Sláinte

i never write disclaimers or apologize - but here's possibly the one time that i am going to do just that. the story i'm gonna share with you is kinda disturbing especially if you're sensitive to violence like i am. so if you want to just ignore the first part and skip to the moral of this little tale go to the bottom.

and one other thing, don't you dare, ever, for a second think i'm a victim of anything or use that label for me. or even survivor. we all have crap to get through and deal with. here's one example. millions of people have had worse and will have. that's not why i'm telling you this story.

Why i'm telling you this story is beyond me really. i think its time to share. as i said to someone close to me, i don't think i've told this story more than 6 times ever. i know the story has been passed on but i rarely open up and share in my own words. partly for the reasons i state above. i don't need your sympathy.

so here it is

exactly 15 years ago on november 6, i was carjacked and kidnapped. my then boyfriend, now husband was with me.

how it began

we were volunteering in tanzania. seriously- who'd pass the opportunity to go live (really like in tents) with one of the last real group of hunters & gatherers in the rift valley. ahhh yeah- sign us up!

 we were naive and wanted to go out and save the world. the pragmatic side was it was a recession and fresh after our grad work we wanted raw real experience and wanted to see the world.

i'd grown up thinking about tanzania and hearing swahili (my father was born there). my husband spent a part of his childhood in east africa as well. there was a tie. and being hopelessly romantic and idealistic we wanted to make a difference, and have great stories to tell. (and we have lots.)

we had so many grand plans to see some great game parks and we always deferred them because we were waiting for a better time, someone to visit, etc. we were never able to make those plans a reality.

how we got jacked.

driving along the only paved road that spanned the country we were prime pickings. close to the kenyan border. rwanda has just unleashed hell that summer and no one was eating the tilapia from victoria lake...turmoil was in the air.

we had a sassy new pickup and had shiny appliances we were going to deliver to some friends along the way to dar, the capital. it was just a 20 hour drive we broke into 2 sections. i had just opened a letter from my best friend and she'd sent a tape with the new REM album on it. gorgeous sunny cloudless day and we're listening to some great music.

all of a sudden i look over and see 6 or 7 AK47's pointed at us. omg. i screamed. my husband was driving. he didn't know what to do. they motioned us to pull over - we had no choice -those guns were fucking huge. we pulled over and 2 of them got in either side of us with the guns at our heads. the other 3 got in the back and the other dude drove their car.

we went to a clearing and they made us get out and put our hands on our heads and lie on the ground belly down. guns to our heads. we were told to hand over our money, passports, (we even had airline tix for spain at xmas w us), i had a ring they wanted. they joked about if i didn't shut up they'd find a way to make it happen. then they gave us some foamy yellow drink. first my husband and then me. i tried to drink less but they forced it down.

i woke up in a hospital three days later and saw my husband in the bed beside me. without thinking i crawled into his bed. the nurse freaked out on me. fucking puritanical bitch- like i could possibly want anything more than to know that my husband was alive if i was. we were both on IV. as it was, we recovered and they released us to an retired Irish couple who lived in the middle of nowhere and taught English. we were nursed back to health there.

i have no idea what happened to us in the three days that are gone from my memory. i can't remember even the few days we were at the irish people's home though i remember that they were kind beyond belief. i remember the rope burns on my ankles and my wrists.

we were told that we'd been dumped into some bushes and local farmers had found us on November 8 and brought us to the hospital in their cart. such random kindness.on November 9 we woke up and were able to tell the irish couple who we were. we hadn't been able to remember at first i guess. our volunteer org was contacted. my husband's parents were finally informed (they hadn't known). my parents still don't know. hadn't talked to my dad in years and sure wasn't going to let work ppl tell my mom. she'd had enough to deal with.

essentially it was hushed up fast. we were interviewed by some people in our consulate and put in KLM business class to be returned home.

so, that's it. november is a miserable dreary month. it's grey and its depressing. for me i celebrate this week because for some reason i'm lucky enough to still be around.

