OBX Half Marathon Race Report

Sunday November 11, 2012

Nags Head-Manteo, NC - Outer Banks Half Marathon

For those who prefer to skip to the chase - my official time was 2:44:38.2*

The REST of the story:
PRE RACE thoughts - the last time my lovely partner Donna and I raced was almost exactly TWO YEARS AGO.  A lot has happened (like a whole year without training, much less racing and a whole other year of trying to get our mojo flowing again) since then.  Have we forgotten how? Have we trained enough?

We live about four hours away from the Outer Banks and luckily for us - it was a GORGEOUS weekend for a drive and a race.  Temperatures in the fifties and sixties, sunny with nice breezes.  Ideal for me.  We picked up our registration packets (and cool red technical shirts!), made a round of the expo, dropped off our canned goods for the Hurricane Sandy relief effort, and headed to get dinner at Kelly's.  I don't know about anyone else - but eating supper between 4:30 and 5:30 the night before a race is PERFECT for me.  I have time to eat and still go to bed early; I wake up feeling fueled but also hungry enough to eat what I need to before the race.  It's just all good.  Kelly's was offering specials for racers (though we ordered a regular entree which turned out to be as economical as their special because they gave us their early bird discount - woot!) Back at the hotel (we recommend Nags Head Inn!) we laid out our gear and each did our own night-before thing.  Turns out my night-before thing isn't complicated enough to make me feel comfortable when "all" I'm doing is getting ready for a run the next day.  I was somewhat bereft without a half dozen checklists, multiple bags, tools etc.  I kept looking at the wee pile my shoes, three Gu's, skirt, jog bra, tank, and race number made.  In fact - I could hide everything UNDER my race number.  (Not that I whiled away my time by arranging and rearranging my stuff trying to make smaller and bigger piles to see which soothed my anxiety or anything.  No, no.  Not implying that at all.  Erm. Next topic!)

I have crazy, mad sleeping skills.  Acquired the hard way in boot camp.  While I was Navy, not Army Infantry - I relate to this -->
I fell deeply asleep very early and slept the whole night through.  Donna - not so much.  I think there are a very, very few times my sweet girl hates me but I'm pretty sure they all occur while she is staring at the ceiling longing to fall asleep while I am completely zonked out next to her.

RACE MORNING:
Another difference between us is that I like to be at the start early.  Some people have abandonment issues. I have "OMFG I'm going to be late" issues. And I'm an introvert so the crowds and the music and all the excitement freak me out a bit**.  Somewhat counterintuitively, being at the start early helps me get through the worst of my adrenaline. I get acclimated to the noise; I short circuit the anxiety about being late; I get centered for my day. I relax and start to enjoy being there. Donna - not so much. Donna needs to stay as calm as she can for as long as she can on race morning. That ends up looking like getting to the start as late as possible and still being lined up before the gun goes off.  We were sherpa-less for this race so there wasn't an easy way to go to the start at separate times.  We split the difference and got there earlier than she wanted, but later than I wanted.  Unlike some compromises - I don't think this one worked so well.  Adrenaline mismanagement issue number one.

It helped that we had gone to the beach and put our toesies in the Atlantic before driving over.  That was nice but after that I was a bunch of worry spikes. I was stressed about being late; parking was a bigger issue than I expected; we thought we were walking to the shuttle but turned out we were in a flock of hearty souls walking to the start which was closer to us than the car was when we figured it out, etc. It was all FINE.  Really.

We had time to pee.  We had time to get cold.  We had time to take this cute picture of ourselves.  -->
We had time to wonder what that weird thing was, hovering up in the sky.  (Turns out it was a remote controlled drone/video camera filming the fun.) We had time to be moseying over to our corral when a giant BOOM! sounded.  WTF?? Nine minutes before the start and someone is firing a cannon?! Note to race directors - when you have a crowd full of military folks on Veterans' Day - maybe unexpected, loud, large caliber gunfire is NOT a good idea.  Just sayin.

I spent the next nine minutes preparing for another round of cannon noise at the actual race start. (Not a fan of cannons.  Oh no.  I am not. Adrenaline issue #2.) I tried to think calming thoughts - to savor beautiful images from the morning already.  Like this image.  Ahh.  Pretty sunrise.  Beautiful Atlantic Ocean.  No need to worry about cannons.  Dammit.  Stupid cannons. Big countdown over the loudspeakers - and then ... nothing.  Just the surge as the speediest ones took off and the rest of us shuffled up closer.  Huh.

The RACE ITSELF - Yay - our turn to start!  Run! Well sort of.  You know that crowded stepping, weird pace thing at the beginning.  Still.  We were almost running.  RIGHT through a cloud of cigarette smoke.  The two women next to me actually started coughing from it.  One said a very bad word, which made me smile and hope the smoker heard.  (Don't you wonder just a little bit about someone who stands there smoking while watching the start of a race with thousands and thousands of runners? Baffles me.)

We ran.  Woo hoo!  Running.  It is a straight forward activity isn't it? The first mile was on pace.  The next two about thirty seconds faster than our usual.  I was having trouble breathing - my chest was tight.  Donna said, "Let's slow down.  Recovery run."  Good call.

The course was ok.  Flat.  Some of the views were amazing.  Especially in the neighborhoods along the lovely Carrituck Sound.  One long stretch was on Croatan Highway.  That part was ... less than optimal for me.  I don't know if it was that the view was mostly strip mall businesses, or if it was the exhaust fumes from the traffic idling and passing us.  For me that section was no bueno!  The volunteers were great.  There was a group from the aquarium - with someone in a Shark Mascot type get up.  I totally got a high five fin! There were signs on the course that were HI-LARIOUS!

Like this one.  There was another one I didn't take a picture of that said, "I started training for this marathon when I realized I would be the first to go in Hunger Games." Bwa ha ha.

To make a longish race report only a little shorter I will ffwd to mile 8 where once again I was having breathing problems.  Not wheezing - just my chest was tight.  I felt slow (which isn't new) and remarkably heavy (which also isn't totally unheard of for me while I'm running but this was truly a leaden feeling.  Not the same as the heaviness from a brick.  This didn't wear off.) You know how you usually have at least a mile or two during a long run that's pretty awesome? Yeah - I never once had that feeling during this race.  I had these thoughts about being out of shape and undertrained - but you know what? I had that amazing mile (or three) feeling on the Golden Gate Bridge and I sure as hell was more fit and prepared for this race than I was for that one.  I couldn't figure it out.  Whatever.  Trudge. Trudge.  I was ready for the race to be over.  Downtown Manteo is quaint.  The weather was perfect.  They had weird and very loud music about two miles from the finish but not much music or hoopla at the finish itself.  Interesting.  I didn't actually care.  Yay!  The finish line.  I was about ten yards away when a woman comes charging from behind me, elbows me out of the way screaming, "Coming Through! Um-kay.  I was already over to the right but go girl if you've got that much juice at the end.  Could have done without the elbow knocking me aside but I was so glad to be done!  I had sent Donna ahead a while back.  We train together and in running races we usually stay together for some of it.  Ultimately though we run our own races.  She was in stronger space so I sent her off with our trademark launch phrase, "Go baby, go baby, GO!"  I saw her waiting in the finishing chute for me.  Big smile.  The nice lady put a pretty medal around my neck.  Somebody else tried to hand me something blue.  I was weaving my way to Donna and went to take a breath.  No air.  None.  Lots of panic.  But no air.  I reminded myself about what they say in the swim - that when you panic and feel like you can't breathe in, to focus on breathing OUT.  Blow out and your body will take care of the sucking air in as a response.  Tried that.  You know that sensation when you try to suck a really thick milkshake up into a straw? THAT is how it felt.  I tried to say I couldn't breathe.  I think Donna and the nice race volunteer had figured that out already.   My head was swimmy but I could see Donna and there was someone at my arm, holding me up. I got steered to the medical tent.  First time I've ever been sent to the medicos!

