Transitions, Part 2

"And when you're in a Slump, you're not in for much fun. Un-slumping yourself is not easily done." --Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You'll Go!

I started doing triathlons ten years ago almost to the day, with a good friend on a borrowed bike and following a computer-generated training plan. And I crossed that finish line, darn close to last. And loved every second of it.

And it made me want more.

And by more, I felt instinctively that this meant more MILES. Longer, longer, longer. Longer was better. Longer got all the glory. Longer got the NBC broadcast, right?

So that's what I did.

I set my sights on the long stuff in 2005. I completed my first half ironman the day before I signed up for my first Ironman. Because that's what you do. That's the natural progression of things, or at least that was how it seemed to me.

I kept up the long stuff and completed more half ironmans. Most were better; one was worse. All taught me a lot about what I am capable of and a fire that I have in here that hadn't been lit in a while.

I kept going long. And I did like it. But life started to change, yet my training did not. And for a while it was fun. It was exciting to me to prove to myself that I could still do the long stuff. I could still ride 3 to 4 hours, sneak it in during naptime, get up early and swim, and run on the treadmill while someone slept in the swing. For a while, that was exciting.

"You can get so confused that you'll start in to race down long-wiggled roads at a break-necking pace, and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space..."--Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You'll Go!

And then, after last summer, it wasn't fun. It became a chore. I dreaded the rides. I didn't feel like running. And swimming was something that I had a rough time fitting in because I knew it was 6am or nothing, and 6am is really tough when you have two children under 3 and one of them being just a few months old.

What motivated me, as the summer went on, was that I needed to make it worth it. Worth all the lost sleep, worth all the time on my bike when I could have been at home. That lit a fire in me, too, and I made it worth it to say the least. Shattering my PR by 16 minutes while still carrying around almost that many pounds is still something I'm extremely proud of. And it reminded me that 5:44 is still not my best. That there is something much faster than that in here, without a doubt.

But I was burned out.

I should have learned my lesson. I should have remembered all of this when I signed up for the marathon in May and set such a high goal. I did think about it when I got so sick last March, but the fire in there wouldn't let me quit. I had to at least try. And I still don't regret what I did.

But I realized more than ever after crossing the line in Cleveland that something had to change. I was trying to train and race the same way I did in 2005. And life in 2011 is completely different than it was in 2005.

I needed to adapt. To still feed that fire in me, but to adapt to the new reality of my wants and dreams. And my wants and dreams increasingly do not involve sitting on my bike for 3 or 4 hours. Because I've done that. I've done that, and I've done it well, and learned a lot and grown and succeeded.

I needed a change.

"It's okay to rest....but in the modern world, that's just not a popular idea. Outside of sport, in business, people boast about getting only two hours of sleep and still going into work. They're stressed, they're not sleeping, and they wonder why they feel like hell all the time. It's like the less you sleep, the more hardcore you are. Translate that to the triathlete world and it's 'Look at me, I ran twenty kilometers yesterday after riding for six hours.'"--Chris McCormack, I'm Here To Win

Instead of feeling pride after a ride or run, I felt almost inadequate. That no matter what I did, most of my training partners were doing double it. I couldn't keep up. And if I couldn't keep up with the volume, well, then, I must be worthless, right? I must not be cut out for this. Maybe I've outgrown triathlon.

"That's the monster that is human nature. We train to look good to other people, to look good to ourselves, to justify the cost of a coach, or as some sort of inoculation against the fear that we won't have what it takes on race day. But we rarely train for the only reason that matters: to be the best we can be in body and mind, and deliver our finest possible performance on race day, regardless of result."--Chris McCormack, I'm Here To Win

But this summer has shown me something. I have had so much fun.

SO much fun.

I can't remember having this much fun training or racing. It hasn't been a burden or a chore. It's been a release, an outlet, a social hour. It's pushed me beyond my comfort zone time and time again. It's left me crossing the finish line in a heap, ready to puke. It's made me ask, "Okay...is there another gear in here?" since the races are short enough that you have to--you have to push harder than is comfortable.

And I was totally comfortable with the attitude that I've held the past 6 seasons: that "I'm not very fast," that "I'm no good at sprints." I just thought if I wanted to succeed in triathlon, I needed to do what I was getting better at: 70.3s.

But I wasn't enjoying them. So maybe I'd do these shorter ones and even if I was horrible, it would fit into life better.

"One key to training this way is to attach no guilt to it. You have to let go of the numbers. Stop counting how many miles you did at the end of the week! You have to train yourself to be confident that you are doing enough and stop overtraining as a security blanket."--Chris McCormack, I'm Here to Win

The funny thing? I'm actually not horrible. Three races can't be a fluke. Yesterday I won my age group and finished 5th overall, once again shocking the hell out of myself. Even in a large and talented field at Lifetime, where I felt pretty rotten and like I wasn't ready and had a pretty horrible run, I still finished near the top third.

And I feel like yesterday has really forced me to turn a corner here and transition into something different. I want to keep this fun going. I love the fire in me when I'm chasing someone down. I love the feeling when I'm red-lining. It's something new and exciting, and it may not be as glamourous as Ironman, but it sure is a lot more fun for me right now.

Next season will be more of this. It will start with a super fast half marathon in May. And then it will be as many sprints and Olympics as I can pack into a summer, depending upon what works for my family. Because nothing beats racing close to home with my kids at the finish line. Nothing. Instead of spending hours on my bike every weekend, I'm going to spend a few hours racing like I stole something. I'm going to hit the track hard. I'm going to hit the pool hard. I'm going to continue to get stronger as a cyclist and mix up longer stuff with intervals. I'm going to continue to lift and get stronger.

