Category Archives: triathlon

Adulting is hard

I’ve written before about what I not-so-affectionately call my limplungs.  The cliff notes version is that I’ve had pneumonia many times, which apparently means my lungs are “scarred” (according to an emergency room doctor), and whenever I get any sort of virus, it tends to make a straight shot for my lungs and make itself comfortable.

I used to approach these maladies with what my husband calls my “Christian Scientist” approach to sickness in general, which is to curl my lip at any actual medical intervention (like a visit to a doctor. Antibiotics. OTC medicine. Rest. Whathaveyou) and just mind-over-matter my way through it. This works very well for me with headaches, stomach bugs, minor aches and pains, and a vast assortment of other physical ailments.

It took me a few visits over the past several years to acute care and the emergency room, with the accompanying breathing treatments and shots in the ass (literally), to recognize that maybe when it comes to my limplungs, proactive and aggressive medical intervention is better.

For an educator, I can be a slow learner.

Which is all to say that when I woke up last Sunday morning, after chaperoning 101 seniors on an overnight retreat in the woods, followed by my middle son’s birthday slumber party, I figured my stuffed nose, painful sinuses and burning throat was just allergies and exhaustion. By Wednesday, when I added wheezing, coughing and hacking up brown junk to my symptoms, I knew I had to get on the phone to Teladoc.

(can we just pause a moment and praise the existence of Teladoc? For those of you that don’t have this employee perk, it’s a doctor that you call. And yes, I despise the phone, but I hate waiting rooms and copays even more. This is free and quick. It’s perfect for when you know what you need, but you just need someone with the initials MD to get it for you)

So I called Teladoc and explained that no, I did not need antibiotics because I was pretty sure it was viral (don’t get me started on the over-prescribed antibiotic epidemic) but that I did need a refill on my inhaler because it was out and the gunk was in my lungs and that never ends well.  I also explained that I have a triathlon in exactly 11 days and I would really prefer to make my race, so could he hook an athlete up with something?

He prescribed a course of steroids to make sure my lungs cleared up. And a hard pass on my girls’ trip to Austin this weekend, saying the best thing I could possibly do for myself was take it easy and get lots of rest.

No offense to the Teladoc medical professional, but this was a crappy treatment plan all around. For one, steroids make me a little crazy cranky. For another, NOT THE GIRLS’ WEEKEND I HAVE BEEN WORKING MYSELF INTO THE GROUND FOR 5 STRAIGHT WEEKS GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN, DOC.

But, alas, I knew the “smart” thing to do was to jump on the steroids and bail out on the fun weekend. A combination that, while slowly clearing up my lungs (I’m pretty sure the triathlon will happen as planned next Sunday), has resulted in most of this weekend spent scrolling through social media in a melancholy, weepy, pity party.

I kid. (not really)

It’s not all sad and lonely, however. Today is also the 7th anniversary of my first date with my husband. I blogged about it 3 years ago, and we’re still happily married (jazz hands!) so I’m going to rally and head out to our first date restaurant with him for dinner tonight.

Knock on wood the limplungs make a full recovery and my next post is a triathlon race report!

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Back to school

If it’s been almost a month since I blogged, it must be back to school time! (or May. Or there’s a crisis. Or I don’t feel like blogging. But in this case, it’s back to school).

I know for moms everywhere back to school is crazy, and for teachers everywhere back to school is crazy, but it’s a special brand of manic exhaustion to be a teacher mom (not to mention with multiple children).  Every year from the 2nd week of August until roughly mid-September, my family goes from 0 to 120mph, literally overnight. It seems like every. single. night. my husband and I are brainstorming tomorrow’s schedule of how to get 3 busy teenagers and 2 educators to their respective obligations (with 2 cars, I might add).

But every year, we figure it out, albeit with some help from our village.

Every year, it also gets just a little bit more exhausting. I honestly can’t figure out if it’s because I really am feeling these mid-40s years, (age is no joke, people), or if as the kids get older, they have more commitments. Next year will be a good litmus test, as we’ll be down one child after we drop our oldest off at college (more on that in a minute).

