tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148943662548184392024-02-27T09:11:21.721-08:00 Finding Kona The every day journey toward making a dream come true.FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.comBlogger478125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-65862905325232232212020-08-30T13:03:00.000-07:002020-08-30T13:03:06.923-07:00Marathon Swim Project<p> My favorite movie of all time is You've Got Mail. I saw it at least 5 times in the theater. Obviously if I had spent more time studying and less time at the movies I probably would have graduated with higher marks. And the movie doesn't have anything to do with anything, other than when I sat down to write I was reminded of Kathleen Kelly's monologue... because it's exactly what I'm going to do... right now....</p><p><i><b></b></i></p><blockquote><i><b>I like to start my notes to you as if we're already in the middle of a conversation. I pretend that we're oldest and dearest friends as opposed to what we actually are...</b></i></blockquote><p></p><p>It's been a minute. </p><p>Not quite as long as I thought... but long enough. I've been writing all along. But in an actual journal. With paper and a pen. And much more private thoughts and musings. I love to write. Even when it's in digital format, it's still just me putting thoughts on paper. A diary more or less. </p><p>Last time we spoke I was in the middle of my trail running season last fall. I was trying to reconcile my desire to WANT to be a trail runner with the fact that I wasn't enjoying any of it. I had a miserable 50k. I dropped out of my 100k. And as a last ditch effort I signed up for (and finished) a 50 miler-- just not in a fast enough time to enter the 100 miler that I desperately didn't want to do anymore anyway but I said I wanted to so I had to try, right? If ever there was a case for self-sabotage. </p><p>I think I just lost steam after SCAR and TransRockies Run (TRR). I think I just wasn't excited about the goal. I realize now I never even wrote about TRR. I think I came off of that week and was just in a different place in my life. Happy. For the first time in a long time I could look at where I was at and what I was doing and know that it was exactly the life that I wanted. I was content. And contentment breeds complacency. </p><p>Or does it?</p><p>What if contentment is not a bad thing? What if the thing I had been looking for finally landed in my lap? Should I not run with it? Every damn day for 2 years: <i>Inhale joy and <b>contentment</b></i>. There it is. Contentment. I had been seeking it out. Expanding it with my focus. Of course it's going to show up in my life!</p><p>So I took a step back, backed off the trail running, quit my job, moved to the beach.</p><p>Yeah. I did that. I swear in a very calculated manner, and not in the midst of a mid-life crisis which I know is exactly what you're thinking. Trust me, I have had that thought too, but I just needed a change. Arizona was never meant to be my final resting place and it was time to go. </p><p>So what now? </p><p>Well... ironically, I went back to the trails- only this time as a thru-hiker, not a runner. I spent the first week of July hiking the 171.4 mile Tahoe Rim Trail. I feel this deserves an entire post dedicated to it, so I'll just leave you with the <a href="https://www.yogitriathlete.com/podcast-220-mary-knott-on-thru-hiking-the-tahoe-rim-trail/" target="_blank">link to a podcast</a> I did with YogiTriathlete until I have time to put those thoughts onto paper. Er, or screen, rather. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHFrCKwWuLCsDZiQD4k1kujEWn90aYK13uNTuCf2VTy55F_ndYyfdkxIiGP-ELXUqQAb1dziN0sTl760GtGbsiBzWpUw-aCIy78PWrCVpVv8WFQUuvBBeVSKFxsUDEa762ki79XrFXwEQ/w512-h384/20200705_131720.jpg" width="512" /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>And being in the mountains surrounding the gorgeous blue waters of Lake Tahoe reignited my desire to do some more marathon swimming. I had reached out to the Pacific Open Water Swim Company in January to express my interest in swimming across Lake Tahoe (they coordinate all official swims of the lake). Dates for 2020 didn't work out because the only week they had left was the same week I was in Washington Island for the bff's big bike race. I am focusing my energy on securing a date for 2021 and in my research I came across something that resonated. </p><p>The California Triple Crown of Marathon Swimming.</p><p>1. Lake Tahoe 21.3 miles</p><p>2. Santa Barbara Channel, Anacapa to Mainland, 12.4 miles</p><p>3. Catalina Channel, 20 miles</p><p>The minute I read about this challenge I knew I wanted in. I felt excited about a training goal for the first time in a long time. It made me want to jump into cold water and go for a swim. All of these swims follow the basic guidelines for channel swimming. No wetsuit. No touching the support boat. No drafting. No artificial aids of any kind (cheater panties, pull buoys, etc). It's just me and the water from start to finish. </p><p>One cool thing about marathon swimming is that, similar to ultra running, I can have a support swimmer. Generally after the first 3 hours or so, I can have a friend hop in and swim next to me for an hour at a time. They are required to take breaks between support legs. I remember how cool it was to swim side-by-side with Melody for about 9 miles out of our 17 mile day at SCAR last year. I love idea of having a support swimmer-- someone who can swim close enough to my pace to stay warm, loves swimming, and doesn't mind spending 12 hours on a boat. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy9jyopbe5FApti0kMyzvV46DZ59YjzWN0E4PjCr7oI1w73gR96bPTwZUNBlKKtwPfYFPHZ7n9r_ZWmziKWn5t6gzAgWan5ydAuniC0BM2IpYe_d4q3Ofa0_hXJka-fITSbBFQ1thvk7U/w400-h300/20190426_%25281%2529+%25281%2529.jpg" title="Melody and I swimming day 3 SCAR." width="400" /></div><br /><p>There are a few logistics involved in arranging a marathon swim. Hiring a boat. Hiring a kayaker (for Santa Barbara and Catalina). Applying for approval from the various swim associations. Medical clearance. Paying the fees to the boat captain, and the ratification fees to document the swims. Not to mention training to swim in cold water at night. With my experience at SCAR I feel confident that I can train to handle the distance. And living on the ocean gives me the opportunity to train in open water. </p><p>So that's what's happening here. I'm hoping to document my training and planning as things develop. I am hoping to do at least 2 swims next year-- but I'm dependent on the availability of a boat captain that can successfully guide a channel swim. Either way, there will be a lot of open water swimming going on! </p><p> </p>FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-82720009583660379192019-09-22T20:00:00.004-07:002019-09-22T20:17:12.425-07:00From Calling it Quits to Kissing the Rat: Finding Aloha in Battle<i>Volunteer: "Kiss the rat."</i><br />
Me: "huh?"<br />
<i>Volunteer: "You need to kiss the rat."</i><br />
I turn back toward the finish line I just crossed to see a Halloween style plastic rat dangling from a rope. The race mascot, apparently? I pull it toward me and kiss it square on the mouth.<br />
Done. I am finished. I want to sit down and never get back up.<br />
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My day started 7 hours and 34 minutes earlier. Or at least the run did. My day actually started about 3 hours before that when the alarm woke me from my slumber, cozy in my bed-n-breakfast just off of the village in Carlsbad, CA.<br />
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I signed up for this race knowing nothing about it. And, well, I probably should have done a bit of research. Not that I wouldn't have signed up anyway. (I would have.) But at least I would have know what I was getting into. Though maybe that's the point. Maybe it was meant to be unknown.<br />
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The first mile was asphalt. A nice gentle grade, very runnable. A little bit downhill even. And then we turned onto the trail and almost immediately I was in trail-runner hell. I felt as though someone had taken gathered up every rock in the state of California... and littered them onto the course. Huge boulders to clamber over, and leap off of. Grapefruit sized ankle biters with sharp edges-- whole mountains full of these. For an endless 31.96 miles (according to my garmin) this went on. And I didn't enjoy a single second of it.<br />
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That's not to say there weren't amazing views (there were!). But this was more of a study in mind games than anything else. Today I got to study my ego (aka: small self). It went on and on and on... filling my head with unworthiness and various other lies.<br />
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<i>What makes you think you should run trails? You kinda suck at this.</i><br />
<i>Maybe you should go back to triathlon. You were halfway decent there.</i><br />
<i>You shouldn't do the 100k because you suck at trail running.</i><br />
<i>You shouldn't throw your name into the lottery for the 100 miler of choice because there's no way you'll ever finish. </i><br />
<i>Hey, you weren't even a terrible swimmer. Maybe you should bag Tahoe, and go for another marathon swim next year. </i><br />
<i>Why are you even in sport?? Quit while you're ahead. </i><br />
<i>Do you really want to make a fool of yourself??</i><br />
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For 21.5 miles, this went on. And because I have trained my mind, I didn't indulge in the thoughts. I didn't follow the negativity and spiral into a shitty attitude. I just noticed them. And the other side of my ego even tried to defend me a few times. To no avail. But man, when you are the observer of negative thought after negative thought after negative thought for HOURS on end... it's fucking exhausting. It was like being in battle. I had every intention of dropping out at mile 23 (the next aid station). I don't believe in excuses, so I didn't have any. I just didn't want to be out there any more. I wasn't having any fun, and I was done.<br />
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And then the universe stepped in. Jess, whom I had signed up for this race (and my next race!) with, approached from behind me and hollered my name. I stepped off the trail and turned around to high five her as she went by. The moment our hands connected, there was an instantaneous transfer of energy. It was as if my higher self (aka: Self) recognized her vibration, and (finally) stepped in and took over. My body didn't magically feel great, but my ego (self) vanished and I was free. I hopped in behind her and matched her pace for the next several miles into the aid station. We were in and out quickly and back on the trail I kept up as long as I could.<br />
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After she dropped me, and I was alone again, I remained free from the commentary in my head. I still didn't love the trails. I still wasn't having fun. But I wasn't engaged in a mental battle along with the physical anymore. And that freedom was priceless.<br />
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I finished the 50k. It wasn't fast. It wasn't pretty. It hurt like hell. But I won. For 21.5 miles my mind tried to get the better of me. And for 10 miles, I retaliated. So here's the truth:<br />
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1. I don't have to LOVE every single thing. About trail running. About life. Period. Just because I meditate does NOT make life perfect. Far from it. I have stepped up to the plate, and the universe will continue to challenge me. What's the phrase? Forged in the fire? Yeah. That's me. Setting this life ablaze.<br />
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2. Just because I didn't enjoy this trail system, doesn't mean I don't love trail running. It's ok if I want to be in the forest on a pine-needle covered single track. That's ok. It doesn't make me less of a person. I just know what I like.<br />
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3. Just because I sucked at this race, does not mean I can't finish the 100k or the 100 miler. I mean, in reality, isn't this why I picked Tahoe in the first place? Because it speaks to me? Because when the going gets tough (which it WILL), the fact that I WANT to be there is one less thing I have to think about? One less obstacle? I've had more than one person suggest that perhaps I should choose an "easier" 100 miler for my first. You wanna know why I haven't?? Because I know that I need something else to get me to the finish line. I need that view that brings tears to my eyes. I need to be able to close my eyes every night between now and July and see myself on the top of Snow Valley Peak. I need to be on the course that tugs at my soul. And from the moment I stepped foot on that course years ago... I *knew* it would be the one.<br />
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4. I've been running trails for 4 months. Yes-- I was an ultrarunner before I was a super-serious Ironman racer. But I haven't run trails consistently, or for any length of time in many years. Jeez, give yourself a fucking break. Maybe run a little longer than 4 months and before you decide you suck at it.<br />
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5. Yes. To answer the question, I do want to make a fool of myself. I want to get outside my comfort zone. I want to get messy. I want to be broken down and have to drag myself out of the mire. Because isn't this where growth occurs? Isn't this where we find out who we really are? Isn't that why we're here, after all?<br />
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<br />FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-38360066636588293562019-09-01T20:15:00.001-07:002019-09-01T20:15:45.544-07:00Truth<b><u>Forward:</u></b><br />
I stopped writing a while ago-- like probably a 18 months ago. And though I did do updates from Hawaii during Ultraman training, I withdrew from sharing long before that because I was afraid to be honest. I didn't know how to say what I really felt, publicly, and without being able to speak the truth, I was choking on the lies. I've continued to write - in my journal, where no one will ever see it, and my handwriting is so terrible that even I probably wouldn't be able to interpret it. But I keep writing because it's what I do. It's who I am. <br />
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So the story you're about to read is old news. Like, really old. But before I could just jump back on and start writing I needed to address the elephant in the room. Because only those closest to me have heard it straight from my mouth. A few others were observant enough to see the change on social media and put two and two together. Several have asked me directly (thank you!). Many, many more (I've realized) were unaware. And I think that speaks to the state of our society more than anything, really. I mean, how was it not obvious? <br />
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I spent a lot of time last year working with my meditation teacher on speaking my truth. A lot of what we did complemented the work I did in therapy. Standing up for myself. Being honest, but holding space with love and compassion. Allowing for someone else to respond in their own way, and not shoulder the responsibility for their reaction. Knowing that my soul's contract with another will be fulfilled in the exact right way, at the exact right time... and sometimes that's painful, and hard, and you just have to breathe through it. Every day I focus on what I want in life. And I've watched that expand over the last 18 months-- I have literally created the <i>exact</i> life that I want to live. Sometimes I feel giddy when I think about it. I feel ridiculously content. Anyway... here are some thoughts that I wrote quite some time ago. It's out there now, and I can get back to writing. <br />
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TRUTH<br />
_________________________________________________________________________________<br />
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A friend, who is a fellow writer and avid reader, reminded me recently about the catharsis of putting pen to paper. We were discussing the memoir Educated, by Tara Westover, as I had just finished reading it. There were so many feelings stirred in the reading of this story (this book is <i>insane</i>! Please, if you haven't already-- go read it!), and when I shared my fear that I wasn't yet ready to put my truth out into the universe, she reiterated that sharing the nitty gritty could help shape or be a stream within a larger story.<br />
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Realizing that I may not hit "publish" on this for some time, you may be reading this much later than the events that are taking place. If you ever read it at all. The thing about this blog, is that sometimes I hide behind it. As if it's a diary and not a public document for others to read and judge and have opinions about. It's only one side of the story. Mine. And my truth probably looks different from yours, and his, and theirs. I have come to appreciate over the last year that there is more than one side to every story. And even though I cling to mine as truth, it's also skewed by my perception of what happened. So is that really true? Or is it just my interpretation of events? And does it matter?<br />
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I am getting divorced. Again.<br />
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There. I said it. Out loud. I don't know why that's so hard.<br />
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Maybe because I feel like a failure? That of my entire family, I am the black sheep? My parents will be married 50 years next summer. And my sisters are living the American dream with husbands, and good jobs, and 2.5 kids averaged between the 2 of them. Are they happy? I think so. I hope so. Do they know what happiness is? Do I?<br />
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And I am me. Unsatisfied with the staleness that became my existence. And full of hope and a belief that at age 41, I can have so much more. That life is too short. A dreamer. Impulsive, but calculated. Careful, yet seeming reckless. Willing to risk it all for the possibility.<br />
