Juiced

OK, my MP3 player is now completely stocked with awesomeness. The Strokes, Modest Mouse, Switchfoot, The Caesars, The Killers, Moby, a little Queen, a little Aerosmith - too much to list, but I'm all excited now. Most of these groups were already on there, I just did some updating with newer albums, etc.

By far my favorite song is still Float On, by Modest Mouse. There's just something about it - I think it's the free vibe of it. Kind of lightens the feeling of things, and around mile 18 or so, that's exactly what it takes to come the rest of the way.

In fact, I'm finding that for the long haul, there comes a point at which you just have to lesson the load a bit if you're going to have enough in the tank to cross the finish line.

...Ya know?

Modest Mouse - Float On

"I backed my car into a cop car the other day
Well he just drove off sometimes life's ok
I ran my mouth off a bit too much oh what can I say
Well you just laughed it off it was all ok

And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on anyway well

Well, a fake Jamaican took every last dime with a scam
It was worth it just to learn from sleight-of-hand
Bad news comes don't you worry even when it lands
Good news will work its way to all them plans
We both got fired on the exactly the same day
Well we'll float on good news is on the way

And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on all right
Already we'll all float on
Now don't worry we'll all float on
All right already we'll all float on
All right don't worry we'll all float on

And we'll all float on all right
Already we'll all float on
All right don't worry even if things end up a bit too heavy
We'll all float on all right
Already we'll all float on
All right already we'll all float on
Ok don't worry we'll all float on
Even if things get heavy we'll all float on
All right already we'll all float on
Don't you worry we'll all float on
All float on"

Down Time

Spent today at the zoo. No running, no biking, no swimming, and no freaking out about Steelhead. It was a good day.

Off and on I caught myself thinking about life after this race. The off season will be right around the corner, the weather will start to lose steam - heh - literally, and things will warm up in other ways with the holidays approaching. Everything will slow down, and I think that I'm just about ready for that. Funny how much all of this takes out of you - it's been quite a year.

Aside from this coming weekend, there's one more long sprint tri in early September for me, and then the LaSalle Bank Marathon in early October. After that there are a few 10Ks here and there, but that's really it. This is actually just about right, as I can feel a downshift in momentum coming up soon. After Chicago it will definitely be time for the next stage.

I've decided that I'm going to spend the winter polishing up my form all around. In fact, there's a masters swim team that's forming here and I'm thinking about joining for the winter. It'll be nice to have a coach on deck, and basically that's kind of the only reason I'd join - I really can't see myself as a competitive swimmer anytime soon. Ha, but this time last year I never would have guessed that I'd be ready to race in a half-Ironman, either. So, who knows - anything can happen.

Also, I'm definitely going to add Yoga back into my routine - man, this winter is so going to be about being quiet. Writing, running when there aren't 10 feet of snow on the ground (as I just hate the dreadmil), sitting in front of fires, reading, writing some more, and balancing out the fever pitch that has been the spring and summer training.

Today I also thought about going back to a vegetarian diet for the winter. I did that for several years -all the way through college and grad school and really felt great. But it just so happened that I was the one out of 1000 women who had morning sickness all nine months, and the first three months the absolute only thing that would stay down was a Burger King Whopper. Um, yeah, OK...probably too much information, hmmm? Anyway, that's the only thing that interrupted my veg lifestyle. Once the season starts up again I doubt that I'll maintain the vegetarianism, but for the winter it would be a nice detox.

OK, so it seems that as of today, my off-season goals are to slow down, to reflect and to refine. And I really like the sound of that.



I've learned so much, and I'm going to be happy with this year.

In fact, now that I think about it, I already am.

One Week From Today...

1.) I will pick up my packet for my first Half-Ironman race.

2.) I will sit outside on the curb of my hotel as I look up at the night sky. And I will spend my last few hours with who I used to be.

3.) I will remember and repeat every single scrap of support and encouragement that I have received.

4.) I will close my eyes because it will be the only way for me to see the enormity of what I am about to do.

5.) And I will imagine victory.

Unraveling It

Things like this, these unexpected reactions and behaviors of mine, provoke me into some self-analysis. I suppose that's a good thing because then at least I have the chance to find my leaks and repair them before I go down because of them. I just wish that it wasn't always such an exhausting process, though I suppose that it just makes for a more satisfying experience in the end, right?

Anyway, let's do this.

I fell asleep at 8:00 last night. Maybe I was just tired – that usually leaves the door unlatched for freak-outs to sneak in and mess up the place. I guess that it comes with the territory, though. I mean, I can’t expect this race to ride onto the field in pink ruffles or anything, now can I? And, well, it definitely didn’t do that. I’m glad that the e-mail came when it did, however, or that residual fear that I was harboring would have never been exposed. Well, at least not until it was too late - yeah, see, everything happens for a reason.

All right, anyway, I've been thinking about how these ups and downs are a lot like the waves out there. One minute everything is fine, but come a swell from nowhere and the only thing I can do is fight to get my head to the surface and try to start all over again. After a few waves like this, the lesson starts to reveal itself if I’m paying any kind of attention, and I learn to adapt. I mean, it's either that or a not so appealing alternative.

Heh, you know what, maybe Body and Mind really do have the same obstacles. Waves are waves, and it only makes sense that that the physical fix could be adapted for the mental fix. Ahh, hold on a minute...let’s go down this road.

See, what saved me out there on my way to Wisconsin last Tuesday was accepting the fact that there would be more waves, bigger waves, and if I was ever going to make it back to the beach in one piece I’d better learn how to anticipate them, as I couldn’t stop them from coming. Soon enough, I learned that it wasn’t really the wave itself that I had trouble with - it was the sudden situation of it, and there was already just too much trying to fit into that instant that the wave crashed down. I had no plan, and survival instincts always kick in if there’s no plan ahead of time. Now, those are great and all in a pinch, but they just burn up too much gas when you're in it for the long haul. Man, no wonder I fell asleep at 8:00 last night. I had no plan in place for the mental wave of that e-mail.

OK, so what did I say - what works for Body, then, should work for Mind, right? Well, here we go, let’s test it out: I resolve that there will likely be a few more of these freak-out episodes before all is said and done. The first trick is figuring out the pattern. In the water, the waves seem to come in a rhythm, and all I have to do is line up my breathing and stroke with that rhythm and I'm fine – OK, so breathing and stroke correlate mentally to thought and action, and that means that I have to line up what I think and do with these mental freak-out waves in order to get through them without, in fact, freaking out!

The mental freak-out waves come in a rhythm, too. The first one right after I sign up for a big race, the second as I approach the peak of training for the race, and the biggest and final one right before the race. During these times, I’ll think – “I know I’m going to want to freak out pretty soon, but I’ve been here before and I’ve lived. When it comes, I'll do X, Y, and Z and it will all pass.” In turn, I’ll do what I've been doing, X: a recap of all of the training that I’ve done so far by flipping through my training logs, Y: I'll read/watch inspirational things, and Z: I'll talk to supportive and encouraging people.

