Yippee Kay-Yay

So the scale moved this week! Yahoooooooooooo

And someone lost 2 pounds! During Thanksgiving week, no less! I'd like to credit running. So good to be running again...although really slow!

This brings my grand total to just shy of 40 pounds in 8 1/2 weeks. But, there is still work to be done.

Workouts have been AWESOME and I'm so lucky that my little guy and my big guy (Matt) are allowing me to do them. Matt came home really fast after work yesterday just so that I could run outside instead of the dreadmill. It meant a lot to me. Also, Matt's Mom has been great and has watched JayZ a few times so I could hit the lap pool during the lunchtime open swim. I'm very lucky to have this kind of support around!

No biking yet. Haven't gone there. I know it's all mental, but I'm still a little afraid to put my butt on the saddle, despite it having 8 weeks to recover. Maybe this weekend I'll be brave.

Here's what things are looking like so far:

Monday: 4 mile run on dreadmill, 10:10 pace. Core work and lunges. (let's just say that core work is quite humbling when your core was ballooned to smithereens for 9 months. OWIE.)

Tuesday: 22oo yard swim with kick drills (ew), pull drills, and 12X50s. I held my 50s at a pretty consistent pace. 20 minutes of yoga. (Shout-out to "Inhale" on the Oxygen Network and my TiVO for letting me have yoga on demand.)

Wednesday: 30 minutes of yoga AM. 4 mile run outside--10:07 average pace, with my last mile (mostly into the wind) at 9:55!!!! I never thought I'd be so excited about a sub-10 mile. I was as happy as when under normal circumstances I run a sub-7 mile.

Today I'm feeling a little sore from the above so I will just most likely do a little more core work and take it easy otherwise. This Sunday I am looking forward to actually doing a run with my running buddies and then have a training seminar afterwards!

And, it's official. I am signed up for the Cleveland Half Marathon in May '08. Plunked down the ci-zash. I'm in. Not even going to attempt to set a time goal until I get closer, but I will be there. I'll be wearing a number again.

And that feels good.

And now, a dose of cuteness...a Through The Wall outfit...

What it means to put a number on

Yesterday, for the first time in a long time, I got to put a number on again. A race number. 564, to be exact.

It felt really, really good to put a number on again.

It was strange--usually for a 5K, I'm with my buddy Canada Jenn, and we are plotting how to PR. I get nervous. I have to pee. And then I have to pee again. And by then the line's inevitably too long, and I can't, and I worry. And we line up. And we go go go as fast as we can and I usually run the first mile at a pace I have no business running and I wheeze and occasionally feel like I'm going to puke. Sometimes I see a PR. Usually I don't, so then we talk about how we could have done this or that, and how we could have done better and "if I just would learn not to go out so fast "blah blah blah. And then there's a banana, and water, and if we have time, some coffee.

Yesterday, there was none of that.

For starters, there was no Canada Jenn. My friend is gone and in Peoria, Illinois. And I was a little sad about this. My friend I spent so much time racing with for so many years is gone and isn't coming back. So our weekly chat sessions will have to do.

And then, there was no thoughts of a PR. Or anything resembling fast, really. There was still the chance of wheezing and puking though. I tried to run 3 miles outside for the first time on Monday and it did NOT bode well. After a painstakingly slow 1.5 miles, I mostly shuffled home, dejected. I had really begun to doubt I'd be able to even finish this little 5K race.

But it's an important 5K race. It's for a wonderful cause and a wonderful person, whom I never got the chance to meet before she passed away of breast cancer at age 38. But my Mom did. She taught her 3-year-old daughter that year, as the little girl's mom bravely battled her cancer. She even made a special storyboard for the three year old class that goes along with the story, "There Was an Old Woman Who Swallowed a Fly." My Mom still uses it with her classes today. From what my Mom tells me, she was a brave and special woman. And this race honors her memory and legacy.

So what did this race mean? What does any race mean?

For many, a cause. Because she isn't around anymore to hug her son, but I can. And my Mom can still hug me. That's why I ran.

Because sometimes just lining up is exciting. Smiling, waving, and enjoying the starting line with friends. Sometimes that's what we're there for.



Sometimes we're there to push ourselves and our boundaries. For me, yesterday, that meant running the whole 5K seven weeks postpartum and feeling great. Knowing I could have gone faster and farther. Surprising myself and once again, being so proud of this body--this thing that does so much more than get me from Point A to Point B.

