i'll take it

there were two full days of being a complete bitch and feeling sorry for myself.  i'm not sure i'm over the complete bitch part and still feel bad for the parking attendant that had to deal with me exiting the doctors office parking garage.   years ago i might have welcomed the break and some might think, based on the way i talk, that i might have welcomed it this time around.....but i did not. i do not.

a few years ago i injured my ankle in a "just for fun"  soccer league in santa monica.  i got slide tackled by a guy and to date have never been in so much pain (note i have no children)  i was on bed rest for weeks and in a cast on my right leg for 16 weeks.  it was in typical stubborn form i allowed no help and listened selectively when the doctors told me to take it easy.  either way it was after that injury that i vowed to never take my ability to run for granted again, ever.  pulling me away from activity is like pulling a pacifier out of a babies mouth and the results, the same, kicking and screaming resumes and the end result is never good.

when i crashed on my bike i didn't feel it was a big deal, i rode after and chalked up the days following to "stiffness".  i visited the doctor to appease some people and thought maybe i sprained it.  turns out there was a little more.

i had two races on my calendar.  malibu and los angeles.  i had never raced either one and had both on my agenda for very different reasons.  the first was malibu.   it was the first race i would be doing solo. it was also the first race i watched someone else complete as their first triathlon.  i was excited to conquer this one alone because recently i realized it was my own journey.   the second was la also with a bit of a new beginning.  i won't and didn't compete in either and i have to know (this is impossible sometimes)  that this is in God's plan.

i also realize that i have so much to be thankful for and sometimes you need a kick in the rear to understand this.  of course it doesn't make the process any easier but it does make me think that there are different roads to travel, different paths to take.   there are breaks (or dislocations with torn ligaments) one needs in life, to just slow down.

i'm a little worried what the next few weeks will bring, someone put a bunch of chocolate in the trading room and i've already helped myself to a little to much.  someone was also already staring at me as i tried to run with the pup in DTLA. but i'll take a break. because as it turns out i'm not that crazy 20 year old anymore.  i'm now that fearless 35 year old and i'll pay the price even if it means a cast for 3 weeks (which i just negotiated down to 2 weeks, 6 days)

11 years later

this morning when i woke up i forgot.  maybe i tried to forget on purpose.  i went through my morning routine, tuned into cnbc and was reminded by the moment of silence on the somber new york stock exchange floor.

i stood there for a what seemed like much longer than a minute and began to once again tear at the mere thought of the events 11 years ago.  as the day progressed i got a little angry that people weren't more dedicated to the day.

i didn't run today although i now wish i had.  running was the escape i had 11 years ago when we were sent home from work.  i ran far, i ran fast and i ran silent.

the one question i get asked time and time again is what do you think about when you run? sometimes i don't have a good answer for that question because truthfully sometimes i just run to finish.  but not that day.  that day i ran to forget.  just like i tried to do this morning when i saw the calendar marked 9/11.

for the lives lost and the new lives that became of it.

i run.

back in the game.... i think

To be nobody-but-yourself -- in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else -- means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.

 -ee cummings

i have a bad (or somewhat) interesting habit of jumping in full throttle.  my friend noticed this at my first attempt at mountain biking in which he described the "curry no fear" technique as i flew over rocks, weaving in and out of trees and finally stopping with an exclamation of "i freaking love mountain biking!"

over the course of the past few years i've seemingly stepped up my game. not really on purpose. and its not just with sports, its everything i do.  passion? stupidity? curiosity?  most likely a mix of all three.  i'm so indecisive about so much, choosing an item from a dinner menu.... red or white.... renting or owning.... leasing or buying.... and i'm convinced i wear so much black, grey and white just so i don't have to mix and match colors everyday.

on the flip side when i find something that works, it works. end of story.

my trifecta of the swim, bike, run was also a leap of faith. the ironman(s), my reward.  this season started with a head first dive as well.  i was on track for a great season and i had a great couple of races.  then i lost my edge, fell off the wagon and headed back down the road i'd seen time and time again.  except this time it wasn't so dark, more just a little break from it all. but as with everything the extremist in me appeared and i let my bike and swim go.  these past weekends i've been hitting all three in preparation for my two oly's coming up, including the ocean swim part.  and it feels great.

i'm not sure what i'll jump into next and i'm a little scared to be honest.  and yes, there are times when i wish i could be a little less passionate/stupid/curious.  and sometimes i fear the passion has died.  but then i remember why i started in the first place and i go for it again.

