An Open Letter to 2013

Dear 2013,

I have a confession to make.

I have misjudged you. 

In my Open Letter to 2012, I bragged about all the things 2012 brought me.  Then, in subsequent posts, I went on to explain that, despite sounding so Lucky, you were basically a big slap in my face. I mentioned that I had an overwhelming feeling that you would bring me bigger things than 2012 brought me, but that many of them would be unpleasant. I mentioned that 2013 would probably not be a year for PR's or achievments.  I mentally prepared myself to be slower and more stressed-out. And then, when everything started to go to hell, I was all too quick to note (brag about?) how right I was.

Confirmation bias at its finest.

Well, I was wrong.  In fact, I was kind of an asshole.

But, while, I am never too proud to admit that I was wrong, I was also right.

For all my focus on positivity, I still make some fundamental errors.  This time, it was in assuming that things in my life could not be tremendously good and tremendously bad at the same time.

This is going to sound batshit crazy (I'm sure you're not shocked considering this comes from me), but sometimes when things go tremendously bad and tremendously good at the same time, the good seems so much better.  Something about being able to overcome massive odds can be extremely motivating. It's kind of like when someone tells you "you can't do that," so you want to do it just to prove them wrong.  And then, when the dust settles and you realize that you gained almost as much as you lost - well, it feels like the gain outweighs everything else.

I think it's the contrast.  If things went tremendously good all the time, I honestly don't think most of us would appreciate them as much.  We would grow complacent.  I mean, imagine you PR'd or won every time you raced.  Eventually, there wouldn't be a challenge anymore.  You'd probably move on to another sport - the next thrill, the next challenge.  (Ok, so I know some people would just keep doing it to enjoy the ego boost, but you get my point.)

I just finished one semester and we are literally jumping into the next semester on the same day, so I am sure there will be lots more challenges.  I still don't have a grade for one class, so I can't call Spring a success just yet.  Summer is 4 weeks shorter - but I'm taking one of the toughest classes of my program, so it should be interesting (to say the least).  But at the end of it I'll already be halfway through my Master's.  August will be my last Fall semester in the program.

Which means it will be time to start reapplying to PhD programs.

And in a few weeks I officially start training for The New York Marathon.

So, 2013, it appears you still have many things in store for me.  But this time, I am prepared for them to be good OR bad.

Or both.

I think we might become friends after all.

-MAJ

Lucky 13

An Open Letter to 2012

Dear 2012,

Wow. 

Where do I start?

First, I suppose I should start by saying that I never expected to be sitting at my computer blogging on New Year's Eve while I listen to people yell outside my window.

I mean, everyone knows how much I love both celebrations and new beginnings, so this night usually finds me dolled up in my trademark pinup style, toasting the evening with my standard NYE friends and bev.  Last year I got what I like to call "white girl wasted," which sure  sounds funny, but it made the next day good for nothing but taking down the Christmas decorations.

But lots of things are different this year. I vowed to make some sacrifices in 2012 and put aside some fun so I could accomplish things, for one.

I did that. And some of that sucked, but most of it was totally worth it. And I also got to do a LOT of unexpected celebrating this year . . . all year long.

Along those lines, I have the chance to finally make the legendary New Year's Day ride, which only happens once a year and I've missed 2 years in a row.  The ride will give me the chance to see everyone - I mean everyone - I cycled with from my old side of town, plus meet some new peeps. I also need to get my ass back on the bike.

As you and I both know, 2012, I can find an excuse to get dressed up and dance pretty much any night, but getting to experience the first day of a new year on my bike with some of my favorite people?

Well.  That's worth postponing the shenanigans.

2012, you have been a most incredible year.  By and large, you have been the best year of my life so far.  You brought me some amazing places, experiences and people.  I suppose you've taught me that "partying" and "celebrating" have nothing to do with beverages and bling and everything to do with your attitude and the people around you.

On the training and racing front, you saw me through a lot of great bike rides, like my second century (with a massive PR) and you brought me the cycling mentor who made that possible. You saw me complete my first crit and road races (and didn't laugh at me when I totally made an ass of myself).

You brought me a PR at the Sprint distance, where I met my goal of moving from Top 5 Athena to Top 5 Age Group. You brought me half marathon and 15k PR's.  And you brought me my 5th marathon in my 5th state, which I dubbed "El Cinco."

You also saw me incinerate my 2012 swim distance and sail by my 2012 run distance (although I was a little short on the cycling, despite all of it that I did early in the year.)

On the non-athletic side, you brought me my first term of grad school, academic awards I never anticipated, straight A's I certainly didn't expect, and a new job with an organization that really fits me.  You brought me new friends, and brought me closer to old friends, who adopted me into their families.

I know I am missing so much here, 2012; there is just so much good that you brought me.

You also brought me some really hard times. I lost a lot in 2012 (although nowhere near as much as I gained, and nowhere near as much as I lost during the "hard years.")  There were some academic and professional failures, like rejected research proposals. Although you brought me better medical insurance and the possibility that I may some day be able to retire or travel some day, you also brought me some additional burdens as I prepare for more diagnostic tests near my cancerversary.

Some people left my life that I never expected to be without, while some came into it that challenged me.  I had my share of personal rejections and  emotional stumbling blocks.
2012, you taught me so much about myself and about the people around me.

But, as wonderful as our relationship has been, it is time for you to go.

And, as much as I appreciated you, I do not mourn your passing.  I still have much to do, and the New Year - "Lucky '13" - awaits.

So I gratefully bid you adieu as I have the fortune to usher in yet another New Year - a year of more hard work, even more new experiences, and "40 good things."

I can't wait.

Love,

Your Biggest Fan

The Rocket City Marathon 2012 RR: I'm Running a MF Marathon

Have you ever run a marathon in the South?  If not, have you spent any significant time in the South?

You should.

 

I love Christmas, I love marathons, and I love running down here.

 

I'm from North Florida. So far North in Florida that my dad says we're "from L.A." (not Los Angeles; Lower Alabama).  The part of Florida I'm originally from is NOTHING like Orlando.  The tea is sweet, the chicken is fried, and you never met someone you didn't know.

