Getting my Attention

This week, Rocky Mountain Institute staff were invited to join teams from a few other local organizations whose missions center around environmental issues, for a screening of the new film,  An Inconvenient Sequel: Truth to Power.  My boss had warned me “it’s not an uplifting film,” and he was right.  Still, an important one and I’m glad I saw it.

You may remember Al Gore’s first movie in 2006 on climate change, which I never saw .  Why didn’t I see it?  It was because of one of several reasons that, in my opinion, so many people don’t seem to care much about climate change or environmental issues in general:

1.     They don’t believe the science or feel like the media is just making a big deal over nothing.  (That one's getting harder to justify, IMO)

2.     They acknowledge that the science is valid and the threat probably real but

a.     They are too attached to their comfortable lifestyle

b.     They don’t feel like anything they might do would make a significant difference so why bother?

3.     They hear random bits of information but just really aren’t paying enough attention to fully understand.  (yep, this was me before joining    RMI a year ago - largely oblivious to a lot of  it)

My role on the RMI team is to develop systems to support the important work done by my exceptional colleagues working all around the world.  They are a diverse mix of world-class scientists, engineers and architects, as well as experts in political, social and financial issues. They inspire me every single day with their brilliant minds and deep passion.  As a nonprofit, RMI operates very lean – there’s certainly no one working here for the money – and our support comes primarily from people and organizations who believe in our mission to help create a cleaner, safer and more secure planet Earth.

The current political environment obviously doesn’t value environmental issues and this is a cycle we’ll just have to ride out.  Fortunately though, there are still many companies, cities/states/municipalities, and individuals in the US and the world whose priorities have not changed – here are some of them going public with that pledge  http://wearestillin.com/.  This is reason for hope for humanity.

But here’s my main takeaway on the larger picture, two days later -

Post movie conversation among my colleagues included talk about personal responsibility and personal opportunity for service, and it wasn’t just about climate change issues.  It was about the chance we all have every day to serve our communities and our brothers and sisters, to be kind and positive influences, particularly amidst the various factors generating turmoil these days.  Individuals matter, and together we can do a lot – globally and one-on-one.   In George HW Bush’s terminology, “A thousand points of light.”  In Mother Teresa’s words, “Small things with great love.”

Climate change doesn’t inspire you?  That’s ok.  Listen the voice from your unique soul and go out and make a small difference in the world, with whatever it is that does make you feel alive and happy.  Chances are, you can make someone else feel that way too - setting off that beautiful butterfly effect.

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Return to Lake to Lake Triathlon

This past weekend I raced my second sprint triathlon so far on this “re-set” year, stepping away from long course, seeking a more sane balance of life, career, family/friends and training.  I’m training a ton less than previous years.

Racing sprints couldn’t be more different than racing Ironman.  I never thought I was suited for short-course, as I’ve got an endurance engine that can chug along all day long, but haven’t ever really worked with the goal of going short and fast.  Sprint races hurt from the first moment until you cross the finish line.  But on the plus side, they are over a heckuva lot faster.

My stress level was through the roof waiting to start the swim on Saturday, as is usually the case when I'm getting ready to jump into an open body of water.  My heart is pounding, I keep reminding myself to breathe. I look around me and see most everyone else chatting and laughing, but I just want to get this done and can’t seem to relax.  Water is 68 degrees, we hear.

Once we got started, I was able to get out of my head and dispel that nervous energy by just swimming.  The swim was congested and I found myself having to swim around people a lot, hence the usual zigzag outline of my swim got even more so.  I’m in a sleeveless wetsuit and by the time I’m done swimming, I’m getting cold.  My swim time wasn’t as bad as I expected, 2^nd fastest in my age group(clearly no swimmers in my age group) – I’ve had worse  swims – but there were those few times that I’ve had much better too. 

LOOOOONG 300m run up to Transition.  Hands cold, breathing very hard, fumbling miserably to get the wetsuit off.  I’m cold, so I took the time to throw on a light cycling jacket, which I heard flapping every mile of the ride(ugh!).  First transition time was OVER 4 minutes.  Wow.

Decent ride, fastest time in my age group.  Nice relatively flat course but I thought it was quite unsafe as we were riding right beside traffic on a highway and often there was NO room to pass other cyclists without going outside the cones.  Second transition minutes faster than my first one that day. So a slight win there.

I do love to run.  I always remind myself of that fact no matter how awkward those first few steps of a triathlon run feel.  After last year’s injury and training feeling somehow off this year, I’ve lost touch a bit with that beautiful feeling of running.   But once in awhile I’ll have a portion of a run that flows and feels familiar as something that is a labor of love.   Little by little and often when least expected, these moments seem to be returning.

Finished the race feeling quite depleted as Warren met me at the finish line, but felt much better 5 minutes later.  Second fastest run in my age group, resulting in age group second place - podium finish.  That should feel satisfying, right?

