quite a long minute

I haven't posted a blog lately, have I? I think about writing, about sharing what's been going on, but I'm also trying to make sense of a lot of things and I haven't had the words or the energy to string together the words. It's been a lot of good and bad - the yin and the yang.

Four years ago, I knew I needed to stop working in the way I had been working for over 20 years. It was a combination of burnout and a desire to experience the "more to life" than working myself to death in Corporate America was getting me. I actually recognized that *I* was working myself to death, that was my choice, but I knew there was no way to figure out what drove that choice day after day, job after job, while fully immersing myself in that - I knew I had to step away. I am grateful I had the clarity to see that. I am grateful for the people who supported my leap into scary territory of not working, not taking a salary and benefits and matching 401K contributions and stock options and incentive compensation. Yes, there are many forms of currency, which this time off has allowed me to experience. AND there will never be enough words of thanks to my spouse and everyone who has rallied around me to help me take this time to get back to what's important, including ME.

Am I back? Well, I see me, the version of me that exists without the wounds of the past holding me down. I also see a version of me that is moving forward without letting past trauma interfere with present relationships, situations and experiences. I am striving toward forgiveness for the former me who knew no better. What cannot continue is letting the sharp broken pieces keep showing up and causing harm, to me and to others. I am not 100% there yet, but I am working on it and I am getting better every day. Is this uncomfortable to acknowledge? Truly. But you can't know where you're going if you don't know where you are. And I am here, in that messy space of working on me and giving myself grace as I try to soften those edges. It has been difficult to start, scary to continue but glorious to unfold, so that keeps me going for it.

My body is healthy, save for my current random self-inflicted leg injury from trying to return to running too much too soon. It could also be blood clots. I have no idea, and I digress... A friend of ours died last month, that was a reality check. Our time here is brief, and fleeting, and a GIFT. I know this. I generally live this, but his death forced a hard look in the mirror about what I'm doing with that gift. I got up Pikes Peak in less than 6.5 hours (multiple times, but also on race day when it counted) last year. I will do it again this year. I will run as many miles as I can, safely and without re-injury, next month at the Salt Lake City Half Marathon. I'll be increasing my swim fitness over the next 90 days so that I can give Team BBK an advantage at the Omaha IM 70.3. I'm also working with a therapist to resolve the trauma. Mental health matters, and I have neglected to acknowledge mine for too long. I am doing the best I can, and I'm learning to be OK with not being perfect as I do it. 

And there have really been a lot of golden moments, too. I got to spend a lot of time with my Grandma toward the end of her life, I was free to do that. I trained myself up athletically for long distance events and even got on the podium at a local tri, something I never thought I'd see again. Now I know I can. I'm letting myself have fun, meet new people, go towards doing things I love, with people I love. We've had wonderful new experiences these past couple years with racing, training, and the people we've met through that, it even led to our first winter hut trip this year. We have built on existing friendships and ventured into new ones. I took on being the president of the triathlon club we've been part of for over a decade, with a goal to make it fun and accessible to the next generation of racers. We have an awesome board that fully supports this and we're making it happen! And we're looking forward to seeing Andrea Bocelli at Red Rocks this fall. So, life is moving right along with its black eyes and gold medals. 

It might be another long minute before I post. I am focusing on The Draft because nothing happens without a first draft. And with that, I begin. The road may look dark, but I can see we're moving toward the light. Joy comes in the morning, every morning. 
 

woe, to the injured athlete

It happens so fast, and for reasons which make no sense. We are blindsided as we're sidelined, forced to face how fragile our bodies can be. And then we're staring down a season whose goals are drip, drip, dripping away, and there's no way for us to stop the leak or figure out how to mop up the mess it's creating. And so, we do what we can. We rest. We cry. We get our nails done. We let other people take care of us. We get mad. We find a silver lining whenever we can. But honestly, whatever we can do is never really enough, because we are robbed of being able to do The Thing We Most Want To Do. Woe, indeed.

I am here in the land of the injured athlete. I know this is merely a visit, I will not stay forever, but that is little consolation at the height of summer when I want to be swimming in open water and outdoor pools, climbing hills on my bike with Mr. BP and my friends, and running on the dirt while taking in mountain views. But something stepped in to say "Not today, sister, not today."

