Those damn yellow shirts

Strong. (OK, not really, the bike is super-light!!)

I've started and re-started this entry about six times since Saturday afternoon, when I returned home giddy and emotionally spent from this roller coaster of physical and mental highs and lows. And what it comes down to, what you need to know, is the following: 

The official title of this blog indicates that I am a triathlete. This dates back to 2007, when I actually completed two sprints within a week of each other and was all over that title. I had the USAT sticker on my car, even had a bike rack for my heavy metal Toys R Us bicycle. But the reality is that since the incident at Danskin in 2007, I had done very little tri-athleting and really had focused more on the run, focusing on marathons and ultras and then recently just coming to peace with who I am right now as an athlete, but more importantly, as a person. I know I want sport (and multi-sport) to be a part of my life for the long haul, and I knew I'd get back to it eventually, when I was ready.

On Saturday, I finished a sprint triathlon. I trained only for the swim part, knowing that once I got out of the water, I'd be just fine. I didn't let very many people know about it, because honestly, I wasn't sure how I'd do. The day came way too quickly for me, but I put on my big-girl pants (spandex ones at that - yeesh) and went out and did the thing. It was slow. It was ugly. There was a moment (several, actually) in which I didn't think it was going to get done. But at the end of the day, 1:53 after I started, I finished the race*. I was the VERY last person across the finish line. I did what I set out to do. 

But here's the other thing that you have to know.  I didn't do this alone. Far from it.

We cause quite a stir wherever we go. 

I have these friends, you see, and when any of us is racing, especially a goal race, the rest of us will do what we can to be there for support, and either race it too, because we're all kind of addicted to racing, or to cheer. We are good at the cheering. We have these bright yellow "visible from space" shirts with our nicknames on the back, and seriously, we Bring the Cheer. Glitter signs, noise makers, yelling and hooting and high-fiving. Our crew is hard to miss. We tend to attract attention. 

I loves me some Mr K! 

But what you have to know, and what I don't think you can fully comprehend, not even when you see us on the course, is that for these people, this rowdy group you can hear before you even see these bright yellow shirts,  the noise and the shirts and the high-fives and the signs are just a very thin veneer over the deepest most caring and supportive hearts you'll ever be fortunate enough to know.

THIS GIRL! THIS PINK GIRL! Love her! 

I had support and encouragement from these people all along the way, from the minute I signed up, after every practice swim, every time I expressed the inner voices in my head telling me I wasn't ready. Race week, I got text messages and emails. I had people offer to pick up my packet when I realized I couldn't get there during packet pickup. These people were THERE for me, physically and mentally and emotionally. How could I drown when I had all this love lifting me up? I couldn't. That bubble of love is a true thing.

Someone tell me how I survived before I met this woman? 

I'm not going to get into the details of the swim, where I panicked 10 feet from the wall, in 5.5 feet of water. The swim that took me more than 20 minutes for 350 yards, with the lifeguards and volunteers at the end of every lane cheering for me and wishing I would just finish already so they could go. I could sense those yellow shirts every time I flipped on my back to try to calm myself down, and during the last lap, that last 50 yards, when I swam nonstop without flipping on my back once as I had the previous 6 laps, I could feel them pulling me along. I wanted so desperately to show them that I *was* ready physically for this, even if my brain wasn't quite there at the outset. That is the power of those damn yellow shirts. 

Tri chicks. Boo Yah! 

I'm not going to tell you about the bike course, where I went out with flat tires because I made a rookie mistake and forgot to air up the tires on Reveille before the race.  Except that the highlight of that moment was seeing TPG on the course, finishing up her second loop as I went out on my first. And the other highlight was passing this huge group of those damn yellow shirts as I finished the first six miles. 

She brings the #HighSocks. And so much more! She won't always hug ya, but she is awesome just the same!

I'm not going to spend a lot of time talking about the run course, with all the volunteers getting picked up by a truck behind me, as I was the last person out there, and they were all smiling and happy and cheerful as I went by, encouraging and excited for me, each and every one even though they'd been out there for hours and were probably hotter and more tired than I was.  It was blazing hot by then, and my time was the slowest 5K I've ever put together, but by then, I was mostly OK with that. I knew I would finish. And I may or may not have spent the last half mile in tears, even before all those people in those damn yellow shirts made a freaking TUNNEL for me to run under in my last approach to the finish. It was about the most loved and most appreciated and most undeserving I have ever felt in my life. 

Wanna feel like a champion? Have your friends do THIS right before the finish. AMAZING!

And when it was done, and I literally collapsed in a soggy pile of sweat and tears on Alicia's blanket, I was amazed yet again by this group of incredible people with whom I'm fallen into company. And I am thankful and not sure how to ever express my absolute thanks and love to these people in those damn yellow shirts. 

Special notes: 

• TPG - you kept my nerves at bay with your silly dancing in line, and your absolute upbeat attitude. The spark and smile in your eyes these days brings joy to my heart. I can't wait to see what you do next!! 
• Elaine - you didn't know I was racing until that morning. And your first reaction was sheer excitement and enthusiasm. I love it! I will be pulling for you in Austin, girl! 
• Marci - the signs!! YOU MAKE THE BEST SIGNS!! and you can have that damn kitty cat back. I love you! 
• MK - you gave me a hug. Even when I was soggy!  thank you for so much. So so much. 
• Mr K - the BEST hug on race day always comes from Mr K. He knew I needed a hug pre-race and he delivered. <3 
• DK - YOU BROUGHT ME A CUPCAKE!! if that alone doesn't say "you get me," then I don't know what does!! 
• Alicia - sorry for making your blanket wet and sweaty. It was perfect. I love seeing you at races. I'm excited to see you more and learn from you and laugh with you. 
• Erin - the BEST post-race hug. Chaos rules. I know your weekends are crazy and I appreciated you being there
• Fiona - You kept me in the water. Your calm voice of reason was exactly what I needed to hear. Having the girls there kept me going, too. You are such an amazing role model for them - I'm so in awe of you. 
• Byron - You told me the right words at the right time. You play such a goofball on TV, but we all know you are such an incredibly experienced and talented athlete, and I have much to learn from you. Thank you. 

