Pendleton and a Spark

Yesterday Kyle and I raced the Camp Pendleton sprint triathlon. 500m swim, 18 mile bike, 5k run. A fun little trip around the LCAC facility against my favorite sailor. 

They didn't have an elite wave {not that I'm elite, but I like head to head competition}, so I started 30 min behind Kyle. I knew with the shorter swim, we'd be closer in time, but I didn't realize how close...

I stood at the swim exit waiting for Kyle. 12 min, 15 min...did I miss him? I meandered back to the start and glanced back, was that him? T-Rex running arms and head down, yep. 18 min, seriously Kyle?!

My wave went off with a few big breaks, and some current, and I over compensated, because the previous waves were getting pulled north and I found myself south of the first buoy. Seriously, rachel?

I had a good chuckle at the halfway point thinking back to Kyle's exit. 

Caught a decent wave in and struggled through the sand. Hopped on my bike and was on a mission. Unfortunately I saw Kyle at my mile 5. What?! Made note of my time and got to the turnaround 15 min later. Crap, 12min back to the spot I saw him. So now I'm only 3 min up. He made up almost his entire losses from the swim?! My run is going to hurt.

Got back to T2 and chugged up the large launching ramp and saw Erin and Kyle at the corner. Ran as hard as I could, switching up my stride to utilize every possible firing muscle. Saw Kyle before the final straight away and he encouraged me to stride it out. I rarely sprint for the finish, and I'm not sure why. Maybe I thought I looked ridiculous. Maybe I remember running too fast through my Ironman finish chutes, and wished I had savored the moment more? But this was a sprint and so a sprint finish was necessary. 

Moral of the story; it mattered. Beat Kyle by 11 seconds. Not a typo. A far closer race than the 6 min at Carlsbad!!

Do I care that it was a minute slower than my first year racing triathlon? Or 9 slower than last year? Honestly, no. You get what you deserve. What you train for. But it sparked something inside. 

I know it's only August and typically people wait till Jan 1 for New Years resolutions. But that's always forced by a date and maybe that's why they don't work. It's not genuine, it's tradition. Yesterday I was inspired by my lack of speed. I know it sounds arrogant because I still won my age group, but that didn't matter to me. I know it wasn't the best my body is capable of. It was my best on the day, and that's all I can ask. But it's not all I can do. So next year, pending we don't have to move, I'm coming prepared. 

Challenge 2016: PR all "my" local races. 

Desert Tri Olympic

Super Seal Sprint

Spring Sprint

San Diego International

Carlsbad

Semper Tri

And if we are still in the southwest: SOMA (Now Tempe 70.3) and have that be Kyle's first half ironman.

Now I need a plan. And I'm sure it'll include a lot of running. Time to

Embrace the suck. 

First goal? Lose the excess weight holding me back that'll likely cause injury while running. 

Second phase? Gain back fitness. 

Lastly, the speed shall come. Sparks. I will be fast. Positive thoughts produce positive results. 

Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life

So why not "race" a sprint triathlon?! At the last minute working the expo today, I decided to toe the line tomorrow. Got my timing chip, bib number and swim cap {and all the other crap! you need for a triathlon} and I'm ready as I'll ever be to begin again.

{last year}

Excuses:

1) I'm 20lbs over weight

2) I've got maybe 15 run miles total since Superfrog last October. 

3) Kermit's odometer hasn't moved. {he did get a good bath the other week}

4) I've swam to the 1/4 mile buoy at the cove a handful of times. Slowly and for fun only. More like floating out there to clear my mind. 

5) I pulled my rib two weeks ago and it's been touch and go for taking deep breaths, swimming, living. {yes, dramatic}

Reasons:

1) Why not?

2) It's one of the perks of my job. {unpaid, but free}

3} I need to kickstart my body & heart:

It's been almost a year since I lost myself. Love is an odd and wonderful emotion. I feel like I only have so much to give. I know there are people out there with endless amounts. But most have a breaking point. I don't think I realized how hard Kyle's heart journey would be, and sometime after last July I stopped loving myself. I was {and still am} worried about him. His heart. His career. Our life together. And unfortunately, I lost sight of the present in looking towards an uncertain future. 

