Best laid plans and all....
Woke up last Saturday morning at 4:00 am to rain. Not drizzle. Rain. And thunder.
Nothing like a thunderstorm on race day. The only thing better is a cold, windy rainstorm, which we had. Trifecta!
The ever hopeful optimistic I am, I still packed up and headed out to Lake Rebecca. Storm had to blow over sometime, right?
It did!
As I got to the venue, the rain stopped. It was still cold and windy, but at least the rain had stopped. But what a difference a couple weeks of rain makes.
My friend, Teresa, and I had done a preview ride on the course a couple weeks prior to race day. The river that runs parallel of part of the bike course had been high, but not THIS high. Two weeks prior, the transition area was grassy and dry. Race day, huge, two-inch deep water-filled puddles dotted the transition area.
Still, I got body marked, set up transition and went down to the lake for a look. I bumped in t my friend, Shaun, who was also racing the Oly. He came with me to inspect the lake..... Despite the lousy weather, the lake was calm and warm. It's the small victories....
We wandered back to transition when BOOM. Thunder. FLASH. Lightening. Pitter, patter. Rain.
I grabbed my wetsuit and went back towards the lake to wait out the rain in the bathroom (also has the private stall where I can get in to my wetsuit. No one really needs to watch that.)
While I was suiting up, another woman came in to the bathroom. She told me they had just announced a 30 minute rain delay.
"Perfect", I thought.
Once in the suit, I went back up to transition. It was raining harder now. I sat with other racers and volunteers under protection of the pavilion and just watched it rain. And rain. And rain.
The more it rained, the less I wanted to do the race. Wet roads are slippery roads. The last thing I needed/wanted was to crash. The wind and cold temps were not getting any better. It was in the mid 50's. I don't mind the rain if it is warm. But I really hate being cold and wet. I also have Raynaud's syndrome, which means if my hands get too cold, I lose circulation in some of my finger tips. This typically is only a problem in the winter. This kind of cold, wet weather would have been an issue last Saturday for sure.
Thirty minutes went by and no announcement to start the race. Just more rain.
I pulled the plug at that point and turned in my chip. I got my things out of transition and made the long, humiliating walk back to my car. Walked by another friend, Julia, who was sitting in her car. She rolled down her window and we chatted for a minute. She wasn't sure what she was going to do.... said that radar was looking ugly. (She decided to stick it out and raced. Had a great day out on the course. Go Julia!)
It wasn't a total loss, however. I drove from the race venue to my health club and did an indoor version of the triathlon, swimming in the pool, riding a stationary bike and running the track.
No medal, but no road rash, no frozen hands, no season opener. But, did the distance and stayed safe.
The race finally did happen. Numbers were way down. Lots of folks didn't show up; about 70 of us pulled out once we were there....
Next up, the ITU Oly in Chicago. Let's hope for better weather.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Friday, June 6, 2014
Here goes nuthin'
Every year, it's been the same. Triathlon season comes and it goes by in the blink of an eye. Every October, event registrations start opening up for the next year. Who is first in line? Me. By the end of the year, I pretty much have my race schedule nailed down and paid for. Then, the waiting begins until Triathlon season.
Last year was not different. By December 31st, I had registered for most of what I plan to race in 2014. Money was spent; dates and hotels were secured; all I had to do was wait patiently.
I just needed to keep my base up and get through the winter so I could race Tri U Mah, Fargo 1/2 Marathon, Liberty half, the ITU Oly, Timberman oly, Racine 70.3, Point to LaPoint swim and, the biggie, Ironman Wisconsin. Then, fall fun, my husband and I signed to run the Twin Cities Marathon's TC Loony Challenge, which is doing the 5K and 10K on October 4th and then the TC 10 Miler on October 5th.
Why would I think anything would break the pattern?
Enter: Winterpalooza.
It was the coldest winter in decades across the country. Minneapolis had an unprecedented 60 days BELOW zero last winter. Usually, we can brace ourselves for the normal week or two in January. Last year, pretty much mid-December though February the mercury refused to go above zero degrees. (We did have an odd warm day, but mostly, we were frozen solid.)
I started a new job last October and, as a new employee, was not able to take any vacation time for the first 90 days. This meant that my husband and I were stuck in Minneapolis for the winter with no relief.
What did I do?
Instead of making friends with the gym and the trainer, I reintroduced myself to the couch. And snacks. Lots and lots of snacks.
It was also the winter that ended my long streak of being mostly injury free. For all the years I've spent swimming, biking and running, I have managed to stay healthy.
I had the first hints of trouble training for and running New York Marathon last year. My husband and I ran the race together. He was feeling good and running strong. I did okay up about mile 15 and then my right hip started to bug me. Nothing terrible, just that nagging ickiness. I ended up having to stretch it out more than once, which slowed us way down.
My husband (The Trooper), stayed with me the whole time, even though he could have had a much faster finish time.
I think the nagging ickiness conspired with the couch and snacks so that by February, I had a lot of hip pain and a very, very limited range of motion when trying to lift my right leg. Sometimes I had to think long and hard about whether or not I could lift it high enough to get up a stair
This was a big and unexpected surprise, which I tried to ignore for a long time. ("It will go away... I just know it!").
My base training was very sparse. (Did I tell you the couch called my name every night? It wooed me.) I kept "active", but mostly walking to and from the fridge.
It didn't help that my long-time coach had some life events of his own. His medical student girlfriend got through her studies and was placed out of state for her residency. He was busy concentrating on moving so I, and my love affair with the couch and snacks, were able to slip under the radar for a long time.
Finally, last February, I had to face the reality. My hip was not getting better. If I was going to do Ironman, training would start soon and there was not way I could fake it across the finish line.
I finally made an appointment with Tria Orthopaedic Center. They have a great reputation and work with a lot of athletes -- pro and amateur. I met with a nice (young) lady doctor, who is also an endurance athlete. I told her that I didn't care if they had to hold me together with duct tape, I just wanted to be able to finish Ironman She promised me I could. I love her.
X-rays indicated some hip arthritis (WHAT?). Again, a huge surprise. In my head, I am 35. In my joints and muscles, I'm in my mid-50s. Dagnabbit.
The hip arthritis wasn't so bad as to stop me from being able to stay active, but it, along with the combo of snacks, winter, the couch and the cold, my glutes, groin, SI joint and all of the "stuff" in that area, just seized up and every thing failed. At once.
So, I've been working on trying to get better with physical therapy, chiropractic work, stretching, ice, heat and compression. The good news is that, after 3 months, I am much, much, MUCH better. I don't think about climbing stairs any more. I can actually swing my leg over the bike again (as opposed to lifting it, resting it on the stem and then hoisting it over to the other side, which is what I did for most of January and February). I don't wake up in the middle of the night anymore in so much pain I can hardly stand it.
The bad news is that, I'm still not at 100%. I have a definite limp, which is much more noticeable when I'm tired. I can swim just fine; I can bike just fine. It is the running that is a problem. My gait is very short and choppy. My pace has sunk like a stone. Some days I run fine with no after issues. Other days, I run and the hip nags for a few hours after.
Ironman training happens over many, many weeks. In theory, for a September race, people start training in earnest in February. The fact that I'm trying to rehab while training for a 140.6 mile race maybe slowing down the recovery.
But, will I stop? No. Why? Because I'm determined (translate to stubborn). And, because I am cheap. I have a lot of green skin in the game, having registered -- and paid for -- all those races last January. Why leave money on the table?
What HAS happened has been:
Tomorrow is my first summer race -- Liberty Oly. Wish me luck!
Here goes nuthin'.....
Last year was not different. By December 31st, I had registered for most of what I plan to race in 2014. Money was spent; dates and hotels were secured; all I had to do was wait patiently.
I just needed to keep my base up and get through the winter so I could race Tri U Mah, Fargo 1/2 Marathon, Liberty half, the ITU Oly, Timberman oly, Racine 70.3, Point to LaPoint swim and, the biggie, Ironman Wisconsin. Then, fall fun, my husband and I signed to run the Twin Cities Marathon's TC Loony Challenge, which is doing the 5K and 10K on October 4th and then the TC 10 Miler on October 5th.
Why would I think anything would break the pattern?
Enter: Winterpalooza.
It was the coldest winter in decades across the country. Minneapolis had an unprecedented 60 days BELOW zero last winter. Usually, we can brace ourselves for the normal week or two in January. Last year, pretty much mid-December though February the mercury refused to go above zero degrees. (We did have an odd warm day, but mostly, we were frozen solid.)
I started a new job last October and, as a new employee, was not able to take any vacation time for the first 90 days. This meant that my husband and I were stuck in Minneapolis for the winter with no relief.
What did I do?
Instead of making friends with the gym and the trainer, I reintroduced myself to the couch. And snacks. Lots and lots of snacks.
It was also the winter that ended my long streak of being mostly injury free. For all the years I've spent swimming, biking and running, I have managed to stay healthy.
I had the first hints of trouble training for and running New York Marathon last year. My husband and I ran the race together. He was feeling good and running strong. I did okay up about mile 15 and then my right hip started to bug me. Nothing terrible, just that nagging ickiness. I ended up having to stretch it out more than once, which slowed us way down.
My husband (The Trooper), stayed with me the whole time, even though he could have had a much faster finish time.
I think the nagging ickiness conspired with the couch and snacks so that by February, I had a lot of hip pain and a very, very limited range of motion when trying to lift my right leg. Sometimes I had to think long and hard about whether or not I could lift it high enough to get up a stair
This was a big and unexpected surprise, which I tried to ignore for a long time. ("It will go away... I just know it!").
My base training was very sparse. (Did I tell you the couch called my name every night? It wooed me.) I kept "active", but mostly walking to and from the fridge.
It didn't help that my long-time coach had some life events of his own. His medical student girlfriend got through her studies and was placed out of state for her residency. He was busy concentrating on moving so I, and my love affair with the couch and snacks, were able to slip under the radar for a long time.
Finally, last February, I had to face the reality. My hip was not getting better. If I was going to do Ironman, training would start soon and there was not way I could fake it across the finish line.
I finally made an appointment with Tria Orthopaedic Center. They have a great reputation and work with a lot of athletes -- pro and amateur. I met with a nice (young) lady doctor, who is also an endurance athlete. I told her that I didn't care if they had to hold me together with duct tape, I just wanted to be able to finish Ironman She promised me I could. I love her.
X-rays indicated some hip arthritis (WHAT?). Again, a huge surprise. In my head, I am 35. In my joints and muscles, I'm in my mid-50s. Dagnabbit.
The hip arthritis wasn't so bad as to stop me from being able to stay active, but it, along with the combo of snacks, winter, the couch and the cold, my glutes, groin, SI joint and all of the "stuff" in that area, just seized up and every thing failed. At once.
So, I've been working on trying to get better with physical therapy, chiropractic work, stretching, ice, heat and compression. The good news is that, after 3 months, I am much, much, MUCH better. I don't think about climbing stairs any more. I can actually swing my leg over the bike again (as opposed to lifting it, resting it on the stem and then hoisting it over to the other side, which is what I did for most of January and February). I don't wake up in the middle of the night anymore in so much pain I can hardly stand it.
The bad news is that, I'm still not at 100%. I have a definite limp, which is much more noticeable when I'm tired. I can swim just fine; I can bike just fine. It is the running that is a problem. My gait is very short and choppy. My pace has sunk like a stone. Some days I run fine with no after issues. Other days, I run and the hip nags for a few hours after.
Ironman training happens over many, many weeks. In theory, for a September race, people start training in earnest in February. The fact that I'm trying to rehab while training for a 140.6 mile race maybe slowing down the recovery.
But, will I stop? No. Why? Because I'm determined (translate to stubborn). And, because I am cheap. I have a lot of green skin in the game, having registered -- and paid for -- all those races last January. Why leave money on the table?
What HAS happened has been:
- A pullback from some of the races. I wasn't ready for Fargo 1/2, so dropped that down to the 10K. (Slowest 10K I've run in my entire life). I am doing better and don't want to push it yet, so dropped from the half at Liberty to the Oly distance. Lake Superior reported ice on the lake as late as last week. I do not need to swim 2.4 miles in a slushy, so I've dropped Point to LaPoint this year. (Also happens to be an Ironman Wisconsin camp that weekend that my training buddies are going to, so wanted to spend time there with them).
- A new coach. Sometimes you just gotta switch things up. I moved on to a new coach and things have been going great. She is on top of me if I start to slack. This is what I need -- especially since the couch is always beckoning.
- An agreement with myself. Although I want to do well at each race, I am really looking at each one as a training day helping me prepare for Ironman. My primary goal is to do everything in my power to get to September 7th as healthy and prepared as I can possibly be so I can cross that finish line before midnight.
Tomorrow is my first summer race -- Liberty Oly. Wish me luck!
Here goes nuthin'.....
