Running with The Divas

When I first moved to Seattle in 2004, I quickly made friends by inserting myself into a running group. Soon Wednesday nights at the store turned into Saturday mornings with the girls and I was regularly running with Sherry, Lori, and Susan in West Seattle followed by coffee and pastries. We all had different lives and goals and backgrounds, but we were old souls and adored our time together. A few more regulars joined (Jill, then Lane, then Hannah) and there were a couple other guest appearances along the way. We referred to the regulars as “the divas” and loved our Saturday morning miles. But we loved each other more and that’s what made it special. Over the years, we had ups and downs individually, but we remained close and always had words of wisdom and laughs to build each other back up again. I’m sure it’s a similar bond that most female running groups share. No matter what issue life threw at us (illness, divorce, jobs, adoption, kids, spouses, boyfriends, friends, family, etc.), together we held each other up.

But as the years wore on, lives changed. Hannah moved to New York, Sherry San Francisco, Lane Boston. Lori opened a running store and my long run days are now mid-week, so I can bike both days on the weekend. Unless someone is visiting or I have a rest week or Lori has the day off from the shop, Jill and Susan are basically the only ones who’ve kept up our Saturday morning tradition. We all acknowledge this change and have kept up with each other in other ways – dinners, drinks, emails. I know; not as fun as running, but we still know the big things in each others’ lives – family, jobs, races, health.

Happy times with the divas at Lane's wedding in 2010

 

I will never forget the phone call I received from Jill on August 9, 2013 at 2:42pm. She called from Susan’s house and wanted to let me know, because I would start seeing it on the news, that Bill and Max (Susan’s husband and son) were flying on the east coast and their plane went down. I had flashbacks to 2009 when I was with Susan after Bill had flown from Astoria, OR and his plane crashed in the Columbia River. Jill, Sherry, Susan, and I had been on Bill’s plane 20 minutes prior when he flew us from Seattle to the Oregon coast for a girls' weekend. This time, he and Max were out visiting colleges on the east coast. I kept waiting for Jill to say that Bill and Max were fine, but they weren’t.

Susan and her two daughters, Ellie and Lucy, have been surrounded by friends and family since the morning of the crash. I attended a memorial for Bill and Max last Thursday and was overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and remembrance by family, friends, and people in the community. Bill was a brilliant, loving, compassionate, motivated man, yet humble, caring, and always thought of others first. Max was the most impressive teenager I've ever met - smart, hard-working, athletic, kind, and as his classmates said, "always talked to you like you mattered as much as anyone else." I was lucky to know both of these men through my dear running friend.

There is no limit to the number of tears or amount of heartache for Susan, Ellie, and Lucy, or for the families in Connecticut or for any of us who knew the victims of this tragedy. There's no instruction manual or training plan on how to cope or even what to say. But life will move on, because that is what Bill would have wanted for his wife and his daughters and his friends. And the divas will be there for Susan to help her regain any sense of normalcy she can, even if it starts as just one small portion of a Saturday morning run where she can remember a time before the accident. We will run with her and share many cups of coffee or tea or pastries or dinners or movies until things as simple as breathing or getting out of bed don’t hurt anymore. We’ll support our friend and be by her side whenever she needs us, no matter how big or small the task may be. We'll run side by side and help her take comfort in the friendships that were formed over the miles spent together many years ago.

With a heavy heart,
Cathleen

Kokua: Ultraman Canada

There are three words that are often used in Ultraman: Aloha – love, compassion, peace for many things throughout training and race weekend, Ohana – family, in the extended sense of the term, and Kokua – crew or support along the way. When I was asked to be part of the Kokua I knew the experience of Ultraman Canada would be fun and rewarding and something a little different for me, but I didn’t realize just how fun or how rewarding it would be. The weekend far exceeded my expectations and after every day of competition, I’d be saying or thinking, “this persons is SO nice,” “that swim time was insane,”  “that bike course is beautiful” or “did you hear that this person’s crew helped this athlete?” Whatever it was, I was impressed on a lot of levels – gratitude, strength, rigor, support, determination, and adventure!

Swim start - Skaha Lake. 29 athletes and kayaks

My friend John Bergen asked me to be part of his crew earlier this year. I’ve looked up to John for a long time, but particularly since before Ironman CDA in 2010 when he advised me: “Race smart, listen to your body, manage your nutrition, and mentally prepare to suffer… and I have no doubt we’ll be walking down to stairs together for the swim start in Kona!” The next day I won my age group and qualified for Kona where we were able to race together. John won Ultraman Canada in 2011 and is one of the toughest (and craziest) guys I know.