We listened to an interesting NPR podcast {TED radio hour, "Shifting Time"} on the way home from Phoenix about time. How there isn't a present, only a past and the future. What does being in the moment truly mean? 

I realized I've been looking towards an unknown future with a past that is empty. 

So it's time for a change. 

Ready or not, here I come, future. One stroke, revolution and step at a time.  

4am. 

Count von Count

I've added another member to the family. Super Grover was sold to a nice OB fireman who had his bike stolen. The replacement is Parlee's new AltumR in Rivera blue. I was actually so impressed by the stock paint that I just ordered it!

super grover's very excited new owner

I opted for the Shimano Dura-Ace Di2 build and stayed with the Rolf Élan wheelset. {Albeit a new pair, since I sold Grover with the old set.} Jim was pretty much nerding out over my build, and he did some custom work that even had the Japanese engineers for Shimano dura-ace perplexed. It was awesome to see the look on their faces. "Where do you charge it?"

The bike is finished with a Zipp SL70 aero internally routed bar, Zipp SCSL stem and the ever amazing Parlee seat post. Super comfortable and lighter than the Zipp; yet I'm just a big fan of the elegant lines. I use a Fizik Vesta saddle. 

I snapped a couple of photos on his maiden voyage. I've done a couple races. And sadly last month I took him down at Barrio Logan. My body took the brunt of it, as the Count came out with only a few scratches on the shifters and the edge of the saddle. Paint and frame survived unscathed! 

Here's to many more adventures aboard my favorite bike.

In-Limbo

It's no surprise that I've had a tough year and an even tougher time breaking free from that curse. Our current in-limbo situation is definitely not helping. It's hard to put anything on the calendar or even create goals, when I'm not sure what we'll be doing or where we'll be next week/month/year. Okay drastic much, I'll be right here next week.

Last month our landlord broke the news that she was moving her father into our unit and we had 60 days to vacate. Unnecessary drama added to the in-limbo period, and we were almost screwed out of a place we fell in love with. A last minute deal by all 3 parties, and we were in the new place by mid-May. We've sadly moved out of our beloved 92107, but the rental market is ridiculous there. We miss the convenience of OB, but are loving our new place in Point Loma. Bigger windows, breezy, and a back yard that we've already been able to entertain with. Oh, and a million dollar view of the San Diego Bay, downtown, Coronado, bridge skyline.

Kyle has been put through the ringer with finding new orders. I don't even want to talk about that.

I've been having a much harder time coming back from this crash than I anticipated. Both of my crashes on Cookie Monster left me itching to get back out there. To stay in shape as best I could and I had a fire to ride again. Maybe I'm too far removed, but this feels different. Darker and lonelier. It's not only my back that hurts. I wasn't in a good place before the crash, and I thought racing would bring me back to me. Sadly, it brought me to the ground.

Before Barrio I had a bit of déjà vu. I felt like I was just here. Bummed out by my own community. Disappointed by my peers, sad and angry at the attacks taken towards myself and others for standing up against something offensive to me. It was almost a year ago that Kyle and I were hurt via social media, but I feel the wound hasn't healed.

I took a stance against something I did not like. I did not attack a person, but I brought forward an issue with company who was providing a service that I paid for. I was dissatisfied with the marketing materials {not to mention, offended} and in return, I was attacked for my views non-related. I was also asked to not participate in an event I registered for. Personal attacks, and it hurt. I'm not trying to re-open that wound, but I never wrote about it. 

I can't keep questioning why I do something. Why do I ride? For fun, for competition, to enjoy as much of my time we have left in California? It's not so simple anymore and sometimes I wish I could be a beginner again. {minus the mis-matched kits}

even the after shoes match, now.