 I had all these random, rapid cycle thoughts and questions forming a chaotic, looping internal monologue.  "How many minutes can you go without air before brain damage occurs? Five people bustling about but what can they actually DO? Are they going to give me oxygen?? Do they know I need oxygen?! How is that finger clamp going to help me get air? What good is the squeezy cuff on my bicep if I pass out? Weird whistly sounds are good, right?  Because they mean SOME air is getting past? Leaning and arching my shoulders back seems like it would help more than it is helping.  Oh hey, my legs hurt.  That's a good sign, right? Because surely the brain doesn't care about legs if the lungs are shutting down.  Lungs trump legs.  I read that somewhere." Gradually the elephant slid off my chest.  My answers to their questions went from one word gasps to short sentences to longer sentences.  I hoped that if I proved I was ok by talking they would let me go.  It worked eventually.  Signed some papers.  Got told that it was probably a lung cramp.***Had to promise I would carry an inhaler with me from now on. (How much good do inhalers do if you can't, you know, INHALE? I would have been ok if I could have inhaled!)

Left the medical tent in search of food****.  Got a nice person to take our "Yay We Did It" picture.  We met some really nice ladies who were all dressed up as Wonder Woman.  Ten or so of them!  They do the race every year and dress up.  I love these people!!  Clearly I wasn't completely back to normal because I chopped their heads off in this picture.  (But don't you love their WW socks?!)

While waiting in the line for the shuttles to take us back to the start, we got to talking to some other great folks.  One girl was relaying the ups and downs of her day and said, "I don't know what happened.  I reached out for water and ended up getting a handful of BioFreeze instead." She mimed holding her hand out, then looking at her palm and then shrugging her shoulders.  "Guess I looked like I was in pain.  Not sure how to look thirsty."  It was fun to laugh and connect with the other runners.  Finally we were back to the car, then the hotel.  We showered and just made our checkout time.  (Extended for runners until 1. Sweet!)

POST RACE - We ate a recovery lunch and headed home.  As we debriefed in the car, I began to put together how sore my chest was, how many different ways my breathing had been compromised (smoke, exhaust fumes) and restricted (adrenaline) throughout the day.  My holistic nutritionist buddy Kim reminded me that muscles need oxygen and when your breathing is restricted everything has to work so much harder - your heart, your lungs, your muscles.  Good information!  I had a crappy recovery run two days later.  My chest muscles were still sore; I was in bad mental space; and I rolled my ankle two miles into it.  However, I babied my ankle that night (ice, fish oil for their anti-inflammatory properties, some gentle stretching, and soaking in epsom salts) and it was FINE.  I had a super seven mile trail run day three after the half marathon.  I'm learning how big of a toll stress and adrenaline take on my running!  I had hoped the half marathon would be confidence inducing as we work our way towards the marathon.  Wrong pie face! I am seriously doubtful that I can get all the way there in the nine weeks I have left before the Miami marathon.  I guess we will see!  We are going to keep training.  Race fees are paid.  Miami seems like a great place to be at the end of January, whether I can run 26.2 miles or not.  Happy Thanksgiving.
Peace y'all!

*2:44:38.2 - Really? I guess they need that kind of precision for the Fasty McSpeedypants folks up front but for me the .2 is totally wasted.  It is NOT like that .whatever is going to be the part that gives me a new PR.  Cracks me up.  Like putting an aero helmet on a snail.  .2 - wheee!

**If you read "freak me out a bit" as "SCARE THE BEJEEZUS OUT OF ME AND SPIKE MY HEART RATE INTO THE 200'S!!!!!" then imma guess you've seen me in person on race day morning.  (Lucky you.)

***Lung cramp.  Bronchial spasm.  Whatever.

****By "food" I mean "beer" :D

Only 105 weeks to go!

I HAVE been doing new things - building my coaching business, running sporadically, healing A LOT from the stress of last year - and since the Universe is SUCH an interesting place - another new thing I've been doing is handling the stress of THIS year in new and (hopefully) healthy ways.

Stress this year has included a tree falling on our house, which totaled one of our cars and necessitated us living in a hotel (kids and dogs and all) for five weeks only to return home and have two appliances (dishwasher and gas stove top) break in alarming ways with the kicker being having another car totaled by someone rear-ending John as he was at a dead stop trying to pull into our driveway.  Sigh.  As you can see, I have had many opportunities to practice my new de-stress techniques.  I am EXCEEDINGLY grateful that all* of our stress has involved just "stuff".  The hassle factor is high but that's it.  People are ok and stuff can be replaced or done without.  Still - learning to handle hassle without having it negatively affect my body is a big goal of mine.  I think learning the skill of "resilience" is key to my Iron journey.  One new "tool" in my stress management repertoire comes from Heart Math and involves thinking of an uplifting/inspiring event.  You know it - I think of IRONMAN FRANCE 2014!!

Fun IMFR stuff -
1) IMFR 2012 is this Sunday!  Yay!
2) I don't know anyone personally to follow (now that they've barred Lance**) - but I did discover by perusing the competitor lists that there are THREE women in my age group from my local area in the race!  How cool is that?  I am totally wangling some introductions or something.  Surely I can find a way to meet these women when they get back!

Fun on-the-way-to-IMFR stuff:
Our training for the OBX marathon got derailed enough that we are pushing the schedule back a bit.  New plan is the OBX half mary and then the full shebang come Jan 27th in Miami.  I'm thinking Miami and Nice may have some similar conditions.  And that keeps us running steadily through the winter - which we NEED!  Historically - it has not been our strong point.  I'm excited about following the Hal Higdon Novice Supreme*** training plan.  I *heart* training plans!

So - happy summer everyone.  I am having fun reading your race reports and training stories.  Peace!

*Ok - I take that "all" back.  The evening the tree fell (=worst Cinco de Mayo EVER!) I had actually spent the entire day in the emergency room with our youngest son who had gotten smashed by an illegal check in a Lacrosse tournament.  He ended up with broken ribs but no lung damage.  Yay.  He's 13 and healed in about three weeks.  In fact I dropped him off at LAX camp yesterday:

See? He's FINE.  (Says the nervous Mama who is trying very hard not to worry about her baby's return to a sport involving boys crashing into each other and whacking each other with sticks.)

