Ironman Florida Race Report 2011

Before I start with this report, I have a couple things to note. This was my 3rd time doing Ironman Florida. There's definitely an advantage to knowing what the course is going to bring. This was also Ironman #10. In the weeks leading up to this race, I've been considering taking a break from the Ironman distance. No matter how many of these events you do, they never seem to get any easier.


It really didn't get light out until about 15 minutes before the race, the sun started coming up. It was a brisk 52 degrees and while I wasn't worried about the temperature in the water, I was very concerned with the temperatures and predicted wind for the bike portion. Earlier than usual, I parted from the best training partner in the world and went to line up to get in the water. I needed alone time to focus and I wanted a contact-free swim start.
No, you can't see me in this photo, but I'm probably as far away as you can get from this shot. Yes. It was by design.

The anxiety is worst in the last 10 minutes before the cannon fires. But once it goes off, it's all about doing what you've been training for and the nerves disappear. It was a very gentle start and the water was fairly calm. The announcer said there was a current, but I didn't notice much. About 200-300 yards in, the water jumped about 10 degrees. It felt absolutely wonderful but I was confused. Shouldn't the water be warmer in the shallow part? Whatever, it felt good on my face and hands. I made the first turn and was disgusted by the number of athletes cutting the course. This was way worse than in 2009 or 2007 when I only noticed it on the second loop. Dear North American Sports - PLEASE do something about this! There has to be a way to make these swimmers STOP CUTTING the last buoy! The buoys are supposed to be on your LEFT throughout the swim. Where the hell are all these people going? Make the second turn and I see the coolest looking jellyfish! Well, it was just like the pictures you see - it was awesome. It was deep enough that I didn't worry too much and I was excited as this was only my second jellyfish sighting in my life. Then I looked up and they were EVERYWHERE! I had to dodge a few, but most were deep enough that they weren't an issue. I tried not to think about them too much. I was too busy wishing the guy drafting off me would quit hitting my feet. I kicked hard a few times, just to let him know he was agitating me, but he hit me regularly. As it got shallow, the water got cold again. We get to the end of the first loop and I hear him laugh behind me. As I got up to start running across the timing mat, I turned to him and told him it was his turn to take the lead. He stopped laughing. Heard some cheers for me and wondered how the hell people recognized me with a wetsuit, cap and goggles on!

Second loop was uneventful - more jellyfish, same temperature change, same thing with athletes cutting the last buoy (come on guys, you know you have to go to the RED buoy before you make the turn!!), but no drafter on this loop. Yay. As I get to the end, I hear more cheers and try to muster a smile as I ran across the mat. I ran under the showers, splashed some fresh water on my face and ran to T1. The calves DO NOT LIKE running in sand, but thankfully, that pulling sensation went away as soon as I hit solid ground.
I found my bag before the volunteers (I do go over this the day before as you never know if a volunteer will even be there or not) and it felt like an eternity before I hit the changing area. I sat down and had about 4 volunteers helping me. It wasn't until after I pulled on a jersey and started putting armwarmers on that I realized one of those volunteers was Barbara Shoemaker! I said Hi to her, but she didn't respond. Weird. They helped me put the armwarmers and gloves on. I had toe covers with handwarmers tucked underneath on my shoes - did I mention I don't like to be cold? I put on the helmet, grabbed my sunglasses and though the transition was a little slow, I was now prepared for the chilly conditions.

The volunteers hindered me more than helped me get by bike, I was positioned right near the bike exit and by the time I got there, there were not 1, not2, but THREE volunteers standing IN THE AISLE where my bike was. I yelled "excuse me!" and went to grab my bike. I sorta had to push through them. As I got my bike off the rack, there was another volunteer directly across from me, with a bike pulled off the rack blocking the aisle asking, "whose bike is this?" I had to yell again, "excuse me!" to get him to move so I could get out. UGH. I got out on the course and the frustration left.


Wow. Ccccccooooooolllllldddd! I was so happy I put on the extra shirt, gloves and armwarmers. I was very chilly. Now I hear a noise. It was in rhythym with my pedaling, I slowed, the noise slowed. I went faster, so did the noise. What the??? Damn...the sticker I used to cover the hole in my disc was flapping. Crap. OK, it's just gonna fall off sooner or later. But ridiculously annoying in the meantime! I rode conservatively and comfortably. It was windy. Really windy. A couple times, the gusts would move me and my bike, but I am still happy with my decision to use the disc. At some point, I saw Dan and Kurt and they rode in a car alongside me for a few minutes. HUGE pick me up, thanks guys!

The first out and back section was rough - the road was really bumpy. I searched for a smooth path only to come up empty. Just after the turnaround was special needs. I didn't have anything there, so I kept riding. Then I felt something hit my leg and as I looked down, I saw the shadow of all my flat tire fixing equipment falling off my bike. Uh oh. Should I stop to pick it up? Um....I could, but...no. Forget it. Hope I don't flat! I wondered how that fell off for about 5 minutes then forgot about it. Mike Boyle came up, we chatted for a few seconds, and off he went. That was a nice distraction.

Mile 80. I feel good. Mile 90. I want this to be over. The speed was nice on the way back in. It felt good, but I still had to push. The way out was rough and I know this ride is considerably slower than the last time I rode here. I stayed true to my plan and backed off my ride a little in hopes that it left me a stronger run.

The last stretch in was RIDICULOUSLY slow! It was a straight-on headwind and the only thing that kept me sane was that I knew we were almost done with the bike. It felt like we were crawling. Then in the last mile or so, there was a bunch of sand across the road that was blowing into our faces and I held my breath and closed my eyes as the gusts blew sand everywhere. You had to see it to believe it.

I handed my bike off, easily found my run bag and ran into transition. I had 2 volunteers help me there - and they were very nice - and convinced me to take off my armwarmers. I considered taking off the bike jersey, but opted to keep it on. I also kept the gloves. I wasn't frozen, but I was far from warm. I changed shoes, put my Gu in my jersey pockets and off I went. I felt slow, but good. Saw lots of Team Tri Smart members and smiled. It's always great to see familiar faces along the course. As I hit the first mile and saw my split, I was like, "I need to slow down!" I did slow down for the next few miles and hit cruising pace. I still had my gloves on and felt comfortable. I hit the first round of Inspiration Station and someone put an awesome message in there. "M. Slikas: DO IT AGAIN" Wow. I still don't know who did that - so if it was you, please let me know! I LOVED it!! I smiled and held the pace.

On the way back toward transition/finish, I saw Team Spectate again. They were just awesome and their cheers are priceless.


The first loop was effortless. But I saw a few women pass me whom I believed to be in my age group. In my head, I was frustrated. I am out of the running. I'm in 5th place with 13 more miles to go. It got hard. I fought with myself. I smiled for the cameras, but I was hurting. My hamstrings hurt. My quads ached. I started walking aid stations. I got to the second round of Inspiration Station and the message read, "M. Slikas: HERE YOU ARE" WHO IS WRITING THESE???? They were absolutely perfect and it was the push I needed. My time was slowing, but I knew if I kept running, my time would still be respectable. I kept wanting to see more of my spectator friends. Oh, friends, you don't know how much I needed to hear your cheers!! I was in a bad place and was struggling to keep the wheels from falling off. With 2 miles to go, I heard someone yell my number and then another number...of another woman IN MY AGE GROUP! Oh hell no, NO ONE ELSE IS PASSING ME! I kicked it in. It was very painful. It was then that the calves started screaming, threatening to seize like they had in the week before IMWI. No, no, no, no...just finish. I dug deep. I saw Team Spectate and Jeff Shoemaker took what I thought was the best photo of the day.
The sun was setting. I was struggling. I needed the cheers. I was pushing. Leaving it all out there. I need to be done. I passed 3 guys in the last mile and got frustrated at the volunteer who yelled at me that I needed to go out to the second loop. He yelled at me several times that I needed to make the turn. Dude, I know where I am, leave me alone! It hurts!!! Hurry! I. NEED. TO. BE. DONE. NOW. And then...I hear, "MJ Sli..#)($#@^)& from Oakland, er, Orland Park, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!"

I sat dejected and unable to move in the finisher area. Snips was a Godsend as she waited on me and lots of other finishers. I figured I finished in 6th place in my AG and was very upset with my run. It was not where I wanted it to be. After sitting in the finisher area for over an hour, it wasn't until I got home to the condo to look at the computer and see the results. MJ Slikas - 3rd. WHAT??! That means those women that passed me were on their FIRST LOOP of the run! DAMN myself for letting that get in my head. This sport is definitely mental.

I now have a date in Kona in October 2012. I guess I'm not taking a break from the Ironman distance just yet....

TTT

Is Triple T harder than Ironman? I say no. However, I guess it's how you decide to play it. I went into the weekend not really knowing what to expect - except that I would NOT redline any of the events. First, I was in no way trained well enough. Second, who knows how the body will respond by doing a super sprint one day, two Olympics the next day and a half Ironman the third day? I didn't want to spend the next couple of weeks recovering from this. So let's do it.

Arrive around 2:15pm on Friday - first race is at 5pm. Find out assigned race jersey (which is required for all events) is too small. Go figure. Hustle to room and scrounge for food. No time to leave and get food, just eat some of the snacks we brought for the ride. Can't find parking near event. Circle around and go back to hotel, switch all gear to a backpack and ride down to race with all gear in tow.

