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What's Going Through My Head

8/21/2013

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It's Wednesday and while I have a million and one things that I should be doing, I needed to tell the world to stop, or at least slow down, while I gather my thoughts on this weekend.

It's hard to believe that the date circled in my calendar for months now is finally arriving.  The day I have dedicated my life (and savings) to for the past eight months.  The day in which I hope to accomplish something greater than I ever thought possible.  The day I (God willingly) will become an Ironman.

I'm not going to lie.  I've got a LOT on my mind right now.  Do I have everything I need?  Am I ready for the challenging bike course?  Should I have tapered differently?  Is it OK that I probably gained five pounds this past week just because I've been eating and not training as much?  Is my bike going to flat out on me?  Is it going to be cold, hot or windy?  Really, the list goes on and on and on...

This article that my friend (and now an Ironman as of Sunday, you get it girl) Christa sent me sums it up pretty well.  Please humor me and read it.
You've been following your schedule to the letter. You've been piling on the mileage, piling up the laundry, and getting a set of tan lines that will take until next year to erase. Long rides were followed by long runs, which both were preceded by long swims, all of which were followed by recovery naps that were longer than you slept for any given night during college. 

You ran in the snow. 
You rode in the rain. 
You ran in the heat. 
You ran in the cold. 

You went out when others stayed home. 
You rode the trainer when others pulled the covers over their heads. 

You have survived the Darwinian progression that is an Ironman summer, and now the hardest days are behind you. Like a climber in the Tour de France coming over the summit of the penultimate climb on an alpine stage, you've already covered so much ground...there's just one more climb to go. You shift up, you take a drink, you zip up the jersey; the descent lies before you...and it will be a fast one. 

Time that used to be filled with never-ending work will now be filling with silent muscles, taking their final, well-earned rest. While this taper is something your body desperately needs, your mind cast off to the background for so very long, will start to speak to you. 

It won't be pretty. 

It will bring up thoughts of doubt, pain, hunger, thirst, failure, and loss. It will give you reasons why you aren't ready. It will try and make one last stand to stop you, because your brain doesn't know what the body already does. Your body knows the truth: 

You are ready. 

Your brain won't believe it. It will use the taper to convince you that this is foolish - that there is too much that can go wrong. 

You are ready. 

Finishing an Ironman is never an accident. It's the result of dedication, focus, hard work, and belief that all the long runs in January, long rides in April, and long swims every damn weekend will be worth it. It comes from getting on the bike, day in, day out. It comes from long, solo runs. From that first long run where you wondered, "How will I ever be ready?" to the last long run where you smiled to yourself with one mile to go...knowing that you'd found the answer. 

It is worth it. Now that you're at the taper, you know it will be worth it. The workload becomes less. The body winds up and prepares, and you just need to quiet your worried mind. Not easy, but you can do it. 

You are ready. 

You will walk into the water with 2000 other wide-open sets of eyes. You will look upon the sea of humanity, and know that you belong. You'll feel the chill of the water crawl into your wetsuit, and shiver like everyone else, but smile because the day you have waited for so VERY long is finally here. 

You will tear up in your goggles. Everyone does. 

The helicopters will roar overhead. 
The splashing will surround you. 

You'll stop thinking about Ironman, because you're now racing one. 

The swim will be long - it's long for everyone, but you'll make it. You'll watch as the shoreline grows and grows, and soon you'll hear the end. You'll come up the beach and head for the wetsuit strippers. Three people will get that sucker off before you know what happening, then you’ll head for the bike. 

The voices, the cowbells, and the curb-to-curb chalk giving you a hero's sendoff can't wipe the smile off your face. 

You'll settle down to your race. The crowds will spread out on the road. You'll soon be on your bike, eating your food on your schedule, controlling your Ironman. 

You'll start to feel that morning sun turn to afternoon sun. It's warmer now. Maybe it's hot. Maybe you're not feeling so good now. You'll keep riding. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep moving. After all, this is just a long training day with valet parking and catering, right? 

You'll put on your game face, fighting the urge to feel down as you ride for what seems like hours. You reach special needs, fuel up, and head out. 

By now it'll be hot. You'll be tired. Doubts will fight for your focus. Everyone struggles here. You've been on that bike for a few hours, and stopping would be nice, but you won't - not here. Not today. 

You'll grind the false flats to the climb. You'll know you're almost there. You'll fight for every inch of road. The crowd will come back to you here. Let their energy push you. Let them see your eyes. Smile when they cheer for you - your body will get just that little bit lighter. 

