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 

hello, October!

It's my favorite month, and not just because my birthday falls here. I love the leaves, I love the light, I love the CRISP FALL AIR and all of the apples and pumpkins, please. I love the chiminea on the patio with the twinkle lights behind it. I love all the birthdays, especially mine and my nephew's, and of course I love Halloween.

This month I'm getting back into regular weight training. What's working for me so far is doing it first thing in the morning. Believe me I almost never want to peel myself out of my warm, cozy bed to do a workout, but regardless of my early morning toddler mentality, I'm always very happy I just did it anyhow. I like the results that come with CONSISTENCY.

I had to give up Trainer Road rides last week because my LeMond is in the shop. There is a recall on certain Shimano Ultegra and Dura Ace cranskets on bikes sold between 2012 and 2023 (that's an 11-year period!) and you have to take your bike in for inspection to see if it's affected. I am glad I checked, I'm glad I took it in, because I have damage due to the issue. I'm in the first batch of cranks the bike shop sent back to Shimano, so no idea on timing, but hopefully I'll get that bike back by the end of the month. In the meantime, I'm adapting - I now join the Trainer Road group workouts on my erg! I turn off the camera so as not to give anyone motion sickness, and I've figured out that erg watts do not, in any way, translate to the bike watts prescribed on Trainer Road... but I can use the % effort gauge just fine. The weather is WAY too nice for me to put my other road bike on the trainer just yet, so, this works for now.

Every October, my cousin hosts a fall camp-out on their land, and it was this past weekend. People bring their own RVs or tents, but they also have a guest bedroom, cabins, and RVs to stay in. In the past, we've stayed in one of the RVs already down there, but this time Mr. Scandinavian Mullet thought it would be a great opportunity to test out tent camping with both dogs. Well, overnight lows here in CO were slated to be in the high 30s for the weekend, and It's been a good TEN YEARS since we pitched a tent. So last week, from starting the Gear Closet Cleanout project to find equipment, all the way through the Frantic Cooler Packing session just before we departed, let's just say I was less than thrilled about this dog-camping-in-the-cold experiment. But once we got there and the air mattress was blown up inside the tent (hey, it is car camping!) I felt a LOT better about it all. 

It was so nice to see my cousins, it's been over a year! Catching up with them, and with friends, was wonderful, even more so because we had perfect fall weather - a warm afternoon that rolled right on through a beautiful sunset behind Colorado's southern mountains. And then as the evening cooled off, we were around a gloriously warm campfire with the best smelling wood on the planet! The dobers were CHAMPS. They had lots of dog friends to play with, people to give them pets, and when it came time for us to go to sleep, they were SO happy to be cozied up with us in the tent. I didn't expect us to sleep well, but we were actually super comfy and surprisingly warm, and Patrick's Garmin even told him his sleep score IMPROVED! It's unlikely we'll camp again this year, but now we know the dogs are no issue, hooray! 

For me, camping does not bode well for ANY sort of consistently healthy behavior. Neither does ending the camping trip with a big BBQ meal out. But I have to say I did better than I had on past camping trips AND BBQ meals! While camping, I opted out of s'mores... believe me I never ever thought THAT would happen. I had one more adult beverage than I planned, and I really did my best to stay away from the food area (95% success). Was I perfect? No. Did I fall short of how I wanted the weekend to go, health-wise? Yes. But did I wake up feeling good? Yes. And did my healthy behaviors improve when compared to the last camp out? Absolutely, by leaps and bounds! And when we went to the BBQ, I didn't end the meal with peach cobbler, because I recognized I was totally satisfied. And I did that - recognized satisfaction - all weekend. So yes, I CAN CHANGE, I'm doing that and I will take those wins and say GO, ME!

But I won't pretend that there weren't a LOT of mental gymnastics going on all week leading up to, and then throughout the camping weekend. Giving myself grace like that last paragraph is still very hard for me to do. I had several conversations with my internal meanie, but I ultimately ended up being nice to me, and so was able to have a great time enjoying my family, friends, and the beautiful surroundings. I wish I were better about getting to that point SOONER, but I know that takes practice. This is a process, and I am grateful that this weekend gave me the opportunity to keep practicing. 

This morning I got right back on the consistency track with my Trainer Road group (still on the erg). I'm looking forward to a healthy week with resumed consistency ahead, so... Onward to a HEALTHY and HAPPY OCTOBER! 

season of sadness

Yesterday I said to Mr. Scandinavian Mullet "Hey, I did a lot better than I thought at my race in July." And he said "ABSOLUTELY! You did amazing, considering what you were going through, and your run was incredible!" Trust me when I say I loved hearing that from him, but my point is I realized it and said it aloud to another human. 

That race, like the Colorado Triathlon in June, was a glorious piercing blip of joy during a very dark period of Death and Destruction. I am no different from any athlete who feels a bit lost and let down after The Big Event is finished - those weeks or months when you don't know whether to sleep in to recover or go for a 40-mile hill ride, whether you want to do the intervals at track or if you should even bother putting on the running shoes in the first place. And then your Garmin tells you you are "Detraining" - whatever that new word is, you're well aware you are the definition of it. And then, your sister says on the phone that she's cleaning out Grandma's house, the realtor wants to list it before fall. 

October 2021, random road
trip to Grandma's house.

Wait, we have a realtor? Does Mom know you're doing this? 

Yes. We have a realtor. We have photos. We have a listing and we have offers. Several offers. Help me with the offers. Why do the sellers get passed all of the info about all of the buyers, can't the realtor just narrow it down to the good candidates, and send us those without all the commentary? This one sent a letter. Her family is in the neighborhood. She loves the old phone and pencil sharpener in the basement. [I want a pencil sharpener in MY basement.] The house reminds her of her grandparents' house and she would love to live in it. I can hear Grandma: Oh, honey, you can have it, just take good care of it. 

The close is set for so close, there's no way I can go. You never think the last time you went somewhere will be THE LAST TIME you went there. And then your mom says she'll pay for the plane ticket. Oh. Hello Universe, smacking me upside the head to say of course you're going, she needs support. I can pay for the ticket, it's only $200, this is important and it is no sweat to shift things around so I can be there for this very, very sad thing. 

And I am sad. Very, very sad. I'm going to be sad NO MATTER WHAT, whether I stay here in CO or I go to help pack up the last of my Grandma's things with my mom, in the place that's been one of my home bases for over 45 years. Also trust me when I say that I know, if I'm sad about this impending chore, my mom is at least doubly so, since it was her home base for almost 70 years. And I hate that my mom is sad. This has been a hard, hard couple weeks of trying to find joy in anything. I've been...

Calling friends. 