This year, however, there was a noticeable decrease in the nightly dinners with 5 people around the table. We were more frequently missing at least one, if not two or more, children home for dinner. We capitalized on this by trying to take the remaining 1 or 2 kids out for special “Mom and Stepdude” dinners.

As you can tell, the girlchild was simply thrilled with the personal attention.

Despite the crazy schedule, I did squeeze in some fun friend time; one of my goals as my children get older, life gets crazier, and my work obligations get more demanding, is to not neglect my friendships. While I don’t wish a personal crisis on anyone, there is no better reminder of how important a support network is like a divorce, sick child or other stressful life event. These ladies have been with me through the ups and downs for nearly a decade now, and I love them to bits.

Even if they do argue over who has to stand next to the tall blonde one when we do group pictures.

Then there was the actual first day of school (August 24th for us). This year I have an 8th grader,  9th grader and senior (!). It’s my last year with children spanning more than one division at our pk-12 private school, It’s the first year for the middle child to wear khakis instead of navy blue.

And of course, it’s my oldest child’s last first day of school. At some point this year, I will do a blog post about what it’s like to parent a senior in high school, after twenty years of educating them (I began teaching 11th and 12th grade English in August 1997).

Spoiler: I’m not nearly as prepared, or chill, as I thought I would be.

my oldest manchild, who is now more man than child. 

First day of school, years 9 and 11 for us at our current school (although I beat him by several years in overall educator tenure). 

There was also the Upper School pre-Eucharist chapel tie lesson for my middle guy. In the middle school, they have clip-on ties for Thursday Eucharist. When you graduate to the big kids, you have to learn how to put on a “real” tie. Three years ago, my husband stood in our kitchen and taught the eldest this life skill; this time around, big brother helped (although stepdad had to lend his voice of experience).

So, here we are, September. Next week is the “worst” week, schedule-wise: we have Upper School parent night (which doubles as work night for us), then 2 days of Upper School retreats (all 4 grades go away to separate locations with faculty chaperones for class bonding activities), 2 field hockey games, 1 football game (aka drumline performance), and then my middle guy’s 15th birthday.

And that’s just next week.

But hey, I’m still doing that triathlon on September 24th (gulp), and putting together a race schedule for the rest of the school year. Thank you to everyone who weighed in on my marathon training plan query – I will definitely be running the marathon at a run-walk, just still not sure what plan I will use (will do the long runs at my run-walk ratio regardless of plan).

 

Tri training and end of summer update

I have lived in Texas for 11 years (which still kind of blows my mind) but one thing I’m still not used to is thinking of the first (at most, second) week of August as the “end of summer”. Growing up in New England, we didn’t start school until after Labor Day, and even as a teacher in the late 90s and early 2000 years, I didn’t have to return for professional development until the end of August.

For me, “summer” is really July and August, even though here in Texas, it’s June and July (well, per the schools. If you go by the temperature, it’s roughly 65% of the year. Another aspect of Texas I am not fond of).

This is all to say that I’m about to head back to work, and the kids are in the thick of frantically starting finishing their summer work.

I’m still plugging away preparing for my September triathlon.  Training has been going well, in the sense that I’ve been very consistent with the 2x a week workouts in all disciplines, plus strength training, plus an additional weekly brick. I feel like I’m in solid shape, if not at my “fastest”. I’m not approaching this triathlon very competitively, given the timing (on the heels of the first 4-6 weeks back at work, which is always a beatdown). It seems every year, as I get older, I am a bit more tired with the teacher-mom August – September hamster wheel.

I am, however, looking forward to having a fun race, while (hopefully) feeling good. If you can believe it, I’ve only done one race in 2017 (a 15k back in February) so I’m ready to get my head, and body, back in the game. As I’ve alluded to in previous posts, 2017 has been a really, really difficult year, and my athletic hobby has been low on the priority list – I’m hoping I can turn that around heading into 2018.

