Not Like Last Year

I'm at my desk at work. It's 8 p.m. on a Friday.  I'll be on call until the wee hours as I head off for a press trip tomorrow in London and assets still need to be delivered.

I'm not complaining at all.  I work for a fantastic company, I love what I do and love my teammates.  I've been incredibly fortunate NOT to have to work late hours for quite a while now, so when I do, I really don't mind.

That's just life.

And it's a lot different from last year, when my luck and timing aligned to allow for a high emphasis on being the best triathlete I could be.

I don't think that's realistic this year.  I essentially have A-races in the life column: Wedding and honeymoon; Busy career year; and an actual Ironman.

Three A-level "life events" are starting to take their toll.  I can't remember the last time I missed two workouts in one week when illness wasn't a factor.  But that's just what happened this week with deadlines looming and a suitcase still waiting to be packed.  It's moments like this when my goal of breaking 12 hours at Ironman Coeur d'Alene seems farther away than ever.  Especially when I'm seeing slow running results from my ever-changing form, as was the case today with a lumbering 5.8 mile run in zone 2 that lasted almost an hour on the dot. And when I'm downing In N' Out Double-Doubles with fries late in the office instead of my personal strength training session, which I skipped.

What to do?

I think the answer is to simply accept that A) it's a busy time of the of the year in my industry, B) I'm lucky to have a job and C) this year ain't nothin' like last year.  I know I've mentioned the latter point before, but watching it unfold with an Ironman less than five months away is a little scary.  What else is coming?

Life, that's what.

This is normal!  Normal people work late hours and have lots of commitments. Abnormal people fit 15+ hours of training in on top of it.  Something's gotta give.

I'm not prepared to give in.  Yet.

How do you do it?  Especially those with families?

Maybe triathlon is a single-person's sport? A sport for those with disposable income and disposable time.   I dunno.

(Apologies if this is a downer.  I know that one of the things the people who read this blog appreciate is my honesty, so I don't want to sugarcoat anything.)

But wait! A silver lining!

Here's what I've learned from training and racing the past year-plus. YOU HAVE TO KEEP GOING!  You have to chip away at the problem.  Don't give up!  Even if the result isn't what we visualized, we still complete the journey.  That means a lot.  There is no shame in that.  No quit in that.  It's no different than those workouts when we just don't want to get in the pool or on the bike, or lace up those muddy shoes.  The results from those workouts are sometimes the best.  Why?  I think it's because there's no expectations involved.  You just shrug your shoulders and pedal.  And then you get there faster than you expected, wherever "there" is.

So that's what I'm going to do.  Shrug my shoulders and move forward the best I can.  I may not get there as fast as I'd like.

But I'll get there.

And I hope to see you there too when I arrive.

144 days and counting.

Get Better

Why do we push ourselves so hard as triathletes? Why do we spend our discretionary income hurting ourselves, mentally and physically?

What do we get out of it?  What are we looking for?

I think the answers to all these questions and more change over time.  We evolve from, "Because I want to know if I can do it," to, "Can I do it again?" to "How good can I do it consistently?"

But still, what's pushing us forward?  Is it desire?  Is it fear?  Is there some outside inspiration that propels us, ala Livestrong?  Does it come from within?  I wondered that today as I was enduring a painful Graston Technique in my ART session where a cold, blunt metal device that resembled a boomerang was being thrust back and forth into what felt like my hip bone.  I winced, grimaced and gripped the chair as I lay prone on my left hip.

Why am I doing this to myself?  What am I trying to prove that's worth all this pain?

For me, that answer, and the motivation that comes with it, changes every day.  It can be a song that fires me up.  An inspirational story pushing me forward.  An insult or jab from someone teasing me.  My coach saying something positive to me.  A trainer encouraging me to squeeze out one more rep.

But for every answer, there's a voice from within that says something.  A voice speaking to me.  "Go farther."  "Try harder."  "Push!"

And even on the ART therapist's table this morning amidst the pain and scowls, the only voice I really heard was, "Get better!"

