ChesapeakeMan Ultra Distance Triathlon

Let me just start this race report by saying I'M A MOTHER F'ING IRONMAN! Okay, now that I've got that out of my system...

Friday

Rusty picked me up at about 1 PM in DC, and we started the drive to Cambridge, MD, which is an hour or two away. We hit heavy rain, construction, accidents--you name it, and it slowed us down. We didn't get to Cambridge until 4 PM, so we went straight to the hotel to check in and then straight to a restaurant to eat a big meal.



I had a ginormous calzone with veggies and no cheese at the pizza place next door to our hotel. Delish! I couldn't eat the whole thing, but I gave it my best effort! A lot of the research I did on pre-ironman eating suggested eating your biggest meal around 4 PM the day before the race so that it has adequate time to digest before the race. The strategy worked well for me--I didn't have any stomach issues that night or in the morning.

After dinner, we headed to the race hotel to check in and attend the course briefing. Check in was fast and efficient. The expo was super-small, though! They had just a couple vendors. All race-day necessities were there--CO2 cartridges, tubes, gels, chews, powders, body lubes, etc.--but there were a lot fewer extras like clothes, keychains, and coffee mugs like they have at Ironman-brand events.

I only bought one thing at the expo, and I only bought it because they kind of left us no other option.



A Rack Jacket is a cover for the top of your bike made out of ripstop nylon. It has drawstrings and velcro on the bottom side of it to keep it tight around the top of your bike. It protects your bars and seat from water damage, and it also keeps water out of your head tube and off of your cycle computer. It was forecast to rain all night, and we weren't allowed to use plastic bags to cover our bikes because they inevitably blow away and litter the area. Rack Jacket it was!

After checking in and purchasing my Rack Jacket, Rusty and I went to the course briefing. It was very helpful and very laid back, and we were able to ask a lot of questions. If you don't usually go to course briefings, I highly recommend going. I learned a lot of useful tips, and it really helped to settle my nerves!

We left the course briefing and went to the swim start, which was also the site of the swim-to-bike transition (T1).





Seriously, you can't take a scientist anywhere. He's already looking for bugs in the water.

We took my bike to the mandatory bike and helmet inspection and got the green light to get ahead and rack it. I put on the Rack Jacket, racked the bike, and then headed back to the hotel to pack my transition bags and get some sleep! I drank a bottle of water, repacked all of my bags, and it was lights out at 9 PM. That's not to say I went to sleep at 9 PM, but I certainly tried! A lot of my research also suggested getting a good night's sleep two nights before the race because you probably won't sleep well the night before. Very true. Definitely worked for me.

Saturday!

Alarm went off at 4 AM, and I was up and ready to go! I immediately scarfed a whole-wheat English muffin with peanut butter and a banana. Although a lot of websites suggested consuming only liquids on race day, I didn't think I could make it without a little solid food in the morning. I had had good luck with English muffins, PB, and bananas in the past, so I knew I'd be okay. Just a quick shower, and then we were out the door!

We stopped at the bike-to-run transition (T2) at the high school to drop off my T2 bag, and then we headed to swim start.



It was about o'dark thirty when we got to swim start. Specifically, it was 5:30 AM. I was glad to have gotten there so early, though. There was no line for body marking or for the port-a-pots, which was super-nice. The line for the port-a-pots was so long later that it ended up delaying the race by 2 minutes. No joke! I was glad to get in and out without waiting in line at all.

I took the Rack Jacket off my bike, made some last minute adjustments, pumped up the tires, and put my fuel bottles in the cages.



I coated myself in BodyGlide, wiggled into my wetsuit, dropped the BodyGlide into my T1 bag, and handed the bag off to a volunteer.



The bags were on racks in numerical order so that a volunteer could hand us our bag after we ran out of the swim exit. After they hand you your bag, you head to a changing tent where you kit up for the bike. You put your wetsuit and swim gear back into the bag, and then the volunteers deliver it to the finish for you to pick up with your bike. We had the option of laying stuff out next to our bike as well, but I opted to put everything in my bag.

In my T1 bag: small towel (a golf towel is the perfect size), bike shoes, bike socks, race belt, Garmin, sunglasses, helmet, bug spray, BodyGlide, and chapstick. I had my bike clothes on under my wetsuit, and I was pretty sure it would be hot enough to leave the arm warmers at home. All in all, I was happy with what I packed.

"Bug spray?", you ask. Yes, bug spray. Some serious, high-DEET Jungle Juice. Part of the bike ride was through the Blackwater Wildlife Refuge, which is, in fact, a swamp, and the race director said that if you blow a tire out there, you have about 30 seconds before you get devoured by mosquitoes. That's not a fun way to be before a marathon!