This morning I read a Facebook post from my friend Eliza where she expressed disappointment in her race that same day and it made me wonder why I wasn’t happier with my outcome.  Was it because it sure wasn’t pretty?  Was it because “it’s just a sprint distance race,” and since I’ve defined myself as an Ironman for so long, this should be relatively effortless?  (Believe me, I know better than that!)

I think it’s a shift in my head that I haven’t fully made yet, of learning to get better at a totally different game and with new self-imposed life-balance rules.  I know I can stay in shape doing just short distance races, especially if I make time to do that strength work that tended to fall off the Ironman training week when time got short.  Warren and I took the day off training the day after this race and had a perfectly LOVELY day together going to breakfast, buying a new refrigerator, getting house and yard work done and enjoying a glass of wine that evening.  Blew off a day of training in search of life balance - Worth it.

While it feels good to make the podium in a race, and let’s be honest, it’s definitely self-validation and a shot to one’s ego.  My fellow athletes standing with me at the water’s edge race day were having a lot more fun that I was at that moment and most were judging themselves a lot less harshly when the day was over. 

The desire to excel is an honorable thing but it’s so easy to let that ego to have a life of its own, in a way that may not reflect who you feel like you are as a person. I’m more and more grateful every year for a body that’s healthy and allows me to be an athlete.  I realize that my mind and spirit have expanded with the experiences of almost 25 years of multisport training and racing.  My own challenge is not let my ego and fear of failure overshadow the good stuff of life, which matters a lot more and to which I'm committed to finding the time to embrace.

Today I celebrate 60 years on this earth.  I graduated a year early in high school, so most all my childhood friends crossed this portal before me, but here I am! What an amazing journey this life continues to be, and I’m learning some great lessons along the way.  I thought I’d write some of them down as I reflect sitting here in the sunshine on January 1 by the ocean in Mexico.  And thank you, my dearest Warren, for making this birthday extra special with this trip!

In my experience, when you reach a certain age, you have to keep reminding yourself that you aren’t that young anymore - because it doesn’t seem possible that you are the age that your parents and grandparents were when you thought they were ancient.  I think it’s totally true that how you feel about your life and your perspective on the world is infinitely more important than the number of birthdays you’ve survived.  

• Pay attention to what’s around you, because most of us are sleepwalking through life.  (Technology and being online 24/7 unfortunately makes this worse).  Look people in the eye and be present to really see and hear their words and their thoughts. And, chances are pretty good that everything you need or want is already in your world.  You just need to get to the place in your heart and your head and your awareness, where you have the ability to actually see it.   

• Everyone has a story about their life that will break your heart, even those who seem to have it all, or who appear to just be mean - that didn’t come from nowhere. We all carry emotional wounds that may be buried deep inside - they make us who we are and make us behave in our habitual ways.  So we should all be just a little more kind and compassionate toward each other - as well as look inward and try to sort through things that are holding us back.

• We spend most of our time bouncing back and forth in our head between reliving the past or worrying about the future.  Stay right here and now - it’s the only place that’s real, anyway.

• Little things are little things.  Let them be that, and let them go.  As a matter of fact, most things are little things. 

• Sometimes the best thing you can do is to stop and just breathe.  So simple and re-sets your whole body.

• Find the thing in your life that lights you up when you think about doing it - and you will be great at it.

• People tend to show you who they are by their actions more than their words.  Pay attention to that - it’s a great indicator of future actions as well.

• People you care about will disappoint you in ways big and small - count on it.  It is what it is, and though it’s so hard NOT to take it personally, it just shows you a little more about who they are as a person.  It serves you to forgive them, because you carrying that anger and resentment is like re-living the hurtful event so they continue to hurt you again and again.  Even if the person at fault never shows remorse, you can still choose to let it go and move on.  Very liberating if you can do it, otherwise it can hinder you emotionally for your whole life if you let it.  

• You can fake most anything, but the real you is so much better.  Don’t be afraid to really show up and let yourself be seen.  You are unique….shine with that light that is yours and yours alone.

• Look at the things that scare or intimidate you and ask yourself if they are real threats or just noise in your head.  If you can get control of that noise, you can adopt a whole new mindset of possibility.

• If there’s something you feel in your heart you are here to do - go after it 100% and don’t let anyone talk you out of it.  Listen to your small voice inside that keeps nudging you on.

• Hindsight is a great lens.  So many times I’ve been bummed out about something big or small - and looked back later and saw how it was a bridge to something better, or a lesson I needed to learn to grow.

• Gratitude is a mindset worth cultivating.  Everyone has something to be grateful for.  Find some of those things and soon you’ll be finding more.

