Not quite as pretty as I was hoping for, but at least I crossed that finish line. Part of me really wants to try again to improve. To do that, though, would be to put my family and my body through a rough beating again. Might take a while till I get around to something of this magnitude again.
Registration - 852
DNF - 103
DNS - 91
DSQ - 18
Chris Padgett (797)
swim - 1:15:56
bike - 7:04:15
run - 5:33:04
total - 14:31:30
Total finishers - 821
official site - http://www.challenge-family.de/results/2011_BarcelonaFull_Individuals.pdf
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
The Race Video
Here it is. Actual video proof that I crossed that finish line.
Amy did a fantastic job getting some great video of all aspects of the race. Thank you!
Amy did a fantastic job getting some great video of all aspects of the race. Thank you!
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Challenge Barcelona
Day of Iron (Oct 2, 2011)
Pre-Race
No matter how relaxed I tried to stay, it was nearly impossible to sleep the night before. I took an Ambien at 9:00pm the night before. Passed out and then woke up at 12:30am. Tossed and turned, then took another at 1:00am. Was able to get back to sleep, but again, woke up at 3:45am. By 4:30, I knew that I wasn’t going to get back to sleep. Fantastic! The longest day of my life lie ahead of me, and I barely got any sleep. One more thing to worry about: would I have enough energy at the end of the day to complete the race?
But the day was going to be an exciting one. The weather was going to be perfect, very little wind during the swim, and mid-70’s for the temp. The sunrise that Amy and I witnessed beginning over the ocean was gorgeous. Huge and red. Coupled with that were 1,100 participants, a large handful of participants & race officials, and countless friends, family & other fans there to cheer all of us on.
At 8:30am, the professional men took off followed by the women 2 minutes later. Wave after wave started, and then it was my turn! Standing in the “age 35-39 Men” wave, surrounded by 150+ of my fellow, anxious athletes, we waited for that cannon to fire. “One minute to go!” I turned to one of the lady officials beside me who would be on the microphone all day. Told her this was my first Iron distance race and was returned with a hearty, “You will do fantastic. Enjoy your day.” Little did I know that I would be connecting with her off and on throughout the race.
Boom!
The Swim
I was off and into the Mediterranean Ocean for my 3,800-meter (2.4-mile) swim. The water ended up being warmer and calmer than I was expecting, plus I was able to see all the way to the bottom. We swam straight out 200 meters to the first of many buoys, then took a right turn. After participating in numerous triathlons before, I knew that I wanted to hang back a little and let the speedsters take the lead. Nothing like getting kicked in the face or tackled from behind or punched in the sides (all on accident) that always happen in these open water swims. Reading beforehand, I had the mentality that I needed to cruise for 90% of the swim. Find my rhythm and stick with it.
Since there were so many people swimming, it didn’t need to “spot” very much. Just follow the feet in front of me and hope they were going straight. I still looked up every once in a while to make sure I wasn’t veering off at an angle. Aside from ingesting what felt like several gallons of salt water, I was doing fantastic in the swim. But don’t push too hard, I still have a marathon to run.
Throughout the swim, I would feel a some hands on my feet as people were drafting off me. Then they would pass. At the same time, I would draft off someone else and play pitter-patter with their feet before passing them. It’s all part of the game. With about 800 meters (1/2 mile) to go, I glanced at my watch and knew that I was truckin’. My goal was to come out of the water before 1:30:00. The fastest I had swam in the pool was 1:12:00. Climbing onto shore, I noticed my watch said 1:15:13. Pretty stoked about that. Unfortunately, the time I had saved was about 5 minutes away from not even mattering.
Transition 1 (swim-to-bike)
In the tent, I took some time to catch my breath, burp out the sick feeling from the salt water and get dressed for the bike. I was thankful to be on dry land and looking forward to the next discipline. Along with the masses, I come running out of the tent and into the bike park. I find my bike and my heart sank.
The back tire was flat! What? Then I noticed that the front tire was flat as well! Are you kidding me? It was surreal. I was in a state of shock. Both tires were blown. Do you know how long it takes to change one tire, much less two? I quickly ask a nearby official where the mechanic is so that I can get some aid. “Oh, he’s about 14 miles down the road in the middle of the course.” Uhhh…is there a pump nearby so I don’t have to use the tiny, portable one? “I will look for you.”
