The first time you hear "I have cancer" come from the mouth of a friend

There are times when you can plan and prepare as best as possible, but things don't go the way you set out for them to. You run into set back after set back. You modify your plan and keep moving forward, but are unable to get back on track. You begin to realize that the day you planned for, just isn't going to be your day. Not this time. Then you realize that maybe the journey you were on, was never really meant for just you. 

On September 18th we got a text from a friend that was supposed to run the Chicago Marathon with us. It read "Hi Chicago friends. I am very sad to have to let you all know that I will not be able to run Chicago with you guys. I have been diagnosed with Hodgkins Lymphoma and am not sure what the weeks ahead will hold for me..." I was at happy hour when I received this text. HAPPY HOUR. My heart sank, my eyes welled up with tears. I looked down at the floor and composed myself before joining back into the small talk at the table.

I have been lucky, blessed some will say, to have joined Team In Training (TNT), an endurance training group that raises funds for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (LLS) for blood cancer research, in 2007 and to NOT have a personal connection to cancer. I've raised over $25,000 through my events with Team In Training (thank you to everyone who has donated!). I am a founding Board member of the Honored Hero Run, which has donated over $118,000 to LLS in our seven years. I've met people over the last eight and a half years that have gone through, or are going through treatment. I have friends that are cancer survivors. I have cried beside my teammates as we listen to stories from our Honored Heroes. But I have never, NEVER, had to hear the words "I have cancer" come straight from the mouth of a friend. 

I joined TNT three months after moving to Texas. I had three goals when I joined. To meet new people, run a marathon and do something good. I always felt a little out of place at TNT. I never had a personal connection. I never wished for one. I was fine feeling out of place. I knew I was doing something good, helping someone's parent, sibling or friend. I was perfectly ok with that. I joined Team Rooster this year, to help a friend raise $100,000 in memory of her father. I didn't know her father. I didn't know her before TNT. It wasn't a personal connection. It was a way to feel some kind of connection to TNT. It was a way to help someone ELSE out who had to go through the experience of fighting cancer with someone they loved.

The Chicago Marathon will not be race for me. It is not a battle I have prepared well for. Not due to lack of trying, just due to those unforeseen bumps in the road. I was hesitant to sign up. Peer pressure got the best of me again. But I've come to the realization that maybe it wasn't supposed to be a comeback race for me. Maybe it was supposed to be an opportunity to spend time with friends and celebrate our good friend who will face battles much more challenging than any race any of us have run before.

One of TNT's slogans is "saving lives one mile at a time". Every step, every mile of our Chicago 2015 journey, is for you my friend. 

Qualitative Analysis and the Daggett Triathlon Club

My father is an engineer. I was raised learning how things work and why things work. If something broke, we took it apart and fixed it. We figured out how it was built, how it functioned and what went wrong to cause it to break. We analyzed it.

I grew up playing team sports. I found myself always looking ahead to the next possible play. I learned to analyze the game, the field, the court, my opponents and my teammates. Ever played Mexican Train Dominoes? The same concept applies. I lay out my dominoes in a fashion that will allow me to play the greatest number of dominoes the fastest and thus be out of dominoes first, leading to my winning the game. I use the information I have to build upon previous lessons learned and to further myself in whatever I come across. I found I always had to have the data to back up my next move in life.

In my previous career, I worked for the philanthropy department of two financial institutions. I administered multi-million dollar foundations, reviewed grant applications and analyzed (there it is again) their financials and their impact on our communities. I thrived on quantitative data.

I have reviewed thousands of grant applications, from nonprofits that are doing absolutely phenomenal work. I aided in both the approval and decline of these applications. My heart weighed heavy from some decisions, but at the end of the day there is only so much money. 

I found my battle, in the review of these applications, was the deficiency in use of qualitative data. That, and the fact that I just cared too damn much. I wished there were endless buckets of money to provide to these programs. Our focus was on proven, sustainable programs. Those that had the quantitative data to back up their request and could prove longevity of a program via past results and future forecasts. Our use of the provided data was solid and, understandably, essential to funding those programs that presented themselves as the most viable and successful in their field.

Yet, I still struggled. I questioned how some organizations could gather the necessary data we required to prove the impact of their program. This was especially significant in the education field with the lack of access to testing scores.

Two years ago I left that job. I worked part time for a friend with a catering company, until I could get my coaching business up and running. During this time I started coaching the kids at Daggett Middle School. It’s where my heart is.

