Escape From Alcatraz Triathlon Race Recap

This is a recap of my very first attempt at the Escape From Alcatraz Triathlon, albeit a little bit "after the fact."

The week leading up to the triathlon was busy professionally and personally. My school year was coming close to finishing up and that entails a lot: grading, report cards, graduation and getting ready for summer school. My youngest daughter was graduating from the high school nearby too and there were preparations for the celebratory extravaganza for both she and her friends. Personally things were in a bit of an upheaval in the relationship arena. I'd like to brush that part aside and say it had no bearing on my week but that wasn't the case. In fact, it affected my sleep and my head and my heart so by the night before Alcatraz I did not feel well. Mentally I was not in a good place. Physically I was sleep-deprived, dehydrated and though I drank extra fluids it was not enough.

I gave up trying to sleep around 3:30am and decided to get up and head to San Francisco and set up my bike transition which was opening at 4:00am. I grabbed a banana and toasted half of a bagel adding peanut butter with toasted flaxseeds mixed into it with a bit of honey to top it off. Note to self: DO NOT EAT FLAXSEEDS on race day ever again. Never ever.

It was still dark and after I crossed the Bay Bridge I took a moment to soak in how beautiful it looked all lit up with lights. The magic of the day was just beginning...

I parked my car (finding a spot was not an easy task), finished up the bagel and unloaded my bike, wetsuit, running shoes, towel and everything else. Finding my rack position for my bike was a bit trickier than I anticipated but all of the other athletes were helpful. I racked my bike, set up a towel with my helmet, bike gloves and sunglasses. I set up another area on my towel for my running shoes, a visor and sunscreen.

I got in line for the bathroom, earlier-mentioned flaxseeds making it VERY necessary to visit IMMEDIATELY. Afterward I headed over to my transition area and the woman across from me pointed out my chain had fallen off my bike. I thanked her and immediately got to work to fix it. I also made sure my bike was in a nice easy gear for after the swim and transition run, knowing my legs would need to warm up.

I grabbed my wetsuit and headed in line for the bus which would bring all of us to the boat for our race's start. Everyone was excited and friendly and nervous. The  morning was memorable, no fog, warm temperatures and the views were breathtaking.

We were delivered to a nearby dock. I drank the remainder of my water and began to put on  my new wetsuit applying Body Glide on any spots prone to chafing. I was glad I had made the decision to put it on later, rather than sooner. There was so much time remaining, it didn't make sense to put it on beforehand. It would be at the finish of the race later in the day. I debated whether to use my neoprene swim cap with the chinstrap and the race cap over it or a traditional cap. I opted to use a traditional cap, put my goggles on and then the yellow swimcap I was given. I knew it was warmer than normal and decided it would be a nice swim, not too cold. I  put my sweatpants, jacket, extra swim cap and goggles in one of two bags provided by the race directors. After I turned it in I realized I had forgotten to put in my flip-flops, the only glitch thus far. I had to forever say good-bye to them, leaving them behind, they had served me well over the years so parting was sweet sorrow.  I wish I could have photographed this portion of the race, everyone lined up like seals as we boarded.

On the boat we sat and waited for take-off. The sun was rising, Alcatraz was ahead, the City behind and the Golden Gate to our left as we chugged along. More magic.

After the boat reached its destination we stopped and got ready for everyone to disembark by jumping into the Bay.  The professionals lined up outside while nearby boats had their cameras were aimed and ready, helecoptors hovered above, kayakers and paddleboarders surrounded us on standby, ready to help guide the swimmers.

The people I had spoken to who had completed this race: Jeff, Steve, Rob, Jonathon and Gordon said it was, "All about the swim." One friend said after I jump in the Bay to take a moment, look around and purposefully take in the moment.  I had also been coached to aim for the two tall buildings behind Aquatic Park and then turn right toward the beach exit. If I needed help, all I needed to do was to raise my hand and eventually I would be "rescued." I also knew I wouldn't.

