The Big Weekend

Well, I finished. In 16:41. Yes, 16 hours and 41 of moving. A long day. But I finished. And I couldn't be happier.

Part I - Pre Race

Ryan and I headed up to Lake Placid via a few necessary errands on Thursday. We made the drive in surprising time: only 8 hours, arriving in time to join my teammates for dinner. Team Z headquarters was located at the Rock and River Climbing Lodge in Keene, about 10 miles outside of Lake Placid. It was fantastic to be able to have run of the place, sort of our own Team Z oasis.

Anyway, we headed out to dinner where I was able to dine on fantastic pork tenderloin. Impressive. After a great meal and long drive to upstate NY, it didn't take long for either of us to crash. Ryan was originally going to camp on the opposite side of town, but with difficult logistics and such he wound up just crashing in my and Tes' room.

Friday morning we woke for a relaxing swim workout. Upon arriving in Lake Placid, the town was electric. Mirror Lake was filled with other swimmers. I swam one loop of the course and felt rather relaxed. No problem. Then it was time to take care of packet pick-up, lunch, and then meeting Mom. After all was said and done, Ryan and I headed back to the R & R for a good night's sleep.

Saturday was simple. Just a short swim, short bike, and short run, each lasting no more than 5 or 10 minutes. Fantastic. It was then time to dump off my gear and bike and head on back to the R & R for our pre-race feast. And it started to rain. I thought to myself, no problem; get the rain out of its system. However, the rain seemed endless. I worried about my bike and gear getting soaked, but then again, it was out of my control. Nothing was going to stop me. Deal with it and move on.

Friends and family were abound for our pre-race feast. Siri developed a beautiful slide show showing pictures from the past year which brought laughter and tears. And Ed gave his pre-race chat about the development of Team Z. He reflected on some of the moments this past year and began to shed some tears. I could not help but shed some tears myself. I was rather jittery, however. I mean, I loved having the support of friends, family, and Team Z there to support us, but I think there came a point where I just needed some quiet time to myself. I quickly retreated. My racing teammates and I shared a traditional pre-race brew alone, shared a few short stories, and then it was time for bed.

Part II - The Big Day

I awoke at 3am after a rather restless sleep. I had wild dreams about the Ironman. Yet, at the same time, it hadn't quite struck me yet what I was about to embark on. I got myself ready and soon we were out the door.

And it was still raining. All I could do was hope for the best. I couldn't control the weather. All I could control was how I reacted to the weather. I got body marked, checked my gear, put air in my tires, and headed to the Team Z tent to take a deep breath.

About 1/2 hour prior to the race I began to panic. My mom had yet to arrive and Ryan had yet to return from the R & R after an emergency retrieval of Justin's wetsuit. I was overcome with emotion. I mean, I knew my mom would arrive (which she did) and was glad Ryan was there to help and knew he was on his way back, but I simply could not help myself. I think what I was about to embark upon suddenly came crashing down on me at once. What? What? I need to get my wetsuit on? I need to cross the timing mat? I need to get in the water? I entered with Betsy and Brian and finally was able to tune everything else out and relax.

The canon went off and we were off. I felt surprisingly relaxed in the water. I had the usual bumping the water and was once pushed fully under (and managed to stop short of taking a big gulp of water), but it did not seem to bother me. I was in some strange zone. Tuning everything else out. I finished the two loops and quickly saw Ed, Kerri, and Matt (who was filming). I joked with Ed that I wasn't the last one out of the water and he replied, "No kidding! Look at your time!" I had expected to finish the swim in about 1:45, but managed to exit the water after 1:26. Wow. I was rather thrilled.

It's a little distance from the lake to the transition area. My wetsuit was peeled off and I went down the corral, excited to see Team Z supporters along the way. I saw Ryan and gave him a hug, just thrilled to see him. He laughed and told me to get on my way.

All right: T1. I changed clothes and shared some laughs with my teammates and prepped to head on the bike. The rain had stopped (although the roads were wet) and was on a high. I felt fantastic during the first bike loop. I flew down the hill into Keene and cruised along the Ausable River. I felt strong... Perhaps too strong. Along the river I was moving at about 20 mph, which in hindsight may have been my first mistake. But at the time, I was not thinking about that. I also was not thinking about the fact that I was primarily consuming water instead of Gatorade. The thought of drinking Gatorade simply did not appeal to me. I just wanted to drink cool clean fresh water. Water never tasted so good. Mistake #2.

Nevertheless, I cruised along. I caught up with Helen about 1/3 or so into the first loop. We were happy to see one another and began to sing songs, leapfrogging back and forth to keep each other company. As we climbed along Whiteface Mountain, we took pictures and had a great time. I once again saw Ed, Kerri, and Matt and Ed commented just how strong I looked. I felt strong. In fact, I almost felt invincible. Helen and I finished our first loop, stopping at special needs. Then we passed by Team Z HQ, through town, and I just felt alive.

However, my high quickly disappeared. Departing town felt lonely. Only 5 miles into the second loop. I pushed along, slowly. Helen was still strong, so she had left me. I simply felt alone. I pushed along, knowing the downhill into Keene would be coming along shortly, giving me new life. As the downhill arrived, I had a sense of relief. A chance to rest. I did not dive down the hill, allowing gravity to do all the work, only pedaling here and there to avoid cramping.

Luckily, the break did give me some new life. However, I shortly began feel down and out once again. I began to cry, wondering why I had decided to do this. I reminded myself why. Because I can. I stopped crying as quickly as I had started, not allowing myself to become disconnected. I saw Doug, Mary Lou, and Robin along the course, running. The company was much welcomed.

Departing Jay, heading into Wilmington, was tough. I saw Susan (and I do not remember who else) and was suffering. I mean, there was no way I was going to quit. I did not train all year, bring my mom and Ryan out there, and invest so much of my life to just quit the race. But I was struggling.

