First big snow...

Hubby and I are hunkered down at home tonight.

We are getting our first "significant" snow for the winter 2011/2012 season. Ultimately, we are supposed to get about 3 inches of the fluffy stuff....so, all in all, not that much, but......just not really ready for it. Even if it is December 3rd and we do live in Minnesota.

Not a lot of changes to report.

Oscar is doing well. Tolerating his medicine, playing like a kitten and appearing to be totally healthy. Yea on that one.

STILL no word on what is happening with my job. We were supposed to know by the end of October ==, er.....no, November.... errrrr..... um, at this point, who knows when the final decision will be made. I have had a couple of interviews for the positions I've posted for, but no word for any of us on next steps since before Thanksgiving.

Speaking of Thanksgiving, Hubby and I took our annual trip to California to spend the holiday with my brother and his family. My younger sister and her husband came too.... our older sister wasn't able to travel this year, and I was sad about her not being able to join us.

We spent a lot of time at Stinson Beach -- walking the beach, watching the sunsets, running outside, hanging with family. It was great. I absolutely love that part of the country and if I could figure out a way to live there, I'd be there in a heartbeat.

My running continues to improve (yea), but I've been very lazy about doing much else. I "blame" travel, but what it really boils down to is the need for some time off.

But December 1st marked the ten-month countdown start to IMoo, so it is time to get my arse back in the pool and back in the saddle.

I am finalizing my race plans for next year -- have registered for a few events already and am looking forward to a healthy, injury free, happy 2012.

How about YOU?

Muy short and sweet

My last few posts have been pretty L O N G and involved.

This one should be pretty short and sweet....just a "catch up", really.

I just got back from spending some time in Naples, Florida. I was there for work, facilitating a workshop for about 25 sales people attending a 2012 Planning Offsite. (The offsite was held at a Ritz Carlton resort. Muy fancy. Muy nice. Muy expensive.....)

But the muy-est part of the trip was that I got a chance to see a very good friend of mine that moved to Naples five years ago -- Mary B.

Mary B and I met a long time ago, when we were both training to run Grandma's Marathon. We became fast, furious friends. Ran many a race together; did a lot of training together. She and her husband, Trevor, were two of a handful of friends that came to Las Vegas to attend Hubby's and my wedding....

Shortly after we were married, Trevor found a work opportunity too good to pass up that required them to move to Naples, so off they went.

Mary and I stayed in touch over the years, but we hadn't seen each other since they left Minneapolis, so it was wonderful to be able to see each other while I was in Naples.

We had dinner last night and then Mary and I got together for a run this morning. It was like old times, trotting together and sharing the details of our lives. It was muy great.

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Oscar seems to be holding his own. The medicine is keeping any fluids build up at bay and he is playing, eating and sleeping just like a 'normal' cat. He goes back in for a check up next week and I'm hoping that the disease hasn't progressed much or, better yet, that the vet made a big fat mistake and that he is fine. "More will be revealed". Muy bien.

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I had two interviews this week for jobs -- these were the standard, behavior-based questions that are routine for first interviews.

"Tell me about a time when you XXXX (successfully managed a project; had to build relationships with multiple business lines; had to deliver training to an audience that wasn't receptive, etc.). What did you to to YYYY (make it successful; ensure success; bridge gaps; identify opportunities, etc.".

Second interviews will be scheduled for after Thanksgiving, it looks like my job status will be a bit unsettled in to early December now. Still keeping my fingers muy crossed for the best.
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Speaking of Thanksgiving, I've been putting together a list of all the things I'm grateful for and am trying to review it -- and add to it -- every day.

On the top of my list is being grateful for having my health, because I know that without that, nothing else matters. Muy amen.

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Finally, my birthday is coming up. I'll finally be my 2011 USA Triathlon age -- for a few weeks, anyway. I was supposed to go to North Dakota on a girl's road trip with some friends to visit Nat, but the weather is not supposed to cooperate. So now the birthday plan is to get in a workout or two, have some cake and be very, very low key.

Sounds muy perfect.

Faith and the "New Normal"

If you pick up a newspaper, watch the news or work for pretty much any corporation in the United States, you are familiar with the term "New Normal".

It seems to mostly be associated with the economy; with the ways and means we are supposed to be getting the economic engine revving again so that people can go back to work and companies can see profits and stock prices rise. (Or, as it really seems to mean, so that companies can see profits and stock prices rise and then people can go back to work...).

