The Greatest Danger

I was not happy with this blog for awhile.  In fact, I have four more started that stemmed from my ramblings in the below and yet it is still so long (really, really long).  It's a good read though :)   

About a year ago Stacy Martinez posted a quote on Facebook.  Now, I do admit I am a sucker for quotes and there are some very inspirational quotes out there.  Every once in awhile I’ll post one, but I’m not a quote addict and as motivating as they are, in this great age of Social Media, they can be overdone.  There is also the great advice of Abraham Lincoln.

Stacy posted a quote by Michelangelo, “The greatest danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but that it is too low and we reach it.”  WHO DOESN’T LOVE THIS????????  It is so true! 

Something clicked for me when I read that quote.  I fell in love with it.  I read it over and over.  I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE IT!!!  I subsequently found a custom jeweler and had a leather bracelet made for myself and for Stacy.  I wear that bracelet every day and she wears it every time she races.  Reading that quote was a breaking point for me and every morning when I get up and put on my bracelet, I read it.  That’s a lie, I have it memorized now, so I just say it.

We are programmed at a young age that failure is bad and that not achieving the goal we set out to concur is failure.  Another great quote (caveat, do not really take this seriously), “If you ain't first, you’re last” (Reese Bobby).  What do we spend most of our lives doing?  Trying not to fail.  Many times we don’t focus on trying to succeed because of the fear of failure.  Our focus ends up being NOT failing. 

We are taught to set goals for ourselves that are measurable and attainable.  But how do we know what is attainable, what is truly within our reach?  How do we know how far we can push ourselves and how much our body truly has to give?  We set those goals off of what we know our body can achieve from past occurrences.  Then we add just a bit and that becomes our new goal.

 If you are reading this and you’re an endurance athlete, you know what I’m talking about.  If you’ve ever been a spectator at an endurance event, you know what I’m talking about.  You’ve been there.  You’ve experienced it or you’ve witnessed it and afterwards you’ve asked “how did I/they do that?”   

I got my start in this new universe of endurance athletics because a college roommate of mine, Susie Sanderson, talked me into training for a marathon.  We were chatting on the phone (she was living in Virginia and I in Texas) and she said “let’s train for a marathon and then meet up somewhere to run it!”  My response, “Sure!  That sounds so great!!!”  After I hung up the phone I realized I hated running.  The longest run I had ever done was during high school as punishment for our soccer team...I don’t remember how far we ran (or even what we had done wrong), but it.was.soooooo.far.  Thank you Paul Rogers and Jason Hill for that.  So I started my training.  How in the heck was I going to run 26.2 miles???  I had never done anything close to this.  After a bit I worked my way up to 5 miles and at that point I figured there was no turning back…Don’t ask me why this mental break through came at the 5 mile mark.

A few years ago, I set a huge goal for myself.  I wanted to qualify for the Boston Marathon.  This meant I had to knock 24 minutes off of my Personal Record (PR).  My best marathon time had been 4:04.  I had to run a 3:40 (or under) to qualify for Boston.  I was told, by someone, whose opinion in running I highly valued, that I couldn’t do it (not in those exact words, but there was no confidence any time I spoke with them).  I went ahead and set that goal for myself anyway.  Not only did I set that goal, I verbally told people about it.  I was scared to death.  What if I didn’t do it?  What if I reached high and missed?  It would be so much easier to just have a goal of running under 4 hours.  That only meant taking 5 minutes off my time.  That was much more doable, right? 

Rock 'n Roll San Antonio (2009)

I ran my heart out that marathon and successfully completed it thanks to Carlo Capua who ran me in the last 4 or so miles, and kept running with me, even when I stopped acknowledging he was there, even after he said he was going to let me run the rest of the way in on my own.  I think he told me this four times, but stayed by my side because he knew I just needed someone there. 
I missed Boston.  I missed Boston by 4 seconds.  Yes, you read that right, 4 seconds.  If you just teared up there it is ok, I tear up every time I think about it.  They say golf is a game of inches and I say Boston is a game of seconds.  4 seconds to me.  Everyone I trained with knew what my goal was and when they heard I didn’t make it they were upset for me.  They told me to petition my time, after all I was so close.  I appreciate their support and I feel the same way for each of them when they don’t quite achieve their goals.  But I wanted to earn Boston and I flat out didn’t.  I was close, but a lot of people are close.  Boston is elusive.  Boston, in my mind, must be earned, fair and square.  You know what I did that race though?  That no one, but me, focused on?  I PRd by a ton.  I knocked 23 minutes off of my previous best time.  23 minutes!!!   That is huge.  That day, in San Antonio, I failed at achieving my goal.  I aimed high and I missed it.  But, I will go back and will take my 4 seconds back.  And I will earn Boston.  


