As they say, sometimes the best place to begin is at the
beginning. Last May, Nicole, Melissa, and I volunteered at the finish line of
Ironman Texas. We had the honor and the privilege of bringing across six of our
best friends. We knew long before then that Ironman was in the cards for us.
Being a part of our friends’ finish only solidified our desire to have the same
experience for ourselves. The next morning, we went to Ironman village and put
our names in the hat. The journey truly began.
The next 11 months would be spent swimming, biking, and running. We grew so much across the course of the last year. Not only physically, but spiritually, mentally, and our friendship deepened in a way that I did not know was possible. We have shared laughter, tears, joy, doubt, and everything in between. It wasn't long before the Iron8 took shape. The eight of us would share such incredible experiences on our journey to the Ironman finish line. If you had told me then that I could love these people the way that I love them now, I could not have imagined how.
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I woke up Thursday morning dry heaving in cold sweats. This
was NOT the way I intended for my Ironman weekend to begin. I canceled my spin
class, went back to bed, and begged God to let me get to race day. At this
point, I wasn’t even asking for a good race. I just wanted to make it to the
starting line. This seed of doubt in the back of my mind had the potential to wreck
everything. The 20 weeks of intense training (not to mention the 3-year base I
had been building) threatened to unravel mere moments from the beginning of the
end of my journey. Through the grace of God, I woke up a few hours later and
felt “normal.”
Melissa, Nicole, and I packed the van and headed north to
the Woodlands. After getting through athlete check-in, lunch, and relaxing in
the hotel for a few, we headed to the athlete briefing. We learned all about
the penalty tent, the course, aid stations, and everything else you need to
know to tackle the day. Unfortunately, my phone rang part way through. It was
the school nurse, telling me that Lia had fallen in music class and I needed to
come pick her up. Whomp whomp whomp. I called my parents to step in for me and
they gladly retrieved my kids from school. After several hours of icing,
elevating, and ice cream, they decided she needed to be x-rayed. I have no idea
what that set us back, but it turned out to be a sprain.
Later that evening, we headed to the welcome banquet. Wow.
What an experience! It was at this point that I made a complete fool out of
myself in front of Mike Reilly, THE voice of Ironman. We were standing in the
lobby and almost walked into him. Without thinking, I shouted, “HEY!” He
laughed and said, “My name’s not HEY.” I said, “I KNOW! YOU’RE MIKE REILLY!” At
this point, I am pretty positive that Nicole and Melissa wanted to crawl into a
hole and die. We exchanged a few words with Mike, and I decided to step in for
our buddy, Nick Skytland. I told Mike that he had called Nick home several
times and that he was saying his name wrong. I told him Nick would think I was
a hero if Mike said his name right for his lucky #7. We talked a little more,
said goodbye, and told Mike we would see him at the finish line. After a couple
of hours of food, fellowship, and inspiration, the three of us headed out to a
friend of a friend’s house for steaks and sweet potatoes.
We had a great time
talking with fellow athletes and learning a little bit of game day strategy
from a couple of the coaches who were there. An hour or so more of food,
fellowship, and prayer, we headed back to the hotel for some sleep.
Friday morning started off with another embarrassing moment.
The three of us piled into a very full, very quiet elevator to head down to
breakfast. I guess my nerves got the best of my mouth and I said (pretty
loudly), “Why is it so quiet in here? Did somebody fart?” Melissa kindly
pointed out to me that there was a guy in the corner… on. the. phone. We all
died. I swear the person on the other end heard me. Everyone in that elevator
had to work not to burst into laughter. After breakfast, we went to the
practice swim. Sadly, we ran into one of the guys from the elevator who recognized
me. You can’t outrun your own embarrassment!
The practice swim was uneventful. There was LOTS of talk of
wetsuit versus no wetsuit. The water temperature had risen from 74.5 to 78 in
just 2 days. I had decided days ago that unless it was 83 degrees, I was
wearing my wetsuit. I suited up, hopped in the water, and swam a cool 700
yards. I felt good and decided that my original plan was a good one.
After we left the lake, Nick took us on a bike ride to give
us a preview of the run course. We wove our way around the Woodlands and made
mental notes of twists, turns, dips, and aid stations. After our tour, we
checked our bikes and bags into transition and decided to catch a movie. Going
to see The Case for Christ the day before Ironman may have been genius or
idiocy. I tend to lean toward genius, but what do I know? It was a great way to
put life into perspective and it gave us all a legitimate reason to cry a
little bit (not that 140.6 miles isn’t a good reason to cry). That night, we
met up with spouses, parents, and kids and enjoyed another steak and sweet
potato dinner at Saltgrass. We had had a great two days and the real fun was
just about to begin.
Doug and I went back to the hotel for a quiet, thoughtful
evening and some last-minute review. I went over my packing lists one more
time, visualized my transitions, and spent some time in prayer. By 9:00, I was
crawling into bed and trying to get some sleep. Sleep came and went in waves. I
would drift off and then snap to, thinking about the swim start or the bike
turnaround or about my nutrition. As prepared as I felt, there was still so
much doubt. So much fear. My nerves never really did show their ugly faces, but
my God. I don’t care who you are, 140 miles under your own power is a monumental
task. It’s just SUCH a long day and SUCH a long race and SO MANY THINGS can go
wrong. I tried not to think about it too much and I would guess I managed about
4–5 hours of sleep. Fortunately, my coach had me focus on trying to take 6 naps
that week (I think I managed 4), so I had banked quite a bit of sleep.
At 4:30, the alarm went off and the day began. I got
dressed, ate my breakfast, and we headed down to the lobby to meet up with
Melissa, Nicole, and our Sherpas. Davin left us off at the entrance to
transition and we made our way to our bikes. I saw Audrey and Susan and John. I
saw lots of stoic, nervous people and lots of anxious spouses, parents, and
friends. I found my bike, aired up my tires, and realized I had forgotten my
aero bottle. Blessedly, one of my amazing friends was at the transition
entrance and she ran to retrieve my bottle from the van. After filling up
tires, filling up bottles, and dropping last-minute items, it was time to walk
to the swim start.
