Twin Lakes Sprint Triathlon Race Report

Get ready---this will be long for a sprint report!

First the important stuff. Pics are here.

So if you go back a few days you see that on Friday, I pretty well cooked myself (figuratively and literally) that day. I was oh so tired Friday night, but stretched pretty well, and didn't need to do too much after that--I had Infinit mixed up that was leftover from my bottle-making tragedy prior to Horribly Hilly, and so all I needed to do was load and set the coffee pot timer.

The plan for Saturday was a 1/2 hour recovery swim and 2:30 ride "at any intensity that feels right." Uh-huh. Yeah. OK. That's what the piece of paper said.

I had wanted to be swimming at 7AM, but I was a little late getting started, due to the fact that I let myself "sleep in" until 5:30 and wanted to have my breakfast somewhat digested before I started swimming (unlike on Friday).

I'd thought I'd swim easy for 1/2 hour, but as soon as I jumped in, I was like, fuck, I have a sprint race tomorrow I should do some short speedy stuff. So first I just swam 500 all out (what is "all out" for me that is), then I did 300 easy, then 4x100 hard 20"RI and 4x50 hard 10" RI, with a 100 easy cooldown. OK, FAIL on easy swim, hey but it was short, so no worries, right?

I got lucky in that the Farmer's Market was staged at the Y yesterday because of the annual summer festival in Downers Grove called Heritage Fest (I may yet walk down there today OR NOT), so I picked up some tomatoes (Florida--Illinois' fruit won't be here for a few weeks yet, but it is the best, I SWEAR), some focaccia (which substituted for the pizza I should have eaten on Thursday but didn't, and the pizza I should have eaten Friday night but didn't because I was too tired), and this olive muffaletta stuff that I absolutely adore--it's like giardinera on tasty steroids--mostly olives, some onions, some peppers.

I had wanted to leave home by 8:30 to ride, but slacked and didn't get going until almost 9:30. No worries--it wasn't as hot as Friday. I went riding in panties again, but with a tank top on so I wouldn't burn my back up. I was plenty comfortable, and while I started out sort of easy, I just sort of got a mileage number in my head (50) that I wanted to knock out. I rode east in my "hood" ride area through Westmont, Hinsdale, Western Springs into LaGrange, and then joined up with the Salt Creek bike path. It is nice and shady in there, and I was laughing while going 20MPH on it. I made a wrong turn at one point, but it was good because I still ended up with 47 miles of riding at a pretty good clip.

Oh my fucking God were my legs toasted after that. Needless to say, it was NOT a recovery ride by any stretch of the imagination, but I had things to do. I made a quick lunch, mowed the lawn and then headed to the bike shop to pick up LGL--she'd been tuned up and zebrafied:



Look at her! Is she a thing of beauty or what? While at the LBS, I started thinking I want a new tri bike, and would love the Pinarello Montello. Sadly, though, we looked up the frame sizing parameters and they don't make one small enough for me. I am going to look at Colnago next. I don't want Joe average's tri bike--but I would like something as light or lighter than LGL.

After bike shopping, I did some dishes, stretched, got Bitchie all set up to race, including cleaning off the shit left over from her tuneup and my rides on Friday and Saturday, got my race gear together, loaded the coffee pot, and tried to get to sleep early at 8:30.

No such luck. I just laid there and tossed and turned. I swear I sleep better before an Ironman than I do before a stupid sprint! I remember scrolling through all the crap that has happened to me in the past 3 years, thought about all these things I should be doing or could be doing, but then just gave over to the fact that I didn't really need a whole lot of sleep. I heard maybe one thunderclap (I guess it rained a little), finally got to sleep and was having "the dreams" of being late for a race, etc.

I woke up just before the alarm went off thinking I maybe had another hour to sleep, BUT NO! So I got up and thought, yikes my legs are fried, this is going to suck today. I had 2 cups of coffee, grabbed a can of Ultra Violence for the road, and an hour after waking was on the road. It looked to be a beautiful day--no clouds, and temperatures in the 70's for racing. My PERFECT race weather!

I got to Twin Lakes a few minutes later than planned, but was still one of the first 25 or so cars there, so I had plenty of time to set up, take a few dumps (a pre-race tradition!) and mill around and find people I know. I had several women say to me, "You look fast!" I don't know why they say that--sure Bitch looks fast, but I don't think that I look particularly fast. Anyway, my response was, "I don't know about today." And I didn't. I had reconciled myself to just going out and having fun, and I was looking forward to it.

OK, on to the actual race. For my swim wave, I started far left and then angled into everyone. I had no idea if I was doing a good pace or not, but I did seem to pass a lot of people. I guess I did my usual MOP effort there, but it was still fast for me. Like 12:30 for 700 or 750 meters, not sure what the actual distance was.

I got out of the water and had 1/2 my wetsuit off, got to my bike, lots and lots of bikes still on racks (!), got the suit off quickly and got ready to bike. I wasn't going particularly fast, but not slow either. I headed out to bike and thought, "Fuck, this is going to hurt."

Because you know why? No matter how I feel, it's a sprint, biking is my thing, and I will make myself hurt just because I feel it's my obligation. I must not have had that great of a swim, because I immediately started passing all sorts of people, in my wave, and earlier waves, lots of guys, and never found a pack to draft off of. No worries--several guys tried to suck my wheel, but I dropped most of them once we hit some wind around Harper College. I am tiny and my CdA is quite low (and I was wearing the aero helmet to boot), and so I can cut through wind pretty well for a yard gnome.

I remember after about 5 minutes into the bike I'm like FUCK THIS FUCKING, FUCKING HURTS! And yet I couldn't make myself ride easier. Why bother? It's only 14 something miles, I can handle it. The only times I slowed down a little was when I thought I needed like 3 seconds to recover or swig some Coke out of my pink pirate bottle. And I just kept cranking, and since I kept passing people (yelling at those who were in my way), I thought I must be having a decent ride.

When I got back to transition, I was methodical about taking stuff off and getting into my running shoes. This was the first time I wore my black racing flats in a race, because this is the first sprint I've had in them. They felt great! I feel like I am barely moving, but not really feeling the pain of the bike ride. Earlier in the day, I thought I'd be happy running 9mpm, and here comes Mile 1 I wonder what I'm doing? 8:38. Huh? I don't do that. Oh well, just keep the pace and don't look at the watch.

Well, I kept going, taking short walk breaks at the aid stations, and when I got near the finish line, a friend of mine, Kevin, was there to run me in. And he's yelling at me and now I am hurting like a sonofabitch, but hey I did this at Rockman, I can do it again, and then I'm across the finish line and done!

And I have no clue how many miles I'd run. I thought each mile was short because I just kept running a little faster each mile that was marked, and the website had said it might be 4.9 miles, someone else said it was 4.3, but I guess they measured it at 4.5. Whatever, I felt like I had had fun, and I even passed like 8 people on the run, so I was OK with however I'd done.

When they posted results up on this van, I walked over, and I was like WTF??? 20th overall??? And I just didn't believe it. OK, so maybe this isn't a big race, and maybe there wasn't a lot of competition, and maybe blah, blah, blah, but WHAT??? So of course, I thought maybe I should hang out and see if anyone comes ahead of me, but I doubted it because of the elapsed time since I had finished and people in later waves probably being overall slower.

But even though I checked at least 5 times, the results never changed, I was 20th overall and 1st in my AG, and this was after all the shit I had done before this in the week!

And sweetest of all, that was the fastest I have ever run 4.5 miles or whatever it was, if it was measured accurately, and I am very happy, as you can see from the last pic in the set of me in my car.

I don't really care what this means as far as IMLP or anything else. I am just taking it for what it is. I did OK today. I guess I have won my AG in all 6 races (aside from Triple T) that I have done this year, including a 1/2 IM. I'll take it.

Now I just wonder what I could do with a proper taper...

Aw....You Shouldn't Have!

Have you ever scheduled training for yourself that looked good on paper, but once you actually get it done you think maybe you shouldn't have done it? Sometimes the realization doesn't happen for days or weeks when you feel a twinge of pain where you shouldn't or are extra tired or become sick, but sometimes it's a same day thing.

I'm not sure about today's festival yet. Here's the deal: I signed up for this sprint that's on Sunday, but right now, being ready for IMLP is way more important than how I do at the sprint. Although while riding today, I was thinking that one of the unique things about hard-core triathletes is that we expect to be able to perform well no matter what. So what I was sick for 2 weeks, so what I didn't taper, I'd still expect a decent performance at a 1/2 Ironman or anything less. Isn't that funny?

Anyway, what I was supposed to do yesterday was a 2:15 run with about :40 of it at half mary pace, the rest being "steady" which is just above easy pace. But noooooo...what I actually did was decide I wanted to bang out 16+ miles all around half mary pace because, what the hell, why not? I was feeling suitably recovered from Horribly Hilly, and it wasn't oppressively hot while I was running, and well, it just happened.

Last night I was pretty hungry and pretty tired. I knew I better load up on calories for today's festival. Since I have that sprint on Sunday, I decided today I would need to take the day off from work and get some quality training in, so that Saturday could be a light day and then race on Sunday, expecting to do well.

So what I scheduled for today was a 3,000 yard swim (straight), 4:30 ride (I had written a workout for it but decided to just wing it) and :40 brick run. Now, if I had executed yesterday's run according to plan, this might not be such a problem, but even still, it's like I scheduled nearly a 1/2 Ironman for today. But with a day off from work, no problem, right?

I woke up this morning right with the alarm, because I wanted to get in the pool by 6AM. As it turns out, I missed that by about 10 minutes, but didn't stress about it, because the temperatures were supposed to drop a little from the upper 90's of the past few days.