I have a rib injury, caused by a bout of excessive sneezing. It wasn't a fall down the trail or off my bike, it wasn't a tree root that snagged me on a run, but a stupid, unexplained, extended sneeze frenzy on a Monday afternoon. As it wound down, I joked to Mr. BP "Can you die of sneezing, because I feel like that is a real possibility, here." Of course we had no idea I actually injured myself, then. Everything seemed normal once the sneezing stopped. The next morning, I had an abnormally high HR during track, which clued me in that something wasn't right. I backed off the intensity - WAY off - and finished the workout but I knew something must be going on. That night I walked the dog and I started to feel a stitch in my right side. Odd. 

I woke up Wednesday morning and the stitch was still there. It got progressively worse throughout the day. I Dr. Googled myself and came up with possible gallstones or pulmonary embolism. This is a perfect example of why you should not Dr. Google yourself; there are trained professionals who can come up with the correct answer much more quickly. I figured if this thing didn't calm down by the next morning, we'd better seek one out.

Sure enough, there was no calming. In fact, there was no sleep due to the pain, which overnight had radiated to my back and shoulder. I knew as soon as Mr. BP woke up, we'd get ready to head out. I reached out to my Dr. friend to see if we should go to Urgent Care or ER, given my symptoms. We settled on Urgent Care, also because we are in the middle of insurance confusion with the switch at my husband's employer. I was reluctant to eat breakfast in case I'd need to head to a hospital and be admitted for emergency surgery (another example of why checking with Dr. Google is silly) but I had some oatmeal and took a shower. The shower was non-negotiable in case I WAS admitted, it could be days before I got another one.

The Urgent Care staff was great. We had to go two, because the first one informed us even though it says they are still in-network, people are being charged because it is NO LONGER in network. To be safe, we drove across town to the center that was definitely still in-network. Didn't take long to be seen, they went through a lot of questions and did a physical exam and came up with the issue pretty quickly: stuck rib/pulled muscle, costochondritis. And based on the timeline, it was the sneezing and then it was exacerbated by running. Take ibuprofen, use a heating pad, stretch often and you should see improvement in 1-2 weeks, recommend rest 2-3 weeks. 

Are you f*cking kidding me? I can fall down an entire flight of stairs and be ok, I can trip and somersault down Bergen Peak with just one bruise to show for it, but SNEEZING is what actually takes me out? And right as I'm in the height of training for Wisconsin, which is only 7 weeks away! Of course, I'm very relieved the pain wasn't due to anything worse, and grateful that I didn't have to go to the hospital or have surgery. But this diagnosis hurt, and as we walked to the car, I stopped to sob in the parking lot. The cruel irony was how much worse the crying made the pain feel... but even so I couldn't quit, as I saw my season washing away with my tears. 

Rib injuries are difficult. You use those muscles for so many things. I'm now just trying not to laugh, cry, breathe too deep (or sometimes, at all!), sneeze or cough. Also, no bending, twisting, reaching, pulling, carrying. Yikes. Sleep has been upright (no laying down, too painful) and fairly intermittent. I am VERY GRATEFUL to the makers of Aleve and Biofreeze, that's what I've been taking and they are a huge help. Yesterday I was able to do a short, very slow walk and today felt a lot more normal, so we went further, HOORAY. I took a friend's advice and got a manicure and pedicure - I hadn't done that in years, and it felt super nice. I've been catching up with friends on the phone. I'm writing. I'll make progress on new nephew's baby blanket. So. All is not lost. 

I won't make any decisions about the season before next Sunday. And while the negative thoughts keep coming, I WILL NOT sit down and have tea with them in my head. I'm getting better at just ushering them out the back door. This is actually quite exhausting, but with all this practice I can see the improvement. I'm just going to keep the faith and do my best to focus on the positive. My nails look great, it's fun to talk to my friends, I get to catch up on my writing, I get to start doing our budget for the rest of the year. This, too, shall pass.

