Opening a Door

Dear House,

I know that I have not taken care of you as I should.

Your floors are not clean. Your porcelain does not sparkle, and your windows do not shine.

I have let the children mar your walls and have left many projects undone.

It is NOT because I am no longer committed to you.

I assure you that I am not seeing another.

I just have not had the time needed to invest into our relationship. I attempt to do the bare minimum to keep up appearances, but I know that it is not good enough.

I am well aware of what I have swept under the rug and for that I want to apologize.

I want to improve.

I want to re-Comet.

I just have to prioritize and find the time between all of the other activities I am involved in.

You are important.

I would like to ask your forgiveness and assure you that I am trying to make you a priority again.

I will follow my cleaning schedule and will not leave you neglected.

I promise that I will not become angry at you and expect you to put a fantastic performance with just a few hours to prepare when company is coming.

Will you accept my apology? Do you believe me when I say I am going to be better?

GREAT!

*whew*

And now that we have finally re-opened our lines of communication, can I ask you a favor?

Can you please return the things that you are hiding from me in spite, such as my digital camera, Mr. Spie's gym bag, and our I-Pass transponder?

We really need these things and I think it would help our relationship if we both come "clean".

Wouldn't it be refreshing to wipe out all memories of our past indiscretions and start out again with a spotless relationship?

I anxiously await your response.......

or my missing items.

Sincerely,


Spie

What is it with me and maps?

Well, it's not December, but it is darn close. So I guess you are due a race report.

As you recall my goals were simple for my No Skirts Allowed Adventure Race.

They were to:

1. Not make complete fools of ourselves

2. Not to be DFL

Well, one out of two ain't bad! Let's just say that there is a reason for pre-race meetings.

My race was doomed from the start. My partner in crime's family had been suffering from illnesses left and right. My family could not get our act together and get out of town on time. Traffic was unbelievably bad through Chicago and Indiana.

Time and Health were not on our side.

My friend made it to the strongly recommended pre-pre-race meeting, the night before the race slightly late. She was able to get most of the information, pick up our packets, and get trained for the ropes course without a problem.

The morning of the race, we ran a bit late and got a bit lost (as is always the case). We arrived at the real pre-race meeting after all of the important information had already been imparted. In our rush to get our bikes to transition, our course plotted out, and me trained on the ropes course so I wouldn't die (as I was told "red means dead"), a brochure fell out of our course packet that we received that morning. As we are both veterans of many a running race, we thought that what fell out was one of those many local brochure/pamphlets that are inserted in the race packet only to be recycled when one returns home. We promptly disposed of the brochure (as we are not litter bugs) and continued on our merry yet hurried way.

(Insert ominous music)

The race was not at all what I expected. The web information was adamant that you have a mountain bike with knobby tires and bushwhacking clothes. We were required to carry a compass, knives, a fully stocked medical kit, a whistle, and space blanket. I was envisioning us ripping through the forest on some single track, dropping our bikes to scout out some obscure landmark with our compass, and completing some ropes challenges in between.

The actuality of the race did not match my vision in any way shape or form.

This race was really 2 events in one: an urban scavenger hunt and a hiking adventure.

Due to circumstances under our control, we only experienced one part of the race.

Our race started out with the volunteers stealing the front tire from one of our bikes. Our first task when the race started was to run to the barn and collect our front tire and put it back on our bike correctly. Each team carried a multicolored score card. Each box represented a task or clue we had to write down or complete. Certain colored boxes (Pepto -Bismal pink) were mandatory, all others were optional. Once our tire was on correctly, a volunteer initialed our first pink box and we were on our way..... or not.

In our hurry to get our bikes to the transition area, I forgot that I removed my bike bag (you know the one with the CO2 pump, cartridges, tubes, patch kit, tire irons) and put it in the car while it was in transit. So, while everyone else was riding out and starting their adventure, we were riding out to the parking lot to collect my bike bag.

Once we were assured of our bike safety, we took our time and checked our clue and the map that was included in our packet. We figured out the route to get to the location that held the next answer for our clue sheet. We took city streets on our mountain bikes to get to our next location which was located in subdivision..... and this is where our rapid decent into foolishness began.

I will just say that once you get used to being clipped into your bike, cages are not your friend. After I assured my partner that the full medical kit was not needed, that it was only a "flesh wound", we continued on our way riding on city streets filling out box after box with the requested information. We purchased baked good from Panera. We counted orbs around a fountain. We found out the date the library was founded. At each location we saw other teams with road maps. We wondered how they knew which road maps to purchase.

Finally, after following all of the clues on our sheet, we were at the park where you pick up the canoes. My partner's sister met us at the bridge, holding one of those maps everyone else had. Now, we changed from racer to inquisitors.

"Where did you get that map?" -- "The race start"

"Who gave you that map?" --"The race volunteers"

"What is on that map?"--"All of the clue locations are marked on this map. What? You don't have one of these maps?"

We promptly ran to the volunteers at the canoe pick up and told them that we did not have the map. They looked at us slack jawed and said.

"How did you even get here?"

Remember that brochure we threw out?.... um, yeah. Apparently they didn't stuff their race packets with brochures.

The radioed the race directors and told them our plight. They gave us their copy of the map and then carried our canoe to the river for us. (A special privilege apparently given to the last people to arrive at the canoe enter point). Chuckled a little at our expense and sent us on our way.

The canoe portion of the trip was not kind to us. We felt confident as we floated through our first rapid section and breezed past two teams who had, unfortunately, dumped. We tried, quite unsuccessfully, to navigate our way smoothly down the river. I was in the stern and that was not a good decision. Then everything took a turn for the worse....in the form of a submerged tree.

We dumped. I lost my paddle. It was cold and the water was even colder. We managed to get to shore and flip our canoe, which was now piloted by my friend. My job, to sing to her. At one point, we tried unsuccessfully to rescue my paddle, soaking me even more. The end of our canoe portion couldn't come soon enough. The canoe ride ended in a park and we were once again greeting by my friend's sister, who was the reason we could continue the race.

By the time we got out of the river, I am sure that I was in the beginning stages of hypothermia. I was shaking uncontrollably, I had lost feeling in my fingers and toes, and my lips were turning blue. Our cheering section took one look at me and asked if I wanted her coat. I took her generous offer without a second thought. I ended up stripping all my top layers off to my race singlet and clutched the coat to me in dire need of warmth. She also took my friend's wet coat in order to alleviate our load.