So, what next? I know I need to practice swimming a LOT more, so that it becomes second nature and I can overcome the doubts and fears in my head. I know I'm not waiting another five years before I do this again. I know I want to build up to longer distances and bigger challenges. I want to actually race one of these soon, instead of just trying to survive. And I know that when I do, I will have the FIGJAM army in my heart once again. In those damn yellow shirts! 

There are no words. None. 

*FIGJAM note: My previous sprint time, at Danskin? 2:30:53. THIRTY-SEVEN MINUTE PR, BITCHES!!! 

Summer Lovin'

So this race... well... yeah... I have been following this training plan, right, and it was supposed to help me run faster. And I'd been hitting my workouts, hitting my paces, everything was groovy leading up to it. Mostly everything. Mostly. So what happened? Welp... Let's talk about this, not so much because I want to relive it (oh, please baby hey-zeus, no, don't make me relive it, it kinda mostly sucked, okay, not really, I'm getting ahead of myself... ) but because I need to get it all out of my brain and process it, and I can only do that by writing about it. Also, I have some MAJOR kudos to hand out, and I don't think I can do that properly without giving some insight into what all was going on in my head...

The setting:  Liberty on the Lake, The Colony. 

The time: 8:05 start, JULY 4th. 

The cast: Frunners abounded. Some I knew would be there, some pleasant surprises. 

The mission: 10K. All out. See where I am. See what I could do. 

And, scene: 

I got there early. Parked ridiculously easily and close to the start/finish line. Picked up bib, chip and t-shirt and sat in the shady grass for a bit while the other folks started to collect. Noted that the humidity that tortured me on my previous run was non-existent. Yay. Good sign. Folks start arriving, and it evolves into the usual race scene of hugs and catching up with folks. I left my phone in the car for this one - no music, no MapMyRun, NO PICTURES! (gasp). No, ma'am. I was all BIZNASS for this one. I was here to run. No distractions, no getting sidetracked by anything on this day. Thankfully, a couple of other friends had cameras with them and I did demand the assembled peeps get together for a group shot and assailed an unsuspecting passer-by to take the pic. So all was not lost. 

Pre-race pic. Missing Mark, Cairo & Daniel. boo.  We'll draw them in later. 

 I also took a bit of a race hint from another incredibly inspiring Frunner, TPG, and borrowed her magic marker pre-race. I knew I was going to need to remind myself that I am stronger than I think I am. I definitely am glad I did that - I called on that a couple of times during the race. 

Stronger. Waffles. Things to remember. 

Start time arrived and here comes my pacer, Drum, who had done an easy five miles before meeting up with me and the rest of the crew.  We had discussed strategy just a little bit previously, and I said I was thinking I'd like to hit 10:30s for the first 10k and then turn it up in the last 2 miles. So that was the plan. She had her new Garmin set to quarter-mile intervals so she could correct my pace quickly, and we were off. 

LOVE. #thatisall

Right away, I felt good. Too good. I was going way faster than I should have been. I let the crowd sweep me away and I went with them, right in the middle of the fray.  I don't know exactly what my pace was for that first half-mile or so, but I do distinctly remember her reaching for my shoulder and physically slowing me down. "These people are doing a 5k! LET THEM GO!"  oh, snap. Okay.  Thank you, Drum!  

Ok, so we settle in. Kind of. Ok, there was no settling into anything.  Right away, I had trouble regulating my breathing.  I was glad to see the path we were on turn onto a crushed limestone path. I've had great success on this surface, and I was relieved that I wouldn't be on hard pavement for 6 miles. But, I was struggling with my breathing early on. And I suddenly became aware of how hot it was.  There was very little shade and absolutely ZERO cloudcover.  Ahhhh, Texas.... 

Drum was so good to me during this whole race.  She reminded me to keep my shoulders back, head up, so I could open up my airway and get the oxygen I needed.  She reminded me we didn't need to sprint. She tried to keep me calm and get me to shut up the voices in my head. Apparently, it was pretty evident early on that mentally I was in full Chaos Muppet mode. I was getting in my own way pretty much from the start. About this time, we come up on the two-mile mark. TWO miles. And it just seemed like it took FOREVER to get there. And I may have done a mini-primal-scream. More of a grunt, really. Poor Drum. I was DQing it up, big-time. So early, too. Ah, hints of what was to come. 

By now, we're on this path along the lake, and I can very slowly start to see the wheels coming off. I'm having a hard time running. Everything hurts. Not any specific pain, just that general, working hard, OMG-I-can't-do-this-much-longer hurt. And I want to stop. So I start walking. And Drum yells at me, "NO! we walk at the water stop. Not now! Not yet!"  And I love her so dearly for doing this for me, but in that moment, I gotta say, a tiny part of me was like, "whatever, whatever, I do what I want..."  But she was right. Please. It was MILE THREE!! So I sucked it up and ran. Did I mention it was hot? Yeah, it was hot. 