**Uh - NOT to imply that I know Lance Armstrong personally.  That would be cool but so far - haven't met the guy.  Still - I was planning on tracking him in IMFR until all this new bs started for him.  I guess the "innocent until PROVEN guilty" idea isn't part of sportsmanship??  I don't know. I have no idea if he cheated way back when or not.  I guess anyone is capable of it - but that many drug tests over that many years plus his leadership in the fight (personal and public) against cancer? Seems unlikely to me - and BESIDE THE POINT in terms of triathlon.  Worried about him "cheating" now? Ok - do more tests!  But barring him? Disappointing and unfair I think.  They can go back and strip him of titles if it gets "proven" but if they are wrong now- it's not like they can go back and give him the chance to compete in the race they barred him from.  Stupid officials.  :(  Anyway... (hand on my heart, think of a happy place, think of a happy place).
***Novice Supreme? Maybe it is telling how addicted to Mexican food I really am - but how do you read those words and not think "Nacho Supreme"??  And the Nacho Supreme Marathon training plan cracks me up.  It is soooo me.

The Second Time Around

I am sitting in my comfy Hampton Inn bed, contemplating what it will be like to repeat a race.  Tomorrow morning I'll stop contemplating and start experiencing.  Beach to Battleship. Take two.  I liked the first take a lot.  Even though I haven't blogged, I HAVE trained.  Not so much swimming this year, but LOTS of running.  Probably about the same amount of biking as last year.  We did a 12 mile run two weeks ago where our slowest mile was an 11:30, my penultimate mile was effortless, and my final mile was a 9:27.  (I KNOW!! Me - a nine something minute mile!!! Cra-zee!) 
Here are some things I have going for me tomorrow:

• Been here, done this, still have the t-shirt.  :D Some of the pressure is off because even if tomorrow sucks slimy rocks, I am STILL half iron.  On the flip side of that coin is the confidence piece of knowing I CAN do it because I ALREADY DID do it. Plus knowing the course and having the incidental logistics familiar from last year is decreasing my stress level. 
• I have done the training. (Always a good idea.)
• The weather is supposed to be about as perfect as possible: low of 40 something tonight, high of 67 tomorrow, ZERO percent chance of precipitation.  (Dude, it's mid-November on the East coast!  We could so easily have had 40 something and rainy.)  There will likely be some wind - and that may suck on the backstretch of the bike which is a false flat into the wind.  But the sunshine more than makes up for it.  
• The "downhill" swim from last year will be even more in our favor this year!  By the time my wave went off last year - the current was still there but it was ebbing.  This year at 8:50 - when the 40+ women start - the current will be full strength with us.  Woo hoo!  

Things I'm worried about despite all I have going for me:

• Not having done as much swimming (as in like a dozen pool workouts total and only one, count it ONE open water swim - er, yesterday) - I'm not feeling super confident about the swim.  Even knowing about the current.  
• There is a grated section on the drawbridge that scares the bejeezus out of me.  They say not to slow down or speed up or move sideways at all on that section.  Riiiiight.  Last year I slid and came about this close to going down and ending my race right there.  It happens less than half a mile into the bike, when your hands are still frozen from the swim and your coordination is not at its peak.  Pray for me.
• GI issues.  I have had some amazing training runs this year.  And?  I've had a few - where, as far as I can tell, I haven't changed a thing and yet...I have been seriously disturbed by tummy troubles.  Same nutrition, similar weather conditions, everything as consistent as I can make it - but one run my stomach is fantastic and another, ZAP!  I'm hurling in the bushes or hurtling for a port-a-john. 

I am so grateful to have the chance to race again.  I talked to and got love from all the kids; we have our fabulous sherpas (John and Nancy) with us; and of course -  I am lucky enough to have the most beautiful, amazing, and perfect training (and life) partner to get to race with.

Our deal is that we "race our own race" but she will be with me in my heart and in my head every single breath, pedal stroke, and step tomorrow even if she's not at my side.  (And she might be right next to me.  Remember last year?)

It's been so much fun to hear from my last year's B2B buddies Tracy Weir (<---lovely Canadian chica, whom I met on the course last year at run mile 3 when I was miserable), Carolina John (blogger pal extraordinaire and Ironman-to-be (IMFL 2011) who called today when we were at the expo to wish us luck), and Vickie and Shirley (who ROCKED this race - the full course last year.)  I will be thinking about all of my friends and family who have encouraged and supported us.  There's that long back stretch on the bike where I plan to savor each and every one of you!
Peace.

B2B (Half Iron) Race Report

Saturday November 7, 2009 - Wilmington, NC
Beach2Battleship Half Iron

For all you number crunchers out there - here are the stats - sort of.  First I'll give you the "official" times, then I'll give you my times according to my watch.  BUT both timing systems had race day issues!  Some craziness went on with one or more of the official timing mats.  No one has T1 times - and poor Donna (along with maybe 20% of the other racers) doesn't have a swim or a bike time.  My watch worked fine and dandy - I just forgot to push the lap button at the end of the bike.  I realized somewhere in the middle of T2.  Whatever.  Here are the two time streams (and ne'er the twain shall meet!)
Officially -
Swim - 29:37 (65th - woo hoo!  a mid-pack stat!) 
T1 - n/a
Bike - 3:50:19
T2 - 4:45
Run - 3:05:15
Total/Finish Time - 7:29:55 (138th out of 156 women who finished and 163 total.) 

Unofficially -
 Swim - 27:45 
T1 - 12:20
Bike - 3:43:30
T2 - :55 (Doh!)
Run - 3:05:45
Total/Finish Time - 7:30:24*
*I purposefully didn't stop my watch at the exact finish in the hopes of a good finish picture, but as the third place iron finisher was passing us in the chute, there's little chance of that.  The announcer didn't say a word about us either.  Not that I mind the third place iron guy getting his due!  Dude was fast.  And our personal cheering section was on hand with all the kudos we could want.   In the best tradition of putting the cart before the horse, here's a video of our finish:


It starts off with high fives before we actually cross the mats - and then our buddy Dave runs to catch the rest of the action.  What's totally funny to me is how consistently BAD AT MATH I am* during or after a run.  We were 41 (not 45) minutes faster than our most optimistic goal.  But I can also cut myself a little slack.  Did you notice how I'm weaving around?  I got really, really, really dizzy at mile marker 12.  Like I wasn't sure I could finish upright.  I felt ok - legs and everything.  But things were spinning and spinning.  The comment about being almost as fast as Chris Johnson (lightning fast running back for the Tennessee Titans) cracked me up too. 

*Unlike Donna who told me how much she loves her race number because it's 2³x 11².   That's my girlfriend - the math dyke.  I can't do basic subtraction and she's over there doing logarithms and shit in her head.  

