Updates and Lessons Learned

Well, internet friends, a blog post has been way overdue. I could waste your time writing pithy paragraphs detailing the myriad of reasons why I have been absent. But, frankly, it boils down to the fact that my heart was not in it. I would read these amazing posts and feel inspired to write, but then the rhythm of life would drone on an on and I would mindlessly join in going through my daily motions.

Since I have been gone, several notable things have occurred.

First ~ I did get my sunny yellow card that stated all was well with the samples from my mole colony. I initially felt pretty good about receiving the card until my follow up appointment for my perpetually chapped nose in which the “no friend of mine” dermatologist told me that the results on my moles were actually inconclusive, but the surrounding tissue they biopsied was fine…..and I should really come in every 6 months for another butchering checkup. I guess on a positive note, I should mention that my nose is finally cleared up after I got to treat it with a steroid. Unfortunately, it was just a topical steroid – (Just kidding!)

Second ~ School is out for the summer. Now, those without children probably do not think this is notable, but now I am on as entertainment, referee, chauffeur, cook, maid, and social director 24/7. In addition to making it nearly impossible for me to double up training days unless I make friends with my bike trainer (and during the summer months that is just cruel and unusual punishment), I cannot manage to keep the house somewhat clean or the refrigerator stocked with enough fruits and vegetables. Who knew that my children could finish of an entire seedless watermelon in one day or consume a large bag of baby carrots in a “15 minute snack”? One day you are going to see a story on national news about a mother going ape-crazy after she was asked for the millionth time what was for breakfast/lunch/dinner? The news stream will show four children will sad faces and empty dinner plates while in the background I will be curled up in a fetal position rocking back and forth muttering “No, you cannot have a snack. We just had lunch. Dinner is after lunch and we have not had lunch yet. Dinner will be at 6:30 like it always is. No it is not 6:30 yet…….” Or something in that genre.

Finally ~I did my first race of the season. Kansas 70.3. It was not good. If you want a really good report visit here and I could not be happier for her. My race was not that race. I will give you the Cliff Notes Version of my race.

1. Left Thursday night. Kids Sobbed. Capt'n D stuck to my leg like glue. Needed to be peeled off. Drove away with tear stained faces burned into my memory. Guilt.
2. Got up really early Friday. Drove 10+ hours. Arrived in Death Valley with humidity (Kansas). Ran 40 minutes. Became dehydrated. Knew I was in trouble. Enjoyed good food and even better company. Called home. Capt'n D covered in hives. No I Son knocked the wind out of himself at the babysitter's. Cheese fell off bike and scraped knee. Guilt.
   
3. Slept in on Saturday. Enjoyed delicious breakfast. Facebook chat revealed hives were gone. Informed that Mr. Spie had big presentation next week and kids needed to go with him to office for couple of hours. Guilt. Got lost (as always) going to race site. Perspired profusely. Drive bike course. Panicked. Got lost going to hotel. Went to bed. Death Valley 90 degrees. Wisconsin 58 degrees (at 10 o’clock at night)
4. Race Day. Got up early. Drove to race site without incident. Chose not to bring wetsuit. Swim suddenly wetsuit legal (water temperature suspiciously dropped from 81 to 77.5 degrees overnight – must have dumped in a lot of ice!). One of a handful without wetsuits. Swam slow. Biked lots of hills. Wore out ¾ of the way through the bike. Began to realize I am in trouble. Cannot run. Cramping. Drink Gatorade and water at every water station. Run/walk course. Kindness of strangers garnered me a salt tablets and a 20 minutes later a little more pep in my step. Finished. Disappointment. Drank lots. Did not go potty until 4 hours and multiple drinks after the race. Called home. Swiss Miss has stomach flu. Guilt.
   
5. Monday. Got up early. Drove home. Arrived home to a more pleasurable climate. Capt’n D has stomach flu. Spie will never be able to go away for four days alone ever again. Guilt.

