Hannah Nielsen » Documentary Family Photographer Seattle Portland and Worldwide

I’ve had this post ready for awhile now, but in light of the events in Boston, I wanted to give a little bit of breathing room before talking about my race. I am blessed to be part of a group of people who are so positive, supportive, and motivated. Endurance athletes amaze me every day and I can’t tell you how much my heart hurt and also soared, watching the bombings in Boston unfold. Yes, soar. The human spirit amazes me and seeing people running in to help was incredible. I have so much respect for everyone who was a witness to those horrific events.

With that said, I feel like I can tell you about my own race now. If you haven’t already read the build up to the race on race morning, start there. This is that story continued…

PINI’m breathing steadily, and I’ve found my rhythm. Occasionally I get kicked or elbowed, someone swims right in front of me, or a wave crashes over my face when I’m trying to take a breath, but somehow it isn’t bothering me. I’m in the zone. I later find out that the choppy conditions in the water are the worst they’ve been in years, but considering that I have nothing to compare it to, I don’t mind. Knowing that the “angels” are out there in the water on their paddle boards looking out for us doesn’t hurt either.

The swim is long and, although I’m surrounded by people, solitary. I have time to think. To process what is happening. A few times I think I might get teary, but then I’m afraid my goggles will fog up. I think about my friends who I know are in different places in the water, swimming their own races. Doing this. I think about Kyle and wonder if he’s out of the water yet, heading towards his bike. I think about my friend, Kris, a nervous swimmer, and I just know she’s going to do it. I look for turtles in the murky water. I don’t see any, but the hunt is fun. We’ve been told about how great the swim is — the fish, turtles, sea life. Not this year. It’s murky grey with occasional glimpses of pink or white coral. I see one fish and get so excited I almost take in a big mouthful of water.

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Before I know it my hands are touching sand. I stand up and take the first difficult steps out of the water. Then I hear my name and I see one of my mentors, Jerilee, screaming “GO HANNAH!!!” from the side of the path to the bikes. It instantly puts a smile on my face.  I see Coach Cathy and her husband Mike, and then even more “support crew”. They’re screaming and high-fiving and I’m grinning and running towards the transition area.

When the path turns from sand to pavement with little lava rocks all over it I slow down a bit, not wanting to hurt myself before I’ve even started on what are, for me, the harder parts of the race.

Besides the jog to my bike, I make a quick transition. My only mistake being almost falling over when I try to balance to put my sock on my wet foot. Otherwise I manage to stay mostly upright and in no time I’m walking my bike out of the transition area and hopping on. The wind feels good and cools me off even though I have no idea how I got warm already considering that I’m soaking wet.

I ride out through the resort and on the the Queen K Highway (along part of the Ironman course). It is still overcast and the ride is actually pretty pleasant, despite the view being only lava rock in both directions as far as your eyes can see. This highway can get extremely windy, but today we’re lucky and the conditions are great. The first half of the ride feels slow and I can’t quite find my groove. I pass a few people here and there, but I keep forgetting it’s race day and I slow down when I should be speeding up, I take my time drinking my water and eating my Honey Stingers.

One of the fun things about this being a Team in Training event, is that there are 440 other people out there in purple jerseys doing this race for an amazing cause. And every time someone in a purple jersey passes me, or I them, there is a great exchange of “GO TEAM!” that gives me a little boost of momentum every single time.

At the halfway point there is a steep downhill, a quick ride through a tunnel and a sharp turn to a steep uphill. I’m carrying enough speed to make it up the uphill, but the guy in front of me is getting slower and slower as we head up the hill. I don’t have room to go around him. He makes it to the top and just when I think I’m in the clear, he stops! I come centimeters from hitting him and the people behind me yell the same, “woah!” that I do, as surprised as I am. Disaster avoided, I finally catch my groove on the bike. I’m enjoying the ride — trying to pass people on the uphills and trying not to break on the downhills (I’m still pretty nervous with downhill riding). The second half of the bike is much better than the first and I have a great time. About halfway back, I hear a bike coming up behind me and a “Go–hey wait! That’s HANNAH! Wooooo!!! Go Hannah!!!” It is my mentor, Joyce, and I’m thrilled to see her. She gets ahead of me pretty quickly and I think I’d like to catch her on the run.

As I’m getting closer to the transition area, the clouds are getting darker and I think it might rain. I think that wouldn’t bother me too much. I’ve been dreading this run for months. Coach Cathy made fun of me at practices at home for stripping off all of my layers after the warm up…even when it was only 40 degrees outside. The Hawaii temperature has been a concern for me since my first day of training. I feel two or three rain drops, and then the clouds drift away. Oh well. About a half a mile from transition a guy is yelling for the girl in front of me, words of encouragement, and I think that he knows her. Then he yells to me, “Catch her! It’s all downhill from here! She’s right in front of you! GOOOO!” I listen to his words as if he were my coach and start pedaling like mad. I catch her a few yards from the “dismount” sign. What a great way to end the bike!