I was so grateful for Doug’s calm presence during this walk.
He walked next to me, not saying much, just being my anchor and a cool head
when my anxiety could have gotten the best of me. He carried my bag and
listened to Heather and I chat about the upcoming day. Once we arrived at the
swim start, we had about 10 minutes until the pros went off. We were standing
in line for the portapotties (again) when the cannon boomed and their day
began. The 5 of us who were together circled up for one last prayer. We bowed our heads and Nick lead us in a prayer of gratitude, of humility, and of perseverance. It was here that I almost lost my mind. Being able to stand at the water's edge - at the precipice of something that's so big and so scary and so daunting that you literally cannot fathom the enormity of it until you're doing it - and to join in prayer with true friends is a gift that I will cherish forever. To know that you're doing something that many consider to be impossible with the blessing of your Savior, the support of your loved ones, and the camaraderie of your peers is just an indescribable feeling.
I got one last kiss from Doug and off we went. I entered the water at 6:52 flanked by Nicole and Nick with Joe just ahead. I knew that was likely the last time we would see each other until the finish, and that was ok. I dove in head first and started swimming along with 2600 of my closest friends. I had heard horror stories of the swim start and I was prepared for the worst. Fortunately, I never got kicked, scratched, punched, or pulled. Before I knew it, I was coming up on the first buoy marked with a nice little "1." In my preparation for the day, I had divided the course into chunks, even beyond swim/bike/run. I knew that the swim could be taken in thirds and I was prepared for 13 buoys before the first turn. Imagine my delight and my surprise when I hit the first turn buoy after just 8 buoys! I had checked off the first chunk of the first chunk and I felt great! Somewhere along the way, I passed my coach (WHAT???) and said hi. That was a cool feeling.
After the turnaround, the second chunk seemed much quicker and long before I expected it, we were turning into the canal. This is where things got interesting. The water quality took a plunge and what had been 12-18-inch visibility was suddenly 4-6-inch visibility. Not only that, but the water smelled and tasted like stagnant mud. I started to feel a little queasy and I wasn't sure if it was from the smell or from the churning water in the canal. Because I was feeling a little off, I was taking quick breaks about every 100 yards by doing one-armed drills and pulling my wet suit open to allow the cooler water in. I don't know if it really helped or not, but it sure seemed to. I saw my coach pass me again and realized I was coming up on the Grogan's Mill Bridge, the last landmark before the exit. Aside from the disgusting water, the swim was really uneventful, quick, and a nice little warm-up before the bike. My time and distance on the swim was 2.64 miles and 1:31:00. My goal was between 1:30-1:40, so I was very, very pleased coming out of the water.
As I headed into the changing tent, I sat down in the first chair I came to. I started digging through my bag looking for individual items. After about 30 seconds of that, I decided that was crazy. I said, "Screw it!" and dumped the bag on the ground. About that time a teenage girl said, "Does anyone need help?" I said, "I do! And there's a Starbucks gift card over here for you!" She came running and helped me in a way that was so selfless and kind. She unfolded my socks, got out my sunscreen, helped me with my wetsuit, and did everything but dress me. At that point, I saw Nicole and Audrey come in through the door. I was so grateful to see friends hot on my trail! I was in and out of transition in just under 10 minutes. I had planned for 10 minutes for each transition, so I was right on schedule at this point and feeling great about it.
As I ran out of the tent, I saw Doug ! He was hanging over the fence near my bike cheering me all the way. I think I said something like, "hey baby!" I grabbed my bike and motored over to the mount line. I was so grateful to be on with the second leg of my journey! It was still a beautiful day. We had some cloud cover and a slight breeze. It was shaping up to be a great morning.
As I wove my way through the Woodlands, I focused on finding my legs and thinking about getting to the Hardy Toll Road. This was the first chunk of the second chunk. As I neared the turnaround, Melissa shouted out at me and I had a surge of adrenaline. I was so grateful to see how strong she looked. It gave me motivation to keep spinning my legs and looking for the next checkpoint.
Somewhere around the turn off, I heard sirens. I had no idea what was going on, but I knew it couldn't be good. There were firetrucks, ambulances, and I could hear life flight on the way. I prayed it was not serious and continued on my way. I would later learn that a man had died during the swim. I have been just consumed with this over the last few days, but I learned yesterday that he was a great man who loved Jesus and I am confident that he died doing what he loved and has reached his own finish line in Heaven.
I thanked every police officer and volunteer I passed. It gave me something to think about that wasn't myself. As I neared the Hardy Toll Road, I was ever so grateful I had spoken to everyone along the way. Once we reached Hardy, other humans who were not on bicycles were few and far between. At this point of the race, the wind was very shifty. I couldn't tell what it was doing or where it was coming from, but I knew it was doing something that I didn't like. I fought my way south for the first 20 miles half expecting a tailwind on the way back. Imagine my dismay when I made the U-turn and there was no such tailwind. "That's OK," I thought. "You've trained in the wind. 20 miles will end soon enough." I put my head down and concentrated on getting up each and every overpass. Me and Jesus had a lot to talk about on that 20-mile stretch of road. I was mentally prepared for the overpasses, but I was not prepared to climb over passes into a 15MPH headwind. On many occasions, I ran out of gears. I just focused on counting. I would get out of the saddle for eight counts and then sit down for eight counts. Once I finally reached the top of each overpass, I would sit down and cruise for a little while. I tried really hard not to think about the second loop. I tried to be grateful for the cloud cover. I told God that we had discussed this wind. My children, husband, and I had been praying relentlessly for no wind for months. This was not part of the plan, but God knows better than I do. I tried to make peace with it and focused on each pedal stroke. I prayed for myself. I prayed for others. I prayed for the wind to stop, although I knew it was in vain.
