Race Inventory for 2011

Wow, what a year it's been! Knowing that August 28 was going to be the ultimate test of endurance, I raced as much as possible throughout the summer. I tend to use races for my longer workouts, as it helps stave off the boredom and keeps me honest, and managed to find something almost every weekend from the beginning of May through Labor Day – not bad. Even better was remaining injury-free!

Here's the short version.

• 12 half-marathons
• 2 marathons
• 1 half-iron tri
• First full Ironman
• 1 200-mile relay
• 8 triathlons of assorted distances (two winter indoor tris not listed below)
• 1 sprint duathlon
• 8 assorted running races

I used a couple of the half-marathons as long recovery walks/jogs, and took advantage of the opportunity to walk them with people dear to me. That was a nice break and a welcome chance to relax. Below is a more detailed list of the year's events.

Race	When	Time	Where
Rock N Roll Half Marathon	Nov 13	3:40:15	San Antonio TX
NYC Marathon	Nov 6	4:59:57	New York NY
Big Hit Half Marathon	Oct 30	2:09:41	Louisville KY
Indianapolis Half Marathon	Oct 15	2:20:24	Lawrence IN
Bourbon Chase 200-mile relay	Oct 7-8	30:09:36	Lexington KY
PA Heritage Trail Half Marathon	Oct 2	2:34:53	Battle Ground IN
Indianapolis Women's Half Marathon	Sep 3	3:26:18	Indianapolis
Ironman Louisville	Aug 28	15:48:29	Louisville KY
Urban Dare Indianapolis	Aug 20	2:19:56	Indianapolis
Eagle Creek Sprint Triathlon	Aug 20	1:23:39	Indianapolis
Muncie August Triathlon	Aug 13	3:36:08	Muncie IN
Tri Indy (Duathlon)	Aug 7	1:35:15	Indianapolis
Eagle Creek Trail Half Marathon	Aug 6	3:04:44	Indianapolis
TNT Trail Run 5K	Jul 26	30:52	Indianapolis
Eagle Creek Sprint Triathlon	Jul 23	1:26:24	Indianapolis
Summit Lake Optimist Tri	Jul 16	3:47:33	New Castle, IN
TNT Trail Run 5K	Jul 12	34:26	Indianapolis
Border Challenge Olympic Triathlon	Jul 10	2:38:24 missing 1 bike loop	Jeffersonville IN
Round Barn Bike Ride 67 miles	Jul 9	~4.5 hours?	Brownstown IN
Freedom 5000	Jul 4	untimed	Austin TX
TNT Trail Run 5K	Jun 28	35:32	Indianapolis
Morse Park Summer Triathlon	Jun 25	1:36:24	Noblesville IN
TNT Trail Run 5K	Jun 14	31:52	Indianapolis
Carmel Half Marathon	Jun 11	2:19:38	Carmel IN
Hospital Hill Half Marathon	Jun 4	2:43:10	Kansas City MO
Boston's Run to Remember	May 29	2:27:11	Boston MA
Geist Half Marathon	May 21	2:23:21	Fishers IN
Rev 3 Half Iron Triathlon	May 15	7:56:51	Knoxille TN
Indy 500 Half Marathon	May 7	2:12:16	Indianapolis
Sam Costa Half Marathon	Mar 26	2:19:13	Carmel IN
Austin Marathon	Feb 20	5:06:54	Austin TX
Planet Adventure Winter Run 5K	Jan 29	35:35	Indianapolis
Bop to the Top 36-floor Stair Climb (Triple Challenge)	Jan 22	28:45	Indianapolis

Paula's travel adventure

[Note: Paula was flying from Seattle to Denver, on her way back to Indianapolis, when they had an emergency landing in Yakima, WA. It made for quite an interesting (and long) day for her. Here's what she has to say about it.]

Has anyone ever been on a plane that had to divert? I've experienced missed approaches and delays/cancellations for weather or maintenance but in 45 years of flying, have only diverted twice.

http://www.yakima-herald.com/stories/2011/12/14/smoke-smell-forces-emergency-landing-in-yakima

What makes my story more interesting is I was riding in the cockpit so observed all the preparation and activities that goes on during an emergency. I teach "Crew Resource Management" to new dispatchers -- now I have firsthand experience of an excellent demonstration of how well it works.

We left the gate in Seattle at 8:40am for a routine flight to Denver. The take-off was smooth and the view from the cockpit, as always, was wonderful. We climbed through a cloud layer and could see snow covered mountain tops poking out of valleys of heavy clouds. Clearance had given us instructions to climb to 37,000 feet and all was well. About 20 minutes into the flight, one of the Flight Attendants (FA) called the cockpit and reported a burning smell in the aft galley. The Captain (CA) asked several questions about what the smell was like, was the coffee pot working, was there any smoke, did anything change after shutting coffee pot off, etc. There was also another pilot sitting in the cockpit who was commuting to work. After discussing the situation with the FA, the CA sent the other pilot to the back to help troubleshoot. While he was gone the CA called the dispatch office to discuss the situation with dispatch and maintenance, while the First Officer (FO) starting collecting weather information for possible diversion airports. When the other pilot came back to the cockpit the decision was made to play it safe and land. The CA did not want to cross the mountains again to return to Seattle and Spokane was at least 45 minutes away so the decision was made to divert to Yakima, which was on our flight path.

When a decision like this is made, all sorts of people get involved. The cockpit crew notifies ATC of the issue and for a new routing, pulls out landing charts for the airport, does a PA announcement to the passengers, and - in this case - gets the plane ready for an overweight landing (we had lots of fuel and were going to land at an airport with a short runway, so special care is taken to get the speeds, rate of descent, etc. correct). ATC notified Yakima tower and declared an emergency to make sure that fire and rescue were available as a precaution. The FAs re-stow galley items, gets the plane ready for a landing and gives instructions to the passengers (NO, there was not a plan to use the slides). Dispatch is contacting customer service and Yakima station to get ground handling – Yakima is serviced by Horizon so their ground operations said they would take care of the plane. Maintenance is contacting an approved contractor in Yakima to meet the plane and investigate the problem.

The calm way that the crew discussed the situation, made a decision and acted on it was amazing to watch. My heart rate did not even go up. Now if this became a REAL emergency (actual smoke, fire alarm...) things would have moved much faster and we would have gotten on the ground ASAP.

Yakima weather was very overcast with low clouds so it was an instrument approach. We did not see the runway until less than a mile away. As we landed (around 9:30) I saw the fire trucks and every ambulance Yakima has (all 6) standing by. Most excitement the city has had this fall. We got to the terminal, Horizon brought up stairs and firemen came on board to check out the galley. No smoke or fire so everyone got off as quickly as the FAs could get them to move without taking any bags.

Before, I was just an observer in the cockpit. Now that we landed I asked what I could do and was immediately put to work. We took all the non-alcoholic beverages and ice off the plane into the terminal. The airport set up tables and we got drinks ready to serve everyone. Meanwhile maintenance and some of the crew are pulling out panels in the aft galley looking for the source of the problem. Nothing could easily be found so a more thorough inspection was needed and the plane was grounded. Within 90 minutes of de-planing dispatch was setting up a reposition flight from Denver to come get the passengers, customer service was frantically re-booking or delaying flights to handle the missed connections, and a call was made ordering 45 pizzas. (The manager was ready for the call as he heard about the diversion on his police scanner. WOO HOO, made his sales quota!)

Around 11:30 the pizza showed up and I switched from drinks to offering up slices of pepperoni, Hawaiian, veggie, or cheese pizza (brought back memories of being a short-order cook). After everyone was fed we let them back on the plane to collect their carry-ons. This could not be done sooner because Horizon had a plane arriving. In Yakima everyone walks on the tarmac to get to/from planes so we had to make sure passengers did not get mixed up. By 12:30 everyone had eaten and retrieved their carry-ons so I went back to the plane to wait with the crew – and eat pizza.

By then I knew I had missed my connection and was probably going to get stuck in Denver for the night. I'd already talked with my manager and arranged for someone else to work for me. There was a slim chance that if I could get to Denver before 7pm I could catch a Southwest flight. The 'rescue' plane from Denver was due to arrive in Yakima around 3:30 so just maybe it would work out. I wasn't concerned about getting home for work, but I was bringing Carla some Dungeness crab and it would only be good if I wasn't too late. Luckily it was in my carry-on so I left it outside (Yakima was COLD) while we waited. We figured between my crab and the wine on-board the crew and I could have a good snack if we got stranded together.

