tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-194027072024-03-07T03:09:33.128-05:00The Adventures of TriSaraTopsFrom Ironman to Mommy, and whatever comes next...Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.comBlogger879125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-23554298492903172732016-09-17T21:51:00.000-05:002016-09-17T22:01:58.783-05:00Race Report: Ironman Wisconsin, 2016"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go." --T.S. Eliot<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2EzGja8YqVa_W0Qj8mixvtg7tKBoIDorxB1OwQReVNM_SoUyjefTv9SSUaBBCF97gSzmUh075Q0LziDNgns4Zdj4s1e5m59qcGQhCXdcYOa2Qi32eeoOc34ZSd_BjdqNVvp-30g/s1600/beginning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2EzGja8YqVa_W0Qj8mixvtg7tKBoIDorxB1OwQReVNM_SoUyjefTv9SSUaBBCF97gSzmUh075Q0LziDNgns4Zdj4s1e5m59qcGQhCXdcYOa2Qi32eeoOc34ZSd_BjdqNVvp-30g/s320/beginning.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
This is a tale of two races, a decade apart.<br />
<br />
I always knew I wanted one more shot. I just wasn't sure if I'd ever get it. So when my friend Andy wanted to do an Ironman I put out the feelers to Matt and he <strike>didn't say no</strike> said yes so I went for it.<br />
<br />
The second time you do an Ironman is a little like the second time you head to the hospital for labor. You know what you're in for this time. It's going to hurt. A LOT. But the end is pretty unreal and definitely worth it. <br />
<br />
Training for an Ironman while working full time with two kids at 39 is a lot different than training for an Ironman while working full time at 29. For one thing, RECOVERY. Like, wow. It made a huge difference this time and I would feel the workouts for days. Luckily I had <a href="http://emilycocks.com/">Coach Emily </a>to keep me on track and help me walk the fine line between wrecking myself and getting in high volume. I trained as most people juggling too many things do--seemingly never enough and at odd times. Running laps around the pool and park while the kids were at swim team; finishing my long rides at the baseball fields so I could watch Jackson play, swimming while my kids played on the diving boards. But I got almost everything in, and I felt super fit going into the race.<br />
<br />
I knew, however, how difficult this bike course was. Because I had been there before. And I knew that there could really not be a bike course more perfectly set up for my weaknesses. But, the timing of this race was perfect for school and life so I sucked it up, because, <a href="http://www.ironmanwisconsin.com/">Ironman</a>. It's not supposed to be easy, anyway. And call me a brand snob, but I wanted the next (only? last?) full I'd do to be an Ironman-branded event. They throw one hell of a party, and I wanted in.<br />
<br />
So Ironman Wisconsin it was.<br />
<br />
Most normal people arrived Thursday but I only get three personal days for the ENTIRE school year and I just couldn't see using two of them in the third week of school...so I left after school Friday. Here's how it went: caught a one-way plane to O'Hare. Graded APUSH essays on the development of identity in the colonial era. Bought a bus ticket from Chicago to Madison. Graded more APUSH essays until I was carsick and felt like hurling. Arrived in Madison at 8pm CST or 9pm EST. Collapsed at Rob's house. Matt and the kids drove after school Friday and stayed in Chicago to sleep, then met me in Madison the next day.<br />
<br />
Oh, forgot to mention we bought a house and had to clean our entire house so we could show it while we were gone. The week before Ironman was the most exhausting week I can remember. I was looking forward to Ironman SO I COULD RELAX. That's kind of sad, but it's the truth. (Also, we sold our house while I was on the bike course--so it worked!)<br />
<br />
Spending time with Rob's freaking adorable family was so fun. I miss my Evotri teammates and it was so good to see him! He kept me laughing and relatively calm while I got my copious amounts of bags together.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxqs79PaFrz8C5H6d98uLSqYNzIonXxbgwtoxB8uBzrgancx_8-01lCwou_xO0bmYr7hJkV-p4hgASpG-yOxrFBlL3OJ0kwY2MQWoWPQR_oqTLM9k5isqvrJ__uyiSzfgujAm66g/s1600/bikepreview.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxqs79PaFrz8C5H6d98uLSqYNzIonXxbgwtoxB8uBzrgancx_8-01lCwou_xO0bmYr7hJkV-p4hgASpG-yOxrFBlL3OJ0kwY2MQWoWPQR_oqTLM9k5isqvrJ__uyiSzfgujAm66g/s320/bikepreview.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
My family grabbed dinner that night and I was so energized from having all of them there--it meant so much to me that they all drove out so far just for one day!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhisy0Ia5-JfBZqfIWyJO_Ac1FtL-fXL0m9LBk1OCGqkQwmsnOYzI2Z_ILUapsshyphenhyphenQscrcYZ5jmnB2nYX5-_7nfT8hfG4-c_aRHFVRBX_elkfGbolgS2cPs480lPuARl-VujkgWTA/s1600/dinner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhisy0Ia5-JfBZqfIWyJO_Ac1FtL-fXL0m9LBk1OCGqkQwmsnOYzI2Z_ILUapsshyphenhyphenQscrcYZ5jmnB2nYX5-_7nfT8hfG4-c_aRHFVRBX_elkfGbolgS2cPs480lPuARl-VujkgWTA/s320/dinner.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Race morning I got up, tried to eat as much as I could (nervous, so it was tough), and then we headed up to the race. The weather literally could not have been more perfect. It was a far cry from 2006, which you can read about <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2006/09/happy-ironday.html">here</a>, <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2006/09/lovely-day-for-ride.html">here</a>, and <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2006/09/runnin-down-dream-part-i.html">here</a>. I was excited to get it all started.<br />
<br />
Except I was terrified.<br />
<br />
See I knew, really knew, what I was in for this time. The lows would be really low. I knew it would hurt, I knew I'd doubt myself, I knew there would be times when I wanted to quit. But I also knew how amazing that finish would be. I knew that if I could finish, then I would show my kids that anything is possible if you put your mind to it. <br />
<br />
I wanted to get to the end so badly but as I stood there and tears welled up in my eyes, I knew that in Ironman, there are no guarantees. You just have to trust yourself to deal with what the day gives you and hope you are strong enough.<br />
<br />
It was scary. I said bye to Rob and tried to bat away a few tears that snuck out.<br />
<br />
I headed to the water, said a prayer, heard Mike Reilly say, "Have the best day of your life!" and then heard the cannon go off.<br />
<br />
The day had begun.<br />
<br />
The trip to the first buoy was chaos, but this time I was prepared. I got kicked, punched, my butt got grabbed (what was that all about?! STOP IT PEOPLE), my goggles got punched. I stopped often to let people go by who were way too aggressive. I "moo-ed" at the first buoy, because that's what you do. As I turned to head across the LONG way of the lake, I got in a little more of a rhythm, but was still pretty constantly surrounded by feet and arms. It seemed like the lake was never ever going to end and in my head, I was thinking I wasn't going to go any faster than 2006 and it was going to make me mad but oh well. I expected to see something around 1:30 when I finally got to the shore. Blarg. I was gonna be mad.<br />
<br />
Except I didn't see 1:30. I saw a 1:18!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6hSET54g1Q_J73MkXtPq1jUwRwYgbaQsLO1ml3r16ja7GS_6iZzDjfA1fNum720kR5aujP134VhfH8BDC3sS8NeM_Q_Q_DWX7TIqN_rzJN_5F0Wk4UuQPOtKLFUJBNkSXXAKuw/s1600/happyswim.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6hSET54g1Q_J73MkXtPq1jUwRwYgbaQsLO1ml3r16ja7GS_6iZzDjfA1fNum720kR5aujP134VhfH8BDC3sS8NeM_Q_Q_DWX7TIqN_rzJN_5F0Wk4UuQPOtKLFUJBNkSXXAKuw/s320/happyswim.jpg" width="261" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is me, happy with a triathlon swim, for the first time in 15 years</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I have never been so happy in a triathlon swim before! I am a notorious underachiever in open water swims and for the first time ever, I felt like I did what I actually could do. I saw Rob and all the wetsuit peelers and I screamed "ROB I ACTUALLY HAD A GOOD SWIM" mostly because I was completely shocked!<br />
<br />
Ran up the helix in my Wonder Woman swimsuit which got lots of cheers and laughs! T1 was full of amazing volunteers who helped me get all my clothes ready, shoes on, and nutrition in order. Those volunteers in Wisconsin are UNBELIEVABLE people. I'm telling you, Ironman may be the evil empire, but they sure know how to throw a race. <br />
<br />
All smiles on the bike as I started!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpKfkj80iWc1XCFnXrZpDn45h7JKwgo-EguH157c73uA1n8Nr-m8iPlKV5IBR-fSRcXNJI3nplrl-MEDRnf8CoaW_gcbawFetuOjclbi4CsgiO1VMZi1-MphS1BE1pZo0sVKf08g/s1600/bikestart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpKfkj80iWc1XCFnXrZpDn45h7JKwgo-EguH157c73uA1n8Nr-m8iPlKV5IBR-fSRcXNJI3nplrl-MEDRnf8CoaW_gcbawFetuOjclbi4CsgiO1VMZi1-MphS1BE1pZo0sVKf08g/s320/bikestart.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
Getting out of downtown was a little dicey as we had to go through a city parkway with hairpin turns, bumps, and a LOT of people. I was so afraid of getting busted for drafting that I took it super easy on the first 14 or so miles until we got to the "loop." This loop would be two times, but due to construction, a little different....there was this hill called "Barlow" that everyone was nervously mumbling about. I know I trained on mostly flat terrain, because, life, but I did get some hills in and knew I made progress on them. What was this Barlow? I asked Rob, would I know it when I got there?<br />
<br />
HA! I remember asking the nurse in my prenatal appointments if I'd "know what a contraction was" when it happened.<br />
<br />
YES. YES, YOU IDIOT, YOU WILL KNOW.<br />
<br />
Barlow was every bit as tough as everyone said it would be, but the crowd support was amazing. I made it up about 1/3 of the way, but when I saw I was making literally no progress compared to the approximately 75% of people around me who were walking it, I said a few bad words and then said "NOT WORTH IT" out loud, got off my bike, and walked it. And did not feel one iota of remorse. It was barely mile 40, and I knew it would be a long day.<br />
<br />
The first loop was tough, but I took it very very easy. I came back to Verona and saw my family, and got a hit of energy just from knowing they were there for me. It made the doubt temporarily subside.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibH1vWQtvDwY6Mgp0TY680YSDNzbuAJaFBcCHb6wG8WXWvuai235i-syTw_-D9ZdtL7PaTKVuUG61We-0Uu7r_uTj7pGlA7WV5Ry8FDc6ga5rff9Hp7z88tXDUSfkynzkDU3yUCQ/s1600/bugandbean.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibH1vWQtvDwY6Mgp0TY680YSDNzbuAJaFBcCHb6wG8WXWvuai235i-syTw_-D9ZdtL7PaTKVuUG61We-0Uu7r_uTj7pGlA7WV5Ry8FDc6ga5rff9Hp7z88tXDUSfkynzkDU3yUCQ/s320/bugandbean.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little shadows, waiting for me</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNKTcS5rsx76Qzhbos_T-yiIq88seyYsuzl283FFBnrgH9WgIDdxQFsLGVMvmfzz_WThQpR6AHSGMBl3Pnfo84MGnPDcmOyO32mdarrSVlq83UArx7dw25zfx2WQT7jLleprAkHg/s1600/verona.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNKTcS5rsx76Qzhbos_T-yiIq88seyYsuzl283FFBnrgH9WgIDdxQFsLGVMvmfzz_WThQpR6AHSGMBl3Pnfo84MGnPDcmOyO32mdarrSVlq83UArx7dw25zfx2WQT7jLleprAkHg/s320/verona.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Because there was some doubt creeping in a little; I know what I can do on flatter courses and let's just say it's a good 4-5 mph faster than I was doing on this course. It got me down. I thought, "maybe I should have done Rev3 and been done with it." But, I <i>chose</i> this. I wanted another shot. This course was not about my fastest time ever, this was about a journey ten years in the making. This was my choice; this was about my family, this was about showing myself how far I have come and what I can do, and showing my children that you can do impossible things if you put your mind to it. It was never supposed to be easy, but the relentlessness of the hills and my own doubt started to really get to me. <br />
<br />
Miles 70-95 were a dark place. First, there was a creepy clown hiding in a remote field that honked a horn and menacingly said, "Go faster." <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1oaAXO8ZfSdbxEv92oTKK4q2OnfqofmIPijf8lgV3r_XYXlXyRQq-SKnA6E2JudPH7vhsN1OD05JR20n-US9sHnt9-vwn2BgF2ZXPlhUQx0sKP_6vED3N7_TDrHpGLQkaroIcDw/s1600/serialkillerclown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1oaAXO8ZfSdbxEv92oTKK4q2OnfqofmIPijf8lgV3r_XYXlXyRQq-SKnA6E2JudPH7vhsN1OD05JR20n-US9sHnt9-vwn2BgF2ZXPlhUQx0sKP_6vED3N7_TDrHpGLQkaroIcDw/s320/serialkillerclown.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THIS IS HIM. WHY. WHY. WHY.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Actually, that was hilarious. Thank you, creepy soul-stealing, serial-killer clown. <br />
<br />
Other than that, I was full of doubt and pain and cursing the seemingly endless false-flat back to Mt. Horeb. I started to hate everything: every breeze, every hill, every person there to cheer on the course (how dare they tell me I'm doing good! stop it, you nice people!) every cow, every piece of cheese I've ever encountered, and the entire damn state of Wisconsin.<br />
<br />
Around mile 80 or so, I knew I needed to shift my focus. I said, out loud, "GET OVER YOURSELF" and focused on my dear friends Jeff and Mallory, Mike and Amy, and Sam and her mom Ginny, who are dealing with MUCH more than a stupid hilly bike course. It helped...a lot. I said a few prayers, I reminded myself I chose this pain and so many others don't get to choose it. <br />
<br />
Back to Verona and turning off the loop to head home made me smile. I was going to be okay; the worst was over. There were a few rollers on the way back in and I was, quite frankly, out of steam. I thought "just keep moving forward" and knew my split would be slow--over 7 hours--which made me respect 29-year-old me for doing the course in the pouring rain at 8:14. Suddenly, I'm less ashamed about that. <br />
<br />
Can I ride a course faster? Of course. But not this one. That was the best I could possibly do to set myself up for a marathon--yikes, a MARATHON--and I came into T2 smiling to more amazing volunteers and Matt and my brother Mike snapping a really inspiring picture of me:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH25oWz0F-bpxoaBRgvb1x_gSACp8fQkyna8h5fTiSHKONrA0cRR9AV7Rtz2KzMpLeyoz20fXsGjYOd9ixoYF3tj2tg66dX3D_VUG40qD1gEPKqveN25nG0OOXGOwLJwFhhjsPuA/s1600/portopotty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH25oWz0F-bpxoaBRgvb1x_gSACp8fQkyna8h5fTiSHKONrA0cRR9AV7Rtz2KzMpLeyoz20fXsGjYOd9ixoYF3tj2tg66dX3D_VUG40qD1gEPKqveN25nG0OOXGOwLJwFhhjsPuA/s1600/portopotty.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Yeah, thanks guys. :)<br />
<br />
This run. This run is two loops and you are almost NEVER alone. The weather was absolutely perfect and led to college kids hanging out on their front yards, massive waves of people along State Street, and Zac Efron. Yes, apparently according to my students, his brother was doing the race and I must have ran right by him, so now we're best friends. It's legit. I checked.<br />
<br />
As I started the run, I heard Robby yelling numbers out at Run Special Needs, and as he saw me he stopped to say into the megaphone, "Sara Ziemnik....is awesome." It was a great way to start the run! Thanks, bro.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
The first ten miles were tough. I was moving but hurting, and I seemed to keep slowing down. There's a few hills on campus that are just tough when you're already depleted, and I walked them and every aid station. But I felt like my stomach was okay...I was just running out of steam. Right at Mile 10 I walked an aid station and this nice girl said to me as I must have looked completely dejected, "I know it doesn't feel like it, but you're doing amazing." I nodded weakly and said "thanks." And then I saw my ENTIRE family--just at the moment I really needed to:</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvKvGzWGD9FMJOn0-GPt2zgyT96W4JYyYy1XFvNDK9LC35jIxvRZ2OOIFO8xupIz9Lst4GmXJO45fNvyJyNWDrmLF273fkbuc-Qvxmf8K0h2BR-lDJlbbjWChSCJapWtOux1uXQ/s1600/dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvKvGzWGD9FMJOn0-GPt2zgyT96W4JYyYy1XFvNDK9LC35jIxvRZ2OOIFO8xupIz9Lst4GmXJO45fNvyJyNWDrmLF273fkbuc-Qvxmf8K0h2BR-lDJlbbjWChSCJapWtOux1uXQ/s320/dad.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fact: hugs from your Dad make Ironman less painful</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV4TPIEY_KqG4bgB4DF_4k3nYknUV9tx8VbJfIAEXC_GUAYKI9rOZaCAN27bdZshFpZwJCxzY0gObiQhhCt71nyVbnHqwqVRtJ-fU3j4zZFgGXvnhiYdeQtwaWg5IW5e9Vz5WPvQ/s1600/energized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV4TPIEY_KqG4bgB4DF_4k3nYknUV9tx8VbJfIAEXC_GUAYKI9rOZaCAN27bdZshFpZwJCxzY0gObiQhhCt71nyVbnHqwqVRtJ-fU3j4zZFgGXvnhiYdeQtwaWg5IW5e9Vz5WPvQ/s320/energized.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGFyxtACqDW-3jZD1RkXUhUVQsUwi-9nUPbqWecPFTpR64Xc8TwrVMEKiKRnYYeT7yz-wZpvZemZpIP0jss0jsxZOBc2RrHpFIMbM9CmxIKLt0rGXftetS1GlMbXbBQ1pPszUeQ/s1600/highfive.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGFyxtACqDW-3jZD1RkXUhUVQsUwi-9nUPbqWecPFTpR64Xc8TwrVMEKiKRnYYeT7yz-wZpvZemZpIP0jss0jsxZOBc2RrHpFIMbM9CmxIKLt0rGXftetS1GlMbXbBQ1pPszUeQ/s320/highfive.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">high five to Emmy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7wK4E7-xuHu5ZVbA6b3wa6XSKIyIjmW44gzyx8il6_MSLIolwLd3IYeJyDgsK9X-f4AEOoyq4rPndkG1x9KhYu_2SO2a-WyYHee62GNj4Ra7iacSZIjAxIx57qfGonsTsALF1Xw/s1600/mile10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7wK4E7-xuHu5ZVbA6b3wa6XSKIyIjmW44gzyx8il6_MSLIolwLd3IYeJyDgsK9X-f4AEOoyq4rPndkG1x9KhYu_2SO2a-WyYHee62GNj4Ra7iacSZIjAxIx57qfGonsTsALF1Xw/s320/mile10.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girl in the red was the one who had just tried to cheer me up. Thanks, girl in the red. :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was the boost I needed. I shuffled past Robby who gave me another shout-out at special needs, turned around right at the finish line, and knew I'd be back. Did a little math in my head and decided I wanted to see a 13 at the end. That was going to keep me going. <br />
<br />
So the weird thing is that although my splits show me slowing down, I FELT better and better. Food was staying down although it was getting harder to eat and drink, and I could keep moving. Lots of people around me were running out of steam and I didn't seem to be, and that felt good. There was still steam, it was just a tiny bit. Enough that I could smile, though.<br />
<br />
Right around mile 18 or 19 I saw Beth--she was walking so I told her to keep it up--she was injured so badly last spring that even doing this Ironman was in jeopardy, so for her to finish it as strong as she did is simply amazing. So proud of my friend!<br />
<br />
As I hit the last 10K, I entered the "barf zone" where I felt like I was most assuredly going to hurl. It was a matter of time. So I tried to take small sips of water and gatorade, but Gu actually made me wretch..so I switched to potato chips. WHAT? I don't even like potato chips. But they sounded AMAZING and it worked, so there you go.<br />
<br />
Miles 21-25 were a blur. I just kept shuffling and hoping that I didn't barf. It was getting dark and the sunset over the lake was beautiful. I kept thinking of one of my favorite Hamilton lyrics, "how lucky we are to be alive right now!" while I "ran" slash shuffled. It was slow, but I was making progress and every step got me closer to the end.<br />
<br />
The last mile I had a big stupid grin on my face. My watch had died sometime on the bike so I had no idea what I was doing pace-wise, but I felt like it had to be good enough for a 13. I turned the corner around the capitol, and I got tears in my eyes. I was going to do it. I'm a mom of two kids who works full time and I have no business even attempting something like this, but because of love and support---NOT talent, because I honestly don't have much of that--love and support and my unwillingness to ever quit, I was going to do it. <i>Again</i>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTdb5Ys7NFlkpg-vjfJRqsnN2Ev6TSqJeTP_D2ul8M3K0ik-g9pEvOgnMfYas1W7QvzSgTYMQwAebDCEXmtfVu227Qy0GWv3sKtT2c03LdHmuvAmOEZkC4PDLeuRvNLi_IATGL5A/s1600/1_m-100735453-DIGITAL_HIGHRES-1364_089480-3698750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTdb5Ys7NFlkpg-vjfJRqsnN2Ev6TSqJeTP_D2ul8M3K0ik-g9pEvOgnMfYas1W7QvzSgTYMQwAebDCEXmtfVu227Qy0GWv3sKtT2c03LdHmuvAmOEZkC4PDLeuRvNLi_IATGL5A/s320/1_m-100735453-DIGITAL_HIGHRES-1364_089480-3698750.JPG" width="214" /></a></div>
The tears that threatened to come out as I rounded the capitol stopped and were instantly replaced by laughing. I could not stop laughing, and I put my hands in the air, high fived everyone I could, and just screamed like a complete lunatic.<br />
<br />
I got to be in this finish line again--a place that I can barely put into words, but I tried ten years ago here:<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><i><span style="color: #29303b; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">"I have never felt more alive in my 29 short years than I did in those 20 seconds.</span><br style="color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="color: #29303b; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I felt so aware of </span><span style="color: #29303b; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">being</span><span style="color: #29303b; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">. Of seeing light and feeling wet and hearing laughter. Of feeling my feet ache and loving my husband and adoring my friends and feeling unwavering gratitude for my parents. The smell of rain and mud and sweat all around me...the squish of my shoes on my feet, the feel of my hands holding my head in disbelief, that this body--this collection of bones and nerves and cells could </span><span style="color: #29303b; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">do</span><span style="color: #29303b; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> this."</span></i></span><br />
<br />
It's something like that.<br />
<br />
I saw Matt and I yelled to him, saw a 13--13:54.21, to be exact, let out a huge yell, and hit the dab for Jackson.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLzubWgOrZiUEJpwzSGtHjwoY3SncfE_ur9KhxxvKPZ3pk3H-q5ND3Dr3yfFb3YIj23q4ngOx42Dp-LbmcvqajYSxb8IReVnmNqlGtTeT72sxPGi_yZctrhQsYvl92GrGSofaIA/s1600/hitthedab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLzubWgOrZiUEJpwzSGtHjwoY3SncfE_ur9KhxxvKPZ3pk3H-q5ND3Dr3yfFb3YIj23q4ngOx42Dp-LbmcvqajYSxb8IReVnmNqlGtTeT72sxPGi_yZctrhQsYvl92GrGSofaIA/s320/hitthedab.jpg" width="184" /></a></div>
<br />
