Marathon Swim Project

 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....

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...

It's been a minute.  

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.  

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.  

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.  

Or does it?

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:  Inhale joy and contentment.  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!

So I took a step back, backed off the trail running, quit my job, moved to the beach.

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.  

So what now?  

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 link to a podcast I did with YogiTriathlete until I have time to put those thoughts onto paper.  Er, or screen, rather.    

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.  

The California Triple Crown of Marathon Swimming.

1.  Lake Tahoe 21.3 miles

2.  Santa Barbara Channel, Anacapa to Mainland, 12.4 miles

3.  Catalina Channel, 20 miles

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.  

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.  

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.  

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!  

 

UMWC: Finding Aloha in Moving Forward

I'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. 

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."  

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. 

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.) 

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. 

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....

Hopefully if you wanted more details and info you had a chance to listen to the podcast with YogiTriathlete or read the Q&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.  

Always 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. 

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:)  There's always anotha thing.

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.

I sat down with YogiTriathlete at Indian Wells 70.3 to talk about Ultraman.  You can listen to that podcast here.   But if you missed the podcast extra on Patreon...

The next big thing is called the SCAR Swim Challenge and it looks like this:
Day 1:  Saguaro Lake, 9.5 mile (15.2 km) swim
Day 2:  Canyon Lake, 9 mile (14.4 km) swim
Day 3:  Apache Lake, 17 mile (27.3 km) swim
Day 4:  Roosevelt Lake, 6.2 mile (10 km) swim

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Acceptance: Finding Aloha in Grief

Me:  There's a 90 year old guy checking me out.  I'm pretty sure he's jealous of my donut pillow. 

The BFF:  He's jealous because you look so young for 80. 

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.

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)  It doesn't hurt.  Please can I ride my bike?  And I can run, right?  I pleaded with him over text message later that day.  (denial)  OK no running or biking,  but what about hiking?  I can hike right?  (bargaining)

And then, finally, my last text message to him... I need a letter from my physician stating why I can't race Ironman, for the insurance company.  Can you email that to me?  (acceptance) 

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. 

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. 

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: 

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. 

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 to 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.   

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. 

I called Hillary with my MRI results an hour before I was supposed to drive to Tucson for a long weekend training camp.  Come to camp, she said.  It will be good for you to be around your teammates.  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.

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. 

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. 

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...

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. 

I want to thru-hike the AZT. 

 

 

High Vibe Retreat: BFF Edition

Last month I went to my second High Vibe Retreat in Carlsbad CA.  After my retreat in October I immediately thought it would be a perfect girls weekend for my tribe.  My #bffx2.  My #doubletrouble.  Basically, me and my girls would have an Australia reunion--- in California.  Bonding over plant based nutrition and yoga.  Digging deep into mindfulness and meditation.  Growing, stretching, encouraging, challenging, and supporting each other.  And I have to say my intuition on this paid off.

At first I was a little bit worried about what my bff might think about all this meditation stuff.  She's kind of a no-nonsense, East coast born and raised, no time for bullshit gal.  But she's also funny, and sweet, and introspective, and wants to believe in herself and make all those big dreams come true.  And what better way to encourage that than through mindfulness?

Girls weekend!!

We met up in Phoenix and made the 6 hour road trip to the California coast.  Talking, laughing, catching up.  Though we talk all. the. time, we haven't been together, the 4 of us, since Ultraman Australia last May!  We settled into our hotel room and got some dinner and shared a lot of laughs over a glass of wine.  We had worked with Jess ahead of time to set an itinerary that met all of our desires.  We wanted to focus on yoga and meditation, and incorporate some hard training sessions, but have them be the "breaks" from the real work.

The first morning of our retreat I was scheduled to do a 14 mile steady pace run.  Marsha got up early with me to run before we met with the group for our first mindfulness session.  2 weeks before the retreat I had spoken with Hillary about increasing my run mileage to try to help my run legs come around.  Until that point they had been sluggish and non-responsive in sessions.  So the plan was 2 part-  increase overall mileage to give my legs more base to work from, and work on making my "easy" pace a bit faster, and my "fast" pace a lot faster.  That run was one of our first tests of making my easy pace faster.  It was also my longest run since Ironman Arizona in November so I wasn't sure how it would go!  We headed out into hurricane force winds and ran from our hotel in Carlsbad through downtown and along the bike path into Oceanside.  We ended up on the San Luis Rey bike path heading inland for a few miles before it was time to turn around.  On our way back through Oceanside we ran along the 70.3 course before finishing our run along the Pacific Coast Highway.  I was thrilled to be able to run, conversationally, at a much faster pace than I would have believed possible 2 weeks before.

The meditation circle.

We dove right into the retreat with a meditation session and some discussion on mindfulness.  Already I could tell it was going to be an amazing weekend.  Two of us had been practicing meditation for several months, and were eager and ready to share this with our other halves.  After our morning session we hit the pool for swim session with BJ.  During the session we were challenged to observe our thoughts.  Did we start to put limitations on ourselves when things got tough?  Did we give ourselves an "out"?  Did we worry about how fast we were swimming compared to our lane mates?

Swimming in the sunshine!

After the swim we had a quick lunch at a local favorite, Choice Juicery, and then moved into our afternoon mindfulness sessions.  The bff and I met with BJ for a discussion on mindfulness in training and racing.  I think I can speak for both of us when I say we walked away with a better understanding of how to use our minds and thoughts as tools to enhance our training, rather than let our minds work against us.  That evening we met at Endurance House for yoga, followed by dinner and a discussion on plant based nutrition.

Coffee and mindfulness in racing and training discussion!