Yesterday I was there for those reasons, but also to run with my Mom, who I am so proud of. She pushes herself and, like me, sometimes doubts...but never, ever, ever gives up. And sometimes feels like she has to hurl at the end.

Just like me. :)

She tried to get me to go on without her, yesterday. My goal was to keep up with her and she kept feeling like she was holding me back, which was how I was afraid I'd feel. I know that feeling, and it's not fun. So there was no way I was going to leave her, no matter what. Every time she told me to "go ahead," I said NO WAY. Why? So I could finish 1 minute ahead of her? That's not what the number was about this day.

"We're in this thing together," I told her around mile 2. And she finished strong--we both did--and got to hug at the end. Which, I remembered, was part of the reason why I put the number on in the first place.

564 didn't mean what 2198 did. But in many ways, it means even more.

It means that I'm back to enjoying something that helps me grow and discover lots about myself. And being able to hug my mom at the end. And then going home and being able to snuggle with my son.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Let's Not Get Ahead of Ourselves

Reasons to do a little jig:

1. I can wear my old jeans...WITH a Bella Band, and it is not pretty. I basically have all muffin top to still lose. BUT--I can get in them and wear them if I chose, and the last time I tried 3 weeks ago there was NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO way. So yay!

2. The scale didn't budge for the first time this week...boooo...but I can do a little jig because of the above, and because a few other things are fitting better. So apparently things are "rearranging."

3. Yesterday, during my 2nd time in the pool since JayZ, I swam 100 yards in under 1:30. My jaw about hit the bottom of the pool. The other 3 100s I did totally blew, but it was a nice little boost for a second!

4. I got a HAWT little Brooks Hoodie Number at my fave local running store. I had a gift certificate from my birthday and had been saving it until I could actually run again. Yahoo! It's officially my comeback shirt.

5. The Buckeyes pulled it off today, and I totally did not expect them to.

Now, why I should NOT do a little jig:

1. Trying on those cute little running skirts on clearance at said local running store is a HORRIBLE IDEA when you've still got 20 pounds or so of muffin top to lose. HORRIBLE. WE'll definitely have to wait a few months for that. Ew.

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.

But it made sense...for a second.

So I had this theory.

The theory was, that, after consulting with several friends with newborns, formula costs an average of anywhere from $15-25/week.

I am nursing, which costs zero dollars a week.

So I think that since my knockers are saving us, let's say, $25 a week, than it's only fair to use that $100 a month and put it towards a sweet new tri bike.

Right?

I mentioned this theory to Matt, who replied by raising an eyebrow and saying, "How many bikes does one person really need?" to which I replied, "Well, that's obvious....three...one road, one mountain, and one tri...and I only have two."

Then I got a look like I had just asked for a poop sandwich for dinner.

The theory holds well, until I considered that perhaps the $25 a week my girls are saving us could probably be better spent on, oh, maybe a college fund...or putting food on the table...or paying the electric bill...

Sigh.

I thought it made perfect sense. For about five minutes.

Oh well.

The Inevitable Conversation

Mind: Next week is six weeks already.


Body: Yep. I'm still recovering.


Mind: I can't believe it's been six weeks already.


Body: Still recovering. You hear me?


M: I can't even put into words how much I love him.


B: That was all me, by the way. I grew that.


M: Seriously. More and more every day.


B: You're welcome.


M: I can tell things aren't the same. Anywhere.


B: Ya think?


M: I get down on myself sometime for not having things instantly back to normal.


B: Give me some time, for crying out loud. Look at what I just did. Can I have a little credit? Please?


M: I wonder if I can start running...or should I say, run/walking (aka wogging) next week?


B: I wish you'd give it a rest and chill out already.


M: I hope I can.


B: You're going to get frustrated if you think you can just go back to the way it was instantly.


M: I know, I know! Seriously, I know. I'm ready. I'm ready for the first "this sucks and I just peed my pants" run.


B: (No you're not.)


M: I'm slowly but surely dropping this weight, and that's good.


B: Once again, I JUST GREW A PERSON. CUT ME SOME FRICKEN SLACK.


M: My stomach looks like a deflated balloon.


B: SERIOUSLY I can't even talk to you right now.


M: I signed up for the Turkey Dash again this year...I know I won't be out at the bars driving my drunk best friend around until 3am like last year so maybe I'll actually make it?


B: If you think you can run the whole thing, you're on crack.


M: I KNOW!!!!! I'm fully accepting the fact that I will be wogging.


