Delayed Dreams

I had my first two triathlons of the season this month. It hasn’t been a good start for me. Between equipment issues and Mother Nature, my races have been a disappointment.

June 6 was the Pigman. I was excited because I had finally learned to swim and I knew this would improve my overall time. The water was choppy, though, and I got off course. I improved my swim time by 2:14, but I thought I could have taken four minutes off.

The bike did not get much better. Twice I had to stop on the course because my aero bottle was coming off. I tried to finish strong, but for the first time, I did not improve my overall time from the year before.

I was depressed. I really wanted to have a strong performance heading into the Hy-Vee Tri, my first Olympic distance. I had to shake it off and just chalk it up to having a bad day. I didn’t know what a bad day was until I went to Hy-Vee…

I had gone to Des Moines early because they let you do practice swims at the race site on Friday. I had put many hours in the pool, but I still feared that 1500-yard swim. After a one-hour lightning delay, they let us practice on the 600-yard course they had set up. I did the course once and didn’t feel tired so I did it again. It gave me a lot of confidence.

I volunteered at the Kids’ Clinic that afternoon (a welcome diversion) and tried to keep myself relaxed, rested and hydrated. I had to take my bike to transition the night before the race and for the first time, I saw the swim course. It looked really far and my heart pounded. The nerves were back.

It had rained every day and the race site was a muddy mess. So it was a welcome sight to get up race morning and see no rain. I felt alive with excitement. The day I had waited for was finally here. An hour before the race a voice came over the loudspeaker…an important announcement. A storm was on the way so they were shortening the race from an Olympic distance to a sprint. I felt tears well up in my eyes. I had been training for six months for this one race and now it was gone. I was no longer nervous, but I would have to refocus. I still had a race to do.

I was starting in the second to the last wave so it was a long wait. Club prez Rosie and I thought it would be fun to be the last two people to start in our wave. Not such a good idea for me as the next wave of men was quickly swimming on top of me. I kept running into women who were doing the breaststroke and the backstroke. Two female backstrokers crashed heads right before I slammed into them. I was just trying to find a lane to swim in all this congestion. I finally made it out of the water.

It was windy and rainy on the bike. As I made the turnaround I tried to pick up the pace. I could hear thunder so I knew I had to get back. A few miles from the finish I was changing gears and my chain came off. “Are you kidding me?!” I got off the road and proceeded to fight with the chain in the rain. Bikes were flying by me. People were yelling out “Are you okay?” and I gave them a friendly wave.

I was back on the bike, but as I pulled into transition, the storm let loose. I was pelted with rain. I thought it was hail at first because it hurt as it struck my skin. It was mass chaos—people were grabbing their bikes and running for cover. I could hear sirens and see lightning. All my triathlete brain could think, though, was to pull on my rain-soaked running shoes, grab my hat, race belt and run.

The “Run Out” sign was gone so I was momentarily confused. I ran out of transition and headed up the carpet. I had to dodge people in my path and I didn’t know where to turn. “Where do I go?!” I screamed out and someone pointed towards the grandstand. I turned into the grandstand, but my path was blocked by cones. “You need to go to the finish line,” the volunteer said. No, my mind raced, I’m not done! They were closing the course and I was supposed to seek shelter. I want to finish! Please let me finish!!

I headed over to the finish line and they told me to take off my own timing chip. Just like that, it was over. I started to cry. Someone placed a plastic packet containing a medal into my hand. For the past year I had dreamed of running down the blue carpet at Hy-Vee, racing into the grandstand full of cheering people, having a medal placed around my neck. Now I didn’t even want the medal; I hadn’t earned it.

As I huddled under a tent, cold, wet and shivering, I could hear them announcing runners as they came in. The runners that were already out on the course got to finish. I would never get to hear my name called. I couldn’t help but think if my chain had not come off or I had been a little faster, I would have been out on the run course when the storm hit. Instead, I had my first DNF.