some people recently asked me to wait to run Boston til 2011. no way. i'm taking what i've been given and living in the here and now. and though i may be moody or goofy, i have no reason in the world to complain. i have only one life but i'm making it a great adventure - i still want great stories to tell. i need my big moments, my passion and living my dreams the best way i know how. and so for now, i don't do as many crazy ass adventures but i think that being able to run Boston would be a great big story to tell someday. i want to have a life that is worth telling stories about - good and bad. its the only way. and i'm packing it all in there. every last bit with every last breath i have. there will never be a better time than now.

well, i think its time for a drink now, isn't it? Sláinte. (gaelic for good health btw)

Wet Dream

wet dreams. impossible adolescent fantasies tinged in soft light and intense yet diffuse desire. well baby my first marathon was a wet dream come true on a virgin mission. imagine the chances.

yesterday on my first marathon, i hit all three of my goals:
1. realistic: finished strong, 2. stretch: time was under 4 hours 3: dream: qualified for Boston (by the skin of my teeth).

yup, it was a hat-trick Orgasm - bang, bang, bang. it was a beautiful day.

numbers

time: 3:49:41
splits: Half: 1:54:31 2nd Half: 1:56;04 and at 30k (18 mi): 2:42:41
place: 20 in AG
# of finishers: 1899 - 33% women, 67% male
finished ahead of 54% of men
avg pace: 5:26 min/km or 8:46 min/mi
from 30k (18 mi) to finish -i passed 167 runners, was passed by 14 runners

prep
-lots of rest in the week before
-8 wks of alternating Active Release Therapy and sports massage - preventive
-one 4 mi run on wednesday to keep loose
-only 1 cup coffee daily for 2 wks before
-no alcohol for 4 wks before
-carb load dinner the night before (complex carbs day 2&3 before) - plain boring tasteless pasta near the hotel & chips later
-8 hours of fairly good sleep
-oatmeal 30 min before race start time


nutrition plan
-gel at start & every 45 minutes w/o second guessing
-alternating sip of water or gatorade at every rest stop- no skipping a station no stopping

clothing
-shorts that i've worn a million times
-bra that's never given me chafing issues - shock absorber - victoria secret from about 4 yrs ago
-new long sleeve shirt - very loose - soft seams
-gloves - same as always- nothing special
-socks- same as always-no seams and lucky gift
-gel carrier- new -bit of a risk but twitter expert advice was bang on with good brand suggestion

day
crisp clear blue skies, temp was 1C/38F. i couldn't have asked for more. mind you, waiting in the corral was chilly. it was about an hour into the run before i felt all of my toes or fingers. i wouldn't have changed a thing.

pace plan

stick to running by heart rate - keep it below the lactate threshold (169) for as long as possible to 32 k (20 mi) mark and then add on what was left. don't look at pace too obsessively. do not walk even at aid stations - keep moving always.

course & race day strategy
Part 1: control - do not put the throttle down & speed up - warm up - keep heart rate low
downhill for first 13.1 mi/21 k - one uphill at 4k but aside from that - windy through posh neighbourhoods, leafy ravines and very diverse

Part 2: discipline: keep pace consistent on the flats & keep fueling - fight monotony
lakeshore - along the shore of Lake Ontario from 13.1 mi with a turnaround at 18 mi and then back along same route - to 22 mi - flattish - mild decline out and mild incline back - way back- monotonous

Part 3: focus - get it done - think strong, keep going, do NOT give in
22 mi to 26.2 mi - straight gradual incline up through downtown office buildings to parliament buildings.

Mindset: mixed
some said have fun-its your first one- enjoy it. its the journey not the destination.

training partner said - 13.1 is half of nothing. pain is temporary-achievement is forever. fight.fight.fight.its in you.

i wasn't sure which way i'd go. was going to wait and see what happened. was gonna follow my race strategy.

A wrench in the works
A strategy like mine was good if I was able to use a Garmin. My garmin had kacked out 2 wks earlier (battery not taking charge) so i borrowed a friends garmin forerunner 305. exactly like mine. trouble was that i forgot to change its settings to HeartRate, Distance Ran, avg pace and current pace. i couldn't get it to turn on.

so all my plans of running to heart rate or to pace had to be put aside. i had to run by perceived exertion. i'd know my pace at any given stride but had no ongoing tracking of my pace to guide me. i ran every step of this race by feel. and i did not waver.

