Hi all - I'm taking a quick break (I'd be lying if I said part of my reasoning wasn't because I wanted to keep my triathlon story up a bit longer...) and I'll be back after the holiday. Mitch and I are going to spend the weekend at the wineries in Hermann, MO in a great little B&B cottage that we just love. I'll be back Monday with photos and a recap, I promise!
In the meantime, enjoy the holiday and have extra special fun on Friday since that's my birthday and all!
As I walked my bike into the transition area, I felt a little dazed. I had just finished the 21 mile ride in less than an hour and a half when I had planned on taking over two hours! I had averaged less than a 4:23 mile when my goal was 5 minutes!! (It's difficult to know my exact time and average because the race organizers tack on both of your transition times to the biking portion). I was FAR ahead of schedule, and I knew that I had enough energy left to finish five miles, even if I was forced to walk the whole way!
I met Ellen at the bike racks, and she helped me think clearly. Let's just say my brains were a little addled and I almost tried to put my hat on over my helmet! Hey, at least I had a good excuse for the shortage of brain power. After one more quick spray of sunscreen (still not a cloud to be seen), we were off!
I had to laugh when I spotted Mitch with the camera - he must have sprinted around the entire transition area to get from the bike-in portion to the run-out portion in time to take this picture! He deserved an award of his own after waking up at 5am & hanging out in the heat all day waiting for me to finish racing. Of course, he couldn't settle for just one picture... he snuck up on us again around the bend.
Well, hello there, Mitch! How'd you get there so fast?! For the rest of the race, I kept thinking I'd see him pop up out of a bush with the camera or something.
And the 5 miles, well - I'm not going to lie - it was tough. It was really, really tough. It was just SO HOT and even though 80% of the route was in the shade, the temperatures were starting to soar well above 90 degrees. Ellen and I had agreed to do 3 & 3 intervals of walking and jogging ahead of time. We had practiced together and it seemed to be a good fit for us. I don't have the best knees, and I was the most under-trained for running (my training had focused on my weaknesses of swimming and biking so much that they had quickly become my strengths - funny how that works).
It quickly became apparent that I wasn't cut out for 3 & 3, so we switched it up to 2 & 2 - my legs had taken a beating from the 21 miles and were just operating on muscle memory at this point. Ellen was so understanding and was willing to do whatever I wanted to do - she said she was only there because I was & her team didn't care about timing, so we could just focus on crossing the finish line & that was that.
You'd think I'd feel bad about taking walking breaks during a triathlon, but if you had been there you'd understand. Probably 90% of the people racing with us were what I call "ST's," as in "Serious Triathletes." They had triathlon team jerseys on and lithe racing bodies and the newest, fanciest racing gear. These people had been around the tri-block if you know what I mean. And, of those 90% of racers? 50% of them were walking at least portions of the route. It was just necessary in the heat. As in, for survival. In fact, Ellen and I actually seemed to be taking the smartest strategy and were actually passing other racers!
Right about mile 4, I was pretty much hitting the wall. Ellen was chipper as can be - excited and thrilled to be nearing the end whereas I was just trying to put one foot in front of the other. At one point I said, "Okay, let's dial back the chipper-ness a notch," and got some laughter out of her. I was struggling. I was tired. Oh, and I'm pretty sure I was REALLY REALLY HOT. And yet, we continued on. Two more minutes, two more minutes. Just keep going.
Until...
Surely we weren't already at the finish line? Amazingly - we were! I told Ellen to go ahead and sprint, she deserved a celebratory finish!
And me? Well, I didn't really have a sprint left in my gas tank, but I managed a nice healthy jog across the finish line just the same.
I couldn't believe I had done it - it was OVER - I had acheived a goal that at many times had seemed out of my reach. Even a month prior to the race, I had considered dropping out and there I was at the finish line! Me, the antithesis of a "ST" or a "SR" (Serious Runner) - I had held my own and finished respectably. The finish line was still there and everything! There were still people behind me!
All in all, I had averaged a 13:22 run. Yes, that's a slow mile pace - but when it's two hours into your workout in the blazing heat it's something to be darn proud of. My goal coming into the race was to finish between 3 1/2 hours and 3 3/4 hours.