As I stood in the group preparing to jump off the boat, the woman in front of me, likely in her 60's, turned to me and said, "Please do not jump in until I am out of the way." I could hear her frightened tone as she looked at me.

I said, "I promise I won't jump on you."

My heart began pounding, the anxiety catching. I leapt off the boat while keeping one hand on my goggles. And I was off!

While swimming thoughts swirled in my head. This is so great! I want to do this again! Look at Alcatraz over there. Wow! The Golden Gate is right there and everything is soooooooo clear. This is not so cold. 

After some time had passed, the water grew very choppy. I imagined that this is what it must feel like to swim inside a washing machine. I continued onward. Even though I knew to head to the left, there was a large group headed further right. I wondered if they had received last minute instructions about a change in the currents. Essentially I was told we were swimming across two river currents...by heading a little to the right I was pulled toward the Golden Gate and far to the right of the swim exit. No less than four times I gave 100% effort to go left toward the exit. Each time I would head left, pulling really really hard, lift my head and I was turned 180 degrees and facing the bridge. Finally the crew on the boat pointed to shore, and yelled for me to exit at the beach away from the exit. I did so, knowing I'd have to run across the sand and rocks. I stood and fell down as both legs were severely cramping.

I crawled and caveman walked to the exit area. I began to run with cramped legs to my tennis shoes. I pulled off my wetsuit, thew it over my shoulder, put on my shoes and ran to my bike. I thew my wetsuit on the ground, changed into my bike shoes, put on my sunglasses, helmet and gloves. I grabbed my bike and ran/walk to the next transition exit and began the bike ride.

This was the time to eat. I tried to grab bites of an energy bar I had cut up and drink some of my sports drink. My stomach was rebelling. I ate a Tums, something a friend had coached me to do if my stomach needed settling. I did as many bike pedal rotations as I could to try and de-cramp my calves. It did not help but I soldiered onward.

It was a game of cat and mouse with my fellow riders. My legs continued cramping on the uphills and I would pedal, pedal, pedal, getting passed. A downhill would approach and I would let 'er rip! Wheeeeeeeeeee! I'd pass my fellow bikers.

The day was perfect for this leg of the race: clear, sunny and with further  breathtaking views. Up, down, forward and onward we rode, soon we were approaching the transition area again.

"Go TeamCindy!" I looked and there was Colleen, TeamCindy's race coordinator and cheerleader extraordinaire. I was happy to have her and others yell out encouraging words  every so often along the course throughout the day. It gave me an energy boost each time.

Next I traded my bike shoes for running shoes, my helmet for a visor and added two knee braces. My calves were still cramping as I headed out on the run along the oceanside. This was not going to be a piece of cake. My entire day I felt slow and heavy and legs continued to cramp. Still, I really did enjoy my fellow athletes, we'd talk as we ran, co-miserating together or giving words of encouragement. I kept reminding myself that this was about the experience and not a race. Not this time. Not this day. Not for me.

As I ran down the street, I heard someone yell, "Kathy!" and looked to my right. There, standing under the shade of a tree, stood my son Troy. He had gotten up very early, driven to San Francisco, parked his car several City blocks away and found me in a sea of people. I really can't put into words what that meant, seeing my man-boy, his head tilted to the side, grinning that sweet smile of his, directed at me. I can only say I had a very familiar lump in my throat and had to work very hard to breathe in air at that point. It touched me so.

I forged onward.

I did not realize I was smiling during this tedious part until I heard a man running toward me in the opposite direction say, "At least someone is still smiling!"

Still. When it got even harder, climbing the first set of stairs, the upward trail, the mogul-y sand or the cursed 400 sand ladder steps, I knew I could not or would not stop.  This was all about TeamCindy, for Anamarie Neveau. I was lucky to be here on this day with cramps in my calves, sun beating above with  a view of the Golden Gate Bridge. Remember how awful this is, do NOT sign up for this race next year. I'm SO hot. Where is the end?!?

I s-l-o-w-l-y made my way back to the finish line.

