SOREN'S FIRST TRIATHLON!!

There is nothing like looking at the world through a child's eyes.  It's inspiring to see my kid follow in my footsteps and get excited about something like Triathlon.  That being said, I want to come right out and say that I'm not one of "those Moms" who push their kids into an activity in order to fulfill a lost dream of her own through the lives of her offspring.  Quite the contrary.  I'm introducing my son to things I enjoy, but it's up to him to decide whether or not he likes it.

We're going into the way back machine, here.  Last year during my Boulder Tri Series training, Soren pipes up and said he wanted to do a race someday.  I knew at 5 years old and not riding a bike independently, he wouldn't be ready for another year or so.  I also wanted to be sure he kept that idea in his own head, without much prompting from me.  Through the year and coming into this summer, he still expressed interest in a race event.  So I felt he was ready for the Stapleton Kids Triathlon.  This small, fun kids event is a 25 meter swim, a 1 mile bike, and a 1/2 mile run through the neighborhood.

The best part about this from a parenting and triathlete's perspective, is that for Soren there was no training plan necessary.  I didn't have to get all OCD on drawing up a training plan (although I tried).  Because he is so active, it wasn't that hard to direct that energy into swimming, biking and running.  All I did for a few weeks was ask him every day if he wanted to swim, bike or run.  Pretty easy, actually, once I let go of the "work" in workout.

Given the fact that I knew he wanted to do a race, I still understood he wouldn't be able to just show up and feel good about it.  I signed him up for Swim Team and had him in lessons all summer.    He was easily handling one length.  Like me, I think he felt that was the easy part.

The bike was a bit harder.  We didn't take the training wheels off the bike until the last day of the school year.  He is apprehensive and nervous on the bike.  Again, like me, he's not so much a fan.  We worked for weeks on his independent riding, and finally got to a point where he could start himself and ride a couple of miles independently.  At first, I would run behind him.  Then he got so fast (or I got slower...always a possibility) I had to get on my cruiser bike to keep up with him.  Of the three sports, he's made the most progress on the bike, and I couldn't be more proud that he overcame his fear of riding.  We even rode the bike course a couple of days before the race.  Hard to suppress the OCD part.

Running for a 6 year old boy.  Um, do we really need to discuss how easy that is?  He runs everywhere!  The only thing we really did to help him with his running is that since he runs like a 6 year old (limbs flopping everywhere, landing flat-footed), I showed him some tips on how to run easy and strong.  Every time we would run somewhere (the park, the pool, etc), I would show him how to keep his arms in, run up on his toes and run easy instead of sprint.  He got the hang of it, and loved to go out running.

Stapleton Kids Tri!

Packet Pick-up: This was just plain funny.  It was all just as official as any race in which I have participated!  Bib numbers sponsored by Road ID, official race t-shirts, and even timing chips!  I even had swag bag envy!  Most of the time, my race swag bag is filled with useless deals, like 20% off for dinner at a major chain restaurant, and the coupon expires by noon that day.  Or a free podiatry appointment.  Soren's bag had a coupon for free ice cream at Cold Stone, two bike lights, a Free Kids Pizza at Mici's and two bottles of sunscreen...among many other things! I was really jealous.

Transition...before the race

Okay, say this with me: "This is Not an Ironman."  He doesn't need to be concerned about nutrition, how he will manage T1 efficiency, or how to carry a water bottle on the run.  Funny part is that he was so excited about my new Ultimate Direction water bottle, he wanted to use it during the race even though I explained to him he didn't need it.  Every time I started problem solving for a big race I had to remind myself, "okay, he's only going to be out there for 20 minutes. This is not a big deal."

So when race day came, all I cared about was that he didn't give up.  If he doggy-paddled across the pool, stopped on the bike every 30 seconds and walked the rest of the course, I didn't care as long as he tried his best and had a good time.  In the days leading up to the race, he started getting really excited.  He would say things like, "I can't wait for my race!"  He'd ask me, "Will I get a medal?"  So cute!  I made sure he knew that no matter what happened on race day, I am already proud of him.

Body Marking

When we got to the morning of the race, there were already kids competing.  The 9-13 age group went first, so we got to see part of how the race worked.  We were let into transition complete with body marking (what I consider a futile attempt at placing identification on the skin of the athlete that rubs off with sunscreen).  We (Nils, Stephanie, myself and Soren) got all set up in transition.  Soren had oodles of nervous energy, bouncing around like a kangaroo.  However, when it came time to do the athlete's briefing, he sat very quiet, very focused.  I could tell he was getting nervous.