Well, looking at it that way, I guess that the leak in my goggles was not knowing to anticipate the freak-outs. Now that I'll be doing that, I'll be able to tap into my plan for them in advance, and should therefore be able to avoid going the survival instinct flailing and gasping default route.

Ta-Dahhh!

All right, now it's untangled. All that's left is to jump off that pier (yeah...with both feet, coach).

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I don’t know what happened. I had it all figured out and I was fine. Heart was off floating somewhere, remember? I just said that. I just #@*&$ said that! I opened up my inbox just now and Heart sure enough came rushing back at warp speed only to pound in my chest and crowd my lungs. Crap! My fingers are freezing cold right now! I guess that Body is just trying to figure out what to do with this defense mechanism chemical spill – the sirens are too loud so I can’t hear any details. Mind is just gone, or passed out or something, I don’t even know.

$&@%$!!

"DEAR ATHLETE:

The Whirlpool Steelhead 1/2 Ironman Triathlon is only 9 days away...hope that your training is going well. Remember that the Steelhead Triathlon is also a fun filled weekend for families with the Fifth – Third Bank Kids Triathlon on Saturday afternoon as well as the great post race beach party at Jean Klock Park.

CUT OFF TIMES FOR EVENT

We will enforce cut off times for each of the legs of the triathlon. The swim cut off time is 1 hour 15 minutes from the start of the last swim wave. The bike cut off time is 5 hours and 30 minutes from the start of the last swim wave and the run cut off time is 8 hours from the start of the last swim wave.

If you do not complete each leg of the course within the designated cut off times, you will be disqualified from the race and a sag vehicle will pick you up on the course."

They will come and take you off of the course it says!! Did you read that?? It actually says that they will come and get you off of the course! Can you imagine that stupid vehicle (what can it even be, a big truck hauling you off with your bike?? OMG! Past everyone who is still riding!! They’d all look at you with that “tough break, dude” face…GAH! OK, I need to stop…)

Anyway, here it is. Shit. It’s here all right. What have I been thinking it was all of this time? I covered the ground, I was out there right? Right, VM and Shelley – I WAS out there!? So what is this burning up the back of my neck all about then? It’s not even hot here anymore and I can’t get a decent breath. Oh, this is just FABULOUS. Freezing fingers and a Mind on fire. Of course it is – of course it is.

Well, I’m scared. I hate that I’m scared but I’m scared! Like I’m going to cry scared. OK, hell, like I AM crying scared. This is so stupid and totally goes against everything that I’ve been doing all along. Man, I have to get a grip here. Those waves were bigger than this, right? I can’t believe the stupid sun is going to hitch a ride in a pick-up truck to try to come after me out there! Crap!! You must be kidding me. This must be how it wants me to feel, right? Right!??

OK, shut up – you’re ridiculous. I can’t even take it anymore. It’s a race. That’s it. A race. And you’ve already done 2/3 of it…twice! No one is going to die because of anything you do or don’t do out there. I seem to remember some much bigger dragons breathing in your face not so long ago – so calm down!!

No, but this is – crap, they’re going to come IN A TRUCK, and take you off of the course!!!!!!!!! That’s just…

What? Humiliating? A judgment? A “you’re not good enough” button that you can wear all day long, and polish it up nice and shiny-like with the “and you even paid money for all of this devastation, too!” cloth?

Uh, yeah, kind of like that.

Man, you don’t even trust yourself sometimes. One of these days you will learn that I don’t show up for them. I show up for you. You have nothing to prove to any of them. This is your first full season! Who else do you know that has the guts to sign up for two marathons and a Half-Ironman their first full season, and damn well show up and swing at all of it? THAT’S why I’m here. That’s why I’ve always been here, and if you think that I’m going to leave you out there for some truck to pick up, you need some more sleep.

I want this, and I wanted it before you pushed “enter” on that sign up screen. It’s just big enough to be scary, and so it must be just right…remember hearing that echoing around in there? Who do you think let that loose? So, damn it – relax. I know what I’m doing. I’ve got this, and I’ll get you through it, just like always.

So, now the whole thing is about trusting myself, huh? Man, it just keeps getting better and better. $&%@! I wish that I had a better seatbelt for this ride.

Deep breath then…

Nine Days

Sometimes I swear that I go to sleep at night as one person and wake up the next day as someone else, only to slowly get back to that night-before person as the day goes by. Now, what the crap is that?

See, last night I went to sleep feeling all kinds of ready and confident about Steelhead. But Mind woke me up this morning around 4:00 with a bunch of clanging and crashing into things.

Steelhead is nine days away. Nine days, do you understand?

Oh, Mind, shut up. I’m tired, man! Go to sleep!

Body, YOU of all people should be awake and doing something about this. Come on, get up! Get up!!

Mind, I swear to God if you flip that switch I will pound you.

Guys, shut up! Everyone go back to sleep!

But it was too late. I was awake and tired at the same time. I was stuck in between both worlds. I couldn’t get up to go and accomplish something toward Steelhead, as Body was already promised an afternoon workout instead of a morning session. BUT, I couldn’t go back to sleep either with Mind jabbering on like Rainman. So, I just lied in bed and tried to imagine race morning.

I realized that I was probably going to be calm because in the face of insanity, I somehow flip on auto pilot. This is what happened with the waves halfway to Wisconsin during SEBA #3 the other day. Big-freakin’ swells and no sign of my training partner, or the beach for that matter, but I somehow managed to keep it together. Maybe it’s a form of shock, I don’t know. It just works and I get through –survival mode maybe. Anyway, I have a feeling that come the morning of Steelhead, that ghostly glue, or whatever it is, will hold me together. You know how you just know things? I guess that it's kind of like that.

Funny how this time I can see it coming - wish that I would have been paying better attention before the marathon, I wouldn’t have been half as stressed. I guess that at a certain point you just learn to trust yourself, you learn to trust that something will get you through no matter what.

So, I suppose it all breaks down like this: Body has resigned to not freak out anymore. It needed to sweat the sweat and to go the distance, and now that those things are done, it’s content. Heh, I bet that’s probably why Mind is all a-babble - there’s no one to freak-out with this time. Actually though, maybe Mind is just always going to be all a-babble no matter what the situation. Funny, but that makes more sense than I’d like it to, and I’m still OK with it.