--

"Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart." - Proverbs 3:3, NIV

St. Anthony Race Recap

A couple weeks ago we travelled to race the St. Anthony Triathlon in St. Petersburg, FL. We had a GREAT time - the St. Anthony's Tri is really a spectacular event, with thousands of athletes from all over the world. Most compete in the Olympic, though almost the same number of athletes race the sprint distance. There's also a Kid's Tri. Overall, it's well-organized and well-staffed, the volunteers and spectators are delightful, the course is beautiful and flat, and extra bonus, racers have the option to rack their bikes in transition the day before the race! Race travel is not exactly a vacation, but I grew up in the area and much of my family still lives there. We also got married down there, and since we met in a triathlon club, we figured racing among palm trees along the waterfront is really a great way to spend your anniversary! In the end, yes it was, and we definitely want to go back and do it again. 

The things that made doing this race a bit tough for us were planning around family, and logistics, specifically getting our borrowed bikes sorted. Next time, we will devote one half-day to getting everything bike-related set up, or even a full day, but have it DONE within the day. We spread that out over a couple days, and it all worked out, but it was a bit of a time-suck doing it like that. We also didn't set expectations around race-related and event time, and family time. I like checking into a race as early as possible, which meant Friday... I also would have liked to rack my bike, but you can't do that until Saturday. And we didn't know if people would want to see the race venue on Saturday. In the end we decided to check in on Friday, and not return to rack bikes until Sunday morning (the day of the race). This was fine, but if we'd had the plan ahead of time, and just stuck to it, I'd have removed a lot of mental stress. Really this was the only issue. We need to have a plan ahead of time, and follow it. 

The day before the race (Saturday), the race directors had emailed that due to the conditions, the Olympic swim would be shortened to the Sprint distance, so only 750m. None of us were too upset about that. Race morning... driving down there at 4:30AM, it was WINDY. Like, the big automotive dealership flags were pointing straight out west in the wind. Shortening the swim was the right call, as the Sprint course is in a mostly protected area that finishes on a beach, but the Olympic course continues out into the bay and is exposed on the second half of the swim, then finishes in a seawall with a metal staircase out of the water. No one wants athletes getting slammed into either the seawall or the stairs and getting injured - I completely agreed with the judgement. So, we figured short swim, good flat bike with some difficulty due to the wind, and a nice run. OK, here we go. Only issue - we didn't bring throw-away shoes for the morning, so we were barefoot as we used the porta-potty and walked down to the beach. Whoops. We survived. 

The Swim

There was a bit of confusion on the beach at the start. Athletes didn't know when to line up, when the start was happening, etc. The music was very loud and due to the wind, you really couldn't hear announcements - and there were multiple canon fires. I am sure they were announcing everything, but unless you were directly next to the speaker, you couldn't understand it. It would have been helpful if specifics on the swim start were emailed the night before or if everything was laid out in the Athlete guide. At this race, you line up by expected swim time and the signage for swim times was good, so you could organize yourself there pretty easily. However, relay members didn't know if they had a different start, or if they lined up with all athletes. And the actual swim start area with the mats was small and unmarked, 2 chutes each took 2 athletes, that info wasn't known until you were right up on it. There were a lot of "what's going on?" comments and questions, adding to the pre-race nerves. 

All this to say, my swim actually started smoothly. I entered right with Jeremiah, which was cool. Patrick was ahead of us. Also, the water was 72 degrees, so wetsuit legal! I was glad I had mine. I wasn't going to bring it, but Patrick and J'ne convinced me otherwise. Plus, it was good for my shoulder (injured, recovered, in the last 6 weeks - first real swim using it).

It was low tide, so after crossing the timing mat, we ran the first 50 yards out, and the current was pushing south (helpful), so once you turned at the first buoy, we got a favorable push right along most of the course. Normal swim chaos, people clearly started swimming ahead of their projected swim times (or panicked) because I swam over or around quite a few athletes. Buoys were easy to see, though I wished I had COUNTED how many there were. As we neared the last buoy of the sprint course, the chop really picked up and conditions were rough, we were fighting waves and wind from the left. I had no problem, but for left-side breathers (like my husband) it was really tough. Once you turned the last buoy, you were swimming WITH the chop and the wind, and it was only another hundred yards or so to shore, but since it was low tide, you really only swam 25 and ran the last 75 yards in knee-deep water. I didn't mind this initially, but Patrick was irritated, as he'd just started feeling good in the conditions and suddenly had to stand up. And running through shallow water is honestly not easy. But everyone was in the same situation, so on we went.

