This will be a summer of training.  Initially, I was only planning on doing the Hawk I which is a sprint tri on June 5th down in Lansing, MI.  But then, thanks to my ambitious friends, Tennille and Kimmy, we will be racing as a relay team in the half-ironman distance triathlon, the Kuparisaari or the “Koop” as they call it, on August 14th.  Tennille will be swimming the 1.2 miles, Kimmy will be running the 13.1 miles, and I am responsible for riding the 56 miles on bike.  At this point, I’m not too worried about the sprint tri.  I’m just working on paring down my time so I can raise as much money as possible from my sponsors for Love 146.  The Koop bike ride is what worries me.

Today was my longest bike ride to date and it was tough.  The workout was entitled, “Long Ride – Hills!”.  I didn’t understand what that exclamation point was doing there until about 30 minutes into the ride when I turned right up Broemer.  It was then, as I was pumping up this road, rain-drenched and fighting to see through all of the droplets on my sunglasses, that I understood what Christopher Schwartz meant by that punctuation mark.  Unfortunately, there were plenty more “hills!” during that 1:45 ride.  Now, after 25.41 miles and some time for my body to respond to the abuse that happened a few hours ago, I’m super-fatigued and my legs feel like bricks.  If I take a nap, I’m afraid I won’t be able to get back up.  But it was one of those rare workouts that meant more to me than just exercise.

There have only been two times since I began training 10 weeks ago, where after I completed a workout, I surprised myself. I’m beginning to see how these moments are becoming benchmarks in my triathlon journey. Moments where I can look back to for encouragement when I can’t seem to get into the daily grind. The first time was just last week when I swam a 1000yd time trial.  I had never swam that distance non-stop before. I couldn’t believe I finished it in 18:50.  For me, that was such an amazing time.  Today was the second.  This ride today signified something special to me, not so much because I was pleased with my overall speed or cadence.  (I wasn’t at all!)  But because I couldn’t believe I had pushed and endured the entire ride.  I went to the top of every hill (-even Painesdale) and didn’t give myself any shortcuts or breaks.  I had won a mental battle against myself. 

Sometimes, it’s the workouts that kick your butt that make you realize you can do more. Sometimes, it’s the greatest challenges overcome that give you the unexpected encouragement to try even harder. So funny how that works. Well, today I raised up an ebenezer. I do hope there are many more to come.

First early morning bike ride at 7am flying solo.

First attempted snot-rocket:  Epic Fail.

Last Thursday, I went on my first outdoor bike ride of the year. In fact, it was my first real ride on my new bike that Israel so generously bought for me against my will. There are many different ways I could describe this ride, but as a novice, I figure the best way would be to list the plethora of knowledge that I gained from this 45 minute trip:

1.  The Trainer:
I rode on our trainer at home a few times before taking my first ride outside.  I’m sure it helped strengthen me in certain areas, but overall, I don’t think it prepared me much for real riding.  But it did give me insight to the fact that I had no idea about how to adjust my gears, and that I have a lot of work to do if I’m ever going to bike 56 miles in August.  Basically, my first ride outside felt like my first ride.

2. Proper Bike Attire:
In the early nineties, “biker shorts” were in.  They didn’t have the huge padding, but they were still called biker shorts.  In my school, to be considered one of the cool kids, you sported Reebok pumps or chunky BKs, layered double socks (different colors of course), a tie-dyed shirt (Hyper-color if you were super-cool) and tucked it in and fluffed it out of black biker shorts with a neon colored stripe down the sides. I never subscribed to this.  Twenty years later, I find myself wearing biker shorts…yes, the spandex kind. Even now, every time I put them on, I find myself muttering under my breath in disbelief.

Well, that’s how road-bikers roll.

On my first bike ride of the year, I found out how road-bikers don’t roll. It was chilly out and since I don’t know much about proper bikemanship ettiquette, I asked my trusty husband what I should wear. He seemed quite confident in his response, which was to wear my long johns and then put my biker shorts over them. At first, I thought it was a joke. But he continued to go on about how that’s what he does and that’s what bikers do. 

It’s a bit tricky because you’d think what you wear biking wouldn’t really matter, but you’d be amazed how that could affect your overall performance.  It wouldn’t bother me as much if I were riding, say, a banana bike.  But I have a triathlon bike.  Just by virtue of owning that bike, there are many expectations that accompany that.  Obviously, you need to dress for the weather.  But even beyond that, nobody wants to look like a wannabe or novice, even if they are one.  I wanted to look at least as though I had some sort of validation for owning that bike.  I trusted Israel.

