IMMT Race Report: Race Day

After a half-decent night of sleep, I woke up at 4:30am, filled with the notion that it was going to be a great day.  My husband was nice enough to walk to transition with me where my first order of business was to get air in my tires.  After borrowing a pump and doing it myself, I became worried that I hadn't done a good job.  I walked the bike over to the bike mechanics who when I asked if it was okay, said in a thick French-Canadian accent, "Close, but not quite."  So to those guys, thank you.

With the bike racked and ready to go, it was off to walk to the swim start.  The weather was much better than the day before in that there was no fog and the visibility was great.  The atmosphere that IMMT created was everything I wanted it to be and so much more.  The amazing singing of the Canadian Anthem, the fire flares and cannon blast to start the pros, the fact that the female pros got the same treatment as the males (there is nothing more disappointing than fanfare for the male pros only for the women to be sent off with an air horn), the military fly over, all of it, perfect.  I had gotten my wetsuit on with my friend Jill, walked to give my husband a big kiss and then tried desperately to find two people that I needed to before the gun went off.  I found Dianne first, exactly where I knew she would be, near the front, cell phone in hand, recording video of the day.  Dianne is the person that gets up with me (even when neither of us wants to) at 5am to hit the pool.  I was thrilled to ask her to zip up my wetsuit and send me off to my corral.  Cue the second bout of uncontrollable waterworks.  Then it was off to find Sue.  Shortly after meeting Sue playing ice hockey, I happened to finish a marathon right next to her dad, mistakenly thinking she was taking my photo.  I learned shortly thereafter that she was training for IMLP 2010.  I remember tracking her all day on my phone that year and being so impressed that someone could do this.  After that we began riding together and she has been an invaluable source of information for biking, triathlon, hockey and more.  As I was lining up for my wave's swim start, Sue and I found each other.  We shared the biggest hug that you could imagine, waterworks bout #3, and for the first time all morning, I felt ready.

Photo courtesy of Dianne San Luis

Swim: While many people were excited about the wave start for the swim, myself included, I am now no longer a fan.  As a medium to strong swimmer in the 30-34 AG, I was engaged in a 2.4 mile dog fight.  First with my age group, then with the best 35+ women who were swimming through us and then, worst of all, the poor swimmers in the men's division.  In my mind, as a good swimmer, you can seed yourself in a mass start and find like-paced people.  Having to swim through frantic, grasping, gasping, and now tired, large men at the end of a race segment was terrifying.  Normally you can shake that sort of nonsense quickly, but not in the wave start format.  Being mistaken for a buoy, and dragged under with .4 miles to go was not exactly how I wanted my day to start.  Nonetheless, I came out of the water filled with energy, running the entire red carpet to T1.

T1: I grabbed my bag and started to change when I realized how badly I had to use a bathroom.  I was told that there were a "few" port-o-johns in transition, but that I should change clothes first.  After doing so I took off sprinting out of the tent and then waited for 5 minutes...yes 5 minutes...to use one of the two 'johns that were intended for the pros.  Though I still had a ton of energy, it was a big momentum killer.

Bike Loop 1: For a number of reasons, including that I had never biked more than 96 miles in my life, I was a little worried about the 8 hour bike cut-off.  I had done that math that if I could keep my pace above 15 mph I would be okay.  My coach had suggested a slightly more aggressive pace so I figured as long as I stayed between those two, I would make it.  The first bike loop was great, I was keeping a super pace and taking in the beauty.  I kept thinking of what Sue had said the day before, which was to look around, take it all in and then be happy you get to see it one more time.  The Montee Ryan seemed to fly by, the out and back on 117 was challenging but fun, after the turnaround I was able to see my friends Heather, Sue, and Jill.  They all started in the wave behind me.  Admittedly I'm a better swimmer, but they are all better bikers, so I just held on waiting for them to catch me.  The small town of Saint-Jovite brought waterworks #4 as people lined the streets cheering in French and English, "Allez!  You can do it! Bravo!"  The Chemin Duplessis was exactly what I figured it would be...hard.  My goal was to keep it under control for round one and stay safe.  Those who bike with me know that I have walked my bike down far more hills than I have up.  As we started the final descent, some spectators (pretty much the only ones on that section) started screaming to slow-down.  Terrified that there had been a crash, I did as instructed.  As I made the bend, I realized that one of the spectators had a handful of pebbles and was throwing them at the butt of a deer who had managed to get stuck in the middle of the road.  Luckily his plan worked, the deer darted off and from what I could tell, no one lost any time or too much momentum.

Bike Loop 2: I had mentally prepared for the "dark" places in this race.  I had strategies lined up for how to deal with them.  Every so often I would check-in with myself and see if I needed those yet and each time, I realized that I was still in a happy space.  I started off on the second loop of the bike race and realized that while I was still happy, it was getting to be a little uncomfortable.  It was hot, windy (in all directions), and the pack had become spread out.  I was so thankful for the rest areas along the bike course.  I was able to refill my water bottle, get slathered in sunscreen, grab a banana and with volunteers moving at the speed of a NASCAR pit-crew.  One issue though was that the drop zones were too close to the end of the water station and at one point, I ended up with an extra bottle that I didn't need, but couldn't throw out for nearly 10 miles.  I made the turn around on 117 and got past the next aid station.  At that point, on the flats at the top of the hill, I witnessed one of the scariest things you could see.  A female rider just ahead of the biker directly in front of me, inexplicably fell over her back left hip and face-first on to the pavement.  The rider in front of me stopped as did two in the opposite direction.  Realizing that no one had phones, I took off at record-breaking speed to find a volunteer.  By this point I was sobbing at what I had witnessed (she was not moving when I passed).  I flagged down a volunteer and he sprinted to his car.  The rider who had been behind me caught up to me a few feet later, asked if I was okay and confirmed what I had believed to be the case, that this rider had passed out before hitting the ground.

