Race Day!

August 29, 2010, (aka race day) was officially one of the longest days of my life!! It was so amazing in so many ways, and it's hard to really put into words all the mix of emotions and thoughts that filled the day.

The official rules of the Ironman include that it starts at 7 am and individuals must finish by 12 am. The Louisville IM is a little different because it has a "time trial start" instead of the normal "age group start." Typically, competitors are grouped by age and sex and each person starts at the same time as everyone else in her age group. However, at IM Louisville, competitors form one line and enter the water one at a time. Essentially, it's a first come, first serve style where people get in line and wait their turn. Like typical fashion, my two friends and I were in the port-a-potty (eh!) when the gun went off and sought the end of the line after the official start of the race. By the time we found the end of the line, we were at least half a mile from the dock and behind approximately 2,500 people! So, by the time we entered the water, it was around 7:35. This meant that we would have only 16 hours and 25 minutes to complete the race. Knowing this made me a little uneasy, but my two friends quickly assured me that I would be fine and wouldn’t need more than 16 hours anyway.

The 2.4 mile swim was okay, considering how much and for how long I had dreaded this part of the race. The water was warm so wetsuits weren’t allowed. We began in a cove, swam upstream at least a mile, and returned by swimming downstream to transition. It took me 1:48:03. I looked at my watch and thought, “Oh wow. Longer than I expected.” Shame. Entering transition, I saw few other bikes and knew that, with my late swim start and my slow time, most people would be much further ahead of me on the bike. Oh well, I like having the bike course to myself anyway!

Starting out on the bike, I knew the longest part of my day was just beginning. Knowing this weighed on me, and I spent a fair amount of time quelling those concerns and reminding myself that this race was something I elected to do! The 112 mile bike ride would be the longest distance I had ridden, considering that none of my training rides passed 100 miles. However, the distance did not concern me as much as knowing that it would take me a looooong time to complete it. The sun grew hotter as the day went on, and the hills seemed never ending. Race organizers set up a viewing area at miles 38 and 68, and I was SO happy to see my friends and family there on each pass! It really kept me going!! All along the way, there were so many people off their bikes, laying in the grass, and appearing as if they couldn’t continue. Each time I passed one of these individuals, I was thankful that I had not yet encountered any distress myself! I stayed as low as I could and pedaled as fast as I could, while at the same time tried to not destroy my legs for the marathon that lay ahead. Finally, I finished the ride in 7:50:58. Wow!! Almost eight hours.

When I got off the bike, it was almost 5:30 pm and it hit me that I only had 6 and a half hours to finish the marathon! On a good day, I could clear that easily. But with the way I felt after 114 miles and 10 hours of activity, I was concerned. I knew I could finish. But exhaustion begged my body to move as slow as possible. I wanted to walk and knew I could walk 26.2 miles any day. But, the unfortunate truth was that there was no way I could walk the distance in just six and half hours. I would have to run quite a bit (even if at a slow pace!) if I wanted to finish. Thankfully, two great friends found me and ran with me, encouraging me, and feeding me certainty. Each mile was consumed with dueling thoughts of considering the consequences of missing the 12 am deadline and KNOWING that I would finish. My run turned out to be my best split all day, and I finished in 6:18:38.

There were SO many incredible and amazing people I shared space with on that day!!!! First and foremost were my two dear friends who raced with me. One has been my best friend for over fifteen years, and I could never, ever imagine going through this journey without her. She pushed me and believed in me from day one! Happily, I’ll always call her best friend and teammate. The other friend and I haven’t known each other for as many years, but she is a kindred spirit nonetheless. She always had time to listen and was quick to reassure any fears or concerns I had about the race. Knowing that these two incredible women were out on the course with me kept me going. We each had our own race to finish, but I knew they could do it. And they knew I could as well. It was incredible to share the dream of Ironman with them and to watch the change in us all as we made our dream come true!

