Vineman Ironman 70.3

I am not having a mid-life crisis. I am, though, enjoying life. 

On July 17 I completed my first Half Ironman event in Sonoma. This included: 

1.2 miles of swimming

56 miles of biking

13.1 miles of running 

Interestingly my first half-marathon last October was in Healdsburg. My first marathon in March was in Napa and this particular Ironman was located in Sonoma County. And even though I am not a big drinker I must apparently be drawn to vineyards. 

During each of these events I did feel like I was participating in a foreign country. All three were beautiful; rolling vineyards, majestic oak trees and quaint antique farm houses and barns. 

I do not like the heat. Or rather, it doesn’t like me. 

Running in October was slightly risky but there was a slight drizzle of rain during the half-marathon. I was happy. 

In March there was more than a slight drizzle of rain as I ran my first-ever marathon. I was more than happy. 

And so as I approached the Half Ironman training these past few months I seriously considered dropping out due to the possibility of hot weather. As luck would have it, we had a wet and cold spring so I reconsidered. 

Three weeks ago Northern California had a patch of hot days. I inadvertently chose one to go on a 50+ mile mid-week ride with two friends. We did not realize that by the time we finished the ride our thermometer would climb past one hundred. 

I had my first brush with heat stroke that day: I felt nauseous, my head ached, I got the chills and after it was over had a prickly heat rash up and down my thighs. Due to the quick-thinking of my two friends, lots of sports drinks, Shot Blocks, ice water and more, I recovered and finished the ride. 

I went home and read online everything I could about fueling and training in hot weather. Friends sent me articles, I asked other people their opinions, and I even purchased a new triathlon kit. I was ready to go to Vineman…though I was a bit intimidated by the thought of the hot weather. 

All this is to say I was prepared.
My goals going into this event were simple and easily:      

1. Have fun.      

2. Finish.      

3. Don't puke.

Realistically I knew the time for me to finish my first Half Ironman would be between six hours, fifteen minutes and seven hours. I figured if I could try to finish in around six and one half hours that would be a decent time.

My teammate, Pamela Herbert, and I drove down Saturday to pick up our registration packets. We needed to watch a presentation of the course, set up our running transition area and check-in at registration. 

Afterward we headed to our hotel where after a reservation mistake  we lucked out and they gave us two rooms for the price of one. After hotel check-in we met others and went out for a pre-race dinner.

I will say I had an unexpected ailment. My tooth. I lost about 1/4 of it on Friday and it was bothering me. Cold bothered it, heat bothered it and it was throbbing. I had an appointment for Monday and just hoped it would not get unbearable before then. 

At 4:40 the next morning my alarm woke me up. I needed to eat two hours before competing and also drive to the swim transition area. I ate oatmeal with ½ of a banana. I drank some water and a little bit of sports drink.

When I arrived at the Russian River in Guerneville with my two friends Kaaren Smith and Pamela, it was still very early. I noticed my prescription sunglasses were loose on my head. I went to a bike booth hoping for a small screw driver to repair the glasses but no such luck. There was not much I could do about it at that point and decided to not fret. 

As my friends and I walked into the transition area we were all marked with a permanent marker. Our participant race numbers were written on our arms and upper thighs. Our ages were on our left calf in GIANT numbers.

We headed toward the bike racks and set up all of our swim and bike gear. I felt honored to set up my area next to Karin LaBerge, my teammate and former Olympic swimmer. She is humble and kind and reminded me to set my bike up in a nice easy gear as the bike transition started with an uphill climb.

I ate the rest of my banana and a few Sports Beans. Eventually we suited up into our wetsuits, posed for a photo with friends and headed toward the river. The temperature was not bad. I had a full-body wetsuit but had rented a sleeveless one for today because the water was close to 78 degrees.

