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.

***
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

Why I know we're not training for Plasticman

Back in November, Coach Dave told the Team:

"We are training for Ironman, not Plasticman, and I mean that in a very literal way. Strike a match under a plastic spoon. Watch it curl up and see the plume of acrid black smoke that rises into a toxic cloud above you. Strike a match under a steel fork, forged from Iron, and you see it will begin to glow are vibrant orange yet keep its shape. In fact Iron is hardened by flame."

After returning from Clearlake last weekend ~ and upon the completion of 3/4 of an Ironman (118+ miles in one weekend), I came home feeling challenged; tired; sore -- but equally refreshed; fulfilled & proud of my accomplishments, and well as those of my teammates. Here I was, prepared for a full-on, cozy Recovery Week. However, this was not the case, and certainly not on the training calendar!

While I did take my Monday off to rest, recover and do nothing but put my feet up at home, stretch and treat myself to the simple luxuries in life (a pedicure, complete with a masque and hot stone calf massage), a glass of wine and some time to run a few errands and catch up with some girlfriends ~ I was in store for a few more tasks later in the week.

Tuesday, I was back on the bike. I gave myself little to no option as to whether I would turn around running the other way, so I gave Nick my bike to handle and bring to Walnut Creek later that evening. I met up with the Team outside of Sports Basement, and we had some high-cadence drills to do, to and from the North Gate of Mount Diablo. The terrain is a steady climb, but nothing too steep. For those of you outside the East Bay -- this is Mount Diablo. Gives a whole new meaning to "Devil Mountain"...



Despite not really having the desire to ride that evening, I was amazed at how quickly my body had recovered, actually. I bounced right back and was able to get my cadence up to 90-100 rpm with no problem (a portion of which was over rolling hill terrain), but it was remarkable that I had zero issues with riding that day. It was a super short ride, compared to what we had just been through. We were done in about an hour, yet it felt good to loosen up my legs and get them moving again.

A 90-minute firm/deep tissue massage on Thursday was just what the doctor ordered. My massage therapist noticed some trigger points near my trapezius muscles (neck, tops of the shoulders, center of the upper back) -- which completely makes sense because of my positioning on the bike. Also found some knots in my lats (a.k.a. my 'swim muscles'). I felt like jelly afterward and hydrated like no other to flush out all the toxins and lactic acid worked up after the massage. Ahhhh...



Friday I was headed to Shadow Cliffs in Livermore immediately after work to meet the Team. I used the public park restroom to change directly from my casual Friday jeans to my swimsuit. It was finally time to test for the Shadow Cliffs Orcas Swim Club, which enables me to swim outside the lane lines in the lake there. Most of my East Bay teammates are already members and my paperwork and fees had already been submitted. It was just time for me to test and do a couple laps in the lake without a wetsuit.

It's funny that I had been perfectly fine with open water swimming (no irrational fears or concerns) UNTIL Clearlake. The vegetation and creepy undergrowth down below threw me for a loop last weekend, and so going into Shadow Cliffs having had that experience, proved a little intimidating to me... Alas, I had to do it! Kathryn, Erin and I went into the lake together in swimsuits, tri tops and shorts, while the boys (Rocky, Nick, Phil & Haakon got all cozy and warm in their neoprene suits). Feeling the moss below my feet was a little icky (normally I wear booties with my wetsuit so I'm oblivious to the lake floor). I looked down below and there were SO many plants! The lake floor was covered in trees and weeds and... I don't even know what. Memories of the Clearlake underwater forest came flooding back to me, and I just tried to convince myself that the moss in Shadow Cliffs was nothing but green, mossy, retro shag carpet. It's just carpet, Maria. It's not going to hurt you. It looks cozy, doesn't it? It's carpet. -- I kept repeating to myself.

Our test began and I took the opportunity to practice drafting while swimming. I followed Kathryn's toes directly in front of me and it was pretty cool. We got back to shore and I felt great. Refreshed by the water temperature, actually.

It didn't even occur to me that not everyone would pass the swim test. There were some gentlemen in our wave who came to shore panting and out of breath. Those administering the test were reluctant to pass them or give them the coveted yellow cap, and allow them to swim beyond the restricted area. Times like these that I forget how often I swim and how much I've improved since November. Had I taken this same test back then, I certainly would have been freaked out by the challenge of swimming that distance in open water (300 yds in 10 mins).



After switching caps, Nick and Rocky joined us and we went back in for the actual workout (Phil and Haakon had already started their swim). We were to sight and swim toward this rockpile and back (for a total of about a mile). After watching Rocky and Nick imitate the backflip high jump with the lane line, we set out to do our swim. I fought more of the 'underwater swamp thing demons' and before I knew it, I couldn't even see underwater anymore. I was swimming in open water for the first time WITHOUT a wetsuit! And without the safety net of being as buoyant. And it was actually kinda great! The lake seemed pretty vast (if you were to swim the entire thing, you'd actually get the Ironman swim distance of 2.4 miles), and although Kathryn was somewhat nearby but for the most part, I was on my own. I just kept the boys in sight and tried to find my rhythm. Got to the rockpile, high-fived Kathryn for being the gals and only IronTeamers (in addition to Erin, who flew by - swimming is her strongest sport) to swim wetsuit-less and I think impressed the heck out of the guys.

We made it back and I had completed the mile distance in about 40 minutes. I was happy with my time, considering it was one of my harder swims without the wetsuit. I collapsed into bed and slept so well after getting my body to do all that work.

No rest for the weary, however, as I had a wake-up call of 5:00 a.m. on Saturday. The Ladies of IronTeam had a 7:00 a.m. start time for The Tour of the East Bay Alps bike ride, starting at Heather Farms Park in Walnut Creek.



Ah, the East Bay Alps. I'll tell you now (as I told Carol during the ride), that I was afraid of what we would see and what the climbs would be like. But for whatever reason, there was some driving force compelling me to get up on Saturday, put on my bike shorts, and head out the door. A big part of of it was that my Team would be there and I made it a point to thank them for getting my rear out of bed and back on the bike so early in the morning for such a daunting task. I mean, what do you visualize when you hear the word Alps? :)

After properly affixing my aerobottle to my bars this time (thanks, Kathryn!), I headed out into the unknown. We rode some of the bike trails (shared with runners, dog-walkers and strollers = prepare for the unexpected), before heading up Ygnacio Valley Road in Walnut Creek and off into downtown Clayton. So far, this seemed to be familiar territory for me. And then.... came Morgan Territory. Ew, it makes me cringe just saying it!



