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The Best $12 I’ve Ever Spent

January 24, 2017 Family, Fear, Freewheeling No Comments

Dad and I rolled out of Kansas City at 2 PM on Tuesday, September 6. I had mapped out our route, but we had no set plan for the trip. By that, I mean that I didn’t have an idea of how far I wanted to make it on any given day. “As far as possible” is the closest thing I can give you as an answer to that question.

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I needed him to drive the first leg for a couple of reasons:

  1. I was really scared of driving this behemoth.
  2. I needed to go through all my emails with the salesperson at the dealership to figure out how this van could have possibly been ordered without cruise control. In taking possession of the vehicle, the first question I asked when I sat in the driver’s seat was, “Where’s the cruise control?” When I told Greg the bad news, he texted back to say he was “distraught.” Ugh.

Dad drove through the first tank of gas, which was 217 miles. In that amount of time, we realized that it was too noisy to turn on the radio or listen to an audiobook or podcast. It was basically too loud to hold a conversation at all. I was stressed, so was he. Not the super-number-one-good times we had hoped for. On top of all of this, my dad is 72 years old and had a nasty summer cold. Yay.

We stopped at a Casey’s General Store in Kingman, KS to fill the tank and get some much-needed provisions: a styrofoam cooler, ice, Mike’s Hard Lemonade, and Budweiser. The outside temperature was over 100*F coming across the west-facing Kansas plains and the wind was blowing like crazy. Keep in mind, we’re in a black metal box with no insulation or soundproofing.

I took over the wheel and got us to Texhoma, another 230 miles, which involved a late night thunderstorm and crazy cross-winds. It was not an easy drive, to say the least. But I am goal-oriented to a fault, and it felt good to check the boxes crossing from Iowa (my parents’ house) to Missouri (dealership) to Kansas (lunch with aunt and uncle) to Oklahoma (60 miles across the panhandle) to the Texas border in one day. We stayed at a very clean and comfortable hotel and got a good night’s rest to continue on our journey.

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We were up early the next morning for more of the same. There was a strong cross-wind, but we got lucky that it was an overcast day. I drove 12+ hours that day — 865 miles without cruise control — taking us from the Texas/Oklahoma border to Boulder City, Nevada.

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We were, of course, on Route 66. We knew we needed gas at some point, and there were hundreds of billboards littering the highway advertising their wares (as well as fuel, though prices were not always given). The highlight of that stretch was pulling into the Flying C Ranch, only to find that the gas was at $0.56/gallon higher than it was elsewhere along the route. Blasphemy! We saw that and I hit the gas on our way out of there, unintentionally spraying other weary travelers with the muddy water from a puddle. I legitimately felt/feel bad, but that gave us a much-needed laugh!

We stopped down the road at Clines Corners (where we probably paid just as much for gas). We also secured some M&Ms and a Mexican blanket that served as a barrier between the cockpit and the black hole that was the rest of the van. It helped the situation so much. We honestly couldn’t believe how much “soundproofing” this very primitive solution provided. That’s the best $12 I’ve ever spent. I’m sad I did not get a picture. We probably looked like fugitives driving down the highway in a windowless van and a Mexican blanket behind the cockpit!

Handy little compartment for my M&Ms.

Handy little compartment for my M&Ms.

Dad splurged for rooms at a historic hotel in downtown Boulder City, Nevada that night. We were hoping to meet up with Greg’s uncle and aunt, but they were otherwise detained. I made some wrong turns on my run the next morning that sent me farther than I wanted to go, and that set us behind on our plans to meet up with Dad’s 92-year-old sister in Las Vegas. Visiting with Maureen and her family was the most important stop on our trip. While we got there late, we had a very nice visit; it will possibly/probably be the last time we see her. What a blessing!

I’m going to add this tidbit here, mostly so that I remember it: We were sitting at an outside cafe in Boulder City, having a nice dinner and enjoying the fresh air. Dad made a point of stopping me in conversation to tell me he was proud of me. That he never once felt scared with me behind the wheel, and that I must have felt scared when he was driving (which was true, making me even more scared to drive). That it’s a tough rig to drive in these conditions and that I was doing a good job. I may be 42 years old, but sincere praise from my dad still goes a long way.

