Wildflower Training Weekend: 1/2 WAY TO IRON!

Let me tell you the tale of my first "camping trip," which also happens to coincide with my first crack at the long-awaited and heavily-anticipated Half-Ironman Triathlon... on the renowned Avia Wildflower Long Course at Lake San Antonio. It boasts its status as one of the toughest Half-Ironman courses in the nation.

This course is known for its challenging terrain, and has lovingly been given pet names for the obstacles it brings ~ spots like "Nasty Grade" on the bike course, a 1000 ft uphill climb at an average 7% grade over a distance of 5 miles. Or the 2-mile climb of trails along the run course upon reaching mile 4, where you're eventually taken into "The Pit", a 2-mile descend that takes you out and back -- just before leading you to the end of 70.3 miles of racing.

This is what I was in store for on Saturday, and let me tell you: It was an exhilarating ride.

I arrived at the Lake on Friday afternoon with my band of Ironmates (Coach Dave, Coach Doug, Arlene & Kristin) in our mobile oasis, [and despite our wild and wacky drive over, complete with a tire blow-out by the city of Morgan Hill] we arrived safely and immediately set up camp at Redondo Vista and commenced with bike/gear checks.

After dinner with my Mentor Group, I got ready to hit the hay early. I surprisingly got an excellent 8 hours of sleep in the ol' camper, despite the chilly temps. I dreamt well and had some calming and positive visualizations in my head in preparation for my 'race day'. I had been struggling with a number of stressors all week and getting a dose of calm as I slept was just what I needed.

I woke up at 5 a.m. feeling refreshed (and lucky, to not have been subjected to Coach Dave's blaring sounds of Scottish Bagpipes as the Team's special wakeup call all throughout the campsite). It paid off to room with 2/5 of the coach staff!

It was pitch dark and we all made our way to the transition area, with headlamps in tow. We had to setup our transition areas pretty much "by candlelight". Kind of not knowing where I was, much less the proximity to the lake or the roads could have very well freaked me out, but instead, I just continued to get ready, and remained calm and focused. I had a few mentors and teammates ask me if I was really nervous. I actually wasn't. I think the best way I could describe it would be to call it a calm readiness. Ready to see what the day would bring me and to embrace whatever that was.



After getting body-marked with our race numbers, sunscreen sprayed, and suited up, we headed to the dock to prepare for a 1.2 mile swim. With no fear or hesitation, I jumped right in! And then... the siren went off!



A mass start of about 80 of us, I took my time settling into my stroke and sighting regularly to make sure I stayed on course. I took many moments to take in the beautiful sunrise. As I'd lift my head to the side to breathe, I'd peek out at the sun and mountains. I was in just the right place too, with teammates up ahead and some behind, so I never felt lost or alone in the open lake. The swim was utterly amazing and I felt alive. Before I knew it, I had already come up on the red buoy, indicating our turnaround. I continued stroking consistently and even felt stronger by this point. Soon, in the distance, I could see the dock again, and just minutes later, I was being pulled up by our volunteers onto the dock. I had just swam 1.2 miles!!

One of my teammates, Cori, was just behind me walking from the dock and had swam not only her farthest distance, too, but conquered some major demons and was overwhelmed by how proud of herself she was and started to tear up. I recognized that emotion all too well and took a moment hug her and tell her how excited for and proud of her I was, too. I live for moments like that, where I can witness greatness and accomplishment right in front of me.

Soon after, we were back at transition and ready to be stripped of our wetsuits. One more layer of sunscreen, popped on the helmet and swapped shoes, and off I went onto the bike course.



Just a few miles in (maybe 2-3) and we were greeted with our first hill: Beach Hill, with a grade of about 4%. I pushed through and took my time and felt great once I reached the top. I had a timer set to alert me every 15 minutes so I could refuel with my concoction (a heavily-concentrated Carbo-Pro + Gatorade), chased with H20. Unfortunately, I had felt a looming headache coming on. Not from any type of dehydration, but instead, it had a similar sensation to a brainfreeze -- a sharp pain along my forehead. Perhaps it was the headwind going straight for my face, as I just returned from the water? At any rate, I continued on and made sure I hydrated and fueled regularly.



