On Wednesday, I met with Coach Dave to talk about what we're going to work on for the next 7 months or so. I enjoyed my time off since IMAZ. I did not overindulge, but I ate without guilt. I did some activity, but not much. And I did not feel guilt or angst or bad for lack of workouts. This guilt-free 5 weeks is quite a large mental accomplishment. For too many years to even know, I have carried guilt in one way or another every single day about skipping the gym, or eating too much, or not eating enough, or not working out long enough (or hard enough or fast enough), or not getting all my training sessions in, or not getting enough vegetables in, etc. No matter how well I ate, or what physical activity I did, or if any pounds were lost, there was still always something to feel guilty about. You'd think I was programmed for guilt and went to parochial school and mass every Sunday. But I didn't (at least I don't feel guilty about that).
My company set me up with Nicole, a career coach, last year, to help me address a similar issue at work. We worked on how I shouldn't feel bad about things I don't want to do or am not excited about learning, even when my coworkers are. About how I can't do everything. About learning to say no/not now. She taught me that it's like building a muscle and I get better and better at it, the more I practice. I'm doing pretty well with those techniques I learned. But, I haven't been able to apply that muscle to my personal life.
After my session with Coach Dave, I thought about how great the last month felt from a state of mind -- To do or not to do, and not feel guilty about my choices. What a concept. And, I appreciate what a great guy he is for rolling with my lack of doing. "How does your swim feel?" "I haven't been in the water since Ironman." *smile* "OK, we'll get some pool workouts on the calendar soon."
Two years ago, if I would ever get in a funk, I knew it was my body's way of telling me to get to the gym. All that endorphin-releasing/serotonin secreting stuff is true. Luckily, I never got that funk this past month, but I do know my body is ready to start moving again on a regular basis. And after Wednesday's meeting, my head is finally ready, too. I actually got excited to start training again. I'm looking forward to local events like Tierra Bella, my first duathlon, and maybe the Primavera ride. I think the reason I got excited is because Coach Dave is just so animated talking about all the events. His energy is contagious.
Dave works full-time, yet still finds the time to run trails, ride a mountain bikes, compete in races, and coach on the side. He gives his time to TNT as a coach for the cross-country ski team and will also be coaching a TNT Tri team this spring. His passion for coaching got him to finally start Dreamcatcher Fitness, in addition to all the other stuff he does. He's done most of the local races, knows a lot of people, and has a lot of gadgets in that garage of his. Any ailment, injury, setback you have, he can find an alternative route. I'm glad I jumped on the opportunity to work with him for those last 3 months of training for Ironman and I look forward to his excitement, advice, and contagious energy over the next 7 months. I can't say enough good things about him. He also really likes bacon and thinks gluten is the devil. =) If you're looking for some individual attention and a training plan geared just to you and your schedule, he can help you meet you goals or catch your dream. (And, no, he doesn't know I'm writing this).
So as the new year approaches and everyone starts working on resolutions (despite that you can make a resolution any day of the year), I know one of mine will be something about weaning off the guilt trips. About being ok with what I eat or don't eat. About appreciating that a 30 minute workout in a hotel gym is better than none at all. About celebrating clothes that fit better even if the scale moves up. About knowing that despite how much training I missed last year, I still put in a lot of time in the pain cave. I did enough. I met my goal and crossed the finish line. And, with the help of Coach Dave, I will continue to grow, mentally and physically, and meet more goals this year.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Girl, Interrupted
Just a brief interruption on this training blog to announce that there was a shiny present for me on Christmas Eve. Nick asked me to marry him. And, after some crying and hugging, I said yes. Everyone is asking if I will be getting married in the summer, but the answer is no. People, we have a Half Ironman to get ready for in July!!!!
I'm making a promise to you and myself that this will be my only post about wedding planning.... So for those of you that have asked questions and my answer was, "We don't know yet," then keep reading. For everyone else, Happy Tiki might actually want to ride on the road soon, so check back for an update in a few days.
No date set, but it will be in the fall 2012.
What is the silver lining about planning a wedding when you're older? You've been to so many of them that you know exactly what you want. I know the Sun Devil is in the details, but after only a few hours of perusing the Internet, we've made several big decisions and know what WE want. Of course, priority is to find a venue and set a date. Fortunately, we have a lot of people that love us. Unfortunately, that means they all want to come. My family has tentacles with three dads and siblings galore. Nick is Chinese Thai. Have you been to an Asian wedding before? They have 400 people there. Do we want that? No. Even 200 people is a compromise yet hours of research has produced very little results and all of those venues are already reserved. Yes, there are banquet halls, and hotels, and event centers that will easily accommodate that many people, but that isn't what we want (nor what we want to pay for). Move it to the winter. Wait until 2013. Destination wedding. No, no, and most likely no.
There is a magic number that would still give us OUR special day to make that commitment to each other with our best family and friends to share the occasion. I love my badass brother. Of course he will be at the wedding and will play a role in it. But if I need advice or hit a rocky point in my relationship, am I going to call him? No. It will be a friend. If the true spirit of a wedding is to be surrounded by witnesses that will help you share your love and will be there to remind you of that love when things get tough, then where did this obligation come in that families come first? We have to quickly decide if we give up what we want to get everyone there, or we each make the difficult decision to exclude some friends that are a part of our lives, but maybe not as close to as we used to be. We didn't expect to have to make such difficult decisions straight out of the gate.
Over the past year, there were many instances where I said to Nick, "OK, no more talking about Ironman" or "Let's not talk about training anymore." The same rules will have to be applied about a wedding. We're already tired of it and it's only been 3 days (although that's because I am pushing to get some stuff done now before I start working full-time again next week). In addition, knowing me, I absolutely will have to set limits on myself that anything wedding related cannot be touched until after the day's training plan is completed. Period. Unlike Ironman, I actually have a time goal for both Lavaman and Vineman, which means hopefully getting my foot fixed and getting faster. Training for Ironman exhausted me physically and challenged me mentally. This is going to exhaust me mentally. Who knows? I might even look forward to workouts just so I don't have to think about the ubiquitous to-do list. *gasp*
I'm making a promise to you and myself that this will be my only post about wedding planning.... So for those of you that have asked questions and my answer was, "We don't know yet," then keep reading. For everyone else, Happy Tiki might actually want to ride on the road soon, so check back for an update in a few days.
No date set, but it will be in the fall 2012.
What is the silver lining about planning a wedding when you're older? You've been to so many of them that you know exactly what you want. I know the Sun Devil is in the details, but after only a few hours of perusing the Internet, we've made several big decisions and know what WE want. Of course, priority is to find a venue and set a date. Fortunately, we have a lot of people that love us. Unfortunately, that means they all want to come. My family has tentacles with three dads and siblings galore. Nick is Chinese Thai. Have you been to an Asian wedding before? They have 400 people there. Do we want that? No. Even 200 people is a compromise yet hours of research has produced very little results and all of those venues are already reserved. Yes, there are banquet halls, and hotels, and event centers that will easily accommodate that many people, but that isn't what we want (nor what we want to pay for). Move it to the winter. Wait until 2013. Destination wedding. No, no, and most likely no.