**I have had the good fortune, thanks to social media, to be in touch with this rider.  She is doing okay after three days in the hospital.  This was her 23rd Ironman and she is past retirement age!  We spoke on the phone the day after she was released, not only about the accident and questions she had, but about Ironman.  She is already registered for IMMT 70.3 and will hopefully be given a clean bill of health to continue participating! **

As we made the turn into Saint-Jovite, I started to hurt.  My lungs and mental state were okay, but my left knee was not.  I think all of the climbing had made it really sore in addition to having taken a tumble on a city sidewalk the Monday before the race.  Whatever the case, I started to slow down...big time.  Having had to train mostly alone for this event due to my school/work schedule, I was always able to go at a pace I wanted to, without fear of being dropped.  I think that had I trained at a faster pace over long distances, I could have held it together a little better.  That said, the hills of Montee Ryan and Chemin Duplessis just about did me in.  I was so happy to hand over my bike to the volunteers and get busy running.


T2: Quest for a bathroom continues, luckily I found a few just outside of transition!

Run:  I hadn't yet reached a dark place in the race so I figured it was coming on the run.  I had a goal to run a 10:30 pace.  As the first mile clicked by at 11:45, I was worried that I was in real trouble.  Then at about Mile 2, I took a bee sting to the neck.  I hadn't been stung in 15 years until this earlier this summer, when I was stung twice in one day.  I'm glad it happened so that I didn't have to worry about being allergic in the middle of a race (thankfully I am not).  The volunteers were literally prepared for EVERYTHING.  I came running in towards the aid station saying, "bee sting" and holding my neck.  In less than 30 seconds a volunteer had some cream and a iced cloth on my neck and I barely even slowed down.  There were two aid stations with music blaring, I made sure to run-dance (shout out to my friend Natalie) through all of them.  It was a great chance to smile, shake out the arms and further enjoy the whole experience.  The first loop seemed to come and go quickly.  I had settled into a 10:56 pace.

The out and back format of this run course was wonderful for seeing friends along the way.  Each hug from Vinny, high-five from Heather, Sue, and Matt, and Jill screaming, "You're gonna do it!" made me feel more and more energized and also brought on more waterworks.  I caught up to my friends Dan and Shawn around mile 23 and remembered why I got into this sport, to help people and fight cancer.  Dan, Shawn, Jill and I all met through the American Cancer Society's DetermiNation program and vowed to do an IM together.  Though we didn't get to train together, we had all signed up on the same day a year ago and by that point in the race we knew we were all going to finish!  Amazingly at that point I had still not reached that dark place and never would.

At mile 24.5 I was becoming anxious however and I wanted to be DONE.  Almost right on cue as I came down the final hill before the finish a small young girl with bleach blond curly hair and French-Canadian accent came running along side me.  It was now dark and she asked if she could run with me for a bit.  I replied yes.  She told me I looked really good for doing an Ironman and I was moving quickly.  As we approached the water station she asked if she could get me some water.  I said no, I just wanted to be done.  She took off ahead of me to tell everyone (in French) at the water station that I didn't want water and to just cheer for me (as best I can translate from what I heard.)  She then dropped back to me and as we ran through the aid station, no one offered water, just cheered wildly.  We approached the final hill and she told me to look for the police lights, turn left and then go be an Ironman.  Yep, more waterworks.  If anyone reading this knows that young girl, please pass along my huge thank you, she made the last mile before the finish go by in a flash and was so incredibly sweet.  With that final bit of inspiration, I took off like a mad-woman towards the finish.  I slowed down only to grab a Terrible Towel from my mom to wave as I crossed the line, smiling the whole way.  I was so excited that I'm pretty sure I committed an IM faux-pas as I passed a competitor between the last timing mat and the finish line.  This lead to Mike Reilly having to re-read both  names as her name had been read when I crossed since she had hit the other mat first...oops.  I'm so sorry to that athlete, I was just so excited to be an Ironman.


Finish: Official time: 13:53.  I had hoped for under 14 hours, with 15 being my max.  I had secretly wanted to go 13:30 and I think I could have if I had held the second loop of the bike together and not lost time in T1.  But hell, it's my first one and I'm done my 24 hours of being upset over it.  The two giant servings of poutine at the finish were worth every ounce of soreness I've felt since.  After I gathered my stuff, my family and I sat on our balcony, overlooking the finish and cheered crazily for every competitor that came in, all the way until Eve, the last one.  We would see them pass, then get very quiet so we could hear Mike Reilly announce that they had made it!  A perfect end to a near perfect day.

Afterthoughts:  After getting back on my bike I'm even more hungry for the next race! Not sure I'll do a full IM next year, but plan to do one again for sure.  Huge thank you to my family for being part of this.  And there are not enough thank yous in the world to give my coach Jack Braconnier of Cadence Cycling and Multisport in Manayunk, PA.  It is something special to be coached by someone who not only helps you train physically, but mentally. Being prepared for that dark space, but keeping the experience positive, is not something I could do a few years ago.  Letting go of my defeatist attitude and taking each minute as a positive light not only made this the most enjoyable experience I could ever imagine, but helped get me through the race feeling great.

