Adventure Race Of Our Own

Well, it's day 4 and I'm STILL recovering from the climb up 103 flights of stairs. Now, I figure the pain in my legs must be from the stair climbing because I've never felt this sore this long after any marathon or Ironman.

There has been a small little adventure race put on 2 of the last 3 years by my tri-buddy, none other than CJB. After a year of haitus, it is with great pleasure that I announce we will be having the 3rd RAYOR Adventure Race right here in our back yards. This race is being put on by CJB and the
Chicago Triathlon Team Luna Chix, of which I am a member of.



This is a perfect event for beginners. These will be 2 person teams and the event will last 4 hours, so you just collect as many clues as you can in the allotted time. The sections include (in no particular order):

Mountain biking

Metro trek - 1 person on scooter or skates, 1 on foot

Kayak

Orienteering

Mystery events

The registration is $40 per team and 100% of the entry fees will go to the Breast Cancer Fund.



So, if you're in the area and you'd like to check out what an adventure race is like, this is the perfect opportunity to get your feet wet! Registration is until we reach 30 teams or Oct. 25th, whichever comes first. Just post a note to me if you'd like more information OR if you'd like to volunteer!!

Recovery Day 2

The night after the Scallion, I couldn't really sleep. Sometimes when you exert yourself so much, you're too sore to sleep...or something like that. I didn't get home until after 11pm that night, yet at 3:15 am, I was wide awake. But the following day (Sunday), wasn't too bad. Sure, my quads were a bit sore, that's to be expected. I felt like I had just run a hard half marathon.

But today - Monday - YEEEOOOOWWWWWW! I can barely move! To think I expected to run 3 miles this evening was just ridiculous!! Every time I get up off the chair, I need to use my arms as much as I can. The worst, of course, is going down stairs. At the office, I must've looked like I was handicapped or something because I had 3 guys rush to me to ask if I was OK and if I needed help down the stairs. It's quite embarassing when everyone asks you what's wrong and if you're OK.

Then when you tell them how you punished your body ON PURPOSE and that you ENJOYED it, people look at you like you're crazy. Unless you've ever experienced something like this, you cannot understand what keeps you coming back for more. And you can't understand the bonding that goes on during a race like this. It's not to say the whole time we laughed and got along, but we helped each other and supported each other through one tough adventure. There were jokes, slams, name calling, and the usual banter. But there was also teamwork, encouragement, and true friendship.

I am so sore today. I think this is worse than any marathon or Ironman I've ever done. My quads are definitely the worst, but the calves ache, too. Not to mention the neck and shoulders. Just a couple more days and I plan to be back to normal. And I am so excited that I don't feel like I'm catching a cold. Spending 8.5 hours in the cold and rain isn't exactly the best thing you can do for yourself.

So, I'm enjoying my time on the couch this evening. But with the half marathon this weekend, well, I can't relax TOO much!!

I can't believe I think I've just been converted into an Adventure Racing enthusiast!! Sometimes, I shock myself.

Wild Scallion 2006

Our team must've exchanged over 100 emails and/or voicemails in the week before this race. Over half of these were "what do we wear"? We had one very experienced adventure racer, Captain J-B, myself with one previous A/R under my belt, and one person who was breaking her cherry into the sport. For this race, I actually did track weather reports ahead of time. The last time I did this race, it took us about 8 hours or so and I froze almost the entire time. It's a miserable way to spend the day, so I didn't want that to happen again. The forecast was calling for mid 60s and rain...oh, we were guaranteed some rain on race day.

Captain J-B (CJB) supplied us with a list of things to bring. He and I argued about many of the items on the list, especially his request that we bring 2 bike helmets. Not to mention, CJB feels the need to be the first one in transition no matter what race he goes to. So this race starts at 11:00am, but he wants to leave at some crazy hour, but I think he knew his 2 teammates were going to argue if he gave us some obnoxious hour to meet. We agreed on 7am.

Now, I wasn't overly crazy about doing this race last time. I was miserably cold and I felt completely useless to my team. And the only reason I agreed last time was that the female of that co-ed team sustained an injury that prevented her from participating in the race. I didn't want my other 2 friends, who could find NO OTHER FEMALE to race with, to miss out on something they looked so forward to, so I reluctantly agreed to that one. And at the finish of that race, a fellow racer, and good friend, asked me what I thought of the end of that race. I said it was crazy and I would never do this again.

Yet here I was. I got suckered in to THIS race because of a friendly little rivalry of triathlete friends. There were 2 women and 1 man on each team, and it should have been a pretty equal race. While we were on our way to the race site, we got a phone call from one of the other team members stating they were already there. "WHAT???", I thought. That should've tipped me off on what was to come. We pulled into the parking lot and found one of the other team members quickly. After a friendly exchange, we then saw another familiar face, a guy who is not only a phenomenal triathlete, but a killer Adventure Racer! His navigation skills are second to none and I know he's been on sponsored adventure race teams before. Little did we know, he was now racing with our friends. Unfortunately, one of their team members was feeling under the weather and they called this guy last-minute to try and save their team.

Well, this changed everything. No longer were we racing the other team, we were just out there having fun now. There was no way we could beat that team unless something went seriously wrong. My focus then went off of them and on to beating as many other teams out there as we could. I also really wanted to have fun this time. It's a long day when you're not having fun!!

I must say that CJB spends countless hours thinking about cool little tricks that will help us in this race. If there's any way to make something lighter, easier, more comfortable or just plain cool, he's going to come up with it. Transition was in the middle of this big, grassy field which was already a little soft from all the rain we've recently had. We had one of the best tents out there...we had a waterproof tarp for the floor, and the waterproof tent had sides and a zipper front. It was, by far, the best tent out there...which caused problems for us later. It was definitely going to keep us and our things dry for the day ahead of us.


The start of the race was at Northerly Island which is the old Meigs Field. The first section required us to run to the Sears Tower and up 103 flights of stairs. I had a short-sleeved underarmor shirt on under the matching bike jersey with the Scallion bib (where you have your number). We were team 34...love that number. I was always a big Walter Payton fan and I took it as fate that this was going to be a good day! I went back and forth on whether to wear armwarmers or not for the start. We were going to be running, so I'd probably get warm quickly. At the last minute, I balled up the armwarmers and tucked them into a slot on my fuel belt, but I kept a pair of gloves on. I have a sometimes have a problem keeping my hands and feet warm.

All the teams were gathered at the start. We said good luck to the other team (not like they'd be needing it) and before I knew it, we were off and running across the field. There are a few things about adventure racing that make it different than other types of racing:

Pace yourself, it will be a long day

Speed doesn't always necessarily win the race

The fastest route isn't always a straight line

You're only as strong as your weakest link

We ran for what seemed like forever (but was really only about 3.5 miles) to the Sears Tower. In the building we go and each team got one bottle of water to split. Ick. Cooties. My teammates were so good to me and know what a germ-a-phob I am, so I got to take the first drink. Then we were off to climb to the top. I gave one of my teammates one of my other gloves. It helps to pull yourself up the railing and the railing was already soaked from all the other competitors' sweat, so the glove helpted. For the first 20 flights, I wanted to go around these slow people. CJB kept telling me to slow down and pace myself. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, towards the 40th floor, I started losing steam. I was sweating profusely and breathing heavily. My legs felt fine, but my lungs felt like they were about to explode. After about 10 more flights, I had to ask to stop. I bent over, gasping for breath. I was leaving a little sweat puddle where it was just dripping endlessly off my face. I was commanded to take my shirts off, it would keep my cooler. That stairwell was very stuffy. I didn't think it would help, but I would try anything. I didn't want to have to tell my teammates I couldn't make it. I thought to myself, "WHY does this feel so hard!???! I am an Ironman, I can DO THIS!" Almost immediately after taking off the underarmor and bike jersey, I felt better. Let's GO!

Another 25 flights and my teammates knew I needed to stop again. We drank what was left in our fuel belts, rested a quick 30 seconds, about 7 teams passed us, and we pressed on. I could not believe how hard this was. CJB kept telling me this was the hardest thing we would do all day. He also said, "You're an f-ing Ironman, now get up those stairs!" He was right. This wasn't going to break me. We jumped back on the stairs and I felt pretty good. There were already teams on their way down, telling us "good job, you're almost there." I hate that. Twenty more floors, thought it seems like it, isn't really "almost there". It's like telling someone at mile 20 of a marathon "you're almost there!" UGH! I think we made one more quick stop just to catch our (or maybe just my) breath and we got faster the closer we got to the top. WOO HOO - there was air conditioning at the top! I immediately found a clear spot and sat down. I just needed to bring my heart rate back down before I could make that journey down the stairs. I felt so good, though, that I was done with that challenge. We were done with the most physically challenging part of the day.

We sat for maybe about a minute, saw the other team we knew, they looked so fresh and they were off within seconds. I jumped up and said let's go...down will be a piece of cake! Well, yes, we were moving much more quickly down than we were going up. But these stairs are a bit narrow and I'm very nervous going down because I have a hard time fitting my size 10 foot on these tiny little stairs. And the stairs were a bit slippery from all the sweat of the other racers. So, I held on the railing so if I slipped, I had a chance I'd catch myself. That, or I fall right into CJB, which would probably hurt him more than me.