I'm transitioning. And I'm ready.

10 Years

Right about now is the 10th anniversary of my first triathlon.

So that's kind of what makes tomorrow so cool.

At 24, I had just moved back up to the NEO. I had decided that law school would not be for me, and that despite the beatings that teaching tends to give you (especially as a young female teacher in a high school setting), I was in it for the long haul.

A nice little Saturday at 24 included happy hour, lots of pizza, dollar drafts, and staying out with my friends having a wild rumpus until approximately 2:00am, chasing the evening with bagel bites.

(Needless to say, I had some junk in my trunk.)

That summer, my girl TriShannon and I decided we were going to make some changes. She was going to leave a job that was secure but not fulfilling, and I was going to do a few daring things myself. We both signed up for our first sprint triathlon and trained diligently on a plan we found on Beginnertriathlete.com. And by diligently, I mean we rode mountain bikes. And sometimes had DQ Blizzards after our "grueling" 15-20 mile rides.

What became a lofty goal quickly changed into a lifestyle. We finished the race that day, despite the rain. Despite running into a buoy with my head and almost losing my goggles. Despite the doubts and fears.

I felt like I could do anything after that.

So I did.

Two weeks later, I took what I now refer to as The Most Important Road Trip of My Life--something I had been meaning to do for years. I finally let go. I signed up for Weight Watchers, cleaned up my act, and lost 35 pounds. And 6 weeks after my first triathlon I got up the courage to tell Matt how I really felt.

(Okay, so that one did require a little liquid courage. But the end justified the means, people)

Then came a marathon. And Pedal to the Point. And my wedding. And then all doubt was shot since I knew the answer to, "Can I do an Ironman?" after I did those things. I had the base, I had the desire, and I had the support, which is all you really need. So then came my Wisconsin Year.

A few more blinks later came my little Bug, and finally my little Bean. And here we all are, 10 years later, I-don't-know-how-many-races-later, and still a few DQ Blizzards later.

So tomorrow's race will most likely be in a choppy lake, as we've had some big time storms roll through. It will be hot, it will be humid. If I do it well, it will be a suffer fest where I end gasping for air and doubled-over, since that's the best way to do a sprint, right? I never do these sprints, so this should be interesting. But for me, I'm thinking it will be more like a celebration of the past 10 years and what that simple little local triathlon race did for me.

It brought me courage. Friendship. Health. The ability to really, finally, believe in myself.

And I kind of wish I could go back 10 summers and see that 24 year old girl and tell her, yes, you can do this. You can do everything you want to do. Sometimes it will be hard and you'll fall flat on your face and have a choppy lake and humidity that will suck and headwinds both ways. But that life you always wanted to have? The happiness, the health, the two children? It's even better than you can imagine.

And it's just down that road. So put your goggles on and rack that borrowed bike.

It's time to go.

"How do you do this?"

I put a countdown on my board for my kids this week.

13 CLASS WEEKS UNTIL THE AP TEST AND 6 UNITS TO GO

(On a side note, I also taught about Roosevelt's "Big Stick" diplomacy to 3 classes of 16 year olds. Thank you for your pity. I can still hear the Beavis and Butthead-style chuckles....huh huh....she said carry a big stick...huh huh)

Underneath that, I wrote, 14 WEEKS UNTIL MRS. Z'S TEST. I figured they'd might as well know that I also have something big and intimidating looming in the distance. Something that right about now makes me go, "WHY did I do this to myself?" Kinda like what they are all starting to think, too.

I get asked "why" I do this stuff a lot. To me, it's like asking why I blink my eyeballs every few seconds. It's not a question of why I'm a teacher. A mother. A triathlete. It's just part of me. I wouldn't be me without these things.

But you know what? Sometimes it's not easy.

Actually, lots of times.

Okay. The truth. Pretty much all the time.

I find myself often saying, "How do I do this?"

How will I do this?

How am I going to keep this up until May? And remain sane?

Is it really possible to be a mother, wife, friend, teacher, AND athlete--all at the same time?

Sometimes other people ask me how I do all these things. And the short answer is, I don't really know. Day by day, I guess you could say. There is no secret. There is no recipe. You make it work the best you can. Sometimes, I cry. And sometimes, I cheat like crazy. By cheat, I mean I use meal-assembly places for dinner even though I love to cook and am damn good at it, if I do say so myself. It buys me a few extra minutes to play Buzz Lightyear with Bug. I have a lot of help from my family--I'm lucky to have pretty much one of the most generous and helpful husbands in the universe. He'll "sense" laundry and do it. He'll see that I really need to get a long run in and take control of the fort so I can skip out for a bit. You either make peace with the fact that housework will not get done, or you get some help. I realized that workouts will be less about socializing and more about getting to know myself. And I further appreciate how wonderful it is to have good friends to swimbikerun with--when I had all the time in the world I don't think I realized just how important that is. Now I make an effort to do one "social workout" a week, even though it's pretty hard to schedule. Lately it's been one every-other week and might have to go longer as work is going to pick up. But I know they are out there, and they'll be there, ready to ride and run with me when I can.

This has been a true exercise in letting the small stuff go. That's never been easy for me. I'm getting there, but it's definitely a work in progress.

Bottom line: this is very difficult and often overwhelming. But I love it. I love every second of every part of it, as much as it frustrates me from time to time and as much as I often question whether or not I'm good enough at any of it.

I love watching my students right about this time of the year, when they realize that there's no turning back--it's time to put the proverbial mental miles in, or pay the consequences. And most of them choose to put the miles in. It means extra hours for me after school, but I honestly don't mind. Watching them do what they need to do over the next three months is why I got into this line of work, anyway.

