Unveiling

Him (excitedly):  Tell me about the race!!

Me:  Well, it was OK.  There's really not much to tell.  There was a new bike course with some hills.

Him:  That's it?  Fine, you don't want to talk.

Me:  No, it's not that... there's just not... I just didn't... whatever.  I just felt like I ran slow compared to last year.  My first mile was, like, a 7:15.  It's just a stupid sprint distance.  Whatever.  It doesn't matter.

Him:  Do you even hear yourself? .. I don't get it....

Me:  I just, I've lost a lot of confidence in the last couple of weeks.

Him:  You lost confidence because...??  Because you couldn't keep up with the professional triathletes at camp?  Because everyone who beat you up the hill has been to Kona and most of them have been on the podium at Kona?  You lost confidence because you were the next one to the top?   You lost confidence because you were asked to swim in the coaches' lane?

Me:  I'm not in competition with them.  It's not that.  I just didn't do as well as I had hoped to do.  I still have a lot of work to do and I don't think I'm ready yet.

*************
This is the conversation that went on as we drove around running errands on Sunday.  I had raced Tri 4 The Cure that morning, a super-sprint distance race to raise awareness for breast cancer.  And regardless of if it makes sense or not, this is how I was (am?) feeling.  I fight this sort of self talk.  Most of the time thoughts get quashed in my mind before I even finish entertaining them.  But for some reason, between camp and being exhausted from moving, I've been in a downward mental spiral.  I know I need to get this under control, and STAT.  Texas is just around the corner and if I don't go into it believing I can win, I won't.

Surrounded by some insanely talented women.

On Monday morning I had an hour on the treadmill so I turned on one of my favorite podcasts to boost my spirits a little bit.  If you haven't listened to this one, I highly recommend it.  My coach, Hillary, is obviously on a completely different playing field when it comes to athletic talent and ability, but she knows a little something about having to work to reach her goals.  Having her believe in me, and believe that I can accomplish my dream, restores my confidence and keeps me focused on the prize.

Here is what I heard:

"Look where you want to go, and go where you look..... The person who works the hardest does win in the end, if, if, IF you're willing to keep showing up longer and again and again and again after everyone else gives up.  It may take you twice as long as it takes most people, but if you're willing to keep showing up until you get where you want to go... you can't stop relentless forward progress.  If you're the one who keeps showing you, you will eventually get there...   

What I realized is what actually is apparently really difficult for most people is to find a way.... find a way to make your goal happen.  What is really easy, is to find all the things in the way.  Anyone can find an excuse.   

Look where you want to go, keep showing up, every day, keep showing up after everyone else has quit.  If you do that you'll be too busy to see everything that's in your way, keep your eyes focused where you want to go, and you'll go where you're looking."

Obviously there's a lot more lentils and potatoes in her talk, but these are the key points that impact me.  That speak to me.  When I am in the bulk of my training, I am up every day at 4 am, getting my training done before heading into work for a 10-12 hour shift, and then I head home, eat a quick bite and go to bed by 8 pm to make sure I get a solid 8 hours of rest.  I am so busy that I don't have time to think about what everyone else is doing.  I can only focus on me.  What I am doing to prepare.

By staying focused, I am not looking for obstacles.  I'm not looking for all the things that are in my way, all the possible excuses.  I don't blink when the alarm goes off.  I don't hit the snooze button.  I get up and start my day.  I would love to have a flexible schedule, or a job that allows me to work from home so I could train as much as I want.  I don't.  (But I do have an office full of colleagues who encourage me, and cyber cheer on race day.)

And I am willing.  I am willing to keep showing up.  Again and again and again and again.  I am willing to do the work.  I am willing to make the effort.  I am not afraid of failure.  And I believe that this will happen.  This one, crazy, stupid dream.  It will happen.

And so it seems an appropriate segue to unveil the name of my gem.  I announced on Facebook last week that I was having trouble coming up with a name and asked my friends to help me out.  I was shocked with the number of responses that I got, and even more with the number of legit names that people threw out.  Of course there were a few that garnered a laugh, but amid the sea of possibilities one name struck me.  One name caused instant goosebumps and chills.

My gem.

Hope.

A name I never would have come up with myself.  I mean, really?  Hope?  It's so... pink.  And fluffy.  But the name, Hope, embodies the essence of this entire process for me.  Hope.  Without it, I would have given up long ago.  I would have thrown my name into the Legacy lottery and been done with it all.  I wouldn't have cared.  But I do care.  I HOPE that one day I will qualify for Kona.  And it will be on my own two feet that I carried this dream into reality.

My friend who suggested Hope is British, and suggested it in honor of the Hope Diamond.  I did a little research into the Hope Diamond and though I was a little nervous at all the suggestions of a curse, I choose to believe the like the Hope Diamond, the curse will afflict anyone who steals her from my possession.  (Maybe she'll even inflict a little curse on those who took my beloved E'ly...)

I would like to give a shout out to a couple of other suggestions that I really loved:

One friend suggested Adamas.  She said, "It is the Greek word diamond is derived from.  It means unbreakable.  I saw the dude fall into you when you came out of the water in Tempe.  I thought you were going down.  You barely flinched.  So, I am sure that bike is as unbreakable as you."

And two people suggested Zorro, the name of my beloved kitty that I put to sleep one day shy of a year ago.  My husband had thought I would choose this name, because Zorro is always with me.  

