"One of the most talked about aspects of triathlon training is the mental side of the coin. They say you find your real character during a race. You know who you are when you finish a triathlon. Your wealth and possessions can be taken away from you at any time, but your achievements can not. So when a person decides to become a triathlete, they are also making a decision to find out who they really are, the core of their being. You can run, (and you will...a lot!), but you can't escape coming to grips with who you want to become and who you already are in your life. "
--This is from one of the emails one of my coaches sent out from Team in Training. Nothing rings more true.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
The Fam
Before I go any further about my journey, I must dedicate a post to my parents, particularly my step-mom and dad. The first race I brought my dad to was last year--the Shamrock Shuffle, which was before my first triathlon in June. It was FREEZING outside. He arrived at 6am, and we took the train with all of the other avid runners. He stood outside the entire time, freezing his butt off just to watch 30,000 people fun. After I finished, we were both happy, but it was the moment when I think he realized what all this racing stuff was all about. He knew at this point that I had signed up for the Naperville sprint triathlon, but I don't think quite understood the point, I know that point was not communicated at the Shamrock Shuffle. I just think at this moment he knew racing meant something to me.
The idea of getting up at 3:30am on a Sunday to stand around watching athletes for 5 hours was not my parents idea of a good time either. When I told them that I needed a ride to Naperville and that they had to get up, they were less than excited. They were more than willing, but didn't know what to expect. My dad, however, showed much interest in what I was doing because I think he began to see the slow, positive change in me. He took me the day before to drive the course and to pick up my race materials. I had my numbers drawn on me (little did I know at the time that I could do this myself), and I picked up my race shirt and materials for the next day. He stood around with me to listen to the course talks, and basically repeated everything the man said, even though I was standing right next to him (thanks dad ;). Before leaving, we drove the bike course, and I think it was then that my dad realized what I was about to take on the next day.
Sunday came and I was up at 3:15am, and my step-mom and day were not far behind. I ate my pre-race ritual breakfast--oatmeal with 3 splenda and a smashed banana and a yogurt, and we were on our way. I think my dad wanted to get me to T1 quicker than I wanted to go! I ended up getting a great T1 spot--right on the end of the bike rack where I didn't have to search through the sea of bikes for minutes. My dad would not leave my side--he was taking pictures, telling me how to set up my things (at this point I pulled the "dad I got it!" out). Eventually a race official removed him from my side and told him only athletes were allowed in T1. After setting up, we waited, and waited, and waited. It rained, it stormed, it rained again. My mom and Roy showed up as well, and they all sat together to watch me line up in wave 28. Right before I went off, the announcer said over the intercom, "Julie from Tinley Park, your family loves you and is so proud." I looked up and they were all smiles with a big poster that read "Run Shimko Run!" The R's even had little gym shoes on them...I saw my family coming out of the water, and then I didn't see my family again until the run, but the beginning of the race and their support is all I needed to keep going--even when after the swim I asked myself "What the f&*^ am I doing this for?!"
Since then, my parents have become a part of my lifestyle...more so my father and my step-mom than anything. Even though they missed seeing me through the ENTIRE race, my dad and Debbie still came to the Chicago triathlon to greet me after the finish...me in tears and them wondering where the heck I went so quickly. In September, I joined Team in Training with the dream of racing in Florida in the St. Anthony's Olympic Triathlon with a team. I was told I had to raise $4200...which at the time seemed nearly impossible in this economy. My parents weren't really sure if I was serious...heck I didn't know if I was serious. As I raised more and more money (I will discuss my Team in Training experience in length soon), my family realized I was really going to do this. I was really going to travel down to Florida with a team, having raised money for blood cancers. My dad and step mom have been angels to me during this experience, and I honestly could not thank them more or appreciate them more. My parents have recognized that over the past year and 2 months that I have become a new person. I have become more positive, more driven, more alive, and more optimistic about any challenge I face. Through this journey, I have doubted myself many times, but it's through these times that my parents have helped me through. I will never forget crossing my first triathlon finish line only to fall into the arms of my family crying tears of accomplishment and joy. Thank you :).
The idea of getting up at 3:30am on a Sunday to stand around watching athletes for 5 hours was not my parents idea of a good time either. When I told them that I needed a ride to Naperville and that they had to get up, they were less than excited. They were more than willing, but didn't know what to expect. My dad, however, showed much interest in what I was doing because I think he began to see the slow, positive change in me. He took me the day before to drive the course and to pick up my race materials. I had my numbers drawn on me (little did I know at the time that I could do this myself), and I picked up my race shirt and materials for the next day. He stood around with me to listen to the course talks, and basically repeated everything the man said, even though I was standing right next to him (thanks dad ;). Before leaving, we drove the bike course, and I think it was then that my dad realized what I was about to take on the next day.
Sunday came and I was up at 3:15am, and my step-mom and day were not far behind. I ate my pre-race ritual breakfast--oatmeal with 3 splenda and a smashed banana and a yogurt, and we were on our way. I think my dad wanted to get me to T1 quicker than I wanted to go! I ended up getting a great T1 spot--right on the end of the bike rack where I didn't have to search through the sea of bikes for minutes. My dad would not leave my side--he was taking pictures, telling me how to set up my things (at this point I pulled the "dad I got it!" out). Eventually a race official removed him from my side and told him only athletes were allowed in T1. After setting up, we waited, and waited, and waited. It rained, it stormed, it rained again. My mom and Roy showed up as well, and they all sat together to watch me line up in wave 28. Right before I went off, the announcer said over the intercom, "Julie from Tinley Park, your family loves you and is so proud." I looked up and they were all smiles with a big poster that read "Run Shimko Run!" The R's even had little gym shoes on them...I saw my family coming out of the water, and then I didn't see my family again until the run, but the beginning of the race and their support is all I needed to keep going--even when after the swim I asked myself "What the f&*^ am I doing this for?!"