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If you know me, there's a good chance that you know my husband. And I hope that if you know and love us both, that you will continue to do so. There's love there. But it isn't enough. Sometimes when you love something you have to let it go. And that's exactly what I asked him to do. Let me go.<br />
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He will tell a very different tale. My story looks like this:<br />
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I needed support that he couldn't give me. So I built a wall instead. And in place of his support, I created a network of girlfriends that I knew I could count on, who had my back, and who I could call any time day or night.<br />
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And then one day, years later, I realized that I wanted a partner who knew me as intimately as my friends knew me. On an emotional level. Only despite spending hours upon hours in therapy, we just couldn't get there. Because my walls were too high, or my faith too little, or my trigger points too raw. He tried, but I just couldn't connect. There was too much hurt. Or too much blame. Or too much resentment. And eventually I didn't want to keep trying any more. I was tired.<br />
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So that's how I got here.<br />
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And I feel guilty. Because I am happier than I've been in years. I feel lighter. And content. And though there are moments in the quiet spaces of my thoughts that I crave the company of another human being, I am willing to be that company for myself right now. I am exploring new things. Finding out what interests me, and what makes me feel, and what makes me laugh.<br />
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I found a beautiful studio apartment that I love. It's quiet, and has a dozen windows that pour natural light into my space during all waking hours. I spent all spring with every window and the patio door open 24/7, breathing fresh air and soaking in the healing that my space is providing. I am spending time in the kitchen allowing my creativity to flow as it once did. I have no television. I have a bluetooth speaker with iheart radio, and I have books. I have my boys who happily talk to me when I engage them in conversation. I have minimal belongings and in Marie Kondo style, everything has it's place. I have no need for more "stuff". And by removing the "stuff" I can begin to see who I really am.<br />
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I don't pretend to know what my future holds. But I know that it will be exactly what I need. It will be full of beautiful adventures. And in the writing of this, I realize that my friend was right. The tears that carry away hurt, and sadness, and fear, are merely tributaries to the river that is my life. The story will twist and turn, flowing over rocks and boulders. Life, shaped and changed over time.<br />
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<br />FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-12028479565192381932019-04-28T17:57:00.001-07:002019-04-28T17:57:56.493-07:00SCAR: The top 10 things you need to know about long distance swimmingYou know how there's always that one friend who pops out a kid and then is like, <i>Oh wow I never knew this was going to be so hard. (raising said child)</i> As if there are NO books published on parenting, and you have ZERO friends with kids willing to tell you the truth. (Trust me, I don't have kids BECAUSE I know the truth... so it's out there, you just have to find it.)<br />
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Well, right now I kinda feel that way about swimming. I mean, I feel like someone should have warned me. Not that it would have stopped me from signing up for a long distance swim. (The truth certainly doesn't stop anyone from having kids.) But I would have known what was coming. I could have taken some breathing classes and learned how to swaddle before I was thrown into the deep end.<br />
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So I'm going to be that friend. I'm gonna tell you all the things you knew but didn't really know about preparing to swim 17 miles in the middle of a 41 mile swim.<br />
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1. Despite the fact that you have chlorine emanating through your pores, you will reach a point where you physically can't wash your hair. Your arms will be limp noodles by your sides. You will be lucky to open the bottle of body wash and drizzle it down your lower half. I recommend short hair. And hats.<br />
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2. You are going to eat as though you haven't seen food in a month. All. day. long. I can literally eat an entire 4 course meal and be hungry again an hour later. And no, I'm not eating Chinese food. I'm eating EVERYTHING.<br />
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3. You will adapt. AFTER you stress the body. And this will happen in cycles over and over and over again. You will hit faster splits than you've ever seen in your life, and then the next day fail a workout that you should be able to do with your eyes closed. And just like you got used to swimming 10k a week for Ironman training, you will get used to swimming 40k a week.<br />
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4. You're going to chafe. From swimming. <i>*pause to let that sink in*</i> I recommend vaseline. Under the arms. On the inner thighs if you have a pull set longer than 3k. Hopefully you can claim that it's because your lats have doubled in size. If not, maybe you just need a better suit. I recommend Jolyn.<br />
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5. Swimmer's ear is not just for kids! When you spend 2-4 hours a day in the pool, you are going to be water logged! Your ears do not like this. Get some alcohol. Pour it in your ears when you get out of the pool. You're welcome.<br />
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6. Remember those 5 hour long Sunday bike rides? Now you're doing a casual 5 hour Sunday swim set. (Don't forget the sunscreen!)<br />
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7. You remember Amanda Beard's autobiography? In the Water They Can't See You Cry? It's true. They can't. #tintedgoggles I don't know how many swims I finished and told my training partner, I cried through that whole last set. Obviously, everyone's reaction to stress is different. Me? I'm a crier. And not just for sadness. If I'm angry and I'm yelling, that's a good thing. If I'm angry and I start crying, you better run cause someone is gonna die. When I'm exhausted, I bawl. It's fine. I don't need you to do anything differently. Just don't freak out, OK?<br />
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8. Sleep and food fix almost everything. Don't feel guilty about taking what you need. <br />
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9. You will get through the distance... IF you do the work! Do the work. PLEASE. Don't skip swims. Don't skip strength. Don't skip any of it. Just do the work.<br />
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10. Having someone to do the work with you... priceless. My friend Melody and I have been swimming together for a long time. We figured it out a few years ago, but by now it's been maybe 7 or 8 years? We've been talking about SCAR for about 5 years, and because I wasn't going to be racing this year, we decided to go for it. Of the 750,000 or so yards that I swam in training, less than 50,000 were swum solo. For the remainder, I had Melody by my side. This made it so much more fun and enjoyable. I can't imagine having done SCAR without her! (And since it was her idea I probably wouldn't have!). FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-36521058463511523782019-02-12T14:56:00.000-08:002019-02-12T14:56:21.016-08:00UMWC: Finding Aloha in Moving ForwardI've started and stopped and deleted and started again at least a dozen times. But the truth is, there's not much more I feel like sharing about Ultraman Worlds. For my crew, who were with me through the days before and after, and got me though the race in one piece... I feel like our stories are sacred. I don't necessarily want to share them with the whole world. I like being able to say "circle of recovery" and know that there are only 3 people on the planet who can laugh in solidarity. <br />
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Maybe what everyone should know is how amazing my crew was. How when I was having a meltdown at the bike turnaround on day 1 they held my bike steady as I gulped air and tried to hold back tears. How on day 2 they made me smile and laugh during the climb, and reminded me to just "take the next breath" and fed me egg rolls to boost my energy half way through the day. They absorbed whatever I gave them and reflected back to me only the positive affirmations and mantras that I had chosen, allowing me to stay "in the zone." </div>
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And how my mom burst into tears at the end of day 1 when she saw me on the massage table, overcome with the emotion of it all. And how my dad and sister drove 55 miles (each way) to meet us at the finish of day 2, so they could schlep my bike (and back-up bike) back to Kona, leaving more space in the crew van on day 3. <br />
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And how on day 3, they didn't care how slow I was moving, only that I kept moving. And we talked, and they told me stories, and Josie spontaneously used foreign accents to keep me laughing and Chris allowed himself to be objectified by performing (at the request of my girls who knew it would be a pick-me-up) for me as I ran by the crew van, which he was using as a pole. (BTW, he's got moves, in case you were wondering.) </div>
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And how my family got the key code and let themselves into our rental to decorate it before we got back there when it was all said and done. And they ended up staying to the wee hours of the night and we laughed, and played pin the tail on the llama, and had a spontaneous dance party. Only my sister could get me up and dancing after 3 days of Ultraman racing. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWpp8PGXnigzwmVb2zEqPKC0hFvfx2xe0NazMe8hbH8-Pj_OmbGvJrlyw660I9Nz5dnuSuVIkOroTz-OfhtXlzcYZOctpJQ7TX_xqEA3hMHHYurUGNdSwHSLmSCXKlCyNn2202FJCG2Ks/s1600/20181108_134000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWpp8PGXnigzwmVb2zEqPKC0hFvfx2xe0NazMe8hbH8-Pj_OmbGvJrlyw660I9Nz5dnuSuVIkOroTz-OfhtXlzcYZOctpJQ7TX_xqEA3hMHHYurUGNdSwHSLmSCXKlCyNn2202FJCG2Ks/s320/20181108_134000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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These are the moments that I carry with me. I don't remember every single thing that I ate. Or thought that penetrated my mind. Or swirly sensation that graced my body over the 3 days. I do remember how much I felt loved and supported. I remember the beauty of the island, and feeling so grateful to be able to do what I do. I remember laughing and having fun and enjoying the moments. I remember feeling like I had nothing left to prove when it was all said and done... satisfied... finished... ready to move on....<br />
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Hopefully if you wanted more details and info you had a chance to listen to the <a href="https://www.yogitriathlete.com/podcast-136-maryknott-on-ultraman-flow/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;"><b>podcast</b></span></a> with YogiTriathlete or read the <a href="https://www.smashfestqueen.com/blogs/smashfest-diaries/ultraman-world-championship-mary-knott" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Q&A</span></b></a> with my SFQ sisters. 2019 is going to be a chance for me to give back to those who have supported me over the last few years. I have more crew opportunities on my calendar than races. And I couldn't be happier or more excited to give back and pay it forward. </div>
FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-6538863389112626232019-01-16T14:40:00.000-08:002019-01-16T14:51:55.770-08:00Always Anotha Thing: Finding Aloha in the Next Big Thing#findingkona was never about Ironman. The true meaning behind it has more to do with the idea of stepping outside your comfort zone. Of taking risks. Believing in yourself. Believing that you are worthy of huge goals. Big, scary goals. Ones that force you to risk failure in order to achieve them. It's about deciding that a dream is worth 100% focus and dedication, no matter how long it takes. <br />
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At the time when I gave my dream a name, my goal was to qualify and compete at Ironman World Championships, thus Finding Kona was born. Once I qualified everyone asked me if I would change my handle, and my response was NO. No, because there will always be another dream. Another goal. Another challenge. I have a few on my mind right now, but after those... there will be more! I just don't know what they are yet. And that's the beauty of dreams. I don't ever want to stop dreaming. As the #bff said so eloquently after Ultraman, (insert Boston accent here:) <b>There's always anotha thing.</b><br />
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After I qualified for Kona, I added the hashtag #findingaloha to my repertoire. To me, this represented the idea that I was fulfilling this dream with passion and joy. Finding aloha, or love, in everything I do. And just like #findingkona, it's not limited to my race in Hawaii in 2016. It is my goal every day when I get out of bed. To chase my dreams with passion. To be joyful in the pursuit, even when my body is being beaten down in training, and I'm failing workouts. Remembering that I GET to do this brings everything back into the correct perspective.<br />
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I sat down with YogiTriathlete at Indian Wells 70.3 to talk about Ultraman. You can listen to that podcast <b><span style="color: red;"><a href="https://www.yogitriathlete.com/podcast-136-maryknott-on-ultraman-flow/" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></b> But if you missed the podcast extra on Patreon...<br />
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The next big thing is called the <b><a href="http://www.scarswim.com/home.html" target="_blank">SCAR Swim Challenge</a></b> and it looks like this:<br />
Day 1: Saguaro Lake, 9.5 mile (15.2 km) swim<br />
Day 2: Canyon Lake, 9 mile (14.4 km) swim<br />
Day 3: Apache Lake, 17 mile (27.3 km) swim<br />
Day 4: Roosevelt Lake, 6.2 mile (10 km) swim<br />
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In case you got distracted by the individual swim distances, it's a 4 day, 4 lake, 41 mile swim that takes place in April near where I live. My swim training partner and I have had our eye on it for a few years, but with my other goals it was never the right time to take on this challenge. After I was invited to Ultraman Worlds, and qualified to race Ironman Worlds again last fall, we discussed it and decided it was time to throw our hats in the ring. There will never be another time as perfect as Spring 2019 for this adventure.<br />
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The swim is conducted on English Channel rules, meaning no wetsuit and actually "no bathing suit past the crotch" so no Sim shorts (aka: cheater panties), no speed suit, no competition suit. Just me, my swim suit, and a swim cap. And a fuck ton of calories.<br />
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Each swimmer has a kayaker. I've hired my #bff's husband's bff. :) Say that fast 3 times. I met Kevin when H was getting ready for H2H. He was her crew captain extraordinaire, and when I was talking about SCAR and wanting an experienced kayaker H suggested Kevin. He's already been in the lake practicing so I know I'm in good hands. Apparently in the past some of the kayakers couldn't make the distance on day 3 because the wind tends to kick up in the afternoon forcing you to swim/ paddle against a current. Just a little added bonus.<br />
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There are cutoff times each day, but we've been ramping up training pretty quickly and I have no doubt I will be 100% prepared to cover the distance come April. Speaking of training-- I was meant to be a swimmer. There is nothing I look forward to more than double swim days! We've been working on strength-- lots of band work, lots of IM. I've never swum so much butterfly in my life. I hit a wall about a week ago and felt like I couldn't lift my arms out of the water. I *know* that in a couple of weeks my body will adapt and I will feel more normal again, but holy hell, I've never felt my shoulders ache like this in my life.<br />
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2 months ago, the thought of swimming 17 miles terrified me. I honestly wasn't 100% sure I could cover the distance (after already swimming 18 miles on the first 2 days). 1 month ago, we worried about the water temps. Would we freeze trying to swim 41 miles in April without a wetsuit? Today I am confident that we will cover the distance, warmed by the desert sunshine. That we will be part of the black cap ceremony (honoring those swimmers who complete the entire day 3 swim within the allotted time). That we will be #findingaloha every minute of those 41 miles because this is an adventure unlike any we've ever taken on before and we are worthy of this dream.FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-11579172278000650162018-12-07T10:05:00.002-08:002018-12-07T10:05:58.839-08:00Everything Team SFQ wanted to know about UMWC!Just wanted to share an interview that I did with my Team SFQ teammates! Click <a href="https://www.smashfestqueen.com/blogs/smashfest-diaries/ultraman-world-championship-mary-knott?fbclid=IwAR1l1sepa0OHQ0xfsKkh-xDhc42-UqhUNSBPDMW9J3JHi75MlCROm1ykz60" target="_blank">HERE</a> to read the interview on the Smashfest Diaries. Hope you enjoy!<br />
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<br />FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-38276704467232257042018-11-22T18:25:00.000-08:002018-11-22T18:25:23.046-08:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 22It's race week.<br />
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Time is now slipping by so quickly. Lists are being made. Supplies being gathered. Crew getting organized. </div>
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The bike is tuned, cleaned, inspected and ready to roll. </div>