We shared another bottle of water at the bottom of the stairs and we were on our way back toward the lake. Both us women put our shirts back on as it was a bit nipply wen we exited the Sears tower. Our shirts were absolutely soaked through with sweat, which normally disgusts me, but in a racing situation, it's something you just deal with. I immediately pitched my glove, which had all the nasty hand railing sweat on it, into the nearest trash can. We ran at a nice, steady pace toward our next checkpoint.

The next little fun thing we get to do is walk in the lake...I don't know how far, but if I could've swam it, I probably could've been faster. All 3 of us took off our shoes, but left the socks on, in order to try and keep the shoes dry. We had to read the letters on each of 4 buoys while walking through the water as a team, with arms locked or holding hands. For some reason, CJB wasn't really good at this. It was like his feet turned to lead and I kept trying to drag him through the water. We went shallower so he would have an easier time. The letters were T-E-A-M. We got to the end and put our shoes on...getting them wet in the process, go figure! Then it was on to coasteering, which is navigating your way across some large rocks. This was just a little tricky, because all of our shoes were slippery from being wet. Last time I did this, we went about a mile, and I thought it was my favorite part of that race. Unfortunately, this time, it lasted less than 10 minutes. We were just about a quarter of a mile from transition. We jumped in the tent, each ate a hamburger (thanks CJB!), I dumped my underarmor, added a camelback, put on a fresh pair of socks, changed the orthotics from one pair of shoe to the next and we were ready to go! Very quick transition!

Now we're off to Schiller Park woods, maybe some 20+ miles on bike, to our orienteering course. We got on our bikes and it felt like a break from all the running and the stairs! We were not on our bikes for 10 minutes before it started to rain. We immediately pulled over and took out the waterproof (or so we thought) jackets we had tucked in our camelbacks. In the time it took for us to pull over and put them on...IT STOPPED RAINING!!! WTF??? We left the jackets on and continued on up the lakefront path. We cut over at Irving Park and make the very long ride on out to First Avenue. It started to rain. It was more than a drizzle, but not quite a downpour. It took away our ability to draft on the bikes because of the water shooting up from the bike in front of you. We were yelled at by a few drivers and it felt like we were stopped at every other red light. The good thing was, none of us was cold.

We arrived to the orienteering course and the place to dump our bikes was like a big mud pit. Our shoes and socks were already soaked through, what's a little bit of mud going to hurt?? Now, I'm not good at directions. I'm not good with maps. But what I did have on this day was an endless amount of energy. We were to use the tool at each point to punch little holes in different shapes at each checkpoint. We were the only team that went the backwards route, from point 8 to point 1, and it helped to see where the other teams were coming from. We saw our friends around check point 5, which means they were still a bit ahead of us, but less than we would've expected. One point was in the middle of the woods, through a bunch of mud (I despise getting dirty), yet another was through a field of weeds and grass that were taller than I was! KK took a tumble in the forest, landing on her pinky finger, but she was a true sport about it, and just got up and kept going. We moved quickly and we jogged between checkpoints and I have to think we made up some time on those people that were able to do those stairs quicker than I was! DAMN those stairs, why did that feel so hard! I spent most of the day trying to "make up" the time we lost there because of me.

While KK and I were making a pit stop, CJB was getting the map for the next part. We were praying they cancelled the trail portion of this race on bike because we had road bikes. There would be no way we could complete that section. Because of the downpour of rain, thankfully, it was cancelled. We rejoiced, we had made the right choice in selecting our road bikes for this race! We went on to a series of checkpoints on the bike. And the rain came down harder.

We went to Malcom X College as one of the checkpoints and, at one time, we thought, gee, the rain could NOT get worse. We were wrong! Almost immediately after leaving the college, the wind picked up and we were being pelted in the face with rain drops. I don't ever remember being hit in the face with rain drops and feeling like it hurt before! For miles, we rode in the rain and I made most of that journey with one eye closed. I was fighting to keep my contacts in. Between the wind and the rain being blown into my face, I thought for sure I was going to lose one. It wasn't a very safe feeling, riding a bike in the pouring rain, with one eye closed. I just hoped my teammates would warn me if a car was coming.

At some points, we had to ride through at least 6 inches of water. Luckily, CJB's knowledge of the city kept us right on track and we never really "screwed up" in our directions. We headed back to the transition area where all I could think of was putting on some dry shirts. I was amazed at how the rain didn't really get me very cold. Despite the downpour, I was having a great time! We took the trail into transition and there was a large section that was under water. CJB rode right through, but KK screamed and planted her feet when her bike must've hit a massive pothole in the trail. Thank God she didn't go down because I was right behind her. I had seen where CJB rode through, and I took that route and escaped unharmed. KK thought for sure she had gotten a flat, she hit that hole hard. But I told her, it doesn't matter, we're almost to transition and we're done with the bikes! Again, trooper that she is, we heard nothing more of that big hole she hit.

We saw our friends were still in transition and I was shocked they weren't further ahead of us. Our day was going well. We walked into our tent and discovered people had been in there. They left huge puddles of water at the bottom of our tent. And, my mistake, my bag was on the floor of that tent. Everything in my bag was now soaked. I had no warm clothes to put on. I was ticked. Using someone else's transition area is like cheating. You don't touch another team's things...period. Our friends confirmed that they had seen at least 2 guys in our tent. I couldn't be more furious. It was one thing if mother nature had soaked my things on her own, but to have another competitor violate our space and cause my things to become waterlogged, well, I have NO TOLERANCE for cheaters.

I choked down another hamburger, put on different clothes (they were no longer dry OR clean), put my orthotics back into the other pair of shoes, squeezed out my socks (I didn't have a 3rd pair!) and threw my raincoat on. At least THAT raincoat would keep my dry. At some point during the last section, it was decided that I was no longer scootering, I would be running. Not my favorite thing to do, but you gotta do what's best for the team. The next section needed to have one of us on roller blades, one of us on a scooter, and the other team member was the runner. Unfortunately, all 3 of us had to wear helmets. It's kinda goofy to wear a helmet while you're running! I'm not a very fast runner, but I still felt like I had a bunch of energy...that, and CJB told us I only had to run another 3 miles. (you can ask me what CJB stands for later).

So we took off for what was to be the last section of the race. I couldn't believe the day was going so fast. I was truly enjoying myself. It helps to be with good friends...I don't think I would have survived the day had I done it alone. I yelled at those guys for being behind me. After all, they were on WHEELS, I had to run! Get up there and navigate, dammit! Within the first 15 minutes of this section. The rain stopped. The sun came out. GUESS I DON'T NEED THIS RAINCOAT! Ugh! Now I have to carry it the rest of the way! We went through various sections of the city, collecting different answers to questions, and I knew I had already run at least 5 miles. One was at Navy Pier, one was somewhere on Huron, then this other guy from another team yelled "EXCUSE ME" as he pushed by me on the sidewalk. WTF, go around, loser! And the team wasn't really following the rules as your whole team should be within 100 yards of each other. They clearly weren't following this, but whatever. He just ticked me off. As I kept going, he just STOPS in front of me, and now I have to run around him! DUDE, WTF? That did it for me, I'm not letting this team in front of me again. I yelled to my team, OK, where to next, and I just ran. I ran as hard as I could. I wanted to build up as big of a lead as I could on these guys. Yes, 3 guys, so they weren't even in our classification, but that guy had ticked me off! My teammates asked my why I was running so fast, but I think they knew.

At the very next checkpoint, they caught up to us. Shoot. Now they gave that guy the scooter and some skinny guy started running. Damn, I can't keep up with him. Tried as hard as I could, but that guy was stronger than me. Let it go, we're almost there and we've had a great race. I ask CJB, "How much further?" I was getting tired. He said "Not very far." OK, that doesn't help! HOW MUCH FURTHER???? "Six blocks, he yells, six blocks!" "OK," I thought, "I can keep this up for another six blocks." By now it was dark and we had turned on our headlamps. Now I was THANKFUL CJB made us bring 2 helmets because we had strapped headlights on the second helmet. These came in very useful.

We turned the corner and could see the finish line. CJB and KK flew ahead of me, but I was running as fast as I could. The events of the day had taken quite a toll on my quads and I was in pain just running to the finish. I tried SO HARD to catch those guys, and I could see they were only about 10 seconds in front of me, but that skinny dude can RUN! We crossed the finish line and were elated to be done!! We received our medals, certificate for a free Chipotle burrito (a highlight for me!) and got our picture taken.

As a special bonus, CJB had stashed some dry sweatshirts and stocking caps for us near the finish line. Of course, we had to ask a cop to loan us a tire iron to help us open the manhole cover where the stuff was stashed (I know the guy thinks we're nuts), but it was SO WORTH it. I was shivering within minutes of finishing and without being able to put on a dry shirt, I'm sure I would have been miserable. It was yet another highlight of the day.

We had a chance to catch up with the other team and share stories from the day. We all seemed to have a great time and I can't believe I'm going to say this, but yeah, I'd most definitely do this again! Next time, however, I gotta figure out how to climb 103 stairs without stopping AND how to prevent cheaters from busting in on our transition tent.