Rusty and I chatted and people-watched while we waited for the race to start.



Around 6:55 AM we sang the national anthem, and then it was time for all triathletes to get in the water!



I kissed Rusty goodbye and floated out to the buoys.



The starting line was between the two white buoys. The water was shallow enough that we could stand while we waited, and the bottom was course sand. The horn blew at 7:02 AM, and we were off!

The course was two loops around a misshapen rectangle with two very long sides and two very short sides. The water was brackish, dark, and dirty, and there was almost zero visibility. It was hard to see my own hands in the water while I was swimming! All sighting definitely had to be done above the surface. Going out on the first long side, the water was pretty calm. It was a little choppy, but that's to be expected when you're swimming with about 500 of your closest friends! I made the turn at the end of the first long side and then at the end of top side, and I was feeling pretty good. Coming back on the other long side, though, it got tough. The waves starting hitting us on our left sides, which made navigation pretty tricky. It also makes you feel kind of seasick! I had to keep telling myself that you don't finish any faster by panicking; you finish faster by moving your goshdarn arms and swimming through that mess. After I rounded the corner after the second long side I was back in the shallow area, and we all kind of waded to the next buoy, catching our breath and waving to our spectators. The waves were bad going back out on the first long side again, but after I rounded the turn at the end of the first long side for the second time, the water calmed down a lot, and I cruised to the swim finish.



That's me. In the front. With the arm.

It took me about 1:30 to finish the swim, and I was so happy to get out of the water! We exited up a boat ramp, which was SUPER-slippery, and volunteers called out our numbers so that other volunteers could hand us our T1 bags.



I had grand plans to relax in transitions and take my time, being I had no real time goal for the race except to finish, but that just didn't happen. I was not all together mentally when I got to T1, and I just went through the motions that I had gone through in my head over and over and over in the past few weeks. Wetsuit off, goggles off, cap off, socks and shoes on, race belt on, Garmin on, helmet and sunglasses on, a little BodyGlide, a little chapstick, a little Jungle Juice, and out the door to my bike. I was out in about 6 minutes.



All smiles when I jumped on the bike!

The first part of the bike course was an out-and-back. Like the rest of the course, it was flat, fast, and oh-so-tempting to just fly on. So, I did. Oops. I knew I'd go out too fast on the bike, and I totally did, despite my best efforts to slow the hell down. Around the 25-mile point, I was averaging about 17 mph and felt pretty amazing! I held it up for awhile, but around the 50-mile point, I started losing steam.

At one point in the refuge, the road was underwater for a few tenths of mile, and that was not only hard to bike though (it was almost a foot deep in some places!) but it also soaked my shoes and socks, which made biking uncomfortable. Additionally, after the water, there were a few miles of really poor quality roads, and then about 10 miles or so that were straight into 11 mph winds. By the time I hit the high school and the special needs tent at the 65-mile point, I was a little demoralized, and my average speed had dropped to about 16.4. I didn't pack a special needs bag, so I just moved a fuel bottle from my under-the-seat cage to my down-tube cage (I was fueling with watered-down Hammer gel, mixed in bottles, 100 calories every 20 minutes), kissed Rusty goodbye, and headed out for another (shorter) loop.

My goal on the next loop was just to keep my legs spinning in smooth, even circles. Not push!push!push!push!, but smooooooooth, round, even circles. I had done training rides up to 6 hours, and, just like clockwork, after 6 hours, my body started rejecting the bike. The last hour and some change were brutal! My neck seized up, and I could barely turn my head. My butt was killing me, and even my knees were complaining! It was hard to stay positive, but I remembered that Rusty would be there at the end, and I'd be able to change my clothes and spend some time on my feet once I got to T2. I just had to finish the bike! Through the water again, over the bad roads again, into the wind again, and then I was done. 112 miles. Holy crap.



Again, I meant to take my time in T2, but I just went through the motions again. In my T2 bag: small towel, run socks (Injinjis), run shoes, run shorts, sports bra, t-shirt, visor, BodyGlide, chapstick. The only thing I wished I had had in T2 was another bottle of Jungle Juice to spray myself down with. I had sweated off most of the Jungle Juice that I applied in T1, and the mosquitoes were brutal on the run!

Oh, the run...



