Journey 70.3: Anything is Possible!

10 months of planning. 10-12 hours / week of training for the last 16 weeks.  Here I am in Atlantic City on September 21 getting ready for my first 70.3 half Ironman in 2 days.  After spending a week being a germophobic, weather hawking, tapering triathlete, I finally give up checking the weather and resign myself to whatever it will be since the forecast is changing constantly but looking like some rain.  I am here, I am ready and I am excited.

Mike and I arrive Friday and check into our AirBnB in Ventnor ahead of the 5 others joining us (more on that in forthcoming post).  We decide to pick up our packets and check out the race venue.  My excitement becomes greater seeing the Ironman brand in full force.  While my exercise is tapering, my hunger is not so we go to the Biergarten meet and greet for some food and mingling, meeting some nice triathletes who traveled from Indianapolis for the event.

Saturday is a beautiful sunny day.  We have to drop our bikes off the day before so we ride the 1.6 miles to the venue, and go to the athlete briefing.  Stephen Del Monte is a well regarded and beloved race director who gives a thorough and lively 1 hour athlete briefing.  What fun it is to go to the Women for Tri Meet and Greet and meet fellow women athletes who are active on the Facebook page.  Mike and I then do a brief run warm up on the boardwalk and return for pasta dinner prep and final race preparations.  My wonderful parents travelled to cheer us on so we adorn them in spectator gear.

The alarm sounds at 4am on Sunday and I’m looking forward to the day.  While this is the biggest and most important race so far of my racing career, my past experiences keep me calm and I go into normal race prep mode – eat my bagel, dress, and put on sun lotion even if I am uncertain of its necessity. As I’m about to head out the door, my quick transition shoe lace comes apart.  Uh oh – I run and grab an extra shoe lace and some twist ties so I can figure out what to do the in car.  It turns out we have plenty of time in the car for the 1.6 mile drive as there is a serious traffic jam just getting to the race venue.  It’s frustrating but we stay calm and get parked by about 5:45am. Time then flies as I do all of the last minute prep in transition, get my wetsuit on and the race begins at 6:50. Here’s how the race goes:

SWIM:  I’m remarkably calm as I line up in the 46 – 55 minute wave and wait my turn. As I get closer to entry, amazing volunteers cheer us on and encourage us and the line speeds.  Boom, I’m off!  Since I have confidence I will meet the 1h10 cut off with a smooth sailing pace, I decide not to push my pace and just keep calm.  At times, I get caught up in swim traffic and people are bumping into me. It feels like a washing machine, especially near the buoys.  Keep calm and just keep swimming I tell myself.  Before I know it, the exit is in site.  As I exit, I look at my watch and I’m right where I thought I would be around 53 minutes (54:10).  I use the wet suit strippers, a luxury I’ve never had, although I’m not sure how much faster it is as they struggle over my watch.

Seaweed beards are in!

T1:  I have a great spot along the other Philly Tri Club members near an exit and where I can see my parents cheering me on.  Rich Montgomery, the TriClub president, sees me and kindly tells me I have a green seaweed beard!  I learned after the MV tri a couple weeks ago to have a small towel to dry my feet to put socks on (which I don’t do for shorter races), which doubles as the beard removal method.  I also decide to wear my arm warmers given the cooler temps.  I end up having a 10 minute transition due to all of this and also because it takes me about 5 minutes to run and cycle out of transition to the bike course.

BIKE:  It’s not raining yet so I decide to get aggressive and pedal strong to make headway.  It’s a flat course and when I check my watch from time to time, I can see I’m consistently pedaling above 16-17 mph.  I complete loop one and begin the next loop on the Atlantic City Expressway – a new experience going through EZ-Pass lanes toll free!  Every time I go over the time chip checkpoint I think about the people virtually tracking me and cheering me on. 

Pedal to the medal pre-rain!

 The drizzle comes and soon turns into rain, and then heavier rain.  This is the most miserable fun I’ve ever had, I think to myself.  I pull into T1 with a very respectable bike of 3h22:54, 16.48 mph.