I did not sprint to the end. I could not. I was tired. My calves hurt. My knees hurt. My body's tank was empty from a week of little sleep, a lot of questions in matters of the heart, and most of my morning fuel had gone through me due to a poor food choice before the race even began.

I finished.

I can say that I'm trying to find satisfaction in having completed the course during an unusually warm day, with a rebelling stomach, protesting knees, angry calves and a confused and bruised heart.

I can say I'm proud that many friends, family, team mates and yes, strangers, donated on behalf of Anamarie to the Brain Aneurysm's TeamCindy. Together we raised $3,545 to date. I met Cindy's mom via emails and phone calls, she is a hero in my mind. Some day I plan to meet her in person.  I can only say I feel a kinship to the maternal love and desperation that would drive her to create TeamCindy. I have felt that desperation this past year.  I thank her for allowing me to work through some of my own matters of the "mommy heart" in a way that helps other, while also doing something I love doing: swimming, biking and running. For that, I will always be grateful to both she and the organization she created.

I can say that Escape From Alcatraz was, to date, the hardest, slowest, most challenging and disappointing race I have completed.

It was also one of the most rewarding.

The Waiting Game

Lanny Edwards and Jen Handy in Kaui

Today I sit here and quite simply and humbly don't know how to write this entry. You see, I've been working toward the goal of spreading awareness of The Brain Aneurysm Foundation's organization. I'm raising money for TeamCindy by completing the Escape From Alcatraz triathlon in four months. I'm doing it as a way to acknowledge the legacy my friend and fellow mom, Anamarie Neveau left behind nearly five years ago. I've now learned about Cindy Sherwin, a vibrant young woman who was training for an Ironman and died from a brain aneurysm during that time period too. I've become aware of her mom, writing a book called Dear Cindy, I Love You  and forming TeamCindy as a way of dealing with her anger and grief and the unfairness of it all. I've learned about a woman on the Forward Motion Race Club, Tiffany, who literally is a running miracle. She had a brain aneurysm and survived. She runs. Fast. Very.

But about two weeks ago, another teammate, Lanny Edwards, was in Kauai with his friend, Jen Handy. They had a lovely dinner and were back relaxing after a long day. Jen had just downloaded photos of their adventures onto Facebook. She climbed into bed and began to feel sick. Nauseated. She did not have the typical killer headache. In fact, I have learned if you have the worse headache of your life, go to the hospital right away. Doing so can quite literally save your life.

For Jen, she did not have a headache. But in the early morning hours she experienced a ruptured brain aneurysm. Lanny found her and immediately called for help. She was flown by helicopter to Honolulu  and put into a medically induced coma. She had had two angioplasties in the arteries near her brain stem. It has been nearly two weeks of waiting. As each day ticks by her chances for recovery are not good.

Family has flown to be with her. Her stepdad, a devoted father, is asking for word to get out and for our prayers.

Now we wait.

If you would like to donate to the Brain Aneurysm Foundation please go to here:

Hope

I had just finished a very difficult ten miles,  I think I was overheated!

Many of my friends know I like to write and with the encouragement of my former boss I began to blog for a local city where I teach, as well as my own site. I have learned over the years that I sometimes struggle what to write when it involves those that I love or care about.

Case in point: For a significant part of my teaching career I had the most amazing teacher's aide. Her name was Linda Banwell. I met her when my eldest daughter Morgan was in kindergarten. Morgan was an energetic creative kindergartner and Linda embraced my daughter into the world of formal education in a way that was loving, accepting and encouraging. The next year I was added into her fold as well as I ended up team teaching and Linda became my teacher's aide too. Throughout the years Linda worked alongside me as I taught kindergarten, second, third and fifth grade. She grew to know and love all three of my children and was a huge support as my youngest daughter was diagnosed with Juvenile Diabetes. Throughout my day I would have to momentarily stop, prick her little seven year old finger, measure the insulin, and administer her shot. This occurred on a daily basis at least three times during the school day, more if her blood sugars were abnormally high. Linda would keep the students in the classroom on task during these short pauses. She was with me soon after I had returned to school after an ablation procedure for my heart. I was afraid to take time off as I was a new teacher and did not want to miss school (dumb, I realize now, I know). She was with me as I began the painful process of divorce about ten years later. During this time period I chose to ignore the divorce factor while enclosed within the four walls of my classroom which became my educational safe-haven. I could be a teacher first and forget about the unpleasantness and painful process while concentrating on the curriculum, children and my grade-level team's responsibilities. She was with me for the better part of my career at Vista Grande Elementary School in Danville. When Linda retired, I was asked to speak. Normally I relish such a task.