How'd it go?
exactly to plan. no surprises. no variance. i drank what i said i would when i said i would. i ate my gels on time. i held back, i controlled, disciplined myself and focussed. the splits are exactly what i would have wanted and i can't believe how steady i was. i even had a pit stop at mile 7.

my husband joined me at mile 24 and ran beside me. he was distracting me at one point i was so intensely focussed that i told him to shut up (i apologized right after).

Kill that fucking bunny
i saw the 3:50 pace bunny in the corral. he was going to do the run for 10k (6 mi) plan and walk for a min. all through the race, he'd pop up in front me trailing his pack and then they'd walk and i'd pass them. at one point near 30 k (18 mi) i was hoping that they'd just pass me and i could give up that goal and i could relax.

he didn't pass me til mile 25. at that point he blew by me. and i thought, damn, i've lost it. ok, its alright i'll have lost boston by a minute but i'll have met my other two goals. but honestly, there are times when i wanted to catch and eat that bunny for breakfast and stop it from being a constant goal reminder.

but maybe that's why i was so dead consistent. in the end, he was a little faster than he should have been and i made the BQ.

The wall
i had a lot of worry about hitting the wall. i hit it after my first 2 k at my half marathon last fall. i know the awful feeling of your body rebelling. hitting the wall was a constant fear throughout this run. But, i never hit it.

From 37 k (22 mi) to 41 k (25mi) i struggled mentally. i saw people walking and i wanted to walk. just to stop. i was tired. my legs weren't cramping but i was climbing a hill the whole way to the end and i was looking for a rest. in the end, my impatience saved the day (who knew,eh?). also at 40 k mark, i saw someone holding a sign saying think positive thoughts to get you through. i nodded at the lady and kicked it back into gear. battle was on again to the finish line.

The finish
I was baffled at the finish. thought the clock was wrong. but. wait, the 3:50 pace bunny had passed me about 1:30 minutes ago....well, that damn bunny wabbit was a bit too fast. i squeaked into qualifying for boston by the thinnest of margins. you'd think i'd planned the best outcome with the most efficient use of energy but i did nothing but listen to my body and just hold on.

dance fucker dance
in the massage tent, someone pinged me to tell me my official time. yep it was real. i was beaming, chatting, smiling and hooting and hollering. all around were pained expressions. wtf people? you just ran way farther than most people dream of, and you're bitter...why??? get over yourselves. if you can't celebrate these defining moments of being so viscerally alive, what will it take?

so i danced along the route cheering on finishers as i headed to my brother's a quick and bracing dip in an ice bath.

friends & thanks
my family -husband, brother and girlfriend all came out.my husband's company was invaluable and was glad to have him to run with me, support me and cheer for me. bro was waiting at the end (with ice in his tub)
family friends and their 2 kids also showed up only to see me finish (a 3 hour return trip for them with 2 small kids) just for me?! ya, they're kinda special to me too.
my parents (and i know i've said alot about my dad at times) but this time he stepped up and my parents watched our children so i could come and make my dreams happen.
virtual friends near and far - you have no idea how much your tweets, dm's and little notes encourage and motivate me. if it weren't for 2 crazy californians egging me on in june- anotorias and paul both - i would never have contemplated a marathon this year.

and now look at me...boston baby. think i could wear a tutu for that one. that's the one to have fun at - nothing i'll have to prove. who cares about time. i'm going to have a good good time.

did i have fun? nope. but at exactly3:49:42 yesterday i did. and have been having smiling ever since.

aftermath
nothing major. no blisters. no chafing. quads are sore but loose enough.minor nausea at the end of yesterday's run from about 20 mi onwards but nothing crazy. i'm wearing my InVigorators compression socks and smiling.

told you- a dreamy day.

does chrissie wellington get toe?

does deena kastor? bet you dont even think of super perky kara goucher getting toe?

toe = camel toe = moose knuckle = what happens when a chick wears her pants tighter than tight. Her crotch area becomes outlined with the seam riding up the crack, making it resemble the toe of a camel."^ Mansour, David (2005). From Abba to Zoom: A Pop Culture Encyclopedia of the Late 20th Century.

