Best Vacation Ever: Alaska Day 1

Best Vacation Ever: Alaska Day 1

Writing these post-vacation, hope my recall is good!

We started the travel day getting up at 5, taxi at 7:30, flight at 10. Barry and I planned to use one day passes at the O'Hare United Lounge, but no go...busy Monday morning so restricted access to only real members. Barry then dropped his insulated cup/vacuum lid (not Yeti..Menard's version) and it immediately cracked. We soon discovered mine leaked like a sieve when tilted, so will shop in Anchorage. Water bottles were required at our Lodge. This incident is important...stay tuned.

The majority of our plans were made through the Great Alaska Adventure Lodge. More on this AMAZING location and people in upcoming days. One of their preferred Anchorage hotels was the Lakefront. This hotel sits on Lake Spenard/Lake Hood, the largest float plane harbor in the world. Only 20% of Alaska is accessible by road; many people have personal airstrips and planes to reach their homes. Float planes flew overhead continually.

We took the gratis hotel shuttle downtown Anchorage to eat and buy water bottles. Had an early dinner at The Glacier Brewhouse, then off to an outfitter store. Managed to do all before the return shuttle scheduled. When we arrived, the shuttle was loading, clearly more people waiting than seats. Several irritated couples spoke up saying they waited an additional hour due to previous shuttle crowd, so we backed away. When it left, we started chatting with a woman unable to get a seat, and offered to share an uber.

This was my biggest God-incidence of the trip (I don't believe in coincidence!). Lisa was about our age, first time to Alaska. It turned out she was with Great Alaska as well, and would be traveling with us in the morning. And she was from Indiana. And, sadly, she revealed that this was to have been her 30th anniversary trip with her husband, who died in November after late stage cancer diagnosis. She courageously decided to come alone. We shared much of our trip, and it was a joy to get to know and spend time with Lisa.

Early night due to time change and 7:30 a.m. morning pickup. So much more to tell you! Stay tuned. Third picture is the tease...

Christmas, 2013

Christmas, 2013

Dear friends and family,
We hope this Christmas season finds you happy and well. Finally, we are in our new home. We love it – the river rippling in the sunlight; the great horned owl hooting in the evening; even the work raking, gardening, and planting.

I’ll start with the difficult news. Barry’s father, Cecil, passed away in May. He was a gentle, funny, loving man, a great father and husband. This November, Barry’s mother, Mary Kay, joined Cecil in Heaven. Mary Kay was an amazingly patient and generous mother of five, a woman of faith and grace. We will miss them always. This picture is Christmas, 2012.

After the Ironman, Ann decided to go for a real challenge: she returned to Carmel Catholic faculty, teaching five sections of Church History. 140.6 miles seemed easier at times! Ann visited her Mom once a week and loved planning and planting the new house gardens. Ann struggled with training through winter and the May move, but hit the bike/run/swim hard in summer.

In March, Barry took an early retirement from Mondelez (name of split-off international Kraft Foods). He stayed in Florida to host the kids on Spring Break, then joined Ann up north. Barry registered for Ironman Florida, the Steelhead half-Ironman, and Augusta half-IM. In June, an unfortunate bike crash and collarbone fracture derailed his training. First 6 weeks, no training. Next 6 weeks, limited to riding his road bike on a stationary trainer in the basement. He did this with dedication, up to 3 hours at a time. In August he was cleared to run and swim, so back to Florida.

We skipped Steelhead, but went to Augusta. Along the way, we stopped at St. Augustine, St. Simon’s Island, and Savannah. In Savannah, we saw our new grandniece, Charlotte! So sweet.
Barry had a great race, a personal best by 58 minutes; Ann improved her time by 15 minutes. Both enjoyed the push of Savannah River current for fantastic swim times.

Ann returned to Chicago for a week, visiting her mom and Sherpa-ing for Chris’ Chicago Marathon. Despite his rigorous class Georgia Tech classes, Chris managed to train and broke 4 hours in his third marathon. Kayla and Amy drove up, and Barry checked in via Skype for a celebratory family dinner.

November 2, 2013 found Amy, Ann, and Baker Buddies, Lynn and Mike D’Asta cheering Barry’s Ironman start.
The swim was intimidating with agitated, 10-foot breakers. After an outstanding swim (2.4 mi), he hopped on the bike and we retired to Waffle House for some well-deserved sustenance and rest. His bike (112 miles) was long and blessedly uneventful.

We greeted his return and cheered him onto the run. Barry endured the 26.2 miles and finished an IRONMAN at 15 hours and 10 minutes. We thank all for the wonderful support and encouragement throughout that day and for our fundraising mission, the Boomer Esiason Foundation for Cystic Fibrosis research.