From there, it got hotter and hotter, and the mile markers were further and further apart. The strong happy that I felt at the start?  All gone. And I couldn't get my mind to just.stop.talking. I kept getting frustrated with myself, because I KNOW I can run a consistent pace. I know my body is capable of going much faster than I was going. I let myself get negative-head. And it just built and built. And I slowed further and further down. Drum was awesome. Kept ahead of me so she didn't have to hear me whining, but close enough that I knew if she looked back and I wasn't running she was going to kick my ass. I kept running when I didn't want to because I didn't want to disappoint her. I joked on FaceBook about her being mean and yelling, but really she was perfect in every sense. She reminded me that I asked for this, I signed up for this, that this test of myself, physically and mentally, is what I wanted. She was right. When we hit the 5 mile mark and I was shuffling so badly that my feet were kicking up limestone on the path, she wheeled around and yelled, "You are not a SHUFFLER,  you are a RUNNER!! RUN!"  That made me laugh. On the inside, though, because every ounce of energy was going into my feet and my legs. And it wasn't enough. 

As we got to the finish line, I started to hear people yelling my name. A lot of people. I am so fortunate to have so many dear friends at this event, and in my life, all cheering for me and pulling for me, and holding me in their hearts. Everyone was cheering for me. It was too much. I have that rule about crying on the course, but thankfully, it doesn't apply once you cross the line. I burst into tears nearly as soon as I crossed, once I was sure I wasn't going to puke or die, or possibly both. Those were frustrated tears, happy tears, grateful tears, tired tears, all kinds of emotions going on up in there. And then my friends gathered around me, and I got the BEST hug ever from E, who had a GREAT day on the 5k course, in her first race back in MONTHS. And E very quietly reminded me that we both walked that race last year. And she reminded me how far we've come. And then another lady came up to me, someone I didn't know, and told me that I had a strong race, and that she was following me and trying to catch me the whole time but couldn't. 

And then I was ok with whatever the clock said. Not right away, no, but as the day wore on, and I basked in the comfort and companionship of so many wonderful friends that morning over waffles and bacon, and when I drove home and my son asked me why I had "STRONG" written on one arm and "WAFFLES" on the other, then, well, then I was OK with what the clock said. 

We were accidental matchers. I love her. 

I said going in I had no time goals. I thought I might come in about five minutes faster, based on my training paces and what I'd been able to do on the treadmill. But I also knew that doing the bulk of my training on the treadmill was going to be a hindrance to my heat acclimation. I owned that. But that was a choice I consciously made so that I would be more sure to hit my paces. I knew it would bite me, and it did.  The heat sapped my strength and it sapped my drive. 

I also knew that the voices in my head, comparing myself to the Runner That I Used to Be, were going to be strong. I just didn't realize how strong until I got out there. I have to reconcile to my current state, or I'm just going to keep poisoning myself during races. I have to embrace the new me and the new paces and look for improvement from yesterday, not chase PRs from two years ago, when my body and my life were oh so different. And that's hard to do. But it's something to work on, along with holding my head up when I run, and breathing properly, and remembering to pick up my feet.  Because I am a work in progress, not a finished product. 

So while I was initially disappointed in my result, I also know that I WILL get to where I want to be. It might not be in October, at my next big goal race. It might not be for a long while. But I do know that all along the way, and waiting for me when I get there, will be an amazing group of people with whom I've somehow been lucky enough to collide paths. And there will be one helluva a party. You're invited. 

Sweaty, hot and awesome. 

How did I ever get so lucky? 

Splits, because I have them, and because they so elegantly describe the GIANT IMPLOSION:

 9:46 - Hey!! Slow it down, Sparky!
10:14.24 - much more realistic, but the damage was done.
11:13:36  - is it me, or is it hot out here??
11:54:03  - add 30 seconds or so...
12:21:09  - and another 30 seconds or so...
12:57:48  - and another....
(.25) 2:43.12 (10:53 avg) - quickened pace from the Frunner Love! 

Shout-outs: 

to Drum, for being my pacer. For being real with me. For telling me what I needed to hear, when I needed to hear it. For Not Coddling That Sh!t. I love you! 

to That Pink Girl, for lending me her marker, and running me in the last .10 of a mile. and holding my sweaty visor, and reminding me to smile all the time, because it's worth it. 

to MK, and Mr K, for sharing their love and their home and their bacon. Being around all these amazeballs friends makes me realize that I am such a blessed person. 

to E, for reminding me of the journey and that it isn't over yet. and for the BEST hug in the world. 

We sometimes share a brain. This is a good thing. 

The Knee

if you've read any of this blog for any amount of time, you know I have a bum knee. On occasion I have had two bum knees.  And if you've been reading lately, you know I'm doing a new training plan that is pretty intense.

My omnipresent knee brace. Don't leave home without it. 'cept I haven't needed it. 

It's called Run Less, Run Faster. It comes highly recommended by some peeps I know who have experienced some amazeballs PRs using it.  And as I have alluded to in some previous entries, it's a tough plan. There are no junk miles. There is not a high volume of miles. I'm doing the 10k plan right now, and after a 10k next week will be transitioning to the half-marathon training plan for my big goal race in October. My total volume has been about 20 miles a week. 

But a big component of the training plan is cross-training, which I've been getting on the bicycle (sometimes on the rowing machine at the gym, but mostly on the bicycle). And last night, after a particularly tough interval set in which I hit puke threshold not once but twice, as the endorphins wore off and I settled into bed, I had a realization. A realization that convinced me that even if I don't have crazy-drastic improvement in my times (something I won't know until race day come October), this training plan is working.  And that realization is:

MY KNEE DOESN'T HURT.

It doesn't ache as I drift off to sleep like it typically does. It doesn't snap, crackle, pop like it used to. It doesn't draw attention to itself at all.