Health -- for me at that moment -- not the best.

At this point, after all of our pitfalls and pratfalls, we decided that we were only going to find the required clues in the park and hightail it back to our bikes. We quickly gathered our clues, recorded them on our now soaked score card, and hiked back to our bikes.

Our time deadline was 2:00. It was 1:15. Time, once again, was not our friend.

We breezed through the last required clues (a MAP really helps!) and began our trek home. Only to realize that the map we needed to get back to the race start was in the pocket of my friend's wet coat ----which was with her sister and not with us. We attempted, unsuccessfully, to use our heads and memories to return to camp, but after 6 hours of trekking around Indianapolis without any nourishment (as we incorrectly assumed there would be aid stations like at all the other running/triathlon races we participate in), we were not in our right minds.

Our salvation came in the form of the teams that were also bringing up the rear. We explained our plight and asked them if they would help us back to camp. We traveled as a peleton and return to camp with 15 minutes left in the challenge.

Frustrated at our circumstance, we threw down our clue sheet and rushed to the ropes course in hopes that we could do some of the challenges prior to them shutting down the race. We were able to try the high rock climbing wall and that was it. Disappointed, we returned to the race start to gather our emotions and garner some nourishment.

Before you have the sympathy cards written out for me and in the mail, there were several highlights to my adventure race.

1. The race shirt was the coolest race shirt I have ever received.
2. The volunteers were the friendliest, most helpful, and best dressed (all the men were wearing skirts) I have ever encountered.
3. I was introduced to and now love NOODLES company food.
4. I had the best partner ever. Despite everything she kept her sense of humor.
5. I now have a real adventure story.

We have tentatively talked of doing the race next year. We have many ideas and strategies we plan to implement. Thus far, our short list is~

1. Drive down the day before the race and stay at the camp in order to both make the pre-pre-race meeting and the pre-race meeting.
2. Arrive to the pre-race meeting on time. (Will be solved by implementing #1)
3. Make sure we have all the maps (Will be accomplished if we implement #2)
4. Bring nourishment for the race
5. Collect only the required clues during the urban scavenger hunt
6. Never put Spie in the stern of the canoe

Based on our plight, feel free to comment and add some recommendations of your own and if you are doing an adventure race of your own, I would suggest that you DO NOT ask me for any advice.

(BTW -- We were not DFL -- We were one above DFL.)

WOW! It's October?

Fall (and life) is just racing past at a pace that I cannot maintain. Every time I seem to get close to catching up (like when it is at a water station), it gets refueled and takes off like a rocket again, leaving me gasping and gaping as I look at its running tighted behind disappear.

Needless to say, there are literally a bajillion other things I should be doing rather than writing to you dear blogging friends, but I right now need a little down time and as I am sitting while I writing this post, I'm labeling this as rest and recovery.

On the racing front, I have an adventure race coming up next weekend. My partner and I had grandiose ideas on how we were going to practice orienteering together, take a spin or two in our friend's canoe, and I was going to run on the local cross country course to work on my trail running skills. Thus far, a week away from the race, a whopping 0% of those goals have been met.

Although I originally had no goals in my head for this race other than having lots of fun, I have now created two new ones:


1. We will not make complete fools of ourselves.

2. Not to be DFL.


Pretty lofty, I know, but I am hoping they will be accomplished. I will let you know in December, when I finally get around to writing the race report. I am sure that it will be pretty gosh darn funny.


And in complete, way behind schedule fashion, I am now FINALLY going to write a review of some Sugoi tri-shorts which were so awesomely gifted to me by fellow blogger T. when the weather was warmer. I received these shorts as a reward for being attacked by a bird (or at least that is how I remember it).



I was uber-excited to win the shorts. I could not believe how thin they were when I tried them on. They were like tissue paper. I was afraid of ripping them! The chamois was really thin too, not meant for anything much longer than an Olympic distance triathlon -- which left me with a problem as I only signed up to race HIM distances this year. In order to do a "kinda" review, I decided that I was going to wear the shorts on a really hot day during a brick workout. My reasoning was that you really can swim in most anything (except perhaps a prom gown), but the comfort of biking/triathlon shorts really come into play during the bike and run. Additionally, if I wore them on a really hot day, I would perspire (okay sweat) a lot and the shorts would get wet, then I could see how they dry during the run or after my workout.


What I failed to take into consideration in my plan is that summer never really did visit the state of Wisconsin this year and that really hot day in which I had to do a brick workout never came into fruition.

So, months passed and every time I opened my triathlon gear drawer in my dresser (don't we all have one of those?), those shorts would not so kindly remind me that I have not reviewed them yet...Leaving me riddled with sadness and guilt.


But... believe it or not last weekend (the September one), plan B emerged and I can (sort of) complete a full review (swim/bike/run) of the shorts!


Obviously, as indicated by my lofty goals above, I am not training for my upcoming adventure race. I am, HOWEVER, training for the Hot Chocolate 15K. Usually my long runs have been on Saturday, but due to a gymnastics meet for my daughter, I had to move my long run last week to Sunday. (I know you are thinking what has this go to do with the shorts, but keep reading it will all become clear soon!)


About two weeks ago, my friend called me and said that she got an e-mail asking if she would be available to be a swim angel for the Danskin Triathlon that was happening last Sunday. She asked if I would be interested in volunteering with her. Since triathlon has given me so much, I was thrilled to have the opportunity to give back. After, clearing it with Mr. Spie, I promptly said YES! Then, I had to figure out how to fit my 10 mile training run in that day too. I decided, the best way to do both and not compromise any more family time, was to run to the race venue in the morning (my friend would meet me there with my wetsuit and towel), swim as an angel, and then run home.


Naturally, I chose to wear the Sugoi shorts for my adventure into insanity.


The shorts were really comfortable during my to the venue run and as it was dark out, I appreciated the reflective accents on the leg making me a little more visible. They were really lightweight and did not bunch or ride up during my run. The chamois was a non issue as well. There was no diapered feeling at all.