No Ironman for either of us in 2014!

Amy started her second year of dual-language teaching at Dawes elementary in Evanston. She loves her students and work. Amy and her boyfriend Kenny adopted a Bernese Mountain Dog – Karma – who is the same age as Kayla’s Kaner, but will be three times the size. She is a gentle, sweet, playful giant, bounding about our property with joyful abandon. Amy is a cupcake master with such intriguing samples as bacon with maple frosting, pink champagne, and eggnog with spiced rum frosting.
Amy completed her first Sprint and Olympic distance triathlons.

In May, Kayla graduated with her Master’s of Science in Athletic Training. She happily accepted a position with her undergraduate school, Albion College and was assigned football as her first sport. We watch the games on the web and cheer (circumspectly, we don’t want it to seem we like athletic injury) when she runs on the field to care for a player.

Kayla started a family after graduation – Kaner, a mix-breed Australian Shepherd-hound mix challenges and delights her. Kayla ran her first marathon at Disney in January.

In addition to marathon training and biomedical engineering studies, Christopher enjoys swimming and lifting. He plays piano for the Sunday night Mass. He is constantly on the go, and is even involved in a start-up project for a student-invented medical device.








Our best wishes, prayers, and hopes for you that this year was one of grace and mercy, and that the next be blessed with faith, love, and laughter. May the peace of Christ bring you joy and encouragement each and every day.

Looks like I will be able to participate in the Augusta 70.3, so I'm being a lot more diligent about my training.

As a consequence, everything I own hurts.

Nevertheless, once I commit, I commit. Today I had a long run scheduled. No problem - weather looking good, with a break in the heat.

Last Sunday, when I went for my long bike ride (50 miles), I discovered I only had one GU (a nutritional gel with calories and electrolytes), no Gatorade. I made-do with the GU, seven fig newtons, and an FRS energy drink.

On Monday, I placed Amazon order for GU and Glide (anti-chafe stick). We are Prime members, so the Wednesday package arrival was perfect for my long run.

Last night, lying in bed (BTW, took five minutes trying to determine if I was LAYING or LYING in bed), I realized I missed my dog's barking cacophony when the FedEx man arrives. Turning off the alarm, I searched the porch, around the porch, the sides of the steps, and out by the garage.

No package.

Checked Amazon. Somehow my package missed the truck, so would be delivered Thursday instead.

Arghhh...went to sleep wondering if I had a race gel sample or two tucked away.

Morning.

Nope. No gels. Not in my backpack, not in my gym bag. Not in my race drawer, not in my work bag.

Walked the dog - 67 degrees, humid, but fine.

I have created a LOT of excuses during the past months for avoiding workouts, but today I am determined.

I decide to MacGyver some nutrition.

I need a base, some electrolytes, and some calories.



I put the FRS drink in the blender (I would like to appeal to FRS at this point not to sue me for inappropriate use and promotion of their product).

Turned on the blender.

Removed the center lid plug to add ingredients.

Added 1/2 teaspoon of salt.

Turn over the honey jar, and begin to add honey.

In high school, Mr. Vermillion was the Chemistry and Physics teacher. From his classes, I remember two things:

1) It is a known scientific fact that hair is as long inside the brain as outside. More girls were now in science classes because boys tangled their brains by growing long hair, like the girls.

He was joking.

He was bald.

2) ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS check the lid on a chemical container before using or pouring. If the user before you did not tighten the lid, a chemical spill could occur.

Sorry Mr. Vermillion. I failed.

The honey lid was not tightened. As I was the last to use the honey, I have only myself to blame. The lid went in and chop, crack, cringe, crunch.

I filtered the mess with my sieve, then went back to it, this time forgetting to put the lid on before turning on the blender.

I created quite the sticky mess.

Amazingly, I ended up with about 10 ounces of mixture. It didn't taste badly.

Have you ever picked up a new gel during a race and thought, "I need a gel. It's not my brand. Many people use it. How different can it be? I'll be fine. I need a gel..."

Then the nausea begins.

Weeellll...

I did run 10.2, my longest run of the season.

I did burp a lot during the miles, was queasy and uncomfortable. I probably drank about five ounces full strength total.

At the half way point I have water access, so I dumped most of the remaining concoction, diluted a couple ounces with water, and alternated at the point between water and diluted nutrition.

I fought through the last two miles, some cramping and fatigue.

And when I got home?

What awaited the mad scientist?

MY AMAZON PACKAGE!