My final time? 2:41:38, and I earned every single minute of it.
The comments on yesterdays post were great to read... Klutzymama - it took me about twelve minutes to finish the 500 meters. To give you an idea of my speed, my mom's teammate (an amazing swimmer) finished her 500 in just under 10 minutes and she was the 6th fastest swimmer in the WHOLE RACE. If she would have had open water & not been caught behind people once or twice, she'd have been even faster. Even though 78% of the racers had a faster swim time than me, I am still actually quite happy with 12 minutes. As far as Deb's comment about the hills goes, I had to giggle (for those of you who don't know, Deb is my mom).
Anyway, back to the story... I was climbing out of the pool and walking to the transition area when I heard Beth (my sister) tell me to run & not to slack off - so I picked up the pace. I couldn't help it, I was nervous about running onto the gravel / concrete barefoot! When I got to my bike I was still soaking wet and proceeded to run through my mental checklist... goggles & cap off (check), dry my feet, socks & shoes, sunscreen (why won't the bottle work?!), drink some water, HELMET, and finally bike (duh).
Prior to the race, I had attended a seminar at a local running store on beginner's triathlons - that's where I got the tip to bring a bucket to use as a seat to help get my shoes on. It also doubled as a convenient way to carry all my gear. This was probably the best advice I got because I didn't have to try to balance on one leg while I was drying my feet and tying my shoes!
After wrestling with the spray-on sunscreen cap for a good thirty seconds (it felt like an eternity!), I was ready to get my bike off the rack and head out!
You have to walk your bike to the edge of the transition area before mounting (it's a safety precaution). I really couldn't even tell you how long my transition took - probably less than two or three minutes. I was trying to be speedy without forgetting something crucial that would make my life more difficult over the next few hours (leaving a pebble in my sock or skipping the sunscreen, for example). It felt surreal as I smiled at Mitch and my sisters and headed onto the course.
Right away, I noticed I was riding significantly faster than my goal pace - even uphill. I had been training on a gravel trail (the Katy trail) for months and while I knew the road would be faster, I didn't realize how MUCH faster. My goal was an average of 5 minute miles, and right off the bat I was riding 3:30, 3:45 - all without a race bike! Yep, Mitch and I have road bikes - they're reasonably priced commuter bikes. Not exactly ideal for a triathlon, but it's not like I was in it to win it or anything. Um yeah - next time I'll be borrowing my mom's racing bike! People were FLYING by me and I know I could cut a huge amount of time if I was on a faster bike.
Once I hit the flat portion of the route (miles 3 to 18), I settled into a routine and stayed at a pace of around 4 minute miles. I was pushing hard and a bit nervous that I'd be out of steam for the five mile run ahead. Another idea passed on by my mom turned out to be a life saver... I had tied a bandana around my handlebar post and used it to dry my hands off as they got sweaty or wet from my water bottle. (I don't wear biking gloves). There's really no other way to describe the weather other than: it was hot. Vedy vedy hot. I was thanking my lucky stars that I had spent the last three weeks acclimating my body to the heat because that's really what got me through.
Seemingly before I knew it, I was heading back into town - coming up on the biggest hill of the race. I knew my training had prepared me for hills, but I was still nervous about tackling that giant - it was practically a mile long (and steep too). Right as I approached the base, another rider pulled up alongside me & made some small talk. That was one thing I noticed about this race compared to any others (5Ks, etc) I had done - there's really not a lot of spectators out on the route, so the other participants become your cheerleaders. Nearly EVERY person who passed me on the bike route said something encouraging as they went by. It was so motivating!
After chugging my way up the hill, I was within a third of a mile of the transition area and it was almost an HOUR earlier than anticipated.
I had to shout at my sister as I approached so she would be ready to run. (Even though my mom, her teammate, had finished an hour earlier, she had decided not to start her run until I got back. It was the nicest possible thing she could have done. Completely selfless). I fought back "the choke" as I walked my bike into the transition area - it was the first time I really let myself think I'd finish, and finish well. For months I had been convinced I would be the last one crossing the finish lines and had pleaded with my husband to make them keep the finish line up until I crossed. I couldn't believe there was only one obstacle in my way.