The rest of the terrain consisted of rolling hills, and some flats. It was a gorgeous course and I could see budding remnants as to why the course got its name, Wildflower. At about Mile 30, I had to make a pit stop, which is also where our SAG Vehicle (and awesome volunteers, Claudia & Meenu) were hanging out. They told me they had just received instruction to advance all cyclists at that point forward. Our bike ride wasn't over, but in order to make a time cutoff, I needed to be at a certain spot at a specific time. My heart leapt as I heard the news but that sense of calm came over me again and I refused to beat myself up over something that could not be controlled. Another teammate, Jen, and I were advanced forward to the bottom of Nasty Grade, at Mile 40-42. By this point, I took this experience as a sign and meant-to-be moment that I was to tackle this grade with fresh legs and a positive, refreshed outlook. And so I did.



Just as I started to pedal up Naciemiento Lake Road, the start of the climb, Honoree Captain Liz rode by and with her most energetic and enthusiastic voice, shouted "Is that Maria?! I'm so glad I got to meet you here! Are you ready for this climb?? Remember that for every person you see on this hill, whether they pass you or are right behind you -- they carry this energy that will PULL you to the top!" Those words stuck in my head all throughout Nasty Grade, and let me tell you... I kicked the 'ASS' out of NASTY! I just maintained my strong & steady / smooth & steady mentality and when it got extra steep, muscled through it. More sweat would bead down my face, but I thought to myself -- how thankful I am and should be to be outside at this moment, on this beautiful day, to be able to feel the sun on my face and see all these wildflowers in the distance. Several more pumps and pulls with the quads and hamstrings and I was at the false summit. Hah, not the best term to use (or even think about) during a climb, but it was the perfect stop to put an aid station and my next 15 minute refueling stop was here again. So I took a moment, wiped the sweat from my brow, took some swigs of my bottles and prepared for more climbing.

Unfortunately, I was still experiencing that same headache -- which I would later conclude was the result of having my helmet on too tight (it turned into a small bruise along the top of my forehead). These next few climbs were not nearly as steep but I knew what was coming next -- a -6% grade descend (what some cycling enthusiasts would refer to as a 'screaming downhill'). So as I peered over the top of the hill of Mile 44, I shifted over to the big ring, prepared to pedal through it and just let myself go. Off! I went down the hill. It was exhilarating! The best part about this descend is that I could actually see where I was going and where I would end up, and there was nothing scary about it! Instead, I just held on, and embraced the speed I was picking up, the wind cooling all the heat I had generated during the climb, and just went for it with no fear. I noticed Jen about midway through the descend (she had been reluctant about the downhill portion), and was SAG'd forward so she could walk her bike down the hill. I understood her hesitation and could recognize again, that we all have our own demons to face.



After a few more rolling hills and a couple brief refueling stops later, I found myself back at transition again, just as the day started to heat up some more. Captain Tony immediately greeted me at transition and was kind enough to relieve me of my bike. I quickly changed to my running shorts, threw on my cap and water belt and brand new Nikes, and off I went to get this run going.

Starting out, my spirits were still up but I had no idea what was ahead. 60% of the run course was on a trail. I often find pros and cons to trail running. Softer ground and better for your legs and feet ~ but oftentimes more hilly. And boyyy was this the case for the Wildflower Run Course. I had decided to use a 4:1 run/walk strategy; and if I encountered some longer hills, I would take more time to walk them and then speed up my run pace on the flats. I shot a 2x caffeine Gu to get my momentum flowing, and at Mile 2 of the run, I was greeted by a familiar face. It was Tiffany. We hadn't ran together since our last marathon in October, so it was great to catch up and talk through some of our looming doubts about the run ahead. The day got hotter, and the hills started to build. Our first water stop was coming up and I couldn't believe it -- we had just arrived at Mile 3. Only the third mile?!, I thought. It had felt like five already. But before I let any demons or ugly voices creep up, I pounded some more water and took it one foot in front of the other. The gorgeous lake we had swam in hours before was the view to our left and the thought of jumping right back in was too tempting.