Journaling. 

Getting back into regular workouts. 

Giving my mentoring everything I've got. 

Reading. 

Walking my dogs. 

Cleaning and organizing my house. 

Getting enough rest. 

Turning off the news. 

Turning on music I love.

Volunteering. 

Tracking all my macros and joining Halloween Health Challenges. 

Going to yoga. 

Writing my gratitude lists each day.

Some of it temporarily lifts my mood, some does not, but I'm trying out healthy ways to cope with the overarching gloom. And I have to say, I'm super happy it's the beginning of fall because the doggy walks are so very pretty. Sunlight in September is spectacular, all times of the day.

What I haven't been doing is overeating, overdrinking, oversugaring... and this is a win. I'm still working toward being a better triathlete. Win. Working toward being a better human, win, and especially a human who is more kind to ME. One who values themself and their accomplishments, and wants to keep growing and doing better. BIG WIN. 

I'm turning a corner. So many corners. 

becoming intentionally grateful

Today I am grateful for Mr. Scandinavian Mullet, our house, and the beautiful fall-ish weather here at the end of the summer. I am grateful for many, many more things than these, but those are the three on my list right now. 

Free gratitude printable available
at CarrieElle.com.

Earlier this year, I started cultivating a habit of listing out three things I am thankful for each morning when I wake up, and three more each night before I sleep. At the time, several people I knew independently were doing this and talking about what a positive impact it had on their life. It seemed such a small thing, it took only a minute or two, I figured it couldn't hurt to try it myself.

Well, initially this turned out to be difficult for me to actually do. I either couldn't think of three things, or I couldn't remember to DO IT, and instead of feeling blissfully grateful I'd end up sorely frustrated with myself for my failure to implement this habit. So much for it adding to my life. 

Despite my frustration, I kept trying. I remember wondering how everyone else could come up with so many things - I was always defaulting to "my husband, my dogs, and our good health" [which, to be clear, are absolutely worthy things to list and I am very, very grateful for all of them]. Looking back, even though it was predictable and boring, listing the same three things was a great start to establish the habit. Eventually I got more creative with what I listed. And now I am pretty sure I could easily fill up this page with things, people, places, tastes, moments and experiences I am thankful for, just in the past 24 hours! 

What I've noticed is I am generally happier now, than I was at the beginning of the year. I feel less stressed overall, and when stress does come (I mean, it's life, after all) I'm able to see it for what it is - stress, an uncomfortable feeling about a situation. And I see it, I feel it and move on instead of reacting to it by letting it take root in my thoughts, dictate my emotions and ruin my mood. THIS is progress and I am grateful for THAT. 

Leaves are starting to turn here in Colorado and there is snow up on Mt. Blue Sky. We went to our first Oktoberfest celebration last night at Seedstock Brewery, and yup, you guessed it: I am grateful for new friends who introduced me to a wonderful new brewery, old friends to catch up with over beers and brats while there, and the glorious, PERFECT weather we had while sitting out on the patio. I expect by the end of today I'll be grateful for bike rides, fresh veggies, and a delicious dinner we cook on the grill. I hope you have a great week full of things to be thankful for. 

--

"... give thanks in all circumstances..." - 1 Thessalonians 5:18, NIV

snacks

I had an awesome visit with a longtime friend this past weekend. We had a great time catching up, as friends do. I drank a lot of beer with her. We hiked up a mountain together. We split meals and laughed a lot. What we didn't do, the whole time she was here, was eat any snacks. Honestly, our meals were fairly substantial, even the ones we split, and I just wasn't hungry between meals. Noted.

Typically I do find myself a bit hungry between meals, and many days me and Mr. Scandinavian Mullet eat dinner late due to afternoon workouts. Those times, I need something lighter than a full meal to hold me over or fuel a workout, so, SNACKS to the rescue! When I need a snack, I aim to make it as healthy as possible. Here are some of my go-tos:

• 1/2 oz. of nuts (usually walnuts or almonds, but I love all kinds - cashews, pistachios, macadamias, pecans)
• cottage cheese with fruit (and possibly add cinnamon and ground flax)
• beef jerky
• lean sliced deli ham (or turkey, but I prefer ham)
• pickles - actually, try a slice of turkey wrapped around a pickle, it's delicious!
• olives
• sauerkraut
• cut raw veggies (carrot slices, cucumber slices, bell peppers, etc) and a Wholly Guacamole pack. You can also make a ranch dip out of Greek yogurt and a ranch seasoning packet - add seasoning to the yogurt until you like the taste!
• banana and a Tbsp of peanut butter
• protein bars or shakes. I like the WW brand Chocolate Fudge Protein Bars, and for pre-made shakes I like the Orgain Creamy Chocolate Fudge and the Fairlife Chocolate milk protein drinks (both available at Costco). For powders, Optimum Nutrition makes great whey protein powders, we have both the Vanilla Ice Cream and Extreme Milk Chocolate flavors (also available at Costco). They dissolve really well in just a shaker bottle with water and have great flavor! You can also make healthy-type milkshakes with them, I mix the vanilla with frozen fruit in a blender, or the chocolate with some ice cubes and some PB2 powdered peanut butter... awesome!
• string cheese
• 1 oz. of Cabot cheddar cheese, or brie
• A square of REALLY GOOD dark chocolate. It doesn't have to be expensive, one of my favorites is from Trader Joe's, their 72% Belgian Dark Chocolate bar. 
• 100-calorie packs of pretzels (really great snack before a hot afternoon workout)

Enjoying our celebratory beer snack after a nice
5-mile hike up and down Ptarmigan Peak

If you look at my food tracker, you'll see I usually enter wine, beer, and whiskey as Snacks. I do this because these are not part of the nutrition of a meal, they are optional add-ons... not healthy ones, but hey, wine is an antioxidant, and sometimes you want to enjoy a beer snack with a friend, right? You'll also see that I don't really snack on chips, ice cream, cookies, candy etc. I don't keep that stuff in the house, so it's pretty easy to avoid. Doesn't mean I won't have chips and guac, or a couple cookies someone made or brought to a party, or an occasional ice cream cone... but keeping this stuff out of my house makes consuming it a much less frequent event. And finally, I love pretzels but portion control there is a BIG challenge for me, so when I keep those in the house, they are in individual serving bags. Know thyself and be sure to set YOU up so your snack options don't derail your best healthy efforts.

This coming week I want to experiment with making my meals a little larger and decreasing the snacks. I'm no longer training heavily, so I'm guessing I'll get less hunger signals, which makes me think this is a great time to try it. And with my friend's visit, I already started the experiment! Stay tuned...