its tights season soon and since tights are tight, camel toe does become a concern - if you care. since most women i know don't wear underwear and tights, i suppose there is higher susceptibility for getting toe. what i didn't know was that you can also get toe if you have too large tights and you reef on the drawstring and haul the waistband up so high to get them to stay on.

women are pretty self-conscious most times. it doesnt matter if they're athletic or not.even the confident women would really rather not have HDN (high def nipples) or toe.whether students, mothers, career ladies, wives, all of those and more, in spite of everything they get out there and run. i don't even know if dudes worry about too tight spandex pants that showcase their tackle. i don't look. why would i?

most women i know want to be known for their running achievements not their bodies, nipples or toes. usually guys you run with get that and don't really stare, gawk or make you feel wierd. it's a comfort level that you get when you run with a bunch of people for awhile. you help each other get through slumps, push a little more, back off when you train too hard you don't make others feel self-conscious for their body- any part of it.

i find its the fellas i encounter in the stretch room after i've run who tend to outright stare or just plunk themselves down a foot away and sneak long looks. it's those lazy fucks who are loafing about in the stretch room that make me feel wierd.

but in the end, i don't care. they'll never catch me.

as for whether chrissie, deena or kara get camel toe - who the fuck cares.

first trail race - 25K - longest race distance

another milestone this year. my first 25K trail race. it was fantastic. ran it tired because it was my last long run before the year's main event - my first marathon - Toronto Marathon on October 18.

highs
the company. i began the race with my husband, a great friend Jan and a twitter friend, Patrick Avis who had travelled all the way from London, England to run this race with us. this was the farthest distance my husband has ever run. For Jan, he's trained with me and often kept me company on my runs but it was his farthest race as it was for me. For patrick, first trail race i believe and certainly his first in north america. he too was a bit tired from having run the Berlin marathon only two weeks earlier.so milestones all around!

the race itself
so many great enthusiastic volunteers. super atmosphere with highland pipers, fusiliers, lots of hot fresh coffee, covered gourmet food stations and artisan quality award medallions. instead of race tshirts, we received backpacks and the best race kit with hammer gels that i've ever received. great vendors with fun draws and lots of gear in the expo. peggy and george - the race directors are tremendous.

lows
can't really think of any so why bother. it was just a great day.

the course
a crazy loopy 12.5 km course that is done 2x by the sane (25k) and 4x (50K) by the insane. it had so much diversity that if you didn't like the grassy squishy meadowy part (like me) then it was over fast. the uphills were intense but not that long. the down hills were incredible. wish i could gone faster but there were you know, people in the way though i'd shout on your left! i ran almost every down hill with my arms in the air and sometimes screaming. i cannot tell you how exhilarating it is. i want to fly.

on the uphills, i pretended i was on my bike riding the forward momentum half way up the hill in front - and sometimes thinking like that worked and shrunk the incline.

i fell in love with the two volunteer ladies who counted me up the big mutha hill at the 23.5 km mark. they had clappers and chanted 1234 to literally pull me up with their cheering. i offered to kiss them at the end but i was sorta sweaty & sloppy so they graciously declined.

people i met
i talked to alot of people at this race. since it was a B race for me, i wasn't as anxious. also the atmosphere was different than in a road race. not as formal. i found the racers way more relaxed as well. many of them are mountain bikers. i'm not sure if this is true or not but it seems as though trail runners are generally more congenial, sharing kinda folks whereas the road runners i know are exceptionally intense at races. i don't know. sample trail race of one.

so i talked to various people as we went along. one lady and i had an interesting discussion about what we'd do if it got hot and steamy (rain had given way to sunshine for about 10 minutes). she was going to run in her bra but hide her 2 pack and abs skin with her tied up shirt. i told her she had more courage than i did. and then of course, we talked about bras.

i paced this couple for awhile and then they overtook me on the big hill. when i passed them they asked me where i'd been since i paced them so strongly all the way. i just swore fuck at the time and said the bloody hill did me in but i was good again and if they wanted a pacer, lets go. so off i went. i led a hot fast sprint to the finish.

