tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31466166216651264872024-03-05T13:54:25.414-08:00Going For GoofyAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.comBlogger324125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-36557720148705005562014-05-18T19:02:00.001-07:002014-05-18T19:02:58.937-07:00Saturday Mountain Miles - Topanga State ParkSaturday morning, 8:20am: At first, I bound. I am so excited to be out on the trails, an Explorer! with a capital letter and an attached exclamation point of my joy. The initial trail, <a href="http://www.hikespeak.com/trails/los-liones-trail-in-the-santa-monica-mountains/">Los Liones Canyon</a>, is a single track at first. Technical and slowly winding up and up and up. And I bound, and jog, and walk, and shimmy and bound some more. I climb until I have 1 mile behind me. <br />
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Then I am hit by The Waffle. You know in the Lion King when Raffiki hits Simba with the stick, and says, "Oh yes, the past can hurt. But from the way I see it, you can either run from it, or... learn from it." If you don't ... here you go! (How's that for a good running song at the end, too!)<br />
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<center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/dZfGTL2PY3E" width="459"></iframe></center><br />
For me, 'the past' is the extra waffle I ate for breakfast. It hurts. And in that moment - and the next hour to come - I learn from it. I'm normally light on my run breakfasts - two gluten-free toaster waffles with some almond butter. Maybe 400 cals and not a lot of volume. But before this particular run, I added an extra. Because 17 miles in the mountains was enough to warrant a third. So says my running mathematics. I've never excelled at math. The extra one hit me at mile 1. Like a rock in my gut. And climbing another 1000 feet over the next mile and a half would only magnify its punch exponentially. <br />
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I hadn't been on this trail since September, and I'd conveniently forgotten what a slag it is to get up to the Parker Mesa Overlook. It isn't hard because it's steep - there were plenty of hikers taking it on. It's that the trail is steep AND since I'm all dressed to the nines like a trail runner, I have this expectation of myself that I have to power hike it. Like a boss. And so I try to do that, and my heart rate rockets up and skin gets cold and I am the slowest human being to ever walk up this mountain...(the waffle turns into a total brain meltdown at mile 2). But I'm sure as hell not calling it a day this early.<br />
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The wise say, '<i>Never judge a run by it's first mile</i>.' And I'd add, '<i>Or the first 1,000 feet of climbing</i>.' Through sly, used-car-salesman-like negotiations with my body, my brain keeps me going. I head out to the Overlook and get a nice ocean breeze sliding through the mountain passes. The moment of pause helps me find my breath and step. After a minute of settling in, physically and mentally, I continue on to Trippet Ranch. As soon as I take a few steps in that direction, my brain/body/waffle fight ceases. I'm ready for this run.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkzW8rSRn9bifHk5pOJg6QpgNpL9ziZKGgAgbiaLlrDp7sPMX_1FqyBwyPBtU_1MO2NbNoNzjD8cFxBG7MndGHwQWpCAY6IRNs5yL0p8bAFSZ01Icq6JgIpUB66TJUs-t9cD_0KPV9w6KU/s1600/Overlook+Pt1-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkzW8rSRn9bifHk5pOJg6QpgNpL9ziZKGgAgbiaLlrDp7sPMX_1FqyBwyPBtU_1MO2NbNoNzjD8cFxBG7MndGHwQWpCAY6IRNs5yL0p8bAFSZ01Icq6JgIpUB66TJUs-t9cD_0KPV9w6KU/s400/Overlook+Pt1-1.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Looking south toward Santa Monica, CA</center></i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifiVwWD0UGiO_0V_X_02OWgV0z8-ucIxtFtj9fkXHPJAi-Mupdstpf6yjBqJvvKizUi7YBuq9mBMB-E_NANuUrOZifwM8arwyTbwWXZifFLm4-7Kbo84ynuwRHbYQRH9PaKlJLfSo4oURA/s1600/Overlook+Pano.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifiVwWD0UGiO_0V_X_02OWgV0z8-ucIxtFtj9fkXHPJAi-Mupdstpf6yjBqJvvKizUi7YBuq9mBMB-E_NANuUrOZifwM8arwyTbwWXZifFLm4-7Kbo84ynuwRHbYQRH9PaKlJLfSo4oURA/s400/Overlook+Pano.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Parker Mesa Overlook</center></i><br />
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Up and down and up and down ... I sloth along the wide, rocky fire road. I enjoy the walls of mountain in the distance. I breath in nature and sip my water. I calculate the odds of a forest fire, earthquake or other random catastrophe to befall me during my journey (odds: almost nil). And little by little, I make progress.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UPnmpEsGn6wqHMIV0SuqVIJgfGQthKCAp7WLQewyHVv1Xu4-swrI7FP6vuLIOILCkEVWj0psslxo8GbrXiGRV3LWKmou4ogZ4HBp8iYgBGn_eEhb_j3W92UuFdNqcCFBdgroZ_m9rBuW/s1600/Trail+heading+to+Trippet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UPnmpEsGn6wqHMIV0SuqVIJgfGQthKCAp7WLQewyHVv1Xu4-swrI7FP6vuLIOILCkEVWj0psslxo8GbrXiGRV3LWKmou4ogZ4HBp8iYgBGn_eEhb_j3W92UuFdNqcCFBdgroZ_m9rBuW/s400/Trail+heading+to+Trippet.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>The road heading north into the heart of the run</center></i><br />
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I make my way along the wide fire road for a couple of rolling miles, just staring at the spread before me. After a half hour or so, beautiful <a href="http://www.hikespeak.com/tag/topanga-state-park/">Topanga State Park</a> appears on my right. Side note: Very grateful for all of the folks (volunteers) who manage the upkeep of these mountains and their trails.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikGUCYQqjInQtb4H9JfIZfkX-cpYxMQPojWDjJvX4aryknKr5rtJVra3N7N5mIBqxEmrE_s79QDwY-jnehmth8S_NpebwJNqjWlfWnbVH9R70OdnS0-r6Y6xktmHolezFd5Db-uXsDuuuX/s1600/Looking+toward+Eagle+Rock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikGUCYQqjInQtb4H9JfIZfkX-cpYxMQPojWDjJvX4aryknKr5rtJVra3N7N5mIBqxEmrE_s79QDwY-jnehmth8S_NpebwJNqjWlfWnbVH9R70OdnS0-r6Y6xktmHolezFd5Db-uXsDuuuX/s400/Looking+toward+Eagle+Rock.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Topanga State Park. Way in the distance (left of center) is the Eagle Rock. It's the beige nub at the horizon</center></i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78mIwE65G0Ym0sXGTokgIrcnSVajFm0jI4m3Uh4MgMsw9I0aWWoFb8RzOKTH3WXjOWZ5AguWM0H8StqB7qvGsAsxNjtqV_LtCCSX7TosOp29OAyv1B9TAPuOQ6XMbYR7JsOtp0b9lhyL0/s1600/021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78mIwE65G0Ym0sXGTokgIrcnSVajFm0jI4m3Uh4MgMsw9I0aWWoFb8RzOKTH3WXjOWZ5AguWM0H8StqB7qvGsAsxNjtqV_LtCCSX7TosOp29OAyv1B9TAPuOQ6XMbYR7JsOtp0b9lhyL0/s400/021.JPG" /></a></div><center><i>Eagle Rock up close, last weekend</center></i><br />
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I turn the corner of the road and see, about 2,000 feet below me, the canyon I ran through last weekend. I look at the red walls to my left and recall that last weekend, I was climbing up up up looking left right at these red slats of mountain in the distance. It was an odd "ah-ha" moment as my mental map and true geography clicked together. Once again I patted myself on the back, "Good Job, Explorer! Way to explore!"<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD8JEcvG2flVdRp10_UhEn6Ivq3Iqy4aEUmHI732CNx906_rlso8HEyZvImpz5aZ_1XUMxOAQ3ZJD8IJwoL8PMPaiI9wJbJ1QHSg-N4maTEB090YEwY79RxNQ2_frN8meIEobm9GlM19aD/s1600/Down+at+Santa+Ynez.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD8JEcvG2flVdRp10_UhEn6Ivq3Iqy4aEUmHI732CNx906_rlso8HEyZvImpz5aZ_1XUMxOAQ3ZJD8IJwoL8PMPaiI9wJbJ1QHSg-N4maTEB090YEwY79RxNQ2_frN8meIEobm9GlM19aD/s400/Down+at+Santa+Ynez.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_WLt8mKIqqau35TZKemUoManNQdaxkR3OTSrR_kiWPNAoq5BnsRPrAtJO4l7kTWYApaLT6e9zVa4jXsUm-8BqfZQcTwhlXRcLvbPt-z-HZ1fKiucvYn20p6tLI9-XpOqmIMK8r7w7ObMu/s1600/Perspective+from+SY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_WLt8mKIqqau35TZKemUoManNQdaxkR3OTSrR_kiWPNAoq5BnsRPrAtJO4l7kTWYApaLT6e9zVa4jXsUm-8BqfZQcTwhlXRcLvbPt-z-HZ1fKiucvYn20p6tLI9-XpOqmIMK8r7w7ObMu/s400/Perspective+from+SY.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Top Photo: Standing on the fire road looking down into Quarry Canyon and the Santa Ynez Trail</center></i><center><i>Bottom Photo: Last weekend, looking up at the Topanga Fire Road. That strip of red rocks? That's where I'm taking the top photo from. Love the perspective.</center></i><br />
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A few miles later, I descend into Trippet Ranch to refill my water and wring the sweat out of my shirt. I'd only gone about 8 miles, but was feeling the heat from a mostly-shadeless tour. Once reharnessed my pack, I headed toward the <a href="http://nobodyhikesinla.com/tag/musch-trail/">Musch trail</a>, the gateway to a meadow of wildflowers. My original plan of going out and back (ie turning around at the end of the path and retracing my steps) was ditched as my interest in the trail grew. Literally, a field of grass and flower ahead of me. More grass and flowers here than on all of the tiny, West Side manicured lawns combined. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEViafU0ctQYQ1j6-v50UehRmGSEtbKaSFpKMrVMoelIlN8mr4xKJOE7VesnIGEiSBJRBFGuP3uWwIElrPPjSJFP33F-FU88T4lG9-Wn4QBNe7yOgYmvlHlQxhvaA5_PtsJs_T55GgA6sR/s1600/Flowers+and+dirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEViafU0ctQYQ1j6-v50UehRmGSEtbKaSFpKMrVMoelIlN8mr4xKJOE7VesnIGEiSBJRBFGuP3uWwIElrPPjSJFP33F-FU88T4lG9-Wn4QBNe7yOgYmvlHlQxhvaA5_PtsJs_T55GgA6sR/s400/Flowers+and+dirt.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMNsFmZq9XcpYVL0MIXqD1pz28cdRxrF1zzlfPOPOtPnD24hfJsOEdV6LJvqXlcqCbgGZY7v0idcXu2vhyphenhyphen5hOf3MWh4shRd58_b8ttYqcdY0YIZuoJzN_C0xCWUfrqnTDnDF_vVnQUyuKV/s1600/Grass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMNsFmZq9XcpYVL0MIXqD1pz28cdRxrF1zzlfPOPOtPnD24hfJsOEdV6LJvqXlcqCbgGZY7v0idcXu2vhyphenhyphen5hOf3MWh4shRd58_b8ttYqcdY0YIZuoJzN_C0xCWUfrqnTDnDF_vVnQUyuKV/s400/Grass.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuM5UvMwxgtw0lJ1HTxg-Mw2Rtekyk745gCYUZoHxB4Xi4cTs7GqPs-jiJWCM0eBjUNRYb0sxRwffZl1GUmRLbU6Bv0HEzXRHfZ0plkL0UwHDnAq20gO1e3xFNuq8qEMNTtfF7S4Xp5E8J/s1600/Grassland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuM5UvMwxgtw0lJ1HTxg-Mw2Rtekyk745gCYUZoHxB4Xi4cTs7GqPs-jiJWCM0eBjUNRYb0sxRwffZl1GUmRLbU6Bv0HEzXRHfZ0plkL0UwHDnAq20gO1e3xFNuq8qEMNTtfF7S4Xp5E8J/s400/Grassland.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNAis8KCx4K7MGwvs5daoUmIfq9zy6Z5qi2roytkpCQdkkhWSZ3ToipjmYvNWmFJ35gZ9vJxhgMPtDE_ckNbFfQ7zdR4upBqd0Eg-aHZGnHpX8neiBYmWAxQHqqzGThZOnEwLe_8ZaOJ1E/s1600/Trail+w+Flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNAis8KCx4K7MGwvs5daoUmIfq9zy6Z5qi2roytkpCQdkkhWSZ3ToipjmYvNWmFJ35gZ9vJxhgMPtDE_ckNbFfQ7zdR4upBqd0Eg-aHZGnHpX8neiBYmWAxQHqqzGThZOnEwLe_8ZaOJ1E/s400/Trail+w+Flowers.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Musch Meadows - new terrain that isn't a canopy single track, fire road or cliffside climb</center></i><br />
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Julie Andrews in the Swiss Alps ... you got nothing on this kid swirling around in happy wonder at the sight and sound of nature before me. I decided to follow the trail as far as it goes and then re-route from there. Lucky for me, it dumped me right back into the Ranch parking lot. Another refill and a climb to start the trip home.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhdD-0-D4Z19TYnOgZZD22SpivL8wJovdFB6aAkKkxtTrrSuc5H6aVmEPz-iSv5WNH_w4fdMWmBc70NGbOK204zDsvtxQZrAV24Fd5bizqzx5Wo2xzzCTn-pkmXPO0AogRYvYF4KGE0Bb/s1600/Trippet+Sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhdD-0-D4Z19TYnOgZZD22SpivL8wJovdFB6aAkKkxtTrrSuc5H6aVmEPz-iSv5WNH_w4fdMWmBc70NGbOK204zDsvtxQZrAV24Fd5bizqzx5Wo2xzzCTn-pkmXPO0AogRYvYF4KGE0Bb/s400/Trippet+Sign.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Where the water is at...</center></i><br />
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Unlike road running, or even Rocky Raccoon (race-related) training, my time in the mountains recently has been mentally calming (when I'm not fighting waffles in my belly). I hike the hills, run the flats and downs, and enjoy knowing that I'm thousands of feet removed from traffic. There are a few trail running clubs and groups around Los Angeles (<a href="http://beta.mountaingoats.org/">SM Mountain Goats</a>, <a href="http://www.socalcoyotes.com/">Coyotes</a>, and our own nascent <a href="http://tritrain.com/">TriTrain </a>Trails team) and I do wish my (mostly triathlon/Ironman) friends enjoyed the exploration as much as I do, but even being out there alone is well worth the effort and soothing of the psyche. In some ways, it makes the journey that much more special - it's my legs and brain that get me there, no excuses.<br />
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I scuttle back along the Topanga Fire road and catch a glimpse of the ocean in the distance, a sign that it's time to head down to earth soon. Topanga Canyon Rd winds through the mountain below me, the cars looking like the MicroMachines I used to play with in the 80s.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp2rzXrQ5mXVWC61xxgximNs4xv5nBhNJVc-lVzgCc7UymQ-UFmevIGHEAR0vltj0p8OHAyp5rv48uV4WrrgmlgMyuz1SdHk6Zmr_mixXnJkk40hcoXEBXGV5pin4AIjVivkGXHaShs0BB/s1600/Back+to+Los+Liones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp2rzXrQ5mXVWC61xxgximNs4xv5nBhNJVc-lVzgCc7UymQ-UFmevIGHEAR0vltj0p8OHAyp5rv48uV4WrrgmlgMyuz1SdHk6Zmr_mixXnJkk40hcoXEBXGV5pin4AIjVivkGXHaShs0BB/s400/Back+to+Los+Liones.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Heading south of East Topanga Fire Rd. The haze in the distance is from the rash of San Diego Fires</center></i><br />
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Though tired, I'm reluctant to leave the dirt and rocks, so at a split in the trail, I delay my return another mile to catch one more glimpse of Malibu from the Overlook on high. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHPL2W-pQbmRXuZ4UedkmbOYmX4rVrhsSjloK0CZ24JyckmELi3DLrReALqgHtFCPecFHYbH3cNwGQwEF5Rtq0-R20qEGzdBppRh6xBa2GHmrFwN3iZw8Bvk2ZHguTnw-FLNtUZ53VW5mg/s1600/Back+to+Parker+Mesa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHPL2W-pQbmRXuZ4UedkmbOYmX4rVrhsSjloK0CZ24JyckmELi3DLrReALqgHtFCPecFHYbH3cNwGQwEF5Rtq0-R20qEGzdBppRh6xBa2GHmrFwN3iZw8Bvk2ZHguTnw-FLNtUZ53VW5mg/s400/Back+to+Parker+Mesa.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>My back to Parker Mesa, time to call it a day.</center></i><br />
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The 2-mile descent has some wicked drops which my quads register as I let gravity do its worst to me. Bam! Bam! Bam! Each step. I can manage a technical descent fairly well, but need much more practice on relaxing during the plummet. My feet and my pack make enough noise to warn hikers that a crazy runner is coming. They slide to the side and offer cheers. I smile and laugh and try not to faceplant. One final mile of single track between me and the cars. I dodge past hikers and walkers and coming spitting out of the canyon exactly 4 hours after I started. Destroyed and happy.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRYwgHRNMSVjCb0zCEWeZOmWyjVwW0s0Eyo41rJ4JEInpn6WvCLt-zv713yOzxuqehcVQGR_TluJrS077GdUex8CK3qU2MVYoKLWUYjJWopagGZwYUWcSIfnn4zD7UVptDMtrTgNfRxjB/s1600/Trail+Map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRYwgHRNMSVjCb0zCEWeZOmWyjVwW0s0Eyo41rJ4JEInpn6WvCLt-zv713yOzxuqehcVQGR_TluJrS077GdUex8CK3qU2MVYoKLWUYjJWopagGZwYUWcSIfnn4zD7UVptDMtrTgNfRxjB/s400/Trail+Map.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Los Liones Trailhead, Parker Mesa Overlook, E Topanga Fire Road, Trippet Ranch, Musch Meadows, Camp Musch and back again. Like Dorothy from Kansas to Oz and back again</center></i><br />
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18 miles. 4hrs. 5250ft of climbing. I rarely feel 'proud' of my efforts. You just put your head down and get it done. But this one felt really good, and I'm proud of getting after it. I rose above the lows. I pushed forward and explored. And I coached myself through the solo effort. No medal, no bagel, but a lot of feel-good feelings. <br />
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Tacked on another 20 miles on Sunday with my TNT team, and that wraps the weekend. It all adds up to suffering just a little bit better, getting a little bit stronger. I'm good with that equation.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-5868440529471922442014-05-05T12:32:00.001-07:002014-05-05T16:20:27.655-07:00In the Dirt<center>Where I've been spending a lot of my time lately.</center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdL3S7j1QGQlj6QjfBUkiadUFDv0pAwOfaXef1tvvU1yeOnMogdQ3BzlHFV8ZgLq676XrTbu2SnZdkn7FgBRgbOBSD-TTvZNLJGLQRG40zF7tKpA7A5RK00iqwCoTvkxT6VDrfZ2MO9Ruq/s1600/Temescal-Backbone+Junction.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdL3S7j1QGQlj6QjfBUkiadUFDv0pAwOfaXef1tvvU1yeOnMogdQ3BzlHFV8ZgLq676XrTbu2SnZdkn7FgBRgbOBSD-TTvZNLJGLQRG40zF7tKpA7A5RK00iqwCoTvkxT6VDrfZ2MO9Ruq/s400/Temescal-Backbone+Junction.jpg" /></a></div><i><center>Temescal Ridge Trail, looking south</i></center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcIWVlOJSdxiJmd_y35Iv8GGc9HUSRsNil9bMl3jOHj8w6DB1CduzFGuFR6X9IV6S06P6v-jPvAOEiaRVQORIZ0rgLHgBXnv6jAcXrQlmf8ZZZJRfX366qe1rAo5NTk_vsKrtVPftI9ZNg/s1600/Rogers+Fire+Road+Part+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcIWVlOJSdxiJmd_y35Iv8GGc9HUSRsNil9bMl3jOHj8w6DB1CduzFGuFR6X9IV6S06P6v-jPvAOEiaRVQORIZ0rgLHgBXnv6jAcXrQlmf8ZZZJRfX366qe1rAo5NTk_vsKrtVPftI9ZNg/s400/Rogers+Fire+Road+Part+2.jpg" /></a></div><i><center>Rogers Fire Road a few miles north of Inspiration Point at Will Rogers State Park</i></center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVGaYMrWCxjgXxEXzSt-mFdwRTvDOiPBGq0n2bs7b2eQgGKJiI5CayMewR5buHr24S0PRmEOFJNwYM2TMLj9FudWrvxHfXeGZbFfgSVvuIiSJsVU0im8jfKvDIZc1iRBwIejFFiotYfRNc/s1600/Rogers+Fire+Road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVGaYMrWCxjgXxEXzSt-mFdwRTvDOiPBGq0n2bs7b2eQgGKJiI5CayMewR5buHr24S0PRmEOFJNwYM2TMLj9FudWrvxHfXeGZbFfgSVvuIiSJsVU0im8jfKvDIZc1iRBwIejFFiotYfRNc/s400/Rogers+Fire+Road.jpg" /></a></div><i><center>Rogers Fire Road, heading north</i></center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGaA1xW6DgohxDXV94SfI0ZjLaoKHsdUyDBNRgQdAXHANnl2mmXEv5vaCnpeHoAQFmRJV4X8JfAzz7IQPdjPBEdMCl0iFC1heU6qeAhsXntpaTONjSiwCqiR5Wrl5GL-x1zmS3Q23t-fkG/s1600/backbone+dirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGaA1xW6DgohxDXV94SfI0ZjLaoKHsdUyDBNRgQdAXHANnl2mmXEv5vaCnpeHoAQFmRJV4X8JfAzz7IQPdjPBEdMCl0iFC1heU6qeAhsXntpaTONjSiwCqiR5Wrl5GL-x1zmS3Q23t-fkG/s400/backbone+dirt.jpg" /></a></div><i><center>Somewhere along the Backbone Trail north of Temescal Canyon</i></center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkPxHldmYh_WJVbuMujHuaFpPbp1kvqFSUPVRQ3BV8zfNvEXNTNq9cqm3b9bqhrz4YvjpT8klxWBoBq73YGjR4QrueLnKZw-cqgvSEiFVfXfA_qa-CXUahxLXUNF-I9zOBP8k9cH5LVatc/s1600/backbone+grass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkPxHldmYh_WJVbuMujHuaFpPbp1kvqFSUPVRQ3BV8zfNvEXNTNq9cqm3b9bqhrz4YvjpT8klxWBoBq73YGjR4QrueLnKZw-cqgvSEiFVfXfA_qa-CXUahxLXUNF-I9zOBP8k9cH5LVatc/s400/backbone+grass.jpg" /></a></div><i><center>More Backbone Trail. The route was a mix of fire road, single track, top of the mountain/bottom of the valley, shady, exposed and grassy areas, and some technical descents - all in one run.</i></center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeP3XQzQIzjLiGYa0rGFUOFw26s4hZnAe4lUbPTMWT5CjUYFgsW_-Yb_ouwZ_oCnckTJ222AruCxE_GHkuuzgraUISwjaZor0jaNC2Z6aHF9LGHO1ESFsHFswwENvX9XEvIAnXvmx83VV/s1600/Climb+From+Inspiration+Pt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeP3XQzQIzjLiGYa0rGFUOFw26s4hZnAe4lUbPTMWT5CjUYFgsW_-Yb_ouwZ_oCnckTJ222AruCxE_GHkuuzgraUISwjaZor0jaNC2Z6aHF9LGHO1ESFsHFswwENvX9XEvIAnXvmx83VV/s400/Climb+From+Inspiration+Pt.jpg" /></a></div><i><center>Will Rogers State Park, about a mile and a half from the trailhead</i></center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU9uFJ_2j81QXplU8YO_hB6mDw80pksrbcOrqjxjYGvLXaIgqShPUZVrl_hE-ulYnwyNpfMLXARIP3cfvXO8O4nFGmWf-tVAyRBERmRwE2NKpYreUbl6upDraFckNIhKUQ4JxGK-f2TINI/s1600/Griffith+Park+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU9uFJ_2j81QXplU8YO_hB6mDw80pksrbcOrqjxjYGvLXaIgqShPUZVrl_hE-ulYnwyNpfMLXARIP3cfvXO8O4nFGmWf-tVAyRBERmRwE2NKpYreUbl6upDraFckNIhKUQ4JxGK-f2TINI/s400/Griffith+Park+2.jpg" /></a></div><i><center>Somewhere near Mnt. Hollywood Drive in Griffith Park</i></center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3f7UEjcJbb9j1XHsnSBIqdwvq3swZEMMw5CfTO9qMwCuVOSDKsv5RZqVcY1_Z8mRLUtu5H3an7IDSyemFf16Y2hVK-zNzQJxnWBElfLsPVAmvX52fazPL3YbxNk-DHcW1IRoBGK9jVLM/s1600/Griffith+Park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3f7UEjcJbb9j1XHsnSBIqdwvq3swZEMMw5CfTO9qMwCuVOSDKsv5RZqVcY1_Z8mRLUtu5H3an7IDSyemFf16Y2hVK-zNzQJxnWBElfLsPVAmvX52fazPL3YbxNk-DHcW1IRoBGK9jVLM/s400/Griffith+Park.jpg" /></a></div><i><center>Trail in the northwest corner of Griffith Park</i></center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTx9AUaNG4wkAgu7xh4ouP2YEbUmfSraHSadwHDm1aZbwS0ncTPixNsKqdaBkfCMpIm-Vs45wAroXqHl5k8SSnMAT_zzggAvjvLvERSaYGjFdokQA4DUjQkY_wIZXnQHOyIqcdxmSSe5ux/s1600/Lo+Jolla+Rd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTx9AUaNG4wkAgu7xh4ouP2YEbUmfSraHSadwHDm1aZbwS0ncTPixNsKqdaBkfCMpIm-Vs45wAroXqHl5k8SSnMAT_zzggAvjvLvERSaYGjFdokQA4DUjQkY_wIZXnQHOyIqcdxmSSe5ux/s400/Lo+Jolla+Rd.jpg" /></a></div><i><center>The Loop Trail in La Jolla Canyon. I actually haven't been here in a while, but it's one of my favorites. Due for another trip there soon</i></center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgowJqtPyLp4sr_SrBKLIba4qrolZJSNlamlguDjboOmwLBqyCUHbUQu3zXGJPrbQ1un4stgur77EYs2qAYksH2G3RVk31S2N2MR7bS0BK9WgEYC0mfzrgBgFNQ3Y4Bx00AvRngmQooxygL/s1600/PCT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgowJqtPyLp4sr_SrBKLIba4qrolZJSNlamlguDjboOmwLBqyCUHbUQu3zXGJPrbQ1un4stgur77EYs2qAYksH2G3RVk31S2N2MR7bS0BK9WgEYC0mfzrgBgFNQ3Y4Bx00AvRngmQooxygL/s400/PCT.jpg" /></a></div><i><center>Pacific Crest Trail at Bouquet Canyon Rd in Leona Valley. My first time into the Angeles National Forest. Didn't get to run this one but watched people do it. Looks amazing. Will revisit at a later date.</i></center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS2f7o76V7NA8ga2PVBbFXmEz03gblxAW2_RsQki-m4WMrI9gd0eTAucKdJROkWWMBi2mgxrqSzP3yndGKP33ZWnvtgoDN50_uwKrqkwn57AE2sbCVKVdM34__VgnM5tbzU8H-S0tsrJou/s1600/Zuma+Climb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS2f7o76V7NA8ga2PVBbFXmEz03gblxAW2_RsQki-m4WMrI9gd0eTAucKdJROkWWMBi2mgxrqSzP3yndGKP33ZWnvtgoDN50_uwKrqkwn57AE2sbCVKVdM34__VgnM5tbzU8H-S0tsrJou/s400/Zuma+Climb.jpg" /></a></div><i><center>Looking back on a 650ft climb over a mile or so on the Canyon View Trail at Zuma Canyon. Steals your breath way on the way up for sure.</i></center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8_Z3f4DHe49YqDegZSQ-ATQT0DD3g7CD_4Cd0YfPwIzgotScvJhboFcFVSe_t4JR-h7CG7y0E9kVGguE4qlxNpyosVuU7loXv6288O4d272a_eki0MHA4vdgiimFfi9l704RWZ7KW15s7/s1600/Zuma+Corner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8_Z3f4DHe49YqDegZSQ-ATQT0DD3g7CD_4Cd0YfPwIzgotScvJhboFcFVSe_t4JR-h7CG7y0E9kVGguE4qlxNpyosVuU7loXv6288O4d272a_eki0MHA4vdgiimFfi9l704RWZ7KW15s7/s400/Zuma+Corner.jpg" /></a></div><i><center>After the climb up, you wind around. Still the Canyon View trail.</i></center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCgNy4otxgOlZW6OnForuoB0nWH8C_OlF0a-CCpcSj610xwst9gQ3DnE9n90fTvuiG0B1ChYP_n55eO5ReRC7zJtnH6y48jOdb3WqzTdBCebVgXbVPwgSNxikACiiHqo21KDhrF1ujxIXS/s1600/Zuma+Canyon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCgNy4otxgOlZW6OnForuoB0nWH8C_OlF0a-CCpcSj610xwst9gQ3DnE9n90fTvuiG0B1ChYP_n55eO5ReRC7zJtnH6y48jOdb3WqzTdBCebVgXbVPwgSNxikACiiHqo21KDhrF1ujxIXS/s400/Zuma+Canyon.jpg" /></a></div><i><center>Part of the Zuma Loop Trail, on the opposite side of the Canyon. I spent much of last year biking and running at Zuma Beach, not more than a few miles away. Had no idea there was the same name trailhead so close by.</i></center><br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-83117696775680109252014-03-18T15:59:00.000-07:002014-03-18T15:59:13.089-07:00The RowboatThe ratio of Race Reports to 'Brain' Reports on my blog is about 1:3. Overdue for something in the psyche arena...<br />
<br />
Training for an ultra for 6 months was a test of my resolve, a long and weary road that allowed me to experience some crucial lessons about commitment, heart and endurance. When the season wrapped for me – I can clearly recall this moment, driving alone back to my apartment from the airport and crew meeting spot – it was a giant exhale. My brain no longer was consumed by The Race. I spent the next two weekends having a blast with my friends, not caring if I worked out or sleep in or eat a donut hole. Since November 2012 I’d used almost every single weekend for Ironman or ultra training. And now, I could take a breather and just have some non-sports fun.<br />
<br />
And then the sparkle of having free weekends faded. Though much of my time became consumed by my coaching roles, I started to itch. Physically and mentally. What happens when I start itching? I start thinking, reflecting, scheming and fretting.<br />
<br />
As a worshipper of all things scheduled and goal-oriented, the last few weeks have had me bobbing around in a little rowboat, just floating around in a giant sea of potential, but no real destination on the horizon. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix723rkOq7AZX-MKrcWxMFge-1KwXB3VLjMHLIH6pK6tcw9DZQZN4VEJ-7HcY82ZXMTEXXpm5LZmLQ2XInZ_1c6F4RVdsNcxlqJv507Zx9q422lbDigY3vrFIfpDRL1fD8VyOTzwHaLdk3/s1600/rowboat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix723rkOq7AZX-MKrcWxMFge-1KwXB3VLjMHLIH6pK6tcw9DZQZN4VEJ-7HcY82ZXMTEXXpm5LZmLQ2XInZ_1c6F4RVdsNcxlqJv507Zx9q422lbDigY3vrFIfpDRL1fD8VyOTzwHaLdk3/s640/rowboat.jpg" /></a></div><br />
See, once I realized I could actually run 100 miles, the world opened up a bit more – the sea of opportunity expanded. Or rather, suddenly I saw just how great it was. I felt, and still feel, like with enough commitment and planning, I can do anything I want. It’s a fantastic feeling. Sometimes. I say sometimes because in other-times, when I’m not actively doing something that pushes me to grow, change, suffer, overcome and triumph … some big, grandiose undertaking … I get frustrated with myself. All that determination I was able to muster - where is it? Time's ticking, there are dreams to be chased, but I can't figure out what exactly they are. So here I am just sitting in my rowboat, wasting time and potential. Not sailing toward a challenge. Not conquering the world. Is it a reaction to being overscheduled so long? It is it laziness? Is it ... acceptable?<br />
<br />
<b>Working hard is great, being lazy sometimes is great, but failed potential is the worst</b>. - <i>Campbell Scott</i><br />
<br />
Looking back a few weeks, I began to notice that every three or four days, I would (to continue with the metaphor) start rowing insanely toward some sort point on the horizon. “There! I will head there!” And I would exhaust myself for a day or two charging along at the new idea or goal. “A race! A career change! An intense amount of introspection to dissect all of my personality flaws and insecurities so I can banish them away and be all-power and adorable (at the same time)!” Row, row, row your boat, frenetically toward whatever shiny object catches your telescope… <br />
<br />
But nothing felt organic or right. It was goal-setting for the sake of having something to do. Not doing something out of passion. And it’s rather exhausting behavior, although also pretty amusing, in a Shakespearean character-study kind of way, when I step back and look at it.<br />
<br />
When you’re training, day in and day out, you pose to yourself the question, “What are you capable of?” And day in and day out, you can easily answer - with a workout, with attention to preparation, with the act of getting something done not because you always want to but because you committed to. Easy opportunities to prove yourself to yourself. But I'm finding that, out of season – without a map and a plan for these arms and oars – it’s much easier to get stuck drifting and to start poking holes in your own hull. <br />
<br />
I’ve recovered completely from The Race. No physical race hangover, not much mental fatigue. The soreness,the memory of soreness, and some memories of that day have ebbed away. I've worked hard for 15 months, and I've been fairly uncommitted to anything (aside from coaching) for the past 7 weeks. It feels like it’s time to come up with the next adventure. But without force. Time to get planning, but with patience. I don’t know what it will be - moving to the South Bay and settling in sounds like a good adventure every now and then. Not quite like running through the woods at night or swimming in the ocean, but it's a challenge to unseat my cling-to-the-familiar comfort I generally seek. Whatever it is, it will be a better use of time than me poking more holes and measuring my self-esteem by how much I'm not doing.<br />
