It's taken me a bit longer than I wanted to write about my St. George experience.  I needed a bit of time to wrap my head around all of it. 

First off, St. George is an amazing place.  The red rocks emit a magnetic beauty and intensity that you can only understand if you are within their presence.  Truly.  The energy is something else, and I think it is the most amazing place to hold a race such as this.  I will definitely be back - definitely.

Beyond this, the course is also amazing.  Very, very, very difficult.  Yes - but who amongst you is afraid of a little challenge?  That's what I thought.  The volunteers at the race were absolutely impeccable, and there was this incredibly positive vibe pervading the entire race experience.  I was also lucky to have stayed with an AMAZING homestay family.  4 kids that were so cute you could hardly believe it.  And Sam and Misha  were just some of the most positive people I have ever met.  Sam was doing his very first IM and he was so excited to learn as much as he could about the day.  Yet, he also remained remarkably relaxed.  It was an honor to spend a week with such great people.  I hope to stay with them again next year when I go to this race.  TIMEX was there, and it was also great to see Tristan and Doug and some fellow athletes racing.  I met the BLAZEMAN's parents who were doing promotional work for ALS at the Expo, and that was also an honor.  They gave me a bracelet to wear and I had a promo sticker for their cause on my helmet.  I only with I could have had the opportunity to finish the race - so that I could do the roll.  Next time - you can be sure I will.

So...I guess that leads me to what happened out there and why my splits failed to continue to show throughout the race for the second time (and my second race attempt!) this season. Here's the story.  I wish it was a different story, but it just simply is what it is...

The swim was cold.  It really was.  But for the first time in my life I was entering the swim with a degree of confidence.  Still not coming out of the water in the top pack, definitely not there yet, but mid pack was very realistic.  After a month of workouts that were showing continual improvement with the swim (more than I have ever seen in the last two years of learning to swim) I knew I had it in me to have my best ever swim.  The water was cold though, and I found myself a little afraid of it once we got going.  After about 20 minutes in the water, I couldn't feel my hands, and was noticing that my breathing was not controlled or smooth, as I struggled to keep any heat in.  I just felt like I was in a strange environment, and was very aware of the danger of the cold and how it was affecting me.  I found myself in a small pack of women.  I felt the pace was too slow  and many times I was barely swimming (moving my arms) within the pack, but I will be honest in that the water temperature just made me want to be around others.  I sensed the danger in the situation, and due to my lack of swimming (race) experience, I was honestly just glad to be on feet.  But I learned from this, and I won't be using that tactic again.  If I can swim harder...then I have to just go. 

Anyways, it's nothing new to me to come out of the water with a big deficit.  It's always been the case.  So, I truly wasn't worried when I came out of the water far behind the leaders.  Land.  Here is where I do my thing.   So, after taking a bit of extra time in transition to dress appropriately, I was pumped to hop on my bike.  Or at least that's what I thought.

Immediately, there was a strong rattling in the rear of the bike.  I rode for about a mile when the whole bike seized.  I hopped off.  I looked at the wheels, the brakes.  I was desperately trying to figure out what was rattling.  HOW COULD IT BE RATTLING?  HOW COULD IT BE SEIZING?  WHAT WAS WRONG?? After two days of getting this beautiful new Orbea Ordu fit and mechanically sound, test rides all week, another last minute mechanic check before putting the bike into transition the day before the race....it was perfect.  How was this happening?  Well.  It was happening.  I found myself saying out loud, "Again....I cannot believe this is happening AGAIN."  But it was.  So, I did what I could.  I continued to fuel.  I was in contact with a motorcycle driver who truly was trying so hard to help me as I begged for tech support.  But there wasn't any tech support at the front of the race. 

At about 40 minutes in, I was acutely aware that I was losing more time.  I couldn't ride properly.  My bike kept lurching, stopping, seizing, then rattling on.  But I was able to still keep the pedals moving - although it felt so difficult to do so, so I just prayed that tech support would catch up to me.  Finally, I figured out what was wrong.  I realized that my cassette on my rear wheel was hanging there.  It was completely loose.  Completely.  The chain was struggling to move on this, and my shifting was completely out of whack.  I felt like I was barely moving...and I wasn't.  I was losing minutes and minutes and there was nothing I could do.

I went through the first bike split already 9 minutes (from the bike alone) behind the leaders.  Things were looking really, really bad.  Finally at 25 miles, my bike seized completely and I couldn't go an inch further.  I stood by the side of the road completely numb.  Some wonderful ladies doing race support  tried to help me, gave me a cell phone so I could call Scott to see what he wanted me to do - which was to call it a day, get home, and start preparing for the next race.    I stood by the side of the road for 45 minutes before getting a ride back to get my things from a police officer.  I never did see tech support.  I don't blame anyone for that.  It just was what it was.  2,500 people in the race....and that was just the way of it .  It wasn't for a lack of trying on anyone's part.  It was just really unfortunate, bad, flukishly, and flabbergastingly bad luck.  That's all.

After the bike 'autopsy' it turns out that the cassette was stripped (the lock nut) so when the cassette was tightened, although it seemed tight, it wasn't.  Impossible to know otherwise.  It slowly came loose over my week of training prior to the race.  Had I ridden one more ride on it, I would have known that it was loose.  But for some reason....for SOME reason....this was supposed to happen.  I don't understand why now....but I think one day I will.

As an athlete, you roll the dice.  Your job is a constant gamble with no guarantees.  It may seem as though I am having more bad luck than most (sometimes seems that way) but the more pro athletes I talk to, the more I realize I am far from alone.  Take Heather Wurtele for the prime example.  Heather had a spectacular day out there on Saturday, and I can't think of anyone who deserves it more.  But she's been bombarded by 'terrible luck' in her career and after so many DNFs and disappointments....she finally had a day that came together for her where she was finally able to really show her stuff.  And that she did.   She had wonderful words of encouragement for me after the race.  She understands.  And I am so happy for her for her result.  Awesome, Heather.  You really do deserve it.  Enjoy this one!

The thing about rolling dice though, is that eventually you will roll what it is your looking for.   Sometimes you roll the magic numbers on the first try, sometimes it takes time.  Although I am no mathemetician (just barely skimmed by Calculus and Statistics in university!!!) I do know that this all comes down to probability and statistics.  

All pro athletes struggle. They struggle at different times, and in different ways.  It's the part of the job that the media doesn't talk about.  When you're on top, the media talks alot about it - and that's what people hear.  What they don't hear about are the tough times.  The quiet and painful times where you are faced with either folding or continuing on.  The ones who make it are the ones who continue on.  Period. I believe in that 100%.  Chris McCormack used to jump out of hotel windows because he couldn't afford to pay the bill.  He nearly folded after going for Kona 6 times....before finally doing the deed.  It's JUST the way it is.  Like Scott says, there is no such thing as 'luck.'  It's just life.  It is what it is.  What's important is learning from our experiences.  That's all that counts.  So, that's what I will continue to do, until I get my shot to do what it is I am ready to do.  One day at a time.  Patience....apparently I will learn it if it kills me.

So, like I always say....onwards and upwards.  IM Coeur d'Alene is next on the list for big races (boy the racing schedule has changed a lot already this year!!!) They say bad things happen in threes.  Well.....in the last year of going full-time as a pro, I've had the three most feared things (for athletes) to happen.  Injury (tendonitis in the fall), illness (sick in China), and mechanicals (St. George cassette.)  I think we're done now.  I"m ready to go out and nail one.  I really am. 

Thanks, everyone, for the incredible support!  Coeur d'Alene - here I come.