It’s no secret one of my favorite movies is “(500) Days of Summer.” Coincidentally (I promise) my crush on Tom Hansen began shortly after a break up last May and I have been known to watch this movie multiple times a month (okay week) regardless of my super exciting love life (sarcasm). So, I’ll pretty much jump at any chance to make a 500DoS reference. This is a weak attempt, but here I go.This year there are 98 days from Memorial Day until Labor Day and here is a list of goals and things I’m looking forward to this season.
1.Grow edible plants on my patio – this has been a goal for some time now. About a month ago, I picked up starter kits (the one for carrots and lettuce was geared toward kids ages 8-14) and gave it a go. Currently dill is in the lead and about to be put into a grown-up pot. I’m secretly cheering for cilantro, so I can throw myself a Mexican fiesta! I will update at the end of summer.
2.Try 2 new recipes a month – preferably with herbs and veggies from number 1. “I’m stalking…I mean I’m starving.”
3.Make days off true days off – this means don’t try and “make up” any workouts missed or stay out late doing non-triathlon things. It’s meant to be a rest day, so I must rest – feet up, stress free, clear the mind and recharge.
4.Play tennis and golf - two of my sports in high school were “country club sports” or ones I can play the rest of my life. Sidebar: tiny Mora, MN doesn’t scream “country club” in the slightest. It might scream small town, meth lab, or teen pregnancy, but not country club. (No offense, Mora, I still love you…just happy I don’t live there anymore and like many, clung to sports rather than small town riffraff). Anyway, I need to brush up on my tennis and golf skills before I head to Minnesota for the Knutson Family Reunion in July. It's gonna be awesome.
5. Clean out my closet and bike storage space – I have no need for the grocery bags full of old race shirts or bike tubes. I just need to find a place that will recycle my punctured bike tubes. After some summer cleaning, I’d like to restock my wardrobe with some cute workout clothes from brands like Oiselle.
6. Maintain gallery of photos in the kitchen – we live in a world of Facebook and Instagram, but rarely do we print and share photos. Like I always say, “I only hang out with good looking people,” so I need to make sure I keep the photos up to date. So smile pretty, my friends. You can expect more printed photos this year.
**Yes it annoys me that I can't figure out how to indent 5 and 6 like the others. (shakes fist)
7.Spend tons of time in Eastern WA – best friend Sydnie has a house (it’s her dad’s) in Orondo, WA. It’s just east of Lake Chelan on the Columbia River. It is the perfect training center for triathletes. Our routine revolves around workouts and eating. Everything else just falls into place.
Riding in Eastern WA
8.Spectate at least 1 race – Over the years I’ve had so many friends cheering for me on the sidelines. I feel like I do a crappy job at giving back from this angle due to my own racing and training schedule. So this year I’m blocking out July 15th to cheer for my teammates and friends at Lake Stevens 70.3. Double cowbell even.
9.Do something very Pacific Northwest: I haven’t decided what this is yet. Last year I spent a weekend in the San Juan Islands for my friends’ wedding and went to the Hood Canal for a bachelorette party. I’m thinking of biking up Hurricane Ridge or something else on the Olympic peninsula.
10.Besides all this, I’m loving my summer training rituals: Friday morning lake swims, sweaty runs, long bike rides wearing sunglasses, races, training camps, running relays, easy rides in Seattle after work, and lots of laughs.
I encourage you to make a list of your own. In the end, perhaps your expectations won’t align with reality, but it’s fun to plan and fun to dream. Don’t forget the sunscreen.Happy Summer!
Apologies for taking so long to write this race report. I somewhat unplugged from triathlon post-race and struggled whether or not to write about all the details of just how slow and tough of a day it was at Ironman St. George 2012.
