Friday, April 18, 2014

#20 - Ironman Arizona - Part 1: Road Trippin' With My Mom


As the air SoCal air started to cool from late Summer to Fall 2010, Ironman Arizona was quickly approaching and I thought up an opportunity for some amazing mother daughter bonding, “Hey mom, do you want to drive out to Tempe with me a couple of days before the race?”  Marion would not be able to miss work to drive out with me, and I wanted a partner in crime if any funny business came up.  Also, I thought it would be a wonderful chance for my mom and I to spend some uninterrupted time together, and nothing spells out QT than a road trip in the desert.   

My mother has four children, and had to schlep us all over the planet to zillions of practices, games, meets, cheerleading competitions, etc., for the better part of her adult life, so I figured why not one more sporting event where she could just relax and come along for the ride.  Thankfully, she said, “yes,” yay!
 

My mom is the most beautiful woman I know.  Marion is very excited about his future, because lucky for both of us, I look a lot like her.  However, there is much more to my mother than her gorgeous exterior, she is brilliant, hard-working, and an eternal optimist.  More importantly, she has been a tremendous role model to both me and Mary, because after my parent’s divorce she went back to college, while raising four children between the ages of 8-16 on her own, and became an award-winning high school English teacher.  I have to admit that I used to find it aggravating when she picked me up from Junior High hours after the bell rang because she had to work, but I was always proud of her, and grew to appreciate my after school adventures in the library.  I now completely understand the heroics it took for her to hightail it from work thirty minutes away from my school in order to pick me up, because in turn I have had MANY nail-biting moments racing up the 405 freeway from my old office in Santa Monica to pick up Hannah from Daycare in Encino during rush hour traffic, not fun.  I am one lucky girl to have had her in my corner through years of intense club soccer teams, broken basketball dreams, and the current pep infused phone call I make before every marathon, my mom is simply the best.

My mom’s house is on the way to Tempe, so it was easy for me to swing by and pick her up before we headed east for our mother/daughter adventure in the desert sun. Throughout the six-plus hour drive, my mom and I talked about current events, my brothers and sisters, and lots of triathlon Pro talk. I told her all about Hillary, naturally, as well as the greatest triathlete of all time, Chrissie Wellington.  Chrissie had won the Ironman World Championships in Kona from 2007 – 2009, however she had to bow out on race morning in 2010 because she was incredibly sick, but vowed to make her come back at Arizona, which meant we would be on the course together!  The following morning when I was in line for packet pick up, my mom was standing just a few feet away under a tree, when a sinewy, tan and ripped arm slid in front of me and said to the volunteers, “Can I check in quickly, I have to hurry on to the pro panel.” I turned toward my mom, my eyes bugging out of my head, heart pounding through my small-chested chest, and mouthed, “That’s Chrissie.” She laughed, understanding right away what a HUGE moment that was for me, and told me later in her classic, adorably sentimental voice that seeing Chrissie was a sign of exciting things ahead for my race. 

I could never convey to my mom how special those two days and nights were for me to spend with her, just the two of us, in Tempe, AZ before the most significant race of my life.  I had not only physically prepared for this Ironman, but I had invested time, energy, money, mental and emotional fortitude in pursuit of this singular goal, and to have my mom there with me gave me breath in my lungs to enjoy it all. 
 

 

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

#19 - Titanica on a Bicycle


On the night of November 22nd, 2009 I walked out of our office toward the living room and plopped down on our gold crushed velvet chair my step dad lent me years before to help furnish my second “real world” apartment, and said matter-of-factly to Marion, “I need to race Arizona.” I had spent the better part of my Sunday staring at our computer watching the live coverage of Ironman Arizona, cheering for my favorite pros, and stalking my competition in my age group.  I realized the top girl’s were not entirely out of my reach, and if properly trained and tuned up, I could make a strong go of it the following year and nab a Kona spot. The following morning, I was at my computer a few minutes before 11AM PST, my hand hovering deftly above my mouse ready to pounce when the lines went live at Ironman.com and I was able to register for my race with destiny exactly 364 days away.  

Next, I made some key decisions to help give me the best chance possible to be fit and ready by November. I hired a triathlon coach, Super Stud Ultraman World Champion, Hillary Biscay, and was scouring Craig’s list for deals on a Triathlon Bike, my roadie with clip on aerobar days were over, I was ready to walk the walk with the big kids. 

