623 Tries

I've moved!

2012-01-21T12:10:00.000-08:00

My blog has moved to a new location www.623tries.com
Please continue to follow my triathlon journey there.
Thank you so much for following me!

This Week’s Top 6-2-3: Thanksgiving Style

2011-11-30T18:10:00.001-08:00

Six:

1. Awkward Family Moment: Started the holiday weekend by taking my nephew O’Neill out to dinner for his 21st birthday. We sat at the bar of our favorite restaurant as we’ve done for years. He abstained from drinking because he took an oath not to for his golf scholarship. No alcohol was needed for us to have a great time. Some old friends spotted me with a handsome dude and the wife approached us inquisitively, “Amelia?” “Hey!” I replied. “Steve (the restaurant owner) said you were dating a handsome, hot guy…” and she looked at O’Neill wondering, “Is this your guy?” “OH, NO!” I answered quickly, “Well, he is a handsome, hot guy! Can’t you see the resemblance? This is my nephew!” I found myself rifling through my iPhone pics to show I wasn’t that much of a cradle robber. O’Neill took it in stride.

2. Turkey Trail Trot: I opted against doing the Long Beach Turkey Trot and running on the boardwalk. Thought I’d be better off training on the trails for the XTERRA Crystal Cove Trail Run in December.

3. Lost: Crystal Cove was closed to due to unsafe conditions (rain). So I ran at the far end of Aliso Woods Wilderness. It’s been years since I’ve been around those trails. Probably 15 years at least. I got lost. I ran/walked an extra three miles. This made Todd laugh his butt off and save the voicemail to play for his brothers Thanksgiving night. It was funny.

4. Lovin’ It: My getting lost gave him more time to ride his cyclocross bike on the same trails, so it didn’t matter if he made us late for dinner because it was my fault already!

5. Dinner: It was excellent. The highlight was the entertainment portion, which included my brother-in-law’s brother Jimmy in an arm wrestling duel with O’Neill and then a full-on food fight with a couple of cans of whip cream with my niece. We were all in fits of laughter. Jimmy’s dogs were happy to clean the floor. Yup, we’re a really mature bunch.

6. Dessert: Back at Todd’s, we waited for brother Brad and girlfriend Caroline to arrive. This is a family of jokesters. I am VERY easily punked. We waited. We drank. Suddenly, his condo shook. The cat, Seven, freaked out. Me too. Turned out it was Brad, shaking the sliding-glass door. Spiked my heart rate more than that trail workout. This East Coast chick doesn’t like earthquakes.

Two:

1. My sister Jane (O’Neill’s mom) set a 10K personal record of 50 minutes (at the age of 56)! Hey, she didn’t take an oath not to drink. That’s worth celebrating! And it gives me hope that I can get faster too. Her secret? Yoga every morning!

2. I took advantage of the Black Friday special to sign up for three more triathlons at Bonelli Park next year. I’m psyched! I need a lot more races under my belt to get over this race-start anxiety bug-a-boo.

Three:

1. Todd crashed badly at his cyclocross race on the last lap. I waited for several minutes holding my iPhone camera waiting for him to cross the line. Then I heard Todd call out to me from the medical tent. After hearing the medic’s play-by-play, I’m so glad I didn’t witness the crash. He wondered if Todd would get up. Todd has never crashed out of a race.

2. He rode his bike gingerly back to the car. He has nasty tire mark gashes in the inside of his left bicep, a stiff right shoulder, and a really banged up right calf. He’s been hobbling around ever since.

3. I left my rehab quality ice gel pack behind for him to use this week with instructions, “Ice, ice baby!” Despite the limping, he rode for an hour and forty minutes last night and recited all the wildlife he saw out there today. It was a very long list!

Do You Ever Dream You’re Running?

2011-11-02T17:03:00.000-07:00

Or swimming? Or biking? Or racing? I do on a pretty regular basis. Of course, these dreams are never anything totally like real life. There’s always some highly entertaining weirdness involved. Must be recovery for my brain.

I think I watched too many detective shows with a friend last week. We were entranced with NCIS, CSI, and Lie to Me episodes. So big surprise, last night I dreamt I was being chased. I was hauling you-know-what through back alleys, hopping over fences with ease, and running at a very fast clip. It wasn’t a jog or a trot. It was a full-on SPRINT for my life.

I woke up with a grin. Somehow that dream made me feel optimistic about my running in the future. And my sheets looked like they went through a stirring mixer. They were tossed on the other side of the bed. Sleeping is supposed to be about rest, but tell that to my subconscious.

Are You a Barge or a Sailboat?

2011-11-01T20:48:00.000-07:00

Since my fitness isn’t 100% right now, I’ve been thinking about form a lot more lately. Last Saturday, I overheard Coach Mary giving a teammate some advice, “Barges have flat hulls. Sailboats have keels that cut through the water with less resistance,” she explained, “You want to rotate on your side more like sailboat with a keel.”

That analogy really resonated with me. I told her, “I think I’m a hybrid. I’m a sailboat on my right and a barge on my left.” Over breakfast, my Master’s swimming teammates recommended this drill to help correct it. So, how about you? Are you a barge or a sailboat?

It was a Sad, Surreal Day in Seal Beach

2011-10-22T12:43:00.000-07:00

On October 12th, I walked out of my local CVS drugstore and suddenly had a strange gut feeling. I had no idea why, but found myself scanning the parking lot for anything amiss. I took a different way home. Drove a block and still didn’t feel right, so I took side streets back toward my place. Two blocks later, I saw two cop cars blocking another side street. I drove slowly passed them and witnessed two police officers cuff a big, hulking man and pull him away.

I presumed there was a bank robbery since it was a block away from Bank of America. When I got to the other end of the street, it was blocked off by a parking-enforcement truck. The officers looked visibly shaken and prepared to leave as they waited for two more cop cars from neighboring Los Alamitos to speed by. I made it across the street, parking in my carport, and chatted with my neighbors on the corner. We were grinning and in disbelief at the number of blaring sirens we heard in our small town.

I went inside and posted on Facebook, “Anybody have any idea what's going on in Old Town Seal Beach?!! I've never seen so many cops or heard so many sirens in the 20 years I've lived here. Plus, the Los Al Police are here in force too.”

Ten minutes later, I got a call from a friend who heard from someone at Patty’s Place that two people had been shot at the Salon Meritage and there might be another shooter. I immediately called my friends with businesses on Main St. to tell them to lock their back doors. I heard helicopters overhead and presumed it was the police looking for another shooter.

My sister, Jane, called from Long Beach to see if I was okay. Her friend, Nancy, was concerned about me and heard on the news that six people had been shot. I called my Dad back in Boston to let him know I was okay. The rest of the afternoon, it was a volley of calls to and from friends and clients, checking in. It was unsettling to think of the people who didn’t make it. And what might have happened without the quick actions of the Seal Beach Police Department. If they had not caught him so quickly, I surely would’ve crossed paths with him. He was headed for the street I was on to pick up his 8-year old son at the elementary school a half-mile away. Who knows how many more people he would’ve shot if he’d had the opportunity. The sounds of a half dozen news and police helicopters continued overhead until dark.

In a couple of minutes, this shooter took the lives of eight wonderful people – Michelle Fournier, Randy Fannin, Laura Webb, Michele Fast, Dave Caouette, Victoria Buzzo, Lucia Kondas, and Christy Wilson. They had busy, full lives and loved ones who depended on them. The Seal Beach Chamber of Commerce set up a fund to assist their families.

Their loss is such a shock to all of us. Our tight-knit town is collectively mourning and doing everything it can help their families. It is estimated that 4,000-5,000 turned out for the vigil the following evening. Grief counselors have been called out to talk kids of all ages in schools.

In a town of 25,000 people, we lost more lives in this incident proportionally than New York did on 9/11. I didn’t know any of them personally, yet all of their faces looked so familiar to me. I know I’ve swam with Michele at the McGaugh pool. I’ve exchanged hellos with Dave many times on Main St. I’ve seen Laura at Nick’s Deli and Lucia at Café Lafayette. In a town this small, we all know someone who knew them. We all know someone who was within earshot of the crime. (One of my friends was annoyed because she thought it was CSI filming around the corner that day.) We all know someone who was with their loved ones or friends when they heard the news of their loss. We all know someone who had a close call and for one reason or another didn’t make it to the Salon Meritage that day. We all ache for those who lost their lives that day.

You can feel it as you walk around town. People have let down their normal polite facade. Everyone is a little more tender with each other. The empathy is palpable. In some ways, it's still sinking in. Whether we knew them personally or not, we know we lost some of our own. People who loved this town and everything in it – just like we do. They enjoyed walking on the pier at sunset. They enjoyed the simple pleasures of coffee at La Crema, lemony chicken soup at Café Lafayette, a glass of wine at the bar at Walt’s Wharf. They looked forward to our little Christmas Parade each year like little kids. It is, indeed, a Mayberry by the sea.

This Week’s Top 6-2-3:

2011-10-07T17:09:00.000-07:00

Another whirlwind week, but a good one!

Six – The Training:

1. I started out the week with another open water swim on a Tuesday morning with Sharon Swimmer.

2. Another tempo run on the treadmill.
3. Another ride on the trainer.
4. My first crossfit class in ages and it showed. I was rusty and almost instantly sore. I followed it up with a treadmill run, which made it feel a lot like a brick workout. I may be on to something. It took a glass of wine to get through the foam rolling that night.

5. Since we had a big red tide, spanning most of our beaches, we substituted our open water swim with a hike. Yup, back to the exact spot where I met Sharon Swimmer last month.
6. Did a long run in the hilliest part of the neighborhood I could find. For some reason, going up felt better than going down.

Two – The Races:

1. I signed up for the XTERRA Crystal Cove Trail Run on December 11th. It will be a 15K. I know the trails well, so I know it might involve some walking. The picture up top shows what may be the easiest portion of the race.
2. I can’t stop thinking about Kona coming up – tomorrow. Can't wait to watch it all on www.ironmanlive.com.

Three – The Fun Stuff:

1. On the hike, we spotted this big guy’s tracks. Mind you, I don’t have a small foot. I’m an 8.5. He looks like a moonwalker. We had no particular route in mind, but ended following this mystery man’s tracks for almost three miles before turning back to the car just because they made us laugh.
2. We went to the Farmer’s Market at U.C. Irvine. I got a good haul ‘cause I’m on a mission to re-stock my freezer with healthy stuff I can just thaw out quickly.

3. Todd is sponsored by Team Spy this cyclocross season. Lots of good things happening for him on that front. I’m so excited for him!

This Week’s Top 6-2-3:

2011-09-30T16:25:00.000-07:00

Wow, last week came and went faster than a Kona qualifier. Barely, getting in a recap before the next one! Here it goes…

Six – The Memorable Workouts:

• A tempo run on the treadmill.

• A kick-my-butt rowing class that left me drenched.

• A recovery spin with my unpaid cycling coach. His tip for the week: use a recovery pace, but spin those legs faster so they get used to that cadence when it really matters.

• An interval run on the treadmill that included 10 x 400s.

• An open water swim with “Sharon Swimmer” at Corona Del Mar. The ocean was totally dark and spooky on that overcast morning. I figured out kelp pretty much creeps me out! Plus, open water swims just exhaust me. (And, apparently Seven too.)

• A 9.3-mile mixed trail run (photo above). It was slow and in my opinion a little too much, too soon. I’ve been following the Galloway 10K running app on my iPhone. After that I adjusted it down from “Improve My 10K Time” to “My First 10K.” I’ve done dozens of 10Ks in my life, but thought the distance climbed a little too fast since I haven’t done any in a while.

Two – My Mindset:

• I’ve been feeling like a human pinball lately.

• Maybe in another month things will calm down.

Three – The Races:

• Todd came in 4th again in his cyclocross race on a mountain bike. He won a cool belt buckle as a prize. ‘Nuff said.

• Sharkbait made it through her big day as the Swim Race Director of the Orangeman Triathlon. She added some key innovations to improve safety for the all the competitors, especially the newbies. Way to go Sharkbait!

• My master’s teammate, Tammy, finished the Orangeman. We were so proud of her. Can’t wait to give her a hug the next time I see her.

(A bonus pic of Seven. As aloof as cats can be, he's pretty affectionate when he knows I've had a hard day.)

This Week’s Top 6-2-3

2011-09-20T19:28:00.000-07:00

Six:

• I had a nice belated birthday swim in the bay and dinner with TriDiver and Ryan.

• I went for a bike ride with my shadow and unpaid cycling coach Todd.

• He had me do a time-trial start for the first time. He held my bike seat while I clipped in on both sides, and instructed me to put my bike in the big gear for the start. 3-2-1 – off I went as hard as I could. That was my Tour de France experience for a Monday morning.

• Sharkbait organized a college football/birthday-bash-for-Cathy. Sharkbait graduated from USC. I’m a Syracuse alum. SU is really known for basketball. I didn’t have high expectations for a win, but I had a lot of fun.

• I’m back at my crossfit gym. I did two treadmill runs. Still easing back into everything, but looking forward to doing crossfit again.

• I met a new friend, Sharon, on trail patrol a couple of weeks ago. Turns out she’s a swimmer. I added her to my cell as “Sharon Swimmer.” Her name popped up with an invite to join her and her friend Mary on Saturday morning for an ocean swim in Corona Del Mar. I was psyched to get the practice in with some new pals. The three of us met the next afternoon for another swim. So I set a PR for three open water swims in one week!

Two:

• I have to give a shout out to Roadrunnersports.com. They have a huge selection, including narrow shoes for my skinny foot and neutral shoes for the orthotics I have to wear.

• Their confirmation email said check back within 24 hours for detailed shipping information. Um, they arrived on my front door in less than 24 hours. Their VIP deal is totally worth it.

Three:

• Todd came in 4th in his first cyclocross race of the season, missing third by a fraction of a second.

• He did the race on a mountain bike for his new Team Spy Blue Elite Racing Team.

• Found out TriDiver came in first in her age group at the TriRock Triathlon. She edged out her man, Ryan, by only a minute. (They blame the differential on the transition times.) Hey, I knew they’d be pretty compatible when I played matchmaker. I didn’t predict that would include race times!

Turning 50 with a Tri

2011-09-10T21:33:00.000-07:00

I had a loooong time to think about turning 50. I even had a mock 50th birthday party last year when my dear friend Sharkbait forgot that aging up didn’t really mean turning a certain age already.

I tried not to fret over it – like I did when I turned 25, 30, 35, or 40. Instead I imagined doing something rather impressive to defy my age and mark the occasion. I thought of doing 50 50’s in the pool. Climbing 5,000 feet on my mountain bike. Running 50K or 50 miles in a week or less. Doing a custom crossfit WOD and naming it for my mother! But being sick with shingles a couple of months ago pretty much wrecked those ideas. Though I’m calling it a mulligan and thinking I can do all of those things before I turn 51 – let the record show!

So what could I do to celebrate the Big 5-0 last week? I’m a lucky girl. It was decided for me by the love of my life and some of my dearest friends. I did a tri all right. Three parties – three nights in a row. Lots of awesome thoughtfulness catered to little ol’ (or should I say “old?”) me.

On the actual day, Todd and I took a nice walk around the lake. He indulged my photo bug with lots of shots.

Then we hung out and drank some beers on the floor and played with the cat – the highly entertaining little guy Seven – before heading out for a romantic dinner at Opah.

The next night, I made it to Master’s for a workout to find a homemade Yankee pot roast dinner (by Sharkbait, BTW I prefer to think of it as a Red Sox pot roast dinner) and plate of homemade brownies (by her daughter Nikki) waiting for me. It was fun to blow out the candle and have a nice little celebration with my Master’s team. It feels so good to be swimming with them after a couple of months off. I really missed these people.

Then the next night, I got the surprise of the half-century. I knew Sharkbait wanted to take me out for dinner. I knew she had something up her sleeve. I never predicted it would turn out to be something like this evening. She was in cahoots with our dear friend and ocean swimmer extraordinaire, Lynne Cox.

A ruse was involved. On the way to “the restaurant” where we had “reservations,” we quickly dropped off Nikki to pick up their dog Roxie to walk her home. The dog likes to visit Lynne and her mom. She’s a water dog. She loves to blow bubbles in the pool.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. We went inside to say, “Hi!” When we got to the kitchen, I knew something was up. Perhaps it was my favorite green plate on a stack of plates. The row of wine glasses.

Or the sweet aroma of clam chowdah!!!! I just walked in on an authentic New England seafood dinner. We hung out on the patio and enjoyed the first course: sourdough rolls and The Original Fish Company’s New England clam chowder.

Then came the next course, lobster flown in from Young’s in Belfast, Maine with corn on the cob and potatoes.

And then the piece de resistance – the most incredible birthday cake I’ve ever seen in my life from the Great Dane Bakery in Los Alamitos.This cake was so delicious that I promised Lynne I'd be sure to post some pictures of it!

It was truly a work of art. I’ve never seen anything like it – and it tasted just as phenomenal as it looked. What can I say? I have a weakness for chocolate! Thank you Great Dane Bakery!!

Kind of beats a race report doesn’t it?!!! Well, it does if you're not in race shape! Grateful doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings about last week.

This Month’s Top 6-2-3:

2011-09-04T13:14:00.000-07:00

August flew by at warp speed and I fell off the blogger bandwagon. It was a bittersweet, manic month of fun social gatherings and family emergencies. I’ll focus on the fun here.

Six:

• Todd and I celebrated four years together with a hike. It seemed only fitting since we met on the trails.

• The Twins put on an incredibly decadent dinner party for us – their old Tri Diva teammates, complete with custom glasses. Though we’ve gone our separate ways, it’s always a riot to get together!

• I’ve been trying to get more open water swims in. TriDiver rewarded me for my “bravery” with cupcakes at Sprinkles after our fun beach day workout at Little Corona Del Mar. (She spotted me doing the back stroke and gave me tips out there as we swam the buoys. That's a good friend!)

• I got a track workout in on my old high-school track in Massachusetts. This track was dirt in my day. It's amazing now. It was hot and humid, but I got ‘er done, jet lag and all.

• Finally made it back to Trail Patrol after three months off because of those darn shingles. Started back with a hike and this was my reward – an ocean view of Laguna.

• Todd received his Kenda U.S. Cup West Champion jersey for his big win of the series in June.

Two:

On the race front:

My dear blogger pal Tawnee Prazak finished her first Ironman. You can read about her adventures in Canada here.

My friends Dave Cox and his stepdaughter Amber Foster had a great outing at Nautica New York. In fact, Amber the speed demon mom was the ninth woman overall.

Three:

I traveled back to Boston and D.C. and back to California in 72 hours with nothing but my race bag. I consider that training.

• I got to see my dad.

• I got to see my best from second grade, Jean.

• And in the midst of a 22-hour day with nothing but a Clif bar and a packet of tiny pretzels all day, I got to have a much needed Bloody Mary and lobster roll at Logan Airport.

This Week’s Top 6-2-3

2011-08-04T08:48:00.000-07:00

Six:

• Seeing my Red Sox have their best July in history with 20 wins (yeah, I’m one of those fans).

• Hearing my 20-year old nephew finally ask, “What kind of bike helmet should I buy?” after I nagged him to wear one for a DECADE!!

• Catching up with Ryan and TriDiver at the last concert in the park of the summer.

• Dancing with my big sister, Jane, and getting some quick cardio
(yeah, it’s genetic).

• Feeling a definite improvement in my energy – FINALLY.

• Starting what I dubbed “sub-base training.” Cause it sort of feels like I’m starting in the basement after the better part of 11 weeks off. (Better it be me than the Red Sox!)

Two:

• A great weekend hanging out with my man and man cub. Seven's paws look big here. Definitely an optical illusion.

• A fantastic meditation class with my Ohm sisters. Call it mental training.

Three:

• A bike ride to my own private Idaho, a rolling paved stretch inside a park with no cars.

• Another easy peasy ride on the trainer.

• Two aquajogging sessions with my big sister’s marathon training group.

This Week’s Top 6-2-3

2011-07-27T17:20:00.000-07:00

Six:

• Cadel Evans, a mountain biker, finally won the Tour de France. Australians want a national holiday to celebrate his yellow jersey.

• Andy and Frank Schleck take 2nd and 3rd in the Tour. Their dad was a pro cyclist.

• Brent Blankner of the podcast Zen and the Art of Triathlon, and ultraswimmer Jamie Patrick swam across Lake Tahoe last Sunday. You can learn more about their adventure here.

• Ryan Barnett completed Ironman Lake Placid holding an American and military flags during the last two miles. He finished 4th in his age group and 20th overall. He’s been juggling the dual role of stay-at-home dad of his 8-year old daughter and elite Ironman athlete, while his wife “The Commander” is serving overseas. The family was finally reunited just in time for the race. Think we’ll see him at Kona too.

• One of my favorite bloggers, Ian Milkenson, placed sixth among the pros at Ironman Lake Placid. Sure I admire him for being fast. But in one of his posts a while back he wrote about pulling his car over to help a little old lady who took a fall in a park. I prefer to think of him as racing with a cape, but I guess that wouldn’t be very aero.

• Todd put in a solid six-plus-hour ride on his mountain bike Sunday, after keeping me company for the first 10 miles. Glad to see him get his mo back.

Two:

• Muffin top. Yup, more calories in than out the past few weeks. Weird.

• Let’s call it a Minnow muffin top. Somehow, that sounds a little better.

Three:

• I had another great ocean swim lesson from David Cox last Saturday.

• I finally met David’s stepdaughter, Amber, who finished Oceanside with us. Well, way ahead of me.

• And an outdoor ride on Blaze. Just an easy peasy spin to make me feel like a triathlete again.

Crossing Lake Tahoe

2011-07-22T16:02:00.000-07:00

I’m planning to take a dip in Seal Beach this weekend. But ultra swimmer Jamie Patrick and Ironman Brent Blankner have something much more adventurous on for the weekend agenda – crossing Lake Tahoe – 22 miles of open water swimming at an elevation of 6,300 feet. They’ll take off Sunday morning at 3:00 a.m. and estimate it will take at least 12 hours. You can follow their crossing here. They promise to have video, pictures, GPS positioning, and telemetry of the event.

If you’re on Twitter, you can follow the conversation with the hashtag #SwimTahoe. Follow them @metabender and @zentriathlon.

I’m sure all of this will make a great podcast soon on Zen and the Art of Triathlon too.

Revisiting the Chicken$#@* Swimmer Checklist

2011-07-20T20:12:00.000-07:00

Nothing like some mandatory time off to bring on a little introspection. When I started swimming and triathlon, my goals extended beyond races distances and finish times. I wanted to learn some skills. And in order to accomplish those goals, I had to get over some fears. I laugh now at some of the things I was afraid of – and laugh some more at some of the things that still get my heart rate up way too much. Wow, what a little head case.

Okay, here’s the list:

1. Swimming laps without drowning. Check.
2. Sharing a lane with another swimmer. Check.
3. Circling with even more swimmers. Check.
4. Swimming in a lake. Check.
5. Swimming in an enclosed bay. Check.
6. Swimming without stopping in the open water. Check.
7. Swimming far, Ironman distance far. Check.
8. Swimming bilaterally. Almost there. In the pool, yes. In the ocean, not always.
9. Swimming through surf. Even barely existent surf. Nope.
10. Swimming in ocean swells. Nope.
11. Swimming without a wetsuit in the ocean. Nope.
12. Doing flip turns. Nope.
13. Race starts. Nope.

Since I’m still not feeling up to snuff, my training and race schedule is totally up in the air right now. The only thing I can do with certainty is work on some of these weaknesses a little bit at a time. So for the next few weeks or longer, I’m going to focus on #9 through #11. When I have my normal energy back, Coach Mary has promised to help me with #12. If I can get over some of these bug-a-boo phobias this year, I’m sure that will feel as good as any PR. Even if I don’t master those skills, at least I’ll dip my toes in the water and feel better about myself for trying.

