IMUT here I come! (5.1.2010)

I started training with a coach Dec 1st and so far I'm glad I did. I have completed training I would have never done. I knew but didn't realize the extent of my ignorance. I really needed help and if I would have realized that sooner I would have done better in the two half Ironman races I completed this year. One workout at a time is leading me closer and closer to IMUT...I'm so anxious and scared at the same time. I want to be ready, I want to see if I can make it, I want to endure and come out at the end with a smile. My journey has truly begun. Each day I grow more excited and ready. I can't express the feeling I'm felling right now because they are a bit new to me. I love triathlon, LOVE IT! I love training, even though it's sucking so much time out of my life. I just got a better bike for my daughter; it will be nice for her to ride with me while I run...the company will be nice. I'm so excited right now...IMUT here I come.

Endure...

I found myself mentally wondering off while driving to work this morning. Yes I know it's not a good idea but yes, I was doing it.
Endurance I kept thinking to myself, what does endurance athlete really mean? Yes we must endure all 140.6 miles of the big race but what do you have to do to get there? All the sacrificing. I asked myself this question because during the time it took for me to train for the races I have done, my 17 year old son has been growing up and away from me. He's going through things I don't care to put down here but they're big. I realized while driving that no matter what, I must endure. I must endure all the heart ache and pain he's putting me through in order for him to endure. I don't know what the future hold for him, heck I don't know what it holds for me. As with training I must take life one day at a time and always believe that good things will happen if you put in work and have a little faith.

2010 Race Schedule...

San Dieguito Half Marathon

Gran Fondo Century

Ironman 70.3 California

Ironman 140.6 St. George

Wahsatch Steeplechase

Ironman 70.3 Boulder

RnR Marathon Las Vegas

Patience...

I have had one of the most adventurous, fun filled and painful years to date; I have been plagued by injury upon injury casting self doubt over every event I decide to enter this year. Once I recovered from one injury another occurred; I’m just having large amounts of bad luck. I can’t tell you everything that has been going on in my life but some things are visible for all to see. I’ve enjoyed so many high points this year, finishing my first Half Ironman distance in April to trail running in the beautiful mountains of Utah. The memory I cherish the most was trail running/walking all 5 peaks of Mission Trails in one day, completing the 18+ miles in 5 hours, what an adventure and so much fun. I mention this particular event only because it occurred after my tendon finally healed from a night time trail run I had done in November 2008.

Last night after finally feeling better after a month of no running because of hamstring issues I decided to go climbing at a local climbing gym in San Diego. While doing some bouldering I slipped, feel, and landed wrong on my left leg sending pain up my thigh. You could only imagine all the things that were going through my mind but the main one was “not again!” I set on the mat with friends standing around me unaware of the pain I was experiencing thinking to myself, I have been defeated! I climb one mountain and another is always behind it. I’m hurting badly today and have no idea what’s wrong with my leg and it’s so hard to stay positive but I must. St. George training in knocking on my door and time is not on my side…not just with training but with life in general. I have come to terms with the fact that I’m getting older and I don’t heal as fast as I did when I was 26. Patience in life, I have no choice but to have. Giving up, not a chance. Listening to the voices in my head that tell me my dreams are too big, I say silence!

A note from my very first Tri...Wildflower 2007

It’s been a week since my first triathlon and I’m just now getting a grip on my feelings about it. I sit hear typing this blog and I don’t know if I desire to do another one. My imagination did not compare with reality; Wildflower was harder than I imagined it would be, truly.

The swim…

The horn went off for my wave, I made sure I was at the back because I didn’t want to be kicked, punched, or elbowed at the start. I made my way into the water swam about 15 strokes and stopped. I just couldn’t get my breath, I couldn’t find my rhythm, I couldn’t find my strength. I floated there for at least 5 minutes; I knew this because the next wave had started. A spotter on a surf board called out to me asking me if I was ok, I responded, NO I’m scared!!! He continued to console and give me a peep talk while I contemplated returning to the finish and giving up. I floated yet again for another five minutes because another wave swam pass me. I looked were I had to go then turned to look at the start, I floated there and wondered what my son, who was there, would think if I turned and swam back SO I begin my 1 hour and 7 minute swim. Yes it took me that long to swim a mile. I put my head down and counted my breaths and spotted when necessary. I was about 100 yards away from the turn around when a woman with a pink cap swam on top of me, a popped up to see what the heck happened and I spotted her doing the back stroke. I put my head down again took a couple of strokes and again, she swam over me. I looked again, this time taking a few seconds to observe her and she was swimming zig zag all over the course! I waited for her get further ahead of me and then I put my head down and started off again. AGAIN she swam on top of me, this time I said to her, I’m really trying to make it here…she screams back, “I’m trying to make it too!” Again, I let her swim ahead of me and again it happened, this time a spotter seen her and told her to come over and take a break on his board; after that I continued on. I made the turn around and by this time I was swimming for a long time so my legs began to cramp up because they were cold and I was getting tired. I continued counting breaths and finally I was finished.