Well, five actually... five long miles in the soaring heat...
Well, my poor husband has already heard me recap every minute detail of the race, so he probably just died a little bit when he realized I was breaking my triathlon story into three parts. But, really, even if nobody reads this but myself, I still want to write about it. It was, after all, my FIRST triathlon. Let me tell you what, I was SO nervous. The heat index on the race was over 100 degrees and there was a heat advisory. Doesn't that just make you want to spend almost three hours racing outdoors?! In mostly zero shade?! With no clouds?! Saturday (the day before the race) my mom and I rode with Mitch and mapped out the bike route, so at least I knew what to expect - few hills, windy flats, and no shade. I was already familiar with the running path - which was (thank God) about 80% shaded.
So, Sunday morning - race day - arrived and I woke up bright and early at 5:00 am. My start time wasn't until 7:09 and thirty seconds (they start swimmers every 15 seconds so people don't get trampled), but I wanted to get up there with plenty of time to get my transition area settled and see my mom's team start at 6:08. Yes, you read that correctly, my mom raced too! She was on a team as the cyclist with a friend of ours (the swimmer) and my younger sister (the runner).
Ellen and I pre-race.
AH! I am wearing the triathlon suit of dooooom. Well - actually I have to admit, it's a LOT less embarassing when you're surrounded by 300 other people wearing something very similar. So, I got the chance to see my mom's team start and cheered her on as she took off on the bike. Then, I waited in the stands with my hubby and my sisters (aka my cheering squad) before it was time to hit the pool deck.
There I am down on the deck waiting for my turn. I was so so so nervous - checking out the people in front of and behind me & trying to determine if I'd need to pass anyone in the first few laps or if they'd need to pass me. I decided I would definitely be getting passed. I was lucky actually, as I had seen quite a few people who were obviously not prepared for the 500 and they were swimming sidestroke, breaststroke, doggy paddling, etc just to get through the swim. Not that I'm judging - they all probably run 4 minute miles, but my point is that it's hard to pass people who are swimming anything other than freestyle.
Only twenty two seconds until it's my turn! At this point I was trying to decide how to best jump into the water without my goggles flying off my head (you weren't allowed to dive in, you had to start in the water).
And... I'm off! The swim was a "serpentine swim" which basically means that you have to duck under the lane rope at each end of the pool. It made me glad I hadn't stressed out about flip turns because they would have been difficult to do and not run into people. It took me a few laps to get the hang of things - I had started out too fast and couldn't get my breathing pace established. But, after a couple of laps (and once I got into the bigger lanes where I didn't have to worry about space quite so much), I really settled into a groove and felt like I could have gone longer.
Before I knew it, it was time to get out of the pool. Can you see how the sun light was shining directly into the sliver of the pool by the ladder? I was blinded & couldn't see a thing! All I could think about was getting into the transition area and getting on my bike!
First of all, I have to say that Ashley was right on my last post! SCUBA stands for Self Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus... and the television show I learned it from was the ever delightful, critically acclaimed, Boy Meets World. Ah, Cory Matthews - I miss your quirky interaction with Mr. Feeny and Topanga! I did have to head over to imdb.com to figure out how to spell Topanga's name though, just in case you thought I was some kind of crazed fan with Shawn Hunter's photo hanging over my bed or something. I'm pretty sure Mitch would object to that kind of display...
In other news... You may remember I've been steadily training (ie over the last six months) for a triathlon race that took place yesterday. I'll have a full recap tomorrow, but in the meantime let me just say... I did it!
Why - more study material of course!
Yes, after Mitch finished his six hour exam two weeks ago, we all met up at a local restaurant for pizza and happy hour beers. I surprised him with the certification material for SCUBA lessons! Yes, that's right - Mitch and I will be getting SCUBA certified this month by my sister's boyfriend (don't worry - he actually lived in the Bahamas and taught SCUBA lessons for a living so he's definitely qualified. No bargain basement SCUBA lessons for me). Now, class - who can tell me what SCUBA stands for? Double extra bonus points if you can guess what t.v. show I learned the acronym definition from (no googling for the answer, play fair!). I shall answer the trivia in my next post and give away a most excellent prize of admiration and accolades wrapped in a shiny bow of approval to the winner.
