Louisville to Nashville isn’t that far by car, but, as I shifted around in my seat to subdue the pain in my ass and hamstrings, it occurred to me that I nearly covered that 177 mile hike on human power alone just a day before. It’s quite a testament to the capability of the body, mind, and spirit.
One hundred and forty point six miles in the hot Louisville sun. It was both excruciating and lathered in bliss.
It was great to be surrounded by family and friends while I loosened up to jump in the imposing Ohio River. I have scanned those waters for years by bridge and shore, now I was about to be smothered by its aura.
The bike ride through horse country waited as a mystery. I knew it would be tough, but wasn’t quite prepared for the reality of another 112 mile ride.
And the marathon sat waiting as hot concrete in downtown Louisville. The final test of grit and strength.
In the final days before an Ironman, you rest. You hope to infuse recovery into the muscles you have uncerimoneously shredded for months. A nervous energy builds as you somehow try to prepare your body and mind for what they are about to face.
Even moments before the swim, I was not fully aware of the implications. It was almost surreal. Circling my arms in a swim skin, watching as one by one, people jumped from piers to innagurate their day of pain.
I felt good. I was relaxed. A truly remarkable transformation in two years. Over the next 12 hours and forty two minutes I would go through heaven and hell.
Race report coming soon.