<br />
Through the summer I'm committed to coaching folks to marathon finish lines in Seattle and San Diego, and also helping triathletes reach their summer and fall race goals. I'll return to Malibu for the <a href="http://www.trailrunevents.com/bd/">Bulldog 50k</a> in August, hopefully it's a little cooler than '09, but August in California makes no promises. October is a <a href="http://challenge-ranchocordova.com/">Half Ironman</a>, my first effort at that distance. Neither race will get the attention that I gave ultra. And that's okay by me. I have a whole ocean I've got to go explore. If you need me...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2MIh8ZzmXAIhguXOycovBLidch_I9LszQQUdbrK0Sx3kBsBvuCaHMfvuviNiHOhQjWwThmVOUBTwAKaEm4WYGG0nvARnhEV-N8hvRtzcw-LtPkab3Ql-10uAIZIOblC4pEcAMZXAsy4c/s1600/gone+finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2MIh8ZzmXAIhguXOycovBLidch_I9LszQQUdbrK0Sx3kBsBvuCaHMfvuviNiHOhQjWwThmVOUBTwAKaEm4WYGG0nvARnhEV-N8hvRtzcw-LtPkab3Ql-10uAIZIOblC4pEcAMZXAsy4c/s640/gone+finish.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-40449133950286701102014-02-05T17:42:00.000-08:002014-02-05T17:42:29.687-08:00Rocky Raccoon 100 Mile Trail Run - Race ReportThis is the story of what it was like for me to complete 100 miles at Rocky Raccoon. It was my first attempt at this distance, so I have no clue if any or all of this experience is considered 'normal'. But then again, we are talking about running 100 miles continuously, so any discussion of normalcy is moot.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://http://www.tejastrails.com/Rocky.html">Rocky Raccoon</a> is casually touted as one of the ‘easier’ 100 mile races in the country. The lack of overall elevation (5.6K over 100 miles) makes it more manageable for the non-mountain-goat ultra runners like myself. It’s a race that is extremely well-supported with crew and frequent aid stations. But it does possess a hell of a lot of hidden roots, temperature swing (72 to 36 last weekend) and 13+ hours of darkness. This year’s finishing rate (57%) was an all-time low. So, sure it’s no <a href="http://www.leadvilleraceseries.com/">Leadville </a>or <a href="http://www.wser.org/">WS </a>or <a href="http://www.tejastrails.com/CactusRose.html">Cactus Rose</a> ...but for a ‘beginner friendly’ course, it sure isn’t easy!<br />
<br />
The race is consisted of one 20-mile loop you had to run 5 times. 30 hours to complete. Saturday 6am to Sunday 12pm. It is an all-trail run through Huntsville State Park.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP8gUeqf0956sKN4Svg-7rCjkdcZtY8ObfqttYE8C4BmD3KNzyu9ZetwIiSmfDXB6A_69eBmyXFc_s5KqVdjoOKVBjVDmeGvMOkcoA8B4ZwFCi_FdOmp7OL6Q-rOA_Kqrx-97V56aS_N2R/s1600/RR+Map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP8gUeqf0956sKN4Svg-7rCjkdcZtY8ObfqttYE8C4BmD3KNzyu9ZetwIiSmfDXB6A_69eBmyXFc_s5KqVdjoOKVBjVDmeGvMOkcoA8B4ZwFCi_FdOmp7OL6Q-rOA_Kqrx-97V56aS_N2R/s640/RR+Map.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWGVAzjNkG_0v4rfOXsZStoNTvCSZL8MHd1UYUivrbXbVOjLhtIToLe4zodIv1E83YqdRsppVveV-j8s5q02i0nggNWu4zad1RmwZiHU0Zrc7O891Rnx9hhyphenhyphenXN-n9aKYsIysTpYjgNzrJx/s1600/PreRace_Parking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWGVAzjNkG_0v4rfOXsZStoNTvCSZL8MHd1UYUivrbXbVOjLhtIToLe4zodIv1E83YqdRsppVveV-j8s5q02i0nggNWu4zad1RmwZiHU0Zrc7O891Rnx9hhyphenhyphenXN-n9aKYsIysTpYjgNzrJx/s400/PreRace_Parking.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGHGmcA-pmLHws5ZtTgYvOQBjvSgEJYTt8R60LNN7bxJYOhON7ZqgKxdRjj0GTiUc3VHgGyZgNVuC1F9UmihmvgkRVhI-M6j70R3VOi_PQkukS8p7ylLUAlRdp_mMWGCxeDuMXzDISxCn7/s1600/PreRace_Shore2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGHGmcA-pmLHws5ZtTgYvOQBjvSgEJYTt8R60LNN7bxJYOhON7ZqgKxdRjj0GTiUc3VHgGyZgNVuC1F9UmihmvgkRVhI-M6j70R3VOi_PQkukS8p7ylLUAlRdp_mMWGCxeDuMXzDISxCn7/s400/PreRace_Shore2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqmT67ZlIniBbB_9Nsp41iSbvsvd9WTOHvgQE5_TQd4OaA6UQabURmeOPN64HdlInVCTEYzGknACb68YsMMBnmlLAmIN6_SPMYOBVHShyo1z0X2M0igTRPbdnhnUWQFtKjbuMu98hE63R6/s1600/PreRace_Shore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqmT67ZlIniBbB_9Nsp41iSbvsvd9WTOHvgQE5_TQd4OaA6UQabURmeOPN64HdlInVCTEYzGknACb68YsMMBnmlLAmIN6_SPMYOBVHShyo1z0X2M0igTRPbdnhnUWQFtKjbuMu98hE63R6/s400/PreRace_Shore.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwDNUnvXKGCkmsMTV_848fPNYE4yTRvoYH-UNeVVF7lcvzXU5XiqkFc4DxkKCoAj3aWrAnXQgCc9IXyP5698j0ex7EjL6dYU7SKCWM2KYU_Z7cfpvkSNO-ZGwlOzPfpUJDdPK-U2bhh72/s1600/PreRace_Trees+Again.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwDNUnvXKGCkmsMTV_848fPNYE4yTRvoYH-UNeVVF7lcvzXU5XiqkFc4DxkKCoAj3aWrAnXQgCc9IXyP5698j0ex7EjL6dYU7SKCWM2KYU_Z7cfpvkSNO-ZGwlOzPfpUJDdPK-U2bhh72/s400/PreRace_Trees+Again.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Huntsville State Park - Starting Line Area</center></i><br />
<br />
<b>My Crew</b><br />
<br />
We came to Texas on Thursday Jan 30. Me, <a href="http://www.twitter.com/hesort">Holly</a>, <a href="http://www.twitter.com/planetmort">Amy </a>and <a href="http://www.twitter.com/davesgottatri">Dave</a>. My coach, <a href="http://twitter.com/tritrainms">Jason</a>, would take a later flight over. Dave, Jason, Holly and Amy are all Ironman triathletes. They are all triathlon coaches. They are all good friends of mine. Jason and I have worked together before, and he <a href="http://tritrain.com/">has been coaching me</a> since September. He was the mind behind the training plan that got me through many months of running without injury or losing my mind. Dave is an army vet with decades of experience moving through the dark. He’s also a teacher. Amy is currently training for her first ultramarathon (<a href="http://leonadivide5050.com/">Leona Divide 50K</a> on April 26). She's a mother and works on things that travel through space to Mars and Jupiter (how cool!). Holly just finished up her own ultra-like event at the Goofy Challenge in January. She, more than anyone, knows what it took for me to get to this start line. They are first-rate athletes and friends. Kind, giving and full of determination. And they are all people that I knew I could shamelessly crumble in front of, if things got tough. Which they did. And I did.<br />
<br />
We spent Friday doing some gear shopping, grabbing my packet and visiting various restaurant chains around Huntsville, TX. Dave, Jason and I went for a 30min trail workout along the first 1.5 miles of the race in the morning, and surveyed the immense amounts of roots along the course. We noted how hidden they could be among the leaves, and that I'd really have to watch my footing. After the race briefing, we all had a simple dinner at Chili’s and called it an evening around 10pm.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9NZLyG49SCkatJQLrYQf2njwWTpdrBvqxLs1eJT67VuLs3dcrujrFiXzo0Z4L6nQ9AVihIOGe2Gua_NlGiG65Gq6eq8LJaeV_6fc5vQ-0RRpreK-stD_L1u2s8vEnHmqn8FrUvlR5CIO5/s1600/PreRace_Workout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9NZLyG49SCkatJQLrYQf2njwWTpdrBvqxLs1eJT67VuLs3dcrujrFiXzo0Z4L6nQ9AVihIOGe2Gua_NlGiG65Gq6eq8LJaeV_6fc5vQ-0RRpreK-stD_L1u2s8vEnHmqn8FrUvlR5CIO5/s400/PreRace_Workout.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Friday Workout</center></i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzjg_TXmQxxT0QUFr9vGKbecmBj5sqDr2bTd_7J2bE9WU3EG7xTow-3sncKNvr3yTKiQ1lSQITmr5Ol3EPug-bx2toDzkkkQymWNCBqca7d3fXo5FtqnLaR96UI9VtTloPDXjjp4icxbEf/s1600/PreRace_Lake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzjg_TXmQxxT0QUFr9vGKbecmBj5sqDr2bTd_7J2bE9WU3EG7xTow-3sncKNvr3yTKiQ1lSQITmr5Ol3EPug-bx2toDzkkkQymWNCBqca7d3fXo5FtqnLaR96UI9VtTloPDXjjp4icxbEf/s400/PreRace_Lake.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Jason, Me, Dave at the Trail Briefing Friday Afternoon</center></i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ8DlK-yDxMsQCbZimZaNUJbbeSdQRrCWtFGoNWm-W4OtrwB4J8TKQTGbHSVydFb-snEbDO5IR8VIkTmf14i0n1BeXguBGdcPFM57_Er6ENkM5exRCletlZXKS9WVRN68HXo42HNZpUl4f/s1600/PreRace_Meeting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ8DlK-yDxMsQCbZimZaNUJbbeSdQRrCWtFGoNWm-W4OtrwB4J8TKQTGbHSVydFb-snEbDO5IR8VIkTmf14i0n1BeXguBGdcPFM57_Er6ENkM5exRCletlZXKS9WVRN68HXo42HNZpUl4f/s400/PreRace_Meeting.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Wearing my <a href="http://www.inknburn.com/">Ink n Burn</a> No-Pants Pants and goofing around in the park</center></i><br />
<br />
<b>Pre-Race</b><br />
<br />
Saturday morning, Jason and I set our alarms for 3:45am in order to get into the park and snag a good parking space. I ate three waffles with peanut butter and had 2 cups of coffee – the last caffeine I’d allow myself to have until darkness fell at 6pm Saturday night. This was a strategic choice, hoping that introducing caffeine after many hours of running without it would help me stay awake and alert through the night. I’d done some night running, but never completely from sundown to sun up, so any little boost that could help me through was welcome.<br />
<br />
We arrived with a little over an hour to start. We stayed in the car and relaxed, listening to music and reclining back. It was at this point that I released all my fear about the race, about finishing, and about the pain I knew I’d go through. I signed up for this race because I had become complacent with my training – nothing scared me. This challenge scared me. It scared me into completing every single workout for six months. It raked me across exhaustion and scraped up my soul. It pushed me to be more committed and focused than I thought I could ever be. <br />
<br />
And here I was – at the end goal of my training: the starting line. I took a sharpie and wrote two things on my arm:<br />
<br />
<i>Believe </i>– on my left forearm<br />
<i>The Fighter Still Remains</i> – on the top of my left hand<br />
<br />
With about 20 minutes until the start, we headed to the tent. No corrals in ultra running. 500 or so runners packed in. Darkness broken by generator-powered camping lights. Lots of chatter and milling. It was close to 60 degrees and humidity was noticeable. Throughout the day the temps would climb into the 70’s with almost 80% humidity. The downfall of many racers, as my crew would see.<br />
<br />
We didn’t notice a gunshot or any other flag to start the race. At 6:00am, people just started moving. I gave Jason a hug and a wave and I off I went.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYHY7nsu16s1VABzeDFYPGqudqxuchyphenhyphen_6OaKsLaU0iJOfJSM9doGfk5G9NZ_-UHk5GyNenavOxZHC7mVj0p516iJFDKpmHGnm_juUoIELy92v5Nf5YuMcR-SsU-BRcxolMsllAdGFy5kQw/s1600/Loop1_Start+Line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYHY7nsu16s1VABzeDFYPGqudqxuchyphenhyphen_6OaKsLaU0iJOfJSM9doGfk5G9NZ_-UHk5GyNenavOxZHC7mVj0p516iJFDKpmHGnm_juUoIELy92v5Nf5YuMcR-SsU-BRcxolMsllAdGFy5kQw/s400/Loop1_Start+Line.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Time to Go!</center></i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Loop 1 (Miles 0 – 20)</b><br />
<br />
We were a giant pack of runners, and snaked down a narrow path into the dark. There were so many people that I didn’t need to turn on my own head lights (clipped to my visor), I mooched off of other runners' lights. The first two miles were basically a walk. I took note of the roots as we rolled up and down the small dirt inclines. They were roots EVERYWHERE. I rolled my ankle very early, though very lightly and it stressed me for a moment. But the pain went away quickly. I kicked a few roots, along with everyone else. We were all just trying to watch our steps.<br />
<br />
It was 3.1 miles to the first aid station, Nature Center. I knew Jason would be waiting there for me. It was still dark when I arrived. He checked that I’d been drinking enough and reminded me to keep on my plan – the humidity was going to be something to deal with. I think I grabbed a quarter of a PBJ sandwich and headed out.<br />
<br />
From this point on and for the next 27 hours, almost without fail, I would eat something every 20-30 minutes. PBJ, goldfish, PB crackers, potatoes, Ramen, chocolate, ginger, pureed fruit, espresso chips, coffee or soda. I’d drink 1 bottle of <a href="https://osmonutrition.com/">Osmo Nutrition</a> (electrolyte drink) every 10 miles, and another 3-4 bottles during the rest of the loop. I’d trained by using Osmo and water for hydration and eating “real food” (no gels, Gatorade, CarboPro, sports bars) for the past six months and it worked really well. I never had any gastric distress or sour stomach. No projectile nothing! In fact, my nutrition and hydration plan – pushed on me by my crew in the later hours – was the key to my finishing. I stayed coherent the entire race because of it.<br />
<br />
The dawn broke before I made it the next 3.1 miles to the second aid station, Damnation. The trail between Nature and Damn was also rolling and rooted. There were very few truly fast, flat seconds to run along. The only relief from all of the roots was about 15 mini-bridge crossings (wooded bridges over mud and creeks). So onward I plodded at a steady pace, maintaining an 8-1 interval and walking some of the more pronounced climbs.<br />
<br />
At mile 5, just before the station, I tweaked my left ankle on a root. My achilles – the one that had plagued me this summer but had seemingly healed - became cranky quickly. And a very dreaded thought crossed my mind – I have to feel this for the next 95 miles. Oh shit. <br />
<br />
Ah, the first low moment of the day, only 5 miles in! I made two mental mistakes in that moment: I assumed that the pain will last forever, and I thought about the entire race. This caused frustration (what am I doing here?!) and fear (I cannot tolerate this, I’m not strong enough). <br />
<br />
A week prior to the race I had a good talk with my friend Rob, who had completed <a href="http://www.tahoemtnmilers.org/trt-endurance-runs.html">Tahoe Rim Trail 100</a> over the summer. He was dealt some amazingly difficult moments, but powered through against it all and claimed a belt buckle. One piece of advice he gave to me that was crucial throughout my day, was never to think about the finish line until it was time to think about the finish line. All I had to think about was moving from aid station to aid station. And since no station was farther than 6 miles at any give time, I could take the entire 100 miles in tiny bites. As I would talk to myself through the day, “You can eat an elephant one bite at a time." Chomp chomp chomp.<br />
<br />
Remembering Rob’s words, I slowed my mental spiral and focused on the last mile to Damnation. <br />
<br />
I also looked my arm and what I’d written. I started singing the Paul Simon lyrics over and over again:<br />
<blockquote><i><br />
In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade<br />
And he carries the reminder of every glove that laid him down and cut him ‘till he cried out<br />
In his anger and his shame, ‘I am leaving, I am leaving’<br />
But <b>the fighter still remains</b></i></blockquote><br />
Damnation Station (Mile 6.2). Aptly named. This was an aid station where I could have a drop bag, though crews were not allowed here until later in the race. I was thrilled to see it about ½ mile away, and trotted in to find my bag. Grabbed some PB crackers, topped off my bottle and got running again. From Damnation, we would cover a 6-mile loop that would bring us right back to this point (mile 12.2). It is the longest section of the course without support. I felt at this point the 6 miles were very manageable for me to take on.<br />
<br />
The 6 miles provided long, low-grade ascents followed by long, low-grade descents. Rolling but not steep. And of course, Roots! Approximately three miles out, right near the edge of Raven Lake, the trail made a sweeping U-turn and we headed back. At mile 11 of the race (which was mile 5 of this 6-mile loop), the trail led us out of the woods to an open space right alongside the lake. This 0.3-mile section would become extremely important for me as 1) it had not one root! and 2) you could SEE THE FINISH LINE across the lake. What a mind trap! I saw on my watch I was at mile 11 and thought to myself – in 90 more miles you are going to be really happy to be here. Yeah, that was wishful thinking...and ultimately very inaccurate.<br />
<br />
I arrived back at Damnation (mile 12.2 total) and refilled my bottle with Osmo, took a salt pill and ate a little. From here, I’d run 3.4 miles to Park Road where I knew my crew would be waiting for me. I felt motivated and excited to see them all. Along the way I chatted with a nice man named Larry who was also doing his first 100 miler. He’d done Leadville marathon and a handful of other 50s. We talked about ultra and triathlon. I got him interested in Ironman by saying that, for me, it was easier on the body than a 50-mile race. Talking passed the time and suddenly I was running into Park Road. I was getting psyched to see my crew. And there they were: Cheeseheads. (My nickname is Cheese).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgASUQgMWgwGrgNmh2xCYxwh4eCe5dI6yiGI-jJ3zhM7rLJpmu98x9tQkf0LO3MKahDsnXW3yHFWnn5Y0FMvHiIp_zaig6JJkBg8xA4n28cxUZnDQKrCcGDQ5LVU3-RXEn3DbR989dFxlsm/s1600/Loop1_Cheeseheads.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgASUQgMWgwGrgNmh2xCYxwh4eCe5dI6yiGI-jJ3zhM7rLJpmu98x9tQkf0LO3MKahDsnXW3yHFWnn5Y0FMvHiIp_zaig6JJkBg8xA4n28cxUZnDQKrCcGDQ5LVU3-RXEn3DbR989dFxlsm/s640/Loop1_Cheeseheads.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Jason, Dave, Amy, Holly. My friends are crazy</center></i><br />
<br />
It was fantastic! I received some high fives and some pointed questions from them – have you eaten, are you hydrated, how are your socks and shoes? I reported my twisted ankles and kicked roots, but nothing else was off. Dave reminded me of the humidity and to stay on my hydration. I told them I had an extra bottle stashed at Damnation, and I would carry that (in addition to my vest bottle) for the 6-miler because I was drinking like a fish. I hadn’t needed a bathroom yet, which was cause for some concern. But we wrote it off to humidity and just monitored for the next few hours.<br />
<br />
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<br />
I was wished well and started my way back to Dogwood aka Home Base – the start and end of each loop. Like other parts of the course, there were portions where we double backed, meaning we were running backwards on sections we ran out on. This allowed us to see people who were starting their second loop. Mentally it was a great boost to cheer them on. Every runner that came at me I made eye contact, smiled big and said something like “Good work” or “Looking strong”. It’s amazing how a few words can make someone smile and add pep to their step. And so early in the race, it was very well received.<br />
<br />
I came into Dogwood with my crew cheering me in. I felt good – 20 mile runs have been the bread and butter of my training schedule, so it felt fairly easy. I’d thought I’d gone slower than 4:15, and was happy to see I was ahead of what I predicted while still feeling like I had held back and stayed steady.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_NHxKkTHNKOnioouZ79cfGQLJK4yGj5HFt6kydQ1DLcT-78FusOuLEuXYmWG4X_IUxN-IRsi8SS0nmHXgM3P5fMdDuwPAwCuC4CjIOCbQC2cmMdJaHPxRMn9ysr5E-Pv_AfFGMhv4O2W/s1600/Loop1_Done.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_NHxKkTHNKOnioouZ79cfGQLJK4yGj5HFt6kydQ1DLcT-78FusOuLEuXYmWG4X_IUxN-IRsi8SS0nmHXgM3P5fMdDuwPAwCuC4CjIOCbQC2cmMdJaHPxRMn9ysr5E-Pv_AfFGMhv4O2W/s400/Loop1_Done.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>One Down</center></i><br />
<br />
No change of clothes or shoes. Just a bag of potatoes to eat and pack away for the next few miles. Jason grabbed a sharpie and wrote “YES I CAN” on my right arm. I touched up the word BELIEVE on my left. The crew wished me well again and assured me we’d all meet up at Nature Center.<br />
<b><br />
Total Time</b>: 4:15:55<br />
<b>Time of Day</b>: 6am – 10:15am<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Loop 2 (Miles 20-40)</b><br />
<br />
I had the wonderful realization that until I’d have pacers, 40 miles from now, they would all go to all of the aid stations (Dogwood, Nature Center and Park Road). Just another reason to focus on moving mile-by-mile to see them, and forget about the giant stretch of time still to go.<br />
<br />
Around mile 25 I chatted with a man from Milwaukee who was on his 7th RR100. Wow! He was very encouraging. He let me know that one year, he’d fallen bad around mile 26 and had to walk the remainder of the race – and he still finished under 30hrs! So I told myself that every mile I get past 26 without taking a digger and hurting myself made my chances of finishing that much greater.<br />
<br />
There were some low moments once again. My brains started to get bored of its own thoughts. The trail all looked the same, and I felt a little disoriented. It was so clearly marked, though, that getting lost wasn't ever an issue. Along this loop, I rolled my ankle twice more and almost fell on some roots twice. I kept downing peanut butter sandwiches, peanut butter pretzels and peanut butter crackers. Palate fatigue settled in around the 6-hour mark. But sandwiches, crackers and potatoes kept working, so I grudgingly ate them. I carried the extra bottle for the 6-mile Damnation loop, and because it didn’t have a hand strap, I had to grip it. Probably lost some energy I could have conserved by bringing my handhelds, but no matter. And finally along this loop, I peed! Seriously a cause for celebration – my kidneys were working, my hydration was on track, and I no longer had to worry I was digging myself into a dehydrated hole.<br />
<br />
I’d spent a lot of time in my own head, and there was still another whole day to go. But one of the greatest things Jason made me do during training was to run alone, without music. To get comfortable in my own head with my own thoughts and nothing else to distract me from the inevitable pain and soreness that comes with this challenge. It was around now that the pain and soreness began to creep into my joints – primarily my hips. I walked a little more, but kept steady. There were many moments where I called upon this discipline of keeping focused and staying on task even when I started to ache.<br />
<br />
Back to Park Road (mile 35.6) I met Holly, Jason, Dave and Amy. No longer cheddarheads, but still amazing helpers. I became very concerned that I didn’t have my clip lights and that the sun was about to set. I didn’t realize it was only about 1:30pm and the cloud cover was confusing me. Jason told me it was still early and I didn’t have to worry. I did the quick math - Wow, I've been running for 7 hours? Not bad, I feel all right.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkDGZoiM5-qwqv0ZxLWUyjDjV01PmZRqwFD6IO_RnqKOw5UWt_Q7norKc-vcsEfAunfmXWqopNg_JvIv9s82MIA8F5k4FFh3h5I_v9oFf_GIQjjN933iGXN7oG13ZALuTSl2tMffgjpVse/s1600/Loop2_Park354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkDGZoiM5-qwqv0ZxLWUyjDjV01PmZRqwFD6IO_RnqKOw5UWt_Q7norKc-vcsEfAunfmXWqopNg_JvIv9s82MIA8F5k4FFh3h5I_v9oFf_GIQjjN933iGXN7oG13ZALuTSl2tMffgjpVse/s400/Loop2_Park354.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Good Spirits at 35</center></i><br />
<br />
This was another strategy I used all day – I never once looked at the time of day or race clock on my watch. I kept myself ignorant to that as much as I could so I wouldn’t become focused on the big picture. My Garmin read my heart rate and mileage only.<br />
<br />
They filled my bottle, grabbed me some grapes, promised to meet me back at Dogwood, 4.4 miles from here. <br />
<br />
A while later I came into Dogwood to see Amy and Jason cheering for me, and Holly decked out in her Luigi costume. She skipped down the straightaway with me and I was laughing – which hurt! It was a great boost for my tired-of-thinking brain. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Ke5i-FNCoPMGLr1607m96JI_znT47P-zX54CrUZB7xRgM9P8mn4Q0WWvqrgrZPtb1oSEpdf6PXPwYs2w5DfZ2toXNEzK7LY9-WQjjrqqW5t47StbSGxZHdIO3-OmW_1j2OKshWD-RKZj/s1600/Loop2_Luigi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Ke5i-FNCoPMGLr1607m96JI_znT47P-zX54CrUZB7xRgM9P8mn4Q0WWvqrgrZPtb1oSEpdf6PXPwYs2w5DfZ2toXNEzK7LY9-WQjjrqqW5t47StbSGxZHdIO3-OmW_1j2OKshWD-RKZj/s400/Loop2_Luigi.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Holly even made the online race photo gallery</center></i><br />
<br />
This was the start of my final loop without pacers. I knew I could do another 20 miles, albeit a little slower with 40 miles on my legs. I knew that sundown was coming at some point on this loop, so I had my crew load up pack with my<a href="http://gomotiongear.com/shop/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=11"> GoMotion Chest Light</a>, two visor clip lights and a long sleeve shirt. The temps were still in the 60s and 70s (high was 72 that day), so I didn’t anticipate needing the layers, but better safe than not.<br />
<br />
I also asked them to give me my ipod at Nature Center. I’d go 3.1 miles from Dogwood to there, and then get to listen to music (sanctioned by race directors, so totally allowed). They did another nutrition/hydration/apparel/mood check and cheered me on as I headed back out once again.<br />
<br />
<b>Total Time</b>: 4:26:08<br />
<b>Time of Day</b>: 10:15am – 2:45 pm<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Loop 3 (Miles 40 – 60)</b><br />
<br />
Dave was at Nature Center and handed me my ipod, checked my state and sent me into the woods. Music was a GAME CHANGER! Listening to music for the first time in 43.1 miles! Wow! It got me moving ...well, as fast as one can go after 43.1 miles. I was so jazzed at having my music, I no longer dreaded the next 12 miles I’d have to cover before seeing my crew. JT, Pink, Dan and the Wildfires, One Republic, Garth Brooks, David Guetta and all sorts of good tunes! <br />
<br />
I was feeling really good heading into Damnation (from Nature Center), so good that I thought I might be hallucinating – because Holly was standing there at my drop bag. Surprise! She’d hiked out there to help me out. We filled my bottled, got some food (stopped her from eating a hot dog quesadilla that may have had her sh**ing on my shoes later on ... she has some allergies) and she reminded me that the next time I saw her (after finishing the loop), I’d have run farther than I’d ever had before – 52.2 miles.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE1LWwOzSvibDg5yvv-Xnva_Jmwo-GtqICw1Y48_yG6cA7replVUj7ctRrUQCcxOij5cRBRodffrQTw6kr-fRdGRWldjiOD2t8LaXysspyM6a-V5gw4CIr_PemRkT7guYR1S3ih3brPuLi/s1600/Loop3_Damn46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE1LWwOzSvibDg5yvv-Xnva_Jmwo-GtqICw1Y48_yG6cA7replVUj7ctRrUQCcxOij5cRBRodffrQTw6kr-fRdGRWldjiOD2t8LaXysspyM6a-V5gw4CIr_PemRkT7guYR1S3ih3brPuLi/s320/Loop3_Damn46.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Mile 46, smiling because I have music</center></i><br />
<br />
I don’t recall much of that loop other than hitting mile 50 and thinking, “Well, we’re counting down from here.” By now my hips were cranky, the bottoms of my feet were getting tired, and my lower back started to ache. I was somewhere in the 11 or 12-hour mark, and I’d started walking much, much more. The thing about this race distance is that it wears you down to a level of exhaustion and vulnerability that you really can’t recreate well during training - not unless you sign up for a 50M or a 100K race as practice. Which I hadn't. So, it just hurts, and you have to face the pain, make friends with it, and keep going. As Macca and Dave say, "Embrace the Suck".<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX3cb3v1f2axvjD27TWwFwFyp_7n8ntzxdsdHvjX7yduZBCbFt05taduiRwrFjZjrjtfggccxlaKFl56rBmiBig2pp_Ey4TFl_SQ-Rw4uvc_BBrU_Avum8r2jsSYUujqm0-5tOWSS45UgH/s1600/Loop3_Damn52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX3cb3v1f2axvjD27TWwFwFyp_7n8ntzxdsdHvjX7yduZBCbFt05taduiRwrFjZjrjtfggccxlaKFl56rBmiBig2pp_Ey4TFl_SQ-Rw4uvc_BBrU_Avum8r2jsSYUujqm0-5tOWSS45UgH/s320/Loop3_Damn52.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Mile 52, smiling in order to Embrace the Suck</center></i><br />
<br />
I returned to Damnation where I got my first soda of the day – caffeine free ginger ale. Yum! A good treat for my mind and body. As we walked out of the station I asked Holly if I needed to put on my chest light. She looked at the time and said I should – meaning the sun is going down shortly.<br />
<br />
Two things happened in this moment – I realized I had just run from sunrise to sunset, and I realized I’d now begin the remainder of the race, the part where it’s completely dark all night, 12+ hours in a row. It freaked me out a little, but again I switched my focus to getting to Park Rd, and the gratitude I had for getting company along the way. I’d starting telling her about my aches, pains and that I was freaked out that I’d run for so many hours. She continued to encourage me, as she and the rest of the crew would for the remainder of the race.<br />