"The most miserable fun I've had!"

T2:  I bike the .5 miles that are part of the transition back in. I’m soaked so I change socks for the run.  I also have to pee so I head for the porta potties on my way out of transition – unfortunately I have to wait a few minutes.  All of this adds up to my longest transition ever at 12 minutes.

RUN:  Like every race, once I’m off on the run, I feel confident I will finish.  But this is my first half marathon run so I don’t know how I will fair.  My longest training run was 90 minutes, which equated to 8.5 miles.  The rain continues but the run along the boardwalk provides for interesting scenery and distractions.  And the volunteers at the aid stations are amazing.  Many are high fiving us, cheering us on by name.  I know I didn’t drink enough on the bike so I pause briefly for water at all of the beginning aid stations.  

A woman in my age group (I’ll call her ACK for her Adorandeck tri club suit) passes me but is just within my pace so I tag on behind her.  At the fishing pier, I see my parents who have wisely taken cover from the rain under a gazebo.  Out and back on the pier and for a period of time I’m on ACK heels drafting her – I’m sure she is annoyed, and I can tell she is tiring but I am staying strong so at some point I pass her.  I’m keeping a good pace until I hit a period where we have to navigate some sand and uneven surfaces.  About mid race, I also start to feel hungry so I decide to do a walk through one aid station long enough to eat a piece of banana.  ACK probably caught up to me during this and passes me so I once again stay on her heels.  I blow past the next aid station while she briefly pauses, she passes me again, I stay on her heels and pass her again at the next aid station.  

On the heals of ACK!

“Wahoo – we’re at ten miles people” I announce to my fellow racers as if they didn’t see the marker. With only a couple of miles to go, I pick up the pace and maintain it leaving ACK behind.  I know the finish line is approaching but I can’t quite tell how far it is, but then I see it.  I’m wet, I’m happy, and I know I can claim my first 70.3 as I raise my arms in jubilation.

ACK comes over the finish line soon after me.  In the end I look her up and she beat me by 1 second!  But we know this is really only a competition against ourselves and about getting better and better.  She pushed me to my best, and I’m sure I wouldn’t have finished my run in 2h14:18 if hadn’t been for her.  Since the gun time clock reads 7h21 when I cross the finish line, I’m not sure if I met my best possible goal of finishing under 7 hours, but looking at my watch, I see I finished at 6h53:55!

I DID IT!!!!!!

When I started my 70.3 journey, I was afraid of meeting the cut off times of a 1h10 swim, a bike that finished within 5.5 hours of my start, and a 8.5 total time limit. Despite the weather, I didn’t end up having any troubles.  My TriDot training program guided me perfectly, without injury and without overdoing it.  I proved Ironman’s motto that even at age 50, Anything is Possible!  Now I actually believe I physically could do a full Ironman 140.6….

Anything is Possible!!!

Twas the Night Before AC 70.3

'Twas the night before the AC 70.3, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The tribags were packed by the front door with care,

In hopes that Steve Del Montesoon would be there;

The athletes were nestled all snug in their beds;

While visions of finish lines danced in their heads;

And mamma in her trikit, and I in my swim cap,

Had just settled our brains for a long pre-race nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the Atlantic Bay,

Gave a lustre of Bader where transition objects lay,

When what to my wondering eyes did appear,

But an AC jitney and eight volunteers,

With an energized driver so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment he must be St. DelMo.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, Denise! now, Kristy! now Mindy and Maggie!

On, Rachel! on, Ryan! on, Dawkins and Teddie!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;

So up to the housetop the coursers they flew

With the sleigh full of swag, and St. DelMo too—

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each bike shoe hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. DelMo came with a bound.

He was dressed all in lycra, from his head to his foot,

And his body was all tarnished with tritats and soot;

A bundle of pint glasses he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.

His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

For he had never learned how to say the word no;

The stump of a shot block he held tight in his teeth,

And the gu, it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a flat toned belly

That stayed put when he laughed, unlike a bowl full of jelly.