The gradual ascends weren't so bad. They were manageable. But I barely blinked and before I knew it, I was doing some serious climbing. Thankfully, I had Patty with me to keep me preoccupied. We'd have a conversation, pant up the hill, and then commiserate on how hard it was. Although it's all YOU doing the climbing and the sports we're doing are all very independent, it makes such a huge difference to have someone next to you on the road or in the lake, going through the same thing -- who can understand the pain and sense of satisfaction you're experiencing too. And that's one of the biggest reasons I'm so lucky to have IronTeam.

The only way I can really describe Morgan Territory Road is to say it would be a climb, a sharp turn, then a climb. A climb, another sharp turn, and then another climb. It would just go up and UP -- with no real let-up or flattening out of the road. The roads tucked away back there are narrow too so thank goodness the only real cars that would come through were our Sports & Gear (SAG) Vehicles.



During one particular climb, my mind was really tested. Patty had been a little further behind me and it just seemed to be me on the road, with no one else in sight. I kept pushing and pushing through the hill (if you hesitate for one second, you'll fall over). My heart was pounding, the sweat was building up underneath my helmet, my neck was so strained -- with my left side in particular just pulling and aching. I told myself -- Afan, the next clearing of the road you see, give yourself a break. You need it and you deserve it. You've been climbing for about a continuous hour and you should allow yourself a short break. Then I reached a small patch on the right side of the road. I unclipped really fast and came to a stop. RELIEF. I just stood there, letting my heart rate go slowly back down, stretched my neck and back, sipped some water and took an Endurolyte. These are freakin' hard! I thought to myself. I saw Kathryn up ahead and she was actually walking her bike up the hill ahead of me. I had wondered whether she also had experienced the same mental game I did; and I felt tempted to follow suit and walk on up it too. Unfortunately, and to my surprise, she had slipped from the loose gravel and fallen right where I was standing. She landed on her hip and decided to walk her bike up just to get to a more level area, before she'd hop RIGHT back on. "You ok, Kathryn?!" I yelled to the top. "Yeah, I'm fine. Good thing I only landed on my hip. I'm going to keep on going." I was inspired by her fortitude and willingness to get back in the saddle after that. So despite the temptation to walk up the hill, I mustered up whatever I had and got back on the bike to scale the hill. No walking. Pure cycling.

There was a small descend after that hill, followed by a really sharp turn and a quick ascend immediately following. It was tricky to maneuver, but I got out of there and prepared for the next climb. Training Captain Les came up behind me and told me the next rest stop was less than a mile away. I was now determined to finish this set of hills and just get to a safe place so I could unload and recharge my batteries. It was one of the longest half-miles ever; I thought I'd never get there. But sure enough, I saw a clearing and our Team Manager, Merla, standing there waving and cheering. Aloha, rest stop! How I've longed to see you.



I got there and my brain felt like mush. After using the restroom, topping off my bottles and taking another salt tablet, I entered whiney phase. "I don't want to do this anymore," I said to Coach Mike. Whyyy? Whaaaahh... Both he and Helen looked at me and said Maria, you don't always have to WANT to do something, and suggested that continuing the ride is just how it is and what I had to do next.

I thought about it, and knew that I always had (and have) an option. Sure, I can get in a car and be done for the day. Grab some lunch while everyone else is scaling the mountain. I don't HAVE to finish. But I would have been so disappointed in myself, which is a choice I knew would have been the wrong one.

Meanwhile, I turned and saw Patty sitting in a chair covered in blood and ice. What happened?! I asked her. She apparently also got caught in loose gravel (at that sharp turn) and fell, cutting up and injuring her arm and had to be taken to the hospital to have it cleaned and checked. She had also been nursing a knee aggravation and so riding further just wasn't in the cards for her. But her spirit and enthusiasm were still intact and in "typical IronTeam fashion," she would later join us post-ride for lunch and laughter -- when she could have just gone home. If that's not inspiring either, I don't know what is. Here I was, battling the mental game, with no injuries or anything physically wrong with me. My body felt fit as a fiddle (especially after giving my neck a rest and stretch and now loitering at the rest stop for 20 minutes).

But I was also afraid. There was this "screaming descend" the Team was talking about and it was the last thing I wanted to do. I'm comfortable more or less with going downhill, but when it's super steep, and over a long distance -- just the lack of control or knowing what to expect is what scares me. As I was telling this to Mike, Tony came up to me and said he would ride it with me. He wasn't even in cycling clothes - he was manning the SAG Vehicle for the day, and was now willing to change and hop on his bike (mix a bottle for fuel) and ride with me.

I was out of excuses. I collected myself and got back on the bike. Tony rode in front so I could sort of mimic some of his countersteering and speed down the hill. It was frightening, and my hands were getting tired from supporting the majority of my weight on the drops of the handlebars. We were flying down this hill and I didn't know when it was going to end. It was like being on a roller coaster except I was at the mercy of my own bike-handling & maneuvering, which actually made it worse! We saw another snake in the road on the way down, and I took moments to look up over the Livermore Valley and take in the view. But the road would just curve and I had to hug and hold on tight! We had a strong tailwind too so I didn't know if I was going to literally fly off the handle or what. Finally, we reached the bottom of this massive hill and once again, I was relieved to have reached the end in one piece. Tony gave me the next set of directions to get back to San Ramon and sent me on my merry way. Despite that being one terrifying hill, I was really happy to have him ride it with me.



I don't think I mentioned yet that it was a hot day. 87-degree air temperature, but hot hot HOT on the blacktop. I was really thankful to have my aerobottle with me and in stable condition (versus the jostling situation we had last week). Because it really kept me on top of my hydration. Haakon says that he takes a sip of water whenever he thinks about it. I think that's a great way to do it, and it's been working really well for me. And then I've kept up with taking a few sips of my superconcentrated Gatorade/Carbo-Pro mix every fifteen minutes, with one Endurolyte salt tablet every hour. It's great to have a nutrition plan that's working for me! These things are so hard to get down and "perfect". Especially when weather conditions change. I still have more experimenting to do, seeing as how we haven't really reached anything similar to what humidity conditions at Louisville will be like.

