Things that make me laugh about racing.

Laughter is always helpful on race day and everyday.  I wanted to share a few jewels I have found. ENJOY!!!

 I would be in last place!

Just Keep Swimming!!!

Unlike most triathletes I love the water.  
I believe swimming was added to triathlon because the running guy and the biking guy wanted something both of them would consider pain stalking.  I also believe you swim first in hopes of not dying- if you swam last then you would be tired and chances of death go up. 

If you know me, even just a little, you know I am not the "normal" triathlete (in lots of ways).  I am one of the few busting at the seams ready to swim at 7am.  I am the girl complaining when there is talk of shortening or canceling a swim- calling it a shame to triathlon (even if it is the safest choice).  I am the girl wanting waves and current and fish and "fun".  I am the one everyone else wants to drown because no one should be happy to go for a swim at 7am. 
Now don't get me wrong there are others who enjoy the swim but most athletes will tell you they simply tolerate the swim as a means to get to the other portions of the race.  
For me swimming is an escape, even in the pool where all you have to stare at is the black lane line.  When I swim I am completely alone, although in the beginning of a race "alone" means  in a washing machine with a thousand other people.  With swimming there is no pain, only the smooth movement of my arms and legs.  There is a set rhythm to breathing and motion.  It is a calm place for me.  Yes, sometimes someone thinks they can come into my calm place, disturbing my peace, but I hold my own.  
I may be a little bit of an aggressive swimmer; I blame the guys I normally swim with for this fault.  You see, if you are the only girl around and they know this by your cap color, boys tend to try to out swim you or cut you short on turns.  I don't take to well to that, but I will let it go and push on- the first time.  The second time normally ends in a elbow- look I don't want to drown out there either and seriously I have been around swimmers who have tried to come over top of me more than once in a race. 
Now that you have a warning about swimming with me, back to swimming for me.  
Since we are in training right now we have been doing a LOT of swimming.  Our pervious one mile swims are now consistently two mile swims.  I know what you are thinking, "Isn't this Ironman in September? And isn't it only 2.4 miles swim?"  
Both true statements.  However, Patrick and I will be completing in long swims in May.  These swims are actually the only race that we do not race together at the same distance and time (barring exclusion due to injury).  Patrick will swim the 10K 3 Mile Bridge Swim (yep a there and back along the bridge); the day prior I will swim a 25k Swim and then be in the water with him on Sunday but only swimming a 5K 3 Mile Bridge Swim.  It turns out the one thing Patrick appears to have little desire to do is swim 15 miles!!  I don't know why :)   
Due to these distances and the gulf/bay being cold, we spend time in the pool.  in recent days we have swum for over 3 hours at a time.  One would think it would get boring, sometimes is does, but then you focus on other things-  sex, work, and Ironman.  Those are Patrick's top three things that seem to repeat on an endless loop while swimming.  The good thing is that by the time the swim is over he knows he can finish the swim at Ironman (in time limits), he has a plan for work tasks for the next week, and well, I won't go into details about how thinking about sex works out.  Every once in a while thoughts about food, television shows, or the state of the world may come to mind.  
While these are often Patrick's thoughts my mind seems to wander in other directions.  First I work out my work frustrations, plan my day, plan my emails, and let things go.  I then move on to house work and grocery list.  Those only keep my attention for a short period of time.  Through out the swim I take time to watch those around me- those in my lane, in the lanes next to me, and depending on where I am in the pool I get to watch the people jump off the diving board.  However, most days now I just hear Mike Rowe's voice, or the voice of the guy announcing the cross country skiing in the Olympics, as they do the play by of my swim.  The two sports casters get especially excited when I pass the person I am sharing a lane with or when i am making my turn to start a new mile.  You may be now thinking I am crazy, but even with my music playing in the background, my mind has to make up a world of motivation.  Imagine a 3 hour drive; now think about all the things you think about on that drive- you know you play the Indy 500 announcements as you pass the little blue haired lady.  We all really do live in the same world- mine is just underwater.  
I guess the story of swimming is- it makes you crazy.  You hear voices, you imagine situations, and you have sensory derivation.  I love this water filled world.   
I will say this when the boat sinks I am swimming to shore; you have fun with waiting for the rescue plane. 

Everyone trains for swim day. 
A great friend Cheryl preparing for kayak support.