Maybe that's what it's all about in this crazy sport. "Get Better."  Become a better swimmer.  Recover faster.  Learn something new about yourself. Explore a new trail.

Getting better hurts.  But I think the pain is necessary.

What do you think?

148 days and counting.

Flipping Through Memories

Perhaps you've noticed, but my friend and web developer Ward has been adding features to the blog site.  Popular posts,  recommended stories, "Like" on Facebook, and more is on the way. Soon, you'll see my 2010 race results and a 2011 race calendar (it's a small calendar this year!).  Before I could send everything off to Ward at Drawbackwards, I had to search for all my race results last year, along with  my race reports from each race.  I was reminded how great it is to have a blog, where I can just reach back into the vault and relive memories from races that seem to come and go so quickly.  The race ends, but the words live on.  And the emotions come rushing back.

I know some of you have mentioned that you're either just starting to blog now or are about to begin.  I think the archive of blog posts about your training and racing becomes the real trophies, the truest symbols of accomplishment.  The hardware gets put away in a closet, or maybe hung on a wall.  But lots of people get hardware.  Your story is your own.  What better gift to give yourself?

If you haven't done so lately, go back and check out an old race report.  See where you're at today versus then.  How have you evolved as a triathlete?

158 days and counting.

Avoiding the Lizard Brain

I don't want to write about triathlon training tonight.  I hope you'll indulge me for a moment, especially if you find yourself strapped to a desk during the workday. I've had a big plan to write at work.  I've been putting it off for the past week, often letting the excuse of  how busy it is in the office derail my best intentions.  After all, I felt needed with all the distractions -- whether they were in the form of people visiting my desk, email, phone, etc.

But the bottom line was that the important work wasn't getting done. One of my favorite bloggers, Seth Godin, refers to this as giving into the Lizard Brain.  This is the part of the brain that is purely emotional and often recoils in the face of danger or anything remotely uncomfortable.  I knew that I had more control over my schedule, but that I was giving into my own Lizard Brain by thinking all the distractions were diminishing my productivity.

So, I tried something new.  It may sound shocking, so brace yourselves...

I TURNED OFF EMAIL.

<GASP!!!>

Yeah, I know.  What a concept!  I'm not gonna lie, I had withdrawals.  I felt like I was missing out on fresh information, that maybe I was falling behind the loop of being "in the know."

That lasted around 30 minutes.  Then, I practically forgot about email.  And while I did check periodically throughout the day, turning off my email enabled me to enjoy one of my most productive days at work in several months. I researched, developed and produced my plan.  Finally.  And I even responded to the most important emails of the day after that, not to mention picking up the phone to call people to cut down on email traffic.  What a concept!

Let's turn this back to triathlon for a moment.  What is your Lizard Brain preventing you from confronting?  What should you be working on in your training that you're avoiding?  How can you reduce your distractions to focus on what's important?  What can you do to control your situation more effectively?

Don't give into the Lizard Brain.  It's slowing you down.

161 days and counting.

Controlling the Uncontrollable

This ain't no 2010. Work is busier.  Multiple projects are shipping this year.  That means multiple business trips, something I didn't really have to contend with much last year, especially in the final six months of Ironman training.  Not so now.  In February, I'll be in London, Las Vegas and San Francisco.  March will see me in Austin, Texas (South by Southwest), and two weeks before my Ironman I'll be at the video games industry's largest trade show of the year, E3.  That will be great for my immune system.

I knew how lucky I was last year as the days went by.  Neither my job nor my personal life really interfered with my training.  It's only my second day back in the office from a prolonged break, and oh how things feel different already.  Though maybe the head cold I picked up while traveling in San Francisco for New Year's is contributing to that.

So what to do?  How to overcome?  I just spent a half-hour today talking to my team about finding new ways to look within to control a scenario -- even when they think things are beyond their control.  For example, instead of lamenting being sick at an inopportune time, maybe rest and nutrition played a factor as well.  Two things one can generally control.

So what can I control given my more demanding schedule?

-- How early I wake up to train.  Maybe I have to get up sooner to ensure I fit both workouts in before work so I can stay later in the evening if need-be.