I cannot recommend this race enough.  For my first IM experience it was everything I'd hoped it would be.  I'm spending the rest of this week recovering and thinking about the next race!  At some point, I'll take off the shirt, bracelets and tatoos...I swear.

IMMT Race Report: Lead Up

As with all race reports, I apologize now for the length of this post, there is just SO much great stuff to share, that I want to make sure it's all here!  I've written in a few parts for those who may read this that are only interested in the race-day experience itself.

We arrived to MT early Friday afternoon and were able to check right into our hotel at La Place St. Bernard - Delauriers. If you do this race next year and have a reservation here, see if you can specifically get room 341 as we had a balcony that overlooked the last half mile leading down to the finish!  After checking in to the hotel, I went through my first IM athlete check-in process. I stood in line with a very nice woman from Ontario who helped calm my nerves about the back half of the bike loop(s).  As I walked from station to station, my anxiety built, finally it was time for my wristband.  As the volunteer grabbed my hand to affix the blue band, she noted how freezing cold my hands were, I told her how nervous I was.  With that, she grasped both of my hands, looked into my eyes and said, "You are going to be great!"  And cue the first of many spontaneous episodes of the waterworks.

After athlete check-in, my husband Mark and I biked the Montee Ryan for about an hour.  The hills were a little challenging, but nothing that couldn't be handled.  I went for a short run afterwards and then it was on to the Athlete Banquet.  I was so lucky that my mother, in-laws, brother-in-law, and husband were able to join me.  We ate with good friends Sue, Jill and Jill's niece Allison.  The dinner ran a little long (happens when you must say things in English and French), but had some great moments.  For instance, the worlds fastest ice carvers...not sure what it was about this, but it just seemed oh-so-Canadian.  The most interesting part was where everyone was from, how many countries were represented, what people do for a living that do these events, made it seem like such a small community, but yet so global.  My mom stayed with me through the Athlete Meeting.  Of all the sports I played growing up and all of the rules she had to learn and gear she had to purchase, triathlon was never one of those sports.  So just like she did when I was little, she sat and intently listened to better understand.  One of the most moving moments for me, was when my mom (who was a swimmer and diver growing up) said to me, "If this was around when I was your age, I'm sure I would have done this." Having not known my mom as anyone more than a seemingly non-athletic mother, this was such a cool thing to think about and that she totally understood the appeal of it.

Saturday my mom and I got up early and she accompanied my friend Heather and I to the practice swim.  The water was cold and it was very foggy out, making visibility difficult.  I was happy I was able to practice in those conditions.  And my mom, just like she did when I swam the 500 in middle school, grabbed a cup of coffee and waited.

After that we dropped our bags off and did a quick drive of the course which allowed me to see for the first time the Chemin Duplessis.  Wow.  Hills.  Steep ones.  I knew I'd have no problem on round 1, but on tired legs (I had never before bike 100 miles), I could see it being a struggle.

Dinner that night was at La Forge (highly recommended!).  I ordered, on recommendation of my friend Vinny's daughter Gabrielle, the filet tips with rigatoni and it didn't disappoint.  As my friend Jill and I sat there, trying to not let our nerves get the best of us, in walked Mike Reilly.  We were so excited and took this as a sign that tomorrow MUST be a great day.  He was nice enough to take a photo with us before enjoying his dinner.  After the application of race-day tattoos, final preparations and a nice glass of wine it was off to sleep.

An attitude of gratitude (as Roy Kardon might say)!

 This is a blog post that I've wanted to write for a while now, but with no time to sit down and commit it to paper…or…my semi-defunct blog.  Now that we are one week out from the Ironman, it needs to be written.  This is a little long, so if you were tagged in or emailed this, just go ahead and Ctrl+F for your name.

This Iron-endeavor has changed me more than I could have imagined it to.  Not in the life-changing, new-age-y sort of way, but in the “I’m a different person now than I was a few years ago and I like it,” kind of way.  Some of those changes are the things that come with age.  For instance, if you knew me in the 4^th grade when Ms. Moran dumped my desk upside down to find a homework assignment, you’d be shocked at the level of micro-organization that now I operate under. 

All of these transformations haven’t come from triathlon of course, but deciding to do an Ironman is a clear culmination of how different things are.  My husband and I jokingly call our early twenties our “lost years” and that couldn't have been more true.  To kick off my 30s, I got my Masters Degree, an amazing husband and a job that I knew would set the path for my career. Then, in 2010, I found the American Cancer Society’s DetermiNation program.  It was a way to honor my grandmother, complete a triathlon, and give my free time some purpose.  That moment started this journey and since I’m as happy as I can ever remember being; I thought it appropriate to thank some people who've helped along the way to IMMT.  

DNation.  If there is a more inspiring group of folks out there, I've never met them.  Despite personal adversity and heartache, you go on, fight for a cure and to make the world better.  Chad – Thanks for riding with me during the heat advisory and backtracking to provide a smile on my 18-mile dehydrated run through Manayunk.  Dan – Thanks for convincing me to do that first 68-point-whatever and for Velobeats…I will never be able to repay you for the discovery of that podcast.  The rest of the DNation Committee – thanks for the smiles on the trail, the joy you bring every meeting and the incredible work you do.

