Showing posts with label Open water swim. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Open water swim. Show all posts

Sunday, August 30, 2020

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!  

 

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Show Your Cards: Mountain Man Half

I hadn't planned on racing the Mountain Man Half this year but coming off of Lake Placid I recovered really quickly and was feeling fantastic, so a few days before the race Coach gave me the go-ahead.  We figured it would be a good hard effort to jump start the next phase of training.

I used the opportunity to spend some time with the #bff driving up on Friday for a long weekend.  I haven't been to Sedona since we first moved to Arizona and I had forgotten how beautiful it is.  Literally sitting in her living room staring at the gorgeous red rocks, as they are called.  I can see why they up and moved from the East Coast.

We had a relaxing evening and Saturday morning before heading to Flagstaff.  We stayed with my cousin and his wife in their new place just outside downtown Flag.  Their home walks out into the woods behind the house.  I could totally live there.  Though it might be hard for me to hold down a real job when I'm exploring the woods on foot all day.  Anyway, we met a bunch of friends for an early dinner and then off to sleep we went.

I honestly thought that best case scenario I would be top 4.  There were a couple of notoriously fast girls racing and I didn't think I would be able to defend my title from last year.  But I knew it would be a good day, and I was going to give it my best shot.  You see, I have a new mantra.  A few little words I whisper to myself throughout the day to remind myself of the goal.

It came about after a couple of back to back HARD workouts a week or so ago.  One on the trainer, the other in the pool.  In both workouts, I far exceeded my expectations and when I was logging the workouts part of me thought, This is trouble.  Coach is going to see this and she's going to up the ante next time.  And next time, I might not hit the target, I might fail.  Thankfully, the next thought in my head was, If I don't get challenged in training, I'll never be ready on race day.  She needs to push me so that I can improve.  And I said to myself:  Show your cards.  Log the workout.  Stake claim to nailing those workouts and the next time around, step up to the challenge.  Step up, every. single. time. and show your cards.

And on race morning as we got ready for the Mountain Man Half, I knew that if someone was going to beat me they were going to have to show their cards.  They would have to give everything they had, because that was exactly what I was going to do.  Nothing could be left on the table.

Pre race with my #TriScottsdale teammates!

The 4 girls I had pegged for the podium all lined up on the front row.  I was on the outside and when we got the GO! I took off hard with a straight line toward the first buoy.  I could see JFP on my right shoulder for a couple hundred yards or so and then she seemed to veer right and I was left alone.  I stuck to my plan and swam as hard as I could.

I don't know why, but I seem to handle elevation well.  If I had to guess, I would say it's two-fold. 15 years of consistent aerobic activity builds a pretty big base.  Secondly, in training I'm often pushing the envelope into the phase where I am hugging my anaerobic threshold for extended periods of time, so that when I am swimming in Lake Mary, with reduced oxygen, it feels like every other hard swim I've done in training.  It is uncomfortable, yes, but it is familiar.

Coming out of the water my watch said 26:xx and I did a little jump for joy.  Post race, (as usual) there was a lot of talk about the course being short, or too long, or too muddy, or too cold, or too watery, or whatever.  All I know is that according to my Garmin, the course that I swam was accurate to the half distance, and I swam a PR for that distance.

Exiting the swim in the lead.

I peeled my wetsuit down as I ran through transition.  The emcee announced that I was the first woman which I was happy about.  I figured when the other girls started passing me on the bike I'd be able to keep track of where I was and fight for position.  I grabbed Hope and off we went.

The Mountain Man bike course is 2 loops, rolling hills.  After the first loop there's a little out-n-back that allows you to gauge the competition.  Coach warned me that my power numbers would be low due to the elevation and not to worry about it.  I didn't pay much attention to my Garmin, just rode a hard effort.  On the out-n-back, I calculated the second place girl to be at least 4 minutes back.  And I know she's a good swimmer, so I figured I probably put a minute or two into her on the first loop.  I didn't see anyone else, but I knew my friend LP is an awesome cyclist and I was expecting her to still catch me.

Heading into lap 2 of the bike I glanced down at my numbers and saw that my power output was, in fact, NOT low.  Uh oh, I laughed, it is going to be a painful run.  Mountain Man is a very small race (only 103 starters) so it can feel very lonely out on course.  Loop 2, I was basically alone and just tried to keep my effort level steady.  It can be challenging to stay focused without other athletes around.  Once we hit Lake Mary Road, heading back toward transition, there were quite a few Olympic distance racers out there which gave me carrots to chase.

I. LOVE. my bike!!  2:36:31 *BOOM!*

Running into T2, I was still in the lead.  Knowing that the run course has the potential to destroy, I decided to take it out conservatively.  I chugged up the switchbacks a little slowly, and at the turnaround (mile 3), LP was next female behind me.  She wasn't too far back, but I forgot to check my watch for a time check.  Further down the hill, 3rd and 4th place women were heading up, but I had enough of a lead on them I knew unless I totally blew up, they wouldn't catch me.  I decided to stay comfortable until the final turn at mile 8 and then if LP hadn't passed me yet, it would be balls out all the way back to the finish.

Run course.


I calculated a 4 minute lead with 5 miles to go.  LP is more than 10 years younger than me and I've seen her run.  I knew she had the potential to run me down.  I surged for about 2 miles and really dug deep.  With 3 miles to go I was suffering badly, but knew it would be over soon I just needed to hold on.  With 2 miles to go the #bff (who finished the Oly distance earlier) rode by on her bike.  I asked if she could see LP behind me.  She said she thought I still had close to 2 minutes lead.

Celebration!  5:07:05!!