Curse you FedEx.

Christmas letter, 2012

Late December/January:
Lorelai (Kirk’s granddaughter) baptized. Ann and Barry finish Disney World Goofy Challenge– half marathon Saturday/full on Sunday.

Christopher finishes Mickey Marathon – his first 26.2 – then hops on a plane and starts 2nd semester at Georgia Tech. Barry’s annual golf weekend marked by great weather and exaggerated fish stories.

February:
Ann spends great weekend with the D’Asta family in Phoenix. Barry travels to Brazil and Mexico, and Ann flies up for a visit with Mom D. Ann enjoys Miami’s Farmer’s Market, where a friend gifts her with an heirloom tomato plant and Ann is transported to tomato heaven every day.

March:
Spring break month! 13 visitors over 4 weeks – jet skiing, beach bumming, kite flying, and pool napping. Ann begins full out training for Ironman Florida.

April:
The excitement begins! Barry and Ann sell house and begin work to build their FINAL home on river front property in Libertyville. When we first saw the land, it said “home”.

May:
Amy graduates with her M.A. in Curriculum and Instruction with a Bilingual Specialization. She runs in Cincinnati Flying Pig half marathon with her Aunt Theresa. Ann’s bible study and choir end. Chris comes to Miami for a week before GT summer session. He takes job at the GT Recreational center. Barry helps Ann train; how many Bakers does it take to change a bike flat? At least two!

June:
Amy hired as dual language 4th grade teacher in Evanston, IL. Kayla completes first year graduate school at ISU. Ann and Barry move north into rental house. Ann drives up with dog and cat – Barry drives the bicycles up one day later. Ann’s van breaks down on 1-75 in the middle of rural Georgia. 95°. Manages to get off interstate and up a ramp to a safe area. Towed to a Days Inn in Ashburn – Ford fixes car next day. Barry meets up with and follows Ann through Atlanta, then veers off to see his parents. Ann safely arrives in Libertyville. Ann joins a coaching group to prepare for Ironman.

She discovers that the only correct aspect of her swimming technique is breathing. Barry and Ann ‘race’ the Bigfoot Olympic length triathlon in Lake Geneva, WI. Shared a terrific time at Kirk and Karen’s lake house with Dunkelberger Clan, complete with a one-mile lake swim.


July:

Swim, Bike, Run. Swim, Bike, Run. Swim, Bike, Run. Ann buys a used triathlon bike and slowly adjusts to the aero (resting on bars) position. She lacks the gift of balance. Bruises and scrapes follow. Enjoy Kayla’s summer visit. While condo hunting, Amy moves in with us. Break ground on house.

August:
Chris is home for two weeks between semesters. He vows never to take summer school again. Amy bids on a Chicago two-bedroom condo. House basement poured. On a mild Sunday, Barry and Ann participate in the Benton Harbor, MI Steelhead 70.3 Ironman. Calm Lake Michigan waters marked the 1.2 mi swim, lights winds graced the 56 mi. bike ride, and cheering volunteers made short work of the 13.1 mi run. LOVED it! Best of all, Mom D. played cheerleader – so much fun to see her face when exiting the swim.

September:
Ann, Barry, Dog and Cat journey down to Clearwater for Ann to finish IM training. Run, bike, and swim intensifies.

Ann swims in the gulf, runs in the heat, and uses an off road trail for bike rides now ranging from 50 – 80 miles. Kayla comes for a long weekend, a nice break from grad school and athletic trainer duties at Normal West High school.

October:
Chris visits for fall break. Amy closes on her condo. Kayla decides to run Mickey Marathon with a friend, starts training. Barry visits his parents and travels to Istanbul. Barry, Christopher and Kirk (Ann’s brother) run into the teeth of Hurricane Sandy, “oo-rahing” through the Marine Corp Marathon, escaping just ahead of the devastating storm.

November:

On November 3, Ann reached her long-held dream, swimming 2.4 miles in strong gulf waters, biking a windy, warm 112 mi., and jog/walking 26.2 mi. in 15:49:55. (Hours/minutes/seconds)
“Ann Baker, IS AN IRONMAN!”
Ann extends unbounded gratitude to those at the event (Barry, Amy, and Lynn D’Asta) and those who supported her from a distance. Ann fundraised for the Boomer Esiason Foundation for Cystic Fibrosis and thanks all that donated to her campaign.

Ann, Barry, Dog, and Cat drive home. House is framed with windows and roof. Moved Amy into her condo. Ann agrees to teach at Carmel Catholic spring semester. Chris gets a research position in adult stem cell lab. Kayla and Chris home for first full family Thanksgiving in 6 years. Barry visits parents.

