Feel the fear and do it anyway

It is almost 6am on Saturday, November 7^th 2015. I am standing there with my good friend and training partner Jessica watching the waves crashing on the white sand beaches of the Boardwalk Beach Resort. Looking out at the water observing the tide as the ocean swells and then releases as if I am watching the belly of a sleeping baby. I am counting the buoys on the horizon and thinking about the long day ahead of me. I have been focused on this day for the last year and it is finally here. Everyone is watching. Am I going to be strong enough? Am I tough enough? I was scared. I wasn’t afraid for my life. I was afraid of failure.

I hear my friend Adam’s voice “Layniac!” and I forget what I am doing for a moment. He hugs me. We have been training together for the last couple of months and he is beyond excited to attack this challenge. To compare him to a kid on Christmas would actually be an understatement. This man is READY. I take a deep breath and look around. To date, my best friend Kate Hercules has been there for every endurance event I have ever committed to. I start to get nervous that I wouldn’t see her before the race. She is coming from the hotel with my Dad, and my best buddy Sam. Day in and day out Sam has been there holding me accountable. He has seen me come completely unglued during this grueling training and always knows what to say to shake me back to reality and believe in myself. The beach is crowded and buzzing with nervous energy. Finally, a miracle, through the crowd the big guy spies our friends. I get choked up and hug all three of them and it brings me peace for a moment. We snap some photos and then it’s time for us to seed ourselves in the chute.

Here it is again. Fear. I am standing all alone (with 2,800 complete strangers) now. We put our hands over our hearts to honor the United States Flag by singing our nation’s anthem. The announcer hums on about some other things in an attempt to motivate the racers but I am not listening. The countdown starts and then the bull horn. It’s time. My heart drops and everything goes quiet. Some people ran into the water, but I walked. Taking in my surroundings, trying to find a path through the chaos. I am surrounded by thousands of other racers and I try not to let the waves knock me over. What the hell am I doing? My head says “abort!” but my heart says “feel the fear and do it anyway!”

One week prior I was at Sunday dinner, a new tradition started by my dear friend Danielle. This dinner was extra special because not only did the Royals clench the World Series that night but we also honored her son’s very successful soccer career and toasted his girlfriend’s 18^th birthday and they surprised me with flowers and well wishes for my upcoming Ironman. I read the cards and handwritten notes and cried. I was overwhelmed with emotion. I am a reflection of the people with whom I surround myself. When I met Danielle in 2006 her son was an energetic 8 year old. Danielle and I were drawn to each other and I invested in her son’s development. Not only in soccer but in life. She affectionately refers to me as Nate’s “life coach” – she once told me that she wanted him to grow up to be not only physically tough but also mentally tough and she wanted me to guide him in that quest. I committed to leading him with gentle nudges and encouragement. Now, as a high school senior I sit there on Sunday observing him interacting with his family which has grown to add two beautiful little sisters. (One of which I am honored to call my God Daughter.) The oldest, 3 year old Madeline, was scared by a Halloween prank and Nate swooped her up to calm her down. He sat her on the counter and made her repeat “I am the toughest girl in the world!” until she believed it and it warmed my heart. I smiled in confidence knowing he will pay it forward and gently guide his sisters to be tough like their big brother.

As I start swimming, it is crowded and people are literally swimming over the top of me. I get elbowed in the face, kicked in the ribs and scratched. The triathlon community is often praised for how supportive everyone is. In general, triathletes embrace other triathletes with open arms and they completely commit to building up their community. Until you get in open water and then everyone turns into savages. As if the waves, salt water and marine life wasn’t enough, add in an underwater MMA fight. The struggle was real. But I flash back to the week prior and I find myself repeating after Nate. “I am the toughest girl in the world…I am the toughest girl in the world….” Next thing you know, 1 hour and 35 minutes later my feet are back on land and I am out of the water. Tougher than when I last touched the beach.