Yet, no one -- not the politicians, not the heads of corporations, not most individuals -- seem to be able to define with the term really means.

What is NORMAL these days?

I believe most of us are just trying to find some stable ground again. Ground that feels solid for longer than a day or two. So we find ourselves sort of waiting it out...applying approaches from total denial to those that are difficult (right sizing; closing doors; leaving jobs/houses).

The New Normal is hard enough to define this on a macro-level -- figuring out the world at large. It is equally as difficult to define this on a micro-level -- figuring out what it means within our little lives.

Which brings me to Oscar, our 11-month old kitten.

We adopted Oscar and his sister, Kishka, last March on Hubby's birthday. The kittens were one of six that had been born in January.

After losing Kirby, Hubby's cat, very suddenly a year earlier, we finally had healed enough and decided to bring two more cats in to our house to join us, Lefty and Callie.

Hubby's son's girlfriend had a friend with a cat that had delivered a litter and after we saw pictures of the fuzz balls, we decided it was time to add to our brood.

Kishka, named after the famed Polish polka song, "Who Stole the Kishka", got her name because she too is "round and firm and fully packed". She is the smaller of the two, black and white and adorable.

Oscar is grey and fluffy. He is as outgoing and as social as they come. Loves people, loves to be in the thick of things. Loves me (follows me every where; sleeps near my head).

We have loved having them in the house and, although it took a bit of time, Lefty and Callie seem to be happy to have them with us too.

Last Saturday, we started our then "normal" day. Woke up, ate breakfast and started our day. I took some time to watch some t.v. and have some coffee and Oscar joined me on the couch.

When I got up to really get going in my day, Oscar stayed put. Slightly unusual, but nothing alarming. As the day went on, though he really didn't budge. Slightly alarming. I ran an errand and after I got home, Hubby was sitting on the couch next to Oscar.

"Has he moved since you got home?", I asked.

"Not that I noticed", replied Hubby. Now more alarming.

I noticed that Oscar's breathing was a bit labored. We decided that he must have eaten something that didn't agree with him and that he was merely sleeping it off.

We ran one more errand and when we got home on hour later, Oscar's breathing was much worse and we knew it was time to take him in to the Vet.

We've had lots of experience taking our cats in to the University of Minnesota Vet Hospital. Ungodly expensive, but the best care in the region, as far as I'm concerned.

Oscar went in about 8:00 pm and they immediately put him in oxygen and started to try to diagnose.

He wasn't stable enough for them to do much that night, but they did take an x-ay which indicated fluid around his heart, which meant either pneumonia or heart failure.

What? Heart failure? The cat is only 11-months old! How can his heart be old enough to fail? With two older cats in the family, I knew it was only a matter of time before their time would come, but OSCAR?

The news stupefied us.

We left Oscar at the U -- they started a course of diuretics to reduce the fluid and we hoped for the best.

On Sunday morning, the Vet called and said that his condition had improved dramatically (!). They were able to run a few more tests and when the called with the results, the news was bad.

Oscar has a congenital form of hypertrophic cardiomyopathy == a condition which causes the heart ventricles to become thick, which weakens the heart, which can cause heart failure.

Heart failure in cats is not curable, and we are now looking at a dramatically shortened lifespan for this tiny, loving cat. The worst case scenario gives Oscar about 3 months. The best, not much more than that, but as the Vet says, "Cats like to prove us wrong". I'm keeping my paws crossed....

What we can do, is to lessen the likelihood of fluid buildup by giving Oscar two small dosages of Lasix (a diuretic) and we can make him happy and comfortable for as long as we can.

A routine we have to build in to our "new normal" of daily life and activities.

For now, Oscar is "normal". He is eating, drinking, playing, purring and still as cuddly as ever. You wouldn't guess that there is any thing wrong with him at all. (My 'normal' reaction to this is, naturally: the diagnosis was wrong; he is fine. Some might call this denial....).


But I'm going to hold on to this for as long as I can because I can.

Before his diagnosis, I envisioned how Hubby and my lives would continue to progress as time moved us forward.

We'd continue to work (in my fantasy, I would retain my job -- a situation that is still up in the air); we'd continue to travel, to golf, I'd still do tris until I started to really look bad in spandex -- eventually we'd retire and we'd spend half the year some where warm.