The bike…

Running up the ramp to transition was a trip; I was so delirious and didn’t know what the heck I was doing or where the hell I was supposed to be going. I made it to my spot, peeled off my wet suit and commenced to putting on my cycle gear. I forgot my shot bloks which I needed to fuel but fortunately I put some in the night before I got from a CLIF BBQ. Shoes on, helmet on, sunscreen applied I ran toward the bike out sign. Of course people were hollering at me, no go this way, no this way! Still I was delirious! Finally I was able to mount my bike and start on the path. O MY GOD right out of transition was Lynch hill! It was god awful hot and that hill was god awful steep. I made it up but while going up I seen Doug coming in from the run with a smile, he screamed out, “GO LISA!” he gave me a little boost to get up that hill. After the 4th hill I seen Fatima riding in the opposite direction, going at a pretty good pace, she too scream out, “GO LISA!” again she gave me strength. Now throughout my ride I realized that I was with the slow group because the good Triathletes were up there with Fatima, I was lagging…that darn swim killed me and I was feeling the effects of it. Peddle, peddle, peddle, GEEZ when is this going to end and shite, I still have to run! During that ride, I was really questioning myself. Why was I there, why was I doing a triathlon? I really wanted to get off my bike and go home. I was tired of that shite! Peddle, peddle, peddle, hill, hill, hill, heat, heat, and more heat! Finally after 25 miles I was done.

The run…

I arrived in transition after the bike, by this time I truly believed I couldn’t go any further so began to cry. I put my sneakers and running cap on and grabbed my water bottle. I had no intentions of finishing the race, I was headed to the porta potty and then I was going to find somewhere to sit and cry some more. While walking toward the porta potties there was Andrew and Doug screaming, “Yea, you’re almost there, GO you can do it!” I gave a fake smile, got on the run course and began the final leg of my race. My goodness this race was ridiculous, how many hills did I have to conquer that day? Mile one goes by, GEEZ it’s so hot it hurts! I pop my first salt tablet followed by some water and continue shuffling along. 1.5 miles in I thought forget this shit I’m walking! I walk for a ½ mile and made it to an aid station where I downed as much Gatorade and water as I could and continued on. Mile 4 I realized I wasn’t sweating anymore and I began to worry because that’s a sign of heat stroke. I made it to the next aid station, got sprayed down with water until I was soaked that way I could cool down with the help of the nice breeze that decided to grace us poor runners with it’s presence. More salt tablets, water, and Gatorade. Mile five I meet a man and his daughter, the man explained to me that I should be proud of what I was doing because only a ½ of 1% of the world’s population could brag of doing a triathlon. That gave me energy for ¼ of a mile and again the heat over took me and I began to walk. Finally mile 5 was ALL down hill and I was able to run it, when I got to the bottom there was the gang, Andrew, Doug, Fatima, and Kory cheering me on…I found a burst of energy and ran strong across the finish line, my 6.2 mile and first triathlon was finished.

I didn’t have words to describe how I felt about my first race at the end but I told Doug I would do it again. I just came back from a Mother’s Day ocean swim, I didn’t enjoy it. It was cold and I’m tired of getting a chaffed neck. I don’t know if I want to continue this. I love riding and that’s it. I’ve lost weight and toned up a tad because of all the training and I don’t want to go back to the way I looked. For that reason I will continue the training. The next Tri is the Carlsbad sprint, I don’t know if I’ll do it. I will be doing the Camp Pendleton Sprint and Pacific Grove Olympic because those are the ones I was training for last year before I broke my wrist. I do intend to return to Wildflower only because I want to improve my time so I guess I’m saying I will continue doing triathlons. I think I may throw in a ½ marathon with Nelson and Mel, just because I like running with them.