My training friends.  Jill –My friend, confidant, and commiserator.  You are far stronger than you give yourself credit for, most of us wouldn't still be standing, you are going to be great at IMMT!  Denise – Thank you for you always bringing a laugh, a post-it note, and an extra towel.  Your willingness to bring me a piece of tomato pie in the pouring rain is the greatest demonstration of friendship there is.  Anjana, Megan and Jim – Thank you for the weekly ass-kickings in the pool.  Emily – Thank you for the support and laughs, you’ll be great in Tahoe!  Sue- I’m not sure I’d know how to ride my bike if it weren't for you!  You've handled tough rides (in car and on bike), injuries, and all sorts of challenges with strength and a funny, realistic perspective on all of it.  I cannot tell you how excited I am to be doing my first IM with you!  Dianne – Wakey, wakey!  Thanks for being my 5am wake-up call, for the MANY laughs, the infinite bike knowledge, and the inspiration to keep pushing harder.  You are a gem and can you perhaps bring me some Pure Fare on course? Sean, Jared and Ang – I missed riding with you this summer, but thank you for everything you've taught me. Hopefully we’ll reconvene in the woods…with the hippies…and the hummus. Shawn and Dan - I can't believe it's go time! 

My work peeps. Eileen – You are my endless pillar of sanity!  John – Thanks for making my job easier, you deserve far more than you've been given.   And all of you who help out when things are completely nuts, you know who you are…and I appreciate all of you.

 

All of you who gave me books, songs, poems, and quotes for inspiration.  I've read about 75% of what you see above, hoping now that school is done for the summer, I can plow through the rest.  I also started a little book of my own to remind me of how supported I am.  So to all of you that posted on my Facebook wall, sent me a tweet, GChat message, email, or card; you’ll all be travelling to Canada with me.  The book is nearly filled and I cherish all of you.  Mike, Patrick, John, Becky, Rachel, Ellen, Katie, Sarah, Lisa, Bunky, and Alli- Your positivity is all over this thing!  And on the right is a poem I’d forgotten about that I totally love, thanks to Matt DiCarlo!

My coach.  There are people in this world that are meant to be coaches; that have the talent and patience to train, guide, and inspire others, and Jack Braconnier is such a person.  If you knew how totally neurotic some of his athletes are (self included), you’d probably add mental health counselor to this description.  Despite my weekly “stink-eyes,” I've learned more about training, pushing the limits, and the power of positive thinking, than I could have hoped for my self-deprecating, sarcastic, cynical being.  I always assumed that those people smiling during races were those with great natural ability, basking in their own awesomeness.  In reality, that happiness is available to all of us in the form of going further, faster, or just trying harder than the day before.  I started this journey thinking there was no way I could do an Olympic-distance triathlon and that an IM was absolutely impossible.  Now here I am, full of confidence knowing that I’m going to finish and enjoy every minute of it…okay, I know I’m not going to enjoy EVERY minute of it, but I know how to be tough in those times too.  So, thank you Jack!

I would be remiss if I didn't also thank Holden Comeau in this post.  First for making swim practice something to be enjoyed.  After a 14 year hiatus from competitive swimming, it was nice to hop back in the pool and be happy, not discouraged.  Secondly, for not laughing at me and actually helping me carry my 500 pound, vintage Schwinn Sprint up the stairs at Cadence.  Furthermore, for finding a way to fit it on the bike trainer, and mostly, for acting like the entire thing wasn't completely ridiculous.  Moments of kindness like that aren't forgotten.

Thank you both for all you've done and do for DNation.

My mom.  She’s finally learned the difference between the 5k, the half-marathon and a triathlon!  She ran a home for Wayward Triathletes for the Pittsburgh Tri and helped hose the mud off of us after a long ride.  I cannot wait to have her cheering for me at the finish line as she has my whole life.

My husband, Mark.  I cannot say enough about the man who pours me wine and hot baths, takes care of our little zoo, doesn't mind being left behind for hours on end, or eating alone, then cooking me dinner later, who cleans up the house, and even pretends to be interested when I talk about how many watts I hit during a 15 second sprint, or how fast my 100m splits in the pool were.  He can tolerate an incessant number of “Jack says” or “Training Peaks says” knowing that is usually followed by another reason we can’t do something the way we had originally planned it.  He’s tolerated me getting up at 5am in the morning, including at our friends’ wedding in New Hampshire, only to have to get out of bed a few hours later himself to come fetch me after I took a wrong turn.  I am thankful and lucky every day to be married to such a wonderful and loving person.

Finally, to everyone I've been out of touch with.  To all of you whom I owe phone calls, letters, wedding presents, shower gifts and visits. I promise when this is over, we’ll be back in touch.   

This list surely isn't exhaustive, many of you reading this have helped in ways you know and ways you probably don’t.  I hope to revive this blog so be sure to check back for the IMMT race report!  You can track the insanity as well on IronmanLive.com.  I'm number 398.

Shamrock Marathon Race Report

A little late (like everything) on my Shamrock Race Report...but here it is.

Some background:
Last year my friend Jill and I PR'd big at the Shamrock Half-Marathon in Virginia Beach and before the dust had settled, we'd registered for the full 26.2 for 2013.  Additionally, we'd convinced many friends to do the same, including my hockey/triathlete friend Sue.  It seemed like a great idea until January when we started to doubt our decision and began discussing switching to the half distance.  Instead, we forged on with the long runs and suddenly it was March.  Sadly, Sue suffered a hip injury and Jill's sister began to lose her battle with cancer, meaning my closest commiserates weren't going to be there suffering alongside.  Sue was still able to make the trip and thankfully drove us there, or more importantly, was able to drive us back!  Before we left though, I had a conversation with my tri-coach, Jack about the Race Plan.

