Right Where I Need to Be: 2 Weeks, 2 Races, and 1/3 of a PR

It's been a busy few weeks here in MAJland.

The 5-year scan came back.  The same group of lymph nodes that always appears? They appeared again. Especially the big calcified one. So, no real chance I'm meeting NED until it's more certain they're not continuing to grow and increase in numbers.

Next, last weekend I attacked my 3rd Escape From Fort DeSoto Sprint Tri.  This is a notoriously tough race for me. The run is almost 4 miles (they claim it's 3.4, but it's about 3.8), the field is super tough (some very fit athletes use it as a practice race for St. Anthony's), and halfway through the run you go up the steps of the fort, over the fort, and then a solid mile along the beach, which is only partly packed sand.

All in all, it as a wonderful race. The weather was phenomenal. The water was beautiful. I can say with 100% certainty that I could have not gone any harder on the run. I felt so fantastic during the whole thing that I was absolutely sure I'd PRd or placed in the top 10.  I placed about where I did last time, though, (about mid-field). I had a swim PR and matched my bike PR.

(So that's like . . what . . . a 1/3 a PR?)

The main things that limited me from not performing better were the extra weight I'm getting off, the run being tougher than I remembered, and not feeling good.  I could have gone harder on the bike or the swim, but the run was tough enough, so I'd say I did just right with what I had.

For me to say I wasn't feeling good is saying something, too, since I generally don't feel very good.  I'd had a killer bout with bronchitis the week prior, and the day I started to feel recovered, I did one of those things where I jerked the muscle between my neck and head really hard. (Ever done that? I've heard some people call it a "stinger.")  It turned out to be way more than a stinger, though - the muscle pull activated one of the worst migraines I've had in literally YEARS. Today - about two weeks after the pull - I'm still struggling with my usual migraine-associated vertigo and a good ol' headache.

\

Some photos of the past few weeks' hi-jinks.

Also, this past Thursday I also completed another annual IOA Corporate 5k.  I felt pretty terrible and it rained the whole race.  Despite almost pulling out of the race because I felt certain I would pass out two separate times, I pulled it together through the scary parts and slowed it down enough to finish 3.18 miles in 30:45 (a 9:40 pace.) I took a few extra days off after that race and having to place a rescue call during a 4-miler (made it 2 and change). 

So....no PRs at either race.  At least not by time.

But I think I still set some personal records this week.

I looked back at some old race pictures and thought about some old race days.  Even though I'm 20-30 pounds thinner, I don't look much different.  You'd think that'd be a drastic difference looks-wise, but it's not. For me to run a 9:40 pace during one of the worst days I've had in one of the worst few weeks I've had recently is nothing short of miraculous.  I remember when I'd die to maintain an 11:40 pace when I was feeling GOOD!

It's how I feel that is drastically different.  Yes, I'm still socially awkward (more on that another day), I still don't like my inner thighs, and (at this moment) I'm about 8 pounds heavier than my body's favorite weight (and my closet), but even on the worst of days I outrun me on some of my old best days.

And every time I think oh, I should go half Iron again, I think about how nice it is to have a social life (Epcot Flower and Garden Festival, above), take time off for being sick, and still run a single-digit-per-mile pace in the rain while fighting fainting. And a bunch of mystery lymph nodes.

I am right where I need to be.

And man, does that feel good.

(And so does being $325 to my $1000 goal for AKBTC!)

A New Era Begins . . . Forward Motion Ensues

During the hardest times of training and racing, when it feels like I'm moving at Mach Negative 16, or when another runner is struggling, I will often say this to myself or my struggling counterpart:


Any forward motion is progress.


The idea here: speed is unimportant.  Mileage is unimportant.  The goal/finish line will still be there waiting for you.  It's not going anywhere - but you are.  You're moving forward - and thus towards it.  This is something I have also learned to apply to my personal life.

This has really been one of the most meaningful, fulfilling, and challenging weeks of my life.  I feel so positive about all the progress I've made.

You'll notice I said positive, meaningful, fulfilling and challenging - not GOOD, GREAT, SATISFACTORY, etc.  That's because part of the progress I've made is in re-teaching myself not to label things and judge them.  I've blogged before about undertaking this effort, almost a year ago - and, here I am, having merely planted the seed with that first blog entry, making some REAL, honest-to-goodness, forward motion with it.

CHA-ching!  (That's the emotional cashbox ringing as I fill it with positive currency.)

I've also managed to switch from updating my status on FB/Twittter every few hours to about once a day, sometimes going days without touching it.  And I have not checked in anywhere, given gratuitous information about my whereabouts, etc. - basically, I halted all the behaviors that were annoying me.   (Although Twitter doesn't give me the same aggravated feeling as FB, because a lot of the people I follow on Twitter are celebs, and they're just good for laughs.)

HUGE change in my overall outlook/feelings of happiness though.  The more space I had from FB, the better I felt: free, happy, relieved, etc.  So I decided to check out what some of my friends were doing today and see what happened.  (Yeah, real smart, I know.)  As soon as I went on and read status updates for the first time in over a week, once again, it aggravated me.

