RACE REPORTPART 5: PUTTING THE SWIM BEHIND ME

ok, so this part is about the bike, THE LONGEST PART OF THE DAY, so consider yourself warned. does your wireless work in the bathroom?? you might wanna take the laptop in there with ya, maybe break this down into a few bathroom sessions...settle in folks, cuz y'all know how i like to be thorough....

out into the bike staging area, i run to the Powerbar banner and cut left heading for THE FUCKER. first order of business is to rip off the 2 extra gel flasks of Perpetuem and put them in the back of my jersey. for those of you who've been reading since the beginning, you'll recall that i experimented quite a bit with both sweet and savory flavors mixed into the plain flavored Perpetuem powder. i can't stand all the sweet, syrupy flavors for hours and hours, which means I CANNOT DO GELS, but alas the savory flavors that i liked the best required too much weight to ship in my bike case. i ultimately settled on two sweet flavors that i enjoyed enough and could alternate between flasks for a change in flavor from hour to hour. i brought the Mexican chocolate flavor of Abuelita that i was able to find in single serving hot chocolate powder packets. the second flavor was Chai Latte, also in powder form that i scooped into a small sandwich baggy for shipping in the bike case. it was a great mix between a Mexican hot chocolate drink and my very own Starbucks Chai Latte!! i'd also throw in some Luna Moons to mix up the flavor and consistency a bit more. if i don't, i'll get bored and quickly grow tired of getting in the much needed calories, and that would definitely spell D.I.S.A.S.T.E.R...

running with THE FUCKER now outta transition, i'm still stunned at my swim time, and i can't let it go. hands down my slowest swim EVAH. i'd been doing ocean swims since early March in all sorts of conditions, glassy, choppy, big ass surf AND strong currents. all swims indicated i could expect between a 1:15 and a 1:20 swim. this was the event i had in the bag!!! and i'm not the sort of cyclist who can make up time, rather, i JUST BARELY HOLD MY OWN, so there's no making up 18 MINUTES!!! now i'm running up to the mount line barefoot with my shoes clipped in the pedals, and there's a typical logjam of athletes all across the line and about 3 people deep. this just looks like a cluster fuck that i want no part of, so in my typical fashion, i run several yards past everyone up ahead and onto the bike course to finally mount off to the side. athlete's and spectators always look at me funny like i'm breaking a rule or something by running past them to mount. once again, remember, the mount line is only there to designate that you have to mount PAST IT. there's no rule that says you have to mount within 3 feet past it...

THE BIKE

a'ight!!! THE FUCKER and i are now ONE. i slowly begin my pedal off to the side of the course as i put my feet into my shoes and velcro in. now it's time to keep it aero and spin at 85-90 rpm for 99% of the distance. once again, the laughter starts up. i'm smiling and laughing and just STILL CAN'T BELIEVE I'M DOING THIS!! hell, i'm gonna be here longer than most, the longest segment to my day for sure. who wants to frown that long??

the course is a two loop repeat that goes from the race village in Jurere Beach out onto the highway and towards downtown Florianopolis where we'll hit the 2 hills. at the far end of Downtown, we'll pass the one bridge that connects the island to the mainland. out on this point heading towards the south bay of the island, we'll do the crazy ass zig zag through two highway tunnels, then head back out of Downtown back towards the north bay and onto the 3rd section of the loop heading closer towards our hotel in Canasvieiras. this portion is more rural and while not the part of the course that has the 2 prominent hills, it's a long false flat that moves into an obvious gradual climb. depending on whether the wind picks up, this may be where i'll start to hurt.

down the main drag and over a few speed bumps, then a right turn out onto a small 1/4 mile section of cobblestones before we really head out onto the course. just as we're riding through the cobblestone section, a Team Disney racer comes by and recognizes my LA Tri Club top...

Team Disney guy: "GO LA TRI!!!"

me: " go Team Disney!! DO IT FOR WEDGIE!!!"

he turns around and grabs a glance at me:

TDG: "YOU KNOW WEDGIE??"

me: "who doesn't know Wedgie?? DO IT FOR WEDGIE!!!"

he chuckles and continues on past me.


ok, time to focus on my bike strategy. i've got my computer going and set to only show elapsed time, heart rate, and cadence. NO SPEED. my main focus right now is to watch my heart rate and relax enough into a spin to get it to come down after the excitement of coming outta the water and transition. nothing but water until my heart rate comes down to at least 140. this will be a sign that my stomach has calmed down and is ready to take in and digest calories. before we're off the cobblestones, a man points out that one of my bottles has just launched. wow, ok, that happened a little earlier than i expected. do i turn around a go back for it?? NO.WAY. too many peeps still coming at me on the cobblestones. again, another cluster fuck of a disaster waiting to happen if i turn around here!! i'd planned for this with extra baggies mixed with my Gatorade Endurance and Carbo Pro, and i still had plenty to get me well to the next aid station and beyond. NOPE. KEEP GOING!!!

first onto a short 2-3 mile stretch of rural road heading towards the highway. there are several of us leapfrogging around for position. i pass someone, two minutes later, they pass me, and this continues for a while, but i'm happy to let them all pass as i'm still wanting to spin easy and get my heart rate to come down. i'm careful to observe the drafting rules, as they warned that the referees would be strict. apparently IM Brasil and other foreign races are notorious for racers drafting, so if you're going for a goal like Kona, sometimes you gotta get in the game to hold your own. me though, not so much going for Kona, so i'll try to follow the rules. basically, you have to maintain a distance of 10 meters between your front wheel and the back wheel of riders in front of you. if you're gonna pass someone, you have 20 seconds to do it, and if you're being passed you have to stand down the 20 seconds and allow that person to pass you and reach the 10 meter limit before you can begin another pass. and just for good measure, all along the course, both on the rural roads AND the highway, there were several long strips of painted stripes spaced 10 meters apart. these weren't just for us to gauge our distance to other riders, but also a reference for the refs to quickly assess groups of riders and thereby penalize them with a yellow card if necessary. two yellow cards, and YOU'RE DISQUALIFIED. now i've never intentionally drafted off of someone in a race on the bike portion. i don't even like to train with others in a pace line situation. it just makes me too nervous, but here on race day, it's virtually impossible at some points to not be directly behind somebody just out of naturally being the same pace as them. did i wanna slow down to be out of their draft?? preferably not, especially when there's someone RIGHT ON MY ASS already. think they're gonna slow down behind me too?? not likely. and do i wanna speed up and try to pass this person in front of me?? can i keep up and STAY in front of them?? not likely. listen, man, i just wanna keep my spin going at 85-90 rpm and sit right where i am. this doesn't necessarily make me an intentional drafter...

now we're onto the highway towards downtown Florianopolis. we take the inside lane of the highway as traffic is open in the right lane. i'm spotting the shards of the plastic cones that have already shattered on the course. gotta watch out for these and not catch a flat, so im carefully steering THE FUCKER around the worst of it. heart rate is coming down, and i'm just about 20 minutes into the bike, so it's time to start taking in calories and continue taking them in until i'm done with the distance. i start with the Mexican chocolate flask. the full nutrition strategy is to eat and drink certain fractions of my flasks and drink bottles on the 15's and salt with one Salt Stick cap on the 30's. if it got really warm or humid or i started to cramp, i had extra salt caps and would bump up to two on the 30's. this was enough of an assignment to keep me focused for quite a while, but it was also time to start "THE SOUNDTRACK"...

THE SOUNDTRACK is a list of songs that show up in my big "workout" playlist on the ipod shuffle. in training, i NEVER listen to my ipod on the bike. it's just not safe, EVER, but i do use it quite a lot for the run as well as listen to my favorite triathlon and Portuguese related podcasts while driving or lifting weights or dreadmill running at the gym. on the bike, though, i like to keep myself focused and my cadence up by singing choruses of songs to myself over and over. thing is, there's a gamillion songs on my ipod, and when i'm on the bike, it's difficult to recall them outta thin air. so in the days before the race, i made a much shorter playlist of "The Power Songs," the tried and true songs with the choruses that just keep me going forward no matter what. i listened to it quite a bit during race week to ingrain the few songs i'd need out there into my conscious. i've changed the songs on the cassette player up top to THE SOUNDTRACK, and i'll share snippets of the verses and the choruses here and there throughout the rest of the report:

so we're gonna get this party started with a little Stevie Wonder, a little salsa/merengue/funk inspired ditty titled "Don't You Worry 'Bout A Thing."

Todo 'sta bien chévere...You got that??
Everybody needs a change
A chance to check out the new
But you're the only one to see
The changes you take yourself through

Don't you worry 'bout a thing
Don't you worry 'bout a thing, mama
Cause I'll be standing on the side
When you check it out...Yeah
When you get it off...your trip
Don't you worry 'bout a thing...Yeah
Don't you worry 'bout a thing...Yeah

and sometimes i'm not just singing my soundtrack quietly inside to myself. so i'm pluggin' along, holding aero pretty strong and i hit the first hill on the course. it's not too steep or too long, but when i come down the backside, i let THE FUCKER FLY!!! the roads are still kinda sketchy, with shards of plastic cones everywhere and clumped with crack seal in spots, so i'm letting loose and watching for crap in the road about 4 feet ahead of me. imagine how insane i must look to the others around me as i'm flyin' downhill and wailing my Stevie Wonder lyrics...heading up over the second hill which is a bit longer and steeper, i look down and realize that the metallic pen marks i made to set where my bullhorns go are misaligned and now my aerobars are sloping downwards. i must've not tightened the stem enough when i put THE FUCKER together out of the case. great, this is gonna cause some back pain if i don't fix it. i get to the top and have to pull over to the right, now standing THISCLOSE to the moving traffic in the right hand lane, to pull up on the horns and realign the metallic marks. damn, i hope this holds. i don't wanna have to keep stopping for this...

the course is marked with large, yellow painted icons marking the distance every 10k and 15k or so. luckily, i learned just before the race that 112 miles converts to 180k. you'd think that the number 180 instead of 112 would mess with me mentally, but when the markers come faster and more frequently, there's also a sense of major accomplishment!!! coming into Downtown now, the yellow icon reads "2ok," but first a quick out and back towards the University. there's activity on the streets, but there's really not a whole lotta cheering crowds anywhere. occasionally, i see a few clumps of kids, and it seems as though they're cheering for us, but soon i notice their collection of water bottles and realize they're just yelling out for us to throw ours to them. screw that!! i'm keeping these suckers for souvenirs!!

heading into Downtown now and this is where the road conditions are the smoothest on the entire course, so it's really an opportunity to stay fully aero and spin with no worries. the course is now winding along the Malecón waterfront. there are droves of people all out, but i get the sense they're more so out for their Sunday stroll than to really watch and cheer for anybody in particular. still, they look on with interest. lots of boats in the bay as well. lots to be distracted and inspired by, and still we're racing right along with the Sunday traffic which can get pretty heavy on this little island!!! the police and volunteers are doing a stellar job of keeping us all safe and in line with the cars, and at every aid station, every opportunity to wave and thank them, i do so with a beaming smile.

"MUITO OBRIGADA A TODOS!!!"
(thank you everyone!!)

at the aid stations i'm simply grabbing water to mix my own baggies into as the course offered Gatorade but not the Endurance formula i trained with and relied on for much of my basic sodium. as the bottles need filling, i pull over briefly to do so, but other than that, i'm moving forward the entire time all the while still eating, drinking and salting on schedule. the course feels flat, smooth, and a little more exposed to the wind along the Malecón, so i'm inspired to change up the soundtrack a bit to reflect the hustle and bustle of of the Brasilian Sunday going on all around me. i envision if there were a music video of this moment, the camera would be stationary on a tripod and the edit would be a sped up stop and start of all the racers on bikes, the traffic and traffic lights, the locals, the boats, all reflecting the build up of excitement that's going on inside of me!!! i now move onto the Athens Georgia band, Of Montreal, and a song titled "We Were Born The Mutants Again With Leafling." the beat is a mellow but driving ambient/electro groove that nearly mimics my cadence. there's a cacophony of casio keyboard-like samples of what sound like the bell chorus that used to play at assembly at my junior high, but it's the little sing song voices in between the verses that really keep me going. the title and lyrics, though, make absolutely no sense and perfect sense all at the same time. kinda like us going for the Iron Dream ya know? one second it makes no sense and we question what we're doing out on this course, and in the next instant, the grey clouds part and we continue plodding on with more resolve than ever!!! seriously, peeps, this is the kinda shit i need to think about to keep me distracted and moving forward!!!

No mere limp verse could incite
identity destruction
Our particles are in motion

Sometimes we're not legible
but we're the same strange animal
Let them say our love is peculiar, don't care

There's only now, no ever after
we won't let this end in disaster
You are my twin, no, I will never go there

i'm now coming up on the second distinct section of the course heading past the Hercilio Luz Bridge towards the south bay of the island and the crazy ass maze of turns through the two highway tunnels. it had been explained to me on the course tour, and they even showed a powerpoint presentation with an animation of it at the athlete's meeting , but i was still confused as to how this was all gonna go down. once again though, the course was clearly marked, the volunteers were awesome, and i was making my way through the maze without much incident. this part is kinda fun because you get to pass others coming and going from opposite directions. i take a look at people who are now on the opposite side of the road, clearly behind me on the bike, and i get a new burst of confidence. there's dudes on way slicker rides than THE FUCKER, wearing aero helmets AND sporting disc wheels, and i know they're not on their second lap yet. no matter that soon they would pass me. right now, right at this second, I'M AHEAD OF THEM. all it really meant was that perhaps they're not the strongest swimmers, maybe they even had the unlucky fortune of catching a flat early on, but i'd held them off for more than 40k. right now, right at this second, I'M AHEAD OF THEM. i stop again out on this section to remix some more of my Gatorade Endurance and Carbo Pro, and soon i'm passing the 50k mark on the road and heading back towards Downtown. i start to get distracted with the marker i'd just passed. i start looking at my watch and trying to do the math.

"ok, so i'm roughly over a quarter of the way, and it took me such and such time to get here. so that time multiplied x4, well maybe i can get the bike done in under 7 hours!!! ok, so my swim sucked ass, but now if i can do the bike in under 7 hours, that still gives me just under 6 hours to come outta t2, run the marathon and come in under my goal of between 14:00 and 14:30. still, i have no idea how my run is gonna go, but i think i can pull it off in under 6. i can't remember the last time i ran a marathon in over 6 hours, but then again, i still don't know how i'm gonna feel, and i've never run a marathon after 114.4 miles of swim and bike first..."

back in Downtown, i start to see the lead pack of men coming in the opposite direction. now i'm distracted with looking out for Oli. i wonder where he is and whether he's on pace to his goal of breaking the 10 hour mark, but it's too dangerous to take my eyes off the road for too long. STAY FOCUSED!! next, i check in with THE FUCKER. yes, you read it right, i start talking to my ride...

"FUCKER you are so friggin' awesome!!! i can't believe how smooth you're riding after all we went through to get here. thanks for all the hours of training you've given me. thanks for hanging in today. please, let's just keep going strong, k?? no flats, let's just not get any flats, not today," then the laughing starts up again..."FUCKER, WE'RE REALLY HERE, AND WE'RE REALLY DOING THIS!! WE'RE DOING IRONMAN!!!"

now through Downtown and back up over the hills toward the 3rd section of the loop. i pass the 60k mark and my mind goes back to doing more math...

"ok, so now i'm exactly a 3rd of the way there. such and such time multiplied x3 and I'M DEFINITELY ON TRACK FOR A 7 HOUR BIKE!!! but can i keep this pace?? am i gonna hurt on the next lap?? and still 6 hours, 6 hours to come outta t2, run the marathon and come in under my goal of between 14:00 and 14:30. still, i have no idea how my run is gonna go, but i think i can pull it off in under 6. i can't remember the last time i ran a marathon in over 6 hours, but then again, i still don't know how i'm gonna feel, and i've never run a marathon after 114.4 miles of swim and bike first...STOP!!!! STOP WITH THE CALCULATIONS!! STAY.IN.THE.MOMENT!!"

from here on out, i refuse to do anymore math, barely look at my watch anymore. it's time to simply focus on my cadence, my heart rate, and make sure i'm still getting those calories in as scheduled. so far i haven't missed one feeding. ok, and it's time to get back to THE SOUNDTRACK up over these hills. let's move onto another song, shall we?? next up is a friend from my past, Jill Scott from Philly, with "Golden," a nice 70's funk inspired tune that inspires and brings out the inner afro in me...

I'm takin' my own freedom
Puttin' it in my song
Singin' loud and strong
Groovin' all day long
I'm takin' my freedom
Puttin' it in my stroll
I be high-stepping ya'll
Lettin' the joy unfold
I'm…

Chorus:
Livin' my life like it's golden
Livin' my life like it's golden
Livin' my life like it's golden
Livin' my life like it's golden
Livin' my life like it's golden, golden
(Repeat)

I'm holdin' on to my freedom
Can't take it from me
I was born into it
It comes naturally
I'm strummin' my own freedom
Playin' the God in me
Representin' His glory
Hope He's proud of me!
Yeah!

i'm GOLDEN for sure now, back up over the hills and onto the last leg of the loop. it's a false flat, wind isn't too strong, but this was the one part of the course we cut short on the tour earlier in the week. i just don't know how far this false flat goes before the turnaround, nor am i recognizing any of the people coming back from the turnaround in the other direction. i have no gauge of where i'm at in the pack or when this is gonna end. it's starting to mess with me mentally...

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, HOW FAR DOES THIS GO?? WHERE'S THE FRIGGIN' TURNAROUND? I DON'T RECOGNIZE ANY OF THESE FOOLS COMING BACK. THEY ALL LOOK FAST. I MUST HAVE MILES TO GO!!! THIS SUCKS BALLS..."

ok, the mind is definitely playing tricks on me. STAY.FOCUSED.THIS TO SHALL PASS. NO.FREAKING OUT!!! i've gotta snap outta this. need to pull a doozy outta THE SOUNDTRACK to get me through this rough spot, and i've come up with the perfect answer. this one's by The Flaming Lips, titled "The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song (With All Your Power)", and it does just that. it gives me POWER...

