Watch Out For Gravel

With the start of "off season," several of my training buddies have been bitten by the mountain biking bug.

I tried mountain bike riding a few years back. Like 10 to put it in perspective. I can't remember where we rode, but I do remember being so proud of myself after rolling over a few small log piles. I also recall thinking it was fun - like a day of hiking - though I hopped off the bike for a few more scary sections of the trail.

Well, my friends are on a whole 'nother level with their excursions. I've heard about the crazy falls and seen the impressive hematomas.

They've been gradually wearing me down, though, with promises of becoming a better bicyclist. When my company sent out the ten year work anniversary "pick your award" email, I noticed there was a mountain bike.

This must be a sign, right?

So I cut and paste the details and forwarded to the mountain bike goddesses.

Who promptly wrote back (kindly not making fun of me in the response)...

"No - that is a cruising mountain bike - meant for nice rides on sidewalks!"

Given I can't even pick out a mountain bike, let alone have the daredevil coordination to stay on the thing - I am thinking this may actually be a sign -

To stay on paved surfaces!

Ironman Arizona

Wishing a great race to several friends doing Ironman Arizona today. According to the athlete tracker, everyone is having a solid race - and though I wish I could be watching on the live feed, for some mysterious reason it won't download on either my desktop or laptop.

Pretty annoying.

But from the pictures, it looks like a beautiful day to race - and become an Ironman (a special shout-out to FAVE!)!

Putting it Out There

First - much congrats to all the Richmond IMFL finishers! You were exciting and inspiring to follow yesterday through the IM website and online feed (which thankfully worked most of the time) as well as sherpa texts, FB posts and phone calls. I can't wait to hear everyone's stories - and hope you all are basking in post race activities right now!

Seems I was one of many remembering the magic of Panama City. Over the past few days, a rumor has started and seems to be gaining momentum - a return to IMFL in 2011?

Hmmmm. What a happy thought!

And a shout out to Guppy TVR - who completed the iron distance Beach to Battleship - in 9:50!

All this race excitement has motivated me to put my 2010 race plans out there.

The theme for next year is "cheap, within driving distance - and fun." No worrisome travel or intimidating courses:

• Virginia is for Lovers 14 K - a tribute to John Kainer with some of the most fun peeps around
• Rumpass in Bumpass Olympic - my favorite local race
• Monument 10K - my best run ever - a goal to try to hit again
• Florida 70.3 - not definite - but hoping it works out
• MightyMan - somebody owes me a beautiful day for this gorgeous hometown race course
• Beach to Battleship IM Distance - for some reason, this race really appeals to me

And the best part - each of these races makes me...

Smile.

IMFL 2009

Goooooo strong, wonderful and fabulous IMFL girls (and boys)!!!!!

(I think I am more excited about friends doing IMFL this year than I was about IMUSA.)

They have trained hard and through obstacles. They deserve the beautiful weather forecasted - and the wonderful onsite super sherpa treatment. A few of us are left behind to cheer from afar - but we'll be doing so with gusto!

So excited for you inspiring women - and can't wait to hear your stories!

Feeling Better

2009 has been an interesting year so far.

The moments when things fell into place seemed to be outnumbered by those when things felt off - sometimes due to the physical, sometimes to the mental. IMUSA and the Giant Acorn being obvious examples.

After IMUSA, Ironwoman Canada told me that I needed to cut back. To allow myself to get worse before I could better again.

I did well with getting worse.

And the past week or so, I am finding that I am starting to feel better.

I am not failing as miserably at running. I even had my best 400 about a week and a half ago thanks to some individual attention from Ironwoman Canada. Then, at last week's track workout, Cupcake KO was a wonderful running buddy and pacer. Yesterday, Barracuda BL, the Should Be Sponsored Wife and I went for an easy run. Except none of us seemed to remember the easy part. Great weather and good company had us pushing the pace - maybe to enjoy the coffee reward at the finish.

