The Long And Winding Road To My People

I pulled the steering wheel toward the right as hard as I could. I managed to find the one small spot that my Jeep Liberty would fit on the freeway onramp feeling a little less vulnerable. Still, as cars buzzed past me, causing my car to rock back and forth, they were within inches.

I was in a rough part of downtown Oakland when I lost control of my car. I did not feel safe getting out because there was nowhere to stand but sitting made me feel like a lame duck. I was blocking the majority of the freeway onramp, a hazard to the other drivers.

The Oakland police helped by using their cars as a protective barrier around me until my insurance’s tow truck came to pick me up.

Later that day when I was alone and home safe in my little condo, I had a personal meltdown. I cried. I cried because I was dating someone at the time that I could not count on to help me for a whole host of understandable reasons. I cried because my two younger kids were away at college and my eldest lived in Cleveland and I could not count on them to help. I cried because my dad had died years earlier and he was the one person I could always count on for emergencies. I cried because I was divorced and because when I was married at least 60% of the time my husband was home from work and I could count on him for any and all things mechanical, or his family on the days he was not. I cried because I felt my mom could not have helped me that day, I did not want to be a burden to my brother, one sister was away on her boat and another out-of-state. I cried because I have tons of friends but did not feel I could call any of them. Not one.

Since that time I have made many changes. 

I hit the restart button.

As a result, I am no longer dating that boyfriend. He realized he is in a “Lone Wolf” stage in his life, raising two small children, being a provider, staying sane by biking and not available the way a partner could and should be. 

I moved out of my condo, which had stairs from the garage, up to the kitchen and up to the bedrooms. It was comfortable and in a safe neighborhood and 4 miles from work. But there was no shade, no yard and I felt I was living in a cement city. I knew only 2 neighbors. I had moved there post-divorce and it was a wonderful home to my children and I but I felt called to move. The kids were all leaving the nest and though that town was a great place to raise kids and families it is not exactly a mecca for single women.

I bought a cottage in a town that is more urban than suburban. After a great deal of sweat equity on my part and the enlistment of electricians, handymen, a seamstress, lamp restorers, cabinet makers, wood workers, garden consultants, heating and appliances repairmen and installers I feel like I’m home. I have a garden, a writing nook and a house filled with items I love and collected over the years that felt like they belong in this cottage. The colors were hand-chosen and make me feel happy when I look around my home. It is both smaller, in the number of bedrooms, and larger, by forty feet in total square footage. I’ve met 26 neighbors at last count and though the mileage is farther, my commute to work is only 22 minutes door-to-door.

I do, however, have an alarm system. It feels both safer and not. And two of my kids opted to live at their dad’s house this summer for work and friends whereas the oldest has moved back to California on her own to embark on her nursing career in the City. I get more time with my mom and siblings and less with my kids. It is not how I envisioned it but it is okay. We have suppers together and my kids call me more and they cemented their love for me many years ago so I think it was their Dad’s turn this time. I love them and they love me and when they come here, there is a room waiting for them with a comfortable bed where I keep the light on each night.

After the move and getting my house in order I began training for Ironman Tahoe, which I signed up for exactly one year ago. I found an online training program and did short relaxing swims pre-season. I spent many hours and visits to numerous bike shops trying to find a good fit on my touring bike for an upcoming trip to Maui. While doing so my knee would not heal and actually was swollen and hurting with each new adjustment. It took from October until March. After three bike seats and numerous cleat and seat adjustments I finally was able to ride without my knee nagging me. In time I could ride either my road bike or tour bike comfortably. I could not run but told myself to be patient. That would come after my Maui trip. Besides, everyone has told me training for an Ironman is all about the journey of doing it. I can’t really explain why, but I just felt from day one that the Ironman was secondary….that it really stood for the fact that it was as if I were swimming and biking and running toward something, perhaps my new life or new beginning? 

On Maui I had a great time bike touring, carrying all of my gear and camping with other friends of mine. Maui is always magic with them. I fell.  My handlebar bag popped off on a bouncy section of the road and got caught in my wheels. My head slammed on the pavement twice but I was okay. That is until the next day when my ribs screamed at me with each intake or exhale of air or bounce on the road. We had a long day of riding to get back to the start and I just had to tough it out. It was by far the most difficult day of riding in my life. Tears streamed down my face in secret as I towed the back of the line. When we stopped at an old store ice was welcomed and put to good use on my rib cage.