-- What time I go to bed.  This may be tougher since Steph and I both work fairly long days and don't see each other much during the week as-is.

-- What I eat during the day, and at what times, to ensure I have sustained energy.

-- Accepting that I won't be able to complete every workout like I used to.  I need to be smarter.  I need to listen to my body more, especially now with some creakier knees.

-- Following workouts more closely and less freelancing.  My tendency would be to pack more intensity into each workout to make up for lost ground or time.  But I know the body doesn't train that way, even more so now that I'm reading Joe Friel's book, Your Best Triathlon.  I'll write more about that another time, but so far it's super helpful in filling in the blanks between the how's of training and the WHY.

I'll try to think of more ways I can control this situation, but if you have ideas based on what's worked for you, I'd love to hear them.

167 days and counting.

A Rant and a Bet

Yesterday I indicated I'd write about resolutions for the new year.  But I need to rant first for just a second. Sometimes I just don't know which expert to listen to when it comes to keeping me healthy and strong.  Does that ever happen to you?  I've got workouts from Coach Gerardo.  I've got a carefully crafted strength-building regimen from the Shan Clan.  I've got a set of exercises to do from my ART therapist, Dr. Ben.  I've been going to a deep stretch yoga class where the instructor showed me one set of exercises for hip openers and today I went to another yoga class where the instructor told me essentially the opposite of what the Shan Clan and Dr. Ben were advising.

Who the heck am I supposed to listen to!?!?!

Today's conflicting advice came courtesy of a well-intentioned instructor teaching an Anasura-based mixed-level flow class.  I came into class fresh off my first run in two weeks, a stride-counting exercise where I was tasked with 30+ strides in 20 seconds on a slight hill.  The good news is that my left leg and hip held up fine.  The bad news is that towards the end of my run, I felt a twinge in my right psoas area (where the hip seems to meet the groin) and on the outside of my right knee.  I hadn't even been running 30 minutes.

I told the yoga instructor of my troubles and she paid special attention to me in class, adjusting me regularly in poses I thought I knew well.  It was a humbling but informative experience. But the surprising part came towards the end of class when she told me I needed to stop "clenching my butt" so much in yoga poses and relax more in the glutes.

I've been called a tight ass before, but never quite like that.

What I couldn't understand was why I was being told to do exercises like bridge pose or glute exercises where that's precisely the goal.  So I asked the instructor, and her eyes widened.

"That's the WORST exercise you could be doing for yourself!" she whisper-exclaimed, trying not to disturb the peacefulness of the flow.  "That's exactly why your psoas muscles are as tight as they are!"

Now I'm totally confused.  Has this ever happened to you?  Whose advice should be considered more "expert" than the other experts???  Normally I'd say my coach, but he's not a yoga instructor, nor an ART therapist.

Some days, I can't help but just let out a big sigh at the end of my training day.

***

OK, rant over.

On to the annual empty-promise exercise known as The New Year's Resolution.

I was thinking of generic resolutions (e.g., "spend more time volunteering,") when I read this blog post from "In Over Your Head" (Julien Smith) that my father forwarded to me.  I highly recommend you take a minute to read it too.  The short version: Treat your resolutions like bets.  "This past New Year, you probably had an opportunity to make a bet with yourself. You may see it as a resolution, but that’s not actually what it is. It is a bet, and if you lose, you will actually be worse off than you were before. The opportunity will be gone, and you will have less hope about being able to change. You will have lost the bet, and you should treat it that way."

This really changes how I look at resolutions.  I will take them more seriously moving forward.  If I'm going to say it, there needs to be real skin in the game, so to speak.

After reading that post, I promptly found a Post-It note and wrote the following: "Break 12:00:00 at Coeur d'Alene."  It now sits smack in the center of my bathroom.  Soon there's not going to be any room to see myself on that mirror!

I know how risky this bet is.  I know I'm behind in my training.  I know I'm listening to several masters right now telling me how to restore my health.  But I'm still going to bet myself I can break 12 hours at IM CDA.  And I'm making my bet public.  Let's see what happens.