 

My parents live in Fort Payne, Alabama.  It's affectionately known as the town the band Alabama is from.  The band even has a Christmas song called Christmas in Dixie that mentions their hometown.  At the very end, they sing, "and from Fort Payne, Alabama - Merry Christmas tonight!"

 

But I'll go ahead and spare you the yammering if you want to cut to the deets - I did not go sub-5, which means my 5-year BQ plan is officially 5 years. I did, however, PR by about 6 minutes. I did, as I have alluded, try a very new HARD AS SHIT half marathon plan. I did have some very unconventional LONG RUN and training strategies. And this was possibly the hardest marathon I've ever run. It was almost 20 degrees warmer than expected, hillier, and 80-90% humidity for the whole race. My legs were tired from a long run that my sinus infection forced very close to the race. I had to walk more than just every other aid station.

And to top it all off, at about mile 8, disaster struck.

My heart rate monitor died.

I was forced to run nearly the entire marathon by feel.

 

But, back to marathoning in the South.

 

At the Huntsville Holiday Inn

People down here are just . . . . special.  Yes, I consider myself progressive; yes, there can be some laws and customs that are a bit . . . . well . . . . backward. And you should know that Huntsville is called the Rocket City because it's home to a hub of aerospace engineering.

 

This is not, by any means, a backward, podunk town.

 

But there is something about the South you just cannot explain to those who have not experienced it.

 

I have mentioned before that I LOVE local races. And there's something about deep-South running that just warms the soul.  In both Savannah and Huntsville, the crowd support was magnificent.  Everyone lines up on porches, all the way through mile 14-16 in Savannah to tell runners "good morning" and "good job." (Compare this to Disney, who doesn't even let supporters in the park to cheer you on; or Orlando, who doesn't even have their own marathon.)  And Rocket City (Huntsville) in particular, had supporters lined up for every single mile of the race -not just at aid stations, but all the way through mile 24 - TWENTY-FOUR, I TELL YOU - and the runners were just as supportive of the supporters, offering each a heartfelt "thank you." 
 

I made a friend at the start with whom I ran until almost mile 10 - her name is Laney.  She was doing her "first and last" marathon.  Her family got used to seeing me and they even cheered for me, too.

Southerners live and die by our college sports teams. It doesn't matter whether you went there, grew up there, or had an uncle who attended - it's all about the college sports. It's the spirit, the camaraderie, the joie de vivre.  I have a friend whose grandfather was the sports medicine physician for UNC.  My dad's family went to UF. My parents live around the corner from the University of Alabama, and my roommate and her family either go or live there.
 

So, for a marathon in Huntsville, I sported my houndstooth and crimson.  And, about every aid station, someone acknolweged this. Laney's family was for the rival team, and they acknowledged that, too.

 

It was a magical experience.  Then again, running a marathon is always a magical experience.  I'd even go so far as to use the word "transformative."

 

Rocket City 2012 was no different.

 

The truth was, given the circumstances during my training leading up to this 5th marathon, it was a stretch to expect a PR at the half marathon OR full distance this year.  But, because I worked hard, played hard, and trusted the team advising me, I got both (plus a 5k and 15k PR to boot). 

 

We all face challenges when we train.  Life happens. I had work change, and friends cancel race plans on me, and things upset me, and a 3-week sinus infection that led me to multiple nurse practicioner visits, and was recovering from a mild tibial stress fracture.

 

But, because I was an otherwise balanced indidivudal with a solid plan, a team of coaches and physicians told me by and large, you are doing the right things to get faster, stronger, and healthier - so keep on keepin' on. 

 

So I did.

 

Rocket City 2012: AKA "El Cinco."

 

This was my fifth marathon in my fifth state (hence the rampant obnoxious hashtags about #elcinco and #irunthistown). And, as you can tell by some of the pictures below, the conditions were less than ideal - gray, rainy, exceptionally humid, 20 degrees warmer than expected, and  - despite course descriptions - NOT flat.

 

I would 1,000,000,000 times rather run a cold marathon.  Like Philly 2007: sleet.  Like Disney 2010: snow the day before (in Florida), 35 degrees max temperature on race day.  I'll take all of this over 80-90% humidity and almost 70.

 

But, you race the conditions you are dealt.

 

And, if you survive those conditions and finish a race . . .

 

And, if you survive those conditions and PR . . . 

 

Then, well . .  .

 

You head into the off-season with a smile.

You know you have some serious swimming in your near future.

You hug the shit out of your parents when you cross the finish line, you get a Moon Pie and a beer, and you say, "ya'all wanna go over to the convention center and see the craft show?"

 

And, from Fort Payne, Alabama, you might just say Merry Christmas tonight.

 

So I did.

 

I'm off to the off-season, the holiday season, and a very, very bright outlook for my 2013 goals.

 

Whatever it is you celebrate, I wish you the happiest yet.

 

ME, at mile 21, waving at Mom, who is the best cheerleader on earth: equal parts sappy Mommy and Drill Sergeant.  Mom:"YOU'RE LOOKING GREAT, SWEETIE! Daddy says you're making great time."  Me: "yea, but I'm not going to make my goal." Mom: "WELL THEN GET YOUR BUTT MOVIN'! YOU GOT 5 MORE MILES TO RUN!!!"    (About this point, I said, she's right. I'm running a MF marathon!  Tired legs or not, I couldn't keep the grin off my face.)

The toy soliders in the Chattanooga airport.

 

 

 

Me, post-race.

 



Mom and Dad's tree
Chattanooga airport.

Great beer

 

 

Race medal and hounsdtooth scarf

2013: The Year of 40 Good Things

It's that time again!

Time for TAPER! SO READY! (I just have to stop shoving the food in my face now that the calorie-burning is reduced, LOL)

Time for RACE! I completed my longest training run, despite an ear infection, over 20 seconds per mile faster than last year's.  So I AM FEELING PSYCHED!

More 'bout that later, though.

It's also that time for BIRTHDAY YEAR RECAP! Woot!

On the tail end of my 33rd birthday, I am giving my annual "year in review" capped with resolution-type thingies. It is my custom to do this around my birthday instead of New Year's because my birthday's the the beginning of an entire additional year of my life.

Lots of big things have happened this year; tons of changes in my life. People, places, habits, jobs.  Since this is, after all, a training blog, I'll start with the training front.

