2010 IMC, The best of times, the worst of times

This year's version of Ironman Canada featured cool temps, rain, sleet, and strong North winds.
Swim: Cold & Slow 1:28
You reap what you sow. Notorious for my lack of swim training, I did even less this year, and it showed.
Bike: Steady pace 6:40
More bike miles this year (3500+), and it paid off. Didn't go faster, but felt strong and in control all day.
Run: Into the Abyss....and back! 5:19
Felt like a runner, had to slow my pace down in early miles, my legs felt great. Started to get tight around mile 8, the beginning of the meltdown.
Got to the turnaround in OK Falls, and walked up the big hill out of town. Tried to baby step jog, but my legs said no. Walked about 1 mile with a guy who was having more trouble than me. (I'm on the edge now, looking down). Saw him to the medical tent at the next aid station, then tried to jog again, but instead fell directly into the abyss.
Yes, I fell into the abyss, and I like it. This is a nice place, I didn't want to leave it. I knew it wasn't my happy place, but in this warped reality, I was in la la land. I was feeling sorry for myself, thinking I was suffering so badly, I wanted to quit, and the darkness of the abyss offered me refuge. I could stay here, and everything would be just fine. Misery loves company, and I was lonely. Then a funny thing happened.
Coming up to mile 18, my brain told me it was 19. I knew it was 18, but wanted to believe it was 19. I couldn't yet read the mile marker, and squinted into the distance. Is that an 8 or a 9? It better be a 9, I told myself. Soon I could read the numbers, and seeing it was only 18, I got angry at the mile marker. I was really ticked off. But my anger helped me out of my funk, and I began to climb up from the darkness. I realized I wasn't suffering any more than anyone else, and I should stop feeling sorry for myself.

I begin to get mad at ME! I use this to get to mile 19, where attempting the math, I thought maybe, just maybe (if I was seeing my watch right), I could finish just past 14 hours. I'm climbing up and nearly out of the chasm now. It took the next mile to clear my head, and at mile 20 I more accurately evaluated my situation. I had 6.2 miles to go, and 1 1/2 hours to 14 hours. Can I run a 10k in an hour and a half?
As you can see, I was getting my wits about me, and now I had a goal. The last 10k was the most gratifying I've ever run. My will to finish strong, and my determination to hit my new goal, was very satisfying. This fueled my desire to finish strong. Rather than trying to survive the run, I embraced it, and went for it. Again, I felt like a runner. By mile 22, I ran the long incline just past Skaha Lake beach. I made the turn onto Main. This impossibly long uphill stretch went by effortlessly. I crested the rise, and lengthened my stride. I was back in town, feeling great, and felt like I was flying.
Turned left off Main, then right onto Winnipeg, and saw the mass of people lining the course. Did the last left turn of the night onto Lakeshore, only 1.2 miles to go, and I was going to enjoy every step. If you've done IMC before, you know the nasty trick of the finish line so near, and yet so far. 1k to the Sicamous, do the u-turn, then the final 1k to the finish. This usually is a difficult section. Not this night, not for me, not after what I'd been through.
I hear them screaming and clapping. I hear the pounding from the bleachers. I see the faces, they're as excited as I am. This finish is my celebration from the abyss. My celebration of the power of the human spirit, which when called upon, can lead anyone to great things. I once was teetering on the brink, I now have strength. I once felt pain, I now feel euphoria. I once had doubt, I now am in awe. Ten thousand voices escort me to the finish line, and it's over. The abyss, there and back again.