The following is offered as consolation for those who think they're dumber than me.

So, Tiger Lily and I are cycling on Old Route 66 east of Albuquerque and we're headed back in, and at one point she motions to a fork in the road ahead. "See where it splits over there? We're going to the left."
Left. She said LEFT.
She it loudly, and clearly.

"Okay," I said. Because I had heard her, loudly and clearly, say LEFT.

And here's what my brain decided, as it listened to her and looked at the split in the road, was:
We're going THIS way.because this way is left.

Yeah.

So I took off - I was in the zone......speeding along, legs pumping, and I headed right at the split, just like my brain said to do, I was thinking, "this must lead up over to Tramway Road."

Then, Holy. Cow. I was thinking, as several cars and motorcycles went by me at a high rate of speed.
There is a LOT of traffic out today, I thought, as I sped up. The road became beautiful, clean, and even.

What a great road, I thought as I sped along on the nice, clean, even shoulder surface.

A semi sped by me, leaving a gusting wake.

Goodness! why, this road is practically a FREEWAY!

Just then, my phone rang.

Annoyed, I reached for it. At first, I couldn't quite make out what she was saying, from the noise of the traffic.

Then I finally heard it, "YOUR OTHER LEFT! COME BACK!
YOU'RE ON THE FREEWAY!"

oH. $#it.

Which is what I almost did, when I realized where I was.

So, okay - if you did something really dumb today, or hell, this week, this might make you feel better.

No need to thank me. It's what I'm here for:

Random stuff.

Today's LOLCat picture is for Pirate. -->

So today, I went on about an 11 or 12 mile LSSR. (Long, slow, sweaty run). I'm not sure about the distance because for some reason Msr. GarMEAN wouldn't turn on, so I just ran for about 2-1/2 hours. Slow. Sweaty. It was in the mid-seventies when I started, and low eighties when I finished.

The spaghetti I ate last night seems to have helped, because I felt pretty good. I also started the day off with a Power Bar. For some reason, it takes about a half hour for me to eat these things, which appear to be combination of cement and various sugars. I made the mistake of setting an unwrapped one down on my kitchen counter, 5 minutes, tops. Then, I couldn't get it back up.

I finally pulled it off the counter, leaving parts of it behind. I tried scraping it off with a knife, until Baboo finally expressed concern that I was removing countertop instead of removing the Power Bar. Finally a combination of a Formula 409 soak and scouring pad got it up, and am I crazy for worrying that something I'm EATING is that hard to remove from a Formica countertop?

I drank some Accelerade on the run, and stupidly, only took one bottle. I did surprisingly well, though, and chose a way back that was mostly in the shade, but when I got back to the car, I gulped down the other bottle so hard and fast it was running out of my mouth and down my chin. Then I took a cold bath and ate some leftover spaghetti.

Sweet Baboo and many other Outlaws went out for a 100 mile bike ride.

100 mile. Bike. Ride.

Hey, are you coming?

Uh, NO, Thanks. I'll pass, thanks. I'm doing a 40 mile tomorrow. But hey, don't use up all the fun, okay?

When I got home, I looked up problems with Garmin online, and then licked my finger and ran it over the contacts on the back. Then, it worked. Magic mom spit. It ain't just for faces anymore.

Anway, I'm tired. Mini-Baboo comes back from 6 weeks in Dallas today, and I have to put all the passwords and locks back in everything and then take a nap.

...

How not to recover from an Ironman PSA.

Well, in the past two weeks since Iron man, I've run 15 miles, biked about 45 miles, and swum about 2000 meters. Not all at once. it was spread out over mostly this week.

I was surprised to find, as the week went on, I just wore flat down. This morning I swam for about 30 minutes at Lake Cochiti - which, FYI, is warm enough at 65 degrees to eschew the wetsuit and wear my point zero3 fastskin instead - and then went for a 2 mile run afterwards.
Did you read what I just wrote? A TWO. MILE. RUN.

And I was barely able to keep running.

True, the first mile was all uphill, but still: barely able to keep running. Tired legs. Breathless. I complained to Baboo about it and he quizzed me about what I'd been doing this week. Finally, he said, "You can't recover from an Ironman AND be on a diet. You need more carbs." I looked that up and, as usual, he's right:

According to this website, factors that can slow recovery include these that I've been doing for the past two weeks:
* Delay in intake of carbohydrate after exercise.
* Inadequate amounts of carbohydrate.
* Reliance on carbohydrate-rich foods with a low glycemic index.
* High-intensity exercise during recovery.