I'm also going to bet myself that I can volunteer at least nine times this year.  It may seem low, but considering how little I've done in the past it's a huge jump.  My bet  allows me to pick something almost monthly while leaving big "milestone" months alone if need-be (e.g., June (IM CDA), August (wedding), and September (honeymoon)).

What are you going to bet this year?

169 days and counting.

2010: The Ultimate Odyssey

I've posted 345 blogs since starting this journey last November, with at least three-dozen categories.  I've probably analyzed -- over-analyzed, actually -- every detail of my Ironman journey more than most.  And yet I'm having a very hard time encapsulating the past year for my last post of the year. I set big goals and went out and accomplished them, with a lot of hard work. Stephanie and  I resurrected a broken relationship, for the final time.  None of this journey would have been quite as special had I not restored that healthy foundation.  That alone made 2010 a total success.  The completed races, personal-best times, and finishing the Ironman truly fail to come close in comparison.  Make no mistake, I would have been an Ironman without Stephanie.  But I would have thought of her at the finish, every day leading up to that moment, and every day after it.  I would have chased a ghost the rest of my life, the worst kind too.  The "What If?" spectre.

I hate that ghost. I hate "What If?"  So I destroyed it.  And couldn't be happier.

I remember when I started the year though, skeptical whether Fortius Coaching could mold me into a better athlete. Uncertain of my own psyche following a devastating breakup.  I remember Coach Gerardo telling me I wouldn't even recognize myself physically, emotionally and mentally following Ironman.

Now a year later, I know what he meant, though I'm not sure even he thought my transformation would be this profound.  I truly do feel like a different person.  Perhaps this year was the biggest growth year of my life, which is saying a lot since I spent several months backpacking through Europe both with a buddy and by myself to start the 21st Century.  That trip was a deep transformational experience in a different way.  In Europe at that time, pre-Euro currency, pre-"smart" cell phones and everywhere Internet, I was alone.  I had to learn to rely on myself.  I built a foundation for adventure and extended my personal comfort zones way beyond my sheltered suburban upbringing.  I built the foundation for this Ironman journey too, a far more spiritual and metaphorical trip.

I wonder if my 2010 Ironman would have happened if it weren't for my 2001 adventure serving as the stepping stone.

A lot had happened in my life between my 2001 backpacker's walkabout and this year's odyssey.  During that span, I had many adventures, literally all over the world.  While I may have nudged my comfort zones ever further out professionally, and personally, I hadn't really ventured off the grid (in my mind, at least) into the Great Unknown since quitting my job prior to September 11. That spring I quit work, quit my apartment, quit my car payments, and donned a small bag filled with all the contents I would need to live.

50 cities, 12 countries, 90 days.  A different kind of triathlon.

And yet my preparation for and completion of Ironman surpasses even that epoch.  I NEVER expected my journey to Ironman to rebuild what had become an eroded sense of self-confidence, rekindle my passion for writing, stabilize my emotions and provide me with such a supportive group of friends and teammates, not to mention some of you readers out there.

My 2001 odyssey was an escape.  My 2010 odyssey was a gift to myself.

I hope 2011 brings more gifts, but most of all, I hope that if you haven't already you'll reward yourself with such a gift.  We all deserve it.  We deserve abolishing that "What If?" ghost, even if it's only for once in our lives.  To stand at the finish line, real or metaphorical, arms raised, screaming from a primal place, nothing can surpass that feeling. The feeling of personal victory.  It doesn't have to be an Ironman either.  It can be going for a promotion at work, or starting a new career venture, taking a chance with that cute friend you always liked but haven't had the courage to ask out. It can be ANYTHING.

Make the most of 2011.  Pick your Ironman and FINISH IT.

Wipe "What If?" from your vocabulary.

I'd say good luck, but you won't need it.

Enjoy your New Year's Eve celebration!  I'll be back on January 2, fresh from spending the holiday with future wife.

175 days and counting.

PS: For those wondering about my legs, it appears that I've got a problem with the tendons in my hips connecting my glutes and IT bands.  The acronym for that part of the body is TFL, which some of you (Robyn?) may be familiar with.  My ART specialist said it's hard to say for sure though because of all my other structural issues, but based on the pain there in today's therapy session, I'm guessing it's a root cause.  We'll keep at the recovery, and I'll keep you posted on the progress.