I was on my own for the rest of the stretch from Highland Drive to Blackhawk until I reached the final water stop in Danville. Former IronTeam members from previous seasons (Mike D, Becky, Nancy) were there to greet us, and it was great to see them and get some friendly insight on what their "East Bay Alps" experience was like last year. It was one of our harder workouts, they told me. Something about hearing that gave me comfort. Knowing it wasn't "just me" gave me relief. It was supposed to be difficult!

After fueling up and topping off, a small group of us headed back to Walnut Creek via San Ramon Valley Road. I wasn't sure about whether this route was on our original directions, but I followed the pack (in lieu of climbing to the summit of Mount Diablo) and after 6.5 hours, I finished 52 miles.



It was another long day, but I felt really good and proud of myself for sticking through it, working at it, and completing the ride I set out to do. And thanks to the pals of mine on IronTeam as well as the mental pushes and pats on the back I give myself from time to time, I made it through and succeeded another tough day.

I had said to myself earlier that morning that the only way to finish is if you start. Sometimes even the lessons you think you've learned before need some testing so that you can really understand their meaning and value. Sometimes you'll fall and will be faced with the decision of whether or not to get back up. Your mind and mental fortitude could be tested and you won't be sure whether to listen to your head or your body. Life is full of crossroads and tough moments, but it's how you deal with them and the attitude you keep that can be the difference of success or failure. And that's what this whole journey is about for me. This week & weekend ride was yet another example of how I know this is IRONMAN -- Not Plasticman! And by definition, I can really feel myself being molded and shapen into a tougher version of myself through these unforgettable experiences.

NOW -- On to Recovery Week!

***
Week #31 Workout Summary:

Swim: 1 hour and 15 minutes
Bike: 7 hours and 30 minutes
Run: 0 hours and 0 minutes
Core/Strength: 0 hours and 15 minutes
Total Workout: 9 hours and 0 minutes

IronTeam's Fundraising Progress to Date: $185,168
My Fundraising Progress to Date: $8,741

Going the Distance: 3/4 Ironman Training Weekend

I was going to wait a day or two to let things sink in from the weekend ~ but it's all so surreal that I need to start typing now to make sure I capture everything on paper. This is going to be a long one, so grab a glass of your favorite wine now. And maybe a snack.

Coach Dave said it would be an epic weekend, and in retrospect -- without any trace of doubt -- it was.

I've sat in an ice bath, dozed off for about two hours, eaten dinner, stretched and am now sitting at home in disbelief of what I just put my body & mind through. But the slight twinge in my neck and my rosy cheeks from the sun are quick to remind me that it was more than I would have ever imagined.



The weekend adventure started with a carpool. I met up with Haakon on Friday morning to head up north. We made a leisurely pitstop for lunch in the town of Winters, CA (which had THE best tri-tip sandwich I've ever had) and met up with Cori, Helen, Jen Jay, Patty & Carol. It was so pleasant to just sit, enjoy, load up on some more carbs and water, and anticipate and wonder what the rest of the weekend would hold for us. We eventually made our way up to the town of Clearlake to drop off our bikes and check into our hotel, The Anchorage Inn, in Lakeport. I think I was deprived of those token college spring break trips, because I enjoyed the HECK out of taking over an entire motel with our Team and having my friends just next door. One minute, I'm packing up my transition bag and trying to do "nutrition math", and the next, Coach Simon or Mentor Margaret are knocking on the door (or better yet, just walking right in) with some kind of distraction. Or Cori's shouting from across the parking lot. Chris throwing some eating utensils up and over the balcony to me so I can eat my pasta. And Phil asking me from the balcony across the way what I was eating and why. It was such a blast in a dysfunctional family sort of way and I loved it. The place wasn't an oasis (I think all the appliances in there were older than me), but it was a riot! Two nights (with early morning wake-up calls) were certainly not enough.







4:00 a.m. Saturday morning Sandy and I rise and shine -- nutrition bottles mixed; special needs bags packed; suited up and ready to go. Sandy snagged some temporary tattoos to channel some good energy for the long day. While she chose "Courage" and a dragon as symbols to put on her wrists, I put a character that symbolized "Soul" and stuck it on my left arm. I intended to put my entire heart and soul into the day and the mark on my arm acted as a good reminder to ensure that I would. Group caravan to Jeff & Janet Shaw's house, a.k.a. the Start/T1/Finish (wonderfully generous hospitality... and so much room for all of us!)





6:30 a.m. Early swim start for Group 1. We walked into the lake and I acclimated to the water fairly quickly. There was some kelp and weeds which kind of got in my way, but I figured as long as I was moving forward, I was moving away from it. I had decided from the very start that I was just going to take it one piece at a time. This was going to be a longer distance and the most time I had ever spent in open water. Clearlake is so vast, and to try and wrap your mind around swimming in this giant lake can be daunting. So my plan was to just follow and draft wherever possible, but keep an eye out for my general direction. The beginning of the swim felt smooth. I took whatever lessons I'd learned in previous weeks from our open water swims and thought this would be no different; I was only going to go a little further. I reached the first buoy and prepared to turn around. Sighting was working just fine; I had a general sense of direction. Goggles were fogging up a bit, swim cap was shimmying up my head, and I felt a little cough coming on. Smooth and steady, I thought to myself. Just relax and adjust the issue. It'll be just fine. I'm not going to feel perfect or flawless, but I can work with and do the best with what I have. A few minutes later after the turnaround (now with the sun shining on my right side - a.k.a. my breathing side), Coach Sedonia's head popped up from under the water and she asked me how I was doing. "Great!" I said. She told me I looked great, however reminded me to take it nice and easy -- that it would be a long day, so to take my time and watch my heart rate. Although I had anticipated a long day, it was such an important reminder so I heeded her advice and lengthened my stroke and kept it steady (in this photo: I'm in the center fixing my cap). The morning was crisp but refreshing.



