Hypothesis Proven

So it's been two days since my second crack at Barb's Race half ironman.  My second chance, my second go, my second time racing in the beautiful place I call home.  But this time I got here in an incredibly different way and the results were better then I imagined. 

If you didn't know this already my training going into this race was a complete experiment.  Reading through my race report from my last go around it was clear to me even in retrospect that after that race I was burned out...severely.  I gave up the sport of triathlon entirely for over a year and then only raced short course for the next two years.  I vowed to find a way for that not to happen this time around.  So the experiment began...

First I had to examine what went wrong last time.  I had a great coach, great friends, and the will to work hard...but I didn't have the time.  I tried to pack traditional long course training into a very non-traditional schedule.  I was a full time night shift nurse, I had two small children, I had a husband who needed me, I had a home that needed time/effort, I had friends that valued my time...basically I was busy and my schedulewas abnormal to say the least.  It just didn't work.  I was trying to fit in workouts in between 12 hour night shifts that were just too long or I'd try to move them around to fit better...but with one kid still at home (Addison was only 3) it was impossible to fit all the training into my schedule so I'd end up feeling depressed and defeated by something that others managed to make look easy.  And again, my coach was amazing, but unfortunately if you don't live the married with kids and a crazy night shift job life...you don't entirely understand the demands of it. 

This time around I still have a full time night shift nursing job...I also managed to add in a job as a Naval Reserve Nurse Corps officer...and one as a contract flight nurse.  I have two children who thankfully are no longer small and both in school.  I have a husband who still needs my time.  A house that still needs work (though we did hire a gardener!).  And I still have friends who value me and my time with them.  My demands had actually increased...so how do you figure that out??

You hire your USAT certified mom to be your coach.  She also happens to live with you and knows the details of your schedule and it's unique challenges better then anyone.  You hatch a plan to increase the overall quality of the training and decrease the quantity.  No more crazy long training days...more really, really hard sets on the track, in the pool, and on the trainer.  Double days to maximize time and a whole lot of..."Hey, let's just run with this and see what happens!"

The numbers in training looked good.  I was also playing around with my diet and adopting a more paleo diet based upon the book by The Paleo Diet for Athletes by Loren Cordain and Joe Friel.  It was changing everything...I was dropping inches (not a pound at all!), feeling better, getting faster, and my long term GI issues were resolving as well. 

We were happy...but it remained to be seen how this would hold up on the long course.  The truth was leading into the race that I had yet to complete a workout over 4 hours.  In over a year.  Seriously.  So I honestly wasn't sure if at some point past 4 hours the proverbial wheels wouldn't just fall off and leave me feeling completely flat...but it was time to find out.

We traveled up north on the Tuesday prior to the race and I checked into hotel de Dad (aka my dad and step mom's house with my kiddos).  Mike wasn't able to make it up this year as we had just returned from a vacation to see his family in Tennessee and he was out of vacation days. 

The days leading up the race were filled with family, rest, food, and small/short bits of last minute keeping it loose training.  I felt relaxed, calm, and happy.  I had made it to the start line without burnout or injury.  I still loved the sport and was actually getting excited to race.

Race morning arrived and I woke feeling rested and ready.  I had an 8:36 wave start but still wanted to get there early to get good parking.  I ate 2 slices of dry GF toast (according to the Paleo diet for athletes you do add carbs back in during the time surrounding longer races/training days), and 2 eggs washed down with the Clif Shot powder in water.  I grabbed a banana and Clif Shot gel for later and a cup of coffee for the road.  I had taken my pre race Immodium (if you are an endurance athlete you get this) as well as some Claritin as my allergies were kicking my butt!  I woke up my Sherpa-in-training (my little brother, Danny), and we headed out. 



In a stroke of complete luck we found a parking spot directly across the street from the swim start as someone pulled out of the space in front of us (hello good omen!).  I borrowed a bike pump from a fellow athlete as mine wasn't working and pumped my tires a bit under the recommended pressure since I knew the roads were less then smooth on this course.  We then made our way down to the beach and I quickly set up my transition area...nothing fancy there.  I showed Danny around and he bodymarked me and helped with my sunscreen as I ate the banana.  We watched as the Vineman athletes went off and slowly filtered in.  Then it was time for me to warm up and eat my Clif Shot...a quick run followed by a swim and I was ready.  I said goodbye to my brother and entered the corral with my wave (the last wave of Barb's race athletes).