Thanks to my teammates, CJB and KK, you guys were awesome people to hang with for the day. Even though I hated you both at different points throughout the day, I would definitely race with both of you again. And thanks to the other team for helping us, more than once, from screwing up our race and giving us a team to look for throughout the day. I'm already thinking of improvements for next year....

Motivation - or lack therof!

Well, it's been about a month since my last triathlon. I'm actually kinda bummed how happy I am that the season is finally over. This season was particularly difficult for me this year. It could be how drastically I had changed my training regimen, I had an Ironman early in the season, or perhaps the fact that I didn't really take any time off had something to do with it.

The fact remains, I haven't been excited about training and/or racing for the past couple of months. It makes me wonder if I've just burnt myself out of the sport or if it was just simply a long season for me. I'm hoping for the latter because I spent way too much money on a nice bike just to ride it for 2 years!! This is the first year I haven't found myself going "Gee, I wish I was doing just ONE MORE RACE."

I just received an email with an article that I found to be a bit helpful. It provides you with tips on what to do after your last race of the season. Hey, well, see, I already checked out the yoga!

We are preparing for the Wild Scallion this weekend. It's a much different experience than triathlon. I don't feel any anxiety or pressure when doing a race like this, even though it will probably last more than half the day. Sure glad it's not another triathlon....

CCCCCOLD!

Well, here we are not even the end of September yet and it is getting cold here in Chicago. Last night, a few of us went on a short little run after work. Unfortunately, I don't pay enough attention to Tom Skilling, so I was completely unprepared for the chilly evening ahead.

We were to meet around 5:45pm and start the run at 6:00pm. Because, living in Chicago, one can never predict what traffic the conditions will be like, I left myself an hour to get there. On this day, traffic was very light! I didn't have to cut anyone off, yell out the window OR flip the bird through my sunroof. It was a great traffic day! Only problem is, that got me to my destination about 20 minutes too early.

Now one would think, "OK, then, go out and run 20 minutes until the others arrive." Well, not at this time in the season. My thoughts were more like, "Gee, I hope no one else shows up so I can just go home." If I didn't have a couple of pending races on my calendar, I think I'd be going home and sitting on the couch every night.

Others arrived and I had a jacket on to try an keep a little warm. The past few days have been windy and the sun was rapidly setting. We were also going to be running in forest preserve, which is even a bit cooler. I wasn't the only one anxious to get the show on the road. There was a chance we had one more joining us, so after a quick call to her cell phone (I got voice mail), we decided to hit the trail.

From the moment we started, my fingers and ears were cold. The wind never really died down, yet the temperature seemed to be dropping every minute! We talked, harassed each other, updated each other on recent race experiences and talked strategy for our upcoming adventure race. The time went quickly.

Just as we were nearing the end of the run, we spotted a familiar face standing at the beginning of the trail. Uh oh, she showed up. And we had left her. We had only started about 7 minutes ahead of schedule, but that was enough time to ensure we'd never even known she arrived. I felt so horrible! We learned she also ran, she just didn't go as far out as we did. Thankfully she's a good sport and blamed it on herself for being late (she really wasn't).

We blamed the chilly weather as our reason for starting. Couple the temperature with the sun quickly setting and we won't be able to have many more evening runs on the trail. Summer is just about over.

Yoga

Now I know Yoga is supposed to be "good" for me. I know we triathletes are supposed to try different activities in our off season, things like Yoga and Pilates, to make us more flexible and stretch different muscles. So, with great hesitation, I signed up for a Yoga class.

I've only tried Yoga 2 other times. It was Bikram Yoga - where they keep the room 112 degrees and you start sweating almost the instant you step into the room. Now, aside from the fact that I feel completely ridiculous trying to contort my body into these obnoxious poses, the floor of that room was covered with carpet. And people sweat on the carpet. They walk on it with their bare, sweaty feet. I brought 2 large beach towels to that bikram class each time and they reeked of nasty, moldy carpet smell both times I came home. Not to mention, the class was almost an hour away from home. So I decided that the bikram yoga was not for me. That was about a year ago.

This time, I signed up for "normal" yoga. The class is now about 20 minutes from home, and there would be no sweat splashing on to me from the other class participants, so I was thinking I hit the jackpot. I even bought my own little mat thingy for this class. I walked in with high hopes that I would walk out of the class feeling it was worthwhile and that I would benefit from it.

I was about 10 minutes early and everyone else there knew each other. I was the youngest one in the class by about 15 years. Hmmmm. The rest of the class walked in, friends of mine (thankfully) and the class was due to start. But the instructor didn't really start yet. She was passing out "props", like blankets, blocks and a belt. No sooner were all the props distributed that she announced we would not be using the belt. Um, Okay.

The first 15 minutes was her talking about the way she instructs class, she announces she is "hands-on" (Oh great, I HATE people touching me!) and that the last 15 minutes she usually does..uh...well, I don't know, I can't understand nor pronounce any of the yoga words she used. All the people that got there before me were previous class participants. How bad could it be, these people came back for another session, right?

Well, I don't know. Maybe yoga just isn't my thing. We went through the first pose and the instructor paid a lot of special attention to the individual participants. However, the rest of us were just left there to watch, not really knowing what we were supposed to do. We only did about 4 poses the entire class. We did a lot of breathing. Yeah, well, I breathe every day, so why am I paying to sit in a class and breathe with a bunch of people? The 75 minute class seemed like an eternity and I was already kicking myself in the a$$ for committing myself to this class for 8 weeks. As the time slowly ticked on, I kept hoping it was going to get better.

But the class ended and I felt no more stretched out than I did before I got there. I just lost 75 minutes of my life that I will never get back. So I thought it was just me. Maybe I just don't like yoga. I have a hard time relaxing, so I thought this just might be me needing to widen my horizons and go with the flow. But as I talked to my other friends that did the class, no one was impressed. We thought it was a waste of time and we've already begun formulating a plan on how we either get our money back or they create a more advanced class for us. After all, we do make up half of the class we just went through.

So who knows? I was happy it wasn't "just me." But I'm not happy in that I know yoga is good fo me and that I need to learn to like it in order to be a better triathlete. I certainly didn't need an experience like this to turn me off this activity before I give it a chance.

So I plan to go back next week. Maybe it will get better. Maybe they'll have to change the class up a bit in order to make it a bit more productive for us. It doesn't really feel like a "workout". But maybe it's not supposed to. I look back on my bikram experience and I have to say, at least I felt challenged and stretched out after one of those classes. Guess I gotta look for some sort of combo of these two versions of yoga....

Volunteering at IMWI

I have entered so many races. I realize that our sport could not be what it is without the volunteers. With that in mind, I decided to volunteer at IMWI this year, the "scene" of my first Ironman, just one year ago. I tried to be a wetsuit stripper, but that job was full. And after someone mentioned all the pee that would be sprayed on me as I did that job, I was just a little thankful that I didn't get that spot! I forgot about how we all pee in the wetsuit before a race! ICK!

So, I ended up being a volunteer in the T1 change tent. Because I had raced Ironman before, I felt I knew everything there was to know about T1 and how best to help the athletes. I couldn't be more wrong.

There was very little instruction given to us the morning of the event. There was a special volunteer meeting the day before, but I had missed it. Basically, we were told to stand near the entrance of the T1 area and "claim" the athletes as they started running through. There were about 25 of us and it seemed there were too many volunteers for this area.

We chatted a bit and I learned that most of these women were not first-time volunteers to this race. The first 2 athletes I saw were the women pros. But as Andrea Fisher ran into T1, I stood in awe and couldn't believe she was right there in front of me. I frowned when I heard someone ask, "Hey, isn't that a guy...and what's he doing here in the women's changing tent?" But I'll bet Andrea gets that a lot. She's very tall and very muscular, but I assure you, she's very much a woman!!

I ran over to help her with the very small amount of things she had in her bag for T1. I asked her what she needed and she said "vest". As she put her helmet on, I helped her on with what I thought was a very flimsy vest, given the weather conditions. Before she could get finished, Hillary (forget her last name) ran in. She was fast as lightning through the transition and, though Andrea had a good 20 second lead into T1, Hillary blew out of there before Andrea even got up off the chair. I couldn't believe these two were going out in this weather (the high was supposed to be around 61 degrees and RAINY) wearing almost exactly what they swam in. But these are professionals, and I just wanted them to have the most speedy, efficient transition as possible.

And within seconds, they were both gone. All the volunteers simply looked at each other. It was amazing. Within the next few minutes, Lauren Jensen ran in. Yeah, OK, she ticked me off at Pleasant Prairie, but I'm still starstruck by her and I helped her get her socks and shoes on. She also pulled on armwarmers and definitely took the time to get dressed appropriately for the brutally chilly day ahead. The pros sort of whisper to you what they need as they try to catch their breath and flawlessly get ready for the next leg of the race. This was the 3rd professional I had the opportunity to watch and help prepare for the 112 mile ride, and I felt so honored. I think my hands were shaking more than theirs!

In the next 10 minutes, several quick age groupers came in. As I checked my watch, I knew this was the group I would be in, had I been racing. These women were also very quick to change clothes and put on gear and sort of whispered to you what they needed. They had just swam 2.4 miles and ran up this spiral parking garage thing, so they were still trying to lower their heart rates and catch their breath. They weren't as smooth and fluid as the professionals, but these women were great athletes, and they knew it. It was all about business...get them ready and get them out of there!