The next thing I was supposed to sight was a gazebo in the distance. This landmark seemed so far away. But I kept reminding myself -- small pieces. There was essentially no one around me at this point. I didn't know who was ahead or who was behind me. It just felt like me in the middle of this massive lake. But for whatever reason, I didn't let my mind go to a dark place of worry or fear. I was just focused on getting to that gazebo. And soon after, I got there. Here was another turnaround. I stayed to the left to avoid oncoming traffic, but was unaware there was a current. I went to take a stroke at one point and felt more of the weeds underneath me. As I looked down underwater, I saw what appeared to be an entire forest of trees, plants, weeds, and kelp. This was my *oh SH*T I'm in open water* moment. I realized it, and with each stroke, I'd comb more of the weeds, get it stuck between my fingers, and bob my head up, covered in plants. I felt like the swamp thing and it was freaking me out. Even my zipper pull on the back of my wetsuit (which is normally looped and velcro-ed to the top) came undone so I had this lanyard dragging with my right arm. I'd go to shake it off, thinking it was the creepy seaweed but realized it was attached to me! Thankfully, I saw Sedonia again... Come on out of the reeds, Maria -- I had completely drifted to this section of the lake that no wonder, took me to that "forest". Of course, now that I am home, alive, and was NOT attacked by the plants, I can laugh about it. But there was something about SEEING what exactly was down under the lake (and what I imagined COULD have been living in there) that took me to a place that I had no choice BUT to talk myself out of. So I actually swam the rest of the way with my eyes closed, except to sight my next landmark. I still would feel more stringy plants catching my fingers, but I pushed through, convinced myself I would be fine and kept moving forward. And then, I saw the dock. It was in sight, and although I knew I was headed for more forest country down below, I was coming up on the end of my first 2-mile open water swim. I swam through the weeds, but this time, without hesitation, and I emerged out of Clearlake in about 1:37.



T1: I had to "quickly" get out of my wetsuit and booties, which proves tricky right after you come out of the water. You're a little disoriented, and maybe a little dizzy. So the last thing you are really prepared to do is take off and cinch down a neoprene/rubber stocking off of your wet body. I recited to myself, "slow is smooth, smooth is fast". Something I had remembered from our first Olympic-distance training tri back in January. I definitely wanted to get into dry clothes so I had to do a full change. I moved as fast as I could, but stayed patient with myself, so as not to panic or forget anything. This next segment was going to be long, and I didn't want to be without something super important. The essentials I always triple-check before a bike ride are helmet, shades, arm warmers, Garmin/Heart Rate Monitor, a spare tube/CO2/tire iron, and of course, NUTRITION. Everything seemed to check out, I did a final spray of sunblock, and hopped on the bike. I was off!

The big, bad, bike ride. I thought I had seen a good overview on Friday of the neighboring towns of Lucerne, Nice, Lower Lake, Lakeport, and others. But I was sure in for a whole lot more on Saturday.



The first hour of the ride felt good. Despite a lingering headache (still debatable as to whether it was from swimming with a tight swim cap, followed by clamping the helmet on my head immediately after ~ or slight dehydration, or a combination of the two)... I rode efficiently quick for the first hour and was really happy with my speed and time (of course, without going out too fast). The only thing I really ever watched was my heart rate for the majority of the ride. My lactate threshold is 169 beats per minute, so I ideally wanted to keep my heart rate at a 150 for the first half of the ride and 160 for the second half, with the hope of negative splitting. Unfortunately, I was in for an unexpected "surprise" after the first hour and a half or so.

As you can see on the above course map, the grade got super hilly -- some sections were gradual climbs. Others were really steep. At first, I didn't mind the climbing much. In a phrase, the hills were manageable. At first. But as I'd turn a corner after a steady climb, it would go on and get steeper. And then again. And again. These hills were the true definition of relentless. One thing I regretted was not taking a minute longer to really take in the gorgeous view of the lake from atop the mountains. I caught glimpses ~ which were amazing, but sweat would be dripping down my face and I would immediately have to keep my eye on the road and keep on climbing. Nutrition-wise, I was golden. Because it was an extra hot day, with definitely higher humidity than expected, I stayed on top of my hydration, electrolyte-intake (via Endurolytes), and my planned & marked four-hour bottle (of Gatorade & Carbo-Pro) worked like a charm + a pack of 1/2 dose caffeine Shot Bloks (my refill bottle was waiting for me in my special needs bag). What also helped promote regular and frequent hydration was installing an aero bottle (thanks, Jason!). Having the straw pretty much in front of my face reminded me to drink gulps often. However, we'll get to the "water bottle excitement" from the aero bottle a little later. (in this photo: Tony and I riding out some of the tougher hills)



Although I don't have a physical photo to share with you, I have the most VIVID picture in my mind of one particular climb. It had to be somewhere between miles 30 and 35. There was a big descend (so I was in my hardest gear to pedal down it) but literally SHOT straight back up. When I looked ahead, it was like a wall of concrete. So if you're not quick enough to downshift back to your lowest gear, you're in trouble. I tried to pedal through it, but there was actually a moment where if I had stalled or stopped pedaling for even half a second, I would have tipped right over. It was scary. It was one of those commit, commit, commit moments where you push through and hope for the best. I made it through and was back to climbing some more. Whenever possible, I would celebrate the small victories of reaching the top of each hill. Particularly for the steeper grades, I would keep repeating to myself: I can do it, I can do it; I'm doing it, I'm doing it! I'd reach the top, and would get a little teary-eyed by how freaking hard it was, but that I did it, and had to brace myself for more.



Ok, so by mile 35, I was angry. I won't beat around the bush. Tourette's zone had definitely come down upon me and I wasn't shy about uttering expletives under my breath. All I could think about were the facts: 1- The farthest distance I had ridden to date was 60 miles; 2- I'm tired and pissed off by mile 35; 3- How can I or will I ever ride 100 today? Thankfully, Coach Mike found me at a SAG stop and rode with me, telling me that the special needs bags and the giant IronTeam water stop was close by. I looked down at my watch, and wanted to be at the halfway point -- mile 50, in four hours (from the time I had started). Alas, this was not going to happen, especially because of all the climbing slowing me down. My emotions hit another peak and went from angry to discouraged to frustrated. I was mentally torn up inside and all I could think about was... "If this were my Ironman, I'd be pulled off the bike course. I'm not going to make it."