The point of everything I have written above, is that some great things can’t be proven quantifiably. For the first year or so that we had the Daggett Tri Club, I searched for ways to demonstrate the impact of the triathlon club on the lives of the kids that were participating, through their improvement in school and through testing scores. The philanthropic wheels in my head were turning, searching for ways to collect data on our kids to prove that we were having a lasting impact, in order to request funding for the program.

We are lucky to have many community members and groups that have adopted and supported our program without requiring hard data with proven statistical results. Awhile back I came to the conclusion that the quantifiable data just isn’t accessible. It’s there, but I may never be able to provide a spreadsheet that proves this program is working.

If you come out and observe these kids, the qualitative data will hit you in the forehead like a ton of bricks. You will witness them helping one another, without being asked. If you come out on a regular basis, you will experience a growth in these kids, over time, that will make your heart smile. You won’t be able to explain it verbally, but you will know, in your heart and in your mind, that these kids are growing into remarkable young adults right before your eyes. These kids are the foundation of our next generation.

You will observe one of our faster swimmers swimming an extra lap with one of our slower swimmers, so he’s not the last one in the pool after everyone else is done. You’ll see our kids running back up to the parking lot at Benbrook to help our adult kayaker carry her kayak down. When they are awarded candy in class for a correct answer, you’ll witness our Tri Club kids sharing it with those who weren’t awarded any candy so that everyone gets some. At races, you will see our faster kids patting their teammates on the back as they pass them on the run. They’ll give a smile and an encouraging word and then pick the pace back up and finish their race. They’ll grab their medal and then they’ll head back out on the course to cheer on the remainder of their teammates. If you work directly with their teachers, as I do, you’ll get texts with pictures of math problems being solved with reference to run cadence. When they are offered a treat in the store, you will find they come back with a loaf of bread for their family, and not candy for themselves, because it’s what their family needs. They will say “thank you” and when you hear it, you will know it is said out of pure gratitude and not out of habit.

The fact of the matter is that the Daggett Triathlon Club isn’t nurturing triathletes. We are rearing the cornerstones of the next generation, and boy will they be strong leaders. I have said it before and will reiterate it, if these kids never do another triathlon after leaving Daggett it won’t break my heart. I love the sport, but more over I love these kids. My hope is that they fall in love with all three or at least one of the disciplines, but most of all that they find an outlet to a better life. I want them to go to college, to have an education, get a good job and provide for themselves and their families. I want them to have opportunities they may not have had access to without the life lessons they have taken away from the Daggett Triathlon Club. I want them to continue to grow into great people, great people with loving hearts that can pass on the support they have received through the Daggett Triathlon Club to someone in need that they meet in life. I want them to join the infrastructure of the great people in this world that know that everything can’t be proven quantitatively, that analysis doesn’t always provide the necessary facts, that sometimes, many times in life, you just have to provide and believe.

Ironman Lake Tahoe - The Race, The Myth, The Legend

Packet pick up with Jenn and Steve

 First off - to those of you that said we were making the bike course out to be harder then it was...this is what I have to say to you - you were WRONG!  We were spot on.  

Everyone always freaks out about the weather the closer it gets to race day.  Ironman Coeur d’Alene 2011 (my first IM) proved to me that you should be prepared for everything, but not worry about the weather.  It is what it is and you can’t control it. 

Ironman Lake Tahoe drove this point home.  When Steve, Jenna and I dropped our bikes off in T1 on Saturday rain was falling and the lake was white capping.  Let me restate that, driving rain was coming at us from what seemed like all angles and it felt like someone was throwing needles at our faces.  The lake was almost unrecognizable and looked more like the Northern California coast.  The rain was so thick, you couldn’t see the mountains across the lake.  I dropped Kunoichi on her rack (which had no other bikes on it at the time, so I somewhat imagined I would arrive Sunday morning to find her up in a tree from a massive gust of wind…) and left my T1 bag (which we double bagged with garbage bags) on the cold asphalt, outside, in the rain.  I snapped a quick picture of the “lake” and ran back to the truck.  I was soaked to the bone.  A big shout out to the volunteers who were out there for hours helping receive bikes and bags for us.  We dropped our T2 bags at Squaw Valley (they were set up on tables inside a tent) and headed back to the house with a request for hot cocoa and the fire to be burning when we arrived. 

