140.6

As many of you know, I did it; sassy-femme (aka Jennifer Jabson) is an Ironman. Unbelievable. As promised the race inspired a full range of emotions from denial and fear all the way to the pinnacle of exhilaration. I am still unable to articulate the sense of joy and bursting relief that surged through me when I crossed the finish line on Sunday night.

It had been a long day of swimming, climbing hills on my bike and then running through the city of Madison. Then, in a dark, quiet neighborhood, about a mile from the finish line, I began to hear the dull roar of the crowds ahead. I rounded another corner or two and around the buildings I could see the glow of what I new were the blazing finish line lights. Another corner, and a second. Then the darkness and silence was broken. There were people in the streets again, people cheering me on...me, lil' old Jenny Jabson, me. And there, at the final turn, there was the crowd, the blinding white lights, the finish line and that great big voice announcing, "Jennifer Jabson, you are an Ironman". I held my breath in order to choke back the tears that were a mixture of my relief and my joy that came from fulfilling a dream that started so many years ago. But I have gotten ahead of myself, here's how the day went.

We got up at 3:30 a.m. to get ourselves ready. At 4:30 a.m. we boarded a shuttle with several other nervous nellies and their support crews and then arrived for body marking at 5 a.m. I felt like an ant in an ant hill trying to get my tasks done amidst ten-million other little ants. There was a buzz in the air that made my skin have goosebumps and my heart pound. Walking slowly in the dim light of the parking lot lights to my bike I checked my heart rate....it was off the charts. I kept thinking 'breathe, breathe'. It was still dark out, that felt safe, and also somehow very wrong.

We had our wetsuits on and we were warming up in the water by 6:23 a.m. just before the official sunrise. The water was a really nice 71 degrees, and there was a warm hue that promised a gorgeous sunrise out over the horizon. Initially I felt pretty calm. Then at 6:59, the announcer promised the cannon would fire in less than one minute. "YIKES, I'VE MADE A MISTAKE, I THINK I NEED TO GE...." at 7 a.m. the cannon went off. That's when calm left the scene and my new friend 'oh dear god swim for your life' joined me. So I put my head down and I swam the best 2.4 miles that I have ever swam, 1:27.

The transition to the bike was much longer than I had planned or hoped for (nearly 13 minutes). I ran/walked/pulled myself out of the water, got stripped by the wetsuit strippers (which is so funny to write, and yes I had a swim suit on underneath) and then ran up the 'helix' to the top of the parking garage to go into the hotel to get the needed cycling gear and change for the ride (doesn't that sound long???). I successfully changed into cycling-femme (from swimming-femme), and ran to my bike (after making the first of what was undoubtedly 110 bathroom stops for the day). The transition was a blur of wetsuits, sandwiches, cycling jerseys, and women running around trying to do an Ironman and I can hardly remember anything except that I kept thinking "omg, I got out of the water so fast!!!".

Riding down the second helix back to the road (what's the deal with these helix things anyway? Ground level transitions would be SO much easier...less dramatic sure, but EASIER...it IS an ironman people!) I quickly realized that my bike computer had died. The last information it gave me was '2.3' the speed that I had started walking with my bike in the transition. So I did what all self respecting Ironpeople do....I hit it again and again hoping to shock it into submission. Nothing. Dead. As a doornail.

The ride portion of the day was the longest portion of the day. It included 112 miles of gorgeous Wisconsin countryside, thousands of support crew/volunteers, more spectators than I could count and hills like I could have never predicted. I did know that the course was hilly and we spent a lot of our training on hills during the preparation for this event. But the relentlessness of the hills on the 80 mile loop was amazing. I have never worked so hard and had so much challenge and euphoria at the same time. We gained 6000 feet!! I'm telling you, it was awesome. The views were breathtaking, the cows were also, well, breathtaking (but in a very different way). It was amazing. 8:02 was my final bike time. This is two minutes over my goal, but a) I did stop at 89 porta-bathrooms and b) did I mention the hills???

The transition (T2) to the run was wacky. I got of my bike, hugged my Mom (yep I sure did!), and gulped back a little tear. I was whipped. But, after instructing the volunteer who took my bike to sell her, b/c I would certainly not ever be riding her again, I trotted into the T2 area to do my third costume change....runner-femme.

Runner-femme was more like walker-hope-I can-do this-femme for about 12 minutes. Then, suddenly I felt like running (which is insane....think about it...112 miles on a bike and I felt like going for a run???). So I did. I ran about 50% of the marathon portion of the race. At mile 12.9 I thought I was going to loose it. My body hurt, but more than that my brain was telling me to stop. My brain was playing for the other team and had no intention of letting me feel the euphoria of crossing the finish line. Thankfully I met a very nice man who gave some great advice. He provided instructions for how to keep the body moving....despite the tapes in my head. Yea for Doug! So I kept moving. Then I saw my family and friends...got lots of hugs and kisses and good energy and I was off. The second 13.1 was hard, challenging in a way that words cannot describe. I thought of nothing. My mind was a blank. The act of moving forward became a mechanical, singularly focused action. I did not think of the finish, only of the moment. What did I feel, what did I need, what was the time....the moment (whichever one it was) was all my brain could handle.

The food on the run course was 'awesome'. When I say 'food' I mean water, ice chips, wet sponges, gatoraid, cola, chicken broth, gel packs, bananas and oranges. When I say 'awesome' I mean that there was plenty of it and the volunteers would practically hold a glass for you while you drank if you needed it. Truly, w/o the broth and cola, I would have been a goner. The salt kept me from cramping (I've never had need for this before....but I had been out there for 12 hours when I started craving the broth), and the cola was really great for my upset tummy. Three cheers for 'gourmet' race food (I've gone too far with the description I know).

FInally, at about 11:10 I realized that I was going to make it. I wasn't willing to think about it, or able to think about it, prior to that moment. But in that second, it all became real. The emotion swelled up in my throat (which is exactly what you don't need after 16 hours and 10 minutes of aerobic exercise!!!), and I could hear the spectators screaming, encouraging and cheering for us....the back-of-the-packers! They waited for us!!! So I started to jog...even though it was uphill...I jogged around a corner and there were people in the street cheering me on....I rounded another corner and I could see the glow of the spot lights...then there they were....thousands of people screaming like I have never heard before. Then they started yelling my name. Me! My name (granted I was wearing it on the front of my shirt: 2030 JENNIFER). So I focused, and I ran...I ran into the lights...under one arch and into the IRONMAN FINISHER tape to the second arch....and I heard: JENNIFER JABSON: YOU ARE AN IRONMAN.
Total time : 16.22.53....my secret goal time that I never told anyone!

I did it. I finished. It was an out of body experience. It was an IN body experience. It was the most challenging, heart wrenching, exhilarating, joyful, powerful, incredible, HARD, empowering experience of my life. I am unable to adequately articulate the range of emotions, the depth of emotions, or the feeling that comes when the boundaries of the body and the mind blur to become one.

As I have said before, thank you. Thank you for your encouragement and support all year in this process. I felt each of you out there with me at one point or another on race day. I called on your encouraging words, and laughed at your jokes. Sometimes I pretended that you were watching me from the W Coast....and as it turns out some of you where (props to you!!!!). I could not have made this journey on my own. You helped me get there and I am deeply and sincerely grateful for your contributions. From my perspective there is only one thing left to say: when is the next one? :) I'm kidding...sort of. But really:

I am an Ironman.