There was no way that I should have been running. It's just not human and just not natural, but I was doing it. I was running! It wasn't fast, certainly, and I stopped to walk every once in awhile, but I ran most of the marathon. Triumph of the human spirit? Lack of remaining sanity? Indomitable pride? I think it was all three. I ran better and further during the last leg of my ironman than I have in most of training runs. It's mind-blowing and life-changing, seeing what your body can do when you push it.

That's not to say it was easy--it was brutal at times. The course was three eight-ish-mile out-and-backs. The first out-and-back wasn't too terrible, but when I got to the finish area to turn around and saw Rusty, I realized I had two more laps to go, and that was kind of disheartening. The second lap was okay--I jogged with a guy named Brian for most of it, and that help pass the time--but it started to get dark on the way back in, and the mosquitoes got brutal. The mosquitoes were approximately the size of small birds, and they kept getting stuck to the quarter-inch-thick layer of BodyGlide, sweat, marsh water, bug spray, and more sweat on my arms and legs. They weren't all biting me, but still annoying nonetheless. And, when I say dark, I mean DARK. Black. No lights, middle of the swamp. I could barely see the road I was running on, and they gave us glow-stick necklaces so that cars wouldn't hit us. Yikes.

Once I started the last lap, though, I knew that I was going to finish. Even if I slowly walked the whole final loop, I would finish well before the 17-hour cutoff time. If I jogged at least have of it, I would make it under 16 hours. Knowing that, it was easy to keep moving. There was no pressure. Throughout the run I took in a gel every 2 miles and a cup of water at each aid station--there was an aid station about every mile--and I kept that up through all three loops.

The race clock said 15:41 when I ran over the timing mat.



I can't believe I'm an ironman! Holy crap! I got my ginormous medal and sat down for a minute while everyone fluttered around getting me things and talking to me slowly like I might be retarded. "Hiiiii. Con gra tu la tions! Here, I'm going to put this cold towel on your neck... What do you neeeeeed?" Fair enough. I might be retarded. I just did an ironman.

Rusty came and congratulated me, and we walked to the high school's gym where they were giving free massages. The massage was amazing! I'm pretty sure that's the only reason I'm walking today! Bless the masseuses giving free massages. They had to touch some nasty bodies. When I walked up to the table the masseuse asked me, "Do you want to take off your shoes?" I asked him, "Do YOU want me to take off my shoes?" He laughed and said he had smelled so many nasty feet today that he was sure mine wouldn't be shocking.

The locker rooms in the gym were open for people who wanted to take showers, but I just wanted to go home. Rusty and I started heading back to DC. We got a couple miles away, and then I decided I was hungry, so we stopped at a Denny's. Turns out I wasn't hungry, but the highlight of my night was the waitress doing an imitation of one of the other triathletes who had come to eat there earlier. When she saw me, she said, "Oh! You must have done that race today!" I asked her if other athletes had been in, and she said, "There was a guy in here earlier with funny socks that came up to his knees, and he had a bandage here [she pointed to her neck], an ice pack taped here [she pointed to right knee], and he was walking like this [she leaned back with her hands on her lower back like she was pregnant and walked slowly, kind of swinging her hips and barely bending her knees]." It was spot on.

Hope everyone's having a happy race season! I have a 10K this weekend, so I'll be reporting again soon. :)

My first 26.2!

So, I ran The North Face Endurance Challenge marathon-distance trail race on Saturday. My first marathon was an AMAZING experience! AMAZING.



However, so many things went wrong! So many things, though, that I had to laugh at the end of the day. Alternate titles for this post could be:

(a) Why You Should Invest in Trail Shoes for a Trail Marathon
(b) Why I Can't Seem To Do Anything the Easy Way

Let's start with (b) Why I Can't Seem to Do Anything the Easy Way. Running 26.2 miles is no easy feat for most people. In fact, it's estimated that only 1% of Americans finish a marathon in their lifetime. It's a long race, both in terms of distance and time. It's a race for which one trains really hard, and, most of the time, one trains by running on streets, which is the surface on which most marathons are run.

So, what on earth possessed me to think, "Hey, I think I can run 26.2 miles--how about I try to do it for the first time on single-track hiking trails?" I don't know. I just don't know. I did a half-Ironman for my first triathlon and a trail race for my first marathon. I just can't seem to do anything the easy way!

I guess I initially thought that there wouldn't be too much of a difference between running on a trail and running on the road except for the surface composition. WRONG! This marathon wasn't on a running trail; it was on a hiking trail! That means it was almost all ascents and descents (4796' total elevation change), and there were parts that were just NOT runnable--you know, like parts where you're climbing over boulders.

Check out the elevation chart from the runner's guide:



Needless to say, this was no easy race! Let me start at the beginning.