I don't know if it's the reduced miles, or the cross-training, or the combination of both. Now, will that hold up once I start piling on more miles in the half training plan? I'm not sure. I won't know until later in July and August. But I do know I'm doing long runs of 8 and 10 miles right now with no problems. And that, friends and neighbors, is something to rejoice in on this Wednesday.

Now, what are YOU joyful about today?

I'm a Pepper!

Start line at Dublin Dr Pepper Ride

So, I told you the other day that I'm hanging out with all these active fitness types... ATHLETES and stuff. They're a tough crowd. Somehow they make all these adventure things sound perfectly normal and acceptable and, oh, I don't know... achievable.  Even for me. And the thing is... for the most part, they're right (they're also a pretty smart group of peeps).

So Saturday morning dawned bright and early, and TPG and I set off to Dublin, Texas to get this thing underway. TPG had a night in Fort Worth Friday night so she bunked with me (and my nosey cat) so we could leave together for our rendezvous with Team K for the 90-ish minute drive. I am so grateful that she so graciuosly offered to ride with me on this first-time rally. I'm not sure that I would have actually done this ride if she hadn't. I would have thought about it, considered it, gone back and forth about it, and then probably ended up letting it come and go without actually ever signing up.  Instead, here I was, with Reveille hooked up on the back of TPG's car next to hers, and me in a bright yellow jersey looking like a yellowjacket, actually doing this thing.

After a very scenic drive through Granbury and Stephenville and all these county names we only recognized through weather alerts on the news, we arrived at Dublin High School and easily parked the car for packet pickup, with about 45 minutes to spare before the start of the ride.  That gave us plenty of time to hit the indoor potties, inflate our tires, get sunscreened up, and get final checks on all the bikes. Then it was time to roll up to the front of the school for the national anthem and the start by airhorn.

My riding partners. LOVE! 

Team K! Always have a ridiculous time with these two! 

 It was a staggered start, with the 62 mile riders leaving a few minutes before we did, followed by the 9-milers. That helped alleviate some of the crowding, which set my mind at ease significantly.  I had two separate people tell me that I really needed to watch out for the other cyclists, as someone who didn't know what they were doing might end up taking me out (never mind that the "someone who didn't know what they were doing" might just be me...).  But with the staggered start, it wasn't terribly crowded and we soon enough got rolling and spread out as we headed down the driveway and out of the front entrance of the school.  Ready or not, here we go!!

I honestly don't remember much about this segment, except that we were actually passing quite a few people.  Mr K took off like he was on fire, with TPG following behind him and then MK and I came up after, as we were trying to get comfortable and get in a good groove.  I was tentative at first, as there were just so many cyclists out on the road. It was pretty impressive to look up relatively flat Hwy 6 in front of us and see cyclists spread out as far as you can see.  Definitely fun, but also crazy unsettling, especially for me. I would have taken a pic, but there was no way I was reaching back into my pocket for my phone while I was riding. Nope, not me.  So you'll have to trust me that it was cool.

Dr Pepper, y'all! 

Before we knew it, we were at the first aid station. Already? SWEET!  And yes, literally sweet, as they were pouring out high-octane Dr Pepper for the riders, as well as handing out cookies, fruit and other snacks.  We took our time to refill bottles (except mine were full because I didn't dare try to reach down and grab mine for a drink because I was either shifting madly trying to make it up a hill or holding on for dear life as I careened down a hill) and then when we were ready, we hit the road again. 

Could they be any cuter?! 

The second segment went pretty much the same way, except by this time, Mr K had figured out the whole "multiple gears" thing and wasn't just pedaling like a madman, he was pedaling with a purpose. MK and TPG were way stronger than me on the uphills (here's me, acting surprised), but with this little thing I call "gravity assist," I was able to pass them on the downhill segments.  At one point, as I went by them, I yelled that I knew they'd catch me on the uphills so I was just going to get what I could at that time and didn't mean to be rude by passing them up. There was a particularly wicked climb in this section that gave me a tough time, as I ran out of gears before I got to the top, but I did make it without having to get off the bike and walk, so I am counting that as a huge victory.  Also noteworthy on this segment was the lady who remarked to me that I looked strong as I passed her on an uphill. She asked if this was my first time doing this ride and I told her it was my first ride ever. She said she's been riding hills for a while and yet I looked pretty good as I passed her. THAT made my day! Pretty quickly after that we reached the second aid station and after more Dr Pepper and more watermelon, we regrouped and decided to ride the rest of the way together. 

KOOS! Somehow, Mr K & I missed the donkeys. Sad koala. 

We also decreed that when we saw cows or donkeys that we would have to call a screeching halt to the ride for pictures. We were surprised that we hadn't seen any thus far.  Although to be honest, it took me long enough to get comfortable again and I could have ridden by Martians and wouldn't have noticed.  But, we did find some cows and had to stop and take picture of them. Even if they were uncooperative and wouldn't come closer. Stupid cows. This part was uneventful, and the hills on this segment were not terribly remarkable - lots of long slow rollers. By then I'd gotten into a really nice groove and was in that zone where I felt like I could have ridden all night. The Texas countryside was so scenic, and I was having so much fun with my friends. It was a gorgeous sunny day, hot but not unbearable, and I really was having an amazing time. 

