The Power of Focus

Sort of laughable considering I haven’t been focused enough to sit down and actually write a post lately, right?  Well…  I’ve found myself busier in the past month than I ever expected to be.  So much going on lately…  and I seem to spending every free minute working on my core stability.

WAIT!  Go back…  read the previous sentence again.  Did I say core STRENGTH????  Did I????

NO!

Biggest Take Home Message at Pursuit Athletic Performance – Core STRENGTH does NOT equal Core STABILITY.  Oh, I already HAD a strong core.  Trainer John pointed that out on more than one occasion (I think there’s a special place for such comments reserved in the minds of women who have been through pregnancy and have experienced what THAT can do to your abdominal wall).  So, why was I having so many issues when such an important part of my body was SO strong?

WHY?

Because, #1) Despite strength, I wasn’t STABLE; and #2) Like most, my approach to “core work” was, for the most part, focused on my abdominals (which I now realize means it wasn’t really focused at all).  My glutes were SO weak that they were almost non-existent (Wait.  No…  that was the dream where I had Gisele’s body, Brooklyn Decker’s face and Taylor Swift’s talent… scratch that part about my glutes being non-existent).  My glutes were weak, but rather than non-existent, my rear end was reaching epic proportions and practically worthy of its own zip code.  My lats – forget it.  They were there, but they didn’t know what the heck they were supposed to be doing.  I can’t blame them – they’ve spent the past year spectating.  I gave them way too much time off and they got lazy.  Believe me – now that I’ve asked them to get back in the game they are pissed at me.  But Coach Al at Pursuit Athletic Performance tells me, “the lats are the second most important muscle in the body,” and since I’ve deemed Al to be a gifted genius, they MUST be important.  So it shouldn’t come as any surprise that during my most recent visit to see him, I spent the majority of two hours focused (there’s that word again) on my back.  Lats, rhomboids, breaking up the little love affair my upper traps had going on with my ears…  I think I walked out of there two inches taller.

The great news – I am OUT of Run Jail!  I am starting the Return to Running program today (“Run Probation,” as JW says).  Slow and steady, low volume at first.  But I still have my work cut out for me.  Especially with regard to swimming – as if I didn’t already have enough work to do in that area as it was.  The good news is that now, once again, I know HOW my body is moving and WHY it’s wrong, and I know what I need to do to begin to correct it.  Having a set of specific exercises to perform that target MY areas of weakness and instability is hugely motivating – this is not your general circuit training routine pulled from some women’s fitness magazine next to the “Top Ten Signs He’s Cheating on You,” or “Your Best Jeans Yet!” article.  Just like I did while I was in Run Jail, I have to start out small…  baby steps to build the muscle memory I need to get my body moving in the right way before I can get back in the pool.

Armed with all of this new knowledge, I have the Power of Focus…

Flip a switch, and you can light up a room.  But FOCUS light….   and you can cut through metal.

OPERATION: Rebuild

It all started with one of JW’s fairly frequent and typical, “Would you think I was crazy if…. ” e-mails.  Little did I know that this time, the “dot dot dot…  ” would mean significant changes in MY life as well.

As usual, he had been on the Endurance Nation message boards and had come across something that had piqued his interest.  There was a new post by Linda Patch describing her experience with run gait analysis.  I have to admit, I was initially skeptical and didn’t take the time to read the post and watch the video JW had forwarded.  Sure, I skimmed – and formed my own poorly thought-out response with a few pre-conceived ideas and a couple of somewhat intelligent sounding things I could muster up from my days as an occupational therapist – but JW, as JW often does, persisted.  I finally (maybe somewhat begrudgingly) took the time to sit down and read Linda’s post a little more thoroughly…  and THEN I watched her video analysis.

THAT was when it dawned on me.

The MAGIC PELVIS!!!  HOW could I have forgotten about the MAGIC PELVIS?!?!

It was drilled into my brain for over two years while I was in therapy school – if the pelvis is off, everything is off.  Start with the pelvis.  The pelvis is *magic!*  When I moved to NYC and my work became more and more focused on wheelchair seating and positioning (which isn’t all that unlike bike positioning, actually), I ALWAYS started by examining the position of my patient’s pelvis.  Watching Linda’s video, hearing the commentary, seeing the angles drawn on the screen that indicated her pelvis wasn’t in the most optimal, neutral position…  it all came back to me and I realized where I’ve been going wrong these many, many months.

I think I called JW that instant and said, “I WANT TO DO THIS!”  Five minutes later I was on the phone, scheduling an analysis for both JW and myself (now he’s going to get all, “I told you so,” on me, but really.  Any woman out there can sympathize with my position.  Christmas preparation – gifts for kids, relatives, teachers, travel prep, parties, baking, cards – was in full swing AND I was in the middle of a multitude of tasks to prepare for the arrival of our au pair.  There was no way I slowing down to watch some video JW had sent me.  And that’s the honest truth.  Except for the part about baking and cards.).

So – to get on with the important part of the story, I had my run analysis with Coach Al and Dr. Strecker of Pursuit Athletic Performance (PAP) a week ago today.  I walked in the door knowing I was a broken mess.  I knew if I kept trying, I’d eventually find SOMEONE who could help me figure out how to fix myself.  After trying just about everything I could possibly think of to rehabilitate and/or reduce the ongoing mid-back, shoulder and neck problems I was having, Linda’s Endurance Nation post made me realize it was my movement that was dysfunctional.  Figuring out HOW and WHY my movement was dysfunctional was where PAP enters the picture.  After three and a half hours of the most thorough (and somewhat embarrassing…  if you’re comfortable being videotaped in nothing but tight shorts and a sports bra right after holiday indulgence, let me know) evaluation of how I move (and don’t move), The Doc and The Coach had me figured out and gave me possibly the most eye-opening experience I’ve EVER had.  Sure, sure, I know my glutes are weak and my pelvis is anteriorly rotated.  BUT!  To see it on video…  to have the visual of my hip dropping, my lats taking the day off while my traps work overtime, and to combine that with the knowledge from the Functional Movement Screen – NOW my eyes are wide open.