Speaking of re-focusing on 2018, I’m almost ready to commit to my marathon. I’m starting to look at different first-time marathon training plans. For those of you who have covered the 26.2 distance, what’s your favorite newbie plan?

Summer, continued, and triathlon musings

Well, here we are, halfway through July, and nearly a month since I posted last, ​with the “I can’t believe I’ve been out of work for 3 weeks and have no time” post. I’m wrapping up week 6 of 11 weeks off, which means my summer vacation is officially more than half over; I feel like I have nothing to show for my summer vacation – which is weird, because if I look at it objectively, I’ve done 2 trips to the East Coast, a bajillion mom appointments, and a lot of triathlon training.

I get unsettled without daily structure. Happens every single summer. Even when I know I’m being fairly productive, I *feel* like I’m wasting my life away, without really relaxing or taking time off. I’m sure my husband can’t wait for me to retire. Fortunately, with 3 kids to put through college, I will probably have to work until I die. #silverlining

Anyway, the animals have been very happy to have me home. Their favorite time of day is when I (attempt to) plank and do push-ups. They like to “help”.

I’ve been sticking to my twice-a-week strength training with the husband. For the first time in probably ever, I can see some muscle definition in my thighs.

We celebrated the 4th of July with some dear friends, and an (early) cake for my birthday.

On my actual birthday, we flew to Boston for my cousin’s wedding. It was an awesome 3 day affair with multiple parties and celebrations. My cousin married a Pakistani-American girl, so we were able to experience a piece of their culture with the festivities. It was beyond gorgeous and fun.

out celebrating my birthday at a Boston pub with my family. That’s the groom in the center, who was the most composed of all of us at that point. 

the bride’s family provided us with traditional clothing for one of the receptions. So much fun!

at the mosque for the wedding ceremony. 

I’m teaching a summer online class, and working on some “list” items of cleaning and organizing (some people do “spring cleaning” – I’m pretty sure most teachers do “summer cleaning”), but other than that, it’s pretty much daily workouts, errands and household chores.

Boring routine makes for boring blog, I guess.

I *am* brainstorming my upcoming year’s race schedule, and trying to map out a trajectory of goals and training to focus on. Other than my triathlon in September, I don’t have anything officially on the agenda. I’m currently debating whether I want to do an early November triathlon or focus on road races once my September triathlon is over. I have such a love-hate relationship with triathlons; while I love the mash-up of workouts rather than the drudgery of mostly running, the time + expense factor makes me stabby. It’s really hard to find the time to train when I’m not off for the summer, and I really should consider getting some more gear if I’m going to stick with it (wetsuit. bike that’s not a $250 Schwinn, etc) but I have a hard time reconciling the cost factor of triathlons.

Not to mention I still sort of hate the bike.

Secretly I’m hoping I’ll fall in love with the marathon in 2018 and just focus on that.

Realistically, I think the odds are better of me winning the lottery and having all the money in the world to spend on triathlons rather than loving training for and running 26.2 miles, but anything can happen, right?

I know a lot of runners and triathletes read this blog – feel free to weigh in on whether you focus solely on one vs the other (or how you balance the two if you do both), and (especially for middle class ish parents with kids at home), how you handle the ridiculous cost of triathlons. I’m pretty lowkey when it comes to racing, and I know you can do triathlons on the cheap(er) – heck, I’m doing it – but I’m wondering how you approach it. Only a certain number of races per year? Stick to sprints on cheaper/less equipment?

I’ve been approaching it with the mindset that this is just a fun off-season-from-running-cross-training-workout, but I feel like the (few) triathletes I know “in real life”, as well as those I follow virtually, are all hardcore triathletes – as in, they invest a lot more time and money on the sport than myself, and take it seriously. Wondering if there are other “casual” triathlete moms out there who are content with lowkey racing/training?