I downed the customary Ultrafuel, which made my nose run like a faucet (I still don't have that figured out), and was in the pool swimming at 6:10. I didn't try and swim too hard, but I felt just fine other than wanting to puke a few times because of all the calories in my gut, but no way I was getting up at 4AM so I would have finished eating 2 hours before I started! I can suffer with the desire to puke while swimming, though.

I was home by 7:30 and wanted to hit the road for Fermilab to ride and run by 8:00AM. Again, I missed the mark by about :10 (see I'm running 10 minutes behind), and was OK with that until I got to my customary entrance at the East Gate which was blocked for some reason, so I had to take a little detour to get in at the West Gate off Pine Road. No worries, I got what started out to be a nice, shady place to park my car.

As I started rolling, I noticed the winds were from an odd direction. Usually we have SSW or WSW winds this time of year, but today they were from the NE. I guess that is what held the temps to the upper 80's instead of 90's today!

Anyway, I was a good girl and made sure I drank a full bottle of water each hour and was on top of my Infinit. The Ergomo appears dead on the Griffen now, so I just rode by feel and sort of by speed. I wore a sleeveless white jersey for the first 3 laps, which kept me comfortable as my back wasn't burning up--although I totally lubed up with sunscreen before I left. I switched to a tank for the last lap and I don't know if it's because it is more skimpy than the jersey or the heat picked up, but I was hotter. I think the heat did pick up significantly more by that point, so that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

I rode fairly well considering the wind, all the turns I was making, a few moments of slackitude, my legs being toasty from yesterday's run, and the heat. I covered 82 miles in 4:30, not too bad. Here are some pics after I finished riding. I definitely browned up today!

Bitchie all by her lonesome. She is looking forward to racing on Sunday!

Me and Bitchie

I decided I was pretty happy about my ride!

Next, I suited up to run. I put on running shorts, visor, shoes, and ditched the tank top as it was pretty hot. I started out and was like Oh My Fucking God I am going to die! Now I really noticed how hot it was, and I also observed that I must have rode a little hard and/or my legs weren't ready to run today. Whatever. I briefly thought about cutting the run short, but nixed that idea and just HTFU'd (you can see my black HTFU bracelet on my right wrist in all the pics--it really does help me somehow). I ran mostly in the blazing sun, and it was a pretty day, but hot, and I had all these Infinit crustaceans (the leftover electrolytes that seem to crystallize in my nose much like another substance that I wouldn't know anything about) in my nose and my skin was disgusting from all the sweat, sunscreen, salt, bugs and whatever else had blown onto me while I was riding. Such is life. I got it done, and was pretty happy with myself, as you can see below:

And after all that I'm thinking, damn I'm a fucking Crackhead not sure if I should have done that, but I did it, and I stopped at McDonald's just outside the East Gate (I was able to drive straight through the middle of Fermilab to get there) and got a couple of cheeseburgers to tide me over until I got home, and also had some of my Endurox R4.

I had the best shower ever, and I am on Beer #2, and even though I discovered some minor adjustments I need to make to Bitchie before I ride her tomorrow (yes, I schedule 2:30 of riding, but it is going to be E-A-S-Y), and I'm going to try and swim for 1/2 hour, too.

I have to be OK with sucking on Sunday now, but you never know, I might not. While I was showering today, I had a flash thought--whenever you say or think something negative about yourself, pause, and then say, "or not." Like, "Maybe I shouldn't have worked out so much today. Or NOT." Or, "I will probably suck on Sunday. Or NOT." Kind of allows you to express the negative thoughts, but at the same time question them, which I think is a fine way to proceed for now.

Sometimes I think I have everything figured out. OR NOT!

Horribly Hilly Hundreds Pics

In looking through the event photos, it's apparent there were very few women who finished the 200K ride (or who started for that matter--they indicated 18% of registrants were women, and I'm guessing most of them rode the 100K) and also that I was faster than a lot of guys. Not that I'm competitive or anything ;)

This picture is coming up to Cty J on Garfoot Road, which is part of the Ironman Wisconsin course, only we are going backwards. While on Garfoot, I saw a number of athletes obviously training for IMWI or perhaps some other IM, since it's a popular spot to ride and a tough course. This climb was not very difficult at all, as it was pretty short, and I did try and stay seated on all the climbs that day so I wouldn't burn up my legs too quickly. You can see my HTFU bracelet on my right wrist!

Here I am coming up to the park to finish. Sucks this one has PROOF on it, but oh well, you can see that at this point I am not really smiling anymore--I'm all focus, get it done and get off the bike!



I'm about to start in on my 7-hour training day, so I better get going! Enjoy your Friday!

Harden the Fuck Up Run

So I ran pretty hard yesterday, much of it in sweltering heat. I was plenty tired last night, as I did 3 workouts on the day (swim, lift, run), and just from the run I knew I needed to stretch well, and so I did. I got to sleep just after 8:30, since I had the alarm set for 4:45 because I needed to run 2:15 today.

I slept really well and deeply, but when that damn alarm went off, I thought I do not want to get up and could feel some soreness in my legs. HTFU. I turned off the snooze alarm, thinking that I'd let myself sleep a little longer (I'd wake up with the light anyway), and that I would just run on the treadmill, since it was most likely pretty hot already, and it doesn't take very long to get to the Y.

I'm laying there thinking HTFU you sorry excuse for an athlete, the clock is ticking, so I got out of bed and walked downstairs to the kitchen where I saw that it was only 5:05, so even though I felt like I had given myself a little gift of extra time, I still had plenty and could have made it to Waterfall Glen.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and grabbed a Power Bar Triple Threat (which I now only eat on mornings when I do a long run, race or big ride--on other days I have been eating a hardboiled egg on an English muffin with jam), started eating and drinking and got on the computer just to see what's going on. Of course, I had to pee like 4 times and also do that other thing a few times. One of the entertaining parts of training so much is that you are pumping a lot of calories through your body and are pretty much fired up most of the day, so you are processing at a high rate.

I think it was only 5:30 and I decided I should put the running clothes on and put my contacts in, and I immediately reached for my HTFU bracelet because I figured I'd need it today. And then I had a flash of FUCK IT and I decided I'd just run from home and get this motherfucker done.

I had poured myself a second cup of coffee, but didn't really want it, so I chugged like 1/2 can of Coke that was open from some other day in the fridge, suited up and was out the door running at 5:50. FUCK! I think that is the fastest I have gotten out the door for a long run. I was like not even entirely awake when I started running, and that was good, I suppose.

It didn't feel too hot yet, and the sun wasn't fully up, so I was probably not going to suffer too badly for the heat, but I could tell my legs were a little toasted, but too bad HTFU. Initially I was going to do 7.5 miles total out and back and then repeat, because I guess I decided I should run 15 miles however long it would take, which would normally be around 2:15 but today I'm running on asphalt and sidewalk and it's rolling hills so who knows? There is a water fountain 1.5 miles in and then again 2.5 miles in, so that plus the 12 oz. of flat Coke I was carrying was certainly enough for 7.5 miles or maybe even more.

Somewhere along the way I remembered there's a water fountain at the outdoor pool, and I thought, perfect, I will run there (it's about 5.3 miles), suck down water and some Coke, fill my bottle and get on my way. I didn't drink anything until I got there, and felt fine with the one cup of coffee, 1/2 can of Coke and maybe 16 oz. of water that I drank before I left. I ran into MJ at the pool, took a piss, and turned around to head home.

It was still not too hot out, and I had plenty of shade to run in which was great. But man, my legs were feeling the pounding on the pavement. Too bad, HTFU. I would look at my right hand with the HTFU bracelet and tell myself no walking, none of that today. It always feels good to be running by people on their way to work while I am thinking smugly to myself, "I'm an idiot because I'm running 15 miles this morning." I don't know why logically that makes sense, but it does!

When I was about a mile from home, I had to think about how I was going to do the remaining miles. My first thought was to run up and down the .3 mile hill from my house 9 times. Now, I know that sounds OCD-ish, but I have no problem doing all kinds of repeats of things (as you may know) in order to get distance and/or time in. Back at the ranch, I opened a fresh, fizzy can of Coke and took a few sips, went back outside with it, and left it by my front door.

I started up the hill, and thought what the fuck, I am so stupid, I should just do block repeats. If I run around what I call the "big block," it's 1.15 miles and rolling hills (of course), and so I decided I'd do that 4 or 5 times. This seemed like a better idea than running up and down the hill 9 times.

So I did the first repeat, and I was running a good pace, and I stopped briefly to swig some Coke, and it was still cold, and that was great. When I was on the 4th lap, I thought about stopping at that point, because it would be just over 15 miles, but I thought fuck it, HTFU I did that much last week let's add another mile. So I headed out for lap #5, and even though it hurt like a motherfucker, I got it done, and it was my second fastest lap out of the 5.

All in all, I did 16.37 miles in 2:27.46 for a pace of 9:02, which is faster than I thought I'd be able to go.

I'm eating a bowl of fruit even though I really REALLY want some fucking pizza right now. Even though I talk about how I eat all this crap, I really eat pretty cleanly for the most part. Although last night I had a Twinkie with my last beer of the evening ;) And I had a snack before dinner of some Pringles with sour cream. Oh well, I guess all those carbs helped me out today, eh?

Tomorrow is going to be an early morning repeat, since I am going to swim, bike and run and it's going to be hot, hot, hot, so I want to be in the pool swimming at 5:30AM. OMG, I am fucked, I think. Why am I doing this tomorrow? Because I want to do a stinking sprint race on Sunday.

Oh, geez, I am fucking out of my mind. But you know what? This is my idea of FUN! Going out there when your legs hurt and pounding out some miles and sort of half grimacing, half smiling while you are doing it and then just getting it done because a lot of life really is all about HTFU'ing when the chips are down.

Here I am post-run, suitable sweaty, but still standing!

What Do I Call It?

