WEEK SEVENTEEN (and then some) Re-Cap!!!

I am writing the title in caps because I seriously cannot believe TEN WEEKS have passed -nearly THREE MONTHS- since I've had 30 minutes to update my blog. I've learned so much in these 10 weeks and have grown immensely as an athlete.

One of my last entries, from Week 4, shared the results of my first run test. I thought I had it going on, holding an 8:22 pace for 20 minutes. That was something else for me and a level of fitness I never dreamed of achieving. I remember telling Liz shortly after that test that I was psyched that my run speed was improving. The conversation went something like this:

"Hey. I am now able to hold an 8:50ish pace pretty consistently now for 3 miles or so on my long runs. Well, close to 3 miles. Maybe not a full 3 miles, but close. I've never been able to do that before, ever. That's good..... Right? That's good for me?"

"Yeah." [No other comments or expression from Liz as she still maintains her gaze on the computer screen while she analyzes our bike data from that night]

"That's good, right???? Or, not. ??"

"No, that's pretty good, but you should be faster. Someone your size should be a lot faster. But, that's good! Keep going."

Hmmmm. Not the reaction I was expecting. The following week, she elaborated on her comments about my speed and mostly what she gets across is that, if I want, I could be a LOT faster. How much faster? All she does is share HER paces with me, "since we're the same size." I go home that night with thoughts racing through my head that my coach just basically told me that it's only up to me to do it. I've been gifted with a small frame, one that should be fast, and that the right training will pay off. Her paces are not something I could imagine in a million years. Her paces are that of a Pro Triathlete who raced Kona twice and placed at the top of her age group in the most grueling race in the world.

Somewhere along the last day of Week 12, Sunday April 25, 2010 to be exact, and 8 weeks after this conversation, we had our second run test. It was my first race of the season actually, the Ravenswood 5K. We were given the option to do the test on a treadmill, or pick a local 5K. My options were the Ravenswood 5K or the Run To Wrigley. I decided the week before the test that I would race the Ravenswood 5K. At first I thought I had nothing to lose. No 5K in the last DECADE that I could even try to compare my results to- it would be a success any way you looked at it because certainly I was faster than some random 5K I ran in college for fun. It would be in my own neighborhood and I'd gain momentum from the crowd as opposed to on a treadmill. As the days ticked down to Sunday, rain was in the forecast and I was starting to get nervous about not only racing in the rain and how it would affect my test, but also that Liz would be looking at my time again. It was the highest compliment she could've paid me to compare my potential to her world status and success as a professional triathlete. It was sometime the day before the race that I randomly picked an 8:00/mile pace that I would like to hit. That would put me at a finishing time "somewhere in the 26-minute range. Really, in my wildest dreams, I confided in my brother, Ryan, that I was actually shooting privately to break the 25-minute time. That would be Heaven on Earth for me.

It poured that night like you'd never believe but I posted on Facebook, "Rain Rain Go Away, Come Back When It's Not Race Day. But, if you stay, I will be running so fast it won't even matter!!!!! Bring it on." And, I meant it. Liz coaches me everyday to accept racing is what you make it. If it rains, it's raining for everyone else as well. Get out there and GET IT DONE. I made a playlist for my iPOD that was exactly 25 minutes. If I ran any slower, I'd be finishing the race of a lifetime for me with no music left. I specifically had Madonna and Justine Timberlake's "4-Minutes" song synced with 4 minutes left in the race. I was serious now.

Mom picked me up early and we headed over. The rain subsided and even though it could pour again any second, it hadn't yet. For the first time ever before a race, I followed a plan from my coach to warm up 10 minutes EZ, then another 10 minutes of spinting/EZ. Another first was positioning myself in the 8 min/mile pace group. This was really happening. That 8:22 test pace 8 weeks ago seemed like a lifetime ago. The national anthem was sung and the horn went off. I looked down at my Garmin 1/2 mile in and it said a 7 minute pace. This can't be possible. I'm really doing this! But I needed to find a balance quick and hold it. I raced my heart out and couldn't believe each turn I made I was experiencing a moment like never before. I was literally at the top of my game. I looked at my Garmin maybe one other time only because I was so focused and it was in the 7:30 range. This is insane! After my last turn onto Wilson, I could see the finish line 1/2 mile out and my song was just now starting. I was in. I crossed the finish line in 22:55. The pace ended up being 7:22. I placed 12/421 in my age group. The 50th female overall.