First, I had a minor disaster with my Zipcar, which I took to the race. Zipcar is a (usually) awesome car-sharing service. I reserved the Zipcar for the whole day, but when I went to pick it up at it's location, it wasn't there! I was already late at this point and starting to panic. I very angrily called the Zipcar people, and they put me in another car immediately, but the other car was parked about a mile down the road. Grumble, grumble. I walked to the other location and started heading to the race. Thankfully I made it on time!

I had just enough time to pick up my packet, stretch, jog a bit, and prep all my gear.







By the way, I don't have any pictures to document what I'm about to say, but I need you to believe me. If you are wondering what sport has, by far, the HOTTEST male athletes, it's trail running. No other sport even comes close. Rugged, ripped, tattooed, and rough around the edges. Wow.

Anyway, a few minutes before 9:00 AM, we had a pre-race pep talk from Dean Karnazes, which was really cool! I mean, it was cool that he was there. The pep talk freaked me out! It started like this:

Dean Karnazes: For how many of you is this your first trail race?
(I and some others raise our hands.)
Dean Karnazes: For how many of you is this your first marathon-distance race?
(I and some others raise our hands.)
Dean Karnazes: [Laughs hysterically.] You guys are insane!

That was my first cue that this was going to be a rough one. I didn't pay attention to much after that. I just started silently panicking.

The race started promptly at 9:00 AM. I stuck to the back, knowing that I would be one of the slowest. It took awhile for everyone to settle into the single track in the proper order, so I actually had to stop and wait a minute at the trailhead.

Let me take this opportunity to discuss (a) Why You Should Invest in Trail Shoes for a Trail Marathon. Trail shoes have thicker soles and much more traction than road shoes, making it easier to stay stable on all kinds of terrain. They also usually have reinforces toe boxes so that you don't damage your toes when you repeatedly kick things sticking out of the ground.

I really should have got some!

First, I stubbed my toes on roots and rocks approximately 25,000,000 times. My toes hurt SO BAD by the end of the race! Worse than that though, the lack of traction on my Nike LunarGlides caused me to take a nasty spill around mile 3.5 while I was running on a rocky stretch, disguised by a layer of pine straw. My right knee took the brunt of the fall. I walked off the pain for a minute and then got up and kept running. It wasn't really bothering me at all after a bit, but I knew it looked nasty.

When I hit the first aid station at mile 5.6, they sent me to the medical tent to get it cleaned. I hadn't noticed, but it was pretty much gushing blood. Oops! They cleaned it and tried to bandage it, but it was too big for their bandaids. No big deal. The only issue I had with all of this cleaning/bandaging nonense was that I was losing time! Unfortunately, a lot of the med checks were not optional, as I would learn.

This is what my knee looks like now.



It's cleaning up pretty well.

After leaving the first aid station, I hit an awesome runner's high and ran well and strong for a couple miles. The trail became wider and packed, and the hills were shorter and shallower than they had been previously. I started loving it! I thought, "Wow. Trail running is the best ever! I want to do this everyday!" And then, in my endophin-induced daze, I tripped and fell around mile 8.7. Damnit.

When I hit the second aid station at mile 10.5, I had a bloody elbow and hand, and they sent me to the med tent again. I just couldn't win! They kept asking me simple questions and feeding me Gu Brew while they cleaned me. I told them that I wasn't falling because I was dehydrated and woozy--I'm just a clutz without trail shoes! They weren't listening. Boo. More time taken away from me.

Here are my elbow and hand now.





They don't look bad at all, do they? I'm still mad about getting stuck at that med tent.

Leaving the aid station after mile 10.5, I felt great again! I started dragging about mile 12. I hit another high around mile 13. I started dragging again around mile 15. So it continued for the rest of the race. My walk-run ratio started getting higher and higher, and by mile 20 I was just about tapped out. I would have brief bursts of energy and start running again, but it wouldn't last more than a few tenths of a mile.

It was tough mentally. I wanted so much to run--and I did when I would hit the brief stretches of flat trail--but having enough energy to run is not the same as having enough energy to scramble up hills, hop over roots, and dance around rocks. I had trained to RUN 26.2 miles, and I knew I could do it. However, I just wasn't able to run 26.2 miles of trail, and that was hard to take, especially at mile 20, knowing I had 6.2 more to go. I wanted to cry. I wanted to quit. But more than that, I wanted to finish.

It was brutal, but I did it!



Crossing the finish line was all I wanted, and I got it! I'M A MARATHONER!