After about 3 or 4 minutes, I finally get past the denial phase of what’s happening and get to work on changing both tires. I’m still breathing hard, not thinking straight and terrified that I just trained this long to barely get out of the starting gate. Plus, it’s very challenging to change a bike tire in a hurry. You keep messing up and not getting it to fit. After another 5 minutes, I have both tubes in the tires, the tires back on the bike and now looking for a pump to use. I wasn’t the only one with a flat, but I was the only one with 2 flats. After waiting about 2 more minutes for a guy to pump up his tire, I grabbed the pump from him and began airing up. The back one, filled up no problem. The front one, almost at 100 psi, I hear a loud hiss and it was blown. Seriously?!?!?! A 3rd flat tire. You can only imagine the depression setting in at this point. Here is where the mental training comes into effect to not give up.
Remember that sweet lady official I mentioned? Well, by this time she is standing nearby blaring into the microphone to “Cheer on Padgett from Texas! He came all the way and is struggling with 2 flat tires. Wait. Now his front tire went flat again. Poor guy. Let’s encourage him not to quit.” A group of about 10-15 people had all gathered nearby to root me on. A few more minutes after that, I had changed a 3rd tire and it was pumped up and ready to go. People cheering, the lady on the mike pressing me on, a long bike ride ahead.
Instead of blazing out of the bike park with all that encouragement from the group of folks around me, I had to pee. So I leave my bike on the stand and run over to the porta-potty. Guess who is announcing to everyone what I am doing? Yep…mike-lady. But after my painful ride in Lisbon 5 months ago “holding it”, I wasn’t going to make that mistake again. And then I’m out of there after about a 30-minute delay!
The Bike
Now it was time for the 180-kilometer (112-mile) bike ride. Well, that depression that started to sink in during the tire changing only grew stronger and stronger for the first 1.5 hours. Amy had been waiting up the road for me to pass and was concerned that the swim was harder than I anticipated. When I passed her and told her what happened, she tried to encourage me. But the roots of depression were too deep.
The mechanic station was about 14 miles down the road. I had no more spare tires on me, my back tire was only partially pumped up and my front tire kept thumping every rotation. It’s like I was driving that car in “Blue’s Brothers”. I was just waiting for the bike to fall apart. I don’t know how, but I made it down to the mechanic after about 45 minutes of pure depression, anger and frustration. I was completely defeated mentally. The gracious man then pumped up the back tire and tried to pump up the front one.
But you can probably guess what happened again. Hissssssss. Yep…the front tire was blown again. So he changed it out, but added some plastic tubing to the inside of my wheel to keep it from blowing again. All told, that little pit stop cost me another 10-15 minutes. By that time, I was just downright pissed.
I hopped back up on my bike and began the grueling ride. It took a long time to clear my head and get properly focused again. Songs in my head, video clips I had watched, words people had spoken to me. Whatever it took, I had to get back on track. At one point, I rode up alongside and guy from the UK that was waiting for his 60-yr-old mother-in-law. My response to him when he asked me how I felt: “absolutely miserable.”
“How bad do you want this? If you want it more than anything else, YOU WILL COMPLETE IT!” he told me. “If you have competed in Tri’s, you know that a lot of people walk on the run. Plenty of time.”
Head down, pushing into the wind, I just kept going even though I couldn’t. Numerous times on that bike ride the thought would rage in my mind, “I can’t do this. I’m not able to get it done.” But by faith, my answer was always, “BUT I DID IT!” Sometimes it is better to live in the future looking back than to live in the moment. (Might preach on that someday)
With about 34 miles to go, I realized that the cut-off time for the bike was rapidly approaching. If I didn’t pick it up, I wouldn’t even have the opportunity to embark on the marathon. With head down and legs pumping, I pressed into the 15-mile-an-hour head wind for the first 17 miles, then soared back those last 17 miles in about 35 minutes. I don’t know how to explain it, but one of the best times I felt the entire day was biking from mile 95 thru mile 112. It was exhilarating. Plus I passed about 7 or 8 people.
Just before pulling into the bike park, faithful Amy was there on the side of the road to keep cheering me on. She told me not to give up and that she would see me later during the run. Boy, was that an understatement.