B: (No you haven't.)


M: It will be fun just to be out there and at a race again.


B: Don't forget. I just baked a person for you, so no getting pissy at being slow for the first few months.


M: I know!


B: (No you don't.)


M: No, REALLY. I know, I know, I know. You're much smarter than me. I think I finally understand that. You got me here. And you got me this:

...and because of that, I respect you now more than I ever have in my entire life.

B: Well it's about time.

M: I wonder if I will be OK to start running next week....?

B: Oh brother.

This Just Isn't Supposed to Happen

My heart goes out to the wife, family, and friends of Ryan Shay. This is a sad day for distance running...wow.

Thoughts and prayers to those that knew and loved him. Very sad stuff.

Thanks for the kick in the pants!

Thanks for the much-needed kick in the booty. I feel better knowing that a) my feelings are normal and b) I'll get there eventually. I know I can't rush this, and if I try I will only screw things up. My body is way smarter than my head, after all.

Speaking of which, JayZ is sleeping on my shoulder and making the CUTEST. NOISES. EVER. He'll be a pumpkin tonight and help us pass out candy. :)

Just got back from the Docs. Without giving TMI, and/or grossing out the world at large, let's just say that she was VERY excited to see that things are healing VERY well. Also, inconvenient/embarrassing/nasty things that often happen when you have certain procedures that I had are NOT happening, which is outstanding. Then I had a conversation to ask her about using the elliptical that went something like this:

TST: So I have a question for you...

DOC: Yes?

TST: See, I've been walking 2-3 miles a day the past 2 weeks....

DOC: (Making a face like I just told her I smoke crack for breakfast) WHAT? No, no no.....

TST: Huh?

DOC: 2-3 miles is WAY too much. I don't want you to have that much friction there...(yes, she said friction in regards to my bum)

TST: But...you said I could walk...?

DOC: Like, a mile or so at a leisurely pace! Not 2-3 miles and not fast!

TST: Oh. (Thinks in head that now is probably not a good time to ask about using the elliptical)

DOC: In two weeks you should be able to get back to exercising.

TST: Oh. (Thinks again that she might smack me if I ask about using the elliptical) Okay.

And so it goes. But when you tell me I can start walking, then I START, you know? Homey don't do leisurely one mile slow walks.

But I guess I will for 2 more weeks.

Oops.

The weather here is absolutely GORGEOUS--I heart NEOhio in the fall. The leaves are bright colors and it's a nice 68 degrees...no humidity, no mosquitoes...perfect for Halloween.

So I guess me and the little Pumpkin will be going for a slow walk and then passing out candy, which I am going to REALLY try hard not to eat.

Except for one fun-sized Butterfinger. 2 glorious points. MMMMMMMMM.

:)

Pardon Me While I Beat Myself Up

Today was a BEEEYOOOOTIFUL crisp, fall day in C-town, and all I could think about was how good it would be to go for a run.

Sigh.

I had to settle for a walk. Which was nice, but just not the same as a good fall run.

And I'm being irrational about my weight and need to cut it out, pronto.

I dropped 30 pounds virtually instantly, but since then the scale has not budged much. And I want it to. NOW. NOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNOW.

I realize that tomorrow is 28 days since JayZ got here, and I am being stupid. I am doing everything I can...dutifully entering my Weight Watchers points, walking 3 miles a day, blah blah blah. I can't possibly expect my body to be back to normal now.

But I want to.

Blah.

I think once I can actually start running/swimming/more-than-walking, I'll feel better. I'm going to ask the Doc Wednesday if I can try the elliptical. I mean, if I'm walking...that shouldn't be a problem...right?

Blah.

But I look at my little man's face and think how much it was worth it.

And then I eat a piece of celery and want to go for a run.

Can somebody please send me some patience?

NOW?!?!

The Soothing Sounds of Axl Rose

First, before I start, let me say last night was AWESOME!!!!

By "awesome," I mean JayZ slept from 11pm-2:45am!!!!!!!!!!!!

(it's the little things that make me happy)

Then he was up until 4:45 but then let me sleep with only 2 or 3 interruptions until 8:30!!!

That's my boy!