THE WHOLE SHEBANG

OK OK - now I have to go back to the very beginning and tell things in order.  (I'm going to throw in a lot of details and musings, mostly for my own enjoyment.  Feel free to pass this part up.)  


The day before the race was smooth and perfect.  The strangest moment for me was when they put the plastic bracelet on my wrist:

You know how in Russian and German they have these polysyllabic words for an emotion that can't be translated into English in less than a paragraph?  Yeah, I needed one of those words when the guy wrapped this around my hand.  For whatever reason (maybe because the only other times I've gotten a plastic id bracelet are the times I've gone into the hospital to have a baby) that part of the check in process hit me hard.  "It's really happening.  I'm really going to do this.  I may or may not come out of this as a half iron triathlete - but I won't be the same person on the other side, no matter what."  Those were a few of the thoughts that went through my head.  I started to get overwhelmed - but I have the best partners.  Donna understood exactly what I was babbling about which helped make it ok to be right where I was.  John made us laugh by playing word games trying to come up with a name for the emotion we were feeling and then wondering if he could get a tattoo saying "Fahrvergnügen" in kanji.  The rest of the day was very low key.  I ate my sushi for dinner (yay!) and was asleep by like 8:30.  (The marines and the crying baby were magically silent!)

PRE-RACE NON JITTERS
My race day alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. but I was awake at 3:45.  Not nervous - just feeling quietly determined.  I took my shower and started eating my PowerBar (the vanilla yogurt protein one).  I knew it was going to be a great day - no matter what the time results were.  I just knew it.  Donna and John both got up a little later and we were out the door at 5:40 and at the transition area by 6. 

It's an amazing experience to train and race with someone who is not only your training partner but also your life partner.  Triathlon has brought us so much closer.  We've learned a lot about ourselves and each other.  One of the things we've learned is that in stressful situations we need very different things to stay or get calm.  Poor John trying to cater to our opposite needs!  Getting to the event early early early helps me cycle through my adrenaline and gives me time to relax and enjoy the process.   Standing around for that long makes Donna a crazy person.  Ideally for her would be to get there with just enough time to pump her tires, zip her wetsuit, and run across the mat.  We compromised on raceday and it all worked perfectly. We checked our bikes, stashed a pair of old shoes along the swim exit, and got bodymarked.

As the sun came up, it was easier to lean into the spirit of the day.  We had enough time and energy to get cheesy and silly.   Do you like how we were posing and flexing for the camera? 

 

Even though it's faded in this picture (because it's from after the race) - I had the body marking gal put the peace symbol on my other calf.  Lots of people commented on it - as they passed me on the bike (sigh):

John didn't realize there was a "41" on my right calf.  He thought it said "Hi".  

There are so many parts that were memorable.  I loved being at the start - which was a crowded little dock area.  I chatted with Carolina John and Missy.  I got to meet SWTrigal and some of her cohort!  We cheered for the iron athletes as they swam by us.  We were their half way point - and they were all doing such a superb job!  Even the very last person passed us at the hour mark.  (You know how if you're the last person on the run, there's usually a cop car following you?  Yeah - how'd you like to be the last swimmer in this race and have the sweep vehicle be a Coast Guard Cutter?! Little bitty guy followed by a great big boat. I so wish I had a picture of it!  But there wasn't enough room for spectators at the start so my camera was with John away at T1.)  The American anthem was stirring (as always for me) and then it was time for the first wave. Just before we got in, Sage appeared!  (We are madly trying to save money to hire her to coach us.  She is simply an amazing athlete/coach/yogini/cool chica!)  Her hugs were our good luck charm as we hit the water.  And one final fun thing was that my mom had texted me the night before to say that she was going down to the lake to put her toesies in the water in a show of solidarity with us at the exact moment our wave took off.  I thought of her but didn't see this picture until later:

8:50 a.m. (7:50 Central time) How much fun is that?  I love my mom!!

THE SWIM (29:37 or 27:45)

We ran across a mat just so they had a record of us entering - but our race time started at our wave start's listed time.  For each wave we got to get in the water about 5 minutes before the horn.  It was PERFECT!  Enough time to get used to the water and be ready to swim.  Donna looked radiant!  The minute she got in the water, something changed for her.  I wish I had a picture to show you - but she was calm and energized and excited to swim.  She grew up in Miami - and I think her connection to the Atlantic made a huge difference for her in the race.  And then the horn sounded and it was time to swim!!  We were swimming down a channel so even though there were buoys, our only real navigational instructions were to "stay in the water and turn left at the Wiggly Man".  (The Wiggly Man was one of those strange, man shaped balloon things they have at used car lots that shimmies and dips as hot air is blown into it.  They had one on a boat - and you could see him even from the start.)  I started swimming.  Nice easy strokes waiting to fight off panic that never came.  I felt great in the water.  I had plenty of room; my goggles fit and didn't fog (thank you); I could breathe.  Every time I took a breath, I could see the moon still hanging in the day sky.  It was lovely.  "The moon, the moon, the moon," became my unintentional mantra.  I was at the Wiggly Man before I could believe it.  The water visibility was perfect - clear enough to see ahead but not too far down.  I always had someone swimming close enough ahead of me that I felt safe and on track.  It was the best open water swimming experience I've ever had.  BY FAR!  And then I was at the dock.  Realizing I had to pee. I know most people just pee in their wetsuits, but I can't do that!  Oh well.  I stopped my watch, climbed up the wooden ladder, got shucked by a wetsuit stripper, ran through a freshwater shower, found my shoes that I stashed and then "ran" a million miles the 400 yards through a parking lot, across a road, down a sidewalk, into transition to my bike. 

T1 (a long ass time)

My watch time says 12:20 for T1, but that starts from before I climbed the ladder until I hit the mount line and climbed onto my bike.  Contrary to the way it looks, I did not do my nails or dine on a seven course meal in transition.  That said, it was not a smooth transition.  Even after I finally got to my bike - I had to pull all of my stuff out of a plastic bag and then decide what exactly I wanted to put on and what I wanted to irrevocably leave.  Not easy!  I had been worried about being cold at the bike start - which was reasonable at 6 am when it was 36 degrees and even my wool socks weren't keeping my feet warm.  At 9:20 when it was clear and sunny on the way to being warm - I wasn't sure what I'd need and what would be overkill!  (Arm warmers would have been perfect dammit!  I've wanted some for a long time but they just haven't made it to the top of the list!)  And did I mention I still have my super speedy-in-transition bike shoes with laces that you have to tie?  (Funds!  We need a sponsor or a patron or just a shoebox full of fifties that we can spend on tri gear!)  Anyway - I did finally get out of transition just a few minutes ahead of Donna.  