I rack my bike, take off my helmet, put on my hat and spray one more layer of sunscreen. As I mentioned, I’ve been dreading the run since before I even signed up for the race. I’m not a strong runner and I don’t do well in the heat. Luckily, today it is overcast and 78 degrees. Considering we trained in 27-45 degree weather at home, this is plenty warm enough, but not the deathly upper-80s I was expecting.

PINI start the run slowly with the plan of walking through the water stations and running the rest. My legs feel pretty good and not overly tired from the bike. I take a look at my watch and realize that while my legs might be okay, my brain is tired. I can’t figure out how long I’ve been racing. That would require adding my swim time and my bike time. I’ll figure it out later.

And then I’m running. The course takes me across a lava field, through some of the Waikaloa Village, through the Hilton, onto a crazy rocky path, onto the beach, and over the finish line. The lava field goes fine. I run the first mile without the usual drag my legs feel during the first mile of a post-bike run.  I can see the first water stop and I’m amazed at how quickly this mile has gone. Unfortunately that feeling doesn’t continue. I slow to a crawl, feet shuffling slowly. It’s getting hotter (although still not as hot as I expected) and I’m putting ice in my hat and sports bra at every water stop. I’m also pouring at least one cup of water on my head (thankfully I never got the water and Gatorade mixed up!) and drinking another.

I see a few people I know coming back the other direction after making their turnaround and I muster up the energy for a “Go Team!” or just  a “woot!!” My energy is fading and I can feel the effects of burning so many calories without eating a whole lot. I am thrilled when I see a teammate who couldn’t race at one of the water stops. Her giant grin and handful of water cups makes me so happy I could cry. At the turnaround point, I see two more cheerleaders for our team and can hardly lift my arms to high five them. Still, seeing them boosts my spirits.

At this point I’ve made it through Waikaloa Village and I’m heading through the resort. I can hear the kids splashing in the swimming pools and I see people walking around with pina coladas. My jealousy is all consuming. I WANT to get in that pool and I NEED that pina colada! I consider running a few steps out of my way and asking some kids to splash me, but those few extra steps might be the few steps I don’t make it over the finish line. Surprisingly, despite the heat, exhaustion, hunger, and need for a pina colada, my spirits are relatively high. I make a sharp turn down a little switchback and see Joyce below me. “JOYCE!! Wooooo!”  (A lot of “woo”ing goes on all race day.) She looks as tired as I feel, and I’m determined to catch her. About 5 minutes later I’m coming up behind her. We’re on a rocky part of the path and we slow to a walk over certain parts to avoid the possibility of a twisted ankle less than a mile before the finish. We chat a little bit and I keep thinking how cool it is to be crossing this last mile with someone who has been there for me the entire season. We’ve nicknamed Joyce “Momentor” because she’s as much like a mom as a mentor — always checking in, making sure we’re okay, supportive and fun…We love her. I’m happy to be avoiding twisted ankles with her.

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We turn a final corner and the finish line is in sight. I can hear the music and people yelling. It’s still a quarter of a mile across the sand, but I get a burst of energy. I pick up my pace and see the finish getting closer and closer. Coach Cathy and Mike are up ahead, yelling and taking pictures. I’m grinning. I’ve almost accomplished something I thought I never could. A bucket list item. I get closer and see other Team in Training members, then other members of my chapter. They’re yelling my name. I see Kyle and I’m so happy I could cry. There’s a lady running right next to me and I’m thinking, “I’d like my own finish line photo, thank you.” So I go faster. She does too. So I sprint. She does too. I pull ahead of her just as I’m crossing the finish line. The finish line. I’ve finished. I’m stunned. I look at my time. Three minutes under my goal. I’m amazed.

I’m a little bit lightheaded and my brain is definitely not working properly. Someone puts a medal on me and someone else hands me the most beautiful water bottle I’ve ever seen (if only because all I really want in this moment is a water bottle). Thankfully, Kyle finds me. I don’t think I could’ve spotted him in the sea of purple with such a hazy brain. I find a spot along the railing to watch for the rest of my friends to finish. All I can think about is the moment that I finished my half marathon and I ate an orange, the juice dripping down my arm. I really REALLY want an orange. Kyle asks me if I got a snack. He says there are cookies…and oranges!! I convince him to go get me one. He refills my water bottle too.

After about 20 minutes I’m feeling back to normal enough to ask Kyle how is race went. He did amazingly well, coming in almost 15 minutes ahead of his goal time. I’m proud of him. And of myself. And of all of my friends. This is one of the only seasons Coach Cathy has everyone on her team finish the race. And collectively we’ve raised over $150,000 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Everything about this event has been amazing. I can’t believe how far I have come…from flailing in the kiddie pool and not knowing how to change gears on my bike to finishing this race with a giant smile on my face.

GO TEAM!!!!

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