RACE REPORT: Beach 2 Battleship 2009

Submitted by: Kinnie Pruden

I hardly know where to start, but my first inclination is to give thanks to God for shining down on me in so many ways. A second thanks to my husband and kids for putting up with me, their sacrifices during this journey and their support. And many, many thanks to my best friend Patti for all her support, especially on race day. Thanks to my coach Val for a brilliantly conceived training plan. And thanks to my extended family for their prayers and support. (Sorry, Mom, for all the anxiety I caused you.)

We headed to Wilmington Friday morning. My last couple of days were marked by a nagging headache that now I know was stress induced. I was distracted over the last couple of weeks during my taper by illnesses experienced by my children. I was in prayer constantly that I would stay healthy and make it to the starting line. The last few days prior to the race were mostly about organizing my five race bags that were to be distributed throughout my race; clothes from swim to be used at the finish, T1, bike special needs, T2, and run special needs.

We stayed with dear friends in Wilmington who were all about my comfort. What more could you ask? But Friday night I had to try hard to simply not think about the next day. I had to concentrate on the little things. Because whenever my mind ventured to the big picture it was more than I could grasp and would send me into a panic. So, I decided to fret about T1!

Here’s the deal: After swimming 2.4 miles in 66 deg. water, the air temperature around 40 deg.s, we would exit the water, have someone strip off our wet suits, go through a cold shower, then run/jog, half naked, carrying a cumbersome wetsuit, about 300 yds to the transition area. I was not happy with this prospect. It sounded like some contest out of Survivor. However, I did it. And it wasn’t awful! Once in T1 I entered a tent with about 20 or so other women trying to dress for a 40+ deg. bike ride (at least for the start). The first thing that caught my eye was a completely naked woman standing right in the middle (everyone else was seated around the walls of the tent). She was covered with tattoos on her arms and back. I decided to stop there and get about my own business.

I had decided before starting the race that it was not my style to get naked in front of strangers, so I simply added layers to my wet clothing. Well, anyone who has tried to put on spandex when you’re wet knows that this is no easy task. Needless to say my T1 was not quick. I also discovered that I had two right handed gloves in my T1 bag. That’s O.K., wore them anyway. Headed out to the bike (had to first make a potty stop). Heard the cheers from Patti and Billy; got some pics, and headed out for my 6+ hour ride. Another fact I had to break down into small increments.

At mile 5 a man wrecked his bike behind me. Sounded awful! He ran into a traffic cone and proceeded to skid on the pavement. I stopped to see if he was O.K. Fortunately one of the referee motorcycles was directly behind him and stopped to take care of the matter. I proceeded onward. My memories of the bike were beautiful scenery, wonderful volunteers, and a bear of a head wind for the last 40 miles! My averages dropped from 19 mph to 16 to 17 mph and I was working harder to achieve that miserable pace. That hurt the psyche, and unfortunately took more out of me than planned. I made two stops along the bike (not including the one after the crash) and never used my special needs bag. As I came into the Battleship area I saw this very large bridge looming, not a problem on the bike, hills I can handle. However, I noticed people running over that very large bridge. “Awwwwwe,” I wined in my mind. “Please tell me we’re not running over that!” Yep, we were. I dropped off my bike, had a much better T2 and headed out on my run. Saw my boys for the first time, Patti, my husband and friends, heard their cheers; very nice!


Took a right out of the Battleship and headed straight up hill. Half way up the hill someone had painted on the bridge, “Just Run Bitch.” That gave me a well needed chuckle. I ran/jogged up that bridge for the first and last time. I would go over it three more times but I would not be jogging. I descended the bridge, not bad. Took a right and stared at another bridge, not good; first two miles, two bridges. “I thought this was supposed to be a flat course.” I guess that depends on whether you’re a racer or someone marketing the race. Another mile and I descended a hill so steep if I had run fast I would have done a nose plant.

I continued along the water front of downtown Wilmington. Lots of spectators there which was nice, also cobblestones which were not nice. (Saw Jeannie and Eric Standal. They sent me an interesting pic. My body was slumped over and my head was hanging, but I had a grin on my face.) Well, had to leave the waterfront at the other end which naturally meant straight up hill. Gotta walk! I had a hard time walking up that hill! Take a right, continue to climb. Finally, headed for the lake and flatter countryside. Whew! But what kept nagging at me was I had to traverse those hills, yep, three more times. Finally at mile ten, my mind went dark. I was not finishing this race. “How was I going to tell Patti and my family and friends that I was not doing this out and back again?” “What would they say when I tell them I’m done?” “I’m not even to the turn around and my body can’t go any further, my foot is killing me, and my mind is out of the game.”

In comes Patti, “Kinnie Pruden!” I hear. “Go, Kinnie Pruden!” as she approaches. Finally a familiar face, one that will have sympathy and let me wallow in my self-pity. Well, if you know Patti Miller, given a competitive venue, that description does not suit her- thankfully. My eyes started to fill with tears, my lip quivered and Patti said, “Ah, ah, ah, they’ll be no crying! We’re not crying ‘til the finish line. Try just running 30 seconds.” “I’m walking the next 16,” I said. “My foot hurts.” (Notice my mind had immediately turned around. 16 miles was my goal instead of quitting.) Patti then gently continued to push me to run a little. “Why is she trying to get me to run?” I remember thinking. Tough love pulled me through. So I did start to run again, until I looked straight up that next steep hill.

But I persevered after that well needed kick in the pants from Patti – thank you from the bottom of my heart. I saw David Rose soon after that, who so nicely walked a little with me and offered tips; drink some Coke. I did, and it was great! (Peppermints were also a well needed break from all the sugary carbs.) Came in on the first loop. Patti had told a whole crowd my name and they loudly cheered me on by name; very cool. I actually don’t remember the turn around after that; just moved forward I guess. Oh yeah, grabbed my two left-handed gloves and arm warmers. Back up the bridges, done. Down and out of downtown, done.

“It’s dark. Why am I still out here?” They were giving out glow sticks so people could see me on the roads. Saw the same volunteers again, and again, and again. They were starting to look as tired as I was. “Coke, do you have Coke?” No we’re out. “What!” My much desired new friend, Coke, was not available on the second loop until mile 24. Bummer! Keep moving anyway. Talk to others. Notice on the return, last 6.5, there are people behind me! Hadn’t thought about that until now. Some of them actually starting their first loop! All of a sudden it was good to be me! I’m finishing this blasted thing! Moving along now with new vigor. My watch beeps another mile, 12:36. Maybe not as much vigor as I thought, but it’ll do.

One bridge down, last really big bridge looming. It’s O.K., I’m going home. Walked up the bridge, enjoyed the cool dark night and the lights at the Battleship which were ahead of me and the lights of downtown Wilmington which were now behind me. The lights reflected off the water as I reflected on my day. “Don’t cry yet, you’ll hyperventilate.” Over the top, start jogging/shuffling, whatever. 100 yards from the finish a guy with a walkie-talkie asked me if I was turning around or finishing. “I’m finishing.” and pointed in the direction of the finish line. I ran/jogged it in. And finally cried in the shoulder of a complete stranger (volunteer at finish line). She said, “I don’t even know who you are and you’re making me cry!” I finally got in the arms of my husband and my best friend. That’s where I had wanted to be since mile ten. 12 hours, 41 minutes and 33 seconds, done.