Ironman World Championship Race Report (Finally!)

It's been almost 2 weeks since the amazing race in which I officially became and Ironmom. I've been reliving the events in my mind since then, while catching up on everything I've put on hold in real life preparing for the race. I've finally found a moment to get it all down, so here it goes...


The week before Ironman I left the gym in the capable hands of the Trunk Trainers team and enjoyed all of the race week festivities. Between the Parade of Nations, packet pick-up, the Underpants Run and Pre-Race Banquet and meeting I was a little over extended. I tried to squeeze in my final workouts and also enjoy the stay-cation on Alii Dr. sponsored by one of my support crew members, Louise. It was fun, but I was more exhausted from pre-race activities than during training.
  I wound up scrambling Friday to get my gear packed, find a new bike tire, and get a new pair of goggles. Jeff made spaghetti while I packed things up and when I finally turned my bike and gear in Friday afternoon I was feeling ready to go. The family was over, we watched Trolls and Moana and shooed everyone out of the house at 8pm on the dot.

Sherpa Al and my mom arrived right on time at 4:45am to pick me up and we headed down to the pier. After dropping off my special needs bags I lined up to get tattooed. Troy was the volunteer that helped with this, and he seemed nervous, since this was his first time tattooing people. Thank goodness they were temporary. He and his new wife were in Hawaii to get married and decided it would be fun to volunteer. Random aloha right out of the gate. It was going to be a good day. Next I was weighed. It was 132.8 so I shifted forward to hit 133. It's all about the 3's! Ironically I was weighing in at about 128 up until race day. I took that as a sign my hydration plan worked out (and I might have been enjoying the pre-race festivities a little too much!) It had rained hard in the night, so I went to check on my bike. I had covered my helmet with a plastic bag so luckily it was still dry, but everything else was wet, with puddles everywhere in the transition area.


                                              I had the total mom bike. Everything around me was black and white, sleek and aerodynamic, with minimal fuel or hydration. What were these people thinking? Where were the spare tubes, water bottles, granola bars? Maybe they were going to just use what was on the course? They were probably not planning to be out there 8 hours. In any event, I was prepared for anything. I milled around the transition area and waited for the age-group women's start, knowing I should sit, but not being able to.

I got to chat with Lydia while we waited, and saw Becky walking to the water. I joined her and we did a little happy dance that we were actually there. I was surprisingly calm leading up to this point. Women were swimming out to the start and we decided it was a good idea to test our goggles and swim a little just in case. I had a new pair of goggles, but had used the same brand and style many times before, so felt confident I would be ok. The little swim confirmed my confidence, or so I thought. We were going to swim back to shore, but as we turned around, more and more women were coming. With 8 minutes before the start of our heat we didn't really want to be out treading in 10 feet of water, but what kind of rookies would we look like trying to swim back? So we slowly picked our way out to the starting line to the left near the back and waited for the cannon.

The image for this year's Ironman memorabilia is a shot of legs dangling in the water, waiting for the start of the swim, a sea turtle swimming gracefully under the competitors. All I can think of when I see it is the movie Titanic. Every time I see the posters, bags, shirts, and towels with this image I would think of the scene from that movie with everyone in the water as the ship is sinking. Not very encouraging. Nonetheless, that was us in this moment, waiting for our day to start and hoping it would end well.

When the cannon fired and we took off, for once I remembered to start my watch. A pair of goggles slowly sank to the ocean floor as we began creeping forward. Race tattoos were littering the sea like black speckled translucent jellyfish. With minimal bumping and scrambling we spread out pretty quickly and headed toward the Body Glove.

Now, I know better than to start a race with brand new goggles. I had gotten a fresh pair with full intentions of swimming in them before the race, but that never happened. The suction was great at the Expo, the fit felt perfect that morning, and I had used the same brand and style many times before. In my mini warm-up swim they felt great, and so I went against the standard advice and used the new pair even though I knew I shouldn't. By that point there was no going back anyway. Fifteen minutes into the swim I noticed a drop of water inside the goggles. Twenty minutes into the swim and they sprang a leak. I turned to the left for a breath and they filled up. I spent the rest of the swim breathing only on the right, dumping my goggles out every 10 minutes. My contacts were burning in my eyes and I started to feel strain in my left shoulder, laying on it every time I took a breath. Annoying but manageable. At one point I popped up, thinking I saw a pod of dolphins. It was the age-group men swimming back on the other side. I dumped my goggles and kept on going. I got to the turn around point just as projected in my schedule and started to make my way back, uncomfortable but swimming strong. I kept my head down and kept swimming, making it back to the beach in 1:28 minutes. 2.4 miles of swimming is long, no matter how you look at it. I kept thinking, this is it, you might never swim 2.4 again. Enjoy it. But I was glad to be on solid ground once it was over. On to T1.