Trivial Pursuits

I was prepared to write all about my  first ART session today in Brentwood with Benjamin W. Kleinbrodt, DC, CCSP.  I was eager to share all the details of how jacked up my body is structurally, how Ben gasped as I showed off my bare legs and said "it's a miracle I can do any (endurance events) at all" based on my pronated ("super flat") feet, inversely rotated tibias, and a generally crooked and ill-proportioned body. Then, this evening, I volunteered at a homeless shelter on Skid Row preparing and serving meals.

I am humbled and embarrassed. So much of this blog space has been devoted to what I feel or think about triathlon. I live inside my head.  In my own world.  Deep in the "pain cave" or the "hurt locker" at times.  Where it's solitary confinement by choice.  Many of us triathletes live there, by choice.  And yet while I (we?) think about our mileage and our raw, organic meals or exactly when in the day we should have our next protein shake, tens of thousands of people in my city alone are wondering when they're going to eat next.  Their pain cave is a lot deeper, a lot colder and infinitely harsher.

I am simply shell-shocked tonight.  I'm ashamed to write that I've never been to a homeless shelter.  Until this moment, "the homeless" have mostly been a group I could disassociate with.  I could write a check to a cause and consider myself a good person.  But interact with them?  Surely that was someone else's responsibility.  If a homeless person approached and I had money, I'd almost always give it (remember this summer's "drug bust"???).  So I'd smile within and think, "That was a nice mitzvah (good deed) I just did.  I'm a good person."  But I'd also just as easily try to cross the street or avoid eye contact.

Tonight, I met several people without homes.  And I emphasize PEOPLE.  People who have bad luck.  Or are ill.  Or maybe haven't been the nicest or the best they could be.  But, as I looked at every person I could who humbly put their hands out for a hot plate of food, I saw two eyes looking back at me.  Real people.  Not covered in blankets.  Not shrouded in the dark, or cocooned in a sleeping bag with a cup to leave some money.  Functioning people in regular clothes, some with kids, some full families.  And the food line just kept growing, so much so that the kitchen had to close and three hungry people were turned away.

What a wake-up call.

We are all lucky to have lives where we can challenge ourselves on a higher level. We have the means and the resources to pursue being our best.  But I have been guilty of focusing too much on one journey -- achievement -- at the expense of another -- fellowship.  Have I really been pushing myself to be the best I can be if it took 36 years before I saw the inside of a homeless shelter?

Tonight that changes forever. Stephanie and I will volunteer at the homeless shelter more often.  I have to.  It is already done.

I love triathlon.  I love the lessons I've learned from the sport.  But tonight I was reminded of perhaps the toughest lesson of all about it: It can be a selfish pursuit.  Ultimately, helping someone get a hot meal is a lot more important.  And a lot more satisfying.

My life changed tonight.  And I've never been more ashamed to admit it.  I should have been doing this years ago.

187 days and counting.

One Mile at a Time

Lately a lot of folks at holiday parties or social gatherings have asked me about my Ironman experience.  To be honest, I've been shocked by the outpouring of interest. I thought people would be sick of it by now, with the blog, my Facebook/Twitter updates, etc.  Heck, I'm sick of it!!!!  It's gotten to the point where I'm almost ashamed to speak about triathlon in front of Stephanie because I'm sure she's sick of hearing it over and over even more than I am feeling. But my friends (and even people I rarely keep in touch with) want to know how the race felt, what the training was like, how I persevered through the weather and the pain on race day.  What crossing the finish line felt like.

Despite feeling inspired or excited, every conversation typically ends with the other participant saying, "That is insane.  I could never do that."

They're right.

And I think it's just as insane to not even consider it if you have the desire to try.

With that kind of attitude they never will complete an Ironman, or any triathlon for that matter. Or the metaphorical equivalent.  It's amazing to me these folks have accomplished much at all with that approach.  And the thing is, they've all achieved so much whether it's in their careers, their education or some other personal activity.

