Ride to Conquer Cancer

While there have been many breakthroughs in research for treatment, prevention and cure, stats say that one in three Canadians will develop cancer in their lifetime. A full one-third of us will hear those terrifying words - "You have cancer". So it was with hope of playing a small, small, infintesimal part in the monumental task of conquering cancer that I joined 2000 riders on a two-day journey from Vancouver (well, Surrey) to Seattle (actually Redmond) to raise awareness and funds for the BC Cancer Agency.

The ride itself is symbolic. There were words and themes repeated during the course of the weekend - Hope. Courage. Loss. Inspiration. The 250 kilometres covered over the course of the two days were not supposed to be easy. It was meant to be a challenge and a testament to the human spirit.

The gravity of the event struck me before I even started pedaling on Saturday morning. Arriving in Surrey at 6am on Saturday morning, there were literally thousands upon thousands of people out to show their support. Riders, survivors, volunteers, support crew, families. It was amazing to see the turnout, and even more astonishing to hear that amongst this crowd, over $9.2 million was raised. The opening ceremonies had me in tears - it was a memorial for all those who lost their battles, a celebration of life for those that had survived theirs and a call to action that future generations benefit from the funds raised.

Day 1: Surrey to Mount Vernon, WA - 129km

Word of the day: EPIC.

At 7:15am, we clipped in and began our journey. I have never experienced such chaos on a bike! Utmost care was required during the first few kilometres to stay clear of other riders. It is here that I will express my only non-weather related criticism of the event - for the first 30km to the border, the lead vehicles held the riders back at a top speed of 30kph including downhill. Whatever the organizers were trying to accomplish had the opposite effect - it was a dangerous, chaotic, unsafe log-jam of riders. The faster riders had nowhere to go and as the masses swelled into the back of the lead vehicles, you were forced to swerve and ride your brakes just to stay off the crowd. Bad, bad situation.

The border crossing, as a result, was total chaos but I managed to cross fairly quickly. Once clear of the pack of riders, I skipped through the first Pit Stop at Blaine Middle School and opened up along the coast. The first section -winding down along the coast- was scenic and fast. I realized that I was going a little hard, but didn't really care. It just felt good to be moving.

The weather turned out to be glorious, sunny and warm, but with a fairly substantial south headwind. I had decided to take Ora out for the ride - although she was not ideal for riding in the masses at the beginning, she was perfect for the long straight stretches through the countryside. I deliberately stayed out of the draft of the pelotons and just enjoyed being down in the aerobars. A group of about 15 riders caught me on the north side of Bellingham and I noticed that my brother-in-law Mark was part of the group, so I latched on for a short section through town, feeling that it was safer to be part of the group. After a quick break around 87km, the most challenging (but beautiful) section of road began past Padden Park and around Lake Samish, followed by a final uninspired section of straights (complete with headwind and rough pavement) into Mount Vernon.

We rolled into the Mount Vernon camp around 12:30pm to find that there were only about 20 bikes racked....where was everyone?!! It was pretty cute when a couple of the volunteers and spectators took my picture because I was the first female rider across the line. However, they thought I had completely lost my marbles when I quickly changed and headed out for a short 5k brick run :)

Had a great little run, then back to camp for a massage and shower. There was no wait for the massage (woo-hoo!!!) and the shower facilities totally rocked - after a warm shower, a blow dry (lux camping!!!) and some snacks, I felt recharged and ready to....um....sit around and do nothing! We spent the afternoon savoring regional delicacies....aka Rainier Beer and smokies, but honestly by around 6pm I was ready to call it a day :)

The tent city was quite something to behold. There were rows upon rows of little blue tents and the facilities in general seemed to be sufficient to hold the 2000 riders and support crew. There were never really any substantive line-ups and the services were quite adequate, although I must say that I was quite thankful that it was dry, sunny and warm.

Day 1 GPS stats:

Ride: 132.87km in 4:30:43; total time 5:16:55; Avg speed 28.7kph.

Run: 5.18km in 23:32; Pace 4:32 min/km.

Day 2: Mount Vernon to Redmond, WA - 119km

Word of the day: SOGGY.