Transition 2 (bike-to-run)
Not a lot to say about this transition. I did notice that most of the professionals had already finished the entire race before I had even started my 42-kilometer (26.2-mile) run. But they need to feed their families on days like this. I was just out to enjoy myself.
I did meet a man named Dominic who had just finished his bike. We decided to start running together, but I quickly peeled off cuz the dude had super-human legs. I couldn’t keep up with that. Plus, I remembered that my Triathlete Hero (Keith Riley) had told me “slow and steady finishes the race.” Was he ever telling the truth.
The Run
It was during the very 1st mile of the run that I knew in my mind that I was actually going to finish and become an IronMan. Plus I still had 6:40:00 left to complete the race before the official cut-off.
The first of my four 6.5-mile laps went by relatively smoothly. Sure wasn’t tearing through the course, but I felt pretty good. It took a while to get the legs stretched out and transitioned into running. And I did make sure to walk a couple of minutes at every aid station instead of pressing through it. You can’t sprint a marathon (unless you need to feed your family).
By the time I started the second lap, things started to get a little more hairy. The bounce in my step had somehow called it a day. The hopes for a 5-hour-marathon vanished real quickly. But I kept pressing on! I knew that a mile down the road, Amy would be waiting for me to cheer me on. Couldn’t let her down.
When I finally did see her (about mile 7.5) she tried to encourage me by saying, “You in the home stretch! Almost there!” For anyone who has ever run a long distance, you are generally just warming up at mile 8, not finishing. Since I had broken the day up into numerous bite-sized sections instead of one large mass, I just started laughing. Mentally, my marathon was broken up into 16 parts (aid station to aid station every 1.75 miles). Her encouragement came at part 5. No way was I in the home stretch. But to her, I had just completed 121 out of 140 miles. Seeing it from that perspective, I get it now.
Miles 7 – 13 were a blur. Passing people, being passed. Shuffling along, walking a chunk. Just making sure to put one foot in front of the other. I knew that once I finished my second of four laps, I would only have a half-marathon left to go. The way the route was set up, we had to run right by the finish line three times before we could cross it on our fourth. It was at that second passing that the mike-lady saw me and wanted to know how much further I had. In front of hundreds of spectators waiting at the finish line, she said, “Keep cheering on Padgett from Texas! He had such a hard time this morning, but only has 2 more laps to go.”
About mile 14, I came upon Amy again. I had run through the previous aid station so that I could take some time to walk with her. We walked together for about 5 minutes, knowing that the 3rd lap is by far the hardest of the 4. She was such an encouragement the entire race. But the last 2 laps I really do not think I could have done without her by my side.
Since most of the “fast” folks had finished the race by this time, us turtles were allowed to listen to music if we desired. I popped in my iPod nano and trucked down the road at a great pace for miles 14.5 through 17. I didn’t stop once and was feeling great, relatively speaking.
But what almost always happens about this time in a marathon: THE WALL!
I have hit the wall in other Tri’s and races before. I even knew it was coming. But I have NEVER felt that bad before in my life. It was beyond horrific.
From miles 17 through 18.5, I wanted to throw up, my stomach dropped out, was completely light-headed, could barely move my legs, had nothing mentally in me to push and just wanted to sit on the nearby bench and die. I think I walked for at several 5-minute stretches before shuffling again. “Just make it to Amy. Just make it to Amy.” Finally, I saw her sitting under the lamp post waiting for me and knew everything was going to be alright. I had pressed though it. She walked beside me and prayed for me. She then tightened the backpack and jogged a good half-mile with me. I don’t think I ever want to experience that 20-30 minute period again for the rest of my life.
Once past it, I finished lap 3 and saw mike-lady near the finish line calling out names. And again, she got the crowd to cheer me on for my final lap. And oh how delightful that final lap was!
I saw Amy back at the bridge where I had just left her. Told her that I was going to be okay and would be at the finish line soon. Go and wait there for me!
Miles 20 through 25.5 were absolutely amazing! I turned on some more worship music and connected with Jesus in such a sweet way. Obviously the course was pretty much a ghost town by this time. That enabled me to sing out loud and praise Him while still encouraging all the other tail-end stragglers out there. Plus, I didn’t stop once to walk during that final lap. I found my easy 12-minute-mile pace and kept it up. And for some reason, I think I passed at least 10 people on that last lap. Can’t even begin to describe how great it felt.