I still can't put into words why I wanted to do this or what I feel. In many ways, I'm more proud of this finish than any other race I have ever attempted. In other ways, I'm even more proud of myself for finishing this course 10 years ago in pouring rain.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3rwVj0oCGPnW6FetZW85yBQOgiDaWcbf0eBSKAS6VmcUJC4KbYlTVffZqroz1ec3aq7mow_-4TPh1ThHhFQTCjlGMQQyazHY_VPdUWf59DBNMgoPbrfiFkTrI7kZagznS-16ZoA/s1600/2_m-100735453-DIGITAL_HIGHRES-1364_092508-3698751.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3rwVj0oCGPnW6FetZW85yBQOgiDaWcbf0eBSKAS6VmcUJC4KbYlTVffZqroz1ec3aq7mow_-4TPh1ThHhFQTCjlGMQQyazHY_VPdUWf59DBNMgoPbrfiFkTrI7kZagznS-16ZoA/s320/2_m-100735453-DIGITAL_HIGHRES-1364_092508-3698751.JPG" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is like the biggest smile I have possibly created, ever</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I broke every single conventional rule of training and did this my way, on my own terms. And for that to work and for me to take 98 minutes off my time is something that I will be forever proud of. But I think the journey of getting to the start line can't be underestimated or under-appreciated. I picked a course that timed up with my career--and Matt's--so I wouldn't sacrifice what I need (and want) to do in that classroom. I started almost all of my rides at the sunrise and leaving from my house, so I wouldn't miss time with my family. I missed training on hills like I <strike>probably</strike> definitely should have, but I got to see some amazing sunrises; I got to swim while the sun came up, too. My children watched me train all summer and I think they are old enough to really remember this...and I hope I set a good example for them of aiming high and daring to do something a little crazy. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNn1mXGm5eL5kRouGwkbBfT_Od7BBzfY6Px7al3kLO_5ARYu8yVV3j8qYKLjtTQnAcfAC_A69qjTrocj5t__rcqfTCPWn-2j6FkDun6y8LlmAzefIyT7He7NAwZ1xcvBA1UHFnSQ/s1600/bro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNn1mXGm5eL5kRouGwkbBfT_Od7BBzfY6Px7al3kLO_5ARYu8yVV3j8qYKLjtTQnAcfAC_A69qjTrocj5t__rcqfTCPWn-2j6FkDun6y8LlmAzefIyT7He7NAwZ1xcvBA1UHFnSQ/s320/bro.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My little bro!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-w66u1Mb9iv-NTcwkLwUWtbcuCd0cqlW75P2SmwA2jfpA8TGXpQF1XkE_J4-k_OGGfbgi8KQvZu6LddEQXhbzir49zdOSx5GLHzVXMIDAt0AXnow0TuwzZn0f0DTYOa7feVWu4g/s1600/robby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-w66u1Mb9iv-NTcwkLwUWtbcuCd0cqlW75P2SmwA2jfpA8TGXpQF1XkE_J4-k_OGGfbgi8KQvZu6LddEQXhbzir49zdOSx5GLHzVXMIDAt0AXnow0TuwzZn0f0DTYOa7feVWu4g/s320/robby.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robby and I look like we were just crowned Homecoming King and Queen of Spandex High School</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpPc2HHUHCKvo7yVT7cyIK8GAhk3NwOtUtrgOpIBv3WZYDwnTH1BkUh4P6OLtJ_VMjqtFJ29kl0nQz_2LP9YoxhFf4Em5zYRxl0gGIVhZKyWiG5pE19l_V45Ay9aaoiJ-aOKdMcw/s1600/squad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpPc2HHUHCKvo7yVT7cyIK8GAhk3NwOtUtrgOpIBv3WZYDwnTH1BkUh4P6OLtJ_VMjqtFJ29kl0nQz_2LP9YoxhFf4Em5zYRxl0gGIVhZKyWiG5pE19l_V45Ay9aaoiJ-aOKdMcw/s320/squad.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SQUAD</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I am forever thankful and grateful to my family for their support, without which I would never, ever have been able to do this. This was not me; it was them, and that's the truth.<br />
<br />
Gratitude isn't possibly a word that's big enough for my amazing coach, <a href="http://emilycocks.com/">Emily</a>. I started working with Emily when I was about 8 months post-baby with Jackson...and since then, it's official: I have had <u>every single PR in every. single. distance</u>.... 5k, 10k, half marathon, marathon, sprint triathlon, olympic triathlon, half ironman, and now, full Ironman. Thank you, Emily, for always knowing exactly what to say and how to help me fit this love of triathlon into one busy life. Your advice and your friendship means so much to me.<br />
<br />
I am grateful to dedicate my race to my friends battling cancer and to the <a href="http://ourvillageproject.com/">Village Project</a>, where I was able to raise over $1,000 to help support families in my community as they struggle with something much harder than I can imagine or than I felt on that course.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgBa-oUaI_BSQ4HIYhXM4h5r_dkooZXmjdeSSBrfWmuTs_DVCtf_-js9xRNvXHPlBaJGKFP-L15INRRTztYT-GrG67KQgxHr__OatPCvDCs4zFtcc3rZ5g_GhoUu2A1qvjSCKSww/s1600/theend.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgBa-oUaI_BSQ4HIYhXM4h5r_dkooZXmjdeSSBrfWmuTs_DVCtf_-js9xRNvXHPlBaJGKFP-L15INRRTztYT-GrG67KQgxHr__OatPCvDCs4zFtcc3rZ5g_GhoUu2A1qvjSCKSww/s320/theend.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
It was an epic, perfect, painful, love-filled day, and I could not have asked for a better Ironman.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFaJlxK6lONMtST1eQuH5qSNAVhH47wwozvqMMP6lbO88tnOvMQjaRcxHKWQiEiEZ27zKXCX04A5IkOH707c_XJJyuEYZnYcXVFHToZma1DuWwiI8zTPTy7n7hyDPSn8MdNr0R_A/s1600/ironfans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFaJlxK6lONMtST1eQuH5qSNAVhH47wwozvqMMP6lbO88tnOvMQjaRcxHKWQiEiEZ27zKXCX04A5IkOH707c_XJJyuEYZnYcXVFHToZma1DuWwiI8zTPTy7n7hyDPSn8MdNr0R_A/s320/ironfans.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-54189978883424302262016-04-01T15:09:00.000-05:002016-04-01T15:09:22.464-05:00So hey, that swim's not half bad.So that crazy week of workouts?<br />
<br />
I'm getting most of them in! With LOTS of help. My parents were super awesome yesterday and offered to watch the kids so I could swim.<br />
<br />
Got up early and ran 7 miles on the treadmill (gross, but necessary) and then had breakfast with the kids. Then, my mom came over and I took off for the pool around 10. <br />
<br />
Got there, walked into the locker room, and saw LOTS AND LOTS of older ladies.<br />
<br />
Oh no. That could only mean one thing.<br />
<br />
I dashed out to the pool and saw they had already removed the lane lines. One of my former students was guarding, so I asked him, "Hey, is there a water aerobics class today?"<br />
<br />
He replied, "yep, in 5 minutes."<br />
<br />
FAIL<br />
<br />
So I had to swim in the super hot and super annoying 20 yard pool...it reminded me of last time's Ironman when TriEric and I did a ton of training in the warm gross YMCA that was 20 yards. (Why the water aerobics classes aren't in the warmer pool, I will never know.)<br />
<br />
So, sigh.<br />
<br />
I had a nice workout all ready to go but it was very time-specific and had 50s and stuff in it and there was just no way.<br />
<br />
I remembered that another swim workout I was supposed to do involved 3 X 1000s. I didn't remember the specifics, but I figured that if I could just get in 3X1000 in the small, hot, annoying pool, that would be good enough.<br />
<br />
Busted it out in around 53 minutes, counting a few times of getting my old cap adjusted and my goggles to stop sucking my eyeballs out of my head. So that was a good confidence booster, because if I can swim 3000 yards in 53 minutes with no training and no trouble, I'll be able to work my way up to the roughly 4250ish that are in Ironman by September 11. <br />
<br />
(The key, of course, is to get to the point where that feels like an easy warmup, and I can't say that was the case yesterday.)<br />
<br />
But, hey! I needed that. <br />
<br />
Tomorrow I'm going to run with Ana and try to get in 1:40-1:50 as some good base miles. Then, if I can squeeze in a swim Sunday somehow, I will have done all the workouts that Coach Emily asked me to, although I had to shorten a few. What started as me thinking I couldn't even get in half has turned into me almost getting most in!<br />
<br />
Progress, indeed.Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-30633323394695763532016-03-30T09:50:00.000-05:002016-03-30T09:50:34.447-05:00It's like apples and Mount EverestHi there!<br />
<br />
It's been a while. <br />
<br />
See, I had intentions of posting at least weekly, describing my training and writing witty anecdotes like I did ten years ago the first time around. I posted almost every.single.day. the last time around. Surely I could handle once a week, right?<br />
<br />
Ha! Ha ha ha ha haahahahhahahahahahahha that's cute.<br />
<br />
So it's only March 30th but I have learned something already:<br />
<br />
This time is <i>much</i> different. I can't expect it to be anything like the past Ironman, in training or in execution. And there's some good to this and some bad, too. <br />
<br />
For instance, twitter, instagram and facebook have all made it easier for me to post quick updates or pictures from training. Yay for that! Back in the day, I feel like this blog was the only way for me to document the journey, and sometimes, you just don't have time for that. Like, all the time, it seems for me.<br />
<br />
But I will always keep this place as a digital record of thoughts that are more than 140 characters. There is still a need for a place like this for me, so I'm not going anywhere...but you can definitely not hold your breath for my daily blog posts here, like I did last time.<br />
<br />
One thing is true both last time and this time around: <i>Ironman is a big fat reminder that you think you are in control but you have no idea.</i><br />
<br />
Case in point: the first week of February, Emery and Jackson both got a stomach bug. Then I got a MUTANT STOMACH BUG FROM HELL that had me unable to keep food in me for almost six days. And Matt did not get it because clearly he is a robot. But, I was out of school for 5 days--an entire week--and I have way more responsibilities at work now than I did ten years ago. Teaching AP US History and serving as department chair means more essays, more papers, and more meetings. <br />
<br />
To say I was buried was a complete understatement. It took me almost 2-3 weeks to get completely un-buried. <br />
<br />
Then, just as I started to get back into the swing of things, I screwed it up again. During the first week in March I took part in a charity fundraiser at school that required me to do something stupid to make the kids laugh. No problem! I can do that! I do stupid things daily! However, I took that a *little* too seriously and, long story short, ended up with self-induced whiplash due to headbanging on stage to make the kids laugh. I ended up in the ER getting a CAT scan after I was passing out the following night at a restaurant scaring the entire establishment and one of my good friends who was with me. So I lost some time training due to that stunt, too. To be honest, I'm still not 100% and am working on dealing with the fallout of this poor life decision (that was really funny, though).<br />
<br />
I feel like I keep sending <a href="http://www.emilyacocks.blogspot.com/">Coach Emily</a> these ridiculous emails full of excuses and disappointments. I remember last decade this time around I was doing much longer workouts, more consistently, and now I have the occasional sick kid or self-induced headbanging whiplash or meetings and a soccer practice and there goes another workout, again. <br />
<br />
I looked at this week's workouts and about LOST my MIND. There was a lot there, and I panicked. How am I ever going to get any of this done? How am I ever going to get HALF of this done?<br />
<br />
What <i>HAVE</i> I DONE?<br />
<br />
Maybe I have no business doing this. It's not the same as it was ten years ago. I was 28, kid-less, with probably half the responsibilities that I have at work now. I could wreck my body on long rides and runs and recover quickly. <br />
<br />
Now I'm 38, with two kids who are busy and involved, and with a LOT more responsibilities at work than I ever had a decade ago.<br />
<br />
I panicked and wrote to Coach Emily that I expected it to be different, but not <i>this</i> different. "It's not apples and oranges," I said. "It's apples and Mount Everest and I did not anticipate this."<br />
<br />
As she always does, she pulled me back from the ledge a bit and reminded me that this time of year always sucks hard, and that I need to stay in the moment. I believe her first line of the email was:<br />
<br />
"ONE. DAY. AT. A. TIME."<br />
<br />
If she could smack me across the head, I'm sure she would. But that was left to Matt, who watched me burst into tears when I saw my schedule on Workoutlog.com and did the equivalent of a smacking for a triathlete. He said,<br />
<br />
"I think you need to go out for a ride. Just a little one."<br />
<br />
And he pushed me out the door.<br />
<br />
So I did. I rode for 45 minutes in the sunshine and was reminded how good it feels to be on my bike OUTSIDE and NOT IN MY BASEMENT with laundry hanging around me and my kids Shopkins and Pokemon cards on the floor. <br />
<br />
I won't be stuck in this basement--in this moment--for much longer. And things <i>will</i> settle down, and I <i>will</i> get outside with my friends, and I <i>will</i> be able to swim more and it's going to be okay.<br />
<br />
I may be ten years older with a hell of a lot less time to train, but I have 7-8 years of solid training under my belt in those ten years. I am much stronger than I ever was at 28 (but, as my headbanging stunt proved, still probably not smarter) and that has <i>got</i> to count for something.<br />
<br />
I'm not trying to get to Kona, so why am I doing this, ultimately? I think to remind myself how it feels when you take away all the BS, all the stuff that doesn't matter, and just focus on what does. Family, health, friendship, training, nutrition. Repeat. That's what Ironman reminds you. That's all you really need--all you ever really needed, anyway. <br />
<br />
It won't be the same as my last journey, but some things are universal. I still have a lot to learn, and I think that's why I'm here. Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-13251289800334143002016-01-30T13:33:00.000-05:002016-01-30T13:33:14.687-05:00Weekly Roundup, sortaOkay! <br />
<br />
Where was I?<br />
<br />
Little bit of craziness the past two weeks. First, Em got strep throat. Then, I got some weird virus thing that made me super tired for a few days. And then, a lovely stomach bug hit our childcare provider and her poor little guy, so that threw us all for a loop with scheduling this week. <br />
<br />
So I'm going from memory here--<br />
<br />
The good:<br />
<br />
Proud of myself for missing my group spin but hammering it out in my basement and really holding myself accountable with two, one-hour killer workouts back to back. <br />
<br />
Swimming twice a week and it's starting to NOT feel like quicksand. Yay!<br />
<br />
Gave myself a break when I was sick and the world kept spinning. Funny how that happens.<br />
<br />
The bad:<br />
<br />
The virus put a dent in training, for sure. I especially noticed it on the run.<br />
<br />
Have to miss the group spin tomorrow (boo) with some family stuff, and the next few days will be crazy. So I'm going to have to just do what I can to get in what I can get in.<br />
<br />
I keep blowing off strength training--just too damn tired at the end of the day.<br />
<br />
REPEAT AFTER ME: It is only January. I'll be okay.<br />
<br />
BUT--<br />
<br />
It's also about 7 months away and I need to not blow things off unless I have a seriously good reason. So I have had good reasons the past two weeks. <br />
<br />
Talked to Coach Emily because by Friday I'm literally collapsing from exhaustion and so angry at life that I just want to crawl under a rock and sleep for three days. So we're going to move a rest day to Wednesday and see how it goes--figure I can catch my breath and get caught up on all the silly stuff I need to do to keep the train running at home and work, too. Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-66904422113884773102016-01-09T09:35:00.001-05:002016-01-09T09:35:38.846-05:00Ironman Wisconsin, Weekly Round-Up 1First week back to school had me like<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFLasdBrKVHcfelwKERCIJbmYiJaPiN4oqmzWCOYGLvx0HA6P7JO69A1UYSqDTbJPGzM_1sXO-6TbuiKIAPgL7Ovdo88drqcpL8XESS2bb6Gsb_573pM5DR0Ae58rCUWsMs5cpjQ/s1600/parks-and-rec-tired.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFLasdBrKVHcfelwKERCIJbmYiJaPiN4oqmzWCOYGLvx0HA6P7JO69A1UYSqDTbJPGzM_1sXO-6TbuiKIAPgL7Ovdo88drqcpL8XESS2bb6Gsb_573pM5DR0Ae58rCUWsMs5cpjQ/s320/parks-and-rec-tired.gif" /></a></div>
My own two children were <i>really</i> excited to go back to school. Let's just say that my clientele, the high school sorts, were, um, LESS THAN ENTHUSED to be back at school and deal with tests and midterms. One girl proclaimed loudly in my very first class Monday how "This is the worst day of the ENTIRE SCHOOL YEAR."<br />
<br />
So it made staying positive a slightly extra difficult challenge. Throw in there that the subject matter we were discussing this week included the last resistance of Native Americans on the Plains and also the Armenian genocide during WWI, and we all needed a little laugh by the end of the week.<br />
<br />
So we watched <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_BRp7ezUqbI">this</a>.<br />
<br />
Feel better? Me too. <br />
<br />
It feels so good to be back on a schedule with a goal in mind, and a much different goal for this year. Ironman is just what I needed, I think. <br />
<br />
Challenges this week:<br />
<br />
--trying to stay positive despite lots of non-positivity around me (I think I did pretty good especially once one of my students introduced us to the cats and cucumbers)<br />
--dealing with the TIRED TIRED OMG TIRED feeling that hits by Thursday<br />
--getting in a swim before school<br />
--fitting in the workouts while being able to grade/plan<br />
<br />
The good:<br />
<br />
--got the swim in! yay me! And it didn't feel like quicksand like it did before, so slight progress.<br />
--had a really good, hard spin on Sunday with cool people and still made it to church (almost) on time. Boo yah<br />
--had a really good run on Wednesday after school on a sunny day in the park--big ups to Matt for getting the kids for me so I could sleep in a little and do that after school<br />
--Nutrition was almost flawless except for that Bloomin' Onion at Outback last night to celebrate Papa Z's birthday (hey, I only go there like once a year)<br />
<br />
The bad:<br />
<br />
--The tired. OH THE TIRED. I don't know if I can keep up morning workouts every day, which means Matt and I are going to have to get really creative about juggling workouts and kid activities and grading. Luckily, he is more of a night-owl and can work out at night with no trouble.<br />
--By Friday I was not a happy person. I was cranky and snapped at J and E a few times, and I had my PJs on earlier and earlier (like 6pm) starting Wednesday. I know it was just a rough week at school so hopefully this won't be too bad.<br />
<br />
Realizations:<br />
<br />
--coffee is my friend<br />
--I need a new bike seat ASAP<br />
--I probably won't be able to run with friends for a while since I need Saturday mornings to regroup in my PJs while my kids watch Christmas Story for the 875,496th time and then run later<br />
--trading a run with friends for a 2 hour, HARD trainer ride with friends is the better choice for now at least<br />
<br />
Matt's out for a run now and we're all enjoying some much-needed chill time on the couch, and then I'll head out. Looking forward to a relaxing weekend and actually catching my breath!<br />
<br />Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-14849227679177715322015-12-29T19:37:00.001-05:002015-12-29T19:48:08.461-05:00Funny How That WorksJust listened to the latest <a href="http://gretchenrubin.com/podcast/">"Happier" Podcast </a>with Drew Barrymore as the special guest, and I just love her. Seriously. Talk about someone who really turned life around and made something of herself...and, from what I can tell, someone who seems very grounded and appreciates being grounded is really refreshing. She mentioned something that really resonated with where I am right now (and my last post) which was something to the tune of "You can do anything, but you can't do everything." I hear you, sister.<br />
<br />
Prioritizing is key, and so is <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2015/12/on-having-it-all-which-really-means.html">cutting the right corners</a>. So, it's been nice to really get back to my roots. My heart has <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2014/09/race-report-rev3-cedar-point-703.html"><i>always</i> been in triathlon</a>--I try to pose as a runner here and there and I do a decent job at it, but really?<br />
<br />
<i>My heart is and always will be in triathlon.</i><br />
<br />
In a pool, when I was maybe 5 or 6, I first learned I had actual talent--like, not just because my mom said I did. I learned that the only opponent that mattered was myself. This carried over to everywhere from the piano to the seat in the classroom to the spot in front of the classroom to the race courses today. <br />
<br />
I told Coach Emily I was <i>finally</i> ready--ready for something structured. I think that might have been the longest I'd gone (since being pregnant) without formal workouts. It was about two months. And it was needed, too--I needed a full two months to wrap my head around what was making me race with dread and not joy, and figure out how to fix it. And the answer is to get back to what consistently makes me happy, and that's triathlon. So I'm doing it. <br />
<br />
And it feel so good.<br />
<br />
Well, not all of it. To be clear, I told Coach Emily that the workout she wrote for me this week pretty much made me barf and made me realize just how much work I have ahead of me. Hello there, slice of humble pie! SUPERSIZE ME. <br />
<br />
And I made it out to a group spin on Sunday for the first time in a long time, and I was a disgusting sweaty mess at the end but it felt so damn good to be there. With people who <i>get it.</i> Who like this stuff too. Netflix is okay and all but sometimes it is nice to get out of my basement, and I left there feeling pleasantly wrecked and ready for coffee and church, and the rest of my week. <br />
<br />
Running is getting better, but I'm seeing it now more as a puzzle piece to my greater goal. It's quite liberating. No longer am I running through pain (yay!) and I'm thinking more how I can be ready to run off the bike, to have a solid race, and to finish strong. It's a whole different take on running, and it's one that is more <i>me</i>. <br />
<br />
In short? This feels <i>right</i>. Doing what my heart pushes me to do is making me happy. My heart is in it, and the joy is coming back.<br />
<br />
Revolutionary, huh? Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-43620225557209084102015-12-13T16:37:00.000-05:002015-12-13T16:42:45.743-05:00On "Having It All," Which Really Means "Cutting the Right Corners"A lot of people ask me how I have time to do the things that I do. I've been thinking a lot about the answer to this question, and it really comes down to this.<br />
<br />
Coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.<br />
<br />
(No, that's a joke.)<br />
<br />
(but I do drink a LOT of coffee)<br />
<br />
The truth is that I'm from the generation that was the first to really, truly, be able to "have it all." Career and athletic doors were already flung open for me, largely due to my mom's generation (thanks, ladies!). Don't get me wrong--there's still a glass ceiling for sure, and I can write a whole 'nuther post about how I still see a great amount of inequity, from little stuff to big stuff. But overall, I've been able to completely choose my destiny, which is a lot different story than women who have come before me can tell.<br />
<br />
So here's the real truth on how I "have it all:" I get a CRAPLOAD of help. And I figure out which corners can be cut. Then I cut them. It's a constant tightrope of difficult decisions and reflection to be sure I'm doing the right thing, and a <i>lot</i> of questioning myself. It's a lot of trusting my gut a-la-Olivia Pope. Sometimes I panic; sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with a sick feeling of HOW ON EARTH WILL I DO ALL THE THINGS but then Matt helps remind me that we don't have to do ALL the things, just the things that matter. So that helps a lot.<br />
<br />
<i>But the most important things are the help and cutting the right corners.</i><br />
<br />
So a few years ago I read Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg. I figured it would be a LOT of eye rolling and slow-clapping in my head ("Yeah, Sheryl, easy for you to say BIZILLIONAIRE") and in some parts, it was. <br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="giphy-embed" frameborder="0" height="340" src="//giphy.com/embed/WtBDAH97eXAmQ" width="480"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://giphy.com/gifs/postal-apocalypse-WtBDAH97eXAmQ">via GIPHY</a><br />
<br />
But it also sort of gave me a little kick in the butt that I needed to keep from being too mediocre, too. I was feeling like I was just sort of floating along in my career and, quite literally, trying to <i>stay</i> afloat under a sea of papers and lesson plans. Reading that made me think about ways I could reinvigorate my teaching, but keep it fitting in the very, <i>very</i> limited time that I had. I stepped it up in a national group I'm a part of and offered to lead our statewide efforts to connect educators. Through that, I had the opportunity to present at a national conference last March and this past November, which led to some more connections and pretty awesome experiences. I aimed pretty high and actually got a position at a summer seminar at Stanford last summer. And this August I was honored to be named <a href="http://www.rrcs.org/protected/articleView.aspx?iid=6Y2BP2I&dasi=3G0I">my district's Teacher of the Year,</a> which I'm still in a little bit of shock over since I work with some pretty inspiring and talented educators. <br />
