Another Tragic Loss

We woke up Wednesday like any other morning.  Alarms went off before the sun, we sluggishly put on our kits, clipped our helmets, grabbed our bikes and headed for our morning ride.  A row of blinking red lights, the sound of freewheeling, and good morning banter…what we consider a good start to any morning.  We make our way over the bridge and towards Bear Cut only to see an unusual amount of traffic.  “The street is closed, please turn around.” You take the detour without thinking twice…until someone tells you a cyclist was involved.  Your heart automatically drops to your stomach.  Is it someone you know, or worse, someone you love… you call, you text and make sure you’ve gone through the list.  But what doesn’t immediately cross your mind is that your family and friends at home are doing the same thing.  You let your dad know before he sees it on TV, sister tracking you down, friends messaging, co-workers relieved to see you at your desk.  The rest of the day you comb media outlets for updates on names, what happen, anything you can find.  This hit too close to home.  One cyclist dead, the other in critical condition.  The story doesn’t change, drunk driver swerved into the bicycle lane.

For the last 24 hours it’s been the battle of cyclist versus motorist and vice versa.  I wrote about this months ago “Dear Motorist” and it’s sad that it takes such a tragedy to bring to light the dangers of Miami roads.  Every time we walk out the door for a ride, there’s always the possibility of not coming back.  There is always the fear and feeling in your gut.  It’s not something we like to think about, but it’s a reality.  I spent yesterday reading how cyclist shouldn’t be on the road, how cyclist are the problems, how we think we own the road.  All of this on a thread of an article of a father who was tragically killed by a drunk driver.  It was disgusting and sad.  I tell you this; there are cyclists who don’t respect much of anything.  I can say that I’ve taken the occasional red light and rolled thru a stop sign.  But there is the occasional motorist who is texting, who roll thru the same stop sign, and who drive drunk.  They are both at fault for their actions.  But at the end of the day, the car always wins.  So to motorist we ask you to kindly share the road.

The solution for these kinds of tragedies is not, not to ride.  The solution is not to find safer places to ride or select specific times where it is safer to ride.  The solution in my mind is to ride more.  To grow the sport, to teach motorist the appropriate way to pass, to educate on the laws, to have officials impose slower speeds in areas we know cyclist use as their stomping grounds.  On any given weekend morning in Key Biscayne, cyclist and fitness enthusiast alike out number motorists.  City officials have to see this growing problem and reach a solution.  There should be an increase in police presence, but with officers that actually support the law and rights of cyclist.  I’ve had my fair share of law enforcement that honestly could give a damn.  To you, we thank you for “serving and protecting.” Tragedies like this will not stop until there is a change in the mindset of Miami’s population and city officials that cycling is part of this city and that we aren’t going anywhere.  If anything, we are growing in numbers.  Each of those cyclists is a human, a sister, father, mother, and daughter.  Value human life. Think twice before you fly by them inches from their elbow, before you look down at that text, before you get in the car after that 4^th drink.  We have every right to the same road you’re on, we are just using our legs to move us in the same direction you’re heading. How many more cyclist have to be hit and killed before something is done?

I didn’t know Walter Reyes but we all still ride with heavy hearts.  The cycling community has suffered an unnecessary and very sad loss.  My condolences to him and his family.  We hope Henry Hernandez recovers and gets well soon.  This should not be another tragic loss but a wakeup call to cyclist and motorist alike.  Cyclist will not stop riding, we will not get off the road, and we will not pick better times to ride.  If anything we will continue fight for our legal right to be on the road.  Like a friend quoted today, “courage is being scared to death and saddling up anyways” ~AddingMoMiles

The Not so Resolution, Resolution.

We’re 16 days into the New Year; many of us have looked at our resolutions post and wonder how we already went wrong.  It was a plague of “new year, new me”. I wonder why we wait for new years to better ourselves, but that’s a philosophical question for another post. So in true fashion, I evaluated “resolutions” that I could and maybe should make for the New Year.  I realized that most I will not keep, nor will I try.  I probably made them in 2008, 2009, another attempt in 2011, and failed miserably in 2013.  So in 2014 I focused on two goals, not a resolution.  One was to better my career.  Six months of about 210 resumes sent, 130 e-mails, and about 25 interviews, I am sitting in a job that a genuinely enjoy.  My second goal was to do something I considered really epic.  I wasn’t sure what, but I wanted it to be memorable.  So I signed up for an Ironman.  290 hours of training later and that goal was completed.