By the time I reached the turnaround, it was like a party. That tailwind hit me and I knew I had to make up for lost time. Bruce, my bike, effortlessly carried me the next 20 miles. I don't think I ever got out of my big ring, even on the mountainous overpass that was 1960. I knew heading down that overpass with such a stiff tailwind it was going to be interesting. I began chanting out loud, "the glory of the Lord will be my rear guard." I said it all the way up the overpass and all the way down. I didn't know this until yesterday, but my highest speed on that overpass was 32 miles an hour. It was terrifying. I didn't know if anyone was behind me and I was afraid to touch my brakes. As I repeated my scripture the last time, my voice came out in a sob and I nearly choked. The fear was palpable, but I had made it to the bottom and it was time to focus on the next overpass. I got my emotions in check and continued to turn my legs over, one pedal stroke at a time. I kept an eye out for familiar faces on the other side of the course. I saw Melissa and several Tri4Him guys. I called out to each of them as they passed. I also tried to encourage the others who were on their first loop that the tailwind was coming. "Hang in there! Don't give up! The tailwind is coming!"
Once I reached the final turn around, my race was entirely between my ears. I tried to focus on what John had said about the last 10k of the run. I knew that if I blew my legs up now, I would never make it through a marathon. Nicole passed me just after the turn around. We exchanged a few words, and she was gone. Again, I drew confidence and motivation from seeing her on the course. Knowing she was out there killing it helped me focus on my own race. I remember at mile 80 saying out loud, "I never have to do this again. No one can ever make me do this again." There was no way in the world I was ever giving up, but I knew once I finished, it would be over and I would never have to do this again. Period. If I didn't want to.
The next 20 miles was spent much the same as the first time around. Lots of prayer. Lots of pleading. Lots of spinning my legs and trying not to give up. I ran out of gears on almost every overpass. I saw people giving up left and right. Near the end of that final loop, I saw a lady walking her bike. I asked her if she was OK and she shook her head no. Fortunately, I saw SAG about 100 yards down the road. I called out to him and told him that the lady behind me needed his help. Not long after that, a bigger guy on a Cervelo came up next to me. We chatted for a while. He told me that he felt like Fuji and Cervelo owed us money for the wind tunnel test we were conducting for their bikes. We both laughed and discussed why in the world we ever wanted to do this crazy thing called Ironman. We soon parted ways and continued struggling into the wind. Did I mention the wind was 15 miles an hour? Sustained? With up to 30 mile an hour gusts? K. Just making sure I mentioned that.
Again, once I hit that final turn around, it was a party. I knew I was home free. I had 12 miles left until I could get off of my bike and put on my running shoes. I wound on my way through the Woodlands, again, and focused on getting to that dismount line. My thoughts had gotten a little dark at this point. I was thinking to myself that I had never wanted to do anything less in my entire life than I wanted to run a marathon. I just wanted to sit down. I knew that 26.2 miles lay ahead of me and I was not looking forward to them.
As I got closer to town, there were people all over the place. I again thanked every police officer and every volunteer, grateful to be able to speak to another human again. There were people, dogs, kids, cowbells, signs, and everything in between. I felt like I was at a race again! I said to myself, "Sheri? You better get yourself together. If you continue to have an attitude like this, you will never finish this race. You better be grateful. You better find something to be grateful for." I had a 180° turn in my thoughts. I started to look forward to getting off of my bike. I was looking forward to putting my running shoes on. I was looking forward to seeing friends and family cheering me on. I was looking forward to the waterway. The final leg of the second chunk was upon me. My official bike time was nearly an hour longer than I had hoped at 7:27:15.
Somewhere close to transition, I saw Heather again. She shouted out to me and again, I found myself full of gratitude for a friendly face and a cheerful smile. One of the volunteers told me that transition was half a mile ahead. I had never been so grateful in my life! As I dismounted, I heard someone shouting my name. I looked up and lo and behold, I saw my old boss. I had no idea she would be there and seeing her face and hearing her cheer me on gave me such a boost. I ran out of my way to give her a hug over the fence. At this point, I saw Davin, Bobby, and Bryan. They were cheering me on and told me Nicole was just ahead of me in transition. About two seconds after that, I saw Tiff, Karissa, Julie, and Liane. They were waiting for me in transition! They were encouraging me, making me laugh, and running alongside me into the change tent. I had no idea that a welcome wagon would be waiting for me when I got off my bike. What a welcome surprise!
As I walked into the changing tent, I saw a Swim Bike Mom compatriot. Amie Quin was a tri angel sent straight from above. She went through my bag one item at a time in and helped me prepare for the next 26 miles. She slathered sunscreen on my shoulders and filled my water bottle with ice. She spoke some encouraging words to me and sent me on my way. As I came out of the change tent, I looked down at my watch. Another 10 minute transition.
I saw an old friend from high school cheering me on. I remember saying something about not dying and headed out for the next 26 miles. The run course is absolutely phenomenal. There are spectators everywhere along the Waterway. Tri clubs know where the dark parts of the course are in they are there to help you through them. Shortly after mile one, I saw Nova, the chiropractor from the fitness center. She ran alongside me for about half a mile and assured me that I was going to be an Ironman. Her enthusiasm and the big smile on her face gave me a pep in my step and helped me through the next several miles. Then I saw Randi and Adam and Randi ran with me for a good .25 miles. She gave me the same encouragement Nova did and sent me on my way.
After I turned left on Panther Creek, the crowds disappeared. There was no music. There were no signs. There were no cowbells. Just a shady path, the smell of honeysuckle, and my own thoughts. I tried to find someone running my pace to keep me company, but they were few and far between. As I drew closer to the Waterway, I started getting excited about seeing my family. Surely they were just ahead. Before long, I was in Hippie Hollow. I could have never imagined what sort of lift that would give my spirits. You don't know what it's like to run being chased by a man dressed in a red speedo and suspenders beating a trashcan with drumsticks until you've done it. If it sounds totally insane, it is! There were signs everywhere saying there's no walking in hippie Hollow. No kidding! You couldn't walk even if you wanted to. The crowds and their enthusiasm is infectious. There is loud music, Crazy signs, and even crazier costumes. My pace picked up significantly, especially as I thought about seeing my family in the next mile or two.