If LP was going to beat me, she was going to have to show her cards.  It was now or never.  We were running out of ground.  I pushed one last time and I could see the turn to the finish.  I knew it was mine, but I couldn't let up and enjoy it.  I ran across the finish line, high fived the race director, and bent over with my hands on my knees waiting for LP.  She was 1 minute and 3 seconds behind me.  We hugged and congratulated each other.  Eventually I left in search of food, water and a place to sit down.

Post race smiles with the #bff and superstar LP.

I was really proud of this effort for a couple of reasons:  I had a half IM distance swim PR.   My power numbers on the bike were the same as what I rode in Galveston- where I was very specifically pushing the bike.  My bike time (on a hilly course, at elevation) was my second fastest time at the half distance, bested only by my time in Galveston (a flat, fast course).  And my run was the fastest I've ever run on this course.  LP ran eleven minutes faster than me and I managed to hold her off.  I fought for this.  I followed my plan in a race where plans can become derailed easily by lack of focus, overcooking the bike, and taking the run out too hard too early.  I am thrilled with the progress I've made this year and I know I'm beginning to sound like a broken record, but it really is just the beginning.  I have so much room for improvement!      

The coveted alabaster trophy.

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Unveiling

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Surrounded by some insanely talented women.


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

Here is what I heard:

"Look where you want to go, and go where you look..... The person who works the hardest does win in the end, if, if, IF you're willing to keep showing up longer and again and again and again after everyone else gives up.  It may take you twice as long as it takes most people, but if you're willing to keep showing up until you get where you want to go... you can't stop relentless forward progress.  If you're the one who keeps showing you, you will eventually get there...   
What I realized is what actually is apparently really difficult for most people is to find a way.... find a way to make your goal happen.  What is really easy, is to find all the things in the way.  Anyone can find an excuse.   
Look where you want to go, keep showing up, every day, keep showing up after everyone else has quit.  If you do that you'll be too busy to see everything that's in your way, keep your eyes focused where you want to go, and you'll go where you're looking."

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

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

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

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

My gem.


Hope.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Finding Kona: Arizona Edition

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

Swim finish!  
Swim:  58:24

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

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

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

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

Managing the gusts on the bike.  

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

Bike 5:45:38

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

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

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

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

Running with my amazing training partner, CH.

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

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

Run 4:03:45


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


Total time:  10:53:01

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

Hug from the boss at the finish.  

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

Celebrating a PR with MT!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  

Monday, September 15, 2014

Ironman Wisconsin: Uncovering Truth

Wednesday
I climb into bed, the sharp ache of the effort gone leaving only the emptiness of fatigue throughout my body.  The darkness surrounds me and doubt creeps into my mind.  I break the silence.

Me:  Do you think I'm wasting my time?

Him:  (long pause)  Let me ask you a question.  Is this what you really want? 

Me: Yes, I

Him:  Are you willing to keep working?  

Me:  YES, I 

Him:  Are you tired of it?  Do you have a passion for it or has that worn off?

Me:  No!  I really want it.  I will do anything I have to do.  I knew going into this that it was going to be a 2-3 year process.  I'm OK with that.  But... what if I can't?  What if I never get any stronger on the bike?  

Him:  You will.  But it doesn't matter.  Look at it this way, you don't have to be a Meredith.  You can be a Rinny. You don't have to be the fastest one on the bike.  You have to be as strong as you can possibly be so that you can run to your potential.  That is how you will win.

A quote from my coach's recent public speaking engagement runs through my mind as it does now almost daily.  If you're willing to keep showing up longer, and again and again and again, after everyone else has given up ...you'll get to where you want to go.    

Contemplating the road ahead.

Tuesday
I sit on the rickety spin bike with almost no load on the flywheel.  My legs turn the crank and my calves remind me of the effort 36 hours past.  My Garmin 510 is in my hand and I am flipping through my bike ride for the first time.  I scroll through the splits, divided into 4 neat segments of the 112 mile course.  In my mind I know the truth before my coach has to tell me.  This isn't going to cut it.  If I want to get to Kona one day I am going to have to get stronger on the bike.  I upload the file onto my phone, take a deep breath and email the data to my coach.  Is it wrong that I'm almost embarrassed to send her this information?  I am relying on her to help me get stronger, but having no prior power data to speak of, this is my first test.  And I feel like I've failed.  I know this is a stepping stone, and I keep reminding myself this is a process.  I cannot be impatient.  I have to be present every moment.  Do the work.  Keep chipping away at the proverbial rock.  Never give up.

Reenactment of the proposal.

5 years ago we got engaged at this finish line.





















Monday
She calls me in the afternoon to deconstruct.  I have been napping and now we're getting ready for dinner.  We talk about the positives from the race.  I tell her it probably didn't look like anything special on paper, but there was a lot of good stuff.  I felt super strong in the swim.  I had an opportunity right at the beginning, literally 5 minutes before the gun, to affirm my commitment to my plan.  He wanted me to line up closer to the buoy.  You're strong, swim with the main pack.  No, I said.  I have to stick with my plan.  I lined up far right to avoid the pack and a subsequent panic attack in the first 200 meters.  My plan worked, I had smooth sailing all the way to the first turn buoy which I reached with the front pack.  

I admitted, the bike ride crushed me.  So many people passed me in the first loop like I was standing still.  I felt like I maintained my effort and kept my pace consistent for the second loop, but I was hurting.  I definitely felt the effort.  But, I didn't get negative and stayed present.  I would not let my mind turn on me.  I remained positive and though I cursed at those shitty, rutted farm roads MANY times, I didn't let the thoughts remain.  I verbalized, took a deep breath, and pedaled on.  We confirmed that I need to take in more calories on the bike, but now that we know what works, we can up the intake.