<br />
So how do I do that? It helps that I love what I do and honestly can't imagine NOT doing it. I realize the very fact that I can say that about my job is a privilege that not everyone has, and I am grateful for it. <br />
<br />
I cut <i>every corner</i> I can in my house. I hire someone to clean it, because I hate doing that and if I'm working, I'm willing to outsource cleaning. I often spend two hours or so putting together freezer meals (10-15) so I can stack my freezer with easy stuff and I LOVE MY CROCKPOT MORE THAN ANYONE SHOULD LOVE AN INANIMATE OBJECT. I'm not a baker; I'm not a crafter. You're not going to get anything off Pinterest from me. Don't expect me to sew you something or bake something. You'll get store-bought goods, and you'll like it, okay? That's a corner I cut. <br />
<br />
I work through my lunch almost every day. I do miss hanging out with people during lunch, but it came down to bringing more work home or trying to soldier through so I could relax at night instead of grading so much from 9-11pm, and if working while eating lunch gave me (most of) my nights/weekends, back, then I'm doing it.<br />
<br />
And it also helps that I have quality, loving child care. This is something that not enough of us have access to, and OH BOY IF YOU WANT TO HEAR ME RANT JUST GO AHEAD AND ASK ME WHAT I THINK ABOUT THAT. But we'll save that for now...now, I just want to say thank you thank you thank you to the women who provide me with childcare so that I get to do what I'm called to do. I am so thankful for them and the love they give to my kids. So Mary (and Terry!), Suzy, Paula, Luann, Lindsay, and Cristi--I can't thank you enough. If I were actually funny, I would have said this (start around 1:10):<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/zpV6tsvn-WI" width="420"></iframe>
So that's the career aspect. Now, how do I fit in athletics? Marathons? Ironmans?<br />
<br />
Cutting the right corners, people. CUT THEM ALL (if you can). <br />
<br />
First thing first: my quest to qualify for the Boston Marathon which has been on my radar for the better part of the past 5 years has shown me that there are some corners that I am just not willing to cut. I've learned that I don't have the talent to do it right now <u>in the time that I am willing to give</u>, and accepting that has led me away from anger and frustration and toward a more peaceful acceptance that now is not my time and that's okay. I'm not saying never, but <i><u>I'm saying not now</u></i>, and that's a powerful and difficult decision to make, and one that I'm proud of. <br />
<br />
So wait, crazy chick--you'll do an Ironman, but you won't try to qualify for Boston?<br />
<br />
YES. Hear me out. <br />
<br />
I have quite literally and figuratively beat myself up pretty badly trying to get to Boston, and I've had an X-ray recently to prove it. Plus the sticking out my tongue at my running shoes since October (and the fact that I just wasn't that into it in this past training cycle, too!) reminded me that I am built for endurance and built for triathlon, too. That's where my heart is. <br />
<br />
I always, always knew I'd be back to Ironman someday. <i>But the corners.</i> I was not about to cut them while my kids are so young. (Please understand some people do Ironmans with young kids and hats off to them! You might be one of them. I am not judging these people at all. They are most likely WAY more talented than I am and can pull it off, and that's fabulous. Keep on rockin' with your bad selves, people.) Now that my kids are older, they are a lot less dependent upon me. We're in a sweet spot where they still want to be around me, but don't need to rely on me every single second and, in fact, enjoy being with their friends sometime over me, and I'm (mostly) okay with this. It means that if I'm swimming in the morning and miss them at breakfast, they know that I'll see them at our family dinner. It means that I can swim laps at the pool WHILE they play, and they come by to ask me to do butterfly to show their friends (my fun party trick!) or wave at me while they're in line for the diving boards. <br />
<br />
It means that now I'm ready to put in those long hours again. I'm comfortable with that, because I know they will be, too. I'm timed it up to be mostly in the summer--when I have a lot of help and support and time and when they have a lot of fun opportunities, too, that I can work my long stuff around so I don't miss the important stuff. <br />
<br />
And let's be honest, I'm extremely lucky to be in a two-teacher household with available, active, loving, and supportive grandparents down the road who go above and beyond helping me, especially when I get overwhelmed by ALL THE THINGS. My parents and Matt's Dad are also extremely supportive of my athletic endeavors and also of the kids, and are willing and able to help out often. Matt and I do a lot of professional development and work over the summer, but we can make it work for our schedules. So this is the real reason that I chose Ironman Wisconsin--I honestly was only willing to pick an Ironman that coincided with the summer and school schedules. If it means a harder course, well then, I'm just gonna have to suck it up now, aren't I? I was really hoping for Mont Tremblant but next year it was the DAY BEFORE school starts, and that ain't gonna work. So Wisconsin it is, and to tell you the truth, I'm looking forward to the challenge of those hills again. It will be a good measure of how far I've come in the past ten years. I'm nervous about it, but in a good way.<br />
<br />
And one more thing: I have been lucky enough to find <a href="http://www.emilyacocks.blogspot.com/">a coach</a> that I also consider a great friend--who knows the right words to say at every moment, and who knows how to push me just hard enough while still respecting the corners I refuse to cut. She's made me a better athlete and a better person, and I can't thank her enough for that. <br />
<br />
So "Having It All" means cutting every single corner you can, and find the help in as many places as you can. <br />
<br />
And the coffee, of course. Don't forget the coffee.Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-34472624217518652842015-11-19T21:35:00.001-05:002015-11-19T21:35:11.612-05:00So Ten Years Ago I Created This SpaceIt's been <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2005/11/well-here-i-am.html">almost ten years to the day</a> since I first hit "publish" on this site. <br />
<br />
What started as a way to document my training for Ironman became a record of my journey to that start line. My steps in the finisher's chute. And, little did I know, a way for me to meet some of the most tremendous people I've been lucky enough to meet in my life.<br />
<br />
My posts then were frequent; I often composed them in my head on my long rides. I couldn't wait to get home and write, so I could remember every step of the way. The highs and the lows, the breakthroughs and the times when I wondered how on earth I would ever, EVER, finish an Ironman. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2006/09/runnin-down-dream-part-i.html">And I did.</a><br />
<br />
I knew in my heart I'd be back someday, but I also knew I had things I wanted to do first. <br />
<br />
I traveled: Hawaii, New Orleans, France, England, Mexico, North Carolina, Michigan, California, Texas, the east side of Cleveland. Near and far, new and familiar and back again.<br />
<br />
I had <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2007/10/hardest-thing-ive-ever-physically-done.html">the one that changed me forever</a>. And the <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2010/02/emery-grace.html">one that completed our family</a>. And nothing was or ever will be the same. I was permanently rewired, and my heart and eyes see everything differently after those two moments. <br />
<br />
I got older and I got faster--every single race after J+E was faster than before. I had some huge breakthroughs and some crushing, heartbreaking defeats. I made it to <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2013/08/race-report-usat-age-group-olympic.html">Age Group Nationals</a>. I <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2013/10/race-report-columbus-marathon-2013.html">missed qualifying for the Boston marathon by one minute.</a> I went from back-of-the-pack to usually-toward-the-front in local (and even a few regional!) races, but also learned that both of those spots are pretty fun places to be. <br />
<br />
Life got even busier than before, and this site got dusty. Gone were the days where I could linger after coffee for an hour with a good friend or two; enter the days of mad dashes for work after a solo workout in the glory of the toy-filled basement or to pick up the kids while sweaty and nasty and then going to get groceries before grading papers; the days of long runs starting at 6:00am on a Saturday so I could finish the run at the soccer fields by 9. Luckily, I found some people who were in this world, too, and I learned that there's a time and a season for everything, and this is the season I'm in, and it's just fine. Someday it will be coffee-shop season again, and that's okay, because there's joy to be had where I am right now. <br />
<br />
The days of long posts almost every day are gone, too. The 140-character world suits my life, but I'm still the girl who wanted to be a writer at heart. I can't see ever walking away from this space, no matter how dusty it might get.<br />
<br />
I signed up for <a href="http://www.ironmanwisconsin.com/">Ironman Wisconsin 2016</a>. A ten-year reunion of sorts. I'm a lot different than I was when I first hit "publish" here. I know this time will be quite different than the last. In a way, I feel like I just found out I was going to have another baby. There's a few things that I just know the second time around:<br />
<br />
1. I can do this, and I'm a lot stronger than I think.<br />
<br />
2. It's going to hurt. It's going to hurt A LOT. I'm going to probably scream at times, and maybe swear loudly. I may punch something or someone nearby. I'll definitely say I'm NEVER DOING THIS AGAIN.<br />
<br />
3. There's a great amount of things that I now understand are out of my control, so I have to just roll with it. It's going to work out somehow, and I'll just need to trust it.<br />
<br />
4. I don't have time to train nearly as much as I did the first time. This second Ironman thing is going to get, to some extent, the minimalist plan. Because I have to. But I'm strong enough and have good guidance to know how hard to push and when I can back away a bit, to build a lego castle or go to a swim meet or play Uno in the grass. The first time I felt like I had NO TIME FOR ANYTHING I'M TRAINING SEE YOU IN EIGHT MONTHS! and this time, I know better.<br />
<br />
5. This time, also, I know what that finish line feels like. I'm not just imagining it; I <i>know</i>. And that will get me through the inevitable rough patches (and occasional swearing/punching sessions). <br />
<br />
I can't promise daily posts. I can't promise well-thought out posts, either. My posts most likely won't have links or tons of pictures; I'm not expecting many people out there to really follow along. And that's okay. Because when all is said and done, this is a record for <i>me</i>. This is a story for my two children. This is the tale of the girl who was always picked last but had a lot of grit and heart and how she finished an Ironman, succeeded some more, failed and fell down a few times, and dusted herself off and clicked "Register" again to see what she was really made of.<br />
<br />
Because, like I always like to say, big scary goals make life fun.<br />
<br />
So here goes the next journey. The next adventure begins, now.<br />
<br />Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-87927871430030008422015-07-28T09:11:00.002-05:002015-07-28T09:11:43.743-05:00Race Report: Huntington Triathlon, 2015This was a race I do every year and a race unlike any other. It's the shortest race I do and was the hardest for me to get in the water. <br />
<br />
On Friday, my friend Shannon posted a frantic post on facebook that her son, Sidney, was missing. Sid is an amazing 4 year old who also happens to have autism. I had just seen them all heading to the pool on Thursday and said, "Hey Sid! What's up buddy? Have fun at the pool!" His mommy, Shannon, is a tremendous mother who always has a smile on her face.<br />
<br />
After the softball splash party, I saw he still hadn't been found. I took the kids home at 10pm, called up Noelle, and headed out about 12 miles west along Lake Erie to get to his grandparents house, where he was last seen. Shannon believed he was trying to walk home along the coast to Bay Village. <br />
<br />
In your heart, you know where this is going. I did too, but I didn't want to believe it.<br />
<br />
I headed home around midnight and couldn't sleep at all.<br />
<br />
I got up on Saturday and headed back out with my neighbor Suzy. We searched door to door, climbed the rocky coast of Lake Erie, and called out for Sid. We begged him to come out. I wanted to believe he was just hiding.<br />
<br />
The worst happened. When I heard, I collapsed to the ground. I spent the rest of Saturday crying.<br />
<br />
I woke up Sunday and the thought of getting into Lake Erie made me sick to my stomach. But I thought maybe it was what I needed; to get back to the thing that has always made me feel better and reminded me that forward motion is sometimes the only thing you can do.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgokdVc9OFJwXW-pnXjpR0ZVf5hk7np9LpUntmRVRDgARJk0POJ8efWzptDI6ZDgWt5abhszNGafEN7__ho9oCWbdN2OQ-uH2EJHReyOsAcb-wNO6R3iOpm-tRQO9CP7FkvQQWYGA/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgokdVc9OFJwXW-pnXjpR0ZVf5hk7np9LpUntmRVRDgARJk0POJ8efWzptDI6ZDgWt5abhszNGafEN7__ho9oCWbdN2OQ-uH2EJHReyOsAcb-wNO6R3iOpm-tRQO9CP7FkvQQWYGA/s320/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="296" /></a></div>
<br />
My swim was awful. Just horrible. I was all over the place, I kept losing my head in the murky water. I was very, very happy to get out of that water, and my time reflects some of that.<br />
<br />
I saw my children and Matt at the top of the hill--they just arrived, and gave me big high fives and shouts. I tried to keep my emotions in check and accept the blessing of them in front of me.<br />
<br />
I hit the bike hard and had a great ride--from what I can tell, I had the 3rd fastest female bike split! It's so funny that my weakness has become my strength and what started as my strength is my weakness.<br />
<br />
The run was AWFUL. The slowest run I've done in years at that race. It was humid, yes, but that run was literally 30 seconds slower per mile than the 10K I ran in Vermilion last year at the end of the Olympic race. I tried to just focus on counting my steps and moving forward and keeping my emotions in check.<br />
<br />
I finished holding Emery's hand. It still makes me tear up to think of it. <br />
<br />
I won my age group, despite my not so hot performance in the swim and run. Somehow I ended up 1/8 in the AG and from what I can tell 6th overall female and about a minute off the podium from 3rd overall (what I was able to do last year). <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwjKU5EKpLmfeqUYCIMFztAn5zD5JNqHxBh9cuFkSjQ9iz3LkA1IYHhi7KJhSL15hqvqTB96Y9VZQe9jvrUCbaY9wDgfIxloMAWMiM92b31ZCnEk1VGGASsHs8LnTaCWpo0wDzQ/s1600/IMG_5403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwjKU5EKpLmfeqUYCIMFztAn5zD5JNqHxBh9cuFkSjQ9iz3LkA1IYHhi7KJhSL15hqvqTB96Y9VZQe9jvrUCbaY9wDgfIxloMAWMiM92b31ZCnEk1VGGASsHs8LnTaCWpo0wDzQ/s320/IMG_5403.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Sometimes you just have to put one foot in front of the other. I am glad I made it to this race and it felt good to move after so much fruitless movement in the search and rescue effort. I am blessed to be able to hug my two little ones after the race, to see their toothpaste globs in the sink, to step on their Legos, to hear them argue over Skylanders. <br />
<br />
This race was raw and the events of the next few days will be very difficult. <br />
<br />
Forward motion. Sometimes it's just what you do.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig5ypRVX323lMHzlHiF4oI8A_bgSidbHdQvPGgmqv7ppj6tdSQy4wkDwsO6oqYLmhT3_xluWUGaB-6gYpUY_-aGlFO0ppIrhQCoC29_XGcYfBjYrBI2xstIpvS_E3J2FmLsZqUmw/s1600/FullSizeRender+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig5ypRVX323lMHzlHiF4oI8A_bgSidbHdQvPGgmqv7ppj6tdSQy4wkDwsO6oqYLmhT3_xluWUGaB-6gYpUY_-aGlFO0ppIrhQCoC29_XGcYfBjYrBI2xstIpvS_E3J2FmLsZqUmw/s320/FullSizeRender+2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-55458423879921310352015-05-17T20:41:00.001-05:002015-05-18T12:07:22.065-05:00Race Report, Cleveland Half Marathon 2015....or, Definitely Not My Favorite.<br />
....or, It's Been A While Since A Good Old Fashioned Death March.<br />
....or, Why Spring Races are Just Not A Good Idea For Me.<br />
<br />
Okay, so I'm still a little bitter. But the sting is wearing off a bit and I'm trying to keep the chin up and stay positive. Long story short? My phone said 100% humidity. All day. Is that even possible? Is it a swimming pool? Because it felt like it sort of was. And humidity and I just don't get along well. Humidity likes to smack me upside the head like 658,943 times per hour. <br />
<br />
So needless to say, my super stretch goal of sub-1:40 was quite laughable. I ended up with a chip time of 1:49:53, which was a full 10 minutes of this goal. However, it was only 2 1/2 minutes or so off my previous PR, which is old and not really what I can do now, but still. Little victories.<br />
<br />
The best part about today was kind of like what happened <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2014/05/race-report-cleveland-marathon-2014.html">at Cleveland last year.</a> I'm to the point in my racing where my absolute, wheels-fall-off, want to quit races are still not too far off from what used to be my best. So I'm not allowed to be too upset here. <br />
<br />
Oh, and pretty much everyone I know had crappy days. Like, most of my marathoner friends were at LEAST 30 minutes off their goal times. THIRTY. MINUTES. <br />
<br />
Those poor, poor souls shuffling up the Shoreway...I felt really bad for them while I was drinking my Great Lakes in the Beer Garden after the race. No really, I swear. I did!<br />
<br />
I knew this would be tough, but I guess I didn't realize how tough. My teammate Mike <a href="http://www.over40runner.com/info/RunningInTheHeat.html">posted this article about running in humidity</a> and I would say, yeah, that sounds about right. The pace I could barely--BARELY--hold today was equal to or slower than the pace that I did a good amount of my long runs. So it was pretty dejecting, but again, everyone had to deal with it, so times were slow across the board. <br />
<br />
I started off between the 3:15 and 3:25 pace groups and lined up right by my teammate Jen and the super awesome Meredith who came into town after having a frustrating race in Athens--I was like, oh, hey! That was completely <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2014/04/today-i-can-cry.html">me last year</a>! And what are the odds I'd like up in between both of them in a race of 20,000?! That was cool. <br />
<br />
The first 2-3 miles I was right on pace, but it felt WAAAAYYYYY too hard. I knew I was done for, like, before I hit mile 3. I thought, well, maybe I can just PR today, since that should be something I can do in my sleep at this point as my training was spot-on all winter and spring.<br />
<br />
No. Sigh.<br />
<br />
Around mile 3 I started to get angry. Really, really angry. I was swearing under my breath, and not under my breath. Seriously. I DON'T LIVE IN THE SOUTHEAST FOR A REASON PEOPLE. Why was this happening? I was PISSED. Then I saw <a href="http://www.saltyrunning.com/">Laura from Salty Running</a>. She's a total badass, and she had a disappointing mile 2 of the 10k (still, her mile 2 was a pace I rarely EVER see, but it meant that she should probably drop out seeing she's an elite). She asked if I wanted some company, and of course I said yes.<br />
<br />
She stayed with me the entire race. We held hands at the finish, and then I hugged her and cried. Because, <i>friends</i>. And because, FRUSTRATION. But mostly friends. That was awesome, and there was NO FREAKING WAY I would have finished without her there pushing me. Or at least I would have spent the last 5k walking if it weren't for her chipper encouragement/harassment to get over the hills and catch "that girl in the teal shirt." I love her. Thanks, Salty. You are the true embodiment of everything that's right with this sport, and I can't thank you enough. <br />
<br />
I kept seeing my new <a href="http://sssmst.com/">Spin-Second Sole Multisport Teammates</a> on the course and it was so great to see them. They have been awesome about welcoming me to the team, and I certainly didn't want to let them down with my first race in the new kit! So I kept pushing every time I saw them, which was quite often. I saw them on bikes, pushing strollers, cheering loudly, AND running. They are good people. I am really looking forward to being a part of them!<br />
<br />
My favorite part of the race was at mile 9, when my friend Noelle literally ran onto the course yelling--nay, DEMANDING--that I "open up my shirt" so she could stuff ice cubes down my sportsbra. Seriously--I love it. She had asked the night before if I'd need anything and I looked at the weather report and said, "how about some ice?" She decided that just giving me the ice wasn't enough--she wanted to help deliver it. Best support crew ever, and I'm pretty sure most people in the crowd were laughing <strike>with</strike> at us. <br />
<br />
Also, I ran into my friend Marie who was KILLING IT at Mile 10 and smiling like it was no big deal. It was great to see her and finally see one person who actually looked like they were having a great race! She finished really strong and I definitely need to talk her into Columbus. Hear that, Marie? I'm coming for you...<br />
<br />
Afterwards I paused for a few pictures, but I hid my race bib because I could just tell this was a race I wasn't going to really want to pay ridiculous amounts to document anyway. So these two pictures are the best ones I have:<br />
<br />
Me, and the super awesome <a href="http://www.saltyrunning.com/">Salty</a>--<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJV5ZOMT2UMHXvtD00t7KLcgbpJKXKPwbNFNpYWS2fICrhiLfHfQGNu8DPWPDZZVe44hPXt7k5cYO4DeqaSw51ijEKOymfdPVFL1Y9QXq0d9ObeSygX3XpnzY-ijCwTlpy2Jc6g/s1600/11139439_10153333899716972_1790948530848708180_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJV5ZOMT2UMHXvtD00t7KLcgbpJKXKPwbNFNpYWS2fICrhiLfHfQGNu8DPWPDZZVe44hPXt7k5cYO4DeqaSw51ijEKOymfdPVFL1Y9QXq0d9ObeSygX3XpnzY-ijCwTlpy2Jc6g/s320/11139439_10153333899716972_1790948530848708180_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
And me, and the also amazing Krystal, enjoying our very much deserved Great Lakes Brews:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIOZlZgAHkEOWmA0yu5jdlsTaf6zmsnMBpL3TFPwi5GUOFS07BNKDEE8bBDX4_v6hgnYRc6ysEx_8A40TOCvmuPN440RJRhI8jSjAM2_m2T0s20EwwTUEU3g5KTVKVv3NfSWGniQ/s1600/17693_10205250541840669_2405094909255894216_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIOZlZgAHkEOWmA0yu5jdlsTaf6zmsnMBpL3TFPwi5GUOFS07BNKDEE8bBDX4_v6hgnYRc6ysEx_8A40TOCvmuPN440RJRhI8jSjAM2_m2T0s20EwwTUEU3g5KTVKVv3NfSWGniQ/s320/17693_10205250541840669_2405094909255894216_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
No other pictures are needed from this race. Those are the only ones I need.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