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Ten Years of Tri U Mah
I'm going to take you back a bit. To July, 2004 as a matter of fact. One of my good running buddies, Marcia Lee, had entered the LifeTime Fitness triathlon as part of a relay team. Her daughter would swim; her son would bike and she would run.This "triathlon" thing was sort of a puzzle to me. I didn't quite get how the whole thing fit together, how you'd have energy enough to finish the dang thing, and, oh yeah: the swim. The D R E A D E D swim in a L A K E. With other people. And fish.
I'd done plenty of road races up until this point. Every thing from 5Ks to marathons. Didn't do them fast, but finished them. Through them, I had found a great bunch of friends and had certainly challenged myself in ways I never thought possible. But triathlon? You'd have to be crazy to do one of those, right?
I wandered down to Lake Nokomis and got sucked right in by the triathlon sirens. I watched the race and by the time my friend crossed the finish line, I was hooked. I wanted to try my hand at this swim, bike and run thing. I wanted it bad.
One tiny problem though: I couldn't really swim. Oh, I could dog paddle with the best of 'em. I did a lot of "splashy, splashy" in the pool if I was on vacation somewhere, but swim? For several hundred yards? And in a lake where I couldn't easily touch the bottom or get to the side wall if I got in trouble? Hmmmmmm.....no. Not so much.
But the seed was planted and triathlon became a goal. I started swimming. To make it to 100 yards I'd break up the four lengths by doing freestyle, then backstroke, then breaststroke, then side stroke. Then I'd have to catch my breath for a bit. Then I'd do it again. And again, and again.
I finally figured out that I could benefit from some swim lessons and found David Cameron, Total Immersion guru, who helped me become more efficient in the water. Sayonara, back, breast and side strokes. Now, it was freestyle all the way.
By the end of 2004, I felt confident that I could sign up for a triathlon in 2005, but which one?
Enter: Tri U Mah
Tri U Mah, an indoor triathlon hosted by the University of Minnesota, debuted in February 2005. Slightly different than other triathlons, which have a stated race distance that participants cover, Tri U Mah breaks its race up in to 30 minute swim, bike and run segments with 10 minute transitions between swim/bike and bike/run. Participants cover as much distance as they can during the time blocks and winners are determined by the total distance covered.
It was the PERFECT first time triathlon for me. I signed up for the race, was nervous as hell when I started and beaming, beaming, BEAMING when I was finished. I've done the race each and every year since 2005, making my 2014 race the first of my 10th year of triathlon. My, how times flies....
The race has become the 'season opener ritual" for me and several of my friends. We find it to be the perfect reminder that outdoor season is coming for sure and it is time to get back to training. I fell in love with triathlon that February and haven't looked back since.
After that, I moved on to outdoor tris and conquered my fear of open water swimming (OWS). (Candidly, the OWS thing took me a long time to embrace. It really wasn't until I did a training swim with my coach, Greg Rhodes, at Lake Ann Park in 2009, that I let go of my OWS fear. He got me over it by tricking me. At the beginning of a practice swim, he told me that, if I made it from one side of the lake to the other, I could walk back to our starting point. Greg, who is a terrific swimmer, took off in the water. I hemmed, hawed; I adjusted my goggles a million times. I stopped to bob for a bit. I finally got over to the other side and was going to get out to walk back when he said "Oh, no. You are swimming back and you aren't going to stop. You can do this". And I did.)
Sprints led to Olys, which led to half-irons, which led to Ironman. Took me three times to cross that finish line at Wisconsin, but I did. And I'll do it one more time this year in September.
So, thank you, Tri U Mah, for giving me something to look forward to each February. See you in 2015.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Blink
If you are like most Minnesotans, you are probably anxious for summer to start.
Blink.
Waaaaaiiiiit.....earlier this week, Fall said "Top of the morning to ya", when the entrance gates to the "foods-on-a-stick" fest (aka the Minnesota State Fair) opened up.
Huh....
After last year's success (finally) at Ironman Wisconsin, I was all revved up for a terrific 2013 triathlon season. My goal was to focus on getting faster at shorter distances, trying out some new events and really getting lean and mean.
Blink.
I am now getting ready for my last outdoor tri of the 2013 season, which takes place tomorrow -- (SuperiorMan Half-Iron Distance in Duluth) and I'm STILL trying to get rid of my "winter weight".
Huh....
Just where, exactly, does time go?
This year really has been a giant blur and not my most satisfying on many levels. Not all was bad, but it does feel like I spent a lot of time waiting around for things to get "better" for me to get my head in the game.
The weather had to get "better" for me to feel motivated to train the way I really should have trained. Other aspects of my life needed to get "better" before I wanted to do more than just crawl back in to my house and eat comfort food and watch bad T.V.
Now, almost three-quarters of the year is over (Blink) and I'm finally feeling like I am getting in to the swing of things. (Actually, this theme is not necessarily a new or different one for me. I was went to college at 17 and was really not prepared at the time. In what feels like a SUPER BLINK, it is oh-so-many-years-later, I am ready for college life and would gladly go back to hang at the Terrace at Memorial Union any time. I would also actually show up for the majority of classes this time around....)
Although my triathlon year hasn't been as stupendous as hoped, there certainly were a lot of high points and I had a lot of great fun. Truth also be told, after three years of training to cross the finish line at Imoo, I was probably emotionally, mentally and physically ready for a back off year. (As was predicted by my very wise coach, Greg Rhodes.....).
Here are some of the highlights:
Podium Finisher:
One advantage of moving up in an Age Group category is that, at a certain point, the odds go up in your favor for higher finishing placement. I moved up in AGs this year, and, although there are certainly PLENTY of speedier women in my AG that can kick my arse around the block several times, I did have solid, top five finish times at Buffalo Tri, Liberty Oly and Waconia.
I even was on the podium, coming in 3rd in my AG at Timberman Oly. Now, before I get too all up in my badself, I also have to admit that there weren't too many women actually IN my AG at Timberman (or any of the other events). Still and all, 3rd is 3rd and a prize is a prize. Booyah.
Tried some new stuff:
Waconia was a new event for me this year. Loved it. We lucked out with the swim. Although the water was chilly, it wasn't too rough. The course was challenging but beautiful.
Ironman Racine 70.3 was also new for 2013. After not signing up for this year's Ironman Wisconsin, I still wanted to have an Ironman experience. Racine was a close enough drive and I thought it might be fun to swim in Lake Michigan. (Added plus: a fairly flat bike course.).
Lake Michigan was beeeeuteeefull on the Saturday before the race. Calm, cool, but not cold, clear (could see the bottom in 15 feet of water).
Race day? Not so much. Four-foot waved greeted swimmers the morning of the race. The only way I could convince myself to get in the water was to promise myself that I could pull out any time I wanted to or needed to. Then I just swam from buoy to buoy and before I knew it, I was getting out of the lake. (It was a tough swim for many racers. I heard about 50 people got pulled from the water and many others didn't even get in to start).
The bike was fine, flat and fast. The run was a bit of a slog, but I made it fun by chatting up with other runners and enjoying the course. Great race; would do it again in a heartbeat.
Point to LaPoint (P2LaP) swim -- another new adventure and certainly a highlight of the year. When putting together my race schedule for the year, Greg added P2LaP, which is a 2.4 mile swim in Lake Superior from Bayfield, Wisconsin to Madeline Island.
At first, I thought the event might over my head (pun intended). Not because of the distance, but the swim in big, deep, cold Lake Superior. I also had in my head that the course was going to be long and lonely, with me paddling in the lake looking at nothing but water and hoping that I wasn't getting lost.
Au contraire!
First, you can see the island from Bayfield (phew). The water temp, while cold, turned out to be perfect with the help of neoprene booties and cap. The race is very well organized and I love the sweatshirt they give to racers.
Two other pluses were that my sister came with me to watch the race and we both met John, the owner of Schoep the dog. My sister and I are both HUGE animal people and the story of John and his wonderful dog had really touched our hearts. It was sheer coincidence that we met John.... but we did and we were able to convey our condolences and to share a hug.
Final new event for 2013 will be the tri tomorrow: SuperiorMan. It starts with a leap off a ferry boat in to Lake Superior, followed by a bike ride up to Two Harbors and back down to Duluth and then a little 1/2 marathon trot around the city. It is supposed to be unusually hot tomorrow (90s', humid, windy) so, I'm just hoping for the best.
Oldies but goodies:
The new stuff certainly was fun, but there is also something to be said for tradition. Tri U Mah last February; Buffalo in June, Madison Open Water Swim last week.... all fun, fun, fun.
Looking forward:
Hubby and I are doing New York Marathon this fall (baring any hurricanes or other problems). We'll also do the TC 10Miler and Victory 10k for training races as prep for the marathon.
But before we lace up our shoes in November, my friend (and NEW MOM!) Natalie and I will be volunteering at Ironman Wisconsin on September 8th. Then, early in the morning on Monday, September 9th, we'll be lining up with hundreds of others to sign up for Imoo 2014.
BLINK
It will be here before we know it.
Blink.
Waaaaaiiiiit.....earlier this week, Fall said "Top of the morning to ya", when the entrance gates to the "foods-on-a-stick" fest (aka the Minnesota State Fair) opened up.
Huh....
After last year's success (finally) at Ironman Wisconsin, I was all revved up for a terrific 2013 triathlon season. My goal was to focus on getting faster at shorter distances, trying out some new events and really getting lean and mean.
Blink.
I am now getting ready for my last outdoor tri of the 2013 season, which takes place tomorrow -- (SuperiorMan Half-Iron Distance in Duluth) and I'm STILL trying to get rid of my "winter weight".
Huh....
Just where, exactly, does time go?
This year really has been a giant blur and not my most satisfying on many levels. Not all was bad, but it does feel like I spent a lot of time waiting around for things to get "better" for me to get my head in the game.
The weather had to get "better" for me to feel motivated to train the way I really should have trained. Other aspects of my life needed to get "better" before I wanted to do more than just crawl back in to my house and eat comfort food and watch bad T.V.
Now, almost three-quarters of the year is over (Blink) and I'm finally feeling like I am getting in to the swing of things. (Actually, this theme is not necessarily a new or different one for me. I was went to college at 17 and was really not prepared at the time. In what feels like a SUPER BLINK, it is oh-so-many-years-later, I am ready for college life and would gladly go back to hang at the Terrace at Memorial Union any time. I would also actually show up for the majority of classes this time around....)
Although my triathlon year hasn't been as stupendous as hoped, there certainly were a lot of high points and I had a lot of great fun. Truth also be told, after three years of training to cross the finish line at Imoo, I was probably emotionally, mentally and physically ready for a back off year. (As was predicted by my very wise coach, Greg Rhodes.....).
Here are some of the highlights:
Podium Finisher:
One advantage of moving up in an Age Group category is that, at a certain point, the odds go up in your favor for higher finishing placement. I moved up in AGs this year, and, although there are certainly PLENTY of speedier women in my AG that can kick my arse around the block several times, I did have solid, top five finish times at Buffalo Tri, Liberty Oly and Waconia.
I even was on the podium, coming in 3rd in my AG at Timberman Oly. Now, before I get too all up in my badself, I also have to admit that there weren't too many women actually IN my AG at Timberman (or any of the other events). Still and all, 3rd is 3rd and a prize is a prize. Booyah.
Tried some new stuff:
Waconia was a new event for me this year. Loved it. We lucked out with the swim. Although the water was chilly, it wasn't too rough. The course was challenging but beautiful.
Ironman Racine 70.3 was also new for 2013. After not signing up for this year's Ironman Wisconsin, I still wanted to have an Ironman experience. Racine was a close enough drive and I thought it might be fun to swim in Lake Michigan. (Added plus: a fairly flat bike course.).
Lake Michigan was beeeeuteeefull on the Saturday before the race. Calm, cool, but not cold, clear (could see the bottom in 15 feet of water).
Race day? Not so much. Four-foot waved greeted swimmers the morning of the race. The only way I could convince myself to get in the water was to promise myself that I could pull out any time I wanted to or needed to. Then I just swam from buoy to buoy and before I knew it, I was getting out of the lake. (It was a tough swim for many racers. I heard about 50 people got pulled from the water and many others didn't even get in to start).
The bike was fine, flat and fast. The run was a bit of a slog, but I made it fun by chatting up with other runners and enjoying the course. Great race; would do it again in a heartbeat.
Point to LaPoint (P2LaP) swim -- another new adventure and certainly a highlight of the year. When putting together my race schedule for the year, Greg added P2LaP, which is a 2.4 mile swim in Lake Superior from Bayfield, Wisconsin to Madeline Island.
At first, I thought the event might over my head (pun intended). Not because of the distance, but the swim in big, deep, cold Lake Superior. I also had in my head that the course was going to be long and lonely, with me paddling in the lake looking at nothing but water and hoping that I wasn't getting lost.
Au contraire!
First, you can see the island from Bayfield (phew). The water temp, while cold, turned out to be perfect with the help of neoprene booties and cap. The race is very well organized and I love the sweatshirt they give to racers.
Two other pluses were that my sister came with me to watch the race and we both met John, the owner of Schoep the dog. My sister and I are both HUGE animal people and the story of John and his wonderful dog had really touched our hearts. It was sheer coincidence that we met John.... but we did and we were able to convey our condolences and to share a hug.