OK, so previous post you see what I am attempting to do. Top contender for a name so far is UltraNothingMan. Maybe I should leave "man" out of it entirely--after all, it is just going to be me (unless somebody surprises me and fills out the imaginary race application). So maybe just UltraNothing? Or maybe I'll go with a Prince-like thing and just have a symbol that can't be pronounced...here I found the Chinese character for Nothing. I like how the pronunciation is kongkong. While I'm doing it, if anyone asks me what I'm doing, I'll say that!

I can't even believe I'm already looking forward to this even though I haven't even done IMLP yet! But now it gives IMLP that much more "meaning," if there is, in fact, meaning to be found in an Ironman.

And yet I need to get through some more training, and it's a LOT of training, and so I'm taking things one day at a time. Before I know it, I'll be packing for IMLP and getting excited about that, but first, I need to just get through the rest of this week.

Today was a tempo-ish run in the 90's and it sucked and I ended up doing the last few miles indoors on the track at the Y because I couldn't keep my HR down. Tomorrow is a 2:15 run and I am not sure right at this minute whether I will do it outside early or on the treadmill. Friday I am taking a day off from work and swimming 3,000 yds., riding 4:30 and doing a brick run. Maybe I should call it a triathlon, huh? Saturday will be a short easy ride and then Sunday is a sprint race. It looks like the temps will drop somewhat but it will still be hot. Oh well. It is what it is.

After all, I have kongkong coming up...

A Very Special Crackheaded Announcement

Those of you who are friends on Facebook have seen me alluding to something today that I promised I would unveil here on the blog first.

I almost don't even know how to talk about it. It came to me in the middle of last night. I had been struggling with do I or do I not do IM Canada? It's not the "doing" of it that's an issue--it's the travel and I hadn't made any plans, and as much as I know I could go back there and kick the course's ass, I just haven't felt the need to end this season with another WTC/NAS (or whatever the fuck it is now) Ironman (I am already doing IMLP). It would have, indeed, been fun to meet some people face to face that I've never met before, fun to do the race, all that stuff.

But my heart, while still broken, has needed something else to revive me, to make me feel alive and challenged and maybe lead me to that next step. I'm signed up for a 50-mile trail race in October, I'm going back to Goofy Challenge (which is no big deal to me) in January, and I had thought about doing a "double Ironman" training week in 2010. I had also talked about a sequence of triathlons with an impressive total distance sometime earlier this year with someone, but it was expressed in terms of "next year." Well, you know what? I'm training pretty well, I'll have IMLP as a warmup race (and I do intend to race that) and being undecided about IM Canada, last night I thought what the fuck let's do this thing THIS YEAR.

So initially the thought was 4 days (and these are all "do it on my own" fuck actual races I don't need no stinkin' medals or T-shirts):

• Day 1: Sprint
• Day 2: Olympic distance
• Day 3: Half Ironman distance
• Day 4: Ironman distance

But then I add up some numbers and think, huh, that's close to double Ironman but not quite. So while stuck in traffic this afternoon (only to return to a house with no power, but obviously it's back on, thank GOD because it's still 91 here), I figure out how it's going to go. This will begin on August 24, 2009:

• Monday, August 24: Run 3.8 miles or so. This is just to get the total run miles for the week up to 52.4, which is double Ironman.
• Tuesday, August 25: Rest day
• Wednesday, August 26: Sprint (sort of) of 1500m swim/20-mile bike/5K run
• Thursday, August 27: Olympic (sort of) of 2000m swim/30-mile bike/10K run
• Friday, August 28: Half Ironman (sort of) of 2500m swim/60-mile bike/13.1 mile run
• Saturday, August 29: Ironman (sort of) of 4000m swim/115-mile bike/26.2 mile run

And the total is 10,000m swimming, 225 miles biking and 52.4 miles running.

Can I do it? Well, I've done the whole sprint/Oly/Half Ironman before. No big deal. Part of Triple T. It's that pesky Ironman thing at the end that will be tough. So I will be leaning on some friends for advice--I think I know how to pace this, and I have to find places to get it done. I'm OK swimming in the outdoor 50m pool, and riding from there. I think I will need to do the half and full IM runs on trail, though, which will necessitate some transportation or something.

I have time to figure out the logistics!

Am I going to ask if anyone wants to come along with me? FUCK NO! I am assuming I will be doing this all by myself. If once I post where the hell I will be while rolling someone wants to show up and swim/ride/run along with me or just clap or look at me like I'm fucking insane, that's perfectly fine by me.

Even though I won't be doing sanctioned races, I am hoping that if I decide to submit an application for Ultraman Kona, that they will consider me appropriately loony but qualified to race there. That has been one of my goals for several years now, and it's time to start making good on it, eh?

Now this all begs the question WHY??? Why is because I think I can do it, but it's also somewhat scary, because this is how I feed my soul, because this is how I exorcise demons that seem to plague me only leaving me when I push myself to another place, and because once I lock in on something that I think I should do, I'm already doing it.

I've had enough of doing it for the prize, the glory, frankly I don't give a shit what anyone thinks of me anymore.

I might fail at this; but I might not. All I can do is tri, right?

More on Horribly Hilly

The more I read elsewhere about this ride and specifically this year, the better I feel about how I did.

Here's an article about the last rest stop, which is about 100 miles and 7800 feet of climbing in.

Here's a blog post by a guy who had to walk many of the hills. Interesting to note it says the temperature reached 88. Look at the graph at the end that shows that last climb into the park. It's brutal!

Also, checking my archives, this was my 5th and fastest attempt at the sonofabitch (although in 2006 I only did 100K since it was just 2 weeks after Ironman Brazil and I knew better).

There is another ride in the area on July 11 called Insane Terrain. The 200K course has a road on it called Roller Coaster Road. I think I need to go there...

Horribly Hilly Hundreds Ride Report

This was my 4th or 5th time doing this ride. The first time I did it, I found out about it from some email that magically came to me, and I remember thinking, hey, this looks pretty hard, I should try it! It was back then, I think, that I began getting on email lists for challenging events.

The first time I did it, I did it on Bitchie and went by myself. I am perfectly fine doing things totally on my own, and cool with a group, too. I did OK that time, but had to walk part way up the final climb and vowed I would never walk it again, and I haven't.

This year, I signed up with and was originally supposed to stay with, Jostein (OMG I said his name!). But you may know how that turned out. About 5 or 6 weeks ago, a guy living in my area found me on the IamTri networking site, we exchanged emails and friended on Facebook. I didn't know too much about him until he saw my (now deleted) blog post about what had recently happened between me and Jostein, and sometimes, common misery brings people together, so long story short, Brad and I started talking about doing some stuff together (this is just friends kids, I am old enough to be his Mom). He ended up doing the Rockman sprint the day I did the half, but I didn't know it until the next day. I convinced him to come and ride Horribly Hilly, even though I knew he'd be far, far ahead of me, but I thought he'd enjoy it, having recently spent time in the Rockies, plus he races bikes and just started doing triathlons and is kicking serious ass.

So we drive up there Friday night, talking the entire time, and just as we got to Mount Horeb for packet pickup, it began raining, and our bikes were on top of his Jeep, so they got a nice bath. Oh well, no worries, it was forecast to be sunny and hot for Saturday. I ran into a few people I know at registration, and we spent some time looking over the large-scale map of the ride route and talking to one of the volunteers (who looked, physique-wise to be an experienced rider), and I recounted many of the roads whose names I remembered fondly as sporting climbs that SUCK BAD.

Next we checked into the Super 8 in Verona, where I've stayed I don't know how many times (I'll be there again in 2 weeks for a race rehearsal weekend). Now, while I don't travel with a lot of girly body care products, I do have certain things that I need with me like one of my own bed pillows, a small selection of clothes, a small cooler with bike bottles and other fluids, and extra bike shit in case something breaks down. Whereas Brad had a bag of wheels, a backpack and a pump. It was kind of funny, but he didn't make fun of me or anything.

We ate dinner at Avanti and ran into several more people that I know (all men), and we thought we'd all start riding together the next day, but that never happened. Some random barfly chatted us up because he wanted to know why my shirt said "Crackhead" on it and then we talked about what we were doing, and how Brad ended up in Chicago and what he's doing here, which is Assistant Pro (sorry if I get the title wrong) at Medinah Country Club. Golf and triathlon--seems like a good mix to me!

We split an extra large pizza, and I think Brad was impressed that I could eat so much, but when I know what's coming the next day, my brain just tells me to eat.

The stupid hotel room didn't get cold enough, so I slept fitfully, but still slept, and then 4:45AM, and it's wake the fuck up time. I looked out the window and the sky was perfectly clear, and it was already 65, so it was going to be a hot day. Perfect!

In getting to the ride start, there were so many cars lined up to get into Mounds State Park, that it appeared we wouldn't make a 6:30AM start time, but no worries, I think we got started just before 7AM, which was the official start. We didn't want to get into that whole fray, so we took off just a bit ahead. Right away we were riding with 3 other guys, but I knew that pace was too fast for me, so after a few miles, I just let them go. I really don't mind riding by myself.

I had thought I was well-prepared for a decent ride on the day, what with Rockman having been hilly, and having done several other rides with decent amounts of climbing. But you never know, right? To fuck with my head, the Ergomo decided not to show me speed or distance, but I still had cadence (who cares?) and watts. Even still, in doing a ride like this, it's basically about get your ass up each hill and then hammer down as hard as you can and take advantage of the few flatish stretches.

On one of the climbs in the first stage (5 stages--see course map), I remember feeling like my heart was going to jump out of my chest. I didn't think I was pushing it that hard, but I guess I must have--typically I will feel a little like this on the first bad climb, but I honestly thought, "Huh, maybe I'm going to die right now." But I didn't really care, and had no choice but to continue climbing.

I got the first stage, which was 24 miles, done in like 1:26, and I remember thinking, huh, that's like 16MPH, I'll take it. Actually it's 16.7 MPH. There was 2041 feet of climbing in that 24 miles. The worst part of this stage is the 3.5 mile climb back up into Mounds State Park.