My tentmate thankfully woke me around 5:15am. After peeling my sore back off the thermarest (I am apparently not as young as I once was....sleeping on the ground did me no favors), I quickly headed out for breakfast. I knew I needed to move quickly to avoid the crowds. Sure enough, we had just enough time to eat, pack up and get the bikes ready before the masses overran the camp. When the ride started at 7:15am there were still hundreds left in the camp lined up for breakfast and packing up.

Quite the opposite of the previous day, Day 2 brought us fog, mist and a bit of chill. Even though the headwind was gone, it was a soggy, cold ride.

Heading south towards Lake Stevens and Snohomish, the route was scenic albeit more technical than the previous day. There were a number of obstacles made worse by the marginal conditions - about a dozen railway crossings, a treacherous downhill wooden bridge and substantive mileage spent on narrow paved bike paths with regular stops for gates and turnouts. As a result, the average speed dropped quite substantially and caution was the word of the day. I saw three wipeouts first-hand, and judging from some of the bumps and bruises at the finish, suspect that there were quite a few accidents on Day 2.

At the Lake Stevens "lunch" stop (I think it was only 10:30am!), I was getting chilly and decided to skip any further breaks. I only had a thin shell and knew that if I did not keep moving that hypothermia would set in very quickly. I rode pretty much the entire way on my own - thankfully the route was extremely well-marked. The section through Snohomish was fairly hilly and it was here that I decided to take off my rain shell because the sky was brightening up and it had started to warm up. Of course, murphy's law, the deluge set in about 10 minutes later and I was forced to slog the last 30km in downpour without a rain jacket on. I knew that if I stopped I would get too cold, so just moved on as fast as the conditions would bear.....VERY eager to be finished.

I arrived at the finish line just after noon - very soggy and very happy to be finished. There were only about 15 bikes when I arrived and I felt very, very sorry for anyone who was still out in the deluge. The dreary weather unfortunately cast a little pallor on the finish line - what should have been a celebration was a dash for dry clothes and shelter!

Day 2 GPS stats:

Ride: 118.05km in 4:02:14; total time 4:39:14; Avg speed 29.2kph.

The synopsis? An extremely well-organized event and a worthy cause. My team members, sponsored by Fairmont Hotels and Maple Leaf Foods, raised $53,760 and a total of $9.2 million was raised by the BC riders.

Moreover, it was a worthwhile and inspiring experience. I rode alongside survivors, marked by their yellow flags, whose will to live was so infectious and inspiring. I also rode alongside so many who had lost loved ones - children, parents, spouses, friends - a heartwrenching reminder of why cancer research is so important.

And I wore sunscreen, even in the rain.

Thanks, guys!

My tri shop, Speed Theory,has updated their website. It's great - with links to product websites, information on stuff going on at the shop and details on races and events the peeps are participating in.

I'm also totally flattered that they've put a link to my blog on their site! Thanks!! You guys rock....but you knew that already :)

Oliver half-iron race report

As part of the lead-up to IMC, I have signed up for two half-distance races - the Oliver half and Subaru Vancouver (in July). I had mixed feelings going to Oliver this weekend - I had not trained specifically for this race, it was just part of the comprehensive IMC training plan. At the same time, I have never trained so much in my life so by all standards was probably as ready for a half-iron as I ever would be....that is to say, assuming that one is ever really ready to swim 2k, bike 93k and then run a half marathon :)

The day before the race was not ideal pre-race prep - it felt rushed, un-relaxed and chaotic. The night before the race was even worse - I had a lot of trouble sleeping and only managed to nod off around 2am...which meant a mere 2hrs 45 of sleep before the longest distance triathlon I have ever done.

Race morning turned out perfect weather-wise. It was warm, yet overcast and although rain threatened, it never appeared. I arrived at transition around 6:15am, which gave me just over an hour to get my transition set up, change into my wetsuit and head over to the swim start. It ended up feeling a little rushed, note to self to leave more time.

Following the men's wave start at 7:30am, I took my place with the women at the edge of the lake. My experience with open water starts has been mixed and even with the amount of swimming I have done this year, I was nervous about the swim and did not want to overestimate my abilities. My plan was to find my pace and keep it nice and easy.

That plan lasted exactly 200m.