We rolled into the park in Lakeport at about mile 52 and I was utterly distraught. I couldn't even hold a conversation with anyone. My focus was lost and I did all I could to fight back the tears or fall apart in front of our volunteers who were generously topping off my water bottles, preparing cold towels to place on my neck, and cater to absolutely anything I needed or wanted upon arriving to the stop. I didn't know what to eat or drink or do. I used the restroom and took a moment to re-group. It was then that I reconciled the fact that timing, though not perfect or on par with my goal for the day, was really irrelevant. I came to Clearlake to go the distance, and damn it, I was going to finish it. How I picked up my state of mind and attitude, however -- would be the next thing to work on. (in this photo: our special needs bags / and what was in mine)





My friend, Joan, multi IM-finisher and the first person to ever tell me about IronTeam in the first place, happened to be at the water stop and asked me if I wanted her to ride with me. I still couldn't speak or respond; but she understood what I needed without me even needing to say anything. She suited up and got her bike ready, as I reached into my special needs for a chocolate chip cookie, a few Pringles, some more water and Endurolytes. I blew my nose and wiped the tears. It was time to break up the ride into smaller pieces, just as I had with the swim earlier in the day. And the only way I could finish was if I started back up again. So Joan and I ventured out, looking at it as a 30-mile out and back, returning back to special needs, then going from there. I had probably been told by at least three people that the rest of the course wasn't nearly as bad as the first half and that most of it was flat. Which was untrue. Sorry -- but it just wasn't accurate!

Just going back out onto the course, the first thing we were greeted with was a bumpy road. And we're not talking about little cracks and loose gravel. We're talking potholes, gouges in the road and just about anything that you can think of that would make a surface as rocky and rough as you can imagine. The best way I can describe what this did to me mentally, is to compare it to trying to walk and someone keeps pushing you. It thwarts your focus, messes with your head, frustrates you, and makes you want to get off your bike and throw a tantrum. I was literally taking the bumpy roads as a personal attack against me, and it wasn't pretty. To add insult to injury, we had to climb UP these roads and descend DOWN them. JOAN!! I would yell. This is not flat!!! She happily commiserated with me and I was so thankful to have her company (hah whether she or Mike, earlier in the day, had shared my sentiments... is probably a whole 'nother story. What can I say? Ironman training truly brings out ALL sides of you. The good, bad, and verrrry ugly). But you have to come to terms with each of these sides, really get to know yourself and get comfortable. Because as we know, Ironman day is a long one.

After some more time riding the bumps (which, after each one, would loosen a section of my aero bottle - causing it to "separate" from its two comparments; as well as misalign it, thereby taking away some of its aerodynamic benefits), we had some flats and rollers, which gave me a reprieve. I pumped it and geared up for the flats, and could finally concentrate on getting my heart rate at a consistent level. Another fill-up at a water stop, and we were warned we had "a pretty good hill" coming up ahead. "Good." Not the word I would have used. I had another battle of the Marias going on in my head, and tried to keep on a good face for Joan, who was enduring a sufficient amount of her own... and we were greeted with another sick hill. On bumpy terrain, and a really narrow road. I focused as much as possible on forward motion and didn't even want to give myself the opportunity to analyze. Just keep moving forward, I thought. And keep hydrating. Don't forget to fuel and drink. After all, we didn't want things to get any worse :)

Joan rode up ahead of me and it was good that she did. My brain power was dwindling on the "thinking" end and was on auto-pilot mode. So having someone to follow and lead the way was exactly what I needed. The rest of me was a machine by this point, pedaling, shifting, drinking. Repeating each one. We were now on our way back to the park, which rejuvinated my spirits a bit, so I capitalized on it and sped up whenever possible, especially on the flats. Somewhere after those bumpy hills (i.e. the "good hill" or two), I had hit a new milestone. Mile 61! I celebrated and Joan cheered with me. Everything after that would be a new milestone for me and I wanted to try and keep things as positive as possible. Because as you'll find with training at these distances, those emotions (all the highs, lows, the agony & the joy) come and go at unexpected moments. You literally just have to ride them out.

We caught Nick & Kathryn at a SAG stop and Nick (bless his heart) actually caught a photo of me with a genuine smile, as I was riding up in front of Joan for a brief stint, on the way back to the park.



And then Joan and I got wind of the fact that the final stretch of the bike ride (back to the Shaw house / Bike Finish) went BACK in the same direction as those monstrous hills and bumpy roads. Oh no, I am not doing those again!!! I shrieked. That can't be!, Joan said. We were confused and I went from feeling good and focused, to pissed off again. It was the true epitome of a roller coaster. So once again, I came into the park with all kinds of emotions boiling inside of me.

And then a small miracle occurred. Mike was there to tell us that we would NOT be riding up or down those hills again. The amount of relief that came over me is hard to describe. By now, I had ridden about 85 miles, was surely the last one on the Team out on the road, but determined more than ever to complete this ride. The Honorees were there to remind me of what I'm doing and why. And the final volunteers stuck around to make sure I had all the water and anything else I needed for the final push. Again, I was touched by their kindness and accepted their support humbly.

So I popped one last Gu (and actually the only one I took all day, with 2x the caffeine) and Joan, Mike & I set out for the last stretch. Yes -- there were more climbs [you didn't think they stopped after mile 80, did you?], and more bumpy roads [yes, those too]. And by now, my aero bottle had been jostling around so much that I felt like a traveling circus on my bike. The removable compartment would gradually pop up, and when I'd go to slam it down, water from the other compartment would shoot out like a geyser and hit me straight in the face. I'm just thankful I put water in there and not an electrolyte replacement drink, otherwise we would have had a much stickier situation on our hands. But I took the water splashing as a good thing since it was so humid and I was now on my bike for a consecutive 9 hours by this point. But since my hands were getting wet from all the water splashing around, combined with the bumpy roads and having to grip the handlebars, I now had blisters forming on the palms of my hands.

With something like 7-8 miles left (which still seemed very far at the time), I heard a snap! It was one of the rubber bands keeping the aero bottle attached to my aero bars. Now, despite the major issues with that thing, it was doing a GREAT job of keeping me hydrated, but my safety net was now dangling by the thread of one measley rubber band. Can you imagine all this?! It was shaking, rattling, jostling and splashing. I was over it, and tossed it over to Nick and Kathryn at the final SAG stop. Their energy and enthusiasm was a big help. They had been blasting the Rocky Theme Song from the car, alongside us (and many of my other teammates) which was absolutely awesome.