Final new event for 2013 will be the tri tomorrow: SuperiorMan. It starts with a leap off a ferry boat in to Lake Superior, followed by a bike ride up to Two Harbors and back down to Duluth and then a little 1/2 marathon trot around the city. It is supposed to be unusually hot tomorrow (90s', humid, windy) so, I'm just hoping for the best.
Oldies but goodies:
The new stuff certainly was fun, but there is also something to be said for tradition. Tri U Mah last February; Buffalo in June, Madison Open Water Swim last week.... all fun, fun, fun.
Looking forward:
Hubby and I are doing New York Marathon this fall (baring any hurricanes or other problems). We'll also do the TC 10Miler and Victory 10k for training races as prep for the marathon.
But before we lace up our shoes in November, my friend (and NEW MOM!) Natalie and I will be volunteering at Ironman Wisconsin on September 8th. Then, early in the morning on Monday, September 9th, we'll be lining up with hundreds of others to sign up for Imoo 2014.
BLINK
It will be here before we know it.
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Let's Be Careful Out There.... (thank you, Phil Esterhaus)
Spring is in the air and it it time to get the bike off the trainer and back on the road!
NOT!
I write this on April 11th -- a date far enough along the calendar that we SHOULD be able to be out on the roads, but alas, in case you haven't heard, Minneapolis (and much of the midwest) has been the victim of a very lousy spring. Rain, cold, wind followed by more rain, cold, wind and today -- yes, today, the city received 7 - 10 inches of wet, heavy snow.
What a difference a year makes. Last year at this time, the weather was warm, lakes were open, people were out on bikes, and golfing and living large.
This year, we are all slowly going a little stir crazy and are anxiously awaiting the first real whiff of spring so we can GET OUT and get moving.
I have braved the roads and bike paths a couple of times this year....all three times were on days when the weather was somewhat cooperative. I had to get out. I just couldn't take the trainer any more.
Well, I wasn't the only one out there. The bike paths were jam packed with people and, since at this time of year, bikers and pedestrians share the paths, I thought it might be a good time to send out a gentle (or not so gentle) reminder to cyclists and pedestrians (aka peds) alike focused on good and safe bike etiquette in the hopes of keeping us all safe and sane out there on the roads.
(Disclaimer: although the suggestions below come from me and represent my personal point of view,. I make them in the spirit of offering them up to help us all avoid injury and aggravation).
Who Are You? I can't stress enough the importance of getting and wearing a Road ID. This handy ID will not only provide you and your loved ones peace-of-mind that you can be identified, your 'in case of emergency" people can be contacted and any allergies are listed so they are avoided if you need emergency treatment, wearing it makes you look cool. Whether you wear the wrist or ankle band version, or use the hip, cool and groovy dog tag (like I have), you'll feel safer out there. (And your significant others will breath a little easier when you are out there for those long rides....) www.roadid.com
See and Be Seen: I've gotten in to the habit of hooking a blinking light on to my back jersey pocket every time I ride. SUPER important at night or dusk, I'm wearing one now during the day to help alert (distracted) drivers that I'm sharing the road. Bright colors also help distinguish me from foliage and increase the liklihood that I'll be seen.
As for front lights, I always have one if I'm going to ride at dusk or night. Helps me to be seen aslo for me to see problems like pot holes or other obstructions in the road.
ET, Phone Home: If you are going to bring you cell phone with you, carry it ON you in a pocket, not IN your bento box. Why? On the off chance you get thrown from your bike, you can access the phone that is in pocket to call for help. If it is in your bento box, and your bento box is on your bike, and your bike is 100 feet below you on a cliff, you have a very different set of problems.
Call it. Period. I'm sure this has happened to you. You are on the bike path, minding your very own business, when ZOOM. Some stoked up, Super Rider zips by you so closely that you can almost feel their body heat. Yet, you had no clue they were behind you, much less next to you until they left you in their dust.
I ask you, Super Rider: how hard it is to just say "ON YOUR LEFT" before you pass? (Actually, I ask everyone, just how taxing is it for you to call this safety signal out to alert other riders or runners/peds sharing the path with you?)
Without calling this out, how do you know that I won't suddenly veer to the left to avoid pot hole, or "just because" I decide to turn left, cutting directly in to your path ? (See SIGNAL YOUR INTENT below). If I don't know you're on my flank, a slight move to the left could cause disaster for both of us.
Calling out your intent is an easy thing to do, will cost you ZERO in watts, and could potentially save us both in bike repair and bandage costs.
On a related note, when you hear "On Your Left", this is not a cue for you to crank your head to look behind you, which will cause you also turn your arms to the left, which will cause you to steer the bike to veer to the left and in to the path of the person passing. No, no, no. When you hear the call, you simply have to steer a little to the RIGHT of the path to help provide a little more space between you the person passing you. It is a simple as that.
Signal Your Intent: Ahhh. Another of my favorites. I'm riding behind you on the bike path, just enjoying the day, when BOOM, you decide you are going to make a left-hand turn, RIGHT NOW.
I don't care if you are turning left, right or stopping. Signal your intent so those behind you have a clue as to what we need to do to help keep us all safe. If you are stopping, we'll slow down so we don't ram in to you. If you are turning left, we won't try to pass you at the exact same second you decide to turn your wheel. If you are turning right, we'll just keep moving along. We just need to know.
Bike Paths = Moving Lanes of Traffic: Imagine this: you are driving down 35W, when you see your best friend's car in the lane next to you. You haven't seen your friend in a couple of days, so you both decide to stop, in the middle of the freeway, so the two of you can chat and catch up for a few minutes.
Common scenario? NO. Why? Because we know better than to stop and block traffic in a live, moving lane.
Why, then, do some riders think this is perfectly okay to do on a bike path? Aren't bikes moving along the path when you decide to stop and chat with friends? Bike paths are moving lanes of traffic.
If you stop on the path to chat, or to adjust your helmet, or to look at the lake, or to grab a drink of water, eat a power bar, take a picture to upload to Facebook or just to rest, PULL OFF THE PATH.
Get yourself and your bike on to that little patch of grass that separates the bike path from the walking path and feel free to stay there as long -- and as safely -- as you want.
Oh, and, when you decide to get back on the path, look both ways before pulling back in to the moving lane of bike traffic. I know this sounds like a no brainer, but you'd be surprised....
Rock, Paper, Scissor = Ped, Bike, Car: I look at it this way: When I'm walking, I need very little time or distance to be able to stop my forward momentum to get out of harms way. I need a lot less time or distance than if I am on a bike, where my speed is greater, and if something happens suddenly in front of me that I have to avoid, I need a lot more distance to slow myself down to a stop (without catapulting myself over my handle bars), or turning to avoid a collision. If I'm driving a car and going even faster than on my bike, I need a whole lot more room to avoid sudden disaster.
Therefore, if I'm walking and want to cross the bike path, it is up to ME, the WALKER to wait a couple of seconds for the bike to pass before I meander across the pathway.
Same logic applies if I'm on a bike and come to stop sign at an intersection and meet up with a car that wants to cross my path. It is up to ME, the BIKER to give that car lots and lots of leeway to go before me. I will let the car go first even if I have the right of way. WHY? Because the car outweighs me in a big way and getting hit would really put a dent in my day (and the car's fender).
Family Fun: I'm guessing that my opinion on the following will be controversial: it is not my job to watch out for your kid. (Yes, I said it.). I will also say, that I do my very, very, VERY best to not do any training rides on bike paths during peak times of the day when families want to be out for a nice spin around the lake(s). However I will also reiterate that, it is your job as a parent to make sure that your kid is riding in a manner that keeps us all safe.
Things that help:
Happy riding, everyone!
NOT!
I write this on April 11th -- a date far enough along the calendar that we SHOULD be able to be out on the roads, but alas, in case you haven't heard, Minneapolis (and much of the midwest) has been the victim of a very lousy spring. Rain, cold, wind followed by more rain, cold, wind and today -- yes, today, the city received 7 - 10 inches of wet, heavy snow.
What a difference a year makes. Last year at this time, the weather was warm, lakes were open, people were out on bikes, and golfing and living large.
This year, we are all slowly going a little stir crazy and are anxiously awaiting the first real whiff of spring so we can GET OUT and get moving.
I have braved the roads and bike paths a couple of times this year....all three times were on days when the weather was somewhat cooperative. I had to get out. I just couldn't take the trainer any more.
Well, I wasn't the only one out there. The bike paths were jam packed with people and, since at this time of year, bikers and pedestrians share the paths, I thought it might be a good time to send out a gentle (or not so gentle) reminder to cyclists and pedestrians (aka peds) alike focused on good and safe bike etiquette in the hopes of keeping us all safe and sane out there on the roads.
(Disclaimer: although the suggestions below come from me and represent my personal point of view,. I make them in the spirit of offering them up to help us all avoid injury and aggravation).
Who Are You? I can't stress enough the importance of getting and wearing a Road ID. This handy ID will not only provide you and your loved ones peace-of-mind that you can be identified, your 'in case of emergency" people can be contacted and any allergies are listed so they are avoided if you need emergency treatment, wearing it makes you look cool. Whether you wear the wrist or ankle band version, or use the hip, cool and groovy dog tag (like I have), you'll feel safer out there. (And your significant others will breath a little easier when you are out there for those long rides....) www.roadid.com
See and Be Seen: I've gotten in to the habit of hooking a blinking light on to my back jersey pocket every time I ride. SUPER important at night or dusk, I'm wearing one now during the day to help alert (distracted) drivers that I'm sharing the road. Bright colors also help distinguish me from foliage and increase the liklihood that I'll be seen.
As for front lights, I always have one if I'm going to ride at dusk or night. Helps me to be seen aslo for me to see problems like pot holes or other obstructions in the road.
ET, Phone Home: If you are going to bring you cell phone with you, carry it ON you in a pocket, not IN your bento box. Why? On the off chance you get thrown from your bike, you can access the phone that is in pocket to call for help. If it is in your bento box, and your bento box is on your bike, and your bike is 100 feet below you on a cliff, you have a very different set of problems.
Call it. Period. I'm sure this has happened to you. You are on the bike path, minding your very own business, when ZOOM. Some stoked up, Super Rider zips by you so closely that you can almost feel their body heat. Yet, you had no clue they were behind you, much less next to you until they left you in their dust.
I ask you, Super Rider: how hard it is to just say "ON YOUR LEFT" before you pass? (Actually, I ask everyone, just how taxing is it for you to call this safety signal out to alert other riders or runners/peds sharing the path with you?)
Without calling this out, how do you know that I won't suddenly veer to the left to avoid pot hole, or "just because" I decide to turn left, cutting directly in to your path ? (See SIGNAL YOUR INTENT below). If I don't know you're on my flank, a slight move to the left could cause disaster for both of us.
Calling out your intent is an easy thing to do, will cost you ZERO in watts, and could potentially save us both in bike repair and bandage costs.
On a related note, when you hear "On Your Left", this is not a cue for you to crank your head to look behind you, which will cause you also turn your arms to the left, which will cause you to steer the bike to veer to the left and in to the path of the person passing. No, no, no. When you hear the call, you simply have to steer a little to the RIGHT of the path to help provide a little more space between you the person passing you. It is a simple as that.
Signal Your Intent: Ahhh. Another of my favorites. I'm riding behind you on the bike path, just enjoying the day, when BOOM, you decide you are going to make a left-hand turn, RIGHT NOW.
I don't care if you are turning left, right or stopping. Signal your intent so those behind you have a clue as to what we need to do to help keep us all safe. If you are stopping, we'll slow down so we don't ram in to you. If you are turning left, we won't try to pass you at the exact same second you decide to turn your wheel. If you are turning right, we'll just keep moving along. We just need to know.
Bike Paths = Moving Lanes of Traffic: Imagine this: you are driving down 35W, when you see your best friend's car in the lane next to you. You haven't seen your friend in a couple of days, so you both decide to stop, in the middle of the freeway, so the two of you can chat and catch up for a few minutes.
Common scenario? NO. Why? Because we know better than to stop and block traffic in a live, moving lane.
Why, then, do some riders think this is perfectly okay to do on a bike path? Aren't bikes moving along the path when you decide to stop and chat with friends? Bike paths are moving lanes of traffic.
If you stop on the path to chat, or to adjust your helmet, or to look at the lake, or to grab a drink of water, eat a power bar, take a picture to upload to Facebook or just to rest, PULL OFF THE PATH.
Get yourself and your bike on to that little patch of grass that separates the bike path from the walking path and feel free to stay there as long -- and as safely -- as you want.
Oh, and, when you decide to get back on the path, look both ways before pulling back in to the moving lane of bike traffic. I know this sounds like a no brainer, but you'd be surprised....