• We are all connected on the most basic level.  We all carry the essence of God, and both pain and joy of mankind as a whole can be felt universally.  You can’t hurt or lift up someone else without that action having the same affect on you.

• Happiness is a choice.  In the world in which most of us live, we are blessed with food, shelter and a safe environment - yet Americans are generally not as happy as so many in the world that have far less.  Our default behavior is to obsess over what we think is missing in our lives or constant comparison of ourselves to others.  I’ve been guilty of this, but it takes much less to make me happy these days, and making the choice to be happy has changed my life in a profound way. 

• My children are amazing human beings and I’m deeply proud of them both.  It’s very cool to watch as they evolve as adults.  Their personalities are quite different, yet alike in so many ways.  I look forward to the day I get to be their childrens’ grandma.  :-)   I’m so grateful as well for the rest of my family - my mom and my brothers and their families - and Warren’s dad and sister and our nieces - and all my extended family as well.  We people from the South get stereotyped a lot, but I couldn’t be more proud of where I come from.  My friends and family down there are what we call “good people,”  and while I differ from them ideologically in many ways, there are still deep roots that will be there forever. 

• It’s way too easy to fill up one’s time and get so busy, failing to make enough time for friends, fun and spontaneity.  Between Ironman training and work and other things I’ve taken on along the way, I’ve fallen into this trap for years.  I’m done making that choice and resolve to prioritize differently going forward.

• I recognized Warren as the love of my life pretty quickly after we met - which was by accident and the circumstances pointed toward fate.  After spending 32 years with him, I’m more in love with this special man than ever.  Marriage isn’t ever going to be perfect all the time - it’s often difficult and of course we’ve had our challenges - who hasn’t?  But he still makes me laugh every day. What else makes the relationship so special?…a strong friendship, mutual respect, faith in and support for each other and in our family.  It’s what grounds me and from where I draw much of my strength.

• I’ve chosen to be a triathlete and have pursued it somewhat obsessively over the past 20 or so years.  Coming from a totally non-athletic background, it taught me a lot about what I was capable of; about believing in myself; about my potential as a physical being and about mental toughness.  Of course at the end of the day, it’s just recreation at my level - but I would highly encourage anyone to find something that will challenge you enough to nudge you out of that comfort zone.  You are probably stronger than you think, mentally and physically - and experiencing personal breakthroughs is incredibly empowering and life-affirming.  I still enjoy the process of training and competing - and now learning how to be a better masters athlete.

• I once heard someone describe his life goal in this way, and it really resonated with me as a guiding principle… “To be a beneficial presence on the planet.”  Such remarkable opportunities to serve have come my way and it’s a huge blessing and privilege to continue this work in whatever form it takes in the future.  My contributions have been modest so far, but as Mother Teresa said, “not all of us can do great things, but we can all do small things with great love.” 

2014 - Bring it on

My last blog post was ....geez ..... September?  I'm clearly a bit behind on this and a few other things.

Work has been very busy for the past few months - which is good - be careful what you wish for, right?  But gears have now shifted... to exciting new work projects in a whole new arena.  I turn my attention to a renewed focus on training for the new year of triathlon racing, while getting in touch with my body and my strength again. I am also excited about re-connecting to things important to me - family, friends and causes I'm passionate about. And about finding ways to bring all those things together again with new adventures.

When this picture was taken at Ironman Canada last year, I was in that great happy place in my head, and had a decent level of fitness.  While that one turned out to be far from the race of my life, it's a really good place to begin the journey again, hopefully with the growing wisdom of lessons learned.

Here we go....

"Fall seven times, get up eight."  - Japanese Proverb

I needed to let a few days pass after completing Ironman Canada in Whistler last weekend, so I could process the experience in my head. When you have a great race, it's easy to just bask in the accomplishment - but when you have a disappointing race day, it's helpful to step back and reflect on the lessons.

I can’t say enough good things about the race.  It takes place in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been, with stunning mountain scenery, beautiful lakes and a community with Canadian charm.  The village of Whistler has seen its share of world-class athletic events, including the winter Olympics and Paralympics in 2010, and they know how to welcome and support athletes.  The volunteers were numerous, enthusiastic and extremely helpful. In my opinion, the race organization and execution was flawless.

I arrived on Wednesday evening before the race scheduled for Sunday.  Flying into Seattle seemed like a good idea when I was making plans, but it was a long drive through Bellingham and Vancouver and finally to Whistler. From Vancouver to Whistler, the route follows the Sea to Sky highway, and overlooks the Sound with breathtaking views.  Warren had business in Boston that week, so wasn’t flying in til Friday night, so I was on my own for a couple of days.