The Swim (33:32, 1:36/100 yds, 7th in my division):

The water was comfortable, I positioned myself at the front towards the left side, and I took off with a vengeance when the horn went off.  I fought to stay with the leaders until we were a solid distance away from the main field.  I felt awesome.  The only hitch in the swim was the fact that no matter what, if you are a fast swimmer you inevitably end up swimming through other waves.  And here, in the river, those swimmers turn into walkers...suddenly and without warning.  So I spent plenty of energy dodging swimmers and walkers and sighting to see where the next human obstacle was.  But no matter, I finished in a time that was comparable to my training and was a 3 minute PR over last time.  I ran up the ramp, had my wetsuit stripped, and threw my bag of gear to my waiting Sherpa (did I mention yet how awesome he was?!).  I transitioned and didn't even attempt to mount my bike at the bottom of the hill...I just ran up and mounted at the top (lesson learned from last year!).

The Bike:  (3:11:36, 18.0 mph/avg 1st half, 17.5 mph/avg 2nd half, 10th in my division):

The bike has always been my Achilles heel...I've never been the biggest fan.  After a stellar fit by Rachel and the team at Moment Cycle Sport I felt ready to tackle the bike this time around stronger and more comfortable.  Well I WAS stronger and more comfortable...but unfortunately my bike time was 2 minutes slower then last time.  At first I was pretty discouraged by this as my goal was to do 2:45.  But looking at the race times, only 4 women in the entire field went even near that time and only 17 went sub 3 hours.  It was a windy day out there...and I don't know what else...but I felt great nonetheless and know I gave it my all.  I chowed down on half a PocketFuel chocolate espresso, a handful of  custom paleo coconut lemon cream Healthy Bites, and a pack of Honey Stinger chews. I drank water and Clif Shot lemonade.  I took half a banana from one aide station but that was it.  I knew I had made the mistake previously of over eating and I wasn't going to do that this time around.  I played leap frog with a few racers but wisely minded my USAT P's and Q's as I knew marshalls were out on the course and didn't want a penalty hanging over me on this draft happy course.  I came into transition feel strong and actually excited to run.

Run: (1:52:01, approx. 8:30 min/mile avg, 3rd in my division):

I unfortunately had to visit the port-a-potty pre run as I didn't think running with a full bladder was going to benefit me in any way.  Luckily it was a quick stop and I was off.  I knew in training on flatter, coastal (read: cooler) roads I could average nearer to an 8:00 min/mile for the distance.  I wanted to break my half marathon PR of 1:49 but I had set that on a flatter course as a stand alone race (not after a swim and bike)...so I was just ready to roll with the miles and give it my best.  I was thirsty and hot out there in the hills with minimal breezes...so I tried to grab ice when I could and would grab a sip of water at every other aide station.  I also grabbed a few cups of flat Coke and took my first Honey Stinger gel at mile 1 and my second at mile 6.  It was funny because I felt like I was running slower but I would glance at my watch and see that I was indeed running under 8:30's unless I was heading up a hill.  I passed people often and got a lot of comments about how strong I looked...unfortunately responding was not currently in my grasp so I tried to smile when I could.  I didn't really hit any kind of wall until a bit after mile 10...I wanted to lay down and I wanted a tall glass of ice water.  That's all I wanted.  But I knew my family was at the finish and I knew I was doing well...so I sucked it up...said a few words to myself...and kept on trucking. 

Coming into that finish line was beautiful.  I could see my dad, brothers, kids and my brother's girlfriend.  They had the Barb's Race tape up across the line so I actually got to feel like a rockstar and hold it up for a brief moment.  I was quite shaky and wobbly after crossing but so, so happy to be finished and still be happy about the whole experience.  I got my medal and beelined for my family.  Over the next few minutes I found out I had taken 4th in my division.  I had set many goals for myself and one of them was to come in the top 5...mission accomplished...total time 5:43:43 and 4th out of what looks to be 60 women who completed the race in my division.  It was also a 16 minute PR on this course for me.  But more importantly I completed it happily...with plans in my head to race this distance and longer again. 



