IM Coeur d'Alene

The first race where I truly wanted to DNF because it was too challenging -- or at least that is what I told myself at the time. 

Course & Weather: 2.4 mile swim in 2-loops in Coeur d'Alene lake @56F, 112 mile hilly bike in 2-loops @78F, and 26.2 mile run in 2-loops @75F. 14:00:58

Race-Day Food:
400 PB with almonds
300 Granola
100 Gel
400 2 Protein:Carb drinks
400 2 Electrolyte drinks
200 4 half bananas
100 1 Ferro Roche chocolate
300 Salt & Pepper Chips
500 large PB with almonds
800 5 mini energy bars
100 bag of pretzels
100 Chips
100 2 cookies
100 1 electrolyte bottle
300 several small cups of cola
4,200 Total

Results Summary:
Swim 1:40:52
T1 11:02
Bike 7:36:27
T2 10:03
Run 4:22:34
Total 14:00:58

The Drive:
My journey began in Playa Del Rey, where I lived for almost a decade. Van packed, bikes racked, food stored, my dad, little brother, my friend Sef, and I set out on a 1,251 mile drive from Los Angeles to Coeur d'Alene. Our departure time was 2:00pm on a Thursday; we arrived in Idaho 2:00pm the next day. Crossing five states within 24 hours would test not only our patience, but also our tolerance to sit for that long of a road trip. This was our longest road trip so we allowed ourselves to enjoy the sights along the way and stop almost every two hours. 

Expo:
Ironman events require athletes to check-in two days in advance. We are required to sign waivers, collect bib numbers, bib stickers, gear bags, chip, and bracelets at the athlete check-in. Once completed, the expo and official Ironman merchandise store is a place to really enjoy if you're a shopper. One day prior, we are required to drop off our bike, bike gear bag, and run gear bag. All the set up for our gear is tedious in itself.

Pre-Race meal:
I love carb loading. I love eating. This is where I truly enjoy myself: fueling. Saturday afternoon we dropped off our bikes and gear bags and went to dinner together. Our dinner menu included appetizers of bruschetta, ceviche, and mozzarella honey-dipped bread; main courses were spinach salad, pesto pizza, and short rib panini; and dessert was deep fried ice-cream. Years later, Tony could not believe how much I can eat. 

Race Day:
Lights out 9:00 pm, alarm was at 5:00 am. Of course, I was wide awake by 2:00 am. By 4:00 am, I went through my morning routine. By 5:30 am, we were on our way to the start. The last minute checklist: potty break, body marked, bike check, gear check, and portable john again. 6:30 am the cannon blasted sending off the pros. Quick sunscreen and body glide application to slide into my wetsuit. The 2,300+ field had a record percentage of females this year at 27% females, 73% males. Despite these numbers, standing in a corner, I still felt alone even though it was as noisy and crowded as can be, I knew that in a few minutes it would just be me and my thoughts. Why was I so scared? "Good luck sis," my brother consoled. "You can do it, Cachito. Go!" were the last words I heard my dad say. One last wave tothem, I turned around to face the bone-chilling lake and didn't look back because I knew if I did, I would be in tears.

Swim:
One last adjustment to my cap and goggles, the cannon went off at 7:00 am. The race had begun for 2,300 hopeful starters. Looking to the left and to the right, all I could see were hundreds of swimmers. Attempting to calmly step into the water was fruitless. The moment water slowly crept into my wetsuit, I could feel my heart rate jump and my lungs beginning to gasp for air as if I was drowning. Breathe. Breathe. Survive the swim. It didn't help that I had caught a cold the day before much worse had to deal with unforeseen womanly issues on race day. Dealing with my menstrual cycle and racing is something I have accepted and learned how to cope with. The moment I put my head into the water, my breathing went into panic. It would be so much easier to just turn back right now.... This was the first time I really didn't want to suffer. I didn't want to continue. But why? Why did I allow this extreme discomfort dominate my mind when I knew I could do this? It was the most difficult internal battle I had mentally as I struggled to capture my breath, not be punched by another swimmer, and not feel like I was dying. When you go into panic mode while you're in the water, it can be the most terrifying experience. After potentially 10-15 minutes of floating there I finally was able to control my breathing and turn around to swim. Stroke by stroke, I repeated the same phrase over and over: you are a strong, suck it up, and do this. I finished the first loop in 53 minutes, where it should have taken me a relaxed 40 minutes. I was able to spot my dad and little brother cheering and into the water I went again for the second loop -- this can be so disheartening when already the first loop was as daunting as it was. Second loop: 47 minutes totaling 1:40:52. I couldn't feel my hands, my toes were numb, and my face had lost sensation. The water at 56F was by far the coldest water I had swam in. Many swimmers were treated for hypothermia. 