The second stage is 20.3 miles, and I got it done in 1:15, so 16.2 MPH. Again, I was pretty pleased with myself. There was only 1673 feet of climbing in that 20 miles. During Stage 2, you go by or on parts of the Ironman Wisconsin course, like Garfoot Road, so you see plenty of people just riding the course as well as HHH riders. I think the Mineral Point climb on this stretch was the hardest. I had been on Vermont Church Road with Jostein in April, I think, so when we got there I was like I've done this a bunch of times already.

Stage 3 is 20.9 miles, and it's the flattest stage (only 1509 feet of gain), and I thought I might have been pushing it a bit, so I decided to take it easy. I got it done in 1:14, which is 16.9MPH. The worst climb, to me, on this stage was the Turkey Road/Blackberry Road combination. When I saw the sign for Turkey Road, I was like, "Oh FUCK" in my head or maybe out loud--I don't know. I guess it was out loud because 2 guys rode just ahead of me and went, "Gobble Gobble." Turkey Road (as many of the climbs on this ride) starts out innocently enough, but then you get fucked in the ass at least 3 times, and then you think you are done with a short downhill, you make a left and you start climbing Blackberry Road! Ugh...that was just unnecessary (as the entire ride but that's why we do it, right?).

Stage 4 is long--33 miles, and mentally tough, plus, this is where they really start throwing the nastiest hills at you that they could find. There is 2543 feet of climbing in this section. I did it in 2:07, so my speed noticeably dropped--all of 15.6MPH. I suck. And man, this stretch has some of the worst fucking shit you can imagine. Reeves Road had like 5 separate fuck you in the ass climbs, and you could never see up ahead to the end of the road. It was funny driving back home that Brad commented we'd be in a flat stretch, and he'd see some hill and think, "Of COURSE they are going to send us up there." He also, as I did a number of times, would notice these houses at the tops of these hills with really long driveways, and sometimes the driveways would look like roads, and he said he thought that if they weren't gravel they would have made us ride right up to their front door!

Anyway, Reeves Road sucked bad, Fesenfeld, Sutcliffe, Zwettler (really fucking bad) and Ray Hollow. All major suckage.

I don't know about anyone else, but my legs are starting to feel pretty fried by now, and the brain starts playing games with me. I started thinking how the hell am I going to finish this thing, I suck, I suck and I want to stop. But you get to that last aid station and this is where you need to have a serious talk with yourself. Why? Because the last stage is the hardest of all. First, you are going to head right out of that aid station and climb Pinnacle Road, which is just a leg burner, then you get Lake View Road, which sounds pleasant enough, but anything with View, Ridge, Hollow, Valley or Otto (!) in the name is going to be horrendous.

So at this point, my brain is going a little haywire on me--it's hot, I'm overheated, sweaty as hell, covered in bugs, sticky, disgusting and just plain tired. And yet, for some unknown reason, I get back on my bike and head out.

You get maybe 1/2 mile and you are already on Pinnacle Road (pinnacle not being a nice word this day), and I'm thinking no way am I going to be able to climb it without walking, but somehow, I make it up 1, 2 and then 3 sectors of the climb, but wait, that's not enough, there's a short downhill and they fuck you in the ass one more time up to a stop sign at a T intersection.

But I made it, I made it! How the hell did that happen? But I can tell my legs are really, really fried, and I'm also suffering because I decided to eat 1/2 of a ham sandwich back at the aid station and my body is trying to send blood to my stomach while my legs are being tortured to death. But I figured I should be able to recover from this shit, right?

Fuck no. It's not very long before we get to Lake View Road, and I remembered this one as being pretty and at the same time fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. There are some shorter climbs on this road, but the last 2 you can see (which was rare for all the hills we'd been on) the road going straight up, and I guess it was just demoralizing and I was hot and I wanted to quit so bad, and I'd see SAG going the other way yet somehow my hand did not go up COME AND GET ME.

So I stopped briefly (it was may 15 seconds) at the bottom of the first big climb and had a little chat with myself. I said that if I could make it up here I was going to be fine to finish the whole fucking thing so let's go get it done. And just as I had been up until now as I was climbing, I looked at my HARDEN THE FUCK UP bracelet and was chanting to myself "Harden the Fuck Up, Sheila" over and over and over again, and somehow I made it up that bitch and the switch went back on in my brain that I was doing OK and everyone else was probably suffering, too, but there was one more of these fuckers to get up, and that one was just fine and I felt good to go.

After Lake View, there was a nice flatish section and then we start climbing again and I'm thinking, "Where the fuck are we?" And then I remember, we are going into the town of Barneveld and there's a nasty climb right into town, but before I had time to think too much about it, I'm on it, and somehow I am even passing a few people, but now I am remembering that this is the last bad climb before we head back into the park.

And you get out of Barneveld and there's a whole lot of pretty countryside (as there was all day--I should note that the scenery is beautiful if you can manage to look around you instead of at the fucking road all day), and it's mainly rolling, and now you can see the Mound and you sort of start getting this sense of dread. Because you climbed that bitch once already today, only it was maybe 7 miles into the ride and didn't feel too bad, but the second time, you do the whole climb and then there's the last 800 feet up into the park itself that you didn't do before but that is really, really bad.

So I'm riding and just figuring, oh well, time to get this done, and another friend of mine, Joel, comes by. We run into each other a lot at races and rides, and he says this is the last time he will get ahead of me because I will pass him going into the park. I didn't really think so, as he was looking pretty strong, but still I tried to stay sort of with him.

When we got to the turn into the park, I thought that was fast, and then I thought, oh shit, here it is. I was right with Joel, but after the first flatish 1/2 mile, I stopped my bike briefly to catch my breath, and that's when I invoked my dead Dad to help me out for the first time all day. I had some of his ashes with me, and just like he pushed me up many hills on the run course at Rockman, I really hoped he'd be able to push my sorry ass up this final climb.

I forgot how many twists and turns and you think you're done but you're not, and my legs were just screaming, but I was telling myself to try and relax and breathe, and even though I had really, really thought I wasn't going to make it several times and would need to stop and walk my bike, I just kept going. I did see one girl walking with her bike and thought I wonder if walking would be faster, but somehow I rode up to her and past, and despite how pitifully slow I was going, I was going faster than if I had walked, so I just kept it up, and I did pass Joel somehow and we said a few soft words to one another, and then I got to the crest where you turn right for the worst part into the park and I thought I was going to need to stop, but I didn't, because if I stopped now it was all over, and I couldn't even believe I was turning the cranks at all, and I wanted to stand up but knew if I did I'd be committed and it would hurt even more, so I just kept turning the cranks over, and there were people lining the road now clapping and encouraging us, and I couldn't believe I was going to make it up, and finally I did and went through the makeshift finish line, and I saw Brad sitting on the grass waiting for me and I was so happy to be done!

And I looked down at the Ergomo, which although it hadn't shown me anything but watts all day long, I figured the time was correct because I knew about how long I had spent at the aid stations, and I had done the whole thing plus the aid stations in 9:30, which meant the 8:13 on the clock for riding time was good, and that was a PR for me by about :45! But it wasn't sinking in, and besides, I wanted to hear about Brad's experience, because after all, I had dragged him here telling him it would be challenging even though it's not the Rocky Mountains.

And he told me how he got to ride with Robbie Ventura, easily keeping pace with him, and I don't know Brad's actual time, but let's just say he's really fucking fast, and I have to say thanks that he waited for my sorry ass there, and I didn't want to keep him much longer, so I first grabbed and ice cream cone, then walked over and got a beer, then went to the car, toweled myself off, loaded up the Jeep and we got on our way, me driving.

And as in years past, you are just so wired from what you have done, and I mostly wanted to hear about it from Brad's perspective which was hilarious since he had no idea what to expect, but I knew he'd be right up there with the lead riders all day. It was funny that he had some of the same evil brain thoughts that I did like this really sucks I am sick of it and yet we would keep going, and we'd think about how "they" were making us go up these stupid hills all day, but "they" was really OURSELVES and we have nobody else to blame.

And I rode pretty much all day by myself and in a sick, sick sort of way, enjoyed it. I had thought to myself that if I rode a good time on the day that it might be an omen for Lake Placid, and I guess so, and I guess it's time for me to start ignoring the numbers on the power meter like I did yesterday and JFR (Just Fucking Ride) and get it done.

So now it's 5 weeks to IMLP and I've got 3 more big weekends of work (mostly riding) to get done, and I'm psyched for it, and honestly, I feel pretty good today, although I'm just going to go for a swim and a short run to work the crap out of my muscles.

Mostly I'm really glad to have made a new friend who is as crazy or maybe even worse than me, and we are driving to IMLP together which will be fun as hell, and I get to play Iron Mentor to Brad for his first Ironman, and that always gets me excited to see all the excitement and fear on a person doing their first one, but I'm sure he's going to do just fine, and I am looking forward to putting myself in a seriously painful place on the day--this year is the first time I've felt like I could go to that place, and I don't know what that means, but I am finally feeling strong this year despite some emotional and physical hurdles (and I know there will be more), so all I need to do at this point is stay physically healthy and I should be fine.

One thing I do know is that physical pain is nothing compared to emotional pain, and while physical pain doesn't cancel out the emotional, it seems to provide some relief. So I will keep planning to hurt myself in a way that seems to be good. And on that note, I am going for a short run and then a swim to try and loosen up.

Happy Father's Day to all of you who are Dads, and to everyone who still has their Dad living, be grateful--it is never the same once he's gone!

I'm a Fucking Slug

So I get a comment from someone I did not know about before, and he is oddly a runner, mathematician and computer geek. Don't know about the music and gardening and Barbies ;)

And I go to his blog and find out that a new Mersenne prime number has been discovered. Read all about it here.