When all was said and done, my 1:49.53 was good enough for 21/418 in the F35-39 AG. So as rotten as I felt and as disappointed as I was, I can't be too upset with that. It was rough for everyone, and that showed it.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I know I have a faster half in me, but today was not the day. I think what the past two years of training have done is change my mindset from "That Was A Wasted Training Session" to "WHATEVER. I Am Fitter Now So Screw You Humidity." I have a great base going into tri season (and yay! Tri season!) and I'll continue to focus on getting stronger to have a great race in <a href="http://www.columbusmarathon.com/">Columbus this fall. </a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Any finish line is a good finish line, my friends. Today was still a great day, just not for the reasons I expected it to be.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
On to the next goal!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-56805000019386545352015-05-14T13:39:00.003-05:002015-05-14T13:50:20.334-05:00Let me tell you a story<a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2005/11/well-here-i-am.html">Ten years ago this November</a>, I started writing here to chronicle my <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2006/09/runnin-down-dream-part-i.html">Ironman journey.</a> This was before everything was done in 140 characters or even in status updates. And that's where I've been, really--no time for much anything else except snippets, retweets, and likes. Life lately has felt a lot like train, work, kids, sleep, train, work, kids, sleep. <br />
<br />
When I was in 5th grade, all I wanted to do was be an author. I think for that reason this space will never really go blank; at least not permanently. The rest of the world might move on to snapchats and instagramming, but for me I think I'll always have a space in my heart to need to write more than that. Even if no one is reading--well, <i>especially</i> if no one is reading.<br />
<br />
I'm about to run a hard, fast <a href="http://www.clevelandmarathon.com/">half marathon on Sunday</a>. It will be hot--way warmer than I'd like--but I can't really control that so I'm working on letting that go. There's not much left to do except control the controllables--sleep, diet, staying positive. So that's what I'm going to do.<br />
<br />
Most of my training has been at 5am on a treadmill during this brutal winter. Here in CLE, the average--AVERAGE!--temperature for the entire month of February was 15.1F. So when I needed to run (like, when it was dark and icy), I had to do it on the treadmill. Luckily, I have some great friends crazy enough to run with me in the cold on the weekends at least, and as always, training with them was such a gift when I had those moments to spare. <br />
<br />
Boston came and went, and I was ridiculously happy for my friends and training partners who made it and got to toe that rather cold, rainy, windy line in Hopkintown. But I'd be lying if I didn't say it was bittersweet. I hadn't thought about it in a long time, but it was a little bit of pang-filled reminder that I wasn't there. <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2013/10/race-report-columbus-marathon-2013.html">I tried, and I wasn't good enough</a>. It's okay, because sometimes that happens. I actually am of the school of thought that it's a <i>good</i> thing that those things happen, that you try your very best and still fall on your face, because it reminds you you're <i>not</i> invincible, and that hard work makes you better but sometimes takes a longer time than you'd like. It was, and continues to be, a lesson in patience for me--something I definitely need more of. <br />
<br />
I spent the better part of the past calendar year stepping away from that goal, because I was really starting to not like what it was doing to me. So I rekindled my love for triathlon, where I know my heart really is. It was perfect; <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2014/09/race-report-rev3-cedar-point-703.html">it was just what I needed</a>. And on February 1st--the very first day registration opened--I signed up for the <a href="http://www.columbusmarathon.com/">Columbus Marathon</a>. I felt a tiny bit of the fire coming back.<br />
<br />
It felt good.<br />
<br />
So I set the goal of going as fast as I can in a spring half, because I've decided that the next Spring Marathon I'll do will just have to be Boston. No other spring marathon is worth that winter training for me--it's just not. Done that enough times to know that fall marathons seem to be more my style. A spring half, however, is a nice tune-up and long enough to make me work hard but not too long that it sucks the life and soul outta me. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2009/05/race-report-cleveland-half-marathon.html">The last time I did a standalone half marathon</a> (without a 1.2 mile swim and 56 mile bike ride in front of it!) was in 2009. Right before I got pregnant with Emery. It was 1:47.06, and it was a great day.<br />
<br />
I've progressed quite a bit since then, but I've been so focused on the marathon quest that I never really got a chance to see just how <i>fast</i> I can run a 13.1. So that's what I plan to do. <br />
<br />
I've been training for a race pace of about a 7:40/mile. Just typing that sounds pretty freaking insane, seeing as for 9 years I could not run a 5K under a 7:42 mile. But the body is a pretty crazy thing, and one thing I've learned is that I never gave myself enough credit or believed what my coaches always said to me--there's a lot more fast in here than I give myself credit for. I've hit all the paces I need on almost every single run, and I stayed injury-free. <br />
<br />
I am pretty confident that I will PR; it's just a matter of by how much. Which is a great place to be, really. It's kind of liberating. Just how much is in me, anyway? I plan on finding out. <br />
<br />
Any PR is a good PR, so I may need reminding of that in case something doesn't pan out the way I plan it to. But I feel good. I feel confident, I feel fast. I feel like if you told me 5 years ago I'd be gunning for as close to 1:40 as I can get, I'd laugh in your face. I still have a playlist on my old iPod called "1:54 or Bust" since for years I couldn't even go faster than that. <br />
<br />
So I'll tell you a story of a runner who just won't quit. The story seems to just keep getting better, so I'll write the next chapter on Sunday and let you know how it goes.Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-52901050060777314442015-02-03T18:55:00.001-05:002015-02-03T18:55:29.192-05:00Review: Crest HDI'm back! It's been a while and I owe you a few race reports, but for now, I have a pretty sweet product to review for you.<br />
<br />
Through the Women's Health Action Heroes program, I had the opportunity to try out Crest's Pro-Health HD toothpaste. I might have just a *teensy* bit of a coffee <strike>problem addiction</strike> habit, and I am always a little concerned that said habit will turn my pearly whites, well, not-so-pearly. So, I was super excited to hear about the toothpaste opportunity. I like that the product boasts that you don't have to choose between your "healthiest smile and your whitest smile." The product boasts that you will have "6X Whiter Teeth in 1 Week." Well, bring it. Because I've been drinking a LOOOOT OF COFFEE, CREST. Challenge accepted. <br />
<br />
So basically, you first use Step 1 and brush for 1 minute. Then, you spit, but don't rinse! That was a little weird at first, but I got used to it. After 1 minute, then you use Step 2: the polish. After 1 more minute, you then rinse and you're done! I was a little concerned about my tooth sensitivity that tends to plague me with any whitestrips I've ever tried, but I started my program last week.<br />
<br />
Here's what I loved:<br />
<br />
1. TWO MINUTES! MINIMAL COMMITMENT! I can't tell you how many times I've started those Whitestrips packs only to be completely over it by about Day 3. I just am no good at finding 30 minute blocks of time to wear strips on my teeth, so I was super excited to just commit 2 minutes of my life morning and night. But, would it work?<br />
<br />
2. YES--it absolutely did work! Within 3-4 days I noticed my teeth not only felt smoother but looked significantly whiter. I am sold! <br />
<br />
3. My very sensitive teeth were not at ALL bothered by this product! That is HUGE. Usually my teeth have shooting pain from some of the whitestrips that I've tried in the past, so this is probably the most positive thing I can say about the product, aside from the fact that it just plain works.<br />
<br />So there you have it! Check them out and tag your success stories at #HealthyObsession and #CREST! Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-90137684500576004142014-09-09T21:09:00.000-05:002014-09-10T19:02:43.130-05:00Race Report: Rev3 Cedar Point 70.3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
People, I owe you SO MANY REPORTS that I don't even know where to start. The race reports are always the reports I refer back to the most and I know that I really need to record this stuff. It was just an unconventional summer--we took a trip to Europe, lost a dear loved family member, and then I went to study the Constitution at Stanford University at the end of July. In the meantime I completed three races: the Huntington Sprint Triathlon, the Vermilion Harbor Olympic Triathlon, and the Rev3 Cedar Point 70.3 Triathlon. How can I explain everything that happened to you? Because there's a LOT.<br />
<br />
<br />
Here's the short answer: I set a course PR--and several actual PRs, including my best 10k--in every. single. race. and after a previous 8 months of heartaches and disappointments and near-misses in my races, finally got the joy back that got me into this sport in the first place.<br />
<br />
Related: I am SO not a runner at heart. I always have known this, but it's confirmed without a doubt.<br />
<br />
The long answer: get your popcorn and buckle up kids, because this will be a long one.<br />
<br />
I didn't even register for Rev3 until, like, 3 weeks before the race. Things were just so crazy this summer...we had both the most amazing and worst summer ever. It went so fast and was such a whirlwind of emotions that Matt and I felt like we didn't even get a break, which is insane considering the break we had. Throw a few kids in the mix, preparing for our jobs which were changing significantly, and, well, spoiler alert: I didn't train as much as I'd like to. I'm a broken record on that, right? But <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2012/06/here-is-truth.html">I've already made it clear that I'm not training as much as you </a>or probably anyone. And that's just gonna have to be okay.<br />
<br />
I knew I was fit, and I knew I had made significant run progress, as evidenced by my performance in Vermilion. So I went ahead and pulled the (VERY EXPENSIVE, ouch) trigger.<br />
<br />
Now, if I'm going to plunk down that kind of change for a race, you'd better believe I have some big goals. <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2010/09/race-report-rev3-cedar-point-703.html">My previous 70.3 was when Emery was 6 months old </a>(and that, my friends, is what I call a "poor life decision") where I somehow PRd massively with a 5:44. I knew that I was much stronger than that this time around, so my "perfect day" goal was a sub-5:30. Here's what that would look like:<br />
<br />
Swim: 38 and change<br />
Bike 2:50ish<br />
Run 1:50ish<br />
Plus transitions to get to a little under 5:30.<br />
<br />
This is what I know, without a doubt, that I can do. So I decided to go hard or go home and see what happened.<br />
<br />
I headed out to Cedar Point to spend the night in a cabin with my friends Andy and Noelle and their families. This was super awesome as it allowed me to get settled in without having to get up at 4am and drive to the start like I did last time. We grabbed some dinner hit the hay early on.<br />
<br />
THE SWIM:<br />
<br />
I didn't get to start until 8:45. Ew. I hate late starts, but the Full Rev swimmers started at 7 and safety and blah blah blah I get it but that doesn't mean I don't get to hate it. I was one of the final waves, and speaking of waves, holy crap, they were picking up. The lake is rarely calm near Cedar Point, but this was starting to really look bad. I did a little warmup and got tossed around quite a bit. I breathed in and just tried to focus on my stroke and remind myself that this is my 6th 70.3, I've been here many times before, and I know how to swim in chop.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivKG_xAb5ee1SBuG0I23FqIjDnnxn0zVuSQhXAr3Me4iCDdrLeg_bzwPt-L0aov_ZGd_tu3kFTyNQ-g9dqgAsobRIHeQ8554Eazxeg-U3L7k2diECEtsQ-4Kv2eawp8vRw9hnYng/s1600/startbeach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivKG_xAb5ee1SBuG0I23FqIjDnnxn0zVuSQhXAr3Me4iCDdrLeg_bzwPt-L0aov_ZGd_tu3kFTyNQ-g9dqgAsobRIHeQ8554Eazxeg-U3L7k2diECEtsQ-4Kv2eawp8vRw9hnYng/s1600/startbeach.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's impossible not to look like an idiot in a wetsuit and cap. So I embrace it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Andy was off 10 minutes ahead of me and it was hard not to notice the waves knocking over swimmers as they were wading out to the start line. By the time my wave waded out, waves were so big that they knocked us over. I seemed to time my jumps exactly wrong and ended up with a face full of nasty lake waves like three times before I even started. We had to swim directly into the waves, and all of us were officially panicking. It was very, very rough.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsTpMR55qdbpdrUFKp0btKplPqMKl2spwu9PiNVCpLVLy_8B0uG5CHRL5q08YK1k2HV-Gg_kYEv1YxrDbB0jcbPnUZ0bRiuj40RpRUGSEYzRRUTJcSn7Zwoqm51odeiuckA_bYuw/s1600/swimstart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsTpMR55qdbpdrUFKp0btKplPqMKl2spwu9PiNVCpLVLy_8B0uG5CHRL5q08YK1k2HV-Gg_kYEv1YxrDbB0jcbPnUZ0bRiuj40RpRUGSEYzRRUTJcSn7Zwoqm51odeiuckA_bYuw/s1600/swimstart.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what I call "Less Than Ideal Conditions"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I heard the horn, jumped over one more wave, and off I went.<br />
<br />
It was, without a doubt, the worst swim of any 70.3 I've ever done. The chop was so horrible that sighting was virtually impossible. I had to do breastroke often just to ensure that I was not going the wrong direction--as in completely turning around wrong direction. People were PANICKING. A jet-ski flew by me after a swimmer who was freaking out. I caught some of the men in the wave--or two--ahead of me before I even got out to the first buoy. My arm went up to take a stroke and, on several occasions, was smashed down by a cresting wave.<br />
<br />
The only thing I kept thinking was, "Breathe, stroke, glide, pull. You've been a swimmer all your life, and you're fine." And I didn't freak out. But people all around me were, and it made me scared to see them so panicked. That's when bad things happen.<br />
<br />
After the last turn, I saw a guy with his eyes closed floating on his back. I stopped, screamed "HEY!" at him and when he didn't move I got really really worried and yelled, "ARE YOU OKAY?" He finally heard me and said, yeah, she's going to get me, and waved in the general direction of the kayakers.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Z6m4kdpvaL3hkAD5YYeH66gOjd3ZvfjJAAGxJODmaoQjVPqWfbQEwnmFmxkQS0-i02t4vgvK0fN9lkmVmRxvqrAY0IwYYDokUokduqxoV5xcricyQyKTIvZKR1IlU4eAj-b89Q/s1600/swimout1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Z6m4kdpvaL3hkAD5YYeH66gOjd3ZvfjJAAGxJODmaoQjVPqWfbQEwnmFmxkQS0-i02t4vgvK0fN9lkmVmRxvqrAY0IwYYDokUokduqxoV5xcricyQyKTIvZKR1IlU4eAj-b89Q/s1600/swimout1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I know, those waves look innocent...trust me, people. Miserable chop.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I finally made it out. I am smiling because IT WAS OVER THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU and I was just so glad to be out of there.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAq-5gzDgjMJpEkx8C3Jtx81-cSuRqa66uP8N44bAC7PkgVo4BVLl71maL5vDnfZbjtjLcKuG5NWdFiSyjh758KhZWie9wB_DlUpR9PS5x87LH5vhIsPa9a70GwJl_4YR-kmvq8A/s1600/swimout2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAq-5gzDgjMJpEkx8C3Jtx81-cSuRqa66uP8N44bAC7PkgVo4BVLl71maL5vDnfZbjtjLcKuG5NWdFiSyjh758KhZWie9wB_DlUpR9PS5x87LH5vhIsPa9a70GwJl_4YR-kmvq8A/s1600/swimout2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm laughing at A) my horrible, awful split and B) the fact that IT'S OVER </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Please, please people out there reading: <u><i>swimming in open water is no joke.</i></u> It is WAY different than a pool. I am just so glad disaster did not strike and everyone came out of the water alive. They pulled 60 people out of the swim on Sunday. Training for the swim, and for the worst case scenario in open water, is <u><i>absolutely vital for your safety</i></u>, not just for your race. I'll stop lecturing you now. I just can't help it: it makes me scared to see so many people who don't feel comfortable swimming get into situations like that. It ain't right.<br />
<br />
My time? 42 minutes and change. Embarrassing.<br />
<br />
I said mucho swear words under my breath and literally could not believe I was already 5 freaking minutes off my goal coming OUT OF THE WATER. That did not just happen. Except, yes it did, and I'd better get moving so I can pick up the pieces.<br />
<br />
The official time: 42:13<br />
Age Group Position 3/23<br />
<br />
You have got to be kidding me: I swam a 42 minute leg and I was 3rd in my AG?! Either everyone else is HORRIBLE or the weather messed with everyone else even more than it messed with me. Because I am just not that good. So, I'm happy I remained calm and kept my wits about me.<br />
<br />
TI: 2:33<br />
<br />
The Bike:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7iwFXO5wtHfveXUo0MFd9aZy_jElKbvGy52ixxo593y_flZ3SI-SzVhSH0OjhOhLjzbguka2_bATHW4ZWCOBWAA5ACL8vwHXLCtlZF3ZG2Oysnj9PcRweKE9eyJkaLzJ-EhT95A/s1600/bikeout.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7iwFXO5wtHfveXUo0MFd9aZy_jElKbvGy52ixxo593y_flZ3SI-SzVhSH0OjhOhLjzbguka2_bATHW4ZWCOBWAA5ACL8vwHXLCtlZF3ZG2Oysnj9PcRweKE9eyJkaLzJ-EhT95A/s1600/bikeout.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rolling out of T1!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Okay! My best part! I can regain some territory here! I took off and tried to hold a good steady pace throughout the bike. I was flying by people initially and felt great. It was a clear, sunny, beautiful morning, and really, Lake Erie is pretty breathtaking like that. I soaked in the scenery as I tried to settle into a rhythm. I focused on nutrition and taking in enough fluids while also settling my seasick stomach. About 10 miles in I really tried to settle into the pace.<br />
<br />
The course is mostly flat with some rollers and a little bit of false flat/wind to deal with. But here's the deal:<br />
<br />
I just didn't feel it.<br />
<br />
For some reason, right around mile 25 or so, I felt flat. Just no pep. Not the usual "I'm going to kick so much ass today" feeling like I usually get on the bike. Yeah, there was a little wind, but nothing that I should have been letting get to me...I don't know what the deal was. I think that swim might have taken more out of me than I wanted to admit, despite my attempts to swim smooth and remain calm. I dunno, but for whatever reason, I got back to T2, looked down, saw "2:57" on my PowerTap and literally made this face:<br />
<img alt="http://www.991freshfm.com/files/2014/06/not-impressed.png" class="decoded" src="http://www.991freshfm.com/files/2014/06/not-impressed.png" /><br />
So not impressed. That was crap. I'm much stronger than that.<br />
<br />
Oh, stupid mistake, too--I forgot to take off "auto lap" on my Garmin watch, so it took all 56 miles as "laps" and right around mile 54 decided to say it was out of memory. Awesome. Because I ONLY NEED YOU FOR THE RUN. So I fumbled with it and tried to clear the memory while I rode. Not good. Very annoyed. <br />
<br />
Bike time: 2:57.31 (literally, the same time I had in 2010)<br />
Age Group Place: 3/23<br />
<br />
Now, I knew my big goal was officially OUT the window. Poop sandwich. BUT! I can still go under 5:44. The run was where I wanted to see the biggest gains and where I should see the biggest gains, so I vowed to myself that this craptastic effort so far was not all for nothing. I could still have a good run, and I'd set myself up for it with good nutrition and a day that was warm but not too hot at all.<br />
<br />
It was time to get into beast mode. Finally.<br />
<br />
I put on my racing flats, because I thought, hey! they might make me faster! (another "poor life decision")<br />
<br />
T2: 1:22<br />
<br />
Off I went--Andy had a solid bike and had caught me around mile 40, so I tried to keep him in my sight. Man, he was moving though. My first mile was 8 flat, and I knew that was too aggressive. I tried to back off a bit but felt good at 8:15s so I figured I'd hold on as long as I could and just risk it, because at this point, I had nothing to lose. I passed my buddy Tiffany who was running the relay, and said, "I might regret this later!" and she laughed and told me to keep going.<br />
<br />
I held the pace pretty well for the first 5 miles or so. Somewhere in there I passed Andy, which confused me--turns out he hit the bathroom but then I was paranoid that I missed a turn! I asked this girl next to me, "this is the right way, right?" and she assured me that it was. As I ran away she said, "Strong pace! I want some of your energy!" so that was a nice boost. I tried to tell every single police officer and volunteer that I could thank you, because that's just a thankless and kind of boring volunteer job. <br />
<br />
Around mile 6 or 7, I started getting that nauseous/sick/dizzy feeling. Oh no, I thought. Here it comes. So I pounded a Gu and took a few eCaps just to try and get ahead of the bonk. It was warm, but not hot--but the sun on the asphalt was really cooking things up, and I'm definitely a salty sweater. It worked, and I managed to keep the pace hovering around 8:30-8:35. My Garmin had the mile markers 0.2 miles off which is pretty significant and definitely messed with me, so I just tried to at least keep the pace consistent. <br />
<br />
After Mile 9 or so things got hard, but good. Like, people around me were dropping like flies. But I wasn't! I was tired, and my legs were heavy, and I knew that I didn't have too much left, but I kept thinking, "just a half hour or so, and then you can see the finish line." I can do anything for a half hour. Right? Except that at this point of the course it's extremely boring with nothing but old businesses and not many spectators. So I tried really hard to just focus on my steps and my breathing. Every step I made was one step closer to home, and I was ready for home.<br />
<br />
The last 2 miles or so on the causeway leading up to the park. Last time I did this race, it was hella windy and I might have said a few F bombs because of it. This time, it wasn't too windy, just hot and isolated and OMG I AM READY TO BE DONE NOW THANK YOU. My legs were starting to feel heavy, I was hovering now right around 9:00/mile pace, and I knew that I was running out of steam. Due to the watch debacle I had no clue what my overall time was, so I just tried to go as hard as my body let me and figured I'd hopefully still have a shot at a PR. I knew that my run wasn't going to be 1:50, but hey, the best I've EVER ran at the end of a 70.3 is 2:02. And I was going to be well under that. Victory is mine. <br />
<br />
Making that last turn, I just had this stupid grin on my face. I was so happy with that run--sometimes, it's a gamble and it's a fine line and I'm still learning, but sometimes, if you ease up on the bike just a bit, you can gain huge minutes on the run. Maybe if I had rode harder, I would have blown up and lost 10-15 minutes on the run, because lemme tell you folks, I HAVE BEEN THERE. It is not fun. Part of what I love about the 70.3 distance is that it's so hard to execute perfectly, and it's such a learning process. I know I can go a bit harder on the bike and still have a decent run, but to see an 8 minute gain on the run? Yeah, that made my rotten swim and bike a little more palatable. <br />