Oooo. There's that whole "high intensity" thing. For me, most of the time I'm moving I'm honestly going as fast as I can; running any slower would be, well, walking. Or standing still. So, yes, I've been running "hard" and biking "hard". Breathlessly. And drinking sugar-free drinks.

And little did I know, that even though my weight was dropping, I was depriving myself of much-needed carbs that I needed for recovery. I wasn't having problems when I was training with this system, and I figured recovery would be the same.

So well, now I know. I'm eating a large bowl of spaghetti and I have a 12-mile flat run tomorrow, so we'll see how I do. I'll fuel with sports drinks and gels and stop starving myself, at least this week. I've reset my WeightWatcher's Online points thingy to "maintenance"(you can do that) just until after this next half iron, and then I'll carefully go back into weight loss mode after that.


...

Ironman: What it means to me now.

I guess everyone has something different that their goal means to them...and different goals that are meaningful.

I mentioned before that I had a voice that had been dogging me for most of my adult life...I think that to some degree, a lot of people have little nagging voices. It's just that for some of us, the voices are louder. Some people can drown out their bad thoughts with a 5K. For me, it took several marathons, a second master's degree, and a second Ironman.
Whew! That was a loud, incessant voice.

A loud voice that sounded a lot like my Dad.
But anyway.

So now what? Well, now, when I hesitate at some task, my brain pokes as me, but only when I'm not doing what I should be doing. It says things like, Hey, you did an ironman, remember? You can do this. For instance, I got a mammogram after putting it off for three years. I told myself, "Why do I keep putting this off? I've run 3 marathons in the past year, and I can't get some dinky mammogram?" So then I got the mammogram.

As it turns out, a mammogram is a lot easier than running a marathon.

So yesterday I was doing a 5 mile run. Okay, so it was a 4.8 mile run. Whatever. Anyway, one of my favorite routes is very hilly. There's about .25 mile of flat, the rest is uphill or downhill, and it's an out-and-back. My legs are still a bit tired, I think, and as I was climbing up the longest climb my legs were achy and draggy and I was breathless. I stopped and walked for a bit.

Then, Hey, walking girl! You did an ironman. This is an 8K. You can run this!

This happens a lot now. Things I used to put off doing I just go ahead and do them. Even mundane things are affected. Writing papers for school. Defrosting the refrigerator. Whatever.

Nothing seems hard now. Make no mistake about it; I'm Still. Lazy. but my procrastination is less frought with fear than it used to be.

And that voice? Well, it sounds remarkably like my voice now.

...

First half of the year down.

It's July 2nd, which means that half the year has passed. I set some goals at the beginning of the year, and wanted to assess how I was doing. Here's my totals so far for 2008:

2008 totals
Bike:	1,263.7 Mi
Run:	430.86 Mi
Swim:	34910 M
Strength:	2h 30m
Hiking:	2h 00m
Pilates:	4h 30m

Here's how I'm doing on my 2008 goals so far.
☐ Means that I've made progress, ☑ means I reached it, and ☒ means I haven't really started yet.


☑ 1. Become a "marathon maniac" this year.

☑ 2. Do a 50K run this year.

☑ 3. Finish Ironman Coeur D'Alene before midnight, without crying.

☒ 4. Get down to about 150 pounds. (68 kg or 10.7 stone) Current weight: 156. and holding steady.

☐ 5. Get my professional counselor's license.

☒ 6. I resolve to lower the amount of fat in my diet. On the short list of things that must be avoided: Cheap nachos.

☐ 7. Run a sub-10-minute pace on a 5K. Current per mile pace (5k) PR: 10:16

☑ 8. Bring my run volume up to at least 20 miles a week, 3 weeks/month.

☒ 9. Clean out the den/study.

☑ 10. Write more silly haikus. Here's one, for Tea:

Ah, the Ironman!
Cheering crowds, gels, gatorade,

and golden showers!

☑ 11. I will not consume wheat grass juice and chlorella.

☑ 12. Quit complaining about my job or get another job. I resigned from my teaching position, and am now waiting for the state of New Mexico to issue my provisional mental health counselor's license and my ticket to take the NCE.

☐ 13. Talk more like a grownup. Cha, I'm like, TOtally grown up. And stuff.

☐ 14. Be a better person, make the world a better place.

...

July 1st.