While I've had outstanding results with his coaching staff, I have the pleasure now of working with the head of D3 Multisport, Mike Ricci, through my Beginner Triathlete services. Mike is the head coach for University of Colorado (wonder if he knows that I'm a Ram?!) and an all-around awesome guy. I feel so lucky that someone let me know BT online coaching existed because, as I've said many times, they're the perfect solution for the budget-conscious or long-distance athlete. Thanks to them, I've PR'd nonstop. At the end of this season, maybe I will even reveal one of my little training secrets!

On the work front, the organization for which I work just got purchased by a massive, worldwide, industry leader. A few weeks ago, one of the executives came to speak with us about the transition, and one of the things he said really stood out in my mind.

I always tell the people that work for me that you should have 40 Good Things on your list. If you have 30 Good Things and 10 Bad Things, then you need to find solutions for the 10 Bad Things and come back to me. But you should have about 40 Good Things on your list at any given time, and then let's get busy trying to accomplish the first 5.

This really cemented my positive feelings about the transition, but it also stuck with me. BE solutions-oriented. BE positive. BE realistic. Can you really do 40 things at once? Nope. If you have 30 other things on your list, are those 10 Bad Things really meaningful? Nope.

I spent the next few weeks thinking, what are MY 40 Good Things and how can I start working on the first 5?

I thought first about how many Good Things I've already experienced this year.

• I began grad school, which has been exceptionally difficult, but rewarding - at a great school.
• I am the first person in my family to go to graduate school.
• Work is fulfilling.
• My health has been improving by leaps and bounds. I still get sick here and there, but I don't get sick for weeks on end. I guess my body fighting off a 4+-centimeter tumor and lymph nodes in my neck was keeping me from being able to heal other things :-)
• My weight stabilized, then continued heading downward (I've lost 30+ pounds since my thyroidectomy in 2010.)
• My training has gone so well. Life still throws me curveballs, although they're not the giant, earth-shattering, world-altering curveballs they once were, but I am once again myself and know to just re-prioritize and keep on rollin'.

 . . . just to name a few.

And then I thought about the people in my life.

Holy crap, that's too much Good Thing for one bullet point.

I mean it when I tell you this - I am surrounded by fantastic people. People who really, truly believe in me.  People who are really, truly, there for me. I have whined a lot about missing my parents now that they're 500 miles away, but I am so fortunate that my friends have become my surrogate family.  If it was not for these people, I would not be where I am today.

So where do I start for 2013?

 

2013: The Year of 40 Good Things

(Some of which are just Good Things about Life, and the First 5 of Which I Shall Set About Doing . . . . NOW!)

1. I don't always have what I want.  Sometimes I don't have some of the things I need. But the best of my 40 Good Things is that I'm very fortunate and have SO much, I'm alive, with a roof over my head, and people who love me. The first Good Thing is to always remember and appreciate this.
2. Continue trying to be the absolute best person I can be. Try to be as open-minded, drama-free, accepting, and un-petty (is that a word?!) as possible.
3. Make sure the meaningful people in my life know how important they are to me. And do my best to keep surrounding myself with positive people.
4. Keep healthy, which means keep getting my scans and bloodwork, etc. but also means keep training. I will say it 1,000 times before I ever stop: being active literally saved my life. Racing kept me training, and training kept me active.
5. Keep setting BIG ASS GOALS for myself.  FOR EXAMPLE: I am ridiculous to think I can qualify for Boston . . .  RIGHT NOW.  But, if I keep after it, I eventually will. Being the first person of this generation of my family to go to graduate school, I can also tell you that it once seemed ridiculous to even complete my Bachelor's degree. . .  and yet now I'm getting my Master's. Little steps every day lead to big ass things.
6. Keep trying to give to those who are in need. Of money, time, love, whatever.
7. Keep looking at changes in direction and plan as positives. If something comes up, it's not because "my luck is always bad." It may be because my luck is good.  Or sometimes, no labels need to be attached - it just freaking IS.
8. Stop worrying so much what other people think of me.
9. Stop apologizing for myself.
10. On that note, less negative language as a whole!
11. Try to label things less.
12. Try to make the best decisions I can, and then move forward (see picture above) - don't dwell on the past. I will not always win at this "Good Thing," but (see #4) if I make little steps each day I'll get there.
13. Get better at understanding mathematical concepts.
14. Be brave, imaginative, decent.
15. Laugh.  A lot.
16. Worry. A lot less.
17. Work hard.
18. Play hard.
19. Find little things to celebrate every day.
20. Save more cash.
21. Stay involved in research and teaching
22. And my next project starts next month! Instructional design stuff this time.
23. Finish my Masters - which, if I do the things above, will just happen naturally.
24. Get into a PhD program.
25. I have a great place to live.
26. The opportunity to grow with my current organization.
27. A strong relationship with my parents.
28. Florida sunshine - while the humidity kills me, it's nice to have it most of the year.
29. Getting back on the bike after marathon season is over.
30. Tour de Cure. I'm not sure if I'll do the metric or full century this year but I'm signed up.
31. I don't have diabetes.
32. I don't have cancer anymore (early to cheer for this one, but I'll start).
33. I'm open and flexible to options. If something doesn't go my way, it's not a failure.  It's just a difference.
34. A PR at nearly every distance race I've cracked this year - not huge ones, but good ones.
35. New friends.
36. Good food.
37. Good drinks.
38. A clean, safe place to sleep every night.
39. Lots of fun stuff to do.
40. Keep the shiny side up and the sticky side down.

What are your Good Things?  Whatever they are, I hope your holiday season and your 2013 brings you lots of them.

Girl on Fire

She's just a girl and she's on fire
Hotter than a fantasy
Lonely like a highway
She's living in a world and it's on fire
Filled with catastrophe
But she knows she can fly away
She got both feet on the ground, and she's burning It down
She's got her head in the clouds
And she's not coming down
This Girl Is On Fire
-Alicia Keys

The Apocalypse is Upon Us aka Two Letters I've Never Uttered Together

Yesterday was my short zone 1/2 run and today was my mid-distance zone 1/2 run. Each week I have 2 zone 1/2 runs (one shorter and one long), 1 short speed run and 1 mid-distance run that is either speed or 1/2 depending on how much coach wants to torture me.  Then I also have 1 ride which is either trainer work or hill repeats and one swim which is drills out the ass. (I just got informed that I'm doing a kick set the size of almost an entire swim.  I was unamused.)