Since then, my parents have become a part of my lifestyle...more so my father and my step-mom than anything. Even though they missed seeing me through the ENTIRE race, my dad and Debbie still came to the Chicago triathlon to greet me after the finish...me in tears and them wondering where the heck I went so quickly. In September, I joined Team in Training with the dream of racing in Florida in the St. Anthony's Olympic Triathlon with a team. I was told I had to raise $4200...which at the time seemed nearly impossible in this economy. My parents weren't really sure if I was serious...heck I didn't know if I was serious. As I raised more and more money (I will discuss my Team in Training experience in length soon), my family realized I was really going to do this. I was really going to travel down to Florida with a team, having raised money for blood cancers. My dad and step mom have been angels to me during this experience, and I honestly could not thank them more or appreciate them more. My parents have recognized that over the past year and 2 months that I have become a new person. I have become more positive, more driven, more alive, and more optimistic about any challenge I face. Through this journey, I have doubted myself many times, but it's through these times that my parents have helped me through. I will never forget crossing my first triathlon finish line only to fall into the arms of my family crying tears of accomplishment and joy. Thank you :).
Thursday, February 12, 2009
There is no "Off Season"
In most sports, there is a time during the season when one kicks back and takes a breather. Football ends in February (well at least for the the lucky Superbowl title taker), and baseball ends in the fall and picks back up in the spring. The time I am sure is used to imbibe, visit family and friends, and to do, well, whatever one's heart desires. This is not the case for the triathlete...well at least one that wants to run a little faster or swim less like an anchor. There is no off season. I have been training straight now since January 7th of 2008, with the exception of maybe 2 weeks off after a race, or because I got sick (such as this month...I have only been in the gym FOUR times...), or because I just would like to do NOTHING for a couple evenings (aka sit on my ass and eat and watch TV).
I began my office season in September after the Chicago Tri. I hired a triathlon coach named Keith who designed a weight lifting regimen for me to build up my strength, gave me a running threshold test, revamped my swim stroke (to which I am forever grateful), and kept me running, biking and swimming for two months--until my next season started (the season I am currently in). The running threshold test was CRAZY. Try running the fastest and pushing your hardest for 3 miles...that is the test. I was sick for 4 days after that because I have never pushed myself that hard. It felt good. My max threshold was 178...I am curious if it at all has improved--I will most likely test again in August of this year.
For the first time swimming I felt like I was actually moving. I am not more streamlined and have had so many amazing swims where I was truly confident in my stroke, and believed that I might just be able to finish a race without doggy paddling and backstroke (or walking in some cases).
I have come to LOVE running outdoors...give me snow, give me rain, give me both, give me 15 degree weather...I have come to be obsessed with running in the cold. It's so invigorating, and I love knowing that people are now looking at ME going, "Look at that crazy runner...", just as I used to do while driving down Lakeshore Drive in the dead of winter. I love wearing my tights and bundling up and tuning out everything but my iPod and the beautiful views of the city. In October I volunteered for the Chicago Marathon. I was at the 10 mile aid station at 4am, and stayed until 1:10pm. It was amazing to watch all of the runners push themselves, and it was amazing to see people run who looked like they should not be running at all...but they were. I yelled and screamed the entire time. Nothing gets your blood pumping more than hearing peole cheer you on...I speak from experience :). So, if you are ever out to watch a race...please don't just stand there, but bring signs and your loud voice and cheer someone on! I am signed up for the race this year...which will be my ultimate test. Running to me has never come easily. It has become easier over time, and even more enjoyable, but in the past, between my asthma and my smoking habit, it was something that seemed so impossible for me to do for so long. I have goal of just finishing in 5 hours. In other words, I just want to finish. I will be volunteering or going to watch the Steelhead half ironman...my goal for next year. 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13 mile run.
I am currently in season right now--my next race is April 26th in Florida with Team in Training...my first Oly. It is tiring at times, however. Currently I am fundraising for Team in Training, going to grad school, working full time, training, and trying to have somewhat of a social life. I rarely ever get home before 9pm EVERY night of the week. I have class Tuesday evenings, I have training with my team Wednesday evening and on Saturday mornings, and then I must fit time in for homework, my boyfriend, friends, family, training, and lets not forget I work from 8:30-5:30 5 days a week, and sometimes even 8:30am-9pm (which I am currently doing). I am currently exhausted. Yes, I love to race and train...it's my passion. But lets not get that confused with the fact that I HAVE to train to race, and like anything else in life, it becomes tiresome when one has so much going on. I think most people think because I love to train and love to race that I never get stressed because it's my hobby. They are terribly wrong. I am human, and at the moment I am physically and mentally cashed! If I had one more thing on my plate right now, I think I may implode!
So that being said...us triathletes never get a break, but it's the race that reminds us that we can never stop training. It's during the swim, the bike, or the run, when we may become tired and weak, that we remember why we get up at 5am in the middle of winter just to get a swim in, or why we feel guilty when workouts must be compromised due to life that sometimes gets in the way, and it's why racing becomes your life--it becomes part of your being. Even if I was offered a "spring break," I don't think I would take it.