Approaching the out and back in Wilmington helped. It helped a lot. There was a huge Team Z crowd on the corner. I fed off their energy. Seeing other Team Zers on the out and back was fantastic. I no longer felt alone. I was so proud to be part of our team as strangers approached me with positive comments about our team. I stopped in the port-a-potty (I was having some "issues" to put it nicely) and came back to life. I also realized my need for Gatorade. (I had not had any since my initial bottle several hours earlier.) I got some new wind in my lungs. I exited the out and back once again seeing Team Z non-racers and supporters feeling a lot better.

I knew for sure at that point I'd finish the second loop. I enjoyed the scenery heading back toward Lake Placid. And then my bad right knee began to fail me. I was forced to pedal, pedal, pedal, then coast, coast, coast. I would coast until I lost momentum. Then I would repeat. Pedal, pedal, pedal.... coast, coast, coast. I saw some people cheering along the sidelines and asked the time. It was 3:58pm and I had 11 miles left in the loop. No problem. I'd make the cutoff.

I was thrilled to return into town and get off the bike. I have never wanted to get off my bike more. Siri quickly joined me in the transition area. We shared some quick bike stories and were ready to head out on the run. We had over 7 hours to do our marathon. I recalled that I once had to walk all but the first 3 miles of the New Mexico Marathon, due to knee injury (surprise, surprise) and that took me 6:40. I could do a marathon in under 7 hours. Even if I had to walk most the way.

I ran in short spurts, starting at 15 seconds each, working my way up to a minute. I'd run for short spurts, then walk. The out and back run course helped as I saw Team Zers every few minutes. I was near a man named Lyle, who was 75 (!)- the only one in his age group- who asked me three different times whether or not we'd finish the race. After the third time, his questioning began to mess with my head. I purposely distanced myself from him. I mean, naturally I was impressed that he was out there, but all the same I was not in the mood to deal with his questioning. I knew I had come this far. No way was I going to stop and not finish. No way.

Finishing my first loop was difficult. Several people were finishing and people along the sidelines said to me, "Way to finish strong". I shook my head and said I was only on my first loop. Many recoiled and said, "Oh, we'll still be out here." It was tough. Tough to head out on that second loop. I continued to scoot along. Near an aid station, I saw Susan along the side (who was on bike), with her back to the course. I called out to her and when she moved away, I saw Bill, sitting, wrapped in a space blanket. My heart began to sank. I had already guessed that Pam got pulled from the bike course. It just broke my heart. (I later saw Pam, who despite getting pulled from the bike course, ran anyway to support us, and heard that Bill cheered for finishers. I am not sure I could have done the same. I am very impressed by both of them.)

I continued along as the sun began to fade away. Soon it was dark. And almost scary. Some runners were spooked by the blackness and simply began to run out of fear. There were lights about every 1/2 mile, but for the most part, all I could see were the glowstick necklaces draped around racers' necks. And then the rain returned. It was dark. It was raining. And I could hear the finish line announcer. But I still had a good 6-8 miles to go. A man in a truck pulled up along side of me and offered me a long sleeved shirt. I gratefully accepted it. I was so cold and wet and miserable. Soon thereafter, I approached the aid station giving away space blankets. I wrapped myself in the blanket, using it as a rain jacket. I just wanted to get to the finish line.

Determination kept my feet moving forward. I was greeted by Pam who had amazing energy. I appreciated her enthusiasm, but was not much up for talking. In fact, I hadn't said much to other Team Zers for a while, just simply waving as they went by. I felt like I did not have the strength to speak. Later on, many of them commented that I seemed spacey and had concerns about my condition. As we came back into town, I saw Ari on his bike. I was grateful to see him, and in many ways impressed that he was out there on his bike, in the rain, just to see us. See if we were ok. I asked for him to spend some moments with me. He did, but then went on, as EB was behind me. He needed to check on her too.

I came back into town, and before heading back on the last short out and back, I was greeted by my mom and Ryan. My mom was thrilled to see me, excited like I've never seen her before. And Ryan decided to spend those last couple miles with me. He encouraged me to move on, got me to run a little (and he actually ran faster than me, wearing flip flops), and kept me moving.

Finishing the out and back, my mom joined us and the three of us entered the speedskating oval. The area was on fire. I had a sudden surge of energy and found myself running. The entire crowd was cheering. I crossed the finish line in 16:41. And could not have been happier.

I was greeted by Ed, who could not have been more proud. And Jill was working the finish line.

OK. So crossed the finish line, got my medal, took pictures, yadda, yadda, yadda. I wanted to go back and see the rest of the finishers come in. I didn't want to go medical. I didn't want to eat food. I wanted to go and watch the finish line. Oh no. Had to go to medical. Ryan and Jill walked me in. During the race, I actually gained weight. There was a 6 lb difference between my pre- and post-race weights. Now, part of it was due to differences in scales, part of it was due to wearing wet shoes (I initially weighed myself without shoes), but 6 pounds? Medical was a little concerned. I shook it off, simply wanting to get back outside and cheer people in. Ryan went to get me pizza. OK. Pizza sounded good. I sat down with Ed and Ryan and my mom (who left shortly thereafter) and ate pizza. I was a little chatterbox. In many ways, I acted like no big deal. I was more excited to hear about others than worry about my own self. I asked Ed how other Team Zers fared.

Midnight passed, and it was time to pack up and go home. I wanted a beer (but only drank about 3 sips) and Ryan drove us all home. By the time we got back to the R & R, all I wanted was a hot shower and to go to bed. I showered, dressed in my pajamas, and then began to shiver. Uncontrollably. I began to head toward my bed, thinking I'd simply warm up once I hit the covers. Tes would not let me. She insisted on drying my hair and Ryan insisted I put on fleece. I put on Tes' ski hat and wool socks. Ryan brought me some tea. I felt a little better, warming up. I talked with Ryan, but apparently was not making much sense. I talked like a child, in incomplete sentences. Ryan grew concerned. He went to get Pam. I seemed to be making sense to my own self. I just wanted to go to bed and was wondering what all the fuss was about. Pam took a quick look at me and said we were going to the ER. What? Why? I was tired. Very tired. Finally, I gave in and agreed to go. Did I have a choice? I think seeing Ryan's grave concern about me made me realize this was serious.