But something was wrong with this run.  I kept glancing down at my GPS to check my time and distance, and between slow-downs for corners, those moments before you pause at traffic lights, and a few tiny hills, it kept flashing something close to my 5k pace. And I was in zones 1 and 2.  In fact, my average heart rate stayed in low zone 2 the whole run. 

How can I be only 30-60 seconds off my 5k pace in zones 1 and 2?

I finished the run with an average of 10:49.  That's still a good bit off my 5k pace (8:40-9:11), but holy crap.  I saw those paces on my watch several times.  I've NEVER seen those on my watch during a zone 1/2 run.  EVER.

Now, to a lot of you Speed Demons, this is tortuously slow running.  For those of you, recall that, just around the time of my surgery, before and after they found my cancer, my zone 1/2 runs were 14-15 minute miles.  That's 4+ minutes slower than I am running now.  And that was only 2 years ago.  Even if I go back to 2006 when I first started racing - 6 years ago - my zone 1/2 was 12-14 minutes/mile then.

My goal pace for this race would put me at MOST of the marathon in zone 1/2 at 11:21 per mile.  I just did one of my FIRST 1/2 runs of the season completely SUB-11.  Today's run of double the distance was smack on my marathon goal pace.

So my mind gets to whirring and buzzing and clicking (relax, this is normal), and I think the unthinkable.

Maybe I could finish this marathon in like 4:30-4:48.

That's 2 HOURS off my very first marathon in 2007.

And that's not a slow marathon anymore.

Anything under 5 hours isn't slow, but that's REALLY not slow.

And then my brain goes:

Hell, if I lost 4 minutes per mile in two years, in two more years I'll be running in zone 1 and 2 at about 8:30 per mile.

And that's when it hit me.

That's Boston pace.

I always said I had no interest in trying to BQ.  But that was back when I associated that pace with my lactate threshold, dying, trying-not-to-puke pace. If I can be at Boston pace in zone 1 or 2, a BQ wouldn't feel quite that bad.  Granted, I'd have to train to do it for 26.2 miles, but I've trained to do a LOT of things for 3-10 hours.

So it was decided.  The Apocalypse is upon us. 

Me, a former 6:48 marathoner, adding Boston qualifying to my 5-year plan. (And no, Ironman still isn't on it.)


Yup, end of the world is nigh.

Let's Go

Let's go
Make no excuses now
I'm talking here and now
I'm talking here and now
Let's go

I decided that I needed a goal for my 5th marathon in my 5th state.  Since by now I've made it clear that I like corny slogans to repeat to myself when the going gets tough, I decided I needed one of those too.

Fittingly, last week was my two-year anniversary of being declared cancer-free after my surgery and radioactive iodine treatment.  It was last year that my first scan showed up stone cold normal.

It was this year that I also decided that I needed to reinvent myself again.  Remember MAJsicle 2012?

It's not about what you've done, it's about what you're doing

So I was sitting at my desk, looking at my medals from the previous 9 half marathons and previous 4 marathons.  I thought back to 2006, when I did my first half and said I'd never do a full.  I thought back to 2007, when I didn't take my medication before Philly because I had no clue I'd be out there for 6 hours and 48 minutes.  I thought about how I used to die thinking about doing a sprint tri in under 2 hours and now I'm looking to break 1, possibly as soon as next year.

It's all about where you're going, no matter where you've been

And I looked up at the medal hanger.

It says I RUN THESE TOWNS

Let's go
There ain't no better time
I'm talking here and now
I'm talking here and now

Suddenly I get this vision of myself crossing my 5th finish line of my 5th marathon in my 5th state.  (Hey, I'm no wacko, the pros practice visualization ALL THE TIME).

And then I hear *BIG ANNOUNCER VOICE* "HUNTSVILLE, ALABAMA!!!!!  I run this town!!!!!"

Let's go

Why make a conservative goal for this race?  Back when I was sick all the time, I busted my ass to put in what training I could put in and still finish because it was the only thing that made me feel better. I hardly made my planned workouts, but the fact that those mystery illnesses were trying to stop me made me more determined to finish.

Right now is where you shine
I'm talking here and now
I'm talking here and now
Let's go

But now those days are gone.  Now I'm not sick all the time.  There is no pre-set limit.  Obviously, I get more tired and need more rest than the typical athlete.  Obviously, my swim and run are my weakest sports.

It's not about what you've done, it's about what you're doing

But now I'm in a position physically to put in more training.  And I'm definitely in a position to make each training session count.  Now I'm more determined to finish just because I WANT TO.

Let's go

My previous marathon PR is 5:35.  So I decided that I wanted to do my 5th marathon in my 5th state  in under 5 hours.

It's now or never
Let's go
Tomorrow's good, tonight is better

Yep, I am aware that a 35-minute PR is a bit ridiculous to expect.  And, honestly, it's not that I think I'll get THAT MUCH BETTER.  I just know where I've been.  And you know what they say - if you shoot for the moon and miss, you still land among the stars.

On that note, it's time for the week's short run.

After all, don't I RUN this town?

Let's go!

-Calvin Harris, Let's Go

Don't Call it a Comeback

Don't call it a comeback
I been here for years
Rockin my peers and puttin suckas in fear
Makin the tears rain down like a MON soon
Listen to the bass go BOOM
Explosion overpowerin
Over the competition I'm towerin

-LL Cool J, Mama Said Knock You Out

So, I've been gone for a few months.

And now I'm back.

But, in the words of Mr. LL Cool J, don't call it a comeback.

After all, I been here for years. 

. . . Which is how long it feels since the 2012 Baldwin Park Sprint Triathlon.  I never wrote my race report - but, the crazy thing is, this race is one of the most report-worthy I've ever raced.  In fact, it's that way EVERY year.  Last May, before I did this race, I made major life decisions. This May, I made some even bigger decisions.