Fun fact: I have a poster in my home office of 2**(6,972,593) - 1. Yes that's right--it's a big, huge prime number, and the poster has all the digits on it (all 2,000,000+). Perhaps it serves to remind me that we are just small parts of a large universe, or maybe just the beauty of numbers.

A lot of people think of pets as the perfect foil for giving and receiving unconditional love. While I don't think numbers can do that for you, in and of themselves they can be very beautiful things. Why else the obsession with the measurement of time, training to shave seconds (numbers) off a finishing time, recording all sorts of training details (mostly numerically oriented) into a log for what, posterity?

Sometimes I stare at my training spreadsheet and just take it for what it is--a bit of artistic output that nonetheless is serving as my guidepost for a period of time.

There are times when a person has hurt me that I've wanted to tell them, "But if you would just realize the beautfy of everything around you, including the numbers, you wouldn't act this way," and I believe it's true. Yesterday while running, I stopped to watch a robin eating fruit off a Cornelian Cherry bush/tree, and all at once I saw the symmetry (numbers) of the branches, the shape (spherical) of the berries and the random act (robin) of receiving bounty from them. There is math all around us, and it's one of the things (order) that can help calm me in times of trouble. Math and colors. Colors make the math more beautiful, although black and white numbers are just fine, too.

Math is completely and utterly logical. Numbers don't lie--only humans that seek to twist the meaning of numbers. If I say TWO to you, does it mean anything? What do you think of when you hear the number 2? Ha ha, "number 2" for one, probably. I think "the only even prime number." I think 2 people, connected, which is the best way that I function socially.

13. Coming up in just about 5 weeks.

I Feel the Need for...(censored)

Just feel like posting today. Nothing special, except to note that I feel like my game is back on.

After getting in over 200 miles of riding last week (Saturday was 3 hours on the trainer at 82% of FTP and Sunday was 108 miles at about 87% of FTP with a couple of guys), I felt a little shelled on Monday, but it turned into a great day.

At 7AM I ran (2.8 miles) home after dropping my car off for a tuneup. I was duly surprised to realize that I was running just a little slower than 10K pace. Nice! Then I thought, what the hell, I may as well start in on my strength training, and did about :40 of that, which included legs. Now my legs were feeling it from the weekend, but I had committed to running back to pick up my car.

As I started out, I figured I was going to be slower than in the morning, because it had seemed in the morning that there was a lot of downhill. But actually it's rolling in both directions, and I told myself "It's not even 3 miles" meaning I should be able to hustle. And I did, and I ran about a minute faster than in the morning! When I got to the mechanic's, a nice older woman commented on how I must like pink because I was all pinked out (yes I like pink but really I just like bright colors), and my face sure was pink at that point, and then I drove to get a massage, but made sure I toweled myself off in the restroom before getting on the table.

The massage was wonderful, as always (thanks, Mike!), even as Mike dug deeply into me, especially my glutes. He did some maneuver on my ass and kept asking me if it hurt, and I kept saying NO, and he said, "Are you sure?" Hey, if someone on or in my ass hurts, believe me, I will say so! I ended up saying that I have a hard ass, and yes I do right about now, which is about par for the course.

I slept like a baby Monday night, and yesterday morning I went to swim and ended up at the Y because it was raining pretty hard again, so no riding to the outdoor pool. I had written a drill workout for the day, but after the warmup I decided fuck drills, I'm just swimming. So I put on the paddles and did 2200 straight with them and the pull buoy. Strength training, baby!

Before I started work yesterday, I finished up the strength training (:25), and was feeling good when it was time to go for a ride. The plan was for 1:45 with some hefty doses of threshold and super-threshold work. It's been raining a lot lately, but I though I would beat the rain on the radar, so I headed out, and really didn't warmup but just started riding hard, but I didn't think I was riding that hard, what with stops and such. As I got into the main set of the workout, it started to rain (about :30 in), but not too hard initially, but I figured I head for home and reevaluate. Well, once again, I thought the rain was done so headed out for some more action, and then it really started coming down. Even though it might stop, it might not, so I hammered home, having gotten in about an hour of riding, wiped down the bike, changed clothes and got on the trainer.

Well on the trainer now, I could see I was pushing watts, so all good, I just went for a total TSS score, which is what I do sometimes, and I decided to since I had fucked around because of the rain and needed to get back to work, so I just pushed really hard for another 1/2 hour, or whatever it was to get to a TSS of 120, not bad! Turns out I rode at 88% of FTP, so you stack that on top of the weekend, and I am getting fit or something on the bike! Plus it was my THIRD workout of the day!

This morning, I rode to the outdoor pool and got in 3200 meters. I probably wasn't swimming too fast, but I didn't care--I was just happy to be outdoors and it wasn't raining. Now I'm about to go run about 8 miles and we'll see how my legs feel, since it's basically my third workout of the day. Tomorrow is a 2:15 run, and as long as it doesn't rain, I'm looking forward to it!

Last night I had the pleasure of talking with Kim, who frequently comments on my blog. She gave me this awesome pirate hat which I need to get a pic of (I'm wearing it right now!). Sadly, she's moving to Florida, but that makes 5 good friends of mine in that state...hmm...maybe my turn is coming?

Anyway, I'm starting to feel a bit aggro, so word to the wise, don't fuck with me (and I don't mean that literally depending on who you are!)--I do not wish to be messed with at this time. The claws and teeth will come out, something like this:

The Important Stuff, and oh yeah those fucking Weekly Workout Totals for 6/08/2009-6/14/2009

First, the important stuff. I'm coming up on Ironman #13. I have several very close friends, most of whom are triathletes, and I know a bunch of triathletes and assorted people from my various doings in life. I read Slowtwitch forums and am just as familiar with the OCD-ness displayed there and also by myself.

I started thinking about my past Ironman's and what I most remembered about each of them, so here goes:

• Lake Placid, 2001: I was scared shitless, but my then coach assured me I'd be just fine. I had my friend Cindy to freak out with, and I was so grateful that she and I were sharing this huge deal.
• Wisconsin, 2002: It was a beautiful day, and I had a good friend sherpa for me, meet me out on the course and take pics. All I could think of that day was how lucky I was to be doing this and have such a good friend with me.
• Wisconsin, 2003: It was a miserably hot day, but I had a good friend taking care of me the entire time.
  
• Great Floridain, 2003: I went by myself, raced by myself, but the bright spot was an unexpected appearance by two friends, and that just made my day.
• Canada, 2004: I roomed with a near stranger, but I never felt alone once I met a couple of guys who shared deeply personal stories with me and I with them. I phoned a close friend when I was finished and packing my bike since I had a flight out at 6AM the next day, and she reminded me that I had better get some more food in me. Thanks!
  
• Hawaii, 2004: I had two dear friends with me who put up with my volatile moods and made sure I didn't forget that I was in my favorite place on Earth.
• Wisconsin, 2005: It was a miserably hot day, but I had several friends doing the race, and we were all in it together.
• Brazil, 2006: I was walking around in transition crying over how alone I felt that my Mom had just passed away a month before, and an almost perfect stranger put his arms around me and told me I'd make it through, and I did.
• Lake Placid, 2007: I had my coach and friend with me and another close friend close by, and we made the week more about our friendship than the race. And we both had great races!
• NothingMan One, 2007: I spent the day with someone I had just met in person a month earlier and our "race" was more about connecting with one another through that adventure.
  
• Lake Placid, 2008: It was a miserably cold and rainy day, and I raced the entire time with the memory of my Dad, including some of his ashes, but the time I spent with several of my best friends was the most precious thing of all.
• NothingMan Two, 2008: I spent a few days with someone I had just met in person that weekend, and once again, the "race" became a way to connect with one another rather than how far or how long.

So you see, it's always been about friends and connections. Pretty deep shit, eh?

And now, just so you know that I'm training well again:

Weekly Workout Totals	06/08/2009-06/14/2009 This week's totals are sponsored by FINALLY BIKING ENOUGH!
Swim:	10420 yards (5.91 miles) in 3.68 hours; 18% of weekly workout time; approx. 1289 calories burned Canadian: 9528.05 meters
Bike:	Approx. 207.7 miles in 10.75 hours; 53% of weekly workout time; approx. 4976 calories burned; Total TSS=699 Canadian: 334.26 kilometers
Run:	Approx. 31.97 miles in 4.89 hours; 24% of weekly workout time; approx. 2207 calories burned Canadian: 51.45 kilometers
Strength:	1.02 hours; 5% of weekly workout time; approx. 255 calories burned
All Sports:	Approx. 245.58 miles in 20.34 hours; approx. 8727 calories burned Canadian: 395.22 kilometers
Sleep:	7.96 hours avg./night
Stretching:	2.17 hours. Massage: 1 hours

Lust

I am now lusting for training all the time, as I should be. I want to wake up, train and train some more.

Today I rode 3:05 on the trainer at 82% of FTP, then ran :45 on the treadmill at a pretty good clip and swam 1,000 yards. I got a Brazilian wax and hey, it doesn't hurt a bit. How could it compared to the training?

I'm banging out 20+ hour weeks for the next 4, and I will love it. It will be blissful. Starting today, I am advertising my lust for training. I am smiling like I have a special secret, even while what I'm doing is hurting. I want everyone to know how this feels. It feels FUCKING AWESOME.

Tomorrow I'm riding 100 miles on Bitchie. I can't wait! It is suppoed to be sunny and warm, and I need some of that. Sun and warmth will just fuel the lust.

I made a new friend, and he's awesome--crazy fucker like me--doing IMLP and we'll see one another again at Goofy Challenge, but probably more in the future.

Next Saturday is Horribly Hilly Hundreds, and I can't wait for it! I missed it last year, but it rained anyway, so hopefully it will be hot!