And have a great healthy week! Hope you are setting yourself up for success. :)

the magic

Last night was a no-drop ride with our triathlon club. Well, only me and Mr. Scandinavian Mullet showed up to meet our club's coach! To everyone else's credit, it was HOT, it was an afternoon ride out in the foothills (not central) and it looked like rain was going on out that way. So, I understand the low turnout. Sort of. But with such a tiny group, it was definitely no-drop! 

Patrick and Charley in
Bear Creek Lake State Park

We showed up miraculously on time. And even though it was just us three, off we went. Coach Patron had picked a really great route, one I'd never ridden, through a really nice neighborhood then down to a bike path and into Bear Creek Lake State Park. Mr. Scandinavian Mullet was thrilled we got to ride up the dam. And then we dropped in to a tour of the park, while we threaded our way through the edges of the late afternoon thunderstorms. Climbing out of the park and onto the C-470 trail, we had a brilliant rainbow shining over our start/finish point off in the distance, so we got to chase that beauty for the last five miles. It was a really great night - the photo here shows some of the magic we experienced. 

Since completing IM70.3 Oregon, I've been a little out of sorts. I know it's common to feel a bit of a let-down after finishing A Big Thing, but it's also annoying. I'm not one to wallow, but I definitely had a day of that this past week - one day. And then I went to a track workout at the end of the day. And the next day, I went on this bike ride. And, boom, I feel like ME again. I really think I just needed to grieve the end of my Season of Fun. 

Leadville Trail 10K (at 10K!)

Speaking of... the end-of-season event happened this past weekend, I ran the Leadville Trail 10K on Sunday with Johna and hundreds of other crazy people. It's pretty awesome, though I hadn't run at high altitude, well, EVER, so that was interesting! (Leadville is 10,152' above sea level.) And it was the first longer run I've done since my half IM. The first three miles were downhill, beautiful views, and totally manageable. Then you turn around and run back to town, so the last three miles are uphill and, well... at least it's pretty coming back into town, too! I finished in 1:07:59. I was running 9:32/mile pace for the first three miles, but for the whole course I'm at 10:52/mile, so you can see how that back half went! But I ended up finishing well inside the top 50% for my age group and for my gender overall, so I'm pretty happy about that! And I got to meet the Macy family - they're an amazing group, and Mace ran his 25th run there with his whole family - kids, grandkids and many friends. Overall, this 10K at 10K was a super fun thing to do - five stars, highly recommend! 

I can forgive myself for my day of sadness. Yes, this season was magic, but the magic still comes. Go do the workout, go do the ride - it won't always be there, but the magic will come. 

race report - Oregon IM70.3 - in 7,500+ words!

I'll just call myself out, here: I've been procrastinating writing this because once I do, that means it's really and truly over. I mean, as I start writing this, it's been nine days since the race and I'm still wearing the red plastic IronMan70.3 athlete armband. BUT, I DID IT!! So here is the report in a lot of words... I took out some of the gory details to make this palatable for my non-athlete friends and family. (If you want the whole shebang, send me an email.) But this is plenty of words to get the gist of my first endurance race, so... Settle in, folks. 

ARRIVAL

I was not prepared for the mental stress that comes in the taper weeks. Those are the two weeks before the race where you've backed WAY OFF from working out to let your body recover and get ready to give the best effort you can on race day. Thankfully the nightmares went away, but my mind was constantly on overdrive. I made list after list after list, including a list of all the lists I needed to make! This did help... somewhat. I'm not sure if the decision to travel to your first half IM is a good one but honestly, I know I'd have been stressed about completing my first half IronMan distance whether or not I traveled to do it. Once we were safely in Salem (we drove, from Denver) and were physically inside the IronMan Village, I definitely felt we'd cleared a major milestone. Onward!

We arrived Friday afternoon, along with 2,326 of the 2,500 athletes. Mr. Scandinavian mullet assumed his alter-ego of St. Patrick and stood in the check-in line for me, while I shopped for my IM-branded swag. Of course I had to do that FIRST because I'd heard after the first day, there's nothing left. True statement, as I snagged the last of the IM logo shirts with the names printed on them in my size. (BONUS! My name is in the head/dot of the IM logo!!) I also grabbed two event visors, because this journey is as much Mr. Scandinavian Mullet's to claim as it is my own, and because Happy Couples Match, dang it. [He LOVED the visor and now wears it all the time, wife WIN!!]

Athlete check-in, once in, was kind of a mess but fine. Actually, I was surprised that IronMan wasn't a little more organized. I mean, everyone had to stand in this huge line snaking through the unshaded center of the village. There was no separation for people who had already signed the forms online ahead of time. Of course I had pre-signed, but there was no benefit to me doing that, other than generally making the big line go faster. Once I got to the front of the line, the guy who checked me in as Athlete #1149 and put the red band on my wrist was also nice enough to trim the corners so I wouldn't scratch myself or my wetsuit - very nice touch, Mr. Seasoned IM Volunteer, definitely not his first rodeo! So now I was all numbered up, I had my packet, I picked up my free race t-shirt (too big, to be exchanged out Saturday after 3PM) so this was happening! 

I couldn't decide whether to stick around for the athlete briefing at 6, or to just catch it Saturday - it wasn't for over an hour. I saw the woman who won the age group at the Colorado Tri (the Olympic I'd done in June) walking around. I told Patrick "Oh my gosh, that's Betsy Mercer! She's the woman who won my age group at the Olympic in Boulder!" He said I should go talk to her. "Um, no, that would be weird." But I was happy she was there. I felt like it was good luck that I saw her, a sort of sign I was going to have a great race, as I did when we raced together in Colorado. We decided to catch one of the athlete briefings the next day. 

The carb loading was extremely fun. I basically started at dinner on Thursday and went on through breakfast on Saturday. I ate an entire bag of pretzels over the course of Friday and Saturday. I had also been topping off my electrolytes all week. It helps to have friends who have done this before, they give you some good tips! I generally made sure to consume mostly very nutrient-dense food the two weeks before the race - I eat fairly healthy anyhow but was especially dialed in to optimize nutrition after the 4th of July. For the carb loading days, I added in pasta, a Belgian waffle with fruit, bagels... nothing crazy, but things I really don't usually have. Next time I'll do like our age-group winner did, and have a fancy cupcake or something *really* fun in there!