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My head feels a little more aligned with where I want to be. </div>
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Every time I think about tomorrow (which is about every 15 minutes or so) my chest tightens and I feel like I can't breathe. And then I take a deep breath, and let it all go.</div>
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Day 18 was a rest day. I drank coffee. Watched Chris race a swim- run event from the pier while Dan swam the Ironman course. We went to breakfast and had more coffee. I watched Ironman Arizona coverage while relaxing all afternoon. It was the last chill day. No schedule. No errands. No timeline. </div>
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Day 19 we slept in today and got to the pool around 715 am. Knocked out some tempo 50s at a pace I haven't held in probably 12 weeks followed by intervals on the bike, which also were at a power output that I haven't seen since late September. Proof that my body is handling taper and getting ready for race weekend. Afterwards we ate lunch and ran a couple of errands, and then just chilled in front of Monday night football while discussing immunology. </div>
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And then....</div>
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The bff arrived!!!!</div>
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I'm pretty sure all eyes were on us in the baggage claim area as I nearly tackled H as she came out of the secure area. All is well now in my world. We headed back to the house after we collected bags and scrounged for food while enjoying a bottle of chardonnyay (well, mostly she did, I watched).</div>
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Day 20. Crew Captain Chris escorted me on my run this morning. We had a few pickups just to get the legs moving. After the run (and some coffee) H and I went to the pool for a little recovery swim. We met DB at the end of his ride and ordered some smoothies and coffee from Green Flash Coffee while waiting for the back up bike to be inspected at the bike shop next door and then headed home. We had a couple of hours free before we picked up my parents and went to the meet and greet at Kona Brewery. <br />
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During the social, Josie's plane landed and DB was dispatched to pick her up. She joined us for another 2 rounds (theirs, not mine) before we called it a night. On the way home from happy hour(s) we were laughing so hard in the van, I kinda got sad for a moment thinking I was going to miss all the fun that was going to be had in the van that weekend. But that quickly turned to gratitude. My crew was having fun and making memories. This weekend was going to be epic.<br />
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Day 21. This morning we slept in and drove down to the pier for a dip in the ocean. I had a 35 minute swim so the plan was to just swim 1.2 miles. At the turnaround spot we got to swim with dolphins. I took this as a sign that the island was sending me love. <br />
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This afternoon I had a skype session with Jess and we talked mindfulness strategies for the weekend. How to remain in the moment, how to refocus when the mind wanders from gratitude, and how to execute from a place of calm. Afterwards the crew and I headed to registration, got checked in, got our race binder, and I had my interview with Steve King. It was a seamless process and we fully felt the Ohana love all around. <br />
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We went home and Heidi made us an early dinner- kale bowls which were FABULOUS. My tips for prospective ultraman athletes: 1. Have a bike mechanic on crew. 2. Have a professionally trained chef on crew. We ate to our hearts content and then we went over our race plan. Outlined nutrition protocol, discussed gear choices, tasks for each crew member, pre and post race plans. It was a lot of information but everyone needs to be on the same page and have a chance to ask questions. The most important thing is that everyone is flexible and the plan is fluid. Things are bound to come up that are not what we planned, and we have to be able to adapt and keep going. We discussed some of the possible obstacles, but you never know what we will encounter on race day. <br />
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Day 22. Thanksgiving day. I started my day with a 30 min jog with DB under a full moon. The roads were quiet and we just took in the calm. After the run I hopped on my bike for a 45 min easy spin with Chris as my escort. We did a little bit of climbing in the beginning just to test out my new compact crank system (oh yeah, they did end up getting the correct one ordered in time for race day, so bonus!!). <br />
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Following the ride, we had some coffee and breakfast #1 before we went to the Ultraman brunch (breakfast #2) at the King K Hotel. Brunch was followed by the athlete meeting where they went over each day's course and the rules of the race. We took a couple of pics and were sent on our way.<br />
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We came home and got straight to work. Josie and H started meal prep. Chris started prepping the van and the bikes. DB and I started packing my transition bag for day 1, and all my extra gear for both bike days. We also laid out all my swim gear, and filled the bottles that will either need to go onto the kayak or onto my bike at the start of the ride. Hillary called and we went over race strategy and I could feel how much she loves this event. She will be with us in spirit this weekend as we travel over this hallowed ground. <br />
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Now? Now we relax. We have 14 hours before the start. 14 hours. That's over 50,000 moments before I dip my toes in the Pacific Ocean and start my journey. I can't believe how quickly it has come. I dreamed of this day for the last 18 months, or 5 years, depending on when you start counting. I feel so incredibly lucky to be able to do what I love more than anything, surrounded by people who love me, for the next few days. In the last few years I've said "yes" to more and more dreams and opportunities. Life is so short. SAY YES TO YOUR DREAMS.<br />
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THANK YOU to everyone who has reached out and shared words of encouragement. Thank you to everyone near and far who has cheered on social media. I haven't had a lot of time to be on Facebook or IG, so I apologize if I haven't responded personally-- but I am getting the messages and they mean so much!! Thank you to my "mainland Ohana"-- my friends and family at home who have been with me on this journey from the start. They've trained with me. They've laughed and cried with me. They've been my support system over the last year of this journey.<br />
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Thank you to Sheryl, David and Jane for giving me this opportunity and for creating a course that showcases the beauty of the island. Thank you for the enormous amount of work that went into changing the course when the volcano erupted earlier this year. I feel lucky to be in the group of athletes that gets to experience Ultraman World Championships on this new course. <br />
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Thank you to my coach, Hillary, without whom I would probably have never even attempted this crazy distance. Her passion for the sport is contagious, and her love for the island is palpable. I know without a doubt I am ready to take on this adventure. <br />
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Thank you to my family, who when they heard I was invited to race Ultraman, decided it would be the perfect time for a family vacation to Hawaii, and they booked a trip. They will be at the start and finish lines each day and with me in spirit over the entire journey. <br />
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And most of all, thank you to my amazing crew. I hope I take time to tell you every single day how much I appreciate you. You have given up vacation time at work, given up time with family over the Thanksgiving holiday weekend, and given of your energy to be here and support me in this journey. Dan, Heidi, Chris, and Josie-- you are my chosen Ohana, and I love you all. I could not do this without you guys. I am forever grateful.<br />
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I'm signing off now and as much as I'd like to say I'll be back on Monday with updates-- I can't make any guarantees. When I have recovered and processed and digested everything that happens I will have a story to tell. Until then...<br />
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Aloha.</div>
FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-85255597805119439262018-11-18T08:04:00.000-08:002018-11-18T08:04:18.612-08:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 17I slept like a rock last night. YAY! I started my day with a 10 mile progression run over the final 10 miles of the day 3 course. It was a little bit overcast today so it was perfect running weather.<br />
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After the run I made a quick breakfast, ran one final errand before my first crew member arrives tonight, and took a soak in some epsom salts. Before long it was almost noon and time to start thinking about biking again. We have dinner reservations tonight with my parents before picking Chris up from the airport so the plan was to leave by noon, pick up my bike, and head toward Waimea to make up the missing miles from the ride I did the other day on the day 2 course.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT4x7_U_q2oLDPC4tb00-LZdhrIu-AIh737CzKyaxiIsfZ8HtnBs5ZVIbVMpOicmk7_jis-9AXkzueWb-tDTbfqWOwV_1VoPW7tCv5ix0ZVJ6gq7slbls7XNDrnKCcK_rOvnwdLpirOw8/s1600/2018111795142534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="901" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT4x7_U_q2oLDPC4tb00-LZdhrIu-AIh737CzKyaxiIsfZ8HtnBs5ZVIbVMpOicmk7_jis-9AXkzueWb-tDTbfqWOwV_1VoPW7tCv5ix0ZVJ6gq7slbls7XNDrnKCcK_rOvnwdLpirOw8/s320/2018111795142534.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Less than thrilled about the weather.</td></tr>
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As we drove inland we started noticing the clouds hanging pretty low in the sky. Once we passed through Waimea and started down the descent on the back side it was pouring rain and foggy. After 10 miles, I told Dan to turn the car around head back to Waimea, this wasn't likely to end any time soon. We found a little cafe in Waimea and had lunch. The rain persisted and since we didn't have all day to wait around, I decided I would just ride the descent from Waimea back to Kawaihae. It's about 10 miles, super steep and winding road. The winds were a bit switchy so I'm glad I had an opportunity to practice this before race day.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the lava tube.</td></tr>
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On the way home we made a quick stop to check out the lava tube that opens up right onto the QK. I have run and ridden past it at least a dozen times, and never had the time to stop. Today was that time. We also hit up a little road side stand -- intending to get malasadas but they were waiting for the dough to rise, so I settled for a coconut instead.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coconuts!</td></tr>
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FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-73626790081509479432018-11-16T21:41:00.000-08:002018-11-16T21:41:08.835-08:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 16I woke up a wee bit cranky as I did not sleep well... did I drink too much caffeine on Thursday? Am I at the point now in taper where I'm not doing as much so I don't need 9-10 hours of sleep?? Either way, I was a little gruff when the alarm went off. But that quickly wore off as I got some coffee in me, and we headed toward the pool.<div>
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Today's set was only 4k, but a good 1k+ of swimming with paddles which reminded me that I just did a 10k 2 days ago... and 5 days ago... My arms were D.E.A.D. Hopped on the bike straight out of the pool and cruised a couple of hours easy on the QK. </div>
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On the way back through town we picked up my parents, stopped briefly to drop bikes off at our rental and take a quick shower, then we were off to brunch at the Coffee Shack. One gigantic latte, and a papaya boat later and we were heading back down the hill to relax for the afternoon. (The food was amazing, and the people really are as friendly as I thought the other day!!)</div>
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We stocked up on groceries and as the afternoon wore on we prepped dinner and relaxed out on the lanai as we ate and watched the sunset. Do I sound more relaxed to you?? Cause I feel more relaxed. </div>
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One of the things I loved to do before I got serious about triathlon was cook. I could spend hours in the kitchen and made a point of trying new recipes every week. I love food, and I love experimenting and working with different ingredients. As I planned and prepared dinner for my family tonight it reminded me of how much I miss spending time in the kitchen. All of our produce was locally grown, and we had fresh fish (caught in Hawaii), and even dessert that we had picked up at the Coffee Shack. </div>
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Tomorrow is probably not going to be quite this chill, but I'll take today for what it was and allow tomorrow to be what it needs to be. I'm heading to bed for the night. I promised to share a few things that I had learned over my few days away-- and I still will. But for now, I'm going to just let this calm carry me into sleep. </div>
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Aloha.</div>
FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-20222880165277297662018-11-15T21:41:00.000-08:002018-11-16T21:41:37.100-08:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 15Without judgement or comment here's what I've been up to the last few days.<br />
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Day 13. I rode 75 miles with over 5k climbing. I did a recovery swim. On the bike ride we found a total gem of a coffee spot. It's called the Coffee Shack-- and it literally looks like a shack from the road, but it has a back porch with the most spectacular view, and the people there are so nice. Maybe it's because I cried in their parking lot for 45 minutes, but they were very sweet to me. And then we found this view tucked away...<br />
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Day 14. I swam 10k in the pool. Less than 72 hours after my 10k OW swim... I really enjoyed this challenge. (OK, I lied, there was commentary.) Afterwards I ate a LOT of pancakes at IHOP and took a 2 hour nap. Then I ran and did some core / strength work.<br />
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Day 15. I biked some hill repeats, ran and did a recovery swim.<br />
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I also had a chat with Hillary this morning. She shared some stories to make me feel more normal. About how everyone struggles with the swim the first time around. Like one athlete she had wouldn't speak to her for 6 hours after they swam the course together. And then she went on to have the fastest swim time on race day. Which is why it's so important to practice the course ahead of time-- so it's not a shock on race day.<br />
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She also reminded me that just because the course is more difficult than I could have imagined, that does not make me any less fit. I'm still in great shape. I can still execute my plan on this course. It doesn't matter what that looks like, time wise.<br />
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She also said that the hay is in the barn. And that between now and race day I have free reign to do whatever I need to do to get mentally prepared for the race. So if that means I sit and drink coffee all day, that's what I do. Honestly, the training is fine, and I want to do the work for the sake of the work. But it's nice to know that if I have another panic attack or meltdown, I have a hall pass.<br />
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My parents arrived tonight. We picked them up from the airport and dropped them at the hotel. We moved into the rental house this afternoon--- and already my stress level has dropped. It's quiet. I don't have to fight anyone for parking. It has tons of space and a full kitchen and an amazing view. It's the perfect crew staging area. I have a few other things I want to share (all positive). But for now I'm heading to bed. Tomorrow will be an early morning, but only because I want to be able to enjoy the afternoon off with my family.FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-84833534609814799832018-11-12T21:20:00.000-08:002018-11-16T21:41:53.146-08:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 126:01 am. I peek at the alarm clock. <br />
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6:24 am. I roll out of bed clearly not falling back to sleep.</div>
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7:00 am. I put 9 quarters in the washer and toss all my stinky, sweaty clothes from the last few days in.</div>
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7:03 am. I'm in line at the breakfast buffet. Oh, yeah. This is a rest day. My day to eat and get caught up on life.</div>
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7:34 am. It's really too bad that you can't stockpile food for the rest of the day. I would have loved to eat three times as much as I did, but at least I can get free coffee refills until 10 am. We head back and toss the towels and socks in the dryer, and take the rest of the clothes up to the room to hang out to dry. I gather my computer and head back downstairs to work. </div>
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11:37 am. The lunch crowd has rolled in and it's getting noisy in my little work spot. I head back up to the room to keep working. </div>