Horizon only has one set of portable stairs so when the other plane got close, the crew and I closed up the broken plane and went into their operations office to get new paperwork and wait. Nearby, they had parked the baggage carts with the luggage from the cargo holds. I could see my checked bag and asked if I could just take it with me. After thinking about the various regulations we decided I could if I took it through TSA screening at Yakima. Well, with a packed bottle of vodka that was not an option. What I really wanted to do though was grab one of the tens of boxes of oysters, crab and salmon that was among the cargo going to Denver (just kidding – about grabbing a box).

Finally, at 3:15 the new plane arrived. I stashed my crab (well wrapped) in the ice bin to keep cold and we started boarding. Dispatch had faxed a passenger list so TSA checked IDs to make sure the correct passengers re-boarded. After fueling, checking paperwork, re-loading all the bags and people, etc. we left Yakima at 4pm (7pm Indy time which was when my connecting plane was landing). Once again I was in the cockpit and could hear the passengers applaud at some information the FAs gave them. The rest of the trip was uneventful and we landed in Denver at 7pm, 6 ½ hours late.

To take care of all the missed connections Frontier brought in a bigger plane to fit all the Atlanta connections on, Detroit and other flights were delayed, passengers were rebooked and 80 hotel rooms awaited those who could not get out that night. Passengers also got meal vouchers and a $200 flight coupon. But, as a non-rev I was on my own. As I left the plane I knew I had no chance catching the 7:27 Southwest flight. Then I looked at the flight board...it was DELAYED to 7:45! I raced from Terminal A to Terminal C. Southwest had 50 open seats so I did not have to sit in the cockpit this time – and keep the crew awake while I snored.

I left Seattle at 8:40am and landed in Indy at 12:50am. I am always glad to see Carla but that night was especially nice. Someday my checked bag will catch up to me.

Thanks for reading,
Paula

Oh, do you wonder about my first diversion? Going to a wedding in Seattle in 1973, the plane diverted to Boeing Field due to a hijacking of a plane at SeaTac. But that’s another story...

[And Carla was very happy the crab made it back home in time. Sure was delicious! Oh, and it was nice to have Paula back in one piece too.]

Keep moving

Someone posted this video on Facebook. It ends with the simple phrase, "You will do this." It's a short video, a little over two minutes. As a tri-geek, I never tire of watching it. However, it has a lot to offer non-tri-geeks.



Even though I completed my first Ironman almost three months ago, I still watch this with a sense of awe. I think, wow, those people are amazing. Then I stop short, realizing that I am now one of those people. Really? How is that possible? I'm just some 50-year-old woman with a desk job, learning about menopause, living in the middle of the cornfields. Not anybody special.

I watch the accounting of the distances: 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, full marathon. 140.6 miles, all human-powered, all in one day, under 17 hours. Damn. Did I really do that?

Not only did I do it, I had a fabulous day and, for the most part, enjoyed the experience. How can that be?

I guess this is what can happen when you embrace the Ironman motto, "Anything is Possible". It really is true. Anything IS possible.

What a wonderful way to look at life! For me, it's a physical/mental journey, testing the limits of my endurance. For others, it's singing, writing, starting a new business, losing weight, building a career. For all of us, it's (sometimes quite literally) putting one foot in front of the other, always moving forward.

Follow your dreams. You won't regret it.

A great day at NYC Marathon 2011

This past weekend I had the honor of running the NYC marathon. It was truly one of the most fun races I have ever done, and definitely my best marathon experience (this was #7). The course was easy and fun, the weather was perfect, and the spectators were the best around!

Due to the size of the race (46,795 people finished), getting to the race start is quite the logistical challenge. The race starts on Staten Island, and the bridge has to be closed sometime after 8:00am or so. There were three wave starts, at 8:40, 9:40, and 10:40. This meant that most people had some serious time to kill once they got there.

I was lucky that my B&B was 5 short blocks from the No. 1 subway, which went directly to the ferry station. Another gawdawful-early alarm, on the subway by 6, at the ferry by 6:45, loading at 7:00, and we are on our way. The Au Bon Pain at the other end of the ferry ride was a blessing - I still had 3 hours before my race, so it was safe to drink a good cup of badly-needed coffee. From the ferry, we walk to some buses, take a 20-minute bus ride, then walk about another mile to the start villages. By the time I found a spot of ground for myself and settled in, it was 8:40 or so.

Most of us ate while we waited, and enjoyed the morning sun. Hung out and people-watched, got the bag checked, then it was our turn. This race was so big that those of us in the back (I was in corral 60 of 66) couldn't even see most of the wave. We didn't get to run on the top level of the bridge, which was a little sad, but we still got a good view of Manhattan from the lower level. It looked so far away! Are we really running all the way back?

Crossed the bridge, then ditched the warm fleece jacket I had picked up from Goodwill. The day was warming up fast, but the temperature was perfect. It peaked at 53 and the breeze was just enough to keep us comfortable. The course was split for the first eight miles to accommodate the large number of runners. Spectators were everywhere, making all kinds of noise, waving, holding signs, keeping us entertained. Wow. I'm really running in the famed New York marathon? Are you serious?

There was an aid station every mile, shortly before the mile markers, with porta-potties. I'm still waiting for menopause to kick in, so I had to use the porta-potties more than normal. With a crowd this size, there were always lines. Oh well, at least there were plenty of options. I had to stop at mile 4 and 17, and it was a little frustrating to watch all those people run by, but I didn't have any expectations of doing a PR today anyhow.

Felt great at the halfway point. Took a picture to prove it.

Made it through Brooklyn and Queens with their wonderful supporters, before crossing another bridge at miles 15-16, into the Manhattan for the first time. Running up First Ave into the Bronx was great fun. The streets were lined with people cheering and screaming, and it was easy to stay focused. How could you not feel good with so many people cheering for you?

The miles just slid by, ticking off faster than I expected. Reached mile 18, normally the dreaded Wall for many people, and didn't slow down. Is it possible that I can feel this good? What's wrong with me today? I'll take it! Crossed back over to Manhattan around mile 20, only 10K to go! Some poor guy near me was saying "Is it over yet?" He was hurting. He just groaned when I suggested we were close enough to walk the rest of it if need be.

I carried a little camera, and stopped a lot to take pictures. The pace felt slow, and I consciously slowed down when I found myself panting. Sometimes there was no choice, when 2-3 people would walk side by side or jog slower than I wanted, but that was a sort of break too. I walked all the aid stations but ran between each one, and didn't take any other walk breaks until around mile 22 or so, then I just took a few very short breaks. This is a heck of a lot easier when it's not preceded by a 112-mile bike ride!

The run down to Central Park was long, but beautiful. Between the crowds and the gorgeous fall colors of the trees, there was plenty to look at. I passed someone who had "40 Years Old Today" on her shirt, wished her a happy birthday, and said "It only gets better!" I'm not sure she believed me.

Mile 24 was shortly after entering the park, and I realized that I might actually do this thing in 5 hours, my typical time sans photo stops and potty breaks. Wow, really? How is that possible? I totally screwed around sightseeing, taking pictures and potty breaks for 24 miles, how can my time be that close to normal?

Pushed the last two miles, didn't stop for any more pictures, and barely did it: 4:59:57. Just enough to get my name printed in the New York Times Marathon Results secion, albeit in the bottom inch-and-a-half! Hey, it counts.

Post-finish was a bit of a cluster...yes they gave us the moon blankets (and even provided a piece of tape to tape it in place around your shoulders) and a bag of water/Gatorade/food. Unfortunately we were then herded into a funnel to get to the gear check trucks, and it was too crowded to walk and warm up. We shuffled along for what felt like a mile, and runners were dropping like flies. We were all wet and cold and unable to really move, a recipe for bad cramps. They did have plenty of medical people there, but if we'd been able to actually walk, there would have been far fewer people going down. I was lucky and my gear truck was one of the first few, so I could get out of there.

Found Shirley, my lone Honey Badger crew member, put on my warm clothes that I had checked, and immediately went for a burger, cheese fries, and a shake. The perfect way to cap off a glorious day (with a hot shower after, of course)!

The results:

Ironman nutrition

I probably obsessed over nutrition more than anything else. I was extremely concerned that I not screw this up, because it can make or break your day.

How will I get at least 300 cals an hour in me when:

• I can't eat solid food while I'm exercising. It just won't go down.
• It must be portable and not heavy.
• It must be quickly consumed.
• It needed to be more than just carbs.
• It was going to be a warm swim (water was 84 degrees), so starting well-hydrated was mandatory.