Second, my number one supporter was always my L. He was by my side from the first time I mentioned that I “might, some day, maybe” think about signing up for a race of this distance. We speculated about the time it would take and all the changes we “might” have to make to our daily lives. We had absolutely NO idea how much time training would take and how much it WOULD change our daily lives. He was ALWAYS supportive and was willing to do whatever he could to help me reach my goal. This support meant even more to me considering how busy his own schedule was as a medical student. All I can say is I’m absolutely the luckiest girl in the world!!!

Third, the presence (physical and spiritual!) of SO many friends and family members on race day meant so much to me!! Many took off work, traveled long distances, and went on no sleep just to cheer me and my two friends on. My parents, my brothers, members of my extended family, old friends, new friends, and best friends. They were all there, and it meant the world to me.

In the end, I finished the race at 11:52 pm, 16 hours, 17 minutes, and 55 seconds after I started. With eight whole minutes to spare, I crossed the line of IRONMAN with no hope to return. This day was a defining moment in history for me, and I know for years to come I will begin sentences with “The day I became an Ironman…”

They say that life is about the journey, not the destination. I say that’s true. But with just one caveat. The journey can be grand, it can be long, and it can change you along the way, if you are willing. But it is only upon arriving at your destination that you truly understand and appreciate all that was “the journey.” August 29, 2010, marked the end of my journey to race day but also the beginning of the longest and most difficult challenge I have undertaken. Here, the journey was the destination. Despite the difficulties of the day and the mental struggles I faced, my smile never faded. I was constantly mindful of the amazing opportunity I was living. All the hours of training, the injuries overcome, the fears refused, and sacrifices made were worth it. This journey was worth it all, ten times over. And, in fact, I realized some where along the road that day that the journey would have been worth it whether I made it before midnight or not. But it was soo much sweeter because it ended with:

“Meredith Kimmel, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!!!!!”

108

I got my bib number today. 108. I'm pumped that it's an even number! More importantly, getting the number, and knowing that I'll be picking up my race packet in one week from today makes me realize that this idea is a reality! The road has been so long, but the end is finally near. It's so exciting!! But also scary, and my heart has been racing all day, keeping time with all thoughts going through my head. I hope I have done enough, and I hope that I am thankful all day for the tremendous opportunity I am living and breathing.

My Old Kentucky Home

Throughout my training, I've seen many cardinals, which is the state bird of Kentucky (also Virginia and several other states it turns out!). Each time I see one, I think of how much this bird has meant to my family and how often I've seen his image during my lifetime. My grandmother, my grandfather, my parents, cousins, and so many others have shared their love and pride in this bird and their home state. It makes me feel a great sense of "rightness" with the fact that my first Ironman will take place in Kentucky.

My parents were both born and raised in the state, most of my extended family still lives there, and much of my childhood was spent within its borders. In a way, I really feel like I am coming home. This gives me a great sense of calmness and peace when thinking of the 140.6 journey I'll undertake on August 29. Because, while it will be a long day and it won't be easy, I will be home, traveling across land I've crossed so many times before. The eyes and hearts of all my family members will be on me and with me that day. And I know that there will be points in the day where knowing this will mean all the difference.

Songs of the Season

As most who know me could tell you, I love music. Music moves me like nothing else, and I am always singing to myself whether it's out loud or just in my head. In all the silent hours of this training season that I have had to myself, I have found that music always keeps me company and keeps me moving. Here are a few songs that always make their way into my head's rotation:

When I swim, I always think of a Raffi song that I learned as a child called "Baby Beluga." The song's full lyrics escape me, and I find myself repeating the same lines over and over.



"Baby Beluga in the deep blue sea,
Swim so wild and you swim so free.
Heaven above, and the sea below,
And a little white whale on the go.

Oh Baby Beluga, Baby Beluga, oh Baby Beluga"

Never fail, each time I swim, my head plays this song. There's something organic about the song that brings me back to my love of the ocean. I envision that baby whale gliding through the ocean's waters without a care in the world, feeling alive and happy just to be. For a moment, I am envious of that whale, and my heart longs to feel as carefree and at home in those wild waters as the baby beluga does.

On the bike, I often think of another song from my childhood. This one being, "Coming Round the Mountain."

"She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes, (when she comes).
She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes, (when she comes).
She'll be coming 'round the mountain, she'll be coming 'round the mountain,
She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes, (when she comes)."