This weekend Hope and I will be tackling Oceanside 70.3- my favorite triathlon!  I have raced Oceanside 5 times previously.  I look forward to tackling the bike course on my new gem.  She is so light, and she does love to climb!  I've already laid down bets with my swim club.  This year we opted to go for the 'who gets closest to their predicted time' challenge since we are not actually in competition with each other.  Beers are on the line, and I've set out a harsh but attainable goal for myself.

Finding Kona: Arizona Edition

This is a story without a beginning.  It is a story without an end.  It is a story about hope and triumph.  It is a story about picking yourself back up when you fall short.  Again.  It is a story about finding the one thing that makes your blood race, and makes you want to get out of bed at 4 am.  Every. single. day.  This is a story about finding Kona.

Are you familiar with this story?  I feel like I've written it before.  The details change.  The characters in the story change.  The setting is a little bit different.  But the ending is unchanged.  Isn't the ending of a good book or movie what keeps you coming back for more?  Sometimes it leaves you hanging or it doesn't quite end the way you had hoped.  You read it again, or look for the sequel hoping that this time, it will be different.  Only when the ending leaves you satisfied, fulfilled, can you put the book down and walk away.  

After Ironman Wisconsin I became aware of a few things.  I need to get stronger on the bike.  I promised a friend of mine that I would not say "I am not a good cyclist".  If I was not a good cyclist, my dream would not be within reach and I should just throw my name into the lottery.  But, my bike leg is where I can make the most improvement and set myself up for the run I know I have in me.

The other thing I realized is that no one is going to hand me my dream on a silver platter.  I have to be willing to go all in every single time.  I have to be willing to make small improvements that will one day yield the result I long for.  Each time I put myself on the line and take away the "play-it-safe" card I will learn something new, something valuable that I can transfer into progress the next time around.

This version of Finding Kona takes place in my backyard playground.  I have raced Ironman Arizona a total of 6 times.  No two races are the same, and this year was no exception.  In the days leading up to the race the weather turned cool and windy.  Very windy.  It is rare to not have wind on the beeline, but the caliber of wind on race day exceeded anything we've seen since the race moved to November in 2008.

I knew I had to adjust my vision a little bit, and not try to fight the wind.  We all had to find a way to deal with it, or drop out.   Since you've read this story before I'll leave out every single detail and thought that crossed my brain during the day... and stick with the good stuff.  Since I consider this my diary more than anything, and somewhat of a race journal, I will probably bore you with details that don't matter to you... but next year when I re-read this it will spark the memory of lessons learned and remind me of what I am going to do differently.  So grab a bag of popcorn and settle in for the ride.

The Swim
So, here's the deal.  I haven't shared a lot of details about my training this year for 2 reasons.  1.  I am paying for a coach to give me workouts.  If you want someone to give you a plan, hire your own coach.  2.  I feel that her workouts are part of what make Hillary a great coach.  They are her trade secrets.  I feel it would be disrespectful to spill every detail of her assignments.  That said, the swim alone is proof of her awesomeness.  I was consistently swimming 1:01.  Every race.  For over a year.  I could swim 1:01 in my sleep.  I was convinced, as was everyone else, that I didn't need to swim any faster nor could I.  It wouldn't benefit me to swim faster.

But, what I have learned over the last 10 months is that I don't necessarily need to swim more, to swim better.  My swim workouts are equal parts torture and recovery.  I will have sessions that are 4-6k long that are designed simply to help me recover from a long, hard build.  And I can push myself hard in the pool day after day and not have it effect my bike/ run workouts.  And by following her magic day after day for months on end, it translated into my best IM swim ever.

Final kiss before the cannon.  It's our version of "good luck, be safe, see you at the finish."

I lined up as I always do, front right.  No matter how much I love swimming, and am comfortable in open water, I will NEVER get used to having the shit beat out of me.  I would much rather avoid the chaos, swim my own swim, even if it means I miss the draft for the first half.  So at swim buoy number 8, I merged my line with the main pack a couple hundred yards before the first turn.  Aside from the first 300 meters or so where I felt trapped between a couple of big guys, I had free space.  Once I was able to slide past them, it was smooth sailing.  And I cruised.

The best thing about Hillary's swim preparation is that I no longer feel any fatigue coming out of the water.  In the past, I was comfortable and swam fine, but by the end my shoulders were tired.  Tired shoulders are not how I want to start a bike ride where I spend 100% of my time in the aero bars.  This year I've had two swims at 59 minutes and change.  For some reason, before Arizona I just felt like I had a 58 in me.  Nevertheless, I was shocked to get out of the water and actually see that I had swum a 58!

Swim finish!  

Swim:  58:24

T1:  3:55
I have been spoiled the last few years to have a friend of mine volunteer in the change tent.  I am used to having her just stand by my side quietly, fend off all other volunteers, say a few words of encouragement and then pack up my shit when I leave.  This year she was not able to get into the change tent because the volunteer slots filled up quickly.  I love having the change tent volunteers, and in no way do I mean anything negative, but I have had (at other races) volunteers dump my bag out and start going through stuff which slows me down.  So as I raced into the tent I declined any offers of help, threw my shoes on as fast as I could, and took off.  I think I was about 30 seconds slower than my usual at Arizona but that may have been because some dude threw himself onto the carpet in front of me, tripping me as I was running through the wetsuit stripping area.  I might have thrown out a 4-letter word as I struggled to not hit the deck 2.4 miles into my day.