<br />
Jason was at Park Road (I think Amy and Dave were taking naps, I can’t recall), and Holly stopped there. Jason switched out my Garmin for a new one, and we reset my interval to a 3-1. I was hurting at this point and needed to walk more. I also took off my heart rate monitor at this point because fatigue will render it high and I just had to keep going at my slow and steady pace. Jason made me promise that I’d treat the interval like a coach, and stick to 3mins of running if I could. It was dark now, and all of those roots along the course seemed to grow and grab you. But I left Park (4.4 miles until pacers!) and moved steadily through the forest.<br />
<br />
I arrived at Dogwood feeling pretty good, all things considered and 60 miles down. Joked around a bit with Amy, Jason and Holly. I had two loops left – I was closer to the finish line than I was to the start line. And I got to have a pacer with me for the rest of the way! I assumed that mentally, the hardest part was behind me because now I had company!<br />
<br />
That was completely wrong.<br />
<br />
<b>Total Time</b>: 5:14:45<br />
<b>Time of Day</b>: 2:45pm – 8:00pm<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Loop 4 (Miles 60 – 80)</b><br />
First up to pace was Amy. She covered miles 60-63.1 with me. We talked about how the forest looked like Connecticut (we both grew up there), about diet and exercise and personal training, and about anything else that flitted through my mind. She was encouraging and patient as I moved slowly and walked a lot. By now my feet were very sore. The bottoms of them aches and I started to have noticeable pains shoot through the bones in my legs. Bone pain is the worst – it’s not muscular, it feels so much deeper, like someone is injecting your skeleton with hot lead. Ouch.<br />
<br />
After three miles we saw the Nature Center lights. Waiting for me there was Jason, Holly and Dave, who would escort me from 63.4 to 75.6. There was a bathroom there so I hopped inside. I told them if I wasn't out in 10 minutes it wasn't a stomach issue, it was because I couldn't stand up. So come and get me. Really, ever time I stopped at an aid station, from here on out, my muscles would stiffen quickly. Starting up was a small fight. But with the help of some coffee and food, I’d get on my way. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg37_ezH15PLnSwQohaJPwAmVpAENGHm_5LR8vKQIccLOvyWhou6_24JGsNCmIchq3LdqztidvdWCx32CagpGzbI_XoXLXm66bK2l8kU_M0wqVliEI84N08lLO-d-ZjbRnKWc1_N_JXYlyy/s1600/Loop4_Nature+to+Damn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg37_ezH15PLnSwQohaJPwAmVpAENGHm_5LR8vKQIccLOvyWhou6_24JGsNCmIchq3LdqztidvdWCx32CagpGzbI_XoXLXm66bK2l8kU_M0wqVliEI84N08lLO-d-ZjbRnKWc1_N_JXYlyy/s320/Loop4_Nature+to+Damn.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Dave and I getting ready to head to out from Mile 63</center></i><br />
<br />
From this mile on, I could barely run. I would end up walking 90% of the rest of the way, with only a few spurts of running in between powerwalking or death marching.<br />
<br />
Dave took me through the woods slowly and carefully. My exhaustion started to show. I could see and could understand what I was doing, but I just wanted to sleep. He shined his light on the ground right beside me and called out every single root in our way. In fact, this became the conversation for about 3 hours:<br />
<br />
Dave: Root<br />
Me: ‘kay<br />
Dave: Root<br />
Me: ‘kay<br />
Dave: Step up<br />
Me: ‘kay<br />
Dave: Root<br />
Me: Owwwwww.<br />
Dave: Step Down<br />
Me: ‘kay. Owwwww.<br />
<br />
I’d been up since 3:45am. It was somewhere around 11pm and the effects of sleep deprivation bodyslammed me. My voice became a whisper. My hips all-but-refused to let me step up or step down along the technical parts of the trail. And my mind began to drift away from my tiny goals (Get to the aid station) and spotlight the big ones (I have to do another loop after this!?!?)<br />
<br />
“Dave, I’ve lost the ability to control my drool.” <br />
<br />
It was true. Spit was running down my face and I didn’t care. I couldn’t purse my lips to keep it in. I’d wipe my chin every few minutes. And then, somewhere during the Damnation Loop, the tears started. I was so tired. I was hurting so much. And we were walking so slow. I could not fathom doing another 30-35 miles. The weight of that challenge sat on my heart. I half-heartedly attempted to hold back my tears but I was becoming so tired that I didn’t care. So we walked, and I cried. For about 2.5 hours. I’d groan and whimper, “Ouch” and “It hurts so much” and “I’m so tired.” I would mumble in desperation, “I’m doing the best that I can” and ask “Am I the only one who is in pain?” And then I’d cry some more. Dave was great. He’d put his hand on my back and reassure me that I’m not the only one suffering out here, and that I was doing great. At one point he said, “Em, it’s not a matter of <i>if</i> you finish, but <i>when </i>you will finish.” He distracted me from myself by telling me stories from Ranger School and his own sleep deprivation suffering. It was comforting as it could be. But the pain was still there.<br />
<br />
I had the emotional stability of a teething toddler. My mood swings would continue in a drastic manner. At one low point, I pulled over to a log (there were no restrooms in the woods), and after I was done, I hopped up, told Dave I maybe had some tree in my shorts. And the I began to run. Not walk, but run! I was – for a few minutes – a new person. Bathroom breaks and coffee/soda would pick me up out of my despair, and then 20 minutes later I’d be back down that black hole again.<br />
<br />
We finished the 6-mile Damnation loop and Dave made the excellent decision to change my socks and shoe. Just the left shoe. I kicked a root and tore the top of my first pair. So we swapped out the torn one with a lefty from my drop bag. He also put on my socks for me and checked my feet for blisters – none so far. The one mistake I did make here, though, was switching from compression socks to regular socks. At this point I’d gone 72.2 miles. When I took off the compression, my right knee began to swell just enough to make bending my knee pretty painful and barely possible. Luckily with my exhausted walking form I was able to move forward despite this limitation.<br />
<br />
We trudged from Damnation to Park, 3.4 miles away. Because of the roots, I had to stay extremely focused (in my sad state) on the ground. Which meant I could not turn my neck / head lights away from exactly in front of me. My neck stayed in this stiff position pretty much until sun up. This was not happy-making in the least. Also, I’d developed a touchable knot in my right shoulder blade from carrying my water bottle on one side of my vest. My crew would work on it for me at the aid stations, but mother of all pain it was a bad one!<br />
<br />
Along our way to Park, I saw a frog. This frog became the greatest thing ever. “Dave! A frog!” We stopped mid-walk. I leaned down and petted it. It jumped at me and I laughed. Like I said, I was loopy. Never incoherent, but definitely out of it.<br />
<br />
Since sundown, I’d started taking caffeine regularly. The temps had dropped to the 50s, so I wasn’t sweating a lot. And I was drinking soup and Osmo and water and coffee. Caffeine is a diuretic, so all of a sudden, every 20 minutes for the rest of the race, I was in need of a log, or a bush, or as the case became, the middle of the trail with no privacy needed. I’d drop my shorts without much of a thought, pee and move on.<br />
<br />
During our long walk to Park, I needed to go again. I knew there were port-a-johns close by so I decided to wait. I knew they were located at a turn on the trail that butted up against the road. You could see cars driving by and street lights. I pointed them out in the distance to Dave and excitedly began to powerwalk faster. I also remarked that I was running like a clubbed seal. Which was accurate.<br />
<br />
When we “got there” … there was no lights. No road. No cars. I whined: “Dave, where are they??! They were here! I saw the lights and the cars! Where did they go! Did you see them? You saw them, right?” We were in complete darkness, it was around 1am. And my brain might have convinced me I had seen something that wasn’t quite there. Dave, probably with a lot of empathy said, “I can neither confirm or deny.” In other word, you were seeing things.<br />
<br />
About a mile later, when we finally found the bathrooms – farther away than I’d thought – I hopped in and took care of everything. Then I hopped out and said to Dave, “There was a pretzel on the floor. I didn’t eat it.” I was proud of myself. He thought I'd lost it.<br />
<br />
We continued walking.<br />
<br />
The crew met me and Dave at Park, where I was handed off to Holly. She’d take me through the woods back to Dogwood. Dave had made me promise that when I was with her I’d do a little running, but by the time we got to Park, it was clear I was in no shape to do anything other than keep moving forward as best as possible.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdaGPc4NeUN6d7XEr1caFS8Hd4o_k9eg_yI-8ao7LTI-3aN7qVQv7_Tr2UcOfz5nVRUJBnRRD7CVMPe5k37sKA4BLahpwBvshUwJnCdmn3eC2HoOJ1iZLFVq5ITao0AK1eaR_se5qVD1Tx/s1600/Loop4_Panda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdaGPc4NeUN6d7XEr1caFS8Hd4o_k9eg_yI-8ao7LTI-3aN7qVQv7_Tr2UcOfz5nVRUJBnRRD7CVMPe5k37sKA4BLahpwBvshUwJnCdmn3eC2HoOJ1iZLFVq5ITao0AK1eaR_se5qVD1Tx/s400/Loop4_Panda.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Holly, Me and Captain Panda, whose crewing role was equally as crucial as the non-pandas who helped</center></i><br />
<br />
Holly recalls this portion of the race as the rock bottom. It took us over 2 hours to go 4.4 miles. My emotions were labile and shifted with full, violent swinging. I’d go from hilarity to deep, deep sadness. I whined. I groaned. I cried. I became fixated on the sun – “I just want to see the sun. Why won’t it rise. I can’t make it in the dark. I can’t do another loop. Owwww. It hurts. It hurts so much.” When I realized I’d been awake for more than 23 hours and covered almost 80 miles, I almost lost it – those facts were too much for me to handle.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrgd7FcWfC15OB85URfAikwsoY59xnPAFlmS8nZsur_7k3aDBBt_fkW8Gq389Yh_pKrqU6MeDSjlnv2a1tp6jyG8Wex-0npqg46cAS0BziEW76R57ovysr0yGJbHErC3kTkizhVGiV6RBh/s1600/Loop4_Park+to+Dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrgd7FcWfC15OB85URfAikwsoY59xnPAFlmS8nZsur_7k3aDBBt_fkW8Gq389Yh_pKrqU6MeDSjlnv2a1tp6jyG8Wex-0npqg46cAS0BziEW76R57ovysr0yGJbHErC3kTkizhVGiV6RBh/s400/Loop4_Park+to+Dog.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Was Dante an ultramarathoner? I think he wrote about this moment in <i>Inferno</i></center></i><br />
<br />
Holly patiently wait for me to step up or down or around all those damn roots. She walked alongside me and tried to work the knot out of my back. I cried and cried and I kept moving forward. She kept me moving forward. When I said for the 100th time that I couldn’t face the thought of one more loop, she told me all we had to do was get to Dogwood and then we would “Reset”. I held onto that hope, that the tides would change. And I slumped on.<br />
<br />
My body hurting in ways I’d never hurt before – my hips screamed, my feet screamed, my back screamed. I didn’t believe I’d ever feel normal again. My mind was in a little twisted torture room of its own. And yet, despite all of that physical and mental anguish, quitting never crossed my mind. I was worried about continuing through the pain, but I never wanted to leave the race. I wanted to take a nap so very badly, but I never wanted to give up. Not once.<br />
<br />
Back at Dogwood, Amy and Jason knew I was in dire straits. They sent out a Facebook SOS for good vibes for me. Holly and I arrived and I immediately got into a chair. All hands on deck. They swapped out my vest (taking pressure off my shoulder), changed my socks (ultimately resulting in two blisters but no big deal), put on me a long sleeve shirt, got some coffee and chocolate in me, and got 2 Tylenol to dull the pain. Jason handed me the pills and promised they would take the edge off for 8 hours. I believed him because I had to. Because I needed to hear that the pain would subside. That was the only way I could get myself out of the chair and off on the final loop.<br />
<br />
With new gear, some warm liquids and my crew taking extremely good care of me, my sense of humor returned. I accidentally dropped my salt pill in my soup, and then laughed when I found it at the bottom when I finished drinking it. Just like the toy in a box of cereal! <br />
<br />
We began the walk away from Dogwood and onto the final loop. Amy, Holly, Jason and me. Final Lap.<br />
<br />
<b>Total Time</b>: 6:31:18<br />
<b>Time of Day</b>: 8:00pm – 2:30am<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Loop 5 (80-100)</b><br />
<br />
I’d love to say things picked up from here. Well, they did, but not for long. I was a little more cheerful and poking fun at my crew, “You know, out here, we call you guys ‘normies’.” I was later told by Jason that I (not they) completely missed the poor man who was projectile ... “stomach aching” ... on a tree right next to the trail as we went by. Not sorry I missed that. Poor guy.<br />
<br />
We got to Nature Center, mile 83.1 and it was noticeable colder. Jason grabbed an extra jacket that I would wear. It was kind of see-through so at one point I zipped it up, and with my chest light still glowing, said, “ET Phone Home…” I laughed, and then probably started crying five minutes later. I went to the bathroom (a real one) there, but did not want to leave it. There was light, there were tiles, there was running water and I could rest for just a moment. That bathroom was the happiest place I’d been all night. It wasn’t dark! It wasn’t cold! But I had to come out and keep going.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7IjD3ANx11Cn-Kwsjte8KnxQ904euI_GpSXnwcgc2IbVtMyuiq_jPOzF2jArOUDZB0xrdRfNs-hnXJW_qIzQMhWT984haegE38OmUeSHCWGfXDB5vvB-nEdS6-kdV6JZQ-XXhZWDu6NW4/s1600/Loop5_Massage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7IjD3ANx11Cn-Kwsjte8KnxQ904euI_GpSXnwcgc2IbVtMyuiq_jPOzF2jArOUDZB0xrdRfNs-hnXJW_qIzQMhWT984haegE38OmUeSHCWGfXDB5vvB-nEdS6-kdV6JZQ-XXhZWDu6NW4/s400/Loop5_Massage.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Working on my shoulder knot</center></i><br />
<br />
Jason and I continued from 83.1 to 95.4 in quiet fashion. The humor I'd had for those three previous miles was gone. He tried to get me to talk, but I could not. I could barely whisper. All I could think about was the sun coming up, though I had no idea what time it was or when it would happen. All I saw was darkness, and Jason five steps ahead of me. I’d moan at him to slow down, and he would. But then he’d walk again and I couldn’t get myself to keep up. This tug of pace-war continued for 9 miles. My bladder had not calmed so I was dropping my shorts frequently. I no longer cared if I was behind a bush. I no longer felt much of anything, just hollow. I'd run the gamut of emotions all night and was running out of things to feel, other than pain.<br />
<br />
When we arrived at Damnation Jason brought me to the heat lamp and fed me some coffee and soup. I put on a wind/rain jacket of my own. Then we began the final 6-mile loop out to the lake and back. I wanted to get to the lake – it was mile 91 and the point of the race that I had thought about almost a day ago at mile 11. I thought it would be a great mental relief.<br />
<br />
It wasn’t a heaving sigh of appeasement, but when we got there – after I peed again and basically mooned one of the boats driving by – I knew we were close to finishing the Damn loop and only 7.8 miles away from the finish line. The sun finally started to lighten the sky. We could see outlines of trees. It was easier to avoid the roots. And it hit me that I had just gone from Sunrise to Sundown to Sunrise again .... and I was still going. This was a confusing, heartening, scary, weird thought. I didn't have too much time to dwell though.<br />
<br />
Because the rain started.<br />
<br />
Light at first, but then harder and colder. We got back to Damnation and someone said it was 45 degrees with a wind chill of 42. Jason gave me gloves to stay warm and he put some pants on me. But there was no staying warm. A lot of the racers were huddled in the tent at Damn. I saw more than a few pack up and hitch a ride back, call it a day. Despite the worsening weather, I never thought to join them.<br />
<br />
Jason brought me into Park Road after what seemed to be an eternity. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t keep my head high up. I barely looked at my crew waiting for me. I went right to a chair and held out my bottle for a refill. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ksxZ4weOxEweLvH2hPDxL0_7SszPl5R_HAUz0DK8P9cFmcmuiAhiVIBrlezBP2_OlffQpx65zt71ayiJ3OVpZeDW8y7XhMxPBaIFxQ47cZJ5GtZR8SoMRM_l-iB7HhxlsoAu6nUGsXNU/s1600/Loop5_Park+Station.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ksxZ4weOxEweLvH2hPDxL0_7SszPl5R_HAUz0DK8P9cFmcmuiAhiVIBrlezBP2_OlffQpx65zt71ayiJ3OVpZeDW8y7XhMxPBaIFxQ47cZJ5GtZR8SoMRM_l-iB7HhxlsoAu6nUGsXNU/s400/Loop5_Park+Station.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>My Legs Don't Happy</center></i><br />
<br />
Amy handed me some soup and I drank. I asked if I was going to make the cutoff. They assured me I would. So all that was left was 4.4 miles. Holly would pace me to the finish line. 4.4 miles seemed like a marathon, like an ultra. I knew it would be close to 2 hours more. Sitting around would only make it longer, so off we went. I didn't feel relief or hope or impending finish quite yet. I just felt numb and tired.<br />
<br />
It rained hard. It was cold. But I was no longer in despair. I was just tired, and cold, and wet, and sleep deprived. I wanted to thank Holly for bringing me in the final stretch. I wanted to hug my crew and tell them that I could not have done this without them and that they took care of me better than any crew took care of their runners. I won the jackpot with them. I wanted to dig deep and find that final push to actually run the last couple miles to the finish. But I could do none of that. I’d lost control of all non-essential bodily functions. My brain shut down any thoughts or actions outside of Keep Moving Forward, and occasionally, Pee. So I just walked.<br />
<br />
About 2 miles out, Holly started telling me about everyone who was following the race back in LA. I knew she’d been texting my parents and some friends (Lori even sent her a video for me that I watched at mile 46), but I had no idea that others had been “watching” on online. My crew had been taking pictures of me all day, but I didn’t quite connect they were telling my story on facebook. So when I heard some of the messages that people were sending, a little light went on inside me and I perked up.<br />
<br />
She put a sweatshirt over my head to keep the rain off of it. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBkF8p4z6i3Nrp5twDjnaSgSnWY4CGMwg6KdIOEs_w2No6AO2MyoUQZASejxs8nx02mu2-5d36SVogZVpNtE2_xylp3gEwm5_cBUPqUGaydsWn20xYyF5Ttmbv6WtN0gfu9bYCpF3MVTtJ/s1600/Loop5_Rainhat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBkF8p4z6i3Nrp5twDjnaSgSnWY4CGMwg6KdIOEs_w2No6AO2MyoUQZASejxs8nx02mu2-5d36SVogZVpNtE2_xylp3gEwm5_cBUPqUGaydsWn20xYyF5Ttmbv6WtN0gfu9bYCpF3MVTtJ/s400/Loop5_Rainhat.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Final two miles. Portrait of stubborness</center></i><br />
<br />
I warmed slightly. She counted up the miles (1 done, 2 done…) and counted down as well (4 left, 3 left…) and suddenly we had less than 30 minutes left to go. A song came to me:<br />
<br />
<i>We’re out of the woods<br />
We’re out of the dark<br />
We’re out of the night<br />
Step into the sun<br />
Step into the light</i><br />
<br />
I told her and she sang along like a Munchkin from Oz. And we laughed. And I mentioned that I hadn’t worn pants for the last 28 hours. Which made me laugh more. And I finally felt like the finish line was close by. We passed a few folks as we walked in, and a few others ran past us. I admired their last kick. We crossed two roads, made a turn, and there is was – 200 yards of a finishers' chute. Holly ran ahead and joined Jason, Dave and Amy. They cheered and clapped, along with the rest of the folks waiting for their own runner. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKi0y_iHrtE7b9sKBJC8LIZEQBLXmJuj9fTs-zJY6wXeQu98n4iG4CCgomzA7Ktr-NGR-ZfpAyE_peGr7bLIkLmdAQhi61E4agyyP1WHOu55xoOvRPA8OqmQ2db9nylQGUb-XZWGYYwmFy/s1600/Loop5_Finish+Run.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKi0y_iHrtE7b9sKBJC8LIZEQBLXmJuj9fTs-zJY6wXeQu98n4iG4CCgomzA7Ktr-NGR-ZfpAyE_peGr7bLIkLmdAQhi61E4agyyP1WHOu55xoOvRPA8OqmQ2db9nylQGUb-XZWGYYwmFy/s400/Loop5_Finish+Run.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I ran toward them. Not fast and certainly not far, but I ran the best I could so I knew I had left it all out there on the course.<br />
<br />
I crossed the finish line 27 hours and 43 minutes after I started. 100 miles done.<br />
<br />
<b>Total Time</b>: 7:14:58<br />
<b>Time of Day</b>: 2:30am – 9:45am<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcGCdyPh4X0DasJgKbQJLLI35DRB8078SSbIs-H9HFoeHvdYgbSoqeIC-bkkS0BNwSb8gG9zmdS6EedyFNLA7OlmcsIBxWxy6PkU04CZr3vKRHpDg4GIWVwoztBK7EB8K3t7fWCgKa1r85/s1600/Loop5_Belt+Buckle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcGCdyPh4X0DasJgKbQJLLI35DRB8078SSbIs-H9HFoeHvdYgbSoqeIC-bkkS0BNwSb8gG9zmdS6EedyFNLA7OlmcsIBxWxy6PkU04CZr3vKRHpDg4GIWVwoztBK7EB8K3t7fWCgKa1r85/s400/Loop5_Belt+Buckle.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<b>Post Race</b><br />
<br />
Joyce Prusaitis (race director) gave me a big hug. Her husband Joe (race director) gave me my finisher’s buckle. And then my amazing crew came in for a group hug. Among all of these wonderful things, I did not feel the same elation I felt crossing an Ironman finish line, or a marathon finish line. I couldn’t process all that happened. But I knew I could stop moving forward now. I could sit down and rest. And not eat peanut butter ever again (for now).<br />
<br />
After sitting for a few minutes and warming up, my crew drove me (about a quarter mile) to the showers. They stripped me down out of my wet gear and into some sweats and a hat. I crawled into the van and we headed back to the hotel. No hunger or cravings, just a desire to get horizontal as quick as possible.<br />
<br />
Back at the hotel, Amy and Holly stripped me down again and pretty much bathed me. Kind of humbling after what I had accomplished, but there was no way I was able to get by without help. And frankly, everyone had seen me drop my trousers plenty of times over the day. No room for modesty anymore. I wasn’t able to stand well, so I just sat in a bath and soaked, then turned on the shower on and sat in the spray. At least this kind of rain was warm. Sweats went back on and I was tucked into bed by 11:30am. <br />
<br />
It was hard to rest, as overtired as I was. I closed my eyes and all I saw were root patterns. I couldn't lay still, but every time I moved my body yelled and snapped at me. It was uncomfortable. But I got an hour or so of napping while my friends fed themselves and rested. The rest of the day was saved for hanging around comparing stories, watching the Superbowl, and eating takeout and Dairy Queen. <br />
<br />
And an evil, evil ice bath.<br />
<br />
I managed to survive the race without too many physical mishaps, aside from general pain and soreness. I had two blisters (probably from the rain at the end), and my feet swelled up slightly. A couple chaffing marks from my shirt, but nothing that hasn't already disappeared. No black or lost toenails. No cuts or scrapes or bruises. I was and am pretty much intact.<br />
<br />
Monday meant cleaning the van, packing, learning to walk again and flying back to Los Angeles. I spent time reflecting on the race, but had a hard time processing it. Physically I felt it, but mentally I didn't – and still haven’t – really absorbed the achievement. Six months’ worth of training, lots of sacrifice, and a successful day when one was not necessarily guaranteed. <br />
<br />
It’s really cool. It just hasn’t hit me yet.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5mVMzlYx1-Zn57O-JMQd-hro28goYJ9SBl5ee0GwFK5L2I_HpdeUZwrVl2DVyNvrb275UAflIU0C5U_QJy7K0XMZQpyE1ctkuFiLtxVbWreQ1dzb3pvXH5XiOw5DsIEocKyXAoFAhiGs3/s1600/Loop5_Medal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5mVMzlYx1-Zn57O-JMQd-hro28goYJ9SBl5ee0GwFK5L2I_HpdeUZwrVl2DVyNvrb275UAflIU0C5U_QJy7K0XMZQpyE1ctkuFiLtxVbWreQ1dzb3pvXH5XiOw5DsIEocKyXAoFAhiGs3/s400/Loop5_Medal.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<b>Inspire</b><br />
<br />
I stayed off Facebook until I got home. When I checked it out finally, I was bowled over by the wonderful messages from my friends. I didn’t know everyone was ‘watching’ so to realize that they were all pulling for me in those deep, dark moments means very much to me. People have used the word “inspiration”. It’s a positive one, but somewhat vague, and I don’t quite know how it's defined. <br />
<br />
I hope by ‘inspiration’ people mean that what they saw and cheered on this weekend was a demonstration of how our limits are self-made, and that we can go much farther beyond what we assume we can do. <br />
<br />
There was a sign on the course that said: Challenge your most precious assumptions. <br />
<br />
You assume you can’t do something simply because you’ve never tried. Well, it’s worth a try. You assume you’re not capable of accomplishing something because your past experiences tell you couldn't do it before. Well, try again. In spite of your fear or doubt. Fear is real. Fear is a great motivator. But Fear is limiting. So fuck Fear. Go out and climb that mountain. Go out and challenge yourself. Go out and live a big life and suffer a bit and rise above it and savor the moments that you overcome yourself. It's what makes life worth it. And as Kalil Gibran says, <b>"The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain."</b><br />
<br />
It's taken a a couple days to regain my ability to walk (and control my drool), but as of today, Wednesday, I am back to normal. And as each day passes, I'm more and more appreciative of my body and my mind, and what they worked together to accomplish.<br />
<br />
To every single person who left a note, liked a post or cheered me on and wished me well – THANK YOU. <br />
<br />
To the folks who trained with me since October, came out to run along San Vicente or Palos Verde or Griffith Park, over and over again – THANK YOU.<br />
<br />
To my friends Fern, Christine, Lori and Adam who texted and tweeted and messages so intently this weekend and over this entire training season – THANK YOU.<br />
<br />
To my parents and my sister, don’t worry I think I’m going to take a few months off.<br />
<br />
To my crew, Jason, Holly, Amy and Dave: I could not have done this without every single one of you and your help this weekend and this season. The belt buckle belongs to you, too.<br />
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-32225627184230495652014-01-17T09:34:00.000-08:002014-01-17T09:34:01.971-08:00Training, Belief and Race DayOne of the reasons that I signed up for <a href="http://www.tejastrails.com/Rocky.html">Rocky Raccoon</a> is because I wanted to do something that scared me. Coming off of my <a href="http://goingforgoofy.blogspot.com/2013/07/vineman-full-triathlon-race-report.html">second Ironman</a> last July, I’d grown complacent with multi-hour workouts, though that’s not to say I was comfortable with stringing them together in front of a crowd. Anyone who was around me in the days leading up to Vineman can speak to my nerves and ticks. <br />
<br />
But my acceptance of 5, 6 and 7-hour practices, of triple-digit bike mileage and 20-something runs was a sign to myself that I was growing too comfortable. And when we are comfortable, we rarely grow. So I set myself on a path toward a triple digit run. For many reasons, but a big one was (and is) because I’ve never done one before. I’ve run upwards of 50 miles at a time, but never a step more. To train and run twice as far? Inconceivable, and dare I say, <i>Impossible </i>with a capitalization. A beast of a challenge, and something that would surely humble me. It's what I wanted. Needed.<br />
<br />