I figured I'd be out there for 16 hours and some change. 16 hours on nothing but gels = very unhappy stomach. And not enough protein would mean bonking. I've learned over the years that my body really likes protein, and needs it for anything more than 5 hours, as opposed to just straight carbs. I also know that I get really, really sick of the sweet stuff.

I've been using Hammer Nutrition's Perpetuem for about two years, so I knew that would be a component. It's a carb/protein drink and is more substantial than a straight electrolyte drink. The plain flavor doesn't taste that great but it's not sweet either, so it's worth a less-than-yummy taste simply to get a break from the constant sweetness.

Infinit makes a custom blended drink and I really wanted to try that with some protein in it, but time grew short and I didn't have time to get it and train with it. I did however, have a blend that was primarily carbs/electrolytes that I was used to, so I stuck with that.

Shakeology drinks have worked out well for me this year, simply because they're a more complete meal replacement than a simple protein drink, and my body seems to process it just fine. I've had good luck drinking them about 30 minutes before a race and before training, so figured they'd be worth a try as a meal replacement during a race.

Enduralyte capsules are a quick easy way to get some electrolytes in you without having to drink all that sickly-sweet junk.

So here's how the race day nutrition worked out.

Breakfast, 4am. Oatmeal with dried raisins, one boiled egg (I apologize to any swimmers in line around me)
Swim line, 5:30am, yogurt
Swim line, 6:30am, Shakeology.
- Sipped on an Infinit drink for entire time in line until 7am.
T1, 9:00am, Shakeology, two Enduralyte capsules
Bike, over the course of 8 hours:
- went through two front bottles' worth of Perpetuem
- around 3 bottles of Perform at aid stations
- several large bottles of cold water at aid stations (stopped and drank the entire bottle on the spot)
- four gels, approx one every two hours
- another Shakeology at special needs, around 2:30pm
- piece of banana at two of the aid stations
- two Enduralyte capsules at four different stops
T2, 5:30pm, drank Shakeology for dinner, two more Enduralyte capsules
Run, over the course of 5.5 hours:
- three pieces of banana at three separate aid stations
- gel every 3-4 miles since I was moving slowly
- Perform 3-4 times at aid stations (less than one an hour)
- Water at every aid station. Yep, all 25 of them.
- Bottle of Perpetuem at special needs, mile 14. Carried bottle with me and took about an hour to drink it all.

I really wanted to avoid the cramping/hydration issues that take so many people down, and measured my hydration by the number of pee stops. Peed at T1 and T2, twice on the bike, and three times on the run. All was well.

Around miles 50-60 of the bike I had cramps in my side, but remembered the advice from Coach Patrick of Endurance Nation: when your stomach cramps, drink water to dilute all the other junk. It helps settle the gut. And it worked. Before long the cramps subsided. Ditto on the run - when the stomach got queasy I would drink some water and feel better. I know the constant influx of calories/water is why I felt so good all day. I heard someone puking behind me on the run and was happy not to be them.

...and it took a couple of days to be able to eat normal-sized portions of solid food again!

My first Ironman

Oh my, where to begin...I wish everyone could have as much fun for their first Ironman as I did! It was truly an amazing day.

I may have to break this up into several posts, because there's just so much to cover! This one will only cover the race itself. A friend started calling me the Honey Badger. To understand the Honey Badger references, watch the youtube video here:



About a week and a half out from the race, I found myself entering a very calm, very relaxed state. Sure I was still a little nervous, but I felt very confident and ready. I felt like a kid the night before the final: if you don't know the material by now, you're not going to know it during the test, so no use stressing out about it. Either I was prepared or I wasn't, the day was going to go how it was going to go. Best to just control what you can, and let the rest happen.

The night before, I did manage to get a little sleep, even if it was fitful. Had no trouble waking up when the alarm went off at four, and went in search of a microwave for my instant oatmeal. The promised microwave in the lounge was locked up tight, so I had to go back into the hotel kitchen to nuke my breakfast. It worked out fine, so no stress there. Met up with two of the three "Honey Badger Crew" in the lobby, and walked over to the bike transition area, where I put my liquids on the bike. Then we headed down to body marking and the swim start, a 3/4-mile hike. Got there not too much after 5am, but it looked like the line for the swim start was already pretty long. Oh well, I know there's still lots of people behind me, so no worries.

[The swim start at Louisville is a unique Ironman start. Instead of the mass free-for-all start, you get in one long-ass line, and jump off a dock every second or so. The time cutoff for the swim doesn't start until the last person enters the water, so if you're a pitiful-slow swimmer like me, it behooves you to get as near the front of the line as possible.]

We all hung out in line for the next two hours or so, chatting and relaxing. I felt like I had entered a sort of Zen state: I was incredibly calm, felt an inner quiet that I normally don't feel before any race of any distance, and was in a very peaceful mood. I just looked around and people-watched, enjoyed watching Elizabeth and Shirley people-watch, and hoped maybe Paula would get there before I started. She had driven back to Indianapolis Saturday to perform in a chorus concert Saturday night, and got back very early Sunday morning. She grabbed a couple of hours of sleep at a friend's place, and was coming in to find me before the race. She finally found us, about ten minutes before the start.

THE SWIM
The gun went off for the pro start, and we all gawked at their amazingly fast swim past us. Then it was our turn. The line was starting to move. Guess I'm really going to do this thing, huh? Wow. Can't believe it's finally here, after two years of planning and training. Holy crap.

Exchanged hugs with everyone, then the swimmers started our traipse down to the dock. The swim start went very smoothly, with people getting in quickly. I hopped in and started swimming. The Zen-like peacefulness stayed with me, and I had (for me) a wonderful swim. It felt great, comfortable, and not a struggle at all. Got smacked a few times, did my own share of smacking and crawling up over people, and was at the turnaround before I knew it. Yippee! Now I get to swim with the current -- let's hope it helps me out!

It did, and eventually I saw the final red buoy up ahead, signaling the finish. Wow. Really? I still didn't feel tired, was just getting a little bored with swimming and ready to move on to something else. Ok, it's show time. The first of a day of amazing volunteers helped us out of the water, I took a few slower steps to make sure I wasn't lightheaded from being horizontal for so long, and trotted off to transition. Honey Badger is out of the water!

Projected swim time: 2:00. Actual swim time: 1:44:03. Fabulous!

THE BIKE
Another volunteer handed my bike bag to me and I headed to the changing tent, where yet another volunteer immediately asked if I needed water or anything else and began helping me sort out my stuff. While I was in there, a conversation was going on about someone having CPR on the dock at the swim start. Uh oh. Apparently this happened right after I had gotten in the water. No one knew anything, but something bad had obviously happened. Damn. Hate it when someone's day goes so terribly wrong.

The volunteers in the changing tent are wonderful! They pick up your bag, start pulling stuff out of it and handing it to you. A volunteer was walking around offering tampons, and two of us laughed and talked about how happy we were not to have to be fooling with that nonsense today! I had packed a little towel and dried my feet off, pulled on my socks and shoes, helmet, drank a Shakelology, and headed out of the tent. There, yet another wonderful volunteer slathered me thoroughly in sunscreen. What a treat!

Easily found my bike and headed out for a very long ride...still feeling strong and calm. Wow, is this for real? Gave a thumbs-up to everyone, and took off.

Projected transition time: 15:00. Actual T1 time: 12:35.

As promised, the bike started out easy and got harder fast. The serious hills began around mile 18(?) or so, and never let up. However, I still felt great, and was thrilled to reach the first timing mat at 23 miles in an hour and 23 minutes. I was embracing the Endurance Nation philosophy of saving it for later, and was very pleased with how I felt. I'm not a strong cyclist and have definitely not done nearly as much riding as I should have, so I knew the hills would challenge me. I fully expected to have to walk up one or two. Much to my pleasant surprise, even when I was cursing the hills between miles 70-80, I was able to not only stay on the bike, but stay seated all but once. The only time I had to walk was when a series of cars refused to pass us as several of us were going up a hill, and didn't leave me any room to safely get by.

A cyclist was down at mile 20 by the side of the road, but someone else was waiting with them and the aid wagon was arriving just as I went by, so I kept going. Passed a lot of people with some sort of issue, be it flats, unhappy stomach, tired, whatever. There were aid stations approximately every 10 miles, so I stopped and stood up at every one. Twice I got off to use the portajohns. Once again, the volunteers were amazing. If you pulled over, there was immediately someone there offering to bring you water, electrolyte drink, banana, gel, whatever. For the portajohns, someone would grab your bike and hold it while you took care of business, then offer to bring you stuff. Wow.