He was cheery and fit, a right jolly young elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the tribags; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his jitney, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—

“Happy Ironman 70.3 to all, and to all a good night…brought to you by DelMoSports and Inspira Health Network!”

Journey 70.3: Martha’s Vineyard Race Rehearsal

The Vineyard Tri is a great group of friends & Island visitors

As our favorite near end-of-the-season race on Martha’s Vineyard approached, I looked at my TriDot training plan for my 70.3 and saw the weekend called for a “race rehearsal” which included a 3 hour plus bike and a 40 min run.  Perfect, I could use the MV half iron distance Aquabike – a real race – as part of my training plan by moving my hour swim the day before to race day, and then just doing my own run.  We once again planned our house party weekend and welcomed our friends Diane and Eric to our Martha’s Vineyard home.

My goal for this race was to use a harder course (typically choppy ocean swim and hillier bike course) to prove I could make the cut off times for the Half Ironman Atlantic City (HIMAC) bay swim and flat bike course, and feel good running off the bike.  This would mean I would also need to do much better than my last half iron distance Aquabike on this course in 2014, when the swim took me 1h13 (3 min past the 1h10 HIMAC cutoff, albeit in very tough swim conditions) and the bike took me 4h15, with a 3 minute transition resulted in a total time of 5h31 (1 min past the 5h30 HIMAC cutoff for the first 2 events). And, I remember getting off my bike totally exhausted and thinking there was no way I could run even a short distance let alone a half marathon.  The title of my blog post, GULPS and FIRSTS, conveys my overwhelmed state with the distance at that time.

The Martha’s Vineyard Triathlon has traditionally taken place on Sunday but was switched to Saturday this year.  We all hoped this would bring us good luck.  Every year on Saturday we do a warm up swim in Inkwell Beach calm waters only to the next day face a very different turbulent Atlantic Ocean.  This year, we passed on the pre-race day warm up swim as the chilly air and choppy waters were not drawing us in.  Here’s how the race went:

SWIM:  Wahoo – we have relatively calm waters on Saturday morning for our 7am start.    Surveying the course, fortunately the longest part of the swim is with the current.  We go off in two’s, so Mike and I start together but I soon find myself completely alone with not many swimmers in sight. As I round the first buoy I aim farther to the left of the next buoy to account for the current, but it does not pull me as expected so I probably get a little extra swim in.  As I make my way to the far distant buoy in the longest part of the course, a kayaker approaches me and is pointing towards the buoy as if I was going off course (I don’t think I am) and he keeps staying very close to me. I feel like I must be the last swimmer. Then another kayaker starts following me.  I make my way to the finish convinced I must be last but look at my watch and I’m incredulous to see I did the swim in 40 min, and as I’m running off to transition I hear more cheers for the later swimmers.  The race Gods seem to be on our side because by late morning the surf whips itself into a tizzy again.

T1:  As I’m in T1, I hear “last swimmer out of the water”. There are a few of us in T1, but most people have exited.  I struggle to get my socks on – I usually don’t wear socks for shorter races, but I will need them for the run when I do HIMAC so I do it as practice.  And, unlike the last time I did the Half Aquabike, I remember to reapply sunscreen (a mistake that caused me to take a break and buy some the last time in the middle of this race).  It may be unnecessary given the cloudy conditions but the weather can change quickly on MV, and this is practice for the real thing. My transition is more than 4 minutes – slower than normal for me - but I have more preparations for the long course. 

BIKE:  My friends Peter and Linda are cheering me on at the transition exit as I mount my bike.  It’s great riding on my home course -- the ride I do most Sundays as a group ride.  I have had a couple of practice runs on my tri bike.  The traffic going through Vineyard Haven is a little tough and slows me down slightly.  A couple of people pass me and then I’m on Lamberts Cove Road and hear someone constantly shifting behind me so I keep up the pace not to be passed again.  I’m speedy on the downhills and flats, slow on the uphills.  HIMAC will be flat so I’ve practiced more on the flats as people tell me it’s not as easy as you think to constantly be pedaling without rolling hills.  