I fought back on the run.  Despite a bad patch in the middle, I fought back and finished my final 10k strong.  This was a first.  Generally once I've fallen off, my pace continues to slide.  But I was using this race as practice.  Even though I knew my pace was well below the leaders in my age group, I still used other athletes on course to work off of.  I didn't want them passing me.  I fought to stay with them when they did.  This is important work for my progress as an athlete and necessary for me to see that I CAN make myself run hard even when it doesn't feel good.  This was my most important piece of the puzzle.

Sunday
140.6 miles:  11 hours, 49 minutes, 45 seconds


Ironman Wisconsin 2014 Finish

26.2 mile run:  4 hours, 24 minutes, 59 seconds.

Ironman Wisconsin 2014 Finish Chute

Mile 139.9.  The guy I've been back and forth with all day catches up to me again on State Street.  We congratulate each other briefly as he passes me on the way to the finish line.  He's a graduate student in physics at the University of Wisconsin.  His fiance is on the east coast and couldn't be here to see him finish his first Ironman.  His friends are here and he is in good form.  He'll be fine.  I climb the final hill to the capital.  I make the final lap around the capital listening to Mike Reilly's voice.  When I hear my name, I raise my arms in victory and smile for what feels like the first time all day.  I smile in relief because I'm done and I can stop running now.

Mile 133.4.  I'm walking up the hill at Observatory Drive.  In one hand I have a cup of salty potato chips.  In the other hand I have a double shot of Coke.  I keep telling myself, the race starts at mile 20 of the marathon.  I have to pick it back up.  I had been running strong for the first half, but somewhere along the way my energy dipped.  I have been trying to get back in front of my calories now for several miles.  This is it.  There's another girl in Smashfest coming the other way.  I will not let her pass me.  I pick up my pace a little bit and force my aching legs into the effort.  At every aid station I grab a little bit of calories.  Another Honey Stinger gel.  A cup of Coke.  Perform.  Chicken broth.  Keep the fluids coming.  Pretty soon, my legs begin to respond and recognize my pace.  It hurts just a little bit less and I pick it up a little bit more.

Ironman Wisconsin 2014 Run Course

Mile 128.4.  I'm heading toward the Camp Randall Stadium for the second time.  I'm still feeling good but not quite the same as my first 8 miles.  My mind knows I'm too far off pace but this is my opportunity to practice racing.  I keep running.  I see him coming from the other direction.  He doesn't look good.  He's wobbly and staggers a little bit to my side of the road.  He's been puking for hours.  I tell him there's an aid station around the corner.  Go there, rest, and get some calories and fluids.  He tells me he's dropping out.  I keep running.

Mile 120.4.  My mind and my body are reeling.  I have zero recollection of hills on this run course.  I feel like I've been slapped in the face.  A rude awakening.  With the gradual climb through the neighborhood, and the several steeper climbs, I am feeling every ounce of effort.  I stick to my plan taking in gel at regular intervals and water at every aid station.  My stomach has been solid all day affirming that my new hydration/ nutrition plan on the bike works.  But why didn't I remember these hills?

Ironman Wisconsin 2014 Run Course

T2.  I'm so happy to be off the bike.  I can't wait to start running.  I dump the contents of my  transition bag on the floor.  I slip into my running shoes, grab my race belt and visor and run out the door.  2 minutes 9 seconds.

112 mile bike:  6 hours, 17 minutes, 3 seconds.

Mile 82.4.  Almost there, almost there, almost there.  I keep telling myself this so that I don't lose focus.  I am counting down the miles till I'm back on the stick heading toward the finish.  The roads on the course are brutal.  Jarring.  My body is trashed from bracing against every pothole and rut in the road.  My bike feels like it's falling to pieces.  My xlab has completely slipped, that happened in the first 20 miles.  My derailleur which was nice and quiet at the beginning of the ride now resists changing gears and is making a lot of noise with the effort.  There are still people passing me, just not as fast now.  And I am passing a few people back.  That feels pretty good.  My energy levels are stable.  My mind is clear and focused.  I am getting this done.

Ironman Wisconsin 2014 Bike Course

Mile 32.4.  I can't think about how far I have left to go.  I have to stay in the moment.  One down side of being a good swimmer and an average cyclist is that I am literally getting passed by everyone.  I take a deep breath and keep going.  I have to race my race.  Keep my head in the game.  My watch beeps to remind me when to eat.  I stick to my plan.

T1.  I swam under an hour.  I swam under an hour!  Confirming my progress wasn't a fluke, and sticking with my plan at the start line was the right decision.  I swam under an hour.  How long is this freaking transition?  I am spinning up the helix and into the change tent.  The volunteer is trying to be all calm and taking her time.  I throw my bag on the floor, not even bothering to sit down.  I strap my helmet on, grab my shoes and sunglasses and run out the exit.  I holler thanks! over my shoulder as the volunteer is explaining how she'll pack up everything for me.  I'm gone before she can finish her thought.   5 minutes 40 seconds.

2.4 mile swim:  59 minutes, 54 seconds.

Ironman Wisconsin 2014 Swim Exit

Mile 1.9.  I am going nowhere.  Am I going nowhere?  Why do I feel like I'm swimming in place?  Since making the final turn toward shore I have hit some type of current and literally am swimming upstream.  I kick a little harder.  I try to pick up my turnover.  I can see the exit I just don't feel like I am getting any closer.

Mile 0.8.  This is freaking awesome!  I look to my left as I breathe and I am with the front pack as I converge with them on the first turn buoy.  I feel fantastic.  So strong.  My turnover is perfect, I am swimming a straight line.  Is it possible to get a runner's high while swimming?

Mile 0.0.  The national anthem is playing.  We have 5 minutes till the start.  He encourages me to move closer to the actual start buoy.  Swim with the main pack.  You're a strong swimmer.  I shake my head.  I think back to Texas.  I don't have time to explain all the thoughts running through my head right now.  There's no time.  I have to stick to my plan.  *BOOM*  The cannon sounds.