Let me start off
by saying, I absolutely love Ironman training. There is something about a 6
hour ride on tired legs followed by an hour run that, although difficult, pumps
the endorphins, encourages, and fulfills me. My training for Ironman St. George
basically began in January after a post-Kona offseason. My coach had me ready
to race, but I will admit the 4 months leading up to race day certainly lacked
some of the “fun” workouts I’ve had in the past when training for a later
season race. I didn’t have the Friday morning lake swims followed by coffee
with my teammates. There were no track workouts in shorts and sports bras. And
I rarely had a long ride without my rain bike and multiple layers of clothing.
I knew this would be the case training in Seattle for a race in early May. And perhaps in
the end it was only fitting to have some of my toughest training parlay into
the absolute toughest racing conditions I’ve ever seen. And so it goes, my 2012
Ironman St. George race report:
Race morning went off without a hitch. David, Adam, and I were shuttled out to
Sand Hallow and I made sure to have adequate sunscreen, air in my tires,
nutrition on my bike, and pumped up confidence from my coach and teammates. I
was calmer than I have been in the past and ready to do some work. By the time teammate
Joanna and I got into Sand Hallow Reservoir, the water was also calmer than it
had been in the past. It looked like it was going to be a great swim.
SWIM: I positioned myself aggressively, ready to put up with whatever punching
and wrestling of an Ironman swim start to get that swim PR that I had set my
eyes on. I lined up a couple rows back in line with the buoys and swam hard
when the gun went off –50 strokes as hard as I could and then settled onto some
quicker feet. It was a great start for me and I thought I was in a good spot.
Near the first buoy I could feel waves and thought it might be boat traffic.
When I made the first turn, however, everything changed. It wasn’t boat traffic
at all; it was fully fledged whitecaps and fairly big swells. Sighting after
the first turn became increasingly difficult and all the athletes spread out. I
tried my best to remain calm, but definitely went from trying to swim a big PR
to not finish with a personal worst. Finally, finally! I was headed to the swim
exit and popped out of the water in 1:21:14 (shockingly in 5th for my age
group). T1 was quick and I felt a little better when I noticed so many bikes
and gear bags in transition; already the day was looking tough on everyone.
Completely calm swim start
Choppy waters mid-swim
YouTube clip from AtoZion swim coverage:
BIKE: During the swim, I kept thinking "just get on the bike...I know it
will be tough, but get on the bike, that's your thing." Well, the bike was
harder than the swim. My immediate thought at mile 1 was "Kona
winds." It was a constant grind and struggle to stay upright the entire
way. The bike course in St. George was a ~20 mile stretch from the swim to town
and then two 45 mile loops. The first 20 miles are relatively flat, a net
descent, and one of the faster sections on the course. When I got to mile 20 I
was averaging 17.7mph and knew things would only get slower. They did, of
course. I hit the halfway mark in something ridiculously slow, then got a
little break and could ride in my big ring on the long descent back to town before starting the second
loop. The second loop was a little less windy, but not much. I finished the
bike in 6:43...only about an hour longer than planned. So, um, yeah.
Mile 1: The wind already reminds me of Hawi...this is not good.
It honestly
didn’t even feel like I was racing on the bike; it felt like I was just holding
on. I do my best work when I can attack a hill, quickly recover,
and attack again. I could do this all day; it reminds me of my cross country
ski days and the technique we used in getting up and down hills all over
northern Minnesota. I don’t think I necessarily do my best work when it’s a
constant grind for hours, like it was in St. George or like it is in parts of
Kona. It was a very tough ride and I hope I never have to spend that much time
in my small ring ever again!!
RUN: The run felt like the only real “race” part of the day. I felt like I
could finally settle in and tried pacing myself evenly enough to be strong at
the finish. I saw Adam, Kainoa, and Laurie on the first loop and still felt
good. The second loop I began to slow down until I saw Coach K on the course.
She told me I was one of the stronger looking female runners on the course and
I felt like I couldn’t let her down. But then reality set in and it came in the
form of tired legs from being on the bike for so long. My 7:50 miles turned
into 8s, then 9s, then 10s, then some walking and choking down chicken broth
before jogging again. I was passed by a girl with “29” on her leg, but after
seeing her race number I realized she was in my age group and let out a stream
of expletives. I noticed another girl creeping up behind me, so at mile 25 I
kicked it into full gear and cranked out a 7:10 (it was downhill, mind you).
