The Journey Is Just The Beginning

My journey to Ironman 140.6 was a two-year journey. It started in 2014 while training for Ironman Chattanooga, where I would DNF at 140 miles. That race is 144.6 (longer than a normal IM) and they take 30 minutes away from you right off the bat. I never give up, so I returned home to lick my wounds, and sign up for Ironman Maryland 2016. On October 1, 2016 I finished the race and became an Ironman. I talk about my race IM Maryland below, but what came after crossing that finish line was something I felt I needed to share.

What makes an Ironman? Well, I can tell you that one becomes an Ironman when they start their journey in training. Race day is when you put it all together, and you cross that coveted finish line to hear that simple phrase:

Meredith Rosser….. You. Are. An.  IRONMAN! 

Today, I realized over a cup of coffee, is that my journey to Ironman was not over, instead it’s only the beginning. To realize that my long time dream has come to pass, brings much emotion. But to also realize that whatever “it” is that I put my heart into next, I know without a shadow of a doubt that IT CAN BE DONE! The dream continues, as my accomplishment of crossing that finish line is truly just the beginning! So when someone says to me “I could never do…….” then I say to them:

YES YOU CAN!

This is jus the beginning.

To sum up my journey to Ironman in just a few simple words would be useless because the journey itself is no where near short. For me it has been a 2 year journey. The training that one puts time in for, endless miles, long hours, a lot of sacrifices is mind-boggling. I wanted this more than anything else and was willing to do whatever it took. My journey to Ironman began long before the start line of the race. October 1st was the day I would celebrate by putting it all together, at exactly 3:00 am when my alarm would go off.

The morning was cold, windy and very foggy. With my wetsuit on and lined up at the swim start at 6:30 am I was ready! I was excited about the swim, as I had perfected it and had my time down to a fine science, and being wetsuit legal I knew I would fly! 6:50 am we are told the swim was being cancelled as there was a small craft advisory. Looking out at the Choptank River and seeing the rough waters white capping I knew it was the right call. The waters looked very treacherous, but I will admit, I was devastated. (I even teared up sharing my thoughts with Hot Hubs)

The next stage was a time trial start. We were going to be called out by our race bib number and we had to be ready to go in 30 to 45 min. That was the longest wait of my life! I was shivering cold, the wind was blowing hard off the river, and it was a cloudy overcast morning. No sun to warm us up, only the clothes I packed in my bike changing bag. Luckily I packed arm warmers (who knew a FL chick would need these) but I would ultimately be cycling with a sleeveless triathlon top. Not much protection from the wind, rain, and the cold elements. Days leading up to the race it had rained on and off, therefore much of the race course had been flooded and was impassable. The course I rode on in a training camp, was now changed to allow us to ride. Mentally the elements, and the change of course was messing with my head. My time came, and off I went!

The first half of the bike leg was great! I think I grew wings and was flying! My average speed was 16 mph and change which was huge for me, and with the roads being slick from the rain and navigating around people, this was good, not to mention through the cold, windy elements. Staying hydrated and nibbling on food was key, but when you’re not “hot” you often forget to do this. Then, the second half of the first loop happened. HEAD WIND! I felt like I hit a brick wall, and the only thing to do is get down in aero position and grind through it! To add to this crazy wind,  came the rain. I was cruising into the “special needs” area where I can get my bag I had carefully packed with all the things I could possibly need, including dry socks, which obviously I would not need! Why change wet socks for dry ones when it was raining? Ha! I felt like crying. I was cold, shivering, my hands were virtually numb, there was no sun to warm my cold wet skin, I was feeling nauseous, and at this moment I had to decide if I was tough enough to keep going. I wanted so badly to finish what I had started but quite honestly at this point I wanted to be dry and warm again. Oh and I forgot on major detail in all of this. My “monthly friend” came to visit me the night before! For a woman, this is a huge hurdle to overcome when trying to race! In the end, I got what I needed, and gave the volunteer my bag. I had one more loop to do and knew I had to dig deep. The second loop seemed longer than the first, but coming into town, and passing my BFF Sherpa Cheryl Collison along with my boys, gave me a huge boost! What came next was absolutely unexpected! Bikers stayed to the right and runners were on the left, and there was a vast body of water, shin and calf deep! I managed to navigate through the cold waters, and make my way to rack my bike, and get my bag to prepare for the run.

