Closure + Grammatical Correction - Mulier Ferrea

This will probably be my last entry in this blog, since I created this to track the progress of my first IM, which I completed. I did, however, want to make a correction before I sign-off.

Recently, a friend, who took many more years of Latin than I did and remembers it well, corrected my Latin and thus, blog title. Grammatically, it should be "Mulier Ferrea." Since the IM is over and that blog chapter is closed, I've decided not to fix the blog title and URL. Nevertheless, I wanted to post that my title is grammatically incorrect. Who knew that in my IM journey I'd also learn more Latin.

"Swim 2.4 Miles Bike 112 Miles Run 26.2 Miles - Brag for the Rest of Your Life"

Race Photos from ASI
http://asiorders.com/view_user_event.asp?EVENTID=45836&BIB=2204&LNSEARCH=1

I can't take credit for the title for this entry, and I don't know who wrote it originally, but it appears in the Ironman motivational video. I've watched the video a few times and every time I'd hear and see the segment I'd get emotional. I wanted to become an Ironman, and on June 21st, 2009, I became one at Ironman Coeur D'Alene.

Today, everything feels the same despite the huge event last Sunday, but these life defining moments that happen in one day aren't about one day. I'm a believer in it's more about the journey than the destination. The destination gives me bragging rights, but the journey shapes me. Am I a better person for doing an Ironman? Do I feel superhuman? No. But, did I have a good time? Did I learn a lot? Absolutely.

This entry is broken up into 2 parts - click ahead to Race Day if you aren't interested in the mushy journey stuff:

1) Leading Up to Race Day
2) Race Day

Leading Up to Race Day

There wasn't a single day that led to wanting to do an Ironman. It happened in a slow process. I don't come from a sporty family or childhood, unless you count the 1 or 2 weeks of track my freshman year in high school. Motivation to workout came after gaining 40+ lbs my first year in undergrad and going home that winter break to affectionately blunt family members, who weren't afraid to point out my newly acquired roundness.

An abridged progression through sports goes something like this: become a gym rat during freshman year of undergrad > start running > do more running (half marathons) > get injured running > learn how to swim > do a marathon > do a few shorter distance tri's > do a half Ironman > take a semi-hiatus to go to b-school > move to LA and start training for another half Ironman > go into Ironman OCD mode: read blogs, race reports, training programs + bug Mr. Brough about it...

Then, 1 year ago I registered for CDA, because races sell out 1 year in advance. I picked CDA because of the time of year. It was around the time that I was considering it, so I figured I better sign up before I change my mind. Also, I admit the course looked "doable" unlike Lake Placid and Canada, which both have gnarly hills.

The next big step was getting a coach. I decided if I were going to do this, I would need a coach. It would take all the guesswork about what I needed to do to get me to race day. Also, at the time I didn't personally know a soul who did Ironmans. Thus, I contacted a coaching company that works with the LA Tri Club and was put in touch with this amazing, rockin', female, 60-something Ironman triathlete, Cherie Gruenfeld, who recommended that I have a nice long base period given I didn't have much of a background in triathlons and especially, being my first Ironman.

On August 25th, 2008 I started working with Cherie and began training and tracking my time and miles. Some approximate stats - give or take a few miles (not including race day):

Swim ~123 miles
Bike ~2,978 miles
Run ~655 miles

Lots happened in those miles - a few notable realizations, experiences, and lessons learned (in no particular order):

#1 I cried after a few of my hardest workouts
#2 I have a hidden talent for not getting bored with staring at the bottom of a pool for hours
#3 I can do a 10+ hour workout by myself
#4 I don't mind sitting in a tub of ice for 15-20 minutes as long as I have music
#5 I actually like cycling (though I suck at it)
#6 I actually like swimming (though I suck at it)
#7 I learned better mental positive attitude
...oh, yeah...revise #5 and #6
#5 I actually like cycling (though I can and will improve)
#6 I actually like swimming (though I can and will improve)
...
#8 I love running, like really love it (though I can and will improve)
#9 I don't mind consuming over a dozen powerbar gels in a day
(for those who have never experienced the fine food of electrolyte gels: imagine trying to down a 110-calorie shot of sweet syrup that doesn't really taste that good every 30 minutes over the course of 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7+ hours)
#10 I can spell "Coeur D'Alene" without having to double-check the spelling
#11 I married someone low maintenance, like really low maintenance, but more importantly, I married someone who never doubted my abilities, judged my decisions, or questioned my sanity. I lost count of how many times Brough said to me, "Come on, babe. You can do it!"