Excited I run up to transition to get ready for my bike ride. Dad is there and snaps photos and smiles with pride. “HAJO” he yells! “HAJO!” I laughed out loud. It is an inside joke from my childhood which means “Haul ass and jump on!” Kate and Sam volunteered at the race. They were in charge of applying sunscreen to athletes as they left the transition tent before getting on their bikes. An important task to say the least, but certainly not a glamorous one. I personally appreciated it as I got to chat with my best friend briefly making sure that my face wasn’t welted from the jelly fish who swam into my chin. Yes, you read that right. 2 miles into the swim a jelly fish stings me right on the chin. It basically felt like a live wire electrocuted me. It hurt, but Kate assured me there was no mark. On I went.

With any triathlon, the bike is what I worry about the most. I know my body, I know I have the strength and will power to finish the race. But does my bike? When it comes to biking, there is so much that is out of your control that can end your race. Your chain could break, you could get a flat tire, you could wreck. There was even a man on this race whose pedal fell off mid-ride. All of those are game changers and could take you out of the race. That stresses me out. I hop on Carlos (<--my bike) and remind him how important this is to me and we get started on the 112 mile journey.

As you might imagine, riding your bike on the quiet country roads lets your mind wander. Mine starts wandering to my Grandma. Born on November 7^th, 1934 she would have been celebrating her 81^st birthday on race day. Grandma passed last year shortly after her 80^th birthday. On her death bed I talked with her and held her hand. I told her about my plans to compete in the Ironman race in 2015 on her birthday and she was excited and expressed how proud she was of me and my outrageous aspirations. I knew Grandma was watching down on me. Watching me follow through on my goals. At mile 70 the clouds opened up and it started pouring. I laughed to myself “You couldn’t make this easy, could you Grandma…” and I pictured her laughing “Just giving you something to talk about.” It only lasted 30 minutes and then it cleared up as we rode in the opposite direction of the clouds.

The Ironman race gives you “special needs” bags for the bike and the run. These bags are at the halfway point of each leg. Most people fill their bags with extra nutrition, maybe some sunscreen or icy hot and then there are others who stash motivational notes in there. At my halfway point on the bike I stocked up on cliff bars and a piece of gum and applied fresh Tiger Balm patches to my hips. I also had encouraging notes from my friend Jessica who was there racing, and a card from my hero, Timmy. When I decided to commit to Ironman I wanted to do it for a charity. I chose the Children’s Tumor Foundation (CTF) and was given a hero to raise money for; Timmy was diagnosed with Neurofibromatosis (NF) when he was just a few weeks old. NF causes tumors to grow on nerves throughout the body and can lead to blindness, bone abnormalities, cancer, deafness, and excruciating and disabling pain. The Children’s Tumor Foundation funds critical research to find treatments for NF. Timmy’s life has not been an easy one, but his smile is so bright and he stays positive given all that he has been through. He has already benefited greatly from the work done by CTF - but he needs so much more. With the help of my amazing friends and family I was able to raise over $5,000 for CTF and Team Timmy. In my special needs bag was a handmade card with a picture of Timmy and a beaded bracelet with “Go Layne!” spelled out. I wore it the rest of the race with pride. Reminding myself that I should be grateful that I am capable of even attempting to compete in Ironman because there are some people out there who have the will, but literally lack the power.  

As I approach the transition area I start to feel gitty. I made it off the bike!!! I hear my Dad and Jessica’s mom Angela (aka “Mang” [Mamma Ang]) cheering my name. My friends Sam and Kate are so excited to see me off my bike; they are cheering loud because they know I was stressed about it. Sam yells “We’re doing it!!!!” And I laugh. Sam is all too familiar with my Rob Bailey obsession and one of my new favorite songs of his titled "We're doing it!" He knows this will make me smile. I perk up. “Yeah, We’re doing it!!!”

I run into the transition tent and change into my run gear. I decide to take my time during this transition, telling myself the difference between a 10 minute transition time and a 15 minute transition time is nothing in the big picture so I sit and eat my peanut butter and honey sandwich in the air conditioning. I pull out my last motivational note from Jess and a photo copy of my cards the Knoll’s gave me the week before. Nate signs off #winshit on his note – something I have been telling him since he was 8. Finishing this race is winning so it’s time to get moving on this marathon. 26.2 miles along the coast of Panama City.