With one of my fastest transitions yet, including the women’s changing tent, (that’s a whole other story) I was ready to tackle 26.2 miles. Still no sun, lots of cold wind, and my clothes are all wet, except my new socks and running shoes. Little did I know, I would be running through vast bodies of water that reached all the way up my calves and shins, not once, not twice, but 4 times! Oh, and then, between the bodies of water was a grassy trail turned thick muddy trail. I’m not talking a little dirt, I mean thick, shoe getting stuck in kind of mud! The run was 2 1/2 loops, so it was in and out of these conditions I went. The second loop was the hardest as I knew what was coming. Getting hydration, and food, gels, coke, ice, sponges, salt, etc at every run stop was crucial. I was cruising well and keeping an average pace the first loop but all seem to fall apart on the second loop and the 1/2 loop. My shoes felt like lead weights strapped to my feet, I was chaffing in areas I didn’t know I could chafe, and I was barely able to run. Walking seemed nearly impossible but I just kept moving forward. Some of the chalk drawings and choice of words along the way paved a way for a good chuckle, and the one guy sitting in a lounge chair, in the middle of the road IN the freezing cold water no less, shouting to all the athletes “Welcome to the swim!” gave us all a good laugh and encouragement. But it was passing Hot Hubs along the way, seeing Sherpa Cheryl, hearing my boys yelling at me to keep pushing on, never give up, keep moving forward, you got this, and reflecting on what Luke and Chris Clark do on a daily basis managing their diabetes is what fueled me. The words from a great friend “Suck it up buttercup” and this from another amazing athlete “IOTB” (I Own This Bitch) is what kept me going til the bitter end. I had to finish this. I had to do this for myself. Long ago I was told “You’re not an athlete, you’re not a runner.” None of this has ever been easy for me. I have had a lot to overcome. Plantars Fasciitis, a weak knee, asthma, and yes, my monthly friend to boot! I had to prove to myself and show my children that when you set out to accomplish something, you never give up. If you don’t succeed, you get back up and keep going until you do!

Running through the water and willing my legs to climb the small hill one more time was possible because I was ready to settle the score, and prove to everyone that ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE!

The time had come, it had been a long journey, and running down that hill never felt so good. I could hear the finish line crowd, I could see the bright lights, and the song that was playing was LMFAO’s “Party Rock Anthem” (how fitting for me). I ran with such emotion, I almost couldn’t run. My arms were going every which way, tears were streaming down my face, and the moment I had waited so long for had finally arrived. I ran into the arms of a volunteer as I heard the words called out over the sound system “Meredith Rosser…. YOU. ARE. AN. Ironman!”

Most amazing feeling ever! I cannot describe in words how it felt. To my utter excitement, after it all had sunk in, I ran some numbers. With my swim time from Chattanooga 2015, and doubling my transition times, added to Maryland 2016, I can say I finished the Ironman in just over 16 1/2 hours and change. WHAT????? This was the cherry on top for me. So some may ask or say  “Your swim was cancelled, your course was cut short, you’re really not an Ironman since you didn’t do it all in one day” to which I will reply you are wrong.

The journey to Ironman 140.6 did no take place on race day, but leading up to the race. I have done the distances, some twice and one (IM Choo in 2015) was even 4 miles LONGER & our times were cut by 30 min. So YES, I am owning this race and this victory and then some! After all, the conditions to which we raced were like no other. Who gets to race an Ironman, and say they pushed through all what we pushed through?!