I'm number 58 - how did I get here? Oh, they seeded you by your fastest Half Ironman time (now I wish I sandbagged that time). Don't even have time for a warm up swim, besides, I heard the water is pretty cold. Off we go - time trial start, by 2s, 3 seconds apart. I meet the nicest guy who I'd start with all weekend - Chris from Canada. One of the nicest guys I've ever met. Get in the water, hyperventilate for about 75 yards, then settle into a flow. Turn around - oh, it's time to get out. Only 250 yard swim. Really? On to bike - keeping HR low - up a hill. Slow. Manage watts - wait...PowerTap goes blank. Are you kidding me? Who cares, it's only 5 miles. Back to transition, out on the run. HR feeling high. How long is just ONE MILE, anyway? Damn, feels long. Finish. Some food provided at end of race. Normally, I wouldn't touch it, but I was starving. One done. Three to go.

Back to hotel, shower, discuss the day - head out for food. There is absolutely NO CELL SERVICE in the area. No email, no calls, no texts. Weird. Drive around for about 30 minutes before finding a pizza buffet. Cheap. Eat, go back and prepare for the next day. First race - regular Olympic distance. First climb on the bike about a 14% grade. Yay. Pace yourself. Went about the pace I felt I could do all day. Goal was to get both Olympic races the same time. FREEZING out of the swim on the bike. Wished we were riding in some sunshine. Wished I put arm warmers on. Run OK, nothing great. Hilly ride and run.

Go back to hotel, shower, wash jersey and hope it dries before next race @ 3pm. Athletes are pretty low-key....arriving to transition very close to race start. Different type of feeling to this event, hard to describe. Take a nap. Shovel in some food and head down for an Olympic that is Bike-Swim-Run. Heard nasty stories of people getting off bikes and jumping into the 58 degree water and cramping up. I'm just gonna chill. Did the bike - challenging, but not as bad as the morning course. Ripped my wetsuit putting it on but NO WAY was I getting in that water without one. Felt refreshing, but my chafing from the run earlier in the day stung. Stung bad. I know I screamed. Passed LOTS of dudes in the water. Made me smile. Out on the run, all those dudes got me back. :( Tried to hold same pace as the morning. Couldn't do it. HOT! Not used to the high temperatures.

Showered again, ate in the room. Had to pay for internet service. Packed up all my stuff since they wouldn't give us a late enough checkout to shower after race. Went to bed pretty early.

On Half Ironman day, I decided to start later. In case you haven't had this experience, being a strong swimmer, decent biker and mediocre runner can be pretty taxing in the mental department. People pass you all day long. Somewhere during the weekend, I decided that passing someone in the swim is not as satisfying as passing them in the bike or run. Just isn't. Swim felt great. Love the time trial start, no thrashing arms and legs to be scared of. Just the ice cold water and my rhythym. Felt nice.

Out on the bike. Brutal. Climbs are hard - wishing I had more gears or a compact crank. Got passed A LOT. Downhills were not better as my back wheel slipped on the first hairpin turn going downhill. I was overcautious for the rest of the ride on the downhills. I don't want to kill a season trying to decend like a fool when I really wasn't in contention for anything. Rode the brakes. A lot. Probably should replace them now.

On to the run. Very hot. SLOW. Just keep moving - only walked up hill. That's because I probably walked up some of those hills faster than I could run them! As usual, picked up my pace in the second half of my run. Not sure why, but I always have a better second half run. Maybe I need to do more brick training. One of the aid stations I had to grab a used cup and dip it in a garbage can full of water. Nasty! But I was so thirsty! It was near 90 degrees. Not complaining, I love the heat, but I needed water!! Descended my splits the last 4 miles of the run. Felt good to actually PASS some people on the run!

I felt great. Yes, my legs are pretty cashed still - but I still think it was easier to break up the 140.6 miles over 3 days than to try and to it all in one day. Especially on that course. The second loop of the bike on Sunday was mentally challenging. I didn't want to be out there anymore. But I came out to finish. And I did. Time for the next challenge.

Great Illini Half Ironman Race Report

Though I'd had this race in mind for the last couple of months, I just signed up about a week ago for this event. I was tossing around the idea of doing the Full Ironman Aquabike here (2.4 swim followed by 112 run), as I did last year. However, the thought of getting in another half ironman in this year to prepare for Ironman Arizona sounded appealing.

Unlike last year, the predicted weather was just perfect for racing. We picked up Jess and arrived in transition at about 5:15am. We pulled up right next to AJ and then Caroline pulled in rightnext to us! Not sure how many total participants in this race, but transition is tiny. I like tiny - fast transitions! I was too late to get the first spot on the rack, but second wasn't bad. Truthfully, there is not a bad spot in all of this transition area.

I helped Elizabeth with a little tire problem and was pretty distracted...so distracted that when I was about to get into the water, the Saint asked, "hey, where's your chip?" I HAD FORGOTTEN TO PICK IT UP! Yikes! I ran over, pickedit up and slapped it on my ankle. I skipped body marking all together. (did I mentionI was distracted?) My feet were really cold, so I got in the water to warm them up. Swam a couple strokes and the water was a good temperature. Walked over to Caroline, got this quick photo and jumped over to line up for the start.

The first section of this swim is directly into the sun. The buoys are pretty far apart and it was a bit difficult to see them with the sunglaring in my face. After the first turn, I was already running into people from the previous wave. It was easier to see now. After the second turn, I had to stop more than once to find the next buoy...spaced too far apart. I didn't trust that the swimmers in front of me were on the right track. The swim felt good and I ran into transition and got out of there in a hurry. Nice to have small transition areas!

This was my first race on the new aerobars. I know I didn't put in as much time on them as I should have, but theyfelt pretty good. I had to rearrange the aerobottle and computer, so the whole set up was a new experience for me. Seems to have worked out! The first 10 miles of the course was turn after turn after turn. There was no time to get up to speed before having to slow down to go around a corner. Thankfully, the volunteers learned this year that we do not want unopened water bottles on the bike! They still don't realize it's easier to hand us bottles as they run in the same direction we're riding, though. My handoffs were pretty good because they had the stops right after the U turns on the course. I need to practice getting through those faster!

Once we got out further into the course, it felt windy in almost every direction we rode. Not terrible, but enough to make it loud in my ears. Lots of unleashed dogs running out onto the course. Very dangerous! I heard one run up barking after me and I freaked out a little and started riding faster to make sure he didn't take a chunk outof my leg! I yelled at several others as I rode up to them...they were just standing in the street and would begin chasing biker after biker as we rode by. Insane! I was working on keeping a steady power output. It turned out to be not quite what I was looking for, but taking into consideration all the slowing for the turns and U turns on the course, it wasn't too bad. Not a very fast bike split for me. I was getting uncomfortable in places I don't want to talk about and was happy to see transition up ahead.

Super fast transition (about 40 seconds I think) and I was off and running. My toes on both feet were numb. It's not fun to run when you can't feel your toes. I think it took until mile 3 for them to warm up. Note to self: put on toecovers when it's below 70 degrees in the morning! I've never complained of my feet being too hot during a race. The run course was rather boring. It was a "C" shape and to cover the 13.1 miles, you had to go out and back and out and back...I cannot imagine the people doing the full ironman today...they had to do that FOUR TIMES! Good God! Had some pain in one foot...something I've never felt before, but it didn't seem to slow me down. I stuck with my regular nutrition on the run and felt good until around mile 10 when the hamstring pain kicked in. I slowed, but not too much. I only ran the second "lap" 1 minute slower than the first one. I was happy to be done.

Weather conditions were perfect...aside from the little wind on the bike, the day was just beautiful. Don't get many days like that, so you have to enjoy them when you get them! I'm now suffering from a considerable amount of chafing. And now the Ironman training begins.

Pleasant Prairie Triathlon

Of all the triathlons I've been fortunate enough to participate in, Pleasant Prairie has always been among my favorites. It's close to home, very well organized, the swim is one of the best venues, the bike course is mostly flat and the run takes you around the lake. Last year, it was pouring rain for about 18 hours before and up until the original race start. I dreaded racing last year because of the wet pavement.


Talk about an absolute opposite change in conditions today! It was chilly, maybe 62 degrees at the start, but the ground was dry as a bone and there was not a cloud in the sky (the sun wasn't up yet!). I forgot that transition closed at 6am because the race started at 6:30am! I think that's the earliest race start I've ever seen.


The racks were pretty jam-packed and there were a few women nearby complaining about it. What are you gonna do? You don't like it up where it's crowded, move your bike. I tried to ignore them, but I couldn't...I knew these are the same women I'd be battling it out with on the course. I tried not to let them bother me.

Almost brainlessly, I set up transition and waited for MN to finish setting up her stuff. A quick walk over to the "secret" porta potties revealed they weren't so secret. We had about a 15 minute wait and transition was closed before we got back. I then realized I had forgotten to leave a gel in there for the run. I easily snuck into transition to leave a gel with my running shoes, then began peeling off my outer layers to squirm into my wetsuit. A little mishap with the wetsuit zipper stressed me out for about 5 minutes, but it was under control in plenty of time before the race started.

In order to get to the front of the swim start, I camped out by the rail that corraled the upcoming waves. Piece of cake, I was in the front row on the outside for the start, right where I like to be. The horn went off and some girl ran in 3 big steps and took a huge dolphin dive and immediately got a good lead. DAMN! I swam along side one woman for about 200 yards until she petered out...then I just happened to see a light purple cap (my color) in front of me. Well, we must be about the same ability if we're both out here, so I jumped on her heels. She was quick and I was working harder than I'm used to, but I knew the draft was a good thing. She was swimming a little crooked, but every time I tried to get around her, I never made up ground. I decided it best to just stay on her feet. She was doing an awesome job navigating around the other swimmers and once she cleared the way for me, I had less effort to put in.
I stayed on her heels until the finish. One of the best swims I've ever had in this distance. Thank you, whatever your name is!