T1

Running from the beach to transition was about 3/4 mile. (Had we swam the Olympic, we'd only have a couple hundred yards to run to transition.)  We ran on a paved path that was well-swept, but still, it was a long time. Halfway up the path I realized that BECAUSE the swim was so short, and shortened AGAIN by the tide, I had forgotten to pee on the swim! I briefly thought about just peeing as I ran, but immediately decided I didn't want to start riding in pee-soaked shorts, so I detoured into the porta potty in transition. That cost me a couple minutes. Oh, well. Season opener, I'm not super trained, I'm ok with it. 

Got to my bike, got ready and ran my bike almost all the way out of transition before figuring out I forgot my helmet, so leaned the bike on a tree, ran back to get it, ran back up to the exit and was on my way. Side note - know your number. People were yelling "662, helmet!" and I didn't realize they were talking to ME until the official turned me around. In twenty years of racing, I have NEVER not put my helmet on right away, so... Really, this was THE LONGEST TRANSITION I think I've ever had. Again, oh, well. 

The Bike

Because of the wind, I thought it would be difficult, but I was surprised. Riding out toward Tropicana Field we had a push, and I knew it, but we were also going very slightly uphill (barely enough to tell). When we turned to head east and come back through downtown, the wind was rough, but we were on a downhill and, well, again, everyone was in the same situation, and it was only a few miles or so. Once we turned south, we got away from downtown pretty quickly, then we were protected from the wind by trees for almost the rest of the ride! 

The bike course was beautiful. There was no traffic that early on a Sunday. People were out in their driveways cheering us on, that was fun. We rode around the Dali Museum, down along a nature preserve, all the way down to the southernmost roads in Pinellas County. I was worried that our eastward trek down there would be as hard as riding east had been at the beginning, but we were still protected. Patrick really liked riding along parts of the IndyCar Grand Prix track. About a mile from transition, we married up with the sprint distance athletes - that was fun to get more cheers and hellos. Mostly I rode hard, and I got passed by a lot of aero bikes but not a lot of others. I felt pretty good about how I was riding on my rented bike (thank you, Kafe Racer) but also, pretty conflicted. Too fast? Not fast enough? Either way it was a beautiful day and I was happy I had the chance to do that ride. 

T2

Slow for me, but OK. Clearly, I was not in race mode, but I remember thinking I was REALLY enjoying the weather. I did remember to remove my helmet and leave it, before I started running! 

The Run

I started the run slowly, as intended, and put my visor and race belt on as I headed out. I fished my gel out of my jersey pocket and downed it within the first mile, washed it down with a water cup at the first aid station. ~ 1.5 miles in I saw Patrick on his way to the finish - he said "Happy Anniversary" but was looking rough. It was a boost for me to see him. (I would find out later that because he swallowed a good amount of Tampa Bay on the swim, he spent the run barfing every mile or so... but he was still fast!) At my Mile 2, I felt good, by then I was settled. Saw Jeremiah during the 3rd mile, he was walking but looked like he was doing pretty well. I was feeling great. Yay, caffeine. Kids had sprinkler fountains out, so I ran through and gave high fives. The houses there on Snell Island - oh my goodness they were fancy and awesome to look at! People had garden hoses, champagne, donuts... funny, but sugar and alcohol was absolutely the last thing I wanted! It wasn't hot out, but the sun was no joke, and I was happy for the cool-down mists the fans provided. 

I was even MORE happy to see the turn around. Time to GET TO THE FINISH. My Maurten Gel Caf at that point was manna from heaven. That fourth mile was ok, but I was overhydrated and really had to pee. I figured I could wait, but my body said otherwise and just peed on the go. Alrighty! This happened just as I was coming up on an aid station, so I grabbed water cups and dumped them on me to wash it away, and just carried on. Guess I can just pee on the course, after all.