Suddenly, a fawn jumps across the road in front of me, fortunately just out of distance from what could have been an ugly collision.  I’m amazed how fast the miles click by – 10 miles, 20 miles…. I pass Eric and then Mike going the opposite way on State Road since they have already looped around the Aquinnah cliffs.   I catch up to a male with strong looking legs (“Mr. Legs”) and fly by him on my tri bike – yippee!  He catches me again on an uphill.  As I approach the Aquinnah cliffs, I overtake him again and knowing the course, quickly take the turn onto Moshup trail, whizzing by the police officer monitoring the intersection.  I know I can go fast on this stretch so I go all out.  I stop briefly at the aid station to refill my torpedo hydration system. There is no sign of Mr. Legs.

I keep pushing on and encounter a woman on a road bike who is looking pretty tired at around mile 40. I keep up my strength and pass her. I forgot my Garmin watch so I’m relying on a basic Timex Ironman watch and my own calculation of speed with every 10 mile marker.  I think I’m averaging over 15 mph, which is what I need to do.  I’m done with all of the Up Island hills and on the flat part of the course now so I know if I can keep up my speed, I’ll meet my goal.  I turn to enter the Katama part of the course. I’m on the lookout for cars at intersections since there are no police officers here, and narrowly avoid a collision with one speeding car.  

Last push on Beach Road and oh my, the wind resistance!  It feels like this last bit is taking me forever.  I pass a very slow male rider who I think must be part of the Sprint course. I finish with a 3h37 bike, a 15.4 mph pace.

(MY OWN) RUN:  After handing in my chip, I transition into my running shoes, take a quick bathroom break, and head out on my 40 minute run. I’m supposed to do it at race pace, 9:15.  Without my Garmin, it’s hard to tell but I’m guessing I’m running around a 10 – 10:30 pace. My feet are numb coming off the bike but fortunately that dissipates.  My shins are hurting slightly but after I take a quick break at a water stop, they feel better.  Overall, I feel pretty good and I can envision being able to keep going in 2 weeks. I see Diane on the run – wow, she’s flying – I need to boogie back so I can capture pictures of her finish!!

A personal best for Diane!

Eric's first 70.3!

Mike finishing strong!

RESULTS:  I met my goals, beating myself from 4 years ago with a time of 4h23 (1h8 faster!!) and feeling confident going into HIMAC.  And, I got a 3^rdplace medal to boot for the female Aquabike category, although there were only 3 of us.  As my swim coach used to say – I still beat everyone who didn’t start the race that day!  Diane had a goal to break 6 hours and had the race of her life with a personal best of 5h18!!  Eric completed his first 70.3 with a time of 5h46.  Mike had one of his better times of 5h49.   Based on GPS calculations, the swim course was about 500 yards short of 1.2 miles, and the bike course was about .75 miles short of the 56 miles. But even factoring that in, we can all be very happy with our times.

Diane is in a league of her own!

Podium finishes are fun - even when you are 3/3!

That night we do a post race BBQ.  My friend Peter who cheered me on at the bike start informs me that was him behind me on the bike course.  It turns out he was the “the sweeper” who was following the last person on the course. I laugh, telling him how he made me go faster since I didn’t want anyone else passing me.  He informs that me Mr. Legs made it but struggled the last half of the course.  That was me last time, but not this time.  Properly training with TriDot and a new tri bike have made all the difference 4 years later.  #gettingbetterwithage

Showing off our Bad Martha's tattoos!

Journey 70.3: A Successful Early Season

The Philly Escape Triathlon

So far so good!  I’m 7 months through my 10 month plan to complete my first half Ironman.  In the TriDot Preseason project, my training focused on increasing my functional threshold in each sport, and I’m happy to say it’s been working.  It’s a thrill at age 50 to achieve PRs and demonstrate we’re never too old to improve.  PRs make us feel good, but I continue to love this sport for the impact it has on people’s lives.