On Thursday, my Ironman Foundation teammates and I got together to do our community service project, going door-to-door with out “Knock Out Hunger” campaign to raise awareness and encourage donations to the Whistler Food Bank.  We also provided them with financial support to further assist their cause.  On Thursday night, we partnered with a local restaurant called CreekBread with a benefit fundraiser, and they were kind enough to donate $435 to the IRONMAN Foundation based on a percentage of their sales that evening.  We are very grateful for their support, and hope to plan a similar event for IRONMAN Canada in 2014.  I also have a ton of gratitude to my friends and family who supported me and helped me raise $2,510 for the IRONMAN Foundation’s work in Whistler and other communities who host IRONMAN races.  You guys really came through for me, and it means a lot!

Also on Thursday I went to see the Active Release Therapy(ART) guys at the Ironman Expo, to have some work done on a pesky glute/hamstring issue that had annoyed me most of the season.    

The weather was perfect the first couple of days, but had turned chilly and rainy on Friday, causing a bit of concern as to how dangerous it would be to have to ride the hills and technical turns of the bike course if the roads were wet, or if it was actually raining.  However, it did clear up late Saturday night - so the only negative result was dropping the temperature of the lake from about 72 on Friday to 65 degrees for race day.  No question about the race being wetsuit legal, which always puts my mind at ease.

On Saturday morning, we had a Team photo shoot, taking advantage of the amazing scenery of Whistler. 

Got a decent night’s sleep on Saturday night, then it was Race Day!  

Race Day:
I set the alarm for 3:30am so that I'd have time to eat 3 hours ahead of entering the water.   Warren had a VIP pass so he was able to ride the athlete bus with me to the lake and come into the transition area to pump my bike tires....which was wonderful - one less thing to stress over!  

The Swim:

The lake had a layer of fog/mist sitting on top of it, but it was very still and calm - unlike the very choppy waters I’d experienced when swimming there on Friday when it was very windy.  I was remarkably calm going into the water, more so than I’ve been for any of my other 7 Ironman races.  While I am still a slow swimmer, I’m usually no longer a frightened swimmer in open water.  I've come a long way there.

I positioned myself to the far right to stay away from the more aggressive swimmers who were closer to the buoys.  I entered the water to warm up about 15 minutes before we started, but soon I was getting cold and starting to shiver, so maybe that was too early.  When the gun went off, it was welcome relief to at least be moving more to generate more body heat.

The swim course is two loops in a rectangular shape, counterclockwise - total of 2.4 miles.  In the first loop, I felt like I was swimming ok, but not yet feeling all that great.  The way Ironman courses are set up, they conveniently number the buoys so you can always get an idea of where you are relative to the distance still left on that stretch.  My strategy is to swim one buoy at a time.  Right at the end of my first loop, I started seeing guys in blue swim caps flying past me - which were the professionals leading the race who had started 15 minutes before the age groupers.  It's always a little demoralizing to get "lapped," no matter what the circumstances.  But, as I started my second loop, I felt like I had found my rhythm and was sure I was swimming better and faster. 

I was also starting to get cold in the water late in the last lap, which happens sometimes since I’m out there in the water longer than most.  I came out of the water thinking I had had a decent swim, but glancing at my watch, was disappointed to see that I was at 1:44.  That’s 7 minutes slower than my fastest Ironman swim time in Arizona in 2011.   My goal had been to swim under 1:30. I learned later that I was #32 out of 36 in my age group after the swim. Geez! First low point of the day right there.

At Ironman races, they have “wetsuit strippers” - people waiting to rip your wetsuit off your body as you lay on the ground.  It’s great because you don’t have to struggle to get the “sausage suit” off by yourself.  Once my wetsuit was off, I headed to the women’s change tent, shivering and unable to feel my feet and hands.

Since the weather was chilly in the morning, I had decided to wear a swimsuit under my wetsuit and planned to quickly take it off and put on dry cycling shorts and a tri top and bike jersey, so as not to be even colder riding in wet clothes on the bike.  They have volunteers in the change tent to help the athletes get in and out of there in a hurry but unfortunately the kind volunteer who was helping me really didn’t have any idea how to help a triathlete and was kind of more "in my way" than helpful.  My hands were still numb which made getting swimsuit off and other clothes on a big challenge.  They were handing me cups of hot water to drink to warm up - seemed like a good idea at the time but drinking warm water is kinda icky.  My T1 time was a ridiculous 12+ minutes.  Right after I got on my bike I had to pull off for a minute or two to adjust my orthotic in my shoe....another couple of minutes wasted.  

Off to a rocky start already.  

The Bike:

The 112 mile bike course was a beast.  The good news is that it wasn’t raining, and for the time being, it wasn’t windy.  The course included over 4,300 feet of climbing, but the worst part was that the last 15 miles was almost all climbing, and there is typically a stiff headwind on that stretch.  So just when your legs are the most fatigued, you still have some of the most intense work remaining.  