There is a magic number that would still give us OUR special day to make that commitment to each other with our best family and friends to share the occasion. I love my badass brother. Of course he will be at the wedding and will play a role in it. But if I need advice or hit a rocky point in my relationship, am I going to call him? No. It will be a friend. If the true spirit of a wedding is to be surrounded by witnesses that will help you share your love and will be there to remind you of that love when things get tough, then where did this obligation come in that families come first? We have to quickly decide if we give up what we want to get everyone there, or we each make the difficult decision to exclude some friends that are a part of our lives, but maybe not as close to as we used to be. We didn't expect to have to make such difficult decisions straight out of the gate.
Over the past year, there were many instances where I said to Nick, "OK, no more talking about Ironman" or "Let's not talk about training anymore." The same rules will have to be applied about a wedding. We're already tired of it and it's only been 3 days (although that's because I am pushing to get some stuff done now before I start working full-time again next week). In addition, knowing me, I absolutely will have to set limits on myself that anything wedding related cannot be touched until after the day's training plan is completed. Period. Unlike Ironman, I actually have a time goal for both Lavaman and Vineman, which means hopefully getting my foot fixed and getting faster. Training for Ironman exhausted me physically and challenged me mentally. This is going to exhaust me mentally. Who knows? I might even look forward to workouts just so I don't have to think about the ubiquitous to-do list. *gasp*
Tiki Goes to the Dish
Happy Tiki is still fighting a cold or virus or possible sinus infection and has been too stubborn to go to the doctor even though it's probably time he did. Working out just doesn't seem too palatable with a stuffy head and a cough. But, a walk around the Stanford Dish sounded like a good idea after a lovely breakfast with some friends in town. It was a nice way to get some fitness in without losing a lung.
Happy Tiki with Hoover Tower in the background. Anyone see J. Edgar yet? It's on the to-do list.
Happy Tiki is pretty "happy" to be in front of the dish because it means he will no longer be out of breath.
Another beautiful December day. There were lots and lots of cyclists out on Foothill Expwy on the way to/from the The Dish. Soon. Very soon. Happy Tiki will be joining them again. But, for now, he will enjoy his last week of "leisure" (or maybe zero) workouts.
Happy Tiki with Hoover Tower in the background. Anyone see J. Edgar yet? It's on the to-do list.
Happy Tiki is pretty "happy" to be in front of the dish because it means he will no longer be out of breath.
Another beautiful December day. There were lots and lots of cyclists out on Foothill Expwy on the way to/from the The Dish. Soon. Very soon. Happy Tiki will be joining them again. But, for now, he will enjoy his last week of "leisure" (or maybe zero) workouts.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Introducing Happy Tiki
Meet Happy Tiki. He'll be making a lot of appearances over the next 3 months. He's training for Lavaman, an Olympic distance triathlon on the Big Island, in April. Last weekend he had his first spinning session with a group of people that started an unofficial team called Lavateam.
They spun with plastic leis on until the leis got annoying. A few of them even spun with Santa hats and antlers!
Then they went for a run, but silly Happy Tiki forgot his running shoes (he also forgot his spinning shoes, but luckily another tiki had an extra pair to borrow)!!! So while the other tikis did a short run, Happy Tiki did some TRX.
And, then it was time for dim sum and to start planning the trip to Kona.
And, then it was time for dim sum and to start planning the trip to Kona.
It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year
Now that I'm taking a break from training, I get to enjoy one of my favorite activities of the year -- The Family Giving Tree. From approximately Dec 13-23 every year, the Family Giving Tree collects over 60,000 gifts from Bay Area companies and organizations to distribute to local agencies supporting families in need. Sadly, last year, I only made it to the warehouse for a couple of hours. However, this year, I was able to give a lot more time.
What makes the Family Giving Tree different? It gives a gift to the child that wants that specific gift. If Yesenia wants a Barbie with a convertible car, then that is what we try to give her. When I lived in Phoenix, there were different giving trees for Salvation Army, the homeless shelter, the women's center, etc. at the various malls. In the Bay Area, rather than each of those agencies fight for resources, they go to Family Giving Tree, which services over 200 agencies. It creates a brand that gets PSAs on TV, news coverage, and over 6000 volunteers. Power is in numbers.
My favorite day is drop-off day. This is where hundreds of cars and trucks pull up all day long with trunks and truckbeds and backseats full of gifts. I get my workout in unloading cars, pushing gigantic boxes around, and unloading the boxes into "the pile." I am always sore the next day!
Then we work on sorting the pile into smaller piles by agency code. This is a great job for little ones like Girl Scouts. Family Giving Tree really promotes having children in the warehouse to instill a sense of philanthropy at a young age.
This past weekend, I twisted the arm of some Iron teammates to come work in the warehouse with me.
According to Sedonia's calculations we did the equivalent of approximately 700 toe touches. I did a lot of squatting, too. And, my hammies were *very* sore by the time I walked out of there that night.
What makes the Family Giving Tree different? It gives a gift to the child that wants that specific gift. If Yesenia wants a Barbie with a convertible car, then that is what we try to give her. When I lived in Phoenix, there were different giving trees for Salvation Army, the homeless shelter, the women's center, etc. at the various malls. In the Bay Area, rather than each of those agencies fight for resources, they go to Family Giving Tree, which services over 200 agencies. It creates a brand that gets PSAs on TV, news coverage, and over 6000 volunteers. Power is in numbers.
My favorite day is drop-off day. This is where hundreds of cars and trucks pull up all day long with trunks and truckbeds and backseats full of gifts. I get my workout in unloading cars, pushing gigantic boxes around, and unloading the boxes into "the pile." I am always sore the next day!
From there, every child has a number so we "row" the gifts by number. We find out which child has two gifts (remove the duplicate and put in "The Store" and find which children are missing a gift and "shop" for their desired gift from "The Store").
Monday, December 12, 2011
This Little Piggy Hung On For Dear Life
**If you're a podophobia, please skip this entry.
I kept it bandaged for a few days. After I took the bandage/compression off, all the blood pooled into it and began to look nasty.
A few days later, it started to lift. For the past 21 days, I have woken up every morning wondering if my toenail was still there. If something felt funny in my shoe, I would quickly take my foot out and make sure it was intact. When I came home from work, I was afraid to take my shoes off, thinking I would find a missing toenail. This morning, when I kicked my slipper off, it must have caught at just the right spot and I had to say goodbye to my first (and hopefully last) lost toenail.
I know a lot of runners feel it's a badge of honor to lose a toenail. There are some crazies out there that have permanently removed their toenails for this very problem. However, I am not a "runner" and I like my feet. Therefore, I'm not exactly happy about this development. I'm just grateful it happened during the winter months and not when I'm sporting flip flops and cute sandals every day.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Anti-gravity Yoga
Earlier this week, I took a class I've been wanting to take for a couple of months, but couldn't find the time -- anti-gravity yoga. The yoga poses are performed with the assistance of a hammock that is 9ft wide. If you want to take anti-gravity yoga, you have to be able to trust your body. As long as you have the hammock wrapped correctly, you will fall or flip into the inversion poses without fail. My favorite pose was the "bat" -- which was appropriately named. We hung upside down like a bat and the hammock was wrapped the same way as a bat's wings.
*I stole these pictures from Google since I didn't take any myself. :)
The class also included some strength training with the hammock (similar to TRX, but even harder). My back and shoulders were yelling at me the next day (in a good way).