Standing on the Sideline

Let's be honest, no one wants to stand on the sidelines on a day they want to be participating, but this is where I found myself for the PBR 1/2 Marathon in January 2014.  I was faced with a new choice: 1) Stay at home and wallow in self pity, or 2) Go out to the race as a volunteer.  I choose to volunteer. 
I had never been on this side of the race course.  It was strange not to line up.  It was difficult to smile and watch everyone stretch and plan.  It was freighting, hoping to not mess up being supportive.

I was tasked with the 1/2 marathon turn around point.  I would be out in the middle of no where, seriously, no where!  Due to race weather being far from ideal- there was cold sideways rain, gusting winds, sand blasting, flooding, and lighting- I would out in the middle of no where ALONE!  Well, there was a nice officer who watched me frolic in the monsoon- he really was a nice guy!  
Now you may be thinking "why"- you guys ask that question a lot. I should say I was out there for the runners, and in a moment this would be the reason I was out there, but in these first minutes I was out there for me.  I was out there because I needed to be there.  I needed to feel a part of a community that I have come to love and adore.  I needed to begin healing my spirit, because more than my foot was broken.  
My healing began not when I clicked on the clock, no it would take a little longer.  About 40 minutes longer in fact.  That's when my healing started, in the moment I saw the first runners.  There I was standing in the sideways rain, cold, and alone, when out from the horizon came purpose.  I was suddenly no longer alone. I suddenly had a purpose- I was there to make sure each person knew they had achieved making it to the point now it was time to turn back and head for the finish line. The runners came in waves, much like the rain.  They showed up with smiles, with grimaces, with heavy breathing, with joy for the opportunity to turn around, and with thanks.  I was there to cheer them on.  I was there standing in the same rain, same wind, for them, letting them know I believed they could make it back, because they made it here.  
I know for many of you this will sound foolish; how could it mean so much to stand there?  It made me appreciate more than ever those who stand there for me. Those who stand there till the last runner passes by.  Those who smile and cheer and make us laugh.  Those who spend there day to keep us safe.  
I have always been one to say thank you on the course, but now it has a different meaning.  Not just thank you for being here, but thank you for believing in every runner. 
That day after the last runner had gone by I packed up and drove slowly back to the finish line.  I screamed from my jeep words of encouragement.  I handed in my clock and marched to the final turn to cheer the runners in to the finish, to let them know that when I said they could make it I believed it.
To see them smile at mile 13 was a gift.  Especially to see Patrick smile at mile 13.  To be there for him along the way was the greatest gift, because I know I would not be here doing this without him.
Volunteering for this event helped me to be a better participant and a better person. 

Side Note as to maybe why this matters so much to me:  In July 2013, I was asked by my nephew, "Why do you say that?" After saying thank you to a police officer on a race course, for about the 10th time that day.  My answer to him was two fold, first because of his and others services to our community and our country; second because he came out on this day to keep us safe and to be here for us.

Curse or Blessing- Das Boot

 After we got registered for IMCHOO I jokingly told Patrick, "If we are going to get hurt this is the time, so we can heal."  I guess my body thought I was talking to it because within 2 months of being registered I felt maybe I did "something" to my foot. Upon finishing the Half Marathon, my foot was sore.  Over the next few weeks it was just not right.  With advice from friends and a loaner boot from a few athlete I started to wear a boot just during the day, when I felt I was moving the most.  I continued to walk on my foot at the house.
I continued to run some but spent most of my time on my mountain bike due to discomfort.  After a four mile run my foot was swollen and painful.  So with Patrick gone I went to the Urgent Care to get an xray done. Yeah, that was not helpful. They tried to give me pain meds and send me home.  I didn't take the medications and instead called my orthopedic surgeon (from my knee surgeries) and made appointments to go see my primary care.  After an appointment with my primary care where I was told, "Urgent Care facilities aren't for people like you." (I am still not sure if this is good or bad).  I was pointed towards Dr. Brooks who was able to get me in the office on Christmas Eve.  He confirmed there was a fracture of the second metatarsal.  Of course there were tears of frustration.  After what I am sure was a "why too long conversation" the doctor hooked me up with a boot for 4 weeks- in hopes Double Bridge would still be possible but I would have to give up the PBR Half Marathon.  
I walked to a first place finish in our Make It To The Line 4 mile event.  I volunteered for the PBR, at the Half Marathon turn around. And I completed my 13.1 mile walk the following Sunday. I spun and swam.  I felt good. So I was glad on the follow up appointment to hear, "it's healing. You can try to run."  I ran one mile that week, fearful of something going wrong.  Then 9.3 at Double Bridge.  I felt good after the event.  However on Super Bowl Sunday I started to feel some pain.  I went out for a run, within a quarter mile I called it due to the pain.  I could have pushed through but it wasn't right.  I went back to the bike and back to the doctor.
This ended in back to the boot but with new hardware- a bone stimulator.  The plan is to get me to the start line for Bay to Breakfast and the Gulf Coast Half Marathon (oh, yeah and a 31 floor stair climb). 
In the beginning I thought this is horrible.  Now, I am grateful for this time to evaluate my needs, my body, and my determination. I will be happier to be out of the boot and out running. However, for now I will focus on healing, on the bike, on the water, and on giving value to know what is best for me.
I don't wish an injury on anyone but if you are going to get injured before an event my recommendation is to do it early in your training!