Day 2 of the HVR started early with a 5 am meditation session and breakfast followed by a 75 minute run with BJ along the PCH.  We did a handful of hill sprints followed immediately by 20 minutes of tempo work.  I wasn't nearly as fast as BJ and Marsha, but I felt strong and was happy with my tempo pace.  And when BJ asked us afterward what thoughts went through our heads during the hill sprints/ tempo set, I smiled inwardly as I remember thinking to myself as I chased the tall, thin figures of Marsha and BJ ahead of me... I never feel so strong as I do running hills.  I was definitely in my happy place.

After the run we walked into Carlsbad for yoga at Yoga Bound, one of the studios where Jess is a regular instructor.  She is an amazing yoga teacher, one of the most intuitive and best yoga instructors I've taken class from.  I know I'm not a regular yogi right now, but I used to take classes 3 times a week minimum, so I feel like I've had my share of styles for comparison.

YogiTriathlete studio.

After class we indulged in coffee at Steady State Roasting and then brunch prepared by Jess and BJ in their studio apartment.  After brunch I had my one-on-one mindfulness session with Jess while Marsha and Laura met with BJ to discuss mindfulness in training and racing.  We caught up on what I had been doing in meditation since my last HVR, and where I wanted to go in the future.  I was reminded again how intuitive Jess is as she mentioned things that I had noticed but maybe not put a lot of thought into.  And we set goals on how I was going to use my meditation practice in the coming race season.

I swapped out with my bff for her solo session and I headed out on an easy 30 minute afternoon jog to flush the legs.  Then we went back to E-House for my favorite session of the weekend-- the Yoga Roll class.  You guys.  This class was AMAZING.  Honestly, if I lived nearby it would be on my weekly calendar.  Every week.  It was SO good.  We used the Trigger Point Grid to work every muscle group in the body.  And I'm not talking 10 minutes rolling around in front of the television at night which is my usual.  I'm talking 60 minutes.... ONE HOUR... on the TP roller working out all the kinks.  When I ran the next morning, my legs felt the best they've felt in months.

Yoga Roll!!  New favorite class.

The final day of our HVR I ran early with the bff and we shared thoughts on the weekend and the impact we felt it was going to have on our training and racing.  We are both super excited about incorporating this into life, and I was thrilled that she proved all my fears about the weekend unfounded.  We gathered the other bffs and went to Jess and BJ's for a very early meditation session and then drove to Oceanside for one last yoga session.  This class, led by Jess, was more of a yin style, which was exactly what we all needed after the last few days of travel and hard work-- both on and off the meditation cushion.  We sank deep into some restorative poses and just let gravity work on loosening things up.

Restorative yoga at E-House.

After yoga, we entered silence which lasted through breakfast which was back at Jess and BJ's studio.  We shared a final meditation during which, as we sat in our circle, we had to stare into the person's eyes across from us.  First of all, have you ever tried to do this?  Stare into someone's eyes and not shy away from the intensity?  Resist that urge to turn your head or shift your eyes?  Not laugh or make faces to distract them from the discomfort?  I challenge you to do this with someone you trust.  It's very powerful.

As I stared into the eyes across the circle from me, I fell through the black hole of the pupil into the vast darkness behind the iris.  And I felt as though I was looking at myself.  I could see everything that I like and don't like about myself only there was no judgment.  I could see fear and unworthiness, but they weren't negative- they were just there, right beside the joy, and contentment, and passion for life.  And the joy radiated so brightly that even though I was lost in the blackness- it was just space, and not darkness.  And this is how it is inside each of us.  We have all of these things together in one beautiful package, and yet only by removing the judgment can we let our true light shine, unhindered by fear or self doubt.  As Jess brought us out of our "staring contest" I had to fight back tears.  Not of sadness, but of relief.  As though I had let go of all of the baggage that I had been carrying around with me over the last few months that I didn't even realize I had.

I wasn't ready to leave the California coast just yet, but we had a deadline with flights and shuttles out of Phoenix so we hit the road.  We had good discussions and a quiet ride home as we all processed things we learned and where we wanted to go.  We each committed to furthering our meditation practice, whether it was a commitment to take 5 conscious breaths per day, or to sit for longer periods of time without background noise. 

My two HVR experiences have been very different.  With 4 people, it did feel a little more "busy" as we had so many sessions that we wanted to incorporate and different needs that needed to be met.  Everything ran smoothly, but there was not a lot of time to just breathe.  When I came to the first retreat with Rachel, I had more time-- mostly because there were a few hours of time on the bike just cruising and talking and processing.  There is definitely some benefit to both experiences, and I can say that they were each what I needed in that moment.  If I were to do it again I think the itinerary would be different yet again, and a blend of the two experiences.  If you're not ready for an immersion, but want to learn more about meditation, join the M21 Revolution-- a Facebook community committed to living the awake and ready lifestyle through mindfulness and meditation.

Inner badass tapped.  #awakeandready

 

The Double: Finding Aloha in Owning my Shit

So I raced back to back Ironman triathlons last month.  And it was easier than I thought it was going to be.  And it was harder than I thought it was going to be.  And it confirmed what I knew on November 16, 2015... that 2017 would be a year of adventures.  Nothing more, and nothing less.  And I'm fine with this.  But also... not fine.  Kind of unsettled. 

No one needs a play by play of 281.2 miles.  Here's the ugly truth:  I was mentally weak.  This didn't happen overnight.  The breakdown occurred slowly between July and November.  I came out of Alaska feeling underwhelmed with my performance but I didn't really feel trained going into it.  And then I continued sorta training but not really for another few weeks until I pulled out of Wisconsin.  At that time I had a come-to-Jesus talk with Hillary because I knew I was not in Ironman shape and I knew the double was creeping up.