Failed resolutions included mundane things like eat less dessert.  Who are we kidding?  Get abs…please refer to previous resolution.  Cut back on coffee, this would never lead to a positive outcome. Religiously get mani and pedi’s (never.going.to.happen.). Call my mother more.  I try, I really do.  Make better romantic/relationship decisions.  But then life would be so extremely boring. Control my sarcasm.  I’ve learned it’s just part of my charm.  Make sure my room is always organized; after all I’m a grown woman. It’s just too exhausting, so some days my bed will not be made.  Curse less, skip out on pizza, drink less beer…just plain miserable.  I’ve learned through my many years of failed resolutions that none of these things make me a better person, athlete, or really help me grow as a human.  Most of them just make me grumpy and possibly less tolerable.

AMEN.

So for 2015, I don’t have resolutions because life improvements started months ago.  So I’ll just challenge myself to do more this year.  Put in more miles, double 2014.  Ride my bike more.  Run more, lift more, climb more, hell do more burpees.  Do more epic shit. Love more, laugh more, and add some  more kindness.  If it scares me, do it.  If I have to seriously deep dig to accomplish it, do it.  If it makes me stronger, do it. If a race is going to hurt, do it.   Stop thinking, doubting, over analyzing.  If it isn’t for me, get rid of it.

This year is a little different.  I am apparently supposed to have all my races for the year selected and planned but that really isn’t the case.  I’m actually kind of torn and have taken a bit of a detour.  I am genuinely enjoying my road bike.  Yes, there are a few triathlons I plan to do but what I’m really excited are road races.  I’m looking forward to learning more, riding smarter, and putting in more time.  New experiences, like the possibility of a Team Betty 2015 training camp and some tough rides.  “Turn the pain into power.”~ AddingMoMiles

Count Your Blessings

Food comas and food babies plagued people all over the US last night, myself included.  Actually I still have a food bump this morning…and I’m ok with this.  I was lucky enough to be surrounded by lots of love this holiday and two of my favorites.  I say it that way because most of my life I wasn’t able to.  It’s not a tradition my family participated in.  Last Thanksgiving didn’t go as planned, and wasn’t exactly filled with love but that’s a story for another day.  So before we dug into the grub, someone at the table asked what we were thankful for…and it got me thinking:

• How much and how little my life has changed.
• My friends and the women who surround me.  The family I got to pick and that have been there so much for me, especially these last two years.  I’m still waiting for our reality show contract.
• My family, we are a circus of crazy (and I’m an active participant in this crazy) but there is not a group of people that can make me feel so absolutely loved as they do.  My sister is on speed dial, you know incase I ever have to hide a body.  My mom, she’s the ring leader of crazy, is an example of real strength.  My old man, he keeps me grounded.
• My health.  No matter what I put my body thru (A LOT), it keeps going, keeps fighting.  I’m lucky to be able to do what I do, train and race. I know that one day, that won’t be the case.
• The mental and physical strength I’ve reached this year.
• Ironman, sometimes you lose yourself in what you love…sometimes you find yourself.
• Pizza, of all meanings.
• The little home my roommate and I have built.  Sometimes messy, but it’s ours.
• Finding a job I am genuinely enjoying, where my opinion actually matters and coming into the office isn’t so bad (though I rather be on the beach)
• Cold sand…just feels nice between your toes.
• My training buddies, jungle buddies, Jungle Fitness, Reaction, All4Cycling, all of it. Where else can I find someone as insane as myself?
• Whatsapp.  Don’t judge.
• Coffee.  I don’t even have to explain this.
• Motivational quotes.  Not all of us may post them, but I know all of you love to read them.  Your secret is safe with me.
• Love and losing it. You learn a lot about yourself.
• Team Betty.  Now, representing this brand is beyond great.  But what I wasn’t expecting was the impact of getting to know some of these women, their story and their strength.  It’s humbling and motivational.
• My bike, how did my bike end up so low on this list??
• Champagne and orange juice…yes mimosas, which of course is included in brunch.  Again, don’t judge me.