I was able to get out of the water and had the wetsuit half way off before I reached my bike. My breathing was a bit labored, but I knew I'd settle in on the bike after a few minutes. I seemed to be the first bike off my rack, but I still had this feeling that first dolphin-swimmer-girl was out there somewhere.

Due to construction, the bike course was changed this year. It was 2 loops of the sprint course, which I wasn't really happy about. The first half of the ride was more scenic. All too quickly, I was making my way up the overpass and the quads started burning. I just pushed the chain down to the easiest gears and tried to spin up so I could catch my breath from the swim. I was breathing too hard. Then a nice little downhill and we're already making our first turn. This year, the wind was steady and I questioned the use of my disc wheel. The turns were plentiful and though the first loop was easy (and a little short, I noticed), the second loop was majorly crowded and I was tired of yelling "on your left!" just to have few people move. It's like they never heard it before. Many, many riders riding just to the right of the double yellow, so I'm forced to sit back, pass on the right (illegal) or cross the double yellow (also illegal). It was frustrating after a while. The entire bike leg, I felt sluggish, just never found my rhythym, I guess. I was happy to be off the bike and this was a short ride for me. Just not a bike day for me.

On to the run, I felt pretty good. No hamstring pain and my breathing was under control. I thought I could push harder, but I knew I was off the podium already. With 1 swimmer ahead, 1 passed me on the bike and then another passed me immediately on the run, I just decided to do my own race. I was comfortable all the way around. It was great to be able to see so many friends on the out-and-back-and-out-and-back course. You wanted to look strong at all times because you couldn't be sure who'd see you next!

Other than the wind getting a little gusty, this was just a beautiful day. Some thought it to be a bit warm on the run (there is absolutely not one speck of shade for you), but I found it nice. The wind actually cooled me off just enough. My last Olympic distance race was this same race last year. Hard to believe a year has gone by so fast.

Spirit of Racine Half Ironman

After spending all day working the Expo on Saturday standing on my feet, I wasn't quite sure what to expect for this race. I was feeling pretty relaxed about the whole thing because I haven't been able to get my run miles up where I'd like them to be. I hadn't run 13 miles since NOVEMBER! And the water temperature was said to be 56 degrees. It's one of the only times I was heard saying, "I don't want to do this swim."

Per the usual race ritual, I couldn't sleep the night before the race. Tossing, turning, looking at the clock every 15-20 minutes or so to make sure I wouldn't oversleep left me pretty tired when it came time to get out of bed. I looked out my hotel room window to see that it had rained overnight. I quickly got my things together and headed out to transition in the darkness.

I was surprised at how calm I was. Transition was set, a couple trips to the porta potty, I walked with CR to grab my wetsuit and prepare to walk the mile down the beach to the start. I had both a neoprene cap and some nifty neoprene booties. In fact, I tried the booties on in the hotel room the night before and they are quite comfortable! I am considering using these as my house slippers this winter. I put them on before the walk down the beach and my toes stayed nice and warm. (too bad they don't have gloves I can use)

It was very foggy - so foggy, they delayed the start of the race by 15 minutes...again, and again and again. Now the race was a full hour delayed. I silently hoped we weren't going to swim. The temperature was now 55 degrees and I went in for just a few second and it was shocking to the system! I was almost upset when they announced that the first wave was about to take off. Now I've spent so much time worrying about how cold the swim was going to be, I've practically forgotten about the fact that I still have to bike 56 miles and run 13 miles after that!

The fog was still thick when we started and sighting the buoys was challenging! I ran a few steps and jumped into the icy lake and kept my head out of the water the first 200 yards or so. It was a pretty smooth start, though...didn't get beat up too much. Once we turned to parallel the beach, there seemed to be plenty of space. I tried following the flow of athletes in front of me, but at points they were so spread out, it was impossible to know who was going in the right direction. A couple times, I had to stop and look around to find the next buoy before continuing on the swim. It felt long...I was tired of swimming. I just wanted out. A few people were walking and we were still no where close to the end of the swim. Finally, I spotted some trees so I knew we were getting close to the finish. Again, people stopping and walking well before they should...they made for a few obstacles for me! Once my hand hit the sand on the bottom, I stood up...still very far from shore. It's exhausting to try and run through almost knee-deep water! A quick check of the watch tells me the swim was probably 200-300 yards short.

I immediately heard MN yell for me out of the water. It was really cool...nice to have someone cheering for you. As I ran to transition while stripping off the top half of my wetsuit, I saw her running along side, talking to me. It was encouraging. She mentioned many people were off course. I don't doubt it, it was TOUGH to see anything out there!

After a surprisingly quick transition (tearing off booties and all!), I hopped on the bike. I had to go well past the mount line because there were several people just past the line trying to get on their bikes. It was already congested and we haven't even started yet! The guy in front of me was weaving as we workedour way up the incline. He almost took me out! I was a little chilled at first, but that quickly went away as I started pumping my legs on the pedals. We were forced on a very narrow strip of road and it was difficult to pass. Several "on your left" yells, and still people wouldn't move. They were riding right on the double yellow line. I even had one guy point to the right and tell me to go around him on the right. Um, no dude, you're blocking, YOU move to the right.

I was quite comfortable except for the rough patches of road. Temperature was good. It was a little windy in some sections and I could feel myself being pushed around, but it wasn't too bad. I nailed the nutrition, though I don't think I was getting enough water. The aid stations were crowded and I rode by a couple of them without grabbing a bottle because it just seemed too dangerous. I realized my computer was wrong...I hadn't erased the data from my last ride, so now I have no idea what mile I'm on. I then realized the mile markers were spray painted on the roads in 10 mile increments. 40...50...cool, just 6 more miles. I'm very uncomfortable now on my bike seat. My legs feel nice and strong, I just don't want to be on this bike any more.

It was relief to fly down the hill into transition, just a bit of a bummer that you can't really go as fast as you'd like. Another pretty smooth transition and I was off on the run. Now the sun was starting to peek out from the dissipating fog. There were two pretty challenging hills right at the start of the run that tweaked my hamstring. I shortened my stride and just went slower. Once up that second hill, it was flat and my heart rate dropped quickly. I was on a good, solid run pace. There were lots of familiar faces on the course. Sometimes, though, when someone would yell out, I wouldn't realize who it was until they were long gone. Again, very comfortable conditions...not too hot, not too cold. The shaded parts of the run were well spaced and a cool breeze kicked up every so often.

Once I reached the turn around, I realized I was still feeling pretty good, so I decided to try and pick up the pace. I slowed down again significantly on those two steep uphills at the beginning. I still stopped at every water station, trying to make up for the fluid I did not take enough of on the bike. At one aid station, I grabbed a gel. I ripped it open with my teeth and squirted it in my mouth. Eeeegads, it was HOT! Not just warm, but hot! BLECH! I gulped down two lukewarm cups of water after that. I was trying to check on my splits and it was encouraging. I came close to the 10 mile mark and I realized that if I could keep this pace, I was on target for a half ironman PR. Never mind that the swim was a little short, this is turning out to be a solid race! I picked up the pace a little more, now breathing heavily where it really started to burn a little. Throughout the rest of the run, I was able to cheer on friends coming the other way...now I didn't have the breath. I tried to hold the pace for the last couple of miles, but I could feel myself now slowing. The hamstring has been acting up for the last 4-5 miles, but I'm almost finished!

Through the zoo, I know the end is near. Now I can hear the announcer and the crowd cheering. Do I have any "kick" left? No, not really, but I tried. I started the day hoping to just be able to not have to stop and walk during the run. I ended with a very respectable time and a new love for neoprene booties.

Valparaiso Triathlon Race Report

Whew! One race weekend after another! I found myself heading down to Valparaiso on Saturday morning to participate in a sprint triathlon. I've always wanted to do this race because it's so close to home, but then again, with a measley 400 yard swim, I've never pulled the trigger. This year, I did it.

I picked up PS at the designated meeting time - 5am. It was dark, rainy and stormy but the race was several hours away so I had hopes of it clearing up. Besides, I already PAID for this race. Once we were on the road, we noticed we were driving into lighter skies. Excellent, it was like we were driving our way out of the storm. But the rain was coming down hard and I got a phone call from the Saint saying, "You guys are nuts, there's no way you're going to race today." We pressed on.

Once at the race site (we arrived very early), we put on our rain coats in anticipation. By the time we walked all the way to registration, we decided it was too hot for the rain coats - besides, it wasn't raining. A stop in transition to drop off the bike, a trip back to the car where we dropped off the rain coats and got the rest of our gear, and we were headed back to transition. Now it seemed the skies were getting darker in every direction, but we proceeded to set up transition. We met up with BP, his girlfriend and KK and it started drizzling. I ran back into transition to place both pairs of shoes in plastic bags (lesson learned from the Naperville race that soggy socks are NOT fun to run in!). Now it started POURING. I grabbed a light jacket I had in my bag and cursed myself for leaving the raincoat in the car. Within minutes, we were drenched. Not many places for shelter at this small race, but we were standing under a tree to try and keep from getting even more wet. (I've always found this ridiculous...where should you NOT stand when there is a storm that includes lightening? UNDER A TREE!) The 5 of us stood there, shivering, just waiting for an announcement. Someone did get on the speaker and said, "THIS RACE WILL GO ON!" We were shocked. None of us wanted to race in this monsoon. We stood there, looking around, each trying to talk each other into packing up and going home...one of those, "If you go, I'll go" back and forth.