Things I had to keep reminding myself were: 1)ASK them if you can dump their bag before you do it, and 2)ASK them what they want first. I kept having a tendency to give them what I would put on first. What sucks is that I got better at it as the day went on, but the faster athletes were the ones who would have appreciated it more.

I helped women put on shirts and bras that just seem to stick to you and roll up when you're wet. I helped women stretch out arm warmers over their cold, wet arms when their fingers could move enough to make a difference. I helped women pull on socks over their almost-numb toes so they could try to warm up before they got on that bike. The consensus was that this was a tough swim. Very choppy. And yes, I agreed, as I looked out at the water before the race started, I knew these athletes were in for a rough day. The swim was just the beginning.

The women were so thankful. I cannot count the amount of times the women told me thank you, you're wonderful, you know just what I need, I appreciate you being here, I couldn't do this without your help, and one woman even told me she loved me and kissed me on the cheek! OK, well that was a little weird, but, hey, she was doing and Ironman, how bad could she be????!?

I had 2 good friends racing and I knew they'd be in T1 between 1:20 and 1:30. So at that point, I looked around for them...and it was the most amazing site. There were women EVERYWHERE. They just plunked down wherever there was a free space, and they were just quietly changing all on their own. The volunteers were overwhelmed and there weren't enough of us to go around. It was complete chaos! The sweat dripped down my forehead and cheeks as I ran from athlete to athlete trying to help them in any way I could. I knew how valuable these volunteers were to me when I raced, and I wanted them to have the same positive experience I had.

By this time, these women took their time. I had one woman who had more stuff in her T1 bag than I have in my whole bathroom! She wiped her face with a towel, put on deoderant, chamois butter, sunscreen (there was no sun this day), a bandaid on a new blister and...get this...lip gloss. Then she wiped her face with the towel again. But she was cool. She was out there, doing her first Ironman. So I tried to hurry her along, but she wasn't having any of it. She was going to take her sweet time in T1 and get ready for this painfully long day she had ahead of her. I saw her several times throughout the day. And she looked strong and happy.

I tried to calm myself down, because for these athletes, the T1 time was irrelevant. I had to keep reminding myself that these women are just trying to complete the race. The time was unimportant, as long as it was under 17 hours. And I tried to calm them down, tell them they were doing a great job, the hard part was over. So many of them complained that the water was brutal, and the slow swim times posted verified their complaints. But they made it.

The racers then started trickling in. The volunteers began just standing around as we did in the beginning. We smiled, nodded and all just relished in the awesome experience we just shared. Then we were told the swim was cut off. That's it, anyone who wasn't out of the water already would not be allowed to continue. A few people came in and moved on because they entered the water in time and it just took them time to get to T1. There were 17 lonely T1 gear bags scattered numerically in the room where over 2600 bags were once placed. Then a woman in a wetsuit walked in. The tears in her eyes were all we volunteers needed to see to realize she had not made the cut off. As she picked up her T1 bag and slowly walked over to the changing area, she was shaking her head and muttered, "It was so hard out there. I gave it everything I had."

I couldn't look at her anymore. I was so overwhelmed with emotion thinking about the time and energy this woman must've put in for this race and her dreams were just stripped away from her. She hadn't missed the cut-off by much, but the rouh conditions are what probably robbed her from this experience. I took a deep breath and walked to the other side of the room to pre-occupy myself with some menial task until she left the changing tent. My heart went out to her, but I couldn't face her.

Then it was time to get the bags in numerical order and put them back in the very same room that the athletes had taken them from. After seeing the disorganization after everyone had passed through, I decided it was amazing that any of us get our stuff back after an Ironman!! The volume of athletes running through there in such a short time is amazing. I helped put all the bags back in order and smiled. All these women were out now on the bike course, attacking the rest of this excruciatingly long day. And we had helped them get there. I felt awesome. I wouldn't trade this experience for anything. It was truly an amazing day.

Park Forest Scenic 10

OK, so I'm way behind in the reporting arena, but hey, I got lots of stuff going on!

The morning of the PF Scenic 10, I wished I hadn't signed up for the race. I had that hilly bike ride the day before, but more importantly, it was POURING RAIN! The last time I did this race, it rained. But, you know, you get up and drive to the race the whole time hoping that it will clear up before the race starts. I couldn't find my raincoat and I thought "Gee, this means I REALLY shouldn't go!" I thought it was a sign.

However, I have this weird "thing" where if I sign up for a race, I'm doing it unless I'm on my deathbed or have some serious injury. It was chilly and drizzling as I walked quickly over to pick up my packet. I have no idea why the PF Scenic 10 t-shirts are so ugly. This is a premier race where they always bring in all these super fast people. Almost none of them can speak English and they all (including the men) weigh under 100 pounds. Well, I never really see these people until they do the awards presentation at the end.

I planned to just run this for fun with no time goal in mind. It's amazing how different the whole race feels when you go into it with that attitude. I lined up with some friends at the back of the pack and planned to run with them through the race. Ten miles goes much faster when you can chatter with friends.

Even as the gun went off for the race, it was drizzling. I don't really mind drizzle. That can make a run rather refreshing. It's that downpour of cats and dogs that gets your shoes and socks so soaking wet you get blisters that I can't stand. Takes your shoes DAYS to dry out after a run like that.

Anyway, we started off at a nice, casual pace. A couple of hills made the pace seem harder than it should have, but the course is second to none. It starts in residential areas and then very quickly heads into forest preserve. The only problem with that is that the path is narrow. And with it raining, I didn't really want to try and pass people by running around them forcing myself to run in the grass. I just didn't care about my time so much to do that.

The first 5 miles went by so fast it made me wish the race was longer (yeah, right). But then here's where the real fun began. I was now solo with a guy I had trained with all last year and run a couple marathons together. Our running abilities are very close, which makes us good running partners. We chatted the entire time, but we churned out negative splits the entire second half of the race. Mile after mile, the times kept going down. We'd smile at each other and keep chugging on, enjoying every step of each mile. It wasn't a full-out sprint down the finish chute, but we passed many people and it felt good.

It rained almost the entire race, but at some point, it didn't matter. I was soaked at the end and had to go to the car to change immediately. One of the best things about the PF Scenic 10 (besides the course) is the after-party. They have plenty of food to choose from and the beer is flowing! I hung out with several friends, some new, some old, and watched the entire awards ceremony while just catching up.

Another year of the PF Scenic 10. Hope to be back again next year.

Wright Stuff

I was in a rush to pack my things to get up to Madison to do this Wright Stuff ride. Although they had a century (100 mile) option, we had chosen the 60 mile option. When you're starting out, 100 miles seems like no big deal. But for anyone who has ridden the hills of Madison, you know how quickly you realize how happy you are that you chose the 60 mile option. EVEN BETTER would have been the 30 mile option! But are you really going to drive to Madison to bike ride 30 miles? Probably not.

I was pretty much out of my league with the bikers I had chosen to do this ride with. Almost all of them were pure cyclists by nature. Thankfully, I wasn't "shunned" for being a triathlete. Of course, I did not bring my TT bike. That would have been a big no-no. For this group of riders, the 18-19 mile per hour pace was "taking it easy." Are they nuts?? No, they are just well-trained.

It was 26 miles before we hit the first SAG stop, and I couldn't have been happier. I was relieved to find out they had only been waiting about 3 minutes before I got there. The way they took off at the beginning made me ponder the fact that they could have been waiting 30 minutes before I got there!! We replenished our drinks, had some cookies and bananas and were off again. I only hoped it wasn't another 26 miles before we hit another SAG stop.

The hills were tough. Well, none of them was quite as steep as the most difficult one at IMWI, but there were lots of hills that were quite long. And most of the time, just when you thought you were at the top, you were seriously disappointed as the road turned and you still had more than a quarter mile of climbing to do.

I was able to get up to 38 miles per hour on some of the downhills, which can be a bit disconcerning when going around a corner. Although the roads are great, the scenery beautiful up in in Madison, less can be said for the irate drivers who seem more than put out to be sharing their roads with the cyclists. I didn't see any automobiles try to take any of the cyclists out, but they drove by at speeds of over 70 mph and many times beeped very rudely (i.e., not the courteous, "hey, I'm behind you" beep). I guess that's never going to stop.

I caught my second wind with about 12 miles left to go. Maybe it's just that I could smell that the end was near. Or maybe I just wanted to get the hell off my bike as fast as possible, but I did a fair amount of drafting for a few miles and it felt fantastic! See, that's the one thing cyclists are used to that we triathletes are not. They draft in their pace lines, each taking turns "pulling". In triathlon, all that drafting is illegal, so we don't really practice it in training.

We had the most perfect day to ride. It was only a little cool to start in the morning and it never really got "hot" outside. There was a bit of wind toward the end, and we were able to escape the inevitable rain storm that was slowly moving in.
What a great way to spend Labor Day weekend. I hope to be able to do this ride again in future years.

Remembering when...

So this week, I was able to get out for a good weekday run with some friends. It's been a very long time since I ran for miles with good friends. I ran without concentrating on a pace, without trying to stick to a certain heart rate, or without trying to time everything out to the minute. The fun had returned to my training regimen.