And then training happened.  And my numbers (according to Hillary) were good-- "as good or better than they've ever been", only I didn't really know this I just knew that training felt "harder" than I feel like it should have felt.  But I kept doing it, and it was fine.  Some days I felt great (mostly swimming), and other days I felt blah (mostly biking). 

And basically, though my body was training-- my mind was totally not on board.  I had zero confidence.  And in a way I could see this coming.  It was almost like I could see it in slow motion, the train zooming down the tracks at me as I stood there, powerless, and I just couldn't jump out of the way.  I didn't know how to pull myself out of this.  Or I did, and do, but I just didn't execute?  Part of me kept thinking, I just need to be training more.  Eventually if I do enough training, I will nail workouts that will give me confidence.  But time ran out before I got to that point.  And I tried to fake it.  I dug out one of my favorite self help books to cram for some last minute confidence.  But it was too late. 

And so I arrived in Cabo.  I had a chat with my mindfulness mentor, Jess, before I left and she said a few things that really stuck with me.  One worth sharing:  "These are not my thoughts."  You know when you're at registration and cruising through IM village in the days leading up to a race and there's so much anxiety in the air?  And people are kinda rude because they're freaking out just a little bit?  And everyone is on edge?  And on race morning when the tension in the air is palpable?  I just had to remind myself that "These are not my thoughts" and stay as calm as possible.  And actually it was the most relaxed I've ever been on race morning.

My favorite kind of swim:  non-wetsuit

And when shit was going south 40 miles into the bike ride when I was already feeling the effects of dehydration and negative self talk wants to creep in?  I reminded myself, these are not my thoughts.  And I kept trouble shooting as best as I could.  And at mile 100 when I felt like I was having an out of body experience secondary to dehydration, I stayed in the moment and kept myself alert as possible.  And when I was dizzy and nearly to the point of blacking out on the run course, I stayed in the moment, and was rational enough to know I needed to stop and regroup. 

Beautiful.... and brutal...

And I wanted to quit, but I also knew there'd be no revenge possible on Cabo and I needed to finish.  Plus, I'm not a quitter.  So I stopped, and laid on the curb, and ate a bit, and drank a bunch until I saw medical personnel starting to circle around me on their motorcycles and then I got up and ran/ walked, faking a smile and cheering everyone on around me lest they think I AM going to pass out and try to pull me off course.  In the end, I got it done and actually 12 hours for a "bad day" is pretty darn good so it's fine. 

Number one done!

Post double, I tried to assess what I could have done differently.  And a friend had warned me about the lack of water on the bike course.  But I didn't really know what this would look like, having never raced outside the USA.  So what was happening was at every aid station they would give you a bottle of water-- the bottle was about a 16 oz size bottle, and contained approximately 4 ounces of water with a lot of ice.  If I was lucky, I was able to grab 2 bottles per aid station... but with only 500 athletes the aid stations were not super spread out (like we're used to seeing), so often it was one little bottle every 10 miles. 

In the moment I kept thinking, I'm racing...I can't stop to grab more water or fill my bottles, or whatever.  Looking back, I wish I had A) worn a camelbak (this it the only thing that would have REALLY made a difference) or B) stopped, physically stopped, at the aid stations and poured the contents of 6 bottles into my 24 ounce bottles and kept going.  Even when I was in a really bad place-- between miles 80 and the finish -- I didn't stop.  I just grabbed water and kept going and this was a huge mistake. 

All that said, every race is a learning experience and I definitely learned something.  After the race, we didn't stick around in Cabo too long because we had to get back to prep for IMAZ.

My husband came down with "Montezuma's revenge" upon our return from Cabo.  And if he was a 10 out of 10 on the "I never want to see Mexico again" scale, I was about a 3.  Nevertheless, it was enough to make me question starting the race on Sunday morning.  I thought there was a very good chance that I'd end up shitting myself if I couldn't get out of my tri-suit in time.  Thankfully I had a 10 hour and 53 minute reprieve from symptoms after ingesting what had to border on a toxic dose of Imodium. 

The swim was lackluster.  The bike was gawd-awful.  And the run... was actually fine.  Not great.  Not spectacular.  But fine.  After giving up at mile 80 of the bike ride (or maybe long before then), I tooled back into transition and just went through the motions.  I ran out of transition and after a couple of miles settled into a 930 pace.  And I worked for the rest of the marathon to keep my pace going.  I wanted to quit.  I wanted to walk it in.  I wanted to not hurt so much.  But I also wanted it to be over and the faster you run the sooner it's over.

The finish line should be celebrated NO MATTER WHAT.

And here's the kicker.  Racing back to back was not any harder than just racing.  We were so well prepared to do the double that by the time the second one rolled around I had forgotten that I had just raced a week earlier.  I actually think I was in better shape going into the second race, and that coming out of IMAZ I was in the best shape I'd been in since May.  (This is why racing multiple IM in a season can be beneficial!!!) 

Los Cabos- Arizona Double

In my post race / end of season analysis I told Hillary that I physically I felt about 75% of normal heading into the double.  And that's when she pointed out that my numbers were fine... and that I fell apart mentally.  I *knew* this deep down.  But I didn't want to admit it to myself.  Once it was out in the open, I actually felt relieved.  I AM still capable.  Physically.  Mentally?  I can (and need to!) get my shit together.  But to think that physically I might never be competitive again is a hard pill to swallow.  One I'm not ready to swallow yet.  I still have dreams.  And goals.  And things to do. 