Happy Anniversary, Sweet Baboo:

He who is my finder of lost things, and buyer of things sparkly and perfumey, and (and now, buyer of all things that for me that help me go fast ) has put up with me for eight years now.
That's no small feat, believe you me.

Right now, he's listening to "Polonaise" with great enjoyment. When I hear it, I think of BugsBunny. Some of you know what I'm talkin' about. Yeah. You do.

I lose my stuff constantly. He finds what he can, and replaces and insures the rest.

He's very neat, and tidy. I'm, well, not.

He's quiet, calm. I'm noisy. Frantic.

Yet somehow, it works, and it works very well.

Here's last year's anniversary post. Longer. Mushier. Uncut.

...

Misc. Monday stuff.

I'm like, the last person on earth to discover the LOL cats thing, soooooo I'll be annoying lots of you by putting those in my posts, for a while.

This week has been all about reclaiming the house. Since mini-Baboo has been in Dallas since May 21st we've been at work cleaning out the dirty clothes and wrappers and empty bottles stuffed into every nook and cranny.

MEANWHILE, with Mini-baboo gone, food lasts a LONG TIME without Mini here. Who knew, for instance, that salad greens got that funky after sitting in the fridge for a while? Mini usually helped prevent funky leftovers, by eating everything in sight. I think I've mentioned this before, but I'm still blown away by the loaf of bread that lasted TWO WHOLE WEEKS.

You know, I've been raising kids--three of them--since I was 19, and so I have never, ever, lived in my own home as an adult without children. I'm accustomed to hiding my food and putting passwords and key locks on everything, and my things being taken and/or broken and "nobody" knows how it happened and I swear, Mom! I wasn't anywhere near that when it fell!

So but, you can see that the prospect of my last born graduating and moving on in 11 months is pretty exciting.

This week, I took an old computer and with a flat-screen monitor and fixed it up--I'll leave out the geekiest parts of what I did--and it now sits in the area adjacent to the kitchen, and I can listen to nearly any music my widdle heart desires while cooking or exercising, or watch re-runs of "Scrubs," or "CSI," or look for a recipe or get information information about stretching online, all with a click of my cordless mouse.

I can also watch movies or exercise DVDs on it.

Or all of these at once.

Fabulous.

I especially love having playlists I can listen to on a whim because it is my opinion that life should be like a movie, with the appropriate background music enhancing the scene. This, then, is my only complaint about triathlon: No headphones means I can't further the delusion that I am a star in my own movie.

Meanwhile, I'm working on clearing out a den-like room that is currently full--and I do mean full: of many, many boxes--of my teaching supplies. After that's done, it will become the exercise area. We've decided we want the rest of the whole downstairs to just be full of comfortable chairs, like a giant coffee house, for lounging and whatnot. It won't be terribly impressive or wind up in any magazine. That's not the point. The point is a respite from the world.

Our plans for Mini-baboos area upstairs after May of 09 includes blackout curtains, a kitchenette, and a large, flatscreen TV.

Not really much triathlon stuff in this post, is there? Well, it's back to training tomorrow.

Oh, and here's my monthly miles for June:

Swim: 14,180 meters
Bike: 334.6 miles
Run: 64.38 miles
Hiking: 2 hours
Pilates/Yoga: 4 hours


...

Maybe it's just me...

I think I look just a wee bit thinner when I put my Ironman Loo and Ironman CD'A pictures side-by-side.

IM Bike, 2007, and 2008:


Marathon walk/run, 2007 and then 2008:


I certainly look more energetic. A bit less pained, at my finish this year:


Maybe, some day, I can finish without one of those glow-in-the-dark necklaces on.

This weekend, I did a 30 mile bike and an 8 mile run. Both felt pretty good. I'm getting ready for Barb's race, a coupla sprints, and to pace Sweet Baboo for 30 miles of his first 100-miler.

And, as always, I have to ask myself......I wonder what else I can do?

...

Watching my peeps at BSLT 70.3

I'm checking on my friend Cindy, and fellow Outlaws Mo, Wiz, Michi, MuffinMan, and of course Pirate. What is up with Athlete tracker? Sometimes it will refuse to load a page and tell me that the athlete doesn't exist. Aggghh! How do you guys stand this?

