Victoria Sprint Triathlon - Race Report

Rest day is always a good day to catch up on a report, and quite exciting for all is that super photographer Shawn was at the race this weekend with his trusty camera - and I get to do a photo essay race report!  How exciting :)

1.  We slept in our super van at a super lake.  A very convenient unnamed lake.  Look how excited I am to race my very first sprint!

2.  Start of the Sprint Swim. This picture is awesome because one guy is actually going the wrong way.  I wonder how his day turned out.  I realized minutes before the start of the race that this swim had 200-ish people going 150m and then turning right.  Ha!  At one point I found myself launched up onto a very nice man who thought it was as funny as I thought it was that he was going to piggy back me around the first bouy.  Thanks nice guy!  Sprint swim = awesome!

3.  The swim exit.  Usually I try to swim all the way up until my nose hits the sand (or close) but these girls were playing a pretty awesome underwater Battlestar Galatica - so I pulled up early and did some awkward water running.  I should really try to smile for the camera one of these times because this really was one of the more fun, chaotic, swim survival manoeuvres I have ever pulled off!

4.  I love this photo.  For anyone who knows anything about my T1 times, they'll know I like to take about 4-6 minutes getting my butt in gear.  So in an attempt to get competitive, I've upped my game.  I think I got out in under 2 minutes and I'm pretty darn proud.  This photo should be in the National Geographic feature on triathletes, wild, in their habitat.

But instead of David Attenborough announcing, it was the lovely Steve King.


5.  The bike course was lovely and I really enjoyed blasting through it with little consequence.  I only had to run 5km!  So, pedal power!  My hands were almost warm enough to shift gears (what a treat!) and I even felt somewhat yearning to continue on to the 1/2 Ironman course and not turn off for the sprint (but that would be silly) so off I went to the finish.  This photo is two fold.  Firstly, it is public shaming of myself for being too chicken to take my feet out of my shoes while nearing the dismount line.  I feel like if I put it out there, I better not do it again.  It makes running so awkward.  Secondly, and more humourously, what I want to know is what is this guy looking at?  Perhaps my decoy German tri shorts has him all befuddled.

6.  Triathletes in the wild Part II.  The native triathlete returns to their habitat, a cold and unlikely place to store their valuable trinkets they have acquired over the winter months.  They shed their protective shells and don new toys with stretchy laces.  Look, as the spectators do, in amazement of the rare triathlete at home.

 This show, narrated by the lovely Steve King, told me & many others that I was in 2nd place - wow - a surprise to me!  Shawn also gave me the information that I was at least 2 minutes back of the first place woman, and, as I was running down out to the trail, he told me the 3rd place woman had just come into transition.  So, a little more stuff to think about rather than just get my legs moving, so, that was a nice little challenge.  Knowing who was in 1st place was a bit of a kicker because I was sure she wasn't a slow runner, and I'd just have to figure out the damage at the turnaround point.  The gap was sizeable, albeit shrinking, and I just told myself to keep working hard and not to let up as this was only a 5km and I had better do it in under 20 minutes.  I did.

7.  Now, the fun part was on.  Before this race started, there was conversation between me and my friend Joerg.  We were both doing the sprint.  We both have our talents and they are both in different arenas.  So, the challenge was obviously on, and it was a challenge to Joerg to get a big of a gap as possible so I couldn't catch him on the run.  Too bad Joerg.  At about 150m to go, I hit the sprint button (fitting, because this is a sprint) and ran him down.  I won by 2 seconds.  Now, just wait for the sequel, which will be coming in the Vancouver 1/2 Ironman.  Joerg is back & I'm sure looking for revenge.

8.  My last post was entitled, "4th race, 5th place".  Now I could title this "5th race, 2nd place" but then the next post I'd be in the minuses and that is neither possible nor encouraging, but I can say I did finish in 2nd place, and won my age group.  Not bad for my first Sprint distance triathlon!  Coming in under 70 minutes was the goal, and that was definitely accomplished.  I really paid no attention to the running clock until I crossed the finish line, so that was a nice surprise.  And within 10 minutes of rest, I felt like I could do it all over again - what a difference from what you feel like after a 1/2 or full Ironman.  No wonder so many people like short course triathlon!

And that's that.  A story in pictures.  This was a great race and a really fun way for me to try a sprint triathlon.  Now it's back to the long stuff - and that is exciting too - doing a shorter race faster makes you want to do the longer race faster too.  How do you know how fast you'll go until you try it?

In my ever evolving thoughts on triathlon, two new features have seemingly become paramount.  First, you need to be good at getting your body to adapt and change to the newest demand put upon it, whether that is in training or in racing.  Second, you also need to have some type of short term amnesia, to trick your body into doing a whole new sport all over again, and this applies to training and racing also.  "What, no, I didn't just swim in a thrashing pirhana tank.....I'm just going for a bike ride......What, no, I'm just going for a run, but I have no idea why my legs feel like the Pokey and Gumby figurines".

It's been pointed out to me on several occasions by the people I love that at times, I'm called "unobservant".  Like when I didn't notice we had a new somewhat large flat screen TV.  Or, perhaps the time I didn't notice we had a new car (granted, it was the same colour as the old one....).

So, perhaps it has always been in my DNA to be a triathlete.  Time will tell.

Next stop.  Vancouver 1/2 Ironman.

Let's go Vancouver girls & boys.  It's our turf (and surf).  And anyone who rides in Vancouver owns the UBC hill.

Crush it kids :)  Happy training everyone!

4th race, 5th place

Let the games begin!

Last Sunday was my first triathlon of the season at Shawnigan Lake 1/2 Ironman.  Great races are a pretty wicked way to start your racing season.  Especially when it's your 4th one.  Now, mind you, even though it's the 4th, I've only picked long ones, so to be fair, I've had a good amount of race time for only 4 races.

My history of triathlon is short.  And it goes like this:

#1 - "Triathlons are fun"
2009: Oosoyos 1/2 Ironman: 5:56:58
33rd place (F), 5th in my AG
My swim was 51 min, including panic attack, plus, off course swimming and a chat with the kayak guy.  "Do you want to finish the race"....uh, yes please.  I now know this time was on the slow side.  I came 97th out of the water, of, 104 women.  But as they always do for me, things got better and I ran it into a sub 6.

#2 - "Swimming can be scary"
2010: Oliver 1/2 Ironman: 5:21:19
38th place, 9th in my AG (to be fair, a more competitive race, despite my 35 min PR)
Swim was 45 min.  But this included a fairly lengthy cold water panic attack, 50m of breaststroke, and about 750 of backstroke.  This really makes you take a beating in the energy department, but, if you go with the concept that moving forward is good, you'll get there.

