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.
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.
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