Fortunately, club member Heath had his big truck parked at the site so he could take some of the MWXers and our bikes back to the hotel. Otherwise, we would have to ride our bikes back to our vehicles that were parked at the mall. A visit to the Cheesecake Factory soothed my emotional wounds and Rosie talked about adversity making me stronger.

Rosie reminded me that there are things I can’t control (like the weather) and every time we race, anything can happen. Things don’t always go according to plan. I was looking forward to my “moment in time” but maybe it wasn’t meant to be—at least not that day. I would have other moments and maybe this experience would make me stronger, tougher and able to face whatever came my way. Dreams don’t die; they just get delayed!

Getting My Mojo Back

May is the time to return to open-water swimming. I always dread that first time in Palo lake—the way your feet go numb, that first hit of cold rushing through your wetsuit and how you lose your breath when your face meets the water.

My first time in open water this season was May 18. I didn’t think it was too bad. The water was cold, but I think Nick and the Masters swim club had conditioned me to swimming in cold water. I guess “brainwashed” might be more accurate.

You could tell I had spent the last six months swimming in a pool because I was all over the place. I wasn’t used to sighting and there were no lines to guide me. In the murky water I kept slamming my head into the buoys and feeling disoriented. I would also have to readjust to swimming in a wetsuit.

This would be my first year of actually swimming (using semi-proper technique) so it was like starting over. I would find myself wanting to swim with my head out of the water, like I did in the old days. “You’re not that person any more. You are a swimmer,” I told myself.

It had been a tough pre-season. I had a hard time getting back into the training mode. I had a week off work during May so I thought that would be when something would click inside me and my training would take off. The weather, however, was cold and rainy and I got sick. The slightest activity left me feeling weak and lightheaded, so training was out. I ended up not doing much of anything for six days. I began to wonder if the triathlon gods were testing me.

The truth was, sickness or not, I did not have the desire. All the other things going on in my life had stripped me of my motivation. I felt tired and stressed, and I didn’t care much about anything. Triathlon training was just another thing I had to get done.

Club member LG (Laura Greif, in case you don’t know) reminded me that I should not view training as another obligation but as an escape from the pressures. I had allowed myself to fall into a dark hole, but running, biking and swimming could be my salvation.

The next day I went on a run and I could feel a change in me. I was running with purpose, and I felt a focus I hadn’t felt in months. My mojo was coming back.

As I enter the final weeks until Pigman I know I have to let go of the things I can’t control and grab on to the things I can—like my training. Triathlons bring us a challenge, a sense of accomplishment and the joy that comes with meeting our goals. We may not feel like that in other areas of our life, but in triathlons we have a chance to achieve something. We can’t give up or give in; we have to keep tri-ing!

The Dairy Queen Temptation

The picture is me, dressed as a polar bear, for this year's Polar Plunge.

It was March 31 and I stood at the Dairy Queen, staring at the blizzard board. I was picking out the last blizzard I would be able to have for a long time. I have two training schedules—my winter or off-season schedule and the Hardcore Schedule, which kicked off April 1. My love of ice cream would now be limited to post-race rewards.

My self-discipline did not last long, however. On April 8 I was challenged by a co-worker to consume the “Cup of Death”—a 32 oz. McDonald’s Triple Thick chocolate shake. This one shake contains 1160 calories. I was challenged to drink it in one hour. I downed it in 20 minutes, brain freeze and all.

You see, if I hadn’t become a triathlete, I wanted to be a competitive eater. They are the ones who consume 30 hot dogs at a sitting. Despite my size, I was always able to consume large quantities of food and I never backed down from a challenge. So despite my dedication to the triathlete lifestyle, I drank the fat-laden McDonald’s shake. I felt guilty so that night I swam many laps at Masters, often feeling like my swollen belly would drop me to the bottom of the pool like a lead weight.