IMC 2010: just delightful (photo credit to JH)

#3 - "Ignorance is bliss"
2010: Ironman Canada: 10:58:13
I believe top 50 F (including 16 pros), and 10th in my AG.
It was great.  Point to point.  I loved it and during the run I got sad because I didn't want it to end.  A blissful 1:17:17 swim, and it just got better from there.  On that day, ignorance really was bliss.  I had no idea what to expect and I got everything I ever wanted.


Finally...
#4 - "Cut to the chase"
2011: Shawnigan Lake 1/2 Ironman: 4:57:38
5th place, 2nd in my AG (only a 24 min PB, rats)
Now, the game has changed.  I swam a 34 min something.  Remember, I swam 51 not so long ago.  Non-swimmers take heed.  Anything is possible.  I'm not going to be the fastest swimmer, but, I have a feeling I'm going to become one of the best chasers.  Some people are fishy swimmers, rockets on bikes, stars in transition, my secret weapon is going to become the chase.  Be afraid, I'm-ma comin' to getcha.

So that's the long and short of it.  4th race, 5th place.

Ok, to the race report.....

Shawnigan 1/2 bulleted Race Report (because the Canucks are playing and this is intermission):

-Yes, this was a cold swim.  My best advice to others is buy a neoprene cap and strap that sucker on (they allowed gloves and booties - who knew??? not me, or else the only skin you would have seen on me would be my chin)

-This was a cold swim, but it wasn't uncomfortable (when your hands are numb they're not painful, they're just numb).

-I got the feeling back in my hands by the 2nd lap of the bike.  That's not too shabby.  Feet came back about the 3rd.  No worries there, as that's great timing for a nice 4th lap and a trip to transition.

-I biked harder than I had in previous races, not really knowing how it would feel - it felt pretty good actually - I'm going to try that again.

-The run.  Ouch.  That's what you get for not running for a month.  Ok, lies, I ran, but not very much, and I didn't really like it.  A marathon on May 1st took a meat tenderizer to my legs and didn't let up, for what seemed like an eternity.  I was told speed wouldn't be there.

Well, that was certainly true.

In the second half of the run, sufferfest began, things got ugly, and then a little uglier.  However, going
back to great depth of triathlon experience, one thing always holds true, 'going forward is good' - and you just can't quit.  Don't quit.  You might lose time, but you certainly gain some character.

legs.  love hate. loved them then, hated them now.

So, cobwebs dusted off after focusing on running up until May and not doing a triathlon since last August,,  I am getting very excited (finally, not feeling scared!) to race the next race, and the one after that, and on and on.

Victoria, see you in two weeks :)  Vancouver, see you in 4.

And I looked up "chase" just to make sure I was picking the best secret weapon.  Mmmmm, gamey triathletes.  My vegetarian roots just might be in trouble.  I smell spandex.

chase ¹  (chs)

v. chased, chas·ing, chas·es

v.tr.

1. To follow rapidly in order to catch or overtake; pursue: chased the thief.

2. To follow (game) in order to capture or kill; hunt: chase foxes.

3. To seek the favor or company of persistently: chased me until I agreed to a date.

4. To put to flight; drive: chased the dog away.

Crazy?  Maybe.  But I'm having fun.

seriously. this is me having fun :)

arms, legs, lungs

Getting back in shape.  It's tough.  It's so much easier when you're feeling fit and everything is easy.  You don't even think about the mechanics of running b/c it just comes to you - your limbs are pre-programmed and effortless.  You still work hard when you need to, but you have a sharp sense of control.  You've got gears and you can shift.

In the post marathon wasteland, you've got nothing.  Well, I had nothing.  I wrote before about the mental struggles and the downtime I found myself in, whether I liked it or not.  Slowly I began to enjoy exercise again - mostly in the swimming and biking domain.  And, for anyone who knows me, for me to say that swimming was my favourite....woo boy, I was definitely not into running :)

biking.  more fun than running.

It was nice to get outside again, exploring on my bike, very little pressure but set goals for the day, time, speed, whatever it was (making it to Steveston for croissants...Deep Cove for doughnuts...you see the theme?).  Even in the pool, I was happy to lend a little more focus to what I was doing, and all of a sudden, I realized I was improving in the water, but I have been so focused on the marathon that I didn't even notice.  That may be the blessing and downfall of triathlon - your mental energies can only be spent in so many places, but, simultaneously, you can't get too worked up about any one thing because your next workout is usually only a few hours away (if that).  

Now maybe I'm totally off the mark because I really don't consider myself a 'real' triathlete - coming from the outside as a runner, it's been hard to identify as such.  However, I do now feel like I belong on the start line, whereas before I felt like a total fraud.  Man, I was SO stressed about it all.  I was talking to Shawn and joking about how awful it must have been to be around me before my 1/2 Ironman last year (he wasn't around for the 1st 1/2 Ironman, which is just fine, because I was so sick he probably would have locked me in the car).  He confirmed, yes, it was awful, I was stressed, it was not enjoyable.  Lucky for both of us, it got better.

But for 1/2 Ironman #2, everything made me feel awful - tuning up my bike (I was worried it would screw it up - the opposite effect of most tune ups), going into get my race package (they know I'm a phonie!!), going into transition to rack my bike (look at these crazy fast bikes!), making sure I had all these tidbits of gear that I had only vague ideas of what to do with, showing up race morning and looking around at all these totally intimidating looking people, and on and on.....I felt awful.

I never got excited, I was never happy (only when I got out of the wetsuit and onto my bike, did a glimmer of happiness occur - and then true happiness occurred for me on the run), and I was so stressed that I'm sure I did not reward anyone who was being supportive as I could only see down the small black tunnel that lay ahead of me.  And I was no stranger to racing, but all this was totally uncomfortable.  But I'm also a person who believes in getting out of your comfort zone, so I did have a belief, however uncomfortable I was, that I was doing the right thing.  I was just going through some serious growing pains.

Ironman Canada came around and things were very different.  I was more nervous about the physicality of the task, and really only about how to manage effort levels throughout the day.  I was less hung up on gear and procedural tasks - I understood those better now.  I had more energy to put into thinking about how to move my body through 140.6 miles, and more time to remind myself of all my training, my survival of two panic attacks in  two race swims, my ability to complete an absolute hellish training ride from Oosoyos to Keremeos and back (on my Nishiki!), and my consistent toughing it out in the marathon.  I had a mental toughness bank and I was fully prepared to make some withdrawls if needed.

proof of happiness during IMC!