During my time as a swim angel (and what a rewarding and eye-opening experience that was!) the shorts were covered by my wet suit. Although I cannot fully comment on the feeling of the shorts in the water by themselves, I can state that unlike my other triathlon/bike shorts that I have worn under a wetsuit. These shorts did not bunch up and make funny bulges on my legs or cut off the circulation to my thighs because they had rolled. They stayed close to the body and in place, which is really impressive when you consider they do not have any leg gripping elastic. I was also glad that when I was done, the shorts stayed on my body when I not so delicately stripped my wetsuit off!

After my swim, I packed up my gear, put on my running shoes, gave my wetsuit and towel to my friend, and went to collect my free t-shirt for volunteering (I received the technical T rather than the cotton T -baBING!). We then walked together to my run starting point. All in all I spent about 1/2 hour just getting ready to run. By the time I started to run my way back home, my top I was wearing was definitely still damp, the shorts however, were mostly dry! My run back in the shorts was the same as my run to the venue. The were cool (in both senses of the word) and comfortable!

Although, this day did not include biking, that is not to say that I haven't worn the shorts on the bike at all. In the "heat" (figuratively, not literally) of triathlon training, I was riding my bike upwards of 3 times a week. With all of the other stuff, not only swimming and running but also parenting, dishes, cooking, cleaning, shopping, etc., it did not leave a lot of time for laundry. The Sugoi shorts saw a lot of saddle time and they were comfortable, as long as it was no longer than a 2 hour ride. My three hour rides in which I road tested them were not all that fun in the end (or somewhere near my end).

All in all they are really great shorts, they are a bit shorter than my other triathlon bottoms, but what is the use of all that work if you don't show it off a little right?

Thanks to T. for her generosity (and forgiveness for the really late review!).....

....and send me really good racing thoughts for my upcoming race -- I think that we may need it!

How Not to Race a Half Iron Man

(I know that this post is about two weeks late. The craziness referenced below continues...)

Step 1: Preparation and Training

The weeks prior to the race had not put in me in a good mental state. I was stressed from many things from volunteer responsibilities to advocating for my children in school. The stress of my day to day life became debilitating, draining, and demoralizing. I began to view my workouts as something more that I needed to get done. I would be riding my bike and always be calculating how much more time I needed to ride. On my runs, I would do the same.

What made matters worse in my training was that I seemed to keep getting slower and slower. I was deteriorating into a really bad mental state. I began to doubt my ability, question the authenticity of the result at Racine, and chastise myself for having “podium dreams”. Up until the day of the race, I was still fighting my mental battle. I just tried to get myself into a positive mental state, through self talk and tough love from M. My goal for the race was to race the best race I could that day and to have fun. Whatever will be, will be.

Step 2: Tapering and Resting:

After much anticipation (rather dread) race weekend was finally here. The plan was to leave early Friday morning, to get the kids settled at the in-laws and then Mr. Spie and I would drive the bike course, pick up my race packet, enjoy a nice dinner without kids, return to the in-laws, and retire early for our big day of racing and spectating.

The reality was that Mr. Spie had a mandatory meeting Friday morning and we hurriedly ate lunch and left town about 1. We drove down to my in-laws. Pushed the kids out of the car –err I mean dropped off the kids and hurried out to packet pick up. We scoped out the swim course and got lost driving the bike course. We searched out dinner about 8 and arrived back at the in-laws by 9:00. We were greeted by our brood in full grandma/grandpa frenzy. After many bedtime reminders and idle (and not so idle) threats, we FINALLY got everyone settled and asleep by 11:00 p.m.

Step 3: Technology and Pacing

My electronics and gadgetry were spot on for this race. My watch (as I was just going “old school” again) was on its last legs. The Indiglo was not working for days prior to the race and I hoped that the battery would last throughout my race.

I guess my hoping was for naught as I forgot to hit start at the swim start… and again at the bike start…. And just didn’t even bother for the run start.

You would think that I would check my bike computer before the race started based on the fact that at my last HIM my bike computer didn’t register. Well, you are wrong and once again my bike computer did not register.

In summary, I was swimming without time, biking without mph, miles, and time, and just said “what’s the point” and ran without knowing my time.

Step 4: Nutrition and Hydration

Nutrition for the entire race (including breakfast)

• Bowl of Raisin Bran (pre-race breakfast)
• One Cliff Chocolate Brownie Bar (on the bike)
• One- half of a bottle of Gatorade (on the bike)
• One aero bottle of water (on the bike)
• **crickets chirping***

Raise your hand if you see a problem!

Why are all of your hands raised?

Oh….. yeah….ummm…..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So, all of the above elements were setting me up for a craptastic event. But, sometimes I even surprise myself.

THE SWIM


The swim was fantastic. It was two loops of a rectangle. The white capped HIM men started the race at 6:45 and the yellow capped HIM women started the race 3 minutes later. The water was much warmer than Lake Michigan (77 vs. 64) and…. I actually swam it – freestyle. There was no panic. There was no “cannot put face in water”. I fell into a rhythm and just swam. I breast stroked just a few times to sight, when I lost visual on my destination buoy, and once when I got goosed by HIM man. (He apologized – no offense taken!) Amazingly enough, I exited the swim surrounded by more white cap than yellow.

What was even more amazing is that Mr. Spie figured out which of the yellow capped wetsuited woman was me and actually got a picture of me exiting the water. He said that he saw a person wearing my style wetsuit and was acting like me so he took at chance. (At first I was very impressed and excited that we were more in "sync" than I thought. Then I took offense and grilled him about what he meant by acting "Spie" like.)

THE BIKE

The bike was two loops on country roads with several finger offshoots with 180 degree turns (not my favorite). Because I was riding blind, I just decided to pedal. It was not the slaughter fest that was Racine (even though my final mph was slower --on the new bike *sniff*). I was passed, but not with the magnitude that it was in Racine. I stared at the calf of each of the women that passed with much interest. As the fourth one in my age group passed me, I said aloud, "There goes my Olympic dreams" and just kept pedalling (and obviously not eating). I was not downtrodden, as I know my strength is in the run.

As a way to compensate for my lack of feedback about my ride, I came up with an alternative plan. In triathlon, you are always staring at the backside of someone, I noticed that this guy and I were going about the same pace. I decided, since I have no feedback on my own riding other than my mental assessment, that as long as I could keep that guy in my sights, I was going to be okay. He would pull ahead and I would push harder, I would catch up and back off a little to rest. He was my carrot and I was the rabbit. Now, before you start having drafting thoughts run through your head, I always remained draft legal -- three bike lengths behind --as I am totally a rules kind of girl. I only was in the draft zone once when I pulled along side him during the return leg of the last loop to thank him for his pacing help and we exchanged pleasantries. I pulled forward for a little bit and a short while later, he passed riding off into the distance (but still in my line of sight!).