Pulled over at the special needs stop around mile 65 and drank another Shakeology, and asked what time it was (there were no clocks on the course). It was 2:00. The bike course cutoff was mile 61 by 2:30, so plenty of time there. The volunteer captain told me that they were discussing extending the total race cutoff by a few minutes, due to the delay at the swim start. I asked how the guy was doing, and the volunteer just said "not good." Oh crap. Not another race where someone dies because they didn't know they had a heart condition. Sobering.

Held it together on the bike really well, just staying in easy gears and grabbing all the downhill free speed I could muster. I hauled it down the hills and crept up in granny gear. Oh well, I wasn't killing my legs, either. The crotch held up pretty well until mile 80 or so, then it began getting pretty uncomfortable. Only 32 miles to go, I can deal. Everyone had talked about how the last 20 miles were downhill, so I was looking forward to that.

All those people lied. Sure, if you look at the elevation chart it's all downhill, but reality isn't quite that pleasant. There's also a stretch of concrete road where there's seams every so many yards, and when you go over those seams you get bumped in the...yeah. If anyone had been near me it would have been hilarious, I'm sure. Every time I hit one of those seams, I was grunting and yelping with pain. It hurt, but it was even funny to me. What really kept me cranking was the thought that I was NOT going to do this again, so I had better make all the cutoffs and finish this darned thing!

FINALLY I see the Louisville skyline, and eventually see the volunteer pointing me to the dismount line. Thank gawd. SO happy to get off the bike. You regular century riders can keep it. I have no interest in spending that much time on a bike again. Anything over 3-4 hours is for the birds. Bleah.

Very happily got off the bike (and handed it to a volunteer who racked it for me), then realized I couldn't take a step in my bike shoes. One of them apparently was hitting a nerve, and walking on it was impossible. Didn't bother me at all on the bike, but walking was out of the question. Once again, the amazing volunteer realized I was trying to take off my shoes, and he said, "Let me do that for you. You don't need to bend over just yet." My hero. Walked down to transition in my socks, anxious to get back out on the road...on my FEET.

Projected bike time: between 7-8 hours, hopefully closer to 7. Actual time: 8:04:21.

THE RUN
Back to the changing tent I go. The volunteer once again pulled all of my stuff out and handed it to me one by one, and grabbed stuff as I was removing it and put it in the bag. We chatted a bit while she hovered to make sure I was ok. Asked her the time, and it was around 5:30. Damn. I really wanted to be back by 4:30. There goes another hour of cushion for the run. Oh well, get moving. Drank another Shakeology (dinner!) and headed out for more sunscreen. Wow, I still feel really good. Tired, but good. What gives? I'll take it.

Projected transition time: 15:00. Actual transition time: 14:26.

Said hi to my Honey Badger Crew, made it clear that I hate the bike, and started a slow jog. I was too tired to properly run any distance, but wasn't too tired to run a minute, walk a minute. Oh my, this is gonna take forever. Will I make it? I only have 6.5 hours to cover 26.2 miles. Yikes. I was really angry with myself for putting myself in a potential bind to make the cutoff, so I shortened the walking breaks to maybe 30-45 seconds.

...and passed the "Mile 1" sign before I knew it. Really?? Already? Wow. Maybe this won't take as long as I thought! There are two loops to the course. You do one loop, come within a block of the finish line, make a right, and head out for 12 more miles. I was hoping to hit that corner by 8:00pm. Before I knew it, I was there. Found my crew again, asked what time it was. "23 after!" "After EIGHT??" "Yeah!" Are you serious? Well hot damn, how did that happen? I now had 3.5 hours to cover 12 miles. Piece o' cake.

Kept up the run/walk routine, kept passing people that I never saw again, and soon I was at the 25-mile mark. WOW. I'm really gonna do this thing, it's really not gonna be a suckfest, and I'm really enjoying the hell out of it. What's wrong with this picture? Can everything be falling into place this nicely? I mean, everything? Not one thing went wrong, really. Pinching myself the last mile, I decided I was going to thoroughly enjoy that finish chute.

THE FINISH
Rounded that last corner, was blinded by the bright lights, walked to the start of the finish chute. Hit the chute, then took off in a sprint. Enjoyed the crowd noise, heard the announcer say it was my 50th birthday, did some high-fives with people as I went by, and smiled like a fool when I heard "Carla Happel, you are an Ironman!" Holy. Shit. I did it. AND IT DIDN'T SUCK. Am I dreaming?

Got my medal, another volunteer was immediately at my side guiding me through the finish area, found my crew and hugged them, got my finish cap and shirt. Paula handed me the most obnoxiously large helium birthday balloon ever and a dozen roses, and I got the finisher pic with those. Awesome!

Oh, did I mention that Macca (Chris McDonald) put my medal on me? How cool. That man is amazing. He won this race in 8:27:36. Inhuman.

We wandered around looking for some milk or something not-solid to eat, I spoke with my parents, then we went and watched some more finishers for about another 45 minutes. That was the best. These were all the people I had passed on the run course, who had just been too tired to even try running, and it was great to see them perk up, run in, and smile.

After that, the first order of business was a hot shower...

Projected run time: 6:00. Actual run time: 5:33:04

My total race time was 15:48:29...about 45 minutes faster than I had hoped.

Guess I'm an Ironman now, huh? Sure does feel good.

Tracking information for Race Day

Here are some options for tracking my progress on Sunday.
My bib number is 602.

This one is through Ironman, and they don't have a good track record at all with this. Sometimes it works, sometimes not. Maybe there won't be any sunspots on Sunday and it will work.
http://www.ironmanlive.com
There should be a clear link to "Ironman Louisville".

This one is through Endurance Nation, whose training plan I've been using, and should be much more dependable.
http://www.endurancenation.us/en_data/Races/AthleteTracker/im/race/2011/IMLOU

Both of these should update as I cross the various timing mats. Mats are located here:

• At end of swim - Will be entering water between 7-7:45
• Beginning of bike - when I leave transition after the swim.
• (Ironmanlive.com) Miles 42 and 70
  (Endurance Nation) Miles 30 and 86
• End of bike - Mile 112
• Beginning of run - when I leave transition after the bike
• (Ironmanlive.com) Mile 13.1
  (Endurance Nation) Mile 12.1
• FINISH!

Estimated times:

• Swim: I will be entering the water anywhere between 7:15-7:45, and will likely be in the water for 2 hours.
• T1: Hope to take no longer than 15 minutes in transition.
• Bike: Probably 7 hours
• T2: Hope to take no longer than 15 minutes...
• Run: 6 hours

I expect the vast majority of you will be in bed sound asleep when I finish!

Tapering...a week out

(Written Monday, August 22)

Two years ago, while volunteering at Ironman Louisville, I realized that it would land on my 50th birthday. Then and there I decided how I was going to celebrate. Those two years have flown by, and the race is now five days away. Where did the time go? It's hard to believe that I'm going to do an Ironman THIS WEEKEND.

Wow. I'm trying to make sure I don't forget anything. Made a list of race-day nutrition and planned how to pack all of my race bags. In addition to what I want to carry on the bike, I have to pack four bags for use during the race:

T1 (Transition 1): between swim and bike
Special Needs #1: around mile 56 of the bike
T2 (Transition 2): between bike and run
Special Needs #2: around mile 13 of the run

Also figured out breakfast, and what I'll carry with me that morning to drink/eat in the two hours of waiting before the swim. Lots of planning! There will be food and water out on the course, but not the protein drinks that I want.

Found out a few days ago that Lousville has an underwear run. This has been a tradition in Kona forever; I didn't realize any of the other Ironman races did it. I have the perfect pair in mind for this one. You'll just have to wait for pictures.

http://louisvilleunderpantsrun.com/
Warning: The video on the right will require Kleenex.

Did a sprint tri this past Saturday and ran into several people I know. Some asked about my taper and how it was going. For those who may not know, tapering is the period of time before a race where you back off training and let the body rest and recover. I know from personal experience that if I back WAY off and fully rest up, the more rested and ready I feel on race day and the better my race experience. I kicked off the three-week taper with an olympic-distance tri, and went downhill from there. Anyway, many people report feeling antsy during this period, like they need to be/should be working out. Two people asked if I was feeling antsy, and I had to answer a resounding "no"! I have fully enjoyed the rest time, and plan on enjoying what's left of it. Gawd knows I am expending mental energy like nobody's business, just trying to focus on real-life things like work while constantly running through my race-day plan...and counting down the days!