When I was about eight years old, I had an almost life-sized doll named "Cricket" that had a tape deck in her back and moved her mouth to the music she played. This was by far the coolest toy I ever owned as a child! She came with me everywhere, and one of my favorite stories she told was the one including the "Coming Round the Mountain" song. So, now, when I'm peddalling hard, all I can think is "She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes..."

The song never speaks of when she actually gets there, it simply tells of how "she is coming." This is me, on all those rides that I thought would never end, where the only thought I clung to was to just keep going. The moving forward is the experience, and arrival is the end. Naturally, then, "she" is always "coming" and never "there."

Running is home to me. I began this journey as a runner, and nothing makes me more at ease than running. It's almost like meditation and is where I do some of my best thinking. For those reasons, it's no suprise that the most often song that comes into my head while running is "Man in the Mirror" by Michael Jackson.



"I'm Gonna Make A Change,
For Once In My Life
It's Gonna Feel Real Good,
Gonna Make A Difference
Gonna Make It Right . . .

As I, Turn Up The Collar On My
Favorite Winter Coat
This Wind Is Blowin' My Mind
I See The Kids In The Street,
With Not Enough To Eat
Who Am I, To Be Blind?
Pretending Not To See
Their Needs

A Summer's Disregard,
A Broken Bottle Top
And One Man's Soul
They Follow Each Other On
The Wind Ya' Know
'Cause They Got Nowhere To Go
That's Why I Want You To Know

I'm Starting With The Man In The Mirror
I'm Asking Him To Change His Ways
And No Message Could Have Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place
Take A Look At Yourself, And Then Make A Change

I've Been A Victim Of
A Selfish Kind Of Love
It's Time That I Realize
That There Are Some With No Home,
Not A Nickel To Loan
Could It Be Really Me,
Pretending That They're Not Alone?

A Willow Deeply Scarred,
Somebody's Broken Heart
And A Washed-Out Dream
They Follow The Pattern Of
The Wind, Ya' See
Cause They Got No Place To Be
That's Why I'm Starting With Me

I'm Starting With The Man In The Mirror
I'm Asking Him To Change His Ways
And No Message Could Have
Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World
A Better Place
Take A Look At Yourself And
Then Make A Change"

The song epitomizes how I feel about so many things and in so many ways. There is so much in the world that could be better and needs change. The only thing within your control is yourself; therefore, the best place to start is with you.

Who knows all that will go through my head on my fourteen hour race day, but you can bet your bottom dollar that these three tracks will be there at some point, feeling like familiar friends who have been with me all along.

The Three Questions

This morning I went for a run down by the canal towpath in Georgetown. The canal is one of my favorite areas to run in for many reasons. It's flat, made up of dirt and gravel, and surrounded by trees. Travelers can always find some shade, and even on the hottest days, its proximity to the Potomac makes it a few degrees cooler than the rest of the city. In fact, the whole scene can be quite enchanting. There are animals of all kind, and as the path winds, you feel like you’re running through the woods on a forgotten path to nowhere.

Today I saw a turtle resting against the bank of the path, with only his head poking out of the water. And, I couldn't help but imagine the little guy coming up to look around and just taking it easy. He reminded me of a book I read last night to L (the three year old I babysit) called "The Three Questions." It's based on the short story by Leo Tolstoy and features a boy asking "What is the best time do things?" "Who is the most important one?" and "What is the right thing to do?" The boy comes to learn from a wise, old turtle that the most important time is now, the most important one is the one you are with, and the most important thing is to do good to the person you are with.

I really enjoyed my run and felt strong the whole way. I began to wonder about the many ways we take care of the one we are with and also how often we forget to do that exact thing. In every circumstance in life, there is always another that we are “with.” And I’d have to agree with Tolstoy that taking care of that one is the most important thing. Not necessarily because we love that person or even know that person but simply because he or she shares in our humanity.

One of my favorite quotes has always been the following by John Wesley:
Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all times you can,
To all people you can,
As long as you ever can.