I rocked my cotton long johns with my shiny spandex biking shorts over them.  I wore a cotton hoody.  I wore my helmet that I got from Walmart.  I wore my cut-off biking gloves.  I wore my mad-expensive Oakleys (that insurance did pay for).  Imagine me riding in aero position along our scenic country road.  After seeing other bikers on the road, the realization sunk in that I looked like an absolute fool.  I wouldn’t have even wanted to be seen with myself.  Not only that, I was freezing cold and ended up feeling sore from the saddle.  Every time a car passed by, I cringed.  

The moral of this part of the story:  You should feel confident about your overall look on a bike ride.  If unsure, consult a professional.

3.  It’s Snot What You’d Expect:
My nose began running like crazy.  At first, sniffing seemed to resolve the problem, but of course, that really didn’t.  In fact, it just got worse.  I searched my pockets to see if there was anything I could use to wipe my nose.  Absolutely nothing.  That.  Wa(s).  (s)Not.  Cool.

The moral of this part of the story:  Learn how to launch a clean snot-rocket (-that’s what my coach advised me to do).

4.  Learn Your Gears:
So, I had no idea how and when to change my gears.  In fact, I didn’t even know how many gears I had.  I had never touched my left gears and maybe stayed within 2-3 of the right gears.  That’s how I rode on my first bike ride (which may explain why it was so hard for me to go up hills).  A few days later, I went on my second ride with two really good bikers.  I was feeling pretty crunchy as I had to get edumacated on how to change my gears and when.  To top it off, some gears were ridiculously noisy.  (Imagine if I were wearing my outfit from the first ride!)  So, my bike is in the shop now getting a tune-up and I am still trying to gather my pride that was splattered on the road somewhere…most likely on that big hill. 

The moral of this part of the story:  Know your bike and your components.  Get regular tune-ups.  Train solo on your bike until you’re fast.  Then it is safe to go on a group ride.
 
5.  Bells & Whistles:
Some people have laughed at me because on my tri bike, I installed a little blue bell.  In fact, Manu picked it out for me last year and I had put it on my previous bike.  He told me to ring it whenever I am riding by him and he would cheer for me.  I also jokingly tell people that I’m going to ring my bell whenever I pass someone up in a race.  The other day, I bought myself a third-eye which is a little rear-view mirror that attaches to my sunglasses.  I’m still trying to figure out how and when to use them both, but I really like them and they make me happy.

The moral of this part of the story:  If there is anything in road biking that can/will make you happy, I say go for it.

6.  I Set Myself Up:
I talked a lot of smack about how I’m going to beat the guys’ bike time in the Koop, but looking at the current situation, (and I hate to admit this but) I’m pretty much setting myself up.  I’m realizing that my body is no longer in a place where I  can really compete with these guys.  Three pregnancies and three c-sections did some major damage.  It’s also kind of humbling to see how far I’ve let myself go.  But, I guess it never hurts to dream, right?  (And to preserve my pride, I think I could still take them in tennis.) 

* * * * * * *

Overall though, I am really enjoying my training experience.  I love reviewing my plans on my Training Peaks app.  I love going to the gym early in the morning when it is still a little dark, and then coming out and seeing the sun coming up and brightening the day.  I love saying “hi” and chatting with the card-swipers.  I love feeling free to think about whatever it is I feel like thinking…for over an hour straight.  And then I love coming home to my excited three boys who ask me what kind of work out I did and then give me a great big hug and kiss even though I’m all sweaty and gross.

While some days can be discouraging, like my first ride, I keep trying to tell myself, this is only the beginning.  (I’m hoping I’m in this for the long haul.)  And somehow, that’s enough to get me excited for the future.  I guess I gotta start somewhere.

The race started at 6:00pm.  It was a perfect crisp day for an autumn run.  The eight or so people who were running met at the Tech Student Development Complex parking lot and then took a short warm-up walk to where the race would start.  Agustin, a PhD student at Tech would give the countdown while his little daughter cheered everyone, especially her mom, who happened to be my pacer.

With the honk of a car’s horn, everyone speeds down the first stretch of the course.  Everyone, except me.  My pacer, Lilia, and coach Rick are by my side helping me relax and talking me through the course.  A few minutes into the race, Lilia speeds up about a car’s length in front of me and holds that position for the 2 hours plus that would follow.  Rick goes back and forth giving some running tips and talking of his recently finished Ironman experience to help keep me focused while not over-thinking the run.