The Plan:
Jack's Plan for this marathon was to achieve the original goal Jill and I had set for ourselves (in March 2012) of a 4 hour marathon.  Jill and I, in one of our long training runs, had completely abandoned this idea, in favor of a more reasonable 4:30-ish.  We forgot, however, to pass this info along.

The gist of the Plan was to run around a 9:25 for a while and then begin to negative split the back half of the race.  Yes, negative split a marathon.  As I would say to Jill later on that day, "Well...I think Coach Puppies and Rainbows is back on his Unicorn."  (So sorry, Jack!)

As we drove to VA Beach I tried to figure out what my plan was really going to be: 1) Listen to my coach, (who by the way, is a professional that I've willingly signed up for coaching with) and stick to the Plan, 2) Just go out there to "have fun" and "see how it feels" or 3) Decide to change my plan to run 10:10s so that I could get my 4:30, which would be a PR.  (My previous PR for a marathon was 4:42).  I knew a decision had to be made soon so that I could mentally prepare and so shortly before dinner I decided I would go for it.

Race Day:
I woke up on race day ready.  I was really going to do this, I was going to stop setting the bar low and set it high.  As you know from previous blogs, I really love setting expectations below ground level and then being "shocked" at the far better result.  I liken it to Steve Urkle's uber-sarcastic, "Did I do that?"

axiomamnesia.com

Sue and I arrived at the start line and much to my surprise, given the 70 degree temps the day before, it was freezing.  And the wind...the wind!  With winds gusting over 20 mph, the flags along the finish didn't look like they could hold up.  This photo does it little justice, but you get the idea.

interactives.wavy.com 

Regardless of my now slightly damaged mental state over the weather, I got in my corral and the gun went off.  Miles 1- 5 were shielded from the wind and I was running right around my goal pace for the first half, 9:20.  Miles 6-16 brought the winds.  Sue met me on the boardwalk around Mile 10 where the winds were  the worst (I was running the opposite direction of the people in the photo above).  She was nice enough to be ready with kleenex, chapstick, and encouragement, "It should be better once you turn off the boardwalk! Just 200 yards ahead!"  Sadly, as is often the case with Sue and winds, it wasn't much better.  By the time I reached Mile 15, I had slowed to a 9:28 pace.  And then finally, it happened, the wind was gone!  I took off, I felt great, mentally I started to really believe I could do this.  Miles 16-20 were an average of 9:16, Mile 17 a 9:08.  At Mile 20 I made the turn around the horn of Fort Story and the Plan was destroyed.  My euphoria of being out of the wind was taken away...by more wind.  I came to a dead stop (by the way, this is the worst thing you can do in a marathon).  I was so sad, I wanted to sit down and just start crying.  You could hear the other runners moan and groan when that wave of air hit them, many coming to a stop as I did, completely defeated.  

However, when you come to a dead stop in front of a group of Marines cheering YOU on, you don't stop for long.  If these folks could risk life and limb for our country, pretty sure I could jog another 6 miles through  a little breeze.  Mile 20 a 9:38, Mile 21 a 9:43, Mile 22 a 10:03.  Wheels...falling...off.  Mile 23 brought the greatest relief, the tailwind!  Hooray!  Finally!!  Can't say I was flying, but I was moving, I managed to average a 9:39 those last few miles, finishing with a time of 4:11...a 31 minute PR.  

Of course I was disappointed, but who can complain about a 31 minute PR?  Especially in those conditions. In the end, the conditions weren't the issue, just an excuse.  The real problem was that I waited until the day before the race to believe in myself.  Had I believed all along, I probably would have trained at a faster pace, not letting the fear of not finishing dictate my long runs.  I would have pushed just a little faster on the speed-work, believing I wouldn't fly off of the treadmill.  And most importantly, I wouldn't have abandoned my goal when things weren't going perfectly and the conditions weren't right.

In the end, this is the race I'm most proud of, not only the way I ran, but the way I'm slowly working on changing my attitude.  Being the over-under-achiever isn't fun anymore.  I started this sort of self-reflection and development last year mostly through racing triathlon and it's an on-going transition.  Recently my women's ice hockey team went to the Over-30 National Tournament in Tampa, Florida and finished 3rd.  Having the expectation of taking first was a hard adjustment, but it forced me to hold myself to a higher standard.  And of course the disappointment of taking 3rd burned a little, okay, a lot.  I realized however, the challenge of the unknown is fun.  I'm sure there is some inspirational quote splashed all over Facebook about this, but when you set the bar low, you already know the outcome, and really, why bother trying at that point?

Broad Street Run is coming up this weekend and for the first time, when I got my Race Plan from Jack, I didn't write back some sarcastic comment or make up an excuse. I simply wrote "Sounds good."  

2013 Race Schedule

So yet again, I've let this blog slide into oblivion.  More on that in a later post.

As I've written before, I'm a big believer in resolutions, goals, objectives, ambitions, dreams, etc. and particularly in writing them down on paper, by hand, in permanent ink.  I take all opportunities to write and re-write my goals.  For some reason I didn't do this for 2013.  For the first time that I can remember, I didn't finish writing my New Years Resolutions, February 10th came and went with no resolutions for the Chinese New Year, and here it is mid-March...figure out my goals by May 12 (my birthday) or should I just wait until Rosh Hashanah?!?  (Before a debate is spurred over my apparent ignorance of cultural and religious holidays and appropriate celebration, I write resolutions each year on these dates because anything that has New Year associated with it excites me as a new beginning and honestly, re-writing my goals every hour/day/week would be a little tedious.)