In May I raced my fastest 5K ever (25:55), at the American Heart Association (the AHA) Wall Street run, supporting a charity that has made a big impact in peoples’ lives.  The American Heart Association is the nation’s oldest and largest voluntary organization dedicated to fighting heart disease and stroke, the number 1 and 2 killers globally. They are working toward improving the cardiovascular health of all Americans by 20 percent, and reducing deaths from cardiovascular diseases and stroke by 20 percent, all by the year 2020. 

In early June, thanks to my Tridot training and my new tri bike, I cut 7 minutes off my fastest time at the Seaside Sprint in Bridgeport.  Perhaps I was inspired by the movie about P.T Barnum, entrepreneur founder of the circus and former mayor of the city who helped to establish Seaside Park, who once said, “Be cautious and bold”, a good motto for we triathletes.

I was "cautious and bold" on my first tri bike race

Last weekend, we joined our good tri friends Diane and Erik for the Philadelphia triathlon, making it our 5^thannual event.  It was the second time I did an Olympic distance race and again cut 7 minutes off my previous time.  Decked out in my Philadelphia Tri Club kit, I benefited from the cheers and encouragement of my fellow racers and spectators.  Barb and Diane inspired us all with their 3^rdand 2^ndage group wins, Barb’s first ever podium placement!

Professional looking transition!

The older athletes continue to amaze me.  With my milestone birthday, I happily entered a new age group, which usually gives you a competitive advantage, but I was surprised to find that not so!  The women in my new age group are doing something right, pushing themselves to new levels of athletic achievement.  It’s been inspiring and fun to follow my fellow 50 year olds (and older) on the Women for Tri community site also training for their first half Ironman or Ironman races.  Recently a pair of 78 year old women announced, to rousing fanfare, they are training for their first sprint triathlon.  We all have a lot of work to do to match Sister Madonna Buder, the Iron Nun, who is the oldest person (not just woman!) to successfully complete a full distance Ironman at age 82.  Her book, “The Grace to Race,” was my favorite springtime read.

For the next 3 months, I’m increasing my distances and weekly workouts to 10-12 hours at peak periods through my TriDot plan.  This is the first time I’ve gotten to comfortably and regularly running 10K without an injury. I now feel comfortable on my new tri bike and have a heart rate monitoring tri watch, but more importantly, I increased my confidence and mental fortitude in the first half of the season so I’m ready for the new challenges that lie ahead!

Barb and I race together again

Our annual Philly tri picture

Long Journeys

The Philadelphia Tri was about 2 weeks away, and I felt ready other than I should have been swimming more.  I was having trouble fitting it into my schedule, and my body was been begging me for some rest days.  I had trained longer, harder and on a more broad spectrum than any of my other events.  After having a rough time emotionally in early November, I dove into a new workout plan.  For the first time in years, after working through some quirky injuries, I was back to running on regular basis.  I had added a lot more weight lifting and core work this time.

With the tri 2 weeks away, I reflected back on the last 8 months as being surreal.  One thing is certain, the Universe keeps sending lessons until your wounds are healed.
The first lesson:  Being physically strong, I have determined, helps with being mentally strong.  There are also clear physiological benefits exercise has on your brain chemicals.  Exercise boosts dopamine and serotonin; and endorphins counter cortisol (the stress hormone).  When it comes to oxytocin though, (the love and trust hormone) you're on your own; there is no artificial substitute for something that just happens naturally and unexpectedly.  

November to this day has been a long journey.

November:  As I was in emotional turmoil and also in a self described "literary black hole", a good friend loaned me "The Shack".  This book is about a journey, and I realized that I myself was on one.  I did not understand why it had started or where it was supposed to go, but the book helped me to find direction and most importantly, healing and a belief that I would be ok.
The second lesson:  you need friends who know how to push you without breaking you.  These are the people who tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear.  They increase your energy level instead of taking it from you, and reflect your own kindness back to you.
Towards the end of "The Shack" I read these words:  "If anything matters then everything matters.  Because you are important, everything you do is important.  Every time you forgive, the universe changes; every time you reach out and touch a heart or a life, the world changes; with every kindness and service, seen or unseen, my purposes are accomplished and nothing will ever be the same again".  I finished the book just after Christmas and began looking at life a little differently.  