Toward the end of class, the instructor had us in a pose she coined "the strapless dress" for the girls and "the beach towel" for the guys, which was basically just lying on your stomach. And, then she pushed us for no reason other than to just feel like a kid again swinging back and forth. I LOVED it!
We ended with the "cocoon", which was basically doing corpse pose in the hammock. Unfortunately, because we were swinging earlier, the hammock still had a lot of motion, I ended up getting seasick and had to wait it out for 30 minutes before I could drive home.
*I stole these pictures from Google since I didn't take any myself. :)
The class also included some strength training with the hammock (similar to TRX, but even harder). My back and shoulders were yelling at me the next day (in a good way).
Toward the end of class, the instructor had us in a pose she coined "the strapless dress" for the girls and "the beach towel" for the guys, which was basically just lying on your stomach. And, then she pushed us for no reason other than to just feel like a kid again swinging back and forth. I LOVED it!
We ended with the "cocoon", which was basically doing corpse pose in the hammock. Unfortunately, because we were swinging earlier, the hammock still had a lot of motion, I ended up getting seasick and had to wait it out for 30 minutes before I could drive home.
This class is one of those where you feel like you need to be in better shape to take it, but you also need to take it more to get in better shape. Even two weeks after IM, I was still a little tight in certain places and I felt the extra push you get in some of these poses helped open up some of those areas -- especially in my hip flexors. I would take it again, but next time I'd take a Dramamine first.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
First Post-IM Workout
This past weekend was time for me to finally do some sort of real workout again. We've walked a bunch since November 20, but nothing I could claim that was a "workout." It was almost like I was nervous. I thought about going to the gym and was wondering if I would even remember how to just "go to the gym" anymore (of course I do, but I still wondered). Nick suggested we go to The Dish because every time we rode our bikes past it I would comment, "I still have never hiked The Dish!"
The Dish is a radio telescope in the Stanford foothills.
It's used for academic research for the university, but the land is also a recreational area made up of a 4 mile loop for walkers and joggers. I walked most of it (and panted as I'm still getting over a head cold and can't breathe properly), and just enjoyed the beautiful day.
On the way out, I noticed we could see downtown San Francisco and downtown Oakland (the city is the unfocused part thanks to an uncooperative camera).
And, on the way back, I could see both cities again to the north and downtown San Jose to the south.
For those in the Bay area looking for a leisurely walk (or running with some hills and maybe throwing in a few hill repeats) with some nice views, I recommend it. Prior to IM, I spent a lot of time hiking and jogging Rancho San Antonio, but it's all trails and I would be pretty dirty when I got back in my car. Although The Dish is much smaller than Rancho, it is a nice alternative because it's 100% paved.
Training for an Ironman is hard. Yet, here I was dreading taking that first step to do something again. How silly is that? But this little hike (if you can even call it that) was a really nice segue for me to start cross-training in the off season.
The Dish is a radio telescope in the Stanford foothills.
It's used for academic research for the university, but the land is also a recreational area made up of a 4 mile loop for walkers and joggers. I walked most of it (and panted as I'm still getting over a head cold and can't breathe properly), and just enjoyed the beautiful day.
On the way out, I noticed we could see downtown San Francisco and downtown Oakland (the city is the unfocused part thanks to an uncooperative camera).
And, on the way back, I could see both cities again to the north and downtown San Jose to the south.
For those in the Bay area looking for a leisurely walk (or running with some hills and maybe throwing in a few hill repeats) with some nice views, I recommend it. Prior to IM, I spent a lot of time hiking and jogging Rancho San Antonio, but it's all trails and I would be pretty dirty when I got back in my car. Although The Dish is much smaller than Rancho, it is a nice alternative because it's 100% paved.
Training for an Ironman is hard. Yet, here I was dreading taking that first step to do something again. How silly is that? But this little hike (if you can even call it that) was a really nice segue for me to start cross-training in the off season.
What Happens Now?
Last week, a co-worker asked me, "What do you do the first weekend after you finish an Ironman?"
Well, the first weekend was Thankgiving, a 12 hour drive back home, and then hopping on a plane back to LA, so I don't feel I really had much of a weekend. I ate more than my share of taffy. I do know that. Not sure how or why the temporary taffy obsession started, but it's all I wanted those first 7 days after Ironman -- Tangy Taffy, Laffy Taffy, salt water taffy, it didn't matter. I wanted to chew on sugar. And am glad I got that out of my system....
I feel like I just had my first weekend. I stayed at home. I got to drink wine with no guilt or consequences about how it would affect the next day's training. I got my Christmas tree and decorated it. I took my Grandma to lunch and worked on a jigsaw puzzle with her. I had no schedule. And, it was glorious. I owned my weekend.
A few weeks ago, the 2012 Ironteam kicked off and when I saw all the FB posts of what they were doing, I realized I didn't miss it. I loved my experience on that team and the staff, coaches, and teammates helped get me to the finish line. But I guess it really wasn't until March timeframe that I actually started to enjoy being with the team. It made me a little sad to think about and I've been trying to analyze why that is. I think the answer came to me this weekend as I was "owning my weekend" again. When I joined that team, even though I made the choice to do it, I was probably slightly resentful that I didn't own my weekends anymore. It is a really backwards thought, since I wanted to be on the team. It was a sacrifice I made. In addition, the weather sucked November through February. I learned how to ride a bike with no feeling in my feet for those first four months. I think that attributed to my negative feelings as well. And, while I did enjoy the actual time training those first 4 months because it was a team environment and I laughed and played and met a great group of people, I'm glad that I am not doing it again. However, I will be volunteering at their big workouts in 2012 and providing the same support to them that I got last year from other volunteers.
A few people have asked me if I am still going to blog. I have two events the first half of 2012 that I will be training for with some friends. It won't really be an online journal anymore. But I'll probably still be posting here and there. Plus, I'm finally getting to do some activities I kept saying I would do "after IM is over" that I can write about.
Well, the first weekend was Thankgiving, a 12 hour drive back home, and then hopping on a plane back to LA, so I don't feel I really had much of a weekend. I ate more than my share of taffy. I do know that. Not sure how or why the temporary taffy obsession started, but it's all I wanted those first 7 days after Ironman -- Tangy Taffy, Laffy Taffy, salt water taffy, it didn't matter. I wanted to chew on sugar. And am glad I got that out of my system....
I feel like I just had my first weekend. I stayed at home. I got to drink wine with no guilt or consequences about how it would affect the next day's training. I got my Christmas tree and decorated it. I took my Grandma to lunch and worked on a jigsaw puzzle with her. I had no schedule. And, it was glorious. I owned my weekend.
A few weeks ago, the 2012 Ironteam kicked off and when I saw all the FB posts of what they were doing, I realized I didn't miss it. I loved my experience on that team and the staff, coaches, and teammates helped get me to the finish line. But I guess it really wasn't until March timeframe that I actually started to enjoy being with the team. It made me a little sad to think about and I've been trying to analyze why that is. I think the answer came to me this weekend as I was "owning my weekend" again. When I joined that team, even though I made the choice to do it, I was probably slightly resentful that I didn't own my weekends anymore. It is a really backwards thought, since I wanted to be on the team. It was a sacrifice I made. In addition, the weather sucked November through February. I learned how to ride a bike with no feeling in my feet for those first four months. I think that attributed to my negative feelings as well. And, while I did enjoy the actual time training those first 4 months because it was a team environment and I laughed and played and met a great group of people, I'm glad that I am not doing it again. However, I will be volunteering at their big workouts in 2012 and providing the same support to them that I got last year from other volunteers.