Ryan grabbed Susan (we were way low on gas) for a ride and the four of us were off. We got to the ER and Pam did most of the talking. I was too tired and out of it to say much. I still did not believe anything was wrong with me other than just pure exhaustion. The medical staff took my blood, hooked me up to an IV, and I was fast asleep.

I woke the next morning about 5:30 and then met up with Susan, Pam, and Ryan, who were camped out in another room. And then I was released.

Apparently I suffered from hyponatremia from the lack of Gatorade, which resulted in the weight gain and a potassium imbalance. Lesson learned there. I am glad that my friends took care of me.

I had not realized what I accomplished on Sunday until writing this. What a tough, yet amazing day. Will I ever do another? I don't know. Never say never. I am glad that I am now an Ironman finisher. No one can take that away from me. I am grateful that I got to share the experience with my team, one of my best friends, and my mom.

I wound up raising $600 for the American Heart Association. I am forever changed by the experiences I have had over the past year. I am glad I did it. And now it is time for rest.

One Week from Today

Wow. It's 7:15pm eastern time, and to just think that exactly one week from right now, I'll be in the midst of my first Ironman. I'll be somewhere along the run, likely experiencing the highest highs and the lowest lows of my life. Wondering why I am putting my body through arguably the toughest endurance event in existence, yet at the same time thriving off the energy of the day and amazed that I CAN put myself through the toughest endurance event in existence.
I leave on Thursday. Team Z and I are staying at the Rock and River Lodge, located in Keene, about 10 miles outside of Lake Placid. I'm glad we are staying close enough, yet far enough from the action. Knowing myself, I will have the nerves running wild upon my arrival. I almost will be surprised if I do NOT throw up beforehand. (I get pre-race butterflies very easily.)
Naturally I'm aware of every ache and pain my body is experiencing at the moment. I woke this past Thursday with knee pain (even at rest) in my bad right knee. ???? I have been giving it extra love and our unofficial Team Z physical therapist, Kerri, spent some time with me this morning. Seems I have a minor case of tendonitis. She showed me some emergency repairs and believes I'll get through the Ironman just fine (partly due to the therapy, partly due to adrenaline).
It's hard not to be emotional about the entire thing. Coach Ed shared his thoughts with us, sending a late night email last night. Siri shared hers after the bike ride this morning. And naturally, we've all been chatting amongst each other. We can see it in each other's eyes. The excitement. The nerves. I've shared something with 22 other people that I simply cannot describe. And it's not just the 22 others who are doing the Ironman with me next Sunday. It's our entire Team. We will paint Lake Placid in Team Z green.
For the longest time, I thought that after I completed the Ironman, I'd take a break from Team Z. Now granted, I'm looking forward to the opportunity to do some "other" things... hike, kayak, be a tourist in my own town, that sort of thing. I'll even perhaps be out past 10pm on a Saturday night? But, I won't be able to take a break from Team Z. They are my friends, my teammates, my confidants, my network. We've cried together, laughed together, seen each other at our worst and seen each other at our best.
One Week from Today.

Diamond in the Rough Duathlon

Ah yes, the Diamond in the Rough. Now, the race was intended to be a triathlon. Due to the recent flooding in the Susquehanna watershed (the swim is in the Susquehanna River), high bacteria levels in the water precluded the race director from allowing the swim. Disappointing, yes, but better than winding up with some awful disease, especially two weeks before the Ironman.
So, now the race was a duathlon. Erg. My motivation for signing up for the race was to practice open water swimming and my T1 (swim-to-bike transition). I was still there to have fun, though, and triathlon or duathlon, I was still with Team Z and ready for a great day.
As we hung out pre-race at our tent, I prepped for run #1. I looked at my running shoes and noted something was amiss. I wasn't quite awake yet as I stared at my shoes for a minute or two, perplexed. I had two right shoes with me. OK. Now what? I contemplated my options. Just walk the run portions in my Tevas? Forgo the race? It was suggested to borrow a pair from teammate Mere, as she's not able to run these days due to injury. (If anyone was disappointed about canceling the swim, it was she. She was all set to kick booty in a relay.)
Mere and I wear about the same shoe size. They seemed to be a wee bit big, but considering my alternatives, I figure I'd make do.
And we were off. The first run was fun and easy. It was billed as a 5K, but turned out to be more like 2.5 miles.
Then the bike. I had forgotten how much I enjoy the DITR bike course. It has some rolling hills, goes along the river, nice and scenic. I took it a little easy on the bike, being a "training" race and all (and knew I had a 40 mile bike ride scheduled for the following day). I felt fabulous on the bike. I decided early on to walk up the steep sections of the challenging climb at mile 21 to avoid thrashing my legs. Besides, I'm still learning how to handle my tri bike (one of the reasons why I'm using my road bike during the Ironman). I had a decent bike time considering the relaxed pace. I was about 5 minutes slower than my bike time from my time at this race last year, and believe I would have easily beaten it had I pushed a little harder and rode the hill, rather than walk it.
Finally, it was run #2. Using Mere's shoes began to haunt me a little. My legs felt great coming off the bike, but my feet were not happy. I had trouble running on the pavement, so instead I ran a bit in the grass. I caught up with my teammate Adam, suffering from knee pain. Heck, rather than risk my own injury, what better opportunity than to have fun with Adam?
Adam and I sang and danced with the race volunteers. We cheered on other racers. It was fabulous. Approaching the finish line, our teammate Jill caught up to us. The three of us joined hands to run across the finish line together.
My first Ironman is in less than two weeks. Note to self--- make sure I bring a right AND a left shoe.