The run was a 2 loop out and back, which was nice because not only did I get to see my friends and family at the halfway point but I got to see my friends who were racing with me 3 times on the course. Along with all the other racers. Triathletes really are a thing of beauty. There is no body type to define a triathlete. People of all walks of life are out there competing. There was a blind man (YES! BLIND!) out there racing. There was a man with one arm, a man with a prosthetic leg, a man in a wheel chair…even a pregnant woman. There was one woman pushing her mother in a wheel chair. Overweight men and women, super lean men and women with 8 pack abs and 0% body fat. Tall. Short. Some didn’t speak English. As I was approaching the turnaround on my last loop I jogged by a man who says in broken English “’scuse me, speak Spanish?” I shake my head “No, sorry.” As I start to jog off he yells to me again. “scuse me, how many times?” and makes a hand gesture toward the finish. I realize he is trying to ask how many miles we have left. Quickly I count to 8 in Spanish in my head and shout “Ocho!” he nods and smiles and I take off. I smile thinking about how this race has brought so many people from all over the world together. All of us committed and determined to hear those words “You are an ironman.”

As I am on the run I am reminded that everyone has a story. Everyone has some barrier that has the potential to hold them back, but they aren’t letting it. They are on that course for a reason. It was inspiring. I was able to talk to a lot of other athletes on the run and even when I was running alone I was eaves dropping on other people’s conversations in awe of the company I was keeping that evening. There was a man who had done 120 Ironman races. This was his wife’s 90^th Ironman. There was a guy who had the Ironman logo shaved in the side of his head. This was his 5^th Ironman this year and was going to do another Ironman 7 days later! There was a guy I ran with for the first 8 miles who literally learned how to swim this year. He was from Miami and was afraid of the water his whole life. He decided to overcome that fear by learning to swim and compete in Ironman (<-- #winshit).

The run course went through a neighborhood along the coast. The residents were amazing! It was hot and humid and several home owners positioned their hoses and sprinklers to spray the road. A refreshing mist! They had music blaring and some had TVs out on the lawn with a white board that had score updates of all the college football games that we were missing. Most of them were pretty intoxicated by my second loop so there was some dancing going on. One, very energetic (and slightly desperate?) lady even had a whip and she liked to chase down the boys and slap their behinds inviting them to come back after they finished the race. That was a first for me.

I ran the first 13.1 miles under the Florida sun, it wasn’t an unbearable heat – just really humid. In order to stay cool I would get two cups of water at every aid station, one I would dump on my head, the other I would drink. Luckily, in my special needs bag I had a dry pair of socks so I stopped halfway and swapped them out and chatted with Kate and Sam. Kate asked how I was feeling and while I felt good. I told her I was bored. There was so much to see and experience on the run course that I wanted to share it with my friends! Funny chalk markings on the street. Posters. The neighborhood party! I only wished I could take them with me!

Sam and Kate also had a volunteer shift at the finish line catching athletes. Not surprising when you spend a day conquering 140.6 miles your legs are a little wobbly so some athletes literally need to be held up. Others were simply delusional and needed to be walked through the chaos to get their finisher shirts, hat and most importantly that coveted finisher medal. The last 6 miles I was so excited to get that finish line and see my friends and my Dad. I thought to myself “We’re doing it!!”

The last mile was a blurry dream; I had the biggest smile plastered on my face. I was almost done!! 14 hours later I am on the homestretch. People are lining the streets high fiving you. The bibs had our name on it so people would yell my name and cheer me on as if we had been friends for years. I hit the finisher chute and became weightless I just flew down the Ironman carpet. The sun was long gone by the time I finished so they had huge lights set up that were blinding. I could see the finish line and I could hear Kate screaming and then there it is. The announcer “Layney Anonsen from Independence Missouri; You are an Ironman!” (Sam captured the magic here!)

HOLY SHIT. I did it.