Hypothesis proven.  You can race this distance on less then the "normal" training volume and still reach goals and do well.  Did I win?  No.  Did I learn many lessons?  Absolutely.  I know I need more time on my bike...and more time in aero.  I need to brick a bit more.  But otherwise I'm beyond happy with the results.

I have so many people to thank now...but overall just a huge thank you to everyone who has supported me, prayed for me, encouraged me, and been there for me.  A huge thanks to my family....without their love and support I would never be able to do this sport that I so love.  And the biggest thanks of all to my Coach Mom...thanks for believing in me when I don't believe in myself.  For your willingness to try something new...for your adaptability...for knowing me so darn well...for keeping me sane...for loving me through it all.  I look forward to our next adventure and experiment. 

As I head into ultra marathon training now and then a large triathlon break due to deployment I'm already excited about the years to come.  I have so many goals and a renewed love for this sport that constantly pushes me to find my limits and push right past them...

Thank you all...

XOXO

Jackie

Dream a little dream (or a big one)

When you have big dreams, what is required to reach them?

I know this is a very personal question in that each person's answer would be slightly different...depending on the person...depending on the dream.

I have many dreams...

Trust me...some of them are scary.

I feel the need to put them out there...to share...so that you, my friends and family, can hold me accountable.  Now these are currently only my athletically minded type dreams...there are many others, but that's fodder for another day and another post.  So here we go...

- To place top ten in my age group at Barb's Race this July (half ironman race)
- If I'm dreaming a bit bigger I'll say top 5
- If I'm going all out and dreaming I'll say I want to stand on that podium...
- To run a PR half marathon on the end of that race (my half marathon current PR is 1:49)
- To run a sub 6 min/mile by the end of the year (PR is currently 6:19)
- To get a score of Outstanding on my October PRT for the Navy (currently at Excellent)
- To be able to do 10 unassisted pull ups in a row (not actually sure how many I can do now)
- To finish a 50K ultramarathon in October


I think that about covers most of it.

So what will it take for ME to get there?

Hard work, perseverance, patience, dedication, determination...and whole lot of time spent suffering.  Thankfully I don't mind the suffering if it's for a good cause.  In fact, it's what I've been doing lately...

That's about it for today...time to head out to track and chip away at those goals...

What are your goals?  How do you plan to reach them?  Do they scare you?....

Jackie

XOXO

Any Given Sunday

It's a phrase my buddy Bex and I started saying often a few years back...

Every race can be great...

Or horrible...

Really, really fast...

Or you can't seem to find your speed at all....

On any given Sunday (since most races are on Sundays).

You never know who will show up to race against you, or what kind of day they will have...geez...you may have stellar training leading up to a race and you might have a painful day out there. 

You can do everything right...and the day unravels in front of you.

Or sometimes....

Just sometimes....

You reach really deep into your gut and pull out a great performance.

And on that given Sunday you did your best...and so did everyone else.

That's how today went.

Today was my 5th time starting the Mission Bay triathlon.  It was my very first race in 2007.  I skipped last year due to some serious overtraining and lack of motivation issues.  But this year, on less training...more fun...and some serious ultrarunning base...I came back to where it all began.  I even had my whole family there for support...and their support really means the world...it was the recipe for a great race... 

I knew immediately that the 25-29 age group women had brought their A game.  The pace on the swim was FAST...girls were pulling away from me (and I've really stepped up my swimming)...but luckily I started to reel them in as I went.  I ended up with a 1 minute PR on the swim and since I didn't wear a wetsuit I had a great T1!

I flew out on the bike and just tried to hold on to a few girls I saw in front of me.  One girl in particular was going just slightly slower...I didn't want her to think I was hanging on her wheel so I passed her and told her I was sure we would leap frog for a bit (she didn't pass me on the bike...but on the run...so we DID leapfrog-ish).  I was passed at mile 2 or 3 by the blazing fast Team CEC's Ashleigh Bordwell (who won our age group by a landslide).  I wasn't passed again until the very end but ended up catching her later.

I came into T2 knowing I had some work to do.  I had a solid bike but it wasn't a PR (at least I don't think it was since official results aren't posted yet).  I changed as fast as I possible could and headed out.

The run was hard...really hard...

