Conquering Ironman Chattanooga 144.6 (Patrick's Race Report)

We are continuing to raise money for the Navy Seal Foundation.  For more information please read this: Supporting the Navy Seal Foundation- Frogman Swim 

There are so many emotions and experiences to document and reflect about Ironman Chattanooga 2015. I will start at the beginning.


Teresa and I started discussing Ironman events shortly after we started participating in triathlon in 2010. She wanted to complete a full Ironman 140.6 race, and I wanted to participate in Escape From Alcatraz.

We both knew we were not anywhere close to the fitness level needed to do either event at that point, but completing Alcatraz and a FULL were long-term goals we achieved in 2015. It was a good year. We started with Sprint distance triathlons, and graduated to Olympic and Half-iron distances. In 2013 we started seriously discussing. We picked Louisville, KY Ironman because it was the closest geographically in which we knew we could get registered without waiting. At some point, Chattanooga was announced and we jumped at the chance. When registration opened we both managed to get registered. It was extremely close as I almost didn't get to register because of the great Active.com crash of 2013 :/

We trained. We were dedicated and positive for the entire year. I had a couple injuries in the months leading up to IMCHOO 2014 (right foot Intermetatarsal Neuroma & broken left rib(s)), but was optimistic about my chances of finishing. If you want to re-live my first attempt on this course in 2014, read this Blog. The short version is that I was really close, but did not finish in 2014. I didn't immediately sign up for 2015, but after talking to a couple people, I decided to try it again.

It has taken me an entire year to get over that night, emotionally. I've been plagued with self-doubt and a severe lack of motivation.

A majority of the year, training in 2015 didn't feel as consistent, positive, or productive, but we did try to train smarter. The last couple months we made huge strides in progress because of Dom Risola and Tripossiblities. Regardless, going into IMCHOO 2015 I still had some lingering doubt. To make matters worse I severely bruised my floating ribs on the right side, days before we left for Chattanooga. Stress.

Pre-Race

Like many, we are horrible at tapering. We rode a final 25 mile training ride with the Wheelmen of NW Florida the night before we left for Chattanooga. This year we drove up a day earlier. The extra day made a big difference with reduced stress.

I was more relaxed in the days before the event. Teresa's parents made the trip again for support and sherpa'ing. We had some great friends racing with us (Gaby, Gary, Jessica, Todd, Sam) and some others that came to Chattanooga to cheer us on (Susie, Ron, Ras, Mike). We have such a great support system!

This year we were also in town for the annual underwear run to raise money and food for the Chattanooga Food Bank. It worked out well because this was our last 2 mile run before the event. We had so much fun running in our underwear, and then standing around drinking beer in our underwear, and raising money for a great cause: www.chattfoodbank.org. The final tally for the donations of food and cash related to the event translated into 3,832 meals to people in need in the Chattanooga/North Georgia area.

Our final swim before the event was an upstream push to the second bridge from swim exit. We swam about 1000 yards and confirmed there would be no need for a wetsuit.

The weather continued to be gloomy in the days before the race. So much so that we treated ourselves to some Fusion jackets. These were instant lifesavers from the chill and wind! Bonus was they were super comfortable for our adventures around Chattanooga.

Bike and Transition Bags drops went well. Things were prepped and ready to go. We are in the final countdown. No more days to ponder; only hours left to check and recheck and try to relax.

Since we did a lot of the tourist things in 2014, we limited the sightseeing to Rock City. It was 95% fun and awesome and 5% creepy.

Creepy = Fairyland Caverns :/

Pea Ridge!

For some unknown reason, I slept better the night before IMCHOO 2015 than any other race 70.3 distance and above that I've ever done. Everything clicked and I was comfortably out. Not only is this a long day, it is an early day. We both jumped out of bed at 3:00 a.m. to get ready and get to the race start. We wanted to be close to the front so I could get the maximum allotment of time on the course. It worked. We could see the entry banners and could hear the announcers. With 2 hours before race start, I napped on the sidewalk.

It is braid time.