As expected, the start was a clawing, splashing mess. Totally unexpected, I was kicked HARD in the abdomen. Involuntarily, I righted myself in the water, started hyperventilating and threw up a little. Yes, I puked. How gross is that?? So much for calm. I flipped onto my back and started panicking....it was awful. Tears in my eyes, I flipped over and breaststroked through the melee, trying to get the courage up to put my face under the water.

At this point I was being passed by everyone like a lame fish in the school. I was breathing hard, heart racing and tears welled in my eyes. This was crazy. I can't swim. I can't even breathe. I was sweating in my wetsuit, making my goggles fog with tears and just wanted to get out. NOW. It took every ounce of will not to swim over to the rescue zodiac that was so conveniently located about 25m away.

A few more kicks on my back. Wait a minute, did I really work this hard to give up now? Could I salvage something out of this start? Could I calm down, put my face in the water and start moving forward again?

I moved out of the masses and into calmer water to the far left, breathed deep and started slowly swimming towards the next buoy. It felt like 15 minutes had passed and I was only at the second buoy. No matter, I would just breathe easy and move forward. Left, right, breathe, repeat. I tried to forget where I was and lose myself in the monotony. Left, right, breathe. After what felt like an eternity, I reached the 800m buoy, my first turn. Around the buoy. Left, right, breathe. I started sighting every fifth breath and was quite surprised to find that I was actually tracking straight. Small victory. Left, right, breathe. Just before the next turn, I saw a blue cap...a male swimmer. I had caught someone. Another small victory.

After rounding the 1500m buoy, I found a little more courage and picked up my pace. I was almost in. I would forget what the clock would tell me, shake it off and get on with my race. As I looked up exiting the water, the clock said 48 minutes. Subtract 10 for my wave and I was out in 38 minutes. Not good, but I had survived the swim. Wetsuit yanked off, I hobbled down the looooong transition area to my bike.

I was still a bit upset by the time I reached my bike and decided to take my time in T2. There would be no more crying today. Breathe, relax, get ready to ride.

When I started pedaling away, I immediately noticed something wrong with my rear brake. It was dragging on the rim of my tire and as hard as I pedaled, it just fought with me. Drag, drag, drag, drag. I couldn't believe it. From one thing to the next. I tried adjusting the brake, but realized that I was just going to cause an accident if I did so, so ended up pulling over at the junction of Hwy 97 and Tucelnuit Drive, about 10k into the ride. Got off the bike and adjusted the brake. Aaaaaah. Pedaling has never felt so easy as it did then.

After these two upsetting setbacks, I was unamused. Instead of giving up, though, I took control. I started passing people on Tucelnuit, one after the other. Stayed in my aerobars, kept my cadence quick, and fixated on enjoying the gorgeous course along Black Sage Road. I rode consistently but not out of my comfort zone, and when I noticed that my average pace was just over 34kph, decided to keep it up. I was passing more riders than were passing me and felt great (in all, the stats tell me that I passed 116 riders on the bike). After having such an awful swim and losing so much confidence in my bike during the previous two weeks it was uplifting to feel like I was doing something well.

At the intersection of Hwy 97 my tubes ejected from the back cage when I bumped over the cattle guard. Had to get off my bike again, run down the hill, pick up the tubes, run back up the hill and get back on the bike. Damn!!! At this point, I resigned myself to the fact that the stars were simply not aligned for me. This was a training race after all, and lessons are there to be learned.

The next lesson I would learn would be about hydration. My new speedfil made it easy for me to drink on the fly, and I made sure that I ate my GU chomps and gels on regular intervals whether I felt like it or not. I thought that I was drinking lots, but to my chagrin, realized upon racking my bike that I had only drank half of my water. That meant I had a mere 500mL of fluid over 3 1/2 hours of activity.

Bike to run transition went smooth, I stopped for a quick potty stop, and headed off on the run. I knew that with so little fluid in me that I would fade fast in the heat of the day - it was probably about 18 degrees at this point - and made a concerted effort to stop at each and every water station. I made a wonderful discovery - flat cola is gooood stuff. Down went a half glass of cola and a couple sips of water at each water station.