2017

happy-new-year-2017-wallpapers-images-pictures-hd5

Happy New Year!

I think there are a lot of people exhaling that the dreaded 2016 is finally over, and looking forward to a fresh calendar year. The stroke of midnight like a tangible exorcism of last year’s demons, albeit with champagne instead of sage and resolutions replacing incantations.

Meh. I’m not all that excited for 2017.

Now, lest you think I’m just stubbornly clinging to the pervasive 2016 Debbie Downer mentality, I have my reasons. Sure, there are some exciting and anticipatory events on the horizon. We have a family spring break trip planned for March. I’m trying to work out the details to return to Yankee-land in July for a family wedding. I do have a pretty scary exciting fitness goal for 2017 (more on that in a minute).

But I have a hunch, somewhat reasonable and partly intuitive, that 2017 is going to bring the winds of change. For better or for worse.

I don’t like change. I would rather stay entrenched in known and predictable misery than face the unknown. True story: when I was a child, my mother would ground me*.  Only, she wouldn’t tell me how long I was grounded for. It might be 2 weeks. It might be 2 days. I didn’t know. This was far, far worse than the actual moratorium on Atari or television or sleepovers. I used to try to bargain with her that she could add on extra time to whatever number she had in her head if she would only tell me when my time was up. It was the purgatory that made the hell.

For a woman who, still, to this day, likes to call me her “brilliant Georgetown girl”, she’s clearly no dummy herself.

Anyway, most of these possible changes, I can’t blog about, for various reasons. I can say that my oldest will be applying to colleges in 2017, and will in all likelihood (fingers crossed) already have an acceptance or two under his belt by this time next year. That situation is particularly difficult for me (above and beyond the usual oldest-flying-the-nest hurdle), and I’m still hoping that there will be an amicable, non-litigious, resolution.

But I’m prepared for the alternative.

So, count me in the camp of giving 2017 more of a suspicious side-eye than celebratory squee.

With that said, I do have two goals for 2017.

One: train for a marathon. I have been saying for a couple years now that I would cross the 26.2 threshold in 2018. It seemed like a safe and comfortable horizon back in 2014. I blinked, and here I am, starting 2017, and realizing that the once far off shore is the next port of call. Since most marathon training plans are 3-4 months long, and I’m looking at marathons in the first month or two of 2018, the majority of my training will most likely take place in 2017.

So. 2017. Time to step up my running game.

On a smaller scale, I still want to do some sprint triathlons and shorter distance races in the meantime (I have a 15k in early February, and a triathlon on the books for the end of April).

Two: write more.

new-years-greetings-quotes-for-friends

I’ve always written, in various forms and fashions. I journaled as a tween and teenager. As an English major in college, I was always writing. I did the mommy blogger gig before it was even deemed “mommy blogging”. I’ve written for my eyes only, and, once upon a time, for an audience of several thousand viewers a month (in my previous incarnation).

I’ve always written. Except not so much the past few years.

So, I’d like to return to that. Some of my writing will appear on this blog, natch. If you’re interested in reading my ramblings, especially once I figure out my marathon plans (gulp!), feel free to subscribe (top right), especially if you’re visiting from Facebook. I’m not planning on promoting most of my blog posts on there in 2017.

But some of my writing will not be published in this corner of the internet. This is not a resolution for public consumption. Not yet, anyway.

Happy 2017, everyone. May it be bigger, brighter, and filled with more hope, love and optimism than that stinker 2016.

 

*a lot. All the time. I spent approximately 67.4% of my childhood and adolescence on restriction.

Sayonara

So, how about that 2016?

If you’re on social media, or heck, sitting around kvetching with family or friends, you have probably heard, even declared yourself, that 2016 was the worst. year. ever. Don’t believe me? See here.

Here’s the thing, though. It wasn’t. I mean, it hasn’t been a banner year. Certainly for some people I know, who have endured personal grief, loss or challenging circumstances, it has legitimately been one of the worst. I’m sure there are people out there, maybe even reading right now, whose 2016 was their version of my 2010.  I’m not talking about those versions of 2016. Y’all go ahead and give 2016 the trophy for the biggest loser.