Oh, yeah, and Heart. Well, oddly enough Heart is kind of AWOL. I don’t know what’s going on there – off to the mountain tops or something to reflect and meditate for these last few days. I mean, it's not like I don't care, I just feel like I'm kind of in a quiet zone with things. I'm not really excited or on edge or anything, it just feels like a float until race day. Maybe that’s what’s going on. Heart is off floating. Heh - nice of it to let me know or something, man. Though, Heart’s just weird like that sometimes. It goes a while without saying a lot about training, but then comes out of nowhere just when I’ve gotten to either the screw it then, I’ll do it myself point, or the screw it then, I can't do it myself point. What a ridiculous relationship this is.

But, I guess that I know it will be there when I need it, and maybe that's all I ever needed to learn about myself in the first place.

OK, I’m still ready.

SEBA #3 - The Bike

I was queasy coming out of the swim, but thankfully I'd brought some seltzer water - instant fix. That is definitely going to be part of my Steelhead transition pack.

VM seemed to have pretty much recovered from the swim scare I gave him (see post below...sorry, again, VM!), so we were off for the 58 miles.

The weather was cool and there was a decent breeze, quite the opposite weather from the last of our epic brick adventures. There was basically no humidity, and we cruised at an easy 17-18 mph pace for several miles. Between my new found gear and VM likely slowing way the crap down, we stayed pretty together for the entire ride.

But something was different about this ride aside from the humidity. It was easier! VM was right, each time you do the course it gets better. Aside from my Bento Box stabbing the inside of my thigh every time I'd get out of the saddle on a climb (yes, likely my punishment for not staying seated, but oh well), it was really turning out to be a great ride. What!? Seriously, that thing is sharp! I have cuts all up and down the inside of my leg. It's ridiculous.



Everything was going well until the clouds started rolling in. It literally looked like a giant steamroller coming across the sky. Just as the waves in Lake Michigan had undulated a few hours ago, the clouds were slowly coming after us immediately to our right.

"Holy cow! Look at that!!! We're going to get wet, you know that, right?"

"Oh yeah. Definitely." VM shook his head and hiked up the pace a bit.

Sure enough, it clipped us, but it wasn't nearly the downpour that either of us were expecting. Soon enough it passed and we just had some nasty headwinds to negotiate.

I suppose the best way to describe this ride is casual. VM and I chatted it up on some of the flats, slowing to 13-15 mph, but that's probably not going to be in the plans for race day. Though it was good to take things easy. On some of the other flats we averaged around 22 mph, and on one particular flat near the end of the haul, I looked down to see that I was going 28 mph! On a flat!!! VM, of course, was rocket-launched way ahead, and I'd learn later that he'd hit 35!

One thing in particular that I learned from this ride is that there is definitely going to be a strategy involved. It's funny how much biking is like running. VM mentioned how he planned to start out the race around an 18 mph average, and then slowly build up to a 22-23 mph average for the final third of the course. Now, that works out just about right, because the hills and other such nastiness are all within the first 25 miles. There are some little inclines toward the middle of the course, but most of it there is flat, and as VM pointed out, you can gain a bunch of ground right about there. He's ridden the course like what, eight times or something now, so I guess he'd know!

The only challenge I see is around miles 42-48 where things just get depressing for some reason. Right about then I kind of lost my edge and really wanted to be done. VM, being the machine that he is, just cruised through, spouting all sorts of happy triathlon machine fuzziness, as I blah-ed all over everything. He's going to annihilate that course, for sure. And me, well, I'll have to figure out some kind of strategy to get me through that depressing part, maybe some little reward or something, I don't know. If you come up with any ideas, let me know (and chocolate melts, dammit - dammit all. Don't think I didn't go there. AH! Wait!! Fruit snacks!!!!! OK, keep the ideas coming).

Anyway, soon we were through that life-sucking patch, and arrived at what is probably the coolest part of the course, the last five or so miles. It's flat and slick and fast, and where VM busted out that 35 mph pace. I couldn't believe that I was doing 28 because it just felt like nothing at all. Kind of the reward for going through Prozac alley back there a few miles.

And then it was the home stretch. I was really tired, probably for not having slept at all two nights prior to this brick, and the night before not sleeping much. Definitely won't try that one again before Steelhead.

The final ride time was 3:45, and I think that we ended up riding 58 or 59 miles. Come race day I should be able to finish the bike leg in the neighborhood of 3:30, and that's just fine with me. VM on the other hand, well, I don't doubt that he'll bust three hours.

There was no run in my forecast for the day, as I had to go and pick up the kiddies, but VM cranked out seven miles after all that! I just hope he and Shelley bring a card game or something while they're waiting for me at the finish line! Give me a few more years at this, I'll be faster eventually.

And thus concludes the Steelhead Epic Brick Adventure series. I feel good, I know this race is going to hurt, and I'm OK with that. I know that I'll finish, and I'm pretty sure that I can finish before the cut off.

I've learned some lessons, swallowed some pride, and taken a lot of chances on myself. And yeah, I'm ready.

SEBA #3 - The Swim

“Looks pretty wavy out there.” VM noted.

“Hey, you know what, bring the waves! I’m not afraid of them anymore.”

VM smiled a smile like he knew that I’d just invoked some kind of Voodoo lake spirit, and we proceeded to walk down to the swim start.

“Ah, hell.”

There was a sinking feeling in my stomach as the prospect of jumping off the Tiscornia Park pier found its way from "oh, crap, no!" to consideration in my head.

“Suppose that I have to do it sooner or later, huh?”

“Yep, and it might as well be now.”

“Ah, hell.”

VM reminded me ahead of time to make sure that my goggles didn’t dislodge going into the water, so I took care to make sure that I wouldn’t have to go on a wild goggle chase in choppy (and getting choppier) Lake Michigan.

“Hey! That was kind of fun!”

VM laughed at my silly glee, “Yeah! OK, Are you ready?”

"Let’s go!"

And we were off. The water was warm, goggles tight, there was a cool breeze and I had a feeling that this might turn out to be a pretty good swim. Now, just as I was feeling all proud of myself for not being afraid of the waves or whatever Lake Michigan had to throw at me, my overly cocky self found its way into some especially choppy water. Just as I stood up to see how far I'd swum from the pier I was picked up in a swell and tossed face first in to the water, a white cap wave crashing down on top of me.

“What the #@$%&!!”

I shook my head and the sense returned. I noticed that I was about 20 yards from the shore and there were white breakers everywhere. Oh, yeah, well that’ll do it... I was happy that I could stand up, and happier when I noticed that I was still relatively close to VM, he was about 50 yards ahead of me and a bit further from shore. I waved to let him know where I was, and he waved back - a minute later we started swimming again.

At this point I remember hoping that he was OK. The waves were starting to undulate quite a bit, and he’d been prone to being sea sick. He seemed OK so far, and I started to swim toward him.

Then things changed. About five minutes after I started to swim towards VM I noticed that something was very different. The water was different, it sounded differently. Since getting slapped down by the breaker wave, I’d humbled a bit and told myself that I’d never boast about my wave confidence within ear shot of the waves again. But it was too late for apologies. I was going to be taught a lesson that I wouldn’t soon forget.