Dear Athlete

Dear Sheila:

This is Ironman Lake Placid (aka IMLP). I just wanted to see where you're at, considering we're going to meet up again in 7 weeks. You signed up for me just under a year ago, remember? Remember how you said you weren't going to see me again, and yet the day before last year's race there you were in line with the others ready to sign up again?

You know what? I have no fucking idea what the weather will be on race day. It might suck like last year; it might be beautiful like in 2007.

I don't care that you got sick and it caused a few weeks of what you consider sub-standard training.

I don't care that you are still crying over someone who didn't know how or really want to be your friend.

I don't care that it has become challenging to you to manage your daily life--feeding yourself, taking care of dishes, bottles and laundry, bills, your car, your house, your yard, your job, your friends--while trying to be ready for me.

I don't care that you are starting to have "the dreams." You know--the ones where you are in transition naked and late for the start of the race, your bike was stolen and there is nobody around to help you.

I don't care that you are getting stressed about THE STRESS. Even if you claim that you are so jaded that you don't experience it any more.

I don't care that you at your lowest race weight ever or how good you think it makes you look and feel.

I don't care that that run the other day was fucking great.

I don't care that you feel all alone since your parents are gone and never saw you during an Ironman race.

I don't care that you are saying this might be your last Ironman ever. I wouldn't care if it were your first, either.

I don't care what kind of silly race outfit you decide to wear or whether you wear those stupid streamers on your race belt.

I don't care whether you think you have the most fast, aero gear shit in the world.

I don't care that you trained more than some other people or less than some others. I really don't care how much you trained PERIOD.

I don't care whether you think you're ready for me right now or not.

I won't care if you get injured or are sick on race day. You've done that before, right?

I don't care how long it will take you to finish with me.

This is what I do care about:

• That you know, deep down in your heart, that you will be so happy to see me, that for that one day, no matter how much psychic or physical pain you might be in, you will be glad for having made it here at all.
• That you realize, even when you deny it, that other people look at you and think "hey, there's a woman who can commit to something and make it happen." And they want to be like you.
• That while you are out there, you can look at the other athletes, and they can look at you, and no matter that you are strangers or the look of pain and suffering on your faces, you know something about one another, and that knowing will give you energy to continue.
  
• That whether it takes you 9, 17 or some other number of hours to finish that it will be an accomplishment worthy of some serious celebration that you will honor.
• That you love and cherish all the people who helped you get here. They will see it in your eyes when you finish, and know that you will do the same for them in whatever endeavor they choose.
• That I will not have changed your life forever--you changed it yourself on the way here.
  

Random Shit

Please put on your fuckage helmet, because this one is going to be intense***

If you are linked to me on FB (if you're not look up by my email address; if you don't have that, and your Blogger account does, ship me a comment, argggghhhhh, and I'll find you).

I want to scream FUCK EVERYTHING.

On the other hand, I should HTFU. I have a fucking Ironman in what, 46 days?

I did a 1/2 IM on Sunday. Technically I won my AG, but still feel like I sucked. Fuck me! It was wet, rainy, hilly and hilly. Oh well.

You never know when a stranger is going to pay you a kindness. It happens at the moments when I feel like I need something from a "not stranger," but hey, I'll take strange when I can.

The triathlon bomb has gone off in my house. No more cleaning, for what, about 50 days?

Whereas before I may have had time to watch 1/2 hour of TV every now and then, time has shrunk and that is basically down to zero. If I want to get up early enough to bike to the outdoor pool, I need to be in bed on time.

Fitting in meals is getting complicated. I'm at 108 lbs. which is the lightest I've been since, well, when I got divorce years ago. My low then was 107, and somehow my evil brain wants to achieve that. Only now I have more muscle on me. I *almost* like the way my legs look now.

I am sick of it raining all the time here. I live in a fucking rain forest, for fuck's sake! When the fuck am I supposed to mow the lawn?

I need a haircut. My hair grows like a weed during the summer. I wish I could get it trimmed once a week.

Barbie is a whore.

So am I.

I wish I was faster at everything, but my body is just not into the speed thing. I will always suck.

I hate the fact that my 3 best girlfriends live in Nevada, Florida and Canada. I don't get to see them often enough!

I wish I didn't over-analyze every fucking thing and try to rationalize it at the same time. It is just how I am wired.

I am very bad at asking for what I need from other people. Then I guess that by the time I do, they are put off?

I am really very simple and don't need much from other people. A little "hey you're OK and don't suck," a hug every now and then, and if I cook for you, tell me it's good even if it's not.

If I pull for you on a ride, thank me rather than comment later on "I could have gone faster."

If I get quiet, it means something is wrong inside me. It might take a fucking crowbar to get it out of me and I might not be able to talk lucidly about it for a week or so, but it will come. If nobody does that TO me, I will just stew and stew and analyze the fuck out of everything, going this way and that, and it will be very confusing.

Yes, I have an "out there" exterior and to some people am intimidating (I still don't get that). I AM A FUCKING HUMAN BEING FOR CHRISSAKES! What am I doing that is so intimidating? Being myself? Somebody please answer me. I always thought intimidation was the OTHER person's issue. But if there's something better I can be doing, please let me know.

Life is too fucking short to not accept love even if it requires a bit of work.

Life is too fucking short to not do what you want to do.

Life is too fucking short to not make time for the important shit. And if anyone out there thinks I am not doing that, please let me know. I DO make time for what I consider important.

Life is a bunch of crap much of the time (thanks, Cindy). A LOT of crap. That's what friends are for--to keep you level-headed when the crap becomes too much or you forget that there ARE bright spots included.

It's crazy to be addicted to exercise and challenge and because of it not wanting to waste time on meaningless pursuits like doing the dishes or making time to communicate with people, but those things also need to get done. Your Mom will not keep doing everything for you! Besides, eventually you lose your Mom.

On the other hand, if it's a choice between doing the dishes and being with someone you love, pick B. But if they want YOU to do the dishes, then let them know they made the choice for you.

Life is too fucking short period.

Things That are Broken

• 1 pair of cycling shoes...screws keep falling out
• 1 digital camera. Have asked for a replacement
• 1 laptop. Mostly restored, probably needs replacing
• 1 modem. Got my money back on it
• 1 power meter battery
• lawnmower handle. Needs screws.
• Me

Everything but me is fixable at the moment.

Improvement

So far this week I have gotten every workout done, and they actually started to feel good on Tuesday.

Monday AM I swam and was so sluggish in the water and felt pitiful and was not thinking about swimming. But the water did seem to feel good on my body, after not having swum in over a week. Monday afternoon I ran and could tell my lungs were still impaired.

Tuesday AM I ran on the treadmill, which was like torture, but I kept a good pace and felt better than during Monday's run. Tuesday PM I rode LGL on the trainer because it was still pissing outside, but generated pretty good power. It is odd to me that I can still bike pretty well with impaired lungs.

Yesterday I swam in the morning, and had decent speed for about 2,000 yards worth, which is fine because on Sunday I will just swim a little more than that. But I still knocked out 3300 yards. In the early afternoon, I ran, and exceeded all speed expectations (and what I was supposed to do for the workout), and felt like my lungs had finally returned to at least 95% capacity. And it felt good to run! That made the 2-week mark since I had initially suspected I was ill.

Today I lifted for about an hour, rode for about 1:40 like I stole it, and then I had a short delay before my run. I ran (well, actually rode) into my friend Jamey who was walking down my street. I didn't recognize him until I was up close. He was having some car trouble and was trying to remember where I lived, so I pointed him about 1/2 block north, and he jogged and I rode and we got in my car (after a quick T2 by me!) with some gasoline and drove to his car. Luckily it was just that he was out of gas, and we chatted for maybe 20 minutes, then parted ways, I drove home and grabbed some Gatorade and headed out for a :30 run. OMG I was running close to my 5K pace, but it didn't feel like it! So I am pronouncing myself healed, but I am knocking wood since I won't really know until tomorrow.

Jamey is one of the coolest people I know, but our schedules don't often mesh. Still, whenever we do run into one another we always evaluate and comment on one another's body composition. He is my go-to guy who is so completely honest about himself and how he perceives me. He said I look "tight."

I feel pretty lean, in fact, leaner than I have ever been, but the good thing is that my appetite has returned and I am consuming Pringles, Twinkies and Cheetos with abandon and keeping my weight down to about 108-109. Now before anyone accuses me of being underweight and that causing my illness, just please go fuck off because the reason I got sick was from psychic stress, not from my training or diet. My body feels actually great, and my massage therapist says my muscles are all nice and supple and my joints highly mobile, although I have been a slacker in the stretching department, but am getting that back on track as well.

I am not completely over the virus/bacterial infections I have as my nose is still mucousy and I am coughing periodically, but nothing major. There is literally fuzz flying through the air now coming off various trees--probably mostly basswood trees--and that is not helping my nose or lungs as I'm allergic to all that stuff.

But I am feeling generally physically good.

Now as for the psychic stuff, well that's going to take longer. I still wake up and don't really want to get up, I am still crying a few times a day and still feeling overwhelmed, but maybe just a teensy bit less than a few days ago. At least with my body coming around that eliminates one piece of stress. Now I can start obsessing about this "race" on Sunday (Rockman 1/2 IM) and the weather has potential to be crap. This is going to be a "train through" race, since there is no way I can perform optimally based on the last 2 weeks. I am going to slack the swim, go relatively easy on the bike, and see how I can run, since I need to be positioned to get in some major hours in the next few weeks.

It is a beautiful day today. For right now I am glad to be alive.

Clearance

Whatever happened chemically this weekend appears to have cleared my system. Or maybe getting back to work helped, and maybe I am getting over this @@%&@(*$@%_@% illness.

Still some residual things to think about, but in the spirit of telling it like it is, I did that, and now it's time to move on.

Thanks to those of you expressing or feeling concerned. It is much appreciated!