I saw Heather again and asked her, "Where is my family???" I thought I would definitely have seen them by now! She told me she didn't know, but she would find out. As I rounded the bend and passed my old office, my cousin and her sweet girls were up on the hillside. I was so excited to see my family! I flashed them an I love you, asked, "Where on earth are my parents???" and continued on my way. They didn't know either as they had just arrived. I snaked along the waterway and once again, I found my thoughts turning dark. I had run almost 8 miles now and there was no sign of my family. I began to wonder if I could run another 8 miles without their hugs and encouragement. I was just starting to get really discouraged when I heard my name from up on a bridge. There they were! My parents, my cousins, my neighbors - waving their arms and screaming like maniacs. I had never been so happy to see them in my entire life! Because they were backlit, I had no idea that Doug and the kids weren't with them. I could hear my mommy and my daddy above all the other noise. I guess all of those years at the softball field came back to me and I could hear my parents shouting their love and encouragement from the rooftops. About 10 yards farther down the waterway, there were my babies! I got sweet kisses from Lia, a huge hug from Daniel, and an atta girl and a kiss from Doug. My mother-in-law was there too, smiling and encouraging me every step of the way. That was exactly what I needed, exactly when I needed it. As I began the second loop, I knew what to expect. I had been here and done this. One down, two to go.
Around mile 13 or 14, I started falling apart. My GI system had had enough. I was on the bridge near South Shore Park and started gagging. I wasn't sure what to do. On one hand, I felt like if I could just be sick and get it over with, I would feel better. On the other hand, I was afraid that once I started, I wouldn't be able to stop. I slowed to a walk and kept my eye on my heart rate. I was sipping water and jogging about half a mile at a time. As I approached the Waterway for the second time, I ran into a teammate, Ross. He's been training with my coach for a long time. I figured if I couldn't talk to John, Ross was a close second. I told him about my GI issues and asked him what he would do. He suggested that I stop taking in anything at the aid stations and focus on sipping water. Thankfully, that worked! Around mile 15 or 16, my gut settled down and I was able to run some more.
Again, as I flew through Hippie Hollow, I started to get excited about seeing my family again. Before long, I saw my small group!! I had no idea they would be there waiting on me. They gave me big cheers, told me I looked great, and I kept moving. My family was on the same bridge as before. I looked up and saw them standing there and had the biggest smile on my face. I wish they were down below for a hug, but seeing them and hearing them cheer for me was a close second. I loped along the waterway and made my way back around for the final loop. For the first time since Hardy, I saw Melissa. She was taking home her third lap and I stopped her for a hug. I had NO idea how proud of her I would feel, but knowing she was about to get her daylight finish really choked me up. I sent her on her way and kept moving.
Blessedly, my family had found a way down onto the Waterway and they were all there for hugs and high fives. I remember stopping to hug them all and I told my mom, "This is so hard, mommy. This is so, so hard." My cousins and everyone else assured me that I looked so strong and reminded me how much time I had left to run 10 more miles. At this point, 10 miles seemed insurmountable. Shortly after that, I saw Doug and Daniel again. Daniel ran out into the Waterway and gave me the biggest hug I've ever gotten in my entire life. All of the spectators in the area ooohed and aaahed over my son's love for me. He hugged me so, so good. Again, it was exactly what I needed, exactly when I needed it.
As I began the third loop, I saw my neighbor from high school. She encouraged me as only an Ironmate can. Her husband did Texas last year, so she has been here and done this. She told me to just keep moving forward, one step at a time. As I began the third loop, things started to get really, really dark. Thankfully, I had presence of mind enough to give Doug my long sleeve T-shirt before the day started. I had picked it up from him on the second loop. As the sun went down in North Shore Park approached, my pace slow dramatically. There were no more tents, no more crowds, no more tri clubs. They had all packed up to head to the finish line. It was dark, lonely, quiet, and hard. Everything was dark. My thoughts, the sky, the race. I never questioned whether I would make it, but I was beginning to wonder if I would be a midnight finisher. My goal all along had been to finish and not need the med tent. Being a midnight finisher was fine with me, but I was beginning to worry about my family. The temperatures had dropped significantly and they had been out there a long time. My kids were getting tired and I knew they would be worried about me.
When I saw mile 21, I picked it up. I knew I only had 5 miles left. It seemed like just a few minutes ago that I had 10 left. Five seemed much more manageable than 10! When I saw mile 22, I hit the wall. I had stepped it up a little too soon. At this point, my walk was not much slower than my run. Everything between my ears told me to walk it in. I knew that I had almost 3 hours to walk 4 miles. It was a real struggle to get my legs moving again. I buddied up with two guys who had given up on running. They had decided to walk it in. While I had not resigned myself to such a feat, I hung with them for a while. Mile 22 to 23 was terrible. I think I was walking about an 18-minute mile. I was so tired. My body was so done. I knew I was going to make it, but my golly. My thoughts were just so, so dark. At some point, I realized how blessed I truly am. The pain that I felt was absolutely nothing compared to what some others are going through in their lives. Here I was, living my dream, and all I could think about was how tired my legs were. What a wuss.
When I saw mile 23, it occurred to me that I had a 5K left. A 5K! How many 5Ks have I run in my life? At that point, I absolutely knew I was going to make it. I found the motivation to start running again. As I neared Hippie Hollow for the final time, the crowds had thinned. There were a few crazy people still out there, but not many. I saw Heather again. Our conversation went something like this:
H: How you doing?
M: I'm tired.
H: You don't look too good.
M: Thanks...
H: You know you have a whole herd of people waiting for you? Julie and Bobby and Karissa and Tiff are all waiting for you at the finish line. Your family is all there.
M: I'm NOT quitting.
H: I know you're not quitting. I'm just telling you there's a whole party waiting for you at the finish line.
M: So you're telling me to get my ass in gear?