My TriFe kit was awesome. I used it for the swim, bike, and run without having to change, making my transitions much smoother. It's harder to get a wet suit off and dry clothes back on to a wet body than to finish the race itself, so I am glad I didn't pick that route. My mom was in the transition tent and helped me dry off before applying sunscreen, rubbing it in as to not have big white blobs in some places and burnt skin in others. Everything was soaking wet, so I put my socks and shoes on in the tent before heading out to my bike. She wished me good luck, told me to have fun, and I ran to my bike.

I pulled the mom bike off the rack and made my way to the bike start. Feeling fresh and ready I jumped on and headed to the course, my family cheering on the sides as I made it out of the transition shoot. I figured I had 50-60 miles before I would start to feel tired, as projected from my training rides. I ate and drank a little, waved to friends and fans along Kuakini Hwy, made it up the Palani hill and set course for Hawi. 

Forty miles into my ride I started to feel not only tired but my body beginning to break down. My hamstring was pulling, my shoulder straining, and everything felt generally fatigued. I had been eating and drinking according to schedule, Gatorade, water, gels, gummies...but it all sat in a lump in my stomach. I had gas bubbles stinging my insides and felt nauseous, probably from the seawater I swallowed during the swim. I knew I couldn't stop my nutrition, so I just sipped my drinks slowly, making sure not to swallow any more air. I burped every chance I could and slowed down, trying to allow blood flow to my digestive system. The entire ride I played with this balancing act: get enough nutrition without making myself sick. The wind didn't pick up until Waikoloa, and it was just a steady crosswind with a few gusts, nothing like what it could have been. Before I hit Mauna Lani the ambulance and fire trucks passed me, which I now know were headed to pick up Matt Russell, the pro that was in the bike accident right there at Waikoloa. He flew through a car window while they were trying to cross his path at the stoplight. He ended up surviving, but it was a scary few days after the race for his family.  I was surprised how much traffic was on the highway during the race, and how fast it was going. Cars drove down the center line between bikes traveling in opposite directions. I had been looking forward to having a more relaxed ride, not having to worry about the traffic. It was better than a normal day, but I was still very careful with so many cars on the road.

Slow and steady was my bike ride. I said hello to Dot and Lucia in Hawi, re-loaded my supplies and applied more sunscreen at the special needs stop, and set off back to town. Somehow, the downhills got shorter and the uphills grew into mountains on the way back. I sang my song to a South African guy up the Horrible Hill in Kawaihae: "K-E-L-S-I-E,  you rode from Kona, to Hawi! Now make it back, we know you can. So you can be an IRONMAN." His response was: "Hilly, eh?"                                                                                                                                                                                By the time I made it back to town I was spent. I could see the runners across the way, running on the old highway side of the road and gave a wave to my awesome and superbly patient support crew at the bottom of Hina Lani. I wove down past Target, the pool, the bank, down to the red carpet where Rick was waiting to catch my bike. I was able to get off, but just barely. I took my shoes off before running the big lap around the transition area to change my into my bright pink running shoes. I had finished the bike in under 8 hours and considering how challenging it was, I was jazzed to get out and run.

I dumped my gear with my mom, changed my socks and shoes, and used the porta-lua. I good move, since I ended up not using one the rest of the day. By the time I had to go again it was dark and I wasn't going into one of those things without a light after it had been sitting out all day. Just like a mom who has to do 101 things before getting to use the bathroom alone, I held it until I finished.                                                                                                                                                              The run was more like a parade and celebration than just a marathon. Every half mile members of Team Kelsie greeted me and cheered. It was the best part of the day, and I felt remarkably good. My toes were numb and my forehead hurt from where my helmet was pressing, but otherwise I was just tired all over. At one point I took inventory and every joint, muscle, seam hurt, but it didn't matter. The kids were out there running with me. Aid station volunteers were there urging us all forward. There were more Team Kelsie Support Crews all along the way, waiting to cheer and celebrate each mile accomplished. Needless to say it was really fun.

Every time I passed spectating parents trying to wrangle their children, or carry sleeping ones I wanted to say, "Parenting is way harder than this!" I thought of Jeff and the hours of entertaining he did with Jason and Evan while I trained, and all of the people at that very moment wrangling their own children, trying the best they can to be the best parents to their children but counting down the hours until bedtime when they finally (might) get a break. Ironman is nothing compared to Parenthood. I spent so much time on Alii Dr. the sun began to set and we were handed glow sticks to ward off the impending darkness. I was going to need them, since my head lamp was 10 miles up the road at NELHA. I managed to collect a few extra glow sticks, and gave them to my dad and brothers for the boys once I made it to Kona Inn where they were waiting. The huge cheering section fueled my energy and after a quick hello I set off to the Team Kelsie Support Crew tent at Hina Lani.