Over the past year he convinced our other teammate Aaron to sign up for the race, as well as two more PauoleSport guys who had been eyeing Ultraman for some time. Since they were all able to get in, John decided to commit to the race for a second time and pulled together a crew and his training. (Side note: he’s also getting ready for Ironman Louisville, so he decided to “train through” UMC without any taper. Crazy.) John’s sister Kathy, my boyfriend Gerry, and I made up John’s Kokua. Sydnie was up there crewing for our friend Aaron Postema, as was his wife (Ann), his sister-in-law (Ava), and his sister’s boyfriend (Brian). It was also really fun to have two other PauoleSport athletes, Greg Pelton and Brian Dillon there with us. The one downside of crewing is that you’re required to be at the athlete meetings on Thursday and Friday. Penticton and the Okanagan Valley is beautiful, so it’s fun to be up there, it would just be more fun to be up there on a bike! Friday afternoon there was one final meeting at the lake to assign kayaks. Sydnie, Aaron, Gerry and I were able to go for a swim and then it was an early dinner for our athletes before lights out for the night.

Part of the Day 2 bike course - I was able to get in a bike ride after the athletes were in on Day 1. Penticton and the Okanagan Valley is a great place to visit and workout.

For write ups on the days’ events and times, check out articles from Lava and slowtwitch here and here.

Saturday morning we gathered at Skaha Lake to send off the athletes and paddlers. Gerry was the paddler in our crew and kayaked next to John while he swam 10k. The lake conditions were perfect, but 10 kilometers is a freaking long way. After the start line ceremony and Canadian national anthem, Kathy, Sydnie, Ava, Ann, and I went to Starbucks. :) A couple hours later John got out of the water in 3rd place and with a quick transition was out on the run. As part of his crew, we set up his transition, helped him out of the water, and headed out on the road to get him iced sports drinks and water. The bike course on day one covers the majority of the old Ironman Canada course (new Challenge Penticton). It’s 90 miles and gorgeous and hilly. John rode well, but was not as strong as he wanted. He finished in a disappointing 5th place after day 1 and quickly realized how tough the competition was this year.

From Left: PauoleSport athletes, John getting ready to swim, Gerry getting ready to paddle

From Left: Craig Percival with the new swim course record (2:24:48), Dave Matheson, the eventual winner, exiting the water

10k swimming requires a little TLC getting out of the water

Sunday was the BIG bike day – 171.4 miles. Conditions, again, were perfect and the competition was tight. John was in the top group of guys who basically rode together (with enough space to not draft) through the first 120 miles. Even through the section referred to as “the wall” the top 5 riders were all pretty tight, which made it really exciting over 171.4 miles. As crew we hustled to have everything prepared and ready for our athlete and were able to see him every 5-10 miles. The scenery was amazing and part of me wanted to be out there riding too.

Bike course: Okanagan countryside on the bike course, Greg Pelton and Brian Dillon ride by on day 1, Gerry with a water stop on day 2

 

Day 3 is a 52.4 mile run over hilly back mountain roads. If you have to do a double marathon, it actually seemed like a pretty cool place to do it. It’s also the most exciting day for the crew, because you get to get on the road and run with the athletes as pacers. For the first marathon, John was able to run with one of the other athletes and only needed our help with getting proper fluids and nutrition. By mile 26, I jumped in and ran about 7 miles with him. Then Gerry jumped in and ran with John and then Kathy jumped in and ran with her brother. His pace slowed and as the miles wore on, he definitely needed more coaxing. But the wheels were certainly not coming off and we knew he was in a good position. There were a couple times we drove back to do time checks for him on some of the other competitors. With 8 miles to go, I jumped back in and ended up running him to the finish line. It was definitely a different spot to be in, as I encouraged my so called “Ironman big brother” to “just run 8:30 miles down this hill” and “keep moving forward when we give you water.” I just wanted to make sure he ran a race he could be proud of, and I’m sure he was. For the record, the downhill in the last few miles looked absolutely brutal on the athletes’ shredded legs. After 7 hours and 34 minutes of running and 3 full days of racing, John and his Kokua ran through the finish arch and he was done.

John and crew, run start, run course

 

And done! Notice my stumpy legs and
Gerry's shoes standing by.
Photo cred: Rick Kent (the Master)

After crossing the line it was a waiting game to see where the guys who had been in ahead of him after the first two days would finish the run. John’s 3rd place run finish time was good enough to move him from 4th place after day 2 to 2nd place after the run. He was about 12 minutes ahead of the 3rd and 4th place finishers who were separated by only 6 seconds! All of the athletes were true competitors and all-around upstanding people, great ambassadors for triathlon and an honor to support during the event. Aaron, Greg, Brian and their crews also finished all three days with lots of fun stories and memories from the weekend.