For some reason, when I was about ½ mile from the finish line, I started to get nauseous and light-headed again. I was staggering a little bit and got somewhat concerned. Then I realized that I was afraid of success. I was about to accomplish a huge feat that I had been training for years on, and got really nervous for being successful. Once I pushed those thoughts out of my head, I pressed on that final 0.2 miles to the finish line.
The Finish
I wasn’t quite sure if there would still be anyone left in the stands waiting at the Finish Line for all of us stragglers. But I did know that my wife was there waiting for me! As I turned the corner, I heard the music blaring and noticed at least 100 people still waiting around. It was fantastic! And faithful microphone lady was ready to call out my name.
“All the way from Texas, and with the longest transition time in the bike area, here comes Padgett to the finish line!”
Cheers & cheers, high 5’s from those waiting, the overhead clock reading 14:51:00 (minus 20 minutes cuz I started in a later wave) and my faithful wife standing right next to the line videoing the finish. As soon as I crossed that finish line, they put a medal around my neck and handed me my shirt that says, “2011 FINISHER”
I don’t think I will ever be able to fully describe how I felt when I finished. The joy, the relief, the sense of accomplishment… Words can’t begin to describe how I feel after completing a life goal.
Misc
* For my birthday, I got a Texas cycling jersey specifically to wear for this event. Throughout the day, esp during the run, I would hear people yelling, “Go Texas!” or “Hook ‘em Horns!” It felt so awesome to represent the great State of Texas here in Spain!
* During the last month of training, numerous aspects of my body felt like they were breaking down on me: one of my big toes, my left ankle, both my hamstrings, my left bicep and then pulling the muscle in my back about 10 days before the race. I guess overtraining can do that to you. I spent the last week before the race doing very little. And I also asked numerous folks to pray for my health. I am able to say that not a single thing bothered me the entire 140.6 miles except for my right hamstring wanting to tighten up with 3 miles to go. (These couple of days after the race are a different story. My legs are aching!)
Pre-Race
No matter how relaxed I tried to stay, it was nearly impossible to sleep the night before. I took an Ambien at 9:00pm the night before. Passed out and then woke up at 12:30am. Tossed and turned, then took another at 1:00am. Was able to get back to sleep, but again, woke up at 3:45am. By 4:30, I knew that I wasn’t going to get back to sleep. Fantastic! The longest day of my life lie ahead of me, and I barely got any sleep. One more thing to worry about: would I have enough energy at the end of the day to complete the race?
But the day was going to be an exciting one. The weather was going to be perfect, very little wind during the swim, and mid-70’s for the temp. The sunrise that Amy and I witnessed beginning over the ocean was gorgeous. Huge and red. Coupled with that were 1,100 participants, a large handful of participants & race officials, and countless friends, family & other fans there to cheer all of us on.
At 8:30am, the professional men took off followed by the women 2 minutes later. Wave after wave started, and then it was my turn! Standing in the “age 35-39 Men” wave, surrounded by 150+ of my fellow, anxious athletes, we waited for that cannon to fire. “One minute to go!” I turned to one of the lady officials beside me who would be on the microphone all day. Told her this was my first Iron distance race and was returned with a hearty, “You will do fantastic. Enjoy your day.” Little did I know that I would be connecting with her off and on throughout the race.
Boom!
The Swim
I was off and into the Mediterranean Ocean for my 3,800-meter (2.4-mile) swim. The water ended up being warmer and calmer than I was expecting, plus I was able to see all the way to the bottom. We swam straight out 200 meters to the first of many buoys, then took a right turn. After participating in numerous triathlons before, I knew that I wanted to hang back a little and let the speedsters take the lead. Nothing like getting kicked in the face or tackled from behind or punched in the sides (all on accident) that always happen in these open water swims. Reading beforehand, I had the mentality that I needed to cruise for 90% of the swim. Find my rhythm and stick with it.
Since there were so many people swimming, it didn’t need to “spot” very much. Just follow the feet in front of me and hope they were going straight. I still looked up every once in a while to make sure I wasn’t veering off at an angle. Aside from ingesting what felt like several gallons of salt water, I was doing fantastic in the swim. But don’t push too hard, I still have a marathon to run.