Lake Tahoe or the Pacific Ocean???

 As we made our way back to Truckee Facebook posts began reporting SNOW!  I knew it wasn’t cold enough to stick, but really, snow???  After about 10 minutes at the house…it began to snow.  Still, I didn’t freak.  I worried a bit about ice on the roads from them not drying over night, but knew tomorrow was a new day and we just couldn’t predict what it would bring.

Thanks to Fiona and Hans, Sunday morning I woke up about 1 mile from the swim start.  They were kind enough to open up their condo to Steve, Kristina, Karrie, and I so we didn’t have to worry about race morning traffic.  I got up at 3:30AM, slowly got all my breakfast down and then laid back in bed trying to relax my nerves and warm up some before we headed out into the 30* weather.  Out the door we went at 5:15 to meet Jenna and Chris and head to the swim start.  Big thanks to Chris for driving us down to the swim start and saving us from having to do 141.6 miles that day :)

I had bundled up, even grabbing some old ski gear we had at the house (a white cotton shirt with snowflakes on it, one size to small, which left a few inches between my wrists and the cuffs).  It was chilly outside, but I was dressed to keep warm and didn’t feel too cold.  I began to put my wetsuit on after pumping up my tires and putting my nutrition on my bike.  The clock was ticking and our swim start time was slowly approaching.  Due to a shoulder issue I decided to go with a sleeveless wetsuit and arm sleeves.  

Following my nutrition plan, about 15 minutes before I got in the water I ate a Gu…I didn’t think about the cold weather…my Gu was frozen.  It entered my mouth as a freezing cold chunk of sliminess.  Somehow, through laughter that brought me to tears, I got it down.  

Frozen Gu face...

Steve, Kristina Large and I were standing at the swim start when they began the Star Spangled Banner.  I was just in my wetsuit at this point and began to shiver.  Kristina took her jacket off and put it on my shoulders and hugged me through the entire song as I stood there shivering.  Her kindness and the emotions of the culmination of the training for the event we had been swimming, biking, and running for over the past year brought tears to my eyes.  Steve and I headed to the swim start.  As we lined up in the back of the 1:10-1:20 group, Steve asked if I would join him in a short prayer.  His words were kind and brought me to ease, and even made me laugh as the crowd shuffled forward Steve said “it’s ok, we can walk while praying, God will be ok with that.”  As we approached the swim entrance arch I looked up and took in the scene at the lake.  The sun was just starting to come up and a thin layer of fog lay over those already swimming.  Buoy tips emerged from the fog and paddle boarders flowed across the lake as if in slow motion.  The snow capped mountains (yep, there was no snow the day before) set the back drop for what is the most gorgeous swim I think I will ever do in my life, it simply can’t be duplicated.  I crossed the mat, entered the 60ish degree water and so began the next nearly 14 hours of my life.

No words can describe this.  I didn't think a picture would capture it, but Karrie has done it here!

The clarity of the water was amazing, making drafting a simple task, the fog however made sighting nearly impossible.  I am a left-sided breather, but the sun was casting a pink glow on the mountains and clouds to the right, so I switched it up and breathed to the right…it was worth it, even though, for some reason, I always go off course when I breath to the right.  My swim was the smoothest I have ever felt.  I stayed with the crowd, which allowed for less sighting on my part.  Loop one was over before I knew it.  A paddle boarder came right next to me and as I turned my head left under water three silver caps (male pros) came gliding by me as if I was standing still.  Rounding the last turn buoy for the first loop put me smack dab in the middle of a pack of people walking.  I kept swimming as I didn’t want to lose my rhythm.  Lap two led to some calf cramps, for which I slowed and moved my ankles around to keep myself loose.  Before I knew it I was nearing the end of the swim.  I swam in as far as I could, scooped some water into my wetsuit and stood up.  Music was blaring and the crowd was cheering.  I walked (what the heck, I had a marathon later in the day, I was kinda frozen, and I just wanted to take it all in) to T1.  I skipped the wetsuit strippers as I wanted to stay as warm as possible before entering the changing tent.

We had so many sherpas come to support us in Tahoe, that I heard my name called multiple times as I exited the swim.  The kids are the best.  I think they somewhat understand what we’re doing, but not quite to the full extent.  That being said, I heard Bryce (Missy’s little boy) say “there’s Liesel!”.  His enthusiasm in the freezing cold, early morning and my remembering his question the day before (are you going to win?  HA!) made me smile.  