In all of the scenarios that I envisioned, Oscar and Kishka were there with us, growing older with us, sharing experiences and life with us.

Now, even my future fantasy scenarios are impacted by the "new normal".

I am not happy about this -- not one bit.

What I do need to try to lean on, though, is the same thing I've been trying to lean on through all the other adjustments I've been trying to make to try to embrace the macro-New Normal -- faith.

Not the "religious" type of faith....that isn't my thing. Rather faith in that universe knows what it's doing. That there is a reason for every thing and that some how, some way it will all be okay. The outcomes may not be (and in this case definitely won't be) what I want them to be, but that there is a rhyme and reason for all things.

This belief is so easy when times are easy. Not so much when times are tough.

But I'm trying my best to believe and trying to embrace the New Normal.

Euphemisms and Lessons Learned

While I am having a very hard time wrapping my head around the fact that it is OCTOBER, we happen to be having unseasonably warm weather this week -- temps are in the 80s, so the fact that the year has flown by so quickly is a little easier to take.

The leaves are also almost in full peak colors, so it is really, really beautiful outside.

Unfortunately, I've had to spend the bulk of every day working -- but I have been able to get on my bike and to walk outside a bit each day.

Tomorrow, I also get to spend the day on the golf course, playing a round as part of a Community Support event sponsored by the company I work for....I'm very, very much looking forward to this. I really need a little time to be outside and to breathe.

The stress level has ratcheted up in a big way since Ironman.

I work for a big company. I've worked for this big company for a lot of years. I've been happy, productive and successful.

I've been lucky.

I found out shortly before the race that, in an effort to "reduce redundancies and increase efficiencies", that my position was "mapped" to a new work team. And, although I've been "mapped", I haven't yet been "selected", meaning I may have a job; I may not.

I didn't have a choice. The group I worked for didn't have a choice. I just got the call one day from HR and that was that.

On the one hand, I am grateful that I'm still in the game, so to speak. I haven't been "displaced". It is "business as usual" for the time being, until the yet-unsubstantiated "selection" process is defined.

But nothing about this is usual. I don't know what criteria will be used to determine if I have a job or not (meaning do I interview? Do I have a choice about the job? The work?). I don't know, if I get "displaced", what terms will be presented to help keep me afloat.

I've been told that I shouldn't worry. That with my talent, my skills and my abilities, that I'll have a job and all will be well.

Yet, every day that goes by, I find out about other talented, skillful colleagues have been offered a "package" and are out the door. Lesson: there are no guarantees.

I'm resentful because I didn't ask for this. I'm resentful because I'm worried and there are less qualified people that remain with the business that aren't in this position at all. I'm resentful because the recession, which was supposed to be over a long time ago, isn't. I'm resentful because the politicians just keep playing politics, instead of getting real work done.

(I mean really: debate of gay marriage? Why aren't they creating jobs? Looking at alternative energy? Looking at education reform? Changing any thing of real importance? WHY IS BACHMANN GETTING ANY ATTENTION at ALL?).

I know that I'm not the only person that has gone through this over the last few years. I have been lucky to have a job through some very rough economic periods. I'm lucky that I have no debt (outside a mortgage payment) and that Hubby's job seems secure for now. The best luck I have on my side, though, is my health, for without that, I'd be really in trouble.

I should know by the end of October which direction Compass will point me...I'll either have a job or I won't. I just have to hold on and to try not to let the stress get too much of me.

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In the midst of all of this, I decided to hire a new Coach --Actually, he is an "old" coach of mine. I used him when Nat and I trained for our first half ironman.

I've been lucky to work with a lot of really great coaches over the years. The coach that I used for the last two years is utterly awesome. Love him. But, I never felt that I was an athlete that was in his league. The most of his folks are podium finishers; die-hards; naturally talented.

I struggled this last year to get much attention from him and by the time Imoo rolled around, I was well trained, but felt incredibly detached from him, and honestly, that hurt a lot.

Right before I left for Madison, out of the blue, I received an email from my half-iron coach. He sent me good luck wishes for a great race.

When I was out on the run course, he was there, cheering with the crowds. He spotted me and came out to give me a great big hug. He knew, based on the clock, that I was cutting it close, but he gave me a little pep talk and sent me on my way.