A few people have asked me if I am still going to blog. I have two events the first half of 2012 that I will be training for with some friends. It won't really be an online journal anymore. But I'll probably still be posting here and there. Plus, I'm finally getting to do some activities I kept saying I would do "after IM is over" that I can write about.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
3 Seconds of Fame
I know I posted this same sentiment after Vineman, but I am really humbled by all the messages and emails I've been receiving about what I accomplished ~10 days ago. The mind is a very strange organism. It tells you that you can't do something. And then when you do it, it tells you that it wasn't a big deal. Because you did it. Because somewhere along the way, the goal became achievable. I really wish I could get my perspective back about what happened last week. Last year, I was so emotional watching these athletes persevere at IMC and IMAZ. And yet here I am, having been out there on that course for all 17 of the 17 hours, thinking, "Yeah that run wasn't very fun, but it wasn't the hardest thing I've done in my life." (I'm going to guess the 102 mile ride around Clear Lake takes the cake on that one).
My decision to participate in Ironman was an intrinsic one -- to prove to myself that I could make sacrifices; I could surpass my personal limitations; I could be courageous; I could fight. I won't be getting a tattoo or be putting a decal on my car (although I admit I did buy three articles of clothing that say Finisher on them).
The official video was published yesterday and this monologue pretty much sums up my experience:
"You have these goals that seem crazy at a point in time. You think, 'How am I ever going to do this? How am I ever going to overcome this?' And, you just gotta put one foot in front of the other and just keep that going over and over. And before you know it, you're at the finish line."
PS: I made it in the video for about 3 seconds around 5:20.
My decision to participate in Ironman was an intrinsic one -- to prove to myself that I could make sacrifices; I could surpass my personal limitations; I could be courageous; I could fight. I won't be getting a tattoo or be putting a decal on my car (although I admit I did buy three articles of clothing that say Finisher on them).
The official video was published yesterday and this monologue pretty much sums up my experience:
"You have these goals that seem crazy at a point in time. You think, 'How am I ever going to do this? How am I ever going to overcome this?' And, you just gotta put one foot in front of the other and just keep that going over and over. And before you know it, you're at the finish line."
PS: I made it in the video for about 3 seconds around 5:20.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
The Aftermath
Wow....it's over! 12 months of training came to one very exciting and stressful ending.
All I wanted to do after finishing was go home. Forget the massage. Forget the food. After walking home, I couldn't really eat much. I settled for a lot of chocolate milk and a banana.
The shower was probably the most painful shower I've ever had. The chafing from my wetsuit and my heart rate monitor burned like no other. Not to mention the saddle sores.
I put on my compression tights, ice, and tried to stretch, but even that was tough. I thought I'd be exhausted, which I was, but I was also still running on adrenaline and I hurt. I finally fell asleep around 2:30, but was up at 5am. It hurt too much to sleep. Those quiet moments by myself in the morning is when I finally cried about what happened only 5 hours earlier.
We walked down to the merchandise tent before 7am to get in line for finisher's gear, and then went to grab breakfast. I was ravenous. But after half an egg sandwich, I couldn't take anymore. The potatoes made me want to ralph.
We had planned a victory lunch at Oregano's and met my dad, some friends, and our teammates there. I figured it was the perfect place to replenish all those depleted glycogen stores. Unfortunately, after only a few bites of pasta, I was done. And, this was the cycle for the next couple of days --> Feed me right now! Five bites later --> OK, that's enough. Thankfully, my appetite returned just in time for Turkey Day!
As for the pain, I didn't recover as quickly as I wanted to. I have the most disgusting blister under my toenail (yes under) that hindered me from wearing socks and shoes. My compression socks pull on the toe, even with it covered in a bandage so I couldn't really wear them anymore after Monday afternoon. Every day I felt like my legs turned into tree trunks by 7pm. The massage therapist said my muscles were like water balloons and were pulling on my attachments, which is why the knees hurt so much. Other than the knees, the rest of the pain felt like the normal post-weekend muscle tenderness that I was used to. Fortunately, by Wednesday, I no longer had to wince standing up.
What I was most surprised about was how foggy I was mentally. On Monday, every thing was just a big haze. I would receive a text, read it, and then let the phone fall wayside. Then 10 hours later, I would "see" the text as if it was the first time. On Tuesday, I distinctly remember waking up thinking my head was a lot more clear than the day before.
I also had a hard time believing what happened on Sunday. I kept telling Nick that all I could think about was the run. I kept forgetting the fact that I did the run after the swim, and the bike. But I guess that's because I already knew I could swim 2.4 miles and bike 112 miles. I couldn't train for the run like most of the people out there could.
When the official results came out, I saw there were still people that came in after 17:00 and were accepted. Apparently, the official clock did not start until 7:02 am! So I really had 3 minutes left from the cutoff!!!!! It also explains all my confusion with the clocks (my watch was 3 minutes behind, the official clock was two minutes behind, and the pros started 10 minutes before, which is why my watch was 15 minutes different from the race clock). When I told Robin I still had 3 more minutes she said, "Hell no. That time would haunt you!" She's right.
On Thursday, we ended up at an intersection on Curry Rd. and I said to Nick, "Hey, you know this street." I joked about what a "hill" it was. And, then I said to him, "You know, I could do it again." To which he asked, "You could do it again? Or you could train for it again?" I told him I could do it again, but I don't want to train for it again.
Friday, November 25, 2011
IMAZ Race Report - Oh What a Night
The rest of the evening is a blur. I slowly remember bits and pieces as the days go by since last Sunday, which is why I had to compile this race report in small bits.
15 minute miles for 6 miles really should be a piece of cake. But somewhere around Mile 130 my body started to argue with my head an awful lot. Unfortunately, I was way undercaloried at this point. I was running on steam. Because of the tummy trouble, I couldn't take anything in. I tried to eat 5 grapes and would instantly regret it. No fruit, no cookies, no pretzels, no gels. I had to stick to liquids. I kept going back to that sign that said, "pain heals" and I even asked myself, "What are you going to learn about yourself over the next 90 minutes?" Truly, I was curious.
While there is not supposed to be any outside assistance during an Ironman race, pretty much everyone out there on that course that time of night had someone with them. I never expected I would (because I never expected to be cutting it this ridiculously close). But Robin was waiting for me by the lake and she asked what I wanted and I couldn't really answer. Of course I wanted her help. But I wasn't supposed to have any. So she just kept on running next to me (mind you in jeans and with a cinch sack on her back). She made me run to the first aid station, which was only maybe half a mile away, but felt like forever. I kept trying to stop and she just kept saying, "You can walk when we get to the aid station." She told me random stories. I remember something about Edward leaving the course to go to Cabela's (the hunting store) for a sale. She told me how she ran down to the race earlier that day because she had to get a long run in that morning (11 miles) and what she did all day down at the race. I thought to myself that now I was making her run 17 miles today.