So while my life resolutions are still not written, and may not be for 2013, I must at least get in internet print (same as ink, right) my 2013 goals and racing schedule.  One reason I think I haven't done this activity yet is because I have only one athletic goal this year, only one "A" race, and that is Ironman Mt. Tremblant (IMMT).  Of course, many smaller races will lead up to this event and every event needs one of those measurable goals.


And here it is so far:

March:

• 17th, Shamrock Marathon, VA Beach.  Goal: 4 hours

April: 

• 25th-28th, USA Hockey 30+ National Championships, Tampa FL. Goal: National Champions

May: 

• 5th, Broad Street Run 10 Miler, Philadelphia PA. Goal: Sub 90 min
• 12th (my birthday!), Race for the Cure 5k, Pittsburgh PA. Goal: sub 25 min
• 18th, American Zofingen, New Paltz NY. Goal: Finish Middle-Distance

June: 

• 23rd, Philadelphia Olympic Triathlon, Philadelphia PA. Goal: 2:50 or Top 30% of AG

July: 

• 20th, MidNight Loop 8.4 miles, Philadelphia PA. Goal: 1:15
• 28th, Pittsburgh Olympic Triathlon, Pittsburgh PA. Goal: 2:45 or Top 30% of AG

August: 

• 18th, IM Mt. Tremblant, Mt. Tremblant, Quebec Canada.  Goal: Sub 14 hour

September: 

• 8th, NJ Gran Fondo, Morristown NJ. Goal: Sub 14 min on each hill
• 15th, Atlantic City International Distance Triathlon, AC NJ. Goal: 2:25 

On Politics

So you know who I'm defriending next on Facebook? The next person to write, "OMG, I'm hiding all of these political posts because I can't believe my friends have opinions!  And they are DIFFERENT than mine! #IDontCareAboutPolitics. Except enough to want to defriend you over it."

And after that?  The next person that posts this e-card on their Wall:

From Someecards.com

Did you really think that your friends were mindless dolts with no relevant thoughts?  Were you not aware when you hit "accept" that these people might not share the same beliefs, thoughts, or political views?  If you hate their personalities, why are you friends with them anyway?

The third group that may lose the illustrious title of my Facebook Friend in this Election Year is the group that continues to post something along the lines of, "Like your Facebook status is really going to change my mind!"  Am I the only one who believes that debate and the exchanging of ideas and information is what will move our country forward and get us out of this Partisan Disaster?  What's wrong with reading an article on someone's Wall and saying, "I feel that is biased because it was reported by XYZ News Outlet...here's a post from the other side."  Or, "Here's the full text of Candidate A's comments, if you read it all, you will see that he is misquoted in this snippet that you posted."  Or better yet, if you're the one that posts a misquoted snippet and is called out, wouldn't it be nice to respond, "Oh wow, I see how those words were misconstrued or taken out of context."  And finally, if you really disagree, "That's against how I feel or believe, but to each his own, maybe if you understood where I was coming from you would understand why I feel this way.  Perhaps we could talk about it sometime." If we insist that what we believe is always right without listening to other opinions, we will never achieve compromise or progress, in my opinion anyway.

And for those of you in the #IDontCare camp...shame on you!  Perhaps you should move to a Communist Country where you don't get to have an opinion since you're happy to move along in his world without a thought.  We live in the Greatest Country in the World!  One where our candidates can argue on a public stage, broadcast by multiple TV networks for the entire nation to see, and then shake hands at the end.  While there are some that will disagree with me here, I don't believe for one second that you decide to run for President of the United States of America if you don't genuinely believe that your ideas are what is in the best interest of this country and it's people.  Here's the deal, we only have two candidates with a chance of winning...one of them will win...which means one of them will be leading us Americans.  Have a say, will ya?

Many people say they don't vote or can't choose someone because they don't fully agree with either candidate.  Unless you actually are that person, NO ONE believes everything their chosen candidate says or does is what's best.  But you don't need to vote for someone because you share all of the same ideas, you just need an educated, logical reason.

So here are my suggestions on how to be part of the system without me (or anyone else who gives a damn) dropping you from our friend list:

1. Think about two things: What issues matter most to me? and What issues matter most to this Country?  (There are many items to choose from: Foreign Policy, Health Care, Citizens' Rights, States' Rights, Unemployment, a Balanced Budget, Women's Rights, Gay Rights, Gun-Owner Rights, Agriculture, the Environment, Public Health...and so many more.)  
2. Once you have a priority list, do some research as to which candidate seems to have a plan that is aligned with your belief system.  (Word of caution here: In the month of October, candidates are trying to win over people "in the middle" so answers you find in the media might be a little vague.  A quick trip to the candidate's website should clear things up.)
3. Choose the candidate that seems to have a plan to help you with the issues you've chosen as your top priority!  It's okay if you're split on #1 and have to go down your priority list a little further, it can happen.
4. GO VOTE!  On election day you don't need to disclose to anyone who you voted for, but you will know that you voted for someone based upon your priorities and beliefs.  Should someone ask you and you wish to disclose you can confidently say, "I voted for Romnibama because I support X and he does too." Or, "I think Obaney's plan for job growth will positively impact the industry from which I am currently jobless."  
5. Do not judge those who voted for a different candidate than you did, they have their reasons and priorities as well.  Perhaps you can even have a discussion about why you each voted the way you did so you can achieve a greater understanding of the other.
6. Don't whine if things don't go your way.  Don't threaten to move to another country (unless you are the a fore mentioned thoughtless, absent-minded person that posted #IDontCare, then by all means, go on not caring somewhere else.)  Just because one party wins over another, it doesn't mean that your thoughts and ideas are gone now too, it just means that you need to continue to be involved about what matters to you and how the political system can help you as a citizen achieve what matters to you.