Finally, after all those months of training, the Race Weekend is here. The first few days include travel, sign waivers, roam the expo, practice swims, poke fun at all the dudes decked out in Ironman gear and m-dot tattoos, pack race day bags, set up transitions, drive the run course, drive the bike course, install my bottle cage and pedals, and watch a lot of TV in the hotel room.

One of many big thanks goes to Cherie, because she gave me a checklist and a schedule for the 3 days leading up to the race. I just had to follow the schedule. Moreover, it all seemed relatively easy, which I attribute to the training - I planned and packed my nutrition and gear like I did in training all those months leading up to race day. Some tasks seemed second nature.

A few stats - I stole the idea to post this from reading other race reports:

Participants
2153 make it to race day (more than 2200 are registered)
121 do not finish (DNF)

26% female (up 2% from last year - reminds me of being at Tepper, except I doubt > 2/3 have engineering or science backgrounds)
74% male

Weight-Loss
Someone lost over 140 lbs training for CDA!

Oldest and Youngest
Oldest Male: 73 (his girlfriend & training partner is 57(!), which we learned at the Athlete's Banquet. Mike Riley, the voice of Ironman, said he really is an Ironman ;))
Oldest Female: 67
Youngest Male: 18
Youngest Female: 20

Countries with the Most Representation
#1 US
#2 Canada
#3 Mexico
(#2 would've been California, if it were a country)

Race Day

Brough and I were in bed by 8PM the night before, and I fell asleep sometime before 9PM. Surprisingly, I slept well. The day is finally here.

4AM - wake-up and do what I think is one of the hardest parts of the day: eat > 600 calories. I learned the hard way that if I don't eat a good breakfast, I bonk, so while I hate eating this early in the morning, I sit miserably and consume 2 whole wheat bagels with peanut butter and drink 2 juice boxes, Trader Joe's apple-grape, which are yummy but 100 calories each! Easy calories but a drink I'd avoid if I weren't training or racing.

5AM'ish - leave hotel with swim gear, etc

Between 5:30AM and 7:00AM - arrive at race site and follow to-do list:
(1) Check transition bags - swim-to-bike (T1) bags, bike-to-run (T2) bags.
(2) Check bike - computer working, brakes aren't rubbing, and then, freak out a bit about asking to borrow a bike pump. (Lesson learned: Cherie said to bring my own but I didn't want to pack it. Next time - just bring one. I hated borrowing one.)

Then, watch pros start the swim at 6:25AM, giggle because there is one pro with a full beard (so cute), try to eat a banana, dry heave a few times while trying to eat banana because of nerves, use the restroom, suit up, and walk onto the beach. I take a dip in the water for a minute or so, and then, stand on the beach with 2000+ people.

7:00AM - I don't really hear a gun (like Cherie said would happen), and suddenly, people are scrambling for towards the water...so, time to go!

Swim 2.4 Miles

This was what I was most worried about. Mass start swim with 2000+ other people!? Are you kidding me!?!? But, when I get to the beach, it's not as crowded as I thought it'd be. We're not standing shoulder-to-shoulder like it looks in the pictures. Also, we were lucky this year with the water temps. The past couple of years the water temperatures have been in the 50s, while this year it's 64/65! I love ocean swimming and have done the Alcatraz swim a couple of times, so mid-60s is like bath water, when you're in a wetsuit.

For the few moments before gun start, I focus on what Cherie said in one of her talks - don't think about all 140.6 miles, just what's ahead: the first buoy. That's what I say to myself - get me to that first buoy.

It was surprisingly less chaotic than I expected - perhaps because I waited a few seconds on the beach to avoid the initial craziness. There were no kicks on the chest like in other races. I bumped into a few folks which is normal, and my bad, I smacked some dude in the face. As soon as I felt that I had hit someone, I looked up briefly to see that I knocked his goggles out of alignment but not completely off, said a quick "sorry," felt bad for a few moments, hoped he didn't see who I was, and moved on.