The Bike
Wind is my kryptonite.  Everyone who knows me, knows this about me.  I. hate. wind.  Some people hate heat.  Some people hate the cold.  Some people hate hills.  I hate wind.  This year I have been working hard to be more comfortable in my aero bars in the wind.  My coach has given me great advice on how to deal with it, how to position myself and maintain confidence.  I have to say, it worked and I was very comfortable on Sunday.  I still hated the wind, but I did not get blown all over the road.  I was slower.  I felt like I was going backwards at times, but I was perfectly seated square in my saddle, in aero, the entire day.

Usually the fast girls catch me near the start of the 3rd loop of the bike.  This year I expected to see them come by me a lot earlier as I suffered a flat near mile 10 and lost 5 minutes.  I've never had a flat in a race, and I have to say, it was the perfect race for it to happen.  Since I wasn't going to have my fastest bike split anyway (due to wind) I was like, oh, I have a flat.  And got to work changing it.  As I got my front wheel off the support vehicle pulled up and the guy jumped out, grabbed my wheel and started changing it for me.  Rather than fight for the right to change a flat, I took the opportunity to start eating and shoved a few pieces of a bonk breaker into my mouth.  Even the girl in the support van remarked on how calm I was.  What could I do?  Pitch a fit?  Cry because I got a flat?  Dude, I still had 100 miles to go.  There was no time for crying.

Soon enough I was back on the road.  Sometime in the 5 minutes I was on the side of the road, DB came by me.  He waited to make sure I had everything I needed and then took off up the beeline.  I tried to keep him in sight as long as I could.  The first loop seemed very lonely on the bike course.  The usual packs of cyclists were strangely absent in the wind.  Later I learned that I was 77th person out of the water which explains why I felt so alone on the bike course!

Managing the gusts on the bike.  

I kept my head down, kept shoving food in my face and kept drinking.  I have been working on increasing my calorie intake on the bike.  I have been racing on 100 calories per hour on the bike which causes me to run out of energy very early on the run course, generally 6-8 miles in.  I literally felt like I was eating non-stop during the bike ride but was very happy to report to coach on Monday that I ate 250 calories per hour on the bike!  As expected near the start of loop 3, the first fast girl came by me.  I waited and waited for more girls and never saw any.  I started to think they had passed me when I had my flat, but it turned out they were still behind me.  I guess everyone was slower in the wind than expected.  As I came upon the final 4 miles, I rode up next to my good friend and training partner CH.  'Let's get this shit done!', I shouted and we took off.  

Bike 5:45:38

T2 1:19
T2 is a blur.  I literally threw off my helmet, threw on my Newtons and carried everything in my hand as I exited the tent, putting on my race number belt and visor as I ran.

The Run
I was aiming for sub-4 hours on the marathon.  In truth I had trained for a 3:45.  Why do I put this out there?   A lot of people don't publicize their goals because one-coach-or-another told them not to.  Or because they don't want to feel bad if they don't reach their goals.  Or for a variety of different reasons.  I read once in a magazine why I shouldn't state my goals publicly, but to be honest the reasons never made any sense to me.  I've never been afraid of asking for what I want.  Obviously I don't always get it on the first try.  (Or second.  Or third.)  But one day, I am convinced I will.  And then I want EVERYONE to celebrate with me because they will know how long I have worked for this.

The run was going very smoothly.  It wasn't comfortable.  It wasn't easy.  But I was hitting my goal times.  I took the advice of Hillary and literally ran the marathon one mile at a time.  Every single mile was a new challenge.  Could I hit my time now?  OK, how about now?  And 8 miles later... now?  I was taking in calories on schedule.  I was well hydrated.  As the miles progressed I hurt more and more.

I caught up with CH around mile 11 and we fell into stride together.  We never said a word to each other, except once I think I remarked about how f**king hard this felt.  We just ran.  It was so nice to have her there as a distraction as we entered the start of the second loop.  There were athletes who were finishing the race, and we still had 12 miles to go.  We ran and ran, and she was with me when the final podium finisher in my age group passed me.  I almost felt sorry for myself for a minute, but then remembered that I still had the opportunity to make this my best run ever.

Running with my amazing training partner, CH.

We rounded the north side of the lake and soon passed Hillary near the 202 overpass.  She screamed some encouragement at me and it gave me a little boost.  Somewhere near the marina on the way back CH picked up the pace and I couldn't stay with her.  I chased her up and over Curry and back under the 202.  Soon she was out of sight.  Hillary was there again and told me I ALWAYS have another gear, even when I don't think I do.  I let those words sink in and I picked up the pace.  I repeated her words over and over in my head the final 3 miles.  I always have another gear.  I always have another gear.  Step by step by step.  As I crossed the bridge at Priest I felt like I was flying by people.  It was getting dark and I had a hard time distinguishing who was who on course.  What if there was someone in my age group up ahead?  It spurred me on to go a little faster.

Rounding the final 2 corners to the finish line were surreal.  I could hear the crowds cheering.  A couple friends jumped into the road to spur me on and in my delirium I staggered a little bit.  I heard Mike Reilly call my name, 'you are an ironman!'  And when I didn't respond, he called me out again.  I said, 'you are an ironman!!!'  I raised my hands over head as relief crossed my face and I crossed the line.  A PR by 1 minute.  But my best Ironman marathon by 14 minutes!

Run 4:03:45

The finish!!  No matter how the day goes, the finish is meant to be a celebration.

Total time:  10:53:01

The volunteers caught me (literally) and quickly delivered me into the arms of my teammates.  Hillary was there and gave me a huge hug.  I was not on the podium, but this was a big step in the right direction and I was very happy with the progress.