head first, of course.

no ironmen allowed....

as i stumbled my way back into the gym this week and attempted to kick out a 5 miler on said treadmill    (i've been doing more sprint work than distance so i wasn't exactly embracing the 40 or so minute run that awaited me)  i found a working treadmill (finally) turned on SC, started with the up button and heard "no ironmen allowed on these treadmills"

 he struck up a conversation with me, noticing my finisher shirt and told me he had just sub 13'ed CDR.  we chatted a bit re la and malibu i mentioned my goals at both, we discussed times, he looked impressed when i said i did st. george.  (secretly i love the reaction i get when i tell people this, my first one and most arguably the hardest course in the circuit, yes this is bragging a little, i surprised myself and this goes with the if i can do it, ANYONE can do it)

the run that night was fantastic and again i surprised myself, i like when this happens.  as many know montgomery has reset my priorities in training but he has also reset my priorities in life.  he is the best addition now and always.  i've got two oly's coming up and my bike tires are still flat.  i contemplated heading back to "just running" and then remembered i like the mix of events, the unfamiliar.  i enjoy the swim now and i LOVE the run and the bike is my challenge.  i didn't start these events for an easy road but yet to challenge myself.   so here goes the challenge, september is going to be a good month.  two olympics and hoping to podium, God willing.  being bumped up in AG helps too.

i reflect back to a blog post from my amazing friend/pseudo coach lizz, following my first ironman...http://www.gppfitness.com/endurance/2011/5/11/ironman-st-george-2011-re-cap.html

so tonight i walked the pup and put some air in the giant avail II tires.  just because we were on a break doesn't mean we stopped.

Friday the 13th.

tomorrow i turn 35.   35.  five years away from 40.  number 13 the first time i "inhaled" a cigarette at erin mooneys pool. 21 entered legal drinking and a limo ride. 26 was a brave venture out to the west coast to find the missing piece.  and at 33 i lost a piece.  


and oddly enough,  i feel more ready than ever to face the future.  dare i say, i'm excited?  


i started the 2012 racing "season" with a handful of races.  a dualthon in which i podiumed for the first time ever. killed my PR in a very hilly 10k.  averaged 20.4 in an olympic on the bike and finished my 4th marathon in 3:55.  i made the decision to give myself the summer off (well technically the puppy made that decision for me) but i will admit its nice to just sit back and relax for once.  a little less pressure on myself.  my workout goals are geared more toward clearing my head than anxiously prepping for a race, stalking my competition and trying to remember if i remembered my googles, bike, and sneakers!  i'm enjoying the view.  its a sweet, sweet change. 


triathlons are probably the only sport where being in your "30's and 40's" place you in your  prime.  so there you have it people... at 35 i've seemingly landed myself smack in the middle of my prime. 


HBTM. 

invisible dreams

a few years ago i made a decision to start the sport of triathlon.  i finished a super sprint in hermosa beach california and you would have thought i conquered mount Everest.  in my mind that day i did.  i swam in the ocean "competitively", i rode a hybrid bike with a funny helmet and the anxiety of being last to the finish line diminished as i made my way into transition to the 5k run along an all to familiar course of the strand. the strand is a cement walkway that runs the length of the beach and the view never gets old.  if there is one item from my beach days that i miss its long morning runs along the strand.

after the super sprint i decided i wanted to try another one. i wasn't "hooked" per se but i needed and wanted a new challenge.  to me it was more like the thrill of chasing the next goal not so much the sport itself.   i completed a Olympic distance next in washington dc in the pouring rain with a new bike, googles and a wetsuit that i owned and a run with support of family and friends.   and then in the true spirit of chasing down the dream i signed up for an ironman distance triathlon.  i knew nothing more than i knew when i signed up for that super sprint but i knew myself and what i was capable of and i was pretty sure it would allow me to lose the last ten pounds i'd been working on for the majority of my lifetime.  it didn't and in fact i think i might have gained some weight just this time more from 4 am workouts and two a days then from a small pizza and ice cream post bender at the bar.  and even if i still looked the same i didn't feel the same.  and that was the important part that i needed to be concerned with.

it got me here. where i needed to be today.  i've stopped trying to plan five years ahead and been okay with "the moment"  this comes and goes and i can't say that tomorrow i'll be back to not wanting the unattainable.  i spend to many nights wondering if i'll ever lose that extra ten pounds,  if i'll ever accomplish the high invisible goal i've set for myself.  i hung up training.  i left my coach.  my bike tires are flat and my googles haven't had a run at the water in probably a month.  but my running shoes still come out on top.  my navy blue nike shorts that i have literally owned for 10 years are still my favorite and i still change outfits 16 times before hitting the gym.  and i've finally been okay with this.

because even if i'm unsure of this dream, i'm still finding a way to live in the moment.

what was missing

i found it. 

 for years i've struggled with a missing link, what my purpose was in life, how to rechannell my energy to something that i felt would fill the void that i'd only heard so many talk about.