I still can't believe it. I ran my first mile back in February. I ran my first 5K race in April. 5K in April, then 42K in October! Running is a serious addiction.

I'm already registered for a regular road marathon here in Atlanta in March, and I know that it's going to be a totally different experience. I can't wait!

Ironman 70.3 Augusta

Yesterday was the BEST. DAY. EVER. I'm not even joking! My favorite day of my life. Was it perfect? No. There were parts of each event (and each transition) that were absolutely horrible. But, all in all, I wouldn't take back any minute of it.

Pre-Race Day

It all started Saturday. My friend Jess and I left Atlanta around 10 AM to drive to Augusta. Jess is definitely the best spectathlete ever! We got there later than expected due to some horrific roadwork disaster that is going down on I-20 East, but we still had time to do everything. We arrived around 2 PM and immediately got to work.

There's so much you have to do before an Ironman 70.3! First, I had to check in at the Athlete's Village at the host hotel. The line was so long! They give you your packet, wristband, bibs, stickers, t-shirt, gear bags, and goodies. Then, there's a 30-minute course briefing to go over the rules and regs for the race.

Next, on to bike check-in.



There was a mandatory bike check-in on Saturday evening, so I had to take my baby over there and leave her overnight! It was kind of traumatic to abandon her like that, but I knew I'd see her in the morning.

Let me take this opportunity to mention for the first time that I was INCREDIBLY daunted before the race. Standing in transition, I realized that I had, by far, one of the cheapest bikes there. I don't have aerobars, and I don't have bottle launchers (those water bottle holders that go behind your seat). I don't even have bike shoes and fancy pedals! Browsing the bikes in my row, I realized that I was a bit out of my league, equipment wise.

I had to remind myself of one of the things I learned at the Georgia Games cycling race: Better equipment DOES NOT equal a better athlete. I still panicked a bit and looked to Jess and my friend Rusty for encouragement. They talked me down from a couple panic attacks!

After checking in my bike, we checked into the hotel. We were exhausted from hiking around Augusta all day, so we ordered Chinese food and hit the hay early. Like, 8:30 PM early! I think Jess was actually asleep around 7:30 or 8:00!

Race Day

The alarm went off at 4:30 AM, and I hopped out of bed, ready to go! I was so prepared for this day! I had a step-by-step list of everything I had to do in the morning, so I had no reason to panic at this point. I had all of my things packed in separate bags for pre-swim, T1, T2, and post-run. I had a feeding schedule starting from wake-up call to finishing the run. Preparation is EVERYTHING. I live by the proverb, "Failing to plan is planning to fail."

First stop: Transition. I had to pump up my tires and drop off my T1 and T2 bags. I laid everything out carefully on a towel.

For T1 (swim-to-bike transition):
--large towel to lay out under bike wheel
--small towel to wipe feet with
--energy gel to slam before getting on the bike
--small water bottle to wash down the gel
--helmet
--wicking headband
--sunglasses
--Garmin
--gloves
--calf sleeves
--socks
--shoes
--shirt
--race belt with bib affixed
--fuel belt with gels

For T2 (bike-to-run transition):
--energy gel to slam before hitting the road
--small water bottle to wash down the gel
--visor

I also got my body marked at transition in the morning. They mark your bicep with your bib number and your calf with your age. It's really fun to see everyone's ages when you're racing! That is, until you get passed by a 63-year-old, which happened to me on the run course! Ha! It was still cool, though.

Check out my body marking.



Next, it was on to the swim start, which was NOT at transition. For a lot of races, the swim course is an out-and-back or a triangle, but this swim course was a straight shot down the Savannah River, so the swim start was 1.2 miles down the road from transition. We walked down there to get my timing chip and check out the area.

After I picked up my chip, it started raining. Boo. It wasn't raining hard, but we still didn't want to stand around waiting at the swim start in the rain, so we walked another half-mile down the road to the host hotel to hang out for a bit.



Jess napped for a few minutes, so I moved to the next thing on my to-do list: Plan to distract myself during the run. I knew the run leg was going to be rough. I knew I'd be tired and sore, and running 13.1 miles without music is hard enough as it is! In normal situations, I can let my mind wander for hours and hours without getting bored, but this situation was going to require some planning.

I made a list a self-discussion topics and other mental games to play. Then, I wrote them on my forearm.



I covered all of the topics except potential hairstyles (insuffciently distracting) and my plan for the zombie apocalypse (required too much concentration.) The other athletes I showed it to thought I was INSANE, but it helped me a lot!

After some stretching, it was time to suit up! I covered my legs in BodyGlide so I could pull on the wetsuit without too much issue. It's still not an easy feat! It was still raining when it was time to suit up, so I did it outside the front door of the hotel.