But, I learned something about it (that it still annoys me).  So - forward motion is still progress.  I am still debating just deactivating my account altogether.

Fresh Eating is going AWESOME.  In my first week, I dropped back down 3-4 pounds to my 'triathlon training' weight, even though I have only been training about 5 hours a week.  Best of all, I feel great.  Basically, I just cut the majority of sugars and refined carbs from my diet and returned to my super-healthy roots.  I had a few beers this weekend, and twice during the week I had products with white flour, but for the most part it's whole grains, beans, veggies out the ass (literally), and so much lean, lean protein that even my little protein-craving heart feels satisfied.

Typical breakfasts are protein smoothies with spinach, fruit and flax, oatmeal with flax, bee pollen and/or wheat germ, and egg whites.  Typical lunches are canned tuna and greens, lean chicken breasts on whole wheat buns with salads with minimal dressing, or piles of fresh steamed and raw veggies with lean beef, egg whites, chicken, or fish.  Sometimes I'll have tofu, beans, or veggie burgers instead of meat.  Lots of water and unsweetened green tea.  I even got to visit the health food store this weekend - first time in YEARS - and made beans from scratch like I used to.

And the coolest thing next to feeling GREAT?

NO.  COUNTING.  CALORIES.
NO.  COUNTING.  POINTS.

^What this teaches a former disordered eater is that food is about FUEL, not ANGUISH.  (Again, I'm learning to drop labels . . . am I allowed to progress this much in a few weeks??!?!?)  And when fresh isn't super-available, I just make the smartest decisions I can.  Like when the guys dragged me to a burger joint that only had burgers on Saturday and I had a veggie burger with loads of veggies instead.  Did I snitch some fries?  You bet your ass I did.  But overall, just being aware of looking for the last-processed food keeps you from going overboard.

It's about being healthy.  Weight loss is a secondary, although pleasant, effect.

Math, like food, used to be my enemy.  My GRE score once prevented me from applying to my PhD program.  But thanks to a lot of hard work with my tutor, I am knocking down some serious barriers.  I'm almost guaranteed a higher score this time, and I feel outstanding about my math skills.  (Compare this to several months ago, when I actually told a friend I thought I was one of the dumbest people on earth.)

As far as my other academic progress, I hit another major milestone in my SIOP research this week and I have a RARE BREAK right now where I can spend the next week working only on my OWN work, not student assignments or research.

My home is finally sold after too long on the market, and although I feel sad about selling it so close to buying, it is definitely for the best and I am excited about the next chapter as well as the relief of not having the responsibility.

So, everything seems to be falling together very nicely.

A new era in my life began this week . . . and forward motion ensued.

Running

I can rest one more day if I like. I went BALLS OUT, So I May.

After the race Saturday, I discovered a few things about where I can go from here. I know what I'm capable of, too: the times I posted this weekend were better than, or comparable to, my times at 5-20 pounds lighter. That means, as I keep losing weight, I'm only going to get faster. It means, not only can I place in the top 30% of my age group this year, I can do better if I work hard.

But I also know what I need to work on.

1. On the swim: just keep swimming! As long as I'm getting in those drills and focusing on my form and getting out into the ocean regularly, I'll improve. The swim is a slow road (as many wiser, more experienced athletes always tell me.)


2. On the bike: consistent pace across terrain/wind, and training in higher heart rates.


3. On the run: training in higher heart rates . . . . and??!?!? WTF.

I looked over my running history this weekend, and I realized that I've gotten SLOWER over the last 5 years, and nothing's gotten me back to my PR paces. My first Half Mary was my fastest, and I haven't run a 10.5/mile 5k in about 2 years. I used to dream of 9's, but at this point I would flip backwards to run a 12-minute mile.

So, I've chosen my run-focused plan correctly . . . . now to make it work for me.

That's gonna be the fun part.

PCFR, Day 3 - Shitty Run

Here's an elevation graph of yesterday's run.








Today's run was just . . . shitty. Here, in no particular order, are the reasons it pissed me off:

1. It rained on me halfway through. Being that I was wearing a Moving Comfort bra and a silky-smooth Dri-Fit tee, I was a poster child for nipple-itis. It rained yesterday, but the tee I wore wasn't so smooth.
2. Because of the rain, I only made it about 2.5 miles (see graph)
3. I walked a LOT of it.
4. I was sore from yesterday's strength workout. Yesterday's strength workout was wuss-tacular.
5. My legs felt like lead. Once I did get them to cooperate . . .
6. My lungs and heart were not working with me. My heart rate wouldn't settle and my breathing was off.
7. My breakfast was a little too heavy.

Just for comparison, to the right is a graph of the usual elevation on a 3.8-mile run at home.

More later.

Can I Get a Do-Over?

I'm sitting here tracking Wes at IM FL. WOOHOO!!! GO WES! He's already had a very sweet swim time.

The good thing about blogging? It keeps you honest.
The bad thing about blogging? It keeps you honest.

