Number 51

Bib # 51

I checked NASports yesterday and I have my bib #. I was expecting something in the 2000's, so the double-digit number threw me for a loop. Turns out that 51 is the first number outside of the pro field. (1-50 reserved for the elite athletes) Hopefully nobody will see my number, think I should be cruising the course in a 9-10 hour pace with the pros, and feel sorry for me because I am obviously not going to win any money.

Getting the number makes everything more real. As I watch the leaves start to fall from the trees and the nights turn cool, it hits me how much I have prepared for this event. I don't know where summer went. I only remember summer as experienced from the saddle of my bike or the soles of my running shoes, and in those moments I thought summer would last forever. From May until now, being outdoors was a playground for my training but not a playground for leisure. I have absolutely no complaints about that. This summer will be remembered by the adventures in Wisconsin farm country with routes I know by heart; farmhouses, cows, and pigs that marked my way; smells and sounds that sparked my curiousity and soothed my soul; and the feeling that something bigger was in store for me. Sure, I missed the cold beer and sunsets at the Union Terrace, hanging out with friends around a hot grill, softball & kickball leagues, and camping, but I wouldn't trade this journey in this year for anything else.

If you're out on the course next weekend, 51 seems like an easy number to cheer for. It's ok if you say 5-1. Or fifty-one. You can call me IronMin. Or Mindee. You don't even have to cheer at all really, because so many of you have been there for me throughout the journey: reading my blog, sending supportive emails, adding motivational comments. I can't tell you how much I appreciate all of the advice and friendship. You've pulled me up when I was down, celebrated my little victories with me, and walked beside me the rest of the way.

So this is #51 reporting for race week next week. Let's get this party started!

The truth about taper

At least according to me and substantiated by a few other Ironman newbies I've heard from...

1. Everything starts to hurt. Everything. Not all at once, but in a natural progression so you get a new crisis to fixate on everyday. Things you didn't know could hurt, start to hurt. Today it's my left knee and a butt muscle. I'll be honest, I don't mind the butt muscle cramp so much - I'm actually pleasantly surprised that all of this training has actually done something to the "back 40". The other aches and pains are random, and fortunately not serious. Yesterday it was right knee. Two days ago it was my neck. These are all fun to complain about to your work friends who are now convinced you are completely falling apart and the rumors about your mental illness are all true.

2. Even though everything hurts, you are petrified to take any drugs for any reason. It's too close to race day. Changing anything, introducing anything new now could literally cause the world to come to an end. Even extra doses of vitamin C are met with suspicion...which brings me to #3 -

3. Your body actually says "Sweet! We're resting now? I guess I'll let that summer cold creep in then. I'm too busy repairing muscles to fight with that thing." Commence scratchy throat, watery eyes, and the growing pit in your stomach that simultaneously counts down the number of days to IM and compares it to the number of days in the average cold. This opens the door for vitamin C and other home remedies. So far, the worst has been kept at arm's length.

4. The IM Athlete Guide has become nightly bedside reading. I've never read anything so closely before in my life. For fun, I also spell-checked it and corrected grammar. Clearly I have time on my hands. My biggest question remaining is: What is a Thump? Do I have one and I don't know it? I assume it's an alternate iPod device, but this is 2008 - doesn't everyone own an iPod by now?

5. Sleep = dreams. Dreams about bodymarking, lake weeds, wind on the bike course, cowbells, packing special needs bags, my family coming into town, etc. Sometimes I dream while I am awake. In my latest dream I got stuck in a group of fast swimmers and couldn't turn to start the second loop, so I was trapped all the way to the exit from the water and came out with a 2.4 mile swim time of 40 minutes. My family and friends cheered like crazy until I got DQ'ed.

6. Weather-Checking Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It's a real condition. I'm living proof. It's particularly fun to check the weather then run every possible clothing/gear/pace scenario relative to that prediction. Just like a cheap shampoo - rinse and repeat - close your web browser and repeat every day. It's ok to even do it a couple of times a day. It's not ok to refresh the same page multiple times an hour.

Gulp...9 Days!

Good morning - all around

Day 2 of Desensitivity Training in Lake Monona went surprisingly well. When I arrived at Law Park to prepare for the swim, it was still dark. Sunrise is at 6:16AM now (Seriously, where did summer go? Daylight just keeps slipping away!) so when I started putting on my wetsuit I prayed it would get light quickly. I'm not about to swim in that lake in the dark. Not that it matters as far as visibility in the water goes, but it's just a huge mental hurdle and frankly, my mental Olympics have a full docket already.