It's been awhile and I'm missing my mojo...

Since completing Vineman 70.3 I've rested, started riding like a mad woman, and start training for my first marathon.

Before Vineman I told all my friends and family I was going to retire from the sport of triathlon. Training takes up too much time, time I could be spending with my kids or on other activities. After Vineman I started to reconsider my retirement plans. I don't know, deep down inside I love the training aspects of triathlon but when I put toe to line I question myself...why am I doing this? That's not the question I'm asking in today's blog but I do need to know where my mojo went? Lately during my runs I just can't find it within myself to continue. Most days I stop mid stream, walking and making excuses for doing so. There's nothing wrong with me, yes I'm tired but not enough to stop running and start walking. Yes my knees hurt but not enough to stop and baby them. I can't find my mojo; I don't know where I left it or it left me. I didn't have it during Vineman; it jumped ship way before that and I didn't have it during CA 70.3 it was gone then too. What's up...I need it to come back, RnR Las Vegas is coming and the only mojo I have is from others. If it wasn't for my fabulous friends there's no way I would don the running or trail shoes, no way. IM St. George is 8 months away, when I signed up I had 13 months...where did that time go? Mojo come back, I need you! I have to find my mojo in time to train for that ridiculously hard IM race. Come on mojo, come on back home.

What Motivates Me?

I was asked that question recently and really couldn't give an answer straight away; I really had to sit and think about it. I enjoy what I'm doing and when I don't feel any sort of joy I'll stop...

When I compete I compete for me. I'm not trying t prove anything to anyone, I'm not even trying to place...I just want that feeling of accomplishment; I know that feeling is what keeps me going.

When I wake up race morning I consider that a challenge, it's so easy to say...I can't or why bother. But to get up when it's still dark, put on a tri suit and grab my gear that in itself is an accomplishment. When that buzzer goes off, I take one swim stroke, one pedal stroke, and one foot in front of the other until I cross that finish line. When I cross it and look back on my experience I realize I had a blast! It was so much fun, regardless of the pain and mental anguish...when it comes right down to it I had a good time. That's my motivation, that's what keeps me going, that good feeling I have after a race...that feeling of wow, I didn't think I could do that.

I will continue to race as long as it's fun and after that I'll find something else that interest me and give me a feeling of accomplishment.

How I got started...

Jan 17th, 2006 I got the news...Denza was dead. She was my best childhood friend and she was only 38 years old. She died of a heart attack because she failed to take care of herself. She was 350 pounds and only stood 5 foot 3 inches tall. Jan 18th, 2006 I began to run...I didn't want to die of a heart attack, I didn't want to leave my children without a mother, I had to get in shape...I wanted to be healthy.

Two months later a friend of mine asked me if I ever thought of doing a triathlon. I laughed at her out loud and said, are you crazy...I can't do anything like that! Three years later her I am...I just finished my first half Ironman and will be doing my second in 3 months. On May 1st, 2010 I'll compete in my first full Ironman...IM Utah. I don't know if I'll finish but I'm sure going to tri ;)

Recovery Nearly over...

My week of recovery after CA 70.3 is nearly over. I really needed the time off; my legs were in really bad shape after the triathlon. Starting Saturday I’m going to start training for Vineman 70.3 which is July 19^th. Vineman is supposed to be extremely difficult because of the hill climbing and the extreme temperatures. My only saving grace is I live in Santee. Santee can get up to 112 degrees in the summer and I love riding in the heat. Training in high temperature as well as climbing the hills of Santee and East County should help me on the bike for the Tri. I’m going to step up my Swim training and increase my run miles. I have a half marathon in Santa Ynez, near Santa Barbara in May. Hopefully that race will help me gauge my weaknesses as far as the run is concerned. As I said in a previous blog my running has suffered due to injury but has always been my strongest in the past. I’ll keep track of my progress as I train and hopefully I’ll get faster over the next three months.

I Made It

I woke up Saturday April 4th, 2009 a little more optimistic than I've been in a while, it’s been a long time since I got a good night sleep. Well rested I showered, put on my tri suit and grabbed the only thing that ever settles on my stomach on race day, an oatmeal raisin Clif bar. After checking one more time making sure I had everything I needed, I headed for the car and loaded my bike and tri bag in the trunk. Nervousness was starting to set in so I cranked the radio as loud as I could stand it, opened the Clif bar, and began to drive.