<br />
Saw my friends and they snapped this video accidentally--Patty was trying to take a pic, but I like it!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxPXy-qFmiUj8OUKmIhdpcktfrHJDvrQd-yyKPlI7QnwP4Le6e5qLIifcsIiojngibp-GgePerJYJo' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
And then, saw Matt and the kids, and we got to do this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT4fPHfyVB5GYNOcKbCCkWmqCWHCZYVaCXeSFN1PlRJHe1dDQ3gXZHvYqS_eYGbK5HuRo_41-9YT2beVAsEtqrayUWX7TMgvyBXSaKszz5TtiblSdZyLZqwt5QZ7jZH6EXALs6fA/s1600/IMG_4236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT4fPHfyVB5GYNOcKbCCkWmqCWHCZYVaCXeSFN1PlRJHe1dDQ3gXZHvYqS_eYGbK5HuRo_41-9YT2beVAsEtqrayUWX7TMgvyBXSaKszz5TtiblSdZyLZqwt5QZ7jZH6EXALs6fA/s1600/IMG_4236.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQvgavi_V1wY3DV7iM0XdFuRfHNvkWNN_SC6IbhMtknlW6aSHq-EEW7Vf_87U9X3s0GNQk7lThfaNwB0aAZkbKM-MkBOAS9ImuDQnVY1141zID23_u5Qysn95vgEpjG5XgykeoWQ/s1600/IMG_4237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQvgavi_V1wY3DV7iM0XdFuRfHNvkWNN_SC6IbhMtknlW6aSHq-EEW7Vf_87U9X3s0GNQk7lThfaNwB0aAZkbKM-MkBOAS9ImuDQnVY1141zID23_u5Qysn95vgEpjG5XgykeoWQ/s1600/IMG_4237.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzpVwVASWqfQHGaDO4crmAzNoszejb2LcQS4SFFzMWgym4jOBjRhO_IAInYtyYX0SWEjnjr0Sdu12jG3K-oscJW97nDfdsFQMYX_eqrg9IlvWgxRD-Vl0DX4OXPaNUOo4HBjreQ/s1600/IMG_4239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzpVwVASWqfQHGaDO4crmAzNoszejb2LcQS4SFFzMWgym4jOBjRhO_IAInYtyYX0SWEjnjr0Sdu12jG3K-oscJW97nDfdsFQMYX_eqrg9IlvWgxRD-Vl0DX4OXPaNUOo4HBjreQ/s1600/IMG_4239.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIanYg0RmMHzSBMIQvADapZTdp20f5NL_PpTR5-i04k3fyrWg_GFa6-474J5HRqJW04gPq1IdMahL7Yfkjk7jJFaeu5QA8xCNeV97I9Yts_Y98H3nuzIsc7rr7AqqOkZ_h1LUAg/s1600/IMG_4240.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIanYg0RmMHzSBMIQvADapZTdp20f5NL_PpTR5-i04k3fyrWg_GFa6-474J5HRqJW04gPq1IdMahL7Yfkjk7jJFaeu5QA8xCNeV97I9Yts_Y98H3nuzIsc7rr7AqqOkZ_h1LUAg/s1600/IMG_4240.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivWGwWg5Tjna0ablbXK2gT9jFixF325dCoEmy9YTReRMGz9Som_mzFG6eNYLJfNNY2JfVXRbYg5Vvgp3mB48WFGteU7PvR7T5hW8BTwRSofyfX-wMtDZgqqbHqb7A4Xw7j6gzaLA/s1600/IMG_4243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivWGwWg5Tjna0ablbXK2gT9jFixF325dCoEmy9YTReRMGz9Som_mzFG6eNYLJfNNY2JfVXRbYg5Vvgp3mB48WFGteU7PvR7T5hW8BTwRSofyfX-wMtDZgqqbHqb7A4Xw7j6gzaLA/s1600/IMG_4243.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOswgRpE68Q4xsklCKuC_0E3kzfNlhkNOKcmrscQo9L-Az52U4vFywhLJBWeeksAZrFEPiF8hCqgnb8I02GPMvfiMpkx6cUuAvE33FoSs8GCDVhIrASInpCAbnEmdDdOre0B5qLA/s1600/IMG_4246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOswgRpE68Q4xsklCKuC_0E3kzfNlhkNOKcmrscQo9L-Az52U4vFywhLJBWeeksAZrFEPiF8hCqgnb8I02GPMvfiMpkx6cUuAvE33FoSs8GCDVhIrASInpCAbnEmdDdOre0B5qLA/s1600/IMG_4246.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6adMcWE0NLm9XyEdSzzCwaXCm0vhg3h1SID-Akkvq1nYu_7OUETDTA3ritBDe9q6KMHlnfbDz_mwTOu1Z3LMFrYAnzEzvPVfF0sAilYH9N3cqGEjmQNvzZoTOhmLei0CMomHmQ/s1600/IMG_4249.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6adMcWE0NLm9XyEdSzzCwaXCm0vhg3h1SID-Akkvq1nYu_7OUETDTA3ritBDe9q6KMHlnfbDz_mwTOu1Z3LMFrYAnzEzvPVfF0sAilYH9N3cqGEjmQNvzZoTOhmLei0CMomHmQ/s1600/IMG_4249.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Total Run Time: 1:54.49<br />
Age Group Place: 3/23<br />
<br />
Overall Time: 5:38.29<br />
Age Group: 4/23 (don't ask me how it's 4...but it is, I checked, and the 3 spot went to a girl 5 minutes faster, so I'm not sure how it happened but it's all good)<br />
23/153 Total Females<br />
100/447 Total Finishers <br />
<br />
70.3 PR by <b>6 minutes!</b><br />
<br />
So it wasn't the perfect day I had trained for, but really, when is it? Hitting that sweet spot is so tricky, and as my friend so eloquently put it, <a href="http://allsevenseas.blogspot.com/2014/04/in-which-trying-is-sweet-spot.html">sometimes the journey is the sweet spot</a>. Given my life situation now, the fact that I can't train nearly as much as I'd like to, and that I keep getting older (funny how that happens), I am absolutely thrilled with this race. I got faster. Again. What I thought was a limit, quite simply, never was. My first 70.3 was in 2005, and I went 6:33--and the swim was short, so that time should be longer. My second was 6:47. I have gone from solidly--VERY solidly--back of the pack, to this--a top 15% female finish. And I'll never be a pro and I'm never going to win these things, but in the competition against myself? I'm killing it.<br />
<br />
The <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2014/04/today-i-can-cry.html">first part</a> of <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2014/05/race-report-cleveland-marathon-2014.html">this season</a>--well, the <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2013/10/race-report-columbus-marathon-2013.html">better part of the last year, actually,</a> if I'm being honest--was spent frustrated and dejected. And I <i>hated</i> that. I hated that I worked so hard and made so much progress and was <i>upset</i>, because that is just ridiculous. But maybe, just maybe, all of that work paid off in the past three races I've done. I still owe you race reports, but the short version is: 3rd overall female in my summer sprint, and the fastest 10K I have ever clocked, 6th overall, and a course PR in the Vermilion Olympic. <br />
<br />
My heart is with triathlon, and I know this. I sort of always have. It is so nice to have the joy of the finish line again, and not have it laced in a feeling of defeat.<br />
<br />
I don't know what I want to do next. There's a tiny pull toward another BQ attempt, but I tell you what--I had so much fun in the past 8 weeks doing triathlons, that I am honestly not sure. We'll see.<br />
<br />
For now, I still have a pretty big grin on my face. But oh, dear, those racing flats? Let's just say my toes look like something out of the Walking Dead. Trust me--you don't want to look.<br />
<br />
Excited to have a little "off season" now, and so, so, so happy with the way these races played out. On to the next finish line, wherever it may be. <br />
<br />
Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-88096785622898131962014-07-30T20:54:00.000-05:002014-07-30T20:54:24.136-05:00Review: FitBit FlexI feel like I can talk now.<br />
<br />
Which is good, because I have a lot to say. (Shocking)<br />
<br />
First of all, I'd like to review the FitBit Flex, which I was given as a <a href="http://www.womenshealthmag.com/life/sara-ziemnik">Women's Health Action Hero </a>(yippee!) and I was very curious to try out! See, I'm a *little* bit competitive (cough cough) especially against myself. So, I was interested to see if this would change my habits, enhance my habits, or not really change much at all<br />
<br />
The FitBit Flex is available at Target <a href="http://www.target.com/p/fitbit-flex-wireless-activity-sleep-tracker-violet-fb401vt/-/A-15132419#prodSlot=medium_1_1&term=fitbit+flex">here</a>, and has the following information:<br />
<br />
<i>The FitBit Flex is a slim, stylish device that is with you all the time. During the day, it tracks steps, distance, and calories burned. At night, it tracks your sleep cycle and wakes you silently in the morning. Just check out the lights to see how you stack up against your personal goal. It’s the motivation you need to get out and be more active.</i><br />
<br />
Mine arrived and I tore up the box like it was Christmas morning. I was excited to get it set up!<br />
<br />
Good news is that for cavemen like me who are technically challenged, it was super easy to set up. A few clicks and I was all good to go. I also have it synced up to MyFitnessPal, although my old skool iPhone Model Negative Two doesn't automatically connect to the app. But I hear iPhone 5 will, which is a nice feature.<br />
<br />
The Good:<br />
<br />
It's lightweight, can be worn in the shower, and is very easy to read. I just tap twice to see how many lights are blinking. Once I hit five, it vibrates and does a little laser light show for me. High five, FitBit. You're cute. Since I am a morning workout person, my little game became "How Early Can I Hit My 5 Lights?" Personal best: 10:32am. I had ran and rode that morning. I can't wear it when swimming, so all last week at Stanford pool I was a little disappointed that I couldn't count my yardage, but so goes life. I got over it.<br />
<br />
The other thing I like is that it tracks your sleep. Now, there's a little bad on this and it's because I'm a side sleeper who puts an arm under a pillow...so I could sort of feel it on my left side and it was a teensy bit annoying. Not a deal-breaker, but still. You get these cool graphics on your dashboard that tell you some information about your sleep patterns:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQpevLo4mvWZohMvb5D3g6W1tPWXudjKrsr0-QdCElup_P2ZKF86tI_54QlUfoBkUU_6P9IgMKJNUXRVc3u5luzBppjNHdI8ghhxUYSMb0yhyef2aRRUoqfZC2gMBbnAcDXm8rw/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-07-30+at+9.30.38+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQpevLo4mvWZohMvb5D3g6W1tPWXudjKrsr0-QdCElup_P2ZKF86tI_54QlUfoBkUU_6P9IgMKJNUXRVc3u5luzBppjNHdI8ghhxUYSMb0yhyef2aRRUoqfZC2gMBbnAcDXm8rw/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-07-30+at+9.30.38+PM.png" height="200" width="320" /></a></div>
Question: what on earth am I doing from 2-4 am? A kick line? Pushups? The Macarena? It was really interesting to see how restless I was then. I could use this to try and figure out how to change my sleep habits a bit...maybe a little less screen time before bed? (Not that I violate that cardinal rule. NO, SURELY NOT ME) Or coming off jet-lag from my week-long trip to CA last week? It's a good metric to use and I've never been a very good sleeper, so I was most curious to see how this worked.<br />
<br />
You also get stuff like this on your dashboard: how many steps you've taken, miles you've moved, and your "Very Active Minutes" (which, of course, I try to best myself every day)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtdyZtrgpn6422DqX2ddIaFXpyftsl6cNQQbUDyNsyiOhjsaOZ3kPDEFjJ2Qz-FSBki5aQpaoaXi6vRpDEgXjP7riH9idgUSdlo87n_G9_CyU6oS30Mr15BogYcE92qD1sN-lxug/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-07-30+at+9.30.21+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtdyZtrgpn6422DqX2ddIaFXpyftsl6cNQQbUDyNsyiOhjsaOZ3kPDEFjJ2Qz-FSBki5aQpaoaXi6vRpDEgXjP7riH9idgUSdlo87n_G9_CyU6oS30Mr15BogYcE92qD1sN-lxug/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-07-30+at+9.30.21+PM.png" height="200" width="320" /></a></div>
On the left, you can see the "social" aspect of it which I haven't played around with much. You can link up with your friends to get a little friendly competition going. That could also be a great motivator!<br />
<br />
The Not-As-Good:<br />
<br />
I mentioned the no swimming thing. Sad face. I swim a lot.<br />
<br />
I also mentioned the slightly-annoying-sleeping-on-my-side thing.<br />
<br />
The only other thing I'd like to see would be another option for the arm band. The violet is super cute, don't get me wrong, but usually at work I like to just wear simple gold or silver. If I had a spare $195 laying around (unlikely to EVER happen), I'd definitely order <a href="http://www.toryburch.com/accessories/tory-burch-for-fitbit/">this Tory Burch FitBit bracelet</a>. I <u>LOVE</u> THIS IDEA. Can someone make a "public-schoolteacher-budget one" for me? <a href="http://www.target.com/">Target</a>, I'm looking at you!<br />
<br />
Did I move more? Honestly, yesterday was a rest day for me after a triathlon Sunday, and I know on rest days I'm supposed to legitimately rest...but I wanted to hit my goal, so I ran around and played some frisbee with my kids in the park and a little pickup soccer. It really did get me to move more. On days when I am moving a ton (which is really most days), it's nice to see the metrics and especially the sleep. Better sleep is a big goal of mine so I know that metric will be really helpful.<br />
<br />
I think this is an EXCELLENT tool for beginner athletes and seasoned athletes alike. Check it out at <a href="http://www.target.com/">Target</a> and if you have any questions, ask away! <br />
<br />
<br />Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-57319501459121638122014-07-28T21:04:00.003-05:002014-07-28T21:04:55.456-05:00The Longest RideWell, I've been gone for quite a while.<br />
<br />
I haven't really known what to say. Things have been a bit of a blur since late-April, and then they got better, and then they got worse, and then they were over. And we're still adjusting. We'll never truly adjust, as anyone who has lost a parent knows. I don't know; I haven't lost a parent. But Matt has, and Linda was a wonderful wife of 40 years as of May 11, grandmother to 6 (about to be 7), mother to three amazing children, and mother-in-law to me. After almost five years, Linda lost her battle to cancer on July 9.<br />
<br />
From what I'm gathering, losing a parent leaves a hole in your heart that is so painful and never, ever able to be replaced. You never will get over this. You never will move on; you will simply try to adjust and wake up and know the sun will rise again. Just without her. And it will just come in waves, at the strangest times, and you'll feel that choking feeling in your throat and your eyes well up, but you just have to keep going somehow.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJxGjDMQ1nKb_pJMduMFevhlPdeRAQ9VSMIFZyRtXG6tIsyEW4MTFYiJPo8iZ6dgAtKdW0QjLpjvD5ZMc-aA7dNXUIaimVZlUwpgWnRABvOTgW9CvNBHjxvo-tNv0AMbOENIaXcQ/s1600/AA_2402_019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJxGjDMQ1nKb_pJMduMFevhlPdeRAQ9VSMIFZyRtXG6tIsyEW4MTFYiJPo8iZ6dgAtKdW0QjLpjvD5ZMc-aA7dNXUIaimVZlUwpgWnRABvOTgW9CvNBHjxvo-tNv0AMbOENIaXcQ/s1600/AA_2402_019.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpmI3n5DfnU35pLODezEHcNp9gFKpYyqPj5Pt-Ha2nNdI4UBvvjYMsq6_kYMIjfSmel13zF8DUVRxaH6ymMiGBFelJqCY7Accg-KSk_jzQFqz9VTzSgQm1otfOoIPA04VojKXlg/s1600/AA_2405_011A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpmI3n5DfnU35pLODezEHcNp9gFKpYyqPj5Pt-Ha2nNdI4UBvvjYMsq6_kYMIjfSmel13zF8DUVRxaH6ymMiGBFelJqCY7Accg-KSk_jzQFqz9VTzSgQm1otfOoIPA04VojKXlg/s1600/AA_2405_011A.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsAJmWgtb8vFxygIpcAgdDsbKeDgpaCCJHKJq2au13KQVGtjkCwuGz_7snA_TvrezF5pmmD9ZG7V9gah4uMpX0p6SmUjF-3Tr2rogfGFyiMsHLbPGwhPw5w6_93b1mTfx0AJQD4Q/s1600/AA_2409_026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsAJmWgtb8vFxygIpcAgdDsbKeDgpaCCJHKJq2au13KQVGtjkCwuGz_7snA_TvrezF5pmmD9ZG7V9gah4uMpX0p6SmUjF-3Tr2rogfGFyiMsHLbPGwhPw5w6_93b1mTfx0AJQD4Q/s1600/AA_2409_026.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGUqbOcAPz9sxi0rFR1GUNtO90Lhiur2Oo0AMh52XOSVOT4-b_YBh6iQauHQ1cUbUDFi2MChZG55NlFibjMm9UqIqMqbGLF-p9G3OK4QhRgXDODdI6NzJKPcwaiCZbXZJRb4BuaQ/s1600/February+and+March+Jackson+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGUqbOcAPz9sxi0rFR1GUNtO90Lhiur2Oo0AMh52XOSVOT4-b_YBh6iQauHQ1cUbUDFi2MChZG55NlFibjMm9UqIqMqbGLF-p9G3OK4QhRgXDODdI6NzJKPcwaiCZbXZJRb4BuaQ/s1600/February+and+March+Jackson+013.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0F8gBWtN7WivrgC6AhAir5x6MPECcWDPs8hfPt68n6_fhC64rcKZsJpkTfXWk8uAyBGlh-JkXAGzD1dVqpy3PIAjvjz4K5I79MtuOyWJE8kujfjjzdnQ0ANYFaOfiKZl1C0fLCA/s1600/April+2010+048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0F8gBWtN7WivrgC6AhAir5x6MPECcWDPs8hfPt68n6_fhC64rcKZsJpkTfXWk8uAyBGlh-JkXAGzD1dVqpy3PIAjvjz4K5I79MtuOyWJE8kujfjjzdnQ0ANYFaOfiKZl1C0fLCA/s1600/April+2010+048.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuS4yatBxk7B8PejlOfFNShpq4SGWUestBa-rjHSObavQAirw9RmTWw1ko3RVrHMYhTGP6po2jaS-O3doteDnDbi-MTYwqpLtBtqXP-Ld04WyFcz_kqDfbYGUTRJ2r6ODIv_Wm5g/s1600/Beford+Reservation20091003_17.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuS4yatBxk7B8PejlOfFNShpq4SGWUestBa-rjHSObavQAirw9RmTWw1ko3RVrHMYhTGP6po2jaS-O3doteDnDbi-MTYwqpLtBtqXP-Ld04WyFcz_kqDfbYGUTRJ2r6ODIv_Wm5g/s1600/Beford+Reservation20091003_17.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgov30BpBb7uhqpS8tzaIT1_bwAG4xF0l4fIr7qWKP5_n0Lkc_sdcO1JqlSn0C09LMhKqM0BjC4g2e8MW45qh7ylZ7zuzvozLfPne5UEoOIGqPKLQTgH3_E0x1byGVLECnPlNK4qA/s1600/IMG_1220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgov30BpBb7uhqpS8tzaIT1_bwAG4xF0l4fIr7qWKP5_n0Lkc_sdcO1JqlSn0C09LMhKqM0BjC4g2e8MW45qh7ylZ7zuzvozLfPne5UEoOIGqPKLQTgH3_E0x1byGVLECnPlNK4qA/s1600/IMG_1220.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW7MzlkKI8MIdeAF3mqolscwoxJ6BpZ2dfOgaQ_nlP6Y1pgy8d_LSTxftkuFVanBtS5XJAuedqMitb_eLzsvReHxQBzctQHaGG4o7g_8c_d9bke-g6UHc2NafJN-8LwKeao46brg/s1600/IMG_1382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW7MzlkKI8MIdeAF3mqolscwoxJ6BpZ2dfOgaQ_nlP6Y1pgy8d_LSTxftkuFVanBtS5XJAuedqMitb_eLzsvReHxQBzctQHaGG4o7g_8c_d9bke-g6UHc2NafJN-8LwKeao46brg/s1600/IMG_1382.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXlQqYhwSAKtzC5fnbtKjR1zQkQNKbMrj-cpD38IwMrRdOYh7FzUVZie13yLGKnkcUUWvO76tZS_ob0AIZ0Nxq6n-0ttnPj0qKY5iHge-Dd5n-dfCWZ5aWpgIx2NhyTjWYiUfMg/s1600/IMG_1894.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXlQqYhwSAKtzC5fnbtKjR1zQkQNKbMrj-cpD38IwMrRdOYh7FzUVZie13yLGKnkcUUWvO76tZS_ob0AIZ0Nxq6n-0ttnPj0qKY5iHge-Dd5n-dfCWZ5aWpgIx2NhyTjWYiUfMg/s1600/IMG_1894.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxJH-84_hdQJAdt98ZHkjfsWkCsGbWF5imKHrSqjKMBfbH0npfkxF6RMPpfpVRPmf06jIUyjhrrH3VaqP7MNVMYGKzroYN1Qd0lQ-zZoHLJStQD4s0pBMtI-3bYe8B-Z1ADSgMuw/s1600/DSC_0073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxJH-84_hdQJAdt98ZHkjfsWkCsGbWF5imKHrSqjKMBfbH0npfkxF6RMPpfpVRPmf06jIUyjhrrH3VaqP7MNVMYGKzroYN1Qd0lQ-zZoHLJStQD4s0pBMtI-3bYe8B-Z1ADSgMuw/s1600/DSC_0073.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9TnZIUkwYoUne1vmMCGg14_2ljWTWNwmpAAurE4bU-Ukxn5Ssi1SOlUzldTpHEMkEkY4m3yJKbH_2rSikMBuYrBbL3K_xTpFJTSdrKC72rFfL3IMoH1RQiUBEkSHpZxIgig1Oaw/s1600/IMG_2034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9TnZIUkwYoUne1vmMCGg14_2ljWTWNwmpAAurE4bU-Ukxn5Ssi1SOlUzldTpHEMkEkY4m3yJKbH_2rSikMBuYrBbL3K_xTpFJTSdrKC72rFfL3IMoH1RQiUBEkSHpZxIgig1Oaw/s1600/IMG_2034.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ2_ocaFqO2qhuRf6FdFnfhWt3BbQJwEByUpToaVP8K9nupVu01on7HPXimOHVhcBXx6LqieZ03kzYCiTclm9ftv4B5nIljtKwCs3XtFuwDM2F99Re12zs3-Kc0E1BhlbQNjKu2A/s1600/P1010274.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ2_ocaFqO2qhuRf6FdFnfhWt3BbQJwEByUpToaVP8K9nupVu01on7HPXimOHVhcBXx6LqieZ03kzYCiTclm9ftv4B5nIljtKwCs3XtFuwDM2F99Re12zs3-Kc0E1BhlbQNjKu2A/s1600/P1010274.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
I was pregnant with Emery when Linda was rushed to the hospital on our anniversary: August 7, 2009. The diagnosis? Stage 4 uterine cancer. They did everything they could; they took out everything they could. But it was everywhere. There was only so much they could do. Everything I read said "12-36 months." We were devastated.<br />
<br />
She anted up.<br />
<br />
She took every single medicine they threw at her. No matter what it did to her poor body. She didn't care. She didn't complain. The only thing, and I mean the ONLY thing, she ever said in five years of chemotherapy, medicines, ports, and other assorted horribleness?<br />
<br />
"I'm a little tired."<br />
<br />
That's all she <i>ever</i> said. <br />
<br />
She wore her wig just once; for Dan's wedding a year ago yesterday in Mexico. And after that picture was snapped, she put her hat back on. <br />
<br />
We decided to bury her in her hat. She always looked so cute in her hats.<br />
<br />
She beat every single statistic and odd out there. The doctors and nurses were amazed. She fought so bravely and so hard.<br />
<br />
Not too many people can say they met their mother-in-law when they were 6, but that’s how it went for me. My earliest memory of Linda was in first grade, when she was the room mother for my now brother-in-law, Dan, who was in my class. Little tiny Kim was always on her hip. <br /><br />Linda was the kind of person who was absolutely selfless. She cared first about others, all the time. She had a dry and witty sense of humor, too. We’d just crack up all the time. She was always throwing in one-liners and zingers that were hilarious. She loved Elvis. She hated squirrels and would throw potatoes at them when they tried to bust through her kitchen window screen. She was an amazing cook. She loved her family more than anything in the entire universe. She could remember any single historical event, what she was wearing, and what song was on the radio when it happened. <br /><br />I keep remembering random things at random times, but usually when I’m running and biking and swimming. Because it’s alone time, and it’s when I think.<br /><br />I remember how she whispered in my ear at my wedding, “I’ve been waiting for this since Homecoming!” when Matt took me to Homecoming Dance in 1993.<br /><br />I remember how good her stuffing is at Thanksgiving. Oh my gosh, it’s amazing. I didn’t get the recipe from her. I should have. She never wrote any recipes down; she just did everything by scratch and memory. And then I feel the welt in my throat again.<br /><br />I remember how her body was wrecked from fighting the initial chemo battle but she simply did not care: no matter what, she was going to stay up all night to see her new granddaughter born at 4:15am on February 21, 2010. <i>Nothing</i> would stop her from being there.<br /><br />And I remember that Matt and I are going to need to work hard to keep her memory alive for our children. Jackson is 6 1/2. Emery is 4. If we don’t work at it, their memories will fade. And that crushes me. <br /><br />Most notably, I remember her courage, grace, and strength, as I dropped off meals to her weekly and as we all rallied around her. She was the matriarch of the family; she will be missed more than I can explain in words. And my heart aches for my husband as he tries to move forward into this unknown with a piece of his heart, forever gone. The lessons she showed us in her short 63 years were nothing short of amazing. <br /><br />You want endurance? You think Ironman is tough?<br /><br />I am here to tell you that it is nothing. Linda was tougher, more persistent, more inspirational, and more courageous than any athlete I’ve ever known in my life, and her battle was longer and more difficult than any race you can imagine. <br /><br />My training and racing lately has been a time for me to find peace, and think about what it is in my life. As I stood on the beach on Sunday for my first triathlon of the season, and first race since Linda left us, I prayed, “God, let me enjoy this race and any pain I feel and just remember to feel alive and well and grateful.” <br /><br />That’s really, to me, what racing and training is. A reminder that life is a gift, pain is a lesson, true courage is in grace, and strength comes from within.<br /><br />That is what Linda taught me. That is how I will try to move forward.Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-46177585679848336532014-06-01T15:54:00.001-05:002014-06-01T15:54:30.051-05:00Review: LUNA Protein Bars, Two New Flavors!Through my position as a <a href="http://www.womenshealthmag.com/life/sara-ziemnik">Women's Health Action Hero</a>, I was gifted two yummy protein bars from <a href="http://www.lunabar.com/">LUNA</a>. I LOVE Luna stuff, but I really haven't ever met a protein bar I can say I truly "liked." Most of them are tolerable, but taste a little bit like a bar full of chemicals with a nasty aftertaste that is attempting to taste like chocolate. It's usually a major letdown, and just makes me want to go eat a Reese's cup.<br />
<br />
So, I was very excited to see what Luna had to offer. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguRsfFD1VnUo_SmTIl30KG7RkMlOH_Qjpdu4jTzOk2wcKBSft4fjEo5ebVtOb0gotpP1yaYIkMkeAERJjgLjewOtE2LauwqRDcfv0jHSbDEmTtnjmji4IsGX2WEmEltEWVwL2QsQ/s1600/luna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguRsfFD1VnUo_SmTIl30KG7RkMlOH_Qjpdu4jTzOk2wcKBSft4fjEo5ebVtOb0gotpP1yaYIkMkeAERJjgLjewOtE2LauwqRDcfv0jHSbDEmTtnjmji4IsGX2WEmEltEWVwL2QsQ/s1600/luna.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And Mugsy the Wonder Pug was also very curious...and hoping I dropped them so he could pounce</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The first one I tried was <a href="http://www.lunabar.com/products/luna-protein/chocolate-coconut-almond">Chocolate Coconut Almond</a>, because, YES. Those are three of my favorite things. At just 180 calories and 12 grams of protein, I have to admit I was skeptical. Was it going to be just another letdown?<br />