The athlete tracker at Ironman 70.3 Buffalo Springs Lake is giving me progress on my peeps at BSLT. This is a tough race! I've done the Tri-Raider sprint twice that goes on at the same time, and I've twice done the Buffman and Squeaky Olympic that uses part of the same course, but haven't yet brought myself to do this 70.3. I'm planning on doing it next year for their 20th anniversary. Anyway.
The race starts in a cold, spring-fed lake. The bike begins uphill, with an 8% or 9% climb out the canyon, then has several descents and climbs into and out of a other canyons. The run includes a climb out of Buffalo Springs Canyon and a long out-and-back on a hot, unshaded stretch of asphalt nick-named, "the energy lab". BSLT also offers and an aquabike and a relay on the 70.3 course. ( I wish they had a splash 'n' dash. I'd do that in a heartbeat.)
The atmosphere is fantastic, like a giant party. Everyone calls you "girl" (if you're a woman) and Mike and Marty keep the finish line open for everyone making progress. After you cross the finish line you walk about 50 yards to sit down on a boat ramp in cold lake water and have cold beer and pizza. (In Texas, you always start a race with a prayer and finish with cold beer.)

=================
Update: 1.2 mile Swim times!
Cindy 44:07
Mo 39:54
Wiz 37:23
Pirate 44:24
Michi 42:53
MuffinMan: 35:17

=================
Update: 31 mile bike splits!
Cindy: 2:29:24 (All that training is paying off!)
Mo: 2:35:28 (Great job, Mo!)
Wiz: 2:16:58 (Wiz is having a good day so far!)
Pirate: 2:28:02 (the bike is Pirate's forte)
Michi: 2:30:45 (Michi is having a good day so far!)
MuffinMan: 2:07:07 (Smokin'!)

================
Update: Thunderstorm! It's raining on the course
with Winds E @13mph!!

70°F Humidity: 87% YIKES!

• Will they be able to finish the race???
• Will the race be canceled?
• AGGGGHHHHH!

================
Update, 11:21 am Texas time
Muffinman has finished the bike. His time was 3:07:21, averaging 17.93 mph! I was worried that everyone had been pulled of the course because of the Thunderstorm. GAWD that would SUCK! But now that MuffinMan is showing a final bike time, I have hope that Cindy will get to finish her first half iron.

================
Update: Final Bike Times:
Cindy: 4:07:19 (13.59 mph)
Mo: 3:52:51 (14.43 mph)
Wiz: 3:19:55 (16.81 mph)
Pirate: 4:01:24 (13.92 mph)
Michi: 3:42:48 (15.09 mph)
MuffinMan: 3:07:21 (17.93 mph)

Let's have a virtual round of applause for these athletes who rode their bikes on a demanding, hilly course through a thunderstorm!

========================
Update: 1:01, Texas Time. Run split1, most websites say that it's no longer raining there, just really humid (but overcast, thank goodness.)
approximately 6.55 miles into the run course, these are their paces for the first half, to be updated as they come in:
Cindy: 11:37 min/mile
Mo: 10:55 min/mile
Wiz: 10:06 min/mile
Pirate: 10:59 min/mile
Michi: 9:45 min/mile
MuffinMan: 8:48 min/mile

=========================
Update: MuffinMan is done, with a total time of 5:44:26. His run pace stayed the same throughout the half marathon portion.

=========================
Update: 1:54 pm, Texas Standard Time (TST) Wiz is done, with a total time of 6:26:15. Interesting story, that "Wiz" nickname. ( I'll let him tell it, if he ever puts his blog back up.)

=========================
Update at 2:28, TST. Michi and Mo are both done. Michi's time was 6:45:09, and Mo's time was 7:03:43. Good job, ladies! Make sure you go over to Mo's website and congratulate her!

=========================
Update, 2:47, TST. I'm pretty sure Cindy and Pirate are done, but stupid Athlete Tracker isn't updating. Twiddle, twiddle, twiddle. ...wonder what's over at LOLCATS today...

=========================

Update: 2:57, TST: Cindy and Pirate are both done. Cindy's time was 7:31:15, and Pirate's time was 7:20:12. Now go on over to their website and congratulate them on this very difficult half-iron!

=========================

This has been your 70.3 announcer, Iron Misty Geekgirl. OUT!

.....


...

Thought for the Day.

Some photos.

All photos (C) ASI, Inc. (They'll be getting my order soon!)

I'm the one in the middle.

Does anyone ever take a good swim exit photo?

See...I told you I was happy on the run!

Now what...?

Thank you for joining the
Ford Ironman 2008 Arizona
VOLUNTEER TEAM.

If this is a new registration, an email confirmation will be sent shortly. If you have added a job area to an existing registration you will not receive another email. Please keep your current ID number for future reference. Jobs are subject to availability and you will be contacted when assignments have been determined.