of course meeting Patrick Avis was a total highlight and pretty much eclipsed meeting anyone else. seriously, how cool is flying to canada to run a trail race because you CAN. inspirational fo sho. [and so easy to be around - he sat at our kitchen table later while we made dinner - like he'd been hanging out with us for years]

the finish
when i crossed i had my arms up, i hooted hollered and jumped jubilant over that line. felt like i could run my marathon now. (that didn't last so long - wish it had). some guy gave me a hug while someone else took off my chip. 2 other ladies told me a finish like that was surely inspiring and the best they had seen. yep, i'm pretty damn happy when i'm like that.

numbers folks - i finished in 2:31 on tired, nearly overtrained legs. glad i held back. the quads are still killing me 2 days later.

denouement

and so, that's it. i'm tapering now. less than 2 wks to go. when i finished that race i felt like i could fly, like i could run this marathon. already that feeling has eroded. what i'm talking about now is where the biggest challenge of the marathon will happen - my own silly head. lord love a duck, its gonna be interesting to see what i do.

gifts

this week i've been lost deep in my thoughts. some say that's not a good thing for me. sometimes it's too dark in my head and i need the company of others to pull me into the sunshine. but i think sometimes i rush around so much just so i don't have to think. i keep moving because standing still might mean taking account of things. and maybe i don't want to face that. here's some of what's been on my mind.

i received a gift this week. came out of nowhere. earlier this summer, i had learned that my friend with the bone cancer had once done a few triathlons. this week, she sent a parcel and a thank you card. the thank you was for spending some time with her and the family at the cottage. the gift was her wetsuit. she'll never do another triathlon but knew i'm going down that road now. my reaction was maybe strange.

i haven't touched the suit. as soon as i realized what it was, i didn't even pull it out. it's still in the box. i'm so overwhelmed by what it represents and i worry that i can't live up to living out her dreams too. its so much. someday i want to pull it out, try it on and begin to train for a triathlon. i feel like if i don't do as well as i can, try as hard as i can, i'll be letting her down.

this week i also spent an afternoon with my former ceo. the world's sexiest man. he told me he had stomach cancer 3 months ago. we've spoken a few times but he was hesitant to accept seeing me. didn't want me to see him without hair and barely 130 pounds. i needed a reference for a new job i'd applied for and called him to see if he'd be willing. he was not only willing but insisted. he actually took the reference call from my new boss while in the hospital recovering from a massive chemo load.

when i saw him this week it was to say thank you although i can never thank him for everything he has done. he's always believed in me, stood up for me, and if it were up to him, i'd be his right hand person to this day. life came between us and i had to move away. and then things moved on as they do. i brought him a bottle of scotch and we and had a drink in the middle of the sunny afternoon toasted our future. we reminisced and shared a little bit about ourselves again. we grabbed a coffee later and said our good byes. i'm still so moved by his generosity that i have no choice but do my best at my new work. anything else and all his trouble would go unappreciated. i hope i can live up to his expectations of me.

i rarely ask for gifts because to me they come with hopes and expectations and i take those pretty seriously. generosity is rare. its not just the gift, its the care, the concern and the consideration of someone taking time to find something to add another dimension of care in my life.

someone sent me 30 pairs of running socks in february. i wear those socks on every single run (except for the ones where i was wearing the compression socks i'd also been sent to try out as i recovered from my calf strain). if i don't wear them, i'd be dishonouring the effort and the care that someone took some time to show me and to honour my passion about both socks and running. and i wear them feeling blessed for a friendship. tomorrow's socks are already out with my gear - canary yellow.

before every race this year except for one, a friend would send a note to me saying to get #1, to win, to go all out and i did. i'd hear those words every time again and again and if i was flagging they'd come to mind right away to carry me further, faster. how do i ever pay that gift back?

on twitter, i have connected with a vast, diverse network of extraordinary runners from everywhere. they send notes out all the time. they see what i've run, what i've trained, and they continue to encourage me with their responses to me. they share their achievements and in that, i try to share mine back to keep the momentum of inspiration always going. its unlike anything i've ever found anywhere.