Our AMAZING Sherpa crew (minus a few)

I attempted to grab my T1 bag by the strings, but quickly changed my mind as I realized the strings were frozen.  I picked it up and hugged it all the way to the tent.  The changing tent was packed.  During my CdA I had a chair and a volunteer to myself.  The scene here was a little different.  The tent was packed, there were bare butts all over the place and carnage of wetsuits strewed along the floor of the tent.  I found a roughly 2ftx2ft spot in the tent and dumped my bag.  Fingers crossed I got into all my clothes and was able to collect all my own swim gear and get it back into my bag.  I opened my toe warmers and jiggled them around so they would begin to warm up.  I got myself dressed, with no assistance, which is a pretty decent feat in itself…anyone who has attempted putting a sports bra on when you are wet will know what I’m talking about!  I grabbed my toe warmers to stuff in my toe covers, only to discover they hadn’t warmed up.  They didn’t work.  I stopped in my tracks.  What to do?  It had warmed up some outside, but was maybe 40*s.  I shoved them back into my bag and headed out the tent to my bike.  Nothing I could do now.

I walked to my bike (remember, marathon later, why run now?).  As I crossed the mount line I heard my name called out.  I looked back over my shoulder to see Jenna hopping on her bike as well.  I wished her good luck and head out on what would consume the next 7 hours and 30 minutes of my life.

The first 20 miles of the bike were harsh.  Not necessarily due to the terrain (aside from Dollar Hill), but because I could not feel anything beyond the ball of my foot.  As we headed down 89, I began rotating unclipping my left and right foot and moving my ankles around to try and bring them back to life.  As we approached the turn to River Street I considered calling it a day.  I felt fine, but my feet were so cold I began to worry about frost bite.  It felt like there were blocks of ice in my shoes and began to wonder how long my feet could be this cold before frost bite set in.  Was it really worth losing toes to complete the race?  I know to those of you who were not there, this may sound a bit over the top.  But as anyone who did the race or spectated.  It was freaking cold.  Due to all the coasting down 89, I knew I had started out slower than I wanted, but it was worth it to save my toes, although I still couldn’t really feel them.

I passed through Truckee’s Commercial Row and began the next climb/switchback set into the neighborhood North of Truckee.  On the descent I saw Rob and Christa cheering.  They were my first Sherpa sighting and a much needed sight to see!  A bit down 267 we made the turn into Martis Camp.  The “secret” section of the course that runs through a Ritzy neighborhood that didn’t want anyone to bike/drive through it prior to the race.  These climbs proved to be the toughest on the course and mentally, the most taxing.  I kept my eye on my power meter, trying my best to keep my watts down, but there came a point where if I lowered my cadence any more I would no longer be able to balance on the bike.  The climbs were too steep for the gears I had (compact crank and 11-28).  Roadies were passing me left and right (due to the climbs on the course, there were far more road bikes than I have seen at other IM events), but I stuck to my plan and continued to climb at what I later discovered to be roughly 4.5mph…during the athlete briefing meeting the USAT official told us that they WOULD be giving drafting penalties on the climbs.  SERIOUSLY!!!  I looked up the hill as 60+ athletes were lined up climbing and wondered if there would be enough space in the penalty tent for all of us…needless to say, I did not see anyone receive a drafting penalty.  As we approached the top of Martis, I got the ski lift in sight and focused on it, knowing, once I reached it the climb would be over.  To my horror, I then noticed switchbacks and cyclists continuing to climb.  The beast wasn’t over yet.  Soon I reached the top, legs taxed, but with some feeling in my feet.  Maybe I wouldn’t lose any toes after all!

The Martis Camp descent was technical, fast, and FREEZING.  The final descent led straight into a sharp right turn which led to the beginning of the Brockway climb.  This is what we had trained for at Mount Scott for months and the mental fortitude we built from these training sessions are what got me through that climb.  I sat back in the saddle, and knew the next 25 or so minutes would just be a long slow climb.  My legs were fatigued as I reached the summit and I wondered how I would complete these two climbs again, but at mile 80.  

In the words of Andy Martinez "Why is the background at such an angle ;)"

Descending Brockway was fast and again FREEZING.  As I approached 28 I heard cheers from more of our Sherpas.  Monica, Kristina Berry, Rachel Hale, the Chapa Clan, Cyril, and my parents were there at the corner whooping and yelling for us as we passed.

