We've Come a Long Way, Baby

Month 8. Week 33. Day 220-something of Ironman Training. How we got here -- I'm not exactly sure. But we're here!

Never in a million years would I have imagined or guessed I'd be where I am today. To the left is a photo of me changing my first tube in the second week in November. I started practicing this, since I was injured and couldn't ride for a few weeks.

At this point in the season, I've left behind thousands of yards in pools and lakes; hundreds of miles on the bike and on foot; and countless drops of sweat and hours of hard work all over the Bay Area. And I've not regretted a single one. It's remarkable looking back and seeing how far we've come and I just can't express enough gratitude and appreciation for it all.

Last Tuesday, we had a short bike/run brick. The majority of us were in disbelief that we "only" had a 30-minute bike ride, up to the North Gate of Mount Diablo. I hopped off my bike immediately after for a "quick" 2-mile run through Walnut Creek and clocked in at about 18 minutes. It was awesome to see my progress and how well my body responded to the brick; I promptly rewarded it with a mini-yoga / stretch session and lots & lots of water. Oh, and the sashimi salad and yummy sushi rolls with the Team afterward are always the best.

Thursday, we had a 7-mile run on calendar for the CAN/LOU teammates, and an 8-mile run for the Vineman-bound folks. I always forget that it takes me not less than 3 miles to warm-up on a run so I felt a little discouraged starting out -- only to realize that the first 3 miles of our El Capitan/Iron Horse loop through San Ramon were on a slight incline. Without fail though, after settling into my rhythm, I found my form and negative split my way to the finish. Michelle, Phil, Kathryn, Marina & I all finished just in time to catch the tail end of Game 7 of the NBA Finals and enjoy a pint at the local Hopyard.

Saturday was a trip. I met with Nick, Kristie, Carolyn & Tiffany at Lake Del Valle in Livermore to knock out the 1-hr open water swim we had scheduled. After realizing I was parked in the wrong lot (about a half an hour early + a one power nap later), I found my bearings (and the dock) and hopped right in -- sans wetsuit! I felt just fine getting acclimated to the water temp; it was actually very refreshing for a warm spring morning. Off the fasties went, while Tiff chilled on the dock. Literally. There were some cross-winds a-brewing and this would foreshadow something scary for me later. This was my first open water swim without any buoys, support kayaks or any real sense of other humans around me. I kept on and sighted the trees in the distance, just as I was used to doing in prior swims. Then I sighted what appeared to be two yellow buoys in the distance -- I discovered they were Nick's and Kristie's heads (they were wearing the same exact yellow ORCA swim caps I had on). Needless to say, those buoys went back underwater and I was again left without any kind of in-water landmark to spot. I felt good for the first 15-20 minutes or so, but then the little-me in a big-lake syndrome hit me head-on. I was by myself. If something happened to me, who would know? If some huge fish came up and ate me, who would be there to see it? I paused and lightly treaded water from where I was. Just then, a speedboat came by, creating some large wakes that smacked me in the face. And then I looked around and couldn't see Nick, Kristie or Carolyn anymore. I also noticed that it wasn't just the boat making the current. The cross-winds made the water conditions really choppy and I suddenly became afraid the current would take me away. It was then that I decided to turn around and high-tail it back to the dock. As I'd pull my arm up after a stroke and breathe, I'd feel water splash across my face and would almost panic because I thought some underwater creature or person was right behind me! Turns out, it was that pesky wind, blowing around anything and everything around me. I tried not to panic or freak out. Remember, I was not in a wetsuit and far less buoyant than what I was used to. I found a cluster of trees atop a mountain to sight. So I maintained focus on those for as long as I could. Nice, long strokes, Maria... I thought to myself. You've swam in open water plenty of times before, and faced things seemingly scarier than this. You can do this. You ARE doing this. I picked up a pace that felt quick, yet comfortable and consistent. I still felt like I was being chased by some shark or motivated to get to my destination out of fear -- but something felt fluid about my stroke. I was focused and in the zone.

Eventually, I made it back to the dock (and naturally, pulled a negative split), completing about a mile's worth in that choppy water. I was so relieved to be back, but immediately thought back to that super-stroke I had going for those few brief minutes out there. I have it in me, I thought. I discovered my race pace and I kinda liked it.

As soon as everyone was back, we toweled off and immediately hopped back into our cars to head for a flat(ter) bike course: starting at Foothill High School in Pleasanton. Yes -- this is a site of numerous memories for me. Not only is it the high school I graduated from back in '02; it's also the location of about 4 hours worth of trying to get comfortable on clipless pedals. The last time I was here, I literally could not get past my mental block of clipping both feet into the pedals, for fear of hurting myself as badly as I had back in November (which put me off the bike for like 2 weeks). This time, we were facing "just a quick 30-mi bike ride" and it was a small enough group that I didn't even think twice about hopping on the saddle and going for a ride to Sunol and back.