How was my talk about Linda? I'd say I choked. I could not put into words how truly wonderful and amazing and bright and talented this woman was to me and for all of the hundreds of children she worked with over the years. I feel I failed.

Describing the second week of training for the Escape From Alcatraz Triathlon and raising monies for The Brain Aneurysm Foundation's TeamCindy has also proven to be especially difficult.

Why?

It's because something terrible has occurred. Sadly, this week, the devastation of a ruptured brain aneurysm has struck again. I won't give any further details at this time as it is not my story to tell. However, I will say this, 1 in 50 people experience brain aneurysms. From there, the statistics are grim.

But there is hope and there are miracles. In fact, one such person is a member of my race club. She is a (running) miracle. She is, to me, amazing.

A weekend trail run!

And there is more good to describe. In a little over two weeks, we have raised $2,640, nearly 25% toward our collective goal to raise $10,000. I am both touched and amazed at the generosity of people. There are many members of Anamarie Neveau's family on the list of donors. It is a testimony to their love for Anamarie and her story and her legacy. There are members of the Forward Motion Race Club, my running coach, my friends and family and people and companies I do not even know.  I've received notes and comments on the San Ramon Patch blog, my Facebook page, the fundraising site and personal emails. The support has been overwhelming. Many of the donors have friends or family members who have died or suffered from having a brain aneurysm.

As far as my training, it's been spotty.  I have gotten a good start, though the swimming won't begin until this weekend or next Monday. I've struggled through a few of my runs and bike rides but overall I can't complain. I feel, as my friend has said, running is a privilege. I would add bicycling and swimming to that list too. Especially when I think of Anamarie Neveau. And Cindy Sherwin, of TeamCindy .

Anamarie

Cindy Sherwin was an amazing woman by all accounts (Link to Cindy's story here). She was a triathlete who died from a ruptured brain aneurysm nearly five years ago while riding her bike. As a way of dealing with her grief and to raise money for The Brain Aneurysm Foundation, Cindy's mother, Elaine Roberts Schaller, helped found Team Cindy.  Several events are held throughout the year while athletes compete and raise money to spread awareness, support and research funding to reduce brain aneurysm ruptures.

TeamCindy

This past week I also read Elaine Roberts Schaller's book entitled, "Dear Cindy, Love Mom" (link for the book). It is a book filled with letters that Elaine wrote to her daughter after her death. I found this book to be a source of comfort and think it would be a good resource for anyone dealing with loss or grief. I found Elaine's vulnerability of both her agony and grief heroic, though I imagine she would cringe at that statement. Her fight to try to do good for others through her work with the BAF and TeamCindy, her book and more, is inspiring.

This week, I am hoping for another miracle. Though the person's name is not mentioned, the hope is very real. And there are a lot of other people hoping and praying for a miracle too.

If you would like to donate please go to: BAFTeamCindyKathyDillingham

Escape From Alcatraz Training: Week #1

Escape From Alcatraz Weekly Training Recap

Week #1
Tuesday-It was a cold start, by California standards.

Wednesday-I rode my bike up Mt. Diablo for about an hour and witnessed a beautiful sunset.

Thursday-I ran 4 miles in the early morning and witnessed a beautiful sunrise.

Friday-"off" My daughter had a "slumber" party with 7 high school seniors who were up until 4am. I gave up and worked on report cards in my bedroom until 1am.

Saturday-I ran 8 miles with my running partner while wearing a headlamp so we could see. It was 7:30pm and 42 degrees (perfect!).

