30 Days [or less]

...give or take.

I wanted to try the 30 day run challenge for a couple of reasons:

1) I didn't think I could do it
2) I hate running [okay so that's not a good reason; onto #3]
3) I heard it takes 28 days to break a habit. So I figured if I run 30 days in a row, I may break the habit of hating running.
4) build a base back for SDIT
5) I decided to do this the day before my bike was stolen. However it was convenient that I was getting into running and had 1 less distraction to pull me away. [sorry Cookie monster, wherever you are]

So the rules were easy. At least 2 miles a day. Slow, or go with a little speed if I felt up to it. But mainly slow miles. Short mileage. But I just had to change into running clothes and shoes and go.

morning boardwalk run in mission beach

So I tweeted my experience: [follow me! @rachelawills]
Day 1: I love an angry ocean. Breathing in the misty air calms my bleeding lungs during this mornings run.
Day 2: angry running experiment. Having my bike stolen gave a new spring to my step. Pounding pavement = #therapy.
Day 3: OB pier to see the backside of the surf and then up the hill. Guess which half was a wicked reminder of #IMSG?
Ohh I almost forgot to tweet day 4! 10 min left. Lunch time run is fun. Bonking is not. Must eat more during the day!
Day 5: lunch break run + gu = no bonk. Much better.
Day 6: running with friends is always better. Especially along sunset cliffs.
Oops! Day 7: running to catch the sunset. Barely got in the two miles. Good energy. http://t.co/fQfMniTp
And just now Day 8: another friend another mile. Fitting 3 into a lunch break is difficult.
[skipped april 10]
Day 9: makeup day run with Noko. 5 miles; to cabrillo and back. Lovely gossip run made the miles tick by.
Day 10: beach/bay run made even better with a friend and post run pizza. Yum
Day 11: forgoing my am run for something much more torturous. http://t.co/1DQ8S4Ge
Day 12: the ocean breeze never gets old. Especially when there is sun to back it up. Running past your wedding "venue" often doesn't suck
Day 13: another beach, another view, another great morning run. http://t.co/OoQtl8si
Day 13.5: freakshow. Ran tonight as a bonus run. Superman'ed over curb I didn't see. #notpretty. Still matched am average.
Day 14: not as stiff as imagined. Also sunset run on sunset cliffs isn't getting old, it's getting easy!
Day 15: back to the boardwalk for am run. Managed without incident. am vs pm run is still debatable.
Day 16: running with friends = superman or more mileage. Today was the latter. 4 mile am OB sesh with Noko.
Day 17: today is #420. My runner's high along sunset cliffs may have been enhanced a bit. #OBhippies
Day 18: Went for a run to clear my head. Sadly it's more full then when I started.
Day 19: hardest day yet to motivate. But post run party at my house with #PizzaPort surprise when I got back?! #Sogood http://t.co/0Shk36es
Day 20: 3 miles on the cliffs followed by #PizzaPort yummyness. Can't get enough #beerbuddies. http://t.co/KddLIHaO
Oh! Day 21: lunch time run goes faster when u know Santa, aka UPS man, is on the way with bike parts. Also friend runs are nice too.
Day 22: massage #3 this month. Will I make it before my hips fall off? Lunch run solely motivated by the presence of another.
Day 23: ocean swim without @JakeAMcLaughlin, pannikin, packing, 5 mile retarded fast run with Noko. Ouch. Good morning.
Day 24: wow. Awesome run on the boardwalk at Venice Beach in LA.
Day 25: barely made it last night. Fun 2 on the boardwalk. No curbs = no crashing.
Skipped today. Went climbing. Legs are now more sore than after any day of running. Must get in climbing shape before husband gets back!

evening boardwalk run in mission beach

Then it was over. I ran 26 of 30 days. I couldn't make it. Work and life and my body got in the way. Day 27 was the Spring Sprint race; followed by ITU preparations. Since then I've ran twice. [crazy] Hill repeats with Noko and the aquathlon.

just like 4 years ago!

my friend and newbie triathlete, ryan

Podium, or lack there of. 

Things I learned:
1) I still hate running.
2) I need to stretch more.
3) Trigger Point products are essential - I should commit to 30 days of rolling, with running sprinkled in.
4) My massage lady rocks. Let me know if you need a referral.
5) I'm a lucky girl. [more on this later]

Happy 4 Years

I moved to San Diego a little over 4 years ago. I signed up for my first triathlon and started this blog to "remember my journey" and hopefully learn a bit along the way. In some respects, the time has gone by so fast, it seems like just yesterday I was lying in my studio in OB getting the nervous butterflies trying to fall asleep the night before my first triathlon [with my timing chip already on my left leg.] In another sense, so much has happened since then, it feels like a lifetime ago. So we'll just agree, it feels like 4 years ago.