Maybe if the woman beside me (not Teresa) would stop talking loudly about how she can never nap before a race, should would actually be able to take a nap in during these 2 hours before the race.
Others COULD nap if you would PIPE DOWN.

Swim

Swim Exit, working my way to Transition.

The swim has easily become my favorite part of triathlon. I'm still pretty mid-pack, but I don't feel like I'm working very hard. Teresa jumped into the water first and I was right behind her. The water felt great. My goggles fogged, but that was an easy fix. I glided down the river while everyone around me ping-ponged from side to side. Practice sighting people! I climbed out of the river at 1:07 which is about 5 minutes longer than last year. There was much less current in our favor for 2015. I felt really good running into transition. I overshot my Bike Transition Bag, again, because I'm blind. My transition to the bike was a little slow. I'll admit, I was apprehensive. I sat on my sunglasses so I had to straighten them back out. I had trouble putting on my tri top and stuffing the pockets. Somehow I missed my bag of potatoes but I had plenty of Huma (Gu packs) and Uncrustables to get me through the course. I also decided to push forward instead of using the restroom in transition.


Bike

I jogged to my bike stopping briefly to get some sunscreen and only rolling my ankle once. Immediately out of transition I hit the up button on my watch so I could monitor cadence. The button stuck and my watch began to cycle through all the screens and beep. I pulled over to try to fix it, but nothing would work. I got going again and hit a rut in the road, almost loosing it 1 mile into the course. I stayed up-right and moving forward. Just when I was about to take off the watch and throw it away, the button righted itself. I could see everything I needed. The first 10 miles went fast. I decided to stop at the first aid station for some port-a-potty time. I stopped just shy of a woman who was trying to ride back out onto the course. This was the same girl who "rationalized" her decision to cut in front of 2000 athletes before the swim because she was "lonely" and it "didn't matter" because someone told her that faster swimmers were supposed to just "be in front of the line." She just stood there and looked me, and after about 30 seconds said, "I don't think it's on," while looking down at her chain. Everything looked fine to me and I told her as much, pushed passed her and racked my bike.

As I entered the toilet, I heard someone shout, "Oh that sucks," as I saw my bike roll back into the ditch. The volunteers told me that the rack completely collapsed. I lost my Payday candy bar, but my bladder and bowls were now clear and I was much more comfortable. We faced a lot of wind on the course. It was nice because of overcast skies, but wind always sucks. I kept pedaling.

Nutrition was a lot better this year than last. I was drinking every mile, and eating something every twenty minutes. I alternated between Uncrustables and Huma Chia-based gu packs. I also alternated between Caffeine gu vs non-caffeine gu. It worked. I felt good the whole ride. I got a Payday at the special needs stop, and a chocolate milk, and more peanut butter and jelly.

All this, over and over, for 15 hours.

I'm sure it was a mental game, but the second lap seemed faster than the first lap. I think it is because I knew what to expect. I recognized landmarks and mile markers. It was nice this year to not be completely alone. I was always around other athletes on the course. It boosted my confidence and my motivation. My seat and ass finally agreed with each other. I had some lower back tightness (and I have some saddle sores and chaffing days after), but the discomfort was minimal during the race. I successfully flying dismounted after about 7 hours 30 minutes on the bike. I shaved about 1 hour, 20 minutes from last year's attempt. Even still, I was nervous about finishing. I took a little longer in T2 this year. I knew I was in a better spot. I sat on my glasses, again. After a complete change of clothes, re-application of body lube, and re-stuffing of pockets. I was ready for my marathon.