H: No. I'm just telling you you're almost there and there's a bunch of people and you're making great time. Just hang in there.
M: So get my ass in gear. Ok. Got it. I'm going.
The next 3 miles went quickly. I started to envision the finish line and my legs really started moving. Once again, my small group surprised me. I would have never imagined that they would have waited for me THIS LONG! I got high fives from all of them, except I somehow missed Bella and Ava. Funny Bella said, " I didn't get a high five!" I made sure to get her the high five she had been waiting for and I got moving again. In no time, I was nearing the finisher's chute. I saw Nick and got HUGE encouragement from him. I saw Heather one more time and she cheered me home.
As I entered the chute, I saw Melissa and Nicole - they had finished almost 2 hours before, but my God they had waited for me. I got high fives from them and then I saw my cousins in the bleachers and flashed them an "I love you" sign. By now, my emotions were off the rails. I didn't know if I should laugh or cry or both. I saw Nova and Matt along one side and my GOD she was screaming her lungs out. "YOU'RE GOING TO BE AN IRONMAN!!!!!" I felt like a pinball running up that chute. Family here, friends there, strangers screaming their guts out for me. I saw my cousins again and my feet touched the red carpet. Doug and Daniel were on the opposite side shouting to the rooftops. Jason and Landen were there, smiling and cheering and bringing me home. My parents and Lia were in the VIP area. I couldn't see through my emotions. It was all so fast and it was all such a blur. I tried to slow down but I didn't know how. Then I heard the words - the words I've been dreaming about for so long. I heard Mike Reilly's voice calling my name - MY NAME! He said the exact words I wanted to hear. "SHERI CAREY FROM LEAGUE CITY TEXAS.... YOU! ARE! AN! IRONMAN!" I spread my arms wide and looked to the heavens. I was home. Home. I could stop moving and I was an Ironman.
Just across the finish line, Julie and Bobby were waiting for me. Tiff and Karissa were videoing and taking pictures and I was home. Liane was there - even though she had been sick, she waited. Julie and Bobby hugged me. They all hugged me. God I was so gross, but my people had brought me home and we all just hugged and laughed and smiled so big I thought my face would split in two. I was home. 15 hours, 12 minutes, and 52 seconds later, I was home.
The next few minutes were so fast and so full of emotion. I found Melissa and Nicole. More stinky, disgusting hugs from people who love me. I closed my eyes and breathed it all in. The emotion. My God the emotion. So raw and so many emotions. Relief. Joy. Excitement. Exhaustion. Pain. Euphoria. I had no idea how deep it would feel to be an Ironman. I soon linked up with my family and I could breathe again. We made our way to the car. I hugged my babies. I kissed my husband. I hugged my parents so, so tightly. I was home. I made Doug look at me in that moment and I said, "I never want to do this again." I think he knew that was a lie, but he said ok and helped me get into the car. He went to get my bike from transition and my parents got me back to the hotel.
The next two hours were awful. I was sick. Lord was I sick. All of the gels I had taken in from the day came back to greet me. I was shivering uncontrollably. Daniel snuggled with me in the bed to try to help warm me up, but this chill was deep. After an hour or so of shaking and being sick, everything started to even out. My body slowly began to forgive me, but my mind was changed forever. After all of the training and the sweat and the tears and the uncertainty, I had reached my goal. I am an Ironman.
Sleep came in waves again that night. I had leg cramps a few times, cold sweats a few times, and woke up for no good reason a few times. Daniel woke me up around 7 and we went through the motions of breakfast and decided to go spend some money at Ironman Village. When I got down to the truck, Doug had cued Black Sabbath at about 250 decibels. My face split into a grin and I said, with great authority, "I am Ironman!!!"
Even now, 4 days later, I can hardly believe it. It was such an amazing journey. Such emotions. Such gratitude. They say that you aren't the same person at the end of the day, and now I know that to be true. It may sound hokey and ridiculous, but things just seem different now. The things that should be more important are somehow. The things that don't really matter just don't really matter. I've never been lost, per say, but out there on that race course, I redefined who I am - who I want to be. I know now more than ever that I need Jesus and that He makes me who I am. I know now more than ever how I'm supposed to love my kids, how I'm supposed to love and serve my husband, how I'm supposed to appreciate my parents.
For every one of you who helped make this dream a reality, I encourage you to make your own dream a reality. Set a goal. Make the time. Recruit your family. Invest in your friends. At the end of it all, make sure you know - really know - who you are and how you fit into your own world. To every one of you who helped make this dream a reality, thank you from the absolute bottom of my heart. Because of you, I have a new heart. One that loves bigger, dreams bolder, and cares more deeply. For that, I can never repay you, but I will spend the rest of my life trying.
As I have said so many times throughout this journey, that is all. Carry on.
As I ran out of the tent, I saw Doug ! He was hanging over the fence near my bike cheering me all the way. I think I said something like, "hey baby!" I grabbed my bike and motored over to the mount line. I was so grateful to be on with the second leg of my journey! It was still a beautiful day. We had some cloud cover and a slight breeze. It was shaping up to be a great morning.
As I wove my way through the Woodlands, I focused on finding my legs and thinking about getting to the Hardy Toll Road. This was the first chunk of the second chunk. As I neared the turnaround, Melissa shouted out at me and I had a surge of adrenaline. I was so grateful to see how strong she looked. It gave me motivation to keep spinning my legs and looking for the next checkpoint.
Somewhere around the turn off, I heard sirens. I had no idea what was going on, but I knew it couldn't be good. There were firetrucks, ambulances, and I could hear life flight on the way. I prayed it was not serious and continued on my way. I would later learn that a man had died during the swim. I have been just consumed with this over the last few days, but I learned yesterday that he was a great man who loved Jesus and I am confident that he died doing what he loved and has reached his own finish line in Heaven.