A few more blocks up ahead and we were finally heading back into Lucerne, right outside of the Shaw house. I was now delirious and hell-bent on finishing this thing. I was off the Gatorade/Carbo-Pro mix (stomach wasn't having it) and just stuck to water and salt (well, the last of the water anyway, until I scrapped that infernal bottle). Up ahead along Highway 29 we saw a live snake on the side of the road. We rode right by it and it recoiled so fast, it scared the crap out of me. I am now manic and in this new place of hysteria - pushing down, pulling up, pedaling, moving forward. Where is the house?! I kept asking myself. And just then, Mike told me to look up ahead. He and Joan moved aside and let me pass on the left. The whole Team and slew of volunteers had been waiting for me at the finish.



I said to Joan, that I didn't know whether I wanted to throw up or cry! I was approaching the finish of 102 miles and my Garmin had read about 9 hours of saddle time. And here was this overwhelming crowd of my teammates who had stood there, cheering me in. My eyes welled up with tears and I was overcome with so much emotion. Agony, joy, fullfillment, pain, pride, elation, accomplishment.



We ended our day with a soak back in the lake, a BBQ altogether as a Team, and some reflection time with our Honorees.





After dinner, I headed back to the hotel with Sandy; we rinsed out our wetsuits and cleaned off, before stretching and foam rolling and finally collapsing into our beds. I was dead to the world and slept harder than I think I ever have, but ironically enough had no problem waking up again at 5:15 a.m. to pack up, check-out, and prepare for Day 2.

Today (Sunday), we finished the training weekend with a long run. My legs of course felt heavy starting out, but I kept my pace easy and stayed consistent with a 4:1 run/walk. I hadn't even realized how humid it was until I reached a shady section of the road and felt my face already soaked with perspiration. This was mile 1.5 and about 7:20 a.m. I just keep thinking -- good training for Louisville. Tony met up with me early on and we ran the rest of the way together. He helped keep me honest with pacing and it made a world of difference. Coach Simon also met up with us on the back half and the two of them really kept me going, especially when I felt like there was nothing left in the tank. Completed 15.5 miles in about 3:20.



I went from riding 60 miles to over 100 in the span of about a month (and from 0 to 100 in seven months) -- something I never really thought was possible for me, let alone after hitting my swim milestone of 2 miles just minutes before starting the ride. And then I followed it up with almost 16 miles of running the following day when my body was tired. And yet it rose to the occasion, just like my mind did the day before -- because it needed to. I am beside myself just thinking about how powerful and capable the human body, mind and spirit are. I got a true taste of what the Ironman spirit is about this weekend ~ and to me, it's about the people. The individuals who push, encourage, challenge, promote and uplift you. When you're in the trenches of pain, emotional trials, heartache, or literally down on the ground (I did actually fall once! Thanks, Tony & Michelle for picking me back up!), it's the people and the support that come from some of the most unexpected places. And it's the belief that anything is possible. I am so, so proud of my teammates and everything we accomplished. This post has gotten significantly long and detailed; but that's exactly how it all came together for me personally this weekend, and in spite of allll the encounters with adversity I had, reaching the completion of two very important milestones was that much sweeter of a reward. And for that, I am so very grateful for the entire experience and those who helped me along the way to complete over 118 miles in one weekend! Thank you to all the coaches, staff and volunteers for pitching in your time, resources, efforts and enthusiasm over a long duration of time for so many of us. Your smiles and warm hearts along the course were absolutely invaluable.

A huge thanks to Belinda, Helen, Nick & Claudia as well ~ for capturing some of the most awesome, painful & irreplaceable memories from the weekend. It was by far an unforgettable experience that I will look back upon when the going gets tough. And as the saying goes, a picture really is worth a thousand words.









***
Week #30 Workout Summary:

Swim: 1 hour and 45 minutes
Bike: 10 hours and 0 minutes
Run: 3 hours and 0 minutes
Core/Strength: 0 hours and 15 minutes
Total Workout: 15 hours and 0 minutes

IronTeam's Fundraising Progress to Date: $175,570
My Fundraising Progress to Date: $8,616

Reaching New Lengths in Open Water / M-Dot Goes Aero!

Hello again, friends -- I write you from another wildly emotional peak, headed for an inevitable valley of another feeling I have yet to experience today :) I can call out these emotional highs and lows with no hesitation whatsoever at this point. A "little birdie" just sent me the following quote:

"Keep away from those who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you believe that you too can become great." - Mark Twain

I read it and immediately became teary-eyed. Again, I think all this just hearkens back to the recent reality check I had which reminded me we're closing in on the final weeks of training, preparation, and a culmination of all our hard work. And I seriously can't get over everything I've done, put myself through, accomplished, and achieved. [ok, here come the waterworks again...]

I'll start with the weekend update -- that should distract me in the meantime. Saturday morning, the Team and I were headed back to Lake Del Valle in Livermore. The last time I was here was for our first Boot Camp weekend. It didn't take long for me to be reminded on the drive in, of the steep-ass hills I once climbed on the bike in and out of the park. Sandy and I looked at each other in the parking lot and laughed at how haunting of a reminder they were. This time, however, no bike ride. We were in for a swim/run brick and I had prepared myself for absolutely anything.



It's amazing how you can go from fearing open water to now literally plunging yourself head-first into the unknown. I wasn't familiar with the swim course, hadn't swam in open water in weeks, and didn't know how far I was going to go. But I diligently got my wetsuit on, joined my peers on the pier and went for it.



Sandy and I (i.e. the only Louisville-ites at training that day) were asked to simulate our time-trial start for our race by jumping off the dock. We had already gotten in the water (without dipping our heads under) but had to swim back to shore to then jump back in. Off I went! With a nice little splash.



So we began our swim. Our instructions were to swim for a complete hour, from one buoy to another (which I could barely see from afar), and then back around for as many loops as we could fit within the hour. The water was really nice. Refreshing, and with the sunrays glistening off the top. The sky that morning was as blue as could be and without a cloud in sight. After adjusting my cap a little, de-fogging the goggles, and [ouch!] getting a few strands of hair un-caught from the velcro on the back of my wetsuit, I got into my groove and picked up my rhythm. I felt like I was swimming faster and stronger than I had before. I reached the buoy (the one I couldn't see in the beginning) and turned around to head toward the other, past a fallen tree in the lake. By the time I had reached the initial buoy by the dock, I realized it hadn't even been a half hour! So I turned right around to complete the loop a second time. This time, I really did settle into my forever pace. It was incredible. My body and mind made me feel like I could swim forever. I felt fluid and strong and able. And even better, the sun was shining and it was a gorgeous morning.