Kate hugs me hard. Sam puts his arm around me and cheers. He drove the 14 hours with me to Panama so he knew how nervous I was. He witnessed all the emotion leading up to the race first hand and was as excited as I was to hear those four words. You. Are. An. Ironman. They guide me through the finisher’s process and lead me to my Dad. That is where the emotion set in. “I am so proud of you” he says as he squeezed me tight. I tear up. Holy Shit. I just did an Ironman.  The big guy yells and gives me a bear hug. We worked so hard for this. Looking back over the last several months when he would make me get up at 5am for a 6 hour bike ride. Adam always planned our route and I would just stay on his six. We would meet friends at Smithville Lake after work and do open water swims in the bitter cold waters in October. Hot Monday runs he would carry the water and wait for me at the top of hills to make sure I stayed hydrated. All for this. Ironman. We did it.

To put an exclamation on the race, Sam surprises me with tequila shots. Patron Silver just the way I like it - no training wheels. Kate tries to tough it out but can’t stomach it. The perfect end to a long day. We start walking to get my bike and all my gear and find Jess on a curb downing a piece of pizza. This is funny because Jess is very disciplined in the art of “Eat to Perform” and pizza IS NOT in her diet. I laughed when she told me it was her 4^th piece. “I am just so hungry” she says.

We gather all my stuff and hike back to the car as I start filling everyone in on the crazy run course and all the funny stories as we head back to our hotel. I couldn’t wait to get in the shower. Words cannot explain the sweat, water, salt, sunscreen build-up that has taken over my skin. As I am showering a fog comes over me and I literally almost pass out. I wrap things up and stumble out into the room straight to our food table where I snag a bag of chips. I look at Sam “I am going to pass out if I don’t eat something…” and I meant it. I lay down on the bed, and just smiled, shoving pretzel sticks in my mouth one at a time. Kate pops a bottle of champagne and we order Dominos and I pass out. An Ironman.

The next morning we woke up early to go get our finisher jackets and as I stand in line looking around at all the athletes sporting their finisher shirts from the race I am just happy. There was an older lady in front of us telling another athlete that this was her second year at Ironman Florida. Last year she raced but she didn’t finish, “DNF” she says. But that didn’t hold her back from trying again. I stood there thinking about how cool it is that her success story isn’t that she finished the race, it’s that she had the courage to try again. If you believe in yourself and have the dedication and pride and never quit, you will be a winner.

Over the last 12 months I have learned a lot. I learned that you need to be true to yourself. Don’t judge your successes based on what everyone else is doing. Everyone has a story, use their stories to motivate you to be better. Don’t use those stories as a measuring stick. The only person you should be comparing yourself to is the person you were yesterday. Be better than her. And most importantly, it is okay to be scared, just don’t run away from it.

Feel the fear and do it anyway.

Be strong. Be proud.

I stand by my motto - Be Strong in Mind, Muscle and Heart - so much so, I have affectionately named my blogspot after it.  My goal is to practice this motto in every aspect of my life. At work, at play, in the gym, and everywhere in between. To me, it means, you have to stand up and be tough enough to be you without caring about whether the world will agree, it means to push yourself outside of your comfort zone and do the things you don't want to do because those are the things that will make you stronger and you must step up and do all of it without becoming numb to challenge.


Social media has pigeonholed us into this world where we try to make everyone else think our lives are so grand because, naturally, we only post the highlights of our lives and ignore the in-between daily struggles. It creates this ugly cycle where we compare ourselves to other’s highpoints and we beat down our own successes because they don’t seem as grand.


Stop that.


Stop comparing yourself to others.


Everyone struggles. Everyone has insecurities. Nobody is perfect.


Read that last line again.


Take Dana Linn Bailey for example. This is a world-renowned fitness model; Ms. Physique Olympia! I was introduced to her story via social media because I became addicted to her husband’s music. My go-to Power Lifting playlist consists of all the tracks by Rob Baily and the Hustle Standard. Following Rob Bailey, led to following Dana Linn Bailey…and there you have it. Like most fitness models she owns her physique and is proud of her accomplishments so there are a lot of pictures of her flexing her flawless 6-pack abs.


Recently, she posted a blog that caught me totally off-guard. This girl, Ms. Physique Olympia, has insecurities too! But she owns them. In this blog, she admits that she puts herself out there on social media so she needs to be ready to accept the good and the bad comments. She understands that not everyone appreciates what she has accomplished. They call her manly, some call her gross, they try and beat her down but she has learned to overcome the negativity and be proud of who she is, “Once you have that confidence, nobody can take that away from you, unless you let them.”