I have to tell you - my training suffered.  A move across town, a new job, the end of the teaching semester, getting ready for my own graduate coursework, and the end of my research project - plus some other personal revelations, doctor's visits, waiting to find out if I needed another radioactive iodine scan - that all really took its toll on my body, heart and soul.  This year, more than ever, I was reminded of the power of the mind-body connection.  I think back to the days when I really struggled, physically and emotionally, and I realize now how connected they really are.

I still signed up for the race.  And I honestly felt a little worried that it wouldn't end up well.  A tiny little part of me wanted to crawl into a cocoon and cry and drink until I didn't know where I was.

As you might recall, someone - a FEW someones, actually -  had told me, rather innocuously, that they didn't think I should make the move from Athena to Age Group because I would have a better chance of placing in Athena.

Something like this happened in my head:

Mama said knock you out
I'm gonna knock you out

There were a few goofy moments where I stumbled over myself in transition, and a bummer when a friend in a younger age group passed me on the run despite my massive lead on the bike, but it was truly the most confident I've ever felt on a race course. When I crossed the finish line in 1:12 and change - a 12-minute PR over last year - I was all smiles.  A guy stopped me and told me that he had to tell himself I was a pro to feel better about how I handed him his ass on the bike course.

But don't call it a comeback

I watched a few acquaintances come in and then stumbled over to the tent to check out my results.  I fully expected to be top 3, given last year's results.  Usually, women 30-34 are not the fastest.  We typically get beat by 35-39 and 40-45.  But when I looked down at the sheet, the #1 woman had finished FOUR MINUTES FASTER THAN I DID. 

Damn.  Bitches be trippin'.

Correction:  bitches be FLYIN'.

And then I realized

I was 5th. 

I had just successfully transitioned from top Athena to top AG.

And THEN I realized

I WAS FIRST PLACE 30-34 ON THE BIKE

In a race where my age group was the fastest or second-fastest age women of the entire race

(Later on I realized I was 8th place out of all women on the bike and about 18th overall.)

The funny part? I weigh under 150 some days when I'm buck naked, but with clothes on - especially with shoes on - by weight, I am a true Athena.

Mama said knock you out
I'm gonna knock you out

The one big takeaway: I was disproportionately slower on the run and swim. I already bumped up my strength routine. So I was left with a decision to make a dedicated effort on those two sports.  I took a couple light recovery-ish type days and planned a 4-week, 10,000-yard-a-week swim block.

How'd that go? As of this moment, I've swam 11,000 yards more in 2012 than I swam in ALL of 2011.  I'm still 500 miles shy of my all-2011bike totals and 320 miles shy of my all-2011 run numbers - but I'll get there.  Next year, I want my run and my swim to be as strong as my bike.

And next week, I start training for my 5th marathon, the December Rocket City Marathon in Huntsville, Alabama.  On the way, I had so much fun at the BP tri, I decided to do the BP Half Marathon.

We'll call it a 4.5-month run block.

But don't call it a comeback.


PS - if you haven't before, go read about my hero and fellow thyroid cancer survivor, as well as fellow fall risk, Kristin McQueen.  You'll thank me.

My But Isn't As Big As It Used to Be

I had two major realizations this week: one is that I frequently have the unpopular opinion; the other is that I have weird dreams.  The first I realized when I was the only person to voice an unpopular opinion in a work meeting (I’ve suspected it for years, but only recently grew a big enough pair to speak up).  The second I learned a few nights ago.

 

I learned a third and possibly more important thing this week, too, but to get to that, I have to tell you about the dream.

In this dream, I saw myself in a bikini in a picture, and I looked AWESOME.  I’ve never looked good in a bikini, not even at 15.96% body fat.  In this picture, I wasn’t skinny – AT ALL – but you could actually SEE my abs.  And I kept saying to someone, “SEE!!! I told you I have abs!!!” (and they agreed).

Now here’s the funny part.  I have serious abs, but they are hidden under fat (I’m not just saying that, I’m serious).  The thinner I get, the more you can see them, but right now you just see the outlines.  Obvious, right?  But no one really knows this because 1)you never catch me showing my stomach and 2) they’re hidden under fat, so you’d have to look close. 

Anyway, in this dream, I looked as fit in this dream as I am in real life.  I was so excited you could actually see them. 

After a while of looking at the picture, though, I started to get super upset.  Because I realized I had abs, but I had no boobs.  (In real life, I’m  . . . more blessed than average in the ta-ta department (not fun on runs), but I look a good bit smaller than I am – so this is a point of contention in real life, too.)

What I realized today from this dream was not that I want to look different or need “work” done or anything like that.  It was that, no matter what happens – no matter how well we do, or how awesome we look – if we want to find something to be upset about or dislike about ourselves, WE CAN.   If you want to find something to be unhappy about, YOU WILL.

So isn’t the opposite probably true?

If you let yourself – and sometimes I do – you can add a BUT onto the end of anything. I lost ten pounds BUT I need to lose 5 more.  I have great abs BUT I have no boobs. I won an award BUT I didn’t get into one of the schools I wanted.  I know everyone has problems BUT mine are so much worse.

I used to have a pretty big but.

Several studies (I’ll go pull the journal articles if you like) have noted that people’s lives go back to normal – if not worse – within the months following a major event like weight loss, lottery wins, etc.  So, research supports the conclusion that, no matter how many degrees or surgeries completed, pounds lost or promotions earned, the person underneath is still there when you’re done.

What does this mean to me? It means, if I’m waiting until that degree comes, or that boob job or tummy tuck heals, or that last 5 pounds go away, or this crisis ends, or I get that new job – chances are, they won’t really make me any happier. 

So, why not be happy now, and let the rest follow?

My dad, as you may know, is a big inspiration for the blog.  So of course, something he's always told me came to mind (which he borrowed from a high school shop teacher, believe it or not): hue to the line, and let the chips fall where they may.

So my BUTT probably won’t get any smaller with all these chips in the picture.  Maybe my but will.

Week in Song Lyrics

There’s Hope, India.Airie

Back in the back country of Brazil

There was a young brother that made me feel

That I could accomplish anything

You see, just like me, he wanted to sing

He had no windows and no doors

He lived a simple life and was extremely poor

On top of all that he had no eyesight

But that didn’t keep him from seein’ the light

He said, what’s it like in the USA?

