RACE REPORT, continued
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continued on page 19
DECEMBER 2014
18
stuffed into my pockets, basically salt tabs and
gels. Had a hat and kept my sunglasses on too.
I had followed my nutrition plan on the bike and
had eaten two PB&J’s and drank an Ensure along
with gallons of water and electrolytes and salt
tabs so I didn’t feel depleted in any way. I visited the Sunscreen People and was so happy to
start the run, which is my FAVORITE part of the
race. I was almost done… I mean, I had already
gone 114.4 miles… only 26.2 to go, right???
As I began the run, I thought about Marc and
where he was. Nobody had given me updates as
I flew by them, but my guess was that he was
well into his run at this point. We had predicted
that he would finish 2-3 hours before me. I TOLD
you he was fast. I was hoping to pass him on the
run course at some point during the 2 loops, but
never did. I saw a slew of TCSD folks and other
friends who were either athletes or volunteers.
The crowd support is great on at least half of the
run. There are some lonely and dark stretches but
that’s when the mental toughness kicks in. To
finish an Ironman is really a mental game.
Nobody gets to the run without some ache or
pain or general tiredness. It’s amazing what you
can accomplish with training, inspiration and
motivation. A little Godly intervention also
helps.
My coach had warned us about the dangers of
starting out too fast on the run and I had experienced the detrimental results at a 70.3 race
earlier in the year. I knew at the start of the run
that if I could do a 4:30 marathon, I would finish in sub-13:30. My goal had been 14 hours so
I was motivated to not blow up. I mentally broke
the race down into two half marathons. The first
half went well and I had to concentrate to slow
myself down. I saw our friend Marc and my family at the end of loop 1 and felt super-energized.
They commented on how well I looked (yeh,
right), but I ate it up.
I didn’t come to a complete stop EVER in the
whole race but would slow to get food/drink.
Just keep moving, I thought. My coach’s voice
kept creeping into my head and I distracted
myself thinking of running form issues… kick my
feet up a little more in the back, knees a little
higher up front, relax my arms and shoulders. I
thought of Marc often, where he was in the race,
how great our training had been. He was the per-
fect training partner for me… I had a tendency
to get that reel of negative thoughts in my mind
and it would affect my races. He taught me how
to be confident and competitive; it made a huge
difference in how I approached and completed
races. He is done by now, I thought after my
firsts loop, glad that he’d get a chance to recover before making his way back to the finish line
to wait for me.
Around mile 19 or so I began to tire significantly. I knew this “wall” was coming and figured I’d just ride it out and that the excitement
of the last few miles would pull me through. I
think I slowed to an 11-min mile at one point.
However, true to my prediction, around mile 2223, I picked it up. I used the last few miles to
plan what my finish would look like. I didn’t
want to be a crying mess, so I began to smile.
Yep, I was a smiling fool beginning at about mile
23. Smiled at volunteers, athletes, whomever I
came across. Lots of people were walking at this
point and I would encourage folks every chance
I got. The thankfulness was overwhelming.
People commented on my smiling, energizing me
even more.
I could hear Mike Reilly’s voice, naming the
Ironmen crossing the finish line. Approaching
the chute was a feeling like none other. All the
blood, sweat, and tears of training for this
moment! The crowd was loud. My arms were in
the air, my smile even brighter. I think I gave
some high-fives but I wanted to savor the
moment… please let this chute go on for another mile!!! I was drinking it in.
Melissa Merklinger YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!!
My time was 13:22, well faster than my goal,
and I had passed 93 people in my age group
since that snail-like swim to move up to 33rd
place. So happy!!!
Most would say that this is the end of their
story. But mine was just beginning. Four steps
after the finish line, a Mylar blanket was
wrapped around me. I turned, and there was
Marc, standing at the finish line. I instinctively
hugged him not thinking that the finish line
area is secured, meaning NOBODY is allowed back
in there, even athletes. I stepped back and
looked at him. He was not wearing his racing kit.
He had a tuxedo shirt on, red bow tie, red cummerbund, black tri shorts, his signature red calf