I got an entry from TCSD to the Spring Sprint on Wednesday before the race. Volunteering for the JCC swim program for the last 4 years has it's perks. :) And yeah, I like racing on a whim. No planning or nerves. Just straight racing. The Sprint Sprint (super sprint) was my first triathlon, on May 4, 2008. Two years later, I finished St. George on May 1, 2010. And now, 2 years post IM, I'm back at the spot where it all started.

Local races; no fluff, but being within biking distance of my house is awesome. "Late" wake up for triathlon standards at 5:45am and Kermit and I were off in the streets of OB with the still drunk or homeless [or both] with the aero helmet and transition bag. I'm pretty sure I was the "what doesn't belong with the others" in this picture.

I'm famous; okay not really, but working at a bike shop and being the face of the racing scene for the last 3 years = I know a lot of triathletes. Or, a lot of triathletes know me. I've been bike fitting for over two years and have met a lot of people through the JCC swim program I volunteer for. Anyway, this equates to a lot of chit-chatting and not a lot of setup or warmup. Oh well, it's just a local race and it's a time when I get to catch up with people I haven't seen in a while [probably since the last race.]

Swim; uneventful. Not many events can happen in a 400yd swim. Goal was to hit the edge of the water before the next wave of boys started after me. Success.

Bike; uneventful. What can happen in 9 miles? Apparently I didn't ride hard enough. By the time I felt good I was already heading off Fiesta Island back to transition.

Run; held on just long enough to not have my hip and quad totally screaming at me. Uneventful, but painful. Finished and I felt like I didn't push enough.

Sprints; are tough! It's a constant struggle to stay at threshold. Going over and you'll blow up. Going under and you'll feel like you could have went harder. Managing that line is difficult as I have an attention and focus issue no matter how much self talk I do. "oh look, a dolphin. Oh look, an idiot racer riding on the left. Hmm, what am I going to eat at brunch today?" and so on...

I won my AG by 6 min and was 2nd overall. My good friend Erin "man'd up" and raced elite and beat me by 40 seconds. My friend Ryan beat me in the swim, bike and run, but I beat him by 4 seconds in the race. Gotta love transitions...they are a part of the race!

I remember my only goal in my first triathlon was to run the entire 1.5 miles. At Ironman I wanted to finish with a smile on my face, and run the entire 26.2 miles. This race was much of the same. I was at the end of my running for a month goal and my legs were dead. Making it through the run was a serious goal.

So May has been a crazy month. I took some time off for Annie's bachelorette party and wedding. [which was gorgeous btw] And we were the age group race directors for the big ITU race that was in town. [two weeks of hell, and a 71 hour work week right before my vacation to MN.] Trying to get the final touches on the new road bike and San Diego International is in a month. Eeek! I thought I was going to train for this race for once.

Happy four years, San Diego! I'm enjoying the journey and I love where I live.

In Memoriam

Tuesday was a very emotion filled day that started off with anger, fear, and frustration and ended with a good friend, a beer and a smile.

The Cookie Monster was stolen.

I woke up. Changed into my bike kit and went down to the garage for my bike. He wasn't there.

You know when you lose or misplace something and you know you'll eventually find it in that stupid place you forgot to check but thought you did? Yeah, this wasn't one of those times.

I knew it was gone because I knew it was last there. I raced on Sunday and came home. Took it out of my car and walked it back to my garage. He wasn't there Tues [or Monday either according to my roommate]. Someone stole my bike. Anger ensues.

Had to go to work for the ride anyway. JT got down the rental bike and I tried to ride out the frustrations.

Police report and insurance claim bs and then I worked all day. Came home and ran. I ran hard. And angry. And not pretty. And then it was time for dinner and a beer.

Thank you to all my friends for the Facebook and Twitter posts and tweets. I can only hope it'll be recovered. It was very nice to see such a caring world at a time when I felt so violated.

So Mr. Cookie Monster. A proper eulogy:
6 July 2009 - 1 April 2012

You came to my world in 2009 along with a close family of brother and sister frames. I remember opening your box and setting eyes on you.

I rode you a lot that summer. The Great Western Loop and you got very aquatinted. I got stronger. You helped though a breakup as much as the ocean. And then I crashed you. Into the breakup boy. Your brother bike actually. And after separating my shoulder and suffering a concussion, all I cared about was that you were okay. All you needed was new bar tape and you were back in action on the trainer. [I'm sorry, I know you hate that harness and you'd rather be free on the roads...me too.]