I had been forewarned to head toward the bushes during the swim because of currents. Well, I did. I am a proficient swimmer and because of the advice, I swam along the far short hitting the bushes with my strokes. It was the worst swim I'd ever done in a triathlon (note to self: preview the swim course whenever possible!). I swam in the shape of a backwards capital "B."  Let's just say I took the L-O-N-G route. I did get kicked in the nose at one point and stopped briefly to see if it was broken or bleeding. It didn't appear to be so I continued moving forward.

At the halfway point the water was very shallow and most people stood for the turn-around. I was no different. After finding the rocks a potential for getting cuts, I dove headfirst into the water to continue my swim.

As I swam upstream I decided to head toward the buoys in the middle of the river. The bit of banana I'd eaten just before the swim came back up. I had just managed to miss one goal, that is, to not puke. I had a sense of humor about it and made note to mention it in my write-up. I kept swimming and headed toward the finish. I decided the banana pre-swim was okay but not the Sports Beans,  or to give myself a bit more time for digestion. Even though my stomach was not cooperating I felt alright. I was still having fun. 

Before exiting the water, I knew I had well over five to six hours left to race. As you are swimming you have to try to "void" your bladder, or rather, pee while you can. Try swimming and peeing simultaneously. It isn't easy. 

I exited the water while unzipping my wetsuit and pulling off my cap and goggles. I ran to the beach towel I'd set up and tried to wipe off the gravel, dirt and sand on my feet before putting on my bike socks. I am usually fast at transitions. Today I took my time, knowing the bike and run were going to last a long time. I put the sunglasses on my face, unrolled my race bib which I'd worn under my wetsuit and clipped on my bike helmet. I tucked my wetsuit into a plastic bag, threw everything else into my plastic bag for volunteers to bring to the finish and grabbed my bike.

I ran across the T-1 pad and decided to run up the hill, rather than ride. I jumped on my bike and began the fifty-six mile portion of the race.

I loved the ride, we had perfect weather and I had no issues with flat tires. I tried to be good about fueling during this portion of the race, so I would have energy later for the run. I had one time where I almost fell but caught myself. It was as I was drinking and eating and somehow got off balance for a moment.

There was support on the bike portion with water, Gatorade, Gu, etc. I had purchased a new bottle for my aero bars before the race in addition to traditional bottles.

The volunteers would stand with their arms outstretched to hand off the water or Gatorade bottles. I would open the cap of my bottle, squeeze the support water into my aero water bottle and toss the  now-empty water bottle toward the garbage bags or cans. I have to say I got a bit of an ego boost at the last station. There was a bike club of young men gathered together on the opposite side of the road watching racers at the support station. I saw them in the left corner of my vision but concentrated on receiving the water bottle. I poured it into my aero bottle, emptied it's contents. Next I swiftly tossed my empty bottle hard to my right, hitting the garbage can stationed there. It made a loud THONG sound as I continued riding around the corner. The bike club all yelled, "Whoa, what a badass!" (and for just the teensiest moment I felt like one). I laughed out loud and continued around the corner.

My goal was to try and eat/drink around 250 calories per hour during the bike portion of the race. All in all, I did an okay job. I had Cytomax in my extra bottles, Shot Blocks and Gu in my bendo box and I even tried a bit of Aussie bites in the first half of the bike portion. I wanted my stomach to be settled for the run and knew I could not eat anything heavy after the first half of the bike was finished.

During the bike portion I was jockeying for position with a few riders. It was a mixed group, men, women, younger than me and older than me. I felt a sense of camaraderie as we were all working toward this goal. The most impressive person to me was a 71-year-old man. He had a great sense of humor and was teasing me about the hill we were approaching.

I loved when others from the Foward Motion Race Club passed me by throughout the race or I passed them. Frequently, though not always, the others or myself would yell, "Go FOMO!" or "Team FOMO!" This continued throughout the entire race and I will say two of our elite athletes and married couple, Steve and Carrie Chavez both gave me a shout-out. This is really quite something because both of them qualified for the World's in Las Vegas.