The bike course started in Whistler and looped out to Callaghan Valley for lots of climbing, then back through Whistler and out the opposite direction toward the town of Pemberton, for lots more climbing before a nice stretch of flats for about 30 miles, but then back to the gnarly hills to get back home to Whistler.  

I knew the ride was hilly, but I underestimated the difficulty and the toll it would take on my legs, and the nutrition that would be needed to put forth that kind of effort.  I also somehow lost all my salt tabs from my bike Bento bag, which I was counting on to help me absorb my nutrition I had brought along. But not so tragic, as I was able to supplement the nutrition I had brought along with more from the aid stations.  Fortunately it didn’t cause any GI issues.  Many athletes in an Ironman race will pee in their shorts so they don’t have to stop at a porta-john.  This was the first Ironman I’ve done that I did NOT do this.  I actually stopped to take care of business at the halfway point of the bike.  Not sure why....I guess I figured I’d lost so much time already, might as well take a minute to keep my shorts dry and be more comfortable the last 56 miles.  And maybe I wouldn't get all chafed this time.  

I had hoped to ride this bike course around 6 hours 30 minutes - but it took me 7 hours 24 minutes.   I feel like I could have maybe gone 7:15, had it not been for a really annoying ocular migraine that kicked in with about 10 miles left to ride.   I’ve had these several times in long races, near the end of the bike ride - apparently due to the sun.  If you’ve never had one, it’s not usually painful, but changes your vision to where you see wavy lines, double images and can’t make out detail well.  So, I was having trouble seeing the lines or other markings on the road and where there might be potholes, etc.  My strategy was to stay behind other cyclists and trust that they were taking a line that was safe and obstacle-free.  Though I was feeling stronger in the last few miles of the bike, I didn't feel comfortable passing because I needed someone to “chart the course” for me on the road so I could follow. Very annoying!  Fortunately the situation eased off after I started running and my vision cleared up.

At the end of the bike, I had moved up to #23 in my age group.  Small victory. :-)

The Run:

Dashed into T2, pulled off the bike shorts, pulled on the tri shorts, zipped OFF the bike jersey I wore over my tri top, grabbed hat, changed shoes, hit the portajohn.  Off to run but I was anything but smooth and flying.

A hard bike ride takes a lot out of one’s legs. The run course was 2 loops of rolling hills on dirt paths, asphalt paths and a few brick/concrete stretches.  We had been told to watch out for bears.  (yes, really!  black bears - adorable!)  Warren said that when I headed out to run, I didn’t look so great.  I didn’t feel so great.  But typically I start to feel better as the miles go by, so I was hopeful it would get better.  It did, but it took more miles than usual for that to happen.  I started out running a 9 minute mile which eroded into 10 then 11 minute miles.  My problematic glute/hamstring that had been troubling for a few months had been stressed for sure on the bike and was definitely sore, but it was manageable so far.  I took a few Advil when I reached the 13 mile point -(yes, I know, ibuprophen is ill-advised when racing....) and that helped take the edge off, allowing me to relax into getting a more fluid stride and pick up the cadence.   
Five or six times during the day, I’d take a step on one leg or the other and find it to be completely numb due to a random nerve being out of whack - but a couple of steps later it was fine.  It’s a wierd thing that comes and goes when I’m running long - I was just hoping not to fall down in the process.

The crowd support on the run was amazing!  Saw lots of familiar faces - both athletes and friends cheering on the course.  Our friends Josh and Lisa had driven up from Vancouver to watch the race and Josh ran along with me for a short stretch - he has one of the most outgoing, outrageous and fun personalities of anyone I know - and he gave me a huge boost when I was feeling lousy out there - thanks Josh!  

Warren was riding all around the bike course on a mountain bike borrowed from Josh, so he kept appearing all over the place, which I really looked forward to.  Having lost all my salt tabs I’d planned to use on the bike, I quickly went through the salt tabs I’d planned for the run - so Warren quickly biked all the way back to the condo to get me more - then met me on the run course to give them to me.  To say that he was “there for me” and “incredibly helpful and supportive”  doesn’t do justice to how awesome he was as my support team that day and all the months, weeks and days leading up to the race.  I love ya, Babe!  

I had hoped for a daylight finish, but with my dismal swim and bike splits, that wasn’t possible.  On the positive side, I finally found my run groove by mile 19 or 20 and I found myself smiling and totally loving life.  In fact, the last miles of my race were my quickest.  Maybe I should look in to ultra marathons....  

My final finish time was 14:33:28, 16th in my age group.  So I picked up another 7 places on the run.   Another small victory.

I did Ironman Canada in Penticton 5 years ago with a time that was very mediocre.  I finished my race this year in Whistler in a time that is only 4 minutes faster.  I believe this bike course was more challenging than Penticton, and others seem to agree.  Whistler is a race of strength and power; once again my performance indicates that I am still short on both, and that endurance alone isn’t enough to do well especially on a course like this one.  Tim Reed said that "you rarely see Ironman athletes that are built like marathoners bike well." Racing now with a 58-year old body, that becomes even more true for me, as building and keeping a strong muscular body gets even harder every year. But yet, it gets more important each year as well.