By the time we hit the third aid station, I was almost sad to know that in just a few minutes we would be done, and while I was excited about the accomplishment, I didn't want it to end. On this part, we all took off at the same time, with Mr K and I in the lead. By this time, we were both comfortable on the gears, and this segment was a nice comfortable stretch of nothing too complicated.  We chatted as we rode, talking about how great our friends are, and how lucky we have been to fall in with such a good crew of active adventurous people. Basically, we were just having a time. As we neared the little town, we saw the signs pointing us to the finish, and we started celebrating having completed our first rally. But first, we had to cross a small patch, about two or three blocks' worth, of cobblestones. Aaaaaah - definitely a "lift up off your seat" occasion for us!! As we crossed, spotters read our numbers off our backs and announced us to the crowd. YAY! We finished!! And we didn't crash or fall or anything. Just rode and stepped outside that comfort zone and ended up having a great time doing it! 

All smiles at the finish. Before we realized we'd dropped our friends... (Hey, HE dropped his wife!!)

So we cross, and we go over and grab yet another can of ice cold Dr Pepper, and turn around and realize that TPG and MK should be right behind us. But they weren't. Um.... ruh-roh.  What happened? Cell service had been spotty since we got near Dublin and we had been unable to update our friends reliably on the route, so it was not surprising that we had missed text messages from them telling us they had tire issues. But they didn't say who had the issue, or where, or what. Oh noes!! (never mind the guilt that we never even though to look behind us and notice that they weren't there - BAD BICYCLE BUDDIES!!).  We were confident they could handle it and would be along shortly, so we found a place in the shade to hang out and wait. After a while, we started to get nervous and were about to hop back on the bikes and backtrack to find them, but just as we made that decision, here comes MK, smiling and happy. But what about TPG?  After MK got her obligatory Dr Pepper, she filled us in on the mishaps with TPG's tire, including a lost tool, a spring gone missing, the most elderly sag wagon driver ever and a 'sploded tube. WTF, Patel?! Sadly, she was forced to ride the sag wagon back to the start, where she was waiting for us.  So frustrating! And after all she had done to build up our confidence and make sure that the three of us had an amazing debut ride.  

Thank you, Dublin!! LOVED IT!  

How about that? I finished. 34 miles. We didn't worry too much about time, and we lingered at the rest stops without concern for how long we'd been there (an ultra no-no), but for this day, that was just fine. It was the longest ride for the three of us, by ten miles for me, by more than that for Team K. This ride was about learning to shift (concept), gaining confidence on the bike, reaching beyond the comfort zone, and oh, yeah, HAVING FUN.  Check, check, check and CHECK.

Turns out those people I hang out with, who all said, "You can do it!"? Turns out they were right. We had a great inaugural ride, and I can promise you, it won't be the last one!!

Well, that looks like fun...

I love to race. It's no secret I'm kinda sorta addicted to hardware.  I have signed up for races based on nothing more than the pretty shiny thing they offer at the end (sometimes it ends well, sometimes, NOT SO MUCH - exhibit A - Four Seasons Challenge).  But if I had to boil down why I love racing so much, it's not so much the races themselves, but the people that I get to see at races that makes it fun for me.  I love the atmosphere and the camaraderie, mutual support and encouragement that can be found at a race, no matter the distance. I have discovered that one of the best ways to see that and experience all the fun but without all the dang work is to spectate at a race. And the bigger the group of spectators, and the more obnoxiously garbed and gotten up, the better!!

Must have glitter signs. And be visible from space. 

We cheered, we crewed, some paced. Good times with good people.

A little FIGJAM always helps! 

Tutus are optional, but always make an impact! 

Dressing like a giant marshmallow peep makes it easy to be spotted.

But here's the deal.  The reason that it is so much fun to spectate is that you get to see not only your friends, but other athletes, of all ages, shapes, sizes and abilities pushing themselves to excel, to be faster, stronger, better. And sometimes, it hurts to race. Not injury-wise, we've seen our share of that sadly, but that's not what I mean. No, it hurts to push past the comfort zone, to stretch just a little bit more, to go beyond uncomfortably comfortable and really see just how far your body can go. And when you cheer at a race, and position yourself at Mile 23 of a marathon, or Mile 3 of a 5k, or at the exit of the swim at a triathlon, you are seeing people pushing themselves.  And that is so inspiring. Trust me. If you don't get revved up to run or jump on a bicycle or throw yourself into a lake when you spectate at an event like this, you might need to check your pulse. 

The thing is, you can't just sign up for these events and then show up.  Well, of course, you can.  But just because you can, doesn't mean you should.  There is training involved, and dedication, and weeks of pushing and testing limits and fine-tuning every aspect of race day.  "Make it hurt now so it doesn't hurt so much tomorrow" is how one of my friends put it. When the gun goes off, or they yell "Go!" all those weeks and months of effort pay off.  I like watching elites at these things, for sure, and seeing the AG winners is crazy-exciting too (especially when you KNOW them!! yay!). But if you want to see the real pay-off, hang out at the end of an race. Stick around and see the newbies, the back of the packers, the people who are completing their first attempt at an event. Because that is where you will see so much heart and so much determination. These are the ones that really take an extra bit of encouragement to heart. And these are the athletes that are so inspiring to me to watch and to cheer my fool head off for.

I've been thinking a lot about "the company you keep" and what that means in regards to my life. Certainly I want to surround myself with positivity, with people who are upbeat and motivating, and who live life widely. I joke all the time about needing to find fat, lazy friends, because the people I've been hanging out with lately are all athletes who thrive on pushing their limits and searching for new ways to be physically active, whether it is by swimming, cross-fit workouts, marathon and ultra running, cycling 100-milers, training for IronMan, yoga, or a combination of all of the above. I tell you what - it's hard to be a slug on the couch when you hear about these girls' workouts, sometimes multiple workouts in a day, and hard stuff, too.  Double-digit runs on the weekdays, bike rides longer than most people drive in a week. It's awesome. Watching and cheering for these friends is so rewarding to see, to see them reap the rewards of their hard work.  And it can be intimidating, but I choose instead to take their energy and feed of it and create some of my own. 