Grind. 
Fight. 
Suffer. 
Persevere. 


You'll plunge down the road, swooping from corner to corner, chaining together the turns, tucking on the straights, letting your legs recover for the run to come - soon! You'll roll back - you'll see people running out. You'll think to yourself, "Wasn't I just here?" 

The noise will grow. The chalk dust will hang in the air - you're back, with only 26.2 miles to go. You'll relax a little bit, knowing that even if you get a flat tire or something breaks here, you can run the damn bike into T2. 

You'll roll into transition. 100 volunteers will fight for your bike. You'll give it up and not look back. You'll have your bag handed to you, and into the tent you'll go. You'll change. You'll load up your pockets, and open the door to the last long run of your Ironman summer - the one that counts. 

You'll take that first step of a thousand...and you'll smile. You'll know that the bike won't let you down now - the race is down to your own two feet. The same crowd that cheered for you in the shadows of the morning will cheer for you in the brilliant sunshine of a summer Sunday. High-five people on the way out. Smile. Enjoy it. This is what you've worked for all year long. 

That first mile will feel great. So will the second. By mile 3, you probably won't feel so good. 

That's okay. You knew it couldn't all be that easy. You'll settle down just like you did on the bike, and get down to your pace. You'll see the leaders coming back the other way. Some will look great - some won't. You might feel great, you might not. No matter how you feel, don't panic - this is the part of the day where whatever you're feeling, you can be sure it won't last. 

You'll keep moving. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep eating. Maybe you'll be right on plan - maybe you won't. If you're ahead of schedule, don't worry - believe. If you're behind, don't panic - roll with it. Everyone comes up with a brilliant race plan for Ironman, and then everyone has to deal with the reality that planning for something like Ironman is like trying to land a man on the moon. By remote control. Blindfolded. 

How you react to the changes in your plan will dictate your day. Don't waste energy worrying about things - just do what you have to when you have to, and keep moving. Keep eating. Keep drinking. Just don't sit down - don't EVER sit down. 

You'll make it to the halfway point. You'll load up on special needs. Some of what you packed will look good, some won't. Eat what looks good, toss the rest. Keep moving. Start looking for people you know. Cheer for people you don't. You're headed in - they're not. They want to be where you are, just like you wanted to be when you saw all those fast people headed into town. Share some energy - you'll get it right back. 

Run if you can. 
Walk if you have to. 
Just keep moving. 

The miles will drag on. The brilliant sunshine will yawn. You'll be coming up to those aid stations fully alive with people, music, and chicken soup. TAKE THE SOUP. Keep moving. 

You'll soon only have a few miles to go. You'll start to believe that you're going to make it. You'll start to imagine how good it's going to feel when you get there. Let those feelings drive you on. When your legs just don't want to move anymore, think about what it's going to be like when someone catches you…and puts a medal over your head... all you have to do is get there. 

You'll start to hear the people in town. People you can't see in the twilight will cheer for you. They'll call out your name. Smile and thank them. They were there when you left on the bike, and when you came back, and when you left on the run, and now when you've come back. 

You'll enter town. You'll start to realize that the day is almost over. You'll be exhausted, wiped out, barely able to run a 10-minute mile (if you're lucky), but you'll ask yourself, "Where did the whole day go?" You'll be standing on the edge of two feelings - the desire to finally stop, and the desire to take these last moments and make them last as long as possible. 

You'll hit mile 25. Your Ironman will have 1.2 miles - just 2KM left in it. 

You'll run. You'll find your legs. You'll fly. You won't know how, but you will run. The lights will grow brighter, brighter, and brighter. Soon you'll be able to hear the music again. This time, it'll be for keeps. 

Soon they'll see you. Soon, everyone will see you. You'll run towards the lights, between the fences, and into the night sun made just for you. 

They'll say your name. 
You'll keep running. 
Nothing will hurt. 


The moment will be yours - for one moment, the entire world will be looking at you and only you. 

You'll break the tape at the finish line, 140.6 miles after starting your journey. The flash will go off. 

You'll stop. You'll finally stop. Your legs will wobble their last, and suddenly...be capable of nothing more. 

Someone will catch you. 
You'll lean into them. 

It will suddenly hit you. 

YOU ARE AN IRONMAN! 

You are ready. 
You are ready.

And you know what?  It's true.  I have put in the hard work and I am ready.  I am ready for the toughest mental and physical battle of my life.  I am ready to push myself to accomplish my dream.