And as tough as it is to look in the mirror and say, girl, you fucking gave up... at least I can own that shit and move on.  If I had to look in the mirror and say, your competitive days are over and you're never going back to Kona no matter what you do... well, that would just plain suck.  And maybe I WON'T ever go back to Kona.  I don't have a lot of actual control over that.  But I believe that I can.  And that's 100% of the battle.

So now here we are in off season.  And I'm working on my weaknesses.  Not just mental weakness.  But physical weaknesses too.  Because I want to be strong the next time I am faced with the choice.       



         

High Vibe Retreat: Immersion

I sat in the meditation circle listening to Jess talk.  She speaks from a place of knowledge and passion.  She talks about yoga and it's 8 limbs, and how mindfulness and meditation fit into the yogi lifestyle.  She talks about different gurus and their philosophies.  My mind starts to wander and I think, if Dan was hearing this right now I can only imagine what he would say.  I can almost hear him complaining about the new age this and that and just as I'm about to slip down the rabbit hole Jess says something and my mind makes an instant connection to my experience with EMDR 2 years ago.  And in that moment I take a deep breath, and relax, and dive fully into the deep blue waters that are offered 

before me.  I immerse.  

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

Yoga for athletes!

2 years ago I enrolled myself in therapy.  I was not suicidal but I wanted to hurt myself to make the emotional pain I was experiencing stop.  I didn't want to feel this way and I didn't want to take drugs to numb myself.  As fate would have it I was referred to the best possible match for me at the time and my therapist recommended a type of therapy called EMDR.  Prior to starting EMDR, my therapist took a thorough history and identified multiple events/ times in my life when I felt ashamed... worthless... humiliated.... (all things that I associated with my previous husband and our subsequent divorce which I had not dealt with since our relationship dissolved in 2004).  During the physical process of EMDR, I would follow the movement of lights on a board with my eyes while focusing my thoughts on one particular memory.  After a few moments, she would stop the movement and I would say whatever came to my mind.  Sometimes my thoughts made sense.  Other times my thoughts were completely random and seemingly unrelated to what I was supposed to be focusing on.  It was very, very simple.  Over time, it was almost like watching a movie of my life in reverse.

In the process of this very simple exercise I was able to remove the emotional attachment to the memories that I had, and store them differently in my subconscious.  You don't turn bad memories into good memories, but I don't have to be haunted by them for the rest of my life.  And this is in essence what meditation allows you to do.  Instead of following lights on a board, you sit in stillness with your eyes closed, but by focusing on your breathing or a simple mantra, you are able to clear your mind, remove attachment to various experiences, and CHOOSE how you want to respond to those thoughts.   This is a very simple example but I tend to have a very reactive personality.  If someone cuts me off in traffic or pulls out in front of me I get pissed off and start yelling.  Through the process of meditation and mindfulness, you start to gain awareness, you start to realize that when these events happen it's not about ME, I can pause, take a breath and choose how I want to feel.  If I want to feel angry and scream, then fine.  But if I want to let it go, because it's really NOT about me, then I can do that too.  Crazy, right?

It's not about being fearless, it's about changing your relationship with fear.  

The other thing that my therapist had me do (prior to starting EMDR) was to create a "happy place".  I was to pick a place that I loved.  I chose the top of Snow Valley Peak overlooking Lake Tahoe.  With my eyes closed I could smell the crispness of a mountain summer and scent of trees in the air.  I could feel the chill of the wind whipping against my skin.  I could hear the wind, the only sound in the engulfing silence so high above civilization.  I could see the crystal blue waters of Lake Tahoe over my right shoulder as I stood looking down the trail in front of me.  I could taste the water from my hydration pack as the icy water slid down the back of my throat.

This is the perfect example of mindfulness.  Being fully aware of something, fully present in a moment.  In every day life, being mindful might mean that in a moment of fear, anger, hurt, or even joy- you take a step back, take in all that is going on including your reaction, and see that experience without judgement.  By removing the desire to judge how you're feeling or responding to something, you can assess what is truly happening and choose how you want to feel/ respond.  I assure you this is not always easy, but it's very simple. 

Yoga on the beach.

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

Jess:  What are you bringing here this weekend?  

Me:  Well, I'm fine now, because, well, I'm training again and everyone is qualifying for Kona and so I'm, like, super pumped and motivated but, well, after Kona and Australia, I just couldn't connect with a goal.  When I contacted you in June I was feeling a little lost and well, ....

J:  What do you mean lost?  What were you feeling when you were training for Ultraman that you are no longer feeling?  

Me:  Well.... I guess I got to this point in April where I felt so strong.  Like invincible.  And I was so tired, but I could do anything.  And I had this amazing support system that came to Australia and I had to learn to be vulnerable, and rely on them for basically everything.  And it was this amazing experience.  And I guess when I came back from that and jumped back into normal life, only with not a lot of training, and no real goal in mind... I just...

J:  What did you feel?  

Me:  Restless.  Like, everyone is doing stuff because it's summer and everyone is out training and racing and I'm just sitting at home running, like, 10 miles a week, and biking maybe a hundred.  And I get it, I have to let the body heal, blah blah blah, but....

J:  And what's the opposite of restless?

Me:  Contentment.

J:  Mmmmm.  (smiling)  And what else?

Me:  Well, I talked to BJ this morning on our bike ride, but I feel like all my self doubt stems from fear.  Fear of being hit by a car on the bike.  Fear of failure.  Fear that I'm not good enough.

J:  And what's the opposite of fear? 

Me:  Joy.