Please kind reader, do not draw the conclusion that I regret ever doing this race. I had a wonderful time with my friends and their wonderful kind family. I have the memory of Chrissy Wellington giving me my medal and I uncovered some serious flaws in my nutrition. I also learned that I really am a "Northern climate" girl.

And, although I am filled with guilt every time I leave my brood, I know that my children are also learning many things during my away races. They learn that people, even parents, are multifaceted. They know that I have many interests and passions and sometimes one interest takes me away for a bit, but that does not mean that my other interests (No I Son, Swiss Miss, Cheese, and Capt'n D) have dropped in the rankings. My kids also learn about training hard for a goal, taking risks, and disappointment. They also learn how to dust themselves off, learn from their mistakes, and to continue looking forward rather than back.

But, I keep hoping that the biggest lesson they learn when I travel for my races is that Mr. Spie is actually capable of taking care of their needs too!

Shielding myself from the brighter side

I am once again brushing myself off after being knocked down by a bully in this playground called life.

I have to admit that I am getting a bit tired of receiving life’s jabs.

Similar to the way I discovered I have scoliosis, my latest altercation occurred much by accident and was brought on by a bit of vanity on my part.

For several months, I have had red, raw, flaky, and basically unattractive skin under and surrounding my nose. I look like I have had a cold for the past 4 months.

I have had similar issues with my skin decades ago when I was in college. I initially thought that the stress of my brief employment caused the dreaded dermatitis from my college days to appear once again. After two months of unemployed bliss, my rash remained and I decided it was time for some action.

I made an appointment with a dermatologist.

When I made the appointment, I explained my vanity issue and I also stated that I would like a skin check as I enjoy being outdoors, sometimes miss spots with the sunscreen, and as I am a Dalmatian (quite pale and covered with spots: freckles and moles), I realize the importance of yearly mole checks.

Due to the secondary reason of my visit, I got to meet the dermatologist dressed fashionably in a paper gown which is always a good start to an appointment.

The discussion about my face was quick and succinct and involved a really “cool” pocket magnifying glass. She didn’t think it was the dreaded disease of the past, but a new “high likelihood of reoccurring” disease that will be cured in a matter of weeks when I use the “very expensive not covered by my insurance as my diagnosis is considered a purely cosmetic issue” cream.

As we discussed the treatment of my perpetual “cold” face, the doctor began the skin check. I felt it was going rather well as she made it through my scalp and face rather quickly.

Then, as it went south, it all went south.

The doctor had to leave the room to get her skin marker -the one that is used to circle/mark suspicious spots. Then, copious use of the “not so cool now” magnifying glass began. After I was all scanned and done, there were three moles, according to the doctor, that were no longer welcome to reside on my body ~ two on my back, one on my abdomen two inches lower than my bellybutton – a place the sun has never kissed.

These moles, while they were not displaying all the traits of the really bad kind of moles, you know "gang" moles; they were not cute and cuddly. They were somewhat in-between ~kind of like ferrets.

Quick as a wink, I am signing consent for biopsy forms and filling out a sunny yellow (how ironic is that?) postcard that will be sent to me in 10 to 12 days if moles are in fact cute and cuddly and just looked tough. My spots were named and numbed. Razor blades were drawn. Skin was cauterized and my rogue moles were put in vials to be whisked away to the lab. Minutes later, as I am inhaling the scent of my burned skin, I am clinically bandaged, told not to swim until the biopsy sites are healed (approximately a week), and sent on home……. to wait.

Now that I have actually time to process what happened, I am a bit scared.

I am using much restraint to not don sweatpants and dive headfirst into pints of Ben and Jerry's Chubby Hubby and eat myself into a comfort induced coma.

Although, I did indulge a bit after my appointment and wore sweatpants the next day as jeans irritate my new second navel. I promise those behaviors are not the norm.

Mr. Spie kindly tells me that “Everything Will Be Alright”, but I really don’t need a reggae song, I really need a statistician as odds will be more comforting to me than crooning.