This is our calling. But it is up to each of us to discover our own destinies in fulfilling this calling. It is amazing to me to think that an Ironman is part of my life path, and I am awestruck with this realization every time it hits me. The most important time is now. And I have so many incredible people "with" me on this journey that I can only hope I am doing my part to take care of them along the way. I certianly could not do this alone and am deeply grateful to those who continue to take care of me. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

The journey continues

Yesterday I printed John Wooden's Pyramid of Success from the Internet (http://www.erhoops.org/pdfs/John%20Woodens%20pyramid%20of%20success.pdf) and pinned it to my bulletin board at work. Wooden's famous pyramid is the product of 14 years of work towards perfecting his ideals on what "success" is and how to obtain it. His cornerstones feature "Industriousness," explaining "there is no substitute for work. Worthwhile things come from hard work and careful planning;" and "Enthusiasm," saying "Your heart must be in your work. Stimulate others."

My dad is one of the smartest and most humble people I've ever met, and for years, he has had this same Pyramid of Success hanging in his office. This shows me one key thing: the Pyramid works. If your heart is in it, you show up, you work hard, and you keep at it, you will be successful. My dad is the greatest example of this in that he makes it his business to do everything he does "the right way," and he has achieved greater success than he probably ever dreamed. I can't imagine that he has ever laid around, looking to the sky, questioning his lot and asking for favor. Instead, he has always set goals for himself--high but within reach--and worked steadily towards them with the persistence of the best endurance athletes out there.

What I am learning more and more each day is that Ironman training isn't that much different than the life training we naturally get as we walk the Earth. There are times when the course is flat and smooth, others when it's rolling, and still others that test the very extremes of what are made of. The journey is long, and often times, there is no end in sight.

The components in Wooden's Pyramid are ones that will lead to success in physical contests and also in life. My dad has shown me one life's picture of "success" and what one man can shape himself into when he only cares to do so. So much of my Ironman training is cathartic and fills an emptiness that has developed in other areas of my life. I believe that the skills, confidence, and success I have gained through my training are transferable to other parts of my life. Like the muscle memory that my body has developed over hours and hours of physical training, the awareness of strength is becoming ingrained in my mind. And my heart and soul are beginning to see what I am made of.

Racing for a Cause

The first 5K I did as an adult was The Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. I signed up for many reasons, but the main reason was to honor my grandmother who was a survivor of breast cancer. I remembered her struggle and strength. The RFTC was a great way to take action and feel like I was doing my part to combat the disease that afflicted my grandmother.

Years later, again I decided to embark on a journey in honor of this cause and signed up for Komen's Breast Cancer 3 Day. A three day walk of a total 60 miles, this journey would not prove to be easy. However, I was empowered by the feeling that I was doing something to fight the horrible disease of breast cancer. The spirit of the walkers and crew was amazing! It was if in we were in a bubble within the world where people were united and we really did treat our neighbors as ourselves.

Thinking of what got me started in racing, I decided a few weeks ago that the Ironman experience would be so much more meaningful if I did for a cause. Being an attorney who is devoted to child welfare issues, choosing my charity was easy. The Children's Law Center in Washington, DC, is THE source when it comes to advocating for children in the District. The CLC employs attorneys and staff with the simple but noble goal of protecting DC's children. I have followed the CLC since I was in my first year of law school and cannot think of a greater place to raise funds and awareness for. I am really, really excited to part of their team for now!

Watch for fundraising events and follow my progress at www.mktris.webs.com. Also, you can make a donation by going to
http://www.januscharitychallenge.org and clicking on "How to Donate."

Thank you for all your support!!!

The Impetus

I spend my weekends at a shoe store. Well, we sell shoes, but it's not just any shoe store. It is one where dreams literally do come true. People walk into that store in every shade of life you can find. Young, old, fast, slow. Most are somewhere in the middle and just trying to be healthy. Many people come simply to replace their old shoes, the ones they've loved for miles but are ready to retire. Others come because they have received a prescription from their doctor saying, "go to them, they will help." Still others wander in just because it's there. We welcome all and take all. Whatever the need, the store usually has something to provide.