=====================================================

Now, why would I be interested in volunteering at inaugural November 2008 Ironman Arizona? Sure, Sweet Baboo will be doing this one...along with many Outlaw buds...
I hear it's FLATTER than Couer D'Alene and Kentucky...and, of course, it is a race that sells out fast...
didja know volunteers get to sign up first for an Ironman, before the general public?

Hmmm...

Coeur D'Alene Ironman Race Report, P2

There's no pictures. Sorry! As soon as ASI posts them I'll be buying them, trust me, and posting them. If they make me all cute and stuff, that is. But anyway. Part 2: So, the run.

So, in T2, I put on my injinji socks, running shoes, running hat, RaceReady LD compression shorts, took some SportLegs, my bottle of hydrade and headed out. I was looking forward to the run. I assumed it would be flat.

I assumed wrong.

The race numbers they gave us has one with our first name on it, which I wore on the run. The result was that total strangers read it and cheered calling out my name. It was awesome, like being a celebrity. I highly recommend having your name somewhere on you when doing an endurance event. When you feel like you haven't got anything left, hearing someone call your name is a real shot in the arm.

I headed out onto a brief 2-3 mile out and back on the first loop and came upon a screaming group of Bloggers, including Duane, Di, and many others. That was pretty awesome! Then I came up on Sweet Baboo, who gave me a big wet kiss. Then I saw Mike, Maria, and several others throughout; since each part of the loop was an out-and-back I had many opportunities to see all my friends (who are, quite clearly, much faster than I!) including SW TriGal and Bigun.

The run wasn't that bad for a marathon, but when that marathon comes at the end of an Ironman any hill you encounter is pretty unwelcome. The big hill was at mile 8 on the first loop, and mile 21 on the second. It is long and steep and banked sharply so you feel unnervingly like one of your legs is shorter than the other. So, you march up the hill to a timing mat, watching your average pace climb as you climb the hill.

On marathons, I hit the wall around mile 16 and recover around mile 21. I'm tired, my stomach is feeling funky, and I'm sick of PowerGels. Then, a new sensation: Around mile 16, I suddenly felt like the ground was very far away and that I was very tall and running on stilts. I started giggling and realized I was a little delirious so I started taking salty broth and an ice-cold coke from every other aid station. That lit a fire under me after mile 21, and then I started running 2 minutes and walking 1. By now it was getting dark, and I took the glow-necklace they offered me.

Did you know: people late in the night at the back of the pack in an Ironman marathon are surprisingly un-chatty. This I've discovered. I would run up on someone, and start talking to them, and they grunt and just continue forward in a slow, shuffling walk. Then my watch would chime and I would run away.

My marathon time was 6:05. My Kentucky marathon was around 6:20, so I took 15 minutes off.I wish I had more drama to add, but I had a great run. I got a little tired and slow during my crash but came right back after the coke and broth. I never reached the dark, dismayed and lonely places that I reached in Kentucky. All the little nagging thoughts about how much I suck came out to play a little while I was on the bike, but then they went away as I cruised into T2, and they never came back.

As I came in toward the finish, I decided I wanted a good, strong finish, and a decent finish picture. I tried spacing myself between large groups of people who that I would be coming in by myself.

A mile out, I was choking back tears, because I was so happy...it was only about 11:00 and I knew that I would definitely make my goal. I slowed down a bit to save up for a run at the finish line. Then as I approached the arch, I saw Duane, who was yelling that I was going to beat the moon! Then, I saw Baboo with a big grin on his face running along the side with me, yelling at me that I had killed it.

Then, I was in the finishing chute running like crazy and I slapped hands with all the people leaning out and sticking their hands out and cheering. I knew that I had bested my time at IM Louisville by a little over an hour. I knew I had a big grin on my face. I couldn't stop smiling. It was an awesome moment!

Pirate and 21st Century Mom were there to catch me, and I was all giggly. I'd used up everything I had left, so when I stumbled a bit they walked me to the medical tent. Pirate said I was "loopy" but I remember just being just really, really happy. There was no more pizza (dammit) prompting me to create Iron Misty's new rule:

If you earn 114 (that's right, 114) weight-watchers exercise points in one day
doing an Ironman, they will not expire at Midnight.
You can spend some the next day, too.
And maybe the day after that.

And yes, in case you were wondering, this one "took". The naggy little voice is gone.