T minus 3 hours.  My alarm beeps.  It's race day.  

The capitol building in Madison, WI.  Backdrop for the IM Moo finish.

    

 

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Stripped: Ultraman Canada

July 10.  10:13 pm.
The message from my teammate read:  Team HPBers!  My run pacer for Ultraman just bailed on me.  Anyone want to go to Penticton July 31-Aug 6- all expenses paid?  Let me know if you are interested and I can provide more details.  Would need someone to run with me 2-3 miles, every other 2-3 miles, after mile 20.

July 11.  4:09 am.
I saw the message on the team page.  I sent a quick response:  Let me check my schedule.  This would be awesome.  Not getting my hopes up... but I'll let you know in a couple of hours.

July 11.  7:59 am.
I arrived at work.  My calendar was completely clear.  I had enough PTO to take the two days I needed to make this happen.  The other 5 days were my normal days off during this block.

I texted HPB:  I can get the time off for Ultraman Canada to help Barry.  I would love to go but I'm guessing it's really bad timing for Wisconsin training.  Tell me I have to stay home...

July 11.  8:14 am.
I received a response from HPB:  Haaa!  Honestly you can totally do it.  You have so much work in the bank already that we can afford to do this.  No pressure but if you want to!  ...

She continued:
You would be perfect for it because you can be a hard ass and plus you are a cute girl so he won't be able to wimp out in front of you- all key...  

Blame it on me...  I'm putting it on your training plan. 

By 4:30 that afternoon, the announcement had been made, I was officially crewing and pacing for Ultraman Canada... something I had been secretly dreaming about since Barry first told me about it at our team camp in February.  As an ultrarunner, I have been crew/ pacer for several friends tackling the 100 mile distance.  I know from experience that there is no better way to gain experience than by crewing.  Ultraman is something that I aspire to do one day and this was my chance to go backstage and see how it really plays out.  I didn't know it then, but I was in for the ride of a lifetime.

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

July 31.  4:20 pm.
After a long flight, and what seemed like forever in the car from the Kelowna airport in British Columbia, I arrived at the Days Inn Penticton hotel and conference center.  The crew meeting was already underway so I found an empty seat near the back until there was a break and I could join my team at their table.  I was so excited to be there!

The race director covered the bike and run course in detail.  Instructing crews on the rules and pointing out specific road hazards that might be encountered.  I had read every ounce of material on the website so there was nothing unfamiliar to me.  As I looked around the room, I saw 29 athletes surrounded by family and friends.  Already, this felt nothing like Ironman.  The air was electric with energy, but not ego.  

After the meeting ended, I had time to squeeze in a quick shake-out run before the team picked me up for dinner.  I got to meet our team captain, Rich Sawiris of Wheelbuilder.com fame.  Richie, as he is affectionately known, was the brains of the operation.  He had a spreadsheet outline to keep track of calorie and fluid intake, time and mileage at each checkpoint, as well as predicted and actual calorie (kJ) expenditure based on Barry's power meter.  It was insane to see how close Richie's predictions were to the actual numbers... literally within 20 calories throughout the entire 12 hour stage.  I recognized immediately that Barry was in good hands and began plotting ways to convince Richie that one day he should crew for me at Ultraman.

The final member of our crew was Barry's wife, Johnna, otherwise known as Trophy Wife.  Johnna has enough energy for 10 people.  Johnna and I had hung out and biked together at our team camp in February and I was excited to spend more time with her.  About 2 months before Ultraman she underwent open heart surgery to replace a valve that had been abnormal since birth, but only recently had begun to cause problems.  She said there was never a question as to whether or not they would still go to Ultraman.  As long as she was cleared to travel (which she was) she was ALL IN in support of her husband.  Johnna is pretty bad-ass in her own right, as an athlete and an attorney, but crewing together at Ultraman I was exposed to her nurturing side as she endlessly tried to anticipate Barry's every want and need.  She did an awesome job helping minimize his energy output whenever she could.  

Over dinner we talked and laughed... a LOT.  Aside from being a technical genius, Richie is also very entertaining.  There was never a moment in his presence that I wasn't laughing.  Together the team reviewed the game plan, but also recognized that day 1 would be a lot of trial and error and we would make adjustments along the way.

I sat down with Barry the night before Ultraman to ask him a few questions.  I was scrambling to take notes as he was talking so these are not exact quotes, but I tried to convey responses as closely to his answers as possible.

Barry, when did you decide you wanted to do Ultraman?
I scoped out the race a couple of years ago but wasn't prepared physically.  I started working with (coach) Hillary (Biscay) 2 years ago, and my training level began to increase.  One cocktail too many in November and I submitted my application.

What was Hillary's response? 
I didn't tell her right away as she was getting ready for the Ultraman Hawaii Championships.  I waited a couple of weeks and then told her.  She was psyched.  She's always looking for an excuse to turn up the volume and intensity.

How did your training change after your application was accepted?
It didn't really change until after Oceanside 70.3 (at the end of March).  I signed up for a 200 mile bike ride (double century) in February, and we had the 5 day training camp which was a lot of volume.  After Oceanside I had two-a-day workouts almost every day.  I couldn't come home from work and chill, rest up for the next day.  I was always doing another workout after work.  I had a lot of 10k swims, about one a week.  Lots of band-only (swimming freestyle with a band holding ones ankles together) work in the pool and lots of PBB (pull sets with paddles, buoy and band).  The good part of training in May and June was that I couldn't eat enough.  I was burning so many calories with training I could eat whatever I wanted.