I decided that was good enough at that moment! We walked down to swim start, and I finished gearing up for the swim.



There was more waiting...



FINALLY! It was time to start! One last pic.



I ran down to swim start, and I immediately started to get super-nervous! Not because anyone had better equipment than me, though. In fact, we were all essentially in the same wetsuit. I was nervous because I was about to start an epic quest, and I had no idea if I could do it! I did know, however, that quitting was not an option. I may have hyperventilated. Just a little.

They called my age group. We all hopped in the water and floated to the starting buoys. They sounded the horns, and we were off!



Like I said, the course was a straight shot down the Savannah River.



So, it was still raining during the swim, but it wasn't raining hard enough for it to really be an issue. It wasn't complicating my breathing patterns, or anything like that. It was just mildly annoying. More annoying than that was the fact that I couldn't seem to swim in a straight line! I kept popping my head up and finding myself headed for shore or headed for the buoy line! There were a couple times that I had to slow down, stop getting angry at myself, re-center myself mentally, and then push ahead strong.

When I first caught sight of the finishing gates, I looked around and realized that I was NOT surrounded by other dark green swim caps! I was in a sea of pink and yellow caps. I had no idea what that meant until later, but I now know that the pinks were the fastest swimmers from the wave 4 minutes after me, and the yellow caps were the slowest swimmers from the wave 8 minutes ahead of me!

Jess was waiting for me when I ran up the chute to transition! My official swim time was 29:58 for the 1.2 miles.



It took my 9:52 to get out of T1! It was a long run into the transition area from the water, and it took me a minute to navigate the area to get to my bike. The wetsuit strippers were great, though! There was a line of volunteers inside transition to help us out of our wetsuits, and they were priceless. They grabbed your zipper and ripped it down, and then you sat down, and they ripped the suit off your legs. Took 10 seconds! I geared up with my T1 stuff and tried to get out the gate as soon as possible.

There I go!



Oh, the bike ride. It was epic! I felt so amazing! In training, I'm lucky if I can get home with my Garmin showing an average of 14 mph. I know it's not because I ride that slow but because I ride in the city where I stop a lot, change directions a lot, dodge obstacles a lot, etc. I guess I thought that all of the stopping and starting only accounted for maybe 1 or 2 mph, though, so I told Jess that I'd finish the bike course in 4 hours, give or take 15 minutes maybe, thinking that I'd average about 15 mph. On this ride though, I averaged 17.1 mph! I finished in 3:16:57! Jess missed me at transition because I got in so early, but that's totally okay with me. I was so proud!

On the bike course, I felt like I was flying. Also, I felt like the course was flat as a pancake! Athletes from other areas were complaining about how hilly it was, but, compared to the hills in Atlanta, these were nothing. I took it a little slow in the beginning, just to feel out the situation, but I felt so powerful after the first hour that I felt comfortable turning it up a notch. At about the half-way point I was averaging 16.7 mph, and I cruised into transition averaging 17.1 mph overall.

The downside of the bike course: It RAINED the whole time. Not sprinkled. It's RAINED. At one point, it was raining so hard that if I had been driving a car, I would have pulled over to wait it out. It was kind of miserable at first! After awhile though, I just got used to it. The rain stopped for a few minutes around mile 35, and the only reason I noticed is that it suddenly became quiet. It was sort of creepy. It took me a minute to realize that it was quiet because I no longer heard raindrops hitting my helmet! But, then the rain started again, and everything went back to normal.

I was in T2 for 4:02 before I hit the road for the run. All I had to do was drop my helmet, headband, sunglasses, gloves, and fuel belt, and put on my visor. I slammed a gel and some water and headed straight out.

I felt pretty awesome through the first half of the run course! I ran the first 6 miles, averaging about 10:30 per mile. Unfortunately, I then began feeling the blisters. I was running in socks and shoes that were absolutely drenched! Blisters were forming on every square inch of my feet. I started a walk-run pattern that I kept up until the end. It was BRUTAL, but I finished!

Jess was there to see me run down the finisher's chute!



I was SO glad to be done!



I finished in 6:37:36, which I'm pretty stoked about! I was worried that I wouldn't finish at all! I'm so proud of myself, it's unreal. Even as I lay in bed today, inable of operating either of my legs, I'm still so so so so so happy that I did it!

The bike race that wasn't

On Saturday, my roommate Jessica, our friend Paul and I headed up to north Georgia for the Georgia Games.