i'm so private in my real life because i have no place to be myself and to express myself openly. it's why i began this blog. and now i continue to write because i have found that the comments, emotions and stories that runners and athletes share connect me to them and i have a place to be accepted without pressure as well. i can be. i can come. i can go. i'm always welcome. that too is a tremendous gift.

i told a friend this week about the pressure i feel sometimes to do well because of what people expect of me and how sometimes it's so much. and i have to work on that. i have to work on accepting the gifts that i'm given and that i have and know that its ok if i falter because those that gave the gifts will understand and still wouldn't take anything back. its so hard for me to ask for anything, for any help because its so hard for me to handle letting someone down. i have to work on knowing that my real and true friends won't be let down by a single action, failing or wrong phrase. again, knowing rationally isn't the same as really knowing.

the same friend asked me if i had the same expectations of others - well i do. i consider my friends exceptional and maybe my standards are too high. but i'm ok with that and so are they it seems.

so later this week, a twitter friend (Patrick Avis)will arrive from the UK to run a 25k trail race with me. i'll do my best to make sure we have a fun race. i hope we have a great experience and both of our lives are richer for that.

in the end, the gifts, the thank yous and the honouring of those gifts is about a rich dimension of caring that brightens my day and makes me feel connected to some very phenomenally giving people. so, thank you. it's only a small phrase but it takes up a large portion of my heart.

prom queen

losers always whine about their best.winners go home & fuck the prom queen.

that expression (said in a sean connery voice) is on a radio ad and its been stuck in my head for 2 days now.

has me thinking about this marathon. it's on october 18. close enough to make me feel shaky and scared. i'm terrified i'll screw up. then i say well, no matter, i'll do my best. and then the expression comes to mind.

i have a litany of reasons that training has been interrupted. nothing special but life events that occur. so every wk i haven't been able to cross off each and every box like i did when i trained for my half marathon. doing the full mary means more time to be put in. inevitably for me, it means more times that i couldn't have a perfect score card.

yes, ok, take it easy on myself. i'll still do (cross your fingers) what 2% of the world's population have ever done. fine. but i feel the pressure mounting to not leave a single piece of energy left unspent or i'll be a fake, imposter, poser.

i can't help it. i live with that fear alot. if i don't go whole hog, i'm a loser. running is teaching me stuff as i go, but it is also humbling me with the challenges it throws at me. right now i'm dealing with recovering from a minor calf strain. and then i have a silver dollar sized blister on my left insole. i developed the 3rd mile in of a 15 mi run. i ran w it. thought it'd be gone today but it wasn't so i let it keep me company for a nearly 8 mi run/spin workout.

pain is something i'm going to have to be friends with if i'm to finish my first marathon. i was reading about the pain after Kerrie's first marathon (4:12 time btw- smokin hot). i've nvr had too much pain from running- it's someone else's thing,not mine. how naive. i called my brother and made sure he knows i'm coming to his place for an icebath right after my marathon. it's hard - i'm sure i'll want to take care of myself and i can't. other ppl count on me too.

but all of this pain lately, the injury, the other infections - i'm worried that i'll disappoint some ppl with some pretty high hopes of me. i'd be the most disappointed but then i'd tell myself "that's what i get for ever thinking i could do this - once a loser..."

to be honest, i know i will do my best and i don't think that's being a loser. it is more than the time i end up with - that is what i say. for anyone else i say it to, i completely believe it.

but underneath all the nice positive self-talk for your benefit, the time is going to matter to me. and i would consider everything else whining excuses.

and no, i never did go to a prom.

du random for words

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the best word i can use to describe my first duathlon, is random. a series of interconnected, unexpected events and consequences that i'd never be able to predict. let's cut to the chase shall we?

distance/target/actual & what the hell went wrong? distances: 2k (1.24mi) run/30k (18.6 mi) bike/ 7k(4.35mi)run target: 9 min/65 min/33 min = 110 min = 1:53 actual: 9:52/1:11:55/39:22 + t1 2:02 + t2 2:13 min (transitions - yes i should account for those in my target time, eh?) = 2:05:23

debrief of the fuck up
the first run went to plan. so, dear watson, you have likely deduced that i fucked up on the bike. here's why. it was an out and back course of 15k. hills not nearly as bad as those i train on - goal should have been no problem. i've ridden cujo 7 times and here i am racing on him. not confident enough but what the hell. trouble was at the turnaround.