Did you have any tune-up races between Oceanside and Ultraman Canada?
I raced the Whoos in El Moro 50k which had about 6500 feet of climbing.  It was hot.  I ran at a "run all day" pace so I felt good, except for the last 3 miles which were all downhill.  Every rock hurt.  (Note: he finished in a respectable 6:24:16).

And I raced Ironman Coeur d'Alene in June.  I was instructed to swim all out, and ride my hardest IM bike leg ever.  I came off the bike in 8th place in my age group, and I'm never in the top 30.  Then I had to run the marathon at my "run all day" pace.  It was the best I've ever felt after an Ironman.  Except that I got food poisoning 24 hours later after eating a half price yogurt parfait.  (Note to self:  do not buy discounted perishables...)

How did you manage training and recovery? 
The hardest part was managing my work schedule and training schedule.  I found myself a lot sleepier June and July.  Prior to Oceanside I was training 15-16 hours per week, with a typical month being 60-65 hours of training.  In my buildup for Ultraman I was averaging 25 hours a week.  In June I hit 102 hours of training.  July felt like a taper though I had a couple of long weekends.

The key thing with volume is recovery.  I was able to stay healthy through training.  I used the recovery pants about four times per week, got a deep tissue massage every couple of weeks, and tried to go to bed early.  And Hillary is really smart about scheduling the volume.  It made it really bearable because there were not a lot of days when my legs were so trashed.  I never felt like I couldn't get up and do the workout.

Now that Ultraman is here, what are you most excited, and most nervous about?
I am most excited to just get going.  I am most nervous about the length of day two... and what happens past mile 30 of the run.


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

August 2.  6:00 am.  Stage 1:  10 kilometer swim (6.2 miles) and 90 mile bike.  12 hour time limit.

We were bursting with restless energy waiting for stage 1 to begin.  The swim is point to point in Skaha lake, and on race morning the surface was like glass.  Each athlete was assigned to a paddler to lead them in a kayak for safety reasons (the lake is open to boats).  The kayak would also carry any food/ fluids that the athlete might need during the swim stage.  Barry got really lucky being paired with Wayne, a very experienced kayaker who led the way to his stage victory beautifully.  

Me, Richie, Barry and Johnna.  Our T-shirts read:  You cannot be serious.  :)

Barry comes from a swimming background, and secretly we were hoping to match the swim course record.  He came close with the second fastest time in race history of 2:31:23, and about 27 minutes ahead of the next athlete.  As crew, we had a lot of fun watching the final 2 kilometers of his swim.  We were perched on a dock overlooking the water, and we could just barely make out his kayak in the distance.  When Barry made the final turn to cross the lake, there was not another swimmer in sight.  We were screaming our heads off as he swam the final meters to the swim exit and ran him through transition in 3 minutes 42 seconds.  He was quickly onto the bike course and packed up our stuff and headed to the car to follow.



Swim exit.  Photo credit:  Rick Kent, official ultraman photographer.


The second half of stage one our time was spent leap-frogging Barry on his bike.  Richie had scouted out the course in the days before the race, and had planned where the best feeding spots would be.  We tried to find a good incline to hand off food/ water as we knew Barry's pace would be slowed some, and it would be easier to run alongside his bike to replace bottles and hand off food.  We kept track of how much he was eating and drinking and whenever necessary we would shout at him to "DRINK!"  Barry is pretty quiet, but eventually he began to tell us what he wanted (coke, ice, etc) which reduced the guessing game we had been playing most of the day.
Little mountain shower keeping the athletes cool.


Being first out of the water, he was a hunted man on the bike portion of day 1.  He was passed about half way through by the eventual winner of Ultraman, and we never saw another athlete until we were down to the final 20 miles.  At that point we knew he had a solid lead and would hold onto 2nd place at the end of the stage.

Day 1 Bike Finish.  Photo credit:  Rick Kent


Day 1:  Swim 2:31:23 + Bike 5:10:41 = 7:42:04, 2nd place overall.

August 3.  7:00 am.  Stage 2:  171 mile bike.  12 hour time limit.

Recovery from stage 1 was a little bit hectic.  We wanted to make sure Barry was off his feet, eating and drinking and heading to bed early.  Johnna and I did were able to get out for a bite to eat which was the first real food we'd had all day.  We made plans for the following morning and had everything lined up for the final day as well since we'd be spending the night in Princeton after stage 2.

Day 2 we were a little more prepared for when we needed to stop and how often, though adjustments were still made on the fly.  After leaving the start area, we made a quick stop in town and then headed out to start leap-frogging.  When we passed Barry we took note of where he was on the course relative to the other athletes.  We pulled over in one of the first small towns the course travels through and waited for Barry to come by.  When we noticed several athletes who had been behind Barry come through we knew there was a problem.  We whipped the car around and a mile or so back he was on the side of the road getting ready to change a flat.  Richie jumped out of the car with a spare wheel, swapped wheels lightening fast, and had Barry back on the road in no time.  He lost less than 2 minutes with that flat.  Unfortunately it was his second one of the morning and he felt pressure to catch back up with the lead group.

Stage 2 Bike.  Photo credit:  Rick Kent


By half way through the 171 mile course, we had the logistics down pretty well and Barry had caught back up with the main pack.  We were stopping much more frequently on stage 2 because the road conditions were worse and we didn't want to chance another flat or mechanical issue.  Plus it was getting really warm as the day wore on and we kept him cooled down with ice and water.  We kept a very close eye on him.   Each time we stopped we also got to cheer for the two or three athletes in front and behind him on the road.  It was fun to interact with the other crews and support each other in this venture.  Nothing like 171 miles to make you feel bonded!