I don't blame anyone though for saying it's seemingly impossible.  If you look at Ironman solely as a singular achievement, a mammoth destination without the journey that comes with it, it can look like an Everest.  But, as I try to tell my friends, if you look at Ironman the same way you look at going to school -- taking a step forward every day, learning something new every day, improving incrementally and expanding your capabilities -- it's not quite as intimidating.

And this time, the only person grading you is yourself!  The only tests you take are the ones you assign, or maybe they're from a coach that you hire.

One day at a time.  One mile at a time.  One lesson at a time.  One test at a time.

If you focus on that and not the destination itself, you'll find you've arrived a lot quicker than you anticipated -- and maybe a little faster too.

Certainly a little wiser.

An Ironman is not out of reach. It is within all of our grasps ... if we want it bad enough.

189 days and counting.

OHMYGODI'MANIRONMAN!!!

I'm also ridiculously caffeinated. I don't and haven't drank cola or much caffeine for at least three years.  I had a 5 Hour Energy for the first time (yes, that's generally a no-no) and had several colas throughout the run.  You'll see why below.

Anyways, my caffeine rush prompted three pages of notes so I'm sharing them verbatim.  I will write a race report incorporating these lessons into something a bit more prosaic, but figured this is a good start.  I don't want to forget any of this stuff.

Thank you all for your support the past year.  I feel like this blog has somehow made a difference for a few folks and that means so much.  And I made a new friend tonight with a fellow competitor and FINISHER, Robyn.  She ROCKS. 

So, I need to eat dinner and then TRY to go to bed.  I'm exhuasted but WIRED.  Let's see how this goes haha.

More to come in the next couple days, but I hope this captures the spirit of the lessons learned while it doesn't come close to describing the emotions of the day.  That's next.

12:39!

I AM AN IRONMAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pre-race day:

Remember all your bags.  Pack with gear/special needs in mind so  all you have to do is transfer bags. Literally put stuff in separate bags beforehand. Will save tons of time.  Wish I had done that.

Get to event early.  You’ll be surprised how hard it is to relax.

I found staying off-site better.  The energy near the race site is too hectic and could be a distraction or could psyche you out.

Swim:

Scrum!

Don’t panic

Find a lane during the event, and keep switching if need-be.  Be flexible.  Keep sighting!  Practice sighting in open water drills.

Practice exiting the water.  It’s giant stairs.  There’s a right way and a wrong way to do this. Stay compact, use your knees and elbows to crawl up the steps, don’t swing your leg to the side as someone could bump you or you could get a cramp.  This did not happen to me, thanks to listening to Bob’s advice.

Bike

Don’t panic if the weather doesn’t go your way.  Adjust accordingly.  I tried to keep my goal time intact instead of going with the flow a little more – though I don ‘t believe I overexerted too much.  My coach might disagree, and I wouldn’t argue too strongly about that.

If you have a Speedfill, do NOT do what I did.  Don’t put powder in and then mix with water. It will clog your filter.  Bad idea.  Use water bottles the way you normally would and then squirt the mixture in the speedfill.

If you have to leave your bike out overnight, which you probably do, leave a little pressure out of the tires until the next morning.  This will help you avoid a temperature pressure-driven flat.

If you can, I highly recommend practicing in inclement weather.  The worse the weather, the better the idea to practice.  Fillmore saved my ass in training due to the winds but it still didn’t prepare me totally adequately for today.  And rain is a whole different story.  Gotta just get through it, though I recommend lighter-tinted glasses since if you  have water on the lens it’s harder to see.  This didn’t bother me too much but I noticed it enough to mention.

Pace yourself.  I knew I would feed off the crowd at the end of each loop so I pushed it a bit to “put on a show” and feed off the crowd.  I think that’s fine, but chill out for a bit after you’re away from the main crowd so you can regain your energy and focus.

If you need to pee, pee.  I pee’ed twice on the first loop.  So glad I did.  I was bummed to lose time, but I was a lot more comfortable.