I was immediately sentenced to at least four weeks of Run AND Swim Jail.

I got to work on my exercise program THAT NIGHT and I’m feeling significant changes already – after just one week.  My upper body and my lower body are finally starting to realize that things tend to go much better if they actually work together.  My triceps and hamstrings are breathing a sigh of relief now that I’ve taken a little of the load off of them.  And every part of my body that is attached to my newly stretched and opened collarbone is aching in that deep, satisfying sort of way.  Wow.

I can’t imagine a better way to start the new year than to tear myself down, rebuild, and come back better than ever.  Thanks, JW, for asking me if I’d think you were crazy once again….

You Have to WANT IT

I’m slowly but surely clawing my way out of the pile of laundry covered in Pixie Dust from our trip to Disney World and that other pile hidden in my closet that I’m now referring to as The Gifts of Christmas That Presently Need Wrapping (I’m hoping if I ignore that pile long enough the Magic of Christmas will come along and take care of them for me…  the laundry, on the other hand…  well…  I know better.  Two kids who continue to lack the eye-hand coordination to successfully place food in their mouths combined with two adults who simultaneously train for Ironman accumulates more dirty laundry than I ever bargained for – with the added bonus that my house smells like a locker room.  Yaaaaay!).

So what do I, in my infinite wisdom, choose to do when faced all of those piles?  Pause for a moment and blog, of course!

I think I may have already mentioned that a while back I decided to add TRX to my strength training routine.  Enter Trainer John.  Leave it to this guy to find a new way to make me limp on a weekly basis (and I mean that in the most complimentary way possible – as in, he knows his stuff and he doesn’t let me slack off just because I had a little hour long run/bike workout earlier that day.  No, no.  I’m there to WORK!).  Luckily for me his reputation preceded him and it was 100% accurate – he has a habit of being Mr. Motivation.  Most recently, we were chatting (well – he was chatting.  I was huffing, puffing, and spitting out random sentences between reps) and I mentioned that last year before IM Louisville, I didn’t tell anyone – ANYONE – that I was going to do an Ironman for the looooooongest time.

WHY?

Because I knew they’d all tell me I was crazy – except for my one non-triathlete/honorary sister/friend – I did tell her.  But only because she already knew I was crazy and her response was little more than an eye-roll and a shake of her head at learning how far gone I actually was.  She, being one of my few non-triathlete friends, didn’t grasp the full meaning of what I was telling her – which was precisely why she was “safe” to tell.  Way back then, I knew one – yes, ONE – person that had actually DONE an Ironman (and lived to tell the tale…  remember, this was back when Ironman was still mysterious and possibly even dangerous in my mind).  I didn’t really know what I was getting myself into, but I did know everyone else – my triathlete friends in particular – would know what I had signed up for, what it meant…  and they would likely have something to say about it.

And quite frankly, I didn’t want to hear it.

I didn’t want to be told that I was too inexperienced.  Too slow.  Too busy with young children.  That I lacked the mental stability (ha!) necessary to overcome the highs and lows of Ironman training and, in particular, race day.  I didn’t want to pretend to know the answers to the questions that would inevitably come:  How are you going to handle Two-a-Days?  Who will watch your kids when you’re doing your Race Rehearsals?  Do you realize what a HUGE time commitment Ironman training is?  WHAT ABOUT YOUR KIDS?!?!  I just didn’t want to hear it.  And so I didn’t tell anyone.  If only they knew…  if only they REALLY knew….  about the long training days that began before 5a.m., the accumulated fatigue, the sudden onset of training-related Restless Leg Syndrome that kept me up at night…  the insatiable appetite, the MOUNTAINS of laundry, the Making of the Bottles (oh how I HATE the Making of the Bottles)…  and the repeatedly subluxated rib that I stupidly refused to rest and eventually resulted in bone spurs and a herniated disc in my cervical spine.  If only they knew.

So Trainer John says to me, “If you knew everyone would think you were crazy, then what made you do it?”

Hmmm.

That question has been bugging me since he asked.  I’m still not sure what the “right” answer is.  All I can say is, I wanted it.  When it comes to Ironman, you have to WANT it.  I’m of the opinion that no one can motivate you, encourage you, PUSH you to do it.  It IS too big of a commitment.  Did I have a deep, burning desire to do an Ironman?  No.  It wasn’t exactly on my To Do List.  As a matter of fact, there are a lot of things that are still on that list that I haven’t done – things that I sort of sat around and thought, “you know, one day I might like to __________.”  I’m doubtful that I ever would have actually taken the first step toward doing a lot of those things – but now, because I’ve done an Ironman (and I’m on my way toward #2), apparently I’m superhuman because I feel like I could tackle anything.  No, I didn’t necessarily plan to do an Ironman, but once I was registered, I did WANT it.  I wasn’t going to let anything get in my way.  Not injuries, not accidents, not trips to the ER and concussions.  Nothing.  No, I wasn’t the most experienced and I certainly wasn’t the fastest, but I DID finish and nothing – not even frequent stops in the name of staying hydrated – got in my way.

And no, I’m not telling what’s on my To Do List!