This Week's Top 6-2-3

2011-07-18T06:44:00.000-07:00

Marine Stadium Marina, Long Beach

Summer Concert in the Park at Marine Stadium Park, Long Beach

Six:

6. I hung out with an 88-year old woman named Mary last night. She was a World War II pilot and told a bunch of funny stories. She's still as sharp as can be and swims with a group of women in Seal Beach. She offered to help me with my ocean swimming this summer. Thanks Mary, I need it!

5. One of my all-time favorite pro triathletes, Melanie McQuaid, completed two races in two states over the weekend – XTERRA Beaver Creek in CO and Vineman 70.3 in CA. Thereby earning enough points to qualify for the XTERRA Nationals and Ironman 70.3 World Championships in 48 hours! How cool is that?

4. Speaking of double-doubles (not the In n' Out kind), Beth and James Walsh took 2nd and 1st place in their age groups at Vineman this weekend. Whatever they're putting in their training mix and Vitamix, it's clearly working.

3. Did I mention that I love Thor? Seeing this sprinter lay it all on the line to take a rather hilly stage on the Tour made my day.

2. Seeing the Frenchman,Thomas Voelkler, win the yellow jersey on Bastille Day made me happy too. It's amazing how a French rider usually pulls off a miracle ride on this holiday each year.

1. I'm moving up in the Tour de France Fantasy Challenge. Now ranked #9,569 out of at least 22,000. Can't wait for the big mountain stages this week.

Two:

2. There was only a slight uptick in my energy level this week. I'll take it, but can't wait for more. The phase after shingles feels like mono. You just want to be horizontal.

1. On a mission to fix that Todd got me some 5-hour Energy. I only use it in case of emergency - like meeting an afternoon deadline. I only consume half. Despite the cheesy packaging, it just has caffeine and lots of liquid vitamins in it.

Three:

3. My 19-year old nephew, Noah, got to watch me for a change as I practiced my dolphining and getting acclimated to the surf. I'm so proud of this kid. He's worked as a certified chef since he was 17. He cooks for a 5-star restaurant and a pub. His girlfriend Katelyn joined us. She offered to swim with me some more later too. Thanks Katelyn, I need it!

2. The next day, it was Todd's turn. Then we met the family for a concert in the park, picnic and bottle of malbec. It was a perfect summer night.

1. I'm still a big scaredy cat about little waves. When they break near shore, I can't help breaking into a run. So that counts as a brick, right?

This Week’s Top 6-2-3

2011-07-11T13:42:00.000-07:00

Six:

6. I love Thor! So blown away by his ability to keep the Yellow jersey for a week, especially that last hilly day!

5. Though I personally love rest days, when the Tour takes a rest day, I go into complete withdrawals. Can’t wait for tomorrow!

4. I was absolutely haunted by seeing Chris Horner complete that stage with a serious concussion. He had no idea where he was or if he finished. The real reason he couldn’t continue? If you attempt to play sports before fully recuperating from a concussion, you risk something called “Second Impact Syndrome” which can be lethal or cause permanent brain damage. Concussions don’t show up on MRIs or CT Scans. The neurologists I’ve interviewed on the subject recommend this neurological test to screen for a concussion and determine the best time to return to normal workouts.

3. I’m not sure what’s more perplexing – seeing the number of times Contador crashed or watching him toss his sponsor’s 10,000-Euro bike to the ground in disgust every time he needed a new one.

2. Chrissie Wellington set a new world record of 8:18:13 in the Ironman. I think she’s elevating the sport for women in the same way that Billie Jean King did for tennis.

1. My Versus Fantasy Challenge team is ranked 10,669 out of at least around 20,000.

Two:

2. I received some coaching on entering the surf from my friend, David Cox. He’s quite the ocean swimmer and a great teacher. (More later.)

1. Watched my Master’s Swimming friends race in the annual Seal Beach Rough Water Swim on Saturday. I was so proud of them. (More on that later too.)

Three:

3. My favorite quote of the week came from pro triathlete, Joanna Zeiger via her husband, “When your body tells you not to workout, it's not lying to you.”

2. Particularly fitting since I was glued to the mattress this week like chewing gum on hot sidewalk. Guess it’s normal post-shingles fatigue thing.

1. My subconscious is taking over for my lack of physical activity. Last night I dreamt I raced in two heats of the mile. The race venue was an underground garage. I dropped out of the second heat because I was so annoyed by all the columns. Yeah, my dreams don’t always make sense, but they’re entertaining.

This Week’s Top 6-2-3

2011-07-05T19:06:00.000-07:00

Six:

6. I’m thrilled that the Tour de France has begun.

5. It reminds me of one of my happiest TDF memories. My family rented a cottage on Nantucket in ’04. It had a huge 60” plasma, flat-screen TV which was a rarity back then. No one in my family was interested in cycling. But my dad faked it and watched it with me every morning.

4. I’m so glad that I ended up with someone who enjoys the Tour as much as I do each summer.

3. I signed up for the Versus Tour de France Fantasy Cycling Challenge contest for the fifth year in row.

2. I really like my team’s chances: Thor Hushovd, Mark Cavendish, Andy Schleck, Alberto Contador, Robert Gesink, and Mark Renshaw are some of my top picks.

1. Think I qualify as a Thor Hushovd groupie. I took this picture of him at the Tour of California in its inaugural year. He’s one of my favs.

Two:

2. Sharkbait’s teenage daughter, a super-talented swimmer, got whomped by a wave last Thursday and hit her head hard enough to hear a crack in her neck. She had to be transported by ambulance on a backboard to the hospital. Scary moments for her mom and friends. We’re all so glad she is okay.

1. The kid still wanted to get back to the beach that afternoon. She’s fearless. (Wish some of that would rub off on me.)

Three:

3. I threw up the white flag last week and realized recovering from shingles is not going to be a quick fix. It’s hard to get through a workday, let alone workouts right now. This too shall pass. If you have any loved ones over 60, encourage them to get the vaccine for it. You can't get one if you're younger.

2. An 1,100-yard swim on Saturday left me as fatigued as a 100-mile ride on the bike last year. I fell asleep in front of an old Doris Day movie for the better part of the afternoon. Kind of pathetic. Kind of decadent. I’ll try to dwell on the decadent.

1. Had a fantastic Fourth of July. A nice dinner with steak, Portobello mushrooms, and asparagus grilled on the barbecue with some pasta. Followed by a view of six different towns’ fireworks.

This Week's Top 6-2-3

2011-06-27T17:53:00.000-07:00

Six:

6. Todd had an awesome race at Kenda U.S. West Cup. (more on that later.)
5. Sharkbait sent me this photo. Anyone who knows me well, calls me "Minnow." If you read this blog that includes you too, if you like.
4. Made it back to Master's swimming after 5 weeks off due to illness.
3. Made it back to Pilates class too.
2. Surprised Todd's brother Ken w/an early 50th b-day party 3 weeks early!
1. Someone asked me to model for a mountain bike catalog. (Really? Go figure.)

Two:

2. Count 'em 2 bike rides with Todd, 2 days in a row.
1. Seeing him excited about a 4-foot long snake slithering over the bike path and not freaking out like I usually do.

Three:

3. Found a pyramid-style interval workout to try on the treadmill later.
2. Got a new part from Seris for my CycleOps trainer that will make Blaze more comfy around the derailleur.
1. Finally caught up on reading a stack of Triathlete magazines.

TYR Warehouse Sale Haul

2011-06-17T19:20:00.000-07:00

One of the really great things about being self-employed is that I can get away with taking a couple of hours off during a week day without getting dirty looks from the boss. Nope the boss is totally cool if there’s a TYR Warehouse sale. (Actually, I take it back. She didn’t let me go last year. TriDiver had to pick up a couple of suits for me.)

But this year, I made it. Tomorrow, I’ll make up the time on that video script. Today, it was all about the TYR Warehouse Sale – a once-a-year, epic shopping event. It’s still going on tomorrow – I think until 3:00 p.m. at their warehouse in Huntington Beach. Lots of swimsuits on sale at bargain rates you won’t find anywhere else. This year they also had tons of goggles and flip-flops. I was hoping for swim caps and a backpack, but there weren’t any. It might be a timing thing. They could be there tomorrow. Nevertheless, I was thrilled to find so many cute suits.

So when I return to Master’s swimming next week and my buddies ask, “Is that I new suit?” I’ll answer, “Yes!” – for several workouts in a row. I’m now bordering on being the Imelda Marcos of swimsuits. Make that Minnow Marcos.

Joyfear

2011-06-13T18:10:00.000-07:00

I was reading one of my favorite blogs, Zenhabits, recently and came across this word, which Leo Babauta coined. He writes a lot of good stuff on health and fitness as well as tapping into a more focused state of mind and working more efficiently.

His post on Joyfear really captured the essence of why I like triathlons. He defines Joyfear as “a mixture of intense joy and intense fear into one ball of powerful emotions that both lift me up and make me see things clearly when I hadn’t before.”

That really rang true with me. It’s exactly what I experience when I race. Or when one of my ad agency clients calls me in to work on a big pitch. Or lately, when I go to a Crossfit class.

So two questions: What brings you joyfear? What non-triathlon blogs do you read for inspiration and why?

A Chance to Just Be

2011-06-07T17:47:00.000-07:00

When I first found out I might be down for the count for a bit, the first words out my mouth to Todd were (I kid you not), “I feel like such a poser!” “What? Your sick!” he replied. It was the idea of having training interuptus again that got the best of me. The knee. The big book project in the fall. I was just getting on a roll.

Once we said our goodbyes and I settled into being quarantined, I started to see the gift in it. Seriously, what overly busy woman wouldn’t kill for an opportunity to get off the merry-go-round of juggling errands, laundry and life for just a few days?

It gave me time to tackle Mount Magazines, watch more cooking, Man v. Nation, and Bravo TV shows than I dare to admit. It allowed me to cuddle up with Netflix on my iPad and watch one episode of Lie to Me after another. (Brilliant.) This freelance writer could still make a living, but she didn’t need to drive 45 miles each way for a face-to-face meeting with the client. With a big pock on my forehead (not quite as bad as a third eye) and my uber thick glasses (which I haven’t I worn so much since they called me “four eyes”), I was thrilled to just phone it in this time. I was even able to participate in my meditation class through the magic of iChat. Connecting with my friends that way made me feel far less lonely.

I am incredibly grateful to Sharkbait and Lynne for bringing me care packages of food, and Susan for picking up groceries. Throughout the past two weeks, I was able to eat incredibly healthy. I made lots of smoothies to help the medicine go down. Going from needing no medication to the ritual of taking something five times a day that might save my vision later was an eye opener. I’m lucky I don’t have to do this all the time. I’m lucky I get to go back to life as normal next week or soon thereafter.

With the exception of feeling super fidgety on Sunday, I’ve been hanging in there pretty well. Tomorrow will be my last day of taking strong meds – and I’m sure I’ll feel a lot more like myself soon. Something tells me those workouts to come will be that much sweeter, even if the times are slower.

It’s Like an Episode of “House”

2011-06-01T17:39:00.000-07:00

Season 7, Episode 9 – only less dramatic. A couple of weeks ago I was dog sitting for Sharkbait. I noticed some pain on my left cheek and behind my ear when I went to bed that night. I thought ‘Oh crap, maybe I’m getting swimmer’s ear.’ When I woke up that Thursday morning, her sweet golden retriever Roxie looked empathetic and alarmed. A glance in the mirror and revealed that I looked like I got a sock in the jaw and bump growing on my forehead.

I made a beeline for the urgent care and explained that I was going on vacation in a couple of days. The physician’s assistant diagnosed me with either an infected cyst or blocked salivary gland. “The treatment is the same, and I’ll give you some antibiotic cream for that rash on your forehead.” She gave me a prescription and for good measure, ordered an antibiotic shot in the you-know-where. I explained, “I bumped my head on the shower door last Saturday. It feels like a bruise more than a rash.”

Since Todd and I were about to go camping in the Grand Canyon the following Monday, she wanted to see me the next day before I left town. She stuck to her diagnosis and ordered another antibiotic shot in the you-know-where. All the while keeping me at a good distance away where she didn’t really get a good look at the disputed rash. (Note to self: next time make the doc/P.A./nurse take a closer look even if it’s not pretty.) She told me to eat sour and spicy foods to unblock the salivary gland.

Friday night I lay in bed very uncomfortable. I Google-d “blocked salivary gland” on my iPhone and discovered that a dentist might be able to unblock the gland. My dentist saw me on Saturday morning. He double-checked to see that it wasn’t a toothache. And pleaded with me not to leave town without seeing an oral surgeon. "The location of your infection is like a super highway to the brain. You don’t want to be out in the middle of nowhere and have things take a turn for the worse. Eat spicy food and suck on limes,” he said. Like a good patient, I ordered Buffalo wings a degree hotter than my normal liking and sucked on a bag of limes all weekend.

Saturday night I had a splitting headache and a fever. And it wasn’t from tequila. Todd raced his mountain bike the next day and came in second. Then he raced back to take care of me. I was still in denial and packed as best I could for the camping trip to the Grand Canyon. I’ve never been. He looked at me that night and said, “I don’t care what that oral surgeon says. We’re not going to the Grand Canyon.” I was bummed and relieved at the same time.

We just hung out on Monday and thought of something special to do that was vacation-like in town. For lunch we ate Mexican and Todd dared this East Coast wimp to eat a Habanero pepper for the first time. Anything to avoid the pending oral surgery. If I wasn’t going to be eating much for a couple of days, this girl decided she wanted a filet mignon with béarnaise sauce at Café Lafayette for dinner – something I haven’t indulged in for ages.

The next morning as I settled into the oral surgeon’s chair sans my morning coffee or anything to eat, prepared to hear “You need surgery.” He took one look at me and said, “You have the chicken pox.” I asked about the bump on my forehead and explained that I hit my head really hard on the shower door. “You were exposed to the chicken pox at some point in your life. It was dormant in this branch of your facial nerves. When you hit your head that hard combined with being stressed or worn down, it saw an opportunity to break out. You can stop taking antibiotics now.“ he replied with a chuckle. Yes, in this episode, the oral surgeon was House, only he didn’t get it all right. He said I was no longer contagious.

I called the urgent care and told them to tell the physician’s assistant that I had the chicken pox. No one told me I needed to be on any medication.

A couple of days passed and I started having major eye pain. I reluctantly went to one long meeting because my ad client’s client swore he had already had the chicken pox and needed to meet with me. Awkward.

On Saturday, we were trying to figure out when it was safe to expose myself (did I say that?) to Todd again. “Research it!” he said cheerfully. The guy has never had the chicken pox. When I did I was horrified at what I learned. This is the PSA portion of the story. When the chicken pox become ocular chicken pox (affecting the eye), it can cause loss of vision months or years later in a pretty high percentage of patients. And if medication isn’t given to those patients within 72 hours of the initial breakout, it is considered an opthalmoligical emergency. The adrenaline surged through my body that night as I kept the information to myself.

The next morning, I waited until Meet The Press was over (a polite hour) before calling my trusted optometrist. Miraculously, my call went through to him while he was up in the mountains. He referred me to an opthalmologist I met once before who was also out of town in San Francisco. When he returned my call, he said, “Amelia, you need to be on anti-virals right away. Since it’s a holiday weekend, I think you’re going to have to go the hospital.”

The guys in the E.R. were totally cool. The examined my eye, fed me a sandwich and gave me some really strong drugs to reduce the swelling in my eye and make the chicken pox not last quite so long. Of course, I asked the normal tri question, which makes me giggle a little bit now. “When can I work out again?” “You’re not going to want to be out in the sun with this medication. And you need to give your body rest to fight off the illness, “ the doctor replied. “And yes, you’re still contagious. Stay away from people for at least a few more days, but see your opthalmologist within 3 days.”

The opthalmologist said my eye looks like it is in good shape, but I can’t wear my contacts or swim for another two weeks. All of this might sound like a bunch of TMI, but I figure if any of you or a loved one ever experience symptoms of a blocked salivary gland or chicken pox/shingles as an adult, you’ll know what to do.

I’m lucky the complications weren’t much, much worse – like the episode of House in Season 7.

How Crossfit Athletes Celebrate Memorial Day

2011-05-30T11:23:00.000-07:00

My crossfit gym and other crossfit gyms across are honoring those who have served our country in a very special way today. A little background about crossfit first. Each day they perform a WOD – a Workout of the Day. Most of these super-challenging WODs are named after women – i.e, Diane, Eva, and Helen. But today’s WOD is called “The Memorial Murph.” To pay tribute to Navy Lieutenant Michael Murphy who was killed in Afghanistan in 2005. He was only 29.

All these crossfit participants will chip in $10 to the Wounded Warrior Project and then they will do the following WOD:

• 1-mile run
• 100 pull-ups
• 200 push-ups
• 300 squats
• 1-mile run

Boo-Yaa! To me, that sounds like the crossfit equivalent of a 70.3 triathlon. But I dunno since I’m still learning and have only been doing it for a month. I won’t be participating in the event today because I’m under the weather. I’ll definitely support the cause though. You can too by visiting here.

High-School Flashback

2011-05-23T14:48:00.000-07:00

One of things I love about Facebook is reconnecting with faraway friends without waiting for a postcard around the holidays. About a month ago, my dear friend Bob posted a picture from his trail run behind my old high school. I couldn't resist pointing it out to him and describing the typical cross-country workout my coach used to dole out to us. Yup, Coach McMahon used to make us do 3 or 4 loops in the woods (2.75-3.00 miles) followed by 15 hill repeats, followed by a 1.5-mile cool down. Here’s that infamous hill. A week or so ago, Bob posted this on my wall. It was one of the kindest, unexpected random acts a friend has ever done for me. Thanks Bob! Check it out. Funny, what can make a girl feel sentimental.

Oceanside: The Dork Report - Part Doh!

2011-05-17T18:07:00.000-07:00

Now that I’ve set a PR for procrastination, it’s time to get the rest of this race report in the can.

I found out at the last minute that I wouldn’t be starting with the Operation Rebound crew, but my age group (as it should’ve been). Since I literally blew my pre-race nutrition, my stomach was growling as I entered the corrals. I bumped into Beth. She gave me a hug and some kind words, “You’re going to do great!” I really appreciated it and was taken by how she just radiated joy and a sense of relaxation moments before the start.

I found my age group and we were mixed in with some very confused 20-somethings who wondered if they were in the right spot with the gray hair poking through some of our caps. It made for some jovial laughter.

I was bummed that I had no way of telling Todd I would be starting 40 minutes later. As I made my way down the boat ramp, I spotted him, waving at me, smiling, and pointing the camera at the same time like a proud parent. I was relieved he figured it out.

THE SWIM

When it was time to enter the water, my body was really battling the flight-or-fight thing. I had to force myself to catch up to the back of my group. The anxiousness I felt was unsettling and worse than when I started this sport. I think it was heightened by the fact that I really hadn’t done any open water training in waves in years. Last year, I did all my training in the Bay where it’s mostly calm.

I knew I’d feel better once I got under way. As we strung out in the harbor, I made sure to sight frequently to avoid a lot of zigzagging. The faster swimmers in the age groups behind motored past me. But otherwise, I felt like I was holding my own. I wanted to do this race bilateral breathing, but I couldn’t get into a rhythm. I was way too anxious. When I reached the turnaround buoy, I could feel my body rolling around in the swells. I made a conscious decision not to stop and look at how big they were. I just knew I was swimming in the biggest waves I’ve ever been in. It felt like I was out there for an eternity. Yet, I don’t think I made any glaring mistakes. In actuality, this was my best swim leg of a race ever. Though it wasn’t reflected in my time, which was 4 minutes slower than ’08, I swam the whole way without stopping or zigzagging like crazy. For me THAT was a victory!

The Take Away: I need to race more this season to get past these ridiculous jitters. And I need to get a whole lot more open-water swimming in waves this summer.

THE BIKE

The first half of the race, I felt like I was flying. I loved being on my new bike, Blaze, and seeing what I could do without worrying about traffic, dogs on leashes, or kids on training wheels. I felt free out there and appreciative of the Marines who cheered us on at different points along the way. There was a short no-passing zone on a hill where I got caught behind some slower riders. I ended up dropping my chain and feverishly rushed to get it back on.

A few miles later I hit the steepest hill of the day. Oh, how could I forget this one? It was challenging, but I went straight up it without stopping. I was surprised to see other riders snaking their way up it like they were mountain biking on a lonely fire road instead of a race course. They were weaving around me like they were skiers in a slalom course going in slow motion. This seemed like a really dangerous way to ride up a hill in a triathlon. For all the rules that USAT has about no drafting, it seems like this should be illegal too because it puts the riders who are going straight up the hill at risk of being knocked over.

With about three more challenging hills that followed, my legs felt pretty zapped of energy as I made my way back to the transition area. I passed a bunch of riders in their 60s and 70s in the last 10 miles and it made me hopeful that someday I may be just like them and competing still.

The Take Away: I need my climbing legs back too. I will be doing more mountain biking on the weekends this summer.

THE RUN

Knowing that my running conditioning still isn’t back yet, my plan was to run the Galloway method: 5 minutes of running with 1 minute of walking. The first half I stuck to my plan and took in plenty of nutrition on those walking stints. By the second half, I was making deals with myself. How about 3 minutes of running and 30 seconds of walking?

I was happy to see Kristen (TriDiver) at least 3 times on the course. I also saw Bob Babbitt cheering us on. At the 9-mile mark, I blurted out to him, “I think I’ve reached the suffering portion of the race.” He quickly sniped back, “Oh you’re fine!” He was right. What was I griping about in the grand scheme of things?! Hello!!! Oh, if I could’ve taken back those whiney words.

In the last mile and a half, I had waves of emotion hit me that I was finally going to finish my first triathlon in three years. After all the rehab, etc. this was going to be it. The finish line was a sight for sore eyes and tired feet. I made it! It took me 7 hours and 13 minutes. Twenty minutes slower than ’08, but I’ll take it.

It’s always a little weird to finally cross the finish line. Like a “Huh? I’m here. Now what? Is that it?” And then about 15 feet later it hit me. Out came the happy tears. I look around and immediately spotted Todd looking equally thrilled.

I was also greeted by those wonderful folks from the Challenged Athletes Foundation who make me feel like a rock star for helping out. When I saw Bob Babbit on the way out, I said, “Thanks for the tough love at mile 9!” He planted a congratulatory kiss on me right in front of Todd. Totally made me laugh.

The Take Away: I see some track workouts and trail runs in my future! Things can only get better from here. I’m back in the game baby! And that feels great!!!

The welcoming committee of one. Seven doing his sniff, sniff, "What's that intoxicating smell lady? Where have you been?"

Oceanside: The Dork Report

2011-04-12T11:58:00.000-07:00

There are times when you just have to laugh at yourself. And there are times when you have to give yourself a pat on the back. This race post is a little of both.

Oceanside represented my first true triathlon in three years. I did the Vineman AquaBike last year, but this was the first swim-bike-run in a while. It mattered. Perhaps a little too much.

I had my usual pre-race nutrition plan, falling back on the tried-and-true coffee, Cliff Bar, banana, water and gel. After we pulled up in the parking lot, I proceeded to puke. Hey, that’s not the normal routine. Morning sickness? Nope, this was my day to age up to 50. Somebody sneak some gin in my water bottle? Nope. It was definitely nerves. I so rarely ever get sick to my stomach. No kidding. A decade could go by with no barfing. And I hope I go another few years without a repeat performance.

My body was definitely going through the fight-or-flight fear thing. I have to admit, I’m still a triathlete who is afraid of waves. I’ve artfully avoided swimming in the surf the past couple of years and I dreaded what was to come at the turnaround buoy near the mouth of the harbor. And there’s that other kind of wave. I loathe the wetsuit mosh pit, washing machine churn at the start of the races. There. I said it. I know. I need to get. Over. It.

Those were my exact thoughts as I looked up in the parking lot to see if anyone witnessed my gaff. I only saw pre-occupied triathletes pumping up tires in the dark. Todd rubbed my back and went back to pumping up mine. (Oh, this will make a good story later.)

We headed over to the transition area. I did feel better. Though as you can see here, I looked like hell depleted of all my calories and electrolytes. (Is this the look of a woman who is about to kill a 70.3-mile course?)