It's led me to follow a much more rigid and intense training plan than I have ever followed before for my running. Because of them, I've signed up for this 34-mile ride this weekend. No, it's not much in comparison to a 100-miler, but it's plenty for me. For now. Baby steps. And a stretch for me. Being with these people has also demonstrated to me time and again that we all have our own mountains to climb (some of us literally!) and our own battles to fight, and we can't compare ourselves to others, because that's just a losing proposition.  But we can use the accomplishments and daily motivations of others to drive us, and to inspire us, and we can band together and feel stronger and faster and more alive than if we were going at all of our endeavors alone. We can celebrate our accomplishments together. The hive mind is a powerful thing, y'all. 

Whew.  That's an awful lot of deep thoughts resulting from a morning or two of shaking my booty and screaming at a triathlon, isn't it??  Yeah it is. See what happens when you take a break from racing and take a minute or two to take it all in? It opens up all kinds of possibilities.  All kinds. 

Stay tuned. 

Five Things Friday: The Bicycle Edition

These guys were awesome. Spandex GALORE!

5.  It's SUMMER TIME!!! By that, I mean that it's donkey-balls hot already (insert reminder about how much I love Texas here) and the kidlets are done with school.  I have a high school senior and a junior high kid in my house now. Commence midlife crisis in 3...2.... Nope, no time for crisis around here. Got a summer full of driver's ed, theatre camp for both of them, hockey lessons, Scout camps, art camp and generally trying to keep them from killing each other. Good times, y'all. Good times. 

4.  My run training is coming along. I won't say nicely, because, y'all, it's hard. But it's getting done.  I have done a lot more of it than I expected on the treadmill at the gym, because I have completely lost all ability to maintain a given pace on the roads. That makes me sad, because I used to be crazy consistent with my pacing.  It will come back, I'm sure. But for now, I need to hit certain paces for each of these runs, so I'm doing them on the treadmill. Which, yeah, BORING.... But, still. DONE at the right paces and boring is way better than erratic pacing and nice scenery.  I have goals, y'all. 

3.  Spent a great evening with ridiculously amazeballs (TM)  friends up in south Oklahoma last week, watching really fit cyclists go really fast.  It was an event called "Bike the Bricks" in McKinney and it was way cool to see packs of cyclists zooming by.  They made this awesome breeze as they went by us.  It was groovy.

These girls. Not enough synonyms for awesome in Roget's. 

Ghost riders. Way cool. 

2.  And it got me pumped up (see what I did there??) to dust off Reveille* and go for a ride.  First I had to get it tuned up, since I hadn't ridden since the Great Donkey Ride of 2011 and I wasn't sure what all needed to be done to it.  But I took care of that and went for a nice leisurely spin on the bike paths near me. FUN! It's perfect crosstraining for the training plan I'm using, and I forget how much I really do enjoy riding, even though I am a total n00b and don't even know how to shift gears properly.  I pretty much find a gear that seems to work and just pedal. I'll figure it out. For now, I'm just having fun. 

1.  And diving in headfirst, with a 34-mile ride in Dublin next weekend.  Yep, TPG has graciously offered to accompany chaperone babysit me on my inaugural bike rally.  I'm beyond askerid. But ready for the challenge.  I think. With her at my side (have I mentioned how awesome this girl is, BTW?) I am in good hands, and I know she'll not only coach me on some rudimentary riding tips, but also feed my energy with her positivity. Plus, HELLO!  A day with TPG!!  And Dr Pepper at the finish! SCORE!! 

TPG kinda rocks my world. Super sweet and I can't wait to hang out with her for 34 miles!

We'll take another pic like this after our ride. Except we'll leave the fleece at home. 

So, there you go. Now go take on the day!! I'm going for a ride. Or a run. Or to have a small panic attack. It's sixes,really... 

*I am borrowing  a bicycle from a great girl named Katie. She and her hubby are Aggies of the WORST sort best kind, like Corps of Cadets peeps and all that. But she is in graduate school right now and not really riding, so she's letting me use her bicycle as long as I want. Um, THANK YOU! And in her honor, I call the bike Reveille, as in the Aggie mascot.  It gives those of us die-hard Longhorns a nice giggle when they find out the name of my loaner ride. I call it a homage to the awesomeness of Katie. It's the least I can do! 

Thursday Thirteen: The Randomness Edition

These are completely random, stream-of-consciousness (and this is different from the rest of the blog how??), thirteen things I'm thinking about today:

I'm kinda sorta obsessed with this guy right now. Go Rangers! 

