THE MENTAL GAME

This morning, I faced a 16 mile run that I was unable to do for 4 days.  It had been 6 days since my previous run.  I spent a week at low altitude.  I spent 2 days driving.  I was dehydrated and had been eating lousy all holiday season.  And.  It snowed last night.  16 miles?  Really?  Where is the snooze button?

For some insight into my mentality please visit http://theoatmeal.com/comics/running (be ready for some grown-up language ;-)  Read all the way through this and you will get a very good look into my own brain, but drawn better.  This guy knows.  He is a kindred spirit.  It will make you laugh, yes, but you will also see why I swim, bike and run, as well as the obstacles I face on my journey.

As I've spent hours and hours out on the road or on the treadmill lately, I am faced with the many ways I use to distract myself.  When I am staring down a double-digit run, hill intervals, or a heavy duty core set, I can't be the first to blink.  But remember, I am a couch potato by nature.

Just Do It -- Half of life is just showing up.  So of course, when it's 5 degrees outside, or I'm nice and comfy in my pjs, how do I get the training done?  Whatever people say about Nike, they have one thing right.  "Just do it" is the most simple statement.  The idea really boils down to, "are you really going to make excuses to NOT do something good for yourself?"  Too tired, too busy, too lazy…  Nope.  Don't give me that.  Doesn't fly if you live with a "just do it" attitude.  More often than not, when my head isn't in the game, this phrase comes to mind and I go get my shoes.  Many times I have to will myself to get my gear -- whether I'm running out my door, or headed to the gym -- but once I'm dressed, motivation hits.  There is something about tying my shoes, or putting on a swim cap that makes me want to "just do it."

Taking the Option -- But yes, there are times it's harder.  When those times come, I tell myself, "just go for 10 minutes, then see how you feel."  90% of the time I start with that option, I finish a full workout.  Because that 90% indicates a lack of mental motivation, rather than physical.  The other 10% will probably be the subject of another post.

"TV time" Treadmill -- We had a severe cold snap here in Denver that lasted more than a week.  I think it's just dangerous to run outside when it's below 10 degrees.  And you REALLY have to talk me into running outside when it's below 20.  Options turn indoors.  I go to the treadmill at the gym.  When you look up the word "boring" in the dictionary, I'm pretty sure there is a picture of a treadmill.  Remember when you used to schedule your college classes around Days of Our Lives?  Me either, but you get the idea…only for me schedule my treadmill runs around NCIS Los Angeles.  Otherwise, I have Netflix on my phone.  One episode and I can get 5 to 6 miles in, while completely checked out watching TV.  I walk out of the gym physically stronger. Mentally…well, not so much.  The nice thing about watching TV, is that I like doing something different during the commercial breaks -- up the incline and/or speed.  Basically, it gets done when I'm not even paying attention.  I wish the laundry got done that way.

Playlists -- Most of the time, I'm happy with my SBRun list or my Worship music, but anything that is upbeat and fun is usually suitable for any run lasting less than 7 or 8 miles.  Anything longer and I throw in a Beth Moore lecture or an audio book.  I have occasionally run without music, which is a nice way to mix things up.  Unplugging is nice for shorter runs.

Long runs -- These are the hard ones.  Just do it isn't always enough.  All the great music on iTunes doesn't cut it.  Treadmill is out, so no TV.  Taking the option?  Not if if I want to cross a finish line.  So how do I get it done?  I plan.  I pick a day in the week where that is the only thing on my To Do list.  14, 16, 18, 20 miles…however long, I have one specific day.  Yes, the weather doesn't always cooperate, so I have a backup day.  I also have a plan for WHERE.  Lots of distance, few distractions, and I have to select a route carefully.  Then what will I do during the run?  Well, write this post, for one…but this is where the playlists come in.  The most challenging part is when the pain starts to set in: my feet, my hips, my calves…it all starts to distract me.  I stop thinking about my music, and start wondering, "when am I done!?"  That wonder then turns into verbalizing aloud my displeasure.  Yes, people on the Cherry Creek path have looked at me funny.  I start looking at my GPS every 15 seconds or so, and get angry that it has only moved 0.02 miles.  Somewhere after the half-marathon mark, I learn the meaning of Mental Toughness.  Some folks use visualization as a tool.  I do too, but early in a workout when I'm feeling good.  All I can visualize when I'm starting to hurt and get cold (or frankly just don't want to be there) is a nice warm shower.  This is when I start playing mind games with myself.  These include variations on the following:

• Run faster for 30 seconds every 5 minutes
• It's not a 20 mile run, it's 10.  Then you turn around.
• Run to the next mile, then walk one minute.
• Switch my water bottle from one hand to the other every mile
• Take a GU every 45 minutes
• See that tree.  Just run that far…Okay now to that bench…then that bridge...
• The alphabet animal game -- think of an animal for each letter in the alphabet in order...

Get the idea? Seems trivial or mundane, right?  When I have something I can look forward to, even occasionally, the time passes, the miles get done.  I have come to call it "tactical misdirection."  It's not always pretty, but it gets done.  