And so I trained. I have been training for 23 weeks. I've covered 1170 miles since August. My two legs, my one brain, and a trove of running shoes. My life shifted and squeezed to accommodate this goal. I wouldn't go so far as to say I've been single-mindedly obsessed, but I have spent more hours running and thinking about it than I have slept.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD8WdVsXyNW-iGgqqj2Eja0dvjxkkTUCDwdiKJOB3zQRrNdrlqk6PaeTV6_LEWsc2u5cSAXRNPh6pRDl9KunXKK3RITh4ramrNwDzOJxmV6L4awmeXjZ4Eu_a-4lKplM4e7ANMkUmhdFl_/s1600/Belief-Mountains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD8WdVsXyNW-iGgqqj2Eja0dvjxkkTUCDwdiKJOB3zQRrNdrlqk6PaeTV6_LEWsc2u5cSAXRNPh6pRDl9KunXKK3RITh4ramrNwDzOJxmV6L4awmeXjZ4Eu_a-4lKplM4e7ANMkUmhdFl_/s400/Belief-Mountains.jpg" /></a></div><center><b>Nice views from a training session</center></b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zuKX4kYZPDafhOt3PcMpaPKjOXokiJ78752TRMRwZmLOgzSCJVYpn1cS5K0VT2e7Ud4uDjpPsbTxX1xb4PftQsH3GJWLs0hDpX40D6Irxet4a6IQGkKnxP78WURWOTugjDZbjdM0B31H/s1600/Belief-Night.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zuKX4kYZPDafhOt3PcMpaPKjOXokiJ78752TRMRwZmLOgzSCJVYpn1cS5K0VT2e7Ud4uDjpPsbTxX1xb4PftQsH3GJWLs0hDpX40D6Irxet4a6IQGkKnxP78WURWOTugjDZbjdM0B31H/s400/Belief-Night.jpg" /></a></div><center><b>The night when running was more important than sleeping</center></b><br />
<br />
Life lacks guarantees. The race is 15 days away, and I cannot proclaim with complete confidence that my day will go as planned. The distance between the start line and the finish line is worlds long and far and wide. And while I have trained diligently and with as much heart and soul as this set of skin and bones can contain, I just don’t know what 17 days from now will hold – whether I’ll be eating pancakes in celebration, or eating pancakes in frustration. (Luckily pancakes are like Hallmark cards, good for any occasion)<br />
<br />
I’ve struggled to write about my training experience as the season has gone on. It’s not that I don’t have the words to walk people through what it’s like for me – an average runner, by no means gifted in mass and muscle – to log 60 and 70-mile weeks and to constantly hash and rehash race day scenarios. Or what it’s like to be the only one in your group of friends to be on this schedule. To be unrelatable and a bit of a circus sideshow. I have the words, but they have been plugged up in my head, trapped somewhere between my brain and these fingers that type. As race day approaches, they’ve fought their way down to the keyboard and are slowly finding their way out. Just as I am slowly finding my way to that start line.<br />
<br />
Like I said, I signed up and trained for this race because I wanted to do something that scared me. But, running, as it is, is not scary. Running is simple. Not always easy, but it is simple. And not scary. Yet, the training schedule diminishes down and Feb 1 is a specter on the calendar. It glows with an imaginary, scary pulse. My body can do the 'left-right-left' steps to propel myself along. It's my mind which I am hoping shows up for the race - the mental strength.<br />
<br />
When we don’t have experience to grasp onto in the face of doubt and worry, we are forced to hold onto something else – and that something else is ‘faith’ or ‘trust’ or, as I call it, ‘belief’. I have to believe in myself because that’s the best and only way I have a shot at finishing 100 miles. I have to cast aside each little spark of thought that challenges me otherwise. I have to ignore the skeptics - the ones in my head and other people around me. It’s a full-time job some days. But I have to believe I am capable. If I don't, I handicap myself well before the gun goes off. So I choose to believe:<br />
<br />
I believe I am an extremely stubborn person. And stubbornness can be wielded for good or for evil. In this case, for good. I have years of experience ‘sitting in’ pain and discomfort. It's a meat-and-mashed-potatoes of endurance events. I will hang on as long as I can out of sheer stubbornness. If I can go, I will go. If I can move, I will continue. I will channel the same line I told myself when I started working in Hollywood – “You will not break me.” Training has taught me just how crucial your mind is to your progress. Your body will go if your mind says go. So get going.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1umcaT08DdMMpQe8BBIm1Ra5bU4NlvRbnSIxsu3sjnxTXS1nkCKHze4n-BIzmfju5dFOxbdLYpyphOMUYGz5oycql-7DF4Z_7YJ8eVqNeAirlhKGAHi6aYRveMALx_ty_1_-_votsW_sy/s1600/Belief-Panda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1umcaT08DdMMpQe8BBIm1Ra5bU4NlvRbnSIxsu3sjnxTXS1nkCKHze4n-BIzmfju5dFOxbdLYpyphOMUYGz5oycql-7DF4Z_7YJ8eVqNeAirlhKGAHi6aYRveMALx_ty_1_-_votsW_sy/s400/Belief-Panda.jpg" /></a></div><center><b>A quick stop before I got going</center></b><br />
<br />
I believe in my crew. I have four people who are spending their weekend with me. Who will forgo a lot of sleep to tool around a state forest in Texas only to help me with my race. In the choice words of one, they are there “to service me.” Ha! They are all coaches. They are all Ironman finishers. One is literally a rocket scientist. One spent over 20-years in the military and knows how to move through darkness. One was nominated for an Academy Award. One was the second fastest person (pro’s included) to finish the 2.4-mile swim at IMCDA. These are the people who are the rocks and the net when I need the support.<br />
<br />
I believe that suffering makes you kinder, and that compassion is not the opposite of strength. Compassion is strength. In the past few months I have grown as an athlete. For the first time in my ‘endurance training life’ I cried on a run. Actual tears. Not because I dropped my sandwich in a puddle, either. I was exhausted. I was at my limit. And I was trying to forge forward. I cried. And my coach picked me up, figuratively and literally. And then I kept going. And I experienced that your limits are not where you think they are. I'm still here and I'm stronger for it.<br />
<br />
I believe that in some way that I may never know about, I am making a difference. For the past few months I have struggled with the idea that this whole race is a selfish pursuit. For the first time in a very long time, I was not actively coaching for a charity organization. I was not raising funds for a cause. I was just running to challenge myself. And people stepped up to help me, to join me, to listen to my complaints and concerns, and to care enough about me to ask about my progress, bring me snacks and run with me. They were giving and I felt that all I was doing was taking. I still feel this way often, but I have to believe that someone, somewhere is inspired to go out and do something to push themselves. And they will learn the same lessons that I am learning, and will be more kind, more compassionate, and stronger for it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgOLq3sYO0pABpPQhesLRg3iWgO1BYBdNpWiOHjEjaRPiyc5WS4UniGw61FgDrPCXz17k2jFF60n3HXg9y0x2-ZMGyODEkk6O_EwWVKxi0zP-UR_RUyrSF0MLNAiT39hafua1c43az_QZ7/s1600/Belief-Group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgOLq3sYO0pABpPQhesLRg3iWgO1BYBdNpWiOHjEjaRPiyc5WS4UniGw61FgDrPCXz17k2jFF60n3HXg9y0x2-ZMGyODEkk6O_EwWVKxi0zP-UR_RUyrSF0MLNAiT39hafua1c43az_QZ7/s400/Belief-Group.jpg" /></a></div><center><b>A few of the many folks who have helped me out</center></b><br />
<br />
I believe that I have earned my place at the starting line. I have not missed a single workout on my schedule. I have practiced my pacing, nutrition, hydration, self-talk, and event weekend routine. I can't speak of the finish line, but I'm proud that I have earned a place in line at mile 0. <br />
<br />
Fingers crossed for good temperatures, no rain, and the fortitude I'll need to keep on moving. I will do my best.<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-86999292062824252832013-11-11T11:33:00.000-08:002013-11-11T11:33:49.423-08:00Beatings Will Continue Until Morale ImprovesI've never cried on a training run, but this weekend I can damn near close to losing it. <br />
<br />
I was just over the midpoint of my Saturday long run - a workout sandwiched between to other moderate runs, all squished in a 36hr window. Around the 3-hour mark, with another 2 hours or so to go, I pulled out a PB&J sandwich no bigger than a stack of playing cards. It was a bright little joy among the hours of aching and frustration I was experiencing. I unwrapped it from its plastic bag and went to take a bite. But I was clumsy and the plastic was slippery and my sandwich tumbled out of my hands and into a puddle.<br />
<br />
To say I lost my will to live at that moment might be a little strong. But the run is long past and I'm still working my way through the five stages of grief. I left the sandwich and grudgingly continued my run. And long after the sun went down and the sandwich sucked up all the water in that little puddle, I finished. <br />
<br />
It's been a long (read: challenging) stretch of training the past couple of weeks. I'm now over the halfway point to <a href="http://www.tejastrails.com/Rocky.html">race day</a>, having just wrapped week 13 on the schedule. My start in August seems eons away. It was a time when the temps touched 90 degrees and the sun stayed out an extra few hours. These days, the air flirts with 70 and the sun's gotten very lazy, clocking out around 5:00pm in SoCal. I'm logged an average of 46-56 miles/week right now, with last weekend's workouts tallying as high as 59. This past weekend dropped me back to 47, though the fatigue of training is hard to shake.<br />
<br />
Each weekend for the past two months or so, I've been doing 22-30 mile runs on one day, and an additional 6-16 miles on the day or days around it. No medal, no bagel (except at the <a href="www.marinemarathon.com">Marine Corp Marathon</a>!), just a lot of time on my feet and in my head. What I'm finding out about this whole experiment is that it is very different from Ironman training, and from training with a team. The physicality and single-focus-ness of only running combined with the growing number of hours you have to keep yourself motivated is exhaustion. Interesting? Yes. Challenging? You betcha. Worthwhile? Well, I hope so.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8dv0vKzUWUJ0okINwQbj2sgEXscMLNUHfin0XdOW93kzFewx7kMWqwo73LVz1dNwgzmA0BRH3_jbN1ZUygI-LcTKwFBIjH2DRP3T5Eubfn3eGMrNRIdGHj4WOh3P4i5IAC8m2VVdVGC7p/s1600/marine+corp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8dv0vKzUWUJ0okINwQbj2sgEXscMLNUHfin0XdOW93kzFewx7kMWqwo73LVz1dNwgzmA0BRH3_jbN1ZUygI-LcTKwFBIjH2DRP3T5Eubfn3eGMrNRIdGHj4WOh3P4i5IAC8m2VVdVGC7p/s320/marine+corp.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>MCM Finish Line. Good training run among 35K other people</i></center><br />
I've also learned that not everyone ... in fact, very few people ... can relate to my interest in training for something like this. Someone at work asked me what I was doing, and after I explained (and they stopped laughing) they gave me a once over that said "You've lost a few bolts, huh?" I liken it to watching someone eat ice cream. If they declare they want to take down a hot fudge sundae alone, we cheer their ambition and gluttony. If they declare they want to go for the entire gallon, we pause, maybe back away from them, start whispering about diabetes. As if there is a limit to how high we can set our goals without becoming "that" person. Even my endurance friends look at me a little odd. But no matter. If you want to try and do something impossible, not everyone will understand. No surprise. Plenty of things I would react to the same way. For instance skydiving ... thank you but no thank you have a good day.<br />
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<b>Training</b> <br />
So anyway, what exactly does ultra training look like? Everyone has their own method based on minimum needs and what their body can take. Since I've never gone this far, it's all a closely-watched experiment. I'm working with a <a href="http://tritrain.com/">coach </a>and we go back and forth to develop a schedule that can best prep me for the task of running 100 miles (or 25-30 hours) at a time. My midweek mileage is fairly minimal. I run x2 a week (between 30-90 minutes each day) and cross train once a week. Generally those runs fall on Tuesdays (tempo work or recovery runs) and Thursdays (track workout). Every other Thursday, instead of track, I rest and instead run on Friday.<br />
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Friday/Saturday/Sun runs (or Saturday/Sunday runs) are the meat of the schedule. We try to compress my mileage within a 24-to-36-hr window in order create fatiguing conditions. So for instance, this past weekend I ran at 7pm on Friday night, 2pm-7pm on Saturday, and 5:45am-7:30am Sunday morning. Within a a 36.5-hour window, I got in 40 miles. Those distances and windows of time vary, but the trend through January will be to compress the window and up the mileage so I am prepared to handle the race day load. <br />
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Why two runs and not one? We're hoping that the slight rest in between offsets injury without giving me too much of a break before I have to start again. And frankly, sometimes starting again is worse than running all at once. The <i>Suck It Up Buttercup</i> factor is high. Will it work? I don't know. But if I am preparing myself to endurance discomfort and suffering, I'm getting a fair amount of that right now. <br />
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My body is adapting to the work load okay, aside from a nagging Achilles ache caused by my tight left calf muscle. My mind has been struggling lately. With the exception of some company from my coach Jason and two friends Amy and Dave, I primarily run alone. It's great race simulation since I can't have a pacer until mile 60. And my body awareness is very heightened and attuned when I'm not distracted by conversation.(I am lucky, however, that this particular races has aid stations every 3-6 miles, and my crew can be at 3 of the 5 stations along the loop).<br />
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But the hours add up. And maintaining self-propulsion gets hard. And to watch others go off and workout together with a team or with friends is not easy. But I keep reminding myself I didn't sign up for easy. I signed up for struggle-and-survive-and-earn-it. And I will be prepared for moments during the race when I have to deal without any help. Perfect practices makes perfect, and I think I'm getting that.<br />
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<b>Food</b> <br />
The approach I'm taking about my race nutrition is inspired by the <a href="http://feedzonecookbook.com/">Feed Zone</a> Cookbook and <a href="http://osmonutrition.com/">Osmo Nutrition</a>. I've limited my liquid calories to all but nothing, save for some electrolyte mix that has a few calories. The remainder of my nutritional is solid foods or "real food" ... with an occasional Dr. Pepper thrown in for a quick sugar hit. <br />
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The reason I'm tackling my fueling this way is because I don't think my stomach would cooperate if I fuel it with a sports drink and carb supplement for such a long race. Especially one that is only running. In Ironman races, I could rely on liquids to get me through the bike. But that's because there's a lot less jostling going on in the gut. Here, it's all movement all the time. My main go-to's are salted potatoes, peanut butter pretzels, PBJ or turkey sandwiches, squeeze-pack baby food (for quick sugar), string cheese, rice balls and chicken broth. The more I can incorporate slow-burn foods (high fat, high protein) the less likely I will sugar-crash. And that my pacing is a zone 1 HR clip, my body is more attuned to burning fat over carbs anyway.<br />
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<b>Fatigued Thoughts</b> <br />
Quite a number of things cross my mind out there. I've certainly shocked myself at some of the funny and stupid things I've used to keep myself entertained. <br />
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For example, two weekends ago I was in the Santa Monica mountains for 7 hours. I ran 4 loops of the La Jolla Valley trail, 7+ mile course that requires a fair amount of climbing and descending at its bookends. I did the first two loops alone, the third with Amy, and the forth alone. During the second loop, I started naming parts of the trails. The first part was 'Soul Crusher', the second was 'Matchsticks", then onto "the Hidden Valley Ranch Commercial" and over to the "Nature Valley Granola Bar Commercial". After that you run past "The Eye of Mordor" and up to "King of the Mountain". You descend along the "Mountain Goat Ridge Run" and back to the car. In other words, I became a crazy tour guide rambling on about made up landmarks. So when I ran with Amy that third loop, it was more of a tour of my habitat rather than just another loop.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjewWHg9PjDCf80eZ2WpD4xULjePuTSE_z8ghkAlZvv9FJT3QZWSdSCRypSHSh7S0n-Xhr7qauieaIDCzz4-lZlPdkW2cnOeGC1ucSavzU1Qemfwsg3AxWO6FpLZL6IMssKc47CnmpNuvRA/s1600/Point+Mugu+Trails.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjewWHg9PjDCf80eZ2WpD4xULjePuTSE_z8ghkAlZvv9FJT3QZWSdSCRypSHSh7S0n-Xhr7qauieaIDCzz4-lZlPdkW2cnOeGC1ucSavzU1Qemfwsg3AxWO6FpLZL6IMssKc47CnmpNuvRA/s400/Point+Mugu+Trails.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Clockwise from the right: King of the Mountain; Hidden Valley Ranch Commercial; Nature Valley Granola Bar Commercial; Soul Crusher; The Eye of Mordor (aka Boney Mountain)</i></center><br />
This Saturday's sandwich-less run had my brain going into 'survival mode'. Now, the way I train is by doing loops on paths that SAG back at my car. And in this case, I was never more than a few miles away, and always right in civilization. Yet, tired and traumatized by losing my snack, I decided when I returned to the car that I would always carry an 'emergency potato' with me. I packed up a tiny fingerling potato which become my source of light and happiness for the rest of the run. And the phrase, 'emergency potato' delighted me inexplicably. If I wanted to quit (which, boy did I have my moments), I remembered I was carrying my emergency potato and everything would be okay.<br />
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Sounds crazy ... <b>because it is</b>. Running alone and running in the dark can do that to you. The folks who will pace at the race are probably in for some comedy. So long as I don't drop my food on the ground. Then they are in for tears. Curse words and tears.<br />
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<b>Onward</b><br />
Though this past week was a struggle, I'm deepening my resiliency. This training is a masters class in 'embrace the suck'. I even woke up this morning a little bummed it's a rest day. With proper rest, focus and a fair amount of ice and icy hot, I'll be ready for the build next weekend - 2 runs. 24 hours. 42 miles total. And without a doubt I will be packing at least two sandwiches for that one. An appeasement for the gods of trails and puddles, and a little bit of joy (and peanut butter) for me. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-91203263910280095232013-10-14T11:45:00.001-07:002013-10-14T20:21:12.756-07:00Point Mugu Trail Race and La Jolla Valley RunI signed up for the <a href="http://trailrace.com/ptmugu.html">Xterra Point Mugu 18k</a> a few weeks ago. It was a good excuse to get out in the mountains and some climbs on my legs. I <a href="http://goingforgoofy.blogspot.com/2008/09/race-day-point-mugu-18k-xterra-trail.html">ran the race back in 2008</a> (wow, five years goes by very fast!) so I had some lingering knowledge about what the course was like. I'd remember it for its long climbs to the sky and its final miles of speedy switchbacks.<br />
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Per my training schedule, I was required to do 23 miles. Since an 18k is only about 11 miles, I still owed 12 more. Luckily, there was an 11k option offered by Xterra, so my coach suggested I run the 11k loop prior to the 18k race, and then run another 11k loop following the race. I knew this would be a tough training day, but sometimes we need the mental challenge just as much as we need the physical challenge. And while <a href="http://www.tejastrails.com/Rocky.html">Rocky Raccoon</a> will not have nearly as much climbing, running on fatigued legs will surely be an issue. So, extra loops plus a 3.5hr Saturday workout are beneficial fatigue-inducers.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQnQOW6tj7iNGQGAuUG32HugPULbTRAMNfPoj5Igp-iPJ01dJLCH-3LOC_cei_-QgtC_HaGzORRm7xpfXtPe1Q5FZhWO-br1d7x1kQix9965SX4v12XtXh8mXwM7cguDxs46h79aDf1RLs/s1600/ptmugu_map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQnQOW6tj7iNGQGAuUG32HugPULbTRAMNfPoj5Igp-iPJ01dJLCH-3LOC_cei_-QgtC_HaGzORRm7xpfXtPe1Q5FZhWO-br1d7x1kQix9965SX4v12XtXh8mXwM7cguDxs46h79aDf1RLs/s640/ptmugu_map.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Point Mugu is located North of Malibu, technically in Ventura County, CA. It was about a 45min drive in the dark along PCH. I arrived at the race start at 5:35am. Some race volunteers were already milling around the parking lot, setting up the expo area prior to 7am packet pick up. It was completely dark, so I wore my <a href="http://gomotiongear.com/shop/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=11">Go Motion Sternum Kit</a> as well as a clip-on LED light for my visor. I had the course map downloaded to my phone and I carried a paper map as well. But again, I was lucky that the race had already marked the course with flour and arrows, so I didn't have a problem finding my way. Sort of. The lights I wore were great for illuminating the trail, but the first few miles were so technical, did a lot of climbing and hiking as opposed to actual running.<br />
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Once I got out into the La Jolla Valley, around mile 2.5, I was on a wide dirt road in the field. I could see evidence of the <a href="http://www.malibutimes.com/news/article_97cc19ea-b382-11e2-af35-001a4bcf887a.html">Spring Fire</a> that decimated the area. As the sun rose, more damage was revealed. The valley smelled like charcoal and the trees and plants still had layers of black soot, making the the scenery look like an odd and creepy Halloweenland.<br />
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The sun rose around mile 3, just as I made the turn west, back toward the ocean. I was along the Overlook Fire Road and snapped some photos of the sun rising over Boney Mountain. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTjmSqevwka23dkJ03RKcq68ru0Nqs5T9bpPkQqwTQrs7b2l5eGHAJAWJT8Z36HS0qUDmbMlSMOM6X5vi081CU6X3Th_oaijoVWldyEGosdxN7gVh8GjjAYKEiy2j3k9iSPN22N3WwG60d/s1600/Sunrise+Mile+4-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTjmSqevwka23dkJ03RKcq68ru0Nqs5T9bpPkQqwTQrs7b2l5eGHAJAWJT8Z36HS0qUDmbMlSMOM6X5vi081CU6X3Th_oaijoVWldyEGosdxN7gVh8GjjAYKEiy2j3k9iSPN22N3WwG60d/s640/Sunrise+Mile+4-2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
You can see the outline of black tree limbs in the forefront of two of the photos. It's not a trick of the light - they are colored pitch even in sunlight. They look like frail skeletons of the trees they used to be, and yet after the sweeping fire, they still stand. Nature rewards perseverance.<br />
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With the sun up around mile 4 (50mins into the run), I shut off my light and enjoyed the remainder of the loop. Temperature was in the 50s, so my long sleeve shirt was a good choice. It was an overcast morning, boding well for the race, but the clouds dampened the light and the mountains before me were muted brown. Still pretty, though.<br />
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This is the view of the mountains, from Overlook Fire Road looking north. The Ray Miller trailhead is somewhere down by the water. It's crazy to see exactly how high you have to climb to get here. Of course there are higher points, to be sure. But to be able to stand on top of a mountain and have a clear reference point of where you came from is really neat.<br />
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The final 2.5 miles of the loop are switchbacks the run the ridge of the mountain. They used to be lined with vegetation, but as you can see ... all gone.<br />
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I descended the mountain, quads on alert during the speed portions, and clocked my watch at the base of the hill. A good warm up and good fatigue inducer.<br />
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7.28 miles / 1hr 17mins.<br />
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I had a 40-min break before starting the organized race. I went back to my car to refuel (potatoes, pretzels, water) and met up with my friend Adam who was also doing the race. Grabbed packet and bib and got in line for the race. What I like about trail races are the lack of fanfare. Usually there is a guy with a megaphone cracking jokes and counting down the waves - if there are any waves at all. Yesterday there were. <br />
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I self-seeded toward the back of the pack, knowing I'd take this loop as slowly as I could manage without walking the whole thing. And once I started, I realized just how helpful running that first loop was - the 18k and the 11k share a lot of the same course, so I knew what was coming. Additionally, my legs were tired so my ego had no problem letting many people pass me along the trail. I went on my merry way without a thought to "racing" the actual course.<br />
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What the 18k has the the 11k does not is a gnarly climb from mile 2.5 to 3.5 that seems to go on forever. Because of the burn out, it was easy to see the runners, like a parade of ants, crawling up the side of a mountain. I took a moment mid-climb to take a picture of what was behind us.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx7SAr9ACAWv8mvf9KKX-0op3BCXJ62c-0qt6tBYuhVsFEc4yrNxIivKwKygE6yDRgywfKzeTPd9U2Iss4QWYmw-tGUQpegqUESAsTHZ9zfjMJDsWIC-ldNL6HRQ87n9kv_mO7_APUfVOg/s1600/XTerra+Loop+2-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx7SAr9ACAWv8mvf9KKX-0op3BCXJ62c-0qt6tBYuhVsFEc4yrNxIivKwKygE6yDRgywfKzeTPd9U2Iss4QWYmw-tGUQpegqUESAsTHZ9zfjMJDsWIC-ldNL6HRQ87n9kv_mO7_APUfVOg/s640/XTerra+Loop+2-1.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNYXPgtkOx4KzBHn2yIDb4J1v0whrsBer2aZnlWwsNKVIzQHerWy42GRTt_2N6ZkHdY_wDPc03NdFXP9q597vqEIwL85wnBUtbdB79WCpCN5TaGjzh2jAT1EljL1EdNY0tCCconfjyNhl7/s1600/XTerra+Loop+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNYXPgtkOx4KzBHn2yIDb4J1v0whrsBer2aZnlWwsNKVIzQHerWy42GRTt_2N6ZkHdY_wDPc03NdFXP9q597vqEIwL85wnBUtbdB79WCpCN5TaGjzh2jAT1EljL1EdNY0tCCconfjyNhl7/s640/XTerra+Loop+2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
It wasn't until the last few miles of the race that the sun came out. Temperatures stayed similarly in the high 50s and low 60s. I plodded along with the rest of the pack, walking a lot and enjoying the view. It was around mile 7 (mile 14 for the day) when the distance and climbs really started to set in my body. Doubt creeped into my mind - "Can I really do another loop after this? I'm really tired." The early wake up (4am), running in the dark (intense focus) and general activity was building up like lactic acid in my brain. This was good - as much as I didn't want one, I needed a good mental challenge.<br />
<br />
Down the switchbacks once again and toward the finish line. I took the decent very easy, letting handfuls of folks pass me. Many said 'thanks' or 'sorry' as if their speed was a downer for me. Nope, not at all! I usually answered, 'good job' or 'go for it!' and continued to run. I chatted with another runner for about 20 minutes. She's signed up for a 100K in March and has her eye on Javelina Jundred next year. My spirits were lifted after talking with someone, and once I crossed the finish line, I was resolved to finish my workout and do one more loop.<br />
<br />
10.98 miles / 2hrs 6mins<br />
<br />
------<br />
<br />
I was so focused on the post-race food, I forgot to get a finishers medal. Oh well, the breakfast tacos were reward enough!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioIrGhbZfTexJcDM1EHjDTXjgefwf4RwuoVotX2d8hy8sJs9Q6HSFTinjsJUO0M60Q53TdOC91R4foyRKKfZb-Q73naHVOn88kx94ogz5Ep52d6c3Rltcz-cIaOqa3dWOYLoNFKEitEKs8/s1600/Feet+Loop+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioIrGhbZfTexJcDM1EHjDTXjgefwf4RwuoVotX2d8hy8sJs9Q6HSFTinjsJUO0M60Q53TdOC91R4foyRKKfZb-Q73naHVOn88kx94ogz5Ep52d6c3Rltcz-cIaOqa3dWOYLoNFKEitEKs8/s640/Feet+Loop+2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
My new trail shoes gave me a hell of a blister on the left side, so for the final run, I swapped them out...and cleaned up my legs a little. Changed my shirt to short sleeve, a quick bottle refill, nutrition load up, and off on the 11k course one last time. The race course closed at 11:30, so the signage was gone. But by now I was fairly familiar with the route. Temps stayed cooler - 64 degrees.<br />
<br />