T1:
Climbing out of the water, I attempted to run to my bike gear but my body didn't go. I shuffled to the wetsuit strippers. Volunteers kindly handed me my bike gear bag, guided me to the women's changing tent, and led me to my bike after my changing was done. I might have taken too long in T1 with 11:02, but I couldn't help but look around at others still shaken from that swim. Women in my tent shivered uncontrollably and had lost color from their face. 

Bike:
Helmet, gloves, shoes clipped, and one gel packet dangling from my mouth, I exited T1. The clouds had parted and the sun rays gleamed through in a comfortable mid 60s range. Then I saw my dad and little brother shouting, "Go, Nadia!!! Goooo!" Full of smiles and joy, it was the fuel I need to get mentally reenergized. This was the longest segment of the day, but somehow a blur. All I could remember was pain. My hands had cramped from the cold water. My feet were numb and senseless. My thighs screamed in the beginning. None of my long rides had been this way so why now? By mile 30, I can finally gain the full sensation of my hands. At mile 40, I see my Dad and Jr. ringing those cow bells enthusiastically shouting my name. It is so comforting to the heart to see family out there. At mile 50, my thighs still burn. Hill after hill after hill. Coeur d'Alene is beautiful, however, these hills make you work. At mile 60, my special needs bag was waiting and I looked forward to my peanut butter sandwich, chocolate, salty chips, and almond nutty bar. For me in the beginning years of triathlon, I loved to treat myself with solid foods. It wasn't until later I learned a more efficient way to fuel on the bike and entire triathlon course. At mile 90, I see my Dad & Jr again. Finally, I can feel like I am almost done. Almost. These last miles all I can think of: I can't wait to run. Finally ahead, a volunteer signaled me to dismount. 

T2:
Taking those first few steps after a long ride are always interesting like watching a newborn fawn attempting to walk for the first time. It can be comedic. Another volunteer handed me my run gear bag, guided me to the women's changing tent, and provided any support I needed. I took my time to do a full change so I can feel "fresh" for the run. 10:03.