Today I rode Palomar at the urging of my co-worker. I'm in the worst shape I've been in since moving to San Diego, and that was made evident by Strava. I had no business attacking that hill and I let it attack me. But I made it up. Slowly but surely. Music cranked. I may have cracked a smile or two. I enjoyed a coke at the top and of course, the descent! The only reason I climb hills is so I can fly down them. And then Cole Grade road stood between me and the car. The artificial finish line, that I never crossed. I sat under a tree and waited for the sag wagon.

Cole Grade cop out.

Haven't done that since Big Bear. Tried to avoid a pity party,  becoming thankful my body made it as far as it did today.

The quitting spot at Big Bear training for IM Tahoe in 2013

Those dreaded words, "So, what's next?" come up so often, because aren't we all defined by what we've done and where we are going? 

Next? I suppose a happy post about my new bike. And an update from the #plr2015 with my college roomies. 

Hitting the Ground

Ah barrio. My favorite race is now tarnished with an avoidable crash. I'm glad it was my fault because now I don't have to feel angry at anyone besides myself. And I'm also glad I didn't take out anyone else, as I'm not sure how one can live with that guilt. I'm not quite sure how to stomach my error. It was a momentary lapse in judgement. A look I should not have taken. And a painful reminder to look through the corner even after the road straightens out. 

I've been racing since 2010 and have never crashed in a race. I've been in a lot of near misses, close calls, and have been extremely lucky. Sadly, my luck ran out yesterday, at my favorite race. 

Kyle and I had a good warmup, riding to the race from OB. Got my number, passed my donated BWR entry fee for prime $$ onto Ralph for the w3/4, and got some spin ups and mini sprints done on the roads around the area. Did the warmup lap and felt okay. Wind would be a factor and I knew sitting in would be my only plan of the day. 

It wasn't as fast from the gun as usual. Paraded around the first couple of corners and got to the bottom of the hill. After the turn up, in the straights, 2 Skyflash girls and a monster media girl went down. Not sure what happened but it was enough in front of me that I easily avoided it. Had to work a bit to catch back on, but nothing major. Monster media girl eventually got back in after a trip to the wheel pit, and I asked her if she was okay. A couple laps later and there was a $50 cash prime lap. Moved up after corner 1,2,3 and was sitting 3rd wheel going down the hill which I thought was too close to the front. The lead girl pulled for much longer than expected so I decided to make my move wide just before the final corner. Stood and sprinted about as hard as I would in a final sprint because gosh darnit I wanted that cash. Got it. And strung out the field. 

Paid for it in the next 3 laps. Deanna was encouraging as I was quickly moving backward, to hang on and that she wouldn't let me get gapped. I was breathing like a large exhausted dog, and I'm sure others around me were concerned, or pleased. Sadly, my prime set up the attacks groups of 2/3 girls kept jumping from our bunch. As soon as I saw Joy go I knew I had to go, but wasn't recovered enough and knew my race was over. 

Dislodged the most disgusting loogie in my life onto the entire left side of my face and sunglasses. That was seriously gross. 

More laps of "is this over yet?" And "not sure how much longer I can hang on" and "I guess this isn't too bad"

I think I crashed with what would have been 3 laps to go. Headed into the final corner between two girls, the one on my right was further back. Wasn't anything abnormal or sketchy at all. I think I looked over my right shoulder as the corner was ending, because I had decided I wanted to move up. When I looked forward again I was heading right into the middle of the girl next to me on my left. Shit. She was following the pack and taking the corner extra wide and I had already started to straighten out, up the hill. I was in my drops, yet lost control of my front wheel as I rammed her. Props to her for keeping it up. All I remember seeing was someone's bar end cap in slow mo, falling through the air. And then I was down with my bike going over top of me. 

Lots of internal swear words, or maybe I thought they were internal. JT and some random man scooped me onto the sidewalk as I was more concerned about being in the way of the lead pack. Head/neck felt fine, but my back/hips were in a lot of pain. 

A terrible ambulance experience, 2 botched IV tries, a worse experience in X-ray, an hour wait at the pharmacy, and 30 min in the McDonald's drive through downtown and I was at my worst by the time we got home after midnight. 

I have a very bruised low back/pelvis area, nothing broken. Got milk? 