As people left the pool that night I kept swimming, determined to burn off every last calorie. Coach Nick said Lane 4 was empty and I could move over there. Me? In Lane 4? In case you don’t know, the outside lanes are for slow people, middle lanes for fast. My home was Lane 6. Lane 4 was for the Barry Breffles of the world. I felt empowered in Lane 4…faster, stronger. I was the last one out of the pool that night because I didn’t want to leave Lane 4, enjoying the fantasy that I was an elite swimmer. Maybe someday.

My other training is still coming slowly, but I’m trying to crank it up in the last few weeks before my first race. During my physical my doctor checked out my hurt elbow and said I have an inflamed nerve. It causes pain in my arm and numbness in my fingers. Being the stubborn triathlete that I am, I didn’t want to take any time off. Fortunately, I have a doctor who understands that. She said as long as I can take the pain, I won’t permanently harm my body. No more excuses; time to suck it up.

For the record, my final decision at the Dairy Queen was the Oreo Cheesequake Blizzard. It contains Oreo cookies and cheesecake (what a combo!). I am a member of the Blizzard Fan Club so they send me coupons, further tempting me. It’s also the 25th anniversary of the blizzard so it would be un-American not to partake, right?

So many things are out there trying to derail my training. I guess the more I eat, the more I have to train or vice-versa. All you can do is keep-tri-ing……..

Don't Let Walls Stop You

Last month’s Freezefest 5K was my first race of the year. I knew it wasn’t going to be good. I had not been running very much. It was a perfect day for a winter race—sunny and in the 20’s. I knew it wasn’t my day when a white Eskimo dog ran by me. He wasn’t even pulling a sled! Not even my lucky boxer shorts helped!!

My finishing time was 29 seconds slower than last year. I did find out later that the course was a little long, but I wouldn’t be able to say I PRed every race this year. This is not how I wanted my season to begin.

We sometimes become focused on one sport in the off-season. For me, everything had been about swimming. I knew I had to improve my swimming if I wanted to do an Olympic distance. I was making strides. On Feb. 25 I did a timed 500 that was two minutes faster than two months ago! I was thrilled, but at the same time I was bothered that I was not running.

I really enjoy running, for so many reasons. I love that runner’s high and how I can clear my head on a run. Everything seems more in focus after a run. You really feel a sense of accomplishment. Something was different this off-season. I didn’t want to run and I didn’t know why. It had to be mental and sometimes those are the hardest roadblocks to break through.

I was also fighting pain in my elbow. It sucks when you have an injury this early in the season. Normally you might feel you could afford to take some time off to heal. For me, though, I needed my elbow to swim and I couldn’t lose the endurance I had built up. That 1-mile swim was less than three months away and I couldn’t stop now.

I think there is a certain level of pain that comes with being a triathlete. We have to walk a fine line between keeping healthy and fighting through the injuries that come with the punishment we inflict on our bodies. For now, I was choosing self-treatment and “pain denial” over taking any time off.

So despite my swimming gains, as a whole my off-season is not going well. I refuse to believe that this is an omen for my season. Achieving your goals means more when you have to struggle to get there.

A fellow club member and friend is fighting cancer right now so I choose to take her lead and be a fighter! Her struggle is so much greater than anything us MWXers will endure this season. Brita and I would have been racing together in the same age group so, in a way, I feel like I am racing for the both of us. She wouldn’t be a quitter and she wouldn’t let anything, whether mental or physical, stand in her way. Michael Jordan said when you hit a wall you don’t let it stop you. You just have to figure out how to climb it, go through it or work around it. Or in my immortal words, you have to keep tri-ing!

Training Bloopers

As we start gearing up for the 2010 season, I look back at how far I’ve come. I have to laugh at some of the “training bloopers” that have occurred to me. Maybe they weren’t so much funny, as embarrassing.

The most recent occurred at Milky Way Masters swim practice. I normally swim at Kennedy High School, but over winter break we had an evening swim at Washington. I was in my swim gear and ready to go, but I wanted to use the bathroom first. Someone directed me to the locker room. As I entered the locker room the door made a loud thud behind me and I just knew. Yes, I was locked in.