Focused on the briefing

Last minute pointers from mom

Soren at right

Determined

The 6-8 year olds moved into the pool area, while I remained in transition to help Soren with his move from the swim to the bike.  It was my own personal nightmare coming true.  I was trapped in the transition area, and I wasn't allowed to leave!  I've had this dream before, and I didn't like it!  Whew, okay.  Actually, I sat in wait for Soren to wander out of the pool and make his way toward me and his bike.  What surprised me was how fast he came shooting into T1!  I thought for sure the nerves would make him reluctant, but his adrenaline was definitely pumping!  I helped him get his shoes on and he grabbed his bike and took off like a rocket.

T1 support crew

We're gonna need a bigger bike.

We didn't see him much on the bike, because he was moving so fast!  Well, as fast as he could for a kid whose bike is two sizes too small for him.  We saw him come around the corner working so hard, telling him we'd see him at the finish.  I ran as fast as I could...actually almost missed him come out of T2...to see him flying like a bullet out of the run chute.

Dancing man

Running man

I watched him throughout the run, dancing, high-fiveing complete strangers and generally kicking serious butt.  They even had a water station, where he stopped to grab a drink while walking.  A couple of times, he would dramatically put his hands on his knees and pant a couple of times before standing back up and running again.

Finally a Water break!

See?  He's floating.

Looking like a runner!

FINISH LINE!!

Just as an aside: Here's what bugs me about his run pictures compared to mine.  In every picture ever taken of me during a race, it looks like I have both feet firmly planted on the ground and that I'm barely moving.  In Soren's pictures, he looks like he's levitating!


Now onto the finish: He flew up the hill and around the final corner to his first triathlon Finish.  We couldn't be more proud.  He worked so hard and had so much fun, and that's all I cared about.  He's already asked me to sign him up for next year.

His first medal!

 So here's the question.  How did he do?  He finished.  He did his best, and he never quit, and he had fun.  And isn't that what this is all about?   I'm not one of those parents that put undue pressure on my kid to be the best of all.  I just want him to do his best.  I wasn't standing at the finish line with a stop watch waiting to berate him for not being better (yes, there were those parents there).  This is a neighborhood kids event, not the World Championships in Kona.  I was screaming my head off.  I let the cowbell off it's leash!  I was jumping and running and cheering for my precious little boy who has now tasted this kind of accomplishment.  And you know what?  If he never does it again, that is okay.  He will find something he loves.  Maybe it's triathlon, or hockey, or sailing, or something that neither his Dad nor I know the first thing about.  But it will be his thing, because he wants it badly enough.

Because it's all about who's waiting at the finish.

Man it's hot today!

IRONMAN BOULDER: A SPECTATORS POINT OF VIEW

There is something to be said for sitting on the sidelines and watching others perform great feats of physical strength and endurance.  For example, I love attending Cirque du Soliel whenever I have a chance.  The acrobats, jugglers, and clowns are not only talented, but they have trained their bodies for years to be superhuman.  The Olympics, with all of its fanfare and spectacle, are another opportunity to see people from all walks of life around the globe stand on an international stage and prove to the world why they deserve to be there.  I hold the same view of an Ironman event.

Although this was not my race to run, I wanted to watch my friends reach for their goals under the grueling race conditions on August 3rd.  I was so proud of them!  They worked so hard and wanted it so badly, I just had to bask in the glow of their acheivements.  So Soren and I set to work on making signs for race day.  We got out the poster board, markers and glitter glue to make half a dozen signs that we rarely used in the grand scheme of race day, but the process was fun.  I got a lot of comments on the sign that read: "Ironman.  140.6 miles.  Because 140.7 miles would just be stupid!"  We bought a cowbell...you know, because we need one...and made a plan for race day.  

Soren is throwing out his support for the riders.

Although this may only be hearsay, my understanding was that the bike course for IMB crossed into 6 counties.  As a one-loop, 112 mile bike course, my question was, "Where in all of that space do we go to cheer on our friends?!"  With a little timing math, and some help from the race website, Soren and I found the perfect spot under the I-25 overpass.  This put us at the race course around mile 80.  When we actually found it.  I don't know how we got lost on I 25, but we did.  

We stood there under the overpass for about 45 minutes.  During that time, I saw every emotion on the faces of these riders.  One guy came by, sat up on his seat and waved his arms in the "Turn it up, I want to hear the crowd" attitude.  A few riders came by and thanked the spectators for being there.  there were many athletes that were so much in the zone, I'm not even sure they saw us, or cared we were there.  Lots of riders smiling (or it might have been a grimace, but I prefer to think they were smiling), and every once in a while, there was the, "Holy crap, I'm gonna die" look.  I mean, it was almost 90 degrees.  Not bad for an August day on the high plains, but still warmish.

