The Inaugural Ironman New Orleans' 70.3

The moral of the story: you get out of a triathlon what you put into it.

Therefore, running an average of four miles a week makes a 13.1 mile run race seem very long; putting on a wetsuit for the first time of the season minutes before your swim wave goes out makes for a nerve-wracking swim experience; applying sun protection to one part of your body won't make the rest of your skin immune to the sun’s rays; and pushing yourself to complete your most intense yoga workout to date two days before a half-ironman distance race is a bad idea.

One racer’s insightful tale of love, hate, happiness, sadness, pain, and relief, along with a little song and dance.

The day started with a 1.2 mile walk to the swim start. There were shuttle buses available, but with 67% humidity at 06:30 in the morning, standing in-line to get onto a fully packed bus didn't appeal to us. The walk to the swim start afforded us the opportunity to watch the pros swim along the shore below us in the water. The swim was a nice straight shot from point to point. The ride was flat and fast (well, for other triathletes). The sheer number of police officers blocking every intersection of the race that rode through the 'hood' was astonishing. The relationship that developed with the wind was that of love and hate - the relief from the humidity was refreshing, but the headwind was discouraging. Perhaps my proudest moment after the race was finding out that I beat out Tom-Tom-Tom-Tommy-Tom-Tom-Tom-a-Lot going through T2. He's got a typical triathlon story to clarify this result.

The run started off all right - hey, I was happy that I managed to remain upright and propel myself forward in a straight line. Seeing the five-mile marker made me think that the goal of running the full course would be achievable. By the time that I reached the nine-mile marker, I had stopped twice to stretch out my legs and hips (remnants of my yoga injuries), and was shuffling along. I never thought that I would be one of those people who would shuffle. To confirm my progress, I asked a few people whether I was propelling myself forward or just moving in place, and whether the shuffle resembled running at all. The responses consisted of reassuring smiles and, “yeah, sort of” replies. So, as you're sitting on the edge of your seat reading this report, you're probably wondering what kept her going? How did she push through the adversity that life was presenting her with? Well, how does any true athlete handle such a situation - the boredom was countered by singing (sometimes only in my mind and occasionally at a low hum) the Sound of Music tune that starts with “raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens” ... again and again and again.

The best experiences in the race were the kisses (yes, from Joe) around mile two of the run and at the end of the race. There were other positive experiences, but I'll have to hire a psychiatrist to help counsel me through my thoughts. I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow that night (hopefully, you don't before you finish reading this report). So, here’s another lesson learned from this trip: New Orleans is there for fun, drinking in the streets, creole delicacies, relaxation, and dancing to the sounds of the zydeco band.

Short And Sweet

Hello Everyone,

Some of you I have already talk to about my first 100 miler, so I will make a long painful story short and sweet. I had to pull myself out of the race at mile 62.5 because of some intense foot pain. After seeing the medial people, they suggested that I go to the local ER for x-rays.

I have a torn ligament and several bone fragments in and around the left ankle area. So I will be seeing an Ortho doc on Monday. I will be sending out a more detailed race report in a week or so.