Laying down hurts. Sitting hurts. Nothing is comfortable, but especially not a metal scoop basket, an X-ray plastic board, and a toilet seat. Fml. 

Thank you to JT who filled out the paperwork and took Kyle and my bike back home so Kyle could get the car. Thanks to Andrea for riding with me in the ambulance and listening to my craziness while on drugs. Thanks for the words of encouragement. 

Should've put this at the top, cause this is all that really matters, but apparently my bike is okay! 

Very sadly, they had to skin me of my skinsuit. The consolidation prizes? I got photographed by Danny Munson and I won a $50 prime. 

Getting used to the unknown

I was always a planner, a goal maker, and an achiever. I had an uncanny ability to believe in myself and the certainty that every goal I had would be checked off. Living in northern Minnesota meant I still had room for fun and silliness. But I knew where I would be and had grand plans of the path needed to get there.

My husband is the exact opposite. He is spontaneous and free. That's probably why I was drawn to him after my collegiate career was finished. I had achieved all my goals and without anything on the horizon besides my upcoming employment at Wells Fargo, I realized I had the ability to be free too. He was different than any guy I had dated before and I loved the way he moved through life. 

We had a curvy road that eventually led us to where we are today. And as much as we try to influence each other, we still have the same personalities. We learn from each other and have a balance that works. Most of the time. :)

The planner in me was preparing for his next duty station. Craving every ounce of info I could get regarding the early release process, pcs'ing to the other side of the world, and the "what will I do?" unknown was exciting! I was planning our life in a foreign country and was excited by the prospect of the unknown. 

His heart, on the other hand, has taught me that not everything in life can be planned for. 

Two weeks ago I went to St. Louis to visit my best friend from high school, Annie, and meet her new bundle of joy, Aaron. I also snuck in a visit with Mr. Christopher Hanley, Moment's old mechanic. Had a great weekend even though it was fridged. I bought a new long down jacket just for the occasion. {It's currently 70 degrees in San Diego, the jacket is now useless.}

Back on the home front, Kyle was trying to ride his bike with some Brady-Cardia episodes. Unbeknownst to him, his heart rate was at 40 and not responding to effort. Not pumping blood to his extemedies thus his hand and feet were going numb. A DNF and back to the drawing board. Tuesday he tried to commute to work via his bike and made it 10 pedal strokes before turning back. I was on my own ride, so he drove himself to the ER. They admitted him and after a visit with his cardiologist, they decided the pacemaker was the only option. His EKG had totally flipped, going from his "normal" high heart rate svt with exercise and right bundle branch block, to this bradycardia episode with a left bundle block. Wtf. 

The first night they woke him for a scrub down and he passed out and his heart stopped for 9 seconds. His cardiologist was pissed when she found out the next morning and they hadn't moved him to the ICU or contacted her. After a long wait for the cath lab to open, he went down for the implantation. And came back a new boy. Kidding. 

He was released Thursday. He had a rough weekend and some odd palpitations but tried to trust in his new technology. Last Thursday was his pacer followup and wound check and he decided to throw some odd stuff at his docs. SVT, AVNRT, Brady. It all came while they had the monitor on. Unfortunately the cath lab is closed for maintenance so they put off his next ablation till tomorrow. He's had multiple "attacks" this weekend. So now he has to go back to the lab for hopefully his final (4th) ablation. To cut off his hearts ability to tick. And to fully rely on his pacemaker 100%. Because clearly his heart has demonstrated that it can't function properly. As he says, "Go home av node; you're drunk." 

Where are we at? In limbo. And it sucks. I promise I'll do a more positive post about my recent race experiences at VOS and the new San Diego Omnium. And my new bike! 

We are hanging in there. One day at a time. #willsdynasty

A slow start requires interaction

Slow and me aren't really friends. I'm a first born, type A, get shit done, fast and efficient, type of woman. I'm a swimmer, a triathlete and a bike racer. It's always been a race against the clock. And myself. Bigger, better, stronger. 