Cold, wet, foggy, rainy, windy, muddy and deep waters of “swim” bike run. It was epic and the stories of this day will be told for years to come. I wear my hat, my shirts, and my medal with pride. I am an Ironman!

The Day I Stopped Believing Was The Day I Started Believing Again

I won’t lie, it has been a rough two years. With my son being diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes, and the roller coaster that followed I must admit I stopped believing in myself as an athlete. I was in the midst of training for my first Ironman that was to take place in Chattanooga in 2016 when our lives were turned upside down. But just like we preach to our boys, I had to pick myself up and keep moving forward. That fateful night, when I was pulled off the run course in my first full Ironman Triathlon, I mentally gave up. I never give up on anything in life nor did I ever give up that night but I lost a part of myself when the three little letters were next to my name on the athlete list. DNF.

I mourned my DNF for a couple of days, then immediately jumped back into the game and set out to settle the score. I signed up for another Ironman. This time I was going to race a different course. Ironman Maryland seemed like a more suitable course, as it is flat, flat and more flat. But the catch is swimming in the Choptank River, and fighting the big headwinds on the bike. My mind was made up and I felt it was destiny to race almost exactly one year later from my DNF in Chattanooga.

As soon as I got my confirmation that I was “in” I was pumped, but as time marched on, I started to doubt myself. This has been one of the hottest summers that I can remember. Living in Florida, and the intense heat paired with super high humidity, was not a good mix for training. It has been brutal to say the least. Fatigue set in early in the months of training, and self-doubt started to take over. Why was I doing this again? When did riding on a road bike for five and six hours become fun? And not to mention running in the intense humidity and heat! 3 am wake up calls to start long rides in the dark while it was cooler got real old really fast.

I missed my family. I missed hanging out with our friends. For the second summer in a row, my life revolved around training. I started to question was it really worth it? To add to this crazy mix, my two younger sons were also training for their big race at USAT Nationals in Ohio. So between taking them to swim team practice at 6 am each day, and shuffling them to their own triathlon training sessions with their coach, I was mess! I am wife and mom first and foremost so my boys lives took center stage ahead of mine.

Training has not been what I envisioned it would be. Finding balance has been tough.

My breaking point came during a training camp in Cambridge, Maryland, the day we were out riding on the bike course. It was brutally hot, more of a dry heat hot. My lips were chapped, I was sucking down water like I have never done before, and I was riding alone. There were others out on the course, but I was a lone dove with the exception of others passing. Much of an Ironman race is mental. I know this and can say I usually have a good handle on this end of things, but on this day, I was literally losing it. Riding along on a long flat road in the middle of nowhere and hearing shot-gun shots going off, having someone fly by you in a truck then chucking coins out at you from the window as they passed, fighting a brutal head wind and being all alone is not my idea of fun. I missed a turn and only realized this when I was almost back to where I started. My 112 mile bike ride was cut short by my mere mistake and I only biked 70 miles of the course.

There is no crying in Ironman, but I cried like there was no tomorrow. I felt as if I was at the threshold of hell. I felt like a failure. I kept thinking to myself, how am I supposed to finish this race when I hadn’t even started yet? It was an awful moment but a pivotal one.

In my moment of questioning it all, a couple of texts came through on my phone. Messages of hope, reminding me how to persevere through the dark place I found myself in. No truer words were spoken by my 14-year-old type one diabetic son. He made me a paper to keep next to my bed, so when I was doubting it all, I only had to look at this:

This boy knows what it’s like to be in a bad place. I feel like he must feel defeated often, living with diabetes, giving himself injections all day long while pricking his finger countless times. Luke does not let diabetes define him, so how can I quit before I have even started? Someone very wise told me this at that moment:

“Suck it up buttercup! You’ve got this. Your body has got this. Get your mind in line. It hurts, it is a gut check but you have this. I know you can, you know you can! Just do it.” 

Another great mantra that I will let you figure out, that another friend reminded me of:

“IOTB!”