We stayed at a hotel in Albany, OR, a half hour south of the village. By choice, I wanted to be away from the action. I am easily distracted, I'd want to walk around, do all the things... when I know I needed to be off my feet and relaxing. We booked a hotel, because while an AirBnB or VRBO sounds fun, I also didn't want to deal with any potential issues like getting locked out, toilet breaking, chirping fire alarms, etc. [Incidentally the IM host hotel had the fire alarm go off the night before the race - yipes!] It was no big deal for us to drive back up to Salem on Saturday for me to ride the run course and then check in my bike. Luckily the one thing I forgot to pack, bike lube, was plentiful, but of course I couldn't find anyone with it, nor a mechanic who had it on hand, Saturday morning. My friend and training buddy, Kelly, to the rescue - she had some and met me with it! YIPPEE! We got to catch up for a bit and I met Aaron, whom Kirsten had also convinced to do this race. And then it was bike check-in time for me! 

Racking your bike the day before the race is spectacular, and having assigned bike spaces is the stuff triathlon dreams are made of. My race # was the lucky winner of an end-of-the-rack slot, so I had a few extra inches of room, hooray! We decided to go to the hotel and shower up, then come back for the last athlete briefing and do my t-shirt exchange. 

Back at the village that afternoon, I swapped out my too-big shirt with no problem, then had about a half hour before the briefing started. I wanted to rest my legs by sitting down in the grass and as I was looking for a spot, I saw her again! OK, Universe, I hear you saying "Go talk to her." I walked over and said "Hello, are you Betsy Mercer?" Yes. I told her we'd shared the podium at the Olympic in June, I had come in second to her, and I had no idea then that she was a famous amazing athlete, but now that I know, I wanted to say 'hi' and 'Awesome job.'" She busted out laughing and seemed genuinely surprised and amused. Her friend Michael lamented that everyone knew Betsy, but no one knew who he was! Well, I made Michael my new friend, too, which meant that now I knew who he was. And he was doing the race with his best friend from kindergarten, Dave. Fifty years later they're still friends, doing triathlons together... except this was Dave's first ever triathlon! AMAZING that someone would choose a 70.3 to be their first! So we all had a fun chat, including Patrick and Dave's wife, and we were all still talking as the athlete briefing went on. I missed most of it, but Kelly and Aaron had already filled me in, and my coach had given me lots of tips since she did it last year. So while I never got the official briefing, the Universe definitely wanted me to be back at the course to meet Betsy, Michael and Dave.

On our way back to the hotel, we drove the bike course, which was an out-and-back [we only drove the "out"]. I'm glad we did this, because while IronMan marked the course "Flat", the elevation profile indicated otherwise, and the hills in my head were a lot worse than what we found while driving. The hills are really only as you are leaving town, and they were not nothing! I knew they'd be rough, and especially as you ride back to town being tired, but they weren't too bad, and the rest of the course actually was very flat, totally manageable. Same with the railroad tracks, everyone commented to be ready for bottles flying out of their cages, there. But in reality, it didn't seem bad, just normal tracks and I've ridden over plenty of those! The course was BEAUTIFUL. Once you come out of town you take this 90-degree bend to the right and head straight into The Pretty - flower fields, vineyards, mountain backdrop, OH MY! And we got to see the turn-around point, so I'd know what to expect there (you're doing a 180 on an uphill, but it was fine.) We did the drive during the golden hour of sunset, and it really got me excited for the next day. 

And then we had dinner, I got myself ready for the race - nerves and stuff did come, but I voiced it to Patrick and saying it aloud and letting it go probably went a long way toward me actually being OK with it. I went to bed and slept well. WIN. 

RACE MORNING

Sunday morning, we left our southern location at 4:15AM and got up to Salem with plenty of time to walk into transition for the 5AM opening. Because we were so early, there was zero line for the Port-a-Potty, so in I went and everything that needed to come out, did! Clearing that milestone had me starting the day feeling like I'd already won. 

Transition setup was fine. I pumped up my tires using the provided pumps - another bonus to being there early is you don't stress about time, because it's abundant! While setting up, I was very glad I had a headlamp - thank you to my coach for that suggestion. Most races, the sun is coming up when you get to transition, but not this one, because you need extra time to walk the mile up to the swim start. After I put all my bike snacks into the bento box on my bike and put the bottles in the cages, I wanted one more bathroom stop inside transition before I got in the swim line. Of course, the bathroom line was LONG by then, but I was still stocked up on plenty of time. 

I came back to my bike to put on my wetsuit, and I look up and lo and behold, directly across the rack was DAVE. He and I were ONE NUMBER off, what a nice surprise! And lucky him, he also had an end-spot on the bike rack - very awesome luck for us first-timers! Betsy and Michael stopped by to help him get set up, and we all got to bestow good race vibes on each other before we joined the swim queue. Third win of the day, and I'm not even out of transition... YES.

Athletes have to line up for the swim start based on their expected swim time for 1900 meters, without factoring in the advantage of the river current. I'd done the Olympic 1500 meters in 34 minutes, so my coach figured I should line up somewhere around 42 or 44 minutes. I'm an OK open water swimmer, and I was surprised that being in the 42-44 minute group meant that at least 75% of the field was in front of me. Alrighty, then, in line I go! Morning chit chat with strangers in proximity was generally nice. Once the athlete mob started walking, you lose people, you find them again. The walk up to the start really is not bad, and even with the intermittent chatting, there is a lot of silence and - certainly in my case - prayer going on. We were all laughing about this. I had a water bottle and a banana, to be consumed closer to the actual start, and another bottle to prime my wetsuit (basically to dump down my wetsuit to get it wet and warmed before I jumped in the river). The river water temp had come up to where the pros were not allowed to wear a wetsuit, but all of us mere mortals were in them.

The only hiccups for the race were immediately prior to the start. There were bins near the swim start where you could drop your morning clothes bag, a plastic bag with your athlete number on it, into which you can put your shoes and any clothes like a jacket or something that you wore to walk up to the swim start. You drop the bags into the bins before you get into the river, and then pick them up later in the transition area after the race. The placement of the bins into big grids was absolute chaos with hundreds of athletes trying to wade through them at once, and they were set on top of very prickly cut hay with straw-like needles poking into your bare feet. Again, for an IronMan, I was surprised there wasn't better organization or at least some mats here, but at least I got my bag into the right bin, my feet didn't get stabbed and I wasn't bleeding. One hurdle cleared. 

Then just beyond the bin and stabby-feet madness, you're almost at the start, but you still can't see it.  There is this little makeshift wooden plank staircase down the riverbank that ends at a small floating dock (about a 5' x 8' dock) from which you'll jump into the river. The wood "stairs" were wet and SLICK - there was no railing, just a flimsy rope through some posts. This was easily the most terrifying part of my day. I had visions of my feet going out from under me, me taking out several other athletes and abruptly ending our race before it even began. EVERYONE was going very slowly down these stairs; some grip tape or a better surface really would have helped. I was so worried about slipping that I barely heard the volunteers tell us "Swim left until you get around the sandbar then swim right." But I am glad I heard that, because it was important.