It started lightening up, and I was so happy to see about 6 other swimmers prepping, including my friend Valencia. Seeing her there made me feel like the lake wasn't so unfamiliar. A friendly face can change your point of view.

I waded in and the water was warm again. This also aids in trying to like the lake. Cold water doesn't make me think a lake is welcoming and friendly. Warm water says, "Come on in...the water's fine!"

Getting away from shore (as well as heading back in) are the worst 2 parts of the swim due to the weeds. I had them around my arms and ankles again, one around my neck, and one across my goggles. I popped up, saw the other heads and arms and legs swimming along, and told myself to deal with it. It worked.

Jessica, the swim coach, asked me a few times if I was doing better vs. yesterday. That helped keep me calm too - because it made me realize I was doing ok. We sighted on a bridge to the far side of Monona Terrace and as we passed the Terrace where friends & family will be wildly cheering in 2 weeks, the sun began to rise. It was shaping up to be a good swim and a beautiful morning.

Then I swallowed a bunch of water and choked for a minute. That's Lake Monona keeping me humble and reminding me to focus. Believe me, I got the message loud and clear.

Overall we covered about a mile according to Jessica, and it felt ok. I won't be leaping out of the 2.4 mile swim thinking it was the easiest thing I've ever done, but I do feel more relaxed about getting in there and getting it done.

Now if I could just tell the other 2,000 athletes on race morning to please not kick or hit me when I'm out there...

Awwww forget it.

Control what you can control, and let the rest go!

Lake Monona Made Me Cry

It sounds like a great start to a pretty awful country song.

I went for the open water swim in Lake Monona tonight because it was FINALLY held in Lake Monona. Between blue-green algae, sewage back-ups, and (this is very sad) dead bodies, the lake has not been a great place to be this summer.

With 2 weeks left I figured I needed to get used to the darn thing and make sure I'm mentally prepared. Here's the short answer if you're pressed for time: I'm not.

This whole week & next, I will be working on 2 things:

1) Forcing the knowledge out of my mind that there is still a body in the lake that has not been recovered and,
2) Convincing myself that the likelihood that I will be the one to find it is extremely slim.

Oh yes - and 1 more thing:

3) I will not drown during the IM swim.

I love swimming in lakes. It's always freaky when you can't see the bottom, but it's nature and I like the vastness of a lake. Lake Monona is a different beasty altogether. It's powerful and it has a history of swallowing people. I know other lakes do too, but I usually don't know about their sordid pasts before I dip my toe in. In this particular case - I know too much. Knowledge is not always power. Sometimes knowledge can be crippling.

It also has crazy weeds growing up from the unseeable bottom that wrap around your ankles and arms.

Lucky for me, open water swim meets 4x this week and next so I have some time to conquer my irrational fear and get my swim on. I go again tomorrow morning at 6am. I'm calling this "Desensitivity Training". It's a multi-step program for people afraid of things. For example, if you're afraid of spiders, in step 1 you just look at the spider in a book. Step 2 you see the spider across the room. Step 3 you get closer. Etc, etc. until you are holding the spider in your hand like it's your long lost pet.

Step 1 in Lake Monona took 15 minutes. I would say I freaked out for about 12 minutes of that.

I'll keep you posted on step 2, but I'm kind of hoping I can at least stay in the water for 45 minutes and only freak out for about 30 minutes of it.

More to come...

Panic Attack

The big day is 2 weeks away and in addition to my nearly obsessive-compulsive weather checking routine, I have come across a new mental trainwreck to add to the list.

Panic.

It comes on suddenly, but it's like clockwork when someone exclaims something to the effect of:

"OMG - IronMan is only 2 weeks away!"

Which I hear as:

"YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR RACE PLAN DONE. YOU DON'T KNOW FOR SURE WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO WEAR. YOU ARE NOT MENTALLY PREPARED FOR THIS. "

Mostly true, but not the end of the world. I checked the Ironman Wisconsin website to see if anything new had been posted out there, and I panicked again.

I don't know why I'm feeling this way. Nervous energy? The enormity of the task I am about to undertake?

The aftermath of the past few tough and unsatisfying bike workouts?

