Ironman Wisconsin 2013

If you're a spouse/partner of a triathlete, especially if the triathlete has an "Ironman problem", then you know what I'm talking about. Nine months of training for one very expensive day, where the end result is kind of like getting hit by a truck-only you paid them to let it happen. It kind of doesn't make sense. Until you arrive at the race site. 

I can only compare my husbands relationship with Ironman to my relationship with pregnancy. Unfortunately, my track record for having awful, home-nurses-needed pregnancies are 3/3. So why did I keep having kids? Because pregnancy was just a means to an end for me. I knew that if I just hung in there, I would walk away with the sweetest little chunk of a baby. Pain? Vomiting non-stop? What? Who was puking?  The amnesia sets in real fast...then guess who is having another?

Over the past nine months, my husband has trained for Ironman Wisconsin.  He has gotten up for 4am swims, fit workouts in between shift work, and has tried to do it while the kids have been at school. 

I'm extremely proud of him, and I really can't wrap my head around his dedication to his sport. But I would be a liar if I said this training has been all roses. I know I have wanted to ring his neck at least 642 times. Why? Because we have three kids, and when he says I need to go out on a bike ride....an 80 mile bike ride...well, you would will want to ring his neck too. It's as mentally exhausting for me as it is physically for him. If you are an "Iron-widow", you know exactly what I mean.

It all seems rediculous, until you get in the car, drive 900 miles, and arrive in Madison, WI. 

The entire town has embraced this crazy race. And you spend the day walking through crowds of these people all as anxious and excited as your husband, and it starts to make sense. 

The energy here, amongst all of these other people is amazing. It's like this restrained euphoria...they're all on the starting block, just waiting for the horn to blow, setting them free. It's the kind of joy you get from holding your baby for the first time. The one who made you sick as a dog and swell like a tick for nine months. 

Nine months if hellish training pays off for a week of pre-race/race day accomplishment. Because after race day, the memory of the pain getting to that medal around your neck is all but gone. After all, you're an Ironman now.  

My husband has already asked if he can sign up for next years race. I just stared at him....God help me. 

"I wish you more than luck" to everyone in the race tomorrow, I'll be cheering for all of you with tears in my eyes. You all have a drive I'm not sure I'll ever understand. But your energy? I'm already feeling that like crazy. I get that. 

Above all, happy 40th birthday to my husband, racer #1833. You're spending your special milestone by creating another one-the day you became an Ironman, twice over. Your drive, determination, and guts to withstand my "I'm gonna hurt you" stares during those last workouts are unmatched, and I love you!  Enjoy the day, look around and soak in the race, and know that I'll be waiting at the finish line for you. Can't wait. The 75 minute Dogfish head beer is iced down and ready to go. 

Go Daddy Go!

Have a great day!

{Jenn}

PS-please forgive any format errors, I'm typing this on my phone...I'll eventually get to a laptop to make it pretty ;) 

How to be an Awesome Spectator

Yesterday my amazing husband competed in Ironman Wisconsin 2013. He planned for his nutrition, fluids and any technical issues he would have. My preparation as a spectator was kind of the same, but different....  Here is my list of what you can't live without if you are going to survive watching a race that lasts longer than...well, things that are really long. 

1. Wear sneakers. That picture is from pre-race for HIM. Notice I'm all geared up too. Running shoes on. You will never make it to transitions if you don't run your ass off. And I mean run. It makes it easier if cops are chasing you (don't ask)...you have to run faster than them if you're going to make it to see him  leaving transition. Be ready. 

2. Wear a sports bra. You can't run fast without it. Plus it holds lots of stuff. I kept his race splits written down in there for easy access, my phone, phone charger, and a few bucks. 

3. Wear a backpack. Have a backpack packed for yourself, but remember he is going to give you all of his extra crap when he jumps in the water. You will look like a Sherpa and feel like one too, but you really don't get to complain on Ironman race days. Pack only what you NEED. Ladies, this is not a day for your latest Michael Kors bag. It looks cute, but your butt is just going to sit at Starbucks all day if you're dressed for cuteness on race day. That's a fact, Jack. 

4. Bring TP. Pack a roll of toilet paper, and hand sanitizer. You will have to most likely embrace the porta potty...just deal for 1 day. Think of how strong your thighs will be from all the hovering you'll be doing. And the TP? Yup, I needed it. There is no one to ask, "can you spare a square?", in a porta John. But I stole a roll from our hotel room, so I was good. Pack it. 

5.  Pack snacks. Make sure you pack crackers for yourself and a drink like coconut water (it has great electrolytes). You will need the electrolytes when you forget to eat all day and are ready to pass out. This came in handy yesterday (yes I had the snacks, but I'm lazer focused on race days on finding/cheering for/sharing some good energy with my husband, and I forget to eat). So be smarter than me and eat. 

6. Take maps. Chances are you are in an unknown city for the race, like we are, and you have no clue of where to go. I made it my job to pump locals we met for any extra info, and I made friends with a super nice cop (not the guy who chased me earlier) and picked his brain about how to beat the crowds from spot to spot. Yes, some side street I went down was desolate and had no "race goers" in thick lines down the roadway, but it just made me run faster to get to the next spot, and I was right up against the barrier. Score. I also circled locations where I thought I could see Bill the most, numbered them, and stuck to my plan. 

7. Know Splits.  Have your husband/friend/whomever give you their approx race splits, and corresponding times of day that will match up.  It makes estimating their arrival times into a viewing area much easier to predict. 

8. Be a hawk. You will get to know race goers as the day goes on, especially people who have loved ones around your persons timing...if their friend/family passes through an area before your friend/family member, take note. At the next good-viewing-spot, they may have a good position, closest to the racers. Stand with/behind them...as soon as their person comes by, they're bolting, and so are YOU, right into their spot. People are bat-shit-crazy when jockeying for position  to be closest to the race. I'm right there with them. That's why I watch, wait, then pounce into their spot as soon as they turn to go. I watched old ladies get pretty hard core yesterday trying to get into good position. Stay aware, people!  If your racer doesn't get to see/hug/kiss you along the race, then you may as well have stayed home. They NEED YOU out there! Hustle!

9. Be willing to wait. Especially during an Ironman, once they go out on a portion of the race, they will be gone for awhile. This does not mean you get a break. It means you have six hours to get your behind into the most perfect position to see them return. Waiting for my husband to come in on the bike, I stood on my tippy toes, hanging over a 3-story concrete barrier for about 2 hours. Yes, my toes went numb, and I think I bruised my ribcage, but I saw him come in off the bike, and was able to bust it to get a sweaty kiss from him as he was starting on the run. 

For the finish? I went over 2 hours early, staked it out, found the best position then waited for an opening. I got in, then stood still for a loooooong time. It was worth it. He saw me, and I saw him finish. Boom. My race was over too. 

10. Scream like crazy when you see your person. They will be in the midst of the most...ahem..."messed up" anguish and pain they have ever experienced. Letting them see you gives them the little lift that will help propel them through the next umpteen miles.  My husband kept saying, "My god you're all over this course!".  Well, hell yeah I am! 

I put those running shoes on for a reason. 

Have a great day, and remember to forgive my formatting until I can get home to an actual computer! Thx people!!

{Jenn}