December:
Looking forward to Holiday, Holy Days, Faith, Fun, Family, and Friends. We pray your year was blessed and that faith in the never -ending love of Christ sustains you through the ups and downs of this life.

With much love and gratitude – Blessed Christmas,

Ironman Florida, 2012 Race Report

I award everyone who reads this entire post an honorary "Ironman for Indulging an Ironman".

For the faint of heart: I am a 51 year old female, first time, one training year wannabe with a long-held desire to complete an Ironman. I did so on November 3, 2012, Ironman Florida, in 15:49:55. The end.

For the braver among you...

We arrived in Panama City Beach on Wednesday, October 31. Barry and I checked in at Laketown Wharf (Great rooms, close to Ironman central, only complaint is sparsity of elevators. Two banks at opposite ends of enormous complex). After we got The Girl (my bike) upstairs, I walked to registration.

Eep!

They bought off my nerves off with charming volunteers and great swag: an Ironman Florida tri backpack and license plate frame. OOHHHH...

Had a ART (active release therapy) treatment for my hamstring and shoulder. I have no pride. I am lying in full public view while the therapist gets his fingers into my hamstring which probably looks like he's doing something completely unprofessional, but in reality is only a hairsbreath away from exceedingly painful. I've had a lot of trouble with inflammation at the insertion point - this did not flare up during the race, so yay to my random ART helper and Dr.Giuseppe Giovatto who treated me during Clearwater training.

Picked up my BFF Lynn D'Asta at the Fort Walton Beach airport (allow 1.5 hours from PCB).

On Thursday, Barry volunteered all day at registration. It was a tight contest, but he is my favorite volunteer.

Lynn and I went to Mass for All Saint's day, then drove the bike route. The roads looked great, the bridge similar to Clearwater's, three or four rolling hills and the cracked road I'd heard about miles 50-60. I didn't think it looked that bad.

Ha ha ha, you foolish, foolish girl.

Back at the condo, Lynn and I methodically over-pack my transition bags.

I was careful to separate things into ziploc bag categories, so the "you-never-know"s didn't interfere with getting into the "necessaries". I was slightly embarrassed by the bulge of my swim-to-bike bag, but the T2 was nicely compact.

Thursday evening was the athlete dinner, featuring normal hotel buffet food and very crowded seating. It was almost impossible to move between the tables once others were seated.

The pep rally portion was inspirational. It was great to hear some Ironman stories, see a "Pump you up!" video. I was disappointed to learn only 35 athletes participated in Ironman Foundation - one can race for a cause, fundraising with the help of the Foundation. My cause was Cystic Fibrosis, the Boomer Esiason Foundation.

Athlete meeting next - snagged a sweet seat in the VIP section. For some reason, the presenters rushed through the material. What? What?!! For the first timer, it was a little crazy deciphering the details. As an obsessive reader/researcher, I had enough "experience" through race reports, two friend mentors, and books to piece it all together.

Late Thursday night, Barry drove back to the airport to pick up my eldest daughter, Amy. Other than super fan and sign designer, she also functioned as official team photographer, and is therefore not pictured in any of the images. Love you!

Friday awoke with a knot in my stomach. It wasn't that I had any specific fear thoughts; I seem to have conscious control of my anxiety. SUBCONSCIOUSLY, it appears to be a completely different story. I could not eat, so I put in what I could, but did not meet my pre-race meal plan.

Dropped off The Girl and transition bags. Took a morning swim in the ocean - saw two large, gorgeous pink jelly fish and did a "yikes!" full stop in the water. Good to get that shock out of the way - never saw one in Clearwater.

Best decision all day: Endurance Nation seminar. In my hunger for all information, these coaches provide a bonanza of gratis online materials I found extremely beneficial. Their seminar was motivating, amusing, and informational. In the end, the concepts of "staying in my box" and "you will have problems" were pivotal to my Ironman finish. Very grateful for their generosity.

Had a Skype interview with Amy's 4th graders. Best question: "Are you doing this for money, or for fun?" Best moment: Audible group gasp when I revealed I am a decrepit 51 years old!

Took an evening walk on the beach, but was feeling the tension. Did some yoga stretching and gentle rolling of the IT bands and quads, but nothing seemed to help.

Did not sleep - or perhaps dozed a little, but mostly was awake, fighting nausea I am sure was anxiety. Prayed, breathed, changed from the bed to the sofa - nothing helped. By 4 a.m. when I got up to eat, I couldn't manage any breakfast. I drank my FRS energy drink, but felt very sick.