Run

Patrick Willi makes it look easy!! Just awesome!! PEA RIDGE!!
Posted by Mike Everett on Sunday, September 27, 2015

I felt good coming out of T2. A lot stronger than last year. I found my cheer section. Teresa had made it off the bike and was kicking ass. They wouldn't tell me how far ahead she was, but did tell me to go catch her. I was off. My first mile was about 14 pace and I worked my way down to about a 12 minute pace until about mile 9. I leveled off at about a 14 pace. At mile 8 I got a much needed shot of adrenaline from Todd Bizba, the loudest, most energetic athlete I saw all night. We ran together for about a quarter mile then he went to finish his awesome day. Teresa and I passed at my 9, her 12. She stayed about 3 miles ahead of me the entire run. I saw Sam's huge smile at my mile 10. He was chasing Teresa. I was really excited and confident when I hit the second lap at 7:30 p.m.. I wasn't going to relax until I made it past the bridge, where I was pulled in 2014. My stomach was heavy most of the run. I took base salts, Gatorade, water, and ice at all stations, grapes at every 3rd station, and had a gu every 4 miles. Toward the end I started taking broth, grapes, and water. The last couple of stations I downed some soda. My stomach held out until mile 18 when I stopped for another potty break. I passed the mile 20 marker and made the turn toward street level. I knew I had to get up a hill and turn right to pass over the bridge. I made it with plenty of time to spare. Over the bridge was mile 21.

I was most emotional running over that bridge. Even finishing didn't give me the same lump in my throat. It was getting to and passing the point from last year. Being better. Seeing and feeling a difference in my ability. I had a couple of those choke up minutes. It was each time I realized the time and that I was going to finish (unless I got hit by a car or fell off a bridge).

Coming up the killer hills at miles 22/23 killed my quads. I was planning to push through and finish before the 15 hour mark, but I didn't have it in me. IB profin wasn't cutting it. I kept moving forward but I knew I was slowing. I ran down the last big hill, and curved under the bridge through the downtown area. I walked half-way over the pedestrian wooden bridge and down the hill to the last curve. I remembered Teresa talking about the last bit of the run and how she would never forget it. I understand that now. Adrenaline started to surge. I heard someone say 350 yards left. 3.5 football fields. I could do this. I wasn't going to sprint because I knew every muscle in my body would cramp. I started my final steady jog. I could see the finish. I could see the crowd and the chute. That final carpeted section is so surreal. High-fives. Cheers. Smiles. Exhaustion. Hunger. I finished. Patrick Willi from Pensacola, FL, you are an Ironman!

Patrick Willi from Pensacola...YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!!
Posted by Mike Everett on Sunday, September 27, 2015

My catcher was extremely sweet. I wish I had more awareness and to be able to talk. I would have rather had soda than water. A blanket would have been cool. Hooking me up to a bag of IV saline would have probably been fun.
Where's my damn pizza?


Post-Race

www.WeRaceTogether.com

I was a little irritated that the volunteers wouldn't let Teresa back in photo area so we could get a photo together in front of the IM backdrop. I stood there in protest until Teresa ordered me to leave.  I found my damn pizza, and soda, and Little Debbie snacks. We then went to the hotel for quick showers before hitting Waffle House. My stomach didn't feel right until 3 days later.

Reflection

It's hard to notice improvement as it is happening. During training I don't realize how fast I've gone until I upload my numbers. I never feel fast in the water because regardless of how fast you are going you are still working so hard it feels like you are crawling. The same can be said for performance on the bike. Side-by-Side comparison is where you see improvement. I've never claimed to be fast, but I am consistent. This should prove it:

IMCHOO	2014	2015
Swim	1:02:08 *strong current	1:07:54
T1	12:58	11:53
Bike	8:47:01	7:27:59
T2	8:39	11:09
Run	Pulled past mile 20.6 (5:19:23)	6:12:08
Overall	DNF 15:30:09 on course to 139.1 miles	15:10:33

Looking back at this year, there is very little I would do differently on race day.  Yes, there are places I could have pushed a little faster (Transition, Special Needs), but these areas wouldn't have shaved a lot off my time. Bathroom breaks costed me about 5 minutes total, I'd estimate, but again, I'd rather be comfortable. I'm still a little hesitant about the saddle on my bike. I guess the search will continue on that. A tight triathlon top and wet body makes it hard to stuff pockets. I carried too much extra stuff, but you never know. More variety of food on the bike would be welcome.

When all was said and done, I had a good day. I was comfortable in the water and on the run. I was positive on the bike. The 116 miles is still my least favorite part, but it is also the best place for me to make gains. The race atmosphere and the volunteers really make the race. Everyone was nice and positive and encouraging.