I’m talking about this.  How our access to information, and groupthink catastrophizing, has led us to this mantra. Yes, many celebrities died. Yes, the election was a clusterfuck. Definitely, the violence, both domestically and abroad, is tragic. But we still have it pretty good. By we, I mean those of you (myself included) with internet access reading from your comfortable First World abode. For the record, I’m in pretty good company with this assertion.

So can we agree, on this last day of 2016, that while the year set the bar relatively low for 2017, it wasn’t a total wash?

Personally, when I look back at my resolutions for 2016, I discover that, beyond completing my triathlon and continuing to eat healthy, I didn’t really make any grand goals. This is a relief as I prefer apathy to failure.

I kid. Well, not really, but my lack of resolution making last year was purposeful. Still, I had a fairly productive year.

  • Miles run: 683 (much lower than last year’s 835, but #triathlon)
  • Miles biked: 898
  • Miles swam: 38 (okay, this number makes me giggle. Really? Remember when I won my OWS AG by 10 minutes.  If only running and biking came to me as naturally as swimming. I could be a triathlon SUPERSTAR).
  • Races: 2 half marathons, 2 triathlons, 1 15k,  1 5k, and 1 open water swim race.

I feel like that is a decent year, although in retrospect, it doesn’t seem like many races. I would love to do more, but I try to limit the impact of my midlife hobby on my family’s budget and weekend time.

I’m ending the year at the same weight I began (actually maybe a couple pounds lighter. I think. I’ve orbited the same 5-6 pounds since 2011, but I’m currently on the lower end of the range).

In other ways, 2016 had many other achievements, tangible and measurable, and otherwise. I completed my first year running a new program for the senior class, and it went as well as could possibly be expected (which is to say with 91 out of 93 completing it on time, which is statistically successful but not up to my 100% or bust standards).  I saw my girlfriends more than in previous years, and considering we have 19 kids between the 6 of us, that’s no easy feat (we even squeezed in a weekend getaway for a 40th birthday celebration. Not mine of course. I’m older than 4 of them. Bitches.). My kids continued to flourish and celebrate their own achievements, and my husband is wrapping up his year-long administrative leadership training program, and considering potential career trajectories.

There was a lot accomplished in 2016, despite the year’s bad rap.

Still, I’m not sad to say goodbye to 2016.

 

 

2016 TriRock Austin Olympic Triathlon Race Recap

So how about that first Olympic triathlon?

Lessons learned:  1. I can do an Olympic triathlon, 2. I will never again put myself in a situation where I am racing for 3+ hours in 90 degree heat and 3. I am a sprinter, and my body is not happy with me when I try to pretend I am an endurance athlete.

But let me back up.

I think I was more nervous for this event than any other race, including my first half marathon, and first (sprint) triathlon. Not only did I start having waves of really strong anxiety beginning Friday morning, but I began having trouble engaging in casual conversation by Saturday night. At one point on Sunday, as I was once again giving monosyllabic answers to questions, my husband said, “So, uh, you’re kind of nervous for this race, huh?” I shut down when overwhelmed.

It’s not that I didn’t think I could do it, rather I knew how much it was going to hurt. The weather forecast showed it would be in the upper 80s by mid-morning when I would be running (with the heat index higher), and I have never raced that long. I trained in all 3 components, and did several BRICKS, but the actual Olympic distance in all 3, back to back? I am not a good runner under ideal circumstances. It was dread of the impending pain, rather than fear of actually failing.

I can take it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it (which begs the question why I decided this was a good idea in the first place, but whatever).

I also knew it would be a “big” race, meaning there would be a lot of athletes to contend with, and they would all be *racing*. Don’t misunderstand – this didn’t concern me on a “I won’t place well level” (I’m used to coming in somewhere in the middle to lower third for my big road races – I don’t enter races with delusions of grandeur), rather “I’m going to get in the way of people who should be on that course, and screw them up.” Remember how scared I was in the bike at my cute little local backyard event?