Okay, enough of that. So yesterday I totally thought I could go during his "mellow time" (usually 6-8pm) to Trader Joe's to get me some WINE (yahooooooooooooooo), Extra Virgin Olive Oil (my staple for cooking and it's hella cheap there), some Emergen-C for Matt (also cheap there), and tasty cereal and peanut butter (the bomb). Things were OK until I made it to the peanut butter, and then my little man decided to freak out on me. I was sort of embarrassed. I decided to high-tail it to the checkout aisle without looking like an even worse mother by perusing the wine aisles with a screaming baby. So, no wine for TriSaraTops yet. Sigh. Although I have had some tasteeeeee Hoegarden (yum!!!) which rocks.

I paid and sheepishly got the heck out of dodge, while JayZ continued to melt down. I got to the car and put him in, hoping that the car would mellow him out as it usually does. Not until I turned on the radio did he calm down. And who was on the radio? My boy Eddie Vedder, singing "I Am Mine," which is on my running mix.

Sigh. Running.

He was pretty calm during that, but what really lulled him to sleep was the next song: Mr. Brownstone by G N' R. WTF??????

This is also on my running playlist and gets me so pumped up! But apparently to JayZ it is a sweet little lullaby.

I guess that's what he gets for having a father that listens to nothing but Iron Maiden, Anthrax, and Pantera in his car and a Korn onesie that he proudly wears.

Anyway, listening to these songs got me soooooooooooooo excited to start running. I really really really hope I get the all clear on the 12th to exercise, as I signed up for a tri swimming clinic that meets every other week to work on my stroke and just miss running and my running buddies so darn much.

I also saw that my Iron Sis Wil has started a 23 minute 5K challenge. See, that rocks on so many levels. I have run a 23 ish minute 5K a couple of times, but not in, like YEARS. That will be a fun goal for me to try next year. It got me all pumped up. My Runner's World Guide to Running and Pregnancy says to "disregard your pace for the first three months of running."

You know me. That's gonna be hard. But I'm gonna try.

So I figure if I can start run/walking in 3 weeks, hopefully by the holidays I'll be able to do some half-hour-45 minutes of consistent running...even if it's slow. Then I can gradually introduce some speedwork and hills in the new year, and hopefully be back on track by the time the first few 5Ks roll around in February and March. Maybe by early spring I can actually see some decent times.

Or not. Or I just get to make it to the starting line of some 5Ks this early spring and I'll have to be happy with that. And you guys will have to remind me to be happy with that.

And if spring comes early I can even take my little man out in his SWEET jogging stroller!

hee hee

So anyway, obviously, all plans are subject to change depending upon what the doctor says and what my body says. But for now, I'm getting excited to get back out there again. Fall is here--my favorite season by far--the leaves are changing and everything's preparing for winter.

So thanks to Eddie and Axl for lulling JayZ to sleep and for getting me mentally prepared for my very different winter.

Last Night Was a Bad Night....

He had 3 good nights in a row...but last night he was up every 45 minutes.

Ugh.

But how can you stay mad at this face?

Seventeen Days

Seventeen days ago my world changed forever.

It has been, as I thought, harder than anything I've ever done. Anything.

From the labor...the most physically demanding and painful and joyous experience I've ever felt...to the tears from lack of sleep, to the amazement and wonder as I stare at this little being that my body created.

For several years my life involved the buildup to this thing called Ironman. It was scary. It was going to hurt. It made me doubt my very abilities from time to time. It wasn't something I could necessarily plan, but something I had to prepare for and cross my fingers and hope for the best.

In the end, it was worth every second...despite the setbacks, the sacrifices, and the occasional disappointments. Somehow I made it to the finish line, and felt so alive in the realization of what my body had just done.

I was amazed.

So far this journey is even more amazing.

I just look at him sometimes...just stare...and think, "How did my body do this?"

How did I help create something so wonderfully complex and challenging and perfect?

I look at him and see so much of Matt and myself, but also his own little drive and personality. Already. It's crazy. I wonder what he'll be and do and enjoy...and if I'll be good enough for him.

I'm utterly, completely amazed.

Still, my body is providing everything he needs. I don't have to think about this; it just does it. Just as my body helped him grow before he arrived, it continues to do so now. There is nothing I can say or do to change this. It's just what I'm supposed to do, and what I'm doing.

The nights are getting easier. I'm starting to adjust to this new life, despite the "two week shell-shock" that my friend described to me before. I'm crying a little less and trusting myself a little more. I'm learning to get by on an hour of sleep here and there...to avoid getting peed on (the joys of a little boy) and to laugh sometimes instead of cry.

He knows me. I say words and he knows me...he recognizes me. That has been the most amazing part so far. It's a feeling I can't describe in words.