Longest Training Weekend

Well, this weekend we headed out to the George Washington Forest to celebrate the Team Z birthday with our longest scheduled training weekend, and of course, a little bit of socializing. After all, aren't we a social club with a triathlon problem?

Our Team Z slogan is "You'll Never Know... Unless You Tri". Now, it may sound a little clichéd to some. But I think I realized the true meaning of it this weekend.

I arrived Saturday morning ready for our long run. On the schedule was 20 miles (or 3 hours, whichever came sooner). After some logistical confusion, we finally started running about 10am. Naturally, perhaps the hottest weekend thus far this year happened to coincide with our longest training weekend of the year. Oh yeah. The run was on a fire road of sorts. Natural ground is nice, but whew! It was hilly. I ran with Durst and Jenn Byl and in order to keep our heart rates down we had to walk up the hills. We ran for 2:45 and only managed to squeeze out 12 miles, indicative of the challenging terrain.

Afterwards was a much welcomed lunch, a visit from Potomac River Running, and our Team Z birthday party. I couldn't imbibe too much at the celebration, knowing a long day of biking was looming ahead of me. I had a beer then retired to my tent to read and fall asleep.

Sunday morning arrived quickly. I had a restless sleep, wildly filled with dreams. And now I had to bike 100+ miles.

The bike ride was along the "Sky-Mass loop", largely considered to be the most challenging bike ride in the area. It climbs Skyline Drive from start to mile 31, decends into the town of Luray, then climbs Massanutten Mountain before hitting rolling hills back in for a total 82 miles. We were going to do that, and then some.

I biked solo for the first 15 miles or so. Along the initial climb up Skyline Drive, I could hear "Charlie's Angels" (Alex, Siri, Helen, and Jess) singing as they rode to Dickie's Ridge. I was highly amused. We met up together at the Dickie's Ridge stop and biked together for the rest of the day.

It was a gorgeous day outside. The view along Skyline was fantastic. About 35 miles into the ride, we hit the top of Hogback Mountain, and were then completed with over 50% of the climbs for the day. Yippie. During the decent into Elkwallow, we had a near crash. Dive bomber Helen pointed to her right, and I thought she was pointing the turn into Elkwallow, when it was actually a deer preparing to cross the road. Jess and I were close behind Siri as she slowed down to try and avoid the deer. Luckily, Jess and I were able to avoid Siri and the deer. Otherwise, that could have been ugly. We want to sing "Doe, a Deer", not "Do a Deer".

Upon arrival in Elkwallow, Alex's bike saddle was increasingly giving him grief, inducing fears of his abilities to have children. Needless to say, he insisted we press on, as he awaited on the side of the road for Ed's arrival and repair assistance.

We continued on into Panarama and onto the decent into Luray. Siri pointed to the sign on the side of the road indicating the downhill for the next 4 miles. Yippie!! We had earned our break. Quickly after our decent, Ed pulled up with Alex. Alex had insisted upon completion of repairs that Ed deliver him to rejoin his "angels". That was one of the highlights of the day.

Shortly thereafter was the rest stop at 7-11. It was 11am, and 80 degrees, or so the sign said. Alex and Helen's rendition of "Hot Tires" was starting to ring true. It certainly felt much hotter! We filled up on Gatorade, water, potato chips and Nutter Butters. Yee ha.

Time to press on. We knew that the infamous Massanutten Mountain loomed ahead. Erg. Upon arrival at the base of the mountain, we knew it. Our speeds quickly slowed to 5-6 mph. Massanutten Mountain is known for bringing many a sad face to many cyclists, forcing them to walk. I decided in my mind to go as far as I could and then walk when I had to. Soon thereafter, Ed found us in his sag wagon. He said, "Go as far as you can and then when you're ready to stop, I'll bring you to the top. I've already brought 4 people up the mountain." Hmmm... peer pressure. Do I stop? I saw Ed again a short bit later and he basically said now or never. Either accept the offer or attempt the mountain. He said that he had only seen one person be successful thus far, and that was Schwartz, and she was suffering. Knowing Schwartz is a far better climber than me, I decided to bail. Quickly thereafter, Siri, Helen, and Jess joined me. But now what? Alex and Bill were on that mountain too. Was there any room for them? Without saying a word, they pressed on.

And then the Angels, Ed, and I witnessed perhaps one of the most inspirational moments of the day. Ed turned on the music and we cheered Alex and Bill up that damn mountain. It was such a victory at the top. Bill went on, electing to ride solo. The rest of us descended down the mountain (a scary descent, forcing one to go very slowly, which makes for zero reward for such a difficult climb).

After that, it seemed like the end of the loop was within reach. Just some rolling hills and we'd be home free. Nay nay. Rolling hills, yes. But not exactly home free. It was blaring hot outside and no forgiveness of shade. We passed landmarks we'd seen from the car the day before, but funny, they came slowly. I began to get some new life as we saw some teammates coming from the opposite direction, heading out for more mileage. For one, the company was welcome, and for two, it meant the end of the loop was near.

Finally, return to Elizabeth Furnace. OK. I looked around... fellow Ironmen-finishers-to-be were suffering. I heard Schwartz call out to John S (who did not want to go out again) to get back on the bike and do at least 100. I later heard that before that Schwartz went through racking her bike and getting changed into fresh clothes before forcing herself to go out again. The two of them did go out again and finish 100. My calves and left shoulder were very sore. I thought that taking some Advil would help. Part of me wanted to bail as well, but I knew I couldn't. I couldn't leave Charlie's Angels. They were suffering just as much as me and it simply would not be right to leave them.

The initial plan was to go out 5 miles and back. OK. Five miles out. That's doable. We made it to 5 and decided to go to the store (another 3.5 miles out). I was biking slowly, a little ways behind the group. The Advil was kicking in, which helped, but the heat and humidity was getting to be too much. Helen was slowing quite a bit too. We went on and made it to the store. All I wanted was a Coke. And believe me, it was the best. Coke never tasted so good.