Rock, Paper, Scissor = Ped, Bike, Car: I look at it this way: When I'm walking, I need very little time or distance to be able to stop my forward momentum to get out of harms way. I need a lot less time or distance than if I am on a bike, where my speed is greater, and if something happens suddenly in front of me that I have to avoid, I need a lot more distance to slow myself down to a stop (without catapulting myself over my handle bars), or turning to avoid a collision. If I'm driving a car and going even faster than on my bike, I need a whole lot more room to avoid sudden disaster.
Therefore, if I'm walking and want to cross the bike path, it is up to ME, the WALKER to wait a couple of seconds for the bike to pass before I meander across the pathway.
Same logic applies if I'm on a bike and come to stop sign at an intersection and meet up with a car that wants to cross my path. It is up to ME, the BIKER to give that car lots and lots of leeway to go before me. I will let the car go first even if I have the right of way. WHY? Because the car outweighs me in a big way and getting hit would really put a dent in my day (and the car's fender).
Family Fun: I'm guessing that my opinion on the following will be controversial: it is not my job to watch out for your kid. (Yes, I said it.). I will also say, that I do my very, very, VERY best to not do any training rides on bike paths during peak times of the day when families want to be out for a nice spin around the lake(s). However I will also reiterate that, it is your job as a parent to make sure that your kid is riding in a manner that keeps us all safe.
Things that help:
- If you have little riders with you, keep them in front of you, so you can see what they are doing and how they are riding. (Are they swerving, are they staying on the right side of the path?). If you ride in front of them, you have no idea where they are on the path, how far they are behind you or if they stopped because they got tired.
- Make sure your kid knows "right" from "left", so they know to move to the right when being passed (and hearing the call), and that they know how to signal their intent. Good biking habits start early!
- Speaking of kids, the other thing that scares me is when I see a family walking back to their car and needing to cross the bike path. I see a lot of grown-ups that let the kids run in front of them as they are moving toward the street and the kids just don't realize that they need to LOOK before they cross on to the bike path. I might be moving like a snail on my bike, but if your kid runs in to the path and I can't stop, it is will be a very unhappy end to a day at the lake.
Happy riding, everyone!
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Real butter, real cream, real cheese....
I'm a Wisconsin girl.
Yes, I know I live in Minnesota, but that doesn't dispute the fact that I was born and bred in good, old Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Land of the free, home of the bratwurst.
I love all things Wisconsin -- from its cities to its cows and all things in between. I always tell people about our favorite state motto: Come smell our Dairy Air (.....to get the joke on this, say the motto out loud, but slowly...... now get it?)
I grew up the child of a father with German and Polish heritage and a mother, with roots from Sweden and Ireland, so my love of potatos (and all foods considered to be hearty) is more than likely in embedded in my DNA.
Well, maybe not potatoes, but certainly frozen custard -- a Milwaukee staple.
The story goes that, on a warm summer evening before I could walk, my parents drove the Oldsmobile convertible to the local drivein to enjoy a refreshing cone of frozen custard deliciousness. My dad thought it has high time that I had my first taste of the wondrous treat and pushed his cone towards my lips.
Apparently, I licked the cone, swallowed and then my eyes widened. I grabbed on to the cone and held on for dear life, as I buried my face in to the custard, and literally COOED, and went to town on the custard.
This explains so, so much.
My love of food has never waned, but it has, at times, been a very complicated love affair (think Alec Baldwin and Kim Bassinger).
I also have the unfortunate luck to not understand the concept of "rich" when it comes to food. You know, the type of food that is typically high in calories (and goodness) that people taste, then push away the dish and say some to the effect of "Ooooohh...that is toooo rich for me'.
I say "I'll have it!" and could not only finish their portion (including the licking of the plate) and then ask for more.
Left to my own devices, I could very well become one of those people you read about, where they have to cut a hole out of the side of the house to extract them to get them to the hospital.
Except for two very important things: Vanity and Triathlon.
The biggest influence for me and my eating choices was running. I started to run when I was in my late 30s and when I was training for my first 10k, the light bulb went on. I finally made a connection between what goes in my mouth and the results that come out of my feet.
I gave up all fast food that year, with the exception of Subway. That was probably 12 years ago. I've pretty much converted off of white bread and white rice, opting instead for whole wheat, pumpernickel (see, those German roots are never too far away), brown rice and quinoa.
I gave up all soda about the same time as I gave up McDonalds. The only time I've had soda over the last couple of years was on the runs while doing Ironman Wisconsin. Nothing like a few sips of real Coke to get you to the next water stop.
After spending a few summers riding my bike through the hills around Dane County training for the big race and mooing at the cows I'd pass, I finally decided that it was bad form to eat my friends, so I quit eating beef and pork about 15 months ago.
I did fall victim to the "fake" food fad for a little while and ate no fat, crappy substitutes for things like cheese, butter and cream. No taste, no flavor, too many chemicals. I now am a firm believer in the benefits (and flavor) of the real stuff, but don't go too crazy when I choose to eat them.
I'm a significantly healthier eater today than I was when I was a kid or young adult. My pants size(es) fall in the "normal" range and haven't had to shop Lane Bryant for decades......
So you'd think I'd finally overcome this whole weight/food thing, right?
Well, not so much.
Every summer, by the time I get to my "A" race for the season, I finally get to a "great" weight for me. (Other athletes will know this as their "racing weight'). This comes perfectly timed after months of training hard and burning lots of calories. I get to race day, get on the scale and am IN LOVE with that number. I race and then forget about the scale for months. But I don't forget about changing my "hey, I'm in training" eating patterns. And, oh by the way, the season changes from summer to fall, then winter; days get shorter, meals get heartier, I get lazier.
Why, then, am I always so surprised that, when I finally get brave enough to get back on the scale, the number reflected back to me isn't even close to that race weight number?
I'm a smart girl. I understand the concept of portion control (notice I said CONCEPT, not daily practice). I also understand that it is easier to right the ship when it is slightly off course (aka 5 pounds) than when it is when it is more off course (like double digits).
But, every year, I seem to be here -- again -- looking at the beginning of training season with some extra lbs and an internally screaming fat-self that says "HEY -- don't you be thinking of taking my second helping away!!"
But away it must go, along with my "friend" sugar. I've given up a lot of stuff, but the white stuff has always been my nemesis. It is puzzling to me why....
I had a long conversation with my coach about this weight thing....he reminded me that race weight is one thing (and not a sustainable thing) and what I should really be striving for is my "every day" weight (which is not my "2nd day of February" weight.
He understands that weight fluctuations are a part of every athletes life (right, Kent Hurbek?) but doing our best to not let the high number too high. (He says a good number to track for is about 8% above your "best" weight).
When I look at it that way, I'm not too far out of the (weight) ball park.
But it is time to get back on the pony (or in my case, tri bke and trainer) because spring IS coming.
And so is my first race!
Yes, I know I live in Minnesota, but that doesn't dispute the fact that I was born and bred in good, old Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Land of the free, home of the bratwurst.
I love all things Wisconsin -- from its cities to its cows and all things in between. I always tell people about our favorite state motto: Come smell our Dairy Air (.....to get the joke on this, say the motto out loud, but slowly...... now get it?)
I grew up the child of a father with German and Polish heritage and a mother, with roots from Sweden and Ireland, so my love of potatos (and all foods considered to be hearty) is more than likely in embedded in my DNA.
Well, maybe not potatoes, but certainly frozen custard -- a Milwaukee staple.
The story goes that, on a warm summer evening before I could walk, my parents drove the Oldsmobile convertible to the local drivein to enjoy a refreshing cone of frozen custard deliciousness. My dad thought it has high time that I had my first taste of the wondrous treat and pushed his cone towards my lips.
Apparently, I licked the cone, swallowed and then my eyes widened. I grabbed on to the cone and held on for dear life, as I buried my face in to the custard, and literally COOED, and went to town on the custard.
This explains so, so much.
My love of food has never waned, but it has, at times, been a very complicated love affair (think Alec Baldwin and Kim Bassinger).
I also have the unfortunate luck to not understand the concept of "rich" when it comes to food. You know, the type of food that is typically high in calories (and goodness) that people taste, then push away the dish and say some to the effect of "Ooooohh...that is toooo rich for me'.
I say "I'll have it!" and could not only finish their portion (including the licking of the plate) and then ask for more.
Left to my own devices, I could very well become one of those people you read about, where they have to cut a hole out of the side of the house to extract them to get them to the hospital.
Except for two very important things: Vanity and Triathlon.
The biggest influence for me and my eating choices was running. I started to run when I was in my late 30s and when I was training for my first 10k, the light bulb went on. I finally made a connection between what goes in my mouth and the results that come out of my feet.
I gave up all fast food that year, with the exception of Subway. That was probably 12 years ago. I've pretty much converted off of white bread and white rice, opting instead for whole wheat, pumpernickel (see, those German roots are never too far away), brown rice and quinoa.
I gave up all soda about the same time as I gave up McDonalds. The only time I've had soda over the last couple of years was on the runs while doing Ironman Wisconsin. Nothing like a few sips of real Coke to get you to the next water stop.
After spending a few summers riding my bike through the hills around Dane County training for the big race and mooing at the cows I'd pass, I finally decided that it was bad form to eat my friends, so I quit eating beef and pork about 15 months ago.
I did fall victim to the "fake" food fad for a little while and ate no fat, crappy substitutes for things like cheese, butter and cream. No taste, no flavor, too many chemicals. I now am a firm believer in the benefits (and flavor) of the real stuff, but don't go too crazy when I choose to eat them.
I'm a significantly healthier eater today than I was when I was a kid or young adult. My pants size(es) fall in the "normal" range and haven't had to shop Lane Bryant for decades......
So you'd think I'd finally overcome this whole weight/food thing, right?
Well, not so much.
Every summer, by the time I get to my "A" race for the season, I finally get to a "great" weight for me. (Other athletes will know this as their "racing weight'). This comes perfectly timed after months of training hard and burning lots of calories. I get to race day, get on the scale and am IN LOVE with that number. I race and then forget about the scale for months. But I don't forget about changing my "hey, I'm in training" eating patterns. And, oh by the way, the season changes from summer to fall, then winter; days get shorter, meals get heartier, I get lazier.
Why, then, am I always so surprised that, when I finally get brave enough to get back on the scale, the number reflected back to me isn't even close to that race weight number?
I'm a smart girl. I understand the concept of portion control (notice I said CONCEPT, not daily practice). I also understand that it is easier to right the ship when it is slightly off course (aka 5 pounds) than when it is when it is more off course (like double digits).
But, every year, I seem to be here -- again -- looking at the beginning of training season with some extra lbs and an internally screaming fat-self that says "HEY -- don't you be thinking of taking my second helping away!!"
But away it must go, along with my "friend" sugar. I've given up a lot of stuff, but the white stuff has always been my nemesis. It is puzzling to me why....
I had a long conversation with my coach about this weight thing....he reminded me that race weight is one thing (and not a sustainable thing) and what I should really be striving for is my "every day" weight (which is not my "2nd day of February" weight.
He understands that weight fluctuations are a part of every athletes life (right, Kent Hurbek?) but doing our best to not let the high number too high. (He says a good number to track for is about 8% above your "best" weight).
When I look at it that way, I'm not too far out of the (weight) ball park.
But it is time to get back on the pony (or in my case, tri bke and trainer) because spring IS coming.
And so is my first race!
Saturday, December 29, 2012
The Yin and Yang that was 2012
December 29th, 2012
Another year draws quickly to a close.
Thank heavens.
I, like many, many of my friends, am plenty happy to see 2012 end. It was an "interesting" year for many of us.
While I have to say that the good stuff outweighed the not-so-good stuff, I am glad to be closing the books on the year, and I'm nothing that hopeful and excited about 2013.
The great things that happened this year:
I did make some dumb decisions, though. One in particular was very short-sighted. I made a move that, in retrospect, I'd make differently if I had the chance to do it again. It may not have made the best decision, but it is one I've learned from.
Dumb decisions aside, here is the thing about time and life: unlike golf, we don't get mulligans.
We do, though, get to make other decisions. Make next moves. Turn another corner. Change direction. And that remains the beauty of January 1st. The proverbial "new leaf".
I enter 2013 with a lot of resolutions and goals, including work with an nutritionist specializing with endurance athletes. I already have lots of fun triathlons and other events on the calendar and paid for, including some new ones for me: SuperiorMan (what fun it will be to jump off a boat in to Lake Superior!) -- Ironman Racine 70.3 -- the Point to LaPoint swim -- just to name a few.
While I'm really looking forward to my 2013 race calendar, I'm more importantly looking forward to my LIFE calendar and to finding ways to REALLY take the road(s) less traveled.
I also have high hopes and wishes for all of you: That 2013 will be better than 2012 (even if 2012 was your best year ever). That we won't fall off the fiscal cliff; that the economy will continue to rebound; that you and yours will find health and happiness and love and PRs (if that is your thing).
In short, happy new year everyone.
Another year draws quickly to a close.
Thank heavens.
I, like many, many of my friends, am plenty happy to see 2012 end. It was an "interesting" year for many of us.
