My Sources of Inspiration

Successful Ironman training and racing would not be possible without acknowledging people who have inspired me along the way. This post is solely about my athletic inspirations. This is not to dismiss or ignore friends and loved ones who have inspired my non-athletic pursuits--you are many and you are crucial!! I'm simply sticking with the purpose of this journal.

In no particular order...

Heather Soistmann. My amazing friend Heather completed her Ironman in 2009 with a smile on her face and glowing stories. Come to think of it, Heather does most things with a smile on her face and glowing stories. She is my constant reminder that life is to be embraced with passion, celebrated with aliveness, gobbled up with voracious appetite. Heather realizes that limitations are largely self-imposed, and she regularly crushes her own. Heather has been my Ride the Rockies partner and my triathlon buddy. She's watched me shine and picked me up when I've melted. And she was the first person I called when I got the official confirmation congratulating me on signing up for Ironman.

Jacquline Mericle. This dear friend is pure sunshine in my life. Jacquline and I often ride and run together. I'm the overly serious one; she's the one saying "hi" to everyone we see. Thank you, friend, for always reminding me that training is also meant to be FUN. Jacquline has mastered positive self-affirmations. She's learned that successful racing is largely about conquering self-talk. I'd like to think this has rubbed off on me.

Lisa Sippy. Lisa is my longest athlete friend. Although we've been friends for over 25 years, we have only recently started racing together. Lisa is an avid runner, having completed a few marathons and half-marathons, and many shorter races. Lisa and I have been each others' cheering-sections-from-afar, sharing training wins and woes. And in March of this year, we raced together for the first time. We met in Dallas for the Rock 'n Roll 1/2 marathon. Lisa immediately set a blistering pace and I was simply focused on keeping up with her. When we crossed the finish line, I was shocked at our time--my self-limiting belief had me finishing 15 minutes slower. It is because of running with Lisa that I shifted from seeing myself as "someone who runs" to "a runner." It's more than just a shift in semantics. Come January, we'll attempt to shave another 15 minutes off our time at a 1/2 marathon in Miami.

My Mother. When I was an awkward teenager struggling with all things awkward-teenager, my mother was a model of self-care. She always prioritized health and wellness, and she was my first official workout partner (remember step aerobics?). To this day, she keeps active and healthy, and we often walk or practice yoga together, activities that bring us even closer.

My Father. Some of my earliest memories of my dad are of him lacing up his shoes and heading out on a run. I can still smell the bubble gum he'd chew. He ran a marathon one year and did very well, and I can remember thinking that that was a pretty awesome accomplishment. Little did I know at the time I would be following in his footsteps years later. My father was always super fit--he had little body fat and was a health-food nut before there were health-food nuts. Even now, he's vigilant about his health and well-being.

My physical surroundings. I moved to Denver to be outside. It also helped that my older brother lives here. The mountains, the sunshine, the lakes, the valleys--they all scream for me to be outside. I do things on bike rides I would never be able to do on road trips. I see things on trails I would never see otherwise. So when my training plan tells me to take a 4-hour bike ride, I itch to get started and am kinda bummed when it's over.

To all of my sources of inspiration: a "thank you" doesn't quite suffice. I certainly would not be where I am without you.

Swimming as meditation

I love being in the water. Pool, stream, lake, reservoir--I find water therapeutic. My triathlon training has given me a whole new appreciation for the power of water. Race swimming is largely about technique, about moving my body as efficiently as possible through the tremendous resistance that water provides. Mastering effective technique has taken me hours in the pool, many laps, and risking swimmer's ear and pruny fingers.

I used to regard pool workouts as a necessary evil: something to do when I couldn't swim outside. Something to make me strong come race season. Something to bridge the time between when the reservoirs closed in fall and re-opened in the spring. Since my tri race season ended six weeks ago, the unexpected has happened: I can't wait to swim laps. My swimming has become my meditative activity. When I'm having a not-so-great day, like yesterday, I hop into the pool and my mood magically transforms.

Here's the thing about swimming. It's the one activity I do truly alone. I often bike and run with others, and that is one thing I love about biking and running. But by its nature, swimming is a solitary exercise. Even when I swim with friends or training partners, there's no talking mid-stroke because, well, you get the idea. This forced alone time gives me a chance to check out of life and apply focus to one thing: moving my body through the water. For an hour or more, I am concentrating on my breathing, my stroke, how my body feels in the water, the lap number, the distance covered so far. If my mind wanders, the water takes control. I lose count of laps (and being a numbers girl, that really bugs me), I slow, I sink, and I stop breathing.

