Warning: long RR entry ahead.

Sunday was arguably one of the most challenging days of my life. Scratch that. It was the most challenging day, period. I have had a few days that were more difficult mentally, but nothing comes close to being as challenging physically.

Pre-Race

I really hate to say it, but I'm honestly glad I spent most of the race weekend on my own. While it would have been nice to have more family and such support during the race itself, I was able to focus and just concentrate on prepping mentally for the big day. I didn't have to worry about friends and family being entertained, getting bored, etc. I ran into some fellow racers from CO, and also met several new people in the days leading up to the race. One of the funniest was Casey. I met her when I had dinner Friday evening. I was out at this little pub in downtown Madison, and she thought it was funny how the squirrel in the tree above kept throwing berries down at me. Having said that, I loved having dw_duck show up Saturday evening. I had gotten plenty of rest leading up to the race and knew I wouldn't sleep much Saturday night. It did help to have a friend to hang out with before crashing Saturday. I really appreciated that. More than I could say.

Race morning finally arrives. Why did I even bother with a 4:15 wake-up call? I was up and down all night. I knew I would be up anyways. So, shower up, grab a banana and some water on my way out and head down to Monona Terrace. I was lucky and got a spot in the parking structure a block from transition. Cheaper than the race parking with the shuttle a mile away. It would also pay off having it later that night. Head in, get body marked, check on the bike, notice a little bit of a drizzle. Okay, nothing bad. Head inside, check all my transition bags, etc. Dropped off special needs. Start mentally prepping for the swim, head down to the waters' edge and suit up. Watch the pros take off. Head into the water. 5 minutes to go.

Swim

Now, I had never done a mass start before. I've done more than enough wave starts, but those only go about 100 or so people at a time. Now the announcer kept telling us how this was the largest mass start in Ironman history: 2475 athletes strong. All. Going. Off. At. Once. This was going to be interesting, to say the least. 7:00 rolls around, the cannon (yes, cannon) fires, and off we go to the sound of U2's Beautiful Day. Gray skies, slight drizzle. Someone has a sense of irony.

The swim consisted of 2 laps in Lake Monona. The outbound leg wasn't too bad. It was relatively close to shore, so was more or less smooth. The Inbound leg was anther story. We were further out on the lake. 2475 people swimming along. Little bit of wind. This made for quite a bit of chop. They don't call it the "Human Washing Machine" for nothing. Thankfully, no one actually swam over me. I did get knocked around, hit in the head, shoved and squeezed a plenty, though. The worst part, though, was the last 1/2 mile on the second inbound leg. There was enough chop around to make you more than a little seasick. Finally, 1:30:28 later, I made it in. Glad they had people there to strip off the wetsuits. I was dizzy enough as it was. The run up the helix to transition (spiral ramp on a parking structure) didn't help things.

Bike

Get into transition and grab my bag. Dry off a bit, debate whether I want to grab my jacket. I was pretty warm outside, so I decide to go with just the arm warmers. Suit up, grab some water, out to the bike and onto the course. At this point, its raining. Not too heavy, but more than a drizzle. Out on the course, any and all time goals are thrown out. The ride was on a rolling course. No real bad hills, especially not for me. However, with the rain, you had to slow down considerably in areas. I took AJ's advice and paced myself, riding very conservatively on the first loop. I knew I could be going much faster. I just kept telling myself that I had 112 miles to go. I was able to get over all the hills on the first loop without ever getting out of the saddle and hammering. To be honest, things were pretty miserable. Thankfully, around mile 40 or so, the rain let up for a bit. Now it was just drizzling.

At the halfway point, we roll through Verona. Lots of crowd support. Thanks, Luke, for being there. It helped a lot to hear you holler my name. Get to the special needs area and make a port-o-let stop. I also am warming up at this point and pull off the arm warmers. Heading out on the second loop, I'm feeling good and strong. I catch most of the people who passed me on the first loop. I start climbing some of the tougher hills out of the saddle. Less because I needed the power, more to just stretch things out. Around mile 90 I hear somebody shout "Way to go D3! I'll tell Mike how well you're doing!" No clue who he was, but it helped. Rolling back into Verona, though, is miserable. There's several intersections so wet that people are wiping out. We're having to slow down a lot more than we should. I have to break out the arm warmers again. The last 10 miles into Madison are horrible. Driving rain, wind, hills. We're all suffering. At this point, that little voice in my head starts to ask if I can do the run. SHADDUP! I shove it back in its little box and power on through. Finally, after 7:20:28 of riding, I climb the helix, they rack my bike and I head into transition.

Run

In transition, you see a lot of people wrapped in mylar blankets shivering. I'm cool, but doing okay. Take a seat and take some time gearing up for the run. Boy am I glad I threw an extra pair of socks in my run bag. Finally warm up, grab a half a turkey sandwich, some water. Quick pit stop and I'm out on the run. I'm feeling a lot better at this point. No arm warmers, just my normal top and shorts. Little cool the first 5 minutes, but then I warm up. The rain has, thankfully, subsided to more of a drizzle at this point.