For every lousy race, there's several good ones

My previous post whined about a tough race and trying to find an explanation for it. It was quite discouraging to turn in such a poor performance, but I had to let it go and assume things would only improve.

And they did.

This past weekend was a redemption of sorts. Saturday began with a trail half-marathon on a very tough course (see elevation profile below). In addition to the many ups and downs, the first and last mile involved a lot of climbing/stepping over logs, making it tough to get a rhythm going. I'm relatively new to trail running, so I'm sure it was harder for me than for more experienced folks, but I heard a lot of comments about its difficulty as people came in and cooled down.

Unfortunately, I started the day by rolling my ankle before hitting mile 1. I have no idea what I stepped on (or didn't), but it wasn't a log, root, rock, or anything so obvious. It must have looked bad because the woman right behind me sounded concerned and asked if I was ok. Yes, I'm fine, I just need to get out of everyone's way for about 10 seconds, get pissed, shake it off, and start moving again. After about 30 seconds of fast walking, it felt ok to run again. Soon I forgot about it, other than making a mental note not to screw up and twist it again. Three weeks before Ironman is NOT the time to injure myself

The rest of the race was uneventful and quite nice, if challenging. It felt good to be out running in the woods, and it was easy to enjoy the hot, humid day. Didn't even mind the fact that my clothes were so full of condensation that they were sticking to my body. The trail was an out-and-back, so it was fun to people-watch the runners on their way back and hope that I looked that good. It was a 13.1 mile loop; I did one for the half, marathoners did it twice.

Finished with a decent (for me) time of 3:04, about 40 minutes slower than my typical road half, as expected. Washed off in the misting tent, changed back into my "official" Planet Adventure shirt, and took over the timing. Forgot about the ankle until around 3:00, when it started mildly complaining about not having been elevated yet. Oh well, it was fun to watch the marathoners come in, some looking more beat-up than others, and be grateful I had only done the half! Got home later and made sure to put the foot up and ice it, and passed out very early, sometime around 8:30pm.

Sunday's 5:00am alarm went off much too soon! Got up and headed downtown to TriIndy, a really fun event right in downtown Indianapolis. Back in the 1830's, before railroads had caught on, there was a plan to build a canal right down the middle of Indiana. Only a few miles were built before rail transport rendered the project moot. A three-mile stretch is downtown, and has been developed into a very nice park. Three or four years ago someone was finally able to put together a triathlon that used the canal. It's a really unique venue and it's a lot of fun to do a race right in the middle of town.

Both a tri and a du were offered; I chose to do a duathlon this time, consisting of a 2 mile run, 20K bike, and 5K run. It was actually kind of nice not to have to fool with the additional step of swimming! The day was incredibly humid, with fog hanging so low that most of the buildings downtown were hidden. Saw a lot of people I knew and had a good time chatting with some of them. Ankle felt a little tender walking from the car to the race, but figured what the heck. If it was a problem, I could always stop.

As it turned out, the ankle was a complete non-issue. Running on the stable concrete/asphalt surface felt great, and biking didn't seem to irritate it at all. Had a good race with possibly my best bike performance ever, and thoroughly enjoyed the morning. Finished in a respectable 1:35:14, good enough for third in my age group.

Finished the weekend with a nice brunch and better beer at Granite City, then spent the rest of the day with the foot up and an ice pack on it. Am thrilled to report that Monday morning, most of the swelling is gone and there is still no bruising, and I'm not really going to lose any training time. Hooray for small favors!

19 days to go.

*Eagle Creek Trail Half and Full Marathon by Planet Adventure Racing
*TriIndy by Tuxedo Brothers

Bump(s) in the road...

This past Saturday (July 16) I did an olympic distance tri (the Summit Lake Optimist tri, in a town about an hour away from Indy), the same distance as last Sunday . However, I had a vastly different day, despite the lack of a 68-mile bike ride the day before. Why?

The swim was advertised as 1500 yards, but a friend's GPS tells us it was closer to 1.3 miles, allowing for some error. That was ok, though, it was still cloudy and reasonably temperate, and the water was 81 degrees or so. The swim, while my typical slow creep, felt good. After that, things began to go downhill.

After taking my time in transition and sucking down a gel, I left on the bike. The first 15-20 mins on the bike are usually no fun, so it was no surprise to feel sluggish at the start. However, I never stopped feeling sluggish. The legs felt heavy, the body just wanted to crawl back into that nice comfortable bed that I had left at 4:30 am. Hmmm. It was only a 25-mile ride, but it felt like forever (and my time reflected that). The rough and bumpy road didn't help the disposition any, either. About half way through, the clouds dispersed and things started heating up, but it wasn't too miserable. Yet. Was happy to return to transition and choke down another gel, and get going on the run.

The run was even more pathetic than normal, 15 minutes slower than my usual trudge. By now the sun was baking everything, and there was scant shade on the run course. I didn't hurt or feel exactly tired, I just had no energy. When I was able to trudge it was at a decent pace, but I had to walk more than usual. I never felt energized. Even in the hardest races, I have moments of feeling energetic. Not this time. I finally finished in an abysmal time, but finished.

So what went wrong? I hydrated enough, I think. I got plenty of sleep the few nights before. Hmmm. I got enough rest last week so it wasn't due to a heavy training load. Maybe it was just a bad day? But why?

Pre-race nutrition looks to be the culprit. In the hot weather, I tend not to eat as much. My appetite has been down for the last couple of weeks. The night before Sunday's fabulous race last week, I had a very nice meal of steak, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. And wine (but I doubt that contributed to the positive day). This week, I don't even remember what I ate Friday, as it was nothing substantial or memorable. I don't think I ate a real "meal" with a plate of several items. OK, that's a start. Now what about race-day morning?

I got up at 4:30 and ate my usual bowl of oatmeal with some dried fruit in it. That was good. However, I didn't start swimming until about 8:10 or so, almost four hours later. I brought a protein shake with me, but in my morning grogginess had left it in the car. The car was parked some distance from transition, and I didn't remember the shake until we were lining up to get into the water, when I realized I was hungry. D'oh!

While I tried to hydrate on the bike and run, apparently I didn't. The lack of a need to pee until 2pm tells me that I didn't take in enough liquid, even though it felt like it at the time. This week I'm forcing myself out into the heat to practice what I've learned and try to get adjusted to the temps. Saturday is a sprint tri, which won't be nearly as tough but a good workout nonetheless. Hopefully there will be no more repeats of last Saturday!

Lessons learned July 16, 2011:

• Eat. Eat in the days before the race, eat the day of the race. Don't forget to drink the protein shake before the race (usually my ritual).
• Hydrate more than seems necessary. Make sure to drink all of the protein/carb mix on the bike.  Take a gel on the bike, even if it is only a 25-miler.

*Thanks to Steve Tomboni of Muncie Multisport for putting on another good race!

Counting down to Ironman: 45 days to go

The countdown decreases; the antsiness increases. I'm finally feeling like maybe this isn't a totally crazy thing and I'll be coherent at the finish!

Last week was a confidence-boosting workout week. Thursday night, I did 2 hours (with a break after an hour) on the bike trainer, then 45 minutes Friday morning before work. Had planned on a long ride Saturday, but had no idea where I was going to go. Then Nebo Ridge (a local bike shop) sent a newsletter with info about a nice ride down in Brownstown, the Round Barn ride. Very casual, no pressure, pick your distance of 32, 67, or 81 miles. I didn't get down there until 9am and didn't want to be out past the SAG support time of 2pm, so I did the 67 miles. The route was very well indicated with marks on the street, which is a good thing since the map was so fuzzy/indistinct as to be merely a guidepost. Other than two outrageous hills of 1 mile each (which I walked up), it was a very pleasant course.

All of the interesting stops were within the first 30 miles. There were two round barns, a general store, and a just-renovated covered bridge, noted to be the longest in North America. At each stop were very friendly locals who were eager to share the landmark's story, and all of whom probably thought we were crazy for taking the bike instead of the car. Each had blessedly cold water, bananas, and other assorted snacks. It was very nice and relaxing.

The last SAG (water stop) was at 38 miles, though, so that last 30 got pretty tough. All of us were talking about that as we came in. It got REALLY hot here this past weekend, with temps in the high 90's.

To add to the fun, as I was blasting down one of the outrageous hills at 34-35mph (only because that's how outrageous the hill was, not due to any particular skill on my part), I hit a crappy patch job that bounced the bike around and my car key worked itself up and out of my bento box. I heard it ping very resonantely as it bounced god knows where. I stopped (as quickly as is safely possible on a bike going 30+ mph) and walked a ways back looking for it. It was hopeless. I'm sure it's in the weeds by the side of the road somewhere. Thankfully the cell phone stayed put, and a friend had planned on driving down after work anyway (she was working some overtime), so I called her and asked her to please bring my other car key.