The Art of Not Feeling Anything

I was so sick this weekend and hadn't worked out (not what I would call working out) in a few days and guess what I was left with? Nothing. I really can't survive without training, and I can't survive if I'm not healthy enough to train, because training is the only thing that keeps me from offing myself. I mean, literally Saturday I thought I was going to snuff it if I stayed in my house one minute longer so I got on my bike and went for a ride and didn't feel anything--no pain, no joy in riding, just the sensation of movement. But some sort of sensor must have been working because I knew I couldn't just stay out on my bike until dark and my muscles should be tired since I'd been so sick and so I should probably stop, and I was crying so much and couldn't stop and was surprised that the movement wasn't making me feel any better and I was afraid to go home because then I would be there alone again with my thoughts and feeling like crap. I lost my smile.

But I went home and grilled some stuff just so I was still DOING something, even managing a fake smile to my neighbors (who probably think I'm a complete and total loser) and maybe I wouldn't have to think so much, and I should have been really hungry because I never did eat lunch so I should have needed two full meals, but I put some stuff on a plate and it looked like a lot of food, and I think I ate almost a complete meal.

I guess right now I'm sort of still sorting things out, but I did figure out that I need to be healthy to train and I need to train in order not to feel, but how long is that going to last? I can't imagine myself (as I found out this last week) not being able to do as much as I like to do, so what does that mean?

So yesterday I managed to get on my bike again and was crying most of the time even while going fast (for me). I never thought I could do that, so I guess this is a new skill. I would stop crying for a little bit, and think OK, I'm fine now, but then it wouldn't last very long. I had wanted to ride more than I did, but I knew I should probably stop when I must have blacked out momentarily (and no, I have not been drinking a lot I had like 2 beers on Saturday night) thankfully while going slow, and just sort of fell over on some gravel (or so it seemed when I found myself on the ground with my bike on top of me), and it didn't hurt at all, and I'm not sure if I banged my head or not. I had this sense that I had probably hurt myself, since falling into gravel usually hurts (especially when you are wearing nothing but a swimsuit--why? Because if I do race this Sunday, it might be cool and I will probably be dressed the same way), but I wasn't feeling any pain. I got back up and noticed the gravel had done a number on my left brake lever, but other than that the bike was fine. There was some gravel on the left side of my back and shoulder, and I just brushed it off.

I took my left index finger and ran it over the brake with a lot of pressure and got a sliver of metal in my finger. I looked at it, and it didn't hurt, but I knew I had to get it out of there, but remembered I had a tetanus shot just 2 years ago when I was bit by a dog, so no worries there. And I rode a little more, had some more tears (I wonder if crying so much makes you dehydrated?), put the bike away and got ready to run or at least try.

Now running, that demands your attention. I have not figured out how to run, breathe and cry all at the same time so at least I got a respite from the crying. And then when I got back home, I should have been really hungry again since I'd missed lunch again, but I just wasn't that hungry, but I put all this food onto 2 plates and ate maybe 1/3 of it and I think I eventually finished it in the middle of the night.

I was more concerned with digging the sliver out of my finger than eating. I sterilized a sewing needle and started working on it. No pain, I mean ZERO. I could have just stuck that needle all the way through my finger and wouldn't have felt it. That accomplished, I got in the shower. I noticed what I thought was a grease streak on my right ankle (from the fall), and began washing it off with soap, and what do you know, there was a cut under it--not too bad, but it had bled and I had not felt a thing.

Then I had some food, but not a lot, and then I got really cold and got under a blanket and listened to some music for awhile, and figured I should mow the lawn (again, where was my logic?), so I put on long pants and a long shirt to do that.

I tried to read some of the Sunday paper, but I just couldn't concentrate on it. I think I must have cried all my tears out because finally I became rather calm and felt like I could sleep. I wanted to sleep and not wake up.

But I did wake up this morning, and instead of my usual bound out of bed because I'm so happy to face the day (Mondays usually being my favorite day of the week), I just sort of got out, noticed it was raining, started the coffee and decided I would try and swim. I hadn't swum all last week, thinking I just couldn't do it. When I put on my swimsuit, I noticed that I guess I got sunburned yesterday. I never did feel that at all last night. Usually I feel a sunburn during the night, especially on my back.

It was raining and cool, so no outdoor pool yet, and the water was too warm at the Y as usual, and I got in and swam like for God's sake totally crappy. I guess my lungs are still not 100%, and usually when I'm swimming I think about, well, swimming or stuff I have to do, but all I could think about was death. Like what would it feel like to just start drinking the pool water until I couldn't drink any more? But I kept swimming and breathing, swimming usually feels good to me. I felt like I just had to do it today, though--see if maybe I could just let go and not think and just swim. And I realized that I have to get my Dad's estate closed, and that is important, and so I am making a plan to get that done.

I did a cursory search to see if maybe what's going on in my head is a side effect of the antibiotics that I am on. Didn't come up with anything conclusive. I really would like to feel some pain other than my lungs not working. Will try running now.

El Sicko--That's Me!

Even though I have been taking a cocktail of meds (antibiotics, Alka Seltzer plus, regular aspirin, bronchial inhaler), I am at best marginally better than I was a week ago, or at least it appears that way.

And then I don't do well on drugs anyway--I can't tell if I am so tired and spaced out because of them or because of whatever it is I have.

This is making me depressed. I feel like crap, I can't train (OK I tried for a few days and look where that got me), I have a race in a week, I can't train, I can't train, I have no energy.

This thing is sucking the life out of me. Even more fun is that when I don't train, I lose my appetite except for the sacred chicken soup, but I'm even getting tired of that.

I want my Mommy. Oh that's right, I don't have one anymore. I wish I could rent one that would come over and take care of me just for a day. That would be awesome.

THIS is what I call suffering.

Triple T Race Report

Pics are here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/crackheadfe/sets/72157618817588438/

I was stressing in the week leading up, not from training, not from packing, but from going continuously from waking up until falling asleep for a week. I need my down time first thing in the morning (about :45 to 1:00) and again in the evening (1:00-2:00). I didn't get in any stretching, which for me is quality "no think" time Monday-Wednesday, although I did get a massage which helped.

On Tuesday night, after getting in a pretty good brick workout, I woke up several times during the night coughing. A dry cough. I thought maybe I was just dehydrated, but the coughing continued off and on on Wednesday, and I began feeling, well exhausted, and barely ran in the afternoon.

Oh well, I'm doing this thing anyway, but Wednesday night I was so tired that I didn't even finish packing but instead went to sleep early, since I figured I'd have a few hours to get ready in the morning. I had made piles of crap all over the place (you know--the triathlon crap piles, right?), and it was just a matter of assembling everything into neat bags and boxes in the morning.

Jostein said he'd be ready to leave at 7AM on Thursday, but no way for me so I begged for like 9AM which is what we'd originally agreed to. I managed to wake up pretty early, and since I'm highly organized, I calculated that I'd be ready by about 7:30, but I guess he slept in which was fine as I used all available time to fine tune my packing.

I had a lot of crap, but a lot of it was provisions for the cabin, and it all fit nicely into Jostein's car, and we were on the road just a bit after 9AM. I couldn't even drive as I felt pretty bad by this point, but was still trying to be a trooper in supplementing the GPS and/or just paying attention to it. There were a few times where we missed turns because we were talking so much, but luckily, neither of us gets fazed by a little lostness, and besides we had nothing to do but get to Shawnee State Park, set up the cabin and rest up.

We stopped at a Taco Bell someplace for some lunch. I am not a big fan of the Bell, and don't think I've been to one in at least 20 years. But I do know it's possible to get something somewhat healthy at most any place, so I think I got some steak tacos that were actually just fine. And we had some brownies that I had made for the cabin.

There is more than one way to get to the park, and one or two of them involve dipping into Kentucky and then coming back into Ohio. Once again, we were talking and laughing so much we missed a few turns and made a few extra state line crossings, but it was cool because we got to see some really pretty bridges over the Ohio River.

We ended up coming into the park from the eastern way instead of the west which would have had us on a major part of the bike course for 3 out of 4 races. No worries--we'd probably drive the bike courses on Friday morning.

We unpacked everything, arriving sometime around 6PM or so local time (we went from CST to EST), headed to the Lodge for dinner, which was passable, with the highlight (for me anyway) being the shrimp/crab dip appetizer and the sweet potato fries. The meat and fish were overcooked, but hey, we're in the middle of nowhere, so couldn't complain too much!

It was very peaceful on Thursday night because hardly anyone is there in the park, and literally at night there was no noise or light, which was quite relaxing. They did upgrade the TV's to cable, but still, we didn't come here to watch TV!

Friday morning, Jostein wanted to see the bike courses (I'd done the races twice before), so we headed out and I navigated and he stowed away many details about hills and turns and such, and I took some pics along the way. We covered most of the bike courses except for one stretch of the 1/2 Ironman course on Sunday, so a good amount. Then we went back into Portsmouth to fetch the final groceries for the cabin, and I grabbed some Tylenol Sinus since I thought that was what I was suffering with.

When we got back to the park, we tested out the water in our wetsuits and then took them off to see how that was. The water was a nice temperature. Jostein wanted to see the run course, and asked if it was driveable, and I hadn't thought of that, but since they do drive trucks up there to fashion the aid stations and he has a 4WD, why not? So we drove up the run course, of course I took pics, and that was kind of neat to see it from that perspective.

Finally back to the cabin to unload more groceries, and we had a little time to relax before cabin mates would start arriving. Marty got in first, and I did some meal prep for the evening meal. I was beginning to feel sicker, but oh well, what am I going to do?

I had forewarned Jostein and Marty about taking a car down to the transition area, as you don't want to add any extra stress to your legs by riding up the 365' hill after every race.

I don't remember whether Rob and Julie came to the cabin or whether we met them down by the race, and the same for Shelley and Steve who didn't stay in the cabin but would join us for dinner.