I'm struggling with some cognitive dissonance. Cognitive dissonance: when we have two conflicting ideas that make us uncomfortable. Today's case? Getting dinner and running a 5k the next day. Dinner at 8:30pm, alarm set for 6am - not a big deal, this is only a 5k, not a Half Ironman. Until somehow dinner turns into hanging out and the next thing you know it's 3am. And that's really NOT the way I planned it. I honestly wanted to just go home after dinner.

Normally I would blow this off. I did throw this race on the schedule just to have something on there. But I've been doing so good - with life, work, training, resting, studying - and I figured I'd rock this race. I know this is really ridiculous and I'm probably being way too hard on myself, but I think there was a part of me that didn't want to do the race, that was afraid it would suck, that hates 5ks, and that was really afraid Al would beat me. I've never let that part of me win before, and today it won. There have been times that I've been talked into going out before a long run and I was able to moderate myself and still get up and perform. But I've never flaked out on a race. I've never let that part of me win before, either.

As luck would have it, Al would have made me look like a total ass. He ran his first 5k in 27:xx.

That's an 8:56min/mile.

His FIRST RACE EVER.

Yeah, there's no way I could have kept up with that.

/pity party

I'm gonna put on my big girl panties and deal with it. I'm off to get groceries, try to clean the house a little and tomorrow I'll do my LSD run. Because one bad day does not a bad week make, and one bad week does not a bad year make.

Just Call Me Murphy, Part 3

Last year I had a lot of physical issues {outside my illnesses}: shin splints, glute pulls, IT band woes. A lot of this was because I was a toe runner; some of it was because I have one leg longer than the other. (We all do - mine is pretty noticeable, though. And while it's no HUGE deal, it makes a difference in my running stride and cycling stroke.) In an effort to correct everything, I taught myself to relax, lean back more and focus on not striking on my toes. I was SO SURE this year that I knew ALL my strengths and weaknesses to a T. Strengths: endurance, persistence, muscles, good run form, decent cycling, good running backgroud. Weaknesses: sprinting, force, speed, swimming, hills, illnesses.

HA.

Well, when I corrected myself last year, guess what happened? I'm now a hard-core heel-striker with a lazy right leg (that's always been the case, partly due to the length difference, but I never knew it was so bad). Just like I overtrained last year, and was SO determined this year not to overtrain that I UNDERTRAINED. Murphy's Law of Perceived Athletic Progress. Apparently, my running form is NOT good AT ALL:. I've been told that my gait is horrible and I run "like I have a stick up my butt." Ok, so that part is hilarious!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This got me thinking a lot, and of course it got me down. I'm having more and more consistent weeks as I teach myself how to push through my bad days, and I feel like I'm making a lot of progress. But with progress also comes information that isn't necessarily flattering: after all, we can't progress without leaving something behind, so we typically have to come face-to-face with one of our worst habits and confront it in order to move ahead. And for me, it never fails that, every time I think I'm making progress, I'm actually regressing.

So, remember that horrorscope on Friday about tossing out the way I've been thinking the past 10 years? I think I'm gonna sack up and do it. Because I think the bigger problem here is not whether I'm progressing or not: it's that I'm thinking about it too much. And I'm whining about it too much. I have soooo many posts where I'm just crying, crying, crying about how sick and tired I am. I should be just getting out there and doing my thing. Thinking about that moment and what I am doing and feeling in that moment. Analyzing what I'm doing and what progress I'm making every single day isn't going to help me - because all it's making me do is stress out about the little details and lose track of what I'm really good at: the big picture. And that takes me back to what my dad always said to me when I stressed out about the little details: how do you eat an elephant?

Well, DUH - one bite at a time.

I have a lot of work to do before I can be a better triathlete. Elephant-sized work. But the elephant is going to get eaten, as long as I keep biting. So I need to stop worrying about the elephant's size, stop checking to see how much more elephant there is to eat, and just concern myself with taking little bites every day. Otherwise, the elephant is going to eat ME. (And God knows there's not room on Dirty Jobs for an episode about the effects of Meggan Ann consumption on an elephant's GI system. Besides, Mike Rowe is pretty hot, and I'd hate to meet him while climbing out of a steaming pile of elephant poo.)

I'm Starting A New Trend: The Reverse PR

What a classic Greek race weekend. By Greek I mean tragedy and comedy. I'm actually laughing at a lot more now than I was yesterday. In fact, I've even created a separate blog on the comedy - it's all about The Mystery Chafe. (Read that if you want a quick giggle instead, because this report will be LONG).

I was still hungry at 10pm the night before the race, so my husband and I shared some food. (Yes, he actually came with me, although we slept like brother and sister - not touching, different sides of the bed. Anyway, moving on - that'll turn into a blog of its own if I let it.) The hotel had a sleep mask and a sound CD, though, as well as a memory foam bed. It was WONDERFUL. I'm one of those prissy sleepers that likes a sound machine and a sleep mask. (Trust me, if you ever have EDS, and you're tired enough to sleep all day long, you'll understand that there is NO value that can be placed on a great and luxurious sleep at night, when you're actually supposed to be sleeping).