Hug from the boss at the finish.  

We camped out at the finish line and waited for DB to finish.  I had passed him around mile 14 of the run and he finished about 30 minutes behind me.  A few seconds behind him was another friend and training partner MT who, despite the wind, had a PR of over an hour!!  Seeing her achieve this goal was definitely the highlight of my day.  I know how hard she has worked over the last 2 years to achieve this.

Celebrating a PR with MT!!

DB curled into his usual fetal position at the finish, and with the sun down I was getting cold.  A friend KM helped me gather our bikes and gear bags and bring them back to the finish line.  We said our goodbyes and hobbled back to the hotel a half mile away.

Monday morning was chaos.  I generally don't sleep after Ironman because my body is too sore and I can't get comfortable.  This race was no exception.  We headed out to breakfast early and then over to Tempe Beach Park to talk to some friends in line for 2015 registration.  We perused the gear tent and then headed back to the hotel to pack up.  We made it back to Tempe Beach Park for the awards ceremony and Kona allocation.  Many of my TriScottsdale teammates were on the podium receiving awards and several of them are heading to Kona next fall.

My age group was awarded 3 slots.  The final slot rolled to 4th place.  I finished 6th.  I would be lying if I said this didn't sting a little.  But I do not have any regrets about my race.  I know that my day will come and when it does it will be all the sweeter for the effort I have put in.  Next stop:  Texas.

***********************************

It takes a village to compete in Ironman.  And mine is no exception.  Thank you, Hillary Biscay, for taking a chance on me and for teaching me so much in the last 10 months.  I am looking forward to 2015 and getting stronger, faster, better. The day that I stand on the podium and take my certificate to race on the Big Island will be the proudest day of my life.  I can literally taste the salty sea air, and it motivates me to work hard every day.  

Thank you to my husband, DB.  Your endless support and encouragement keep me going.  Thank you for tolerating my mood swings, the grouchiness, and my 7 pm bedtime.

Thank you to Nate and Brandon at Endurance Rehab.  I was not made to be a runner, but with your help I am.

Thank you to my Team HPB teammates.  Knowing that there are others who experience similar feelings of fear, doubt, elation, and joy makes this sport that much more enjoyable.  I love sharing this journey with all of you.  Many of you I got to know at the team camp last spring, and it has been so much fun watching each of you achieve goals over the year.  Can't wait for March!!

Thank you TriScottsdale!  Best. Support crew. EVER!  Running past your tents on the run course gave me the boost I needed to PR my run by 14 minutes.  Thank you for your support and cheerleading!!  I cannot wait to represent one day at the big dance.  I will make you proud!

Thank you to Paraic and his team at Cyclologic.  Paraic suggested some things after Ironman Texas and when I implemented them in training, and racing, they have made all the difference in the world!  He continues to amaze me with his knowledge and I am grateful to have them on my team.

And last but not least, thank you thank you THANK YOU to the BEST training partner ever!!  MP swam with me nearly every single workout since January.  She woke up extra early when I needed to swim at 4 am (and never complained once!).  She pushed me through every interval workout.  Many times I told her the splits and let her set the pace.  I knew if I could just keep up, I would hit the target.  She watches me and makes subtle suggestions- improving everything from my flip turn to my back stroke, and everything in between.  She is a brilliant swimmer and helped me improve my swim beyond what I could do alone.  You are the BEST!!!      
  

  

Making Lemonade

If you'd asked me a year ago where I thought I'd be right now, it would not be where I am.  In the last year I've learned some things about myself, about life, and about what's important to me.  One year ago, I was 4 weeks from the best race of my life.  Only I didn't know it, and I didn't truly appreciate how great that day was.  Prior to lining up that race morning I had mapped out 2013 to include my final 4 races to qualify me for the Ironman Legacy.  Now that I'm 4 weeks away from the 4th and final race of the year ... I don't think I want the Legacy anymore. 

This year has been a roller coaster of trials, tribulations, travels, and testing.  I almost wish for a simpler version, an easier way.  But you don't learn from easy.  You learn by being burned in the fire.  After a delayed start to my training season, things were beginning to improve.  We went to Boston and Texas, both of which were good training days, nothing more. 

Life ain't always what you think it ought to be.

A month later, I found myself in Coeur D'Alene having a phenomenal day and boosting my confidence.  Unfortunately, the training in between was marked by weeks of taper, recovery, and very slow progress in training.  Almost imperceptible at times.  As the season went on my frustration mounted and I felt cheated.  I should have enjoyed that race last November at IMAZ, I thought, because it's going to be my one hit wonder.  I am officially a one trick pony, I concluded.

I survived, and even had a little fun, in Tahoe.  I had already begun to question my motives and desires with the Legacy.  I felt as though my training and fitness level were equal to where I was in February of 2012.  About 9 months before the race of my life.  What if, instead of applying for Legacy, I re-aimed my bow and shot for Texas 2014 instead?  Or Wisconsin?

Heading home from Ironman Tahoe, we dropped our bikes and gear bags off with TriBike Transport as we have done for every out of town race since 2007.  Little did I know it would be the last time I saw my bike (and everything else I own).  The truck containing my bike and gear bag was stolen in LA during an overnight stay.  It all seems very suspicious to me.  I have so little faith in humanity to begin with, but really... LA?  If I was going to choose a place in which to spend the night with $200,000 worth of gear in the back of my truck I certainly wouldn't pick LA.  The trucks are unmarked, so I can't help but think that someone at the hotel (working the overnight shift likely for less than what they believe they're worth) tipped off the thief and now my precious E'ly is lost forever.  I cringe when I imagine the kind of abuse that she's sustained out of my care. 