Pneumonia

No, no…  not me.  JT.  JT has pneumonia.  Or had pneumonia.  He’s currently on Day Five of his antibiotic and back to his normal five year old self and looking forward to Trick or Treating tomorrow and telling me he’s “bored” sitting inside “doing nothing (I will NOT allow him outside for fear of a relapse!  Especially considering the random snowfall and unseasonably cold weather we’re having!  NO!  You WILL stay inside and sit on the couch and watch TV!!!).”  It’s amazing how quickly kids can bounce back and resume normal life.  I’ve taken care of two sick kids for the past two weeks, and though I’ve managed to stay 100% healthy throughout the ordeal, I’M the one left trying to figure out how to get back into the day to day swing of things.

I like structure.  I LOVE routine.  I hate chaos.  The past two weeks, to me, have been chaos.  Somehow, this has resulted in workouts that have been lackluster at best.  I think that’s the hardest part of training for me – being a mom.  I have yet to find the Steel Will and Emotional Stamina that working out while my mind is on my kids requires.  My heart just isn’t in it.  It’s not even Mom Guilt….  it’s just….  that feeling of being mentally drained.  When everything is going as it should and there is order to my world, I love to put my head down and work.  For me, order in my life is key to good workouts.  I admit – I LIKE having control.  When I don’t – or can’t – have control, it’s mentally exhausting for me.  And right now, I am exhausted.  It’s amazing how mental translates to physical – in both a positive and negative way.  If the mental game is strong during training and racing, the performance is strong.  If the mental game is lacking, so is the performance (yeah I know – not exactly a newsflash!).  Wow, is my mental game lacking at the moment!

I know the Triathlete’s Mantra:  Control the things you can and let go of the things you can’t.

So… the past few days I’ve just had to let go.  There’s no shame in missing a few workouts in the off-season (is there?).  I need to take care of my boys AND myself and get excited about what the future holds.

AND I am SO super excited about what the future holds!  Why?  Because I’ve managed to bring structure and order to it!  Truth be told, I had my reservations regarding how JW and I would be able to swing another season of training for the same A Race.  Having a friend live with us and help out this past season was the one and only way it was able to work, and after looking at the situation from every possible angle, I figured the best thing to do was to repeat the situation.  But to do that, I’d have to have a complete stranger come live in my house (ummm…  AND be responsible for my children).  After a lot of thought and consideration, we decided to take the advice of our friends and look into a cultural exchange program – i.e., an au pair (so now it’s a complete stranger from a different country who is not a native speaker of English – which is tricky because there are times that I’m not so sure that our 3 year old speaks English.  And occasionally JW isn’t quite up to par, either…  ).  I spent the better part of the two weeks that the boys were sick on my computer looking through profiles for the perfect match (it cracked me up when a friend said it sounded a lot like on-line dating).  While there’s no such thing as “perfect,” per se, I AM very excited about finding the girl who will be coming to live with us this January, and I’m finding myself more and more excited about sharing our world with her.  I would have said, “our culture,” but I just don’t think of Americans as having a “culture.”  We have some unique traditions, sure, but culture???  It just sounds too….  cultured for my way of life!  I’m just your average, normal, middle class American girl born and raised in rural PA and adjusting to life outside of NYC – yes, still adjusting.  After….  ten years?  I’ve lived here TEN years?????  Wow…  where did THAT time go?  Anyway, I think the good news is that she’ll see the best of both American worlds while living with us – city/suburban life in NYC and NJ, and rural/country life when we spend our summer weekends in PA.

And of course we have groundhogs.  Apparently groundhogs (and raccoons!) are interesting creatures in parts of the world where they don’t exist (well of course they are!  If a kangaroo hopped through my backyard right now, the smile on my face wouldn’t fade for weeks!).

Tomorrow is Monday – a chance to start fresh and get back into the regular routine – and I am SO looking forward to it.

Hey! Check it out! A NEW post!

Wow!  Has it really been over a month since I’ve updated this thing???  Geez!  You’d think I was busy training for an Ironman or something!   (I’m rolling my eyes at that comment, too…  ).

The past month has more or less been an experiment in How To Fix My Neck and Shoulder.  It’s been a calendar full of weekly visits for chiropractic adjustments, ART, massage therapy, physical therapy, some yoga and a little bit of TRX to get that whole business strengthened up and back in shape.  I’m religiously stretching and strengthening at home.  And just so there are no excuses, my foam roller and Theraball have taken up permanent residence in my living room (but then, there are generally no less than two bikes living in my dining room.  Along with a bike stand.  And pump.  Normal people don’t keep their bikes in their dining room, am I right?  I forget what it’s like to be “normal.”).

NO SWIMMING, though.  None.  Which figures, because that’s where I need the most work.  Sure, sure, there’s time for that, but what I’m afraid of is the fact that I still have “bad” neck/shoulder days.  I’m in a cycle of three or four really good days in a row followed by three or four bad days in a row.  On the good days, I’m hungry to hit the pool and swim laps like nobody’s business…  on the bad days, I spend entirely too much time self-diagnosing and searching for the best local shoulder docs (and spinal docs, and neuro docs….  maybe what I really need is a shrink!).  So I called in a favor from a friend and super good guy, who happens to be a kick-ass P.T. who knows everyone who’s anyone in the local medical community.  I WILL get this figured out and I will NOT be dealing with any neck and shoulder b.s. for another season!

(If you’re imagining me pounding my fist to the counter in finality after that last statement, you pretty much have it right.  Two C-sections with eight Advils, dammit!  I DO have a high pain tolerance!)

