#TeamThumbsUp

There are some decisions we make that are possibly the most simple, without any thought, but impact our life more than those decisions we find most challenging.  Several weeks ago a friend asked if anyone would be interested in participating in the South Beach Triathlon as part of the ThumbsUp Organization.  It would be the bike leg with an adaptive athlete.  Without any thought, I said yes.  Little did I know how much this experience would help and change me.

ThumbsUp is an organization that teams able bodied and adaptive athletes through different sporting events.  They are expanding attitudes about possibilities one event at a time.  I was lucky enough to witness their first race last year and was left amazed by the experience.  They’ve since participated in different events.  This year would be even better, two teams.  A little friendly competition never hurt anybody.

I met Juan Carlos Gil (JC) and Kerry Gruson at the only practice we had for the bike.  After racing, I now know I should have trained with the carrier a little bit more.  If there’s anything I learned that day was what really went into preparing for these events, that Kerry is the life of the party and a dear woman, JC is a monster athlete and in a league of his own, to make sure your back wheel spins when they attach the cart and that our team was definitely full of so much spirit.

Fast forward a week or two and it’s almost race weekend.  I was more nervous than I wanted to admit.  I didn’t know how it was going to go.  I’ve ridden 20 miles countless times but this was going to be different.  The day before we went for packet pick up, dropped off our bikes, and talked logistics.  Come race morning, we would have to make some surprise last minute adjustments.

This is the earliest my alarm clock had gone off in a really long time.  It’s been a while since I raced in a triathlon.  I waited in transition and remember just watching the pack of blue and yellow roll in and got straight to work setting up everything and ironing out the details.  We had a few minor challenges but as a team, there wasn’t anything that couldn’t get fixed.

Bikes are ready.

 Making our way to race start.

As race start got closer we made our way over to the beach.  This was where I was able to see the true meaning of sportsmanship, comradery, and take in this entire experience.  As soon as we got to the shore, there was nothing but cheers for Kerry and JC.  What I would have done to pause this moment, with the sun rising, athletes lining up; it has always been my favorite part of triathlons.  The true calm before the storm.  You can feel the adrenaline, the anxious nerves, the sheer will and determination of each person.  And Kerry and JC were off!! And I’m not kidding you when I say off; our swimmers were flying in that water! We had to run to transition and get ready to bike!  I still didn’t have my helmet on when they told me JC was out of the water and coming into transition.

We had to take cart and bike out of transition from where we were.  This didn’t go as smoothly as planned.  I’ve never really tried running in road shoes (and I don’t recommend it).  While I was trying not to fall, the bike took a tumble and I tripped right onto my spokes.  Pause, relax, take foot out of wheel.  All I can do was be grateful nothing broke and we were off.  I tried to gather my nerves and get on the course.  I settled into a pace I hoped to maintain the whole ride.  I hit the first bridge feeling good, until I hit the top, changed gears and dropped my chain.  Because I wasn’t nervous enough.  Valeria, who was riding as a shadow, and I couldn’t get it back in place and out of nowhere a man on a hybrid came to help us.  I’m not exactly sure where he came from, we were at the top of McCarther on a closed course but all I can say is thank you!! We made our way from bridge to bridge, each one harder than the last.  The sun was blazing and heat was rising.  With only a bottle of water, I knew I wasn’t exactly prepared and my speed got slower with each mile and my frustration grew.   My legs just weren’t having it.  Valeria and JC kept me going, entertained my mind, words of encouragement even when I felt like I had nothing left.  I was running out of gears half way up the bridges, so I would just put my head down and dig into the pedal, dig in hard.  I wouldn’t look up until JC let me know I was the top (he would count down) or I caught of glimpse of Valeria’s bike from the corner of my eye.  My fear of going down the bridges went away real fast, I used all the speed I could get.

Valeria our gopro pro.

It was hard; probably my most difficult bike to date in a race, but what I take away from it is something else.  I got words of encouragement from almost every cyclist.  I got a constant thumbs up.  As they passed me on the bridge, they motivated us on.  Hearing people calling out “Go ThumbsUp” gave me goosebumps every time.  People I knew calling out my name, edging us on.  Police offers, volunteers, photographers, all of them cheering us on.   It’s hard to translate the experience we had into words.  Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, I came into transition to so much spirit from the spectators; I had to hold back my tears.  I finished that bike drained, beat, exhausted, but I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Coming in transition.