Hillary started me off with a track interval work out on January 1st, which was awesome, I felt like I was in high school again, that said, I did the work out wrong, oops. I gave myself too much rest in between 400m repeats, a rookie mistake I would never make again under Hillary’s watch.  She wanted to boost my marathon speed a bit, so I raced a few half marathons during the first part of the year, a half Ironman, and an Olympic distance triathlon with my lil’ brother Bo, and his friend Justin, which was a definite highlight of my year, not my performance mind you, but the special time spent with Bo was priceless.

I had two Ironman triathlons slated for my year, so you may be asking, “Okay, we know about Arizona, but what else did she do?” Good question, who can guess which race I chose?  Anyone? Okay, okay, the suspense is even making me restless, I raced in late July, in northern California, yep, Vineman.  This time around was completely different because instead of my family joining me, I raced along side my oldest friend from college, thee swimming and cycling extraordinaire, Sarah Gonzalez, and her two adorable lovey-dovey friends Erin Plante, and Matt Mattilla.  It would be their first ironman, my third, and subsequent nineteenth marathon.  We had a fun few days leading up to the race, it was great to be back in Guernesville, I felt like a bit of a local, we rented a hip house in the woods, and laughed and psyched each other up before the big day.  Once again Peter rallied up from San Francisco to spend the night, and then shuttle us to the swim start race morning, thanks Pete.


I was very excited for the swim leg of the race because I had spent MANY hours in the pool the previous seven months leading up to this point, Hillary is a swimming machine, and her carefully designed swim work outs are legendary, so I was excited to test my progress.  Guess what my swim time was? 1:14 hours!!!!  Okay, for those who did not read my previous post about my first go at Vineman, my time then was 1:14… No Change At ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!  I couldn’t believe it, but whatever, I let my wounded pride and sore arms stay behind in T1 and vowed to pedal hard throughout the 112 mile bike leg.  **A  brief side note here, I am about 85% legs, which may be my downfall as a not-so speedy swimmer, however, I love to swim, and I KNOW that Hillary’s work outs boosted my confidence and endurance in the water, but clearly I could not execute on race day. Oh well.

The bike leg was awesome, until it wasn’t.  I was pushing hard the first loop of the two loop course, passing people, and smiling, then at mile 100 tragedy struck. I was at the bottom of the biggest hill on the course, Chaulk Hill, and my bike locked as I was shifting to an easier gear prepping for the climb, and I stopped moving.  I could not shift, “what the?”  I walked up to the top of the hill where I asked a couple of spectators in cycling gear to come check out my bike to see if it was ride-able, “yeah, you’re fine, you just can’t change gears.” The fury of my alter ego Titanica took over, but once I got the “Okay” from Joe Bicycle I threw my leg over my bike and was off!  Luckily, I only had about twelve miles to go, but having to push hard that entire time with no help of easier gears to rest my legs for the marathon was not ideal.  When I rolled into T2 I saw my dad and Peter cheering and smiling, and I yelled out in an inflamed temper tantrum tone, “I had a bike mechanical, and lost ten minutes!” My poor dad, he had flown up solo just to see the race, then fly home, he must have been thrilled to know my attitude was a few notches below gleeful. 
 

I cannot explain what a mental bomb I had experienced with my bike issue, it was embarrassing. I needlessly loaded a ton of pressure on my shoulders to race perfectly not only for myself, but to make Hillary proud, and to back up my ironman propaganda I was preaching to my friends all week.  Thankfully, I still had a marathon to run, and we all know how running can bring me back from the brink of self-destruction, so I threw in all my chips, and yelped pitifully running out of T2 “let’s go, T!” 

I have decided to save you all from the the gritty details of what went on during the marathon, it was not pretty. To sum up, I made more pit stops than I can count, and after crossing the finish line I literally burst into tears, not a shining moment. The upside is that I finished in 11:47, knocking off about thirty minutes from my previous year’s performance, placing 2nd in my age group, and completing my nineteenth marathon to boot.  Even better was that I had the chance to cheer on my friend’s to their first ironman finishes, and have the most fun post-race day lounge fest ever at our swanky house that following Sunday. Obviously I did not have that much to be upset about, but a whole lot to learn from. Ironman Arizona was still four months out.