I love watching Bean taking her first steps. When we get home from work, I change as quickly as I can into my PJ pants and we all head downstairs. Bug makes me "dinner" with his kitchen and all the "food" we got him for Christmas, and Bean and I practice walking. Sometimes her little feet go too fast for her body and she spins out of control and starts to fall, face first. But I'm there to catch her. And she always giggles when she falls forward. She can't wait to get back up.

(I know that feeling all too well. Sometimes my feet just can't keep up with everywhere I want to go, either.)

Watching her giggle when she falls reminds me that falling means you are making progress.

Falling means you're going somewhere.

This is one crazy, simply amazing, simply exhausting journey I'm on. I'm not sure if I'm doing this right. I don't know if any of us really ever do.

All I can do is hold on, hope my feet catch up to the rest of me, and keep going.

Year in Review and 2011: Back to the ROOTS.

Looking back, I had a tremendous year filled with more joy than I could have imagined. During this past year, I watched my mother-in-law smack stage 4 cancer upside the head, brought Emery into the world, and watched Jackson become a big brother. It really doesn't get any better than that.

In racing news, I got to cheer on runners at the Cleveland Marathon at Mile 10 with my homey, TriEric. We dressed up like Bert and Ernie, danced like fools, and caused lots of shenanigans. It was pretty much awesome. I knew I wasn't ready to race the half, and figured I'd give back to the runners and help make the race memorable. Little did I know I'd laugh so hard my cheeks would hurt by the time I was done! And by cheeks, I mean both sets--front and back. Booty shakin' and fist pumping in an Ernie suit ain't easy, folks.

IMMEDIATELY go to Eric's blog and read his year report--you will find a video of us dancing like fools. When else will you be able to see Bert do the robot and Ernie do a sweet Michael Jackson dance?

I headed out to WIBA with all my teammies and other assorted awesome tri-peeps and rode the hills of Wisconsin yet again. And each time I do, it always leaves me with one thought: how the FREAK SHOW did I ever do this Ironman? And it always serves as another little reminder that our will is much stronger than we think. And so are our bodies.

Which reminds me of quite possibly my proudest accomplishment in my about-to-be-ten year triathlon "career." The day I went ahead and did something even I thought was nuts (and that's saying a lot). Even I thought I was in way over my head (again, considering the source, that's quite impressive). And that was to race a half-ironman distance triathlon 6 months after giving birth to Emery. The craziest thing is that I raced it pretty well. I knocked off 16 minutes from my previous best time and, best of all, got to share it with my team again and my amazingly supportive family.

So, this season is my 10th. And I swore I would not do a half-ironman distance race this year, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that now I kinda wonder what I could do, since I'm about 15 pounds down from Rev3 and feel like 5:44 isn't even close to what I'm truly capable of. Who saw that coming? Show of hands?

But NO. I said NO long course this year, and I am sticking to that. In honor of my 10th season of triathlons, I'm going to go back to my roots. That being the oddest combination ever: marathons and sprints/olympic distance triathlons. I know. Since when is marathon training considered a break in your workout load? But the fact of the matter is that for me, marathon training is definitely harder on your body, but not as many net hours as long course triathlon training.

And that, my friends, is how Ironman warps your mind.

My first triathlon back in '01 was what started everything. I did that sprint, on a borrowed bike and completely clueless, and then immediately signed up for the Cleveland Marathon. (?!) Not because I was a strong runner, but because that's what triathlon does to you. It starts to make you think you can do just about anything.

So this year, here's how it will all play out according to my master plan. I'm aiming high here. VERY high. Go hard or go home is the theme of 2011. It's time to get back to my roots.

St. Malachi 5 Miler: No date yet, but it's mid-March. Goal here is to go hard and hurt at the end. If I finish and almost hurl, it's been a good race.

Spring Classic Half Marathon: No date on this yet, but it'll be mid-April. My goal is to go as close to 1:40 as I can. That will also hurt. Bring it.

Hermes Cleveland Ten Miler: No date on this, but it'll be a week or two after the Spring Classic. This I'll probably use as pacing practice for the marathon.

Cleveland Marathon: May 15, 2011. Boston or Bust. That is a 3:40 for me.

Lifetime Fitness Triathlon: July 9, Minneapolis, Minnesota. Two goals for this one: have a blast with my teammates, and hammer this as hard as I can. I don't believe I've gone under 2:40 for an olympic distance, so definitely under that. My pie-in-the-sky goal is 2:30.

I also earned two FREE races through a great local race company, NCN. One was because I got injured and couldn't race last year, and the other was because I volunteered which earns me a free race entry! So I'll be cashing those in: possibly at the Huntington Sprint triathlon and the Lorain Olympic.

I also plan on working with my EvoKids again this summer and am working on some ways to make my program even better.

Dances With Dirt: September 24, Hell, Michigan. Words cannot express how FREAKING EXCITED I AM to do this race with some super awesome ladies! I am so pumped that a spot on their team opened up and I can join in this crazy fun relay trail race!

(I'm leaving the possibility open for a fall marathon, but I don't want to need it.)

I'm not sure much can top this past year. But I'm going to try. As you can see, I have big, crazy dreams for 2011. Here's to making my 10th year in this sport the best yet.

Happy New Year, everyone!

On SM Chemistry

I was really lucky to grow up where I did. I know that most of my teachers were good educators. Some were more memorable than others, though...and it's funny that my most memorable teachers were in the subjects that I had the hardest time with: math and science. Not that I wasn't good at them...on paper, I was. But it just took me WAY longer to "get it." And I was lucky enough to have teachers in those subjects who were understanding...who would meet me every morning at 7:15am to go over Pre-Calculus...and who would walk me through stoichiometry even though they had already explained it to me thirty-three THOUSAND times.

