The Week After

So, the triathlon was a week ago and I stayed on a high for a few days. It was just this amazing feeling of going after something that you didn't think you could do and then doing it.

Unfortunately (and fortunately, since that's how I make money), I had a project last week and I got totally immersed in that. But I got to talk about it every once in awhile and felt that proud rush all over again.

I was also pleased at the support that came to me for my Nepal trip. I've gotten some checks already and I'm hoping that others who promised they would give actually do. I've got $500. I have no idea how I'm going to get to $10,000. I'm really going to have to change some ways of doing things for that.

This morning, Robb and I rode 15 miles. A delightful, fun ride full of conversation and beautiful weather. It was my first ride since the tri. There is a real difference in my attitude. In training before, I was thinking about "can I do it?" or "what will it be like." For this ride, I'm planning and strategizing about how I can do it better. I'm totally hooked.

And, even better, Robb is committed to doing one in July. We'll be the big, fat triathlon family. Awesome!

The AfterGlow

I'm trying to be humble. I'm trying to move onto other things. But I just can't. I'm just pleased as punch with myself. I did a Triathlon. I did something that impresses the heck out of me! I set a really big goal and I made it.

I go into project tomorrow and I know I'll get sucked into the world of work and fast food (the topic this week), but for now, I'm just enjoying every minute.

I'm not too terribly sore which, to me, means that I trained well. And I had to fight the urge to want to bike ride today, which means that I either love it or am nuts.

I want to wear my medal and shout out to the whole world what I've done. I want them to look at me, my big thighs and butt and go "really?!" I want to tell everyone in the world that they can do anything that they set their mind to. If I can do this, they can do anything.

And when I thought I could be no more impressed with myself, I got my times.

Swim-10:55. Seriously? I did 11 minutes in the pool. Not doing mostly breast stroke. And not with 100 other people. Under 11 minutes is nuts.

Transition 1-9:41. Yeah, that's pitiful. I need work there. I added 2 minutes helping Kyle. But if the time that I'm most disappointed about is T1, I'll live with that.

Bike-48.26. Again, I'm very happy with that. I thought I was going fast, but that is an average of 15 mph, almost 2mph faster than my fastest training time. Wow!

Transition 2--2.19. I'm ok with that in my first race. Kyle did it in 52 seconds. That's a transition.

Run-34.56. I normally run a 15 minute mile. For those of you who run, you should be rolling on the floor laughing right now. Many people can walk that fast. But for 2.75 miles, that means I did 12.5 minute mile! I've NEVER run that fast.

Total--1:46. I was hoping for under 2 hours. I got it. By a lot. I really am so happy with those times.

Kyle's times:
Swim-11:43. He struggled with it he said, and floated on his back for some. But still, that is an impressive time. Before the race we said that anything under 15 minutes was a win!

Transition 1-- 11:34. Yeah. Oops. Oh well.

Bike 56:45. This is a great time considering that he had just done his first full 12 mile bike 3 days before. AND, he stopped to help a fellow racer.

Trans :52 (impressive)

Run 33:11 His 5Ks have been averaging around 13 min/mile. This was 12 min/mile. Again, darned impressive.

Total 1:54. Under 2 hours, baby!

The Wildman Triathlon--March 14th, 2009

"If God invented marathons to keep people from doing anything more stupid, the triathlon must have taken Him completely by surprise." ~P.Z. Pearce

The alarm went off at 4:45. That's just insane. But we had to get up, have breakfast (what to eat? Someone said to eat what we normally have for breakfast. I don't know if that is the best approach. Something to ask Scott), get the bikes loaded and get out the door by 5:30.

Our bags were packed the night before with a long check-list of what to remember. But I was paranoid that I'd forgotten something.

The complete darkness of the morning took me by surprise. I was quite intimidated by it. We drove into the park and saw triathletes walking their bikes around and getting marked. We parked far away and walked towards the big lights, hoping we were going the right way. We ended up coming in the back entrance and missed where they were marking everyone.

We found our spot and started setting up. That is when we realized that we were way out of our league. We saw people laying out towels. Getting little pans of water to wash off their feet. Laying out their shoes. We saw someone "practicing" taking his socks off and on quickly. Us? I had a backpack with stuff. Kyle had his shoved in bags. We had practiced transitions but we had no idea how that would translate when you have 18 square inches of space next to your bike. We rigged up the best system we could figure out and reassured each other we'd be fine. We met a really nice guy who made us feel welcome and a real snob who made us feel stupid.