Let's go back to this morning.  I had to run.  Had to.  If for no other reason than to shake off some of the holidays and do a huge run before I start my taper.  Nice and warm on the couch, I finally jumped up and got my running gear.  Woohoo!  Let's go running!  Okay, snow?  Let's just see how conditions are.  Run for 5 miles, then turn around if it's not working. Conditions weren't great, but I was flying!  I hit 5 miles, and just kept going.  I ran in an area I never had before, which brought me to the Rocky Mountain Arsenal Wildlife refuge: So many deer and coyotes that just looked at this strange purple be-decked two-legged creature stumbling along.  Completely unconcerned with me.  It was beautiful.  I turned around at 8 miles, right around the time my run playlist ended.  Switching over to my kid's Imagination Movers playlist, I amped up even more.  Conditions, altitude, lack of rest and other factors all caught up with me…at mile 15.  I declared victory, and walked (limped) the last mile home.

My goals will not be reached if I do not act.  The physical body can do many things, but a willing spirit is, in my mind, far more powerful.  The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak…I don't think I believe that, really.  A willing and motivated spirit is formidable. My body is ready, my spirit is willing…but sometimes my brain steps out in front and says, "how about a Venti Mocha and a donut?"  I have to shut that guy up.  That guy is the blerch.  The blerch is me.  Must outrun the blerch.

http://theoatmeal.com/blog/justdoitlater

YET ANOTHER NUMBER

I've heard it said that having another birthday is better than the alternative.

I've heard it said that another birthday is like finding a warm spot in the swimming pool…It feels good as long as you don't think about it.

I've heard it said that age is like fine wine.  When we get older, we start to sour,  everything settles to the bottom and no one wants us around anymore.

Lately, I've looked at my pursuits, and have wondered what took me so long to tackle some big things. Luckily, the people around me have responded, "who cares?  You are doing it!"  I've also wondered if I have hit my mid-life crisis, signing up for big races like a marathon and an Ironman in 2014 -- neither of which I have previously attempted.  Looking ahead, I have my sights set on the Dopey Challenge, 4 days and almost 50 miles of running through Disney Theme parks.  My bucket list includes at least one more Ironman, and maybe a few more marathons.  If my body can hang on.

I realized while running the other day that I will be 50 when my son gets his driver's license.  I also realized that training for a marathon is hard.  Go figure.

When my brothers and I were kids, we threw my dad an "Over the Hill" birthday party.  Black and silver decorations, including an "Old Fart" t-shirt.  I look back on that day with horror now, and feel like I need to apologize to my father for making fun of his age.  So…So Sorry, Dad.

As I lay down over 30 miles of running per week, it's harder to get out of bed the next day…the list of things that hurt when I get up in the morning seems to get longer.  I'm losing toenails and rolling out muscles.

So if 40 is the new 30, let's look back at my athletic achievements or lack thereof:
Prior to age 10, I swam so much that I had a shoebox full of ribbons for my races with FAST.  At age 15 I returned to swimming an threw down my first sub-1-minute 100 meter swim, and my first 500 meter event.  I began springboard diving, and stunk at it.

In my 20s, I was not an athlete.  I just worked out so I wouldn't get too fat.  Unfortunately, I also like to eat.

Age 30.  My first Triathlon race was the Danskin Women's and I have averaged at least 1 triathlon every year since.

Age 37.  My first run over 6.4 miles…an 8-miler that I thought would kill me…if i didn't kill my training partner.  The same year, I did a five mile run in under 50 minutes…again I thought if I survived it, I'd make my BRF pay.

A year later at 38, I blow the doors off of all my previous triathlon times at the Rattlesnake Olympic Tri, and two months later I'm crossing the finish line at my first half marathon.

Then…this crazy Boulder Tri Series in 2013.

In the last 10 years I have gone from "recreational" fitness to heavy duty mileage and volume.  Not just punching a clock on the treadmill, but looking seriously at each training session and planning out my weeks and months.

So why the change?  I really have no idea.  I could look back at a trip to Hawaii 18 months ago -- this trip changed so much as I walked the neighborhood where the Ironman World Championships took place. I could look at my inspiring friends -- you know who you are -- that said not only "you can do this," but "You Will Do This."  I could look at a series of life challenges that unleashed strength and fortitude I never knew I had.  Whatever the case, I'm working harder than I ever thought I could.  40…better late than never, right?

What I find interesting is not only the age at which I'm doing these things, but that I'm getting faster as I get older.  As I look in the mirror, I'm find myself considering an eye or neck lift, but nothing in my closet fits…in a good way.  I see a story in every line on my face, and strength in every muscle.

Most importanly, though...when I look in the mirror now, I don't see a fat girl.  She was always there for most of my life, no matter what size was written in my jeans…but she's gone now. No where to be found.  When I look in the mirror, I see an athlete who feels good about herself not because of how she looks or the number on the calendar, but because of how she feels.

Because you are only as old as you feel.  Here's to another 40.

26.2...OH, HOW CUTE.

An hour after I published my last post, I bought a plane ticket to Phoenix and a race number for the Rock and Roll Arizona Marathon in January.  I committed to 26.2 miles with 18 weeks of training.  As my first full marathon, I figured I was already behind, so I hit the pavement hard.  Basically, I didn't want to have to come back a third time in a row and tell you that I'm still sitting on the couch with the Nutella.