Alas, the finish line with a 3:50 marathon. I had a personal worst swim and
bike, so was a bit relieved not to have my worst run. Far from a personal best,
but silver linings, right?
Still smiling...must be early on the run
I finished the day in with a new personal worst - 11:58:54, approximately 10
minutes slower than my first Ironman when I trained without a coach and didn’t
know the importance of aero anything. I don't know how big the swells were
(maybe up to 3-4 feet) or exactly how strong the wind was (30-40mph?), but it
was absolutely my toughest day of racing. In "normal" conditions, I’d
like to believe I would have finished 60-90 minutes faster. It was hard on
everyone and I was shocked to find out that my lackluster sub-12 finish put me
near the top 100 finishers (men, women, pros, and amateurs) for the day. I
realize this is a much different field, but for a funny comparison - in Kona
last year over a thousand people finished under 11 hours. And now I'm still
shaking my head that a day of "personal worsts" still put me in 2nd for my age group. It was unlike any other race and knocked me out so hard that
it really didn't even feel like a "race" in terms of strategy,
pacing, and focus that I'm used to applying in Ironman.
Headed to the finish a bit later than originally planned
Post-race: After meeting up with Kainoa,
Laurie, David, and Adam, I stuffed my face with pizza, coke, chocolate milk,
and french fries. I then made the obligatory friend and family phone calls,
took a beer shower, lied around for a while, went to Denny's for some pretty
disgusting greasy food (and hilarious people watching) before heading to the
finish line to cheer for the midnight finishers. The finish line scene at
midnight always puts a smile on my face and makes me appreciate this sport I'm
committed to.
I guess you need to be tall to win this AG - nice work 30-34'ers!
Sunday morning we attended the awards ceremony
and Kona roll down before driving to Las Vegas. I earned my spot to Kona (there
were 3 in my AG), but begrudgingly declined. It was a lot harder than I thought
it would be, especially knowing my teammate and “Ironman big brother” Aaron
Burby would be racing this year. But I know my body can’t handle an “A” race in
September (Ironman Wisconsin) and Kona in October. Sunday afternoon/evening we
lounged by the pool at The Venetian, went out to dinner, had some cocktails,
and hung out on the strip. It was a fun ending to a tough race weekend.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little
disappointed about my race. Getting passed by a girl in my AG within the last 5
miles of the marathon was not what I set out to do. But then I have to remind
myself how I was getting pummeled in the water while coughing up parts of Sand
Hallow Reservoir or how my only chance on the bike was to remain in my small
ring much longer than I wanted while hoping to break 7 hours. I definitely have
mixed emotions about this race. Due to the tough conditions, it’s hard for me
to gauge they type of improvement since my last Ironman. Since I’m somewhat
obsessed with numbers, I’d give almost anything to know what my final result
would have been in normal conditions. (yeah, yeah a Powertap, which I’ve yet to
invest in, would give me data, but still a normal day wouldn't put me out on
the bike course for close to 7 hours). But I guess that’s what keeps things
interesting?
Some races have perfect endings, Ironman Coeur
d’Alene 2010 and 2011 come to mind, and others leave you with a new
appreciation for your own grit and stores of mental toughness. I’m bummed that
I didn’t reach my pacing or placing goals, but there are no excuses; it was a
very hard day and A LOT of girls were faster than me. Beyond that my other
goals, like always, were to remain tough and take pride in my racing. I can
wholeheartedly say the 2012 Ironman St. George will forever be a day where I
met these goals and went beyond them.
A
round of thanks:
Adam and David – Prior to this trip, I didn’t know you guys well, but after a
few off color jokes and discussions from our favorite energy gels to the number
of bathroom stops on race morning (3), I knew we’d be fast friends. You were
the best travel buddies. So when’s our next race trip?