THE RUN

(During my run, my visor was really bothering me. Here I screaming at Mr. Spie to take the visor .

Oh and the lady in the bikini behind me was very popular with the spectators)

The run was brutal. I was so excited to be off the bike (my weakest discipline) that I could not even imagine the torture that lay before me. The run course was a C shaped course (two loops of course) on old and crowned country roads through cornfields. The Olympic course athletes were running on the same course as well (1 loop) so you knew that some of the people running with you were "almost done". As I got through transition and onto the run course, I noticed that I was quite tired and the "pep" I was used to running with was no longer present. (I know that you are all screaming at your computer "DUH! You didn't eat!", but realize that when I am that deficit in calories, I really don't think straight) After a few minutes of running the internal arguments commenced.

"Just walk, there is no shame in walking"
"You haven't even given this a fair shake, walking admits defeat and you are not defeated"
"Okay, how about using that watch that is just telling the time on your arm and go Galloway?"
"You can do this, just keep moving forward. It will be okay"

Just repeat this or a variation of this internal conversation about 1000 times and sprinkle with some self defamation such as "What were you thinking -- podium? Hah" and "You are really slow" and this paints a pretty accurate picture of my mental state during the run. Then, after a couple miles, I passed a person in my age group -- the fourth woman (and last) woman in my age group that passed me on the bike.

After the pass, my new goal was to just keep moving so she could not pass me back. I started coming up with a "run survival" game plan. I would "get a drink" (walk, rest, whatever...) at every other water station. Run and look towards my next rest --er drink. Drink quickly and start moving again. I passed another woman in my age group as I was implementing my plan. She stopped at one of my "run through" water stations. As I passed her, she screamed "Hey, she's in my age group! You go momma!!!". I smiled and decided to keep on moving, keep with my survival plan, and keep her behind me. As I looped back again, I saw the two ladies I had passed and I was gaining ground, but I still kept with the plan. The final water station, a mile from the end, I decided that I wasn't going to stop. I pumped myself up with the thought that it was only 8 more minutes of work (during a normal run) and I could make it. When I crossed the line, I could stop. As I gained a little speed in the final mile, I passed another woman in my age group and that was all the incentive I needed to keep the feet moving. I was going to finish and I was not going to be repassed. Finally, as I crossed the finish line, the wheels came off. I could barely stand upright to get the chip taken off of my ankle. Mr. Spie was furiously taking pictures and I barked at him to stop and to immediately come over, keep me upright, and direct me toward the food.
I downed a Pepsi and went for the pizza. I tried the pizza and my body wanted no part of it. They were streaming the Olympic results on a large screen TV in the park pavilion. Due to my technological ineptness, I had no idea of my results. With some sugar in my blood stream, I was starting to think a little clearer and I went to find out when the results for the HIM were going to be posted. The volunteer told me it would be a few minutes and I went back in search of Mr. Spie. On my way back to the pavilion, I ran into my "carrot". I thanked him again and asked how he fared. He had difficulties on the run. His wife was racing too and introductions were made. As we were chit chatting, Mr. Spie came up and told me that he had good news and bad news. He asked me which news I wanted first. I said tell me the bad news...

"You were 15 minutes slower than your last race"

A bit disappointing, but not unexpected. The swim in this race was not short and I totally fell apart on the run. I accepted the result and chalked up the increase in time to a big nutritional lesson learned.

So what was the good news you ask?


How cool is that?
(I now am over the top addicted to the sport of triathlon)

Just Because

I haven't much time as I am scrambling to leave for my race after lunch. I have bags to pack, tires to pump up, children to retrieve, laundry to fold.. just an ordinary day.

Life has been a bit busy to blog right now, but I promise a race report and other ramblings soon.

In the meantime, enjoy this "parent of a preschooler" humor.

I always knew the perkiness was just an act!

Race on!

Spie

Jinkies!

Our costumes for the kid's parade at the county fair this week.

We won first prize for our category!

We need to solve the mystery of the absent blogger!

Our vacation was wonderful, not as restful as I would have liked as it is never restful to travel 8 hours at a time in a car with a bunch of meddling kids.

There also were adventures abound starting from our overnight stay in Pittsburgh in an “off the beaten path” motel. Our family of 6 crammed into a 10x10 room with one double bed and all of our camping gear. Cheese did not want to sleep on the air mattress on the floor with SwissMiss and I gladly traded her as I did not want to sleep on the bed! (I am kind of a hotel snob – this establishment really gave me the heebie jeebies). The decor of yellow fixtures in the bathroom, tobacco colored lampshades, and dark wood paneling were newly “remodeled” according to their business cards.

Our subsequent accommodations in the Shenandoah National Forest and Chippokes Plantation were much more to my liking (tent camping!)

The Spie-mobile loaded for our epic adventure!

The gang at the National Cemetery in Gettysburg.

It was really, really hot. Can you tell?

The view from our campsite in the Shenandoah Forest

The Wildlife

Our Hikes

Day at the Ocean

Jamestown

After a week of recovering from our vacation and resuming workouts, we now are gleefully or woefully (depending on whom you speak to) inching towards the start of school. School begins week from today and my last triathlon race (another HIM) is a little less than 2 weeks away!

Undoubtedly, more excitement and adventures await for us all! (One of first adventures for the family are haircuts for No I Son and Captain D!)

Lo and Behold

Well, not all race photographers are art school drop outs. Out of the 6 photos there are of me racing, five were acceptable. As I never post photos of myself, this is a rarity, to be relished and recollected for perpetuity...

I love this picture. It is the classic hitting of the watch. Other things of note is the expression of the athlete next to me... It is priceless, that is if you are not blinded by my the glare off of my very pale body... Guess who takes those sunscreen/skin cancer warnings seriously? ME!!!! That's who!





I can't remember exactly where the bike photographers were.... Although it needn't matter as my expression is the same in both bike pictures. I am sure that it was probably the same throughout the entire ride with the exception of when I was yelling "Thank you" to all the volunteers and police and when I finally was done with the ride and able to dismount --that picture would have definitely had a look of relief.