Logging a whopping 26 miles in the first week (including a soggy and cold 12 miler), the point was driven home that I am so ridiculously goal oriented.  It's almost sad.  However, I'm flying through my workouts, and I'm enjoying the fact that I have a goal again!  I almost forgot the fact that 10 minutes after my registration, I sat back and asked myself, "What have I done?!"

In most detail-oriented race plans, elite racers (let me be clear, that does not include me) will have an "A" race, meaning their lives will revolve around this one race in their season.  For me, that's Ironman Boulder next August.  In the meantime, "B" races would be well-supported training days...finish lines that set benchmarks to measure progress toward the A race.  Then there are "C" races.  Certainly not throw-away races, but one does not push oneself through these events.

I haven't decided yet if Rock and Roll Arizona is A or B.  At this point, I don't know that it matters.  However, since I lie awake nights wondering if I can even finish a marathon distance on its own --never mind after swimming 2+ miles and biking over a century -- I think Rock and Roll Arizona lies closer to B than A.  This makes me chuckle, because most people look at a marathon as a huge goal.  Many people I know make their first marathon ever their "A" race.  For me, it's a stepping stone to a bigger goal.

After that first week of training, I got slammed with a lousy chest cold.  I lost my voice, and I was coughing all the time.  Every mile was a fight.  My legs said go, my lungs said, "are you nuts?  Knock it off!"  I went from 26 miles in week one to 7 miles in week two.  I'm still coming off of it, but I'm not going to let the cough beat me.  Week 3 goal is 30 miles, and as of this writing I have logged 17.

So, why Phoenix?  Several reasons.  I knew I would not be ready for a full-marathon 9 weeks after Boulder 70.3, but I wanted a marathon finish before IMBO next year that wouldn't destroy me before the next phase of training.  I was thinking about Rock and Roll New Orleans in February, but nixed that idea when I saw the price of airfare.  Sorry, but if I'm spending that much money on a plane ticket, my dive gear is coming with me.  Then some friends of mine invited me to join them for the Phoenix race.  So at least I'll be running with my friends -- translation, they will smoke me like a trout, but at least we will be in the same town -- post race happy hour!

Recently, I sat down with a hometown friend, and uttered the words, "I'll be running my first marathon at age 40."  I'm not sure why this phrase stuns me.  Either I can't believe it's taken this long to become a runner, the fact that I'm turning 40 in a matter of a few weeks, or perhaps I'm hitting a mid-life crisis and if I wait too much longer, a marathon would be completely out of the question.

Let me say it again.  I'm running my first marathon at age 40.

As I polish this post off (so I can go for a run), I think about my journey to this point.  How does a natural born swimmer, whose worst memories of gym class included the track, become a marathoner? Well, triathlon, for one.  It is humiliating getting passed by speed walkers at the Danskin.  Another reason: my running friends.  For so long, I was slow. I felt self-conscious about holding up my running partners, so I didn't have any.  In the process of training for my first half-marathon, I somehow dropped time from my miles.  I started running with friends who would push me to go faster and farther than I ever had.  My first 8-miler was torture, but the high I felt after was incredible!  Then came the day I ran with a friend of mine around Wash Park.  In the first lap, he led me to sub-10 minute miles (as a reference point, my race times averaged 11:30 minute miles).  I think If I could have caught him, I would have beaten him senseless.  I had no shortage of ill words, but I kept up with him.  Later, I was grateful for the push.  I got my butt kicked doing something I thought would never happen.  Somehow, I learned to love running, and there are days where I crave it.

What is running to me?  Running is freedom...joy...peace...prayer.  Running is where I work out my issues and schedules and plan my days.  Running is where I write my blogs and create award winning motivational music videos.  I get to be in my head and dream.  If I can't run, I don't have a place to put my stress.  When I do run, I'm happier.  There is a great t-shirt I need to get that says, "It's all good...I ran today."

And by the way, I am not a treadmill runner.  I'll hit the 'mill as a last resort, but I can't stand it.  It feels like I'm in a hamster wheel.  I want to see the scenery change, feel the crunch of the gravel, smell the fall air.  Outside, I fly.  I'm closer to God.  

The road to IM Boulder includes another first.  By the way, I'm still slow...compared to many.  But compared to the Heather of 6 years ago, I'm a speed freak.

Did I mention that I'm running my first marathon at age 40?

OFF SEASON...WHAT OFF SEASON?

Given the recent lull, I'm happy to report....
I'm still in it.  Actually, it's no longer a lull.  It's a rut.  I can make a bunch of excuses as to why I'm only putting in one or two workouts per week as opposed to my season high average of 8 (and I intend to do so...be patient).  But the bottom line is this.  I've overcommitted to things that...and I'm just going to be honest here...I would much rather be doing than training.

In the last few weeks, several things have happened that have drained time and energy (I told you I'd make excuses).  Kindergarten started.  I've had family visit me, and I have visited my family.  We switched Kindergartens two weeks into school.  I've participated in setting up and selling at a huge consignment sale, I've taught three scuba classes simultaneously.  My dog has been injured twice.  We have school, church, swim, soccer, bible study and friends.