THE BIKE (3:50:19 or 3:43:30 or somewhere like 3:39 if you adjust for transition)

Usually when I start biking (no matter the terrain, no matter the distance) my quads protest at first.  Not so this time.  Yay!  The course was exceedingly well marked and staffed with volunteers.  Even I couldn't get lost.  It was twisty and turny - but so freaking amazing to know the cars were being kept out of our lane and that the intersections would be cleared for us.  LOVED IT!!  I felt like royalty or something.  Well - except for the million and twelve people who passed me.  I stayed well to the right and got passed and passed and passed and passed.  I kept my cadence up and my heart rate down.  I adjusted my gears so that I wasn't mashing.  I didn't really mind that people were passing me - except they didn't look like they were working any bit harder and they were getting farther.  It's always a bit weird to get passed by those guys with the disc wheels - swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.  At first it must have been the relay guys passing me, but by the end of my bike - it was the first of the iron guys passing.  Wow! 

I enjoyed the bike.  It was as flat as it's possible to be. And there wasn't any wind to speak of until the last 20 miles or so.  I like rolling hills so the few bridges were actually fun for me.  (That's not to say I was fast, just that I enjoyed them.)  Oh, well, except for the first one which was a draw bridge.  They put carpet over the grating but it was a bit slippery.  We'd been warned about this in the athlete meeting the day before.  In fact the race director specifically said not to pass for those twenty yards of the race - and what did I hear the second my front wheel touched the carpet?  You guessed it, "On your left!"  Asshat. 

The only other thing I could possibly whine about is that I had to pee.  I remembered that there were aid stations every 15 miles on the bike.  Yay!  But mile 10 came and went and then mile 20.  By the way, Donna caught up to me just off the I-140 so we rode "together" (i.e. with the requisite Toyota Camry length between us!) for most of the rest of the ride.   She reminded me that they'd said "aid stations every 15 miles except the first one is at mile 25".  Rats!  And then double rats because at mile 25 it wasn't there.  Nor at 28 - which was about when we saw Carolina John on the other side of the road on his way back.  He didn't see us though.  He was focused - totally dialed in and spinning smoothly.  We finally came to an aid station (porta potty!!)  after the 30 mile marker.  That was a l-o-n-g time on the bike not being very comfortable bending over!  Made a quick pee stop, grabbed some water for my bottle and then was back on the bike!   My nutrition was pretty good.  I was eating a shot block every ten minutes and drank all of my gatorade and most of two bottles of water.  The last leg seemed to have a bit of wind and I felt like I was working harder for less progress.  My right hip ached a bit but when my right knee started to twinge I realized I'd been holding my leg out in an effort to soothe my hip.  I stretched as well as I could while moving and then focused on my form.  Aero bars sure would have been nice on this ride.

The last thing to say about the bike leg is that there is plenty of time to savor the race experience and life in general.  I spent whole sections of the ride listing the people I love and am grateful for in my life.  If you are reading this post, then you were on that list.  I also spent a considerable amount of time talking to my bike, Vivian.  Glad there weren't folks around to hear. 

T2 (4:45 which makes sense or :55 which is patently not true)

Donna hit a low point at the end of the bike and beginning of the run.  She had made an extra stop on the bike and then caught back up so we were in transition at almost the same time.  I was a little wigged out by the volunteer trying to take my bike from me because I knew where my rack space was and he took my bike and went in a totally opposite direction!  (This is my excuse for not hitting the lap button on my watch and hence having a screwy transition time.) After a few moments of "WTF?!" I went to my rack as that's where my run stuff was.  I was a little foggier mentally than I expected, so I was glad of all those double and triple bricks.  You get a lot of T2 practice with those!  A few mistakes I made that I want to remember not to make again.  I didn't take a gel in T2 the way I usually do because I had no water.  Since we'd had to check our transition bags in the night before I hadn't filled up my handheld water bottle.  It leaks a bit and I didn't want wet socks (or shoes or skirt).  I figured I'd have at least some water left on my bike that I could use until I got to an aid station.  I had not figured on not having my bike with me in transition!!  The guy did show up at the very end but I was already moving out. (And he racked my bike so she was resting on the brake levers instead of hooking the seat over the bar which worried me but I wasn't verbal enough to say anything.)  Leaving Donna behind when I knew she was holding back sobs was hard.  Being off kilter with my gel/water routine was a little stupid.  Worrying about my bike being ok was pointless.  Frankly I think I got out of transition and onto the run only because it was the easiest thing to figure out how to do at that point.

THE RUN (3:05:15 or 3:05:45)

Because T2 was at the Battleship where the finish was, it was spectator friendly.  Which was great.  Except one of my challenges is that I start the run too fast.  My heart rate spikes and it messes up the rest of the run.  On training runs I've gotten good at dialing it down until I am breathing well and running smoothly.  I have NOT gotten good at it when there are people cheering and ringing cowbells (OMG - I LOVE COWBELLS!!)  I was so glad to get out around the bend where people couldn't see me anymore so I could walk and get myself under control!  "Settle in.  You're going to be here a while," is a mantra I borrowed from RBR.  It helps!  I got my heart rate down, got myself to the first water station, filled my bottle, took my gel and got ready to run.  Just in time for the big "hill" of a bridge.  Oh well.  I walked up it (with many, many of my fellow athletes).  Then I settled into a rhythm of sorts.  One where I looked over my shoulder for Donna every few minutes.  A wonderful Canadian woman named Tracy befriended me in those first few miles.  Here's a picture of us all at the end:

Donna caught up to us around mile 4 - and things were great.  I was so glad she had worked through what she needed to.   It just feels right to run with her at my side!  She got stronger and stronger with each mile.  I felt good for the most part - but was decidedly not getting stronger and stronger.  I took a gel at mile 5 and a half of one at mile 8.  I probably needed a whole one, but couldn't stand the idea of it.  I had a knot centered and up high in my torso.  It didn't feel like anything could get past that.  I sipped on my water and drank actual cupfuls of it at the aid stations.  That helped.  The run was lovely.  It was a great course.  It was an out and back looped course with the half being one loop and the full being two.  You got to see not only the gorgeous scenery, but also most of the half and some of the full peeps in the race.  There was even a wedding going on in the park as we passed by.  The weather was absolutely perfect.  I was sad to be walking so much but it was very hard to get worked up about anything.  We knew (even with my sadly lacking computational skills) that we were well under our goal time.  We saw Shirley starting her first lap of the marathon.  We cheered for all the New Mexico Outlaws we saw.  We got passed by the lead iron male on his final lap.  We looked but didn't see any of our personal cheering section out on the course.  Our friends Misty, Dave and their 6 year old daughter Louise along with our dear friend Duncan and of course, John - our partner and sherpa extraordinaire with his camera and iPhone for posting status updates to FB - missed us at every spot due to our wildly unexpected early speediness!  Apparently after a day of missing us over and over, when they saw our bikes in transition they just went to the finish line.  And we were almost there.