When I signed up for the Philly Tri in January, I tucked the secret goal of having a podium finish way in the back of my mind.  Planted there like a seed, I got to work.  I even went to the lengths of checking last years times for my age group, so I knew where I needed to be... and that place was far away.   First, I needed help with drinking less wine, and finding an eating schedule that worked with my exercise routine.  I reached out for help and support from friends and found it easy to accept,  In fact the more I allowed myself to accept help and caring, the stronger I got.  Another book was shared with me:  Running and Being by Dr. George Sheehan who wrote:  "But it is not the reckless pursuit of catastrophe, it is the acceptance and perfection of the persons we are meant to be.  In that perennial process so frequently fatiguing, often depressing and occasionally painful, courage is the bridge between our minds and our bodies".

Cathy and I were more or less raised that big girls don't pout or cry; so when my life started to unravel I did my best to put on a brave face every day.  I have always been good at hiding my feelings and emotions except around those very few, whom I trust and have allowed to know my soul.  And fully unravel it eventually did, like a ball of yarn in a room full of cats.  In April my husband and I did marriage counseling, which ended with me saying I didn't want to be married anymore.  With very little sleep during this time I came down with bronchitis; and did the Hempfield Tri a week later even though I was exhausted.  Tweaked my hamstring there, the run was bitterly cold.  While I was running a 28 minute 5k before, I now had to take a full week off to recover from bronchitis and a sore hamstring and start all over again.
The next several weeks were very difficult for someone with a sensitive heart.  Ultimatley, I filed for divorce in May, and moved out a few weeks later.  Again, more time taken away from training and loads of added stress.  My secret goal was fading into the vague notion that I might be able to obtain it next year.  George wrote in the latter chapters of the book about crying happy tears.  I had cried plenty of sad tears and even a few angry or frustrated tears over the last several months.  Reading that a few days before the Tri, I wondered what it would be like to be so happy, that you would cry happy tears.

Heading to Philly Saturday I was so excited just to be having an adventure.  That's what life has always been for me, and the best adventures are always shared with good friends and people you love.  I was ready for the event physically and mentally, but mostly just so ready to laugh and have fun.  Sunday, I woke up before my alarm, ready to take on the day and leave no doubt that I had given everything in the race.
Arriving at the river, the half mile swim in a less than clean environment which had daunted me in January looked calm and serene.  I was not afraid, I knew I could do this.  It was hard.  The water was a little colder than I expected, murky, and there was the usual random panic attacks.  The buoys went by one after another:  800, 700 (don't stop), 600, 500, 400 (I'm almost there) 300, 200, (there's the dock) last 100 and I'm out of the water.  I ran full speed up to my bike and did my best to collect myself before grabbing my bike off the rack and running out of transition.  I kept a close eye on my average speed on the bike leg, I was feeling good and pushing hard.  The hills were no problem after doing the hills of Gretna for the last several weeks, and I passed riders at every opportunity.  Towards the end I was averaging over 16mph, which is very good for me.  "Keep your pace" and "don't let up" were in my mind.  I dismounted the bike and ran it in to transition.  My legs were sweaty and I had a hard time pulling up my knee sleeve.  I considered going without it, and later would be so glad I didn't.  The first mile was steady, "I feel pretty good".  After running for months with no knee pain, the second mile was sheer agony.  I had no idea why my knee hurt so badly and I just kept saying "don't stop" and "don't walk".  I've always had a kick at the end of a race, and in his book George talked about staying on the person in front of you until the last 1/4 mile to be more energy efficient.  So I did just that, hanging behind people - passing them and hanging behind someone else.  Using other people's energy George style until the last 1/4 mile; and then the final 100 yards where I sprinted to the finish as usual.  I handed in my chip, got my medal, and looked around for the rest of our group.  I knew my run was a disappointing 32 minutes, but I was proud of my effort, and for not giving up any of the times that the pain in my body told me to stop.  I ate some food, drank a few sips of Mike's beer, then he told me where I could go to get my official time.  At the tent, a receipt with my time spat out from the machine and I looked at all my leg times with a small degree of satisfaction.
Then I saw it:  Division Place:   3
I just looked at it in disbelief, "this can't be right".  And then the happy tears came.  
Under it there was a disclaimer:  The division place listed above does not guarantee you an award.  Well there you have it, it was probably some sort of computer error.  But it wasn't, I placed third in my age group, and had achieved the podium finish I had dreamed of in January.