I thanked every police officer and volunteer I passed. It gave me something to think about that wasn't myself. As I neared the Hardy Toll Road, I was ever so grateful I had spoken to everyone along the way. Once we reached Hardy, other humans who were not on bicycles were few and far between. At this point of the race, the wind was very shifty. I couldn't tell what it was doing or where it was coming from, but I knew it was doing something that I didn't like. I fought my way south for the first 20 miles half expecting a tailwind on the way back. Imagine my dismay when I made the U-turn and there was no such tailwind. "That's OK," I thought. "You've trained in the wind. 20 miles will end soon enough." I put my head down and concentrated on getting up each and every overpass. Me and Jesus had a lot to talk about on that 20-mile stretch of road. I was mentally prepared for the overpasses, but I was not prepared to climb over passes into a 15MPH headwind. On many occasions, I ran out of gears. I just focused on counting. I would get out of the saddle for eight counts and then sit down for eight counts. Once I finally reached the top of each overpass, I would sit down and cruise for a little while. I tried really hard not to think about the second loop. I tried to be grateful for the cloud cover. I told God that we had discussed this wind. My children, husband, and I had been praying relentlessly for no wind for months. This was not part of the plan, but God knows better than I do. I tried to make peace with it and focused on each pedal stroke. I prayed for myself. I prayed for others. I prayed for the wind to stop, although I knew it was in vain.
By the time I reached the turnaround, it was like a party. That tailwind hit me and I knew I had to make up for lost time. Bruce, my bike, effortlessly carried me the next 20 miles. I don't think I ever got out of my big ring, even on the mountainous overpass that was 1960. I knew heading down that overpass with such a stiff tailwind it was going to be interesting. I began chanting out loud, "the glory of the Lord will be my rear guard." I said it all the way up the overpass and all the way down. I didn't know this until yesterday, but my highest speed on that overpass was 32 miles an hour. It was terrifying. I didn't know if anyone was behind me and I was afraid to touch my brakes. As I repeated my scripture the last time, my voice came out in a sob and I nearly choked. The fear was palpable, but I had made it to the bottom and it was time to focus on the next overpass. I got my emotions in check and continued to turn my legs over, one pedal stroke at a time. I kept an eye out for familiar faces on the other side of the course. I saw Melissa and several Tri4Him guys. I called out to each of them as they passed. I also tried to encourage the others who were on their first loop that the tailwind was coming. "Hang in there! Don't give up! The tailwind is coming!"
Once I reached the final turn around, my race was entirely between my ears. I tried to focus on what John had said about the last 10k of the run. I knew that if I blew my legs up now, I would never make it through a marathon. Nicole passed me just after the turn around. We exchanged a few words, and she was gone. Again, I drew confidence and motivation from seeing her on the course. Knowing she was out there killing it helped me focus on my own race. I remember at mile 80 saying out loud, "I never have to do this again. No one can ever make me do this again." There was no way in the world I was ever giving up, but I knew once I finished, it would be over and I would never have to do this again. Period. If I didn't want to.
The next 20 miles was spent much the same as the first time around. Lots of prayer. Lots of pleading. Lots of spinning my legs and trying not to give up. I ran out of gears on almost every overpass. I saw people giving up left and right. Near the end of that final loop, I saw a lady walking her bike. I asked her if she was OK and she shook her head no. Fortunately, I saw SAG about 100 yards down the road. I called out to him and told him that the lady behind me needed his help. Not long after that, a bigger guy on a Cervelo came up next to me. We chatted for a while. He told me that he felt like Fuji and Cervelo owed us money for the wind tunnel test we were conducting for their bikes. We both laughed and discussed why in the world we ever wanted to do this crazy thing called Ironman. We soon parted ways and continued struggling into the wind. Did I mention the wind was 15 miles an hour? Sustained? With up to 30 mile an hour gusts? K. Just making sure I mentioned that.
Again, once I hit that final turn around, it was a party. I knew I was home free. I had 12 miles left until I could get off of my bike and put on my running shoes. I wound on my way through the Woodlands, again, and focused on getting to that dismount line. My thoughts had gotten a little dark at this point. I was thinking to myself that I had never wanted to do anything less in my entire life than I wanted to run a marathon. I just wanted to sit down. I knew that 26.2 miles lay ahead of me and I was not looking forward to them.
As I got closer to town, there were people all over the place. I again thanked every police officer and every volunteer, grateful to be able to speak to another human again. There were people, dogs, kids, cowbells, signs, and everything in between. I felt like I was at a race again! I said to myself, "Sheri? You better get yourself together. If you continue to have an attitude like this, you will never finish this race. You better be grateful. You better find something to be grateful for." I had a 180° turn in my thoughts. I started to look forward to getting off of my bike. I was looking forward to putting my running shoes on. I was looking forward to seeing friends and family cheering me on. I was looking forward to the waterway. The final leg of the second chunk was upon me. My official bike time was nearly an hour longer than I had hoped at 7:27:15.
Somewhere close to transition, I saw Heather again. She shouted out to me and again, I found myself full of gratitude for a friendly face and a cheerful smile. One of the volunteers told me that transition was half a mile ahead. I had never been so grateful in my life! As I dismounted, I heard someone shouting my name. I looked up and lo and behold, I saw my old boss. I had no idea she would be there and seeing her face and hearing her cheer me on gave me such a boost. I ran out of my way to give her a hug over the fence. At this point, I saw Davin, Bobby, and Bryan. They were cheering me on and told me Nicole was just ahead of me in transition. About two seconds after that, I saw Tiff, Karissa, Julie, and Liane. They were waiting for me in transition! They were encouraging me, making me laugh, and running alongside me into the change tent. I had no idea that a welcome wagon would be waiting for me when I got off my bike. What a welcome surprise!
As I walked into the changing tent, I saw a Swim Bike Mom compatriot. Amie Quin was a tri angel sent straight from above. She went through my bag one item at a time in and helped me prepare for the next 26 miles. She slathered sunscreen on my shoulders and filled my water bottle with ice. She spoke some encouraging words to me and sent me on my way. As I came out of the change tent, I looked down at my watch. Another 10 minute transition.