Just as we headed toward the last quarter of the bike portion my teammate and former "newbie" member, Janet Tsuji caught me. I loved seeing her and had been expecting her at any point in the race, as she's quite a rider and an excellent runner. We finished the bike course at nearly the same time (though she was much faster than I!) and headed into transition number two.

I quickly took off my helmet and exchanged it for my white Forward Motion baseball cap. I took off my bike socks and exchanged them for running socks and shoes. Normally I don't trade socks during a triathlon but since my feet were in good shape with no blisters, I decided to take the time to put on socks that I love best for running. The truth is, I will begin training for my next marathon and wanted my feet in good shape for that training plan.

I quickly headed out toward the second timing pad, it felt like it was very far away. I couldn't believe I was actually looking forward to the run. This used to be my least favorite part of triathlons but I no longer find that to be the case. I have learned to love running and was especially happy that although it was  warm, it was not record-breaking heat that Vineman has had in years past.

I started off actually at a good clip. I had been coached to consider walking up the hills for this portion of the race, if needed. I decided to watch my heart rate so as to not let the warmer weather affect me.

As I approached the first hill, I walked up it. I reminded myself of my other two goals, to finish and have fun. So far I was enjoying myself and I knew I'd finish the race. I knew that the run/walk combination was slowing me down, and in some ways it felt worse to run after I walked. Still, I continued that method. I alternately walked and ran throughout the half-marathon. I decided I would have to be okay with this today. My legs felt heavy. Just after the halfway point in the run, I stopped at a porta potty to pee. At least I knew I was drinking enough liquids. At each mile there  were volunteers with water, Gatorade, Gu and now, even food, ice, etc. I would take my hat off, pour cool water on my head, drink Gatorade and then sip some more water. This method seemed to work for me. 

My tooth was troubling me but not to the point of keeping me from finishing. Overall I felt pretty good. I could feel chafing on my right arm as it rubbed against the seam of my tri kit top, near the armpit area. Not much I could do at that point. At least my neck and chest felt chafe-free, something I have struggled with in past races, despite using Body Glide as a preventative measure.
As I was running, the thought crossed my mind that I could not imagine doing this race in weather that was 40 degrees hotter. No way.

As each mile marker approached I counted how many I had left to run. Before long, I was headed toward the finish. The thought crossed my mind that this felt more difficult than the marathon I had completed. I think partly because I did not "race" the marathon, I held back on my energy. I had to leave for the bike tour I went on six days later so felt I should play it safe and go at a slow easy pace throughout. 

Today I did not "race" the course either. I had decided I wanted to complete it as a personal milestone but to have fun. I kinda bombed the swim, poured a lot of energy in the bike and slowed down on the run to make sure I finished.

I ran across the last timing pad and felt good. Strong. I was not too terribly sore, like after having completed my first marathon. I did, however, feel very tired. And with good reason. Six hours and twenty-six hours had passed since I first began the event.

The day came to a conclusion with my two daughters and a friend surprising me by showing up. They did not see me race, I finished earlier than we all guessed. I didn't mind, I felt so touched that they drove all the way to come see me.

We waited for the rest of our teammates to cross. Kaaren with her taped ankle, Pamela who scared us after the race as her kidneys shut down for a while. Others from Forward Motion, quite a few, placed so well that they will go to Vegas for the World Championships.

It was, all in all, a good day. I had fun. I finished. And well, OK, I puked too. Reaching two out of three goals is not so bad. 

Swim 1.2 miles

 swim 42:39 pace

2:13rank

1620

Bike 56 miles 

bike 3:12:15mph

17.5rank

1463 

Run 13.1 miles

run 2:24:37 

pace 11:03

rank 1150

T-1 3:39 (we ran from water to racks, had to brush gravel,  bag all of our belongings...)

