The One That Started It All

Last weekend my dear friend and coworker, Candy, and I completed Ramblin' Rose Raleigh. RRR is the shortest of short triathlons I've ever done: 225 yard pool swim, 9 mile bike, and 2 mile run. It's a very novice-friendly race, as is one of its sister races, Ramblin' Rose Chapel Hill (RRCH is only slightly longer with a 250 yd pool swim). It's also a women-only race, and there is so much love and encouragement for and from fellow moms, daughters, sisters, and girlfriends. The Ramblin' Rose series races are great first triathlons to do.

RRCH was the first triathlon I ever attempted (and completed). It was in October, 2008. Wes had been dabbling in triathlons for a couple years by that point, and he'd convinced me to give it a try. It seemed like a lot to coordinate in one race (and it is...three sports and transitions... What?!), and after I completed RRCH I felt like a complete bad ass. I'm serious. I was slow; I worried endlessly about completing the swim (remember, it was 250 yards in the pool...my warm-ups for my current 3000 yard swim workouts are longer than that) and wasn't so sure I could run 2 miles after biking 9. For my friends who participate in long distance triathlons, that probably sounds laughable. But for first timers (and remember, we were all first timers at some point), even RR was daunting and a little intimidating. So after I crossed that finished line, with Wes cheering his head off for me, I indeed felt like a bad ass rock star.

A month or so later, Wes completed the inaugural Beach2Battleship iron distance race (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile run). It was his first (but not last) iron distance event. I went with him and our good friend, Peng, and cheered my head off for them. And I swore (and I honestly meant it) that they would NEVER, EVER catch me doing a full ironman. Ever. Period. I had no interest (read that as nil, zilcho, not gonna happen) in ever pushing myself to those limits.

After that first RRCH in 2008, I decided to tri again. Over the course of the next year, I completed several more triathlons, going up to the Olympic distance Bandits Challenge. (*Funny note: I completed Bandits Challenge dead last that year and heard my name being announced as the last finisher, as the guy on the mike stopped the awards ceremony to declare my finish to cheers of dozens of gathered triathletes. I couldn't have been happier.)

By the end of 2009 I started to think about *maybe* registering for a half iron distance event, which would certainly be as long as I would ever go. No, seriously, not a step longer than a half. I registered for and completed Beach2Battleship half in November of last year. Before that event, however, I traveled with Wes to Louisville in August (last summer) for Ironman Louisville and fell in love. The energy and vibe of that race was like nothing I'd ever experienced. The elite, professional athletes were amazing to watch, but so were the regular athletes. The ordinary people. MY people. To watch those regular folks cross the finish line gave me hope. It inspired me and let me believe that if THEY could do it, then maybe I could do it. It would be hard, and the training would be grueling and time consuming. Some days, it would suck. I'd watched Wes go through training for two iron distance events, and it looked really, really hard. But yet, in spite of all the warning sirens going off in my head, there was something that pulled me in (incredibly...hadn't I SWORN I would never do an iron distance event?!). It was months before I figured out what that something was. At some point on that day in Louisville, I saw myself in those regular folks who were racing. I saw the anguish and pain of the day, and then I saw the delight, relief and near surprise on their faces as they crossed the finish line. They had a notion that they might be able to do the race when they registered. There was never any guarantee, just a possibility. And then they did it. Months after I registered I realized that on that day, the something that pushed me to register myself for this year's race was a belief in myself. If they could do it, maybe I could, too.

A couple months after I participate in Ironman Louisville this year, I will again participate in RRCH, the one that started it all for me. I will join hundreds of other women, the majority of them first-time triathletes, in the pool, on the bike, and on the run. By their mere presence at the race and desire to participate, they show that they at least believe they can. Really, what more can you ask for?

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Rejection and Bouncing Back

Ever since my training started 14 weeks ago, I've toyed with the idea of hiring a triathlon coach to help me reach my Ironman goal.  As I've documented throughout my posts, I am s-l-o-w.  Generally, this doesn't bother me much at all.  I enjoy my activities and tell myself I get more bang for my buck in the paid events.  Honestly, often my goal in triathlons is just to meet the cutoff times.  For anyone in the Triangle area of NC who has done Bandits Challenge (Olympic distance, badass, hilly tri), you'll appreciate the fact that my only goal was to finish within the 4:15 time cutoff.  I finished in something like 4:19 or 4:20 but had a strong (for me) race, and the Setup Events guys did not pull me from the course because, as they told me, I was "running strong and looked good out there".  I was elated.  I was also the last person to finish the race.  Those are the stars I reach for.