 "the weight was lifted"

 i'd waited for that. i did. i started endurance racing hoping that was the answer but found out later it was just a step.  a step in a direction that i had no idea where or what was going to come of it but it felt right. and nothing about it led me to belivie, this is where it would take me. 

one of my favorite quotes (outside of everything robert frost) is by Deepak Chopra; it says

"Whatever relationships you have attracted in your life at this moment, are precisely the ones you need in your life at this moment. There is a hidden meaning behind all events, and this hidden meaning is serving your own evolution.”

now i will admit when i first read this quote it was at a time in my life that i didn't want to hear it . it was along the lines of "everything happens for a reason" the number one quote that made me want to punch someone in the face at the very sound of.  but now, as time does, it healed. it healed the wounds and brought greater meaning to the verse.
i have had so many things taken from me that i trickled down the path of "woe is me" where that got me was straight back to the dead end of nothing. it wasn't until i started living that i realized everything does happen for a reason. there are people (or four legged friends) that cross our paths to shape us into who we should be, who we are capable of being, and lifting that rock. maybe not all at once, but in small increments that makes the whole puzzle come together.

my new love is my puppy, Montgomery, he is in a word, perfect. he is perfect because even if i got him a week earlier i'm not sure it would have worked. he came into my life at exactly the right moment. the moment when God thought i was faltering, i was giving up hope once again. so that "weight" might not be fully lifted but the love i have for "monty" and the love he has for me is indescribable. its what i need, right now at this moment.

he is my new running buddy, my new hiking buddy, and my new reason to get the hell out of bed each day.  oh yea... and he's a pit, described as head strong.   you can't say the apple falls very far from the tree.

rematch - la marathon

number 4 is in the books.  i had a rematch with 26.2 in the streets of los angeles on sunday and based on how my legs feel today i might say the streets won.  based on my time i'll call it a tie.

i sat down to write the race report yesterday, started typing and stopped.  i hit delete and went to bed.

i hit delete because the entire post was negative.  the entire post.

the race report on the marathon is short.  the weather was supposed to be rainy, cold, and windy.  in fact, i sat at lunch the day prior talking myself out of even participating.  for those that know me they realize this was never ACTUALLY going to happen but i wanted a buffer in case i crashed and burned.   so i complained, got myself a handicap and prayed to the holy heavens that the wind and rain would not screw up my hopes of doing well.   my coach, said to me before the race "you are not a runner, you are a triathlete"  not a runner?  that is all i've ever known was to be a runner.  in addition, to this new conversation with my coach, i had another conversation with my friend jonathan who mentioned something about boston marathon and qualifying and just like i downplay everything else i think my response was "oh i have no desire to qualify for boston"

so here is what was supposed to happen...

i wasn't supposed to go out like a competitive freak and start the first 6 miles wondering if my garmin was off because there was no way in hell i was running 7:30 miles in a MARATHON! then it wasn't supposed to be perfect running conditions with blue skies and minimal wind.   i wasn't supposed to look up in a sea of 25,000 at the start line and happen to be standing literally right next to jonathan who i left 20 minutes prior.  for the record, i also wasn't supposed to catch up to him running through echo park.  it was a bitter sweet moment because as much as my competitive drive was excited to be up there with the 3:25 pace group i knew i had no business being there that early in the game.  for the life of me i couldn't slow down, i knew i had to, i knew it was going to break me later in the course but i couldn't do it. so i kept moving and then we hit beverly hills.  i knew only one persons exact location on the course and it was that of my awesome friend, jackie glenn.  she is an athlete herself and always a support system for me while running.  she mentioned she would be outside of neimann.  i looked for her with as much excitement as i search for joe joe's at Christmas time in Trader Joes.  i needed something to keep me going.  i saw her i think before she even saw me and i screamed "jackie!"  i got the push i needed for another few miles.