Sherpas!

Lap two of the bike was pretty uneventful, aside from the fact that my contact came out on 89.  I had looked down at my Garmin and then noticed the vision in my right eye was blurry.  I could feel my contact on my eyelid.  I shut my eye and "held" onto it until I could pull over to stop.  I whipped my gloves off and somehow rescued my contact and got it back in my eye.  The rest was similar to lap one…only a bit slower and I could finally feel my feet!  Familiar faces were all over the course, which made a tough day a little more manageable.  I saw our neighbor Doug and Anthony as I climbed up to the bike trail behind Truckee.  Anthony whipped out his mountain climbing skills and flew to the top of the climb to get me on video.  Christa and Rob were still going strong at the corner of death and my parents were at the entrance to Martis.  The last two climbs were brutal.  The field of cyclists had cleared out on the climbs.  The last two climbs were brutal!  As I neared the top of Brockway I noticed a man in a speedo in the middle of the road and some crazy lady with a camera (Karrie) came running up next to me (at what seemed like light speed) and jogged along side me (probably a damn slow pace for her).  I shared some expletives regarding her sauntering along side of me as I was moving at a snail’s pace.  Kristina Large had summoned a group of sherpas at the top of the climb who ran and cheered for me as I finished my ascent.  As I was approaching I began to rack my brain as to why I had wanted to stop at the top of Brockway.  I couldn’t remember and so kept going.  As I began the descent my memory returned…I had wanted to pull up my arm warmers.  F*ck it was COLD!  As I flew down Brockway at speeds over 40mph, there was nothing I could do about it.  Loud Sherpa cheers came as I turned onto 28 and began the final stages of my ride.

As I turned into Squaw Valley to complete the bike portion of IMLT I was both happy to get off my bike and a bit worried about how I would complete my run.  I hopped off my bike, grabbed my Garmin and entered the changing tent.  Due to the desolate ride I had on loop two I thought most people would be out on the run course by this time.  However, it seemed nearly half the T2 bags were still on the tables.  They called out my number and a sweet little girl ran me to my bag.  As I entered the changing tent I saw Nancy, who I had met at lunch the first day we arrived in Truckee.  I changed quickly and she asked (motherly-like) if I had a long sleeved shirt.  It was getting chilly again (I don’t know if it was ever NOT chilly that day, but the sun was going to be going down soon). 

I headed out on the run course.  Every step, for the first mile or so, felt like my quads were tearing each time I landed.  As I exited Squaw I heard our sherpas and looked to the side to see Missy standing with them.  Missy had started the race with me, but was pulled on the bike course.  All I wanted to do was run over to hug her, but she had a smile on her face and yelled for me as loud as the rest of our sherpas had been yelling all day.  At that point I told myself I had to get over my legs hurting.  If she had the courage to come back out on the course, I had to get my butt in gear and get at this run.

Smiling and running

As I began the run down the trail leading out of Squaw, I kept an eye out for my friends who were coming in on the bike.  I saw Steve and yelled out to him to catch me (but not to take off too fast!), I just remember him pointing his finger at me as if to say “I’m coming to get you!”.  He had a huge smile on his face!

I heard an unfamiliar voice yell my name as I headed into Squaw Creek, only to discover that it was a high school friend, Anna Foletta, who was out cheering on another friend at the race.  Surprise supporters were a welcome sight.  Karrie and Kristina were at the bottom of the hill cheering for me as I passed.  The next portion of the course would take us out the opposite way of the bike course to Tahoe City.  I had taken off easy so as to stick to my plan of a negative split, but about 6 miles in I began to feel a tightness in my chest.  Altitude and Asthma don’t mix.  When this starts I am unable to get a deep breath and not long after I get a side stitch.  I kept running, taking deep breaths and stomping my right foot as I landed trying to get rid of the stitch.  It would subside and then reappear.  So was the process for the remainder of the run.  At some point someone told me I had a great stride and cadence...everyone knows what that means...you look like sh*t, but we'll try to make you feel better by saying that :) 

#1 Sherpa, Kristina!!!

There is a point in every endurance event when one’s brain stops functioning as it should.  I realized I had reached this point when I ran up to a porta potty, saw the latch was on red and convinced myself red meant it was available…after tugging on the door a few times a voice said, “it’s all yours in a sec”.  Oh yeah, green means go…red means stop.  Oops.