I was SO glad I was doing this with Kyle. We were figuring this out together. Talking to keep each other sane. Planning our strategy (if you can call it that). At one point, he turned to me and said "Thanks for getting me into this, Mom). For me, that was the highlight. It was his expression of love and gratitude, in his own 13-year-old way.

We were participating in the "My First Triathlon"--a special race especially for people like us. The only difference was that we had a shorter run (1/4 mile instead of 1/2 mile), a purple wristband to identify us as first timers and we got a medal (along with the kids).

Because of the My First Tri, we were waves three and four of the race--green and orange caps respectively. Luckily, the water was warm. But it was also the color of iced tea due to the tanic of the leaves around the lake. And as a result, it had a visibility of about 2 inches!

Robb, Eric and my good friend and "coach", Deb Costello, were there to cheer us on. I got big smooches from Robb. Eric made me promise I wouldn't die. And Deb gave me the advice to "enjoy the journey." Just the words I needed to help me with perspective. I realized that one year ago, I tried to run. I tried to just run around the block. I had to stop five times. And I had to stop five times for the next several weeks. Then I only had to stop three times. And by May, I could do it without stopping. Then in June I went a mile and a half. And in September I decided to do a Triathlon. Just ONE YEAR LATER, I was doing this. No minor accomplishment. It is that--the journey of this last year--that makes me so proud. Not that I was getting ready to start a triathlon. It was more that I could be considering it at all.

Meeting at the beach at 7:45. Waves 1 and 2 went off around 8 and 8:05. Then they moved in buoys for the shorter swim for us. The first men for the half mile were coming out before we even went INTO the water. Total studs.

Kyle went in first and my heart sunk. That was my baby. And I lost sight of him pretty quickly. I hoped he was okay and wasn't scared.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and my wave was off. As Deb coached, I counted "one, two, three" and let the others go first. Then I dove in. Arms, legs, torsos everywhere. Scott had said that the beginning is like swimming in a washing machine. Exactly. And I couldn't see the legs getting ready to kick me.

Quickly I realized that my training in the pool wasn't sufficient. I was doing freestyle. While my opposite-side breathing was automatic, when I turned my head for a breath, my mouth was still in water. I needed to lift it up to the side about 15 degrees more. I also was constantly looking up to see where the buoy was. After a couple of mouthfuls of water and straining my neck, it was easier to go to breast stroke. I tried to go back to freestyle after an interval, but it was exhausting.

I felt like I was going SO SLOWLY, but I was passing swimmers, even some of the men from the previous wave. And I couldn't worry about the time, I could just swim. I was on the way back to shore when I saw Kyle get out of the water and could relax a little. I was glad I knew where he was.

I stood up when I could touch the ground and ran out of the water, astonished at how tired my legs were (I NOW know that was a mistake as that made my legs more tired). Eric gave me my sandals, Deb told me that Kyle was about 2 minutes ahead of me and Robb took pictures. I tried to run to the transition area, but my legs were HEAVY!

Made it to the transition area. Kyle was sitting there getting all his gear on. He was using someone else's bucket to wash off his feet. I just pulled my sandals off and threw on my socks and shoes. I had given Eric a towel at the beach, but forgot to get it when I got out of the water. Oh well. I was ready to go, but Kyle was still struggling. He almost forgot his glasses. Then he got sand on them. I stopped and helped him out, finding something dry to clean them off for him. He told me to go, but I stayed and helped him. We came out of transition together. He had a mountain bike so started riding it and got yelled at. Me, my water bottle came out of the holder and I didn't notice until I was about to get on the bike. At which point I swore. Luckily, a guy came running up with it.

I asked Kyle if he wanted me to ride with him and he told me to go ahead and I did. I LOVE the bike ride. It's spiritual for me. Beautiful lake houses made the time go quickly. I tried to remember to hydrate. Made sure I watched for signs for turning. And I ate my jelly beans that were my tastier alternative to those icky gels for carb energy. I have to come up with another system for opening and eating those. Tricky to do while keeping your hands on the bike....