So do I do this? What do I get out of it?

Well, for me, part of it is the brush with greatness. I have to say, when you're doing an Ironman event, they make you feel like, well, like a pro. First off, what other sport is there where you can race side by side with pros? And have them pee on you?

Sure, everyone is passing me, and I'm at the back of the pack. But then there's the cheering crowds: One is reminded, even if slow, that s/he is still doing something that few people ever try to do. And, even when your family even forgets what day the Ironman is on, after all the hard work there are total strangers standing around screaming like crazy, acknowledging your effort.

I have to say, well, it's quite a rush.

And then there is the boost to my self esteem that comes from knowing that I worked hard for it. Yes, it pays to have nice equipment, but even the nicest equipment won't make up for bad training. I know this from being left in the dust by guys riding mountain bikes wearing baggy t-shirts and shorts who were better trained than I.
Of course, it goes without saying that I couldn't have done this without Coach Baboo, Cindy, and all the people who've been encouraging me all this time.

But it's back to reality now. I jogged slowly down the hall this morning about 10 am to get my free hotel breakfast, and my legs and feet were like, ARE YOU MAKING US JOG? NOW? ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING ME?
Sadly, I didn't make it. The hotel had stopped the free breakfast at 9:30.

Bastards.

...

A Beautiful Day - CDA Race report, P1

Bad Internet here. It's taking me a while to get this posted. I took a hot soak this morning in the hotel here in Fruita and did a body inventory to answer the question So, body, how we doin'?

Left foot, A blister on my middle and "index" toe. Small ones. Oh, and blisters? After they pop? Don't like hot water. Ow. Right foot, very small blisters on the same two toes. These blisters all occurred on the bike. I did not wear my sexy toe socks on the bike, but I will next time. Bottom of right foot: very tender spot in the ball of my foot that probably would have become a blister had I continued to insult it by running amok in Cordy Lane.

Calves: no problems. I attribute that to all the trail and hill running I did this spring. Quads: mildly pissed off, but very bearable. Much less stiff and tender than after other endurance events.
Skin: Very, very mild pinkness. I rubbed in sun screen, spf 80, the night BEFORE the race and again the morning of, and then got sprayed with it after the swim. Sweet Baboo had read that sunburn speeds up dehydration by messing with your skin's ability to breathe and perspire properly, or something like that. I was pretty badly burned at IM Loo last year, so I was taking no chances. Otherwise, I've discovered some new places to chaffe. Will be addressing this problem with lots and lots of Baby Aveeno next time prior to getting on the bike!

Chest: achy. I have asthma, and whenever I go short on sleep, my chest aches and I wheeze a little.
Lower back: Achy. Nothing that some stretching and a nice long Hatha Yogurt class (I always call my yoga class my "yogurt" class) won't fix. And a message. The rubbing kind, not the voice kind.

So, okay. My race report. Here I'll talk about the swim and the bike. Here's some mood music for you:


SWIM

Well, my swim was about what I expected it to be, given that it was colder and I. Am. Lazy. I really blew off my swim training this spring, because I wanted to focus on the run and the bike. I will be refocusing on the swim because of the unexpected results: It wasn't just that I was slow, but I became mired in a thrash-fest of other slow swimmers from which I was unable to extracate myself for nearly an hour. I know, I know: that sounds mean. But it's the truth. When the cannon went off, I had counted to ten, to let the more aggressive swimmers get in and avoid getting pummeled in the process, and every time I do this I get stuck in a human washing machine.

Next time, I'm not only going to train, but I'm going to put my goggles on under my cap and take my chances with the fast folks.

I've never really done the mass start that is so indicative of the Ironman. So the cannon went off!! I counted to ten, and then ran and dove in. In such a swim, all you hear is splashing. All you see is arms! I found myself trapped in a human washing machine of people who started side-stroking, breast-stroking, and one guy was dog-paddling, and this was before the first loop was even half over. Eventually, I was able to make a space for myself and start swimming properly, and finished the first loop in about 45 minutes. Yay!

then as I finished the first loop I was surprised at how people walked slowly and casually over the timing mat and then slowly over to get back into the water. WTF? I had to weave in and out them to get back to the water, where I dove back in. On the second loop, a wind had come up, starting some wave action on the water, blowing waves at me, which was a bit disorienting. I was bobbing up and down even as I tried to swim forward.