OK!  On that note! I have a 10k coming up!  I’m SO excited for this race.  The cool thing about being new to all of this is that every race is an opportunity to PR.  This particular race is small, and I placed 3rd in my age group last year.  I don’t anticipate placing again this year (because – as we all know – you just never know who’ll decide to show up), but I DO want that PR!!!

And something I’ve been meaning to document here for the past two months – this really seems like it should be a separate post, but what the heck.  I’m here and at the moment I’m lazy, so this will all be condensed into one post so that in the future when I attempt to reference it, I’ll never be able to find it.  There.  I’ve been warned.  That said, now that I’ve really had some time to reflect, I need to make note of what worked and what didn’t at IMKY.

IMKY was more or less a “practice run” in the end.  First Ironman, initial goal was just “to finish” and raise a buttload of money for ReserveAid while I was at it.  Done and done.  All along I knew there would be another Ironman in my future (little did I know it would be less than a year into the future from IMKY), and I knew I needed things to work.  I needed to enjoy the experience.  Which I did.  A lot.  And things worked.  A lot.  No, I wasn’t breaking any course records out there, but I had a GREAT day and a fantastic experience and I was smiling all day long.  I said I wanted to race like Chrissie (yeah, who doesn’t?) – with a huge smile the whole day – and I did.  But there’s always room for improvement – ALWAYS – no?

WHAT WORKED:

• My race day nutrition.  Spot on.  Not a single GI issue/cramp/anything all day.
• My swim – slow, but paced myself well.  Went at MY pace (ie, slow!) and got out of the water feeling strong and ready to ride.
• My bike – held steady up the hills and bombed down them.  FUN.  Felt good coming out of T2 and ready to run.
• My run – I actually RAN.  Jogged.  Ran.  Whatever.  I was moving a LOT better than 90% of the people that were on the run course at the same time I was out there.  And I FELT amazing.  Even at mile 18 – I expected to be in a world of hurt by that point, but I wasn’t.

Not Dead Yet!!! (AKA: I Survived Ironman Louisville!!!)

I can’t believe it’s been an entire YEAR since JW registered me for IMLouisville.  A YEAR!!!!  So much went into preparing for this race – so much thought, so much work, so much….    pain!  And then, in 13 hours, 53 minutes and 19 seconds, it was all over.

Actually, it turns out it IS like pregnancy/childbirth – I’ve already forgotten a lot of the painful parts and I’m really enjoying the moment.

Ugh

My trip to Louisville started out with a bang…  well, maybe not so much a “bang” as a “ping!” followed by, “Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t!”  (I like to swear in threes.  It’s more effective that way).  Early Friday morning, six of us from Team ReserveAid were riding down to transition to meet a reporter from a local TV station for an interview – I shifted gears and heard a spoke pop on my rear wheel (thus the cursing).  My wheel was immediately no longer true and rubbing against the frame so badly that it felt like I was braking hard.

I got off and carried my bike the rest of the way there.

I did my best to smile during the interview…

To make a super long story short, I had a slight panic attack, frantically e-mailed my coach, was convinced my race was cursed, got mad at JW for being his usual calm and collected self, finally talked to the Zipp rep when they opened up shop for the day and was told that they recommend having the wheel re-built after you’ve had three spokes go (this was #2 for me – and being that these wheels were one of the MANY e-Bay purchases JW has made in the past eleven months, I had NO idea how many times this wheel had pulled this stunt).  They didn’t have the proper nipple (*giggle* nipple) to fix the spoke anyway.  So I rented a wheel.  It all worked out in the end, but Friday morning was really NOT my proudest moment.  But…  a good night’s sleep, a really good practice swim the next morning where my neck felt awesome, and a MASSIVE plate of French toast for brunch Saturday morning, and I was good to go.

Follow up the French toast with a giant plate of pasta and some minestrone soup for dinner, and I was feeling bloated, disgusting, and about 10 lbs heavier.  I guess that means I was doing it right.  After three days of this routine, glycogen stores were TOPPED!  (but my shorts no longer fit).

Team ReserveAid, READY to GO!

I had a shockingly good night’s sleep the night before the race, and race morning I was up at 4:20.  Ate my bagel, realized I forgot to get a banana in the blur of the past two days (oops), got dressed, and met Team ReserveAid in the lobby to walk to transition.  Drank my Gatorade on the way there and had a bag of PowerBar Energy Bites (Oatmeal Raisin flavor – my latest absolute favorite thing ever in the whole wide world).  My stomach was getting a little bit unhappy with me, so I slowed down the eating and drank water as I pumped my tires and filled my aerobottle.  Headed over to swim start with the rest of the team and was amazed at how long the line was – we were super far away from the dock, but could hear the canon go off for the pros and again for the rest of us…  so I took my gel and we started moving.

And then we stopped.

We were about 50 feet from the dock when they stopped the line.  At the time I didn’t know why – none of us did – and I’m glad I didn’t find out until after the race was over that they had to rescue a swimmer from the water.

When I finally got in the water, I shut down my brain (not that hard for me to do – not much going on in there, really) and started swimming.  I think I made the mistake of trying to re-route myself to the outside a few times when I should have been doing what my coach told me to do – let the stronger swimmers go around ME.  Definitely something I need to work on along with the speed, but all in all it was a really, REALLY calm swim.  Easiest part of my day, and having two men literally LIFT me out of the water was the cherry on top.  It took me about six minutes longer than I’d anticipated (1:41:14) and I was a wrinkly water-logged raisin by the time I got out of the water, but I FELT great, so I moved on and put it behind me figuring I could make up the time on the bike.

HA!   That was not to be….