As I rounded the corner to head back up to Squaw, I thought I was having another endurance brain fart when I looked over at the volunteer handing out chicken broth and thought she looked oddly like Karrie.  Her jacket was unzipped just enough for me to get a glimpse of her shirt and sure enough she was wearing a Team Fort Worth shirt.  What the heck was she doing? (she had decided she was going to be out there awhile, so she might as well help out :) what good sherpas we have!).   

Sherpa Karrie :)

This next portion consisted of walking (I walked all hills), convincing myself to continue running, and then more walking.  My chest hurt, it was getting really cold and my legs were just plain fatigued.  As I crossed back over Squaw Creek I heard that voice yell “GO STRIKER” (high school soccer nickname) and I gave Anna the best smile I could muster at that point.  I had seen many friends on the run course at this point and all brought smiles to my face.  The last person I remember seeing was Jenn Thomas.  She waved and smiled at me as we passed.  As I headed back up to Squaw I looked up at the mountains I realized how absolutely stunning the scenery was.  The sun was reflecting off the golden field to my left and shadows were cast across the mountains standing in front of me.  It was breathtaking (maybe that was partly the asthma :)).

Our large Sherpa clan had moved to near the finish chute and their loud cheers energized me as I entered Squaw (you know those evil Ironman Race Directors always make you loop back around by the finish line, so you can hear it…but know you’re not there yet!) to begin my second loop of the run.  As I looped around and ran past them again I noticed Kelly with them.  He was whooping just as loud as the other sherpas.  Kelly, too, had not made a cut off and was unable to complete his Iron day.  The amazing part about this, is that he was out there.  Cheering for his friends and his wife who were still on the course.  I got so much energy from just seeing him out there, I can’t even put it into words.  Every Ironman is tough, but I can only imagine how hard it is to pick yourself up from being told that today is not your day and coming back out to support others.  I got the kick I needed and headed back out.

Darkness was setting in.  I clicked on my head lamp and began the Ironman shuffle.  I had 8 miles to go.  I had seen Misty on my first loop and she was looking STRONG!  I was just waiting for her to catch me on the run.  I had a few moments of weakness on my last lap.  I walked some flat and had to talk myself into running, as I would be done faster if I did.  Kristina ran with me for a bit and handed me my California Love hat to finish in.  It was cold and dark and lonely out there.  No longer could I make out the faces of other runners.  As I began my last descent of 89 I shined my light on every bib until I found Misty.  We said “hey” as we passed, I think we barely recognized each other in the pitch black.  I was on a downhill and kicked it in, it hurt, but I wanted this thing to be over.

I had to take the final stretch in pieces.  Get to the hill, then Squaw Creek, then the break in the road (OMG, where is the break in the road, did I miss it?  Was it really this far…), then to the water stop, then to the beginning of the chute.  I heard Mike Reilly’s voice as I approached the chute.  He was calling in Ironman.  

I had never been so happy to finish a race in MY LIFE.  I was told I would be emotional at my first marathon.  When I finished that, I crossed the line, put my hands on my knees and wondered why the heck I had signed up for a marathon…then I went on to do many more…which led to triathlons…then to an Ironman…then to another Ironman…I guess I didn’t get my own memo.

As I ran over the cobblestones (little hard to stand up straight on) I got a huge smile on my face.  The energy of the finish chute was overwhelming.  I ran down giving high fives to kids and all those cheering for us.  I was so excited I didn’t even notice I was high fiving all our sherpas.  

Monica made my picture!

I put my hands in the air in victory.  I had just competed Ironman #2.  My legs were toast.  I walked into the arms of a catcher, who wrapped my in a blanket.  My parents were standing on the side of the chute and my dad gave me my medal and my mom a huge hug.  I little further down I saw Kristina, who had snuck in saying she was bringing me my asthma medicine.  I was embraced again.  I had tears in my eyes.  The beast had been conquered.  It wasn’t pretty, but it was what I had expected.  I know I say I’ll never do a flat Ironman (I get bored too easily!), but after tackling IMLT, I just might change my mind!  