T-2 2:57 (it was a LONG run with our bikes to rack and then from our bike racks out to the shoot) 

Total Time

6:26:07place 45 out of 86 women in my division

346/676 out of the total women participants or

1140/2094 total men & women participants

To view on Patch: http://sanramon.patch.com/blog_posts/vineman-ironman-703?#c

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Marco: Postscript Number One

I wrote a story a few months ago about a student of mine. His fictitious name is Marco. In it, I share his story. I tell about his background regarding his family, his girlfriend and his goals. I tell people about his big giving heart.

I tell how Marco wanted to graduate from high school despite all of the obstacles he faced. His girlfriend had been raped. He had barely enough money to commute to school. His family wanted him to work and drop out. 

He wanted a diploma

He didn't get one.

He was so close. He had all of his schoolwork materials and I am sure they were completed, or close to completion.

My principal and I had met with him more than once to encourage him. I stacked all of his books in a pile and pointed out he was about four inches from graduating. 

He called two weeks before school was out and said he would have to miss his appointment. However, he assured me he had nearly everything done. 

The entire staff was pulling for him. This included our office manager and her assistant, our principal, other teachers and people in the community who had read about him. We had a cap and gown ready. We held off printing the graduation program, hoping he would come in at the last minute and we could keep his name on it.

He did not show up for his last appointment.

Marco had a full plate, to be sure. He had pressure to contribute financially to his mother's household. He had someone give him a job which was physically very demanding. It required heaving lifting and long hours. His employer was taking advantage of him, worse still, he was related to his stepfather. He also babysat and cared for his grandfather. He wanted to contribute to his family financially but was torn.

He was experiencing life's "school of hard knocks" but remained determined to graduate. Hewanted to graduate. He wanted to walk across the stage and prove something to his family members. To himself. He told me this with conviction and tears.

But he didn't show.

I left messages on Marco's cell phone, his home phone, his mom's cell phone, and his dad's work. 

I have a mixture of emotions. I am disappointed. I am sad. I am angry. I am hopeful. 

I hope he calls me up in the fall and brings in all of his completed work. I hope I can see him walk across the stage next June.

I hope that I can write "Marco: Postscript Number Two."

I want to pen the words, "He graduated!"

The thing is, even if I don't ever get to write those words, I long for Marco to know he is special. He has value and worth and that he really can do anything he is determined to do. He does not need a diploma or to walk across a stage to know it. He doesn't have to show it to his family, his teacher or his friends. 

If witnessing his character in extreme circumstances is an indicator, I know he will be successful, with or without graduating. I hope he knows that too.

Maui Bike Tour-The End of The Road, Part 5

After our early morning exploring of the sea caves at the Waianapanapa State Park, it was time to continue on with our self-supported bicycle journey.

It was overcast as we departed from our campsite and headed toward the end of the road to Hana. We were on the downward slope of our trip, with just a few days left of travel. We headed in the direction on the island where tourists do not go, generally speaking. The end of the road to Hana.

Somehow the weather seemed to mirror my mood. I felt torn. I was having such a magical, meaningful trip I didn't want it to end. It was as if I were a bit like Wendy with Peter Pan and the Lost Boys. In the peripheral recesses of my thinking, I felt a little bit like I would be re-entering society and normalcy of routine living. 

 We stopped to look at some hand-painted coconuts at a roadside stand, fill our water bottles and empty our bladders at a small store selling a few trinkets.  I was bestowed with a beautiful fragrant Hawaiian lei by one of my traveling companions. It's bouquet camouflaging the sweet smell of sweat.

How to describe this trip? Each day held breathtaking beauty, tests of my physical abilities and an ease of friendship with one another. Each turn of the road displayed an oceanside setting that defies description, waterfalls, pools, and ponds. There were many little stores or displays of fruit, souvenirs and friendly locals selling their wares. Each day I marveled at all that we had encountered and experienced. The last two days would prove no different and test me in new ways.

We biked and came upon some pools of water. Though it was overcast I had decided early on that I would jump in whenever the situation warranted it. As a few of us entered the water and laughter echoed the landscape two small boys decided to join in on the fun and show us how the locals live. 