But mostly, I kept looking for places where I could check on Kyle. Towards the end, we had a long strip where we went down and came back--almost two miles. I was sure I'd see him. Surely he couldn't be THAT far behind me....but I didn't. When we came out, they were signalling for me to turn, but I stopped to wait for him. He was coming down the road. He yelled that he had stopped for someone who crashed. He was fine. I was relieved and could let the mother side of me go and continue as the cyclist.

I thought I was making good time, but I had no idea. My only way of keeping track of times and distances was through my iPhone, which I wasn't allowed to bring. I had no idea how much further I had to go and what my speed was. But I remember at one point thinking that I should think about backing off the speed because my legs would get too tired for the run.

Got back to the transition area and yelled to my cheering section that Kyle was about two miles behind. In transition, got my running shoes and my number. I also grabbed a bottle of water, because I was used to running with my water belt, which I had given to Kyle. Carrying the bottle was a mistake. Just a little water bottle, but it felt heavy.

My legs were lead. Dead weights. I got nervous. But just kept reminding myself to just run. Don't think. I actually don't remember much about that part of the race at all. After the first quarter mile or so, I started to feel like a normal run. At one point, there was a sign to go to the right, but some were going straight. I decided to follow the sign but found out that many had skipped the whole loop (including the woman who placed just ahead of me). The run was pretty--through the group camping area where there was a Boy Scout Jamboree. Through a NJROTC campout where teens were giving backrubs to each other (yeah, I know what that was about). Through the family camping area where I could see the tents, campers. Decided that I wanted to camp there. Some of the campers were triathletes who were already done and back at the site. Jerks.

I never stopped running, except for four steps at the second water stop because I had almost choked while trying to drink while running at the first. I knew that if I stopped, I wouldn't be able to start again. My other big sensation was the need to go to the bathroom. I thought of stopping at the camp bathroom, but that would take too much time. At the end of the run, I met Jane. She would walk a little, fall behind me then run a little and catch up. I also met a guy who was in his second Leukemia remission and way overweight, but there he was doing a triathlon. Impressive.

I heard cheering in the distance. I was CONVINCED that it was after 10:30 and that the awards ceremony had already started. So I was startled to get close to the finish and see everyone there. Every little bit of energy came out to run down the chute to the finish line. I raised my arms for the picture. Robb was there at the end with a hug, but I was even more glad to see the cold bottle of water, which I chugged. I barely noticed them taking off my transponder and handing me a medal (what about putting it around my neck, dudes?).

Then I just started rambling to Deb and Robb--about every little detail. About what surprised me. And how hard it was. I kept talking and talking. I forgot to turn around and wait for Kyle. Finally Robb said he was coming. There came my baby, lumbering down the chute, looking exhausted. He recovered, realized that there was pizza over at the pavilion and went over and ate FOUR PIECES (oh to be 13 with that metabolism).

I kept processing, we hung out, said goodbye to Robb who was off to a rocket launch and to Deb who was off to teach a seminar. We watched a little of the awards ceremony but then decided to head out. Kyle and I went over to the transition area to collect our mess of stuff. We loaded the bikes onto the truck. And just as I was closing the car door, I heard over the loud speaker "Kyle Haskins." He won an award. You've never seen two people who were so tired book our way over to the pavilion! He got first in his age group! And got a plaque. He was STOKED! That little plaque was just the killer touch. His mom had toasted his time but he got a plaque.

We headed to IHOP, his idea. He had FIVE pancakes (again that metabolism) and headed home. During lunch, Kyle said "That was the hardest thing I've ever done." He also said that he needed to train more. While I had trained 4-6 days a week, he barely did 1-2...and he knew that it showed. But he also started immediately talking about doing another one very soon. Surprisingly, so did Robb. It really inspired him. He swam as a kid. And he bikes almost everyday. He just needs to get running. But he got really excited about it.

We got home by 1pm. Barely afternoon. But we had accomplished more in that morning than anyone else we knew. We were sore. We were tired. We were triumphant.

Preparing for the Triathlon

I'm going to do this in three installments--because I want to remember all of it. What an amazing weekend. I'll have other triathlons. But none of them will be the first.