Stage 2 Finish.  Photo credit:  Rick Kent

At the end of stage 2, Barry's stomach was not feeling great.  He did a great job of refueling that evening, and tried to take in as much fluids as possible, but after 2 straight days of endurance racing, we were in a big deficit.  Each day he weighed in before and after the stage.  And after both stage 1 and 2, he had lost over 7 pounds of body weight in fluids.  To say he was dehydrated would be an understatement.  I was frantically texting Hillary for suggestions knowing that everything was going to play out on stage 3 and he needed to be in the best possible shape at the start of the day.  

Day 2:   Bike 9:35:32 + Day 1 = 17:17:36, 4th place overall.

August 4.  6:45 am.  Stage 3:  52.4 mile run (or 53 miles as it were...).  12 hour time limit.

The final day.  Gathering around the start line I couldn't help but feel a little anxious.  It's now or never.  The last stage.  It's make or break time.  I was hoping with everything in me that the day would go smoothly, that Barry would have the race that he dreamed of having.  I had the same feeling of melancholy that I get when I am about to start the Tahoe Rim Trail... all that work and it's going to be over in under 12 hours.  You want the pain to end, but the experience to last forever.

Stage 3 Start.  Photo credit:  Rick Kent


Everyone was ready, and the director started the athletes off a few minutes early.  There was no sprinting off the start line, just the steady beat of footsteps heading into the morning.  It took a lot longer for separation among the pack to occur than during the bike ride on stage 2.  This contributed to a bit of congestion along the course as all the cars were in leap-frog mode from mile 1.  We elected to stop on the half mile (1.5/ 2.5/ etc...) to avoid some of the traffic.

Each time we stopped, Johnna and Richie tried to get me to stay in the car.  Get off your feet... you have to run later!  But I had too much nervous energy and simply could NOT stay in the car.  Every mile we handed him Gatorade or water, and every 30 minutes we offered him some calories.  He looked super strong and his pace, though a little slower than he had hoped, was steady and consistent.

Stage 3 Run.  Photo credit:  Rick Kent

Several runners had pacers with them from the start.  Each time they ran by they were chatting and smiling and making it look so easy.  At one point near the half marathon mark I told Barry if he needed any help with the hills to let me know.  But he was still charging along and didn't ask for help until mile 19.5.  We were standing by ready to hand off drinks and he asked if I wanted "the 32 mile option, the 30 mile option, or the 26 mile option."  It was run time!!  I hopped back in the car, layered some more sunscreen on, and at the next exchange at mile 20.5 I jumped in for pacing duties.

Time on the run course went by a lot slower than time in the support car.  Instead of constantly having my mind occupied with what we needed for food/ drink and where the best place to stop was, I had only one focus:  to keep Barry making forward progress.  (And to not annoy him in the process.)  As a pacer, I take on new identities depending on who my athlete is and what they need at the time.  I've been fun run pacer, I've been hard-ass-meanie run pacer, and I've been let's-not-get-lost-in-the-woods-cause-you're-delirious run pacer.

Stage 3 Run.  Photo credit:  Rick Kent


Running along with Barry, I maintained the attitude of "everything us cool, everything is fun", borrowing a quote we overused at team camp.  When everything started to fall apart a few short miles into my pacing duties, I tried my best to pretend like this was normal and to be expected.  At mile 25 Barry took a gel.  An instant later he was vomiting on the side of the road.  Vomiting a LOT.  I put my hand on his back in a gesture of support and glanced back toward the car as Johnna retreated with a look of shock on her face.  It was really difficult for her to watch him suffer, though before the end of the day this episode would look like nothing.

When he stood back up, I put on my best poker face and announced that it was time to get moving again.  I also reassured him that now we had a clean slate.  The stomach was empty and we could start over.  Over the next few miles, Barry continued to feel like crap.  Finally, I made the call to have him walk at an easy pace for 10 minutes and drink about 8 oz of chicken broth.  He was so dehydrated, and I thought maybe getting some salt in would settle his stomach and allow him to start absorbing things again.  My suggestion was based on experience in endurance racing, not just something that I pulled out of my ass.  It was a gamble whether it would work for Barry or not, but at the time I thought it was worth a shot.  The effect seemed positive and we had a solid 10 miles in the middle where everything went smoothly and he was able to run steady again.

Richie ready to drape the towel on Barry for cooling.

There was a final 10 kilometer climb before reaching the summit and subsequent 8 mile descent into the finish.  During the climb, Richie offered to jump in and pace while I ate a sandwich in the car.  I figured on the climb they would be doing more walking than running, but Barry must have felt good or didn't want to be outdone by a non-runner because he ran quite a bit of that stretch.  Richie and Johnna continued to provide fluids and cold towels every mile.  Barry was wearing a Mission cooling towel and arm cooling sleeves which when kept wet help manage core body temperature.  I was using standard issue hotel towel soaked in ice water.  I wore it for 30-60 seconds on average during beverage exchange and after I handed it back I could still feel the cold on my arms and shoulders for several minutes.

Stage 3 Run.  Photo credit:  Rick Kent

Eventually his stomach woes returned and the vomiting along with it.  By the second, third and 4th episodes his whole body shook as he expelled the unabsorbed fluids and he was left weakened and further dehydrated.  I held onto his hips for support as he leaned over the edge of the road puking, afraid he would fall headfirst down the cliff.  I kept telling him we had plenty of time to get to the finish before the cutoff.  At one point I gave him a predicted finish time if we maintained 15 minutes per mile (which was well over the pace he had been running).  I was happy to see that he was still in the game mentally when he corrected my math... reminding me that it was 52.4 miles, not 50.  (Note to self:  Don't play the numbers game with a CFO... he's better at numbers than you are.)  After each episode of vomiting, I tried to push fluids again knowing that he still had too far to go to NOT try.  Even if he only absorbed a little bit, it might be just enough to get us to the finish line.  I'm sure he was cursing me in his head as nothing sounded palatable this late in the game.