If you could make your own money and then give it to everybody
Would you do it?
If you knew all the answers and could give it to the masses
Would you do it?
No no no no no no are you crazy?
It's a very dangerous thing to do exactly what you want
Because you cannot know yourself or what you'd really do

With all your power
With all your power
With all your power
What would you do?

along this leg, the scenery is more rural and people are out closer to the roads cheering. i get the sense that they think i'm a local Brasileira because they scream a little louder for me than they do for Mighty Whitey (he was French actually) who's just up ahead. i'll take all the local love i can get. it makes me smile again, laugh some more, and yell back..

"MUITO OBRIGADA FLORIPA!!!"

(thank you Floripa!!)

FINALLY!!! i make it to the turnaround. turns out it was only about a 2 mile out and back, but without knowing where i was going, it felt like FOREVER!! and now it's the opposite of the false flat. i take this opportunity to use gravity and mash a little back to the turnoff off the highway. now, it's only about 4k to the halfway mark and special needs. i'm careful to watch out for more orange plastic shards and the HUGE BRICK SIZE REFLECTORS in the road. back over the short cobblestone section and getting closer to transition, the crowds are thick, and people are cheering in a gamillion different languages. on my left i hear a volunteer call out my number on a megaphone. i stop and wait for my special needs bag, but he ushers me along indicating that i still need to go to the end of the block, turnaround, and my bag will be ready on the return coming back in the other direction. DOH!! SUCH EFFICENCY!!! up at the end of the turn, the crowds are going apeshit, and I.AM.A.ROCKSTAR!! they must think i'm Brasileira, i'm certain they do, and then the announcer calls out my name and says i'm from The States, but i correct him...

"MAS, HOJE, SOU BRASILEIRA!! OBRIGADA BRASIL!!!"

(but today, i'm Brasilian!!! thank you Brasil!!)

the crowd goes apeshit again. they've adopted me, and now i'm one of them!!! coming around the bend i see the volunteers holding out several special needs bags, and i've already identified mine with the pink vinyl tape. sure enough, it's another HAWTIE who's got a hold of it. i grab it from him and slowly come to a stop to survey the goodies inside. i immediately go for the potato chips and the Snickers and damn they've never tasted so good!!! he walks with me, grabbing for THE FUCKER and tells me he'll hold my ride for me if i need to use the porta potty. YESSS!! my very own bike valet!!! so i hop into the porta potty, take a quick whizzz, and reapply more chammy butter to the bike shorts. so far no chafing, no fire crotch, but i'm already sittin' on the pot, so why not reapply for good measure?? outta the porta potty now and one last scan of the bag. i grab for more baggies of drink powder but leave the ton of other Luna Moons and Sports Beans in there as i still had a ton left in the bento box that i hadn't even eaten yet.

90K DOWN. I'M HALFWAY THERE!!!

now back out onto the cobblestones for a short jaunt before heading out onto the highway again. i don't wanna launch another bottle here, so i slow down a bit and take this opportunity to check in with myself, see how i'm doin' physically..

stomach?? good.
back?? good.
ass chafe?? nope.
THE SASCROTCH?? holding up. nothing major.
sunburn?? nope.
feet?? cool and dry.
quads?? feeling it, but holding up.
hammies?? same as above.
lips?? could use some bert's beeswax back in t2.

miraculously, i'm still in good shape. could i hold up the whole way? was i gonna slow down on the second loop?? STOP IT!! STOP IT!! STAY.IN.THE.MOMENT.

heading back out for the second loop, i'm now recharged by the crowds. there's an advantage to the 2 loop format of the course, and even if i may start feeling the fatigue setting in, there's no mystery to this second time around. i know which parts are gonna suck more than others, and i know which parts i can rock on. i'm back out onto the highway now, and I SPOT OLI!!! he's flying, and by my calculations, has about 20k to go. at this point, he's well on his way to hitting his goal!!! but shit, he's almost done, and i'm JUST heading out for the second loop.

I.HATE.THAT.GUY.

the pack is definitely thinning now, and i'm not passing anyone anymore. i wanna hit those downhills again. i need to coast a little. i also need to switch up THE SOUNDTRACK. seeing Oli has inspired me to channel a little Brit punk number from Ian Dury titled, "Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll", a sly, Cockney pub-rock anthem that's such a nod to the old me and such the antithesis of the lifestyle i've adopted to get me to today...

Sex and drugs and rock and roll
Sex and drugs and rock and roll
Sex and drugs and rock and roll
Is very good indeed

Every bit of clothing ought to make you pretty
You can cut the clothing, grey is such a pity
I should wear the clothing of Mr. Walter Mitty
See my tailor, he's called Simon, I know it's going to fit

Here's a little piece of advice
You're quite welcome it is free
Don't do nothing that is cut price
You know what that'll make you be
They will try their tricky device
Trap you with the ordinary
Get your teeth into a small slice
The cake of liberty

i've made it back over the hills and back into Downtown now, heading towards the University again. i'm now leapfrogging with a few women i've never seen before. they musta been way behind me and now they've caught up. WTF?? i must be slowing down. WTF?? i feel the sudden urge to challenge and surge past them, but i know what a stupid move that would be. along the Malecón again, and the wind has picked up a little bit. nothing too scary, but i'm definitely feeling a little more resistance. no worries. i just gotta keep my spin going, and that might require a smaller gear. i'm definitely letting these women slip ahead of me now, and it's REALLY MESSING WITH ME...

"i'm slow. i suck, and this whole thing is going south now... stop. stop. STOP.IT. you knew there were gonna be parts that sucked. so you're in one right now. it's not gonna suck forever, so JUST KEEP SPINNING!!! THIS.TOO.SHALL.PASS..."

i'm a little low now. i need some help. i need Jimmy Cliff and "You Can Get It If You Really Want." notice, i've changed up the spelling of the lyrics a bit...

You can get it if you really want
You can get it if you really want
You can get it if you really want
But you must TRI, TRI and TRI TRI and TRI,
you'll succeed at last I know it, listen

Rome was not built in a day
Opposition will come your way
But the hotter the battle you see
It's the sweeter the victory, now

You can get it if you really want - I know it
You can get it if you really want - don't I show it!!!
You can get it if you really want
so don't give up now

Jimmy Cliff is getting me through this. THE FUCKER is getting me through this. I AM GETTING ME THROUGH THIS. the two women are way up ahead and out of view now, and there's nothing i can do about it. gotta race my own race, and right now i'm not racing, I'M JUST SURVIVING. but i AM surviving, and i'm now at the crazy ass tunnels again. they give me a little protection from the wind, and i'm happy for the shelter. it's getting harder and harder to get the calories in, not because my stomach is rejecting anything, but i'm definitely sick of the Perpetuem. i switch it up to Luna Moons for a feeding, and it seems to break up the monotony a little. turning around at the first tunnel and heading towards the second tunnel, i happen upon another Team Disney racer. i recognize this guy now. i've seen him at some of the Wednesday morning ocean swims in Santa Monica and of course at Nautica Malibu where they dominate the entertainment industry challenge every year. it's Nabil, and he's here for the second year in a row, and he says the winds are nothing like last year which makes me feel a little better, but just a little, and then i feel like a total wuss. seriously peeps, I DO NOT LIKE THE WIND, not even a little breeze. i'd just assume ride straight uphill a 100 miles in the big ring only than have to head into any wind. we ride side by side for a little bit which is TOTALLY AGAINST THE RULES, but it's nice to have a conversation out loud for a second and not have to sing songs in my head. Nabil starts to move ahead and i wish him well.

"GO ON NABIL!! DO IT FOR WEDGIE!!"

he laughs and is on his way to the next tunnel turnaround. i'm not far behind him, and we wave now heading in opposite directions. i make the turnaround and head one last time in the opposite direction for home. this is it. i just gotta make it to the furthest turnaround, and then from here on out, i'm pretty much heading home!! just then i come up upon one of the women who'd passed me earlier, and she's throwing a water bottle. she's not in a designated throw away zone, nor does she notice the ref sitting on the motorcycle to the side of the road. OH SNAP. YELLOW CARD. she looks totally bewildered and tries to explain that she was throwing it to the kids, but the ref isn't buyin' it and continues to hold the yellow card in her face. now she's gotta sit and wait there 5 minutes...

"SEE YA. WOULDN'T WANNA BE YA..."

THESE REFS ARE SERIOUS AS A HEART ATTACK!! there's no way i'm throwin' those kids any of my bottles now. almost to the turnaround and i see the other woman who had passed me earlier. i was certain they were both gone for good, but i can see that she's slowing down now too. maybe not enough for me to catch her, but she's not as far ahead as i thought. see how this day can switch up on you??

"WHATEVER, BEYOTCH. I'LL CATCH YOU ON THE RUN FOR SURE."

(hey, it's healthy to have a just a LITTLE competition in your day isn't it?)

i'm at about the 50k mark of the second loop and heading for home. i'm definitely feeling the fatigue, maybe even slowing down a bit, but nothing worse than anything i've ever felt on any of my longest training rides. just gotta get back through Downtown and up over those hills ONE LAST TIME while keeping it spinning comfortably. i need a kick ass fast song right now. even if i'm not going fast in this wind, i need a song that makes me feel fast. i can't believe i haven't called on my boy PRINCE all day!!! nothing does it for me like Prince, and there's no bigger Prince fan than me out here today. i mean, i did faint at his concert and all. it's not one of his hit singles, but a kick-ass number nonetheless. the beat is super syncopated in layers of drums and hand claps that make me wanna dance across a room all crazy like James Brown. it's titled "Tamborine" and in true Prince fashion, it's straight up dirty, but it's makin' me feel like i'm flyin' even though i'm not...

Oh my God here U are
Prettiest thing in life I've ever seen
Close my eyes what's it like,
What's it like inside your tamborine?

Oh my God, there I go
Falling in love with the face in a magazine (uh oh, not again)
All alone by myself
Me and I play my tamborine

Tamborine
Tamborine
Tamborine
Tamborine
Long days, lonely nights
Tamborine
Long days, lonely nights
Tamborine

"ok, here come the hills. come on FUCKER, let's just get this done. slow and steady, i don't care. let's just get this done, k??"

heading up the hills, the traffic is building up in the right lane. car after car all the way up. they look out there windows, some blaring some spicy tunes, some of them waving their hands, an occasional gratuitous honk, but most of them looking at us like we're insane and we're slowing their whole day down. i'm starting to catch up to a group of about 6 guys now. these are grown men with names like "Rodrigo" and "Paulo" and "Gustavo" on their bibs, and i am stuck in a clump with them going up the second hill. i'm tired, i don't wanna push it or mash up this hill, but i can't get out of this clump. we're still against the bumper to bumper traffic in the right lane, so i can't see that a ref is gonna come up on us. fuck it. i'm stayin' put right behind Rodrigo and Paulo and the rest of his hombres can sit on my ass too for all i car. can they really get us for drafting going UPHILL?? almost to the top, and we're now leapfrogging with a public bus in the right lane. there's a bunch of kids sitting in the back and they go NUTS when they see me. i think that they must see this woman who's hangin' in there with all these guys and they think i'm cool. at least that's what i wanna believe. hey, it's helping. they slide the windows open and halfway hang their bodies out the side of the bus to high five me. they start chanting my name. not Rodrigo or Paulo or Gustavo. MY NAME!!!

"MO-NI-CA!!! MO-NI-CA!!! MO-NI-CA!!! MO-NI-CA!!!"

i want my camera so bad right now!! i wanna take their picture. i wanna remember each and every one of their beautiful little faces. they're just clownin' at the back of the bus, but they have no idea what they're doing for me right now. but i don't think the dudes in my pack appreciate it OR ME. on the downhill i start to fly, letting go of the brakes completely and pedaling as fast as i can until there's just nowhere to spin and i'm at about 150 rpm. i'm assuming these guys speak Portuguese, so i make sure that there's no language barrier here...

"ESQUERDO!!! ESCUERDO!!!"
(LEFT!! LEFT!!)

i wait to see if any of the boys will attack, and of course they do. these are LATIN MEN AFTER ALL!!! so i just fall back into the middle of the pack. i slowly begin trying to pass one or two of them, cuz, well, as hot as Rodrigo's ass is, i'm just sick of being behind it, and i'll be damned if i get a yellow card. but the boys are relentless and insist on challenging me at every move. really? cuz from where i'm sittin', it's pretty obvious to me that we're not in the contention for any Kona slots here. are you gonna get an award for beating this one girl?? FOR BULLYING THIS ONE GIRL?? this is stupid. i'm nearly done. i'm almost there, and i still have to run a marathon after this. I.DO.NOT.WANT.TO.BLOW.UP. JUST LET ME OUTTA HERE ALREADY!!!

this definitely evokes a new song from THE SOUNDTRACK. it's all i can do not to fly off the handle and throw something or spit at these macho fucks. really, I'M.THAT.PISSED... a little American Rock classic from Tom Petty from a solo stint without The Heartbreakers, but it still appears on their Greatist Hits Collection. it's titled "I Won't Back Down." it's not even a song that originally appeared on THE SOUNDTRACK, but the beat is mellow, slow, and steady, and the lyrics will help me calm down, help me find my resolve...

Well I won't back down, no I won't back down
You can stand me up at the gates of hell
But I won't back down

Gonna stand my ground, won't be turned around
And I'll keep this world from draggin' me down
Gonna stand my ground and I won't back down

Hey baby, there ain't no easy way out
Hey I will stand my ground
And I won't back down.

Well I know what's right, I got just one life
In a world that keeps on pushin' me around
But I'll stand my ground and I won't back down

we're just a few miles from heading into the last segment of the loop, the false flat. nobody has moved, and i'm right in the middle. suddenly i sense something, a presence, to my right. i can hear the engine of a motorcycle and it's hovering within earshot. i'm afraid to turn my head, afraid to take my eyes off the road when i'm in the middle of the pack. it's so dangerous. but a few more seconds, and the motorcycle has not passed us. it's still hovering.

SHIT.

i quickly look over my shoulder and right into the eyes of the ref through the dark visor of her helmet. yes, i'm pretty certain it was a female ref. i gave her a look to say, "what can i do?? these fucks won't let up!!!" but the look back was something like "you better make a move or you're ass is mine..." and here i was in the middle of the pack looking like the worst offender. so i stand up outta the saddle for a few good mash pedals to ramp up the speed. then i tuck into aero, hold a big gear and pedal as fast as i can to get outta the soup. i'm pedaling for dear life now, and i'm feeling it. this hurts. it feels like a night doing intervals on the trainer at home. these stupid fucks are ruining my day with this macho shit. i fiercely pedal for about 10 more seconds and then look back to see if i'm holding my own, but THERE'S NOBODY THERE!!! SWEET BABY JESUS!!! back in the distance, i can see one lone guy, but then behind him the motorcycle is stopped with the other 4 guys and they're all flailing their arms. OH SNAP. YELLOW CARD. guess, when i took off, the rest of the pack didn't disperse enough. this makes me channel my inner Faye Dunnaway in Mommy Dearest...

"DON'T FUCK WITH ME, FELLAS!! THIS AIN'T MY FIRST TIME AT THE RODEO!!"

now up onto the false flat, and i know i have to spin easy to let my legs recover from "the showdown" but i'm good. really, i'm good. what, maybe 20 more minutes?? a half hour?? 45?? no matter. i just have to spin spin spin and stay the hell away from anymore bullies. must keep feeding. time to switch from the thick pancake batter Perpetuem to all Luna Moons now for easiest digestion. gotta keep salting. keep drinking. don't lose focus now. what song do i wanna bring it in with?? somethin' feel good. somethin' fast?? no, instead i opt for a slower tune that i like to cool down with. it's time to cool down. it's time to calm the heart rate and get ready to be upright again. this one comes by way of England and another super fav of mine, David Bowie. it's titled "Heroes." it's got a slow, driving 4/4 beat i remember well as one of the first easy songs i learned to play on the drums in high school. the guitars and horns are classically layered like an early 50's rock tune. it reminds of something you'd hear during the rolling credits of a killer flick, so it's perfect as the rolling credits to the end of my ride. Bowie starts off kinda low with his voice, but by the end he's screaming and wailing with everything he's got. kinda how i feel now. i'm exhausted, but not too far gone, and i'm gonna scream and wail my way to the end of this bike course with everything i have left. but it's gonna have to be a slow drivin' scream and wail...

I, I will be king
And you, you will be queen
Though nothing will drive them away
We can be Heroes, just for one day
We can be us, just for one day

I, I can remember (I remember)
Standing, by the wall (by the wall)
And the guns, shot above our heads (over our heads)
And we kissed, as though nothing could fall (nothing could fall)
And the shame, was on the other side
Oh we can beat them, for ever and ever
Then we could be Heroes, just for one day

We can be Heroes
We can be Heroes
We can be Heroes
Just for one day
We can be Heroes

coming off the highway now, and i've got enough smile left to flash a sweet shaka for the camera. that's gotta be a good sign right?? really, i think i'm good. i think i've played this smart. just about another mile now, and the hardest part is done. at least i hope it's the hardest part...

i'm coming down the main drag, past the Endurance Sports hospitality house where all the friends and family are parked on the lawn and cheering with everything they can shake, rattle or roll. now it' just about 200 yards and up over a few speed bumps, so i start to sit up a little and take my feet outta my shoes. OH MAN THAT FEELS SO GOOD...

"we did it, FUCKER, we did it...but i'm so afraid to stand up..."