I realize I put you aside after that first summer. I know you were sad when I signed up for that ironman, knowing you'd be sidelined and Kermit was getting all the mileage and glory. But your day would come. I finished that ironman and set both you and Kermit aside.

July 4, 2010: I got engaged on you! I was with the man of my dreams and he proposed on a ride out to the Cabrillo National Monument, one of my favorite places to ride.

I repaid you with yet another crash. And again separated my same shoulder weeks before my wedding. Thanks for that. And I'm sorry Chris stepped on your toes while coming to my rescue. [he ran over the front wheel after not packing it into the car]

In 2011, I started to test your speed. I upgraded your wheels. And I raced a lot. And Cookie Monster, you performed beautifully and enjoyed your time in the spotlight. You won the state championship. You helped me get enough points to cat up. I was loving my position aboard you. I actually enjoyed riding in the drops. I loved those moments where a burst of power brought you and I together.

2012 was your season, and I am saddened it was cut short. I can only be grateful I had a proper last ride...a race where you went out on top.

I hope you are in a happy place although I know you are either under a bum's ass or being parted out. And that truly makes me sad.

Thank you for everything you've given me. Here are your moments and my memories with you:

Whim Vacationing

Theming this month. I started this post on my way back from a great vacation that happened very last minute. I realize that my last post may have made people jealous or angry having done well with minimal training. However, I trained hard all winter. Got up on those dark cold mornings. And put in the time. My base had proved to be enough to carry me through for a month. Don't worry. It won't last forever.

Back to vacation. [don't be jealous! I work hard]

I had asked for last weekend off for a wedding. Luckily it was granted. We booked the hotel on Thursday. Frank and Karen headed out Friday morning and Chris and I were leaving after I got done with work around 7:00pm Friday night.

I quickly looked at the schedule for next week and noticed I had Monday and Tuesday off. What? Four day weekend unplanned?!

What to do. Complain about it or embrace the freedom. Came home and asked Chris if he wanted to head up to Mammoth after the wedding festivities on Sunday and ski/board Mon/Tues and head back Tuesday night. A big storm was rolling in and weather looked amazing with a ton of snow forecasted.

Sweet Chris was in. Call cousin Dana and they were glad to have us. Lodging "booked."

Epic vacation commenced. Packed up all the ski crap on top of bikes and wedding stuff and headed for Santa Barbara.

Got in late and took the bikes in after their bath [it rained a bit on the way up]. Saturday morning woke up and headed out for some tasty eats at Beachbreak Cafe. Then it was off for some pre-wedding wine tasting in downtown Santa Barbara. Yum. I have to admit I'd never been before. And it was a glorious idea. So many random adventures. Meeting Santa Clause on the street had to be the highlight. Frank spotted him across the street. In a wheelchair. He made us cross and of course made some off hand comment. The lady walking along said well he IS Santa. So we asked for our picture. And why he was wearing a cast with a bag on his foot. Apparently Rudolf stepped on his foot and broke it. Seriously we met Santa in Santa Barbara.

Off to the wedding at the beautiful very old and nicely refurbished court house. It's a very open aired hallways old Spanish feeling building with huge ceilings, ornate wall murals and amazing details.

Quick ceremony, yet personal and then we were off to dinner (amazing!) and drinks. Chris and I left the party and headed back to the hotel so we had a chance of waking up for the Sunday morning ride. Which was windy!! A slow 40 miles, shower, breakfast with the hungover wedding guests who I'm sure thought we were crazy and then we were off to Mammoth!

Got into town around 8:00 and Dana made us dinner. Woke up to a beautiful sunny day. With absolutely no wind. Such a great day on the mountain. Monday night a couple friends Ryan and Av came drove up and joined us for our Tuesday adventures.

Mid-week boarding is awesome. Monday was $5 Mai tais. Tuesday was $5 margaritas. And yeah the [lack of] lift lines aint bad either.

The last run of the day was ridiculous. Too much sun and no wind turns the snow to slush puppies. Super slow and catchy. Made it down and had some beers in the hot tub. For our 2nd time. Ate dinner and it was 8:30 before we knew it. 2:30am arrival time was not awesome. Especially with 2 swim lessons Wednesday morning.

Ryan and Av continued their adventure north with a stop at Bachelor in Oregon and then all the way to Canada for their Revelstoke trip. Backcountry for a week. Soo jealous.

Now I'm back and still trying to recover from an extended weekend lacking sleep. Today is day 6 in a row of working. Need to peel myself out of bed and do something. Bike racing this weekend on a local course I've never done. Should be interesting.