We hit the first aid station and Agustin is there to give us shots of Gatorade.  Lilia and I take our shots and keep running.  Rick stays back to talk to Augustine — he’s running the race, coaching me, and directing it at the same time.  Lilia holds back her position a little bit to talk to me.  We talk about the book, Born to Run, and how the author makes it seem like anyone can run an ultra-marathon.  I’m somewhat inspired. 

We’ve been running for less than an hour and we see two girls running towards us — one of them is an ex-coach for Indiana U’s swimming team and a triathlete.  I’m thinking, Dude, these girls are fast!  My coach tells me they turned around before the half-way mark.  Many of the runners really showed up to encourage me on my first 13.1, and thus, running this distance is not really anything big for them.  A few minutes later, I saw a flash of red running towards us sticking his hand out for a high-five.  This dude was fast.  It looked as though this guy was actually sprinting, and doing so with a smile. 

We were running most of the race on a trail along the Portage canal which made for beautiful scenery.  When we hit mid-point, we were in Chassell, the town I live in. We busted a U-turn and headed back to Houghton.  After the mid-way point, conversation slowed down.  Lilia was still in front of me, not just pacing me, but also showing me how cool it looks to run in flawless form.  It was inspiring, but I was beginning to feel a little tired — more tired than I did on my practice runs.  Before the race started, I’d taken some ibuprofen so my right knee wouldn’t act up.  Two weeks ago, it’d given me some problems and I had to cut my two-hour run short.  But I’d done very little running since then to prevent injury and was feeling the effects of two weeks of minimal training. 

And then it started getting dark.  Trails in the dark made the race interesting.  At one point, it was so dark that I could barely see Lilia in front of me.  But still there was no talking.  I was trying to tell myself that if I was working for it, I was working too hard.  I’d slow down a little and try to take my time and enjoy the run.  However, as it got darker, it was to the point that I thought Lilia was running toward me while at the same time getting farther away — a weird optical illiusion.  With about three miles to go, we decided to get off the super dark trail and run on the main highway.  It was still dark.

I knew that the last 1.5 miles was a steady up-hill.  We could see some lights every now and then, but in between it was dark.  And then I got my inspiration again.  I imagined myself running at the end of an Ironman.  I pretended in my mind to have finished a swim and a bike ride and to be following the leader in first place.  I think of my friend Chris Lundquist who ran 10 miles without even building up to it and rescued me when my knee gave out.  I’m wearing the visor Dave gave to me that pretty much forced me to train for a 70.3.  I get another burst of energy.  I looked at my watch.  It said I had two miles to go.  I tried to catch Lilia to run by her side.  She sped up to keep the same distance she’d kept up all along. 

We turn up the steep hill for a half mile incline.  I’m running so slow that a speed-walker can pass me up.  We turn right for the last mile and we start up the conversation again.  Cars are passing by us.  I’m sure they’re wondering why in the world we’re running in the dark.  They don’t know we’re running the Northwoods Endurance inaugural half-marathon.  A truck coming towards us slows down, passes us, and turns around.  They’re our two coaches: Rick and Chris.  They yell out a few cheers of encouragement.  A few hundred yards ahead, we see another car that has it’s lights on but is not moving.  That must be Agustin.  It is.

Lilia looks back at me and asks, “Do you wanna finish sprinting it?”  I tell her that I thought I was already sprinting.  She doesn’t catch my joke, and encourages me a little.  I make a break for it.  She let’s me catch up a little and we go at it. 

We finish.

Exactly 13.18 miles of running.  Something I’ve never done before in my life!  My coach gives me a hug and says “You did it, man!”  I think, he must be proud — of himself.  It’s only because of his coaching that I’ve been able to do this.  I’m thinking he must feel like one of those teachers that has a horrible student that somehow still manages to graduate on the genius of the teacher alone.  Agustin hands us a waterbottle with the best tasting Gatorade I’ve ever had.  They hook us up with the best edible medals ever — a chocolate donut hanging on cherry flavored licorice.  Then Rick hands me a silver dollar chocolate or gum (haven’t opened it yet).  We take pictures.  Agustin and Lilia’s little girl has endured as much as anyone running the race, and we all know we’ve kept her up past her bedtime.  We head home.

I’m tired and happy. 

I celebrate with my best fans — my beautiful wife and my two older sons who stayed up for me.

After the race with Manu and Micah.

I don’t know if they’re more happy that Daddy’s home, that they got to stay up late, or that they’re eating junk food.  This won’t happen again… unless I finish a full iron!

Micah excited to wear Daddy’s visor — he took it off my head.
  
Manu joins me at the end of one of my brick workouts.  Nice form, Manu!