OK. Time to head back. Again, slowly. Helen stopped briefly as this farm to watch the goats. She was amused by their little bells. It's easy to forget the simplicity of the country while on a bike, with the wind in the ears. But stopping for a moment, we were able to chuckle and watch the goats and gaze at the Massanutten Mountain in the background.

And soon we were back. I earned my spot in the Charlie's Angels photograph and went through my highly secret initiation process and received my token of rememberance. As hard of a day it was, at the same time, it was my easiest 100 miles on a bike. The accomplishments of the day took a while to sink in, and I realized that we are all simply human, yet amazing at the same time.

Eagleman 70.3

Wow. What a day. I think Eagleman was probably the highlight thus far of my year with Team Z. My finish time... nothing special (6:51). In fact, I think it was my best triathlon experience ever. After all, it was billed as a training day anyway. I just wanted to go out there, feel strong, and have some fun.

A group of us had spent the night at Holly's boss's house: a little ways away, but couldn't beat the offer. Besides, it was a slumber party of sorts. During the course of the evening, I heard of the sea nettles. Now, I naive as I was, I thought the sea nettle chatter over the email was some sort of Eagleman lore. However, some were stung by the things during their swim on Saturday. I grew a little apprehesive. I knew the Choptank River lived up to its name, but sea nettles too? Oh well, no sense in worrying now.

We woke around 4am, sharing our stories of restlessness over breakfast. Soon, we were off towards Cambridge.

The weather in the morning was rather chilly, unusually chilly for Eagleman. Eagleman is known for being windy and hot. Today, windy, yes, hot, not so much.

The whir in the transition as all set up was infectious. Yet, at the same time, it tends to make me a little unsettled in the nerves. I elected to tone out all the chatter over the loudspeaker and blare my Ipod to U2... "Beautiful Day" played, of course. (I think we all have come to associate U2 music with our long training rides.)

Adam and I headed over to the swim area to watch a few waves take off (my wave was not until later) and watch the pros come in. And soon it was time to get suited up and ready to race.

Maroon caps. Female: 30-34. And we were off. The swim started out fine, just slow relaxed strokes. I tuned everyone else out and took it easy. The plan for all of us doing Ironman was to keep the heart rate down in Zone 1 and just relax. Practice race disclipline.

Heading out on the swim was not too bad (other than feeling crushed quickly as the pink, then the "pumpkin", even a couple blue swim caps passed me). But then, turn around the sailboat, and wham! Suddenly I was getting abused by the Choptank's waves. On the swim back in, I had to stop twice, tread water, and take off my goggles to get my bearings. I kept telling myself to keep my cool, and for the most part, I think I stayed relaxed. Nevertheless, I was quite happy to exit the water.

Next up: bike. I was psyched to take the Red Baron out on her maiden race. This race course was made for my little Guru bike. I kept my heart rate low on the bike but felt very strong. I'm not a strong climber, but I can go in the flats. Eagleman had maybe a 50 feet elevation gain over the 56 miles. Maybe. It did get lonely out on the course, though. I kept looking for the Team Z green jerseys. Finally I passed Jess, sharing a few laughs. At about mile 35, Holly caught up to me. I think we were equally happy to see each other, so we wound up leapfrogging the rest of the bike route in, both looking strong, and passing several people along the way.

During the bike, I got a slight muscle cramp in my left calf. It faded away, but quickly came back with a vengeance on the run. I began to walk and stretch. I saw Ed about 2 miles in. He asked how my knee was doing (as I recently had problems) and happily, the knee was fine. It was my calf that was giving me trouble. He reminded me that Ironman, not Eagleman, is MY race, and just to walk as necessary.

Slowly, the calf began to loosen up. I saw Ed and John Mead at about mile 5, cheering away. And suddenly, I became simply giddy. I jumped in the air and laughed when I saw them. And then I saw fellow Team Z'er after another on the out and back run course. It gave me so much energy. I was able to run longer and longer stretches. With about 3.5 miles left, Helen caught up to me. And we decided to run in together.

Coming into the finish corral was simply amazing. Helen and I leaped high into the air as we saw others from our team. What a great finish to a fabulous race. And finishing that race made me feel ready as ever for Placid.

The Peak of Training

The peak is here. Over Memorial Day, the Team headed up to Lake Placid for a training weekend. Although the knees were bothering me a bit, and I had to take it a little easy, I still managed to run 5 miles and bike 86 miles, allowing me to get a good feel for the course. I cannot imagine a more beautiful Ironman course. Being up there, and hanging with my Team, made me all the more excited for come July 23rd.

This weekend is my 4th 1/2 Ironman: the Eagleman 70.3. It's on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. It'll be a training day, really. Just a long training day. It'll give us an opportunity to "practice" for Ironman. Me? I need to practice discipline. All too often during a race I get some sort of competitive mindset, and usually that results in bonking. Not fun.

Race updates should be available on www.ironmanlive.com (although the link for Eagleman is not there yet). Check me out this coming Sunday.