Laurie
Kutter – Mother Kutter, you surprised me with a trip to come watch this race;
you are so sneaky. Thank you for all the great pictures. And like always, thank
you for being such a wonderful supporter and friend.
Coach
K – Thank you, Kainoa, for getting me to the start line fit, focused, and
injury-free. And thank you for flying to St. George for this race. I’m looking
forward to the “fun” workouts you have planned for me this summer.
My
friends, family, and teammates – thank you for putting up with me all winter
and spring, my bouts of crabbiness after long, cold, wet days on the bike aren’t
easy on anyone. Thank you for all the kind messages before and after the race.
And mostly, thank you for your kindness each and every day.
The
2012 race season is certainly not over. After some much needed recovery, I am
looking forward to setting new goals, hours of training, and fun workouts as I
prepare for Ironman Wisconsin in September.
If I had to train at peak volumes, stay extremely rested with good sleep, pack for an Ironman trip, tie up loose ends at work, and spend some time visualizing for race day, my head would implode and I’d never reach the start line. Luckily, my workouts have been a piece of cake lately, there’s been no need to get up too early, and I’ve taken advantage of those luxurious moments by keeping my feet up sitting on my balcony, my couch, or my friends’ dock. And during this time, I’ve been able to think a lot about race day.
Visualization has always been an important part of my athletic success. Throughout my years of junior golf and well into college, I was taught to visualize the shot I wanted to hit. Yes, golf was my main athletic focus from age 12-22, though toward the end it started to fade as I decided I liked running better. Don't tell my dad or my college golf coach; I digress. I remember being pretty young (probably 9 or 10) and my dad teaching me this lesson: “What do you do if I tell you not to think about pink elephants? You’ll think about pink elephants! Instead of thinking ‘don’t hit the ball in the water’ which will probably make you hit the ball in the water, think of hitting your ball on the green. Picture what you want to do.” That sort of positive thinking helped me win several golf tournaments over the years.
Before I’d tee off, I’d picture myself hitting my drive into the fairway. But I’d be really specific – I wouldn’t just look at the big green fairway, I’d focus on what side of the fairway, clearing the bunker, just past that dead patch of grass, over that mound, left of the 150 steak or wherever it was that would set me up for a good second shot. I can still picture shots I’d want to hit on some of my old courses. If I was on the green and had a long putt, I’d read the break and visualize my ball rolling into the hole. And if it was a short putt, I’d see my ball hit dead center into the bottom of the cup.
So again for the next few days, I will spend some time being very specific visualizing my race. From where I’m going to line up for the swim, getting from one buoy to the next, exiting the water, the quick motions in T1 (shoes, race belt, GU flask, helmet, glasses), mounting my bike, specific parts of the bike course, dismounting my bike, getting through T2 quickly, every single turn on the run course, and all the way through to the finish line. The first year I qualified for Kona, I didn’t tell people this, but I pictured myself on the podium winning my age group. And guess what happened? Within a mile of the run, I was in first place (the memory of my coach telling me this still gives me chills)! I won my age group by 9 minutes and got to walk up to the top of the podium just like I imagined.
I’m not saying this works out so successfully every time, but it does help. Envisioning race day and how I want it to turn out has also helped alleviate some pre-race anxiety. Granted, I know there are things I cannot predict, but I feel confident in my experience and training to be adequately prepared on Saturday.
Best of luck to everyone racing this weekend! Take a few moments this week to focus on the positive and then let it all unfold on your big day. Dream on.
Picturing my next Ironman finish using images from CdA 2011 I'm the one in orange and yes, I passed that guy.