Getting a nice tramp stamp sunburn

If there’s one regret I have about my day, it’s that my bike time doesn’t really reflect what I feel my cycling ability truly is (not that it’s spectacular or anything).  This is the one thing that has plagued me since Sunday’s race.  While I was ON my bike I couldn’t seem to figure out why the ride was taking me so much longer than it should have – my training rides were on a course with 1000 ft. MORE elevation change than the course at IM Louisville, yet this was taking me SO much longer…  WTH???  I thought I was doing everything right – I took my time and held steady up the hills letting everyone pass by me (and thinking how I’d love to slap them on the butt while they were walking and I was running when we got off our bikes).  I FLEW down the hills – aaahhhhh, technical descents – FUN!!!  I pulled into transition after a SEVEN hour ride and a serious sunburn in the tramp stamp area.  A full half hour longer than I was hoping for.  Again – WTH???  I’m not sure when my brain decided to resume executive function and it dawned on me – YOU STOPPED AT EVERY SINGLE AID STATION, IDIOT!  I did.  Literally pulled over at the end of the aid station, got my water, refilled, waited for an opening, and started riding.  During training I carried my extra water with me – Camelbak, Fuel Belt…  I figured I wouldn’t have to worry about it during the race – no reason to be a pack mule and load myself down with extra weight.  But I did NOT want to grab my water on the fly, either.  Call me skittish, sure…   after what happened at The Patriot Half (Summary:  Grabbed a bottle while riding, got clipped by a dude who cut me off to grab his bottle, went down, ended up in hospital) I really didn’t want a repeat performance!  I was finishing this race, dammit!  So I stopped.  And I stopped, and stopped, and stopped – I was REALLY staying hydrated.

And then they lost my special needs bag.  Add 10 more minutes to total bike time while they find it and watch my average cycling speed fall even further.  Ultimately, I was about 1mph slower than I usually ride.  But I stayed upright and my legs were still fresh when it was time to run!

Stop in T2, get some sunscreen (ooohhh – it was like a mini massage…  ), pee (apologies to the guy I walked in on – lock the door next time, dude!), remember that I’m not about to break any records on this course as it is and walk (yes, WALK – WHAT was I thinking?) the several hundred yards to Run Out.

Talking to Terminator + Running = Not Flattering

And then run…  No…  slow down, SLOW DOWN!!!  9:20 is NOT an acceptable pace to start your first marathon in your first Ironman!  I talked some sense into my legs – they slowed down.  I was feeling really, really good between a 10:30 and 11:00 pace.  Factor in walking a few steps while I grabbed some water and a salt stick or gel at every aid station and three (yes…  THREE) port-a-potty stops (need to work on peeing while running…  ), and I averaged a 10:53 pace for total marathon time of 4:48:35.  The ONLY thing I did UNDER my predicted time all day!  I figured it would take me 5 hours.  And ultimately, I felt great throughout the entire run.  Now that I know what it feels like to run 26.2 miles (well, jog, I guess) and I know my nutrition was spot-on, I think I could kick that up a notch next year.

I had so many “favorite” moments throughout the day…  on the bike, a man named Victor who I’d yo-yo’d with for a while passed me on a hill, saying, “OK Jessica – you’re Alberto Contador and I’m Andy Schleck…  ”  Tons of people telling me they liked my kit.  Aid station volunteers yelling out, “Team ReserveAid!” (one of the advantages of being behind your teammates after a pitifully slow swim – everyone’s already seen your kit and they’re starting to recognize by the time you pass!).  Riding through LaGrange and feeling like some kind of celebrity with spectators cheering and ringing cowbells everywhere.  And hearing person after person shout, “Tri for Our Troops!!!” when they saw me on the run.  A girl holding a sign that read, “Smile if You Peed Yourself Today.”  The best part of all was having Terminator there with us – our own personal sherpa and voice of reason, our photographer and cheerleader on the bike and the run (although, at mile 80, I was slightly jealous that she was on the back of a motorcycle and I was still pedaling), and she was right – I really DIDN’T want to pick up my bike and gear bags after 140.6 miles.  Having them in my hotel room after the race was like magic and THAT is something I can’t thank her enough for!

Just Get Me To The Voice!!!

My brain is already turning with thoughts of what I can do differently next year – what parts of my race plan worked (most of it), what went well (almost all of t!), and what I want to change for next year (ummm….  the bike thing for one).  I stuck to the plan and held steady throughout the day with an average zone 2 heart rate of 142 on the bike and 145 on the run – which I’m super happy about.  My nutrition was solid – absolutely no GI issues all day.  Throughout the entire day I only had one moment where I thought, “wow, I’m TIRED.”  I looked down at my Garmin and realized I was at mile 80 on the bike – and then remembered what Jen told me, “EVERYONE feels good until mile 80.”  I laughed.

After a year of injuries and accidents, I somehow made it to the finish line and heard Mike Reilly tell me I am an Ironman.  A year ago, I was Ironbound…  Now, I’ve arrived.  I AM an Ironman.

The crazy part is, I can’t WAIT to do it again!         

Two Fears

I had TWO fears going in to this Ironman craziness.  That was it.  Two fears.  It probably should have been a number larger than TWO given that I’d only ever finished FOUR sprints prior to registering for an IRONMAN (HELLO!!!  It’s like running a 5k one season and then deciding – what the hell – to tackle a 50 mile ultra-marathon the following).  I figured with the right motivation and the right training (more on that in a moment), I could (probably) do it.  It also helped that JW was rolling out of bed as early as I was (o.k – usually earlier) to train on the weekends (we won’t get into how early he rolled out of bed on weekdays…  ).  It’s no fun getting out of bed with the intention of willingly hurting yourself for the next four to six hours when your significant other is still asleep in a perfectly comfortable bed in a perfectly air conditioned house.