My pace for the first 10k was decent - about 4:45/km, but as I expected with the lack of hydration, fatigue quickly set in. My long-shot goal run time was 1:39, and I abandoned this quickly, instead shooting for my realistic goal run time of 1:45. It wasn't a stellar run for me - actually just plain slow in my books - but it was a consistent effort.

I had two thoughts as I crossed the finish line. Damn, that was harder than I thought. Double damn, how am I going to go TWICE that distance in less than three months?!

Not a perfect race by any standards but I finished 70.3 in one piece and am proud that I hung in there. My synopsis of the day:

1. Totally pooched the swim. Open water survival techniques need vast improvement.

2. Rocked the bike. Ora, you are a good girl. I'm sorry I swore at you last week.

3. Survived the run. I can do better than just survive.

I have two and a half-months to learn, train and learn more before IMC. Four weeks to put it to the test at the Subaru Vancouver. Wish me luck! :)

Thanks to Coach Calvin, everyone at Speed Theory and all the peeps at PSTC for getting me this far....we're having fun now right!?


Finish: 5:12:42
Swim: 38:06
T1:5:34
Bike: 2:41:52 (34.5 kph)
T2: 1:42
Run: 1:45:31

Overall: 142/971
Women: 27/444
Category: 6/77

This tri stuff is FUN!!

Did the UBC Olympic distance tri today - 1,500m pool swim; 40k bike; 10k run. Well, make that a 10.7k run, but who is really counting? :)

After a week of the weather forecasters calling for rain, it turned out to be a glorious, perfect day for a race. Warm, not too windy and a little overcast to keep the sun off. I even enjoyed the little gusts of wind on the run since they were keeping me cool!

My pre-race regimen was a little lacking - realistically this race was intended to be a long training day rather than a key race - but due to the arrival of summer weather on Thursday I was feeling more like enjoying the preceding days and not a lot like taking anything too seriously. Saturday was spent doing a 120k ride with the PSTC group out to Boundary Bay, followed by a long walk (9k) out along the beaches with Bogey, then some patio time at the Galley at Jericho Sailing Club....which meant a burger, fries and ice cream. Good pre-race nutrition, right!? So, quite deservedly, I had an awful sleep last night and woke up with a headache!

Luckily, my heat time was 12:05 and left me plenty of time to leisurely collect my things and head to the transition area around 10:30am. This would be my first "pool" tri and only my third tri ever, so I wanted to go suss everything out in advance.

The twenty or so people assigned to heat 1f gathered on the pool deck just before noon, and I was happy to have a couple people from my tri group in my heat. It was nice to joke around and relax a little instead of stressing about the race - case in point, when asked if we had any questions, one of the guys pipes up....are there any sharks? It kept the mood light :)

Unlike the chaotic open water swims I had experienced before, the pool swim was quite civilized, with swimmers self-seeding and being released in 10 second intervals. Up and down the pool for 800m, get out of the pool and repeat another 700m, then a long run out of the pool and into T2. My swim went fairly well, seeing as I am a swim newbie and still rather uncomfortable in the water. I even managed to pass 5 people and was only passed once. Swim still needs work, but much better than before. Didn't wear a watch in the water to remove the pressure, so just hopped out and into T2 without concerning myself about time.

T1 went pretty well, apart from my bike mount which needs work. Still pretty scared of the "flying" mount and was pretty cautious. No garage sales needed. Once on the bike, I settled in and eased myself into the aerobars. This was only my 5th ride out on Ora and admittedly I am still a little (a lot) scared of her....but there is no time like the present to get used to it! A TT bike is perfect for the UBC course - 4 laps x 10k on SW Marine Drive - straight, mildly sloping and damned fast if you are motivated. I was a little shaken after being sideswiped with a gust of wind on the first turn, but managed to keep my laps relatively consistent. Nice and conservative, not pushing too hard. Ride time was about 1:10, avg speed of 33.4 km.


Coming into T2, I spun out my legs and started focusing on the run...which is really my strongest of all three disciplines and where I needed to do well. Drank the rest of my GU Brew, took a gel and thought about what I had to do. T2 was good, apart from my dismount (see above, needs work). The new elastic laces in my Brooks T6 racers were a snap to put on.