I began my office season in September after the Chicago Tri. I hired a triathlon coach named Keith who designed a weight lifting regimen for me to build up my strength, gave me a running threshold test, revamped my swim stroke (to which I am forever grateful), and kept me running, biking and swimming for two months--until my next season started (the season I am currently in). The running threshold test was CRAZY. Try running the fastest and pushing your hardest for 3 miles...that is the test. I was sick for 4 days after that because I have never pushed myself that hard. It felt good. My max threshold was 178...I am curious if it at all has improved--I will most likely test again in August of this year.
For the first time swimming I felt like I was actually moving. I am not more streamlined and have had so many amazing swims where I was truly confident in my stroke, and believed that I might just be able to finish a race without doggy paddling and backstroke (or walking in some cases).
I have come to LOVE running outdoors...give me snow, give me rain, give me both, give me 15 degree weather...I have come to be obsessed with running in the cold. It's so invigorating, and I love knowing that people are now looking at ME going, "Look at that crazy runner...", just as I used to do while driving down Lakeshore Drive in the dead of winter. I love wearing my tights and bundling up and tuning out everything but my iPod and the beautiful views of the city. In October I volunteered for the Chicago Marathon. I was at the 10 mile aid station at 4am, and stayed until 1:10pm. It was amazing to watch all of the runners push themselves, and it was amazing to see people run who looked like they should not be running at all...but they were. I yelled and screamed the entire time. Nothing gets your blood pumping more than hearing peole cheer you on...I speak from experience :). So, if you are ever out to watch a race...please don't just stand there, but bring signs and your loud voice and cheer someone on! I am signed up for the race this year...which will be my ultimate test. Running to me has never come easily. It has become easier over time, and even more enjoyable, but in the past, between my asthma and my smoking habit, it was something that seemed so impossible for me to do for so long. I have goal of just finishing in 5 hours. In other words, I just want to finish. I will be volunteering or going to watch the Steelhead half ironman...my goal for next year. 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13 mile run.
I am currently in season right now--my next race is April 26th in Florida with Team in Training...my first Oly. It is tiring at times, however. Currently I am fundraising for Team in Training, going to grad school, working full time, training, and trying to have somewhat of a social life. I rarely ever get home before 9pm EVERY night of the week. I have class Tuesday evenings, I have training with my team Wednesday evening and on Saturday mornings, and then I must fit time in for homework, my boyfriend, friends, family, training, and lets not forget I work from 8:30-5:30 5 days a week, and sometimes even 8:30am-9pm (which I am currently doing). I am currently exhausted. Yes, I love to race and train...it's my passion. But lets not get that confused with the fact that I HAVE to train to race, and like anything else in life, it becomes tiresome when one has so much going on. I think most people think because I love to train and love to race that I never get stressed because it's my hobby. They are terribly wrong. I am human, and at the moment I am physically and mentally cashed! If I had one more thing on my plate right now, I think I may implode!
So that being said...us triathletes never get a break, but it's the race that reminds us that we can never stop training. It's during the swim, the bike, or the run, when we may become tired and weak, that we remember why we get up at 5am in the middle of winter just to get a swim in, or why we feel guilty when workouts must be compromised due to life that sometimes gets in the way, and it's why racing becomes your life--it becomes part of your being. Even if I was offered a "spring break," I don't think I would take it.
And so my obsession begins...
After I completed my first triathlon, I took a couple weeks off and then hopped on the horse again. I had my sights set on Chicago. I signed up for Chicago around the same time I signed up for Naperville. I signed up for the sprint, but told myself I would do the Olympic--1 mile swim, 24 mile bike, 6 mile run--(Chad had put it into my head that I would be ready for an Oly). After Naperville, I didn't have it in my heart to do the Oly--I wasn't ready nor worthy of it. So the training continued. I picked up a new training plan, and worked on my swim A LOT. If that is what you can call it. My personal thank you goes to Chad right now for the endless hours spent in Lake Michigan simply helping me walk over the rocks and seaweed at Ohio Street Beach. You may ask, "Well did you actually swim there?" Ha...not until about my 5th time out there. I spent most of my time discovering and trying to get over my HUGE fear of open water. This fear paralyzed me quite a few times in the middle of my quarter mile swim to the first buoy. I would stand, cry, freeze, stop breathing, and search for Chad as he swam laps around me. For some reason anything in the lake that didn't belong there--garbage, rocks, drain pipes, bottles--scared the sh*t out of me. Swimming over the stuff was even impossible. I knew I had to get over this, as the Chicago tri was in Monroe Harbor, where you cannot touch the bottom at all, but yet you can see every damn thing at the bottom (which included wooden carts, bottles, cans, phones, and LOTS of rocks and seaweed). So thanks Chad for letting me swim 10 yards, stop, then keep going, only to stop again 10 yards later.