From left: Team Pelton at the finish, announcer Steve King, RD's Steve Brown and Jane Backus (photo cred: Rick Kent),
Women's champ (notice the Canadian beer in hand at Medical)

The actual race course is not supported, which is part of the reason athletes are required to bring a crew, but the race organizers have ice baths, massage therapists, a world-class announcer, food, music, and a beer garden at the finish line. Gerry and I were talking to race director, Steve Brown, as he was telling us about how he got into Ultraman. He said he liked the Ironman events, but when he saw Ultraman, he fell in love. It reminded him of what Ironman used to be like in the old days with the smaller venues (UMC caps it at 30 athletes to keep it small) and crazy adventure. I don’t know if I’ll be signing up for Ultraman anytime soon, but maybe someday. It definitely looks like a grueling race, but it’s so supported and intimate, that it makes it feel truly special. The slogan on the Ultraman Canada site reads: “We meet as strangers, we compete as friends, we part as family.” As part of the 2013 Kokua, it was definitely my experience.

Aloha,
Cathleen

Mid-Season Blues

I’ve been through this triathlon season cycle enough times to know that there will be times when the highs are really high and the lows can get low. And it seems like there is a period during the season when we all experience some mid-season blues. They aren’t to be confused with the post-season funk, pre-season anxiety, or the injury sulk. Based on the amount of whining (well warranted for some, in my opinion…) on social media, I’m not the only one. Some people get down when they are overwhelmed with training, but I find I struggle the most when I’m just past post-race and a little out of shape. And I noticed this happened in past years, as well. I’ve been a bit grumpy for a while, and I definitely saw it yesterday with certain frustrations.

 

Frustrations from work, frustrations from family, frustrations from the boyfriend, girlfriends, body aches, frustrations from not having a long, awesome bike ride in over a month, frustrations from a choppy swim that morning and gross lettuce in my Trader Joe’s salad – you name it, I had it! Normal Cathleen would look at this list and realize I have a good job, parents, although not entirely healthy, complete present, a boyfriend I love, wonderful girlfriends, outdoor yoga that evening to give me a good stretch, long rides coming up next month, glassy swims on other days, and snacks to enjoy the rest of the day. But I wasn’t being normal. I was being irrational and sulking in my mid-season blues and pondering my life’s trajectory and hoping for a sign that my life is ticking along at a steady progression instead of waiting for the next best thing or something that will catch me up to others my same age. (Not that I want to be married with kids right now or anything, but ya know sometimes those little rug rats are pretty cute. And I just start to wonder who said it was okay to start having kids now that we’re in our 30s…typical stuff).

 

I understand that sometimes in sports you need to get a little out of shape to come back stronger. And when your friends have different racing schedules, they are going to have fuller weeks during certain times of the year. There’s no need for workout envy; training goes in cycles. And even though it’s summer and you’re healthy and you feel like you should be living life to the fullest, sometimes the fullest you can muster on a Saturday morning is a lake swim, the Oiselle sample sale, washing your car, and a three hour nap (my last Saturday – for the record, I ran an 8k that night and came in 7th!). My fitness will come back when it’s time to start building again and I can take solace in knowing I’m not digging myself into a training hole with my three hour naps. But this routine, or lack of routine, is so unlike me that it sometimes gets me a little down.

 

So, I wanted to use this tiny space on the Internet to tell myself (and my handful of readers) that:



Before I turn this post into a Mike Reilly tagline talking about how the one thing I can control is my attitude while "Teenage Wasteland" fades out (Ironman athletes, you know what I'm talking about) I’m packing up the car and heading up to Penticton, British Columbia. My best friend Sydnie and I are crewing for two of our teammates racing Ultraman. I’m determined to get out of this rut and a long weekend away feels like the timing couldn’t be more perfect. Granted, this trip has been planned for weeks, but in a way I feel like I’m adjusting my sails and doing something different. I hope that any of you struggling with some of the season’s lows are able to acknowledge it, figure out what you need to do to resolve it, and sail on.

Loads of Heart,
CK

2013 Part 2

When it came to ski trips my grandfather had this theory: “You can’t end one without planning the next.” I like to apply the same rule when it comes to races or race vacations. I think this partly explains why I’ve never taken much of a lounge-y vacation. That and the fact that I was single for the better part of my 20s and had a weird thing about vacationing solo. Basically, I’ve never hopped on a plane with a suitcase full of swimsuits, sandals, and tank tops, unless I was also packing swim-bike-run gear too or visiting family. For the most part, I’m totally fine with it; there will come a day when I leave the gear at home (and probably miss it). Packing my s/b/r gear on most vacations has become a web of more and more race vacations, strictly applying my grandfather’s rule above.

Appropriately named Discovery Park in Seattle

Before I packed up my bike in Coeur d’Alene and turned down my spot to Kona, I knew precisely what I’d be racing over the next few months. It goes something like this:

Seafair 8k – this sucker is going to hurt. I realize it will take less time than half of my Ironman swim, but I will push the pace from the first stride and hope there is some speed buried under the long course training I’ve focused on all year. Besides, it's a local race and a chance to see where I stack up with Seattle's speedsters.