Mile 5, I was pushing, and struggling, and fighting with myself, really. But I was still picking people off. I wasn't getting passed, I was passing. Go, me. That sort of kept me going, playing the "Can I catch you?" game. Even so, that last mile was TOUGH. I was doing a lot of bargaining with myself. When I had a little over a half mile left, and Patrick ran up to me and told me Tom and Heather and the kids were at the finish. OK I CAN DO THIS! And, I did. Saw Tom, Heather and the kids just before the finish chute, and it MADE MY 2024. I picked it up and ran it in. Run done, no walking, ran the whole time. Finished the run in JUST OVER one hour. Like, very barely over, darn it... But still better than 10-minute miles, so I'll take it!

The Finish + Post-Race

I really pushed at the end so was very happy to STOP immediately. I grabbed a Gatorade endurance and a water, and got a wet cow-towel cloth. We saw Jeremiah pretty immediately, which is AMAZING because we didn't make a plan and there were at least 3,000 people milling about in Vinoy Park. Connie met us, too. We called my brother and found him as well, I was SO HAPPY they were all there! Heather told me she started crying when she saw me running. Happy tears, she's a happy crier. I love this so much. Then they took off, and we headed toward Patrick's favorite part of any race, the FOOD.

They did have really great post-race food, but I did not want ANY of it right then. Because Patrick loves it all, I grabbed all of the snacks for him! I gave him my rice and beans. After a while, I did end up eating some fruit and a small slice of marginal pizza, which tasted fantastic for the salt. I had some Sun Chips, too. As we drove home, I wanted a milkshake. Like, a really good one - odd, because I never ever crave or want a milkshake. I probably haven't had one in 7 years? I didn't get one. Had a PB&J and a glass of milk at Mom's. Best sandwich I've ever had. Heather made us roast beef sandwiches for dinner, and a krab avocado sandwich - also the best sandwiches I've ever had. Had three drinks out that night. I do not recommend this. But, as my brother said, the drinks help you not feel your legs. We were sore that night. I'm honestly not sure if the drinks helped or harmed. We were SORE the next day. 

Nutrition Notes

Race morning, I had a good breakfast (egg, English muffin and avocado) and drank a bottle of water prior to race start. I split a scoop of UCAN between 2 bike bottles and finished those 2 bottles on the bike + a caffeine gummy. Probably only need to finish 1 water bottle on the bike, if I'm already well-hydrated, for an Olympic in nice conditions, as I think I was obviously over-hydrated by the run. Had a UCAN gel at the start of the run, a half a Maurten regular gel somewhere on the course (either late bike or early run), and a full Maurten Gel Caf at the halfway point of the run. Felt great, no bonking, but no idea what will be good for a 70.3 if I use UCAN. [I'm testing that now during training, since I felt so good using it, and we also had a Ucan rep speak at our monthly tri club meeting.] 

Not eating right after the race was a mistake, as I was pretty hungry all the rest of the day. Next time I'll have a protein shake or something easy on hand to get SOMETHING in me. And drinking that night? Three drinks is really a lot for me. Basically, we planned to go to a concert with Tom and Heather that night, which we knew was not a good idea, and now we proved that. It was nice to hang out, but we really need no plans at all for race nights going forward. Recovery is important. But other than being sore, we were fairly back to normal the next day.

Results

I came in 27/38 in my division. Fine, ish. My weakest link is biking, so that's what I'm focusing on, now. I averaged 17.4 mph. I would like to get that up to 19+, which is at least a 10% improvement. I am not as trained up since t
his was the season opener and, let's be honest, my shoulder injury mentally derailed me in many ways (post about that, to follow). But I have to say nothing hurt and I felt mostly great this whole race. It's a good starting point. That 10-minute T1 didn't do me any favors, either. Could have gone up a couple spots with T1 improvements, alone. 