I spent my summer before Chicago drafting behind Chad training back and forth on the lake path on my bike. I spent many a miles alone plugging along and discovering that though I lacked a car, I did not lack road rage. Please do not walk 4 across on the lake path, and please do not let your children wonder away from you...you may hear me yelling at you. I spent days of watching Kona 2007 and crying tears of joy over how people can complete such a great feat, and I spent the rest of my summer watching Chad tirelessly prepare for his own Kona--the Madison Ironman in September. Training with Chad allowed me to tap into a side of me I never thought I had, and he continually taught me different training techniques, and how to better improve myself. Little did he, my family, my friends, or I know that this journey was in fact changing and improving me as a person, but all of that mushy stuff will come later in this blog. I ran a lot as well. I came to LOVE running and even ran with a Fleet Feet group every Tuesday after work. I began liking the group training. I used to hate running, but running out doors became my new affinity, and I began to loathe running on a treadmill. Nothing made me happier than running on the lake with the skyline of Chicago in front of me on a warm (but not too warm) sunny day. Chad kept telling me that ironman was in my future. I laughed.
A couple weeks before Chicago, I broke down. I was burned out. I was cashed. I was done. I hated triathlons. I would call Brian and mostly Chad crying and wondering "Can I do this?" The getting home at 9pm every night after workout out and a full day of work was killing me. I was always tired, never had time for myself that didn't include running, biking or swimming, and all I wanted to do was, well...NOTHING for once. I was ready to throw my bike into the lake and call it quits. At this point, my social life consisted of hanging out with the strangers at my gym and those I got to know in my DePaul Thursday spin class. I rarely went out, which was no big deal since drinking and partying were so far from my priorities. Training had become my priority, my love, my entertainment, and my fun. It was my world. I was feeling lonely, though. How much can one really train alone and keep the fire burning? It is a one man sport, but luckily I was never alone, and had people around me who believed in me and convinced me to keep going. So that is what I did.
Chicago came as quickly as Naperville did. I met Chad at his house at 3:15am on August 24th so we could ride down to T1 at Monroe Harbor together. It was very amusing to ride my bike down the street as the bars were letting out. I smiled at the fact that these people were going to go home and go to bed with memories of the booze infested night, and I was off to do a triathlon. My neighbors were actually still up and drinking on their front stoop when I stepped out with my morning breakfast ritual--oatmeal with banana mushed in it, and yogurt. When I went back in the house to change and walked back out in my tri gear, one said, "Are you kidding? You really are racing? You are crazy!" I left the house with my drunk neighbors clapping and wishing me luck.
I found myself in the 4th wave, starting at 6:15am. I was very happy to be at the beginning of the heap of 8,000 racers. I was not looking forward to getting swam over and punched and/or kicked in the face; thus my placement kind of helped avoid that. I took a last minute bathroom stop, and ran into my position. I hugged and kissed Brian and hugged Chad and gave him the "This is amazing and thank you, and I cannot believe I am here" eye, and walked into my respective wave. The swim began, but again I was reminded that I needed to train even more. I was okay at first, but then the anxiety kicked in. I couldn't breathe, my goggles kept falling off, filling with water, and I had to keep stopping to fix them. I felt paralyzed as I looked a full half mile to the finish. It looked like an eternity away, but I knew that giving up was NEVER an option, so I kept plugging along. I was lucky enough to have my cousin and Brian walking the ENTIRE swim with me, yelling "You can do it!" and "I love you come on!" and "You are awesome sweetheart." I don't think Brian and Justin know how much that meant to me, and how I will never forget that. I don't think I would have had any courage left at certain points if it weren't for them. I finally finished the swim (if you can call what I was doing swimming) after 27 minutes....27....11 minutes longer than my first triathlon. I climbed up the stairs and ran the brutal uncovered concrete path to my bike. My transition this time only took me 2:15--Thank you lace locks! I headed out onto lakeshore drive for the bike, and all I have to say is damn it Chicago fix the damn potholes on Lake Shore Drive! The bike went well...I finished in 48 minutes, which was 2 minutes quicker than my first triathlon. I enjoyed watching all of the beautiful bikes go by, and was jealous that I was stuck in one upright position. I think that is when I realized "I need a new bike." T2 took me 1:15, and I took off running. The run itself went well, but it was quiet. There weren't as many people cheering, but I was sure to keep cheering everyone else on. I stuck my hand out for high fives on the way back up north back from the 1.5 miles going south, and passed people telling them they were amazing. I had to pay it forward. The run was a tease most of the way since you could hear the finish line from a far distance, but it was a good reminder that I was almost there. I crossed the finish line, and smiled and was proud, and of course cried, but I had no one to celebrate with. My family was lost because they didn't expect me to finish as quickly as I did. I completed the race in 1:51, 3 minutes slower than my first race, BUT my swim was 11 minute slower, meaning I picked up the slack elsewhere. I was still very happy just to finish.
I finally found my family, and we were able to go watch some of the other swimmers and runners. I could watch forever. I loved watching the pros who made swimming look magical and so easy. I also loved watching those who looked like me--struggling, but still going. I cheered on everyone, and I even stayed behind with Brian and Justin to cheer on the VERY last 2 swimmers. Most of the crowd left the break wall already, but again, I had to pay it forward, so I stayed to tell them they were doing it.
After Chicago, I knew I craved more. I wanted to race, to push myself further, and to do that Oly. What I didn't know until I stepped back was that I was a new person. I was changed. My post season with my coach Kevin and my unconditional love of pushing myself into the ground would reveal my willingness to challenge myself and the person I used to be. After Chicago, I knew 2009 would be a big year, and as far as it looks and is going, it indeed will be.