I knew no one would hear me if I pounded on the door so there had to be another way out. I made my way through the dark locker room and found a door that led to the outside. I envisioned getting lost in the snow outside Washington H.S. and someone finding my frozen, lifeless body. No, there had to be another way out. I found a door that led down some steps and through another door. Soon I was standing in the hallway of the high school.

At the end of the hall there was a group of high school boys who smiled and said “hi.” Keep in mind, I am walking down the hall in only a swimsuit, swim cap and goggles. I tried to forget that I was half-naked and asked if they could direct me to the pool. They pointed across the hall. Here I thought my embarrassing high school moments had ended long ago.

I have had a number of biking bloopers, most of them having to do with me going over with my bike. One was in my first Pigman Tri. I had borrowed a friend’s road bike and I was finishing the bike portion. As I headed towards the dismount line I realized that I could not get clipped out. I had to make a quick decision. The side of the road was lined with people but I saw a small grassy opening so I put the bike down, almost taking out several spectators. As I lay sprawled on the ground a guy said, “You’re supposed to dismount over there.” I smiled and got up, my side covered in mud.

Bike mishap #2 occurred a few months later, shortly after I bought my Felt. I was riding on the trail, trying to figure out my bike computer. Somehow I lost control of my bike and didn’t realize I was only clipped out of one pedal. Over I went. I put my hand down to break my fall and could feel my ankle twist in the foot that was still in the pedal.

I stayed on the ground for a moment, still under my bike. “What is with me and bikes?” I contemplated. Suddenly there was an old lady standing over me. “Are you okay?” she asked. Unfortunately, I get asked that a lot. It happened on my first Pigman swim when another swimmer asked me if I was okay because I looked like I was about to drown. No, I’m not okay! I don’t know what I am doing out here!

This latest bike crash sent me to the doctor with a sprained ankle and wrist and I had to drop out of the Trihawk. Since I needed to explain why I crashed my bike for no apparent reason, I told people I swerved to save a family of raccoons. It’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

I can’t recall any specific running mishaps, other than the embarrassment of being passed in a 5K by people pushing strollers. The point is, you sometimes have to laugh at yourself. I realize that my “bloopers” were all part of my triathlon learning curve. It’s the adversity that makes you keep tri-ing. Oh, and for the record, I haven’t put my bike down in a long time!

Mastering My Swimming Fears

I finally joined the Milky Way Masters swim club. I’ve always been a bit intimidated by the name. I wasn’t the master of anything. Maybe the coaches were like martial arts masters that possessed secret knowledge. Maybe the MWM could help me master swimming.

To understand my swimming journey, you first have to know where I’ve been. It was the 1970’s and like many small-town kids, my parents sent me off to swimming lessons at the community pool. It would be over-dramatic to say I almost drowned, but it was one of the more traumatic experiences in my life.

As part of my beginning test I had to jump into the deep end of the pool. I jumped out too far and when I couldn’t reach the side, I panicked. I started sinking. I splashed with my arms, trying to stay above the surface, only to go under again. I thought, “one of the instructors will jump in and save me” but they never did. I don’t know how many times I went under, but they finally took a long pole and stuck it in the water. The first time it slipped through my hands. I was finally able to grab it and they pulled me in. I sat on the side of the pool, crying, choking, gasping for air. My mother took me home and I begged her not to make me go back. From that day on, I would never go into water unless I could touch bottom.

Flash forward to early 2007. I had decided I wanted to do a triathlon. I would have to learn to swim. I signed up for an 8-week course at the YMCA. I learned the crawl, but I had trouble with the breathing. Every time I crossed the line into the deep end of the pool I could feel my heart beat faster and I would have this overwhelming feeling that I couldn’t breathe.

I continued doing lap swims at the Bender city pool, but I couldn’t seem to go more than a few strokes before pulling my head out of the water. I decided to swim the Pigman that way. Needless to say, I recorded one of the slowest swim times in the entire race.