I perked up when I found my good buddy Ryan. He brought me back over to his girlfriend, TriDiver, who was a volunteer doing the body marking. She gave me a custom job and I was relieved to have my real age on my calf. I had her add some props to Todd for the long day I knew he’d put in as tri sherpa. She marked my right leg with a heart and "THX TODD."

I got to rack my bike with the Challenged Athletes Foundation as a member of Team Operation Rebound. My friends and clients helped me raise $1,525 for the cause. It was great to hang out with these men and women who are thrilled to be athletes again after enduring so much while serving in Iraq or Afghanistan. What a cool, courageous group. It was an energetic vibe. My bike was racked in a sweet spot right by the exit. This is how my day started. In the next post, I’ll tell you how it finished.

Is It a Boy or a Girl?

2011-03-31T14:49:00.000-07:00

In my last post Benson asked, “What’s her name?” This made me laugh because it’s been quite a point of contention around here. When I first started dating Todd, he told me, “You have to give your bike a sexy name!” His bikes’ names have a definite risqué ring to them. Fine. I proceeded to name my mountain bike “Conrad” and my road bike “Macca.”

With the new bike hanging from the rafters on layaway, he asked, “What are you going to name her?” “Her?!!!” I quipped, “Oh no, it’s a him.” “Nah, that bike is so sexy, there’s no way that’s not a her,” he replied. The guys in the bike shop agreed with him, of course.

In the back of my mind, I was thinking I might name my next bike “Crowie” for Craig Alexander. But I needed to think about it some more. I conferred with my college roommate, Leslie, who teaches college English now. She made the compelling argument that Cervelo ends in “o” and anything that ends in “o” in Italian is a guy.

A couple of days later she suggested, “What about ‘Otto’?” Not the sexiest name. (No offense to the Ottos of the world.) She had a great rationale for it. Since she calls me “Six” (short for my blog) and the cat is “Seven” (short for 734 which is 623+111) then it makes sense to have an eight. In Italian, that’s “Otto.” Otto was also the name of my grandfather whom I never got a chance to meet, so it was a sentimental pick.

A few days later, I was watching last year’s Ironman World Championships with Sharkbait after a Master’s swim and a training ride. We started thinking of Jon Blais, aka Blazeman, who so courageously completed Kona with ALS. Sharkbait looked at me and said, “What about Blaze?” We both grinned. “Yeah, I like it.” It has a nice double entendre. Blaze as in fast. And Blaze as in gutsy, nothing-will-ever-make-me-quit. I told Todd and he replied, “I like it, but can we call it Blazette?”

My Big Planned, Spontaneous Find (Just in the Nick of Time)

2011-03-28T09:35:00.000-07:00

With My Inner Ralphie and My Inner Suze going at it, I was starting to think that a new bike was not going to be in the cards before Oceanside. I wanted a P2, but was riding a P.U. – my friend Stacey’s old bike that I got for a song in ’06. Last year, the bike rarely held the middle chain ring for more than a nanosecond. After the full Vineman Aquabike, I did not want to race on it again!

I had been looking for a 2010 P2 in a 48 cm frame. What was starting to feel like the proverbial needle in a haystack. I didn’t just want a bike. I wanted new triathlon shoes too. Then Todd pointed out that I could get a better helmet.

Feeling a tad discouraged, Todd suggested, “Well, maybe you should get a new bike after Oceanside. Let’s look for your shoes and a better helmet.” We went down to his favorite store, Rock n’ Road to see if they carried Sidis. No luck. Then the manager, placed the lightest helmet I’ve ever held in my hand – a Specialized Prevail. My Inner Ralphie took over. “I want it!” They didn’t have my size, sigh… but ordered me one right away.

On the way to the helmets, we passed a 2010 P1 and 2011 P2. We explained the predicament. I’m not a good candidate for a black bike. I have crappy vision and Todd wants me to be as visible as possible out there. One of the sales reps starting joking with him, “Stick a yellow slicker on her and get a 2011.” Then he said, “Hang on, I’ll go out to my car and get my laptop and find one for you.” It turned out the sales rep was a Cervelo sales rep. What are the odds?

My Inner Ralphie still had to wait for everything to fall into place. I had to order the Sidis (for my super narrow foot) online. They were held up in customs for two weeks. Then I had to coordinate the bike fit. The bike fitter had the flu. Poor Nicky. So for four weeks straight, every Monday date night/recovery day, we’d find an excuse to go to “the shop” and visit my bike, stored way up high on layaway.

I remember the first time I saw Chrissie Wellington on a P2 at Kona in 2007, My Inner Ralphie tugged on my shoulder. It was pretty surreal to finally ride it in the parking lot behind Rock ‘n Road after a super-thorough bike fit (more on that later). Nicky asked, “Do you feel powerful?” as I rode past her and Todd. “Yeah!” I said bubbling over with happiness.

My Inner Ralphie vs. My Inner Suze

2011-03-17T21:17:00.000-07:00

For the past few years, a couple of characters have been duking it out in my head. In the right corner, the care-free, young dreamer with a major case of the I-wants: Ralphie of a Christmas Story. In the left corner, Suze Orman, the wiser, pragmatic financial advisor who reminds me on a weekly basis to be more reserved about money, resist the urge to spend like a drunken sailor, and prioritize those needs over wants.

More than anything else in the world, Ralphie wanted a Little Red Rider BB gun for Christmas. He rattled off all the great features of it to anyone who listened. My Inner Ralphie wants a Cervelo P2 with Ultegra, FSA cranks, and Fizik seat in the worst possible way you can imagine.

Then there's Suze and her "Can I afford it segments?" People call in with their heartfelt desire for a material item. Then she asks them to "show me the money!" The callers divulge their living costs, savings, and debts like they're in a confessional. I've been watching this show long enough to know if she'll "approve" or "deny" the purchase. Kind of fun to play along.

So I could easily hear My Inner Suze glow about that P2. "Oh I hope you can afford it. I wanna see you cruise down PCH all aerodynamic in your Lycra bike outfit! All right, show me what you've got girlfriend!!" My response last year would've been something like "Well, I've got a small savings ...and...er...uh...an empty GU wrapper." Oh, I could hear scream "DENIED!"

It's not easy being me sometimes. My Inner Ralphie and My Inner Suze have gone a full 15 rounds. The final bell has rung. They were formable opponents.

Pardon Me, May I Borrow a Jar of Grey Poupon or a Lung?

2011-02-18T17:52:00.000-08:00

Coach Anastasia doled out quite the workout this week in Master’s Swimming. It was one of those classic hypoxic workouts in an hour-long session.

After a short 200-yard warm-up and another 200-yard set of drills, the oxygen-deficit sets began:

• 8 x 100 w/25 yards breathing every 3 strokes, then 25 yards breathing every 5 strokes, then 25 yards breathing every 7 strokes and the last 25 yards breathing every 3 strokes.

• 500 yards breathing every 5 strokes

• 200-yard cool down

Part way through the workout, I could feel the foot cramps coming on. It made me wish I had some mustard packets in my bag after doing research on swimmers cramps last year. My friend, Jeff, who resides in the fast lane and swam 250 miles last year, swears by those mustard packets.

Not entirely capable of said workout, I found myself gasping for air after 4 strokes when I was trying to do 7. Maybe it was psychological and the mere thought of doing 7 made me choke. Or maybe I was so winded from doing 25 yards breathing every 5 strokes that I had nothing left.

I couldn't help thinking while I was suffering, ‘This is really going to help my conditioning for Oceanside.’ So I started researching hypoxic swim workouts some more and was surprised at what I learned. One of the key benefits of these workouts, according to Total Immersion guru Terry Laughlin, is that they train you to swim more efficiently. You can read more about what he had to say here. A study published in the Journal of Applied Physiology showed that high-intensity hypoxic training on sea-level swimming performances showed a greater improvement for those competing in short duration events. So why are these workouts beneficial for triathletes? The folks at BeginnerTriathlete.com pointed, “Some anaerobic training is essential. You will need to have some speed to break out of the pack, turn a buoy at a proper angle, or to lose the annoying swimmer behind you that's grabbing your ankles.” Based on my personal experience, you can add one more benefit to the list: they help you sleep like a log! Thanks Anastasia :-)

What are your thoughts on hypoxic training?

A Valentine for Triathletes

2011-02-13T13:44:00.000-08:00

On April 2nd, I will be participating in Ironman California 70.3. What makes this one extra special is that I will be racing on the Camp Pendleton base and raising money to help soldiers permanently injured in Iraq and Afghanistan recover through the healing power of sports. I will be racing for team Operation Rebound/The Challenged Athletes Foundation – and have committed to raise $1,000 by March 14th. When I do, I will race alongside eight athletes who have benefited from Operation Rebound.

Part of the reason this cause is so dear to my heart is that I’ve had the opportunity to interview some of the soldiers who were seriously injured in battle while they continued their recovery at Casa Colina Centers for Rehabilitation. U.S. soldiers injured in Iraq are often airlifted to a hospital at Camp Speicher, 42 miles north of Baghdad, then to another military hospital at Camp Anaconda, 60 miles north of Takrit for emergency surgery. Then it’s on to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany, and finally returned on a Medi-vac flight back to Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, D.C. and eventually one of four Veteran’s Administration Hospitals or Casa Colina. They endure multiple operations and weeks, months, or years of physical and occupational therapy.

So, when these men and women are finally ready to participate in sports again, I say “Booya!” Let’s help them do it. I realize times are rough right now, but even the smallest donation will make a huge difference. These soldiers have sacrificed so much for us. Let’s do something sweet for them this Valentine’s Day! Please donate right here.

Your tax-deductible donation will go to high-tech running prosthetics, hand cycles, and the special coaching required to use these new devices for U.S. veterans and active military personnel who have suffered a permanent physical disability and served honorably. The Challenged Athletes Foundation is an incredible 501(c)3 non-profit organization that provides funding and inspiration to hundreds of physically challenged athletes each year so they can participate, compete and live life to the fullest. Thanks so much for giving the gift of sports. Let’s get these challenged athletes off the sidelines – and into the game!

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Ready for a Winter Escape?

2011-02-05T14:12:00.000-08:00

I’m posting this for my friends and followers who are stuck in the deep freeze and have had it up past the snow banks in their driveways by now. Yes, I remember what it was like to miss school three weeks in a row – long before you could email or text your friends. I remember walking to the market and trudging home with the snow suddenly past my kneecaps with arms full of groceries in college (you can call that the “whiteout workout)”. I remember a 40-minute commute that turned into an 8 1/2-hour drive home during a state-of-emergency. I relied on the kindness of strangers to push me out of a Friendly’s parking lot after I stopped for dinner. And then I frantically jumped up and down on the trunk of my car, desperately trying to persuade it to roll forward in an unplowed driveway minutes before it would have been bulldozed by the town snowplow. (If only we had a You Tube video of that – it was priceless.)

So kick back and enjoy a little time in front of your virtual beach here. Throw another log on the fire. Turn up the thermostat a degree or two. And turn on some reggae music. Spring season will be here soon.

W.H.O.O.H.A.!!!!

2011-02-01T10:35:00.000-08:00

I was still on the lookout for one more optimistic sign before my next meditation class. My homework was complete when I did a little shopping last week. Who would’ve thunk it? I came across this cute little t-shirt that was hard to resist. (Green is my favorite color.) ‘Who was the brilliant soul behind this design?’ I wondered as a turned over the tag. Why it’s W.H.O.O.H.A. – which stands for Women Having Optimistic Objectives & Healthy Attitudes. With a name like that I’d say they have healthy attitudes about some other high priorities besides training as well. And for those guys wondering what to get their favorite tri-girl for Valentine’s Day, here’s a cool idea:

The Optimism of a Fat-Tire Unicyclist

2011-01-29T16:43:00.000-08:00

In my last meditation class we watched, Michael J. Fox: Adventures of an Incurable Optimist. It was an interesting documentary on Michael and the subject of optimism. Is it genetic or learned? Watching Michael travel the world in search for answers was inspiring. Watching him play golf with Bill Murrey, despite his spasms from the Parkinson’s was priceless.

After the show was over, my meditation teacher gave us a homework assignment, “Be on the look out for signs of optimism. Come back with two examples to share with the class.” We looked around the room and grinned at the thought of meeting again in a couple of weeks.

So, last weekend I spotted one of them. I was doing my favorite road ride near a state park. Along came this guy on a fat tire unicycle, easily maneuvering past hikers and moving along at a fast clip.

I thought, ‘THAT takes optimism.’ To head out on some ruddy, rugged trails with no handlebars to use for balance or body English to muscle up an incline. No granny gear to fall back on. Just strong quads, a super strong core, and a willingness to go for it. I totally admire this guy.

I’m looking forward to describing him to the group. But of course, I had to share him with you too. Notice any good signs of optimism lately? Feel free to leave a comment. I bet we all would love to read some more. Here he is on the move. (Sorry it's so shaky. I was pretty winded when I took this one.)

Spinervals: On The Road in Tucson

2011-01-28T21:49:00.000-08:00

I’ve been easing into training after an unexpected 2-month hiatus. But the thought of doing Oceanside’s hills in the not-too-distant future, made me think that it’s time to add some hill climbing to my routine. I pulled out a good Spinervals DVD: On the Road in Tucson.

I propped up the front wheel of my bike with some of my old advertising annuals (nothing better than Communication Arts) and played along by following Coach Troy up Mt. Lemmon. Fifteen minutes into it, I was “sweating gumdrops” as my mom used to say. Thirty minutes in I was glistening. Fifty minutes in I was drenched. At the top of the climb after an hour and 23 minutes, my bike and I were soaked. Yeah, Coach Troy has that affect on me.

I highly recommend this DVD for the challenge alone. Most of this workout was done in the big chain ring. Occasionally, I found myself leaning to one side or the other, like I was really there – forgetting I was on the trainer. See? I like playing along. Dare I admit? I do that when I’m watching the Tour de France on the trainer too.

In addition to the 14-mile climb up Mt. Lemmon (your actual mileage will vary on the trainer, of course), there is also a ride up Gates Pass in Tucson.

It’s the Little Things

2011-01-21T13:18:00.000-08:00

At the risk of sounding like I’m gloating, it’s a gorgeous day here in Southern California. It’s also an off day from workouts for me. A chance to rest and get a few things done, like laundry. On the porch, my delicates are hanging from the rafters – yeah, all that racy Lycra stuff is gently flowing in the wind. I look at it with satisfaction and think ‘Yup, it was a good workout week.’

Sleep On It – App

2011-01-12T16:25:00.000-08:00

Rest plays a huge role in our recovery between workouts. I remember when I first took up this sport, my coach told us that if we started getting headaches or interruptions in our sleep, it was a sign of overtraining. And if you’re feeling particularly sluggish, it could also mean you need to back off on your training or your body might be fighting off a bug.

Up until a couple of months ago, keeping a log of my sleep wasn’t very appealing. Sometimes I have a hard enough time recording my workouts. It just seemed a tad over-the-top and arduous, until I discovered Sleep On It. It’s a free iPhone app that’s an alarm clock that allows you to track how long you’ve slept, the quality of your sleep, your mood and other symptoms with the press of a button. It works even if your phone is in sleep mode.

Of course, a lot of things can interrupt our sleep, like my young neighbor who I affectionately refer to as the Gorilla Next Door or the nocturnal Mr. Seven (see previous post) who was doing wind sprints around the house and pounce pick-ups on the bed in the wee hours last night.

Texts from My Unpaid Coach

2011-01-09T16:56:00.000-08:00

Last week, I began my training for Oceanside in earnest. It was also my week to reclaim my life after seven weeks of long hours, seven days a week. (Seven definitely is the theme around here.) All that work made me feel like Seven.

I wanted to ease into my training slowly and give my body time to get used to training for three sports again. Pilates class would also be a must because my body needs it badly right now. I was already tight from work, let alone training. After putting in five days in a row, I took Thursday off. I still felt wiped out on Friday. A double whammy of double groggy for this tri. I decided to make like Seven and take a cap nap for 20 minutes in the afternoon.

That’s when my phone chimed with a text.

Run, run, run, like a
Minnow that just heard
the 70..3 gun!

I love getting texts from Todd, aka My Unpaid Coach. They often remind me of limericks. Minutes later I received another wake-up call/chime:

Swim, swim, swim like a
Minnow that grew some
fins!

Yes, his texts often have a good dose of pep talk in them too. I thought, “Cool! He remembered I’m running Friday and swimming early tomorrow with Master’s.” I was mentally trying to think of something witty about the endurance ride he was planning on his single-speed. A few minutes later, another wake-up call/chime – my favorite one of all:

Ride, ride, ride, till the
Minnow chaps her tail
hide!

Yup, I can always count on my man for a good dose of irreverence too. That did it. I sprung out of bed, still feelin’ a bit like crap and put on my running clothes. I had my best run in a long, long time. And then I answered back:

4.24 mi in 49:23 on the beach!
This flower is headed to the shower.
Your pep talk gave me the power.

Yeah, we’re not poets and we know it. But one thing I know is true, it means the world to know that there’s someone always there for you. My Unpaid Coach is an amazing mountain biker and cyclocross racer, yet he never makes me feel like I’m less than an athlete. Somehow all the training we do apart, ultimately makes us closer.

National Sleep Day

2011-01-03T18:04:00.000-08:00

My art director/designer, Susan, who has been working with me on this huge project sent me an email this afternoon. She wrote, “Just so you know, today is National Sleep Day, so since the due date has been pushed – don’t lose any sleep today.” Ha! This afternoon I did a 3.5-mile run on the beach and an easy half-hour spin on the trainer. Now I’m all squeaky clean and lounging in my pajamas before dinner. Am I ready to celebrate the big day or what? You too.

Pheeeewwwwww!!

2011-01-02T22:10:00.000-08:00

Made it through another year. I've been conspicuously absent the past few weeks. I've been going through the writer equivalent of an Ultraman. A friend recently reminded me that James Patterson is the only writer who writes a book in a few weeks – and he has a team of researchers. I didn't have a team. I had/have a client with a very aggressive deadline. It was the off-season and 623 needs a new bike, so I went for it. I didn't expect to be working from 7:00 a.m. - 10:37 p.m. seven days a week. That was pretty much my schedule lately. For some reason, 10:37 p.m was the magic time when I gave up each night. That was my WALL.

Between October 19 and December 24th, I had one day off. I missed all of my Master's swimming, pilates, weight workouts, and meditation classes. I missed Christmas parties, parades, and shopping. I had a couple of token bike trainer workouts. And I ran on the beach (a stone's throw from my little apartment) 3-4 x a week. I worked the day after Christmas and the morning after that while visiting with Todd's folks. On the ride home from Nevada, I received a blissful text, "The client has postponed the deadline. Happy New Year!" Happy New Year indeed.

I've devoted that past few days to trying to return to some semblance of myself. Cleaning my place, especially papers strewn all over my desk and the floor. Though I'm less uptight, I still feel tight all over. Something about sitting at a desk that many hours, that many days in a row has taken a toll. I need remedial pilates. I need to stretch out in the pool. I need to spin my legs. I need to relax. The best part of my weekend? Not thinking about that project. And taking time to think about the season ahead – and training for it, too.

Swimmer Guy and Tri Girl Animation

2010-10-27T18:20:00.000-07:00

This video cracks me up. I hope that one day that Cervelo ensures that my competition will be dazzled by my prowess. Ha, ha. Kind of long, but there's some good lines in there. Wait for 'em.

“My Friend Wants Your Bike.”

2010-10-23T21:52:00.000-07:00

That’s what my college roommate, Leslie, said to two triathletes as she walked by with her two Boston terriers. Leslie is not a triathlete. She’s a poet. But she gets me. She knows how much I’m pining for a Cervelo P2C or P3C. So when she saw two ladies in this small Pennsylvania town with not one, but both of those bikes, she couldn’t help but blurt it out – “My friend wants your bike.”

I can only imagine their initial looks. What? Leslie explained. It didn’t take them long to realize that no, I wasn’t going to travel 3,000 miles to take their bikes. I simply have a bad case of bike lust. Apparently, they get me, too. “Tell her, these are great bikes,” they said enthusiastically.

Hearing about this exchange made my day. It reminded me of the time my parents brought me back some amazing advertising annuals from a London vacation at the early stage of my advertising career. Or the times that my West Coast friends have called me out of the blue to tell me that curling, Syracuse basketball, the Red Sox or a Patriots game are on TV. I guess when I look at it that way, drooling from long distance isn’t so bad.

I have the belly of a newborn.

2010-10-22T13:12:00.000-07:00

All week my sleep has been disrupted by hunger pangs. Three nights in a row, I had a 1:30 a.m. feeding call. Followed by two nights at 2:30 a.m. And after chugging a 350-calorie Ensure (out of desperation) before I went to bed, I made it all the way to 4:30 a.m.

I can only assume that the change-up in my workout routine has turbo-charged my metabolism. It’s funny because my eating isn’t different – 3 meals with snacks throughout the day. Protein recovery after every workout. My workouts haven’t been the high-mileage, high-yardage sort either. Quite the contrary – I’ve just started running again on the beach for 20-30 minutes, 4-5 times a week, I have a new weight-training routine to try and get some more power/muscle in my legs too, which averages to about 70-minutes of exercise, 2-3 times a week.

If anyone has any ideas as to how I can keep my calories topped off for the night, I’d appreciate your input. And I’ll try not to whine like a baby in the next post.

Trapped Chilean Miner Ran Everyday Underground

2010-10-14T08:27:00.000-07:00

I learned of this through Twitter’s @IronGirl11 (more about her here). The Baltimore Examiner reported that one of those trapped Chilean miners ran 3-6 miles a day underground. Thought I’d pass the link on in case you haven’t read about it yet. There’s something about running that does make you feel like you can handle anything.

Wanna Go to Kona?

2010-10-13T13:37:00.000-07:00

a.) I’d love to compete in the Ironman World Championships some day.

b.) I’ve done the race – once was enough.

c.) I’ve done the race – once is never enough.

d.) I won’t rest until I’ve qualified for the event.

e.) If I were offered a lottery slot, I’d take it.

f.) I’d go as a tri-sherpa to support my favorite athlete(s).

g.) I’d go for the sun, surf & drinks with little umbrellas.

h.) No, no way, never, ever.

Okay, I would’ve used Blogger’s poll widget, but it only allows for really short answers. So, since no one from Price Waterhouse is keeping tabs on the results of this informal poll, feel free to leave your answers in the comments section. And for the record, my answer is e, f, and g.

Endurance Traveler – A New Ironman TV Show

2010-10-11T21:35:00.000-07:00

I’ve been known to watch those reruns of Ironman races, one after the other as they air on Universal Sports. (I usually need a box of Kleenex for them, too. They get me every time.) Now I have a new guilty pleasure. Sharkbait turned me on to this new show called Endurance Traveler, which airs on Fox Sports Net.

What a great concept. It’s a travelogue show that follows the host, Dean Warhaft, as he travels and competes in Ironman races and other endurance events around the world. The first episode I caught showed Dean in Austria, visiting castles and breweries, flipping fish in the kitchen of a world-renown restaurant, and taking a boat tour. I also saw him take a trail run and pre-ride the IM Austria course. Then on race day, I saw him comfortably talk it up for the camera as he competed in his 30th Ironman race and conversed with other athletes on the run.

He made it all look so easy. Judging from his bio that’s probably the way he approaches everything in life. “….Dean Warhaft, an experienced endurance athlete, writer, attorney, land surveyor and amateur chef who has raced, eaten, and explored his way across 6 continents for almost 2 decades.” Kind of makes you want to invite him over for dinner, doesn’t it?

This guy has done races I’ve never even heard of – next up in the DVR queue is the annual Swim Around Key West. And coming up this month, Ironman Mexico and the Reggae Marathon. I love this show for giving me a glimpse of the places I might want to race someday, and the chance to enjoy them vicariously with my legs up on the couch as I recover from my own workouts.

Here’s a link for the Endurance Traveler shows airing in your area.