I spent my summer before Chicago drafting behind Chad training back and forth on the lake path on my bike. I spent many a miles alone plugging along and discovering that though I lacked a car, I did not lack road rage. Please do not walk 4 across on the lake path, and please do not let your children wonder away from you...you may hear me yelling at you. I spent days of watching Kona 2007 and crying tears of joy over how people can complete such a great feat, and I spent the rest of my summer watching Chad tirelessly prepare for his own Kona--the Madison Ironman in September. Training with Chad allowed me to tap into a side of me I never thought I had, and he continually taught me different training techniques, and how to better improve myself. Little did he, my family, my friends, or I know that this journey was in fact changing and improving me as a person, but all of that mushy stuff will come later in this blog. I ran a lot as well. I came to LOVE running and even ran with a Fleet Feet group every Tuesday after work. I began liking the group training. I used to hate running, but running out doors became my new affinity, and I began to loathe running on a treadmill. Nothing made me happier than running on the lake with the skyline of Chicago in front of me on a warm (but not too warm) sunny day. Chad kept telling me that ironman was in my future. I laughed.
A couple weeks before Chicago, I broke down. I was burned out. I was cashed. I was done. I hated triathlons. I would call Brian and mostly Chad crying and wondering "Can I do this?" The getting home at 9pm every night after workout out and a full day of work was killing me. I was always tired, never had time for myself that didn't include running, biking or swimming, and all I wanted to do was, well...NOTHING for once. I was ready to throw my bike into the lake and call it quits. At this point, my social life consisted of hanging out with the strangers at my gym and those I got to know in my DePaul Thursday spin class. I rarely went out, which was no big deal since drinking and partying were so far from my priorities. Training had become my priority, my love, my entertainment, and my fun. It was my world. I was feeling lonely, though. How much can one really train alone and keep the fire burning? It is a one man sport, but luckily I was never alone, and had people around me who believed in me and convinced me to keep going. So that is what I did.
Chicago came as quickly as Naperville did. I met Chad at his house at 3:15am on August 24th so we could ride down to T1 at Monroe Harbor together. It was very amusing to ride my bike down the street as the bars were letting out. I smiled at the fact that these people were going to go home and go to bed with memories of the booze infested night, and I was off to do a triathlon. My neighbors were actually still up and drinking on their front stoop when I stepped out with my morning breakfast ritual--oatmeal with banana mushed in it, and yogurt. When I went back in the house to change and walked back out in my tri gear, one said, "Are you kidding? You really are racing? You are crazy!" I left the house with my drunk neighbors clapping and wishing me luck.
I found myself in the 4th wave, starting at 6:15am. I was very happy to be at the beginning of the heap of 8,000 racers. I was not looking forward to getting swam over and punched and/or kicked in the face; thus my placement kind of helped avoid that. I took a last minute bathroom stop, and ran into my position. I hugged and kissed Brian and hugged Chad and gave him the "This is amazing and thank you, and I cannot believe I am here" eye, and walked into my respective wave. The swim began, but again I was reminded that I needed to train even more. I was okay at first, but then the anxiety kicked in. I couldn't breathe, my goggles kept falling off, filling with water, and I had to keep stopping to fix them. I felt paralyzed as I looked a full half mile to the finish. It looked like an eternity away, but I knew that giving up was NEVER an option, so I kept plugging along. I was lucky enough to have my cousin and Brian walking the ENTIRE swim with me, yelling "You can do it!" and "I love you come on!" and "You are awesome sweetheart." I don't think Brian and Justin know how much that meant to me, and how I will never forget that. I don't think I would have had any courage left at certain points if it weren't for them. I finally finished the swim (if you can call what I was doing swimming) after 27 minutes....27....11 minutes longer than my first triathlon. I climbed up the stairs and ran the brutal uncovered concrete path to my bike. My transition this time only took me 2:15--Thank you lace locks! I headed out onto lakeshore drive for the bike, and all I have to say is damn it Chicago fix the damn potholes on Lake Shore Drive! The bike went well...I finished in 48 minutes, which was 2 minutes quicker than my first triathlon. I enjoyed watching all of the beautiful bikes go by, and was jealous that I was stuck in one upright position. I think that is when I realized "I need a new bike." T2 took me 1:15, and I took off running. The run itself went well, but it was quiet. There weren't as many people cheering, but I was sure to keep cheering everyone else on. I stuck my hand out for high fives on the way back up north back from the 1.5 miles going south, and passed people telling them they were amazing. I had to pay it forward. The run was a tease most of the way since you could hear the finish line from a far distance, but it was a good reminder that I was almost there. I crossed the finish line, and smiled and was proud, and of course cried, but I had no one to celebrate with. My family was lost because they didn't expect me to finish as quickly as I did. I completed the race in 1:51, 3 minutes slower than my first race, BUT my swim was 11 minute slower, meaning I picked up the slack elsewhere. I was still very happy just to finish.
I finally found my family, and we were able to go watch some of the other swimmers and runners. I could watch forever. I loved watching the pros who made swimming look magical and so easy. I also loved watching those who looked like me--struggling, but still going. I cheered on everyone, and I even stayed behind with Brian and Justin to cheer on the VERY last 2 swimmers. Most of the crowd left the break wall already, but again, I had to pay it forward, so I stayed to tell them they were doing it.