My ribs healed and slowly, slowly I increased my gentle swims, began biking on my road bike and began to go on walks because first you must walk before you can run.

I tried no less than five pair of running shoes. None worked. My knee still hurt from the bike fits and injuries of the previous years. I walked. I shopped. I finally finally found a pair of shoes that seemed good for walking. Slowly I added more mileage and kept shopping for running shoes. 

At last I found a pair. I remember the first day I walk/ran 1 mile. Just 1. That was in April. I fell down during a trail run at the end of July on my right knee and my heart sank. I wondered if it would cut-off the run portion of my would-be Ironman race but after a week of ice and water jogging I carefully began running again. Since then my knees have gotten stronger and pain-free. PAIN-FREE! Two weeks ago my training plan called for a 21 mile run. I ran 15 of them with my good friend and former running partner and the first and last three by myself. It was pleasant and then next day I felt great. And the day after that too. Did you read that? I was training for an Ironman and felt better than ever. Each run brought a very real sense of gratitude, the same for each bike and swim. 

In a monetary sense this one race has cost me thousands of dollars. I had originally picked it because it was local and I naively thought it would only be the cost of the entrance fee, which is not cheap, $600 or $700. I had not counted on buying:

Multiple pairs of running shoes

Running socks

The perfect anti-chafing running skirt and triathlon running bras

A new fuel belt with extra bottles

Another fuel belt with one large bottle

A new running watch because my old one died in untimely death

Visors

For swimming I owned a wetsuit already, goggles, swimsuits and caps and all the other gear. I did purchase a new pair of goggles and just last week bought two suits on sale at Big Five because mine are getting old.

Biking was the most expensive:

A Garmin for tracking miles, cadence and more

A new stem because I was reaching too far

Two new bike seats because the old one was old and the new one was fine for under 60 miles but was causing blood blisters and chafing in the nether regions for 60+ mile rides.

More gears because the climbing of two big hills and one little in Tahoe at altitude made it necessary, especially because we get to do it twice on the bike route AND there is one little hill we get to do three times which I have dubbed “LB” for Little Bitch, ‘nuff said.

A new chain for the new gears I added to my bike.

No less than three pairs of biking shorts, trying to find the most anti-chafing pair

Lots of chafing creams were given to me to test out by a friend who sells bike parts

Four trips to my eye doctor because my lenses kept popping out of my prescription glasses, which I must wear while riding.

Two new helmets because the one in Maui was tossed after I came home and so I bought a replacement helmet. Later a teammate from our club was selling one at a great price and it was more for mountain biking.

Inserts for my cleats, which I believe, have helped my knees heal too.

A blue chamois-type cloth that you wet down on hot days which has prevented heat stroke for me. Amazing invention.

Nutrition:

I have tried energy gels and blocks and drinks and in short, they are expensive but very necessary. As of today I am the proud owner of sports drink mixes for long bike rides which have protein, another drink mix for runs or short bike rides, Shot Blocks to chew on and two brands of gels. I have supplements for lactic acid and salt for hot days.

Other unknown expenses:

I rented a cabin in Tahoe for my mom, daughter and friends to cheer me on. I have a lot of guy friends but this week is all about girl time!

Massages were no longer a “want” they were a “need” I went about once a month

I hired a coach; this event was too much for me to do on my own. Lucky for me he has been the perfect fit and his teams of athletes made me feel welcomed

I started going to Reiki

I took my first summer off in years and years, enjoying a vacation with my girls and focusing on training and relaxing in my new home.

Physically I was getting up at 4:45am to swim, 5am to eat two hours before the big training sessions on the weekends and 5:30am to run most days. I frequently had double workouts, biking in the afternoons of swim sessions and running or water jogging on the weekends. In short, I was tired. But growing stronger. 

I began dating another man, but after he saw how much time my training took away from “us” time, he pulled away.

I trained. Hard. A lot. 

At one point I was able to stay in Tahoe to train with teammates. I had a wedding the following weekend and stayed up there in between to train more. I previewed the swim, bike and run course. I had an okay time with the altitude but noticed a nagging cough that lingered for weeks and weeks both before and after. It got worse. I used my inhaler while in Tahoe but it didn’t help much, if at all.