As you can see in the banner above, it's sort of Georgia's version of the Olympics. Jess, Paul and I were there for the Road Cycling Championships. Jess and I were riding in Women's Category 4, which was a 38-mile course, and Paul was in Men's Category 4, which was a 53-mile course.

Paul has a truck, so he picked up our bikes at 6:00 AM, and Jess and I rode up there separately in Jess's car so we wouldn't all have to squish into the cab.





We had NO IDEA what we were getting into! When we got there, we realized that we were all way out of our league--Jess and I moreso than Paul. We walked into a parking lot full of expensive bikes, pro racers, and frantic coaches.

We were tragically unmatched. Paul at least had appropriate apparel and shoes; Jess and I were wearing our running shoes and brought CamelBaks! We stuck out like sore thumbs as soon as we exited our vehicles. Even better yet, Jess doesn't have a road bike; she has a hybrid! We practically got laughed off the course before it even started.

Here we are getting ready to roll:





Most of the bikers competing were professionals. We were nearly the only bikers who weren't on teams, and we were probably the only bikers who hadn't been training constantly for months.

Result? Jess and I were dropped from the race in MILE 2. Yep, you read that right. Mile 2. Jess didn't clear the first hill with the main field, and when I told the support vehicles that I was going to slow down and wait for her to catch up, they went ahead and passed me.

Did we let it stop us? HELL NO. Jess and I finished the full 38 miles, not stopping once, and we finished strong. What do I mean when I say we "finished strong"? I mean that we finished the best that we could, and we were hella proud. We raced against ourselves, and, in the end, we still won that thing. 38 miles is a distance record for both Jess and I, and we ended up averaging a few miles-per-hour faster than we usually ride.

We showed up, and we did it. That's more than most people can say! (Thanks to Kristin for reminding us of that!)

Top-5 Lessons I Learned:

• You cannot be daunted by people just because they have better equipment. Anyone with money can buy a fancy bike; it doesn't mean they can use it. Could I have kept up with the main field of pro racers, with their fancy bikes, wheelsets, and shoes? Certainly not for the whole 38 miles, but I could have given them a run, even in my running shoes and toe clips. I have strength, and I have heart. Take that, schmucks who made fun of me!


• You absolutely cannot let people tell you what you can and cannot do. Only you know how much you're capable of, and you're probably capable of twice that much if you really want it. A friend of ours told Jess she wouldn't be able to do 38 miles at all on her hybrid bike. Not only did she do it, but she kicked ass, too.


• You have to push yourself a little to know what you're made of. How will you know how far you can go if you don't try to find that limit? I knew it was probably silly to sign up for a cycling race for a distance I had never done in training. How did I know that I'd be able to race 38 miles? I totally didn't! But I really needed to know if I could, and I knew I'd never find out until I pushed myself out of my comfort zone.


• You've got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em... You've also got to know what legitimate reasons for folding are. When I didn't see Jess come over the top of the first climb right behind me, I had a choice. I could hold back and wait for her, or I could catch up with the main field and trust that she'd catch up soon. I knew where my priorities were, though. Jess and I hadn't shown up to race the main field and sprint for first at the end--we'd shown up to finish the race. Riding with Jess was much more important.


• You have to own your victories. Yes, you may think that Jess's and my performance at the Georgia Games was embarrassing. Sure, we were dropped in mile 2. Sure, we were repeatedly made fun of by other racers and some of the volunteers and staff. But, Jess and I got up Saturday morning, drove to north Georgia, and finished a 38-mile cycling race. You can't take that away from us.

My unofficial 6th lesson is: Stick to running! Ha! At least for now.

Have you ever shown up to a race and found yourself tragically unmatched with the competition? What did you do?

The news up till now

Please don't hate me for being so negligent about blogging! I'm terribly sorry!



Let me tell you what's been going on up till now:

• Everyday, I've continued my training, which is usually:
• Monday: weight training & swimming (1.2 miles)
• Tuesday: run (3 miles)
• Wednesday: shorter bike ride (20ish miles)
• Thursday: run (3 miles)
• Friday: longer bike ride (30ish miles)
• Saturday: rest/yoga/walk
• Sunday: long run
• July 1st: last summer exam!
• July 3rd: 14-mile run!
• July 4th: Peachtree Road Race 10K!
• July 6th: last day of work at the library!

It's been crazy recently!



So, yes. I ran 14 miles on Saturday and then promptly ran another 6.2 at the Peachtree Road Race on Sunday. Am I insane? Why, yes! Yes, I am!