I hit the freeway going a slow 65 mph, if you know me you know that’s not normal. After about fifteen minutes of driving I caught sight of a Tri Club sticker, it was on the back of a truck carrying a tri bike so I followed it. I was extremely nervous and didn't want to think about which way to go. After about a half hour I pulled into the parking lot parking next to the truck I followed up the freeway.

I pulled my bike and gear out of the car, put on my helmet, and walked about a block. I knew I had a long way to go so I decided to ride my bike instead of walking with all the people that were in no particular hurry and had someone to talk to. I peddled slow, weaving around people as I went thinking about the swim; I had to find a way to calm myself and just get through it. I arrived in transition and was surprised to see I was the first one there and would be the first to rack my bike on the bar…a first! After laying out all my gear I headed for body marking. I still hadn’t seen anyone I knew and I was in desperate need to talk with someone. After body marking I headed back to transition and there next to my gear were 3 other women. We began to talk about how cold it was and how many triathlons we've done. Out of the four of us this was our first half ironman and we were all nervous. I decided to walk around a bit more in hope of finding someone I knew and take a bathroom break while I had the chance, surprisingly I really didn't have to go. After more walking and chatting with any and everyone I headed back to transition and there getting her stuff ready was Chris D, I have never been so happy to see someone in my life; I ran over and gave her hug.

It was finally time to get ready for the swim. We put on our wetsuits, found a place to get warm, and finally headed to the swim start. Chris kept telling me to keep moving once I hit the water, just keep moving. Before I knew it we were in and I was swimming for the start. I was grateful for the little 100 yard swim to the start, it helped me acclimate to the cold water and it also calmed me down a little. Finally it was time to go, I put my head down and began to swim, after about 4 strokes kick number one occurred, not a problem just keep on going I told myself. I continued swimming and also continued to get kicked after about 4o or so strokes it finally happened. I got kicked so hard in the face I honestly thought my jaw was broken. I came up, looked around and made sure I could still open and close my mouth; my jaw hurt but it was OK. I put my face down and began to swim. Before the swim was over I was kicked 5 times, slapped 3, punched twice, and pulled under three times. With that being said I never panicked once. The swim was over, my mind was going a mile a minute...Oh my GOD I made it through the swim, OK where's my bike...it's time to ride!

After the mad dash to T1, I pulled off my wet suit and tried putting on my riding gear. I was having a hard time because I was so cold. I put on everything I needed and then grabbed my bike. While heading toward the mount line a volunteer pulled me to the side and asked me was I cold. By that time I was shivering so uncontrollably I could barely walk straight so he took me to the medical tent. There I was treated to a chair in front of a heater, a shinny plastic blanket, a cup of soup, and another friendly face of whom I recognized...Mark Kenny. After warming up in the tent for awhile, I escaped out the back grabbed my bike and headed again for the mount line; I was off.

It goes without saying, the Marine base is beautiful; I can't believe they're keeping all that prime land to themselves. The ride was one of the most beautiful in San Diego I've been on and it saddens me to know I’ll never ride those hill again without entering a race. As I approached mile 25 I saw the aftermath of an accident, there were a couple of guys lying on the ground with Marines surrounding them. I couldn't imagine what happened but hoped they would be OK. Mile 29 or 30 I hit the first hill, I wanted to walk so bad but my pride got the best of me and I peddled my bike right up that hill cussing all the way with the other riders cussing right along with me. That hill was ridiculous so I understood why there were so many people walking it. Hill two, three, and four were tiring but definitely not as hard as the first but the last one was the longest and took a lot out of me so at that point I was spent. I was only 45 miles into the ride with 11 more to go. Finally after what seemed like an eternity I was in T2 putting on my running shoes.