Although most of my teammates were strewn about all over the lake, I felt safe with a few kayaks nearby. Unfortunately, some of the speedboats in the distance left a bit of a wake -- which made for an interesting segment of my swim... I basically had to roll with it and make do. I made it a point to relay this to my brain, as this could very well be the case for race day. Expect the unexpected and just go with it! And I managed just fine. Took me off my groove for a little bit, but I eventually found it again and my confidence in the water soon came flowing back. As I came up on the final minutes of my swim, I headed toward the shore for what became a new milestone -- 1.5 miles in one hour!



After toweling off and doing a quick-change into my running clothes, I sprayed on the sunscreen and popped a salt tablet in preparation for my run. For whatever reason, I initially thought we had an 80-minute run on calendar. But when I got to the start of the run course (a.k.a. bottom of the trail) Coach Simon had told us to repeat a 2.5-mile out and back as many times as we could in 2 hours and 15 minutes. Not what I had expected -- but I was up for the challenge! Mentor Michelle and I hit the trail together and shot for a 10-10:30 min/mile pace at a run/walk of four minutes on - 1 minute off. It worked for us for a while, but the sun began to get warmer and the hills, a little steeper. It didn't take long for us to break a sweat, but we had plenty of water with us and hydrated regularly. I'm not used to running in the heat as much, let alone after more than a mile of swimming, but I did my best and worked on the mental training all at the same time -- not letting myself get easily discouraged or panicked about not going "fast enough". It was challenging, but a great opportunity to let my body feel all the elements of what I was putting it through. A little fatigue, some tightness in the calves, a lot of sweat (hence, a lot of salt & water replacement), but a sharp mind and determined will to do the best I could. After we would reach one end of the 2.5-mile stretch, we'd head back up and down the rolling hills of the trail, paying close attention to the rocks, uneven surfaces and tree roots. Trail running is no joke, and I'm always amazed by the runners who run them regularly and with ease. I'd find moments where I felt a little heavy and sluggish, but I'd take a few sips of water and make it a point to add a little bounce in my step to pick up the pace alongside Michelle, who was great company for this run. There was also more than a handful of times we'd find our groove too and book it along the trail. We'd find a few dead bugs on our arms and legs at one point and took that as a clear indication that we must have been running lightning-fast ;)



After 2 hours and 15 minutes, Michelle and I successfully completed 10 miles! I felt absolutely awesome at the end and even had enough to sprint out the last quarter of a mile or so. And it was just in time to join the rest of the Team in a "quad bath". It's the first I had ever heard of this term -- everyone had kicked off their shoes (with the exception of Mentor Margaret whom I believe ended her run IN the lake). But we all hiked up our shorts and soaked our trail-dusted and bug-laden legs (ew) into the lake for a soothing and chilling ice bath. Loved it!



During our soak, we each took the time to reflect on what's going on in our heads at this point in the season, and voice to one another the excitement, joy, pride, as well as trepidations and any anxieties about our races. It was great to hear from everyone and know none of us is alone in our mixed emotions. Even the 3-4x Ironman finishers on the Team voiced their concerns and butterflies for their upcoming races. Again, the whole dialogue bonded us much more as a Team. Here's one of the SMC Gael Alums on IronTeam ~ w/ BK & Tony. "Team in Training, bringing alums of all ages together..."



On Sunday we had a 30-mile bike ride on calendar. I was anxious/excited again to try something new and different -- the installation of and first ride with my new aero bars! We started off at Lunardi's Market in Danville and made our way to the Highland Loop -- which is a section of country backroads that go from Danville through to Livermore and back. We had a fair share of riding in road traffic, lights, etc. It still often gives me some apprehension, just because you can never predict what the cars [and drivers] are going to do. But I took it one pedal stroke at a time, and managed to fuel (one-handed ride) safely within the bike lane, staying balanced and confident. I'd look down from time to time thinking it was WEIRD having so many bars in front of me and a number of options on how to hold them :) On flat sections of the road, I'd practice taking one hand off and resting it on the elbow pads of the aero bars, while keeping the other hand on the hoods. Then I'd alternate. The day was heating up fast and was probably up in the low-seventies by 10 a.m.

Unfortunately no photos, but we managed to ride by a snake in the middle of the road (yes, it was alive), and maybe three feet long. Which scared the crap out of me. We also encountered a real gentleman in a pickup who crept up behind us and deliberately gassed up and drove just about as close as he could to each of our bikes, before speeding off. I never really understood road rage. Or for that matter, who would waste their time getting that worked up.

Somewhere along the ride, Helen unfortunately encountered a mishap and broke her rear derailleur, ending her day early. Thankfully, another one of our teammates, Jen Jay, was nearby and came to the rescue. On the way back from Highland Loop, when no one was watching, I finally decided to give it a try. I put my right arm on the the elbow rest and calmly removed my left hand from the hood to rest on the other. I was doing it! Riding aero and I felt comfortable! No jolting or wobbling around. I was pedaling smooth, cutting through the wind and feeling fantastic. When approaching a stoplight, I'd calmly change positions, downshift and apply the brakes. It all just felt natural. I also realized one of life's simple pleasures as a cyclist: the coast & roll. Sometimes, I catch myself speeding up to a traffic light, only to see it change from yellow to red, before having to get ready to come to a dead stop. But of course when timed properly and with enough cars in the lane next door, it'll inevitably turn green again -- which if you're lucky and in the right spot at the right time, you won't even have to stop, can coast a little (and practice balancing, in my case) and can just roll right on through. Hah, not rocket science, I know. But oh-so-nice and always makes me happy when I can pick my riding groove back up and keep on going. Which is pretty much what happened through ALL the traffic lights on the way back from our ride :)

By the end of our 30-miles, I came back feeling accomplished and fulfilled after trying something new and succeeding. However I was also given a wise warning later on in the day from Coach Sedonia to be watchful of how long and how often I'm in any type of aero position that would otherwise have me leaning forward for sustained periods of time. The thought hadn't even occurred to me -- but if you're hunched over for a long time, your nutrition, calories, food and everything else may stay stuck in your gut, until you finally lean back or go upright, with the sensation of your nutrition wanting to come back UP, or worse yet -- out some other direction. I was mortified when I heard this but glad to have the info so I can avoid this in the future.