Throughout the swim, I would feel a some hands on my feet as people were drafting off me. Then they would pass. At the same time, I would draft off someone else and play pitter-patter with their feet before passing them. It’s all part of the game. With about 800 meters (1/2 mile) to go, I glanced at my watch and knew that I was truckin’. My goal was to come out of the water before 1:30:00. The fastest I had swam in the pool was 1:12:00. Climbing onto shore, I noticed my watch said 1:15:13. Pretty stoked about that. Unfortunately, the time I had saved was about 5 minutes away from not even mattering.
Transition 1 (swim-to-bike)
In the tent, I took some time to catch my breath, burp out the sick feeling from the salt water and get dressed for the bike. I was thankful to be on dry land and looking forward to the next discipline. Along with the masses, I come running out of the tent and into the bike park. I find my bike and my heart sank.
The back tire was flat! What? Then I noticed that the front tire was flat as well! Are you kidding me? It was surreal. I was in a state of shock. Both tires were blown. Do you know how long it takes to change one tire, much less two? I quickly ask a nearby official where the mechanic is so that I can get some aid. “Oh, he’s about 14 miles down the road in the middle of the course.” Uhhh…is there a pump nearby so I don’t have to use the tiny, portable one? “I will look for you.”
After about 3 or 4 minutes, I finally get past the denial phase of what’s happening and get to work on changing both tires. I’m still breathing hard, not thinking straight and terrified that I just trained this long to barely get out of the starting gate. Plus, it’s very challenging to change a bike tire in a hurry. You keep messing up and not getting it to fit. After another 5 minutes, I have both tubes in the tires, the tires back on the bike and now looking for a pump to use. I wasn’t the only one with a flat, but I was the only one with 2 flats. After waiting about 2 more minutes for a guy to pump up his tire, I grabbed the pump from him and began airing up. The back one, filled up no problem. The front one, almost at 100 psi, I hear a loud hiss and it was blown. Seriously?!?!?! A 3rd flat tire. You can only imagine the depression setting in at this point. Here is where the mental training comes into effect to not give up.
Remember that sweet lady official I mentioned? Well, by this time she is standing nearby blaring into the microphone to “Cheer on Padgett from Texas! He came all the way and is struggling with 2 flat tires. Wait. Now his front tire went flat again. Poor guy. Let’s encourage him not to quit.” A group of about 10-15 people had all gathered nearby to root me on. A few more minutes after that, I had changed a 3rd tire and it was pumped up and ready to go. People cheering, the lady on the mike pressing me on, a long bike ride ahead.
Instead of blazing out of the bike park with all that encouragement from the group of folks around me, I had to pee. So I leave my bike on the stand and run over to the porta-potty. Guess who is announcing to everyone what I am doing? Yep…mike-lady. But after my painful ride in Lisbon 5 months ago “holding it”, I wasn’t going to make that mistake again. And then I’m out of there after about a 30-minute delay!
The Bike
Now it was time for the 180-kilometer (112-mile) bike ride. Well, that depression that started to sink in during the tire changing only grew stronger and stronger for the first 1.5 hours. Amy had been waiting up the road for me to pass and was concerned that the swim was harder than I anticipated. When I passed her and told her what happened, she tried to encourage me. But the roots of depression were too deep.
The mechanic station was about 14 miles down the road. I had no more spare tires on me, my back tire was only partially pumped up and my front tire kept thumping every rotation. It’s like I was driving that car in “Blue’s Brothers”. I was just waiting for the bike to fall apart. I don’t know how, but I made it down to the mechanic after about 45 minutes of pure depression, anger and frustration. I was completely defeated mentally. The gracious man then pumped up the back tire and tried to pump up the front one.
But you can probably guess what happened again. Hissssssss. Yep…the front tire was blown again. So he changed it out, but added some plastic tubing to the inside of my wheel to keep it from blowing again. All told, that little pit stop cost me another 10-15 minutes. By that time, I was just downright pissed.
I hopped back up on my bike and began the grueling ride. It took a long time to clear my head and get properly focused again. Songs in my head, video clips I had watched, words people had spoken to me. Whatever it took, I had to get back on track. At one point, I rode up alongside and guy from the UK that was waiting for his 60-yr-old mother-in-law. My response to him when he asked me how I felt: “absolutely miserable.”
“How bad do you want this? If you want it more than anything else, YOU WILL COMPLETE IT!” he told me. “If you have competed in Tri’s, you know that a lot of people walk on the run. Plenty of time.”