Century & Columbia Weekend

Wow. About two months away from the Ironman. This weekend was going to be very telling. A reality check. On the training schedule included a 100-mile bike ride (a century) and the Columbia olympic distance triathlon (1 mi swim, 40K bike, 10K run). Sure, I've done 100 miles on a bike before. Twice in fact. But neither time was exactly easy. At least I had several friends to ride along with, and the weather was perfect. An added bonus was the scenery. We rode on unfamiliar territory, and the ride was deemed as "relatively flat", but had some surprise climbs. At least the scenery (including the views along the Chesapeake Bay) and companionship was fantastic. The ride had two loops: a 60-miler, then a 40-miler. It was a little tough going out for that second loop, but with thoughts of the end goal, I pressed on. I did just fine, experimenting with Slimfast shake consumption for the added calories: one before the ride and one at the mid-ride break. Otherwise, it was gels, a Clif Bar, and those wonderful Clif Bloks (sort of endurance gummy bears- whoever came up with those is a genius).... and lots of Gatorade. At the 80 mile rest stop, I shopped around at the convenience store looking for something a little different to eat. I had a taste for Chex Mix, but alas none. I wound up getting some trail mix. Big mistake. My stomach began to give me serious grief at about the 85 mile point. With all the riding miles, my legs were demanding a lot from my body and hence, my stomach was having trouble with digestion. I was riding with Betsy and Talia at this point. They knew I was having some difficulties, but tried to keep quiet since the ride was not exactly easy for them either. I slowed down a bit, wanted to throw up (and tried to), and had tears running down my cheeks. My stomach truly hurt and was compounded by some knee pain. We reached the 90 mile point. "Only" 10 more miles to go. I told Talia that I wasn't sure I'd make it. I secretly hoped Coach Ed would pass by in the sag wagon. However, at the same time, I knew I'd kick myself if I didn't finish the ride. Luckily, at about the 95 mile point, the stomach pain began to subside. And finally, we reached the cars. Much thanks to Betsy and Talia for helping me through a tough day. And that was only Saturday. Another day of training faced me. A race no less. Shortly after the ride, Holly and I headed to race check-in (getting seriously lost along the way). We eventually made it, took care of business, and then it was time to head home to pack for the race, submit a report for the Navy, eat dinner, and get a good night's sleep. Race morning started earlier than usual. Although I crashed quickly Saturday night at 9pm, I was wide awake at about 2:30. My legs were a little tight, I had some pre-race anxiety, and was just plain old hungry. (I guess after burning 4179 calories during the bike ride and unable to consume much for dinner was telling me something.) So, got up, took a bath, tidied around the house a bit, and ate banana pancakes. Dozed off for a bit and realized it was time to head out to Centennial Park in Columbia, MD. I had no particular goal in mind, just to have fun. A training day. I watched the masters racers finish the swim (darn, missed the pros) and headed toward our Team Z tent to veg prior to my start. Nerves began to kick in as they called my wave. Nerves? A bit of a queasy stomach, a little pre-race apprehension. As soon as I jumped into the water, I should have known it wasn't my day. My right foot hit a rock, causing a little gash on the bottom. Ouch. Ok, time to swim. The water was a little murky but smelled (and tasted) clean. Swim, calm down, have fun. You know, every Tuesday and Thursday I swim more than a mile, but today, the mile swim was a little tough. I was glad to hear that others felt the same. I was glad to get out the water. Transition was fast, and soon I was on the bike. Quickly after my bike start, my knee problems from yesterday came back to haunt me. I thought, take it easy, relax, don't worry about people passing (after all, how many of them biked 100 miles the day before?) And then knowing this bike course, and how hilly it can be, I thought that the knee injury is no big thing now, but I do not want it to escalate into a major issue, forcing me to forgo Placid. About the same time, I saw my teammate Adam on the side of the road. I pulled over and asked him if he was all right. He was highly discouraged, contemplating not finishing and waiting for the SAG wagon. What? Why? Here, Adam was so very excited about this race, his first olympic distance triathlon. Turns out, during a flat tire change, he lost his skewer (the thing that holds the wheel to the frame) in the grass. I helped search for it briefly and told him to take the skewer from my bike. After all, it would be best if I just dropped out anyway. He was thankful, took my skewer, my spare tire tube, and a CO2 cartridge (maybe he had a premonition that he'd flat again.... which he did.... a total of 5 flat tires during the race). I waited for the SAG wagon along with another racer, who wound up stripping his pedal from his crank. Eventually, SAG arrived, making our group to a total of 6, each of us with our own stories of woe. I mean, it somewhat sucked to not finish. But overall, I feel great that I had the opportunity to help another teammate out. After all, what are teammates for? Besides, it forced me to be smart. After all, what is my end goal?

Yes, yes, yes, overdue for a post

Ok. Well, been terribly busy between the day job, the Navy job, and training itself that unfortunately my blogging has been neglected. But now that I'm into the peak of my training, it's only appropriate to drop a little line. Training has been going well, although April suffered a little as I was gone for over 2 weeks on my annual military training. I was able to stay a bit in shape throughout, running and biking on the stationary bike. However, those and not swimming showed. I'm back in action, but this coming weekend's workouts will really be telling. This Saturday I have a 100-mile bike ride followed by the Columbia Triathlon (1 mile swim, 40K bike, 10K run) on Sunday. All along it felt like the Ironman was eons away and now I cannot believe it's just over two months away. Wow. Columbia will be my first triathlon of the season. I rode the course yesterday. (It's about an hour away from here, in Maryland.) It has a few challenging hills, nothing too bad, although I may come to hate it after knocking out the 100-mile ride the day before. I'll let you know how it goes. Cheer for me from afar. Until then...

Ironman Training Has Begun

Ok, Ironman training has officially begun. Now, true, it's not as though I have been sitting on my ass in the months prior to this. I heard a triathlon coach once say that it takes 7 years to prepare for an Ironman. So, perhaps one could argue I've been prepping for the last 6-1/2 years for this July's Ironman. That would mean my training had begun in July 1999. That July I already had multiple marathons on my resume. However, swimming to me meant tooling around at the pool or beach. And biking, well, a 15-mile ride was plenty for me.

However, soon thereafter, I decided it was time to raise the bar. I had already proven to myself I could finish a marathon. Increasing the distance to ultra-marathons (beyond 26.2 miles) did not quite seem to make sense. After all, as I've mentioned, my knees were not built for running. (Side note: they've been holding out well as of late, thanks to proper training, proper nursing, and glycosamine.) I thought I would give triathlon a try.