As this story ends, I, once again, have extra time to think as I am not able to complete all my workouts.

And because every story must have a happy ending, in my free time I have come up with a list of "positives"

1. Not swimming is better for the treatment of my face and my face is looking better -- perhaps it is because I am putting something that costs more than gold on it.


2. No doubled up workout days for a while means more sleep.


3. I am lighter now.


4. Parts of me are newer.


5. I now will not have to deal with the pressure of being a swimsuit model.

In the meantime, I wait. In addition to coming up with more positives, I am going to work on keeping my sunny* disposition and lose myself in the rhythm of everyday life or perhaps, Bob Marley.

*but not too sunny as we have learned, too much sun is not a good thing.

Sweet Relief and a cruise (or two or three)

This past week I finally have returned to running. My mechanic/chiropractor (probably be-grudgingly) gave me the thumbs up to take the body out for a spin (run) this week while she is on vacation. (Her vacation = my sweet relief). I promised not to go crazy and drag race. She said that it probably would feel weird, like I was driving another person's vehicle.

All during the time I have been visiting her, I have to admit I have been still a skeptic. How is it possible that she is moving my spine with the little "pinger" gun? With each of my attempts (two) to solve my pain the rear problem, I decided that I would trust and follow the rules for the initial course of treatment. My initial chiropractic plan was for a month of treatment. I would give it a month and re-evaluate.

On Thursday of last week, I finally broke out the Asics and took them for a spin. During the midst of my euphoria I realized two things.

1. My gait is different. It feels weird. Perhaps the doctor really was moving my spine with each "ping".

2. I don't have the pain in my rear. I DON'T HAVE THE PAIN IN MY REAR!

My gait is truly different and I have been working on building my base and getting accustomed to the new gait. I land, roll, and push off on a different part of my foot now. Soon, I am going to have my gait reanalyzed to make sure that I still am wearing appropriate shoes as I would hate to be sidelined with another injury.

Each time I think about realization #2, I tear up a little. It has been at least 8 months since I have run without pain in my rear. It was a running companion that I did not want to have. This is not to say that I am not running pain free, as new muscles are being recruited during my runs and they, frankly, do not like being awoken from their slumber.

Although I realize that my body work is not quite done, I am happy that my mechanic lets me take her out for a spin every once in a while and with each mile I log and each hour spent in the body shop, I know that I am moving closer to my destination. (with undoubtedly some stops for baked goods on the way -- you know, for fuel!)

No Longer Under Warranty

I fear that I am no longer operating under warranty. I know that I have well exceeded my 100,000 miles. My everyday vehicle is showing signs of wear and it is very frustrating.

I am the first to admit that I probably haven’t been as diligent as I should have with my preventative maintenance. Sure, I went to the mechanic when it was acting up, but as for regular oil changes, tire rotation, and the other things that race cars need…Well, I must admit I did not follow the standard maintenance procedures. I have spent many years just testing the limits and pushing the gears, not really concerned about possible wear and tear down the road.

Perhaps, that is why I am having problems today. I have been having the various knocks and bumps checked out when I put my vehicle through its paces, but never considered that something structural was the cause of my performance issues. Here I was just hoping to get a wheel alignment and now, as my previous post has revealed, I have just discovered that my frame is bent.

There really is no option to trade it for a newer model, and frankly I wouldn’t want to. It has too many memories attached to it. I know the story for every ding and scratch. It has carried four passengers safely to their destination. It is worn and comfortable, and up until as of late, quite predictable.

I have spent two weeks being angry at my vehicle. Upset that it has some serious structural damage and frustrated that I have been asked to not take it around the track for a while. I have been irritated that this imperfection had been hidden from me and annoyed at the problems that my bent frame has caused.