Thanks to Chris for all the driving and Dana and Adam [newly engaged!] for the lodging and lift tickets!!

Whim Racing

I seem to be mastering the art of racing on a whim. The whole train train train prep work and build up lead up to just ONE race doesn't work for me anymore. As a swimmer I've done that my entire life. 4 months of work here, 9 months there, with little rest and a focus on the end of the season "big meet" and taper time. Countless races in between but we were always smashed. All for the hope that one day [or four] would turn out to be our best.

This winter I trained for Panama. I won't call it hard training. But I made a effort towards a goal and a race and had a plan. Plan gets thrown out when heat hills and wind destroy me.

A week after the race I got back on my [road] bike. I rode hard and I rode a bunch. The following week I raced a criterium. My first of the season and ponied up and rode with the big girls of cat 1-3. Stayed in the mix, won a prime, brought back some breaks. Avoided a major crash where girl was upside down flying through air right next to me. Feet above my head. I held my line and kept moving. Yikes that was close. Ended up first for the cat 3s and 7th OA. Cool. I remember how to race cookie monster.

After the race I had the worst ass cramps I've ever experienced. Actually they were the worst muscle cramps, period. I mean serious cessation of every muscle in both ass cheeks. Couldn't bend over. Couldn't even touch my knees. I stayed up in Ontario to watch our men race a couple races and tried to massage it out. Yes I was that girl digging my hand into my butt cheeks. Ouch.

Rode GWL that week for my first ride back on Kermit with Jake and took it easy as to not disturb and have a relapse. Rode fiesta with Noko on that Friday hoping for the same. Got a much needed 90min massage to get all that Panama crap out of my legs and calves.

Decided to sign up for the Desert International Tri. Didn't run, not even once, in between Panama on Feb 12 and race day on March 4. Whim racing?! I got this.

Swim: 1st AG 1st Amateur 17:07
First off I started this race on a bad foot. 2 min before I realized I didn't take my obligatory vanilla GU 15 min before like I ALWAYS do! F'it. Doesn't matter. Race. Okay go. Ran directly in water as instructed to do since it is a SWIM not a run. See a girl run down the beach at cut in the water like 30 yards down. So now I'm swimming pissed off. Sprint to catch her and immediately pass her and there may have been some contact. Now I'm just swimming with anger. See another girl cut the course. The 1st buoy is FAR away. And directly into the sun. Oh well. Turn at buoy and head back in. Passing peeps as usual as I was in the 4th wave. Ps water was cold.

Bike 1:01:28 1st AG, 2nd Amateur 4OA
Not a bad day. Got on the bike. Felt good. Sat in. Drank some water and wanted to eat [since I hadn't yet] but held back till 20 min in. Was alone on the bike until, well, I wasn't. It was a very packed course. Major packs. I'd go only to be passed by a group. I'd drop back. Try and get into a legal position. Only to catch back up to group. I finally resorted that this is going to be it and I should just stop fighting. Riding angry after an angry swim isn't any fun! The course is a 2 loop square course with 4 corners. At one point people were 3 wide going into a corner. Uh, are we racing a crit?! No, and omg I do not trust triathlete handling skills. I blazed to the front and took the corner like I wanted to. Alone. Towards the end, one girl went off the front. The other girl who was actually working like me said "looks like someone finally decided to stick her nose in the wind!" as we both laughed it off and hammered back into T2.

Not sure if I took a conservative approach or if I rode to hard. Legs didn't really know what was going on. Okay, we'll see how this run thing goes. Whim racing!

Run: 45:04 6th AG 40th OA
Got on the dirt path, took a swig of water and some salt tabs and had no idea what pace my legs were holding. Looked at garmin. 7:30, okay I can do this. [as I'm laughing at myself because I have no idea if I'm going to blow up or not]. Hear the race director telling me the lead racer is just behind me. And it's a girl. "Heather Jackson?" I ask and of course she comes storming by me. Like I'm on a Sunday jog. Except I don't jog on Sundays. It was ridiculous. I look down and I'm going 7:15. Okay that's not okay. She was a good motivator, but not that good. I still have over 4 miles left.

Keith then passed and I yelled at him that a girl was kicking his ass. Tool more salt. Ran more. Finished first loop. Felt okay. Kept on truckin. Finished. Run was like 5.8 miles or something.

2nd AG. 2:06.50 felt solid.

Last year was a lot of the same. This year I'm not sure where I want to go with my racing. I like being able to jump into a race with some sort if confidence. Which takes some sort of fitness. I'm not usually one to half ass something, but it's been going okay. I have some ideas but I just need to sign up and get the plan. Or not.