<br />
NO MY FRIENDS. IT WAS NOT.<br />
<br />
This was really, <i>really</i> good. I'm honestly not just saying that. I'd be straight-up honest if there was that weird protein-bar-aftertaste because that's what I hate. But there wasn't! It was dangerously good. It kept me going through that danger zone of 3:15 When The Last School Bell Rings But There Are Another Two Hours Until Dinnertime. That is a time I have been known to stuff the nearest edible food hiding in my schoolbag or between my car seats into my face (Old random baggie of cheerios in the carseat? Sure. That's totally legit). <br />
<br />
The <a href="http://www.lunabar.com/products/luna-protein/lemon-vanilla">Lemon Vanilla</a> was also good, but I'm definitely more of a chocolate fan, so I'd have to say I'd personally prefer the chocolate. But still no nasty aftertaste! If lemon is your thing, you'd probably really like it.<br />
<br />
Overall, I was a huge fan of these bars. I thought I had sworn off protein bars as a nasty-tasting rule, but I have been proven wrong. Now I just have to hide them from my kids! Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-31352948155927242792014-05-22T20:25:00.000-05:002014-05-22T20:25:00.869-05:00What's NextWell, I can walk and sit down unassisted again, and in general you shouldn't make any decisions before you can walk or sit down.<br />
<br />
I immediately started to research marathons in the fall. Presque Isle sold out, which was annoying. Then I found a few other ones through friends--one geared towards a BQ in Illinois; one in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. They were in late-August or early-September, because if I wanted to do this and register in time, then I'd need to do it then. Which means I'd need to take a quick 4 week recovery, if possible, and then throw myself back into it.<br />
<br />
I've been focused on marathons for about year now--right after the attacks last year was when I set my sights on it. <br />
<br />
I'm tired. <br />
<br />
I don't really want to do another marathon this soon. I do but I don't. I do because I am pissed off. I don't because it's not a good decision for me or for my family. <br />
<br />
Doing a marathon because you're pissed isn't a good enough reason to do it. Then I'll be running angry all summer. That's not a good way to spend a summer.<br />
<br />
My original plan was to qualify and then get back to triathlons, which I love. I put Rev3 Cedar Point on hold last year so I could qualify in Columbus. When I missed it by a minute there, I threw myself back into training to do it in the spring. And I tried--twice.<br />
<br />
I learned a few things:<br />
<br />
1. I have work to do still.<br />
2. It needs to NOT be hot. That is really, really important for me.<br />
3. Training during the Polar Vortex Winter, even with good friends, was a bit soul-crushing. Spring marathons are a no-go.<br />
4. Training through summer is much easier on my life, both personally and professionally.<br />
<br />
So if I don't try this fall, that means next fall. And I didn't want to wait a year and a half to try again, but that's what's going to have to happen. Because see Exhibit A on "running angry." Just not a good reason, or a good idea.<br />
<br />
I think I can not only run a 3:40, but run solidly below 3:40. But I need to think about what's best for my family and for me. <br />
<br />
My plan has always been to do Rev3 Cedar Point and crush my best 70.3 time, which I did 6 months after Emery was born. Last year I put it on hold. The other thing is that my buddy Andy is also going to do it. And Jackson and his little guy are BFFs from Kindergarten--we talked about our two families going in on a condo, making it a fun family weekend, etc. I can train all summer, with friends. It's not *just* running, which has taken a toll on me and beat me up over the past year. I can enjoy early morning swims in the lake, long rides in the summer with friends, and not feel as much pressure to GET IT DONE HURRY UP QUALIFY OR LIFE ENDS which is how I've felt lately, and which is just silly.<br />
<br />
Maybe my friends will qualify again and go with me later. Or not, and I go out there alone. Either way, I'll get there. <br />
<br />
So the plan will be:<br />
<br />
Racing for Hope 5K: June 28th. I'll be EXTREMELY tired and jet-lagged after a super fun opportunity I'm going to do, but it will be a fun time.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.ncnracing.com/">July 14th: Summer Triathlon in Lorain</a>--Possible sprint tri, or I may volunteer to get me a free entry to the next one below...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.ncnracing.com/">Huntington Sprint Tri July 27th</a>: Again, I'll be EXTREMELY tired and jet-lagged, but it will be fun. I'm heading to Stanford University from the 20th-26th for a pretty cool opportunity that I got, and will be really really exhausted, but oh well! It's fun. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.hfpracing.com/">Vermilion Harbor Triathlon</a>: Olympic Distance, August 17th. Use it as a nice tune-up for Rev3<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.rev3tri.com/">Rev3 70.3 Triathlon:</a> September 7th. Also the day my brother and sister-in-law are due, so we'll be close enough to hop in the car and get to the hospital to hold my new niece or nephew :) <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.clevelandwestrunningclub.org/page2/page19/page19.html">November 23rd: Fall Classic Half Marathon.</a> I think it's about time I obliterate my current PR of 1:47 in the half, considering I just did that and then kept going at that pace for 7 more miles. Coach thinks I could break 1:40. That would be fun to try for. <br />
<br />
Then, reassess. Figure out if I have changed my mind on the spring marathon, but I don't think so. Then think Fall 2015 for another shot at a full. <br />
<br />
You know what? Typing all that makes me a LOT happier than typing: "Run a full marathon by September 14th or I am a Worthless Person."<br />
<br />
Time to dust off my goggles and CD0.1. It's been way too long since I've spent time with my old friends.Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-135130771966132502014-05-20T09:03:00.000-05:002014-05-20T09:10:30.528-05:00Race Report: Cleveland Marathon, 2014Well, this isn't how it was supposed to go. Any of it.<br />
<br />
I signed up for <a href="http://www.athensmarathon.org/">Athens</a> because Cleveland is usually too hot for me. Then Athens was 80 degrees and turned into a disaster. So I signed up for <a href="http://www.clevelandmarathon.com/">Cleveland</a> hoping I could somehow connect the dots to get there. The double irony is that the weather in Cleveland was absolutely perfect.<br />
<br />
So of course, I'm thinking that if I had just signed up for Cleveland, I would have hit my Boston Qualifying time. Easily.<br />
<br />
I was stronger this spring than I ever have been. I hit every single training run and then some.<br />
<br />
Everything went wrong, and I'm still pretty crushed. There will be no Boston in 2015; that is now apparent. Believe me, I've researched. Even <a href="http://www.eriemarathon.com/">Presque Isle sold out</a> on freaking May 13th, and when I put my name on the waiting list on May 18th I was already #268.<br />
<br />
I was so upset that I even texted <a href="http://www.emilyacocks.blogspot.com/">Coach</a> and said, "Is this even a realistic goal?" Maybe I'm not meant to do this. I'm honestly not that talented. She replied that I would NEVER say that taking off a few minutes is an unrealistic goal to my own children. That Meredith Kessler DNF'd 3 Ironmans for various reasons and now look at her.<br />
<br />
I know, it makes sense. I know I'd <i>never</i> say that to my own kids. Or any of my friends.<br />
<br />
It just hurts a lot. For a person like me who this does not come naturally for, I only have 2--maybe 3--shots a year. And I poured so much of my heart and soul and time into this, and came so close, and then this spring everything just went to crap. The winter sucked the life out of me, but I still did it. I got stronger.<br />
<br />
And then I was crushed. First at Athens, and now in Cleveland.<br />
<br />
The night before the race I found an old picture of me at the finish line of my first Cleveland Marathon in 2003. 35 pounds heavier, standing there with Matt, beaming after my time of 5:14. I was almost last, and I didn't care. I would have rolled my eyes in disgust at Me 2014 who was crying after finishing in 3:54.<br />
<br />
3:54. For <i>years</i>, I didn't think I could break 4 hours. This race ended in disaster, and <u>I still finished in 3:54.</u><br />
<br />
Have I become so out of touch with things that I'm one of "those runners" who is upset with a 3:54? And more importantly, how can I stop?<br />
<br />
I think it's time to back away for a bit. Boston 2015 is probably not happening. It's not, and I hate to say it and type it but it's the truth. I'm looking at my running shoes with the same animosity that I looked at my Trek after Ironman Wisconsin. GET IT AWAY FROM ME.<br />
<br />
When this stops being fun, it's time to back away.<br />
<br />
My plan was to hang onto the 3:35 pace group for dear life. I figured if I could still squeak in around 3:37-38, I'd be okay. I lined up with my friend and training partner Amanda (who is super young so she needed a 3:35) and we started. The first two miles were either really slow or the mile markers were off. Then the next few miles we were sub-8, according to my Garmin. It's so hard to tell at these things. The pacers said the mile markers were off, so I trusted them, but my splits were all over the place. The half split was good, though, so it worked out somehow. We made our way out of town and hit the half in 1:47.02, which is now a new official PR for me of 8 seconds.<br />
<br />
Hey, at least one thing went right.<br />
<br />
We entered Rocky River--where I teach--and I still get emotional thinking about all the support I had there. It was pretty unreal. My parents, Matt and the kids, and a whole bunch of people had lined the streets and were cheering at my friend Tracy's house, which we ran directly by. I was still feeling pretty good so I gave them a big wave and smile.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcHts9iwfQafx7BbTHU2NJSDeHecdt_xvZgzVlRBofXCo3bcrt56DL2S3Dm0awtjH80HyYKklznyqrR2i1NJ758mLBfVxmV9lRt6bSIu8P-7DtzcBVllD6AStVd1xS7PmvrZSu_A/s1600/DSC_0055.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcHts9iwfQafx7BbTHU2NJSDeHecdt_xvZgzVlRBofXCo3bcrt56DL2S3Dm0awtjH80HyYKklznyqrR2i1NJ758mLBfVxmV9lRt6bSIu8P-7DtzcBVllD6AStVd1xS7PmvrZSu_A/s1600/DSC_0055.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tracy and her adorable family had a "watch party" on her front lawn!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwhBSWSxR0qMY4uDgf7ZFWJWaDEcXwXchnhF4kyw1lWUIHKaK8ItRVYVkfZ1CH8ZL3wN21K9xd7sQDQ9beoaVORG6DAF2_CY4rOtca4mCWm2FfdpQg-29DZTmGQwq_nBtEo7AD5w/s1600/wave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwhBSWSxR0qMY4uDgf7ZFWJWaDEcXwXchnhF4kyw1lWUIHKaK8ItRVYVkfZ1CH8ZL3wN21K9xd7sQDQ9beoaVORG6DAF2_CY4rOtca4mCWm2FfdpQg-29DZTmGQwq_nBtEo7AD5w/s1600/wave.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson is behind me, holding what I thought was a cowbell. Later I found out it was a cinnamon bun. That's my boy.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVUJFlnx8zUE1du-p5DZY5uvZxbgJs2kGM6o8ZEgZRL87bEB2ad85NvP0n-NQTTo5VyDZgUTjtQHH2RF5HvGL-PHRBIolZiTBIsWhNkMcSpo2Qky_kHb5TRcKB1W6oIN98VEukAg/s1600/DSC_0034.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVUJFlnx8zUE1du-p5DZY5uvZxbgJs2kGM6o8ZEgZRL87bEB2ad85NvP0n-NQTTo5VyDZgUTjtQHH2RF5HvGL-PHRBIolZiTBIsWhNkMcSpo2Qky_kHb5TRcKB1W6oIN98VEukAg/s1600/DSC_0034.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a> <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_B5-SWJzGGR7neBJE_TNPau7HuYQV9UcAUDyOyf72vopQbQ1jO6M7USnQHObG6lPOJylfcyaRp962HXMPM-pAn-njRff5FmiU2uzyU3ymVbn5WjujeyY-wIIOltG_cmE6LP-uA/s1600/DSC_0050.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_B5-SWJzGGR7neBJE_TNPau7HuYQV9UcAUDyOyf72vopQbQ1jO6M7USnQHObG6lPOJylfcyaRp962HXMPM-pAn-njRff5FmiU2uzyU3ymVbn5WjujeyY-wIIOltG_cmE6LP-uA/s1600/DSC_0050.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXSE8SAccvXN-aoWQ54Snyb3s8niGIQ2LHvFoijzEBJMGaXeA5fhgRsM_xOknbBNRnOGk8OrW8jVgBVS9dhIkmC8-ZNQv3jB84QsOOtHeddS1UgKmUQXSGz7bZsMlXEuy4k8DM-Q/s1600/DSC_0052.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXSE8SAccvXN-aoWQ54Snyb3s8niGIQ2LHvFoijzEBJMGaXeA5fhgRsM_xOknbBNRnOGk8OrW8jVgBVS9dhIkmC8-ZNQv3jB84QsOOtHeddS1UgKmUQXSGz7bZsMlXEuy4k8DM-Q/s1600/DSC_0052.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD_BQ2UM7BwKv4_C8Y4qAe455Ms6T7jFnEGwDWFqO6OuuGoWBIAWXqv45kAWDlDQsqVVORmCaKqh7M14GOvM_eRDQIg6lM5ev-8G1bPzyfEp73zssFZXU4fpPMU9186DXFXse8Mg/s1600/DSC_0054.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD_BQ2UM7BwKv4_C8Y4qAe455Ms6T7jFnEGwDWFqO6OuuGoWBIAWXqv45kAWDlDQsqVVORmCaKqh7M14GOvM_eRDQIg6lM5ev-8G1bPzyfEp73zssFZXU4fpPMU9186DXFXse8Mg/s1600/DSC_0054.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then I ran another 100 yards and saw this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUyOGmFBTZdSu7CW3-B9hRQMFNcYysyYrgwn4-zaCoBE2Tltaot29OQqrFAW_vcpq9yZJqiFAZtSN3ZViWyCfzVU5e9kiadKcQ7PTdbHjgjCrZtQbRqf1LRCSupNiWGlVFbp4Ow/s1600/sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUyOGmFBTZdSu7CW3-B9hRQMFNcYysyYrgwn4-zaCoBE2Tltaot29OQqrFAW_vcpq9yZJqiFAZtSN3ZViWyCfzVU5e9kiadKcQ7PTdbHjgjCrZtQbRqf1LRCSupNiWGlVFbp4Ow/s1600/sign.jpg" height="219" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I looked at it, pointed, and yelled, "Hey! That's me!" to the people standing on the lawn. They all started cheering, and a woman yelled, "Pablo made it for you!" and I realized that it was one of my APUSH students. Turns out he was in the house when I ran by, but it seriously made me tear up seeing the big sign. Here I am running in Rocky River, photos courtesy of Pablo's mom:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDlzGzRgTlkEQhti7dzvQxTNfYBxAHLj0uqI2XYzobSKHw0kcOd0jXZ2fmlnuXTP6LlxzJy80v8BfEVAcSRHeuyBaXa8yG5DIhSCw_8WIytzljXIxIUDeN2gfbAw82aSxQoJCoNw/s1600/Run1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDlzGzRgTlkEQhti7dzvQxTNfYBxAHLj0uqI2XYzobSKHw0kcOd0jXZ2fmlnuXTP6LlxzJy80v8BfEVAcSRHeuyBaXa8yG5DIhSCw_8WIytzljXIxIUDeN2gfbAw82aSxQoJCoNw/s1600/Run1.jpg" height="176" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3IsCGvrQl813-VqyZSPrn2lX7s7WLWn2El3vmXRHmcX5jmC47HU43RhDC2TDMrZL_MUrWhM4iW376YQ7Yl9a3IMle8cjxgpYO6ze8Ic4yxIXqvFQllFH8L5iAUYiUkLMP-XWsfA/s1600/Run2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3IsCGvrQl813-VqyZSPrn2lX7s7WLWn2El3vmXRHmcX5jmC47HU43RhDC2TDMrZL_MUrWhM4iW376YQ7Yl9a3IMle8cjxgpYO6ze8Ic4yxIXqvFQllFH8L5iAUYiUkLMP-XWsfA/s1600/Run2.jpg" height="198" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Right on pace and feeling pretty good</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I saw my awesome brother, who got ALL the running talent in my family. He was out there in two different spots, and it moved me to tears. I didn't know he'd be out there. I thought of the times I went to his Cross Country meets to cheer him on and how fast and talented he is despite him feeling "slow" next to his eventual-D1 college-running friends. Maybe some of that talent will show up in me today? Having him there gave me a little hope.<br />
<br />
Then we turned around. And I saw about 10 million more friends at Mile 16, including my training partner Katie, who already punched her ticket to Boston last fall. I still felt good. I thought, this is the day. This is the day I do this. I headed back through downtown Rocky River and my friend Pat snapped this picture--I'm making a horrible face with the sun, but I still felt pretty good at this point. It was almost mile 18.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-cPUKyZe7bSWgQ6FWR0ShONtVwW8iXguP66aQ8MtZv9VbnRUvoqwpdR4yOZY1OoepL3sngPbq9rvZIWz9LimI78AugJY-aEBO18DhhgJ74bliYkBZFmbY8Nmm8E9SgjU5po839Q/s1600/Run3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-cPUKyZe7bSWgQ6FWR0ShONtVwW8iXguP66aQ8MtZv9VbnRUvoqwpdR4yOZY1OoepL3sngPbq9rvZIWz9LimI78AugJY-aEBO18DhhgJ74bliYkBZFmbY8Nmm8E9SgjU5po839Q/s1600/Run3.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
I kept with the pacer over the bridge and turned into Lakewood.<br />
<br />
And then something happened.<br />
<br />
My right calf seized up. Like, a pregnancy leg cramp gone wild, for those who know what I mean. If you don't know what I mean, basically, my right calf knotted up and scared the crap out of me and made me double over and go "AGGGGGHHH!" People around me gasped. "Are you okay?" people said. I shook my head yes, tried to stretch it, and kept going. The pacer surged ahead, but I thought no biggie--I'll just keep him a little ahead of me and I'll be fine. I hit mile 19.<br />
<br />
Then the other calf did it.<br />
<br />
I stopped at the aid station, grabbed 3 powerades, chugged, and quickly stretched my calf. And swore. Willed it to stop. Kept going.<br />
<br />
I hit the 30K mark right on time. Average pace, 8:10/mile. This was the fastest and farthest I'd ever gone.<br />
<br />
And then All The Muscles cramped. Both legs, seizing up. Toes curling. I had to run flat-footed, but was still holding an 8:30 pace. No. This is not happening.<br />
<br />
I saw my awesome friends, Tom and Casey and Len and Kelly. Len gave me a water bottle, and I chugged it. I took my last gu. I said a little prayer. Please. Please, not with a 10K to go. Come on body. Move. <br />
<br />
Mile 20.<br />
<br />
I surged again. The pacer was gone, but I was still hoping I could do it. <br />
<br />
PAIN.<br />
<br />
Surge.<br />
<br />
PAIN.<br />
<br />
It was awful. I was doubling over, and spectators were looking at me with pity. I did everything I could to keep moving, but I was now falling way off pace and into the 9s.<br />
<br />
Around 22, the 3:40 pacer caught me. Amanda was there. She had has some trouble back at 17 but caught him and held on. He was amazing and did everything he could to keep me moving. I was stifling screams at this point and trying so hard to run. I saw my friends Kim and Tim and they yelled some encouragement. It was mile 23.<br />
<br />
And then, one more stabbing pain, and I screamed. And stopped.<br />
<br />
And they ran away.<br />
<br />
And that was it. It was over, and I knew it. And I looked at the pavement tears welling up, too much pain to even get an f-bomb out.<br />
<br />
I was crushed. But I had to somehow get downtown. I stared at the shoreway in front of me and knew I had to get there, but at this point, I just wanted it to be over. I wanted to jump in the lake and swim the way home. The emotional hurt was almost as much as the physical, and the physical hurt was second only to the delivery of my two kids.<br />
<br />
Over the past two days, I've been replaying that moment in my head, tormenting myself. Was there any way I could keep going? Amanda finished in 3:38. I could have stuck with her and done it. Couldn't I? Was I just weak?<br />
<br />
I don't think so. But I wonder. And it hurts. It hurts almost as much as the hurt I felt staring at a long, empty road, trying to move.<br />
<br />
The next two miles were basically a blur of shuffling. I looked something like this:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVOX6Pd_D1nbeTzzlxsLVmykmsi85xPM1eLKmIv-GjFK46V3hkPpo2tfDm8USdmaRbuGNJD7XyS4KIt7EsD3l3nLCZv2jcbD6DW4CwaXytwwfD-w9l2qGdl_jWiMy4K8adFJTS7g/s1600/run4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVOX6Pd_D1nbeTzzlxsLVmykmsi85xPM1eLKmIv-GjFK46V3hkPpo2tfDm8USdmaRbuGNJD7XyS4KIt7EsD3l3nLCZv2jcbD6DW4CwaXytwwfD-w9l2qGdl_jWiMy4K8adFJTS7g/s1600/run4.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of my friend, Beth. I actually don't look like death here too much.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVp3e44vOk-FaD6aGBdRhGtDdTXEP12Ti5DhSptDmt17w7z0A0atOzgW6RNvJa09sEgD9jlFl5tkKwnGM8tEr6Ll5115s3twyiux49Sq9_N5wWWgn6AwC3GlvGW46vDQUGSDH0dw/s1600/run5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVp3e44vOk-FaD6aGBdRhGtDdTXEP12Ti5DhSptDmt17w7z0A0atOzgW6RNvJa09sEgD9jlFl5tkKwnGM8tEr6Ll5115s3twyiux49Sq9_N5wWWgn6AwC3GlvGW46vDQUGSDH0dw/s1600/run5.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here I do. Definitely look like death here.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I somehow miraculously shuffled my way to 13-14 minute miles these two miles. This is how I felt:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3udu1xsH9fz5rOzdSeNEKFFZ11RUJc9Hgce-3moNpDyCFkzoSGVEsiEa6k0FehxWFuzg4OPySEKKxV2DuXDedIF38NicZWPXUkdrVQjAANQrTrUiAERt0Bt_q-dYwAWEkj5A2w/s1600/The-Walking-Dead-s2-e6-secrets-walkers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3udu1xsH9fz5rOzdSeNEKFFZ11RUJc9Hgce-3moNpDyCFkzoSGVEsiEa6k0FehxWFuzg4OPySEKKxV2DuXDedIF38NicZWPXUkdrVQjAANQrTrUiAERt0Bt_q-dYwAWEkj5A2w/s1600/The-Walking-Dead-s2-e6-secrets-walkers.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doin' the Zombie Shuffle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It was pretty awful. I was not proud.<br />
<br />
I kept thinking the 4 hour group would pass me any second, and was ready to be crushed yet again when that happened. But then I hit mile 25 and looked at my watch and thought, "Are you kidding me?" I was still going to come in--comfortably--under 4 hours.<br />
<br />
What?<br />
<br />
That gave me at least a little bit of a surge to not look like a total asshat the last mile. I vowed to make it there and smile. This was my 7th marathon (8th if you count IM Wisconsin), and I was still going to come in under 4 hours. There had to be some kind of a silver lining in here somewhere.<br />
<br />
The crowds were amazing. I shuffled my zombie walk, and I smiled.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4yrzjV_h258pUjBDd3_BRLDXbygT-yb0DXRrEyS1l-CnVIf-jhvNn5QDSOM7ItvZYEQPtWFfeSHCS4YNnP7GXutjiR6oTQJ6G70C1DgwJCEhg99S-23rKXZd92Sd-qh0BRd0Bg/s1600/finish2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4yrzjV_h258pUjBDd3_BRLDXbygT-yb0DXRrEyS1l-CnVIf-jhvNn5QDSOM7ItvZYEQPtWFfeSHCS4YNnP7GXutjiR6oTQJ6G70C1DgwJCEhg99S-23rKXZd92Sd-qh0BRd0Bg/s1600/finish2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading down the chute</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And wow, my finish line pictures are seriously the best I've ever taken. I'm smiling and look strong in every single one, despite feeling so heartbroken and bombing my goal miserably. I guess the worse the finish line photo, the better the performance, right?<br />
<br />
I saw my family. I smiled and waved. I almost stopped--I really should have--to hug them. Matt worked so hard to get the kids where they needed to be to cheer me on, to watch me BQ. I felt like I let them down a bit. I know I didn't, but that's what I felt at that moment. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTB88eO2N-fjA5Fm7ASSbtRmJEIYKK_7l9JPHuGnXnvsuZ3970iJwnGw0MLeeD6UY3OzOaj7mKhQ5cYWSCpv1xL8cWWadd179_4nzUNFqBPV2BPPCCpcyF2sB-ovnlIdAdgvm2Q/s1600/DSC_0069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTB88eO2N-fjA5Fm7ASSbtRmJEIYKK_7l9JPHuGnXnvsuZ3970iJwnGw0MLeeD6UY3OzOaj7mKhQ5cYWSCpv1xL8cWWadd179_4nzUNFqBPV2BPPCCpcyF2sB-ovnlIdAdgvm2Q/s1600/DSC_0069.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This might be the most flattering finish line photo ever taken </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJlf8BAK42XZdoy3_aAPlPwCe72Kh4vIHf5ZDpphHqBwE-QpGGeNrwNtsU-iuvWNLtWZ2GI6Bm7lAgAcsx_yqNJR1ZXjCc6q49iZmdHeAuqTkOpd4y3AIz2wDk8OT0BPs2jdYUbA/s1600/DSC_0070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJlf8BAK42XZdoy3_aAPlPwCe72Kh4vIHf5ZDpphHqBwE-QpGGeNrwNtsU-iuvWNLtWZ2GI6Bm7lAgAcsx_yqNJR1ZXjCc6q49iZmdHeAuqTkOpd4y3AIz2wDk8OT0BPs2jdYUbA/s1600/DSC_0070.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All I had left was a smile. Everything else was gone.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZOUc0ZKhP3vH6xw6m8FTlLRo2_t3QU5atxAfpLcBJ2_VnQPpnJOkTzDBrZDm3aJdCL9UJDqUqLBe0tGhtid5nizEB51TQ6nIq4PcmjOn8BtI82L64XNoohyDt7lGgyPLH9a0Sw/s1600/DSC_0071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZOUc0ZKhP3vH6xw6m8FTlLRo2_t3QU5atxAfpLcBJ2_VnQPpnJOkTzDBrZDm3aJdCL9UJDqUqLBe0tGhtid5nizEB51TQ6nIq4PcmjOn8BtI82L64XNoohyDt7lGgyPLH9a0Sw/s1600/DSC_0071.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">FINISH</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI2OwmL6iNyfJL9GkA19wIe7Dpuf7VA0QgLjcp_m1OMBuz3QOi-PKf_-Ey5S0a4A14FVkEDK6sxtn8sl8ZVEXoPxFSbgo6LwV6c65TZoOUPp-THKPzx2-NMki3WJfxtNPt-xbMzw/s1600/DSC_0066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI2OwmL6iNyfJL9GkA19wIe7Dpuf7VA0QgLjcp_m1OMBuz3QOi-PKf_-Ey5S0a4A14FVkEDK6sxtn8sl8ZVEXoPxFSbgo6LwV6c65TZoOUPp-THKPzx2-NMki3WJfxtNPt-xbMzw/s1600/DSC_0066.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emmy, cheering me on</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_CX5BK3cCWzSyGcAXa45FUwLNH0RZakdoD5Amfw-XU3qZF9F-ud2vM-tG9-TA51AEE2PZKmEGv_wU2fi7uOlrPZp5ecIF_50uvdoWOU6ySRxsMowI7LjBDuYV7lvdx52qWesCYg/s1600/DSC_0076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_CX5BK3cCWzSyGcAXa45FUwLNH0RZakdoD5Amfw-XU3qZF9F-ud2vM-tG9-TA51AEE2PZKmEGv_wU2fi7uOlrPZp5ecIF_50uvdoWOU6ySRxsMowI7LjBDuYV7lvdx52qWesCYg/s1600/DSC_0076.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My kids loved this statue downtown!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And I smiled and crossed the line. 3:54, my 2nd fastest marathon ever.<br />