Crowds were one thing but choppiness was another. The winds made for a turbulent swim. I felt like I was swimming in a washing machine on wash cycle. Also, the banana didn't sit well with me at all, and I gave up a bit of it.

After saying "just get me to that next buoy" about 20 times, I had to get out of the water and do another loop. When it was all said and done, it wasn't bad at all. I learned, however, that I need to do more open water swimming, because I was zig-zagging a lot.

Swim Goal Swim Time: 1:30:00
Swim Actual Swim Time: 1:36:35 (76 out of 100 in my age group, 1809 out of 2032 among all finishers)

T1

The transitions are always a blur. I got out of the water and briskly walked over to the wetsuit strippers. There are volunteers to help you get out of your wetsuits in Ironman races! I had a very authoritative wetsuit stripper who commanded me to get on the ground, so he could yank off my suit. I did as I was told, he handed me my wetsuit, and ordered me to turn around to grab my transition bag. Another bad, I totally forgot to thank him, but I loved how authoritative he was, because it kept me focused on what I needed to do.

I, then, skipped the hot tub (yes, there's a hot tub, because some years the swim is really cold) and walked over to the changing tent where there are more loads of volunteers to help me change. I just tell a volunteer what I want to use. I changed into cycling shorts and put on my helmet and sunglasses but said no to arm warmers, vest, and gloves. The volunteer cleans up after me, I say a quick thanks, and then, I'm off again to the next station: goopy sunscreen. More volunteers helped me to apply a bit of sunscreen on my face and shoulders. That stuff was so thick that it never absorbed, and I had big white patches on my shoulders until the rain later in the day washed it off.

Finally, after all that and another set of thank you's to the volunteers, I grabbed my bike, and left T1. I saw Brough at the mount area, waved to him, and was off.

Time: 00:08:38

Bike 112 Miles

Bike is always the most brutal for me. It's the longest segment of race, and it's the discipline I like the least. Also, it's the discipline, which relative to the other 2 needs the most work. I ride at a snails pace - kind of like my swimming but a slow swim is a matter of minutes, while a slow bike can be an hour.

We ride out of transition through town, out and back along the lake, back through town and then, do this ride into the woods, where there are a bunch of rolling hills. We have to do this twice, because it's a looped course. The first loop went by pretty quickly at least mentally but the 2nd loop seemed like a lifetime. I was supposed to negative split the bike but I think I did the 2nd loop like 20 minutes slower.

Brough said that folks were complaining about how windy it got on the bike, so maybe the wind had something to do with it. I'm not really great at evaluating my performance or the conditions (another thing to work on), so I don't really know what it was, but whatever it was it made for a sluggish 2nd loop.

Bike Goal Time: 7:00
Bike Actual Time: 7:32:16 (76/100 in my age group, 1878/2032 among all finishers)

T2

This transition was easy, although I was somewhat nervous about whether I'd have running legs, because during the bike I stopped to pee and discovered my glutes were tight. (Side note - For the life of me I could not pee while on the bike, like I was supposed to. I tried but to no avail. Yes, folks, endurance triathletes and cyclists pee on their bikes. It's gross, but it's what we do, but apparently, I can't yet.)

However, as soon as I got off the bike, I was moving pretty quickly through the transition. I grabbed my bag and went into the changing tent, where there were more volunteers. A volunteer helped me dump out my bag and set out my stuff while I changed. I quickly changed my shorts and put on my socks, shoes, visor, and sunglasses. The volunteer commented and said, "Wow! You're a quick changer." I said thanks and left. She cleaned up after me. Another props to the volunteers!

Time: 00:3:11

Run 26.2 Miles

My reward. I LOVE running. I often say to myself, "Just get through the bike: the run is your reward." While I was happy to be on the run, it was not easy. I couldn't get my legs to move as quickly as I had hoped, and the course was challenging for me mentally. Like the swim and bike the run is a 2-loop course.

We run out of transition to do an out and back along this path along the lake, go through town, a few neighborhoods, and then, back along the river on another path. We turn around at the top of a hill, which we rode up on the bike, and then, back to where we started. We have to do this twice. I hated the first loop, and I said like a broken record player "just get me to that next mile" for every mile of the run. I especially hated going back through town and hearing the voice of Ironman, Mike Riley, say "so-and-so from so-and-so You are an Ironman!" when I was finishing my 1st loop.