I tried to stand up but there was no ground under my feet. I looked for the beach but it was blocked by the waves. I felt like I was in the middle of the ocean, and as I turned to try to gauge where I was, I noticed that I was way far out – perpendicular to the end of the pier at Tiscornia Park, and about halfway to Jean Klock Park. Not far from me a boat buzzed by, and I knew that I had somehow swum very far off course. How that happened in five minutes, I have no idea. I suppose that’s what happens when you piss off the waves.

There was no sign of VM anywhere. I had no choice but to just try to swim back in, so that’s what I did. The swells had become really big by now, and I was pushed under water a few times before I heard it:

“This is nothing compared to what I can do to you.”

And in that moment I felt like Odysseus, full of pride and lost at sea for years because of it. I knew that the only way out of this was to stop fighting against the waves, and to try my best to become part of them. And sure enough, not long thereafter my breathing fell into sync with the swells and the waves started to go through me. OK, I get it now.

There was still no sign of VM and I was getting really nervous that he’d gotten sick out in the middle of the water. I still had no idea of just how far out I was, and thought that I’d swum in enough that we were likely on the same trajectory again, so not seeing him for 15 minutes wasn’t good. Neither was the fact that the beach just never seemed to get any closer.

My earplugs were knocked out by one of the waves, and everything was louder. It didn’t just sound louder, it was louder. The waves were bigger and stronger, the sky was even darker, seagulls started circling over my head and I STILL couldn’t find VM. All of a sudden everything was a bad movie.

Finally I could see the beach, and on it, what appeared to be a man in a black standing on the shoreline at Jean Klock Park. Hey!! VM!! I swam closer to shore, and stopped my watch. 58 minutes, not bad with all that chop and swimming halfway to Wisconsin. But then I realized that the black wasn’t a wetsuit and the man wasn't VM. It was a guy in some kind of S.W.A.T. uniform! He had binoculars and began waving me in from the water.

Wow, they’re calling people out of the water because of these waves, I hope they got VM out.

“Ma’am, were you swimming out here with a friend?”

And then all at once everything was cold. A thousand thoughts went through my head. He did get sick, damn, why didn’t we just skip this, he probably got dizzy, light-headed, and what if he passed out!!? Wha-

“Ye-Yes, is he OK?”

“Yes, ma'am, he’s looking for you and is pretty worried. Quite a current out there today.”

Blood returns to extremities.

“Oh, wow, OK, um, he called you?”

“Yes, ma’am. He couldn’t find you out there and got nervous.”

“When did he call?”

“I received the call about seven minutes ago, ma’am. Are you OK?”

“Ye- Yeah, I’m fine. Where is he?”

“He’s down at Tiscornia Park with the police and other Coastguard personnel.”

The official had been on and off the radio as we talked and walked, and I looked down the beach to see three people walking towards us. Two “S.W.A.T.” uniforms and one wetsuit. When we all caught up, VM put his hand to his brow and shook he’s head, half-grinning, but visibly upset. “Geez!” (and you can read about everything that was in that "Geez!" here.)

“What’s all this?” I tried to laugh. And he began to explain, all the while going a mile a minute.

“Man, I totally freaked! I couldn’t find you!” He relayed how he just looked up and I was gone, how he stopped swimming halfway to Jean Klock to head to the beach to look for me. How he hiked a dune to look for me, how he woke up some people and asked to use their binoculars to look for me. And then how he went back to use their phone to call 911 to look for me. But with all of these heroics, he wasn’t feeling even remotely like a hero, in fact, he seemed a little embarrassed about the whole thing. “I just freaked out big time! Sorry about the Coast Guard.”

“OMG, are you kidding me!? THANK YOU for calling them. I’m glad you didn’t wait to make sure that I was dead!”

Quite the knight in shining neoprene, if you ask me.

Well, after answering a million questions for the S.W.A.T. suits, VM and I walked the rest of the way down the beach to Tiscornia Park and to our bikes.

There were still about 58 miles to ride with my awesome training partner.

(To read from VM's perspective, go here.)

Back From SEBA #3!

It rocked. And a few things I learned, to be explained in excruciating detail tomorrow, are as follows:

1. I WILL finish the Steelhead swim in under an hour.

2. Low/no humidity makes an ENORMOUS difference in everything.

3. I ride better with nasty thunderstorm clouds chasing me.

4. My Bento Box is also a felony-class weapon, and....

5. The coast guard can begin combing Lake Michigan just seven minutes after calling them (don't worry, everyone is fine).

Yes, excruciting detail...I promise!

And SEBA #3 is GO!!!!!

OK, so the forecast is looking decent for tomorrow's SEBA #3, between 50-60% humidity and in the 80s for the bike and the run leg. Now if the 60% chance of showers can be limited to the swim and the run, we'll be good.

I'm going to try to mix things up a little and take some gels on the bike in order to avoid the powerbites spontaneously turning into barf flavored nuggets come mile 40. The Gatorade Endurance formula seems to work better for me than the Accelerade, as well, so I'm glad I made the switch there.

Any more nutrition/hydration advice for the last SEBA!?? I've been taking in around 800 calories on the bike and going through about 60 oz of fluids (give or take), and that seems to set things up for a decent run. I just want to try to avoid that stomach/hip cramp this time - it's become quite the little thorn in my side. Da dum, dum...

Yeah, I know.

Elemental Allies

It's just equator hot here. I'm not even kidding.

From the house to the car, sunglasses experienced instant onset fog, and the heat index yesterday reached 102. 102 because of humidity is friggin' equator hot.

Tomorrow's SEBA #3 should be pretty interesting with this wonderful humidity. It's actually supposed to storm again all day, which would be pretty cool as long as it stops for the bike leg. VM and I will take off from Jean Klock Park around 8:30, and by the time we get down the 1.2-mile stretch of beach to the swim start at Tiscornia Park, the actual swim leg will likely start around 9:00. Tomorrow is really the last major workout before Steelhead, the big 20-mile run before the marathon. Everything after tomorrow is a wind-down, so I really need to make it count.

Man, I just can't believe that this race is almost here. It's very much going to be a showdown with the sun. I thought for sure that the water would be my antagonist for this race, but it hasn't turned out that way at all. Even the idea of the biggest, nastiest chop doesn't send me scurrying. If you'd have asked me a few months ago, though, I'd have probably turned white at the idea.

No, it's fefinitely about the heat this time, in fact, it's about the humidity, so maybe the water and the sun just teamed up on me. Wow, now that really came out of the blue. I guess that I started on the right track by thinking that the water would be the major hurdle. I just hadn't realized that I had all of this trauma from the marathon, that the extra hour it took me to finish because of that ridiculous humidity stuck to me as much as it did. Seems that I'm learning a lot of things lately.