and then it hit me.  oddly enough right outside of my old office.  that sure as hell wasn't supposed to happen either.

there comes a time when you are out there on the course that you start to question everything.  you question your ability.  your reason for being  there. you have a mind set of what is supposed to happen.

but as with anything in life, we need to learn to adapt.  so i beat myself up yesterday for being on track for a 3:30 or even a 3:40 and dropping to a finish of 3:55.  and i'll take it. it's still a PR (new york was 3:58)  and like many things these past few years.  nothing was SUPPOSED to happen, but it did.  and that is why i'm now a triathlete.

oh and my boston qualifier?  its 3:40 which i googled just as soon as i got home that night.  i'm thinking i'll see beantown in 2013.

space book and podiums

one week ago tomorrow marks the beginning of lent and my attempt at no facebook for 40 days.

as a child, i remember going to the school chapel and having ashes placed on my forehead each ash wednesday. back then, the only thing it "signified" was something i had to do without, something i had to give up.   on occasion i gave up sweets and then later in life gave a run at no cursing until i realized that working on a trading floor would make that impossible, probably even for Jesus himself.

every year i would try and every year i would make it on average 3-4 days and give up.  eventually i got to the point where lent would come and go and so i gave up, giving up.

people ask me all the time "have you always been an athlete?"   this question is difficult for me to answer because up until earlier this year, even after two ironman finishes and a sub 4 hour NYC marathon in less than 6 months, i still had a hard time calling myself an athlete.   the answer to this question is yes and no.  yes, my parents had me on the soccer field while all my girlfriends were off trying to meet their thin mint quotas.  in fact, i have several soccer photos with me being the one and only girl on the team. then, i used sports as leverage to leave catholic school for the local public school (there were sports at the public school and there were also boys!)  and then again in high school i was chasing  my sister around the lacrosse field and also chasing the social scene with the same drive and determination.  i was the only person in high school that could talk her way out of a detention i received as a direct result of TALKING in class.

And no, because i always felt like there were people better than me, faster than me and that meant that i wasn't an athlete.  i was wrong.  it took me 34 years to figure it out but last weekend i made the podium for the first time ever in a race. first place, a small race but i'll take it.  turns out there are people i'm faster than, quite a few actually.  and today marks 6 days with no facebook.

success, its a beautiful thing.

trust your struggle

sometimes life seems to move at warp speed.  days turn into weeks, months into years. and for a long time it seemed that nothing was changing at all for me.  it was if the world was moving and i was standing still.

stuck.

one year ago i signed up for a triathlon training camp in st george utah.  my reason being it would allow me to preview the ironman course and hold me accountable to do so. i went into the experience with the expectation of getting in a very expensive four day workout.

what i came away with, was much, much more.  i started to move that weekend literally and emotionally.  i let my guard down, felt a few (not all) weights lift and met my utah "family".  and less than a year later i found myself exiting the 15 North Freeway on my way to St. George, once again to race.

when i started "racing" in 2000 it was for a 10 miler down broad street in philadelphia.  i had hopes of just finishing and now this, a 10 miler,  is my training run.  the day before my first ironman i received numerous texts, emails and phone calls from people that humbled me in a way that is unimaginable. one of these emails came from my oldest sister who would send me pictures at the most pivotal points in my life,  the first being when i had my heart broken and the second when i went to repair it.  i recall the day vividly it was the day before ironman and i had drug my mom around to every last training event there was, she was a trooper.   my sister sent me an email with a picture that said "trust your struggle".  it was in that moment that i broke into tears and was overcome for the first time with ultimate emotion.  its true that when you feel you have nothing else to lose, as i felt that day, that you can achieve whatever lies before you. because the alternative is really nothing worse than what you have already experienced.  

if i failed it wouldn't matter because whatever was next was better than where i had been.  two years later i'm ready to admit that, ready to face the fear and ready to move on.

i've since been killing PR's like it was my second job.  i've come to the conclusion that no matter what lies ahead is only because one year ago i decided to "trust my struggle", dig deep and accomplish.

the road is long from here, i know that.  and as robert frost once said:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

st george was just another city on the map.  it was in utah and that was all i knew.  today its my ultimate inspiration.

the past: is just that.

Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat.