Crew Ultraman Canada - I like to refer to my friend John Bergen as my Ironman big brother. He's given me great advice over the years and has been someone I've looked up to as a mentor. His wise words have helped me through many races and seasons and inspired me to be a stronger athlete. When he asked if I'd be interested in being on his crew for Ultraman Canada, I just had to say YES! He won the race in 2011 and I'm excited to be there to support him the first weekend in August. Most of my help will come on the final day, as I expect to pace him for 20+ miles of his double marathon. The race is up on part of the Challenge Penticton (former Ironman Canada) course and I'm also excited for a weekend spent with friends and other athletes giving back to the triathlon community. Besides the Okanagan region in British Columbia is beautiful and there will be some opportunities to check out the course on my own (and decide if its something I'd some day like to do).

Mora 1/2 Marathon - Where it all began - the tiny town of Mora, MN! The birthplace of my running obsession and the birthplace of…me. This run course goes by the hospital where I was born, my dad’s dental office, my church, my elementary school, the pool where I took swimming lessons, the hockey rinks where I learned to skate, my best friend’s house, my parents’ house, the tennis courts where I played countless matches, the Nordic Center and trails where I had XC ski meets, my high school, Main Street, and Mora Park. This was also a good excuse to visit home.

 

Hood to Coast - the weekend of the year! This race needs no introduction. I've been on the same team since 2009 and it's always challenging and fun. It brings me back to my runner roots and gives me a good ab workout from all the laughs. I'm on a co-ed team with some fast girls and REALLY fast guys (like 2:20 to 2:30s marathon guys). Our team name is Puke & Rally! As you can tell, we don't take ourselves too seriously. At the same time, I always feel this deep sense of team pride and want to run my absolute best.

From left: race tradition heel clicks after leg 3, our 2011 team, Sunday shake out run/hobble on the beach

 

Black Diamond 1/2 Ironman - a local half Iron that I haven't raced since 2008. It's nice a low-key, yet a chance for me to try and put together a strong race. It will be a good chance to see where my swim and bike fitness is in the middle of the second half of my season. It's also nice that I can sleep in my own bed, pick up my packet that morning (the race starts at 9am), and hopefully convince a few friends to join me.

Austin 70.3 - If all goes well for training, this will be my second half of the season "A" race (sorry Puke & Rally). I've never been to Austin and I've heard some really great things about the city. Plus, the race looks competitive and should be a good time to gauge any improvement at the 70.3 distance.

As you can see, no tropical paradise and no big city fancy marathon. Perhaps I’m foolish for traveling to Mora, MN versus the Kona coast. But I’m excited about this schedule that has some new and old locations. I’m spicing it up a little, so that I can start planning the next one.

Keeping On,
Cathleen

PS - in other news, it's been really funny and also a little frustrating to have a lot of people question what I'm doing the rest of the season. Some direct quotes have included, "so, are you still working out?" and "what are you going to do with your time since you're not racing Kona?" There IS life after Ironman and just because I didn't take my Kona slot does not mean I'm giving up on triathlon or hanging it up for the season. I understand most people are just curious and caring more than anything else. So, I just wanted to get that off my chest. I think my reasons for not racing Kona are really good ones that will improve me both as an athlete and as a person.

IM CdA 2013 Race Report

Coeur d’Alene has been a lot of firsts for me:

2008: first Ironman

2009: first time I made an Ironman podium

2010: first time I won my Age Group and first time I qualified for Kona

2011: first time I qualified for a pro license

2013 (spoiler alert): first time I finished as the top amateur in ANY race

Pre-race tradition: zip from Coach K

I signed up for Ironman Coeur d’Alene after a somewhat disappointing Ironman Wisconsin last fall. It wasn’t for any specific placing; I wanted some redemption at the distance and also wanted to take a crack at earning my way back to the big island. I got my Kona slot, but through the course of training and having the race that I did, I decided not to take it. Still, I gained so much more throughout this “Ironman journey” than I thought I would. I feel like the past six months I’ve regained confidence, fitness, and health that were somewhat lacking at the end of 2012. I feel like a real runner again and I’m fueling better for optimal training. The hard workouts, sacrifices, and challenges overcome taught me lessons in priorities and made me fall in love with this sport all over again, even if it means taking a little break from the full Ironman distance for a while.

I drove over to CdA on Thursday night after work and stayed with my friend Kara, her sister Helen, and her dad Cecil. Friday was a rest day that was spent sleeping in, picking up my race number and transition bags, and also attending the super cheesy (but I like it) athlete banquet (besides, free food with other athletes and friends - it's a no brainer, in my opinion). Saturday morning was spent as a quick swim, bike, and run to test the waters, check out gears, and shake out the legs. Sydnie, Gerry, and Graeme traveled over from Seattle to join the fun and help me with any Sherpa duties. Overall, it was pretty much the same routine I’ve had the past 4 times I’ve done CdA. I like to keep things consistent, even getting as anal retentive as trying to wear the same kit the day before for my swim, bike, run. It gets a little nuts (like wearing the same t-shirt on the travel day), but it puts my mind at ease and makes it feel like something I can control. Saturday afternoon I checked in my gear, did a walk through of transition, and ate an early dinner in downtown CdA with my friends before going to bed.