I hate worrying and feeling nervous because I think it is such an energy suck. If we took all of the energy we use for those useless feelings and apply them in a productive direction we could change the world. Or at the very least, we could totally kick some butt in our own lives.

As part of my race plan, I will be making a list of action - reaction tasks. I am going to try to list all of the things that could go wrong, and what I plan to do about them. This may help the panic subside. I'm willing to try it - so far, deep breathing hasn't helped. Closing the ironmanwisconsin.com site did help, but that's not exactly facing my fear. It's just avoiding it.

I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one a bit preoccupied with the ticking clock. The mood on the IM bike course has changed. It's subtle. Perhaps something only someone who has spent practically every weekend on it for the past 4 months would notice.

Less waving. Less smiling. More focus. Strained faces. Tired bodies. Cyclists doing a dance they know so well they could do it in their sleep. Cadence. Food. Water. Go aero. Sit up. Food. Water. Push. Coast. Smooth. Solid. No time to be jovial. The novelty has worn off. This is all business. And we are all trying to get it done.

This final push is full of emotion for me. I'm preoccupied with the race, the events leading up to it, and the days behind it. I knew I would get to this point. It's similar to planning a wedding (at least for me). You put a full year into the planning and preparation...and it all comes down to one day. You hope it goes well. You hope your detailed plan will come together in a way that ends in celebration. You know you can't control the weather and you know things will come up during the day that you don't expect, but you've spent so much time thinking through your vision of the day, you feel somewhat prepared.

But still just a little panicked.

Time on my hands

Signs I may actually be starting to enter taper phase:

• Every single piece of swim/bike/run clothing is in the laundry pile.  Last night on the trainer I actually had to wear the 1 piece tri-suit.  And seriously - at what point will I look good in one of those?  18 hour weeks is still not enough.
• After practically crawling home from work today, I fell into bed to just "rest my eyes for a minute" and woke up and hour and a half later feeling like I had been run over by a truck.
• My dogs are confused about my growing presence in the house.  I think I heard one mumble to the other, "Is she sick or something?  What should we do?  We can't get a moment's peace around here now"
• Even though I know it is completely pointless, I scan the online weather sites for any hint of what the weather will bring us on September 7.  
• Parts of life are falling into one of two camps: BI (before Ironman) and AI (after Ironman).  For example, at work "Yes, that offsite meeting is scheduled for after the Ironman."  Regrettably, I seem to be the only one who really views the next month this way.
• I have been dreaming about the race.  And so far, no nightmares!

This morning for swim class I was the only one who showed up.  It was strange to have the entire pool to myself, but absolutely serene too.  Unfortunately the swim coach had only me to sit and watch, which must have been pretty boring for her.  The coolest part of owning the pool manifested itself when I completed a set.  During laps the pool filled with waves and my splashes...as soon as I stopped it was like glass again.  It erased all signs I was there.  

I was talking to Mr. IronMin this weekend and we both agreed having our very own pool would be a ton of fun.  I don't ever expect to be "rich" and I try not to worry about material things (the big house, the fancy car, the designer duds), but every now and then I will think about something I could really be excited about if I were rich enough to afford it.  I've decided on an indoor/outdoor pool - the ceiling can be one of those sliding roofs like Miller Park (Milwaukee Brewers).  When it's sunny & beautiful, we can open the roof and hang out poolside.

Maybe after Ironman I can devote my time to figuring out how to build the dream pool.

Taper Time

Let the taper begin!  

It's getting kind of crazy around here.  I feel like I have a lot of details to finalize in the next 3 weeks.  My family is coming to cheer me on, so I'm thinking about how to get them here, where they'll sleep, and how to set up their day to make it both enjoyable & manageable.  

I'm starting to think about my race plan, which I plan to write this week.

I'm focusing on my gear - Mr. IronMin gave my bike a tune-up and cleaned it so well it sparkles!  I'm thinking about goggles and bike shorts and nutrition....etc etc etc

The Olympics couldn't be here at a better time for me.  Watching the athletes perform is extremely motivational.  Just when I feel tired and worn out, I sit down and watch dreams come true.  That kind of a singular focus culminating in amazing achievement...it makes my IM goal seem attainable.  

It's a 14 hour week, which is a little drop from last week's 18 hours.  I'm also swimming in Lake Monona this week, and I'll offer up reports of water quality and temperature - and hopefully not get the ick.  