1. I love baseball.  We've talked about this before. But, really, I do love this game. Rainouts and off days make me grumpy. 
2. My next big race is a 10k. In July. That kinda freaks me out, but at the same time, I am enjoying it.  The marathons will wait. The trail races will wait. For now, I am enjoying being able to do things like meet my girls for breakfast on a Saturday morning, or sleep in on Sundays. It's refreshing, and it's helping me find balance in my life again. 
3. I used to loathe the treadmill.  So much so that I gave mine away.  But now, with this new training plan that requires specific paces for the speed work, I have forged a truce of sorts with the treadmill. It keeps me honest, keeps me from going too fast or too slow. Having baseball on the tube above me (see #1) helps keep me on it through my workout, too. 
4. that's not to say it's all rainbows and kittehs with the treadmill. I had an 8 mile long tempo run scheduled for Sunday. I knew I wanted to hit a certain pace, and I frankly didn't trust myself to do it properly on roads. So, with Hubs and a fully charged iPod in tow, I went to the gym and planned for 8 miles of running. After one mile, my stomach was in full revolt. After two miles, it had settled down, but I knew if I stayed on the treadmill I would NOT finish the run. I'd find someway, some reason to get off early (It's hot, I'm tired, is this making a weird noise? The guy next to me smells. Etc, etc.).  So, I hopped off,  handed my husband my towel and hit the streets for the six mile run home. At that point, I wasn't sure if I would hit my paces, and really, at that point, I didn't care. I just had made the decision that getting the miles in at any pace would be better than bailing on them because I wanted to tear my eyeballs out in boredom. So I ran the six miles home. And, what do you know? Hit my paces PERFECTLY!  BOOM! 
5. Somewhat related: Dear 24-Hour Mansfield, please for the love of Snackpacks, TURN ON THE FREAKIN' AIR CONDITIONER!! Thank you.  
6. About that speedwork... I've been to a couple of track workouts with my local running club, but timing-wise it didn't really work to have speed on Mondays after a long run on Sundays or a trail run over the weekend. So this new training plan with specific paces and intervals (400s? What?) is a brand new ballgame for me. I very much feel like I want to die when I'm done. Which, I am told, is evidence that I am doing them right. Yay. 
7. I'm only on week four of this traning plan but so far I'm liking it.  They are very hard workouts, no extra easy miles for the sake of getting mileage in. I definitely feel like I'm working during them. I am exhausted when I'm done, but at the same time, I feel stronger than I did just a few weeks ago. And the knee is behaving, which is most excellent. 
8. I need to learn to swim again. The training plan I have specifies swimming as a preferred cross-training method. I can dig that, except the workout says to do a specified number of "easy" laps in half an hour. With my swimming ability, that number of laps would take me about 90 minutes. No joke. So I'm working on. Slowly.  I ordered Total Immersion videos off one of the Fraggles, or Snaggles, or whatever those daily deal websites are. The videos come highly recommended by my triathlete friends, but I bet they work better if you don't leave them on your desk still in the wrapper. That's just a guess. 
9. My borrowed bicycle is hanging in the garage waiting for me to take it to the shop for a tune-up and new inner tube. Yes, I KNOW. I need to learn to change the tire myself. I'll get there. Soon. For now, I need to have it fit me properly. Baby steps here, folks.  But all my Frunners have gotten all up into cycling lately and it's making me slightly okay a LOT jealous. I remember riding my bike all around town when I was in college and home for the summer. It was fun. I want to do that again. I WILL do that again. 
10. We're going to Washington, DC for summer vacation this year.  A week in the Nation's capitol.  I can't wait. I'm glad the kids are old enough to appreciate the stuff we'll be seeing. I've been informed there will be at least ONE day of ghost tours at Gettysburg and/or other historic battlefield sites.  My kids rock. 
11. My oldest son was Peter Pan in his school's spring musical. We're pretty sure he was cast because his skater legs looked best in the green tights. The fact that for a kid with very little theater or musical training he totally nailed the part is really just bonus. Now, the little one wants to do theater camp this summer too. Also, we watched West Side Story together as a family the other night. Have I mentioned that my kids rock? 
12. My husband started driving the EBV to work some days after I got my Jeep this winter. It saves mileage on his mid-life crisis Mustang and is more fuel-efficient. He was in a 5-car pileup on the highway a few weeks ago, and thankfully, they said they could repair it. Still in the shop, though, so we will see how good a job they do with it. I really do love my new Jeep, but I gotta admit, I felt a huge pain in my heart when I saw the front of the EBV all crunched up. That car's been so good to me!! I'm glad we'll be getting it back. I miss seeing it's happy blueness in my driveway!
13. Work is always crazy in May. Always. This year is no different. Reason #42 I'm glad I have the new training plan that is less time-consuming right now than a full-out marathon plan that I would have to start yesterday if I was doing an early fall marathon. Sanity prevails sometimes around here, y'all. Sometimes. 

Marathon training hadn't left me much time for these girls. Must fix that!

With Joy in My Heart

"Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot... rinse, repeat.  If you do right foot, right foot, then you're skipping, and all of a sudden, you're having FUN!!"

Frunners - running and cheering - pre-race at the hotel.
I LOVE THESE PEOPLE!! 

That's what I told my friend Marci on Sunday morning, as we stood in the corrals at Oklahoma City, waiting for our turn to cross the start line. We were both anxious about her race, about how she would do when facing down the demons at Mile 23. I knew that her paces would be faster than mine and as soon as we crossed the timing mat that I wouldn't see her again until after my race when I backtracked to the spot where she was picked up off the course. But I said that to her just as much as I needed to hear it for myself. 

The race two weeks earlier at Big D was disastrous for me. The weather was horrid, sticky humid and then pouring down rain. I couldn't ever get into a good breathing rhythm, I hurt so bad starting at mile 3, and I bitched and moaned and whined the whole way. I broke my "race commandment" and cried on the course. A lot. I cried painful tears, because my legs really did ache more than they ever had during a race, any race. I cried grieving tears, because I think this was the first time I had seriously cried since my father passed away last June. I cried ugly angry tears, because I was mad at myself for letting my training slip and thinking I could still pull off a half-marathon. I wasn't having fun during that race. I didn't seek out any of my Frunners, even though I knew plenty were out and about. I didn't want to be there. And I had a miserable day. It showed in my time, the slowest since New Year's Day, and a full 15 minutes slower than Cowtown. And it showed in how emotionally spent I was at the end of it. When I saw my dear friend Mark handing out medals at the finish line, I all but collapsed into his arms, just so glad to be done, and so grateful to have a tight hug to start to make things better.