Kona Coverage

2010-10-11T08:58:00.000-07:00

(If you'd rather wait to see some of the results until the TV coverage in December, don't read this post.)

Some of my triathlon friends scoffed at the idea of watching the live feed of the Ironman World Championships from Kona. Not me. I looked forward to it like Christmas Eve. I couldn't wait to watch the pre-race coverage with my first cup of coffee. We had a nice decadent breakfast around the computer monitor. The footage was amazing.

It almost felt like I was on one of those stand-up paddle (SUP) boards, watching the pros swim. I noticed Andy Potts took several breaths from his right side and then switched and took another 15 or 20 breaths from his left side. Hmmm. That might be worth trying versus breathing every third stroke as I try to adapt to bilateral breathing. The water looked like it wasn't flat, but had layers of light chop on top of some swells. I wondered what it really felt like for the swimmers out there. Not so bad or kind of rough?

The aerial shots of the transition area left me awestruck. I've seen other Ironman events and the transition at Oceanside is pretty cool. There's just something about that shot of Kona with all the bikes waiting for their owners.

Early on with the bike coverage, they showed Macca pass someone in a no-pass zone. I wondered if that would come back to haunt him with a 4-minute penalty later. While I saw most of the coverage, I did slip out for a swim in the Bay with Kristen and Ryan. Maybe more was said about Macca's pass later.

I felt badly for Chrissie Wellington who was too sick to defend her title. It was great to see all of the other pros in action. I was just as impressed by the age groupers, most qualified with uber-fast times. I was particularly interested to see how my 74-year old friend Mickie Shapiro and fellow blogger Beth Walsh did out there. It was sad to see some age groupers miss the cut-off times and their faces as they were told the bad news that they were DQ'd. I'm not sure if Mickie was DQ'd or if she had to drop out halfway through the bike for another reason. She has done Kona several years in the past. This just wasn't her year. I hope she'll try again because she gives me hope that I'll be able to keep doing this when I age up a few more times.

I waited with anticipation for Beth to cross this finish line. I knew she'd climb in the rankings as soon as she hit the run. She was in 33rd place off the bike. By the end of the run, she finished 13th in her division of 30-34 year olds. She crossed the finish line in braids, and at first, I didn't recognize her! I'm simple blown away by her running and mental toughness. She had the fastest female age-grouper marathon time. I'm not surprised. I am thrilled for her!

I thought about Kona a lot in the past 48 hours. I thought about the duel between Chris McCormack and Andreas Raelert in the last few miles of the race. I’m sure it will go down in history as one of the most exciting IM finishes ever. I thought about how Mirinda Carfrae charged on the last half of her marathon. There was an absolute animalistic aggression to her stride that you don’t normally see with distance runners. I thought about the suffering – seeing Chris Lieto lead the race until he started running like the Tinman. One of my favorite athletes from Boston, Dede Griesbauer, finished in tears. Was she disappointed in her performance or just happy to see the finish line after a day that was so physically and mentally punishing? Yes, the pros showed just how tough this race can be too. And I thought about their tenacity. The oldest competitor in the race, 80-year old Lew Hollander, finished in 15:48. Can you imagine? He did:-)

I couldn't help wondering how these athletes felt over the weekend and now. How tired their tri-sherpas must be from hanging out in the hot sun all day, watching for their athletes. And then there's a little part of me who wonders if I'll ever get there some day. I'm not too proud to take a lottery slot. I am too proud to enter the lottery before I significantly improve my skills though. Saturday inspired me to keep doing just that – regardless of whether I ever make it to Kona. There's just something so pure about watching the best of our sport give it their at the big race.

My Adventurous Friends: Tawnee Paddled to Catalina

2010-10-07T11:01:00.000-07:00

My friends have inspired this new series. They’ve embarked on or are planning some pretty epic adventures. Like Tawnee, who recently entered a 27-mile outrigger canoe race to Catalina, which you can read about here. Pretty amazing stuff. Her team of 10 rowers paddled in shifts and for the changeovers, they had to dive back and forth between their outrigger and race support boat like stampeding dolphins.

As much as I love writing and reading about our triathlon adventures, I think this series will provide a nice little break, living vicariously through others. I think it’ll be fun to see what our fellow tris are doing with their off-season or what other athletes are doing to follow their own bliss. So, every now and then, I’ll be looking for more stories just like this one – online and offline. This is where you’ll find those who are willing to go off the beaten path because it’s their true passion and what they were meant to do. And those who are willing to explore something totally new. ‘Cause this is the stuff that makes us all feel alive.

Dolphins Stampede

2010-10-03T21:07:00.000-07:00

Not sure why so many dolphins ended up in this place at once. Could it be that they all hit the "submit" button? This video's caption said the footage was taken near Garden Cove, Newfoundland. Others commented that it looks like Baja. I think they might be right. What do you think?

Facing Your Stuff: Swimmer's Intervention #1*

2010-10-01T15:10:00.000-07:00

A few days after posting my need for a swimmer's intervention, I received an invite from Kristen (TriDiver) to join her in the Bay that weekend. With no race on the horizon for months, I scoffed at entering the cold water again for at least three weeks, until May. (I didn't want to get a cold right before my high-school reunion back in Massachusetts.) Even though I felt lame for declining, I was also grateful and hopeful that I'd have someone to swim with again in the open water soon. Kristen's a phenomenal swimmer. I could learn a lot from her. And even though I couldn't keep up with her, I knew she'd keep a watchful eye out for me. I knew I was about to enter one of the most important triathlon transitions of all – from thinking about it to doing it. I was about to face my stuff. What do you need to face? Comment if you like. Or just grin and think about the possibility of doing it too.

* This series chronicles my friends’ and coaches’ attempts at helping me improve my swimming abilities. These stories appear in an inexact chronological order – past and present – at least for now.

A Swimmer's Intervention – A New Series

2010-09-17T17:17:00.000-07:00

Last April, after my first open water swim of the season, I admitted I was in need of an intervention in the post Confessions of a Hot Pink Buoy. It was an ugly reminder of all the things I still needed to work on with my swim, despite my recent improvements in the pool – I paused for no reason, zigzagged all over the place, and just wanted out. I needed help. A lot of help. And I got it from my dear friends and coaches. For that I will be forever grateful. Though I never got around to posting about them during the big build up to the Vineman 2.4-mile swim, they are still worth blogging about. Those earnest moments where someone patiently imparted wisdom, demonstrated a technique or a drill, watched over me, and encouraged me. And I tried over and over again to absorb it. These insightful workouts were teemed with laughter, frustration, adrenaline, exhilaration, and exhaustion. They lead to endurance and mental breakthroughs I've never had before.

So you'll get to read about these in no particularly order as I call them up from my memory bank and continue to experience them in future workouts. I hope they inspire those non-swimmers out there (like my Pilates instructor, Toni) that it's never too late to try. I hope they inspire runners and cyclists at heart to keep working on their weakest leg of the triathlon. And I hope it inspires the strong swimmers in the blogosphere to pay it forward and give their buds a little help, too. I'll try to keep these posts short and entertaining.

Blame It on USAT

2010-09-05T17:07:00.000-07:00

Last spring, when I registered for Oceanside (the Ironman California 70.3), it was a bit of a shock. The USAT rules state that you must race your age as of December 31, 2011. Which means that I'll have the big "5-0" on my little calf next April. Yup, pretty darn startling when you're still 48.

I lamented to Sharkbait, "I can't believe I'll be racing as a 50-year old next year!" I'm sure I went on about those rules, but that part didn't register. Nope, the thought of aging up is just too exciting to my fellow age groupers. It gives us hope. Perhaps with the advancement in age, we'll also experience a little elevation in our rankings – moving up from the back of the pack to the middle of the pack, or the middle of the pack to could it be? The podium? These are the thoughts that cross our minds when you get to move up into the next group. Yes, most of us care more about our arthritic knees than our graying roots or wrinkles. We're kind of an odd lot.

So, of course, I'll have to forgive my dear friend for jumping the gun last week when she organized a little reunion with our friends who competed at Vineman last month. She threw a wonderful 50th birthday party for me – a day and a year too soon.

I arrived at her front porch to a sign that said, "Celebrate 50!" and "Warning 50th Birthday Party in Progress" police-style, yellow-and-black tape spanning the entryway, hallway, rafters, and hanging lights. I peeked into the doorway with a grin and said, "You're pushing it girl!" She innocently replied, "What d'ya mean? You're 50 tomorrow right?" "No, next year," I answered with a chuckle. "But, but you're racing Oceanside as a 50-year old!" she answered. "I know. It's because of that rule!" I explained.

Oh, it was fun to watch the reality of it all dawn on her face. The realization that she told everyone coming to her house that I was turning 50. It was the quintessential 50th birthday party. My friends wore black. The champagne was flowing. There were funny cards and lollipops that said, "50 Sucks." And a big beaded necklace that said, “Older is Better!”

It was great to see the gang – the twins, Jane and Jean, their cousin, Gina, and Janice. Since they did the Barb's race (70.3), which started an hour and a half after my race, and I did two bike loops, we never crossed paths up there. Lynne Cox, my incredible ocean swimmer friend, stopped by too and gave me some more tips on the sideline drill. She's encouraged me to convert to bilateral breathing, so I'll be working on that this fall.

There was even a beautiful birthday cake. Sharkbait asked me the day before, "Text me your favorite flower (or your Mom's favorite flower) and your favorite color." I answered back "Camilias" (my mom used to have dozens of beautiful camilias in her green house) or, alternatively, tulips (I used to treat myself to a bouquet of those every pay day when I was broke in my 20's). My favorite color is definitely green. Amazingly, the baker produced quite the replicas of camilias. Yes, this cake was very sweet. Just like my friends. And now that I’ve had my “mock 50th birthday,” maybe I’ll be in better shape for the big day.

Vineman AquaBike: The Bike

2010-08-27T13:52:00.000-07:00

I ran out of transition to Todd’s cheers of “Go, MINNOW!” and up the short little hill at the start. The clopping of my bike shoes sounded like a miniature pony. Someone had warned me that a lot of people wipe out here and it might be easier to mount the bike at the top of the hill. I was glad I did.

The first few miles were pretty smooth and uneventful, except that my Garmin stopped working altogether. Would the gadget girl be lost without it? Perhaps it was better not to know all the numbers anyway.

As I made the sharp turn toward Sunset, under the bridge, I played it conservative again. There was a steep little incline from there. I watched a tall, skinny guy lose his chain right in front of me in dramatic fashion, practically did an endo with his sudden stop. For the next hour, I got passed a lot – seemed like every time I shifted gears with that stalling ka-chunk, ka-chunk, ka-chunk sound, someone went by me. Yes, the views of the wine country were incredible. So were the number of asses I looked at along the way. Okay, I was humbled mile after mile, like the Lantern Rouge.

Yet I still felt victorious to be out there. This was way better than rehab. This was what I waited for since I signed up in January. This was going to be one of the most memorable races of my life, even if it didn’t all go according to my a, b, or c plans. And when it came right down to it, I knew I was competing with myself anyway. Could I maintain a decent pace for hours and hours? Could I keep going and complete my goal?

The first 20 miles of the race, I was still cold from the swim. It was a gorgeous, sunny day. I felt pretty good about my first loop. I made it up Chalk Hill no problem. I was excited about seeing Todd at the turn for the connection of the second lap. I looked forward to seeing him, so I was very bummed when I didn’t see him. I asked a runner the time and discovered I was a half hour off my if-worse-comes-to-worse goal time. The first 56 miles took me 4 hours. What? How could that be? I felt pretty good.

My thoughts went to ‘Where’s Todd? Calling Missing Persons already. Was he worried or just stepped away for a minute and missed me?’ The next stop was the Special Needs Bag area. It was supposed to be a mile up the road. It was a couple of miles up the road. When I arrived, there was Todd flashing pictures like a proud little league parent.
I was so happy to see him. He saw how helpful the volunteers were and the next thing I knew he had them all working to help me out. One girl patiently held my bike while I waited for a port-a-potty. Another guy fished out my bag and had it ready for me. Todd snuck in a couple of kisses, shoulder rubs, and pep talks like, “Don’t forget to pour water on yourself, if you need it. And don’t worry about the time. If it takes you 10 hours, that’s fine.” I was relieved to hear him say it. And I got plenty of “Does he have a brother?” looks from the other athletes and volunteers. I wasn’t going through my nutrition as much as I planned. I was starting to feel the effects of the heat. I took a fresh bottle and left him with some half empty ones.

During the course of the next 10 miles, I saw Todd off and on. He was on his mountain bike, snapping more pictures. He was careful not to ride next to me or interfere with anyone else. At this point in the race, there weren’t a lot of riders on our end of the course. When we reconnected with mile 9 of the first loop, Todd left me.

It was just too tempting to ride those roads with the police manning all the intersections. He needed to shake his legs out after all that driving and working extra long days before we left. It was sort of a spontaneous call on his part. He didn’t have much water in his Camelbak. Most of his rides haven’t been long lately. But he’s a super strong rider. The other day he sent me this from his Garmin. A fuzzy picture that shows his max speed of 50.1 mph on a mountain bike.
See? Even on his knobby tires, he’s faster than a lot of people. Not just little ol’ me in the back of the pack. He tried to be discreet as he made his way through the course and passed the aid stations. But as the saying goes “He stuck out like a pearl onion on an ice cream sundae” as he went by, getting shocked looks from people on their tri bikes. At the 40-mile mark, he admits he bonked. He gratefully took some water from the aid station. At the 50-mile mark, he stopped in a fast food joint for a chicken sandwich. He sat there feeling uneasy for the first time about me finishing the race. He knew I’d probably finish, but also realized just how challenging the course was too.

During the last loop, I stopped at every aid station. I don’t know if I really needed to stop, but I wanted a break. They weren’t long stops, but I was definitely playing it safe, knowing my nutrition didn’t go as planned that day. I had to walk the last quarter mile of Chalk Hill, which surprised me. I heard an official yell, “You have an hour to make the cut-off!” I was surrounded by people doing the full Ironman that afternoon. I asked the woman next to me if she was doing the full and she looked like she was ready to cry as she said, “Yes.” It was only 12 more miles to the transition, much of it downhill. In the back of my mind I wondered, ‘Do I have a cut-off too?’ I motored (for me), topping 25 mph in places. I knew I had time.

I was so happy to see the banner for the transition and then cross the Aquabike finish line. A sweet volunteer gave me a hug after she placed the finisher’s medal around my neck. Todd beamed, cheered and asked me to stay where I was for pictures. And then had me pose for some more. I laughed at the complete role reversal. That’s exactly how I act at HIS races. Ha! He handed me a cup of cold root beer that he got at the fast food joint and it the spot. Then I realized why it was so important that he got those pictures. The race photographer had left that station only a few minutes earlier to get the runners out on the course. I was one of the back-of-the-pack stragglers who he couldn’t wait for any longer. It was my first multi-sport race in two years.I finished in 10 hours and 18 minutes. It didn’t matter. I still beamed with pride that I did it. And I was grateful for the best race support along the way – the lifeguards, race volunteers, and especially Todd.

Vineman AquaBike: The Swim

2010-08-12T14:21:00.000-07:00

We got up at 3:15 a.m. for the race. I felt fairly relaxed for that first hour. The butterflies kicked in as we headed down River Road to the event. By the time Todd parked the car on Armstrong Woods Road, I was in a full state of pre-race, adrenalin-loaded, ha-you’re-not-that-calm-after-all alert. Okay, I had to put my head between my knees and I didn’t want to leave the car. I’m just thankful it didn’t hit me until then.

Todd coaxed me out of the car at 5:45 a.m. and we joined the other athletes making the walk to the transition. I felt better when we arrived there. It helped to see other nervous folks, too. The women who I shared a rack with looked like they were seasoned athletes and very fit. Todd patiently waited outside the transition area for me. After I exited, he stayed with me as long as possible. I’m pretty sure I was the only athlete getting her shoulders and back rubbed as we waited to enter the water. Definitely got a few looks.

This picture above shows just how apprehensive I was feeling that morning. I laughed when I saw it on my computer. But then Todd pointed out everyone around me looked the same way – as if we’re all saying, “Do I have to do this?” “Do I have to do this?” “Do I have to do this?” I guess that made of iron feeling comes later, huh? After all what did I have to be afraid of?!

Um yeah, that – the washing-machine-like churn at beginning of swim starts gets the best of me sometimes. Okay, more often that not. Add in the fact that this was my first race in two years and a good swift kick in the goggles from a tall guy and apparently it was enough for me to have what I’m guessing was a panic attack. Never had one before, but I couldn’t catch my breath for a couple of minutes. Which made it hard to put my head in the water to swim freestyle. I assured the lifeguard, “I’m fine. I swam this distance in practice. It’s just race starts get to me.” “You’ll be all right,” she reassured me “Just try to relax.” I felt foolish breast-stroking when I wanted to get going with the group.

Later when I told Todd what happened, he exclaimed, “That was you?! I remember thinking ‘oh someone’s not having a good day out there.’”

After about 150 yards, all was well and I didn’t need to stop anymore. I was happy because I was swimming steady and straight. This was not the case a couple of months ago. (I did thank that lifeguard on my second lap!)

I had a couple of moments when I got pushed or hung on to more than an innocent strike of another athlete’s hand or foot. Ryan tried to prepare me for those times in the Bay. When they happened, my old martial arts mentality came out and I defended myself. One chick pushed down on my shoulder and neck. I reared back my left arm and yelled, “HEY!” I got a “Sorry!” and moved on. A mile later I felt this big, bulky guy hanging on to me. I thought ‘What’s he doing?’ and then, ‘Oh, this isn’t good.’ I ended up stopping and pushing him away from me with both arms. Which makes me chuckle now. He raised his big, bald, head up like a confused sea turtle. He had no swim cap on. I have no idea what wave he supposed be a part of but I didn’t want to give him a ride down the river.

At the buoy turns I saw a lot of people walking, which seemed unnecessary and a really slow way to tackle the course. It was shallow, but you could go a lot faster adjusting your swim stroke and forging ahead than standing up and wading through it. Even though I have long arms, I didn’t need to do anything differently. For the first time in my life, I passed quite a few people in the waves that started ahead of me. I was pleased to be a little more competitive, despite my really wimpy start.

I had two goals in mind: 1.) Try to complete the swim in 1:30, 2.) Try not to look like hell for the race photo and Todd when I make it across the mat. I finished in 1:36. Otherwise, I was pretty happy. They even had volunteers to strip our wetsuits off. Last November, my knee still hurt and I couldn’t fathom swimming 2.4 miles. This was a victory – no matter how I placed in my age group.

Vineman AquaBike: The Pre-Race Prep

2010-08-07T09:12:00.001-07:00

We drove up Thursday for the Saturday race. A long drive for us – almost 500 miles. At a cozy little restaurant that night, we played a game of guessing who was racing that weekend. Todd realized there would be no escaping enthusiastic triathletes.

While we waited for our food, a couple of nice guys who had done the race before struck up a conversation with us. Even though we felt badly that their wives and children were suddenly invisible, we were glad they did. They had both done the Full AquaBike (2.4-mile swim and 112-mile bike). They warned me that if the river was too shallow to swim in places, definitely avoid walking under the bridges where there might be broken glass from tossed beer bottles. They told us where the tricky spots were on the course – like Sunset Avenue. And described their incredible training mileage. (They do 60-90 mile rides every Tuesday.)

Sharkbait had sent me an email earlier about pre-race nutrition. So a big breakfast was on tap Friday morning. Then we went to Guerneville to check out the Russian River. While I was there I bumped into my former TriDiva teammate Olga and her trusty sherpa, John. I really liked the venue. It seemed less intimidating than a big harbor with waves.

Next we headed out to explore the bike course. We drove the whole course, including the eight-mile connection to the second loop for the Full Aquabike course. We went past miles and miles of vineyards. (Todd’s nickname is “Toad” so we had to stop at Toad Hollow Vineyard.) The roads were rough in a lot of places and, to be completely honest, it wore us out. Not the best confidence builder the day before the race, but for safety reasons, we had to see the course. After picking up my race packet, we headed straight back to the hotel for lunch and a nap.
We were too full from breakfast and lunch to even think about dinner. We’re used to small meals and opted for a protein drink instead. I did a quick spin on the trainer to open up the capillaries and prep my legs for the next day. Then Todd prepped my bike. I thought he was just going to lube the chain. He’s pretty meticulous about bike prep, so it became more involved.

When we first started dating, he said I needed to give my bike a sexy name. I decided to call it “Macca.” After trying to fine-tune the derailleur for a couple of hours, he had a few other choice names for the bike. (And phrases flew out like, “You’re never racing on this thing again.”) Suffice it to say, its new nickname is “Cat 5.” Okay, so the pre-race jitters hit Todd first. He took his role as unpaid mechanic, race sherpa-extraordinaire very seriously. And I loved him for it. Sacked out a little later than planned, but slept like a rock for the first time ever before a race. It really helped having him there.

Pre-Race Prep: Changing-a-Flat-Tire Session

2010-07-27T20:30:00.000-07:00

For the past two years, the closest thing I’ve come to a triathlon is watching the Ironman World Championship re-runs on Versus. The images of Normann Stadler chucking his wheel after his second flat of the day in 2006 and Chrissie Wellington standing on the side of the road begging for a CO2 cartridge from any racer in 2009 were stuck in our heads. Personally, I’ve never flatted on my road bike in the four years I’ve owned it – which meant that I was not only darn lucky, but also a tad rusty at changing tubes.

I didn’t want to go up to Vineman unprepared. So I asked Todd for a refresher. He also picked up some new tires and race tubes for me. First I practiced on the old tires and tubes. Then the new tires with the old tubes. And finally the new tires with the new tubes. It was a workout. In two hours, I think I changed about 10 tires.

While putting the rear wheel back on, I accidentally bopped him in the nose. I felt terrible until I saw that his nose had a big black circle from the grease on my hands. He was in that serious focus-get-it-right mode. And I got the serious giggles. I’m happy to report no serious damage was done and I can now change a tire in a few minutes – dare I say it? Flat! Phew! (Thanks Todd!)

The mental checklist/steps for changing a tire:

1. Let the rest of the air out of the tire.
2. Remove the washer for the stem.
3. Prop the tire against your torso with the stem of the tire at the top (@ 12 o'clock).
4. Start loosening the tires grip on the rim all the way around.
5. Pry the tire off the rim from the top with a good pull.
6. Slip your finger (or a tire lever) into the space created by that good pull.
7. Draw your finger down and around, quickly working the rest of the tire off the rim.
8. Push the stem of the tube through its hole and pull out the tube.
9. Reach into the inside of the tire with a couple of fingers and feel for the thorn or piece of glass that caused the flat.
10. Push the culprit out with a rock or stick to avoid cutting your finger.
11. If you have a sidewall gash in your tire, use a dollar bill or a Clif bar wrapper to insulate the tire on the inside – that’ll work in a pinch.
12. Grab the new tube, take the plastic piece off the stem (you don’t need it; it’s there to protect the tube while it’s folded up in your saddle bag), loosen the opening of the stem, and start the inflation with a blow from your mouth.
13. Place the tube back into the tire, making sure there are no funny folds or pinches.
14. Replace that little washer around the stem.
15. Work the tire back onto the rim, making sure the beading lines up by shimmying your hands around without letting go of where you made headway. For example, left, left, left shimmy, hold…right, right, right shimmy hold. Before you know it, your tire will be back in place ready to inflate.
16. Now make sure the stem valve is open, really open. Especially if you’re inflating with a CO2 cartridge.
17. The stem should be positioned at the top of the wheel so that the CO2 cartridge will be positioned in an upside down position.
18. Thread the CO2 cartridge onto the stem.
19. Give it a small test blast to make sure it’s inflating right before you blow the whole cartridge.
20. Make sure you cup your hands around the CO2 cartridge/dispenser to keep the air from escaping.
21. Okay, now let it inflate all the way.
22. Tighten that washer up a bit more. It’ll be loose after you’ve inflated the tire all the way.
23. If you’re putting your rear wheel back on, be sure to put the chain in the smallest chain ring first to ease it back on easily.