As my mechanic diligently works to minimize any performance issues due to my structural problems (as the frame cannot be completely straightened), I am cross. I can no longer function comfortably in my vehicle. It no longer feels like it fits. The contentment is gone and when it left, it took my power with it leaving me with a misfiring engine which is no longer able to produce the power it was just a mere two weeks ago.

I started to rue the day that I even took it to the mechanic. Friends, relatives, and my mechanic have assured me that my vehicle, although it still will have a bent frame, will run better than before. It will be more fuel efficient and my power will return. Perhaps it will even be faster. But, lately, I have started to doubt as I travel through each day which a vehicle that stutters and stops, lurches and sways.

Then today, I decided to look at my vehicle with a different perspective. Rather than viewing that it has let me down. I am starting to realize that perhaps it is the exact opposite.

My vehicle, which frame was bent more than 20 years ago, has worked hard compensating, dare I even say masking, its structural problem. I have run it through college competitive swimming, mountain biking and road biking, hiking, running, canoeing, white water rafting, and last and most importantly, carried precious cargo four separate times without any hesitancy.

More often than not, it has exceeded my expectations with its performance in race situations. It still fired when it is running low on fuel and the engine is overheating. It delivered all that I have asked of it and more.

The frame, although it is not straight, it is the same bent frame that has done all of the wonderful things in the past and with a little TLC and some rebuilding, it will continue to race through life. It can and will race because the engine and computer are not damaged ~because it is me.

throwing me a S-curve ball

As you loyal readers know I have been fighting a running injury for several months now.

It, literally, is a pain in my butt.

It “reared” its ugly head sometime in June and has been my constant running companion ever since.

It is not good company.

At its worst, it would linger on days that I did not run and cause me discomfort in my everyday tasks such as driving, climbing stairs, and standing still. On its good days, I would feel pain and tightness when I ran, especially speed work and hills, but would not be felt at any other time.

When the bad times started to exceed the good and it became my “off” season, I finally decided that enough was enough and medical attention was sought.

I contacted a physical therapist with the hopes that a little time off, stretching, and therapy would heal all my woes.

Progress was slow at first as I am not a very patient person. I stopped running for an agonizing 6 weeks in hopes that time off and attention would heal my wounds. I did all of the stretches assigned and the exercises requested. I was more diligent about my recovery than dressing my children in clean clothes for school. I was sure this prescription work and I could pick up right where I left off.

Soon the 2010 season was upon me and training needed to start, so I began to run once again. The pain showed up to run with me the first time I laced up my trainers after my “healing hiatus”. As I was still in physical therapy some new hip and buttock exercises were added with the speculation that those parts were weak. (Personally, I wondered how I could have weak hips. I birthed four children)

A few weeks later, physical therapy and I broke up. I was not seeing progress and the time commitment was too much (in addition to the copays). The physical therapist said that the major inflammation was gone, but I would probably always have some pain when I run.

I could not accept that.

I gave it a month of running to see if it would improve. It did, but the pain still lingered, and the thought that it could possibly get worse was always droning in my mind while I ran.

So, I decided that I needed to try another method of healing.

Maybe it was skeletal rather than muscular?

After talked to several people and getting several recommendations, I made an appointment with a chiropractor.

My initial visit was a discussion of my symptoms, lifestyle questions, expectations, and purpose of my visit. Next there were several tests performed including nerve conductivity, examination of my feet and stance, and finally a full set of spinal x-rays. The results of all of these tests were to be discussed at my next appointment.

I came to that appointment looking forward to finding answers to why I hurt when I run. I also was a little apprehensive as I might find out why I hurt when I run.

Good or bad, I was ready.

What I got was a curve ball I didn’t expect.

First, the chiropractor put up the x-ray of my skull and neck and a control x-ray next to it. She asked if noticed any differences between the two. Immediately, I answered that I jut my head out from my shoulders. When I was in therapy for my swimmers slump, I was doing exercises to bring it back into alignment. (Man, I am really falling apart this year!) She indicated that I have lost the curve in my neck and without that curve, the weight of the head increases three times. With the proper curve the head only weighs 10 to 15 pounds to carry around, without the curve 30 to 45 pounds. (Wow! that must explain why I always feel the weight of the world is on my shoulders.)