As Valeria went off to the run with JC, we went over to the finish and waited to help her, the last quarter mile or so was in the sand, with an slight uphill.  Triathlon may be an individual sport, but that isn’t what I saw at the finish. Other race participants on the way to their finish were helping us, not worrying about their finish time.  Spectators joined in to push.  We came in as a team, all 7 of us, but it took so many more than that to get to the finish.  My favorite finish to date.

I am overjoyed by the opportunity that was given to me by ThumbsUp.  I am thankful for those that I met along the way, that I hope remain friends.   I am blessed to be a part of such an amazing organization and I look forward to watching it grow.  I was humbled by the entire experience, it gave me back more than I ever imagined.  I am surprised by how much this has helped me as a person.  It is something  I will always carry with me. #TeamThumbsUp. ~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

#TRAININGPROBLEMS

I sat in my car this morning and realized that there’s a stench of the jungle. I walked into my room and there is workout clothes, both clean and dirty hanging throughout my room. I open my dishwasher and it’s mostly water bottles and shakers. Not only training for an Ironman, but training period comes with some interesting life changing #fitpeopleproblems you just have to learn to accept. There’s no point in fighting it, it just increases frustration. It’s not only #fitpeopleproblems, it’s #triathleteproblems, #cyclistproblems, #fitgirlproblems, #runnersproblems, you name it…fit people got 99 problems and sometimes a bitch is one. (#haters)

#trainingproblems – your beach towels become towels to cover your car seat from your dripping sweat. God forbid you forget one, cause the next time you sit in the chair, it’s still wet.

#trainingproblems – 80% of your laundry pile is workout clothes. I know those that workout regularly have enough to last like 2-3 weeks but I don’t recommend waiting more than a week cause a nice little stench starts to creep out of your hamper.

#cyclingproblems – I can get up, go out, and ride for hours. But the thought of getting out of bed for the indoor trainer is just too much to bare.

#runnerproblems – No those aren’t calluses on my feet, those are blisters that got blisters on them…and yes I must smear Vaseline all over my feet.

#fitgirlsproblems – I may have calluses on my hands sometimes cause a girls gotta get her lifting in.

#cyclistproblems – Finding a clean and decent way to blow your nose on the bike. Snot rockets may work for men, but they aren’t exactly attractive for a lady. But to be honest, by hour 4, you could care less about being a lady.

#trainingproblems – I have shoes for long runs, races, short runs, cross training, leg day. Yes I need that many running shoes.

#triathleteproblems – I have 5 different colors. I have tan lines from my cycling jersey, my tri top, my racer back, cycling shorts (they all have different lengths), my gloves, my socks, and even my Road ID bracelet. I am a zebra of tan lines. They’re my racing stripes and on most days I wear them with pride.

#trainingproblems – Supplements and recovery. I may need to start selling myself on a street corner to afford recovery, glutamine, whey, powdered substances, electrolytes and my eating habits in general. I spent years avoiding salt, now I am paying for salt filled pills. Ironic.

#cyclingproblems – #dead after a 5 hour ride and your just staring at your filthy bike hoping it somehow cleans itself. Common telepathy.

#trainingproblems – Always assume I’m sore and/or tired.

#triathleteproblems – Compression socks are sexy, don’t try to change our minds.

#fitgirlproblems – I swim, bike, run, and strength train… no, I can’t change my schedule cause you want me to go to dinner at 10pm, meet for coffee during the time you know I go for a run, or talk until 1am cause my alarm is set for 5:20am.

#cyclingproblems – Putting all the gunk on your junk only to open the door and realize it’s pouring rain #fail.

#cyclingproblems – When someone in a meeting points out your chain ring tattoo from your morning ride. Yes I showered but I was running to get to this ridiculous meeting on time and didn’t notice it. It requires serious scrubbing…you wouldn’t understand non cycling mortal.

#fitpeopleproblems – No I don’t want a cupcake, no really I don’t want the cupcake, no I’m not on a diet I just don’t want the cupcake. Would you leave me the hell alone I don’t want your stupid cupcake!!!! Secretly, I want to dive face first into the delicious, icing of the cupcake.

I’m about that life. ~ Adding Mo Miles