-Theodore Roosevelt

on december 31, 2010 at midnight i was asleep.  i wanted the entire year washed away so quickly that i think i thought if i slept through the ball drop into 2011 i could sleep away the events of the preceding 365 days.  it didn't work.   

on december 31, 2011 at midnight i was in a very different place, hollywood to be exact, but a very different place all together more importantly.

among other things i've decided this year to get serious.  serious.  yes, serious about racing.  i said before, in prior posts and my pre 2012 life that i wasn't going to become "that racer", "that triathlete", "that person"  whatever any of those meant exactly it wasn't going to be me.  however, in a very short period of time i've realized that i actually can become that person.  i can reach the time goals i never set because i thought no one, including myself,  ever believed it was possible.  the years were more like a grand brigade of self pity,  i suppose.  and then i spent a few hours with a great deal of support that God sent to me, i thought about things i never thought about  and realized i might actually be capable of all these things.  in life AND in racing.

its true we all have to deal with reality of situations.  reality of life.  which perhaps then is pure irony or God's awesome sense of humor rearing its head that he brought me to a place called Reality LA.  i'll let you do the googling and won't profess to any what i've come to know. but through this new "reality", new guides that i humbly call friends and new life that i'm about to get started on, the race calendar which used to include nothing but races i thought would look "good on paper"  has now become my step to the greater part of whats ahead.  because it's not about the past.  it never was, really.  it was always about the future.  my future.  the greater plan.

this evening i overheard a friend close a casual phone conversation with God Bless.  i liked it.  so to all my guides, my support, and my dream givers (you know who you are)

thank you and God Bless.  

finally a race report - IMCZ

i guess its time for the race report although my race reports never seem to be what the typical race report is supposed to be.  i will start there. this journey was nothing like it was "supposed" to be.  in the past year i've learned more than i ever thought possible, then i ever dreamed.  i never imagined training for two ironmans and completing two ironmans all in the same year.  when new years eve hit on 2011 i was more ready than anyone to start the new year.  i lost a love, a spent some time alone and very scared, i saw my sister get married and battle a son's diagnoses with autism, i watched as my oldest sister and brother in law as they waited... and waited.... and waited... re routed their process... and waited some more... to finally receive the news that they would be parents, i lost friends, i comforted friends who lost parents, i watched cancer take people away, i trusted myself to head out on my own only to find the greatest strength was myself, i questioned my ability, i questioned my being, i found support with people that were strangers just one year prior.  i believed in my journey and i found it brought me to this....

here is my journey. my race report. my second ironman finish in less than 12 months.

cozumel mexico ironman 2011.

it was a tricky start, this time i didn't have my mom.  she couldn't come nor could anyone elses support system.  that is hard, not to have people to anticipate being at certain points in the course it changes the way i race, it changes the finish line experience, and it changes the outcome but the irony in this was really the greatest part of the race.  i set out on this journey trying to prove something to someone else.  the whole reason i signed up for an ironman was out of spite.  yes spite.  it got me up every hill and to every camp without a doubt.  but for mexico i decided i was on my own.  i hadn't been racing or competing or "just getting to the finish line" for very long.  pre st george i had only done 3 other triathlons.   i ran before i knew how to do that part.  the bike was my struggle, but i was going to "trust it", the swim was just something to get through.

again, i've said it a million times before, i train and race with high caliber people.  i race with the best and i didn't or don't train like the best.  this race taught me that if i do, i can.

leading up to the race i felt great, not nervous. i had been sick for a straight 3 weeks prior and developed pleurisy, which i'm still to this day battling.  it sucks.  but my legs and body were otherwise in good shape.  i didn't log the hours i did for st george but i wasn't stupid either.  this is a very thin line when participating in these events.

RACE DAY
we woke up and headed out in our matching kits, swim start was a in water jump off the dock clear water start.  i took it in and got hit, kicked and punched the entire 2.4 miles.  my googles fogged up,  came off and water got in them which if i had to guess a calculation would say it cost me 5 minutes.  i knew where i was in the swim and stuck on the heels and hip of any guy (or girl respectively) that would allow for it.  transition was a bitch.  i pretty much took a shower for fear of late day chaffing, couldn't find sunscreen and then couldn't locate my bike in the mess of a maze.  I ended up with a 12 minute T1.