San Diego Intl is already paid for so end of June is the next official non whim race, although I've never properly trained for that race in all my years of racing it, so no guarantees there. And who knows when the hubby gets back. And then, all bets are off. Looking forward to a couple of local crits coming up, but since I never know my schedule until a week ahead of time or less, those are very whim-esk.

Writing this on a very long car ride from Santa Barbara to Mammoth. Whim Vacation continues!!

Pictures: camping before the race. [worked till 5:30 sat night, drove out with Steve, set up camp, woke up to race at event site!]
Podium
Post Race Festivities [wrona invited us to his hotel for pool time recovery. Amazing time with fun peeps]
Sunrise before the race in the desert
Crit racing! Working hard on the front.

Panama

I had an amazing time in Panama and I'm so thankful for the people who made it happen. Thanks to husband deployed unit who is "seeing the world" with the Navy, so I can see the world with triathlon. Mucho gracious to my "Panamanian" friend Brendan who told me about the race last year and who hosted me for a week! I had a great trip thanks to him. And thanks again to my coach Brian [triathlon lifestyle coaching] and ART guru Matt [CRAC San Diego] for getting me to the start line. The rest was up to me and getting to that finish line proved to be harder than I thought.

Congrats to [pro triathlete] Haley for a great race in almost all borrowed gear! Her bike made the trip, but her bag ended up lost [and found in San Jose, after the trip of course.] Brian also coaches her, and we hadn't met till Panama!

After the race I took a tour with Brendan's guide friend and 6 very unique tourists. We took the Panama Canal Train from the Pacific [southern, weird I know] side to the northern, Atlantic side. The train was gorgeous [albeit Freezing with AC blasting] and it weaved through the canal, lakes and jungle. We arrived and our tour guide Kevin picked us up in the van and we headed out into what was the increasingly common crazy Panamanian drivers and traffic.

pretty painting on the inside of the train

Arrived at our breakfast location.

And headed out for a snorkeling adventure. Sadness is the broken underwater camera. Greatness is the warm Atlantic waters and private beach and some beautiful fish and coral.

 Pictures from Portobelo.

2 cannons were stolen the week before we came. a) who steals a rusty old cannon? b) for what use? c) how did they manage to lift it out of this area?

Returned for another delicious meal and we were off to the old Spanish fort town Portobelo for our history lesson and black Jesus viewing. Growing up in Northern Minnesota, I've only ever thought of Jesus as the pale white guy on the cross. That is until my high school bf's dad designed and crafted the amazing "Living Christ" crucifix out of his medium of choice, Bronze. [see below] Back to Panama, every October 21st, people journey to this town. They take black Jesus out of his case, dress him in this amazing gown that one of the towns ladies works on the entire year [we saw her sewing when we were there; in Feb.] and crawl on their hands and knees and return black Jesus to his tomb in the church.

the living Christ, St. Joseph's Church, Grand Rapids, MN

El Cristo Negro

Saw some kids playing in the streets. Apparently practicing for Carnival. Really they were just whipping each other.

Saw a monkey on a chain too. At the mayer's house. I don't think it liked me taking the video. [as I run away from a chained monkey, lol]

After the tour we headed back down to the city. My fellow tourists were a very eclectic mix of people and made the trip much more enjoyable.  The following day Brendan took me to the old part of Panama which I'll save for another post.

Panama 70.3

What an amazing week! I'm a very lucky girl to have had the chance to put Panama 70.3 on my race calendar this year.

When the race was announced, Brendan posted to FB and I knew I wanted this race to be my endurance tri comeback. I raced a bit last year but with no real focus or structured training plan. With Kyle deployed, it was the logical decision to train all winter to keep my mind and body occupied. So here I am on my last day in Panama, reflecting back.

First off thanks to my coach, Brian, with Triathlon Lifestyle Coaching. He yet again got me through injury free on a new plan, with much less volume than IMSG [obviously.] Also thanks to Matt at Crac San Diego for his amazing ART [active release techniques] work on my body and keeping me moving.

Thanks to my many training partners, but especially Noko and Erin, for giving me the motivation to get out of bed each day through the cold, dark winter to help me prepare for this hot, humid summer race. :)

And thanks to Kyle for supporting me, even from afar!

So. Race morning. Set up transition and walk to the swim start which was a bit up the amador. Walked onto the pier and waited. Luckily there was a dj playing some awesome girly pump up songs. Race was delayed 23 minutes. No swim warmup as we were only allowed to jump in the water as the wave in front of us left. We had to hold on to the rope line that the buoys were attached to so we didn't get moved past the start line from the current.