I realized how hard of a time I was having, when I saw Brough around mile 14 and got choked up. I made sure to smile, when I saw him, because I remembered the first time I saw him on the run, right out of T1, he had yelled out, "Where is that beautiful smile!?"

After all the 1st loop drama, however, I start to toughen up. I think my legs are actually moving slower, but I'm getting more focused, and my spirits start to lift, because I love the higher miles. I had promised myself prior to the race: no walking (only through aid stations).

When I get focused, I lose track of my surroundings and the last 10 miles went by pretty quickly mentally. The rain had stopped, winds had died down, but it was still cold and the sun was setting. I didn't really notice, though. At mile 20 or so a woman asked me if my hands were cold. I smiled and said "No, but thanks" and then, realized that they were, in fact, cold.

After that last turn around, I was finally heading back to town and was still saying "just get me to the next mile" for the next 4 miles. Each of those last few miles were getting tougher, and the temptation to walk was growing, but yet, another Cherie saying popped into my head: "Champions are made when no one is looking." I realized that if I stopped to walk for the last 2 or 3 miles only I would know and care. And, who is my worst critic? So, I keep going.

By the time I got to mile 24 it was dark, and I was on a search for the mile 25 marker, but it never came. It was too dark to see it, and before I knew it a spectator or volunteer told me that all I had left were a couple of turns before I could see the downhill to the finish. I say to myself, but I didn't see mile 25!

Finally, I turned that last corner, and I could see the finish. The crowds and cheers were getting louder as I approached. I was beaming, totally ecstatic, and relieved. Then, I heard it, "Treven Ho from Los Angeles, You are an Ironman!"

I did it. I totally did it.
(And, that's exactly what I said to Brough, when I saw him at the finish line.)

Run Goal Time: 4:30
Run Actual Time: 4:59:12 (46/100 in my age group, 1227/2032 among all finishers)

Total Goal Time: 13:10
Total Actual Time: 14:19:50 (61/100 in my age group, 1582/2032 among all finishers)

Am I disappointed that I didn't make my time goals? No, not really. Ok, maybe a little - I really wanted to see a 13 in the hour slot, but there are too many things that went right to be too upset. And, you know...there's always next time! ;)

Trying Not to Freak Out

Ironman CDA, my first Ironman, is in less than a week. When I first started my taper a couple weeks back, I was too exhausted from peak phase to feel nervous. Also, the race still seemed too far out. But, now!?

Right now I'm anxious, because I'm not entirely pain and injury-free, which I really wanted. In fact, going into an Ironman healthy and finishing healthy were the primary reasons I got a coach and started training so long ago. However, a couple weeks back I somehow tweaked my left knee and then, my shin splints came back. UGH. I guess, it happens, and I'm doing my best not to freak out and obsess about it.

Key words: "doing my best." It doesn't mean that I'm entirely OCD-free, so right now I'm managing around my obsession with performing web searches on every permutation of a query containing the key words "shin splints." Just last night my husband looked over my shoulder to look at my computer screen and started calling out a bunch of other query possibilities as a way to mock me. It made me laugh, b/c this is his endearing way of making me realize what I'm doing. Although he was making fun of me, he also said something last night that settled me a bit. My husband has this wonderful, magical way of keeping me in check. He said that I should focus on what I've been doing, which I learned in physical therapy: icing and stretching and then, take it day-by-day. Thus, that's now my focus.

The shin splints are improving with each day and my tweaked left knee is nearly entirely healed, so with 4 more days of icing, resting, and stretching I'm hopeful that on race day I'll be good to go.

2 Phases Down, 2 To Go

Triathlon training (assuming you follow a structured plan) comprises of 4 phases:

* base
* build
* peak
* taper

I had a long-ass base (Sept - Dec) and fairly long build as recommended by my coach, since this is my first Ironman. I've completed base and build and now 2 weeks into peak phase. These 3 weeks are intended to be the toughest of the entire training program: intensity combined with long distances.