Less time in the lap lane has been good for my shoulder. Today I had an encouraging Guppy workout. I may have even surprised Ironwoman Canada - she remarked a few times that I looked really good in the water. I almost kept up with one of my Guppy swimming heroes, Sharona, during a 50 sprint. Let's just forget the kicking drills for the moment...

Then there is the bike. I am grateful for a good bike year. This weekend's Seagull metric century ride (kudos to the Peddalin' SQ for completing the full century and achieving impressive TNT fundraising efforts) started off with a discouraging downpour (during which, Barracuda BL, the Should Be Sponsored Wife and I sat in the car and debated bagging the ride to shop instead). Alas, we braved the storm clouds and headed off for a fun day. I would love to do the ride in the future on a beautiful sunny day - but still enjoyed the smooth roads and pretty course. The first 17ish miles were casual. The next 23 included some tough pace line work. And after a decadent rest stop (picture: great band, river view, hot dogs, hamburgers, ice cream and apple pie), we completed the last 23 miles battling crazy cross and head winds.

While part of me would like to say I did the mile century, it was great to finish the ride feeling strong - those last 20 miles of a century can be brutal.

Then today, thanks to Columbus, I was able to join the Should Be Sponsored Wife and the RABA folks for Mondays with Mary. Though chilly, I loved the 35 mile route from Powhatan to Cartersville. Scenic foliage, fast flats, tough hills, challenging rollers and smooth roads - it was great. The Should Be Sponsored Wife was donning her new Fuji - which looked marvelous on her! We warmed up with soup and half-sandwiches afterwards - and I drove home feeling content, sleepy and...

happy.

Giant Acorn Olympic - Race Report

Did you ever have a moment of true greatness or absolute failure in a race?

Well, this weekend's Giant Acorn had both for me.

Saturday's weather turned out to be better than expected. While heavy rains woke me the night before, race day started out overcast and warmer than predicted. The clouds were gradually clearing as I drove to the Lake Anna Marina and set up transition. I met a high school friend, whose husband was doing his first Olympic. I caught up with a few Guppies, who impressed me with their detailed preparations. I also ran into two TRIgirls, gearing up for their latest challenges - one preparing with family support for her first Oly tri - and the other giving valuable advice to other racers on the porto-potty line.

Yet, without the posse' I typically train or race with, I was kind of on my own.

A few minutes before the race, I ventured into Lake Anna - the water was a little chilly at first, but warmed up quickly. Calmly, I waited for the purple caps to begin. When the gun for our wave sounded, I saw a bunch of folks take off - and was impressed by the super speedy swimmers. Still not able to push the start, I just tried to settle in - and not fall too far behind. The first turn went well - I was gradually catching up to the lead group and falling into a groove. But after the second turn, I lost my bearings. I couldn't find the buoys - nor a clustered group to follow. When I finally caught sight of a buoy, I realized I was a bit off the course. Overall, though, it felt like a good swim. With volunteers to help pull racers out of the water - I was optimistic for a decent swim time. And though not a PR - my swim was around 31 minutes.

Going into transition, I felt pretty good. I was excited to get on the bike.

And what a bike it was.

With a solid, consistent effort, I finished the first loop close to my dream goal - to finish at a 20 mph pace. Then I settled in for the second loop - which was a little faster - but felt a little easier than the first. I passed many women - and don't recall being passed by any women (other than a little leap frog with one girl near the end that luckily left me at the front of the game) - to end up with a 20.1 mph ride. While I didn't know the exact split at the time, I knew I was close enough to be psyched.

Getting off my bike, I was happy that my legs felt good. The weather had continued to heat up, but didn't seem too bad. I put on my sneakers and headed out. A five minute PR seemed possible if I could have an average run.

Except I didn't. As I posted on Facebook, it was dismal.

Within the first half mile, my heart was racing and I couldn't catch my breath. Which continued for the rest of the run, as I watched so many of the bikers I passed (and others I didn't), whiz by me on the run. Occasionally I wondered if I should have brought my inhaler. I wasn't wheezing heavily, but I wasn't breathing normally. And I am sure my frustration wasn't helping the situation.