Now get to it!  Below are cheat-sheets to help you with item #2.  You don't even have to use Google. 

http://www.barackobama.com         http://www.mittromney.com

Poconos 70.3 Race Report

So here it is...a race report from the most disappointing 29 minute PR ever.  Sorry for the length.

"The hardest part of finishing is starting."  This couldn't have been more true for this race.  Sadly,  this event corresponded with my school's New Student Orientation, for which I am solely responsible.  On top of Orientation, I've recently assumed responsibility for our International Students.  Many of which planned to arrive (planned being the operative word) over the weekend.  A series of unfortunate events and some snafus with Immigration greatly delayed me getting to Packet Pick-Up and another very special event, which sadly, I had to miss completely.  Luckily, around 3pm on Saturday, I was able to leave my post at Orientation and race like a lunatic to the Poconos in an attempt to get to the Expo before it closed.  

Around 5pm, I made it to the Expo.  It was in the same dark, windowless room as it was last year.  The volunteers were wonderful in helping me get my wristband and pack of bags and stickers (point to point race).  Sadly, as I went to pick up my t-shirt (it should be noted here that I registered for this non-sold out event shortly after registration opened), I was told that only Large and X-Large shirts were left.  As was the case with the New Jersey State Triathlon (for which I also registered early), my husband got a fantastic tech shirt to run in.  I asked if there were directions for getting to each Transition and was told by the lead volunteer, "We sent you this in your Athlete Packet, use those directions."  I was a bit annoyed, but knew I had the packet in the car, so we departed for T1.  

The swim start was only 4 miles from the expo and was quite easy to find.  I would have greatly appreciated the lead volunteer telling me, "turn left, drive 4 miles, turn left again at the sign" instead of having me sit in the car cursing my phone for 10 minutes to tell me that very thing.  We made it to T1 without issue.  I was able to set up my bike (but nothing more) in preparation for the race.

Next, it was off to T2.  It was only a few miles from T1, but it took 45 minutes to get there.  I made it there with plenty of time to spare to drop off my running gear...shoes, socks, hat & race belt.  I hadn't yet talked to my coach and was quite nervous.  Luckily I ran into training friends Patrick and Brady whose familiar faces  were a welcomed sight. 

After that, we were off to the Ramada Limited in Tannersville, PA.  Check-In was a breeze.  The Husband checked us in and I had a few minutes to chat with my coach, Jack (well-deserved plug here for Walton Endurance).  Jack is one of the most positive, yet calming, influences you could possibly imagine.  When it comes to racing, it's very matter-of-fact as to your race plan and then the rest is mental affirmation...eg - "Believe you can finish in the top of your age group,"  "Know that you're capable of running 9:40s," etc.  After our chat, I knew this race was going to be a huge PR.  How huge was going to now be the question.

The Ramada first put us in a Smoking Room (seriously, that still exists!).  Though it had a great fireplace, 20 seconds in the room and I felt like I was being strangled.  They agreed to move us to a room that didn't have the mini-fridge, microwave or fireplace, but was Non-Smoking and had a Jacuzzi tub...in the middle of the room.

Only two shower curtains between the toilet and the bed - awkward!

We went to a local brewpub for dinner.  I had a  few sips of Stout, Husband enjoyed the beer sampler.  I had a wonderful pasta dish and was happily tucked into bed by 9pm.

I slept like a log.  I woke up around 4:45am, mentally walked through my race plan again and got out of bed just before 5am.  I had some coffee and a Clif Bar.   The Husband drove me to the Shuttle Stop to get to T1.  I was lucky enough to sit with a great guy from central New Jersey who was an accomplished runner but in his same year (two and a half) of triathlon as myself.  We had both been cursed with cancelled swims in 2011, and badly sized t-shirts in 2012.  Chatting with him calmed my morning anxiety.

We finally arrived at the start and it was cold...very cold.  I went to my bike to check the brakes, put air in my tires and set up my bike gear.  I had been there just a few minutes, when I mentioned to one of the women next to me that I wanted to use a Port-o-John.  She pointed to a VERY long line, with less than 20 Port-o-Johns and said, "I waited for over 30 minutes, it's 6:45, you'd better get in line."  I quickly got air in my tires, laid out my gear, grabbed my wetsuit, goggles, cap, Morning Clothes Bag, and got in line.  My wave was slated to start at 7:18am.  At 7:15am I was still 10 people back in line for the restroom and the gun hadn't yet gone off for the Pros.  After using the facilities, I handed my Morning Clothes Bag to another competitor's mother, who was nice enough to run it to the bus (as it was pulling away) and we took off in a sprint to the water's edge.  I had just barely zipped up my wetsuit when my wave entered the water.