I had a long ride at home a week or so later which I began with another Ironman participant and her husband. The nagging asthma cough joined me for the day. Mid-afternoon her husband headed home to be with her kids and she and I continued on the ride. We headed up Mt. Diablo. I was having trouble with my cough. I urged her to go ahead and we’d meet at an area called the Junction. I made it to the ranger station. Breathing was growing more difficult. I did not push it. I went very slowly up the hill. I was focusing on trying to get a breath in. I kept calm but noticed I was really really having to work hard and my throat was constricting and closing shut. I was fuzzy in my thinking but knew enough to be scared. My inhaler did nothing to help. I stopped. I told the next rider approaching to let my riding partner know I had to turn around. I was still working very very hard to breathe. I made it back down to the ranger station. I waited a long time to settle down and breathe; remaining calm but aware I might just need to call 911. I drank water slowly in small sips. I decided I just needed to get down that mountain NOW. I slowly rode downhill. I usually love to zip down at a fast clip. Not this time, not today. I whirled down the hill and felt more relief. I got to the bottom and steered in the direction of my car. Eventually I was able to inhale safely. I ended the day by running ten miles with just a little coughing. 

I saw a doctor and allergist and was prescribed prednisone, an antibiotic, a nasal spray, a nasal rinse and a new asthma inhaler. I took allergy pills and cough suppressants and I continued to workout and heal. In about two weeks I felt healthy. I could breathe. I felt no pain in my knees or heels or anywhere. I felt strong. Not 100% of what I’m capable of because of how much I had to overcome, but still.

This Monday I got my “taper” week’s workouts. I almost cried when I saw the 3000 yd swim (120 lengths of the pool) and 70mile bike ride on Saturday followed by a double run on Sunday of 105 minutes and 30-40 minutes. It did not feel like a taper when I read it. I have since learned tapering does NOT mean doing nothing; it’s doing less but a bit more intense. Everyone assured me this was normal, to feel emotional.

Next week’s plan would have been a huge drop-off in both length and intensity, in simple terms, half of this week’s plan. 

After that it would be race day.

Friday night I ate my pre-race dinner: chicken, sweet potato, applesauce and cooked veggies. I packed up all my gear for the next day in my car: swimsuit, towel, goggles, cap and bike gear which included my bike, Garmin, bottles of sports drink with baggies of extra powder for later in the route, money, credit card and license for emergencies, sports leg supplements and electrolytes, chapstick, my Road I.D. bracelet, bike gloves and shorts, socks, cleats, chamois cloth, Bag Balm for chafing, sunscreen, sunglasses, arm warmers if it got cold or as a sunshield and rubber bands to tie my hair back. I had a cooler ready with my recovery drink, ice, extra water and more gels and Shot Blocks, if needed. Lucky for me I didn’t have to pack up all the running gear!

Yesterday I got up and ate a 5am to practice my race day nutrition: scrambled eggs, avocado, sweet potato and applesauce.

I swam. I got dressed and geared up for my bike ride. We were all set and ready to go. I ran back to move my car. 

Big mistake.

Don’t ever run in your cleats and if you’re going to walk, take off your cleats or walk oh-so-carefully to your destination.

I didn’t.

I fell.

I broke my ankle. 

Ironman is out.

And so is walking. 

It’s the kind of break where you can bear no weight on your foot. I am on crutches and there is talk of the necessity of a scooter-type-thing-a-ma-jig. I’m hoping no tendons are involved. We’ll know more after the swelling goes down and I can see the orthopedic doctor and get a permanent cast. 

In case you’re wondering…no, I can’t have a swimming cast.

My mental health has been dependent on exercise, so there’s that concern. A big one.

I have a trip planned to Ireland with a girlfriend in 20 days. Rain in a cast?  Hmmm.

I was very calm. Just like when my car broke down. 

But you know what? I called my friends, my brother, my mom and texted my children, my other sister and my other friends, teammates, boss, co-workers and yes, I’ll admit I even posted it on Facebook. I shared that I broke my ankle and that my heart is a wee bit broke too. Right now there are a 100 comments of love, goodwill and encouragement.

If Ironman is all about the journey, maybe that is the lesson for me. 

I have been swimming, biking, running and walking with friends and family for an entire year. How lucky am I?

In an emergency, I have an entire host of people to call.

I’m very lucky.

I have my people.