Fast forward two years and a new friend posted a quote by Michelangelo.  A quote that allowed me to believe that I could qualify for the 70.3 World Championships, even when I was told by someone close to me that I didn’t deserve it.  I am sensing some sort of pattern here.  This person later told me they thought this would motivate me, but two weeks before my qualifying race nothing more training-wise could be done.  If I didn’t deserve it at that point, nothing I could do in two weeks would allow me to deserve it.  I am, apparently, not good at listening to people sometimes.  This was one of those times.  Their comment frustrated me, it royally pissed me off.  I had been working damn hard to be where I was.  So I let it go.

Repeating Michelangelo’s quote during Branson 70.3 is what made me jump off my bike and run it in the last mile to T2.  I had a flat, it wasn’t just a random decision I made and thanks to Chris Wright there is a pretty hilarious video of me pitter-pattering my way into T2 in wet socks, which are forever stained.  I have failed at achieving my goals before (oops, did I just admit that…) and I’m still around.  If I didn’t push myself past those measurable and attainable goals, those goals that are a bit beyond what we HAVE done, but just far enough past that to be considered a new goal, a new accomplishment, how would I know what I could really do? 

My confidence collapsed when I flatted, my heart dropped.  I literally had a sinking feeling, Worlds was gone.  But I couldn’t let a little deflated air get in the way of a dream.  Two seconds later my shoes were off and I was flying at the speed of light (might be a slight over exaggeration here, but there was A LOT of adrenaline at this point) with my bike towards T2.  I was choking back tears, I still thought my chance at qualifying was gone.  The kindness of my training buddy Jack Ogle who turned around (yes, turned around and came back) on the bike course, at one of the toughest bike-legs of a triathlon I have ever done, lifted my spirits, got me to T2 and off on the run. 

The suspense at roll down was nearly as hard on my heart as the 70.3 miles I had completed earlier in the day had been on my body.  Heather stayed with me as they begin calling names in my age group.  There were two slots, 1^st and 2^nd place had not accepted them.  I placed 7^th.  That meant at least three of the next four people had to decline.  When they called my name I jumped up, like I little kid (reference my previous blog about Christmas…it was somewhat similar to this).  I can’t remember the last time I was excited like that.  I had qualified for WORLDS!

All this rambling really just leads to one point.  Go for it.  You may (ok “may” is being nice), the odds are in your favor that if you go for it, you will fail on your way to succeeding.  But is it truly failure?  Or have you just not quite reached success yet?  The “failures” will hurt, they may hurt bad.  But they will build you up and when you achieve your goal, and you will with hard work, the emotions will far trump anything you have ever felt when you didn’t quite make it. 

 I have a blue sticky note stuck to my bathroom mirror. It has four things written on it in pink Sharpee (the color of the sticky note and marker are totally irrelevant): 

Earn Worlds ~ Nationals ~ Boston ~ Kona

Remember that the greatest danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but that it is too low and we reach it.  Aim high kids.  The rewards are far beyond anything that can be described in words.  

Swim Start Area at Kona...someday :)

An Iron Christmas

I used to love that feeling you got as a little kid on Christmas morning.  We don’t get it much anymore as adults.  The excitement and the anticipation.  The pure joy of the new shiny thing that you’ve asked Santa to bring you, that you’ve wanted for months.  It may be because, as adults, we are now paying for that new shiny thing and we know how much hard work goes into acquiring it and as we get older our new shiny wishes tend to cost more and more, but I digress.

My family always went up to Truckee (just outside of Tahoe) for Christmas and my cousin and I would wake up early and go upstairs to see what Santa had brought us.  A lot of mornings it would still be dark outside and I remember the upstairs just glowing from the lights and the tinsel on the tree.  It looked like one of those cheesy 80’s profile portraits that was all faded and glimmery, but in my mind was beautiful.  We’d walk around the Christmas tree looking at tags, seeing what was for each of us.  The intricate and creative wrapping would intrigue us and sometimes we’d beg to open one gift before breakfast.  We would get so giddy and excited.  And the anticipation for the entire week leading up to Christmas, oh my, there are no words.