Anyway – Two Fears:

FEAR #1 – Swim.  Will I finish the swim before the cutoff?  Will I still be freaking out in open water after 10+ months of training???  WHAT THE HECK AM I THINKING I JUST LEARNED HOW TO SWIM I CAN’T POSSIBLY SWIM 2.4 MILES!!!!!!

Well.  By now I know that I WILL finish before the cutoff and no, I’m no longer a neurotic mess in open water.  I am, however, STILL unbelievably slow (but looking forward to remedying that in time for next season.  I’d like to move up a notch or two from “Unbelievably Slow” to “Not Too Terribly Slow” or maybe even “Used to be Really Slow but Now a Little Bit Faster.”  Everyone needs goals….  ).

FEAR #2 – Nutrition.  OMG OMG OMG OMG Nutrition….  OMG!!!!

HOW was I supposed to make sense of all of these Gu’s/gels/beans/Bloks/shakes/supplements???  How many calories/oz’s of fluid/mg’s of sodium/grams of carbohydrates do I NEED?!?!?!  By the time March had rolled around, I was so confused…  I didn’t know the SLIGHTEST about any of it and I was I was completely, totally, and admittedly overwhelmed.  The more I tried to learn, the more confused I became.  Everything contradicts everything else and it’s next to impossible to determine what’s right/true/wise and what’s ill-advised.

My first tri of the season – the Devilman Half Lite - probably would have ended better assuming I’d had proper guidance with regard to nutrition.  Even though it was early in the season (May 7th!), it was HOT.  The run was somewhere in the 9 mile range, and by mile 4 I’d already started to fade.  By mile 7, I was cooked.  I shuffled the final two miles and trudged across the finish line on legs that felt o.k. but really didn’t want much to do with moving.  It was frustrating.  Mentally, I had more to give, but physically, it just wasn’t happening.  But it was the wake up call that I needed with regard to the coaching I was receiving.  I wanted more.  I NEEDED more if I was going to successfully train for and finish an Ironman in three and a half months.

So I put on my big girl panties and faced the conversation that I really did NOT want to have.

Thank GOODNESS.

It’s true what they say.  Pain is temporary.  The pain of facing facts and having a conversation I didn’t want to have has long since passed.

And I’ve been in excellent hands since (THANK YOU, COACH JEN!).  These past few weeks have included long workouts (loooooooong – as in, my friends think I should be institutionalized for 100+ mile bike rides and 15+ mile runs – but other Ironman athletes find these workouts completely normal and necessary…  I’m still not sure which group possesses a higher level of sanity).  A primary focus of these workouts has been perfecting race day nutrition.

I can happily – ecstatically! – say that I feel like I’ve NAILED it.

Nutrition was NOT something I was taking lightly.  I’ve heard too many stories of athletes who didn’t take their nutrition preparation seriously enough during training or failed to stick to the plan on race day – and payed the price.  ”Train your gut like you train the rest of your body,” was something I recently read.  So true.  My body needed to “learn” to function on the fuel I intend to it feed on race day.  I was feeling physically and mentally prepared – getting to a place where I was comfortable knowing I had a solid nutrition plan was the last piece of my training preparation puzzle.  It’s taken me the past several months to figure out what I like and didn’t like, what worked and what (sometimes painfully) didn’t.  Having the right coaching – the proper guidance and advice – has made all the difference.  I have faith in my fueling!

And now…   less than two weeks.  Less than two weeks till I put that nutrition plan to work (and follow it to the letter!).  Less than two weeks till the last 10+ months of training gets put to the test.

All I have to do now is convince my body to taper the appetite along with the training!

The Best Decision I Ever Made

From a Photobooth - at a friend's wedding!

S/P TBI and Accumulated Fatigue

A little more than one month Status Post Traumatic Brain Injury…  and I’m still kickin’.  Probably a little slower than I’d like to be kickin’, but whatever.  My PT friend – the good Dr. Brady – assured me that I didn’t suffer any cardiovascular losses during the two weeks I took off (10 days of absolute NOTHING, then six days of “Return to Sports Concussion Protocol.”  Serious stuff.  Way more serious than I would have expected).  What I didn’t realize, however, is that I DID lose whatever slight heat acclimation gains I’d been making.  Holy #%@$!  Running in this oppressively thick you-could-cut-it-with-a-butter-knife weather is MISERABLE!  But I remember trying to run in this weather last year…  I made it about…  oh…  8/10′s of a mile and just said screw it…  and I quit running.

This year is different.  There’s no quitting in Ironman training.  You just get it done.  Get out there, get moving, and no matter how bad it sucks and how much you want to quit, you GET IT DONE.  I’ve taken heat acclimation to a whole new level…  sitting outside for no particular reason other than just to be hot.  Riding around in the car with the AC off.  Working out on the trainer without the fan on.  Running in the mid-afternoon heat ON PURPOSE.

There’s really been nothing else to life lately other than training and rehab (umm…  yeah.  Forgot to mention I FINALLY found someone who figured out the neck/shoulder thing – long story short, two pinched nerves – thank you, bone spurs – and a herniated disc.  After all.  I guess it takes going to the guy who’s responsible for treating the Olympic Decathlon Team to finally figure out that there IS – in fact – a definable issue and it can be treated.  And the first radiologist who read my c-spine MRI was apparently blind in one eye and couldn’t see out of the other.  Oh well.  Moving on…  ).  So training, rehab, a good bit of eating and a little bit of sleeping.  Throw in some potty training and summer camp, and the days have been pretty packed.  I was forewarned that there would come a time in my Ironman training when I would barely have time to brush my teeth….  well, my dental hygiene hasn’t necessarily suffered, but I AM having some serious Mom Guilt and Friend Guilt.