Voila! Your flat tire is fixed. Practice this a few times and you’ll be all set. Don’t have time before your race? Hmmm, maybe print out this list and stuff in your saddlebag just in case.

Todd’s Run-in with a Mountain Lion

2010-07-18T14:28:00.000-07:00

As long as I’ve known Todd, he has frequently quipped, “I’m going to go play with the mountain lions” before his training rides. He has told me about the times he has spotted the shadow of a mountain lion as he traversed some arid trails at a fast clip. A couple of weeks ago, he had his first face-to-face encounter with one. An adolescent male ready to rumble on the Tijeras Creek trail. Out of the corner of his eye, Todd spotted the mother mountain lion nearby across the stream. He knew she could be there to help her son in the blink of an eye.

In my twenties and thirties, I took many different styles of martial arts to learn how to defend myself. I remember vividly, my first instructor told us, “If you don’t react within the first 10 seconds of an attack, you’re going to be a victim.” According to the experts, that’s true for mountain lions, too.

Fortunately, Todd did react quickly as he has done before when caught in harm's way. Here are his accounts of this encounter, which he posted on Facebook.

“Unfreaking believable! A young mountain lion on Tijeras Creek trail got a major attitude with me today. It would not back down, and seemed to want a brawl. WTF?! Luckily another Mtb'er came along and helped me scare it off - along with 3 blasts from my pepper spray.”

The truly amazing thing about this afternoon was why we have his brother, Ken, to thank.

“So funny how it all worked out. My brother Ken came over while I was prepping my bike Sat morning. He asked if I thought about lions anymore. I said, "No, it has been over 5 yrs since my friend Mark was attacked and killed by a lion". He rolled his eyes and walked away. Just before I rolled Ken handed me a can of pepper spray with a note attached to it. It said something that we should all remember ... "Don't forget you're a part of the food chain." Thanks my brother, I owe you a tall brew!!!”

Yeah bro, we are so grateful for that act. And we’re certain it saved Todd’s life. The park rangers did close down that trail for a few days as mountain lion tracks were confirmed. Here’s what Todd posted a couple of days later:

“I'll get a mountain lion update soon. The Rangers have closed Tijeras Creek trail and are searching the area right now. The lions that I encountered on Sat. showed no fear of humans, and that fact makes me very worried about the next confrontation.”

This was his final update:

"I heard from Lori, the O'Neil Park Ranger. They have not found any fresh mountain lion tracks since Sat., so they re-opened Tijeras Creek trail. Fish & Game was notified and Animal Control did get involved. For now though, it seems that my aggressive fury friend is roaming free!"

Even though it was six years ago, I don’t think any of us will forget the mountain lion attacks on Mark Reynolds and Anne Hjelle.

We ride with the hope and the thought that ‘It won’t happen to me.’ But when you actually have a close call, it has a way to sticking with you for a bit. How can it not get under your lid? Todd took three days off from riding. He even went swimming. (A far cry from what this guy's idea of a tri is – single-speed mountain biking, geared mountain biking, and road biking.)

I think he expected me to lecture him about the dangers of riding out there. But I know I could never keep him off the trails if I tried. I wouldn’t want to for that matter. The trails are what bring him joy and a true zest for life. That’s his “Zen.” I wouldn’t want to take that away from him. And I know he won’t let that mountain lion take it away from him either.

Last week, he bought three cans of pepper spray from the local sporting goods store – one for me, one for his brother Ken, and one for himself. He wrapped a couple of beefy rubber bands around it to keep it from slipping out of my cycling jersey easily. And gave me a lesson on how to use it. Hopefully, I never will. But I do feel better with it on me, knowing it helped save his life.

NOTE: Even if you’re not a mountain biker, you should know that many of the local paved bike paths are corridors for mountain lions to travel as they hug streams and rivers. Please be aware of your surroundings and consider carrying pepper spray. Do not run away or crouch down if you encounter a mountain lion. Make yourself look big by lifting your bike above your head. For more tips, go here.

My First Century – Gran Solo

2010-06-21T10:48:00.000-07:00

With the Full Aquabike looming at the end of July, it was time to tackle my first 100-mile ride. Anyone who knows me well knows I try to keep all my cycling workouts off-road ‘cause that’s how I roll. I do my hill workouts by hitting the trails on my knobby tires. I do my time on the trainer with the Spinervals DVDs. And I do my other rides on the bike paths in the area.

Sometimes I luck out and have company on those bike path rides. But on this beautiful Saturday, it didn’t work out. I had to go solo. Todd was supportive, but knew I had a rough week with way too many deadlines, etc. “Listen to your body. If you’re not feeling it, you can bail and do it next week.” I knew he was right.

I have never ridden 100 miles on the bike in my life. I had no idea how my body would react after not having enough sleep or calories the previous 10 days. I just knew I wanted it behind me, so I could focus more on my open water swimming for the race.

Funny how these big workouts feel like races, prepping the bottles, lubing the bike, laying out the clothes and the snacks the night before. I had my first cup of coffee at 4:45 a.m. Parked my car near the bike path just after sunrise. Started the Garmin at 6:21 a.m. To help acclimate to the heat of Santa Rosa, I did the entire workout in layers – tights, long-sleeve shirt, and bike jacket.

For some odd reason, I felt the best I’ve ever felt on the bike. (What a difference: Last weekend, I had to cut my hill workout short.) For some really odd reason, time seemed to pass quickly too. You never know what (or who) you’re going to see out on the bike path.

There were two highlights of this ride. I saw an older guy riding down the path on a beach cruiser without a helmet wearing safety goggles – like the ones you’d use with a power saw. And as I pulled into a park to hit the little girls room, I met a woman unloading her tri bike. Turns out it was Deena from Survivor Amazon! It was fun to talk with her briefly about her adventures and triathlon. Then it was back to business and the remaining 76 miles ahead of me.

After six hours and forty-five minutes of ride time, I stopped the Garmin at exactly 100 miles – with a view of the Pacific Ocean and the smell of salt air and smoke from barbecue grills. Even though the bike path is kind of flat in comparison to others places, I still ended up doing almost 2400 feet of climbing. Yay!

Okay, sometimes this blogging truly just feels like bragging, but I’m over-the-moon happy that I reached this milestone after rehabbing my knee and leg for a solid year and a half. And it was always the mystery of the universe how all the other people I know and admire rode that far before. Just gotta keep pedaling.

Who knows if I’ll ever get on a podium in triathlon, but Todd made me feel like I won the yellow jersey when he surprised me last night with these beautiful yellow-and-red roses!

Vacation: Day 1 – Walden Pond & Nesting

2010-05-10T18:07:00.000-07:00

On the first day of our vacation back to my old neck of the woods, we came, we saw, we conquered. The locals in Massachusetts pronounce “Concord” just like “Conquered.” The tourists call it “Concorde” like the jet. And Todd, the big tease, spent the rest of the week referring to it as “Con-curd” as often as possible in every conversation.

So with hardly any sleep after the red eye, I gave him the tour. First I did something I’ve never done. I took him shopping to a few of my favorite spots. One in particular was Nesting. I introduced Todd to one of the owners, Wendi, who has a flare for displaying the old with the new, and making it all look so inviting. What I loved about this visit was that Wendi had a chance to tell Todd some stories about my mother. My mom used to rave about Nesting, so I’ll carry on the tradition.

Afterwards, I took him to Walden Pond and showed him the site of Henry David Thoreau’s cottage. The local park built a replica of his home, too, which we explored.

Then we went on a nice hike along the edge of this large pond, which is 1.7 miles across and 103 feet deep.

When we arrived at the Lifeguard building and the steps leading to the pond, we met a couple of triathletes. Here are Jennifer and Cary ready to brave the 57-degree water. They looked like strong swimmers as they headed out across the pond.

As I came across this sign, a quote from Thoreau, I couldn’t help thinking that this is the philosophy so many of us, triathletes and endurance athletes, embrace.

No Longer Protecting His Identity

2010-04-26T22:53:00.000-07:00

This is 734, the secret “prison” number name given to this rescue, which equals my blog name +111. (Who knew? Not me for the longest time!) 734, known around here as, “Seven.” is one of the most acrobatic critters around. Every morning he has to have his workout. He snatches one of my snapped ponytail holders out of the air, quickly places it in his mouth, and brings it back to his owner. He dribbles thrown kibbles like a Laker. He chases the feather on a stick like a wild lion attacking his prey. And he’s very serious about all. of. it.
This is his performance coach, who I’ve referred to as “734’s Dad” for a long time now. He’s quite the athlete too. An amazing mountain biker on gears and single-speed who prefers to keep it low-key (hence the anonymity all this time). Out of the blue, he mentioned to me, “You can use my name on your blog.” Hey everybody, meet Todd. His nickname is “Toad.” From now on, I’ll refer to him as one or the other.

This seems to be the week where he gets to meet everyone. Last night, he met my Ironman friends at Ryan’s send-off dinner for Ironman St. George. And this week, he’ll finally meet my dad. We’re heading back east for a visit and my high-school reunion. Can’t wait. And can't wait for the texts from TriDiver reporting in Ryan's splits. Yup, Saturday is going to be a big day for all of us.

Confessions of a Hot Pink Buoy

2010-04-14T14:46:00.000-07:00

Recently, I met TriDiver for my first open water swim of the season. We were looking forward to catching up over coffee and it seemed like a good opportunity to fit in a short swim.

The last time we swam together, I wore my blue cap. She reminded me that it was harder to see and I should stick to brighter colors. I went with the hot pink one this time around.

TriDiver is fun to swim with because she’s a natural in the water. When she dives in, she has this happy energy that reminds me of Flipper (the early 70’s version). There was no hesitation on her part. She had already been in the bay several times this winter, helping Ryan train for Ironman St. George.

I entered the water with much less zest. It was shockingly cold. I started with a breaststroke for about twenty feet before I dunked my head in. Ice cream brain freeze. Whoa! Pink cap out of the water. Back to treading water. This was not what I envisioned at all. I was so looking forward to demonstrating my new and improved stroke from all those Master’s workouts this winter.

My brain under the influence of brain freeze was having an internal battle. Left brain was being super critical. Right brain was trying to give myself a pep talk to keep going.

I made it to the dock, which was my goal, and headed back to the bridge. On the way back, my swim was interrupted just as many times by my distaste for the saltiness of the water. I felt like Lucy after being kissed by Snoopy. Bleah! Oh, yuck! Gag me.

I made it back to the bridge. TriDiver soon followed after going quite a ways farther. When she returned, she said, “I thought I saw a pink buoy out there and realized it was you. I know you can swim faster than that. What happened?” We laughed as I recounted my non-swimming antics out there. The seagulls did fly over me with some hesitation like maybe they found a new place to land.

I’m a head case. I know I need to undo all that mental muscle memory I’ve had for years that I’m not good at open water swimming. I need to get over it. I need an intervention – help from my friends. I’ll cut myself some slack for the first swim not going so well. I’ll give the bay a little more time to warm up. And me a little more time to warm up to the idea of doing a lot more open water swims there and elsewhere. Either that or I need to find one of those frilly flowery, multi-colored bathing caps, so I can really make a spectacle of myself and scare off the birds.

April Fool’s Fashion Statement

2010-04-02T19:32:00.000-07:00

Some people are really good at April Fool’s jokes. Like 734’s Dad. Last year, he had me convinced that my XTERRA idol, Melanie McQuaid, hit on him. Evil. My April’s Fool’s joke was much more innocent. I chose to wear it.

I strut into Pilates class yesterday in these vintage 80’s Lycra tights with funky type that says “dangerous.” Anything to give the class – a mix of sweet old ladies and injured athletes – a lift. Our instructor, Toni, always mentions that she likes it when we wear stripes because she can see our alignment better. In Pilates, stripes are the new lie detector.

Okay, where on earth did I find such a find? A couple of years ago after my mother passed away, my sisters and I went through her clothes. It was the saddest week of our lives. As we opened a chest of clothes, we uncovered these and were overcome with fits of giggles. Mom was a fashion-forward woman. The idea of her working out in these at the gym in her 60s made us happy. My sister Jane threw them to me and said, “Oh yeah, these are you. I think you need to run on the beach in these some foggy morning.” I grabbed them with a grin.

Somehow, yesterday felt like the perfect day to pull them out of the closet. They were a hit with the class. Sue, my workout buddy who is in her 70s, turned to me and said, “Your mother must’ve been pretty fit to wear those.” “Yes, she was,” I answered.

Today, my mom still inspires me as I train for the AquaBike. I’m not sure how much racing I’ll do this season beyond that event. Only time will tell. But next year, watch out. I’ll be “dangerous.”

How to Cure Swimmer’s Cramps

2010-03-31T17:45:00.000-07:00

There’s something about Monday night’s Master’s Swimming workouts that brings on cramps – from the toes to the calf muscles. When I first joined the group at the end of last year, I thought it was just my lack of fitness and tolerance for the cold.

I’ve since discovered I have lots of company in the pool. Coach Mary gives us some pretty intense sets to start the week. We’re peggin’ our heart rates. We’re pushing hard off the wall. And we’re in the pool for the better part of an hour-and-a-half.

We were laughing about it in the locker room. I mentioned that I heard quinine water is supposed to help leg cramps. Another woman piped up, “My son and his water polo teammates use mustard packets. That does the trick right away.” And then another added, “I heard pickle juice is supposed to help.” Who knew? The edge of our pool may soon turn into a deli counter. Perhaps I should bring a jar of Grey Poupon and plastic spoons for my lane.

Curiosity got the best of me. I had to do some more research to see if there was anything to these proposed cures. It turns out pickle juice and mustard help if your cramps are caused by a deficiency in acetylcholine, the neurotransmitter that stimulates your muscles to work. Another folk remedy is apple cider vinegar (mix 2 teaspoons with a teaspoon of honey), which is high in potassium.

I learned there are four main causes for cramps in the water:

1. Dehydration
2. Fatigue
3. Electrolyte Deficiencies
4. Cold water (hypothermia)

And beyond hot dog condiments, it is recommended to:

1. Consume fluids and/or electrolyte replacement drinks during your swim workouts.
2. Train consistency 3-5 times per week (oh, there goes that frequency tip again).
3. Eat a banana every day.
4. Eat foods rich in calcium and magnesium, such as dairy and leafy green vegetables.
5. Consider calcium and magnesium supplements.
6. Stretch and warm up on dry land before you go into cold water.
7. Don’t sprint right away in cold water if you’re not adequately warmed up and acclimated to the temperature.

It’s a cold, windy night and I have another Master’s session outside tonight. Time to prepare some hot Cytomax for my thermos, take my minerals supplements, and eat a banana before I head to the pool.

Frequency

2010-03-29T13:25:00.000-07:00

The training for the Vineman Aquabike has definitely picked up steam in the past few weeks, leaving me out of steam more often for other things – like posting here. It seems like I’m always somewhere between bonking and conking out. I’m adjusting to more swimming. I’m still working on getting used to a lot more pedaling. I expect to improve a lot in the coming months.

As I looked at my friends’ Oceanside race results, I couldn’t help but be inspired and think to the future. 734’s Dad gave me a nice little pep talk over pancakes this morning, “You know if you want to get better, you’re going to have to add more frequency.” So that will be my goal in the weeks ahead. More frequency n the pool, in the open water, on the bike, and here. Frequency. Expect more posts. Expect them to be short and sweet.

A Sharp Jolt

2010-03-17T20:54:00.000-07:00

I’ve been having some vivid triathlon dreams lately. (Fodder for future posts, no doubt.) I think I was in the middle of having another one in the wee hours of Tuesday morning when I felt a sharp jolt. The bed shook. The building shook. And then another strong one. It was that eerie familiar wake-up call of an earthquake.

I lay there wondering if I was near the epicenter. Or if it happened far away and did a lot of damage somewhere. I thought of the poor people of Haiti and Chile. I thought of an email Keith, my trail patrol partner, sent me recently from a rescue worker who pontificated about how we were all taught to do the wrong thing during earthquakes. We shouldn’t get under furniture or stay in our cars. We should lay down in the fetal position beside large objects where there will be pockets of air to survive without being crushed.

I thought about how in the old days when I first moved out here, an earthquake automatically meant a call to my big sister down the street. And in more recent days, I would have logged on to the U.S. Geological Survey site to see how big it was and where it hit. Not this time. I rolled right over and went back to sleep to the sound of the rafters heaving like I was on a boat. I’d love to say that I’ve turned into a laid-back Californian, but that would be a lie. I was still groggy from the previous night’s master’s swim.

As it turned out, the epicenter was less than 15 miles away. A relatively mild 4.4 earthquake occurred at 4:04 a.m. I wonder if my next race number will have a bunch of 4’s.

An Ironman with Training Wheels

2010-02-11T10:18:00.000-08:00

After a year and a half off from racing, it was time to think about doing another tri. But since I’m still dealing with some atrophy in my left leg, the idea of doing much running didn’t appeal – even though I’m a runner.

I was just enjoying getting back into a more regular routine of training. I swear I missed my friends and the lifestyle more than the races – even though the races act as a big giant carrot to motivate me to train.

In January, I had an epiphany on the way home from my Master’s Swim workout. ‘Hey, if I can swim 3,000 yards now, maybe I can swim 2.4 miles by the summer.’ I kept that thought to myself for a couple of weeks.

Then I confessed my crazy thought-slash-pipe dream to Sharkbait. And later that week, I asked my trail patrol partner, The Governor, if he thought I could ride my bike 112 miles by the summer. (He knows I’m out of shape and I’ve never done a century in my life.) And since, I can be really insecure sometimes I got three more second opinions. I asked my swim coach, Mary, 734’s Dad, and my rehab therapist, Quinn, if they thought I could go those distances. No one hesitated – except me.

‘Should I do it? Should I do it?’ After thinking about it another day, I finally hit the ‘Submit’ button. Game on. I’m doing the Full Vineman Aquabike on July 31st. It’ll be just like doing an Ironman without the 26-mile run-walk-‘til-I-drop. It will give me a chance to really work on my triathlon weaknesses. And it will give me time to gain back all that quad muscle strength before I do some serious running and racing again. I’m going long with the goal of getting strong.

I Couldn’t Stop Staring

2010-02-02T19:48:00.000-08:00

Last year, I saw an older woman with a walker enter the rehab pool. She had a t-shirt with big letters bedazzled in silver dots that said, “FIERCE.” That pretty much described the weather out here in the past couple of weeks.

The music in our pilates class was interrupted by a tornado warning issued by the National Weather Service. We were dumbfounded. That doesn’t happen in Southern California. If anything, we get waterspouts offshore. We used levity to hide our concern and joked about taking shelter under the reformer.

When I got out to my car, there were two messages from 734’s Dad. And by the time I got home, the phone rang again and this time it was my dad in Boston, sounding a tad agitated because he saw my neighborhood on the news. Turns out the tornado touched down two miles from my place.

I had no idea. I downplayed the whole thing and said the news trucks always hang out for the waves and the puddles in January. Ha, I had NO idea a truck and two boats had been flipped nearby. Roofs had been torn off and windows broken.

I live near the beach with an ocean view. Watching the waves come in was like watching fireworks. I couldn’t stop gawking at them. And in the middle of the night, if the wind howled a little too much, I ran into the living room – away from the windows. We had tons of people who came by our pier to assess the damage to the beach and take pictures of the ocean. Pictures that only told half the story. Because the sound that they made, the smell, and the way they shook the shore and the pier was nothing short of FIERCE.

A Soggy Metamorphosis

2010-01-15T21:43:00.000-08:00

After only a half dozen Master’s swimming workouts, I’m starting to notice a few distinct changes.

1. I can swim a lot farther than I thought. Last night my training log calculated 7.59 miles so far this year. (In a perfect world, it would’ve been 7.34, but Coach Mary pushed me to go longer.)
2. I’m learning how to do swim strokes that I’ve never really attempted before because no one ever made me or showed me how to do them. My backstroke isn’t pretty, but I haven’t caused any damage to my training partners yet.
3. I’m cramping so badly during workouts that my body feels possessed after 1,500-2,000 yards. I figure my toes and calves are going through an adaptation phase. Or maybe it should be classified as hazing since this Master’s group feels a bit like a sorority when we’re laughing about our workouts in the locker room.
4. My laundry hamper is piling up a lot faster with big towels.
5. I’m frequently reaching for those Swimmer’s eardrops.
6. I’m positively giddy with endorphins after each workout.
7. My happiness quotient has gone way up.

Sharkbait noticed a difference too. Near the end of Wednesday’s workout, she called out to me from a couple of lanes away with a smile and a nod of approval, “You’re gliding!” “What?” I replied. “You’re gliding!!” “Oh,” I answered. A compliment on my swimming definitely takes a little while to register. I wondered, ‘Have I ever glided before? And if so, when?’ There I go overanalyzing things again. Who cares? For one length of the pool, it happened. I had a witness.

I’m ending this post with a shout out to some of my favorite bloggers. This week’s Six’s Picks include the new Mr. and Mrs. James Walsh, Running is Funny, TriTawn, Steve in a Speedo?! Gross! (and his lovely wife Pharmie).

Seven is the Magic Number

2010-01-10T18:51:00.000-08:00

Last year, I reluctantly kept track of my workout log. I found myself filling in some of the blanks at the end of ’09 like it was the week before taxes. I pieced things together by asking for copies of my workout log at the gym and scanning my Garmin data. Sadly, most of my swim workouts never got recorded. I know I did a bunch of them with a pull buoy at the local school’s pool.

Enter the New Year’s Resolution: be more consistent. That applies to everything from filling out my log on Fitness Journal.com to cleaning out the fridge. And with this resolution comes another (which I’ve been working on for a few months), don’t fret, worry or feel guilty about all the stuff that didn’t get done. I’m trying to focus more on the doing and less on the angst of what I’m not getting done. I know I may slip from time to time on this one, but I’ll keep plugging away at it.

I’m happy to report that 2010 is off to a great start. In the first 10 days of the year, I’ve worked out on 7 days doing 7 different activities. And this afternoon, I think I rinsed out 7 old condiment jars and put them in the recycling bin. Seven (aka 734, the cat) will be so proud. Actually, he won’t care as long as I hide 7 treats around the house to keep him occupied.

The Little Things. The Big Gestures.

2010-01-06T16:00:00.000-08:00

I’m savoring the holidays as much as possible. I know, I know, time to move on to the resolutions. I’m stalling big time. I don’t even want to take my tree down, but I will this afternoon.

Suffice it to say, the holidays were just what I needed this year. Perhaps they should add another Christmas in July just to stimulate the economy and raise morale. I don’t think it’s just me. Everyone seems to be in a better mood.

I had a great time kicking back with my loved ones, finding gifts, wrapping them and all of that good stuff. And while I had to use more restraint than I would have liked this year, it was the thought that counted – both on the giving and receiving end.

One of my favorite gifts came with this custom tag created by 734’s Dad’s brother Ken. How cool. It was attached to some tempo music, The Gorillaz Demon Days CD. My family, 734’s Dad, and my training partners came through with some awesome gifts to get me in the mood to train. More importantly, they made me feel like an athlete again.

Sharkbait gave me some cycling socks with autumn leaves to remind me of home and an assortment of gels and electrolyte drink mixes. TriDiver gave me some Pearl Izumi running gloves and a Triathlete license plate holder. My marathoner sister, Jane, gave me a nice running jacket. Ryan surprised me with a text, “Hey, don’t do anything stupid like renewing your subscription to Triathlete Magazine. Merry Christmas!” And 734’s Dad gave me everything on my wish list. Wow, how did he ever know? (That’s right, I hinted big time.) When I opened the Finis Hydro Hip training tool, he said, “Hey, I thought only maxi pads had wings!” I know he secretly gets a kick out of seeing all the idiosyncrasies that go along triathlon training.

734’s Dad’s parents gave me a very generous check to pass onto the Challenged Athletes Foundation. They knew I would have liked to do Operation Rebound again last year at Oceanside. I was quite touched by that gesture.