I run *about* a 5-hour marathon (I've run Marine Corps Marathon in 5:11 and then 5:03 the following year...still hoping to break that 5-hour mark) and try to enjoy every moment I'm on the course.  I typically average 15mph on the bike (though I've been struggling for some reason to hit that so far this season), and I swam 1.2 miles in the Beach2Battleship half iron distance event last November in 43:15 (with a current).  As far as endurance events and long distance triathlons go, I'm slow.

Slow might be a problem in Louisville.  I feel pretty sure that I can meet the cutoff times, but there are those lingering, nagging doubts about ability and my triathlon prowess.  I can't type 'triathlon prowess' in the context of myself without a little chuckle.  Bottom line is that I have some concern.  In my training plan, speed work is incorporated but I wonder whether it will be enough.

So since the beginning of my training I've contemplated hiring a coach.  I recently mentioned this to the unbelievably fantastic massage therapist (Julie Barton at Advanced PT in Cary) I see about once a month to work out the kinks.  I began seeing her a little more than a year ago in conjunction with an equally awesome physical therapist at Advanced PT for a longstanding, chronic problem along my right shoulder blade, and I continue to see her because she is OUTSTANDING.  Julie gave me the name of one of her clients who is also a triathlon coach.  I took this recommendation and ran with it, deciding to stop thinking about hiring a coach and actually HIRE a coach.

I emailed the coach and explained my situation to her.  I went into detail about my aspiration to become an Ironman in Louisville this August and how I was worried about my pace being a limiting factor.  I also explained that I was most concerned at this point with my swim time, as my husband (pseudo-coach) was working with me on my biking, and I felt like I could handle the run on my own.  I sent my email to her on a Sunday and awaited eagerly for her response on Monday.  Monday turned into Tuesday, then Tuesday into Wednesday.  Did she not receive my message?  Did it get lost in cyberspace?  I was hoping to meet up with her by the end of the week, ready to stroke! stroke! stroke! in the pool towards a time that would make Ian Thorpe and Michael Phelps proud.

When her email arrived, I was delighted and excited, ready to become a new kind of athlete in the pool.  And maybe she could help me with my cycling and running.  I'd come this far in deciding to hire a coach, I might as well go all the way.  To hell with a 16-hour something Ironman time.  Maybe I could finish somewhere in the 15th hour!  Oh, the POSSIBILITIES!

I read beyond the first line of her message, in which she apologized for the delay in her response.  She went on to explain that she took three days to respond because she was mulling over whether she had time to add another athlete to her schedule.  Whaaaat?  Whether she had time?  Uhhh, this wasn't in my plan.  She HAD to have time for me.  She was recommended to me.  I was to be her star athlete, who would go from slow to fast.  I could elaborate here on my confusion and disappointment, but the point is this: I was confused and disappointed.  She rejected me.  She wished me well and told me to keep her in mind for "the next time".  THE NEXT TIME?!  THIS WOULD BE THE ONLY TIME, LADY!  I was rejected and dejected.  I have no plans to ever attempt an Ironman again.  And the one coach I'd approached had rejected me flat out.

I spent that entire day feeling crappy about the irony.  Maybe she'd rejected me because I am so slow (*perhaps* I am a little bothered by my slowness).  Maybe I went into too much detail and gave her too many reasons to kick me to the curb before we'd even gotten started.  Maybe I seemed too needy.  Maybe...I needed to get a grip.  At least that's what my wonderful and ever-so-supportive husband told me, but in different words.  I think what he actually said was something more like, "Honey, triathlon season is in full swing.  Maybe she just doesn't have time."  Huh.  Well, maybe.  I suppose that's a possibility, too.  But that doesn't really allow me time to feel dejected and sorry for myself.  In fact, that seems like a very matter-of-fact, business-like way to look at things.  Hmmmmm.

After a couple days, the sting was mostly gone.  I swung from a feeling of rejection to an attitude of defiance.  Fine...she doesn't want to help me?!  Then I'm going to do this myself.  I will become an Ironman ON MY OWN.  And a couple days after THAT gem crossed my mind, I came to the reality of my situation: in no way am I doing this on my own.  I may not be paying a coach to tell me exactly what workouts to do at what pace on which days, but I am following a very detailed training plan written by an Ironman (Don Fink).  I swim in a pool at the Y with Ironmen (and they have the M-dot tatoos to prove it) with whom I chat and talk about training.  And most importantly, I bike, run, eat, sleep, talk, and generally spend nearly all my free time with an Ironman who is the love of my life.  Wes is a never-ending source of support and encouragement.  When I am feeling low and incapable, he reminds me of my ability and desire to do this thing.  He is my original source of inspiration to attempt to complete Ironman Louisville, and he is my biggest fan.