Because of how IM has started doing the special needs bags, I had to sacrifice some equipment I didn't need to take with me. I said farewell to:

• My Pensacola Sports Association (PSA) arm warmers :(
• A Harbor Freight flashlight 
• Bike tube and CO2
• Bottle of Core Power Protein drink
• Peanut MMs
• Band-aids and Biofreeze

At some point during the race, I decided that I don't want to do that distance again. So I don't have plans to do another 144.6. I am happy to stick with 70.3. It has been a hard couple years. I'm happy to have finished what we started and while the 2014 attempt is always there, I know that I am better now, physically and emotionally.

I am an Ironman. 

 

Onward and upward. Keep moving forward.

Teresa and I are continuing to raise money for the Navy Seal Foundation.  For more information please read this: Supporting the Navy Seal Foundation- Frogman Swim 

We've been blogging for a while now. If you enjoyed this one, you may enjoy others. Look though the Blog Archive on the right, for more of our experiences and random thoughts. 

Thank you for your ongoing support of our adventures.  

Please feel free to share our blog.

"Patrick, You ARE an Ironman."-- What those words meant to me...

I am continuing to raise money for the Navy Seal Foundation.  For more information please read this: Supporting the Navy Seal Foundation- Frogman Swim 

Yes, I did IMCHOO.
Yes, I am going to talk about it. 
No, I am not going to talk about my journey right now. 
You see there is something more important to me that I want to talk about.  I want to talk about what those words, "You are an Ironman," meant to me that night when Patrick's name proceeded them.  

Checked in 2015!!

This all came about when a friend of mine expressed congratulations to Patrick first on finishing the race, when it was only me standing there, and I too raced.  After stating I would tell him and smiling, I moved on.  But this has been a theme of the week.  I expressed to another friend my frustration with Patrick's finish seeming more important.  My friend looked at me and said, "But you did it before."  Then they said these words, "Aren't you happy for him?" 
I was taken back.  I knew this friend was simply confused and concerned over what they perceived was me not supporting Patrick or thinking he should not get praise for his hard work that day.  
I felt in that moment and in ones to follow a need to explain what it meant that night to hear those words.  
During the trip to Tennessee Patrick and I talked about the last year and the event of the last IMCHOO race.  Patrick noted my emotional state to be one similar to survivor guilt-- finisher guilt, he coined.  I didn't want to celebrate my victory for fear it wasn't fair.  I was cautious of wearing gear from the event.  I was scared of hurting my training partner, my strength and core.  Patrick gave me permission throughout the year to be proud; he was proud of my achievement.  In turn I believe I gave him support to try again and faith in him enough to push out doubt on the rough days.  
The events of Sunday night which took place outside the finish chute video can only be shared here. 
I was the first person to put my victory second to Patrick's.  
During the run portion of the race Patrick and I saw each other twice.  The first time we met near the top of one of the backside hills.  I yelled and cheered for him and he broke a smile.  High fives were shared.  The next time would be near the same hill, I would be about 2 miles from the finish.  At that moment, seeing him I knew he had gone further on that course than ever before; he was pass the cut off/pull point; he was all smiles.  I knew in that moment those words would be spoken that night.  I knew what no one else on that race course knew- that a man with a strength and will greater than I can imagine would push to the finish.  
A few minutes later I was at the finish line.  Once again sending my symbol of love back out on to the course.  I was across the finish line but all I wanted to do was go back out there and chase after him. A medal was put around my neck; photos were snapped; and I was ushered towards food and blankets.  

Family and friends support!

PEA RIDGE support!