I've written before about my SM Physics class. "SM" stood for "Science Major." Or, as we liked to call it, "SO MUCH." As in, SO MUCH FREAKING CHEMISTRY. I had no business taking any SM class in high school. There was no way in hell I was going to be a science major, and by age 15 I knew that already. I knew it would be harder and I knew that if I worked at it, I could do it, and I was raised to never settle for something easy when you know you can do the harder one. So SM Chemistry it was.

Mr. Ule was one of those teachers who you could just tell loved coming to work every day. Even at 15, you know the ones who are just there for the paycheck, who are just buying the time until retirement, or who are there because there wasn't really anything else they found and they thought, well, I might as well teach. But he wasn't one of those. This guy loved his job, and he loved his students. And it made a class that was very difficult for me really, really enjoyable. I had to work--hard, by the way. I had to really earn that grade big time. And it definitely messed up my GPA a bit as it wasn't a weighted class or anything, but I just felt like it would be a better thing for me to do. I could do it--I had the ability, so to settle for anything lower seemed like cheating.

Some of my best memories were in that class.

To me, the best educators aren't necessarily the ones who are all buddy-buddy with their students, or who are mind-numbingly easy, or, on the flip side, pride themselves in being so hard and difficult and untouchable. I always felt like my best teachers were the ones who walked that fine line between caring so much for me and for the class and for the subject, but absolutely refusing to back down when it was time to challenge me.

(Even if that meant frustrating me once in a while.)

Because that's how guys like Mr. Ule did it. He guided, he cared so much, but he rose that bar just high enough that I really, really had to jump up high to get it. Even if it meant coming in early. Staying late. Reviewing over and over again.

I've long since moved on. There was and never will be any "science major" for me. I entered the same career as him--one full of challenges every day. I try now to be the best teacher I can, and walk that line that I believe makes you a great one--one that stands above all the rest. I know I have a long way to go. I hope someday I'm half as good of a teacher as Mr. Ule was to me: a student who had no business being in his "Science Major" class, but ended up loving it and growing from it.

And I can't help that think that teachers like him are partially the reason why I love endurance sports so much. Let me be clear: I'm no natural athlete. I have to really work hard at this. And as much as it frustrates me from time to time, I know that's why I love it. I credit him for developing me into a person who loves a challenge...who thrives on challenge. A life without challenges to me is just not a life, period.

It's ironic that on a day we were getting such great news about our family's battle with cancer, Mr. Ule was losing his. His family was getting ready to say goodbye. And when I heard the news today, I cried--not just because of his passing, but because I never really got to tell him how much this non-science major got from his class...and from him.

Thanks, Mr. Ule.

And in a week from today

...it will all be done.

Whatever the results may be.

And that's kind of exciting. Scary, but exciting, too.

It's been one of those whirlwind weekends. Something awful happened Friday. Something that is really your worst fear come true...something that makes you stop and realize how little you have in your control when you kiss your loved ones goodbye in the morning. Something that makes you stop and think that sometimes you almost don't have time for that kiss. And how you'd just never be able to live with yourself if Friday was that day for you.

I spent part of Friday evening in a place no one wants to be in--the Emergency Room, with a few other friends and quite a few tears. I spent Friday night thinking, what would I do if it was just me alone in this bed? Would I be able to handle that?

Somehow we have to, sometimes.

So this week, my race has been pushed to the back burner. And, the more I think about it, I remember that I do best when I push it back there. I am, first and foremost, a mother, wife, sister, daughter, and friend. I'm no professional athlete. I get to race in Columbus next Sunday morning and have that moment--where I have to wait in line for the port-o-potty, hands shaking, yawning like I always do when I'm nervous--because I am lucky enough to have that moment.

That morning.

After Friday, I woke up and drove to West Virginia with Matt and friends from my childhood-- most of whom I am lucky enough to still call my friends today. And I focused on the happy thoughts, because I had to--that one of my bestest guy friends since kindergarten found such an awesome girl. I danced with a ridiculous hot pink feather boa around my neck. I kicked my shoes off because they made my feet hurt, and danced to Baby Got Back like I was pretty much in the video. I did the best I could to live that evening like the gift that it was.

There is suffering and joy in all of our lives. I'm very blessed that most of mine is pure, sheer joy.

And with that, I look forward to the finish line next Sunday morning.

Partyin' Like it's 1912

The AP test is this Friday, so I doubt I'll have time to post this week...or do much of anything. I will be lucky to squeeze in my workouts here and there.

Not surprisingly, I tend to look to the past for inspiration. My students are freaking out on me as they approach their "race day." I try to tell them that if they've been doing what they should have all year, they will be more than fine on Friday. Cramming for the AP test 4 days prios makes about as much sense as squeezing in a 20-miler four days before your marathon.

I'm making them little notes with Smarties attached that have one of my all-time favorite quotes on it. Exhibit A:

"The credit belongs to those who are actually in the arena, who strive valiantly; who know the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spend themselves in a worthy cause; who at best, know the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, if they fail, fail while they are daring greatly, so that their place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat." --T. Roosevelt

For many of them, the cards have been stacked against them as they deal with serious issues outside of school. I want them to know how proud I am of them for making it to test day--regardless of what happens. They have grown tremendously and I consider myself lucky to witness this.

Sometimes, getting to the starting line is overlooked. Often, getting to the starting line is a task in and of itself for many reasons, and one that should be celebrated. Sure, there are standards of "success," whether it's a 5 on the AP test from the College Board or a sub-10 hour Ironman. But, ultimately, I want them to understand that success must be defined within. Your goals and dreams may be up for discussion, but they are not up for negotiation. Ever.