And I was only putting down 7:20's (not my fastest but certainly not cruising either).  But they hurt!  Luckily I had my amazing mom there as I headed out yelling to me that I was in 6th place and to pick them off one by one (love her and her belief in my abilities).  I passed the first girl within the first mile...so now I was in 5th.  Then I was passed by the girl I had passed on the bike...she was also in a Catalyst Endurance kit (as were many of the top finishers...seeing as I used to train with them I should probably look into that again...they got some serious results!).  I couldn't hold her...so I just stayed at my pace and looked to the next girl since I was in 6th again.

I passed another girl as we went up the hill after mile 2...and I held that position till the end.  But I never had a moment where I could let up...they were always back there...fast, determined, amazing women.  I had to WORK out there.....

When I race (run specifically) I tell myself over and over that unless I'm fainting or dying I'm not allowed to slow down.  I used to put puke in there but after Oriflamme I had to take that bit out...

So that's was I was doing out there...not giving an inch...thankfully since the next girl was less then 30 seconds back from me!

After I crossed the finish line I dry heaved a bit (enough that they grabbed a garbage can for me...luckily I didn't need it!)...and then walked myself straight to the med tent to fix up a gnarly blister that had bled all over my shoes.  Shockingly I didn't REALLY feel it till I was done.

Mom was there and told me I probably got 4th or 5th (she was almost right on!).

And I was tired...

I found another friend Kaili, who had finished only a few minutes after me...I asked her immediately if she thought the field was super tough today...she agreed...the fast girls were out and we were forced to step up to the challenge.  My A game was good enough for 5th place today...and I couldn't be prouder.

Some people may only feel successful if they win...or place...but not today.

Today I raced my best (and got a 30 second PR in the process)...nothing to be ashamed of there.

Another day...another race in the books...another PR...and I'm happy.

Any given Sunday...you never know what can happen...as long as you try your best it's bound to be great...

XOXO

Jackie

The problem with bananas (the ultramarathon that never was)

Before you start reading here is a huge disclaimer.  If you are faint of stomach stop reading now, I'll give you the Cliff Notes version.  I didn't finish.  I DNF'd.  My stomach hated me and I had to quit.  There ya go.  Stop reading now.
However, if you are curious as to the numerous lessons I learned out there and have at least somewhat of a strong stomach (or are willing to skip over the gross bits) then read on...because what I can say for sure is not finishing taught me more then finishing ever would have.

To start lets go back a bit.  The race was originally supposed to be run on St. Patty's day, March 17th.  As luck would have it San Diego was forecasted for an awful storm that weekend.  A storm like we almost never have...torrential rains, flash flooding, snow.  The race is run through a flood wash and is so remote the choppers needed to get runners out should a major injury occur wouldn't be able to fly.  With this in mind the race director made the wise (although soul crushing) decision to cancel the race.  I called Bex at 6 a.m. with the news.  Even in her sleepy state she was just as stunned as I was.  After a few tears we rallied and became thankful a few days later when they rescheduled to April 7th (luckily I was already off that whole weekend). 

Approximately one week later I came down with Death Cold/Flu 2012.  I haven't been that sick in ages.  I was in bed for 2 full days before I could even think of moving.  And forget eating, that was out of the question as I had no appetite and had an array of GI symptoms to go with my sore throat, cough, stuffy nose, headache, body aches, high fever, chills....well you get the point.  It was awful!  Our whole house was sick...it was almost epidemic in proportion (ok, maybe a little dramatic, but it was bad). 

Because of this my 2 weeks pre first 50K (aka 31 miles on mountainous, rough, unforgiving terrain in the heat) were spent in bed resting.  I attempted to eat what I could but my body simply wasn't cooperating.  I knew it was going to be a gamble out there but I had to try.  Even worse was the 2 days before the race my body decided to be even kinder and give me more GI symptoms that kept me close to home and without any form of an appetite...awesome.

As I woke up on the morning of April 7th I was conscious of the fact that I was nauseous and not even the slightest bit hungry.  I downed 2 Immodium as is my standard pre race ritual since my stomach always tends to give me some trouble.  I choked down an english muffin with peanut butter as we drove up to Laguna Mountain and Sunrise Trailhead...