15 minute miles for 6 miles really should be a piece of cake. But somewhere around Mile 130 my body started to argue with my head an awful lot. Unfortunately, I was way undercaloried at this point. I was running on steam. Because of the tummy trouble, I couldn't take anything in. I tried to eat 5 grapes and would instantly regret it. No fruit, no cookies, no pretzels, no gels. I had to stick to liquids. I kept going back to that sign that said, "pain heals" and I even asked myself, "What are you going to learn about yourself over the next 90 minutes?" Truly, I was curious.
While there is not supposed to be any outside assistance during an Ironman race, pretty much everyone out there on that course that time of night had someone with them. I never expected I would (because I never expected to be cutting it this ridiculously close). But Robin was waiting for me by the lake and she asked what I wanted and I couldn't really answer. Of course I wanted her help. But I wasn't supposed to have any. So she just kept on running next to me (mind you in jeans and with a cinch sack on her back). She made me run to the first aid station, which was only maybe half a mile away, but felt like forever. I kept trying to stop and she just kept saying, "You can walk when we get to the aid station." She told me random stories. I remember something about Edward leaving the course to go to Cabela's (the hunting store) for a sale. She told me how she ran down to the race earlier that day because she had to get a long run in that morning (11 miles) and what she did all day down at the race. I thought to myself that now I was making her run 17 miles today.
From there we run all the way to the aid station before the "hill." I take in more chicken broth and Pepsi. She starts forcing me to shake my arms and use the gravity of the downhill, and gives me instructions for how to walk through the next aid station to loosen up by legs.
I can't see anything. The lights are so bright. And, I can't hear a thing. The crowd is unlike anything I have ever heard. I never saw Linsey Corbin. And, I never heard Mike Reilly tell me I was an Ironman. I crossed that finish line at 16:59:05. I wanted to enjoy that finish chute. Instead it is all a blur. However, the benefit of finishing in the last two minutes of an Ironman is that there are many videos out on YouTube capturing it all. When I watch the video I see Linsey and I hear Mike Reilly telling me I'm an Ironman. But, it doesn't look like me, even though I know it is. It's a sloppy, messy, tired run. And, an indication that somewhere maybe around mile 137, my mind took over my body.
Random YouTube video of the last two minutes of the finish line
I cross the line and I see why the finish line has volunteers called "catchers." Because that is what they do. My catcher holds on to me for quite some time to make sure I don't need medical attention. I'm wobbly and don't have my balance, but I'm ok. I still can't believe what just happened. As I predicted, I did not cry (I had already told Kristie that I assumed I would cry in the morning before the start, but not at the finish, which is exactly what happened). News flash: I did hear a rumor that even Edward wiped his cheek some. What does make me cry is watching the people behind me in the video. I have no idea where they came from, except for that woman, Tracy, who is right behind me. Sue never made it. :(
Back at home, Jen captured the live video of all my teammates finishing, including Nate, the first to cross, who later proposed to Michelle after she crossed. And, now it all makes sense why both Nate and Michelle's mom, Lorraine, made sure he could shower and change at my parent's place. The best part is the commentary from Mike Reilly about all she really wants is a shower. And, he made a joke to Nick when he finished.
My amazing teammates!
I still haven't processed what happened. It's been hard because I haven't been alone once since Sunday so haven't had much time to think about the magnitude of what I accomplished. But I do know that I couldn't have crossed that line without Nick and Sedonia, who were my sherpas in their own unique ways for the past 12 months, and, of course, Robin, who pushed me to my limits in those last 6 miles.
I was glad I bought the shirt that had my name on it and says, "Anything is possible."
This entire run, I was doing math. Math with my watch. And math with the mile markers. On the first lap, when I saw Mile 10, I would quickly convert (10-8.7 = 1.3). I did this for every single mile marker. Mile 4 on the 2nd loop (8.7+4 = 12.7). As we headed downhill and got back to the water's edge, we ran passed Mile 14 marker and I yelled, "3.5 miles left" and Robin goes, "What are you? Some sort of mathematician?" Yes, I guess so. I was so completely tunnel visioned that last 90 minutes. If only I could count cards and quickly as I was adding or subtracting 8.7 or 17.4 from 26.2 that night. I'd be rich.
I kept asking myself why I couldn't go faster. Did anything hurt? Sure, but I wasn't in any kind of excruciating pain. My heart rate was elevated, but I trained with a heart rate much much higher. Why couldn't I go? Then a woman, Sue, started to pass me. She was 58. I talked to her on the second loop. She was hunched over and she had two people walking with her, pushing her to get to each light post. And, then a girl named Tracy passed me, who was being encouraged by her husband. I was in way better condition than these two were, but I couldn't move any faster (or so I thought). I had brief thoughts about not caring if I finish after midnight. I knew I would still go the 140.6. But those were quickly squashed by drill sergeant Watson. Eventually, we get back to the other side of the water and the volunteer says, "17 minutes for 1.3 miles." I finally start to pick up my speed. Robin runs ahead and yells, "Jessica, I want you to chick this girl!" I had planned to run down the finish chute with an ASU flag that I had previously coordinated with Robin (which was in that cinch sack she had been running with the for past 6 miles). I tell her I don't have time for the flag.
I see a silhouette ahead that I know is Kristie. And I also see Julie. Now all three of them are running with me. Somewhere we pass Sedonia and then my dad. And when I get to the turn that takes me to the finish, there is my other dad, my mom, Natalie, and my brother, and probably others, but again, I don't remember. I just remember yelling something about having to run through a parking lot. The energy, the yelling, the crowd is absolutely insane. We get to Ash Ave and the flag is magically in my hand. I want to carry it above my head the entire chute, but when I try, I realize I can't keep my arms up. I also know it's backwards, but I don't have time to switch it.
Random YouTube video of the last two minutes of the finish line
I cross the line and I see why the finish line has volunteers called "catchers." Because that is what they do. My catcher holds on to me for quite some time to make sure I don't need medical attention. I'm wobbly and don't have my balance, but I'm ok. I still can't believe what just happened. As I predicted, I did not cry (I had already told Kristie that I assumed I would cry in the morning before the start, but not at the finish, which is exactly what happened). News flash: I did hear a rumor that even Edward wiped his cheek some. What does make me cry is watching the people behind me in the video. I have no idea where they came from, except for that woman, Tracy, who is right behind me. Sue never made it. :(
Back at home, Jen captured the live video of all my teammates finishing, including Nate, the first to cross, who later proposed to Michelle after she crossed. And, now it all makes sense why both Nate and Michelle's mom, Lorraine, made sure he could shower and change at my parent's place. The best part is the commentary from Mike Reilly about all she really wants is a shower. And, he made a joke to Nick when he finished.
My amazing teammates!
The best fans a girl could ask for....
I still haven't processed what happened. It's been hard because I haven't been alone once since Sunday so haven't had much time to think about the magnitude of what I accomplished. But I do know that I couldn't have crossed that line without Nick and Sedonia, who were my sherpas in their own unique ways for the past 12 months, and, of course, Robin, who pushed me to my limits in those last 6 miles.
I was glad I bought the shirt that had my name on it and says, "Anything is possible."