The Lessons:

1 - I read that if your "off-the-bike" run is not close to your straight run performance, then the problem is usually that you aren't strong enough on the bike, specifically muscular endurance. 

2 - I didn't do enough of the right kind of bike training.  I should have done more long rides, and lots of riding with tons of climbing.  So, my training should be more customized to the course I'll be racing.  I don't really enjoy riding all that much, so I tend to do the minimum of what is required, and certainly didn't do any extra riding just for fun.  I need to commit mentally as well as physically to training on the bike, and maybe consider training with a Powermeter.  I have a computrainer, but training outdoors would be optimal with power.

3 - I wasn't as mentally strong as I should have been on the bike.  I caved in and panicked a bit knowing that things weren't going as planned, and there was so much of the day left.  I was able to re-group mentally, but had to do it many times during the ride and run.  Next time, I need to be more present to do what I can with the power of the present moment.

4 - It's possible to bounce back after things have gone south in a race, even if it's in the last 5 miles.  Never give up hope that this will happen, and that I WILL get through this.

5 - I live to race another day.  With each passing day after this race, I was mentally beating myself up a little more.  I even went through a discussion in my head that this was my last triathlon ever.  ("Maybe I'll just be a runner, since that's the part of training and racing that I always enjoy.  My cycling and swimming still need tons of work and I'm so bored with them...")  But then I kind of got over myself, and just let this race be what it was.  I reminded myself that an Ironman finish is something to be proud of, even if it's not your fastest ever. And I've learned so much on this journey of becoming a triathlete, especially an Ironman triathlete - certainly I'm not done with the journey yet.  

I'm now done with my disappointment tantrum.  I have even swam several times in the past two weeks - without a race on the calendar to give me incentive for doing it.  I just love the water(belief fosters reality, right?). :-) 

Boulder Peaking

Every year when I am crafting my race calendar, it's hard not to include the Boulder Peak Triathlon.  It's a great hometown tradition, Olympic distance(1500m swim, 40K bike and 10K run).  This year I competed for the 7th time.  Today I pulled up my finish times since I first raced it in 2003, and noted that with a finish time of 3:16:03 that year, I've improved my go at this course by at least 20 minutes in recent years.  Training with consistency and focus does seem to lead to improvement. :-)  Hmmm.

My slowest swim there was in 03 - a ridiculous 47:26 for 1500 meters, and my best is 35:20, which was last year.  Still way slower than most of you triathletes and light years slower than you swimmers.  However, the days of those 47 minute swims for me often included multiple panic attacks, holding on to rescue watercraft and/or moments spent treading water while I tried to re-group and calm myself.  If you've had open water fear, I totally know where you're coming from.  My advice is to learn how to manage your head in the water, because chances are your body would be just fine if you could just calm the panic voices between your ears.  You gotta just keep putting yourself out there.  It does get easier if you just stick with it, promise. 

So a quick recap of the day yesterday, the 2013 Boulder Peak.  This was a "B" race for me, and I was out to have a good strong training day and see where I am with regard to training on the way to Ironman Canada Whistler in late August.  And a decent finish place in my age group would be nice too.

Swim:  new self-seeding rolling swim start means you place yourself in the starting group of swimmers who will be swimming about your same speed.  I thought I would like this, since for me when age groups start together regardless of their swim ability, it's always a matter of time before the next wave of swimmers catches up to me.  Often it's an age group with lots of male aggressive swimmers, who have no problem just swimming right over top of you or throwing you an elbow or a kick.  Not a fun scenario. So this swim start scenario was better, but it was quite congested the whole way, with swimmers who were both slower and faster than me.  Lots of them seemed to be swimming zigzag patterns, so hard to get a rhythm in the first half of the swim.  My swim time was about 30 seconds slower than last year, but I was feeling like I was swimming pretty smooth and strong and I was hoping that it would be faster.  Oh well - that's kind of my pattern...THINKING I'm swimming well but at the end the clock says "nay nay."