With or without the expertise of a hired coach, I will jump in the Ohio River on August 28 knowing that I am as well prepared as I could possibly be.  And I know that when I exit the water (before the cutoff time...here's hoping!), my biggest fan and the best coach I could have asked for will be right there, waiting to cheer me on through the rest of the biggest triathlon day of my life.

Catching Up

It's been a few weeks since I've posted.  As I've mentioned before, life happens and other things take priority.  That said, I've been reminded by my most loyal fan (Wes) that my loyal fans are patiently waiting on a blog update.  Personally, I think that group consists of one (Wes), but nonetheless I'm back at it.  This post serves as an update on the past few weeks' activities.

The weekend after Mariana broke her hand, Wes and I found ourselves riding alone.  There is a world of jokes to be had there, but we prefer to believe that all our usual riding partners were just busy.  It was, afterall, Easter weekend.  So we changed things up a bit, hopped on our cross bikes, and hit the south side of the American Tobacco Trail.  The south side of the ATT is not really road bike friendly.  It's 11 or 12 miles of mostly gravel path.  There is a section of about 3 miles that is part paved, part crushed gravel, but to get to it you must ride on gravel.  The south section of the ATT is why we bought our cross bikes.  As it turns out, Wes commutes to work every day on his, and during the winter months when training began I rode mine on the trainer in the garage.  Now that the weather is nice, it's nice to get my cross bike rolling on the trail.

From our house, we ride 6 or 7 miles to get to the northern-most trail head on the south side of the ATT.  With 11 or 12 miles of trail to ride headed south, it's about 18 miles one-way from our house, making for a nice (read that as challenging) 36-mile ride roundtrip.  The trail is *generally* pretty flat (with some low-grade inclines) but on crushed gravel it's constant work.  There is little coasting on this type of terrain.  It's constant work and a really nice calorie burn.  It was a nice change of pace this day.

At the turn-around point, we paused for a quick snack of a power bar, and Wes took a picture of me in my FS Series bike jersey (I still need to send the pics to the FS Series guys).









As we were getting ready to head back, Wes decided to take off his leg warmers as the temperature had started to rise a bit.  He LOVES being the center of the paparazzi's attention. :)




The rest of the ride this particular day was fairly uneventful.  I felt pretty tired and depleted, which on the one hand was somewhat disappointing since it was a shorter ride but on the other hand was understandable since riding this trail on the cross bikes is more constant work.  As we rode through the 3 miles that are part paved, part gravel, I stayed on the paved part while Wes worked it on the gravel.  We FINALLY had found level ground.  My heart rate was staying around 150, and so was Wes's.  He commented about how I was working him, and then we realized he was working as hard as I had been working all day.  WELCOME TO MY WORLD, IRONMAN. Needless to say, I took some pleasure in the leveling of the playing field for those three miles.  For those who can't imagine it on their own, Wes kicks my butt on the bike, and then some.  I enjoy any time we are riding side by side when he feels like he is working as hard as I am.  It's a rare occasion, to be sure.

I ended my ride after the 36 miles roundtrip.  Wes went on that day to ride enough to total 73 for the day.  Yep, he's an ironman alright.

The next day was Easter Sunday.  Sundays are run days, and after our run Wes suggested we ride our bikes to Duke Gardens.  The Gardens are in full bloom this time of year, so we hopped on our bikes (I on my road bike and Wes on his cross bike) and rode through the streets of Durham to Duke Gardens.  It was a gorgeous, warm, and sunny Easter Sunday, and it was the perfect time to view the Gardens.  On the way, we stopped for lunch on Erwin street and then had a frozen yogurt at Local Yogurt.  The fountain outside Local Yogurt is inviting, and I nearly took a dip.




After we found bike racks on Duke's campus, we spent some time walking through the beautiful gardens, admiring the in-full-bloom flowers.  For those who have never walked through Duke Gardens in Durham, NC, it is so worth it if you are ever in the area.  There are so many beautiful things to see.  It's acres upon acres of color, shade, and bloom.  It is well worth the time.








Some of my favorite features are the shade plants.  I have a yearly, ongoing battle with deer that live in our neighborhood.  They've taken it upon themselves to relieve me of my 10 hostas in my front garden, eating them down to stalks every year.  It's been a springtime source of frustration for the past 8 years!  Wes gets a chuckle out of it every year, and every year it aggravates the you-know-what out of me.  I've tried everything I can think of, including chemical deer repellants,  praying to the garden gods, and this year planting marigolds all around the hostas.  I'd heard that deer don't like marigolds and will avoid the hostas if the flowers are near.  Well...not so, at least not in my garden.  Grrrr.  I'm open to any tried-and-true suggestions.