I saw an old friend from high school cheering me on. I remember saying something about not dying and headed out for the next 26 miles. The run course is absolutely phenomenal. There are spectators everywhere along the Waterway. Tri clubs know where the dark parts of the course are in they are there to help you through them. Shortly after mile one, I saw Nova, the chiropractor from the fitness center. She ran alongside me for about half a mile and assured me that I was going to be an Ironman. Her enthusiasm and the big smile on her face gave me a pep in my step and helped me through the next several miles. Then I saw Randi and Adam and Randi ran with me for a good .25 miles. She gave me the same encouragement Nova did and sent me on my way.
After I turned left on Panther Creek, the crowds disappeared. There was no music. There were no signs. There were no cowbells. Just a shady path, the smell of honeysuckle, and my own thoughts. I tried to find someone running my pace to keep me company, but they were few and far between. As I drew closer to the Waterway, I started getting excited about seeing my family. Surely they were just ahead. Before long, I was in Hippie Hollow. I could have never imagined what sort of lift that would give my spirits. You don't know what it's like to run being chased by a man dressed in a red speedo and suspenders beating a trashcan with drumsticks until you've done it. If it sounds totally insane, it is! There were signs everywhere saying there's no walking in hippie Hollow. No kidding! You couldn't walk even if you wanted to. The crowds and their enthusiasm is infectious. There is loud music, Crazy signs, and even crazier costumes. My pace picked up significantly, especially as I thought about seeing my family in the next mile or two.
I saw Heather again and asked her, "Where is my family???" I thought I would definitely have seen them by now! She told me she didn't know, but she would find out. As I rounded the bend and passed my old office, my cousin and her sweet girls were up on the hillside. I was so excited to see my family! I flashed them an I love you, asked, "Where on earth are my parents???" and continued on my way. They didn't know either as they had just arrived. I snaked along the waterway and once again, I found my thoughts turning dark. I had run almost 8 miles now and there was no sign of my family. I began to wonder if I could run another 8 miles without their hugs and encouragement. I was just starting to get really discouraged when I heard my name from up on a bridge. There they were! My parents, my cousins, my neighbors - waving their arms and screaming like maniacs. I had never been so happy to see them in my entire life! Because they were backlit, I had no idea that Doug and the kids weren't with them. I could hear my mommy and my daddy above all the other noise. I guess all of those years at the softball field came back to me and I could hear my parents shouting their love and encouragement from the rooftops. About 10 yards farther down the waterway, there were my babies! I got sweet kisses from Lia, a huge hug from Daniel, and an atta girl and a kiss from Doug. My mother-in-law was there too, smiling and encouraging me every step of the way. That was exactly what I needed, exactly when I needed it. As I began the second loop, I knew what to expect. I had been here and done this. One down, two to go.
Around mile 13 or 14, I started falling apart. My GI system had had enough. I was on the bridge near South Shore Park and started gagging. I wasn't sure what to do. On one hand, I felt like if I could just be sick and get it over with, I would feel better. On the other hand, I was afraid that once I started, I wouldn't be able to stop. I slowed to a walk and kept my eye on my heart rate. I was sipping water and jogging about half a mile at a time. As I approached the Waterway for the second time, I ran into a teammate, Ross. He's been training with my coach for a long time. I figured if I couldn't talk to John, Ross was a close second. I told him about my GI issues and asked him what he would do. He suggested that I stop taking in anything at the aid stations and focus on sipping water. Thankfully, that worked! Around mile 15 or 16, my gut settled down and I was able to run some more.
Again, as I flew through Hippie Hollow, I started to get excited about seeing my family again. Before long, I saw my small group!! I had no idea they would be there waiting on me. They gave me big cheers, told me I looked great, and I kept moving. My family was on the same bridge as before. I looked up and saw them standing there and had the biggest smile on my face. I wish they were down below for a hug, but seeing them and hearing them cheer for me was a close second. I loped along the waterway and made my way back around for the final loop. For the first time since Hardy, I saw Melissa. She was taking home her third lap and I stopped her for a hug. I had NO idea how proud of her I would feel, but knowing she was about to get her daylight finish really choked me up. I sent her on her way and kept moving.
Blessedly, my family had found a way down onto the Waterway and they were all there for hugs and high fives. I remember stopping to hug them all and I told my mom, "This is so hard, mommy. This is so, so hard." My cousins and everyone else assured me that I looked so strong and reminded me how much time I had left to run 10 more miles. At this point, 10 miles seemed insurmountable. Shortly after that, I saw Doug and Daniel again. Daniel ran out into the Waterway and gave me the biggest hug I've ever gotten in my entire life. All of the spectators in the area ooohed and aaahed over my son's love for me. He hugged me so, so good. Again, it was exactly what I needed, exactly when I needed it.
As I began the third loop, I saw my neighbor from high school. She encouraged me as only an Ironmate can. Her husband did Texas last year, so she has been here and done this. She told me to just keep moving forward, one step at a time. As I began the third loop, things started to get really, really dark. Thankfully, I had presence of mind enough to give Doug my long sleeve T-shirt before the day started. I had picked it up from him on the second loop. As the sun went down in North Shore Park approached, my pace slow dramatically. There were no more tents, no more crowds, no more tri clubs. They had all packed up to head to the finish line. It was dark, lonely, quiet, and hard. Everything was dark. My thoughts, the sky, the race. I never questioned whether I would make it, but I was beginning to wonder if I would be a midnight finisher. My goal all along had been to finish and not need the med tent. Being a midnight finisher was fine with me, but I was beginning to worry about my family. The temperatures had dropped significantly and they had been out there a long time. My kids were getting tired and I knew they would be worried about me.