5am came early, and everything was going along as planned (quick shower, make coffee) until I realized I don't have my timing chip. "Shit, shit, shit!" I yelled, running into the bathroom where Mr. MAJ was. "You need to HUSTLE. It's almost 5:30am and I need extra time to pick up a timing chip. I forgot mine."

(HOW long have I been doing this??? Thankfully, he didn't ask. By the way, I never got my damn coffee!)

So we hustled. I think I saw Clint from the Higdon Forums, but I wasn't sure. I didn't want to walk up to some random dude and start a conversation (although, later, I did exactly that.) Got there in plenty of time for a Clif bar, half a Power Bar, some Powerade, my energy drink, some water, and a warmup. Except that it rained on me the whole time and I was already soaked by the time the race started. The handful of salt pills I had stashed in my back pocket (yes, I also forgot a Ziploc for those) was melted together from the rain and I decided to just down all 4 before the run. (Considering that it was 100% humidity and I have low BP, this is never a bad thing for me.) At some point Al just went and waited in the car. I felt really good during my warmup, though. At one point I ran to the car and stuck my head in to tell him, "I sooooo got this!"

But seriously. I did. I mean, I was going to be out there about HALF the time I spend on a triathlon. Right? I was ready. I was even wearing my little necklace that says Life is What You Make It. Which I kept re-adjusting during the race to remind myself.

I started out feeling really comfortable, on track for an 11 min/mile pace (about my goal since my 5k race pace is 10 and change and I have been regularly running 10min miles in my 5-10 mile training runs). My only real goal, though: beat last year's race, my first 1/2, by any amount of time. But I have short, quick strides, and right away I got a little too into the marines yelling their cadence, somehow got into their long strides and wasted a little energy. I knew this when people were already passing me on mile one, even though I'd slapped myself onto the very tail of the pack. Then I ran into this guy named Al (yes, REALLY!!) who was really cool and we talked through the first 5 miles. I'm not sure if his pace threw me off or if he helped me because he distracted me. he lost me At mile 5 I let myself get mentally psyched out by the water kids who were like "Great, you're the last one," when I came by. I glanced behind me to see if anyone was there and there were at least 10 people. "LIAR!" I yelled at them as I ran off.

Almost no walking, not even through water stations. Almost no chafing (except the aforementioned Mystery Chafe.) I was still looking good by mile 9 with about 50 minutes left to comfortably run the remaining 4 miles. Then, just after the last hill, where the mile 11 sign was posted, I passed a group of spectators standing by Hooters cheering. "One more mile to go!!!" they were yelling at everyone. I looked down at my watch, which told me I could lope along and still PR by 10 minutes. "One more mile?" I yelled. "Are you trippin'?" They yelled back, "NO!"
One more mile? Shit, I got this. PR City. I put on some hustle.

They were wrong.

I still had almost 2 miles left. I passed mile 12 and I wanted to cry. There's no way I could get to 13.1 in the 6 minutes I had remaining. I had even slowed to chat with a dude who seemed to be struggling, trying to pep him up. "I've been trying to catch you for 12 miles!" I told him. At mile 10, my right arch had really started to hurt, so by this point I was so disheartened I just sort of shuffled. I walked for the first real time during the race.I crossed the finish line second to last in my age group and REVERSE PR'D.

Last year I finished 120/144 in 2:45; this year 2:50.
Jax, This Year
#537 412/over 500 77/78 W25-29 2:50:56 2:52:15 13:02
OUC, Last Year
#99 120/144W25-29 1699/1916 overall 2:45:53 2:45:04 12:39.7

Needless to say, I'm not pleased. I have improved all of my run times by over 2 minutes/mile. I was supposed to have my foot issues fixed. Triathlon has made me stronger, more determined and faster. I did take an extended taper and have been sick the past few weeks, but I really feel disappointed by the results. I'm now wondering whether I can hack it at Philly in 6 weeks, or if I should have bothered signing up for FL Half Ironman in May, but I'll wait to make those decisions until the stiffness is gone, and the Mystery Chafe is gone. (By the way, really, really fantastic work by Clint, who finished in about half the time I did.)

So, yeah. Do it, baby. The Reverse PR. It's the hot new thing. Everyone's doing it.

RACE REPORT: The Acccidental Champion

26.2k
The first part of this race report shall be devoted to the V-Team 26.2 k. The weekend's 26.2k report is brought to you via the Hammerhead Olympic Triathlon (aka HOT). My total distance was actually 51.5k, but 51.5/2=25 and change, and I warmed up for an additional couple of kilometers, so can we call it "two loops" of 26.2k? I think so. Also, I think there were exactly 262 finishers. As Hal says, what's a dot between friends?

Race Info
This was quite a small race compared to my usual events, but ran very well. The swim is in beautiful Kingsley Lake on Camp Blanding National Guard Training Center. It's one of those crystal-clear lakes so RARELY found in Florida - you can see all the way to the bottom, nearly to the second buoy of the 1.5k swim. The race was supposed to start at 7:30am, but fog was so thick you could barely see the first buoy, so the RD wisely opted to delay start until 8am. The bike is almost completely flat, with 2 or 3 very small hills. And the run is also almost completely flat, except for one nice steep hill right around mile 4. As the name leads you to believe, it is HOT'r'n'hell. Temps today got up to 91 degrees, but are typically 5-8 degrees higher. Aid stations on the run are nearly every mile, offering gatorade, water, ice cold wet sponges, and even gels at mile 4 at the top of said hill.

