Courage waiting to be summoned

Someone once said that if you find yourself needing courage, that means that you must be in an extraordinary circumstance at that moment. (Thank you, http://www.quirkyredliner.blogspot.com/.)

No one needs courage while brushing his or her teeth, brewing coffee or taking the dogs for a walk. Though, of course, if you would see the size of my dogs, you might suppose that I would, indeed, need it.

No, courage isn't particularly an everyday-use item. It is only useful in the face of something formidable, be it dealing with another person, taking on a new challenge or finishing a triathlon for the first time, especially when you started with zero experience.

Even though Sunday's race was my first Olympic distance triathlon (.6-mile swim, 25-mile bike, 6-mile run), I'd been beating myself up for not being stronger and faster to make the swim and bike cut-offs for the half-iron distance race that same day.

Being so slow on the swim would cramp into the bike time, leaving me with needing almost another hour on the bike. Crunching the numbers meant that - at the end of the day - I just wasn't ready. If I were within striking distance, I would have pushed hard, using my body's adrenaline as an ally...but I wasn't.

Though there was no disputing these hard, rational numbers, the emotional part of me wondered if I just wasn't mustering enough courage. Did I still have the fire in the belly? I wouldn't need to wonder much longer.

The wind was fierce on this very overcast morning; the air temperature chilly enough to make you long for the water's warmth. Every fierce chop of the gray water was sending a visible message to those of us on the shoreline: You'd better bring your best.

A couple hundred yards into my swim, even after getting into my groove, I became frightened for my life. (Check out this fellow participant's post about it at www.tridiesel.blogspot.com/2009/09/race-report.html.)

The chop was destroying me with every encounter.

I caught the attention of a boat close by and flagged the folks on there. A nice guy, Rick, jumped into the water in his wetsuit, bringing a flotation device. I told him I was seriously considering calling it quits, but as those words parted my lips, I realized how badly I wanted to finish, how I knew I could finish, how I did not want this to be the story to come from my day.

I thanked Rick, put my head back in the water and just kept swimming. Though I had to swim stronger to fight the current, I ended up having a better than expected swim time given my long pause in the beginning.

Just because I was done with the swim did not mean that the wind was done with me. It continued to beat me down on the bike, creating headwinds that rivaled those on this course last year during Landicane Ike. When I would begin to slow down, I would mutter to myself, "Every second counts, Lora!" and continued to push harder.

Less than a half-mile on the run, my legs heavy from the bike, I thought, "Oh, my gosh! How in the world am I going to run six miles? That's so far away!" I just focused on taking it one step at a time, trusting that everything would fall into place. It did.

As I got to the finish line, I heard a girl's voice come up from behind me. "Hey, let's do this. Let's finish strong," she said. We started speeding up some together. She went on to tell me that she'd been chasing me for two miles.

As we got even closer to the finish line, I was giving it everything I had, but I puttered out and she beat me. That's okay, though, for two reasons: 1) she wasn't in my race and 2) if I had not have sprinted that hard, I would be one rank lower overall because I beat the person behind me by two seconds. (Every second counts!)

I came in 119/128 overall and 4/4 in my age group. I really thought I would come in dead last, so I'm very pleased with my results.

Though I had called my own courage into question, even in the face of indisputable facts, conquering that swim and finishing that race made me realize that courage is never as out of reach as we usually think.

Race day doesn't care about you

It was past time. Way past time.

I was heading out for my first - and long overdue - 50-mile bike the other Sunday. The temperature was in the mid nineties, and it seemed to be competing with the humidity for first place.

Gary and I were at my sister-in-law's visiting with the family after church. Nearly everyone was taking advantage of the pool's refreshing powers, but I needed to leave early to head out for my ride.

As I began to work my way around the patio saying my goodbyes, telling them why I needed to leave early, everyone insisted that I should be swimming instead and thought I was crazy for taking on such a task.

Swimming just might have been the wiser decision, but I had very few weeks left before my next tri to put-out some good bike mileage. I, quite simply, had not a smidgen of room to care what the weather was that day...because Race Day won't be caring about me.

Race Day doesn't care that I either am or am not prepared for the brutality with which it might treat me. It's going to be what it's going to be, in all of its limitless characters and shades, regardless of what, where or who I am at the time.

I thought of this on my next ride, a 30-miler heading south of town on a boring, overcast afternoon. I was feeling quite zippy for the first half of the ride. The moment I turned around to come home I immediately knew why. I'd had the fortune of a tailwind, that was now, due to the simple turning of my bike 180-degrees around, my enemy.

I thought, more than once, that I wish that I had been closer to home because I'd just call it quits. Then I was grateful that home was 15 miles away, because I was left with no choice but to toughen it out...and to toughen-up.