J:  Mmmmm.  (smiling again)  

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

Mindfulness session with Jess.

This is not an exact quotation of how our conversation went, but my first mindfulness session with Jess at my High Vibe Retreat was revealing.  Jess guided the conversation, educated me on what it meant to live mindfully and ultimately challenged me to replace fear and restlessness with joy and contentment when I saw them in my thoughts.  

When I entered the High Vibe Retreat (HVR) I had zero experience with meditation, and limited experience with mindfulness.  I had practiced the physical part of yoga, but not the spiritual or mental aspects of yoga.  I tried to go in with an open mind, prepared to be uncomfortable and challenged.  And I was.  On such a deeper level than I expected.  

Between conversations with Jess, often while preparing meals or sitting in our meditation circle, I rode my bike for 4 1/2 hours with BJ and we swam in the local, sun-drenched pool which was heaven and ran along the coastline.  BJ was a good sounding board because it was during our physical activity that my brain would be free of distractions and start to process the things that Jess was teaching.  I would ask him questions and in a safe space was able to explore my issues with fear and restlessness.  The "aha!" moments often occurred hours or sometimes days after information was initially presented.

Heading out to ride bikes!

When we arrived at our hotel at the start of the week, there was a care package waiting for us from BJ and Jess.  We each got a journal and began writing in it that weekend.  One of the activities that we were assigned was something called "Judge Thy Neighbor".  We were supposed to set a timer for 10 minutes and choose one person that we had a beef with and just let it all go in the journal.  Hold nothing back.  We did this exercise one evening before bed.  When we finished, Rachel and I both had this feeling of, well, yuckiness.  Like we didn't want to go to sleep with all that negativity.  We speculated that this was a way for us to get something off our minds without actually confronting that person.

The next day, we were given a second assignment.  To randomly choose 3 statements from our "Judge Thy Neighbor" rant and to answer the questions:  1.  Is this statement true?  2.  How do I feel when I think this?  3.  Who would I be without this thought?  In doing the second part of this exercise you start to realize that often your judgments are unfounded, and based out of fear, jealousy, or hurt.  This lifted a little burden and you begin to see that you really CAN let go of things and it will be for the better.  What IF I didn't feel this way about so-and-so?  Well, it would be pretty darn amazing, actually.

Later we were given part 3 of the assignment.  Turn the statements back around at YOU.  This is where the exercise becomes mind-blowing.  All 3 of the statements, with my name in place of the girl I was judging exposed all of MY fears, self doubts, feelings of unworthiness about myself.  My mouth literally gaped in disbelief as I made this realization.  I didn't have to go on disliking this person because it had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with me.

So what do you do with this information?  Well, if you're me, you start to lean into that discomfort zone a little and explore your doubts and fears a little more.  Because by doing so you can process what is real, what is imagined, and what you want to reframe in your subconscious.  Negative is not going to magically become positive, but by removing my attachment I can remain neutral.  Calm, in other words.                

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

I don't know if this makes you more or less confused about what actually went on at the High Vibe Retreat.  If you're not willing to get uncomfortable and explore your thoughts and feelings, this probably isn't for you (even though it might be exactly what you need!).  But if you're ready to push that boundary I highly recommend it.  

We spent our time learning to sit quietly in meditation, practicing yoga on the beach (or in a studio), biking, swimming, running, preparing meals together, all the while exploring our thoughts, feelings, reactions, emotions.  It was intense, and relaxing, and unhurried, and challenging.  BJ and Jess are living their purpose and their excitement is contagious.  I'm already planning my next High Vibe Retreat. 

Namaste.

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

If you're interested in exploring meditation and mindfulness further but aren't sure how to get started, check out the YogiTriathlete website HERE.  Even if you're not ready for a retreat of your own, you can start with one-on-one virtual sessions with Jess.  It's not easy, but it's very simple.   

Finding Kona: Staying the Course

I have been noticeably absent from writing this summer and I think it's combination time is escaping me and I was struggling with the lack of sunshine and rainbows.  Over the last few months I've had multiple conversations/ reminders from Hillary that what I'm feeling is normal and not to lose sight of reality.  So here's the reality check:

1.  I remember nailing my 12 mile run the day after spring camp ends, when everyone else was sleeping in and enjoying a little recovery swim.  What I forget is that when I found out I had a 12 mile progression run after 5 days of destroying myself I threw the biggest pity party known to man.  Complete with tears.  #notsunshineandrainbows

2.  I remember the feeling of pride after completing the Mt. Lemmon double.  I felt invincible.  I forget crying on the side of the road at Palisades 3 hours into the ride because I was sure there was no way I could finish the double.  And if I hadn't seen Hillary and her group heading up as I descended the mountain I likely would have gone back to my car, tucked my tail between my legs, and driven home defeated.  #notsunshineandrainbows

3.  I remember being so so tired in April, but so fucking strong.  No matter what she threw at me, the hardest part of my day was getting out of bed.  I did not nail every single workout.  But I finished every single thing she asked me to do and I believe that I was rewarded with my (tired + strong) happy place because of it.

The other thing that I've struggled with is the connection with my goal.  The spiritual connection.  The "it" factor.  That one little piece of the puzzle that drives you, keeps you engaged.  Pursuing Kona for so long, and then finally being able to make that dream a reality, and then rolling straight into Ultraman, which is like #findingkona on steroids... you can imagine the difficulty coming down from that high.  I have struggled since May to connect with a "normal" goal.  To feel satisfied in doing normal things.  I didn't realize how much I was getting on an emotional and spiritual level chasing these goals for the last 4 years.  I imagine it's like summiting Everest and then getting back to base camp wondering, what's next?  There are no higher mountains left to climb.