About 10 minutes before the race start, there was a flash of lightening. 30 minute delay. Shivering, I silently hoped the race was called off. Teeth chattering, goose bumps covering my arms and legs, I wondered when it was going to stop raining. There was no way this race was going to happen...

Next thing we hear is that the first wave needs to line up. WHAT?? You mean we're going to race? I was in shock. And then I was scared. Lots of rain means lots of wet pavement means dangerous conditions on the bike. I stared at the athletes lining up in disbelief...is this really happening? Yes, it was. A few more times our little group talked about packing up and going home. But no, I drove all the way out here to race. So let's just do it!

Once my wave was finally called into the water, it was like a relief to have warmth on my feet and hands. It only lasted instantly, but I hoped once I started moving, I'd warm up. Ready, set go and our wave was off and thrashing about. Very quickly, superstar amateur athlete Chris Wickard shot out to the front. I couldn't even get a draft, she was just too fast. I watched as the rain drops hit the water of the lake as we went along...they finally stopped about half way into the swim. I could still see Chris' light blue cap up ahead of me, but couldn't catch her in such a small distance.

As I came out to head to transition, I was disappointed that I wasn't warm. I was pretty chilly as I ran to my bike. Once there, it was a fiasco trying to get my things from out of all the plastic bags! My fingers were waterlogged and pruny and pretty much refused to work for me. I put my sunglasses on but wondered if this was going to work...once they get so much water on them, you really can't see! The pavement out of T1 was very slippery and I almost fell 3 times as I headed to the bike course. I hopped on and promised myself to be safe.

Safe meant excruciatingly slow turns. In fact, I felt like I was practically stopping as I took each corner! However, it was better than the alternative, so I just hammered on all the straightaways. It wasn't raining any more, but there was some standing water on some of the roads and every now and then, a blast of wind would come and blow all the water from the leaves down on me. BRRRR! The wind was feisty and it tossed the disc wheel around a bit (I had forgotten my other rear wheel, so it was the disc or nothing!)

Once safely into T2, again fussing around with another plastic bag that contained my running shoes. Now I can't decide to take my sunglasses with or not. I picked them up, put them down, picked them up and put them down again. Then I had to move them just in case the guy next to me came in and might run them over, breaking them. WHAT AM I DOING, I'VE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE! I grabbed my hat and number and headed out. It was a bit confusing in transition and I ran into 2 guys going the wrong way (everyone was to go counter clockwise in transition to make it equal distance for all participants). It was interesting to say the least.

I started out feeling OK, but it was now getting sunny and humid. I was glad I left the sunglasses anyway because I had changed the lenses to clear, so they wouldn't have helped with the sun, anyway! Just about to the half mile mark, I could see the bikers coming in on their second to last turn of the race. Just as I looked over, a girl who was turning too fast skidded, flew off the bike and the sound of metal scraping the pavement gave me chills. Spectators all turned to look, but I didn't want to see it! I hoped she was OK.

Mile 1 and it felt like an eternity. I felt like I was slowing, but at mile 2, I see that I got just a little faster (that is, if the course was marked correctly). There were some little hills that got my heart rate up and right around mile 2 was when the hamstring started talking to me. Oh come on, I'm almost done here, though! I tried to keep the pace and as I neared the finish, I saw PS and heard him yell, "Hurry, don't let the girl behind you get you!" So I tried to push harder...not really sure if I went any faster, but when I turned around, there was no "girl" there. Was he just toying with me??

I was able to capture first in my age group, but not by much. I was surprised that my struggling run was able to hold off the second place finisher. And to think we almost turned around and did not race...

Lakeside Triathlon Race Report

I can't believe I haven't had time to write up a race report on this!! I have been doing so busy and doing lots of great things, but I can't skip a race report! The race was a week ago, so the details are now fuzzy memories, so I'll just give a quick recap.

First off, I almost cancelled out of the race. I had a little scare with my beloved labrador retriever and he trumps a race any day. A quick visit to the vet in the morning assured me he wasn't in pain and that he was going to be OK. I was a bachelorette over the weekend, so I needed to bring my little angel to the race (it's like bringing a small child...OK, almost)!

Mapquest never fails me and got me to packet pick-up with plenty of time to spare. While wandering the "festival", I ran into BC, his better half and some friends of his. I was quite distracted, I was so focused on tending to my baby. They told me I missed the trailer where packet pick up was set up, so I said goodbye and headed back. I got my things and headed to the hotel. I got a little lost getting to the hotel and just decided to get a sandwich and call it a night. I didn't want to leave the dog alone for long if I didn't have to.

I think there were drug deals being done at my hotel. Throughout the night, doors were slammed, lots of voices in the halls and just a general stench in the hallways when I walked through them. (what do you expect from a place that accepts dogs?) I slept horribly, but was happy that the dog seemed to be doing OK.

I picked up Neumann at her hotel and we headed to transition before sunrise. It was quite warm and humid already and I ditched my jacket quickly. I really enjoy smaller races because they're low key and I don't feel the pressure like I do at the high-profile races. It was exciting because this was Neumann's longest triathlon to date! We were in the same wave, so we were able to rack our bikes together. Do some socializing, take the bikes for a small test ride, play around with transition set up, meet up with BC for a quick run warm up and before you know it, the race was about to start!

Just before my wave started, three young girls jumped in front of me. Great, I thought, I'll get a really nice draft! These girls looked like they were in high school (I found out later they were). Off we go and these girls hammer it out. I found a sweet pocket and just coasted, smiling to myself because I wasn't working at all at this point. I was a little cramped, but I wasn't getting hit and we seemed to be moving. About 400 yards into it, these girls slowed dramatically. Now I was in trouble. I couldn't get around them! There were women to my left and right and straight across the front. Oh come ON, where is a gap when you need one??? It seemed like minutes, but there finally became a small space and I brushed right past two of the girls. I could see other caps with my color in front of me, but they were too far for me to try and catch them for a draft. So I settled into a rhythym and made for a good, easy-paced swim.

T1 seemed so slow. I felt disoriented and scolded myself for not practicing transitions more. I was the first one off my rack though, so I had lots of space to do my thing. On the bike, I felt good. I was breathing a little heavy initially, but got it under control in the first few miles. The same woman that flew by me on the bike last year did so again this year...but much earlier! I picked up my effort and kept her in sight. She is definitely a masher...I don't think she ever takes the bike out of the big chain ring! Whatever she does, she's very effective! One of the greatest things about this race is that they have PLENTY of volunteers and IL State Police covering the course! The way back felt easier and my legs felt good. As we neared transition, it's back through the hilly section of the course and my legs started to feel heavy. I could now see the runners and the leaders of the race!

Into T2 I had a hard time spotting my rack (scolded myself again for not checking that thoroughly!). I felt my transition was quick, but the clock told otherwise. I headed out on the run that was .5 miles longer than I expected! There were a couple of opportunities to see your competition on the out and backs. Jen Harrison yelled to me on her way back in...took me a few seconds to understand what was going on. I didn't even see her before the race! She was hauling on that run! I don't expect any less. The hills on the run killed my hamstrings and I felt myself slow and take shorter steps to compensate. It's just something I have to figure out how to deal with! I'm still having fun!

Down the finish chute, the crowd was bigger than last year. The band was on stage to the right and there were bleachers on the left. I didn't feel like I left it all out there, but I put in a solid effort. I was able to watch Neumann finish with a look of determination on her face! She waved her arms at the finish that made me know she was in a good place!

Naperville Women's Triathlon

Never before had I been so unprepared for a race. I was so exhausted from the time trial, I just fell asleep...only to wake up around 3:30am to quietly prepare for the Naperville Women's Triathlon. I didn't know what to expect, I pulled out my triathlon checklist and hoped I didn't forget anything as I hurriedly collected all my things and threw them into my ratty triathlon bag.

The morning seemed calm and I met Liz just as I found a spot on my transition rack. She was smiling, but seemed quite nervous as this was her first triathlon. I knew she'd do fine and I tried to reassure her of that. She chatted on about her morning, her preparation for the race, and on and on and I knew she was just talking to keep her mind from thinking about the day ahead.

On the one hand, I love the fact that I know so many people who are racing this day. On the flip side, it's a huge detriment because I can never get focused without someone coming up to say hi. I lose my concentration and catch up with whoever it is that I'm able to spend some time with this morning. I keep forgetting what I'm supposed to do.

The highlight of today is being a part of the Luna Chix. Several of us are out there today, ready to race, ready to cheer on our fellow racers, and all of us are out there to have fun. The more time I get to spend with this awesome group of women, the more I love them. They are just great people that have such passion and zest for life...and they truly represent what the Luna Chix are all about.

After about an hour rain delay, the race was started. I was chilled and shuddered to think how all my stuff in transition was now soaked. Who wants to run in soaking wet running shoes? UGH. I got up to the start in time to wish MC good luck...her first race in a very long time. She was relaxed and happy with a huge smile plastered on her face. I couldn't help but smile myself just watching her.