So finally, I could put to rest all the worries and chatter and start reinforcing my belief in myself - finally!  I think when you've been in a sport for a while, you forget how much mental energy 'new' athletes have to spend on everything but the pure basics that move them forward - arms, legs, lungs.  It's really that basic, but not when you're new at this.  Then it's anything but.

Now I'm going back to triathlons.  It's great because although I am now just feeling ready to compete again, I don't think I could be doing it in any other venue except triathlon.  Talk to me about a running race only.  Yuck.  No thanks.  But do a 1/2 marathon during a 1/2 Ironman.  Sure, sounds good.  Triathlon running is very different.  It's a chase, for me at least, and it's fun!  Maybe also because I'm signed up for a few triathlons this year, there is much less pressure on performance and end targets and more focus on learning experiences in each part of the sport, and more so in tying them all together and seeing what happens.  There'll be more pressure perhaps toward the end of the year, but I am a believer that you can only put on so much pressure before your cooker explodes, so you need to use it wisely.  I am just coming off a fairly highly concentrated race in the marathon, so I'm happy to just race and enjoy it.  How novel.

Maybe this is a case of not-yet-got-the-pre-race-gitters, and I always seem to fall into the zone I need before a race, sometimes sooner than others, but I'm not there yet, and I'm pretty happy about it.  I'm so relaxed at this point I keep worrying (see, worry is still here - I'm not immune) I'll forget my helmet or my cycling shoes or something stupid like that.  Running races are quite simplified compared to a tri race.  But they're not as complicated as I originally thought.

So, while I'm digesting oatmeal and chilling with my feet up, I'm building strength and peace in my body for the upcoming race this weekend.  I'm excited to get out there.  The strange thing to me about triathlon is that the last race I did was last August!  That was a long time ago!  Seasonally, triathlon rules where running is a year round standard.  So I'm excited to see the gains I've made in the last 5 months.

I'm even considering getting elastic laces.  So maybe I am a little bit triathlon after all...

Lots of races coming up this weekend so good luck to everyone out there - don't forget to have a little bit of fun along the way - it might just make you go faster :)

this made me go faster & have fun!

the three R's: a reflection, a report and some rest

my only ability to move post race - on a bike

I'm not really sure how to start this report.  I've had a degree of ambivalence about this race since I finished it.  I don't think that's a bad thing.  But I will say that going faster isn't linearly related to happiness.  Happiness does, however, seem to be related to the ability to understand oneself, and that is the process I seem to be going through now.

I've wrote to a few people after the race to try and explain how I felt the race went, and I'm not really sure if I had any success in translating my thoughts.  This was a big goal for me, it's taken a number of weeks and months to prepare for it.  I executed my plan and my goal within seconds over a distance of 42.2km.  I think, to my defence, if I sound a bit blase, I am quite tired from the whole effort.

A year ago I would have thought that a sub 3hr marathon would have brought elation beyond all comprehension to my running career.  Maybe I set my expectations too high.  Maybe, just maybe, I was underestimating myself and my potential to be even faster.  Because at sub 2:55, I can still see how to get faster - and I can see that this isn't the end.  That may sound annoying to a lot of people reading this, but, it's honest.

I am tremendously proud of my race effort and do feel very connected to the sense of work and discipline I put into that race - the process of the thing.  I do get emotional when I think of how overwhelming my friends and family have been in supporting and congratulating me.  It's astounding, and in the case of this particular race, I have really leant upon the messages from others to help keep things in perspective for me.

perfect moments in the marathon

Some race reports read all the brutal details of mishaps, boring pace splits and humoured happenings along the way, with the apex of positivity resulting in the final time.  My race report is somewhat backwards in that sense this time.  For me, this race meant the process, not the final result.

The race itself was beautiful, I hit my splits like a Swiss watch.  It is green and winding, across rivers and along heavily laden support on community roads - it was a treat to run.  I could go on, but it's probably just better that you come to run the course if you want to know more.  Eugene itself is a quaint little college town, that really does honour its runners - and for a new-ish marathon, it is building quite a bit of momentum.  I'm sure this will eventually be on the "to do" list of many long distance runners alike.

truly track town usa

As marathons go, I felt like I was out for an easy jog up to about the 1/2 way point - you always want to go faster but you shouldn't.  With a couple miles being a bit too fast, I easily scaled things back and tried not to get caught up in the 'bank the time' game and switch gears to the 'trust the process' game.  Once I went through the half way point, I attempted to try and sit into a pack of men, hoping they'd run the pace I needed to go at, but after a mile split, sadly, they weren't going fast enough, so I had to do almost all of my running alone, quite literally, in no man's land.

As I often caught onto the back of run packs in the 16+ mile stages, they always seemed to disintegrate, and I moved on (not that I'm complaining - I like passing people).  I know at a point a ways past the 1/2 way mark, a man was counting out #'s.  I was #92.  I finished in 68th, so I definitely picked off some people along the way.  Women in particular, are always the best to pass.  When I was reviewing the race with Carolyn, I came to realize that no woman passed me beyond the turn off to the half marathon race point, and only one lone red-shirted fellow, after I passed him during the final mile, came back with guts like Pre to out kick me on Hayward field, in the final 300 yards of the race.  But he was the only one.  Good stats for him :)

To be hitting your splits mile after mile is a reward in itself.  I can't really even say I looked at anything cumulative either than 10km and 1/2 marathon markers.  I just work split to split and trust that if I get that done, the total running time will fall into place.  At the end of the race, that last 6 miles, I just can't think much about numbers anymore - it just becomes a fight.  So that's what I did.  I am ever grateful for my super-fan Carolyn's support along the course and at this point it became more important than ever.  There was a bit of a lull for me and it happened at mile 23.  It carried into mile 24.  And when I saw my watch creep up for the 2nd mile I knew I had to claw back and put whatever energy I had left into the last two miles.

p-a-i-n

Splits dropped back down but I felt like hell.  I've never had leg pain like I did in this race.  The funny thing is, even though this one was more acutely painful, there really was less fatigue, and I was able to start creating great big fat lies to myself and actually believe them.  Such as the "you LOVE this feeling in your legs", "this pain is just AWESOME".  Lies.  Big fat ones.  But I sort of embraced it and got a kick out of how much they hurt (delirious? possibly, but I had stuck to a great fuel plan).

hydration - a beautiful thing :)

I reached a point in the last 1/2 mile or so that I had nothing left in me to speed up, but I wasn't slowing down, and my body just seemed to mechanically take care of itself and run itself all the way to the line.  As I reached the final bend and saw a low 2:54:something on the clock, I knew I had accomplished my goal.  Seconds at this point were quite secondary.  I had made it.  And then I almost hit the deck after finishing, but those nice ladies really don't let you fall - thank you catcher ladies :)  After that is a blur of chocolate milk and sunshine - you can't ask for anything better.