Next, she started putting up the full x-ray of my spine and without her even saying a word, I stared at the lighted x-rays and exclaimed. “I have scoliosis!”

(My sister has scoliosis and as a child I was screened multiple times, by various doctors and specialists. My right hip has always been higher than my left and it was just speculated that I had one leg slightly longer than the other.)

There it was lit up clear as day – “mild” S curve. The first kink was right below the shoulder blades. The second kink is one or two vertebrae right above the tail bone. Those kinks correspond exactly with where my muscular problems have been – my right shoulder and my right hip.

My first question for the chiropractor was since I have been like this all my life, why am hurting now? Then, my mind raced immediately to my two girls and now the fact that I need to be extra vigilant about their screening for scoliosis, almost to the point that I want to them to get x-rays as adolescents.

Now that I have had time to process it, I have more that I need to ask:

Does this explain my pain in my shoulder and upper back that I always have?
How will treatment relieve this symptoms if there is always going to be muscular pressure?
Which people (obviously my doctor and pediatrician) is it important to disclose this information?
Will it get worse and cause problems for me in the future?

I also have some questions that I would love to ask by probably will not. Most pressing on my mind –

How much taller would I be if my spine was straight?

Poking Teams

So…. I have recently become involved with Facebook.

At first, I came to the relationship kicking and screaming. I usually am a here and now kind of girl. (Mr. Spie is rolling his eyes right now and saying “I wish”).

Meaning, that in the world there are a lot people that would give anything go back and relive high school, college, their 20s, etc.

Me?

I like where I am right now and will like where I will be in the future. Maybe this will change when I am 80, but right now this is the philosophy I subscribe to.

This philosophy really has messed with my head as I venture into the Facebook world.

My current friends, I connect with every day. They really don’t need some pithy status update to know where I am at mentally. In fact, at any point of the given day most of them will accurately be able to guess where I am at physically as well. I live my life a little like an open book.

Past friends, this is where I become a little muddled. I have friends that range back to middle school that I keep in contact with. I have a friend from grade school in which I get occasional updates. We are “Christmas Card” friends. Previous to my Facebook, I rarely have even given a second thought to friends from high school. My feeling was if the relationship was important to each of us, I would still be in contact with them.

But….

I have recently befriended a “Christmas Card” friend and when I was scoping out her friends, there was the high school “gang” sprinkled throughout.

Curiosity, my friends can be a dangerous thing.

For weeks, I have been looking at her list debating whether or not I should contact one of the “gang”.

I even added my maiden name and changed my profile picture to include my face to increase my recognizability. (I was previously just my torso and legs running – I extremely dislike myself in photos). These things were done in conjunction with my Facebook experiment of posting a positive or humorous thought a day to combat some of the negativity that I was seeing in the Facebook world! (….which is another topic for another day. I mean seriously can everyone’s lives be that bad each and every day?)

These changes and actual posting were done to see if any of “Christmas Card's” friends would contact me. It unfortunately did not work.

So…

I am left to figure out why I want to have contact with my former friends?
Narcissism?

What is my intention for the relationship if contact is made?
Validation?

Tired of the self analysis, I nervously chose someone today and I wrote them. I didn’t friend request.

Out of my realm of comfort?

Yes!

This has transported me back to high school and I am currently awaiting someone to pick me for their team for dodge ball.

Am I going to get picked or left holding the ball?

The only thing I can do is wait, see, and be ready to play.

keeping it in line

During the busyness of the holidays and my previous “working” life, I got a little sloppy.

There were so many “must dos” that had to be done that there was little to no time to tackle the “should dos”. The “shoulds” were put on a shelf in plain view. A reminder of things I needed to do (and to be blatantly honest, some of the “musts” were put on there too). I would often come home at the end of the day and look up at the “shoulds” up on the shelf and have little or no desire to tackle them.