Swim: 14/39 - 14:47 for 750m

Bike: 29/38 - 1:25:44 for 40k, 17.4 mph

Run: 24/38 - 1:00:07 for 10k, 9:42/mile

T1: 33/38 - 10:05, 3/4 mile run, bathroom stop, go back for the bike helmet detour

T2: 20/38 - 2:38

Spectator Notes

If you can go to someone's race, DO. They will never ever forget it. Also, do some recon ahead of time, if you can. My mom found out the hard way that parking on race day would be TOUGH. As in, non-existent and she'd end up driving home, rather than seeing us. I had sent my brother and Heather a picture of us in our kits so they'd know what to look for, that definitely helped because they did spot each of us. I didn't have my phone on the course, and didn't want to go to transition to get it after the race. I'm ok with that, but we need to pick a meeting point for the spectators after we cross the finish. Luckily Jeremiah had his phone, so I could call my brother. 

Overall Impression

Super favorable! I want to do this as a season opener and have everyone come for a spring break triathlon party! Loved the course, loved the actual event being along the water, marinas, beach... Even though I had a great time, I didn't love my finish place and I wish I had trained a bit more rather than treated it as the start of my training. Noted. To quote Ms. Mitchell, "I got the race I trained for." It being such a fun, well-organized event made that JUST FINE with me.

Also, a little mental prep would have gone a LONG WAY to helping me in T1. It's like after T1 I realized "Oh yeah, you're racing, Liz, GO!" And this is an A-Race for a LOT of people on the east coast. They've all been training hard for a while, and we're just getting started out here in CO. I was super happy with my swim, for the first open water swim of the year, so I'll take that win! This WAS a good kick-start for me for training. Both me and Patrick are super excited for this season. 

there will be tears

We did the group bike ride yesterday, on our own after I finished work. 30 miles of cycling outside of Boulder, with two big uphill climbs and a lot of prayers for the rain - which was not in the forecast, until we got there - to stay away. (It did.) I was not mentally prepared for the second climb on that route. I may or may not have had a bit of a breakdown, with a lot of swear words and several tears that would not stop coming, even after the climb was over and I was flying downhill. 

To be fair to me, I was tired before the ride started. And this week is the anniversary of my dad's death (17 years goes quickly). But it was also just a physically HARD training ride, for me. It was the first time I rode two hours on an outdoor course of rollers without stopping this year. 

While I was suffering, I knew that the route would be much easier the next time I did it, but even so, there was very little joy. It wasn't until I bribed myself with a recovery beer on the last bit that I vaguely started to be happy I was on my bike. I looked forward to the prospect of cheers-ing me for not quitting the ride, Patrick for his encouragement, and my dad for all he did for us so that I could be here, in Colorado, riding my bike in the foothills of the Rockies. It only took me twenty-five of the thirty miles to concede that yes, I was happy, and happier still that this particular ride was almost over. 

Joy is a choice and I fully acknowledge the fire of joy is hard to come by, at times. But I'm thankful that in my misery, I was able to look for the sparks. Patrick riding silently by me, willing me up that last hill. Pockets of sun shining on the snow-covered foothills. Sweeping views of the Rocky Mountains. Smooth pavement on the downhills. Cars that moved over well beyond the requested 3-feet. Signage to alert drivers that cyclists will be merging to turn left. Recognition that my dad wasn't perfect, but who is, and forgiving him, anyways. And, of course, the recovery beer. We can look for the joy that is not yet there. We can create our own tiny sparks and have faith that the fire is coming. 

Today is Palm Sunday. We slept in and made pancakes. My legs and my heart are looking forward to a long recovery walk with my Doggie Love. I'm happy we did that ride. I'm happy for the training coming up this week. Race season is approaching and I'm happy to train for it. There may yet be some tears to follow, but they will likely include tears of joy. 

--

"This is the day the Lord has made; let's rejoice and be glad in it." 

 - Psalms 118:24

choose love / do the work

As 2023 wound down I was searching for words. For feelings. For the drive to workout diligently. For the desire to do ANYTHING diligently. For a new pair of jeans that fit. For the pain to go away. For songs. What I found? A lot of tears, a lot of couch time, a foray into a choral group and surprisingly, NEW JEANS THAT FIT! I also found a great article about how searching for joy while you're in acute pain can be futile, and the chasm between where you are and where you want to be just adds to the feelings of despair, sending us further on down the misery drain... 