Let's start with the weekend before the race. Kyle and I wanted to do a pseudo-triathlon to make sure we could do it. We did the swim, drove home quickly and did our transition into the bike. But we had just gotten our bikes back from the shop. Mine had a clicking noise (later found out it was just in another gear). I stopped to check it out. Kyle stopped to see if I was okay and squeezed his newly tuned brakes--they were much tighter and his front wheel STOPPED and he flew over the handlebars and landed on the street--scrapped and bloody. Of course, he didn't go further, but after getting him settled with ice and pain relievers, I continued.

No problem with the ride, but by the time of the run, it had been 5 hours since I had eaten and it was the heat of noon. I couldn't do the whole run. I was spent. Done. Crap. It was then that I was worried about the race. Could I really do it?

But that week, I got a strong week of workouts. Two strong swims, some light strength training, and a couple good runs. After Thursday's swim, I was done. No more workouts till the race.

On Friday, I checked Kyle out of school early and we went to pick up our packets. They had a "webinar" on Wednesday where they went through the rules, how everything was going to work, etc. But they were also doing a course walk-through at 3pm on Friday and we wanted to see that. We asked all the silly questions like "how do you put the bike on the rail without a kickstand?" "how does the transponder work?" "are there alligators in the lake?" (the answer was yes!). But we got to see where we went in and out and got a strategy for the long walk between the lake and the transition area (Kyle's strategy--run barefoot; my strategy--give sandals to Robb).

The highlight of the day? Someone asked where the spectators could go. They said "Only athletes are allowed in the transition area." I looked at Kyle and whispered, "I think they just called us 'athletes.'" I've never been called an athlete. Excellent.

Carb loading at Macaroni Grill with the family and Kailey. Then early to bed with hopes of sleeping....

Triathlon for Bandipur!

I want to tell you all a story. Until recently, I never considered myself an athlete. I was the one struggling for the 100 yard dash, who would role her ankle just playing tennis and huffed and puffed when doing anything physical.

That has changed for me recently. What made me change? A sappy Nike commercial and wishing for a trip to Nepal. It is the trip to Nepal I want to tell you about…and ask for your help.

Several years ago my friend Jeannie went on a trip to the small town of Bandipur, Nepal. Since then she has raised money for plumbing for their school and a new home for an elderly couple who were walking two hours to and from work every day. I’ve dreamt of going with her, but there was one big obstacle—the trip requires a long walk up a mountain and I was out of shape.

So last year around this time, I started running. My goal was to run a mile without stopping. It took me over two months. In May of last year, I ran a whole mile. In November, I ran my first 5K. In just two weeks, March 14—just a year after I started on this journey--I’m doing my first triathlon.

For some of you, this may be no big deal. But for those who know me well, I’m not a petite woman. This is a very big deal for me. And I’m doing it as a means to an end—to get in shape so I can get up that mountain in Nepal.
But here’s the next challenge. I don’t want to go to Nepal empty handed. So, I set another very ambitious goal. I want to raise $10,000 to take to the town of Bandipur to help them buy books, supplies and provide better structures for their schools. My goal is to raise it in time to go this coming November.

This is where I need your help. If everyone who reads this note sends me $15, then I can raise $10,000! And to what other organization can you donate where you know the person who is actually making sure it goes where it is supposed to go?

So just reply and let me know that you’re in right now. I’ll find you and remind you to send it when it is convenient for you. And no guilt if you can’t do it--I totally understand.

Thank you. And if you’ve ever doubted about the power of goals and dreams, then let me remind you that anything is possible.

This Sucks (aka How to Care So Much Without It Consuming You)

Okay, so there is no possible way to describe what is happening besides --this Sucks! Kailey has cancer. It's changed her world. It is changing our world. I'm trying to not let it affect me too much, but I'm finding that very difficult.

First of all, you have to understand who Kailey is for us. We "found" each other on Halloween 7 years ago. I was a cow, she was Dr. Kevorkian, jokes were exchanged about her killing me and BAM--she was our babysitter and adopted daughter. She's been over to our house 2-5 times a month ever since--sometimes to babysit, sometimes to hang out, sometimes to take the kids to do something amazing that their parents would never do. We have a gecko named after her. She is somewhere between a daughter, friend, sister and drinking buddy. She's a very strong, independent, BEAUTIFUL young woman who it has been more than our pleasure to watch mature and find her unique place in the world.