I ended up walking a good chunk of the course. More than any race I could recall (percentage wise). Including IMs.

I finished the race at 3:04. A five minute PR had turned into a 5 minute not PR. The slowest run I can remember for a 10K.

And I couldn't figure it out why right away. Going into the porto potties after the race, I could hear that my breathing was a bit wheezy. Driving home, I started sneezing and gradually noticed that my sinuses were clogged. Later in the evening, I was dealing with some impressive green phlegm.

At best, a delayed onset head cold contributed to a very lackluster run.

At worst, I am just continuing to deteriorate in my running capabilities.

So for now, I'm torn between throwing myself into becoming a better runner -

Or just signing up for aqua bikes!

Times Change

When signing up for the Giant Acorn, I figured I'd be psyched for a fall Olympic race after IMUSA - remembering how I felt post IMFL.

Instead, I'm feeling unprepared. IMUSA left me drained vs. charged. Training has taken a backseat to a bunch or work related travel, problems and deadlines. In the midst of which, I decided that the "Big Nut" would need to be about fun. If I woke up and the weather looked bad - or I felt crappy - I'd roll right back over for some more zzzzzs.

As of this morning, the weather forecast included showers for Saturday.

And in my heart - I am just wishing for it to change into an amazing, beautiful fall day.

Because I have a feeling, even if it doesn't...

I won't be able to let myself back out without guilt and disappointment.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Or a few days of it anyway since Lake Placid...

I rode my bike in beautiful settings.

Sometimes fast, sometimes slow.

Sometimes not even thinking about the pace.

Sometimes on flats that seemed effortless.

Sometimes on hills that are still daunting.

Sometimes without a care in the world.

Sometimes thinking about a friend waiting with a flat.

Sometimes planning marina buying schemes.

Sometimes silently with my own thoughts.

Sometimes grossed out by roadkill.

Sometimes in amazement of deer bounding across the road.

Sometimes followed by a decadent brunch, yummy picnic or river chillin'.

Most times with friends who just love to bike.

What a great way to start the fall...

Reflections

Over a month has passed since IMUSA.

The race report took forever to write - unlike Florida's.

And "unlike Florida" is what I've found myself saying many times this past month as I've reflected on IMUSA and IMFL.

Leaving me wondering if IMFL was a fluke.

I loved so much about IMFL. The training, the start, the swim, the weather, most of the bike, most of the run, the crowds, the finish. Other than a few miles on the bike and run - I felt pretty darn great the whole race.

IMUSA, on the other hand, seemed like a struggle from the start.

Like the apprehension before signing up.

Like an injury that affected my spirit and confidence about running maybe more than my physical capabilities.

Like bike rides that helped my hill climbing, but also made me realize how much still needed to improve.

Like the complications from a switch in asthma meds that took weeks to notice.

Like race day challenges, from cramps to broken toes to weird nutrition issues.

Like losing your furkid two days after the race - and knowing your husband bore the brunt of some really tough conversations.

And while there were also many wonderful moments, too - new milestones, awesome coaching, great workout buddies, challenging and fun training camps, stretches on the bike and run course, amazing family and friend sherpas, the beautiful house we stayed in, a great IM gift from my folks...

I've concluded that Florida...

was magical.

But maybe the challenges of Lake Placid were more....

Ironman.

IMUSA - Race Report - The Run

While for both IMs I haven't been able to find volunteers for T1s - I've been lucky enough to have amazing ones for T2s.

We started going through my bag - and I tried to just settle down and prepare for the run. Taking the bike shoe off my left foot was painful. I peeled off my sock and saw it - a very swollen and black toe.

I wasn't exactly stable before noticing this - and hearing the volunteer recommend I go to the medical tent made the tears that I'd been fighting, start to stream down my face. I remembered how Ironboy JW had finished an IM with a broken toe - and how crazy I thought that was.