Look at the bounce in that step! This picture was taken shortly after my potty stop. I am continually looking for options for my hair. This year I have tried hats (too hot), the elastic band (which I am sporting here and not quite a fan of the full force forehead), and a visor (which I left in transition as it was not sunny and I haven't really become accustomed to running with it yet). I think that for my next HIM, I will be sporting the visor as the forehead (at least for me) is a bit too much!



My finish photo.

I really don't think that the camera man could have been any farther away. I had waited to stop my watch, hoping to get a good finisher's photo....Oh, well at least I can tell it is me crossing the finish line -- or at least I think it is me.

********************************************************************************

In other news..

This week our family is gearing up for our big CAMPING VACATION. Each year our family along with family friends go for a camping adventure. Four adults, seven kids, and two-billion pounds of gear. Last year we tackled South Dakota, leaving Mt. Rushmore, Custer State Park, the Badlands, and Sturgis in our wake. This year we are off to the Virginias...

The East will not know what hit them.

I am sure I will return with many a funny story about Captain Destruction and the rest of the superhero gang!

Until then, eat well, train smart, and recover with a vengeance!

So Yeah...

Apparently I did this HIM thing over a week ago and then dropped off the face of the blogging planet.

Frankly, I am still trying to wrap my mind around the whole thing…

Oh, and my friend M let the cat out of the bag about my results.

No, don’t think at all I am mad at her about doing it.

Frankly, had she not posted my time you would have probably had to do some significant research to pull my results up on Athlinks –

Admit it we have all tried to cyberspy on fellow blogger (Well, maybe, just me)

I have learned many lessons from my first Half Iron Man and I would be remiss if I would not pass along my new found wisdom with you.

1. Going to my husband’s work party the night before entitled “RIBFEST” in which you have to sample and vote on your favorite BBQ rib (13 entries in all plus appetizers and desserts) – BAD IDEA

2. Driving the bike course prior to the race because you were too chicken to ride it when the road was not closed – GOOD IDEA

3. at 8:30 at night after leaving “RIBFEST” – BAD IDEA

4. Returning at home at 10:30 p.m. to finish packing No I Son’s bags for camp – BAD IDEA

5. Using Garmin to tell you how to get to race at 4:30 in the morning so you don't even have to be awake while you are driving-- GOOD IDEA

6. Spray on Sunscreen and body marking – BAD IDEA

7. Trolling for friends in transition so the butterflies don’t grow into dragons – GOOD IDEA

8. Shallow Lake Michigan Swim (64 degrees) – BAD IDEA

9. Blue Gatorade, Blue Sportsbeans, Chocolate Powerbar on Bike – BAD IDEA

10. Race Flats and Yanks – GOOD IDEA

My race exceeded my expectations. I calculated and recalculated my expected results using all of the gadgetry that I could find on the web.

Never did I anticipate this story's ending.

The swim was cold, shallow, and short. I also swam *$%^ty (add another s word in here that is far from polite). It was so cold that I could not put my face in the water. I kept on breast stroking because the water made my ear hurt (note to self ear plugs next time). I finally got into a rhythm about 500 from the end. Although my time was decent, it was not the swim I am capable of. My goal for my next HIM (September 6th) is to actually swim (not breast-crawl) and although my swim time may increase (due to the SOR course being short), I will not mind as I will know that I will have done my best – which is not a statement I can currently make about this race’s swim.

The bike.... Let's just say I am a runner and not a biker. I have been working on this and some changes* have already been made. BUT, I can honestly say I followed my plan and probably could have pushed myself a little bit more (I was really concerned about saving my legs for the run). I followed my nutrition and was blessed with cool and cloudy weather. I almost beat my ultimate goal (I went over by 1 minute and 58 seconds) There are a lot of super speedy bike riders out there and one day I hope to be able to hang three bicycle lengths behind them (Must be draft legal of course).

Overjoyed to have completed the bike, I was undaunted by the two large hills I had been warned about; hills that you have to run up twice, right at the beginning of the two loop course. My plan was to run "old school", meaning just run, no HR, no pace, no strategy, just run. Right out of transition, running up the first hill, my plan was slightly derailed, every footstep reminded me how much I needed to go to the bathroom. I initially thought I could stick it out, but my mind was changed the minute I saw a runner dart off the path and run down the dune to the port o potties at the swim start. Immediately, my bladder decided that was the plan for us as well. Let me tell you, I have never felt such relief.

Because I was significantly lighter, my steps were lighter as well. As I began running again, I realized that I was actually going to complete this race. I began to tear up a little. I brought my emotions back in check and concentrated on running my race at my pace. It would have been so easy to go fast or slow, depending my current company. I was passed by a few and restrained myself from falling into pace with them for I did not know which lap they were on. I passed many and resisted the urge to slow up a bit and take a breather as I had not looked at my watch and did not know how long I had been racing.

At a little over mile ten, I finally had the courage to look at my watch and I saw 5 hours and some change. Even in my emotional state, I had the wherewith all to realize that I had less than three miles to go and 40+ minutes to make my penultimate goal. I am sure my fellow athletes thought I was crazy when I said aloud "I like those odds". I continued my pace, floating to the finish line, fighting back the tears.

I felt such joy crossing the finish line. I can honestly say that I have never worked as hard in a race as I did that day. I also realized that I really underestimate myself -- I mean really underestimate. I raced well and learned many things that will undoubtedly help me as a train my next HIM on September 6th and for my race goals in the future (IM Moo 2011 -- anyone?)

*I am a true believer of rewarding yourself for good work. And, if you remember my comment that I need to work on my biking and steps already have been made.

Meet Belle (as in Silver Belle):

Now, I just need to get my legs to produce speeds that won't insult this beauty!

Where there's smoke....

What a week! What a weekend!

This past week I spent three hours each morning entertaining my three year old as my children were learning to swim. There are few non-negotiables in my house. Learning to swim is one of said items. My three oldest children have been involved in swim lessons since they were three years old. (I never did the mommy and me program. I don’t need that kind of bonding with my kids)

Each summer our swim program does a two week intensive swim camp. The first couple years we participated it was not so bad. Those would be the years that Captain Destruction did not know how to move on his own. After he started terrorizing – oops I mean moving on his own, swim camp/lesson has turned into my own little personal ….