This fear was confirmed when I arrived at the mandatory bike check-in on Sunday afternoon, and saw thousands of bikes stretched across Auditorium Shores in Austin. This triathlon contained “3 races in 1” – the Olympic distance began at 7am, the sprint distance at 8:30am, and the super sprint at 9am. That’s a lot of athletes, going different distances, funneling through the same course.

The Olympic distance, as I soon learned in looking at the results (although I guessed as much beforehand) is for the more serious triathlete. Or middle aged moms of 3 who decide on a lark to make it their second race.

this is about 30 minutes before my wave hit the water. I’m smiling, but if you look closely, you can see the abject fear behind my eyes. 

The swim waves started at 7am; according to my Weather Channel app, sunrise occurred at 7:09am. The open water swim began with athletes jumping, one by one, off a dock into Lady Bird Lake to complete the 1 mile rectangle loop.

Lady Bird Lake. In the dark.

I don’t want to offend the people of Austin by saying their beloved lake is disgusting, but the muck don’t lie, people. The sun was rising by the time I leaped in (at approximately 7:35 – kudos to the Tri Rock people for such an organized wave start – exactly at the projected time!), but it was still a little…unsettling…for this open water swim rookie (only 1 practice swim under my belt).

Fortunately, once I hit the water, I went on automatic pilot and didn’t think about the water too much, with the exception of when we swam under the bridge and the water was pitch black and the air was pitch black and I sprinted while holding my breath and shutting my eyes because it was so scary.

I’m not lying.

My mantra as I swam was “not too fast not too fast not too fast” because I can swim fast and it’s fun to swim fast and pass people, but you don’t want to go too hard the first 25 minutes of a 3+ hour race.

Despite that, I was out of the water before any other hot pink caps (my age group) after passing several orange caps (women 35-39) and even some blue caps (men in the last wave before women).  This sounds badass. Remember that when we talk about the bike and run.

that’s me in the hot pink cap passing an orange cap and blue cap. This was roughly 50-75 yards from the finish (you see me passing the final orange buoy indicating finish area)

Swim split: 30:32 (exactly where I wanted to be. 3-4 minutes slower than I can race a 1500m, but given the current in the lake, and pacing for the bike and run after, that’s about where I planned to split).

Once out of the water, I had to run along a grass path, around to the Olympic transition area, and then allllllll the way down past racks and racks of bikes to mine (which was the closest rack to transition exit). This was a lot more running than my other sprint tri experience. I expected a poor transition time, given all the running (which I was doing at a very slow jog), and then I plopped down on the grass to put on my socks and sneakers (no fancy clip in pedals to slide into for this teacher mom!). Despite all of this, my T1 time was 2:35, which put me up with (or ahead of!) most of the women in my AG. I have no idea how I did all of that in only two and a half minutes, since I was not frantically rushing, but I’ll take it!

The bike. Oh, the bike.

I am still so slow on the bike. I really don’t get it. I mean, yes, I am showing improvement from when I started biking a mere 6 months ago. But still, I must be doing something wrong to go so slow. I was one of the slowest mph paces in my AG. Even the women that I beat, they were still 1 or 2 mph faster than me on the bike. I’ve played around with gears, and I did all my long bikes and mid-week shorter, faster mileage …

Anyway, let’s focus on the positives. Like, how I googled a tip for storing my GU gels in a rubber band tied around my bike frame, and when I hit the first corner, I heard a “plop”! and looked down … and realized I lost my GU on the street.

And then pointed it out to my husband as I passed him (you want the sound for this one).

fuel? Who needs fuel for an Olympic triathlon?!

Any time I’m on the bike and don’t crash, I count as a victory.