She is strong in mind through her commitment to the strict lifestyle, she is strong in muscle pushing to new milestones in the gym and on stage year-after-year. But most importantly, she is strong in heart, allowing herself to feel emotionally connected to the sport and all of her accomplishments. She is grounded in where she has been and where she is now, and recognizes that nobody is perfect. Ms. Physique Olympia says it herself – there is no perfect human body.


Everyone struggles. Everyone has insecurities. Nobody is perfect.
Another example I want to share is with my dear friend Nathan Ross Jones aka “Bones Jones” who is a sweet 16 year old badass who is another great example of this motto at play.  Go back to high school, do you remember how difficult it was to be accepted as an individual in high school? Nate lives his life going against the grain, he rocks a bow tie and sits with kids who sit alone in the lunch room because he doesn’t want people to feel left out. He has been playing varsity soccer since he was a freshman, getting stronger and faster, always a leader on the field. He shows people respect and makes them feel good about who they are, but some try to bring him down for it.


This year, a loud underclassman came up to him on the first day of school and in a lame attempt to embarrass him said “Hey, my friends want to know if you’re gay!” and without skipping a bit, Nate patted him on the shoulder and said “You and half the school pal” and just kept walking. He didn’t let that guy bait him, he left the guy standing there feeling like a fool. Later Nate laughed about it, telling his mom “…and so what if I was? That kid is going to have a rough 4 years if that is how he is going to act in high school.”


Nate is strong in mind by remaining grounded in accepting that everyone has their own struggles; he is strong in muscle by pushing himself through boundaries to constantly improve his skill on the field in an attempt to stand out as a scholarship-worthy athlete and he is strong in heart through his compassion for people and his willingness to love everyone for their uniqueness.


I recently shared a music video of Taylor Swift’s new song Shake it off – the lesson is the same. If you watch the music video it shows a variety of different stereotypes and dance styles. Taylor is featured in all of them, trying to fit-in; she is trying to twerk, trying to do ballet, street battling, cheerleading... and she just looks silly. Finally, at the end of the video, she is featured with everyday people, having fun dancing however they feel most comfortable, their own way. Taylor’s overall “Shake it off” message is supporting the motto. Be strong in mind, muscle and heart by knowing who you are, and having the courage to be you regardless of whether or not people like it. You want to be happy? Live your life YOUR WAY not a copy of what the world tells you to be.


The very best version of you, is the one who breaks free of influence and finds the inner confidence to realize you don’t need other’s approval.
Now, just because I am posting this blog, doesn’t mean I have it all figured out. I don’t know what the secret ingredient is to finding that inner confidence and I would be willing to bet that the recipe is different for all of my friends. But I think simply coming together and recognizing that everyone struggles, everyone has insecurities and nobody is perfect is the framework to start building yourself up. Be proud of who you are and all that you have accomplished. The only person you should compare yourself is the person you were yesterday.


Today’s struggle is tomorrow’s strength.


Be strong, but most importantly, be proud.

Respond Endure Overcome

“….We respond, we endure, we overcome and we own the finish line!” – VP Joe Biden at yesterday’s memorial for the Boston Marathon attack.

My good friends Kate, Mike and I did a “Boston Strong” run in memory of the victims. It was in one part running for those who can’t and another part running to keep ourselves grounded in appreciation for what we have. We endured 9.5 miles of rolling downtown KC hills; we ran from the crossroads over to Union Station and the Liberty Memorial up to Westport Rd through West Plaza neighborhoods down to the Plaza and back up Main Street to Crown Center leading back to our office, our theoretical finish line.

The weather was perfect for a run, sunny with a cool 55 degree breeze. With the hustle and bustle of life around us and the chaos building in our legs we overcame the distance. None of us had run that far this season so we were overly aggressive in our plan of attack. Mike had no idea what we had in store; we said “it’s better if you don’t know” and he blindly followed, and naturally, he owned it. I love running with Mike because being new to the city so much is new to him. He takes in his surroundings, curious about every building, every fountain and every neighborhood. My buddy Kate was also in town from Colorado so the hills didn’t slow her down. Training through the trails of Golden, Colorado her legs were ready; the distance was new, but the elevation change was not. The three of us together endured and overcame the throbs and kept pushing as a team thinking about those that didn’t have the option.