It was rough going. My quads were sore from the switchback miles. I was solo, so my head was left to do what it will - which is wander and wonder why I am doing this. My heart rate felt extremely high, so I hiked the majority of the first four miles. There were few quick distractions, like running into fellow <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TriTrainEnduranceCoaching">TriTrain </a>teammates Patrick, Charlie and Vince, who were adding more miles after the 18k. But for the most part, I pushed myself to just walk and get the miles done. Mentally difficult.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3E0XEJRJ7m0UMMSDhlMtaIj8NnEeRAckLXM36yEak9LFE0eyN7AYxV1W0vzfq-i8PbQyVWk10QXNToY_rUWQEHgURb-4KQ8kx-WH9Whs85V_yrSIaPCeKDGj9NnzS949hBmRpLidsTAC9/s1600/Dry+Waterfall+Loop+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3E0XEJRJ7m0UMMSDhlMtaIj8NnEeRAckLXM36yEak9LFE0eyN7AYxV1W0vzfq-i8PbQyVWk10QXNToY_rUWQEHgURb-4KQ8kx-WH9Whs85V_yrSIaPCeKDGj9NnzS949hBmRpLidsTAC9/s640/Dry+Waterfall+Loop+3.jpg" /></a></div><br />
All the walking allowed me time to take some photos. This one above is around the first half mile of the course. That light-colored rock in the center is a dry waterfall which both the 18k and 11k course scale. I'm not sure how I did that the first time with my light vest on. But I did! Seeing it in daylight was shocking and really pretty. It's a rocky climb though. Nothing like using your hands during a running race!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2e2z3bb2AP3cNiXP7sUqDAC3qVMI0oqtGN5gAlN3k0PbsKpca0n3VJNQOD3QtZ5Oym-J_ZzJWC6fSSVVRCQf8vH7C6PoO0MTfQGHlksqnKXEAH-Nwtj9ukjXdHWAsSzcyb7gXCzuIjYAX/s1600/Charred+Trees+Loop+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2e2z3bb2AP3cNiXP7sUqDAC3qVMI0oqtGN5gAlN3k0PbsKpca0n3VJNQOD3QtZ5Oym-J_ZzJWC6fSSVVRCQf8vH7C6PoO0MTfQGHlksqnKXEAH-Nwtj9ukjXdHWAsSzcyb7gXCzuIjYAX/s640/Charred+Trees+Loop+3.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Between miles 1-2 of the 11k loop is like running through a haunted forest. Just below this photo on the left side was a small valley covered in white ash, as if it had snowed. I remember thinking it looked like pictures I'd seen of the Chernobyl remains. Though none were there, I would not have been surprised to see some abandoned children's playground toys. Though in that case, I would have turned around, convinced it was haunted.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YKaAk4oDn1MYkpMp4TT2-LwOXImYCsxXkZHF_1fWFcGdqzIcEtyLCfqU2qfeNhXoGO9ZS3_8DrB2tjteROqrZ0l-RNfaWlQhw5jSuw-kYZv7gd59HEx1IysdGFJJlTBnJad04CCeLMMh/s1600/Valley+Loop+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YKaAk4oDn1MYkpMp4TT2-LwOXImYCsxXkZHF_1fWFcGdqzIcEtyLCfqU2qfeNhXoGO9ZS3_8DrB2tjteROqrZ0l-RNfaWlQhw5jSuw-kYZv7gd59HEx1IysdGFJJlTBnJad04CCeLMMh/s640/Valley+Loop+3.jpg" /></a></div><br />
My lowest moments came while taking this picture. I was almost an hour into the run and approaching mile 4. I couldn't see the ocean yet, but just the low stretch of sky and land on my side. The road seemed to climb forever and while the grade wasn't steep, my body did not want to challenge it. So I hiked hard and shuffled along. I moved passed a group of hikers who were cursing the trail as well - but with 20-lb packs on your back, you're allowed to.<br />
<br />
Finally, I reached the downhill section. Seeing the ocean was like seeing the sunrise after time in the dark - it shatters the sense that the experience is infinite. It offers hope of a finish and a nice bottle of water and handful of food. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTHnVecLKtou5GPo7t6X3oUbhS1H1PJGzTuerQxgxArrE_XTObggzwbJ8yl_XLFRUaZwODpxSDSjp2-bRomVq03Lu1GhKmEfmNMP2ZSCvaf0h9N-O8CnxbzTbFz42mIXb_jASw5qKh4yXE/s1600/Ocean+Loop+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTHnVecLKtou5GPo7t6X3oUbhS1H1PJGzTuerQxgxArrE_XTObggzwbJ8yl_XLFRUaZwODpxSDSjp2-bRomVq03Lu1GhKmEfmNMP2ZSCvaf0h9N-O8CnxbzTbFz42mIXb_jASw5qKh4yXE/s640/Ocean+Loop+3.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I took the trail gently because my legs were barking at me. I even threw in a few lengths of walking to reduce the pounding on my knees and hips. And during the final miles, more runners started to make their appearance. I passed at least three of whom were running up the switchbacks - crazy! Reaching the bottom of the hill and hitting the stop button on my watch was a very relieving thing. Done for the day!<br />
<br />
7.21 miles / 1hr 34mins<br />
<br />
----<br />
Totals for the day were somewhere close to: 25.5 miles / 5:00 hours / 4000ft of elevation<br />
<br />
This was a hard day. But this was also a good day. Like, in the world of amassing 'toughness' and building 'grit' maybe I earned myself a penny or an inch or an ounce. I'll take it. Thank you to the <a href="www.xterraplanet.com/trailrun">XTerra</a> folks for running such a great race, and to the <a href="http://www.smmtc.org/">Santa Monica Trail Council</a> for keeping the trails clear and free of dangerous debris. There are 108 more days until my first 100-mile attempt. Between mountains and mole hills and no hills and rest days ... I've got to make the most of them.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-59878220947805650012013-09-03T12:36:00.000-07:002013-09-03T20:10:42.456-07:00Running for a While and the Questions You AskMy month of August ramblings...<br />
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<b>Training</b><br />
<br />
With Ironteam life in my rear view mirror, I've had some time to recalibrate my workout life. And rest of my life, too. But this is mostly about my workouts. No longer needing to survive a 2.4-mile swim, I've cut back my swim to once each week. Mostly pool time, though <a href="http://www.twitter.com/CycLA_C">Christine </a>did manage to lure me into the ocean for a sunrise swim once. It was pretty. But popping my head up every two minutes to say, "Don't let me be dragged out to sea!" doesn't make for an efficient workout for either of us. So, for now I will go to the ocean to play in the waves and boogie board. Maybe touch the buoy once in a while. But no extended time there for me. I just don't find the happiness there that other people do.<br />
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I've also decreased the time an intensity on the bike to 1-2x each week. Casual riding on the weekend if it fits in. Preferably chased with a breakfast plate of eggs and cheese and coffee. Midweek workouts are for spinning out tired running legs and resting my cranky Achilles. It's still warm enough and light enough to enjoy some morning miles before I head off to be a desk monkey.<br />
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The bulk of my training has been running - back to the basics. I really do like the triad of triathlon sports. It just takes extra effort to string them together. When reduced to just running, my schedule is freer and my mind is less cluttered. It fits into my life well.<br />
<br />
I have two events on my schedule - <a href="http://www.marinemarathon.com/">Marine Corp Marathon</a> and the <a href="http://www.rundisney.com/disneyworld-marathon/">Goofy Challenge</a>. Both I am planning to use as training days for a longer race I have my eye on. Right now I'm about five weeks into a plan that puts me at the start line of a century run in February. I have not put the money down to save me a spot at the start. I'm still debating the merits of committing to another enormous feat less than 7 months after a nine-month Ironman season. But the prospect of trying for something new, challenging and almost impossible (in my mind) is tempting. Just over a month into this phantom ultra training schedule, and I've already logged more miles - 138.5 - in August (per month) that I have in about a year and a half. And aside from my Achilles pain, I feel good. My weekend runs have ranged from 16-20 miles on Sundays, backed by occasional single digit (4-8miles) workouts the day before. It's territory that immediately brings me back to 2009 and <a href="http://goingforgoofy.blogspot.com/2009/04/american-river-50-race-report-part-3.html">American River 50</a> training. Slow, steady mileage and time on your feet. Learn to move for hours on end. Learn to love the sound of your own footsteps. Those miles and hours will soon creep up into the mid-20s to low 30s. All local grocery stores and restaurants - you have been warned.<br />
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<b>Meditating on 20 Tough Miles</b><br />
<br />
This weekend I made it through one of the hardest 20-milers I've ever done. Not because the course was all that challenging. In fact, it was fairly flat and very familiar. What got me was the baking sun (90 degrees, no shade) and the lack of music/friends/fellow runners around me. It was just me, two water bottles, a few salted balls of rice and my own feet and brain. It took me 12.5 miles to "warm up" - meaning, I stopped paying attention to the heat and finally felt awake and engaged with my workout. I chowed on rice, dark chocolate espresso beans and one ginger candy. When things got tough and I wanted to quit, I reduced my interval. I downed a cold coke at mile 16.5 for a much needed sugar injection. I randomly ran into <a href="http://anabelcapalbo.wordpress.com/">Anabel </a>along the beach path just before I was turning around for the final 3 miles. Seeing a friendly face was a saving grace and good mental boost. I finished - soaking wet, exhausted and tired of my own thoughts in my head. One of which was - why the hell are you doing this?<br />
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It's a good question. It's one that needs an answer. Why? Why go for a 3hr run? A 5hr run? A 25hr run? <br />
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The more I read the wisdom of seasoned ultramarathoners, the more I realize the significance of answering that question. They ask, "Why do you want to do it?" They don't care about the specifics of the answer. Instead, the message is ... have a reason to run. Have a reason to go for 100 miles. Have it in your back pocket. Have it tattoo'd on your skin. Have it ready and available because if you do not have a true, burning reason to test yourself at that distance ... don't do it. You won't make it.<br />
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I had a spoonful of this friction on Friday during that run. The voice that asks "Why?" spoke up, loudly at some points. And when it does, you have two choices - find an answer or quit. Have one fiery reason or ten of them. See the goal in your mind and make sure your sharp-sightedness is stronger than the noise trying to distract you. When you pack your water bottles and your nutrition and recovery for your workout, don't forget to pack your reasons, too. In the middle of your own workout, the choice is on you: answer and move forward or quit and get off the road. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpjEcnVzV5r-veEJnTJKBKiPNjU-TECmFM3FGdj2ntspIh_oY24W6vH7q_5F8DXSVOUEUuYtNzp0iCKrsaQnU23WybgZqYwf6lvvyZaOdX838GRHUPKbGZ4XYrQaYwL7lzh8Uss_HNN6IG/s1600/lolli.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpjEcnVzV5r-veEJnTJKBKiPNjU-TECmFM3FGdj2ntspIh_oY24W6vH7q_5F8DXSVOUEUuYtNzp0iCKrsaQnU23WybgZqYwf6lvvyZaOdX838GRHUPKbGZ4XYrQaYwL7lzh8Uss_HNN6IG/s400/lolli.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Admittedly, I did have a lollipop later that day</center></i><br />
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It's good to have tough training runs. As a coach, it makes me more understanding of the struggles my athletes face. In good timing, I coached a workout two days following that run, and spent the last four miles of an 18-mile day with one participant who was struggling. Being able to emotionally tap back into Friday's run definitely shaped the way I interacted with her. Hopefully helpfully. Completely tough training runs - regardless of its distance - are good litmus tests of how badly you want something. It's a measure of <a href="https://sites.sas.upenn.edu/duckworth/pages/research">Grit</a>. And grit is good. It's also a measure of how crazy you are. That's also good because you need to be at least a little looney to be exceed your own limits. In running and in life, as Jerry West points out, <b>"You can't get much done in life if you only work on the days when you feel good."</b><br />
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I'm still not sure I will sign up for this ultra, though I'm certain at least one or two of some distance are on the horizon for me. I'll continue to train to my schedule, check out the necessary gear and logistics required of the run, and meet with my coach to make a final decision and solid plan for success. It's all one giant, sometimes-expensive, frequently-rewarding, precipice-seeking , adventurous experiment. Sometimes referred to simply as Life.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-26864697317537266122013-08-05T11:50:00.000-07:002013-08-05T11:50:22.397-07:00Weekend of Biking Without a PlanFirst weekend without a training plan or team practice since last October. Untethered and free to do what I chose … I chose to swim and bike. Stockholm Syndrome, perhaps? <br />
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But instead of holding myself to certain routes, distances and paces, I embraced a ‘choose your own adventure’ style of outdoors fun and went on a few adventures, deeming it an Escape from the Bike Path!<br />
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Saturday morning was an early wake up – 6:30, so I could swim at 7am. The pool was quiet, and I swam for 30 minutes very slowly but very happily. 1500 yards or so. Post-season swim means never having to do 100m interval repeats! I think I might start liking swims again. Afterward, I hopped on my bike and headed over to Santa Monica to meet my friends for a ride. I took the bike path from Culver City to Marina Del Rey, cut through Venice and to Santa Monica. About 13 miles. <br />
<br />
Arrived at the popular meeting spot, and to little surprise, I was greeted by one of the TNT Campaign Managers who was out shepherding her Fall team. Then, a few other Summer Tri team folks arrived for their ride. And I heard that another group of triathletes had just passed on their Hood-to-Coast training run. Basically, whether you are in or out of season, if you want a workout buddy – head to this spot. It’s like a weekly reunion!<br />
<br />
Took off with my friends for a “golf course loop” and “Amalfi loop” which means a 5-6mile warm up and then a 5-mile set of climbs through some of the most expensive neighborhoods in the city. My legs felt good one week out from the ironman. I didn’t push, but just rode along for the company. I split off when they headed to go to hill repeats (<a href="http://www.mandevillecanyonassociation.com/canyonactivities.html">Mandeville Canyon</a>, a 5 mile climb popular with city cyclists). Decided to ride back home via city streets instead of the bike path. I wanted to get the feeling of riding among the morning traffic and check out the state of the pavement. I’m confident enough in my bike handling skills to do this, so it felt like a nice little adventure.<br />
I rode 26th Street / Olympic / Westwood / Pico / Motor / Venice avenues. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhThv0-pkczGfWnZrm7KRGvDmlWtYOxH4mNpR3NRah_WSUo6S28yrp4AKgu-Cw7-nMCFsRaoLedJMiRD_Gctl3w9_jFVjNApMDWeQ3OMlEsIFWd6SPhzhp_EMNprEH1h_z0q1OAiFa7qMcl/s1600/escape+bike+ride.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhThv0-pkczGfWnZrm7KRGvDmlWtYOxH4mNpR3NRah_WSUo6S28yrp4AKgu-Cw7-nMCFsRaoLedJMiRD_Gctl3w9_jFVjNApMDWeQ3OMlEsIFWd6SPhzhp_EMNprEH1h_z0q1OAiFa7qMcl/s400/escape+bike+ride.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>One big loop!</center></i><br />
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For the most part, it was low traffic (10am on a Saturday). It wasn’t the smoothest ride through Olympic and Westwood – the roads are pocked and pitted as much as any urban avenue. Pico and Motor were much better, but the sheer number of stop signs through the Cheviot Hills neighborhood had me braking just as often as I pedaled. Took about 45 minutes to get home. 31 miles for the day, and a lot of fun to see something new. Me and Oatmeal are on good terms right now. No flats, good handling, no odd noises. Good day to be a biker.<br />
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I almost ditched the bike on Sunday for the team’s ad hoc open water swim. But I woke up and the sky was grey and I felt like going for a ride again. So off I went for an unplanned spin. The first part of the ride was a mental low. I began to dwell on the fact that I skipped the open water swim because I was nervous about it, and out poured the self-criticism. And I also mulled over the thought – “why would I go and do the swim? I’m not training for a triathlon … I’m not training for anything at all.” And there was the ton-of-bricks, post-ironman-blues, unmoored-from-the-dock floating feeling that I don’t like. No structure. No challenge/reward. Uh-oh. Well, something I have to figure out.<br />
<br />
Self-talked my way down to Dockweiler State Beach and over to LAX, where I watched the airplanes take off and land for a while. Headed along the route our team did at our very first bike practice. Memories of ‘way back when’ were nice to think about. Returned to the beach, and got a text from a friend I was meeting for breakfast. Decided I was closer to the food place than to home, so I decided to bike there. Skipped the bike path once again and took some new city streets into Santa Monica in search of some <a href="http://www.mstreetkitchen.com/">bacon</a>!<br />
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The ride was unremarkable until I came upon a closed off section of Main Street (letting bikers through, thankfully. I assumed it was a result of the <a href="http://losangeles.cbslocal.com/2013/08/04/man-arrested-in-connection-with-venice-boardwalk-hit-and-run/">Saturday Night mayhem</a> along the boardwalk. But a few minutes later I learned that it was not part of the crime scene, but rather part of the Hari Krishna parade …heading straight toward me. So, me and my bike edged over to the side, riding salmon against hundreds of paraders and floats. Did not expect my Sunday to be so … colorful and celebratory!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioaVJxBw8ZPAN9gvtA_zioYpxnH21QMQKhyphenhyphenwdCzc1TfWrwXWHYJH9W2329ySuUAilhFQTptKMYEwseae0O2-RDoIh91QHpuaIZKsgAA8kkEk3hIq7HlBzw4vNqkD1_65d4xgDnw0dfAlJ1/s1600/parade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioaVJxBw8ZPAN9gvtA_zioYpxnH21QMQKhyphenhyphenwdCzc1TfWrwXWHYJH9W2329ySuUAilhFQTptKMYEwseae0O2-RDoIh91QHpuaIZKsgAA8kkEk3hIq7HlBzw4vNqkD1_65d4xgDnw0dfAlJ1/s400/parade.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Tail end of the parade</center></i><br />
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The parade soon passed. I arrived and I achieved bacon. Good conversation with friends about triathlons, running, training programs and local clubs. Hopped back on Oatmeal and took another, non-bike-path route home. Flying along at 22mph with some slower cars felt good. Sun was starting to come out as I pulled into my street. Another 31 miles in the books. No route slip or data analysis in sight. Just another good bike adventure with Oatmeal, Mario (see below) and the voices in my head. I think we will be having many more of these two-wheeled explorations in weeks to come. Happy off-season.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUVz7tCjtXNEYO_9KjmGEHCMEw2uEYxQL6Qq3EYP-OCXDtfvKJ4Wt2W9ZEmsfAhv6kWy0mUpbOsAkvfsZ2PyZ8igF-yC72Z8KewkLo-v1UCbTmMoNzuScX7mj4cwtv5B5XGgXI8Fa_sOzz/s1600/mario+bars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUVz7tCjtXNEYO_9KjmGEHCMEw2uEYxQL6Qq3EYP-OCXDtfvKJ4Wt2W9ZEmsfAhv6kWy0mUpbOsAkvfsZ2PyZ8igF-yC72Z8KewkLo-v1UCbTmMoNzuScX7mj4cwtv5B5XGgXI8Fa_sOzz/s640/mario+bars.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-28137858286964239032013-07-30T15:40:00.002-07:002013-07-31T08:22:48.629-07:00Vineman Full Triathlon - Race ReportThese are the Vinemen. We trained together - with 50 other teammates - for 38 weeks. On Saturday, we raced the <a href="http://www.vineman.com">Vineman Full Triathlon</a>, the oldest ironman-distance race in the country. Through the hills and valleys and vineyards of Sonoma County, CA, we swam, biked and ran for an entire day. Not just for the sake of a challenge, but also to support the Leukemia and Lymphoma society find a cure for blood cancers, and all cancers.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbIOCc-TBX666JjAUCGW2jdClGkpTkazqfx5XGr_lMax5PxFQob7r8nN_SYTGkldbtQ8OSM3x7ilg7GP5RFeDM_1ZbNl6OXG7vXSnABf905gOd0fVkGB6kHc9YUlH3JLq7U1wYqOtAztZJ/s1600/Vineman+Ironteam+Logo+Picture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbIOCc-TBX666JjAUCGW2jdClGkpTkazqfx5XGr_lMax5PxFQob7r8nN_SYTGkldbtQ8OSM3x7ilg7GP5RFeDM_1ZbNl6OXG7vXSnABf905gOd0fVkGB6kHc9YUlH3JLq7U1wYqOtAztZJ/s640/Vineman+Ironteam+Logo+Picture.jpg"/></a></div><center><i>The Vinemen: Rona, Lisa, Tiffany, me, Marissa, Alex, Amanda, Beth, Marianthe. (Not pictured: Rene, Elissa, Solange, Ben, Naomi)</center></i><br />
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Back in October, I dedicated my season to my friend, <a href="http://www.twitter.com/sitbones">Fern</a>. She's one of my biggest supporters and cheerleaders. I know other folks who can say the same. Despite her multiple bouts with three types of cancer, she shares her warmth, spirit and charity with everyone she knows. And though she does not do marathons anymore herself, she's the first to yell your name on twitter on race day. She deals with insurance and doctors and extreme weather in Colorado. I deal with steep hills, little sleep and temperate Southern California. If she can do it. I can do it. That's why I race for her.<br />
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I was especially nervous in the days leading up to the race. When you train for something for nine months and sacrifice important parts of your life for a goal ... that one day that it all boils down to becomes very, very important. And sometimes daunting. As <a href="http://www.twitter.com/CycLA_C">Christine </a>described, I had ants in my pants all week. It was a relief to stop juggling work and packing and my general well-being and just head up to NorCal on Wednesday. <a href="http://www.twitter.com/hesort">Holly </a>and I made the long car drive in 9 hours. We definitely did not PR that trip. But we got there, joined the team, and settled into a few days of light workouts and race prep before the big day.<br />
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<b>Pre-Race Thoughts:</b><br />
<br />
The coaches (Holly, <a href="http://www.twitter.com/davesgottatri">Dave</a>, <a href="http://www.twitter.com/tritrainms">Jason</a>, <a href="http://www.twitter.com/planetmort">Amy</a>, <a href="http://www.twitter.com/hilladamj">Adam </a>and Quinton) would check in with me now and then to make sure I wasn't overly nervous. Simply asking, "How are you feeling?" was helpful. I chatted with <a href="http://www.twitter.com/dbradfordhall">Coach Brad</a>, too, about performance anxiety and the pressure I felt. Easy conversations helped keep my butterflies from morphing into monsters. I used a few phrased to help myself get through the lead up time.<br />
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<i>"It's just pain."</i> I've been telling myself this for the past couple of weeks, mostly to calm my nerves. When I think about why I get anxious in the time leading up to races, it partially comes back fearing the pain that race brings about. Sure, no one likes to be in physical pain, and I know that I have many years of experience dealing with it. But the anticipation of it nags at me. So I spoke to myself directly about it. It's just pain. It's not fatal. I've survived it up until this point of my life. I will make it through no matter how badly it hurts.<br />
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<i>"Identify the problem. Make a decision. Move forward."</i> This is the strategy I try to take with me in any endurance race. We try to prepare so that problems do not arise during an event. We aim for a perfect day. But realistically, shit happens. The approach I've found works best for me is to figure out what's wrong (my stomach hurts or my legs are cramping or my sunscreen is getting in my eyes...etc), make a decision about it (do x or y), and keep going. Reevaluate if necessary. Indecision and wallowing don't get you through the miles. So I mentally prepped myself to be ready for this ID/decide/move strategy. And I definitely used it on Saturday.<br />
<i><br />
"Race hard. Make it hurt. It is for others."</i> Amazing words from Georgia Ironteam member <a href="http://www.twitter.com/ADHintheLab">Adam Heiser</a>. He donated to my fundraising page and left those thoughts in the comments section. They capture so much. I wrote this on my right leg right under my race shorts so that every time I pedaled, I could read it. I repeated it throughout the day.<br />
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<b>Race Morning</b>:<br />
Normally I'm a ball of nerves before the race. This time was a little different. Our schedule was methodical so I just approached each task individually (check bags one last time, meet team, ride bus, retrieve bike, check gear, set up transition) and staved off any overwhelming feelings. For the most part. I admittedly spent 5 minutes during the bus ride not fighting back some tears that I was probably harboring for the past couple of months. But other than that, all went smoothly.<br />
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My nerves that morning were channeled through my bladder - holy hypo-hydration! I was in the bathroom (or river) at least four times. That's not usual for me. And I learned a valuable lesson about dark port-a-johns that hopefully will save you in the future: The toilets have lids. Make sure the lids are up before you pee. Because if you don't, you will pee on your socks and shoes. You're welcome.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQDxGhYNhgWQKqW9bZYnmg_n0t-vQN5WPisG3juxZk8Rc3mfhQiheRCduEiVUcHBYw7R4ZFSgpFxoPOa-WZ0L15doCmHB6JPA_19zQE1X-7Bz7-xp8ts6KtWssbHIQNwV9D7fFlQBbLP03/s1600/735057-1002-0003s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQDxGhYNhgWQKqW9bZYnmg_n0t-vQN5WPisG3juxZk8Rc3mfhQiheRCduEiVUcHBYw7R4ZFSgpFxoPOa-WZ0L15doCmHB6JPA_19zQE1X-7Bz7-xp8ts6KtWssbHIQNwV9D7fFlQBbLP03/s400/735057-1002-0003s.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Saturday 5:15am. Time for a <a href="http://www.twitter.com/WetsuitAdv">Wetsuit Adventure</a> of sorts</center></i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF-sH9U_W78p5VueHlsBVrSwClI0KSeFoEE-n_A405-xJhHCjPYSjk8vYR23GVYR1K8kEgT2Tnq_mcxGpmhQSv6OvrOpCSe8vr_NzbO2GUqcpqZXKuu2itlmy2msK1DrNOn4iNnP_01p5r/s1600/T1+Oatmeal+Ready.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF-sH9U_W78p5VueHlsBVrSwClI0KSeFoEE-n_A405-xJhHCjPYSjk8vYR23GVYR1K8kEgT2Tnq_mcxGpmhQSv6OvrOpCSe8vr_NzbO2GUqcpqZXKuu2itlmy2msK1DrNOn4iNnP_01p5r/s640/T1+Oatmeal+Ready.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Oatmeal and his <a href="http://www.podiumwheelrentals.com/">rented wheels</a></center></i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrQ2GoWMsi3dHDVjT0VbBQBYgLPwQI0DzI_gwrDtY3AaxpI46rm92PJVyCX7xyScNUZKM5AC7JYRMIqqUPB2REYajJvYH_jrqAhsTPmNF39gSxosv0ZnSRuWtOICWg57A3flzCKcxd-dpm/s1600/Waiting+Swim.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrQ2GoWMsi3dHDVjT0VbBQBYgLPwQI0DzI_gwrDtY3AaxpI46rm92PJVyCX7xyScNUZKM5AC7JYRMIqqUPB2REYajJvYH_jrqAhsTPmNF39gSxosv0ZnSRuWtOICWg57A3flzCKcxd-dpm/s640/Waiting+Swim.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Some final tunes</center></i><br />
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After finalizing my area, checking my brakes for rubbing and going for a warm up jog, I hung around with our team at the edge of the water. A quick warm up swim and a few last minute hugs were in order. Oddly, my heart rate never rose in anticipation of a long and grueling day. I stayed very calm, probably in denial that today would be as long as it was. My teammate Marissa and I waded into the water together and hung out before our wave went off. No fireworks, no big count down. Just the announcer sending us off.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmS-k9xdBpiri_MM4rgDrhIUfSaIug3OjSea4gAiQsxZIeUFdEuc53NY2xiJawW-II0K3v7-rHkfTg1FMUYBoUcV-Op9X0MIJzAmrbUyaa8kvQqdRpNnj6C57g4sLfZIkmUTQZ65evlLkr/s1600/em-dave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmS-k9xdBpiri_MM4rgDrhIUfSaIug3OjSea4gAiQsxZIeUFdEuc53NY2xiJawW-II0K3v7-rHkfTg1FMUYBoUcV-Op9X0MIJzAmrbUyaa8kvQqdRpNnj6C57g4sLfZIkmUTQZ65evlLkr/s640/em-dave.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Good luck hug from Coach Dave. Marissa's Disney princess hair stealing our moment</center></i><br />