Knowing that running is my weakest sport, I doubted my ability to complete a marathon with a broken toe - in addition to the weird hydration/nutrition issues that were going on. Having broken toes in the past, I knew there was nothing the medical tent could do. I tried to be grateful for not having broken a big toe. So I changed clothes and tied my sneakers, figuring I'd come this far and was going to continue for as long as I could.

Through the majority of T2, TRIgirl CD was in the tent with me. Even after a tough and painful bike, she was chipper and upbeat though she knew she'd be taking the run easy and walking most of it due to a much more serious injury than a broken toe. We hugged before she headed out - with me following soon after.

I was still a mess for awhile. I stopped at the porto-potty at the first aid station - hmmm, still nothing going on. I tried walking with TRIgirl CD but soon realized her walking pace was faster than I could handle. So I experiemented with run/walk combinations that might work. Early on, I ran into TRIgirl KB (finishing her first loop!) - who convinced me to take a Tylenol.

And after that, surprisingly, things fell into place for the rest of my race. I could jog the downhills and the flats - and walk the uphills to keep my toe from having to deal with the extra bend. While my nutrition was messed up - I forgot to even Gu for the first 4 miles - I took in whatever appealed to me at each aid station. Most of the time that consisted of water, cola and oranges. The sweat continued to pour out of me, even when the temperature cooled off as the sun began to set. I saw many fellow Richmond racers. When the timing worked out, I could spend a few minutes trekking along with some of them - TRIgirls KO, SK, CD, and Coach MB, Others, I'd see in passing during the loops - TRIgirls KB, AM, LM, SS, the Barricudas, Coach BB and TRIboy MR, Some I never saw - like the super speedy boys TVR, MC, AS and GM.

The Richmond cheerleaders had spread themselves across the miles in town. My husband, mom, dad, brother, sister-in-law and house neighbors were at the out and back of the end of each loop - so I was able to see, high five and hug them twice before starting loop two. I can't remember exactly who said what - but remember feeling supported and encouraged. Seeing Ironwoman Canada and the Real Deal on the stretch through town was motivating, too.

The second loop was more of the same, with the addition of some chicken broth. A few times I started to feel light headed - probably from being low on calories - and I tried to take in something at the next aid station to help me get through. I'd given up on Gus, though, so the calories were limited to oranges, gatorade and cola.

During the last six miles, I was relieved and happy that finishing seemed to be possible and I started to relax and smile more. Ironwoman Canada and the Real Deal were waiting on one of the tough climbs back into town - they helped me powerwalk up the hill. Hearing Ironwoman Canada tell me how proud she was of me - and that I was much tougher than she realized (also mentioning that she would remember this for future workouts) gave me the last shot of adrenlin I needed to try to follow her directions to walk the uphill, but push the downhill into the Olympic oval. My husband, family and housemates were once again on the out and back. They are the best sherpas ever.

I swear the last two miles felt like four, but finally I was entering the Olympic oval. The course only really included about half of it, but it was an amazing feeling to be on grounds that have seen some of the best athletes in the world.

I finally crossed the finish line. At 15:03:12.

My husband and family soon found me - and gave all kinds of sweet and wonderful congratulations. They made feel like a winner vs. a backpacker.

I watched some of the Richmond crew finish, squeezed in a massage and headed back home (and finally peed around 11:30). Sitting around our kitchen table, I caught up with the Barricudas and both our sherpa crews, icing my toe.

One of the longest and hardest triathlon days I'd ever experienced was done.

IMUSA - Race Report - The Bike

I found a wetsuit stripper quickly - and did a much better job peeling it off than previous races. The run to the women's tent was fairly long, but gave me time to hear the cheers of sherpa friends and family.

The tent was packed - and I roamed around just trying to find an empty chair, resigning myself to the fact that no volunteers would be available to help me. I tried to change quickly, asking other racers to help pull down my sports bra and shirt (next time I will try TRIgirl CD's suggestion of stepping into them!). My transition time was pretty slow - 11:25.