And one of my all-time favorite gifts came from Nikki, Sharkbait’s daughter. Since the kid recently went through quite a growth spurt, I received her old TYR split fins. I heard good things about these fins. I’m hoping they really improve my swim. I’m also hoping that osmosis takes affect because this girl can swim 100 yards in 1:15. Yeah, I wanna swim like her! Hmm, okay I just don’t want to be lapped by her. ‘Cause that wouldn’t be very nice to do to “Mealie Minnow” would it? Uh-oh, I think I just signed up for my first swim race. Rumor has it, the kid reads my blog.

Into The Mist

2009-12-31T09:16:00.000-08:00

When I arrived at the pool last night, it was about 45 degrees. If this steam and fog came off a big black caldron, you’d swear it was some sort of witch’s brew.

A cold and holiday festivities kept me out of the pool for a couple of weeks. I was excited to get back in there. Coach Mary gave me some instructions for a set, “Okay, I want you to leave on the :40.” I suspect I wasn’t quite that punctual, but I really have no idea.

I was having a Lucy/Miss Magoo moment out there. I couldn’t see the clock through the fog at the other end of the pool. I couldn’t see how much time elapsed on my lap counter. And I was fumbling with my Polar to get it to stopwatch mode because I couldn’t see the numbers on that either. Rather than draw attention to my inability to see, I just swam as fast as I could and tried not to dawdle too much in between.

I swam until I had goose bumps on my goose bumps and my left calf and right toes cramped. Mary still made me do a cool down with a pull buoy. I knew she was right, but it sure didn’t feel like I needed a cool down with the onset of hypothermia. I managed to go 2,050 yards.

After a nice hot shower, Sharkbait invited me over to her house for some ham-and-split pea soup. Is there anything better on a cold night? It reminded me of snow days in Massachusetts, when school was cancelled and I could sled for hours in the backyard.

When I arrived at her house, Sharkbait lamented, “I couldn’t see anything in that fog! I couldn’t make out the clock or see the numbers on my watch.” I felt so relieved that it wasn't just me. Now, if Barracuda could just come out with foggy night-vision goggles next.

The Dirt

2009-12-29T20:38:00.000-08:00

Aside from all the fun holiday celebrations, my absolute favorite thing this past week was getting back to the dirt. Some women like perfume. I like the smell of dirt. The sting of the crisp, cool air. And the sound of the reeds rustling in the wind. I got it all when I went for a trail run on the afternoon before Christmas Eve. It turned out to be 4.33 miles and it felt just right. I had to walk it in a couple of the steep spots, but overall I was able to run. And I’m very happy to report that it didn’t feel like I needed to borrow a lung. I was truly surprised that it felt that good. I did not expect that YET.

So the day after Christmas, I did it all over again. Both days, I went out in my new XTERRA XR 1.0 shoes. They felt super-comfortable out there. No complaints whatsoever.

On Sunday, I had my monthly trail patrol for the California State Parks. My third time back. Keith, the Governor, lead the way. I started out great and made it up a mile climb without too much trouble, although I’m sure I was quite slow. When we hit “No Dogs” I couldn’t make it up the second hill, and I didn’t clip out fast enough. I didn’t want to land on my knee and instead I kind of hyper-extended my left leg and fell backwards. Next thing I knew I was on the ground on my back with my Santa Cruz Blur stuck between my legs at an awkward angle. A little embarrassing trying to extricate myself and get back up, except no one witnessed it. Ha! Keith and Dan were already waiting at the top. Falling is just part of mountain biking. But I could feel the disparity in my quad muscle strength as I attempted the climb. It’s a little bit of a bummer, but I know it will get better.

It messed with my head for the rest of the ride though. We went on a new singletrack trail that was built with Keith’s help while I was away – Ticketron. Normally, it would’ve been no problem. Okay, maybe I would have popped off the bike in a couple of places. Instead, I walked a lot of it with my bike. The steep climb out of Deer Canyon usually called for some hike-a-biking, but I was doin’ way more hikin’ than bikin’. When we arrived at the first stretch of single track on Fenceline, it was no problem, but the second stretch, I had to clip out so quickly and so often that I gave up and walked the rest of the way. My knee ached a little – enough to give up on the idea of doing a brick workout with a little run afterwards. I got through it. I went to places I haven’t been to in a long time on my mountain bike.

And I had a lot of fun hanging out with the guys. Dan thought for sure that he would slow us down. Nope, it was me. When we stopped for some nutrition, I mentioned that I really liked the Hammer Gel Apple Cinnamon flavor. I said, “Wow, this tastes just like apple pie.” Dan replied right back, “Oh, I’d need ice cream with that…” Which pretty much gives you the flavor of the conversation that went back and forth between three immature trail patrol volunteers. When we arrived back in the parking lot, we had a visit from 734’s Dad who rode across a couple of mountain ranges to meet up with us and say “Hi!” What a guy! Next week, I get to do it all over again. Hmmm, maybe I’ll take a different route. Would you believe Slow ‘n Easy? Yup, that’s a trail. A winding mile-and-a-quarter fire road.

Those Cool, Crazy Comeback Kids

2009-12-19T22:01:00.000-08:00

I wasn’t really sure what I’d write about here after my knee surgery last winter. I knew I wouldn’t have a triathlon season. I wanted to talk to others who came back strong after being sidelined. It was an idea that was kickin’ around in my head for a few weeks when the unthinkable happened. A dear friend of mine was in a serious ski accident and suffered a spinal cord injury, and a few days later a stroke.

I felt helpless to do anything for him as he lay in the hospital. I decided to start a new series: Comeback Kids. I’d do a new story every Friday for him, his family, and his closest buddies – for as long as he was in the hospital. That was the plan. I had no idea how I’d pull it off. I put it out there and hoped for the best. And I truly met the best in the process.

Friends, friends of friends, acquaintances, and complete strangers who were more than willing to do the phone interviews, email me pictures, and review their story drafts prior to posting on the big Friday deadline. They divulged some pretty personal stuff, some pearls of wisdom, and always some kind words for my buddy.

I’d like to thank each every one of them once again. Hall of Fame Triathlete Karen Smyers who called me from a yellow cab in New York City on a business trip. Pro triathlete Joanna Zeiger who said, “Don’t quit with your rehab until you are satisfied with the results.” Yes, she spent five hours a day doing rehab for her back injury. (She inspires me to keep doing two or three-hour workouts at my rehab gym.) My physical therapy aide and former NFL player, Erroll Tucker, who still encourages me during every weight workout.

I’d venture to say that every single one of these Comeback Kids has a lot of heart, but Dwight Kroening completed Ironman Canada after receiving a heart transplant and Wayne “The Dead Guy” Wright completed 50 Marathons in 50 U.S. States this October after undergoing a quadruple bypass.

Dennis Tapp found a way to ride his bike across the country with the partial paralysis caused by five gunshots. Sterling Kwong completed Ironman Arizona after battling testicular cancer. Casey Kammel completed Ironman Coeur d'Alene in unique style after being told he’d never walk again. Andy Bailey came back from a life-threatening MRSA infection and amputation to compete in triathlons again (at the age of 70). Pitcher Kara Nilan returned to collegiate play after suffering a traumatic brain injury on the mound. My fellow rehab patient, Lydia, continues to bravely fight cancer on top of the severe back pain from her paragliding accident. And my dear coach, Beth Hibbard, became a pro triathlete after breaking her neck.

Tawnee Prazak and Kevin Quadrozzi, I have little doubt that you’ll both make it to Kona some day. My fellow trail patrol mountain biker, Jane, continues to inspire me as I hit the trails with a little trepidation these days. My friend Laurie shattered some bones in her foot doing an Irish jig, and completed an ultra-marathon less than a year later. Ken Stephenson helped me start this series off with a bang and his brother Brad helped me keep the streak alive. (Yes, there will be something nice for you under the tree, I mean in the fridge, this Christmas!)

Some thought their stories and their injuries weren’t that special.
From where I sit, they were all special. Every day someone finds this blog because they searched Google for words like “plica syndrome,” “broken collarbone,” or “tibial plateau fracture.” I’ve received thank-you notes from readers – from Colorado to France to South Africa – who have said they were inspired by your stories. You helped me immensely. You helped my friend and his loved ones. You helped keep this magical thing going for 18 weeks until my buddy was discharged from the hospital.

Last week, he started walking again with assistance. I look forward to the day when I can write his Comeback Kid story.

Until then, I plan to write a few more of these stories in the year ahead. And I thank you for making all of these stories possible. Happy holidays!

My First Master’s Swim

2009-12-15T07:20:00.000-08:00

Saturday, I woke up at 4:30 a.m. That always happens when I’m super excited about something – a flight, a long run, a race, 734’s Dad’s races. This time it was my first workout with a new Master’s Swim Club. I’ve waited all year to be well enough to take on this challenge.

And the day finally arrived. Okay, so I beat my alarm clock by an hour. This club meets on a military base. I arrived to see a bunch of recruits ready for their early workouts too.

Sometimes I laugh at the triathlon lifestyle. Our workouts seem like an endless string of double-dog-dare-ya’s. Saturday was certainly one of ‘em. I ventured out in one of our biggest storms of the year to do my own personal tri – swimming, Pilates class, and weights.

My new coach, Mary, let us store our towels in her office. Otherwise, there would’ve been no way to dry off. I neglected to tell her that my longest swim of the year so far had been 1700 yards. I just took her orders like an eager recruit.

The weather made for a surreal swim, a treat for the senses. As a glanced down into the water, the pool was a bright sky blue. The water was warm. The water quality was perfect. As I took a breath, I caught dark gray, heavy clouds. Within the first couple of hundred yards, the storm went from a trickle to a drizzle to a downpour. I loved the contrast of rhythms as the swimmers stroked and the raindrops danced on the water. I could hear the jetfighters take off in the background.

I was totally shocked that I could do this:

500-yard warm up
300-yard kicking drill
100-yard butterfly kick (‘cause I don’t know how to do the butterfly)
100-yard kicking on my back (‘cause I don’t know how to do the backstroke either)
3 sets of 2 x 150 freestyle and 1 x 150 pull w/buoy
100-yard sculling on my back

2,450 yards total

After my initial warm-up, Mary gave me a couple of suggestions on my pull and arm entry, but didn’t overwhelm me. I’m sure there will be more to come. I think I expected to be peppered with all kinds of tweaks. I expected to be humbled. I expected to need therapy after it was over. Instead it felt like therapy.

I showed up for Pilates with a minute to spare, wet hair and goggle eyes. My instructor, Toni, who has worked with me since my rehab last winter just grinned and said in her usual bubbly way, “Crazy girl! That’s awesome.”

Gift Ideas for the Triathlete

2009-12-06T18:32:00.000-08:00

If you’re wondering what on earth to get that special triathlete in your life for the holidays, here are more than a dozen ideas. And if you are a triathlete, here are some cool products you might want to add to your personal wish list! These are a few of my favorite things.

#1 Dolphin Sports MP3 Player

I received this through those wonderful folks at MindsetTriathlon.com as a finalist in their essay contest. I love this little device. I simply strap it on to the back of my goggles, pop in the ear buds and go. It’s nice to have to some tunes to help you through those long workouts. The first song I put on there? Love that Dirty Water by the Standells. You can buy it from SwimOutlet.com

#2 Spinervals DVDs

Perfect for when the weather turns lousy. (We’re expecting a lot of rain here in California this winter.) They make a wide assortment of DVDs to help your favorite tri improve his or her cycling while stuck working out on a trainer indoors. Virtual rides on Ironman courses, endurance rides, and butt-kicking anaerobic threshold rides. I’ve built up quite a library of them from Tri-Zone.com.

#3 TYR Alliance Team Parka

Baby, when it’s cold outside, there’s nothing like diving into this coat after a winter workout in the pool. I’m usually shaking like a leaf by the end of my workouts and dread the walk from the edge of the pool to my towel and then the dressing room. This jacket makes it so much easier to warm up. It has all kinds of tricked out pockets for your goggles, sunglasses, mp3 player, etc and a nice, cozy fleece lining.

#4 TYR Silicone Cap

A couple of years ago, when I was whining about those goose bumps on my goose bumps after a swim workout, my dear friend Sandy (aka Sharkbait), took note. She surprised me with a TYR silicone swim cap at our next workout. I probably wear it about nine months out of the year because it helps keep my body temperature comfortable longer. Yup, it’s the little things.

#5 SKINS Compression Wear

734’s Dad introduced me to the Skins Compression Travel & Recovery tights when I was training for the Humpy’s Marathon in Alaska. They were just what I needed after my 20-mile+ long runs. The people at SKINS were so cool, they helped me pick out just the right outfit to race in up there. I have never felt more comfortable during a marathon than when I raced in my SKINS She Long Compression Tights and Long Sleeve top. And lately, I’ve been living in my She Long Sleeve top after my hard weight workouts, swim workouts, or arduous days in front of the computer. It just feels great on my arms and shoulders.

#6 Rocket Science Elite Bag

When it came time for me to invest in a triathlon bag for all my gear on race day, dare I admit it, I agonized over the decision. Form, function, aesthetics – it had to have it all. Little Miss Picky. If I weren’t a writer, I think I could cut it as a personal organizer ‘cause I’m such a sorter. Rocket Science really did think of everything with this bag. It even has a rain cover to keep your gear dry if the elements aren’t kind on race day.

#7 Garmin

I love my Garmin Forerunner 305. It tells me exactly how far I’ve gone, how far I climbed, and how high my heart rate was in the process. This gadget girl then looks forward to plugging it into my computer and analyzing all those stats in the Garmin software when I get home too. Yup, I’m a certifiable geek. I’ve had this one a couple of years. Since then, Garmin has come out with the Forerunner 405 and the Forerunner 310XT.

#8 Camelbak Flashflo

I have a few options for hydrating myself when I’m working out. But on days when I want to go for a long run, this is my favorite. Sometimes it gets twisted around when it’s topped off in the first mile or two. Not sure if that’s a product or user flaw. After checking out their site, the Octane XCT+ and the Annadele for women look like great options too. When I’m on mountain bike trail patrol, I rely on the H.A.W.G. for an ample supply of water and room for the all the gear I need to carry out there.

#9 FitnessJournal.com

This has got to be one of the handiest and economical online training logs out there. It makes keeping track of your fitness fun and easy. Every time you log in, there’s a motivational quotation and a bird’s eye view of your goals, races, and workout stats. To add to the fun, there’s even a map of the U.S. to chart your virtual progress across the country with each additional workout. Having that historical information helps athletes see if they pushed too hard or didn’t do enough to prepare for their races.

#10 Oakley Sunglasses

Last year, I tried on 734’s Dad’s Radars on a hike one day and was amazed at the clarity those lenses offered. Whether we were out in the bright sun or in the shadows of a woodsy trail. I wanted a pair, but they would’ve looked dorky on my small face. Then Oakley came out with a women’s version, Enduring. Guess what I got for my birthday? Anything to help Miss Magoo see better! They even have little vents at the top of the lenses, so they don’t steam up from perspiration on cold mornings.

#11 Good Reads

I’d be remiss if I didn’t recommend my friend Lynn Cox’s books – Swimming to Antarctica and Grayson. Both are wonderful books that will inspire an adventurous spirit and a desire to conquer the open water. She also turned me on to another amazing book Dover Solo by Marcia Cleveland.

#12 Good Downloadable Reads

You can also find a wide selection of downloadable endurance and multi-sport focused books available at MindsetTriathlon.com, including The Meaning of Triathlon, where this blogger’s essay “Haif-Iron Minnow” appears. (How’s that for a shameless plug?)

My Personal Wish List

XTERRA Trail Shoes

I used to think my Dad had gift-giving super powers. He always knew exactly what to get my mom. I just didn’t know until about a week ago that his fantastic insight could be attributed to her fantastic hints. So this year, he’s getting me these XR 1.0 shoes for my beach and trail runs to come. How did he ever know?

Finis Hydro Hip

I saw this on a Finis DVD that TriDiver received with one of her race packets this year. It looks like it was made for me. Their web site states, “The fin placement on each hip creates resistance which forces the swimmer to rotate their hips at the top of the stroke when the greatest amount of core strength exists. Development of this timing assists in a powerful hip snap for improved stroke efficiency and distance per stroke.”

Barracuda B300 Goggles

I spotted a couple of friends at the pool sporting these and they look super comfortable. The big product design advantage? It delivers leak-proof protection without the eye-popping pressure – the sort of thing that makes you actually schedule client meetings and date nights away from your swim workouts to avoid being seen with huge bags under your eyes. Brilliant. I want ‘em in blue!

Injinji Tetratsok Mini Crew Socks

My toes are prone to blisters, especially on longer runs. These crazy looking socks promise to prevent blisters. I’m tempted to get a pair just to see. But then again, I’m not running very far these days. Maybe I should pick up a pair for my sister instead.

And if money were no object…

iBike Sport Power Meter

I know there are a lot of great power meters out there, but I think this one will be just the ticket for me. I wanna see how many watts I’m generating and improve my pedal stroke along the way. The iBike Sport was recommended to me by my triathlon coach’s bike coach – high praise from a trustworthy source.

Cervelo P2
Anyone who knows me well knows I want one of these like Ralphie wanted a Little Red Rider BB Gun in the movie “A Christmas Story.”

Whatever you decide to buy your favorite triathlete, one thing is certain – he or she will appreciate you being in their corner, offering encouragement, and having the patience to put up with his or her crazy workout schedule throughout the year. Because all of those things are the ultimate gift.

I Didn’t Plan to Race Today

2009-11-26T13:52:00.000-08:00

Nope, the plan was to go to the Turkey Trot and cheer on my sister and her family. The plan was to enjoy watching my niece, dressed up in a chicken costume as she cheered on all the runners. While Jane and her oldest son, O’Neill, did the 10k, my brother-in-law, Mike, spent half that race trying to talk me into the 5K that was about to start.

Here’s the thing about dear ol’ Mike. He is an odd mix of frugal-as-they-come and can’t-pass-up-a-deal. He went for the multiple-entry race discount, thinking Jarod, the speedy kid in the neighborhood would join them as usual. Jarod slept in. The thought of wasting a race number bothered him about as much as it bothered me to be on the sidelines.

I turned him down twice, thinking I wasn’t ready to run on the cement boardwalk. My plan was to run on the grass later. But he kept working me in that big brother way. I caved. My niece grabbed my camera bag and Red Sox coffee mug from me. I scrounged up a cup of water and a ponytail holder. It was a hot morning and I was in sweat pants and a long-sleeved shirt. I wrapped my sweatshirt around my waist and Mike pinned the “Hot to Trot” number to my shirt.

Mike never trains for the Turkey Trot. It’s always a run/walk for him. He just wanted to run until he got past his kids and around the corner of the Belmont Pool before he started walking. I had another goal in mind. Since this was only my fifth run and first race of the year, I wanted to see if I could finish it without walking a single step. My cardio is nowhere near what it used to be, so I knew that my first few months back would be humbling. Today, my competition was totally with myself to see if I could just run.

I saw my sister, niece, and younger nephew on the sidelines early in the race. I caught up to Mike as we made it past the pool. The rest of the race, I just tried to keep it a steady pace and avoid the fray as much as I could. When I made it back to the pier and the finish line was a quarter of a mile away, I picked up the pace as much as I could. I crossed the line without walking in 31:49. (A 10:15-mile pace) It was a little anti-climatic. My family figured I’d be walking more and they didn’t see me cross the line. My nephew Noah (who now towers over me) gave me a huge hug when he saw me and said, “I’m so proud of you Auntie! I didn’t think you’d finish so soon.” Oh well, I can’t complain too much since they’re cooking today. In a couple more hours, I’ll be swimming in gravy!

So that’s my big news! I actually did a race!! I hope you did something fun and get to savor time with your family too. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Give ‘Em a Medal

2009-11-17T20:05:00.000-08:00

When I was in first grade, my teacher Mrs. Barr used to put a gold star at the top of my papers when I did well. I’m sure I had an extra spring in my step, carrying my little green patent-leather school bag home with those papers to show my mother. I suppose that’s where it first started for me.

I must admit I still get that feeling whenever I earn a medal in a race. (Most were finisher’s medals.) Ah, that sense of accomplishment. Everyone likes to be validated for putting out a big effort.

So when my training partner, TriDiver, told me about a brand new organization called Medals4Mettle, I knew I wanted to spread the word and the medals around. This group, which was founded by a doctor, gives medals to children and adults who are battling life-threatening illnesses and severe disabilities. People who demonstrate true mettle every day in their own way.

Medals4Mettle currently accepts marathon, half-marathon, and triathlon medals. While I can’t quite bear to part with my own marathon medals or my half-ironman medal, I’m happy to send the rest of these along to my local chapter of Medals4Mettle. I suspect I’ll feel like I earned a gold star all over again.

Tri-Diver

2009-11-08T14:01:00.000-08:00

So my favorite training partner from the Great White North (Montreal), Kristen, did something pretty incredible. She helped her roommate, Karen, celebrate her birthday in style by going skydiving. Oh, but she did more than just fly like a bird up there. She also swam, biked, and ran for the camera and gave this blogger some fun fodder. You can check out her drop from 12,000 feet here. And for a limited time in the header above. I must admit, this looks like a blast! Think she earned a new nickname – Tri-Diver.

Back On Track

2009-11-04T18:01:00.000-08:00

Last weekend was a good one. We headed out to Mt. SAC for 734’s Dad’s second race in the Triple Crown Series. It was a beautiful, clear fall day. It was fun to watch him tear up the course and come through the chicanes by the feed zone right after the pros. He had a good time out there and won his age group. (Yup, I was pretty proud of him.) Once I was done passing out bottles, I got a couple of shots of him finishing the race.

Then it was my turn. There was a nice cushy track a few steps away from the finish line. 734's Dad grabbed the camera for the momentous occasion. I finally got a chance to run again. The past three months has been a lot of trial and error, trying to get the new orthotics dialed in. Couldn't run without 'em. Every time I tried to run with them, I got blisters under my arches. After two adjustments, the third time was the charm.

I was so happy to be out on that track that I ran a mile straight. Then I walked/jogged another mile. Didn’t want to tempt fate too much, doing too much too soon. My cardio definitely suffered the past year, but it felt so incredibly good to break a sweat.

It was a start. Not a false start. A start. I’m looking forward to getting back to that point where I can run for miles without breathing so heavy that I sound like a bad prank caller. I want that sense of peace that comes from moving meditation during solo runs. I want to gab with old friends on group runs. I want to challenge myself with speed work and trail runs. I know all of that will come in time. But just to get out on that faded red track with the painted white lines for twenty minutes was pretty exhilarating.

Getting a Jamis Out of a Jam

2009-10-16T21:17:00.000-07:00

A few years ago, my college roommate, Lee, lived in Southern California for a couple of years while she earned an advanced degree in creative writing at UC/Irvine. She could’ve stayed another year, but the woods of Western Massachusetts beckoned.

Her last day here was a frantic one. As she packed up her life and loaded it into her Honda CRV, she realized her new mountain bike wouldn’t fit in the car. She also discovered that she had no idea which box she packed her bike lock in.

So before we made our good-byes, I made a quick detour to Performance Bikes to find the cheapest bike rack I could find. I also brought my kryptonite bike lock. I remember watching her frantically assemble it in the alley before she headed out for her 3,000-mile drive home. Her new Boston Terrier, Hunter, waited patiently on a baby blue felt blanket in the front seat.

When Lee arrived home, something perplexing happened. The kryptonite bike lock was stuck. (Oh the guilt that my lock malfunctioned.) She couldn’t unlock it. She managed to get the bike off the rack by removing the front wheel. But the back wheel and the frame were inextricably fused – for YEARS.

Lee lives on the fringe of a state park. She hikes miles every day with her dogs. (She adopted a deaf Boston Terrier, Quinn, later that year.) Mountain biking eluded her. Her Jamis had sadly become what she called “a shed ornament.”

Every spring and summer, I encouraged her to free the bike. Every year, she dutifully tried. She went through an entire can of WD-40. I mentioned this story to 734’s Dad a few weeks ago and he said, “Try cooking oil.”