IMAZ Race Report - The Shuffle
The Women's Change Tent was nearly empty when I ran in. A great volunteer dumped my bag and helped me get dressed. I gave her my reflective stickers and told her to put a happy face on my back. Apparently, these stickers are not easy to break away from the peeling. You're never supposed to try anything new on race day, right? Lesson learned. At one point, I said, "Ok, I'll just go" but she said she was getting them so I started helping her peel. I ran out of the tent and saw the running clock at 10:00. I asked the girl how fast it was and she did not know. I found some guy and asked if it was 10 minutes fast. He told me it was 15 minutes fast. I still have no idea since my watch is supposedly 3 minutes behind (unless the first volunteer just gave me an approximate time). And, now the clock confusion is going to continue with me for the rest of the evening.
The first person I see is Klayton (and he even got the reflective happy face captured).
I give him a high five and then I see Kyle and Lisa. There were SOOOO many people in that first half mile. I wasn't feeling great, but I couldn't help but smile. This big black woman was cheering me on yelling something about my big bootie. She made me laugh and I took it as a compliment.
I get to the first aid station (Pirate theme), fill my bottle, grab a wet sponge and wipe all the salt crust off my face. *sigh* Then I see the rest of my family and friends out there. At this point, I am just waiting to get my legs back. My legs felt much worse after Vineman than they did here, but I just couldn't seem to propel myself forward the way I wanted to. I was supposed to be doing 4/1s and my body was giving out after 2 minutes. So I tried to keep 2/1s. I kept telling my body that this was only 7 hours of my lifetime and it would all be over soon and to keep on going. It was on this first stretch where I was just being passed by MASSES of people. Most of them were starting their second loop. It didn't bother me, but it made it very clear how slow I was actually going. I knew I was 20 minutes behind where I wanted to be and calculated that I could still finish if I managed 2:20 for each loop (I wanted 2:30 and based on practice run/walks I knew I was capable of 2:10s). I began to get overwhelmed by my lack of an extra 20 minutes and also by the awful feeling in my stomach. I could see an aid station on the other side of the lake and I knew I needed to get to that bathroom.
I wish I could keep bathroom humor out of this post, but unfortunately, it played a large role in the evening so I have to include it. I found it very fitting that as I rounded the corner, there was sign that said, "You're a winner today if you haven't pooped your pants yet." And, all I could think was, "let's hope it stays that way." Someone runs into the port-a-potty just before me and I'm so antsy -- worrying about time for the run and especially worrying about the rumbling in my tummy. It's finally my turn, I feel a little better, and start my run again. (Note: I found this tweet from Professional Jordan Rapp who dropped out during the bike after the race: "Deciding to drop out is significantly harder than deciding to race 90mi sitting in your own shit. Felt off before swim, but gave it a go." See....it gets even the best of them!)
Unfortunately, at this point, I am worried. As easy as it was to let the swim go that morning, I couldn't let that 20 minutes on the bike go. And, I really needed to just care about what I needed to do now and not on what happened earlier. I see my teammates and I tear up a little. Emily assured me I had enough time. She reminded me that she had a foot injury in Canada and she walked her marathon, too, and that I would be ok. I needed that.
On the backside of the lake, there was a tent with volunteers massaging some gel on people's aches and pains. I had her get my knees. Whether it was because my teammate, Jen, told me it invigorated her last year once she got to that tent, or whether it actually did, I started to feel better. As I walked across Mill Ave bridge, the South Bay Ironteam coach, Ron, walked with me. He stopped to talk to his team and I kept going. Then I saw Robin. She ran with me for a few minutes and she said I was running at a good pace and if I kept that pace, I would be fine. She reminded me to just focus on what needed to get done and not on what happened. Shortly after that, I let go of the bike ride. On the other side of the water, Ron caught up with me (I truly love and appreciate that he is there just to enjoy the day and stops to chit chat). He showed me where my name was on the ground because I really hadn't been paying attention.
It was a nice boost. And on the one "hill" that is on this course, which really isn't much of one, I found my girls again. I'd say this is the quintessential picture of the day. You can tell I am worried and I am getting a talk from Sedonia (with those awesome cartoon hands she's wearing) about how I just need to focus.
Shortly after that I saw Molly and she asked how I was doing. I told her I was having tummy trouble. She replied, "Been there, done that already today" and she offered me her Pepto, which I gladly accepted.
Emily, Grace, Sedonia, Dana, and Helen had chalked the hill earlier that day and I found the Honey Badger as well as my name again.
My tummy was still upset and I had to make another bathroom stop at the "70s" themed aid station. From there, it was the "DUI Task Force" aid station where the Hamburglar chased me down and a sexy cop spanked me with her night stick. The next 4 miles were good and I ran most of them. I went back through town and saw Julie and Chrissy as I was starting my second loop. Julie told me my Facebook was blowing up because everyone was posting on my page. I felt so humbled thinking that people would be watching me from afar, other than my family and teammates. The big black woman from earlier actually stood up and came over to shake my hand and said something else about my big bootie. It was so noisy I couldn't really hear everything, but she made me laugh again. And then I saw my family congregated in front of my mom's house (which is on the run course). I forgot to mention they made awesome banners hanging from the building for us.
Natasha, Nick's sister, ran with me for a few minutes and then I was off again. I was still hesitant with taking in food so I stuck to chicken broth and Pepsi (Ugh...I'm a Coke girl). There was a sign on this side that said, "Pain heals" and I had to remind myself this was true. I stopped to get massaged one more time (this time in my lower back) and ran through the Inspiration Station where this came up on the board.
I stop at Special Needs and grab my bag of goodies -- some gels with caffeine in them and some very sugary candy (grape Jolly Joes). About 2 miles later, a guy ran up behind me and told me I looked really strong. I told him it was because it was my second lap. He said it didn't matter and that I looked a lot better than most people out there. This was a boost. Another bathroom stop at the Disco station and then on to the DUI Task Force aid station again. I told them I was going to be back in 2 hours and they said they would be there waiting.
On the Rural bridge, I hear, "Hi Jessie" and it was Phil. He was finishing up his third loop. I ran with him for all of maybe four minutes and couldn't keep up after that. There is a 10:15 cutoff time for the 3rd loop, except there is no timing mat. I start to freak out about the mat because the only timing mat I know of is 2.5 miles away on the other side of the lake. I see Robin and I ask her about the cutoff. We start to ask volunteers and no one seems to know the answer. Is it a random spot at Transition? Or is it the timing mat on the other side of the lake? Robin is trying to tell me to just focus and not worry about it. She leaves to go find the answer. I see Chrissy and I tell her that I am going to give everyone a heart attack. I think it was around 9:45 so I have 2.25 hours left to complete 8.7 miles. Very doable. But my body was starting to shut down.
I don't see my family this time around, but someone comes hobbling up to me and it's Nick. I yell at him because he just finished 140.6 miles and he shouldn't be out here anymore. Robin catches up and tells me that the cutoff was, in fact, behind me and not at the mat on the other side of the lake. *relief* She asks what I need and I tell her people on the other side of the bridge. I'm running with some guys and I yell out to anyone that will listen, "I've never run more than 13.1 miles!" One guy turns around and says, "And you picked TODAY to do that for the first time?!?!"
I get to the foot path under Mill and there is Chrissy and Kerry with sparklers!!! I can't believe they busted out fireworks for me! It was awesome, even though I couldn't really show my appreciation at the time. And when I went to cross the bridge, Natalie, Julie, Mike, Heidi, Bryce, and my mom all run with me across it (they had strict orders from Robin not to let me walk). My mom tells me that Robin was going to hook up with me down on the other side. I make the turn and see Sedonia. It is 10:30. I tell her that I have to bust out 15 minute miles for 6 miles if I want to finish on time. She says, "I'm not going to lie. It's going to hurt. But you can do this."