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12:45 pm. I walk downstairs and head to the adjacent building for my massage/ chiropractic appointment.</div>
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3 pm. Massage was OK. Chiropractic appointment... I had my energies balanced. Yes, that's right. Walked in thinking my cervical spine needed adjusting, walked out with my astral spine aligned. Welcome to Hawaii. I jest, but was pretty amazing actually. It was like the universe was sending me another reminder that it is here to support me. That healing comes from within. That I can choose to be well. </div>
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3:05 pm. I am freaking out. (OK, my balance didn't last long.) I get back to the room to find my bike - which we had taken in earlier to have a compact crank put on the front in an effort to make climbing easier - was back AND WITH THE WRONG SIZE CRANK ARMS. I'm in full on panic mode. The shop closes in 3 hours, I don't have the flexibility to ride 170s, and I have a 6 hour ride.... tomorrow. </div>
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3:06 pm. Also, my tongue still feels gross from the swim yesterday. Have you ever burnt your tongue on hot soup or coffee? And it feels a little bit swollen, and like you can't taste properly for a few days? Well multiply that by 20, and that's what swimming in saltwater for 3 hours feels like.... for days afterward. I'll probably have normal feeling back in my tongue by next week. Just in time to do this all over again. Maybe my tongue will develop some immunity to the salt water...</div>
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3:25 pm. I'm calm again. The gap between stimulus and response is getting a little bit bigger. At least I'm recognizing when I react a way that is not in alignment with who I am. And I apologized for my outburst. I am a work in progress. Anyway, my bike is now back at the shop getting my old cranks/ chain rings put back on. They're going to see if they can order the correct size and have it in before the race. And we're sitting at the Kona Brewery contemplating food. They have this amazing Asian chicken dish with rice and steamed veggies... it's spicy, sweet. I'm having de ja vu, so I likely have already told you about this dish. My world revolves around food. And sleep. </div>
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4:45 pm. I'm showering to get all the oil off of my skin from the massage. I've made it through the whole day without truly sweating. (My legs did get a little gross against the leather of the car seat...) Mary 1, Hawaii 11. </div>
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6:18 pm. I'm debating gelato. I want some. But I don't want to walk to get it. The sun is down, so I'll keep my non-sweating streak alive. But I'm tired, and I just want to lay in bed and watch TV. My bike is back from the shop so the ride will go on. </div>
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6:47 pm. The ice cream hit the spot. We ended up at Kona Haven for a scoop of the mac nut ice cream. Sweet, salty. Creamy, crunchy. Delicious. </div>
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6:50 pm. I set the timer on my meditation app for 15 minutes and close my eyes. I breathe. </div>
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7:13 pm. I'm getting bottles ready for tomorrow and getting ready for bed while watching HGTV. My secret guilty pleasure. I'm looking forward to re-doing my first ride tomorrow, with new focus, new energy, new appreciation. </div>
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Aloha. </div>
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FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-21306629290835635112018-11-11T22:22:00.000-08:002018-11-16T21:42:09.072-08:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 11Time is passing. With or without me. In 12 days from now I'm going to be lining up on Dig Me Beach waiting to start my journey. Today was another lesson in not resisting. Just embrace what is.<br />
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Our day started early. 415 am to be exact. I was sleeping so soundly when the alarm sounded and I groaned. I was not ready to get out of bed. One hour later we were leaving our hotel to head to the swim exit at Keauhou Bay where we were meeting my paddler, Sarah. We dropped our van there and hopped in her truck to head to the swim start. 10k swim on tap.<br />
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It was still dark when we were getting our stuff together on the pier. Bottles of nutrition, sunscreen, extra vaseline for swimming in salt water. We clipped everything onto the kayak so it was secure, and helped get Sarah into the boat and off of the sea wall in the high tide.<br />
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The plan was to stop every 30 minutes to feed. The first hour went by rather uneventfully. By 90 minutes in I was thinking, OK this is good. We can do this. 45 minutes later I declared that I had lost all will to live and I was quite certain that the sea was going to claim my body. On another note, I've been thinking that rather than writing my speech for the awards banquet, I should probably write my acceptance speech for the award I'm getting for my performance as lead actress in a dramatic role.<br />
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Sarah was puking off the side of the kayak every time we stopped. With 2 miles to go Dan was wanting to stop every 10 minutes because he felt bad. And as much as I wanted to just take off and cruise to the finish, they were both out there for me. I couldn't abandon my crew when the going got rough.<br />
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Eventually we made it to the Bay and once on solid ground, Sarah felt much better. We chatted with a couple of locals for a minute and then started the process of hauling the kayak up to the car. Meanwhile, Dan was looking pretty terrible sitting on the dock -- and I didn't realize just how terrible he felt until 5 minutes later when he was on hands and knees in the parking lot heaving everything he had consumed the previous 4 hours all over the concrete.<br />
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To make matters worse, I'm a sympathetic puker. So when someone is puking, I'm not the one rushing to hold their hair back. My response is avoidance, and then irritation. I lose all ability to be compassionate and empathetic. So weird, I know. Plus I had been dreaming of pancakes from IHOP for the last 2 hours and now I knew that was off the table.<br />
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We dropped Sarah off at her truck and headed back to the hotel. Shower, food and then I collapsed into bed and didn't set an alarm. 2 hours of blissful sleep after which I laid in bed another hour before I finally got up to get ready for my afternoon run.<br />
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416 pm. I hop out of the van and start running. I have no expectations for this run so I'm pleasantly surprised to find that my legs feel fantastic. (Yay triple run day!!) I bang out 10 miles and finish my run as the sun is setting over the water.<br />
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Laying in bed watching reruns of The Big Bang Theory tonight I don't feel rushed. Tomorrow is a rest day. I have a lot to get done, but I also don't have to leave my air conditioned room if I don't want to. My schedule doesn't drop off quite as quickly as I had hoped this week, but again--- 12 days. In 12 days the journey starts, and in 15 days it's over. I'm trying to soak up every last ounce of preparation, every lesson, every opportunity for growth.<br />
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Aloha.<br />
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<br />FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-14449856420098404922018-11-10T21:16:00.000-08:002018-11-10T21:16:15.153-08:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 10Q: What happens when you take a mountain girl and put her on the beach for a month?<br />
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A: You watch her slowly unravel.<br />
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I feel like this is my undoing. I am reaching a new breaking point. A new low. The irony is not lost on me. I worked so hard to get here. This was the goal for 18 months. And I think I am on the brink of learning something completely amazing. About myself. About life. About dreams, and vulnerability, and courage. I just have to go through this gauntlet first. To be forged in the fire. <br />
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Today was triple run day. A way to squeeze 19 miles into a day while also being forced to run on tired legs. Aside from the couple of hours I was running, I was relaxing in the room, catching up on my new favorite show which is THE WORST show for me to be watching right now.... (A Million Little Things). I cry through every episode. Even before I came here and started crying through every workout. And I attempted to rehydrate and eat between runs- though I swear I am perpetually dehydrated which makes me nauseous and not hungry.<br />
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I also got a chance to listen to a couple of really good podcasts today. <a href="https://findingmastery.net/brene-brown/" target="_blank"><b>Michael Gervais interviewed Brene Brown</b></a> which was exactly what I needed this morning. My sour mood improved 20 minutes into my first run listening to their conversation. And I listened to <a href="https://www.yogitriathlete.com/podcast-130-julie-moss-ironman-legend-on-holding-on-to-self-worth-and-owning-the-hard-stuff/" target="_blank"><b>YogiTriathlete's</b></a> interview with Julie Moss during my second run, and easy spin which made the hours of sweating more enjoyable. I caught up on Serial season 3 during my 3rd run-- which I hate to admit, I'm not loving. It makes me feel a little bit hopeless about our justice system. I loved season one, and I enjoyed being challenged to think and consider other opinions besides my own in season two, and Sarah is a great story teller, but the stories in season 3 are a bit depressing. If you're listening, I'd love to hear what you think- and what you thought about season one and two for that matter. We discussed the ethics and sides of season two on our preview of the day one bike course last week. <br />
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Other than that there's really nothing to report from today. Tomorrow will be a challenging day but Monday is a REST day and I am *hoping* the start of taper. I have a massage scheduled and I plan to sleep and drink coffee and eat. And that is it. I'm looking forward to moving into our rental house next week. This hotel thing is getting really old. Our room is directly above the pavilion where all the entertainment takes place (read: weddings with loud stupid music until all hours of the night). Even with a sound machine and ear plugs, you feel the bass in your chest which keeps you awake regardless of how much you drown out the actual singing. I'm pretty sure I didn't sleep at all last night, which probably contributed to my mood today. Tonight I'm going to try the noise-cancelling headphones and see if it's any better. Though I'm not sure I have a suitable playlist on my ipod for sleeping. I'm currently scouring Google playstore for sound apps.<br />
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4:15 am wake up call tomorrow. I better start thinking about sleep. <br />
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Aloha.<br />
<a href="https://findingmastery.net/brene-brown/" target="_blank"><br /></a>
<br />FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-1906886308698014182018-11-09T20:03:00.000-08:002018-11-09T20:03:52.661-08:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 96:31 am. I am awake. I lay in bed for a while before finally getting up. Today is a recovery day so only 2 hours worth of workouts. I have a list of other things I need to do, but this is priority. <br />
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7:15 am. We do 30 minutes of strength training in the hotel fitness center. This involves yoga mats on the floor with some free weights. I write a circuit including burpees, squats, dead lifts, planks, rows, and overhead press. It's a tiny little room but thankfully we're the only ones in it. (Everyone else is eating breakfast.)<br />
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8:30 am. We're swimming at the Kona Aquatic Center. My arms are D.E.A.D. Not to even speak of my quads which burn with fatigue making the 2k of 25 fly/ 75 free super fun. My 200s for time are laughable. As in "did someone convert this yards pool to meters overnight?" laughable. But this is a recovery day. And I've had 3 hard days so I'm not surprised I feel a little bit like dirt. It's all good. <br />
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10:10 am. I drop my bike off at the bike shop for a tune up. The rock I hit in yesterday's ride sent my derailleur into crash safety mode. I didn't even know this was a thing, but it is and thank God I didn't do any real damage. I had scheduled this tune up 2 days ago, so once again, timing is perfection. I walk next door to the yoga studio / coffee shop and order an iced coffee with 4 shots of espresso mixed with dark chocolate. <br />
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10:49 am. I throw two loads of laundry into the wash. After 3 days of biking + double bike day I'm down to one kit. And nothing dries quickly here so I have to stay on top of the clothing pile up. <br />
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10:58 am. I'm back up on my floor, but now the cleaning lady is in our room. So I stand in the hallway scrolling Instagram while she finishes up. I get back into my room just in time to turn around and go get the clothes out of the washer.<br />
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11:33 am. We finish hanging clean clothing around the room and the balcony. We wander down Ali'i to Daylight Mind for a bite to eat. The food is AMAZING. Like the most perfect spinach leaves you've ever seen. I eat a benedict with avocado, spinach and tomatoes, minus the hollendaise sauce, plus a side salad. I drink a kale and mango smoothie. Fresh food tastes amazing after eating training food for 3 days.<br />
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12:55 pm. I get a call from the bike shop. Apparently there was some confusion as when I scheduled the tune up, somehow it got entered into the system as just the inspection for Ultraman. We got it sorted out and he told me I could come get the bike, that he'd have it ready to go.<br />
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2:27 pm. I'm waiting at the bike shop for them to finish up the tune up. My bike gets inspected, but my back-up bike doesn't pass because of some spoke issues. We schedule another inspection for race week when another pair of wheels will be available for me to use. <br />
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3:05 pm. We're at Target again getting a few things. Like frozen fruit (fresh fruit lasts like a day if you're lucky) and almond butter. Stuff to make smoothies with. <br />
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3:54 pm. We're back at the room and I feel like my whole day is gone. Nothing happens fast here. My mom always jokes about how everyone in Hawaii is on "wiki wiki time". This is a legit thing. <br />
I thought I'd have all this free time to get caught up on emails/ work stuff... and now it's practically bedtime. Maybe I'm cranky because I'm hungry again. So we make nachos. Blue corn chips, black beans, salsa, avocado. It's delicious.<br />
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5:47 pm. Work emails are done. Caught up on my training log from yesterday and today. We've officially been here for a full week. Time is going by quickly, and slowly, all at the same time. Today I'm particularly grateful for all the friends who've reached out in support. This first week was rough, and I try not to be melodramatic, but I also want to share where I *really* am. No fluff. No filter. And knowing that I have friends who love me no matter what is really uplifting. I honestly feel like I have a new outlook on things and am feeling calm again. So THANK YOU for your emails, texts, DMs. You are so appreciated. <br />
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5:56 pm. I'm getting in the recovery boots. I'm going to lay here and think about sleeping. And I'll probably be asleep in the next 30 minutes.<br />
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Aloha.FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-56371835131119694612018-11-08T22:52:00.000-08:002018-11-08T22:52:47.011-08:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 8<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">"Expectation is the root of all heartache." </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">William Shakespeare</span></b></blockquote>
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Another 4 am wake up call for what should have been my last longest day. I was to preview 147 miles of day 2, skipping over the first 24 miles which I rode just two days ago. I knew it was going to be a long day and after Tuesday's ride, I also knew what lay ahead. <br />
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One might think that after having done the big climb, and knowing what was involved, it would be easier the second time around. It was not. I still struggled. It still took me 4 hours to bike 28 miles. I still quit a thousand times even though I never stopped. I still swore I was never going to ride my bike again. <br />
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And then something amazing happened. <br />
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As I left Hilo I was feeling pretty down. I knew there would be no way I could make the time cutoff on day 2. And that hurt. A lot. I applied to Ultraman Worlds with the expectation that barring disaster, I would complete each day within the time allotment. I arrived on the island with this expectation knowing the work I had done in preparation for this, over months and years. I also arrived on the island with the expectation from my coach that I would not only finish, but do well and be competitive. <br />