Run:
Exiting T2, my dad found me, cowbells rattling in the air, and grin from cheek to cheek. Now, I was sincerely smiling. As tired and worn out as I already was, it felt refreshing to not be peddling anymore. As I started my run, each leg felt like a hundred pounds; however, I had practiced running tired a few times so it felt very familiar. With a gel dissolving in mouth, my pace dropped down to 7:30 min/mi. I quickly needed to correct this or else the distance would force me to slow down to a march. With the sun blanketing the pavement and the lake glistening off in the sidelines, the first few miles were mentally relaxing. I began passing runners one by one and counting them was a way to pass time mentally. 40 so far. I wasn't a strong cyclist, therefore, I was able to pick off athletes on the run. At mile 6, I saw my dad. "How are you feeling?" I'm actually feeling great. Averaging now 8:15 min/mi. I passed the time by continuing to count runners that I passed now up to 80. At mile 10, I was almost done with the first loop and still feeling great. The crowds were amazing. The soda tasted amazing. Then the course split. Runners finishing their second loop take a left to the finish. Runners finishing their first loop take a right for another loop. My body then took a dive at this point when I turned onto my second loop.My legs no longer wanted to go further. My thighs throbbed. My hamstrings screamed. How could I go from feeling absolutely great one mile and then Mile 14 I felt like death. By mile 16, I was now down to a shuffle through the hills. By mile 18, my joints began to throb. My race didn't look as dark as it did until at this point. Eight more miles to go and I was emotionally beaten. Physically beaten. I picked up my head to a familiar sound and under my visor I saw, my dad and brother with looks of concern. "C'mon Cachito. Last loop, make the turn, and keep the pace." My first tears rolled down my cheek: Papa Dog, this hurts so much. Why had I not done more brick sessions? More bike and run mileage? This wasn't the point to ask but it's amazing what mind games your head can play with you while you're out there cursing the race itself that you chose to be in. At mile 20, my pace had slowed down from a 9:00 min/mi to a 12:00 min/mi shuffle. At mile 20, I saw my little brother again. "Here we go sis. You can do it and bring it back down to 10:00 min/mi to finish before 9:00 pm" What? I couldn't do the simple math. Depleted brain doesn't work the same. I felt defeated that I struggled so much but with my little brother's encouraging words, I continued to shuffle a little stronger with each mile. "Ok sis. Finish strong. We will see you at the finish!" Mile after mile felt excruciating until I finally saw the finish line lit up ahead in the darkness. My eyes became doused with watery joy as my legs carried me through the finish: "Congratulations, Nadia! You are an Ironman!" A volunteer dressed the medal over my neck and first thing I hear through the crowd with tears down his cheeks, "You did it hija!! I'm so proud of you! You are my Ironwoman!" Nothing can ever replace that feeling. Nothing. Thank you to my family. I could not have done it without them.

IM 70.3 Oceanside

Expo:

My niece and I arrived to the Oceanside Beach Community Center in the late afternoon on Friday to pick up my packet both excited to visit our first official Ironman sanctioned expo. First, we picked up my race packet in the athletes only area zone, and they allowed Serena in because there was no one else to take care of her. She got an inside peak and was full of smiles. Many athletes commented on her adorableness. Second, we entered the expo to fill up on race snacks and we, of course, revisited the food sampling booths several times. Call us the bottomless pits. :) After a quick scan of the bikes worth thousands of dollars and other vendor booths, we quickly made our way to the infamous Ironman Official Merchandise store where you could get your hands on any type of Ironman gear you can imagine. With a basket in hand, Serena and I just filled it up with little items such as magnets, stickers, caps, shorts, bells, and water bottles. Nothing major, but still amounted to a nice price tag. Lastly, we made our way to the beach and pier to take a short stroll together under the very warm sun rays. It concerned me how quickly I got hot just walking around but I calmed my nerves knowing that the forecast predicted for race day was a high of 68 degrees in overcast skies. 

Pre-Race Meal:
As the evening came to a close, Angela, Serena, Jayden and I had a simple but delicious dinner at Chipotle, one of my favorites. In the past, I've had some great races when I eat very generously so here we go: I ate a full chipotle salad with beans, rice, corn, and plenty of tomato and salsa, one bag of chips, and a large frozen yogurt cup with plenty of nuts and fruit. Very, very full happy camper. Lights out at 9:30pm.

Race Day:
Alarm was set for 4am and when it's a high stakes race my eyes open much sooner than the alarm is set. 1:30am, 2:30am, 3:30am... then at 4:00am I was wishing for another few more hours of sleep. But not today. Commuting to the race start, we arrived at 5:30am and I proceeded to calmly set up my transition area after the 1 mile ride from where we parked. By 6:30am, I was set up and sat next to my gear for a few moments to prepare myself mentally for the race. I needed a game plan as there were a few factors to be concerned about for the day given what I had gone through recently (bike crash). By 7:00am, I made my way to the wave line-up: Navy W25-29, W 50+ @7:27am with about 65 starters. Just as usual, the last half hour before game time seemed to be only minutes because before I could realize I was stepping into the cold harbor ready to commence the 70.3. Immediately, I could feel my heart rate rise tremendously which could have been the combination of adrenaline excitement for a race and shock of the cold water. I took one last look at my pink fans, Sister and Niece, sitting warmly giving me my last waves of good-luck. I'll see you ladies in a few hours...