Drop it like it's hot

In the never-ending quest for that "I'm Ready!" for Ironman feeling, I've heard quite a few theories on how you'll know your fitness is there on the bike. For example:

1) If you can ride 3 loops of the course (vs. the 2 required on race day) - you're ready

2) If you can ride 1 loop backward - you're ready

3) If you can do the Horribly Hilly Hundreds - you're ready

I missed the chance to register for #3. #1 sounds like a long, painful day in the saddle. I don't like seeing the 4 bitches of Ironman twice, let alone a third time. I think 3 loops just might make my head explode.

So yesterday I embarked on #2. I rode the Ironman loop backward. And honestly, I don't see what all the fuss is about. In fact, I think I am going to pen a letter to NA Sports today letting them know they should reverse the bike course. Clearly they took a look at the loop in both directions and decided on the hardest path with the most inclines and least descents.

It wasn't as easy as I make it sound but it did seem easier than the usual way. I'm not counting the one climb that I usually descend at 36-38mph. On that one climb alone my heartrate shot up into zone 17. Maybe it felt easier because it was a change of scenery. In the opposite direction I saw houses, farms, and landmarks I have never seen before. It was almost like a brand new route.

I went in the afternoon because as part of my recovery week, I nearly abandoned the early morning wake-up call. I didn't set the alarm on Saturday, putzed around in the morning, and FINALLY got on the bike at 2:30pm. The sun was scorching hot, but the wind kept me cool. The car traffic in the late afternoon was just annoying. It was a pain to wait at stop signs & lights for so long.

Even though the LBS assures me there is nothing wrong with my shifting, I managed to drop my chain 3 TIMES on the ride. I simply cannot understand how I can go an entire year without dropping it ONCE, but suddenly I'm dropping it like it's hot every 15 miles. By the 3rd time I released a slew of words not fit for public consumption. My greasy, dirty hands got my white bar tape marked up, which almost makes me more angry than the repeated "get off the bike, put the chain back on" routine. I will either march my self back into the LBS this week for a check-up or pick a new one to visit because when I'm racing the cut-off time for the bike in a month, I don't need to be stopping to make chain adjustments. I have enough to do with all of the eating/drinking/salt tab swallowing/singing to myself I currently have on the agenda.

I took some pictures of the loop, in a futile attempt to make this post more fun.

Wisconsin Farmland

I love this mailbox. It's at the top of the 4th climb, and it makes me say crazy things like "Oooh, that mailbox is soooo fast." Hey - you come up with something better when you've been on the bike for a gazillion hours.

You know how sometimes they look steeper than they really are? Well this one felt steeper than it looks.

It never rained on me, although it didn't look so great for awhile.

1 Month

In exactly 1 month I will be floating in Lake Monona, looking up at the sky, and Mike Reilly will ask me and a lot of others if we are going to be Ironman today.

I will answer "Yes, I do believe I will."

And I will swim my best swim. Then bike my best bike. Then run my best run. None of the 3 will be considered the best in my age group. But all 3 will be the best I can do on that day at that time. It will be my own best race.

I don't want to spend too much time thinking about how quickly the date has approached, but let me tell you this - Damn, that went by fast! It's been almost a year since I decided to do this. Almost a year since I started training.

When I signed up, I thought I had lots of time to train. Suddenly, the "end" is near. Part of me wishes for more time. Part of me wants to get.to.the.start.line.already.

1 month from today, at this hour, I will be either done & celebrating, or almost done & searching for the finish line. I won't allow myself to consider the third option. I've worked too hard to believe the third option will manifest itself on race day. They say that if you believe you can, you can. If you don't, you won't. I admit I have a lot of lingering questions about the day in my mind, like "Will I wake up feeling good? Will I make the bike cut-off? Will I be able to push past the pain on the run? Can I hold my nutrition together? Can I finish before midnight?"

But I also know in my heart that I won't quit on that day unless I absolutely, positively have to. If my body gives out or my mind completely breaks down - maybe. Otherwise, even if it takes 16:59, I'm marching toward that finish line. It's taken me a year to get to the start. I can manage the last 17 hours to get to the finish.

I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.

Is this the homestretch?

Today I'm thinking about the word "optional". Workouts on my plan are sometimes optional. As in, swim with an optional 30 minute bike. Or during this week, recovery - workouts can be shortened or optioned out if rest needs to take the front seat.