I tore out of T2 and managed to punch in a first kilometre 4:06. Nice, but not something I thought I would be able to hold. Dialed it down a little, kept my cadence high, slowed to around 4:20/km and just started coasting. It felt great to run. First 3k passed in no time and I was having a lot of fun, seeing people I knew, cheering on the other runners and enjoying the day. It wasn't until I hit 7k that I realized that I was actually holding my pace....which is really funny to me because last week at the Sun Run I was totally suffering at the same pace, here I was today just coasting along and enjoying life. The support on the course was great too - friends, other runners and volunteers were all so encouraging and positive!

When my watch beeped at 9k - 39:06, it signaled that it was time to give 'er....except that when 10k arrived, the finish line was nowhere in sight! Ugh! My GPS marked 10.7k when I reached the finish line - I was tired and a little disappointed. Had not planned to sprint for nearly 2k at the end. I also really wanted a 43 minute 10k (which I did have 43:28) and now my watch was showing a 46:35 10.71 km run. At least everyone had to run the same distance!


All in all, a very fun race and an encouraging start to the season. Final time was around 2:28, which I was very pleased with considering the extra 3 minutes or so for the run. Comparatively, my only other Olympic distance - the Vancouver triathlon last year - was 2:35. Yay! Training pays off!

As an added bonus, my time was good enough for 2nd overall and first in my age group. How fun is that?! Beginner's luck I think....and a thin women's field. :)

I really appreciate everyone that came to cheer (Hoz, Greg, Tav...you're awesome!). Thanks also to Calvin at Finish Line Coaching as well as the folks at Speed Theory (Doug, Jeremy, Nicole). You all rock!

Stats:

Finish time: 2:28:35
Overall 19/244
Female 2/??
Division 1/14
Swim (with T1) 29:13
Bike (with T2) 1:12:33
Run 46:50

Sunny run in Raincity

I've always found it amusing that Vancouver hosts the "Sun Run" of all things. Raincity, living up to its nickname, does not really offer up that many sunny spring days...typically we get more rain than rays chucked at us. Mind you, if organizers called it the "Slog your butt through 10k in the Rain", it probably wouldn't be the 2nd largest timed 10k road race in the world - I think only Bolder Boulder is bigger.

Speaking of which...Bolder Boulder is a great name for a race. It's really too bad that not much rhymes with Vancouver, apart from the obvious possibility of Manoeuvre Vancouver!? However, that does seem to be a fitting name if you were one of the 40,000 odd-participants crushed today into the start line on Georgia, doesn't it? :)

Notwithstanding my amusement at the ironic name, mother nature decided to fully cooperate and turned in a glorious, sunny day for Sun Run 2010. With fresh sunburns and tired legs from a 130k ride yesterday, I was not feeling terribly energetic as I herded myself into the starting corral with the masses. However, it was hard not to enjoy the carnival-like atmosphere and the fantastic sunshine. Race organizers could not have ordered up a more perfect day!

[Note to reader: I will preface the rest of this race report by stating upfront that I am a terrible 10k runner. "Wasted potential" would be a good description. The incremental pain and suffering that goes along with increasing my speed even for 3/4 of an hour is so awful....give me a half-marathon any day of the week. My rationale is that I simply lack that top gear that good 10k runners seem to possess at 9k when they start whizzing past me. I just have two speeds. Starting speed and everything after!]

The mass start was complete and utter chaos. Some observations about being packed like a sardine in the starting corral and for much of the first 2k of the race:

• There are definitely a few runners with hygiene issues. Is it too much to ask that you shower, say, sometime in the week leading up to the race?! If people are stepping away from you in the corral...you might think about why that is. Unless of course this is your strategy to get away from the start line chaos.


• The self-seeding system seems to have its flaws. Manoeuvre Vancouver indeed. I particularly love the walkers that start at the front, walk four abreast then seem aghast when the runners slam into the back of them. Oh, and the guy with the 6 year old child, walking. Good one. I put on the brakes pretty hard to get around your little girl...let's hope everyone else did too. Oh, and the pre-teens running 12 minute miles in crocs....

OK. Enough about that.