Yep, that has to be it, I even catch myself thinking about the Chicago Marathon as this redeeming race and I get all excited about it. But, actually, by then it won't really be a fair fight as there will be no humidity to contend with, at least not to the degree that would qualify a fair fight. So, I suppose the grudge match has to be now. Heh, so the war has been with the heat all along...well, at least now I know my enemy.

Two weeks until the first cannon.

As Whispers Icarus

Lake Michigan and the Steelhead sun.

The only other place is in those dreams of mine, an inch from the ground, pulling myself around by the handfuls of grass, my feet like concrete in this half-melted wax. And it feels like I should be going so fast but instead it’s much too slow. People passing me left and right even though I know that I am below the scope of the wind and the rays that would have me pinned like a bug to a specimen glass.

I should clean the earth from my fingertips to get a better grip, but in them I have no stronger clutch. Every inch forward is simply not fast enough, so it seems that there is no getting out from under this plate on my back.

Slow motion momentum causing this confrontation. I am ready, even breathing heavily, but I can not move beneath this ton of light and air. And all the while up there the sky is blue, mocking me as the clouds divide for what breaks through, and they scatter for they know that barring delay by a Hell's army war, when I get loose I will be coming for the sun.

Ah, but you are so young and too bold, just hold for that sun is a seducing one when it calls you early and before you are ready. It is wise and sly and hungry for all those souls that burn like yours, flaming and unsteady, ego open wide, and it will eat you whole to feed that shine. No, not yet for you. Not your turn, nor was it mine.

Just hold, just hold, and in good time you will have your race with the sun.

Late-Night Rambling

Yes, it's three something in the morning, and no, I can't sleep. Too much input today, I guess. That, or I missed the going to sleep window and now I'm just up for the night. It was kind of a long day, so I should be totally wiped, but I'm not at all. I'm half tempted to go and get my eight-mile run in now before the sun comes up. Night running is a whole different kind of running - all of the little shadows in your head come out to cruise the streets after everyone else has cleared out. Makes for some interesting sidewalk shows, and I'm kind of in the mood for that, I suppose.

I went out for a three-mile tempo this morning, At 7:00 it was already ridiculously hot and humid. Insanity. But the run was good in spite of it all. And somewhere between yesterday and today I decided to wean myself off of my MP3 player since I really don't want to screw with it for Steelhead. Yesterday, I managed the first four miles without any musical assistance, and today's run was sans any, as well. Guess that makes tomorrow's (today's!) eight-miler the true test. Well, one of the true tests, anyway. The heat index is supposed to climb to 100 degrees. Guh. Should make for an interesting morning, to say the least. Yet another reason to just get out there now.

Let's see, we spent the rest of the day at the county fair with some family, which was a blast. And yes, these racer back tan lines now are permanently tattooed, thank you very much.

The kids loved the animals - and probably the highlight of the whole day was when we were in the draft horse barn. While my three-year-old son was petting a donkey he said, "Hi Donkey, where's Shrek?" Man, I laughed so hard that I almost started crying.

OMG, and those draft horses, I could have watched them all day. They kind of have that ocean effect on me - just so enormous and powerful that they were mesmerizing.

I'm just ridiculous, there are so many things that strike awe in me. I've seen the ocean (in person) exactly once, and that was just for a few minutes, so I don't think that it counts. Except in pictures, I've never seen the mountains, whales in the wild, the Northern lights, The Redwoods or the Grand Canyon, and the list goes on.

Come the day, I have a feeling that I'll probably react like a five-year-old if seeing those horses today was any indication. Heh, and I guess that I kind of like the idea of seeing the world as a five-year-old might sometimes.

O.M.G. !!!!!!

Will you just LOOK at the ridiculous coolness that has been hanging over head for the past few days!? This was taken yesterday, and I just might lose my mind here pretty soon.

See, this is quite the narcotic for a storm addict such as myself. The air is just electric lately, and I swear that the past few days I've walked out of my house thinking that if I just tried it, I could fly. I can't imagine ever getting enough of that feeling. It could thunderstorm every day for the rest of my life and I don't think I'd ever get sick of it. The bigger the storm the better the vibe, it's just always been like that for me.

But I'm kind of weird like that.

Anyway, yeah, it's all lining up now - if I'm lucky, this weather will stick around for just a few more weeks.

Finally, the Run

Heading out for ten miles this morning. This run should have happened Wednesday, but I rode instead, and then it should have happened yesterday, but the day had other plans for me, so today it’s on.

It’s perfect out here, too - well, for me anyway. Overcast and just on the edge of raining. I could do without the humidity, but it’s not a big deal anymore. Hopefully SEBA #3 will work out - VM is racing this weekend, so we’ll see if he has another 1.2-mile swim, a 56-mile bike and a 5-10K run in him after all that (yep, totally playing on his athletic ego here…help me out, eh?)

Should it work out, SEBA #3 will be the last of the SEBAs for me. The one the week of Steelhead would likely violate taper big time, and I couldn’t go even if I wanted to because I’ll be teaching the second session of summer school in the mornings. So, that said, I’m really looking forward to getting on this course one more time. It’s going to be the final proving grounds for me before getting into the ring for real.

And OK...I have to just say that this is the weirdest feeling! I don’t feel like it's impossible to hold still, on the contrary, I feel like I have more patience and focus than I ever have, but I can't hold still anyway. I feel pulled to tasks and I don’t know if this is the taper talking, or what. It must be, so, Chris, I think that you were right.

Fortunately, it looks like everything will be fine for now regarding all this stalled adrenaline, as I still have the 10-mile run to do, the house to clean, the carpets to wash, the floor to wash, the dog to wash, I suppose I should wash myself somewhere in there, the laundry, the sheets to change, the checkbook to balance, the grocery shopping, the high school summer books to pick up, and the grad essays to grade.

But about what to do tomorrow, well there might be a problem.

After the Fear

I woke up rather abruptly this morning, and caught a thought scuffing and scratching with the rest of my dream dialogue to get back through the door of my subconscious. It didn’t make it, so I had no choice but to take it in for the day.

Sometimes the only way to move forward is to just hold still.

The context was much quicker through that door than this little thought, so trying to make it comfortable in my makeshift logic was difficult. But I did my best:

Holding still = moving forward, hmmm. I think that I knew this a long time ago, but I let it get shoved under the bed with the rest of the loose sock ideas in my head. How ironic to discover it now, when the race of the year and all of the things that I’ve ever feared are two weeks away.

I know that at some point all of my monsters will be out there on that course, and as I’ve resolved, I’m actually ready for them. But this is probably because with the SEBA workouts, I’ve stopped running in circles from them, I've held still and have turned to see exactly what they could do to me (which was nothing compared to what I'd dreamed up). And there you go, progress.