My dad was the first familiar face I saw.  He hugged me tight and told me he was proud (a hug I'll talk about later).  I stepped back from him and said, "He's coming."  All smiles, jumping up and down, and fist pumping the air--- "HE'S COMING!!!"  My dad smiled as we walked to where my mom was holding down the fort.  Again hugs and congrats and "he's coming".  My mom smiled.  My parents told me Patrick was looking strong at T2 and on the tracker.  I told them of watching him crest the hill with a smile that lit up the night.  My parents told me where friends of mine were, near the finish line.  I went down to see them and to tell them the news.  
After hugs, I told them, "He's coming."  I gave the same details of where he was and that he was looking good and feeling good.  He was going to make it, he had time.  
As each minute went by my anxiety grew.  I think a friend of ours got tired of me asking, "Is that him?" As each person came into the light. 
Then there he was, coming down the finish chute.  There he was all smiles.  There we were all yelling for him.  Watching him cross that finish line I could feel his burden and mine lifted.  We were Ironmen!!!  
In socks and over muddy ground I ran around the finish area to greet him at the athlete  exit.  I wanted to wrap my arms around him, congratulate him, and bask in this accomplishment.  (The "guards" would not let me in to take a photo with him.)  I waited till he was out of the athlete finish area and we embraced.  I know in that moment he was relieved and proud and a thousand other emotions.  All I felt was elation, for him.  I knew the work that went into getting here, beyond the workouts, I knew the mental work it took for him to get here.  It may have been a struggle I have yet to fully understand but I knew the road block standing there.  
I tell you this to say I realized I should not be upset when others congratulate me on his accomplishment first, as I did the same thing that night.  

In his victory I found victory greater than what was found in my victory alone. 
My cup runeth over. 

I am continuing to raise money for the Navy Seal Foundation.  For more information please read this: Supporting the Navy Seal Foundation- Frogman Swim 

I've been blogging for a while now. If you enjoyed this one, you may enjoy others. Look though the Blog Archive on the right, for more of our experiences and random thoughts. 

Thank you for your ongoing support of our adventures.  

Please feel free to share our blog.
  

IMCHOO 2015- Here We Go

I am continuing to raise money for the Navy Seal Foundation.  For more information please read this: Supporting the Navy Seal Foundation- Frogman Swim 
 
We are only a few days out from Ironman Chattanooga 2015 (IMCHOO).  Here we are facing the start line to this race.  My heart leaps, fluttering with excitement and nerves.  Some will tell me, “Don’t worry, you have done this before.”  But this does not calm my nerves; it does comfort me to be reminded that I HAVE done this before.  I try to build on this comfort platform to say I have done this twice before AND I have raced several tris before.  This process is not new.  This race course is not new.  This drive is not new.  But my nervousness is not new either. 

Being a working athlete who tries to have a social outlet or two and who is a wife to an athlete and raising four fur babies, life gets crazy and racing makes me crazier (while adding a weird calm).  So for now in this moment I look back at where I was, I look in the mirror for where I am, and I look forward to the finish line.

A Look Back

A year ago I could not believe Patrick and I were going to embark on this journey.  I thought several times, “Who does an Ironman?” I answered myself with images of athletes made of steel with wings on their feet.  But I would soon find out the reality was people like me do Ironman races.  People like me step up to the line and take a flying leap off the dock.  People like me walk and run and walk through the darkness.  People like me break down.  People like me walk across Ironman finish lines.  I learned a year ago that my body and mind will follow my soul.  And that my soul when pushed with a challenge will push back harder. 

It is funny looking back, though, because what I remember the most about that day is only two moments and while I clearly see the finish line it is not that image that stands in my mind.  The first memory was of a volunteer at about the 25 mile mark.  I had started to run again after the aid station, and stopped to walk while yelling at my body.  She ran up behind me (I honestly though tot tell me that I was going the wrong way), wrapped her arm around my sweaty, aching shoulders, and said to me, “You keep going.  You are going to finish.  You are going to be an Ironman tonight.”  I cry just writing it.  This woman did not know me, she could not see my internal struggle, but she knew I needed her.  She walked a few more steps with me then told me to “go” to “finish” my race.  I started running again and while I would walk again and again to the finish line her words in that moment pushed me harder than I could have pushed myself.