I think about how far we've come in seventeen days, and how much I've already changed. I can't stop thinking about where we'll go from here.

I hope I can be everything he needs.

I hope I make him proud.

Crawling before you can walk...

...and ride...and swim...and run...

Today I had my first doctor's appointment to check some things out. I'll spare you the details as to what those things are. Let's just say they are healing well...good news! I go back in 2 weeks to check again.

And, I got the all clear to start walking today! You don't understand how FREAKING excited I am. See, I have been literally in my house for 2 weeks now. It's been nice to forcefully get me to rest (relatively speaking, of course..resting in 2 hour increments) and relax a bit. But, as stated before, I DON'T SLOW DOWN WELL, and have been feeling very antsy. However, I know what my body's just been through is worthy of recovery and recovering RIGHT, or else it will mean more time on my (sore) ass in bed.

So, to hear I could walk made me happy.

I've been replacing Pregnancy magazines with Inside Triathlon and Runner's World.

I've been able to check blogs a bit and get excited from reading other's goals and plans.

I've been excited to start my plans...which begin with walking.

It will still be 4 more weeks before I can swim and, according to my Doc, at LEAST 4 more weeks before I can run. I'm going to do all I can to try and make it 4, but if the body needs more, I guess it needs more and I can't rush it.

I can't even FATHOM sitting on my bike right now. I didn't even ASK the Doc when that will be. Arcaro the Road Bike will just have to wait a while.

It's a little ironic that I'm having this forced recovery in the beginning of what most of my tri-buddies are calling their off-season. I feel strangely like I am following that, too. Slow recovery, followed by nice easy base. Funny...for the first time this year, I don't feel like I'm missing anything...I feel like I'm right on schedule.

And I have a little JayZ man, to boot. Life can't be better.

If only he'd sleep more at night...but hey, he's only 2 weeks old so I've gotta cut him some slack. :)

Off to walk!

No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn

....or Jackson. Who will now be known as JayZ. Because he's big pimpin' and spendin' G's. Or maybe just big.

I have neither the time, brain capacity, nor energy to compose a witty paragraph post....so list format it is.

1. My friends, family, and coworkers are AMAZING, and I'm quite sure that without them I'd be a crying exhausted heap on the floor. Special props to my Mom who has been my own personal nurse on call...and maid...and coffee maker...and laundry folder...and baby rocker...etc. etc. etc.

2. Multiply that by about 57 and that's how amazing Matt has been. I thought I loved him before...this whole adventure takes that to another level entirely.

3. I sorta feel like a milk machine.

4. I've lost 28 pounds in 10 days. Can you say, water weight? Sadly, I still have quite a ways to go....but it's a start.

5. I'm getting really good at changing diapers in the dark.

6. I haven't slept more than 3 hours at a time since September 30.

7. Sometimes I'm not sure who cries more at 3am....JayZ or me.

8. Once again...Matt is amazing. Even more so at 3am when I am exhausted and not making sense and babbling.

9. JayZ is the cutest thing I've ever seen, and I can't believe that he's mine.

10. He's now 9 pounds 6 ounces, and has gained back all of his weight, so I must be doing something right.

11. Every day the world is a little more amazing to me, and every day I'm surprising myself and slowly getting the hang of this whole thing.

The hardest thing I've ever physically done...

...was to bring my little man into the world Tuesday night.

Jackson Adam Ziemnik arrived at 7:39pm. He was 9 pounds, 4 ounces. Yep, I grow 'em big. Somehow I made it through with Matt's help and avoided a C-Section, despite Jackson being in a difficult position and being such a big little man. I've never experienced something so surreal and amazing. Ever. Evereverever.

We're finally home and doing well...not sure when I'll be able to update as I'm lucky to get 10 minutes to take a shower here and there. But soon, I promise!

Thanks for all the happy thoughts over the past 10 months. We are so happy right now, and I just love him more every second.

IronMom, signing out! :)

So Tuesday, October 2nd, it is.

I just found out today.

Wow.

Okay.

Not much else to say.

I'm ready, and I'm scared, and I don't feel like I'm ready, and that's about all.

It's go time.

Strange Silence

It's been a little while, because I really don't have much to say.

What do you say on the eve of your life changing forever?

Yeah, I don't know either.

All is well, and I've been beaming with pride for all my IronFriends in Wisconsin. Seeing you cross the line and reading your stories reminds me of where I've been and where I'll go again someday.