I didn't really start worrying about Barry's physical state until we got down to the last 5 miles.  Now when the urge to vomit came over him, nothing came up.  There were no fluids left in his system and the dry heaves seemed to take more out of him than vomiting.  With 4 miles left, he was too depleted to run so we walked.  Richie jumped out of the car to encourage him, and forever the comedian, ran by us wearing a pair of my runderpants with "Get Used to the View" across the rear.  I had packed them thinking that if Barry needed a little motivation, it might be enough to get him moving.  I imagined them on my own ass, not necessarily on that of Richie though we all got a good laugh and Barry claimed that this was something he couldn't unsee and made Richie get dressed before it made him sick again.  In Richie's defense, he could totally pull off the runderpants look.  I think if he were a triathlete, he could rock a speedo.

When we got to the final mile, and Barry's garmin told him he should already be done he wanted to stop moving.  He says he was joking when he asked to sit down, but there was some truth in the plea.  I kept encouraging him to keep moving, wanting him to get across that line and be done with the suffering.  We could hear Steve King announcing at the finish line for almost a mile.  Finally... finally, we rounded the corner into the parking lot and could SEE the finish banner.  I told Barry this was his moment.  As he ran the final couple of tenths into the finish chute, I dashed through the crowds of spectators to meet him on the other side and give him a big hug of congratulations.  He did it!!

As much as he wanted to go sit down, I made the crew gather for our finish line photo and I'm glad we did because it wasn't long and the finish chute turned into a real mess.  And by the time Barry recovered enough to move again, the finish banner and all evidence that anything had taken place was torn down.

Ultraman Finish!  Crew:  Richie, me, Johnna, and Wayne.   Photo credit:  Rick Kent
Day 3:  Run 11:29:41 + Day 1 + Day 2 = 28:47:17, 10th place overall.

We helped Barry over to the massage table.  I hopped into the ice bath and enjoyed some pizza and a beer while he was getting worked on.  Unfortunately his stomach didn't calm down in the hour after he finished and when he was done with his massage and lying on a towel on the ground we were looking at a very long night, possibly in the ER.  Richie and Johnna tracked down the medical personnel and explained that he had been vomiting for over 6 hours and not able to keep anything down.  They hooked him up with a liter of fluids, and a bit of dextrose to buy him some time until he could eat again.  With some fluids on board, we got him into the car, stopped for Gravol (potent ginger root) at the pharmacy and stocked up on Sprite which was the only thing he consumed for the next 16 hours.  By morning things seemed better and we enjoyed a late breakfast.

Nurse Johnna attending to the patient. 
    
Over the course of three days Ultraman strips you of everything not vital to survival.  You check your ego at the door prior to race day when you meet the athletes and crews that are joining you in this venture.  It is humbling to learn everyone's backgrounds and stories, and to see the amount of support surrounding each athlete.  There is a lot of love in a room filled with family and friends.  You learn to rely on others for support and help.  As someone who does everything herself, and has a hard time asking for help, I imagine this will be a huge learning experience for me one day.  It's tough to be vulnerable and rely on others for needs so basic as food and water.  Many athletes struggled at one point or another.  Whether it was getting though a nearly 6 hour swim, or dealing with heat and long miles on the bike.  Or gutting out a double marathon when you're puking your insides out.  When all you can do is put one foot in front of the other, minute by minute, you need to hear it's going to be OK and we'll get there.  It's comforting to know that your family is there, no matter what, and they've got your back.  They will make you laugh.  They will share your tears and pain.  And they will cheer the loudest when you finally make it across that line, whether it's under the time cutoff or 6 minutes too late.

As we sat through the awards banquet on Tuesday evening our emotions were on our sleeves.  We listened to story after story of trial and error, misstep and triumph.  Everyone had a different experience, but shared the same story.  The story where you have a dream, and work endlessly month after month (year after year), and eventually come together to make that dream come true.  This is the story I want to tell.  The story of Ultraman Canada 2016.

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In the days after Ultraman I messaged each of our team members for a little post race follow up.  In the aftermath, it's important to write down what you would have done differently, or what went really well so that you remember it for next time.  There are no lessons learned from inattention to detail.


Q&A with Rich Sawiris:

Richie, when were you asked to crew and what were you told your job would entail?

RS:  Some time after registering, Barry asked me to crew.  I was told my job would be technical and mechanical support for bike equipment and feed support.  I pretty much did what I expected.  I didn't expect to run, but I couldn't sit in the car anymore.

Would you crew again?  (Please say yes...)

RS:  I'm not sure about crewing again.  You'd have to ask me in a month or more after the pain wears off.

What would you do differently?

RS:  On the bike we got lucky with no mechanicals.  We just didn't have enough tools to repair a (real) mechanical.  Crew needs to be fed during long days when they are in the car.  Make sure there are no personality conflicts (among crew) or you're in for a very long weekend.    

And lastly, on a scale of 1-10, knowing you are missing the last data point, how certain are you that I am a unicorn?  (Please watch this video on YouTube for reference... this became an ongoing joke among our crew.  Seriously laugh-out-loud funny....)

RS:  I think you might be a unicorn, but mathematically it's impossible to be less than a 4-5 crazy with all the training you do.  This leaves tranny as an unfortunate but highly probably solution to the equation.


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Q&A with Johnna Plaga:

Johnna,  first of all, how did you get the nickname Trophy Wife (this is what Barry refers to Johnna as...)?

JBP:  (laughing) OK, remember the story I told you about at dinner where we divorced (briefly, many years ago) and then got back together?  The second wife is always the "trophy wife".  Just so happens that the second wife is the same as the first wife!  (Every couple has a Jerry Springer story, right??)