Soon it was my turn and I gave the Saint my shoes and jacket and headed to the beach. There was some nervous chatter, but in previous years, many of these women have really beat me up at the beginning of this swim. This year, the swim was structured a little differently, giving us a wider area to start. I heard someone yell for me and I looked over to see Liz waving. It is so great to have teammate support! The guy in front of us gives us a countdown and the picture to the left is the start. I had a great start and it really helped as I did not get too bumped around at the beginning. I did get hit several times by the woman on my right, but after about 100 yards, she dropped off.

I had a little "assistance" from the swim angels again this year. Fortunately, I took in a little less water from their "help." I hate the turns in this swim, but I tried to keep a nice, strong pace throughout the swim. Not a stellar time, but not horrible either.

It's a long run to the transition area in this race. I passed several women on the way to transition, but was also caught in a bottle neck for a few seconds where it's too narrow to pass anyone. I easily found my bike and saw only one other woman at my rack. Swim was good, then! I struggled to get my socks on because they were wet and kept bunching up. I gotta learn to do this with no socks! I put my bike shoes on and had to run ever so slowly to the bike out. The asphalt here is always very slick. Add the rain and it was super slippery! I got on my bike and immediately became chilled. I hoped the sun would get strong in a hurry to warm things up. It felt like a slow start out of the downtown area. Lots of turns, lots of newbies not quite sure where they should be on the course. I would politely say "on your left" and most would move over, but some got a little nervous and weren't sure what to do. Corners were tricky. I couldn't trust that anyone would hold their line, so I braked a lot into the turns simply for safety. Plus, I don't really trust myself on the wet pavement. Best to keep the rubber on the road! I didn't notice how long it was taking me, but the ride seemed to go fast. When I got off my bike, I realized it was the slowest bike I've ever had on that course! YIKES!

I got back to transition - first bike back in on the rack...woo hoo! A very quick transition and I was running, but the legs felt heavy. I was passed by someone in my wave within the very first mile. Such a difference from last year. I noticed my first mile split and couldn't believe how slow I was running. I tried not to be so hard on myself...I did just get back to running last month! It still didn't feel very good. I tried to encourage the other athletes on as I passed. I'd get some words back from some, others probably just too winded to reply. This event is just one of those "feel good" races for most of the participants. Luckily, I was able to pick up my pace for the last couple miles. I don't think I gave it my all, but I was still disappointed with my time.

It was still a great day and the race is just fun to do because it's so close to home and such a short distance. It's great to see so many first timers and the friends and family that come out to support them. The Luna Chix all hung around to watch AS collect her FIRST PLACE in AG award. I couldn't be more proud to be a part of this team.

Terre Haute Triathlon Race Report

It was a last minute decision to participate in this year's Terre Haute triathlon. I think it was because I'm so used to having an early start to the season (last few years, my first race was in April or first weekend in May!). It was difficult to listen to everyone give race reports about Galena and Memphis. I was originally scheduled to participate in the Triple T last weekend, but I knew there was no way I'd be ready to run that many miles. I made the right decision on that one.

So, I'll give just a quick recap on the race.

It was surprisingly warm when I went out to the car in the morning. There were some tornado watches and warnings going on the night before and the streets were still wet. It was pretty sticky and muggy and I took my sweatshirt off while I set up transition.

Setting up in transition at Terre Haute is always interesting. Terre Haute is a smaller race so the transition racks are sort of a free for all. There was a guy that tried to weasel in at the last minute, but I was able to show him why it wouldn't be cool of him to just jump in on a rack already set up and start moving other athlete's things. He was cool about it (thankfully!).

I'd heard people say that there were a lot of weeds in the water. That was evidenced as I saw PT's BFF Lauren Jensen come back from a warm up swim with a big bunch of weeds strewn across her left arm. They didn't look too slimy, so I didn't even think about it. As the all-female wave waited for the start, I heard a woman in front of me say how fast she was going to catch the wave that went in front of us. I looked around and saw some very confident-looking women around me. Then I immediately became intimidated and lined up in the 2nd row of women. I don't know why I let the comment or looks of those women intimidate me because within 50 yards, I was looking for a way to get around these women. I hit the woman's feet in front of me too many times, but I had no way to get around...I was squeezed in from both sides. In about 150 yards, I was able to swim past the 2 women trapping me on my left. Then it was pretty smooth sailing. The water was calm and comfortable. I just found a nice rhythym and wished the swim was longer.

I got out, looked at my watch and had a really good, strong swim. Running to the transition, my feet hurt from the rough surface. It's a pretty long run and...shoot, we entered the transition area from the opposite side I thought, so now I had to think about which aisle to run down. I need to pay more attention to where I'm set up! I found my stuff and was a little shaky. A woman flew in next to me and was in and out before I could even get one shoe on...good thing the Luna Chix are doing a transition clinic later this afternoon! I took a deep breath and steadied myself, trying to bring down the heart rate. I quickly ran out of transition and hopped on the bike.

It was warmer than I thought, but since it was so humid, I wasn't drying up at all. The bike course is an out and back with some rolling hills, nothing too difficult. On the way out, I felt great, strong, like I was just flying along. I was caught a little behind the USAT motorcycle at the turn around, but I don't think I lost much time. I couldn't practice the turn I just learned at the cycling clinic because they had a truck parked across the road (probably blocking traffic from the other direction) and the truck was too close for me to put into play what I had learned. Bummer.

And there it was...a huge, relentless headwind! UGH! No wonder I felt like I was cruising on the way out...we had a strong tailwind. But now I was pushing really hard and the bike seemed like it was barely moving. It's in those times I must look down to make sure I don't have a flat because it just feels like I'm crawling. I'm passed by many guys, passing a few. Definitely some newbies out there who are a little all over the road and make it dicey to pass at some points.

I get off the bike and wonder what this run is going to feel like. I haven't run this far since November...in my Ironman. I didn't give it my all on the bike in order to make sure the run wasn't going to hurt. I make a very fast transition and am out running and the temperature seems fine to me...except that I can't get try. My uniform is just as wet as it was the second I came out of the water. My fingers were pruny. I plod along, ticking off the miles. The hamstring bothers me at points, particularly when going uphill or trying to pick up the pace. Now the women are passing me and I try to remind myself not to chase....just get through the run at your own pace! I can't expect much, I haven't been running!

The last mile of the race is by far the hilliest part of the run and it definitely hurt the most. But it's on a trail through the forest and I just love running through that type of environment. I can now hear the announcer at the finish line and I just try to keep the pace. Almost there! Now I can see spectators and the finish line is down the hill! I was happy to finish with just a moderate amount of pain. My time was slower than the last time I did this race, but I expected that. It was a blast. And my triathlon season has officially been kicked off!

Ironman Florida Race Report

I could go in to all the details and events leading up to the race, but I'm quite sure that would make this post entirely too long. Suffice it to say that everything leading up to the race went well. The training sessions went smoothly, registration was easy, I ate, drank and slept well, and I was relatively calm leading up to the big day.


I set the alarm for 4am, though I was up before then. I got out of bed and quietly went to the kitchen in the condo to start eating. As usual, I'm never hungry when I immediately wake up, so forcing down the necessary calories wasn't easy. Ironman NA is different from most races in that you MUST check in your bike, T1 and T2 things the day before. It does make it easier to pack up on race morning because most of your stuff is already where it needs to be. All I had to bring was my 2 Special Needs bags (these are bags that you can put whatever you want or think you might need half way through the bike and run sections of the course). I put some things in each, not really expecting to use anything except the long-sleeved shirt for the run. Once the sun goes down, it can get pretty chilly.


The walk down to the transition area was quick. We were able to drop off the Special Needs bags on the way down to transition. Then it was just a matter of putting all our nutrition on the bikes, adding last-minute items to the transition bags, pumping up the tires on the bikes, get body marked, then we were off to the beach! Even though we left the condo around 5:10am, time passed very quickly and before I knew it, we would be starting in just 15 minutes.


I stood with BC while we listened to the National Anthem and we moved closer to the water. I thanked him for his support, wished him good luck and I had to walk away. I'm not sure why, but my eyes welled up with tears then and I wondered why I was about to do this again. My plan was to start very, very wide. I just did not want to be in the mix of the washing machine of arms, elbows, legs and bodies of all those other swimmers. I walked down the beach, away from the buoys and the groups of swimmers seemed endless. But I had been thinking about this plan ever since I did my last Ironman swim 16 months ago, I would not put myself in the center of this mess. I got to a place where there were about 8-10 swimmers on my right. We needed to swim out (and considerably left) to get to the buoys. I didn't care that I would be swimming a bit longer, the energy and frustration I save would be well worth it in my eyes. I also decided the people I lined up with were much less aggressive and serious about this race. We were cracking jokes up until 30 seconds before the start.


The cannon went off and I did a couple of dolphin dives to get started. Those are so exhausting! I swam about 100 yards and started smiling. I was not hit at all. I made the right decision. This was awesome! I started veering left to try and catch a little draft. But I didn't want to get too close in there. I found what I thought to be a woman who was about my speed. I backed off and swam a little bit out, toward the right, to get on her feet. Aaaaahhhhh. Nice. She swam crooked every now and then, but when I tried to break away from her, I noticed I wasn't gaining ground. She sighted enough that she never went off course very far. We only had 2 turns before we had to get out to start the second loop, and I followed her through both turns very easily. It was a bit strange....I know I'm toward the front of the pack, but where IS everyone?? Oh well, who cares, I'm swimming effortlessly and breathing as normal as I would just sitting in front of the television.