 

With the rents post race

The DNF (Did Not Finish, or as we like to say Did Not Fail) rate at Tahoe was nearly 25% (this does not include those that did not start the race, it would jump to 34% if it did).  This was the highest DNF of any IM to date.  To everyone who toed the line that morning, I say congrats.  To be able to say you did even part of that course is a HUGE accomplishment.  For those that finished and those that came back out to cheer on others, I am so glad to have you all as Iron brothers and sisters.  

Done!

Ironman Tahoe Course Review

I hope that this will help some of you training for IM Tahoe in September of this year.  Like any other race you have done, if you are putting in the training time you will be fine.  Remember, also, that everyone is different, the advice I offer below is from my point of view and I’ll try to reference that whenever I can.

Take a water bottle and electrolyte bottle with you to Tahoe.  Carry them with you EVERYWHERE you go.  Your kids usually get a binky, this is your Ironman, and you too get a binky or two.  Drink, drink, drink (water and electrolytes).  Stay hydrated and keep sunscreen with you as well.  You burn quicker at altitude, so pay attention to how long you’re out in the sun. 

As far as your method of training (Perceived Exertion (PE), Heart Rate, or Power) you MUST modify your zones in order to take into consideration the altitude.  I will be making a 5-10% decrease in my heart rate and power in order to compensate for the altitude.  For those of you that train with Heart Rate, my low Z2 felt like mid to high Z2 on my exertion level.

My suggestion to you: start your first training ride and run in Tahoe without looking at your watch.  Go off of PE and once you feel warmed up and like you’re running/riding at your Zone 2 level, take a look at your heart rate or power and see where you actually are.  From that point on in your training ride/run, pay very close attention to those zones and make note of the differences due to altitude.  If you stick with your regular training zones you’ll trash your legs before you ever get off the bike and you won’t be able to recover from that.   

RACE MORNING:  Bundle up!  Think pants, a hoodie, and SHOES (not flip flops).  It’s going to be chilly at the start and you’ll want to keep your body temperature up.  I may even consider a beanie (or for those of you from Texas, a toboggan…this will be confusing to anyone in Tahoe as we see toboggans as sleds…)

SWIM:  We swam Saturday morning at roughly race start time.  The water was 68 degrees, chilly upon first entry, but once we got swimming it felt perfect.  My rule of thumb is 65 degrees and up I’m in a sleeveless wetsuit.  I run hot and I also have a shoulder issue, so the extra material pulling against my left arm, and heat from the sleeves, makes me uncomfortable.  You know you, so think of races you have recently done and make your wetsuit choice taking that into consideration.  I swam Galveston, Marble Falls, and Buffalo Springs in sleeveless this year and was fine.  Something I learned a few years ago in Coeur d’Alene (and was reminded of again in Tahoe) is NOT to go swimming when you arrive in the early afternoon.  The lake is gorgeous, and inviting…and also deceiving.  We swam one day around noon in our bathing suits.  It was FANTASTIC and I could have floated in a tube all day with a beer in my hand…but race morning will be a different story.  Get out there a couple mornings around 7AM and test the waters.    

The clarity is that of Hawaii or the Caribbean.  I will deem this a “draft friendly” race (in the water, people!).  If you are going with a group (like the monster pack from Texas that is heading out) and you have people that swim your same pace, there is great opportunity to work off of each other.  Tip – the bottom of all feet pretty much look the same under the water…You can wrap a little K-Tape under the arch of your foot so you can easily find your draft buddies.  This offers great opportunity to work together and save some energy (and ultimately time) in the swim.  Warning here, have a conversation with your draft buddies before race day and get on the same page.  If you get separated, you get separated.  Go on your way and find some more bubbles to follow.       

I would also suggest bringing ear plugs for the swim.  If it’s a little cooler your equilibrium can be thrown off by the cold water in your ears.  I did notice a bit more fatigue from the swim, due to altitude, but was not totally thrown out of my zone by the compression of the wetsuit and the altitude.  Just like the bike and run, you’ll have to focus on your exertion level and adjust it.  It was nothing like it has been described, like a life-sucking, compression of death experience.  It truly wasn’t bad at all. 