Oh yeah, and it rained.  And rained.  And rained.  When one is not mentally prepared to suddenly be forced inside for a workout, one would much rather sit on the couch and watch the Emmy's...or Star Trek...or even paint drying.  The thought of sitting on the bike trainer makes me want to cry.

The other issue I've had with all of the above stuff is the oppressive amount of stress I was feeling over all of it.  I wasn't sleeping well, and my response to stress is to stop eating.  Not good if I want to get in a decent weight workout.  Feeling woozy 10 minutes in is a bad thing.  For the first time in...well, ever...I've been upset about losing 5 pounds over the last 4 weeks.  This was mostly finely tuned muscle (hey, why are you laughing?).  For those of you who have seen me and have known me most of my life, you know this is the most trim I have ever been.  That extra 5 pounds gone is a problem.

So I signed up for Training Peaks.  This is an online training tool for athletes of various disciplines to keep track of their training.  I also purchased an "off-season" training plan, and the author of the plan has entered tips that are specific to just me.  Basically, she doesn't expect slowpoke over here to run 9 minute miles or swim faster than 1:45 per 100.  This training plan currently has me doing around 7 hours a week.

Pffft. Yeah right.  Last week I did 2.

Ironman Boulder is just over 10 months away.  I have an intermediate goal of finishing a marathon this winter, so I should really get started on training for that.  I've heard it said that there is no real off season for the endurance athlete.  I can see why.  My first few runs after The Lull hurt.  They hurt bad.  Advil is a constant companion, and in a "you know you are getting old when" moment, I realized I need to carry it with me at all times.

I know I will find my motivation.  It won't be on the treadmill or on the trainer or in some bolt of lightning "a-ha" moment.  It will be in the results. Results come when I finally light a fire under my butt and hit the pavement. I will eventually see the miles go by faster, I'll be able to go farther, and I will get stronger once again.  It's time to find my rhythm; set my alarm for 5:00 am and just get it done.  Plan my day around the training plan.  10 months is a long time...and yet it isn't.

On the plus side: today is the first day of Fall, which begins my favorite two seasons of running.  I love running in cooler weather (btw, the marathon is in Phoenix.  You may shake your head in wonder).

Until next time.  Happy Autumn!

CHOOSE CAREFULLY

"Choose your Ironman carefully."  I heard these words from an accomplished triathlete somewhere along the line.  Made sense when I started to think about it.  Although the next year will be tough going, I had a difficult time just deciding which Ironman to enter.  On the surface, this makes no sense.  140.6 miles would be difficult no matter where you do this, right? Well, yes, but you can choose your difficulty...sort of.  With 31 events in the IM series -- 11 in the USA alone, it is not a decision to be taken lightly.

For example, based on the race, when is the training period?  How often can you get out for a bike ride or an open water swim in the middle of winter when you live in Colorado? (The answer, btw, is never)

What does the bike course look like?  Do you like flat courses, or do you like climbing?  For me, the flatter the better.  Everything on a slight downhill would be nice.

What about professional or family life?  Some people have to choose their race based on school or work schedules.  With my son in Kindergarten, I will have to consider that summers will make training a challenge.

 Then traveling...Although the event is prolific, not everyone has an Ironman event in their backyard.  How difficult is it to get to the event?  There's a term I've heard...race-cation.  This occurs when a die-hard athlete will get on an airplane or road trip to a location NOT in their backyard.

When I started thinking about which event to enter, I had 3 races in the mix: Canada (BC), Wisconsin, and Coeur d'Alene.  Where's the Boulder race?  I'll come back to that.

The first was Ironman Canada, held in Whistler, BC in late August.  This actually sounded like fun...then I looked at the bike profile.  My friend and training partner is an excellent cyclist, and loves the challenge of climbing.  Please refer to my earlier statement about downhill.  IMBC has over 4,000 feet of elevation gain, and just thinking about it hurts.  The other issue is traveling to the event, and that my peak training hours would fall during the summer.

Another idea was Ironman Wisconsin, a September race in Madison.  This year's race is only a few days away.  Being close to my family would be great!  However, I have heard that this is a difficult event (this is all relative, right?  I mean we are talking about 140 miles.)  The bike course is not as hilly, but there are many turns on the bike course. As with the Canada event, travel is still an issue, as is the training schedule.

Then I ran into a woman who was training for Ironman Coeur d'Alene.  I thought, "Idaho in June.  Why?" However, after talking with her, it made sense to add that to the mix.  She's a mom, too, and has difficulty training during the summer while her kids are out of school.  Hmmm.  Might be worth a look!  I could do all of my heavy training through the school year.  The travel, however, still made this trip less than desirable.

I had pretty much made up my mind on the Idaho race, and was ready to take the leap.  Two days after the Boulder Sprint and 4 days before the 2014 Idaho race opened for registration, I was at Colorado Multisport for a bike fitting.  While they were working on my bike, I'm browsing around.  Two guys were talking about "Boulder Ironman" -- My ears perked up...did that mean...surely I misunderstood...they are talking about the HALF Ironman...My curiosity got the better of me, so I checked the IM website and sure enough, the event series would expand to Boulder in 2014!  That seemed to solve a lot of my problems!  Ironman Boulder became the best option.  I'm still traveling, but not as far.  I'm still training over the summer, but I have options.