From there, it was more of the same for the next 600 miles. Me driving, Dad looking happily out the window and remarking as he saw fit:

“Why is that fence there?”
“Who put that highway there?”
“Why are there so many trains going this way?”

“That mother fucker doesn’t know what he’s doing. Get around him, and quick.”

So what I’m trying to say is: I own the highway. I am at one with the truckers. But only because of my dad. In all honesty, this was the best thing that could have happened. As not-fun as it was for either of us, I got really comfortable driving a really uncomfortable and out-of-my-comfort-zone vehicle. If Greg had taken possession of the van and driven it home (even if I was with him), I would not have driven it because I would have been too afraid. I needed to do this.

My dad’s words: “I’m never going to drive this vehicle again. You need to learn to do this.” He was right, of course, as dads are. He taught me, and he did it in a way that didn’t make me feel stupid or inferior or that I should somehow know how to do this already, having never done it before. He taught me to use the mirrors for maneuvering on the highway, to park in less-than-ideal situations, to park the rig in my own very tight driveway!

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Vans aplenty!

Greg wasted no time getting to work. Dad and I rolled in on a Thursday evening and Greg got to work the next day. We’ve documented the process, which I’ll share here, of course. This is where the real fun begins!

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Van 2.0

January 9, 2017 Family, Freewheeling No Comments

If you read my Welcome, 2017 post and/or if you follow me on Instagram, you know that we bought a new van in September. Well, we bought it in April, but we had to wait for it to be built.

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Brand new 2017 Ford Transit! (The color is called “magnetic.” We get asked all the time.) And as you can see below, we opted for no interior options. Well, that’s not exactly true. One of the amenities that we did opt for was cruise control, and our sales guy missed that on the last iteration of back-and-forth. Not cool. We got an aftermarket kit that Greg has installed, but that was no help for me driving 2000 miles across the desert…

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My parents and I picked it up outside of Kansas City, fresh off the assembly line, and my dad and I drove it back to California so Greg could get to work building it out. The odometer had 11 miles on it when we hit the road. Don’t worry, there are stories.

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Right off the bat, I’m sure you have a million questions and I’m going to answer them in a very comprehensive post. I can’t really talk about the whats and whys of everything right now. I promise, I will fill you in when the time is right. Sorry for being so cryptic, but I’m honoring Greg’s requests on this.

Anyway, NEW VAN!

I have a ton of pictures and descriptions of the build-out. Greg designed it (allowing me a lot of input on my preferences) and is doing a crazy-good job of making it come to life. Every day, he comes home from “real” work and changes his clothes to go work out in the garage and van for the rest of the evening. He had a holiday break from December 23 through January 2 and the amount of work that he got done in those 10 days is amazing.

I can’t wait to show you the progress!

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Welcome, 2017!

January 2, 2017 Family, Fido, Fun 1 Comment

Happy New Year! 2016 definitely had its share of ups and downs, including a lot of change for me. I quit my job, learned a completely new trade that launched a new career (Thanks, Kelli!), we bought a new van, we sold our old van, and Trump won. So there’s that cloud of fear hanging over everything…

But alas, things are good around here and I’m the last person who has anything legitimate to complain about. After a 6-month hiatus of no weekend trips or travel (with each other), Greg and I loaded up the ol’ Honda Element and headed over to Santa Cruz for an overnight. We stayed in the dog-friendly bungalow at a quaint B&B and enjoyed everything the coast has to offer. Booze and snacks to be sure, but also much-needed sun and sand.

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I can’t wait to show and tell you everything that we have going on. I know I say this a lot, but you should expect to hear more from me this year. Seriously. We have so much going on.

Wishing you all the best in 2017!