Last Friday I got giddy and excited and I felt like I had when I was a kid on Christmas morning and the week or so leading up to it.  I had met a woman at the USA Triathlon Coaching Certification class who had done Ironman UK.  For a few months now I’ve been trying to pick my 2013 Ironman event.  I was focused on Ironman Lake Placid, but a group of my Trident buddies were headed back to Ironman Coeur d’Alene.  I wanted to do a new course, but I knew training without the support of the CdA 12 would be a whole different experience.  And quite honestly, I wasn’t ready to do another Ironman without them.  CdA was my first Ironman and it was amazing.  I didn’t break in land speed records, but I finished with a smile and so proud of what I’d achieved, what we’d all achieved.

I have never run a marathon with a group of people and seen them all smiling at the finish line.  There are always “bite me” moments and sheer glares of death, where you say something to someone who is at the “bite me” stage and you feel like you must evade their stare or you may never speak again, EVER…that didn’t happen in CdA.  Everyone was so supportive of each other and just happy the whole day.  I honestly can’t even put into words how amazing my entire training experience and my Ironday was.  I wanted another one of those days, but nothing had truly struck me yet like the anticipation of doing CdA had.

I’d been looking at doing Lake Placid and then got Ironman UK on my mind.  The English countryside is absolutely gorgeous and yes, the scenery is a top priority in my Ironman picks.  If I’m going to be out there doing something for as long as it takes me to do and Ironman, it damn well better be fricken gorgeous. 

On the morning of June 15, 2012 (note, that I’m adding some suspense in here) I texted my training buddy Jack Ogle and said, “I want to do IM England at some point”.  This statement was ignored.  Four hours later I got a text back from Jack.  It simply said “Tahoe!”  To which I replied.  “WHAT?  Are they doing one???”  And the saga begins…

I nearly yanked Carlo’s arm off, who was sitting next to me at the time, and later said he’d never seen me so excited for anything, EVER.  I don’t know how many text messages were exchanged within the next few hours, but that feeling came back.  I got so excited.  THIS was the next Ironman for me.  I texted Steve “Papi” Holstein, who was by far my biggest mental asset at IM CdA.  Our text conversation went as follows:

-          Me (2:51PM):  IM in Tahoe!!!
-          Papi (2:52PM):   Sweet!  We’re at Disney World
-          (UGH) I will let you all chuckle for a minute here and recover before I continue with our texts.
-          Papi (2:52PM):  I saw there is going to be a full IM in Tahoe!
-          Me (2:53PM): That is what I just told you!!!

I do admit that my initial text was not clear.

Ironman Lake Tahoe was announced on a Friday afternoon.  Registration began the following Monday afternoon.  It was all any of us were talking about all weekend.  Every time I saw someone who was planning to sign up I’d just yell “TAHOE!”  As Ironman is becoming more popular, events are selling out much faster.  Many of us anticipated an immediate sell out of Tahoe.  So I set a reminder on  my phone to alert me a few minutes before  registration was opening and I checked the site 27 times throughout the morning until the registration link was up (not live yet, just VISIBLE). 

Monday I began getting texts from people.  A select few are below…

-          “Is it time yet???”
-          “I’m so nervous.  How much is it?”
-          “I’m tired of waiting!!”
-          “I need to have my husband have our baby!” (yes, those plans were put on hold for IM Lake Tahoe)
-           “I had a dream that I was going to Active.com on the computer to get things ready for sign up and all of the keys had been pulled of my computer!!!”

As the clock approached 2PM Central…
-          “U ready??”
-          “Now!”
-          “GO, GO, GO!”