While I have to say that the good stuff outweighed the not-so-good stuff, I am glad to be closing the books on the year, and I'm nothing that hopeful and excited about 2013.
The great things that happened this year:
- I finally, finally, FINALLY became an Ironman. The third time was definitely the charm and I got to finally cross that finish line in Madison at 11:06 pm last September 9th. I had a great year of training and participated in a number of new and fun events to help me prep for the big race. These included the five-hour Y rides, Hillfest, the Nature Valley Grand Prix spectator crit, Tour De Tonka, Timberman Oly tri, the Madison mini marathon and many, many, many visits to Madison to ride that bike course.
- I had the support of some great people, including my Hubby, who ran a lot of late night long runs with me. My friends Marcia and Gary, who also joined me for a lot of runs. My best bud, Natalie, cheered me on from afar (aka Lisbon, North Dakota), and I had a lot of other friends from my old running club and from work that encouraged me along the way. That made the journey (and the long hours of training) a lot of fun.
- I went back to work with my first 1/2 iron coach, Greg Rhodes, which was a very, very smart decision. He knows and understands me and my abilities; he sets up workouts that challenge me and encourages me. I can't recommend him enough and I'm looking forward to working with him in 2013 as he helps me become faster and stronger with Olys and 1/2 iron distance tris.
- I was very lucky to have been able to take some great trips with my Hubby. We were lucky to take not one, but two cruises (January and December). We both just R E L A X when we are at sea. We were able to do some fun stuff on those journeys: golfing in Cozumel; biking in St. Maarten; snorkeling in St. Thomas. We hit New York for the Marathon that wasn't; we celebrated our anniversary in Las Vegas; we spent Thanksgiving with my family in California. We are very, very, very fortunate to be able to travel and we've stored up lots of memories from these trips.
- Hubby and I have both been blessed with health. The biggest gift of all. Without it, all the rest is bupkis.
- Hubby had a great golf season this year. He won a number of his tournaments and moved up in his rankings. He played in the Golf Channel Amateur Channel's national tournament again and had a blast.
- Our kitten Oscar, who was diagnosed with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy and given two months to live back in November 2011, is still here and purring loud and proud every day. He has to take medicine twice each day, but we are so thrilled that he is doing so well. We are thankful every day that he, and the other three furry friends we live with, are all doing well and are happy cats.
- We got to attend some happy events in the lives of our friends: weddings, graduations, birthdays and more. We are lucky to be able to take part in celebrations and to give lots and lots of hugs.
I did make some dumb decisions, though. One in particular was very short-sighted. I made a move that, in retrospect, I'd make differently if I had the chance to do it again. It may not have made the best decision, but it is one I've learned from.
Dumb decisions aside, here is the thing about time and life: unlike golf, we don't get mulligans.
We do, though, get to make other decisions. Make next moves. Turn another corner. Change direction. And that remains the beauty of January 1st. The proverbial "new leaf".
I enter 2013 with a lot of resolutions and goals, including work with an nutritionist specializing with endurance athletes. I already have lots of fun triathlons and other events on the calendar and paid for, including some new ones for me: SuperiorMan (what fun it will be to jump off a boat in to Lake Superior!) -- Ironman Racine 70.3 -- the Point to LaPoint swim -- just to name a few.
While I'm really looking forward to my 2013 race calendar, I'm more importantly looking forward to my LIFE calendar and to finding ways to REALLY take the road(s) less traveled.
I also have high hopes and wishes for all of you: That 2013 will be better than 2012 (even if 2012 was your best year ever). That we won't fall off the fiscal cliff; that the economy will continue to rebound; that you and yours will find health and happiness and love and PRs (if that is your thing).
In short, happy new year everyone.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Why I am Delusional...
One word: Triathlon.
Let me explain. I am coming up on (yet another) birthday. The odometer, as they say, is turning over – again. While this birthday isn’t a milestone per se, it does represent an increasing digit that seems to happen faster and faster every year.
Let me explain. I am coming up on (yet another) birthday. The odometer, as they say, is turning over – again. While this birthday isn’t a milestone per se, it does represent an increasing digit that seems to happen faster and faster every year.
A funny quirk about the governing body that oversees all
things triathlon is that participants must race as the age they will be on
December 31st. My birthday
falls in November, so for most of any giving racing season , I race under the
age category I’ll only actually be for 42
days of the year.
On the one hand, this makes it very easy for me to adapt to
the increasing number. For example,
I’ll be 54 soon. I’ve been used to
saying I’m that age and having the world see it (in the form of the age group identifier
number that gets temporarily inked on my calf when body marked at
triathlons). So, 54 doesn’t bug me so
much.
What bothers me a little bit more than I have cared to admit
until now is that on January 1st, 2013, I’ll have to race as a 55
year old (the age I’ll be on December 31st, 2013). Fifty-five is one thing. The other – and more frightening thing – is
that I also move up Age Group categories next year.
Sayonara, Age Group 50 –
54. Welcome(?) to Age Group 55 to
59.
So why is this such a frightening proposition? It comes back to my being delusional.
You see, triathlon tricks me in to thinking that I am much,
much younger than I really am. All that
swimming, biking and running, along with some yoga and strength training thrown
in, provides for me a little “cover” of agelessness.
When I’m in the pool or on my bike or trotting down some
path, I believe that I’m just as capable – make that more than capable – than
my 15, 20 or even 30 year old self.
My best and most treasured friend and triathlon partner –
Natalie -- is 20 years younger than
me. I never, ever feel a difference in
our age when we are training. (I do
usually feel a pang of envy when she kicks my butt by running , pedaling or swimming
faster).
How can it possibly be that I’m going to be 54? How can it possibly be that I’ll be racing
against other women between 55 and 59?
(And, how, how ,HOW can it be that I’ll still
be finishing mid-to-back-of-the pack thanks to some incredibly strong and
fierce athletic machines with names like Jan and Helen, among others?)
Thanks to triathlon (and eating well, not drinking (anymore)
and trying to get enough rest), I feel totally ageless, fully strong and
luckily healthy. Unlike many of my
non-athletic friends, I’m not on medication (except for occasional use of an
inhaler used to address some very minor asthma issues); I’m not winded when I
have to walk up a flight of stairs and I’m not wearing mom jeans or appliqué
shirts. (Not that there is anything wrong with that….).
What triathlon can’t help though, is some of the wonders of
nature wrapped in the aging process like sagging skin; more jiggle than not;
and the need to see my hairdresser every six weeks to wisk away the grey. The external changes – and the rapid pace of
them -- are the things that shock me the most.
I sometimes ponder the fact that, when Natalie is my age, I’ll
be 74 – going on 75. And that these
next 20 years will undoubtedly wiz by faster than the last twenty.
Nat will undoubtedly still be racing in 2032. If I’m lucky, I might be able to squeak out
some sprints or may be an Oly or two.
I sure hope so.
Triathlon has given me so much. Besides physical strength, it has given me a
huge sense of accomplishment and self confidence. I’ve made great friends. I’ve had the luck to train and work with a
couple of wonderful Coaches; I’ve raced some great venues; I’ve experienced the beauty and wonder of
seeing the world from the middle of a lake, out in the middle of farmland, and in
the heart of a big city – sometimes all in the same day!
I know myself better though. In twenty years, the likelihood of me
looking okay in a wetsuit (or not getting slowed down by my non-aero batwings
flapping in the breeze), is pretty slim. I may just have to watch my friend race, while I just stand
on the sidelines ringing a cowbell.
That is when I hope my delusion keeps up its pace with
me. I hope I can “trick” myself in to
believing that what I look like out on the course matters less than how I FEEL
out on the course.
I’m just not a “sidelines-bell-ringing” kinda girl.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
The New York Marathon that wasn't....
In
case you were wondering how the weekend went….
As many
of you know, Warren (my husband) and I were on deck to run the New York
Marathon last weekend. I got in via the lottery and Warren was
running via the charity runner program running for UNICEF.
It would
have been Warren's second marathon and my 11th. We spent the summer and
fall training together (Warren ran with me as I was getting ready for Ironman
Wisconsin and then continued to train after Imoo was over….) Our
goal was to run the race together, not worry about our time and to just have
fun.
Enter
Hurricane Sandy.
After the
storm hit the east coast, we debated for a long time about going to run the
race. Race and city officials assured us that the race would go on,
but we weren't sure that this was the right time to run the race…. That if the
race did in fact happen, there would be a cloud over it.
We
finally decided to go (everything was already paid for; we'd either run or not,
but either way, we'd have a very interesting experience).
We arrived in New York on Friday afternoon. We stayed near Times Square and, from our location, you would not have known there had been a storm. Everything above ground from 39th Street up was running smoothly. There was power, food, water, cell coverage.
The local
news was very much 24/7 Sandy coverage. The areas hardest hit
were lower Manhattan, Staten Island, and parts of Queens/Long
Island. It was hard to imagine the water, the sand and the damage
unless you saw the footage.
We were
just leaving for a UNICEF-hosted dinner when officials announced the
cancellation of the race. Warren and I just looked at each other
and shrugged. What was there to do? On the one hand, we
were disappointed but on the other, much bigger hand, we both understood this
was the right decision.
Now on to
Plan B.
We went to the UNICEF dinner and met some really incredible people from all across the world that had trained and raised money. About half of the runners were doing New York as their very first marathon. Again, people were disappointed, but everyone understood the reasoning for cancelling the race. The organizers let the runners know that the money raised was already being put to good use, funding projects aimed towards immunizations and providing clean water. During dinner, NY locals filled others in on volunteer opportunities available throughout the city where we could help those that had been impacted by Sandy.
So on
Saturday, Warren and I walked down to lower Manhattan and volunteered for
several hours. We helped provide food and water to people (mostly
elderly) that lived in high rise apartments. Their electricity had just
been turned on that morning, so they could finally get out of their
apartments. Again, we met some really terrific people -- other volunteers
and those in need -- who were kind and generous and only wanted to help.
Sunday,
the UNICEF team met in Central Park, where we joined thousands (literally) of
other runners that created an impromptu run. We ran loops of
the park (which was the original marathon course, back in the day).
Runners from all across the world, along with wheelers and Achilles
Runners (those who are disabled) and their guides were there. We
also had many, many spectators along the course that cheered us on and provided
water (on their own dime). It was a very special event.
While not
the race we expected, Warren and I were able to accomplish what we set out to
do: we ran together, we didn't worry about time; we had fun. It was
a very interesting experience indeed.
We also
had one additional benefit we didn't plan for, but which made our
weekend: we had the chance to give back a little, providing a
little time, some kind words and a little cash (in the form of donations to
relief organizations).
Thanksgiving
is coming up. Personally, this is my favorite holiday.
I get to spend time with family, have a meal I love, and still usually find
some time to reflect back and to be grateful for the gifts that have come my
way: health, friends and family, a warm house. I'm
thankful that I have the means to help others in need and I encourage you to
give back in ways that you can to the people/places/organizations that are
meaningful to you. I'm willing to bet that you'll receive much more
in karmic returns than you ever could have expected.
You will
all be on my gratitude list this year…. Just so you know.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
To run, or not to run.....that is the question
Hubby and I are ready to go to New York on Friday morning so we can run the New York Marathon on Sunday....
As of right now, Marathon Officials say the race is on; that adjustments might be made, but come Sunday morning, runners should be able to get over to Staten Island to wait for the race to start.
Honestly, I have some mixed feelings about this.
On the one hand, I am THRILLED to be running the marathon and ECSTATIC to be able to run this with Hubby. It will be his second marathon ever and our first running one together. He has trained hard, is running really well, isn't injured and is excited to run the race.
He entered as a charity runner, raising money for UNICEF. He did a great job working to gather contributions and has been a great advocate for UNICEF and its programs.
I think it will be a blast to run this race with him and was very much looking forward to enjoying the day, the sites and the crowds with him.
Enter -- the Other Hand: Hurricane Sandy certainly left a mess not only in the city and along the coast, but deep in to many peoples lives, homes and psyches. I feel a little bad about running a "fun' event when others aren't feeling that life so "fun" right now. Under normal circumstances, resources in the City get a little tapped on marathon day. I'm imagining that, on this marathon day, police will be stretched thinner; water for runners might be better used by people that don't have any; hotel rooms might be better used by people that lost homes.
Do I feel bad enough not to go?
That is the million dollar question.
We could defer and run next year (at least I can. I got in via the lottery. I'm not sure what would happen to Hubby's number or if he'd have to raise money again next year to retain his number.). We'd both have to pay the registration fee again next year.
Honestly, we feel read to run this year. We are also ready to pump some money in to NYC economy. We are talking about trying to find a place to volunteer some of our time on Saturday to help the city. We think we should go.
What would you do?
As of right now, Marathon Officials say the race is on; that adjustments might be made, but come Sunday morning, runners should be able to get over to Staten Island to wait for the race to start.
Honestly, I have some mixed feelings about this.
On the one hand, I am THRILLED to be running the marathon and ECSTATIC to be able to run this with Hubby. It will be his second marathon ever and our first running one together. He has trained hard, is running really well, isn't injured and is excited to run the race.