You see, I had to fit in a 14-miler this past weekend for my marathon training. First, I thought about getting up early and running 8 of the miles before the race started on Sunday, but I would have had to start running at 3:30 AM, which I just don't do. It's still far too dark at 3:30 AM for me to feel safe. Also, I wanted to be able to race the Peachtree (at least a little), so I didn't want to wear myself out with 8 miles beforehand. Then, I thought about putting in the extra 8 after the race. That plan just wasn't ideal either though because (a) it would be way too hot after the race, and (b) I wanted to relax at the post-race party afterwards! Lastly, I thought about splitting the 14 and doing 8 on Saturday and 6 on Sunday, but I wouldn't get the experience of the full 14.

Conclusion: Run 14 on Saturday and 6 on Sunday. I had to do it.

The 14-miler was good. It wasn't my best showing, and I wasn't begging for more after my Garmin beeped at 14, but I finished. I had a minor accomplishment along the way: I destroyed a hill that I thought would destroy me. We're talking a .5-mile-long, >1%-grade climb.

Can you see that mess?



Do talk to yourself (out loud or otherwise) while you're running? I totally talk to myself! All the time. I have a variety of mantras I chant to myself. Among my favorites for hills are:

• You don't have to win, you just have to finish
• Slow is smooth, smooth is fast
• Pain is temporary, quitting is forever
• I'm a warrior. I'm a WARRIOR!

I knew I'd hit the monster around the 10-mile mark, so I started psyching myself up around mile 9. I didn't know if any of my usual mantras were going to be enough to power me up the beast, so I started the pep talk early, hoping a new mantra would come to me. It did.

My pep talk started with me reminding myself about the "real" purpose of many competitions: Separating the men from the boys. Yes, it's sexist, but it worked. I had the following conversation with myself for about 5 minutes: "This hill is going to separate the men from the boys. Are you a man, or are you a boy? Are you going to be scared, or are you going to dominate? Are you a child? Are you no stronger than a child? No! I'm a man! I'M A MAN!" The whole way up the hill, I chanted to myself, "I'm a man! I'm a man! I'm a man!" Yes, the other runners and bikers moved to the other side of the path and probably thought I had lost my marbles, but it worked.

What do y'all say to yourselves to keep you going? Do you say it out loud, or just in your head?

Post-run, I iced and tried to take it easy. I was sore as all get-out, and I wanted to run some semblance of a decent race at the Peachtree. I ate all the carbs in the house! It was fantastic.

Sunday morning, I took the train up to the starting line, bright and early. I was greeted by a bevy of race photographers! Ack!



Surely someone could have told me that I had constructed the most poorly-matching, altogether-hideous running outfit ever? If you're wondering, "Did she get dressed in the dark?", the answer is yes. Of course, I did pack the day before...

Anyway, the Peachtree Road Race is the largest 10K in the country, and I ended up racing it with 55,000 of my closest buddies!




(photos from ajc.com)

It was the 41st running of the race, and it's become quite an Atlanta tradition! The whole 6.2 miles were lined with live music, spectators, and vendors. There were kids with water guns shooting us, and even the fire department was out there with their hoses! Everyone is cheering the whole time--it really helps ya keep going!

The first three miles weren't bad at all. They were mostly downhill, and I felt really good, despite waking up to sore legs from my Saturday run.



After those three downhill miles, it was pretty much three uphill miles. Ouch. I ran through almost all of it--only walking through the water stops--but I only ran so much because walking hurt more than running! Weird how that happens, eh? I tried to walk once on the hill Atlantans call "Cardiac Hill," but my calves started screaming, so I starting running again within a few seconds. By the end of the 10K, I was so ready to be done!

I crossed the line at 1:06:47. Also not my best showing, but I did it on sore legs! I'm an F-ing machine! I picked up my t-shirt and some grub, and then I wandered around looking for Jeff.

A lot of people run the Peachtree just for the t-shirt. There's a huge competition for the t-shirt design every year. This year, a chick from my alma mater (University of West Georgia) won! I think it's a pretty cool-looking shirt.



The t-shirts are coveted by Atlantans. They get you discounts and free things all over the city, and you can only get one by running and finishing. I used mine to get a free beer at Milltown Arms and a $4 burrito at Willy's. I wish I could have leveraged it for more, but...well...I wasn't walking so well. It sucked. I couldn't even go to the fireworks show I wanted to see! That's what I get for putting in 20 miles in 2 days, but I'd say it was worth it!

Coming up, I'm competing in the Georgia Games!



I'm doing a 32-mile road cycling race on Saturday with my friend Paul. It's going to be my first cycling race! I'm so excited!