When I got back to Minneapolis, after my DNF, I thought for a L O N G about what my plan for 2012 should be. I decided to go back to Greg. We started our training plan this week.

I guess what I've learned from this experience, that it is very hard to "fire" someone. I struggled for a long time about moving from one Coach to another.

When the time came, I just had to tell the truth, though. That it was better for me to work with someone that could provide me more attention; that worked more effectively with people of my ability and skills. That it was nothing personal.

Lesson learned: If I see HR show up at my office with "that look", I hope they can tell me the truth and not try to just cover the facts with a lot of pretty words.

Oh. And it's just business. It's nothing personal....

Changes, Recovery and Refocus

It certainly didn't take long for the season to start changing from summer to fall. The temps have dropped dramatically; leaves are starting to change and it is dark by 7:30 pm now.

Recover week means doing very little but resting, eating, sleeping and resting some more. I have to say that, while I'm enjoying some longer snoozes in the morning, I am looking forward to getting back to some easy "maintenance" workouts.

I'll go to watch my friend Mary's son play in his high school homecoming football game on Friday night, I'll golf on Saturday and on Sunday I plan to join some friends for what is sure to be one of the last open water swims for this year.

I can start doing some short runs again soon; won't be long before I get back on the bike, but really only just for fun now, as the 2011 season draws to a close.

I will do a couple other races this year: The Monster 10 miler; maybe the Reindeer Run 5K and maybe one on or near New Year's Day....

I'll also be able to register for Tri U Mah 2012 on October 1st and can doing some 2012 event planning soon, as a number of races I want to do have already landed on dates and some have early registration open.

I'm giving some thought to training plans for 2012 -- where to do Masters swims; training program and coaching options; race ideas. No decisions yet. Just kicking around some ideas.

Changes abound right now. Professionally, personally, seasonally and athletically. Should be interesting to see how they all unfold.

DNF but okay with it....

Yes, it is true.

I pulled out of IM WI yesterday at mile 14 of the marathon, at about 9:05 pm.

Second year attempting to cross the line. Second DNF.

I made the decision to pull out after figuring that there would be no way I could run a negative split to get to the finish before the magic midnight hour. (Had "run" the first half in about 3 hours and 15 minutes or so.... and it was not pretty).

In making the decision, I had to be sure that I could live with it. That I wouldn't wake up today and regret it. As strange as this may sound, I don't and I can.

Why?

Because race day -- and the days leading up to it -- were not a total loss.

What went well:

• I went in to this race incredibly calm. I felt more competent and prepared this year.


• My swim was 4 minutes faster than last year.


• My transition times tightened up.


• My nutrition was fine. (Last year, I got was so nauseous by the time I got out to the run, I couldn't eat any thing. The only things that appealed to me were ice chips, coke (which they ran out of) and chicken broth (which was cold). This year, there was plenty of coke (which, as a non-soda drinker, I have a new found appreciation for its power to bring you back to life when you are running) AND the chicken broth was warm and salty. Perfect!)


• Instead of hating the crowds (as I did last year), I had fun with them -- even during the run.


• I had a GREAT first 58 miles on the bike (averaging over 15 mph, versus 13 last year). Also had a great ride back in to town after the hills (averaging 14.8 mph).


• I had tons of support out on the course, which I really appreciated. Hubby, Nat, Lance, Angel, Rick, Mary, Jim, Gary, Marcia, Marty, Pam, Kurt, Eric, Greg, Patrick and Beverly just to name a few faces I was so very, very happy to see out on the course.


• I remembered to be grateful.


• I remembered to look up and to see the day.


• I had fun in the days up to the race hanging out with Nat doing some pre race swims and stuff.


• It was a nice weekend with my husband.


• My other IM WI friends did GREAT! Congrats to: Ali, Debbie, Cindy, Mark, Alyssa, Kirk and MIKE WIMMER!!!!

What went wrong:

• After that awesome first 58 miles, the second loop went south in a big way. Not sure if the day was too hot, or what, but I got very uncomfortable on the bike. My average pace dropped like a stone to just about 10 mph. Pitiful. Screwed up my plan to get back in to transition and out on the run course by 5:00 pm at the latest


• Things that usually didn't bother me while riding. did. My shoes got terribly uncomfortable. (I may try some gel inserts to add some cushion). My "hoo ha", which never, every bothers me, really, really bothered me. (And I even had Hoo Ha Ride Glide packets, which I bought as a "joke" and didn't use. Dumb me.) My hands hurt (the tape on my handle bars came loose). Hubby had asked me if I was going to use gloves. "Why?", I replied. "My hands never bother me." Dumb me.