On the last day of my visit with her, I said, “Let’s give it another shot. Go get your bike.” I was on a mission. If I couldn’t help her stack all her wood for the winter due to the rain, I at least wanted her to free her bike. After trying many times over the years, she was skeptical. Me, not so much. I’ve seen 734’s Dad work on bikes.

I grabbed a can of Trader Joe’s canola oil spray. She grabbed the shed ornament. I was surprised to see how rusty the chain had become. Lee sprayed the lock. Waited a minute. Turned the key. Nothing. She looked up and spotted a raven flying overhead. I looked at her with eager anticipation as she explained, “See this is what always happens.” “It’s gotta work. Try the key,” I said. “All right,” she replied. She blasted the key with some more oil.

She inserted the key slowly and gave it a turn. Low and behold, the lock popped open. “I LOVE 734’s Dad!” she squealed. We laughed and jumped up and down.

The utter delight of that moment reminded me of so many other occasions we’ve shared over the years. The time we escaped arrest at Stonehenge for hopping a bobbed-wired fence trying to get a good sunrise picture. The time we spurned a Brit because he thought he could date both of us – on the same night. The time we made the two-mile trek from the grocery store with arms full of bags in a whiteout blizzard with snow up to our knees by the time we got home. And the time we realized that maybe it wasn’t such a loss that our other roommate, Ida, a budding fashion designer, hadn’t designed us a formal gown complete with a wand. Yeah, we were thrilled. Ride on Lee!

Back to My Old Neck of the Woods

2009-10-10T07:00:00.000-07:00

Last week, I took a vacation. Maybe you could tell from the lack of posts that I needed one. I went back to Massachusetts to visit my dad. I also spent some quality time with my college roommate, Lee, at her place in Western Massachusetts. The one thing all three of us have in common is a love of photography.

I have sweet memories of helping my dad develop pictures in his makeshift dark room in the basement when I was a kid. I liked the darkness, the smell of the chemicals, and watching pictures appear slowly before our eyes. The anticipation was magical. He encouraged me to enter a local photo contest once. In my junior year of college, I had a semester abroad in London. I met Lee in the airport en route to England and we became fast friends and roommates. Lee was a photojournalism major. I was a marketing major. She took pictures like a member of the AP press corps. I tagged along with her and took pictures like a Japanese tourist.

I love escaping into that visual world. So whenever I go home, I don’t pack a camera. I borrow one of my dad’s. And I go a little nuts. Here’s are a few that I took along the way. (Okay, more than a few.)

Signs of Progress

2009-09-26T19:11:00.000-07:00

True confessions, I’ve been feeling a little left out of the triathlon circle this year. I know I’m a work in progress right now. But it’s funny to think of how far my fitness has fallen in so many ways. Couple that with reading what all my tri buddies have been up to – rides up Palomar, 18-mile runs, 2-mile swims. Race after race, week after week, my eyes grow wide in front of the computer screen. I’m so impressed, yet incredibly envious. Which shows that I’m definitely coming back one way or another.

Since June, I’ve been taking Pilates 2 or 3 times a week. I was an absolute klutz at pretty much everything that first month. Okay, maybe the first two months. Then in August, things started to click a little more. I still feel like I have lots to learn, no doubt about it. However, I had two moments in two different classes this past week where I realized, ‘Hey, I guess I’m getting better.’

My cool Pilates instructor, Toni, said:

“Okay everybody, if you need to take a rest, let your leg down.” I did and she quipped, “Not YOU!”

Then on Tuesday, we had a super crowded class. Toni was standing up and moving from student to student to correct everyone’s form and alignment. Next thing I knew, she blurted, “Okay everybody, watch Amelia demonstrate.”

I wasn’t expecting that… can I just happily say I wasn’t expecting that? Come on, you gotta admit, it’s the next best thing to a race report or a PR.

A Picnic (Bench) in the Park

2009-09-25T09:35:00.000-07:00

Friday night I had my stuff ready to go for my first day back on the mountain bike on Trail Patrol in (would you believe?) a year. I was so excited I woke up at 3:00 a.m. like I had a race or needed to catch an early flight.

I must admit I was a little anxious about it since it would only be my second time back mountain biking. I had a great ride on some easy stuff with 734’s Dad on Labor Day. He coached me on how to handle the terrain everywhere we went. I hopped off the bike anywhere I didn’t feel confident of my abilities. I know that’ll improve in time.

When I arrived at El Morro, Keith got out of his truck and announced, “I hurt my knee. I can’t ride!” Oh, the irony. The guy who kept me company on the picnic bench for months while we did our volunteer duties, answering questions, etc., suddenly needed me to do the same.

Keith, “The Governor”, is another big single-speeder. For last Tuesday’s Over-the-Hump race he erred on the side of make-it-challenging by putting on a very hard gear. Then he erred on the side of not calculating right and did an extra lap.

I expected my knee to hurt a little after the ride, so I came prepared with as he put it “the Cadillac of gel packs.” We snacked and drank coffee while he iced his knee. Then another rider came down and alerted us about a woman who was hurt. Fortunately, not so seriously that she couldn’t walk out of the park. The Good Samaritan ran back to help her with her bike. When they arrived, we had a nice ice-cold gel pack for the injured woman’s arm.

She was in tears. She said she always falls. We had to cheer the girl up. Keith quickly admitted, “I broke my collar bone four times.” “So did my friend, Ken!” I added. Then I said, “Keith, tell her the story about the cactus and the bikini wax!” (Yeah, that’s how he pulled about hundred thorns out of his legs and butt last year.) We made her laugh. We hung out with her until her husband arrived. We’re hoping she just had some really bad bruises and not some ligament damage.

Then we helped some Japanese tourists in brand spanking new Yankees baseball caps. I jokingly announced, “I’m sorry I can’t help you with those hats. Talk to Keith.” They laughed. The wife said as she swatted her husband gently, “I told you we shouldn’t wear these around Angels fans.” I said, “Oh no, I’m a Red Sox fan.” Then they jokingly walked away and said, “We can’t talk to you either.” Keith gave them directions.

Next month, hopefully we’ll get to ride our bikes on the trails together again – finally. We’re both sick of warming the bench.

Just What I Wanted

2009-09-12T11:21:00.001-07:00

A couple of weekends ago, 734’s Dad won his race at Rim Nordic. The pressure was on. He had to win, so he could cinch the series. I joked that he had to win 'cause it was my birthday. He had some tough competition, but finished strong. This time he did it on gears instead of his single speed. I was so proud of the guy and happy for him.

The next day, we celebrated by playing a little hooky. We both needed a day off to just chill out. We went for an easy bike ride in the morning and then hit the beach in the afternoon. I even got in my first ocean swim of the year. Another milestone after the knee surgery. The waves were mostly flat, but there was one good one that almost took my bikini bottom off. Too funny. When I poked my head up after that one, he said, “You look like you just swam the leg of the 70.3.” Yeah, I’m sure I looked wiped out. I keep reminding myself, ‘wait ‘til next year!’ But this is his year for sure.

2009-08-26T09:04:00.000-07:00

This is Casey's pre-race interview, courtesy of KXLY News, which gives you a pretty good sense of his determination. In a couple of days, I'll post more race coverage segments. (If you're like me, you might need a kleenex.) You can read about his amazing journey in the Comeback Kid story below.

The Comeback Kid: #18 in a Series

2009-08-21T10:37:00.000-07:00

On August 20, 1994, Casey Kammel and his girlfriend, Lisa, were having a great time hanging out at a resort in Maui. Casey, a personal trainer, dove into the pool headfirst. He heard a massive crunching sound. He opened his eyes and thought, ‘Okay, swim.’ His body did not respond. Lisa saw his head was bleeding and pulled him to the surface.

She asked, “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” “I can’t move,” he replied. “What do you mean you can’t move?” she asked. “I can’t feel my body. I can’t feel my arms and legs. I can’t move,” Casey answered.

Lisa screamed for help. And with uncanny timing, she got it. A man jumped into the pool. “Don’t worry. I’m a neurosurgeon,” he calmly explained, “Yeah, he probably has a spinal cord injury. Don’t move his head. Don’t move his neck. Just keep him floating in the pool.” The good-Samaritan doctor and Lisa held Casey in the water. When the paramedics arrived, they floated a backboard underneath Casey, strapped him in, and carefully lifted him out of the water. Then he was transported by helicopter from Maui to a hospital in Oahu.

At the trauma center, the medical team sutured the three-inch gash on top of his head and performed diagnostic tests. His doctor informed him, “You have a spinal cord injury. It’s pretty bad. It’s highly unlikely that you’re ever going to walk again.” Casey told the doctor in no uncertain terms, “F@#$ off! You have no idea who you’re dealing with here. It doesn’t matter what’s wrong with me. I get back up and I go play.” The doctor calmly replied, “Well, you have a spinal cord injury and it’s pretty bad.” Casey shot back, “You know what? I don’t want to see you. Get the hell out of my face.”

The doctors waited a week for the swelling to go down before they performed surgery. Since he fractured C4 vertebrae, they fused his C3, C4, and C5 together. They also bolted a steel halo brace to his head to prevent his neck from being moved while his body healed. He remained in the hospital for three weeks. While he doesn’t remember a lot about that time because of the strong drugs, he does recall being able to faintly move his left leg, right thumb and right toe.

The doctors had him transferred to Long Beach Memorial in Long Beach, California. His HMO only allowed him to remain the hospital for 26 days. Unimpressed with the outpatient rehabilitation that he was offered through his health plan, Casey did exhaustive research to find a private therapist to work with him.

He knew how important it was to get the right kind of therapy. He had been studying physical therapy, kinesiology, and physiology at California State University in Long Beach. “Based on my own knowledge and the expertise of this physical therapist, I just started working out on my own,” Casey explained.

His progress was slow at first. “I was on the Lifecycle for just a couple of minutes,” he recalled, “I went from not even being able to lift my arm to 15-lb. dumbbells.”

This determined personal trainer continued to train his clients. How could they say “No” to doing their workouts when they saw him train so hard, despite his partial paralysis?

He went back to school in January. A month later, he was able to get rid of his cane and walk without any assistance. Casey walks with a limp – the result of the surgery, which left him with a 3/4-inch leg length discrepancy.

Casey continued to focus on his rehabilitation. Ten months after his accident, he was doing 200-lb leg presses on the weight machine and spending 45-60 minutes on the Stairmaster.

By 1996, he was fit enough to walk down the aisle and marry Lisa.

By 1999, Casey attempted his first triathlon, the Long Beach sprint triathlon. It took him an hour and seven minutes to do the half-mile swim. He did not make the cut off to complete the race.

He did not give up. He trained a lot harder and smarter. He figured out the crux of the problem with his swim stroke. The partial paralysis made it difficult to get his hand at the right angle to pull the water. He discovered that a small swim paddle strapped to his right arm helped correct the issue.

The following year, he entered the same triathlon and finished the entire race in an hour and thirty-six minutes.

In 2001, he became the first challenged athlete to complete the Los Angeles triathlon. It was his Olympic-distance event and he had to contend with 8-foot waves breaking on the shore at the start. He also completed his first half-Ironman that year at the Challenged Athletes Foundation Triathlon Challenge in La Jolla. He finished the event in eight hours.“I was pretty excited about that one,” he explained, “The run was hard for me because I was a baseball and football player. It wasn’t just the disability. I had never done long-distance running before.”

So to work on his running weakness in 2002, he completed the Long Beach Marathon in 4:27:49. Casey also tackled a few more triathlons – and then, for a few years, he put all of his energy into expanding his business and his family. He and Lisa had two daughters

A year ago, he came to an important decision. “If I don’t sign up for an Ironman, I’ll probably never do one because I’ll let everything else get in the way of it,” he recalled. He gave himself one of his own personal trainer pep talks, “It’s now or never. I’m just going to find a race and do one.”

He entered Ironman C’oeur d’Alene in Idaho, a race that would include a 2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike, and 26.2-mile run on June 21, 2009.

Though he trained a year for the event, Casey really cranked up the mileage in January. His friend, Scott Spence, helped him put together a meticulous training plan. Casey’s longest training ride on the bike was 122 miles. His longest brick was a 112-miles on the bike followed by a 90-minute run. He completed a 2.4-mile swim open-water swim. He had done everything right to prepare for this event.

On the morning of the race, there was a mass start of 2,600 people in the water at once. Casey was the only physically challenged athlete in the water that day. He was given an orange cap to wear which was hard to discern from all the red caps worn by the able-bodied men on in the water.

Casey had been in crowded race starts before. He wasn’t prepared for the difference in buoyancy between salt water and fresh water. He wasn’t expecting the violent chop from the 15-20 mph winds that hit him on his weak side. He completed the first lap in 1:01. He had plenty of time to make the cut-off for the swim in 2:20.

“But I had made up my mind that I wasn’t going back out there for a second lap. I’m not a strong swimmer because of my situation,” he explained, “I don’t care how many lifeguards are out there. If they don’t see me, they don’t see me. I’m married. I have two kids. I’m not going to risk drowning.”

Casey walked up the shoot of the race corral, where was greeted by an official. The woman said, “You know you only did one lap.” He calmly replied, “Yes, I know.” “You’re disqualified,” she stated.

Maybe so, but Casey wasn’t finished. At first, he was so devastated by what happened that he collapsed on the ground. He grabbed his gear and his bike out of the transition area. And then he improvised and created his own Ironman course away from the other competitors, so he wouldn’t interfere with the race in any way.

He rode 112 miles on the bike.

He went back to the house he rented and changed into his sneakers.

As he set out on the run, his little girls cheered him on and waved big yellow signs that read, “Go Daddy!” and “Daddy is an Ironman!”

He set out to run 26.2 miles with his wife, Lisa, following in the car behind him. She was a moving aid station, pulling alongside him to give him water, pretzels, gels and circus animal cookies when he needed nourishment. “They don’t have circus animal cookies at the water stations on the course,” she shouted, “You must be special!”

His friends and clients kept calling and texting throughout the night to tell him he was already an Ironman for doing what he did.

At 10:35 p.m. he made it unofficially official by completing a full marathon. When he arrived home, the kids were asleep and he felt like he might fall over from exhaustion. He knew if the conditions had been different, he would have completed the race that day.

The next day, a fellow competitor Hugo Ferlito heard about Casey’s struggle on the swim and determination to complete the rest of the race. In front of Casey’s wife and two daughters, Hugo gave him his finisher’s medal and said, “I was so impressed with what you did buddy that I want you to have my medallion.”

Hugo told news reporters, “The second I heard what Casey had done, I knew what I wanted to do because in my eyes, he is the true definition of an Ironman. I thought he typified the greatest part of the sport. ”

Next year, Casey will return to Coeur d’Alene to compete in the Ironman again. Cause that’s what he does – he gets up, and he plays.

NOTE: If you have a good comeback story, please contact me at sixtwothreetries@gmail.com. I’d like to interview you. I hope this will be one of many Comeback Kid stories. Here’s why.

Garage Sale for a Friend

2009-08-20T17:13:00.000-07:00

I’ve been writing these Comeback Kid stories to honor a special friend. He broke his neck skiing in March. He just got out of the hospital a couple of weeks ago. He’s always been a strong, athletic guy. It wasn’t unusual to find him conquering events such as the Catalina Marathon, Pier-to-Pier Swim, Warrior’s Society Vision Quest and Counting Coup, and the Camp Pendleton Mud Run Obstacle Course. We talked about doing XTERRA together. (He also coached every soccer team his kids played on.) His biggest challenge is ahead of him – getting out of his wheelchair. We are hopeful that he will, but he’s going to need months of rehab and all the help he can get from his friends and the kindness of strangers.

So I’m throwing a big garage sale on September 5th to help keep his rehab going as long as possible. My training buddy, Sandy (aka Shark lady), has graciously offered to host this affair at her house. If you live in the SoCal area and have some stuff that you don’t want anymore or just can’t wait to regift, by all means let me know. I’d be happy to meet you and take it off your hands. If you don’t live in the SoCal area, but would like to help, please email me offline and I’ll let you know how you can with a tax-deductible donation. You can contact me at sixtwothreetries@gmail.com. Tomorrow I’ll have a very special Comeback Kid story on tap – #18 is without a doubt, one of the most inspiring Ironman stories you’ll ever read. Promise.

Performance

2009-08-14T13:34:00.001-07:00

This was too good not to share. Can't wait to show it to my fixie nephew :-)

A Tarantula Sighting

2009-08-13T17:32:00.000-07:00

I saw a tarantula tap dance across the pavement yesterday on my bike ride. As his legs scurried away from me, I heard a familiar sound that reminded me of the castanets I had in kindergarten. He was big and furry. I was bigger and girlie. I resisted the urge to scream, but pedaled away in a fury.

Now, I know Fe-Lady would have totally loved seeing him up close. She probably would’ve called him “handsome” and gushed. 734’s Dad and his brother acted like I just won the lottery and thought it was so cool that I caught a glimpse of him. I guess? I half expected to have nightmares last night.

As I finished my ride, I did have a flashback to college. My friend Ed had a pet tarantula in the dorm. One Saturday night, it got out of its cage and roamed around. The next morning, one of the girls in the dorm was astonished at how realistic her dream seemed that night of a tarantula that walked across her chest. She assumed she had way too much to drink. Ed didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth.

When I overheard him laughing and telling this story in the line for the cafeteria, I thought ‘I better avoid this guy.’ We didn’t become great friends until two years later. Must’ve been after he got rid of his spider.

What Can I Enter?

2009-08-11T18:47:00.000-07:00

Well, it’s pretty clear that a triathlon isn’t in my short-term future. But like most athletes, I need a goal to fuel the fire. I found one. The 100 Push-ups Challenge.

While I find doing a push-up with an exercise ball to be pretty palatable. I totally choked trying to do a full push-up. Or a full push-up and a half, before I collapsed on my yoga mat in giggles. I have arms like Olive Oil – and it shows.

So after doing this little test, I’ve opted for the alternate “Knee” push-ups. I’m going to follow the 100 Push-ups Challenge 3-day a week training program and see if I can do 100 of them non-stop in six weeks. Will keep you posted. I’m hoping that eventually I can make the transition to full push-ups when I’m done. If you care to join me as a virtual training partner, check out this site and try it at home.

Blogging about it is the next best thing to hitting “submit” on a race form. I’ll just be submitting to a different kind of punishment.

I Got The Bird

2009-08-07T10:24:00.001-07:00

Usually that’s not such a good thing. But last weekend, it was a very good thing. I finally received my Quail pin for 100 hours of service for the California State Parks. I’ve been doing monthly mountain bike trail patrol volunteer work for the past five or six years. Sometimes I missed a couple of months – for the most part, I always showed with my college roommate, Leslie, and then after she moved back East again, Keith, aka “The Governor” (I call him that ‘cause he seems to know everyone out there like he’s run for office or something.)

Okay, so at last year’s Volunteer Fiesta, I thought for sure I would get that pin. (I was sort thinkin’ it should’ve come the year before.) I was a little pouty that night. My friends were surprised too. I joked with a sullen face, “I didn’t get the bird!” – and they handed me another sympathy beer.

So when Ranger Winter finally called my name this year, I got a good cheer from the crowd. It was like winning an Oscar and making the podium all at once. Not quite, but it was good.

As mountain bike trail patrol volunteers, we bring extra water for the hikers, offer directions and bike mechanical support, and answer questions. On rainy days, we turn away the P.O.’d patrons at the gate. The State put us through extensive training. Unofficially, we can even offer some medical assistance. Officially, we are not supposed to harass the park visitors. Imagine my quandary, when I met 734’s Dad on the trails that fateful day a couple of years ago in my oh-so-stylish Trail Assistance uniform? For the record, he harassed me – and continues to do so every chance he gets.

My First Run After Surgery

2009-08-03T13:35:00.000-07:00

It had been 9 months and 24 days since my last run. My surgeon gave me the clear to start running for ten minutes on July 20th. I erred on the side of caution because I have new orthotics that I’m breaking in. After watching the Aflac Women’s Triathlon on TV yesterday morning, I couldn’t stand waiting much longer.

First, I went for a ride on my mountain bike on the pavement. I did my favorite 11.25-mile loop. I spun my legs easy and enjoyed the scenery. Then, I took a long T1, changed my shoes, pet the cat, and grabbed 734’s Dad. We walked down to a dirt path that’s fairly flat near his place. He gave me one of his famous pep talks. “Run light on your feet like an Indian Squaw!” he said. I definitely had a little trepidation. If it hurt to run what would that mean for my future aspirations?

After a few steps, I felt instantly relieved. After several more, I felt winded. I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to push my luck. I ran back toward 734’s Dad and he looked pretty happy, too. According to the Garmin, I ran a little over three quarters of a mile. Then we walked back. I felt a slight tinge of pain going up the stairs, so I’m still going to be conservative with it for a while. Overall, it felt great. When we got home, this is the recovery drink he mixed for us – margaritas made with fresh limes and no artificial stuff. If I had any pain that would've killed it for sure!

The Comeback Kid: #17 in a Series

2009-07-27T21:12:00.000-07:00

Sterling Kwong didn’t have much to celebrate the day after Cinco de Mayo in 2002. On May 5th, he found himself in the waiting room of his brand new primary care physician. Sterling noticed a suspicious lump in his left testicle. Dr. Rosario's next words set off a tumultuous change of events that would forever change him. Dr. Rosario shook his head and stated matter-of-factly, "I think it might be a mass." The doctor ordered an ultrasound – stat.

Four days later, he had an urgent consultation with an urologist. Dr. Marinelli said, “I’m 99% sure it’s cancer. Whether it’s cancer or not, it has to come out.” “It was the size of a wasabi pee,” Sterling explained, “I was lucky. Often, testicular cancer (TC) patients aren’t even aware of a lump to warrant a treatment. It came on suddenly.”

He was 31-years old at the time. He added, “I almost considered not renewing my health insurance, thinking I was young and healthy. I’m glad I did or I would’ve been horribly in debt. “

Since he had recently finished his equivalency degree in music therapy, his career hadn’t taken off yet. He still needed to finish an internship before he could become a Board Certified Music Therapist. He lived at home with his parents who had immigrated from China in the sixties.

He realized there was no way he could keep the job he had with his illness. But the one thing he had to do was keep his cancer a secret from his dad. His mother, who was so protective of both her husband and son, thought it was for the best. You see his dad’s health was fragile. He had been hospitalized the year before for three weeks with congestive heart failure and congestive lung failure. Sterling honored her wishes.

The weekend before his surgery in early June, ten of his friends took him on a fishing trip to June Lake in Mammoth. His buddy, Lou Garzon, gave him Lance Armstrong’s book It’s Not About the Bike. “It was a good time to focus on what was important to me in my life,” he recalled, “My first priority was to fight it. “

The following Monday, he had his left testicle removed. “They took it out from up above to avoid spreading the cancer. I had a five-inch incision in my groin. It looks like a c-section scar. ” Sterling explained. The surgery was an outpatient procedure. He was home – trying to hide his excruciating pain – by 1:00 p.m.

It was the first major step to becoming cancer-free. While he recuperated from the operation, he continued to do research on his disease, which afflicts 7,000 men between the ages of 18 and 35 each year. Despite the rarity of this disease, it is still the most common form of cancer that is diagnosed in young men of those ages.

He scheduled appointments with oncology specialists. He saw Dr. Derek Raghavan at USC Norris Cancer Center, and Dr. Richard Lloyd at St. Jude Medical Center. These two men agreed to work in concert to become part of Sterling's recovery. They discovered that it was mostly embryonal carcinoma. Further testing determined the protocol of how to best treat his disease.

His doctors agreed that his treatment would utilize platinum-based chemotherapy agents. Sterling was quite familiar with this treatment because he read all the gory details of Lance Armstrong's treatment in his book. In fact, it was Lance's doctor, Dr. Larry Einhorn, who pioneered the use of platinum to treat testicular cancer. In the 80's before platinum chemotherapy was utilized in testicular cancer patients, TC carried a most certain death sentence. Amazingly now because of platinum, TC is now one of the most treatable forms of cancer.

