The Great Ass Blow

As requested, let me address The Great Ass Explosion of 2004.

First, let me tell you a little something about Mister Dave Scott.  Dude is really funny.  The more I get to know him, the more I like him.  I was at Flatirons Gym amid the Boulder snow.  Snow means treadmill running for the locals.  I was on the tread when DS approached me.

I apologize in advance....and I assure I am not "name dropping".  If you read my blog consistently you'll notice I just talk about what's going on in my world, and many times no one has any idea who I am talking about.  Unfortunately when you live in BOULDER COLORADO, it is really difficult to have any life detail without it involving one of the talented assholes who lives here.  :)   It is not lost on me that I am fortunate enough to get to go to movies and dinners and swim workouts with World and Ironman Champions.  I also couldn't give a rat's ass about any of that - I care about people as people.  And if someone is a cool person, regardless of "stats", they'll draw me in.  Hence, the Dave story.

DS:  How are you, Carole?    

I'm huffing as I speak at my 10:00 pace.

Me:  I'm hanging in.  You're looking good, dude.  And thank God 'cause normally you look like SHIT.

DS laughs.

DS:  I'm glad I am meeting your standard.  Can I run with you?  

Me:  Jump on, amigo.  This is the only way I can keep up with you.  (I.E., treadmill)

He gets on the treadmill in front of me even though next to me is open.  I yell up to him.

Me:  Do I smell??

He yells over his shoulder.

DS:  No, I want to give you something good to look at!

I Laugh.

As we both ran on the tread, Dave would often wave at us in the mirror in front.  I would laugh.  

Sorry this isn't the best photo -- but I WAS RUNNING!! .... here is Dave in front of me.

Me:  I'm on your heels, bitch!!...  (I screamed to him in front of me)

DS:  I feel it!

Me:  Do you feel the heat?

DS:  Oh yeah!

Me:  It might be gas!

DS laughs and almost trips on the tread. 

I give it 2 months.  Dave Scott and I will be having an affair.  You heard it here first. (kidding)

The above "Gas joke" seemed like the perfect lead in to my IMWI story as mentioned in my random things.

So.............................. The Great Ass Blow Of 2004.  Oh man.

 I'll try to keep this to the main points.

I was never really sure what caused it.  As anyone who has done a few Irondistances can attest, sometimes stuff happens that you can't explain.  Most things you can, but once in a while something out of left field hits you and you're like, "whoa".   My coach used to call this the "Ironman Gremlins".

I don't think I did anything out of the norm with nutrition that day.....I analyzed it over and over after the race.  People always get sick in Ironman events, so the fact that folks were reporting  "more than in any IM race" didn't sway me.  At EVERY Ironman people say it had the most DNF's, most walkers, whatever.   However - one fact DID jump out to me.   It seemed that most everyone was getting sick about 6 hours into the event.  That detail was consistent with my experience.

The ONLY conclusion I could come to was that there must have been some sort of bacteria or something in Lake Mendota on that particular day.  While I know with certainty I swallowed duck poop at some point (yeeeeeeessss - GROSS!)

... to think that hundreds of people also swallowed duck poop would be absurd.   There must have been something in that Lake ....... but then again, hundreds of other folks were also totally fine.   That's Ironman for ya.

I got off the bike in 3rd overall.  I was just a bit ahead of Nicole DeBoom (who went on to claim her first Ironman title! Awesome!), and 2 minutes behind Andrea Fisher, the leader.  

Within 40 yards of starting the run .... EXPLOSION!

I felt that sort of 'rumbling' in my stomach.... you know that rumbling I mean.    Having never had any sort of diarrhea before in a race, I told myself it was just a 'bubble'.   Well.  My friend in Atlanta, Trey Prophater, once famously said, "Never trust a fart!"    Indeed.

Pushing out what I thought was a bubble...........watered down poop began pouring out of me as if someone had turned on a water hose.  I'd never experienced anything like it.   This was the beginning of the run.....crowds were lining the streets...... and there I was, still jogging, clutching my stomach that was now being pinched with knives, with brown, stinky stuff shooting out of me.  I was racing only in a swimsuit so everything happening as easy to see.  People in the crowds were gasping!  There was laughter.  I heard people yelling to others to look at me.   I heard people utterly grossed out.  I hid my race number so hopefully no one would be able to identify me as 'Carole Sharpless'.

Not much embarrasses me - but I was humiliated.  What could I do but keep going ????

As poop continued to pour out of me, I went another 100 yards before I began to walk.  The intestine pain was intense, but I figured I just needed a few minutes to shit it out, pull myself together and I'd be okay.  The marathon is long and I still had plenty of time to get back in the game.   Within minutes Nicole ran by me..........and shortly thereafter I fell to the ground.  In that moment I couldn't even walk - my stomach felt like my intestines were unraveling.  Medics came rushing to my side......liquid poop still coming out of me (lovely).  

The medics kept trying to help me, they were telling me to pull out of the race.  I kept yelling, "Don't touch me.  Please don't touch me!  If you help me I am out of the race!!!"    Any outside support you get and you're done.  3 medics were sitting right by me as I sobbed....and pooped.  I kept apologizing, "I am so sorry - this is so disgusting!"  But the medics were unfazed and told me they deal with 'shit all the time'.  They made me laugh, which I appreciated.  10 minutes later I got myself standing.... poo still coming out ..... crowds had definitely formed near me and I heard everything they had been saying.   If I wasn't in so much pain I would have been too embarrassed to continue.   I started to walk.... and people cheered.   (God!)

Out of the crowd I heard, "You GO Poop Girl!"    Are you kidding me?  I almost died.  

I walked... and walked.....and walked.   Pro women went by me, a few asking if I was okay. Going through aid stations was always a treat - the volunteers were always grossed out.  Many people would laugh at me.  

 3+ hours later I was still walking.   The liquid poo that had been pouring out had now started to become clumpy.... and now the SOUNDS were almost worse than the stink itself.   For the next 3 hours I continued to make the loudest BOOM fart noises I had ever heard come out of my body in my life.  People were all around me, either athletes going by or spectators on the sidelines.  Couldn't do anything about it.  I can't begin to tell you how much I SMELLED - old poop that had been baking in the sun on my outfit mixed with the new stuff that still came out of me.   I was something to behold!

I was damned determine to finish.  One thing about me - I finish what I start.  And most especially in Ironman, I give respect to the day!  I finish.  Period.   

In the final 40 minutes of that shit show, all puns intended, my ass had finally stopped releasing.  By this point my body was in so much ache and lingering weakness from the constant load, shoot out, reload of my colon that I worried it would be sore forever.  I had no energy to even jog, so I walked it in.

I finished.   

My Bike Split was 5:31.  

My run split was 6:37.   

Gotta love when your RUN is an hour longer than your bike!!

I would continue to come across race reports from others....not everyone knew who I was (THANK GOD -- poor Bree will never live down starting her period during Ironman Cozumel), but tons of folks were talking about that girl who had shit shooting out of her butt and how disgusting I was....

Never had anything like that happen again ........... but I think once was plenty!  :)

Happy racing, kids!