Boston and Texas

The events of the last week are heartbreaking - first Boston, then West - both equally terrifying and personal.  Personal because after the titles of mother and wife, I also carry the label of firefighter... athlete... paramedic... 

At first I had something to do: make sure my entire team and their loved ones were all right.  In the chaos that ensued after the explosions in Boston, it took some time. So we waited...  And we talked...  And we started the healing process.

Then, before we could begin to really understand what had happened in Boston, another tragedy, this one much closer to home for me.

When I first read that email "explosion,  firefighters were onscene when it happened" my heart went cold. Over the next several hours, we began to find out the staggering enormity of the event, and how hard the first responder community had been hit.

Texas is a big state,  but as a firefighter, it's a very small world.  Everyone knows everyone or one of their friends in the fire service. We feel each loss personally.

I spent the next day getting involved in small ways from a distance.

It wasn't until Saturday that I found out that the Westboro Baptist Church had announced on twitter that they were planning on being at the funerals here in Texas.  All I could think was " Oh no you don't.  Not my family!"

That's probably when all the emotions, all the stress, all the activity, and the grief of the past week overflowed.

Now, if you'll excuse me for a moment, to wax spiritual... 
I firmly believe that when I stand before my maker, I will be left with two things: the intent of my actions while during my life, and the results of my actions. Not results as in I did well in a race.  Results as in how I affected people, how I made them feel.
I pray that on the day the people who picket funerals meet their maker, they feel the anguish - the horror, hurt and helplessness -that they have caused in other. That is Hell.  An eternity of perfect knowledge of the pain caused to others.

Today I saw a picture of Bostonians blocking the roads to anyone that would cause more pain to those who have lost, and I applaud you, Boston.

Texas - we just finished one awful, traumatic week. But I think we will find strength in our brotherhood to shelter those who have lost from even more pain.

A few observations from this week...
The bombings in Boston were aimed at spectators and runners.  But runners and their families, especially marathoners, and most especially those at Boston  know how to rise from the dark places.

We saw some absolutely amazing people rise above the call of being human: several people leapt into action to save a another's life, a police officer brought a family in Boston milk when the city was on lockdown, a city banded together to protect their own. 

And while there were still people making dumb statements on social media, or insulting police or first responders, many people got a glimpse via social media into a world that isn't all glory.

But there will always be a need for fire and police, just as there will always be a need for communities to come together in times of tragedy.

And there's one more label I should add to the ones I listed at the beginning of this post- American. This week has brought out the best in Americans in reacting to immeasurable challenges.

Meanest Mommy EVAR 2013

I'm proud to announce that I've been nominated for the Meanest Mommy *sniffle* EVAR Award for 2013.

The whole family is suffering the effects of a cold and the preceding grocery store trip did little to improve our moods.

I'd seen the pictures on the internet of the kids in their "We Will Get Along" Shirts.  Unfortunately my kids are pretty different in height, so even my husband's biggest shirt didn't work out safely.

So...  I improvised.  I let them know that they had to get along for five minutes before I'd set them free, and if they argued or if I heard anyone crying, I'd restart the clock.

See the belt around them?

I'm honored to be nominated by BOTH my children.  I believe it means that I'm getting this parenting thing right.  I mean, without the parenting manual and all.  I'll make sure and remember to mention my mother when I write my acceptance speech - she did wish that I would have one just like me someday.  Maybe I'll pass that along to my kids too.

That woman at the gym...

With the weather getting colder, I tend to do more of my workouts in the gym, or at the house on my trainer.  I'm not a fan of being cold.

But I'm also a parent AND an athlete.  Which means that some of my workouts happen on a treadmill or a trainer out of necessity.  But if you're a parent, you know that bathroom time is more valuable than all water in Texas right now.