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<b>Swim</b>:<br />
The swim is a two-loop out and back section of the Russian River. You swim against the current going out, and with the current coming back. Man, that turnaround buoy seemed so far away! It was only 0.6 miles away ... but it felt like an eternity! I suppose that was slightly due to said current (because the way back felt faster). I got elbowed and kicked a couple times - expected. But I found my rhythm quickly, and the only thing that threw my off is that it felt like I was swimming through hair. Yes, hair. I kept lifting my arm up and looking underwater to see if i was bringing along a glut of seaweed with me. But I saw nothing. Just felt this creepy sensation (particularly up river) that I had spiderwebs caught on my arms and face. Gross.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3H2HRZMHgg7rzzUlsKqe3ba9JqbAISYltYLORChgxs_iX8u_Hzh5-7NAkXqQIpzE_3se6_SU4VdmFF_CHIp9Yt9pwDTGPyP4bwPuLg1ygchvJ1jxt1nqPxWi4090pQasQJoINPnBl2DPm/s1600/Swim+Map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3H2HRZMHgg7rzzUlsKqe3ba9JqbAISYltYLORChgxs_iX8u_Hzh5-7NAkXqQIpzE_3se6_SU4VdmFF_CHIp9Yt9pwDTGPyP4bwPuLg1ygchvJ1jxt1nqPxWi4090pQasQJoINPnBl2DPm/s400/Swim+Map.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>My GPS report of the swim</center></i><br />
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Made the full loop turn for one more out-and-back. Peeked at my watch. Felt like 60mins, but was only 35. Swim, kick, swim, kick, all the way down and back. Second time seemed shorter and soon I was heading toward the Swim out arch. Popped up, got my barring and went on my way. My teammate and amazing photographer, Pai, saw me first and cheered me on. Moments later, at the wetsuit strip station, my other teammates were yelling for me.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiaSLXjF__JQu8Kc-cD8966iXoMaX3yTsbant5ZEIXMvxTnXEPlV5Ssy4Ww2FVJhPIhyphenhyphenXM1zXFS2wppQZA8OmFE6TvvQlRcIUh80NH0rVQhupcxh4VIlCQcj_livq6sLWlBVqbXXfwv9rQ/s1600/735061-1008-0039s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiaSLXjF__JQu8Kc-cD8966iXoMaX3yTsbant5ZEIXMvxTnXEPlV5Ssy4Ww2FVJhPIhyphenhyphenXM1zXFS2wppQZA8OmFE6TvvQlRcIUh80NH0rVQhupcxh4VIlCQcj_livq6sLWlBVqbXXfwv9rQ/s400/735061-1008-0039s.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>One sport down. Two to go.</center></i><br />
Swim Time: 1:10:26<br />
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<b>T1</b>:<br />
Things you rarely hear from strangers on a Saturday morning: Volunteer, "Can I help you lube up?" Me, "You know, I think I'm all set." She decided helping me sunscreen was a little less invasive. I wanted to improve on my 10-minute transition from IMCDA '10. So I sped through my checklist, only forgetting to wash my feet with my water bottle. A dirty towel casualty but it worked well enough. I racked at the end of the setup, right next to the rug leading to Bike Out. So soon enough, I was on my way.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikCDLrbyJDpXzNS71eqE6s33ufAMVMocFd3xTmNQ7c3MYSL1-FnvCjBuvRIOU41Al4pFGWjTYb9-N9Sr1i1EXAO0F63c0f4iH6lLiM3BBQBy4uS_fV4-1aJGVeYPLive-D9587OWEt08GF/s1600/735064-1008-0011s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikCDLrbyJDpXzNS71eqE6s33ufAMVMocFd3xTmNQ7c3MYSL1-FnvCjBuvRIOU41Al4pFGWjTYb9-N9Sr1i1EXAO0F63c0f4iH6lLiM3BBQBy4uS_fV4-1aJGVeYPLive-D9587OWEt08GF/s400/735064-1008-0011s.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>PR'd my transition! Never thought that would happen</center></i><br />
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Transition Time: 4:36<br />
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<b>Bike</b>: The theme of the Vineman bike for me was gambling. I didn't set out to gamble. I set out to 'race my plan' as Coach Dave and I had chatted about. I aimed to keep my pace between 17.5-18.5 mph for the first loop, which would hopefully ensure fresh legs for the second half and for the run. Play it safe.<br />
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But once I got out among the vineyards, I changed my plan. This was partially fueled by the wheels I was riding. I'd decided to rent some Zipp 808s from <a href="http://www.podiumwheelrentals.com/">Podium Wheel Rentals</a> (which, by the way, I HIGHLY recommend. The owner, Tony, is a great guy and did everything he could to make sure my bike and the wheels were in top shape before the race). I didn't rent them because I wanted to win by any means. But, as Holly put it, "Whatever will get you off the bike sooner." Hey, the less I have to sit there and pedal, the better. So I rented them and figured I'd buy some speed. Oh boy, did they feel great! I felt lighter and faster with the same effort I normally grind along in. I hadn't ridden with these wheels before, so it took me a few miles to adjust to handling them (ie - you need to be more mindful and gripping of the steering), but I easily fell in love with the discs by mile 15.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc58oF4Qj1qnPCGtm5I-W4kEWETmuwoAACWjLoejXENWZXXgEVsi7CfUm15TV4sWyGmRoC6HAh7l3wIR0QRFYWd1joC9T-lZ_o-AeGrYdRJMIofUZduzMQKaJ8s8tcvCGyx9GtpS_JWQ3g/s1600/735065-1006-0001s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc58oF4Qj1qnPCGtm5I-W4kEWETmuwoAACWjLoejXENWZXXgEVsi7CfUm15TV4sWyGmRoC6HAh7l3wIR0QRFYWd1joC9T-lZ_o-AeGrYdRJMIofUZduzMQKaJ8s8tcvCGyx9GtpS_JWQ3g/s400/735065-1006-0001s.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>All morning these guys would pass me on the bike</center></i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwvzkvQyEAMCK7HY-qpfDwti_i3dIwVuu6wsngDcSvkIFeeORF8cq0l0SZ9NLw7yY7Tf7czK2Klo0Vq14XRZ6LQE4_z7ejKHmhtkzUEpTEGa9RQT0onz3FQvVjjBM38UE3b2AUOo3CrIZ2/s1600/735069-1043-0032s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwvzkvQyEAMCK7HY-qpfDwti_i3dIwVuu6wsngDcSvkIFeeORF8cq0l0SZ9NLw7yY7Tf7czK2Klo0Vq14XRZ6LQE4_z7ejKHmhtkzUEpTEGa9RQT0onz3FQvVjjBM38UE3b2AUOo3CrIZ2/s400/735069-1043-0032s.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Trying not to chase the stranger</center></i><br />
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So, me and Oatmeal and the new wheels arbitrarily decided to go for my 'A-Race" / non-conservative time which in my head was two 3-hour loops, an 18.6mph average for each. I very well knew during the ride that I was pushing pretty hard without the safety-net-knowledge that I could run a consistent and 4:30-ish marathon after this bike. Every couple of minutes, I reminded myself of our coaches words, "Chess not Checkers" meaning that this wasn't a balls-to-the-wall race to win here. Every move you make in the swim and the bike sets you up for the run. Be strategic.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyc3-9vvi5vGaAxEL4O4a28rv7L6DzR9CmGXT0zcvXbmAoecp_SuMC264NIJFfpiI5rZl2iYBncMGVEza7unA9Ekn5SJQgDC7rOTKqwpvsanN_t4h0DnqaksPQb-1OoCfkHG4lg5I5jB02/s1600/735070-1013-0012s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyc3-9vvi5vGaAxEL4O4a28rv7L6DzR9CmGXT0zcvXbmAoecp_SuMC264NIJFfpiI5rZl2iYBncMGVEza7unA9Ekn5SJQgDC7rOTKqwpvsanN_t4h0DnqaksPQb-1OoCfkHG4lg5I5jB02/s400/735070-1013-0012s.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I chugged through the first section of the course - River Rd and Dry Creek - all alone. Some of the faster guys with aero helmets whizzed by me and I fought to keep my cool and not chase. One guy who saw my leg pedaled by and said, "29 and looking fine!" which made me laugh. After climbing Canyon Road - which I didn't realize was a climb so I started to get worried my brakes were rubbing or my legs were shot - I descended into Geyserville. Rode by Jason and Dave at mile 28 - quick cheers from them. Onto Route 128 and eventually Chalk Hill. <br />
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I didn't see anyone I knew for a long time. All I saw was a slew of 40- and 50-year old men speeding past me. I'd chase them for a minute, and then return to my "Checkers not Chess" mantra. I saw one woman pass me too. I didn't have a death wish to chase her, so again, I sat back and rode.<br />
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Chalk Hill is a .75-mile climb at mile 44 and mile 100. I knew my teammates would be there at the top to cheer us all up. Unfortunately, I arrived a little too early and they had hit traffic getting there from the swim location. So up and over Chalk Hill I went to the clapping of a few strangers. I didn't have any problems on the climb, and a few miles of a descent that followed it cheered me up. More rollers through the last section of the loop. <br />
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As I pulled into mile 56 at Windsor High School, I saw a crowd on the sidewalk. And there was my teammate Lindsay cheering me on. It was a little moment that boosted me up big time. Arrived at Special Needs (mile 57) and saw Holly standing across the road. Can't remember our conversation other than I felt okay and proceeded to shove a ball of salted rice into my mouth. A great break from my Cliff Bar bite every 20 minutes. Unbeknownst to me, she was updating facebook and twitter all day with my progress for my friends. That was cool to come back to and read after the race.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFnRBE9BQkpucj8U1-vh87zFfJRhZInBmF8KmcdXUqbayBOBhBGkzrpq4yd7TPYCVHI-BO-PRtE_06JLfzZF7wcMj9FKDHqcssy1mZgI2fwXMdYrLkBvvqi2UxpoUp_Z6cxp5esDrA_8DM/s1600/Bike+Sp+Needs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFnRBE9BQkpucj8U1-vh87zFfJRhZInBmF8KmcdXUqbayBOBhBGkzrpq4yd7TPYCVHI-BO-PRtE_06JLfzZF7wcMj9FKDHqcssy1mZgI2fwXMdYrLkBvvqi2UxpoUp_Z6cxp5esDrA_8DM/s400/Bike+Sp+Needs.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Shoveling a rice ball and quietly celebrating the end of loop one</center></i><br />
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About 15 miles after special needs, I saw two sets of Cheer Squads - in superhero costumes - along some lonely stretches of the course. Not only were they cheering me up, but a few riders thanked me for bringing 'the cool kids out on the course'. I can't say that I went to a 'dark place' during the race, but if I were to pinpoint my low moments, they were here on the second loop. 1) The rough roads started to piss me off. Very few sections of the ride were paved smoothly. Mostly, it was pitted, pocked asphalt that rumbled under the tires. After 3+ hours of trying to steer on the smoothest parts of the grooved road, I was cranky.<br />
<br />
Speaking of cranky, my neck and left shoulder were exactly that. I'd been riding mostly in aero and straining my neck. I had to keep rubbing my shoulder so it wouldn't mutiny on me.<br />
<br />
And then there was my stomach's refusal of Gatorade around mile 85. I had grabbed the lemon-lime drink at an aid station right before mile 85 (Geyserville, where Jason and Dave were waiting). I drank it without a problem for a while. But as I approached the station, I took the last two sips to finish the bottle and prep for grabbing a replacement. Those sips kind of doomed me. My stomach went sour immediately. It hurt enough that I couldn't get back in aero. Cramped, bloated, uncomfortable. So, I made a decision - water and solids only if I could help it. Kept going.<br />
<br />
That pretty much worked. After an hour, my stomach settled. My legs were getting tired and I was ready to be done with the bike. I looked forward to getting up Chalk Hill again because it meant I'd get some downhills and be heading into transition soon. Coach Amy was standing at the aid station before the hill - great to see her! She yelled something about being number 2, but I wasn't sure what she meant and I was tired, so I just kept going. Luckily, the cheer squad was working their magic the second time I arrived. So amazing to see them in costume and running up the hill as we biked. I high fived them, got to the top and sped down and away. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_H-DlD2s0WQU18PSnZJOlG7ez5frqF_AlWlP-4CFBN6uq_OKQeuIC6xkEVS9bRIgpfNMShqvkfawRWzGml93gTzc9F4XJ87yuo_gAi-NprNsfLhbqGuTfVK9ayCMA0vzOudoG5w2oN7bo/s1600/Chalk+Hill+Bike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_H-DlD2s0WQU18PSnZJOlG7ez5frqF_AlWlP-4CFBN6uq_OKQeuIC6xkEVS9bRIgpfNMShqvkfawRWzGml93gTzc9F4XJ87yuo_gAi-NprNsfLhbqGuTfVK9ayCMA0vzOudoG5w2oN7bo/s400/Chalk+Hill+Bike.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Excited to see my teammates!</center></i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz39ZVLiCQENToZlKtZnJUK54ToVSL9Zx7TOyvW7e_aLr_mF3KtgnQqbE0EaR4nYNZ_pXplg7uOIhW5PEM5wvk4EIBaEg9xueKBzqf1UlOniFwT-CeQ15y5gGfCi88VuI5NL4GTnQhLXKo/s1600/Chalk+Hill+Cheers+Squad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz39ZVLiCQENToZlKtZnJUK54ToVSL9Zx7TOyvW7e_aLr_mF3KtgnQqbE0EaR4nYNZ_pXplg7uOIhW5PEM5wvk4EIBaEg9xueKBzqf1UlOniFwT-CeQ15y5gGfCi88VuI5NL4GTnQhLXKo/s400/Chalk+Hill+Cheers+Squad.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Lindsay and Pete and the best cheerers ever</center></i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkFZGYSlQgJ3Iyj2ERW1VuFu7TCgdrUKMgHs5GXnu0QZL_srTCxGab3taALWUNmRdk3v-9tfjPCd4wiQm2lNbywFxT5W-2PD749gNLyyn1sH92LWPFcuH6bMFEoGIwzmLwzVGK3KzGdL7r/s1600/Never+Give+Up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkFZGYSlQgJ3Iyj2ERW1VuFu7TCgdrUKMgHs5GXnu0QZL_srTCxGab3taALWUNmRdk3v-9tfjPCd4wiQm2lNbywFxT5W-2PD749gNLyyn1sH92LWPFcuH6bMFEoGIwzmLwzVGK3KzGdL7r/s400/Never+Give+Up.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Jared wearing my new favorite T-shirt</center></i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4m_I_wmswAZd6FeroGt1FhxMc8qigEDSrMBCgNeDx3_-LXAZQJvPuNPVr8nTp1U_HcCjg1UbmiUXg-CawreGVUHLkU8j_iLaynKm1Jg0UjlIkZIrw4GWHJtXkSTee8vByW3Q63L8Yop_-/s1600/Cheer+CHalk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4m_I_wmswAZd6FeroGt1FhxMc8qigEDSrMBCgNeDx3_-LXAZQJvPuNPVr8nTp1U_HcCjg1UbmiUXg-CawreGVUHLkU8j_iLaynKm1Jg0UjlIkZIrw4GWHJtXkSTee8vByW3Q63L8Yop_-/s400/Cheer+CHalk.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Cheer Squad with one of my teammates</center></i><br />
<br />
Saw another section of cheerers a few miles later. Coach Brad screamed words of encouragement and off I climbed on the last little hill (Faught Rd, I think). An easy 2-mile downhill into town after. Before hitting downtown, I saw <a href="http://www.twitter.com/em_jay_oh">Megan </a>and <a href="http://www.twitter.com/907girl">Bobbi </a>cheering. They, too, yelled, "You're number 2" as I passed by. I assumed that meant either I was in second for women, for my age group or for Team in Training participants. Since I was alone almost the entire second loop of the bike (a few guys around, and only two girls), I had no idea where I was in the field. Nor did I care. I didn't show up to race, so I just stayed focus on holding off the pain and fatigue as long as possible. I decided that I'd put placement thoughts aside and just stay within myself.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsm8CAe3NV0Nuwud8W2AUvefEZ2riqvEoS0k6JuKw5NS5SVuO8_r0pjGKPuUTx4JBHkdnTSdMqXSCCvarv5NUdoX2JDCK6W-KxaXWBZT-sy5KHOLtkmsCfQavlN5KARkbOnIfodz7vbYt/s1600/735063-1004-0014s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsm8CAe3NV0Nuwud8W2AUvefEZ2riqvEoS0k6JuKw5NS5SVuO8_r0pjGKPuUTx4JBHkdnTSdMqXSCCvarv5NUdoX2JDCK6W-KxaXWBZT-sy5KHOLtkmsCfQavlN5KARkbOnIfodz7vbYt/s400/735063-1004-0014s.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>That smile says: "Oh my god get me off this bike! I'm chaffing! I just peed on this bike 10 minutes ago and I really want to change my socks!</center></i><br />
<br />
By mile 112, I was ready to be done with the race. But there were plenty of miles to go. I pulled up to the dismount line and breathed out, "It's about time." Another watch glimpse showed I'd pretty much met my A-goal. For better or worse. I had no idea how this run would go.<br />
<br />
Bike Time: 6:01:22<br />
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<b>T2</b>: The jog from bike in to my actual transition area took about a minute in bike shoes. I heard Holly yell to remind me where I'd set up my Mario Kart cinch bag the day before. Once found, I dumped the contents, made some quick decisions (no new shorts, definitely new socks, no hydration belt, yes nutrition belt, OMG I need vaseline stat!) and got all dressed up for the final legs of the race. She pointed me to the Run Out arch and reminded me to pour water over my head at every aid station and to stick to my interval. As I jogged forward I registered that my Achilles were not on fire, as I anticipated. Happy to be on two feet instead of two wheels! <br />
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Transition Time: 4:52<br />
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<b>Run</b>: It was a happy run. That's pretty much it. Three loops out and back through some farmlands and vineyards. Less hilly than I remember it being when we ran this course on training weekend six weeks ago. I completed my first loop feeling pretty great. I knew I couldn't have the Gatorade, so I stuck with water, cola and a few shot blocks. In hindsight I could have eaten a little more to ward of some cramping at mile 21. And thanks to my teammate <a href="http://www.anabelcapalbo.wordpress.com/">Anabel </a>for suggesting we carry ice in ours hands to keep our temperatures down. I carried ice for more than half of the run. Every aid station (each mile or so) I'd refill. Lifesaver move!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9iC5C7w0pNk8_iTJwhXh7uz4np2HY5Nm0GRlznZvU-NNIBhntTyCxba0ZgzORD78w-OXLVrYg-GPv-XCtrZovb4OTDDzqc7NLSs_DEW-kUGItdsO1AD4HTVe8cMrsveQtIsjPjKdPoSyv/s1600/735068-1007-0046s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9iC5C7w0pNk8_iTJwhXh7uz4np2HY5Nm0GRlznZvU-NNIBhntTyCxba0ZgzORD78w-OXLVrYg-GPv-XCtrZovb4OTDDzqc7NLSs_DEW-kUGItdsO1AD4HTVe8cMrsveQtIsjPjKdPoSyv/s400/735068-1007-0046s.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLxZoQQMJqMRMZAQlCzvP95vRTe9iAymuAcAszKTvXFZwTI1EurLnJy3Ugju-j6Z85n7_1YV1p-T2BxaSFgKPFTOP_-AxXZodNV2FVJK3qJVsnOvaaEeCUUqEPfdoROy0YIn3Hdqyt8lRp/s1600/735068-1007-0050s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLxZoQQMJqMRMZAQlCzvP95vRTe9iAymuAcAszKTvXFZwTI1EurLnJy3Ugju-j6Z85n7_1YV1p-T2BxaSFgKPFTOP_-AxXZodNV2FVJK3qJVsnOvaaEeCUUqEPfdoROy0YIn3Hdqyt8lRp/s400/735068-1007-0050s.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsamxYbpBzmyZufQ_8aWcklSW5o1SWzLRrektvRm5oAfzw_U6jjgMVQPLHIO9uO6AZWvW5nPon09n3VXFTthYVF7nqVvywLb6Wc5zkZ_CubC-PIq5LomDq3Pq0D4oKFAoHCgBVuH6EyePn/s1600/735074-1020-0021s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsamxYbpBzmyZufQ_8aWcklSW5o1SWzLRrektvRm5oAfzw_U6jjgMVQPLHIO9uO6AZWvW5nPon09n3VXFTthYVF7nqVvywLb6Wc5zkZ_CubC-PIq5LomDq3Pq0D4oKFAoHCgBVuH6EyePn/s400/735074-1020-0021s.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Happy runner!</center></i><br />
<br />
The cheer squad appeared on my second loop, and having a group of friends to loop forward to seeing - at the finish and at the middle of the loop - was invaluable. Since I don't normally race with people I know in the crowd, the whole spectator-cheering-for-me concept was a little new. But it was so great, and I'm really grateful they made the trip up and staying all day (16+ hours) to cheer us all on.<br />
<br />
I ticked off each mile steadily, my pace hovering between 9:20-10min/mile. I walked the hills I needed to, and walked through the aid stations. Other than that, just kept moving forward. I was in great spirits, laughing and smiling and chatting with the volunteers. I returned back to town to start the final loop. I eyed the race clock (total time) for the first time all day. It read 10:13:15. I did some quick math. I had 1hr50mins to go about 8.5 miles. I figured if I didn't blow up, I had a shot at a sub-12hr time. In the least, I felt pretty confident I'd best my IM CDA time (12:42).<br />
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Out on the last lap and despite the miles behind me, I still felt good. It wasn't until mile 21 when I hit a steep hill that my left quad screamed with a cramp and I went dead stop. Uh-oh.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbEX1u08_e9i9nNxE1AL9evcpPWSWCkwKb6l5seeTB6XET341eXSeNev9lHKNu8pcO-sJOQBDTCrq_hv35BRJSSFQRSC35EYdP9Bfr5j0Fn0cnrRBwywYCE0-3CE_bWdmoH6ud7EQvZzyr/s1600/735073-1035-0037s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbEX1u08_e9i9nNxE1AL9evcpPWSWCkwKb6l5seeTB6XET341eXSeNev9lHKNu8pcO-sJOQBDTCrq_hv35BRJSSFQRSC35EYdP9Bfr5j0Fn0cnrRBwywYCE0-3CE_bWdmoH6ud7EQvZzyr/s400/735073-1035-0037s.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Decidedly less happy runner. Muscle mutiny imminent</center></i><br />
<br />
I was with my teammate Lisa, and she handed me some salt pills. It was too late for them to do me any good then, but I swallowed them anyway. I gritted my teeth and walked through the cramp. Okay, so this is the pain I had been fearing. Hurts like hell, but it's manageable. After a few minutes the seizing ceased. But for those last 5 miles, my body crept toward the edge of total spasm. Calves, quads, hamstrings, ankles even! I made it to the turnaround for the last time (4.8 miles to go!) and headed to the finish. I passed the cheer squad and asked Bobbi to text someone at the finish line that I'd be arriving with all of my cramps ready to take over.I adjusted my gait and slowed my pace just a little. I'd see some Ironteammers from San Francisco, or some of my own teammates, and would cheer them on at a whisper or give a thumbs up. Things were turning south for me and I needed to finish soon.<br />
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Still clocking 9:50-10min/miles when I made it to mile 25. I was taking an interval walk break when Brad saw me and yelled at me to run. So I did. Well, I hobbled. Down the street and toward the finish. I took a minute during that stretch to let it hit me that this journey was over. My breathing hitched a bit but I kept my head about me and motored on. My quad cramped with 0.4 miles left to go. I grabbed it with my left hand and kept running. Hell if that quad was gonna make me stay out there any longer! Two turns through a throng of spectators and suddenly I was alongside my teammates <a href="http://www.twitter.com/clare802">Clare</a>, <a href="http://www.twitter.com/riz412">Riz</a>, <a href="http://www.twitter.com/ewallerscott">EWS </a>and Raul. Had to delicately negotiate a speed bump with almost-cramped legs. Approached the volunteer directing folks either to the turnaround or the finish. I told him that I was heading to that finish and he high fived me along. Heard my name, ran as best I could, and crossed the line. My Campaign Director Rachel was standing there to medal me. And then Jason and Dave on either side welcoming me in. Kind of a perfect end to the season.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRjQ9SFPSLZojmwApOiH-iV7b8AphPH7VvxDVmT4KSvaY-zeDrVkpdfddXQErzAIBy17iu5MwRC_QbMGcL8LpL2nIunSE3MwMEp6y7MldjKTA8NmdeS84giDnDB9uobfPYlmym-R4WoVWB/s1600/735076-1037-0018s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRjQ9SFPSLZojmwApOiH-iV7b8AphPH7VvxDVmT4KSvaY-zeDrVkpdfddXQErzAIBy17iu5MwRC_QbMGcL8LpL2nIunSE3MwMEp6y7MldjKTA8NmdeS84giDnDB9uobfPYlmym-R4WoVWB/s400/735076-1037-0018s.jpg" /></a><center><i>Down the finisher's chute</center></i><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUpjrjr0ixn7Uebe2BQ8JEWrh_ETOOggUNHOZ-t99NL7dHrWdjU8r8d_8FQeCTwwMrG4fJR5o0ouhkmibxApS-bR8z5iUDjnIKXRzdi0IwL7JE_6r5ar0Px7JPouWk2vUMR58RWTm7S6cw/s1600/735081-1007-0011s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUpjrjr0ixn7Uebe2BQ8JEWrh_ETOOggUNHOZ-t99NL7dHrWdjU8r8d_8FQeCTwwMrG4fJR5o0ouhkmibxApS-bR8z5iUDjnIKXRzdi0IwL7JE_6r5ar0Px7JPouWk2vUMR58RWTm7S6cw/s400/735081-1007-0011s.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Stupid Happy Finish Grin</center></i><br />
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Run Time: 4:17:24<br />
<br />
Finish Time: 11:38:39<br />
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By the numbers, I improved over IMCDA by 64 minutes: 7min on the swim, 5min in T1, 42min on bike, another 5min in T2 and 5min on the run. Oddly enough, I thought more 'went wrong' here than at CDA. Stomachache, sore neck and cramping. But no matter, it all worked out fine. <br />
<br />
The race continued for hours. I called my parents, ate some chicken soup, and cheered in all of my teammates. In the time between finishers we swapped stories and hugs and I checked my phone to see a billion great messages from friends and family. One in particular, some emails from my Dad, made me laugh. He started this string of emails about 45mins before I crossed the finish line. He and my mom were tracking me on the Vineman site from back home in CT. These made me laugh.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg4xJ-8qBbxIEST-r41I-ekOARvN2kjBeZ_4s2Y_CJr2xT3K9v-cEAl3_FmsabL8X6-RhPc17pTgyzanjakyLuJpFkmsxJ-W5H65w3B5_Cx1uyU9dNtd6NS7ZcRJp42xNDa6hHlDflsX8s/s1600/Dad+Email.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg4xJ-8qBbxIEST-r41I-ekOARvN2kjBeZ_4s2Y_CJr2xT3K9v-cEAl3_FmsabL8X6-RhPc17pTgyzanjakyLuJpFkmsxJ-W5H65w3B5_Cx1uyU9dNtd6NS7ZcRJp42xNDa6hHlDflsX8s/s400/Dad+Email.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Click to enlarge</center></i><br />
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Yeah, I finished second in my age group (25-29) and the 9th female overall. Cool? Sure. Do I want to train harder to 'up' those placements? Hmmm...I appreciate balance, so I think the answer is 'not right now.' <br />
<br />
Once the clock wound down to 16hrs 30mins, 11:00pm, the Ironteam got together for one last photo and cheer. Transition bags and bikes retrieved. Car loaded. Headed to the hotel. And with that ... the season ended.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZP18ukwkeJwbl6ZsnfUiDPxayI3efmUcPuCCxR39TfKf4Nwv_-hkDRIpi0-_0FdtDcn8wMMDHmJikxS4X79Qg4rfDrx8sJIFCWkpcPglQLiR7opFqm01y_C_jf3eOZhmUBf6lSzIk4uJu/s1600/Tunnel+of+Love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZP18ukwkeJwbl6ZsnfUiDPxayI3efmUcPuCCxR39TfKf4Nwv_-hkDRIpi0-_0FdtDcn8wMMDHmJikxS4X79Qg4rfDrx8sJIFCWkpcPglQLiR7opFqm01y_C_jf3eOZhmUBf6lSzIk4uJu/s400/Tunnel+of+Love.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Tunnel of Love for Tiffany</center></i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPmVYpomxIXVrKompDtUeRbVbTqyUvpiXHujIJJOSvJepaXUQaMAXrvKkvwLnBb7sVvHuLOT2j61SW_PMafN38sl-TfwHi0iz9-OQmXwzVQP_GyMHD-tXKlW7FOEiB3-OhUL61ncWsX8b/s1600/Final+Cheer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPmVYpomxIXVrKompDtUeRbVbTqyUvpiXHujIJJOSvJepaXUQaMAXrvKkvwLnBb7sVvHuLOT2j61SW_PMafN38sl-TfwHi0iz9-OQmXwzVQP_GyMHD-tXKlW7FOEiB3-OhUL61ncWsX8b/s400/Final+Cheer.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Final 'Go Team!'</center></i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje2KfNfEcgcIY5sGR-yXF-VVFP2L7jdK5n_Dpm0DIM-I5fje63d54VdFcYmN572_lktwy2am_udog1oF9MxBb78W2mqrG4lEz2ypWJ8S80XmOCIGPnwdaVBqTu9Gyu5uuJ8ThgEUvTFeIQ/s1600/Team+Finish+Line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje2KfNfEcgcIY5sGR-yXF-VVFP2L7jdK5n_Dpm0DIM-I5fje63d54VdFcYmN572_lktwy2am_udog1oF9MxBb78W2mqrG4lEz2ypWJ8S80XmOCIGPnwdaVBqTu9Gyu5uuJ8ThgEUvTFeIQ/s400/Team+Finish+Line.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Final Photo Op</center></i><br />
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<b>Final Thoughts</b>: I believe you should get a starter's medal at the beginning of race day. Because making it to that start line, through the training and through the stress and through life in general, is a feat. It does not matter how fast you can propel yourself through 140.6 miles. To practice doing so over and over again for so many months in a row is deserving of its own award. Each one of my teammates - Wildflowers, CDAers and Vinemen, did this, regardless of what the clock said on race day.<br />
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I have sworn up and down that I'm not a triathlete. I still kind of don't think I am. I'm a bit of an imposter, a runner who happens to go to the pool a few times a week and a little kid who likes to climb mountains on a bike that costs more than most things I own. I'll concede, however, that I'm an adventurer and an endurance junkie. Okay, if my fun comes in three flavors like swim, bike and run ... well then, sure, call me the T word. I can get used to that.<br />
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Thank you everyone who cheered me on throughout the day. I read facebook and twitter and text messages on the ride home from the race, and they made me smile knowing that across the country there were people rooting for me to keep going.<br />