Aha. There it was. I could see I was in a torrential downpour of pain. I wasn't just missing my grandma, my dog, my cousin - I was feeling the great pain of grief that comes when you lose the ones you love. And I saw that the full-blown fire of joy wasn't gonna happen, while that was going on. But sparks of happiness, like the choir, the jeans, the December bike rides, the sunny walks with Solo Polo... these are the little matchsticks of joy I can strike while I'm within the driving sheets of sadness.

Suffice to say, I'm happy to turn the page on last year. There were certainly sparks. I loved that it was the year of my first half IronMan. I loved meeting new people, coaching, mentoring, being PRESENT for my family. I loved my friends and family who were present for ME. I loved training and transforming myself back into a decent athlete. But the losses of my grandma, our dog, a dear cousin... and the hard choices, not getting to VT, not feeling like connecting with people, not feeling like ME, all made the year feel incredibly painful. I understand why it was, and why it had to be hard. And now I see the storm is clearing. Good timing, New Year's 2024, GOOD TIMING. 

And that brings me to my word for 2024: LOVE. Love for me. Love for you. Love for God. Love for what I do. Love for how I do it. Love for strangers. Love for enemies. Love for difficult relationships. Love for difficult workouts. Love for the easy decisions. Love for the challenges. Love, even when I may not like it. Love overall - that is my light and my guide this year. LOVE, LOVE, LOVE. 

I am happy that this first week of 2024, there are lots of matchsticks already lit - track workouts, ramp tests, social time with friends, playing outside. I stayed active in December, despite my misery, but generally backed off the training, save for that glorious outdoor bike ride on Winter Solstice which was both difficult and spectacular. Here in this first week of the new year, I'm feeling ready to go and the workouts have been FUN, not a chore! Rest is important for revival. Today I'll sign up for my next Ironman 70.3, and then the fun really begins!

What I know is, we have to do the work. And sometimes that work means we have to go through the wringer - physically, emotionally - for at least a little bit. I really am GRATEFUL for 2023, as difficult as it was. Training-wise, I *really* did the work. I physically turned myself around because I WORKED. And emotionally, I did that work, too. I could have eaten a million cookies and drank the house dry, but I chose not to. I chose to sit with the bad feelings. I chose to figure out healthier ways for me to navigate grief - a process that never really ends but does get easier with practice and helpful coping mechanisms. And while I don't wish the experience of grief on me or anyone else, nor do I expect I'll never go through it again, I certainly appreciate the lessons from this round. I appreciate that I did the work. I appreciate that I chose Healthy Me. And I see how love helped me do that. 

Here in 2024, I will continue choosing love. I commit to do the work, because I know I will love the result. Will this year be all sunshine and roses? Of course not. But I am hoping for more ups than downs, and if a big storm comes, I know love will shine a light toward my little matchsticks. In the meantime, love has already started doing the work to build up that fire of joy. 

Happy 2024 everyone. Go be great! 

--

p.s. The love is worth the grief. Love is eternal and grows exponentially. In my experience [which I hardly believe to be unique] grief is intense and terrible in the beginning, but it does subside, while the love never ends. 

--

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." 

- 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 (NIV)

a grateful heart

This has been a challenging month. The first week, we lost our beloved dog of 12 years. He went in the sweetest way possible, he just walked out into the backyard on a beautiful morning and died under the big tree. He had shown no signs of decline or discomfort, so his death was a very unexpected shock. It's taken the better part of the month for us to get used to living without him. Every day gets a little better, but we miss him and will continue to love him forever. I really am grateful for the 12+ years of joy he brought to our lives - they weren't always perfect moments, and grief is no fun, but we had a multitude of good times, memories, love and companionship over the years, and I wouldn't trade any of it. I am so glad Marco was our doggie and we were his humans. 

So now we've been getting used to Solo Polo. Let me tell you what, she's a GREAT dog. We knew she was easier than Marco, but we had no idea how little we were all interacting with her, and vice versa - it seems we all let Marco do the communicating! Since he's been gone, it's been a joy to watch Polo really warm up to us and show her personality these past few weeks. We're still working on her greetings and interactions with other dogs, but overall, she's come such a long way since we got her. I'm really grateful she joined our family. 