And she has cancer. Ovarian. With some spread to her back. And it sucks so much.

She told us and I freaked but then kind of went into denial. It wasn't until she came over for dinner, described everything in her matter-of-fact Kailey way that it was in our face and we couldn't deny it. A week later she moved back to the neighborhood with her dad, which puts her a block away from us. We're walking her dog, having dinner with her, hanging out and helping her how we can. In a way, it is great to get to spend so much time with her. I wish it weren't under these circumstances.

On the one hand, she is so strong and dealing with this so well. It is fascinating to watch this from a 22-year old's perspective. How to handle wearing a mask while dating. Handling 3 guys who are interested in her at the same time. Fitting in college courses inbetween chemo.

On the other hand, it is incredibly hard for anyone and she's had her share of ups and downs already--and it is just beginning. Changing diagnoses for the cancer in her back--the radiation is off, it's on, it's off again. She's had her second lumbar puncture and gotten meningitis from it each time. The chemo affects everything. She has to wear a mask which has prompted INSANE comments. And she's shaving her hair today because it is one way she can take control over losing it over the next few days.

My role--I've been trying to play plenty, but which ones are needed? Friend? Mother-figure? Nurturer? Someone to keep it light? Support only where needed? Food provider? Source of organic fruits and vegetables? Someone to keep her from getting lonely and scared? I want to be all of these? But I don't want to smother her. And I know I can't solve it. And, it doesn't help anyone if I can't focus also on my life--my work, husband, kids, life.

So, to my grounded, pastoral-based friends out there--how do I stay supportive, acknowledge the hugeness of this in our life and help to truly make a difference....but not get totally consumed by it?

Should We Be Doing All This?

OK, before I even start typing, a MAJOR disclaimer. I LOVE my friends and family. I want them to be healthy. I want everything to be done possible to make them healthy. The following rantings are broadly philosophical and overall ethics and not about specific individuals.

Okay, this has been quite a few weeks. First you have to hear me rant about the back story. But I'll tell you that the overall theme is people being made physically miserable by medical efforts to make them healthy. Not the illnesses themselves, but by the medical interventions RELATED to the illnesses. That is the topic of my ranting.

1. My uncle Dave. Had a liver transplant several years ago. Kidneys are not doing well and on dialysis. But major issue is four blocked arteries. Had a quadruple bypass and was in the hospital for many days, feeling miserable. (Mostly his legs hurt from where they took the arteries). The surgery was necessary to prevent a serious heart attack.

2. My friend Dave. Has colitis. Had a combination of medicines that made him so anemic that he was hospitalized for several blood transfusions. In the hospital for days. Missed a lot of work. It wasn't the colitis that ultimately caused the hospitalization--it was the combination of medications.

3. My friend Terri. She is HIV positive and her counts went down dramatically a couple of weeks ago. She was incredibly lucky to find a very famous doctor who is working on advanced treatment for HIV/AIDS in Africa who put her on an experimental treatment. But for the first week, her body was doing everything it could to reject these awful chemicals. She basically lived in the bathroom, slept with her head on the toilet with her body rejecting this in every way it could. It wasn't the HIV that had her sick, it was the life-saving treatment.

4. Our babysitter (and "adopted" daughter) Kailey. At 22, she's been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. (Yes, let's all acknowledge that this sucks beyond all belief). She's had one round of chemotherapy and has given us all the grisly details. Puking, no energy, no strength, everything tastes like metal, can't eat anything "unreal". Plus she gets something called "chemo brain" which makes her forget the sequence of things (like she got dressed and THEN got in the shower and turned it on!). The cancer isn't affecting her yet. This is all from the treatment.

5. My mother. She had a tightening in her chest and pains down her arm. Because she has every single risk factor for heart trouble, they admitted her for three days, ran lots of tests, poked and prodded and bruised her, and at the end of the day let her go saying there was nothing they could do and her arteries aren't clogged. No heart attack, but plenty of trauma to find that out.

First of all, YES--these are all within the last two weeks. Second of all--notice that these all have one thing in common. All of these people are suffering. But they are NOT suffering from the illness that is the root cause. They are all suffering from the TREATMENT of said disease. The treatments are so harsh that people are puking, collapsing, bleeding and showering with their clothes on.

