Wearing your mega Fuel Belt, you run by a family and overhear their child saying "Mommy, why does that lady have so many water bottles?"
Your husband walks up to you in mid-August and says "I've finally reached the point where I'm pooping 3 times a day." You pat him on the back and say "welcome to IM."
You have perfected the ability to bite off exactly one half of a bar while riding.
You find yourself walking around your kitchen naked wearing nothing but a heart rate monitor strap in between workouts.
3000 yards into the workout, you are finally warmed up.
You've gotten so tired that getting dressed has become one of the most physically challenging tasks you do each day. You find yourself laying on the floor, one leg in, one leg out thinking to yourself “I just got my ass handed to me by a pair of running shorts.”
You see more of your husband’s rear wheel than you do his face.
You keep track of how much of a workout is complete in terms of water bottles consumed rather than time.
In the past week, you may have spent more time in cycling shoes than your regular shoes. Actually, you might just own more cycling shoes than regular shoes at this point.
Someone suggests you do 7 loops of a course for a workout and you think to yourself "that sounds all right."
You go to a restaurant and after finishing your food the waiter says “wow, you were really hungry weren’t you” which you realize is polite code for “that chick is a real chowhound”.
When it starts raining during a ride you think to yourself, well, at least I won’t have to stop to pee now.
Your husband speaks about post-Ironman life in terms of how many beers he will drink.
You find yourself saying things like “aside from the fact that my foot feels like it’s falling off, I feel pretty good.”
Rather than sharing good movies or recipes with your friends, you share your Ironman packing list.
“Let’s have oatmeal for breakfast” is becoming profanity in your house.
Your arms are so tight from swimming that you need to give your elbow an assist when applying sunscreen to your own back. In doing so, you have elbowed yourself in the face more than once.
Most people would get put on meds for the amount of salt you consume.
You see another guy riding the other direction in the pouring rain and you think "he's one of us."
Your doctor says "you need surgery" and you say "it can wait until after Ironman.
You have become so desperate for cold water on a long ride that you have found yourself outside of a church because it should be the one good place in this world that has a hose you can use no questions asked. You swear to god when you discover that the hose doesn't work.
You have heard yourself saying this statement: "Now that my ____ hurts, at least my ____ doesn't hurt anymore."
You have become so desperate for more calories that you have found yourself drinking straight out of the chocolate syrup bottle at night.
You have argued with your friends about the difference between The Hurt Shop and The Kennel of Death and how to get there.
You realize you were in The Kennel of Death when you learned at 107 miles of the ride you have 35 more to go.
You used to find just empty gel packets in your washing machine. Now you find chunks of half-eaten bars.
For some reason, your husband's small toe has exploded in a black and blue bruise. Two x-rays later, the doctor is unsure what to chalk it up to. You know better. You know it's the Ironman. It has consumed the little toe.