3 Lessons from a dog, Abbey Dog

3 life lessons’s my 11-year-old dog Abbey has taught me this month:

1)    Sometimes you have to ask for help: help up on the bed and in the car; and back down again.

2)    Walk slow and stop to smell everything, and look around a lot.

3)    Sometimes pain and anti-inflammatory pills are okay, and they make you feel better.

Changes after changes, we are more or less the same

Today I was able to change all my plans and move them to adjust to the move to Tucson.

I had to change a flight in August, cancel a reservation for a hotel in July, change Tribike transport, and the biggie: change the Full Distance Triathlon to November.

It’s all arranged now.

During all this change and rearranging, there are moments of terror and depression, and moments of life affirming happiness.

There are some people who go through life creating as little change as possible and are happy with their lives. 

I’ve never been like that. 

Whenever my life gets some semblance of steady, comfort, I throw it into chaos. It’s not on purpose, believe me. But sometimes change is needed and when it happens, it is exciting and alternatively frightening. At the end of the day, I want to have a fabulous, amazing life, and I’m not going to do it standing still, comfortable, stagnant.

Wednesday I went on my last (for a while) bike ride into Rocky Mountain National Park with my friend George. It was a great ride because 1) the weather was perfect, meaning no wind 2) I was with my friend George who was my first biking partner in Grand County 3) there wasn’t much traffic because we started early and 4) I knew I had to bike 6 hours and I came very close to it.

(Taking a break in Grand Lake behind me is Shadow Mountain Lake and Mount Baldy)

I feel fortunate to live in a beautiful place and have great friends. I am going to find this again, in Tucson, I hope. 

Now that my full distance triathlon is moved to November, I can just concentrate on Timberman 70.3 in August, get situated in Tucson, and find running/biking/triathlon partners. It is sad to leave this place, but it’s not forever. I have my condo here and like I’ve said before, “stranger things have happened” and with my crazy, unpredictable, amazing life, who knows what tomorrow will bring. 

I wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Boise 70.3 Race Report

Boise 70.3 turned into Boise 26.3.

Race day started cold. It was 40 degrees at 9 a.m. Breakfast then over to T2 in downtown Boise to drop off run bag. Then, up to T1 at Lucky Peak Reservoir – up in the hills. The swim starts there.

Kim and I were dropped off at the parking lot close to the reservoir. It was really cold and raining. As we walked up to T1 it got colder and rained harder. As we set up our transition and got our wetsuits on it rained more and the wind picked up. This is not good.

At 11:30 a.m. we headed over to the start and waited, and waited. The wetsuits kept us some-what warm however with nothing on my feet, I was shaking uncontrollably. Other women in our wave told us that athletes were taking their bikes and leaving, most from warmer climates who just couldn’t take the cold and wind.

We kept waiting and the start was delayed since the organizers announced the bike would be cut from 56 miles to 12 miles due to wind and rain, and the possibility of hypothermia.
About 12:15 we were able to get closer to the water and finally we were able to swim. The water wasn’t that bad since we were standing in 37 degree wind and rain. It was rough water but I just kept swimming. It seemed like forever before the turn at which I looked at my watch: 10 minutes in – not bad.
As I got closer to the exit I looked up to sight, there was an ambulance next to the finish. Not a good sight. I learned later that athletes were taken out of the water on stretchers.

I got out of the water and as I jogged up the hill (yes, a hill) to transition and couldn’t feel my legs or feet.

My saving grace was my Pearl Izumi soft shell biking jacket and beanie I wore under my helmet. I knew the first part of the bike was downhill – and cold. But I felt warm since I had the right clothes. Later, I learned the pros kept their wetsuit on during the bike.

Since the course was only 12 miles, I pounded out the miles, biking as hard and fast as I could, staying aero most of the ride. It was fun to know I could kill it on the bike since it was shortened. Into T2, I couldn’t find my bag, and thanks to a bystander, she pointed to it. Thank you. I panicked.
On to the run, just as the sun came out and the wind died down. The run was on the greenbelt next to the Boise River, and it was beautiful. Great spectators and volunteers at the aid stations cheered me on. I kept looking for Kim on the run but never saw her; looking for her helped me get my mind of the pain in my legs while running.

(downtown Boise, near the finish)

I tried to keep a 9-mile pace and felt fast. Two loops and then a finish in downtown Boise to the crowds. I always get a bit chocked up at the finish, with people lining both sides of the chute. After crossing the finish, I got a hat and finisher medal, and knew I earned them both after the crazy start and swim.