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MDW Cycling Adventure

More adventures awaited us on Sunday. Greg had been poring over maps for a few days to find a good bike ride for us. We know the Vineman race routes well, but wanted something that headed out to the coast. Greg showed me the options, me being very clear about saying I wasn’t up for a long ride — 25 miles was my goal for the day. He estimated a route for me that we could do together until I peeled off to head home and he continued on for a longer ride. Let’s go!

The first nine miles were great. Rolling hills along the river and into the town of Cazadero. At mile 9.5, the road went up and continued going up with only slight reprieve for another nine miles. I have not been training on hills and this definitely felt like work. Also, I had a lot of time to think while I was climbing. Not all of the thoughts were good ones, GREG. Among them was the thought that there was no way this was going to be a 25-mile ride. I knew where I was on the map and there was no way this was going to work out. I was right.

It turned out to be a 37-mile ride with 3,151 feet of elevation gain. Yeah, not exactly the ride I signed up for. But the scenery was beautiful!

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During a photo op outside of Jenner, I let Greg know what I thought about his route planning skills. Ha!

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It’s always an adventure when Greg is doing the planning!

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MDW Kayaking Adventure

We headed north over the Golden Gate Bridge for the holiday weekend; Greg took Friday off, so we got a head start. Heading to the Russian River was my idea. I was chasing the sun and 80*F temps, along with water that is very swimmable this early in the season. Thankfully the forecast was accurate!

We stopped at the Fishetarian in Bodega Bay for a lunch of fish tacos and beer.  It was chilly on the coast, so we quickly made our way inland to Monte Rio. It’s a little sleepier than Guerneville and there is a shady parking spot adjacent to the dog beach. Perfect! Miles swam around with his ball during cocktail hour while we contemplated how to spend the next 3 days.

RussianRiver

The real adventures began on Saturday. Greg and I went for our respective long runs (7.5 miles for me, 10 for him) and then we started scheming the best way to kayak the river. For all of Greg’s planning efforts, things could not have gone worse.

We drove 3 miles out to Duncans Mills to drop a bike there. That’s where we’d take the boat out of the water. I volunteered to ride my bike back to collect the van, which we would be leaving 7 miles upriver in Guerneville. At Johnson’s Beach, we loaded the boat with our phones, my cycling shoes, booze, and snacks and set off down the river.

The three of us (me, Greg, Miles) were in the inflatable kayak, which made it very difficult to steer. Greg also forgot one of the seats, so he was leaning against a lifejacket in the back. These two things alone made for a long trip. What literally made the trip long is that the current in the Russian River is about as strong as that on a lake (read: almost imperceptible). So instead of just floating happily with the current, we were actually having to do a lot of paddling. I’d happily paddle, but Greg was having to work so much harder to steer the boat when I paddled that it was better for me not to (other than when we were paddling into a strong headwind, which was often). We thought we’d be able to average 3 mph or so down the river, but we were only averaging 1.5 mph. A booze cruise that should have taken no more than a couple of hours took over four and ended up being a lot of work.

On the upside, Miles had fun! We would throw his ball and he’d dive off the kayak to fetch it, then swim alongside the boat until he could walk on an island to rest for a minute. We got good at lifting him into the boat using the handle on his Ruffwear harness. He’s such a good adventure dog!

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We were thinking we’d be able to pull off onto islands to stretch our legs and hang out, but we were running out of time. We didn’t get started until 2 PM and we had a small issue at the end of the line. This is where Greg’s planning skills really fell apart. You know, details like where we’d be able to pull the boat out of the water in Duncans Mills. He thought he saw a place on the map. He assumed there would be a trail. He guessed no one would be around to see us hauling a kayak and gear out of the water into town.

Well, there were people at the place he thought he saw and they said it was a private beach (maybe). The other place he had in mind was farther away than he thought it was. The one place he did find wasn’t really a trail at all, which would mean we’d need to bushwhack our way up the hill and into town. I was OVER IT by this point (as we all were), but there was no choice but to go with this plan.