<br />
And then the tears stung my eyes again. <br />
<br />
But before I could descend into a spiral of self-pity, one of my favorite yoga instructors snapped this picture of me and gave me a huge hug and told me how amazing it was that I just finished, so I smiled again:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ysYZvh6WPR3O18EjbUs6cNugj5hRCnLHZh3c0mEXHBnqBFpvvPu9taKxRwPDYg_pptX08D0M63ME3qH0tTFOAGX7sUrcFAIJZtD0HJsyq7-vnwB9tulChPivpdUDzJMsM5Qodg/s1600/finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ysYZvh6WPR3O18EjbUs6cNugj5hRCnLHZh3c0mEXHBnqBFpvvPu9taKxRwPDYg_pptX08D0M63ME3qH0tTFOAGX7sUrcFAIJZtD0HJsyq7-vnwB9tulChPivpdUDzJMsM5Qodg/s1600/finish.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I honestly look happy. I'm a pretty good actress.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Amazing that I finished.</i> I wiped the tear away again, and thought, you know what, it kind of is. It's amazing that I finished.<br />
<br />
<i>I'm tired of being disappointed with amazing performances</i>, and that's what I feel that this quest has done to me over the past 8-9 months. I went 3:41 in Columbus and 3:54 here, and I was--I am--disappointed. That's wrong. The rational person in me understands that.<br />
<br />
Looking at that picture, I look so strong and lean. I almost didn't recognize myself.<br />
<br />
Compare that with these two:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxKmO4jQg5BJ-SczZRo3uiYc7tJe1LsNeBD5JT13YRgX7El4A2SnXA7x6ADISNg3_R0rzYQnNm_FEOwFmXJ3KTJcpJP0P0EDtMjpHIKbhzDSk_ZgzfWhY_29ClP7YynSUiKANWyg/s1600/2003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxKmO4jQg5BJ-SczZRo3uiYc7tJe1LsNeBD5JT13YRgX7El4A2SnXA7x6ADISNg3_R0rzYQnNm_FEOwFmXJ3KTJcpJP0P0EDtMjpHIKbhzDSk_ZgzfWhY_29ClP7YynSUiKANWyg/s1600/2003.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finish line of my first marathon, 5:14</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinT4bW7MEtT8zd-Bj7WBNSllR3xtNik5lcOkk2xlP6QRnGJPQP8iRotm8JadZq5ZrJNFu065EJkA-j8HUyCLNQHFS6TwThl_PQnC_KQzOzw0zCUqjUh6ftx0pTDbaNlX4UjUmC7w/s1600/2003again.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinT4bW7MEtT8zd-Bj7WBNSllR3xtNik5lcOkk2xlP6QRnGJPQP8iRotm8JadZq5ZrJNFu065EJkA-j8HUyCLNQHFS6TwThl_PQnC_KQzOzw0zCUqjUh6ftx0pTDbaNlX4UjUmC7w/s1600/2003again.jpg" height="320" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It rained a lot. I didn't care.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Elated. Not lean. Happy.<br />
<br />
There has to be some kind of a way to put those two people together. <br />
<br />
I'm not exactly sure where I'm going to go from here. I'm not making any decisions until I can walk normally again. I'm overwhelmed with all the love and support that has been thrown my way. Any finish line is amazing and something to be celebrated, and I think I need to somehow get in touch with that. That might mean hanging up this goal for a while. Or not. I'm not sure.<br />
<br />
I do know that I am loved and supported, and that despite everything that went wrong, a lot went right. I am still stronger than I ever was--at age 36 with two kids--and stronger than I ever thought I could be. So that's good.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu2H_gjmNzNfcMbeztHfJiA0pI3KJy_lOCOUni4bydfpSng6eSIaxAxXhsFQXbltIjX96rB-fSRn4Fvv7cDabkHP3epLtgyScNgw48XupTXE9H81buITNP-aurd31oKpvDiQR5sA/s1600/DSC_0079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu2H_gjmNzNfcMbeztHfJiA0pI3KJy_lOCOUni4bydfpSng6eSIaxAxXhsFQXbltIjX96rB-fSRn4Fvv7cDabkHP3epLtgyScNgw48XupTXE9H81buITNP-aurd31oKpvDiQR5sA/s1600/DSC_0079.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You wanna talk about strength? Meet this girl. My former student, Blaire, who finished her first half. She's kind of amazing. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I am sure I'll be replaying the what-ifs and coulda-done-this and shoulda-just-signed-up-for-CLE for a while.<br />
<br />
Here's the thing: none of us have crystal balls. I can't predict the future, the weather, or what my legs will do. All I can do is try. On Monday, I told my students (who I could tell were a little disappointed as I told them a second time that I tried and failed to reach a goal I set) that I reach high, but I fall hard. And that's just my personality. I'm not a play-it-safe person with this stuff, and sometimes it works, and other times it doesn't. That is the risk you take, but that's a risk I still believe is worth taking.<br />
<br />
My good friend Jo, who I am sad that I will not be attending Boston with, <a href="http://allsevenseas.blogspot.com/2014/04/in-which-trying-is-sweet-spot.html">said it much better than I can. For me, trying is the sweet spot.</a> I know I'll try again. I don't know when.<br />
<br />
But one of these days the girl who never should make it to Boston will get there.<br />
<br />
<br />Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-22529549975211243792014-04-21T08:17:00.002-05:002014-04-21T08:17:59.760-05:00Spring Break Fresh Start GoOkay, so I wallowed for maybe an extra day or two. In snow. <br />
<br />
But I'm ready now. I feel at peace with my decision to stop at the half in Athens, and I am excited to get back on the horse and make this thing happen.<br />
<br />
It's fitting, really, that I'll make this happen in Cleveland. 12 years ago and 35 pounds heavier, I finished my first marathon in Cleveland in five hours and fourteen minutes. They even changed the course this year to be more like that old course, and it is all on the west side. Miles 13-19 are in the city that I teach in. The turnaround is about 2 miles from my house. <br />
<br />
In short, imma gonna have support and friendly faces ALL up on that course. <br />
<br />
So I'm ready. I'm not really sure how to connect the dots from a botched attempt at a race where I was very tapered to May 18th, but that's why I have Coach do the leg work for me. <br />
<br />
And you know what? The sun is out. It's getting warmer. I'm heading to Chattanooga Wednesday for our annual <a href="http://www.evotri.com/">Evotri</a> Training Camp and it's gonna be hot and hilly, so I can get in a good 16 miles of heat and hills and trails. <br />
<br />
It may be hot in Cleveland, and I'm going to have to deal with that as it comes. But, as my friend Katie said to me yesterday, "There was 100% chance it was too hot in Athens at mile 13." Indeed. So I'm going to have to roll the dice and hope and pray that it's not that hot in Cleveland on May 18th. But if it is, I'm going to do whatever I can to acclimate and be ready. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9-FJJ_FZO_JTb5gnX6TWIL4CcyNp78vItjm7nAy5RKiMVe8c3vYc2X2Reb23qQLt9D5_LnpzmYff45aOhNHh8TmEXyQmnXIkgzlcYeMhu6Dqb2Uh9DOTf_RjALXMWEHn4PB-AJw/s1600/MV5BMTY4MTc4NjcxMl5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwNzk5Njk1Mw@@._V1_SY317_CR1,0,214,317_AL_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9-FJJ_FZO_JTb5gnX6TWIL4CcyNp78vItjm7nAy5RKiMVe8c3vYc2X2Reb23qQLt9D5_LnpzmYff45aOhNHh8TmEXyQmnXIkgzlcYeMhu6Dqb2Uh9DOTf_RjALXMWEHn4PB-AJw/s1600/MV5BMTY4MTc4NjcxMl5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwNzk5Njk1Mw@@._V1_SY317_CR1,0,214,317_AL_.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm sorry. I couldn't resist. And Betty White is just so awesome.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'll be a hell of a lot more ready than I was on April 13th, anyway. Our CLE schizophrenic April weather is in full swing, but today will be 75, so when these days come, I'm just going to have to get out there and run in it.<br />
<br />
It is worth mentioning that my legs were trashed after last Sunday's race. Those 13.1 were no joke and took quite a bit out of me. I ran the half in somewhere around 1:46 (not counting two stops) which would be a PR for me. Um, yay? <br />
<br />
Anyway, the heat left me very sore and dehydrated. But I feel like myself again today after my run, and I'm ready to hit this hard and make it happen.<br />
<br />
This jam has been pumping me up this week. Enjoy.<br />
<iframe width="360" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/1F6gAN6MOII" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
Oh, and hang on for the ride--this will be an interesting journey to the next start line.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-14191132431182078172014-04-15T19:43:00.002-05:002014-04-15T19:43:34.318-05:00Minus 50So less than 48 hours after it was too hot for me to finish a marathon, I woke up to this:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTxCd-CMpXQl2CD99zDxBGE8OtTLFfGvbwMl6cqXGaULh5COCC-W3tHL5KF4dngV7evdXN8BFMtEvQ6FAQ7fqnhRSk1z4dv3jnFJNicWL6dRFh3OPpYEUQ3VUh6UYvnUcmbp0EPw/s1600/wtf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTxCd-CMpXQl2CD99zDxBGE8OtTLFfGvbwMl6cqXGaULh5COCC-W3tHL5KF4dngV7evdXN8BFMtEvQ6FAQ7fqnhRSk1z4dv3jnFJNicWL6dRFh3OPpYEUQ3VUh6UYvnUcmbp0EPw/s1600/wtf.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">WHAT</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I mean....I....what the...<br />
<br />
There are no words.<br />
<br />
Except, of course, that clearly that was NOT meant to be my day. <br />
<br />
Have a rotten cold at the moment--might be the 50 degree temperature swing in the past two days--but I'm trying to regroup and psych myself up to do this again--for real this time.<br />
<br />
I'm very excited that Spring Break starts on Friday and I get to head to TN next week for some much needed fun and training with my <a href="http://www.evotri.com/">Evotri</a> teammates. Oh, and a long run, too, I guess. I'm gonna need to con them into that somehow. Maybe I can break it up a bit and they can each take an hour? Maybe I can promise them lots of beer?<br />
<br />
Trying to keep the chin up over here. Been a rough week, and not just with this race. But I know that all this work wasn't wasted. There's still a good engine in here. I just need to get the chance to let it work.Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-31993583180601648192014-04-13T20:07:00.001-05:002014-04-13T20:07:33.095-05:00Today, I can cryOkay, so first of all, I'm a bad blogger and just saw the comments from Robyn and Jo in my moderation folder and promptly cried again. You both rock. Thank you. <br />
<br />
There is so much irony in today, that somehow this has to be funny. It will be, someday. But not today.<br />
<br />
I'm allowed to cry today. Just today. Then I'm done.<br />
<br />
That whole weather/heat thing I was worried about? And I tried really hard to ignore it but checked a few more times and watched the low and high temperatures creep up, up, and up some more?<br />
<br />
It did me in.<br />
<br />
The thing that just kills me, and Robyn sort of hit this on the head, is that I did SO many things right this training cycle. I ate clean, got up so early and nailed EVERY. SINGLE. RUN. that I did. I am leaner and without a doubt, much stronger than I was in October. I knew I had this. I just knew it. <br />
<br />
I told my friends about 11 days before the race (aka the night before the first time I could check the weather report) that "I am ready for anything that might throw at me--except heat, of course! LOL" <br />
<br />
LOL. LOL, indeed.<br />
<br />
In the past 4 months, I have not done one run outside in a temperature warmer than 36 degrees.<br />
<br />
Not one.<br />
<br />
I did two treadmill runs of 14 miles when the ice and wind chills were so bad. They sucked, but I did them. All of my morning runs were inside. Every single one.<br />
<br />
Today, the low was 61 and the high was 81 in Athens. It was, quite literally, the warmest day of 2014. And probably the warmest of the past 6 months. 35+ degrees warmer than any outside run I have done since September.<br />
<br />
And I really wanted to believe it wouldn't be that bad, because how could it? I have nailed every single run I have done this session and then some. My buddies have been surprised at me, because I'm not usually the one setting the pace--I'm usually the one frantically trying to keep up. <br />
<br />
I did <i>everything</i> right.<br />
<br />
It didn't matter. <br />
<br />
See, I have this thing that I don't like to admit or talk about, but it's this irregular heart thing involving extra beats. And I've been aware of it for over 20 years, and it almost never ever causes me problems. The only time I EVER notice is when it's hot. Temperatures that to many don't seem too warm can really mess me up, big time: crazy high heart rates that defy all logic. <br />
<br />
I realized at mile 9 today that I felt like it was mile 22. And mile 9 is entirely too early to feel like it's mile 22. <br />
<br />
I kept going, but I knew that it was only going to get hotter, and my heart was doing that racing in the heat thing again, and it was just too early for that.<br />
<br />
So I did what was really, really difficult: I decided I was done at 13.1. I decided I was going to stop and try again at Cleveland, even though Cleveland is usually too hot for me to succeed. <br />
<br />
It was hard. I said the F word and cried a lot. I wanted to keep going.<br />
<br />
But it wasn't going to work, and I knew it. So I cried some more, and I'm crying a bit here while I type and then I'm done because I have to go to work tomorrow and I can't be sniffling while teaching World History and doing practice DBQs. <br />
<br />
To quote the great Forrest Gump, <i>that's about all I have to say about that.</i> <br />
<br />
What kind of kills me the most is that I know I can do this. That, and Tuesday is supposed to be 36 degrees and snowing both in Athens and Cleveland.<br />
<br />
You're <i>soooo</i> FUNNY, Mother Nature! $(#)%&!<br />
<br />
So much irony in the ONE SINGLE DAY I would have loved it to be 40 degrees and cloudy, it was in the mid 70s and not a cloud was in the sky. So much irony in that I am in the best shape of my life and I have to stop--no, I made the <i>decision</i> to stop, which I think is even harder--trying to reach a goal that I know that I absolutely can achieve.<br />
<br />
Got home, and got this shirt in the mail finally that I was hoping would come before the race so I could wear it. It's from <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/SheIsClothing">this shop</a>, and I kind of love it:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwp5JV88u_C1YCx66bveC9EInYGF8-G7bONbU7KvrM6uijEGQD080OdOi3Mrx8U2PNW9V4y1KM2gUikqv1LuPm1KXK3dZYxRHFO9Wx9v7ZdtvqNizPO1ZNAo6IlRysHr-wt5_Bw/s1600/sheis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwp5JV88u_C1YCx66bveC9EInYGF8-G7bONbU7KvrM6uijEGQD080OdOi3Mrx8U2PNW9V4y1KM2gUikqv1LuPm1KXK3dZYxRHFO9Wx9v7ZdtvqNizPO1ZNAo6IlRysHr-wt5_Bw/s1600/sheis.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
Elle est forte. She is strong. Proverbs 31:25<br />
<br />
<i>"She is clothed with strength and dignity and laughs without fear of the future" --Proverbs 31:25</i><br />
<br />
It was just a bit too late--in fact, I missed it by probably just a few minutes as we left yesterday afternoon. <i>Just</i> missed it. <br />
<br />
But she <i>is</i> strong. <a href="http://www.clevelandmarathon.com/">She <i>will</i> try again</a>.<br />
<br />
She will <i>also</i> cry for about another hour though.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-44946144281144898072014-04-05T09:36:00.000-05:002014-04-05T09:36:45.268-05:00Fall down seven times, stand up eightAbout a month ago, I found out I was selected as a <a href="http://www.womenshealthmag.com/life/action-heroes">Women's Health Magazine Action Hero</a>! I was quite surprised, and super excited. It's been fun connecting with a dynamic and diverse group of women: we are pretty much at all stages of life. Some in their teens, most in their twenties, and a few like me, too. Seasoned veterans. (That sounds a lot better than "older.") <br />
<br />I mean, I did start blogging here in 2005. In the good old days! When internet was one step above dial-up! And I was about to start my Ironman journey! Oh, man. In some ways, that feels like yesterday, and in other ways, it seems like...well, like almost a decade ago.<br />
<br />
So much has happened since then. <br />
<br />
I was assigned to write my post this week for our Action Hero blog, and I smiled. Perfect timing. I need to stop and reflect anyway, and think about this <a href="http://www.athensmarathon.org/Athens_Marathon/home.html">marathon</a> I'm going to run next Sunday. What can I say about where I've been and what I'm about to attempt?<br />
<br />
When I think about where I've been and where I'm about to head next Sunday, it's a little surreal. In 2002, I completed my first marathon in a time of 5:14. I remember it pouring rain on me as I brought up the back of the pack that year. I also remember not caring. I was just so happy to make it to the finish line, even if they were tearing it down. Even if the balloons at the finish had already blown away.<br />
<br />
I set a goal, and I made it.<br />
<br />
That was 35 pounds heavier. That was before I had two children. Literally--it was almost a lifetime ago.<br />
<br />
I was, most assuredly, a different person.<br />
<br />
That first marathon made me dream <i>bigger</i>. I set my sights on the <a href="http://bikeoha.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR?pg=entry&fr_id=23877">MS150 Pedal to the Point</a> the following summer, and although my buddy Peter and I were too tired to even go to <a href="https://www.cedarpoint.com/">Cedar Point</a> that night and instead watched the E! True Hollywood Story of Anna Nicole Smith in a run-down Howard Johnson's in Sandusky (yeah. that's pretty pathetic), we made it. I rode 150+ miles in 2 days. <br />
<br />
So then, of course, the next thought that popped in my head was, "hey, I'm just about a 2.4 mile swim away from <a href="http://www.ironman.com/">Ironman</a>." <br />
<br />
Because that's totally logical, right?<br />
<br />
Since 2002, I've seen a precedent set of dreaming <i>very</i> big. Bigger than I had any reason or really any right to do. I certainly did not look like an Ironman triathlete. But I decided I'd build up toward that. In 2005, I took 56 minutes off my marathon time and finished the <a href="http://www.flyingpigmarathon.com/">Flying Pig Marathon</a> in 4:20.<br />
<br />
<i>So could I break 4?</i><br />
<br />
But in between, I focused on <a href="http://www.ironmanwisconsin.com/">Ironman</a>. And what a <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2006/08/september-eve_115707444334600782.html">journey it was</a>. I made some amazing friends and despite having pretty much the worst weather you could have for an Ironman, it was honestly one of the best and most <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2006/09/runnin-down-dream-part-i.html">memorable days of my life. </a><br />
<br />
Then, I had a day that topped that, and <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2007/10/hardest-thing-ive-ever-physically-done.html">my little Jackson entered my world</a> and stole my heart. <br />
<br />
Training became something different then--it wasn't just about me and my times. It was about justifying my time away. I didn't just want to run aimlessly; I wanted to run with purpose. Every ride, every swim I did had a focus in a way that I didn't quite have before. <br />
<br />
And because of this, I got faster.<br />
<br />
Every time I had in every distance started to drop. In 2008, I set my best bike/run split at Steelhead 70.3. Then, I <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2008/10/race-report-columbus-marathon-2008.html">broke 4 hours </a>in the marathon at Columbus. That May, I had a great day at the Cleveland Half Marathon, and then I got pregnant with my little bean, Emery Grace.<br />
<br />
The joke some of my friends told me really was true: one kid was pretty managable, but two kids made it feel like you had an army. (Major props to anyone with more than 2 kids. You are my heroes, all of you.) Between working full-time and working out, I had to prioritize even more and get even more focused.<br />
<br />
And my times dropped again. When Emery was 6 months old, I <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2010/09/race-report-rev3-cedar-point-703.html">PR'd the 70.3 distance </a>by 16 minutes. <br />
<br />
That's when I really felt like <a href="http://www.baa.org/">Boston</a> might be within grasp.<br />
<br />
So I tried. And <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2011/05/on-risking-it.html">failed</a>. And tried again. And almost, just <i>almost</i> made it, <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2013/10/race-report-columbus-marathon-2013.html">and missed it again</a>. <br />
<br />
So here I am. <a href="http://www.athensmarathon.org/Athens_Marathon/home.html">One week out from another attempt</a>. I feel stronger than ever and very fit. I know I have put everything I have into this race: every ounce of my focus outside of being a wife, mother, and teaching, has gone into this race. <br />
<br />
It is still a reach. There are no guarantees.<br />
<br />
But I think about whatever will happen at this finish line and what I'll say to my kids. They are only 6 and 4; they have no idea what Boston is or means or how hard I've worked to get there, since I've done most of the work while they were sleeping. But someday, I will tell them. I'll tell them that Mommy had a dream...a dream that sounded crazy and unreachable, but step by step, finish line by finish line, she inched even closer.<br />
<br />
And there were times when she failed, and felt crushed. She got <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2012/05/heartbreak.html">injured</a> and couldn't compete. She felt like all her time and effort was wasted. But then she remembered the words of a <a href="http://www.evotri.com/">teammate</a>, that no race or training cycle is ever "wasted." <br />
<br />
I learned quite a bit on this 12-year journey since I crossed that first finish line. <br />
<br />
Regardless of what may happen next weekend, I want them to know that you don't ever have to stop trying. <br />
<br />
I'm going to line up at that start line next Sunday with a nice healthy appreciation of where I've been. And then, I'm going to take a deep breath, say a little prayer, trust myself, and take that first step.<br />
<br />
That's the only way you can get anywhere, anyhow.<br />