I tossed and turned Saturday night and woke up Sunday morning not feeling super awesome, but ready to get this $h*t done. That was kind of my motto for the past month. I wasn’t really going crazy about how I’d place, but I wanted to beat the crap out of the distance and leave everything I could out on the course. I choked down my breakfast, sprayed down the SPF, and Sydnie dropped me off near the start. I dropped off my special needs bags, got body marked, and then finished setting up my bike – air in the tires (thank you to the girl from SF who let me borrow her pump), chocolate PowerBars on the top tube, Garmin turned on to Multisport mode. I then made my way to the honey buckets before meeting up with my coach and team. I wasn't feeling that feeling that great and wanted one more stop at the bathroom. Kara told me about the flush toilets at the back of the park with no line. I headed over there and puked up half my breakfast. "Puke & Rally" is the name of my Hood to Coast team, so I figured that's what I had to do.  

 

Hugs from my friends, final words of advice from my coach, and a kiss from my boyfriend (after rinsing out my mouth), and I was headed to the swim start. I walked down with Kara and we got in a good warm-up. We even had enough space and time to practice a beach start. I saw my friend Derek and chatted with him a bit, noting the nice conditions, as we looked at the American flag draped along the pole. No wind and good temps would make for a quick day! After the National Anthem, the athletes were directed to line up for the swim.

I was skeptical of the new Ironman swim start, but actually very, very impressed with how smoothly things went. The athletes I lined up with seemed to be in the correct start position, as the folks I chatted with were hoping to swim within the same range as me. After the starting gun, there was a steady stream and I would guess it took me about 2 minutes to cross the timing mat and get into the water. I ran a few steps and took a (I’m sure less than graceful) dive and immediately there was open water. It wasn't the cluster I remember from past IM CdA swim starts and the warmer lake temperature this year was equally nice. My swim loops were pretty even in terms of time and I had a good, not great, swim coming out of the water in 1:07:07…chipping away from the old days of being a brand new triathlete. I made a few errors in the water allowing myself to get blocked in and not making a move to swim around people, but overall it was a good swim. But still, lots of work to do in the pool! T1 was quick and I was on my bike 3 minutes and 22 seconds later.

 

Super graceful on the mount

It was a GORGEOUS day to be on the bike. Coeur d’Alene is a beautiful town and challenging bike courses and awesome landscapes keep me coming back! The plan was the ride steady and strong all day and to keep within a range of power zones. I was also conscious, like always, of getting the proper number of calories, hydration, and salt per hour in order to get off and run strong. I set my Garmin to go off every 15 minutes as a reminder to eat and try to get in around 300 calories/hour. Since I’m not a strong swimmer, I have to rely on my “swim and catch up” race plan and with Ironman it can be 112 miles of trying to make as many passes as I can. If I’m able to do that effectively, it makes for a frigging awesome bike ride. Lap 1 was strong and fast and I passed a lot of people, but it was also really crowded. It didn’t feel like I was making tons of progress in moving up, because there were still so many riders out there. After making my way through town on the second loop and heading out for the last 36 mile out and back, I got a sense of where I was and that I was moving up to the front of the field. And man, I was HAVING FUN! I never felt tapped out or tired, just strong and cautious the entire ride. Looking back, there was one climb towards the end that I wish I would have focused on more and ridden harder, but other than that it was a pretty great ride. I finished the bike in 5:28:44, which I believe was the second fastest amateur bike split of the day.

This ride gets a thumbs up!

At T2 I hopped off my bike, grabbed my bag from a volunteer and did a quick shoe change in the women's change tent as the ladies handed me my visor and strapped my race belt on me. In 1:55 I was out of transition and on the run course. Oh, Ironman run, you humble us all. Even on our strongest days, you take our legs, chew them up, and spit them out to run 13 more miles. I've thought a lot about this year's run, as it was challenging, frustrating, defeating, and ultimately rewarding. But a lot of my feelings are because of what happened with the competition.

As I started the run, there was one girl (#131) who left T2 just a few seconds in front of me. Unlike 2011 when I heard the announcers say I was in second place, this year I was unaware exactly where I was off the bike. After hearing some cheers from the crowd, I quickly learned I was in third. Third off the bike was a good spot. I trusted myself on the run and knew that if I ran MY race, I could put down a very competitive time. I also knew there were some fast girls coming up behind me, like Sarah Graves (from Montana who has done well on the 70.3 circuit and is also a marathon Olympic trials veteran. In a stand alone marathon, she would absolutely crush me.) By mile 6, I passed one girl who looked strong enough, but not super quick (she would end up finishing 4th in my AG and also would end up getting my Kona slot) and I could see #131 was about 45 seconds ahead at the turnaround (mile 6.5).