• I stopped at the water stop in Cross Plains to stretch my back a little, where the following conversation with a happy volunteer occurred:

The happy volunteer to me: "so...how ya doin'?"
My reply: "Fine...just stretching my back."
"Um....you have enough water?"
"Yes."
"Um...how ya feeling?"
(I thought I had answered that...) "Fine."
"You look a little hot."
"Okay..."
"So, you want to sit in the shade a bit?"
(Not really, but are you hinting???) "So how are the riders handling the heat?"
"We are having lots of them sit in the shade for a few minutes.... wanna sit in the shade?"
(Okay, hint taken.) I got off my bike and joined a few people who were also cooling down.

I rolled in to transition waaaaaay later than I wanted to and knew that finishing the run on time would be stretch.

My running training had suffered this year, with early lack of mo-jo and then a late, nagging heel injury. My coach and I had been banking on me getting off the bike in enough time to mostly walk the marathon. My plan was to run a 3 minute/1 minute walk routine, which I started, but had some struggles keeping. I adjusted to a 2/1 routine, but my pace was off, off, off and it became apparent I was not going to be able to make midnight.

I had lots of friends out on the course who tried to get me to run more/faster, but it wasn't where my head was at. And where the head is at, the feet will follow....so, by about mile 7, I started to think that getting to the half, picking up my Special Needs bag (because I wanted the card that Hubby slipped in there), and then dropping out sounded like a good idea.

And that is what I did.

The really bad news: for as much as I prepared, the real struggle for me has always been (and continues to be, apparently), the ongoing argument with my mind.

As much as I've heard "the body can take 20 times more than the mind thinks it can", I have not been extremely successful at countering it when it woos me with it's crazy talk. Be it "you aren't good enough/young enough/thin enough/speedy enough/whatever enough" or, "just stop. It will feel soooooo good", I am not always prepared with a counter offer.

I have 360+ days to come up with a good one.

It's Heeerrreeee....

No, not the aliens or even that very strange blond little girl from the movie.....

Ironman Wisconsin is tomorrow. It is here.

I can't believe how quickly the year flew by. I can't quite grasp that it is already September. Amazing.

Hubby and I have been in Madison since last Thursday.... got my packet Thursday; went to the dinner and official meeting on Friday; spend MOOla at the expo (MOO, of course, because it is IMOO...); Got a couple swims in; a quick bike and a quick run.

I'm feeling strangely calm about tomorrow. Probably because I made the trip down here several times and am less afraid of the bike course. Could be because I did the Madison Open Water Swim event as a 2.4 mile practice of the course. Maybe because I understand more of what I'm up against tomorrow. Who really cares why.... I'm just going with it.

Natalie and Lance got here yesterday. Angel, Rick, Patrick and Beverly are here now.....Marcia, Gary, Marty, Mary and Jim come later today and tomorrow.... It is really wonderful to have such supportive friends (and Spouse!) here to watch, volunteer and support. I have no way to appropriately repay them for this.

Other friends I've trained with are excited for their Ironman day too: Ali, Debbie, Cindy, Madonna, John, Mike W, Mark....AND friends like Eric, Helen, Steve, Ray, Kurt, Pam, Greg, Badgergirl and JWimm will be out there too - some volunteering; some just cheering, but I'm sure to "feel the love" (or at least hear the screams) while we are out there on the course.

One friend that won't be competing is Denny Johnson. He was in Boulder in August to watch some friends do IM Boulder 70.3 and went out for a training ride, when he had a very bad accident. Broke his helmet, bones and ended up with a severe brain injury. He was in a coma for almost a month and passed away a week ago. He was so excited to do IM WI.....it is a rotten shame that he won't be here to compete -- won't be here any more, but his spirit certainly lives on, as many of us here knew him and will carry him with us tomorrow.

So, when I hit those dark spots -- when I've hit "the line" as the Endurance Nation folks call it, and I need to have that "one thing" to grab on to, I'll be grabbing on to gratitude. For being alive; for being able to be here; for my health; my sobriety; my husband; my family; my friends. And I'll pass a silent prayer on for Denny. Then I'll take that next step.