We were specifically looking for 3 people: Jim and Julie Mayo and Mark Mulligan.  I followed these three very closely in the posted times.  And yes, there's a app for that, which I checked  every 30 seconds or so (OCD anyone?).  At Bike Mile 80, we completely missed Jim, but I knew Julie was on her way, with Mark not far behind her.  Julie came rocketing by us at what seemed like 90 miles per hour.  She was already 20 feet past me before I realized it was her, but I screamed at the top of my lungs anyway.  Not long after that, Mark whizzed by us...I saw him and yelled so loud for so long, I was hoping my volume would propel him for the last 30 miles into town.

Then we had to get into downtown Boulder in the middle of an International event.  mmmmK....We muscled through the traffic and lucked out on Pearl Street parking.  I have to say that hanging out on Pearl Street was odd for this CU alum.  It looks so different, yet not much has changed.  All of my favorite stomping bars are gone, but my favorite shops are still there.  I digress.  Ironman on Pearl Street was perfect.  It was picturesque and lively, with incredible buzz and energy.  So Soren and I had an adventure trying to figure out where to watch the runners.  Well, first we hit the Ironman store.  That's where we got the cowbell, and Soren got his shirt.  On the back of this great shirt is a list of the athletes participating.  So cool.

Future Ironman?

We tried to catch our friends at T2, but missed them.  However I did see one of my favorite Mother Runners, Dimity McDowell, co-author of "Run Like a Mother," and Ironmother.  She was a volunteer in the T2 tent.  Her 6' plus height and bubbly personality were a dead giveaway.  So awesome to see her!

Soren and I moved on to the Boulder Creek trail to watch the runners.  If you have ever seen an uphill stage during the Tour de France, you get the idea of the energy.  Narrow passage, lined to the gills with people yelling, ringing cowbells, and throwing out so much encouragement the spectators practically impede the athletes' progress.  Oh my gosh it was so fun!!!  While I stood course-side, Soren played in the creek.  Just picture perfect.  I saw Jim rocket by me at his 13 mile mark, as I screamed encouragement along the way.  Not far behind him was Julie, smiling from ear to ear!  I hollered out to her and she stopped to give me a happy, "It's great to be alive" kind of hug!  We waited a bit for Mark who, as I was interpreting his run pace on my IronTrac App, was not running but rather walking.  Can't say I blame him.  He came up the creek at his 10 mile checkpoint smiling, and stopped, saying "You do NOT want to give me a hug right now."  I responded, "the heck I don't!" and gave him a huge hug.

Meeting Mark at the finish line...the kid is tired, too.

While waiting for my friends, I saw the smilers...people who were thrilled to be there; the haters...those who were despising every mile, and visibly questioning why they thought signing up for an Ironman was a good idea; and the inspired.  There were the walking wounded and the triumphant rockstars.  I saw at least two people with prosthetic legs kicking serious butt, as well as a man pushing a Bob stroller with I can only assume was his physically/mentally challenged child.  I have seen this before: a parent who pulls their child on a raft during the swim, pulls a bike trailer for 112 miles, then pushes them in a stroller for the full marathon.  This is a big deal for me, and it brings tears to my eyes.

Playing on Boulder Creek.

Through all of this, Soren played, rang the cowbell, held up signs, and found every playground between Boulder High and Pearl Street.  My brother, Chris came into town wearing his "IM Support Crew" t-shirt (that I got for him when I thought I would be competing on this day), and hung out with us into the late hours of the evening.  I was so proud of Soren for his patience and fortitude during this long, hot day.  It was fun to see him get into the excitement of the event.

The finish line was absolutely crazy!  Loud and raucous with a cacophony of cowbells and screaming supporters, it was electrifying!  We ran into Jim and Julie after they had already finished looking triumphant with their incredible races behind them.  I was so proud of both of them!  Later, we waited for Mark who had picked up his pace and crossed the finish line just before 10 PM.  We found him getting his pictures taken, wished him congratulations, and headed to the car.

With a triumphant Jim and Julie

In the end, I had experienced a wide range of emotions.  in the days and weeks prior to the race, I watched my friends and Facebook training group get amped, nervous and excited.  They shared their pre-race nightmares, and ask their "no dumb" questions.  As they hit their taper weeks, the anticipation creeped in, and I started feeling like I was being left behind.  24 hours before the race started, I hit my lowest.  I actually regretted my decision to drop out of the race.  I wished I had kept going and would be racing alongside my friends.  It was awful.  I was near tears the night before the race, I was so bummed.  Frankly, it was irrational and silly to feel that way, but nonetheless, I did.  Until about 2:00 in the afternoon on race day.  When I saw the faces of the runners on Boulder Creek, and felt the heat of the road under the I-25 overpass, I got over that really fast.  No regrets over dropping out of Ironman Boulder.