I KNEW that my results at Big D were not representative of what I could do. I know I haven't fallen THAT far off my fitness since Cowtown.  Post-race, I realized that the big difference was my mental outlook that day. I didn't want to be there. I was tired. I had just had a tetanus booster that made my entire body ache, and in fact, during the race, my whole left arm was in pain whenever I tried to use my arms to boost myself up the hills.  I wasn't invested in this race and it showed in my performance.

I came to Oklahoma knowing that I wanted it to be a different race experience. Really, I had considered for a brief moment not doing the half at all, and just cheering for Marci. I wanted to be ready to fully support her and be there for her if and when she needed me.  But like the incredible friend that she is, she told me that I had business to take care of there, too, and that if I wanted to run, I should run. For me, it wasn't about last year, it was about getting back on the horse and seeing what I really could do, and getting the joy back.  So I signed up, and planned to meet her at the Mile 23 medical tent, and I set out to run with joy in my heart.

The weather was atrocious on race morning.  We had been awoken at 2 AM by wind, rain and what sounded like hail on the hotel windows.  When we stepped out on the street, the humidity immediately enveloped us, and the air was thick and heavy, with grey clouds around reinforcing the 40 percent chance of rain. We had our ponchos, and I wore my rain jacket over my orange shirt and longhorn shorts, because I knew I wanted to represent Texas and UT while running through the streets in Sooner country. It was not a PR day.  But we knew that if it rained, we'd be OK. We've run in the rain. We knew that if it was hot, we'd be OK, maybe slower than we wanted, but we have certainly run in the heat. We knew there were hills on the course, but we knew we could handle those.  All we had to do was go out and remember: right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot, rinse, repeat.

We were in Corral C. WAYYYY in the back. 

I took pictures in the hotel lobby when all our friends showed up to meet us for the walk to the start.  I took pictures outside the porta-potties, in the corral, and I snapped a quick pic as we crossed the start, before I hit my watch.  But then, I put the phone away. I didn't text, shoot pics or mess with my music for the whole race (except at mile 12 to tell Amy & Drum I was nearly done and would be headed their way shortly). I just RAN. And, guess what?  I had fun. I smiled. I waved to the volunteers, high-fived little kids, and begged for people to "hook 'em horns" for me. I got a kick out of the reactions from people as I did that - some laughed and relented, some just shook their heads, but with a smile, and some very enthusiastically gave me a high hook!! It was fun!!

What's surprising is that the weather at this race ended up being very close to what we had at Big D. Hot and humid, then a little bit of relief with the rain after about 6-7 miles.  But unlike at Big D, where I just whined and complained, I didn't let it bother me this time. I just went with it. I passed a few groups of firefighters in full gear with full marathon bibs on and thought, well, if I think I'm hot, I don't even want to think how hot these guys are. I know where the hills on this course are, having done the full for two years now, so I knew what i was up against.  And I handled them as best as I could. And I kept smiling.

This was about an hour after I finished.
Between the rain, sweat & pouring water on my head, my hair was kind of a mess. 

I was so involved in having a good time that I nearly missed Amy and Drum at mile 6, and would have gone right by them if they hadn't started yelling at me  I cut across the street to get hugs and a picture from where they were standing on a bus bench, then continued on my merry way.  I stopped at the half/full split and turned around and yelled at the full marathoners, "YOU PEOPLE ROCK MY FACE OFF!!" and was overjoyed to see Jennifer Fletcher, my OK girl running her first full, right there! I ran over to her and gave her a big hug and told her she rocked, and that exchange right there put a pep in my step for the next mile!  And so I ran.  I ran a bit here, walked a bit there, but for the most part, I just ran. I kept up a pretty good clip for the first 7 or 8 miles, then I found myself walking more, and slowing down some. But instead of having a fit about it, I just took a deep breath, and kept smiling. And kept going. Pretty soon, I was headed toward the finish, at Mile 10/Mile 23, and I started to remember landmarks from last year.  This is where Fi and Marci ducked into the Vietnamese sandwich shop so Fi could go potty. This is where I picked up the garbage bag off the lawn. This is where I stopped for biofreeze for my knee. This is where they put Marci in the van....

And as I ran, walked, slogged, whatever, I kept a positive mental attitude.  I was glad to have come back, and I was glad to be feeling pretty strong for such a miserable day and a hilly course.  I wondered about Marci's pace, about MK's attempt to qualify for a corral for Chicago.  I was tired, yes, and hot (I dumped cups of water down my shirt and on my head even when it was pouring rain), and my legs were screaming from the hills. But I kept moving, and I was happy.  And when I finished, it was with a smile on my face and joy in my heart. I was nearly 10 minutes faster than Big D. Slower than Cowtown, but that's OK. I slowed down a LOT in the last four miles, but that's OK, too. I was happy. And really, that was exactly what I needed.

FRUNNER FINISH LINE!! 

Bling me! 

Mission accomplished for this race. It was a nice note in a fabulous weekend with some really good people. I really enjoy the company of my friends, and race road trips are just a special kind of happiness for me. We forge relationships on these trips, and to me, that just makes everything better and more fun. I don't know that I will come back to Oklahoma and do this race again, maybe the half, maybe on a weekend when the Race Weather Gods aren't out to torture us. But I do know that for my own reasons, this is once again, a Race to Remember. 

PS. Marci finished the race, upright and smiling, too. It was GREATNESS!! But that's her story to tell. Stay tuned.