When I found my way to this store about a year and a half ago, I was down. I mean really down. Unemployed, overeducated, and with little "career" prospects headed my way, I had gone to the classifieds to find seasonal work. Thankfully, they took a chance on me and I on them.

It was in this store where I learned some of life's most important lessons. Lessons about hard work, determination, and finding a way to sometimes just let it be. It became more than a job to me, it was a community, a network, and a family. Some of the best people to walk the Earth can often be found within that store.

Getting this job at this running store was one of the best things to ever happen to me. It was a situation that I never wanted. I wanted to be a lawyer, using my degrees, and out in the "real" world. But, in the end, being there did more to shape me into who I am than many other "professional" experiences I have had.

It really is funny the way life works. Did I move from to Washington, DC, to work at a shoe store? Nope. But, would I have if I had known then what I do now? In a heart beat. Unfortunately, it took me a year of being in DC to stumble onto this place. Only in this space and time, did I really dare to open the doors to myself. And only under these circumstances did I decide to push myself to the physical limit and dream of the Ironman.

If not for this store, would I have set out on this journey I am on? Probably not. But, like I said, this store is a place where dreams come true.

Week 18

April 19, 2010

Today is the first day of week 18 of our 36 week training plan. By this time next week, we will be half way there. Do I feel half way there? No. Am I telling myself that I am? Yes.


This weekend was a turning point for me. There was a moment where I really knew within my heart of hearts that my goal is one I can obtain. It was on a five mile run that completed my four hour brick. A brick is when you do two disciplines in a row; so swim, then bike; bike, then run; etc.

On the run, I had a moment where I felt in my bones that I would finish this race. It was going to be rough, long, and the hardest thing I've ever done. But, for a moment, I believed I would finish.

Hopefully, the belief made a connection in my brain and the seed only grows stronger as time goes on. Either way, in 18 weeks, I'll set out on my 17 hour race that I've spent thousands of hours working towards.

Back in the Game

Sunday was the first time I have run more than five miles since the day of my worst decision ever. Almost six months ago, I did a marathon. I had an amzing time in the destination city, I had an amzing race, and I was so happy to finally run a marathon. So happy, in fact, that I figured why not do another one a couple weeks later?

A bib came across my lap, and I simply could not resist. I went into the Marine Corps Marathon thinking, "You can do this, you just did one, don't push yourself, but get to the finish line." After the first mile, my knees felt as if I'd already done ten. Mile eight and a sharp downhill forced my knees to buckle under pressure they weren't ready to bear. It was just too soon. I knew right then that it was going to be a looong day. Four and a half hours later, I crossed the finish line.

Doing that race was one of the worst decisions I've ever made, and one that I am still regretting to this day. My eyes were bigger than my body. All the racing I had done that year led me to believe I was up for back to back 26.2 milers. That day was a humbling one. I spent the better part of five hours debating whether it was better to quit and save my body the beating I was giving it or to finish despite the pain and adversity. Unfortunately, my sticktoitveness prevailed on that day.

The following weeks, then months, were spent hobbling, icing, stretching, medicating, and phsyical therapying. This was the first time in my life where I could not do what I wanted to do because of an injury. I never realized the frustration and fear that comes with injury. As someone who lives by making plans and setting goals, it drove me crazy to have no idea when these injuries would recover.

Since extra time in the pool never hurts, I spent my days doing what I could, minimizing my impact, and working with what I had, so to speak. About a month ago, I put on my running shoes again for the first time since race day, I laced them up and set out. My legs were strong, but my tendons tender. The conversation kept me going, and in the end, I did the whole five miles. One of the happiest days of my life! Knowing things would be ok was huge.

So over the next four weeks, I would run or run/walk up to an hour but never go near the ten miles that I would face at Cherry Blossom. Ten miles for average Joe Shmoe is hard, but ten miles for the former me was a breeze. So I wondered, where on the spectrum would I fall? I hardly slept the night before, worried that I might not even be able to go the distance. Race day came, the weather was amazing (even though the cherry blossoms had long since peaked and withered), and I was excited about being back at the starting line.