The Current. Seriously, I've swam in rivers with less current. In Panama, on the Pacific side, there are huge tidal swings. From 9 to 18 ft. The Atlantic side has 1-3 ft of change.

Bang. And we were off. I could not believe how ridiculous it was. Soooo fast. If anyone tells you they PR'd their swim in Panama, remember to put a very large asterisk by the time. Really, what was the point of having a swim? It was basically a duathlon where you had the option to start out wet.

The canal was great. Crazy enough, I didn't smell gas or diesel fuel or crap at any point during the swim. I saw a really large orange container ship heading into the canal. I passed a bunch of women and then men from the waves prior. And I floated my way towards the stairs. They had a guy with a fire hose and I ran through that quickly to wash off the salt.

Swim: 20:53 1st AG, 1st Amateur

Then began the ridiculous run through transition. It was over 1/3 mile long. It was on a sidewalk and bikes were racked the length of the transition. Put it this way, it was long enough that the race directors made a special exception for the pros, who got to ride their bikes through transition!! So, yes, T1 and T2 were slow, but that's because I had additional ground to cover by foot.

Bike in 3 words. Hilly. Hot. Windy.

Oh and unique and beautiful, but those words get lost in the pain. The course profile is incorrect. It was listed as feet and I'm pretty sure it should have been meters. After exiting the craziness of the boardwalk area, we were on the highway and turning onto the on ramp of the Bridge of the Americas. Wow. What an experience. And crazy cross winds almost ruined it. After the 200ft climb to the top, the descent was met with an insane cross wind that was present all stinking day. Went around and then bam. Hills. Funny sign with car on a 70 degree incline. Really? I literally laughed out loud and thanked the sign for advising me on what was to come.

Up and down. Up. Wind. Down. Cross wind. Where the hell are the "flat" parts of this course?! And where's the tail wind?!

I felt okay on the bike until the turn around at the end of the Pan-American Hwy. Aid stations had cold water which was great; I think I took 3 showers on the bike. I let the girl I was going back and fourth with get away and then I went into a mental struggle about the physical struggle I was encountering. I took a motivator but it didn't help. I'd been taking in salt consistently. Drinking water and calories. Ate 3 Gu's and 1pk Chomps. Couldn't keep my power or cadence up.

Back over the bridge and at this point I was just happy to be upright and pedaling. Had to pass the start and going into the downtown area via Cinta Costera. Windy and hot and I really just wanted to be off my bike which is very unlike me. Made it back [had a little potty "stop" that wasn't a stop because I was riding] and into transition.

Bike: way too long. 3:01

Run. FML. Seriously? I'm now thinking it's going to take me YEARS to get this run thing figured out. I didn't push the bike that hard. Time wasn't where I wanted it to be. And then I start running. Mile 1 and 2 are okay. Right around 8:15 pace. And my legs are starting to struggle. Inner quads are rejecting each push. Feet won't turnover. Heels won't raise up. And I'm shuffling. Argh! I was so incredibly frustrated and suffering for the rest of the run. I started walking aid stations. Drinking coke. Getting ice chunks for the sports bra. water. Salt tabs. Anything please just start working! I started making deals with myself. I've never experienced anything quite like this. And sadly I've never had to walk in a triathlon before. It broke my heart having to stop running. My HR was too high. I was too hot. And I needed calories. So I walked 11 of the 15 aid stations. My legs were on the verge of cramps but I managed to ration the salt tabs correctly and had just enough to keep the cramps away.

I watched as 2 girls in my ag passed me and I tried hard to hang on. The 2nd girl was running just above my pace. I really had no idea where I was at place-wise as I had been pretty delusional. I just told myself that this was 5th and you are not letting her go. This is the podium and you must hang on.

So that was the game plan. I shuffled behind her heels from mile 10 - 11.5. At that point we hit an aid station. At the end a man was holding a hose. She stops. And it was decision time. I charge past and go balls out and don't look back till the next corner.

Everything hurts. Legs are charging, heart is pumping and the grimace on my face must have been an awesome [ugly] site. We are weaving around the paths and parking lot and I hit the entrance of the convention area. I look back and I don't see her. Still I put my shoulders back and run. I cross the line. Look up. And collapse into the finish line catchers.

Off to the med tent.

Run: A horrific 2:06, which funny enough, is a half ironman run PR. Told you I wasn't a runner.

5:36. Slowest 70.3, even with a swim
and run PR? Yeah, it was that hard.

Race recap to follow. More pictures. And the rest of my Panamanian experience.