That time was last Wednesday. I'd be lying if I said this never happened. It had actually been since 2010 Kona training. It’s the point in your training when you have a breakdown. Why did it happen when I was the only girl in my lane? Tired, beaten, sore, tight, tired, I was OTB (off the back) set after set after set. Then one of the guys gave me a smile, acknowledging that I was having a tough go. That’s when I lost it. I kept thinking of the title of Amanda Beard’s book, “In the Water They Can’t See You Cry.” Unlike Beard, my story isn’t one of prodigy, recreational drugs, depression, and Olympic medals. My tears were probably something most of us go through: feelings of doubt as we approach a big race when we’ve trained tirelessly. I tried to keep it together as much as possible through the rest of the workout, even though it’s hard to breath when you’re crying. After my warm down, I needed a heart to heart with my coach.
Kainoa (Coach K) had all the right things to say, reminding me when you’re tired you resort to your bad habits in the pool, which didn’t help my cause that morning. But more importantly, reminding me that it was a tough build, how much she’s pushed me, that the St. George course will play toward my strengths, I often compare my swim to people who’ve been in the water their whole life, and ever so sincerely, “I love how hard you’ve worked,” as she gave me the big, wet, chlorine hug that I needed.
Later that morning I received emails from two different friends reminding me that one bad workout isn’t a trend, and once I start to feel more rested “this cloudiness is going to pass and you’ll be smiling internally because you love this sport and it fuels you!” This is true; triathlon has given me so many reasons to be happy over the past few years and I do love this sport. But despite the fact that I’m often a very upbeat, positive, happy to be doing what I’m doing person, I also put a lot of pressure on myself. And it breaks my heart when a workout feels like I’m taking steps backwards (which probably would have been faster than how I was swimming that day). And another friend told me, “Feel free to have all the breakdowns you need…it’s a good sign that you have put everything into your training and are depleted.”
During a big training build, we dig from the deepest trenches of our physical and mental stores. I’m not much of a crier, but sometimes a good breakdown is a reminder of the fact that I put a lot of heart into this sport. We all do. And then days, weeks, or months later, we’re reminded of the bad days that make us appreciate the good days and the whole process that makes me fall in love with life over and over again.
I'm fine now, great actually. I just got back from a fun weekend of training near Lake Chelan with some awesome friends. My legs are starting to feel fresh, I'm not tired all the time, and my weekend workouts were long enough to not go crazy and short enough to relax most of the day. Besides that, I was able to unplug from the triathlon world for a bit and just laugh and enjoy some fresh air and sunshine. It was just what I needed.
Ah yes, first race of the year… always somewhat of a cluster and a dress rehearsal before the “A” races get underway. It’s a good chance to dust off the triathlon gear, test where fitness has gone over the winter, and remember the ups and downs (mostly ups) that go along with racing.
Pre-race: Sydnie, Tesia, Alicia, and I flew out of Seattle on Thursday night after work and landed in San Diego pretty late. We were delighted to arrive at our condo where two of our teammates (Robin and Katherine) had already checked in. They surprised us with Easter eggs filled with GU packets, a Bonk Breaker bar, and sweet notes on our pillows. These types of thoughtful gestures absolutely warm my heart. Friday morning was filled with packet pick-up, an expo walkthrough, a little bike, a little run, and a little splash around in the ocean to get a feel for the temps and make sure my wetsuit still fit. Luckily, it did. Friday evening, I picked up a friend who had flown in from San Francisco, and then we headed back to the condo for some pasta, last minute race prep, and early bedtimes.
Saturday morning: Our condo was less than a mile from the finish, so the six of us racing were up early to bring our bikes to T1 to claim decent bike spots. We pumped up our tires and then strolled back to the condo to finish our breakfasts and stay off our feet until we had to head back to transition. By 6:45am we were slipping into our wetsuits (and by slipping, I mean the wedging, wetsuit workout dance). Katherine and Robin started in the waves ahead of us, but Syd, Tesh, Alicia, and I were able to line up together in the 7:33 wave. After a quick “Happy Birthday” announcement to Tesia by Mike Riley, we were plunging into the cold water and swimming out to the start buoys.