That being said, I definitely pushed myself too far the second week of school and ended up a little overwhelmed, dehydrated, and exhausted. A day off school helped, and so did the weather finally breaking to my favorite temperature EVER....high of 60 something, low of 40 something. Now, if I could just fit into my favorite jeans and sweatshirts, I'd be set...but these maternity ones and Matt's sweatshirts will have to do.

School is challenging me and keeping my mind off things, which is good.

I've gotten to do lots of fun things with Matt and my friends the past few weekends, and will continue to do so as long as I can.

I have less than 3 weeks now.

Saturday night at the Tribe game some drunk guy touched my belly in the elevator and told me I'm having a girl.

In the elevator, people. No escape.

Sigh.

I can't wait to be done and meet this little monkey that's been climbing around and kicking around like crazy, but then I remember how it has to get out. And then I get pretty scared.

And as excited as I am, for 30 years now it's just been me, myself and I making my decisions. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a little scared to give that up. I know it's worth it, or we'd all be only children....but I'm pretty independent and it's a little scary, and that's all. Somewhere I read that becoming a mother is like having your heart forever walking outside of your body. It's a little intimidating.

Tomorrow, I will find out how big this critter is. And Thursday, some decisions might be made. And when it comes down to it, as of today I'm full term. Which means it could happen in 5 minutes, or in 4 weeks.

And that, my friends, is scary.

Please don't let it happen in front of a room full of 16 year olds.

So I don't know if I'll get to post again before...I feel a little like I'm at the edge of the high-dive at the pool when I was about 7 years old, looking down, thinking, "It will be so fun...just do it...go...go...it's time...you can't stand here forever..."

And in that situation, there's really nothing left to do, but close your eyes, turn off the voices in your head, and jump.

So, for lack of a better ending...here I go.

A Year Later

...here I sit.

At home. In front of my computer. Nowhere near Madison, Wisconsin.

It's hard to believe it's been an entire year since I felt the whirlwind, since I was checking the weather report every hour, since I layed out all my gear and food and socks and tubes and stuff on a hotel bed and stared at a series of 4 bags and went, "What am I doing here? Do I really deserve to be here?"

But I did somehow. I earned the right to enter the water that morning, and as I blew a kiss to Wil and said a nervous "good luck!" to TriThomps and then, about 17 seconds later when I heard Mike Reilly say, "ONE MINUTE! WHO WANTS TO BE AN IRONMAN TODAY?" I spontaneously thought, "Oh sh*t" and peed in my wetsuit.

And then the cannon went off.

And I didn't have time to think about the doubt anymore. I just had to go.

Now, 36 weeks pregnant, I feel an entire new kind of scared. Every Saturday I wake up, I think, "Is this the last Saturday I have to sleep in a bit?" I wonder if all this baby gear will get easier to figure out, as I still can't figure out how to fold up the damn travel system stroller. And why is it called a "travel system?" I mean, seriously. It's a baby. Does it really need a "system?"

I feel this little being tossing and turning around in my stomach and watch it roll. I still wonder if I'm cut out for this or if I really deserve this. If I'm really ready for this. If I can still do this and be me.

Pretty soon my proverbial cannon's gonna go off, I guess. And as much as I can't wait for it to get here...as much as I've thought and researched and mulled it over for nine months now...I still have some doubt. But once that moment's here, I'm not going to have time to worry or doubt anymore.

I just need to go.

I pray for my friends tomorrow that they trust themselves and go. They're ready. It's time. So to everyone who's toeing the line in Madison tomorrow at 0700, and especially to my friends that made my IronDay the amazing day it was last year: Bubba, Greyhound, Wil, TriShannon, Tac Boy, Walchka, Pharmie, Stu, and Steve...I'll leave you with the quote that I read before I left my hotel room at 4am:

"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat." --T. Roosevelt, 1910

Go get 'em, guys.

Squeaky Wheels

Okay, this is a little funny. I just had to share the email I just sent off to our town's Recreation Director about an incident that occurred twice in the last two weeks.

_____________

Hello!

I am a city resident, and let me first say how lucky we are to have such a wonderful pool to swim at all summer! I only wish it was here when I was growing up in this city. I am 9 months pregnant and can't wait to take the baby there next year.