This inaugural event created such a buzz in the area that even non-triathletes were talking about it!  I began to wonder if I would even get in!  However, back in March I made a very good decision (although I might have argued that point back then) that, at the time I did not know would benefit my Ironman registration.  I had registered for the 2013 Boulder Tri Series, and in so doing, I got priority access to 2014 Ironman Boulder.  The event sold out within 10 days (which is pretty fast...not like Justin Bieber sell-out fast, but still).  Other IM events have sold out in a day, or even in a matter of hours.

Frankly, I'm surprised it took so long for Boulder to get an Ironman event.  Boulder is home to many world class professional triathletes, and the elite circuit regularly trains here.  My college stomping ground teems with cyclists and triathletes crawling the hills and highways surrounding the town like ants on an anthill.  What is even better is how the residents respect those athletes.  In many communities around Colorado, particularly on the Front Range, cyclists are disdained by the area drivers.  There are road rage stories about drivers against cyclists, and while the concept of "share the road" goes both ways, in a fight between a bicycle and a car...the car wins.  However in Boulder, these incidents are extremely rare.  The athletic community supports itself very well in Boulder.  So, I guess it's about time that the PRB gets an international event.

The final challenge will be next summer.  I'll have 7 weeks of training with 12 to 18 hours per week.  Although it will still be a "race-cation" in that I'm staying in Boulder for a couple of days, I can still train on the course in the months leading up to the race.

And then there is the finish line.  Anyone who knows Boulder knows that Pearl Street is the place to be. So the race organizers have the finish line on Pearl Street mall.  After well over a dozen hours punishing myself, the elation of crossing that line only steps from my Alma Mater...At this point, I can't even begin to imagine what that will feel like, but right now there is a smile on my face just thinking about it.  Hopefully, I have chosen wisely.

THE LULL

I am a couch potato.  Unmotivated, uninspired...lazy.  There are far too many other things I need to get done, but right now, I'm happy with my sofa and TV...and a Family Size bag of Ruffles.

Seriously.

For any of you who read my last post, you may be laughing your head off and saying, "Yeah, right!  How does a couch potato finish a 3-race series, lasting over 100 miles?!?!  Lazy?  I don't think so."  Others of you who know me very well also would be laughing your head off and saying, "Yes.  Yes you are that thing...couch potato."  Either way, you are laughing your head off.

Until I discovered triathlon racing, tried my best to stay "fit."  I spent up to an hour almost every day doing a cardio/weight video combination.  After several weeks of this, I'd get bored and take a day off...which turned into 2 weeks.  So I'd start all over again.  Although one could say I was healthy, I would not have called myself trim.  I could perform the exercises in the videos extremely well.  But that's all my fitness was good for.  Rock climbing?  Lousy.  Hiking?  Slow.  Skiing...well, I actually got pretty good, but that's beside the point.  I was a terrible runner, and the bike was merely a method of transportation.

Frankly, I don't know when my "Eureka" moment came, but I found that I am highly motivated by goals.  If I have something for which to train, I will stay on task and not quit out of boredom.  I'm not talking about slimming down for swimsuit season or a wedding.  Rather a real, honest-to-goodness race.  Regardless of distance or discipline, if there is a finish line involved, hand me a training plan and I will follow it to the letter (at least 85% of the time).

"But Heather, didn't you just sign up for 140.6?  Don't you have a goal in place?"  Well yes, but if I start training now, I can guarantee burnout by Christmas...possibly even by Halloween.  No, I need an off season.  Which is right now.  This is a happy place, filled with basking in the glow of my recent finish, knowing I don't have to schedule in a workout, and discovering Nutella.  I could bring my goggles to the pool, but why?  Strap my shoes on for a quick jog, but I'd rather sleep in.

Right now, I'm at the tail end of a safe recovery period.  I've run 30 minutes and done 30 minutes of core training since Boulder 70.3.  I'm relatively pain-free, and I have regained a bit of energy.  I've devolved into a slug...a slug who knows if she doesn't get off the couch soon, she will start losing 20 weeks worth of hard work.  I am in a lull.  Ironman Boulder is 50 weeks away (yes, I've already started counting), but I'm also looking for an intermediate goal...perhaps a full marathon.

Something's gotta happen soon.  The lack of impending goal is messing with me.  I am itching for a new plan.  I have completely reorganized my entire house.  I need a race by Christmas, or I will lose my mind.

I miss the runner's high, the burning sensation in my quads after I climb a hill, and the inability to lift my arms after a 3000 meter swim.  Ab-busting core workouts leave me incapable of laughing without crying...hahaha ow haha ow.  I'd complain about how much some training session stunk only to notice my clothes are looser.

Without a finish line, I am directionless in my fitness...adrift in a sea of possibilities, overwhelmed by options...so I think I'll park my hinder in a lawn chair.  When I have a goal, I feel there is purpose in getting out of bed.  Or at least purpose in passing the ice cream aisle at the grocery store without stopping.