This list can continue on and on, may have even forgotten a few important ones.  I know that some of them sound mundane and a little silly but it’s kind of the little things that make you happy you have to be grateful for.  We can’t always control health or peoples actions but we can have things that just kind of make it easier to get by (yes I’m talking about coffee).  Its things that without, you wouldn’t exactly be as happy as you are.  Do you know how many great moments I’ve had around a few glasses of mimosas?  I found out about the first baby in my group of girlfriends over mimosas.  We were having them, momma to be wasn’t.  I’ve had some of the greatest conversations and laughs over a cup of coffee.  I’m a lucky girl. ~AddingMoMiles.

 

Badass Is Beautiful

Katherin Switzer, Mary Barra, Hilary Clinton, Grethe Rask, Jane Hodgson. A lot of these names, with the exception of Hilary Clinton, a lot of us may not know.  I’m not going to lie, I googled 2 of them.   Miley Cyrus, Selena Gomez, and the too famous Kim Kardashian.  The first group of women actually did something beneficial for women and continue to do so, while the others are just ridiculous.  Jane Hodgson, she was the first doctor ever convicted for performing an abortion. High five for standing up for womens right.  Miley Cyrus, humped a foam finger onstage, congratulations.  Katherin Switzer, the first woman to compete with a number in the Boston Marathon, 5 years before women were officially allowed to compete in it.  Race officials actually tried to remove her mid race.  Poor man just wasn’t up to par with her physical abilities.  Selena Gomez, Grammy winner?  More like lip synchs to computer made songs.  Mary Barra, first woman CEO of any major auto company.  Given I don’t think she’s doing the best job, but she got there.  Grethe Rask worked as a surgeon in the Congo and set up her own hospital village.  Could you imagine the monster size mosquitoes that woman had to fight off.  Kim Kardashian, she released a sex tape, and not a very good one.  My social media was full of pictures of her very fake and photoshopped ass.  I don’t see a lot of post of Diem Brown, she lost her battle with cancer at 32.  #cancersucks.  Now, if Kim Kardashian wants to strip down to her birthday suit for everyone to see, that’s her choice.  Actually, more power to her…I’ve never really been a fan of pants either.  The issue is this is what our society chooses to glorify.  Ms. Kardashian was very proud of her ability to balance a champagne glass on her back side.  Girl, put that away.  If I had a daughter, I wouldn’t want her thinking that’s something she could put on a resume or thinking that was an actual skill.  I can probably balance a beer bottle on my pudge, that’s nothing special.  Instead of putting the spotlight on women who are actual role models, we teach young girls that twerking on stage is the way to go in the life…and then wonder why they end up strippers.  We glorify stupidity, image, and fat asses (with the exception of Miley) as examples of what they should strive for.

I will tell you this, I’m grateful for women like JLO and Kim for giving thick women the confidence to be thick women.  When I was a teen, sexy was a pale and very skinny size zero.  I was of the thick Cuban genes , with tanned skin, and black hair…that wasn’t going to happen.  I was never really comfortable in my own skin until society said, hey it’s ok to be thick.  Sad, I know. But now you have to have a thick bottom, with a thigh gap, and teeny tiny top.  You know what, screw that and every shape women are supposed to fit.  My cankles aren’t going anywhere, my thighs will always be a little (or a lot) big and if they touch, they touch! But I’ll tell you this, I am fit, I am healthy, and I really do try to eat clean (sometimes dessert is just too good).  I exercise more than just daily…maybe more than the recommend.  I may not have a six pack, but I look at the body I’ve been given and I am proud of it.  It lets me do what I love day in and day out.   I shouldn’t be shaming it.  We need to stop telling women what they should look like and celebrate being healthy.  I shouldn’t look in the mirror and want to change pieces of me (which does happen a lot).

What’s led to my women empowerment rant?  Kim’s bum all over my newsfeed and I’m very excited and honored to be selected to be a Betty in 2015.  Betty Designs (www.bettydesigns.com) is a line of women’s triathlon and cycling clothing.  But it’s become a little more than that.  It’s become a brand that inspires women, of all shapes and sizes, to be fit and active.  It spreads the attitude that badass is beautiful, strong is beautiful and I get to represent this.  I’m thrilled and grateful to be a part of a group of women who have the same passions and mentality.   I’m a Betty ~ AddingMoMiles.