I managed to ration my water and tolerate the heat for the last 30 miles. The last 20 I thought, "thank goodness I don't have to run after this," and was quite happy to pull up back at the school where it all started. Of course, I was so tired that I had trouble unclipping one foot and went over like the guy in the shopping cart on Laugh-In. Nothing hurt but got a colorful bruise on the hip. Oh well.

Hung around in the shade for another hour and a half waiting for my car key to arrive. After many meaningful thank you's, we went down to Jeffersonville, which is literally right across the river from Louisville, and picked up the packet for Sunday's tri. Found a hotel within walking distance of the race start, then went into Louisville to use our Groupon for the Maker's Mark restaurant. Had a fabulous salad/steak/bottle of wine, then passed out. At the hotel, not at the restaurant. I know wine and steak isn't a commonly-recommended pre-race meal, but didn't care and it didn't seem to affect me the next day.

Sunday morning's 5am alarm came much too early. I drug myself of bed, ate breakfast, and walked over to the race site. This race was interesting. They had shuttle busses take us across the river to the Ironman swim start, and we swam across the Ohio back to Indiana. It was different. I'm still ridiculously slow but it felt pretty good. I ended up not doing the full bike course due to some volunteer/racer confusion. I completely spaced that it was a two-loop course, and when I came back from the first loop, the volunteers weren't really paying attention. They yelled to someone in front of me, but I couldn't hear what they said. I asked where to go, was told to "go right here", but when I started turning right they yelled at me "no no no go this way". One asked if I had reached the turnaround point. Well yeah, that's how I got back here, and he pointed me towards the finish. Oh well. The run was my usual slog but felt ok. Even if I'd done the full bike course I still would have had a great finish time, and I felt good during the race. Not nearly as tired as I feared I might be after Saturday's hot and long ride.

Had a couple of free beers and half a buffalo burger, then went to see a friend who lives nearby. Napped about an hour, woke up ravenously hungry, ate the rest of the burger and socialized a while. We ate a light dinner later, then I drove back home.

As with any new experience, I learned a few things.

• Zip the car key securely into the tool bag hanging under the bike seat.
• Eat more on the bike. Saturday, all I had was a couple of gels and a couple of bananas (and lots of water). The protein/carb drink that I carried with me helped, but I didn't eat nearly enough food. The oatmeal breakfast wore off long before the ride was done.
• Pay more attention to the race course BEFORE the race!

Though I have a ways to go with the training, I'm feeling much better about it after this past weekend. I don't hurt anywhere, and am no more tired than any other day, and that's encouraging. Maybe this Ironman thing won't kill me after all!

Six weeks, six races

So I got a wild hair this year, and decided to do six races in six weeks and see what happened. Five were half-marathons, one was a half-iron tri. The race schedule was this:

Indy 500 Mini-Marathon	May 7
Rev3 Knoxville half-iron tri	May 15
Geist Run Around the Reservoir	May21
Boston's Run to Remember	May 29
Hospital Hill Run (Kansas City)	June 4
Carmel Half Marathon	June 11

Overall, things went quite well. I did a PR at the first race, the Indy Mini, beating my previous best by 30 seconds. Not much, but I'll take it!

The second race, the half-iron triathlon, was a bit of a challenge but overall went fine (see race report here). While it was tough, it felt good to gut it out and finish strong, and it didn't beat me up too badly.

Unfortunately, I caught Paula's kennel cough, and woke up sick the day of the third race, Geist. (Geist is a suburb of Indy.) However, knowing that running stops the coughing and clears the head temporarily, I did the race anyway and felt ok. I just took it easy with plenty of walking, and did a respectable 2:23.

The following week I was going to see a dear friend in Boston and do the Run to Remember. However, I was so sick that I lost two days just sleeping it off and wanting it to end. Thankfully the crud abated enough to travel, I had a good visit with my friend, and was able to do the race without really suffering. Of course, I backed off even more and did a 2:27.

Race #5, the Hospital Hill Run, is notorious for its hills. However, it was not the hills that were challenging so much as the horrendously hot and humid weather. (Blow-by-blow race report is here.) By mile 2-3, pretty much everyone had thrown out their time goals and simply wanted to finish. I walked a great deal of this one, and finished with a 2:43.

Week #6, must be Carmel. The inaugural Carmel Half Marathon was in my neighborhood, and it was a treat to be able to walk out my front door, pass up the car, and walk to the start of the race. The day was humid but mild, with temps topping out in the high 60's. It was also a treat to feel well-rested and not vaguely sick. I did a respectable (for me) 2:19:38. A sign of improvement was a PR at both the 5K and 10K distances - I averaged around 9:30 miles, which for me is huge, and to be able to maintain that pace for just under an hour is a milestone. Progress! The course was interesting, volunteers terrific, and a very well-done inaugural race.

The tri training took a hit, mostly due to being sick/traveling for the better part of two weeks. Up through Knoxville, I was able to keep training pretty well and regularly. The week between Knoxville and Geist I trained, but not as much and definitely backed off, trying to recover. Little did I know that I was trying not to get sick. The entire next week was lost to getting well, and the following week was lost to traveling back home then traveling for work (while still trying to get well). However, it seems the hot-as-blazes Hospital Hill run finally cleansed the system, as that was the first time I felt like training hard since getting sick.

Throughout all of this I have been concentrating on modifying my running form, focusing on a mid-foot strike instead of a heel strike. I think the results vindicate my efforts: race #6's time really wasn't any slower than the typical race for me, and the first part was actually faster than ever. I didn't go into it expecting to PR, yet was well on track for the first 6 miles. I've remained injury-free. The backs of my legs are definitely tighter than normal, as my body adjusts to the changes in foot placement, but that's to be expected and is relatively easy to manage with massages and stretching.

And I can't forget to mention the ongoing adjustments by my fabulous chiropractor, Dr. Drew Hoffman, and Dave Reed's magic MAT (muscle activation technique) work! Those two guys have kept me intact.

Conclusion? My body can indeed handle this schedule. I got sick not because I was over-tired, but because I was in close quarters for several days with someone who was ultimately much sicker than I ever got. Would I have gotten sick anyway without the racing? I don't know for sure, but my gut says most likely yes. Did I lose some valuable training time? Maybe, but I don't think so, not really. I have ADD with some things, and training is one of them. If I don't mix it up, I quickly get bored. I'm feeling surprisingly refreshed by the hiatus from tri-training, and now feel ready to hit it hard through Ironman Louisville.

And heck, I got six pretty cool medals too!

This weekend, three days of tri camp...

No puking allowed

Hospital Hill Run, Kansas City, MO
June 4, 2011

This was half-marathon #38, and it may well have been the most difficult. Not due to lack of training, not because of the notoriously hilly course, not because of illness: not for any of the usual reasons.

It was hot and humid. Really hot. Really humid. For maybe the second day this spring, so very few of the 7000-or so participants had acclimated yet. Normally by this time it's been warm enough to be uncomfortable and to get the body used to some warmer runs. Not this year. I was far more concerned about the heat than about the hills, and it turned out my concern was well-founded. The hills really weren't unreasonable. There was one that was ridiculous, but it was very very short. The rest would have been quite do-able on a normal day.

This wasn't a normal day for most of us. It was 81 degrees when we parked the car at 6am. No clouds were to be seen, promising a very quick warmup. It was also quite humid, but it took me awhile to figure that out. I only realized it around mile 5, when it occurred to me that all the water I had poured over myself (in an attempt to cool down) was not evaporating. Shirt and shorts stayed soaking wet and dripping for the entire time we were outside.

Somewhere between miles 2 and 3, I think there was a collective decision to throw out any time expectations, and simply hope to finish without cramping, puking, or passing out. Everyone I spoke to, and there were quite a few since we were all walking anyway, had given up on achieving any particular time goal. It was clearly going to be a 13.1-mile sufferfest, so everyone hunkered down and kept moving forward, at any pace. Several wonderful people along the course brought out sprinklers and set them up in the street. Two more angels at miles 7-ish and 11-ish brought out tubs of ice for us to grab and put under our hats. Those people were genuinely appreciated. The ridiculous-but-short hill was, of course, at mile 12. There was a construction project at the top, and one of the construction workers was standing on the fourth floor with a hose, spraying us as we trudged by. He was wonderful!