The course looped around downtown Austin, and to hit the 24.8 miles needed for the Olympic distance, we completed 4 loops. As we looped, the Sprint, and then Super Sprint distances, also joined us. As they said in our pre-race meeting, it was a “tight bike route”. That’s tri talk for: watch out, there’s a crapload of cyclists out there.

The best moment of the entire race (maybe even better than finally crossing the finish line) occurred towards the beginning of the 2nd loop. I’m pedaling along, courteously staying to the right as fast, talented cyclists blew by me, when a young guy (20s?) passed me, then turned, pointed right at me, made eye contact, and called out “I hope I’m just like you in my 40s! BADASS!” (remember, per triathlon rules, we have our ages marked on our left calves).

I’m pretty sure he was just trying to keep my spirits up since I’m sure I looked ridiculously slow and tired, but it TOTALLY WORKED YES I AM BADASS SIR!

Bike split: 1:36.11  avg speed: 15.47mph 

As I returned my bike to the transition area, I realized that my initial plan to not need a water bottle on the run (relying solely on aid stations) was very, very stupid. It was creeping towards 10am at this point, and it was hot and while I drank most of my (1) water bottle while on the bike, I was still feeling dehydrated.

10k left. 6.2 miles. Are. you. kidding. me.

My game plan was to follow a 3/1 run-walk interval. While I can comfortably run 6+ miles, I knew that running 6+ miles after racing for 2 hours would prove nearly impossible under the best of circumstances. In training, I discovered that I could pace somewhere around a 11:15 min/mile while doing the 3/1 intervals on tired legs, and I would be happy with that for the third leg of my triathlon.

Because of the simultaneous sprint and super-sprint distance races occurring, the run was set up in a 3.1 mile loop. That means for us doing the Olympic distance, we not only had to pass the finish line (cue the agonizing, longing glance in that direction) and complete another loop, but the (much fresher, less exhausted) short distance triathletes were on the same trail as us, happily bouncing by us. Or at least, it seemed that way.

I plugged away at the first loop, doggedly picking up the pace to a slow jog with every beep of my watch. It was so hot. The little half cups of lukewarm water at the mile stations were not refreshing.

Come on Tracey. You can do this.

Mile 1: 10:31 (that a girl!)

Mile 2: 11:25 (okay, on pace, that’s okay, just keep this up)

Mile 3: 12:07 (oh dear)

As I began the second loop, many runners around me were now walking. I have never seen such a staggering group of exhausted athletes in a race. I tried giving myself pep talks. I did my mantras. I sang Beyonce’s Lemonade album to myself. When my watch beeped, I sternly said to my legs “run!”

They did not run.

does that look like a woman that got this? No. Not it does not. I do not got this.

Mile 4: 13:47

Mile 5: 15:15

Mile 6: 14:22

Final run split: 1:19:54 (please God, let this be the slowest 10k I ever “run”)

if you watch closely, you can see me trip and recover as I enter the finishing chute. 

Because even if you place 15th out of 20 in your AG, you still get a medal (there were some HARDCORE athletes in this race!). And still feel proud for doing the damn race in the first place. 

Final thoughts: If I ever had any fleeting notions of doing a Half Ironman, this race settled those questions. This race was miserable (physically and emotionally) for me. Yes, it was a hot race, and I don’t do well in heat. Yes, my fueling and hydrating was compromised (from now on, GU gels are stuck in my tri suit. And there will be an extra water bottle laid out just for the run). But really, that 2nd half of the 10k was just demoralizing. I can’t even imagine what a half marathon would feel like after DOUBLE that bike (and oh, the bike. *shakes fist at cheap Schwinn*).

Will I do another Olympic tri? I don’t know. Part of me thinks I should just focus on sprint tris (which are fun. And so quick! And short!), but part of me does not want my one and only Olympic tri time to be 3:31. I’m better than that. Or I want to be better than that.

I’ll play next year’s tri season by ear and see what comes up.

at Kerbey Lane Cafe for a MUCH deserved post-race meal. With my medal. Natch.