For me, the goal is the journey. I am so grateful to be able to stand at a starting line in less than two weeks, and with one of my best friends there, too. Sure, I could have done more over the past seven months to prepare for one standard of success--time. But at what cost? At one that, at this point in my life, I'm just not willing nor have any desire to make.

I am very nervous and excited to enjoy the day and share it with friends. For me, that will make my race day a success.

Have a wonderful week everyone--see you after I get my life back on Friday!

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

"I am fearfully and wonderfully made." --Psalm 139:14

This was the verse that the sermon focused on today, the day we baptized our son. I haven't been to church since he's been born--something I'm not really proud of. I've been praying a lot--a LOT--don't get me wrong, but I haven't actually been to a service until today.

And that was the verse that the sermon focused on.

That was also the verse that I had typed small and taped in my bento box during Ironman. Because it reminds me that I'm stronger than I think, because that's how I've been made.

Interesting, no?

I'm continuing to be amazed by what my body's been doing. Yesterday, I ran a very hard, hilly 10 miles out at Hinckley with some of my Soler buds. It was hard, and it kicked my butt, and I loved it. We negative split it a bit, which is saying a lot for that loop. The last time I ran that loop was August of '06 with IronJohnny as we prepared for IMW.

It felt good to be back.

But cold. It was about 14 degrees when we started. (That's cold for here...I know it's balmy for some of my other blog friends) It was so cold the first mile that I could barely feel my hands except for the stinging.

Today?

Sunny, 51 degrees, and not a cloud in the sky this afternoon. I ran in shorts. A little windy, though. My Ironman hat flew off and almost landed in a creek. I saved it, of course.

My running is coming along really, really strong. Surprisingly strong, for me. I'm very excited to see what I can do this year.

It's pretty amazing what these bodies can do, you know?

Six Week Smiles

Monday I got a smile.

A real smile.

Not an "I just pooped" smile.

And it was amazing. And I just knew it would be a good day.

I went to the Doctor's for my six week checkup. Got all checked out, and passed with flying colors. I bombarded her with questions, just so I wouldn't get "yelled" at for doing anything wrong, like I did after 4 weeks.

"Can I run?"

Yes.

"Can I swim?"

Yes.

"Can I lift weights?"

Yes.

"Can I do core work?"

YES ALREADY.

"Can I leap tall buildings in a single bound?"

Okay, maybe I didn't go THAT far.

So of course, you know what I did that night. I hit my treadmill.

I was pretty nervous. I mean, I've heard all kinds of horror stories about the first run. How bad it's going to suck. That you will piss all over yourself. I laced up my shoes which hadn't been laced for this purpose for a looooooooong time. I stood on it for an extra minute or two, and was a little afraid to push the button.

My intentions were to walk four minutes and run two at a slow pace. For 30 minutes. If I could.

Deep breath.

Beep.

I started...and then it was four minutes in. And time to run again.

So I did.

And it. was. awesome.

There was no pee. There was no suckage. It was slow, of course, but it felt so good. I felt like I was seeing an old friend again. I made it the 30 minutes with my plan, feeling GREAT.

See? I knew it would be a good day.

Lots of stretching later, I took a shower and gave the little guy a bath. A different post-workout routine, but one I'll be getting used to as my roles are shifting.

The next day, I decided to try a swim. Again, a little nervous. I hadn't been in the pool since September, and at that point, I was in a whale-like state. Would I be able to get through the workout I wanted to?

Warmup: 200 swim, 100 kick, 200 pull

4X50s with :25 rest (drill/swim)

100 kick

4X100 with :25 rest

300 CD

1500 yards

A short workout, but one with some purpose to it. What would my 100s look like? I had no idea and feared the worst.

You know what? They weren't too bad. They were, without too much effort, about 10-15 seconds off where they are when I'm in peak shape. That's a lot in swimming time, I know...but 10 seconds was less than I thought it would be. So I've got that going for me.

Which is nice.

Today, another run. I started off with 3 minutes of walking, then 3 of running. Then two of walking, and four of running.

So far, so good.

Two more of walking, and five of running.

Still good.

Two more of walking, and six of running.

Three walking to cool down.

I've never had so much fun running so slow and taking walk breaks. JayZ slept in his bouncy seat the whole time. I think he knew how much it would mean to me to get this little run in.

As I was running, I was listening to the new Foo Fighters...highly recommended, by the way. The first track particularly struck a chord.

What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays
You're the pretender
What if I say I will never surrender?

It's amazing how much I got done this morning. I fed, I burped, I changed, I pumped, I ate, I drank, I changed, I ran, I stretched, I showered, I cleaned, I fed, I snuggled.

All before 11am.

It's possible, I think, to pull this off somehow. I'm learning as I go, and I'm sure it's not going to be easy.

But that smile. You don't even understand...I can't even begin to explain...that smile, that smile that will make me do anything to protect him. That's what it's all about now.

The rest is just icing on the cake.

So, I'm back. But I'm definitely not the same...not just physically, either, but that's painfully obvious. I've been permanently changed and am changing more every day.

But I can still run.

And I can still swim.

And now I can do those things and get a smile.

Motion

How do you avoid triathlon burnout?

Get knocked up.

(Seriously.)

I think this is great advice. I was thinking about it the other day, and I really haven't stopped moving in a while. 2004 saw a bunch of triathlons, a Masters degree, and a marriage. 2005 brought me another marathon, some olympic and sprint tris, and my first half ironman. 2006 brought me another half ironman, 2 half marathons, a few shorter tris, and an Ironman. I did a half marathon in late November, 2006.