After Chicago, I knew I craved more. I wanted to race, to push myself further, and to do that Oly. What I didn't know until I stepped back was that I was a new person. I was changed. My post season with my coach Kevin and my unconditional love of pushing myself into the ground would reveal my willingness to challenge myself and the person I used to be. After Chicago, I knew 2009 would be a big year, and as far as it looks and is going, it indeed will be.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
My first ever blog attempt about my first ever triathlon
When I was young, I fought my parents tooth and nail when they tried putting me into any sport or activity that was remotely "girly." I cried my way out of tap dancing, and laughed at cheerleading. The only part of me that even celebrated being a girl were my feet--I played baseball in my first pair of heels from Payless, and I still have the scar on my knee to prove it. I played soccer from second grade through my freshman year of highschool, but then was forced to quit to maintain the C average I was holding and a part-time job. I played softball for a few years, flag football at recess, and loved stepping into a random baseball game at the park to show off my good arm.
When I was 19 I was introduced to the world of weight lifting,"cardio," protein, creatine, and a clean diet. I was in the gym for 2.5 hours a day for months. I ended up with a miniscus tear in my right knee and an obsession with being active everyday. I started doing yoga and spinning classes, and Tae Bo in my basement at my parent's house (I stopped whenever someone came down to do laundry because I looked ridiculous). After years, about 5 of them, I became tired of the goaless and relentless hours spent in the gym. Yes, I wanted to stay in shape and of course lose the few pounds turning 21 had given me, but I felt like something was missing. I stepped into the gym everyday with a plan, but that plan was giving me no fulfillment-no sense of accomplishment. I was a full-blown fulltime smoker for 10 years, so I never really got into running or anything that required me to be out of breath for long. For the health freak that I was, I knew the habit was a little contradictory to everything I was doing, but I didn't care.
Then I moved to Chicago when I was 23. I didn't have a gym membership for the first year I lived here, but I tried what I could to stay active, which mostly consisted of rollarblading 6 miles a day in the summer and "running" (run, walk, run, walk, run....then try to catch my breath). Then I heard about the Shamrock Shuffle in March of 2007, an annual 10K that like 30,000 people run at the end of March, so I signed up, still smoking and all. I trained here and there...I really didn't know what I was doing. Race day arrived, and I ran the 5 miles in an hour, and felt like crap afterwards, but hell, I LOVED the feeling of crossing the finish line. I was addicted to racing from that day forward. I didn't sign up for anymore races that year, but it was after that race that I found out my best friend Laura was training for the Subaru Series all women sprint triathlon in Naperville . I thought she was freakin' nuts, but I became intrigued. I knew I could not run long distances, so this event would let me dabble in three different sports. I let the thought go until the end of 2007 when Laura said she would be training for it again, and it was then that I agreed to do it as well--what the hell. I didn't own a bike, a bathingsuit that wouldn't fall off if I even moved from my back to my stomach on my beach chair, and I certainly did not own a pair of shoes that were even close to being designated as my "running only" shoes. I just knew I wanted to do this, but at the time, didn't know why. I just knew I wanted to feel the rush of crossing a finish line, and this would bring me there with the "Are you nuts?" factor attached.
I met Chad in November of 2007. He was getting ready to sign up for Ironman and had just lost over 100 pounds from gastric bypass surgery. I was just dabbling in the triathlon waters, and he was fully immersed. We are still the best of friends today, but he saw some fire inside of me when we first met that I guess I never saw...until now (I will expand later). From then on, he coached me on triathon jargon and introduced me to the world of swimming, biking, running, heart rate monitoring, energy gels, early morning workouts, and obsessively tracking my workouts on excel. I bought several triathlon books and logged onto sites such as active.com and beginnertriathlete.com--I was obsessed with learning as much as possible, but at this point had yet to sign up for my first tri, choose a training plan, or quit smoking.
January 1st, 2008 arrived, and I knew that base training was beginning on January 7th, and my main training for the June 22 Naperville sprint that I was to sign up for in February was going to begin in March. I had to do something about my smoking. I promised myself and my father that I would quit. I am happy to say that I have been COMPLETELY smoke free for 1 year, 1 month, and 10 days. Let's just say that when base training began, it did not take long for me to realize why I had quit smoking, and also how very long this journey to cardiovascular endurance would take. I look back in my binder of past training plans and journals, and realize that when I first began, I could only run for seven minutes...SEVEN...without stopping. Swimming 25 yards felt like someone was choking me, and bike for 45 minutes felt like an eternity. Today, I can swim 1.5 miles straight, run 6 miles (I am sure I am capable of more, just haven't tried YET), and bike for 60 miles straight (about 3 hours).
I completed my base training, and March rolled around very quick. I barely remember training, but I do remember laughing and ignoring much of the advice my friend Chad gave me. Who needs an expensive bike when I could purchase a hybrid? Who needed salt tabs and wet suits? Who needed to take it slow and steady? Who needed more than one pair of goggles? Not this gal. Yes, I was a beginner, and no I did not need the best of the best because what IF I hated the sport? What if after June 22nd I wanted to quit and say "Eff that!"? I didn't want to spend needless money on at the time what was needless equipment. I bought enough to get me by. I pushed myself a little too far too early, and burned out quickly. I cried, I wondered what I was doing and why many times, but I also remember NOT giving it my all. I remember training at times for the sake of training because I really didn't know what I was getting myself into. I certainly could not answer the question many people ask--"Why?" Since I didn't know why, I just kind of plugged along. I signed up for the Soldier Field 10 miler in May after getting really comfortable running, but was forced to sell my slot with a IT Band and hip injury that threw me into physical therapy for a couple of months ( I am still paying that damn bill). I had to keep my focus for the year--my goal was to become a triathlete, not complete at 10 mile run. My left hip was significantly higher than my right hip since my IT band and my muscles on the left side were so tight and wadded up into a ball under my pelvis. Goodstuff. I spent months strengthening my core, hips, and glutes, and suffered many bruise creating massages by my therapist. Not my idea of a great massage.
