What a horrifically self testing day I had at Ironman New Orleans 69.1 . . .
Lets talk about Friday and Saturday leading up to Sunday's NOLA 70.3 race.
I began having cramps in my stomach. I was feeling woozy, but didn't feel sick. I tried not to think much about it thinking it was just a fluke feeling. THEN the onslaught took over and I was poooooooo-ing non stop. HOW ABOUT THAT FOR TMI!!!
This continued into Saturday and I was worried.
I had put at minimum a bottle of Pepto Bismo in my belly as well as a small bottle of Imodium AD . . . How did that help you you ask?
NOT A BIT.
As I drove to the race site Sunday morning I was convincing myself to do this race, but I was losing the battle with myself.
I am only competent in one area of my triathlon and that is the swim. I like my bike, but the bike hurts. I actually love the swim and never feel tired or as if I have exerted much energy during the swim.
OF COURSE - The swim was canceled due to high winds. First let me say this. There has been much discussion about whether the race should have been canceled. I think it was the best call at the time from what I saw.
TIME TRIAL Bike start.
The wind was in out face and beating the tar out of me the first 10 miles and then I got hit with my first of many stomach cramps. I'm thinking I was on my period, as if I knew what that is like . . .
This continued for the entire bike and I thought it might be the BIG D - diarrhea - kicking in again and so I hit the port o potty and nothing, but more cramps.
As I pulled into transition - beat by the wind and tore UP by the cramps I had decided I was done. Just put a DNF by my name I was cooked, done, it was OVER. I even told a few of my friends that I was toast and not going out on the run . . .
I arrived at my rack position, racked my bike and began packing up my transition bag to go home.
I had a record breaking 21 minute transition!
I was not going to be a puss for my first major tri that I was prepared for since my major surgery in Jan 2010 because of a little cramping in my little belly . . .
So I was off on the run . . .
Needless to say I was pissed at myself for the next 13 miles for not just taking a DNF, but I finished.
It was ugly, I spent more time in port o potties than one person should have. I high fived people, I cheered for others, and ultimately like a wounded dog, I shuffled across the finish line.
I feel horrible today and I still have the sh*ts, excuse my french . . . But I finished.
It was ugly. I was ugly. I hope I feel better.