The second moment, which stands out the most vivid to me, was seeing Patrick walk up from the crowd to me.  You see after you cross the line at an Ironman, they hand you a medal and hat, they usher you to a photo spot, they wrap a blanket around you and ask 100 times if you are okay, then a nice person writes down your times and hands it to you.  As she was writing down my time I was asking if she would look up Patrick’s information, she basically begged me to be patient and that she would.  She gave me his last check in, my heart sank.  Then a few moments later, after hugging my parents, I started to track him on my phone, no check in.  We waited with no news.  I fought everything in me to not go back out on the course.  Then there he was walking towards me.  I ran and hugged him, he smiled.  HE SMILED!!  I could tell he was disappointed and still trying to process, but he smiled.  In that moment everything that I had known about my husband was truer than it had ever been- he was and has always been the strongest person I know.  He put his heart into that race.  He pushed and pulled others.  He smiled.  The details of why he did not finish are hidden in the details of this race- long bike, short time, time adjustments, no adjustments to cut offs.  But it is not the details of what didn’t happen that night that is most important, what I hold tight in my heart was his smile.  Patrick showed there is comfort in pushing hard, there is achievement in accepting the challenge, and there is joy in knowing there will be other opportunities bigger than this one.  Patrick didn’t quit or give up.  He didn’t say it was too tough.  He didn’t moan over a broken rib or sore foot.  Instead he was there with his head high having pushed as long and as hard as the race details would allow him all with a smile.  Everyday I love him more and that day was no different.

These are the moments from that day that stand forward in my memory.  These are the moments which offer me calm and comfort.  These are the moments that I play over and over each night as I race my race before falling asleep. 

But these are moments of the past.  They have given me lessons but where am I now.

           

A Look In The Mirror

A year after racing IMCHOO for the first time I stand before the mirror and at first look I appear no different than what appeared here a year ago.  However, the subtle changes are there.  When I think about giving up on something- work, personal, or athletic- I step back and remember I alone pushed myself to that finish line.  It really does set in your head, “If I can do an Ironman, I can do this.”  I know there are bigger challenges out there but for me the experience of mind, body, and soul, all coming together for one day was inspiring and energizing. 

In the mirror I see someone who grew that day but continues to find new adventures.  In this year we raced Escape from Alcatraz, a race on our bucket list.  A race that seemed unrealistic to even get into, but there we stood on that boat, together.  This year we raced IM New Orleans 70.3.  The first long race that we did “mostly” together, I could not imagine having more fun on that course.  This year I finished a second full Iron distance in Ocala, with the support of Patrick, who was m run support late into the night.  This year we raced.  But we did so much more.  We got closer to family.  We forged new friendships.  We grew not only as athletes but as people.

So who is looking back at me in that mirror?  A person who through the sport of triathlon has taken a year of focusing on improving at the core- I am working on being better at being social, at being open to new people, and at being a better spouse.  I see a woman ready to take on challenges, even those day to day ones where we have to face ourselves.

On race day the woman in that mirror will be strong, strengthened by the love of family and friends. On race day the woman in the mirror will be humble, graced by the support of others.  On race day the woman in the mirror will be confident, empowered by the encouragements of the past year. 

On race day the woman in the mirror will be better than she was any day before.  

A Look At The Finish Line

For some a finish line is just another line, but for me it is more.  During the hours on the course I think about everything and nothing.   The finish line is a level of peace and accomplishment. I don’t know exactly what I will feel but I hope to see that line and feel the energy—I want to imprint that moment and take again that love!

This journey is long, I will trust in training but out there I will be lifted by love and support.

I am continuing to raise money for the Navy Seal Foundation.  For more information please read this: Supporting the Navy Seal Foundation- Frogman Swim 

I've been blogging for a while now. If you enjoyed this one, you may enjoy others. Look though the Blog Archive on the right, for more of our experiences and random thoughts. 

Thank you for your ongoing support of our adventures.  

Please feel free to share our blog.

Taper, they say. It will be fun, they say.

Make new friends

"They" are wrong.  

Spend time with family

Tapering is an interesting part of training and a part I can honestly say I am not good at.  It causes me to be moody; it causes my body to ache; it makes me want more than anything want to run further, bike faster, and swim harder, right then and there.  
The taper time situation get more interesting when you have two athletes, training for the same race, under one roof.  This tapering moodiness does not always make for the best of days.  Let's be honest, we get frustrated with each other; and want to scream, "GO RUN, A$#&*@#".  But this negative mood doesn't help our legs feel stronger nor does it keep our mind right, so what do we do? 