I will have an off season training plan in place in the next few days, but for now, I'll rest, recover and look forward to the next finish line.

FASTER AND FARTHER -- BOULDER TRI SERIES 2013

2013 by the numbers:
Weeks of race-specific training: 20
Race mileage: 119.24
Training mileage: 1105.22
Total swim miles: 59.49
Total Bike Miles: 885.61
Total Run Miles: 129.36
Total Training/Race hours: 142.68

On a cool, bright, January morning earlier this year, I was sitting at Starbucks, my laptop open, the atomic clock counting down.  Soon the Boulder Tri Series would open its virtual doors for registration in this 3 race collection.  My heart pounding with excitement, I was practically giddy like some pre-pubescent girl waiting to get One Direction tickets.

Then came my most intense race season yet, officially starting my training March 18th.  Over the course of 20 weeks, I experienced so many phases of emotions.  Excitement at the prospect of a new training regimen gave way to...boredom.  The first two months wasn't so much working out harder as much as working out more -- building endurance through more hours.  I spent so much time on the bike trainer catching up on shows like Alias, 24, Lost, and Heroes -- anything to distract myself from the sheer volume of hours.  I can think of fewer things more boring than 90 minutes on a stationary bike...Just about the time I started running out of shows and movies to watch, the weather cleared up to get out on the road!

When I missed a workout, I felt somehow I had to make it up somewhere...and sometimes I did.  Missing several days because of a cold or other health issues brought me to overwhelming guilt.  Then in May and June, I spent much of my time either tired or hungry...usually both!  My understanding angel of a son would allow me to power nap for 20 minutes after lunch.  I'd wake up by 5:30 every morning to get in a workout, and be in bed by 9:00 every night.

When my taper started in mid-July, I was ready for the 70.3.  I had become tired -- not tired of training, but tired of swim/bike/run swim/bike/run swim/bike/run swim/bike/run.  Even more so, I grew weary of the mental gymnastics it took to figure out when I would even get the training in.  Every week, I would sit down with my training plan and my calendar and begin the mental juggling act that rivals Cirque du Soleil.  "Okay, Soren is at school from 9 to 1, I have a dentist appointment at 9:30, so if I bring my running shoes, I could go 90 minutes and still make it to the store before I pick him up." This was a daily dialogue.  I would look at my weekly training schedule and try to fit it in when my son was either at preschool or with his dad, and on a couple of occasions I would hire a sitter.  Sometimes all this perfect planning to the minute would result in complete upheaval.  I believe it was Sun Tzu that said, "no battle plan survives contact with the enemy."  My battle plan was the training, the "enemy" was the rest of my life.  If plans had to change because of something completely out of my control, I would tailspin into a stress bucket, then have to let that workout go.  18 weeks into my training, I was mentally exhausted by my schedule.

June and July brought the races themselves.  The first, Boulder Sprint, was a well-supported training day.  I nailed this course with my fastest sprint time ever, beating my previous record by 12 minutes.  I realized that I enjoyed the Sprint distance because I can push my speed, I don't have to worry about eating during the race -- one GU packet and I'm good, and I have the rest of the day to...I don't know...mow my lawn, finish laundry, or work on a quilt.  Not that I ever did any of these things on race day, but it's the thought that counts.

The second race was the Boulder Peak.  Truth be told, I had more concerns about this race than the 70.3 that would finish out my training season.  The 2006 Peak was my worst race day ever.  Old Stage Road on the Bike course gains 600 feet in elevation over 2/3 of a mile.  I have nothing nice to say about this, and if I can't say anything nice, then I won't say anything at all.  This year's Peak was as much a hard training day as it was exorcising my 2006 demons.  I trained harder, I am mentally tougher, and I was not going to let the Peak beat me this time.  I came off that race 7 minutes faster than my previous Olympic distance record, and an hour and 6 minutes faster than the 2006 Peak.  Every single mile of that race was a personal victory.  Afterward, I can prove that there is such a thing as a runners high, because I signed up for Ironman Boulder.



While waiting three more weeks for the final race, I felt a bit of an anti-climax.  I just finished my best race ever and registered for a huge race in 2014, and I still had another first-time event ahead of me.

Last but not least, the Ironman Boulder 70.3 -- a half-Ironman distance the first weekend in August.

So let's start with the Expo -- the pre-race event where all of the sponsors promote their products and stores in pop-up tents, and where the athletes go to pick up their race numbers/swag bag and get the race briefing.  At the Sprint and the Peak, there were maybe a dozen tents at which I got some good stuff: huge deal on a new tri suit and a box of Stinger Waffles.  A fun atmosphere, and nothing I hadn't seen at other races.  At 70.3, I was greeted first by the Ironman Village inflatable arch.  I hadn't even walked into the Expo yet, and my heart is beating faster!  All around me there were people wearing finisher's gear from one IM event or another, and I started to feel like I did at my first triathlon in 2004 -- I was way out of my league...what on earth am I doing here?!  I am surrounded by professional triathletes and seasoned veterans half my age...or older than me, and I knew they would smoke me on the course.  It was at that point that my tummy began to revolt...to spare you details, that didn't stop until Tuesday after the race.