Lap 1 feeling good- running my pace, feeling strong

By mile 10, I could see #131 and knew it was my chance to take the lead. What crossed my mind was: do I run MY race or do I go for it and take the lead? I freaking went for it. There are a lot of unknowns in life and in my Ironman demented brain, I decided that I'd rather have that experience of running out in front and losing it than never going for it. I thought of my dad watching the results online and how it would make him light up, if I could take the lead. And I thought of my mom's strength and what she has passed on to me. At that point, we were running around 7:40 miles and I really should have been running 7:50s or 7:55s. I just kept thinking that I'd easily drop #131, but I could see her out of the corner of my eye at some of the turns. I kept telling myself, just stay in front through town, you have a lot of fans out there and it will be a big boost to you if she hears your friends cheering for you. I heard them and got a good boost, but unfortunately it wasn't enough to last me through the finish. By mile 16, she passed me back. I put in a couple surges to get ahead, but it wasn't enough. She dropped me easily as I continued my Ironman slog.

Lap 2 pain train - just.hang.on - some excellent run form here...yeah right!

Miles 18 and 19 were especially tough and there were a lot of swear words going back and forth in my brain. I tried not to beat myself up for making a move at mile 10; it was the right thing to do. I think if I had more energy at that point, there would have been tears. My nutrition was right on, but my legs were shot from going out hard. Finally, I hit the turnaround and was headed back to town. The last 6 miles weren't pretty, but I can assure you I was working freaking hard for those 8:30 pace (er...perhaps slower) miles. I held on long enough to not let any other girls pass me. Right before I took my final left turn onto Sherman, I saw Laurie, Sydnie, and Kainoa who all looked proud and happy. I made my turn and headed for the finish line. I tried to soak it in a little, as I was proud of my fight and pleased with my race. As I reached the finish line I put my hands over my heart in memory of the victims from Boston as Mike Reilly called me an Ironman. I finished my run in 3:35:40, which was a bit slower than I had hoped, but still good enough for the 4th fastest amateur run. My total finish time was 10:16:48, which was 46 seconds off my PR from 2011.



Smiling in this photo

Minutes later, after getting my finish line hug and getting help from the generous volunteers (including my friend Courtney who was catching), Sydnie, Gerry, Graeme, Adam, and Jenn were near the finish line to congratulate me. It was great having them there. Eventually I made my way to the athlete recovery area to sit down in a lawn chair while I had some chicken soup and called my dad to give him a short play-by-play. I then ate some pizza and chatted with a few other athletes (like Anabel) before meeting up with my friends.

But wait there's more!

My friends and I were hanging out in the grass waiting to pick up my bike when Sydnie got a text message from Kainoa saying that the results changed and the girl (#131) who finished a few minutes ahead of me was no longer listed. I had moved up from 2nd to 1st. The only possible explanation was a disqualification, but it was all a bit mysterious why she'd run so hard if something had happened on the bike. Or maybe something happened and she didn't know? It was all very confusing and I wasn't even sure of my place until the next day when I saw the official results at the Kona roll down table. I asked what happened and was told #131 was DQ'd, but the person at the table also didn't know why. It wasn't until I emailed Race Information (because I don't ever want to make that same mistake) that I got my answer. They informed me: "that the infractions were multiple drafting violations, earning a red card, but the DQ was for not going to the penalty tent."

Initially I felt really sorry for #131 thinking she had made a mistake unknowingly that cost her the race. But after getting clarification, I just felt frustrated for her lack of sportsmanship that directly affected my race. I realize I have the world's tiniest violin playing for me as I bitch about my Ironman run that resulted in a first place finish. But it DID change my race execution. Had I known that the girl in front of me would eventually get disqualified, I wouldn't have pushed the pace mid-race. I would have put up the blinders and run according to my race plan. I still don't regret making the move that I did, I'm just disappointed that my feelings of defeat as I finished in second place were because of someone's disrespect for the rules and good sportsmanship.

There were good lessons that I learned from day 1 of Ironman training through race day, and there will be fond memories from my first amateur win. After turning down my Kona spot a couple weeks ago, I've had some time to reflect and I still believe it was the right decision. I need some time before I get fired up for my next Ironman and there are things I need to work on to get faster. Thank you to everyone who supported me on race day - in person and from afar. I've been lucky to be matched with some great sponsors: Oiselle, Nuun Hydration, BlueSeventy, and Seattle Performance Medicine who keep me outfitted, hydrated, and healthy. I have a wonderful coach and team who challenge me with workouts and inspire me to keep racing. And I've been blessed with family and friends who support me no matter what, put up with my training, eating, and sleeping schedules, and teach me to never, ever give up. I love you all.

