Skip to main content

Just 5 more days: Ironman CDA

For those who know me, you'll never find me sitting on my ass doing nothing. I’ve done about all the things a girl could do in the kitchen (dinners are prepared three nights in advance…) I even found myself peeling oranges because I had no other fruit to cut up. My only explanation is that, food that is ready to eat is food more likely to be eaten. I've moseyed around the yard, pulling weeds and tending to the vegetable garden. Since I have nothing left to do, I thought I'd write a little something for you instead. (By the end, you'll likely have suggestions of things I can do). 

I still remember 15 days ago when I found comfort in the fact I could still count the number of days to Ironman with my fingers and my toes. It leaves me a little disconcerted that I no longer need my toes or the fingers on my left hand. Only five fingers remain.

For the last few days, a number of events have preoccupied my time. I volunteered at the TriFusion Kids Triathlon by setting up on Friday, only to parade all the kiddos through transition the following Saturday morning. Later that afternoon, my family accompanied me to Cheney to watch me graduate (FINALLY!) with my Doctorate degree. I don’t think the sun could have beat down on Roos Field any more strongly than it did Saturday. My fellow classmates and I roasted underneath our black robes and felt doctoral hood.

Sunday, I ran my last longish (1-hour run), swam my last longish (1.2-mile swim), and enjoyed an afternoon recovery bike ride along the Centennial Trail. Today marks the 5th day out from Ironman Coeur d’Alene.

While I’m on the downward slide of my 3-week taper, I allowed myself an early morning ride this morning. After last night’s thunderstorm, the fresh, clean smell wafting from the verdant forests of Riverside State Park helped me forget about the road grime that splashed up onto my jersey and legs. Never mind the fact I’d washed my bike last night (having nothing better to do). I had plenty of time to clean it up again this morning when I was finished.

I seem to be handling this taper without too many qualms. Perhaps my nerves are a little vexed, my mind a little uncertain, my muscles a little confused. Sure, I’ve cried more times in the last two weeks than I can remember crying in a 5-month span. What’s scarier is not knowing exactly why tears form in my eyes. All I know is: Sunday, I will run a race I swore I’d never do. I will showcase a body hardened by over a year’s worth of training. I will rely on the cheers, encouraging words, and fist pumps from a crowd filled with family, friends, and people simply inspired by the sport itself.

Join me in Coeur d’Alene this Sunday, June 23. When you see number 302, tell her to keep moving. Encourage her to stay within herself. Remind her she signed up for this out of her own aspiration. Tell me to breathe.


Popular posts from this blog

How strong are your feet?

Who knew my first post in 2020 would be about the work I'm doing on my feet. Not just any work, but the work required to make them strong enough to propel me to faster running paces, the work to make them durable enough to heal up some old injuries and prevent new ones from taking hold. Jay Dicharry , a Physical Therapist and researcher in Bend, OR, says that almost all ankle, foot, and lower leg injuries can be attributed to faulty foot mechanics and a weak foot core.  I listened to him speak on a podcast called Trail Runner Nation today, and all the advice he provided me during my two personal visits with him last year rushed back in a torrent of memory. It seems fitting that his reminders would hit me like a hammer over my head when I consider the nagging foot pain that has cropped up again over the past couple of weeks. I'm going back to my toe yoga, short foot exercises, and working hard to build up the strength in my foot intrinsic muscles. Meanwhile, here's a b

My opinion...For what it's worth

My first Half Ironman 70.3 turned into Boise 29.3. I may be the only one to say that I respect the officials' judgment call on this one, because apparently, a few of my triathlete comrades lack sufficient brains themselves. The comments I'm reading on Facebook leave me pretty disturbed. Let me just put this out there: I entered this sport because it looked tough and challenging. It pushes anyone who enters these races to their ultimate limits and requires a demanding amount of time to complete the training necessary to succeed. I entered this sport because of the people. Healthy, smart, fit, inspiring, motivating. I can't think of a single person who has questioned my ability to participate in this sport. I entered this sport because anyone can do it. I passed people younger and older than me, some as old as 74. I watched one woman hobble along the run course, surely just on her first lap. She looked like her knees were going to cave in. Yet she was running. I did not ent

It is finished

As with everything in life, nothing stays the same. Change is inevitable. It does not always mean it's a turn for the worst. In my case, I think this is a change for the better. As of 2021, I am closing the door on racing triathlon and rekindling my investment in the doctorate degree I worked for in Physical therapy. Thankfully, making money again has felt much more productive than losing it in the pursuit of professional triathlon. Thankfully, my body has responded positively to a slackened training schedule. Thankfully, my head is clearer for the release in pressure to perform.  I needed a new pursuit, a new challenge, a new endeavor. Raising and showing my dogs has helped me slow down, challenged me to learn and communicate differently, and taught me that physical fitness can still be achieved to a lesser, healthier extent.  It has worked so well that I'm also going back to doing what I loved to do 10 years ago. Pursuing a more simple lifestyle (outside of work, of course) a