Pre-Race
I was number 77. Originally I was 306, but for some reason they changed me to 77. Now, I must tell you that I am EXTREMELY superstitious when it comes to sports. Almost abnormally superstitious. The lower the race number I have, the better I seem to do. I know, I know - lower race numbers usually mean you registered earlier, which means you have more time to preapre. But the last really long race I ran was the OUC Half Marathon and I was number 99 - despite IT band injuries and illnesses that kept me from training, I did quite well. So here I was with number 77. I was convinced it was a sign. Add that to the fact that my parents, husband and race mentor were all there - for the first time. My husband has only ever been to one race, and my parents and Dawn, never.

Race Goals
This was my first Olympic triathlon, but it was my 5th (4th finished) tri. This was the longest race I have ever done next to my half marathon. Now, some may say, with all my health conditions, competing in endurance races is not a wise idea. But I firmly believe racing keeps me alive. So I shot for a race time of 4hours. I figured it would break down like this:

• Swim: 40 minutes (originally my goal was 45 but I got gutsy)
• Bike: 2hrs
• Run:1:1

If I was lucky, this would put me at a total of just under 4 hours. Here's what REALLY happened.

Race Day
I'm up at 4:30am. I get to transition in perfect time to get racked, do a warm up bike, run, and swim, stretch a little, pee several times, eat a Clif bar, two bananas, and a 24-oz bottle of Clif Shot. A little coffee and some 5-hour Energy and I'm good to go.

Swim
I love the swim. It's my favorite part. I am a slow but very strong swimmer. Swim never intimidated me when I started doing triathlons. The race start, however, is delayed until 8am because of the fog; fine, just leave me out in the sun longer (but really a wise decision by the race director when I think about it.) I'm in the water with the Clydesdales, Athenas, relay and military. I hang out near the edge/side as always, and am the last one to get going (as always). But, as I slide into the water, I get my rhythm quickly. I'm breathing well, my heart rate's good, I am swimming almost perfectly straight. And something weird happens. The farther I go, the more people I pass.

I pass one girl from my wave. Then two. Then a guy. Then another girl. Then another girl. Then another guy. Next thing you know, I pass two people from the wave before me. Then I pass two people from the wave before that. Then I pass one guy from the FIRST WAVE. I keep glancing at my watch. My hopes for an under-40 minute swim are long gone, but before I know it, I'm pulling up to the dock, where my mom is shouting GO MEGGAN, and I'm running out of the water ahead of at least a dozen people. Apparently, I'm the fastest of the lastest. Can't really see my watch because my contacts are floating, but seems to say 40 minutes as I get out of the water. I feel awesome. I am more than ready for the ride. Especially since it's flat and I've trained on some of the toughest hills in the state. My flat race pace is about 15-17 (I thought it was 16-18, but my averages were wrong).

Bike
Everyone is cheering for me. Since we were the last wave, there are few bikes on racks. This makes me nervous until I remember we were the last wave. This feels like my fastest T2 yet: as I'm running in from the water, I'm already rehearsing my strategy: helmet, shades, bike, shoes, GO! First 20k loop and I'm off - I keep exactly to my strategy, sucking down 2 gels and going through 24oz of water, carefully building my speed. Second loop - I put on some hustle. I must be going really slow, though, because there's no one around me. I'm nervous but I keep hustling. I have to pee, and I finally get a moment alone to pee - a little - on the bike. Weird experience. I couldn't relax enough to pee all the way. I keep looking behind me to relieve some pressure about being passed, and to make sure no one's seeing me pee.

Second loop - I'm on to bottle #2 and a few bites of my Organic Food Bar. I barely choke them down. I am on kilometer 26.2 and solid food and I are not friends. Then, on some rough road, I lose one of my brand new Polar insulated bottles. Crap. I really needed that bottle. I just took salt pills, which I also lost the rest of. And I just bought that bottle. Oh well - part of my swag was a HOT branded Polar bottle, so maybe this was meant to be. I take my race number belt off my handle bars and tuck it into my shorts so it's already on me. By the time I come around the final corner, I'm already out of my shoes and gloves. I'm feeling fabulous, albeit a bit queasy from the salt pills and gels. Apparently, I am still the fastest of the lastest. I glance down at my watch. 2 hrs 26 minutes. I have about an hour and a half to make my goal, so it looks like I'll be finishing in 3:40-3:45. I am overwhelmed.