We leave tonight to start our trek to Whistler.  After spending the night in Jasper, we'll arrive tomorrow evening. I will check-in Friday, do some light workouts, attend the athlete briefing, drop my bike and gear bags on Saturday, and throw my feet up knowing that it's all in God's hands from here.

But I'm not too proud to ask for some final help and motivation from everyone.  So if you have any final encouraging messages or thoughts for me, please leave them here in the comments, text me or email me.  I'm planning to gather everything and re-read them as much as possible over the next few days to remind myself why I'm here and how grateful I am for this journey.  

Thank you all for the love and support along this crazy journey.  I will be doing everything I can out there on Sunday to make you all proud!
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Two weeks ago in Whistler, eyeing up the finish line!
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Race Recap: Ironman 70.3 Calgary

8/6/2013

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Last weekend, I completed my second Half Ironman distance triathlon: Ironman 70.3 Calgary!

I made a last minute decision - the Sunday before, in fact, after a 185km ride - to sign up for and race Calgary.  I was going to be putting in the mileage and hours regardless, so why not do them in a race environment with friends?  Plus, I thought it would be smart to gain some additional long race experience, especially if something were to go wrong.  Then I could fix it and be comfortable with the uncertainty of race day challenges. 

Steph picked me up Friday evening and off we went on the three-hour drive with our friend Amanda. The GURUs kept each company on the roof while Starbucks, girl talk and a radio station contest kept us entertained during the ride!
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We stayed at the Hyatt Regency Calgary and despite an early morning (thankfully, not race morning) fire alarm, our stay was great.  The hotel was extremely accommodating with the athletes and as such, I will definitely look to stay then when I'm in town again for work.

On Saturday, we dropped our bikes and run bags and swam the course at McKenzie Lake.  Due to the flooding in Calgary, the swim and bike courses had to be entirely rerouted just two weeks before the race date.  Any outsider looking in would never have known changes were made, and I commend Paul Anderson and everyone involved with Ironman 70.3 Calgary for their flawless work to make this race happen.  Especially the Facebook communication.  It was truly outstanding.

Saturday afternoon was spent enjoying the hotel's hot tub and relaxing in our room Facebook chatting with friends back home and watching Entertainment Tonight.  (Royal Baby news is big in Canada!)  For dinner, we went to Redwater Rustic Grille where I had salmon with potatoes and asparagus.  I'm not a huge pasta carbo-load fan, and having eaten salmon before some previous races and long rides, I've found that it tends to work well for me.  Steph and Amanda each had the bison burger and declared it the best burger they've ever had.  Calgarians, be sure to check this place out!
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With our swim and dry clothes bags packed, we were in bed with lights off at 9 pm.  Steph's rule.  I wasn't super tired but knew resting would help so I did some meditative breathing and probably fell asleep by 10 pm.  I did wake up a few times throughout the night worrying that I had overslept, but in all, I had a pretty decent long night of sleep.  Thanks for enforcing the strict bed time, Steph!

Race day started at the bright and chipper time of 5 am.  We were suited up and out of the hotel by 5:40 am and at T1 by 6:10 am.  Nutrition-wise, I managed to eat half a bagel with peanut butter, a PowerBar and one packet of Honey Stinger chews.  I also finished a bottle of Gatorade.  We did our bodymarking, finished T1 needs, put on our wetsuits and headed to the lake.

The Swim

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Before we even begin to talk about the swim, I give you the now-mandatory pre-race wetsuit shot. You're welcome :)
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Three chipper Cycle-Logic Racing Team members!
At 7:05 am, the age group women were off on the 1.2 mile swim.  I should have attempted to go out in the front of the pack because I got stuck on the heels of some slower swimmers.  Lesson learned. The lake was nice but for some reason my stomach was uneasy so I was a bit unsettled during the swim.  It seemed everyone had some trouble with the buoys as I saw several people way off course. But overall, my stroke felt fine and I eventually settled into a pack and a groove.  I definitely could have held my pace for another loop, which is good news for Ironman Canada.  Not my most favorite course, nor my fastest, but good enough!
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Couldn't wait to get my cap and goggles off!
Split Time: 34:06* (8/42) 

*The fastest girl in my age group came in at 33:04.  I am so curious to know if I had her and the others in the water and if my transition time (try putting arm warmers on when you're wet) slowed me down or whether I was that far behind on the swim.  I should have gone out in front and really pushed it.  Next time...