I have a question about the lap lanes. I LOVE that there are permanent lap lanes to swim in all day--thank you so much! As an endurance athlete, it's great to know I can hop in anytime and get a workout in. Even this summer, as I've gotten bigger and bigger, swimming has been my solace. I have been swimming up there 2-3 times a week and love it. However, last week and this week there was a little minor confrontation that I had never heard of nor experienced before all summer, so I wanted to make sure I had my facts straight, as well as make a suggestion to avoid any confrontations next year.

The 4th lap lane (closest to the actual pool where everyone is swimming--not the slides) has been open pretty much all summer. I have swam there several times. Last week there was a group of ladies there who would not let me swim in it. They said it was for "Senior Citizens only." I was puzzled, as I thought they were all for lap swimmers. These ladies were not swimming, but merely standing/bobbing around. Every once in a great while they'd move, but for the most part they just stood at the shallow end of the lane and chatted. Luckily, a nice lady in the lane next to her let me share. I didn't think too much of it. I asked the girl at the front desk on my way out if it was a senior only lane, and she said "no--unless they are doing laps they can't just stand there." She told me if it happened again to ask a guard to have them move.

The following day, I went to get in my (very slow!) mile swim, and there was one lady in the lane. The other lanes were all taken again with lap swimmers. This lady was just standing there, so I asked if I could share the lane. She said, sure! I hopped in and began my swim. I saw a few other ladies get in as I swam the first 6 laps. Then, a lady STOPPED me to tell me I couldn't swim there! I was puzzled again. They said it was for "seniors and the handicapped only." I told them that the pool staff had told me it was for lap swimming. We asked the guard above us, and he said, "No, that lane is for LAP SWIMMING." The ladies erupted in anger and said that they had talked to you, and you promised them that they would have this lane, and the guards would also allow this lane for them.

I said I'd be happy to move as soon as another lane opened up, but I really just needed to do my swim so I would be happy to share the lane with them. They wanted NOTHING to do with that. One suggested that I swim on the other side of the lane lines, in the actual swimming pool where all the kids were. I told her that I'm sorry, but I'm 9 months pregnant, and I'm not going to risk getting kicked in the belly.

Here's where it gets a little funny.

They immediately said, "Oh, you're pregnant? Then you can use this lane too!" The one ringleader of the ladies said, "We INVITED pregnant women and the handicapped and disabled to use our lane." But, they eyed my swim cap and goggles and said, "Well, can we ask how long will you be swimming here?"

I replied, "Probably another half an hour."

To which they all responded in unison, "Oh, no. That's way too long."

I resisted the urge to laugh really hard...it seems that if I were to act like a 9 month pregnant woman and bob like them, I'd be "allowed" to stay in their lane, but according to their arbitrary rules, I was just NOT acting like the pregnant women they "allowed" in their lane. It was almost too funny.

Luckily, at that very moment, a girl got out of the the lane next to me and, since the guard was not taking any action and I was clearly outnumbered by some angry women who were bigger than me and not going anywhere, I said, "Okay, here...I'll solve ALL the problems and get in this lane." They were happy, and continued to bob for another 45 minutes...not moving!

So, I guess I just wondered if all this was true. Is that lane reserved for Seniors/The handicapped/Pregnant women? (for the record, this pregnant woman would like to separate herself from being considered handicapped and/or a senior) If so, can it be clearly marked next year so that I don't have angry bobbers harrassing me? I won't be pregnant next year so I definitely won't "qualify." :)

If it's NOT and it really is for lap swimming ONLY, can you please have the guards enforce this and also put up some kind of sign? The guard there said it was a lap lane, but did not do anything, and, again, I was outnumbered...and they weren't about to go anywhere. I think it would make it all clear to everyone if there was some kind of sign and consistency. I never had a problem until last week, and had never heard of it until they were so up in arms and swore that they "petitioned the director" to get "their lane."

Again, I really enjoy the pool--this is the only little problem I've ever had there, and I must admit, it's almost a little funny. I caught myself laughing several times as we went back and forth as to whether or not I was qualified to swim in "their" lane. But I think a little clarification and consistency will nip this in the bud for next year.

Thanks so much! Please let me know what you think so that I am clear on the lap lane rules.

Sincerely,
TST

Spectating

I (finally) start school tomorrow. It's my own personal New Year. Year number nine of teaching high school. That's really hard to believe.

I worry a little...that I'm not good enough to do this AP class. That once my kids have me for a month and my friend who just retired, who will be my amazing most perfect maternity sub EVER for four months, that when I come back, they'll know. That I'm unsure of myself at times. That this is all new to me. That I'll be balancing this newness and fear with a 4 month old baby and a life of my own. I try not to think about it, but every once in a while it creeps in.