The water was frigid.  We all gasped as the chilly lake water creeped into our wetsuits.  I immediately went to the right side (knowing we were making right turns) and got to the front.  The gun went off and we took off at a furious pace (mostly to try to warm up).  A few girls took off never to be caught.  About 10 other girls were in a pack, swimming at a good pace.  I decided to draft off of this group and see if I could hang with them.  For the entire 1.2 mile swim we took turns swimming over each other, drafting, passing the violently thrashing men from the previous wave, and pushing each other.  There was never a moment of peace for the 1.2 miles.  I swallowed way more water than I wanted, but came out of the water 16th in my Age Group.  Though I lost track of the others in the final 100 yds., the results show that 9 girls from my age group finished within 20 seconds of my time, so the pack stayed mostly in tact through the finish.  I was feeling great knowing that I was somewhere near the top of the group.  In fact (though only by 6 seconds), I actually beat the overall Age Group winner in the swim portion!

I had a great transition and despite not being able to feel my feet, and took off down the 4 mile descent that was the start of the 56 mile bike ride.  In my previous 70.3 races, I had only averaged 15.5 mph on the bike.  I wanted desperately to have an average of over 16 mph.  I'm happy to report that my Garmin showed 17.9 mph as my moving average.  I felt so good on the bike...easily climbing the hills, pushing hard in the big ring on the flats and passing lots of people.  Shortly after bottle exchange around Mile 40 however, my stomach started cramping.  I shrugged it off, slowed down a little bit and pushed through.When I arrived at T2, there were no other bikes on my rack!  I told The Husband that I didn't feel too hot, but was so excited about the bike situation, I threw my Newtons on and took off.

Still feeling pretty good about this race!

 I happened to glance at my Garmin about .5 miles in and I was running 9:22s.  Holy crap!  I've never run under 10:30s after a swim and bike!  The excitement was fleeting as it all fell apart just before the 2 mile mark.  My stomach started cramping severely, forcing me to walk.  A few seconds later, I was throwing up on the side of the road.  At Mile 6, I had my head on a water station table and was sobbing.  My mind had long gone to a dark place...I was mad at Mark for not coming to get me when I told him my stomach wasn't feeling great at T2, I was mad at every volunteer and competitor who told me to "keep going" or "hang in there,"  I was mad at Jack for telling me I could do this, when clearly I couldn't, I hated myself for every run I'd missed or cut short, and much of my misguided anger was at the Official Motorcycle for not letting me jump on the back and take a DNF...  After being sick again around Mile 10, I started to feel okay.  I started to jog a little faster and finished the last 3 miles feeling pretty good. The last two were even under a 10 minute pace.  My half marathon time was my worst yet, 2:20:34, a 10:43 pace.

I finished the race in 6 hours and 15 minutes.  About 29 minutes under my Syracuse time of 6:44.  My goal at Syracuse had been to break 7 hours and here, I'd beat that by nearly half an hour.  After getting my medal, I took my heat blanket, sat on the sidewalk, and cried.  I've only ever set measurable and attainable goals because I hate to fail or be let down.  I always play it safe so that I feel accomplished when things go better than expected.  As an example: it's been nearly 15 years, but I still regret applying to a "reach" school for college.  Of course, they rejected me, the only school that did...and to this day it upsets me.  Not because they said "no," but because I knew they would and took a chance anyway.

After the race, I was sad that I foolishly let myself believe I could run a sub-10 pace after a swim and bike, I immediately thought, I'm NEVER doing this again.  My typical reaction after a race is "When's the next one?"  A few minutes later the Husband found me, pulled me off of the curb and told me how proud he was of me.  I realized I was proud of myself too, 29 minutes is still 29 minutes, a great PR!  And I didn't flag down that motorcycle and beg for a ride to the finish.  Sure the run was a complete disaster, but I used to hit my brakes at 30 mph on biking descents and I'd hit 43.7 mph during this race, I'd hung with the top girls in the swim, and most of all, I faced adversity and gutted it out, that was something to be proud of.

I have no idea why my stomach decided to revolt, perhaps I didn't mix the right amount of powder into my water bottle, perhaps I swallowed too much lake water during the swim, who knows.  It wasn't a matter of training, that's for sure.  Other than a tiny bit of soreness the day after, my body felt great.  Maybe I did push outside of my known limits, or maybe it was just some bad luck.  The only way to know for sure is to train hard during the winter and try again in 2013!


Other stuff:

• Though I was critical of the Expo, I highly recommend this race.  The new course is great, challenging, and lot of fun, especially those first 4 miles!  Point-to-point races are a pain in the ass, but this one is very well-organized.  The Finish Line Festival is awesome, especially for families.  Gear retrieval was no problem at all.  More Port-o-Johns are needed and I think some of the Shuttle Buses arrived late in the morning, but those are things that can easily be worked out for next year.  
• People often ask why I utilize coaching for triathlon: Am I trying to win something (like money)?  Do I want to be a pro?  Isn't coaching just for people trying to be on the podium?  I'm sure I could write another blog post (and just might) about why coaching is such a great idea.  For me, it's about structure, learning something new (I've only owned a road bike for two years now) and having someone help push me beyond those comfortable limits.  It's as much about a physical challenge as it is a mental one.  I'm doing an Ironman next year and I can't imagine navigating such a task without a training group and coach.  For those who have asked, I'm coached by Jack Braconnier (Professional Triathlete) at Walton Endurance ( http://www.waltonendurance.com/).  As proof that coaching isn't just reserved for Elite Athletes, Walton put my PR on their wall of recent highlights!  Of course many people are up there for winning things, but they celebrate those of us who just want to get faster too!

From Walton Endurance Facebook page.