Head down, pushing into the wind, I just kept going even though I couldn’t. Numerous times on that bike ride the thought would rage in my mind, “I can’t do this. I’m not able to get it done.” But by faith, my answer was always, “BUT I DID IT!” Sometimes it is better to live in the future looking back than to live in the moment. (Might preach on that someday)
With about 34 miles to go, I realized that the cut-off time for the bike was rapidly approaching. If I didn’t pick it up, I wouldn’t even have the opportunity to embark on the marathon. With head down and legs pumping, I pressed into the 15-mile-an-hour head wind for the first 17 miles, then soared back those last 17 miles in about 35 minutes. I don’t know how to explain it, but one of the best times I felt the entire day was biking from mile 95 thru mile 112. It was exhilarating. Plus I passed about 7 or 8 people.
Just before pulling into the bike park, faithful Amy was there on the side of the road to keep cheering me on. She told me not to give up and that she would see me later during the run. Boy, was that an understatement.
Transition 2 (bike-to-run)
Not a lot to say about this transition. I did notice that most of the professionals had already finished the entire race before I had even started my 42-kilometer (26.2-mile) run. But they need to feed their families on days like this. I was just out to enjoy myself.
I did meet a man named Dominic who had just finished his bike. We decided to start running together, but I quickly peeled off cuz the dude had super-human legs. I couldn’t keep up with that. Plus, I remembered that my Triathlete Hero (Keith Riley) had told me “slow and steady finishes the race.” Was he ever telling the truth.
The Run
It was during the very 1st mile of the run that I knew in my mind that I was actually going to finish and become an IronMan. Plus I still had 6:40:00 left to complete the race before the official cut-off.
The first of my four 6.5-mile laps went by relatively smoothly. Sure wasn’t tearing through the course, but I felt pretty good. It took a while to get the legs stretched out and transitioned into running. And I did make sure to walk a couple of minutes at every aid station instead of pressing through it. You can’t sprint a marathon (unless you need to feed your family).
By the time I started the second lap, things started to get a little more hairy. The bounce in my step had somehow called it a day. The hopes for a 5-hour-marathon vanished real quickly. But I kept pressing on! I knew that a mile down the road, Amy would be waiting for me to cheer me on. Couldn’t let her down.
When I finally did see her (about mile 7.5) she tried to encourage me by saying, “You in the home stretch! Almost there!” For anyone who has ever run a long distance, you are generally just warming up at mile 8, not finishing. Since I had broken the day up into numerous bite-sized sections instead of one large mass, I just started laughing. Mentally, my marathon was broken up into 16 parts (aid station to aid station every 1.75 miles). Her encouragement came at part 5. No way was I in the home stretch. But to her, I had just completed 121 out of 140 miles. Seeing it from that perspective, I get it now.
Miles 7 – 13 were a blur. Passing people, being passed. Shuffling along, walking a chunk. Just making sure to put one foot in front of the other. I knew that once I finished my second of four laps, I would only have a half-marathon left to go. The way the route was set up, we had to run right by the finish line three times before we could cross it on our fourth. It was at that second passing that the mike-lady saw me and wanted to know how much further I had. In front of hundreds of spectators waiting at the finish line, she said, “Keep cheering on Padgett from Texas! He had such a hard time this morning, but only has 2 more laps to go.”
About mile 14, I came upon Amy again. I had run through the previous aid station so that I could take some time to walk with her. We walked together for about 5 minutes, knowing that the 3rd lap is by far the hardest of the 4. She was such an encouragement the entire race. But the last 2 laps I really do not think I could have done without her by my side.
Since most of the “fast” folks had finished the race by this time, us turtles were allowed to listen to music if we desired. I popped in my iPod nano and trucked down the road at a great pace for miles 14.5 through 17. I didn’t stop once and was feeling great, relatively speaking.
But what almost always happens about this time in a marathon: THE WALL!
I have hit the wall in other Tri’s and races before. I even knew it was coming. But I have NEVER felt that bad before in my life. It was beyond horrific.