Today in the pool, swimming my (slow) mile, I thought of what a different state I'm in at the beginning of this New Year. Last year, when school started, I was 17 days out from Ironman. Heh. Yeah, this school year is a far cry from that...that's for sure.

I see a few of my friends going through much of the uncertainty that I felt last year at this point. I've tried to say what they need me to say, and not necessarily what they want to hear. I would be doing them a disservice if I didn't.

It's going to be hard.

Really, really hard.

But they know this. That's why they signed up.

There are no guarantees.

And that, in my humble, I've-only-done-one-Ironman-so-really-what-the-hell-do-I-know?-opinion, that's what makes it so intoxicating and surreal.

I'm going to try and sit here and articulate a few things that I wish I knew last year that I do now. Again, I am clearly NOT an expert on this subject. But there are a few things that, as I swam in the pool today, I remembered about that day.

I wish I knew how raw my emotions would be. From that morning, when it was clear that I wouldn't be able to see Matt before I got into the water, to on that shivering bike ride and sopping run--how unbelievably raw and open all emotions were. I felt tremendous love, pain, doubt, fear, and joy. I experienced the full spectrum of these emotions, and tried as best as I could to keep them in check, since that was the advice given to me. You will feel all these things. Remember that each will pass. Your day will have many highs and lows, and there will be times when you doubt that you can make it.

This is what makes it different than any other triathlon I've ever done.

I wish I knew to trust my training more. Even until the end, I could hear the little voices in my head..."Are you sure you did enough?" "Were four century rides too little?" "Don't you think you could have done more hill work?" "You've only ran 15 miles at a time, and you think you're going to do this marathon?" "You usually only swam twice a week. Don't you think that's awfully low?"

The truth was, it was plenty. For me. Probably in some ways even more than plenty. I rode the course ahead of time. I gave everything I had for nine months. My body was ready to do what I asked it to do.

Which leads me to the next thought.

What if that still is not enough?

I wish I would have known that no amount of training can prepare you for some of the things that happen out there. You have to trust yourself and your abilities to stay as calm and clear-headed as you can. I remember making adjustments that day--even as I was riding!--because I knew if I didn't, then I wouldn't make it. It meant a bike split about an entire hour slower than I knew I could do. But, after seeing person after person spinning out, laying on the side of the road with road rash all down their sides, I made that decision because I had to. And I'm glad I did, even though I can't say I'm satisfied with my ride. Keep your eye on the prize, and adjust as necessary.

I wish I knew that some parts of my day would profoundly disappoint me. I don't think I really anticipated that. Personally, I was disgusted with my swim. I came out of the water, saw what I did, and felt as if part of me had blown it. But you have to keep things in perspective...so I tried as best I could to leave it there on the Terrace. And I did, during the race. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't still think about it today. Maybe it will help fuel me the next time.

Finally, I wish I knew what that finish line was like before I got there. So I could really, REALLY slow down and enjoy it. My TriBro, TriEric, told me after he did IMUSA, to really look around and enjoy that moment. I thought I did, but looking back, I think I could have gone even slower--walked even!--to really take it all in. It's a magical place, which I can't even really explain. It makes you absolutely amazed beyond words at your own strength and ability. For me, it was the culmination of Faith, love for my friends and family, and absolute amazement at what my body just did.

(Sort of what I'm hoping childbirth will be like...but without the cameras and Mike Reilly)

Now that I'm forced to spectate, I'm reminded of all these things that I felt during those 15 hours, 32 minutes, and 32 seconds.

I wish I knew how much it would change my outlook on things. On pretty much everything. I still have plenty of doubt and fear, as evident in my first two paragraphs. I still have my own personal demons to slay from time to time. But when I remember that day and how it worked out, I always sort of get a sense of calm. Anything really is possible. If I did this--me, who was never a star athlete or really anything special--than I can handle pretty much whatever life throws at me. I'm reminded of that today.

I wish I had known that this race would show me that.

I wish nothing but the best for my friends who are getting ready to head to Madison. I can't wait to hear how their days unfold, because it will be different for every single one. And I dream of watching them all cross that line and seeing their faces.

No matter what happens. The weather. A flat. A disappointment here or there. Doubt, pain, and ultimately elation will come to each of them some way, and I just wish I could be there to physically experience it again, with them.

But this year, I'm on the sidelines...where I'm supposed to be for now.