RACE REPORTPART 4: THE DAY I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR

so from here on out, there's not a whole lotta pictures to tell "THE STORY." both Oli and i were racing, and neither of us had friends or family there for support. i felt a little sad about this, but i knew i had a whole team of peeps back home and all around the blogosphere in my corner, and that felt solid. so it's a whole lotta words now with not many pics. hope you can follow along...

race eve was pretty quiet. once the bike and bags are dropped off, there's really not mush else you can obsess about. it's done. now, i just had to lay low, relax and stay off my feet. we went down to dinner in the hotel as soon as it opened. the vibe was a little more intense than previous nights, and since i really hadn't spent much time to get to know many of the people that well, i didn't want to linger long and pick up on any of the anxiety. we went back up to the room, and the last thing i had to do was mix up my Perpetuem and put it in the freezer. we watched a little mindless tv and were off to bed by 8pm. i was amazed at how i was managing to stay so calm. i wasn't necessarily tired at 8pm, but i got in bed with my copy of Going Long and reread the chapter on race day prep and strategy. as i'm starting to read, i hear some noise coming from below my hotel window, just some guys talking and later cheering, but the acoustics make it sound as if they're sitting in my room. here we go again. just my luck. it seems as though i have the misfortune on the eve of races to be plagued with noise outside wherever i'm sleeping. whether it's my annoying neighbors who decide to throw a party the night before i'm to run a marathon or the Nascar dudes next door to us at our hotel for IMAZ, it never fails. i'm always the old hag telling people to pipe down. so i'm still reading, and i get up to take a look outside my balcony. turns out it's OUR SHUTTLE DRIVERS, and they're all listening to the radio broadcast of a fútbol game from outside the window of one shuttle. mind you, these guys have been AWESOME shuttling us from here and there all week. they're totally committed to making our week run as smoothly as possible, but be damned if you try to tell some Brasilians NOT to get excited about their fútbol!!! so i opened the door to my balcony which was enough to get their attention, and they immediately apologized and quieted down. i still felt like a grandma though. lastly, before shutting off the light i reread my LIST/SCREENPLAY. i wanted to meditate on it one last time, wanted to envision a successful race with all its highs and lows as i drifted into slumber.

surprisingly, no tossing and turning. this alarmed me though. why wasn't i worried?? why wasn't i freaking out?? great, here i was freaking out about not freaking out. all week i kept questioning whether i was respecting the distance. i mean, if i wasn't freaking out, i must not be respecting the distance right?? woke up to my alarm at 3:30am. Oli greeted me in the living room with a drowsy, knowing look on his face and a huge race morning hug. we were still half asleep, still trying to get our race morning calories in and get dressed to head down for one of the first shuttles. i had notes everywhere. notes on what no to forget out of the freezer, notes on what i was to eat now for breakfast and what i was to take with me to eat a little bit later, notes on my mental notes. the last thing i told Oli as we were heading down to the shuttle was that i knew he would finish hours before me and that if he'd given it all he planned to give, he'd for sure be heading to Kona. and if by giving it all he had to give, he had nothing left to make it back to the finish line to wait for me, i totally understood. he said no, he'd be there. i left my camera on the table for him in case he had the chance to grab a pic of me going by, but again, no pressure...

there were hardly any hotel guests in the lobby as we waited for the first of the shuttles. come on people?? i know we're on island time here, but Ironman waits for nobody!!! so we made it on the first shuttle with maybe 3 other racers. the 10 minute shuttle ride WAS.QUIET. it was still pitch black as we got off and made our way to the race entry. first up was body marking, and there was Carlos volunteering, our fellow hotel guest who'd broken his wrist earlier that week while out on a training ride. he had a beaming smile on his face!!! despite all he'd gone through, despite being this close to his first Ironman and then getting injured, he was still excited for all of us. what a stand up guy!!!! body marking was the standard affair, both arms, hands, but instead of our legs being marked with our ages, it was marked with a letter code for our age group.

now off to transition where Oli and i split up to head to our rides but agreed we'd meet at the wooden walkway to the swim start by 6:00. i hadn't covered my bike with anything the night before and it was pretty wet. every time i'd dry off the seat, it'd be wet again two minutes later. i had yet more notes for all the setup i had to do. first, attach computer to bike, then bento box, then tubes and co2, then salt stick turbo boosters, 1 gel flask of Perpetuem in the flask holder on the downtube, then tape 2 extra flasks of to top tube, then aero drink bottle to aero bottles, then fill bottle, 3 other bottles in cages with most important calories in seat tube cage, and lastly, rubberband shoes to frame. just as i was getting into the tasks, Oli comes over to check in. he tells me they're letting people have access to their race bags. SUWEEET!!! i'd have a chance to make sure my helmet was there. so i head to the changing tent area. sure enough, helmet is there as promised. except once again, the well-oiled machine does not let me go backwards through the changing tent. nope. i gotta go all the way around to the front entrance. no worries, it's still pitch black out, 45 minutes 'til i need to meet up with Oli. i'm golden, i'm calm, cool and collected. what the hell is wrong with me? why aren't i freaking out yet?? back to THE FUCKER again, everything is set to go. and as scheduled, now i gotta make a trip to the porta potty. but ya know where i gotta go?? right back where i just came from. DOH!! on my way there a guy comes up to me from behind...

"excuse me, but are you the one who just wants the tattoo??"
NO FUCKING WAY. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??

i can't stop laughing. i've been spotted in Brasil. turns out it's Steve. i don't know his last name, but he's also from Team Disney and had been turned onto my blog through Wedgie's. i gotta say, no friends, no family of my own here, but what a huge compliment to come all the way to Brasil and be recognized for my blog. so Steve, if you still read this thing, you made my day, dude. SHOUT OUT TO STEVE FROM TEAM DISNEY!!! we gabbed and gabbed about Wedgie, i told him about my adventures with his teammate Ben in the Sao Paulo airport, we wished each other well, and i laughed my ass off inside to myself all the way to the shitter. got my pre-race dump handled. YESSSS!!! things are looking up. this time though, i decide to stay out of transition and go for a little warm up run, just 5 minutes down the main drag of the run course and back. traffic is now picking up and racers are filing in in droves...

back to transition and it's now time to change into the wetsuit and pack the dry clothes for drop off. i'm looking around for Oli and now i'm confused. was he coming back to my rack in transition or were we still meeting at the wooden walkway?? i thought i could just look around and find him easily, but no luck. suddenly, i'm at a loss. would i find him again before the gun went off or was this it?? oh well, couldn't worry about it now. i change into the wetsuit, put all my dry clothes in the designated bag for drop off, and grab the last of my FRS, the caffeinated Clif Bloks i'd eat just 10 minutes before go time and my Hammer Gel to tuck in my wetsuit leg for the halfway exit out of the swim. as i'm walking out of the changing tent, Oli appears and we make our way to the swim beach. we wanted to get in the water beforehand and try to read the current, but as we head in, they start calling the athletes to begin entering the swim corral. really?? we still have 30 minutes don't we?? we weren't really in long enough to feel for the current, but it felt like it was pulling opposite of how it'd been pulling all week. now we had to rush back around through the spectators to get into the corral and back to the left where we wanted to be staged. you could tell everyone had the same idea as we were all clustered to one side of a huge corral. i had been on the fence about where to start. COACH gave me a few options, and i ultimately decided to start to the front but to the far right. i felt strong enough to hold my own and take a straight line left to the buoy rather than be in front and center or in the thick of it all from the middle of the pack. what was definitely never in the cards for me was to wait at the back. i'm a strong enough swimmer, i don't get freaked by crowds and pushing and shoving, but i didn't wanna be at the front and center where it really gets gnarls. Oli had the same strategy, so we lined up together. he starts to get a little more intense now, starts sizing up the competition around us. the boys are definitely starting to get rowdy. i swear if any of them gets rough, i'm going straight for a blow to the nuts!!! 5 minutes until go time now and the crowd is getting riled up. there's a banner strip separating us from the pros who are lined up onn the other side with just a 10 yard heard start. not a very great advantage i'd say, but i guess with a pack of only 1253 participants, it's not as much of an issue. i see our Endurance Sports Travel host, Ken Glah, helping to accommodate the few athletes with disabilities including our fellow hotel guest, Amy, who's got one amputated leg. there are few other guides/volunteers helping a local Brasilian athlete who appears to be paralyzed from the waste down. it's these athletes who truly inspire me!! we really are lucky to be here and about to do this!! 1 minute to gun time now and still i'm relatively calm. i really just wanna get on with it now!!! i take one final look at Oli and he gives me the biggest hug. we'd been inseparable up until the gun, and it made all the difference for me with any anxiety i may have had. and for this i will be eternally grateful..

"well, honey. this is it!!! by tonight you'll be an Ironman!!!"

THE SWIM

the gun goes off, and it's a frenzy into the water. i look over and see Oli stumble a bit as though he misstepped, but he's now well on his way up ahead of me into the water. heading into the soup, there was no surf to contend with, so it was a series of dolphin dives right into full swim mode. my heart rate was definitely racing just as it is at the start of any race. i'm definitely in the thick of the crowd, but everyone seems to be pretty civil, no more shoving and pushing than a typical race. i start to look for a draft and i think i've found one. now it was time to get focused on my form points.

- entry is wide
- hands go steep and deep
- hips are rotating with every entry
- shoulder above elbow, elbow above wrist, wrist above hand
- keep breaths straight to the side. don't let them turn you on your back
- long distance per stroke
- sight often and adjust for current
- continue to look for draft opportunities
- only swim as fast as your form stays good

all of a sudden, i'm chuckling to myself, and next minute I'M STRAIGHT UP LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY.

holy shit. I'M SWIMMING IN AN IRONMAN RIGHT NOW!!! I'M REALLY HERE!!!

i can't stop smiling, then chuckling and then laughing. this has never happened to me in a race or any other training situation, but i'm gonna roll with it. i'm right on the feet of one guy, but i think i can find someone faster, so i try to get around him. i keep doing this from one person to the next, all the while still laughing and trying to stay focused on my form points. still though, i'm not feeling the crazy claustrophobic feeling that everyone describes with Ironman. for me, no matter what the size of the crowd, i never get the sense of any great mass of people except for the people immediately around me, and they all seemed to be pretty tame. others would later describe this swim as brutal and vicious with tales of being tugged on, shoved and kicked but nope, not here. i struggled more with my fear of the jellyfish. i could feel a few through my hands here and there, but i just kept telling myself that they weren't the stinging kind. still i wasn't seeing any huge swarms of them with my goggles in the water, so that was good.

the swim course was shaped like an "M" where we swam up to the right side to the first point of the M. then we'd swim back in diagonally to shore, exit the water, run about 50 yards on the sand and then back into the water to swim the second portion of the M. the second portion was slightly shorter than the first, so my strategy was to go out slower for the first portion, assess my pace on shore, and then pick it up for the shorter portion. there at the first point sat the biggest buoy that kinda resembled a huge, orange traffic cone. on shore the day before, it appeared as tall as a two story building for sure, and the race directors swore that these would be impossible to miss from the water, but sighting them was still kinda difficult. i guess what was missing were intermediate buoys to help keep us on course. still, i sighted often and felt on course. up to the first point of the M and now over to the left a few hundred yards to a smaller intermediate buoy where we turned left and cut diagonal sighting off of a huge Powerbar hot air balloon that stood on shore. again, no intermediate buoys and the hot air balloon didn't seem as easy to sight as it appeared on land. by this point the pack was thinning out, and it was harder to find the next draft option, so i just sat on one person's feet all the way in. still feeling strong, still feeling comfortable, still swimming with good form, so no complaints. coming closer to shore, i began to hear the announcer and crowds of spectators cheering. i skipped up outta the water and looked down at my watch to assess where i was at.

44 MINUTES AND SOME CHANGE.
SHIT

this was slower than i expected even considering that the first portion was longer than the second. i stopped to grab the Hammer Gel outta the leg of my wetsuit, suck as much of it down and wash it down with the water they had on shore. just then, outta nowhere, i hear a manic loud voice yelling at me. it was Ken Glah himself, running up to the barricade and nearly knocking it over, face all crazed and voice already sounding horse...

GO MON-I-CAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

Ken Glah, race director and owner of Endurance Sports, in charge of over 500 racers and family members traveling from all over the world. i met him briefly for a minute in our hotel lobby, maybe had a two minute conversation with him, and somehow in the midst of all the race frenzy, all that neoprene, he ran up to cheer for me. ME!!! i can't tell you what a boost it was. i definitely felt a jumpstart to the second, shorter leg of the swim. i dolphined back in with a new energy. no more laughing now, there was work to be done. back to focusing on my form points and trying to sight on the buoy ahead, WAY AHEAD.

about halfway to the next buoy, people began to scatter in all directions on the course. some were still holding a straight line to the buoy, while others were drifting far right across my path, and i fell somewhere in the middle. i kept trying to concentrate on swimming hard left but to no avail. i could tell i was drifting further and further right of the buoy, yet still there were droves and droves of swimmers further right than me. by the time i came upon the distance off shore where i should be turning at the buoy, i was a good 200 yards to the right of it.

200 YARDS!!!

now turning left and trying to get back in the pack, i was swimming straight into the current. if you couldn't keep up with it, you just drifted further and further off course. i was giving it everything i had and barely making my way any closer...

FOR FUCK SAKE!! WHO KEEPS MOVING THE FRIGGIN' BUOY???!!!

it was surreal really as there was no other indication of how strong the current was. it was eerily flat, no chop, no wind even, just a killer current from below. i wasn't panicked so much as just pissed off that this was what my swim was coming to. here i was in the one event that was a no brainer, and I WAS CHOKING. now came the last left turn before heading to shore, and i was faced with a critical decision. i was still looking for a draft to get back in, but by now EVERYONE was drifting so far off course and now heading back towards the halfway Powerbar balloon!! should i follow the crowd and catch a draft but be WAY OFF COURSE or should i keep heading forward on my own in the right direction towards the swim exit?? you'd think you'd know what the obvious answer was, but this current was STUPID STRONG. in the end, i couldn't bring myself to knowingly follow the majority crowd heading in the wrong direction, so i continued towards the swim exit but now felt TOTALLY alone out there. occasionally, i'd sight around or even take a breath and look behind me. i could spot the handful of people who'd made the same decision i did. i mean THE FEW people, like 10 people. you could feel the sense of uncertainty in our decision. WE WERE ALONE OUT THERE, but i just kept on going, kept trying to focus on my form points and putting everything in my catch to move that water under me, everything in my catch to get just a few yards closer to shore. as we got closer the lifeguards scrambled to rein us all in through the final chute of smaller buoys onto shore. when my feet finally hit the sand i was so friggin' relieved. here was the event i had expected i'd be sad to see end. i've never been so happy to be outta the water EVAH.

goal swim time: 1:15-1:20
actual swim time: 1:38:17

1:38:17!!!
WTF????

heading up onto shore and towards the changing tent, i could see the droves of people still so off course coming outta the water and having to run 2 football fields to make it back to the actual swim exit. i was still second guessing my decision to stay on course. for sure i could've run up the beach faster than i could swim against that current, but what could i do now? the most prominent theme to the whole day was something COACH told me to remember no matter what:

ONCE THE EVENT IS DONE, IT'S DONE. PUT IT BEHIND YOU AND MOVE ON...

back up onto land, i peeled my wetsuit as low as i could. we came upon the wetsuit strippers, and i found myself distressed at which stripper to go to. THEY WERE ALL HAWT!!! so i just sat down in front of one of them staring in his eyes intently. with one full swoop, he rips that sucker off of me..

THANK YOU. THAT WAS SO HOT. WE CAN DO THAT AGAIN LATER WITH OTHER CLOTHES IF YOU WANT...

but i digress. i gotta get into transition and get my bike on. once again, let me state how terribly organized and efficient this race was. again, i found myself paired up with my very own volunteer who was holding my bag with the pink vinyl tape hanging from it. she walked with me into the women's changing room as i dumped EVERYTHING out of the bag. she brought me water, and offered to apply sunscreen although i politely declined (i'm sensitive to a lot of brands). quick change outta my Under Armour lycra shorts and into my bike shorts. applied MASS AMOUNTS of chammy butter, then headband, helmet, sunglasses, no socks, no gloves. the volunteer put everything back in the bag including my wetsuit, and I.WAS.OUT.

T1 time: 5:55

no goal on transition times other than to make sure i came out of the tent at some point...

RACE REPORTPART3: PRE-RACE THIS 'N THAT

listen up, people. this is important shit
next up was the athletes' meeting. if i hadn't stated it already, let me say right now how incredibly organized this race was. i can't compare it to any other Ironman, but it was certainly more organized than many halves i've done in The States, perhaps because of the international profile, something like 43 countries i think. the athlete's meeting was offered in 4 different languages throughout the day and for several days before race day. for anyone who's never done an Ironman, and actually for anyone who has, i would recommend that you NOT MISS THE MEETING. you may THINK you know everything there is to know about the race, but it never hurts to review it one last time live and in person. for one, there may be last minute changes, and those would be announced at the meeting. the special needs bags may not be exactly halfway on the course where you expect. this is all up to the race directors at each individual race, and it's best that you know where it's going to be so you can plan to carry more or less with you until you expect to reach that point of the day. also, the cutoff times may be different than the standard Mdot times that we've all read about. at Brasil, the swim cutoff is 2:40 only because so many people would come out within just a minute or two and they felt the need to push it back by 10 minutes. they boasted how nobody has ever not made the swim cutoff at IM Brasil. i was expecting to swim between a 1:15 and a 1:20, so i didn't think that was gonna be a concern for me. at each race, there may be additional cutoffs within the 3 events. i recall from sitting in on the IMAZ athletes' meeting that if you hadn't made it to the far end of the 3rd loop on the bike, you could not even proceed back to t2. same thing for the run. Brasil didn't have any of this as it was a 2 loop bike and a 3 loop run. you simply had to make it all the way back to transition in the time alloted. also different from IMAZ where participants had two shots at their run special needs, as they passed it twice, we would only have access to our run special needs bag after the first and longer half marathon length loop of the run even though we would pass special needs again. this was something to consider. i had planned to put a long sleeve tech tee in my run special needs bag, but it would still be warm and light out when i passed special needs the first time, so what was the point? there was NO WAY i was gonna wrap it around my waste for a few more hours in case i needed it. that woulda just driven me crazy. at saturday's bike and bag drop off, the bike was to have nothing on it except for shoes attached to pedals if we opted to, and we would have no access to bags on race morning. ok, this was good to know. how was i supposed to store my extra bottle of Perpetuem that were supposed to go in my bike jersey if they needed to be refrigerated over night and i couldn't drop them in my bike bag in the morning?? change of plans. i now had to tape the extra two that were going in my jersey onto the bike frame on race morning and then rip them off and put them in my jersey pocket as i hopped on the bike. SO YOU SEE?????? all this stuff was made clear at the athlete's meeting, but most importantly, we learned that the Kona roll down was monday at 9am SHARP. last year, both the male and female winners were stuck in traffic and their slots went first. THEY BOTH LOST THEM. lesson learned, Ironman waits for nobody. Oliver turned to me and gave me a look so serious that i could only have one response:

"WE'LL SET 3 ALARMS."

then back to the room with all the bags of crap. i couldn't deal with them just then. i had two more days anyhow. now, it was time to ride THE FUCKER and do a final mechanical check including changing out to new tubes and brand new race tires and give the tread a bit of wear. yeah, cuz putting on new tires is SO FUN AND EASY!!! i had waited until now because my race tire was wearing unevenly in ONE SPOT due to the rim on my race wheel expanding and the brake catching in the same ONE SPOT which caused a BLOWOUT (more on that later) just a week before on a downhill during a training ride.

this time, Oli and i headed out separately to do our own checks and ride at our own intensity. i wanted to be so careful after what had happened to our fellow hotel guest, Carlos. i kept it mellow heading out to the more rural section of town where the roads were really smooth. everything felt good, and i was easily holding 18-19 mph on the flats as i passed scores of other riders and groups of riders all doing the same, but i knew i had to test the cassette on a hill, THE MOTHER SHITTER HILLS, so i headed back towards the center of town. heading up i felt nervous as i started up the first and least steep of the two hills. there was a serious crew of pro looking dudes running up the other side. they were nearly running faster than i could actually mash up on the two wheeler, and the last thing i wanted to do was UNCLIP in front of them. here i was, all the way in Brasil and still worrying about what other people were thinking!! JAYSUS!!! but sure enough, i barely beat 'em to the top. still about 150 yards up was the shorter but way steeper hill. i mashed and mashed and can't recall my cadence dropping to like 3 EVAH before, but i'll be damned if THE FUCKER and i didn't crest to the top with everything we had like it was L'Alpe D'Huez or somethin'...

YESSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!

back to the hotel where i promptly went to inquire what mechanic Fernando's favorite beer was, and i went and bought him a six pack. that guy resurrected my FUCKER!!!

next day was a free day as our scheduled beach tour of the other side of the island was canceled due to not enough sign ups. we took it as a relief. i was becoming anxious about all THE BAGS and wanted to focus on those and THE LIST/SCREENPLAY. so instead of our beach tour, i went for my last 5 mile run, this time over the same mother shitter hills i would encounter on race day. i kept a nice clip and then forced myself to walk the steepest portions both uphill and down. right after, i got to squeeze in a pre-race "massage" just before we headed to the athlete's pasta dinner that evening. i use the word "massage" very loosely because it was, well, LOOSE. i had met the couple who were doing the massage therapy a few days prior, and i got the husband. i suppose it was somewhat my fault too because i took every opportunity to practice my Portuguese wherever i could, but maybe i shoulda kept it zipped on the table. i yapped and yapped as we discussed politics (they all LOVE OBAMA in Brasil!!!), culture, family, you name it. all the while he was kinda just grabbing at my skin and giving it a bit of a pinch, not even really getting deep enough to the muscles, and at one point i even got what i refer to as the "Jack Lalanne Chop Down" except it wasn't down my back as you would expect but instead DOWN THE FRONT OF MY THIGHS!!! WTF???? man that is not a good look for '08. nobody wants to see that shit wiggle. who's to say if it didn't do something. i suppose if i'd gotten the massage i'm used to just two days before Ironman, i'd be in a heap o' pain, so i'll just chalk it up as a $45 Portuguese lesson with extra wiggle.

next up, THE ATHLETE'S DINNER!!!

pick your flag...


let's EAT!!!
as we all began to trickle into the indoor arena where they staged the athlete's dinner, it became very clear how different this experience was going to be from a North American Ironman experience. it was similar to my experience traveling to Switzerland to compete at Worlds which was like the mini Olympics for triathlon. 43 countries represented here in Brasil. 43 COUNTRIES!!! who knew there were so many people in this world who love this crazy sport??? at my table alone sat a Brit (Oli), a gentleman from Venezuela, and a Brasilian man from Sao Paulo with his wife and son. all but Oli were doing their first Ironman. coolest part was that i spoke all their languages!! i could communicate with each one of them!!!


CARB UP!!
the food was the best we'd had up to this point. pastas galore, plenty of grilled chicken for protein, breads, and a whole boat of fruit so we could steal bananas for back at the hotel!!!!


LEAVE NO CARB BEHIND!!
this was really the last opportunity to pack in the big calories and carbs, and up until then, i'd been eating pretty Paleo and light, so these carbs were sure to stick!!! oh my god, i was SO.FULL. but not to fear. as much as i wanted to stumble out of there in a sweet food coma, there was DANCIN' TO BE DONE!!!


GET UR SAMBA ON!!!!
next up, were the Samba/Batucada performers!!! oh man, this was a sight to see. first, the Samba troop of percussionists trailed like a snake through the room calling our asses out of our chairs and gettin' us movin' to the rhythm!!! this rhythm was infectious, and the frenzy grew within the crowd!!


shake it don't break it...
next came the dancers from all corners of the room, and it wasn't just a show for the men. these women had it goin' on, and again, this country just has a way of celebrating the human body that isn't about degrading women or unleashing a repressed sexual taboo of some sort. we danced and danced, and the Samba troop lifted to a crescendo of one song that the entire room knew the words to. i wished i knew what they were singing about, but i knew that whatever it was, it was all good. what a way to celebrate, what a way to call the spirits up and inspire us for what was to come in 2 days!!!

back to our hotel for a good night's sleep. this was the night to get that good sleep as typically, Saturday night is all about tossing and turning and wondering if you still may have forgotten something. i woke up Saturday with a little more intensity. we got up and headed down to the swim start to hopefully get a swim in with the race buoys out, but alas, they were still on the beach, so we headed out in a different direction than we had before, towards this point at the end of the beach. i saw a few jellyfish here and there, but nothing too menacing, so we kept going around the point. i kept up with Oli pretty well, and it was kinda nice to be pulled a little bit, but neither of us were interested in pushing it at all on the eve of the race. we stopped before we headed back and looked up on land to discover this beautiful fortress overlooking the cove. there were what appeared to be tourists walking along the paths of the perimeters. had we not swam this way, we'd have never known about the fort. you couldn't see it from the expo village or the main beach, so we promised that after the race we'd figure out how to get to it. i wanted to get back to the room, as i still had the bags to do and then get to bike drop off.


so many bags, so little time...
again, i gotta say, don't even go into Ironman week without having your bags figured out ahead of time to some extent. and even though i did have my plan all written out, and all i had to do was fill them with what i said i wanted in each one, i still stood in front of them empty like this all stunned for about an hour. now imagine if i hadn't had a plan already?? if i didn't know what was going in each one and had to figure it out on the fly?? OH.HELL.NO. as i filled the bags, i started to visualize the race, a successful race filled with highs and lows and how i would push through the rough patches. i listened to my inspirational playlist on the ipod filled with inspiring songs i planned to sing over and over to myself all through race day. so finally, i came up with this...


i will want for nothing!!!
this, ladies and gents, is a friggin' buffet of everything i could ever want for on race day. food, sunscreen, more food, more sunscreen, chammy butters, powder drink mixes with more calories, more chammy butters, suprise sugary and caffeine treats, extra dry socks, extra co2 and tubes, extra extra etxra!!!

this part of the day was where Oli and i became a little more quiet, a little more insulated in our own plans and routines. his plan was to eat his last big meal no later than 1:00. then after that it was no more fiber and his last light meal by no later than 4:30-5:00. after that, and for breakfast the next morning, it was ALL LIQUID with Ensure. he was bummed that dinner wasn't opening at the hotel 'til 5:30, but he just rolled with it. me, i wasn't so concerned with the fiber or eating so early, and the next morning i'd be having an early breakfast of oatmeal that would have time to digest and later a banana, a croissant with jelly, and Gatorade Endurance. this guy's goal was to not have to stop and shit and go sub 10 hours. my goal was to eat enough calories to get through my first Ironman without bonking. there was no way i was gonna go all day without a shit...


Oli's last ritual meal...


"the legs" get one last shave...
next was bag and bike drop off. and even after all the printed instructions, the meetings, all the lists, all the prep, i still nearly made one big mistake. you're supposed to bring your "swim" bag empty to bag drop off. i thought we were supposed to drop it off on race morning with the "dry clothes" bag, but no, we were supposed to drop it off empty with all the other bags besides the dry clothes bag. DOH!!! luckily, the shuttle hadn't come yet, and i had time to run back up and grab it. i also pumped the tires up +10 psi from where i ultimately wanted them which would be perfect by race morning after siting Saturday in a little bit of warmth. i'd check them again the next morning, but if they felt firm to the touch, i'd leave them alone.


lining up for bag and bike drop off
again, i gotta say this was one well-oiled machine when it came to organization and communication at bike drop off. for some weird reason though, they made us wear our helmets through the entire process?? we were first sent to bike mechanical check. i don't know if i liked the idea of THE FUCKER being handled by another woman in this fashion, but what was i gonna say...


um, why are you touching my ride like that??


Oli and the aero-helmet militia


welcome to transition!!!

next, we were greeted by this cheery group, each one of whom spoke like 7 different languages. one would be paired up with each participant and personally escort them to their bike rack...


final farewell
... and here we are. me (helmet on like a dork) and THE FUCKER one last time before we do THE FULL MONTY (i look fat though. WTF???) the racks were like nothing i'd ever seen before. these wooden contraptions that snugly held the back wheel...


sweet dreams 'LIL FUCKER... tomorrow, WE RIDE!!!!
the instructions were that we were not to leave anything overnight on the bikes except for shoes if we opted to have them clipped on. i still saw a bunch of full setups with drinks mixed and everything, but i left THE FUCKER as instructed. tomorrow morning, i'd attach the bento box, my computer,the salt stick turbo boosters, co2 cartridges and tubes, all drink bottles and rubberband my shoes in place. i surveyed the aisles and where i'd be running out of the changing tent from and identified this marker along the corridor of transition to mark where i would turn...


look for Powerbar and cut left

next, off to drop off our bags. one last bonus from Oli was the pink vinyl tape he brought. we added it to the straps of each bag so that when there were a bunch of volunteers holding out a bunch of the same colored bags, we'd easily be able to identify ours from the others. they let us watch as they hung our bags on the racks and then we walked out the back of the tent through the changing areas.





let's not dilly dally in here tomorrow, k?

and there you have it. all set to go. except people were looking at me funny, and just then i caught up with another woman from my hotel who kindly pointed out that i still had my helmet on. DOH!!!! i tried to go back through but the well-oiled machine wasn't having it. i was told by one scruffy old security guard that i would have to go all the way back to the line at the front of transition which was now much longer. just then i found a volunteer who had better access. she said she'd put it in my bike bag for me. oh man, what a thing to obsess about all night. did the helmet make it?? would it be there tomorrow?? i had to just trust that it would...

i guess this is it now. no turning back...

SORRY FOR THE DELAY, KIDS

my race report has sadly stalled due to the Lakers being in the NBA Championship finals and the fact that i've pretty much been under the weather since i got home a week ago. i thought i had it beat, but it came back with a vengeance today while on a shoot. i have presented with a mild fever and aches. can't really say if it's related to my travels or the fact that my immune system becomes particularly depleted after a big race. considering this was THE BIGGEST RACE OF MY LIFE (note, i didn't say hardest race), i'm not too surprised by my symptoms. it could be a combo of both factors. i found someone to sub for me for tomorrow's shoot and plan to sit right here on the couch the entire day. if the symptoms get worse, i'll definitely be heading to the doc. all that to say, sit tight, i'll be back. hopefully tomorrow i can knock out a good portion of the report for y'all to enjoy. right now, i'm tired and achy and the Lakers just beat the Celtics, so i expect to sleep relatively well tonight after a good dose of something with the letters "PM" in the product name.

RACE REPORTPART 2: BEING THERE...

the view from my hotel room balcony

my first full day in Brasil, i let my body dictate when to get up which ended up being about 8am which was 4am back at home. i'd slept so much on the previous day's flights and then went to bed as soon as i got into the hotel that i honestly had no idea what time zone i was on. as i hadn't arrived to the hotel until well after dark, i was pleasantly surprised to wake up to our partial ocean view!!! just off the coast sat an island that Oli and i promised we'd swim to before the trip was over. went down and had my first Hotel Lexus breakfast that wasn't half bad. there was enough fresh fruit and protein in the form of scrambled eggs and sausage for me to stick to Paleo style eating while also ramping up the carbs for the race with the pasta options at dinner time. afterwards, Oli was off for a run and i headed up to put THE FUCKER together for our first ride around town.

after him being "not really lost", you'd think i would have inspected him as soon as i got the case at the airport, but i was exhausted. i should have suspected something when the outer green strap was just loose next to the case when he came off the last plane. upon opening the case the next morning, i quickly discovered that somewhere along the way, and from the damage i suspect somewhere early along the way, some disgruntled TSA employee undid ALL BUT TWO of the velcro and readjusting zip ties holding THE FUCKER and all three wheels tightly in place where they would not bounce around or scratch each other. so basically everything just tousled around in there all loose for over how many thousands of miles?? i don't even wanna think about it. i had also folded in and wrapped the rear derailleur with a t-shirt and taped it to the chainstay to keep it from knocking around or hitting the back of the case. um, yeah, the t-shirt was on the bottom of the case too. then i noticed the scratches, NO GAUGES, to THE FUCKER'S frame. this is heart breaking, people. all the good riding he's given me, and he gets all scratched up, like DOWN TO THE METAL IN PLACES, before we even get to race day. good thing he's silver, but i'm considering sending him to Cervelo for a touch up, and if they can't help me, i'm taking him apart and taking his frame to my buddy's body shop, getting him stripped and getting him a new stupid-cool paint job. oh, and my rear race wheel?? the all carbon one?? yeah, it's chipped. flakes of carbon where the 3 spokes meet. i figured it would be fine for the race, but now i'll have to look into whether they can do some sort of resurfacing to it. once i recovered from that devastation, i got out my tools to put everything together. first, cassette on wheel, wheels on frame, pedals, bottle cage. then i noticed that the pulleys were slightly askew and the gears were slipping a bit. and this, my friends. is just the first example of why it rocks to travel with Ken Glah and his company, Endurace Sports Travel. in addition to our awesome view, shuttles to everywhere we needed to go, breakfast and dinner buffets AND massage therapists all included in the price we paid, there were also on-site mechanics available to us in our hotel. first i wanted to ride and survey the damage and then check in at the mechanics room...


Oli's clownin'

now i've written about Oli, aka "the legs" here before. basically, the guy is a machine, but come to find out he's a machine who likes to keep it light, doesn't take himself or any of the Ironman hoopla too seriously. when we first started talking about the possibility of rooming together in Brasil back in November, i envisioned that we'd room together but that would be about it. the guy was giving it a shot at qualifying for Kona, HIS SECOND TRIP TO KONA. i was giving it a shot at just doing my first one and finishing under 17 hours. i assumed he'd be pretty intense, that i'd have to tread lightly, be pretty quiet, keep to myself, and that we'd have totally separate agendas. that's kinda how i roll anyway. in general, i don't travel very well with others, but i know him well enough from the tri club and also from working together on shoots (he's a set designer) that we'd, as Oli would put it, "get on fine." and take your minds outta the gutter, ladies, he didn't say GET IT ON, and we actually had a two bedroom apartment.

there were plenty of other fast guys that were heading out for a ride that morning from our hotel. you know the ones with all the latest all carbon gear, the aero everything, and the team kits?? i suggested to Oli that he join them. i didn't want him to get bored or feel anxious riding with the slowpoke that i am, but he said no way. he didn't wanna get caught up in a "macho ride", didn't wanna risk doing something stupid. he'd rather ride with me and keep it mellow while we dialed in our bikes. i just had to ride 30 miles, so we'd be out there for about 2 hours finding our way around town. didn't bring my camera for this ride, but it was gorgeous. slightly warm and humid, but race day called for a cooling trend. we passed huge Miami Scarface looking mansions along the final stretch of the run, went into smaller sleepy beach town neighborhoods and even past some more rural highway sections with thick jungle flora and cows tied to trees along the shoulder to graze. as we headed back to the hotel taking the run course route, we hit the MOTHER SHITTER HILLS. Hillary Biscay had warned me about them in the lobby the night before. they're short, but treacherously steep, like i dunno what grade, allegedly 25%, but stupid steep nonetheless, and of course Oli flew up them. this is where the travel damage became most apparent, and THE FUCKER'S gears just started slipping and grinding. for fear i'd break my chain, i unclipped FOR THE FIRST TIME EVAH and walked a few yards until the grade mellowed out again, then clipped back in to get to the top. back at the hotel, my savior, bike mechanic Fernando, surveyed the damage and was able to realign the derailleur and the check all the gears. he showed me with the crazy 5th grade compass looking tool just how bent it was. everybody in the hotel swore by these guys. one woman said she's had a problem for MONTHS that her LBS couldn't figure out and she took it to these guys, and in sign language (they only spoke Portuguese), was able to get them to fix the problem. they were top notch, and i definitely owed them some beers. oh, and the fast guys who took off from the hotel before us??? turns out, one of the "macho" riders ate shit on a street reflector and broke his wrist. this was supposed to be his first Ironman, and now he'd be volunteering as a body marker on race day....

from then on, we pretty much stuck together until the gun went off. I think Oli liked having an interpreter, and in turn, he kept me laughing for days which had everything to do with me keeping calm before that gun went off. the expo wouldn't open for packet pick up until the next day, but there were plenty of activities put on by Endurance Sports including a bus tour of the entire course which was INVALUABLE...


Ken Glah gives us the lowdown on the swim course.