Swim: My plan for the swim was to try and push it more than I have in the past and simulate the tempo of swimming harder sets in the pool. I got on the feet of a girl in a sleeveless wetsuit and managed to stick with her. Sighting and swimming through the earlier waves was pretty rusty and at the first turn sleeveless wetsuit girl and I cut in too sharp. The paddle boards told us we were going to miss a buoy, so zigzagged out to the far buoy and made the correct turn. I’d say this mistake cost me at least 90 seconds. Finally I was headed back to the swim exit with a disappointing 35:38 swim split. Even after overcoming a shoulder injury that kept me out of the pool for 2 months, I’ve put in a lot of swim yardage this season and am very eager (close to the point of tears - like I did this morning) to post a good swim time. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming.
Bike: After a bit of fumbling in T1, I was on my bike and ready to make up some time. Being in one of the later waves and also being a stronger cyclist, I knew I would spend most of the day passing people. Most people who follow the WTC circuit already know that Oceanside 2012 wasn’t the typical sunny, warm beach race that it should be. It was in the 50s, cloudy, and rainy. I was warm enough without arm warmers, but there were definitely a couple times when I thought, “this is not fun.” (This rarely happens when I’m on a bike.) It was also not fun during the 10 mile stretch when I lost my gel flask stuffed in my sports bra, one water bottle containing energy drink, and last but not least, my water bottle that contained both of my spare tubes and flat kit. When I lost my repair kit, I hesitated and considered stopping, turning back, and grabbing it. But it was on a fast descent and not a safe area to turn back. So, I rolled the dice and hoped I didn’t flat (spoiler alert: luckily, I didn’t). Lessons learned: if you put your spare tubes in a water bottle, tape the bottle to the cage.
I rode strong, but never had the “get up and go” pep that I normally do when I’m well rested. Considering my taper was quite short leading into this race, it was no surprise. I felt good on the hills and just okay everywhere else. I was hoping to ride under 2:40, but came up just short with 2:41:21. I was not a fan of the change on the bike course that moved T2 near the pier. Athletes had to ride single file for a stretch of The Strand to finish off the bike. I was cruising behind two guys at a measly 15mph when I wanted to be coming in hot.
Run: I started off with enough pep and ran strong through the first 7 miles. Coach K thought I was in maybe 6th place (I was in 9th – ouch) off the bike, so I had some major ground to make up. I was picking girls off, but with a two loop course and one of the later waves, it was hard to figure out where I stood. It was fun seeing so many friends racing and cheering for me on the course. I faded a bit at miles 8, 11, and 12. It was nothing disastrous; my slowest mile was a 7:26, but when you’re trying to run sub 1:30, anything in the 7:00s doesn’t help your cause. I think I passed the 4th place girl around mile 9 and held my ground from there. Looking back, I feel like I could have pushed the run harder in the later miles. I didn’t see anyone to catch, but in hindsight I shouldn’t worry about that. I need to focus on my own performance and summon motivation internally. I was pleased with a 1:32:01 run, but not ecstatic. More fuel for the next 70.3 fire.
Finish: After I crossed the finish line (and got my finish line hug of course), I knew it wasn’t the race of my life, but I did know it was a PR (by 5 minutes). Everything was just a little slower than I had hoped for or really expected. But there are a lot of days when you have to accept that some race performances are part of the process of a bigger goal. Oceanside 2012 was both a confidence and fitness boost. I know I’m stronger, fitter, faster, and smarter than I was a year ago. I’m also older; I had to age up to the W30-34 age group this year. So instead of the winning the W25-29, which I would have done this year, I was happy with a podium spot in my new AG. I finished in 4:54:20. I was 3rd in my age group, the 4th Amateur, and 20th OA female.
Post-race: After the race I ran into other friends who were finishing, stumbled around, ate some pizza, drank some chocolate milk, and then met up with Zach who acted sincere when he told me he had fun watching. The rest of the day was spent attending awards, lounging at the condo with my friends, eating Mexican food with my team, and then getting birthday cocktails for Tesia’s 32nd birthday. It was a wonderful day for our whole group and so much fun to have a girls’ getaway that included a race. How did I end up so lucky to have friends like this?