At that point all I could feel was pain; I couldn’t believe how bad my left knee hurt…the pain was off the chart. I actually started talking out loud to myself saying, you can do this…you have to do this…one foot in front of the other, that’s all you have to do. I grabbed my water bottles and started running. I had only run a quarter of a mile when I stopped looked around and said to myself, this is crazy…I can’t do this! All of a sudden I heard someone screaming come on Lisa! I looked up and there was Bill, I nearly cried…it was so nice to see a person that had faith in me when I had none in myself. I started running again, I gave him a fake smile and told him I was fine and kept on running. Once I turned the corner and saw how much more sand I had to run through I stopped again, I walked through it and once I hit solid ground I began to run again. A mike in I came upon the Tri Club Love Stop aid station where I saw Ron Lane and several other Tri Club members cheering me on, giving me motivation to keep running. Still running I saw more friendly faces, Chris D, Kevin K, Joe B, Buck W…all giving me motivation to run when they themselves were tired to the bone. Finally I was at the first turn around and running back toward the start. I knew I had to turn around and repeat the two loop course and in my mind I was trying to figure out how I was going to that. I hit the second turn around and a woman scream, “you made it, you’re almost there” I looked at her and said I have to turn around. She looked at me in shock and said, “OH NO” smiled and said, “Ah heck, you can do it!” It took all the power I had in my body to turn that cone, I wanted to stop so bad I couldn’t stand it. One foot in front of the other, that’s all I have to do, one foot in front of the other. I came upon the sand again and there was Bill still smiling and still taking pictures. I handed him my extra water bottle and said I can’t do this. He looked at me with a serious face and said sternly, “you are doing it and you’re almost there…get going!” I smiled, this time for real and started running with a smile, I had to finish. At that point I couldn’t walk if I wanted too; it hurt worse to walk than to run. I could no longer extend my knee, it was locked in the bent position and the pain was nearly unbearable. I will not be defeated passed my lips and I continued running. Every runner I came upon in the opposite direction I yelled to saying, we got this, smile we’re almost done! I kept this up until I got to the turn around and by that time I was nearly in tears because the pain was making me dizzy. My feet were beginning to cramp, I was hungry beyond words…the run had to end! I kept running through the pain, yelling at each runner we got this! We’re almost there! The sand, there’s the sand I said to myself…I hobbled over it and around the bend. I heard, COME ON LISA! Bill on the other side of the river screaming…shoot, I got to run I said to myself. I started running once I hit the pavement and continued until I came upon Shawn Moran. I was delirious with pain and hunger and honestly didn’t know which way the finish line was. Hey Shawn, where’s the finish…I saw him laugh and then heard him say, “Right there!” I looked ahead and then started sprinting…I saved that little bit to give my family and friends a show; I didn’t want them to see me hobble across the finish no matter how much I hurt. I made it, I made it…I began to cry when I got to the t-shirt table, a nice lady kept asking what size do you need but I was crying and couldn’t answer. She said, “It’s OK, you did something great today, I understand…what size t-shirt do you need?” I never answered and she just handed me a small and Cami escorted me to the food tent. Cami said, “You need to eat” and so I did, five pieces of pizza and a cup of pretzels. After finishing my food, I bid Cami a farewell and went looking for my family and friends…I made it.

CA 70.3 packet pickup.

Well I picked up my race packet for CA 70.3 and the cute litte green bracelet that comes with it; why in the world do we have to wear it for a full three days?



Anyway, it's on...soon it'll be time to get the party started, green bracelet and all.

Hopefully at the end of this experience I'll have something happy to write about...

Fear and Doubt

As I sit in front of my computer thinking about my first upcoming Half Ironman the butterflies flutter in my stomach, my heart beats a little faster, and my finger tips began to slide off the keyboard.

I'm not ready...

I'm the slowest swimmer you could ever imagine BUT I won't give up. I continue swimming until I get to the finish line or someone says it's over and you didn't make it. If I can make it through the swim I believe I can make up some time on the bike. This is what I've been telling myself for the last month; No matter how often or how much I tell myself this the anxiety will not go away. Deep down inside I don't think my legs will hold up; I have not trained for the run portion following a torn tendon in November of 2008. I've only been running on a treadmill for 4 weeks and after the run my tendon throbs to no end. It's not the pain that is unbearable but irritating because it brings fear and doubt into my mind.

When I signed up for California Half Ironman I hoped it would be a stepping stone to something bigger...Full Ironman. With this race I hoped to overcome all fears and doubts of my abilities and to see what I'm made of, I could gauge my weaknesses and take notes of my strengths. That plan is out the window because I'm starting with a weakness, self doubt something I'm having trouble overcoming.

If I don't let fear and doubt overtakes me I will make it to the start and I will do all I can to make it to that finish line too. I refuse to give up without jus cause; I will overcome the fears and doubt I have in myself...I will.