I went to the run dreading the fact that we were going to be running close to an hour and a half. I cringed when I put my running shoes on and sighed heavily as I wrapped the fuel belt around my waist. I did not want to do this. I tried to lollygag as much as I could before we started and we walked for quite a distance before we could even muster up the energy to turn our casual pace into a relaxed jog. It was chilly, windy and the sun would be setting soon.

But as soon as the first half mile into the run, I was laughing, smiling, chatting and all these memories and feelings of my training from last year returned. See, last year, I felt like I trained with a "team". Sure, there were only 4 of us, but we were like gold. Always there to motivate and support each other. And sure, we fought, argued, yelled, screamed, and irritated each other at times, but when you spend a good amount of time with the same person/people, that's what happens. Just like every relationship goes though that phase, so it went with my training partners. But we were there for each other when it counted. Always.



That's gone. It will never return. I can only hope I can somehow develop other training partner relationships like that in the future. It's what made my season last year so successful. It's hard not to do well at something when you're having so much fun. It's not always about how FAST you went or how you PLACED. The journey is more than half the battle. And if you can enjoy it, well, then I'd say you've had a successful season.

So - to those of you that ran with me this week, thanks. You're what makes me continue this journey. I hope that we have many other training sessions like that. The time just seems to fly when you're having fun.

Accenture

It is with mixed emotions that I'm writing this. I just completed my last triathlon of the season yesterday. And I did, in my opinion, very poorly. So on the one hand, I'm glad the season is over because it hasn't been a good one for me. But in the same breath, I feel like I need another race to "redeem" myself.

The problem with Accenture is that there are like a million people racing (OK, 8000). And while transition opens at 4:30am and closes at 5:45am, I didn't start until after 9am. So I had the opportunity to watch many of my friends start AND finish the race before I even had to line up.

I had a very strong swim. I felt great and turned in a very nice time. Accenture is always difficult to get around all the many people in front of you in the water. But things went smoothly and I didn't really have to fight anyone. I struggled to get my wetsuit off and almost slipped off the cement and back into the water. I was pretty out of breath, so I couldn't even respond to my friends cheering me on at that point.



Then...the worst part for me is that you have to run what feels like a mile to transition...with NO SHOES on! I thought I was doing OK as I passed several men ahead of me who were slowly jogging to T1. I was set up all the way at the end of transition, near the bike exit, quickly put my shoes, helmet and sunglasses on and made my way onto the bike course.

The wind coming out of the north was brutal and I couldn't believe how chilly I was. The sky was overcast, but at least it had stopped raining. I tried really hard to stay as aero as possible and passed many people wearing shirts that the wind was puffing up to make them look like they had parachutes on their backs! There were so many obstacles to avoid on Lake Shore Drive. Pot holes, newbies riding on the wrong side, bike gloves, expansion joints where the overpasses are, hundreds of water bottles that had accidentally been launched from hitting something in the road, and the most unusual item I saw on the course was someone's aerobars!

I almost ran over some woman who crashed just about 4-5 bike lengths ahead of me. I don't know why she went down, but it was sudden and the "thump" sound it made, along with the scraping of the bike frame as it slid across the road was enough to make me clench my teeth, slam on the brakes and remind myself to stay focused. I yelled to one of the officials on a motorcycle that there was a biker down. It wasn't long after that I heard the ambulance sirens.

The turnaround is painstakingly slow as you have to wait for many people to get through before you. So many of them are new, you don't dare ride too close because they will for sure take you out. The tailwind on the southbound section of the course was nice and I thought I was doing well. Here we go into the second turnaround, and here is some idiot, almost riding perpendicular to the oncoming bike traffic, who realized he was supposed to join us in the second loop, at the last minute, trying to make it into the right chute. Yes, sir, we should all slow down for you because you couldn't pay attention to the signs when they told you what side of the street you should be on! GRRRR!

Going northbound again was tougher than I expected. I passed the time by watching the 40 year old parachute in front of me block many of the fast men that were now coming by like crazy. They were riding pretty aggressively, and in my opinion, pretty dangerously. There are too many inexperienced triathletes at a race like this for them to be whizzing by people at such speeds.

Tne end of the bike couldn't come fast enough for me and I chatted a bit with some woman who kept passing me and vice versa. She was fun to ride with and I asked if we could ride together in the future...she goes out to Barrington a lot, so I'm guessing I won't be riding with her any time soon.

After what I felt to be a very quick T2, I was off on the run. I felt great and my first split confirmed that. The temperature was very comfortable for a run and I was feeling pretty strong. I looked for other racers that I knew, but didn't see anyone I knew until just before mile 4...and just before the turnaround. I made it a point to "reel him in" and my breathing became pretty labored. I thought to myself, I should slow down a little, I still have 2 miles to go, but I was negative splitting this run and for a second, I thought I was on pace to PR this race. The next time I looked at my watch, I was dumbfounded when I realized I read it wrong and there was no way I was going to PR. My bike time was much too slow. But I just wanted to focus on this run and make it the best I could. There wasn't much I could do as women in my wave ran past me effortlessly, without even breathing hard. I was giving it every bit I had and as I came in to the finish line, I realized this was going to be my last race of the season. NO! I don't want the season to end like this! Or....wait, do I? Don't I want this season to just be over so I can come back next year and be stronger than ever?

Bittersweet, I tell you. I'm not really sure what went wrong for me this year. But, I suppose the more experience I have, the more I'll learn about what works for me and what doesn't. For now, I'm ready to put triathlons behind me for a few months...maybe more.

Uploading pictures

OK, well, I'm really trying to upload some pictures, but it's not working. I can't upload from my desktop, I put them in PhotoBucket, still can't download them...asked 2 other bloggers, they didn't tell me anything different to do; went to the help section and followed those directions. I can't figure it out. So until someone can tell me what I'm doing wrong, you all will just have to read these without visuals.

Sorry. I'm quite frustrated about it right now!

OK - so I just went in to edit this post and I can get the picture in there. But I can't get it in the post it's supposed to go in...the Training Ride. Damn. I'll keep trying.

Training Ride

OK, so I'm a little late in posting this, but things have been hectic this week. Then I had a little problem with internet access recently. But everything seems back in working order, so I wanted to get down my thoughts on a recent ride I went on.

I met up with some Apache women. We met out in Winfield to ride the course of some race that several of them are participating in this weekend. While I waited for them to arrive, I watched some other male cyclist go around at least 7 times. I figured he must be practicing some technical part of the course. He finished up, came over and introduced himself as the race director and yes, in fact, he had just completed 10 laps of the most difficult part of the course.

And what were we about to do? The same thing. They kept talking about this "hill". When you start riding up, it doesn't look too bad. I switched into an easier gear and got to what I thought was the crest. Just before where you make the first turn, the hill gets brutal and it feels as bad as that really tough hill of the IMWI course. It brings your speed (well, at least MY speed) all the way down to non-existent. By the time I was making the turn, my quads were burning and my breathing was out of control.

Now after you finish that hill, you're in for some nice downhill, but if this was a race, you wouldn't exactly be coasting down this. And you can really gain some speed just before you have to make the next turn, so it seemed to me that the race would be difficult. After 5 loops, I decided to sit out and wait for them to finish. I, too, have a race this weekend, but it doesn't include hills, so I didn't want to wear myself out.

Once they all completed the 10 loops (and made it look so easy!), we went on what they called a "casual" ride. Very nice riding out there with some rolling hills (which I would get dropped on EVERY time). I felt like a real cyclist as we rode in a pace line and took turns pulling. I got "coached" by the others as to what and how to do things. Triathletes ride very differently than cyclists, so it was good for me to try and learn what to do and what not to do. I still have a lot of learning to do, but these people were very supportive.

At times, our speed got up to 28mph and I would be struggling with all my might to stay on the wheel of the person in front of me. I would pray that a hill wasn't just around the corner because I knew I'd be dropped. We stopped very quickly for a "photo shoot" and headed back.



The way back was no picnic. Sporadially, these guys would just take off! I guess this is what you call "attack" in bike racing. And you had to decide in a split second, were you going with or were you going to let yourself be dropped? Well, I have the reaction time of a turtle and found myself trying to catch up only to be disappointed. There was no way I could catch these little rabbits. As fast as I could pedal, as hard as I could push, I could only watch them get smaller and smaller in the distance. With sweat pouring down my face and my heart rate completely maxed out, my only relief is when they would get caught by a traffic signal. Then I'd think "Ah, I GOT YOU NOW!"

Yes, I was very happy for the ride to be over. But I was also happy to get out there for the experience. I hope to join them more often.

Pleasant Prairie Triathlon Report

Pleasant Prairie Triathlon
August 20, 2006

Just like the last 2 years I’ve done this race, I drive up on Saturday to pick up my packet and rack my bike. The packet pick-up opened at 11:00am. I arrived at about 10:55 and the line inside the Rec Plex was already about 100 people! Thankfully, though, most of them were not first-timers and things moved quickly. We got a primo goody bag which included a nice, rather large, backpack, technical shirt AND a hat. Definitely the best goody bag I’ve gotten all year!