So now I’m not afraid, now I’m not limited by false perceptions, but now there's another problem in that it seems as if I’m the one chasing the monsters in circles because I’m getting so antsy and impatient about this race!!! It's the same stalled adrenaline every day.

I guess that I just need to keep still a little longer. It’s almost time.

A Funny Thing Happened...

All at once my life jumped into one of my minutes today. I don’t know how it all fit in that little space, and I don’t know if I should be happy that it was that simple, or disappointed that it wasn’t more complex.

Either way, it was a hell of a thing letting my hair out of my four-year-old daughter’s plastic butterfly bobble hair band as I got into the shower to wash off bike grease, and then change into my suit to go and teach my Monday/Wednesday grad class.

And I smiled because I knew I couldn't wait to write the whole mess down.

Shifting Gears

OK, life is starting to come back together now, those potholes in the road really rattle everything.

All right, where to start...OK, first, the kids love the new preschool. We love the new preschool, I've put the teachers through the pre-K equivalent to the Spanish Inquisition and they've all endured it smiling, and without missing a beat. Hard to fake that kind of dedication, so I think that this place is a keeper.

Next, I managed to get out for a 20-mile ride today, and I got to use a new gear on my bike!!! Seriously, I thought there were only so many, but it turns out that there was just so much gunk in the gears that I guess number seven was stuck or something. After taking it to Cool Accent Bike Shop Guy, I now have another big gear, and this translates into another 2-3 mph on the flats and the downhills. I just wish that I'd have figured it out on SEBA #1! Maybe then I'd have only had to eat a few flavors of VM and Shelley's dust, and not the whole Baskin Robbins collection. BUT, it looks like SEBA #3 might be a go after all, so maybe I'll get a little redemption out there next Tuesday.

On a side note, I like the shift that's happening now. I'm not sure what it is, exactly, but life without Steelhead stress and panic is a good thing. The race is two weeks away now, and I'm still good, still calm, and still in the no-freak-out zone. I guess that it's all finally in perspecive - life is about more than a race, even if it is the race of your life so far.

Landing

At four o’clock in the morning, things are pretty numb, especially after having gone ten rounds with a preschool. You see, maybe it’s because I’ve been in education for so long, or maybe it’s the two Masters Degrees in the field. Or it could be the fact that I’m a mother who actually cares what kind of day her kids have, I don’t know, you pick, but I think that I might know a thing or two about a classroom.

Yesterday I was all done. There is a point at which a three-year-old can be blamed for something and a point at which it’s going to have to fall on the teacher’s head. When kids are treated aggressively they act aggressively, when they are ignored, they act out for attention. Period. Basic child psychology, or for those who didn’t crack the book in their Early Childhood Development class, the Hallmark card version, “Children who are loved, love in return…etc. etc.” Pretty simple.

The preschool in question is the school of Boshenda Birtha. You may recall Boshenda Birtha, and if you do, you may also recall that she went down hard long ago. Oh, the showdown was epic.

Well, the teacher who pushed it over the line with the inability to do her job yesterday was my son's, Too Young to Teach Trixie. Now, understand that Trixie has the observation skills of a doughnut. She has a habit of being late for work, and time after time I've refused to leave my three and four-year old in a classroom of 12 students of varying ages with the covering teacher, we’ll just call her Gossiping Hag. We call her this because not only do I hate her personality, but because all I have EVER seen her do is gossip to the other teachers in the hallway while a gaggle of kids run amuck behind her. So, this being the situation, I've been late several times for work while waiting on Trixie to drag her 22-year-old ass into school and take half of the kids. Fortunately, I run my own program and have a little more autonomy than most, thus being late hasn’t been a monumental deal, but still, it's been annoying to say the least.

So, anyway, we have a twenty-something naive teacher who hasn’t yet finished school, and a thirty-something inattentive excuse for a teacher with whom I've had issue. Are you following me? Now ask me if I've said something to the director about Gossiping Hag and Trixie being oblivious to the pre-K frenzy that would inevitably result in my son being upset, or in some kind of trouble because when Gossiping Hag and/or Trixie finally started to pay attention to a brewing situation, it was already way past brewed and someone was screaming.

Ask me how many times I've told the two disgraces themselves that they needed to have a routine in the classroom for clean up time and for snack time – I mean sing a song for crap’s sake, something other than yell seven times for all toddlers within ear shot to line up, pick up or shut up! Yes, to answer your questions, I've done all of these things, but to no avail. So yesterday when my son got into trouble, and as is their history, they were unable to tell me what provoked him, I was all done. I still haven’t figured out how the cleanest, newest and most expensive commercial preschool in town has employees who don’t really seem very interested in taking care of kids.

They called me and told me that my three-year-old boy was hiding under a table saying that he wanted his mommy. That he refused to come out and that he swiped at the teachers when they’d reach for him. What? How did this happen? What happened?

We. Don’t. Know.

Don’t you now? What do the camera’s say? What am I paying a small fortune here for exactly? For you not to know? Or how about this, you’ve been grossly negligent and cruel, as I’ve observed myself several times, and you just don’t want to fess up? Yeah, I think that makes more sense. So ladies, we’re all done. And sit down because here’s your earful.



And the remainder of yesterday was spent doing all of the paperwork for transferring schools. The new school is part of the same commercial chain, but it’s a much smaller campus, and hopefully a less chaotic environment. This morning I went in and made sure that the kids were adjusting well. They were happy, and that made me happy.

Before I left I went down the principal’s nightmare parent list, as I made it painfully clear what I expected of this school to the director, and after hearing what I witnessed at the other center, she was very agreeable and supportive.

You remember those dogs that we talked about? Damn, it's not complicated - don’t mess with my kids and everything will be just fine.

Now you see why Steelhead doesn’t scare me anymore.

Understanding Oz

There’s a time just before dawn when nothing is exploding in the distance and everything is still. During this time I almost forget that there is anything else other than this time, and maybe it’s because I can actually think, and I can actually make out the things on the horizon. All of the things that matter aren’t blocked by all of the things that don’t, and I don’t have any trouble deciphering what’s what.

SEBA #2 and likely SEBA #3 aren’t going to happen. A few unexpected events yesterday afternoon hopped into the mix, and I’m going to need to be here instead of being chased down the road by Cujo. And to tell you the truth, that’s really OK. At this point I don’t think that there’s much else I can do for Steelhead. I’ve come as far as I’m going to come, and I’m ready for whatever it has to show me. Maybe I won’t finish within the cut-off, but I don’t care. I’m going to show up and I’m going to finish what I started, and what I bring will have to be sufficient.