And all I did was complain

Livin’ here is paradise

He taught me paradise is in your mind

You know, there’s hope

It doesn’t cost a thing to smile

You don’t have to pay to laugh

You better thank God for that

Double The Fun . . .

My goals for the year were as follows:

Swim 120,000 yds (12,000/month OR 3,000/week)
Ride 70+ miles per week (280/month)
Run 10+ miles per week (40/month)

So here is how my actuals stack up so far!!

March's totals:
Bike: 3h 27m 11s - 60.33 Mi March has only been "on" for 7 days, so this isn't too far off
Run: 1h 32m 21s - 7.47 Mi This is just sad.  I should pick it up.
Swim: 2h 45m 23s - 6400 Yd This is ridiculous!
So, what you can see from March's numbers is that I really have a swim focus, because most of my time is dedicated to that.

2012 totals
Bike: 34h 25m 59s - 600.04 Mi 
Run: 7h 25m - 38.84 Mi
Swim: 10h 12m - 24000 Yd
Strength: 1h 05m
Yoga: 3h 55m



Double the Workouts, Double the Fun

And what you can see from so far this year is that I really need to run more and do strength more consistently!
Basically, the swim is going to take care of itself, but I need to focus on getting slightly longer or more frequent runs and possibly 1 more ride a week.

Which means . . .

It's about the time of the plan . . . .

To get serious about

TWO-A-DAYS!

I don't normally worry much about two-a-days for a sprint, but with my focus turning to whatever IronMAJ 70.3 I end up creating, it will definitely need to come into play.

I always grumble about things that aren't terribly pleasant (long pool swims, two-a-days), but then when they WORK . . . .

Not so much grumbling occurs.

Plain and simple: hard work gets results.

The next order of business is creating The iMAJination 5k, to be held in April.  I'm sure I'll tell you all about it, but I already have one participant lined up! 

The Only Thing Standing Between You and Your Goal

About 2 weeks ago I stole this picture from a friend on Facebook.  (Supposedly, Jordan Belfort said it.)   I don't expect the quotes that inspire me to have such an immediate use in my life,  but this one meant something to me right away.  Around the same time, I had a tough decision to make. 

That decision was to quit racing for the rest of the year.

I raced – and romped, at non-race events – a LOT last year.  This year, I have already accomplished a lot – a huge 5k PR, even tried my first bike races.  I have made huge strides and shown a lot of promise.

I have been extremely fortunate.

The decision was super-hard.  I just committed to training with a cycling team (they're super-casual, so there's that).  And it's not like triathlon or marathon or cycling is something I do – it's who I am. 

I AM a cyclist.  I AM a runner.  I AM a swimmer. I AM a triathlete.

Unfortunately, as much as I've tried to stop talking about it, I AM also a cancer patient. And it ain't cheap.  It's just not possible to afford to race AND pay for my medical care AND put money away for a rainy day.

I'm not gonna lie – I threw a bit of a Bitch Fit (BF).  (See yesterday's entry.)  It seemed like a cruel paradox: the number one thing that got me out of bed and on with my life, even during my sickest, most hypo moment, was knowing that – if I just DID it – I could get stronger, faster, fitter enough to toe the line at another race, be even better than I was before the C-bomb, and maybe even win some bling.  

So, about 20 minutes into said BF, I thought to myself, well, hell.  I'm not going to stop training.

Then I thought to myself, WTF are you going to train for?  People are going to think you're batshit crazy, training for imaginary races.

And that's when it hit me.

This is MAJsicle 2012 we're talking about here. 

I'm not going to train for imaginary races.  I'm going to train for iMAJinary races.

Which is far less crazy, right?

I say to The B, "I am still going to train for Race X, Y, Z and possibly F, even though I can't do them.  I am going to run my own race series, find places to do them and make you come cheer for me when I cross the 'finish line.'"  And, bless his heart, instead of saying, "You're batshit crazy," he says, "Or maybe a Fat Fairy will bring you a gift and you can do some of the real ones." 

A Fat Fairy?  Really?

So here is the plan for (drumroll please) The iMAJination Race Series.  Our slogan will be The Only Thing Standing Between You and Your Dreams is a Little iMAJInation.(Ok, so the slogan needs work.) 

1. March 18, 2012 - Tour de Mom 2012 (this one is already taken care of, and the money was raised for the American Diabetes Association, so I can't take credit for this one.)
2. May 20, 2012 - The Central Florida iMAJination Sprint Triathlon.  This will be a sprint-distance triathlon somewhere in Central Florida with a cycling leg that is set up like a circuit race (5, 2.xx-mile loops)
3. Some time in summer, there will be a "Crit."
4. There will also be a 5k or 10k. Or both.
5. September 30, 2012 - IronMAJ 70.3.  This will be a 70.3-distance race most likely with the swim leg in Lake Tuscawilla.  But on the same day.  Unlike IronMAJ 2011, which was a full Ironman but across three months.
6. The NYC or DC iMAJathon:  on the date of one of those two races, in a location to be determined, I will design and run a full 26.2-mile course.

If the Fat Fairy comes, I'll do some real races, but otherwise, that's where the hard work comes in. I am going to have to set up courses, full-scale water and nutrition stops for myself and the whole 9.

I can still:

1. Swim 120,000+ yards (on my way!)
2. Ride 70 miles + per week (on my way!)
3. Run 10+ miles per week (this one needs some work)

Let's do this, Brutus.

Sometimes, Life Takes You Places

There is no nice way to say this: this morning's run blew chunks. I was really pooped.  I don't know if it was a thy-low or I'm tired from two weeks of racing capped off by an AWESOME group ride yesterday (despite the wind we still averaged almost 20mph - front group 20, back group 19.5-19.8). 

Either way, it sucked.

When I'm tired I usually push through it.  I tell myself if I really, truly feel bad I'll do one mile and come home.  Sometimes that's one mile total; sometimes that's one mile out and back.   (Today it was the latter.)  I've mentioned the summer I had my surgery ad nauseum - you know, the one where I just got up one morning and said, "no matter what I do I'm still going to feel bad, so I may as well train."  Well, my friend Becky put it even better today: "Even on a bad run day I feel good to have gotten out of bed."  I'm still exchausted, but I'm exhausted with 2 more miles in the bank.