Well, there are so many things and places he can hurt himself, it is an aerobic workout every time we are there. There are bleachers he can roll down. There are concrete stairs he can roll down. There are construction barriers that he can break down. Vending machines he can vandalize. Bathrooms he can flood. Potential hazards are everywhere. I guess it is unreasonable to expect the university where swim lessons are held to Captain-proof their facility, but after Thursday maybe they will start.

On Thursday, Captain Destruction did the naughtiest of naughties and I really am not exaggerating. If there were a hierarchy of naughty things you are able to do, what he did would be on the top.

I know what you are thinking, he’s only three what deviousness is he capable of? Well, you need to remember this incident. And then there was the time when he called 911 at the tender age of 18 mos. Oh, and remember when he did this?

I would rather have a repeat of all of those incidents over and over like the movie “Groundhog Day” if it would erase the events of Thursday.

Thursday, is the day Captain Destruction pulled the fire alarm…. Emptying the pool of the swimmers, parents, and instructors (about 100 people in all)… emptying the building of all of the college faculty and staff…bringing the bicycle campus police to the building in record speed.

Now, if it were not embarrassing enough that it was my child that caused this chaos, he pulled the alarm during the girls’ swim lessons, which are first, which left me sitting with a restrained Captain on my lap for an hour and 10 minutes after the time he pulled the alarm, listening to parents and swimmers and swimmer siblings all trying to deduce who was capable of such deviousness.

Who knew the emotional torture for me was just beginning?

This weekend I swam for my friend in the Trek triathlon. In previous years, this past weekend was always the Danskin triathlon. The Trek weekend procedures mirrored Danskin’s. Saturday was packet pick-up and bike racking. Sunday morning was the race. Because the relay was not my A race (that is in 6 days YIKES!), I needed to train. I had a three hour ride on tap so I drove to the packet pickup area with my bike and decided to start my ride there so I could meet my friend when packet pickup opened.

I started out by riding the bike route for the next day’s race. I have done the race several times when it was the Danskin and liked the bike course. About 25 minutes into my ride, my bike felt a little squirrely. I stopped and looked at the back tire (the one that always flats on my rides) and was surprised to see that it was still inflated. I started off again only to feel less in control of the bike and then spotted the problem. It was indeed a flat, but it was the front tire.

Now, I know how to change a tire. I have had to do it enough as I seem to flat all the time. Just because you do something all the time, it does not mean that you are good at it or quick about it (like swimming, biking, and running for instance). It took me F.O.R.E.V.E.R. to get the tube out of the tire. So long in fact that a man who lived in a house near where I decided to change my flat came out to make sure I was okay.

Yup. I was that slow.

Anyway, I did get it changed (without help thankyouverymuch) and 30 minutes later I was on my way. (Yes I said three-oh minutes). I rode just a little faster once I got going to let off some pent up steam.

My delay caused me to arrive back at packet pick up 5 minutes late and the lines were already out of hand – 5 minutes after the doors opened. I guess everybody had the same idea of ‘in-out-no one gets hurt”.

We wait in line after line and finally after a 30+ minute wait we were at the t-shirt table. At first, the kind volunteer did not want to give me a shirt. My friend showed her the slip of paper that said we were entitled to as many goodies as relay participants, but that wasn’t good enough. The volunteer had to ask her station supervisor. Finally, I was given permission to get a shirt and I was told that only size large on up were left and I am certainly not a large. I thought “How could this be? I know my friend asked my shirt size and checked the appropriate box upon registering. How can they not have my size when we arrived to the table less than one hour from the opening of packet pick up?” A little miffed, I took the large and decided that I could use it for biking and perhaps for sleeping and I guess that was okay.

Next, I decided that I would take a quick look at Trek triathlon bikes while my friend looked at the other merchant booths in the area. I wanted to size up a WSD to see if it would really be a better fit and more comfortable to ride. Lately, I have found after a 4 hour ride, I do not really like my bike so much. As I wandered into the booth, I expected it to be like a used car lot – you know vultures circling and a lot of talking about what it would take to get me to buy today.

I was wrong.

I asked a question about sizing hoping it would begin a dialog. I received a one word answer and the big brush off. Apparently, Trek is not hurting too much in this economy. (More miffed)

We leave the vendor area and go to rack my friend’s bike. She had brought her daughter with her for the festivities as she is participating in a kid’s triathlon in mid-August. My friend thought it would be a good lesson on how to rack and talk about racking location, finding your path to all of the entrances and exits, setting up a transition area – kind of a dress rehearsal for her real thing. As we are about to enter the bike racking area, we were told that children were not allowed in transition. NO EXCEPTIONS. So, I sat outside of the area with her daughter as my friend racked her bike. Now, this situation was not so bad as I could go in as soon as my friend came out, but a situation with children that was much worse occurred while I was awaiting my friend’s return.

Another athlete came to rack her bike and she had all four of her children with her as her husband worked on Saturdays. The children ranged from 8 to about 3. The older three children followed directions and waited along the transitions fence. The three year old started to wail, so the mom/athlete began to carry him in and she was told that the sobbing three year old could not be carried into the transition area that he needed to wait outside.

This broke my heart and made smoke come out of my ears simultaneously. Logically, I understand that the volunteers were enforcing the rules which were created to keep all of the athletes’ belongings, particularly their bikes, safe. I also know that these women only triathlon series were created to remove some of the roadblocks to women participating in competitive sports. If an athlete is not able to get childcare for the day before the event and must bring her children with her, not allowing children in the transition area, especially small children, is roadblock. There are hundreds, perhaps thousands of people milling about. The volunteers enforcing this rule indirectly states, “Your children’s safety is worth less than the bikes that are housed in this transition area.”

Additionally, I feel that children of women who train for these events have developed, or are developing a respect for the equipment. My children have learned at an early age that you do not touch Mommy’s bike. They also know that the “no touch” rule is doubly enforced with other people’s bikes.

If they were going to enforce the “No children in transition rule”, they owed it to the participants in this event to post the policy in the athlete instructions so no one would be caught off guard like my friend and this other athlete. We were there at 10, how many other moms did this happen to during the packet pickup/racking time which ended at 3:00?