One of these “shoulds” was to return the call to my long time friend. She and I have been friends from the 6th grade. Together, we fought our way through Middle School, survived High School, and celebrated College. We were there for first apartments, first boyfriends, weddings, children, and life. When I moved up to the snowy tundra of Wisconsin, it moved our relationship into the long distance category, but we still made it work.

My friend called during Christmas break and as I was struggling to keep my head above water, I just couldn’t find the right time to call her and catch up. I would think of this “should” often as I looked at the phone and then went through all of the other things that I “must” do – and the “musts” always would win. I kept telling myself that I would get to it and planned that once my employment had ended, I would make the time to call her back.

She, however, beat me to the punch by leaving me this message on my machine last week.

Hi Spie. It’s friend. I just returned home from an 8 day hospital stay. Call me when you get a chance.

Needless to say, whatever “must” I planned do to at that moment (which was feed my children lunch) was put on hold as I immediately returned her phone call. (Fortunately for my hungry children, Mr. Spie was home for lunch too and fed the ravenous brood)

My friend, it turns out, was life threatening ill. Those 8 days? More than half were spent in ICU.

Guilt has quite a hearty punch.

Thankfully, she is fine now. Recovering at home and counting her blessings.

Me? I am making a conscious effort to remember to keep mine where they belong….. at the forefront of the line.

snipettes of life

• Mr. Spie is away for a week -- a combination of pleasure and business. How did we celebrate? Home bound with two kids down with fever over this weekend.

• I will be finished with "outside of the home" work in 7 days and my new "free" time is already spoken for.

• Just realized that my first triathlon race of the season (a HIM) is about 4 months away. Perhaps I need to extend my time on the bike soon.

• As gross as Hamburger Helper is nutritionally -- it really does taste good.

• I was "coerced" into a Facebook account for my soon to be former job. Not really sure what I want to do with it. I prefer to keep tabs on people using my husband's account -- anonymity ROCKS!

• I find that even without children present, I gravitate towards children's programming. My current faves? Phinneas and Ferb and Johnny Test.

• I was kicked out -- (oops I mean released) after three months of physical therapy for a pain in my rear last week.

• The pain is still there and it is not one of my relations.

• Finally, I have made a pact to have a drama free February~JOIN ME!

Shoes

These past couple months I have been distracted by shoes.

Despite what you may think, it was not the footwear fantasy that you all imagine.

In September, I was offered the opportunity to have a new pair of shoes. In the box, they looked great, matched with the outfits in my closet. They fit my needs. I agreed to take them.

Initially they fit. As I walked around in the store, they looked fabulous. In my head, I was already imagining what these shoes could do for me.

Days passed and I wore the shoes often. Sometimes they were comfortable. Other times they pinched or rubbed. After a while, they really started to feel uncomfortable. Convinced that I was not wearing the shoes correctly, I made changes to how I wore the shoes.

I added trouser socks.

The shoes still rubbed.

Perhaps it was my feet?

I added thicker socks.

The shoes still rubbed.

Finally, I realized that it was not my feet.

I had many shoes that did not hurt my feet.

It was not the shoes.

There was nothing wrong with the shoes. They still looked great and would be a wonderful addition to any person’s wardrobe.

My feet were just not made for these shoes.

Of course, I am not talking about shoes; I am talking about a job.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In September, I was offered a part-time position that seemed to fit my family’s schedule. Taking this position would help out my church and many friends, which was a win-win in my opinion.

Unfortunately, while I was fulfilling the obligations of the job, I was unable to fulfill the obligations and needs of my family, which really is non-negotiable.

As good as they made me feel on the inside, they just were not working for me and others outside

– so the shoes are going back to the store.

And soon my shoes will once again become comfortable*

*and I will get back to my irregular blogging

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!