The third lesson:  So you see, big girls do cry.  They cry sad tears, angry tears, frustrated tears, and train for triathlons anyway.  Then they cry happy tears, and take home a trophy.
I joked with Cathy, "maybe there were only 3 people in my division" and we laughed hysterically.  She said if that were true, then there were a bunch of people who had decided not to get out of bed that day.
In the words of Dr. George Sheehan:  "We forget that the opposite of the present is not the past or future; it is absence."
Life is like triathlons, you have to show up to win.

                    

Journey 70.3: The Inaugural Tri Bike Ride

Cathy goes from wobbly to ROARING!

Someone in my Women for Tri online community recently posted:  Mother Nature must never have trained for a triathlon.  So many of us have been stuck training indoors this winter and early spring.  Finally, with a forecast for near 70 degree temperatures on Saturday, and after 2 months of being restricted to riding my Tri Bike on the trainer, I declared this is the day I’m going to do my inaugural ride on my birthday present.  Here’s how it went:

I feel like a kid just learning to ride a bike again.  I am excited and nervous at the same time.  As I’m getting ready, I hear the WPLJ radio DJ Jayde honor her mom the first award for Women Who Roar – she just turned 60 and is getting ready for her first triathlon in Miami after being inspired by the “Iron Nun”, Sister Madonna Buder, who holds the record for being the oldest person (of men and women!) to finish an Ironman at age 82.   I think back to my previous post how Katy Perry’s song roar provided the inspiration during my first Olympic distance race:  http://swimbikerunsurvive.blogspot.com/2014/10/westchester-olympic-triathlon-eye-of.html .  I am inspired to get out there and ROAR!

I make my husband, Mike, put the bikes on the car and drive a mile to a dead end flat street where I can practice first.  The landscapers have blown debris all over the road so after a brief ride, I say the hell with it and just go on the intended route, a recently paved, wide road with rolling hills where I intend to do 2-3 loops. 

First Loop:  I’m wobbly getting down and up in the aero bars.  I’m not sure I can balance right shifting unless I’m in the aero bars.  My husband, out on his tri bike for the first time this season, admits the first ride out for the season always reminds him it’s different than a road bike.  I’m cautious going down the hills, wanting to stay up right and on the brakes.  But phew, I did it without crashing.

Second loop:  I’m getting the hang of this!  I’m still a little cautious on these downhills but I have the feel getting up and down in aero and shifting in either position.  I stay in aero more.  And is it in my mind but this road, which I’ve ridden many times on my road bike, seems easier.  Is it the bike?  Is it all of the winter interval TriDot training?  Probably both.

Third loop:  I see Mike, and he’s surprised I want to do a 3^rd loop.  I stay aero the whole time!!

I finish.  I feel like a kid again who has just learned to ride a bike for the first time, just like my Tri friend Stephanie’s 8 year old daughter Jos was doing at the same time.  Stephanie who promised her a new bike for her birthday if she learned to ride her current bike, says, “guess like all us, new gear inspires!”

Jos goes from wobbly to ROARING!

Jos gets a new birthday present!

Whether we are 8, 50, 60 or 82 we can keep learning new skills and finding our personal best.  And we can keep ROARING!