On my way up Old Stage hill

Bike: the dreaded climb up Old Stage hill is the trademark of Boulder Peak Triathlon.  It's a 600’ vertical climb in 2/3 of a mile, a 15% grade. Brutal.  I had only climbed it a few times this year, and was wishing a few days earlier than I'd done  it a couple more. Anyway, there was tons of support from friends lining the road going up, and that ALWAYS helps the effort.  Honestly, I'd much rather be climbing than descending, so the 35-40mph flying down the other side scares me a LOT more than the killer climb up.  Tried to do minimal braking on the way down, and really enjoyed the rest of the bike ride.  If you want to get an idea of what it's like to go up and over Old Stage hill on a bike, check out this video:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btLTxM0CZoc  

Run: my instructions from my coach Tim Reed were to try to negatively split the run.  Epic fail on this unfortunately.  First mile was 8:11, second mile was 8:20 and miles 3,4 and 5 must have been slower, based on my average mile split of 8:46.   I walked through a couple of aid stations so I lost some time there, but I do know that mile 6 was quicker again as I focused only on quick turnover and trying to keep my form as perfect as possible.  (if you've seen me run, you know my form is FAR from perfect, so perfect being a relative term.) At least it was something to think about to keep my mind off how uncomfortable I was.

Finish: Crossed the finish line with little left in the tank, but recovered and felt decent within a few minutes.  Headed straight from the finish line to the massage tent and got in line for some relief on my very sore glute area.  The massage guy spent a lot of time working on me and I felt much much better after the massage.  A massage every week would be the ultimate luxury!

Just like last year, I finished 4th in my age group, a minute and a half behind 3rd place, just off the podium.  The number 3 girl swam 3 & 1/2 minutes quicker than me, and I was 3 & 1/2 minutes quicker than her on the bike - so that would have put us even.  It came down to transition times and the run - all these times were close but this day I came up a little short.   

Lessons learned: 

1. Every minute, every second counts especially in shorter races such as this.
2. My bike to run transition is pretty good, but swim to bike transition is really pretty lousy.  Much room for improvement there and of course it's the easiest way to improve your finish time.  
3. Boulder Peak would have been NOT wetsuit legal had it been held one day earlier.  A storm moving through the night before cooled the water down just enough to make the wetsuit cutoff, so that they were allowed.  Since my one and only triathlon where I did not wear a wetsuit was in warm comfy salt water where I was very boyant, I need to be solidly mentally prepared for the possibility of swimming "naked" (that is, without a wetsuit) at my next race, Boulder 70.3 - and at every race, really.  I've been awfully lucky with this so far, but it's inevitable.

Thanks for reading!

Flying Monkeys in Kansas...Oh My!

Last weekend I headed east to Lawrence KS for the Ironman Kansas 70.3 triathlon. Warren and I had done this race in 2008.  He's not currently racing and had been on the road way too much lately, so he wasn't making the long trip with me. I headed out at 6:30 on Friday morning, ready to entertain myself for eight and a half hours.  I had Sirius radio and, loaded into my iPhone, an audio book about the hurricane that devastated Galveston and killed thousands of people back in 1900.  So off I went to find Dorothy and her friends on the Yellow Brick Road.

My goal was just to have a better experience and outcome than at my last race in early April, Ironman Texas 70.3 in Galveston.  There, I struggled a lot on the run and came in a disappointing 7th place in my age group. Despite having a nasty cold that hung on for weeks in May, training had started to feel better the past few weeks, so this was going to be a fair gauge of my fitness on the journey to Ironman Canada Whistler in August.

Last year's IM KS was hot, windy and not wetsuit legal.  The day before the race this year, as we checked in, the weather was exactly that again - but the good news was that the water temperature was 72.  A storm was expected to pass through overnight which typically cools the water off even more.  For those of you who don't know, athletes are allowed to wear wetsuits in the swim of a triathlon as long as the water is 76.1 degrees or cooler.  Wetsuits, of course, help keep you warm in the water, and provide buoyancy which makes swimming much easier and faster. For swimmers like me, wetsuits are a good thing, so I was happy to hear that we would be wearing them.  Temperatures predicted to be mid-high 80's, and of course there would be wind - but hopefully not too severe and gusty.

Pam, Nicole, Liz and Khem - IMF/NR Team represents!

Three of my teammates on the Ironman Foundation Newton Running Ambassador Team were racing and/or working at the race, so I was looking forward to connecting with them.  One of them who wasn't racing, Liz Kollar, was kind enough to offer me her race wheels to borrow, and not having any of my own, I took her up on it.  Having a bike with 650c wheels presents some limitations on equipment, and I have thought a few times about a new bike with 700c wheels ... but my beloved bike Bella Blue just fits me and it's comfortable so going to stick with it for at least another year.

Crowie sharing wisdom pre-race.

The day before the race, Ironman hosted a lunch for the Teams who were competing in the race.  Craig Alexander and another professional Emma-Kate Lidbury(who both won the race the next day) came by to speak and offered photo opps.  One interesting thing I took away from Crowie's talk was his response to the question about what's in his head when he's racing.  He said Greg Welch shared this with him: asking yourself "who are you?"  That resonated with me, and in my mind it brings up deep questions about:

• who you are as a person
• why you are a triathlete
• how this sport takes precious time away from being with people you care about yet can be a powerful way to set a positive example of what's possible
• how to bring forth the best in yourself on race day and in life
• gratitude for good health and strong body, and friends to share the sport with
• ....all reflected as "who you are" in the lens of the day's race conditions and circumstances .