I walked for a while with very nice guy named Eric, who was running to honor his brother who was two years' clean from various addictions. He wanted to show his brother that it was possible to make a major life change -- he'd only been running since his brother got clean. He had actually run this course several times in cooler weather, but the heat was more than he could handle, and he'd given up on making his time goal. I think he felt better when I told him that I was usually two miles further down the road at this point (mile 10 or so). I finally was able to attempt to jog some more after about half a mile, so said goodbye and went on my way.

I was able to trot the last few tenths of a mile to the finish, but after crossing the finish line I immediately had to find some shade and sit down before gravity pulled me down. This was the closest I have come to thinking I might actually pass out. It took about 10 minutes of sitting in the shade to cool down enough to feel like standing up again. Our little group of five gradually found each other and agreed that this one was no fun. We all expected hard, but even in the hardest races there is a sort of perverse pleasure in simply doing the distance. Not today. I seriously doubt I will be interested in attempting this one again, even though I would like to try the hills in cooler weather. Water stops were every 1.5 miles; in weather like this every mile might have helped. I took Gatorade and water at every stop, and took some electrolyte capsules a couple of times.

After a quick shower I was dropped at the airport. I ran into another group who did the same race, and they also felt the same way. No fun, just happy to finish without getting sick. But it was a heck of a training session! The hardest 2:43 and medal I have ever earned. I seriously doubt I will want the race pictures though...

Flying and thunderstorms don't mix

Ahhh the Monday morning alarm clock. Couldn't stop myself from whimpering a bit, but managed to only snooze for 10 minutes before getting up. Usually, Mondays aren't QUITE this bad, but this past weekend was jam-packed with everything but sleep.

Last week I was in Kansas City for work, and stayed to run the Hospital Hill half marathon with a co-worker and some other friends. We had the usual early-morning routine of getting up before the sun and driving down to beat the traffic. So far so good. But I knew it was going to be a tough day when I saw the time/temp sign at the bank: 81 degrees at 6am. And only going to get warmer.

The five of us managed to finish the 13-mile slogfest without collapsing, puking, or cramping, so we all considered it a smashing success (race report is coming later). We congratulated each other for finishing, then parted ways.

After a quick shower I was delivered to the airport, with a few hours to kill. No problem. KCI has free wi-fi, so I surfed and caught up on email. Sadly, the people-watching was depressing, so that wasn't really an option. My plane left as scheduled, and I was looking forward to grabbing my 15-minute flight from Chicago and getting home by 8pm. Still early enough to relax, have a beer, and catch a decent night's sleep.

Chicago's flight was delayed because our cockpit crew was late from somewhere in California. Only a half-hour, nothing to be worried about. 30 minutes becomes 45, we finally board the plane, and everyone is settling in, happy to be heading home. Except...a horrendously bad, dangerous, and large thunderstorm is sitting right over Indianapolis. Lovely. We are going to sit in Chicago and wait it out. Thankfully we were still at the gate and free to get off the plane, so it's not nearly as bad as it could have been.

Three and a half hours later, we are all herded back onto the plane. The door closes, then reopens. It was just a tease. We sit another ten minutes or so, then they close the door for real. Apparently this storm is seriously pounding the entire area, and many flights are ending in Ft. Wayne or Louisville, neither of which is desirable. Our 7pm flight departs at 10:45 or so (Central time; Indy is on Eastern time), and we literally fly 18 minutes before descending into Indianapolis. It's clear they weren't joking about the weather, as we are surrounded by lots and lots of very bright lightning and heavy rain. There is a collective sigh of relief when we land.

Only now...the ramp is closed. The lightning is so intense that it's not safe for the workers to be out there. At least we're sitting in a grounded container, so we're safe. We sit for a while, watch the pretty weather, and lust for our respective beds. Everyone is totally fried and trying not to be cranky (I failed at the cranky part). At last we pull up to the jetway, the door opens to much applause, and we are released from the torture. Kudos to Southwest for handling a really lousy situation with humor and grace. They were incredibly accommodating and did everything they could to make it less painful.

So I finally arrive at home around 12:45 or so, knowing that I have to be up butt-early Sunday to go work at a bike criterium (a series of races, good definition here) that lasts all day. I manage to carve out an extra 1.5 hours to sleep, so don't have to show up until 9am. Hallelujah! Sleep is a wonderful thing, especially with a cat nearby. Two of us work the race all day (which is actually a heck of a lot of fun), help tear down, and are done by 7-ish. The group of us went for a celebratory meal before heading home to bed.

Today I'm drinking strong coffee and feeling a bit groggy from the weekend. But it was fun! Except for the flying/thunderstorm part.

When surviving is good enough

This past Sunday I completed my fourth half-iron distance triathlon, the Rev3 Knoxville. It was by far my hardest half. I learned some valuable things.

• "Rolling hills" at the base of the Smokies are NOT the same thing as "rolling hills" in the cornfields of Indiana.
• The mind truly is more powerful than the body.
• Cross-training works.
• Sweepers are amazing human beings.

The day started ok, with a (relatively late) wake-up of 5am. Ate two packets of instant oatmeal with raisins and drank a Muscle Milk, then headed down to transition to set up. Transition was a few blocks from the hotel/finish line, but not very far. It looked like the weather gods might actually smile for the day. Thundershowers were predicted, but it wasn't looking ominous, and the temp was around 60. Not bad.

Got transition all set up, then wandered down to the swim start to watch the pros have at it. Those folks are superhuman and very impressive to see in action. The swim was in a controlled stretch of the Tennessee River, so all the recent rain and flooding didn't affect us...except for keeping the water a nippy 65 degrees. I drank half of a Shakeology drink (protein, carbs) while waiting for my wave. We jumped off a dock in groups, treaded water for a few minutes, then prepared to swim upstream for a bit before heading back downstream to the swim exit. I jumped in, woke up very quickly, then thought, "well, it's not as cold as Chicago was".

It wasn't until the horn blew and I actually had to start swimming that I realized something was wrong. Normally I adjust pretty quickly to the temp, and can at least pretend to be swimming by the time the race starts. Not today. I couldn't get my heart rate to slow down or my breathing to settle down, even after I stopped feeling cold. My body was just not gonna play today. The swim was a pathetic mix of sidestroke while panting and 50-100 yd bursts of actual swimming. It was truly awful. Didn't feel bad, just could not find any kind of rhythm, ever. I'm sure the people on the kayaks were totally disgusted, wondering why the heck people signed up for these races if they didn't know how to swim. After a miserable hour of floundering, I finally reached the exit. Thank goodness. Maybe the bike will be better.

Took my time in transition, used the porta-john, said hello to Paula, dried off my feet and got ready for the bike. Left T1 feeling pretty good, deceiving myself that it was going to get easier.

It was better for about 3 miles, then the suckage kicked in again. Knoxville sits wedged between the Cumberland and Smoky mountains. The bike course was quite hilly for those of us used to cornfields. My body decided it was still taking a nap, so when I tried to exert myself, the legs just had no response. Ever have those dreams where you're trying to run through water or mud? That's what it felt like. As I was walking (yes, dammit, walking) the bike up a hill around mile 8 or 9, I was seriously wondering how the heck I was going to do 56 miles feeling this way. Didn't feel bad, didn't feel hungry, definitely wasn't bonking, just didn't.have.any.gas.in.the.tank. It was weird. I met Stephanie The Sweeper after I finally got to the top of that hill and climbed back onto the bike.

For those that don't know, a sweeper is someone who "sweeps" the course, staying with the the last person to help them get through it. So Stephanie cheered me up yet another hill, and finally around mile 12 I was able to pass some people and stay ahead. Stephanie then helped out the poor schmucks I passed. She was excellent, by the way, and really helped keep the mood up. I had already committed myself to trying for the 56 miles when I passed up the Olympic distance turnoff (a 25-mile ride instead). At that point I just had to take the approach of trying to complete a heck of a long training ride, and see how far I could get. I still wasn't certain I would finish, but what the hell. It was time to bond with granny-gear and forget about speed.

The hills went on and on and on. Downhills were a breather, but didn't last very long before it was back to the smallest possible gear and swearing.

Around mile 26 or so, after what felt like an eternity, it stopped being a total suckfest and became a tolerable one. It helped to realize that the cross- and bike-training really had helped, despite my lousy day. I really don't think I could have completed that course last year. I had to walk, again, up the cruel joke at mile 49 and was damned if I was going to walk up any more hills. At mile 53 or so there was yet another bad hill. This time I managed to stay on the bike, saying out loud, "Pull! Pull! Pull!" with every up-stroke, and came very close to puking at the top. But I didn't walk. The final kick-in-the-pants was a strong headwind the last 3 miles or so -- I'm not certain because the bike computer died while I was walking up that first hill back around mile 9.