I got out of the water and looked at the clock...then realized I needed to take off 10 minutes (because the clock showed the professionals' time and they started 10 minutes before us). I was happy to see 29 minutes and some change. This was great! (In the pic above, I'm the one running past the lady with the blonde hair holding a cup of water). I hopped back in, but unfortunately lost the woman I was drafting off of. I saw tons of people swimming INSIDE the buoys and wondered what they were doing. If you swim a course counter clockwise, the buoys should be on your left side. I kept on my way and found another set of feet to draft off of. I was bummed when I thought about the fact that the swim was nearing the end...I was having fun! We made the first of the 2 turns on the second loop and there was only one other swimmer actually going around the right side of the furthest buoy. Unbelievable. I think a few fast swimmers cut the course and majority of the pack followed suit. It made my swim really easy, I felt like there were only about 6 of us out there.


I got out of the water and saw 1:00 on the clock. Sweet...right as expected..maybe even a couple minutes faster! The wetsuit strippers I went to struggled a bit to get my wetsuit off. I grabbed the wetsuit and started running toward the showers they had set up for us to rinse the salt water off a little. To my surprise, I ran into BC headed toward the showers!! It was a nice surprise and I was glad to see he had a very strong swim also. Unfortunately, no one was there to hand me my transition bag, so I went to get it myself. Once inside the transition tent, I was a little out of breath, but calm as I quickly changed into biking clothes. I felt quick as I ran out of the tent only to find that no one was there to hand me my bike. I ran over to my rack to get my own bike and headed out toward the bike course. One of the greatest things about being a strong female swimmer is that I was in the transition tent with just a couple of women and there weren't even many men heading out on the course yet. I got to the Mount Line, got on the bike and pedaled away.


Immediately, I thought something wasn't right. My back wheel, with the disc, didn't sound right. It didn't feel right. Is this all in my head? At that moment, I was riding over some brick paver, so I figured it would sound normal as soon as I got on some smooth pavement. Unfortunately, no...I got on the blacktop and something still wasn't right. I looked down at my back tire and it was flat. NO!!!!! I pulled over and stopped my watch. I didn't want to know how much time this was going to cost me because I knew it would make me push harder to make up the time...NOT a smart thing to do. I ran back a few steps, pulling the bike, to lean it up against a trailer that was lined up on the side of the road. There was a nice older woman there who said, "I know I'm not supposed to help you, but is there anything I can do?" Oddly enough, I smiled and said, if you could just hold my bike for a second, that would be great! I think she was excited about getting the chance to help an athlete in distress. I asked some young boy to go to transition and ask them to send support. For a brief moment, I considered calling it a day. This is not supposed to happen!


I took some deep breaths and tried to calm down. I moved the chain to the smallest gears and took the wheel off. I then took the spare off the back of my seat where it was taped on. I unwrapped the razor blade BC had luckily given to me just yesterday. I then cringed as I sliced the tire off the wheel. This was a tire that only had a couple hundred miles on it at most, but I couldn't risk taking the time to pump it up only to realize that there was a hole in it. I ripped the tire off, unwrapped the spare and I think I surprised myself when I was able to get the tire on pretty quickly. One of the spectators asked, "Have you done this before?" I said, "Ironman, yes...change a tubular flat...no!" I tried using my CO2, but for some reason, I couldn't get it to engage. The bikers were flying by me out of transition and it was stressful. I yanked off the hand pump I always keep on the bike and tried pumping it up that way. It was taking air, but I knew I couldn't get enough pressure in there with this little pump. I kept looking for the support crew, but no one was coming. Just then, the boy I sent to get help came back to me and said if I wanted help, I had to go back to transition. WHAT??!?!? Crap. Well, I thought...I could just ride on, tire not completely full, or I could take the extra couple of minutes to go back into transition to make sure the tire was on right and get the right amount of air in it. Had this been a shorter race, I might've made a different decision, but I chose to run back into transition.


It was a nightmare. All these bikers were coming out and I was running all the way back in. I was almost run over several times by people who mounted their bikes and were still looking down at their feet as they rode off...they wouldn't even look up until I yelled to them. It was not only embarrassing, it was frustrating. Any lead I had built up on that fabulous swim was now gone....and then some. As I was about to run back into transition I was stopped by a volunteer. She told me I couldn't go back in. I told her I needed a pump and I was directed to come back into transition! COME ON, WOMAN, I'M TRYING TO RACE HERE!!! She asked if I had a timing chip on. Of course!!!! Then she said, well, then you can't go back over the timing mat. Are you kidding me? She then became distracted, so I headed into transition and tried to cross over a part past where the mat had ended. At this point, I don't care if my transition time is all messed up, the extra time is either going to be tacked on to my transition or my bike split. I dodged tons of athletes all in a hurry to get out on the bike course. I saw some men standing under a tent and I asked them for a pump. They pointed across one of the aisles and I saw about 6 bike technicians standing there with a bunch of pumps. I called to them, but then one of the men I was standing by chastized me and said I need to go over there if I want to use a pump. I was like, "Dude, it's much easier to carry a pump across the aisle with all these athletes going by than it is for me to wheel my bike across the aisle!" He was pretty mean about it and told me I needed to wait for it to be clear. Uh huh, I'd be standing there for another hour if I waited for that! And just like Frogger, I maneuvered my way across the streaming flow of athletes and shoved my back wheel towards the technicians. The technicians were awesome. One tried to calm me down while the other immediately pumped my tire. I asked if it would hold, due to the fact the glue on the spare was kinda old. One guy says to me, "Sure, just don't go fast." HUH??? Another one tells me to take it easy on the turns, but it should hold no problem.


I struggle to turn the bike around in the small space and try not to block other athletes. I now run out with this huge crowd of bikers. It was a zoo. I would later find out that no less than 700 athletes passed me during the time it took me to take care of this flat. Depressing. I got back to the Mount Line, got on the bike and started riding. NOW it feels right! Whew! I took more deep breaths and congratulated myself for not freaking out. Alright, now focus. Just stick to the plan and try to forget about how much time you just lost.


I settled in to my rhythym and tried to enjoy the ride. It was not a hard pace, in fact, many times, I purposely made myself ride slower. This would be a long day. Even with all the lost time with the flat, bikers whizzed by me. I tried not to think about it, just trying to ride my own ride. But it's hard. Especially when you're not working so hard and you know you can keep up with/go faster than whoever is passing you at the moment. STICK TO THE PLAN! I drank regularly and my nutrition was spot on. I took water at all but one aid station and grabbed a couple of bananas when I could. I passed by the special needs bags and decided I didn't need anything. There was no one there to hand me my bag anyway. The miles went by - 60, 70, 80...and I waited for that, "OMIGOD, is it over yet?" feeling. More miles 90, 100...hey, I still feel pretty good! Packs of bikers would go by, drafting. I did see some penalties given. I thought about drafting because it seemed like so many people were doing it, but that would make me ride the pace of the group, not my own pace. And I was really excited to see what I could do on my own. No matter how fast my bike split is, I could never place in a race like this, so I just wanted to stick to my plan and see how I could do. I was quite confident it would be better than last time!!


The wind had picked up in the later miles of the race. As people continued to pass me, I couldn't help but think that this wouldn't be happening had I not had that stupid flat!! ENOUGH! I had to stop thinking negatively about it. I was, though, still pretty cautious around the turns. I kept thinking my poorly glued spare was going to roll right off the rim. Fortunately, there weren't a whole lot of turns on this course and no real downhill to worry about! I got off the bike feeling very good, and the spare held up the entire ride!


I was lucky to have someone take my bike when I rode in, but once again, had to find my own transition bag. I ran over to the tent, slowly, as I fumbled with my Garmin to change it to run mode. I got into the transition tent and did a full wardrobe change. The volunteer helping me was kinda rude, barking at me and I wished she would go away. Just stop moving my stuff, I can do it! But she's only trying to help, so I just dealt with it. I was bummed there was no water in the tent, but I expected there would be some right outside the tent before we got on the run course. I was yelled at to turn my number to the front as I left transition, and I carried my visor as I started running.


Right out of the transition, there was the Saint, yelling to me, said he saw the flat, but that I still managed to put up a pretty good bike split. The way I calculated it, I lost about 15-20 minutes on that fiasco, but I couldn't be sure. Again, I tried not to think about it...can't change it now, anyway. What's done is done. I was running at a pretty good pace and felt great. A deer darted across the course while I was in Andrews Park. Little guy looked all confused with all these runners crowding his territory! I tried to remember to focus on nutrition and to take regular walk breaks. I got through the first 10 miles pretty easily, but then I started to slow down. A woman on the side of the road called out..."MJ...Is that MJ?? HEY - it's Jen Harrison!" And I smiled and said hi back. It was really cool that she was out there cheering people on and even cooler that she recognized me! It gave me a quick boost and I tried to keep on running. By the time I got to the half way point, the Saint was there again, standing outside our condo with the spouses of KK, JQ and sometimes BC.

He said I looked good, but I wasn't feeling good. My quads were starting to ache, no doubt due to the lack of running. Interestingly enough, I didn't feel any shin pain whatsoever.


I continued on my run/walk plan, chose to pass by the special needs bag and hoped I wouldn't freeze on the second loop of the run. I was in a good place mentally, I just hoped my quads wouldn't get worse. Not sure who did it, but someone typed in a message at the motivation checkpoint...THANK YOU to whoever put that message in there. It lifted my spirits as the sun set and I was handed a glow necklace. And though I felt like I was slowing, my pace stayed amazingly consistent until about mile 22. My legs felt heavy and the sound of my feet shuffling on the pavement irritated me. I just didn't have the strength to pick them up high enough to not make that noise any more. I counted down the miles and kept thinking what 4 miles left of Waterfall Glen feels like...then 3 miles, then 2 miles. With 1 mile left to go, I vowed to run the whole mile in. The pain in my legs was worse than any pain I've had before, but not injury pain. This is what you get when you only train up to 12 miles, then attempt to go out and run 26. I can do it...just 1 mile.