Barry is my rock. He got up, was this oasis of calmness, reassuring me. We both figured once I started, the physical exercise would knock out the anxiety and my stomach would return to normal.

Yeah, sure.

Went to transition, dropped off my special needs bags. Pumped up the bike tires, filled the water bottle. The Girl was ready to roll.

Since the condo was so close, we returned so I could wiggle into my wetsuit in peace. Yank, Yank, tug, tug - Barry grabs and pulls - and I'm in. I grab another FRS and a GU and we head back to the start.

I'm still not fearful per se, but emotionally overwhelmed, and nauseous.

Nauseous.

Nauseous.

Barry and I take a moment to pray before I enter the corral.

The swim conditions were challenging. The safety boats were rolling in some decent swells. Chop danced across the water. The current was very strong from right to left, so I positioned myself two thirds of the way back around some women, and about two thirds towards the right barrier.

Pros start. National anthem. Sun rises. Cannon reports. Swimmers attack - 3000 charging the water, moving en masse along the buoys.

My mind was closed to everything except starting the swim. All shut down except moving forward and focusing on technique. I guess I was "in the box". I didn't have too much trouble with the crowded conditions - someone swam over me when I had to stop when the guy in front of me stopped - I swam next to another man for a long time, but the close quarters in pool practice (thank you Vision Quest coach, Marcia Cleveland for creating open water crowd conditions in our lanes!) prepared me for this and I liked turning my head and seeing him every other breath, keeping pace. The draft was outstanding - I stayed well within my abilities, no shortness of breath or chest tightness. I probably could have gone harder, but felt great, so stayed the course. The swells were big enough I could feel the swim UUUPPP and swim DDOOOWWNN. Later, I probably spoke with a dozen people who, with an odd pride, shared they vomited during the swim.

Thanks.

I did NOT need to know that.

Coolest moment - hitting the shallows approaching the turn around, I was swimming with a petite woman just to my left. Her pace was great so I focused on keeping up and drafting with her. As we exited the water, she ran to the chute, and I had to turn to begin again. The announcer said, "Miranda Carfrae exits the water!" OHHH! I was swimming (for two minutes) next to one of the best Ironman pros.

Second lap was tougher. I worked very hard fighting the current. Hooked up with a couple groups, but mostly was swimming alone and hard. Here the open water Clearwater swimming really paid off, especially the rougher surf days near the end. I was happy and positive when I ran through the swim finish.

Amy, Lynn, and Barry had spots immediately behind the volunteers. I was so into the race I did not understand the sign "Jesus walked this part!" I thought it meant walk to transition. Instead, it referred to the swim. Oh, I get it. He walked on water. Very funny, now!

Bless the volunteers - super fast wetsuit strippers. I wish I had a set of these every swim!

Long walk through the showers, around the bend, over to my transition bag, and into the changing building. I would guess I was at the back third of participants, so plenty of space and volunteers in changing area.

SUPER helpful - they emptied my bag, loaded up my wetsuit. Hard to completely get dry and I was paranoid about blisters, but I did my best. I had a gatorade and gu and I did manage to get the gu down, but could not tolerate much of gatorade. Loaded up my pockets (I was a pack camel, carrying all my nutrition, plus chamois cream, chapstick, biofreeze packets - in case my neck/back screamed), and out the door. Had to walk a ways to get to sunscreen volunteers - again, thank you! - and then bathroom break. On to the bikes, where ANOTHER wonderful volunteer had The Girl un-racked and waiting.

And off I went...

Had to play close attention first 10 miles - many potholes and such to avoid.

The bridge was no big deal, and I enjoyed the speedo clad young men who cheered us on.

The winds were not bad for the pros and fast age-groupers. However, for the long-cyclists like me, wind speeds picked up throughout the day, and sadly changed direction. I was mentally prepared for this from the forecast. So the start of my ride north, the wind was in my face. Turning West, my MPH popped up. I was in a great cadence, comfortable, but still fighting my stomach. I threw up twice, and since I'd never done this on the bike before, I discovered it is hard not to hit one's self or one's bicycle when this occurs.

When I reached the "oh, this is not so bad" bumpy road, I discovered that on a bicycle, it is bad. Very bad. My hoo-haw area was already unhappy, and the BUMP, BANG, BUMP BUMP was extraordinarily unpleasant. I tried aero, I tried upright; I couldn't get much speed, and was busy avoiding the bottles, gu's, tubes, and other flotsam from this road's havoc.