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I don't feel like these expectations were unrealistic, generally speaking. I had the fastest women's time on day 2 in Australia the year I raced. And I had the fastest bike split 3 months ago in Mont Tremblant in my age group, and one of the top 10 women's splits overall. I am not a bad cyclist. But when after 90 miles, my average pace is just over 10 mph... the math doesn't add up. It is physically not possible for me to ride 171 miles, on this course, in 12 hours. <br />
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As I rode along I let the scenery distract me from my thoughts, and in that moment I was overwhelmed with the urge to cry- not from pain or frustration as was my norm- but because of the sheer beauty of this ride. If you've never biked the saddle road into Hilo, or taken the 19 from Hilo to Waimea on two wheels- you must. It is hands down one of the most beautiful rides I've ever done- on par with the Alaska Extreme Tri course. <br />
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And then it hit me, I was letting my expectations steal my joy. This is not me. These are not my thoughts. I chose to apply to race here because of the challenge it presented. That challenge still stands, and I can pursue it with joy and passion, or I can quit. <br />
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I continued my ride and in my head I was composing my consolation speech. (At the awards banquet each athlete gives a speech- and they order them by non- finishers, participants--those who completed it, but didn't make the time cutoff--, and finishers from slowest to fastest). So I imagined being one of the participants sharing my thoughts on how this was not how I wanted things to go. I cried (AGAIN) as I rode, and I let it all go. I let go of the expectations. I let go of the fear of failure. I let it go. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcC8xUNOJ0UHs1ySoZyuniEFdISIzi7Zj3W9xUJZKV-IYF3GcNgSLDFDz3nwyCYtVuLly-pN_qqhi6mgaCfL6eMTIcMm5kMccUVhZd4LVRnazNqT5V7qhHVpByfcRSkxX_VEWoYX8riow/s1600/2018110895134622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcC8xUNOJ0UHs1ySoZyuniEFdISIzi7Zj3W9xUJZKV-IYF3GcNgSLDFDz3nwyCYtVuLly-pN_qqhi6mgaCfL6eMTIcMm5kMccUVhZd4LVRnazNqT5V7qhHVpByfcRSkxX_VEWoYX8riow/s320/2018110895134622.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
A few minutes later I hit a huge rock in the road which bounced off my rear derailleur and caused me to lose function of my gears. I was stuck in the biggest gear with a lot of climbing left to go. My day was over. The irony of this is that for 105 miles I said I was finished. That I quit. That I was done with this. And the minute I let go and decided to just enjoy riding my bike, the universe steps in and ends my day. A reminder to be careful what you wish for.<br />
<br />
I knocked out my 5 mile transition run, and then on the way back to the hotel I called the #bff, who is also my voice of reason. I told her what I knew- that I wouldn't make the time cutoff on day 2- but that I was also OK with this, and I was going to keep biking until they were told to pull me off the course. I told her we might be out there for a really long time on day 2, and this won't set us up well for day 3, but I am going to finish what I started. <br />
<br />
I am at peace with this now. And I'm glad I have 2 more weeks to solidify the plan in my head, and to be calm with it. More than anything I want to do what I love most- and that is race with joy. I don't want to be negative. I want to choose away from the negative, to lean into the challenge, and just keep taking one breath at a time. FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-34616657123053695332018-11-07T21:56:00.001-08:002018-11-07T21:56:30.478-08:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 6 & 7<b><u>Day 6</u></b>. Here are some actual comments from my workout log from Tuesday, November 6:<br />
<br />
"I stopped at least 5 times on the climb, and I quit no less than a thousand times."<br />
<br />
"I am legit worried I could miss the 12 hour time cutoff on day 2."<br />
<br />
"Also, I cried for at least 90 minutes of this ride."<br />
<br />
"Today was all mental."<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFwAqPS4OB_mJV1PhFkHAO8ZO2WWA447poojkqF7gPIgdHnHgtpp1XfW3T6NK8W2ERz1NoutHS4WwIdlb51uYY3fu11rVjBPhRezZTeQJwWgg_HL05d4NF62NMRAA0PskGxqsUDcwYxKA/s1600/20181106_114606.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFwAqPS4OB_mJV1PhFkHAO8ZO2WWA447poojkqF7gPIgdHnHgtpp1XfW3T6NK8W2ERz1NoutHS4WwIdlb51uYY3fu11rVjBPhRezZTeQJwWgg_HL05d4NF62NMRAA0PskGxqsUDcwYxKA/s320/20181106_114606.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I totally don't remember smiling, but apparently I did when I made it to the top.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
As luck would have it I was scheduled to skype with Jess (my meditation teacher) this afternoon. And I literally got back to the hotel room 9 minutes before our scheduled chat. Timing could not have been more perfect as I was a complete mess. <br />
<br />
I was so negative all day. And I could see how ridiculous I was being, but I just couldn't get out of it. I was drowning. The most important things she told me was A) to be gentle with myself (I have a lot going on in my life right now, and add in the training load on top of it and I'm completely broken down) and B) just breathe the next breath I'm given. When there is nothing else... when gratitude and joy and kindness are so far removed from my reality, just take the next breath that I'm given. I can do that. How many times do you take a breath and not even think about it? It's automatic if you let it be. But when you focus your attention on just that one breath, everything else seems just a little bit easier to manage.<br />
<br />
I finished my day with an easy run with some pickups to shake off the long ride from earlier in the day. Though I was feeling better my energy was completely sapped and I was ready to crawl into bed at 630 pm. So I did. And I didn't even care. <br />
<br />
<b><u>Day 7</u></b>. <br />
<br />
I woke up 8 minutes before my alarm went off after over 10 hours of sleep. I felt rested but still pretty raw from yesterday. I cried through half of my meditation this morning. At some point the tears dried up and calmness set in.<br />
<br />
We drove to the pool at opening. I had a 5700 yd swim including the main set that I nearly failed last week. Today I had no expectations, good or bad. I had done everything I could to prepare myself for this-- got a good night sleep, ate a good breakfast, etc. It was going to be what it was.<br />
<br />
I felt OK during the warm up, nothing special, but I knew when I started the main set that I felt really good. Nothing like last week. I was crushing it. Not quite hitting the ideal target, but I was within 1-2 seconds (as opposed to 5 seconds+ last week). About a third of the way through the set my goggles started to leak. I said to myself, I don't need to see to swim, I just need to breathe. And I kept swimming. (This set is on short rest so there's not enough time to adjust goggles at the wall.) Eventually they stopped leaking and I was still swimming. This felt like a win, especially after yesterday.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfA83O73FvC1fPVXQHSrhzCx8YNK0CBmgQ9Xn_aNpjcUszKpkt_YdCV791Kk8h27yqNVdwnVhuKxHK1Ry95HLFeMW8ccAL_pZlTqYkQ416bjykW73p7t1TKsodA1FFsWQKP6-pRr__D_Y/s1600/20181107_101914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfA83O73FvC1fPVXQHSrhzCx8YNK0CBmgQ9Xn_aNpjcUszKpkt_YdCV791Kk8h27yqNVdwnVhuKxHK1Ry95HLFeMW8ccAL_pZlTqYkQ416bjykW73p7t1TKsodA1FFsWQKP6-pRr__D_Y/s320/20181107_101914.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hill repeats done!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
After the swim we had a 2 hour bike ride with some hill repeats. AND THEN.... we went to IHOP. Yep, #sorrynotsorry. I ate #allthecalories. <br />
<br />
After breakfast (which was actually more like lunch) we hit up Bike Works to do a little shopping. And then back to the hotel to regroup for the afternoon session. It's amazing how quickly time goes by when you don't want it to. Before long our mandatory 3 hour break was up and we needed to start thinking about getting our act together for the afternoon brick. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxjzQa7vZwCFf0sPu1SMx-z8ChvvoRB_kDMeYp0GU8JygRhUxRUtj_pxALsJU37RQYcxdTIzkFsKEvx678i4TZfMm0mt4JSwhEtrUBun9IUCleJHlPyTGosfWdajYHmJU8mROjg91MywE/s1600/20181107_112956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxjzQa7vZwCFf0sPu1SMx-z8ChvvoRB_kDMeYp0GU8JygRhUxRUtj_pxALsJU37RQYcxdTIzkFsKEvx678i4TZfMm0mt4JSwhEtrUBun9IUCleJHlPyTGosfWdajYHmJU8mROjg91MywE/s320/20181107_112956.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh yes I did!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
3 hours and 45 minutes after we finished our morning ride, we were back on the bike for another 2 hours followed by an easy run in the Energy Lab. The second ride wasn't great. My legs just felt dead and I had nothing to give in my intervals. But I didn't let it get in my head, and I didn't let it ruin my run. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYJStNRIEfPf-m1NsWuCaZJU4va7EtXvI0CNx-6PrWKUn6qk4CziDgxvX25Slz7cJkXIhBJw9UNJWJnHb3Nwg8sTWdcemFSoTWwQi4ayfP4HtqLhxbW18dLCtTakyo8ynEymJjsfYdY5c/s1600/20181107_171734.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYJStNRIEfPf-m1NsWuCaZJU4va7EtXvI0CNx-6PrWKUn6qk4CziDgxvX25Slz7cJkXIhBJw9UNJWJnHb3Nwg8sTWdcemFSoTWwQi4ayfP4HtqLhxbW18dLCtTakyo8ynEymJjsfYdY5c/s320/20181107_171734.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Energy Lab: where I first found Aloha. #findingaloha</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
I'm nervous for tomorrow. I'm repeating the ride from yesterday--- and adding on another 80 miles. It's going to be a long day, and parts of it outside my comfort zone. But I will just keep taking the next breath that I'm given. FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-8104369880599281612018-11-05T21:16:00.001-08:002018-11-05T21:16:52.586-08:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 5.5:01 am. I pick my head up to look at the clock. Yesssss. 8.5 hours of sleep. I lay here a moment longer and contemplate the morning.<br />
<br />
5:30 am. I take my laptop out onto the lanai to start working. Today is a recovery day and I have a lot to catch up on between writing plans, Cadence, and logging into Oasis. <br />
<br />
7:11 am. I press start on my watch and start swimming. I've picked up one of the "safe swimmer" buoys which actually doubles as a place to store car keys, etc. And it gives the illusion that I might be more visible to boats, etc. It floats, but it's actually creating a bit of drag as I fight the current heading south along the shore. I feel a bit lazy today. The body feels fine, I just lack energy. And it shows as I struggle to keep up with DB, and I'm now regretting my suggestion for him to wear cheater panties. <br />
<br />
7:44 am. We can't see any buoys. I'm not sure if it's the roll of the waves, or the boats that have anchored nearby? And GPS stopped tracking at 1080 yards into the swim, which was where we popped our heads up at the 1.2 mile turn around. It feels like I need to swim for another 5 minutes, but I also don't have the energy to argue about where the actual turnaround is, so we turn around.<br />
<br />
8:30 am. I'm waiting at the van for him to get his run gear on so I can go get coffee and head back to home base. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6BzYRTUBylPr8QITiIiGcRj72LiT5WzV0tXsABeL9dyV3qvceIY3iDc2Op6sf418tV_QPLp8ch58gVQVOvMl9P6kv4XZHGJBisgWWlqUCw40NKCCJqmbJdfF3XjN-6ClYCI2xPtXPnuE/s1600/2018110495153958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6BzYRTUBylPr8QITiIiGcRj72LiT5WzV0tXsABeL9dyV3qvceIY3iDc2Op6sf418tV_QPLp8ch58gVQVOvMl9P6kv4XZHGJBisgWWlqUCw40NKCCJqmbJdfF3XjN-6ClYCI2xPtXPnuE/s320/2018110495153958.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ocean view.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
8:47 am. I should have sipped my coffee when I left the coffee shop because now it's too late to ask questions and I'm pretty certain there's some form of sweetener in my latte. Stevia, maybe? I'm not sure but it makes my tongue prickle. Which I hate. I drink it anyway because there's 3 shots of espresso that cannot go to waste. <br />
<br />
9:55 am. I put a load of laundry into the washer and pop 9 quarters into the machine. Apparently the cost of laundry has increased significantly since 1995. I take my laptop to a high top table overlooking the ocean and start writing athlete plans. <br />
<br />
10:25 am. I toss the socks and towels into the dryer and take all the rest of my stuff upstairs to hang out to dry. Or attempt to dry. I'm not sure anything ever dries in 80% humidity. But at least it won't smell when I put it back on. <br />
<br />
10:42 am. I am back downstairs working with my amazing "home office" view. <br />
<br />
11:32 am. I am texting with Josie about her arrival on the island and we are sending selfies of our "current sitch." She gets this one of my in my home office: <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT0-S52jk75cgsXz3kPDIzT0A3-0MuY6WSu7fYDQvNjiSzUx2uAamPE3wpD5j4netVUgomdBRgNxB4J3l2YbF-yBZ5zQYxQ7ry8GL-i1Xvx9TZi3qRWVsXJt3DJ1kqapVy3nD24GV7G60/s1600/20181105_113210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT0-S52jk75cgsXz3kPDIzT0A3-0MuY6WSu7fYDQvNjiSzUx2uAamPE3wpD5j4netVUgomdBRgNxB4J3l2YbF-yBZ5zQYxQ7ry8GL-i1Xvx9TZi3qRWVsXJt3DJ1kqapVy3nD24GV7G60/s320/20181105_113210.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Home office!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
11:36 am. We retrieve the laundry from the dryer, drop it upstairs and wander across the street to grab lunch at Foster's Kitchen which is my current favorite place to eat. They make this amazing ahi lime stacker. All sorts of goodness. I follow it with a shrimp salad. <br />
<br />
1:16 pm. I'm back in the room and back to work. Checking emails, login to Oasis to check lab results and respond to emails. Pay the invoice for The Next Big Thing. Write myself a reminder to book the hotel. Work on Cadence stuff. <br />
<br />
3:17 pm. Text my teammate Amy to find out what she's ordering for Team SFQ gear for 2019. Place order. So much cute new stuff!!! <br />
<br />
3:26 pm. Make a list for the week. Flying by the seat of my pants isn't really my thing as we're finding out. Or found out after day 1 as it were. So now I have start times for all my workouts for the rest of the week. No more guess work. No more "why are you waking me up at this hour???" <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSZgm7bME6Wo8_dK01JiVbIb5NOhtQqxFlhy6KWFvnPmB-yj4q3tJCESzjDufI3TqRXhcd9uQfR7ADpBxAjLUn8xUBqs4XiXVmZ4tXCxNGpHhF6fbgDbLrv-PicX-vqzLeE8q3Wk_5Bx8/s1600/20181105_172754.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSZgm7bME6Wo8_dK01JiVbIb5NOhtQqxFlhy6KWFvnPmB-yj4q3tJCESzjDufI3TqRXhcd9uQfR7ADpBxAjLUn8xUBqs4XiXVmZ4tXCxNGpHhF6fbgDbLrv-PicX-vqzLeE8q3Wk_5Bx8/s320/20181105_172754.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dinner with a view.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
4:38 pm. I'm drinking a beer. I've avoided the lure of tropical beverages and this is only my second adult beverage since arriving.<br />
<br />
7:06 pm. Dinner has been consumed. Bottles are filled. Hydration pack filled. Recovery smoothie made and on ice. My feet are up and my eyelids are getting heavy. Plan is to be on the bike by 6 am. Night, y'all. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZH7JoKMJs6XefsbeKaq_mS0c-reWbzkBpmsO4VA4wlj8Io-C2J26Og7FAJs9i-g3wGWWnO8UTG8RBHP9VZCEa03v9I-VyS-na7kEtA7D61wGV8q5GZ0lWBzm6d_1C0zZinQ9mcZIlxtE/s1600/20181105_172722.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZH7JoKMJs6XefsbeKaq_mS0c-reWbzkBpmsO4VA4wlj8Io-C2J26Og7FAJs9i-g3wGWWnO8UTG8RBHP9VZCEa03v9I-VyS-na7kEtA7D61wGV8q5GZ0lWBzm6d_1C0zZinQ9mcZIlxtE/s320/20181105_172722.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-59695629782261451952018-11-04T22:18:00.001-08:002018-11-04T22:18:23.162-08:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 41:38 am. I peek at the alarm clock. FUCK!! My sleep tonight is fitful and it is pissing me off. I know my tossing and turning is anxiety fueled. But I desperately need sleep to get through the workout on tap for later this morning. <br />
<br />
4 am. My alarm goes off. I'm not sure if I've been awake more than I've slept, but even in sleep my brain did not turn off so it feels like I've been awake all night. I remember back to Ultraman OZ and how I didn't sleep for 4 days- first because I was so nervous the night before stage 1, and then even when I was exhausted my body was beat up and I had so much caffeine and sugar in my system I couldn't sleep. It was like post Ironman on steroids. I was hoping this time would be different, but I'm starting to feel like it could be worse. The conditions here definitely add a little something extra.<br />
<br />
4:56 am. We load the car and start driving toward Kawaihae. The plan today is to run the course from 6 miles north of Kawaihae until I hit 50k, which was almost to the airport in Kona. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzOkTKQvnlmupDAqeqZo_9BJJbbKzfxUYxmuu564Tro349SQCjq7a-tmt5feZHmjUcNu4qqg_lUxMC_nf__9Lyk2IH5iWxkDal7EcNux7oTcwGPR4S4Qcp4OJwFXEYWab8GpNC3J4rk3c/s1600/2018110495060021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzOkTKQvnlmupDAqeqZo_9BJJbbKzfxUYxmuu564Tro349SQCjq7a-tmt5feZHmjUcNu4qqg_lUxMC_nf__9Lyk2IH5iWxkDal7EcNux7oTcwGPR4S4Qcp4OJwFXEYWab8GpNC3J4rk3c/s320/2018110495060021.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The start.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
6:01 am. I flip on my headlamp and start running. OK, I think, this isn't so terrible. It's still dark out and there's a light breeze. This is probably the least humid it will be all day. <br />
<br />
6:15 am. Why am I sweating so much???<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq4G_pukTgQ4r2ou8Dd7b0qNxh9_JTHOtrurPGUOz3F0OpEP4ScJqIb-376IBUXZGvudEVdIec6-4ifkN70e46cloThex5I4eGupUhlPVgk800VG1ou24V_ig332i-DacVJaaBzVktQ20/s1600/20181104_071021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq4G_pukTgQ4r2ou8Dd7b0qNxh9_JTHOtrurPGUOz3F0OpEP4ScJqIb-376IBUXZGvudEVdIec6-4ifkN70e46cloThex5I4eGupUhlPVgk800VG1ou24V_ig332i-DacVJaaBzVktQ20/s320/20181104_071021.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Random waterfall on the Queen K. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