The Swim:
We swam a few meters to the actual start and treaded water nervously waiting for the start signal. 7:27am and we were off in a frenzy anxiously to find a placement among the battling women. I placed myself towards the back of the front pack to not be stuck in the back but not be in the way of the lead swimmers. For about 100m, I swam free style with my head above the water as I didn't want a panic attack of the cold water to ruin my race as it once did in an olympic triathlon last year in March. Live and learn. Finally, I put my head in the water and attempted to find my rhythm in all the excitement. With other swimmers’ arms hitting my legs and my arms hitting other swimmers, it was a mental plea -- when are we going to finally space out? After 10 minutes, I treaded water for a few seconds to find a clear path. Best scenario was to swim on the outside and swim my own race. It would be an extra few meters but it would save me the frustration from having to push and swim through others. Finally, I was able to get into a rhythm but then I felt the motion of the continuous waves that made me feel nauseous. I knew I needed to take it easy. I kept a very calm, relaxed pace till about the turn around when I then knew we were on our way back so I turned it up a notch and swam harder. I could feel my breathing pattern quicken and as a response: I hummed in my head an energetic song that entertained my thoughts temporarily. Push. Push. Push. What seemed like an hour, I climbed out of the harbor and was happily pleased to see on my watch 42:15. I was stoked to have swam that time which was only about 2 minutes slower than my 1.2 mi time last year when I was somewhat swim trained, which indicated that if I had trained better this year then I could have swam faster. What made me more happily surprised was I had only swam twice this entire year and I only slowed down 2 minutes. The circuit training I had been creating for my upper body had preserved my upper body strength enough to swim the distance in a not so bad time. Next time, I will need to definitely put more swim intervals and ocean swim time to get myself down to the 35:00-38:00 split where I should be. Lesson learned: weight sessions help but are not a complete replacement. They are a supplement.

T1:
Instead of rushing, I took my time peeling off my suit, which became a difficult task as it rubbed against my scabbing open wounds and large bruises still on my body 10 days after my bike accident. After a few whimpers, I managed to get it off and bike gear on, and I walked out of the transition area in 7:52. After finding out my overall time was 6:03:00, I was pretty disappointed that I could have broken 6hrs if I had not taken my sweet time here but I accepted it knowing that I was having more trouble than normal to take my wetsuit off and get dressed. Lesson learned: stay in race mode every minute of a race; it's called a race. Yes ma'am.

The Bike:
As no bike course profile had been provided, I rode blindly not knowing what hills to expect but a friend had told me expect the hills after the first half. She wasn't kidding. The first 25 miles were smoothly completed but I still held a relatively relaxed pace at an average 18mph. You can imagine there were plenty of cyclists that passed me with that pace but all I could say in my head was: I'll see you on the run... remember the back of my shirt. I do not have zipp wheels. My bike isn't worth over a grand. I do have my legs and I will do my best to catch you on the run. Mile 27, the second half of the bike course revealed itself without mercy. Hills? With over 2,000ft in elevation gain, yes there were hills. Up I went... The singing resumed. Humming to myself again, I didn't even realize that I was passing a few cyclists as they were struggling going up hill. Yes! My leg strength paid off. Up over the crests over each hill felt so satisfying to see the joyous downhill we had ahead. I did play it safe. I did not remain in aero position on the downhill and placed my hands on the brakes just in case. After my bike fall with fresh wounds, I couldn't completely shake the incident. I didn't go faster than 28mph. Mile 40, not too far from home and my second wind set in. I pedaled hard against the strong headwinds and again I started passing some more cyclists. It felt good. Bike complete in 3:29:09. It's not great however I was pleased given the hills and I had survived a slightly traumatic accident 10 days prior. Lesson learned: With my longest ride being 40 miles this year, I need to log in more bike mileage and not allow myself to get so preoccupied with the run and weight training when triathlon training.