I think when I turned 30 I was in denial. There was no way I was going to slow down. I kept thinking I could pull off amazing without the work required. Or really, I wasn't aware of what 30 means to my body and mind. The work required was no longer the status quo, but so much more. Last summer was a harsh realization of "adult" issues. The health, marriage, waining fitness type of realities. I sometimes find my mind wandering to the past and find it hard to snap back to who I am now. Not dwell upon who I was. 

Yeah, I'm still "Rachee Gordon" as Kyle calls me. But I'm a bit more relaxed these days. Spazz and Ratchet the Hatchet {don't ask} are nicknames of the past. I'm still trying to get used to the slowed down version of me and sometimes it doesn't feel quite right.

I don't drink coffee. My coworkers know I drink too much soda. More out of habit and that 2:00 craving to crawl from my blood sugar crash that comes with with having a later lunch. I didn't used to require stimulants to keep me fast. I used to proclaim, "I'm high on life!"

Last night I went to yoga and used our new to us membership to the climbing gym/yoga studio. {Cross training is better than couch sitting.} The instructor was helpful with her body awareness cues and really spoke to me the entire session. Today I used that strength and length to really enjoy the ocean and each stroke that was given to me. There is something about a calm, crisp and clear ocean for a first light cove swim that forms clear, positive thoughts. And a bright smile. Jake can tell you, there is always a smile smeared on my face during those swims.  

I'm not sure why, but the struggle each morning to get out of bed is real and it's the worst it's ever been. It's a fight with my mind and excuses fly out like a newspaper hot off the press. But, I've never once regretted getting up. Upon experiencing and completing the morning activity, I'm always refreshed or trashed, but totally satisfied that I made the effort to move. So, why does the mind play games every morning, telling me my bed is much better? Stay. Be warm. Rest your eyes. 

Get up! Move! Love! Smile! Swim, bike, run, stretch...

**********

The activities that I've gravitated towards haven't necessarily been a team effort scenario. A race for the clock usually involves others, but not always towards a group effort. Individual performance is paramount. Here's where I think I've been going at it all wrong. Swimming is individual, but when did I have a solo practice? I laugh at my solo swims with great trepidation, knowing I don't have the drive to push myself. It's others who have always pushed me to be better {knowing or unknowing}. Triathlon is individual, and I mostly train alone.

And I wonder why motivation is lacking. 

I realize I need human interaction. The distractions of our daily lives have pulled me away from the things I love most. I find myself busier with back office stuff at work. Or ignoring my husband while I admire the 15th "like" on Instagram. 

That's not who I am, nor who I want to be. That's where I need your help. If you are still reading, you are either a) my mom, b) bored/distracted at work or in bed, or c) a friend who cares what the heck I've been up to. Either way, I need you to help me be accountable. Yell {or kindly remind me} to get off my phone. Invite me to ride! {currently not taking run invitations.} Lets climb, be yogis, drink wine, make a bonfire, enjoy the sunset {on my day off}. Let's race. 

The thing is, I don't want to slow down. I used to climb 3x a week in Minnesota, with friends who got me. I used to be more involved with the Tri Club of San Diego, volunteering and working out with others. I used to be the primary bike fitter at work. All of those experiences got me to who and where I am today. I don't necessarily need to try and recreate those activities and experiences, but I realize they all have human interaction as the common thread.

I chose not to have children so we can have the freedom to be fast. To be me. {Among MANY other reasons.} I promised my husband I wouldn't slow down. I just need others to push me harder, faster, longer, or to just get out of bed! I need that threat of getting dropped. Or the challenge to drop you. I need that date on the calendar. And maybe, those magnets in my bed will become a little less strong. 

So. If you want me to be your training partner, I'm here for the taking. I don't have a coach or a plan. I'm more than willing to join your route, your ride, your gym, your sunset view, your happy hour place. Please join my rides, our climbing gym, meet me at Pizza Port, Wonderland or the La Jolla Cove. All invites welcome, fast or slow. Anything is better than not moving. 

Interact. 

Email me for my phone number: rachel.anne.wills@gmail.com

Let's play.