From there we pedaled our way to the Seven Sacred Pools. We hiked into a bit more remote spot in time to cook our lunches and swim, climb and explore a few ot the tiny falls. That particular pool was my favorite of the trip. I was able to float on my back, swim underwater and even performed an impromptu solo complete with a ballet leg or two in a nod toward my childhood's synchronized swimming performances.

Reluctantly I packed up my belongings.

We soon had a decision to make. Some members in our group wanted to continue on to set up camp. On this particular day we did not have an end destination and would have to "free camp" along the route. In the past members had camped near the remote St. Joseph's Church in Kaupo. We had recently been informed we were no longer allowed to do that and to plan accordingly. We weren't exactly sure where we were going but we did know the direction to go. As I've said, I used to be a "planner" and noted I had easily adopted the "hang loose" or "go with the flow" attitude of the island.

Myself and two of the men, Ken Mirell and Taylor Flynn decided to hike to the Bamboo Forest and the Waimoku Falls, starting at the O'Heo Gulch (Seven Sacred Pools). We read it was a 2 mile hike, or so, and would be 4+ miles roundtrip. We were pressed for time and knew we would be racing the remaining sunlight in order to make it back to camp before dark. Earlier I had dumped some more of my gear in the car that Vanessa had driven because we were doing a lot of little side trips that day. I had planned to get back to camp early so I did not have my headlamp nor my night light on my bike's handlebars. It was a tad bit worrisome. Still, we decided we could do the hike, ride like the wind to join the others and set-up camp, all before nightfall.

The hike was both a bit more taxing than I had imagined because  I was wearing my Keen bicycle sandals. They were the perfect shoe for biking on the island of Maui. My tan lines, months later are still visible. However, they were not meant for hiking and exploring. They have a very stiff bottom so that there is plenty of support while pedaling. The downside to that when hiking is that there is no flexibility and my knees took the brunt of every step up or down on the paths and stairway leading to the falls. I had just completed my first marathon and my knees were still smarting with each step. I winced a little inside as we moved both toward and away from the falls. Even so, I am glad I went on the hike that day.

We hiked from the tropical forest into the bamboo forest.

 

The knocking of the tall towering bamboo, as the wind wrestled the enormous shoots, sounded like a mammoth wooden windchime symphony. If you have never gone to this place, go. Soon.

We wound our way through the bamboo and continued our climb, inside my wincing was continuing, step by step. We headed around a corner and facing us was the most majestic cascading mossy-lined waterfall one could imagine. The sound of the water tumbling down the wall was deafening.

Immediately I started toward it. I wanted to stand beneath the fall and feel the water pounding upon my head. 

After Ken and Taylor captured my jubilant moment on film we headed down the path to our bikes as quickly as our now-weary legs could carry us.

A great deal of time had passed as we headed toward our destination.

I was hungry and out of food, thirsty, and out of water. I had no light or lamps and I had run out of cash in my wallet so the mere fact that there were no stores along the road didn't seem to matter. My rear bike derailleur was not cooperating and my chain kept switching gears as I was going uphill. My pedaling had to be done while standing and my feet were slipping from the pedals, despite the cleats. I had more bruises than could be counted and eventually I knew my slow pace had separated me from my two companions. I was traveling alone. I ignored the catcalls of local teens driving by but was aware I might find it necessary to put up a fight, if need be. I pressed on. 

I eventually joined one of the men, Taylor,  at the Kaupo Store. Thank goodness. I was empty-handed staring at a shop filled with food and drink. By this time I was so hungry I wasn't thinking straight. My new friend offered to get me something and I grabbed the nearest sports drink and an Almond Joy. I both ate and drank them in no time flat. I hadn't realized how depleted my body was until that moment. I knew then that I needed more food and more drink and my only thought was to get to our campsite. Now.