And Here We Go Again

Well talk about being missing in action. I had to step away from the keyboard.  Blogs can be dangerous, more dangerous than drunk texting…and left over birthday cake.  I’ve been doing a lot of millennial, Gen-Y, finding yourself and what makes you happy type of stuff.  What I discovered?  What I’ve been doing all along is what makes me happy. I didn’t have to look very far (surprise, surprise).  My problem was that I was letting outside factors affect my so-called “inner peace”, because we all know I don’t always lean towards peaceful.  I started to care what people thought or say, which has never really been like me.  I put my happiness in someone else’s hands; it happens more often that we like to admit.  I became focused on what I couldn’t control, which just made you want to control it even more.  It’s a vicious cycle.  It kind of just took away from everything I had worked so hard towards this year.  So I decided I am going to be selfish.  Yea I know, that’s socially unacceptable to say, kind of makes you sound like a bad person. But it is what needs to be done at the moment; it’s kind of my turn.  As a result relationships may grow apart, that’s life.  I am not responsible for someone’s happiness, unless there’s mutual effort.

True.

So in my absence I was offered a work trip to South Asia for two weeks, where it was then snatched away as soon as I got a reservation ticket. I would be leaving tomorrow; needless to say I may be having an extra glass of wine…or two.  It was my escape plan.  I’ll say it happened for a reason, god forbid I got stuck in some kind of tsunami situation.  We all know I can’t run fast enough to escape a towering wave.  I fell off my bike again, yes again.  I’m going to attribute it to the car pulling boat that cut off the group…or my poor bike handling skills, you be the judge.  Either way, I hit pavement and it hurt like hell.  My knee was pretty ugly, a beautiful array of black and blues. We took a trip to Clermont and it was exactly what I needed. I got to watch my first circuit race. Cheer on a few of my favorite’s bike their way to the podium…and I put my big girl panties and signed up for my first road race.  I knew it was going to hurt, it’s Clermont (hills, hills, hills), I knew I was in no shape to do this, and I would have usually said no.  So I signed up and put on my race number. I didn’t technically finish, I got dropped in the first climbed (seriously dropped), children passed me.  In my defense those kids are doping. I got overlapped, almost lost a lung to Ebola, and kept getting yelled at by a coach about being in too light of a gear (I heard you the first time!).  But I had a damn good time doing it and I did it for me. I did it because I would usually say no.

 ❤                      Thanks for the push rooms 🙂                                               A4C takeover.                            

I’ve started picking races for next season.  This is a very meticulous process, kind of like selecting your fantasy football.  Have to make sure they have enough time apart, take a survey of what other crazies are racing, and figure out when you’re actually willing to really start training again.  I’ve just been playing on my bike honestly.   I’m back in training mode though, signed up for Miami Half Marathon.  Started cooking again, I have spent a small fortune on Publix rotisserie chickens and bagged microwavable veggies. This had to stop.   I’m in PR or ER kind of mode with this.  I don’t think I’ve been so focused on hitting a time than I am with this race.  I usually appreciate just crossing the finish line, this time I’ll appreciate it even more if I hit my goal.  Here we go again, let training begin. ~ Adding Mo Miles.

In life, in love, and with your coffee…

Turn Down For What

A total of 290 hours and 59 minutes went into preparing and racing for this Ironman.  Everyone talks to you about all the wonders before your first Ironman, no one tells you about the aftermath.  The soreness, overeating, and that wandering lost feeling.  For most of the year, your life pretty much surrounds this one goal.  You’ve had a strict schedule for months and now you are free to do as you please.  I went straight home after work last week, I didn’t know what to do with myself, I paced around my apartment and even started organizing my accessories (seriously?).  I’m restless.  Lazy Sundays spent on the couch were justified cause you had trained 9 hours that weekend.  Now you feel just that… lazy.  Giant bowls of desserts Saturday afternoon were acceptable, you burned thousands of calories.  Now you just feel like… a glutton.  Apparently doctors have confirmed there is a depression that affects endurance athletes after a race.  But then again, scientists confirm a lot of useless crap.