From miles 17 through 18.5, I wanted to throw up, my stomach dropped out, was completely light-headed, could barely move my legs, had nothing mentally in me to push and just wanted to sit on the nearby bench and die. I think I walked for at several 5-minute stretches before shuffling again. “Just make it to Amy. Just make it to Amy.” Finally, I saw her sitting under the lamp post waiting for me and knew everything was going to be alright. I had pressed though it. She walked beside me and prayed for me. She then tightened the backpack and jogged a good half-mile with me. I don’t think I ever want to experience that 20-30 minute period again for the rest of my life.
Once past it, I finished lap 3 and saw mike-lady near the finish line calling out names. And again, she got the crowd to cheer me on for my final lap. And oh how delightful that final lap was!
I saw Amy back at the bridge where I had just left her. Told her that I was going to be okay and would be at the finish line soon. Go and wait there for me!
Miles 20 through 25.5 were absolutely amazing! I turned on some more worship music and connected with Jesus in such a sweet way. Obviously the course was pretty much a ghost town by this time. That enabled me to sing out loud and praise Him while still encouraging all the other tail-end stragglers out there. Plus, I didn’t stop once to walk during that final lap. I found my easy 12-minute-mile pace and kept it up. And for some reason, I think I passed at least 10 people on that last lap. Can’t even begin to describe how great it felt.
For some reason, when I was about ½ mile from the finish line, I started to get nauseous and light-headed again. I was staggering a little bit and got somewhat concerned. Then I realized that I was afraid of success. I was about to accomplish a huge feat that I had been training for years on, and got really nervous for being successful. Once I pushed those thoughts out of my head, I pressed on that final 0.2 miles to the finish line.
The Finish
I wasn’t quite sure if there would still be anyone left in the stands waiting at the Finish Line for all of us stragglers. But I did know that my wife was there waiting for me! As I turned the corner, I heard the music blaring and noticed at least 100 people still waiting around. It was fantastic! And faithful microphone lady was ready to call out my name.
“All the way from Texas, and with the longest transition time in the bike area, here comes Padgett to the finish line!”
Cheers & cheers, high 5’s from those waiting, the overhead clock reading 14:51:00 (minus 20 minutes cuz I started in a later wave) and my faithful wife standing right next to the line videoing the finish. As soon as I crossed that finish line, they put a medal around my neck and handed me my shirt that says, “2011 FINISHER”
I don’t think I will ever be able to fully describe how I felt when I finished. The joy, the relief, the sense of accomplishment… Words can’t begin to describe how I feel after completing a life goal.
Misc
* For my birthday, I got a Texas cycling jersey specifically to wear for this event. Throughout the day, esp during the run, I would hear people yelling, “Go Texas!” or “Hook ‘em Horns!” It felt so awesome to represent the great State of Texas here in Spain!
* During the last month of training, numerous aspects of my body felt like they were breaking down on me: one of my big toes, my left ankle, both my hamstrings, my left bicep and then pulling the muscle in my back about 10 days before the race. I guess overtraining can do that to you. I spent the last week before the race doing very little. And I also asked numerous folks to pray for my health. I am able to say that not a single thing bothered me the entire 140.6 miles except for my right hamstring wanting to tighten up with 3 miles to go. (These couple of days after the race are a different story. My legs are aching!)
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Recovery/Taper Phase
After a very hefty week, I am finally at the recovery / taper phase of my training. With only 29 days to go until the big event in Barcelona, my body is starting to break down and rebel.
This past week were several larger swims, a bike up to Ifrane (where the chain busted again and I didn't have the joy of returning down the hill), and an 18.5 mile run. This morning was a light 30 mile bike to stretch out the legs and grease up my new chain.
In regards to the bike, Simo and I were planning on a 6-hour ride. We humped it up to Ifrane in a little less than 3 hours without stopping. Three weeks ago, I did the same trek and stopped twice for 5 & 10 minutes. Overall it took 3:15 riding time, but 3:30 total. I was very encouraged by the strength in my legs, the ability to breathe just fine and how much I still had in my tank when the chain broke up at the top of the mountain. Really buggered that I didn't get to return, but was greatly encouraged mentally.
In regards to my run, I started out at a nice easy pace. I was actually focused and engaged within the first mile. Normally it takes about 3 - 4 miles for me to fully get focused and in the groove. It wasn't until mile 7 or 8 that I realized I might be able to hit 13 miles around 2 hours. I pressed on and was able to complete the first 13 in 2:04:00. By far the best time I have ever run. I realized that on a race day for a half-marathon, I really could post under 2 hours. That's encouraging. I finished the final 5.5 miles just fine. At the end, I was still able to get my pace below 9 minutes/mile. And the amount I still had in my tank was outstanding. Overall, my pace was 9:45/mile. That is way faster than I have ever done on a long distance run. Greatly encouraged again.