At 5000 ft of elevation we knew the descent and ascent in and out of the desert would be brutal.  But we put those thoughts aside and geared up to go early for the 6 am race start.  I hit the bathroom once on our way off and felt fairly great (the feeling didn't last long).  Logically I knew beyond a doubt that I was far less then 100%.  But blame my stubborn nature or the simple fact that I/we had trained months for this event and I had to give it my best shot (I never dreamed I would be forced to give my all).

The morning was beautiful as the sun rose slowly over the mountains.  Bex and I were on our way to ultramarathon greatness...and we were together.  Let me segway a bit and really hammer home the importance of this event.  See we meant to do this distance a while ago...like a year ago actually for Bex's 30th birthday.  But Bex was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis.  A hefty diagnosis for anyone...but a virtual nightmare for an endurance athlete.  It stopped all plans for running an ultra and basically stopped many of her endurance plans altogether.  But in true Bex fashion she sucked it up, fought through, and vowed to conquer the distance.  When your best friend wants to give a big F you to RA by completing an ultramarathon...you sign up with her...period.  That's what friendship is.  That is the nature of our friendship...always has been.  An eternal vow that whatever god awful scheme one of us comes up with (legitimate or not) the other will follow.  Because who doesn't want a partner in crime, a battle buddy, an accomplice in all things ridiculous.  And over time and miles this goal became extremely important to me too.

Ok...back on track...er trail as it were.  By a few miles into the race I knew things weren't quite right with my stomach.  Call it intuition or simply years fighting my own body but I knew it was going to be a long day.  My first pit stop happened extremely early in the race (and when you are out in the desert a pit stop means simply a bush with which to hide your *ss from other racers...no porta potty here).  It was gross, disgusting, and completely necessary.  Thankfully I have some foresight and pack baby wipes for most long runs...cause you never know. 

This pattern kept going over the next few miles...run a bit, stop, find a bush, potty, run....etc...ad nauseum (literally).  As we hit the first aid station we dropped our jackets and surveyed the cornucopia of goodies on the table.  My first clue that I was bad off was that nothing on that table looked remotely appealing (if you know me you know I can eat most men under that table, so the fact that I wasn't hungry at all was BAD).  So I settled for some electrolyte drink and moved on. 

The next 6 miles were downhill.  And I don't mean a little jaunt down a small grade...I mean DOWNHILL.  We descended into the desert over 5000 ft in those 6 miles.  And about 2000 ft of it was in the last 2 miles.  Nothing hurts more then jarring your GI system repeatedly running downhill for 6 miles.  It's like shaking a soda can (or for the parents, jostling a baby that just ate...bad juju).  By the time we reached the desert floor I was in bad shape...nauseous, cramping, and pit stops were happening so frequently we were miles from where we should have been by this time.  I kept hopelessly looking at my watch knowing how far behind we were falling from our goals.  I know I told Bex many times to go on ahead and I would just keep going as I could.  I knew even as I said it that she wouldn't leave me like this.  It just wouldn't happen.  We don't leave each other unless it's dire (which it later was).  We are battle buddies...and this was battle.  You don't leave your friend to suffer in the desert alone.  Instead she kept trying to help me...giving me suggestions for what to do.  Nothing worked.  Somewhere into mile 12 the nausea became too much.  I started dry heaving (as there was virtually nothing in my stomach at that point).  We were walking with another runner (an amazing man in his 70's) and he kindly gave me some electrolyte pills after he learned my plight.  I felt a bit better as we headed into the 2nd aid station around mile 13.  We saw a good friend there and she gave me many suggestions for what to eat to stop the nausea and try to put a dent in the huge caloric deficit I was rapidly accumulating.  Flat soda, potatoes with salt, fritos, and bananas (you had to know there was a reason for the title of this blog).  Someone also had some Tums and I downed those too.  It hurt.  I didn't want it.  But I'm a smart girl and knew I needed every precious calorie. 

We left the aid station after I took my gazillionth pit stop and headed into Box Canyon (a sandy beautiful place that on any other day I would have been so excited to run through).  As we emerged into the desert I felt a brief moment of health and said we should jog...cause with scenery like this you just have to!