And then I stepped gingerly from the last slick plank down onto the dock, which already had a few racers on it and the volunteers are telling us "Get into the water", so all of a sudden, I just jumped in with the others and TOOK OFF! 

THE SWIM

Once you jump into the water (your goggles will stay on!) you can see the big sandbar ahead on the right, about 100 yards out. The current is gently pulling you to your right, so you DO need to actively swim left to get around the sandbar... If you start floating downstream with the sandbar to your left, an official on a jet ski will come rescue you, but you really don't want to be That Guy. [We had watched a swimmer get jet-ski rescued from the top of the banks, before we got to the Scary Staircase.] For me, it didn't take long to clear the sandbar, maybe a minute? Which was actually sort of crazy, because that meant I was swimming one-minute 100s, but whatever. As soon as I cleared it, I turned right immediately to point myself downstream, which was also STRAIGHT INTO the rising sun. 

Swim entry at center of shot - note swimmers
curving around big sandbar, into the rising sun.

I could see nothing but sun glare through my polarized goggles - no buoys, no kayaks, no other swimmers, just blinding bright sun and sun reflection. I kept swimming, straight into the sun. I finally turned my head to look left and I saw the trees on the bank of  the other side of the river FLYING BY! We were going SO FAST! I just started laughing. I noticed there were a lot of swimmers way over on that side of the river, which I thought was weird because we were going to have to make a right turn to exit, and they would have to swim all the way back across the river. I was barely swimming, here, mostly laughing. But even so, I felt like I was swimming past everyone. I think I may have lined up too far back in the swim queue, or I can take Patrick's view that everyone lies about their swim times and moves themselves up in the line. Either way, I swam past so many others, and I don't think anyone swam past me. Noted for next time. 

Because of the sun, I could really only see the buoys once I was about two feet from them, or even past them. I wish I had known how many there were, so I could count and know where I was on the course. I truly couldn't see downstream - I got kicked by a swimmer as I swam over him, he was very apologetic about the kick but I'm the one who swam over him, because I couldn't see he was right there! The kick really wasn't a big deal, and both of us were laughing over how blind we all were with the sun. A volunteer called to us on the right that we needed to keep the buoys to our right (they were along the right bank of the river). Aha... I can use the kayakers and paddleboarders, too. So, I called out, "Where are you? We can't see!" "We're on your right, keep us on your right." Whenever I completely lost sight of the buoy line or the next volunteer, I'd call to the volunteers to "Please call out, we can't see!" and they answered! GOD BLESS the woman on the paddleboard before the third-to-last buoy, she yelled out "Three more buoys then a right turn into the finish." I was surprised we were already that close. I looked over toward the left bank again to watch the trees racing by. GLEE. 

Those last three buoys went by in a flash. I wanted time to slow down, because this flume ride down the river was the best start to a day I've had in nearly 45 years. But all good things come to an end, I knew I had a pretty bike ride ahead, and this was a race after all! I took one last look at the trees speeding by the left bank and thanked God for the great start to the day as I made the right turn into the cove. 

I immediately saw all the volunteers in their bright yellow shirts on the dock, about 100 yards away. Those shirts were a BEACON! I started aiming about twenty yards to the right of them, knowing the current would push me to the left. As I got closer a kayaker told me I needed to "Swim left, NOW!" You can see the volunteers, but you can't see the ramps out of the water until you're a lot closer. I swam right up into the ramp on the far right, and that was it for my swim! 

As you leave the dock from the riverbank, there is this curly-cue circular ramp you run up, and there are a lot of spectators cheering and asking "How was it?" So I yelled out "FIVE STARS! HIGHLY RECOMMEND! I want to go again!" I pulled my wetsuit down, made sure I had my goggles and swim cap securely in my hand and then let go of them in the sleeve as I pulled it off, still jogging along the very long path to the transition area. Patrick was there, cheering me on, which was so nice. 

T1 (Transition 1)

Like a good little triathlete, I had peed in the water before getting out of the river, so no need for any bathroom break. I got my wetsuit fully off pretty quickly and grabbed a few pretzels to chew while I was putting on my helmet, gloves, socks and shoes. And then I pulled my bike off the rack and started running with it toward the exit to Bike Out. It's a long run through transition, but it's all grass, so it's easy on the bike cleats. You have to cross a road and railroad tracks before you can mount your bike. Sounds worse than it is, the volunteers and police were spectacular. 

And then all of a sudden, I'm on my bike heading out of town toward the vineyards!

THE BIKE

There were a lot of us leaving at the same time, but it didn't feel super crowded. I was worried about a curbed roundabout in that first half-mile, it was pretty narrow and a great way to get inexperienced riders to crash if they were grouped together, but we were spaced out plenty. The ride out is overall uphill, and the ride back is overall downhill, but you have ups and downs going both ways. They did a pretty good job marking road hazards with bright orange paint on the way out of town. 

Riders bunched up at the big hill - many people didn't shift into the right gear, or were just not prepared for the climb. As I navigated my route through the bike swarm, I narrated exactly what was going on because, well, many triathletes don't do group rides, so they don't know to give each other road and proximity cues. And some slower riders didn't know to move far right, and some were swerving terribly trying to stay upright on the climb. So I would say, "I'm coming up on your right, there is someone coming on your left, just stay straight." etc. There was a big glob of about 30 riders that I had to weave through, and I was very deliberate and vocal about every move. Because I live in Colorado and I ride things like Kathy Reynolds' Buns of Steel Hill Climb, this uphill was not difficult for me, other than riding a solid path through the many people who were expecting the course to be completely flat. Those riders became our land mines, but luckily the mine field lasted only a few minutes and I made it through unscathed. 

As we twisted down hills out of town, the pack thinned out again. There was some bunching around railroad tracks but nothing like the big hordes at the climbs. Some of the pro athletes were on their way back, so it was really fun to see them riding at us - they were MOVING! Of course, they were riding extra fast coming downhill, but regardless, they are SO SPEEDY, and it was such a thrill to see them. And then within a half hour of starting the ride, there it was, the right turn... I was riding with another guy and just before the turn I yelled out "Here it comes!" as we swept around the bend and careened down into the Willamette Valley with its glorious mountain backdrop. 

WHAT A GIFT. What a beautiful morning beneath blue skies and sunshine, between fields of flowers and rows of wine grapes and fruit trees. Lots of riders ahead and behind, but plenty of space. Similar to the swim, I was passing a lot of riders, but few were passing me. I probably had started too far back on the swim, but whatever, I was having a great time. I like saying "On your left" and ringing my bike bell. DING DING. Yes, I have a bike bell, yes, I use it in races, and YES, it's awesome. 