Shockingly, race day came and went with out much incident. I felt that the swim course was not marked well as it was very difficult to sight. My friend improved on her bike time and run time from the previous year. It didn’t rain. It wasn’t burn your brains out hot and we all had a great time. It was rather anticlimactic considering my rage from the day before and my agony from the week.

I am hoping that all my difficulties from this past week and weekend equal nothing frustrating or debilitating for my race to come!

Hit Me

This past Friday I had a startling revelation.

My race is almost here.

Now, you think I would be giddy, jumping for joy, doing cartwheels in the street with as much whining and complaining that I have done.

You would be wrong.

The panic alarm went off on Friday morning after my swim. Being the ultra-organized (read: type A, anal, obsessive/compulsive, control freak ~ you pick the adjective) person that I am, I write all of my swim workouts on index cards and double zip lock bag them to keep them tidy, dry, and accessible on the pool deck. At 5 a.m. in the morning I am not lucent enough to memorize a swim workout and to be honest, if I did have it memorized I would still like to study it between sets just to make I am clear about what I should do next (read: to rest more).

My swim on Friday was the last workout of the week, so I needed to switch the card. Imagine my shock when I realized that I only have TWO cards left.

Dealer…I need another card.

Physically, I can say with 93.08 % certainty that I have done all that I should to successfully complete my race. I have run over 13 miles several times (including two race situations), I have swam over 1.2 miles (including two 2 mile swims: one in a pool and one in open water), I have biked over 56 miles on several occasions. I have met all the distances in workouts. I have bricked long and short. The physical preparation is done.

Now, I need the extra cards(weeks) to work on my mental preparation.

I think that the mental preparation is the hardest. And if you are a faithful blog reader, you know that I have struggled with the mental aspect of the race throughout my training.

Last year, my race season was quite disappointing due to an injury. Of the 5 races I planned (4 sprint, one Olympic), I was only able to complete 1 and 2/3rds of my sprint races. This year, I have signed up to race two HIMs. Quite a big jump, eh? From sprints to HIMs?

I wasn’t thinking that when I signed up, now I am beginning to question my sanity.

In addition, I am always doubting my ability.

I have a friend who is my "go to" guy for biking. When I started to train for triathlons, I would always ask him questions about training, cadence, trainers, etc. I even sent him pictures of the bikes that I was looking to purchase for his opinion. In my head, I would be a decent rider if I could keep up with him. I finally got the confidence to ask him to ride with me a few weeks ago (as I have read that you learn to ride faster by riding with faster people), his response was met with a sigh of relief as he was unable to ride with me.

This past Sunday, I had my last long brick on tap. I decided to ride in his neighborhood as I was bored with my own and he had shared some of his favorite routes with me. As I was slowing down for a stop sign, my friend pulled along side me. I asked him if his intention was to hunt me down and humiliate me for he knew I was riding in his 'hood today. He replied that he wasn't and then I told him I was going to jump on his tire and draft him.

Not only did I draft him, I actually was able to ride along side him for a large part of the ride and because I was determined not to get dropped, I exceeded my highest mph ever on my bike.

Even today, I am not allowing myself to acknowledge my riding improvements as a tiny voice in my head keeps telling me that he was taking it easy on me~that he was not riding full tilt because he did not want to drop me.

Now, here is something else to make your head spin.

Yes, I doubt my abilities, but I also desire more than "just finishing" for all of my races. Based on my results from my indoor triathlons, half-marathon, and open water swim, I want to do well, certainly not podium, but mid-pack. I have my goals (A --the realistic time B-- Would really be nice, C -- the penultimate) posted in my training log.

What I need now is my game plan (and my poker face) for when I go over and the house wins.....

and that my friends is why I desire another card.

Well, that's a first

This past week has been chock full of a bunch of “firsts” for me.

I had my first swim in my wetsuit which was not *sigh of relief* the…..
……same day I had my first open water swim race.

I also had my first really long ride…
….which was in conjunction with my first animal attack.


On Tuesday of last week, my friend offered to go with me to the beach so I could practice swimming in Lake Michigan in my wetsuit. I was overjoyed at her offer as I was quite nervous about swimming….

swimming in my wetsuit….

swimming in my wetsuit for two miles during a race….

swimming in the open water….

swimming in Lake Michigan….

If was related to open water swimming, I was nervous about it. Before she even had a chance to reflect upon what she had just offered, I jumped on it. She had just signed on to watch 8 children ages 9 and under at one of the Great (Drowning Risks) Lakes while I practiced wetsuit open water swimming.

We met at the beach got the children slathered in sunscreen and settled. Then, I set about the task of suiting up. If you ever want to have lots of people stare at you like you are an alien, go to a public beach on a 90 degree day and start pulling on your wetsuit. As I was struggling to get all the parts and pieces placed correctly in the suit, I noticed that I was garnering many weird looks. My friend lovingly confirmed that wasn’t just me being paranoid as she noticed that everyone was looking at me as well. She took a picture to document the absurdity. G.R.E.A.T.

As I waded in, I was pleasantly surprised. The water was not that cold. There were no dead things (or people) floating in it. It wasn’t too choppy. The suit was not too binding. As I started swimming parallel to the beach, I concentrated on staying smooth and focused on my stroke. I was amazed at the buoyancy of the suit and felt the additional effort on my arms. With each stroke, my unease was melting, revealing some strength and confidence beneath. I thought that I could not only complete my 2 mile race and my HIM swim, but complete them somewhat respectably!

Relieved, I trudged back to the beach (have you tried walking in water in a wetsuit? Now, that takes practice!), stripped off my suit, and profusely thanked my friend for her generosity. I, undoubtedly, will pay her back as I have convinced her to “tri” a sprint this year and she wants to practice some Lake Michigan open water swimming as well. Then, my new found confidence and I breathed a sigh of relief about the weekend’s race. We packed up the munchkins, making sure we had the (best behaved) right ones and headed home.

My confidence was not my confidant for long as it hit the road the night before my race, The Pleasant Prairie Open Water Challenge. This race was the cherry to my race insanity sundae called the month of June. Although I was just calling the race wetsuit practice, no amount of “talk” could camouflage the fact that it was indeed a race. A race that I, could quite possibly, end up DFL. The Open Water Challenge was a private swim team, master swim team, and open category race. Most of the participants, in my head, were serious swimmers and serious swimmers were fast--me, not so much, even in my wetsuit.