When I saw mile 21, I picked it up. I knew I only had 5 miles left. It seemed like just a few minutes ago that I had 10 left. Five seemed much more manageable than 10! When I saw mile 22, I hit the wall. I had stepped it up a little too soon. At this point, my walk was not much slower than my run. Everything between my ears told me to walk it in. I knew that I had almost 3 hours to walk 4 miles. It was a real struggle to get my legs moving again. I buddied up with two guys who had given up on running. They had decided to walk it in. While I had not resigned myself to such a feat, I hung with them for a while. Mile 22 to 23 was terrible. I think I was walking about an 18-minute mile. I was so tired. My body was so done. I knew I was going to make it, but my golly. My thoughts were just so, so dark. At some point, I realized how blessed I truly am. The pain that I felt was absolutely nothing compared to what some others are going through in their lives. Here I was, living my dream, and all I could think about was how tired my legs were. What a wuss.
When I saw mile 23, it occurred to me that I had a 5K left. A 5K! How many 5Ks have I run in my life? At that point, I absolutely knew I was going to make it. I found the motivation to start running again. As I neared Hippie Hollow for the final time, the crowds had thinned. There were a few crazy people still out there, but not many. I saw Heather again. Our conversation went something like this:
H: How you doing?
M: I'm tired.
H: You don't look too good.
M: Thanks...
H: You know you have a whole herd of people waiting for you? Julie and Bobby and Karissa and Tiff are all waiting for you at the finish line. Your family is all there.
M: I'm NOT quitting.
H: I know you're not quitting. I'm just telling you there's a whole party waiting for you at the finish line.
M: So you're telling me to get my ass in gear?
H: No. I'm just telling you you're almost there and there's a bunch of people and you're making great time. Just hang in there.
M: So get my ass in gear. Ok. Got it. I'm going.
The next 3 miles went quickly. I started to envision the finish line and my legs really started moving. Once again, my small group surprised me. I would have never imagined that they would have waited for me THIS LONG! I got high fives from all of them, except I somehow missed Bella and Ava. Funny Bella said, " I didn't get a high five!" I made sure to get her the high five she had been waiting for and I got moving again. In no time, I was nearing the finisher's chute. I saw Nick and got HUGE encouragement from him. I saw Heather one more time and she cheered me home.
As I entered the chute, I saw Melissa and Nicole - they had finished almost 2 hours before, but my God they had waited for me. I got high fives from them and then I saw my cousins in the bleachers and flashed them an "I love you" sign. By now, my emotions were off the rails. I didn't know if I should laugh or cry or both. I saw Nova and Matt along one side and my GOD she was screaming her lungs out. "YOU'RE GOING TO BE AN IRONMAN!!!!!" I felt like a pinball running up that chute. Family here, friends there, strangers screaming their guts out for me. I saw my cousins again and my feet touched the red carpet. Doug and Daniel were on the opposite side shouting to the rooftops. Jason and Landen were there, smiling and cheering and bringing me home. My parents and Lia were in the VIP area. I couldn't see through my emotions. It was all so fast and it was all such a blur. I tried to slow down but I didn't know how. Then I heard the words - the words I've been dreaming about for so long. I heard Mike Reilly's voice calling my name - MY NAME! He said the exact words I wanted to hear. "SHERI CAREY FROM LEAGUE CITY TEXAS.... YOU! ARE! AN! IRONMAN!" I spread my arms wide and looked to the heavens. I was home. Home. I could stop moving and I was an Ironman.
Just across the finish line, Julie and Bobby were waiting for me. Tiff and Karissa were videoing and taking pictures and I was home. Liane was there - even though she had been sick, she waited. Julie and Bobby hugged me. They all hugged me. God I was so gross, but my people had brought me home and we all just hugged and laughed and smiled so big I thought my face would split in two. I was home. 15 hours, 12 minutes, and 52 seconds later, I was home.
The next few minutes were so fast and so full of emotion. I found Melissa and Nicole. More stinky, disgusting hugs from people who love me. I closed my eyes and breathed it all in. The emotion. My God the emotion. So raw and so many emotions. Relief. Joy. Excitement. Exhaustion. Pain. Euphoria. I had no idea how deep it would feel to be an Ironman. I soon linked up with my family and I could breathe again. We made our way to the car. I hugged my babies. I kissed my husband. I hugged my parents so, so tightly. I was home. I made Doug look at me in that moment and I said, "I never want to do this again." I think he knew that was a lie, but he said ok and helped me get into the car. He went to get my bike from transition and my parents got me back to the hotel.
The next two hours were awful. I was sick. Lord was I sick. All of the gels I had taken in from the day came back to greet me. I was shivering uncontrollably. Daniel snuggled with me in the bed to try to help warm me up, but this chill was deep. After an hour or so of shaking and being sick, everything started to even out. My body slowly began to forgive me, but my mind was changed forever. After all of the training and the sweat and the tears and the uncertainty, I had reached my goal. I am an Ironman.
Sleep came in waves again that night. I had leg cramps a few times, cold sweats a few times, and woke up for no good reason a few times. Daniel woke me up around 7 and we went through the motions of breakfast and decided to go spend some money at Ironman Village. When I got down to the truck, Doug had cued Black Sabbath at about 250 decibels. My face split into a grin and I said, with great authority, "I am Ironman!!!"
Even now, 4 days later, I can hardly believe it. It was such an amazing journey. Such emotions. Such gratitude. They say that you aren't the same person at the end of the day, and now I know that to be true. It may sound hokey and ridiculous, but things just seem different now. The things that should be more important are somehow. The things that don't really matter just don't really matter. I've never been lost, per say, but out there on that race course, I redefined who I am - who I want to be. I know now more than ever that I need Jesus and that He makes me who I am. I know now more than ever how I'm supposed to love my kids, how I'm supposed to love and serve my husband, how I'm supposed to appreciate my parents.
For every one of you who helped make this dream a reality, I encourage you to make your own dream a reality. Set a goal. Make the time. Recruit your family. Invest in your friends. At the end of it all, make sure you know - really know - who you are and how you fit into your own world. To every one of you who helped make this dream a reality, thank you from the absolute bottom of my heart. Because of you, I have a new heart. One that loves bigger, dreams bolder, and cares more deeply. For that, I can never repay you, but I will spend the rest of my life trying.
As I have said so many times throughout this journey, that is all. Carry on.