My next tri is on the same course as my second tri from last year where the headwinds became so brutal, according to a story a friend in the tri club told me yesterday, a several-time Kona qualifier called it quits. Of course, we were experiencing the remnants of Hurricane Ike, now also known as Landicane Ike, but that particular course, regardless of landicanes, is prone to headwinds.

So, here's to going out of your way to look for the unusual training day, because Race Day could care less about you, but you'd better be caring about it.

25 percent is my new favorite number

I had been dreaming about this day for one year. Ever since I crossed the finish line of my first tri June 28, 2008, I've been itching to return with a much-improved version of myself and floor it.

Mission accomplished.

Back at the scene of that life-changing day one year later, the distances were the same, but some things were different. From the yawning sun's color shimmering on the little waves along the lake, to the confidence that energized my soul, this was a day that would affirm that I don't just compete in triathlons, but that being a triathlete is just who I am.

Now, out with my cheesy melodrama and on with the stats.

Last year I came in 207/217 overall, 40/42 in my age group and finished the .25-mile swim, 12-mile bike and 2-mile run in 1 hour and 57 minutes. The swim took me 27 minutes, the bike 1 hour and the run 24 minutes.

This year I came in 166/396 overall, 28/61 in my age group and finished in 1 hour and 25 minutes. The swim took me 15 minutes, the bike 45 minutes and the run 21 minutes.

My swim and bike times were pretty much dead-on with what I'd expected, but my run was disappointing. I can easily drop below a 9-minute mile on a 2-mile run, so I remain completely perplexed by what happened. However, my overall goal was to come in under 1 hour and 30 minutes and I did.

So, when you look at the overall times from last year to this year, approximately, I took 25 percent off my time. What an incredible PR for me and what a confidence booster as I continue on with my half-ironman training.

Wait. I'm doing a half-ironman? Uh, gotta go!

I went to a tri Sunday...as a volunteer

A friend of mine on Beginner Triathlete volunteered at a tri last year and she inspired me to consider doing the same.

So, I picked a tri that was early-on in the season that I knew there would be no way I'd race because the water would be cold, contacted the racing company and signed-up.

It was the Deer Creek Tri and Du and it's the same course where my half iron distance race will be in September, so I thought it couldn't hurt to visit the site again.

I was there at 6:00 a.m. and the volunteer coordinator put me in charge - with two other ladies - of registration. I thought they might have more seasoned volunteers run that part, but after taking care of the first person, I realized it was a piece of cake...and I had a blast doing it!

I loved greeting sleepy-headed people with a warm smile and a hello, and wishing them the best as I handed them their race packets. I especially loved seeing the excitement in a participant's face when they would tell me this was their first race - and I loved giving them some extra encouragement as I pointed to where they'd get their timing chip and body markings.

The lines were really long and it took us exactly two hours to get everyone signed-in. However, there were approximately 500 participants and we actually spent about 30 seconds with each person, so I thought it went very fast.

After that, we started setting up the post-race food tables and I pretty much helped to manage that until noon when we were dismissed. It was great talking with folks about how they thought their race went, and to just talk about tris in general without the stress of having just raced myself.

I always thank the volunteers, especially on the course. However, as a volunteer, you're so busy you forget that there will be folks who will stop and thank you, so that was always a pleasant surprise when someone did.

It ended-up being a very fun day and - if I wasn't busy racing these events - I would be volunteering instead.

Half iron distance training - so far

I'm on week four out of 22 of my half iron distance training. The first two weeks went really well. I managed to meet all of my requirements and was having a good time doing so.

Week three came along, and I managed to injure my knees. I attribute this injury to:

1) running slowly to meet the requirements for low RPE runs really messed with my ChiRunning form,
2) running with the dogs, again, messed with said running form,
3) possibly needing a new pair of running shoes as a couple areas of my feet are tender and

4) pushing really, really hard off the pool wall.

So, I've taken the last week off of running and this has helped some in easing the physical pain. It has, however, left me frustrated and a little despondent. Week two of this and I've already got an injury? Yeesh!

Now, the good news. This past weekend, I had an opportunity to take a total break and travel to Erie, PA. I thought traveling would be a nice reprieve from my training blues. I can't run but I can bike, so I loaded-up my two-wheeler into the SUV.

I debated on whether or not to bring it. Would it be too much trouble? Would I have time to ride it? If I had time, would I even ride it?

I am so glad that I brought it along! I had about a 20-mile, relaxing ride on a beautiful Saturday afternoon on the beach. It was dead flat and completely enjoyable!

The smell of the water, the slapping of the choppy blue waves, the strong wind off the shoreline and the energy from a couple hundred other bikers and runners really rejuvenated my spirits.

So, I'm back home now. I still think I need to take another week off from running, so I'm going to really focus on the bike and the swim.

Though this injury's slowed me down, I'm still working toward that finish line come September 27.