My mom, with a little too much excitement in her voice, asked if I was done cycling and racing.  My answer to her was, I’m just getting started. She’s never been a fan, and being the woman that she is, has no shame in telling me so.  Apparently most people thought I was going to put away my bike and join in on the societal norm.  Rediscover my party days, and even more absurd, start going out on weekdays.  But contrary to popular belief, I didn’t get burned out, quite the opposite.  I took two weeks to regain some of the sanity I have left, ate a little more than I should and slept as much as I wanted.  I rekindled my romance with my bed.  No workout, no worries…not exactly my thing.  Ironman may be over, the Ironman appetite and eating are still very much present.  So, in order to myself under control I went back to my love/hate relationship with clean eating, joining Jungle Fitness 30 Day Challenge.  Yes, highlight of it all is going back to Jungle Fitness.  I didn’t realize how much I missed it….and needed it! Sometimes, you just want to lift heavy sh*t.   It helps when you’re on the same boat as a lot of other people, all as crazy as I am.  I will miss you apple pie and Saturday afternoon Starbucks treats.

The triathlon season may not be over, but Monica Rosa is done racing for the year.  I think one is enough.  The beauty of it all, is now I can do whatever training I please.  Freedom.  It’s been kind of nice to wake and be like today I will do……weights… manana, I shall ride my bike.  It’s kind of nice to get a little “wild.” And for the next few months it’s going to be all about working on my weaknesses.  Which of course are all three disciplines, my weak muscles, and beer.  I’m very keen lately on doing whatever the hell I want in many aspects and it feels pretty damn good.   And since I love my bike so much, let’s work on that until I can keep up with the big boys, and girls!, of A4C  (one day, far far away).  Since I miss my muscles, lets put in some more hours at the Jungle.  I don’t want to take a break, I don’t want to eat unhealthy, I don’t want to “relax”. I want to be better, I want to be stronger.  Turn down for what. ~ AddingMoMiles

Mission Accomplished

I finished my last post nervous that I would come back saying that for whatever I didn’t cross the finish. Well, I can now say I am an Ironman! Not only am I an Ironman, but I can say it has to be one of the greatest experiences to-date. I know you’re all thinking I’ve lost my mind but I had such a great race.  I finished in exactly 14 hours, about an hour less than I had calculated.  How?  I just kept running.  I ran 1 mile, 26 times. What made it best was how great the entire trip was.  Somehow the race flew by but I soaked up as much of it as I could.  It was genuinely fun.

The most exhausting part of Ironman isn’t always the race but the days and traveling leading up to it.  The stress of work, fitting in training, and making sure you don’t forget anything when you pack.  Traveling an entire day doesn’t exactly result in rested legs but we made our way to Louisville, Kentucky. I hoped for minimal crisis situations but as I’m falling asleep on the plane, it came to me half slumber that I forgot to pack my Garmin.  MY GARMIN.  In true fashion, I flip out.  God bless in flight wi-fi, whatsapp, a teammate who still hadn’t left Miami, and one great friend who sent hers with him.  Crisis 1 averted.  The anxiety leading up to the day of the race, packet pick-up, bike pick-up…and then bike-drop off, bags drop-off, walk here, find food I can eat, test the bike, swim practice.  It doesn’t help calm the nerves when you jump into the disgusting Ohio River and the current is so bad if you stop swimming it takes you back 25 yards.  Sigh of relief though, this isn’t the swim we’ll be facing, the current is actually in our favor.  Big pasta dinner….and it’s race morning.

We made it to Louisville!