This was the day I started believing again. I was hundreds of miles away from my kids, and friends but at this moment, they were there with me, sitting under a shady tree. Sometimes we only need to be reminded of the simple things. I had to go down this dark road to get to this spot where I am today.

I believe I can. I believe I am strong. I believe I am an overcomer.

I simply BELIEVE!

DNF: It Changed My Life

Did. Not. Finish.

Those are some powerful words, than no one really wants to hear. Days and days of setting the alarm clock to awaken me before the chickens even start to think about stirring. Countless hours of brutal training in the Florida heat and not to mention missing out on many family happenings. All of the blood, sweat and tears just to hear those words: “I’m sorry, but we have to take your timing chip from you.” Nothing can prepare you for this moment. The sadness is deep. The pain is real. My DNF was not the end, but only the beginning.

For months I had my sights set on racing the Ironman Chattanooga 140.6 Triathlon Race, the “Choo.” I decided to dedicate my race to my friend Linda, and had been fundraising for the Pulmonary Fibrosis Foundation for TEAM Linda the entire time.

The swim went off without a hitch. The water was crisp, and quite clear. I could not have been more pleased with my swim finish time, and had no real issues to speak of. It truly was a great swim!

The trek through T1 was swift as there were ample volunteers to guide you through the hustle and bustle. I was feeling fabulous and ready to conquer the 116 miles that lied ahead of me. Nothing, and I mean nothing could have prepared me for what was to come next. My nutrition was on the money during training so how was it that at mile 35, nausea reared its ugly head? After all I had 10 months of training for this epic day. My mantra was simple, just keep peddling and keep moving forward. All those fancy quotes I had memorized went out the window at this point. Nothing I took in, whether it was solid or liquid, was helping. That was truly the longest 116 miles of my life!

Cruising into T2 was a welcome sight. If I could just get off this darn bike, get some chicken broth to sip, I might be okay. Before I move on, I must pause and say how amazing the all of the volunteers were! Making my way through T2 and grabbing my special needs changing bag, I was met by an angel, aka a volunteer.  She walked me to the women’s changing tent then ordered me to sit, and proceeded to remove my clothes, shoes, socks, etc., from my bag. She laid everything out in an orderly fashion, and brought me some chicken broth to settle my stomach.  She then, literally, undressed me, and re-dressed me, race belt and all, and equipped me for my run. I seriously don’t know if I would have been capable of doing all that in such a quick manner. My clock was ticking so this was a huge help to me. She was my angel that day!

Now it was time to get down to business. 26.2 miles of running through the streets of Chattanooga, down by the river bed, then up though a very mountainous terrain awaited me. With the nausea at an all time high, I was ready with my new mantra. “I can do all things!”

The first loop of the run was difficult as the nausea was here to stay, but running along the riverbed with the sun setting was spectacular. The mountainous hills were no joke for the second half of the run course. Somehow I managed to make it back down the mountain and across the bridge where my family was waiting. I had been digging deep for 13 plus hours. My tank was running low, and the words from an Ironman official that was waiting for me at the gate on the second loop was “You need to go!” So GO I did! I was not giving up. Dry heaving, blisters, nausea, fatigue, you name it, I had it, but I was not giving up!

Little did I know that I was the very last athlete to be allowed to start the second loop. Running alone, with no one else around you, with only your thoughts to keep you company is quite humbling. At this point the volunteer stations were making strides to tear down. I was the last athlete to pass through their stations. No cheering crowds, no fun sites to take in, just me and the slightly lit roadways leading into the darkness. Keeping with my mantra and putting one foot in front of the other, I kept moving forward. My pace was slowing, I could feel it deep within as if I had a slow leak. I managed to make it to mile 22 when the dreaded golf cart was waiting just ahead. Before the Ironman official even said anything I knew what she was going to say.

” I’m sorry, but we have to take your timing chip from you.”

While I never shed any tears, a flood of emotions came over me at that moment.