He entered as a charity runner, raising money for UNICEF. He did a great job working to gather contributions and has been a great advocate for UNICEF and its programs.
I think it will be a blast to run this race with him and was very much looking forward to enjoying the day, the sites and the crowds with him.
Enter -- the Other Hand: Hurricane Sandy certainly left a mess not only in the city and along the coast, but deep in to many peoples lives, homes and psyches. I feel a little bad about running a "fun' event when others aren't feeling that life so "fun" right now. Under normal circumstances, resources in the City get a little tapped on marathon day. I'm imagining that, on this marathon day, police will be stretched thinner; water for runners might be better used by people that don't have any; hotel rooms might be better used by people that lost homes.
Do I feel bad enough not to go?
That is the million dollar question.
We could defer and run next year (at least I can. I got in via the lottery. I'm not sure what would happen to Hubby's number or if he'd have to raise money again next year to retain his number.). We'd both have to pay the registration fee again next year.
Honestly, we feel read to run this year. We are also ready to pump some money in to NYC economy. We are talking about trying to find a place to volunteer some of our time on Saturday to help the city. We think we should go.
What would you do?
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Finally: the run....
By the time I got out on to the run course, I was ecstatic to say the least.
I had hit my bike time goal getting back in to T2 by 4:30 pm, giving me plenty of time to try to finish the marathon before midnight -- 7 1/2 hours to be exact.
-----
The very first marathon I ever did was Chicago Marathon in 2000. I had only been running for one year. I had started this whole "running" thing late (I was in my early 40s) and got sucked in to the marathon mystique after seeing an ad for the Chicago Marathon with a tag line that read something like "Join 40,000 of your close, personal friends".
I turned to Hubby and said "I can't be last of 40,000, can I"? He said "No" and I signed up.
Up until then, I had really only done some 5 and 10Ks. I was in a training class that was supposed to focus on helping improve abilities for people that ran 5Ks up to 1/2 marathons. In reality, it was a class full of experienced and speedy runners who really wanted nothing to do with chubby, old, slow me.
I didn't tell a soul in that class that I had signed up for Chicago. I did one long run of 15 miles before the race. I went in to Chicago under trained, over optimistic and fairly naive.
I finished in 6:47.
Not a great finish, but a finish and the start to my illustrious running career, which hurtled me in to my even more illustrious triathlon career.
The point behind this walk down memory lane? That with 7 1/2 hours to complete the IM WI marathon, I was pretty confident that I'd cross the finish line, as I was much more trained, prepared, thinner and ready than I was in 2000, when it took me 6:47. Even after swimming 2.4 miles and biking 112.
------
My running plan was to get in to a rhythm where I'd run for 3 minutes and then walk for 1 minute. I had done all my long, slow distance runs over the summer using this model successfully. Greg, my coach, had me do most of my long runs during the week after work. His logic was that I'd be tired after work (he was right) and I'd be running at night. Tired and night running were expected for race day (night) so this was perfect.
The other prep that helped me was knowing where the mile markers were on the marathon course this year. While IM WI does not post mile markers on the actual run course, they finally posted them on the course map. (I am not great at judging distances; don't always wear my Garmin (I know. Blasphemy.).
The course map displayed miles by two, starting with 2. (So it was mile 2, 4, 6 (State Street) turn around: Then 6, 8 12 (1/2 turn around), repeat).
Mentally, I knew I could do 8 track laps (or 2 miles). I knew that, at worse, I could just talk to myself about track laps.
The 3/1 rhythm started out okay and it did "hold" to about mile 6. I did take a couple of extra long walk breaks, but I did keep a good pattern going.
My good friend from work -- Mark L, who completed IM WI in 2010 and is doing IM AZ this year, came, was waiting out near Camp Randall. The first time I saw him, things were going well.
After mile 6, I started to have my first "real" problem of the day. I got nauseous.
This was nothing new, though. Happened to me in 2010 and 2011. I had done a good job with my nutrition on the bike and was taking in coke, chicken broth, water on the run, but about mile 7, every thing looked and tasted terrible. I could not choke down any solids; the coke tasted bad; the chicken broth tasted worse.
Mark started in on me about eating. "I know, I know", I said. But ate nothing.
The rest of the Imoo Crew were staged at various parts of the course and were texting and calling each other. They all knew that I wasn't eating. They all chirped in about me taking in something to eat. It wasn't happening.
I got to the 1/2 wellllllll before the cutoff, which felt fantastic (mentally). Physically, my stomach was still a mess.
I stopped at Special Needs and grabbed a couple sips from a Coke bottle and took a salted nut roll to carry with me as I trotted -- okay, walked briskly -- out for the second loop.
I had so looked forward to that silly salted nut roll bar. I love them. They are delicious. I reserve them only for races, so they are a very special treat.
Now, the thought of this salted nut roll bar was nauseating. I was hoping that, at some point, things would turn around and I'd be able to eat it.
I kept run/walking (which was now more walk, walk, walk/run/walk walk walk) along the course. Natalie found me and was so encouraging -- I fessed up to her that I was starting to get worried about the cut offs.... She assured me that I had nothing to worry about; that there was plenty of time.
I got back to State Street for the second loop and saw Greg and his girlfriend Devon there. Greg finished in 10:14. Yes, 10:14. His swim was 53 minutes. His bike was great. He had a little 'struggle' on the run, and finished in TEN FOURTEEN. Then he showered, changed, ate and came out to see me on the course. (See why I like him so much???)
He ran with me for a block or two, providing a much needed pep talk (including "eat something"). (Yes, he ran after he finished his IM in 10:14. He is a great coach).
I got back out on to the Lakeshore Path and Gary was waiting for me. We walked along and all of a sudden, Hubby and Mark were there too. EVERYONE was telling me to eat something. I just wasn't having it.
I finally tried to eat my salted nut roll. It didn't taste good and I didn't have much saliva at the time to help chew/swallow it. I ended up spitting out most of it and throwing the bar out for the critters along the path.
Mark and Gary peeled off about mile 21 to head back to the finish. Hubby stayed with me and was chiding me to eat. I finally snapped at him a bit. "ENOUGH WITH THE EATING". I didn't mean to snap, I was just tired of hearing people to tell me to eat, when I just wanted to throw up. Or poop.
Oh! Maybe that would help! So, I told Hubby to go back to the finish and I hit the portapotty. That actually helped a bit. Got back out on to the loneliest part of the course -- the on the Lakeshore Path from Walnut Street out to Lake Mendota Drive.
This year, there were plenty of other runners around me, and most of us were walking. I started to do the math in my head again and the light bulb clicked on, in glorious bright, neon flashing colors: even if I didn't run one more step, I had plenty, plenty, plenty of time to cover 4.6 miles before midnight.
YEEE HA!
I did run, though. I ran from one light pole to the next; then walked one light pole to the next; then ran, then walked until I got back to Walnut Street.
I spotted some Cheezits on the aid table.
"CHEEZITS?" My brain said: "They look delicious!"
One of the volunteers had brought the box to the station to share with other volunteers. (Cheezits are not an official "ironman" snack...). I asked if I could have some and the volunteer cheerfully poured some in to my hand.
HEAVEN. Nutrition! Maybe better said: Calories.
The combination of knowing I was going to finish in time and having something to eat -- finally -- lifted my mood in a big way.
So did seeing Hubby again on Walnut Street. He had waited for me after I told him to go back to the finish.... he tells me that the difference between when the time I left him to when I found him again was like night and day. I was much chippier, had more bounce in my step and he knew that I would finish too.
He did have to leave me to take the short cut back to the finish. I just kept trotting along back to the Capital. I saw Mark one last time near the stadium. I got to see Marcia for a little bit on the last stretch down Dayton. I ran in to another work friend, Jeff, as I was reaching State Street. Jeff and a couple of his friends had come down to Madison to volunteer so they could sign up for the 2013 race. He is a super triathlete and has always been very supportive of my slow, plodding efforts.
I got to Capital Square and knew it was only a few turns and I'd be at the finish. I still couldn't quite muster a run, but just walked along as quickly as I could.
I saw Tiffany S -- another superstar athlete, who called me over to give me a big hug.
I saw Natalie's smiling face peering around a corner. I went to give her a great big hug.
Right before the last turn, Gary was there. Again, another huge hug.
I took that last turn and started to run. I saw the finish banner and I tried as hard as I could to just open myself up to the experience of running down the chute. There were lots of people lined up on both sides; lots of cheering; Lots of lights.
I listened for Mike Reilly to call out my name, but didn't hear a thing. (I think it was too loud or I was just in a daze).
I crossed the line jumping for joy. Literally. There are photos of me jumping up and down.
Mike and Jenny Wimmer, my bloggy and IM friends, who had started the morning as wet suit strippers, were there at the finish voluteering as catchers.
It was really wonderful to have them there for me at the end. Big hugs; big smiles.
I got my hat, my shirt, my medal. My finisher picture and then 'poof' it was back out the finish exit to find Hubby and the Imoo Crew.
I felt GREAT. Tired but great. It took three years, a lot of time, sweat and dollars, but I was -- I am -- finally an IRONMAN!
I had hit my bike time goal getting back in to T2 by 4:30 pm, giving me plenty of time to try to finish the marathon before midnight -- 7 1/2 hours to be exact.
-----
The very first marathon I ever did was Chicago Marathon in 2000. I had only been running for one year. I had started this whole "running" thing late (I was in my early 40s) and got sucked in to the marathon mystique after seeing an ad for the Chicago Marathon with a tag line that read something like "Join 40,000 of your close, personal friends".
I turned to Hubby and said "I can't be last of 40,000, can I"? He said "No" and I signed up.
Up until then, I had really only done some 5 and 10Ks. I was in a training class that was supposed to focus on helping improve abilities for people that ran 5Ks up to 1/2 marathons. In reality, it was a class full of experienced and speedy runners who really wanted nothing to do with chubby, old, slow me.
I didn't tell a soul in that class that I had signed up for Chicago. I did one long run of 15 miles before the race. I went in to Chicago under trained, over optimistic and fairly naive.
I finished in 6:47.
Not a great finish, but a finish and the start to my illustrious running career, which hurtled me in to my even more illustrious triathlon career.
The point behind this walk down memory lane? That with 7 1/2 hours to complete the IM WI marathon, I was pretty confident that I'd cross the finish line, as I was much more trained, prepared, thinner and ready than I was in 2000, when it took me 6:47. Even after swimming 2.4 miles and biking 112.
------
My running plan was to get in to a rhythm where I'd run for 3 minutes and then walk for 1 minute. I had done all my long, slow distance runs over the summer using this model successfully. Greg, my coach, had me do most of my long runs during the week after work. His logic was that I'd be tired after work (he was right) and I'd be running at night. Tired and night running were expected for race day (night) so this was perfect.
The other prep that helped me was knowing where the mile markers were on the marathon course this year. While IM WI does not post mile markers on the actual run course, they finally posted them on the course map. (I am not great at judging distances; don't always wear my Garmin (I know. Blasphemy.).
The course map displayed miles by two, starting with 2. (So it was mile 2, 4, 6 (State Street) turn around: Then 6, 8 12 (1/2 turn around), repeat).
Mentally, I knew I could do 8 track laps (or 2 miles). I knew that, at worse, I could just talk to myself about track laps.
The 3/1 rhythm started out okay and it did "hold" to about mile 6. I did take a couple of extra long walk breaks, but I did keep a good pattern going.
My good friend from work -- Mark L, who completed IM WI in 2010 and is doing IM AZ this year, came, was waiting out near Camp Randall. The first time I saw him, things were going well.
After mile 6, I started to have my first "real" problem of the day. I got nauseous.
This was nothing new, though. Happened to me in 2010 and 2011. I had done a good job with my nutrition on the bike and was taking in coke, chicken broth, water on the run, but about mile 7, every thing looked and tasted terrible. I could not choke down any solids; the coke tasted bad; the chicken broth tasted worse.
Mark started in on me about eating. "I know, I know", I said. But ate nothing.
The rest of the Imoo Crew were staged at various parts of the course and were texting and calling each other. They all knew that I wasn't eating. They all chirped in about me taking in something to eat. It wasn't happening.
I got to the 1/2 wellllllll before the cutoff, which felt fantastic (mentally). Physically, my stomach was still a mess.
I stopped at Special Needs and grabbed a couple sips from a Coke bottle and took a salted nut roll to carry with me as I trotted -- okay, walked briskly -- out for the second loop.
I had so looked forward to that silly salted nut roll bar. I love them. They are delicious. I reserve them only for races, so they are a very special treat.
Now, the thought of this salted nut roll bar was nauseating. I was hoping that, at some point, things would turn around and I'd be able to eat it.
I kept run/walking (which was now more walk, walk, walk/run/walk walk walk) along the course. Natalie found me and was so encouraging -- I fessed up to her that I was starting to get worried about the cut offs.... She assured me that I had nothing to worry about; that there was plenty of time.
