I’m back from my vacation in the Dominican Republic and writing to you as an IRONMAN!!! It may have taken me 14 hours, 54 minutes and 15 seconds but today and for the rest of my life I can call myself an Ironman. This experience was everything I could have wanted it to be and more. It was not always perfect. I still remember the many bike rides that by hour five I was cursing my aching back and uncomfortable bike seat, the 18 mile runs where I could barely move my legs up San Vicente in the scorching heat of a Sunday afternoon while I missed my Bears playing the Vikings or the freezing swims in the shark infested waters of Manhattan beach. I remember tears actually coming to my eyes one morning as my alarm went off at 4am to do a 15 mile run before work and already exhausted from my swim and bike ride the day before. This was not an easy year but the way I felt the moment I crossed that finish line was worth all the fear, uncertainty, pain and tears. Crossing that finish line will remain such a part of me for the rest of my life that I can only hope to relive something as perfect as that moment in this lifetime. So I guess I better explain what led up to that moment that day.
2am wake up:
I woke up at 2am with my throat on fire and barely able to talk. Brian grabbed the advil and I tried to force them down with water but my throat hurt so bad that it was impossible to swallow anything. We heated up some water with honey and forced down the pills and tried to get back to bed for another two hours of sleep. Tears began to fill my eyes as I became overwhelmed with fear of the day that lay ahead of me with my throat hurting so badly. I calmed myself down as I remembered my coach’s advice from the week before. He had explained to me that my race would not be perfect. Things were going to go wrong. What was going to make this a successful race was how I would handle those obstacles I was bound to encounter. Would I acknowledge my adversity and feel sorry for myself and let it spiral into a whirlwind of self pity and negativity or would I embrace it and say, “Today I am going to be an IRONMAN!!!!” Those words struck deep with me in the early hours before my race and I decided that this was just my first obstacle I had to face. Today I was going to be an Ironman.
Swim 1:18:06:I found myself standing on the white sand staring out at the blue water as the sun began to rise trying to figure out how I possible got here. Brian found me splashing in the shore five minutes before the gun went off and grabbed me to show me where my parents were since they were desperately looking for me. The moment I saw my mom the tears began to flow. I was so overwhelmed with excitement, nervousness and happiness that I could not hold back. This whole year had been leading up to this day and it was moments from finally being here. I get teary eyed now as I think about it. I kissed everyone and wiped my tears and rushed with the girls to the middle of the pack. When the gun went off the tears began to flow again. I was literally knocked back to reality with a swift kick to the face by the person in front of me. The swim was so much worse then I could have possibly imagined. I was kicked, pulled, swam over, held under and even got my goggles pulled off. It was complete insanity for over twenty minutes of the swim. We were like sardines swimming for our lives in the same direction but with no room to move. I began to chuckle with how unbelievably chaotic the scene was. Half way through the first lap I was able to break free and find my groove. I got out of the water from my first lap and could not believe how fast I was going. The current of 2500 people swimming at once caused a whirlpool that pulled me around those buoys. I jumped back in the water for my second lap feeling on top of the world. I saw a jellyfish on the second lap, which caused me to speed up in hopes of just getting out of the water unharmed. I came out at one hour eighteen minutes, which was far faster then I could have imagined. I rushed through the screaming crowds to the transition area. I made my way into the tent where the wonderful volunteers helped me change into my bike clothes and rub sun block all over me.
Bike 7:16:57:
It was long and flat and windy. Not much else you can say about the bike other than it was long and flat and windy. It was pretty boring. I stopped three times to use the bathroom. I drank all six of my water bottles I had planned on drinking with the help of the cough drops I bought the day before and my wonderful mom that met me at mile fifty with some hot tea to sooth my sore throat (cant ask for a better mom). I ate my peanut butter and honey uncrustables, a bag of cheese-its, and some fig newtons. I cried again in the first few miles of the bike as the reality started the set in that I was really here. All this hard work and I was finally doing it. There were lots of tears during the race. I was one huge bag of emotions. When I saw my mom with the tea the waterworks began again. They were all happy tears though. Well, maybe not just happy tears, they were happy, excited, overwhelmed, nervous tears but not sad tears. The headwind was pretty unbearable. I felt like every corner I turned the wind was coming straight at me. I tried to calm myself down and tell myself how lucky I was that all I had to deal with was wind and not huge hills like all the other Ironman courses. I also tried to remind myself how lucky I was to have my family and friends all along the course supporting me (including my dad stopping traffic so he could snap some shots of me on my bike). I finished the bike in just about the time I had hoped for and I was relatively feeling good and excited to start the run. My throat was pretty raw but I hoped some cough drops would help fix that up quickly. I jumped off my bike and wobbled over to the changing tent ready to begin the real challenge of the race.