I took a leap of faith many months back and I dared to dream.  What most people only dream about, I set out to accomplish. I never gave up. Not only did I push through pain, sweat, nausea, fatigue, and blisters, but most importantly I pushed past all the mental demons that tell you, you can’t do it. I pushed through all the fears I have ever had. I discovered many things about myself I didn’t know existed. I found out who I really am that day.

I am determined. I am strong. I am resilient. I am a warrior. I never give up. I am not broken. I am a survivor.

I am an OVERCOMER!

My Choo journey may have come to an abrupt end at that moment but I decided to not let this DNF define me. I made it through 140 miles which by all other standards is the true distance of an Ironman race. IM Choo was not only 4 miles longer on the bike but our swim time was cut short by 30 minutes right from the start. I have no reason to hang my head. The valuable lessons I learned that day that speak volumes to my kids is simply this.

Never give up! When you are faced with defeat, how you handle yourself in the midst of adversity is a testimony to everyone around you.

When you fall off a horse, you get right back on! So here’s to next years adventures in racing. I don’t have plans to tame the beast in Chattanooga, but to race Ironman Maryland 2016. I am going to finish what I started.

The Final Countdown

The final countdown has begun. I am a ball of nerves. One minute I’m bursting with excitement and the next minute I’m in my bed crying. The journey to an Ironman 140.6 is no joke! I keep hearing the voice of my coach saying, “If it were easy, everyone would be doing it.” It has been one long year of brutal training, but there have been two people who have kept me moving forward, with my sights on the finish line. While there are many people whom I find inspiration from, there are two that have played a major role in all of this. If it were not for these two amazing individuals, I might have given up long ago.

Meet Linda Baker.

She lives with a disease called Pulmonary Fibrosis, which there is no cure for. Pulmonary Fibrosis is a disease marked by scarring in the lungs. Tissue deep in the lungs becomes thick, stiff and scarred. The scarring is called fibrosis. As the lung tissue becomes scarred, it interferes with a person’s ability to breathe. Linda’s companion that goes everywhere with here is a portable oxygen tank. To simply breath, and live, she must be on oxygen at all times. If I was going to set out to do the race of my life, I felt I should not only have Linda as my race partner, but also raise money for the Pulmonary Fibrosis Foundation.  Thus TEAM Linda  was formed. Throughout my training and expanding my lungs along with my high level of activity, I truly believed Linda would find healing. I believed her symptoms would lessen and the disease would not progress but come to a stand still. Not only has Linda’s disease stopped progressing but she has lost 30 plus pounds and is a candidate for a complete lung transplant!

Let me now introduce you to my 13-year-old son Luke, who was recently diagnosed with Juvenile Type 1 Diabetes.

He inspires me everyday. He is an amazing triathlete and elite swimmer who has beaten many odds this year, since the T1D diagnosis. There have been many times where I doubted my abilities to keep moving forward, but then I am reminded of what it means to persevere, via my son. He said he was not going to let his diagnosis stop him from achieving his dreams and goals. He reminds me all the time that we should never allow ourselves to be defined by our circumstances, but to push beyond them and keep moving forward. He is wise beyond his years. Luke went from the PICU unit of a three-day hospital stay to making the podium at all of his triathlon races and taking 8th in the nation at USAT Youth Nationals Championship Triathlon in Ohio. He inspires me to be a better person and better athlete. Seeing him balance life with Type 1 Diabetes and still race like there is no tomorrow, absolutely inspires me!

In just 11 days, I will be embarking on an adventure I never thought I would sign up to do, willingly I might add. I will fight to the end to finish strong as both Linda and Luke show this kind of determination on a daily basis.

My one request and reason for this blog entry is simply this.

Live!

Live your life today like there is no tomorrow. Push aside your fears of failure and do hard things!

When someone says you “can’t” do something, than set out to prove them wrong and say “watch me”!

Life is too short to live with the thoughts “I wish… I should have….”