Have Fun

My mantra in racing repeats in my head:  

Be Positive.  Stay Strong.  Press On. 

I try to apply these principles during these times of tapering.  I force myself to focus on the positive.  Focus on healing my body and resting.  The positive thoughts about training and previous races.  I work on my inner will, strengthening the core of who I am.  Letting my mind build my body stronger.  Then I do what I do everyday during training times-- PRESS ON.  I go to work and home, to gatherings and events.  I do all the things I need to do.  
Doing these things in the tapering times aids me in being able to do them more effectively on race day.   
It takes a lot of effort to focus on your body and mind during this time in a different way than what you have been focusing for the last few months.  Now you have to have trust in your training, trust in yourself, and trust that the finish line waits with open arms.      


I am continuing to raise money for the Navy Seal Foundation.  For more information please read this: Supporting the Navy Seal Foundation- Frogman Swim 

I've been blogging for a while now. If you enjoyed this one, you may enjoy others. Look though the Blog Archive on the right, for more of our experiences and random thoughts. 

Thank you for your ongoing support of our adventures.  

Please feel free to share our blog.
 

Those Pesky Wedding Rings :)

On most days I am good at remembering my wedding ring.  It is simply a way of life- out of the shower, brush hair, dress, put on ring, out the door.  However, I am also easily distracted and once my morning routine is changed I forget the "simple ways of life." Forgetting your wedding band as you head out to the office is a simple "fix"- you simply move forward with your day, when given a chance you mention it to your spouse in passing, but it is no big deal.  If only I forgot my ring on my way to work.  Nope, that's not me; I forget my wedding ring as we are going on a cruise, or traveling on a business trip, or when heading to a race-cation.  And to add to my forgetful problem I don't remember that I forgot my wedding band until we are at a point unable to turn around and return to the house- turns out they won't hold a boat or a plane for me to go back home (again). 

"Oh, that ring. Well you see..."

I have been teased by others that this is a ploy to get a new ring on every trip- I promise it is not.  But I have gotten some good stories from it.  The first “major” forgetful event was when I left my ring as we headed out on our first cruise, a seven day cruise.  We made it to a friend’s house where we were going to carpool to the ship and I freaked out, realizing my ring was not on my finger.  I thought maybe it fell off in the car - NOPE, no such luck.  I remembered quickly where it was, safe and sound on the dresser back home, an hour’s drive from our current location. There was no turning back.  Now, what is great about this is that Patrick never forgets his wedding band (which by the way sits on the same ring holder as mine, just saying); he also never minds that I forget mine.  Remember not minding and not teasing are two different things- he is good at picking on me about my “convenient forgetfulness” with a smile. 

There I was with my husband, with his showing of undying love wrapped around his finger, ready to head on a seven day trip.  I tried not to stress about it but by the second day it was making me crazy, so I did what any normal person would do—I bought a temporary wedding band.  This band would become known as the Jamaican wedding band.  No, I didn’t spend thousands of dollars on this band, but we didn’t do that for my actual wedding band.  I found a nice little ring at a nice little shop.  For the rest of the trip Patrick pointed out my new purchase, but I was happy with my unnaked finger!
Now it would be great to say that I learned my lesson and from this point forward made a point o remember my ring- but you know that’s not what happened.  I may need to go to meetings about this but… “My name is Teresa and I have a Jamaican wedding band, a Memphis wedding band, and another one that I don’t even recall where it was purchased (maybe south Florida).  Also, I have had to make numerous u-turns and back tracks to my house to get my ring.”

Memphis. 