Bike Drop Off

Louisville is unique in that it is not a mass start.  Most Ironmen, all 2K plus participants start at the same time.  Sounds thrilling right.  We got to line up before sunrise to stand in line for rolling start.  The cannon went off and 15 minutes later I was on the pier, Katy Perry playing, jumping into dirty water.  The rolling start sounds less nerve wrecking right?  Right up to when I saw rows of green capped muscles heading my way after I jumped in.  The first 45 minutes was a battle I loss with the men.  I was kicked in the rib, may have popped a boob if they were fake, swallowed Ohio River water (I may start glowing soon). I got in a few punches, threw out some elbows. Don’t get me started on the cleanliness of the river.  I made it out alive (slower than I would have liked) and into transition.  Changing tent was less chaotic than expected, changed, found my bike, and off I went.  This is where my fun started.  By this point I just wanted breakfast, cause I was starving.  I settled for a Bonk Breaker and went on my merry way.  Only 112 miles on the bike to go.  No cadence, no problems.  I only prayed to the bike gods for no mechanical problems.  Bike was going smoothly until I made a right for an out and back.  I was hitting a downhill at 40 mph.  The problem with that, what goes down in an out and back, must come up….and up we did.  I kept myself entertained, keeping track of nutrition, calculating times, speed, what mile I was at.  Time passed quickly and I was having fun.  Water, water, water, pills, blocks, yum another bonk breaker.  It was warm, but nothing impossible.  I learned when you gotta go, you gotta go.  There was nothing rolling about those hills, just a lot of up. I saved my legs, and in the last 30 miles, I picked up the pace and headed back.  To the guy that encouraged me, instead of hiss negative comments when I passed him, thank you.  Your words stuck with me to the finish line.  To the lady spectators cheering on us “Ironwomen” in the heat, thank you.  I got to dismount (6:34 bike time, right on target) and got off the bike fearing the current status of my legs.  Wait, what?  I can walk!  They’re ready to run.

I took my time in T2 cause I knew what was coming.  Where I mentally struggle, where I physically struggle and what I knew would be the most challenging.  One the other hand, I was 2/3 of the way.  I may still have had 6-7 hours (or so I thought) left but I was technically almost done.  I had a plan of running aid station to aid station.  Didn’t necessarily matter how fast, just that I didn’t walk it.  I wanted to reach a point that I knew if I walked the rest I would still make it under 17.  So I set on my merry way, taking down water, sticking ice everywhere (yes down my shorts), wetting my head, and eating my blocks (praying my stomach would just cooperate).  Mile 3 passed, mile 5, 6, 9, and I looked down and I was almost half way there.  Wait a second, I can keep this plan and possibly trot the whole thing.  I smiled, I chatted, made friends, I danced.  At mile 17 is when I realized I could get under 14 hours.  At this point, my knees where yelling mercy, my muscles were cramping.  My eyes watered every time I started up after each aid station.  I took an ibuprofen, started having a few pretzels (they saved me) and kept at it.  At aid station 19 I ran into a volunteer who asked me if I was second loop.  He could tell by response I was in pain and walked with me as I drank my water.  He told me I can walk the rest and still be an Ironman or I can keep at it and make it to the turnaround where I would only have 10K left.  “I know you have ran many 10Ks, the faster you get there, the faster you can have a beer” Thank you, I picked up the pace and made it into downtown right under 14 hours.  But nothing would prepare when I would turn the corner and see 4^th street live and two blocks of spectators just cheering you on.  It is more of an emotional rush than I can explain.   The more emotional I got, the louder the crowd cheered.  I stopped right when the shoot started and took it all in.  I admit, I cried, I let out yells of joy.  I honestly didn’t think this was something I would ever be able to accomplish, atleast not as solid, and everything just came out at that moment. By the time I got to the finish line it was too loud to hear my name, but I would never forget hearing “You are an Ironman.”  14:00:06.

1st x Ironman & 3 x Ironman!

I was told to enjoy every minute of it and I did.  The vibe of athletes, the silent nerves, the energy, the uncertainty of the day ahead.   I was told that I would come back a different person and it’s true.  Thank you Ironman for changing me, for allowing to find my real strength, to know I am capable of more…and that it really is your mind that pushes thru the pain.  Thank you Ironman, your training got me thru hard times, got me out of bed when I didn’t want to, made me stronger in many senses.  This race was something I needed to do for me.  Thank you to my training team, you mean more to me than you know and made this experience more than memorable.  To our Kona qualifier, thank you for constantly pushing me, training me, your patience and just being there.  Congratulations. To all those who supported us back home, thank you! To my sister, you were with my every step, love you.  To the hundreds of volunteers and spectators, without you, many of us wouldn’t be Ironmen, thank you.  To all those participants, congratulations, you are an Ironman.  Would I do it again?  Without a doubt! But for now, there are other things and goals brewing.   It’s time to take some time to really enjoy it all.  ~ AddingMoMiles.

Memorable Trip

Cloud 9

Race Week, Really?!