That race was the beginning for me. Up until now, my goal was to finish Ironman, ideally with a smile on my face and saying something like "this was the best experience of my life." Now, my mind is full of what the times look like for my age group for each race I compete in. What does the top 50 look like? What does the top 25 look like? What does the top 10 look like? Never in a million years did I think I'd be legitimately analyzing my age group.

This race was also the first of 4 races in 6 weeks for me, during a time of seriously builds and an intensity for the bike, run and swim that I've never experienced before for steady daily training. My next race was the following weekend at the Palos Hills Half Marathon. Liz had congratulated me on my performance with more excitement than my last test and actually seemed very satisfied with my efforts. I didn't mention, I paced one of the WellFit Elite team athletes during that race. The Half Marathon would be a whole new experience as well. The last one I raced one year ago was a HUGE 23-minute PR for me at 1:58.02. I was doing track workouts for the first time ever as part of the Steelhead Half Ironman training and couldn't believe I could break the 2-hour mark.

I asked Liz about the 3.5 hour training ride scheduled for the day before the half mary. Surely, she wouldn't be happy with me for suggesting I could still do this ride and then race the next morning in a half marathon. Her response?

"Of course you can still do the ride. You HAVE to do the ride."

End of discussion.

Next question:

"What kind of pace should I consider since we JUST did our run test 48 hours ago and my new paces will be, well, sort-of too fast for me right now to follow for a HALF MARATHON?"

"You should follow the new paces I just emailed you."

"It's an 8-8:15 pace though."

"Yep!"

hmmmm. Alrighty then. 3 1/2 hours of hills on the bike on saturday at the end of our first big build week and then race a half mary at my new insanely fast pace for me on sunday. And, so I did. I hurt like hell during that race, which was all rolling hills, but I heard her words during the race. If you're going to sign up for a race, then race it. There's no la-la-ing out there during a race. What's the point."

1:51.12, an 8:30 pace for a half marathon. 16th in my age group. I have arrived.

The following week, Week 14, was a milestone as well. I met the hills of Madison for first time as I rode one loop plus an additional 5 miles of the actual Ironman bike course in the sleet and rain with a high of 38 degrees. I had no idea what to expect but I was ready for the meeting. I drove up to Verona in rush hour later after work to share a hotel room with Akemi. It was the first time on the course, but it wouldn't be the last. I did the first loop in sleet and rain in 2:45, a goal that Liz had set for me. I would go back the following weekend to challenge myself again on these hills and rode the course solo in 2:38. In one week, I improved by 7 minutes. Granted, I was wearing 5 less pounds of clothing, but a lesson applied was maximizing momentum on the downhills to carry up on the climbs. I really am doing this and loving it.

Week 16 brought another milestone. Galena. A triathlon for the brave. This race was just on Saturday, 5 days ago. It would be cold and the climbs would be aggressive. I decided to get in the lake (Lake Michigan, that is) on Wednesday, May 20, a record for most triathletes to get in the water. If I had to guess, MAYBE 10 other athletes in the entire city of Chicago hit the lake this early. I was going to be prepared, though, because this is how I've been trained. My focus is to the point that nothing really phases me anymore. I was racing in 3 days and I needed to get in the water. Didn't matter that no one else was going. Didn't matter that I was stuck at work until 6:00 at night. Didn't matter that the air temperature was 60 degrees and the water temperature was low 50s at best. What did matter was that I am a different athlete than before, and I take things pretty seriously now.

When I got to Galena finally, way too late on friday after forgetting my front wheel in the garage due to rain, I was a mess. It was a two-transition race, something I've never experienced before. Also, I've never competed in a race that I didn't know the course. There was no time to drive it and barely time to understand what does in the T1 bag and what goes in the T2 bag. When should I rack my bike? It's a 45 minute drive, it's getting dark, and these country roads suck. What time should I get up if I need to do all of this in the morning? Where the hell is T2 then? I was lost and was suddenly following the lead of others rather than myself. In the end, the transition situation worked itself out thanks to Tim Kolar, smooth operator of racing. We drove to T2 first at 7am to drop off the running gear then drove to the swim start for the race and to rack our bikes at T1. As we cruised the Galena hills to the race start, and I mean REAL HILLS with guardrails even, I was finally introduced to the course. It was going to be my toughest race to date judging by the steep and long climbs. Some of them went on for 1/3 of a mile and dropped off a ridge that I almost wouldn't care to drive my car down.