Inspiration

My husband was just named his divisional sailor of the quarter. Pretty awesomesauce. He has a write up posted in the hallway of his workspace. Who does he list as his inspiration? Me. What?

I'm so happy for him. He really makes the best of every situation. Kyle hasn't had the easiest life. But he has has the best attitude and has taught me a lot and has given me even more to be thankful for.

My inspiration throughout my training has obviously been him. He's stuck on a big grey boat in the middle of the Persian Gulf. For 8 months. Every time I thought about complaining about my run sessions in freezing MN, or my early almost freezing bike rides on Fiesta Island, I'd think of him. Stuck on a boat and unable to get out and do the things he loves. So I ran and rode for him. Although my once weekly noon masters was enjoyed for me. :)

So here I am, in Panama, "embracing" the heat that I came fully knowing, yet fully unprepared for. I suppose setting up a treadmill and trainer in the sauna at the Y is probably beyond frowned upon. So I am looking for inspiration. And I found it back where I started.

In Kyle. Who is embracing the spin bike lately in their non-air conditioned gym in the middle of the ocean, middle-eastern location. Imagine the sweatiness. Okay don't. Yuck.

The race is a day away. I couldn't be more excited. My Panamanian host, Brendan has been awesome. We've also taken our new friend Haley around with us. She is coached by Brian too, but she's actually a pro. :)

Fun times at the Panama Canal and an interesting taxi ride home. Ready to toe the line at 7:06am tomorrow morning!

Becoming a "runner"

I've been thinking a bunch lately. [thats what happens when you're on taper.] What does the word "runner" mean to me? What do I have to accomplish in my running adventures to be a self proclaimed runner? How does my body feel before, during, and after a run? What is my daily attitude towards the sport?

I think all of those questions help me personally define the notion of really "being" a runner. I know from an outsiders perspective, I would be considered a runner. Heck, [yes, "heck"] I ran 12 miles in 18 degree weather. I race triathlons [which happen to have a running leg]. I "ran" an entire marathon. I own a Garmin. But none of those things have made me truly believe I am a runner.

I AM a swimmer. I AM a cyclist. I AM a wife. {i am an ironman} But am I really a runner? Of course I know these sports are not who I am; they are a very big part of my life and help define who I am but they are not definite.

[wifeage = sporting? I suppose; there is usually offense and defense. There are rules. There is a love of sport. There is practice. There is perfection, technique, and a lifetime of being teammate.] I digress.

So why do I have to BE a runner?

Because to me, being a runner is something I never have been. It has always been a road block to me fully becoming a triathlete. And unfortunately, running is more than 1/3 of the triathlon.

I have to stop dreading the run. I want to embrace it. I want to love it. I want to be fast.

***

So Carlsbad half marathon was on the race schedule as a warmup and test before Panama. I had registered for this race 2 years ago for preparation before St. George, but had surgery less than a month before which set me back in the training. I had heard good things about this course and was actually pretty amped to race it.

I have only toed the line to 1 other running race which was also a half marathon. Most people sign up for 5ks. I'd rather do a 70.3 triathlon than a half marathon. "Just" running races have NEVER appealed to me. Yes I realize there is a half marathon after the biking and swimming. But it's different. Your legs are ready and warm.

Listening to the national anthem waiting patiently for wave 2 to start. Running buddy Erin has graciously offered to run the entire race with me. [She is WAY faster than me. She is a runner. She ran a BQ. And was also a collegiate swimmer. Which makes her rare, and an amazing athlete.] Ate 1 orange shot block. And just like that, we were off.

I've never ran in such a crowd! We were dodging people the first 3 miles! People complain about IM swim starts, but this was madness. Remember my IM swim? It was perfect. This was chaos. It helped those miles pass by quickly.

Then time started to slow down. I was just trying to get one foot in front of the other and use as little energy as possible, and keep up the pace. I felt like I was in this crazy person zone the entire race. Saw people we knew but I was very delusional; my responses were mostly grunts of "Hi!"

Ate 2 vanilla gu's the entire race and had water at every aid station. The rollers were nice in the sense that it broke up the race, but man, that is not really a flat course. I look down at the garmin. 9.7 miles. F*ck. I am dying. Legs are already feeling too heavy. Legs are on the verge of cramping all the way through. Quads, hamstrings, hips. Omg, damage control. My mind is trying desperately to do math. Can't I just walk the rest and still get a PR? Internal battles ensue.