I could hear the announcer calling finisher names and saying, "YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!" I didn't hear them announce my name at either of my other 2 Ironman races, so I hoped I'd be able to hear it today. Down the finishing chute, the specators are lined up on both sides, cheering athletes in. As sore and tired as I was, that rush of coming in...finishing an Ironman race...feels great! There were a couple of guys close in front of me and I thought about slowing a little so I could have a good finish photo, but then I decided I just wanted it to be over. I'm not slowing down for a picture that I'm probably not going to purchase anyway. And the volunteers at the finish could barely get the finishing ribbon back across the finish fast enough as I ran in right behind another guy. I lifted my arms and tried to smile. As I crossed, I finally heard, "MJ, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!"

Taper Time

Two of my favorite words "taper time." It just feels like it has been a very long, trying season for me. From a marathon in Dec 2006 to a marathon in April 2007 followed by a half ironman less than a week later, there really was no down time between the 2006 and 2007 season. And now I'm paying for it.

Up until the end of July, my season was spectacular and I realize that. However, the shin injury set me back...way back. It's one of the most frustrating thing an athlete can go through. I've done anything and everything to try and remedy the situation, but it doesn't seem to be working. On top of that, I've put in hours upon hours of time on the bike. More time than I have in any year past. And just 8 days ago, I was feeling great! Well, the shin is still an issue, which I'm dealing with, but everything else felt awesome and ready to go.

But something happened in the last week that doesn't feel so good. It's called burn out. Or exhaustion. I don't care what the hell you call it, it sucks! I just want this damn race over with now. I am tired of training and not making any gains. I'm tired of trying to baby the shin just to have it hurt the instant I step out for a run. I'm tired of 2 workouts a day and neither of them feeling particularly good. Let's just face it, I'm tired.

At this point in the game, that's OK. I'm supposed to be tired. I've racked up tons of hours on the bike and in the pool and now it's time for all that training volume to be lowered...slowly and systematically. Boy, do I need it. I just about had a break down on the bike over the weekend. The wind was not my friend and it simply beat the energy out of me.

So with just under 2 weeks to go, I'm not feeling so great. I'm doubting everything I have and haven't done in preparation for this race. I don't want to be outside anymore, it's too cold. It's too early to try and predict weather conditions for the race, yet I find myself on weather.com every day trying to scope out the extended forecast. I wonder if my shin is going to hold up for 26 miles or if I'm going to end up being forced to quit at some point during the run. And I wonder why on earth I signed up for another Ironman (it's BC's fault).

I welcome the taper. I know I'll have pent up energy and I want that feeling. Sure, I'll be driving everyone else crazy with my inability to sit still, but at least I'll HAVE some energy. In a few days, I will start packing for the trip. It's starting to sink in. We're in the home stretch of the preparation for Ironman Florida 2007!

One More Month

Just one month from today will be Ironman Florida. Nervousness has not set in, though I know it will. The thing about Ironman is that it is an event that you typically sign up for a year in advance. In fact, the last several IM North America races (North America is like the "big daddy" of Ironman races) have filled up within just hours. That's right, hours. And then the event just looms in front of you for the next 364 days. Oh sure, you go on about your normal daily business, but always somewhere in the back of your mind you think, "I'm doing an Ironman." The thoughts of the Ironman get more and more frequent as the days slip by.

It wasn't that long ago when I thought, "Gee, I might want to actually start training for the Ironman." Don't laugh, it's true. Yes, sure, I've been working out year 'round. My first half ironman this season was in April. And I've continued to race regularly throughout the season (or at least until the shin splint injury struck).

But make no mistake, just swimming, biking and running isn't technically "training" for the Ironman. There's a big difference between working out and actually training for the race. It's sorta like saying that if you just go out and run every day, you're ready for a marathon. The truth is, you're not. And though the training plan doesn't need to be a big, long, meticulous plan, there does need to be a plan.

The swim - well, as confident of a swimmer that I am, I actually dread the ironman swim. Oh no, it's not the length. 2.4 miles? Heck, make it 5 miles, I don't care. No, see the big fear I have (from past experience) is getting knocked around so much so that it feels like you are drowning.

Within minutes of my start at Ironman Coeur d'Alene, I was panicking, out of breath and the adrenaline was shooting throughout my body. I wanted to cry. This is so not how I wanted my day to start. Sometimes I wonder if it's because I try to situate myself toward the front of the pack, with the more aggressive swimmers. But as I talk to anyone who has done an Ironman, it seems this feeling happens to just about everyone (well, maybe not the pros). The sad part about this is that the swim should be the "warm up" to what is supposed to be a great day. The swim is my strength and I really want to enjoy this part of the race. Unfortunately, I don't. If I'm really lucky, by about half way through the swim, the field opens up or I swing wide to get away from all the bodies kicking and flailing their arms (well, that's what it feels like their doing!). I wonder why the hell the guy next to me won't move over and I have to remind myself he's probably boxed in just like I am. I try very hard not to waste energy on getting angry and frustrated. See this, I'm already thinking about how dreadful the swim will be and I still have 30 days left to go through this wonderful experience!

Bike - I don't care who you are, 112 miles on a bike isn't fun. Oh yeah, it's great in the beginning...and if you're lucky, the middle is pretty good, too. But then, just like the "wall" in the marathon, I guess we have a "mountain" on the bike. It typically comes around mile 80 or 90 when nothing feels good and you just want to be off the bike. If you're reading this thinking, "well, at that point, you don't have much more to go," just stop yourself. 20 or 30 miles is a very LONG way to go when you're feeling spent and you're sore from being in the aero position not to mention your crotch (yes, I said it). It takes a very strong mental attitude to push through this time and at Couer d'Alene, I almost didn't make it. My mental will was weak. Thankfully, there was no aid station at my low point, or I would've pulled over and called it a day. I couldn't just stop in the middle of nowhere. By the time I got to the next aid station, I was feeling a little better. But it was pure happiness when I pulled into T2 and was able to get off that bike!!

The run - ah, the run. Er, um, run/walk. Or, uh, just walk. Also known as "the death march." If you're lucky, you can start off running. I think many people need to start off walking just to get their legs used to being off the bike. And if you're even luckier, you can continue to run. When I set out to do this upcoming Ironman, my goal was not to walk during the marathon portion. After the injury in July, I considered pulling out of this race. Once I decided, just a few weeks ago, that I could still do this race, my goal then changed to just being able to finish. And that's so not me. But with the lack of run training, I have no idea how this will go. It's too late to turn back now. I'm doin' this.

Countdown to the Marathon

It was weeks ago when I sadly realized I should not do this year's marathon. Although I could probably finish, due to my injury, I wouldn't have a good time and could risk doing further and possible permanent damage. Strangely enough, I'm over it and thank all of you that have been asking about my injury and wishing me well. I greatly appreciate your support!

So I now am living vicariously through various friends who are embarking upon this year's Chicago Marathon. Though I know many marathon veterans running (and wish them well!), the people I'm most excited for are those running their first marathon. Each and everyone of them I've had a conversation with in the last week has been excited about the race. They are just dripping with anxiety and one of them could barely stand still as he reviewed his final long run with me. The energy is contagious and I described to him how they have the big monitors in front of the expo and they go through the marathon course in fast forward. I've seen that many times now, but it gives me goosebumps when I watch it, even when I'm not running the marathon! It's fun and interesting for me to listen to the various race strategies. Apparel, nutrition, pacing, mental attitude, all of these things have a place in the race and I think everyone had their own way of attacking this challenge.

There is a new film coming out. Click here for the preview for the Spirit of the Marathon. This was filmed in 2005 at the Chicago Marathon. And one of my friends, Leah, is one of the featured athletes! Even watching the little preview of this movie makes me a little sad that I won't be running in this year's race. But there will definitely be more marathons in my future.

I'm not going to put up any last-minute marathon taper advice for you newbies, because I'm sure you're probably sick of hearing it by now. But I will share with you a little something that was sent to me just before my first marathon.

A marathon is not a race; a 5K is a race.
A marathon is not a race; a 10K is a race.
A marathon is not a race; a race is run with your legs.
A marathon is not a race; a marathon is a measure of how you handle the doubt in your mind at mile 15.
A marathon is not a race; a marathon is a measure of how you handle the pain that takes over your body at mile 20.
A marathon is not a race; a marathon is a measure of your courage.
A marathon is not a race; a marathon is run with your heart.

Great Illini - FULL Aquabike (2.4 swim, 112 bike)

It was just 38 degrees outside at the start of the race. Once I set up transition, I went to wait in the heated car. I waited until the last minute, then I struggled to put my wetsuit on while sitting in the car. I set my feet on the cold, wet grass and worried about how cold I was going to be for this very long race. By the time I walked over to where they were giving the race talk, my feet hurt from the cold. It was announced that the start would be delayed because of the fog coming up from the lake, it would be impossible for the swimmers to see where they were going. No sooner was the talk over that I headed over to the lake to get my feet submerged. The lake temperature was supposedly 77 degrees. It felt like I had stepped into a hot tub! I wasn't the only one with that idea. Most of the ironman competitors ran over to the water and as soon as they stepped in, they would utter "Ahhhhh" and smiles would come to their faces.