From that point on, I've just felt a bit stunned about the actual time goal.  I think it's still sinking in - and this is over a week later.  And I think it's a good thing.  Too often I think we finish a race only to start bouncing ideas around about the next one, the next time, the next goal.  Take a little bit of time to think about the thing you've been working on for weeks and months.  Don't discard it and move on.  It is tempting for me just to start focusing on the next thing (and of course I have races lined up, but I'm not yet ready to put the mental energy into them like I did for this one) but I am still sorting this one out.  It will come.  The next step is going to take a lot of work, and I think I just need some peace & quiet to absorb this experience before I move on.

Now the strangest thing is going to be changing gears from running to triathlon.  Even though I've been training all year in all three sports - I am finally going to be going back to racing triathlon after doing my last race at Ironman Canada last August.  That's a long time ago.  It's exciting, but I'm not quite ready to accept that I have to do it yet.  Give me a couple of weeks.  Let me get my wetsuit back on and smell that neoprene smell.  Please mother nature, have a sense of humour and shoot some sun our way for a while.  I'd ask you to turn up the temperature too but I'm pretty sure that would be asking too much.

So I hope to all of you who have had big races in the last couple of weeks, or have big races yet to come, that you enjoy the process as much as I did.  I hope you also get a great recovery after, as I did with the ability to slowly cruise my bike along the spectacular Oregon coast with saltwater taffy and fudge stops along the way.

the taffy

the fudge

Here are some photos trips out and about on the Oregon coast - enjoy :)

florence, OR

sea lion cave!

Heceta Head lighthouse

my lead pack

What a day.

I ran along a winding country road on Saturday, my first day in shorts and a t-shirt, no gloves, no toque, no arm warmers. Looking past the expansive green farmers' fields, bright red barns, the odd stationary horse or cow, there were impressive mountain ranges covered in snow and at the same time the sun was warm on my back.  Despite all this, I was still feeling pretty sorry for myself, having caught a nasty virus which appeared to be reaching it's peak of annoyance.  Running was, however, making me feel a little better (this is relative to feeling like hell).  I felt I had at least accomplished one productive thing that day.

I was somewhat stuck in the rut of feeling sorry for myself, that is, until I hit a certain bend in the road and all of a sudden had a total shift in perspective.  All of a sudden I had a rush of new thoughts that seemed so familiar.  And then I realized I had been in this exact spot before.  And when was that time?  I realized I was running down the road I ran in my first marathon.  My first real race for that matter.

All of a sudden all the pieces fit into place.  I remembered looking ahead, across the field, seeing other runners ahead of me, running down the long, slow incline they ran up Headquarters Rd.  Remembering the man I just passed and chattily tried to talk to - he didn't talk back (a theme that would be enforced the faster I got, the more I realize men don't like talking to you).  The Country Roads Comox Valley marathon in 2004 - now defunct.  I don't remember a single negative thought about the whole race, although it was almost 7 years ago.  But all of a sudden I remembered what it was like to be in the race, running along that road, to my amazement, running a 'marathon'.

I don't remember much of my training back then, except that I seemed to run a lot, and once a week I would run a 'long run', longer than the run I ran a week before it.  Most memorably during that training I remember running 21 kilometres, and being the most proud I had ever been in my running career.  I didn't have a training plan, I certainly didn't have a coach, but I definitely had some help, and more than enough encouragement along the way.

Therefore, this short story is directed toward my 'lead pack'.  The group of people most influential to my running career, and everything that comes along with it.

Two of the most influential people in my running career, Chris Round and John Elson, are not surprisingly, also runners.  Both were teachers at my high school, and both were involved the local running community, so I no doubt drifted towards them for advice, and good thing I did - because I really had no idea what I was doing.   Lucky for me, running is simple.  Ha.

When I was visiting them both some point early that summer, I announced that I was going to run the marathon.  I do quite clearly remember John saying, "That's ambitious!" in a very kind, yet motivating way.  Chris just kept feeding me every time I visited - another important lesson I learned - how to eat (lots!).   I think they questioned me a little and asked perhaps if I wanted to do a shorter race first just to get that under my belt?  Not really, I said.  Clearly this displayed my lack of understanding of anything to do with running.  So, I learned from this lesson when I chose to do a 1/2 Ironman before a full Ironman, as my first triathlon.  Who says you can't teach old dogs?

The first piece of advice?  "Do you drink any water on your run?".  I said, "No".  And they gave me a spare hydration pack of theirs (I have it....somewhere, and I should return it!).  That was a miracle.  Often I ran up to 2 hours without any water (and certainly nothing like a gel or sugar of any sort).  If I had to stop and tie my shoelaces, when I stood up, I got dizzy.  At times I saw little coloured spots towards the end of my runs, but it really didn't distress me.  Having fluids was a godsend.  I don't know if I had gels or not at this point - maybe I did....I know I did for the race.  At least one, maybe two :)

Conveniently Chris and John lived about 15 km from my house, so I am willing to bet that running to their house (where they often loaded up my bottle with gatorade and gave me an extra glass to drink while I was there) was my longest run ever completed before the marathon, there and back, about 30km.  They were such good sports for putting up with my pestering them every couple of weeks or so during that summer.  I really didn't have any doubts that I wouldn't be able to finish, nor did I get that impression from then - I just had no idea how long it would take me  (it took me 3:35:35 - not bad - and then I had to ask somebody the question, "What does a 'Boston Qualifier' mean?)

A lot of time has passed between then and now, and I feel so lucky to have these two supporters in my corner.  I have now run enough miles that I'm getting closer and closer to some of John's race times - something he probably hates, but something that I hold in quite high regard!   Also, I won't lie, something I would like to try to beat (who didn't expect that?). I sense, although Chris is the least likely person to brag about her accomplishments as a runner, that she ran at the top of her class amongst her peers - something I strive to do regardless of pacing or race times.  These people have been true mentors to me in every way and if I chopped up my medals at the end of the race, they'd be getting pretty big chunks of them.