Did the first race, the super sprint, about hyperventilated in the water--didn't use the wetsuit as it would be too time consuming, but the water did feel cold that first time in for a race, and my lungs didn't feel right, but got on my bike and did the big hill seated the entire time, and that was OK, but running felt like shit like I had only one lung. Oh well!

Got back to the cabin, Julie and Rob were definitely in, and then Erik found us and we were looking for Carl. I flagged him down riding around the cabin area, and we started working on dinner, Jostein manning the grill, and I did some table setup, we all had drinks and got to talking to one another and it was quite the jovial crowd.

Dinner cleanup happened, and then there was a lot more talking and stretching. Everyone was trying out my Theracane and The Stick, which are the bestest tools I have (in addition to my massage balls) for working on myself.

I don't remember when I got to sleep, but it was at a decent time. Except I started coughing a whole lot more during the night, and went out to sleep on the couch because I didn't want to wake everyone up with my coughing. The next morning Marty told me he came out into the living room to do some blogging and almost sat on top of me! I never saw or heard him.

Saturday morning was fun with everyone getting ready to race and being all pumped up. I was pumped--full of meds--since I had a sinus headache, cough, and alternating stuffy/runny nose, and I was dizzy to boot. But hey, I'm tough, I can manage, right?

So I do the first race, and I swam OK, biked OK but running felt like I had only 1 lung going, and I guess I had been stung by something on Saturday and my left ear had swelled up huge and was hard and itchy, so when I finished I headed to medical for the ear and for the wheezing in my chest.

Stupid EMT's said my chest sounded fine (uh, yeah maybe for a normal person try harder next time!), but they did give me something for the ear and said I should take some Benadryl and since this was my first sting of the year with a pretty good reaction, I noted to myself that I should not wait to get that EpiPen to carry with me in case of inability to breathe after a stinging incident.

Jostein was nice enough to try and locate me and was worried, but I told him I'd gone to medical and would be OK, or so I thought, so he drove me back up the hill. We left our bikes in transition.

In between races on Saturday, it was all about eating and resting. I drank 2 servings of Endurox R4, ate a Twinkie, a hardboiled egg and something else I don't remember. But I felt like crap. Still had the full sinus headache, wheezing, stuffy nose, sore throat and cough. Shelley kindly gave me a spare inhaler which seemed to help with my breathing somewhat. I laid down for about an hour, woke up and drank a can of Ultra Violence, took some Tylenol Sinus, shot up my nose with Nasonex, took a couple of hits of inhaler, drank some Alka Seltzer Cold Plus, and felt like I could at least start the next race.

Which I did, and it started with the bike, and I rode pretty good, or so a few people told me. I was still dizzy, but I've done an entire Ironman dizzy (Brazil in 2006), so I managed, and then the swim was fine for the first lap, but then I had a coughing fit and had to stand bolt upright in the water (it's shallow) and cough my head off for about a minute before getting back to business.

Once again, when I got to the run, it felt like I only had half of one lung, and it hurt like hell and I wanted to cry so badly and just stop, but I couldn't, you know? I didn't want to be the weak person who just gives up. So I finished, but not the way I wanted (everyone else in the cabin had done well) and headed back to see if I could live to fight another day.

We had a nice dinner, and as bad as I felt, I really enjoyed everyone's company as this is the stuff I live for, eh? But Shelley and Steve were missing. Jostein told me Shelley had felt sick and wasn't coming to dinner which bummed me out, but I was barely managing myself, so we all needed to forge on.

Trying to sleep Saturday night I was coughing so much, it was so painful and frequent, I once again went out onto the couch, and I was totally miserable. I don't think I slept more than 2 hours from all the coughing I did, and it was probably around 4AM that I decided I was too ill to start the race on Sunday. I wanted to cry so badly and be a baby and be taken care of, but that wouldn't be the right thing to do in front of 6 other people who needed to get their race day on, so I stuffed it, woke up with the rest of them and just got out of their way so they could get to doing what they needed to do.

In all the hustle, I forgot to eat anything and headed down to the race with everyone. I decided I would hang out and take pictures of everyone--it was the least I could do, right? I got nice shots of almost everyone going into the water and coming out, and then I decided I was going to be personal sherpa for Jostein, which worked out pretty well (or at least I think it did!).

But I also managed to cheer for everyone, was given THREE cowbells (MORE COWBELL!!!), and I did them proud, yelling my ass off even though my throat was raw and I was coughing like someone with emphysema! I just felt so bad physically that I had no time to feel sorry for myself for not being able to race that day.

Whenever I would see peeps from the cabin, the attention getting phras was "HEY FATTY!!!" We had pretty much settled on that on Friday night, and I heard that while everyone was out there they used it judiciously probably to the surprise (and maybe sometimes horror) of other athletes. It's just ironic since none of us are fat, but it sure gets people's attention!

All my cabin mates did well on the day, and well, I'm still sick. I went to the doctor yesterday, and when she asked what my symptoms are, I said:

• broadband headache. She pressed in my sinuses to see if they hurt and I about jumped off the table going "OUCH!!!"
• stuffy and runny nose
• sore throat
• non-productive cough
• diminished lung power
• wheezing
• stuffed up ears
  
• fatigue

The only thing I didn't have was a fever. I told her ideally I want antibiotics and a good inhaler. I got my wishes, and I also got my EpiPen.

Today, I'm 1 day into antibiotics and starting to feel better already. In fact, I did THREE workouts today--55' of strength, a 1:22 ride and a 25' run. ACTUALLY RUNNING!!! I needed to do it because my body actually NEEDS the movement--my lungs needed to be cleared out much like a race car needs to go fast, and I feel better for it. I will be cautious tomorrow and will either try running for 1:30 or else I'll put that off until Friday and go for another ride tomorrow. Swimming doesn't seem to be a good idea yet, in fact I can wait until next week, I'm a crappy swimmer anyway.

I still haven't had a good cry over missing Sunday's 1/2 Ironman, but I know it's coming--probably as soon as I feel a lot better. It will suck. But I like experiencing the emotions of all of this, and as weak as I may be right now, I know that I am pretty fucking strong to have made it through what I did get through last weekend, and I am looking forward to some great race performances.

I had so much fun supporting my friends on Sunday and seeing them do so well--if you can't be there for other athletes, who the hell cares how YOU do???

Triple T Update

Long story short: I wasn't feeling great when I left on Thursday--I was coughing fairly often--and it got worse on Friday to the point where I thought I had a sinus infection (may still have one) and got stung by something in my left ear which caused it to blow up like cauliflower, and then my lungs got gunked up with something.

On Saturday morning, I still managed to do the first Olympic distance race, faring OK on the swim and bike, but suffering on the run as I was wheezing. I checked into medical afterwards for the sting and wheezing, and they dug a stinger out of my ear (yes, I need to get a script for an Epipen) but gave me nothing for the wheezing.

I was very unsure whether I could or should start the second race on Saturday afternoon, but I got lucky in that Shelley gave me one of her inhalers, and I pumped myself full of caffeine, aspirin and antihistamines and set out for the second Olympic race, which starts with a bike ride.

I actually felt pretty good riding, and managed to pass a lot of people (the time trial start had almost all the teams starting ahead of me which meant I started way back) and had a better bike split on a tougher course than in the morning race, swam OK again, but felt like I was going to die on the run. I felt pretty awful finishing, and was getting stuffed up in my nose to boot.

Saturday night I slept extremely fitfully and couldn't stop coughing and didn't want to wake anyone else up in the cabin so I went out to sleep on the couch. I don't think I got much sleep that night, and it was about 4AM, I'm guessing, when I decided I was way too sick to start the 1/2 Ironman. Still, I got up with everyone else and decided I could at least cheer and take pictures.

In the midst of all the excitement, I forgot to eat breakfast, but I felt committed to getting pictures of everyone I knew (6 staying in the cabin plus maybe 5 other people I'm friends with) starting their swim, and then I wanted to get some shots leaving on the bike. I got pretty hungry and needed to go back to the cabin to get some food and drop off a friend's wetsuit (yes, I was playing Sherpa), and then I headed back down for bike duty.

I ended up showing the way for the turnaround where athletes could pick up fresh bike bottles and got a lot of pictures of my peeps, and then I stayed there for the run, getting a lot of pics and cheering for pretty much everyone in general, despite how crappy I felt.

So I did do the sprint and the 2 Olympics but not the 1/2 Ironman. My friend Julie grabbed me a finisher's shirt because she said I deserved it. As sick as I was, I had a great time, as I enjoy cheering for and helping out athletes as much as I enjoy racing myself.

I still haven't figured out my own race times, but will get to that sometime tomorrow after I pay a visit to my physician for some antibiotics and an Epipen, since this was my first sting of the year and already I had a pretty bad reaction, and last year I went from mild to extreme hives, so I think I'm in danger of a bad incident with a stinging insect!

I'll write more when I'm feeling a little better. For now, I need a ton of bed rest. Most of my friends did really well at the races, and I'm really happy for them. Me--I know when to kill it, and I had to do it this weekend or risk several weeks being out of commission. I have many other races coming up, and more fun, so we'll just chalk this one up to perhaps a little too much stress combined with heavy training.

Over and Out

I am going crazy trying to get all these things done before leaving tomorrow morning for Triple T. But I finished cooking last night, did my last ride yesterday (I ROCKED), last brick run, and this morning I'm going for my last swim and then later on a run.

The weather has turned into gorgeousness here, and the forecast for Triple T looks to be the same!!! I am SO happy!!!

There will be no Intertubes service over the weekend, and besides, I will not have time to do anything but eat, sleep and race, so wish me luck and I'll see you back here next week!

Enjoy your weekend, and here are a few pics so you can assess my race readiness. The pics are ironic since I haven't worn underwear for 3 weeks--I guess I'm commando now that it's racing season!