I immediately affix my number to my bike and scurry over to rack my bike. Pleasant Prairie is one of those races that just assigns racks instead of individual spaces, so the earlier you get there, the better spot you get. And with that, I threw my bike on what was “the” best spot on the rack…at the end closest to the bike exit and entrance. Suh-weet. And that was it, I drove all the way up there, picked up my stuff and racked my bike and 15 minutes later, I got right back in the car to drive home. Good thing there isn’t much traffic on the weekends!

Getting up at 2:30am was, surprisingly, not difficult. I really look forward to this race each year, and this year was no different. I ate a peanut butter bagel and quietly threw all my things into the bag after going over my list one more time and I was out the door by 3am. The drive up to PP was, again, quick and painless. I had to drive my little, VERY LOW-TO-THE-GROUND car across this big field with what seemed like a million ruts and holes to get to the front of the lot. I was afraid I was going to bottom-out! After what felt like a 30 minute ride across the lot, I was able to squeeze right in at the front, closest to the shuttle bus. Things were working out very nicely!

It was a cool morning, but nothing crazy. The low temperatures overnight made the lake temperature drop just enough to allow this to be a wetsuit-legal race. I walked into transition just after 4:30am and they had it lit up enough to where you could begin to set up your transition area. After the usual set up, check, re-check and triple check of my things, I had plenty of time to just hang out and talk to some friends.

With the transition closing in about 15 minutes, Lauren Jensen, pro triathlete, comes up to my rack and racks her bike on the OUTSIDE of the rack, right in front of my bike. WTF! That is illegal, everyone knows this. There is no pro division in this race, and if there was, she would be assigned a special rack. Today, she was an age grouper, just like the rest of us. However, the rest of us have to follow the rules. Apparently, the rules don’t apply to Ms. Lauren Jensen as she set up her stuff and walked away. I was fuming (I still kinda am!).

OK, I thought to myself, her bike will be gone when I get out of the water anyway. See, Lauren gets to go in the first wave…with the men. Another “special little treatment” which doesn’t really seem fair to me. People in the first wave don’t have the obstacle of passing all the slower people who started in waves before you. Again, there’s no pro division, why doesn’t she have to start in the wave with the REST OF HER AGE GROUP?

I try really hard to let this go as I put my wetsuit on half way. I then make my way down to the furthest bank of porta potties, because I know the lines there will be shorter. However, someone must’ve let my secret out because there were over 50 people in line for these porta potties. I made some small talk with the people in line, prayed that the people in front of me would pee fast and kept glancing at my watch every couple of minutes. With about 9 minutes left before my wave started, I still had 12 people in front of me. I did one of the rudest things triathletes do…I begged to go to the front so I could get down to the beach for my start. When I see people pull this stunt, I always think to myself, “You have to plan this in…get in line with plenty of time before your start so you don’t have to cut in front of people!” But I was in line over 40 minutes! I was graciously let in front (most of these people still had over 20 minutes before they started). I took care of business and jogged down to the beach with just 4 minutes to spare…

I had to finagle my way to the front, which wasn’t easy with such a competitive group of women. But I knew I belonged there, so I wasn’t giving in. The horn sounded and we ran into the water. Almost immediately, I decided it was too warm and I wished I hadn’t worn my wetsuit. I’m about 50 yards into a .9 mile swim and I’m very warm…too warm. It felt like bath water to me (only not as clean). Ugh. I knew there were 74 people in my wave and I was pleasantly surprised to have such an easy start of the swim. No arms locking up, no getting kicked, no fighting for position. I saw about 7 girls jump out ahead of me. I figured I’d get a few of them toward the back end and there were probably going to be a couple that I wouldn’t see again until the finish.

After a comfortable, solid swim, I glanced at my watch as I crossed over the timing mat, and though it wasn’t lightening fast, I was happy with the time. I found my bike very quickly, made a smooth transition (unfortunately, I felt my socks were sopping wet) and jumped out on the bike course. It was a little chilly for the first 10 minutes of the ride. My fingers were freezing, but I knew that would pass as I dried off and started to warm up. PP’s bike course is mostly flat, with a couple hills where you have to ride over the highway. The roads were amazingly smooth. There were a lot of guys riding down the middle of the lane which made it tricky to pass at times. Several times, I’d pass a guy only to have him pass me right back. I call this the “I’m not gonna get passed by a chick” syndrome. Well, buddy, if I passed you the first time, I’m going to pass you again. You can count on that. But the next time I do it, I’m going to fly by you so fast, you won’t have a chance to catch up and I’m going to crush your confidence for the remainder of the ride! Did I mention I’m competitive?

It was pretty windy and every time I made a turn I thought, “OK, we’re going to get the tailwind now.” But with every turn, I was left hanging. Why does it feel like every time I turn, I’m riding directly head-on into the wind??? This is just cruel! More than once, the wind jerked the front wheel on me and I felt like I was going to be blown over. The nice thing about the wind being so strong is that’s all you hear…wind…you can’t hear how hard you’re breathing! When you’re about half-way through, the courses for the International and Sprint distances are combined. Now here is where it’s easy to crash! You’ve got all these newbies, and yes, I was new at one point too, but many of them don’t know the rules, nor do they bother to learn them. These are the people riding 3-4 people across so you can’t pass without going into the next lane. They’re also the ones that when you shout “on your left”, they either turn left and ride right into you or they turn around to find out why someone is yelling at them. They’re usually riding some form of mountain bike or hybrid. They usually have way too much nutrition with them (who needs 4 water bottles and 4 gels during the bike of a SPRINT race?), and they look like they did a full wardrobe change in T1. But we were all new once, and you gotta love the newcomers to our sport. However, where are the officials? I didn’t see one the entire ride. In fact, now that I think of it, I don’t think I’ve EVER seen an official on the PP course.

I jockeyed with this one guy for the entire second half of the bike, and I loved every minute of it. Just as I would think I’m going strong, this guy would show up and pass me, just to let me know I couldn’t get away. And as I would catch him, I’d give him this look as if to say “you’re not going to let me get away with this, are you?” It was a fun game of cat and mouse and I was almost sorry when the ride was over. We dismounted at almost the same time, smiled at each other and said “nice ride.” And although this wasn’t my fastest bike split on this course, I definitely had fun!

I ran over to my spot to rack my bike and guess what! The infamous Lauren Jensen had thrown her bike where mine was, and completely trashed what was left of my transition area. That BEOTCH! And there was another bike right next to hers (which also wasn’t the one that was originally racked there), so I had to move my bike down to the 3rd position. I went to throw my bike over the bar, but there were 3 transition bags (remember those fabulous back packs I mentioned we got as part of our goody bag??) in the way. They were so big and took up so much room, I had to try 3-4 times before I could get my bike to go onto the rack. And now I’m desperately trying to shake off how angry I am and focus on what I’m supposed to be doing next. Luckily, my running shoes weren’t moved too far away from what WAS LEFT OF my transition area, so I moved quickly (well, quickly FOR ME) out on to the run course.

Did I mention it was a beautiful day? We couldn’t have had better weather for this race. It was sunny with a few clouds, maybe mid-70s, and no humidity whatsoever. I really wanted to run strong, especially to off-set my poor run from Steelhead. I felt great, and although the splits weren’t quite as quick as I would’ve liked to see, I ran strong and felt incredibly good throughout the run. I stayed ahead of the guy I rode with the second half of the bike course (yay!). I saw a couple people I knew on the out and back and gave them some Hi-Fives. As I passed runners (hee, hee, I actually PASSED some runners!!) I gave them some words of encouragement. I finished strong and was cheered on by friends that had finished before me.

Unfortunately, this was the slowest time I’ve turned in of the 3 years I’ve done this race. And while that sucks, I really did have fun. And, yes, though I can be competitive, if we’re not having fun, why are we doing this?

Mountain Biking

So yesterday I went mountain biking for the first time in over a year. Now, I know that mountain biking is supposed to increase my bike handling skills, but are these people crazy? They expect you to ride over big boulders, huge tree roots sticking out, big logs and the occasional fabricated jump. Ridiculous, I tell you.

Within the first five minutes, I'm sweating my butt off on what was supposed to be a "casual" ride. I was getting smacked by tree branches, thorn bushes and I swear I ran into some poison ivy. And then, when you go to avoid a huge ass tree root sticking out....LOOK OUT, you're going to run into a tree!!

The turns can be very tight and are almost always blind, and you never know when another biker is coming. I thought I was going to pee my bike shorts after coming around a corner and almost riding head on into another mountain biker dude.

I wore a camel back, but I was too afraid to take my hands off the handle bars to take a drink. I'm sure I was white-knuckled as I rode down these obnoxiously steep hills. And if I wasn't flying down one, I was walking my bike to get up one. I was out of breath just walking my stupid, 30 pound mountain bike up the damn ravine.

And this is supposed to be FUN? THEN, when I stop to catch my breath, a huge swarm of mosquitoes comes over and I think I now have the West Nile Virus!

It was much harder than I remembered. And don't let your mountain biker friends tell you "Oh, we're gonna take it easy," What a crock of SH*T.

But I'll be back next week for more abuse.
I hate getting dirty.

URGENT!

This post has nothing to do with training or racing. This is about my work frustrations. Why is it that everyone needs everything done ASAP or TODAY or IMMEDIATELY? Every manager I work for thinks their stuff is MORE IMPORTANT than everyone else's. In fact, this week, I started a "list". Every time someone tells me something is URGENT or needs to be done IMMEDIATELY, I make a tick mark. Well, we're only 3 days into the week and I already have 11 tick marks. The problem is, they make me "jump" to get things done, but when the ball lands back in their court, it just sits there. Frustrating. Like the boy who cried wolf...