T2:
Quick change of shoes and a much needed potty stop, I was out in 4:58. Fixing my ponytail and visor on, I was ready for my favorite part, the half marathon.

The Run:
One step in front of the other, my legs felt like they weighed a ton. No point in slowing down, I had some time to make up and some cyclists to catch. Quickly I dropped into a 6:50 min/mi pace and had to force myself to slow down because I knew my body would not hold out for 13 miles at that pace. I had ran only once in the last 10 days because of the incident. Solution: run fast, run smart, and run strong. With a two loop out and back course, there was plenty to keep the eyes entertained and all I could think about was my breathing and form. Catch the runner ahead. Catch her. Now catch him. Mile 6 and I was holding a 7:20 average pace but then I hit a slight bit of fatigue and dropped down to 7:40-7:50. Mile 10, I carried myself back down to 7:20, 7:10, 7:10. I'm almost done! With the finish line in sight, I heard my sister yelling at the top of her lungs: Go sis!!! Her voice cracked and I could hear her tears. I'm so proud of you sis!!! I couldn't help it, tears dropped down my face as I ran across the finish line. What a great feeling to push the body beyond what we believe it can do. I did it. I completed my 3rd half ironman distance triathlon in 6:03:00. I was a little rusty as my last triathlon was 10 months ago at Vineman. I was happy to once again challenge myself to do the unknown. Thank you to the rest of my familia for being there in spirit for me. I love you.

Results Summary:
Swim 42:15
T1 7:52
Bike 3:29:01
T2 4:58
Run 1:38:54
Total 6:03:00

Vineman Triathlon

Course & weather: 2.4 mile swim in 2-loops in the Russian River at Johnson’s Beach @ 55F, 112 mile bike in 2-loops through the vineyards in Guerneville @ 82F, & 26.2 mile run in 3-loops at Windsor High School @ 75F. 14:03:28

Reasons why individuals run vary as much as runners’ personalities vary. Some start to lose weight and stay in shape. Some run to find short-lived liberation from their busy chaos. Some run to reconnect with the beautiful elements of the outdoors either alone or with their two or four-legged friends. Some run to actually seek that desirable, burning but wonderful pain to reach personal achievement. But why? There is something biologically innate that give us personal satisfaction to physically exert ourselves beyond particular boundaries. So where do I fall? I’d say all the above. I find a great inner peace when all I can hear is my own breath early in the morning before sunrise as I run along the beach with my four-legged friends. When I am done, my body feels pure. It feels cleansed and thirsty for the next run. So when the opportunity came up to compete in an ironman, I could not pass the tantalizing challenge.

My journey did not begin on race morning but actually months before. Maybe years. It was those early years when I just started running in high school where I began to get a taste of the competition running had to offer. No, it is not simply putting one step in front of the other when you truly desire a specific outcome. For any competitive runner, they know it takes sweat, work, pain, and hopefully not injury but it sometimes happens. Some goals start with a simple fascination… that is how my ironman seed was planted. Several years ago, watching the Ironman World Championship in Hawaii, as a fourteen-year old, left me in a trance. How can someone subject themselves to such a task would puzzle me for years but at the same time it ignited a fire inside that one day I could do the same. Finally, in January 2010, I took the plunge and signed up for my very first ironman unsure how to adequately prepare or what exactly I was getting myself into.