Hitting the finish-line, proud of our accomplishment we high-fived and went on our separate ways. Later, as I sat in my living room rolling my muscles out I couldn’t help but smile at the pain. This throbbing ache in my hips was a reminder that I have a lot to celebrate. It doesn’t matter how fast or how strong, it’s how hard you try.

Be strong in mind, muscle, and heart.   Respond, endure and overcome.

You don't know until you Tri...

I crossed the finish line after 6 hours 48 minutes and 11 seconds, significantly faster than my goal. For a brief moment when the young volunteer congratulated me and put the medal over my head I had completely forgot about the stabbing pains in my feet, my screaming hamstring and the knot forming in the middle of my back. At that moment I smiled and exhaled. Holy shit, did I really just swim, bike and run a cumulative 70.3 miles? Did I do that? I shake my head side to side… Holy shit.  



In October of 2010 I watched my good friend and former KC Tribe teammate Brittany Fischer finish her first half-marathon. Standing at the finish line watching these men and women, you could tell which ones were veterans and which ones were rookies by the pride they wore on their face when they finished. I remember getting emotional when a mom was approaching the finish line and her young daughter ran out to her, they latched hands and crossed together on the verge of tears. Proud of the tough mental and physical battle she had just conquered.

It was at that moment that I decided to make a change in my own life. I have been an athlete my entire life; I am the record holder at my high school for the Pentathlon, I went to college on a dual athletic scholarship for track and basketball and then played women’s tackle football winning the World Championship and earned DMVP and Team Captain 3 out of 4 years. But being an athlete doesn’t mean I have always been in shape. All of us are familiar with how our bodies and metabolism change as we age. I didn’t do my body any favors with the amount of beer I drank, fast food I ate, and cigarettes I inhaled. (Gasp! Yes, I was a heavy smoker. Shame on me.) And it all caught up to me in a blink of an eye.


I was committed to change. My good friend Kate Hercules and I started doing Insanity in the basement of our office over lunch and I started working out with Brittany and the YMCA once a week. I changed my diet and most importantly quit smoking. In April of 2011 I signed up for the trolley run, a fast 4-mile run in KC. I was so proud of myself for finishing and not walking. I wanted to keep testing myself. I wanted to see how far I could take my body. A half-marathon. That was my goal. A knee surgery that spring set me back a few months but it didn’t change my mind. After I recovered I joined the CF18 CrossFit gym and was getting stronger and faster than I had been in years. In October 2011 I ran my first half-marathon, exactly one year after watching Brittany finish her run. I ran 13.1 miles in 2 hours 10 minutes. I was so proud of my accomplishment. I never knew I was capable of that. The spring of 2012 I ran another half marathon improving my time by 13 minutes finishing in 1 hour 57 minutes.
A few months later, Kate Hercules called me up and said “Layne, we are doing the STL Rock’n’Roll full marathon in the fall. Go sign up.” Eeeek, Kate always has me doing crazy stuff and I have a hard time saying no to her. She had just finished her first half-ironman the fall of 2011. She was inspiring in so many ways, dedicated to her training, putting in so many miles every week. I thought she was super-human. After significant nagging from her and her little sister Alex, I committed to doing the full marathon. My best friends Cristin and Tony Shaw also caught the running bug and committed to doing a half-marathon in STL. On October 21st 2012 I finished my marathon slow and steady running the entire course, never walking a step in 4 hours 50 minutes 26 seconds. Worst. Pain. Ever. When I crossed the finish line Tony, Cristin and her dad Tom were standing there cheering me on, so excited for my accomplishment. “How do you feel?!?” they said, and all I could muster to say was that I wanted to amputate my feet! Pain for days. My body took a beating on that pavement. I declared I would never do it again. And I am still standing by that.


That December, I am at work, and I get an email forward from Kate and then my phone rings, it’s Kate. This can’t be good. [Deep Sigh] Shortly after I hung up the phone I was confirming my payment for the Boulder Triathlon series. Why can’t I say no to this girl!? Over the summer of 2013 I would be doing a Sprint triathlon, Olympic Triathlon and a Half-ironman all in Boulder, Colorado.
 