My first triathlon was the Cajun Man triathlon in Lafayette, Louisiana. I was completely ill-prepared. I had friends who were triathletes, and had an idea of what to expect, but I certainly did not look the part. I had my old mountain bike, a swimsuit, and running shorts. I had never swum in open water. Karma was not on my side. My goggles broke off in the water during the swim and as well as my watchband. I was completely out of my element during the swim. I was spooked by placing my face in the water, so I wound up swimming on my back. It was a tough 600 yards, but I managed to finish the swim. The bike was 14 miles, shortened from 20 as it had been during previous years due to flooded roads. And then a 5K run.

I remember the post-race party, Cajun band and all, but I wasn't quite hooked on triathlon. Not yet. But it was a start.

I would have never guessed I would ever embark on finishing an Ironman. Yet here I am. Officially starting Ironman training.

Myrtle Beach Marathon

This past weekend I ventured down to Myrtle Beach (road trip!) with 3 of my Team Z teammates- Jen, Holly, & Susan. Susan & Jen planned to run the 1/2 marathon, whereas Holly and I planned for the full.

I was rather relaxed about the entire idea. Myrtle Beach was to be my 9th marathon. In many ways, I knew what I was getting into, yet on the other hand, it was sort of a new beginning. It was to be my first marathon giving heart rate monitor training a try.

To make a long story short, I was long skeptical of using a HRM in my training or racing. After a few heated debates with Coach Ed and a kick in the head recognizing that I seemed to routinely bonk during endurance events, I decided it was time to give the heart rate monitor a try.

Regardless, I approached Myrtle Beach as sort of a long training run in pursuit of the grand prize this summer. I wanted to see how the heart rate monitor would work for me, especially since I knew my marathon preps were not quite textbook, as my longest training run was only 16 miles.

Upon our arrival in Myrtle Beach, we were giddy with a sort of cabin fever after the long drive. We zipped around the race expo, taking full advantage of the free local microbrew to calm the nerves. Did some shopping, took advantage of the pasta dinner, and soon it was time to crash for the night.

Race day started at 4:00 in anticipation of 6:30 start.

Turned out to be an absolutely perfect race day: 50 degrees, no rain despite the forecast, and little wind. I bid temporary farewell to Holly, Jen, and Susan, and was on my way. I kept a comfortable 10:00 minute/mile pace, staying in zone on my heart rate monitor. The course was pleasant, flat, and fast, along Ocean Blvd.

I faded out about mile 16, where my lack of training began to show. I elected to take it easy for a while, walking a bit and chatting with some fellow runners. I played cat & mouse with a fellow TriCAT (who recognized me from my TriCAT shirt), chatted up with an Ironman Florida finisher, and gave high 5s to spectators along the course.

The rest paid off. My second wind came about mile 19. I knew I wanted to break 5 hours and possibly finish the day with my second best marathon time ever. As fellow runners hit the notorious "wall", I began to run almost as though my day had just started. As I approached the finish line, my eyes welled up as I saw Jen, Holly, and Susan there to greet me at the finish line.

And so, I finished in 4:52 by my watch. (Chip time was 4:54.... I stopped the watch for a much needed pee break at mile 9.) And I succeeded by beating my previous 2nd best time of 4:55 from Marine Corps Marathon a few years back. (Best time is 4:12 at Vermont in 2004, where I had an amazing 1/2 marathon split time but wound up paying for it by nearly crawling to the finish.)

I loved traveling with Holly, Jen, and Susan to race. All 4 of us had a great race. What I love about our team is the fact that we share each others' victories. And from afar, we cheered on our teammates that elected to race locally in the GW Birthday Marathon.

So, now what? My race strategy has paid off by rewarding me with a speedy recovery. Nevertheless, giving the legs (and mind) a break this week before my training season truly starts next week.

New Year....

All right. So, recovery from Miami Man is past, holidays have past, it's time to get back into action.

Next up: Myrtle Beach Marathon on Feb 18th. Wow. My 9th marathon. Sounds a little crazy. And my 9th State.... So far (in order): Chicago, Marine Corps (DC), Mardi Gras (New Orleans), Shamrock (Virginia Beach), Disney, New Mexico, Vermont, and Marathon in the Parks (MD). I am not sure how much longer I can hold out with marathoning though; the knees are not as forgiving as they used to be. I guess I need to get through this go-around, and through Ironman, and after that it will be time for a knee break.

This marathon is not so much of a focus as a "training run". Somewhat psychotic to consider a marathon a "training run", but I guess nothing is quite sane when it comes to Ironman.

I'm getting re-vitalized with fundraising for the American Heart Association too. Friday February 3rd is National Wear Red Day. Wear red to support the fight against heart disease and help raise awareness of heart disease and women.



Thanks again for all of your support.---

Miami Man Race Report

Time to jet set away for my third Half Iron distance triathlon. Destination: Miami.... And even without the race, how fun to skip town to warm Southern Florida with 20 of my friends!

I was rather motivated going into the race. By now I had proven to myself that I could finish an endurance triathlon and was looking to up the ante and see if I could work toward improving my performance. I was disciplined myself by eating right, consuming plenty of water, and avoiding alcohol. Managed to watch the entire LSU game on Saturday (GEAUX TIGERS) versus Alabama without a single beer. Slept well and was ready to race come Sunday morning.

My coach, Ed, noted that I looked rather nervous as we approached the start line. I kept insisting I was fine, or perhaps I was telling myself that I was fine. I guess a few butterflies in the stomach never hurt. Wave after wave began until it was my turn to enter the water.

We could not have asked for better swim conditions. The water was clear, a perfect temperature, and as calm as a pool. I swam with ease and comfort. Very nice.

Upon exiting the lake, it was about a 1/4 mile hike to transition. I peeled off the wetsuit, put on the bike helmet, and was on my way.

The bike course was quite lonely. And not exactly scenic. It was distressing to see palm trees laying about as a result of Hurricane Wilma. The winds picked up as the race went on as well. It was almost a struggle to keep the bike erect. The bike course had two loops. Some of my non-racing teammates were hanging near the start of the second loop, which was a boost. Soon thereafter, I encountered my teammate Holly (who has been a great training partner this season). She and I were equally thrilled to see one another and chased each other back and forth for the duration of the second loop. Even better was when I ran out of fluids with 10 miles left on the bike and she managed to come to my rescue.

