High Notes

My son and I both faced our last races of 2015 this past week. It's hard to believe the season is over- it seems like not too long ago I was trying to make decisions about which races to sign up for, and now they are all behind me.


It's been a hell of a year.

There have been ups and there have been downs, but that is to be expected with any long-term goals. Mostly, there has been a lot of sweat and blisters. And when I take a look at what I actually accomplished this year, I have to take a moment and pat myself on the back:

I completed three triathlons this year, which is one more than last year.
Two of the three were longer distances than I had done last year.
I raced my husband in one of them and not only BEAT HIM BY 40 SECONDS, I got first in my age group.
My Olympic distance was 1500 meters open water swim (about 60 laps in the pool), 25 miles on the bike, and a 6.2 mile run.

Three years ago I barely finished one triathlon which was the same distance I got first place in this year.

I ran in three half-marathons this year.
It was only last year that I ran my first half-marathon.
Three years ago I barely finished a 5K without walking.


Now don't get me wrong- I didn't break any World Records or gain any sponsors this year because of my amazing results. But I did take myself farther (literally ) than I ever thought I could go.

I ended my season at The Queen Bee in Cincinnati, Ohio. What an absolute great time that was. It was like one big party the entire time. Cincinnati really knows how to support their runners. The main sponsors were Kroger and Proctor & Gamble. This was an all female race- and guess who does the majority of shopping? That's right- women. And they had over 3000 of them all in one spot. I've never gotten so much free stuff in my life- it was like Trick or Treat for adult women! I won't have to buy laundry soap, travel shampoo bottles, or tampons for years!

They fed us before, during, and after the race for free (minus of course the race fee which was no more than any other race). I opted out of the beer and Skyline chili dog though- I failed the post-race beer experiment miserably earlier this year....I did force down my free post-race mimosa though- it went splendidly with my complimentary chocolate covered strawberry while I waited in line to get my medal engraved!

We got long-sleeved shirts, headbands, and free coupons to all sorts of restaurants and stores. There was a stadium blanket, and even a gorgeous sunflower that had a tag on it- " put me in water at home so you can be reminded of how awesome you are!".

Every mile was it's own little party, with the usual water and Gatorade, but always something more. Sometimes the volunteers wore funny costumes like bumblebee outfits or coconut bras (the especially large guy was hilarious). There was live music in between each mile as well, from simple guitarists to marching bands and gospel choirs. High school cheerleaders threw each other in the air, and tons of running clubs wore funny shirts and screamed crazy things at us for encouragement.

We ran through beautiful neighborhoods, where residents lined the streets in their pajamas with their dogs on leashes and cheered us on while they drank their morning coffee. Some offered their own refreshments- I saw everything from muffins to an actual make-shift bar with Coke, Red Bull, Jello Shots, and cans of beer to offer.

The race volunteers were awesome, and I had my choice of Swedish Fish, Twizzlers, potato chips, orange slices, chocolate covered Oreos, and Stinger gels to pick from throughout the journey. Knowing my stomach is usually what slows me down in races, I only took them up on the Swedish Fish. I quickly realized this was a mistake, as it is quite difficult to chew and breathe heavy at the same time. I think that one fish swam in my mouth for at least a full mile....

At mile eight, I couldn't believe how good I still felt, and knew that I was ahead of pace. This is the best course I have done so far in regards to elevation, but I knew all too well that the last quarter of the race is what makes or breaks you.

Mile 9 and 10 is usually my "witching hour", and as I neared the end of Mile eight I made a decision.



Today Mile 9 and 10 were going to be my best ones of the race. I had trained so hard and prepped so carefully- I was NOT going to let the mental darkness get me this time. So I dug in, focused on those in front of me, and slowly but surely passed more people towards the end than I had ever dreamed of doing.

I crossed the finish line hard and fast- something I hadn't had the energy to do in any of my others. There was no concern of puking on the shoes of the volunteer who put the medal over my head. And I hadn't walked at all the entire race- another accomplishment for me.

Looking at my Garmin, I realized I had taken almost seven minutes off my best time. Holy smokes! All the runs at 4 o'clock in the morning and the bugs I had swallowed on the bike path were suddenly more than worth it- I started to skip a little towards the line of post-race food.

