*This road will be closed from 3AM to 3PM on Saturday May 7.*

Those words screamed out on the large orange sign my friend, teammate, and Ironman St. George roommate, Lynne Fiedler, and I read as we made the turn off of Highway 9 onto Telegraph road toward the home we rented for race weekend. Unbeknownst to me, the lovely house that I booked back in September was located on the bike course! However, that gut plummeting realization was the second hurdle of our highly anticipated race weekend that had barely even begun.

The first hurdle popped up when I realized about two hours into our six hour drive from LA to Southern Utah that I forgot to grab the bag I packed to the brim containing all of my race-day nutrition. While we were driving, it was sitting on my kitchen counter. Honestly, I was not too bothered by each of these mishaps. There are so many details to consider when preparing for an Ironman that something is bound to be missed, and I have found that *most* problems can be solved with two ingredients, creativity and money.

First off, my nutrition debacle was rectified by the fact that Lynne had a bag of Picky Bars (the only item I knew I could not replenish in St. George) at home that her fiancé, Shimshon, could bring with him when he traveled to St. George the following day. And the house issue, well, the house was gorgeous, (and paid for), so we wouldn't be abandoning it completely as it served as an excellent “home base” all weekend, but we did scramble to find hotel rooms in downtown St. George for Friday and Saturday so *we* (Lynne and I) wouldn’t have to leave for the shuttle busses that drove us to the race start hours before we needed to, and our crew (Shimshon, and my friend, Heidi, who was driving up from Sedona to support me) would not be locked out of the house all day if they wanted to relax while we were racing.

And voila, we solved our housing problem after doing a quick search online, and found available rooms at The Chalet Motel which was conveniently located about a mile or so away from Towne Park, the heartbeat of the race festivities. Next, my nutrition gaff was solved when Shimshon safely delivered Lynne’s Picky Bars, and after I bought plenty of gels at the race expo, plus a few Stinger Waffles at a local bike shop after check in. Therefore, with our pre-race worries dashed we could finally focus on the task at hand, racing a very difficult Ironman on Saturday.

**Lynne Fiedler and I signing the wall after checking in. (Thursday morning). Photo credit: Paul Semnacher.**

Thankfully, we were treated to some fun “free” time on Thursday afternoon/evening as we invited some of our friends, teammates, and fellow racers over to our house to catch up and talk race-day "racing" and "spectating" strategy. I knew it was going to be a very special race with so many incredible people cheering us on all day.

**Fellow** **Biscay Coaching** **athletes from left: Jess Zaiss, Dave Lundberg, Lynne Fiedler, Amy Hite, Heidi Videto. (Thursday afternoon).**

**Pro cheer squad, from left: Liz Shultz, Sanger Lee, Lynne Fiedler, Jenn Aronson, Heidi Videto. (Thursday night).**

Here we go! RACE DAY!

Swim:

**Transition 1, Sand Hollow Reservoir.**

I was awake by 3:15A on Saturday morning, and then out the door in the already warm air ready to meet Lynne and Shimshon for a quick ride to the shuttles by 4:20A. The swim was designed as a wave start separated by age groups, an annoying, but understandable safety precaution that Ironman adopted in order to keep a better eye on swimmers in distress in the water. Personally, I believe that Championship races should be a mass start, or an all women's and men's start like we had in Kona in 2018. In essence, if we’re racing at the Championship caliber, then we should be able to handle a tougher swim. Nevertheless, #safetyfirst.

My age group (40-44 women) was set to hit the water at 7:47A MST, but Ironman moved up the start by ten minutes, so I was in the water before 7:40A. Unfortunately, I was suited up and sweating in my wetsuit for about 30-40min. prior to dipping into the Sand Hollow Reservoir, a needful, yet unhelpful necessity due to the wave starts. In any case, I was having fun chatting with some friends in line, and couldn’t wait to cool off once I plunged in the water.

**Swim exit. That's me in the back wearing the powder blue cap.**

I didn’t have any hard and fast goals going into the race because the course and weather could be a dicey and unpredictable combination. Plus, I tried that in 2012, and well, my day did not go as planned. However, since I usually finish the 2.4 mile leg of an Ironman swim between 1:07-1:14 hours, I was hoping for a 1:10, and to stay close to the buoys and not veer far off course.

I felt good, until I started feeling a twinge of a cramp creeping up my left calf about two thirds of the way through the swim. I fought it off until the final RED buoy turn, and then it seized my calf, and I just flailed around trying to shake it off. Not fun.