To be honest, I'm not even sure why I picked the marathon.  I had always run for fitness and had success and happiness as a competitive soccer player in high school and university.  I wrote before that the marathon was my first 'real' race.  I had in fact done a race before, in high school, the girls' soccer team was combed for girls with fitness that could complete a cross country race.  I don't think we were told how long this race was, but were strongly suggested to attend (we would then get more points for our high school 'team').  And, we got to miss a day of school.  Sold!

This is where, I think, running & racing could have gone solidly downhill for me.  You are lined up to compete with girls who (gasp!) have trained for this, and doubly against you, know what they're doing.  Looking back now, I am sure they even had spikes, we had running shoes (although some of us might have run in our cleats?).  So although I really couldn't have called this a 'race' for me, it was more of a task for completion, I actually liked it (I also remember sucking wind BIG time - I was a fast starter - and we all know how that ends....)

I think I actually attended 2, if not 3 races in high school, but I can't remember.  I don't know where I finished but it wasn't first or last.  Another reason this task of running (which is usually used for some type of punishment in most other sports) turned out to be something fun, is that we had one heck of a positive guy leading our pack.

Many runners on the Island will know and remember Karl Klein.  Here was a guy that was more than accepting of us 'non-runners' into what seemed like such an elite group, not totally dissimilar to the antelope at the zoo - graceful and fast - we soccer girls were more like the rhinos of the group - sturdy killers.  He told us we'd do great, and told us to have fun.  There wasn't a lot more instruction than that- he didn't make it complicated.

It would be a few years later until I truly appreciated Karl for all his positivity and kind words, as I raced beside him in a handful of local Island races.  He was often the only person I knew at races, a venue quite unfamiliar and at times a bit uncomfortable, to me.  But if Karl was there, he was chipper and all smiles, and put my fears at ease.  He helped me like road racing.  I feel very lucky to have had him as one of my most influential runners in my life.

On consistency and hard work, I also now realize I had the opportunity to learn from a young teacher in my school, Lisa Cooke.  She was my volleyball coach and somehow was able to put up with my totally over the top energy levels (and most likely mood swings - we're talking high school here...).   I looked up to her and envied the size of her calf muscles.  She was healthy, strong, and tough -  and a great role model for me.   Lisa lent invaluable support to everything else that came after learning how to run and going to the races.  And yes, she is, like the other three, a runner.  We've run together at times, she cheered me on at local races often when she too was running, and to this day she is still wonderfully supportive of my efforts.  I don't take it for granted!

Now thinking back, I'm really lucky to have had these people in my corner since high school.  Whether I see them now or not, the lessons I've learned from these people are always with me every time I line up behind the tape for a race.  I've met many wonderful people since, I've had different coaches and mentors that have taught me all sorts of things, but these people are the four people who have been with me the longest.  I think I've always known this, but as life goes along and you get involved in the present, sometimes the past fades a bit.  As I was running along that road, with the memories of runner's silhouettes across the field, all of this came flooding back into my mind.  And as I was busy stuck in the moment of feeling badly for myself, sneezing so violently that I hoped I didn't twist my ankle while running, I was suddenly redirected to something much more important.

Running is often measured and put down in the record books as times, wins, losses, events.  When we narrow down on a target race it's boiled down to the essentials - this is your pace, these are your shoes, that is the course.  I feel very lucky to have had the opportunity, and the time, to reflect a little deeper and remember the people who have really taught me the essentials, and you can bet that those will be coming to the race with me next Sunday, May 1st.

There are a lot of people running a race on May 1st.  I hope they have the chance to remember what got them there, when they toe the line.

Good luck and run with heart.

set adrift on memory bliss

Well, it's that time of year.  Christmas for runners.


Boston.


One year ago I was getting ready to board the big bird and fly to Boston to run the marathon.  Now, as people get ready to depart and newsy bulletins rule the interweb, I can't help thinking about Boston this week.


Bill Rogers said, "The marathon can humble you".  Simple.  True.  I agree.


Anyone who knew me last year may have already read this race report.  It's long & colourful, and although slightly out of date, this race is really timeless.  Maybe it will give someone inspiration on their way to Hopkinton, or right to the guts of the race on Boylston.  Who knows.  


I have a lot of medals on my wall (most of them "Finisher" medals, don't get your knickers in a knot..) but the blue and yellow one means a lot to me.  I am learning that faster times do not equate a greater sense of pride or satisfaction.  The race is what you make it.  This race meant a lot to me, and I think it is deserving of a race report re-post.


Read on, & grab a snack.  This ain't no short story kids.

April 20, 2010


Hi everyone,
 One big storybook for everyone to read!  If you want....you certainly don't have to.  I promise it will take less time to read this than it did for me to finish the race.  I'll cut and paste it below but if you don't want to read it - the important thing is it was awesome, I ran a PB @ 3:20:10, and I was able to work hard with amazing support!

Here's a recap of the race ( I am still tired & on holiday so hope this makes some sense):

The day started with an early 4:35 wake up, drink 2 small cups coffee and a dry bagel.  Looked out the window - not a cloud in the sky.  Huge relief as it had been cold, stormy, and near snowing the past couple of days.  Good sign #1.  

 I had packed and triple checked everything the night before so fairly confident I had everything.  Chip on shoe, number already pinned to shirt, bag with number, wearing shorts, shirt and had shoes in bag so was ready to take a quick cab to the T (subway).  Wonderful Boston cabbie, pointed out to me that my # 9632 was a good one because 3 x 32=96.  He said he'd go buy a lottery ticked that day with that number.  Good sign #2.  Shawn woke up early and came with me all the way to the buses - what a guy.  Organized all the bags and transport and crazy subway riding and made me able to just think about running - awesome!

Slowly as we got closer and closer to the downtown, more and more yellow bagged runners got on the T.  When we got to Boylston Station, and walked up the stairs it was like a Return of the Zombie Runner movie.  Every one was walking in droves, quite truly 10's of thousands to get the school buses to Hopkinton.  It was so well organized.  I waited maybe 5 minutes, got on a bus, and we were off on what seemed like the longest bus ride in history.  Cool though to be bombing down the I-95 in a 10+ bus convoy at 100+km an hour.  I started to get nervous, so I ate a banana, put on the ipod and tried to relax.  