A marathon is a grueling event on its own. After 112 miles of riding and 2.4 of swimming? Whole other beast. Around mile 2, I meet Sarah. She and I wind up pacing each other and running together for the first loop. That helped immensely. So did the crowd support. Running through Camp Randall stadium was also a nice little touch. After some time, we get back to the special needs area right by the finish. The rain and wind have picked up again, so I grab the long-sleeved top I put in my special needs bag. Glad I did that. The hardest part of the whole day was being 500 feet from the finish and knowing you had another 13.1 miles to go. Having said that, one of the best parts was hitting mile 14 on the run. We were away from the finish, so couldn't hear it anymore. Then, something clicks upstairs: I've completed more miles than I have left to complete! The feeling that thought generates is so phenomenal!

The rest of the second loop is pretty uneventful. The last 10 miles consists of a couple of hills, more rain, and wet feet. In a word: nasty. Overall, I was happy. I ran the entire first loop, only walking aid stations and the 2 hills on the UW campus on the second loop. About halfway between miles 22 and 23, there's this sign where people could enter messages for the racers. For me, it as a simple "92 J. Vrablik You are a winner!" At that point, I lose it. Emotions come flooding out. I'm 3 miles from the finish. Only 5k to go. I was actually going to finish this! Okay, bottle those emotions back up and just muscle through the rest of it. By mile 24, I start getting cold. By mile 25, I realize that my shirt is soaked. So, strip it off and toss it. Ah, much better. Last mile is in the rain, soaked feet, with just my sleeveless jersey and shorts.

At the top of Capitol Hill, I slow to a light jog, looking down on the finish. 100 yards to go, I soak it all in. Watch a guy finish, holding the hands of his two daughters. He crosses the tape, and I sprint the last 75 yards to make a leap through the tape. After 5:37:31 of running, I finish to the sound of "Joseph Vrablik, you are an Ironman!" There simply is no way to describe what I felt at that point. I had done it. 3 years of work, and I had done it.

Final times:

Swim - 1:30:28, 1750/2475
Bike - 7:20:28, 15.3 MPH, 1693/2475
Run - 5:37:31, 12:53/miles, 1720/2475
Overall - 15:02:52, 164/201 M25-29, 1740/2475 overall

Random Notes

Amusing things seen/heard while prepping/competing:

• "Dude, you gonna do a Gatorade bong?" (Ask Luke, aka dw_duck, to explain that one.)


• "How much was the entry fee again?"
  "$450.00"
  "You know, I would have been more than happy to cause you even more pain for far less."


• "You guys are doing great! You're awesome! You're amazing! YOU'RE NUTS! But you're awesome!"


• "For what we pay for them, they should pedal themselves up this damn hill!"


• At the last mile of the ride: "You're almost there! Almost there! Nearly done! With the swim!"


• About a lady who went barefoot into one of the nasty port-o-lets: "26.2 miles is a lot of time to let that stuff grow on your feet!"

Final Thoughts

I'm happy with this. Hell, I'm ecstatic. I finished. 140.6 miles in just over 15 hours. Given that I wasn't dry during any of that time, I'll take it.

Some people have asked me how I did it, mentally. Simply put, I compartmentalized everything. During the swim, I was thinking only about the swim. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing else. Same for the ride. What this did for me was keep me focused. There were plenty of people out on the ride asking how they were supposed to run a marathon after this ride. As far as I was concerned, there was no spoon run. This kept me from psyching myself out. Except for that one moment of doubt in the wind and rain, doing 12 MPH the last 7 or so miles in, not finishing never entered my mind. I simply didn't contemplate the possibility. To be fair, this may not work for everyone. I just happen to take after my father in this regard.

The crowd support was amazing. There were SO MANY PEOPLE out in the rain, cheering you on. Luke, hearing you call out my name and cheer me on made more of a difference than you could ever imagine. To have someone run next to you for 100 feet, cheering you on during the run, telling you that you only have 10k more to go, makes a difference. It may not seem like much, but it can give you enough of a boost to finish. For anyone thinking of doing MOO as their first IM, I can't say enough about it. Parts of the ride felt like the Tour de France with the crowds. Madison loves this race, and it really shows.

So, what next? Well, I'm not doing MOO next year. I was sorely tempted to sign up, but there's some things I want to do next summer that would be easier to do if I'm not at my peak training for an IM. Yes, I do want to do more IMs. So, I'm eyeballing IMFL. Hmm, might be fun to jump around doing the various IM North America races. We'll see.

To everyone, thanks for all the support over the last year! It means more to me than I could ever put into words. Now, I'm not doing anything active for a week. At least. Well, anything too active, at any rate. :)