It didn't last long as I quickly stopped and everything I had painstakingly taken in at the aid station came back up.  Everything.  Let me tell you...there is nothing classy about vomiting.  Specifically when you couldn't be bothered to fully chew your food.  Yeah, bananas are awful coming back around.  The worst was everytime I thought I was done and would try to clear my throat a bit of banana would gag me and I would vomit again.  It was a vicious cycle.  The funny part was my only thought in these moments was for Bex.  I know beyond a doubt that she HATES vomit with a passion.  And yet she stood there...watching me...helping me...and never batted an eye.  That is true friendship.  My other thoughts were jumping around as angry tears streamed down my face.  I also knew how far back we were getting and how much I was holding Bex back...it was horrible.  The other racers were amazing though...as was my battle buddy.  People would run by and yell "It's ok honey!  Get it out and keep going!"  It was almost comical. 

After that I got down one gel and some water.  I felt a bit better and trudged on at the fastest walk I could muster.  We pulled into the turnaround aid station and I had some water and wet my hat and buff with ice water to stave off the encroaching desert heat.  We quickly turned around and kept up our relentless forward motion. 

At mile 16 my mom called Bex.  I had texted her earlier that I was in bad shape but with spotty cell service she couldn't get hold of me.  After Bex got off the phone she told me what my mom had said...it was simple...be a nurse for yourself.  What would you tell a racer that was in your situation.  I had to think about that for a bit.  I was still excited about the fact that I'd kept a gel down and was telling Bex this fact when she simply gave me the hard truth..."Great, you've had 200 calories over 17 miles.  How do you expect to get out of the canyon on that?"  I was about to tell her that I thought I may be able to get another gel down when in that moment of pure irony everything came back up again.

It was then that I knew I was done.  Over.  Finished.  There are some things that pure will and stubborness can fuel you through.  An ultramarathon in the heat and up 5000 ft isn't one of them.  As we hiked the mile back to the aid station I cried.  Tears of pain, defeat, anger...everything.  I apologized more times to Bex then I knew...she finally told me to shut up and stop apologizing.  She was right.  Apologies don't apply here...to these circumstances.  At mile 18 we reached the aid station and I dropped out.  The paramedics and volunteers took over and gave me small bits of fluid as I sat down.  They removed my pack and tended to me as Bex fueled up to keep going.  We looked at each other and didn't have to say much.  When you've been through so much with someone words are unnecessary.  I knew she needed to finish.  She knew I needed her to finish...for both of us.  She was feeling great and who knows when she would feel great like this again.  With a few words and a quick I love you she was off.  Into the desert.  Alone.  I felt so sad.  I felt like I had let down my best friend and sent her into the unknown alone.  But at the same time I knew it was going to be a life changing experience for her...thankfully I was right.

The medics took my vitals and told me my blood pressure was a bit low...hmmm...shocking.  As I sat there wallowing in my grief I still knew that there was no way I could have kept going.  I was nauseous, cramping, with fingers the size of sausages (a pretty decent sign of electrolyte imbalance).  My head ached and I was a bit dizzy.  My race was over.  But my day wasn't done.  I still needed to get to the finish line to wait for Bex.  Luckily there was a driver heading that way and once I was a bit more stable he offered me a ride with another runner who was suffering the same problems I was (seems the Death Flu hit a few more people during the weeks prior). 

I went to the finish line and waited with J and Nathaniel for Bex.  We knew from the smattering of texts and phone calls that she was ok and moving forward at a decent pace considering the delay and conditions.  We watched other racers finish with huge smiles on there faces...it was so motivating I couldn't even be sad.  I had 2 more bouts of vomiting but was finally able to keep some water down and simply staying still sitting on the grass was the only thing that felt ok.  So we waited....

And she finished...sprinting and smiling.  It was overwheling wrapping her in a hug as she came across the line.  It was a big group hug...and it was good.  She had done it.  And I have never been more proud of her. 

Looking back now a week out I still know beyond a doubt I made the right decision.  It was an extremely hard decision but I finally listened to my body and did what was right.  Maybe going the additional 6 miles while vomiting wasn't so smart but I couldn't go down without a fight.  I fought like h*ll and I lost.  Oh well, such is life.  Tomorrow is another day...and next year I will try again.  There is always another day.  And our motto has always been "Do you want to run today or do you want to run for the rest of your life?"  If I had tried to keep going I would have ended up in the hospital without a doubt.  I chose to run forever.  And run forever I will.  Because you don't attempt an ultra without a deep love for the sport and a strong will.  I will be back...and I will finish.  But I may never look at bananas the same again....