It was treacherous and awful. I was wearing a bikini and flip flops, having taken my river shoes out of the van during ski season and not remembering to put them back. There was poison oak and thistles everywhere. At one point, I made Greg stop so I could take a picture to document the desperate situation. Of course, once we got the boat into town, I had to get on my bike and ride 7 miles back to Guerneville. FML.

The sun was behind the mountains by the time I got back to Duncans Mills at 7 PM, and the breeze blowing off the ocean was cold. Greg and Miles were wet and freezing by the time I rescued them, and Greg still had to break down the kayak. We slept well that night and woke up sore.

Three days post-adventure, spots of poison oak rash started showing up on my legs and torso. And my face. My chin and lips are covered in oozing sores. I got a steroid shot this morning and am on my way to the pharmacy for cream now. What a delightful souvenir from our trip!

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Because it’s 90 degrees in October

October 13, 2014 Family, Fear, Fun No Comments

We have had summer-like weather here for the last two weeks. Actually, with temps in the 80s and 90s, it has been even hotter than our typical summer. Truth be told, as much as I love hot weather, I am ready for the season change. And by that I mean I’m tired of my summer clothes and am ready to pull out the skinny jeans and boots.

Hot weather is best enjoyed on a boat with a cold beverage in-hand. Better yet, find someone to tow you behind the boat so you can enjoy the cool water in the hot air. That’s exactly what we did in Okoboji in August!

My niece and her friend are — how can I say this without making them sound like pansy-asses? — not thrill seekers. They loathe things that go fast or are unpredictable. It was with much trepidation that they got onto the huge two-person tube and saw Greg getting behind the wheel of the boat to drive. Muah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Their fear was warranted. 

Turnabout is fair play, obviously, so Greg willingly jumped in to take his turn on the big tube. It being a two-person ride, all eyes were on me to join him. I wasn’t planning to get in the water that day, so much so that I was not wearing a bathing suit. I wouldn’t let that ruin everyone’s good time, so I yanked off my shirt and jumped in with my shorts and bra on — all in the name of fun and spontaneity!

I like roller coasters and enjoy a controlled adrenaline rush like a haunted house, but I will admit I was scared. I think what scared me most was that a 12-year-old was behind the wheel of the boat and she was out to get Greg. She knew it would take a lot to scare that adrenaline junkie and she was going to find his edge.

Mission accomplished.

We would be giggling along and everything would be scary-in-a-fun-way until she would make a very big turn at top speed (30+ mph), sending us out of the wake of the boat. The giggling would go from fun to HOLYFUCKWE’REGOINGTODIE in one ha-haAAAAAAAAAGH!

Thankfully Greg was calculating physics in his head amidst all the fun. More than one time, I’d be giggling/shitting my pants and he’d call out, “I’m going to kill you!” Which wasn’t to say that he was revealing his long-term plans for our relationship. He was being literal. Lauren was sending us over the wake (and out of the tube) in the direction that Greg and the tube would be hurtling over me. Applying the particular law of physics that mass * acceleration = force means that he could literally kill me. Now that’s just family fun right there!

Using all of his might and limbs, Greg was able to get himself out of his side of the tube every time Lauren did this and we were uninjured. Seriously, there’s nothing this man can’t fix or (in this case) prevent!

The most surprising thing of all was when Lauren wanted to get back in the tube to ride with me — under the condition that her mother do the driving. Smart girl! I coaxed her into going a little faster than she was originally comfortable with, and she found that faster is better than slower. It makes for a much smoother ride!

We gave Mendy the thumbs-up, which she took to mean “GO FASTER!” (Which was my plan all along!!!)

Shit got real. And fast. AIRBORNE!

Lauren quickly changed her tune on the merits of going fast. The next time Mendy started accelerating, Lauren was very clear about her thoughts. Check out that scowl!

All in all, it was a super fun ending to a great visit to Okoboji, and one none of us will quickly forget!

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3×5 – summer edition

September 25, 2014 Family, Friends, Fun 1 Comment

It was a summer full of sun and fun and friends and booze and snacks and work and play and everything that is good in the world. If only it would rain here in California, life would be perfect.