My bike was in a convenient location to the tent exit - and I was practically at it when a volunteer pulled it off the rack. I jogged it to the start. There was a slight downhill with a u-turn right after the mount line - and I could sense people behind me crazed to jump on their bikes, so I walked it out of way.

Once on my bike, I noticed the weather. A hazy sun was peeking through and it was quite humid. After riding past the haystack turn and through town, I drank some water and Carbo pro - and took two slightly dissolved salt tablets, hoping to ward off any more calf cramps.

Thanks to many practice training rides and drives, I knew the course well. Soon I was on the rude first climb. Remembering to take the first loop easy, I focused on spinning up the hill in an easy gear. Most of the people with me seemed to have heard that advice too, as I only saw a few people slamming the hill. After about 5-6 miles, I was at my favorite part of the course, the newly paved rolling downhills leading to the descent. I flew along this stretch, trying to psych myself for the downhill. Seeing the first "truck low gear" sign, I knew the steep downhill to Keene was starting.

I was really relieved that most bikers seemed to be considerate. I passed many racers - and was also passed by many. Feeling more confident, I took advantage of the "free speed" hitting over 42 miles per hour several times.

The left turn after the descent started my second favorite part of the course, the mostly flat roads to Upper Jay. I spun as fast as I could, feeling good about some more fairly free speed. TRIgirl AM passed me, telling me about the flat she got, losing a half hour as she carried her bike to an aid station. She is one tough and fast girl!

So far, my nutrition was going OK. I was drinking, eating some of a sports bar and jelly beans. No cramps - which was a relief.

Occasionally, I'd notice that the toe from the swim incident was hurting, but the hard soles of my bike shoes seemed to protect it.

Unfortunately, the flat stretch did not last as long as I would have liked. Making the turn toward Wilmington, once again, I geared down low and focused on my "la de da" spinning. At one point, I felt a push on my back, and wondered if I was hallucinating SuperAnnn and JenBo from Richmond, but it was TRIgirl SK, rocking the hills after a tough year of injuries. The Haselton turn around seemed to pop up fairly quickly - probably my third favorite section of the course. I saw many familiar faces cruising along on the out and back, enjoying the rolling hills and shady roads.

After Haselton came the 16ish miles of mostly uphill. My legs felt pretty good on the climbs and I continued spinning. But I did start really feeling the humidity - and was sweating profusely. I began drinking more - so much so that I did my first "grab and go" at the next few aid stations for more water. (I even filled my bottles on my bike).

I thought about breaking another barrier - peeing on my bike. But I didn't have to go. So I drank more and more, finishing the loop - and seeing Skirtboy and his friends on the last little uphill back into town.

My fabulous husband, family, hometown sherpas and Ironwoman Canada were perched right near special needs station. I pulled over waving to everyone between giving the volunteer a run for his money with my indecisive back and forth with my special needs bag. Deciding on a new Carbo pro bottle, small Snickers and half a sandwich, I clipped in to start the second loop.

If only my bike could have ended here...

Hot and thirsty, I forced the PBJ down - and drank more and more liquids. Passing an aid station, I figured I must need to go to the bathroom - though - nothing. Back on my bike, I started to wonder what was going on. I took two more salt tablets and drank some more. My stomach was starting to feel sloshy and bloated, but I was still sweating like a pig.

Hitting the descent the second time, there was a slight headwind, I hit over 40 mph a few times near the beginning, but it wasn't as easy. About halfway down, I saw volunteers standing in the middle of the road. Then I noticed the racer they were redirecting traffic around. He or she did not look good - and it sobered up most of the riders I was with, as we all seemed to finish the downhill a little more conservatively.

I was still feeling pretty good on the flat stretch . I ran into TRIgirls SK and CD and found out they had not only seen the fallen racer, but, in their awesomeness, had also stopped to help him. TRIgirl SK is a nurse - and the injured racer fell right in front of her.