Not much time passed, then it was announced that we would start in 10 minutes. WHAT?? I still can't see anything out there. We knew we were to go out 3 buoys, and we could barely see the second one. The volunteers in the boats assured the race director that we'd be able to see the third buoy once we got to the second one. The two people you see looking at the camera with our arms crossed are BC and myself. It was chilly, even with the wetsuit on and we were anxious to get moving. I wanted to stay close to him and see if I could catch a good draft! It was then announced that we were waiting another 10 minutes or so. I guess that was good, for visibility purposes, but none of the athletes were too happy that we'd already gotten in the water and now had to wait for an indefinite amount of time. The water was about 77, so it wasn't so bad. We were able to spot Aaron and Eileen, two other Salt Creek Tri Club members, both making their first Ironman appearance.

Then the announcement was made that we'd be starting in 6 minutes. Huh? I still can't see anything. The volunteers in a nearby boat said they have boats all around the course and they'd help direct us.

We were off, heading toward the next buoy. I was immediately drafting off someone and hoped they could see where they were going because the sun was blinding and the fog that was hovering over the top of the water was so thick, I couldn't see much in front of me...including the person I was drafting off of! We passed the second buoy and I just kept following the person in front of me. I noticed there were about 4-5 of us sticking close together. All of a sudden, we stopped. The volunteers in the boats were yelling at us that we were way off course and were pointing in the direction we needed to go. We turned, tried to sight a buoy, but still, I couldn't see more than a few feet in front of me. Somehow, we got to that buoy and turned. We were swimming once again in this small, tight little pack and we managed to get to the next buoy. Then the person to my left stopped, so I stopped. She asked me "Which way?" I didn't know. Then I saw Aaron's face pop out of the water. Then I heard a familiar voice..."Bernie?" "MJ?" It was like the movie theater scene from Seinfeld where Jerry, George, Elaine and Kramer all start calling out to one another when they realized they were all at the same show. It was frustrating, but I think that was my favorite moment of the race.

We were yelling to the boats now, "WHICH WAY?" They'd point and we'd just head off in that general direction. Once we'd get to the next buoy, the process started all over, we all stopped, looked around and yelled to the boats for direction. I tried not to lead at this point because it seemed like we were going way off course and the first person who could realize the right direction was the one not putting in all the extra distance!

Once we finished the first loop of the course, visibility improved tremendously. I think in this picture, I'm drafting off BC. Once I was able to see the buoys for myself, I just swam alone, headed straight for the buoy. I felt relaxed and the lake was smooth as glass. I thought about how cold I was going to be when I got out of this water, so I tried to enjoy it. I then started passing some of the half ironman swimmers. Their yellow caps made sighting pretty easy. I wasn't working too hard, but I wasn't exactly slacking out there, either. Once I could see the beach area, I tried to swim just a little faster.

I got out of the water and ran to my bike. Unfortunately, this race didn't have wetsuit strippers. I ripped off the wetsuit, grabbed my bag of bike clothes and ran into the women's changing tent. BC was at the rack right next to me, making fun of me that I was actually going to change. I got into the tent and was happy to see Sally in there laughing and smiling about how crazy it was that we were racing in such cold weather. She was in no hurry since she was going to get some pictures of Eileen. There were no chairs in the changing tent, nor was there anyone in there to help. I was thankful Sally was in there because I needed her help in pulling my bra on....that's quite a challenging feat when you're soaking wet! She graciously helped me out and I got my jersey on quickly and ran back to my bike. BC was just about ready to leave...WHAT? He was beating me out of transition! I had to let him go. I still needed to get my shoes and socks on, arm warmers, headband and 2 pairs of gloves on before I was leaving. At the last minute, I decided I did not need a jacket. I tossed it on the ground and ran out of transition.

I clipped in pretty quickly and started off. Boy, I was cold! I looked down and the wrong display was on my computer. I must've looked down for too long because by the time I looked up, I was headed off to the side of the road in some deep, loose gravel. It was too late and my reaction to turn the bike back onto the road was too late. I fell less than a quarter mile into the bike course. I hit my elbow very hard and my head lightly tapped the pavement. I was REALLY happy I was wearing arm warmers! I quickly got up, picked up my water bottle with all my nutrition for the day in it and placed it back in the bottle holder. I then scanned the bike over to make sure nothing looked like it was rubbing on the tires, got back on and rode away. I was sort of surprised that another athlete or a volunteer didn't come over to see if I was OK. I mean, I was fine, but usually people run over and hover around when you fall. Guess it was good no one came over, it was quite embarrassing! However, I expect a phone call from the race director asking if I am OK! :)

I rode for about 10-15 minutes and was still chilly. I hadn't attempted to get into the aero bars because right where I'd put my elbow is where I fell and it hurt much too much to put down on the pad. So I tried pulling my arm in a little closer so that the place where the impact was was well off the pad. It was a tad uncomfortable, but it was either that or ride up like a sail for the entire 112 miles! There was a really rough section of road where I wondered why on earth they'd put us on that road! There was a lot of loose gravel on the sides and it all blended in with the rest of the street, so it was difficult to tell where the gravel was. I rode slowly through this section. I didn't want to fall again! The rough road wasn't too long and I went to take a drink from my aero bottle. Uh oh. Empty. Guess all my water came out when I fell. Great. Now I have to ride 14 miles without any water. At this point, I'm glad it's not too hot outside!

The course was weird...several out and backs and then do the whole thing again. This was good to be able to see BC tearing up the course, putting some serious distance between me and him, Aaron riding along up ahead, smiling and enjoying the day and I could see who was gaining on me. I briefly saw Angie looking very fast and smiling. I was also able to see Eileen a couple of times and Sally. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits and was enjoying the ride. Despite being a little cool early in the ride, I decided I was quite comfortable temperature-wise.

I got to about mile 30 when my contact popped out of my eye due to the strong wind. I pulled over to put it back in when I noticed it was ripped. DAMN! I tossed it aside and hopped back on my bike. This very same thing happened to me at IMCDA last year. And almost the same mile mark! Guess it's time for me to look into some LASIK! It bothered me for a little while, but I got used to riding with just one contact pretty quickly. It only was an issue when I felt the other contact start sliding out that I started to get a bit nervous. If I lost the second one, I'd have to quit. My vision is not good enough to be able to ride without contacts!

The turn arounds on the out and back sections were tight. They caused me to slow down, unclip and slowly move around the cones. I watched one woman in front of me fall while trying to navigate around the sharp turns. She was fine, but I had to stop to let her get out of the way to pass. I felt good passing her, she rode right by me when I was messing around with my contact and never asked if I was OK. I got to the last turnaround of the first lap and the volunteer said we were at mile 51. FIFTY-ONE? That's it? I groaned as I realized I wasn't even half way through yet. I was getting uncomfortable and knew the second half of the ride was going to be tougher.

At the beginning of the second loop, I grabbed a water bottle from one of the volunteers. It was unopened. I tossed it down and grabbed another one from a second volunteer. Still unopened. OK, someone should have explained to these volunteers that we need the bottles OPENED! So I tried opening the bottle several times with my teeth. When I realized it was too difficult, I angrily tossed the bottle to my right with such force, I almost lost control of the bike. Oops. That was stupid. I was fuming for the next few miles. That cold water would have tasted really good. And this course wasn't exactly stocked with aid stations!

Tougher it was as the wind seemed to pick up and I felt the front wheel swing a little out of my control at a few points. I almost lost it just after one of the turn arounds. It felt like someone grabbed the handlebars and yanked them over to the left. I rode on and eventually caught up to Aaron. He was still smiling and very positive. I reminded him to pace himself...he still had to run, I did not. He was being smart about the race and tried conserving a little on the second half, which I was very proud of him for. BC continued to gain ground and he was leading the race! It was really cool to see him out in front of all the other competitors. I yelled out to him as we passed each other that he was leading, but he already knew and I think it spurred him on to push even faster. Just after seeing him, another competitor heading back in yelled to me that I was the first woman. Really? Oh yeah, I was first out of the water and no women had passed me. And we were at mile 80 or so. Nice!

And there she was. She came out of nowhere and didn't say a word as she pased me. The woman with the yellow bike and purple bikini bottom flew by me and I was bummed that she was now taking the lead spot. As much as I thought about chasing her, I knew I needed to stick to my plan and it didn't include surge that would enable me to stay with her. OK, so what, so you're not first, I thought. Well, I'm not even doing the whole race, so it doesn't even matter!

I kept on going steady and as the end of the bike leg neared, I still felt very strong, yet still uncomfortable. My elbow was still throbbing, but there was nothing I could do about it, so I just tried not to think about it. I'll take care of it later. I came to that last turn around, where I was at just 51 miles the first pass through. And I felt strong, so I picked up the pace a little. Well, maybe that was just in my head, but I wanted to finish strong. I saw Sally pull ahead of me in her car, freshly showered and out there cheering me on in. It was a lift to see her. I steered on up to the dismount area where the volunteers were yelling that I was the first woman in. HUH? What happened with the purple bikini chick on the yellow bike?

I uneventfully crossed the timing mat into transition and, though I felt like I could've run, I was happy I didn't have to! My race was over. I then learned that the purple bikini on the yellow bike was actually a MAN! Hee hee!! Someone needs to let the dude know he shouldn't be wearing those bottoms, but whatever. I caught up with BC in transition and he cleaned up my road rash from my fall. I'm really happy I did this event. Excellent preparation for the upcoming Ironman!