The Mom Guilt….  eh.  I think that will always be there in the back of my mind no matter what I’m doing.  In the end, I know doing the things I enjoy doing make me a better mom when the day is done.  But when I’m actually doing those things all I can think about is how I should be spending more time with my kids.  I’m a Stay at Home Mom, for goodness sake.  I don’t think it’s possible for me to spend any more time with them!

The Friend Guilt…  I must be super lucky because I have some of the most understanding friends a girl could ask for.  I group my friends into two categories:  The Tri Friends and The Non-Tri Friends.  Of course the Tri Friends get it.  Even if they haven’t done an Ironman.  They still “get it.”  The Non-Tri friends don’t.  Not that I would expect them to, but the fact that they don’t get it and they still put up with my frequent absence is amazing (I think they deal with me just so they can tell their other friends that they’re friends with someone who’s Training for an Ironman.  That makes them totally cool by association).

So a summary – last weekend was a sprint tri, my 100 mile ride/4 mile run and a 10 mile hilly run the following day.  Had a pretty normal week of training with a sweet 4000 yard swim thrown in for good measure.  Went to a Tim McGraw concert (where we had SICK seats and TWO of my friends TOUCHED Tim as he walked past.  I’m not even a huge fan of country music but it was an AWESOME time).  Got up and did an hour bike and a 13.2 mile run…  went into NYC for the afternoon and did a BUTTLOAD of walking, and got up this morning and rode 64 miles with JW and EZ.

My legs are TOAST.

NOW I really understand the taper (and why people look forward to it so much!).  WOW.  I have to be honest – today I just wasn’t feeling it.  It was a tough ride physically AND mentally.  Normally, when my legs are fried I can tell myself to suck it up and quit being a big baby – and move on to distracting myself with other thoughts.  Today was tough.  I started to realize how much Ironman training is like having a baby.  At the beginning of a pregnancy – like the beginning of training – it’s exciting and new…  then you have a ton of energy in the middle, and toward the end it’s just hot and uncomfortable and you’re tired and irritable and you start hurting in places that you didn’t know could hurt.  And you want to eat A LOT.  And then…  ah!  Well.  I have yet to experience the actual event, but I have to believe it’s a lot like childbirth.  It hurts like hell (I think – I had a few hours of contractions followed by a C-Section) and when you’re done it’s amazing (I hope) and you’re exhausted.  And you want to eat A LOT.  Then you swear you’ll never do it again, but by golly, you do (yes, I said “by golly.”  I also say “oh my golly,”golly gee,” and “good grief.”  JW looooooooves to make fun of me).

It’s getting close….  almost there!

My Cup is Half Concussed

DNF.  Did.  Not.  Finish.

I was kind of hoping to get through my triathlon “career” without having one of those mar my record, but it turns out that wasn’t in the cards.  Then again, it wasn’t exactly by conscious decision, lack of effort, or simply giving in that resulted in my DNF – so in some ways my cup is still half full.

The other half is concussed.

The Patriot Half started out like any other race.  I felt good.  I was calm (I’m an unusually calm racer – probably because what I do is less “racing” and more “participating”).  The distances (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run) didn’t seem nearly as insurmountable as they would have last year at this time.  I was READY.  JW and I drove the bike course the night before the race and I was looking forward to riding it – it was full of beautiful country roads that wound through wooded areas and along the water.  The course was described as having, “rolling hills,” but it turns out I have a different definition of rolling hills.  I’m used to the hills we ride in Pennsylvania – and I was having a Crocodile Dundee moment.  ”That’s not a hill…  THIS is a HILL!”  I think I would have described this course as having minor elevation changes.  So while we were driving it, I knew I could push a little bit harder on the bike than I’d planned and I was excited.  I’d brought my own pasta for dinner – learned my lesson the last time around! – and got a good night’s sleep.  We met up with our friends the next morning and went through all of the normal pre-race rituals – set up transition, pee, double check transition, pee, warm up, pee, put on wetsuit and move along to swim start.  I got in the water with my wave and hung back and wide like I usually do (I’m still not crazy about swimming in a giant human blender – maybe that’ll come with time).

Then things immediately got… well…  less than ideal.

My goggles were kicked off my face the second my face hit the (freezing cold) water.  If it’s gonna happen, at least it happened in waist deep water and I was able to stand up and adjust them.  I got moving again and started to get my rhythm.  Just as I was realizing how much I prefer salt water to this swim in a non-buoyant, freezing cold lake, some chick decided I would make an awesome floatation device and clawed at me for dear life while screaming HELP HELP HELP at the top of her lungs.  As much as I would have liked to have helped her, I’m still not so sure I’m capable of saving my OWN life in the water.  So I did what anyone in my position would have done:  Left her with the kayaker and kept moving.  It was a long and COLD swim.  I was thankful my coach told me to wear my wetsuit – yes, in a fit of crazed, Type A overachiever gunner-ism, I was actually going to to attempt the swim WITHOUT my wetsuit as prep for IM Louisville.  Really?!?!  I blame JW for that one.  Anyway, the swim was long (and I do mean long – as in, it sounds like a lot of people thought it was more than 1.2 miles.  Who knows!) and COLD.  By the time I rounded the final buoy all I wanted was a hot bath.  And I’d somehow found my way back into the blender and it just refused to thin out.  All in all, a more eventful swim than I’d hoped for – but I didn’t DNF!  Even though I WANTED to many, many times…

I think I had my quickest T1 ever.  First time in my life my wetsuit didn’t get stuck on something.