The best part of today, other than the sunshine, was that I completely stuck to my race plan. Seeing as I did not actually have a race plan, this was very easy to do and meant that things went very well indeed!

Fought the crowd most of the first 2k and just tried to keep as straight a line as possible. First 2k were just under 8:00, then dropped the pace to 4:15/km and kept moving along. The zeal of the crowd definitely diminished by the time we rounded into English Bay...those who should not have been in the starting corral were falling apart and by the time we reached Pacific, the crowd had thinned and I had lots of space to work with. It was nice to see some friendly faces cheering in this section!

It was warm, hot even, but I did notice a bit of a headwind as we started winding east. The nasty little uphill section up Hornby really sucked the wind out of me - my pace noticeably slowed here, heartrate shot up and a little nausea crept in. I held it together, somehow, knowing that the lovely downhill of the Burrard bridge was just in front of me, and picked it up on the way back down. I was halfway around 21 minutes, but knew the second half would be slower.

From 6k through 9k was maintenance - probably could have pushed a little harder, but just got into a comfort zone. I was pretty consistently passing people throughout the section on 6th Avenue and felt pretty decent. No need to bring back the nausea :)

Tried to pick it up at 9k over the Cambie, but as noted earlier, I just don't seem to possess that overdrive gear that so many other runners have. I felt like I was pushing, my legs and lungs were burning....yet runners were whizzing past me! The whizzing runners seemed to be predominately male - only one female runner passed me on Cambie so maybe this overdrive gear is a boy thing??

End result: a 27 second PR and a solid finish for some very tired bike legs. And to think that I need to put it all together in one day in just a week's time...yikes!

Oh, and if anyone wants to help me lobby for the name change...just let me know :)

The stats for Manoeuvre Vancouver 2010:

Finish time: 43:04

Overall: 746/39,855

Female: 93 /22,311 (broke the top 100 women! Yay for slow-ass me!)

Age group: 12 / 2,133

26.2 is your bitch

Yesterday, I rode from White Rock down to Bellingham, WA with a couple friends. Bored of some of the local rides, two friends were heading down to Chuckanut Drive / Larabee State Park to recon a 50k trail run so we took the opportunity to do a point-to-point ride across the border. It was a great ride - lots of long stretches with wide shoulders. The last section, just south of Fairhaven, is particularly scenic as it meanders up Chuckanut Drive with gorgeous panoramic vistas over Bellingham Bay. Though rain threatened for most of the ride, sun eventually prevailed as we pulled into the parking lot for a quick change and short 5k run brick.

What struck me as I was driving home and reflecting on a very pleasant morning of training is how fun it is just to train. There is no time pressure, you take things at your own pace and just enjoy.

Fast forward to this morning, day of the 39th Vancouver marathon. I woke up at 5:30am so I could drop a friend off at the start line and sneak in an 18k run in time to watch the marathoners pass through Kits. The run was great. It was a misty but calm morning, and I drew energy from the marathon course volunteers setting up....I must say that it was also mighty fine to run down Point Grey Road and into Stanley Park absent any traffic at all!

My jaunty little run was a walk in the park and complete juxtaposition with what I would witness for the next few hours. Bogey (my sidekick marathon super-fan) and I perched ourselves at the corner of Point Grey Road and Waterloo - this is part of the out and back section for the marathoners, approx. 31.5k on the way out and 34.5k on the return. Yes, this is the "wall". That dreaded point in a marathon when the smile starts crumbling, the legs start to ache and you wish you were anywhere but running a marathon.

This is the exact same distance where, two weeks earlier, I started unraveling at Boston. At 20 miles, your body starts a rebellion. At 21.5 miles / 34.5k, it is just an all and out assault. I could see this in the faces of the passing runners - the concentration, the pain, the exhaustion, the grit and the sheer will. And I totally understood.

Bearing this in mind, if you want to be a marathon super-fan and not a super-jerk there are certain things you never, ever, EVER say to a marathoner at 34.5k without risking life and limb:

"You are almost there" 8k is not a lot, but it is an eternity in a marathon. You are NOT almost there at 34.5k. Almost there is, like, 3 steps. Anything longer than 200m is not almost there. Trust me on this.