BIKE:  I am having a hard time putting a description of the bike course in words.  I’ll lead by saying, I don’t want to scare anyone, but at the same time, I have to be realistic.  If you’ve been putting in your dedicated long, slow climbs, you’ll be just fine.  Lots of talk has been thrown around about the 11-32 cassette that can be purchased to assist in climbing (take note, that you’ll also need to get a new rear derailleur and new chain to accommodate the extra gears you’re adding).  For those that are VERY challenged by hills and/or have not been putting the training time in to build strong legs for these climbs, AND have the financial capability of making this purchase, it may be a good idea for you.  Yes, it will help during the entire race, as you will have less grinding up the hills.  I am running a compact crank and 11-28 and plan to stick with that for race day.  I would definitely recommend an 11-28 and if you are able to swap out your standard crank for a compact, I would do that as well.  The issue here is not being able to make it up the climbs, but rather saving your legs as much as you can so you have them left for the run.

The first section of the ride, along the lake, is pretty flat.  There is a surprise climb at mile 6-ish, that isn’t too bad, but kind of comes out of nowhere.  The next section of the course, up 89 to the town of Truckee, is flat and FAST.  My recommendation here, is to hold back.  You can make up a ton of time on this section of the course, but remember the climbing you have later on in the ride.  It’s easy to go 25+ on this section and it actually feels pretty good.  I was doing this at mid to upper Z2 (my regular Z2) and had I been completing the entire course, I would have found it tough to keep that pace up on the second loop.  On our recovery ride I was easily holding 20mph on this section and was not exerting nearly as much energy.  My biggest piece of advice, to the average age-grouper, is DON’T GET EXCITED HERE.  The speed is fun and you can fly, but remember what you have ahead of you.

 

You’ll wind through downtown Truckee and then head up another slow climb onto the bike trail.  This section will slow you down.  It’s a steady climb, followed by a narrow, winding bike trail.  Once you’ve completed the trail, you’ll be in the neighborhood north of highway 80.  Here you’ll find some more climbing, before descending onto 89/267.

The first section of 267 is pretty fast too.  We ran into a headwind here, but could still get some good speed going.  We didn’t attempt to go through Martis Camp (the closed off neighborhood), we were trying to keep the peace J  But if it’s anything like the climb up to the Ritz, on the opposite side (where we will descend prior to climbing Brockway), it’s going to be a tough one.  We have two challenging climbs back to back, with a pretty good descent between them.  Keep soft pedaling (continue your pedal rotation as you are descending) in order to keep your legs loose.  You don’t want to hold your legs steady after a difficult climb, your you may freeze up or cramp.

The climb up Brockway was pretty much what I expected it to be.  Similar to what we’ve been doing at Mt. Scott, HOWEVER, it felt easier on my legs, but my pace was slower.  You descend down Brockway (you can get some good speed here too), it’s not too technical (that’s what Liesel thinks J Jenna here…most of the descents scared the shit out of me! ) play it safe, but you can really make up some time on this descent if you’re comfortable descending on your bike.  Post-Brockway descent brings you back down to King’s Beach for round two of the bike.

RUN:  SPELL-BINDING!  The first section of the run is pretty flat, before starting a quick climb up and around the Squaw resort.  Then comes a good descent onto Highway 89.  You’ll follow this South towards the lake.  This portion of the run is on the shoulder of the highway and is a slow ascent.  You’ll make sharp turn down a dirt path onto the trail for the remainder of the run out.  BE CAREFUL on the dirt section.  I would hope they light this section on race day.  It’s loose and has some wooden steps, so take it easy.  The portion along the trail is absolutely breathtaking.  You’ll slowly be climbing on the way out, but will feel the difference on the descent back to Squaw.  The trail will get dark at night (sunset is a little before 7pm in September), I would highly suggest getting a headlamp (my favorite is the little clip on light that goes on the bill of your visor/hat).  The tight elastic of a headlamp gives me a headache, but you can’t even tell the visor light is there, so I would highly suggest that.  There is climb on the run going back up into Squaw for the second loop, but it looks worse than it truly is (ask me about this again on my head back to the finish and I may change my mind on that description).

I would suggest putting arm warmers, a jacket, and possibly gloves in your special needs bag for the run.  When the sun goes down, it will get chilly out there!

Recap of my recap: This will be one of the most breathtaking, awe-inspiring events you have ever done.  Conquering this course will not be without hard work and mental toughness.  I know 20+ people going up to Tahoe and have no doubt that each of them can complete this course.  They MUST trust in their training and have the mental toughness to know that they can complete it.  It will not be easy, nor will any Ironman be easy, but this one will take true grit and the will power of knowing you’ve put in the time and effort and CAN DO IT.  We have eight weeks left to prepare.  Your base has been built and now it’s time to hone it all in.