We got there about an hour or so later from leaving downtown, got directly off the bus to pee (waited in line for a while).  It was chilly out, but sunny, so just bundled up in everything I had.  The Athletes Village was crazy - two football fields with undercover tents (not needed really) and various tents with coffee, gatorade, water, bagels, powerbars.  Tons of other sponsors but this was not the time to be spending extra time on my feet.  Grabbed 2 cups gatorade & 1 powerbar (honey nut is actually not so revolting a powerbar), drank, ate and lay down on my newspaper filled garbage bags.  It was sunny and you could feel it on your face - so nice!  People were milling around like cows on Red Bull.  I waited and waited and eventually succumbed to the portapotty lines, came back, put on compression socks, put on arm sleeves, put on shoes, and then it was time to march up to the baggage buses before heading to the start line.  The 2 hours in the village went so fast.  No complaints there.  I would have been complaining had it been raining.  Yuck.  But it wasn't.  Yay.

Dropped bag at bus, put on nice garbage bag top to keep wind away - at this point it was super windy and making me a little nervous.  Visited a mostly male pee stop off the side of the road on the way down the to the start.  As one guy pointed out as I was returning back to the road, "Awesome - co-ed bathrooms!".  I smiled and kept running.  You walk 0.7 of a mile (seems long) and then you're at the bottom of an uphill road with corrals.  I was seeded in the 9th corral (#9632) and jammed in there, again, very much like a cow.  But people were mooing and volunteers were laughing and it was funny.  People were nervous - you could just feel a buzz.  It was starting to feel really warm at this point and I could already ditch my throw away shirt as we walked to the top of the hill.  The gun went off and our line started moving - I think it was about 10 minutes until i got to the start line.

The start: was crowded.  And the first mile opens with a 8% grade downhill.  I'd been reading about this course for weeks (I think I knew it better than Victoria before I had even run the course) and knew what was coming so I just held back and tried to enjoy everything around us.  I could say it a million times but it would get repetitive - the crowds here are unbelievable - it takes running to a whole new level to be a part of it here.   I couldn't get over it - especially when I got to Heartbreak Hill - but I'll get there in a minute.

I can't remember all the names of the towns but I remember most miles.  I chose to pace by miles, which was new for me but I now know I like it better (there are less of them, for a start).  It was hard to keep consistent splits (my plan of 7:38 min/miles), as the downhills would come I'd have a 7:22 then a 7:48 (and I was trying to run with quick turnover, short strides to save my legs on the downhill).  You come down some amazing # of feet on the 1/2 half of the marathon so I was trying to conserve.  

Somewhere along the first half I saw Santa Claus (not bonking at this point I'm sure), and not too long after, a very flirty transvestite (cowgirl, riding a horse - not bonking at this point either).   Then it was Wellsley College - an amazing amount of super attractive girls pleading with runners to kiss them.  You couldn't not watch the guys with huge smiles on their faces as they tried to kiss and run.  There was this huge surge of energy after this leading up and into Wellsley itself, the half way point and a huge crowd of screaming spectators cheering you on.  It was funny not to turn around at the half way point, nice actually to just keep going.

The 3 compliments I received in this race were:
1. Girl holding sign over her head that read "DRUNK": shouted militantly at me, "GO 9632, 9632, 9632!" (in loud low woman voice)
2. Man coming out of aid station beside me, "You spit like a man".  Still drinking I gave him the thumbs up and then replied, "Well trained", which is sort of a lie - no one taught me to spit.  Then I spat again and ran past him.  He was really encouraged by my abilities, and no lie it was motivating.  
3. Although I didn't know it was directed at me at first, I must have passed some man in the last 4 miles who liked my pace, because he shouted "Great running white".  I was a bit bonky at this point and it took me a while to realize I was wearing nearly all white.  Thanks guy.  Now hopefully this wasn't a shot at my compression socks, which I have received before from nerds on bikes in West Van.  "Hey nice socks".  Who insults a runner girl, honestly?  


Anyways....

I was feeling pretty good - hit a 1:39:50 half marathon split and was happy with my time.  Splits still were uneven due to ups and downs but whenever I hit a couple of straight miles my times were close to what I wanted, maybe even a little faster by a few seconds, but I figured I would lose those back in the hills.  I still felt good, quite hydrated, on top of nutrition.  They had fluid stations at every mile, which was really nice and made a big difference, especially in the last 4 miles.  I started to tell myself little stories about how much I liked running up hills.  Really, I was excited to do it.  If I can do nothing else, I can run hills.  I have the hamstrings to prove it.  Thank you soccer.

So just kept pushing on and made my way over what I thought was the first Newton hill but when I made the famous right hand turn into Newton I realized I had just gone over the I-95 - it was a BIG overpass.  So, going right, into Newton, Hill #1.  Nice hill, lots of fans (over 500,000 fans on the course that day) and up and over in not too long.  Relief, longer hill but gentle grade.  Hills # 2 and #3 were sharper.  I then encountered one of my favorite spots in the race.  Where the fast guys start bonking (sorry guys).  I feel for them and then I feel better for myself because I feel stronger.  It's wrong, I know but it gives me a boost.  So I just kept going up, fuelled fuelled fuelled.  It was getting harder to drink but I was getting thirstier.  

Heartbreak Hill.  Honestly.  I get it now.  It really could be a Heartbreaker.  You approach it, and you watch it curve up fairly steeply and out of your sight.  Barf.  But so many people on the sides of the roads with cowbells screaming at you and you just can't stop (they had signs, "Don't stop, people are watching you").  You just go.  Short quick strides and lifting your shoulders up and looking ahead and passing TONS of people on your way.  Boston College also coincides with this location and the college boys and girls were out in full form, cheering like champions, drinking like champions, and it was awesome.  Little kids constantly line the roads with orange slices or water cups or signs that tell their Daddy to keep running.  Shawn was here but I didn't see him - I sort of had tunnel vision - but he managed to get a clip of me running up the hill - I haven't over analyzed that one yet.  You are almost at the top and people are just going nuts and you start going a bit faster and then you realize you're there and it is truly awesome.  Getting that injection of pride at mile 21 ish is so motivational.  I managed about 7:45-7:50 mile splits on the hills - I was happy!  Now, you have to go downhill....

It is steep!  To try to avoid smashing my thighs into kibbles n' bits, I kept my turnover quick.  I definitely took charity water from a lovely woman with bottles drank two big gulps and poured some on my head (it was probably about 14 deg outside, perfect weather, occasional head or cross-wind) to cool down after running the hills.  Felt amazing.  Love water.  Decided I couldn't stomach more gels but knew there were lots of stations with gatorade for sugars.  Love 1 mile aid stations.  You go down and down and down, make a big left turn at Cleveland Circle, and now you on on the outskirts of the Boston subway line, and you start running to town.  