So far I'm handling it beautifully and can't complain too much. At first I didn't think it was making me tired, but since fatigue has a way of catching up with you, admittedly I'm pretty tired but good nonetheless.

Last weekend included an epic workout for me. On Saturday I did a long brick comprised of a 90-mile bike ride followed by a 16-mile run. I was really nervous leading up to it, but I also tried not to think about it too much. Nevertheless, I did mention it to a couple folks, including a gym buddy, and I have to thank him. He gave me a mantra for the day. When I told him that I was nervous about the workout, he responded, "You'll do it. You're a soldier," so my mantra became, "I'm a soldier." Cheesy? Yeah, probably. But, I added that phrase to my mental bank as a support measure. It's amazing how much another person's faith in you can give you that little bit of extra confidence to help carry you through so many miles.

I had some tough spots, especially on the bike. In fact, I had a few mini-breakdowns. However, throughout I kept my doubts in check and reminded myself that the run was my reward. I got off the bike and was amazed. I could run! The last few run miles were tough - I really had to focus but they were also manageable, so I did it! I totally did it. I'm really doing this...

Ironman 70.3 California

On April 4th, 2009 I finished my 3rd Ironman 70.3. This race was on "Ironman training" legs, and overall I felt amazing. It's strange to consider this a training race, when every other time before, the 70.3's were my big race for the year.

Nevertheless, I was excited to do this race, because I have fond memories of this particular one, which was my first 70.3 in 2004 and the race my husband and I did together before the eventful summer that included quitting my job, getting married, and driving cross-country to Pittsburgh to attend business school. I love the course and hope and expect to have this race on my calendar every year.

Rather than re-writing a custom report for this blog, I'll just share what I sent to my coach, Cherie...

Swim - pretty straight forward. I didn't have any pre-race jitters at start like I normally do. I think because I've been more diligent with the swimming in the Ironman training. I'm much more comfortable in the water. Also, 2 weeks prior my husband and I had made a trip down to San Diego to visit friends. I set aside some time to do a 2-mile ocean swim at La Jolla Cove. I got a feel for the water temperature and when the swim was over, I felt great, so that training swim definitely boosted my confidence.

T1 - felt great. I normally do a jog/walk to my bike and feel like I have to recover a little, but this time I was running to my bike and ready to go.

Bike - of all 3 this was a little frustrating. It was tougher than what I remembered, and while I felt like I put in a good, hard effort, my time was off. I was primarily disappointed though, because I got a drafting penalty, especially since I'm such a stickler for the rules and always watch that I keep a good distance from other competitors. In some ways I think I got a raw deal, because I had passed a guy on a hill and that same guy just at the cusp of the hill passed me on the right and then positioned himself in front of me. Funny enough as I was riding on and questioning the penalty, another competitor who saw the whole thing rode up next to me to tell me that she felt bad for me, because she thought the penalty was unfair. It was nice to get the support, but in the end I just have to be careful about stuff like that and get out of the way, so as not to leave anything up for interpretation. The officials saw what they saw, so I'm just trying to move on. (On a fun note - The penalty box gave me a chance to chat with other athletes, and we shared our "war" stories, so that was cool.)

T2 - The 4-min penalty got added to my T2, so I would've met my transitions goal w/out the penalty. Like T1 I still felt really great and was eager to start the run.

Run - I'm becoming more aware that this is by far my favorite discipline. Ironically, while I was disappointed by the draft penalty, it ended up fueling my determination to have a good, solid run. I also remembered from your talks and book that the guidance is as soon as I finish one discipline I put it behind me; thus, as soon as I got out of the penalty box, I put both the bike and the penalty behind me and did my best to have a good time on the run. I felt fantastic, and whenever someone called out my name and cheered, I waved and smiled.

Overall, I had a great time and in large part to how I generally felt. I've never felt so good during and after a race. I was amazed at how strong I was running even through the transitions, and I'm really glad I enjoy running, because it has me ending races on a great note.

...that's what I sent it, and it pretty much sums up the race for me.