Ahhh shit shit cramp!

It's a little funny to look around at runners after a long race. We just finished sprinting beautifully across the finish line- and now everyone is walking around like zombies, afraid to put too much pressure where their blisters are or afraid if they sit down their entire lower body will give them the middle finger and not let them get up again.

But as happy and proud as I was for my myself that day, I was happier and prouder as I watched the 12-year old cross his finish line today. This was his first year running Cross Country, and it has been such a great experience. He has had great coaches, and made some new friends. But more importantly, he has learned some important lessons:

1. Sometimes, you have to rely on yourself. In running, there is no one else to blame if you don't finish like you wanted to. You can't say the ref gave you a bad call, or that someone on your team missed a block. It's you and the clock. Period. So if you do great- pat yourself on the back. If you don't- man up and take the responsibility, and figure out how you are going to do better next time.

2. There will always be someone faster than you. And that's ok. If you are giving everything you've got, that's all that matters. You have to learn to be comfortable with who you are, and realistic about what you can do. You may never be in the front of the pack, but you can always strive to be one second faster than last time.

3. Running shorts (aka "shorty shorts") are actually comfortable once you get used to walking around with more than your knee caps showing.

The 12-year old couldn't even run a full mile without stopping before school started. Within two weeks of starting on the team, he was up to 4 and five miles. He started the season running 2 miles in 17:37. A little over two months later, he crossed the line today at 15:53.

His PR was 16:35. Today's goal was 16 minutes..


He came out of the woods and hit the track running hard. He actually passed a few kids toward the end, and gave it all he had across the finish line. If the parent standing in front of me happens to read this post- I apologize if I burst your eardrum.

At 15:53, he was still towards the back of the pack. But you would never have known it by the smile on his face when he came up to us afterward. I hugged him fiercely and he said, "Dad told me to not leave anything out there today. So I didn't".

Good job kiddo. Good freaking job.

So 2015 ends on a high note for this household. I have learned so much this year, and am grateful for many things:

 My family, my friends, and even my boss who have supported me and my crazy schedule.

Getting through a season injury free, minus a run-in with my bike pedal that has left me with a battle scar. I passed many athletes this year who were not as lucky, so I am thankful.

And last but not least, I am grateful for Glide lubricant. This discovery has enabled me to survive the long-distance training sessions without chafed thighs and armpits.

I have already started back up with my tri workouts, but at a much more relaxed pace. Soon enough, it will be time to write out hard goals and make lists, plans, and maybe even a graph or two....but for now I am going to enjoy the end of warm days and take some time to think about what I really want to do next year. Besides beat my husband again of course- that's a given.

Hope your year has ended on a high note as well, whatever that means for you. Remember- there will always be someone faster, and that my friends, is ok.

Tapering- The Love/Hate Relationship

I am spending the time that I would traditionally use for running today to write a post for my blog. Why am I not running, you ask? Well, because I am "tapering".

Funny how you learn new words and lingo when you insert yourself into something new like triathlon. I now know the meaning of the following endurance sport words/phrases:

Tapering
Bonk
Brick
PR
Draft
Pull Buoy

And my personal favorite.....fartlek.



Tapering is done the last few days before a race, and involves decreasing the distance and intensity of your training in order to let your body be in a rested state the day of the race. You would think that someone who has been pounding and pushing their body 5-6 days per week would look forward to this, right?

Wrong. So very, very wrong.

If you go to Google Images and type in "marathon tapering', you may be surprised at what you see. Here are a couple of my favorites:

  

So, instead of being excited and feeling great because I get a couple of days "free", I find that I am cranky and constantly paranoid about not being able to finish because I took two days off.

I guess the cranky part is from not getting the dopamine rush everyone always talks about. I am a bit skeptical about that, as I have yet to find myself thinking, "man I feel great!" in the middle of a run. Now I will admit that I get a pump when I finish a run and have done well, but that may just truly be because I'm so happy to actually be done. During the run I am usually thinking things like, "I'm going to die" and "ok maybe not die but there's definitely potential for throwing up".