How we got here?

I decided to start a blog to talk about our (my) journey to Ironman Chattanooga (IMCHOO).  The event will be 28 September 2014, a little over 7 months away at this point. 
I think it is a good time, as we face one of the most challenging endurance races out there, to explain how we got here. 
First, it is all Patrick's fault.  Yep, you thought I started this, you are WRONG!!!  In March of 2008, Patrick completed his first 5K, the McGuires Run.
I wasn't there due to school (in fact I would miss the first 2 races of this journey due to school). After he ran McGuires, Patrick decided to set out a goal to do 1 5K a month for a year. We were not in shape at all, I struggled to run up the hill next to the house, a mile should have been 100 miles, but this was our goal.
So we began training---  Actually, we began talking about training.  The weeks and days leading up to the 5K were blissful, no pain, no worries, no dehydration.  Then race morning would come and we would discuss on the ride to the race about how we should really start training.  This went on with some sporadic training for about 6 months.  Then the strangest thing started to happen we started to enjoy running. I can't tell you when it happened, just one day it wasn't dreadful, it wasn't exhausting, and it wasn't a fight. Now don't get me wrong I still struggle with motivation and the mental battle, but it is different now.
We obtained our goal- 1 year, 1 5K a month.  Then... we just kept running. We decided to go for another year but this time we would train.  No really train, like get up and run for more than one day in the month. Thus began training.  With training came the idea that we could go further. 
What better race for distance than the Double Bridge?  We went from a 3.1 mile run to a 9.3 mile run. Then we went back and picked up a 6.2 mile run (order means nothing to us).   Now we were runners.  We weren't fast but we could endure. We saw noticeable changes in our eating habits and our bodies--- YAY PAY OFF!!!
After 2 years of running, I decided we should explore more avenues of exercise.  Okay, I got bored. In May of 2010, I decided to do the Aquathon.  This is a 5K run followed by a 5K swim (it would be the last year of this race). 
This got me hooked on the idea of Triathlon (how hard could it be to add one more sport).

(The faces of triathlon)

In October 2010, Patrick and I suited up for SRI TRI.  For me that was all it took. Patrick thinks in that moment I was Ironman bound (or determined).  I would not come to this realization for several more races. Triathlon was a new frontier.  Training was split between three disciplines, even though in eh beginning we mostly ran since we did more running races.  For me triathlon was a welcomed change.  Being back in the water for me was like the scene at the end of Free Willy, when willy jumps the jetty to freedom in the open water.  I was at home, at peace, and hurting less.  The biking portion however was a learning curve. We bought reasonable bikes.  We called them "trial" bikes.  If we did more than one triathlon and thought it was a good idea then we may upgrade. There were clips and shoes, helmets and gloves, special shorts and tops- for our first event we had shoes, clipless pedals, and helmets- and we were BAD ASS!!!!
As the years went moving forward we got better equipment in all disciplines. We actually bought running shoes that fit, bikes that were fitted, and gear that would work in training and on the course (including knee braces and shoe inserts).  It was a slow process, getting a piece here and there, waiting out paychecks, and hoping for sales. 
After 6 years on this journey that was suppose to only last a year, we have completed countless 5Ks, numerous 10Ks, a good many half marathons, a few marathons, double digits sprint triathlons, some Olympic tris, 2 Half Ironman events, and are now packing the year with more events leading up to the Full Ironman event.
You may ask, "what are you thinking?"  I think it comes down to thinking "why not?"  and to that we had no good answer. That's how we got here and it is all Patrick's fault.

(After Goofy, it only got goofier.)