Sunday was spent sleeping in, napping on the beach, and going out to a fancy dinner in Del Mar where we consumed a couple slices of Jake’s Del Mar Hula Pie. Monday morning Tesia, Sydnie, Alicia, and I did an easy shake out run on The Strand before packing up the condo and heading back to Seattle. The weekend was filled with so many laughs and memories that it somewhat overshadowed race day, which was fine with me. It was a great way to start the 2012 season, a warm welcome into my new age group, and very promising for all of us. I think we are all now eager to focus on areas that need work and get ready for the next big race. For me the next big one is less than 3 weeks away when I toe the line at Ironman St. George (cue nervous panic).
Sorry this took so long to write. The two weeks after Oceanside were not so much recovery and downtime, but rather a pretty big block of training. Luckily, I survived my monster weekend and have started my Ironman taper. I’m hopeful that I will stop sucking at life, but no promises.
Although I love celebrations and recognizing holidays, I’m not really a big birthday party person. However, when you change decades (and age groups) your friends certainly don’t let you off the hook when it comes to ridiculousness. Hence the title of this post and the chosen theme for my birthday run/party.
The fancy celebrating was done in Southern California when my friends and I traveled down to Oceanside 70.3. But there also needed to be a Seattle celebration. My 30th was on April 3rd, but since I like to ride hills on Tuesdays, I opted to celebrate on the 4th and my friends obliged – true friends won’t screw with your training routines! So Tesia and Alicia hosted a birthday pub run with a few of my favorite people. It was modeled after the “holidazzle” (which I love) with a couple bar stops. We were asked to dress up and bring food for Mexican fare. The invitation said, “Girls – wear something flirty and fun. Guys – please wear something.” I opted for my favorite running skirt (worn only for themed runs and walking around Kona), a pink top, pink striped gym socks, and a sparkly headband from Sydnie.
We all met around 6:30, started our 6-mile loop around Greenlake, took pictures, had a lot of laughs, and shuffled up the hill to some bars on Phinney Ridge. Several of us were fresh off Oceanside 70.3 or Leadman125, so a shakeout run was just what we needed. The first bar stop was for a champagne toast at “In the Red” and the second was at “Prost” for shared boots of beer.
Here are some pictures:
After the run we gathered for Mexican food and sundaes! I haven’t really worried about my age for the past few years. Growing up I always thought, for no particular reason, 24 was the magical age when I would become a real adult. But then 24 came and went and I didn’t really feel any more grown up. And since then, I haven’t looked back. Celebrating entry into a new decade with running and friends was just perfect! Thanks to everyone who came out, tied one on, and ran around the neighborhood laughing. I am so lucky to have these type of friends who inspire me and make me laugh every day.
Up next, my Oceanside 70.3 race report. I usually get these written up fairly quickly, but I'm in my last big push of Ironman training and this week is currently kicking my butt.
For my 30th birthday, I wanted to write a Top 30 list of advice, but it turns out I'm not that wise. I also thought about a chronological highlights list for each year of my life, but who would want to read that?! Instead I went out and celebrated the best way I know how: with a race. I traveled down to southern California for Oceanside 70.3 with some really great friends. I'll write my race report and weekend recap later (spoiler alert: it was awesome).
After my first year in Kona I included this in my race report: "I realize my life is measured in miles and miles and miles, race finishes, Mylar blankets, post-race celebrations, finish line hugs, training partners, friends who support my hours of training, family who will watch me race, digging deep, recovery months, and enjoying the race. All of it. Life really isn’t what I expected it to be at 28. I didn’t know I’d get to swim, bike, and run all over some really great places and into the arms of my family, friends, coaches and teammates." A year and a half later, as I turn the page into another decade, it couldn't be more true. Life gets better with each race memory. I don't know if or when I'll ever grow up, but I do know that I have a really fun life and I am surrounded by truly kind and inspiring friends and family.
Every year is a gift and I am lucky to have 30 of them.