So I sat on the floor last night infront of the pile of race gear, pills, heed, nutrition, sunblock, socks, Vaseline, etc etc wrapping my head (and calming myself) about the race being so close.  Yea, just sitting there.  It felt so far far away when I started training for it back in February.  Ha, jokes on me, cause it’s here.  We’ve been checking the weather more than Al Roker.  Freakin’ out as we see the temperature for Sunday climb.  It’s about 97 degrees right now, you check another site, it tells you 99.  There really isn’t a big difference between 97-99 .  It’s gonna be f’ing hot.  You can’t control it, you can only prepare for it.  And put ice down your pants! Oh believe me, it feels nice.

What I looked like on the floor of my room.

All the talk about heat brings me flash backs of my first (and only) half ironman..PTSD kind of stuff.  It was also in the 90 degrees and it did not go well.  I was slightly traumatized and told myself I would never do an Ironman.  Look at me now.  But I made a promise to myself to train, to prepare and to think differently.  I even surprised myself by sticking to my training plan as much as I did.  There were still hours that weren’t swum, or missed miles on the bike.  I don’t know if it’ll make a difference, nor do I care, what’s done is done. LOUISVILL IS HERE! (typing turrets).  I’ve been told that training for an Ironman is harder than the actual Ironman; I’ll let you know if it’s true, I don’t really believe them.  I trained for this race not on speed, but preparing myself to just keep going.  I’m not fast, but I got my Ironman trot down, even got my speed walking shuffle.  Slow and steady is going to get me to the finish line and it’s the race plan I’m sticking to. The best thing about it being your first, I have no time to beat.  I am nervous, but not about what I can do, but about things that I can’t control.  I have my race plan A, B, C, D and crawling.  I got my nutrition down to the hour. And I apparently need to use the number of times I pee to monitor my hydration; must pee twice during the bike (hopefully no one steals my bike while I’m in the port-o-potty).  I’m prepared, I’ve trained, I am ready.  I rollercoaster between a frat boy LETS DO THIS and a very scared holy crap.

My current status

I leave tomorrow morning for Louisville and that one of hardest thing is doing it without my family there.  They haven’t been to many of my races, but the one they were there for has been my favorite by far.  There are many things I’ll forget about these races, you start to do so many, but one of the few things I’ll keep with me is my sister sprinting the finish line next to me screaming like if I had come in first (far from it).  She’ll be there in spirit and it’ll get me to the finish line, in one way or another she manages to show her incredible support.  But I am blessed with a great training team, even those not doing the race.  Without them, I wouldn’t be doing this race and I wouldn’t have gotten thru a lot these last couple of months.  To them I’m so grateful.  Alright enough mush, I’m becoming a sap, and hopefully the next post will be telling you that I am officially an Ironman.  Actually, it will be.  Next stop, Louisville, Kentucky. ~ AddingMoMiles.

Checklists

As the checklist gets longer and the race inches closer, there are so many thoughts that cross your mind.  Am I ready? As ready as I’m going to be, and if not, too bad. Did I train enough? Probably not.  What if something goes wrong? Plot twist whaaaaat.  What kind of mental demons will I be facing out there? Serious ones, like Ursula at the end of The Little Mermaid type shit. Flat tire? I’m screwed.  Deep river creatures and runoff pesticide poison?  Bring them on. I should have gotten a that tenuous shot. I may be able to stop and fry an egg on the side walk if I get hungry mid race, it’ll be that hot.  What are the port-a-potties going to be like?  Death by suffocation of smell.  Cycling shorts or tri shorts? Screw that, comfort, so I’m getting naked in that changing tent. What the hell was I thinking?  Too late for that shit, next thought.   I can possibly write 4 pages of everything that is going thru my mind at this point.  My bike gets dropped off to be shipped this week, I start organizing what goes into each of the 47 bags . For those of you that may not know you get 4 bags, one from swim to bike (that has all you change into on the bike), a special needs bag (there’s a station in the bike you will stop for this), one back from bike to run (this has everything you change into for the run), and finally a special needs on the run, a station about half way on the run.  You put pretty much everything you may think you may need, band-aids, pain-killers, a cheeseburger, everyone has their own method of madness out there.  I’m kidding about the cheeseburger…I hope.  I’m hoping TSA doesn’t stop me for drug smuggling from all the pills and powders going into this race.  And I’m sure they’ll wonder why I have so much Vaseline.  Don’t ask sir, don’t ask.