I was doing a pretty good job drinking and eating. I eat homemade beer bread (cut into small pieces) on the first half of the ride, before I switch over to gels. I had to laugh that beer bread, for a race in Oregon, was a great choice. But it's what I had trained with, it works super well for me, and I love it. I just have a bite every 15 minutes or so. At Mile 21, there was A LOT of "bottle carnage" strewn all over the road, bike water bottles everywhere! The road there was straight, there were no tracks, no nearby aid stations, so no explanation for why we had to dodge all these orphaned bottles. But me and all the riders near me made it through this minefield just fine. This was about the time I started feeling BAD. Like, Lady Business Bull$hit bad - I'd gotten my period the night before, and maybe that's TMI but it is what it is, that's what I was dealing with on race day, and this the point it became a problem. My legs and lungs felt fine, but I was cramping and I was having a hard time pulling myself up out of my aero bars. Ugggghhhhh I knew this would show up. A couple miles before the turn-around point, there was an aid station on the left, and I thought 'maybe I should stop now.' But then I figured there might be one at turn-around, so I'll ride there, and if no aid station is there, this one is close enough, I'll make it back. 

No aid station at the turn-around, and things were definitely NOT getting better. I was hoping the u-turn would mentally help me pick up my pace, but physically I was fading. I knew I had to get off the bike and stretch things out to try and make this better, as quickly as possible. As soon as I got to the aid station, I figured I might as well take advantage of the Port-a-Potty - no peeing on the bike for me! So, I racked my bike and ducked in. Came out and went to fill my water bottles (my fluids were right on track!) and, well, IronMan really does have stellar volunteers, this wonderful man refilled my bottles and put them on my bike while I did some quick stretching. Cadillac service, indeed! Thank you, thank you, to him and all the volunteers for being SO GREAT! My stop took less than five minutes, which was still lost racing time, but since I felt twenty thousand times better after stopping, it was worth it. And then it was time to get back on the bike and GO TO TOWN - literally!

With my stop, the bike field felt like was getting a little lonely, but there were still plenty of riders heading in, and plenty of opportunities for me to ring that bell! Because the crowd had spread out over the last 45 miles, the hills on the way back into town weren't nearly as treacherously crowded, and they were more down than up. The roads were also not as well marked for hazards; my tire slipped into a crack, but it also slipped right out without incident. I am very happy to say I successfully grabbed a gel from the last aid station while riding - I was worried about being able to do this but it was no problem! Within a few miles of transition, they coned off a lane of traffic for us, which made for a stress-free spin toward the transition area. Patrick had staked himself out at a great spot and I gave him a wave as I went by. I really had a great ride, except for that stupid period cramping incident, which had actually happened at the best time and was no longer an issue, so... time to get ready to enjoy a good run!

T2

Plenty of racers just pee on the go during a race. Other than while in the water, I am not one of them. Since my bike rack in transition was right next to a bank of Port-a-Potties, I popped in and out for my final bathroom stop during the race. Then I racked the bike and put on my shoes, race belt and visor. I dumped a salt packet into my water bottle [I run with my water bottle] and grabbed a few more pretzels with my other hand before shuffling out of transition. 

And then all of a sudden Patrick and the crowd are cheering me on as I'm heading to cross that big white bridge out toward the shaded run loops!

THE RUN

The sun was shining and there was not a cloud in sight. I knew the run out to where it's shaded was a little over a half-mile. The first mile off the bike is always full of doubt, but not this time. I felt good and I was gunning to GET TO THE SHADE. Once I was on that island, I'd be running through the enchanted forest for two loops before heading back through this patch of sun, and back over the bridge to the finish. A lot of racers were walking on the way out. I was glad I had trained to run right away, I really wanted to minimize my sun exposure! A nice little bonus was that there was a gravel shoulder next to the concrete running path. I could hear my coach saying, "If you can preserve your joints, DO." There wasn't always a gravel/dirt shoulder throughout the whole course, but where there was, I took advantage. I had to be careful to be on the path to cross the timing wires - luckily, they were always attached to a big yellow box on the side of the trail, so I hit them all. 

I didn't want to fixate on my watch too much, but I did look during mile two and I saw my pace was 9:20... WHOA, NELLY. I've never held THAT during a long run, so I figured I'd better back it down because I wanted to finish STRONG. The first loop was fun. It really was like running in an enchanted forest, though there were a few quarter-mile stretches in the sun and it was already getting pretty warm. I ran with my water bottle, which, if you can carry your water, I highly recommend it. (I trained this way, carrying a water bottle in my hand - you can use a belt or a pack, I saw lots of variations of others carrying their own water.) The nice thing about having the bottle with me is I can take a sip whenever I want, and get the bottle topped off at aid stations if needed. I also carry electrolyte drops, and putting that single-serving of those salt packs you get at restaurants into my bottle before I started was really saving me, because now it was HOT. But that first loop had a LOT of people on it. It's a 2-loop course, so many racers were on their second loop as I was on my first. I settled in around a 10:15 pace. I didn't really look at my watch much afer that, other than to check/confirm distance. 

Interesting about the run at this race, there are no spectators out on the island, just racers, volunteers and the trees. Lots of volunteers, but until you go back over that bridge, only you, the volunteers and your fellow athletes can cheer you on. I tried to cheer on as many people as possible. And there was one set of kids (I assume they were children of volunteers) with water guns - OF COURSE YOU CAN SPRAY ME, FRONT AND BACK! I had them hit me on both loops. It was super refreshing. I was also dumping ice down my kit to stay cool - again with the awesome volunteers, they did this for me!

As we came up on the split where finishers go straight and 2nd-loopers go left, there was a mile marker sign before it for "Mile 12" which was obviously for racers on their second loop. As we passed the sign, a guy yelled out "YES! We've only got ONE MORE MILE, everyone, let's GO!" And I laughed and said, "Unless you're on your first loop, then you've got seven more, but lucky you, go get that last mile!" And I really meant it, but he felt SO BADLY! I told him "No way, go crush that last mile, and in an hour, I'll do the same!" I really meant THAT, too. I wished him well again as we split.