As you come off the left line you see a beautiful old church - a big one - and it helped to see something that pretty at this point.  I was just focusing on trying to keep from slowing down.  I almost didn't want to look at my split at the 23 mile mark - but I was still on pace (I am always falling off pace at this point, feeling a little discouraged) and wanted to keep it that way.  I went through a barrage of positive thoughts in my head, just continued to repeat them and make myself believe them and get through the rolling hills that the course throws in at the end (going up any more hills, even small ones, took guts at this point, and there were at least 4 seemingly big lumps to run up and over.

  Between miles 23 and 26 I passed an amazing amount of people, a slow steady stream.  I didn't even pay that much attention, just needed to find a relatively clean line to get through without slipping on a billion paper cups at an aid station.  I started to get little twinges in my calves at about mile 24, reminding me I had run out of a suitable supply of electrolytes.  So I kept my stride short, and kept turning over as quickly as I could.  Swinging arms became a good distraction for a while.  I also counted steps to 100 at one point to distract myself from an onset of pain.  That was about mile 24.5.  Then you see the Fenway CITGO sign, run up and over the overpass of the Mass Pike (I walked over this before and it was no big deal - not the case now).  You did not hear the Red Sox fans cheering because they lost 8-2.  Sorry socks.  But thousands of fans were cheering for runners!

As you run down Commonwealth Ave there are people everywhere, there are cops lining the other side of the course, you honest to god feel like a rockstar (well, a rockstar in pain, but aren't they all....?).  It's deafening.  And you're not even done yet.  You have one brief respite where you go down under a ramp and it's quiet for about 30 seconds.  And it was so peaceful, then you run back up (up, ugh) and back onto the street and then you're at this famous point, "Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston" and you're about a half mile to the finish.  I stopped looking at my watch but figured I had a shot at a PB, and a shot at 3:20, the time I wanted.  I turned up Hereford and then a big left onto Boylston and it's an amazing sight - the finish line is still about 600 ish metres away but you see crowds stacked 10-15 deep and you see a blue banner with yellow and you're really happy.  I gave it all I had without losing control of my calves and just kept watching the sign get bigger and bigger. 

 I don't remember the bleachers at the finish line, but I did put my hands up (difficult task at this point) and that was it!  I had finished.  I was so happy.  Even happier when I checked my watch and realized I had PB'd.  I had got 3:20:10.  I felt more emotional at this point than I have ever felt at a race before.  I was pretty close to tears but tried not to cry because I didn't want to get sent to the medical tent.  I just tried to keep walking.  I could tell my legs were going to feel this later.  But people all around congratulating each other.  I talked to a nice man from Ottawa and he was happy and I was happy and we made our way to the space blankets, the medals, the gatorade, the lunchboxes and finally out to the baggage buses.  Again, SO well organized.  If the Boston organization ran Canadian Government....

 It took a couple text messages back and forth but Shawn came and found me, cold and bonky at the family meeting station.  Thank god it was still sunny, making it easier to stand around (or shuffle around).  Then we were off - picked up our bags at the Taj Boston and changed into dry clothes, and we were off to the subway, massively jammed packed but eventually we made it to the trains, to this lovely B&B in Rockford, Cape Ann, MA about an hour later.  

 Able to shower quickly to rinse gatorade residue off my sticky legs, the very nice Howard of our Inn drove us to the Fish Shack (and picked us up).  I had a delicious lobster roll and was just totally on cloud nine.  And that's that.  Bed.  Slept like a champ.

 So this is more novel than note but hopefully for anyone who wanted to know about it, I wrote down as much as I could remember right now.  This race was really a wonderful experience and I am so glad I did it.  This is an amazing city and the fans were the best.  People in this city are some of the friendliest people I have ever met.   

I love this town.

Fool's Half Marathon Race Report

Hills, hills, hills.!  I wonder if anyone has ever counted how many hills are on this course!  The Fool's Half Marathon was the setting for this year's BC 1/2 Marathon Championship, on April 3rd, 2011.  I had been looking forward to racing a half as I've been trying my best, but feeling slightly lost, on the recent 5 and 8 km races.  The race didn't go exactly as I expected, but I'm not complaining - I was very happy to finish in 3rd place overall!

The pre-amble:
We arrived in Gibsons on a sunny Saturday and got to explore the cute little town, find lunch, and drive along through Roberts Creek, Davis Bay,Sechelt, and up to Secret Cove - such charming little areas all along the way.  Picked up my race number at the ever well organized community centre package pick up area from friendly volunteers, and finally met up with our small contingent of VanRunning 1/2 marathoners for a delish dinner at the Gumboot Restaurant in Roberts Creek.  Yum.

I would say, the downside of sleeping in your Westfalia would be that sometimes you park in an area where local youth decide to party all night (yes, all night) and drive their trucks (BIG trucks) back and forth (doing burnouts each time) right behind your van on a gravel road.  Unfortunate for us, but that's just life.  I think I may have slept a good, um, 3 hours?  Not consecutive hours, mind you.  I was also slightly scared these youth could crash right into our van.  So, generally sub-optimal conditions but not being too stressed about the race, I just shrugged it off and got on with things Sunday morning.

So, a short drive into town, a Tim Hortons coffee to reunite with my east coast roots (I don't think I've had a coffee from Tim Hortons since 2004) and some quiet time (finally) in the Van reading magazines and eating bananas while Shawn got a little extra sleep.  I encouraged him to just leave after the race start and go straight to Davis Bay to get some more sleep.  It's hard enough being a supporter, let alone with no sleep and an early morning wake up.  Such a trooper.

I was hanging around the race start when fellow racer Amy introduced herself to me - this was so nice!  You run with people all the time but never really know them.  So it was great to say hello to her, and as we've been coming into the finish line relatively close to each other (her first, me after) we knew we were aiming for similar times.  This was a nice reminder when we saw a few women shoot out in front of us that we were pretty confident we could be faster than.  It's sometimes hard on your own, and you second guess yourself, but when there's evidence right beside you, you feel a bit better about your race plan.

So gun was off and compression socks starting flying down Park road.  A nice change from the last time I ran the course, the start is not uphill, but that makes for some very keen starts by some racers - it's a long race and Amy and I ran together for the first 7km of the course, and commented on how it was fun to sort of sit back and watch what goes on in the lead group for the first part of the race.