You might be saying to yourself, “What does it matter?  Your wedding band does not define you or your behaviors.”  You would be right it does not.  But it is a part of who I am and a reminder in trying moments of a man who loves me more than I will ever comprehend.  I need that reminder sometimes.  I like to feel a ring on my finger, wrapped around like he wraps his arms around me.  In fact I miss my ring during racing so much that I am looking to purchase silicone rings for racing.  What does my love say about this purchase, “Good.  Those are cost effective enough to purchase one for each of your bags so you won’t forget them.”  That’s right he will purchase enough of them to have them prepacked in every one of my bags--- looks like I am getting no more vacation wedding bands.      

I am continuing to raise money for the Navy Seal Foundation.  For more information please read this: Supporting the Navy Seal Foundation- Frogman Swim 

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Training Buddy Down

In racing and training you learn there are things you can't control- bad weather, flat tire, or broken goggles.  While you can fight through a head wind, carry gear to fix a flat, and power through a swim with no goggles, one thing difficult to overcome is when your training partner ends up with an injury.  

I was reminded of the hardships of having a down training partner as one of our friends and teammate was recently injured in a cycling event.  The couple trains together and offer support to each other.  The wife said to me as we were swimming (well, on a short break) that she felt bad because she was still training and her husband could not.   Then she also noted that she didn't want to complain about feeling bad because she didn't want to make it worse.
It may seem strange to say that another person's injury has a HUGE effect on one's training, when the person still training is not the injured one.  But the reality is when your training partner gets injured the vicarious trauma to the uninjured partner can be a hurdle hard to overcome. 
This has occurred on a few occasions for Patrick and I; when he had severe back pain, when I broke my foot, when he broke his ribs, and just on some rough days.  So we have been there and have had to climb out of frustration as the victim and the survivor.  

For me one reason this hurdle seems so high is the factor that you are NOT injured, no doctor is telling you to stop, but your motivation is dampered, your mind is wondering if there is a chance of you getting injured, and your plans to high five at the end of a long run now becomes a "self hug".  In addition there is the problem that you feel guilty sharing your ongoing training with your injured training buddy, they can't get out there and you don't want to rub it in that you got to go for a run (even though they still encourage you to go out there and still want to talk about it). 
What can be done to help with "training survivor's guilt" and "lone trainee motivation?"  There are some things we have done:  
Figure out if your training buddy can do something else to still train and join them for some alternative training.  When I got a stress fracture a few years ago I started aqua jogging (yep, I love it and I promote it) since I could not put pressure of my foot. During this time Patrick spent more time in the pool swimming.  Even though we weren't doing the same activity at least we would be together at the same place and could see each other's progress.  Being there with my training partner made me feel complete and not so broken.
If you can't change your training find something you can do for the same amount of time.  During the same foot injury Patrick was running to train for a half marathon and a 15K.  I of course could not go running, so I started riding my bike on the trainer (once I was a little into my healing).  This allowed me to work out for the same amount of time, feel accomplished, and not feel like an anchor still in bed.  It also was something I could do the same time of day as him and it didn't change his need to go run.  
Another one of the adjustments we have made when one of us has been hurt has been changing running to walking.  Sure it isn't a run but it is forward motion.  Walking is a great way to keep moving as a triathlete who sustains injury to the upper body.  There is no bouncing but it is movement-- forward motion. 
These methods help the injured athletes to stay in the game, which can be helpful as the uninjured partner to take away some of the guilt a training partner may feel from being able to get out there and go.  Also by having your training buddy out there it helps you to not feel alone in your training, instead while you aren't doing the same things you ARE both moving forward. 

One last thing to remember for the injured and uninjured athlete- stay positive.  your body will heal, your buddy will get back on the road with you, you can bounce back.  Staying positive about an injury helps both training partners.  The uninjured athlete encouraging rest and healing gives the injured athlete permission to take time to care for themselves.  Sometimes we need permission to sit still.  Additionally for the injured athlete positive self talk and finding things to do to keep going helps promote healing.  The focus shifts from "can't" to "CAN".  
Remember help your training buddy along the way, through injury, through healing, and through their return to the road. You would want them to do the same for you!  

 
I am continuing to raise money for the Navy Seal Foundation.  For more information please read the blog posting below.  
Thank you for your on going support of our adventure. 
Supporting the Navy Seal Foundation- Frogman Swim