8:40 am. We're in a rhythm of bottle handoffs. I make my first stop of the day- I'm 16 miles in and the sun is starting to scorch my neck. I pause at the car long enough to grab a cooling towel and soak it in some ice water. I quickly eat a banana and I drape the towel over my head and let the cold wet ends flap on the back of my neck as I run off down the road.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRiH6QN87mijrtZrenPmoMlXyhSicDXv3Urd1UCe0hRUryYyZr1tQS4S8jhUMH1EmACoyn0NTgh-Eo8N_qA_od0Lsl7GtgSa-LdW2aVtk4feJNhbJJVFzLU4gIFwBJzbo_y9VHBEqlWtI/s1600/2018110495074614.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRiH6QN87mijrtZrenPmoMlXyhSicDXv3Urd1UCe0hRUryYyZr1tQS4S8jhUMH1EmACoyn0NTgh-Eo8N_qA_od0Lsl7GtgSa-LdW2aVtk4feJNhbJJVFzLU4gIFwBJzbo_y9VHBEqlWtI/s320/2018110495074614.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Attacking one of the many rolling hills.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
9:30 am. 21 miles in. I stop at the car to drink a small coke. I add arm cooling sleeves to my repertoire. I tell DB I need him to stop no more than every mile now to throw ice down my cooling sleeves and wet the towel on my head. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEZ44Uw0kBuXZWlqd115PF5hlLSi1u8PMvugFbABFcEwuFR2zvmrmJI7ix0cNbt8PH0gpZ-DratzgqTa_sV8LpX5haoQmcByVLwtwcNGmY4VSOdTyveTWdVN_gXHX2guD7r6WuMboTG_w/s1600/20181104_094637.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEZ44Uw0kBuXZWlqd115PF5hlLSi1u8PMvugFbABFcEwuFR2zvmrmJI7ix0cNbt8PH0gpZ-DratzgqTa_sV8LpX5haoQmcByVLwtwcNGmY4VSOdTyveTWdVN_gXHX2guD7r6WuMboTG_w/s320/20181104_094637.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sherpa duties on point.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
9:35 am. Back on the road after my brief pit stop, I feel like I'm past the rough point of the run. Miles 16-19 were the hardest, and I'm back in a rhythm. My feet hurt, but we have this nutrition/ hydration thing nailed and I feel like I'm managing the heat. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKFZPhlCBzixPGaoiGXnIPjpu-H1FPL_Gc5pCdmM5M5esyZt-FkLaGQk31nV40e8PVwXNKV3MvB_1WBxYSifQBhR3EKtz-m25-bL43mKaaKZg0hgLQ0Wf95pmi3OOCtPgQXi6SMTl0K0/s1600/2018110495113235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKFZPhlCBzixPGaoiGXnIPjpu-H1FPL_Gc5pCdmM5M5esyZt-FkLaGQk31nV40e8PVwXNKV3MvB_1WBxYSifQBhR3EKtz-m25-bL43mKaaKZg0hgLQ0Wf95pmi3OOCtPgQXi6SMTl0K0/s320/2018110495113235.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost done!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
11:25 am. I'm laying in the back of the van with my shoes and socks off. My hydration vest, arm coolers, and towel are strewn about. I'm sipping on a coke because I need a second before I can start on the recovery shake. 31 miles done in 5 hours and 3 minutes. Far from earth shattering, but if I can hold this pace 3 weeks from today, I'll break my Australia day 3 time by an hour. <br />
<br />
12:40 pm. I've eaten my recovery shake as well as a bowl of spinach, avocado and leftover pasta from last night. I slide my legs into the recovery boots and set an alarm for one hour. I close my eyes. I don't fall asleep but I rest. <br />
<br />
1:32 pm. I receive a text message that the friend I invited a couple of weeks back to be our 4th crew person was able to arrange her schedule and she has a flight to the island. I almost cry I'm so happy. I realized today how taxing day 3 is going to be on the crew and having a 4th person to share the burden of pacing duties will help so much! Plus she has the best energy and I've been dying for her to meet my #bff for the last year so this is going to be awesome. I'm pumped!<br />
<br />
2:20 pm. Standing in front of our lane at the Kona Aquatic Center I review the first set of the recovery swim and we jump in. <br />
<br />
2:30 pm. I'm starting to get a headache. I don't know if it's the sun, the warm water, my swim cap which feels tight on my head, or if I'm dehydrated. Or maybe a combination of all 4.<br />
<br />
3:06 pm. We finish the swim. Now I'm nauseated from the headache. I don't have any tylenol... I almost never take anything - but this is one of those situations I would. <br />
<br />
3:30 pm. We pick a table at the lunch spot. I thought I could make it through lunch even though I'm too nauseated to really eat. It doesn't take long to realize I am not going to make it. DB runs across the road to the ABC store to grab tylenol and I order food to go. <br />
<br />
3:46 pm. I'm lying in the fetal position trying not to die. At some point the tylenol kicks in and I fall asleep. Deeply asleep. <br />
<br />
7:06 pm. I wake up. I think there was a noise outside. But it might have been because I'm hungry. I eat leftover sweet potato fries. I am grateful that tomorrow is a recovery day. I'll get my workout in and have time to drink coffee while writing plans and catching up on work. I plan to be inside, out of the sun, for most of the day. Even with the sheer volume of sunscreen I've been applying and reapplying, my skin is already showing the sun with new tan lines popping up each day.<br />
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8:17 pm. I'm ready to fall back asleep. <br />
<br />
<br />FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-14643345212962162732018-11-03T21:35:00.000-07:002018-11-03T21:35:31.108-07:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 34:31 am. I glance at the clock. 8.5 hours of sleep. Zero percent chance of me falling back asleep. I roll out of bed and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth.<br />
<br />
4:44 am. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING????" (someone is NOT a morning person). Me: Ummm, well, I'm awake so I'm getting ready to go swim. You can keep sleeping for another 15 minutes if you want... <br />
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5:56 am. Meditation done. Breakfast eaten. Bottles filled. We're heading toward The Club for our 10k swim.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIxWZJhDnUghxnkdViN-Nc2rGfUrG-eenpNTrhZ0fEqfEWUfwODNQoq_o-5BLXLRkrR7_vqBZSt9mJxEZT4pEuC6e0Oqqw43Wi-H7zyTO1vKan4VUQg8pulhQtpQCbX9Z_hIqGYsseLH0/s1600/20181103_061612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIxWZJhDnUghxnkdViN-Nc2rGfUrG-eenpNTrhZ0fEqfEWUfwODNQoq_o-5BLXLRkrR7_vqBZSt9mJxEZT4pEuC6e0Oqqw43Wi-H7zyTO1vKan4VUQg8pulhQtpQCbX9Z_hIqGYsseLH0/s320/20181103_061612.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My lane for 10k.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
6:20 am. Swim starts. We alternate PBB 100s on short rest with straight swim descending from 10 x 100, 900, 9 x 100.... down to 1 x 100. My arms are basically dead by 7k. It's fine. I have 20 more days to make this feel normal. I'm not worried. <br />
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9:30 am. I'm sitting in IHOP waiting for my pancakes. I eat #allthefood and it basically makes me feel not starving. That's the power of the 10k swim. You can literally eat everything and never get full. <br />
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10:48 am. Back in the room. I start checking my email. HOLY SHIT. The invite for my next big thing sits in my inbox. I text my friend Melody, who is also my swim training partner, "WE GOT IN!!!". I shouldn't start freaking out about this yet. I gotta get through the first big thing first. Then I can freak out. I used to think I was going to run out of things that scare me at some point. But now I know that's not true. You just have to expand your horizons a little bit and look outside the box. <br />
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12:50 pm. I'm getting on the bike for an easy spin. 90 minutes. Just cruising. Hills. Wind. Sun. Amazing views. <br />
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2:35 pm. I make it back just in time to grab an acai bowl from Basik before they close. The banyan. It's my favorite one. Bananas, peanut butter, hemp seeds, almonds. Perfect treat post ride. <br />
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3:30 pm. I'm hungry again so I eat a bowl of ramen noodles and tomatoes. <br />
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3:56 pm. We prep for tomorrow. Make a list of all the things we need to bring. Make sure I'm not going to drain my supply of nutrition for race day. Decide on a 4:15 am alarm. <br />
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4:22 pm. I've got 30 minutes in the recovery boots while catching a chapter or two from Alex Honnold's book, Alone on the Wall. <br />
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6:33 pm. Bottles are filled. Ice chest is filled. Not much else to do now but sleep. Don't mind if I do. FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-13112065335147216442018-11-02T23:13:00.001-07:002018-11-02T23:13:58.700-07:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 25:35 am. I've laid here long enough not falling back asleep so I finally glance at the clock. 9.5 hours of sleep. Not terrible. <div>
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<div>
6:00 am. I'm heading downstairs to look for a nice ocean front view for my meditation. I silence my usual background noise (rainfall) on my meditation timer and listen to the crashing waves instead. </div>
<div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgItBrAc9_4b8yGrdc3KkLiQRqG8ct1hFVqdSUV0oVv2FsfTWcHxPeLt51PZySxQ25nVuqeNRwsQ0FC1FRrCCkaBoET0tDR-Te9e6bqxUT8X0keRPLiroQn-7HxtYauLnnnfm6N6azSX7U/s1600/20181102_063435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgItBrAc9_4b8yGrdc3KkLiQRqG8ct1hFVqdSUV0oVv2FsfTWcHxPeLt51PZySxQ25nVuqeNRwsQ0FC1FRrCCkaBoET0tDR-Te9e6bqxUT8X0keRPLiroQn-7HxtYauLnnnfm6N6azSX7U/s320/20181102_063435.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meditation spot.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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6:36 am. I grab a cup of coffee in the lobby before heading back upstairs to get ready for the day. </div>
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<div>
8:26 am. Fielding questions... "Can I ask what you're so stressed out about?" Clearly I'm not hiding the fact that I'm in a shitty mood. I woke up with a headache because all the pillows are feather and I'm allergic. And even though I said we didn't need to set an alarm, starting a bike ride at 9 am is SO NOT ME. It feels ridiculously late. And now we're not going to get a break before we go swim. </div>
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<div>
8:32 am. OK, confession time. I'm so glad Hillary put this ride on my schedule today because I've been dreading it from the moment we drove the course 3 weeks ago. I never ride anywhere that doesn't have a bike lane. Ever. Like, seriously NEVER. And there are even some bike lanes that I won't ride in because they aren't up to my safety standards. And there are stretches of this course with no shoulder whatsoever. And yes, it's a one lane road around an island, but half the people are tourists, and the other half hate tourists, and we fall somewhere in between. This is not inside my comfort zone. And it stresses me out. So there.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd1Tm7YYJlwtoJazk4DUsJitU7uM6Yogmi-8YkSrURj6WWiceGL_BQW6rEK2ttO5pyKdDgVO56mjFITEydSoqe2huigmQWaUof_j4n3DJBmOzNrmbHkp38o7xLVooJpt927bPBx9APBj4/s1600/20181102_104625.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd1Tm7YYJlwtoJazk4DUsJitU7uM6Yogmi-8YkSrURj6WWiceGL_BQW6rEK2ttO5pyKdDgVO56mjFITEydSoqe2huigmQWaUof_j4n3DJBmOzNrmbHkp38o7xLVooJpt927bPBx9APBj4/s320/20181102_104625.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From where I ride.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
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<div>
8:46 am. We roll. </div>
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9:05 am. At this pace it's going to take me 7 hours to get to the turn around point. </div>
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9:20 am. How can I be sweating this much? OMG I FORGOT TO PUT SUNSCREEN ON MY FACE! HOW COULD I BE SO STUPID?? I'M GOING TO BURN!!!!</div>
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9:45 am. We stop at the first gas station for sunscreen and Gatorade. Skin cancer averted. </div>
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10:30 am. I'm dying.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH6Wc-IRcO1TIbDa6rF4YsToEsHggVWgR61wg1K8OSty5fjYo8MTCdFnqwWndsXkI5xD0jHQAby5_0JREK7gtyoxOonhMqd8QPa5MtxBsZGzKiCXtjdeC4uuhXVHMKpTQZyAZAeg8y0zk/s1600/20181102_104613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH6Wc-IRcO1TIbDa6rF4YsToEsHggVWgR61wg1K8OSty5fjYo8MTCdFnqwWndsXkI5xD0jHQAby5_0JREK7gtyoxOonhMqd8QPa5MtxBsZGzKiCXtjdeC4uuhXVHMKpTQZyAZAeg8y0zk/s320/20181102_104613.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where the lava scorched the earth.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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10: 54 am. Everything hurts and I'm dying.</div>
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11:30 am. Sheesh, where did this wind come from?? Holy hell.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlU8teOhoTB2LLqO82Ev4xLWoGb-ygyoJPb8882P1nm21fZ3SjvkbU_JiphO-o9BpdiBuPLJWM7qjh5qtBZ4AUD0yDN463qTi0vCrHgJTk9zfwIpAjKpNx99_IknkyXvuaFkCXDxQImM/s1600/20181102_115742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlU8teOhoTB2LLqO82Ev4xLWoGb-ygyoJPb8882P1nm21fZ3SjvkbU_JiphO-o9BpdiBuPLJWM7qjh5qtBZ4AUD0yDN463qTi0vCrHgJTk9zfwIpAjKpNx99_IknkyXvuaFkCXDxQImM/s320/20181102_115742.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turn around point.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div>
12:10 pm. I sit on the concrete outside the market waiting for my banana, coke and water. </div>
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<div>
12:30 pm. We are rolling again. Heading back toward town. Why do we have a headwind??? I thought it was going to be faster on the way back???</div>
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<div>
1:10 pm. Why is there a buffalo looking at me? Surely they are not native species to the island??</div>
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<div>
2:30 pm. OK, this WV loop is not as bad as I was thinking. There sure is a lot of traffic. But I'm spinning up pretty comfortably. Maybe I'm not dying. </div>
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<div>
2:55 pm. Just kidding. I'm for sure dying. Where is the stop light? </div>
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2:58 pm. WHERE IS THE STOP LIGHT??</div>
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<div>
3:04 pm. FINALLY. Descending back to town.</div>
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<div>
3:30 pm. We load shit back into the van and head back to the hotel for a quick pit stop. I eat papaya with granola. Slam a Big Sky soda. And polish off the bag of sea salt potato chips from earlier. </div>
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<div>
4:41 pm. I jump into the pool to start my recovery swim. </div>
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<div>
5:32 pm. I finish swimming. How the hell did it get to be so late?? And other than my 20 minute meditation this morning - there has been ZERO relaxation time. This is so not sustainable. We're not going to be able to continue this "sleeping in" and not setting an alarm gig. </div>
<div>
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<div>
5:56 pm. We hit up Target for a few more food essentials (bananas, avocados, honey, etc). </div>
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<div>
6:36 pm. Do you want Thai food or Mexican? Mexican? Habeneros it is. I google places to swim as we drive because I have a 10k swim tomorrow and the Kona Aquatic Center is closed for a swim meet. We've looked at this place a dozen times. It's actually pretty good. And it's quick which is even better because I'm ready for bed. </div>
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8:07 pm. I'm off to bed.</div>
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FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-31461474532408230402018-11-01T23:09:00.000-07:002018-11-01T23:09:19.687-07:00Diary of an Ultraman: Day 1A couple of years ago my friend Kelly spent a month in Hawaii between the 70.3 worlds in Australia and the Ironman World Championship. She did a running diary on her blog-- and I loved it. I ate up every word, every experience, every challenge, every tear, every breakthrough. And of course I loved racing alongside her on that fateful Saturday in October where she destroyed her last race as an amateur athlete.<br />
<br />
I thought it would be fun to try to recreate what she shared in hopes that I can include anyone who wants to travel this road to Ultraman Worlds with me. I'm not going to speculate but there are likely to be some highs and some lows along the way.... which always makes for good reading.<br />
<br />
So a little background...<br />
<br />
By racing Ultraman Australia 2017, I qualified for the World Championships-- which just means that I can apply and actually have a chance of being invited. Lucky for me, I WAS invited. Preparing for OZ was a 6 month process and I felt completely ready. Ready for the distance. Ready for any challenge thrown my way. Mentally ready. Physically beyond ready. I. Was. Ready. <br />
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This time around... I wasn't feeling so ready. I'm not sure if it was because I was out of training for 8 weeks last spring, and pursued my goal of qualifying for Ironman World Championships anyway? But I feel like my training has been, well, delayed, for lack of a better word. The workouts I should have been doing in August and September, I'm looking at tackling this week. <br />
<br />
After the new Ultraman bike course was announced I messaged Hillary and said, "we need a Mt. Lemmon double STAT!!" The Mt. Lemmon double was one of my key bike workouts before UMOZ, and ironically the climb mimics the climb we have in the early part of day 2 in Hawaii. But we had to wait until after IM Hawaii to tackle this beast as we didn't want to go into that race overly beat up... and well, there just wasn't a lot of time on my calendar to fit it in.<br />