i got on the bike and killed the first lap.  i was an average 17.5 which is fast for me, i tried my best not to get caught up in all the drafting but it was useless and not being called so i just went with it.  the north end of the island was nothing but  clear blue water hitting the rocks and me.  amazing.  second lap i felt okay too, third lap the sickness hit, the head wind picked up to 20+ mph and in the distance i saw the  black cloud overlay.  i was puking every 10 minutes, lost my water cage, and was feeling like i couldn't finish.  i was emotionally spent and started to cry.  once i started i couldn't stop and then i thought about just finishing i could do this, i told myself.  mile 100 i hit the rain.  the hurricane rain.  it was brutal and the streets were flooded and it was hard to see where i was even going at that point.

i exited the bike with high hopes for my run.  i got to T2 and hit the run hard.   its 3 laps and raining. hard.  i headed out through town working off most of the energy from the crowd.  the water tasted gross and was in plastic bags that i had to bite the plastic off of. i was getting sick again and the porta a potty's weren't helping.  trust me i won't go into details here but triathletes have a great knack for "missing" anything and everything when it comes to those things.  i got lapped by a team member but it was a bitter sweet lap because it was a familiar face on the course.  i pushed through.  thinking mostly of my nephew, dangisoironman"

and i crossed the finish line in a a sub 14.  i was disappointed. i was disappointed in myself.  but i finished and i learned.  i will continue to learn, continue to beat what i always thought was unbeatable.

its okay......

i've learned its okay to wear your medal
its okay to wear your shirt
its okay to keep on that bracelet until it literally falls off your wrist
its okay to eat cookies and drink every margarita known to man when you finish
its okay to cry on the bike and the run and the swim
its okay to test yourself
its okay to let yourself down just to pick yourself back up
you will find something that you once deemed impossible
you will get that strength you never thought you had
you will do things that others can't imagine
you will push yourself to the limit
the mantra is in your mind
the mantra is your struggle
the mantra is one foot in front of the other
the race report is written in your head long before you cross that finish line
a test of yourself
a test of the elements
the course may be long
you will want to quit
you will want to give up
but you WILL dig deeper
you will PUSH harder
you will Be an IRONMAN!

and you will swear you will NEVER sign up for another one
but of course you will
because crossing that finish line never, never gets old.

arrival de cozumel

day before race - the nerves have set in, i've quieted down (yes this is possible), and i've retreated to the poolside for some alone time.

the trip here was uneventful which is exactly what i planned for.  i met the crew at denver airport and we flew into cozumel together.  if you have never stood along baggage claim with a bunch of triathletes waiting for their bikes i don't reccomend it, its not a pretty site, especially when your groups bikes are literally the last 7 out of the airplane.

the resort is incredible.  hot tub, literally in the room, hammock on said balcony, and an endless pool with food and drink service throughout 24 hours.  what ironman?!?

we swam and did a practice ride yesterday, and a practice swim today at 7.  i felt great on the bike and the jelly fish seemed to have stung everyone but me.  i'm not thinking to clearly at the moment so this update is short.  my apologies.  thank you all once again for your guidence, support, and letting me belivie in what i always think is the impossible.  tomorrow i'll swim, ride and run for all of you as i continue to "trust my struggle"

and here we go again.....

just a quick blog update as i  get ready to head to Cozumel, Mexico for my second ironman competition.   this adventure is very different from the last for several reasons,  i'm doing it for a different reason this time around, myself.   i'm coming off a 2 week sickness and just returned from begging my doctor for stronger drugs, i won.  the bike is pulled apart in pieces, in a bike box the size of me and ready to have me drag it across the terminal at LAX at 6 am tomorrow.  free entertainment for anyone else flying out tomorrow

and oh yes, and this one is in Mexico. 

i also never thought on a day that in my 20's i spent celebrating at the local bars for "the biggest drinking night of the year"  would years later be the night i was getting myself ready  for my second ironman race in less than a year.   (race term used lightly of course)  

so here we go again....... next race update from mexico,  i hope they have cranberry sauce.  

dream

i think i smiled the entire way.

i arrived in new york on the red eye and went straight to the hotel.  i grabbed a WSJ, a cup of coffee and cleared my head in the 40 degree weather that awaited me outside, i took a stroll through battery park and contemplated on visiting ground zero, still not ready.  i walked along the water front instead, stopped at the dedicated gardens sat and cried for bit.  i wasn't sure at that point if i was crying for 9/11 or crying because i'd made it here.  i cried a lot that day but none of those tears were sad.  they were just emotions.  emotions of the empowerment of a single city.  emotions of what i really think of as home.  i wandered back to the hotel and met my family who made the drive and train ride up the east side.