Run 6:01:37:
The run started out great. My throat hurt a lot but they had chicken broth on the course that seemed to sooth it for a bit. The course was two out and backs so I tried to look strong because I knew I would see Brian finishing the race and I wanted him to see me happy and looking good since I knew he was really worried about me. I saw him at my mile four and his mile twenty-two and he looked amazing. He stopped to give me a big kiss and tell me he would be waiting for me at the finish line. That gave me the little boost I needed to push me the next six miles. At about mile ten I started to break down. My throat was on fire. I could not swallow any of the cold liquids and the hot chicken broth was starting to make me feel queasy. As I was running in my first lap everyone began to scream for me to run it in hard since I was almost there not realizing I had another lap to go. It was a bit demoralizing having people screaming for me that I was almost at the finish line when I knew I was fifteen miles away. I saw my mom at the halfway point and the tears began to flow again. My throat was so closed up I could barely tell her that I was not able to take down any liquids. Being the most unbelievable mom in the world she was waiting for me with two advil and more hot tea. I took some more cough drops and the notes I desperately needed from my family and friends for inspiration. I tried to run for nine minutes and walk for one minute and read a note every time I had to walk. Those notes definitely helped push me to mile nineteen. I kept telling myself that as long as I did not walk for more than that one minute every nine minutes, I could make it to that finish line. At one point I was jogging so slowly that a guy walked right passed me. It actually made me chuckle a bit because Brian always teases me that he walks faster than I run. At about mile nineteen I completely fell apart. My throat had closed up so much that I could not breath when I tried to jog. I could not drink the chicken broth because it made me feel sick so I tried to gargle it and spit it out to relieve some pain my throat. I did not take down any liquids during the whole second half of the run. The only reason I did not pass out was because I had been so disciplined about my nutrition on the bike. I am so thankful for Paul’s advice. There was a moment when I was out there in the pitch dark of night with only glow sticks around my ankles to lead my path that I looked in front of me and behind me and could not see a soul in sight besides the trees that lined that street. It was the first time I said to myself, “what the hell am I doing here, this is absolute insanity”. Even in that moment though I knew I was going to finish. There was nothing that could stop me from making it those last seven miles. I had heard people talk about it but it was only then that I truly understood the unbelievable capabilities of the mind over the body. I felt so sick earlier that morning that I probably would have thought it unthinkable to go to work yet here I was after a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike ride and 19 mile run , only 7 miles away from completing an Ironman. Nothing was going to stop me. I slowly pushed myself to keep going with tears of frustration forming in my eyes until I saw Natalie at mile 21. It was such a relief to see her in my time of need. She could see I was not doing well so she gave me some of her asthma spray and told me she was going to catch up with me and we would finish together. It was just the push I needed at that moment but I was stopped short as I felt whatever was left in my belly starting to come up. I went to the side of the road to throw up as some little boy starting running back to his mom to tell her that the lady was throwing up on the side of the road. A man running by stopped and pointed at me. My name was on my bib and he asked me, “Danielle, is this your first Ironman?” I nodded my head slowly and he replied, “Come with me Danielle, today you are going to be an Ironman” Tears formed as this nice man ran with me for the next two miles until I promised him I was okay and would finish the race. A few minutes later Natalie caught up with me, which was a huge relief. We ran together for the next few miles as she cheered me up and reminded me how amazing today was. About 100 yards from the finish I told her to go ahead because I knew we both needed this moment for ourselves. I had worked so hard and I wanted to soak up all of it. I ran in with the crowd screaming around me. I heard the announcer say, “Danielle Perkel, you are an IRONMAN” and the tears came pouring from my eyes. I was so filled with happiness, pain, pride and excitement. That moment was so much more then I could I have dreamed of. My face in the picture of me crossing that finish line is so horrible but I love it so much because you can see every emotion I truly felt. This race was me finding myself. I faced the guilt and sadness of losing my friend. I felt you out there Ames. I know you were with me. I saw your face at that finish line and I know you were proud. That moment was an accumulation of the past year and a half and everything I internally faced in your death. I hate that it took losing you to be who I was at that moment but I love you for giving me that moment. I did it Ames! Today and for the rest of my life I can call myself an Ironman.