And, this is where everything got foggy...
The first person I see is Klayton (and he even got the reflective happy face captured).
I give him a high five and then I see Kyle and Lisa. There were SOOOO many people in that first half mile. I wasn't feeling great, but I couldn't help but smile. This big black woman was cheering me on yelling something about my big bootie. She made me laugh and I took it as a compliment.
I get to the first aid station (Pirate theme), fill my bottle, grab a wet sponge and wipe all the salt crust off my face. *sigh* Then I see the rest of my family and friends out there. At this point, I am just waiting to get my legs back. My legs felt much worse after Vineman than they did here, but I just couldn't seem to propel myself forward the way I wanted to. I was supposed to be doing 4/1s and my body was giving out after 2 minutes. So I tried to keep 2/1s. I kept telling my body that this was only 7 hours of my lifetime and it would all be over soon and to keep on going. It was on this first stretch where I was just being passed by MASSES of people. Most of them were starting their second loop. It didn't bother me, but it made it very clear how slow I was actually going. I knew I was 20 minutes behind where I wanted to be and calculated that I could still finish if I managed 2:20 for each loop (I wanted 2:30 and based on practice run/walks I knew I was capable of 2:10s). I began to get overwhelmed by my lack of an extra 20 minutes and also by the awful feeling in my stomach. I could see an aid station on the other side of the lake and I knew I needed to get to that bathroom.
I wish I could keep bathroom humor out of this post, but unfortunately, it played a large role in the evening so I have to include it. I found it very fitting that as I rounded the corner, there was sign that said, "You're a winner today if you haven't pooped your pants yet." And, all I could think was, "let's hope it stays that way." Someone runs into the port-a-potty just before me and I'm so antsy -- worrying about time for the run and especially worrying about the rumbling in my tummy. It's finally my turn, I feel a little better, and start my run again. (Note: I found this tweet from Professional Jordan Rapp who dropped out during the bike after the race: "Deciding to drop out is significantly harder than deciding to race 90mi sitting in your own shit. Felt off before swim, but gave it a go." See....it gets even the best of them!)
Unfortunately, at this point, I am worried. As easy as it was to let the swim go that morning, I couldn't let that 20 minutes on the bike go. And, I really needed to just care about what I needed to do now and not on what happened earlier. I see my teammates and I tear up a little. Emily assured me I had enough time. She reminded me that she had a foot injury in Canada and she walked her marathon, too, and that I would be ok. I needed that.
Emily, Grace, Sedonia, Dana, and Helen had chalked the hill earlier that day and I found the Honey Badger as well as my name again.
My tummy was still upset and I had to make another bathroom stop at the "70s" themed aid station. From there, it was the "DUI Task Force" aid station where the Hamburglar chased me down and a sexy cop spanked me with her night stick. The next 4 miles were good and I ran most of them. I went back through town and saw Julie and Chrissy as I was starting my second loop. Julie told me my Facebook was blowing up because everyone was posting on my page. I felt so humbled thinking that people would be watching me from afar, other than my family and teammates. The big black woman from earlier actually stood up and came over to shake my hand and said something else about my big bootie. It was so noisy I couldn't really hear everything, but she made me laugh again. And then I saw my family congregated in front of my mom's house (which is on the run course). I forgot to mention they made awesome banners hanging from the building for us.
On the Rural bridge, I hear, "Hi Jessie" and it was Phil. He was finishing up his third loop. I ran with him for all of maybe four minutes and couldn't keep up after that. There is a 10:15 cutoff time for the 3rd loop, except there is no timing mat. I start to freak out about the mat because the only timing mat I know of is 2.5 miles away on the other side of the lake. I see Robin and I ask her about the cutoff. We start to ask volunteers and no one seems to know the answer. Is it a random spot at Transition? Or is it the timing mat on the other side of the lake? Robin is trying to tell me to just focus and not worry about it. She leaves to go find the answer. I see Chrissy and I tell her that I am going to give everyone a heart attack. I think it was around 9:45 so I have 2.25 hours left to complete 8.7 miles. Very doable. But my body was starting to shut down.
I don't see my family this time around, but someone comes hobbling up to me and it's Nick. I yell at him because he just finished 140.6 miles and he shouldn't be out here anymore. Robin catches up and tells me that the cutoff was, in fact, behind me and not at the mat on the other side of the lake. *relief* She asks what I need and I tell her people on the other side of the bridge. I'm running with some guys and I yell out to anyone that will listen, "I've never run more than 13.1 miles!" One guy turns around and says, "And you picked TODAY to do that for the first time?!?!"
I get to the foot path under Mill and there is Chrissy and Kerry with sparklers!!! I can't believe they busted out fireworks for me! It was awesome, even though I couldn't really show my appreciation at the time. And when I went to cross the bridge, Natalie, Julie, Mike, Heidi, Bryce, and my mom all run with me across it (they had strict orders from Robin not to let me walk). My mom tells me that Robin was going to hook up with me down on the other side. I make the turn and see Sedonia. It is 10:30. I tell her that I have to bust out 15 minute miles for 6 miles if I want to finish on time. She says, "I'm not going to lie. It's going to hurt. But you can do this."
And, this is where everything got foggy...
Thursday, November 24, 2011
IMAZ Race Report - It's a Sunshine Day
Originally, the weather looked like it was going to rain on Sunday. However, it changed a few days before the race and I was pretty happy that I didn't have to worry about extra clothing for the bike ride. This portion of the day was pretty uneventful, other than I became obsessed with time and it was the onset of some GI issues that would haunt me that evening.
My focus of the first ride was to ignore everyone passing me. I also knew that based from my experience at Vineman, I couldn't stop nearly as much "just because" if I wanted to make my goal, which was 7:30 (2.5 hours per loop). One thing I have been really good about this whole training season is forgetting about the swim I had prior to bike. So while my swim was decent, that part of the day was over and essentially forgotten about. I was present with the bike portion.
I just assumed the first loop would be easiest and that the wind would be prevalent in the afternoon. However, I quickly learned that I could only go about 11mph. While this course is flat, it is a 1% grade on the outbound with only a very small 3% grade at the turnaround. The small incline with the headwind were working together against me and I just assumed I would make up the time on my way back with a tailwind. It took me 90 minutes to get to the turnaround, where I got to see Chrissy, Kerry, Steve, and Debbie cheering for me!
Since I didn't know the real time, I had to use my bike computer to gauge my time. Luckily, I got the tailwind on the way back and was just short of my 2:30 goal by only 2 minutes. I got to see Karri and Mark at one of the turns on McClintock, my dad and Cathy on Rio Salado near Sun Devil Stadium, and then the most obnoxious cheering from my Iron teammates at the turnaround. Their crazy green and purple, jump splitting, dancing selves were incredible and gave me so much energy.
The turnaround had a clock that said 4:11 and my watch said 3:57. Was I really 14 minutes behind? Or did that include the pro start of 6:50am rather than the AG start at 7am? I became obsessive/compulsive with time. All I did for 112 miles was read my bike computer, subtract the time I spent at the aid stations and try to interpret my inaccurate watch time against the bike computer.