To be able to finish my final push week posting some of those times and distances, I am mentally encouraged and excited. Now I need to rest my legs, my arms and my mind for a couple of days. Then I need to keep pushing on and finish the training strong. But not over push myself. Trust the training plan.
This past week were several larger swims, a bike up to Ifrane (where the chain busted again and I didn't have the joy of returning down the hill), and an 18.5 mile run. This morning was a light 30 mile bike to stretch out the legs and grease up my new chain.
In regards to the bike, Simo and I were planning on a 6-hour ride. We humped it up to Ifrane in a little less than 3 hours without stopping. Three weeks ago, I did the same trek and stopped twice for 5 & 10 minutes. Overall it took 3:15 riding time, but 3:30 total. I was very encouraged by the strength in my legs, the ability to breathe just fine and how much I still had in my tank when the chain broke up at the top of the mountain. Really buggered that I didn't get to return, but was greatly encouraged mentally.
In regards to my run, I started out at a nice easy pace. I was actually focused and engaged within the first mile. Normally it takes about 3 - 4 miles for me to fully get focused and in the groove. It wasn't until mile 7 or 8 that I realized I might be able to hit 13 miles around 2 hours. I pressed on and was able to complete the first 13 in 2:04:00. By far the best time I have ever run. I realized that on a race day for a half-marathon, I really could post under 2 hours. That's encouraging. I finished the final 5.5 miles just fine. At the end, I was still able to get my pace below 9 minutes/mile. And the amount I still had in my tank was outstanding. Overall, my pace was 9:45/mile. That is way faster than I have ever done on a long distance run. Greatly encouraged again.
To be able to finish my final push week posting some of those times and distances, I am mentally encouraged and excited. Now I need to rest my legs, my arms and my mind for a couple of days. Then I need to keep pushing on and finish the training strong. But not over push myself. Trust the training plan.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
The bleary after the sickness
Earlier this week, I was on track for a very hefty week of distances. On Monday, I knocked out a nice 6 mile run. Tuesday saw me ride for 20 miles, swim for 2500 meters and then run in the afternoon with the kiddos for a few. The morn of Wed, I endured 3500 meters in the pool, then pulled up a little early due to a tiny pain in my bicep. Didn't want to push it too hard.
But then the stomach bug hit that afternoon and I was incapacitated for 48 hours by some major D. The worst I have experienced in many years. Think I lost close to 10 pounds in 3 days.
So today I wanted to get back into the swing of things. A nice 10-miler helped this morning, but I could tell by the end that I am still not back to 100 %. I felt fine, just a little on the slower side. No worries.
Think I am sad, though, that half a week of major workouts got taken from me. Wasn't able to run 3.5 hours like planned or bike for 5 hours today. But I will make those happen this next week. Should push fairly hard for the next week and a half or two, then start my taper.
But then the stomach bug hit that afternoon and I was incapacitated for 48 hours by some major D. The worst I have experienced in many years. Think I lost close to 10 pounds in 3 days.
So today I wanted to get back into the swing of things. A nice 10-miler helped this morning, but I could tell by the end that I am still not back to 100 %. I felt fine, just a little on the slower side. No worries.
Think I am sad, though, that half a week of major workouts got taken from me. Wasn't able to run 3.5 hours like planned or bike for 5 hours today. But I will make those happen this next week. Should push fairly hard for the next week and a half or two, then start my taper.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
From Meknes to Rabat
88.5 miles
5:13:30
About 17.5 mph
Strong head wind for the last 35 miles
And I still felt great upon arrival at Mark's door. Could have easily popped on my running sneakers and gone for a stroll.
5:13:30
About 17.5 mph
Strong head wind for the last 35 miles
And I still felt great upon arrival at Mark's door. Could have easily popped on my running sneakers and gone for a stroll.
Friday, August 5, 2011
oooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...........
I just finished running 17 miles in 3 hours. And my dogs are barking so loud. Guess I have run many long distances in the past few months. Sure could tell today. Why do we do this to ourselves?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