At about Mile 4, we were greeted with a steep 400 ft climb that would later bring us into a 200 ft descend on foot. My liquid calories were starting to slosh around in my stomach and I was starting to get cranky in the heat. Tiff and I both were getting tired (she was also starting to get calf cramps and knee issues) but we were delighted to hear a familiar voice coming up from behind us. It was Coach Sedonia! She was designated to sweep the course and bring in the last runner(s). I kept a few feet ahead as Tiff and Sedonia chatted, but man... I was getting weary, with no sign of improvement coming along anytime soon. I popped a salt tablet since I was losing some water and salt under the sun, but could still feel the sloshing and 'empty' feeling in my gut. I was running on low. And then BAM! Here came my wall.

Mile 5. Halfway through this monster hill, with nothing but dirt trails around us, and I was in the back of the back of the run. I turned around and started to power-walk backwards up the hill, and looked down at Sedonia and Tiffany. "I've hit my wall, guys, and I don't want to do this anymore," I said.

It was an unmistakable moment. I was in the lowest depths of my wall and I wanted OFF that trail ASAP. It was then that I asked myself, "WHY am I doing all of this? WHAT is all of this for, and what is the freaking point?!" [The answers to these questions would later reveal themselves to me and are found below...] All I wanted to do was whine and pout and complain. I was tired and hot and felt gross after nearly six straight hours of being outside and burning all my physical and mental energy. AND I still had a ways to go on the run. And these were my thoughts during mile 5 of 13.1! If that's not discouraging, I don't know what is.

But somewhere along the way, after arriving at our next water stop, we saw Head Coach Dave (a.k.a. one of my RV-roommates for the weekend) on his mountain bike, whose presence sort of gave me a looming feeling of worry ~ kind of like a, "watch out, he's going to crack that whip and you'd better speed up"). The three of us girls dumped ice cubes down our bike jerseys (which we ran in), and under our hats to cool our heads, at the aid station. A new thought came to me... you know, we're kinda close, we can't stop. I had stopped looking down at my watch at this point, quit with the 4:1 run/walk, and just literally focused on putting one foot in front of the other. If I had momentum to pick up the pace and RUN, I did. If the onset of more hills came along, I power-walked.

Coach Dave rode alongside me for quite some time, telling me if I wanted to push myself a little, now was a good opportunity. He said, "This race and this day isn't for anyone else but you. So if you want to prove something to yourself, you shouldn't hold back." We talked some more [I mentioned getting SAG'd forward on the bike, and he was unfamiliar with that specific cutoff time, saying there must have been some confusion and it may have been too early to pull me forward, which brought me some relief]. And after awhile, I sort of forgot about the mental anguish and tiredness I was feeling back at that seemingly endless hill at Mile 5. I hadn't realized it, but I had overcome the wall and was back to moving forward and getting as much out of that half-marathon as I could. Moments later, we reached the third water stop. And one of our Honorees, Laura, was there to greet me. She offered me some salty Pringles -- which totally hit the spot. Seeing her again, reminded me that being out in the sun and running these hills is only a fraction of what she has gone through over the course of 20 years, battling cancer, treatments -- on again and off again. I still felt tired, but it gave me some real perspective. A few more heavy swigs of the water, and Coach Dave told me to keep on going. He would later go back to check on and ride alongside Tiffany and Sedonia.