Starting the climbs again, I really started to feel worse and worse. My legs were fine - taking the first loop easy had worked in that department. But my stomach felt woozy. I was constantly thirsty, grabbing water at every aid station, yet still no sign of needing to go to the bathroom. I hadn't taken any more salt tablets, thinking there was too much sodium in my system. I felt like if I ate anything, I would spew. The only things I could get down were SuperAnnn's magic Swedish fish and the Snickers.

My feet were going numb, especially the left one with the hurt toe. When I tried to squeeze my left toes, I would feel a sharp stab of pain. The realization I may have broken it started to sink in.
During the last ten miles, I couldn't wait to get off my bike.

Finally, after a long 7:35 on the dot (which was within the wide range I predicted, so time wise I was OK), I pulled up to the mount line, climbed over my bike and landed on feet stinging with numbness and pain.

I waddled into the transition tent, feeling the worst ever before starting a run.

And this one - was 26.2 hilly miles.

IMUSA - Race Report - The Swim

After over a week of highs and lows, I’m starting to feel focused enough to pull together a race report for IMUSA.

It was a long and tough and - sometimes - amazing - day.

After a few hours of sleep, the Barricudas and I lumbered about in the kitchen, trying to eat. I managed to swallow down a PBJ, half a banana and juice. Carrying a water bottle (which I would later wonder if should have been a Gatorade) and with the hubby and my Dad sherpa-ing my bike and special needs bags, we made our way down to bodymarking. In my delirious stupor, I told the volunteer the wrong age for my calf. My husband quickly noticed, though I figured it didn’t matter since the number was still in the same age group.

Barracuda BN headed off to find his place near the start of the swim, as Barracuda BL and I ran into a few of our Richmond crew for final hugs and encouraging words.

Soon we were in the water- acclimating – and waiting. I tried to position myself in the middle of the middle of the pack. Which should have created a cushion since the super fast swimmers were huddled under the start and more cautious folks were gathered on shore. The canon sounded, and within seconds that cushion was a memory. I remembered the craziness from IMFL and tried to go with it. Before the second buoy, my foot and someone’s something banged together – and a toe started to feel funny. I figured it was stubbed – and plugged on through the maniacs fighting to sight off the cable.

Meanwhile, a downpour hit Mirror Lake. Several times, I was caught behind a wall of men stubbornly trying to plow through me to reach the cable. I did not care about the cable – but I was gradually being pushed onto it. I was amazed that these men would repeatedly hit me – though the water was clear and calm. “Hello – if you are swimming at my pace – you are not going to win – and maybe you should adjust your stroke after slamming my head four times in a row.” The first loop was a struggle and most of the time, I would concede to the aggressive swimmers. My calves cramped up several times. No idea why – as this had never happened to me during a race. But I’d move forward swimming with my foot contracted waiting for them to subside.

The whole first loop was crazy. Exiting onto the beach, I looked for something to drink, thinking Gatorade might help with the cramping, but didn’t see an aid station.

Back in the water, I purposefully tried to move further out from the cable. The crowd had lessened, but I still found myself being pushed onto the cable. I did finally find a pair of steady, consistent feet (not as good as the Real Deal's, but would do) and drafted for awhile, relaxing a bit and finally enjoying the swim.

Rounding the last turn, I ended up behind a man swimming with his feet crossed.

Which is a super hard drill Ironwoman Canada makes us try.

This guy, though, was doing an amazing job – his feet never dropped or moved. I wondered if he was a paraplegic – and felt inspired by the possibility I was witnessing a human interest story about an individual overcoming incredible challenges to complete an Ironman.

The racers jammed up again toward the end of the swim. I was relieved to climb out of the water – and see my swim time of 1:20:32.

Buttercup

Sometimes there are things that can overshadow the highs of an Ironman finish.

Buttercup - In Loving Memory...