And after registration opened, the texts continued to flow…

-          “I’m In!!!” (there were A LOT of those)
-          “That puppy is pricy”
-          “$708.75!”  (My response, “we are stupid”) And yes, for those of you that are wondering, that is how much we paid
-          “Wowza!!”
-          “This is your fault you know” (Don’t worry, they’ll thank me later)
-          “Wow, who did not sign up for Tahoe?  I want to be a Sherpa”
-          “Looks like I’ll be purchasing a gas mask in the near future” (We’re gonna have to figure out the whole altitude training)

So, to the 25+ (for those of you who haven’t plastered Facebook with this new feat you are going to tackle), here is to over a year of hard work, surprises, fits, excitements, frustrations, joy, laughs, and stories.  Steve, Jack, Tamara, Heather, Chuck, Troy, Christa, Will, Etter, Jason, Michael, Kulka, Jen, Angela, Kelly, Misty, Myrna, Brian, Alison, Missy, Russell, Kimberly, Cathy, and Rich - I am so excited to share my second Ironday with such amazing people and can’t wait for Christmas next year, which for many of us, will fall on September 22^nd.

Learning to be “that guy”

You’d think at some point in our adult lives we’d learn to get over the “coolness” factor and focus on our essential needs.  You’d think that.  However, in this great sport of triathlon, so much focus is placed on “looking good” that sometimes we lose the need over the want.  I hear people say it all the time, “I can either be good or look good” and they make it soooooo easy to look good, don’t they? 

I do it.  I won’t lie to you and tell you I’m above it.  I turned down a great pair of cycle shoes because they had blue on them and they didn’t match my kit (those shiny, spandex outfits we wear when we’re training and racing) that is red, black and white and my red, black and white bike and bike seat that is red and white and my red and white helmet…you get it.

A few weeks ago I was enjoying my Thursday afternoon ride when I passed a guy wearing an aero helmet.  What.A.Dork.  Really???  On a training ride?  Who is he trying to beat?  Why is he trying to shave seconds off his training ride?  He had 12oz and probably $200+ of aerodynamic greatness on his head…for his training ride.  Why?



Turns out, I am now contemplating purchasing an aero helmet (said helmet pictured above).  I have finally chosen the helmet and now I just have to pick the color.  Black or white?  They both match my kit (bonus!) and one reflects heat, while the other absorbs it…and I sweat A LOT.  I sweat so much that when my nutritionist, Eve Pearson, did my initial Sweat Loss Rate test she recalculated her original findings because she thought she calculated them incorrectly.  Nope, she was right on down to the ounce.  I need to replace 56 ounces of fluid an hour when I run and 48 ounces when I ride.  Do you even drink 56 ounces of water in a day? 

Here is my dilemma.  I am looking to spend a good deal of $$$ on something that weighs 12oz, which is oh so light when you put it on, and I have to decide if I want to buy the white one or the black one, remembering that they both match my kit (fantastic!). 

So, yesterday...Yesterday, I was “that guy”.  Thanks to Jack Ogle, I borrowed his black aero helmet and wore it on my TRAINING RIDE and I laughed as I passed the same area where I saw my “dorky” aero helmet guy a few weeks ago.  It became clear.  Dorky aero helmet guy was probably training smart.  It all goes back to what I always tell my athletes, never do anything new on race day and train for race day.  Never doing anything new on race day, means you will have to be “that guy”.  Figuring out what nutrition you need means that you will be “that guy”.  Knowing how much you need to drink, means you will have to be “that guy”.  Figuring out what you're going to wear, yup, means you'll have to be "that guy". 

Trying to take a dorky self shot of the aero helmet

I am about to say some things that will shock my triathlete friends.  So sit down and take it, because I have learned that being “that guy” will save your butt on race day.  You have to train smart to race smart and all this smartness sometimes comes with deflated coolness.

1)      I have worn a camel back on a long bike ride (gasp…now get off the floor and sit back down on your exercise ball chair)
2)      I have worn a race belt with 10 Gu on a century ride (eek!  No, I am not a confused runner/cyclist) I just didn't have a bento box (something for snacks, not what you get at your local sushi restaurant) or electrical tape to carry that much Gu on my bike

This is half the amount of Gu I had on my century ride...HALF

3)      …there was a third thing I was going to shock you with, but I’ve forgotten it

I’ll get into stories about the Gu race belt incident at some point, because I was made so much fun of for wearing it…yet somehow I’m the only one who survived that ride without throwing up, an IV or getting my core temperature taken (and not in the pleasant end).

 Today’s bike ride bonus?  Seeing my first ever real live (yes, live is important), in the wild, armadillo!!!  And of course my usual Benbrook sighting, Eugene Mazzurana and his pup, it’s never a true Benbrook ride without seeing Eugene out there.