Thankfully that's not exactly true with triathlon, there's always another goal.  Another race.  A faster time.  Higher watts.  A faster swim.  But taking a step back from Ultraman has been, well... disappointing.  I crave that strong + tired feeling from 5 months ago.  I crave that little bit of fear of the unknown.  Prior to Ultraman I told Hillary that if I was going to race UM, and then be too burnt out to race another Ironman I didn't want to do it.  What I didn't realize at the time is that while I would feel physically fine after Ultraman, mentally it would be more challenging to toe the line in something LESS that Ultraman.  And thus far I've avoided doing so.  I joined my sister for a 3 day half marathon series.  I raced the inaugural Alaskaman Extreme Triathlon.  But it's nearly October and right now I'm not even close to obtaining All World Athlete status for next year.

But knowing that I DO want to go back to Kona again, I had to do something to change this mindset.  I reached out to a friend of mine, Jess the YogiTriathlete, and asked her if I could come live in her world for a few days.  Jess and her husband, BJ, incorporate yoga, meditation and mindfulness into their daily triathlon and running training.  They coach athletes and Jess does online meditation instruction as part of this, but I hoped that by leaving my world behind for a few days, and immersing myself in their culture that I could learn to connect with my goals in a new way.  Bring some fresh vision and life to my dreams.  Be all in for those few days so that I can be all in when I line up to race my first Ironman of the year in 6 weeks.

So next week I will embark on my High Vibe Retreat.  Aside from swim, bike and run training with BJ, I will have daily meditation sessions and yoga on the beach with Jess.  In addition we will prepare most meals together in their plant based kitchen.  My good friend, Rachel, is flying in from Iowa to join me for this most amazing journey.  I have watched her embrace life's ups and downs over the last year and I thought, who better to join me on this adventure?  It would be my dream to one day take my whole tribe for a High Vibe Retreat weekend, but for now, the one on one attention that Rachel and I will receive is what's needed.

We're heading out a few days early so I can do some training with my fellow Team HPB mate and my coach.  And we'll soak up some salty sea air and sunshine while we're at it.  I'm sure there will be plenty of updates on Instagram and I'll be back to recap after the retreat!  Happy training!   

Finding Aloha to Finding Kona: Alaskaman Bridges the Gap

My husband remarked a while back that 2017 was the year of epic adventures.  And this has certainly been true thus far.

After Ultraman, I had a girls weekend planned with my sister in June.  She is doing the 50-states marathon thing and found a race that put on 3 marathons in 3 days in Idaho, Wyoming, and Utah.  I signed up to go with her (mostly just to get valuable time alone with my sis) and at that last minute, changed my registration from the marathon series to the half marathon series because I knew that my post-Ultraman legs could not handle 3 marathons just yet.

Bear Lake Half Marathon day 1:  Idaho

We met in SLC and drove up to Bear Lake, chatting and catching up the whole way.  She has 2 boys- 2 and 3 years old, and works a full time job, so it's rare for me to have time with her-- let alone 4 days of having her all to myself!  

At this same time our other sister was in the process of being diagnosed with invasive ductular carcinoma.... breast cancer.  She called me to tell me the results of her routine mammogram earlier in the week, and she was scheduled for more testing that Friday (day 2 of the race series).  She called us that afternoon to go over the results from the second round of imaging.  In all honesty, it was nice to be in a quiet space with my younger sister when we received the news and could start processing it.  I went through every range of emotions you could think of, and I can't even imagine what our older sister was feeling.  

I felt angry.  How could she have cancer?  She is 17 months my senior.  She's too young and too healthy for cancer.  She eats organic and clean and she exercises but not excessively.  I felt guilty.  She has 3 kids between 8-12 years of age.  They NEED her.  Why couldn't it be me instead?  I felt overwhelming fear and sadness at the thought of the treatments she could be facing.  I could wrap my head around surgery.  As difficult as it was to picture her with scars wrapping her body,  I could not even contemplate chemotherapy.  

Bear Lake Marathon series with Lil Sis.

As I ran the final day of the race series, I slipped my ear buds in because I needed a distraction from the endless thoughts in my head.  Blake Shelton's Mine Would be You came on half way through my playlist and when he got to the verse where he sings, What's the one thing you'd rather die than lose?  Mine would be you, I nearly lost it.  That verse summed up how I felt about the entire situation and over the remaining miles I resolved to do whatever I could to help my sister fight this.  This did not have to be a death sentence.  It is something she has to deal with very aggressively, but there are plenty of women who are surviving this disease every day.  Back at the hotel that night I started researching the various types and stages of cancer so that I could ask good questions and be informed when she described her doctor's recommendations.    

I was at Cadence Running Company getting a little bit of work done before the Tuesday evening group run when she called me with her biopsy results.  I made it through the conversation but when I put the phone down I cried so hard I couldn't breathe.  I had been holding out hope that maybe it would be benign or maybe they had made a mistake and there wasn't really anything there.  Having an official diagnosis made it real.  We thought about canceling our trip to Alaska.  But in the end my sister's radical mastectomy was scheduled for the end of July so we decided to go ahead with it.  Our hotel was non-refundable, and even though I had insurance on the rest of it, I really was looking forward to being away and in the mountains.

I wrote about our experience in the Smashfest Diaries.  You can read about them HERE.  When I signed us up for the race a year ago, I overheard on of my co-workers talking about how she and her soon to be husband wanted to go to Alaska one day, but with the wedding and the honeymoon she thought it would be a while.  I thought what perfect timing.  They are young, fit people that could easily hike 7 miles up a mountain with us.  I would be booking our hotels anyway, so they could just stay with us, saving a little money.  So I proposed the idea of being our crew to Christa and she went home and talked it over with her now-husband, Roy.  When she said yes a few days later I was so excited and we started making travel plans.