I picked up my race packet: race numbers, swim cap, timing chip, t-shirt, AWESOME swag bag, then unlike the other two races, walked directly into the "Ironman Official Merchandise Store." Heeheeheeheehee.  Let's just say I got a lot of Christmas shopping done.  I also bought a gray race t-shirt for myself, failing to see that it said "finisher" on the back.  I didn't notice this until I got home, and hoped I didn't jinx myself.

After putting my gear together and making sure the laundry was done (I knew I wouldn't want to deal with it for days after the race), I tried to get to sleep.  It wasn't happening.

3:00 am Wake up, packed up my gear and off to the race.  I arrived at Boulder Reservoir so early that I got to park right next to the expo.  Since I still had time before they even opened the transition zone, I stared up into a crystal clear starry pre-dawn sky.  A dozen shooting stars flew overhead.  It was going to be a good day.

The nerves never settled until I was standing a the water's edge awaiting my wave start.  In the cool morning, my feet raced down the beach, I bounded several strides into the water, then plunged into the water to do what I do best.  The swim is mine.  It always has been.  No matter how I feel about my life, I know I am a great swimmer, and that anything that is troubling me will melt away with every bubble I blow.  I kept to the outside and swam my race.  I was happy being in the water having started the race I had been training for the last 5 months.  I swam until the water was shallow enough for my outstretched fingers to scrape the sandy bottom, then dashed up the hill to my bike.


In transition, I took my time before heading out for my 3+ hour ride.  I was very confident with the course.  I had ridden all of it at least twice, thanks to some very special friends.  On those training rides, I thought a 17.5 mph average would get me through the 56 mile ride in under 3:15. I am feeling fantastic, however.  I blew by an aid station with every intention of grabbing some GU, but instead, I almost took the poor volunteer's arm off.  Sorry...Whoever you are!  When I hit the halfway point, I looked down at my time.  I had laid down 28 miles in 1 hour and 25 minutes.  This.  This was amazing, and it caused problems later.  At that point, I started talking myself into a sub-3 hour ride -- I committed a cardinal sin in racing...I changed my race plan. I rode harder than I should have, with most of the remainder of the course ever so slightly uphill.  By mile 40, everything started to hurt.  Back.  Hips.  Feet.  Neck.  Ahem...bicycle seat area.  All of it hurt,  I still pushed for that 3 hour ride, and I almost made it, coming in at 3:01.

I took my time again in transition to finish a sandwich and do a once-over with spray sunscreen.  But here is the most awesome thing I saw all day.  The volunteers in transition, wearing latex gloves with handfuls of sunscreen ready to slather up the racers!  I mean, how cool is this!!

Somewhere along the line, I forgot I had a half marathon to run.  That push for sub-3 on the bike made for a lousy first 5k.  My tummy had come back into open revolt.  There was no consuming anything but water, ice, and GU.  No Gatorade, no fruit or cookies...my gut just wouldn't have it.  I walked up every hill and through every aid station, rejecting everything I had ever trained myself about running (don't stop to walk).  The thing I found most odd was the seasoned veterans doing the same thing.  That helped my mindset, because I felt like I wasn't the only one in pain.  Lap 1, the first 6.5 miles was painful.  I did not get my run legs until halfway through the first lap.  With as crappy as I started feeling, I was moved by the volunteers and the other fans cheering.  With my first name on my bib number, a cheering supporter would call me by name, "You look great, Heather!  Keep it up!"  A volunteer was walking the last mile and a half of the course, it was a quiet area right before the course descended into the finish line crowd.  On the first lap, he said, "You've got this, Heather.  This is your race.  Your day."  When I think about that moment, I am moved to tears.  I couldn't afford to get emotional, because I had to run past the finish line to go out for my second lap.  The hardest part of the day was running past the finish line, hearing the announcer call out names of the finishers while I just kept running right past it.  I did nothing differently on the second lap.  As I came up into the last 5k, I started thinking.  This is it.  I'm doing it.  I looked down at my watch, the mileage read 68.9...I'm so close...don't cry yet...don't cry yet.  Then my volunteer friend was still positioned in that unpopulated spot on the course.  He held his hand up for a high five and said, "You're killing it, Heather."  That's when I started crying...well, no tears because I was so dehydrated, but the pictures betray my grimace of pain and elation.  Victory was mine.  I crossed the finish line, barely believing I had done it.  My brother, Chris, who was there at all three races, hugged me, and I think I pretty much collapsed.  But I finished a half Ironman distance.  My longest race ever. Now I can wear the t-shirt I bought myself.

The training, the juggling, the suffering, the exhaustion...all of it over the last 20 weeks was worth it.  Not because I had any finish time of note.  No, rather I achieved something I never had before.


So next year, same time, same place...double the distance.

TRIATHLON JARGON PART I

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1KTEgLKhjIw

Triathletes can be geeks.  I was a geek before I became a triathlete, but now it's chronic.  We spend as much time in training as we do pouring over the data gathered from it.  Miles per hour, pace, heart rate, calories burned, calories consumed, speed, tempo, cadence, gear, weather patterns, planetary alignment...then we mash it all into this weird equation that makes sense only to other athletes.  Triathlon, like many sports, comes with its own vocabulary.  I thought I would cover some of the basics to avoid any eyes glazing over.  This is not a comprehensive list, thus "part 1."