i thought of writing a full race report.  trying to describe what it feels like to start off on the verazzano in the toll lane with 47,000 others. what it felt like to hear languages from all over the world while running, seeing a blind woman being led by her husband at mile 22, holding hands. what it feels like to run up the bridge and into the bronx and slapping high fives with every single person under 4 feet.  the smiles on their faces were as big as mine.  gratitude is a large part of what i feel today. i loved every second of every minute of every mile.  new york you might really be my home in another life.

i anticipated this race to be epic. and it was.  i sometimes felt alone in a sea of 47,000? this is epic.  this race was epic. those supporters were epic.  and i'll be carrying on with this smile for a long long while.

you stopped for us and i can only hope we delivered.

5 boroughs and me

i don't think i've been this excited for something since i awoke to find my sea princess bike with lurkey from rainbow brite on the handlebars Christmas morning back in the 80's.   

a thought crossed my mind a long while back that i wanted to run 26.2 miles.  a marathon.  but like most things i set out to accomplish i have to be different. i choose the challenge over the constant.  cruelty over convenience.  i like it that way, it keeps life interesting and keeps me from getting caught up in the ease of it.
so i decided on the mecca of all marathons (yes better than boston, in my humble opinion)  it was a marathon that was close to home, it was a marathon that was in that city.  yes THAT CITY.

new york! new york! - staten island. brooklyn. bronx. queens. manhattan.  

i knew that this was not easy task to take on.  there was the physical part of running 26.2 miles alone. but this was more than a marathon, this was an event. an event that i  had to do. it was my home.  i've always felt this strange bond with new york even though i'm pretty sure i wouldn't know what letter of the alphabet line runs from any part, of any corner, to any borough.  but i love it.   in addition,  i would need to qualify or make it through this lottery of sorts.  so i dreamed, i kept dreaming, and i kept on keeping on.  while i waited i ran Los Angeles and San Diego, i did an ironman, i ran what seems like a million 10k's always still hoping, still dreaming, that one day I too, could run through central park as a new york city marathon runner. 

this video pretty much sums it up (thanks suzie for sharing)  and thank you New York for allowing me to become a part of you on sunday, even if its only for 26.2.
NYC Marathon Alex Baldwin prorez from Marc Beroza on Vimeo.

Pumpkinman Half Iron Race Report

count the number of times i've said "okay this is my last race"  you will run out of fingers and toes very quickly when answering.

i signed up for a half ironman two weeks before the race.  this makes me smile.  it makes me smile for two reasons.  1.  because i never thought i'd be "that person" randomly signing up for a half ironman 2 weeks before race day.  and 2. because i can't figure out if i'm stupid or just crazy.  as many know i started this triathlon game two years ago.  i never rode a bike prior to then, i hadn't swam since i was 8, and my running was whenever i felt like the swag in a race negated the entry fee. until i met my friend marci, she patiently (emphasis on patiently) answered all my questions about that "crazy ironman" race she was doing in Wisconsin.  and i was in an instant inspired, thinking maybe one day i could do that too.  maybe one day.  so i'd casually log on to the ironman website looking at race locations.  then something else happened and spite kicked in.  i logged on again and wouldn't you know registration had just opened for st george utah ironman.  i knew nothing about the course, nothing about training, and certainly nothing about what was to come.  

and so i finished st george with one sprint and one olympic under my belt and signed up for cozumel.  

in between i met these crazy kids from utah who pretty much all place in every race they do.  they are in a word.  incredible.  i brag about them (probably close to 20 of them now)  in every conversation i have about triathlons, marathons, and life.  their hearts are as big as as my competitive drive and they seem to always keep track of every race everyone is doing and offer support.  i mention this because this is why i found myself once again signing up for a race i swear i'd never do.  Pumpkinman 70.3. 

Friday.  

I bailed out of work early to head up to henderson, nv.  i met up with tori (one of these amazing utah gnomes) we grabbed our packets, ate some carbs and headed to bed.  in between i flagged down the powertri guy at the hotel for a pair of goggles since guess who forgot hers??!  at least it wasn't my bike this time.  

Saturday.  Race Day. 