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Last weekend I headed down to Tucson after work on Saturday. I refused to set my alarm any earlier than 4 am, which put me on the mountain just after 5 am on Sunday morning. For almost 3 hours, I didn't see another person. And I got to see an amazing sunrise... but that's beside the point. The point is, I went into the ride with a calmness that comes from having no expectations. I knew exactly what lay ahead. I knew how difficult it could be mentally, and physically. And I legitimately thought there was a chance I could fail. I would just reach a point where I couldn't go any further. Certainly there would be tears, I thought, as there were in 2017 when I pulled over to the visitor center in Palisades and cried on the curb for 20 minutes. <br />
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But actually... it was fine. There were never any highs (other than the sunrise!) and there were never any lows. I rode from Le Buzz, to the Cookie Cabin, back down to the base of the mountain (mile 0 as we call it), back to the Cookie Cabin, and then back to Le Buzz. And other than a couple of stops to pee and refill water I just kept pedaling. And I rode 10 miles farther, and 90 minutes faster than 18 months ago. Whoa. Wait... what? <br />
<br />
Dude. I am fit. I can do this. This Lemmon double was exactly what I needed 4 days before boarding the plane to Hawaii to know that this dream CAN become reality. I am no longer afraid of what lies ahead. I know it will be challenging. I wouldn't have applied for it if it wasn't. But I believe this is a challenge I am up for.<br />
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So with Girl Scout Cookies in tow to help me get through day 2, and #alltheluggage, I landed in Kona this afternoon. From now until the 28th when I board the plane to head home, I'll share some snip-its of my days on the island as I prepare for this challenge!<br />
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<b><u>Day 1 </u></b>(which also happens to be November 1, which is really great because I don't have to remember what day I'm on!!):<br />
<br />
3:20 pm. I've been awake for over 12 hours now. We finally got all of the luggage up to the room and I've tossed a few things into the dresser while searching for my running clothes. I need to head out for my second run of the day, and I better do it now while I still feel somewhat awake and even remotely motivated to do it. <br />
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3:30 pm. I eat a couple pieces of prickly pear licorice that I bought in the Phoenix Airport on the elevator ride to the lobby. I step out of the air conditioning and am enveloped in thick, warm air. I put my airpod into my left ear, turn on a podcast, and start jogging down Ali'i drive away from town. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdaVSpxOwFxBGaIUj2zphR89fZ6nkPNq3WdFb7rVuh9N92hkDdHHrC3bOO1IiWhZPUzou5EODtThiTrv_CZgKyKi5xYr1s-onVhU2_Dc_C-gkWUu-IZyJvk9PuIP8gizYHXtUC9ZvnXU/s1600/20181101_161033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdaVSpxOwFxBGaIUj2zphR89fZ6nkPNq3WdFb7rVuh9N92hkDdHHrC3bOO1IiWhZPUzou5EODtThiTrv_CZgKyKi5xYr1s-onVhU2_Dc_C-gkWUu-IZyJvk9PuIP8gizYHXtUC9ZvnXU/s320/20181101_161033.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From where I run.</td></tr>
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4:40 pm. Back in my room and I can't stop sweating. I sit for a few minutes trying to dry off and eventually give up and start building my bike. When that's finished I unpack a few things and try to get stuff situated. This is my home base for the first 2 weeks and I need to not live in chaos. At some point I realize it's getting late, and my body thinks it's even later, and I better go get dinner before I fall asleep.<br />
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5:55 pm. We eat a spicy-sweet Asian inspired chicken dish with rice and veggies while sipping sleepily on a Red at the Kona Brewery. Thankfully service is quick and we're out within an hour and I feel inspired to make a quick stop at the natural grocer for a few things that we can live on in our hotel room. We have a Nutri-bullet to make smoothies, a rice cooker (both of which we brought from home), a mini-fridge and we were able to get a microwave brought to our room. Oh, and a coffee pot (praise Jesus). So eating is going to be creative. Canned tuna over rice with steamed spinach, and avocado. Frozen Amy's burritos. Oatmeal (thank you Picky Bar!!). <br />
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7:58 pm. It's basically 11 pm, and I'm basically falling asleep. I nearly laughed out loud when we were discussing what time we should ride tomorrow... and I realized that we literally have NOTHING to do besides train. So I do not need to set an alarm. I don't have to rush off to work. I have zero responsibility (ok, maybe not zero, but you know, way less...) other than a bike ride and a swim. So I'm going to leave you with this amazing pic from my run earlier. And bid you good night. <br />
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Aloha.FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-65150424069652735262018-10-01T18:01:00.000-07:002018-10-01T18:01:21.986-07:00Strength Within Pain: Finding Aloha in H2H4:30 pm, day 3. "We need to talk." I make my way down from another one of many false summits on top of Mt. Humphrey. Hiking with 2 others, we had made it to what we thought was the summit, only to realize we had at least another 3/4 mile and another false summit to go before the peak. The sun was sinking low in the sky, and we had less than 2 hours remaining before blackness set in. We needed to be below the saddle, and currently we were standing precariously on a ridge 1.25 miles above it. After months of preparation, and 44 hours on the trail thus far, it came down to this moment. (mile 92.25)<br />
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*****<br />
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11:35 pm, day 1. We cross the Black Bridge and traipse down the steps onto the sandy trail that will take us to the Boat Beach. Where our journey will officially begin. I stop cold in my tracks. "Oh! Wow." I am rendered speechless by the million diamonds sparkling on the surface of the Colorado River under the full moon. We stop and turn off our headlamps and just stand there for a moment taking it all in.<br />
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We continue down the path and follow the signs to the Boat Beach, which requires a little bit of bushwhacking. I secretly hope that H is not allergic to any of these plants as there's no way to NOT touch them. Safely onto the wet sand, I glance at my watch. 11:45 pm. We left the rim 3 hours ago and are already in a sleep deprived haze. We sit down and again flip off our headlamps allowing our eyes to adjust to the darkness. As our eyes adapt, the stars become visible in the dark sky overhead and we tilt our heads back to take in the view. I close my eyes and breathe in the enormity of it all. The grueling task ahead. The miles. The climbs. The hours upon hours of training that have been completed in preparation for this one moment. The uncertainty. The water continues its course, rippling across the rocks, carrying away our anxiety and anticipation.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinMtySBC5jGLa7yklh8T_IdAP-Fet9RGfO0rUSu-8vAUklMh_4bMTnYpkdXV9QmHB-IRyJBHnjTnyhsfXsYwC7LIl914OszgSSTj_fuwKHWe2JjnPUwbg_yjY23lo58Sidqwyl5HWVoYE/s1600/20180920_235559.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinMtySBC5jGLa7yklh8T_IdAP-Fet9RGfO0rUSu-8vAUklMh_4bMTnYpkdXV9QmHB-IRyJBHnjTnyhsfXsYwC7LIl914OszgSSTj_fuwKHWe2JjnPUwbg_yjY23lo58Sidqwyl5HWVoYE/s320/20180920_235559.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dipping our poles in the Colorado River.</td></tr>
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11:55 pm, day 1. Unceremoniously, we stand. With the tips of our poles together in the water, I snap a photo. Proof that we made it to the river. We take a deep breath, flip on our lights, and head back up the trail the way we came. (mile 7)<br />
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*****<br />
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8:30 pm, day 1. It started with a text message. "I have this idea..."<br />
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Of course, I was instantly on board because the crazier the idea, the more I seem to like it. My best friend had heard of this thing called Hole to Hump (H2H). An underground adventure of sorts. A hike from the bottom of the Grand Canyon to the top of Mt. Humphrey. 100 miles roughly, depending on the route you took. There was no guidebook, no official race, no support... you have to just make it up as you go along. No medals, no aid stations. Just you and whatever support crew you manage to scrap together.<br />
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Almost a year later we found ourselves standing at the South Kaibab Trailhead ready to head into the depths of the canyon in the dark of night. Months and months of preparation. Scouting the route, documenting forest roads and trails and figuring out where you could drive a vehicle in to meet for support. Miles upon miles walked and run in training. Nutrition prep... trial and error and figuring out what works to fuel someone for 48 hours while moving through the high desert. They say the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. I guess this is the beginning of that journey. (mile 0)<br />
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*****<br />
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4:45 am, day 2: One hour faster than our recon adventure, we exited the canyon via South Kaibab and continued down the paved road toward the picnic area where the crew would be waiting. The full moon continued to shine brightly overhead and with sunrise still hours away, we walked along the solid yellow line in the center of the road with no aid from our headlamps. We beat our crew to the picnic area and I blanketed H in my puffy jacket, gloves and hat to avoid getting overly chilled as we waited. Once they arrived H quickly changed clothes and shoes and trotted off down the road toward the first forest road. I would head back to the hotel to shower and change and meet for the next crew exchange. (mile 8)<br />
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*****<br />
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4:40 pm, day 3. We take a moment on the ridge and let H cry. There is no other way to respond to this. 44 hours into this adventure and it comes down to 3/4 of a mile. Do we keep going, knowing full well that we won't be below the saddle before dark? Or do we call it a day, and turn back with enough time to make it safely below the treeline? Every summit expedition has a hard turn around time, and we've reached mine. H is very shaky now, and navigating above the saddle has proven very challenging. The rocks are loose and with every step gravel is sent cascading off the ridge to an unknown resting spot far below. (mile 92.25)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiw8OL0d2j57LDVlpygvawls0Lquwf5LEqO_ptTo87dl2sVCn2_X4fOXjfmB0MtQlz6jquMYsVue_7YZMBUX-Mqb8eQr7MsV1aOb4K5jgzrFXlXg7Hv45EJ9QpPyxIe0EeEvmBJrusIYE/s1600/20180922_170136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiw8OL0d2j57LDVlpygvawls0Lquwf5LEqO_ptTo87dl2sVCn2_X4fOXjfmB0MtQlz6jquMYsVue_7YZMBUX-Mqb8eQr7MsV1aOb4K5jgzrFXlXg7Hv45EJ9QpPyxIe0EeEvmBJrusIYE/s320/20180922_170136.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Descending from our false summit.</td></tr>
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*****<br />
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7:07 am, day 2. I pick up Kevin, and Bruce takes over sherpa duties on the mountain bike, with Tracy leapfrogging in the car for nutrition support. We zipped back to the village where we ate breakfast and packed up the hotel room. We had a break now for most of the day and would meet the crew at the intersection of the AZT. Sean and Rachel would be on course around lunchtime to feed H and take over sherpa duties. (mile 24)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh43VIiN0mpSl-ELGSr8aHMuPjR0r2N1W2rnbfbKsSJXPnGUbxHJ60qYaBDZGdINOhOhw2kMU94w8d-g5-Ja3bqNKZ5dAfa9XprH7FBzjSVLSBo3FYjKhECm_OBEFvLLOeoxyQmbg8IJ7U/s1600/IMG_0965.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh43VIiN0mpSl-ELGSr8aHMuPjR0r2N1W2rnbfbKsSJXPnGUbxHJ60qYaBDZGdINOhOhw2kMU94w8d-g5-Ja3bqNKZ5dAfa9XprH7FBzjSVLSBo3FYjKhECm_OBEFvLLOeoxyQmbg8IJ7U/s320/IMG_0965.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rachel pacing with H in the heat of the day.</td></tr>
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3:46 pm, day 2. It heated up quickly and it was difficult to find rest in the car as the sun beat down overhead and flies buzzed in and out of our open windows. At some point as the sun began dropping lower in the sky we decided to back track and find the crew on the forest road. We gave a little moral support, and warmed up some broth for hydration. We gauged how long it would take her to cover the remaining miles to where the car would be parked. And as night fell, I set up the air mattress on the ground outside the car and snuggled into my sleeping bag. At some point in my sleepy haze I hear my best friend say something about spooning as she crawls into a sleeping bag of her own and joins me on the mattress for a brief nap. (mile 54-63)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCz-n5jxYDCwEaWPgHVCUhJx5s3o8WbBD_0DNhICgvOfv2UhBBbl6S0fB8SW_EmfWDA74Lv8jUCu0vZONKJ5kIWldobIDsdpG07Gcr8eTgmw000qh0aubVauIafj_a_3DcmF4VFFaw2gs/s1600/IMG952449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCz-n5jxYDCwEaWPgHVCUhJx5s3o8WbBD_0DNhICgvOfv2UhBBbl6S0fB8SW_EmfWDA74Lv8jUCu0vZONKJ5kIWldobIDsdpG07Gcr8eTgmw000qh0aubVauIafj_a_3DcmF4VFFaw2gs/s320/IMG952449.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cooling off!</td></tr>
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*****<br />
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11 pm, day 2. Kevin and Jan take over for the second night shift. A 13 mile stretch along the Arizona Trail. The rest of the crew did some quick rearrangements and we divided into 2 groups- one group would leap ahead and sleep in a cabin at the base of Mt. Humphrey. The second group would leap ahead to a forest road that intersects the AZT and try to catch some sleep before the next pacing section. (mile 63)<br />
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2:30 am, day 3. I was in the group heading to the AZT. We slept, uncomfortably, in the car off and on for several hours. Eventually my alarm went off and I got up to get my gear ready for the next shift. Once ready, I tossed a camping mat onto the ground outside the car and climbed into my sleeping bag and fell into a heavy sleep. I gasped a couple of hours later when Jan startled me awake. In my hazy fog I tried to process where I was and get my wits about me for the upcoming stretch. (mile 76)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL1pG42O9G0VfycXJKt5MXAafRuz0Cq_3fv7MeXtRHf0QJxiOR-zN7wWx3yWalso2Gk61RjRNsGsUImQwbT6jSu5yZeh1WnuaxfsRjsC4HCthEHkU5bG3rxpmIziBknztN-faFVnLMN-g/s1600/20180922_060602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL1pG42O9G0VfycXJKt5MXAafRuz0Cq_3fv7MeXtRHf0QJxiOR-zN7wWx3yWalso2Gk61RjRNsGsUImQwbT6jSu5yZeh1WnuaxfsRjsC4HCthEHkU5bG3rxpmIziBknztN-faFVnLMN-g/s320/20180922_060602.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brief 20 min nap.</td></tr>
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*****<br />
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12 pm, day 3. We were 4.5 hours behind schedule when we left mile 75, and we lost another hour by the time we reached the parking lot at SnowBowl. The stretch along the AZT was strikingly beautiful. Aspen trees. Evergreens. Wildflowers. Pristine single track trail. I was more than happy to spend a day hiking these trails, but I worried as we neared the base of the climb what was ahead. Kevin had already expressed his concern about her making the climb in her sleep deprived state. Her feet were in bad shape and she was exhausted.<br />
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Fresh blood in the way of new team members met us in the parking lot. Three men who were prepared to take H the rest of the way. I gave her less than 45 minutes to take care of blisters, eat a real meal, rest, and roll out tight muscles. (mile 87)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWLC_9J-hoO4gPvoztdt35LrCOmP7pwZiCkUAHbEQ9OdPMrQqmuwPNHgbeHy3kA9CPgLN4noyOk0Tzz61YBDlNFUbYmatJ2ue9E85qLUcNT0iwsNJz_M2Kd1W_jjMov3TdubmTwTCiJ7M/s1600/20180922_122406.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWLC_9J-hoO4gPvoztdt35LrCOmP7pwZiCkUAHbEQ9OdPMrQqmuwPNHgbeHy3kA9CPgLN4noyOk0Tzz61YBDlNFUbYmatJ2ue9E85qLUcNT0iwsNJz_M2Kd1W_jjMov3TdubmTwTCiJ7M/s320/20180922_122406.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foot care.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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*****<br />
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1 pm, day 3. After a quick group photo, the crew is on the final ascent of Mt. Humphrey. I decide to hang back and help clean up camp before hitting the trail to catch them. I figure I can easily give them 30-45 minutes lead and still catch them well before the saddle. The cars are a mess. Gear and clothing and trash strewn everywhere. I help Rachel gather up the trash and sort out which gear needs to go where to make room for everyone to ride back to Sedona when we're finished. It's going to be dark when we get back so I'd rather have it all set up now while we can see.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqcuCRn2wExhcnxW91IYLuSsg2u2S1Tv7nC6AlzjyClOFoHYNZXXnjMvqFd3QxMvNqRm-yuN-dbSewXjIYC0FBm3JN-A8pWYdejzXscF-FlbTl5b-vyymWuHqDkA8KrBW3cAn09qK0SUQ/s1600/20180922_125721.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqcuCRn2wExhcnxW91IYLuSsg2u2S1Tv7nC6AlzjyClOFoHYNZXXnjMvqFd3QxMvNqRm-yuN-dbSewXjIYC0FBm3JN-A8pWYdejzXscF-FlbTl5b-vyymWuHqDkA8KrBW3cAn09qK0SUQ/s320/20180922_125721.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready for the final climb.</td></tr>
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1:30 pm, day 3. I take off up the trail. Power hiking at an 18 min per mile pace. A quick pace that wakes me up and get the blood moving through my body. By mile 2 I can hear the group ahead of me, above me on the switchbacks. I catch them by mile 2.25 and snag some video of H as she traipses past me, over half way to the saddle. She's smiling and looks remarkably good for this point in the journey. (mile 89.25)<br />
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*****<br />