The support crew had been waiting all day for me to get back out the them. Luckily, the tracker app was working well and they could see my progress as the day went on. I had also given projected times I would make it to the tent, which were pretty accurate as well. I went over a timing strip near the Harbor and though I felt like walking, I kept running to get to them faster. Soon I could here music playing and suddenly on the PA system a booming voice said, "Kelsie....we know you can hear us! We've been waiting for you! Get over here." As I ran up to the aid station the announcer gave me a shout out, told everyone about my gym, and my support crew went wild. I was going to walk once I got to them, giving them permission to clear out, since I didn't know how fast I could get back. Instead, as I headed back into the darkness toward NELHA, Lehua had arranged for our Moana theme song to play, as well as the Thank You song.

At that moment I felt so loved. I had been singing those songs (we watched the movie the night before on purpose, my boys acting out the parts and singing along) for 8 hours on the bike. The thoughtfulness of Lehua, the sacrifice of my family, the patience and unwavering support of my crew, and my own physical ability made my eyes fill up with tears as I started the second half of the marathon. Unconditional love, support, and aloha. I will never forget that moment.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/550029315147097/

Join our Facebook Group: From Peaman to Ironmom to see clip.

Every time I wanted to walk I would have a reason to keep running. Jim and Suzy met me at the entrance to NELHA, I saw gym members at the aid stations, and Richard greeted me at the timing station at the end of the road. I have volunteered at Richard's timing station several years, and it was there two years ago that I decided I would try to someday become an Ironman. What a wonderful moment to get there, telling myself what I would tell the other athletes each year: "8 miles left to go, and you're as far away from the finish as you are going to be. Every step is brining you closer to the finish."

I had only eaten a few orange slices, a roll, and a fig bar, so by the time I was heading out of NELHA I was HUNGRY. I had another roll, which a volunteer handed to me on a coffee cup lid. I had to laugh. I have spent 15 hours in the ocean, sun, wind, with sweat, snot, tears, gels, Vaseline, dirt, ect. throughout the day. Giving countless high fives (yuck, I know), grabbing dozens of drink cups and wasting so much plastic and paper all day long. I told him he could keep the lid, I would just take the roll. Along with chicken broth (in another paper cup), that roll was the best thing I had ever eaten in my life.

One more pass through Team Kelsie Tent and I was in the home stretch. Only a 5k left before the big finish. I turned the corner at Palani, headed down the hill and was greeted by Jeff and Evan near the bottom, along with Diane, Spencer and Sawyer cheering too. Evan was asleep on Jeff's shoulder and they were a sight for sore eyes (and legs, and arms, and everything else). They cheered me on and I went in for the final stretch of the race.

The finisher chute is surreal. Bright lights, a long carpet, barricades holding back a huge crowd cheering their heads off. I had trained perfectly, ran a great race, and had so much emotion pulsing through me I felt amazing. I tried waiting for the couple finishing before me to go through the finish line, but I was already there. I stepped under the arch, posed in a gymnastic stick-the-landing fashion and heard Mike Riley call me an Ironman over the roaring crowd.

I was swept through the finish area, headed back to deliver my timing chip, got my medal and finisher shirt and set out to find the family, realizing I had no idea where anyone was.

Luckily we reunited quickly and celebrated the day. Melany had made me a beautiful Haku lei and the Support Crew had made leis while watching the race all day. I felt very special, my heavy medal hanging around my neck. It had been a long day for everyone (15 hours and 23 minutes of racing plus the before and after). We gave our final hugs and headed home feeling very accomplished.

I was amazed the next day and those to follow how many people had been tracking my race, even staying up into the wee hours of the morning to see me finish live. Thank goodness I didn't dawdle! My goal is to inspire as many people, especially parents and children to go after their dreams and shoot for the stars. I know with hard work, dedication, and a plan anything is possible.  It seems that I made a splash in our community, because there is still quite the buzz everywhere I go. The impact of my participation in this race has spread further than I will even ever be able to know. There have even been several declarations of races and events that will be done in the future like marathons, half Ironman, and even Ironman. Very cool. Even better, a few have been from the kids watching the whole process unfold, and the parents who are getting their families involved with exercise early.

Besides numb toes for a few days, one blister, and a headache from my helmet being a little too tight, I felt pretty good after the race. I could do stairs, pick up Evan and clean the house. A general fatigue lingered for several days, but recovery was nothing like after my first marathon or having the boys. It was a magnificent day, and I am very fortunate to have gotten the opportunity to experience this awesome event. Will I do it again? Not unless I find myself with 30 hours a week of spare time, $10k extra dollars, and children who are too busy with their adult lives to want me around all the time. I was able to cut all of the corners and barely scrape by to enjoy this race with a smile on my face almost the whole time. So many people sacrificed time, energy, effort, emotion...it was the support crew and the volunteers who really made the day so special. I will be forever grateful to everyone who made this possible. I am also very proud of myself. I modified my training program and trained just enough, even if it was half of what was expected, so I could spend more time with my family and on my business.  I created a great race plan that worked, even though I had to tweak it while racing.  I did not at any point give up on my goal of crossing the finish line to become an Average Ironmom, although at times it was a really rough. I did it, and it proves anything is possible...but not without a little aloha.