Jurere Beach, the swim start


and a play by play of the bike and run course

Ken himself has raced IM Brasil as well as ton of foreign races, been to Kona a billion times. he's also part owner of the race, so he was able to give us a ton of insight into the course and all its little nuances. for instance, the swim, while free from surf or much chop, can have a helluva current which he would go out and survey himself on race morning and let us know which way it was pulling, and the two legs of the m-shaped course are not the same distance. the second one is shorter, so pace yourselves on the first one. he pointed out the two hills on the bike course and where the surfaces were the worst and where they were pristine. most importantly, the roads were open to traffic in one lane while another lane would be marked off for us, the inside lane of the highway. they used several thousand road cones to do this, but the cones aren't a soft rubber as we have in the states. rather, they're a hard plastic, and they shatter upon impact, so we should watch out for the shards as people have flatted from them in past years. then there was a tunnel section to the bike course. if i didn't know about this part, i'da been totally lost even though it was ultimately marked so well that you couldn't have gone wrong, but to have it explained ahead of time was priceless. there were two tunnels. we would go in the left tunnel from the inside lane then turn around to the right and come back the inside lane of the tunnel on the right, then turn around again and come back through the same tunnel on the outside land, and then turn around AGAIN and come back through the first tunnel on the outside lane. and since it was a two loop course, we would follow that crazy ass maze TWICE. here's a little diagram...

if you're not cross-eyed by now, well then you're sharper than me. i know i know. it all looks very simple here, but in a foreign country where you barely speak the language and you're looking at potentially 17 hours of continuous movement of some kind or another, it's shit like this that messes with your head.


local fisherman bring in their last net

back at our hotel that night we just chilled and took in the local vibe, watching these fisherman cast out and then bring in their nets, eating dinner and getting to know the other Hotel Lexus guests. there were several pros staying amongst us, and the hotel was small, so it really felt like a family. i spoke with Hillary Biscay quite a bit in the lobby and at meals as she coaches a friend of mine. Olaf Sabatschus was also staying there. he's won IM Brasil twice, recovered from testicular cancer AND had just won IM China just two weeks prior. also amongst us was Czech phenom, Petr Vabrousek. remember that island up top i said Oli and i wanted to swim to at one point? ONE POINT. yeah, Petr and Hillary swam to it EVERY MORNING. and it's like a 6k roundtrip. it was surreal to be amongst these great athletes, and i was shocked at how nice and accessible they were to us measly age groupers!! i mean, for the most part, triathletes are mad cool peeps, but the same as i expected with Oli going for Kona, the pros should be more intense, more insulated, less chatty and social. but again, lesson learned: if the pros can stay mellow and calm, so should i.

the next day was packet pick up. i got up early and went for a 5 mile run before breakfast. it was so pleasant to just have one measly little workout to do every day in between our other activities. the stress of life, work and figuring out how to squeeze in training was now gone. i felt an overwhelming sense of calm, and i needed to keep it going until the gun went off. when i woke up that morning, i was definitely feeling the tickle in the throat from my body reacting to new and foreign bacteria in the foods, but i had been keeping up with a regimen of acidophilus (the good bacteria) before i left and was ramping it up now that i was here in combo with echinacea. it was gonna take another day or two for the acidophilus to kick in and overcome the new bacteria. wasn't really worried about it.

Oli and i headed out together but split up by the time we hit the end of the main road in Canasvieiras. it was great to be sticking together so much, but come on dude, you know you don't wanna run 10 minute miles with me!!! he headed back towards the hotel and the hills on the run course, and i headed out away from the main drag of hotels on what looked enough like a main road that had a decent shoulder. it was a weekday, a work day, but it's low season for this sleepy beach town as May is their fall going into winter. the car traffic was light, and i passed a few road workers, a few bike commuters and a few people waiting for the early morning buses, but for the most part, it was just the sound of my footsteps and the cricket like sounds coming from the jungle flora. there's nothing better than seeing a new place on foot!!! no sense of distance, so i just went 25 minutes out and then tried to pick it up a bit for a negative split back to the hotel.

back at the room, Oli was starting to build up what we referred to as "command central", taping up maps, race week schedules, shopping lists and other race reminders to the wall just above where THE FUCKER stood.


a loaf of bread, a gallon of milk, a pound of butter....
THEN IT WAS OFF TO THE EXPO!!!! it was about a 10 minute shuttle ride to the expo, and Oli warned me that we should just go down there to pick up our packets, get the schwag shopping out of the way and then never go back there until bike drop off and race day cuz it just gets crazy and frenzied, and it would only make me more anxious. i definitely agreed with this plan...


all this for me??

...and he was SO RIGHT. there were so many things to get distracted by. i kept stopping every 10 yards to take a pic of me in front of some crazy attraction. this one in particular goes out to my girls, Kim and Kona Shelley...


i'm in Brasil Beyotches!!!

really, i had to stop EVERYWHERE!!!

Oli's turn!!!


ok, NOW MY TURN!!!

i think i was trying to put off the inevitable. i didn't wanna go into the packet pick up tent. i knew that's where i'd start to freak, but once we were done there, we could head to the beach for a swim and then just relax until the athletes meeting. a'ight, let's get this over with...


are you really who you say you are? i.d. please...


mine's the WHITE bag, yeah, uh huh, that one...


i guess THIS makes it OFFICIAL

there were SO MANY BRACELETS to wear. the first came from Iron Maiden Cindy that her students made for me before i left. next was the bracelet from Endurance Sports Travel that identified us for meals, shuttles, etc. and the honkin' bright red one was THE ATHLETE'S bracelet to be worn for access into transition, the athlete's meeting, pre-race dinner, post-race awards lunch and the AFTER PARTY. later i would learn that there were MORE BRACELETS... DOH!!!


sizin' up the swim...

we had a few hours to kill before the athlete's meeting so we went for a swim at the race start. i'd heard about the jelly fish and one blogger out there who got stung by one just before her race here a few years ago. so far, i had seen little bits of them on the beach, but no whole ones at any of my short swims in front of the hotel. one guy at our hotel said he'd seen big ones and swiped 'em with his hand but that he didn't see any tentacles on them and that they probably wouldn't sting. funny, in all my years of growing up at the beach, surfing and swimming for tri, i've never encountered jelly fish that i can think of. friends of mine have encountered swarms of them back home in SoCal and even been stung, but me, nope never. i really didn't wanna have my first encounter here...

i had forgotten my swim cap, goggles AND earplugs, so Oli and i had to take turns going in while the other one watched our crap. unlike NAS races, the sponsored swim with kayaks here did not provide for a bag check or any designated area to leave our crap. the buoys weren't the official race ones. they were randomly spaced and way further than race distance, so i just sighted off of one and went for it. just about there and i started to feel weird masses tapping at my hands and feet, but with my goggles in the water, i didn't actually see a jellyfish and certainly not a swarm of them. come on, monica, you freak out less when you see a tiny shark back at home. time to HTFU and just swim. heading back though, i ran head into another swimmer!!! DOH!!! but he was HAWT and with 3 other hawties. we both apoligized and laughed. i got to speak some Portuguese. he wished me well and said he'd look out for me on race day. mmmmmm hmmmmmmmm....

while Oli went out for his swim i actually changed into A BIKINI!!! i cannot recall when i last wore this thing. definitely not much during training months if ever. i did my best to bury my race bags and look like a local taking in the sun. of course my bikini bottoms were a dead give away that i in fact was nothing but a poser tourist. everyone, EVERY LADY OF EVERY SIZE wore far less fabric on the derrieres. it wasn't so much the butt floss i'd expected to see, but a sort of in between. you gotta love a country where the ass, any ass including my wide load, is celebrated and flaunted (more on that later). but every 5 minutes someone else from the hotel would walk past and say something. they were all just passing through to survey the swim start and looked at me like i was crazy for wasting my time laying on the beach. was i really wasting my time?? was i not respecting the distance?? i'd gotten in all my workouts that COACH had planned for me this race week. i was following my race week diet, getting to bed early, waking earlier and earlier every morning. what was wrong with a little r&r??? whatever, dude. that's how i roll. i'm gonna relax as best i can and try not to obsess about this thang. i'm sure you're freaking out enough for all of us. plus, next up was the athlete's meeting. i'd have plenty to freak out about then...

RACE REPORTPART 1: GETTING THERE...

all this has to get in the case and weight less than 70 pounds
when you go as far as Brasil to do an Ironman, the race report is going to include a bit on how you got there.

i had a day to pack and be ready to leave by 5am the next morning for my 8am flight first to Miami. my final workout earlier that morning went south, REALLY SOUTH, to the point where i found myself and THE FUCKER at 3pm at Helen's Bike Shop begging Matt the mechanic to help me out. my extra tube had loosened and fallen INTO my cassette. although, i thought i'd cleaned it all out and started to ride again, turns out the rubber had ground all the way INTO the rear hub thereby jamming up the freewheel AND completely bending the derailleur. translation: i could ride fine, but if i coasted AT ALL, my chain would slip. at first Matt had a look of fear and dread on his face saying, "um, i don't know if i can fix this today.."

no no no no no no no. I'M LEAVING FOR IRONMAN IN LESS THAN 24 HOURS. IRONMAN BRAZIL!!!! the sorta good news what that at least this wasn't my race wheel, although i had intended to bring my regular wheel as a back up, but upon further inspection, Matt found the rubber in the hub, cleaned it all out spent another 20 minutes realigning my derailleur and checking all my gears. all that, AND he refused to charge me. MATT, YOU FRIGGIN' ROCK!!!

now back home, i knew i was behind in my schedule to pack. i'd accepted that if i was going to make it, i pretty much wasn't going to sleep before leaving for the airport. i still had to pack all the crap you see in the pic above and make sure it was under 70 pounds, so i weighed everything independently on my bathroom scale. i think i was close, who knows. then pack the suitcase which also had to be below 50 pounds. hmmm, 2 weeks of travel clothes AND all my race wear?? um, yeah, not so much. and just because i'm THAT paranoid, i carried all my race wear including my wetsuit and helmet with me in my carry-on. considering what was to come, i shoulda figured out how to get THE FUCKER in the seat next to me on the plane....


PRESTO!!!

i finished packing with just enough time to shower and head for the airport. i was trembling in the car, hyperventilating. my heart rate was through the roof!!! what the hell was wrong with me?? this was it i guess. no turning back now. now in the terminal and all the strange looks from people watching me lug this rolling coffin around. there was my roomy Oli way ahead in the line. i figured they would probably frown if i tried to pretend that we were checking in together, so i stood my place at the back, but the line wasn't moving AT ALL. so i made my way to the self check-in and played dumb that i had a bike case to check. finally to the front of the new line, and the woman is confused with the bike. i'm insisting that the bike is supposed to be no charge as long as it's one of my two pieces of luggage. that's what they told me on the phone, and that's a provision that the travel agent explained would be a special note on our ticket. no note, and even though they allow for bike cases as luggage, this was considered "oversized." WTF?? by bike do they mean a friggin' folding one??? so she's telling me it's gonna be $200. NO FUCKING WAY. i get on the cell with Oli who's just down the way in the terminal and i can see that he's having "issues" too. he tells me they're charging him $85. WTF AGAIN?? who comes up with this random shit?? so i tell him to send the manager down to me. she's a no nonsense black lady...

NNBL: "you doin' this bike thang too??"

me: "well it's a triathlon, but yeah, and she's telling me it's gonna be $200 but you just charged my friend $85??"

NNBL: "i know i know, he got a bike, you got a bike and y'all thank it's free, but gas ain't cheap fa nobody and they just changed the rules, but i'm gonna give y'all a deal" and she turns to the woman writing up my ticket "girrrrrrrl, we gonna have a lotta these bikes comin' through here all week, so let's just scoot 'em on out without any arguin'. 85 bucks, that's it."

then the computer jams up in the middle of printing out my ticket, and the lady tells me i'm running outta time for the luggage cutoff. i need to RUN with my suitcase to baggage screen area #2 and then SPRINT to screen area #3 for "oversized" stuff with THE FUCKER. a nice baggage handler guy comes to help me scoot along, and we get to dropping off the case. he yells out to the the screeners..

"this needs to make the 8:20 to Miami!!! CAN YOU SWING IT??"

i don't hear a word from around the corner. i'm not feeling confident, but i reluctantly hand THE FUCKER over, tip the guy 5 bucks and head to meet Oli at our gate.

Oli was knackered, hungover from three days prior!!! he said he'd had a "bit of a night out" (how very British of him) and now felt a bit fluish. what kinda training is this for a Kona contender??? finally on the first plane to Miami without much incident.

landed in Miami and that's where Oli and i would split up until we got to Sao Paulo. he booked his ticket separately from mine and had a different middle flight. his was leaving Miami and hour sooner than my flight. mine was only leaving me an hour and a half to meet up again for our final connecting flight to Floripa. i was nervous about this, and prayed that customs wouldn't tie me up too long. i've heard stories about the long-ass lines at customs in Sao Paulo. we passed another guy in the terminal carrying what i like to call the TYR "kitchen sink" transition bag, same as mine. we give the knowing "you're a triathlete too" nod. turns out he's wearin' a Team Disney hat. i ask if he knows Wedgie. of course he does!!! who doesn't know Wedgie!!! turns out we're on the next flight together in a few hours so we decide to navigate through the airport together to find food and make our way to the next terminal. first though, we gotta stop off and pick up THE FUCKER and re-check him on the next flight. yeah, don't ask. i guess with the "deal" i got from no nonsense lady, he wasn't gettin' checked all the way to Florianopolis...

so we're at the baggage claim, and we're chatting it up, talkin' about training and our teams, and soon i realize that the belt isn't moving anymore, and there's nobody from our flight left there, and nothing's come out of the "oversized" door.

SHIT.FUCK.SHIT.FUCK. SHIT.FUCK.FUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!

so off to the lost luggage claim desk. note to self: stay calm, stay cool, don't point fingers. you piss this guy off and with one click of the keyboard, THE FUCKER GOES TO TIMBUKTU. next to me some woman is FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. i look at my claims guy and laugh..

me: "boy, you must see all kinds of folks here. this has got to be the worst gig with everybody pissed off at you."

nothing from claims guy as he continues to click away on the keyboard. then i notice that he's got a name tag and he's obviously Latino, probably Cuban...

me: "¿de donde eres??" (where are you from)

claims guy: "de Cuba"

YESSS!!!!

me: "¿de quel parte?" (where in Cuba?)

claims guy: "de Matanzas"

me: "¡aaah, si! donde vives, Elian," (oh yeah, where Elian Gonzales lives)

claims guy: " ¿estas Cubana?"

me: "no, pero fui a Cuba en el año dos mil" (no, but i went to Cuba in 2000)

now depending on his politics i'm either in or he'll now send THE FUCKER to Timbuktu for sure, but it looks like it's working. he tells me it's really not lost, that i must have just missed the luggage cutoff in L.A. (what a waste of a 5 buck tip!!!). i just need to give him the hotel address and it should be delivered there about the same time i was supposed to arrive but a day later. no problem, that's why i'm getting there 5 days early, and Iron Mom Jenny had warned me that bikes would not make it along with their owners but that they work really hard to get them to you within a day. COACH had a bike on the training schedule for the next morning, but i'd just have to improvise. good thing there's still two other sports to do. but i digress. there's still two more flights to get through too....

off to Sao Paulo. 8 hours i think?? it's a super wide plan and i'm in the middle section but the flight's not full, so i end up getting an extra seat next to me to stretch out in. more people are speaking Portuguese now, and i'm trying to practice with anyone around me, but they all wanna speak English!!! the coolest part was the individual tv screen that played several different films in English with Portuguese subtitles. this is an awesome way to learn another language!!! then it's sleep time, everyone's mellowing out, and i start to hear sniffles and coughs ALL AROUND ME. oh.hell.no. time to ramp up the Emergen-C. i am not goin' out like that!!! land in Sao Paulo and we breeze through customs, no problem. i meet up with Ben and we head to the next gate, but they tell us we need to get a new boarding pass, not the one's American printed us since we're on TAM now. get to the terminal counter and the guy asks us where our luggage is. um DUH!!! it's already checked through to Floripa, our final destination. now don't get me wrong, i'm not that naive of a traveler. miss thang in L.A. said my bag was checked all the way to Floripa. i even asked her 3 times,"but what about customs when i land in Sao Paulo?? don't i have to pick them up there and go through customs??" no because you see customs is all handled here and they go all the way through. i didn't think this sounded right, but Ben said he was told the same thing. so now we have 20 minutes to go back, get our bags which may or may not still be there, if not we have to find the lost luggage office, then take them through customs and get on our last flight. i start BOOKING IT through the terminal, and Ben is hot on my trail. then things start to go screwy. i'm trying to find my bags in Portuguese. funny how when you're in crisis, all of a sudden you're fluent in a foreign language. we start running through back hall mazes, back and forth through the terminal. finally i turn back and Ben is nowhere behind me now. he's given up. he knows we're not going to make it, and he chooses to save his legs for race day. me, not so much. still running and sweating and stinking to high heaven. i tell Ben that if he keeps up with me, i promise we'll audition for The Amazing Race as the Ironman Team. but alas, i give up too and about an hour later we finally locate our bags. in the end, they bring the bags out, and we never have to walk through customs with them. go figure...


rack 'em up!! i mean, deal 'em!!
so we've missed our flight. 6 hours 'til the next one. thank god i dug Ben AND he had a deck of cards!!! we eat, we play cards, we eat more, and then i spot another triathlete. it musta been the 3 water bottles he had sticking outta all the pockets on his transition bag he was lugging. turns out it's Ben's roomy, Michael. he's shocked as shit to see us since he expected Ben to already be checked into the hotel, but nope, we were all on the same flight.


Michael and Ben and me make THREE!!!
waiting in the terminal, we meet Bertrand and Martine, a French couple who now live in New Jersey. they've done several Ironman races between them. Martine has done Brasil before, and she's excited to be back. when she finds out we're all here to do our first, she gets all excited and wells up with tears when she talks about how we're going to feel at the finish line. just then, i look out on the tarmac and low and behold, look what's sittin' on the cargo truck...

me: "THE FUCKER!!! he made it!!!"

Martinne: "excuse me, dear??"

me: "oh i'm sorry. i mean my bike made it. it was lost earlier today or yesterday or whenever. i don't really know what day it is anymore."

Martine looks at me a little awkwardly as if to say "now you, i'm not so sure about anymore..."

and now we're on our 3rd and FINAL flight. should be just over an hour now until we touch down on Florianopolis, also known as the "Magic Island."


the mother ship has landed!!!

reunited and it feels so good!!!
final touchdown. I AM HERE. THE FUCKER is here and we're all psyched to see this poster hanging in the airport.


look Ma!! we made it!!!
and so went the endurance event before the endurance event. our Endurance Sports Travel shuttles were there to pick us up, and i said my goodbyes to the boys, Bertrand and Martine as they were all staying in a different hotel. an hour later i was hugging Oli in our less than swanky 2 bedroom apartment style accommodations. i guess he freaked a little when i didn't make our flight and didn't know my status 'til he got to the hotel. i had lost most of my first day, but luckily Oli had already surveyed where the market was and where the bars were for post-race festivities. we planned that we'd sleep in until our bodies naturally wanted to wake up, and then try to go out for a ride and get the lay of the land.

going to sleep, i finally felt a sense of calm for the first time in 32 hours. this is it i guess. no turning back now...

RACE REPORTTHE PROLOGUE

so the way i see it, i have until IM CDA to finish this race report. huh, that's only 18 days away. i better get crackin'. y'all know how my race reports can go!! the internet access in the Amazon was spotty, nor did i want to waste one second on the computer for fear of missing some bug, animal or storm sighting or a chance to speak Portuguese with someone. so here i am, back home in HELL-A, and still processing it all. i came back to everything i left: a dirty house, two filthy dogs, mounds of laundry and piles of mail. i haven't gotten out of my pj's since i got in them after washing away the last of the Amazon from my body two nights ago. it feels beyond lazy but beyond necessary to lounge around. i'm not really ready to talk to people yet either. maybe that's why i did this whole Ironman thang, so my occasional social retardation and self-imposed isolation could be confused with drive and focus for one single goal. i had everyone fooled real good, but what now?? alas tomorrow night is our LA Tri Club monthly first thursday social. 2 for 1 margaritas oughta bring me outta my daze!!! i came back to 300+ entries on the google reader, and i intend to catch up ON EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. i'd fallen behind before i even left. that last peak/taper phase and finalizing my travel plans just put me over the edge. it got to the point where i just wouldn't answer my cell phone because i couldn't allow someone to eat even 15 minutes of my time. in fact, i doubt many of you IM CDA peeps will read this right away, and i totally understand. work got hectic in the end as well, and it's promising to pick up now that i'm back which is a good thing since i still have to pay off my whole trip!!! i don't know what to do with myself now that i have hours and hours free from workouts, however, i'm still committed to joining our last Iron Maiden Cindy in her final training weeks before IM Germany. gotta see my girl through!!! my next race, the Strawberry Fields Oly, isn't 'til a month from now. i'm going to follow the most unstructured plan for this one. train when i feel like it, although i suspect i'll feel like it a lot. ok, ok, i'm babbling. let's get on with this. for fear of overloading your computers, i'm gonna break this down into a few posts as i go. trust me, it'll be better for all of us. and again, i don't really care what your opinion is on the matter. it's my blog for me to remember how it all went down, so just hold on...

FIRST POST-RACE WORKOUTS IN THE AMAZON

upon arriving in Manaus, the capitol of Amizonas, Brasil, i left THE FUCKER behind at our driver, Kaydinho's apartment where his daughter is living and going to medical school. wow, leaving my ride behind at a perfect stranger's house in a foreign city wasn't as hard as i thought it would be. needless to say, there's been no cycling in the amazon...

swimming, well swimming has consisted of aimlessly floating around in the pools under the waterfalls and rapids of the Rio Urubu in the Presidente Figuereira region. i also rode one rapid in an innertube and walked under a waterfall cave at another. the water looks like a dirty brown but it's actually quite clear. the color actually comes from the acidity of the leaves from the trees and other flora that border the river and fill the Amazon region. it kinda looks like a dark amber ale. i'm reminded of the candy pool in willy wonka and the chocolate factory. i'm swimmin' in beer, people!!!! it's warm and inviting, and i've been doing this all in a bikini despite the looks of horror from the locals at my insane cycling shorts tan lines.

after getting in at 3am from dancing all night long at a party for a local band, i was surprised at not having a hangover at all this morning, so i decided to pull out the running shoes and actually make an attempt at a 30 minute run. it's insanely humid here today, and most of the town was still asleep from being at the same party. i headed out from my host family's house and made my way to the main promenade that runs through the town here in Itacoatiara. it's a really cute tree-lined walkway they call "the tunnel of trees" that sits in between the two-way traffic of mostly mopeds and bicycles. as i ran i got a few funny looks, a few head cranks from the guys. i could just imagine what the response would be if i had ridden THE FUCKER through town!!!

no heart rate, no time, and my hydration of choice is an actual Brasilian version of Gatorade that's flovored with acai and guarana!!! i felt pretty sluggish in the heat and humidity, but it was nice to be running again. i've had my share of beer here. apparently the lack of hangover comes from the antioxidants found in the varioius local brews. hmmmmmmm????

i've eaten all the local delicacies, piranha soup, fresh pod-like fruits i can't even pronounce straight from the trees, and roadside snacks that would make that obnoxious guy on the discovery channel cringe. it's all been incredible and nothing's killed me yet!!! i've seen a pink dolphin, a sloth, 2 baby alligators, various monkey species, vultures, toucans and a gang of fish ALL IN THE WILD.

and the people, OH THE PEOPLE HERE!!! so many different faces, so many colors of skin. and they've all adopted me. i'm passing for a Brasileira for the most part and everyone seems to understand my attempt at Portuguese. my host family, Pepper and Joana and their two daughters, Sienna and Jillian, are just incredible and have opened their home to me. as is our driver, Kaydinho, and his wife, Ediuma. they especially adopted me last night, speaking Portuguese with me when our table pretty much stuck to Eniglish and teaching me the local style of dance called FoHo. it's a little like Urban Cowboy meets Dirty Dancing. Oy!! and our boat guides on the Amazon, Prieto and Dougie showed us the time of our lives yesterday. i will hold these people deep in my heart forever.

today we've just been lazing arond the compound here. Pep and Jo and their extended family of grandparents, aunts, and cousins have made a huge feast centered around a dish called foijoada (sp?), a base of black beans with various meats, sausage and potato. the music has been blaring all day as we eat, drink, play futbol, dance and laugh our way through a torrential downpour of a sunday. the rain has stopped now, and we'll sit and enjoy the sobremesa (dessert) of pudgin (pudding or flan) that VoVo (grandma) made from scratch.

tonight, i'll sadly pack my things and be ready to leave with Kaydinho at 7am tomorrow morning for the 2 hour drive back to Manaus. we'll pick up THE FUCKER and then tothe airport where it's back on a plane to Miami and then home to HELL-A.

this trip has been amazing, a trip of a lifetime. Ironman wasn't even the half of it. i promise though, a full race report once i've settled back in.

NO WORDS

i'm gonna keep this short. i have a celebration party to go to.

I AM AN IRONMAN

awesome day

SURREAL DAY

Oli raced his first sub 10:00

9:52 got him 3rd place in his age group

AND A SLOT TO KONA

13:47:37 gets you all a shit ton of t-shirts!!!

i though about ALL OF YOU out there.

race report soon.

xoxo,
-m.

THE PLAN

hey y'all. hotmail hasn't worked since my first day here, so i haven't been able to receive any of your emails or comments, but i'm feelin' you all out there for sure!!! oh, and i think i got an extra day on the countdown sice it didn't compute leap year. YAY FOR LEAP YEAR!!!!

i'm having the time of my life so far. i'm keeping a journal and will hopefully post my "day to day" sometime after i'm back if anyone even cares, but i'm trying to keep the internet time down to a minimum. it's just criminal to be sitting in front of the computer with all this beauty that surrounds me.

yesterday, Oli and i hit up the expo the first day it opened for packet pick up. funny, i expected to be more anxious once i received all those friggin' bags and wristbands, but i'm staying quite calm so far. and i thought rooming with a Kona contender would require me to keep quiet and to myself and that we'd have very separate agendas. turns out, Oli's quite the card, and he continues to crack me up on a minute by minute basis!!! i think that has everything to do with me keeping my cool. plus, i think he likes having his own personal interpreter as he has managed to obliterate the Portuguese language at every opportunity!!

after packet pick up, we hit up the expo. luckily it wasn't too overwhelming with shit i wanted to buy. the official race gear is actually quite sparse. of course all the women's sized stuff is fucking pink (sorry MoMo!!!), so i passed on that, and the one cool men's long-sleeved tech tee in size small was still a tent on me. so i got outta there with one bike jersey, a hat and some stickers. after the spend fest, we headed to the swim area for race day and went for our respective dips. unlike other races where there's a bag valet in if you want to go for a swim and leave all your crap, there wasn't a hint of such a thing on the beach. just locals sun bathing and walking the shore. so we went in separately to keep an eye on our stuff. oh, and because i forgot my goggles, swim cap, and earplugs, so i had to borrow Oliver's stuff. DOH!!! as i headed in first, i realzed that this was my first swim in the Atlantic!!! i don't think i swam in Miami when i was there at fall time many many years ago. it was beautiful. its warm, super clean, a little more salty than i'm used to, and very calm in this particular bay. it's kind of like Hawaii here on the island of Santa Catarina. this side, the west shore, has virtually no surf, and the east shore is where all the legendary surf and the Brazilian pros like Niko Paderatz all come from, just like the North Shore of Oahu. so no surf on race day, but we can expect some possible chop and a good current. when we went out the other day just for a dip in front of the hotel, we got pulled down pretty far in just the few minutes we were in. so on race day, i'll have to go in early, be sure to float for a few, see where it's pulling and then compensate with where i start and what i aim fr and sight off of.

tonight i'll pack all the bags and drop them off with my bike tomorrow afternoon to the transition area. i think this is where i'll start to lose it. but to help, i wrote up a plan, THE PLAN, THE SCREENPLAY if you will. i've been kinda meditating in it every night before i go to bed. thouht i'd share it with you to help y'all start thinking your plans out. there's just so many bags and variables ya know!!! and the broser i'm using doesn't show all the blogger editing features, so i hope it's not too crazy to read. even formatted, it's pretty gnarls. but hey, it's ironman. oh, and this isn't open to comments on how you would change it up. you go do what you wanna do, i'm stickin' to my plan!!! so ok, so here goes. after this probably no more posting.....

LOVE YOU GUYS.

IM BRASIL RACE PLAN

RACE EVE
mix up various perpetuem flavors and pre-freeze in fridge

RACE MORNING

BRING IN SWIM BAG FOR BIKE
__ bento box
__ salt sticks (tape)
__ computer
__ co2
__ tubes
__ perpetuem flasks (1) goes in flask holder, (2) get taped to frame and put in jersey pocket at bike start
__ 2 carbo pro/gatorade baggies go in bento box
__ 2 luna moons go in bento box
__ large bottle of plain water
__ small bottle mixed with FRS for 20 minutes before start
__ bottles (3+ aero drink w/ straw and scrubber stopper)
__ bring 3 bottles pre mixed with carbo pro/gatorade. bring extra baggy of drink mix. poor pre-mixed into aero bottle once it's mounted. then use water to mix up empty bottle with drink mix

DROP OFF BAGS - put dry race morning clothes in "GENERAL" bag, "SWIM" bag empty, and "RUN" bag
FOR SWIM

__ sunscreen to face
__ bodyglide neck
__ sportshield neck
__ HRM - watch & chest strap
__ under armour bottoms
__ champion cycle bra
__ tri top
__ goggles (2 pair)
__ ear plugs
__ swim cap
__ full wetsuit
__ 1 hammer gel for swim exit and re-entry

SWIM STRATEGY

__ start outside especially if current is pulling as strong as it was in front of hotel. compensate sighting for current
__ stay calm after mass start. get in groove and let heart rate come down
__ continue to check in on key form points
__ hip rotation
__ long dps
__ wider arm entry
__ hand entry steep & deep
__ shoulder above elbow, elbow above wrist, wrist above hand
__ watch left hand i particular that it doesn't drop or go across body on the breathing strokes
__ breaths straight to the side. just one eye out of the water. don't let breaths turn you on your back. BE THE ALLIGATOR!!!
__ continue to look for the draft opportunity but DON'T GET PULLED!!!
__ ONLY SWIM AS FAST AS YOUR FORM STAYS GOOD!!!!

T1 - IN BIKE BAG

__ POOR EVERYTHING OUT OF BAG INSTEAD OF DIGGING FOR THINGS. HAVE IT ALL IN FRONT OF YOU TO SEE
__ DON'T LET VOLUNTEERS APPLY SUNSCREEN!!!! NAO OBRIGADA!!!
__ small absorbent towel
__ body glide inner thighs & toes
__ sunscreen (bullfrog on body, faces for face)
__ switch to bike shorts
__ chammy butter
__ no socks
__ no gloves
__ keep tri top
__ headband
__ sunglasses
__ helmet
__ cycling shoes
__ race belt with number (to back for bike)
__ 1 cheez it grips, 1 sports beans in back tri top pocket

BIKE SPECIAL NEEDS

__ 2 extra tubes
__ 2 extra co2
__ 2 more perpetuem flasks (pre frozen the night before)
__ extra salt tabs in baggy
__ chammy butter sample packs
__ 3 more drink mix baggies
__ 1 luna moons
__ 2 sports beans
__ 1 potato chips (eat right then)
__ 3 mini snickers (eat right then)


BIKE STRATEGY

__ FAVORITE PART IS DONE. PUT THE SWIM BEHIND YOU. RIDE THAT FUCKER!!!!
__ NOTHING TO EAT OR DRINK EXCEPT WATER FOR FIRST 15-20 MINUTES UNTIL HEART RATE COMES DOWN
__ STAY IN THE MOMENT
__ maintain between 85-90 RPM, heart rate in easy zone 2 on flats with higher zone 2 for hills(142-163)
__ eat on the 15's
__ drink on the 15's (1 to 2 bottles per hour depending on heat)
__ salt on the 30's
__ nice circles with pedals
__ stay aero 99% of the course
__ watch out for road conditions at all times. watch for reflectors in road, dips, chip seal on highway, ESPECIALLY THE DESCENT INTO DOWNTOWN!!!!
__ watch for other riders. watch for launching water bottles
__ check often that water bottles are secure
__ ***keep soundtrack in head***

T2 - IN RUN BAG

__ POOR EVERYTHING OUT OF BAG INSTEAD OF DIGGING FOR THINGS. HAVE IT ALL IN FRONT OF YOU TO SEE
__ DON'T LET VOLUNTEERS APPLY SUNSCREEN!!!! NAO OBRIGADA!!!
__ more sunscreen
__ keep tri top
__ dry jogbra if it's feelin' gnarls up in there
__ switch to tri bottoms
__ body glide
__ visor
__ put helmet and glasses back
__ socks
__ running shoes
__ hand bottle and carrier with luna moons
__ 1 extra cheez it grips for back of jersey
__ salt tabs in yellow rubber coin purse
__ 1 extra luna moons for back of jersey or up in visor
__ 1 sports beans to eat right away
__ switch race belt and number to front


RUN SPECIAL NEEDS

__ 1 bottle of mountain dew (de-fizzed)
__ potato chips
__ mini snickers
__ more gripz
__ more luna moons
__ more salt tabs
__ 1 dose of tylenol 8 hour
__ baby body glide
__ dry socks
__ long sleeved shirt
RUN STRATEGY

__ HARDEST PART IS DONE. PUT IT BEHIND YOU. YOU KNOW HOW TO RUN A SMART MARATHON. PACE YOURSELF TO THE MOTHER SHITTER OF A HILL AND BACK AND THEN GET.IT.DONE.BEYOTCH!!!
__ start out with 4:1 run/walk ratio for first 2-3 miles to get legs back
__ nice 10:30 to 11:30 pace at 6:1 all the way to last 10k.
__ stay in lower zone 3 (163-173)
__ no freaking out allowed if pace is slower. shit happens. KEEP MOVING!!!
__ eat 1/2 pack of luna moons on the 30's
__ salt on the 30's
__ drink when thirsty
__ take the chicken soup after 5pm!!!
__ STAY IN THE MOMENT. SHIT HAPPENS AND THIS TOO SHALL PASS!!!
__ ***keep soundtrack in head***
__ in the last 10k, if you're feelin' it, if there's anything left, this is when the race begins. YOU ARE A FUCKING ROCK STAR. RUN LIKE YOU STOLE IT!!!!
__ PLAN B, if you're not feelin' it, wait 'til lst 5k, then RUN LIKE YOU BORROWED IT!!!
__ PLAN C, if you're not feelin' anything from the waist down but massive darts of pain, walk the shit outta that last 5k. YOU'RE STILL A ROCK STAR!!!


*** the soundtrack is a list of my favorite songs that keep me movin'. since i can't and would never consider wearing an ipod on race day, i keep a list of songs in my head that i sing the choruses and lyrics from over and over on race day. sometimes i'm at a loss for what's on the ipod, so i make a list and listen to it just before the race to help me think of the choruses easily. y'all will have to wait 'til my race report for the playlist.

I MADE IT THROUGH THE WILDERNESSSOMEHOW I MADE IT THROUGH....

here's the math so far:

32 hours since i left L.A.
1 lost FUCKER before i got to Miami
8 mile run knocked out while running back and forth through the Sao Paolo airport trying to avoid...
1 more lost bag and...
1 missed flight
6 more hours of layover in Sao Paolo in which time
1 lost FUCKER was found and reunited on the rescheduled flight which cost me...
0 money (shout out to Luigi at TAM airways who is super fond of his year he spent abroad in Chicago)
1 happy iron virgin, who somehow through it all did not freak out or utter one curse word to anybody (maybe it's just because i don't know how to say FUCK in Portuguese)

turns out Oli brought his laptop, so i'm able to get online and write while he watches "The Magnificent 7" up in the room. and if it hadn't already set in that i'm here and about to do an Ironman, let me just be a star fucker for a second and let you in on who else is sitting with me in the lobby soakin' up the free wireless. to my left on the couch next to me sits HILLARY BISCAY. um, yeah, kind of a big deal. we've been swapping lost bike stories while she's online trying to coordiate her peeps back in the states to put another bike together and ship it to her. wow, doesn't suck to be her!!! now across from me sits perhaps the biggest deal going here this week. yep, two-time IM Brasil winner, cancer survivor and recent winner of IM China JUST TWO WEEKS AGO, OLAF SABATSCHUS. he's calm cool and collected, smiling and joining in with the banter around the lobby. so while we're not staying at the super posh hotel, we're clearly staying where the pros like to kick it, and that's cool by me.

and just one last story from before i left home. you might wanna take a second and go get the box of kleenex for this doozy:

for as long as i've been training for this thing, my moms has been non-stop with the questions. how long is it? how long will it take you?? what if you have to pee?? how do you eat?? but a few weeks ago when they aired Kona again on tv, my mom and i were driving in the car somewhere and she asks me why i chose Brasil over going to do the one in Hawaii that they show on tv. naturally i pissed myself laughing and then explained the minor little detail of qualifying that goes along with Kona. then she asks if i have a chance to qualify at Brasil. piss down the pants again, and i told her "nope. let's just say i'm not bringing my 500 bucks to Brasil." i explained that that's the code phrase when you're asking someone if they're trying to qualify for Kona, "you bringin' your 500 bucks in cash??" so cut to 3 nights ago. i'm cranky, rushed, pms'ing, and trying to just get my work done and get to sleep. she walks up to me as i'm sitting in the living room with my laptop and hands me this beautiful little envelope made out of gorgeous, deep purple, hand-made parchment. you see, my mom still has a love for the written word, hand-written letters, and collects fine stationary. she hands it to me and says "here. i want you to take this with you to Brasil because i think you owe it to yourself to be ready." i look up, still kinda agitated and confused as she puts the small envelope in my hand. i look at the writing, her perfect all caps printed writing that i've always tried to emulate since i was a kid, and there was one simple little word written on the front:

KONA

i cried, and cried, AND CRIED (coulda been the PMS a little bit too). i couldn't take it from her. i mean unless every other woman in my age group out there pretty much DIES on the course, y'all know as well as i do that i don't have a chance at qualifying. so my mom says "well then buy a bunch of t-shirts. i want you to have it." and there you have it. so now i'm pretty much as big of a deal as Hillary and Olaf sitting here with me. yep, i'm sponsored now. and that's the feeling i get from all of you with your kind words of encouragement and inspiration, like a sponsored pro with people rooting for them all the way, yet most of you don't really know me from adam. i hope not to let you all down out there. and if i don't qualify, no worries, YOU'RE ALL GETTIN' T-SHIRTS!!!!!

hope to check in again if i can.

DOWN TO THE WIRE

well, peeps. here it is, my last night before i leave, and still so much to do. i envisioned this epic lat post i would write, photos, new song, the whole enchilada. and there's so much to tell you, but just not enough time left. i pretty much won't sleep before i leave for the airport at 5am. here's the basic itinerary:

monday - L.A to Miami> 6hr. layover> Miami to Sao Paulo

tuesday - arrive in Sao Paulo at 6:30am> less than 2 hours to make it to my connecting flight to Florianopolis> rest of day getting my bearings, putting THE FUCKER together, wandering near hotel, trying not to take a nap and go to sleep by early evening

wednesday - saturday - get on Brasil time> survey course> expo shop fest> last 40 miler > swim at race start> light run here and there > see some sights too

sunday - um, DUH!!! btw, i'm #805 if you have nothing to do at 3am. Brasil is 4 hours past L.A.

monday - find my legs> awards at 9am> >see some more sights> after party Brasilian Style!!

tuesday - find my head, maybe even my clothes!!!. soak up some rays> pack it up

wednesday - flight from Florianopolis to Brasilia> hope i can see some of the renowned architecture from the plane or the airport> connect to flight for Manuas, capital of Amizonas> meet up with Pepper, my host, translator, driver> check into hotel> see the famous opera house and marketplace> evening in Manaus with Pepper> eat at local churrascaria and hopefully check out something going on at Sambadromo.

thursday - see the "meeting of the waters" that form the Amazon> wait for Florida guests to arrive at airport> pick up guests> drive to Presidente Figueira national park> check into hotel> evening with Pepper and Florida guests

friday - trek at least 4 of the 7 waterfall/rapids at Pres. Figueira> lunch at rapids> depart for Itacoatiara> arrive in Ita at Pepper & Joanna's B&B right on the Amazon

saturday - all day excursion on the Amazon in hammock boat> lunch on river> paranha fishing> maybe see pink dolphins> meet local river tribes people> dinner at Pep & Joe's> evening cd release party for local band "Mureru."

sunday - what Pepper calls a "free day." hmmmmm. sounds like a big hangover fest to me!!!> BBQ at Pep & Joe's with locals, friends, and family.

monday - back to airport> Manuas to Miami> Miami to L.A.

tuesday - arrive in L.A.

and there you have it. don't know how much internet access i'll have or want, but i'll at least try to let y'all know i survived THE FULL MONTY.

lastly, there's an African proverb that goes something like this:

IF YOU WANT TO GO FAST, GO ALONE
BUT IF YOU WANT TO GO FAR, GO WITH FRIENDS

thank you, friends. to the ones who've followed along from day 1 as i set out on this crazy-ass adventure. to those i've had the fortune to meet in person. to those who faithfully comment, know that i also read what you're up to, even if i can't comment back because you don't input your email address and i'm too lazy to look it up on your blog. and even if your blog isn't linked in the list on the left yet. i read so many more than those listed, but again, just too friggin' crazed with training to update it!!! and to those who lurk, hey do me a solid why don'tcha and give a shout. i'm gonna need all the help out there i can get.

it's been real, peeps. IT'S.BEEN.SO.FIRGGIN'.REAL.

HUMP DAY HAIKU CANCELED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

we here at I JUST WANT THE TATTOO regret to report that the wednesday series, HUMP DAY HAIKU, has been canceled until further notice. with IM Brasil looming, our fearless leader is a bit frazzled. one second she's excited, the next she's indifferent, and the next she's FREAKING THE FUCK OUT, and so goes the taper phase. with that said, it's just not within her brain capacity to function in the 5-7-5 haiku format.

rest assured that there will be more posts before she departs for south of the equator, but the haiku will not be among them. in the meantime, please take a look at other features on the blog. for instance, click on the "word of the day" and learn another piece of valuable Portuguese vocabulary. and be sure to get your vote in soon on where she'll get her tattoo. as this goes to press, it's a close race between the calf and the butt cheek!!

peace out.

LEMME 'SPLAINORI BLAME MIKE REILLY FOR ALL OF THIS!!!

i was recently asked "WHY BRASIL FOR YOUR FIRST IRONMAN?" and this wasn't the first time this question has come up, so i thought i'd take a second or two or million to tell you how this whole stupid idea came about in the first place. a "Declaration of Intent" if you will, or better yet, a "Declaration of Blame." i know i know. usually people write these up at the BEGINNING of training. hey, if it wasn't already clear that i do things outside the box and ass backwards, well here's your proof. so sue me...

let's go back to 2005 was it? yeah 2005. after competing in tris on my own for a few seasons, at the urging of some fellow marathoners, i joined LA Tri Club and soon after was attending my first banquet. they put these events on quarterly and bring in really awesome speakers. some have included the likes of Paula Newby-Fraser, Kate Major, Bob Roll (laughed my ass off all night) Macca (i was out of town. SO PISSED.), and Floyd Landis (very funny too considering all that he's endured). but the very first banquet i ever attended was an evening with Mike Reilly, "The Voice of Ironman." first off, i barely knew anything about Ironman other than that you had to be insane to even think about doing one let alone that there was "A Voice" to it all. turns out Mike has been announcing Ironman races all over the world for years and is the famous voice you here shouting " (insert poor, exhausted sap's name here) YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!" he gave a great talk, had us all laughing, told us stories about some funnier moments he's witnessed, some tragic ones too, but in the end, i still thought the same thing i did when i walked into that banquet that night: YOU HAVE TO BE INSANE TO THINK ABOUT DOING AN IRONMAN.

then after Mike was done talking he had a visor that he threw into the audience. mind you, it's a banquet hall of about 200 people, and everyone starts scrapping and clawing to get to where he ultimately threw it. now i was just sittin' in my seat, minding my own happy-to-be-doing-sprints-and-olys-thank-you business when the damn visor landed in my lap along with the smashed up faces and arms of about 6 triathletes all scrambling for it. I DIDN'T EVEN WANT IT. VISORS ARE SO NOT MY STYLE!!!

then through the rest of dinner, everyone starts pressuring me.

"you gonna keep it? i'll buy it off of you. you gonna get him to sign it? you HAVE to get him to sign it"

really? cuz it's just a visor. is it really that big a deal? ok, ok, i'll get him to friggin' sign it. pipe down!!! so i walk up to Mike Reilly.

MR: "hey, you caught my visor!!'

me: "actually, it kinda just landed in my lap."

MR: "give it here. i'll sign it for ya.."

me: "sure, ok."

MR: "which Race have you done?"

me: "which race?"

MR: "yeah, which Ironman?"

me: "uh, i've never done an Ironman."

MR: "you gonna do one next year?"

me: "uh, yeah, NO. and probably not the year after that or after that either. Ironman is for insane people."

MR (kinda joking, kinda condescending in that sing song voice getting higher tone) : "well ya know you can't wear this visor until you do an Ironman..."

me (to myself): "who does this guy think he is, Santa Claus? what, i gotta sit on his lap and play naughty or nice just to get him to sign this thing?? I DON'T WEAR VISORS AND I DIDN'T EVEN WANT THE THING!!! where's that guy who said he'd pay for it? now that it's signed i bet i can get more from him. FUCK IT. IT'S GOIN' ON EBAY TOMORROW MORNING."


it all started with a stupid visor
but i didn't sell it to the guy or on ebay. instead i stuck it in a drawer along with all the other free schwag i haven't decided to either throw out or sleep in. and there it sat for another year. i'd take it out every once in a while to look at the now illegible signature (someone spilled water on it later at the banquet) that used to read "Mike Reilly 'VOICE'". and i'd say to myself "fuck that guy!!! i can wear this visor if i want" but then i'd hear his voice in my head, chiding me because i didn't give a crap about Ironman, and i'd feel like a poser for wearing anything with the mdot logo on it. so back in the drawer it would go to collect dust bunnies.

cut to the following year, 2006. i'd done my first olympic distance at the end of the previous season and got the bug to GO HALF. BUT JUST A HALF!! OH GOD NEVER A FULL. i picked a race that happened to fall on my 35th birthday and had a blast training for it and finally racing it. i was amazed at the change in my fitness level, and somewhere on the bike in the middle of the race, i caught myself saying inside, "ya know, this ain't half bad. i might, JUST MIGHT, be able to pull off THE FULL MONTY!!!!" and there ya have it.

so i went for another season of 2 HIMS in '07, but knowing i needed to decide in advance which Ironman i'd want to do in '08. now i liken picking an Ironman race to buying a house. when you buy a house, there are 3 factors involved in the choice: PRICE, SIZE, and LOCATION. when you first set out to buy a house, you have to understand that you will compromise. you will only get 2 out of the 3, so it kinda breaks down to this:

GINORMOUS HOUSE IN POSH NEIGHBORHOOD = SELL YOUR SOUL TO THE BANK AND PRAY LIKE HELL YOU DON'T FORECLOSE.

SMALL ASS HOUSE IN SEMI-POSH NEIGHBORHOOD = SOMEWHAT MANAGEABLE MORTGAGE, BUT YOU'RE GONNA NEED A STORAGE SPACE

GINORMOUS HOUSE, 2-3 HOUR DRIVE TO WORK AND ALL YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY = FARELY AFFORDABLE MORTGAGE

or you could go with my dream situation:

TINY BREADBOX IN THE GHETTO, A TEAR DOWN DISGUISED AS A FIXER UPPER = THE LAST GREAT STEAL!!!

hey i love my ghetto, i love my neighbors, i can afford my mortgage, and well, there's just barely enough room for me, my two dogs and THE FUCKER. 'nuff said.

so when you set out to pick an Ironman, there will most likely by 4 factors involved, maybe 5, but you will compromise on 1 out of 3 or even 2 out of 5. for me it was: COST, HILLS, HEAT, and TIME OF YEAR. i couldn't really bend on the timing. i coach 6 months out of the year for The Aids Marathon Program, and i didn't want to give that up. my season runs from early June to first week in December when my runners complete the Honolulu Marathon. coaching pretty much eats up my Saturdays which, up until Ironman was still fine, as i could usually fit in some sort of short to medium length workout later on Saturdays and could still race on Sundays, but this would never work for THE FULL MONTY. so i started base in November during my last month of coaching when workouts weren't stupid long yet, and then it ramped up as soon as the coaching season wrapped. this had me mostly training through winter, but i'm fortunate to live in SoCal where "winter" is a relative term, and this winter proved to be mild. basically, i think i rode in some rain ONCE the entire training (sorry TEA and everyone else to the north or to the east). TIME OF YEAR=SOLVED.

next was HILLS. with cycling being my limiter and this fine, black thang pretty much weighing down the whole two-wheeled experience, i was deathly afraid of hills. so Lake Placid (sorry Kim) and Canada (sorry Rainmaker) were out. come to find out i've really improved on the bike, and i don't suck as bad as i used to. in fact i love climbing, but um yeah, not so much for the majority of the 112 mile course. Brasil is not hilly, but it ain't flat either, and it can tend to be windy, but it all sounds manageable. HILLS=SOLVED

moving onto HEAT. this is again where i could not compromise. i have learned my lesson from my marathon experiences that i just fall apart in extreme heat. so yeah, when i watched IMAZ live and in person a few weeks back, i seriously wondered if i coulda made it under those conditions. just trying to knock out a 15 mile run while everyone was out on the bike course was absolutely miserable. no no, me and the heat do not get along. so while we're in Spring and moving towards Summer here in The States, south of the equator, IT'S FALL!!! yep, IM Brasil reports temps between the mid 60's to high 70's and recommends that all participants expecting to finish after dark should pack a long sleeve top in their special needs bag. SUWEEEEET!!! only caveat could be humidity, but that's what salt is for. i'll just have to pace myself and see how it's effecting me, but i can deal with humidity easier than heat. HEAT=SOLVED

lastly we have COST, and this is where i get screwed. i have chosen to travel to another country on another continent, requiring that i arrive 1 day early for every change of time zone (4 hour difference, thanks!!), visas, vaccinations, bike cases, the whole enchilada (or whatever yummy delicacy they eat in Brasil). i will also extend my trip (more on that soon) to a destination that is CASH ONLY. but ya know what? i may only do this once (not likely), so why not go all the way?? i wanna race somewhere that i really wanna travel to and explore, and no offense, but it ain't C'oeur D'Alene, Idaho (sorry EVERYONE!!), or for god's sake, Louisville, Kentucky (sorry suckas). i mean come on. Louisville Kentucky in August?? with my heat issues, i just peed my pants laughing when they announced that new gem of a location. so ok, COST is where i'm having to bleed a little, and i'm gonna be ok with it (more on that later too).

for some, the ocean swim might have been a consideration. maybe you're afraid of sharks or you live in a landlocked region where you've never even seen the ocean before, or maybe you prefer not to start your salt intake before you get on the bike? i grew up swimming in the ocean from the time i could say FUCK (about 3 i think), so it's second nature to me. in fact i like when the surf is big on race day, cuz it gives me a chance to get ahead of you skinny bitches who will inevitably pass my ass on the bike or later the run. so yeah, big ocean, bring it on, but even that isn't the case in Brasil. the swim takes place in a calm bay, nearly no surf, but possibly a current. JEALOUS YET??

some out there might venture to say that i've picked an "easy Ironman," and to them i say BITE.ME. it's an Ironman. is there really such a thing as easy?? if it were easy, everyone would be an Ironman. i picked what works for me.

so there you have it, peeps. let's review, shall we:

IT'S THIS GUYS FAULT.

getta load o' this joker!!!

I'M DOING IT FOR A FRIGGIN' VISOR, AND I DO WEAR VISORS NOW, AND I WILL WEAR THAT STUPID AUTOGRAPHED VISOR UNTIL IT DISINTEGRATES FROM MY IRON HEAD.

THE WEATHER WILL BE RELATIVELY MILD.

THERE WILL BE LITTLE TO NO SURF AND SOME CURRENT IN THE OCEAN SWIM. NO SHARKS, BUT CORAL REEFS JUST BELOW AND POSSIBLY JELLY FISH.

IT WILL BE RELATIVELY FLAT ON THE BIKE WITH 4 SMALL HILLS, BUT POSSIBLY WINDY.

SAME ON THE RUN AS ON THE BIKE, BUT I BETTER BUNDLE UP FOR AFTER DARK.

APPARENTLY, THE AWARDS CEREMONY THE NEXT NIGHT IS OFF.THE.HOOK.

AND IF ALL GOES AS TRULY PLANNED, YOU CAN SHIP ME ALL O' MY SHIT, CUZ I AIN'T COMIN' HOME!!!! YOU PLANNIN' ON STAYIN' ON IN LOUISVILLE?? YEAH, DIN'T THINK SO...


hey, sucka. YOU.ARE.AN.IRONMAN!!! have a visor...

IRON SHITHEAD

i felt a lot better today after a good night's sleep. still a little light headed and a slight funk in my throat, but i felt fine for tonight's run, so that's a good sign. but being a little stressed and a little under the funk is no excuse to be an asshole to the ones i love.

tonight on my way to drive to the bowl to knock out my 5 miler, out of the blue, my car won't start. ironically, not an hour and a half earlier, i pulled into my driveway while on the phone with my auto mechanic who i happen to be coaching to run his first marathon in June. car was running fine. no problems, and now it simply won't start. it's not a dead battery cuz i didn't hear the "click of death," but for whatever reason, it's just not kicking over. i called Fabian back, as if after shop hours he was magically going to tell me something that would magically make it start. he didn't. it didn't. he says it could be a bunch of things, but maybe the spark plugs, maybe the fuel line.

YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME. NOT NOW. I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS.

just then Iron maiden of Honor, Lesley, called. she sounded so happy as her man is in town and she wanted to know if i had any recommendations for a good seafood restaurant. i kinda snapped at her that i couldn't even think about that cuz my car wouldn't start and i needed to get a 5 mile run in. she awkwardly said, "well, call me if there's anything i can do to help." yeah, sure, like she hasn't done enough to help me just about every weekend when i've used her apartment as t1 for my brick workouts or even stayed over the weekend to do a series of long workouts and ocean swims. and yeah, i'm gonna call her in the middle of her date to come clear across town and help my with my stupid ass car. she is too good to me, and she didn't deserve my snappy tone.

it seems silly to drive somewhere just to knock out 5 miles, but my neighborhood lies on a ravine and most streets are too steep to get a nice flat run in. in the end, i plotted out a course and left from my house with a short warm up walk down to the end of the block and then across my neighborhood where i just had to do 3 loops or a few blocks to keep it flat, no big deal. came home and car still wasn't starting. ok, i'll have to deal with having it towed to the shop on my way to get my swim workout in. maybe rent a car. do what i gotta do...

then tonight after i'm showered and starting to make myself some dinner, my sister calls. i had called her earlier to say happy birthday to my niece. i can't believe she is 13. they grow up so fast!!! my sister was kinda rambling on and on about her patients and her new car and how she's working so much she's barely home, and i just had to cut her off. i adore my sister, and i admire her for busting her ass to raise my niece on her own and all the hours she spends taking care of other people's ailing family members just to take care of her own. she says she's working 100 hours a week right now!! i work AND train for Ironman, and i don't even put 100 hours in a week!!! when does she see my niece?? crazy thing is, i don't even think my sister understands what i do for a living or what a triathlon is let alone an Ironman. she never really asks about what i do, nor do i think she could really comprehend it. our realities are just that different and disconnected, and that kinda makes me sad. so i had to cut her off. i said,"listen, i really gotta go now. i need to be in bed in like an hour, and i have so much to do before then." i could tell by the tone in her voice that she was put off by my line of crap. she didn't deserve that either, but I REALLY NEED TO SLEEP.

so tomorrow, in the midst of me getting my car towed, renting a car, getting to the pool, getting to A REALLY IMPORTANT TEST SHOOT, and then back home to cycle 40 miles before i head to my evening class clear across town, i need to stop and make two phone calls, not emails, PHONE CALLS, and tell two people i love and who i know would walk to the ends of the earth for me, that I'M SORRY I WAS SUCH AN ASSHOLE. no matter that there's 17 days left. no matter that i have a shit ton of crap to still buy and pack AND still get training in. none of that gives me a free pass to treat anyone i love with anything less than the respect they deserve, and i'm counting on y'all to do me a solid and keep my ass in check...

I NO FEEL SO GOOD

went for my Yellow Fever vaccination this morning. the nurse sat me down and handed me a whole pamphlet on travel concerns related to Brasil. then she tried to sell me on a slew of shots. your talkin' to the girl who doesn't even like to take aspirin and antibiotics only if my tonsils are DRIPPIN' WITH PUSS. i think we're an over medicated society. i mean RESTLESS LEG SYNDROME? are you kidding me? you bet i have restless leg syndrome. I'M A TRIATHLETE.

and then i got all the side effects like in the commercials:

MAY CAUSE VOMITING, UNCONTROLLABLE SHITS, LIMP PEE PEES, DRYMOUTH, ITCHING, REDNESS, YEAST INFECTION, NIGHT SWEATS, NIGHTMARES, HAIR LOSS, HAIR GROWTH, WEIGHT LOSS, WEIGHT GAIN, YET STILL WITH NO GUARANTEES THAT YOU DON'T GET THE NASTY DISEASE YOU'RE TRYING TO PREVENT IN THE FIRST PLACE..

ya know what? FUCK IT. i'll take the Yellow Fever. but ya know i couldn't take that risk. still, i politely declined the 5 other things she told me i needed to get, bought some fancy bug repellent, and got THE SHOT. i obsessed for a second on which arm to get it in. if i had a reaction or it made my arm sore or stiff, should it be the arm that's already afflicted with frozen shoulder thereby rendering it useless for Ironman?? or should i go with the opposite arm and hope for the best but potentially be left with two crap arms for the swim (and the bike and the run for that matter)? i went with the good arm, my right arm and i haven't experienced any of the burning or pain that she warned me about, but now i've got cottonmouth really bad, a sort of slight anaphylaxis feeling in my throat, the feeling of a sinus headache and a low grade fever. WTF??

so i guess the idea of a vaccine is that you get injected with a healthy "preview" strain of the disease you're trying to fight off thereby prepping your immune system to fight it should the full disease present itself in the future. so i got pricked with yellow fever?? so now i have a light yellow fever?? that is so fucked up...

THIS BETTER WEAR OFF BY TOMORROW. I'VE GOT A TAPER TO GET ON WITH.

WEEKEND RECAP: THE PERFECT END TO PEAK PHASE

i need to clear up a little confusion. although i have Wildflower listed on the race roster over there, it hadn't totally committed to it. COACH gave me the option to either stay home and follow the final peak workout that was on the schedule - an 80 mile ride with sustained climbs saturday and a 1 mile ocean swim and 15 mile run on sunday - or i could go to Wildflower and race the bike leg of the long course relay on Saturday followed by the Olympic distance solo on Sunday. oh yeah, and in case you don't already know, there's camping involved in the middle there. now i'm all for camping, in fact camping and triathlon?? MY TWO FAVORITE PAST TIMES!!! but honestly, the only reason i entertained racing at Wildlflower was for revenge. without getting too into it, i basically got word that someone i despise to the core from my marathon days was taking up triathlon and had registered to do the Oly as her first race. i knew i could take her, in fact i knew i could WIPE HER ASS ALL OVER THAT COURSE, but is that what i should be focusing on 3 weeks out from Ironman?? um, yeah, not so much. i can just see it, eating shit on that crazy bike course and jeopardizing my big day all because i wanted to settle a score. that's ok, cuz no amount of swim, bike, and run training will help her improve in time for me not to SERVE HER ASS UP ON A SILVER PLATTER at Wildflower next year. that is, if she didn't suck ass so bad this weekend that she even wants to do another tri. but enough hating...i digress...

as y'all read in my last post, i hit the "Taper Freak Out" a little early. i'm sure there's gonna be more freak outs in the next 3 weeks, but all of a sudden , i was dreading this last weekend of long workouts. i was losing focus, losing control of my time, LOSING IT. then on top of it, the recent fires had left the air quality so bad near home that i was forced to drive west seeking long, sustained climbs. so i had to head to Malibu and the Santa Monica Mountains, what i like to affectionately call "The Hell Canyons." i was so traumatized from my first venture up there, that i hadn't been back since base training. so what better time to tackle your fears than during peak training!! once again, i picked canyons i'd never ridden before, and while there were several bail out options, i'd be damned if i took one of them!!

THE FUCKER is riding so smooth after his overhaul. i gotta give Manny, my bike mechanic, some mad props here. when i stopped into a random bike shop a few weeks back to ask for some air in the middle of a ride, the guy started shaking his head and explaining to me how the headset was pitted and i should have the bearings replaced soon. he showed me how it didn't turn free and smoothly, and explained it'd probably be a $40 repair. so i mentioned it to Manny and asked him to give me the lowdown on anything else that had to be replaced or upgraded so i could decide if i could afford it. turns out he simply cleaned out the bearings and they didn't need to be replaced. now whether the other guy at the other bike shop would have discovered the same thing or gone ahead and charged me for something i didn't know any better about whether i needed or not, well who's to say, but it's kinda like the way they trick women at the Jiffy Lube into shit they don't need when all they came in for was an oil change. here's what my dad, also a mechanic btw, taught me to say when i go there:

"listen, i just need an oil and filter change, NOTHING ELSE. i know it's your job to point out other crap my car may need, but today I JUST NEED THE OIL CHANGED, THANKS. so don't come at me with my dirty air filter cuz i know that it can just be blown out, k?? OIL CHANGE ONLY. i'm gonna go across the street and grab something to eat. when i come back, the bill should be 29.95 and i'm outta here. UNDERSTAND??"

they hate me at Jiffy Lube

but i never have to give that spiel at my bike shop. Manny hooked me up, and THE FUCKER is riding like a dream. so smooth, so easy. i really don't know what all he did, but it's almost too smooth. he's so responsive now, and he got a little speed wobbly a few times, but i think i can keep it all under control on race day.

i took the "Hell Canyons" by storm. no doubt, there's some serious climbing up there, but i just sat back, settled in and told myself i was gonna be there a while. most people passed me more so than me passing anybody else, but with every pedal stroke, i felt i was making my final significant deposit into the Bank of Ironman. and i was there A WHILE. i headed off PCH up Latigo Canyon which didn't seem as crazy as everybody makes it out to be, especially after climbing up Glendora Mountain Rd. the previous weekend. what was harder for me was getting to the top and taking Mulholland over to the next section. you get to Mulholland after a few hours of climbing and from the elevation profile, you're thinking you can relax on some flats for a bit, but it's pretty much going uphill or downhill, no flats really, and then i reached the next sustained climb up Piuma. i had half a mind to bail out and just head back down Las Virgenes to PCH, but i stuck it out and i'm soooooooo glad i did. just as i started to head into the climb, there painted on the ground from probably some previous race are three lines that read:

FORCE
DE
TOUR

it was a sign and just the ammunition i needed to get up this mother. soon came the markers for the last 5k.

5K

ok, that's 3.1 miles left. i can spin for 3.1 miles. no problem.

4K

i don't know what 4k equals in miles. i'll try to do the math in my head. let's see, 5 over 3 is equal to 4 over x. x equals 4 over (5 divided by 3). NO WAY!!! all that high school math was coming back to me. ok, 5 over 3 is equal to roughly 1.6. oh yeah, i knew that already. 1 mile equals 1.6k. so now 4 over 1.6. awe crap. too late...

3K

ok, so 3 over 1.6 equals...awe crap, decimals. well, it's definitely somewhere just under 2 miles. and this distraction kept on going..

2K

at this point, i'm all mathed out but i know that once i get just over halfway between this marker and the 1K marker i'll be 1 mile from the top. that's 4 laps around a track. one lap at a time, one pedal stroke at a time, i'll get there. suddenly the road and the view to the right opens up, and i'm looking down at the Pacific Ocean below. now all of a sudden, in some weird, masochistic way, i don't want this to end. i don't want to hit taper. is that crazy to say?? then came the MAD CRAZY descent down Las Flores Canyon. mind you, i'd mapped this all out on gmap pedometer, and although the elevation chart gives you a sort of indication of what your ascents and descents should be, nothing really prepares you for the crazy ass narrow roads you have to take to get you there. even the satellite option doesn't really indicate the feeling your gonna get when your whizzing around a tight turn and realize that if you miss this by even a few inches, YOU'RE GOING RIGHT OVER THE CLIFF. and by "whizzing" i mean like 12 mph and CLENCHING onto the breaks for dear life. i love descending, but Las Flores was just too hairball, and i'd never ridden it before, so i had no clue what was coming next. by the time i finally made it to the bottom, it wasn't my legs that were hurting, it was MY ARMS from leaning into the handlebars and clenching the brakes for dear life!!! at the bottom, i still had about 17 miles to get back to Les' place. coulda been THE FUCKER'S smooth ride, coulda been the wind at my bike or could been that i'm a cycling animal (in my head at least) but i ate that road up and made it back in record time. after 70 miles with a hella lotta climbing, i still had something left. SUCCESS!!! total time for the 80 miles was about 7 hours, total ride time, i can't remember, and i'm too lazy and too sore to go look on the bike computer, but i think average speed was something over 12mph, so considering all the climbing, i ain't mad at that. Brasil won't be half as gnarls as that ride. my nutrition was a little dicey though. my Carbo Pro didn't arrive Friday as promised so i had to rely on my Perpetuem for most of my calories and mixed in some Luna Moons just to switch up the flavor and consistency. i'm definitely including Luna Moons on the big day just to keep it diverse with flavor. as y'all who've been following along for a while may know, i have to keep the flavors exciting or that's when i'm in danger of not eating often enough.

stayed on the westside at Iron Maiden, Lesley's place as she was at Wildflower and woke up the next morning all rested but still sore and not really knowing what to expect for the day's brick. got in the water at the Venice Pier, but different from last weekend, the waves were pretty sizable and the surfers were already out in full force, so i'd have to fight a little to get out in it and mindful not to snake anybody. i just wasn't in the mood either, but oh well, had to get out there. i did snake one guy as i couldn't get out of his paddle fast enough, but i profusely apologized and he didn't seem to be too upset about. i didn't go for distance but rather time. 20 minutes out, 20 minutes back, but in an attempt to not have to come back through the surf line again, i added a few more minutes swimming out of their way and further back down the beach. exiting was tricky as i tried to wait for a set to pass before i came in. i just didn't wanna get tousled in something that would cramp my calf up. so i waited and duck dived under a few bigger waves and then made my way in. 1 mile and some change, and then off for my 15 mile run. i was kinda in a hurry too, as I HAD A BLOGGY MEET UP TO GET TO!!! more on that in a second...

started out on the run still feeling stiff from the previous day's climbing. i just didn't feel in a groove at all, but i had to trust that i would warm up and get into it. still though, by mile 5 where i most definitely find my groove by, i still wasn't in it, kinda feeling my IT band going up to my hip, but not in any real significant pain. i just need to make stretching a regular part of my nightly routine from here on out. i practiced storing my Cheeze-It Gripz pack and some Luna Moons in the elastic of my visor. it worked well which will free me up from having to wear any sort of belt on my waist at IM Brasil. i'll also carry my water bottle in it's hand carrier which will store salt caps. still though, on this run, I FELT HUNGRY. just didn't eat enough of a breakfast to sustain me after swimming first. note to self: a quick protein shake ain't gonna cut it!!!! still, i powered through and by the end i surprisingly found that i had maintained just over a 10:30 pace and an average heart rate of 148!! this was a pleasant surprise since my goal pace for Ironman is somewhere more like and 11:00-11:30 pace. when all was said and done, i just wanted to crash, but instead i downed a quick protein shake, showered and raced down to The O.C. to meet up with none other than...

WAIT






WAIT








WAIT.FOR.IT.







RECOGNIZE THIS GUY???


a 2 hour tour. A 2 HOUR TOUR...

THE KAHUNA!!!! no way, get outta town!!! i had been commenting to Greyhound on his blog about how bummed i was that i wouldn't be able to meet them all at Wildflower. low and behold, they invited me to drive down and meet them for a post-Wildflower afternoon boat cruise of Newport Harbor, also known as The Kahuna's triathlon headquarters. so there i was meeting 5 complete strangers who only knew me through the tri blog world, and ALL OF THEM IRONMEN!!


Curly Su gets a quick boat steering lesson from The Kahuna

Greyhound's turn!!!
what better way to spend the end of the peak phase than to get reassurance from these awesome tri blog peeps that i'm gonna be ok at IM Brasil. they were all so calm, so cool and collected. coulda been that 3 out of 5 of them had just done Wildflower the day before, one of the toughest Half IMs out there, and 1 out of 5 of them just had foot surgery. take a look at his footsies:


what would Iron Wil think of these feet?

or it coulda been the TEQUILA.

Taconite Boy looks a little intimidated by Kahuna's margarita skills


we should all be scared of Robo Stu's margaritas!!!
when Kahuna handed me a margarita, i turned to hand it to Curly Su only to discover that she was already holding one. oh, wait, you mean i can have a margarita?? you guys sure?? i'm 3 weeks out from Ironman ya know. to which i received a resounding,"SURE YOU CAN!!! NO WORRIES!!!!" so, i'm just gonna state for the record right here right now that if i don't make it across the line, i blame these guys!!!


me, Greyhound, Taconite Boy, Curly Su, The Kahuna, and Robo Stu.

then we went back to Kahuna's for a little game o' HORSE. let's just say, i'm sticking to triathlon dreams and not hoop dreams. but really, i can't tell you how special it was to meet these guys. they're just what they're like on their blogs, really kind and giving souls who happen to all share a love of this awesome sport. i wish for all of you that you get a chance to meet up with them some day too. next up is IM CDA for Greyhound, Cury Su, Taconite Boy, and i think maybe Robo Stu too?? and let's all wish The Kahuna a speedy recovery and some killer training for IMAZ in November!!! if all goes as planned, i'll be back there again to cheer him and many other Tri Club buddies on to victory.

AIGH'T!!! ON TO TAPER...

FORCE
DE
TOUR

FRIDAY FREE FORM

22 DAYS LEFT. am i ready? i can't possibly be ready. missed my 60 miler yesterday. that's definitely gonna set me back. went for my visa today. it will be ready with 4 DAYS TO SPARE!!! vaccinations will happen monday. hope i don't have any adverse reactions. shoulda gotten them earlier, but i've been broke. now all of a sudden work is dumping on me. not enough days to get everything done. NOT ENOUGH DAYS. NOT ENOUGH SLEEP. and even when there's plenty of sleep, i'm waking up in the middle of the night with anxiety that i'm forgetting something, forgetting an errand. bike case is secured. phew. i think my shoes are broken down. too late to break in new ones. that's definitely gonna set me back. still have 9 miles to knock out tonight. tomorrow is 80 miles with long, sustained hill climbs. sunday's brick is a 1 mile ocean swim followed by a 15 mile run. and to top it all off, today i'm

HUNGOVER

stupid stupid stupid....

HUMP DAY HAIKU!! (LATE EDITION)

me about 30 pounds heavier at mile 20 of NYC marathon '03

20 miles of hope
6 miles of reality
POINT 2 OF IRON

THE LISTS

IN THE NEXT 25 DAYS I NEED TO

1. become fluent in Portuguese
2. FIND MY CAMERA!!!
   
3. acquire my visa for entry to Brasil
4. secure a bike case to rent
5. get a yellow fever shot and purchase malaria pills to take with me
   
6. STAY HEALTHY
   
7. continue to train at peak intensity
8. then a 3 week taper
9. then become an IRONMAN
10. then get THE TATTOO
    
11. - 100. all the shit i've forgotten about but will remember on the 24th day...
    

and a little side note about the term "IRONMAN." a lot of friends have corrected themselves and called me an IRONWOMAN, but on this one point, i'm not so much the PC Police. there's no Ironwoman logo, no Ironwoman tattoo, no Ironwoman visor, no wetsuit, no sticker, nothin'. so when i cross that line, you can straight up call me an Ironman, cuz i sure as hell will have earned the title!!! ok, next list...

THE BUCKET LIST

this is not so much a list of stuff i wanna do before i die, but rather a list of things i'd like to do but can't do because i'm training for an Ironman and can't risk getting hurt or miss training or be distracted...

1. i'd like to join in on my old sunday pick up soccer game again
2. surf again
3. snowboard again
4. go hear live music
5. dinner night with my homies once a week for the rest of the year!!!
   
6. i'd like to take up rowing
7. redo my photography portfolio to focus on athlete stories
8. be trained to be a guide for a blind triathlete for the C Different Foundation
   
9. i think i just might be ready for a boyfriend again
10. and lastly, I REALLY REALLY REALLY WANNA SEE IF I CAN HANG WITH THESE GUYS!!!!

CUZ IT AIN'T NO RACE. IT'S A HUSTLE...

oh, i'm sure there's more i'm forgetting right now. yes, i'm certain there's much much more, cuz i'm not kidding myself. Ironman isn't the answer. Ironman will not define me nor answer all of life's great mysteries. it isn't the end of the road. no, IT'S JUST THE BEGINNING...