Hope you've found Wesley and Shelby - and are chasing soccer balls, finding soft pillows, enjoying head rubs, eating biscuits and "roo rooing" your happiness.

Arriving - With Hope and Magic Candy

The past few days have been busy.

On Monday and Tuesday, I wrapped up things at work and finished a few last minute race preparations. On both days I came home to wonderful little surprises waiting in my mailbox that left me feeling a little verklempt. A beautiful silver and turquoise bracelet from TriDi - inscribed with my 2009 word - "Hope." I've been wearing it since and letting the inspirational message soothe my race nerves. Then, the next day, SuperAnnn left me a wonderful "brick" card - and four types of "magic" candy - to boost my body and spirits on the tougher parts of Sunday's 112 mile Adirondack ride.

Tuesday night, the hubby and I joined the Barricudas for the trek to Placid. We packed the car to the rafters and had a smooth drive, with a stop in Scranton. Their Peloton SUV was nice and comfy for catching up on some sleep, too. Driving into Placid, we were psyched to see that the top rollers before the descent had been repaved - looking smooth and fast!


Wednesday we pulled into our lovely Hawthorne home (the same one we stayed in for Torturefest) around 1:00. Our next door neighbors include great training buddies and sherpas. After unloading the car, we headed to the Cottage for lunch. As our parents were arriving (with food to pack our fridge for the week), the Barricudas and I headed down to to Mirror Lake for a practice loop. The water was chilly, but not miserable. Swimming on the cable was awesome, though I reminded myself after about 10-12 minutes that I would not be able to rely on seeing it on race day, so I practiced sighting on landmarks. I even found a way to get off course on the cable swim - since the cable at the second turn goes in two directions - and - I chose the wrong one! (Real Deal, don't joke about those pink painted feet.) After the swim, I had a short run, shower - and then it was time for dinner at the Boathouse.

Walking back from dinner, my mother shared with the group that she learned our house supposedly had a ghost. Minutes later, we opened the door and walked into the living room noticing that all the furniture has been rearranged. The ghosts has a good time while they visited, leaving behind beer bottles and cheap wine - and even helping themselves to a few cookies.

Thursday started around 9:00 with a ride of the first 15-16 miles of the bike course, including the bastard climb out of town - and the descent. I was a little worried if I'd be able to handle the descent as well using Ironwoman Canada's race tires - but all went great - best downhill I've had here yet and reaching over 38 miles per hour. Blakey Blake and Karen B told me I should shoot for 40 - and if the weather is decent on race day, I am going to give it a shot! Barricuda BL also had a confidence building ride - and we were happy to end the workout with her parents picking us up in Keene. After, the Barricudas went off for a run, while I headed to do another loop of the swim course. The water felt a little chillier, but I stayed on course this time.

The Barricudas and I registered. So now I have my race band on one wrist, with hope on the other. It was fun to see the Barricudas receive their first M-Dot item.

Last night, dinner was at the Whiteface Lodge and Inn. What a gorgeous resort and restaurant! We all had amazing meals and lovely wines (in moderation, sigh). And wouldn't you know, those ghosts decided to visit again, rearranging the living furniture, leaving replacement cookies, having a few drinks, helping with a crossword puzzle - and leaving salt and pepper in interesting places.

Today - no workouts. For some odd reason, my shins feel on the verge of shin splints. We did a little stroll around Ironman Village - and may go for a little tour of the bike course later.

But don't tell the ghosts.

Remembering

With today marking the "one week till race day" milestone, I've been immersed in all things Ironman and Placid, from pre-race gatherings to packing preparations.

I've also been trying to remember how it felt before IMFL. How nervous was I? How prepared? How trained?

And while this season has been almost bipolar in serveral ways, I can see some similarities. Which I hope is a good sign - because, other than a few rough spots here and there, IMFL was incredible.

Oddly, the biggest difference may be "the knowing." The week before IMFL I was winging it on faith in the unknown. I'd never done an Ironman nor been in Panama City, let alone seen the race course.