 

Meanwhile, a new girl started at my company and we became fast friends both sharing our love for CrossFit and competition and unthinkable fitness challenges. She was a competitive swimmer growing up so we started training together going to the pool once a week; this girl swims like a fish! She gave me a lot of pointers and each week I got more and more comfortable in the water. We also ran a half-marathon together in the spring of 2013, her first ever! 
 
 

It took very little convincing to get Jess to sign up for the Boulder Peak Olympic triathlon through a work incentive so we both competed in the KC Corporate Challenge sprint triathlon and then in July became road warriors driving out to Boulder together to meet up with Kate and 2 other coworkers to swim 1 mile, bike 23 miles and run a 10K. The longest distances we had ever faced at that time. A nagging hamstring injury and an irritated knee had slowed me down 6 weeks leading up to the Boulder Peak so I was pretty beat up but proud to finish. I swam 1 mile in 38 minutes 37 seconds, I biked 23 miles in 1 hour 32 minutes and 45 seconds and ran the 6.2 miles in 1 hour 10 minutes. And it was awful. It was scary to think that in 3 weeks I would be back to double those distances.
 
Doubt started to set in. Could I do it?
 

On August 4th at the Boulder Reservoir Kate and I are on the beach surveying the scene. The sky is clear and the sun is blinding coming up on the other side of the lake  The air is cool and crisp with a calming since of anxiety. Kate and I approach the water and lock hands. My eyes fill with tears, what the hell am I doing? Kate shakes my arm, “We got this!” I shake off my emotions and walk in. The water was COLD…I was one of very few not wearing a wet suit. My gut clenches and I just keep walking until it starts to get deep enough to start swimming. I swim about 100 meters and think again, “Jesus Layne, what are you doing, you don’t belong here!” I tell myself to get a grip and keep swimming, counting every buoy I pass. I am finally able to put both feet down and slowly gain my footing on the other side of the beach. I strip off my goggles and swim cap and start heading up to the transition shoot. 1.2 miles in 47 minutes 11 seconds. Check.
 
I hear my people screaming my name and I put some pep in my step. My best friend Cristin made the drive from Kansas City with me, my good buddy Valter woke up bright and early driving in from Denver to show his support and my training partner Jessica and her parents were on their way to a family vacation in Breckinridge so they made a detour to come see us compete. Kate’s fiancé, sister and brother were all there supporting us every step of the way as well. It is an incredible feeling seeing your people in every transition.
 
In the transition I slap on some sunscreen and dry off my feet as best I can. I get my bike shoes secured, grab my helmet and my PB&J and I am off... I get mounted and hear my people cheering! The bike always makes me the most nervous because there is so much outside of your control, flat tires, chains mishaps, etc. The night before the race when we were discussing strategy I said “As long as I can get off the bike I know I will finish. The run is just a gut check. I just need to get off the bike.” 
 
I take off and once I get comfortable I grab my PB&J and rip half of it off; I need to start consuming calories early, I learned that the hard way during the Boulder Peak. The first 15 miles of the bike was uphill into the mountains on the West side of town, and I was feeling it. My legs were burning and my lungs were working hard, I almost choked on my PB&J trying to eat and breath. I decided to eat the rest of my sandwich after I conquered the climb. I carried Gatorade and water with me switching between swigs, Gatorade would get me the added calories I would need and would keep me hydrated. At mile 30 I snatched a banana from the aid station. I was lucky to not leave any victims in my wake as I barreled through the aid stations. Those volunteers are brave! At this particular aid station I had grabbed a water bottle and then saw a man holding out a banana, I tried to hold the water bottle in my left hand and keep my front tire steady at the same time, reaching with my right hand to snag the banana. I was headed straight for the poor guy, as he was diving out of the way we still a managed a successful handoff, although I am sure he may have peed a little. At the 40 mile mark I popped a few caffeinated stingers Kate had given me before the race. These are like gummy bears but loaded with caffeine and sugar for quick energy.  