I didn't stop.

Until February rolled around. When my body gave me the proverbial middle finger and sort of FORCED me to stop.

I kicked and screamed. I tried to keep going...and mostly failed. I slept. A lot. In short, I really didn't know what to do with myself. If I'm not moving, then who am I?

I think that's a good question for all triathletes out there to ask themselves.

Because this thing can be taken away from you at a moment's notice. And not always for good, exciting reasons.

You really, really need to know who you are when you're not moving.

I'm getting to know her...and maybe starting to like her a bit. I'm realizing how much of a dreamer she is--that she can't stop thinking about the future. She thinks about school...will she really be able to handle an AP class and a bunch of honors kids? She hasn't really had the honors kids...ever. Far from it. Especially not with a new (or at least MUCH more detailed) subject and when 9 months pregnant.

Then, she remembers...yeah. Cum laude, Miami University. Armonk Scholar. James Madison Scholar. 3.9 GPA in MA program.

She can do it somehow. She'll make it work.

She thinks about the fall. How the room that used to be an office is now starting to fill up with blue, yellow, and green things. How she can't deny what's about to happen when she feels a strong kick to the rib cage. How sometimes it's all so overwhelming it brings tears of frustration to her eyes...this thing is so much bigger than anything she's ever done. It's so damn scary.

But she's never let herself down before. She remembers that...at mile 5 of the bike course last year, she knew if she was going to make it that day she was going to have to adapt to the situation and throw all prior goals out the window. It was going to be all about surviving.

So she knows she'll somehow do that, too.

She dreams about next year. Of how happy she'll be to get on her bike for the first time, after watching so many rain-less, brisk mornings go by this summer. Of how she can't wait to run...to really, really run again. To do a track workout. To gasp for air again. To see a "7" on her watch--at the front--after running a mile. To feel her heart pounding.

Of how good it will feel to be at a starting line next year.

Any starting line. And how good it will feel to finish.

But for now, she's forcing herself to be in the present, because she has to. The kicks remind her. Snap out of it. Think about now.

She's packed away all her trophies and age group awards, and really wasn't sad to see them move to the attic after mostly gathering dust in the old office. She's starting to realize that's not what this is really about. That she'll never, ever be in the top 3 at an Ironman, a marathon, or for that matter, probably at a half-ironman. But she knows that those races are where she needs to be.

She's getting as ready as she can...because you never will be ready. You can wait your whole life to be "ready," and still not be there. She's figured that part out, at least.

But sooner or later, she knows she's going to have to trust herself and her abilities.

And that's who I am when I am not moving.

Studying Abroad

I had a little realization yesterday.

As tri season is in full-swing for the first time since 2001 without me, I feel like I'm missing out. I worry that I'm doing nothing but getting fatter and slower, as my friends are all getting fitter and faster. This is pretty silly, and I am fully aware of that. My tragic flaw is worrying to the point of irrationality. I'm working on it. It's quite a work in progress.

So yesterday, as I was feeling pretty low after friends/coworkers little observations about (brace yourself, here) how I DON'T look like I did during Ironman training (I know...no SHIZ Sherlock), for some reason I remembered back in high school how my friend at the time, Joy, was going to spend her junior year as an AFS student in France and how I couldn't possibly wrap my head around it.

But, she's going to MISS SO MUCH! Like, FOOTBALL GAMES! And, GOING TO FRIENDLY'S AFTER FOOTBALL GAMES! And, like, the big yearly BAND CONCERT! I mean, how will she LIVE knowing she didn't get to go to HOMECOMING? Why on EARTH would you want to miss all THAT and spend a year in PARIS? What about SWIM SEASON?! And, like, AP ENGLISH?! How could you want to be ANYWHERE BUT HERE?????

Yeah. Pretty ridiculous.

Let's see....France, or small-town Ohio?

To 16 year old me I couldn't POSSIBLY GRASP anything but small-town Ohio. That was my little world I had created for myself, and that was all I knew.

This is a good thing that I'm being forced to study abroad this year. I've gotten a few books and have been reading about how I can fine-tune things: my bike, my nutrition, etc. I've been forced to step back and have fought it kicking and screaming the whole way. Workouts are getting shorter. Stomach is getting bigger. Kicks are getting stronger.

I'm being forced to live in the moment. Not thinking about this week's plans, or this month's goals, or hours on this or that.

This, to me, is a foreign country.

I'm sure that I'll look back on this I'll laugh, just like I do when I tell the story of how I thought Joy was absolutely insane for leaving my little world for 9 months. It all seems so silly now. High school didn't go anywhere, but she had an amazing experience. Neither are these races.

When you're at minute 32 of a 7 mile ride, you can't start thinking about all your insecurities and worries. You just keep spinning. If you worry too much, you waste energy. And that's DUMB. You just go minute by minute and deal with each thought as they come to you, and each problem as it arises. And then you move on.

How did I get through the Ironman last year, with my nutrition that I left in the trunk of my car, the surprise weather forecast that left many on the side of the road with hypothermia, the clock that ticked away and the initial goals in my head that slipped away, too?

I think, really, for the first time in my life actually, I didn't think about it. I just did it. I stayed in the moment or I would never, EVER have made it to that finish line.

Somehow, I need to do that here. I will get fitter again. I will get faster again. I've never let myself down before, and I damn well know that I won't now.

So maybe instead of worrying, I'd better just enjoy the view from the Eiffel Tower this tri season.

This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race

The Scene: somewhere near Painesville, Ohio. August 12, 2001. Two smelly, sweaty chicks flexing on a curb.

TriShannon: I am so pumped we just did our first Tri!