Cheers honey!
Here's his group of ardent fans and groupies. Well, I guess I'm pretty much the only groupie. To my knowledge, that is. Of course, you can't keep this group pinned down to one location and the party eventually transitioned to our humble abode for the unofficial bar-opening party of 2009 and a cornhole tournament.
That's bag toss for those of you who aren't in the know. Oh, and if you were wondering, the OFFICIAL bar opening party will take place 6/27 - when I can drink again & partake in the festivities. (I haven't been drinking during the last month or so of race training). If you live in the area (or, if you're a stalker and have some frequent flier miles), you're totally invited.
When I received my severance check from my previous employer, I have to admit I gave a moment or two of thought to where I would have spent the money if I had been 22 or 21 when I received it. Three months salary (even for a low paying entry level job) is quite a chunk of money and let's just say visions of a new wardrobe and designer purses danced in my head. Okay, okay, I admit it - anyone who knows me knows I'm not really much of a designer purse kind of gal - but maybe I could be in my money fantasies, all right? In all likelihood, even my 22 or 21 year old self would have been extremely boring and put the check right into savings. Being the 28 year old married self that I am, my husband and I decided to make some improvements to the house and landscaping with the funds.
Our first big step was to put in a french drain. You see, our yard is basically the drain zone for six or seven houses - it slopes directly into a storm sewer on the other side of our fence. Sure, landscaping may seem like an extravagant item (who needs a french drain, right?), but let me assure you it was a necessity. Our sump pump would run continously on rainy days - even flooding our basement once when it didn't kick on.
See what I mean? The one silver lining from the total and complete disaster pictured above was that the clear rainwater (once cleaned up - Mitch dumped over 100 gallons of water into the utility sink during the process), actually left our carpet significantly cleaner than it had been before.
On top of the flood threats, our yard would be a swampland for weeks after heavy raining - with standing water as prime breeding ground for mosquitos. Mitch was out after dusk once and was literally attacked by mosquitos - I counted 12 on his shirt before I ran for cover. (My dislike of mosquitos has been documented previously).
Add up those factors and they suddenly start to turn into a sound reason to make an investment in a french drain. For those of you who don't know, a french drain is an underwater pipe that gathers up excess water and transports it elsewhere (in our case, the storm sewer next door). Since having it installed a few weeks ago, we have been SO happy with the results. Our yard dries out more quickly (allowing for easier mowing), our sump pump hardly runs at all, and we're keeping water away from our foundation more effectively, which is always a good thing.
Now, on days like yesterday (it was raining cats and dogs and probably small ponies out there), you can still see what it was like before the installation.
Mitch likes to call this "A River Runs Through It."
Here you can see the storm sewer in our neighbors yard. Once it stops raining, water will pour out of our french drain for hours - keeping everything moving swiftly out of our yard. Even with the complete deluge out there, our sump pump did not kick on ONCE.
Here is a photo taken about a half hour after the rain slowed down:
You can still see the rain pooling in our neighbors yard, but ours is already clear. Take a look at how much water is pouring out of our drain:
I know it's hard to see, but it's literally pouring out like a fire hose! It may not be a designer handbag or a new wardrobe, but it brings me girlish delight just the same.
I didn't want to post a photo of the diaper cake earlier, on the (very) slim chance that my cousin reads my blog. Now that her shower is finally over, I can share our masterpiece with the internet at large...
I mean, seriously - that's adorable, right? The rubber ducky at the top of the cake is actually also a faucet cover so the little munchkin doesn't impale himself while in the bathtub. (On second thought, maybe I could use one of those contraptions)! The rubber ducky on the base of the cake is heat sensitive and turns a different color when the water is hot. It didn't come with instructions, so I guess when it says "hot" it means "too hot" and not "just hot enough." You moms out there will have to explain in the comment section. Call me old fashioned, but I'm thinking her hands could achieve the same trick. Of course, the ducky also serves the secondary purpose of being ADORABLE and a SUPER HERO. Much like my nephew when he wears his 'Super Grant' gear.