I’m a bad blogger in that I don’t update very often and I do not take a picture of every moment/meal/highlight/lowlight of my life. There’s a song on John Mayer’s first album called 3×5 and I often find myself singing that song to myself when I should have/could have/would have taken a picture of something…but just couldn’t be bothered to. It not only helps me not feel guilty about what I could be sharing, but it helps me to become more present in the moment myself.

didn’t have a camera by my side this time
hoping I would see the world through both my eyes
maybe I’ll tell you all about it when I’m
in the mood to lose my way with words

I’m not so much in the mood to lose my way with words, but I’ll give you a glimpse of the fantastic summer we’ve had in the few pics that were captured. People elsewhere look at summer as ending on Labor Day. September is when the weather gets really nice here (admittedly, it has been 75 and sunny every day for months…). More adventures to come!

MAY
We spent Memorial Weekend in Tahoe. The highlight of the weekend was hooking up with Sarah and her family. I got to meet baby London for the first time! I also got to ride my first motorized cooler, which was as awesome as both my and Sterling’s expressions indicate. (pardon the quality of these pics, they were obviously impromptu snapshots)

JUNE
We celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary with a pub crawl down B Street in San Mateo. Walking distance from home, THANK GOODNESS.

JULY
We spent the long 4th of July weekend in Tahoe and the Lakes Basin Recreation Area. Mountain biking, hiking/running, swimming, drinking, and disconnecting from technology. It was fantastic.

A week later, I was off to Dallas for the J.Hilburn Annual Conference.

AUGUST
We completed a Midwest tour that involved a lot of driving, a lot of Tank 7, and seeing a lot of important people. Lake Okoboji was a highlight.

Once again, we spent Labor Day in Tahoe and the Lakes Basin, where I mountain biked 4 out of 5 days. I can honestly say I’m getting better at this sport!

The fifth day of the trip included a hilly 6 mile run with a beautiful reward at the top:

And a reward at the bottom:

A fun summer indeed!

 

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Lately (6 months of it)

Do you guys realize it’s May? Sorry I dropped off the earth for the first almost-half of the year. Here’s what I’ve been up to:

Not Training for Anything! 
This is probably the most exciting thing I have going on: I’m NOT racing Wildflower this weekend! The crew that usually attends/races is not doing it this year and we were not gung-ho to go ourselves because the drought California is enduring has forced the race organizers to change the event. The water capacity is at a mere 5% of normal. While I do not miss the sufferfest, I definitely miss these people!

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(PSA: look at your water consumption and cut back where possible! We put in a fake lawn several years ago, installed an on-demand water heater last year, saving greywater for plants, switched to a low-flow shower head, and installed a pee/poo flusher option on the toilet).

I don’t have any races on the calendar, though I *may* do Bay to Breakers for fun with friends next weekend. Greg might do Vineman Monte Rio, if there’s enough water in the Russian River… I just can’t be bothered to swim/bike/run all at once right now. I haven’t swum since the Santa Barbara Tri!

Still Staying Active
While I am not following a specific training plan, I’m not loafing either. My goal this year is different: look good and feel confident in a bathing suit/naked. You can shake your head all your want; I don’t care how trivial it sounds to anyone else. Body image is something I struggle with and I decided to make it a goal for myself. This goal requires an an entirely different approach to diet and exercise than training for endurance events. Most of my workouts are 30 minutes or less and involve high intensity intervals. My diet includes minimal carbs and much smaller portions than when I was training 20 hours per week. I have not given up wine, obviously.

I also find reasons to walk/run more places. I got the new Garmin Vivofit activity tracker and it is a great excuse to take a walk around the block after a couple of hours of computer work and walk downtown to pick up those last minute groceries. I find myself purposely pulling into the parking spot farthest away and incorporating walks into my social time with friends.