TriSaraTops: Me too! I'm pudgy! Let's get a Blizzard.

TriShannon: Seriously, we should probably pass on the Blizzards. You want to get one every time we finish a workout.

TST: OK, Dude, whatever. You so go with me every time and I don't even have to twist your arm.

TriShannon: Yeah, yeah. I know. Hey, I think our $19.99 Adidas trail shoes we got at Kohl's a few months ago are fierce!

TST: No way, man. The best part of my shoes is the COTTON socks I have on that I put on in T1. So necessary. They totally made my race.

TriShannon: Is that a nuclear power plant in the distance?

TST: Yeah...it's cool. I don't have a third eye yet, do I?

TriShannon: No...I suppose you're right. So, um, we did get here a little early didn't we?

TST: Well, the book I have says always to get to the race early so that you have plenty of time to set up your transition!

TriShannon: Yeah, but I don't think they meant to get there 2 hours early and before the Race Director shows up.

TST: Well?! We SO had lots of time to get ready.

TriShannon: OK. Whatever. These leis are hot!

TST: NO WAY. What's HOT is my shorts that I put on in T1 that made my thighs chafe because it poured on us and I like to eat Blizzards. Now THAT'S hot.

TriShannon: I executed a flawless pre-race strategy.

TST: I was at a wedding last night and my drunk roommate best friend forgot her key and had to throw things at my window at 1am to wake me up. At the time, I was really pissed but I bet in a little bit that will seem funny.

TriShannon: I am SO going to do an Ironman someday.

TST: YOU CRAZY! I will NEVER do one of those. That's just INSANE. I mean, HOW can you do that?! There's no way. I have no desire to ever do that.

TriShannon: Whatever, wuss. I've always wanted to do one.

NOTE: TriShannon would have done an Ironman LONG before TriSaraTops if it wasn't for a nasty injury she had to deal with. She would have most likely whooped her ass.

TST: I don't doubt it, dude. You do everything you set your mind to. Hey, maybe I'll do a marathon now!

TriShannon: Um, don't you think you should try something more than a 5K first?

TST: Nah! No biggie! I just did a triathlon, so now I think I can probably do anything!

TriShannon: Yeah, I feel strangely invincible. Like our training ride where we rode 21 whole miles on our mountain bikes! Our mountain bikes are FIERCE.

TST: Yeah! Remember when we were doing a ride on our heavy mountain bikes and I ran into a curb, skinned my knee, blew my tire, and we had to walk all the way home? That totally sucked.

TriShannon: Yeah. We looked like tools.

TST: I need a Blizzard just thinking about it.

TriShannon: Hey, if I ever move away, let's be tri friends forever!

TST: Totally.

For The Record

I'd just like to state that I'm well aware that pool swimming and open water swimming are very different things. I feel a little insulted here, and wanted to clear that up. Perhaps I should have stated all of this in my previous entry, but I guess I didn't think it really needed to be said.

Again, my goals are MY goals, I know what I'm capable of. I set my goals based not only on what I've done in the pool both the past year of training and throughout my 25 years swimming, but also from my 5 years of triathlon racing at all distances in open water.

Thank you for the kind words--I am and continue to be proud of my Ironman day. What would life be without high goals, you know? I will continue to aim high.

Now I'm off to the CTC Newbies committee meeting--I'm excited to meet some new triathletes and help them meet their goals this year!

Settling the Score

I woke up a little angry today.

This is rare. I usually don't wake up feeling like, really, anything, except hitting the snooze button perhaps. But I just felt kind of mad. At me.

I think what triggered this was that I finally got my swim photo from Ironman Wisconsin. They forgot to include it before, blah blah blah. So it came in the mail a few days ago. And I probably should just throw it away. Because it really just reminds me of feeling rotten.

The photographer that snapped my picture as I tried to get off my wetsuit and stepped on the mat completely captured my emotions of that moment. Too much, I think.

It is a face of complete, utter disappointment and disgust.

Now, I realize that my 1:28 swim is "fine." I realize that this may sound a little bit like someone who is mad about running a 3:47 marathon because they wanted 3:40. But, in this one instance, I think I understand how that feels.

For ME, and this is why I do this, anyway--for ME--I had a rotten swim that day. The worst swim of that distance of my life, actually. And when I look at that picture, I see it in my face. No one else probably could even see it, but I know me. And I know what's going through my head at that exact moment.

"I blew it."

For me, on my face I see the look of someone who knew they could do better and didn't. And that, for me, is the worst feeling of all.

I know, I know...all the things my head and even my friends have told me to try to justify....

"It was a record Ironman swim start--more people than in any Ironman in history"

"Most people's times were a little slow...not like what they usually post"

"Even the pros came out later than usual, Sara"

"You had a BLACK EYE at school on Tuesday from the BEATING you took in the water"

Blah. I hate excuses.

When it comes down to it, I swam 4500 yards in the pool weekly at a much faster pace than what I swam that 4224 on Ironman morning. And it's the ONLY thing I'm disappointed about. Not the endless, cold bike ride from hades....not my marathon (actually, I think that was my favorite). Just my swim.

Because I could have done better. I can do much better. I expected to come into T1 nowhere near that. I had a number in my head and it wasn't even close to the one I saw on that clock when I stepped on that mat, and I see it in my face and I hate it.

I want another shot. But I can't have one for a while. So I'm just going to have to tuck that picture away for the time being, I think. I'll pull it out again when it's time to prepare for IM swim #2.

In the meantime, I am pretty proud of myself for being able to move past the moment. When I read my recap of that swim again, and when I remember how I decided at that moment--or rather, the moment AFTER that photog snapped my utter disgust--I was going to have to forget it or it would eat me up that day, I am happy that I was able to do that. So, in that sense, the picture doesn't really tell all of the story.