When I reached special needs (56 miles), I got my bag and went to re-stock my fuel. I realize I am massively behind nutrition - had only eaten four gu, two cookies. I was about 500 calories short. As I was exchanging items and refilling my front aero bottle, a female athlete asked me if I had chamois cream, "I'm in AGONY!"

I shared my packet, but as I did so, got out of rhythm, and must have dropped or set aside the rubber cap for my aero bottle. This is a large cap that one can turn a bottle upside down on and fill when riding. I took it off to put in some concentrated calorie gel and water.

I did not even realize it was missing until I started to ride. BUMP. SPLASH. BUMP SPLASH. Yikes. I pull over. I can't think straight. I decide to ride back to see if I can find it.

No deal.

Now I'm not thinking at all. I've lost 15 or more minutes. I feel I have to ride.

SO, RATHER THAN EMPTY THE BOTTLE PARTIALLY OUT...

I get back on the bike and endure four miles of...

BUMP. SPLASH. BUMP. SPLASH...until I'm laughing at myself and this ridiculousness.

That's when the Endurance nation info kicks in - I calm down and start thinking.

I am struggling with bonking due to poor nutrition. I am biking into the strongest wind direction and up and down the only course hills. I am covered in sticky sugar. It was sunny and fairly warm; I had trained in high 80 heat and humidity and don't think this is affecting me too much, but I am warm. I lost my biking pals and am fairly isolated, feeling like I might not make the 5:30 p.m. deadline.

I want to quit. I want to stop and lie down and sleep. I think "I can't go on."

I pray, and it helps me focus and problem solve.

I need to get more nutrition. No matter my nausea, I was going to down a gu every six miles.

I need water and not to be splashed - stop at each of last three aid stations, fill bottle half way and drink the rest.

I need to stop feeling defeated and focus on why I am racing. The thought of my waiting husband, daughter, and friend; my Mom; my kids at home, worried by their computers; my amazing friends tracking me; my brothers and their families, especially my niece Julia, a staunch supporter of me and my CF fundraising - at that small, terrible, alone moment in time, I find solace. They are all present - powerful in their thoughts and prayers, riding with me.

I ate, I prayed, and about mile 80 I felt better and my pace returned to normal. I pictured my usual ride, a 32.5 mile loop. I realized I had exactly that many miles to go, so I mentally pretended I was going point to point. I had done it a dozen times in training. All I had to do was complete the route one more time.

I start to pass a number of people, and distracted myself with chat, encouragement, and laughter. Thanks, Caroline, for a great conversation (yelled back and forth from the required seven bike lengths, although I don't think the refs were bothering with us at that point).

I cannot express fully the hoo-haw agony at this point. OW. OW. OW. Enough said.

The wind turned from the south, so all but one small pre-bridge stretch was into winds that had picked up.

Over the bridge, passed an athlete walking his bike up. "How you doing?" I yell.

"Great - what a view!" He waves toward the water.

Now that's a cup half full, I'd say!

Turning into town, had a tailwind. Nice rest and relief for last 10 miles.

Seven hours, 45 minutes after I began cycling, I hit the dismount line. I walked my bike to a volunteer. "Please burn this. I will never ride it again." We all laugh (I was half serious), and I toddled off to transition.

A motherly, caring volunteer took me under her wing. I had wet wipes, and she told me to get my face - dried snot and sugar. Great. I accidentally wiped my neck where I had a wetsuit burn. The volunteer BLEW ON MY NECK to soothe it and ran off for vaseline.

Are these the world's greatest people, or what?

Changed fairly quickly, ran out to mug for Team Baker (their love and encouragement energizes me - I LOVE YOU), used bathroom (from curiousity rather than need; I want to make sure I could still pee. Despite the pain, everything did indeed still function).

So, ten hours into my Ironman, I start the marathon. I try to run (my strongest leg)..no go. I'm still nauseous. I follow Endurance Nation advice.

I drink the coke.

By mile three, I can run a little. I decide to try a thirty count run (about a minute) and a thirty count walk.

I become obsessed with this.

I do not stop counting unless I am chatting with someone for a few minutes or stopping in the bathroom (TMI ALERT! I now had gas and was terrified of "sharting" (pooping while farting)).

And the counting works. I'm consistently between 12 - 13 minute miles, and considering the circumstances, I'm fine with that!

Darkness falls when I'm in the state park. The sunset has beautifully colored the sky, and I have a short moment of appreciation. My focus has narrowed to the step count and to reaching the turn with plenty of time for the second 13.1 mile loop.