Turning on to Jay Road I smile to myself as I see the tents in the distance. I made it. I turned into the Reservoir transition shoot and unclipped to dismount...my legs were jelly. 56 miles on the bike had my legs looking like that of a new born deer trying to walk for the first time. The girl next to me and I make eye contact and pause for a second “Don’t fall, just don’t fall.” I said laughing, she giggled and then I hear my people cheering me on, laughing at my wobbly legs. I high five them and take my bike into the transition. Averaging 17mph over 56 miles had me finishing in 3 hours 17 minutes and 46 seconds. I made it off the bike. Now I just need to run a half marathon…I got this shit.
 
In the transition I eat half of a banana from my bag; sitting in the sun for 4 hours made it pretty mushy so I spared my gag reflex and just ate the salvageable parts. I change into dry socks and throw on my running shoes, applying some more sunscreen and shaking out my legs. I start running to the exit and see my people again. High fiving and cheesing for pictures. Seeing them provides such a jump start of energy, my heart pounds faster and I put a little pep in my step. I smile thinking, “I made it to the run.” At that moment I knew I would finish I just had to work through the pain. It. Was. Hot. When you are running at noon, in August, in the mountains the sun beats you up! At the aid stations I grabbed some pretzels and threw cold water over my head, drinking one glass and throwing another occasionally grabbing some PowerAde Perform. They had cold sponges I put under the straps of my sports bra to keep my body cool and I wore a visor to keep the sun off my face.
 
The run course was a dirt trail that went all the way around the lake. We had to do the loop twice which was nice because after you finished the first half, you mentally knew what was up ahead and you could strategize your attack plan. Plus you got to see your people at the halfway point to provide you with some encouragement and coaching. I didn’t wear a watch for any of the legs of the race so I really had no idea how I was doing. I just wanted to finish. My people were there at the halfway point cheering me on and Cristin joined me for a bit asking how I was feeling. She informed me that I killed my bike time finishing way faster than I estimated and my run time was great. That was nice to hear. I was at 5:25 overall for the first lap of the run. If I could keep up that pace I would kill my estimated time! That was exactly what I needed to hear to power through the second lap.
  
My hamstring injury forces me to walk all the hills but I used it to my advantage and took the much needed breaks. My feet were killing me. Mentally I was there and my nutrition on the bike set me up for success, I just needed to gut through the pain in my feet and make sure I stay hydrated.
 
At the last aid station I look up and see neon yellow shorts up ahead. A little over a mile to go and there is my best friend Cristin. Emotions choked me up and I pick up the pace jogging to her. She steps in stride with me updating me on my times and telling me how Kate’s race went; Kate is a dynamite biker so she had already finished at that point. Cristin runs with me for the last mile until we see the rest of my people. Feeling overwhelmed with happiness and pride I wave to them. I was almost there and I was feeling strong. Cristin turns off and I continue my run into the finish shoot seeing the giant blue Ironman Finish I smile ear to ear.


The announcer says my name “Layne Anonsen from Independence MO” and I throw my hands in the air. Victory. Holy shit. Ironman 70.3. 

 

I put my hands on my hips and walk up to the young girl to get my medal. I put my foot out for the other volunteer to take my chip off my ankle. I smile, holding back tears, and say “Thank you” as they hand me water and a new ironman hat and then all of the sudden all the pain is back. Holy shit. 70.3. I stand in front of a blue screen with Ironman written all over it rocking my new hat and my new medal, smiling for a photographer. I walk to the end of the shoot and there are my people. Kate is wearing her hat and her medal and runs to me to give me a hug. 70.3. Holy shit. We crack some jokes and reminisce briefly and then limp off in search of some protein and the massage tent. Both smiling ear-to-ear wearing our medals with pride.
 

In 2010 when I was 60 pounds overweight, smoking a pack a day I would have laughed in your face if you would have told me this was my future.
 
In 2011 when I was gimped up after having knee surgery I would have told you my body wasn’t capable of this.
 
In 2012 after I finished that gut wrenching marathon and seriously considering amputation I would have said no way in hell.

But here we are. Summer of 2013 and I completed my first ever Half-Ironman. 70.3 miles.
 
Pain is temporary but Pride is forever.