As the day got closer we met to go over some basics about the race and logistics.  To be honest, being the first year, I didn't have a lot of wisdom to share.  But I knew enough about self supported races from Ultraman that it actually ran very smoothly.

Seward, Alaska

Alaska ended up being just what I needed.  It was insanely beautiful.  If I've said it once I've said it a thousand times.  There are ocean people and there are mountain people.  I am a mountain girl.  Not that I don't love the ocean and the beach, but the mountains speak to my soul.  In the mountains I am me... I am home... I feel free.

Practice swim with Team HPB teammate Taryn.

On the days leading up to the inaugural Alaskaman Extreme Triathlon we swam a little in Resurrection Bay, biked the path that paralleled the highway, and relaxed with the gorgeous scenery just outside our hotel window.  I love Colorado, and the mountains of California, but Alaska is untouched.  It's beauty is pristine and pure in a way you just don't see in the lower 48.  It was breathtaking but I felt like I could breathe.

On Alyeska property.  Just a momma bear strollin.

It started raining on Friday morning before race day and didn't stop until we were halfway to Girdwood on the 111 mile bike course.  On race morning we racked our bikes in transition, donned our wetsuits and hopped on the shuttle to the swim start.  There was a fog blanketing the mountains and the bay, and we were told to sight off of the bright lights of the fire trucks 2.6 miles in the distance.

Pre race.

We had to tread water for about 5 minutes before the gun went off and I started shivering in the cold water.  It took a few minutes for me to warm up once we got moving.  I saw two guys pull way ahead at the start of the swim and after a few minutes I settled into a comfortable pace with another guy.  We basically had our own kayaker all the way through the swim because we were far enough ahead of the next group back.  Half way through we passed the part of the bay where a glacial waterfall empties into the ocean.  The temperatures dropped significantly and I went from being fairly comfortable to being numb and very cold.  I started to feel like I was not making forward progress and almost stopped to ask the kayaker if I was still moving.  My perspective never changed as we were swimming so it was very difficult to tell.  Eventually I did reach the far shore and was able to pull myself upright to get out of the water.  My feet, hands and face were numb so it was impossible to talk and I had zero dexterity.  I was glad to see I wasn't the only one with extremely slow transition times.

Out of the water 4th overall, 1st female.

I changed out of my swim suit into completely dry clothes to start the bike, even though it was still raining a bit.  The air temp was in the 60s so it really wasn't that cold once I got moving, but it took a good 10 miles for my body to defrost.  Christa was able to start her job of crew at mile 30 of the bike ride so from there until about mile 70 I gradually peeled off layers to hand off when we exchanged bottles.

Scenes from the bike course.

My body felt great for about 50 miles, and good enough for a total of 70.  After that my lack of training over the previous 6 weeks became evident as my body started to fatigue.  I had plenty of endurance to handle the miles, but my body wasn't used to being in aero that long and my neck and back started to let me know.

My gem, enhanced by the backdrop.

Thankfully the final 25 miles of the bike ride I had the aid of a nice tailwind so it made that final hour fly by.  I was ready to be off the bike, but didn't want to give up the incredible views I had been enjoying.  We had to carry our phones on the course for emergency purposes and it took everything I had not to stop and take pictures along the way.  I kept telling Christa, make sure you are taking photos!

DB and his gem.

I pulled into transition and a volunteer brought me over a chair to sit in while I got into my run gear.  Being self supported meant that you had to carry your own food/ water during the run leg.  Our first aid station would be at mile 14.5, so I had a hydration pack with 1.5 liters of water, and enough gels to get through at least the first 20 miles.  As I stood up to leave transition, my husband (who never caught me on the bike because he had to change a flat 4 times) rolled in.  I waited for him as he pulled on his run shoes and we headed out of transition together.  I kept telling him not to wait for me, I didn't want to hold him up.  But he assured me that he didn't really care about his time-- he had lost 30 minutes on the side of the bike course so he was well out of contention for a prize at that point.

Running up one of the many hills toward Alyeska.

It was so nice to have him there.  We ran and talked about life, and goals, and racing.  We enjoyed the views and talked about the wildlife we wish we had seen.  Pretty soon, our first 20 miles were up and we met up with Christa and Roy to start the final leg of the journey- the 7+ mile hike up Mt. Alyeska.

This was by far the highlight of the day.  The course we took was so steep.  25% grade we were told by the race director.  It was relentless but the view that unfolded as we made our way to the top took our breath away.  It had warmed up when the rain stopped, and with the humidity I was actually getting pretty warm.  I was thankful to be on the mountain and climbing in cooler temps.

View from the top.  Only 4 miles to go!

We stopped in one of the snowfields and threw a few snowballs.  We soaked our hats in a creek filled with snowmelt.  And when we came to one that was too wide for us to jump across, we plunged right through, the icy cold water stinging our feet.  I wanted to savor this time and take as much as I could from our adventure.

We got to the top of the first climb and there was a narrow ridgeline we had to traverse before descending back down.  The 360 degree view from the ridgeline was nothing short of awe inspiring.  We took a few photos and started the equally steep descent back to the lodge.

Savoring the moments and the views.