I have never started a race thinking that I could be last and I have to admit, I was having a hard time digesting the prospect. I arrived to the race early and watched all age group and master events. When it was time to suit up, I waded in the water and found a friend to help me. Talking to others helped, but I was still quite unsure of the outcome. Would confidence return? Or would I be buried under doubt once again. As the horn sounded and I trudged into the water (It was a beach start and I have that walking in the wetsuit problem), I mentally decided that whatever happens will happen, I just needed to stick with my mental game plan of settling into a rhythm and to focus on not panicking which would equal the breaststroke.

Once I stopped worrying about the outcome and started focusing on the process, everything fell into place. I was sighting well, I found some feet and drafted, I passed people; I got swam over and did not break my rhythm. I only breast stroked once on the final leg of the swim to remove a stick that was stuck to my face. Confidence returned and swam with me the entire way! It is always much nicer when you are racing with someone! As we crossed the mat together, I breathed a sign of relief as I now knew that confidence will be joining me for my swim during my HIM too as we have made a pact to always swim together!

YOU: Awww, what a nice inspiring story, but what about the animal attack?

ME: Are you all only about gore and drama? I thought you read my blog to be inspired! Not to laugh at me.

YOU: Yeah. Yeah. We are inspired. Now, get to the funny stuff.

ME: *hummph*

ME: FINE.

On, Friday of this past week I rode my final really long ride before my race. I decided to ride multiple loops of a regular ride so I would not get lost. As I was riding on the frontage road northbound next to I94 (the "I" if you are from WI), I heard a squawk and then felt a thump on the back of my helmet. My first reaction was "What the blazes was that?" Then, it happened again.

SQUAWK.

THUMP.

Then, I heard the squawk and I noticed the shadow starting to swoop down on me once again.

THUMP.

I was being attacked by a bird. My heart started racing and my cadence increased to rpms that I have never achieved in any of my training videos. I started flailing my left arm above my head and began screaming "SHOO, SHOO" at the top of my lungs.

Now, as you are imaging this scene, remember where I am riding -- on the frontage road next to the interstate.

Or, if you happened to be driving southbound from WI to IL, you would not have to imagine it as you were one of the 40 -50 drivers who were probably a witness to "When Avians Attack" Wisconsin version.

Thank goodness I have never seen Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds as I am sure that I would have soiled my pants. I almost did without the help of the movie.

I did finally out sprint the bird and stopped to gather my thoughts. As I was on the phone to Mr. Spie to letting him know that I was just attacked by a bird, a gentleman in a truck stopped and asked if I was okay. I told him what happened and he said that I was probably attacked by a red winged blackbird as they have attacked him in this area as well when he rides.

For the duration of my 4 hour ride, I avoided that frontage road like the plague. After my loops were complete, I headed for home but I had pass by the red-winged gatekeeper. My plan was to go as fast as I could and if I heard squawking, I was going to go faster. As I turned off the frontage road, my heart skipped a beat as I noticed a red winged blackbird perched upon the street sign watching me.

I can't be sure, but I think that I heard a bird like chuckle as I rode away.

When it rains....

it really rains...

Well, summer finally stormed in. After months and months of winter and the absence of spring, I had become acclimated to 6o degree weather. This past weekend, Wisconsin greeted summer with two days of on again off again tornado warnings, severe thunderstorms, flash flooding, and 90 degree weather. There are so many unfortunates to summer's grand entrance.

1st unfortunate -- The first 90 degree humid day of the entire summer also was the day of my 10 mile race. So, I was not only battling legs that had not fully recovered from the MC200 relay, it was really, really hot and I was no way acclimated to such temperatures.

I am sure you are asking yourselves why I would undertake a race so soon after my relay. The 10 mile course almost mirrored the run course for my HIM next month (NEXT MONTH?????), and I,being a very good girl scout, always try to prepare for my races by knowing the swimbikerun courses.

2nd unfortunate -- I called home to give my race report and was greeting with a

"Guess what?"

Apparently, when the power goes out for 8 hours during severe thunder storms it equates to 8 inches of standing water in your basement. How nice! We had talked about refinishing the basement for several years and last year, I convinced Mr. Spie that the refinishing money would be better spent on redoing the kitchen. (So, at least I was right on that count.)

Thus far the casualties are several moved boxes (you know the ones that you move from house to house but never unpack), some outdated electronics (wet tape deck anyone?), two carseats, Mr. Spie's die cast car collection is now without most of their boxes, some of his power tools are working questionably, 1/3 of our Christmas decorations, hand-me down books from my mom, and a completely devasting loss (even more than the Christmas decorations as Mr. Spie pointed out that I stopped decorating for Christmas when we had children) was that my treadmill was downstairs -- in 8 inches of standing water.

My treadmill. The one that has seen me through marathons and triathlons. The treadmill which has protected me from thunderstorms and black ice, been with me for runs at dawn and runs at dusk. My steady, belt regulated training partner no longer works.

It actually is a non athlete's dream now as it still inclines and declines and the "cooling breeze" fan still runs. The belt does not turn, but mileage and calories are still counted. So essentially you could stand on the belt at an incline for 30 minutes not moving and still burn upwards of 400 calories or at least according to the treadmill.

3rd unfortunate -- because it is now finally warm, we are unsure how the furnace fared as it resides in the basement too. We are taking a wait and see approach to this as heat is no longer a pressing need. (At least until next week when fall arrives!)

Fear not, life is not all doom and gloom. I am in the highest intensity of my training and ticking off my workouts as they appear. I am trying not to look too far ahead or I will become overwhelmed and may freak out a little.

This weekend I have my 2 mile open water race -- or try to see if I can swim in a wetsuit as I like to call it. Nothing like testing out your wetsuit skills for the first time in an actual race. I am sure that you will all look forward that race report as it is sure to be hilarious and full of chafing!

Lastly, a couple weeks ago my youngest daughter Cheese celebrated her 5th birthday. We gave her the Target version of an American Girl doll. Now upon reflection all of our terrible luck has happened after the doll appeared.

Are we paranoid?

What do you think?

(Look at those evil eyes and the way she is reaching for the fire!)

(I believe at this point Cheese has realized the power she possesses, heh, heh, heh)

(Getting their next instructions from Little Miss Chuckie)

(Please send help as I think it is already too late for No. I Son!)

day at the track

A photo essay by No I Son, age 9