I ate another half of a gel at mile 10.  That was just before the seven hour mark. Donna turned to me and said, "Do you think you can do a 5K in two hours?"  I smiled.  How amazing to have that much time before the cutoff.  We were weary but solid.  Ready to be done.  We came down off the bridge and hit mile 12.  Final mile - all down hill into the cheering crowds.  Should be cake, right?  Not so much.  I got incredibly dizzy.  Not queasy or nauseated - but like I was doing to fall off of my feet.  It was so strange!  My vision was swimmy.  I wasn't any more tired than I had been and I didn't feel like I was going to faint.  I simply felt like all of a sudden the loud world had started spinning.  I thought I might have to walk the finish.  I did end up running but I was none too steady.  But there were our people at last!  And cowbells (COWBELLS!) just for us!  And hugs and kisses and getting to stand still while soaking it all in.

POST RACE

In retrospect, I probably should have talked to a medical person, but I downed a couple of bottles of water and half of my Recoverite and stood still.  Then I felt better. The world stopped swirling.  I was anchored by the wonderfully heavy piece of bling around my neck.  I was buoyed by the love of the people around me.  I was elated.  When we did move it was over to the massage tent.  Woot!  For the first time I'd finished a race in time to get a massage.  (I know, I know - it's because there were gobs of iron people still out on the course - but still!)  We got our bags so I could put on my jacket.  I ate a small slice of pizza and drank the first beer I'd had in months.  (I gave up alcohol for training sometime this summer.)  I nursed that beer for most of the two and a half hours it took us to get back to the hotel.  I thought this race was incredibly well run - with the following two exceptions: there was zero security on the bikes at the end contrary to what they'd said at the beginning and the water taxi/trolley situation to get us from the finish site back across the river to the hotels/downtown did not work.  At all.  The volunteers were PHENOMENAL and the course was the best of all possible worlds - but those two things at the end were definite detractors.  We finally got back to the hotel and showered.  We grabbed some seafood at Elijah's for a recovery meal.  I had every intention of being back at the finish to cheer the iron peeps on at the end, but I couldn't face the thought of having to wait for hours to get back and forth across the river.  I was feeling like a total lame-o and was sad not to have met all of the bloggers I wanted to, especially IMAble (AKA Jayme - but I can't make the link to her blog work for some reason!)  She has been such an inspiration to me.  So much of her journey resonates with my experience and early on she answered a desperate, newbie email full of questions about nutrition.  Then, like magic, there she was in our elevator!  We recognized each other at the same time.  Turns out they were in the room right next to us.  (Not the one with the crying baby, the other one - directly across from the Marines.)  I'm sure it wasn't so magical for her, because she had to tell an elevator of strangers-turned-new-friends about her DNF.  She absolutely gave it her all out there.  She covered 127+ miles but her ITB/knee wouldn't let her get that second loop of the run finished in time.  We snapped this pic the next morning as we were all heading home: 

RECOVERY
I'm still working on how to recover well.  I got quite sick on the trip home (had to get John to pull over to a rest area so I could puke.)  The dizziness thing is still coming in waves.  (Weirdly it seems to be triggered by noise sometimes.)  I've had tons and tons of water so I know it's not a dehydration issue.  The kidneys are working fine and dandy.  My legs are sore but I slept soundly.  (In fact I napped through some of the Titans game which was a shame because we played well and won!)  I stretched today but we're going to wait until Wednesday to run.  And even then, it will be a nice, easy jog on the (flat!) Bolin Creek Trail.  This was an utterly amazing experience for me - an achievement to savor.  For all the words I've put out here, I haven't gotten to the heart of how dreaming this big, working this long, and accomplishing this much has changed me.  Peace - and congratulations to all my fellow B2B'ers and all the IMFL, MiamiMan,  and OBX marathon peeps. 

TODAY I LOVE: being part of the community of athletes

Capital City Classic 10K - May 9, 2009

Saturday morning we were up bright and early for the Capital City Classic 10K in Raleigh. It was my first standalone 10K and I may have mentioned I was oddly stressy about it. I had a hard time getting myself out the door - in part because registration for Team Sakina was online, limited to 30 women, and starting at about the same time as the race! (John sent our registrations in for us. Thanks honey!) I felt discombobulated - did I have my inhaler? Water? Gels? Body glide? Was I missing something?

(There is something unnerving to me about running races because once you're dressed, there's just not that much more to do to be ready! No bike to check, no transitions to plan for, no wetsuit or goggles to keep up with, etc. Weird.)

This 10K takes place in the heart of downtown Raleigh. In spite of the lack of directions on the website (the link didn't link anywhere - fail!), it was easy to find and park (for free in a parking garage that wasn't charging for the day - yay!) Packet pick up was inside the Sheraton and smooooth. Also? While there were a couple of porta-potties outside near the race start, I was all about using the nice hotel facilities. It had been a little breezy and slightly overcast but was clearing up (and heating up, dammit) just as the race started (later than advertised). Oh well. I had expected a much bigger crowd (possibly because the race had billed itself as friendly for beginning runners and walkers.) It looked like there were only about two hundred people. And almost all of them looked fast. Oh well.

For us this race was an extra training run (on top of an extra trail run we'd already thrown in on Thursday night) and we still had a big swim ahead of us that afternoon and a brick on Sunday. My goals were to enjoy the experience, see Raleigh in a new way, and to run the whole thing. Not to leave you in suspense, I accomplished a measley one out of three of my goals. Sadness.

The beginning of the course was interesting - winding past big, downtown churches and into great neighborhoods with jungley sidewalk gardens and huge, wraparound porches on display. The volunteers were fantastic and there were cops at every single intersection holding traffic and pointing the way. That was great. Our first couple of miles were fast (for us) - but they always are in races. The tightness and worry I feel starting out gave way in short order to a smooth pace and good rhythm. At mile 2 I snagged a cup from the water station. Donna was smart enough to grab two and pour one on her head. It was getting hot! I was wishing I'd gotten more than the dinky little two swallows but knew there'd be at least one more stop along the way. Mile 3 was a bit slower and mile 4 seemed to be entirely in the sun. There was one fantastic view of the city skyline as we ran over a highway overpass. Part of me wished I had my camera with me and part of me didn't give a flying ratfuck. That's a bad sign.

The heat was getting to me. I felt melty inside and my skin felt weird. I had to slow to a walk a couple of times to try to bring my heart rate down and feel better. I didn't feel better. I was looking forward to the water stop which we guessed would be at the 4 mile mark. It was! But when we got there - no water. WTF?! It was in the upper 80's or low 90's in a not-crowded race billed as beginner friendly - and they didn't bring out more than one cooler of water?? (Seriously - my son's lacrosse team of 20 boys always has three or four coolers of water. This race had one.) My bad attitude about the lack of water may have had something to do with me making a total newbie mistake to compound the issue. I took my gel when I saw the water station and all the cups. Calories and water get me through hot runs. Calories without water? NOT good. Feeling as bad as I already did from the heat, having ingested a gel with no water to chase it much less to rehydrate me, and knowing I was stuck for the rest of the race - sucked. Totally sucked. Note to self: no gel until the water is in hand!!!