Run
Ahh, the run. The great crapshoot. Some jackass racked his bike wonky, so I struggle a little racking mine, but still feel fast. I already have my race belt on, so I slide into my powdered shoes and socks, tie up and go. I clip my race belt and slap on my visor as I head out. It's all down hill from here, I think. And downhill it was. On my warmup run, the calves/shins didn't seem bad, but now they are giving me hell. I try to run it out, slowly but surely, all the way through mile 1. Around mile 2, a severe, dull pain has crept up my right leg from my calf. Now my calves don't cramp - instead the pain is all the way up to my butt, shooting into me with every heel strike. I stop to pee because I never peed all the way on the bike. Gatorade, water - should have grabbed some darn sponges, but I didn't till I passed the halfway point. It actually hurts worse when I walk, but the sun is so bad I am forced to stroll several times. The pain is all the way into my lower back now. I pass Ironman Dawn on her way back. I cheer her on. She looks miserable. I feel worried.

This run feels like it's never going to end. I forgot to sunscreen my face and there are no clouds like the weatherman promised. Most of the water I'm drinking is getting poured all over me. I'm now as wet as I was on the swim, and I'm chugging down Gatorade at every aid station, running through most of them. I start grabbing sponges at every station, sticking them into my bra straps so they cool me and I can lay my face on them, saving them until I really need to squeeze the rest of the water over me. Everyone behind me has now passed me except for a very few - my advantage is almost totally gone. I think I may throw up, but I keep focusing on my keywords, thinking positive. The sooner I get through this, the sooner the pain ends. The fact that I have run much longer races than this, at much faster paces, sticks in my mind, and I keep running through the pain. I might be able to make my goal if I push.

Then, at mile 4, the hill from hell approaches. Another person passes me. I hate, hate HATE being passed on hills. As if the torture of the hill isn't bad enough. Thankfully the grade isn't bad - it's a long slow climber. I glance down at my watch, as I have been repeatedly, and realize I'm actually getting slower. I doubt I can pull off a 22-minute 2.2-mile now, but that's what it would take to do the run in 1:17 or so. My hopes at this point are not high - this is the worst I've felt all race. My heat-exacerbated medical conditions are starting to flare up. I'm slightly rejuvenated at the top of the hill when they ask me if I want a Gu and there's a cheering section. I tell them I love them, take a Gu, a gatorade, a water, and two icy sponges. 2 miles to go.

The Finish
The two ladies behind me have now passed me. I am dead last. On the run. Again. Because of my stupid legs. Again. I'm going to kill my physical therapists. The girls make friends and start to talk. I chit chat with them for a bit, but I'm in so much pain all I can think of is getting done. Amazingly enough, despite the heat and my natural dehydration problem, I have saved a little bit for the last 1.5 miles. I surge past them. They keep walking. Mile 5 comes. I glance behind me. They're a little farther. Mile 6 comes. The girls behind me are now jogging. I'm in trouble - one of them is 6 feet tall, and her race walk is faster than my run. I see my parents just past the 6 mile sign. As I pass, I whisper to my mom, "I don't want to be last, but I don't know if I can do it." She yells, "YES YOU CAN! There are like 15 people behind you!" I can't believe that there are 15, but for some reason her words are enough to keep me moving.

I really am going to puke soon. The girls behind me are gaining on me. I hear my mom yell, "COME ON SWEETIE, YOU CAN DO IT! Pick 'em up and lay 'em down!" I start to near the cones and I dig down from somewhere really deep and I pull out a full-on sprint, leaving them no chance of catching me. A cop pours water over my head after asking my permission. I want to kiss him but I hold back and go stand under the sprinklers for a few minutes. I can barely walk.

I finish in 3:53:17.

After hobbling and chatting for a few minutes, Dawn comes back. She is changed and getting ready to go to breakfast with her family. She was going to go run with me. We look at my time. "I finished 2nd in my clss," I tell her. "I don't care," she says. "You finished. Now go get your award!" she says. I get an award? She missed an award by one place, but her time was over an hour less than mine. How is this possible?

I hang around for a while, and I hear the Athena results being announced. They're giving the Clydes age group awards 5-deep, but the Athenas only get 1st pace awards. I'm TICKED but I never really expected an award for a time so slow. "1st Place Athena in her age group," says the announcer, and I expect the other girl to be announced. But the guy says, "Meggan Johnson." I almost crap myself. I look all "Academy Awards speech" - you know, big eyes, open mouth, silently asking, "ME??" But I go up to get the award. And then I start crying a little. I keep telling my family, "But I'm not that fast."

As it boils down, I was the 2nd to last finisher. I don't know where the 15 behind me were, unless they dropped out. Somehow, the 2nd to last finisher won an award. Of all Athenas, I was 3rd, so I would have gotten an award even if they did overall, but there were only 4 Athenas. Eventually I stop caring. This is my first award. At my first Olympic race. And it's FIRST place. And I just bet my initial goal time by 37 and a half minutes, and my revised goal by 6 and a half.

PLACE: 2
OVERALL: 261
#77 Meggan Johnson 28 Orlando FL
TOTAL: 3:53:17
1.5k SWIM: 43:37 (3:37 slower than goal)
T1: 2:14 - my fastest T1 yet
40k bike: 1:38:20 (my fastest long-distance bike, 22 minutes faster than my goal)
T2: 1:31 (my second fastest T2)
10k run: 1:27:36 (10 minutes slower than goal)


Three heart arrythmias. Vertigo. Two leg injuries. One award.