June 22nd, race day, arrived and I was PUMPED! I have pictures of my things set up the night before on my bedroom floor so I didn't forget anything. I wanted to save this journey forever. My dad and step-mom woke up early with me as I prepared for my long morning. We got to Naperville pretty early--around 5:15am-- so I could get the best possible spot in T1 as possible-which I did. Right on the end where I didn't have to even look twice in the sea of bikes for my clearly "This is my first triathlon" hybrid. I was to go off around 9:48 am in my wave of yellow caps (condom heads as someone I know refers to us as), however a storm rolled in, killing all the addrenaline I had. The race was delayed a full hour until the weather cleared, but my nerves kept building. Finally it was my turn to go. I knew that the swim was going to be difficult, but not as diffcult as it actually was. The swim was in a lake fed pool. I could not see one damn thing in front of my face. It was horrible. I only trained in a pool since the winter did not allow me to hop into Lake Michigan. I mostly walked the swim since it was a beach-style pool, and in the parts where I could not touch I doggy-paddled and did any stroke that allowed me to keep my head above water. My goggles kept fogging up, and I wondered many times to myself, "Can I really do this?" Surprisingly, the half mile only took me 15:59 minutes. Upon getting out of the water, I began running to T1. It was at that point that I said to myself "What the f*ck am I doing this for?!" That journey to T1 was my wake up call--train harder next time! I got to my bike and it took me 6:15 minutes to transition to getting on my bike and out on the road. The bike wasn't so bad. I almost used it, though, as my time to recollect when I should have been pushing it. One girl was spotted laying on the ground having passed out while riding her bike. She fell face first and scraped her entire front side on the way down--a reminder of what can go wrong. I finished the 14 mile bike ride in 50 minutes--a little slow! I returned to T2, and it took me 2:15 minutes to refuel and get on the road to run the LONGEST 3 miles of my life. I felt like the three miles took forever, but I NEVER walked once. Women were yelling "Good job, keep going!" and "You can do it," and "You ARE doing it!" This is what makes this my favorite race. The support is amazing. I finished the run in 29 minutes...much quicker than what I thought I was going to considering how very tired I was. I finished the race in 1 hour and 44 minutes, and in the top 48% of all of the racers. I was so happy after crossing the finish line that I began crying. I heard the song "Crazy" by Knarles Barkley, and I said to myself, "Yes you are crazy." But I did it. I met my family and friends at the finish line after stuffing my face with a banana, a bagel, and some water and gatorade, and cried in their arms. I NEVER thought I was capable of finishing something like this. If I looked back to the days when I first started working out, I NEVER would have guessed that I would be a triathlete.
From that day, the addiction began, and I fell in love.
When I was 19 I was introduced to the world of weight lifting,"cardio," protein, creatine, and a clean diet. I was in the gym for 2.5 hours a day for months. I ended up with a miniscus tear in my right knee and an obsession with being active everyday. I started doing yoga and spinning classes, and Tae Bo in my basement at my parent's house (I stopped whenever someone came down to do laundry because I looked ridiculous). After years, about 5 of them, I became tired of the goaless and relentless hours spent in the gym. Yes, I wanted to stay in shape and of course lose the few pounds turning 21 had given me, but I felt like something was missing. I stepped into the gym everyday with a plan, but that plan was giving me no fulfillment-no sense of accomplishment. I was a full-blown fulltime smoker for 10 years, so I never really got into running or anything that required me to be out of breath for long. For the health freak that I was, I knew the habit was a little contradictory to everything I was doing, but I didn't care.
Then I moved to Chicago when I was 23. I didn't have a gym membership for the first year I lived here, but I tried what I could to stay active, which mostly consisted of rollarblading 6 miles a day in the summer and "running" (run, walk, run, walk, run....then try to catch my breath). Then I heard about the Shamrock Shuffle in March of 2007, an annual 10K that like 30,000 people run at the end of March, so I signed up, still smoking and all. I trained here and there...I really didn't know what I was doing. Race day arrived, and I ran the 5 miles in an hour, and felt like crap afterwards, but hell, I LOVED the feeling of crossing the finish line. I was addicted to racing from that day forward. I didn't sign up for anymore races that year, but it was after that race that I found out my best friend Laura was training for the Subaru Series all women sprint triathlon in Naperville . I thought she was freakin' nuts, but I became intrigued. I knew I could not run long distances, so this event would let me dabble in three different sports. I let the thought go until the end of 2007 when Laura said she would be training for it again, and it was then that I agreed to do it as well--what the hell. I didn't own a bike, a bathingsuit that wouldn't fall off if I even moved from my back to my stomach on my beach chair, and I certainly did not own a pair of shoes that were even close to being designated as my "running only" shoes. I just knew I wanted to do this, but at the time, didn't know why. I just knew I wanted to feel the rush of crossing a finish line, and this would bring me there with the "Are you nuts?" factor attached.