I tried to re-set. I focused on smiling at the volunteers and thanking them. I sent D on ahead because even though it was hard for her, she was still running. I resigned myself to walking the rest of the way. I had chills on my skin but my insides were still boiling. My brain was hazy. I was mad at myself for not having my own water with me - though almost no one else in the race did either. I was disappointed and felt like a loser for not even being able to keep up a slow jog. But I was just too hot. And I was not about to get sick or fall and hurt myself by pushing hard in a race that essentially didn't matter! Still...loserdom. I finished in a terrible 1:19:something or other. I didn't care. It was minutes slower than my PacGrove Oly Tri 10K. I was not, however, DFL. There were at least 4 people behind me. The announcer called them the last finishers but later (like 5 minutes or more?) the announcer was talking about even more finishers coming in. I was too busy sucking down water and trying to adjust my attitude.

There were LOTS of people complaining about how challenging the course was and how hot it was. I did not add my voice. I'll admit though, it did make me feel a bit better when a local running star, Victor (who won the 10 miler last weekend) told me he'd gotten cramps and quit at mile 5. He said, "Some races are like that."**

I know this is long already so I'll say one last cranky thing. Since it's only the second year for this race, I was all set to cut the race directors slack (except for the water station fail). I thought "resourceful" instead of "tacky" when I noticed that they were using race numbers/timing chip holders with last year's date on them. I forgave the late start and lack of working links for important things like directions, parking and race photos. But I just saw that the "overall" race results end inexplicably at least 15 minutes before the last finishers crossed the line. I'm not in the results. Donna, who finished 5+ minutes ahead of me, isn't even in the results. Beginner and walker-friendly my ass!!

Saturday continued to be odd and disconcerting. It took me quite a few hours to feel like my body temperature was stable enough to attempt the swim workout. Then about three quarters of the way through our swim (just before my final descending 50's) it started getting really dark. I was still processing the fact that we must be swimming waaaaay slower than I thought for it to be getting dark already when the lifeguard pulled everyone out of the pool. Lightning flashed, thunder thundered, and the power flickered. Sweet. We did vindicate ourselves on Sunday, though. A Mother's Day Brick: we biked for 58 minutes (avg pace 13.3) and then ran for six miles - including warm up, cool down, and fartleks in the middle for speed work!! (mutter, mutter, stupid 10k, take that, mutter, no water mo-fos, muter, mutter)

And (last thing - I SWEAR!) we went to see Star Trek. It was fan-flippin-tastic! I loved every minute of it. It's a total must-see.

TODAY I LOVE: science fiction everything and fresh pineapple!

**I had the hardest time not responding to Victor with , "Even in Australia."

Philosopher's Way 7K Trail Race Report

Woo hoo! I ran a trail race! It was only my second ever trail run - and it was fantastic!! I have no idea what my "official" time was but my watch said 1:00 flat. (I didn't stop my watch at the water station or when I took pictures. Donna did stop hers so her watch says we managed 58:11. The official time is sure to be a bit more than an hour because it wasn't chip timed and it took us a bit to get to the line.) What a great race! And what super weather we had. Overcast and only in the upper 70's. Here are some pictures from the morning:

This is the 15K start. (We didn't do the 15K because aside from seeming like too much to bite off for a first trail race - we still have a 2100 yd swim and a 25 mile bike ride on the schedule for today.)

We were running on the mountain bike trails in the Carolina North forest so there were all kinds of coolie things along the way like this banked ramp.

They had PBR and pretzels at the water station. I LOVE trail races!!

Here we are at the water break. I carried my camera in my hand the whole time - so you can tell I wasn't terribly concerned with my time. I wanted to enjoy the experience and record what was different about trail racing from road racing.

Pretty much everything was different! There were rolling hills throughout. A few tougher climbs but mostly rolling, rolling, and winding. The above picture doesn't really do justice to this cute little curvy bump and tree bridge along the trail. I was fascinated by how different it feels to be in the forest. I got into a zone but it was an entirely different type of zone. For the first mile, we could hear the music from the "expo" area drifting over and through the trees. After that faded away, we heard each other - a little chatter, some huffing and puffing along the single track line, and the crunch and tramp of footfalls.

There was an entire glade of ferns at the bottom of one of the downhill curves. I love the lush mystery of ferns.

And rocks!! There were gorgeous rocks everywhere. Rocks make me happy. Seriously happy. At the start, we had chatted with a teacher Donna used to work with (Kirsten) and met some of her friends (Kristy and Blake) who were doing the race. Afterwards we compared notes about how great the race was and we might start our own training group! (Maybe even to include our dogs in some way.) How much fun is that?! This training and racing thing just keeps getting better and better! Peace.

TODAY LOVE: Mother Nature and the athletic community

**Hey RBR - look! I posted a race report on the very day I ran the race!!**

Valentine's Day And Beyond

Valentine's recap:

Family Stuff: Lots of fun was had. The kids played Little Big Planet - a wee, silly & chaotic video game. There are poppet figures and skate boards and stickers and a spaceship pod. Much laughter rang through the house. Saturday Angus had a gift certificate to KitchenWorks he wanted to spend. He is my guy who wants to be a chef. He got himself a blue knife, a blue mug with dogs and bones on it, and a blue mortar and pestle. (Do you know how hard it is to find blue stuff on a weekend where all the displays are red things? "Angus, Angus, quite contrary." It may not rhyme but it fits.)
Iain finally let me take a picture of him smiling with his braces showing. He's totally cute but don't you think he looks like a total redneck in this picture?

We ate yummy heart-shaped food. These are Donna's special iced oatmeal cookies. They were gone in a flash. (Which is a good thing because they are not Zone friendly!)
We also had Valentine's empanadas:
Some were stuffed with chicken and some with beef but my favorites were stuffed with spinach:
The empanadas were especially fun to do because it involved re-connecting with a high school pal of mine who has returned to the US after living in Peru for four years. She now writes a blog and posts recipes of South American food to about.com.

Job Stuff: John is still waiting to hear about the next round of interviews. It is nerve-wracking to wait in silence but we found out his references are being checked. Yay! There is forward momentum.

Training Stuff: things have been going well. We had a great five mile run. It's amazing what sleep and good nutrition will do for you! I got my five hours in last week and am on track to get my five hours in this week. I feel focused and committed. The consistency is building. Good thing! The first phase of our official half iron plan starts on Monday. I've gotten all the pieces in place (I think) except for figuring out the exercises listed for the speed workouts at the track. I had planned to work on that this week but with the return of cold, dark, rainy days - that's a no go.

Racing Stuff: I think we are not going to do the Country Music Half Marathon after all. It's $100 this year! There is a half marathon in High Point, NC the next week for half that. I'll run on my own for the week I'm in Nashville and then come home and do the more affordable, local(ish) race.

Random Stuff: Do you ever do things that bug you? I catch myself rinsing out water bottles before putting them in the recycling bin. I go to take off my shoes and they are double-knotted. Why?! I mean, I know I am the one who tied them, but I'm not four. I can retie my own shoes if they come undone - which they don't. Having them double knotted is pointless and way more irritating than helpful. I'm working so hard on living and moving through the world intentionally and yet... Oh well. Progress, not perfection, right?