The BIke

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As you can see from the elevation chart above, the bike course for Calgary was quite hilly, especially the first 35km.  This was a main motivator for me to register as it would be great hill practice for Whistler.  In T1, I spent a little extra time getting ready as I had to put on my arm warmers and dry off a bit more but then I was on my way.  I settled into my aerobars rather quickly and liked having a loop of a neighborhood to get into my groove before hitting the highway.

Really, there is one word to describe this course: COLD.  The weather was 8 degrees C (47 degrees F) so riding into wind while soaking wet was not a ton of fun.  I wore my tri suit + arm warmers and really was wishing I had some toe covers for my shoes.  I literally did not feel my feet due to numbness the entire 90km which was a bit interesting.

The course did live up to it's hill expectations, which I appreciated.  I feel like I am getting stronger climbing and am managing my downhills.  For those that have followed my cycling this year, you know that riding downhill is very hard for me.  With my vertigo, I get extremely anxious going down steep hills at high speeds.  Each downhill is a huge internal battle for me, and I've started talking out loud to myself to get myself through them.  While it may seem crazy, it does work.  So I am sticking with it!

Overall, I know that I need to be more aggressive on the bike.  While I clocked a time that is seven minutes faster than Great White North, I know I am stronger on the bike.  I need to get more comfortable passing people and just go for it.  I know I have it in me.  While I might be in survival mode for Ironman Canada, I'm already looking forward to another Half to really push my legs.

Nutrition-wise, I drank three bottles of Gatorade, ate a PowerBar and one packet of Honey Stinger chews.  I was happy with my efforts here and felt that I took in enough calories for myself that day.
Split Time: 3:20.13 (32/42)

The Run

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Coming into T2 was the most interesting transition of my life.  I had no feeling in my feet or my fingers from the cold and was SO thankful for the volunteer that racked my bike, dumped my bag and helped me put on and tie my tennis shoes.  I stumbled over to the porta-potty (a good sign that I was hydrating well) and then set out on the run!

Let me tell you, running on numb feet is an experience!  I was literally looking down to make sure I was putting one foot in front of the other.  I took it out fast, clocking an 8:30 mile, knowing I needed to find my groove and settle into a pace.  I decided to once again walk through each aid station to drink a sports drink/water and I am very happy with my decision to do so.

The course, which was an out-and-back around a reservoir, was also quite hilly at times, and I power walked each steep uphill.  I knew that speed would be about the same as my run speed anyways, and it was a mental savior.  At around mile 5, I realized I still hadn't regained feeling on my right foot.  In fact, my entire right leg was pins and needles for all 13.1 miles.  It didn't hurt to run on, but was an odd sensation.  I actually stopped twice to take off my shoe and slam my foot on the ground in an attempt to regain some feeling but with no luck.  I started getting a bit more nervous about it (as I had been having some ankle/leg problems) and debating seeking out some medical help, but I decided to just get myself to the finish and worry about it then.

I picked up the pace for the last three miles and all things considered, felt quite strong.  My lower back was aching from climbing hills and I still had no feeling in my right leg, but I was passing a lot of people and smiling.  I didn't struggle with any cramping (a HUGE fear of mine) and was really pleased with my run efforts especially considering a slow transition and stopping twice for a few minutes.  
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Split Time: 2:05.32 (26/42)
I was so happy to cross the finish line and see my friends cheering me in!  Super fast Steph placed second in our age group (missing first by a mere 36 seconds!) and qualified for the Ironman 70.3 World Championships in Vegas in early September.  We grabbed some food, changed our clothes, headed to the beer truck and waited for the awards ceremony before making the trek back to Edmonton to head out for a celebratory dinner with our guys.  So proud of Steph!

Overall, I thought Ironman 70.3 Calgary was a great race and I would definitely do it again.  The volunteers were fantastic and the spectator support, especially on parts of the run course, was super fun.  And the finishers medal that doubles as a belt buckle?  Only in Calgary ;)

As for doing two Half Ironmans in three weeks, with a gran fondo and 185km tour in between? Honestly, it was fantastic.  Keeping my training and racing volume high has boded well for me. Knock on wood, my body has responded well as I have focused on sleep, rest and clean eating when not racking up the miles.  Here's hoping it can hang on for another three weeks.  The most important three yet!

And last but not least, thank you all again for your support along this crazy journey.  I love getting your motivational texts and messages and knowing that you're cheering for me really pushes me through on race day.  You've all inspired me for one reason or another, and I hope I am helping inspire you to go for you dreams.  It's true that anything is possible when you put your mind to it.
Overall Time: 5:59.42 (27/42)
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    Hi, I'm Julie!  
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