Until the next one,
Cathleen

So happy in this picture! 1st AG and 1st Amateur Female! Dream come true!
2nd place is my friend Julie. She and I have been training together since Lake Stevens 70.3 in 2006

Other random thoughts:

A note to future IM participants: never try to be first in line at packet pick-up. Kara and I went at noon on Friday with no lines. And they told us the people who showed up at 10am (when it opened) had an hour wait.

Puking up half your breakfast isn’t always a bad sign. I felt 10x better after a final stop at the bathroom.

Mad props to the bike course marshals for keeping the riders honest. Although it’s hard to get in a rhythm at mile 80 when you’re paranoid about drafting penalties, it makes for a fair race. And they even gave me a thumbs-up when I made a strong, strategic 4-person pass uphill. It was nice not to see any packs or trains out there on the bike course.

At mile 3 of the run there was a sign that said: “think about the reasons you run.” The first time I passed it, I was all emotional. The second time I passed it (mile 15), I paid zero attention. I couldn’t spare any extra emotion. All my feelings were going into the pain throughout my body.  

Two years ago I had a 57 second T2, but they moved transition around this year and I had to run farther around the basketball hoops. This year I made my way onto the run course in 1:55 (I needed that minute to PR!).

I talked to my mom after the race and told her about the 1st/2nd place confusion. A week later once things got straightened out, she asked me: "so were you like REALLY the first place female for amateurs?" Yes, mom, really I was.

I passed my friend Geoff and his friend around mile 70 on the bike. He later said that he told his friend: "See that girl up there in the orange? That's my friend Cathleen. She's gonna win it, she's killin it today." Thanks for the vote of confidence, Geoff. It was great training with you this year.

One of the ladies who swims Masters in my lane asked me about my race and if I got a Kona spot. I told her I got one, but I didn't take it. Her response was: "so you are normal!" I'm still not quite sure what she meant, but I took it as a compliment.

In 2005 I paced my friend Lori during a marathon and we bought yellow ribbons in support of her friend Andrea who was battling pancreatic cancer. (We also accomplished a lifetime goal of running a race in a sports bra.) On June 10, 2013, Andrea lost her long, courageous fight with cancer. This year on race day, I wore that yellow ribbon from 2005 for Lori and Andrea. I'm quite certain it brought me strength.

I was so happy I packed extra tubes of nuun! Monday morning, I drank 3 water bottles of Lemonade and Cherry Limeade with double tabs, as it was the only thing that sounded good for food or drink.

It's super tempting to sign up for CdA 2014, but I'm going to wait a few months to see how the rest of my summer training goes.

Sorry Kona...though I do still Love You

Editorial comment: yeah, yeah...I realize having to make a decision as to whether or not to race the Ironman World Championships is a good problem to have.

Sunday was a superb day. I executed a good race and the placement fell in my favor. I finished as the top amateur in an Ironman, which has been a goal ever since Coeur d’Alene 2011 when I finished as the second amateur in an Ironman. I’ll write up a race report once I’m able to organize my thoughts about my 10 hour and 16 minute day. But first I wanted to address something that a lot of people have had questions about since I turned down my Kona spot on Monday.

Fond memories from past races in Hawaii: Body marking, the epic swim start, and pre-race relaxing

First of all, Ironman is HARD. It’s hard mentally, physically, emotionally. If there is anyone who tells you otherwise, they are LYING. There is nothing about the training, racing, or planning that is really that easy. When I woke up on Sunday, I was excited about the race, but I also knew it would be a long day with an even longer recovery. I raced Coeur d’Alene followed by Kona in 2010 and 2011 and it made for very long seasons with August and September being especially challenging. It can be so challenging that if I pushed it too much, I’d worry about burning out. There are also weeks during Ironman training when I'm sure I'm not the most pleasant person to be around; I feel like I turn into a monster. I talked through some of my options with my coach prior to and after the race and she told me that the decision was entirely up to me, but also that I could always go to Kona and not try to make it an “A” race. Still, I don’t think my heart would have been in it if I was basically just going for fun.

Secondly, if I committed to racing another Ironman this year I wouldn’t have the time or flexibility to spice up some of my training and focus on some of my weaknesses. I want to be able to swim more times per week and also work on my bike and run speed. I feel like my endurance is there, which is why I still think Ironman is a great distance for me. But sometimes, and I realize this isn’t necessarily my case nor the case for everyone, but sometimes racing long and racing a lot can make your training and fitness stagnant. I needed to look at the bigger picture and decide what a Kona build and a Kona recovery would do for my fitness and athletic goals.

And third, I had to look at the really big picture, like the fact that I want to be able to visit my dad this summer and not feel like I also need to fit in long brick workouts and rides when I’m in Minnesota. I want to crew for my teammate at Ultraman and not stress out about fitting in my own workouts when I want to pace him to do well on the run. I want to do some later season local races that I haven’t been able to do in years and also try some new races. I’ve been racing 2 IMs per year since 2009 and basically I just wanted to give myself a freaking break. It’ll give me some time to decide that if pulling the Pro Card trigger in 2014 could be in the cards.