Also, for some reason, the kayakers had gathered near the end buoys, blocking them. Not sure what that was all about. But at least at this point I had a nice open space to swim in, even if I was getting bored and tired of swimming. The second loop took nearly an hour for me! I finished the swim and exited, running to t1 and the bike.

BIKE

Hmmm. What can I say about the bike? Well, I can say this:

• The really big hills are between mile 22 and 44 (first loop) and 78 and 100 (second loop)
• There aren't quite as many as there were as there were at Kentucky, but the hills are looooooonger and steeeeeeeper. Like, over 6% steep.
  
• On the first loop, the hill are "challenging".
  
• On the second loop, the hills take away your will to live.

The first loop I was having a good time. I was smiling and thinking, this is a great! This is a great life.
What a beautiful day!
I am a lucky woman.
I was singing U2's "Beautiful Day" to myself. What beautiful country! What friendly citizens! Seriously, the people I encountered on the course were amazing: enthusiastic and friendly, right up until the end. I pulled over once to let the large fly or bee or whatever had found its way into my helmet out, but otherwise stayed on the bike until around mile 60, when I finally got off and hit the porta-potty. I had my brush with greatness when, predictably, the pros blew by me early in the loop.

There are some pretty cool downhills! I went down them full tilt, my aero helmet making a really cool train-like noise that only I could hear. After a while, I started yelling choo choo on my downhills. (Like all things southern, I sounded just like a freight train.) At one point, I hit 41 miles per hour. At mile 30-something, there was a timing mat, and I started imagining good energy from my blogger buds coming at me whenever I heard the beep as I went over timing mats for the rest of the course.

On the way back into town, between mile 44 and 56, there was wind In. My. Face. That sapped some energy, but I was half expecting it, having talked to a couple locals before the race. As I rounded the halfway point, I sort of high-fived myself, because I knew I had passed the cutoff. It was only about 12:30, I think. I went by the bloggy peeps cheering section and heard my name being yelled. Awesome!

Then I hit the second loop. Not. So. Great. I was almost crying but mostly just muttering and swearing to myself. It's pretty clear that my bike needs work. My quads are weak. I hate hill work, and it shows. I was getting tired pretty fast and, and no longer singing "Beautiful Day". My chain kept jumping off my cassette and lodging between the casette and the tire - the first time I was able to pedal backwards and move it back out, but the second time I had to get off the bike and get my hands greasy. I need to have that looked at.

I was stopping halfway up some of the hills just to let my breathing slow down. By the time I hit mile 80, I was pretty convinced that I wouldn't make it, and I was pissed.

But for me, pissed works. "Pissed " raises my ire and makes me work harder. By mile 90, my will had come back and I calculated that I might make it. By this time, though, I wasn't smiling so much. I was grumbling and asking myself why on earth do I do this $hit? What is WRONG with me? Normal people are canning, or watching TV, or something. And here I am paying someone to put myself through this crap.
I kept stopping on the way up the hills to give my quads a brief respite and let my breathing slow.

By mile 100, I knew I would make it so I decided to see if I could hit T2 by 5 pm. The wind had died down some, so I was able to make some good time coming back in. I was smiling again, and singing something. When I hit mile 100, and crested the last hill, there was a short flat sorta downhillish ride to an intersection, where there was a guy standing there directing us back toward town, and he said, "It's all flat after this!"
I flew by shaking my finger at him laughing and smiling, yelling, Don't tease me!

I hit t2 and was pretty happy, although tired. I was done with hills and bikes and even though I had discovered some new girl places to chaffe (eek) I felt pretty good.

I knew that I had nearly 7 hours to finish before Midnight, but I was hoping to finish before 11:23, you know, beat the moon. I left T2 around 5:09, I think, considerably faster than at Kentucky. I had finished my bike about 50 minutes faster than I had at Kentucky. I was feeling pretty good, and happy, because now I get to run! (How weird is that?) My right foot hurt like hell, but as soon as I took my bike shoes off and walked on it, it stopped.

Okay. I'm going to lay down some more and rest. I'll write about the run later, after coffee and some red bulls.

...

Apparently, that training $hit works.

Here's my results so far, compared to last year's IMLoo

OVERALL FINISHING TIME
CordyLane: 16:13
IMLoo: 17:19
(1 hour, 6 minutes faster)

RANK
CordyLane: 1869/1943 total, 97/137 of Women 40-44
IMLoo: Official last finisher. Of the entire thing.