Tori and I got there early and had plenty of time to get ready, apply sunscreen, and enough time for Tori to convince me that i'd be okay swimming 1.2 miles with no wetsuit.   it was an in water start guys before girls. once again i was amazed at the number of women competing, just a handful of us.  already i was feeling accomplished.  the swim went great.  that water in henderson has always been kind to me.  i don't know what it is but i always feel so calm when i swim there.  i had my mantra "everythings gonna be alright" in my head the entire way.  i sighted well and felt great getting to the bike until i saw that most of the half bikes were gone at that point.  the negative thoughts started creeping in my head, i cursed a few times, got on my bike and was off.  in one word, the bike course, HELL.  elevation is 7,000 with a 6% grade for the last 6 miles.  i felt myself starting to lose it at mile 52, this was after i had to stop TWICE to fix my chain.  

i finished the climb and thought i was doing okay but there seemed to be less people on the course with me at that point than i anticipated.  what was going on?  i pushed on to T2 and started the run. josh left me some socks, since of course i forgot mine and i smiled at once again the amazing amount of support my utah crew brings.  

i thought for sure i was one of the last on the course.  whatever you do just keep moving forward, do not quit.  it was probably 100 degrees, no shade and literally running in the desert.   i started off well probably about a 9:30 pace.  i used my "walk a cone, run a cone" tactic my two "friends" in st george taught me.  then came the cramping, the feet started to hurt and i swore i was never going to be able to get through 13.1 miles.  i passed my friend josh finishing as i was starting and got discouraged thinking "this is supposed to be my strength!???"  today just wasn't my day.  i was in pain. major pain.   the rest of the miles were a lot more of the same but i somehow managed to cross the finish.  

it will go down as the hardest race i've ever "competed" in but it will also go down as another race i've completed.    final time 7:08:32. 

so as i "swear i'll never sign up for another one"  i'm thinking i wonder what i'll do different for next year.  plus we still have NYC and Cozumel to conquer.   

baby steps, baby.  baby steps. 

if only

if only i wouldn't have stopped for water or for that cramp that got me on mile 3.  if only i would have sprinted a little harder at the finish.  if only my garmin was as accurate as i needed it to be.  if only those damn "ed hardy/bedazzle"  shoes would have increased my cadence by the mere 13 seconds that i missed my PR on today.

a year ago this would have brought me down, it would have made me question my ability once again.  today (even with a pathetic philadelphia eagles loss post race)  it made me happy.  happy that i came that close to my PR in the first place.  A year ago I didn't even know what the hell my PR for a 10K was,  i didn't ever push myself that hard to care.  this time around i started and it certainly changes ones stride.   so i didn't make it this time.  last time i was in a place i thought was perfect.  the last time i made 49:13 (yes i realize this is some people's practice runs)  i was in what i call the "old curry" phase.  then life  happened and the caring went down a bit, i signed up for an ironman, i completed and ironman and the "old curry" started to care again.  i started to care about myself.  me.  i took in selfish and embraced it.

yes, its true i'm always in a "friendly" competitions with the guys during these runs, its just to much fun when i pass them not to be.  but for once, today i took it to a new level.

a new level that had me puking at the finish line, exactly 13 seconds shy of my "new curry"  PR.

pumpkinman half?  you're up next.

a moment of silence please

i still can't look at the images, they are, 10 years later still fresh in my mind.   i am dedicating this blog entry to those who can't run, who can't ride, who can't swim.  those that can't hold their loved ones or tell them they love them anymore.  those who did what they were supposed to do that day, they went to work.  and they, never returned home.

i had a hard time with the aftermath of the september 11th attacks, as many of us did.  i sat in my boyfriend at the times room night after night and cried as he tried to comfort me while trying to figure a way to comfort himself.  the day of the attack we were released from work early, being on the east coast and in finance it was uncertain of what was to come.  was this it?  no one knew.  the emergency service announcements on television were not a test and every station broad casted the events of that day with newscasters holding back tears.  we were all the same that day.

i came home and did the only thing i knew how, i went for a run.   i cried and looked up at the sky usually littered with airplanes, now empty.  i don't know what i thought about or even how far i ran.  but i ran for hope that day.  for hope that it was all just a dream.  this was america.

my good friend Jackie and I will be running in a 10K in studio city, calfornia tomorrow.  and just like the day of the attack i will run in silence, no ipod, no noise.  i'll be running for my friends, my colleagues and my fellow americans who no longer can.

May we remember tomorrow what's important in life.  May we clear the hate from our hearts and go out and inspire someone else to do the same.

God bless those who serve, those lives lost, and each other.  

9-11-2001.  WE WILL NEVER FORGET.