Steelhead 70.3 Race Report 2006

STEELHEAD TRIATHLON
AUGUST 5, 2006

This race sort of snuck up on me. It was over a month since my last race, which would normally mean I’d be completely nervous, however, the rest of my life has been so hectic, and I hardly had time to worry about Steelhead.

We arrived the afternoon before the race with just enough time to pick up my packet and do a little expo shopping before the first course talk. Kristin and I spent a few hours together that afternoon and it seemed she was much more calm this day than the weeks leading up to the race…this was good. After the course talk, we hopped in the lake to test out the water. It seemed too warm for me, but they already told us wetsuits would be allowed. Then we took a short bike ride, just to make sure everything was working properly before we racked the bikes for the evening.

The hotel was a dump, but does it really matter? As long as it’s clean and QUIET, I’m fine. And being close to the race site wasn’t so bad, either! After a quick, excellent dinner with some friends at Schu’s, we headed back to the hotel where I meticulously laid everything out for the next morning.

What should have been a solid 9 hours of sleep turned into stressful worrying about oversleeping! I was up at least once an hour looking at the clock. Why do I do this before EVERY SINGLE race? Well, 4:30 came around quickly, but I wasn’t sleeping much anyway, so let’s get the show on the road! I noticed it was rather warm out for this time in the morning and I thought we would be in for a really hot day. This comes back to bite me later.

Everything moved along quickly and I was in transition setting up by 5:15. The only problem was, the girl next to me on the rack (who was supposed to rack REALLY close to me) hadn’t shown up yet. I was afraid to walk away because I knew when she would come in to set up her bike, my stuff was going to get trashed. I set up my stuff, walked from swim in to my bike, to bike out and from bike in back to my bike. Easy. I saw many, many people I knew and found it hard to focus. As much as I love racing with my friends, I sometimes get caught up in chatter and forget what I’m really there to do: RACE. I looked for Russ, who I promised to give some salt tablets, but I never found him. It’s time to go get on the shuttle…girl next to me hasn’t shown up. Oh well, I thought, I can just hope for the best!

The shuttle to the swim start was very quiet. I talked to the young guy from Colorado sitting next to me and was happy we were about to get things started. The time went quickly as I had to get in line for the rest room, get my wetsuit on, find my husband and get on the pier for my wave. There was little time to worry about the race.

I’m not a big fan of jumping off the pier. Sure, it’s different, but I’m always afraid the person/people behind me are going to jump on me. And what if my goggles fall off? And what if I jump on someone else? Well, all that didn’t matter much as the gun went off, I jumped in, and it went pretty smoothly. Within 200 yards, I knew there was some stiff competition out there. I knew I was not in the lead. I knew there were at least 3-4 women ahead of me, maybe more. OK, just chill, find someone to draft off of and conserve for the rest of the race. It’s not an Ironman, but this is still a really long race. A fast swim doesn’t really buy you much.

I got hit a few times, but found a good draft and stuck with it for about the whole second half of the swim. The run from the swim to T1 was BRUTAL! Running uphill in sand is just painful on the quads. I was so happy to reach the boardwalk. I passed several men, just walking to T1, probably trying to catch their breath. I got to my bike, the girl who was supposed to rack right next to me was a no show! Sweet! I made what I felt was a pretty quick transition and off I went!

My game plan for the bike was to give it maybe 80%. Stay in the heart rate zone 3. Don’t make it hurt. Conserve for the run. Ride comfortably. I even had a goal time I was shooting for. There were LOTS of pack riding and LOTS of drafting and I didn’t see one official. Women I would jockey back and forth with would finally pass me…because they’d be drafting of a couple of guys. HEY, I thought, ANYONE CAN DRAFT AND PASS ME, YOU CHEATERS!!! How frustrating! It was tempting to jump on the back wheel of these people, but you know, I didn’t want to be a cheater. What’s the point??

The bike was great. Steelhead is really a nice course, with a mostly flat bike on roads that are so smooth, you wonder how come the roads here in Illinois are so crappy. As I neared the end of the bike, I was right on my goal time. I was happy, headed in for a very quick T2, heard my husband yell some encouraging words to me, and I was off on the run.

The beginning of the run felt slow. But the runs always feel that way for me, and I was pleasantly surprised when I got to mile 1 and I realized I wasn’t all that slow!! It’s a mind game, these races, and I need to remind myself of that some times. But as the run went on, the miles got slower…and slower…and I was reduced to a walk around mile 10. What had started out as a great day became miserable and felt like torture. Though I never felt like quitting, I felt like the end was never going to come. I became dizzy and nauseous and my heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. And it wasn’t that hot. In fact, I remember earlier in the run thinking about how PERFECT the temperature was.

In looking back, that perfect temperature was my enemy. I thought it was going to be so hot, I loaded myself up on the salt tablets. The truth is, I probably OD’d on them. I didn’t know there was such a thing, but there is. And how I felt toward the end of that run verifies that little fact. I kept making little “deals” with myself. OK, run to that next guard rail…or you can run to the next aid station. Why do I DO THIS TO MYSELF, I thought.

I saw many friends on the out and back run and they looked great. I knew it was just a matter of time before most of them caught me…and several of them did. But I finished. With my 3rd slowest ever half ironman time. Am I happy about it? No. Am I angry? No. It is what it is. I can’t change it. It was a beautiful day, a beautiful course and I was able to finish injury-free. All I can do is focus on doing better next time…yeah, next time!

Swimming at the lake

Swim at the lake was pretty uneventful. LOTS of people out there today! Sometimes it can be pretty dangerous because some swimmers come at you head on and they seem to NEVER sight. These are probably the people you see in races going completely off course.

We found some street parking at a meter. Why do we have to pay parking meters on Saturday? And who carries around $2.00 in change to feed the stupid meter? Just one of the little things that irks me about downtown.

I will be downtown again tomorrow as a SPECTATOR at the Chicago Distance Classic. It will be kinda cool to go to a race without having the pressure of DOING the race! I just hope I don't have that feeling of "Man, I should've signed up, I feel like running!"

Steelhead race report soon to come...

Open Water Swim

This weekend, I will be going down to the lake to conduct an Open Water Swim clinic. For those of us in Chicago, Lake Michigan provides the perfect training ground to train for open water swims. This year, they even have 1/4 and 1/2 mile markers in the water so you can tell how far you've gone. People swim along the shoreline, and at any time, the water is shallow enough for you to stand up, so it gives you a little extra confidence.

Although getting down to the lake can be tricky (traffic, parking, etc.), once you get there, it's a wonderful experience. There's almost always other "crazies" with wetsuits jumping in for a quick swim. And there are always people walking, running, rollerblading or bike riding along the lakefront, so the scenery is always changing. It's pretty cool to swim alongside the beautiful Chicago lakefront. And it's ideal training for the upcoming Accenture Chicago Triathlon.

IM CDA Race Report 2006

This race was in June of this year. Comments on this report is what prompted me to start the blog. Enjoy.