I continued onward with my chain dropping every fifth pedal stroke or so. Thankfully one of the others, Rob Swain, from the big group came looking for us. The darkness was fast approaching and we didn't exactly know where we were headed. We followed him back to a large grassy field next to the ocean. I got off my bike and into the open arms of the group who enveloped us. They offered to set-up my tent but if one thing I have learned on this trip it's that each person has to do that on their own. It actually saves time. I had located my headlamp by now and assembled my home away from home.

I pooled my food resources with Rob and together we made quite a tasty feast. It was not enough. I ate more from others' stores and continued to eat and eat and eat. And if the truth be told, I did not feel full, despite the large quantity of food I had just inhaled. Water was scarce and so we drank it sparingly. As it showered rainfall upon our camp again later that night, the irony of not having enough to drink was not lost on any of us I think.

The next morning we packed quickly. We headed to the main road. The earlier portion of blacktop was smooth and not at all what I had remembered on my previous trip twenty-five years earlier. This particular stretch was much like the Road to Hana from long ago: it was bumpy, had potholes and ditches and patched throughout. We were all giddy to get to our next destination, the Ulupalakua Ranch Store and the Tedeschi Winery. 

When we reached the main road a rainbow greeted us. It was very picturesque and we all took it as a positive sign.

We soon separated, all pedaling at different paces. One of the men, Rob, noticed my rear derailleur giving me grief. We pulled to the side of the road and with a rock lying alongside the road he pounded the troublesome spot while using a nail to keep the chain from breaking. I nicknamed him MacGyver from the old t.v. show.

A bit further down the road my bike was not happy. I had traveled for nearly a week with a heavy laden bike and my chain was in need of lubricant. The others were ahead and my Ziplock baggie with the aforementioned article was not with me. I did, conveniently, have a bottle with olive oil and balsamic vinegar in it. Olive oil is a wonder for our health and it is an acceptable means to lubricate a bicycle while on a tour of Maui. Or so I now know thanks to the quick thinking of "MacGyver."

Thankfully the travel was easy after that and we made our way to the famous Ulupalakua Ranch Store. I ate a grilled chicken sandwich, Maui potato chips and drank nearly a liter of water. We were a bit scruffy looking at this point. I'm certain I had a layer of dirty grime on my face. I didn't mind. My belly was full and we were preparing to celebrate Vanessa's belated big birthday bash later that evening.

We were blessed, and I do not use that term lightly, by a gracious host and hostess named Roger and Paula Hegele, the owners of Tedeschi Winery and Vanessa's dear friends. They allowed us to stay at their home for the evening.

We were given clean towels, hot showers and a spot to relax and enjoy a new and altogether different scenery...that of a working Maui Ranch. Their restored home was beautiful, the food plentiful and the party was like something out of magazine. We tasted wine, we heard stories about the ranch turned winery and met their youngest son and sweet-natured dog. I actually cried when I stood in the hot shower, washing away the dirt. I appreciated the near-ending of the momentous journey. I was touched by the generous way the Hegele's cared for us, doing our laundry, and providing a spot to rest our weary heads. In point of fact, I slept on their porch on an outdoor sofa with cool breezes allowing me to bury beneath a thick sleeping bag.

As we departed from the winery the next and final day of our tour, we headed back down the Maui mountainside. We rode through pineapple plantations with wind so strong I was swept sideways an entire lane line and somehow did not fall. As strong as our headwind was going up the mountain earlier in the week, it was twice as strong heading down. We were flying, loaded pannier bags and all! Wheeeee!

Our Maui trip had come to it's conclusion. 

My road to Hana redo was over, in the most excellent of manners. I had survived one week post-marathon, a trip around the entire island, climbing up hills on my bicycle with loaded saddle bags. It was the most amazing experience of my life. I tapped into my younger, carefree self. The beauty was more amazing than I had imagined, the food more flavorful and the comaraderie formed amongst a small group of relative strangers is to be fondly remembered for years to come. 

On the road to Hana I also learned I am strong, in all definitions of the word.

Friends and family ask if I would consider doing a bicycle tour of such magnitude again?

The answer, enthusiastically, is yes.