The cramp dalliance certainly didn’t help my swim, but I was still surprised to see more minutes had passed than I assumed once I looked at my watch while running toward the change tent in transition. I never time my swims, (that is way too depressing), but if my math was correct, (the watch read 8:54), I swam longer than I wanted to.

Swim Finish:

1:14:29

The change tent was a hot black hole of frenzied confusion. I am amazed and incredibly grateful for the volunteers that signed up to work there. While sitting on a plastic folding chair, rifling around to find my black sock that became invisible against the pitch-black carpet, I ate a Picky Bar, and a bite of a Bobo’s Bar my friend Jenn donated to me on Thursday night. Next, I stuffed my back pockets with more Picky Bars, some gels and Stinger Waffles, then slipped on my shoes over my socks, (I found the missing one), clasped my helmet, and then ran out of the tent toward my girl, “Big Red” who was waiting for me on aisle “27.”

BIKE:

The first twenty or so miles of the course were a breathtaking and hilly out and back section that I had never ridden before in previous races in St. George (2011, 2012, or 2017). I felt good energy wise, except my left calf was nagging me, but I still chomped through the first uphill of the day with ease and had faith that the rest of the ride would be just fine as long as I ate and drank enough.

Unfortunately, I had slept horribly since we arrived in St. George. So I was a little sleepy through mile fifty one, which was not the most optimal place to close my eyes for a few seconds at a time to curb the fatigue because the winds picked up as we rode back toward the center of town. Thankfully, I saw Heidi near the top of Diagonal St. and her smile and positivity woke me up, and shifted my focus back into the race.

Clearly, I need to figure out my race-week sleeping issue. I am pretty positive I would’ve had a stronger day if I didn’t want to curl up and take a nap on the side of the road during most of the ride.

As we rode out of St. George onto the “Gunlock Loop” toward the steepest climb of the day, “The Wall,” I grabbed a Gatorade water bottle with a broken top. The twist portion didn't “twist.”

I kept my second bottle on my down tube as a failsafe for later in the day when I didn’t want to have a jumbling bottle on my front end bottle cage barreling down the descents, so every bottle I took served a purpose, you know, to secrete fluid, fluidly, but since this one bottle was a bust, I pulled over at the Special Needs stop to chug and it and toss it before the “real” ride began.

**Big Red loved the course! Photo credit: Ben McAdams.**

I have not-so-fond memories of the “Gunlock Loop” from both 2011 and 2012. It was stupid hot and exposed in 2011, and was crazy windy in 2012, but this year, it was calm and serene.

I was riding well, but not well enough, because I was passed by a few women as we swerved around the last couple of turns before making a sharp right up “The Wall.” My confidence was stung for sure, because although I knew my swim was terrible, and I was most likely nowhere near the top of my age group, I truly believed my “best ever” bike fitness would hold off any riders reaching me from behind, (older age groups), but nope, those ladies were strong and fast, and scooted right past me. Nevertheless, I cranked up “The Wall” just fine, and pedaled past a few guys who were walking up, crested the hill, soared past the Veyo Pie Shop, and enjoyed the long descent back toward town.

**Riding in the hot, hot heat. Photo credit: Ben McAdams.**

I had hoped to see Hillary on Bluff St. on my way back out of town toward the final climb of the day in Snow Canyon, and although I didn’t see her, I heard her cheer for me as I rode past an aid station which helped pep me up for what awaited me in Snow Canyon.

The four mile climb was not steep, but placing it from miles 98-102 was both creative and cruel. The spectacular views helped Zen me out as I slowly pedaled up the hill thirsty for another shot at the glorious descent down back toward town. I did have a loose bike goal of wanting to ride under 6:30 hours, because during our *many* 100mi. + 6,000ft. training rides we averaged about 6:27 hours, so I thought riding 112 miles + 7,000ft. under that mark would be solid.

Bike Finish:

6:18:52

When I pulled into Transition and hopped off of my bike (my cramped left calf nearly forgotten as it dissipated during the ride) the entire left side of my lower body locked up like I had never experienced before (the cramp was back).

Nevertheless, I entered into another pitch-black hot box of a changing tent, switched into a singlet, taped my right hammer toe down again, (the water loosened up the tape during the swim), drank some water, ate a gel, grabbed a few tosses of Base Salt, and hugged my friend and TeamSFQ teammate, Erin Trail, who was one of the magical volunteers helping us weathered and gross athletes changing from wheel-wear to running gear.