Ha!  Love it.  How did your responsibility on the crew change after your surgery?

JBP:  My responsibilities changed a lot due to surgery.  First I was less involved in the nutrition and planning of this race than I would normally have been.  I would have planned out all possible needs for food/ hydration, etc and that just didn't happen because I was going to the doctor or resting/ sleeping more than normal.  I also would have run with him on day 3 before surgery, it just wasn't in the cards after surgery.

How did the weekend compare to your expectations?  Was there anything that surprised you (good or bad) about Ultraman? 

JBP:  The weekend far exceeded my expectations.  I knew Barry would have a great swim.  I was worried he didn't believe in his cycling abilities, though he had a great IM CDA bike, so when he hung with the big boys on day 1 and 2 I was so happy for him.  I think it was a much needed mental shift for him-- he does have cycling legs!  Day 3 was harder for me because of the vomiting.  I did not expect this.  I expected walking and cramps, but not vomiting.  It was hard for me to watch, I think I am more emotional since surgery and it was hard to watch him suffer, especially since I helped him after CDA when he vomited for 36 hours.

I was surprised how much prep Richie put into knowing the bike terrain and mapping out where to feed/ water.  It was really helpful.  I don't think anything else (other than how I felt about Barry vomiting) surprised me at Ultraman.  It was good to see that crews were as helpful to each other and the athletes as I had been told they would be.

Having been through this, do you think next time would be easier?  Or more difficult.. knowing how much he's going to suffer?  And what would you do differently?

JBP:  I think the next time Barry does Ultraman it will be much easier.  First I will know not to sweat the small stuff, like missing Barry for the first flat.  After hearing stories from other crews about losing their athletes for hours, running out of food/ water/ ice/ etc.  One crew forgot to buy bottled water so they filled the cooler with water from a hose and the athlete complained it tasted like shit.  (The crew tasted it and confirmed it DID taste like shit.)  And one crew was no longer speaking to each other after the race.  So we batted 1000!  Second, I would be more prepared for nutrition, I like to have all options covered.  I hated possibly running out of chicken broth, which I wouldn't have even had if I hadn't bought it to make the rice!  There were no Tums in the medical bag, no organization in the cooler.  I would have had more than one cooler.  I would have had everything covered, listed, posted and re-organized each night so there is no guessing.  I would include more "real food" on the bike, and I will get Barry to practice it during training!  PB&J, boiled salted potatoes, etc.  Third (it will be easier) because I know the suffering will be temporary.

What things did you bring from California that you were happy you had, and what would you add for next time?  

JBP:   I was happy we brought the rice cooker and Nutri Bullet for protein shakes.  Cold bike clothes --cause you just never know!  (Note:  when it started raining on Day 1, the crew was frozen!!  Thankfully our athlete was kept warm by his effort.)  We had the recovery pants (which got used every night), extra bike shoes- which I originally thought was overkill!.  We had extra run gear and extra wheels, which came in handy.  We discussed bringing an extra bike, but short of the bike being crushed in a fall- which would have rendered Barry unable to ride- we knew Richie would fix any mechanical.  Next time, more tools for the bike (Richie mentioned some he wished he had), more variety for nutrition on the bike and run, and plenty of it.  Oh!  And good food for the crew!!!

Last question... do YOU ever want to do Ultraman?

JBP:  That weekend totally made me want to do Ultraman.  I am so far back in my fitness at the moment that it seems almost absurd, but it's on the list.  I spent 2013 with a torn calf muscle in January, a broken collar bone in March, 2 collar bone surgeries and 6 weeks on crutches in the fall with a tibial stress fracture.  I thought 2014 was going to be great- then heart surgery.  So I will be 55 years old probably before it is possibly a reality, but hey, better late than never.  I hope you saw Hillary's great talk on Mind Body Green- best advice ever- I intend to just keep showing up!

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Q&A with Barry Plaga:

Barry!!  Post race recap... How are you feeling physically after Ultraman?  Are you back in the swing of training?

BP:  I am feeling pretty good.  This week my legs feel a little tired.  I think the post race high has worn off, but it did last almost a week.  I ran 20 minutes this morning, and everything still works!  I think Hillary has me pretty easy this week.  She hasn't posted the weekend yet, so we'll see.  

Looking back, was there anything about the race that went better/ easier than you thought?  Or harder than you expected?

BP:  Looking back, everything went close to how I envisioned it.  Having done IM Canada (now Challenge Penticton), I knew the location and the setting so a lot of anxiety was not there.  I spent a lot of time during training and recovery thinking about the race, the day to day, the meals, the prep, etc, and I got pretty organized.  I was more nervous about packing than about racing.  I knew if I had everything I needed at the race, and in the car, Hillary would take care of the rest and I would be able to execute.  I thought everything went perfectly-- you guys allowed me to just stay in the zone, stay in the zone, stay in the zone.  

What would you adjust for next time?  ....There will be a next time, right?!?

BP:  The only thing I would change would be hitting me earlier on day 1 during the bike.  I probably could have drank two more bottles during the first hour.  Other than that, just a better breakfast.  My best morning meal is scrambled eggs, a little toast and some good Greek yogurt.  For next time, I would schedule more days off work to sleep and prep for the week coming up.  I was the walking dead some weeks, especially when run block and bike block collided into Big F'ing Block.  I think our CEO was a little pissed at me, but hey, I showed up on Thursday and hit our earnings call out of the park with wall street.  

In terms of next time... uh, uh, uh, YES I want to do it again.  I kind of wish I was doing Challenge Penticton this weekend.  I feel like I could do well.  Maybe that post race high hasn't worn off yet.  :-) 



All smiles at the finish.