I think my eyes were only half open for the rest of the race. 2 miles left I ask Erin to go right in front of me. She's pushing the pace hard. She drops me, but I keep pushing. Downhill comes and my legs are fighting me. Fighting my will. Catch back on. 1 mile. Stride begins to lengthen, even at the request of my hips to not let that happen. Visual on the last turn. 13.1 miles and I "lapped" the Garmin to get my official split (1:43). Finish with the mini-est "kick" ever. It was pathetic. 13.22 miles according to the Garmin. 1:44.

I ran my PR. By 15 minutes. I feel like I'm 9 yrs old where every swim meet is a PR because you've just learned something new. I learned how to be a runner. I broke that 8:00 min/mile mark. for 13.1 miles. YAHOOOOOO!

***

So here I sit. Less than 2 weeks away from my A race. All those early frozen mornings preparing for a 95 degree race day. I have to stop dreading the run. I want to embrace it. I want to love it. I want to be fast. So, cheers to the power of positive thinking:

I AM a runner. {You've got to say it to really believe it, right?}

dreams

I've always been a dreamer. Well, I think most people are. I just have an odd tendency to remember them. My old roommates and now my husband must have gotten sick of listening to me babble each morning. I find if I talk about it right when I wake up, I remember it with more clarity, however I don't ever do anything with them; I don't keep a dream journal. Now, with husband gone and old roommates in different time zones or schedules, I haven't taken note of anything crazy. Until two weeks ago.

{My new favorite song and album}

So I had a dream. The most vivid dream I've ever had. The clearest dream I've ever had. And the most emotionally powerful dream I've ever had.

The northern lights were gorgeous. In my real non-dream life, I have seen the northern lights 2 times. Nothing could compare to what I saw in the dream. They were the most vibrant color of green I could ever imagine. And the "northern" lights were happening right here in San Diego. I was the first person to notice, and I happened to be in a very large field, almost like an old farmland. More and more people were gathering to watch this amazing feat of the sky. The green colors were the most vibrant colors I have ever seen, in a dream or real life. The flowing and ever moving green streaks were getting brighter. A lightening and electric storm was coming through. No rain, just beautiful bolts of brightness, lighting the green even more. This beauty went on for a while, and slowly died off. Eventually their were airplanes. Big jets. They apparently had been circling and couldn't be in the area, much less land because of the lightening. All of a sudden, their lights are flashing and going out. They are making horrible noises. They were clearly affected by the storm. None of them have landing gear out. And all of a sudden, one by one, they come crashing down on their bellies at a very high speed. People are scattering like mad. I started running the wrong way. I looked up. And a plane was coming straight for me. It hit me. And nothing hurt. All of a sudden everything went white. Like super clear and beautiful white. And I woke up.

I woke up with a renewed sense of happiness. I was content. And then I remembered what just happened. And I was super freaked out. I have never died in my dreams.

So I did some research. Northern lights in dreams:

To see the northern lights in your dream represent renewed energy, vitality, awe, insight and youth.  A situation or relationship will be made clear to you or a positive spiritual experience will fill you with warmth and love. You will gain some amazing new wisdom and knowledge. Alternatively, the dream indicates that you know what you need to do, but may be too lazy or too afraid to jump into action. 


Couldn't be more true. And death:


To dream that you die in your dream symbolizes inner changes, transformation, self-discovery and positive development that is happening within you or your life. You are undergoing a transitional phase and are becoming more enlightened or spiritual. Although such a dream may bring about feelings of fear and anxiety, it is no cause for alarm as it is often considered a positive symbol.  Dreams of experiencing your own death usually means that big changes are ahead for you. You are moving on to new beginnings and leaving the past behind. These changes does not necessarily imply a negative turn of events. Metaphorically, dying can be seen as an end or a termination to your old ways and habits. So, dying does not always mean a physical death, but an ending of something.


Wow. 


Having a husband deployed is only something that you can totally understand and grasp if it is something that you have gone through personally. No one can prepare you for this. I'm not trying to say it's so horrible and bad and everyone please feel sorry for me. No, that's not it at all. I'm actually making the most of this "alone" time [although I rarely feel "alone"]. I have been making some personal internal changes that I'm starting to feel really good about. More on that down the road. We are 1/3 of the way through this deployment [with the current "schedules", however who really knows?] but I still feel our love growing.


OKAY! Enough with the sappiness. Training blog. Back to dreaming. I have some dream achievements for this Panama experience. Dreams aren't supposed to be set low, because when reaching a dream, the reward is that much greater. So there are goals and dreams. And I suppose some expectations. All of which will be in my back pocket on race day. 


Carlsbad race report and training update soon to come. Leaving with this shot of beautiful San Diego. On the top of Mt. Soledad today with Noko and Ian. Soooo clear. So warm. SO amazing. Thank you Kyle for doing what you do so I can do this.