An hour and forty-three minutes later, I crossed the finish line, screaming and pumping my fist the whole way! Another best day.

Ironman it is!

After a year of racing in triathlons and road races of many distances, I decided that 2010 would be the year of the IRONMAN. Looking back on the last three years, I can say that this goal would not even be in my realm of being without many seeming mistakes and missteps. Of course there are also many "on purpose" things that have contributed to this journey, but even more situations where my lemons just happened to turn into lemonade.

A person I was speaking to on the phone once said, "First things, first." Sure, it's a common phrase. But his context made it relevant to me and the choices I make in life. I can plan, analyze, and over-program with the best of them, but ultimately you have to take care of what comes at you first before you can deal with anything you can speculate for the future. In this vein, I will start at the beginning.

In July of 2007, a very close friend said she was thinking of doing a triathlon and encouraged me to sign up. I thought, "Hey ya know, I'm only spending my days studying for the biggest test of my life (the BAR exam), so why not?" She broke down the distances in a way that I could comprehend, saying, "the swim is only one-third of a mile, that'll be less than fifteen minutes; the bike, just twelve miles, less than an hour; and the run, an easy 5k cool down." Sure, I'd walked a three day, sixty-mile fundraiser for breast cancer. But my motivation and fear of disappointing friends, family, and supporters kept me going. Not my own internal compass! And yes, I had technically completed a marathon (fortunately for me, it was one that didn't have a cut off, and they let me walk my happy self across the finish line nearly six hours after the gun went off). But this triathlon was different. This was something I had never done before and not something I had even considered. Sure I could move my two feet across a set distance, but my hesitation came from the essence of what a TRIathlon is. Swim? Bike? And only then do you get to run? Maybe...

I'd learned how to swim when I was eight years old so that I could go to sleep away girl scout camp without the threat of realizing my parents' fear of death by drowning. But I had never, ever attempted to move through water with the deliberate purpose of getting from point A to point B. This was new. Thankfully, my apartment complex had a kidney shaped swimming pool that allowed me to go about fifteen yards, round trip. It wasn't ideal, but it was enough to convince me that I could train enough to complete my two goals with swimming. First, don't drown. Second, make it out of the water.

I quickly learned that my Gary Fisher mountain bike that I'd just purchased for a whopping three hundred dollars wouldn't come close to cutting it on race day. Luckily, my friend knew a friend who had a spare road bike that I could use for the race. The day before the race, I showed up at his place of work, slipped on my borrowed shoes with cleats and did my best not to ruin his obviously expensive bike. Clipping in and out was tricky for any newby, but especially for one who totters through life, daily wondering when the next mishap will be. I climbed on, got my balance and successfully skated around the parking lot. Now, I was ready for the bike.

The run was what I looked forward to and what I was most comfortable with. My shoes were at least a year old and were probably lacking all the support I know now I would have needed. But I didn't care. This was the one part of the race I knew I could do. I wouldn't drown, crash, or look like I didn't even know this sport existed two weeks ago. Of course on race day, it's a whole different story. When she told me about the run, my friend failed to remind me that I'd be starting this little 5k over an hour into my I-can't-breathe-please-be-over race. The thing that I was proudest of in that run was that I made it three whole miles without music. I'd been too chicken to sneak mine into the transition area. It was probably the the longest run I'd done up till then sans my usual musical motivation.

When I rounded the last corner and saw the finish line down the stretch, I saw my friend. Later I learned she'd finished long before me. But in my race, she was right there at the finish line, cheering me on and pushing me across the line. My heart filled with pride because I was so happy to have shared this race with her. Not to mention the fact that I really could not believe what I had just done. And for that short amount of time, there was no bar exam, there was no job search, there was no life transition. There was only me, the distance, and the finish line.

A very wise man once said, "It's about having a goal. The goal gets you up every day and gets you to keep pushing on when you don't want to otherwise." I couldn't agree more, and for me, the Ironman, if nothing else, is the ultimate goal of what I can physically do. That first race showed me that I am capable of doing much more than I think, and the reward is the surprise itself. Can I make it all season? Can I finish the race? I don't know, but I sure am training as if I can.