I never received a call from TriBike Transport.  No one called me to apologize.  No one emailed me.  No one offered to send me the $2000 worth of insurance money that I had purchased with the trip.  No one offered to refund my money since they didn't follow through on the whole "transport" bit.  Not a single contact.  They called my husband.  Told him he should probably pull over since he was driving.  To this day, I've never received a single phone call or email.  In my opinion this is poor customer service on their part.  I know they're making their job easier by only dealing with one of us, but I realize now how very little I matter to them.  If I treated my clients in the same manner I'd be out of a job.   

When life hands you a lemon, you tell that lemon to go fuck itself.

 

Good news for TriBike is now they'll be making a heck of a lot more money because every single person that uses their business will now fully ensure their property.  We always bought an extra $1000 in insurance thinking that if something were "damaged" we could have it fixed/ replaced for 2 grand.  We never imagined in our wildest dreams that we'd lose everything we own related to our triathlon racing.  Wetsuits, shoes (bike and run), custom orthotics, custom race kits.  Everything I bought at the expo.  Goggles, helmets, hydration system, race wheels.  Plus all the little things like ear plugs, water bottles, nutrition products, sunscreen, chamois cream.  It all adds up.  And it doesn't even include the time and hundreds of dollars I spent dialing in my fit. 

I spiraled into depression.  In the weeks that followed Tahoe, I rode my old road bike which had been stripped down and loaned out multiple times.  It no longer fit me and with each ride, my discomfort and sadness increased.  My husband was negotiating with insurance companies to try to get our gear replaced.  I am so thankful that he took the initiative because I was pretty much useless.  I wanted my old bike back (I still do).  I didn't want a newer, better, different bike.  My bike was part of my identity.  I was recognized because of my bike. 

Never love something that can't love you back.

When my new bike arrived (now named Sly), Two Wheel Jones spent hours of overtime getting her built up in time for my bike fit with fit-guru, Cyclologic.  Though I'm sure the mechanic enjoyed the case of beer and the Starbucks I brought him, he'll never understand how much I appreciate the extra effort he put forth working on Sly.  I picked her up and drove straight to my bike fit where I touched her intimately for the first time. 

She is beautiful.  And sleek and fast.  My heart is guarded.  I feel like I've just been through this terrible break up and I won't allow myself to fully embrace her yet.  As one friend reminded me, never love something that can't love you back.  I had allowed myself to love E'ly, and when she was stolen from me I felt as though I had lost a friend.  It's my own fault, really.  She was an inanimate object.  She couldn't love me back.  It was the joy and freedom that she gave me out on the road that I really treasured and will miss the most.   

With my new bike in hand, I've been training a little more comfortably in the last couple of weeks.  I've also noticed that I feel better, stronger, faster than I was a few weeks ago.  This might be a coincidence, I realize, since we are also training on flatter ground now that my hilly races are over.  But 2 months ago I couldn't keep up with my husband for a mile on the beeline and now we're alternating lead in a paceline to keep the pace and intensity up.

I almost want to get my hopes up.  I almost want to believe. 

After much soul-searching I have made several decisions.  Number one, I will give my all in November.  I may not PR and I might not come anywhere close to my race last year.  But it will be my best effort where I am now, and will likely be my second fastest race ever.  That said, you never know where the stars will align on race day and I don't easily give up. 

Secondly, I am not going to apply for Legacy.  This year.  With how close I came to qualifying for Kona last year, I feel that by applying for Legacy I would be cheating myself out of the opportunity to qualify for real.  To have that experience of wondering and waiting for results.  To stand up and claim my ticket to the Big Island.  To cry, and laugh, and cheer, and celebrate all the blood, sweat, and tears that it takes to get there.

Thirdly, I have hired a coach starting January 1.  One thing I learned this year is that I can't do it all, and I can't do it all alone.  I have been pushed to my limit, and pulled in too many different directions with work and life.  I have skipped more workouts this year due to lack of sleep than in the last 8 years combined.  And my workouts have become stale.  When I actually do have time for something, I end up doing the same loop on my bike or steady state run.  There's no thought involved.  No pushing myself.  With a coach, I hope to take the guess work out of my training and be more focused.  I want to be held accountable so that I do get enough sleep, and fuel myself appropriately for training.  I want to be able to maximize my training time to get the most out of myself, and be able to race to my full potential.  I want to give myself the opportunity to achieve my goals at either Texas or Wisconsin.  And if I still don't get there, that's OK.  I will accept that I've done everything I could- and throw my name in the lottery for the following year.

If you want something you've never had, then you've got to do something you've never done.

I am really excited about the opportunity to be part of Team HPB.  I think she will be a good match for me.  She understands my background and my abilities.  She will know how to push me and get the best out of me.  I've never had a coach before, and I always said that as long as I'm seeing improvement I'll continue to do what I'm doing.  This year is the first time I haven't seen improvement, and I'm ready to take that step.  I look forward to the challenges and opportunities of 2014.

For the remaining 4 weeks, I am going to immerse myself in positive self-talk, and motivational CDs, books and music.  I will regain my mental edge which has been my best asset in training and racing.  I will continue to hone my efforts on the bike and I will be ready for race day when it arrives.  Mentally, physically, emotionally. 