i turned too wide, hit the soft gravel shoulder and got my left foot out to plant and was about to when i lost balance and tumbled down onto my right side. the shoulder was soft and i wasn't moving when i fell. after the gravel shoulder was a ditch covered in grasses, goldenrod, ragweed etc. when i fell over to my right hand side, i slid half way down the ditch - the bike was still attached to my right foot which i couldn't unclip with my leg twisted behind me. i did get unclipped and the foot went into a cramp. nice. i'm upside down, half way down a ditch, while racers are zipping by me. and i'm debating if i should do a back somersault out of position while my foot cramps. finally a race minder took pity on me and reached over to give me a hand up. he was killing himself laughing and i was laughing. so ridiculous - so why not laugh. the worst fear had happened and well so what. i'd forgotten my garmin that morning anyway and had no idea just how i was doing but it felt fast.

so, shaking, and now pissed off at my clumsiness, i got back on and rode hard to the end of the bike course. could feel little stings on my back, didn't care, kept on. seeing my children at the end of the bike gave me a huge boost so i just decided to run like the hell for the remaining 7 k and see if i could catch up anything.

final run-stepping up in a different way

as i ran, i saw my husband very close by up ahead of me after my first 2 km- it was strange because he's a much stronger cyclist and lately has been running strongly off of the bike. i yelled his name but he didn't stop and was kind of going slow. i couldn't figure it out. i caught up and he told me he'd bonked after the swim and wasn't sure he'd make it to the end - was having trouble breathing - chest felt tight. well, that did it. i was kinda scared but thought we could make it if we stuck together. so i stuck with him and told him it was a relief because just running together over the finish line would be awesome. yakkety yak. i kept a steady stream of babble. a few times he told me to stop getting too close to him, to be quiet a bit and to give him some space. ya, whatever, you know i didn't listen much.

with about 750 metres to go, i start to feel a catch in the back of my right calf and a twinge every time i planted my right foot. i kinda wonder what's going on, but don't really pay attention. at one point, now my husband looked at me and asks what the hell happened to my back - told him not to worry about it. i was more preoccupied with him at the time.

so we did it!!!!
crossed the line together. my superfit friend had done 100 km ride the day before and ran the race at 70% effort to come in 2nd in AG (she didn't even stay to pick up medal) and 2 other friends did their first triathlons too. All of us have lessons that we learnt and we all vow to be better - we're going the Olympic distance next summer. i will not be swimming.

height of random
i cross the line and i'm surrounded by family and friends and everyone is looking at me and asking me how i'm feeling. i look at my arms and back and it looks like its been stung by over 100 bees. there are long welts and swellings all over my exposed back skin, arms and part of my left leg. i'm so very allergic to grass and pollen, the sawgrass and other plants, scratched into my skin as i slid into the ditch.

i went to get ice for my sore calf at the medic tent, and people passing by want to know what happened to my back and arms...i'm starting to feel like a freak show. i don't really care because i'm thinking about my leg and marathon training. i think that when i fell and my right leg became twisted back as my foot stayed clipped in, i twisted my soleus (back of calf muscle) and hopefully its a muscle strain but not a tear.

the aftermath
took a reactine when i got home, washed off pollens, sprayed myself silly with lanacane and skin settled down as calf pain and tightness intensified. my sole mantra since june is do NOT get injured. marathon first. well, i'm injured. its taken me 2 days to write this because i'm so mad at being dumb enough to risk my marathon. the pain and tightness have subsided greatly thanks to ice, compression, and lots of rest. I'm seeing the ART guy tomorrow and hope he can help. shouldn't be a huge setback but on saturday night, i was deeply concerned and i have to say that really took away from the moment of crossing the finish line and the afterglow.now i can tell i'll run this wk but for 2 days i've been worried and cranky at my stupidity.

i should be elated that i dreamt up a crazy goal and met it while influencing my husband and 2 friends to have even bigger dreams! that's what its about. nothing like sharing dream time - even if it does have some surreal and kinda nightmarish qualities to it.