But what's worse is the guilt. Oh yes...the guilt. Run less and eat more carbs? What?! I have had days where I have eaten large amounts of ice cream and felt less guilty than I do today after eating one tiny danish at our staff meeting- because in my head I could justify the ice cream with the workout I had done that day. My husband asked me how long I was going to run last night as I packed on all my gear. "Thirty minutes", I responded.

"That's all?"



On Saturday, I will participate in the Queen Bee half marathon. Last year I ran it in 2 hours and thirteen minutes. That means I need to run a 10 min/mile pace in order to get a PR (personal record). I realize that for many people a 10 minute mile is a "piece of cake". For me, it is more like a eating a whole plate of hot wings in a contest- I think I can technically do it, but am a little worried about how hard I will sweat, if I will have to stop in the middle, and if I will puke in front of everyone at the end.

Endurance sports are physically challenging for sure. But the truth is that they are just as challenging mentally. I will admit that when it comes to exercise, I have spent most of my life as a quitter. Or at least  a "stopper". When my muscles started to burn lifting weights, or my breathing got heavy while running....well, I stopped.

I think that's why endurance sports have been so good for me. If I didn't have a plan tacked up on my fridge that said I am supposed to run 6 miles today, I would get to mile 3 and decide that was good enough.

I would. That's just the truth.

But knowing I have to go home and log my miles and time against the plan, I will for some reason bust my ass and push past limits I didn't know I had. Because those that know me, know that I LOVE to check things off a list :).

So if I have one piece of advice from my reflections during the dreaded taper week, it's that setting goals is a great way to get yourself started, as well as push you to levels you never dreamed of. I started with a goal of jogging for 1/4 of a lap on the track. That's 1/16 of a mile. But the next week I did 1/2 of a lap, and on Saturday I will jog my third half-marathon of the year. And if this "stopper" can do it- so can you.



Bring on the taper. And bring on the carbs. Just don't look at me funny while I'm eating them and ask me how my workout was today. Because I might throat-punch you.

Good luck and safe running to all of my friends participating in races this weekend. May your feet carry you swiftly and without blisters, and may your thighs go unchafed from your running shorts!

The Definition of Endurance

When I googled the word "endurance" tonight, the first definition that came up was this:

The fact or power of enduring an unpleasant or difficult process or situation without giving way

Huh. And here I thought it just meant you could perform for a prolonged period of time (stop your snickering...) 

But the more I thought about it, the more I agreed with this explanation of what has become such a big part of my life. Because endurance sports are NOT necessarily about distance- they are about so much more than that.

Today I ran in our local Air Force half-marathon. This was my third marathon attempt, and I felt relatively strong with decent training times the last two weeks. As I attempted to look up my bib number Thursday night, I had a small panic attack- every time I typed my name in on the website it stated that I wasn't registered. Finally, I figured out the problem:

Nice job, Stephane. Guess I won't be putting THAT bib in a shadow box...

I picked my running buddy up at 6:45 this morning, and off we went towards our second 1/2 marathon adventure together. When we got to the venue, we were directed to park in a field. I had brought an extra pair of socks in case my feet got wet- but my girlfriend took it to another level. She pulled out plastic grocery bags and tape, and we proceeded to wrap them around our sneakers- genius!

Sexy, no. But genius, yes. 

I looked at TIna and said, "One of the best parts about being older is that I just don't give a shit if this look weird."

Several rows of vehicles and odd looks later we realized the grass wasn't actually wet....so we giggled and took off our Kroger bagged feet. 

But if that grass WOULD have been wet, we'd have been ready!

The start and finish were on an air strip, and I took a moment to look at the finish line. 

Even more impressive was the row upon row of medals hanging on racks. They reminded me of alien pods in a science fiction movie like The Matrix, where the humans are being "farmed". There were 5000 half-marathoners alone, with a total of 15, 000 people combined in the 5K, 10K, half, and full. That's a crap-ton of medals.

OK, The countdown was on. And I had to poop.

Fortunately, the people organizing this gig must be runners too, and understand the importance of an empty GI tract, because there were port-a-pots as far as the eyes could see (or nose could smell ha ha). I narrowly missed dumping my sunglasses into never-never land, but came out unscathed and Tina and I were ready to roll.