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Three years ago I was a very different kid. When I completed CDA, I knew I had done something life-changing. I had proven to myself that, with enough effort and desire, I could go after the things I wanted. No barriers. And in the years in between then and now, I realized that what I wanted was more balance in my life. More fun. More love. More kindness and charity. Cheesy, of course, but I stand by it. Perhaps my Vineman race time isn't 'proof' that I've accomplished those things. The clock doesn't measure your quality of life. But looking back on this season as a whole, with the race being a bookend to the whole journey, I am confident that I have made strides. After all, aren't these sports just one big metaphor for life? Year by year, you work hard to get a bit better. Well, I have. Cheers to progress and to the next adventure.<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-21282783184406633812013-07-22T12:24:00.001-07:002013-07-22T12:24:29.005-07:00Race BrainRace Brain. It happens often during the week prior to an event. Luckily, I don't race all that often, so I don't deal in this kind of stupidity frequently. But when I do approach an event weekend, inevitably the important parts of my brain take a quick holiday. My abilities to do math, read, sit still, make sound decisions and feed myself go on hiatus, and I end up in odd situations, like standing in my kitchen, staring at the microwave, trying to calculate arbitrary pace per mile stats or applying for jobs on crab-fishing fleets outside of Anchorage, AK.<br />
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I haven't felt the shadow of the impending event on me recently. The taper has felt normal, complete with heavy legs and odd knots in my quads. Since we're traveling north (by car) for this one, I don't have any added "pack for the plane" pressure. I was all good, humming along last week and this weekend without a race nerve in sight. Well, I thought I was but everyone around me may beg to differ. But last week was fun, and I had extra time to be social - go out during the week and on the weekend and after practice. Then yesterday had to come along and remind me that it's time to start thinking ahead to next weekend. <br />
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Before and after our wonderfully funny team send-off dinner, I began the packing process. I remember packing for IMCDA three years ago. I was clueless, but managed to get all my stuff together. I vividly remember having to sign off of twitter for the week, though, because I was so overwhelmed with race chatter. I didn't want to read or talk about it - it stressed me out. My living room became a tornado of gear and clothes. It all got thrown in a bag - and off I went.<br />
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This time - because I am with a team that is very methodical and specific and plan-oriented - I have a different approach. I have a list - a couple drafts of it. I have piles of things based on days and workouts. (We race on Saturday, but will work out multiple times Thursday and Friday). I have a lot of gear because we're driving and it all fits, so why not pack extra. <br />
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And so I sit and stare at this list that says things like, "Buy rice" and all I can think is, "Where do I get rice from? How does someone 'buy rice' as my list is suggesting that I do?" And suddenly I'm once again an amoeba of a being who, instead of understanding our national currency system and the logistics of a grocery store, chews on the dollar bills because they feel funny in your mouth.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglJow8HflfhkOI3U-gIQBpxVC5uRb3Lyvc1X00lenp0yYEgBIcq4KnKNT8pDlAWFOI8EpnD7s3tIitUEGo6ffMgYJAQ4B79CxdpPQR0ACRLMe-e7RCDB3oK8weEBPj2vtMpwwzd8mm4tfw/s1600/dumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglJow8HflfhkOI3U-gIQBpxVC5uRb3Lyvc1X00lenp0yYEgBIcq4KnKNT8pDlAWFOI8EpnD7s3tIitUEGo6ffMgYJAQ4B79CxdpPQR0ACRLMe-e7RCDB3oK8weEBPj2vtMpwwzd8mm4tfw/s400/dumb.jpg" /></a></div><br />
So I let my stress level - or, ants in my pants, as my friend calls it - rise. And in reaction, I turn my brain to something else completely random in avoidance. ("I could be a lumberjack. I like to be outside.") And the stress subsides. And then I turn back to the task at hand, which still hasn't gotten accomplished because of the mental ebb and flow that's been tidaling inside my head.<br />
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The coaches provided race notes and an itinerary for the weekend, which I read through this morning. Some people are comforted by knowing how a course is laid out (exact aid stations, hills, hot stretches, etc.) I'm finding out I am not one of these people. I like to know the macro view - where's the big hills? About how many miles to the aid station? What are they serving there? But reading through an extremely thorough (bravo to the coaches who compiled this!) description of the course did not do well for my race brain. I don't want to anticipate tough stretches because optimistically I hope that I won't have too many of them. I'm not being naive to think they won't happen. But I'd rather try to turn my focus on all the good that can happen instead of the suck.<br />
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In the moments I rise out of my own head and garner some perspective, I'm able to appreciate this experience (this season, this week, Saturday) for what it has been and will be for me. Keeping my expectations in check is something I've managed all season. I didn't train with individual improvement in mind. I trained with this group to learn how to coach swimming and biking and the entire trifecta together. That goal I think I achieved, and there is no medal or finish line for it. Saturday is for fun and a celebration of not only the training we've all done, but the fundraising impact we've made. Over $450,000 our team raised for <a href="http://www.lls.org/">LLS</a>. I won't win, but as long as I finish, then I won't call it a disappointment. I'll think of my friends, my friend, one of my heroes Fern (@sitbones) and all the choices I've made in life that have lead me to sitting on that bicycle seat for many, many hours. I look forward to the challenge and hope it's not too painful. But when the day drags on and my legs hurt or I'm low on energy and spirit, I can remind myself that it's just pain: it's temporary and it sucks. But it's just pain. Nothing new. Just that same old feeling to work through.<br />
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So hopefully Race Brain will recede soon and excited energy will take over. Full focus will turn onto the event on Wednesday. Until then, I have to use my race brain at work. Which is difficult enough in itself, and I'm considering bringing in this little champ as replacement for the rest of today and tomorrow. Not sure bosses would even know the difference.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkWxg6tJQXxG-cpax-qtN0zLKrbLlpomHbnsI8xouGxRssuiJjvYK88PxwqqbbqDsSCfGDlX4EMngK7-yNf4qtdwJXfnBt04GKnNzPzJZ6aH1vdmX6ZUAcOgyKJNwF5XsmKUqjZNEJ4-_g/s1600/irongoat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkWxg6tJQXxG-cpax-qtN0zLKrbLlpomHbnsI8xouGxRssuiJjvYK88PxwqqbbqDsSCfGDlX4EMngK7-yNf4qtdwJXfnBt04GKnNzPzJZ6aH1vdmX6ZUAcOgyKJNwF5XsmKUqjZNEJ4-_g/s400/irongoat.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>Don't worry Goofy, go do your race. I goat this.</center></i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-31548475463709595752013-07-02T22:53:00.001-07:002013-07-02T23:36:50.228-07:00Buckle Up Buttercup - Vineman 140.6 - July 2013 <b>“So this is the part where I’m supposed to tell you it’s not scary. Well, it is. But fear is natural, fear is good. It just means you’re growing.”</b> - unknown<br />
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It's not quite fear. It's not really nerves. Or even excitement or anticipation. I'm not sure it has a single word assigned to it in our language. It's the feeling you get when you've been doing something for so long that you forget it's part of a larger end goal, and that goal is finally in sight. Like when the captain of the plane wraps up the multi-hour flight with 'we've begun our initial descent' and you suddenly remember that you're on a plane heading toward a destination. You haven't been aimlessly floating in the giant metal bird without purpose.<br />
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That's what 25 days out from an Ironman triathlon feels like. It's time to store the electronics and return the tray tables to their upright and locked positions. And buckle up, Buttercup, the fasten seatbelt sign is on.<br />
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We officially started this season on November 2nd of last year. But with unofficial preseason workouts, meetings and planning sessions, we are well over 8 months into this endeavor. I've never training for anything this long. And never spent so much training time with...people. Other than just me and my brain. My previous races of this distance - iron and ultra - were 22 and 20 weeks respectively. One ultra with a buddy. The other ultra and one Ironman alone. So being in week 35 of the same training program is a little odd. On the one hand, the amount of dedicated time is comforting - I damn sure know I've put in the training. But on the other hand - it's startling to realize we actually have to take the race-day test soon. <br />
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Maybe it's in my head now because I got to see the majority of my teammates compete and complete <a href="http://www.ironman.com/triathlon/events/ironman/coeur-dalene.aspx">Ironman Coeur d'Alene</a> last weekend. Whirlwind tour of beautiful Idaho. A wonderful race exhibiting some extremely determined people. Walked away from that trip very impressed by the group. My friends became Ironmen for their first and second time. A few were halted by the clock, but are still some of the most inspiring and determined folks I've ever met.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsF9iHEHJrGrgRwK4Vuck0cAs1eOpFJhMUKEdJZ-RL7bNqhnNyIpLMXnZJ7HJubFw95oTuA3H4dYRxoKX7WNUqEHS0wXzA00c9BoCQMjPyyIDHL7s1aBkVKXGrap_juRQQHAhrBQn2bHJB/s734/Photo+Jun+19,+1+57+44+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsF9iHEHJrGrgRwK4Vuck0cAs1eOpFJhMUKEdJZ-RL7bNqhnNyIpLMXnZJ7HJubFw95oTuA3H4dYRxoKX7WNUqEHS0wXzA00c9BoCQMjPyyIDHL7s1aBkVKXGrap_juRQQHAhrBQn2bHJB/s734/Photo+Jun+19,+1+57+44+PM.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>A visual summary of the fun this season</i></center><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilWaIjAm040Wz82Gex6zCfhtJYf57CfGx7QTR0Ucm2g_p8tDVQ2p3jsAYeTkFETKr9C9KQ-PtgAnAzPYU9z8xfzr7PBOl6aZn-oG_FBeZLFMVmUXJoQqdhnsHwnbA7p0L26Slo8sqpYoqw/s692/CDA+Lake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilWaIjAm040Wz82Gex6zCfhtJYf57CfGx7QTR0Ucm2g_p8tDVQ2p3jsAYeTkFETKr9C9KQ-PtgAnAzPYU9z8xfzr7PBOl6aZn-oG_FBeZLFMVmUXJoQqdhnsHwnbA7p0L26Slo8sqpYoqw/s692/CDA+Lake.jpg" /></a></div><center><i>With my fellow Coaches and Campaign Manager in Lake Coeur d'Alene. 3 years and a day after after a 2.4-mile swim. Surreal.</i></center><br />
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And now the lens turns to the remaining 14 <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TNTIronTeamLA?ref=ts&fref=ts">Greater Los Angeles Ironteam</a> racers - the Vinemen. We've got our two biggest weekends of the season lined up. This weekend is a 100-mile ride and short transition run on Saturday. And then an ocean swim (somewhere in the 2-mile range) and a 20-mile run on Sunday. The following week is our mega-brick, 5hrs of riding and 3hrs of running on Saturday. And then another ocean swim and double-digit run on Sunday. Top of the mountain! We'll recover for a week and taper into the race day on <a href="http://www.vineman.com/triathlon.htm">July 27th</a>.<br />
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I'm as happy-as-a-hamster-on-a-wheel working out for hours. So, barring nutrition or heat fails, it will be an enjoyable climb to the top of this mountain. But I'm also looking forward to our recovery and taper. This season did not go as expected. The demands of my day job shifted dramatically this spring, and a lot of the time I had allotted to balancing my life disappeared. I have done the best I can to handle. And my friends have weathered my complaints and frustrations. The tiny dance parties I held at the beginning of the season are long gone. I miss having downtime, laughing a lot, and having fun outside of the sports world. I'm weary. But everyone who trains for events this extreme deals with these sacrifices. And it's worth it in the end. I have raised funds in good cause, met a whole group of wonderful people, and gotten to do things I never thought I would.<br />
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In these last-stretch in-betweens, when the people I talk to daily grow tired of my work grips and my waning enthusiasm... I watch this video. I first learned about <a href="http://www.waronals.com/about_jon.php">John Blais</a> from "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Life-Without-Limits-Autobiography-ebook/dp/B005EM8NQ2">A Life Without Limits</a>" - Chrissie Wellington's autobiography. And while I swear I've had my tear ducts removed, this story gets me every time.<br />
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<center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/9Vrjp2P0GlE" width="420"></iframe></center><br />
When you are sitting on an airplane and going through turbulence, there is something oddly comforting when you look across the aisle and see that your fellow passengers are right there - jangled along - with you. No one is comfortable. No one enjoys the stress. But everyone is in the same situation, just dealing with it. I watch this video and I feel connected. John achieved his Ironman status in the face of the debilitating disease that would eventually take his life. I cannot fathom his pain, but I try to channel his courage. These days, I watch my teammates workout and I am reassured that I'm not the only one going through the tough stretch. We are all in it.<br />
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Rarely is there a plane ride that doesn't have a hiccup. It's all part of the trip. And getting from <i>there</i> (who I was in October 2012) to <i>here</i> (who I am now) is the purpose behind why I signed up for Vineman in the first place. To challenge and to change. So, Buttercup, this it is. Put the distractions away and focus on the touchdown. Turbulence or none, fog or none ... stick that landing.<br />
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<i>My efforts are for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Team in Training program. Check it out <a href="http://pages.teamintraining.org/los/VineFIrn13/econlon">here</a></i>.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-81974447034215082062013-05-08T12:31:00.000-07:002013-05-08T12:31:04.341-07:00Wildflower Olympic Tri - Weekend and Race RecapHaven't had the opportunity, time or reason to do a race report since last October. And since my boss is on vacation for a few days and the day job has eased for about 30 seconds, I get a moment to write a little (or a lot, actually) about last weekend's Wildflower Olympic Tri.<br />
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Wildflower Triathlon Weekend wasn't an event I attended by chance. The Wildflower Long Course (aka Half Ironman) is one of three fundraising events for the Greater LA Ironteam. I went up there to help coach the event, and I figured since I'd be there anyway, why not practice "triathlon-ing" at Sunday's Olympic race.<br />
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The week did not start off as planned. For me, in the 8 days leading up to the race I lost my voice and developed a sore throat. I don't get sick often, but life is busy and I've been worn down. Perfect conditions to catch a cold. I ignored the problem until the Tuesday before race weekend. But, feeling sick and low and unhealthy enough, I stayed home from work, got some drugs, and tried to rest up for the weekend. It worked out okay...for me. But for Coach Holly, not so much. She contracted the sickness from me just in time for race week. And she did the Long Course. (See apologetic meme <a href="https://twitter.com/goingforgoofy/status/329242801319575552">here</a>). With a few other folks coming down with colds, I was dubbed 'Outbreak Monkey'.<br />
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We arrived on Thursday and I bid goodbye to cell and internet service - one of the greatest perks of the weekend. A small group of us who were there did a 40-min swim in Lake San Antonio. Whereas February's Hansen Dam swim was the coldest of the year, this body of water proved the warmest. Under a +80 degree sun, the lake was an oasis. Best part of the water? I didn't have to share it with dolphins! This was one of the most enjoyable swims of the year. We chased the workout with a quick 30-min transition run to shake out the legs.<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibcjk1QV6W1i98gj4No4VfuisbN96Bex-nu3aoiDRLjVzLbkx9B4TvvN_q0yW6K5UzE0UeAoMgHju28NXwSsHqz_hKg3-GFA7H1IeoIwa3l6eKHkDbyJs4VfPm3Ay6SgMy3eqBkmmQLQv7/s1600/Lake+San+Antonio.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibcjk1QV6W1i98gj4No4VfuisbN96Bex-nu3aoiDRLjVzLbkx9B4TvvN_q0yW6K5UzE0UeAoMgHju28NXwSsHqz_hKg3-GFA7H1IeoIwa3l6eKHkDbyJs4VfPm3Ay6SgMy3eqBkmmQLQv7/s320/Lake+San+Antonio.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>The Lake</center></i><br />
Friday was meant to be a chill, pre-race day. The team was scheduled for a quick ride, transition run and swim. I planned to add mileage because I wasn't racing the long course. So I set out on an hour run prior to the team bike. It was peaceful. Trails, hills, leaves, dust, and a wild turkey that I tried to chase down (thought: dinner! gobble, gobble!). I got back to our RV ready to ride with my teammates ... until I realized I had forgotten my bike shoes.<br />
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Oh shit. Okay. Oh shit. Okay. It's always something. <br />
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Ever since March, when work picked up, my short term memory has fallen out of my head. Somewhere between reminding myself three times to pack my bike shoes and throwing my bag in the car, my brain shut off. And if you know bike shoes, finding a replacement/spare among a campsite of racers is like trying to find a bike pump needle in a haystack. Luckily ... and I mean that ... Coach Jason had 1) the same clipless pedals that I use and 2) had feet in similar size to my freakishly large paddle feet. And he wasn't racing. So I borrowed his for the weekend. And pretty much I'll never forgot my shoes again.<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKStZ5Pm0pLJLfcJDnWfo4NDpBaS_1mgM05Q5vQzselKHTUbf7QzL_TyiwDon_KwKOwm1LvRmcw3AM2G2OPOV1dCzKe-6wNKPNNZtxEuLT7SQSLnE_gsKZFv2PRL1Jzuy0kLsoJljjfks0/s1600/Lake_Marvin.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKStZ5Pm0pLJLfcJDnWfo4NDpBaS_1mgM05Q5vQzselKHTUbf7QzL_TyiwDon_KwKOwm1LvRmcw3AM2G2OPOV1dCzKe-6wNKPNNZtxEuLT7SQSLnE_gsKZFv2PRL1Jzuy0kLsoJljjfks0/s320/Lake_Marvin.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Wildflower Long Course Swim Start - photo by Marvin Tabangay</center></i><br />
Saturday was a day of coaching some of the most amazing and inspiring tri efforts I've ever seen. I have the privilege to work with these folks multiple times a week for the last 27 weeks. And yet, the determination I got to see out there in the face of heat and wind ... it's deserving of another post all together. My teammates dealt with very hot temps (85-90 degrees), convection oven headwinds, a bike climb from miles 41-44 called "Nasty Grade" and a pavement/trail run of which some parts were too hard to run even for our sub-3hr marathoner/run coach Adam. The Long Course is deserving of its "one of the hardest in the country" descriptor.<br />
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Across the board, regardless of finishing times or cutoffs, every one on the team fought that course. That makes me very proud. And though many of those folks didn't know it, I took their efforts, struggles, triumphs and disappointments with me on Sunday as motivation.<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuuo1XczRgTkcF-G64gT9EXuOtHu5aaJiMKc70RI4gB0mAxFRUQr3aSSJ2_g9SNx_TwKQAqiDEXYPlHUVEqyWoj4-OkC_JdDcJGmGHnvIXzKr__3AyVLaaEQj1KnUNnJms02XVmzgdlJsG/s1600/Four+Finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuuo1XczRgTkcF-G64gT9EXuOtHu5aaJiMKc70RI4gB0mAxFRUQr3aSSJ2_g9SNx_TwKQAqiDEXYPlHUVEqyWoj4-OkC_JdDcJGmGHnvIXzKr__3AyVLaaEQj1KnUNnJms02XVmzgdlJsG/s320/Four+Finish.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Christine, me, Clare, and Holly at Saturday's Half Ironman Finish line</center></i><br />
<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFO7fYA7FFx3Z_nACk_STg65EwLaxpvzjlq09u9FdOp81nytsQSwH1dp9HjSJ1ipdQC32EAF2WtFP-m-_nQKJMRIFdF_Kq7HeVyajOjTO36WRYmq0yjyu7Ym-AxOiw4Kvqg9fyjSOkMJit/s1600/Wildflower_Team_Pai.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFO7fYA7FFx3Z_nACk_STg65EwLaxpvzjlq09u9FdOp81nytsQSwH1dp9HjSJ1ipdQC32EAF2WtFP-m-_nQKJMRIFdF_Kq7HeVyajOjTO36WRYmq0yjyu7Ym-AxOiw4Kvqg9fyjSOkMJit/s320/Wildflower_Team_Pai.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Saturday's Finish Line! photo by Paiwei Wei</center></i><br />
Okay, the race report. Sunday's Olympic Triathlon. <br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzuhVbDoVoB7-hQqgv9e3FSbZnZV1bUIPQANVXnl6gUbluYjTFsObO4FTXKW8N7_X2brovaHyMGkfbFmqDtFZVcM1xQDQUqIeY4P42xe6-HJyEqEt_TkMAUErvsBDSlxW3-YxB5gH1Bqv_/s1600/WF13_Olympic_Course_Map.png" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzuhVbDoVoB7-hQqgv9e3FSbZnZV1bUIPQANVXnl6gUbluYjTFsObO4FTXKW8N7_X2brovaHyMGkfbFmqDtFZVcM1xQDQUqIeY4P42xe6-HJyEqEt_TkMAUErvsBDSlxW3-YxB5gH1Bqv_/s320/WF13_Olympic_Course_Map.png" /></a></center><center><i>The Race Course</center></i><br />
I make no secret that I am not a triathlete. I'm a runner, and even that label has taken some time to wear on me. I think in my head, I'll always be an 8-year-old soccer goalkeeper who hates running and eats the plants that grow around the goalpost. <br />
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So to say I went into Sunday with a lot of confidence would be a lie. I was nervous. We woke up Sunday morning to a whipping wind and noticeable drop in temperature. Whereas Saturday was a true desert atmosphere, Sunday arrived as the Hyde to the Jeykll. Maybe the thermometer pushed 65 degrees, but my shivering argued otherwise. My wave didn't start until 10:10am. So a 7am wake up left me plenty of time to sit. And sit. And sit. And eat a bag of microwaveable rice.<br />
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I've biked and run and swam plenty farther than this distance. Many times. Many practices. But only twice in my life had I really strung the disciplines together and called it a triathlon. So heading into #3, I wasn't sure what the day would hold. My RV-mates were understanding of my apprehension. It's odd how comfortable I feel coaching others with the same information, but when the tables are turned, well, I wanna hide under it. Clare, Holly and Christine helped talk me through the race, everything I needed to transition, what to expect for a choppy swim, windy bike and run. And they waved me goodbye as I set off to bike the mile or so down to the transition area. I was so out of it I forgot to put on my helmet for part of the ride.<br />
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But my nerves shifted when I got down to the giant transition area. Unlike the day prior, the racks were not fully stacked with bikes. Only half of the space was used. The loudspeaker was booming music, and to my surprise, they were playing two of my pre-race mix songs (It's a Beautiful Day / Michael Buble and Gone, Gone, Gone / Philip Phillips). For the next 90 minutes or so, I chatted with teammates, Coach Dave (also doing the race), Coach Brad (there supporting the Summer Tri Team), Coach Rob (Summer Tri Coach), and other familiar faces.<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX7WzWQCOHGuZLrW16GdhIIpmhuAFSlzpXS_Fbqy20kc7ICDjcIbiNvF-WHa16g0X4wjp_XjE5XLzaGlinFq89EDUM44kxIq8qob0zJezqoRH2UgRNujUPdy6cYpWmdWN1R5Xx1yZVKGIj/s1600/Sunday+Swim+Start.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX7WzWQCOHGuZLrW16GdhIIpmhuAFSlzpXS_Fbqy20kc7ICDjcIbiNvF-WHa16g0X4wjp_XjE5XLzaGlinFq89EDUM44kxIq8qob0zJezqoRH2UgRNujUPdy6cYpWmdWN1R5Xx1yZVKGIj/s320/Sunday+Swim+Start.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Sunday Swim Start. I'm one of the green caps on the left - photo by Jake Rice</center></i><br />
Finally, swim time. An unexpected but very welcome hello and hug from Coach Jason before I stepped up to the shore of the lake. It was nice to see a friend before plunging into rather unfriendly waters. But the wait was short, and soon me and my fellow green-capped age groupers were hearing Julie Moss count us down to our launch. And in we went.<br />
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It was a 0.9 mile swim, designed as a modified rectangle. The "out" portion of the swim had me drinking waves left and right. The first 150 yards were a washing machine of arms and feet and white-capped water. But instead of letting my heart rate rocket up, I just ignored everyone around me (all their elbows and toes), and did my own thing. The wind picked up enough so that I'd go to sight off the buoy and be smacked with a wave. But the water was warm and there were no dolphins to surprise me, so I just kept swimming. I'd occasionally find a pair of feet to draft off of, but since I'm not used to doing that, I mainly stayed by myself. The way "back" was a bit easier, though the rolling waves brought me to the precipice of sea-sick. I climbed out of the first leg just over 29 minutes, relieved that I didn't swallow too much algae.<br />
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Transition - Slow. Unremarkable. I didn't get lost, though I did stop and consider how to drap my wetsuit over the rack. There's ten seconds I'll never see again :)<br />
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Bike time. I took Coach Jason and Coach Brad's advice and ran a good 20 feet past the mount line on the bike out to avoid anyone who might be wobbly clipping in on a slight grade. The course introduces an immediate climb - Lynch Hill. I'd biked down it twice and ran down it once, but had never gone the other way. I knew it was steep and potentially soul-crushing, so I prepared myself. I put Oatmeal in a very low gear and sat back. Time to climb.<br />
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It's just under a mile for the climb, so it takes a few minutes. Strategically placed just before the crest of the hill was the best group of cheerers the course had - the TNT family. It started with Holly M. and Coach Brad. Holly yelled out something to the effect of "Go get it!" and Brad yelled out "Come on Em, this is what you love to do!" And it was. My heart rate went very, very high. There were a couple seconds when I really felt a chest-squeezing pain. <br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYpuP3_SAR1xM9pt65IA_xHuy6w0xFHtu8sZoK52f4GEWX8bt7JEi2NbAUSPdZF3XeEdfdfG_gcEWGT6uFFnm_yPukXf-rvn3mlAdyGj9U3pK1FPCpbQ1FM0nOc-NUyap8QxBMmmvBJuT/s1600/Top+of+Lynch.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYpuP3_SAR1xM9pt65IA_xHuy6w0xFHtu8sZoK52f4GEWX8bt7JEi2NbAUSPdZF3XeEdfdfG_gcEWGT6uFFnm_yPukXf-rvn3mlAdyGj9U3pK1FPCpbQ1FM0nOc-NUyap8QxBMmmvBJuT/s320/Top+of+Lynch.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Top of Lynch Hill - photo by Jake Rice</center></i><br />
But, damn, I was loving that hill. The terrain evened and I was face-to-face with at least 30 of my teammates. They wore sombreros, swim parkas and mustaches. They held maracas and beer and gummies. I saw Holly S and Christine jump into the road to cheer me on. A quick left-to-right scan of my friends was enough to get me jamming out on the bike course.<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaOyV_oT2WmoW0KflSoBvYekl7QBxPLk2hHIQCPDULW1fmGEaL8hcoFclrrfCgxPQiEG4FvrrVqbbtb0HndEmV4S6plgkD_OMO51SmJgb0R0HJMSkK5ohxSmtrazandMuEqkgqaCg7sN7a/s1600/Cheer+Squad_Marvin.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaOyV_oT2WmoW0KflSoBvYekl7QBxPLk2hHIQCPDULW1fmGEaL8hcoFclrrfCgxPQiEG4FvrrVqbbtb0HndEmV4S6plgkD_OMO51SmJgb0R0HJMSkK5ohxSmtrazandMuEqkgqaCg7sN7a/s320/Cheer+Squad_Marvin.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>TNT Cheer Squad - photo by Marvin Tabangay </center></i><br />