I'm also super grateful I can run. Our friends came to visit for Thanksgiving and suggested doing the Turkey Trot, so we signed up for it last week. I haven't been training to run at all, but I'm happy I can pick up and do a 4-miler. At the start I thought "I'd like to finish this in under 40 minutes." Well, I came in at 39:59, and that included a poop stop for Polo! As we stopped, I decided it was more important to me to be with my family than to hit a time goal, so at the finish, I felt like it was a bonus I did both! I'm so glad we all shared this Turkey Trot experience. 

It sounds cheesy to list out these things I'm grateful for, but I can't help it. There's really a lot of uncertainty in our lives, and obviously none of us can control when or how our favorite souls will depart their earthly bodies - but I am so grateful for the time I get to spend with mine. It's hard to lose a loved one, but the gift of life goes on. Being thankful for who is around me helps me be present so I can better enjoy the gift. 

I hope you're having a healthy end to your November, and doing the best you can to take care of YOU. 

OUCH! Plantar fasciitis for the fall...

While I was in Philly the last week of September, my left foot was getting a little feisty. This went on intermittently for a couple weeks, and then there were two days straight that I really couldn't walk. Mr. Scandinavian Mullet told me I needed to go see someone. I knew he was right, but I texted my coach to get her thoughts and she confirmed it. So, I went to my doctor, who said it was most likely plantar fasciitis, but ordered an Xray to rule out a stress fracture. RATS. The good news is, no stress fracture. The bad news is, it is plantar fasciitis (PF) which can take a LONG TIME to heal. DOUBLE RATS.

I gave myself a day to wallow, and do whatever internet sleuthing I could (hey, we all play Dr. Google, whether or not we admit it). Injury is [obviously] no fun. Forced downtime, when you love to go go GO, is OK for 24 hours, or even 48, but after that, I miss my runs. Someone needs to go to the store, clean the house, walk the dogs - I don't like feeling as if I can't support my household! On the other hand... the universe is unfolding exactly as it should, and perhaps this was a nudge to sit down (I mean, my Garmin is definitely telling me that!) and take a breath, for just a minute. OK, fine, but while I'm sitting, I'm still gonna try figuring out a way out of, or around this ailment, right?!? RIGHT!

Back to Dr. Google. Suffice to say you should never do ANYTHING you find on the interwebs, before you confirm it with an actual medical professional. BUT an Actual Medical Professional had responded to a thread in an athlete group I follow, saying "If you ask 100 people with plantar fasciitis what worked for them, you will get 100 different answers. The key is to find what works for you." Many people (including some medical professionals) insisted that finding the root cause is key, and usually involves a lot of stretching the muscles associated with the root cause - not just the foot muscles and the plantar fascia - to remedy the problem. That, and intense massage (which my own doctor had suggested) seemed to offer the best results to the most people. 

In my search, I discovered several athletes had used a massage gun (similar to this one) and gotten relief. I have one of these, so I tried it. Lo and behold, three days of using it just before bed, plus doing the stretches I found explained in this video, and my PF was all but GONE. Pretty awesome outcome! Now I was free to go enjoy the rest of my fall. Seriously, I went to FL and had a great time running around and go-karting with my niece and nephew, helping my mom with house jobs, and never had a problem. I kept up the stretches while there, and it's been over 10 days that I'm still pain-free. I found what worked for me, wanted to share in case it might help you, too!

Injury is no fun. But the takeaway here is, don't ignore prolonged pain. Don't think it will get better or go away, don't try to push through it. If something has been bothering you for more than 10 days, don't risk it becoming a permanent handicap, or turning into something that will require surgery to fix. Get it checked out so you can face whatever it is, and fix it, and go back to having fun living your active life. Take care of you. 

--

Video explaining Plantar fasciitis and stretches to help: How to Fix Plantar Fasciitis - Athlean X

Video explaining using a massage gun for plantar fasciitis relief - note, I used the technique in this video, but with the ball attachment, it worked great for me: Relieve Plantar Fasciitis With a Massage Gun - Dr. Jin