And so it began. Five thousand runners headed onto the Air Force base- every Security Force officer's nightmare I'm sure. But to be fair, it's the first race I've ever had to go through a metal detector for!

Mile 1-5 were pretty steady. Unfortunately my head phones had decided not to work properly, so I was only getting bits and pieces of my playlist. You aren't allowed to wear ear phones in triathlons, so luckily I already had some mind games in my back pocket to pull out. I counted to 60 with my foot pace, then 45, 30, and 15 (check Garmin watch). Repeat. 

Over and over and over again.

Not very exciting, I realize, but my brain can only handle basic functions after 5 miles. I still would find myself forgetting where I was in my little personal OCD world, then cuss under my breath and start over.

Somewhere between mile 6 and 8 was The Holy Hill from Hell. It seemed like no matter how many times I counted to 60, every time I looked up the hill was STILL THERE. I gave in towards the top and started to walk, but as soon as I did I heard my name.

"Come on Stephanie. You got this!"

The voice did not come from my head ( I usually don't hear imaginary voices until after mile 10...). It was my friend Matt, who was gliding by me with his awesome marathoner wife. And I mean the son of a bitch was literally GLIDING along. AND smiling. He is always smiling. This guy only started endurance sports in 2011, and has tackled everything from 5Ks to ultramarathons. He just did a half-ironman last weekend, for God's sake. And he tells me when he started four years ago, he could barely swim one length of the pool. Here is just a sampling of his medals:

This is Matt and his wife. Aren't they adorable? It was her TENTH half-marathon. And she did it today with a GI bug. 

"Alright, alright", I muttered and started up my pace again.

By mile nine, I was in The Dark Zone. That is where fatigue, pain, and general hopelessness of ever getting to the finish line set in. I was nauseated for some reason, and the thought of trudging along for four more miles was daunting, to say the least.

Then the guy in the wheelchair passed me.

Shit.

Mile 10. I was walking a little here and there at this point, since I REALLY was worried about yakking. As I was walking and berating-myself -for-walking, a man in Air Force running gear and a military haircut passed me and said, "I can't say we are almost there yet, but we're close". He was older than me, and I smiled once I realized he had just read my shirt.

I started up again and caught up to him by mile 11. 

"NOW I can say it!", he said happily. 

"I was so upset with myself back there. Thanks for shaking me out of it".

He put his fist up and replied, "We've got this".

I fist bumped with the American Hero. "Let's finish together", I said.

And so we did. I would have never made that last mile without walking if it wasn't for him. I was hyperventilating to the point my entire right side of my body went numb. My stomach was rolling- I felt like the girl in "Bridesmaids" who is desperately trying to get outside before she shits herself. "Please God don't let me puke until after I get past the guys with the cameras..."

 Here I am after getting my medal, thanking the Airman for his service ( I swear I wasn't using him to keep me upright...). Note the gentlemen in a wheelchair on the right!

The fact or power of enduring an unpleasant or difficult process or situation without giving way

Yep. That's what I did today. With a little help from my friends. And a little help from strangers as well.

Endurance sports have taught me so much more than how to swim, bike, and run. It has taught me that I can push through when the going gets rough. It has taught me that I am blessed to physically be able to swim, bike, and run- no matter the pace. And it has taught me that there are some amazingly inspiring people out there. I can only hope that I can be that person one day who helps someone else finish their race, or just keep moving forward. 

 I missed my personal best by five (#$%&ing) seconds today, and was a little upset about that until I saw the overall results:

1740th out of 5000 runners. 

616th out of 2794 women. That's top quartile!

90th out of 415 women ages 40-44. another top quartile!

"HONEY!", I hollered from the computer room. 'Let's go eat some pizza! I earned it!"

Because you don't have to come in first. It's all about crossing the finish line- no matter the distance- knowing you gave your all. And it may also be about being able to eat pizza and drink beer without a guilty conscience. 

OK, Ok pizza, beer, and a container of Ben and Jerry's. Don't judge.

Congrats to all the finishers of this weekends' endurance races, no matter where you were or what distance you finished!