But…  as usual, I DID get stuck behind a slow-moving woman on my way out of T1 (one of the many downsides of being a slow swimmer, I think).  Of course I had no way around her because we were corralled through single file to the bike mount…  where I had to wait an additional three minutes for her to mount her bike and clip into her pedals.  I gave her her space – it was an accident waiting to happen (Ha!  Little did I know…  ) so I hung back.  I turned my bike computer on and – WTH???? – my power readings were all over the place.  Anywhere from 600 to 1100 (o.k. – if that means nothing to you, the “plan” was to keep my power watts between 130 and 140 throughout the 56 miles.  I was hoping that this would have conserved enough energy for the run and was anxious to see how I felt after riding at that power).  I restarted my computer.  Nothing.  I rescanned for the PowerTap.  Still nothing.  Well!  I’d just have to ride by heart rate and cadence and remember not to “burn matches” along the way….  and I think it worked out well.  I was cruising.  I was feeling fantastic.  I was staying hydrated and was right on target with my nutrition.  My plan was to stop at the bottle exchange for some water on the second loop, so I bypassed it the first time through.  It took me around 1:24:00-ish to complete the first loop.  The bottle exchange was around mile 11.  I slowed down, reached out and called out “water!” as I passed by.  I grabbed my water and the next thing I knew I got clipped by a guy that had cut in front of me.  WHY I didn’t drop the water and get control of my bike is beyond me….  I went down, but it wasn’t too hard.  I had dropped my chain, but the volunteers were great and put it back on for me while I poured the water into my aerobottle.  That fall got me this nice little souvenir…

Exhibit A: Evidence of Fall #1

I got back in the saddle – agreed with the volunteers that my knee was going to hurt like a bitch the next day – and was on my way.

Why, oh why did I NOT take the extra 15 seconds to look over my bike after that first fall?

I’m CONVINCED that I did something to my bike during that first fall.  All I remember after I rounded the corner from the bottle exchange is briefly thinking something felt “off” and the next thing I knew I was falling AGAIN.

I remember little after that…  Two guys standing over me while I felt the immediate need to sit up or puke.  Then I was on the side of the road (not sure how I got there).  Then sitting in a chair (not sure how IT got there).  Watching Carolyn as she rode past in her Team ReserveAid gear and thinking how easy it is to spot one of my teammates in those kits…  Answering a few questions…  an ambulance arrived.  Answered more questions.  Do you know where you are?  No.  Surprised expressions all around.  ”I live in New Jersey.  I don’t know know the name of this town.  Sorry.”  Oh.  Now they understand.  Good.  Make it look like you’re with it so you can get back on your bike and get going!  Nope.  No go.  Helmet’s cracked.  Get in the ambulance.  Go to the hospital.  Get an IV started…  EMT takes some blood.  ”Do you think you could be dehydrated?”  No way.  I was right on target with my nutrition.  ”Well, we’ll find out when they check your bloodwork.”  My blood sugar was good.  We talked some more.  He told me how he had cancer, and after chemo and radiation he and his wife chose not to have any more children…

Into the ER…  a blur of nurses…  I had an EKG.  Heart looks good – still have to check your head.  Any other issues?  Ha!  More than I can count!  Where should I start?  Joking aside…  I give them my medical history – hypothyroidism…  no, no allergies.  Two C-sections.  OH WAIT!  I forgot!  I have a clotting disorder!  Factor Five Leiden…  my dad had a stroke.  Nothing like telling medical professionals you have a clotting disorder – the CT scan turned into a CT scan STAT.  My head had survived the crash that had wrecked my helmet – but I was still in a neck brace and relegated to the bed pan until the x-rays were over.  Finally – x-rays are done, and they move on to the road rash.  Roll her to the side so we can get a look at this hip…   Oooooohhhhh boy…  WHAT?!?!  What’s wrong?  Are you o.k.?

I’m fine…  just SOOOOOO dizzy.  And my head… oh wow, my head.

I get the good stuff in my IV.

Carmen cleans my road rash.  It doesn’t hurt as bad as I expect.  She puts steri-strips across my elbow and tells me it looks like I have puncture wounds.  She also tells me they still haven’t heard from my husband and brings me the phone.  I try calling.  No answer.  An hour later, Carmen pulls out her cell phone and sends him a text.  He calls.  THANK GOODNESS.  I tell him I’m fine.  I have a concussion and a whole lotta road rash.  Where have you been???

He was in the med tent.

WHAT?!?!

BP was 70/40.  He pushed too hard on the run.  Dammit, JW!  Really?  Always giving it 110%.

He has to find my bike and grab my stuff from transition.  I lay on the hospital bed and wait.  Allen is my new nurse.  He realizes I’m about to leave and have no clean clothes.  He brings me scrubs.  I love him.  John arrives.  I’m so happy to see him.  I’m also happy to walk to the bathroom and use a real toilet for the first time since 4:45a.m.

I had a lot of time to think while I was laying in the hospital.  Did I want to keep doing this?  Is it worth it?  What about my kids?  Should I give up triathlon and just stick to running?  Maybe take up marathons?  I really DON’T like swimming.  But I DO love a challenge.  And even though it’s beat up, I still LOVE my bike.

It was scary, yes.  But somehow, I have to believe being shot at in Afghanistan is a LOT scarier.  And so I decide I’m going to continue.

I can’t quit.  I WON’T quit.

Wreck #2. This probably hurts the worst.

I honestly don't even feel this one...

Again, this one isn't so bad...