I however, dropped off and Amy owned the downhills once we got to about 7km - way to go!  I wasn't quite feeling it and stuck to my rhythm for the Roberts Creek rollercoaster section of the course, about another ~6k or so.  When we had started, there's always such a flurry of people at the front, and I was able to spot one girl who I didn't know, and a few other women I recognized, but once I was on the middle section I really wasn't too sure how many women were in front of me.  So, running my own race, I just slowly (felt like glacially) made my way along the lower part of the course wishing I was feeling fresher, realizing that was an ever diminishing pipe dream, and just trying to be positive about what I had on the day.

Then the uphill section.  I love this course because it's technical, it's challenging, and it makes you be thankful for the flats.  There is very little flat section running in this course, except for a little bit at the beginning, and it's definitely flat for the last 1-2 km.  After getting up the last big hill on Marlene road, I was ready to refocus and get into the last 5km.  It's still not flat once you're at the top of the last big hill, but it's flat enough, and with it comes a thundering downhill (that has subsequently punched up my quads) and it's a fast flat or slightly downhill cruise to Davis Bay.

At the top of the hill, I had only 2 women in my sight and they were further away than I wanted them to be, so, cranking up the pace a bit, I was happy to find that I had a little saved in the tank (note to self - running your 'own' race & rhythm has its benefits) and I just put my head down and started working.  With the first pass, I really didn't want the girl to come back and she was running quite well and was not super easy to pass - so as we aproached the big downhill section I just let LOOSE and did my best attempt at fast downhill running while avoiding something resembling the cheese rolling competition.
Watch the video - there's even a big uphill - so maybe this half marathon is good training for this competition:
Gloucestershire Cheese Rolling
 (really, you have to watch this....)

So now I was approaching the bottom of the hill and there was only one woman left and a whole lot of no man's land - big gaps between runners and really no one in front of her for a long time.  A spectator told the woman in front of me she was 4th, then told me I was 5th.  I watched this woman running for a long time and really it looked like she was comfortably running along so I was a bit nervous to pass.  But I did what I've been having the hardest time doing in racing so far, getting up the guts to pass people (because the ego side of me does not like to be passed back - but really, who does?).

I just told myself I could do it and went for it.  I ran a hard km and then looked back (I hate looking back and almost never do) just before going over the bridge (approx 400m left) and there was no one on my shoulder - phew!  That did not slow me down though as I still was running with enough fear to stay in top gear all the way to the line.  There was nobody else around, no one in front and it was me alone all the way to the line - and because the path was so clear, I finally paid attention to the race announcer, especially when he said I was the 3rd place finisher!  Wicked!  I had done that last fight to the line, in my head, for 4th, and I was quite proud of that.  So 3rd was icing on the cake!  Results here.

In the end, all things turned out smiles!  I did not PB, but knew that wouldn't happen from about 10km on, so no distress there.  My VanRunning teammates all did though - so congrats to them - what a tricky course to do it on too!  Great work on their part.  In the end, the women's race was quite strung out, with the young (I can say it because I'm OLD now compared to her :) girl (Keddi-Anne) from the Interior taking first,  in 1:18 something and Amy taking a solid second in 1:22 something.  My friend Rachel ran her 1st half marathon on this course and did great!  Perhaps one of the harder ones to pick but she'll love other (easier) courses when she does another one!

And it was nice to see a lot of familiar faces and some of the triathlete crew out there working hard as well - great job guys!  It takes a little extra effort to get to this race, but I highly recommend doing it - it's got a great feel, a step away from the flashy-flashy big races and a great hometown feel, more like racing where I started running back home (on the island).  Now only if BC ferries could have extended their BC Sport partnership to help with fares....a girl can dream.

Happy enough with my 1:24 something, I was more happy with my beautiful AG winners mug (I drink a lot of liquids) and a little bit of prize cash (thank you Fool's Half & thank you BC Athletics!).  I ate my face off in yogurt (but only after I let everybody else get in there and get some :) so thanks also to the food sponsors who provided much needed warm drinks and great post race food.

After the race, when the stiffness kicks in, we dawdled around Roberts Creek and Gibsons before deciding that with less than ideal weather, it might be nice to sleep in our own bed (and not in a hell on wheels parking lot?), so we skipped back on the last ferry home.  And yes, it was heavenly to sleep in a real bed, not that I don't love our little home on wheels, but when you're sore, extra space and more cushioning in bed is a great thing.  I slept 12 straight hours and woke up feeling much, much more rested than the night before.  If only BC Athletics ranked sleep times too....I have no doubts in my abilities there.

Back at home and now back to telling myself I am both a runner and triathlete.  It took all the energy I could round up to get to the pool and do an easy swim.  Doesn't help that the weather has taken a nose dive and it's chilled significantly.  A few easier days on the schedule and a return to the land of marathon training in not too long.

The next race up is the Vancouver Sun Run - should be exciting!  I am actually quite excited to run a 10km, my oldest most familiar distance (I have run more 10ks than any other distance) but I now get to do it with an actual pace goal and am quite confident that I will finally break the 40 min mark, something I had tried for the last 2-3 years before and never reached.  That will be fun - and I really hope I'm not jinxing myself here.  Unless I fall off one of the bridges or reach a book in the portapotty, I am confident I can do it.  It will also be the BC 10km Championship - and it is going to be COMpetitive!  Can't wait!

The A race looms now only being less than 4 weeks away.  Talk about competitive.  I picked a great year to race with speedy women.  From what I've read, there will be a fair amount of American women running Eugene gunning to qualify for the Olympic Trials.  I think that means sub 2:45 or 2:46, not entirely sure, but it means FAST.  Definitely good luck to them, but I will be gunning to chase from a distance :)

Weather is not confidence building so it's time to bottle up, snack up, and load up a movie to watch on the bike trainer.  I can't believe I never used one of these last year while training for Ironman, but I'm sure glad I do now.  I would also really like to be biking outside, but I would also not like to crash my bike on a slick road either.  My 22 degree house helps me pretend warm temps are coming.

So here's to the next 2 hours of watching Hilary Swank bash and get bashed in Million Dollar Baby.  I'm hoping it will give me more incentive to do push ups (although today's daily total is 60, not bad).

April showers bring May flowers?  I'm getting a little sick of "this month weather sucks but next will be better talk" but I have no other options than to remain positive.  I had a dream I biked in shorts and a jersey last night....something to look forward to.  I will just have to continue creating my own happiness, usually coming in the form of a cookie ;)  No complaints about the sun on the Sunshine Coast though - who could complain about these views?

Happy training and for anyone interested in joining a running group, check out VanRunning - existing both in Vancouver and Vancouver to the North for details of new clinics coming up this spring/summer.

VanRunning