For me, I have to wonder if our goal of saving everyone, curing everything and defying mortality at any cost has gone too far. We are putting cell-killing chemicals into our bodies, creating toxic healing "cocktails", putting cameras into hearts, medicines that make us sicker and our organs onto machines just to heal us. Our earth is getting more and more populated and we're working harder and harder to keep it that way.

I don't have the answer--just a great big question. Should we be doing this? And, again, please refer to the first paragraph. This is very much a NIMBY (not in my back yard) question. YES--I want all this to be done for MY loved ones. But I have to ask--as this is all being thrown in my face--is this really the humane way to treat humanity?

My First Brick

I know. I thought the same thing. What's a brick?

My friend Deb is the absolute best. She's the one who got me into this. At a cocktail party (I love that word) last year, she innocently asked me if I was interested in doing a triathlon. I didn't even let her finish the sentence before I said "YES." I don't know why. I had consumed a few drinks, was feeling cocky and I said "YES." Ever since then, she has been a recruiter, cheerleader, trainer and life coach for a number of women she's recruited to the cause.

She called me yesterday and said "I just realized you're a month out. We've got to start working." Well, I'm five weeks out, but she effectively freaked me out. She and all her other girls aren't doing thier tri until May--but my first one is March 14th. She told me that I need to stop drinking (well, ok), drink lots of water, eat more protein (but I'm vegetarian!!!) and start doing Bricks.

Bricks are Biking and Running Combinations. We can do these different things separately, but the secret to the triathlon is that they all go TOGETHER. Going from swimming to biking isn't that tough because swimming is mostly upper body and biking is mostly lower body. But going from biking to running is a different matter. So, I did my first one--half of what the race is going to be--6 mile bike and 1 mile run. I also got to practice the transition--what do I need to take off after the bike (shoes, helmet, gloves) and put on for the run (running shoes, water belt). I wasn't expecting how HEAVY my legs felt after the bike. But I ran 1.25 miles. And I think I could do two. I'll be finding out in the next couple of weeks.

Aren't you glad to know all this stuff???

Run Around The Universe

Our third 5K. They're almost becoming normal now. That is actually very cool for me.

This one was pretty awesome because it was held at Universal Studios. We started in the bus parking lot, ran through City Walk, ran all the way around Islands of Adventure and then through the back lots of Universal Studios and then through the "streets" of Universal Studios. We ran out the front gates and then ended right in front of the Hard Rock Cafe. All along the route were Universal employees with cute signs, cowbells and cheers. It was very easy not to think about the run because there was so much to look at along the way.

But what was cool about this one is the role that Eric had. He came with us because Robb was gone for the day and I had to do a training afterwards--I didn't want him home alone. So, he said goodbye to us at the starting line and then was walking to where the race ended. But I ran into him about a third-mile in waiting to cheer us on. I passed him and said "C'mon, Eric, run with me." He got this big surprised smile on his face and said he would. About another third of a mile, he turned to me and said "When should I stop." I said "Don't stop. Run the whole thing with me." His face lit up again and he decided to go for it.

Now, this is big for Eric. He was impressed with what Kyle and I were doing, but he didn't think he could do it. He didn't want to "train." He didn't think he could run. But before he knew it, we were half way through. Poor kid was running in his jeans with a big, bulky sweatshirt, but he was running. And he had to stop and walk sometimes, but luckily for him, I'm a really slow runner so he could walk a little and then run and catch up. We talked along the way and I made sure to tell him several times how proud I was of him. It was a real treat to see his face light up when I said that.

We finished at 42.10. That is 15 seconds longer than my last race. But considering that I ran a little slower for Eric, I consider that a great success.

For the triathlon, I feel confident that I can do the run. And I've done 15 mile bike rides a couple of times now without much problem (a sore butt the next day). I'm working on the swimming. Tonight I had my second swim this week and I think I can do the 1/4 mile.

Yesterday, I officially signed up for TWO triathlons-- a short sprint (1/4 mile swim, 12 mile bike, 2 mile run) in March and then a full sprint in May (1/2 mile swim, 16 mile bike and 3.1 mile run). I need to get the swim going, but I don't think I'll die.

The training continues. But I'm really enjoying it!