<br />Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-60655236137610293622014-03-18T20:09:00.000-05:002014-03-18T20:11:02.705-05:00Recovery<b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;"></b><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;">"To be nobody-but-yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody but yourself - means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight- and never stop fighting.” --E.E. Cummings</b></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;"><br />I had a recovery week this past week, and due to a certain sweet little 4-year-old who felt rotten and slept even rotten-er, I had to do my long run solo on Saturday. This led me with lots of time to think. I've had a post brewing about this for a while, but I'm not sure it's going to come out right. I'm going to give it my best shot. <br /><br />I just recently finished <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Gifts-Imperfection-Supposed-Embrace/dp/159285849X">"The Gifts of Imperfection"</a> by Brene Brown. For anyone who, like me, is a "recovering perfectionist and aspiring good-enoughist," I highly recommend it. I found myself nodding pretty much at least once a page, like, yep, yep, I do that, uh-huh, um, are you HERE WATCHING ME?</b><br />
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;">“Understanding the difference between healthy striving and perfectionism is critical to laying down the shield and picking up your life. Research shows that perfectionism hampers success. In fact, it's often the path to depression, anxiety, addiction, and life paralysis.” --Brene Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection</b></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;"><br />One thing I struggle with--daily--is how to be the best person I can be but for God's sake, cut myself a little slack. Slack, but persistence. Go easy, but push hard. Is it any wonder why I'm drawn to endurance athletics? It's basically my brain wearing a race number, going through one big metaphor.<br /><br />My insistence upon perfection started early. I felt it during swimming, but seeing as I was rarely the fastest person in the pool, I think it was more of a good lesson for me in how to lose humbly. I kept pushing, but I knew I couldn’t be the best. And a little bit of me hated myself for knowing that and surrendering that. Thus began the internal struggle of Good Enough vs. Best Ever. <br /><br />Honestly, how many of us can be the Best Ever? <i>Ever</i>?<br /><br />And how much stress are we wasting trying? The Best Dieter. The Best Parent. The Best Worker. <br /><br />It’s kind of dangerous, because many of us (read: ME) don’t want to admit or realize that it’s just not healthy to live that way. And it’s taking its toll in the form of anxiety, stress, and just general un-pleas</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">a</span><b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;">ntness sometimes. <br /><br />I’ve been working on this lots the past few years, because it was getting to the point where something had to change, or I was going to literally make myself sick. <br /><br />There has to be a way to push yourself to be the best without pushing yourself to the brink of destruction. <br /><br />The thing is, that I don’t remember always being such a worrier or as fearful as I can be now. Certainly I do remember being a little anxious or worried back in the day, especially when I had a recital coming up, a big solo in the concert, tryouts for a team, pitching in that big rivalry game. The normal stuff where butterflies are to be expected, right? But <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2008/07/letter-to-my-pregnant-self-july-28-2007.html">I’ve spoken before about being rewired after I had Bug.</a> It was like instantly, all at once, I held him and my needs were distant. His were first. And making mistakes no longer affected just me. It affected him, too. And my love for him made me want to be the best person I could and make no mistakes, which is, of course, impossible. It’s a good thing for Bug to know I’m not invincible. I get that, yet it doesn’t make it any easier to let him see my faults and my fears. </b><br />
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;">“To love someone fiercely, to believe in something with your whole heart, to celebrate a fleeting moment in time, to fully engage in a life that doesn’t come with guarantees – these are risks that involve vulnerability and often pain. But, I’m learning that recognizing and leaning into the discomfort of vulnerability teaches us how to live with joy, gratitude and grace.” </b></span>--<span style="font-size: x-small;">Brene Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;"><br />Has it <i>always</i> been this way?</b><br />
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;"></b><br />
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;"></b><br />
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;">_________________________________________<br /><br />I have been blessed to have my fair share of successes in my life, but I do remember the times I’ve failed just as much. Most notably, <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2013/10/race-report-columbus-marathon-2013.html">that day last October</a>. Where I still find myself asking, how can I call that a failure? It wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination. A huge breakthrough with a tiny dash of disappointment is probably the more accurate term. And it shouldn’t even be that, but it was. I’m just being honest. <br /><br />But it has made me a hungrier person. I’ve attacked this training with a sense of purpose like I’ve never done before, and I think it’s because I know now that, without a doubt, what I thought was impossible a few years ago is <i>going</i> to happen. And I want it to happen <i>now</i>. <br /><br />One of my most vivid memories of my perfectionism balanced with good-enough-ism comes from Solo and Ensemble Contest during (I think?) my senior year of high school. I can’t remember the year, but I remember the moment right down to what I was wearing. <br /><br />I began playing piano at age 8, and let’s face it, piano is a skill that requires a good amount of perfection. I mean, no one wants to hear someone slaughter a piece, right? So it fed into this tendency I had and usually served me well. <br /><br />Until.<br /><br />Until the time that I attempted a Brahms </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">rhapsody</span><b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;"> that was so hard that virtually no 17-year-old had any business attacking said piece. I can’t remember which piece it was, only that the entire thing was almost black from the notes and that my teacher told me it was “very difficult.” It was a Class A solo—which meant, Really Freaking Hard.<br /><br />Of course! Let’s do it. Because, <i>yes</i>.<br /><br />Because, that’s just what I do. <br /><br />I wish I could go back and tell 17-year-old me that there’s a better piece out there, there’s one that will allow me to showcase my talent—musicality—without driving me to the point of insanity. Now that I am a parent, I <i>really</i> want to tell her that.<br /><br />(But I don’t think she’d listen. She’s pretty fearless. WAY more fearless than me.)<br /><br />I remember lying in bed at night, hearing the melody, moving my fingers on my comforter.<br /><br />I put so much into that piece.<br /><br />And I remember the cold, neon-lit room that I played the piece in, and I remember knowing I did not play it perfectly. But I played it the best that I could, and I threw my heart and soul into it. <br /><br />A score of “I” was the best. Every year, and almost every solo I ever did, whether flute or piano, I received a score of “I.” Because, yes. Of course I did. <br /><br />I walked out, hands still shaking, knowing I would not get a I. And I was strangely okay with that. I had attempted Mount Everest, and I had gotten to the top with a few stumbles. Even 17-year-old me knew enough to respect that.<br /><br />So when I walked into that gross cafeteria with the nasty carpeting (seriously, who ever thinks carpeting in any high school rooms is okay?) to see the scores published on the wall with everyone’s name and school and everything and saw this:<br /><br />“Sara Arcaro, Piano, Class A: IV”<br /><br />I literally felt my jaw hit the ground.<br /><br />Four?<br /><br /><i>FOUR</i>?<br /><br />Four is what they give you when you shouldn’t have even shown up. Did they even GIVE fours at this thing? I mean, seriously. <br /><br />Four is EMBARRASSING. <br /><br />I remember searching the entire list, thinking there must be a mistake. I saw one other kid who got a 4…some trumpet solo or something.<br /><br />And me.<br /><br />I think I might have cried a little, just because I was shocked. It was literally impossible to believe, that I could have been <i>that</i> bad. My piano teacher was livid. We both knew it was not a one, but neither one of us were prepared for a four on that wall.<br /><br />The thing was, I had another Class A flute solo coming up in like 23 minutes, and I needed to pull myself together to do it. But I remember my hands shaking from anger and disappointment and disbelief and I have to go play the flute now? In front of a room full of strangers? <br /><br />I felt like everyone in that entire room must know I failed, like I had a Scarlet IV on my chest or something. I thought of all the hours I spent practicing for my…four. I felt like I had been punched in the gut. <br /><br />And then, I decided that wasn’t going to be how this story ended. So I got my flute, went into another room, said a little prayer and then also said, “screw it, I’m going to play my damn heart out,” and did. And got my final “I.”<br /><br />What I remember most about that day is how strong I was to say, eff this, I’m writing my own ending here, and I don’t care what anyone who sees that list thinks about me. I’m not a four.<br /><br />I don’t think 36 year old me would have that kind of courage. I wish I did.</b><br />
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;"></b><br />
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;"></b><br />
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;"></b><br />
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;">_________________________________________<br /><br />So many of my friends (and ME!) seem to struggle with this pursuit of perfection, and who can blame them (us)? In this Pinterest-worthy world, the pressure is on not just to have a party but to have a PARTY! With EVERYTHING PERFECT! and to have a perfectly coordinated home and well-behaved children with beautiful, handmade clothing and a fulfilling job and meals that are Instagrammable (side note: why is taking pictures of your food a thing? I still don’t really get that).<br /><br />I’ve made a conscious effort over the past few weeks to shut out anything that might make me feel less true to myself. I’ve limited social media to just “hopping on to see what that message says” and changed my morning radio routine to a Spotify playlist, instead of hearing the latest horrible news in Syria, Ukraine, and here. Me. <i>A Social Studies teacher.</i> This is probably against the Social Studies Teacher Handbook, but I’ve done it.<br /><br />I’ve tuned out to everyone else, and tuned into me. <br /><br />I’m trying to really accept me for me, and realize that regardless of what happens in Athens on April 13th, I am still not a four. I showed up. I put my shoes on. I <a href="http://www.theodore-roosevelt.com/trsorbonnespeech.html">Dared Greatly</a>. I set myself up for </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">leaning over a cliff grasping at a star</span><b id="docs-internal-guid-e872f588-d7d3-99ab-1127-a1d99e2dbacd" style="font-weight: normal;">, and if I fall, I fall <i>hard</i>. <br /><br />Because 17-year old me in that cafeteria knows, that that is how you live. <br /><br />She was not afraid.<br /><br />And I need to take a lesson from her.<br /> <br /><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 17px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-38363872310881494242014-03-08T20:11:00.000-05:002014-03-10T19:50:36.232-05:00Checking in: And Killing ItOkay, so yeah, there goes another month and OMG DIDN'T I JUST SAY THAT I WASN'T GOING TO LET THAT HAPPEN.<br />
<br />
Yeah. I'm sorry. Bad blogger! Bad!<br />
<br />
Anyway, I am between bathtime and birthday party pickup time and almost-House-Of-Cards time (which is after bedtime) that is also combined with Vegan Chocolate Ice Cream Time and here I am. Standing in the kitchen, ready to give you an update.<br />
<br />
Because this is how I roll lately, people.<br />
<br />
School = awesome yet crazy. Less than 80 days until the AP U.S. History test. As usual, I am pretty sure I am more worried about it than them, which is saying a lot because they are actually legitimately worried. But I just want them to DO! SO! WELL! and the weather has definitely set us back a bit--to the tune of almost two weeks. So playing catch up right about now!<br />
<br />
Running has been going amazing. First, I ran a trail half marathon where I goofed around the first 8 miles and ate lots of grilled cheese and M&Ms at the aid station (standard) and it was a blizzard and I took about 804,402 pictures. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhidNPbtNaj1UqCSlmdeedUT_y9xWUrKR59EfOwPCwOhgSr4kpzjRa3sARyv-CzNThUeIFeqtBijY_rA1RXX7HFE_4Cg880hFdyhU1NIPfk6hK6HQ8R7TlXcFLteVh13KCDuvxzog/s1600/DSC_0030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhidNPbtNaj1UqCSlmdeedUT_y9xWUrKR59EfOwPCwOhgSr4kpzjRa3sARyv-CzNThUeIFeqtBijY_rA1RXX7HFE_4Cg880hFdyhU1NIPfk6hK6HQ8R7TlXcFLteVh13KCDuvxzog/s1600/DSC_0030.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was absolutely BEAUTIFUL. We pretty much ran in a snow globe.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6eScXwLAo76SmSQZ7qJQySNRpkvXMbpXQaz2MA5VBkIf8066GBy4JvsurHlIpHGPbFGcc3q8HDYUxOqQtlQCKLbpnPbpxtpBxu-j16lnv9XBln8TyME_V_CryXbJBFv5xfPQauA/s1600/IMG_2390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6eScXwLAo76SmSQZ7qJQySNRpkvXMbpXQaz2MA5VBkIf8066GBy4JvsurHlIpHGPbFGcc3q8HDYUxOqQtlQCKLbpnPbpxtpBxu-j16lnv9XBln8TyME_V_CryXbJBFv5xfPQauA/s1600/IMG_2390.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kim, Lori, Lucia, and I at the start</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuj-DBKL4qRzkRK-JY4BwwO-CYts1doq-tKcbMLbV-UesZjhFUg-3rXJdQQfZ_AtFyyyp-fdc9pasY3weOaGI_y1MkIM6rgq7FIleryDizgfdFOl6utvDWrm3xHKPRWZE7WQS-Kg/s1600/IMG_2392.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuj-DBKL4qRzkRK-JY4BwwO-CYts1doq-tKcbMLbV-UesZjhFUg-3rXJdQQfZ_AtFyyyp-fdc9pasY3weOaGI_y1MkIM6rgq7FIleryDizgfdFOl6utvDWrm3xHKPRWZE7WQS-Kg/s1600/IMG_2392.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A motion selfie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Go3C_z34cB2F8vsuXtE58yc3XH_asFRsU-TuHbjIXqIbsA8MxfanXNr-1VGTYujxQFlINJ10pG7TfyFoAnGJnqmTqzpW6N-orEuJ2p87DDNRHRaG4ixgoMnsQ_1-WhstlStRCA/s1600/IMG_2395.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Go3C_z34cB2F8vsuXtE58yc3XH_asFRsU-TuHbjIXqIbsA8MxfanXNr-1VGTYujxQFlINJ10pG7TfyFoAnGJnqmTqzpW6N-orEuJ2p87DDNRHRaG4ixgoMnsQ_1-WhstlStRCA/s1600/IMG_2395.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another moving selfie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9Otg0-7DjIZvKx4BfbHrZWyGcJx3ttdwF6yLVhQpOWpWV8N4BeqkLV-rnQY8X9svk7MenV2cWG4ZsXuZZaxHdGMc-GbEMONWsdbtbVaciGUScN1cD_yOMBFH38PrCbUyCL9YRA/s1600/IMG_2402.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9Otg0-7DjIZvKx4BfbHrZWyGcJx3ttdwF6yLVhQpOWpWV8N4BeqkLV-rnQY8X9svk7MenV2cWG4ZsXuZZaxHdGMc-GbEMONWsdbtbVaciGUScN1cD_yOMBFH38PrCbUyCL9YRA/s1600/IMG_2402.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lori, the human snowman, eating a delicious grilled cheese</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then, the last 5 miles I dropped the hammer and kicked it. And then, the next day, I thought I was injured! Nooooooooo. The very beginnings of plantar fasciitis, which sucked because it was my fault. I wore my trail shoes which, no joke, still had mud on them from last year's race. So that tells you about how many times I ran trails in the past 12 months, right? And I bombed all the downhills. I mean, HAULED. It was so fun. But I paid for it/am still kind of paying for it, so I am just trying to be really careful.<br />
<br />
Two weeks ago it was actually sunny--yay!--but I was actually almost injured, so I backed off and ran an hour on the local high school track. Super boring, but whatever. Got the job done, felt great, and I kicked ass, so that was good. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-luwIm-UMI-PJjUqhKGWP3cbIGAYde0JrUJaHsq0XLgT1xo1yrZcr7oUCgKmrHPimm51XisuSsKWLe9kBkft8KniB843lPTiI58-dnM1213owR8Pcqu7qe-LlKui5sf6Y9amFNA/s1600/IMG_2408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-luwIm-UMI-PJjUqhKGWP3cbIGAYde0JrUJaHsq0XLgT1xo1yrZcr7oUCgKmrHPimm51XisuSsKWLe9kBkft8KniB843lPTiI58-dnM1213owR8Pcqu7qe-LlKui5sf6Y9amFNA/s1600/IMG_2408.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just me on the track, for like, a REALLY long time</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Katie and Ana are injured--boo--but this has had me running with some newer peeps, who are equally as awesome. Mandie, Amanda, Shannon, Jackie, and Jen have been <strike>crazy enough </strike>nice enough to join me for some killer runs the past two weeks. Last weekend we ran 18 miles and negative split it, and I felt really, really good.<br />
<br />
This weekend we met up again and dealt with a TON of black ice/sleet (PLEASE WINTER. GO HOME.) and snow in our faces, but we did this:<br />
<br />
12 miles at an average of around 8:55 (pretty awesome considering the sleet and black ice had us literally ice skating in parts)<br />
<br />
Then, it went like this:<br />
<br />
Mile 13 8:05<br />
Mile 14 7:51<br />
Mile 15 7:45<br />
Mile 16 7:38<br />
Mile 16.01 = felt a little pukey.<br />
<br />
That workout was <a href="http://trisaratopsimadventure.blogspot.com/2013/09/working-for-it.html">similar to one I did in the buildup for Columbus</a>. Back then, it literally made me cry. This time? I SLAUGHTERED IT. It was amazing. I felt like I could move mountains.<br />
<br />
We finished out miles 16-20.67 (yes, an extra 0.67 DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED WE WERE ALL SO MAD) at an average of around 8:55 again, which is pretty impressive considering we were basically running like grannies during mile 17. Average for 20.67 miles = 8:43/mile.<br />
<br />
So you know what? Provided I do not get injured, I'm feeling like I can call my shot here for Athens. <br />
People, <i>I think I just might <u>do</u> this thing. </i><br />
<br />
So I'm going to hang on for this crazy ride for the next 4 weeks. I'm sure I'll have a rotten run here soon just to put me in my place, which is a good thing. All marathoners need to be reminded every once in a while that we are not invincible.<br />
<br />
But right now? It feels good to know that I'm running stronger than I ever have in my entire life. Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19402707.post-32182866934751372112014-02-07T09:26:00.001-05:002014-02-07T09:26:14.746-05:00Passing You a NoteAlright, so it's no secret I've been a bad blogger lately. One post a month?! Sheesh. I used to post on this thing daily. Even when Bug was little, I could still make it every few days. And I know that the world has largely moved on to 140 characters world, but just because that's true doesn't mean I have to abandon the old way. <br />
<br />
It can be like when I tell my students about the GOOD OLD DAYS when if you wanted to send a message to a friend during class you had to do it like with ACTUAL PEN AND PAPER and then fold it up and somehow LITERALLY send it across the room before your teacher noticed. OMG the HORROR. <br />
<br />
And now? This is what I deal with. DAILY.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaw7UKoUdfuXrPiCBYaS30vpIamj2W7ywjrggYwgikhalSVRbt5dDLTdccTUCltxu3mbE7M84wajGeXu1Ga1Q5qGJLgAmRaa73coeUGlPxhmLRCEqulDYCD1O4-65zUvt7oCkxsA/s1600/simpsons-mobiles-in-classroom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaw7UKoUdfuXrPiCBYaS30vpIamj2W7ywjrggYwgikhalSVRbt5dDLTdccTUCltxu3mbE7M84wajGeXu1Ga1Q5qGJLgAmRaa73coeUGlPxhmLRCEqulDYCD1O4-65zUvt7oCkxsA/s1600/simpsons-mobiles-in-classroom.gif" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But we need them for safety! says every parent in America</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So I'm going to try and be better about recording the little steps and the little things here, because I'm reminded of how cool it is to look back at the unfolding story much, much later.<br />
<br />
So first of all, I did the <a href="http://www.whole9life.com/">Whole30</a> from December 28-January 28. Starting before New Year's Eve/Day was a special kind of torture normally reserved for inmates at Guantanamo, but it definitely taught me a LOT about my food habits and how I eat. For instance, I realized I am addicted to ALL nut butters, and not just peanut butter! I'm an equal-opportunity nut-butter addict. But another thing I realized is just how GOOD I feel when I eat cleanly. And I was eating entirely too many "junk" carbs--stupid crackers, stupid cheerios, stupid things that aren't even good but I'm hungry now so gimme a handful. That kind of stuff. I mean, it's NOT even good. Why am I eating it?<br />
<br />
All in all, when it was over, I hit 139.5 pounds for the first time since seriously 7th grade. I got MUCH leaner and you could definitely tell, especially in my middle. I have before and after pictures but I'm not going to post them here because, ew, people, do you remember what I do for a living? That's the last thing I need my students and their smartphones to see. But it's safe to say it was a BIG difference. Now, my challenge is to continue to eat cleanly (but HELLO SUGAR! Oh how I've missed you) and still be able to fuel my long runs and workouts. I am trying to stay as dairy/legume free as I can and limit the sugar to GOOD sugar (like, make sure it's tasty enough to actually be worth it). I need to be good about incorporating good, quality carbs. Not the handfuls of generic wheat thins nonsense. So I recently got this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-rhUi6RSkIj5Tm7Hw6TagMn7R5EqEYFO2sqVZG2HoLJ7XoeFOSHq0EdJS3dK9IUlxOgss2VUBQONE4T5q1EEOzmNH_nHcqu-hp8jllB9koPpdsP5o-HLeufmMrH23NT2DDEh5Rw/s1600/racing-weight-cookbook-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-rhUi6RSkIj5Tm7Hw6TagMn7R5EqEYFO2sqVZG2HoLJ7XoeFOSHq0EdJS3dK9IUlxOgss2VUBQONE4T5q1EEOzmNH_nHcqu-hp8jllB9koPpdsP5o-HLeufmMrH23NT2DDEh5Rw/s1600/racing-weight-cookbook-2.jpg" height="320" width="262" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
And I will give it a good review and let you know what I think!<br />
<br />
So over the past 5 weeks or so, I’ve been stuck in this whole Polar Vortex Nonsense that Mother Nature has decided to throw at the East/Midwest clearly since I said OUT LOUD that I was going to do the Athens Marathon on 4/13. Thanks a lot, Mother Nature. So needless to say, training has been a bit tough. It’s been me, alone, in my basement for WAYYYY more miles than I’d like. I still have my crew of girls but the ice has made things difficult. We’re not afraid of cold or snow, but we are hesitant to mess with this ice as I had a running friend slip a few weeks ago and tear her patella tendon. 12 weeks on her back, friends. I can’t mess with that. And poor Ana is injured, too, which really blows. At least she’s not missing great running weather, but I feel for her since I’ve been there and I know how frustrating it is!<br />
<br />
Coach Emily has been great about sending me tough treadmill workouts and I do always follow the 1% rule even though the girls at Salty Running have said it’s not necessary. I dunno, I still feel like it works for me, so I’m going with it for now. This weekend I have 14 on tap with some speedwork thrown in, and it will be...on the treadmill. So if you have any good podcast suggestions or Pandora stations, please please PLEASE SEND THEM TO ME AGGGGGHHHH 14milesonatreadmill. But you gotta do what you gotta do.<br />
<br />
At the end of the day, everything I am doing: what I’m putting into my body, what I’m doing on the treadmill, trainer, road, and pool...I’m trying to remember that it will help me get this goal. It’s within reach now, and missing it by a minute has, if anything, made me even more determined than I was before. So follow along if you want to see how this all ends.<br />
<br />
Besides, everyone loves a good underdog story, right?Trisaratopshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516116052466206839noreply@blogger.com5