I still felt good as I started the second loop. People were really starting to fall apart at this point. For a brief moment on Mile 8, I almost became one of them, I took in too much of a gel and immediately felt it in my gut. I slowed down and slogged a bunch of water, then grabbed some pretzels at the next aid station, and it passed. Hooray, ME for remembering the points in that Triathlon Magazine article about interpreting signals from your body. About a mile after that, my left hamstring was getting tight, so, more water, more electrolytes, keep going, keep picking people off! I'm three miles out and I am NOT STOPPING NOW. But. I did want to finish strong. And it felt quite warm, even in the shade and even though I'd been putting ice down my kit the whole run. So, I decided to take a two-minute walk break (while in the shade, I was NOT walking under any sunshine whatsoever!) to be sure I'd be able to run it in. I am very glad I mentally trained to run again after a short walk break. I used to just... keep walking, once I started, and then if I did start running, I'd walk again. But not anymore. A walk break is a quick, planned break and then it's back to business. Run it in.

This smile is courtesy of J'ne Day-Lucore's
stellar run coaching!

But as that second loop progressed, for most people the wheels just kept coming off. Lots of walkers, lots of people cramping up. As I jogged by one walker he yelled "Wow, you're running really well, maybe *I* should start training a mile high!" (My RMTC race kit has 'We Train a Mile High' printed on it.) I yelled back, "Don't feel bad, I'm coming from altitude and this is sea level, I definitely have an advantage!" 

But really, I had more of an advantage than that. I trained the run. I had started last June during a track workout, when I realized that to run faster, you have to actually RUN FASTER. And yeah, it might hurt or be uncomfortable, but odds are, you won't die. I kept going to track workouts, through the fall and all winter long, in the freezing cold, and dark. I did my hill repeats. I followed the training plan my awesome coach had laid out for me. I had hired a coach to help me do my first half IronMan; I didn't know she was a Hall-of-Fame runner when I hired her, and her expertise was a HUGE ADVANTAGE! But leading up to my race, I did the work, I trained to improve and had a goal to have a great run on race day. THAT was my advantage - it's why I was REALLY enjoying this run, even if I was hot and my hamstring was a little sassy. 

The "Mile 12" sign came up and this time, it applied to me. At the trail split, I peeled off toward the finish and I really couldn't believe athletes were walking the last mile. I mean, this is a RACE and we're heading for the finish, suck it up and pick up the pace, people! Even if you jog, this will all be over in fifteen minutes or less!

OH MY GOD. THIS WAS ALL GOING TO BE OVER IN FIFTEEN MINUTES OR LESS. 

I took a sharp breath. I nearly stopped moving. I wanted to push it, but I didn't want it to end. Oh. My. GOD. 

And then all of a sudden, I pushed my pace and took off toward the part of the path that was out in the sun. 

THE LAST MILE

Once I was in that sunshine, it felt like I was actually running on the surface of the sun. Not only that, I could feel I was running up an incline and I hadn't even gotten to the bridge, which seemed so far away. I could hear Charley in my head, yelling 'ALL OF THE MARBLES!' But it was hot, and this was now HARD. Fine. I can do hard things, so I kept going. A volunteer said, "Run toward the globe, that's where the finish is." I could see it on the other side of the bridge, it still seemed far, but now I was pretty sure I'd make it. But wait, where is the chute? Where do I go after the bridge, my watch says I have only a quarter mile left, one track lap, but I can't figure this out from over here! And what is making this last mile feel SO DIFFICULT? Whose brilliant idea was it to make us run UP and over a bridge to get to the finish? This hurts! WHY IS THERE SO MUCH SUNSHINE?!?!

So. Much. Sunshine. GO! Get over that bridge, and get into the finish chute - the loooooong finish chute. I made it in. It was lined with joyous, screaming spectators - the first I'd seen since the shaded island was closed off to them. I was so happy to see all these humans, waiting for their racing humans to come through, and cheering each of us on in the meantime. I was alone in the chute, and the announcer called my name well before I was at the finish line, but when I heard "From Denver, Colorado, Liz Birthright" I knew I HAD NEARLY DONE IT. I was coming up on the end of so much more than this race, and I knew that, too. Another sharp breath.

I had one more little uphill pass to that finish line - it wasn't over yet, and I wanted to BOOK IT. As I did so, I got a lot of "Way to finish STRONG!" cheers and comments from people. YES. I was FINISHING STRONG. WIN. I might have been levitating. I saw my friend Jeannette on the final push, actually she yelled "Go, Liz!" and I was thrilled to hear someone from the crowd yell out my own name. Go, Liz, indeed.

And then theere it was, the arch over the finish line - The End, and also, The Beginning. I raised my arms up as I crossed over it, saying a thank you to God and the Universe for All of the Everything. 

POST RACE

I feel the same right now as I did when I finished. I am so happy I did this, but so sad it's the end! All those workouts, all that planning, all that support, all that death and grief, the driving all the way back and forth across the entire USA, I got through all of it, I did the work, I leaned on my support system, I did it and I want to do another one!

Swim - 00:27:15, Bike - 03:33:17,
Run - 02:18:40 (PR!!)

A volunteer took off my timing chip in the finish area - bless her for saying "Don't worry about bending down, I'll get it." I saw Patrick, he was right there at the end of the finish area. He had been by my side the whole time and throughout all of this he was the absolute best cheerleader, training partner, sherpa and friend I've ever had. WE did this. Together. He ended up covering over ten miles on foot that day - being a spectator really is something you have to train for! I walked toward him. I almost walked out of the finish area without a finisher medal, until I saw a girl wearing hers and I asked no one in particular "Where do you get the medal?" Another volunteer laughed and walked me back to pick mine up. She asked me how I felt and I said "Like I want to turn around and do it all over again!" I really did want to go back to those slick wooden stairs, which certainly would have dried out by now, and jump into the river to do it all again. I wanted to go back to last July when I signed up and started this whole thing - I had had a WONDERFUL TIME training for and racing here at IronMan 70.3 Oregon. 

But suddenly I was STARVING. I wanted food and I very likely wanted it AN HOUR AGO. Luckily the athlete tent was right there, and also luckily, they let Patrick come in so he could hold all my stuff - finisher hat, water bottle, visor, I shlepped everything off of me and onto him so I could top myself off. God bless the event coordinators for having Fritos on hand for athlete food - I wanted ALL OF THE SALT. I had two bags, and some chicken in the sesame salad they gave us, and the best Coca Cola I've ever had in my life. My legs were sore, and I was tired, but the race was DONE, I had a GREAT TIME and best of all... I DID IT!

After sarfing down the food, I changed into shorts and a t-shirt before heading into transition to pick up my stuff. Having a change of clothes was really fantastic, especially because we'd also have a half hour drive back to the hotel. Several athletes were in transition, and everyone was congratulating each other and sharing race experiences as we cleaned up our stuff and walked our bikes and our IronMan70.3 Finisher selves out. I found my morning clothes bag really easily just before transition exit. And that was that! 