Because as my favorite song writer says...

If you only had one shot, one opportunity, to seize everything you ever wanted, in one moment.... would you capture it?  Or just let it slip?   

The Goal

6 months ago, I came home from work and my husband presented me with a handout.  On the top of the list was this:

Swim 1:04
Bike 5:35
Run 4:00
Total:  10:46

He told me that he had studied the times of the top 8 women in the 35-39 age group for the last 5 years, but specifically since Ironman Arizona moved to November (4 years).  He gave me the list with the breakdown of all the swims, bikes, and runs of these amazing women.  And then he said this:  I think you can do this.   

What he showed me, and what I have studied week after week for the last 6 months tells me that to land on the podium at Ironman Arizona in the women's 35-39 age group, I need to finish 10:45 or better.  Consistently, no matter what the weather conditions are, the 5th woman comes in somewhere right around 10:45.  That's 10 hours, 45 minutes.  I have carried those papers, with those splits, in my training log for 6 months.  And every week when I lay out my plan for the next week, I review them.  I study them and decide if I have done the work that needs to be done, day in and day out, to achieve my goal.  And then I go out and do more work. 

The goal?  To podium (top 5 finish) at Ironman Arizona 2012. 

There it is.  My goal.  That has been my goal since discovering that I can push myself on the bike and still run fast.  Going into Oceanside 70.3 last March, I made the decision that I was going to podium.  I had finished top 10 the year prior and I knew I could do it.  I went into the race with that goal and I did not back down until I crossed the line with a PR and a 4th place finish.  Mission accomplished. 

I decided that if I could podium at Oceanside, a difficult course that doesn't necessarily play to my strengths, then I could also go after it at IMAZ.  And now, here we are, with just over 12 hours to race time, and I am going into the race tomorrow believing that I belong on the podium.  It's my spot to lose.  I will work from start to finish to hold onto my dream and if someone wants it, they are going to have to rip it out of my bleeding, dying hands because I will not relinquish it without a fight.  So be prepared. 

5 girls are going to podium in my age group.  I might as well be one of them. 

This is the mantra that I've used to push myself in training.  When I start to fatigue during a difficult tempo section of a run.  Or at mile 15 in my long run when I think, 11 more miles?  Or in the heat of summer, when I'm at mile 80 of the bike and my legs are screaming.  This is what fuels my fire.  On race day, there will be 5 girls in my age group on the podium.  I might as well be one of them.  I have worked harder and smarter, and stronger, and better than everyone else, and I am going to be one of them.  Tomorrow when it starts to hurt and I am tired and just want to walk, I will remind myself that 5 girls are going to be on the podium in my age group.  And I might as well be one of them. 

Swim 1:08
Bike 5:25
Run 3:26
Total:  10:07

The few weeks ago, I was in our bedroom making the bed or folding laundry, some mindless task.  I gazed around our room, the walls of which are covered in Ironman posters and finisher's certificates.  My eyes landed on a finisher certificate from Ironman Arizona 2008.  I looked at the times printed.  Swim 1:08.  Bike 5:25.  Run 3:26.  Studying the numbers, I was thinking to myself, I can do that.  And then I had to do a double take because I realized that it wasn't my certificate.  It was my husband's.  Those were the times from his 3rd Ironman race.  I looked again, added 30 minutes to the run time and I thought, I CAN do that.  10:37.  I can totally do that. 

So there you have it.  Above you have my husband's prediction for my race.  And now you have mine:

Swim 1:05
Bike 5:25
Run 3:56
Total:  10:36 

Tomorrow is a long day.  There are so many things that can happen, most of which I have no control over.  I can't control the weather or the wind on the Beeline.  I can't control the road conditions and whether or not I get a flat or other mechanical.  I can't control other competitors.  They might beat the shit out of me in the swim, or make me crazy on the bike with tactics.  But I can control how I handle myself and how I react.  I will strive to remain positive throughout the day, because negative energy will not land me on the podium.  Only focus and hard work will. 

If you see me out there tomorrow, my key word is:  Focus.  Tell me to focus.  Tell me "quick feet".  Tell me I need to take "top 5".  Tell me I can rest when I'm finished, but the fastest way to the finish line is to "run faster!"  Tell me I look great, even if you're thinking it's a lie.  Tell me I have great form and you like my smile.  Tell me you're proud of me and that I'm kicking ass.  Tell me you believe in me.  Tell me I can do it.

If you're at home watching on www.ironman.com, I'm bib #757.  Send me your positive energy if I cross your mind.  Talk to me in your heart and mind.  As you impatiently wait for the splits to update, scream at the computer for me to "GO!!" 

I have slept like a baby the last 2 nights.  I'm calm and focused.  I'm ready.  Above all else, I need to get myself across the finish line to count #8 toward my Legacy.  But I will leave everything out on the course tomorrow and if it is a perfect day, and the winds aren't too terrible, and I nail my nutrition, and I don't get a mechanical, and God smiles on me.... Look for me on Monday morning. 

I'll be the one on the podium.

The Map for Success

Thanks for all the well wishes after my last post (Head Case).  After 5 days of feeling pretty miserable, I don't sound normal yet but I feel pretty good.  I even had an awesome tempo run this morning, the best one in about 3 weeks!  There is definitely something to be said for rest. 