Midwest Xtreme formed shortly thereafter. At the first group swim Greg Bodeker saw my swim style and said “You can’t swim like that.” He told me I was using too much energy. I would have to really learn to swim.

I spent the next two seasons doing hours and hours of lap swims, but I still couldn’t breathe. I used to cry because I was so frustrated. Why couldn’t I get it? What did the other swimmers know that I didn’t? My times got a little better, but that seemed to be due to endurance and not technique. I knew I needed help. I talked to my swim buddy, Cole Stepanek, about getting a swim coach. She said we should go to Masters.

I knew a lot of triathletes went to Masters. I felt intimidated and I didn’t want everyone to know how bad I was. That first night Cole called me to make sure I was going (I almost chickened out) and I found my place in the slow lane.

Coach Nick immediately declared that “he could take 10 minutes off my time.” I think I became Nick and John’s special project. They worked with me on my breathing and my stroke. I felt humiliated and singled out, but I knew they had helped me. Cole called me before the next practice to make sure I was going. Part of me never wanted to go back, but I swallowed my pride and went.

There was so much to remember and I felt like I was on information overload. Nick broke it down for me. “Just try to swim from one end of the pool to the other without stopping,,,and then do it again.” That became my focus. Even though it felt like my lungs would burst, I kept going. When I swam the length of the pool for the first time I could feel the tears in my eyes. I had done it! What other people take for granted, was a major accomplishment for me. “Just do it again,” I said. I swam back and resisted that urge to pull my head out of the water. “You can breathe. You are not going to drown,” I convinced myself. I was actually swimming!

During one practice Nick announced we were going to do a 500-yard timed-swim. We would all start at the same time. I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. I knew I was the slowest swimmer there and I envisioned swimming back and forth, long after everyone else had finished, Sure enough, I was out there by myself.

I was surprised to find Jody Rausch, MWX member and USAT coach, waiting at the far end of the pool. She was there to cheer me on. “You’re not a quitter,” she said, using my own words from a previous column. I kept going. When I finished that final lap everyone was congratulating me and fist-bumping me, like I had been first instead of last. I was receiving the same support here that I received from the tri club. I was starting to feel good about swimming.

I have a goal: to swim a mile at the Hy-Vee Triathlon. I have a lot of work to do, but with the support of MWM and MWX, I feel like I am a little closer. Above all, you have to keep tri-ing!

The Season That Almost Wasn't

December is a good time to look back at the year—what went wrong and what went right. I had my best season…but it almost was the season that wasn’t.

My confession…I almost quit doing triathlons in 2008. I had just completed my first Trihawk. Things did not go well. I remember starting the run and seeing that the rest of my club had already finished the race. I was embarrassed, frustrated, depressed. Why was I doing this? It was only my fourth triathlon, but I had not seen any improvement in my times from my first one. “I really suck at this,” I said to myself.

I made up my mind that I was just going to quit. What stopped me? It was the Midwest Xtreme Tri Club. I love being in the club. I love being a part of something and most of all, I love the people in the club. They really are like my brothers and sisters. I knew quitting would mean giving that up.

So…I made a deal with myself. I would work really hard in the off-season and try to improve. I would have one more season…one year to prove I belonged. I worked on improving my skills. I got stronger and faster. I made the commitment to be a triathlete.

My third Pigman came around in June. I had trained hard for this moment and now I would see if it had paid off. When the dust settled I had improved my Pigman time by 12 minutes! I had a long ways to go, but I was finally making progress.

I went on to do three triathlons and five running races…and I PRed every race. I even ran my first Half Marathon, something that was unimaginable to me. It was my dream season of sorts. And when things got tough in each race I would say to myself, “there is no quit in you.” Quitting was no longer an option and I’m so glad I gave myself a second chance.

I have BIG plans for next year and I want to take my triathlons and running to the next level. Each race this year gave me greater confidence and the support of the MWX club has been a big part of that. You helped me live up to the words “Keep Tri-ing.” Thank you!