Race day came so it was lights out at 9:00pm but the whites of my eyes were in plain sight at 2:00am on this faithful race day Saturday. The day had finally arrived. Never had I been as nervous as I was. Understandable because it as the first time I would be driving my body to compete for 140.6 miles in three sports coalesced into one: the Ironman. Nonetheless, I knew I had done what I could to get myself to the finish line; however, with such a long racing day ahead, anything can happen. My parents, siblings, husband, and I drove out to the race start at 4:30am. An early start for most of them but we were all wide awake. We arrived to the race start location at Johnson’s Beach where the swim started in the Russian River, Guerneville. Shortly after arrival, I began my triathlon ritual: check tires, check brakes, potty stop, and check gear. With every passing minute I tried to calm my thoughts and just take each task at a time to make sure nothing was left out. First set up my transition one area with my bike items. Second, get my body marked up. Third, drop off my bike and run nutrition bags that would be taken for me to the middle of the course. Fourth, potty stop again. Fifth, warm up? I really don’t like to but as I have learned in the past, the cold water could send my body into panic so into the water I went about 15 minutes to the start. Surprisingly, the river felt lukewarm. Or maybe I was just heated with excitement. I was told it was 55 degrees out but I could not feel a thing. Minutes to the start, I said my last good-byes to my family with a little fear in my eyes. Only a few days ago, I felt like I was on my death bed sick as ever with the flu but I somehow managed to still arrive on race day hoping my cough and sore throat would not be aggravated. 6:45am Wave 4 and all women were sent off! My mental goal was to always stay in the game and take one piece at a time. For the swim, I did just that. I calmly attempted to find a pace that felt moderately easy but still maintained a pace in the middle of the pack. With the swim being a 2 loop course, I wanted to swim the second loop faster than the first and did just that. I climbed out the water in one hour and 25 minutes feeling somewhat refreshed and happy that I felt full of energy. But I needed to maintain focus. I had finished in 318th place out of the 700 starters. Quickly I jogged to the wetsuit strippers and they peeled my wetsuit off in seconds then I again calmly changed into a completely new set of biking clothes. I wanted to start fresh as the next leg would be a test of my weakness.

Sonoma County truly does live up to its name of having beautiful vineyards. I started the bike attempting to tackle it hour by hour. I was hoping to average 16mph but the hills surprised me and definitely tested the power of my thighs. The morning was very forgiving with a marine layer blanketing the skies for at least another two hours and then the sun peaked slowly through as the marine layer burned off. With each minute that passed, it became warmer and warmer. Hour 1, 15.5 miles done. Hour 2, another 15 miles done. A little behind schedule but I reminded myself it was very early to turn on any accelerators. What did I think about? How many calories have I eaten? Watch out for that rock. How many ounces have you drank? That vineyard looks like just like the one before….anything to entertain my mind. Hahaha you can say I was playing mind games with myself anything to distract myself from the thought that I still had many miles to go on the bike and still a marathon to run afterwards. All jokes aside, I really did count the number of calories I ate and ounces I drank. In a 7-hour bike ride, I had consumed 2,500 Calories (2 energy gels, four energy bars, two peanut butter sandwiches, and one bag of Doritos) and 100 oz of water or Gatorade. I was full to the max even though the Calories weren’t enough to replenish approximately 4,500 Calories I had burned from the swim and bike. Hour 7 complete and just 12 miles to go!! Dear God, I was almost going to make it! My bottom hurt, my feet cramped, my calves burned, and I was beginning to overheat. Nonetheless, nothing can explain how powerful the support of family can be. I had ridden alone for several hours and to see my family once again filled me with joy that I was ok and I had finished 112 miles in 7 hours and 33 minutes. “WOOooooo!” I heard my parents, my sister, then my brother with my husband, then my in-laws all with encouraging smiles. How bad I just wanted to hug them but I needed to reset my mind again that I was about to start my “favorite” part. Now I could no longer calmly change but with the energy I had I completely changed my clothes to begin “fresh” the marathon. Helmet off, visor on. Energy gel in hand and two running watches on my wrist: my ironman waterproof one to document my total time and my GPS to keep me sane and oriented where I was in the race. Marathon here I come.