There's a lot of my life that's in flux right now.  Depending on where I get into school, I may end up where I am or another part of town, or another state.  I didn't go through this for undergrad - I went to a hometown college while I worked full-time.  So this is a new experience for me.

Life takes us a lot of places.  Some of them we expect; some of them we don't.  Another great point Becky got me thinking about was that, sometimes training (like life) is not so much about the destination as it is the journey.

This is the group from yesterday's ride.  I love these guys.  I hope if I have to move I find cycling buddies I like this much.

2012 DeLand Spring Fling of Cycling Road Race: Pre-Race Report

Here I am, on the eve of my very first cycling race.  I am prepared as I will ever be; I even took the aerobars off Ruby so she will look like a real road bike and not a tri-bike. 

I have little idea of what to expect tomorrow, but I do know that I am going into this with rested legs and MORE endurance than I need, and a good tolerance for racing in the red (Remember, I'm Only Getting Started, Go Hard or Go Home, and Pain Cave?) My coach(es) (yes, I annoyed the hell out of my friend who has raced P1/2 for tips) told me specifically not to get too feisty with the attacking.

Road racing is different than anything I've ever done before.    You don't have to get up at ass'o'clock, for one thing: you don't even race until 8:30am, and that's only if you're racing Pro 1/2 and you're a man. Us Cat 3/4 ladies go at 11:30 and the Pro 1/2 ladies and Cat 4 men go out around 1. (Tell me THAT isn't awesome). Race fees are a good bit cheaper. You get to draft. You only do one sport. The races are considerably shorter (1-2 hours in most cases until you start getting Pro.) 

Road races are definitely not as popular as the other stuff I've done; I hardly know anyone doing this race, and many of the people I know doing it are way more experienced and even race on legit teams and the whole 9. It really is MY DAY. (With all the other crap flying around me, I could use a ME day.)

In any case, both coaches gave me the following advice.

Important Rule for Cycle Racing Virgins: Your first and most important objective is to have fun, followed by this: be safe and try not to get shaken from the pack.

Okie dokie.  Now we know what my goal is for tomorrow.


By now we know that racing (and life) don't always present us with the best of circumstances on the eve of a big event.  I'd like to be well-rested, massaged, and pumped.  But I don't feel good and I've had a hard training week.  I've spent the past month planning special events at work to try to shake up (and hopefully improve?) campus life. I'm trying to concentrate on the Fourth Discipline, I have major research deadlines, and am currently sifting through thousands of pieces of data as well as dozens of student assignments. (I'm surprised I'm even taking the time to write this, but if I didn't take a break for awhile, I'd probably suffer even further sanity loss.)

The funeral was way harder than I expected. I was severely depressed, and I am still recovering from what was my first real funk since before my thryoidectomy. My toe arthritis is acting up thanks to all the standing (especially in grass, in high heels) at the burial and wake. I am overwhelmed with the mental and emotional strain.

But I've done a marathon feeling like this before, and that lasted 5.5 hours; this is less than half that.  And tomorrow I don't have to be up at 3 or 4 a.m. like I do on a Marathon or Triathlon Eve.


Still, with all this going on, I found myself thinking how the hell did I get here?

The answer is that I got here, not just to the eve of my first road race, but into everything I've been doing the past few months, the fundraising, the knee-deep work and projects and research and special events - all of it - because I never stop challenging myself.   Yeah, maybe I am a bit overwhlemed.  And yeah, sometimes I bite off more than I can chew.  And (at least in the case of this road race) sometimes I may very well suck at something and wear myself out, but I will be able to rest soon enough.

I knew that cycling was my strength, and that I wanted to explore it more, and that I wanted to get even stronger.  And I kept saying some day I will do a century, some day I will be an A rider, some day I will do cycling races.  Some day, some day, some day.

Well, some day may never come.
I got a taste this week of the bitter reality that life really can end at any moment.  It doesn't matter if you're young, healthy, or cancer-free, or aging, frail, and brittle.  It can happen at any time, to anyone.  Knowing that, I feel like I owe it to myself to live outside my comfort zone.

I feel like we all owe it to ourselves to never, EVER stop challenging ourselves. In many cases, the challenge will be the hardest work you've ever imagined. But, whether you realize your plans or NOT, just making the effort will move you much farther along than you hiding yourself in familiarity. 

Life is too short to be stagnant. Reach out, branch out, way beyond your comfort zone, and see just how great you can be. I promise you this: you're capable of much more than you ever imagined.

I DO that

Have you been over to Infosack.com to read Heather's blog yet?  If you haven't, go now.  Her observations about parenting are funny and insightful.

Heather's youngest, Baby Dino (like all toddlers and infants) gets on a new kick every now and then where a particular phrase or group of expressions dominate each interaction with those around her.  Her latest has been stuck in my head for weeks: (sometimes out of nowhere), she will screw her face up into a wacky grin - complete with mischievous dimple - and announce boldly: "I do that!"

What, exactly, does she do?

No one yet knows.

If you ask her that question, the response will likely be: "I do it."  (Note:  the inflection, speed of delivery, and emphasis change every time (I DO that; *I* do that, I do THAT!!, IDOIT, Idothat, etc), but also note that she will never tell you what "that" is.)

Kids aren't for me, but they kick ass.  They really love life just like it is.  They don't have pre-formed notions.  They don't stress, they don't put on airs, and they don't sweat the petty things (although they do sometimes pet the sweaty things.  That's what soap and antibacterial gel are made for.)

So my focus right now is the bike, and next weekend is my first road race.  (Yes, that sound you just heard was me crapping my pants.  I am so not sure I'm ready, but the only way to start is to, well, start.)  This past week, I rode over 130 miles.  One of those rides was with the Seminole Cyclists (they do, in fact, build stronger riders - I'm proof).  When the president figured out that there was no "A" group,  he called for the "B" riders.  If you've known me long enough, you know I am definitely a "B" rider - nothing more. 

Well, unfortunately for MAJ, he didn't call for "B" riders, he called for "B PLUS" riders.

What difference does that little "+" add, you ask?  Several miles per hour.

So here I was, tooling along thinking, man these people are hauling ass; they must be sprinting.  I can't wait until they calm it back down to a "B" pace. 

Instead, they just kept getting faster. 