You know, I thought that I’d have a harder time with the idea of losing crucial training days, but I don’t. Not now, I think that maybe this is what's supposed to happen at this point. Nothing about this race really sticks anymore no matter how hard it’s thrown, so maybe this is what it’s like to be ready - or not ready. In the end I don’t think that it makes much of a difference because I’m showing up either way, and maybe it was just about that all along. Traveling down this long and winding brick road just to get to the end and pull back the curtain on the big, bad, booming voice of the seamonsters and hills and humidity, and everything else that I thought was intimidating.

Yeah, maybe that little, old, skinny man was all I ever really needed to see, after all. Heh, seems that I actually found what I was looking for out here.

And with that, my friends, the sun is starting to come up.

It's time to go home.

Acclimated

I believe that things are starting to turn a corner. Tomorrow is SEBA #2, and I'm feeling good about it. It's supposed to be humid as all hell out there again, but for some reason I think that it's going to be OK.

I think that I'm going to be OK.

Maybe it came in with the torrential storms over the weekend, I don't know, but the air is different around here. It's not tense or chaotic or freaked out, it's charged and pulsing, and I really feel like I can do this now. I can almost see it, and I'm starting to feel ready.

I've learned so much from all of this. I've learned what it's like to be tossed around by the freezing waves that always seem to growl at me from the edge of the pier. I've learned that they're all the same, that they get so big and then they fall down, and that they all fall down eventually no matter how big they get. From a distance they look like such big seamonsters, but up close, they hit you and fall apart because that's all they are and that's all they can do. Rise up and fall down and fall apart, and I'm just not afraid of them anymore.

I can fathom sitting in a saddle for three-and-a-half hours now that I know that moving half an inch changes everything, that hills are hills, and that I have enough swear words in my vocabulary to get me up the vast majority of them. I've learned that everything feels better after 10 minutes, and that after 40 miles everything seems a lot quieter, that the colors are more saturated, and that most places are really beautiful in their own way. I've learned that powerbites taste like barf after 45 miles, and that for some reason I really don't care.

With the seamonsters slain and the bike mileage put into perspective, I've learned that the humidity on the run was really the last of my great monsters. Come to think of it, I think that it's actually been stalking me for a while - ever since the marathon. It stole an hour from me there, and looking back, my run training has really been sparse since finishing that thing. Heh - I guess that it scared me off of the street. Wow, and I didn't even realize it until now. But you know what, the other day it didn't phase me. Even my socks were drenched and I wasn't hurting at all. Man, did I really cross?

After a while I suppose that the cold water isn't the one that changes - you just acclimate.

Three-Mile Swim!

"Daddy, come and feel the weather!" I heard my daughter say upon opening the patio door.

Yes, I just returned from a three-mile tempo swim. It was supposed to be somewhere in the neighborhood of a 10-mile LSD, but that was assuming that I’d be heading out into air instead of water. Early on I figured it was time to trade it for Wednesday's tempo and come back later in the week for the LSD.

What the hell am I talking about, you ask?

It’s damn humid out here. 7:00 in the morning and the backs of my hands were even shiny and wet. I was absolutely drenched, down to my socks, by the second mile. But the good news, aside from the sweat pouring into my eyes and the immediate onset blindness that resulted for lack of a sweatband, I really had no other problems. No cramps, no breathing trouble, none of the things that immediately fall out of the sky on me once the humidity hits. I think that I must have been vaccinated by that three-and-a-half miler through the soup at SEBA #1.

Ah, so that’s the trick then, little doses.

THIS JUST IN!

The LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon is now full - it's reached the 40,000 runner cap! I registered last week, so I'm set. Fortunately, I think that there are still charity organization openings available for anyone who missed out.

I'm getting really excited about this marathon, no humidity, no hills, Lakeshore Drive and China Town.
It just doesn't get much better than that!

Weekend Prescription

Time to relax and get ready for SEBA #2. This weekend the family and I are heading up to Silver Beach for an annual festival - live bands, music, every kind of food you could imagine, and of course, the beach.

This beach is literally the site of the Steelhead jump off for the swim leg, Tiscornia park is pretty much right there. So, I'm going to try to cement some happy thoughts to draw upon when I'm getting tossed all over the place by the waves come Tuesday. But don't worry, I think that the last of my fears were eaten by the dogs.

Bring on Steelhead Epic Brick Adventure #2!

Fear

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Now I understand it, I suppose that fear is like a vaccine. There’s a small amount of the disease in there the whole time, but it’s what will eventually save your life. Some people can’t get past that and they reject the vaccine only to eventually acquire the stupid disease anyway. Outsmarted by a virus, a germ, adding insult to injury. And then it’s all just rather pathetic. A slow and painful and insulting death.

So, just accept the shot, it’s too small to hurt you. Unchain the gate, let it walk around a little and when the Dobermans get the scent it will be torn to shreds. Just let it in, let it walk around cocky and bold, a virus peacock drunk with its power to infect at will, to contaminate and take over – to absolutely paralyze and dominate. Let it laugh out loud, drawing attention to itself…go ahead, don’t be intimidated. It’s too small to hurt you by itself like that. Let it in, and let the dogs out.

And the next time another one comes around, this one bigger, fatter and stronger, the dogs will remember the sweet taste of that peacock, and their eyes will grow wide and they will salivate upon seeing an even bigger and fatter and stronger peacock. Their stomachs will growl and they will remember that they are animals.

And they will devour that peacock, too.

Heart Out of Pocket

Well, I'm not even sore from all of that SEBA business, but something is off. For some reason there's an oppressive dread hanging around and I don't know what the deal is - fear? I swear that I don't understand the way things work sometimes. I signed up for this race half hopped on some kind of what the hell adrenaline rush, and now find myself in the process of trying to get to the point that I can actually complete the thing.

But why I have no patience with myself, I don't know. This is my first full season, the dabbling in relay triathlon last year can't possibly count for anything, so by all rights I should have never signed up for Steelhead. A half-freakin'-Ironman my first full season out...and now here I am talking about Ironman Wisconsin next year - heh...OK.

So are you about finished with all that then?

Oh, great, you again. Now what, you were the one whining out there in the first place. Got a little nervous when they turned into specks, huh? Wasn't so fun out there all by ourselves in the middle of nowhere, was it?

But they waited just like I said that they would.

Oh, it's you. I thought Mind was coming to give me crap again. I hate this Sybil shit sometimes.

It boils down to why you want it. Just to say that you did it? Just to see if you can? You already know you can, you damn near did the whole race on Tuesday, so what's the real reason for this?

I don't even know what "this" is. I know that ride was long and I know that run is going to seem even longer. There probably will be those radioactive horseflies again, it'll be hot, humid, and if I don't finish the stupid thing within the cut-off I'm going to lose it.

So what if you finish after the cut-off. You probably won't but so what if you do? It's about going the distance, right?

Yeah, that's what they tell you when you don't finish within the cut-off.

Oh, so now you're worried about 'them.'" Let's see, I don't think that's happened since the 10th grade. What's with the all of a sudden worrying about what other people think?

