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.