Approaching the final 2 weeks (12 days!) of taper, I am excited and ready for race day.  I promised to share my specific race goals with you the night before the race, but today I'd like to share my reasons why I can achieve these goals.  Goals for a race are not something that I pull out of thin air.  Or my backside, for that matter. 

A goal without a plan is a wish.

1.  My training plan says so. 
Being the type A, over-achiever that I am, I have a training plan.  And I follow it.  And I keep a log of what I did, how I felt, what nutrition I used for the training session, what shoes I wore, etc.  I can look back over time and see where I've come.  My training plan maps out the season (with room for adaptation or adjustment as needed) and places me on the start line fully ready to race.  For Ironman, this is a 24-week progressive schedule of swim, bike, run, strength training, and recovery.  I can look back and see the work I've done.  I have confidence in my race because my training log shows me that I have completed the necessary training to achieve the goals I have set out for myself. 

When I look back in my plan for IMAZ I see that I have biked significantly more miles than I have in the build up to any of my previous Ironman events.  I also see that I have ridden significantly more long rides (14 rides over 70 miles, with 7 rides over 100 miles) than I ever have.  In my previous Ironman events, I never had more than 3 x 100 milers, and generally only 1 or 2!  And my running may not be the fastest it's ever been, but it is the most consistent.  My long runs are finished with my legs feeling strong and not overly fatigued.  I have stuck with speed work and focused on maintaining a strong pace in transition runs. 

The last time I trained through the summer (2009) I swore I'd never do it again.  This year, biking 100+ followed by a transition run has become so routine that I don't even notice that it's over 110 degrees outside.  I'm just doing what I have to do to be successful. 

And I can look back in my log and know that I've tested myself.  I haven't just sat back and cruised around town for 7 hours.  I've pushed the pace in my long rides, tackling intervals at half iron and Olympic race pace.  I've done time trials and hills.  Lots of hills.  I've pushed myself right to the edge of bonking and learned what it takes to keep myself from plunging over the cliff of dehydration.  On race day, I will know exactly how hard and how far and for how long I can push myself.  Because I have been there before. 

2.  I believe that I can.
One of my favorite motivational speakers, Bob Moad of Edge Learning Institute, says this:  "Anything vividly imagined and felt with emotion will be stored as reality in the creative subconscious."  And this, "We are going to consistently perform in alignment with what we believe to be true about ourself."  And (last one!) this: 

"You will see it, when you believe it."

This is not about blind faith.  This is not about "believing" you can do something for which you have not prepared.  (That sounds awfully close to the definition of insanity if you ask me...)  This is about being physically prepared, and then augmenting your training with mental preparation.  Visualization.  Seeing yourself going through the motions of race day, knowing what can go wrong and how you will address it, feeling the emotions and physical changes that your body will go through over 140.6 miles, and watching yourself cross the finish line, victorious. 

I used to have a visualization script that I'd read through the night before my race and I'd get excited and hoot and holler a little bit, raring to go.  Now, visualization is part of my every day training.  If I'm executing a particularly difficult training ride or run, I will think about race day and imagine myself at mile 80 of the bike or 16 of the run.  I will imagine working through fatigue, windy conditions, heat, sour stomach.  Whatever I am dealing with in training, I place myself in that situation on race day.  And I learn to deal. 

I also see my success.  When I am driving home from work at night, I'll turn off the radio and walk myself through race day in my head.  I see myself hitting my target goals for each component of the race.  I want my actions to be so rehearsed that on race day, I don't even think about what happens next.  I just execute.  I have phrases or mantras that I use in training to help me stay focused or realign myself with the goal if I get off track.  They have become a part of my thought pattern to the point that on race day, I only have to repeat my phrases to myself and think of nothing else. 

Achievement is largely the product of steadily raising one's level of aspiration and expectation

. 
3.  I have set myself up for success. 
This sort of plays along with my first point, having a training plan.  But it really takes it a step beyond.  Having a long term vision and plan.  Last year I was contemplating my approach to 2012/ 2013 and was considering being done with Ironman and focusing more on trail running and ultras, with the ultimate goal being a 100 miler.  (Yes, on foot.  I know, I know.  Where does the insanity end?)  Though I have worked really hard to become the athlete that I am, I was not born with natural athletic ability.  I knew that I could not divide my attention between Ironman and ultrarunning and be successful in both.  I would always be sacrificing my performance in one area in order to train in another.  Ultimately, I knew if I gave up Ironman before I had seen what I could really do with the sport, I'd always look back and wonder.  So I made the decision to focus fully on Ironman, in pursuit of the World Championships via the Legacy Program.  In the process I wanted to work my butt off and see how fast I could really be. 

Having made that decision last spring, I read a book called In Pursuit of Excellence by Terry Orlick.  In his book, Terry asks you to choose a goal and work through a self assessment, identifying where you are, where you want to be, how you're going to get there, and how you're going to get back on track if you get distracted.  I worked through the assessment in May with the focus on becoming a stronger cyclist.  The target goal, obviously is IMAZ, though I was tested several times late summer at half-iron distance events.  Having not looked through my journal in several months, I was pleasantly surprised to open it in September and realize that I had achieved every step of the process that I outlined for myself in May.  I am on track to do exactly what I want to do in 12 days from now.  This knowledge further fuels my desire to do my best on race day and achieve the goal that I am trained to reach.       

"Bulletproof is a state of mind backed up by a training regimen that has pushed you beyond your perceived limits and has targeted the event you're attempting to run.  Your goal after passing through the training gauntlet is to emerge bulletproof."  Gary Dudley, Ultrarunning Magazine.