Because if, on the bike, I sat there and bitched in my head at myself about how much that sucked, I would have wasted so much energy on negativity. (Kind of like I am right now)

And I really don't think I would have made it. I needed all the energy I could get that day.

So, I'm gonna try to remember that. Clocks are clocks, bad stuff happens, and disgust and disappointment happen too. They are inevitable.

But the real test in life is what you do with them.

And I moved on that day. So I'll just put this picture away, and do that now.

Race Resume

Well, I really am finding I have some extra time on my hands on the weekends.

Like, a LOT of extra time.

I'm just not used to this. But I'd better get used to it....

Anyway, since I really have nothing better to do, I figured I'd take up Cara and Elizabeth at InTransit and try to make my "race resume." Currently I have most of my bib #s in a pile somewhere, but I can't find 'em. So, I'll have to go from memory here and from the random race hardware I've managed to get over the years. This resume is probably a better way to keep track. I can add to it as the years go by and just keep the bib #s that REALLY mean something (like 2198, for example).

This has been fun...it's helped me realize how FAR I have come in just a few short years. It also is reminding me that, for crying out loud, I'm only 29. I have many, MANY years left in me to reach some more racing goals. With the current situation, sometimes I think I forget that and get a little bummed. So it's been kind of fun to type this up and put it all out there--and FORCE me to remember how, just a few years ago, my first 5K was in about 31 minutes. I was carrying about 30 extra pounds around, even in my first marathon! And now? Wow...progress is definitely good.

I also find it funny that I pretty much STARTED with a marathon. That's totally something I would do.

Let's see....how to start? Perhaps I will make it look like one of those cheesy templates on Microsoft Office. :)

TriSaraTops: Race Resume

Education: Second Sole Running Club, Cleveland Triathlon Club, Angela Forster Training

Objective: To continue to challenge myself in every way possible by pushing my own little envelope in racing...and in life.

Skills: Persistance, steady speed
Areas of potential for greatest growth: 70.3, IM, Marathon
Life racing goals: PR by at least an hour in IM #2, complete a 50K run, BQ (although I may need to wait until I'm at least 35 for that one...I need every minute I can get), meet up with my good friends and travel all over the world for Half-Marathons and 70.3s until the day I die.

2006 Highlights

• Pace Team Leader the first half of the Cleveland Marathon "In On Time" Pacing Group 4:45 (hit split exactly)
• Maumee Bay Olympic Distance Triathlon: 2nd AG, PR in the swim, 2:59
• Musselman 70.3, as a C race and long training day, negative split the run, 6:47
• First of a few Century Rides: Sweet Corn Challenge 100 Mile
• Ironman Wisconsin: First Ironman, finished in 15:32 (close to my B goal)
• Fall Classic Half Marathon 1:55, PR by 40 seconds on not much training
• ran with one of my best friends from mile 23-26.2 at the Chicago Marathon and ran into another good friend on the course, and got to see another good friend, too--and decided I MUST do that marathon someday

2005 Highlights

• Cincinnati Flying Pig Marathon 4:18, a 56 minute PR over previous and only attempt at distance
• Silver Spring Stow Sprint Triathlon, 2nd AG
• Findley Lake Sprint Triathlon, 1st AG
• Lorain Olympic Triathlon, 4th overall female (out of, uh, 10...but it sounds pretty sweet, huh?), 1st AG, PR on the bike at Olympic distance. 2:54
• Deer Creek Pineman Half Ironman, first 70.3, 6:34
• Rocky River Spirit Run 5K, fastest staff member (female)

2004 Highlights

• Great Lakes Escape Olympic Triathlon: First Olympic ever! PR on the challenging run at Olympic distance 2:59
• Hermes Road Race Series: 2nd in Age Group 25-29 for year long competition of 5Ks and 10Ks for 2nd year in a row
• Lorain Sprint Triathlon, 3rd AG
• Dolores Sawan 5K 2nd AG
• Rocky River Spirit Run 5K, fastest staff member (female)

2003 Highlights

• First real season of racing 5Ks and road races
• PR in 5K this year 23:33, and haven't really been able to work on bringing it down since I fell in love with the long stuff
• First Half Marathon in Athens, OH 1:59 with Matt!
• Second Half Marathon: River Run 1:55
• Hermes Road Race Series: 2nd in Age Group 25-29 for year long competition of 5Ks and 10Ks
• A Most Excellent Run 10K: 2nd AG
• Multiple Sclerosis 150: Pedal to the Point: 2 day, 150 mile charity bike ride to and from Cedar Point Amusement Park, raised $500 to benefit MS Research
• Huntington Sprint Triathlon, 2nd AG
• Independence 5K 2nd AG
• Old Oak Run 5K 1st AG
• Dolores Sawan 5K 2nd AG
• PR'd by 8 minutes in the Turkey Trot 5 Mile, 40:02
• Lost 30 pounds, kept off to the present!

2002 Highlights

• First Marathon Ever: Cleveland Marathon, 5:14. Trained by myself with little knowledge of running, or racing for that matter

2001 Highlights

• Lighthouse Sprint Triathlon: First Triathlon ever with TriShannon, and now you can safely call us addicted.

1998 Highlights:

• First Ever 5K: Cincinnati Race for the Cure, September 1998, 31 minutes or so? Looked behind me just after the gun went off and thought..."Wow...a lot of people do these things...it must be fun or something."

________________________________________________________

So I guess you could say I've come a long way.

Kinda fun to think about what I'll add to this as the years go on...!