I got back to State Street for the second loop and saw Greg and his girlfriend Devon there. Greg finished in 10:14. Yes, 10:14. His swim was 53 minutes. His bike was great. He had a little 'struggle' on the run, and finished in TEN FOURTEEN. Then he showered, changed, ate and came out to see me on the course. (See why I like him so much???)
He ran with me for a block or two, providing a much needed pep talk (including "eat something"). (Yes, he ran after he finished his IM in 10:14. He is a great coach).
I got back out on to the Lakeshore Path and Gary was waiting for me. We walked along and all of a sudden, Hubby and Mark were there too. EVERYONE was telling me to eat something. I just wasn't having it.
I finally tried to eat my salted nut roll. It didn't taste good and I didn't have much saliva at the time to help chew/swallow it. I ended up spitting out most of it and throwing the bar out for the critters along the path.
Mark and Gary peeled off about mile 21 to head back to the finish. Hubby stayed with me and was chiding me to eat. I finally snapped at him a bit. "ENOUGH WITH THE EATING". I didn't mean to snap, I was just tired of hearing people to tell me to eat, when I just wanted to throw up. Or poop.
Oh! Maybe that would help! So, I told Hubby to go back to the finish and I hit the portapotty. That actually helped a bit. Got back out on to the loneliest part of the course -- the on the Lakeshore Path from Walnut Street out to Lake Mendota Drive.
This year, there were plenty of other runners around me, and most of us were walking. I started to do the math in my head again and the light bulb clicked on, in glorious bright, neon flashing colors: even if I didn't run one more step, I had plenty, plenty, plenty of time to cover 4.6 miles before midnight.
YEEE HA!
I did run, though. I ran from one light pole to the next; then walked one light pole to the next; then ran, then walked until I got back to Walnut Street.
I spotted some Cheezits on the aid table.
"CHEEZITS?" My brain said: "They look delicious!"
One of the volunteers had brought the box to the station to share with other volunteers. (Cheezits are not an official "ironman" snack...). I asked if I could have some and the volunteer cheerfully poured some in to my hand.
HEAVEN. Nutrition! Maybe better said: Calories.
The combination of knowing I was going to finish in time and having something to eat -- finally -- lifted my mood in a big way.
So did seeing Hubby again on Walnut Street. He had waited for me after I told him to go back to the finish.... he tells me that the difference between when the time I left him to when I found him again was like night and day. I was much chippier, had more bounce in my step and he knew that I would finish too.
He did have to leave me to take the short cut back to the finish. I just kept trotting along back to the Capital. I saw Mark one last time near the stadium. I got to see Marcia for a little bit on the last stretch down Dayton. I ran in to another work friend, Jeff, as I was reaching State Street. Jeff and a couple of his friends had come down to Madison to volunteer so they could sign up for the 2013 race. He is a super triathlete and has always been very supportive of my slow, plodding efforts.
I got to Capital Square and knew it was only a few turns and I'd be at the finish. I still couldn't quite muster a run, but just walked along as quickly as I could.
I saw Tiffany S -- another superstar athlete, who called me over to give me a big hug.
I saw Natalie's smiling face peering around a corner. I went to give her a great big hug.
Right before the last turn, Gary was there. Again, another huge hug.
I took that last turn and started to run. I saw the finish banner and I tried as hard as I could to just open myself up to the experience of running down the chute. There were lots of people lined up on both sides; lots of cheering; Lots of lights.
I listened for Mike Reilly to call out my name, but didn't hear a thing. (I think it was too loud or I was just in a daze).
I crossed the line jumping for joy. Literally. There are photos of me jumping up and down.
Mike and Jenny Wimmer, my bloggy and IM friends, who had started the morning as wet suit strippers, were there at the finish voluteering as catchers.
It was really wonderful to have them there for me at the end. Big hugs; big smiles.
I got my hat, my shirt, my medal. My finisher picture and then 'poof' it was back out the finish exit to find Hubby and the Imoo Crew.
I felt GREAT. Tired but great. It took three years, a lot of time, sweat and dollars, but I was -- I am -- finally an IRONMAN!
Friday, October 5, 2012
Dreamin' Part II
(Okay, okay. I know this is a very long race report. Still trying to hold on to every memory of every turn of ever second from that day. That is just how much fun I had!)
Continuing then:
Clipped in at the bike start line at the top of the helix and enjoyed the coast winding down the spiral, getting adjusted in the seat; making sure my sunglasses were where I wanted them to be; making sure my bento box was velcroed shut.
Although it was sunny, it was still cool at 9:00 am but I made sure to have my bike jersey zipped and my arm warmers pulled up. I just settled in to a pedaling rhythm heading out on John Nolan Drive. There were a few other bikers around me... a couple of guys and a woman. Most were just taking their time getting in to the groove.
There is a turn off the parkway that becomes a single lane, no pass zone that leads riders to the Alliant Energy Center (which, back in the day was known as the Dane County Coliseum. I saw Bruce Springsteen there when I was in college. I wonder if my down jacket is somewhere in the Lost and Found room there.... I digress....).
The race officials harp on this as a no pass zone at the pre-race meeting. There is plenty-o-information about this section written up in Athlete materials, etc. And yet, on race morning, some idiot trys to flex his testosterone around by passing me and the very slow man in front of me as we are riding under the tunnel.
I called him out on this, saying "Hey Dude -- no pass -- you don't want that penalty this early!'.
He mea culpaed, but still zipped right on by. Whaddya do?
In my last post, I talked about elements on race day feeling very routine. This is exactly how the bike felt for me. Routine. Normal. Regular. Could have ridden that course with my eyes shut. (Okay. Maybe not.)
I had been to Madison every month from March on riding that bike course. My coach had me riding it as the stick; the stick and one loop; two loops; the whole course and,every now and then, even threw in a couple of "okay, when you are done with Midtown Road (the last of the three bitches), turn around and ride back to Old Sauk (the first bitch) and then ride them again. Just for FUN! (My coach has a 'funny' sense of humor).
I had also decided to break down the course in to very managable distance chunks. In years past, I had thought of the course as the stick and the loop. This year, the stick had five parts:
1) Monona out to Whalen Road
2& 3) Two stop signs on Whalen Road
4) Seeing the Verona Water Tower out the distance
5) passing across old PB to get in to the loops
The loop(s) got broken down by:
First yucky turn up followed by nice zip down and around Valley Road
Easy aero stretch along Hwy G
Messcherschmitt
Mt. Horeb (big hill)
Witte Road rollar coaster
Garfoot windy wonderfulness
Easy aero stretch in to Cross Plains
Stagecoach to stage for the three big hills
Old Sauk Pass
Timberman
nice long aero stretch from there
Midtown Road
Stretch back to Verona
Repeat
Staring in July, there was construction on the course that diverted the route away from Mt Horeb (yet another fun hill, but not quite as bitchy. Long, but not quite as steep). There were two detours to choose from. You could go one way, which included a bunch of big, nasty hills, including one on Norwegian Trail (would you expect less from a name like that???). The other way had less, big nasty hills, so it became my detour route of choice....
The point is is that I rode those hills a billion times over the summer. AND rode the hills of Menominee, Wisconsin, as part of the Nature Valley Family Fun weekend, where riders could ride the same routes as the professionals taking part in the Nature Valley Grand Prix. (Great event, by the by.... hills were tough and the day was hot, humid and rainy, so it was perfect IM traning, right?). AND rode the hills at Hillfest bike festival. So. This year, those three bitches (and their "scenic rolling" cousins that make up 90% of Ironman Wisconsin's bike course had nothing on me!
I only say that partly tongue in cheek. Hills are tough. Period. But I've learned that even the Pros go slow up most of them. I've learned that I just have to gear down and pedal up them. I've learned that you DO get up them and eventually there IS a down hill where you can just enjoy.
I was in a very good mood for most the first loop. I felt strong and comfortable. I drank something -- usually Infinit -- about every 15 mintues and ate a little something -- either a little bit of a Bonk Breaker, or a Fig Newton or a gummi bear -- about every 17 minutes. I chatted a little bit with other riders as I passed them.
I got to Special Needs with an average of about 15.84 miles, which was very, very good for me (considering the hills).
During training, when I'd be out in the middle of nowhere Minnesota, I'd stop at one of the many Casey's -- a gasoline station/convenience store combo -- located throughout the state. The pitstops allowed me to use the bathroom, get more water/gatorade and food. I found that plain, boring dull turkey sandwiches were morphed in to super delicious, best meal I'd had in hours, morsels of goodness. Besides filling my belly, I discovered during those training rides that I tolerated them very well as I continued the ride. No GI distress; no nauesa; no problems.
When packing my IM WI bike bag, I decided to pack half a turkey sandwich, which I DEVOURED when I got to special needs. It was perfect. I had gotten a little tired of the Fig Newtons/Bonk Breakers/Gummis nutrition plan. Having something different -- and tested -- to eat was great.
Although I had a tiny nag in my head about the second loop (and I remembered all too well how lousy I felt pulling out of special needs and riding towards the second loop in 2010), I told that nag to shut up and I pedaled off with some confidence.
I was wearning a GPS device from myathletelive.com. This allowed people to find me all along the course. It was great for Natalie, Warren and Lance, because they could find me on the course to see me a number of times. It was a GREAT boost to see them and have them cheer for me.
I stopped a couple of times on the second loop. Once to get water to refill some nutrition; twice to quickly stretch my back. But the second loop went astonishingly well.
By the time I hit the turn back on to Whalen to go back in to Madison, was smiling from ear to ear. I had really ridden well and was confident that my bike time would be much better, which would afford me more time on the run.
The only slightly unfortunate part about the ride back was that we headed straight in to a headwind for most of the last seven miles....but again, since I had trained in wind all summer, this was less of an issue for me than I had feared.
I rode back in to transition 7 hours, 29 minutes and 53 seconds after leaving it. One hour and one minute FASTER than I rode in 2011.
My friends Gary, Marcia and Marty were volunteering in the T2 bag area, so I got big cheers from them as I came in to change for the run.
Marcia came in to the change area with me and helped me get set up (dry clothes, water belt, etc). I started out for the run but had enough time that I stopped for a quick, three minute massage focused on my lower back. H E A V E N.
Then out the door, porta potty break and on to the run. I saw Warren, Natalie and Lance right out of the gate, chatted with them as I walked along and then broke in to my (hoped) 3 minute run/1 minute walk routine.
The night was still young!
Continuing then:
Clipped in at the bike start line at the top of the helix and enjoyed the coast winding down the spiral, getting adjusted in the seat; making sure my sunglasses were where I wanted them to be; making sure my bento box was velcroed shut.
Although it was sunny, it was still cool at 9:00 am but I made sure to have my bike jersey zipped and my arm warmers pulled up. I just settled in to a pedaling rhythm heading out on John Nolan Drive. There were a few other bikers around me... a couple of guys and a woman. Most were just taking their time getting in to the groove.
There is a turn off the parkway that becomes a single lane, no pass zone that leads riders to the Alliant Energy Center (which, back in the day was known as the Dane County Coliseum. I saw Bruce Springsteen there when I was in college. I wonder if my down jacket is somewhere in the Lost and Found room there.... I digress....).
The race officials harp on this as a no pass zone at the pre-race meeting. There is plenty-o-information about this section written up in Athlete materials, etc. And yet, on race morning, some idiot trys to flex his testosterone around by passing me and the very slow man in front of me as we are riding under the tunnel.
I called him out on this, saying "Hey Dude -- no pass -- you don't want that penalty this early!'.
He mea culpaed, but still zipped right on by. Whaddya do?
In my last post, I talked about elements on race day feeling very routine. This is exactly how the bike felt for me. Routine. Normal. Regular. Could have ridden that course with my eyes shut. (Okay. Maybe not.)
I had been to Madison every month from March on riding that bike course. My coach had me riding it as the stick; the stick and one loop; two loops; the whole course and,every now and then, even threw in a couple of "okay, when you are done with Midtown Road (the last of the three bitches), turn around and ride back to Old Sauk (the first bitch) and then ride them again. Just for FUN! (My coach has a 'funny' sense of humor).
I had also decided to break down the course in to very managable distance chunks. In years past, I had thought of the course as the stick and the loop. This year, the stick had five parts:
1) Monona out to Whalen Road
2& 3) Two stop signs on Whalen Road
4) Seeing the Verona Water Tower out the distance
5) passing across old PB to get in to the loops
The loop(s) got broken down by:
First yucky turn up followed by nice zip down and around Valley Road
Easy aero stretch along Hwy G
Messcherschmitt
Mt. Horeb (big hill)
Witte Road rollar coaster
Garfoot windy wonderfulness
Easy aero stretch in to Cross Plains
Stagecoach to stage for the three big hills
Old Sauk Pass
Timberman
nice long aero stretch from there
Midtown Road
Stretch back to Verona
Repeat
Staring in July, there was construction on the course that diverted the route away from Mt Horeb (yet another fun hill, but not quite as bitchy. Long, but not quite as steep). There were two detours to choose from. You could go one way, which included a bunch of big, nasty hills, including one on Norwegian Trail (would you expect less from a name like that???). The other way had less, big nasty hills, so it became my detour route of choice....