SWIM
CordyLane: 1:40
IMLoo: 1:31
(9 minutes slower)

T1
CordyLane: 7:38
IMLoo:11:31
(Almost 4 minutes faster)

Bike
CordyLane: 8:09
IMLoo: 8:55
(46 minutes faster)

T2
CordyLane: 10:31
IMLoo: 20:08
(almost 10 minutes faster - it saves time not to sit down and cry in transition, I've found.)

Difficult, difficult race. Very comparable to Kentucky.

Thanks SO MUCH for all the well wishes.

I was imagining each time I rode or ran over a timing mat that all your positive energy was represented in that little beeping noise!

More tomorrow...
after I sleep some more. The only thing keeping me awake right now is that an equally tired Baboo occasionally hitting rumble strips on the highway.


...

Iron drama queen.

Ironman CDA is coming for me, roaring down on me.

I would be remiss to say that, obviously, I just want to finish IM-CDA. But there's a little more to it than that. See, the thing is, most of my life I've managed AD/HD. When you grow up with it, you acquire a lot of little demons. They whisper things at you when you're at your most vulnerable. Lazy. Incompetent.
Scatter-brained.

Most of my life, I've been chased by one little demon in particular: one that whispers in my ear:
You just got lucky.

When I got my first degree, I remember thinking, boy, I was lucky that the professors all liked me! There's other examples, but it's not useful to write about them. The result of all of it is that I make the following attribution to my achievements: If I did it, it can't be that hard or I just got by, or it was easy that day etc. etc. etc.

Triathlon is the first thing I've ever been able to do that was all me, no luck involved, and it's been great for my self esteem. It doesn't matter who you know. You do the work, and finish, or you don't, and then you don't.

But then, last year at Ironman Louisville last they extended the finishing time by 37 minutes. My finishing time, 17:19, the last official finisher. And there was the little demon again, whispering: Boy, lucky for you they extended that cutoff.

I've never admitted it, but that's bothered me a bit. Yes, I finished. Yes, I followed all the rules. But since my issue is 'getting by' it's pushed a very big button.

Lucky for you... lucky...

and all this goes back to the sneaking suspicion that really, I'm just not all that special, and

one of these days, everyone will know it. They'll all find out. Then they'll all know the truth.

There are cutoffs halfway on the bike, and the run. They aren't any different from the cutoffs I would have imposed on myself. But there they are, gnashing their teeth at me. Beat me! Beat me!

This time there will be no time extension by which I can hedge my bets. If I don't make the cutoffs (1:30 pm, pacific time, for the first bike loop; 5:30 for the end of the bike; 9 pm for the 1st run loop) then I'm done.

But if, when, I do make it, then I've really made it. Maybe the whispering, naggy self-doubt will stop. I guess. Now, I know before you tell me that all this sounds really, really stupid: I'm still me, whether I finish or not. But you know, we all have our demons, our buttons, and issues, and now I've told you mine.

I'm going to get up tomorrow and walk into the lake in Coeur D'Alene Idaho and head out, and try to beat the moon, and go Ironman a second time.

As Commodore says, this one Ironman doesn't doesn't define me.
It is nevertheless very important to me. More than I want to admit. So, In addition to my somewhat lacksadaisical training and legendary stubbornness and the many, many phantom pains I've dicovered that come an go right before a race, I'll take onto the course all the best of my friends to sustain me, including:

Pirate's Pragmaticism.
Duane's Hope.
Mary's Spirit.
Stronger's Strength.
Cody's Optimism.
AndraSue's determinism.
Cindy's encouragement.
Sweet Baboo's love.

This will be my last post until after the race.

BEAT THE MOON!!!!

...

Iron Buttah.

To the water's edge
All the iron lemmings drew
And froze their butts off.

I did a 20-minute swim in water with Greyhound and Baboo, so smooth, so calm, that sighting was accomplished without even lifting my nose out of the water. I was oh, so slow but felt good. Swimming in water like this, albeit 56 degrees, was like BUTTAH. I wore a snug-fitting l/s shirt under my wetsuit, which seemed to increase my comfort without slowing me down too much. Today's water temp: 56 degrees. TOTALLY doable. All I'm worried about, as usual, is the bike.

Last night I had dinner at a place called Capones and met so many bloggers that I hope I don't leave anyone out: In attendance were Tea, Momo, Iron Eric, Greyhound, Blink, Neoprene Wedgie, SWTriGal, Big'un, Di, Tac Boy, Spokane Al, Supalinds, and many, many more, and many wonderful Iron mates and kiddos.

Beat the moon!

...