Here are the highlights:
Pre-Race:  Due to the predicted storm the night before the race, with possible high winds and hail, we had the option of either dropping our bikes off the day before OR race day.  I chose to drop mine on race day, imagining arriving race morning with all the bikes blown off the racks in a heap of wheels and gears.  It was breezy and still misting a little when we arrived that morning at 5am and there were big puddles in the grass in the transition areas.  I felt like I had made the right decision about not dropping my bike off the day before.  There were two separate transition areas in this race, half a mile apart - so getting everything set up and ready to go took a little extra time.  Before the race, saw  my friends Jim and Pam Buderus, and it would be the only time I saw them all weekend.  I was hoping to catch up with you guys more, sorry to miss you!

I'm #308, first bike on rack right by swim start.

Swim:  I was in the 2nd age group wave.  The water was really choppy because of the wind from the storm.  But the temperature was nice, and I was surprisingly calm. (I'm often not before a triathlon swim)  The course was a long rectangle, and I noticed that they had numbers on the buoys which was convenient.  Eight orange buoys, then a red buoy at the turn point, then swim to the next red buoy and turn again, then eight orange buoys to take you back to the swim finish.  Easy peasy. So my goal this swim was to take a straighter line instead of staying wider to avoid other swimmers who inevitably ended up swimming on top of me. I was trying to be more brave and to better claim my space in the water.  As a result, yep, I got swam over and banged around lot more.  But I just kept going.  After all, I was in a wetsuit, which meant that I'd probably stay on top of the water no matter what.  And I thought I was swimming pretty well.  Actually, my swim time was almost exactly the same as I'd swam in Galveston in April, and much slower than my fastest half Ironman swim time in 2010.  I came out of the water in 48 minutes and was pretty disappointed about the time. But... swim was over and I had to let it go and move on to the bike.

Bike:  This was a very hilly course that was usually windy as well.  However, the first couple of hours on the bike, the wind was there but manageable. As a light rider on a small bike, I get blown around a lot when it's windy.  I've learned that managing the wind is as much mental as it is physical, and have taken advice I heard from Mark Allen to imagine yourself as swiss cheese and let the wind blow through you.  It helps me, and is quite opposite from the way I used to try to mentally and physically fight the wind.  (but I still don't really enjoy riding in the wind)  So in the last hour, the wind picked up a lot, and at the end of 56 miles, I was happy to be getting off Bella Blue to go run my 13.1 miles.

Run: When I got off my bike in the Galveston race after riding into big head winds the last 15 miles, my legs were toast.  I pushed way too hard through the winds and had not trained sufficiently to put that type of effort forward - and I paid dearly with a miserable run in that race. This time I tried to stay more within myself on the bike ride, while still maintaining a good effort.  As a result, the run felt a lot better....yet still not great and certainly not as good as I've felt on the run in some other races.  Haven't cracked why I'm not feeling the run these days.  Started to come good a little more in the last half of the half-marathon but then felt like I was on the edge of cramping big the last three miles.  Took some salt tabs but it was too little too late as it didn't really help the feeling. A friend, Michele Van Pelt, came past me right at the 13 mile mark and I started to find that gear to go with her, but in the interest of avoiding a seizure cramping episode right at the finish line, I ended up letting her go and came in a few seconds later...fortunately with no cramp seizure in the finish line picture.

Wrapup:
My finish time put me 6th in my age group, and my time was significantly faster than the last time I did this race five years ago.  So even though I had hoped to finish faster and higher in my age group, the fact that I significantly improved my time in all three disciplines is something to feel good about.  I will continue to work on the areas of my game that aren't where they need to be (specifically, my swim, my bike and my run, as well as my strength and my nutrition - so "all of it") under the guidance of my coach Tim Reed.  He challenges me to approach both training and racing thoughtfully and analytically, yet reminds me also that at the end of the day it's just a sport, and not to forget to enjoy it regardless of the outcome.  

Morning view from my 4-star Tent Accommodations 

Instead of driving home after the race, I decided to take my friends' offer of pitching a tent in the grass on their campsite and sleeping under the stars before heading out for the long drive home early Monday morning.  It was beautiful!  I zipped the tent up tight and tried not to think about that huge dead snake I'd seen on road on the bike course and how snakes like to slither around in the grass...yikes!   Thanks Don and Mike Orr for the campsite hospitality.   It was also fun hanging out with James Hadley, a pro from Boulder who came third in that race - who stopped by the campsite for a beer or two that afternoon.  

Oh, and the flying monkeys that struck such fear in my young life, watching The Wizard of Oz on tv?  They apparently took the day off.