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The morning of IMCDA came very quickly for me. I was surprisingly calm all the way up until I put my wetsuit on. As I was getting ready to walk to the water, I gave my husband a kiss, he wished me good luck and I told him I felt like I had to puke. The nervousness finally set in. It was time to go.
Unlike Ironman Wisconsin, where you are treading water before the start, IMCDA is a beach start. So here we have 2300 people in wetsuits, standing on the beach ready to enter the water any second. The thought of getting all those people horizontal in a very short period of time made me shudder. With about 5 minutes before the start, I ran in the water ever so quickly, just enough to get my hair and goggles wet…it’s a habit I developed way back when I started swimming. I jumped back on the beach and wished Bernie good luck.
Then the cannon went off. It seemed a slow start as people walked in much further than you’d expect before they started swimming. I was all the way in waist-deep water before I took one last push from the bottom of the lake and hoped for the best! Within seconds, I lost sight of Bernie. There were arms and legs flailing everywhere!! I got hit in the back. Then the head. Then my arm got tangled up with someone on my left. Then my arm got tangled up with someone on my right. This continued for at least 300 yards and I wanted to cry. I was getting the crap kicked out of me at what was supposed to be my strongest event. I was yelling underwater for people to quit it, but they couldn’t. Just as I couldn’t move to my left or right, I figured neither could they. I swam tarzan-like for almost the entire first length of the rectangle-shaped course. With the Swedish goggles I wear (ones with no foam), I knew that if I got kicked in the face, I was going to get cut.
Though the day before during my swim warm up, I complained of how cold the water was, the 62 degrees were the least of my problems on race day. I didn’t even notice the temperature. I finally realized I was about 15 feet from the buoys on the course and decided to change my strategy back to the one I used at IMWI – go WIDE. I just needed to get away from all these people hitting me because I was getting so angry I was wasting energy on it.
Instead of turning at the buoy, I kept going straight…to get out of the crowd. Worked like a charm. Now there was absolutely no one to my right and I was far enough away to keep from making contact with people on my left. I drafted off some dude I thought was Bernie…until I saw how sloppy his stroke was. Sloppy, but it worked enough for me to draft, so I followed him. This swim course requires you to get out after one loop and cross a timing mat, then you jump back in. Talk about losing momentum! I went back to the outside and had a fabulous, strong remainder of the swim. In fact, in the last 200 yards, I decided to actually "push" a little. The rest of my swim was mostly at what I would call "warm up" pace.
I got to the water’s edge, got to my feet and ran to the wetsuit strippers. Very clear these volunteers were new as they practically dragged me along the grass trying to get the wetsuit off! I pushed it down further past my waist and yelled "go, pull it now!" It came off easily that time and I ran to find my T1 bag amongst all 2300 other ones. I found it quickly and ran into the changing tent. Once again, the inexperience of the volunteers was obvious as they kept moving my things around until I finally said, "please, stop touching my things!" while I was still trying to catch my breath. They were no help at all, which made me realize how spoiled I was at IMWI.
I ran to my bike grabbed it and started running when a volunteer yelled that I was going in the wrong direction! I thought to myself, "Thanks dumbass, why didn’t you tell me BEFORE I started running the wrong way!" I mean, it was NOT crowded when I got out of the water. That’s the one positive of being a strong swimmer…I should have been catered to at that point.
I ran to the mount line and it was like beginner-city. Two men in front of me fell off their bikes trying to get on in a hurry. One lost both water bottles and apparently decided his time was too important to stop and pick them up. Hey, people, it’s a freakin’ IRONMAN, not a sprint, get your crap together, take your time and get on your bike without getting hurt! "What’s with these people???" I thought. How could that guy leave all his nutrition at the beginning of the bike course!???! Whatever, I got on my bike and rode off.
My whole Ironman plan was centered around just one thing: a consistent heart rate on the bike, around mid-zone 3 for me. I had worn my HR monitor through the swim and had strapped my watch on the bike. I hit the start button as I rode through the small town of Coeur d’Alene and waited for the number to show up. One little problem…the number wouldn’t register. The watch read 00. I fiddled with the watch and with my chest strap, wondering if maybe it would start reading when the chest strap dried out. I kept telling myself to just calm down, it will work. Just stay focused.
Then I noticed I couldn’t see out of my left eye. I kept blinking and sure enough, my contact popped out! At mile 12 or so, I stopped to put it back in. I was a bit embarrassed as spectators asked me if I was OK. Man, I’d BETTER be OK considering as I’m only 12 miles into a 112 mile ride! Sheesh! The contact didn’t feel so good, but it was in and I could see, so I took off. Played more with my watch, not working. Mile 15, contact came out again. WTF! Pull over, tell the spectators I’m fine, and ride off. Now it’s stinging, probably from the salt on my fingers getting into my eye. Whatever, I got a ride to do. Between, mile 18 and 19, contact pops out again. YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! So I rip it out and continue the rest of the ride with just one contact in. Who cares, I’ve done this before!
After 2 hours of playing with the stupid watch and HR monitor, I gave up. "I’m just going to have to guess at what my HR is" I told myself. Not the best plan, but I couldn’t think of anything better. I felt sorry for myself as I thought about all the time and training I put in to this race and now it was all screwed up! My only goal was to stick to my heart rate in the bike, and now I couldn’t do it. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME!???
The course was absolutely beautiful and did take my mind off how frustrated I was. There were hills and trees and farmland and it was breathtaking. People kept passing me left and right on the bike, but that’s typical for me and I worked hard at not "chasing" them. There were 2 tough hills, rather close together, and I got through them the first time OK. I had all my calories with me on the bike, so I only took water at the aid stations, and I grabbed a bottle of water at every aid station. I felt fine after my first loop and was happy with my time so far.
Then it got hot. And it got windy. Damn, this is just like what happened at IMWI! I’m sorry, 90 degrees is just too hot for a strong Ironman performance! But you know, everyone had to compete in the same conditions, so I kept riding, just a bit more slowly! A good friend, Joe, passed me around mile 62. I caught him quickly and asked him why he couldn’t say hi, and we rode together for just a minute or two before I told him to go on. He was having a phenomenal bike and as much as I would’ve loved the company and to stay with him, I knew that wasn’t in my plan and I didn’t want to hold him back.
"Special Needs" are on the bike and run courses, about half way through. They are bags you can put whatever you need to get you through the race. People put in there spare tires, shoes, food, drink, you name it. I rolled in to get my bike special needs bag and yelled out my number. The volunteer yelled back "It’s not here." I’m like, what do you mean, it’s not there, and I yelled my number again. She ran around, looking like a chicken with her head cut off and apologized, but my bag was nowhere to be found. Dejected, I pulled away from special needs and decided today just wasn’t my day.
The second time through those 2 hills was extremely tough and I thought about quitting. I was already off my game by not being able to follow my plan, I lost a contact, it’s too hot out here, they lost my special needs bag and I hate hills. I thought to myself "I’m stopping at the next aid station and I’m calling a SAG wagon. Screw this, Ironmans aren’t for me!" But one I got over the hills and got to enjoy the scenery and the downhill, I felt better. I passed a few people back towards the end of the second loop even though I was very uncomfortable and wanted to get off the bike. Well, I guess that’s what 112 miles does to you.
I slowed down to the dismount line where they take your bike. But, I forgot to stop! I couldn’t unclip and I ran into 3 volunteers and apologized profusely! I was really wobbly when I got off the bike and ran to find my T2 bag. THIS time, a volunteer stood there for me, bag in hand. "Now THIS is how it’s SUPPOSED to be" I thought to myself!
At this transition, I had 2 volunteers helping me. The first thing I did was rip through that bag to find the extra contact lens I put in there. They asked if I needed a mirror…yeah, right! The new contact went in, no problem, and felt comfortable. I made a full wardrobe change, put body glide everywhere and I was on my way.
My husband saw me immediately as I came out of the changing tent and yelled to me to ask how I was feeling. I was afraid to look at him because I thought I might start crying and I just shook my head. I was still frustrated and ticked off about all the things that had gone wrong so far and still thought about just stopping right there. I thought if I could just get into a groove on the run, I’ll be OK.
I looked down at my watch to note the time, since I had to down a gel every 30 minutes and, DAMMIT, NOW MY HEART RATE MONITOR WAS WORKING! WTF! I wanted to whip that thing into the crowd at that point! Where were you when I needed you on the bike??! That’s it, Polar and I need to have a little conversation!
The run was more like a walk/run (emphasis on the walk). For those of you that haven’t done an Ironman, it’s a very long, tough day, and you start to wonder what the hell you’re doing out there. Can’t it just be over now? For those of you that have done an Ironman, you know what I’m talking about. And you know you can’t just quit unless there is some pressing reason to! I mean, how could I look all of you in the face and tell you I quit because I just didn’t feel like going anymore??
The times I ran, I felt strong and my run times were right on my expectations. I passed the time by looking for my racing buddies on the out and back. I saw them all, several times and spotted Angie (former Black Sheep, BAAA) looking just fabulous! Every time I saw her, she was smiling and running strong. The Ironman Gods shined upon her this day.
Unfortunately, my stomach doesn’t like Ironman races and decides to shut down on me. I know I tend to drink too much, so I just asked for ice instead of water. Right after Mile17 and my required gel, I yacked it right back up with a ton of liquid. I HATE PUKING! That’s it, no more gel for MJ. But I have too far to go to survive it on water alone. Here’s where the cola came in. Normally, I hate regular cola, but that day, it tasted like gold and I couldn’t get enough. I kept getting an ice and a cola, dumped the ice in the cola, waited a few seconds and chugged the cola like someone was going to steal it from me. After a huge belch, I started to feel pretty good! LOL! It became routine for the next several miles.
The run on the IMCDA course has many miles along the same lake we swam in. There were lots of little piers with some people swimming, some boats docked, and others just bare. I kept thinking, if I could just jump in the water for a minute or two to cool down, I’ll bet the rest of this race would be a piece of cake! It was so tempting.
And now, the sun is setting and I’m shocked to see myself actually passing people. Apparently, the heat wasn’t affecting me as bad, or because I hadn’t "blown my wad" on the bike, I was able to keep moving strong. At mile 21, I looked at my watch, did a couple of calculations and realized I could break 14 hours. Your mind tends to play games on you when you’re going for that long and I didn’t realize I had plenty of time to break that barrier. So I ran. And I caught another runner….and another one…and the momentum built…and I started to feel so good. I wondered where this feeling was earlier on in the run. The spectators cheered for me as I was one of the very few people running at that point, and that just gave me more energy. Everyone calls out your name because they print it on the bib, and it really does a lot for me. I pushed as hard as I could for that last mile and, no matter how fast or slow I was going, in my head I was flying! I felt smooth and comfortable as I hammered my way into the finish.
When you hit that final half mile and there are spectators lined up 5 and 6 people deep on both sides of you, they cheer for you like you’re winning the Olympics. It doesn’t matter if you do a 9 hour race or a 16 hour race, the spectators truly make you feel like you’re a hero. Many kids AND adults held out their hands for me to slap them five as I ran into the chute and I hit as many hands as I possibly could…and I remembered to smile. I cannot believe how rough the day started for me, but I kept going, and now it’s over.

IMCDA 2006
13:52
Will there be another?