I struggle quite a bit with optional. Sure, in some cases it's a no-brainer. If someone is having a birthday party and gifts are optional, I choose to bring a gift. If a meeting at work is optional, I generally skip it to get stuff done at my desk.

Clothing optional? I would probably pick clothes, depending on the nature of the event. Let's face it, if an event indicates clothing is up to you it's worth taking a moment or two to make the right decision.

Black-tie optional? Not really a concern for me.

Workout optional? Hello Moral Dilemma. Should I or shouldn't I? Can I fit it in or can I find some lame excuse why I can't? If I do find the "perfect" excuse, later I feel guilty. When all is said and done, it seems the easier path is just to do it and get it over with.

This week I think I have hit the proverbial wall and my optional workouts are suffering as a result. I've been talking with others who are training for IMWI and it seems we are all in the same boat. Tired. Drained. Wanting September 7th to be here now so we can avoid another weekend of endless bike followed by endless run.

At the same time, I have never felt better. My body is stronger than it has ever been in my life. On my run Sunday when I passed a store window and caught my reflection, I'm pretty sure I saw some definition in my legs that has never been there before.

I don't weigh less. I don't think I look different, although some people have told me I do. But I do feel good. Solid, strong, and ready to push it to the next level.

So I'm letting myself off the hook for exercising my options this week. I'm still working the plan, but I'm taking it pretty easy. I'm taking the guilt and rolling it over into the next phase of training. I know I have a month left. I know there will be more time on the bike, on the run, in the water. I also know a few days of rest this week are exactly what I need physically and mentally to head into the final push. I just can't believe I'm actually in the homestretch.

Heat Miser

This weekend started with an 8 hour ride, with a side dish of heat exhaustion. Frankly I would've preferred a side of easy 15 mph, or maybe even a side of crushed PR. Let's just say I grossly underestimated the heat index of like 7 gazillion.

I pulled off 109 miles in total, but after mile 60 it was pretty much a crap shoot. I knew I couldn't quit since the bike was my only way home, but I also wasn't sure I would be arriving upright. I was following my usual drinking and eating schedule but suddenly it didn't seem to be working. Once I started feeling bad, I was enormously thirsty but not at all interested in my gels/bars. I continued to force myself to eat and borrowed a lot of ice from the Kwik Trip to help cool down my body temperature. I heart Kwik Trip. Someday I will head back to that one in Mt Horeb and buy a tank of gas or one of those incredible donuts always calling my name when I make a pit stop. I owe them at least 1 solid purchase since I'm in there a few times every weekend filling water bottles with ice.

When the ice didn't seem to be doing the trick, the bike and I reached an agreement. It would get me home in one piece, and I would leave it alone for the rest of the weekend. I'm pretty sure I came out on the better end of that deal because honestly - I didn't really want to spend any more time with my bike this weekend. I didn't miss it one bit.

As soon as I got home, I had 10 minutes to shower, grab the dogs, and head out the door to drop them off at the kennel before hopping a plane to Michigan for my friend Dana's wedding and a first visit with my new niece Taylor. It was a rough hour with a pounding head and shaking limbs but once I got on the plane, things were looking up. The lady next to me guarded her Diet Pepsi as she watched me double-fisting Mountain Dew and water. I felt her inch closer to the window to stay out of my reach. And I didn't care. If she so much as closed her eyes in a quick nap, that soda was MINE.

The weekend was exactly what I needed. Lots of family time and catching up with old friends. The wedding was beautiful, as was my new niece.

And somewhere in there, I also squeezed in a 3 hour run. I managed 15 miles even though I was shooting for 18, but I still felt good about it. More than anything, I couldn't believe how not hard it was. Don't get me wrong - it wasn't easy. But it never got to that unbearable I-can't-possibly-go-another-step point. Overall, the run went WAY better than the bike, so I figure it's even-stevens on the training front. Tit for tat. 6 of one, half a dozen of another. You get it...one good workout completely cancels one bad one.

When I finished the run, my brother-in-law had a plate of breakfast (eggs, sausage, toast) & hot coffee waiting for me. The best post-run meal ever! That plus a boatload of chocolate milk.

So today marks the first day of a single digit week. As in, less than 10 hours of training.

It's practically a vacation week.

It's ok to be jealous. I understand.