The distances:

Sprint triathlon: 750-800 meter swim, 13-17 mile bike, 5k run.  The distances depend on the event organizer and location.  The Sprint tri is where most people start in this sport.

Olympic triathlon: 1500-1650 meter swim, 23-26 mile bike, 10k run.  As with the Sprint, the distances depend on the organizer and location.  The official Olympic distance is 1500 meter swim, 40k (25 mile) bike, and 10k run.  Elite athletes, such as the Olympic competitors finish this event in under 2 hours.  Sick.

Half-Ironman or 70.3 triathlon: 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run (half-marathon).  Sometimes referred to as "long-course," there are many of these events across the country.  70.3 refers to the total distance traveled in the race.

Ironman: 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, 26.2 mile run (marathon).  Also known as "Ultra-distance," or 140.6 (total distance travelled during the race).  The term "Ironman" is specific to an international series branded as such.  Therefore, you can have a 140.6 event that is not an Ironman event.  The race time cut-off is 17 hours.  The pros finish this race in under 9 hours.  Discuss.

For more information about the various distances and background of triathlon (so if you really want to geek out like I do), check this out: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triathlon

The equipment:
Wetsuit: A warming layer designed specifically for a triathlon swim.  Races that are "wetsuit legal" take place in water that is below 78 degrees.  Styles range from sleeveless/shorts to full suits and in thickness from .5 to 5 millimeters.  Mine makes me look like a sea lion.

Aerobars: The bike portion of triathlon is a bit different than a cycling specific race like the Tour de France.  In a triathlon, the cyclist is not riding in a group to draft off of other riders.  In fact, drafting is illegal in most tris.  So the cyclist tries to make himself at "thin to the wind" as possible.  The aerobars allow the rider to hunch over their handlebars and create less wind resistance.  It makes the rider look like they are relaxing over their bike -- which is kinda why I like them.  My son was watching me ride on the trainer, and he said it looks like I'm "sleep riding."

Time Trial bike: These bikes (like mine) are designed to do one thing very well...go fast in a straight line.  For some reason I have trouble with both, but I don't think that's because of the bike.  Experienced triathletes can use TT bikes for climbing, although some use traditional road bikes for big climbing races.

The food:
GU, ClifShots: A gel that comes in a small packet about the size of a pack of gum.  These are easily carried and contain a honey-like substance.  They come in a variety of flavors and are packed with carbs for endurance training.  It's quick fuel while on the move.  They are good, but I wouldn't butter my toast with them.

ShotBlocks, Energy Gels: These are a bit like Gummi Bears or Fruit snacks, that serve the same purpose as the gels.  There are some that are really good!

Waffles: A flat, cookie-like food that serves the same purpose as the above forms of fuel.  The only problem with these is that they are so good, I'd eat them just sitting on the couch.  My favorite flavor for riding is Vanilla, but I want to try the chocolate...warmed up...with ice cream...hot fudge...

Miscellaneous:
M-Dot: the Official Ironman logo is a red M with a red circle above it.  Many times seen in the form of a tattoo on an Ironman finisher.

Bike/Run Profile: A graph that represents the elevation changes on the bike or run course.  If it looks like a roller coaster and has 4 digits of elevation gain, the course is hard.  Well, for me at least.

I hope to come up with a few more as we roll through the next year.  Maybe this cleared some things up?

By the way, if any of you hear me use the word "fartlek" in a sentence, slap me.  Seriously.

I WILL DO THIS.

Stiff.  Sore.  Tired.  I wish I lived in a one-story house, because stairs hurt.  On the other hand, I am mentally walking through my day wondering when I'll get in a swim or a bike.

Yesterday, I finished the Boulder Peak Triathlon, one of the toughest races in the country.  I celebrated my Personal Record for an Olympic distance for maybe two hours before I logged on to my brother's computer.  I just did not want to wait until I got home to register for Ironman Boulder in 2014.

As I sat at the computer filling out the registration form, I simultaneously thought, "this will be so cool," while yelling out loud, "what on earth am I doing!?!?" I finally clicked the submit button, then sat back in wonder.  What will the next year look like?  How am I going to do this?

Of course the most obvious question from anyone who knows me is, "WHY?"  To be honest, I wish I had a good answer!  Is this mid-life crisis?  Do I need to prove myself to someone, anyone, or everyone?  Do I just need a hobby?  Is it because I can?  Do I want to "brag for the rest of my life?" Truly, I do not know.  As I start on this journey, I hope to come up with the answer.  Right now, I just want to.

The 2013 training season is not yet complete.  I still have to finish a half-Ironman.

I hope you come with me on this journey.  Triathlon, like any endurance event can get very lonely, and although you won't be out there with me in body, knowing you are out there in spirit makes it special.  Through all of it: the training sessions, miles, roads, soreness, bottles of Advil and Gatorade, endless amounts of GU, ClifShots and Stinger Waffles, all the way to the finish line when Mike Rielly will say...