At the bottom we regrouped and started the final climb up the North Face of the mountain.  This was my favorite stretch of trail as there were build in steps and switchbacks.  I was able to get into a good rhythm and power up the hill.  At the top I stopped to wait for Dan and he grabbed my hand as he went by and we finished the final switchback hand-in-hand before we crossed the finish line.  Christa and Roy took video and a few pics.  We didn't linger long at the top because we were starving and it was getting a little bit chilly.

Christa and I at the finish line!

The next morning we went to the awards banquet and brunch.  I was happily surprised to receive the award for the Overall Masters Female (over 40 division).  I had hoped to be able to take home a coveted mining pan but I wasn't sure where I had finished among the women.  I believe I was 7th overall out of only 26 women that finished.

Overall Master's Female.

We relaxed during the day, lounging in bed late and biking in the afternoon down the bike path.  On Monday we swam in the resort pool and when I was on deck after our dip showering off, a bear walked through the property just outside the window.  It was the second bear we had seen on the property and made our trip complete.

The resort pool.  #nofilter

Arriving home I felt refreshed and ready to get to work helping my sister fight her battle.  I rearranged my work schedule to allow me to fly home for 10 days to be with her in the immediate post op period.  I knew her husband needed to continue to work as much as possible (medical bills don't pay themselves!) And I knew my parents couldn't manage taking care of my sis and her very active kids at the same time.  Either of those jobs is a full time job.

I arrived home late Thursday last week.  We drove down the block from my parents to my sister's house on Friday morning to wish her well before surgery.  Her kids were still in bed sleeping and it was all very rushed as she had to check into the hospital for a dye study prior to the actual surgical procedure.  But it was good we didn't linger because I had been choking back tears for 24 hours by that time and we just needed to get the ball rolling.

Family fun day on the trace.

Friday was the longest day ever.  My parents and I took the 3 kids to the "trace" as we call it, an old rails-to-trails biking and running path that runs for over 70 miles, with the western terminus only minutes from our house.  4 of them biked, and I ran with one of my nephews.  We ran and biked to distract ourselves.  We ran and biked to drown ourselves in sweat because if we didn't do that, we might reach for a less healthy distraction.  Throughout the day we got updates from her husband who spent all day and night at the hospital with her.  7 hours of surgery and it was done.  We prayed that the cancer had been completely removed from her body.  We prayed that she would have a fast and smooth recovery.  We prayed that she would continue to be the positive beacon of faith and hope that she had been over the previous 6 weeks.

My sister is recovering beautifully.  After a sleepless night in the hospital she was released to come home on Saturday evening, 24 hours post op.  The first 24 hours at home were a little rough.  She was uncomfortable, and still feeling negative effects from the anesthesia.  She moved slowly and mostly napped off an on in the privacy of her own bedroom.  As I was helping her get ready for bed I did get her laughing and it was good to see a glimpse of her true light.

Today, day 2, she is a whole new person.  She's been out walking the neighborhood and hanging out with the kids.  We've been laughing more and enjoying the dark humor in all of the things she is dealing with during recovery.  I have no doubt she is ahead of the curve on this whole process.

She'll have biopsy results back at her 2 week post op recheck.  Then she'll meet with the oncologist in another couple of weeks after that to determine the rest of her plan.  I was afraid of chemotherapy and radiation before.  But now I know she's strong enough to handle anything that comes her way.  And I hope to prove my value this week and be invited back to help out when she needs it in the next phase of treatment.

Prior to coming home I expressed my worry about being brave enough to my friend Jackie, who is a 10 year survivor, and she told me you have courage in buckets.  And I guess she's right.  When you don't have a choice in the matter, you just find a way to make it through.  And we could be negative, and feel sorry for my sister.  Or we can dig deep into our buckets of courage and find a way to laugh, and love, and go on living every day to the fullest.

Since Ultraman ended I have been doing a lot of reflecting on the last couple of years.  It is completely normal to go through the post race blues, and as you can imagine, they are a thousand times worse after something so amazing as Ultraman.  In the last 4 years I have been tied to one single goal and that pursuit filled me up and satisfied me physically, mentally and emotionally.  I didn't just give my time and energy to #findingkona, I was completely invested in every sense.  The journey fulfuilled my spiritual needs as I was connected with the goal and the process.

Ultraman took that to the next level, shepherding me from the finish line in Kona to the beach in Australia over an incredible 6 month journey.  The triple half and Alaskaman also fed my needs while helping me gradually return to a normal life.  But what next?

After Alaska, I decided to pull out of Wisconsin.  I need a little more time to be ready to go after my next goal for 2018, and the thought of slogging through a 12 hour Ironman race just to get another medal didn't align with my 2017 year of amazing challenges.  I am recovered enough physically, but we've been careful not to overdo anything in the aftermath of Ultraman.  So I'm taking a step back, and a step into more consistent training.  And looking forward to back-to-back races at the end of the year, which DOES align with my 2017 year of challenges!                    

And in case you missed it, I sat down with Jess of the Yogi Triathlete Podcast two weeks after Kona to talk about the journey.  You can listen to that HERE.  Jess and I have been friends since 2008, and like any long distance relationship we often go months without any sort of communication.  But I feel like Jess was dropped into my life this year to help me with the transition from this 4 year pursuit of Kona into the next phase of #findingkona.  If you're not already a YTP fan, you need to get on board, and listening to just 1 or 2 podcasts interviews is all it takes to realize how yoga and mindfullness have enhanced her triathlon life.  I practiced visualization leading up to Ironman Arizona in 2015 and I think I drifted away from that once I achieved my goal of qualifying for Kona.  I am ready to bring that back into my life and take it to the next level to help me achieve the goals I have for next year which include qualifying to race the Ironman World Championship 2018, and applying for the Ultraman World Championship 2018.