You know, I guess that's not it, I guess it's me. What I'll think of myself if they shut off the clock on me. Like I don't matter enough to count.

So you won't think that you'll be good enough at 8:01? But at 7:59 you'll be good enough? You're basing your self-worth on 60 seconds? Doesn't that sound a little stupid to you?

Probably. Yeah, I guess so. I don't know, I guess that it's more than that. I guess that I'm really tired, and this isn't even the beginning of tired if I'm going to talk about Ironman. Life is a big damn workout, and no one gives you credit for that. No one gives you credit for waking up with kids with fevers, and then having to get up two hours later to try to run or swim or whatever insanity is on the books for the day. And God forbid you miss that 4:00 a.m. wake-up call, if that happens just forget it for the day because there is no more room.

You don't get credit for doing the job of three people and doing it well, you don't get credit for keeping a nice house and making nice dinners and browni -

OK, now you just have to stop, you get plenty of credit for all of that. How many awards has your program won? How much more appreciation could you possibly expect with all of these flowers and thank-yous and I love yous? No, your problem isn't with getting enough credit from any of them, it's with getting enough credit from yourself. You have to start seeing that things are noteworthy even though they don't come with a medal. You don't have to win the Boston marathon, you don't have to go to the Olympics, and you certainly don't have to stress about a race that by any logical person's standards, simply finishing is a pretty damn big accomplishment.

YOU are the one who has to lighten up and realize that there are a million people out there who can't pull off half of your life, and that's before you factor in the triathlon/marathon schedule. Train and race because you can. Because you're not trapped in a wheelchair, because you don't have some kind of terminal debilitating disease, because you're not 700 pounds thanks to some thyroid condition, do it because you're able because one day you won't be, and that's the only time clock you should be paying attention to.

Heh...wow, I guess that makes sense - unbeliveable how I get so lost inside this little pocket. It's really not much without the rest of the outfit, now is it?

SEBA #1 Report - The Run

After the three-and-a-half hour ride (four hours with the stops), I was pretty sure that I wasn't going to run. Shelley had to leave, as her family had exhausted the attractions of the greater St. Joe area, and were ready to call it a day.

Now, what to do, what to do. I swore back there at mile 50 that I was all done for the day. Physically, I was still a little queasy from the swim, but I didn't want to die, though mentally I was pretty done - it was just a long ride.

And then the delirium started to leak out into the conscious world for everyone to see. I think that I started the old slap yourself out of it technique, trying to shake off the stupid before it became too embarrassing. Fortunately, I pulled myself together a bit, and processed that VM was, in fact, going on the run. Ugggggggggg...yes, I have to go. I said I'd go, so I have to go. Body, don't even start, it's almost over.

So, having said our goodbyes and thank-yous to Shelley, VM and I headed out. "So, do you want to head out the start of the course?"

"Is that hill over there?"

"Yep."

"Nope."

"All righty then, we'll go this way."

And we ran the homestretch of the course instead. It was hot, humid and painful. The queasy feeling in my stomach turned into a cramp that I still haven't figured out, I'd drunk like a fish on the bike, so I couldn't have been dehydrated. We stopped to walk for a few minutes here and there until it passed, and then we'd start up again -I felt bad about holding VM up, but he wasn't phased, in fact, he was supportive and encouraging...awesome training partners.

And all of a sudden there was thunder in the background again. I remembered the morning thunder and the surreal skies, and all of the energy started to slip back into me. A few drops here and there turned on a dime into sheets of rain. VM laughed at my resurrection and we ran solid for a while more.

We reached the turn around point after about 20 minutes, and the rain stopped. The flies came out and it was either run or be eaten alive, so I did my best to hobble through the cramp whenever it returned.

Eventually, VM and I reached the parking lot of Jean Klock Park. The finish line. The real finish line.

"OK, when you see this part, you know that the finish line is right around the corner."

And then something happened, I imagined finishing Steelhead. I imagined what I'd be thinking, how I'd feel. If I'd be this tired, this happy, this proud. I knew I'd remember this day with Shelley and VM, the seamonsters, the roaring thunder, the downpours, the vein triplets, Cujo, the flies, and the high-five turned handshake that VM gave me after crossing that line there in the parking lot.

"Wow, we did it."

"Yeah, we did it."

Six hours of movement. Six hours of sunburn, sweat, pavement, water, thunder, and pride. Is this what Steelhead will feel like? And deep down I knew that it was just a preview.

Both VM and I found the sand shower near the beach and let it all pour down, the cold water felt good on my sunburn, and finally my eyes stopped stinging as the sweat washed away. No shower (and as VM said, no cold shower) ever felt so good.

"Awesome job! See you next week?"

"Next week!"

I got into my car tired as hell, as I drove back to the real world to take care of my sunburn, and to tell my family wild stories of seamonster waves, spaceship adventures and new friends.

It had been a very good day.

SEBA #1 Report - The Bike

Up in the transition area I distinctly recall saying out loud, "Oh, doesn't look like we'll need sunscreen, huh?" and I recall everyone saying, "Nah." Nah, they said. Remember that everyone said, "Nah."

As I pulled old Eros out of my car, I got to see the spaceships that VM and Shelley would be riding. Beautiful carbon tri-bikes with spoilers and CO2 cartridges under the saddles. Dual exhaust and leather interior. I don't know if the thunder actually stopped or was simply drowned out by the sound of those two bikes starting up, but I know that I didn't hear anymore thunder for the rest of the bike ride.

We were off, VM, a veteran of this bike course by now, was leading the way. Immediately we were introduced to the mammoth hill that opens the bike course. I actually questioned if my gears were working trying to climb up this stupid thing. Even the smallest ring was hard work! Finally at the top, things evened out for a while and I confirmed that my bike did in fact work, after all. My training partners jettisoned up the hill and were starting to pick up a little speed - VM turned to me and said, "So, what kind of pace are we talking?" I, like the unknowing little fool that I was, said, "Let's try to get out of here in three." Three hours, 56 miles in three hours, hey, that sounded good, right? It didn't occur to me that three hours would require an average speed of oh, say around 20mph. GAH! Well, with their rocket legs and spaceship bikes, this proved not to be a challenge for the dynamic duo. They soon became very far away specks of black and yellow.

No way are they going to leave me back here, they know I don't know where I'm going. VM is very cool like that, he'll realize I'm not up there. But what if he gets talking to Shelley, and in all of her hypnotizing personality he forgets that I'm back here?? What if Shelley is so glad to have someone that can actually keep up with her and give her a challenge on the bike that she forgets too??? "Crap!! GUYS!!!"

You understand that they're like, a light year up the road. By the time your screaming reaches them, you'll be about 82 years old. Better just pedal, hmmm?

Mind was getting annoying already. This was going to be a long trip if it would be just the two of us.

Are you insane?