I met Chad in November of 2007. He was getting ready to sign up for Ironman and had just lost over 100 pounds from gastric bypass surgery. I was just dabbling in the triathlon waters, and he was fully immersed. We are still the best of friends today, but he saw some fire inside of me when we first met that I guess I never saw...until now (I will expand later). From then on, he coached me on triathon jargon and introduced me to the world of swimming, biking, running, heart rate monitoring, energy gels, early morning workouts, and obsessively tracking my workouts on excel. I bought several triathlon books and logged onto sites such as active.com and beginnertriathlete.com--I was obsessed with learning as much as possible, but at this point had yet to sign up for my first tri, choose a training plan, or quit smoking.
January 1st, 2008 arrived, and I knew that base training was beginning on January 7th, and my main training for the June 22 Naperville sprint that I was to sign up for in February was going to begin in March. I had to do something about my smoking. I promised myself and my father that I would quit. I am happy to say that I have been COMPLETELY smoke free for 1 year, 1 month, and 10 days. Let's just say that when base training began, it did not take long for me to realize why I had quit smoking, and also how very long this journey to cardiovascular endurance would take. I look back in my binder of past training plans and journals, and realize that when I first began, I could only run for seven minutes...SEVEN...without stopping. Swimming 25 yards felt like someone was choking me, and bike for 45 minutes felt like an eternity. Today, I can swim 1.5 miles straight, run 6 miles (I am sure I am capable of more, just haven't tried YET), and bike for 60 miles straight (about 3 hours).
I completed my base training, and March rolled around very quick. I barely remember training, but I do remember laughing and ignoring much of the advice my friend Chad gave me. Who needs an expensive bike when I could purchase a hybrid? Who needed salt tabs and wet suits? Who needed to take it slow and steady? Who needed more than one pair of goggles? Not this gal. Yes, I was a beginner, and no I did not need the best of the best because what IF I hated the sport? What if after June 22nd I wanted to quit and say "Eff that!"? I didn't want to spend needless money on at the time what was needless equipment. I bought enough to get me by. I pushed myself a little too far too early, and burned out quickly. I cried, I wondered what I was doing and why many times, but I also remember NOT giving it my all. I remember training at times for the sake of training because I really didn't know what I was getting myself into. I certainly could not answer the question many people ask--"Why?" Since I didn't know why, I just kind of plugged along. I signed up for the Soldier Field 10 miler in May after getting really comfortable running, but was forced to sell my slot with a IT Band and hip injury that threw me into physical therapy for a couple of months ( I am still paying that damn bill). I had to keep my focus for the year--my goal was to become a triathlete, not complete at 10 mile run. My left hip was significantly higher than my right hip since my IT band and my muscles on the left side were so tight and wadded up into a ball under my pelvis. Goodstuff. I spent months strengthening my core, hips, and glutes, and suffered many bruise creating massages by my therapist. Not my idea of a great massage.
June 22nd, race day, arrived and I was PUMPED! I have pictures of my things set up the night before on my bedroom floor so I didn't forget anything. I wanted to save this journey forever. My dad and step-mom woke up early with me as I prepared for my long morning. We got to Naperville pretty early--around 5:15am-- so I could get the best possible spot in T1 as possible-which I did. Right on the end where I didn't have to even look twice in the sea of bikes for my clearly "This is my first triathlon" hybrid. I was to go off around 9:48 am in my wave of yellow caps (condom heads as someone I know refers to us as), however a storm rolled in, killing all the addrenaline I had. The race was delayed a full hour until the weather cleared, but my nerves kept building. Finally it was my turn to go. I knew that the swim was going to be difficult, but not as diffcult as it actually was. The swim was in a lake fed pool. I could not see one damn thing in front of my face. It was horrible. I only trained in a pool since the winter did not allow me to hop into Lake Michigan. I mostly walked the swim since it was a beach-style pool, and in the parts where I could not touch I doggy-paddled and did any stroke that allowed me to keep my head above water. My goggles kept fogging up, and I wondered many times to myself, "Can I really do this?" Surprisingly, the half mile only took me 15:59 minutes. Upon getting out of the water, I began running to T1. It was at that point that I said to myself "What the f*ck am I doing this for?!" That journey to T1 was my wake up call--train harder next time! I got to my bike and it took me 6:15 minutes to transition to getting on my bike and out on the road. The bike wasn't so bad. I almost used it, though, as my time to recollect when I should have been pushing it. One girl was spotted laying on the ground having passed out while riding her bike. She fell face first and scraped her entire front side on the way down--a reminder of what can go wrong. I finished the 14 mile bike ride in 50 minutes--a little slow! I returned to T2, and it took me 2:15 minutes to refuel and get on the road to run the LONGEST 3 miles of my life. I felt like the three miles took forever, but I NEVER walked once. Women were yelling "Good job, keep going!" and "You can do it," and "You ARE doing it!" This is what makes this my favorite race. The support is amazing. I finished the run in 29 minutes...much quicker than what I thought I was going to considering how very tired I was. I finished the race in 1 hour and 44 minutes, and in the top 48% of all of the racers. I was so happy after crossing the finish line that I began crying. I heard the song "Crazy" by Knarles Barkley, and I said to myself, "Yes you are crazy." But I did it. I met my family and friends at the finish line after stuffing my face with a banana, a bagel, and some water and gatorade, and cried in their arms. I NEVER thought I was capable of finishing something like this. If I looked back to the days when I first started working out, I NEVER would have guessed that I would be a triathlete.
From that day, the addiction began, and I fell in love.
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