Daily sMiles
Now that I’m not training and/or exhausted all the time, I spend a lot of quality active time with Miles. We run/hike/swim at Water Dog Park in Belmont a couple of times a week, which is fantastic except for the poison oak he gets into. Greg and I are both very allergic and itchy spots pop up on us all the time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Tahoe

It was far from an epic winter in Tahoe, but we turned the few times there into fun times. We celebrated Keith’s 50th birthday in March and I learned time and again that working from The Van is very productive.

 

 

Girlfriend Getaways
My local girlfriends did our annual getaway to Murphys this year. We drank a bunch of wine, met new friends, excelled at Cards Against Humanity, and had a wonderful weekend in the Sierra Foothills.

My family and I successfully completed the 9th Annual Sisters Trip in March, this time with a beautifully-appointed rental home in Aptos. More laughter, drinking, walks on the beach, and life-changing conversations. I’m so glad we set aside the time and money for this trip each year.

Which one is not like the others?

We have some fun stuff planned as summer nears. I won’t let six months go by without posting again!

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Labor Day Revisited

September 2, 2013 Family 1 Comment

It was three short years ago that Greg and I turned our eyesore of a backyard into something beautiful and sustainable. Remember this?

BEFORE

We turned it into this:

AFTER

I am happy to report that this lawn has lived up to all of its promises and looks as beautiful today as it did three years ago. We spent a little time this weekend filling in around the flagstone and re-mulching everything. We got the sprinklers working again so that the plants don’t die when we leave on long weekends. I love my low-maintenance yard!

What did you do this weekend?

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Wildflower Long Course 2013

May 23, 2013 Family, Fitness 3 Comments

The Wildflower Long Course triathlon happened nearly two weeks ago. I think I’m still in denial and still trying to forgive myself for signing up again. The aftertaste that lingers in my mouth is quite bittersweet. I don’t have a lot of pictures to share and I’ll keep this brief.

SWIM: 1.2 miles = 38:09 (2012 = 33:02)
As well as my swimming had been going in the pool, my  one open water swim prior to the race proved to be slower than expected. I wanted to be optimistic going into this, but chose to be realistic. When I was sighting every ~10th breath or so and the buoys kept moving farther away, I knew I was right to be realistic.

I did try to stay “in the moment” during the swim and remind myself that this would be the most pleasant part of my day. I was in cold water, which was a welcome environment compared to the 95 degree day we all endured.

BIKE: 56 miles = 3:24:49 (2012 = 3:14)
Last year, it seemed like the bike was “no big deal.” It was harder this year. That’s either a function of me being less trained, the heat, or a combination of both.

I was again surprised at how hard the Mile 2 climb was, and saw many people walking it. My left foot started charlie-horsing at Mile 7 of the bike and finally let up around Mile 20. Right then, I knew it was a whole new ball game. As hot as it was, I told myself to drink at least two bottles of water between every aid station (which were ~45 mins apart). I did this and more, and still had no urge to pee at any point. I had no Nuun or salt tablets with me.

By the time I got to Nasty Grade (Mile 40), I was done. I wanted to quit. By the time I finished Nasty Grade, I had talked myself out of running. Seriously. I had nothing to prove — I had already done this course and had done a full Ironman. No need to prolong the misery. Right? RIGHT???

As I was riding back into the festival area, I was looking for Greg on the run course. There’s a spot where the runners travel on a trail that is adjacent to the road. Miracle of miracles, I saw him! I hollered, “G!!!! I haaaaate this!” He saw me and hollered back, “You look great, baby! I hate it, too!” He said that the runners near him laughed at our exchange, everyone hating ourselves for doing this. It was so good to see him; he was running and looked so strong.

There were only a couple of miles left back into the transition area and I thought about what I would do. If there was one aspect of training that I had actually focused on, it was the running. I had not focused on speed. I had focused solely on running hills. For the last ~30 miles, I had been talking myself out of and back into doing the run. I really really really just wanted to be done.

I thought of what I would say to Greg and Kidder, to our friends we were camping with, to YOU GUYS who read this blog. “Yeah, I quit. I just didn’t want to do it, so I didn’t even try.” That didn’t feel very good.