Sunday-A group of us from Forward Motion went for the Sunday bike ride, the rain started pouring so we had to turn around after 20 miles. I was cold, wet and had mud on my face. I thought the man at Peets Coffee was mesmerized with my recounting of the ride. It was only the dirt.

Monday-"off" I had a teacher work day, more report cards!

Fundraising Totals: $1,540

I also heard from Cindy Sherwin's mom, Elaine Schaller. I am touched.
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Together we can make a difference.

Please donate.

To donate or learn more about  The Brain Aneurysm Foundation please go to this link:

http://bafound.donorpages.com/TeamCindy2012/KathleenDillingham/

Anamarie Neveau

Anamarie. When I think of Anamarie I can’t help but think of her famous effervescent smile.  It was beautiful and so was she.

I first met Anamarie on the sidelines of a soccer or lacrosse game. I had heard nice things about her as our husbands worked together at the same large fire department. We were at a point in our lives where the children were too big to be hanging out at the firehouse with their dads for dinner or visiting Santa at Christmas therefor we had not met one another yet. Instead, we had five children between our two families and loads of their many activities to occupy our time. I looked forward to the upcoming sports’ seasons and getting to know she, her husband and children better. 

                        

What did I learn? Though she had beautiful brown hair and skin she was a shade-seeker just like myself. She had a mellow persona and had positive energy. She was close with her children. I know this because Whitney, her daughter, hung out on the sidelines to cheer for her brother on a consistent basis. I’m sorry, unless you have a particularly close bond with your children, no teenager is hanging out with mom on a Saturday afternoon. And again on Sunday. In the heat, no less.

I also know family was important because her son spoke highly of his mom and allowed her to joke and tease him and cheer for him on the sidelines. She would wear her big straw hat and sunglasses and cheer for that boy like no one’s business. And when he had problems with his leg she was there on the sidelines, supporting him while he was standing alongside the players with his crutches. And her husband would stroll in just as the game was starting as he’d been off doing his thing. She’d smile and greet him warmly. Their marriage was one that projected goodness. And I know family was important because there was talk of cousins and dinners and parties. Lots of them.

Anamarie was kind-hearted too. And generous. She was a reliable carpool mom as we carted our boys to and from practices. And she was a mean holiday cookie baker as my stomach well remembers. She was caring. I know this because she’d met my parents over the years. As my dad battled cancer Anamarie would chat and visit and make them feel welcome. The last game my dad attended due to his worsening cancer, she sat with us the entire time. Whenever I saw her after that the first thing out of her mouth was, “How’s your dad doing?” In return, she had made an impression on my parents and they would always ask about her.                

Just before Father’s day nearly five years ago Anamarie left us all too soon because of a ruptured brain aneurysm. It was very unexpected and shocked her family, co-workers, the fire department, soccer and lacrosse teams, the local school and neighborhood families and more. I remember having to call my parents and tell them. My dad moaned when he heard and my mom was grieved. The death of our lovely beautiful Anamarie was cruel. Everyone agreed.

Nearly five years ago, another young vibrant woman, Cindy Sherwin, was training for an Ironman race. While biking she suddenly suffered from a ruptured brain aneurysm and died.  The “Team Cindy” organization was formed in her memory.

When I learned of the opportunity to participate in the Escape From Alcatraz Triathlon for “Team Cindy,” raising money for The Brain Aneurysm Foundation I read about Cindy and immediately thought of Anamarie. I knew right away I wanted to participate.  I wanted to raise money and awareness for the only nonprofit organization dedicated to providing critical awareness, education, support and research funding to reduce the incidence of brain aneurysm ruptures.

I wanted to make both Cindy’s family, and Anamarie’s family know that maybe lives will be saved with the monies raised.

That is my hope.

Together we can make a difference.

Please donate.

To donate or learn more about  The Brain Aneurysm Foundation please go to this link:

http://bafound.donorpages.com/TeamCindy2012/KathleenDillingham/