From there, I saw Dad, Cathy, Karri, and Mark again on the way out of town.
The focus of my second loop was to eat and take in the calories. My coach said that how I felt at mile 50 would be my barometer for the day. And, I really felt ok. The wind switched so I got the wind in my favor on the way out. I had been drinking a lot and my first pit stop was necessary. I waited for an open potty (of course not until I walked in on someone else who did not lock his door). I still did not know the real time, so I asked the volunteer holding my bike to get me the real time by the time I got out of the port-a-potty. He said it was 11:45 so I was hoping that meant my watch was only 3 minutes behind. This was going to be critical for later.
My knees were hurting a little at this point. I took 3 Advils as a precaution. I heard a girl on the way back say, "Are we turning yet?" and by the tone of her voice, I wondered if that meant the wind sucked. About 11 miles later, I got to the turnaround and saw Kerry and Chrissy again. Literally, the very second I turned around, I couldn't hear anything anymore because the wind was so loud. I pushed through the rest of that loop and saw my mom, who was volunteering at one of the aid stations. She yelled she was worried about me, but when I looked at the time, I felt like I was still pretty close to my goal. I made it back to town and saw my brother, his friend, and Kyle and Lisa.
I also saw those crazy Ironteammers again and baby Sophia with her Ironteam Flames.
Rinse and repeat, right? I had to stop again for the potty and took another 3 Advil (maybe this wasn't a good idea, but I didn't know it at the time). The one thing I noticed was that I had this whole arsenal of positivity to tap into for this ride -- songs to sing, funny things to think about, positive memories for the year, and my mantras. I didn't have to use any of them. I was happy. When the wind came, I didn't say, "Oh, I hate the &^*%ing wind" like I usually do. I just rode. I'm thinking my obsession with the whole clock/watch issue kept me distracted from any negativity. I also got to see all my teammates. I saw Nick on most of the legs and caught Michelle and Phil on all of them. I busted out my volcano-blowing-up hand signal that Phil and I made up a couple months ago. And, I laughed when Nick did the volcano thing to me on the last loop. I yelled "Go Team" to more people than I wanted to, but it was another way of keeping my focus on the good stuff.
Unfortunately, around Mile 90, my tummy started to act up. 12 months of training and I can't say I ever had any GI issues. Why today? The next day, I realized it was probably the Advil tearing up my stomach on nothing but Gu Brew and bananas. But I didn't know that at the time. I saw Kerry and Chrissy again and slowed down to ask if they had any stomach stuff, which they didn't. I was still happy. I just wanted to fix the problem. Another bathroom stop, in hopes of alleviating the pain, but I had nothing to give. This portion of the ride was significantly slower because of the discomfort. I always heard of this happening to others and now I finally understood....
So I made my way back to town, saw my mom at the aid station, who got the message from Kerry and Chrissy and tried to give me some Tums. I lowered my gears and increased my cadence for the last few miles and focused on alternating between heel down and toe down so that I could prepare my feet for the run. With my foot injury, it was imperative that I start preparing my plantar fascia and heel spur for the next portion of the day, even if that meant going 1mph slower. I rolled back into town and I was around 20 minutes behind where I wanted to be. I didn't have time to do much math at that moment, but I remember not worrying about it right then. I hopped off my bike and saw all my family and friends there, including my other dad, which was a total surprise.
I did the whole double take, yelled, "Dad, what are you doing here?!?!" and handed my bike to a volunteer. From there, I grabbed my run bag and ran into the Women's Change Tent.
My focus of the first ride was to ignore everyone passing me. I also knew that based from my experience at Vineman, I couldn't stop nearly as much "just because" if I wanted to make my goal, which was 7:30 (2.5 hours per loop). One thing I have been really good about this whole training season is forgetting about the swim I had prior to bike. So while my swim was decent, that part of the day was over and essentially forgotten about. I was present with the bike portion.
I just assumed the first loop would be easiest and that the wind would be prevalent in the afternoon. However, I quickly learned that I could only go about 11mph. While this course is flat, it is a 1% grade on the outbound with only a very small 3% grade at the turnaround. The small incline with the headwind were working together against me and I just assumed I would make up the time on my way back with a tailwind. It took me 90 minutes to get to the turnaround, where I got to see Chrissy, Kerry, Steve, and Debbie cheering for me!
The turnaround had a clock that said 4:11 and my watch said 3:57. Was I really 14 minutes behind? Or did that include the pro start of 6:50am rather than the AG start at 7am? I became obsessive/compulsive with time. All I did for 112 miles was read my bike computer, subtract the time I spent at the aid stations and try to interpret my inaccurate watch time against the bike computer.
From there, I saw Dad, Cathy, Karri, and Mark again on the way out of town.
The focus of my second loop was to eat and take in the calories. My coach said that how I felt at mile 50 would be my barometer for the day. And, I really felt ok. The wind switched so I got the wind in my favor on the way out. I had been drinking a lot and my first pit stop was necessary. I waited for an open potty (of course not until I walked in on someone else who did not lock his door). I still did not know the real time, so I asked the volunteer holding my bike to get me the real time by the time I got out of the port-a-potty. He said it was 11:45 so I was hoping that meant my watch was only 3 minutes behind. This was going to be critical for later.
My knees were hurting a little at this point. I took 3 Advils as a precaution. I heard a girl on the way back say, "Are we turning yet?" and by the tone of her voice, I wondered if that meant the wind sucked. About 11 miles later, I got to the turnaround and saw Kerry and Chrissy again. Literally, the very second I turned around, I couldn't hear anything anymore because the wind was so loud. I pushed through the rest of that loop and saw my mom, who was volunteering at one of the aid stations. She yelled she was worried about me, but when I looked at the time, I felt like I was still pretty close to my goal. I made it back to town and saw my brother, his friend, and Kyle and Lisa.
I also saw those crazy Ironteammers again and baby Sophia with her Ironteam Flames.
Unfortunately, around Mile 90, my tummy started to act up. 12 months of training and I can't say I ever had any GI issues. Why today? The next day, I realized it was probably the Advil tearing up my stomach on nothing but Gu Brew and bananas. But I didn't know that at the time. I saw Kerry and Chrissy again and slowed down to ask if they had any stomach stuff, which they didn't. I was still happy. I just wanted to fix the problem. Another bathroom stop, in hopes of alleviating the pain, but I had nothing to give. This portion of the ride was significantly slower because of the discomfort. I always heard of this happening to others and now I finally understood....
So I made my way back to town, saw my mom at the aid station, who got the message from Kerry and Chrissy and tried to give me some Tums. I lowered my gears and increased my cadence for the last few miles and focused on alternating between heel down and toe down so that I could prepare my feet for the run. With my foot injury, it was imperative that I start preparing my plantar fascia and heel spur for the next portion of the day, even if that meant going 1mph slower. I rolled back into town and I was around 20 minutes behind where I wanted to be. I didn't have time to do much math at that moment, but I remember not worrying about it right then. I hopped off my bike and saw all my family and friends there, including my other dad, which was a total surprise.
I did the whole double take, yelled, "Dad, what are you doing here?!?!" and handed my bike to a volunteer. From there, I grabbed my run bag and ran into the Women's Change Tent.
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