"Looking good" Seriously, have you ever seen anyone looking good at 34.5k? And they know it. No point in buttering anyone up.

"Run faster" My favorite. If I heard someone say this to me at 34.5k, I would have half a mind to step off the course and throw my gatorade in their face.

And yet, there we were at 34.5k on the marathon course listening to the spectators say these things.

So my sign took a different tact completely:

All in good fun, of course. But this tends to be how I feel at this point in a marathon (aka...you are mine, bitch!) so I took a chance and threw it on a sign....and loved the reactions. From high-fives to cat calls to one guy who actually stopped and had his photo taken with me and the sign. One sixty-ish woman ran past and said "damned right". It was absolutely priceless. The intended effect was to make runners smile, dig a little and forget for a minute where they were....and I think it worked :)

So congrats to all that came, saw and conquered the 26.2 today. There were great times posted out there today and the hard training paid off. Congrats to the new BQ's and some smoking fast PRs...you know who you are. Kudos to you all for hanging in there and toughing it out. 26.2 is indeed a bitch....but today she was YOUR bitch!

To train or not to train

"You're running on guts. On fumes. Your muscles twitch. You throw up. You're delirious. But you keep running because there's no way out of this hell you're in, because there's no way you're not crossing the finish line. It's a misery that non-runners don't understand."-Martine Costello

I struggled today with a personal conundrum over balancing the search for sustained happiness in a crazy world that doesn't always see eye-to-eye with me and the confluence of my personal goals with the (sometimes wildly different) expectations of others.

One of the things that coaches and experienced athletes warn you about undertaking a serious athletic endeavor, whether it is a marathon or full distance triathlon or otherwise, is the impact that it is going to have on your life. To succeed, it is somewhat imperative to fully commit yourself to your goal – live it, breathe it and love it. If you can do that, stay sane and keep healthy then half the battle is won. Perseverance and commitment are not enough though – the support of those around you is absolutely critical. So when the people around you don’t understand why you are doing it, it makes things a little challenging.

I know that doing Ironman Canada will be one of the most excruciatingly difficult things I have ever done, and with four months of training left am not even that confident that I will be able to finish. Yet, I plug away one day at a time, fighting hard to balance work, training and life….and trying to stay happy doing it. Every week is a careful balancing act between the demands of work, training and those around me and admittedly, you start to become a little obsessive and weird. You start doing things you never thought you would do.

I am not a morning person, yet have started getting up at 4:45 am a few days a week just so I can fit in my workouts, time with my dog and still get to work on time. On rainy cold winter evenings, I still lace up and run even though I would prefer to stay inside. I have learned how to swim despite mostly hating every second of it. And the list goes on and on…..

So why do I do it?

Here is the answer only an endurance athlete will understand: it is difficult to train, but it is even more difficult to not be able to train.

I can’t sing worth a damn, I am not a literary or scientific genius and I am not going to win any races, yet I can run and bike and feel great joy from it. I recognize the limitations of my skills and will always be a recreational athlete, yet I am driven by the yearning to feel the wind at my back and experience those fabulous days when you feel like you could go on forever.

You do, however, learn to take the good with the bad. Your body doesn’t always want to cooperate – you get tired, you feel pain and sometimes it takes a whole lot of mental will to keep going. I realize this is not everyone’s cup of tea and that the prevailing view is probably that leisure time should be always fun and never painful. I could spend my Saturday mornings sleeping in or at the spa, Friday evenings out at a club or shopping. These are great activities, probably relaxing, and definitely not painful….yet in my mind not particularly rewarding in the long run. Doesn’t the bet on the table ultimately define the wealth of the victory?

Endurance racing is all about what you have in you. It’s about going until you see what you really have in your core, digging deep and pulling something more out when you begin to think there is just nothing left. It is horribly painful at times and any marathon runner will tell you that it never really gets easier (if it is getting easy then you are not working hard enough!). You never finish a race without experiencing a multitude of highs and lows or without struggling a bit and, for me, without at least once or twice thinking about quitting. But you don’t quit. You never quit.

There is a certain sense of accomplishment, and maybe even a little euphoria, that comes from the discipline, hard work and focus of training. I understand why it is not for everyone, and yet, I hope that this explains a little why it is for me.