At the run start, most walkers I passed were exhausted second loopers. Near the end, I found more on my round. To keep myself distracted, I tried to time my walking breaks to meet up with another athlete and converse for a few minutes. Most were enthusiastic, some...not so much. One prompts me to try to the chicken broth - I do, and it is WONDERFUL. I still push my gu's in, but the broth eliminates my stomach pain. I LOVE CHICKEN BROTH. I LOVE COCA COLA.

At the turn around, Barry finds me and runs alongside as we circle by the special needs bags. He is wonderful. Best husband in the world. Seriously. Amy and Lynn are around the corner, and they cheer me on. Barry tells me later they were impressed with how good I looked.

Had them fooled!

Second loop is a blur. Kept up my run/walk for 10 miles. Spoke with many athletes, passed about 200 total on the "run". Volunteers, spectators, tri coaches wonderful, encouraging, amazing.

After turn around in park, I know I will finish.

Three miles out I develop a serious side stitch, so gave up running and walked. I could hear the announcers calling out the finishers' names.

Just outside of the chute, an older man yelled for me to run. I still had a stitch...

But as I reach the chute...

I start to run...

I never felt the stitch again...

The spectators cheer, pound the rail, and hold out hands for high fives...

I start to cry...

"Ann Baker...

of Clearwater Florida...

YOU...

ARE...

AN...

IRONMAN!"

AMAZING.

My "catcher" guides me to the medal presenter.

It's a good thing there are catchers, because I am one big, empty, blank at this point.

He then very gently asks me my shirt size. HUH?

Luckily it is written on my bib.

Then I get a foil cape-wrap. I'm pretty hot, but appreciate the thought.
Catcher leaves me in line for my picture. I am behind an incredibly perky young woman, dancing and wearing a tutu.

Inside, I am dancing and wearing a tutu.

Outside, I am dazed and confused.

I can't eat, so we head for home. Barry and Lynn escort me, while Amy documents the occasion.

Team Baker is outstanding. Lynn forcefully gets me a place in the condo elevator. Once in the condo, it is into the ice bath.

Yikes.

Lynn helps me stay in, and Amy distracts me by showing me the video of my finish. Kayla (daughter) recorded finishers for an hour before I crossed the line so she wouldn't miss it. Kayla calls, in tears. Christopher (son) calls.

Lynn and Barry get me out of my clothes and into the shower.

I DO stink.

Lynn brushes my hair while I get the teeth.

Under the covers - and more covers - and more covers - the chills have set in - Lynn brings me crackers and a banana. My team listens to my ramblings but starts to yawn; I look at the clock and it's nearly midnight. Off to bed, dedicated Team Baker.

For the second night, I cannot sleep, but now I am at peace.

I am an Ironman. I am grateful to my family and friends, most especially my loving husband who trained alongside me for much of the journey and supported me throughout. Lynn and Amy - you made the day for me! Kayla and Christopher - knowing you were watching me, praying for me, kept me going. Amy was posting to facebook all day, and so many people I love tuned into Ironman live to see the finish. I was astounded by the support and long-distance participation. I was never alone. Thank you volunteers for your astonishing investment of time and emotion.

I am an Ironman!

-

Tale of Two Beaches

8:30 a.m. Arrive at the beach, set up a location just above high tide line. Today are the super boat races. First, however, is the Ann race. The water is calm - Barry and I swim 1.3 miles.

9:20 return to our mat for a Gu and some water. A couple is camped out next to us - Barbie and Ken - yes, for real. They are very nice. The water is now VERY choppy and wavy as a massive number of boats has lined up on the opposite side of the race "track"

10:20 I swim .6 against the current - tough but rewarding psychologically. I can do it! Barry and I walk back.

10:30 Man passing out water, with attached paper talking about the "water of Life" Jesus Christ. Wow, great, low key evangelization. Barry notices two chairs set up behind our mat, one man in one chair. We leave, but then Barry decides to go back to tell the guy that when we return we will have chairs and an umbrella. There is still TONS of open space next to us on the main set up line. Man says "ok".

11:15 We return to beach and set up umbrella and chairs.

11:18 OTHER chair man arrives and starts to scream at Barry. "You F...F...in F...A....F... set up in front of us....F put it down...you f... you have to be 60 years old, don't you F...in know better...(Low blow...worse than the F's)" Boasting a significant beer gut, this large, tan man is massively inebriated; his friend, to whom Barry spoke, sits silently in the chair.

11:20 Barry replies using logic. Never a good move. "We've been here since 8:30 and I told your friend we would be putting up an umbrella." Barry offers to help them move their two folding chairs and small cooler to the wide open spot on the front chair line next to us. This offer is not well received.