Physically, I’m tired, I’ve been training since February, common’ now.  I took two days off last week, even a Saturday morning ride.  I slept until 1pm, I honestly can’t remember the last time I did this… it was heavenly.  I think my alarm clock was in shock…and so was my pillow.  If I head off to race in this condition, it’ll be ugly. Curled up in fetal position ugly.  So I’m taking this week as relaxed as possible, just keeping my muscles moving.  My cool, calmed and collective self (doesn’t really exist) has officially abandoned me.  When people ask me about it, my initial reaction is to cover my ears and scream la la la la to not hear about the race.  You put so much into something, so much of yourself, your time, your dedication that the thought of something going wrong, the thought of possibly not accomplishing your goal, shakes you.  Forget the actual money that goes into these races, but the volume of passion, sheer will, it would be heartbreaking not to reach it.  Everyone tells you, you’re ready, you’re going to finish and I know they’re right but my initial thought is always, how do you know? But I’m so grateful for their motivation and faith. Now it’s time to have fun, 140.6 miles of it.  Louisville or bust. ~ AddingMoMiles

Plot Twist

Two weeks ago there was a slight plot twist in my training, fun right? Saturday morning started out normal.  My usual battle with the alarm clock, lots of snoozing, and then jumping out of bed when I realize I’m late.  Pack up like if I’m heading out for the Tour de France and head over for our long ride with All4Cycling.  Start up our warm up, talking about the new USA shows (mixed reviews to be honest) and all of a sudden I’m heading straight for the asphalt.  The guy in front of hit a reflector on the street and took his wheel out, seriously these things are and apparently out to get me.  No time to react, just enough time to hit the brakes.  The whole thing was in slow motion and never ending.  The second he hit the floor I knew I was eating pavement.  With all the finesse in the world I took a little air and landed shoulder first, bounced a few times (people wear your helmets)…and may have possibly rolled sideways, I really can’t say cause I was focusing on the pain shooting thru my arm. All I heard was a bunch of noise cause my thoughts were just screaming.   In real dramatic fashion, being Monica and all, I swore my Ironman career was over.  Siting in someone’s driveway waiting to be picked up, cause of course I wasn’t allowed to continue riding, gave me a few minutes to calm myself.  So it pretty much meant taking a few days off, thrilling.  The next morning I felt like I had been severely beat with a metal object, but just to be sure, I got on the bike.  I lasted a good 1:15 before my shoulder said what the hell were you thinking! Pissed, I packed up and went back home to get back in bed and catch up on the Tour and ice.  Side note: TDF, full of plot twist!

Fast forward two weeks later, eleven pounds of ice, a few tears of frustration (I got stuck in my clothes a lot), a new hate for potholes on the bike, a few painful runs and I got back in the pool for the first time this morning.  My shoulder wasn’t thrilled but good enough to know I can make it thru a 2.4 mile swim tomorrow if necessary.  What I was most upset about, deferring Huntington Triathlon, I was so hoping to get my first podium.  Small races are my only hope…for the time being J The good thing is I was confident enough with my training the last few months to know that taking it easy for a few days wouldn’t really do much harm.  I think it was actually beneficial cause I felt like I was starting to burn out.  I was so mentally drained, I ran without the soles of my shoes.  Yes, no soles….just kind of forgot them at home.

Spectating does have its perks 🙂

So, it’s August  1^st, Ironman month…countdown begins!  It felt so far away when I started training for it, it’s kind of surreal that it’s actually here.  I was relatively calm until I woke up and my phone said August.  If it didn’t feel real, it just got real.  The prep work starts now… list of what goes in each bag (a lot of sunblock and Vaseline), tune up for BABS (my bike), touching up the final details of my nutrition plan (seems like life or death for this race), mentally prepping myself for the longest day of my life (longest.day.ever).  Taking deep breaths.  Practicing my ironman trot.  Picturing my shoot finish (prepping for the pictures of course).  But I can say with all certainty, I am ready for this.  I have never felt so excited, yet so scared for something in my life ~ AddingMoMiles