The temp was good, maybe 60-65 and the rain subsided overnight. We arrived with enough time for me to rack my bike, set up transition (T1), check out the swim course visually sort-of, and then enough time to take my bike out of transition to trial a quick run of the steep hill out of T1 that almost required a granny gear. When I realized I could get up the hill that fellow non-elite teammates feared, I was feeling good. After getting back to T1, timing the port-o-potty visits, and placing flip flops for gravel, I was ready to go. Wetsuit on, I found Erika and we headed to the swim start. The race was delayed by 20 minutes due to fog but that gave us time to put our feet in the chilly water. We ran into Chris Waterstraat, Liz's husband. He was very calming and asked us when we were planning on getting in the water. We avoided this at all cost for fear that it would be too cold and ironincally throw us off. This was my final moment as a novice athlete. Just putting my feet it. Chris convinced us to go it and get water inside our wetsuits to at least get acclimated. And, so we did. Once in, it only made sense to swim it out a bit. Didn't matter if it was 5 strokes or 50, we were in, swimming, getting ready. Yes, it was cold, yes it was full of seaweed and algae, yes it was so murky you could feel the thickness of the river as we swam. However, there now were no surprises and finally, I was ready for this race.

The swim was great, I felt stronger than ever and sighted really well. It is an odd distance for a triathlon, falling somewhere between a sprint and an olympic distance. Plus insane hills. I had no idea what a good time for me should be but somehow I got "2 hours" in my head randomly. So, it was. Out of the water in 12:35 for about 700 yards, way too long in transition looking for flip flops (lesson learned), 17.4 miles or so on the hilliest course yet in just about 1:05.00 including 5-7 minutes for a dropped chain, and a 4.3 mile run with very challenging climbs. When I left T2, my watch said 1:19 and change. I heard Christine being announced as the first female across the finish and I knew that 40 minutes would typically be enough time for me to hammer out 4.3 miles if it was flat. I wanted that 40 minutes more than life itself at that point. 200 yards into the run, you descend a large hill, turn a corner and see a climb that is at least 1.2 miles long ahead of you. You see people everywhere just stopped, doubled over, wondering what they got themselves into. I could not make this up if I tried. My legs were heavy but I didn't stop. There was a fellow age grouper, #554, that I was playing cat and mouse with the entire bike and there she was again on the run. I'd pass her, she'd pass me, I'd pass her, she'd pass me. At mile 2.5, it finally sort of leveled off for what looked like 200 yards. When I was dying from that insane climb, I made a break for it and didn't look back. The last mile was painful- a big switchback downhill that you know you still have to climb on the return that also revealed a sister hill up (and down) for the final 1/2 mile. Once up the last hill, I was home free, passing the mile 4 marker and sprinted my ass off to the finish. Liz was 100 yards from the finish cheering.

2:00.30.

I did it, even with the hills, even with the chain, even with not knowing the course, I did it. Even though it isn't really fair to say, if I hadn't dropped my chain and gained those 5-7 minutes, I would've easily placed in the top 15 of my age group for an incredibly challenging course. Even at 2:00, I was only 17 minutes off of Heather, a fellow athlete friend of mine and roommate for the weekend but elite team member, who placed 3rd in our age group. I placed 27.

So many people make so many comments to me about Ironman and the training it requires.

"I don't know how you can do that."
"Your body isn't meant to tolerate that kind of training."
"How do you do it? Aren't you exhausted?"
"You deserve a break."

Training for Ironman is a gift. It is a gift of mental tenacity, physcial strength, finances, endurance and perseverance. You have to be ready for Ironman. It is not a race of pride, but rather of satisfaction. I train 6 days/week for 10 months straight because I feel the truest sense of satisfaction. I test myself every day to be stronger and race smarter. I absorb new strategies that make me faster because I'm wiser and I trust my coach. Ironman is not something that you do for a dare. It's not a level of training that you can make excuses for if it's cold, or you're tired, or you're sick, or you're busy or you want to go out. Ironman is the biggest committment you'll make as an athlete and it's the most important one because you commit fully, to yourself.