11:21 After stating HE had been on the beach since 7:30 a.m., he threatens to kick Barry's F-in A. Barbie speaks up. "They were before we were and we got here at 9:15." He denies this possibility and states he is willing to go to jail in order to experience the gratification of hitting Barry. I am very nervous. If he attacks Barry, they will both go to jail. I do not particularly want to bail Barry out of jail. I have never bailed anyone out of jail. I don't suppose it is terribly complicated, but I do not particularly want to find out. I shake my head at Barry and urge him not to speak anymore at all. Barry trusts my instincts as I have 12 years psychiatric nursing experience. This is definitely an out-of-hospital psych type encounter. I whisper that we should simply move; this option does not appeal to Barry (man response).

11:23 I am going to skip over a lot of repetitive dialogue which mainly consisted of using the f word as an adjective, noun, verb and adverb. Man repeats urge to beat Barry up and go to jail. He then says he is calling his friends the cops who will come down and show Barry "what was F-in what."

11:27 Crazy big drunk guy calls "police". His Police cannot come for 45 minutes. Tells His Police he is being "f'd with by some guy". Gets off phone and tells us we will get ours in 45 minutes. I am not terribly worried about police. Umbrella beach law is very ambiguous.

11:30 He quietly asks his friend why friend told us we could put up the umbrella. Friend has a lame response "I didn't know it would be big (as in beach umbrella size)." He sits down and begin to make 'clever' remarks about the situation - mostly involving the f-word.

11:45 He joins friends in the water to watch the first race.

12 noon First race begins with slightly smaller speed race boats.

12:15 His Police never show.

1 p.m. Returns to shore. Chairs remain but no one sits in them.

2 p.m. Big super sleek boat race starts. We watch for 15 minutes, but our day is soured, and we pack up and go home.

3 p.m. Write blog. Barry is amused. I am...discouraged? Disturbed? Sad? Wondering if we should have moved. I am thinking about the kindness and faith of the water evangelizer contrasted with the desperate anger of chair man. Were we right or stubborn...or both? Hmmm...interesting to have two such disparate experiences within an hour - the tale of two beaches.

Life's a beach!

Over a month ago, I left off talking about the choice: group or solo training.

Today I reaped the benefits of group.

When I joined Vision Quest coaching, one of the available activities was a coached swim practice.

I had been swimming on my own, attempting to learn Total Immersion swimming from the book, Total Immersion: The Revolutionary Way To Swim Better, Faster, and Easier.

I thought I was doing...swimmingly...well.

ehhh...no.

The coach, Marcia Cleveland, was fantastic. I was quickly overwhelmed by the practice pace...

WAIT - maybe I should mention here that I had at least 7-10 years of swimming lessons as a kid. The YMCA was a reasonable investment for my limited-income family. So I do cope with water without fear.

...and Marcia carefully, week by week, corrected my stroke, starting with "you are all crunched up."

No, I was sleek as a dolphin, stretching and reaching...crunched up? Really?

Yes, really. Turns out what was in my head was not translating to the reality of my body.

So I stretched out...and she said "nope, not yet!" and stretched, and stretched...and then got to work on not crossing my arms over the center line.

REALLY - I'm shooting them straight ahead!

Ah, No.

And so on...and today, in the Clearwater gulf waters, I reaped the reward of all of Marcia's work. I swam two miles, in relative comfort, understanding my body position and working FAR less hard than I did in the past.

If you are thinking triathlon, unless you were a swim team swimmer, swimming lessons are probably an essential.

Open water swimming in water similar to your triathlon is essential as well. I say similar water because swimming in Lake James, where my brother has a cottage, is harder than the pool; and the ocean, although not choppy this morning, is harder than Lake James.

Swimming in the gulf:

1. Is noisier. It's weird, but I put my head in and there is all sorts of noise, distracting and overwhelming my technique focus.
2. Is salty (duh). BUT this is something to get used to - it burns the back of my throat and does not taste so good. My stomach is more upset after a gulf than lake swim (I can't swim without swallowing some water, can you?)
3. Is fishier. Smells fishier, feels fishier, and appears fishier (see more fish!). I touched a few - eep!

Today there were quite a few gulf swimmmers using the long "lane" formed by the protected swimming area posts. It's just over a half mile long - perfect for my Ironman training. I decided to go for it, and swam my farthest - two miles - ish (hard to tell exactly).

I felt great - sleek and fast like a dolphin - and this time, I don't think I'm too far off!

Thanks to all who have contributed to my Ironman Foundation effort for Cystic Fibrosis, in particular the Boomer Esiason Foundation. I am incredibly grateful!