In any case, I was envious of the huge, still-intact hostas at Duke Gardens and long for the day when I can have my own that aren't eaten down to stalks!  I didn't get any photos of the largest ones, but this pretty little plant in the shade also caught my eye.




There are also plenty of water features and soothing sounds to be found and heard. 




On the way home, we rode a few miles on the north (fully paved) portion of the ATT, and Wes found a shopping cart someone had left on the side of the trail.  There is a grocery store in the shopping center that splits the north and south sides of the trail (along with interstate-40...there are plans to build a bridge to go over I-40 to connect the north and south sides, but we still patiently wait for that).  He is a good deed doer, so he literally rode with the cart back to the grocery store and deposited it safely where it belonged.  I ran interference from the back.





Last weekend, Wes and I decided to try something different for our long bike ride.  We rode with a local cycling club, the Tarwheels, and followed a nearly 50-mile path in and around Durham, Chapel Hill, and Pittsboro.  We crossed the Haw River a few times, and I took a moment to capture the view.  The ride was beautiful and pushed the pace for me just enough that I felt like I worked hard the entire ride.  It was a hilly 50 miles, and my legs felt it for the next few days.




Finally, this weekend our long ride started with a tour of local greenways sponsored by Eastcoast Greenway Alliance.  The morning consisted of a large group ride through 28 miles of local greenways in and around Durham.  We took off from the Durham Bulls Athletic Park, with a kick-off wish from Congressman David Price.  There were many, many more cyclists that participated than I'd expected.  It was great to see so much local support!  The photo below shows just a fraction of the folks who attended.



I had to pay photographic homage to the Bull at the ballpark across the lawn.




After the 28 miles were complete, Wes and I rode across the street to Mellow Mushroom for our typical Saturday ride lunch.  We then proceeded to add more miles by riding to Maple View Farm Country Store, where they have the most fabulous ice cream in the area.  MVF is obviously rural farm country.  It's a working dairy farm that has a very popular ice cream store.  We've ridden past it before but (shockingly and sadly) never stopped there to have a treat until yesterday.  I decided then and there that the only time we could ever eat their ice cream is when we've ridden our bikes to the store.  No driving for us!  It's way too delicious to not feel obligated to burn those calories!  We had a nice stop that included large waffle cones and the purchase of pecans and farm honey.  Wes packed those goodies into his pannier on his bike, and we were again on our way.  By the time we reached the house, we'd logged just under 73 miles for the day.  Though the ride was broken by lunch and ice cream stops, I'm still considering it "a ride".  That said, it was my longest ride EVER.  Nearly 73 miles!  So exciting.  The trouble is, I have to keep one-upping myself, so who knows what next weekend might hold?!

As I've been writing today's blog, I realize that I tend to focus on the bike rides.  I really do swim and run, as well.  In fact, a few weeks ago I upped my swims to three times a week (instead of the two my training calls for).  I'm now swimming 2500 yards each time I swim, and those workouts take pretty much exactly an hour.  Thankfully, I can swim 2500 straight yards in the pool a bit faster than an hour, but I still want my swim time to get better.  *IF* I can swim a straight line in the Ohio River in Louisville (which is extremely doubtful in open water), I'll be swimming 4,220 yards (2.4 miles).  At my current pace, I can expect to swim the Ironman distance in well under 2 hours, but that's not accounting for current, nerves/anxiety, and a whole lot of other flailing bodies vying for space and speed.  I finally sought out the assistance of a coach to help increase my swim speed, but I was denied (more on this in a future post).  So I keep working on it on my own in the Y's pool.  It's early mornings (I wake up just before 5am on swim days to swim before work) and a lot of effort, but I'm hopeful it will eventually pay off.

I've begun to fall out of love with running during this training, but I think it's because it's become an after thought.  I'm very focused on my swim and bike times, and I'm putting forth a lot of effort to get faster in those sports.  There is much more for me to gain by swimming and biking faster in this race.  As for the run, I just need to get to it (i.e., not get DQ'd for not meeting times on the swim and bike) and then get through it.  The thought of running (okay, let's be honest here, run/walking) a marathon AFTER I've swum 2.4 miles in the disgusting Ohio River and then biked 112 hilly miles in and around the countryside of Louisville is something I just can't imagine.  Having run 2 marathons, I can't fathom dealing with that kind of pain after what will be my longest bike ride.  I need to figure out how to reconcile that, because that's the plan.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of Week 15 of 30 for this training plan.  I am nearly halfway through this adventure, which is simultaneously frightening and exciting.  Will I be ready for Ironman Lousiville on August 28?  Time will tell.  I know I plan to give it everything I have.