Of *course* I bought the shirt!!

We drove back to the hotel, showered up and went out for pizza dinner and some Willamette Valley pinot noir. We had dinner at a place called Gamberetti's in Albany, it was excellent. I wore my new mint green IronMan 70.3 Oregon shirt I'd bought myself. Overall, I felt great. Tired, but good, and super grateful for pizza and wine! I really appreciated the wine lesson we got from the restaurant manager - I don't generally like pinot noir, I'm a cabernet girl and pinot noirs generally seem light and thin to me. Well, not Willamette Valley pinots. First, they're all different, but typically they are pretty full-bodied and more of a "bigger" wine - interesting, and just my style! The Willamette Valley pinot noir we had at dinner was spectacular, and it was extra fun to drink knowing that earlier that day, I SWAM DOWN THAT RIVER. 

We penciled in some Oregon Fun for the days after the race. The next day we visited the Evergreen Air and Space Museum to see the Spruce Goose. Mr. Scandinavian Mullet was in heaven, I enjoyed it too, but after a couple hours walking, I really needed to sit down! Then we drove out to the Oregon coast for a couple days. Thank you, Fiestas for that suggestion, we had a great time, and it was a wonderful way to unwind. After our coastal adventure, another beautiful, forested drive to get Patrick to PDX so he could fly home. From there, I continued driving east solo, down the Columbia River Gorge toward home. The sun was setting, highlighting Multnomah Falls as I drove past and drenching the river and the gorge in glittering gold. That part of my drive was spectacular. 

IMMEDIATE AILMENTS

From the race, I had one small blister from a sock that slipped, a tiny bit of chafing on my shoulder from my RMTC jersey (turns out it's fine for 8 miles, but not for 13, for me) and a pretty solid bruise from that swim kick. But other than that... nada. I didn't even know about the sock blister until the hot water from my shower hit it at the hotel.  

I did pick up a sinus infection that hit me HARD on Wednesday, my longest day of solo driving homeward. I suspected it came from something in the river - locals were appalled that we'd swim down the Willamette - but I have no idea. My coach said she'd always get sick with a cold or something right after a big event, it's like your body pushes hard and then has nothing left to fight off infections, plus you're around a lot of people, etc. That makes sense. Regardless, it's no fun to get a cold, but the whole experience was worth it. But Wednesday's drive was awful because I felt like I had a really, really bad cold, and I was driving through a lot of boring nothing, by myself. 

Also on Wednesday, I noticed I had to pee A LOT, like, way more than usual - not ideal for a car trip. I'm not sure if that was just my body ridding itself of the last of the caffeine and electrolytes from the race, or extra hydration from being sick, or what, but the frequency and amount of pee was excessive, and I was actually worried something was wrong. I consulted Dr. Google, and it seemed this is not uncommon after an endurance event, but if it didn't sort itself by the weekend I'd need to call my actual human doctor. [It sorted itself, thank goodness.] 

Oh, one other point, I took caffeine on the race, which is incredibly helpful, but I could NOT get to sleep that night after I raced, and I was having a hard time sleeping Monday night, too! Just something to be aware of, for next time. I'm sure that being super run-down also contributed to me getting walloped by that sinus infection. 

I spent Wednesday night with my niece and her family again. A great dinner and a rock solid twelve hours of sleep made for a MUCH better Thursday, as I drove across Wyoming. I was home with all my loves by dinnertime, and VERY ready to be out of the car. I'm not at all sorry I road tripped, though it probably would have been nicer had I not just driven out to Philly and back, in June. Basically, I drove across the entire continental US, round-trip, this summer! Patrick made only the westbound version of the cross-country tour. I will say road trips are generally a lot more fun when he's with me. 

RETURN TO NORMAL

And after unpacking, doing all the laundry and putting things away, suddenly I have a lot more free time on my hands! I now have time to do fun stuff, which of course, "fun stuff" for me includes bike rides, swims, and I even got back on my Rollerblades in Wash Park last week. It was a JOY to be in the pool that first Saturday and start my swim watching my red IronMan70.3 wristband arc over my head. Yep, I DID that! And of course, part of the fun in the near future will include obtaining income - something me and my new friend Betsy were laughing about together - but right now I'm still enjoying the experience! 

By the way, Betsy WON our age group in Oregon and is headed to 70.3 Worlds in New Zealand early next year - AWESOME! She really is an amazing athlete. I am so happy we met. 

I was still a bit sore the first week, and tired as I resumed workouts the second week, but other than that, absolutely NOTHING HURTS, PHYSICALLY! Hiring a coach is SO GREAT for smart training to avoid injury - highly, highly, HIGHLY recommend! I was shocked to discover that I PR'd my half marathon time by nearly twelve minutes, at the END of a Half IronMan - I mean, honestly I had nowhere to go but UP, as far as my run ability is concerned, but it feels great to PR no matter what! Not only that, but I enjoyed every minute of the run, THE RUN! Even when my hamstring was threatening to cramp up, even during that blazing hot last mile under the sun, which seemed to stretch on forever in the best and worst way - I loved every minute. So, a very big thank you to my coach, J'ne Day-Lucore, for charting the course that led me to such joy.

Post-Oregon club chair happy hour at home

I'm really just so grateful for all of it. The past year was hard, but it was also a beautiful gift. I've made new friends, reconnected with old friends, rediscovered my love for trail running and hiking, laughed more, pushed more, loved more and DONE more than I imagined! And a huge thank you to Mr. Scandinavian Mullet, for being the best friend, partner and IronMan sherpa a girl could ever dream of. I am sure I would have done this race just fine on my own (and with J'ne's guidance), but I'm also sure I had a much better experience training and racing my first IM70.3, having had his support. He is THE BEST.

And thanks most of all to God and the Universe for carrying me and supporting both of us through the whole thing. WHAT A GIFT. THANK YOU. 

And with that, I've now cut off the wristband, paid my bills and carried on with Training for Life. I know this post signifies the end, but I also know that IT'S ONLY JUST BEGUN. Onward. 

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Thank you to everyone who was part of this journey. J'ne, Charley, my RMTC friends, my new training friends, my friends who watched my dogs, friends and family who housed us, supported us, tracked me from afar, lent me things, kept me healthy, repaired my body, wished me well, covered for me at work, cooked us meals, we don't take ANY OF THAT for granted! You were PART OF THIS EXPERIENCE. I thank you and I LOVE YOU ALL!

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." - Proverbs 27:17, NIV

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PS - I'm not saying 'I'll never do a full IronMan,' because everyone who says that ends up doing one. But I am saying... I really never want to run a marathon. At all. ;)