As the hours wind down and the clock ticks toward race day, I begin to reflect on the season and the people who have supported me along the way.  I am the one who did the work, but it wouldn't be possible without a few people to kick you in the pants during the journey.  And there are several people I'd like to thank... (for the sake of privacy, I've always used initials for individuals and never full names- but you know who you are...)

After my DNF at St. George one friend reached out to me and offered me a lifeline.  A very successful triathlete, BD invited me to come talk to him about my race and what went on, and he offered me some insights into overcoming my obstacles.  He also shared a very important sentiment which has become my mantra throughout my training.  He said that his goal for St. George was to win his age group (he did), and he reminded himself as he was battling horrific conditions in the swim and on the bike at St. George that "someone is going to win my age group today, it might as well be me." 

Those words resonated with me and I found that they were words that I could believe in and rely on to keep pushing myself.  I changed the sentiment to reflect my own goal for IMAZ and I have repeated those words over and over and over to myself when my body starts screaming "NO!".  My mind has learned to say, YES!, and continue to push.  Through the wind.  Through the heat.  Through the fatigue.  I will be forever grateful for his taking the time to chat with me when I was feeling really down about myself, and for giving me the most important tool that I carry into next week's race.  (Next week, when I share my specific goals, you'll get to see how I changed his vision and what words got me through the last 24 weeks.  Until then, it remains my little secret.)

"Success means having the courage, the determination, and the will to become the person you believe you were meant to be."  George Sheehan

My physical therapist (Nate Snell at Endurance Rehab) has supported me not just this season, but for the last 3 years.  We have a weekly standing appointment at which he works on me and gives me exercises to improve balance, strength and flexibility.  I can rely on him to change things up just when I start to feel really strong and fit.  He keeps me humble, in a good way.  He cares about his patients and always has an encouraging word to say.  Without Endurance Rehab, my athletic career would have ended long ago. 

My team, TriScottsdale.  TriScottsdale is a low key group of like-minded folks who are as passionate about the pursuit of their goals as I am.  These high caliber athletes have become friends and training partners.  They challenge me on the race course, high five me at the finish, and cheer me on in training.  I look forward to seeing them on race day, on the course and on the sidelines.  I will push myself to my best, knowing I am representing this great group of people.           

"Running is not a private activity.  People are watching.  Show someone what it's like to want something."  Marc Parent

And lastly, my husband.  I have never met anyone who works as hard as he does.  He is the model of persistence, determination, consistency, perseverance and passion.  He isn't the fastest guy on the course, but he will outwork everyone and in the process achieve his goals.  I am so proud to walk through life with him.  He doesn't believe in doubt, or fear, or uncertainty.  Only in hard work, preparation and taking a chance.  On race day, I will be happy to compete beside him as I have proven I'm a bumbling mess of a spectator when he's racing.  I look forward to watching him give his best on race day, just as he has inspired me to do.  Baby, I'll see you at the finish line.       

"Somewhere behind the athlete you've become and the hours of practice and the coaches who have pushed you is a little girl who fell in love the the game and never looked back.   Play for her."  Mia Hamm

Dear Diary,

I tried to quit you.  But I can't seem to get you out of my head.  You dominate my thoughts in my waking hours and I dream of a perfect relationship at night, though I doubt we'll ever have that.  You're too tough.  Too strong.  Too 'out there'.  But I'm going to keep working.  Keep trying.  Until one of us cries "uncle!" 

You plant little seeds in my mind, to try to get me to give in.  Give up.  You dangle little carrots.  "Take up ultra-running!"  "Commit to the marathon."  Using my love of running, you taunt me with distractions.  Are you scared?  Am I getting too close?  I'm stronger.  Better.  Faster.  And now you're the one who's getting nervous.  I might actually take you down.  Is that it? 

Well, just so you know, I have a plan.  I am preparing for my assault on you and you're not going to know what hit you.  You can throw what you want at me.  Rain.  Wind.  Hail.  Heat.  Dust.  I won't give in.  I won't back down.  I will not relent. 

It's you and me, Ironman.  I'm no longer going to be satisfied to just finish you.  This will be an all out war.  A battle to be the best that I can be.  You've got 5 chances to take me out.  If I prevail... WHEN I beat you... then I will be racing through the lava fields on the Big Island.  It will be my Legacy.   

We have a long history, you and me.  We used to be friends.  But you took advantage of my affection for you, so now we're through.  I'm done being nice.  Now, when I prepare, it's going to be as if you are the last battle on Earth.  When we meet again, you will submit.  You will lie down at my feet.  You will beg for mercy.  I am coming for you, Ironman.  And I am sharpening my skills on the way. 

When my Legacy is complete, then we will part ways.  Maybe as friends.  But until that day, you can count on the fact that I am hunting you.  Every day when I wake up, you will be on my mind as I train.  I will prepare as I never have before.  Bring your best, and on race day we'll see who the victor is. 


My Legacy:
#1:  Ironman Arizona 2007-  12:51:29
#2:  Ironman Arizona 2008-  12:48:35
#3:  Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2008-  12:41:43
#4:  Ironman Wisconsin 2009-  12:39:26
#5:  Ironman Arizona 2009- 11:58:51
#6:  Ironman Canada 2010-  12:26:59
#7:  Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2011-  12:33:22
#8:  Ironman Arizona 2012
#9-12 Ironman ??? 2013 and ?? 2014
#13:  Ironman Hawaii, via Legacy Program