Topped off the training weekend with a relaxing barbecue at my house with a few teammates -- of course, complete with a viewing session of Ironman Louisville 2009 (with cameos of Coach Mike, Team Manager Merla, and a few others from last season). Coach Mike, Coach Sedonia, Nick & Dana were ever-so-kind to drop by with yummy dishes, smiling faces and as always -- good stories to share. Here are photos of Nick manning the grill with his shrimp-kabobs; and Sedonia's heavenly lasagna, paired with Mike's comforting garlic bread. Dana brought a pasta dish and I made my favorite BBQ Chicken. Good times and of course, countless laughs, were had by all.







All in all, another fabulous weekend ~ and the bonus day of no work and a rest day from training for the Memorial Holiday was just what I needed. I'll be training this week but going light, in preparation for the biggest training weekend yet..... 3/4 Iron at Clearlake! Yes, folks. I will be:

swimming 2 miles;
biking 100 miles; and
running 16 miles.

This is pretty darn close to the real thing and I can only imagine what new lessons, experiences, highs and lows the weekend will bring. Stay tuned!

***
Week #29 Workout Summary:

Swim: 1 hour and 0 minutes
Bike: 4 hours and 0 minutes
Run: 2 hours and 30 minutes
Core/Strength: 0 hours and 30 minutes
Total Workout: 8 hours and 0 minutes

My Fundraising Progress to Date: $8,566

Reality Check: 13 Weeks Until Ironman

I can't believe all this is becoming real. It's really happening. I don't know if it's the Coaches' Emails that the Team is getting with mention of "Race Phase" being thrown in, or that I just recently requested my time off from work in August. Maybe it's the fact that I just got an email in my inbox that starts with "Dear Ford Ironman Louisville Athlete". But it hit me. I'm doing this and it's going to happen. I'm headed to Ironman.

It's funny. I still have people coming up to me asking things like, "When's your marathon?", or "How's your little triathlon training going?" Some people have even congratulated me, thinking I've already done my event.

Shout-out to YOU -- the person reading this and have likely read at least one or two of my posts this season, and have some inkling of what is going on. To those of you who aren't on my Team or haven't been on the trails, in the pools and lakes, and along the bike courses with me, who STILL read up on my journey from time to time... a special hug and thank you to YOU. I know I've alienated a number of friends outside the Team (and TNT) with all my "I'm busy's", "I can't tonight's", and "You'll never believe how far I went today's". By now I probably sound like a broken record. But your support, listening ear, and just helping me keep my sanity through this roller coaster of a ride has been invaluable. And I have not forgotten any ONE of you who has been there for me through it all.

So no one told me that along with Sexy Phase of the training season, would come Emotional Phase. Word to the wise for any and all of you who run into me during the next thirteen weeks: I am a wreck! Giddy/excited one minute, inspired and dewy-eyed the next, belligerent at work because I'd rather be doing an interval set on my bike trainer, or on the verge of tears for no apparent reason. Absolute roller coaster, thinking about everything I've done and endured in the last six months and what's in store for the following three.



I bought myself my new set of aero bars yesterday. In the beginning of the season when I bought my road bike, I told myself that would be my reward for having kept going and getting back up off the ground after countless falls. I equate the aero bars to the big girl's bike - the ride of an Ironwoman. The real deal and what triathletes and time-trial racers use. Of course ~ that puts me in a whole new [OUT OF] Comfort Zone, but that's all part of it. At this point, I've reconciled the fact that I have plunged into countless uncomfortable, foreign, core-shaking experiences. But the more I fight it out and work through the adversity, the more my comfort zone expands. And that's one of the things I've grown to love (and even crave) about triathlon. So aerodynamics, here I come! I bought a pair of jammer bars, or shorties, as they're also called. They're specifically designed for road bike geometry, and are a good compromise of adding some aerodynamic benefits and an alternate riding position, without completely changing your fit or hunching you over too far into an aggressive position. I'm scared of them because they're so carbon-lite, and I'm freaked out that the tiniest anything will crack them. But alas... this is the new monkey wrench I've thrown into my soon-to-be repertoire of bike-handling skills, and I just gotta go for it. I just have to give it time, practice, patience, repetition & muscle memory.

As I said to myself in the very beginning: I want to be an Ironman. And to become an Ironman, you need to have a bike.

Do you believe that? And here I am.

Sometimes, I feel like superhero. I get up in the morning, get ready for work, commute, walk to the office and go home like every other person. But the slight twinges in my upper back or tight calf muscles are quick to remind me I've been working my TAIL off, outside what some would believe are "normal hours" of the day. Before and after work I'm usually jetting out one door and into another to quickly change into my uniform of some kind of wicking spandex, ranging from the wee hours of the morning, to times of the day that others would argue are precious sleep hours or when I "should be out at the bars" or at Happy Hour like most 20-somethings my age.

The truth is, there's an extra bounce in my step during my walk to work -- because I know I just put my mind & body through hours of hard work the night before. When I go to eat lunch with a colleague, I'm already planning out my meal for what will be the most efficient stores of energy I'll need to burn for my swim, bike or run later that night. I have a newfound sense of confidence in my abilities that I would have never even recognized without going through what I have. I've seen my potential. And I CAN go farther than I ever thought possible.

And to those of you who still call me crazy or wonder why I do any of this (first of all, congrats on making it to my blog and getting to this part of the post), I'd like to share with you an excerpt from the book I've been reading...

Triathlon should be about love: love of yourself, love of the sport, and love for others. Love the process. Enjoy giving your best effort, improving your swimming, biking, and running, reveling in the heat of competition, and getting to know like-minded people. Triathlon remains a joy when it acts as an antidote for stress and a healthy escape from the demands of your life. Triathlon should contribute to your growth as a person, promoting admirable qualities, such as humility, passion and patience. [It] has a strong spiritual component; it challenges you to push your limits and expand your horizons. The sport can be a source of profound meaning, satisfaction and enjoyment. Triathlon is like life, filled with challenges, struggles, excitement, setbacks, failures, and ultimately, success -- and to triumph in the mental race is to seize victory in life itself.