Sterling opted to receive his treatment at St. Jude. His doctor ordered multiple CT scans, chest x-rays, and blood tests. There were a couple of spots on his lungs that metastasized. By the time he started his first round of chemo, he had four nodes on his lungs and two behind his kidneys. He didn’t feel well. The cancer set his endocrine system off like a raging fire. The cancer affected everything – from his hormones to his energy levels.

The thought of chemotherapy frightened him. Chemotherapy is sometimes described as using a shotgun to shoot at a pinhole. It is a horribly cruel form of treatment. Dr. Raghavan warned him of the potential for hearing loss, secondary leukemia, fibrosis of the lungs, and hair loss. He also said, “There’s a 100% chance you’ll die without chemotherapy.”

To prepare for the treatment and help keep his mom’s secret, he had his mom buzz off his mane of hair with the home clippers. “I told my dad it was my summer cut,” he admitted with a chuckle.

The next hurdle was explaining why he would be gone for a week in the hospital to receive his first treatment. “My mom told him I was on a business trip,” he said. “But you didn’t have a job!” this interviewer interjected. “I know. It was crazy!” he replied with a laugh.

He had chemotherapy for three cycles that involved a full week of inpatient hospitalization while the platinum was administered. This was followed by two weekly outpatient treatments. "It was a total of nine weeks, which felt like an eternity." They gave him Bleomycin, a plant-derived alkaloid as a "mop up" chemotherapy drug. “Bleomycin made me really sick. I broke out in high fevers, shaking, night sweats, and nausea,” he said. "Even my eyelids were achy."

Four weeks into his chemotherapy treatment, he tried to recoup his strength. So did his dad. They were sitting around the kitchen table, sipping Brands Chicken Essence, a Chinese concentrated chicken extract broth with reported health benefits. Sterling explained, "The broth comes out of tiny jars. We were like a couple of cowboys hunched over at a bar,” he recalled fondly, “My dad turned to me and said, ‘Sterling, I’m really worried about you. Why are you spending so much time at home? You’re not working. And you’re not doing anything with your life right now.’”

He noticed that Sterling was sleeping the day away. His mom anxiously paced in and out of the kitchen as she overheard this conversation. “Right then, I just had to tell my dad, ‘I have cancer. I’m in a struggle for my health and my life right now. This is why I’m not working Dad.’ I really wanted to tell my dad as soon as I found out. I was afraid of his reaction, because I had to break my word with my mom. However, he was quiet – even a bit stoic. He was really careful with his words. I knew he understood me completely. He mentioned, ‘Oh, I know Scott Hamilton and Lance Armstrong are also testicular cancer survivors.’ From that moment on, my relationship with my father had totally changed. I felt his compassion just with the look in his eyes. We didn’t have to acknowledge it verbally.”

It was not only a relief to Sterling that the truth was revealed, but to his friends and cousins who checked in on him and regularly emailed to ask, “Have you told your dad yet?”

Another huge source of encouragement was The Wellness Community (TWC), a support group for young adults with cancer. “They became my salvation to face life again,” he acknowledged. With their love and support through the weekly meetings he began to piece together the meaning of cancer in his life.

A month after his last chemo treatment, Sterling found an internship at a psychiatric hospital under the supervision of one of his teachers, Lisa Jackert. She modified his work schedule to allow him to continue his recuperation. Sterling was still soft-spoken, bald and tired all the time.

By the following spring in 2003, six months after his chemo ended, Sterling started to feel like his old self again. He secretly eyed a flier posted at The Wellness Community that fall. It was an invitation to run in the Vancouver Marathon, if he could do some fundraising on behalf of The Wellness Community. He wanted to give back to The Wellness Community that had done so much for him. He decided to give it a go. Though a knee injury prevented him from running the full marathon in 2004, he finished his first half marathon. He was a bit disappointed in his time, but he knew immediately that he wanted to come back and run the full marathon in Vancouver.

His dad passed away two months later on Father’s Day. He also saw another close friend in his support group pass away Jolie Ross – the wife of his friend Derek Ross. In the throes of grief, Derek challenged Sterling to race a triathlon.

In a hurried rush, just a few weeks before his first triathlon he asked his friend Lou, who knew a lot about bikes, to help him choose a bike. So he took Sterling down to Supergo in Fountain Valley to pick one out. "Lou has excellent taste and is first-class kinda guy. He picked out this bike and I looked at the price and I say ‘Really? Is this how much I really want to spend on a bike?’ It was sticker shock. I followed his advice and bought the bike, a Specialized Roubaix,” he explained with a laugh, “Then I immediately started falling all over the place. I still have scars on the back of my legs from the number of times I fell.“

His first triathlon was the 2004 Lake Arrowhead Sprint Triathlon at 5000-foot elevation. “When the volunteer went to mark my legs, she gasped at my scars. I told her ‘You can write my number really high on my leg,’” he recalled.

After a few strokes of the swim, he panicked and flipped over to backstroke the race. “Safety crews followed me and asked ‘Are you okay?’ ‘Yeah, I’m fine!’ I’m swimming all crooked,” he admitted. His buddy Derek instructed him, “Don’t let anyone on a mountain bike pass you!” Well, the race didn’t go as planned. A couple snuck past him. He had to walk his bike up a hill. On the run, he was out of breath. “It was so humiliating, but I was hooked,” he explained, “I had to learn how to get better at this sport!”

Sterling continued to find strength and inspiration from The Wellness Community. He still attended the weekly Young Adults support group. He continued receiving the A-OK from Dr. Lloyd. He really improved as a runner and began to love everything about being an endurance athlete. Things were looking up for him for a change. So he decided to step up to the challenge and return to Vancouver for the full marathon in 2005. Once again, he raced on behalf of The Wellness Community. He dedicated the race to the memory of his dad and had his teammate write in bold letters on his arm "Daddy I miss you." To commemorate this moment, he dyed his hair bright fire engine red for the event. He had his hair and his health again. Why not be bold and flash it? His friends cheered for him from the sidelines and called him “A Rock Star!”

While training Vancouver Marathon, he worked out with some friends from Runners High, some were accomplished Ironman athletes. “I’d hear about all their crazy workouts like 90-mile training rides and decided I wanted to do an Ironman too. “

There was a shift in Sterling’s thinking. Instead of worrying about the return of cancer, he was thinking forward to his next race. In 2006, he completed the Wildflower Olympic and Big Kahuna Half-Ironman triathlons. He hit the submit button for Ironman Arizona in 2007, but suffered a broken collarbone on a training ride. A dog ran across his path while he was riding the bike course in Tempe and he had no place to avoid tthe dog.

He continued working toward his goal, while caring for his mom who had just been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease, and continuing his full-time music therapist job.

In November 2008, he finally got his chance to compete in Ironman Arizona. The morning of the race another athlete offered him a pearl of wisdom, "This is the only piece of advice that I am going to tell you. This day is long enough that your race can actually improve over time." Sterling replied with an incredulous, "Really?!" Little did he know how prophetic that statement would be.

Almost immediately the wheels came off the wagon for Sterling. Something was wrong on the swim. His stomach was bloated and his legs cramped up. However, he still managed to finish the 2.4-mile swim in an hour and thirty-eight minutes.

On the bike, he it got even worse. He had trouble getting the pedals to turn over. Immediately he was nauseous and by mile 10 had to pull over and wretch for the first time. “Oh man, I can’t let my day end like this…I have to finish,” he recalled. The nausea and bloated feeling that he felt now felt reminded him of how sick he was with his chemotherapy treatments. None of the nutrition or hydration was staying down in stomach for very long.

Suffice it to say, the volunteers he met on the first and second loop of that ride were concerned. The most rotund guys in the whole race passed Sterling. Everyone left him in the dust. He really was tempted to abandon the race on the bike during the second loop. He was feeling woozy and unsure of himself . But he was determined to give it his best shot. The only way he wanted to go out was if a course marshal told him to stop.

His dear friend, Jill Fernandez, who was there to cheer him on with her nieces and nephew asked in a pleading sort of way, “Okay, Sterling, maybe on this third loop you could do a little better? Just go a little faster?” All of sudden, his stomach cleared up by the third loop. He made the turnaround of the third bike loop with nary a competitor in sight. It was a long road to face all alone.

He was able to honor Jill's request and pick up the pace on the third loop. He finished the 112-mile bike portion of the race with 10 minutes to spare before the cutoff. He felt much better by the run. This was his strength. He was carrying his cell phone for safety reasons. Around mile 21 of the marathon, he got a call from his concerned mother, “Sterling, I’m worried about you. How come I haven’t heard from you yet?” She’s a little hard of hearing. Sterling had to yell, “I’ve got five more miles!” How many?” she asked. “Mom, five more miles!” he said. “What?” she asked again. “Five more miles. I’ll call you when I’m done.” he practically screamed.

On those last few miles, a light bulb went off that he was almost there. He began to forget all the agony that it took to get him here thus far. "Wow that dude that I met this morning was so right!!" he thought to himself. He managed to sprain his right ankle and his left and right Achilles tendons began aching pretty badly during the marathon. His new mantra became, "Pain is temporary, glory is forever."

As Sterling neared the finish line, Jill handed him a Team Duke flag – the current cancer charity that Sterling represents. As he approached the finish chute, he heard the booming voice of Mike Riley make a legendary call, “Looks like we have a Team Duke supporter here. It is Sterling Kwong from Buena Park, California. You are an Ironman!”

While Sterling was standing punch drunk from the experience with a volunteer finisher catcher on either side of him, Jill asked, “How are you doing?” Sterling still can’t quite recall his reply. “I either said ‘That was dumb.’ Or ‘I feel numb,’” he said with a laugh. He finished the race in 16:22 – a good two hours over his expected time. Fifty days from now, he’ll have another chance to best that time when he competes in Ironman Wisconsin in September.

NOTE: If you have a good comeback story, please contact me at sixtwothreetries@gmail.com. I’d like to interview you. I hope this will be one of many Comeback Kid stories. Here’s why.

Stay Tuned

2009-07-25T15:06:00.001-07:00

This week's Comeback Kid story is in the works. We'll have it up sometime Monday for sure. Like a fine wine, this one is taking a little more time. This guy's tale is pretty epoch and surprisingly funny too. I'm proud to know him and see how far he's come in the past few years.

A Tad Obsessed with The Tour

2009-07-23T17:26:00.000-07:00

Anyone who knows me well knows how much I love the Tour de France. I mean in a real over-the-top kind of way. Left to my own devices and no pressing deadlines, I could watch it three or four times a day. With pressing deadlines, I’ll watch pieces of it three times a day – breakfast, lunch, and bedtime. Yeah, it’s that bad.

But wait it gets better. Last week at the concert in the park (a summer ritual for our family), my sister announced to her friend, “She likes to watch those guys butts when they cycle up the Alps.” Thanks Jane, TMI!

I met my oldest nephew O’Neill’s new girlfriend that night, too. She enthusiastically stated, “I watch the Tour with my brother and my dad!” I shook her hand and told him, “I approve O’Neill. You found a good one!”

My youngest nephew, Noah, watched the action with me again. We agreed that he’d visit it me during the Tour when I’m 80. He said he’d bring me red wine and gourmet treats. Perfect! He’s a fixie and a foodie. I’m grooming him to take care of me in my old age!

I actually entered the Versus Fantasy League. I even fill in the Cadillac Word of the Day online. (Hey, I’ll do anything for a Cervelo.)

Last night, I asked 734’s Dad what time he had to get up for work. I was so fixated on when I could actually start watching the Tour without disturbing him (though he loves it, too). He answered with a smart response, “I’m either getting up at 6:23 or 7:34.” “Which?” I asked. He repeated it matter-of-factly two more times…before I realized he was jerking my chain … make that chain ring.

Getting Strong Now

2009-07-20T19:49:00.000-07:00

Ah, can’t you just here the Rocky theme song? On the six-month anniversary of my knee surgery, my trainer at the rehab gym gave me a new Fitness Assessment Test. Six weeks ago, Colleen designed a pretty extensive weight-training and balance routine for me. I’ve been doing it two or three times a week. I knew things were getting easier for me. I had no idea what to expect from the test. (I guess I kind of blocked the first one out of my mind.)

Here’s what she had me do. First up, the wall sit test. I remember doing these as a kid with my brother to prepare for ski season. Near the end of the test, my legs were shaking until I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s an endurance test. How long can you last? The old me was 1:22. The new me was 3:44.

Next, she had me do the push-up test using an exercise ball. My nose had to touch the floor. Yeah, she was watching to keep me honest. How many can you do in two minutes? The old me was 46. The new me was 59. The little slave driver didn’t give me much time to catch my breath before she gave me crunches ;-)

This crunch isn’t the hardest. I had to curl enough to bring my fingers forward. It’s a standard fitness test. How many can you fire off in a minute? The old me was 53. The new me (after about 15 pilates classes) was 74.

Then she tested my flexibility with a sit-and-reach test. Totally forgot about this one. The old me reached 28” with my fingertips. The new me reached 29.5".

The whole thing made me winded, sweaty, and giddy. A PR. I’ll take it.

The Comeback Kid: #16 in a Series

2009-07-17T12:30:00.000-07:00

In his junior year of high school, Kevin Quadrozzi was the fastest cross-country runner in Berkshire County, Massachusetts. There were quite a few colleges and universities interested in him. He was in talks with the coach at the University of Massachusetts. His future was bright.

This self-described injury-prone athlete developed a strange pain in his leg. He had a string of stress fractures in the past, but this felt different. After a few treatments from a physical therapist, he realized the pain wasn’t going away.

His sports orthopedist ordered an MRI of his leg and noticed a spot that concerned him. Three days later, Kevin had a bone scan. “They told me it was a tumor. When they showed me where it was on my tibia, it looked like an over-sized jelly bean,” he explained, “That same day, my parents told my sisters and I that they were getting a divorce. We didn’t see it coming. It was a tough time for me. I was scared.”

After undergoing a second bone scan, it became evident that the tumor was benign. “It showed the tumor was disintegrating, which lead to another problem because it formed a hole. The outside of my tibia was very thin like the crust of an eggshell,” he recalled.

His doctors were nervous and thought he might need surgery right away. Kevin was nervous that he might miss his upcoming cross-country races and blow his chances at being recruited by colleges.

The doctors understood and gave him two options. He could postpone his surgery until after his cross-country season as long as he cut his weekly mileage in half. They warned him that he could break his leg at any time. Or he could have the surgery that summer and miss his cross-country season.

Like any red-blooded runner, he opted to avoid the surgery. He reduced his running mileage from 60 to 30 miles a week. He biked and even competed in some road races. And he swam. He did whatever he could to maintain his fitness and baby his leg.

His patience paid off. “I ended up being second in the county going into the championship meets,” he explained, “Then, I ran a race with two of my rivals and I had the worst finish of my high school career. I placed seventh and passed right out. I ended up going to the emergency room and they diagnosed me with mono. The same week one of my best friends died suddenly.”

Since he wouldn’t be able to compete in those final championship events, he thought it would be the perfect time to get that surgery he needed. His doctors did not concur. He couldn’t have the surgery until his blood work returned to normal. He had blood tests twice a week for five weeks before he was cleared to have the operation.

Since Kevin’s condition was so rare, his doctor had never performed this kind of surgery before. He was given the option of filling the hole with artificial bone or his own bone, which would heal faster, but would be more painful. Kevin wanted the quicker recovery.

The next question was where would they harvest the bone on Kevin’s body that was big enough to fill the hole? He went under anesthesia not knowing whether it would be from his hip or his knee. The surgery went smoothly. “When I woke up, I saw the marks on my hip where they planned to cut, but they opted to chisel off a piece on the outside of my knee. I was glad because those marks looked big,” he said. Kevin spent the next three days in the hospital.

Then he spent the next two months on crutches with a DIY (do-it-yourself) rehab program that was more fitting for an Ironman in training. “I probably did a little more than I should have,” he recalled with a laugh, “I biked 400-500 miles a week on the trainer. That was about all I could do. I’d pop a movie in after school and bike for a couple of hours.”

Kevin was definitely ready for his spring track season. He finished high school with a few PRs under his belt, including a 4:32 mile. He went to the University of Massachusetts, after all. “I didn’t even tell my coach about the tumor until my sophomore year,” he admitted. He had a couple of nagging injuries in college, but managed to bring his mile time down to 4:14 and his 5K time down to 15:00. He placed 32nd at the U.S. Men’s 5K Championship, the national road championship, in his senior year.

Now that he has graduated, he plans to get his MBA in Sports Management from Florida Atlantic University. He’s eligible for the school’s cross-country team and club track team. “Once I’m done competing in the mile, I want to start doing marathons. My goal is to do Ironman races and qualify for Kona some day. That’s what I’d really like to do.” He’s come this far. It’s not that hard to picture him running through the lava fields of Hawaii next.

NOTE: If you have a good comeback story, please contact me at sixtwothreetries@gmail.com. I’d like to interview you. I hope this will be one of many Comeback Kid stories. Here’s why.

Another Lucy Moment

2009-07-14T10:18:00.001-07:00

I worked out in my rehab gym yesterday. It’s a small gym with lots of equipment for me to use. I noticed a cute older lady being put through her paces by our trainer, Colleen. I was being quiet and kind of felt like I was eavesdropping on her session as I did my step-ups, rocker-board, mat, and pilates exercises.

Then it was time for me to do squats against the wall with an exercise ball to support my back. And it was time for the little redhead to do the same thing. When she squatted down. I squatted up. We were like pistons going up and down. At the end of the exercise, we burst out laughing. These are the moments I love about working out with people. They can be so unexpected. They ignite a happy energy. It gave us such a chuckle that we did another set the same way. We both agreed it reminded us of this clip.

The Comeback Kid: #15 in a Series

2009-07-09T20:21:00.000-07:00

Ask 60-year old Wayne Wright how many marathons he’s done in his life and he answers, “I ran 36 marathons before I died, and 39 marathons after I died.” The retired Army major thrives on adrenaline. He was an Army Ranger, a Green Beret, a Commander of a battalion of drill sergeants, and a competitive marksman. He was also trained as an EMT. So when he had symptoms of angina during the first mile of a 10K road race in February 2007, he knew something was wrong.

“I had a pain in my heart. A heart attack has a very crushing feeling like ‘get that truck off my chest,’” he explained, “I didn’t have that – it was just like somebody stuck a knife in my heart.” After he warmed up, the heart got more blood or more endorphins kicked in, and the pain went away. Wayne finished the race. “I had a discomfort that felt like a sunburn, but inside my chest,” he recalled, “A sunburn is not debilitating. It’s just annoying.”

On Monday, he went to see his physician, who told him, “Of course, it can’t be your heart. You’re a marathoner.” Wayne thought he was in the clear. The next weekend, he went to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina and ran a 3:49 marathon – the second fastest marathon in his life. Two weeks later, he ran a 3:56 marathon in Napa Valley, California. He flew directly from there to Reno to go skiing at Lake Tahoe for a week.

After he arrived home, he competed in a 5K and won his age group. “I still had this nagging sunburn-like chest pain. Aspirin helped,” he explained, “On Tuesday, I was supposed to fly to Indiana. I decided to cancel my flight and went to the emergency room instead.”

A routine enzyme test ruled out myocardial infarction. The ER doctor wanted to send him home. Fortunately, the cardiologist on call knew Wayne personally, and suggested they do one more test as a precaution. When they prepped him for the catheterization, they told him it would only take 15 minutes and he could watch it on a video monitor. “My wife knew something was wrong when it took an hour and a half,” he said, “I knew something was wrong when I woke up from the procedure.”

The doctors discovered that his left anterior descending artery, commonly referred to as, “the widow maker” which serves the entire left ventricle was 80% blocked. Three other arteries also showed significant obstructions. Two days later, they performed a quadruple bypass on Wayne.

The surgical team at Holmes Regional Medical Center pioneered using arteries instead of veins for bypasses. Their theory is that arteries have thicker muscle walls and are accustomed to contracting more with each beat than a vein. They also believe arteries will last longer, but they haven’t been doing it long enough to know for sure.

For Wayne’s surgery, they replaced those blocked arteries with an artery out of his right forearm, a vein out of his left leg, and his mammary artery. “So I can never breastfeed,” Wayne quipped.

Maybe not, but the man sure can run. And he wasn’t about to let open-heart surgery stop him. He’s not one to sugarcoat things either. It was rough at first. “When I woke up from surgery I said, ‘I must’ve died during surgery because this is hell.’” The surgery took four hours. They stopped his heart for two hours. Which is why he’s known as “The Dead Guy.”

He started walking laps around the large hospital’s hallways. Nine days after his surgery, Wayne walked a 5K in downtown Melbourne, Florida. “Those folks made a big deal out of it and put my picture in the newspaper,” he said, “I didn’t have the heart to tell them I walked six miles the day before.”

Four weeks after his surgery, his doctor said, “Well I guess you can start running a little.” Wayne pointed out to the doctor, “That’s like telling an alcoholic ‘you can start drinking a little.’ So let's put some parameters on it.” You see Wayne is a member of the 50 States Marathon Club and Marathon Maniacs. He completes more marathons in a year than many avid runners run in a lifetime.

His doctor instructed him to run a mile and then walk for a few minutes to see how he felt. He was afraid the endorphins might mask the pain. “I ran for a minute and it kicked my butt. Then I walked five. The next day I was able to walk a minute and 15 seconds and walk 4:45. The day after that it was 1:30,” he recalled.

Two weeks after the check-up and six weeks after surgery, Wayne “The Dead Guy” entered the Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati, Ohio. He alternated between running four minutes and walking three minutes until he crossed the finish line in 4:37. “That was the only marathon I ever started where there was a serious concern if could I finish,” he admitted, “I had no idea what was going to happen. I thought it might take me 6 hours or more. I felt great. Fantastic! I’ve got a rebuilt carburetor baby, I’m good to go!” People in his age group joked, “Uh-oh, we know what you could do when your heart was bad. We’ve got to look out now!’

Despite good results at his next few marathons, Wayne was concerned that his Garmin 305 showed his heart rate was a few beats higher than normal – whether he was racing or just reading the newspaper. His cardiologist ordered a nuclear stress test, which showed there was nothing wrong with the plumbing. An ultrasound revealed hypokinesis, which meant not enough movement when his heart pumped. “Normal ejection of the blood out of the left ventricle is 70%. I’m down to 45%. Anything below that is congestive heart failure,” he explained, “I’m right at the border. My heart has to beat three times now to give me the same blood that it used to do with two beats. A small percentage of people have this after open-heart surgery.”

He also watched his father and five uncles die of congestive heart failure. “I watched my father die over a period 10 years. Yes, he was breathing. Yes, he was walking and talking. But he had no quality of life. I’m not going to go that way. I’m going to live every day to the absolute maximum. Each day I wake up is a good one. I’m not going to sit here and wait for death to catch me. I’m going slide into the grave sideways and go ‘Wow, what a ride!’” he explained.

That is certainly one huge motivating factor that drives Wayne to keep running. “I have a can-do spirit, not a defeatist one. In the Green Berets we had a motto, “The difficult, we do right away. The impossible takes a while longer. Miracles are by appointment only.”

Then he added, “Have you seen the movie The Bucket List? My Bucket List is to run a marathon on every continent.” Three weeks ago, he ran the Red Cross Big Five Marathon through a private wild animal preserve in Africa. Before his surgery, he ran marathons in North America, Europe, Antarctica, and Asia, Next year, he’ll go to South America and then Australia. And later this year, he’ll complete his quest to run a marathon in every state in the U.S. He’s returning to Indiana where he was raised to run the Indianapolis Marathon in October. “I’m planning a big party with my family and friends.” The man does have an appointment.

Photos from the Red Cross Big Five Marathon: Top: Runners from the 50 States Marathon Club, this group of six has completed over 1100 marathons; Runners were accompanied by armed rangers to protect them from the wild animals; Elephants blocked the course along the way.

NOTE: If you have a good comeback story, please contact me at sixtwothreetries@gmail.com. I’d like to interview you. I hope this will be one of many Comeback Kid stories. Here’s why.