But as soon as I started running, I felt off.

**Starting the marathon, something is not right... Photo credit: Theresa Geist**

RUN:

My locked up left calf had crept up to my hamstring making it super tight, therefore throwing off my gait, and I felt as stiff as a board. I really wasn’t sure what was happening? All of my foot, toe, and hamstring issues over the last three years have been on my right side; this left side wobbliness was something new.

I wasn’t in a huge hurry, I just wanted to finish the race, so I tapped into the deep mental reserves of marathon experience I have accrued over the last twenty + years (this was marathon #59) and had faith that my legs would loosen up on their own accord.

“I don’t think this will be a fast marathon.” I mumbled to Hillary as I ran past her around mile two.

And it wasn’t.

But it was one of the best executed marathons I have ever run.

The course was tough.

There were multiple hills, tight turns that required careful footing, headwind, tailwind, and it was long. Twenty six point two miles never feels short. However, I opened up my stride on the downhills to gain whatever speed I could to knock off some time, plus I walked nearly every station to carefully take in water, Gatorade, and started drinking Coke waaaay earlier than usual, and I swigged more Red Bull than I did in college; the mission was to stave off bonking by any means necessary, and to keep moving forward.

I picked up some steam finishing up the first loop between miles 11-13, and actually ran some decent miles, but the early hills at the start of the second loop walloped with a headwind which slowed me down. Then my stomach started to tighten up around mile 17, so I backed off the fluid intake for a mile or so, and just cruised at a slower pace.

Around mile 19, the wind shifted to a breeze, or it felt that way, as I truly felt at peace.

I know this Ironman business is ridiculous, (the incessant marathon running, too), but I just love it; I love pushing my physical limits, reaching a suffering point, and then figuring out a way to overcome that suffering.

The last big hill was over mile 23, I was barely running, but I was running, and once I reached the top, I took off as fast as I could toward the finish. I still had three miles to go, but the hard work was done, my legs were loose, my heart was full, and I was ready to run!

I saw Hillary just before mile 25, and saw her she was holding out her phone, she was FaceTiming with my Dad and stepmom, it was awesome!

I held my effort, careful not to lose any momentum, and then a woman pulled up next to me, and then slightly out in front of me just past mile 25. For a few minutes I didn’t change a thing. I kept my pace the same, and figured I didn’t want to ruin her day by moving past her toward the finish, then I thought, “Wait, I am racing, too, why am I going to slow down? I feel good, so I am going to take off, and if she can catch me, good for her.”

I was alone as I made the final left turn on the course, that last surge ensuring that I would have the red carpet all to myself as I ran toward the finish line.

**Ironman #18 and Marathon #59, DONE!!**

Marathon Finish:

4:09:25

Overall Finish:

11:57:18

**Post Finish "Proof of Life." Photo credit: Heidi Videto.**

I am very proud of myself for finishing this race (many didn’t) it was hard, but fair, and although I might never race long again in St. George, I am glad I seized the chances (2011, 2012, 2022) to do it when I could.

There is a lot more to feel, write, process, and reflect about this race, but for now, I want to end it here.

But before I go, I want to send a massive thank you to my coach, Hillary Biscay for setting me up to successfully nail this race. I arrived at the starting line feeling fresh, healthy, and happy to race which is the real WIN of the day.

This is an "Oldie, but goodie" photo of Hillary and I at Tucson Training camp in 2018 that was taken after my favorite workout of all time, the 4-mile run after Mt. Lemmon. Also, featured, her son, Hill.:)

Next, I want to thank my friends and teammates, Lynne Fiedler and Jess Zaiss, for suffering, I mean training alongside me over so many miles these last few months.

**My badA$$ teammates, friends, training partners, and fellow IMSTG, 2022 finishers, Lynne Fiedler and Jess Zaiss.**

Also, I am especially grateful that my friend and teammate, Heidi Videto, accepted my request to support me over the weekend just in case I would falter like I did in 2011.

**Post race smiles with my #1 support, Heidi Videto.**

And finally, thank you to my #1 fan and title sponsor, my husband, Marion, who couldn’t travel to St. George due to work, (the people demand Stranger Things, Season 4), but who was watching and cheering me on all day from afar, and has for decades supported my passion for endurance, (marathons, triathlons, writing). I am so lucky to be loved so much.

The song and video choice this week is a repeat, but it is very fitting for the theme this week.