FINALLY, four hours and nine minutes later, me and a couple of other stragglers crossed back over the river and I could see transition. HOORAY! I never looked more forward to a 13.1 mile run in my life!

Took a little less time in transition, so my T2 was 4:14. Got the heck out of there and on my way. The screaming shins reduced me to a trudge for the first 2 miles, but finally settled down and I was able alternate walk/run. I met a Facebook friend at mile 9 or so, a fellow tri-club member from Indianapolis. We chatted some, we bitched about the bike, and he told me his knees were killing him so he was reduced to walking pretty much the entire thing. But he was doing it! The last couple of miles I slowly gained on some young man and was able to race him through the finish chute. Would have beaten him if the announcer hadn't said "She's gaining on you! Better turn it up!" He had no idea I was behind him. He used his long legs to beat me by about a second, and I turned in a decent (for me) half-marathon time of 2:35:56.

Finished feeling really, really good, with no aches or pains anywhere to speak of. The hips were tired about mile 10 and I know that was from all the hard effort on the bike, but it wasn't anything to be concerned about. We schlepped back to transition, retrieved all my stuff and the bike and headed back to the hotel. A shower and three Advil made everything ok, and we went in search of dinner. Found a nice little place a few blocks away, had a good local brew, and was dead to the world by 9:15.

Overall, not a bad way to spend a day!

Results
Swim 1.2 mile: 1:00:24
T1: 7:06
Bike 56 miles: 4:09:09
T2: 4:14
Run 13.1 miles: 2:35:56
TOTAL: 7:56:51

Challenge yourself!

Yesterday a friend posted this link on Facebook. Please take a look. It's pretty darned fun!

VCA 2010 RACE RUN from changoman on Vimeo.

Crazy, no? And impressive. And suicidal. And all manner of adjectives. Even if you think the cyclists have taken complete leave of their senses, you can't help but admire their skill.

Now, what does this have to do with adventure racing? Nothing. Everything. First, let's figure out what an adventure race is. Wikipedia has a pretty good definition.

"Adventure racing (also called expedition racing) is a combination of two or more endurance disciplines, including orienteering (if an orienteering map is used) and/or navigation (when non-orienteering maps are used), cross-country running, mountain biking, paddling and climbing and related rope skills. An expedition event can span ten days or more while sprints can be completed in a matter of hours."

In short, an adventure race is a treasure hunt for grownups. You don't know the course until the race begins (at which point you are given clues about where you need to go and what you need to do there), and you have a passport that either needs to be punched or signed. You ARE told what you need to bring with you, usually a backpack of various items and a bicycle. You will do a little orienteering, some map-reading, maybe a little canoeing, and lots of cooperating with your teammates.

What's really cool about adventure racing is its flexibility. Some races are short and great for families (Amazing Adventure series), some are longer and a bit more of a challenge (Winter Rogaine), some are in the middle of the city (Urban Sprint), and some are downright crazy (30-hour Challenge).

What does this have to do with that insane video at the top of this post? Several things.

• Both are unusual challenges that most people don't think about doing.
• Both give you sense of accomplishment.
• Both push you out of your comfort zone (always a good thing!).
• Both are a heck of a lot of fun.

The major difference: you do not have to be an accomplished athlete or have a particular skill (like mountain biking through the middle of a city) to enjoy and successfully complete an adventure race. Whew!

So what are you waiting for? Go out and do an adventure race!

(Pics are from the Carmel Amazing Adventure race, July 2010)

Random thoughts for the week

What a wonderful week it's been!

Sunday was a marathon in Austin, Wednesday and Thursday saw measurable improvements on the bike, and this weekend is a long massage. Previous to that I got to spend time with family and good friends.

Random thought #1
Holy crap, did I really do that? This week has been a huge boost to the confidence level regarding attempting an Ironman. I had no idea how I would do attempting a time trial on the 3rd day after a marathon, and it felt great. A time trial is a 20-minute hard ride (on a bike mounted on a trainer), and ours was preceded by a 30-minute warmup. I was quite pleased to see that my mph improved from 15.5 seven weeks ago to 19.5 Weds. Thursday I repeated the fun, this time in an easier gear and spinning faster, and got it up to 21.1mph. Many, many thanks to the folks at Indy Cycling Academy, who kicked my butt hard for the last two months and forced me to improve (or die).

Random thought #2
The marathon taught an interesting lesson about winter running training: don't rely solely on a treadmill. It just doesn't replicate the hardness of pavement. Made it to mile 15 feeling great, then my hips started complaining. Loudly. They were NOT happy. Feet were ok, knees were ok, legs felt fine, but every step hurt the hips. Initially I thought perhaps it was due to the lack of orthotics (first time I've gone this far without them). Being a bit slow on the uptake, several hours later I realized that the last time I ran outside was the San Antonio Rock 'n' Roll half marathon November 14. Four months! Well no WONDER my hips hurt. Yikes. OK, so at minimum, it's worth getting up early to go to the indoor track and run there. I have already invested in a pair of YakTrax for next winter, so ice and snow won't be excuses not to get out.

Random thought #3
Usually in a longer race, I see someone who shames me into working harder, or at least not whining. Not this time: this time it had to come from within. It was time to fall back on my mantra, "I'm glad I can feel pain. I'm glad I can feel pain." For miles 15-26, I thought about our friend T who was in a bad car crash Superbowl Sunday of 2006. Her entire back had been fused many years earlier due to horrible scoliosis, so when she was thrown from the vehicle the only place with any give was her neck. She struggled hard to survive the next four months, and today is still working to regain use of her limbs. Her arms are doing well, but her legs are slow to respond. She is still working to become independent. When I hurt during an event, I think of her, and how the only pain she really feels is nerve pain. I'm sure she'd be happy to feel ordinary overuse pain.

Random thought #4
Life is good.

Visiting the Pain Cave

This week I spent some time in the Pain Cave, that place where endurance athletes tend to dwell. And it's been fabulous!

I know I'm there when I find myself chanting the mantra, "I'd rather it suck now, than during a race. I'd rather it suck now..." The Pain Cave is that special place where, intellectually, you know your body is adapting to stress, you are forcing change to happen, and upon exiting, you will feel its benefits. Non-intellectually you just wish it would end but don't dare stop until it's time. It's a place that demented people like me voluntarily enter on a regular basis, a place dedicated to self-torture...or a tremendous feeling of accomplishment, depending on one's perspective. If I have any hope of completing Ironman Louisville AND not having it be an all-day suckfest, I must spend some serious time in the Cave.

This week's visit began with a 2-hour slog session on a treadmill last Sunday. I suppose I could have run outside, but simply didn't feel like dealing with the cold, the ice, and the slush. (Kudos to those runners who braved the elements: you have my profound respect.) I don't do many long runs, but have a marathon coming up soon (Feb 20), so wanted to visit the Cave before the race. That was followed by a killer bike class three nights in a row, Tues-Thurs. There were also the Weds/Fri morning floggings by my trainer Carrie at the gym (see Wednesday's workout at the bottom of this post).

The bike class is through the Indy Cycling Academy, a couple of guys who really know their stuff. It's on your own bike, on trainers. Each class begins with 30 minutes of core exercises (off the bikes), then we hop on the bikes for an hour of serious sweating. As a dedicated non-cyclist, this class is kicking my butt all over the place. It's a bit like drinking from the fire hose, only harder. If I survive the full two months and don't improve, there is simply no hope.

As for my trainer Carrie, well...she can flog like no other.

The next few days are out in the fresh air, away from the darkness of the Cave. I think a beer is in order.

Wednesday's Full-Body Flogging
Remember, this is all in 30 minutes, with minimal to no rest.

- Run .25 mile on treadmill as fast as possible. Substitute elliptical if necessary.
- Pushups 20x
- Alternating lunges with medicine ball (10lb). Start with medicine ball over head, step forward, bend at elbows and do tri-dip over head with ball. Straighten arms up over head as you return to standing position. 20x
- Alternating lunges with dumbbells (15lb). Do the lunge, return to standing position, then do bicep curl. 20x
- Squat to front-raise. Holding dumbbells (7.5lb), do a squat. While going down into squat, raise arms straight out in front of you. Lower arms as you stand up. 20x

REPEAT ALL

Then REPEAT ALL but do 12x instead of 20x for everything.