Just call me the accidental champion.

Currently listening :
Lenny Kravitz Greatest Hits
By Lenny Kravitz
Release date: 24 October, 2000

Race Week/Week 6:....all I want is an AVERAGE workout.

Yep, you heard it. Not stellar. Not depressing. Just AVERAGE.

This morning I went out to run 7 miles easy. I had to count half of my warm-up mile because it was taking me so long to finish. It took me about 1hr 20xxx minutes to go 6.46 miles. Both legs were cramping and hurting, especally ol' righty. How is this possible when I just ran a comfortable 3mi race and a stellar PR on Sunday, and when my "easy but fast" running pace is 10-11 minute miles? My only comfort is that my pattern usually goes: early-week run sucks, mid-week run is better, end-of-week run is GREAT! So hopefully by Sunday I'll be warmed up and have my crappy run out of the way, and it will be smooth(er) sailing from there.

And that really illuminates two of my weaknesss: mindset and planning my own training. Planning my own training will have come over the years. There's a lot to think about - BTs and weight workouts and thresholds and crashing and peaking and building and intensity and volume and the list goes on and on. So, for right now, I'll just follow someone else's plan (someone more experienced) with a few tweaks of my own.

But mindset is something I could work on immediately. For example, my lack of consistency could be corrected. Constantly going from great workouts to horrible without much consistency is a key indicator that I lack some mental component, probably confidence or focus. Let's face it, I can use both of those in my every day life, not just my tri-life.

WEEK 12, DAY 2: PT Recap and Run. Run? How about walk?

PT last night went good. It doesn't seem to hurt as bad in the evening as it does first thing in the morning. (Of course, I got to go home and take a nap beforehand and I was all hopped up on iced tea, so that might have meant something.) I got specific instructions from the therapist, though: no cobblestone and no hills.

No hills? ACK! There are at least 2 little hills on every one of my routes. And the 5k I'm running on Saturday will almost certainly have some cobblestone. Well, at least I can control my 5 and 10-mile runs during the week. I wasn't really looking forward to planning my run this morning as it was certain that I was going to have to repeat legs of my route to keep it flat. But I want this stinking leg to heal, dammit.

15x2 each side:
stationary lunges, hip extension on machine, side hip extension on machine
rotations on balance board (25x2 each leg)
lying hamstring stretch (3x30 sec)
lying quad stretch (3x30 sec)
calf stretch (3x30sec)
calf/foot exercise on wobble board - 30 on each ankle
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My shift started at 10 today, and I was up well before 7. My plan was to run my 10 while I'm "fresh" and do my 5-miler on Thursday. I took two salt pills, stretched, tied on a bandana, Bodyglided my thighs like there was no tomorrow, and even slapped on my Fuel Belt and took some extra salt pills with me. And then I stepped out the door. It was like stepping into soup. My first thought - I couldn't even control it: I have to run 10 miles in this?!!

It got worse. As I got down the driveway, I saw a piece of my bike rack lying on the ground, one of the little screws. My bike rack? Nowhere to be found. Great. My bike rack's been stolen and I have to run 10 miles in soup on a pair of legs that, just 2 days ago, wouldn't go 2 miles. (Did I say soup? Make that STEW.)

I really didn't think I was going to make it past my warm-up mile, which took me around 17 minutes. I felt sure my legs were going to fall off. I couldn't even get to that point where I just sort of go numb and keep going (aka the "who needs to think when your feet just go" moment, which for me happens once around mile 3 and again around mile 10). I also had to come back to the poolhouse and pee before I went out to mile 2. By the time I peed, it was 7:25am. I don't know if it was mental or physical, but I felt like there was no way I could make it. Ok, who am I kidding - it was mostly physical, but I've run through discomfort like this before to the tune of 7, 9, 14 miles. But time was now also against me - there was no way I'd make it 10mi and get to work on time. I'm late places a lot because of my training, but this would have been ridiculous. Still, I went back out. Let me at least make it one mile.

I didn't make it running, but I made it running/walking (we'll call it hobbling for honesty's sake). I hobbled down the street past my one-mile mark. If I turn around now, that's three miles. I'll count my warm up mile. And then I hobbled to the two-mile mark. If I turn around now, that's four miles. I'll count my warm up mile and I can call this my 5-miler.

SOLD!

So that's what I did. 17:07 mi/mile for mile 1 and 13:30 and change per mile for miles 2-4. My husband text messaged me while I was getting ready for work . . . turns out he took the bike rack off last night to keep it from getting stolen. Fine. I made it 5 fragmented miles and my bike rack wasn't stolen. I went to the office and wrapped an ice pack around my shin with an Ace bandage for a good half hour.