Going into IMUSA, I know I should be able to do the distance. I've experienced the swim and run loops once - and biked most the course four times - if you include last year's pre-registration ride.

Which seems to have resulted in a mixed blessing. Knowing what to expect brings familiarity - the good and the bad.

Maybe, for now, I need to let my mind forget - and my body remember.

Please? Pretty Please?

Lake Placid 10 Day Forecast:

Shhh..TRIgirl 40 Something is in a Little Denial

More often than not, I've been eerily calm about the quickly approaching IMUSA date.

I am pretty sure it is some kind of denial. At best it is acceptance.

Yep, I've panicked here or there when completing some type of race preparation, like ordering nutrition or scheduling a bike tune-up. The hardest moments have been when someone has asked me if I am ready.

And I sigh or shrug. I can't say I am or am not. I am not thrilled with what that means either way, but I do know I've worked hard, struggling through the most challenging workouts I've ever attempted.

The shoulder is still feeling good. I had an incredible opportunity to swim at Guppy AS's Lake Gaston's paradise - a "not so torturefest" few days with Ironwoman Canada and several great training buddies - helping me to believe I could have a solid swim (for me) at Placid if I can overcome the claustrophobia of 2000 plus swimmers hitting tiny Mirror Lake (and if I could bribe the Real Deal to be a bandit and let me draft of him).

While I wish I had more time to work on climbing, I also know that too many more long mountainous bike rides without a bunch more good fun ones thrown in between might break my spirit.

After beginning to stabilize on new asthma meds, running is on the upswing. It is not anywhere near where it was at its best, but it is a heck of lot better than where it was even a few weeks ago. I could kick myself for not recognizing what was going on and dealing with it sooner, but am grateful that something finally clicked in my stubborn brain.

And in this non denial moment, I've let it register that in exactly a week, I'll be in the Peloton SUV with the Barracudas and the hubby.

But I'm still plugging my ears with my fingers about the following four days after our arrival in Lake Placid.

"la, la, la, la, la, la, la..."

Dreeeaaam, Dream, Dream, Dream...

This week, I had my first IMUSA dream.

And like the few other race dreams I've had, this one bore no resemblance to the actual race.

I grab my bike out of transition and head down roads that look surprisingly like those around the Shady Grove Y. I am riding fairly well, though am not thrilled when I notice the asphalt has turned into cobblestones. During this stretch, there is an aid station, which happens to be a bike store. I jump off my bike and start browsing around the store, noticing very cool race tires. A few training buddies (including a few folks I wish were doing Placid with me) show up. I decide I should probably get back on the course, so I jump on the bike and head further down the cobblestone path. After a half mile, I look down and notice I am not on my bike. I curse and turn around. I drop off the bike and start looking for mine. I can't find it. Panicking, I search some more and decide to go back into the bike store. I ask a few folks if they've seen my bike and no one says they have. I go into a back room and see a pencil drawing of my bike. And then notice a bunch of parts that look familiar. I realize that someone stole my bike and dismantled it.

And then I wake up.

SuperAnnn Was Right

After cheering on the brave and impressive racers who fought a ridiculous James River current at this year’s I Love the Tavern (congrats to all!), Fave, EFEmme and I took off from the race site to squeeze in a few bike miles.

SuperAnnn had warned us about Southside Sunday drivers.

Robius Road, in particular, was full of angry and aggressive folks – sometimes even on sections that had a bike lane.

Which was a shame, because we flew along parts of that road – in both directions.

It was still a great ride – though if I ever dare to do it again, I may need this:

No, No, Counter!

Please don't drop below a calendar month before IMUSA.

My shoulder loves the cortisone shot, making swimming easier and smoother (and maybe on the verge of getting faster).

Hill climbing on the bike is starting to make sense (but I have much to practice).

Running - well it is what it is (an inkling of improvement).

I am just starting to feel stronger and more confident.

I need time. To hope. And believe.

Where is Superman when you need him?