Guess What We Just Registered For?!

So excited! So nervous! There is a part of me that cannot believe I've registered for my first half iron distance triathlon on a day that I couldn't possibly run a mile. (I did do my push ups though.) I am sick and my chest feels hollow and yucky, but I have to believe that I have plenty of time to get well and train. Eleven months. That's doable. It damn well better be!

Triathlon At Pacific Grove - 9/13/08

I wasn't sure I was going to be able to write this race report. I have no words for much of what this race meant and continues to mean to me. But there are parts that I want to put out there - to share and to record in case I forget. In the interest of the quick read, here are the numbers for my first olympic distance triathlon:

Swim - 39:28
T-1 - 6:45
Bike - 1:44:52 (14.22 mph)
T-2 - 4:57
Run - 1:17:00
Total Time - 3:53:04

PRE RACE THINGS:

Putting our bikes back together in the hotel parking lot. That worked out okay.

Well, except for the part where my new best friend Hector of Winning Wheels checked Vivian over and said there were a few teensy things that needed to be fixed. Or replaced. Or recalibrated. Or put back in true. Dammit. (Thank you, thank you, thank you Hector for squeezing us in and making sure we had safe rides! Don't know what we would have done without you.)

The three of us (Lizichka, me, and Donna) at the pre-race meeting. Asking questions - even after attending the training clinic and reading everything on the website and in the registration packets. Can you say nervous neophyte racers?


One of the questions we asked was, "We have to swim to the SECOND line of buoys?! Are you sure?" Holy cow that looks a lot further out than we expected.


One of the things we were told was, "Don't worry. Most of those rocks will be covered by the tide at race time." Oh goodie. You know, I hadn't really thought about the rocks until the guy went on and on about it. I'd thought about the kelp and the otters and how far away the freaking buoys were and about sharks and the distinct possibility of getting stuck in my wetsuit, but not so much the chance of clanging into a rock.

THE SWIM: (1.5 K - 39:28)

Lizichka and I waving to John right before our swim start. Donna and the RBR girls are already in the water. Our wave was 15 minutes after theirs. A few quick things about the race start: I was not as "nervous" as I thought I'd be. There is usually a certain amount of dread involved in the feeling of "nervous" for me. That Saturday morning - after a year of training and half a lifetime of healing - I stood on that beach excited - not dreading anything. I had no idea how the day would go but it didn't really matter at that point. It was going to go - one way or another and I was ready to see how it would be. As we stood waiting for our turn, a woman Lizichka had been warming up with plucked a clinging kelp frond from Lizichka's shoulder. Then she waved it around and touched it to L's forehead as a blessing. The kelp benediction. It was such a small, silly moment, but it stands out to me as one I definitely want to remember. I love being in the midst of women and their energy.

Did I mention that we had to do two big triangular laps around those buoys? Or that in between the two laps we had to get out of the water and run around a big rock? The swim was harder for me than I expected. I hadn't warmed up enough for my body to acclimate to the cold water. I didn't feel cold but I had a very hard time breathing. My chest wouldn't expand and I couldn't get enough air. Finally, I scrapped all attempts at bi-lateral breathing (which was making me queasy in spite of the dramamine I'd taken) and settled into a good zone. I kept thinking, "This is happening. I'm here. I'm in the water. THIS water - the water that saved me. And I'm strong. This is happening!" It was cool. Until the very end of the first lap when a boat went by and the wake rolled in against the lower key tidal surge. Up, down, sideways, backward, up, down. Suddenly I was terribly, horribly nauseated. I hauled myself out of the water and around the rock, wondering if there was any way I could feel this bad and still swim another loop. When that picture was snapped I was thinking, "Oh God if I puke here everyone will run through it and hate me. You have to get around the rock, get around the rock, get around the rock and out of the way before you can hurl !!" I forced myself back in the water. While I wasn't "fine", I was much better and had a strong second lap. (I never did puke. Yay!)

T-1: (6:45)
I'm sure that's slow but I'm fine with it. I did it safely and there was a lot to navigate. I had to run up the beach and then some stairs and a ramp and down to the end row and then figure out how to get my wetsuit the rest of the way off and the warmish bike clothes on and then back out across the timing mat.

THE BIKE: (40K - 1:44:52)

That's RBR's run buddy in the pink right in front of me in the picture. You'd think I'd have been grateful to get on my bike but you'd be wrong. Biking is my limiter. It's mechanical and technical - two things I struggle with. Overall though - the bike was strong. It was a looped course so we got to go by our cheering section many times. We also got to wave at each other a bunch. It was fun to get to cheer and encourage each other when we were all at different paces. I'm not fast but I was steady in spite of a few challenges. I had to dodge a pigeon who was squatting in the center lane on the turn around by the announcer. The damfool thing CHARGED me as I wheeled around the curve. Stupid bird. The spectators got a kick out of it.

Then I hadn't secured my race number to my bike properly and I kept slicing my leg on the edge of it. Papercuts - who knew you had to worry about that on the bike? I tried to hold my leg at an angle but then it rubbed on the edge of my bento box. Clearly I needed to make some seat adjustments or something but I didn't want to stop and fiddle with all that. I did ask one of the officials if I could rip off my number but they said that would disqualify me. Stupid number. I got into the tough chica zone I suppose because I finally stopped worrying about the blood streaming down my leg and concentrated on pedaling evenly.

T-2: (4:57)
I felt like I was moving quickly in transition but even without a wetsuit I guess it just takes me a while. One negative: I discovered that someone had taken my Accel-Gel out of my shoe. Isn't that crazy?! What kind of triathlete steals another's nutrition?! (I needed that one dammit! It's the one with protein in it that I save for the second half of my run!) Oh well. Move on! Keep smiling! Keep thanking the volunteers! Keep enjoying the spectators like this one:

THE RUN: (10K - 1:17:00)

Yay! I finished! I walked some but I still beat my goal by seven minutes! I met a guy out on the course who was running with his brother, his stem cell donor. They ran it together to celebrate having a second chance at life. It was pretty motivating.


Here we are with our finisher's medals! (Lizichka, me, RBR, Donna, and RBR's LA Run Buddy)

AFTERS PARTY:

Here are a few pictures from Bullwhacker's down on Cannery Row - where we went for supper and to celebrate the day. I couldn't believe it was still there. (Twenty years ago we used to drink quite a few too many mudslides there and then try to navigate walking back up to the Presidio.) A special thanks to our beloved Sherpa John who was part paparrazi, part cheerleader, part pack mule, and all sunburned and worn out by the end of the day!

This triathlon represents tremendous growth and healing and change for me. I faced old trauma and celebrated my ability to create a new life for myself. I gained confidence by working for a specific goal over a long time and achieving it. I made fantastic, new friends in the process and renewed the friendships that got me through hell the first time I was out there.

AND I managed to write a race report about two months to the day after the fact! I have to say that I'm finally ready to let this sucker go: