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...

WEEKEND RECAP

got back from Denver and still had to knock out a swim and a run on my way home from the airport. then i went and got a much needed massage at Pho Siam. all this had me not getting to bed 'til about midnight, so i had two choices for my 70 miler the next morning.

1) beat the heat and ride on very little sleep

2) get my 8 hours sleep and ride through the forecasted high of 92.

i went for option #2. it sucked. it sucked balls. in training, do you ever get the feeling that you've set yourself up for disaster? yeah, that was pretty much the theme this ENTIRE WEEKEND. when i did finally get my sleep and woke up to eat breakfast and mix all my food, i discovered that i had no Carbo Pro and very little Gatorade Endurance. so i mixed what i had and brought cash with me to buy more Gatorade on the road. i quickly discovered just how much i rely on the calories in the Carbo Pro as i felt hungry the entire way. on top of that, it was hot as balls which made me repulsed to consume any Perpetuem. i mixed 3 gel flasks full of it and barely got through 1 by the time the ride was over. but i rode anyway. left from my house, rode 24 miles to the base of Mt. Baldy, then climbed the 11 miles up to get to my 70 mile turnaround point. there were quite a few cyclists coming down who'd probably started at a more civilized hour. they all looked at me like i was insane for heading up so late. as i came back down, the heat really became intense, and i really started to feel the lack of calories. i stopped at a 7-11, bought a Snickers and a Mountain Dew and stayed inside to suck up the a/c while i scarfed and gulped down my purchases. the Mountain Dew was a suggestion from COACH for my run special needs bag. this was a great opportunity to test it out what with my TOTAL NUTRITIONAL DEPLETION!! it tasted great and helped me surge through the last 13 miles!!! made it home and quickly gulped down some choco soy milk to feed the muscles and bring me back up to speed. then, since i'll be out of town on a shoot again 'til wednesday, i decided it would be a perfect opportunity to drop THE FUCKER off for his COMPLETE PRE-IRONMAN OVERHAUL. he's gonna get completely pulled apart, bottom bracket all cleaned and lubed, new cables, new headset bearings (they're pitted already), complete adjustment of the derailleurs, wheels trued, and a wash. YESSS!!!! after that it was home to have a nice dinner and get plenty of sleep for the next day's insane schedule.

i thought i'd get some relief from the heatwave by heading out west to the beach for sunday's workouts, but i knew it was gonna be a scorcher when i headed out for my 2 mile ocean swim and started to sweat balls in my wetsuit on the short walk to the water. i swam from Venice Pier south to the MDR Jetty and back. now that i've g-mapped it, it looks like it was a little short, more like 1.8 miles. conditions were pretty glassy, barely any surf, probably more calm than the lake swim at Rage the previous weekend. all that to say that there were no surfers out and no lifeguard on duty yet. not what i prefer for going out alone, but i couldn't stall, too much to still get done today. still, i didn't feel alone. there were so many people already out on the beach and walking the pier, looking at me like i was insane for going in after friday's shark attack. PULEEEZ. the water was so shallow for so far out that a great white would suffocate first before getting to take a bite outta me. i swam just outside the surf line, and could still see the sand just below me about 10 feet tops. did my 1.8 miles in about 53 minutes. NICE!!! that has me on track to do a 1:10 for 2.4 miles, but i don't expect the same glassy conditions at Ironman. throw in some more surf, some more current, and 11,199 other people stuffed in neoprene all jockeying for position, and i'm looking at more like a 1:15 to 1:20 performance. i ain't mad at that.

got out and walked a block up to Iron Maiden of Honor, Lesley's crib to change and head out for my 17 mile run. once again, i'd set myself up for disaster. i quickly discovered that i forgot my jogbra AND my hrm strap. DOH!!! Les let me borrow the biggest jogbra she had, and it was still a pretty tight squeeze, but i managed. she joined me for about the first 6 or so miles, slowing down to my pace (she's super speedy in those Newtons of hers) and a 6:1 run/walk ratio. without my hrm, i had to go by perceived rate of excursion, so it was nice having Les along. if i could keep a good conversation going with her, i figured i was in a good zone for a long, sustained run. less than a mile in, we ran into fellow LA Tri clubber and all around insane athlete, Amy Berkin. she mumbled something about having to do a build run and it being so hot, she was only keeping a 7:00 pace, and did we wanna join her. um, yeah, not so much, thanks!! i had set some Gatorade out under a bush to refill when we passed again after the first loop, but realized when we approached that i'd barely drank any of my first bottle of it!!! then off for the second loop, the longer section. Les had to get back and go to church, so i was now on my own. the heat seemed to dissipate with periodic bursts of breeze coming off the water, but it was still hot as balls and no shade to hide under. i cranked up the ipod and surged along, until i started running into everyone and their grandma out there. first, it was Yanti and Faeron, two of my Aids Marathoners that i've coached, Yanti having just completed Oceanside 70.3 a few weeks prior, and Faeron doing a 20 miler in prep for the San Diego Rock 'n Roll Marathon in june. Faeron's just gettin' started in Triathlon and has done really well at her first few races, so i'm gonna lend her one of my wetsuits for her to test out. kept on going a few more miles and then i ran into fellow Aids Marathon coach, Kathy Freud. it was great to see her too as she recently announced she wouldn't be coming back to coach this season. she's 2nd to me in seniority by only a year, so i know what a hard decision it was for her to eave, and i was glad i got to see her. turns out she's got frozen shoulder as well!! so we commiserated on that a bit, and then i remembered that not only did i have about 8 more miles to knock out, but i had to be at a wedding by 2pm!!! hug hug, kiss kiss, love ya mean it, gotta go!!!! alright, if i keep up my pace and not stop to talk to ANYONE ELSE, i think i can make it on time, but nope. sure enough, just about a mile down the way, i ran into dear old friend and stylist extraordinaire, Scott Free!! luckily, he was riding his cruiser, so i told him to ride along side of me so we could catch up. Scott began his styling career around the time i was finishing up art school and had to take a fashion class. he'd show up to the class and help style our models, secretly picking from the bunch the shooters he thought had potential and trying to test with them more. i really wasn't feeling fashion, but he used to pester me that he liked the way i shot and we should collaborate more. when i got out of school, i hired Scott to style my biggest paying job ever. we had a blast. i haven't seen him in maybe 5 years, and sure enough, first question outta his mouth was "you still shooting?? you wanna test??" now for Scott to offer that now at this stage in his career, i was flattered. i told him i'd like to switch up the focus to shoot more athletes and he flipped. " i love sports shit!! i just did a huge Adidas campaign. girl, we need to work together!!!' that felt like a great sign as lately i've put the career on hold for this Iron dream. i'm definitely brewing up some ideas to change up the photo work when i'm back from Brasil, and i've been getting little signs everywhere on how i'll pull it off.

ok, wedding, 2pm. GET.THIS.DONE.

the last 3 miles or so, i was running on a pretty empty tank and also realized i had no cash with me to even buy a Snickers or Mountain Dew or a peanut. soon i started noticing everyone on the boardwalk passing me with food and drink. one guy actually pedaled past me on a recumbent rental bike, steering it with one hand as he held a slice of pizza on a paper plate in the other. everyone, EVERYONE, had drinks in hand. i was getting so ravenous, i had half a mind to steal one right outta some kid's hands. would it be inappropriate to ask someone for a sip?? ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, ENOUGH ALREADY. FINISH.THIS.BITCH.
powered through the last 2 miles basically on fumes and came in at just over 11:00 miles. right about where i hope to be for Ironman. luckily i'd thought ahead and had a big sports bottle o choco soy milk waiting in Les' fridge for me. grabbed it along with my transition bag and my now bone dry wetsuit and made a mad dash for my car.

WEDDING!!! 2pm!!!!

shit. i was cutting it really close, so i texted Simko.

"happy wedding day!!! u guys walking down the aisle right at 2pm?? i'm RACING home to shower and make it on time!!!"

simko: "yes maaaaam."

shit. shit. shit. come on mom volvo, get me home!!!! ok, i can shower in 5 minutes, oh wait, shit, my dress needs to be ironed, ok, 3 minutes to shower, wait be sure to plug in the iron to preheat before you shower, then shower, iron dress, quick makeup but not a ton, enough to cover the cycling racoon eyes, grab camera, battery, flash cards, and wedding is 10 minutes away.....

mom volvo starts to sputter...

FUUUUUUUUUUUCK ME!!! YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING!!!!!

outta gas. i can't remember when i last ran outta gas, and then next exit is blocked off by some highway workers. i can't even coast off the freeway. suddenly this has become the scene outta the movie, The Graduate, when Dustin Hoffman is trying to make it to Santa Barbara to stop his girlfriend form marrying that other guy. only i'm not hearing Simon and Garfunkel singing their catchy diddy.

Elaine!!!! Elaine!!!

(if you don't get this reference, you were probably born in the 80's and you really need to watch The Graduate)

i park the car, hazard lights on, call AAA for roadside assistance as i also get out of the car all in my post-17 mile, STANKY get up, and SPRINT down the offramp to look for a gas station.

hey, there wasn't any sprint speed work on my schedule today!!!

YESS, there's a gas station!! thanks AAA lady, i'm good, no need to send someone out. "do you have a gas can i can borrow? of course not!! a gas can is 10 bucks? and gas is 4 bucks a gallon?? this holds 2 gallons?? GOOD THING I BROUGHT A 20 spot!!!"

back up to the freeway. HAWTIE highway patrolman is now parked behind me and sessing out mom volvo. "here i am!! here i am! sorry, had to go get gas." then hawtie patrolman says he'll stay with me to make sure it starts ok, and do i need some handy wipes..

MUST.GET.TO.WEDDING.ON.TIME.

slide through the front door to discover that the housekeeper, who i haven't seen in months because i'm gone to train before she gets there, is there. YAY!!! she can iron while i shower and i think that'll make up for the gas crisis. i decided against THE LUCKY DRESS as it really wasn't appropriate for an afternoon garden wedding. went with a flowery number i last wore last summer. shit. too big in all the wrong places. no time to fix it now, nothing else clean and ready to wear. MAKE.IT.WORK.

racing, racing, bobbing and weaving through traffic to get there. i come around the corner and see maybe 15 people still walking up to the house. cool, at least if i'm late, i'm not the only one. walk in the back yard filled with empty chairs and hardly anyone had arrived yet. PHEW!!! found Yeofi who i haven't seen in about a year (listen to his angelic voice here!!! in particular, "Africa Displaced"). he'd just got back from Ghana so we shared malaria stories. i gotta take the pills with me to Brasil, but Yeof warns me that they're psychotropic and i'll have ganrly nightmares. um, yeah, no thanks!!! heart rate is now coming down and I.CAN.RELAX. here's a shot of me and the boys and the dress that wasn't quite right...

me, Yeofi, and the groom, SIMKO!!! silly Jason is peeking his head in on the left there...

i did it. another crazy weekend closer to Ironman. i pulled it all off, and still had time to capture this moment....

Sue Ann and Steven Simko

LIFE IS GOOD!!!!

off to Nashville for another shoot. full YMCA and spin class report for sure...

IN REGISTRATION NEWS...

good thing i registered for IM Brasil just about 2 months ago!!! i had already decided on Brasil before last year's race even happened, but i had a shot at winning a free trip including race entry. when that didn't happen, i finally threw down the bucks. i also have to comment on what a great design aesthetic this race has. doesn't this just make it look like it's not gonna suck so bad and make you hurt or maybe even puke all over the place??? yeah, then you wake up...


and in marathon news, i wanna thank Rainmaker for reminding me that the lottery window will soon close for the NYC Marathon. it closes next wednesday in fact, so i promptly went on over and threw my name in the hat with all the other 80,000 peeps trying for a slot...



i've had a pretty good run with this lottery having run the race 3 out of the last 5 years. in fact, i really have my eyes on Chicago for this fall. i'd like to see what i can do at a fast, flat course. it's a tradition to sign up for the NYC lottery though. if i get in, i can always defer it to another year. if i don't, it can count towards the 3 strikes rule. with that said, i'd like to send my good luck lottery mojo over to both Rainmaker and Dan, who i know would also love to run this awesome race. my own little way of payin' it forward. it would be cool though if WE ALL RAN IT THE SAME YEAR!!!

LIONS AND TIGERS AND BEARS, GO TRI!!!!

by the time i landed back in La La Land from Denver, i had about 8 missed calls and 1 text. the flight was only 3 hours. what could these people want? what set off the alarm was that 3 of them were from my mom, and 3 of them from my grandma. i went into instant panic mode...

OH NO. PAPA.

my grandpa is 89 now. in his lifetime he has survived polio as a child and later a stroke and prostate cancer. they took his driver's license away from him at least 15 years ago after he plowed into a row of parked cars near his home. this was the saddest day. being Latino and full of machismo, it was humiliating to him to have my grandma chauffeur him around town. he is constantly plagued with gout and arthritis, but this doesn't stop him from taking classes at community college and making his weekly trek on the bus to Downtown LA to light candles at Iglesia Nuestra Señora Reina de Los Angeles, the oldest Catholic church in LA. still though, i panic whenever my grandma calls. i couldn't dial my voicemail fast enough.

grandma vm #1: "honey i just saw something on the news about a shark attack. are you swimming in that ocean?? will you call me as soon as you get this?"

mom voicemail #1: "are you still in Denver? you're not in San Diego are you? can you call me as soon as you get this??

my buddy Edmund: "hey. you heard about this shark attack? Angela (his wife) called me from work and told me about it. you're not in San Diego are you? anyhow, it sounds like it was a guy triathlete swimming in a group. guess this is gonna thin out the pack for your race season and for surfing this summer too. call me."

then the text message came from fellow LA Tri Club member, "Riptide" Ray...

"shark attacked and killed triathlete this a.m. in Solana Beach. Fletcher's Cove"

my reply: "yep. it's the ocean, and sharks live in the ocean."

don't get me wrong. i am very saddened that we have lost one of ours, a triathlete, retired veterinarian, Dr. David Martin. my thoughts go out to his family members and fellow tri club members. loss of life is sad no matter what, but i'll be damned if i'm gonna buy into yet another shark frenzy.

THERE'S ALSO BEARS IN THE FOREST

THERE'S SNAKES IN THE DESERT

LIONS IN THE JUNGLE

but you know what? you're more likely to die in a car accident than be killed by anyone of these awesome creatures.

i have a 2 mile ocean swim on the schedule for sunday. mind you, i live 3 counties away from where this unfortunate incident occurred, so against my grandma's protests, i'll be in the water by 7am.

LIVE YOUR LIFE AS IF EVERY DAY IS YOUR LAST.
THAT'S ALL WE CAN DO.

ROCKY MOUNTAIN HIGH

greetings, my Tri Homies. i write to you from my hotel room in lovely Downtown Denver, Colorado. been here two nights on a shoot. wednesday morning before i left, i knocked out a brick that had me thinking that COACH might be trying to kill me. it went something like this...

ride 30 miles BE1 (maintain 80 RPM and HR in zone 2 with some zone 3)

include 2 x BAN1 - 4 repeats of 2 minutes at zone 4 at 92+ RPM with rest interval of 3 minutes in zone 2 at 80RPM

run 6 miles right off the bike:
2 miles - zone 3
1 mile - zone 5
1 mile - zone 3
1 mile - zone 5
1 mile - zone 2

for the most part, save for some single run sessions of 4-6 miles of repeats, all my running has been long, slow mileage over a long duration. this would really switch the gears, and i get it that it's supposed to lift me right to a perfect peak just before Ironman. still though, i nearly hurled all over that running path. and sadly, i couldn't quite hit zone 5, but just shy of it. for one, i haven't done a week long test of my resting heart rate in quite a while, and i suspect that it may be lower now which would change my zone numbers. and for two, the zone 5 miles happened to fall on more downhill portions of my route which made it incredibly difficult to bring my heart rate up. fyi, did you know that a normal adult female resting heart rate lies somewhere between 74-78 BPM?? adult men are 71-75. i have fitness related Bradycardia (it's a good thing), so mine rests anywhere between 47-52. Lance's is 36. we make medical professionals REALLY NERVOUS!!! anyhow, i got to the upper end of zone 4 with smoke comin' outta my ass from my legs turning over so fast....but i did it.

and then i missed my flight...

there i was at LAX with ALL THE GEAR for the next morning's shoot and the lead photographer already in Denver for 3 days scouting locations. for the first time, i'd let training overtake everything else and possibly jeopardize a very expensive shoot. i felt a pit in the bottom of my stomach as the check-in kiosk read "IT IS TOO LATE TO CHECK IN BAGS FOR THIS FLIGHT. PLEASE SEE AN ATTENDANT." then the attendant told me i had to pick up the black phone to talk to a ticketing agent and see what other flight possibilities were available.

me (to myslef): "remember what your moms taught you. don't be havin' an attitude at the airport, especially when it's your fault, not theirs. KILL 'EM WITH KINDNESS"

so that's just what i did, and sure enough, Alicia from Delta airlines saved my ass. now i'd have to fly to Salt Lake City first, but i'd make it to Denver just 2 hours later than originally scheduled. of course it would cost me a cool 100 bucks. DOH!! another withdrawal from The Bank of Ironman.

finally made it to my hotel by 10:30 that night. i'd brought my swim gear, my run gear, and as much as y'all know how much i loathe even the thought of it, my spinning shoes. come to find out that the Downtown Denver YMCA doesn't have a pool, so i took it as a sort of a mid-week recovery. i crashed hard, and managed to drag my ass to a spinning class at 6:00 the next morning before our shoot started. i wanna thank Coach Liz for helping to make the distinction between a spinning class and an indoor cycling class, but it all sucks just the same to me if i'm not on my own bike. still though, i had one of my better indoor cycling experiences. no the music still sucked, including the cd continuously skipping (ever heard of an ipod?) and having to hear 2 songs from my ex boyfriend's band (they just LOVE them here in Denver). and the bikes REALLY sucked, but the instructor had just gotten back from a cycling trip in France, so she ingeniously took us on a route she rode while she was there. without a fancy video screen or any other virtual aids, she simply had a list of the names of the towns along the way and admittedly massacred the pronunciation of each and every one of them while she described the switchbacks and the rolling sections, the descents, and the smell of all the countryside herbs. no disco fest, no jumping outta the saddle and doing silly shit with our arms, and NO WOO HOOOING. we just rode through an hour and a half in a little room in Downtown Denver masqueraded as the Provencial countryside. LOVED.IT.

the shoot went super long as we traipsed all over Denver and then up into Golden for some more outdoorsy location stuff. the drive up there made me pine for my bike big time. there were cyclists everywhere!! but i had a job to do. made it back to the hotel around 8pm and politely declined the band's invitation to go for wrap party drinks. crashed out by 10:oo and got up early this morning to go back to the Y for a yoga class or should i say...

YOGAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!

oh man, it's been weeks since i last hit up my regular yoga practice with Sahara, and i realized just how much i needed it. everything is super tight and wound up especially after last weekend's race. i've been too broke for extra luxuries such as massage and acupuncture, but at this stage in Iron Madness, i need to look at those not as luxuries but as necessities for basic health and maintenance. so i'm gettin' paid before i land in LA, and on my way back home from the airport, i'll hit my Y for my swim workout and then schedule a much needed massage with my savior, Nang, at Pho Siam.

this weekend brings a 75 mile long sustained hill climb ride saturday. sunday brings another brick of a 2 mile ocean swim followed by a 17 mile run. i'll need to crunch that in and rush home to shower and primp. if all goes as planned, by 2pm, i'll be seated at Simko and Sue Ann's wedding ceremony!!!

I'M WEARIN' MY LUCKY DRESS...

THE RETURN OF THE HUMP DAY HAIKU!!!

hotel newspaper wrappers make for great ice bags!!!

the race is over

if you plan to walk again
don't skip the ice bath

WEEKEND RECAP: RAGE IN THE SAGE HALF IMORHOW I PISSED MYSELF (TWICE) AND LIVED TO TELL

well well well. where do i start? first, let me state for the record that this race was not my first choice. i got locked outta Oceanside 70.3 as it sold out in record time. then i panicked. i could not have IM Brasil be MY FIRST TRI OF THE SEASON!!! but even in sunny SoCal and the Southwest region for that matter, there aren't that many early season HIMS to choose from. before Rage announced that they were offering a new half iron distance, i googled and could only come up with Australia, Chile, and something somewhere outside of Fort Worth, Texas that may as well have been Mars. with everything i'm spending to get to Brasil, i couldn't travel that far for a warm up race. then i searched a little bit more and almost signed up for the Napa Vintage Half. 8 hour drive, and a cheap hotel might be doable. plus, BOLDER would be there!! i was waiting to hear from a friend who had done it, and in the meantime, Rage announced their new distance. SUUWEEEET!!!! only a 4 hour drive to Vegas AND i have family to stay with there. yeah, that all sounds great until gas prices went up so friggin' sky high AND said family were leaving on vacation and had already planned to have other family stay while they were gone. but then another uncle pulled through and hooked me up at the MOST POSH HOTEL. still though, i got reamed so bad at the pump (ok, that didn't come out right) that i'd a picked anyone up off the side of the road if they were willing to throw down some bucks towards my tank (that didn't come out right either)!!!

after a 60 mile ride on thursday with 6 hill repeats of 8-10 minutes, i realized i wasn't gonna make the 2 o'clock departure time, so at that point, i had to stall and ride out the rush hour(s) of traffic, waiting until 9pm to finally hit the road. rolled into Posh Hotel at about 1:30 in the morning with no plans but to sleep in and find my way to the nearest YMCA the next morning and knock out a golf swim, then make my way to the expo when it opened at 2pm, then drive the bike course. i've come to learn that i do much better if i at least survey the bike course ahead of time, ya know, get any surprises outta the way. turns out i shoulda also surveyed the run course, but i'll get to that later...

so in my near sleep state as i was unloading my car of all tri crap at the Posh Hotel lobby, i asked the bellman if by any chance the pool was big enough to do laps in. low and behold it turns out that Posh Hotel HAD A SEPARATE LAP POOL IN THE SPA AREA. NICE!!! so i slept in 'til 10am. for the record, i cannot recall when i last slept in until this mortal hour of 10am. it was pure luxury. walked down to the pool area and here's where everyone else was hangin' out...


not a lap pool
yeah, i spent about as much time as it took to take this picture in the pool/lounge area the entire stay. still though, check out where i got to knock out my laps...


a little shy of 25 yds.
the staff said it was a 25 yard pool, but i knew that couldn't be right when it only took me about 13 strokes to get across it. they were right though. it was a 25 yard pool, but you see that posh donut hole of a sculpture that some posh architect thought would be cool to put right in the middle?? yeah, so if i swam AROUND that and through the small sliver to either side, well that's were the full 25 yards and my extra 2 strokes would be. um, yeah, i can just see it now. i scrape my face all up or, god forbid, bang the already tenuous frozen shoulder up. fuck it, 13 strokes will have to do. the peeps you see on the side there were clearly trying to have a peaceful tanning/reading sesh away from the beach blanket rave goin' on across the way, so i was very conscious to swim on the right side so as to not splash them or their laptop. but when it became abundantly clear that i was gonna be there a while, they kept mad doggin' me.

IT'S A LAP POOL. I'M DOIN' LAPS. I'M GONNA BE HERE AT LEAST AN HOUR.

DEAL.WITH.IT.

after my swim session, i went upstairs and showered and hit the Whole Foods for lunch and to stock up on all things Paleo (more on that soon) and clean carby for my pre-race breakfast and post-race pig out. then it was off to the expo...


a casino parking lot filled with crap i don't need
it was all pretty standard: i.d. and USAT card please, confirm all the info is correct, here's your goody bag, what size shirt do you want?, sorry we're out of smalls, but here's a XXXL, you can add it to your other race nightgowns, your wave starts at 6:10am, take a look at the course maps over there, get numbered over there, no you don't have to get numbered now, but do it yourself cuz we're not numbering tomorrow morning, HOLD UP A MINUTE....

6:10am

6:10AM

SONOFABITCH!!!

i don't think i've ever raced a triathlon that started so early. i'd have to survey the bike course and head straight to bed to get my 8 hours in, but ya know that didn't happen...


a finish line or a mirage??

made it out to Lake Mead where i ran into fellow LA Tri Club member, Jan Schmitt, who was racing his first HIM. we surveyed the finish area as we discussed the strategy for the hills. i told him that for the rollers, if he got a good top speed on the downhill, he could get halfway up the next roller before he'd have to start pedaling again. he thanked me, and then we went our separate ways. i headed down to look at the water.... um, yeah, maybe these pics shoulda been the first indication of the conditions to come the next day...


the transition chute sponsor banners fly horizontal


dust storm anyone??
now none of this had come as a surprise. i always check the weather leading into race week. then i start checking it hourly to see if it's changed at all. it didn't and pretty much held on with these numbers:

85 DEGREES

25 MPH WINDS

SONOFABITCH!!!

then i headed out to survey the bike course. i wanted to know every twist and turn and possible "eat-shit" dip in the road. i decided to drive it with a little attitude, so i grabbed for the ipod and put on R.L. Burnside. oh yeah, nothin' like some Mississippi Delta Juke Joint Blues to make you feel like YOU.OWN.IT.

i got a ass pocket o' whiskey
and a front pocket o' gin
if you don't open this door
i'll kick the motherfucker in...

nuff said, thanks for the inspiration, R.L.

the light was getting low and golden, so i snapped these. i wanted something to help remember the scenery since I'D BE FLYIN' BY IT THE NEXT MORNING!!!




look at the rich red soil!!



the long and winding road..

i've said it before, i'll say it again, the desert is a magical place!!!

my mom surprised me and flew in to watch me race since she can't be in Brasil. i love love love her that she did this, but in all honesty, it kinda messed with my mojo. i was getting grumpy trying to change out my wheels to my race tires, and i still needed to mix my food up for the next day, and i really wanted to be in bed by 9:00. she didn't get in from the airport 'til about 8:30 and we waited too late to eat. after dinner, i still had to lay everything out, and that kept me up 'til about 11:00 with the alarm set for 3:30. 4.5 hours would just have to be enough...

next morning i woke up with no problem, but my mom was taking her sweet time. she was still putting on makeup when i was ready to go. i told her i was leaving and she could either do her makeup in my car or stay behind and drive herself, but I.WAS. LEAVING.NOW. needless to say, she put her makeup on while we waited the 20 minutes for the race directors to open the parking lot. and don't think i'm the only punctual nerd on race day. there were at least 8 cars ahead of me. DOH!!!! i made a beeline for the transition area with my bike. didn't even take the time to put the front wheel on, just ran with the frame and put it on the first spot on the designated rack, then walked back to the car for the rest of my crap.


me 'n moms

at this point, i don't know what came over me, but i just took my sweet time, asking someone to take a pic of me and moms, chalking up the aisle for all the ladies on our rack, eating MORE breakfast, then a good luck poop, and then OH SNAP!! 10 minutes to go, i don't have my wetsuit or sunscreen on, i haven't rubberbanded my shoes to my bike OR set up my aero drink bottle. just then, Krista, aka Tri-DogMom, spotted me and came over to say hi. she was racing the Oly and her hubby, Shane, was also racing the Half. Krista, if you're reading this, I'M SO SORRY I WAS IN SUCH A RUSH AND DIDN'T GET TO TALK!!!

THE SWIM



who's cold?? i'm not cold!!

the swim was a mass start of everyone, male and female, doing the Half distance. i had taken a look at the participant roster that listed roughly 130 people doing the Half (only 20 women!), but unless about 50 people were running later than me to get to the water, it was a way smaller field than that. i ran into Krista's husband, Shane, just as i was putting on my cap and getting into the water to warm up. funny, everyone kept freaking out about how cold the water was, but i musta been used to it. the water temps were supposedly somewhere around 61 degrees, and i've been swimming in 57-59 here in the Pacific Ocean for over a month now!! the swim got off to a late start which had me bobbing in the water a little longer than i prefer, but i got a chance to chat with fellow LA Tri Clubber, Alan Morelli. the guy is so fast, insanely fast swimmer (first outta the water in 33:55.5 including t1!), and eventually placed 7th overall at age 47!! he was super calm and we talked about Brasil. he hasn't raced it, but his training partner and tri studette, Claudia Campos, has nothing but great things to say about it.

once we got going, i warmed up pretty quickly. as usual, i felt restricted in my wetsuit, like i'm getting an extra weight workout to the upper arms from the constriction of the rubber sleeves. once i got used to that, i got into a groove. my only goal in the swim was to swim as fast as my form would stay good. i kept focusing on the notes i'd gotten at my last Triathletix video session last year with Ian Murray: 1. wider entry of the arms. upon entry, i tend to slide my arms dead center down the front of my face which looks good, but it doesn't allow for a very steep and deep catch. 2. steep and deep catch. shoulder above elbow, elbow above wrist, wrist above fingers. this allows for the deepest and most successful catch through the water. 3. quicker breath to the side. i tend to take a long glide to breath, with my face turning up to the sky and almost looking behind me which then causes my left arm in particular to drop its good catch form. now i just barely lift my face out to the side with the goal of just one eye out of the water (i envision an alligator), quick deep breath, and then back to the catch arm. and lastly, i wanted to hone in my sighting skills. the buoys were bright ass orange and green, so it made it pretty easy. my goal was to not stop to breast stroke so much to sight, but to take my gaze forward on a breath and sighttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifht the buoys. if i found myself losing concentration out there, i'd just check in with all my points: wider entry, steep and deep, breathing with one eye outta the water, sight that buoy and KEEP MOVING!!! without saying what my time goal is for IM Brasil, mostly because COACH won't even have the discussion with me yet, i did have a goal time of 38 minutes for the Rage swim. came in at 40 and some change. so sue me...

THE BIKE

up to t1 and i already felt like i had to pee, yet i ran past an entire row of porta potties. i have no idea what my issue was with the porta potties, but i just didn't wanna stop, like i was racing or something!!! it wasn't a very long run to my bike, but the run to the bike mount line was at least 80 yards away and on an incline of slightly rocky asphalt. i didn't wanna wear socks for the bike, and i didn't wanna crush my calves by running uphill in my cleats, and I DIDN'T WANNA WALK, so my only option was to rinse off my feet at the rack and run barefoot with my shoes clipped onto the pedals and rubberbanded to stay in place. funny, they recently showed Andy Potts doing this on race morning during the tv coverage of the Clearwater 70.3 World Championships! i didn't pick up much debris on my feet to the mount line and i was off...

ok, let me pause for a second here and state again for the record that I LOVE MY MOM, and i was so happy to have someone there cheering just for me as that is not usually the case. i handed off my camera to her, set up up for what the lighting conditions would be most of the day, showed her how to use the pop-up flash, showed her how to zoom the lens, and asked her to try to catch as many LA Tri peeps that she could as i do at races. howevah, it was made abundantly clear that I DID NOT GET THE PHOTO GENE FROM MY MOTHER. as evidenced in this picture...


huh??

god love her, but what was she seeing here?? i know, i know, i gotta cut her some slack. i take for granted that i'm able to watch and see things occur through a lens, but my mom musta been overwhelmed with wanting to both watch the action and try to actually take pictures at the same time. so i get this picture, but what my mom was observing about her genius child at that instant was that i ran around all the cluster fuck at the mount line and didn't mount for another 10-15 yards. hey, nobody says you HAVE to mount your bike right after the line, just as long as you're past the line. same thing with coming in. if i ever get a flat in the last half mile of a race, i'm not changing the tire. if i weigh my options, the fastest i can change a tire is about 5 minutes, and under the duress of race conditions, perhaps longer, or i can run in with the bike. fuck it. i'm running it in. the rules don't say you have to have two working tires or that you have to be ON your bike when you come back to t2. you just have to come across the line WITH your bike. food for thought. ok, i digress...

my bike was set in a small gear to spin up the half mile driveway to the main highway. this gave me a chance to catch my breath and get my feet in my shoes. then up on the highway, and IT.WAS.ON. my goals on the bike were simple: maintain between 85-90 rpm, eat on the 15's, salt on the 30's and HAVE SOMETHING LEFT FOR THE RUN!!! i purposely set my computer to only display duration, heart rate, and cadence. didn't wanna even think about speed. it wasn't too hot or windy yet, so i needed to hustle before it picked up. my hamstrings felt a little tight, maybe from the cold water temps and that i didn't really get a warm up run in, so i really had to focus on spinning at 90 rpm 'til my hammies felt normal again. the rollers began, and i was havin' a blast. keepin' my cadence high and spinning the uphills and then FLYING LIKE A BAT OUTTA HELL on the downhill!!! this gave me the speed to not really have to pedal 'til about a good 3rd of the way up the next uphill. and so this continued 'til we got to the first major turn where the olympic distance peeps turned around, but we turned right and kept going. after the turn came a ginormous downhill. i pedaled 'til my cadence hit 110 and i had no more resistance in the pedals and then i just let it all fly. all i could think was, "oh my god, this is so fun, but this is gonna suck balls to have to come back up. SAVE SOME FOR THE WAY BACK, GIRL!!"

i cat and moused with one skinny bitch for a while. she would fly past me on the uphills, and i would fly past her on the downhills and the flats.

SB: "wow, ok so i guess you like to go downhill."

me: "honey, i'm a big-boned black girl. that's about all i can do on this bike. plus, you're not in my age group, so it's ok if you pass me, but see that guy up there?? he's younger than both of us, and he's burning out quick, so LET'S GO GET HIM!!!"

she laughed and then we attacked. this poor 27 year old guy was just mashing uphill, and you could tell he was pissed that he was getting chicked out on this course. i really don't like to mess with people on race day, but this musta been his first half, cuz we were way too far back in the pack for him to be mashing and huffing and puffing the way he was. he clearly didn't know howhttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif to conserve, and he'd be lucky if he had any legs left for the run. i even found myself getting too competitive with skinny bitch and had to let her pass as i slowed for my next feeding. i passed just about every aid station. didn't need anything really. i had all my Perpetuem mixed into two gel flasks, an extra pack of Luna Moons, my aero bottle and two more bottles filled with Gatorade Endurance and Carbo Pro, and another bottle filled with plain water. if i found it to be so hot that i drank more than i brought, i'd grab for the Gatorade at an aid Station, but so far i was cool. made it to the turnarouhttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifnd without incident, but i was starting to feel the wind. heading up the next significant hill climb, i realize my break was rubbing. great!! how long was it like this?? no worries, adjust it and move on.

in passing every aid station, i passed every porta potty too, and there was really no opportunity to pull over on the road and pee behind anything. it was bad enough that i was wearing my thinner tri shorts. and for the record, Coach Liz, Momo, and , you all must have HooHaas of Iron, cuz there's no friggin' way i'm wearin' my tri shorts on the bike for Ironman. nope. not gonna do it. no amount of Aquaphor or Chammy Butter is gonna help either. I NEED ALL THE PADDING!!! but for this shorter distance i thought i'd be fine in them. that's what i've worn for all the other HIMS i've done. but between the light tri shorts padding and the weight of my full bladder, i couldn't take it anymore. still though, i didn't want to stop and get off my bike and go in a porta potty. i wasn't even racing this thing. what was my problem?? next thing i know, before i can even pass the next porta potty, i musta not been paying attention to my gearing and my chain slipped. had to get off the bike anyway, but there was a large bank to the side of the road. no place to go and hide to pee. i couldn't hold it anymore. nobody coming in either direction, so i just held on to the saddle with one hand and the bullhorns with the other and squatted down to pee. i was right on the side of the road, so i couldn't even pull down my shorts. just had to let it all out down the sides of my legs and into my shoes. just then some young looking guy came by. it was a slight incline, so he wasn't flying.

young looking guy: "you alright?"

me: "yeah, just needed a pit stop"

ylg (realizing now what exactly was going on): "OOOOOOOOOH........"

so there you have it. another right of passage. i pissed myself. as gross as it was, I FELT SO MUCH BETTER!!! used my bottle of plain water to rinse everything off as best i could, and i was back in business.

made it back to the killer climb i was anticipating and low and behold, i kept a good spin going and even passed some peeps. i came up on this 52 year old lady who had passed me a few miles earlier...

me: "hey, this climb isn't so bad after all. we're gettin' up it just fine!!"

52 year old lady: "yeah, well the worst is yet to come..."

me(to myself): "way to keep it positive you old bag..."

me: "don't we turn right at the top?"

old bag: "yep, we still don't get to head home yet..."

me: "yeah, but it's only to that toll booth and then we turn around"

ob: "yeah, and then the worst is yet to come"

me: "wait, i see two people turning left heading back, and there goes another one, and there's a volunteer directing them"

ob: "can't be. the map says we're supposed to turn right to the toll booth"

me: "and there's an arrow also pointing to the left. guess they changed something about the course."

ob: " i hate when they change stuff on race day!!"

me(to myself): "i hate negative old bags.."

me: "who votes for turning left??"

sure enough there was the 27 year old guy who'd mashed to pass me way before the turn around. he was toast now and gave a big resounding "hear! hear!!" voting to go left with me. old bag followed and fell behind as did the 27 year old guy, but soon we hit the wind, and old bag passed me up one last time, never to be seen again, or so i thought...

the wind caught me good, and even though i was letting it all fly on the downhills, i curiously switched my computer to show speed for a second, and it read 16mph. my bike immediately felt like two pieces. my front end where i tried to hold a little weight and keep from blowing over and then the back end with my Hed3 race wheel which felt like a sailboat rudder switching directions all over the road. i would pick up some speed and then the wind would catch my back wheel, but if i relaxed and just went with it, it felt like the back of my bike was turned while the front was headed straight still. weird sensation, but kinda fun to navigate!!

the last incline was about 8% and the wind was still whipping pretty fiercely, but i still felt good, my nutrition felt spot on, and i just needed to chug up to the turnaround and then it would be a downhill, wind-at-my-back last two miles to t2. still heading up, there went old bag on the other side heading back down. i could care less about catching up with her. after the turn around, it was TIME TO FLY AGAIN!!! oh man, i love fast descents!!! i just tucked and wooo hoooed all the way down. just before the turn off of the highway, i started to come out and on top of my shoes. there was my mom, cheering me on as i entered the park area. i could barely look over and smile, but i was soooo happy she was still there and hoping she was taking care of herself too, hydrating and keeping her blood sugar level (she's diabetic).


INCOMING!!!

back into transition and all the other bikes were already on the rack save for one. i could care less. i wasn't racing this thing. it was a long training day, and most importantly, i wanted to get through it without incident or injury. fellow LA Tri Clubber Chris Rosien had finished the Oly and stopped to cheer me on while i racked my bike and changed into my shoes. i felt like i was last and taking forever with all the shorter distance peeps already walking their bikes to their cars...

THE RUN

again, i wished i coulda surveyed the run course before hand, but that woulda been impossible as IT WAS ALL TRAILS and not very well advertised as such. the first mile was an uphill for about a 3rd of a mile out of the beach area. just as i was about to make the turn up onto the first flat section, i could hear them announce the male winner of the Half. wow, that's lightnin' fast in these conditions. legs felt a little wobbly so i decided on a very conservative 4:1 run walk until i could get them back to a good stride. first mile clocked in at 11:15. kinda slow, but again, an uphill and that's probably about where i'll be for Ironman, so all good practice. the slower stragglers from the Oly were still heading back as well. one poor kid looked dazed and was diminished to a slow shuffle. i passed him just as we got to what i'd like to refer to from here on out as "the turn up into hell." at the aid station just before the turn, i caught up with the old bag..

ob: "hey you caught me."

me: "yeah, well i'm a runner more than a cyclist."

she took off towards the turn up into hell but i stalled with pouring water all over me to give me some cooling relief. the dazed kid was asking the volunteers if he was still on the Oly course as he had mistakenly followed the better part of the Half Iron bike course before he realized he'd gone too far. really?? think after 2 hours maybe you missed something? so we headed into hell and he drifted behind me. when i say hell, i imagine hell to be a washed out gully filled with big rocks and uneven surfaces every inch of a 2 MILE UPHILL. add to that about 4 inches of hot, red sand, and yeah, i think that's what hell probably looks like. and i ran it (sorta kinda). at this point i woulda had my legs back to a good stride, but the uneven footing and the rocks coming up through the soles of my shoes were killing me. at one point i nearly rolled my ankle trying to hop from one section to another and i had to slow it down. it just wasn't wort it to sprain my ankle a month out from Ironman. so i took it down to a 30:30 ratio all the way up hell. i watched the old bag drift further and further away as she kept turning around to see if i was attacking. go on, old bag, YOU roll YOUR ankle, but at your age, your bones will take longer to heal!!! i noticed that the mile markers no longer indicated the Oly course so i turned around and yelled to the dazed kid that he'd now also ran too far. he looked mortified. imagine coming out to do your first olympic distance tri and doing juts about a Half Ironman instead?? the fast guys were flying back down past me to the finish line. then i saw a guy from the Outlaws nearly eat it. he kinda stumbled but caught himself before he totally ate shit.

me: "yo ok??"

outlaw: "yeah, i'm fine, but this course is crazy!!"

me: "please tell me it levels out."

outlaw: "yeah it does but not for another mile and a half or so."

me: "did we sign up for Xterra by mistake?"

outlaw: "hey, i've done Xterra before. this is way worse..."

me: "greeeeeeat..."


at the top of hell was another aid station and once again, the old bag...

ob: "you caught me again!!! i saw you walking!! how'd you catch me??"

me: "for one. i'm not trying to catch you. for two, i'm a runner. i know how to pace myself. i know when to hold back and when i can turn it on."

ob: "yeah. i can't turn it on at all on these trails. if i'd a known it was gonna be trails, i'd never have signed up. these trails are miserable, just miserable..."

i start to pour more water on my head and on my top and down my back trying to avoid my shoes

ob: "you know, you oughta get some of these cooling sleeves by Orca, there the best. really, they help so much to cool you off. you should get some..."

me(to myself): "really?? now you're gonna be my mom?? SHUT YOUR PIE HOLE LADY!!!!"

at this point i had to either let her go or turn it on and get out ahead of her. i cold not stand one more minute of her complaining and bossing me around, so i chose the latter. turns out she was just the motivation i needed to find my legs again and pick it up. the trails flattened out and now we were running along a more smooth section called The Railroad Trail that was constructed to facilitate the building of Hoover Dam with gorgeous views of lake Mead below and all the sailboats out. then came the 5 tunnels, these dramatic tunnels cut into the mountainside, our only shade the whole day. at every aid station, i stopped to pour more water on me, and the bag would catch up every time all the way to the turnaround. finally i just skipped one to gain a little distance on her and also skipped my walk breaks and instead ran the majority of the way back. then i got to a tunnel and i asked a lady who was just on a leisurely hike if she'd do me a favor an look behind me to see if there was a woman in blue wearing some ridiculous white sleeves. she said no, there was nobody behind me, so i stopped and soaked up the shade of the tunnel and then picked it up again. felt strong coming back. ain't it crazy how you always feel strong when you're on the way home?? at the lsat tunnel i saw the 27 year old guy STILL ON HIS WAY OUT. i gave him a high five and told him to hang in there, that there was no more uphill (kinda sorta). and then..

oh man, i gotta pee again. i cannot stop for the porta potties and let the old bag catch up with me. there's just 4 miles left. i think i can hold it...

i run a few more yards..

dammit, i can't hold it. so i looked for the largest sage bush i could find and just squatted down and let it all go. again, no time to let my shorts down. it just went all down my leg. at the next aid station i took about 10 cups of water and poured it all down my nether regions. it felt awkwardly good, and i was ready to make the turn back down into hell. this time going downhill felt easier, but i still took it easy, not wanting to fall or roll an ankle. at the bottom the volunteer kids were asking ME how many people were out on the course. maybe 10 or 12 i thought.

coming up on the last big hill before the finish, i caught up with Jan Schmitt, and he wasn't doing too good. i'd come out of the water before him but then he passed me at about mile 30 on the bike. he's fit and fast, so i thought that'd be the last time i'd see him. this was his first half, a brutal one for your first i thought.

Jan: "than you so much for your advice on how to tackle the hills on the bike. it really helped me, but it was still a very tough day today!!! i've been talking to myself for the last mile, and i'm kind of out of it. in fact, i think you might not be real. i might be dreaming..."

me: "no, Jan, i'm real. i'm here, and it is definitely a tough day. in fact, i'll walk up this last hill with you. hey look, there's the mile 11 sign!!! 2 miles left. we know how to run 2 miles don't we??"

Jan: "we sure do. you're my angel!!"

at the top of the last incline we reached another aid station where yet another woman asked ME how many people were still out on the course. with 2 hours still to go 'til the cutoff and nobody heading outbound on the course, it was a little disconcerting to have so many volunteers express their impatience while i was trying to finish a race. hey, it's a long day out there for me AND you, so HTFU and hang on 'til the end. you got plenty of water and snacks here. what's your damage??

i said farewell to Jan, told him to pour some water on himself to cool off and then took off for the last 2 miles. still no sign of the old bag. maybe she got sucked up by her Orca cooling sleeves??? the last two miles i felt strong, had a nice turnover going, and was READY TO BE DONE!!!! i looked back one last time and saw Jan behind me and the old bag gaining on him. i motioned with my arm to "come on and let's finish this!!!" there was my mom with the camera waiting at the line. the announcer said i looked strong and there was plenty of food still here for me. take a look at my expression when he said "food"...


did you say FOOD??


the final stretch!!!

crossed the line, grabbed for a water and a slice of pizza and then turned around to watch Jan come in just a little over a minute after me. he was so happy and excited to be done!!! then i waited for the old bag. i figured i should thank her for forcing me to pick it up. of course there was a complaint...

ob: "i got lost out there. i made a wrong turn. i think i did an extra mile or mile and a half..."

still complaining?? some people will never learn...


it's not a dream, Jan, we're done!!!

all in all, i am thrilled with my performance. it was my slowest HIM of the 4 that i've raced, but none of those courses and conditions could compare to what we did out there on saturday. all that considered, i feel strong, i hit all my goals of swim form, nutrition, and being able to run it in. i figure that the Brasil course won't be nearly as challenging in terrain or hills, just A MUCH LONGER DAY. and hey, if i happen to run into any complainers out there, hopefully they'll complain in Portuguese and it'll all sound like poetry to me!!!

SHOE UPDATE:

so check it out. i was planning on using my same shoes i raced in at Im Brasil. i've been on the fence about whether to get new ones, but these aren't too old, and the window to break in new ones to where i like them is pretty much closed. but after the piss and the dirt, they were pretty wrecked. truth is i'm also really broke. there's still so much money to spend before i even get to Brasil, i just can't bring myself to buy another pair of shoes. so back the the Posh Hotel, i tries to wash them out as best i could. what'd ya think??

before

after

nothin' a little hotel shampoo can't fix. fit for an Ironman, wouldn't ya say??

TEASER

today i raced the Rage in the Sage Half Ironman at Lake Mead just outside Las Vegas. this was to be my final warm up race for IM Brasil in, wait, let me look over at the Polar countdown watch, oh great, IN 35 DAYS.

by far, this was the friggin' hardest of all the 4 HIMS i've raced, so i guess a good practice run for Brasil. to give you an indication of just how gnarls it was, here's what my shoes looked like afterwards...

can you wash the desert out of shoes?

and just consider yourself lucky that you can't smell the internet, cuz there's a whole lotta pee up in there too. that's right, today for the first time...

I PISSED MYSELF!!!

TWICE!!!

i'm pretty much totally spent. once i made it back to the hotel, i made a bee-line straight for The Original Pancake House. maybe i'm wrong, but Pigs in a Blanket could quite possibly be the perfect 4:1 carb/protein ratio for post-race replenishment. i don't know what came over me really. i haven't eaten that crap since i was about 10, but it called to me!!! then i made the mistake of sitting at a blackjack table. yeah, note to self: DON'T GAMBLE WHEN YOU'RE FUCKING EXHAUSTED. since then, i've been napping all afternoon in between brief bouts of CNN watching here in my hotel room. to add insult to injury, COACH has a 2 mile open water swim on the schedule for tomorrow. i'm too beat for the 4 hour drive home tonight, so instead i've arranged for a late checkout tomorrow. i'll sleep in 'til about 8, then return to the scene of today's hot, windy, dirty, dusty and pissy crime to hop in the lake and knock it out. then back to the hotel to shower and checkout before i head home.

full race report with ALL THE PISSY DETAILS soon.

WEEKEND RECAP: THE ARIZONA R&D TRIP

i know, i know. even the people who raced got their reports out sooner. this of course will preempt today's HUMP DAY HAIKU. so sue me.

let's just start with OH.MY.GOD. if you're training for your first Ironman and you get the chance to volunteer or observe at another Ironman, TAKE IT. then again, if you're considering signing up for an Ironman but haven't done so yet, maybe don't go watch one first. or maybe you do and you're so inspired that you go straight to the awards banquet the next day and sign up for next year. i bet there's a 50/50 split on that opinion, but i am sooooo glad i'm went to Arizona this past weekend on a bunch of different levels.

THE FUCKER hitched a ride thursday with Iron Maiden Sinta and her crew from Triathlon Connection. i was still house sitting and couldn't make it out 'til friday morning, so i caught a ride with fellow LA Tri Club member and Valley Coach director, Luis Canales and his wife Marielle. we went straight to the expo upon arrival, and my butterflies started as soon as i stepped foot through that friggin' Ironman blow up arch. i'm not even racing, and i'm already getting nervous??


pass THE SALT please!!!
then we headed to the athlete's dinner later that night where i sat in on the pre-race meeting afterwards. they started talking about cutoff times, and i REALLY started to panic. outta the swim in 2:20 from the gun, off of the bike by 5:30pm, but if you don't even make the 3rd loop of the bike by a certain time, you're out. if you're not on the second of three loops of the run by a certain time, you're out. 17:00 hours to bring it home or YOU'RE OUT. not 17:00:01. ok, don't think i'm naive. this wasn't news to me. i've got this crap memorized, but it all seems so harsh when they start reciting it right in front of you. then they go on to say "if you've come to Ironman Arizona because you think it's a flat course, i think you'll be pleasantly surprised." and even if that's true, WHO THE HELL SAYS THAT TO A CROWD OF 2000 ATHLETES LESS THAN 48 HOURS BEFORE GO TIME??? now that's a mind fuck if you ask me....


i'm so confused!!!
i roomed with Iron Maiden Sinta and wanted to be totally focused on her and helping her in any way, but it was best to be out of her way as well. saturday, she would focus on setting up her special needs bags and fine tuning her bike before she turned it into transition. so i got up early saturday morning to hitch a ride with none other than BOLDER HIMSELF!!! yes, yes, y'all, i got to have a bloggy meet up with the one and only. he was in town to support his good buddies, Commodore and Benny, who were racing and to also be a part of a really cool gift bestowed to someone really worthy of it. we drove about 30 minutes to Scottsdale to meet up and ride with yet again more tri bloggers, Melissa, aka MoMo, Krista, aka Tri Dog Mom, Mr. Tri Dog Mom, Shane, and another friend of theirs, Daniel, all doing IM CDA. i only needed to ride 65 miles, and they were going for a full century, so they figured out where i could turn around early and make my way back to where we were parked.

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING PICTURES WERE TAKEN WITH MY CELL PHONE AND YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT CELL PHONE PICTURES. THIS WAS EXCRUCIATING, BUT NECESSARY AS THE NIGHT BEFORE I LEFT FOR ARIZONA, I DISCOVERED THAT MY DIGI POINT 'N SHOOT HAS GONE MISSING. WHO LOSES A CAMERA?? PLEASE PUT GOOD THOUGHTS INTO THE UNIVERSE THAT IT IS RECOVERED BEFORE I LEAVE FOR BRASIL OR I AM DEVASTATED!!!


(l. to r.) Bolder, THE FUCKER, and Krista


Shane, Krista, and Daniel


MoMo!!!
they took us through some GORGEOUS neighborhoods and scenery, including one loop they've named "Tour De Crib" peppered with some beautiful McMansions, but i gotta be honest, these guys were way outta my league!! i held on pretty well for the better part of the ride, and i was able to draft off the back, but as soon as the wind picked up even a bit, and once i slipped away from the pack by even the slightest distance, they just started to drift further and further in front of me. they were great to wait for me though, and once, Bolder even pulled me back to the group, but then we took a turn into a mean wind, and i was struggling even worse. thing is, as much as i don't wanna admit it, my frozen shoulder pain is rearing its ugly head again, and it became increasingly painful to hold aero, and if i couldn't hold aero, there was no way i could stick with 'em. so even before i was supposed to split off, i told them to go on without me. they were all great and encouraged me to keep going with them, but it just wasn't fair to keep having them wait for me when they had so much mileage still to go. so i bid them farewell, and continued back towards where we were parked. i kept a good clip going and then found a nice climb up a street called Via Linda until it dead ended for the last 10 miles. then i stopped at a grocery store for a sandwich and chocolate soy milk and went across the street to a park and watched a little league baseball game while i waited for them to finish their ride. turns out the ladies worked Bold to near death, but i'll let him tell the story... then we drove back to Tempe and said our goodbyes with plans to find each other on race day.


kickin' it with my tri homies


screw the cowbell, MORE SALT!!!

Iron Maidens Cindy (cheerleading), me (cheerleading), Sinta (racing) and Juliet (racing).
not pictured: Iron Maiden Deb
Sinta and her Triathlon Connection crew merged with a few of our LA Tri Club Crew and friends and family, and we threw a pre-race dinner at the condo of one of Sinta's teammates. what a great home-cooked meal and a calm distraction the night before go time. beats sittin' in a loud, crowded restaurant any day!!! those who were racing did two rounds of feeding starting early, and by 7:30 we were on our way back to the hotel for last minute preparations and to get to bed. 9:00pm rolled around, and it was lights out. the alarm was set for 4:00. i knew Sinta was nervous when she asked me to also set my phone alarm for 4:05 in case hers didn't go off. Sweet dreams, Sinta!!!


double check and leave nothing behind!!!
4:00am. Sinta's alarm goes off. she doesn't budge. should i wake her?? no, i'll let the alarm run. she'll wake up on her own. alarm finally stops, and Sinta still hasn't budged. ok, no problem, i'll wait 'til my alarm goes off. finally it does, and still no Sinta. ok, she's starting to squirm, no wait she's just rolling over. oh no, she's still not awake. then another roll over and she slowly sits up, then sits crossed legged in the middle of her bed with her head hung low into her lap. is she stretching? is she praying? is she still sleeping in her lap? i really don't want to impose on her routine. i'm just gonna lay here and not budge and not be in her way. slowly she's up and starting her breakfast routine. i try to just be as quiet an unobtrusive as possible and ready to go when she is. we were just over a mile from the start, but it felt like the longest ride ever. nobody talked, nobody joked. they were all in the zone. the weather forecast called for a high of 95.

95 and winds up to 15 mph.

this wasn't news to anyone. i'm sure people had been watching the weather for weeks, hoping, praying it would change even the slightest, but hopefully they had taken the appropriate precautions. walking towards transition, you could just feel the buzz everywhere. i walked Sinta as far as i could before she went in to triple check her bike. we hugged, and i told her she would be and Ironman the next time we saw each other!!! here was the first of the Iron Maidens going for the 140.6. i still needed to find Iron Maidens Juliet and Deb and any other LA Tri Club peeps i could. watching all the activity made me wish i was racing. i wanted to get it over with. i felt ready, and THAT FELT GOOD.


major bike porn here
scanning transition, the bike porn was OUT OF CONTROL. makes me feel a little inadequate with my aluminum FUCKER, but whatever. it ain't the bike, it's the rider right?? in that case THE FUCKER is screwed!!!! i passed by a guy and overheard him say he was doing IM Brasil. of course i had to chime in that i was doing it too (he was FINE after all). his name is Brody, it'll be his first Ironman as well, and never mind that he was probably in pre-school when i graduated college!! turns out we're both going through Endurance Sports Travel and we're staying in the same hotel. yay, more fun peeps to hang with!!


Michellie gets in her zone
then look who i found sitting all the way on the edge of transition under a tree trying to hide from the hype. it was none other than 2006 winner at both Arizona AND Kona, Michellie Jones. i can't say enough how much i idolize her. she's just good peeps ya know? we made eye contact and i smiled and wished her a great race. she didn't seem nervous AT ALL, but rather so calm that it could come off as aloof. that's the true sign of a honed triathlete. they not only have the physical strength, but they have the mental strength. they train, they prepare for everything, and then they let it all go, and stay in the moment when the gun goes off. Mike Reilly was already on the mic announcing the last minute race details, and then he summed it all up best when he said "you may not be able to control the heat, or even the wind. in fact the best thing you can do is to let go of what you can't control and focus on what you can control, and that is YOUR ATTITUDE."

WOW

the racers started to pour in, double and triple checking their bikes, getting marked, squeezing into their neoprene and then dropping off their dry clothes bags. the lines for the porta potties got longer. it was definitely on!!! i made my way to the swim start, and look who else i found!!


PHOTO UP BEYOTCH!!!
yep, there's Bolder again and this time armed with his camera. next i saw MoMo and Stronger!!! it was a bloggy morning!!! i went up on one of the bridges to get a good bird's eye shot of the pros swimming out to the start line, and there just behind them on the dock waiting to jump in were all the age groupers, blue caps for the boys, and pink caps for the girls. the pros went off at 6:45 and then they let the age groupers in the water to make their way to the start about a 100 yards away. nice warm up, but then you had to tread water or wait on the banks until go time. check out how this guy chose to wait...


no stress here...
the music is blaring, and Mike Reilly starts his spiel.

"WHO'S DOING THEIR FIRST IRONMAN THIS MORNING?"

"HAVE A GREAT DAY OUT THERE, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, AND WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN, YOU WILL BE AN IRONMAN!!!"

THE CANNON GOES OFF, AND THEN IT'S ON.


hey, ma!!! look at me!!

hey, who grabbed me??

my next desktop wallpaper
the swim is on, and you can spot the people freaking out, not being able to put their head in the water. i wanna just jump in and tell each and every one of them that they're gonna be ok. then there were the back of the packers who were really struggling. one stayed on his back, nearly floating in place. everyone around me watched in amazement, waiting to see if he could flip over and get on his way. finally he did as a big sigh of relief came over the spectators. he was on his way now. no telling if he was gonna make the cutoff, but he was on his way...

then i went and parked myself near the transition bags.


grab and go!!!
LESSON #1 - know where you're bag is and don't wait for the volunteers to find it, cuz they may not be paying attention as your number is called out. i watched several people still stunned from the swim just standing there as nobody was looking for their bag. now if you're trying to qualify, that's precious time. me, not so much, but id' be frustrated if nobody was helping me, so i'm gonna help myself. i'll just be sure to know where my bag is and run towards it. if nobody near is holding my bag out, i'll start scanning the numbers. yeah, it all sounds perfect in theory. think i'll remember that after 2.4 miles??

not much to see as the changing tent is closed off, but i did ask Sinta and others what they were planning to wear for each leg of the race. typically, it's the tri kit the whole way through a shorter race, but tri shorts for 112 miles?? OH.HELL.NO. so then it's a question of what to wear under your wetsuit. i'll do what Sinta did. i'll wear my tri top and a separate bathing suit bottom for the swim leg, then change into fully padded bike shorts and keep the tri top for the bike leg. then for the run, i'll still keep the tri top but have a singlet waiting just in case i'm grossed out or irritated in any way at this point and switch out of the bike shorts to my tri shorts. it was a toss up between these and running shorts, but i don't want to risk any unwelcome chafing, and then that eliminates one more place i'll have to apply Body Glide. and yeah, that means stripping naked in the tent. no biggie, they're separated into men's and women's sides just for this very reason. Sinta said she sat down to change and some woman in front of her bent over with her bare ass all out and then some. hey, who said modesty was an Iron Virtue?? GET.ON.THAT.BIKE.


Lamar is looking awesome!!!
i watched everyone i personally knew get off on the bike. some looked happy that the swim was behind them, but for me i'll be sad that the funnest part is now done. the bike is my demon for sure...i caught up with Iron Maiden Cindy to head back to the hotel and knock out our 15 mile run. i plotted a 5 mile loop that would take us through downtown Tempe, ASU, and then back to our hotel to stop and pee and refuel. we didn't get started 'til 10am, and with each loop, it just got hotter and hotter. we knew it was better that we were running together, but there was very little conversation going on. i can't recall the last time i've had such a bad run. for one, i got so caught up in the Iron morning that i didn't stay on top of my own nutrition for this run. sure, i ate when we got up at 4am, but it was now 10am with temps AND winds increasing exponentially. Cindy is definitely a stronger runner than i am, and i felt as though she was having to hold back her run for my dragging ass, but we powered through. each stop at the hotel really messed with me too. the a/c was on in the room, and it would've been so easy to just bag it, but having Cindy there made it harder to just throw in the towel. it took everything in me not to sit down on the bed. i knew that if i did, i was done. by the 3rd loop, i could feel the heat radiating off the asphalt and up through the soles of my feet. each step became more painful than the last, and my shoulder was burning. at each red light i had to dangle it to the ground to try to give it some relief. and then i thought,

"HOLY SHIT. i can't believe they're out there doing an Ironman in these conditions today"

it was time to HTFU. if they were out there doing The Full Monty, the least i could do was get this miserable 15 miles done with and not complain. i found some comfort knowing that i shouldn't experience the same heat in Brasil. now the wind, that's a different story, but again, nothing i can control, so nothing to obsess about. i CAN control where i train in this next month, and i'll seek out some headwind riding on the bike path for the mental toughness more than anything, but the rest is outta my control, so i just gotta stay in the moment.

i made sure to take the time to replenish with a protein drink as soon as we were done with the ride per the Paleo Diet for Athletes (more on that soon), then ice my shoulder, but i was also reduced to having to pop some ibuprofen to get through the rest of the day. not my preference. i hate any pain killers, especially NSAIDS, but if i was gonna make it to midnight, i'd be stupid not to take the drugs.

as i iced and Cindy got dressed, we got our first reports from the field. Iron Maiden Juliet's husband, Eddie, texted us that she had just passed him at around mile 54. we did the math and were immediately alarmed. the wind must be wicked out there, but if she didn't pick it up quick, she might not make the bike cutoff. so we called him back and told him the situation. he needed to find her, to call our other friends out on the course and relay to her that she had to pick it up. we were leaving it up to him as to whether he wanted to stress her out like that, but i couldn't live with myself if she didn't make it and i knew i had a chance to warn her and didn't. Eddie appreciated the info, and said he'd try to catch up with her. then we got another text that maybe it was mile 64 he was at and not 54. um hello?? Juliet is the math teacher in the family, but clearly Eddie doesn't share the same skills, or at least map reading skills. was he at mile 54 or 64?? this was crucial stuff!!!

we ate near the race course in downtown Tempe and raced back to get to watch as many peeps come in from the last loop of the bike. the looks on their faces told the story, the warn and beaten down looks as if nobody could imagine what happened out on that road. they looked so grateful to be done, to make the cutoff. then, there went Sinta!! smile on her face, a good sign. she was in the moment. still waiting for Iron Maiden's Juliet and Deb. with an hour to go, Juliet made it in. dammit to Eddie for his map challenged self. we stressed her out for no reason. but she was smiling, a good sign. 45 minutes to go, and still no Deb. she went out on the bike before Juliet, and Juliet is a stronger cyclist, so it made sense to see her come in before Deb, but we were now down to 30 minutes. where was she? with every yellow helmet, we were relieved, but then it wasn't her. with 15 minutes to go, the first official race support car drives past us with several participants crammed inside. we're not talking a roomy cargo van as you'd expect, but like a small Subaru wagon with people all twisted and contorted inside. WTF???

then Cindy asked, "do you see her in there?"

me: "no. no. no way she's in there."

then it was like the scene at the circus where 100 clowns pile out of a volkswagon bug, as racer after racer undid they're pretzel knotted legs and fell out the doors. just as i thought there couldn't possibly be one more racer coming out, i recognized the LA Tri red white and blue colors, and the yellow helmet.

NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.

i couldn't do it. i just couldn't face her, but we couldn't let her walk back through the excitement of the athlete's village alone, so we ran and caught up with her. amazingly, no tears, not drama. she was just calm as a cucumber. she said she just couldn't fight through the wind, and in the next breath, she was already talking about next time. what an amazing spirit!! you gotta respect that.

we walked down to watch the run, and this is where i started to freak a little. this is where Ironman is decided, and some people were on the brink. there were already some seriously wobbly legs and vacuous eyes, but at least they were still moving forward. i cheered for everyone i could, and you could tell it made a difference to them. in the distance i could hear Mike Reilly already at the finshers' chute, announcing the speed demons..

"Mr. Joe Blow Speed Demon, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!"

Cherie Gruenfeld, most winningest age grouper at Kona, sets a course record!!!
but it was too early to celebrate at the finisher's chute. it was still light out. no way i'd be finishing by now. i needed to go observe the special needs area. i needed to get in touch with where i'd be right about now on the course, and it ain't no finisher's chute. i needed to encourage as many people as i could, because if they could make it, then maybe i'll make it.


Frank Farrar, oldest participant at age 79, sadly dropped out not long after this was taken

the sun started to go down and finally some relief from the elements. hopefully this would turn it around for them out there. i'd cheer and cheer, and some would be appreciative while others could not even take their gaze off the few feet in front of them. these looks scared me. where had it gone wrong for them? still though, THEY WERE MOVING FORWARD. then there were those who would stop and TAKE THEIR SHOES OFF. oh no. no.no.no.no.no. if i do that, i'm done.

LESSON#2 - THE SHOES MUST STAY ON.

smiles are good!!!

Juliet is pulling off a negative split!!!
finally, i spotted Sinta again, still smiling. she said she felt ok, but what was slowing her down was that she had to stop at every porta potty. i've heard the same from Iron Maiden of Honor, Lesley, but for both it eventually subsided. Juliet looked great too. she was actually picking up speed with every loop!!! i still hadn't spotted Luis since he'd come out of the water or Lamar since his second loop of the run. Marielle called to say Luis had made it to the final turnaround of the 3rd loop, so we waited to see him pass before we headed to the finisher's area.


Lamar and Luis bring it home

low and behold, they came in side by side, both keeping the other one going, Luis with his barely trained legs having not ridden more than a 70 miler in training, and Lamar with the extra 428 miles he did on the way to this day. probably not the fastest Ironman for either of them, but definitely memorable!!!

once they passed, it was time to head to the finishers' area. this is where it just got surreal. people walking, people crying, people shaking, people puking. some still even looked strong like they'd got their pacing down perfectly. but most of all, PEOPLE WERE FINISHING!!! people of all sizes and shapes, through the insane heat and brutal wind out on that bike course, were still straggling in. the statistics usually indicate a 10% DNF rate at most Ironman races. today it was more like 15-17% and most on the bike leg, including Bolder's buddy, Commodore. it was just not their day. you can train and prepare and train some more, but at a certain point, the conditions prove to be far too dangerous, and that's when you realize no matter what the cost, it's just not worth your life or your long term health. godspeed to Commodore. he really gave it all he had and more.

LESSON #3 - IT'S JUST NOT WORTH YOUR LIFE

i waited to see our Tri Club member of the year, Renata D'Angelo come in at just under 16 hours (flatted on the bike), and by then, a lot of the speed demons were showered and had also returned to cheer 'til midnight. when i ran up to Renata, she still had that beaming smile and said how sad she was that she wouldn't be able to cheer me on in Brasil, her home country. with just an hour left 'til the final cutoff, i couldn't leave now...


the crowd awaits

who's next???

Mike Reilly, the voice of Ironman, calls out another finisher
Mike Reilly exclaimed that this was one of the fullest set of bleachers he'd seen at any Ironman. we were stomping, clapping, dancing, woo hoooing, pounding on the sponsor panels that lined the chute, anything to let those still out on that dark run course know we were still there waiting for them. as a racer would come in, some were reduced to a slow walk, but then they'd see our outstretched arms waiting to high five them and they'd lift their head and pick it up a little to the line. mind you, for every sweaty, salty, perhaps even pukey high five i got, my anxiety grew for fear i'd get sick, but that didn't stop me. "just don't touch your face" i thought to myself. "and as soon as your ass comes through that hotel room door, YOU MUST WASH THESE MITS!!!"

the 17:00 mark came and went without anybody coming close. they brought back the woman who'd last crossed about 3 minutes earlier and did a quick interview. she said she was thrilled to have at least won SOMETHING. then Mike Reilly asked the course officials if there was anyone still close and would we stay to cheer them on. there was one woman, she came in about 6 minutes late. oddly enough, her name was MONICA and she looked to be a little younger than me. i remembered seeing her all day. i started to cry. that could be me. she came in with her mom running beside her, head down, but we cheered her on and she lifted that head and ran it to the line. don't know if Monica got an official time, but they gave her a medal and a shirt. that's the least they could do i think.

back at the hotel i caught up with Sinta who had showered and was just settling in to go to sleep. we gabbed all night, and of course i wanted to know about every second. how did you feel here? how 'bout there?? what did you eat here?? how 'bout there?? what was the worst part?? what was the best part?? and just as she'd settle down and start to fall asleep she'd jump up and remember another story!! this went on for about two hours, and finally in the last seconds before she drifted off for good, she whispered

TRUST ME, MONICA. YOU CAN DO THIS...

the payoff??
and lastly, THE BEST piece of advice i got all weekend. this from Luis who had this experience at IM Brasil in '05:

EVEN IF YOU THINK YOU'VE SHIT YOUR PANTS, JUST KEEP MOVING.