So I got to share an amazing day with my racing friends.  I got to cheer for them along the course and scream at the top of my lungs at the finish line.  I am so proud of them, and every single athlete there that day.  I am not convinced that 140.6 is not in my future, but for now, I get to bask in the glow of my friends achievements, be proud of them today.  So congratulations Mark, Julie and Jim and all of the other athletes who gave their best.  I stand in awe of you!  You are an Ironman!

Julie's exuberant celebration at the finish! 

Stay tuned for my next blog: Soren's first Triathlon!

FROM THE RIDICULOUS TO THE SUBLIME

Maybe you’ve been wondering (then again, maybe you haven’t), what I’ve been doing with myself since my withdrawal from Ironman Boulder.

At first I stopped moving almost entirely.  Anyone that had walked into my house to see me on the couch may have called 911.  I needed the recovery time, given that I slept so hard and so well for a couple of weeks.  I went from training 12 to 15 hours a week to 3 hours.  It was nice – almost refreshing – for a while.  Then, my clothes started getting tighter.  I strongly dislike that feeling.  Still eating like an Ironman, I stopped training like one.  It’s like eating for two AFTER you’ve given birth.  Not a good plan.

So in June, I took on a goal to train for my fastest 5k ever.  Talk about going from the ridiculous to the sublime: 140.6 to 3.1.  It was beautiful!  My workouts were an hour, tops.  They were easy to fit in and fun to do. Each workout was a challenge: Hills, Intervals, Tempo, and long runs that never exceeded 8 miles.  After 10 weeks of that, I never ended up racing in an actual 5k, but I’m sure I could knock it out in under 30 minutes.  For the record, my clothes didn’t get much looser, but I felt less like a slug.

The church I attend ran a message series this summer called FIT.  Obviously, the topic revolved around being healthy, eating right, getting good rest and, basically “Choosing to live well.”  At first, I was irritated, frankly.  Here I am, fighting off feelings of being a quitter, and really looking forward to my upcoming date with netflix, and here is my pastor saying, “get moving!”  Excuse me, conscience, but I was enjoying the couch, thank you very much!  Well, after a couple of weeks, we were encouraged to do one big thing to help us get active.  So I made the announcement to my runner friends, “I’m signing up for the Rock and Roll Half Marathon in Denver!”  (Remember I was training for a 5k, right?)  Well, that happened, and I’m looking forward to racing in October.  As a result though, I now have more friends with whom I can run! 

As the series continued, our pastor threw down the gauntlet.  He challenged us to sign up for the Boulder Sunset Triathlon Series on August 30th.  Of course, challenge accepted.  This is me we’re talking about.  However, I hadn’t been swimming more than a few hundred meters since I dropped out of IMB.  And I wasn’t even speaking to Gary (my estranged bike).  I had 6 weeks to get ready for the Olympic distance, because heaven forbid I don't pick the longest distance possible.  No one pushed me, but I was jonesing for a plan.  I'm like a triathlon junkie..."it's just a 5k!  I'll stop after that, I promise!"

Yes, you are reading this right.  At the time of this posting, I have not one, but two races for which I am simultaneously training.  And oh my goodness, it’s all fun again!  It feels so good!!  This, of course, was the point.  I love triathlon.  I love running races.  I just had to pull it back and remember WHY I love it so much.  Sure, I have time goals.  I’d love to PR both the Olympic Tri and the 13.1.  I’m going to work hard to do so.  If I don’t reach those time goals, though, oh well.  I will still lap the “me” I left sitting on the couch or sleeping in.  Right now, I am enjoying the anal retentiveness of following a training plan.  I NEED finish lines, but they don’t have to be huge.  I just have to challenge myself to do my best, and maybe my best is better than last time.  Maybe just showing up and finishing is my best.

Here's the best part: encouraging my son to "train" for his first Kids Triathlon.  His event is a 25 meter swim, 2 mile bike ride, and a .25 mile run.  Let's face it.  "Training" is a very loose term.  We ride our bikes to the pool to swim.  Occasionally, we race to the mailbox and back.  He is so excited, but he’s learning how hard it is!  He asks me if I’ll go running with him, or if we can go for a bike ride.  He’s swimming very well.  He may end up loving triathlon, or maybe not so much.  All that matters to me is that he has as much fun as I do.