Ironman Santa Rosa. Jeremy has been dreaming, worrying, stressing, anticipating, preparing, training, and hoping for this race for months. He did everything he could to have his best race and bounced back and forth between butterflies in his stomach and no worries at all during the days leading up to it. We arrived in Santa Rosa a few days early so that we would have plenty of time to check in, scope out the race course, and take care of any last-minute emergencies that might pop up. We stayed at the bed and breakfast, Bella Villa Messina. It made an amazing first impression. It sits atop a hill all by itself and had incredibly 360 degree views of the country. We could see vineyards for miles. When they talk about wine country they really mean wine country.
One of the owners of the B&B was named Jerry. He loved his job. He knew everything about everyone. He was a great man to ask for advice on where to eat, what vineyards had the best tasting rooms, what micro climates each grape needs to thrive, and truly other any other random knowledge you could ask for, like NJ real estate tax for example. When Jeremy and I were stymied about dinner one night, he recommended a restaurant then proceeded to call them up (having memorized the phone number), and talked one of the hostesses (whom he knew by name) into reserving a table for us (even though the place was completely packed). He's that kind of guy. The guests at the house were also so friendly. We chatted while we floated in the pool. We visited during cocktail hour (while we ate some delicious cheeses). And they even were interested enough in the crazy race Jeremy was doing to go watch some of the athletes race by on race morning.
The Villa at sunset
The days leaded up to the race were pretty chill. We did what we needed to do and didn't run into any complications. As we drove the bike course I couldn't help but think how lucky Jeremy was to be riding through this country. We had to stop to take a picture just because it is so picturesque.
Our mouths wouldn't let us ignore the bunches of grapes on those vines and we took a small sample.
Race morning we were a bundle of nerves. One of the big unknowns for this race was it a wetsuit non-wetsuit legal race. We had heard varying water temperature reports all week and Jeremy needed it to be cool enough. We couldn't believe it when the directors announced a 76.1 degree race. That was the maximum temperature still legal for his wetsuit. We both breathed a sigh of relief because as improved as he is, he is still a stronger swimmer with the buoyancy of his wetsuit. I signed up to help with body marking and loved meeting all the athletes were were still happy and excited to be there. Jeremy took care of everything he needed to at T1, then headed off to the swim start.
I didn't follow him down because I decided to finish helping the athletes with their morning clothes bags. I leaped over a barricade, landed on one of the bags and twisted my ankle severely. I looked down and immediately saw swelling the size of a golf ball. That didn't look good but I decided to walk it off. I only helped with the morning clothes bags for about five more minutes before I decided I couldn't walk it off, and set off down the boat ramp to find medical. By the time I hobbled down there Jeremy was already in the water. I took a seat with some ice and watched him race from almost a front row seat. 
Beautiful morning for a race.
He came out of the water looking amazing and he even met his goal time. I cheered from the sidelines but he didn't know where to look for me, not knowing about my injury. (He's in a purple cap on the left.)
I had to hang out there in medical until all of the athletes exited the water and we could get an ambulance to take me up to my car in the upper lot. The ambulance drivers took me directly to my car and wished me luck as I drove myself to the ER. By the time I checked into the ER it had been four hours since my injury. I was dying to know if it was broken, sprained, or if I tore a ligament. X-rays showed no break so they gave me an Ace wrap, ice, a pair of crutches and sent me on my way. I drove back to the race and made it to T2 just in time to see Jeremy come in off his bike. It was a bit slower than he was hoping for, but not much. I still saw him smiling and was glad things were going well.
It was a three-loop run which was a life saver for me. I found a place by a tree right on the course so I could watch him pass without having to move. The first few miles looked good according to the Ironman tracker, but then it looked like he started to slow down. As he passed he told me he took some Hot Shot around mile 4 and it caused his stomach to cramp up and started throwing up there on course. From that moment his race was done. He could walk without too much pain but as soon as he started running again he'd cramp up. I anxiously awaited him as he ran his second loop. It was not looking good. He had really hoped to earn a Kona slot this race. He had done everything he could do to prepare for it and now because of stomach cramps he was losing it. I knew he was going to be so disappointed. When he circled back around I hopped up on my crutches to walk beside him for a few minutes. This was the first time he had seen my crutches and was instantly worried about what had happened to me. We laughed about how things could go so wrong so fast then he set off to finish his final loop. I moved to the finish line to wait.
I swear that last loop always takes longer. Knowing how much he was hurting I was so proud of him for running down that chute and across that finish line.
It wasn't exactly the time he was hoping for, but let's be real here-it's still an Ironman! And it's the first time the race hasn't been changed or shortened for us, so he can now say he's done all 140.6 miles.
We made a sad pair limping away from the race course that day; me on my crutches, and him with his race gear feeling so exhausted.
We flew out the next day but strategically mapped our return so we could drive through San Francisco to pick up some sourdough bread from Boudins. Passing by the Golden Gate bridge was a bonus. We just wanted a quick picture with the two of us and the bridge because the pictures from our honeymoon were too blurry and didn't turn out. It felt a bit like we had come full circle. Unfortunately every tourist in San Francisco also wanted a picture of the bridge. Traffic was crazy and the parking lots were worse. We decided just to use a handicap space to flip around when we realized hey, I think I can use this for once. We pulled into the handicap spot instead and I hopped out with my crutches. The traffic attendant gave us a quick glance but let us stay. We were out of the car for 30 seconds top to snap this then we were on our way to the bakery.
I just thought all the tourists were by the bridge, I was wrong. They were all by Pier 39. There were no parking spots there either so I drove in circles while Jeremy retrieved our lunch. It was worth it. I truly have never had sourdough bread as tasty as Boudin's. At the airport we had to say good-bye. He was flying to Denver and I was flying to Salt Lake (with pre-board clearance) to pick up the kids and drive them home. It wasn't quite the romantic weekend we anticipated but it definitely had it's highlights.