The tremendous presence that swimming requires from me leaves me feeling renewed when I'm done. The meditative quality of my swim workouts makes them a perfect alternative for me. My desire for movement makes other forms of meditation, like sitting, quite unpleasant. And I wouldn't consider biking and running meditative activities for me--there are too many things to look at and friends to talk to. When I need isolation, quiet time, and to refocus, I hit the pool.

Here are two more benefits of swimming at this point during the season. First, being in the pool where the scenery doesn't change for as long as I am is great mental training for Ironman. Second, I think I'm becoming a better swimmer simply because I'm not trying to. Nice!

Training: Where I've been, where I'm going

There's something about being an Ironman-in-training. I approach all of my training sessions with a new attitude and appreciation. Every minute and every mile in the pool, on the bike, and on the run paths will pay dividends come June. Every missed workout or half-hearted effort may potentially derail my mission.

Since signing up for Ironman, I completed two races: Boulder Peak Olympic-distance triathlon and Boulder 70.3 (a half-ironman). Both races were different than any others, primarily because I didn't panic at the start. I found my breath! What a difference breathing makes. It particularly helps in the water. I met my goals in both races and finished feeling strong.

And now approaches the "off-season." For me this year, there really isn't much of one. My training has dropped a bit, as evidenced most clearly by the subsequent drop in my appetite (note to self: must also stop eating so much). I do have a half-marathon in October, so my running mileage is still up. Biking and swimming, however, are in "maintenance." I'm enjoying taking rides now "just cuz." My coach may beg to differ, but I figure I have until January before training starts to ramp up.

My plans for this temporary lull in an otherwise intense training schedule, in no particular order:

• hit the yoga mat, at least twice a week
• start strength training again (as much as I dread it)
• do the mental and psychological planning for Ironman
• experiment with race and recovery nutrition
• keep up my regular massages (some people say "oh how nice" but trust me, these are not "fluff and buff" rub-downs)
• enjoy not hitting it hard day in and day out
• interview house cleaners
• read relevant articles and books
• read for pleasure
• research Coeur d'Alene for family and friends
• travel

Today happens to be my day off--it is Steve's birthday. I planned it that way on purpose. I have come to relish my sanctioned days off. The days on are hard enough.

Off to celebrate with Steve. Happy Birthday sweetie!

Why a blog? Let's back up: Why Ironman?

Where to begin? I guess my quest for Ironman began many years ago. Well before I completed my first triathlon. Before I started swimming. Perhaps it was while I was falling in love with cycling. I just didn't know it at the time. Even back then, sometime in the early 1990s, something in the far reaches of my mind, where dreams catch their first breaths, I had an image of me as an athlete crossing the finish line at Ironman. I didn't share this with anyone. They'd all think I was crazy. I didn't even admit it to myself for several years--perhaps I believed the being-crazy-thing.

So I went along with life, finishing my PhD, finding my first real job, riding more and more miles every week, moving to this state and that. And something funny happened along the way. I began to surround myself with athletes, active people who liked pushing themselves. I also pushed myself, farther and harder.

And then I moved to Colorado, where "active" takes on a whole new meaning. Cycling morphed into multi-sport. If one sport is good, three are even better! Sprint triathlon opened the door to Olympic-distance races. As I became officially hooked on triathlon, I wanted to go farther and harder. I had a blast at my first half-iron-distance race. And I thought "this is good! The training was manageable...I can do this distance well...and have fun at the same time. This is good enough."

Or not. Here's the thing. I am wired for endurance. I'm not the fastest, but I can go seemingly forever. The longer I go, the better I feel. I crave 100-mile bike rides. A 3-mile run is a warm-up. A mile in the water is a "light" day.

So why Ironman? Because it's the next distance. Because I can't think of another accomplishment that will require more physical, mental, psychological, and emotional commitment and discipline. And that excites me.

So, then, why this blog? Because I need support. I can't do this alone. I have training partners here in Denver. I have my family and friends. And if you're reading this, you are my virtual training partner. Even if no one really reads this, I will pretend someone is and that will be enough to motivate me, especially on winter days when all I want to do is hibernate.

Thank you for joining me! I welcome your comments...let me know you're out there!