A 12.5-mile (or so) out and back. A net downhill on the way out, and uphill on the way back - or at least that's the way it felt. Maybe because the turnaround point was preceded by a very long downhill. The winds were unkind. Well, I suppose they were helpful on the way out, but very challenging on the way back. What kept me going was two things: Every person in a purple TNT jersey, and every permanent marker written on the back calves of my competitors. The former: I tried to say something like "go team!" or "keep it up" to each TNTer out there. I used them - whether in front or behind - to boost me along. The latter: I made an effort not to let any girl with a 25, 26, 27, 28 or 29 to pass me. During the bike at least, I was successful. A few 30- and 24-year-olds got by me.<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfWDTjGQtCIt_BEZOtP7sYuuFv7PQYYkp0cq9MkpY-tcfEO-WkYcXgsJcWL_BRWCQsJtBMCWxY4b8AQ7DbOAwBXsS7AS1zbyu-V9_hilgVxxuSbMD7_oWBnlobhsRAPQK2-Dk0MU5N1Ikq/s1600/bike+speed.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfWDTjGQtCIt_BEZOtP7sYuuFv7PQYYkp0cq9MkpY-tcfEO-WkYcXgsJcWL_BRWCQsJtBMCWxY4b8AQ7DbOAwBXsS7AS1zbyu-V9_hilgVxxuSbMD7_oWBnlobhsRAPQK2-Dk0MU5N1Ikq/s320/bike+speed.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Bike Pace - With all the hills and wind, never a consistent speed. Fun nonetheless.</center></i><br />
The course provided constant rollers - up and down non-stop. I kept my eyes out for Coach Dave and my teammate Eric, both of whom I knew were ahead of me given their wave starts and athletic talent. But I missed them, and by the time I got to the turnaround, I knew they were well on their run. I was grateful to re-enter the camp grounds knowing the Team was still celebrating the racers along the Lynch Hill climb/decent. Again, seeing my people there all dressed up and amped gave me some jet fuel to head back into transition and out on the run. Bike time: 1:29.<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy2mvRtrFd7R7sBKItKB2oVyIatthXKfm1H0bQ4xgMlTFGD3QmhHPGZF-ssdHgiQV5WWTm5wMmKTjg00lI6Pcrdi4qQJhyphenhyphenVwBIpcNBQ7l5BR94476_xgKIXgBPMpluIF3nW1RWCEKD_-eG/s1600/Cheer+Squad_Jake.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy2mvRtrFd7R7sBKItKB2oVyIatthXKfm1H0bQ4xgMlTFGD3QmhHPGZF-ssdHgiQV5WWTm5wMmKTjg00lI6Pcrdi4qQJhyphenhyphenVwBIpcNBQ7l5BR94476_xgKIXgBPMpluIF3nW1RWCEKD_-eG/s320/Cheer+Squad_Jake.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>More Cheerers - photo by Jake Rice</center></i><br />
Transition - I overran my spot on the rack by about 15 feet, had to do some math, turnaround and find it.<br />
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The run - 6.2 miles. Or as coach Andie described, "A five-mile uphill run with a one-mile downhill." Usually my transition runs go one of two ways - total dead legs or total spring legs. For this 10k, I was wearing my springing legs. Enough so that I had to reign in my pace after the first mile in preparation for climbing a 1.5-mile stretch of the course at called "The Pit". I'd done hill repeats (run down / run-walk up) for about 3 hours on Saturday when I was out on the run course for the team. So I was intimately familiar with its grades and turns. And in hindsight, I kick myself for not going a little faster. I could have been less conservative in those first three miles without blowing up later on.<br />
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But no matter. It was a good run. We had a tailwind to boost us up The Pit. And with the hill runs I've been doing on my own, the climb didn't feel all that challenging. It took a little while, but I didn't walk and stayed steady enough to not lose my breath. I thought of each of the teammates I spent time with there on Saturday. The Pit is miles 9-11 during the Long Course, and it was for so many athletes out there, a death march. But my teammates conquered it, and so I knew I had to do the same. <br />
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From the climb we transitioned onto a trail. That felt good on my feet. I love dirt paths and usually finish trail workouts covered in dust. I had another 1.5 miles to cover to get to the cheer squad one more time. I chatted with a few runners as we went - mostly cracking jokes to pass the time. I picked up the pace upon hearing the cheers and zero'd in on Christine and Holly holding a Blue Moon for me. A few big sips --- beer everywhere --- and I took off down Lynch Hill for the final mile. Held a nice sub-6min pace for it. No credit to my legs, all credit to gravity. Even at that clip, managed to chat with a girl next to me about her first tri - she did it w TNT and had good memories. Final tenths of that mile went by and there was the finisher's chute. Long stretch, good crowd, name announced. 50mins for the run. Triathlon #3 over.<br />
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2:56 overall for the day. I had fun. I didn't let my race anxiety get the best of me. I moo'd at some of the cows I passed on the bike, and then laughed at myself. I climbed well and I gave it my best effort. Leading up to the race I was hesitant to race in front of my team. I rarely do events where there are spectators I know. Usually one or two people - my mom mostly. But it was great to have some many friendly faces there. And I looked forward to seeing the group each time the course took me by there. So by all those measures, a good day.<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl9Q4ms8J_MUPtnIarmnPqEJwH1CmZcbSOh8GBzxyjQZkp1nHOMbSEQfO5f9JXS76nXIXkpPvzVkWOicYUccNe20GmUb-OaY37WrLWgI5NBVuQCkf1HBd4UQ5T0yyMyyjc_ciBrH1_68uZ/s1600/Sunset+Drive+Home+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl9Q4ms8J_MUPtnIarmnPqEJwH1CmZcbSOh8GBzxyjQZkp1nHOMbSEQfO5f9JXS76nXIXkpPvzVkWOicYUccNe20GmUb-OaY37WrLWgI5NBVuQCkf1HBd4UQ5T0yyMyyjc_ciBrH1_68uZ/s320/Sunset+Drive+Home+2.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNQDJ2jGYwYCGFoFuFRsDN2daou9H66q1_9WRRybaYnT1CTt1NGMXUThvOkmofBN0P5CuBas1RKW_Sv0LEJh0ngIznvLan-xEGppvBB6yyF5zR0CviUYJlTmk4BjoE1SLJ0E58kh_GP9lp/s1600/Sunset+Drive+Home.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNQDJ2jGYwYCGFoFuFRsDN2daou9H66q1_9WRRybaYnT1CTt1NGMXUThvOkmofBN0P5CuBas1RKW_Sv0LEJh0ngIznvLan-xEGppvBB6yyF5zR0CviUYJlTmk4BjoE1SLJ0E58kh_GP9lp/s320/Sunset+Drive+Home.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Sunset on the drive home</center></i><br />
So now what? Back to training. Five weeks til my teammates do Ironman CDA, and nine weeks til I go and do <a href="http://pages.teamintraining.org/los/VineFIrn13/econlon">Vineman Full</a>. With another build weekend on the schedule and little rest in sight, it's hustle time.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-44008260288318584612013-04-01T21:57:00.002-07:002013-04-01T21:57:58.255-07:00#NoLimits - Final Results!A lesson that we have learned through years of training - 7 days are going to pass no matter what - what's important is how you spend them. Congratulations to the #nolimits players who are now 7 days stronger. Arms, core, back, mind!<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBKzMYRCaodKhwTWd11HLnOMgbCg1_T-QPzgV2vVy6Az1BaFJRtttEDUE087UMXiIqrzvlN4oL0UQ4zCQe0ZNR8X2oO7PqDIFFx9HVYbWRsqNwAdurJg4F1-AxRfGVT-4DEqJXSiIbSe_y/s1600/Day+Sevencopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBKzMYRCaodKhwTWd11HLnOMgbCg1_T-QPzgV2vVy6Az1BaFJRtttEDUE087UMXiIqrzvlN4oL0UQ4zCQe0ZNR8X2oO7PqDIFFx9HVYbWRsqNwAdurJg4F1-AxRfGVT-4DEqJXSiIbSe_y/s320/Day+Sevencopy.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Click for image of Limit Breakers as their best!</center></i><br />
The most important thing we can impart is the work you've done in the past week. Every person on tonight graph did something they may not have done otherwise. We hope that makes you proud of yourself (bring that hand around and pat-pat-pat your back). We are certainly psyched for you.<br />
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Stay tuned for the next round of #challenges. We're always interested in your feedback (deadline too tight? exercises too easy?), so please don't hesistate to contact us. We're constantly evolving the challenges and missions to your needs.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-49965244096097365082013-03-31T22:24:00.000-07:002013-03-31T22:24:07.104-07:00#NoLimits - Day Six ResultsSix down, one to go! Anyone buy tickets to the gun show today? Those arms should feel like lead pipes! And kudos to the Ironteammers and other folks who logged an ocean swim this morning. That's added badass points.<br />
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With one day left of the #NoLimits Challenge, here's where you stand:<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxWSM54g7I8iEbMvXqVKY5K3jfwJ9_p2q2t6XoGGVe_BPjo8I_uFCr0N6LdhfIqe9_qgTfTqzF_mMt5j2oVGlCSLs3aomGdEeYctyrB_YYB3p7BIgBZ-eMgF6Z3LY2yyUF5BSfzLM8dat8/s1600/Day+Six.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxWSM54g7I8iEbMvXqVKY5K3jfwJ9_p2q2t6XoGGVe_BPjo8I_uFCr0N6LdhfIqe9_qgTfTqzF_mMt5j2oVGlCSLs3aomGdEeYctyrB_YYB3p7BIgBZ-eMgF6Z3LY2yyUF5BSfzLM8dat8/s320/Day+Six.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Click for larger image</center></i><br />
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<b>Ale</b>, <b>Amy </b>and <b>Grant </b>all have a good chance of breaking the 5000 rep. mark. Anyone else wanna make a mad dash to the finish line? Tomorrow's challenge - <b>Day Seven</b> - goes back to our roots. <b>Crunches</b>. That's all, straight up crunches. As many as you can do.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-38588643161400298352013-03-30T21:27:00.000-07:002013-03-30T21:27:12.560-07:00#NoLimits - Day Five ResultsFollowing Day Squats, here's where the leaderboard stands:<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDGY1mW_jYMeKWnWoEvfI3HSkWYcUXAmG7yFsM2rukWX2MuwEE1ExQJ5-fW7A0f-RYrs8S-FIHqPVys8rO1pnYPmCr-tEtk6fQ_btE3Q8K9SGHgq0ht77j1m2A-EBbWLbgtIOut-lsnNZ3/s1600/Day+Five.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDGY1mW_jYMeKWnWoEvfI3HSkWYcUXAmG7yFsM2rukWX2MuwEE1ExQJ5-fW7A0f-RYrs8S-FIHqPVys8rO1pnYPmCr-tEtk6fQ_btE3Q8K9SGHgq0ht77j1m2A-EBbWLbgtIOut-lsnNZ3/s320/Day+Five.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Click for larger image</center></i><br />
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We've got five players who have broken the 1000 mark in 5 days - pretty amazing. Great work Marjorie, Ale, Holly H, Amy RG, Marvin and Grant! And Sauleta may be headed into quadruple digits tomorrow. It all depends on <b>Day Six:</b> How many <b>Push Ups</b> can you do? Let us remind you ... there are <u>no limits</u> to what you can do.<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-7904096075862864022013-03-29T22:02:00.000-07:002013-03-29T22:02:27.407-07:00#NoLimits - Day Four Results!<b>Limit-breakers,</b><br />
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Sorry for the abbreviated post tonight. We're two tired triathletes prepping for a monster workout tomorrow in South Bay (SoCal). Nevertheless we are amazed at the bicycling (sans bikes) that went on during today's #corechallenge. Special shout out to <b>Marvin</b> for tipsy-texting his results from a casino floor in Vegas!<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_I4RYqZTq-qwev0chEyuXq0TM6cWNIXRBv_jEVFcAt-M4ctxzlaH-k1BjKLjmlGO4tUeIN1kXCRPjD17iMyMSYs6pjzxWcG4cGJ9qZki4CR-JJTdI2xzSNnipO4dhUwLo1LYaO9eIA7j/s1600/Day+Four.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_I4RYqZTq-qwev0chEyuXq0TM6cWNIXRBv_jEVFcAt-M4ctxzlaH-k1BjKLjmlGO4tUeIN1kXCRPjD17iMyMSYs6pjzxWcG4cGJ9qZki4CR-JJTdI2xzSNnipO4dhUwLo1LYaO9eIA7j/s320/Day+Four.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Click for larger image</center></i><br />
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<b>Day Five - Squats</b>. In the words of the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IYH7_GzP4Tg">Lil Jon & and East Side Boyz</a> ... GET LOW!<br />
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Drop down and give us as many as you got!<br />
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- H & EAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-44779014361818386992013-03-28T21:42:00.001-07:002013-03-28T21:42:26.272-07:00#NoLimits - Day Three ResultsGuess what? Many of you deserve this t-shirt:<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirW2nZbRlt0USahJGHuKReDx_yMyVZs4eY9-tEJTgNPmD3gWVXpRcHlyz9uYhzoxlon9xOdk70ToMCmamLbkHCE-qbBL5UdqZwKVlXyDYFq5iq__TADZtHzc7cgLJn4yBDIrvmhRXWs3hE/s1600/burpees.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirW2nZbRlt0USahJGHuKReDx_yMyVZs4eY9-tEJTgNPmD3gWVXpRcHlyz9uYhzoxlon9xOdk70ToMCmamLbkHCE-qbBL5UdqZwKVlXyDYFq5iq__TADZtHzc7cgLJn4yBDIrvmhRXWs3hE/s320/burpees.jpg" /></a></center><br />
Congratulations on getting through a day of one of the most despised (yet beneficial) no-weight, full-body exercises. Yes, they are difficult and draining. Yes, they will make you stronger.<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Hd_pcQiOnPaNCYdqAdTWRU7uWMJ4xA8wqiucTf1hK7SpOyjaPfq8ivp5pvxwnFZ8hpo7H3qhlnccOEo0OGWZpdwWH-GQgHgbeKWaeIYoj9lXrUga5GhpvNW6UEg0vw7BHYggCkc7ADjm/s1600/Day+Three+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Hd_pcQiOnPaNCYdqAdTWRU7uWMJ4xA8wqiucTf1hK7SpOyjaPfq8ivp5pvxwnFZ8hpo7H3qhlnccOEo0OGWZpdwWH-GQgHgbeKWaeIYoj9lXrUga5GhpvNW6UEg0vw7BHYggCkc7ADjm/s320/Day+Three+copy.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Click for larger image</center></i><br />
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Ale clocked 303 burpees today, just edging out Amy RG. Those red bars are screaming toward the top of the challenge! But let's also take a look at the battle going on a few inches below. <b>Grant </b>and <b>Marvin </b>- you two are almost neck-in-neck. Which one of you will defiantly and definitely take the lead tomorrow? Well, that's up to you. A classic East Coast / West Coast battle.<br />
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Hey there <b>Sanjay, Jessica, Melissa, Scott, Laura, Terissa, Bobbi, Lauren, Holly, Andrea, Jason, Rona, Megan, Niki</b> and <b>Ryanne </b>- we'd love to hear from you tomorrow. If you're feeling up for a challenge, then prepare to sit up many, many times.<br />
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Good work folks. Three down and four to go. <b>Day Four's activity combines two of our favorite things - Bicycles and Crunches!</b> That's right - your next workout is bicycle crunches. Opposite knee to opposite elbow. Don't bend that neck. Use your abs. Any wanna push some limits and go for 500 in one day? We dare you.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-15956707100444725582013-03-27T21:54:00.002-07:002013-03-28T00:45:42.918-07:00#NoLimits - Day Two ResultsHow's your core feeling today? ABS-olutely awesome? We hope so. If you haven't started the challenge yet, fear not! Feel free to tag in to day three (it's a doozy!) If you're starting out and you'd rather start with Day One (crunches) or Day Two (planks) that's okay too. Just let us know when you report in!<br />
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We have two shout outs today - First goes to the heated race between Amy RG and Ale H! Amy had the lead on crunches yesterday, but Ale logged <b>over 36 minutes of planks</b> today! Give that girl some clothes to clean on that washboard tummy! More than half of the previous <a href="http://goingforgoofy.blogspot.com/2013/02/plank-challenge-complete-new-challenge.html">#plankchallenge</a> taken out in one day. Amy was no slouch either, getting in <b>25 minutes of planking</b> herself.<br />
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Nice work both of you. Anyone out there want to try and catch'em?<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha8DlJT6oq6sY9nbZxE6KgPfMm3WklbzN3t6ZTc3UQbhJXaEfj2o5pOY3OJa0k2H5U1ZqGJX1QDqpyrvwApfoUu7DxmopUa7Fo0BTBO7XBe45pHZODCsLP0h-9r9JHq2j27cqoO80xXn2Z/s1600/Day+Two_v2.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha8DlJT6oq6sY9nbZxE6KgPfMm3WklbzN3t6ZTc3UQbhJXaEfj2o5pOY3OJa0k2H5U1ZqGJX1QDqpyrvwApfoUu7DxmopUa7Fo0BTBO7XBe45pHZODCsLP0h-9r9JHq2j27cqoO80xXn2Z/s320/Day+Two_v2.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Click for larger image</center></i><br />
Second shout out goes to Marjorie C. Here at #challenges, we enjoy hearing about how much you like the workouts we prescribe. If you email us with comments, we try to get back to you. Well, today we heard from Marjorie - in a big and thoughtful way - thank you so much for your donation to the Ironteam! A lot of you know how important <a href="http://teamintraining.org/">Team in Training</a> is to us. Many of you are participants, staff and alumns. The #challenges we offer are open to everyone, and are completely free, but it is always a HUGE heartwarming gesture when someone <a href="http://los.tnt.llsevent.org/ng/index.cfm/a61daa2/regPages/pledge/CRAZYWETSUITADVENTURES/">donates </a>to one of our favorite causes. So, in short, thanks mucho!<br />
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Now onto Day Three: Men, Ladies, Warriors, Princesses, Warrior Princesses ... ready, set, <b>BURPEE</b>. As many as you can. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-80508337015604032772013-03-26T21:55:00.001-07:002013-03-26T22:21:53.249-07:00#NoLimits - Day One ResultsDay One of the 7-day #NoLimits Challenge is complete!! <br />
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We asked you to do as many crunches as you can in one day (21 hours, to be exact). Here are your results. If you put in the work, the red bar is running up for you!<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-u2ShesILQa9qW94lXp1YQFYPNH8st_PAZvTxZ_V1FkhgcOPeJRHnQ1II4nHtwnoLe3OM8UTgdh4TrQ1YlVx3PTM0qOYSd_HELDrxTURiECgMUL7oq4e962P1rf6TgK3mJVqTrNI3mPqv/s1600/Day+One.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-u2ShesILQa9qW94lXp1YQFYPNH8st_PAZvTxZ_V1FkhgcOPeJRHnQ1II4nHtwnoLe3OM8UTgdh4TrQ1YlVx3PTM0qOYSd_HELDrxTURiECgMUL7oq4e962P1rf6TgK3mJVqTrNI3mPqv/s320/Day+One.jpg" /></a><center><i>Click for larger image</center></i></center><br />
Today's clear winner is our IronTeammate and Spirit Captain <b>Amy Richard</b>! Can <b>Ale</b> or <b>Marvin</b> unseat the Core Queen with tomorrow's workout? Will anyone hovering around the x-axis step in and blow them all out of the water? We're willing to put our money behind some sleeper players...<br />
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A quick review of the rules and Day Two's instructions.<br />
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1) Each day, we give you one activity. You have between 12:00am - 9:00pm of that day to get in as many repetitions as you can. Keep a running tally for the day - we're going for a cumulative number, not just however many you can get in a row in one set. Use the entire day!<br />
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2) Your daily count ends at 9:00pm no matter what time zone you live in. Each night, report back via email by 9:00pm PST. The graph will be updated and published that night or the next morning. You'll get to see exactly how you stack up against the competition. We encourage side bets! Get on facebook or twitter, call someone out, and then get at it.<br />
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3) There are a few ways to "win" against everyone else - Be in the top 3 for the day, or be in the top 3 for the running total for the entire 7 days. Meaning, we're taking every single rep of every single workout you do and adding it together<br />
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So for <b>Day Two, we challenge you</b> ... How many seconds can you <b>plank </b>during the day? How long can you go? <i>That's what she said</i>. Report your numbers in <i>seconds</i> on Wednesday night by 9:00pm.<br />
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Ready, set, hold!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-77402026903007203352013-03-13T06:56:00.002-07:002013-03-13T06:57:52.737-07:00#MissionPossible: Day Seven Results - The End!Operatives:<br />
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We are thoroughly pleased with your efforts for this week. Outstanding work. It's been fun for us to hear about how much you loved/hated the workouts and how pleasantly sore you are after them. 11 of you completed every single workout and at least half of the bonuses. Your names are in red, and you've received the Bonus Day workout via email. Report back to us your progress. One of you will be declared most elite.<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNqkuQ75yCl6M92XwzcWEfI2s3qolBK0vhIqyLy1MC_ds6IWq1TNhLQHCisYs2VL7GRc6Shf_eM0z20J0ERecG9owEx86V8aUDGglv3U0qW0Os7gverGLa5_sbpGb6ZWDYEaWKdHCWj0PY/s1600/MP_Day+7+results+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNqkuQ75yCl6M92XwzcWEfI2s3qolBK0vhIqyLy1MC_ds6IWq1TNhLQHCisYs2VL7GRc6Shf_eM0z20J0ERecG9owEx86V8aUDGglv3U0qW0Os7gverGLa5_sbpGb6ZWDYEaWKdHCWj0PY/s320/MP_Day+7+results+copy.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Click for larger image</center></i><br />
To all of you, thanks for playing along! We hope you feel a little bit stronger than you did seven days ago. And we hope that you'll come back and do another challenge! For those reading who did not participate this round, you're welcome to join the (sometimes painful) fun! Email us at <a href="mailto:poundchallenges@gmail.com">poundchallenges@gmail.com</a> and we'll get you on our list. <br />
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We are going to take a break from #challenges, and we'll be starting the next on March 19. In the meantime, there are two things you can do. We'll be emailing you a survey (8 questions, you can't get them wrong) to see what new challenges you'd like to do. Please take a minute to response. Second, start back at Day 1 of this, <a href="http://goingforgoofy.blogspot.com/2013/02/plank-week-one-hour-challenge.html">#plankchallenge</a> or <a href="http://goingforgoofy.blogspot.com/2013/02/plank-challenge-complete-new-challenge.html">#2500crunches</a> and keep going!<br />
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Stay stealthy, gutsy, creative, trickly, seductive, agile and smart. And continue to work that core!<br />
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The Agents<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-38144217923225069212013-03-12T08:31:00.002-07:002013-03-12T08:31:29.620-07:00MissionPossible: Day 6 Results<b>Operatives:</b><br />
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Congratulations, you've made it through six days of training, Spy School style.<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0BWl5BvpCaD_l0ZdA7pZcjvGXg84v4wDoEKgPWOzXp6o25uPUkO80UesW7-6a4ljMvWZvhUDhDi7gat1EmBq30JJ4pTEZcb8UI4xkB6NPqpGXwNWReRkk4F_lgDnABIU1jT5yUj0t4iW-/s1600/MP_Day+6+results+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0BWl5BvpCaD_l0ZdA7pZcjvGXg84v4wDoEKgPWOzXp6o25uPUkO80UesW7-6a4ljMvWZvhUDhDi7gat1EmBq30JJ4pTEZcb8UI4xkB6NPqpGXwNWReRkk4F_lgDnABIU1jT5yUj0t4iW-/s320/MP_Day+6+results+copy.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Click for larger image</center></i><br />
Today's your last day to get in some training. And if you complete at least half of the bonus challenges, we'll be contacting you for Day Eight - an elite workout. It will test you. It will make you sore. It will make you stronger.<br />
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Until tomorrow,<br />
The #Challenge AgentsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-10449891023340298402013-03-11T08:13:00.000-07:002013-03-11T08:13:09.762-07:00#MissionPossible Day 5 Results<b>Operatives:</b><br />
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Now that you have wrapped up your weekend with a little fun, it's back to the grind. Two more days and two more badges to earn. Let's take a look at who is moving on to the next portion of #MissionPossible:<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxnx21GsD3Wr82cmP5u27OQfJpfZsc-KNZSUOKbRvWbZ-kX34JAJdMc5dAMgvJarQjgS3QHCk7fZvHbGWAe2GGunGKkM9XZHm4giaNBg5Pu2prYlrYaewog5Y19Ml7IPpPFSerkRMYF2Wg/s1600/MissionPossible_day+Five+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxnx21GsD3Wr82cmP5u27OQfJpfZsc-KNZSUOKbRvWbZ-kX34JAJdMc5dAMgvJarQjgS3QHCk7fZvHbGWAe2GGunGKkM9XZHm4giaNBg5Pu2prYlrYaewog5Y19Ml7IPpPFSerkRMYF2Wg/s320/MissionPossible_day+Five+copy.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Click for larger image</center></i><br />
What good is a spy who can't scale the exterior of an Italian Estate via Bougainvillea vines? How valuable is an agent who cannot leaps from the rooftop of a Japanese skyscraper and land on a speeding train? In other words ... one of the most important skills a spy can have is Agility. <br />
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How well can you climb a ladder? Enjoy earning your sixth badge.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-36652847233727199652013-03-09T21:56:00.000-08:002013-03-09T21:56:18.069-08:00#MissionPossible Day Four Results<b>Operatives:</b><br />
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There are no weekends for spies. Only more training. In the case of many of you long-distance athletes, there are multiple workouts. #Missionpossible being one of them. The most important one of course. It's really great to hear from each of you as you turn in your assignments. Glad you are enjoying the challenge.<br />
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Here's an update on the program. Many started, some still going. Will you make it through? There's still time to catch up.<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSuPS8mcIO4F69QAsuwMhnac2IPaMV_F4BQTV3D_NKx4nXaTFp1Jq8E3i2-z-dgZ_ubke2jurkbC55vPChzygTm1BSznI5LwzVib6RtW7CKrnFKn419m4L0B0Rd4Pk_DF-l8W_36MICHMv/s1600/MissionPossible_day+four.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSuPS8mcIO4F69QAsuwMhnac2IPaMV_F4BQTV3D_NKx4nXaTFp1Jq8E3i2-z-dgZ_ubke2jurkbC55vPChzygTm1BSznI5LwzVib6RtW7CKrnFKn419m4L0B0Rd4Pk_DF-l8W_36MICHMv/s320/MissionPossible_day+four.jpg" /></a></center><center><i>Click for larger image</center></i><br />
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You've mastered the art of Stealth, Guts, Creativity and Codes. But James Bond isn't just know for his mind. Many secrets are spilled over martinis. A little smooth talking and raised eyebrows also do the trick.<br />
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Enjoy your next workout ;)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3146616621665126487.post-7578910799407290642013-03-08T22:47:00.000-08:002013-03-09T05:26:02.510-08:00MissionPossible: Day Three Results<b>Operatives:</b><br />
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We're not saying that your challenges are easy. We are saying that they are worthwhile.<br />
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<center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTTENRO48JOiidn0S5ZPacYTiuZGU-48ZoKRqoz-hXu62sgHXo-rUYF5WhwEwkp9R7vfgpo5zR__TzHizfPrs656uEF1Slkn8cqn9hhm-LHa3PVoR-C6KRZAGunDIB3jvg21tXHp5H2uYA/s1600/Copy+of+MPD3_1.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTTENRO48JOiidn0S5ZPacYTiuZGU-48ZoKRqoz-hXu62sgHXo-rUYF5WhwEwkp9R7vfgpo5zR__TzHizfPrs656uEF1Slkn8cqn9hhm-LHa3PVoR-C6KRZAGunDIB3jvg21tXHp5H2uYA/s320/Copy+of+MPD3_1.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlnW0PoVCwnsbljOOalzeQKqA0K3oLmbz8eYD0QzIfnt9BCJHZlPTtdGeHycDNgWyyc7v6CC_CDRGIO5VmIro7AmhaF-2yEHv3RtxffOYSjxzG4QYsR2bJTdbdSVvzNHk7Jxm7kJPxajOv/s1600/Copy+of+MP3_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlnW0PoVCwnsbljOOalzeQKqA0K3oLmbz8eYD0QzIfnt9BCJHZlPTtdGeHycDNgWyyc7v6CC_CDRGIO5VmIro7AmhaF-2yEHv3RtxffOYSjxzG4QYsR2bJTdbdSVvzNHk7Jxm7kJPxajOv/s320/Copy+of+MP3_3.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBEz6qgSquplucHW3dKmVA0wwWVWJyU-voLidgjZess9rNKjoncEam-bWdUnQ3FUq_yqI1keULltHSc9E19ntYppcAg2lT00NG1jN0wnJonOncOdf5mIpWU3RkabjAOJceTWCjqEvSrpjr/s1600/Copy+of+Mary_Day+3.png" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBEz6qgSquplucHW3dKmVA0wwWVWJyU-voLidgjZess9rNKjoncEam-bWdUnQ3FUq_yqI1keULltHSc9E19ntYppcAg2lT00NG1jN0wnJonOncOdf5mIpWU3RkabjAOJceTWCjqEvSrpjr/s320/Copy+of+Mary_Day+3.png" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNokyDUdKVb7zBcjFVa6F6C-U7aV-Yv0qhNcZU-WI3UQX1tix2GqxztfffrigyDyfOysUJxHLCXiKJGOXNIUg1K0Vi4QNxE1HTalvvuUTEaQidNgknoYoiOZihmjqMtcxbNYKKlJDaFf_e/s1600/MPD3_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNokyDUdKVb7zBcjFVa6F6C-U7aV-Yv0qhNcZU-WI3UQX1tix2GqxztfffrigyDyfOysUJxHLCXiKJGOXNIUg1K0Vi4QNxE1HTalvvuUTEaQidNgknoYoiOZihmjqMtcxbNYKKlJDaFf_e/s320/MPD3_2.JPG" /></a></center><center><i>No excuses</center></i><br />
Day Three was about figuring out how to make yourself a stronger and better spy-athlete. Did you do yourself justice? <br />
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<center>Day Three Results:</center><center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnjBs52eSKaCUM_26ktJwdf9HuzK_Sg1zcUp7YuSkkQK5A-mRHPM9MLP8VXn7gxvHHY1U9Y8M9whigEttNBoHxAs3jEtH6V2lwBYFuq1-4oAo596KEOjlCCWM8ZvrEe7WTuZK5z4uOVQNO/s1600/MissionPossible_day4+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnjBs52eSKaCUM_26ktJwdf9HuzK_Sg1zcUp7YuSkkQK5A-mRHPM9MLP8VXn7gxvHHY1U9Y8M9whigEttNBoHxAs3jEtH6V2lwBYFuq1-4oAo596KEOjlCCWM8ZvrEe7WTuZK5z4uOVQNO/s320/MissionPossible_day4+copy.jpg" /></a><center><i>Click for larger image</center></i></center><br />
Report for duty. Day Four awaits.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16692893917325782172noreply@blogger.com0