The majority of the ride up to Sunol through Calaveras Road was a gradual climb. Nothing terribly difficult; it made me a little anxious for the descend ~ but it turned out to be just fine. At one point, I lost count of the number of Lotuses that zoomed past us on the descend. For a second, I thought, if I'm going to get hit by a car today, it'd be pretty cool if it were one of these.

There was a section along Calaveras that gave me a fantastic opportunity. There I was, with no cars or other bikes around me. It was sort of a rolling terrain, but I gunned it on the pedals. I upshifted and pushed, getting my heart rate up to the 160s and I felt great. My legs felt fluid and strong and despite not normally going that fast or summoning up that kind of power from within me -- it felt natural. I wasn't afraid or tentative. I was committed. Again, it only lasted for a brief moment. We were headed by the freeway, and there were all kinds of uncertain sections of the road and oncoming cars, so I took it back down. Ended at a nice easy pace and completed the ride in about 2 hours and 20 mins. Enjoyed our usual tasty In-N-Out alongside a recovery drink.

Sunday, I was up at the reasonable hour of 7:30 a.m. to meet Michelle & Kathryn to carpool to Lafayette. Ah yes, visiting my other alma mater, Saint Mary's College, tucked away in the hills of Moraga. We had a scheduled 14-mi fast finish run (or 2 hr and 40 mins, whichever came first) for CAN/LOU; and 18-mi run (or 3 hrs) for Vineman. I took it nice and easy in the beginning, staying in line with my 4:1 run/walk. Coach Mike was quick to remind me to UP my cadence. It's a weird feeling to increase your turnover with your legs, without actually increasing your speed. But if you think about it -- you're changing your form. If it doesn't feel weird, you're not doing anything to change it :)

The day got hot on the blacktop. But I kept up with my salt, water and calorie intake. It was great running into Joan right outside of Rheem Blvd in Moraga. I hadn't seen her since she SAVED me during my first century ride during Clearlake weekend. She told me, Here's the part where it gets difficult for most people, but you'll be fine. I thought she was referring to the training season. But she meant the course! I was thankful for the shaded areas and enjoyed them wherever I could. I stopped at Moraga Commons to top off my water bottle, and kept on up one more hill, reaching the mile 7 turnaround. I was feeling pretty tired by this point, with the sun blazing overhead and running this one on my own.

I took little bites of my 2x caffeine jet blackberry Gu and trudged on to find my groove. Before I knew it, I had exceeded 10 miles on the Garmin and thought - oh shoot! Time to pick it up! I went from running at an easy/long pace of 10:30-10:40 mins/mile to 9:15-9:30 mins/mile for the final four miles. I booked it from there on -- and with high cadence to boot! Sun, no sun. Shade, sweat, salty residue on my nose. My body felt like a machine again and I felt energized, fluid and consistent. I still took my walk breaks every four minutes, but starting up again wasn't even an issue. I couldn't believe how fast those final miles were flying by. I zoomed past the start of the trail in Lafayette and kept going at my tempo pace until I reached the parking lot, completing more than 14 miles in 2 hours and 40 minutes exactly. I was a very happy camper, and once again truly amazed at the reserves my body was holding for the fast finish.

For a moment -- during each of the sports over the weekend, I saw a glimpse of what could be. I can be swift and powerful and focused. With my blinders on; unstoppable.

Truth be told, we all are wishing for the perfect race day. But a lot of **** can happen in 17 hours. It's just impossible to predict the weather conditions, other swimmers, cyclists & runners; nutritional mishaps; technical malfunctions with the bike; mood swings & 'Tourette's' getting in the way. But what I wish for the most ~ is that I'm able to adapt to whatever my day brings me. And thankfully (by some miracle of the big guy upstairs), I've been thrown all kinds of curveballs this season that have made me more resilient, more adaptable & more confident that I CAN get back up and keep going. No matter what. The tough moments pass, the walls get broken down, and you're left with an iron will and the fortitude to go on. So when I say we've come a long way, I particularly refer to the determination, tenacity, dedication (and a little bit of insanity) we've built up, that gets us to wake up each morning, go at it some more, and not to be afraid. This journey has taught us to believe in ourselves.

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Week #32 Workout Summary: [Recovery Week]

Swim: 1 hour and 0 minutes
Bike: 3 hours and 0 minutes
Run: 4 hours and 0 minutes
Core/Strength: 0 hours and 15 minutes
Total Workout: 8 hours and 15 minutes