I pulled into the transition area and had a Really Big Decision to make: to run or not to run.

I am not a quitter. I would run.

RUN: 2:27:24 (2012 = 2:18:06)
I left the transition area with all kinds of caveats:

If I puke, I can stop.
If I cramp, I can stop.
If the apocalypse happens, I can stop.

I wanted any/all of these things to happen. I don’t pray, so I was employing every other possible tactic to give me a reason that I could forfeit (read: not quit). Last year, I walked within the first mile and adopted a run 3 minutes/walk 30 seconds plan (that did not work). This year, I RAN the first four miles. This was a huge mental boost for me!

Mile 4 is the Death March that everyone walks. It truly isn’t worth it to run it. I got to the top at Mile 5 and started running again. There had been ambulances all over the bike course and now there were rescue crews in the trails. I’m sure the heat was taking its toll and people were succumbing to heat exhaustion and dehydration.

At every aid station, I kept repeating all of the above caveats, assessing my physical self all the while. Do I feel like puking? Am I cramping? Do I see Jesus? The answer to all of these was no. Keep going…

At Mile 7 or so, there was Team Bourbon & Bacon. They were serving both. It was 95 degrees and they were frying bacon in a frying pan on a grill on one side of the trail while a teammate was holding a bottle of bourbon on the other side. I thought to myself,

“If I take a shot of bourbon, I’ll probably puke. Then I can be done.”

But alas, I was still running at this point. You might call it shuffling… but not walking. Not cramping. Not barfing. I kindly declined their offer and kept going. The next “out” was at Mile 8. Our camp was right on the other side of those bathrooms, you see. I could retire to The Van

But I was still running/shuffling. Someone was offering Coke and Twizzlers. I had both. They were delicious and sugary; I kept running. The nice lady at Mile 8.75 had orange wedges. They tasted like heaven and I thanked her profusely, as I did last year.

Another decision point that I had been contemplating came at Mile 9. I could choose to do the mentally torturous out-and-back from Mile 9-11…or I could just go back now. This becomes Mile 11. I could just be done in 2 miles. Now. Just be done. Now. But… I’d made it this far. I couldn’t QUIT now. I wasn’t cramping. I wasn’t barfing. I must keep going. What would I tell the people? How would I feel about myself? I trudged along. Walked the hills, ran the downhills and flats. I saw stars when I was “running,” knowing that it was going to be a real race to the end to not black out.

As usual, our friends were at the top of the hill at Mile 12. Martz offered me a margarita shot. I wanted to partake and laugh, but I had been near tears since Mile 10 and had no extra moisture to spare, so I took a shot of apple juice instead. I hoped I would not lose it on the mile to the finish.

FINAL: 6:44:44  (2012 = 6:15:20)

I’m really proud of myself for finishing. I had talked myself out of even starting the run halfway through the bike. That said, I’m really dejected because I actually ran more of this race than I did last year. I walked far more of the course last year, and last year’s split was faster (my average pace was almost 1 minute/mile faster last year).

I know the heat was a factor. I remarked in last year’s race report that it was 81 degrees. It was 95 degrees this year, and that absolutely makes a difference. I peed at 7:30 AM and not again until 11:30 PM — after over 400 ounces of non-alcoholic fluids taken in.

Within seconds of sitting down after finishing, every muscle in my lower body started cramping — quads, hamstrings, calves, feet. Greg got me a Nuun drink and I tried to keep moving. Putting my legs in the cold water before picking everything up from the transition area helped.

As at Ironman Canada, the Kidder family was so wonderful in spectating and keeping Miles (14-YO Kyle Kidder did the Sprint Course!). It was so delightful to finish and see so many familiar faces. All of us dreaded making the famed trip back up the hill to our campsite.

After a couple of V8s, some chocolate milk, and a lukewarm shower, I finally enjoyed a glass of well-earned wine. Let the fun really begin!

 

 

 

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