Experiment with compression shorts a lot before wearing them in an IM.  It helped me for sure, but I wonder if the pressure on my gut caused some of my GI issues today.  Nutrition was a big problem for  me on the bike.  I couldn’t stand ingesting my normal foods (Clif Bars and gels) for some reason.  This was highly unexpected but again DON’T PANIC.  Listen to your body.  I ate a lot of bananas today and it was a good substitute.

5 Hour Energy.  Holy Shit. Blew my mind.  Never used it before, which is a bad idea in general for any race as a rule of thumb.  However, it saved my ass on the brutal bike ride.  And I powered through some 35 mph gusts (by Bob’s estimation) while others struggled b/c  the B12 kicked in at the right moment.  This stuff rocked, but it may also have contributed to a nasty sidestitch on the first mile of the run.  Yikes.

Speaking of run….

Run:

Don’t panic.  I got a cramp the first mile.  Thank goodness I found out there was a cramp/massage station in the first check point.  I used it and it helped immensely.  My cramp went away.  And then, at mile 8, my IT bands locked up big time.  Again, don’t panic.  I used the med tent to get THE MOST PAINFUL MASSAGE in my life but it was worth it.  Don’t worry about losing time in the short term.  I could not have completed the marathon in the time I did without these necessary breaks in the race.  Which leads me to:

Sometimes you need to go slow to go fast.  I needed those breaks to continue the race.  And while I lost 15 minutes at least on those massages, I think I raced faster throughout the day as a result.  This is a hard concept to accept, I think, because you have to sacrifice your goal time potentially to get what your body needs.   But your body will pay you back big-time.  Which leads me to:

Don’t panic!  Stuff WILL go wrong throughout the day.  My nutrition, my Speedfill needed ER attention at the last second.  I couldn’t eat the stuff I trained all year to eat.  My body locked up.  The weather turned into a storm.  Keep your head down and FOCUS.  Focus one mile at a time.  That is all you can do.  Don’t worry about your best-laid plans.  They very well may fall through. What is your back-up?  And what’s the back-up to that if the shit really hits the fan?  You need to know, and accept these conditions BEFORE the race.

Carry Endurolytes.  It saved me from really cramping.  Keep spare pills in your special needs bag.  I lost all my pills from the first container b/c I accidentally tipped them over while while drinking water.

On the run, eat what you want to eat.  Don’t worry about it.  Follow your body.  Do what it tells you.  Walk when you really need to walk.  Try to run as much as you can.  Shuffling is OK AND EFFECTIVE.  Accept that you can move pretty fast with an alternate gait if you must.  I did, and I’m happy with my time.

Enjoy that chute finish!  You deserve it!  Celebrate!  Let loose!  Shout, or do whatever comes naturally.  You can plan all you want for how you think you’ll react, but you  have no idea until you’re there.  But don’t rush it.  Embrace the moment.  It only happens once.

Highlights:

n  Swim!  PR

n  Bike: Seeing the pros whiz by and being on the same course as them at the same time even for a few seconds, right next to them.  Wow!

n  Bike:  5 Hour Energy!  Holy shit!

n  Run: Not panicking.  Being smart in how I raced.  Hugging Steph for a boost at mile 17.  Running the last big hill without stopping.  The finish!!!!

n  Being recognized for my blog from a wonderful human being and now friend, Robyn.  Such a touching moment at the finish where we hugged.

Lowlights:

n  Nutrition going haywire

n  Swim like a water polo match meets rugby match.  Brutal out there!

n  Weather absolutely destroying my body on the bike and wind challenging me several times on the run, along with brief drizzles too.

n  Cramps and lockup on the run.  Most painful massage in my life.

n  Lodging an Endurolyte in my throat at mile 22.  Dry heaves ensue.

Final lessons learned:

n  The race hurts real bad. That pain is temporary and harsh.  But the life lessons last forever.  Among those, sometimes you need to put yourself through extreme pain to get the most benefit from what you need -- even if it's not what you want.   For me that’s don’t panic, dealing with real physical pain, dealing with disappointment and rallying, understanding slower can be faster, and having three plans for truly important goals.  So valuable (thanks Gerardo!)