My goal for this race was 6 hrs 24 mins -
(swim) 42 mins (bike) 3 hrs 20 mins (run) 2 hrs 15 mins (T1 + T2) 7 mins

My actual was 6:44:21 -
(swim) 43:22 (T1) 4:02 (bike) 3:39:37 (T2) 6:50 (inc. 4-min drafting penalty) (run) 2:10:32

Even though I didn't consider this an ideal race, it was still a PR for me and an improvement from the first time I did this race in 2004. Also, the feedback from my coach was reassuring. She mentioned that I handled the penalty well and not too many competitors would have.

I'm getting that much closer to CDA!

Pasadena Half Marathon Inaugural Redux

Last Sunday on March 22nd I ran the Pasadena Half Marathon with my brother and his friend. It was their first half marathon, so congrats to Bing and Z!

This race was aptly coined the "Inaugural Redux," because it was originally scheduled in November but was canceled due to the fires.

The half marathon and marathon had an early start 6:30AM, which I LOVE having recently converted to a morning person. It was still dark when we drove from my brother's place to Pasadena City College, where the race started. The weather wasn't too bad at first. It was cool and drizzling but then, about 10 minutes before the start it began pouring. We were soaked even before the gun start. Nevertheless, it was a typical start with a slow walk with the crowd until we reached the start line timing mats and took off.

Overall it was a great race and very well-organized. The weather was good to us for the most part - the only rain to report was at the start and for a few minutes in the middle of the race. My only complaint was the traffic and directions to the start line. All eastbound traffic was directed to take a single exit on the 210, so we hardly moved for 15 minutes waiting at the exit. Finally, I decided to ditch the line and drive to the next exit. My brother navigated us towards the race, and we parked only a couple blocks from the start line. It paid to ditch the directions.

This is my 3rd half marathon for 2009 and my 4th since I have been battling shin splints. My goal for this one was no goal! I was pretty excited not to have one for this race, although I really always should run with one. My coach and I, however, agreed that since I had been nursing my shins for so long it would be best to focus on running comfortably and then, save my hard effort for the Ironman California 70.3.

There were a few challenging hills but the course was beautiful and generally flat with the last 3 miles almost all downhill. I managed my pace pretty well and finished in 2:00:27 - 27 seconds shy of breaking 2 hours. While it would have been nice to break 2 hours again, it's still my 2nd fastest half marathon and best of all, I ran SHIN-SPLINTS-FREE!!!

Being able to run w/out injury is such a relief. Now, I'm feeling more confident and really excited about the half Ironman on April 4th.

7-Month Check-in

Have I really completed 7 months of Ironman training!? When all is said and done, I'll have trained for one-week shy of 10 months. I'm more than half way into this journey and continuing to learn a lot by each passing day and month.

* "Eighty percent of success is showing up" (Woody Allen) applies to Ironman training. There are have been countless mornings and evenings that I do not want to train: I fight myself every step of the way leading up to the moment I dip my feet into the water, clip into my pedals, or hit the pavement; and I expect many more of these moments. However, I've come to accept that while it may take me a long time to get out of the house on those days; once I'm out there, I'm committed. To date, I've only had one unplanned skipped workout due to laziness or tiredness. I regretted skipping so much that I haven't let myself skip again. Just getting my ass out there is a big contributor to consistency.

* Physical therapy is crucial for overcoming injuries as an athlete. When I wasn't training for the Ironman, I would just take entire weeks or months off, i.e. do absolutely nothing, and this, of course, works. Your body heals but you also sacrafice your performance and progress. With the Ironman I couldn't afford to do this, so I went to physical therapy. For the past several months (yes, I've been battling shin splints for months) there were times I was convinced my injury would never go away, but finally, last week I ran normally! No pain, no shin splints!

* I can run and ride alone. Mentally and physically this is not a problem for me: I don't need group rides or a training buddy to get myself out there or to finish a workout. One could say that I'm an anti-social athlete. I get into such a zone and focus that time and miles fly by. Sometimes I'm unaware of my environment or surroundings. On one winter long run, I was running loops at Griffith Park, which was decorated for the holidays. I was on my 2nd or 3rd loop before I noticed I was running within a few feet of a gigantic 20+ foot tall Christmas tree. I think this makes for funny training memories, but I also realized this focus or perhaps total oblivion keeps me in check mentally and emotionally during difficult moments. There might be strong headwind, chilly descents, road obstacles, or heat to battle, but most of the time I don't notice or remember.