So I hit the trail again. A few steps into it, I saw another friendly and familiar face that would bring me not only more perspective, but rejuvinated my enthusiasm for what I'm doing, how we are making a difference, and a reminder of the importance of the journey. And that person ~ who again showed her face at the right time... was Honoree Captain Liz. We ran when it was flat, and we walked when it was steep. During one of our very last descends along Lynch Road, Liz was feeling some knee pain and I, calf and IT band tightness. So we took it easy on that downhill. We reminded each other why and how we met in the first place ~ to make a difference for others, give back to those in need, and to push ourselves beyond what we thought was possible. And low and behold, we were doing those very things in the last moments of our run. I was again so touched by our conversation and smiled because it all was so true. And just like that... we came up upon transition again. I could hear, see and feel my finish line approaching.

Liz told me to go for it, that it was my moment to enjoy. So I took it home -- I sprinted as fast as I could [again, where this energy came from after hours and miles now behind me, I have NO idea]... and I finished strong! I had completed the Wildflower Long Course and I was now Halfway to Iron.



I basically spend 90% of my time with IronTeam and all this triathlon business absolutely OUT of my comfort zone. Those of you that really know me and see how well I keep it together in most other aspects of my life probably wouldn't recognize the klutziness, chaos and hilarity that ensue when I'm squeezing into a wetsuit, within a 1-mile radius of a bike, and trying to coordinate myself during a brick workout. But sure enough, as we now reach the 1/2 way point of our season, peering over the second installment of challenges, excitement, & highs and lows that are soon to come our way (comparable to what went through my mind peering over Nasty Grade's descend), I'm starting to see some incredible progress and growth within myself.

I just couldn't believe at the tail end of the race on Saturday that parts of me actually started to feel comfortable -- started to get used to the triathlon way of life and accustomed to being a triathlete. Never thought I'd see the day.



I soaked in these precious moments of reaching my finish of the Half-Ironman, as I sipped my Recovery Drink, threw on my flip-flops and waited for our final finishers to come through. I was in the presence of greatness: support, camaraderie, laughter, tears, accomplishment. True endurance athletes who pushed through their very own walls, dealt with the day's obstacles, and still managed to have shining smiles on their faces. I returned to the lake to soak my leg muscles for a makeshift ice bath (complete with musical medleys by Captain Tony and Coach Doug who themselves jumped into the lake).



This is one of Marina, Doug, Belinda, Cori & I.

The whole Team went on to eat a good meal (provided by LLS), and celebrate all that we achieved that day. Good times were had, many stories were shared, and yes, we have now become that much closer as a family. I'm so thankful to all our volunteers and the course support we had out there throughout the day. None of the success we had would have been made possible without each and every person who volunteered their time, energy, cooking skills (and loaner full-sized grill & oven set ~ thanks, Susie!) if not for you all and your talents & generosity.



By Sunday morning, after another full night of sleep, I awoke to a whole community of people: A Family of Teammates and Friends, gathered 'round the fire with cups of hot cocoa and coffee in their hands, reminiscing with the glow on their faces (yes, from the tequila shots from the night before -- but also from the pride and joy they felt by what they had accomplished on Saturday). I was truly content and so full of happiness and gratitude by what we put out there on the Wildflower Course, and the new memories and lessons we now take home with us.



Here's one of Coach Dave, Coach Doug, Coach Sedonia, Mascot Belinda, Coach Mike & I ~ all sporting the Ironman Underoos...



I had asked back at THE WALL -- why do I do this? What is it all for? And on Saturday night, I figured it out. This is the new mantra I gave myself:

Today, I pushed myself. Today, I accomplished and exceeded my own expectations. What could have been just an ordinary day -- instead, became one where I struggled, doubted, overcame & succeeded. And without those uncertain moments and experiences of falling down and getting back up, it's impossible to grow and have the ability to look back and see the long way you've come and how far you can go. Tonight, I celebrate all this day has brought me. Tonight, I celebrate my victory as well as those of my IronTeam Family.



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Week #19 Workout Summary:

Swim: 1 hour and 0 minutes
Bike: 5 hours and 0 minutes
Run: 3 hours and 0 minutes
Core/Strength: 0 hours and 30 minutes
Total Workout: 9 hours and 0 minutes

IronTeam 2010's Fundraising Progress to Date: $129,020
My Fundraising Progress to Date: $5,505