Between miles 10 and 15, they left me in the dust.  So, I did what I always do when left alone: hit the drops/aerobars and did work.  The other "B" group caught me on the last 3 or 4 miles of the 35+ mile ride. I'm not gonna lie: I had to work hard, and I was pooped around mile 30.  But what got me through the tough part of that ride, alone in the wind, was the sound of Baby Dino's voice in my head saying: I do it. 

Yeah, I did it.

Let's just put it this way: that 10-15 miles with them brought my average speed for the whole 48 miles, including my solo warmup/cooldown ride to and from the ride, up almost 2 miles per hour.

My kilometer swim in the middle of that ride was pretty challenging.  My legs were a little torched.  That which doesn't kill me can only make me stronger, right?

So I told Heather the next day how the ride crushed me, and about how I kept thinking I do that as I rode along alone, and I told her how nervous I am about the Spring Fling this weekend.  (I have a motto for every race, so I've decided that I do it is my official motto this weekend.)  I explained to Heather that road races are not like triathlons or marathons; you don't get a medal just for finishing, people can be tough, the courses can be tough, and EVERYONE sucks at it to begin with.

Her response was just about as awesome as her kid's: you just keep being awesome and those mean bitches can eat your dust.

I laughed, and then I thought to myself, "I do that."

And So it Begins.

While I am recovering from this cold thing, I have some time to sit around and think about what's ahead of me.

PhD letters.  Acceptance or rejection.  Either way, I will know something.
My first research proposal presentation.
Another semester of students, and the inevitable good times that will ensue.
Another quarter of other students at the other school . . . more good times.

And another season of century training.

Last year, I decided I was going to do my first century ride.

What adventures we had.  A big group of us spent every Sunday together, going from spot to spot in Central Florida, enjoying the outdoors, loving life, and making new friends everywhere we went.  We were loud, fun, funny, and more than a little smart-alecky.

It was one of the best times of my life.  (Ass-disfiguring saddle sores aside.)
                                                                                                                       
I can tell you firsthand that it wouldn't have been possible without a very special group of people.  One of them in particular was my very first real cycling mentor.  She taught me that it was ok to push yourself to the next level, that it was ok to ride with the guys - that it was ok to ride with new people, even.

It is because of her that I am attempting this.

And this.

So. 

Let the games begin.

All of them.

Kickin' Off 2012!

Welcome to 2012 and the first blog entry of the year! 

How was your New Year's Eve?  Mine was . . . . . boozy.  In my 20s, I could knock back quite the cocktail, but now that I'm - well, not 20-something anymore - not so much.

Ever heard that toast may all your joys be pure joys, and all your pain, champagne?  There's a reason pain and champagne are in there so close together.  (I don't normally get champagne hangovers, but I don't normally drink that much of it, either.)

OK, so now that I have confessed my sins, you'll be proud to know that I've also done my penance: 30 windy miles in the little chain ring. 

Remember my new version? MAJsicle 2012?  As little as I party anymore, 2012 will be filled with even less partying.  Why? Because that's not what The New MAJ Would Do.  I have some big plans/goals for this year, and getting White Girl Wasted (even once a year) isn't in there. 

In the past, MAJ would work on New Things.  MAJ would try something crazy.   MAJ would see how long she could go.  Well, in 2012, it's all about changing it up.  So I'm working on getting FASTER at things I've already done and toning up to look more like an athlete.

The first part of the year is my off-season.  As I gear back up for training,  and start working on SPEED, I will be doing shorter, faster things. 

1. First, a crit (to say I did one), because even though it is crazy and new, it will help my speed training. 
2. I'm also going on a tri-specific strength plan.  I will be hitting the weights to try to cut my body fat drastically between now and March. 
3. Then, to train for Florida 70.3, the Tour de Mom for the American Diabetes Association. 
4. Also would like to do a 5k (to try to do one in somewhere between 25 and 28 minutes)
5. The 70.3 itself, hopefully in 6:30 or so.
6. I won't have the cash to do many summer races, but if I do, they'll be short and cheap.

Like I said, SPEED is my focus.  I am trying to learn how to go hard or go home.

Some side goals:

1. Swim 120,000+ yards
2. Ride 70 miles + per week
3. Run 10+ miles per week

The final part of the year is endurance.  Since I have to flip back to endurance for marathon training, I may do another century.  We'll see.  My goal marathon is NYC; if I don't get in to NYC I'll aim for Marine Corps.  I don't know what my marathon goal will be - it will depend on the year. Maybe to get a sub-5 marathon under my belt.  But I am playing that part by ear.

Of course, some of this also depends on another big, scary and exciting event in my life . . . PhD acceptance/rejection letters.  And no, I don't plan on celebrating (or mourning) with anywhere near the level of booze that New Year's included.

As much as I love a good celebration, I am sure I'll figure something out.

Happy New Year!  (or, as I love to say, HAPPY NEW YOU!)

BLINGtastic End to 2011

On Christmas Eve, this showed up at my door. 

It's my special medal for doing two RnR Marathons in one year.  Guess they figure if you're crazy enough to do multiple marathons you deserve some extra bling.  LOVE it! It is my FAVORITE medal!

Then these showed up under the Christmas tree.  For tris . . .

For marathons and halfs (although I have so many halfs, I might need a separate one for those)

I feel like a rock star . . .these suckers are super heavy with all these medals danglin' away.

New Year's Eve is my favorite holiday.  I think it trumps my birthday and Christmas.  And it is no secret that my party life is not huge (especially since I got serious about training.  Have YOU tried running at lactate threshold with a hangover?)  So, this one time a year, I go all out and party like it's 1999.

This year is special.  It's also the 3-year anniversary of my relationship with the B. We've had a lot of ups and downs. It's hard to believe it's been 3 years.  Who knows what is ahead for us.  And, best of all, 4 of my best friends in the UNIVERSE are joining me to celebrate 12/31/11.
 
I have already started planning my attack on 2012.  I will be sharing some of training/MAJsicle plans with you soon enough.  But for now, know that I will be spending my hung-over New Year's Day hanging up my bling and putting away Christmas decorations.  Oh, and let's not forget: eating collard greens and blackeyed peas.  Click here to learn why!
 
Enjoy your last few days of 2011!