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5:45 pm, day 3. We stop on the saddle and take photos. It's not for nothing. H raised over $5000 for the 100 Club, for Fallen Officers. And when the day is finished she will have hiked nearly 100 miles. Nearly isn't what we came for. And we know that. The mood is somber, but hopeful. You don't endure something like this and not come away a different person. Each of us learned something about ourselves. About the limits of human endurance. About the human spirit. We are bonded together, with stories and memories that won't be understood by outsiders. (mile 93.5)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiABpQOylQlV_zfW0JVUdgB23hyD69KR9XDVvyPs0vMpdtsp7eOYJ6jWpyljgl9jPk6yXmB9LK5mQJv7LclIEIxLe6euMtezl4ZPoHkpoYSO1jmpkSSulghGUxacbcPxEkD57fyYPQdEEY/s1600/20180922_173426.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiABpQOylQlV_zfW0JVUdgB23hyD69KR9XDVvyPs0vMpdtsp7eOYJ6jWpyljgl9jPk6yXmB9LK5mQJv7LclIEIxLe6euMtezl4ZPoHkpoYSO1jmpkSSulghGUxacbcPxEkD57fyYPQdEEY/s320/20180922_173426.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was meant for the summit: Tribute to fallen officers.</td></tr>
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*****<br />
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8:05 pm, day 3. Karl and I step out of the woods into the meadow. Our headlamps reflect the eyes of a dozen deer grazing nearby. We had scooted off the saddle into the woods and in a matter of minutes we were a mile down the trail. Karl's intuition brought us to a halt and we waited for Kevin, Bruce and H to catch up. They had stopped to wrap her ankle as she was having trouble managing the boulder scrambling and rock jumping that define the lower trail. Once we were certain she was OK, we practically ran down the trail the final 3 miles. We chatted the time away waiting for the trees to give way to open sky. When we reached the car, I looked at my watch and said, "they'll be here in 90 minutes. It was 815 pm. We shared a beer and wrapped ourselves in blankets waiting for everyone else to appear.<br />
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9:45 pm, day 3. Headlamps appear in the distance. "That's them," I proclaim. They make their way across the meadow and H collapses into the camp chair we have waiting. We pull her shoes off. After only a few moments we load her into the front seat of the Xterra and head down the mountain toward Flagstaff, toward the highway, toward home. It's over. With as little fanfare as when it all began 50 hours ago. (mile 97.5)<br />
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*****<br />
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3:24 pm, day 6 post. "I'll never tell B, but I want to try again." And just like that, the journey begins again.... (mile 0)<br />
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<br />FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-7915577454809324752018-05-30T14:15:00.000-07:002018-05-30T14:15:19.343-07:00Mantras: Finding Aloha Inside My Head<i>**The following was written for the Smashfest Diaries. You can check out more from the Smash-Dimond Women's Team <a href="https://www.smashfestqueen.com/blogs/smashfest-diaries" target="_blank">HERE</a>.** </i><br />
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<i>A thought, behind speech or action. </i><br />
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<i>A word or sound repeated to aid in concentration of the mind.</i><br />
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<i>A statement or slogan repeated frequently.</i><br />
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I'm talking about mantras. Useful little phrases that can turn your world around in an instant.<br />
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I've been using mantras since I started in sport back in 2000. When things get tough in training or during a race I often had a phrase that I would repeat to keep my mind positive and my body moving forward. Since my High Vibe Retreat in October, where I first learned about meditation, I now also use mantras when I sit in mediation, to focus on what I want to create in my life.<br />
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Inhale joy and contentment. Exhale fear and doubt.</span></i></b></blockquote>
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So what does this look like in practice? How does one start to use mantras in every day life? Here are some of my favorite mantras for swimming, biking, running... and sitting!<br />
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When I swim I count. I count backwards by length. So if I have a set of, say, 6 x 150 (36 lengths), I will count backwards from 36. In my head every time my right hand enters the water my mind repeats the number. 36. 36. 36. 36. 36. And so on until I flip, and then it goes to 35, and so on. The repetition does several things for me. 1. It keeps my mind focused and I don't lose track of where I'm at. 2. It doesn't allow my mind to drown in thoughts motivated by fear/ anxiety. The mind is an amazing tool and it's pretty incredible how many thoughts you can actually indulge in a few seconds. But if I'm counting it's much more difficult to be distracted by thoughts of <i>OMG I'm dying! I am never going to make this interval!</i> And so on.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXkHS8BxQL4iCFYYCPQ8Af2j9O6N8SNtaZGtEYDRbv04Xp9T2qQ6CymyYhzxPlvZzFUR226m3OZBzCfWyps2ECeJVHCaw2bzgPuez9Ia067ysDeNXxevjdTj7YpENzX0z5pG3AoxuX7Cs/s1600/170513EWOImages_N4A97490744.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1003" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXkHS8BxQL4iCFYYCPQ8Af2j9O6N8SNtaZGtEYDRbv04Xp9T2qQ6CymyYhzxPlvZzFUR226m3OZBzCfWyps2ECeJVHCaw2bzgPuez9Ia067ysDeNXxevjdTj7YpENzX0z5pG3AoxuX7Cs/s320/170513EWOImages_N4A97490744.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit: Eyes Wide Open Images</td></tr>
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If I do need a little something extra when swimming I like the following phrases, or <i><b>mantras</b></i>:<br />
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<i>Relaxed and strong.</i> When I'm going after it in a hard set, but feeling good, this phrase helps me to remember how to get the best out of myself, instead of fighting the water and trying to muscle my way through it.<br />
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<i>I'm fine. I'm fine, right now, I'm fine. </i> When I'm dying and on the verge of failing a workout, I use this phrase (borrowed from Jess of YogiTriathlete), to remind myself that at this very second I am alive, and I am breathing and I am... fine. I may fail the workout, and that happens sometimes, but I am in fact, fine. This calms the mind and prevents full blown panic. And 9 times out of 10, I don't fail the workout and I'm still... just fine.<br />
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As you can probably imagine, there is a lot more time on the bike for the mind to wander. Ironically, my mind doesn't tend to go too crazy with long, solo hours in the saddle. Often I sing to myself. Always the same song (no idea why). Anna Nalick's Breathe. Totally random I know. And not really a mantra, but it does fit the category of repetitive sound. I will occasionally employ the usual "I'm fine" or "I am strong" when needed to power through some tough intervals.<br />
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">I'm fine. I'm fine, right now, I'm fine.</span></i></b></blockquote>
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The bike is a place where mindfulness is key. Ironman bike rides are somewhere in the ballpark of 5-6 hours. That's a lot of time to mess things up if you're not paying attention. I am constantly in the moment and asking myself, "what do I need now?" Sometimes the answer is calories. Sometimes water. Sometimes nothing at all, but at least I know that in that moment all is fine in the world. If I don't stay focused, inevitably I'll be 3 hours down the road, I will suddenly become super negative and then it will dawn on me that I haven't eaten nearly enough.<br />
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Similar to the bike, the run is a good chunk of time. If I've trained well and execute my nutrition perfectly, I can hold race pace without too much stress and like to remain focused on "what do I need now?" When things go south, as they sometimes do, I try to focus on things that I can control. Like my cadence. My coach told me once that my run pace is very much tied to my cadence, and for some reason this has stuck with me. I never noticed it before she pointed it out but it's true. I normally have a decently high cadence and if I keep my feet moving quickly, my pace will be a bit quicker. When I hit the wall and start to drag my legs through the run stroke, my pace suffers. If I can remind myself <i>"quick feet, quick feet, quick feet"</i> then I can fight off the decline a little bit.<br />
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I also bring back <i>"relaxed and strong"</i> from the swim. Relaxing my shoulders, smiling (relaxing the face!) and remembering how strong my body is helps me to get through rough spots in the run.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Relaxed and strong.</i></b></span></blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLgDG4-aTaHnxYHPtas7tkpHpl1VCr7tQu9_-AVaXQAUkAZC-2qMV1vqzhEZ3g15FUe_eeOUmYbP16jqesQdgGRayDD-LCnVg4AlukGsFCQfpCWNLMoN4XBVAn9O94YUw0sLKIcfZhvU/s1600/IMG_3303.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLgDG4-aTaHnxYHPtas7tkpHpl1VCr7tQu9_-AVaXQAUkAZC-2qMV1vqzhEZ3g15FUe_eeOUmYbP16jqesQdgGRayDD-LCnVg4AlukGsFCQfpCWNLMoN4XBVAn9O94YUw0sLKIcfZhvU/s320/IMG_3303.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meditation session with Jess of YogiTriathlete.</td></tr>
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When I sit in meditation my mantra since October has been <b><i>"inhale joy and contentment, exhale fear and doubt"</i></b>. This phrase came out of my first one on one session with my meditation teacher, and has worked so well for me. It helps me to work through fears -- fear of being hit by a car, fear of failure, etc-- and replace those thoughts with ones of joy in all things.<br />
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I think sitting in meditation and learning to recognize thoughts (without judgement) has been super helpful in training and racing. I have learned to see the thoughts as they arise in my mind, and without indulging in them ("<i>this feels terrible</i>" can lead to a pity party very quickly!), letting those thoughts go. Sometimes I will even say to myself, <i>this is not my thought</i>. Or <i>this is not my energy</i>. This is particularly helpful in a triathlon setting where the panicked energy is palpable before a swim start, or when everyone is freaking out on the forum about a course change. That energy is not my energy, and though I can recognize those thoughts, they are not mine. I am free to move forward with calmness-- a winning feat in any athletic pursuit!<br />
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Your mind is your strongest tool (I know, you thought it was your legs!). Why not maximize your ability by indulging in some positive self- talk?<br />
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<br />FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2714894366254818439.post-89245287718127742792018-04-17T19:10:00.003-07:002018-04-17T19:10:46.411-07:00Acceptance: Finding Aloha in Grief<i><b>Me: </b> There's a 90 year old guy checking me out. I'm pretty sure he's jealous of my donut pillow. </i><br />
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<i><b>The BFF:</b> He's jealous because you look so young for 80. </i><br />
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I was fully in denial. I arrived at camp with my bike on the back of my car because I'm wasn't willing to let go just yet. It sat in the casita while my teammates rode all of my favorite routes, laughing, and bonding over the suffering.<br />
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There's also been anger, bargaining, and a more than a few moments of complete despair, or depression, if you want to use the correct terminology for the stages of grief. I cried on the phone as the doctor read my MRI results. (depression) <i>It doesn't hurt. Please can I ride my bike? And I can run, right? </i>I pleaded with him over text message later that day. (denial) <i>OK no running or biking, but what about hiking? I can hike right? </i>(bargaining)<br />
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And then, finally, my last text message to him... <i>I need a letter from my physician stating why I can't race Ironman, for the insurance company. Can you email that to me?</i> (acceptance) <br />
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Acute, traumatic fracture of the sacrum at S4-S5. That's my official diagnosis. The trauma had nothing to do with swim, bike or run... nothing to do with training or over training... Once it's healed here in another couple of weeks, I can get back to the business at hand. Not like a stress fracture or a soft tissue injury. <br />
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It was a tough decision to not race Oceanside. Knowing what I know now, I'm glad I didn't. The nerves that come off the spinal cord and travel through the S4-S5 region control bladder and bowel function. I don't think I need to explain the repercussions if I fuck up recovery. I still rode my bike and ran that weekend. Monday morning after the race we drove home and that evening I went in for the MRI. In fact the morning I got my results I rode my bike for 90 minutes with intervals, and ran 5 miles at race pace. My doctor called me 2 hours after I finished. I just couldn't believe that it was even possible that there was a fracture. I only had the MRI because Hillary insisted. <br />
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And I guess I wasn't going to say anything, because there's nothing TO say. But there are a couple of reasons why I decided to: <br />
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1. Because everyone is asking. Living in my own little world, no one notices what I'm doing. No one cares. But when you proclaim that you're going to defend your title at a race and then suddenly don't show up on the start line, people start wondering... and asking. I've basically just ignored every inquiry, mostly because I just don't feel like talking about it. But sometimes, the stories that people are willing to make up are so much worse than the actual truth. So I wanted to put the truth out there so no one feels the need to make shit up. <br />
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2. Because I am 100% fine. I'm not in pain. I can still work. I can still swim (with open turns), and walk, and even do a bit of strength training (with some limitations). I believe that everything resolves to good. And no matter how disappointed I am that I don't get to race Texas or Santa Rosa, I know in my heart that something good will come out of this. Something better. Why this happened to me, I may never know. But it's not my right <i>to</i> know. For whatever reason, the universe decided that I needed healing and presented that opportunity to me. I am taking my recovery seriously-- like it's my full time job. <br />
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3. Because I want my athletes to see this and know that life happens, moment by moment, and we improvise, adapt and overcome. Sometimes it's injury. Sometimes work gets in the way of training. Sometimes it's a family member and you drop everything to be with them in their time if need. Triathlon is a hobby, and a passion, and a lifeline for a lot of us. It helps us make friends as adults, and relieve stress from real life, and burn a few extra calories from the beer we like to enjoy at dinner. But if you can't be flexible, and change the plans when you need to, you will drive the enjoyment right out of the sport and it'll die a slow and painful death. And I intend to be in this sport for the rest of my life, so 6-8 weeks to heal is a mere pine needle on the trail I'm walking. <br />
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I called Hillary with my MRI results an hour before I was supposed to drive to Tucson for a long weekend training camp. <i>Come to camp</i>, she said. <i>It will be good for you to be around your teammates.</i> And she was right. It was good to be around people that were in good spirits and hang out and talk to friends I don't see often. I met one of my athletes from the East coast who has given me so much joy in my coaching job over the last 6 months. And she made me laugh every single day. I got to watch her grow in courage and confidence over the 5 days. And I got to witness another athlete, who had previously struggled with self esteem, tackle workouts with grace and confidence and strength. So even if I wasn't riding or running next to them, I was still in the presence of greatness.<br />
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I walked a lot. I joined in on swim workouts. And I sat back as an observer and watched my teammates work hard. Giving more when they thought the tank was empty. And my passion grew. My desire grew. My willingness to work hard for my dreams grew. With every step they took. <br />
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I am pulling out of Texas and Santa Rosa. God-willing, I will be on the start line in Boulder, not racing, but using it as a long training day. And I am planning a late summer Ironman as the new start to my racing season. <br />
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I am grateful that my best friend is on speed dial and she doesn't let me wallow in my shit. She makes me laugh and reminds me that I'm 40 going on 80, and that things could be so. much. worse. And she's already agreed to join me on my next adventure...<br />
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I got to walk along a 9 mile section of the Arizona Trail last weekend while everyone was running. It was so amazingly beautiful. I stopped to take pictures of all the flowers blooming and the changing landscapes as I traveled along on foot. Things I never would have noticed had I been running. And it inspired a new dream, a new desire, a new goal. <br />
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I want to thru-hike the AZT. <br />
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<br />FindingKonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06454657953001860827noreply@blogger.com0