The marathon course was 3 out-and-back loops each about 8.7 miles long with four aid stations along the course. I had run this distance now 45 times. I know what to expect. I know how to pace myself. I know what I can handle. Oh how I was wrong to think I knew what this marathon would hold for me. I began the marathon with what I though would be an easy pace of 8:30min/mile. After shaking the remnants of the bike leg off in one mile, my pace quickly dipped to 7:30min/mile. Woah girl!! What was I thinking? I forced myself to slow down to approach the first ten miles as a “warm-up”. Who was I kidding it was still in the 80s and I had already doused my entire clothes in water to try to keep cool. Mile 3 rolled around and what did I see ahead: a large hill!! I couldn’t believe that they made the bike course hilly and now the run course hilly? I should have studied the course maps a little more closely. I trotted up the hill and came over and realized I was approaching the loop turn around now at 8:45min/mile. This time I wasn’t trying to slow down. No worries. I was still within pace to finish in 3:45. As I squinted to see the turn around of the loop at 4.35 miles I saw mom, dad, and Angela!!! Oh it was so good to see them. It filled me with warmth as I watched my mom kick the dirt around on the sideline as she waited for me to pass. Mamita!!! She quickly looked up and her eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t help myself. I cried…again… at this point it might have been the fourth time on the entire course. I gave my family a promising smile that I felt strong and averaged 9:00min/mile. First loop done right on target for a 4:00 finish. Not 3:45 but the way I was feeling, I will take 4:00. As I began the first loop, something odd started to crawl through every muscle fiber in my legs. I had suddenly been overcome with such extreme fatigue. What was happening? My muscles no longer ached like they did on the bike but the screamed with agony with every step I took. Mile 13….my God I was only halfway with the marathon! Fear began to fill my mind as I began to wonder if my body would allow me to make it to the finish. I walked. My muscles yelped. I jogged. My muscles screamed. I jogged. My muscles just couldn’t take it anymore. But I was not about to give up. I had never given up anything. I had dreamed of this. Why the hell was I doing this again??? I completed the second loop now 20 minutes slower than the first. Oh no, I was breaking apart physically and mentally. Mile 18. At the finish of the 2nd loop there was Jr and Armand cheering for me loudly. Tears again rolled down my cheeks. I didn’t want to run that 3rd loop. I really didn’t want to. It hurt too much to even breathe because my body didn’t even know if I was thirsty, hungry, or just plain tired. With an attempt to reset my mind again, I changed my shirt one last time and began the 3rd loop whimpering like I was five years old again. Just one more loop. Just one more loop. This day was filled with repetition but it was the only thing that kept all the wheels turning in my head. Mile 20. My pace now had shifted down to 10:00min/mile, 11:00min/mile, and even 15:00min/mile. I couldn’t stomach anything else. I couldn’t drink. I couldn’t eat. I was so tired of energy bars. I was tired of cookies. The fig newtons tasted like cardboard to me. The peaches no longer could go down. I had six miles to go and I needed to keep it together. Mile 22. Papito!!!!!! I kept telling myself stay strong. Stay strong. But the moment I saw him, I looked at him with sadness and fear. “Daddy, I am hurting so bad. But I am going to do it.” He walked a few steps with me and gave me that look he has given me since I was a little girl. He didn’t need to say anything. I knew. I needed to believe in myself to make it my goal. With the last bit of determination, I shuffled my feet back to a 10:00min/mile pace. That’s what the GPS read but I felt like I was floating. 23. 24. 25. 26….My dad was there once again! I’m going to do it, Dad. I’m going to do it. I turned the corner back to the finish line area and there it was the finishing chute that I had dreamed of for years. With 50 meters to go, I ran on the finisher’s carpet covered in tears crying filled with joy. My Dear God, I did it with you. You carried me through this race. 14 hours, 3 minutes, and 28 seconds later, I finished in 333rd place out of 548 finishers. The greatest things in life are sometimes earned through sacrifice and pain. Here I earned my title and honor to now call myself and IronWoman. Thank you God and my family for being the fire of my strength. I will return.