Many times standing near the water at Lucky Res I thought this is crazy, dangerous. But I knew I had to do it. Not finishing, not starting, wasn’t an option.

Thank you to my friend Rosie who drove with me to Boise and was at the finish. And, mainly, a big thanks to her for putting up with me for four days. Pre-race anxiety is not pretty. When you have a friend like that, consider yourself fortunate; I do.

(yes we stopped for the photo op as we arrived in the state)

Three days later, I’m recovered and getting ready for a big training week: 18 hours. 3 hours swimming, 9 hours biking, and 6 biking. I want to get as close to that this week, no excuses.

HITS Full Distance Triathlon in Fort Collins July 28 is my next race. I want to do well but know I have to get the hours in.

I’m ready for the training, for the discipline, for the chance to finish my third Full Distance Course. Gotta run.

Pre-race anxiety, Colfax Marathon

This weekend I’m racing my second marathon. While I’ve race 2 Ironman races, I don’t count these as a marathon. I’m hoping for a good race. Hope.

I can’t sleep tonight, and I am thinking about Ironman blogs I’ve read about racers who, even after years of experience, arrived at a race thinking they might not finish. I remember reading on their blogs and websites how prepared they thought they were, yet and still thinking, perhaps, they might not finish. “Stranger things have happened” I remember reading.

I think that is how we all approach this endurance training and racing life: Stranger things have happened.

We do the training, and it never seems enough.

We forget the hard training days because they melt into the distance past of fond memories.

Yes, stranger things have happened. I think of the DNS (Did not show), the DNF (did not finish), the PRs, the “best days of my life”, and all the race day anxiety. I’m just a middle-of-the-pack racer, just trying to get faster.

Who knows what will happen on Sunday, Colfax Marathon Day. Maybe I’ll finish in my projected time of 4 hours, which will be a PR. Maybe I’ll be slower. All I want to do is show up, run my race, and have an amazing lunch with friends in Denver after the race.  

Cottonwood Pass

I am scouting the trailhead for White Cliffs in Granby. After talking to a government agency that gave me the wrong information, I headed up to Cottonwood Pass to see if the roads were clear.
Cottonwood Pass is clear and anyone can drive through to Hot Sulphur Springs. The road is rough but the scenery is spectacular.

A storm came through around 4:45 a bit north of Granby.

This is where I will turn to get to the White Cliffs trailhead when the road opens. 

Shadow Mountain Fire Lookout Hike April 8 2012

Had a great hike with Kymmie to the Shadow Mountain Fire Lookout Tower near Grand Lake.

It took 2.5 hours to get there and the same to get back. 10 mile hike.

It was a gorgeous day for a hike.

Travelling and learning about new places

I’m so excited about going to the Domincan Republic. I’m reading everything about its history and culture. I want to know about the island. When I was initially asked to go, I just thought I’d sit on the beach and finish writing the first draft of my novel. But I started ordering books on the country and studying its geography. There are no travel warnings, however there were some safety warnings about traveling around the country. I relegated my vacation to staying at the resort. But after reading the books I got (see below) I have to go travel around and hike and dance the merengue. I want to experience everything there. Rory is a big baseball fan so I suppose we will go see baseball games somewhere. (He can do the research for that)

The two books I’m reading are Why The Cocks Fight; Dominicans, Haitians, and the Struggle for Hispaniola

"Like two roosters in a fighting arena, Haiti and the Dominican Republic are encircled by barriers of geography and poverty. They co-inhabit the Caribbean island of Hispaniola, but their histories are as deeply divided as their cultures: one French-speaking and black, one Spanish-speaking and mulatto. …. Wucker addresses are the role of geography as a barrier, European settlement, slave revolts, the role of the sugar industry and the experience of Dominican and Haitian immigrants in the U.S. …"

And

The Color of My Words by Lynn Joseph

Twelve-year-old Ana Rosa is a blossoming writer growing up in the Dominican Republic, a country where words are feared. Yet there is so much inspiration all around her -- watching her brother search for a future, learning to dance and to love, and finding out what it means to be part of a community -- that Ana Rosa must write it all down. As she struggles to find her own voice and a way to make it heard, Ana Rosa realizes the power of her words to transform the world around her -- and to transcend the most unthinkable of tragedies