My therapist tells me it is very common for injuries to feel worse during the first few weeks of therapy because you're "waking up" muscles you have either been using incorrectly or not using. All I know is, the "worse before it gets better" period better be over by August 26.
__________________________________________________________
In other news, I found out a few days ago that my triathlon mentor, Ironman Dawn, will be racing with me at Hammerhead!!! I say with me in a very liberal sense of the word. She's about twice as fast as I am. Her last Olympic time was well under 3 hours. So she'll be done, oh, an HOUR before me. But it's cool that she'll be there.

WEEK 11/4, Day 1: My next cell phone will be VERY small

So, remember how I wouldn't work out yesterday afternoon because I knew the heat index was over 100, even higher then than it was in the morning? Somehow I completely forgot that this afternoon when I decided I'd shuffle my schedule so I could fit all my madness in. I seemed to remember everything, including to take my salt pills(Gus don't settle so well with my tummy), bring a water bottole, plan my route through shade and by water fountains and clean bathrooms, and a well-known distance. And my muscles and lungs felt stronger than they had in months. But I forgot sunscreen, didn't body glide enough, and the heat got me. Not even 2 miles in, I started to get feverish chills and nausea. Great. I have 7 more miles to go.

I hustled to Publix to pee and refill with cold water, hustled to get to the shade, took my second dose of salt pills almost halfway in, but it was too late. I was DONE. I honestly thought I was going to die. I almost called my husband, but I didn't bring my cell (it's a PDA phone and it's too bulky; I already had a water bottle and my armband and my keys and ID and salt pills in my pocket.) So I did my best, shuffling, run-walking, even had to dead stop a couple times. I was so disoriented that I was running at a higher pace just to get through the run, I kept forgetting to hit "split", I kept forgetting to re-start my Nike+ tracker, and when I got to my "halfway point" (4.5 mi), at the park exit, I forgot that the park was only 3 mi from home and I still needed to add some more mileage to make it 9.

I struggled all the way back, another stop by Publix for the water fountain, and 5 16-oz water bottles and 1:50 minutes later, I finally creep home, thinking I've done it, I've made it my 9 miles - and then a re-check on Gmap Pedometer and the GPS in my car reveals . . . . just over 7 miles. (Stop reading here if you're sensitive about political correctness.) I told Al, "This is God's wrath for me not making my planned workout on Sunday."

I did 8 miles last week and it was LOVELY, but try to do under 8 today and it blew chunks. It just goes to show you that some days you're the shit, and some days you're just shit. I am very shocked that, with all that, I still managed to only slow down to 13:33/mi average.

Well, at least Meggan learned a couple lessons from this . . . .

1. Plan workouts first thing in the morning or after 6. It's better to be out while it's a bit dark than die of heat stroke.
2. SUNSCREEN, SUNSCREEN, SUNSCREEN.
3. BODYGLIDE, BODYGLIDE, BODYGLIDE.
4. NOTHING comes in the way of my workouts. Parties, gatherings - oh well! You planned a party, I planned a work out. It's not my fault you have poor planning. :)
5. I'm not obsessive, I'm just committed. Triathlon is a lifestyle. It's one I've chosen because I'm excited and proud and happy and grateful to be able to participate. And I hope to do it till I'm too old to do it any more!

I'm beat. I'm going to bed. The new schedule looks like this:

• Monday: Long run (9mi) since I just had a rest day and I'm fresh
• Tuesday: PT AM; 1.5k drill swim PM (optional)
• Wednesday: PT AM, 15-20mi ride PM
• Thursday: 4mi AM run, 2k swim PM (drills if I missed Tues)
• Friday: PT AM, PM brick (10-15mi ride/3 mi run)
• Saturday: 2k OW swim
• Sunday: 25 mi ride
• Monday: Complete rest

WEEK 8, DAY 5 part 1: WORST RUN OF MY LIFE

My Wednesday morning run was amazing: longest run I've completed since I got sick. 6 miles and change felt like slicing through butter. Didn't go fast (close to a 12 minute mile), but still made the best 10k time I've run yet. So, you would think last night's run would have been simpler, since it was only 4 miles.

Not even close.

I wore my "short run" shoes, which I had done some lacing experiment on, and I had to stop 1.11 miles in to COMPLETELY re-lace them and then start my run over. By the time I re-laced, it had taken me that entire mile to warm up anyway. My calf and, really, everything on my right leg was cramping like CRAZY and I kept having to stop and stretch/walk. Then my shorts were riding up. The wires on iPod all over the place. I had to pee in the middle of the run.

Of course, I didn't count the time I spent peeing, so my actual run time was about 44 minutes. At just over 11 minutes a mile, considering the walking and stretching, I should have been very happy, since my goal for any run over 5k is 10 minute miles, and the fact that I can get to 11 while hurting and walking is very encouraging. I don't even think I went 11 minutes and 4 seconds on my 10k PR run the day before. But I'll take a 12-minute mile and a brilliant run over a shitty fast run any day.

I had to come home and massage my shin/calf/foot, elevate, and of course bitch and moan. For the first time since I've been running (and that's almost 12 years), I actually asked myself, Why am I doing this to myself? I asked myself the same question people like to ask me aaallll the time: why do you run? Why do you race? Why do you do triathlons?

I still don't have an answer, so that means I'm not going to stop.