See what I mean? Gah! I am dying of adorableness. That happens a lot on this blog, doesn't it?
Anyway, the shower was really fun & lasted the perfect length of time (one hour twenty minutes from start to finish). I wish we had a better view of her opening the presents (that's my favorite part!), but she wasn't a fan of all the attention. Of course, she's one of those lucky pregnant girls who still look absolutely amazing while being 8 months pregnant at the same time.
See? I certainly do not have the same genes and can assure you that I'll blow up like a balloon someday when I have my own baby bump. It will not be unlike a cross between a beached whale and a blowfish. Not that I'm planning on finding out any time soon, mind you. I just want to set expectations that if you stumble across this blog many moons in the future you will not have to decide we can no longer be friends because the words "I wore my pre-pregnancy jeans on the way home from the hospital" appeared on my site. Capiche?
Obligatory family shot:
Susan couldn't make it (too many activities, not enough hours), but I do think it's a cute photo of the rest of us. From left: Beth (she's the one who made the diaper cake with me), my mom, me (hopefully you've figured that out by now), and Ellen.
What you cannot see in this picture is my sheer and utter exhaustion from a twenty mile bike ride this morning. People,the race is in 7 days and I am terrified.
And what a year it was.
2003 was the year of my sister's wedding (and, coincidentally her bridal shower, as that's how these things usually work).
Wow - Susan (in the upper row in the white sweater) looks so different with long hair! Beth and Ellen too! Aww - look, you can see the bow bouquet on the table and everything! This photo was in Nancy's old house - she's on the right in the front with my mom. She used to be our neighbor & then decided to up and ABANDON us and move to Omaha. I haven't stopped crying since. Okay - I may have stopped once or twice, but not in my HEART.
2003 was also the year Beth, Ellen, my mom and I went to Disney World - I had to show the girls around my old stomping grounds after all. Susan was probably still on her honeymoon or something, but she was with us in spirit.
And to think, six years later I'd get a GREAT photo of my husband on that same ant... My how times have changed.
2003 was the year my sister Beth was still working at the humane society and we fostered SIX kittens for several weeks. We bottle fed them and everything (I'm using the term 'we' here very loosely. I did about 5% of the work). Though, it wasn't NEARLY as much work as when we fostered five or so Coon dogs... the de-worming process alone still gives my mom nightmares. Right now, she is saying to the computer screen "That was the MOST disgusting thing I have ever seen." And she's seen a lot. She used to work in Labor and Delivery at a city hospital, people.
Aww, aren't they just adora.... Wait! Quick - I'm allergic to cats - I have to change the subject before (AHCHOO). Too late. Wait a minute, did somebody mention a wedding way up there before the cat debacle?
Ah! That's better. My sister looked. absolutely. positively. beautiful. Stunning!
Oh, and did I mention SOMEBODY graduated from college? Magna Cum Laude? Oh, if only I could go back to that girl, shake her shoulders violently and say, "Get your Master's right now, don't wait!" Oh, I'd also probably drop her some lottery numbers or something for good measure. And I'd tell her to start mentally preparing for Brad & Jen's break-up. There are some things you just would never expect, you know?
I know, I know - I promised you pics from 2003 & I will deliver. Eventually. I'm certain I will. It's just that - did you know today is WEDNESDAY already? How did that happen? Yesterday I was so busy at work I didn't even notice my support cushion on my office chair was missing until, oh, today. That's right, I was so busy I didn't even sit back in my seat! Granted, my support cushion is really just a throw pillow, but that's beside the point. Fact of the matter is I was swamped.
And now I've got all these things I want to put out in the blogoshpere - so I'll have to make it fast because I've got a conference call in 20 minutes and I haven't even had my breakfast yet (much less my caffeine). You know what that means? You get bullet points - horray!
Now, for my reality tv roundup:
My poor husband - you should SEE our DVR scheduled recordings. I'm sure he's embarassed by association.