Ironman Hawaii is an amazing experience and I’m fortunate that I’ve been able to race it - twice. I recognize that they don’t just give away Kona slots and I’ve been on the losing end of badly wanting one and not getting one more than once. I’m sad that I will miss the magical vibe that takes place on the Kona coast and meeting up with some triathlon friends. Going back to Kona this year would be fun and it’d be great to hang out on the big island in October, but I’d be going just to go and it wouldn’t make special. I don’t want the allure of Hawaii to wear off with just a mediocre race or one that I can’t get excited about from the beginning of training until race day. I do hope to go back some year, but it will have to be a year when it aligns correctly with my goals. And if I’m lucky, it will also fit correctly in my life.

My season is far from over and there will still be hard workouts and tough races and big goals. But the long rides won’t be quite as long and the race recovery won’t take as many weeks. And I think in setting up these new race plans, I will have more fun and reach new fitness goals. Once I feel recovered from Sunday (give me some time), I’m excited to start training. Thanks to everyone who helped me make this decision (especially Sydnie, Kainoa, Mom, Dad, and Gerry). I think I'll be a lot more fun to be around without Kona prep looming later this summer. Mahalo.     

the day I stop getting nervous for races

I was editing something on my blog the other day and I noticed in my bio I wrote, “The day I stop getting nervous for races is the day I stop racing.” It struck me a little, as I noticed this year’s build for Ironman Coeur d’Alene felt a little different than years past. I don’t have my massive spreadsheets of predicted times and I haven’t scoped out my competition. I haven’t done any forecasting on how many Kona spots will be awarded to the W30-34 age group and I didn’t even look up my bib number until today (#425 – seems like a good one, I’d say). Had the fire in my belly burned out? Where was the fierce competitor that pictured herself on top of the podium? Is the absence of a “Kona or bust” mentality working against me? Is it just that after nine Ironmans #10 is going to seem like no big deal? Or worst of all, have I fallen out of love with Ironman and am I not going to get nervous for my race this week? Maybe my neurosis just died down a little…

Training has gone well this season and while there haven’t been any workouts ending in panic or tears for fear of a bad race, there have been many other emotions that have been poured into this year’s training. There have been fun-filled morning swims, from holiday themes to swim tests to beautiful open water swimming. I’ve gone on many bike rides solo, in groups, with old friends, new friends, and the boyfriend. And there have been many runs filled with laughter, but also tears – like the times I think about my dad’s cancer or when I thought about the bombings in Boston or just some solo long runs filled with self-reflection on what makes me happy, sad, or excited!

Some of that self-reflection included “what the hell am I doing with this sport?” And I believe the answer is still a work in progress. When I first got into triathlon it was for something fun and exciting to do, something to challenge myself and push my limits. I later progressed into chasing podium finishes and World Championship qualifications and I’ve even flirted with the idea of going pro in this sport. But those goals would all be for naught if I wasn’t excited to toe the line race morning. And I can assure you, that is not the case; I am still looking forward to race day! Wednesday morning I was having a quick chat with my coach after swimming and we were talking about CDA and how a lot of people in Seattle have shied away from it this year, because of some of the later season races that are now offered (Tahoe and Whistler added in 2013). She mentioned that you really need to have your act together to be ready for CDA and I brushed it off like, “oh yeah, you do…it’s been a good race for me.” And then Kainoa’s eyes lit up as she said, “oh, it’ll be good to you this year too,” which made my eyes light up, which was basically like tinder exposed in the Northern Idaho sunlight waiting to fire up in my belly.

And ever since then I’ve had race butterflies, so I know I will be ALL IN on race day. It’s a race and lifestyle that still makes my heart pitter-patter, even if perhaps after CDA I might need a break from full Ironman for a while. I thought a lot about this year’s race emotions this past weekend and noticed that I’m going into Sunday with feelings that are a bit different than what they were 2 years ago. I don’t know if it’s my maturity as a person, experience as an athlete, or the fact that other life things seem a lot bigger this year. From friends having babies, to thoughts on my dad, to my own relationships, or watching friends go through injuries, I’m reminded of what Kara Goucher says: “it’s just running.” (Well, swimming, biking, and running, but you get the idea. And yes, I’ll relate to Kara Goucher whenever I can…perhaps delusional self-confidence also comes with age.)

While I can’t say what’s next after this race, I can assure you (and more importantly myself) that it was a good idea to go through this journey and there are no plans to stop racing for a long, long time. Best of luck to all competitors who toe the line on in Coeur d’Alene on Sunday! Have a safe and special day. And thank you to everyone who helped me get to the start line healthy and happy. Ironman is a good, long race and I’m sure I will feel your presence as I’m fighting through the pain on Sunday!

With Heart,

Cathleen