The point is is that I rode those hills a billion times over the summer. AND rode the hills of Menominee, Wisconsin, as part of the Nature Valley Family Fun weekend, where riders could ride the same routes as the professionals taking part in the Nature Valley Grand Prix. (Great event, by the by.... hills were tough and the day was hot, humid and rainy, so it was perfect IM traning, right?). AND rode the hills at Hillfest bike festival. So. This year, those three bitches (and their "scenic rolling" cousins that make up 90% of Ironman Wisconsin's bike course had nothing on me!
I only say that partly tongue in cheek. Hills are tough. Period. But I've learned that even the Pros go slow up most of them. I've learned that I just have to gear down and pedal up them. I've learned that you DO get up them and eventually there IS a down hill where you can just enjoy.
I was in a very good mood for most the first loop. I felt strong and comfortable. I drank something -- usually Infinit -- about every 15 mintues and ate a little something -- either a little bit of a Bonk Breaker, or a Fig Newton or a gummi bear -- about every 17 minutes. I chatted a little bit with other riders as I passed them.
I got to Special Needs with an average of about 15.84 miles, which was very, very good for me (considering the hills).
During training, when I'd be out in the middle of nowhere Minnesota, I'd stop at one of the many Casey's -- a gasoline station/convenience store combo -- located throughout the state. The pitstops allowed me to use the bathroom, get more water/gatorade and food. I found that plain, boring dull turkey sandwiches were morphed in to super delicious, best meal I'd had in hours, morsels of goodness. Besides filling my belly, I discovered during those training rides that I tolerated them very well as I continued the ride. No GI distress; no nauesa; no problems.
When packing my IM WI bike bag, I decided to pack half a turkey sandwich, which I DEVOURED when I got to special needs. It was perfect. I had gotten a little tired of the Fig Newtons/Bonk Breakers/Gummis nutrition plan. Having something different -- and tested -- to eat was great.
Although I had a tiny nag in my head about the second loop (and I remembered all too well how lousy I felt pulling out of special needs and riding towards the second loop in 2010), I told that nag to shut up and I pedaled off with some confidence.
I was wearning a GPS device from myathletelive.com. This allowed people to find me all along the course. It was great for Natalie, Warren and Lance, because they could find me on the course to see me a number of times. It was a GREAT boost to see them and have them cheer for me.
I stopped a couple of times on the second loop. Once to get water to refill some nutrition; twice to quickly stretch my back. But the second loop went astonishingly well.
By the time I hit the turn back on to Whalen to go back in to Madison, was smiling from ear to ear. I had really ridden well and was confident that my bike time would be much better, which would afford me more time on the run.
The only slightly unfortunate part about the ride back was that we headed straight in to a headwind for most of the last seven miles....but again, since I had trained in wind all summer, this was less of an issue for me than I had feared.
I rode back in to transition 7 hours, 29 minutes and 53 seconds after leaving it. One hour and one minute FASTER than I rode in 2011.
My friends Gary, Marcia and Marty were volunteering in the T2 bag area, so I got big cheers from them as I came in to change for the run.
Marcia came in to the change area with me and helped me get set up (dry clothes, water belt, etc). I started out for the run but had enough time that I stopped for a quick, three minute massage focused on my lower back. H E A V E N.
Then out the door, porta potty break and on to the run. I saw Warren, Natalie and Lance right out of the gate, chatted with them as I walked along and then broke in to my (hoped) 3 minute run/1 minute walk routine.
The night was still young!
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Still livin' the dream.....Part I
I'm going to have to take down that Ironman Wisconsin countdown timer pretty soon. It is sad to see that 16 days have passed since the race -- and funny (in that "gee, isn't the passing of time such a weird, ironic, I-don't-get-it"funny kind of way) that 16 days BEFORE the race, it seemed that the race would never get here and I was unsure about the day and the results.
And, yet, the day came and went and here I am.... still looking at my medal, my shirt and my hat to make sure that I actually did cross the finish line this year.
I did, and I'm damn proud of it!
Honestly, I couldn't have asked for a better day. Okay.... if I was pressed, it would have been nice for less wind on the bike course, but given the fact that it was hot, humid and windy all flipping summer, I had plenty of practice riding in to the teeth of the wind. The biggest bummer on the wind front was that I lost some mph on some nice down hills on the section of Witte Road and it also was a little bit of a grind coming back in to the city.
But really, the temperature was perfect; it was sunny but not enough to melt you; Lake Monona was calm and extremely comfortable; the evening was a perfect night for a 26.2 mile run.
Race morning, Warren drove and he and Lance dropped me and Natalie off at the Terrace while they parked the car. Natalie and I wandered through the crowd so I could drop off my special needs bags.... and then we reconnected with Warren and Lance. They all waited for me while I got body marked and went in to transition to fill up my bottles with Infinit and bento box with Bonk Breakers, fig newtons and gummi bears.
I felt pretty calm and everything was very routine. This is key component of my entire day. "Routine". I had been in Madison a lot over the year and had done plenty of swimming (including 2.4 miles in Lake Monona at the Madison Open Water swim) and rode that dang bike course -- forward and backward --about a million times AND ran on the marathon course -- especially the sections that had given me trouble in the past that everything felt entirely normal, comfortable and "usual".
Once my wetsuit was on, we all went down to the swim start. I eventually got in the line of athletes getting ready to get in to the water. I edged my way in to the water, but found a spot on the side where I could just stand for a while. There was still plenty of time before the pros started (at 6:50 am), so I felt no need to get in to the water only to tread and get hyped up.
I chatted with a woman from Colorado who had the same plan as me -- wait until we really 'had' to get in to the water. She looked to be older than me (I always take heart in that....) and seemed to be pretty confident that her day would go well. I wish I had gotten her name -- although I did check the results and there was at least one woman from Colorado, older than me, that finished. I am hoping it was her.
The pros took off and I waited another little bit of time and then got in to the water. I found a nice spot to just tread water and wait that was closer to the shore and more towards the front the group of swimmers. Not that I'm fast: I wanted to try to take advantage of the drag from others in front of me.
Mike Reilly, who announces at most of the Ironman events, does a lot of revving up the athletes and spectators before, during and after the race. When he asked "Who is going to be an Ironman today?", this was the first year that I said "I am" and I actually thought it was possible. Although I was a little worried about the run cutoffs getting to me again this year.... I was pretty confident that all would be well.
BOOM -- the cannon went off and so did 2,400 plus swimmers. I'm used to getting jostled for the first 5 or 10 minutes of the swim, so that was really nothing new. I just swam, settled in to my stroke, and watched the scene on the shoreline pass by as I turned to breathe.
The swim course was changed to just one loop this year (in years past, it was a two-loop course). The first turn buoy -- the famous MOO buoy-- came up pretty quickly for me and I was still in a pack of people. The turn is called the Moo buoy because, traditionally, swimmers will lift their heads out of the water and MOO as loud as they can before starting the next swim leg. I think that is a blast, and I just mooed my little heart out.
The second turn came and now I was on the third and longest leg of the swim. It seemed to go on forever. I breathe to my right side, so I swim on the inside of the buoys so it is easier for me to site. I kept thinking "oh, there is the next turn buoy". Nope. Kept swimming. "Okay, there. I see it now". Nope. Kept swimming. "Now?" Nope. "Jeezus. Where is that buoy????" Swim, swim, swim.
Eventually it did appear on the horizon and we made a quick jog back toward shore, with one eventual turn left again to swim in the stretch. Again, because I breathe to the right, this was a leg I liked because I could watch the shore go by.
Got out of the water at 1:42:09 -- slightly slower than I wanted, but well within my tolerance. (As a side note, my awesome, rocking coach, Greg Rhodes, who was also doing IM WI, got out of the water in 53 minutes. Yes. 53 minutes.
Warren, Natalie and Lance were right near the swim exit, so I got to give them a big smile as I ran to the wetsuit strippers. On my way, I saw the rest of the Imoo Crew (Gary, Marcia and Marty). Once in the wetsuit removal area, I looked for my friends Mike and Jenny Wimmer, who were volunteering. I got to them, and then pulled off my wetsuit in a jiffy and sent me on my way up the helix.
Running up the helix, I saw Cathy Yndestad and some of my friends from the place I trained last year. Big boost to see all of them.... ran in to transition, got changed and trotted off to my bike. Got on, got out and started my ride.
And, yet, the day came and went and here I am.... still looking at my medal, my shirt and my hat to make sure that I actually did cross the finish line this year.
I did, and I'm damn proud of it!
Honestly, I couldn't have asked for a better day. Okay.... if I was pressed, it would have been nice for less wind on the bike course, but given the fact that it was hot, humid and windy all flipping summer, I had plenty of practice riding in to the teeth of the wind. The biggest bummer on the wind front was that I lost some mph on some nice down hills on the section of Witte Road and it also was a little bit of a grind coming back in to the city.
But really, the temperature was perfect; it was sunny but not enough to melt you; Lake Monona was calm and extremely comfortable; the evening was a perfect night for a 26.2 mile run.
Race morning, Warren drove and he and Lance dropped me and Natalie off at the Terrace while they parked the car. Natalie and I wandered through the crowd so I could drop off my special needs bags.... and then we reconnected with Warren and Lance. They all waited for me while I got body marked and went in to transition to fill up my bottles with Infinit and bento box with Bonk Breakers, fig newtons and gummi bears.
I felt pretty calm and everything was very routine. This is key component of my entire day. "Routine". I had been in Madison a lot over the year and had done plenty of swimming (including 2.4 miles in Lake Monona at the Madison Open Water swim) and rode that dang bike course -- forward and backward --about a million times AND ran on the marathon course -- especially the sections that had given me trouble in the past that everything felt entirely normal, comfortable and "usual".
Once my wetsuit was on, we all went down to the swim start. I eventually got in the line of athletes getting ready to get in to the water. I edged my way in to the water, but found a spot on the side where I could just stand for a while. There was still plenty of time before the pros started (at 6:50 am), so I felt no need to get in to the water only to tread and get hyped up.
I chatted with a woman from Colorado who had the same plan as me -- wait until we really 'had' to get in to the water. She looked to be older than me (I always take heart in that....) and seemed to be pretty confident that her day would go well. I wish I had gotten her name -- although I did check the results and there was at least one woman from Colorado, older than me, that finished. I am hoping it was her.
The pros took off and I waited another little bit of time and then got in to the water. I found a nice spot to just tread water and wait that was closer to the shore and more towards the front the group of swimmers. Not that I'm fast: I wanted to try to take advantage of the drag from others in front of me.
Mike Reilly, who announces at most of the Ironman events, does a lot of revving up the athletes and spectators before, during and after the race. When he asked "Who is going to be an Ironman today?", this was the first year that I said "I am" and I actually thought it was possible. Although I was a little worried about the run cutoffs getting to me again this year.... I was pretty confident that all would be well.
BOOM -- the cannon went off and so did 2,400 plus swimmers. I'm used to getting jostled for the first 5 or 10 minutes of the swim, so that was really nothing new. I just swam, settled in to my stroke, and watched the scene on the shoreline pass by as I turned to breathe.
The swim course was changed to just one loop this year (in years past, it was a two-loop course). The first turn buoy -- the famous MOO buoy-- came up pretty quickly for me and I was still in a pack of people. The turn is called the Moo buoy because, traditionally, swimmers will lift their heads out of the water and MOO as loud as they can before starting the next swim leg. I think that is a blast, and I just mooed my little heart out.
The second turn came and now I was on the third and longest leg of the swim. It seemed to go on forever. I breathe to my right side, so I swim on the inside of the buoys so it is easier for me to site. I kept thinking "oh, there is the next turn buoy". Nope. Kept swimming. "Okay, there. I see it now". Nope. Kept swimming. "Now?" Nope. "Jeezus. Where is that buoy????" Swim, swim, swim.
Eventually it did appear on the horizon and we made a quick jog back toward shore, with one eventual turn left again to swim in the stretch. Again, because I breathe to the right, this was a leg I liked because I could watch the shore go by.
Got out of the water at 1:42:09 -- slightly slower than I wanted, but well within my tolerance. (As a side note, my awesome, rocking coach, Greg Rhodes, who was also doing IM WI, got out of the water in 53 minutes. Yes. 53 minutes.
Warren, Natalie and Lance were right near the swim exit, so I got to give them a big smile as I ran to the wetsuit strippers. On my way, I saw the rest of the Imoo Crew (Gary, Marcia and Marty). Once in the wetsuit removal area, I looked for my friends Mike and Jenny Wimmer, who were volunteering. I got to them, and then pulled off my wetsuit in a jiffy and sent me on my way up the helix.
Running up the helix, I saw Cathy Yndestad and some of my friends from the place I trained last year. Big boost to see all of them.... ran in to transition, got changed and trotted off to my bike. Got on, got out and started my ride.
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