Coming into transition, I was again greeted by fellow teammates and Coach Ed. It was time to set off on the run. Having run out of fluids and seeing my heart rate sky rocket, I elected to play it safe. It was my first race using my heart rate monitor and I decided to allow it to dictate my speed. That meant walking. I'd run a little, then walk to bring the heart rate down.

The run meandered in and out of the zoo. It made for great opportunities to see fellow teammates (both racing and spectating). Our team looked so strong; it motivated me. I ran with teammate Jim for about 4 miles. He was taking it easy as he's planning on doing the Philly Marathon this coming weekend. (And I thought I was a bit of a nut!) Regardless, it was fantastic to have a running partner for a while through my 2nd loop in the zoo.

As the run progressed, I felt better and managed to kick it in a bit at the end, resulting in a negative split in the run. I was a little extra motivated knowing I wanted to get a personal best.

I wound up finishing the race in 6:27, missing a personal best by 3 minutes. I was rather down and out about it at first, all the time recognizing that finishing a 1/2 Ironman in itself is huge. And the race conditions weren't exactly favorable.

What lifted my spirits more and more was sitting there along the finish line, cheering the rest of my teammates in. Their drive was inspiring. There was Helen, who suffered through 4 flats on the bike course and never gave up, even though it would have been very easy to forgo the run. There was Durst, who was suffering through knee pain as I did during my first 1/2 Ironman, but found something deep inside to finish the race anyway. There was Siri, who I swear could be smiling through simultaneous flood, fire, and an endurance triathlon. And there was Mead... He was equally cranky as I as he was less than satisfied with his run. And as we talked I think we both realized that how ridiculous we sounded. How many people can say they can successfully complete a 1/2 Ironman distance triathlon? So, live and learn, and look forward to the next race...

One thing I realized more than anything this weekend was the power of our team. Our energy at the finish line was infectious. I think Terry said it best when he noted that traditionally triathlon is an individual sport, yet Team Z manages to do it as a team. I'm already looking forward to next race season.

Towards Miami

Wow, I'm a little overdue since my last post. I'm trying to stay afloat between the day job, the Navy job, and training. I'm hanging in there.

Next race is Miami Man, 14 November. Guess where? Miami? It's a 1/2 Ironman (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run). My goal is somewhere between 5:30 and 6 hours. Think I can do it?

The Lums Pond Triathlon

Yippie! Race weekend. This time Team Z and I headed up to Bear, Delaware for the Lums Pond Triathlon. It was a sprint distance... just a teaser race.

Anyway, we made the trek up there on Saturday to camp for the night and have some socializing and pre-race chatter. The mosquitos and heat were in full force but it did not dampen our spirits too much. The adrenaline in anticipation of a race was high.

With all the factors, none of us slept too much. We were up bright and early to chow on some bananas, bagels, and oatmeal... key pre-race food. And then it was off to the race.

Now, the swim was a little interesting. To say the water was murky would be an understatement. The water was 87 degrees and it was impossible to hands in front of the race. Who knows what was in that water. At least nothing came out and attacked me, other than the occasional expected bump from a fellow triathlete.

The bike course was flat and fast. The scenery consisted of farm fields and wetlands. Not much to be expected of middle-of-nowhere Delaware. But it was hot out there. Fluid intake was absolute key. The bike was a personal success.

And lastly, the run. The 5K run was primarily in the shade. Thank goodness. The out-and-back course helped to see fellow teammates out on the course to cheer one another on. Then on top of it, other non-racing teammates were along the course cheering as loud as they possibly could. One had a cowbell. The superfans cheered us all in and I wound up with my fastest 5K time in a triathlon, only to be bested by two other races which didn't have a swim or a bike beforehand. Talk about a benchmark.

Post race, we gathered back to share our stories of success, chow on leftovers, and prepare to head home. I cannot reiterate enough how much I love training and racing with my teammates.

And check out the links to the right. In conjunction with Ironman, I'm fundraising for the American Heart Association's Go Red for Women Campaign to stop heart disease. Thank you in advance.

Motivated Already....

Tonight a few of us gathered... some from my training team (TeamZ) and some from my triathlon club (TriCATs). We all shared one thing in common: we're all doing the Ironman in Lake Placid next year.

After a beer at happy hour (yes, even though we train hard, a beer comes in handy every now and then), Coach Ed invited us over to watch his DVD from this past Ironman (just a couple of weeks ago) up in Lake Placid. A few of my teammates traveled up there to cheer on the participants and also register in person for next year's race. The DVD made us all choke up a bit and shed a tear. It is simply inspiring to watch people place mind over matter to complete such a tough event. It is especially inspiring to watch the back-of-the-packers... the final swim finisher (who had an arm injury) and those finishing the race as the midnight cutoff approaches.

My mom registered for her hotel room already and is probably almost as excited about the race as I am.

For now, our team is not quite doing Ironman-level training. Our focus for the moment is a half-Ironman scheduled for mid-November in Miami. And there's some other races here and there leading up to that. This weekend a bunch of us are doing a sprint (the shortest triathlon distance) up in Lums Pond, Delaware.

Until my race report.....

Well... I'm signed up now

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would commit myself toward the Ironman triathlon. Several people I've met have associated the Ironman with triathlon and automatically think Hawaii. And so when I tell people I'm doing the Ironman next year, they tend to think I am Hawaii bound. No, not quite.

On July 23, 2006, I will participate in Ironman USA with the beautiful Adirondack Mountains as a backdrop in Lake Placid, NY. It was the first Ironman brought to the continental US. Hence the name.

Come join me along for the ride. It will have its ups and downs, like the hills I bike ride through Virginia. This blog will keep you up to date as I train with my teammates from TeamZ, our races, our adventures in training, and perhaps a few other tidbits.