So, basically, I'm that woman at the gym that takes twenty or thirty minutes in the shower because I can.  Because I know that the daycare people (who are a gift from god in her infinite wisdom) can't find me won't look for me there, and there's no fighting outside the door, no coloring books and crayons being handed to you under the door, no kids raiding the pantry for snacks while you pee, and nothing getting broken the second you turn that lock.

You could call it hiding from the destroyer of worlds who is walking this earth as the damn cutest little boy I've ever seen.  And you could call it avoiding the independent little girl that is going to ignore what I tell her and do it her own way (which, I imagine is a product of my own "There isn't anything you can't do if you set your mind to it).  You could.

I call it maintaining my sanity.  It's the only way I get to wash my hair and my armpits without slipping on the floor out of the shower to breakup the "MOMMY (S)HE STOLE MY TOY/SNACK/UNDERWEAR!" that comes about 3.2 nanoseconds after I step into that glorious hot water.

I honestly can't figure out how a 45 minute run on a treadmill turns into a two hour visit to the gym, but I come out of there with a good workout and my ability to smile while the three year old throws a tantrum because the six year old has her fingers in her ears and isn't listening to him but is yelling because he is crying.  Seriously, I laugh at that crap because it's damn funny even if it frustrates the living hell out of me when it happens.  There isn't a whole lot you can do in public nowadays to discipline them except lean over and whisper in their ears about what's going to happen to them when they get home. 

But going to the gym and taking my time gives me that ability to maintain my calm.

I've just signed my youngest up for preschool, so in the fall, I'll have a half dozen hours a couple times a week without the hellspawn.  I'm not entirely sure what I'll do with myself, but I imagine I'll be able to get outside more to workout, and use my own shower more, rather than take all my nice shower products to the gym.  I imagine I'll get to shave my legs more than once a week.  I imagine that I'll get to see some of my friends again, go running or riding with my friends again, and I won't have to figure out what to do with the kids so I can do it.  And then, I'll be able to shower or pee without world war three starting outside the bathroom door.

Hmmm...

Ya know?  The three year old is almost always doing something that has me laughing, and the six year old is so curious about everything in the world that it's fun to learn with her.

I sure will miss them.

2012 in review...

2012.  Where do I begin?  This is likely to be a long post, so grab some popcorn and a comfy seat. 

This is part 2 of the last post.

I knew going into 2012 that I had something totally crazy that I was planning to do.  THE marathon.  I knew that it was likely to be one of the hardest things I've ever done, and I remembered from running my first marathon that everything was about perspective. 

So on a slight whim, I signed up for Bandera (50k).  I'd heard good things about this race.

Yeah.  About that.

Bandera stands as the most painful race I've ever done (for me).  Hills, cactus that I was holding my hands over my head to keep from getting stuck (because it was as tall as me), rocks, steep slopes, and trail running.  *Shudder* 

I know someday I'll do longer running races, but I'm not sure if I'm prepared for Bandera again.  But I accomplished what I set out to do.  I set out to learn to hurt.  I set out to find out how bad it could get, so come February and a marathon, I could put that hurt in perspective and keep going.

February rolled around, and I thought I was ready. Ten days before the marathon, I rolled my ankle and wound up with a sprain. But I wasn't going to be "the woman who WAS going to run a marathon in firefighting gear." So I sucked it up, buttercup, and did it.  I'd been watching the weather for weeks, and it promised to be a beautiful warm day.  Not a great day to be running in firefighting gear.  But, with the help of a random stranger from the internet (who is now a great friend, with a super awesome wife that puts pavement runners like me to shame on the trails), I finished.

I met some great people through that process.  A fellow blogger, and initially a member of the media (whom firefighters trust about as far as they can throw them) has become a good friend.  I definitely don't get out to ride with her as much as I should.

In March I was invited to join Team Firefighter, a non-profit group of firefighters, nationally based, that race and train for a cause.  These guys are all in different places in their athletic careers but they are all great guys that work hard, train hard, and help each other out.  I've found my place with them and look forward to seeing where the team goes from here.  There are some really amazing people on the team, experience in all levels, and passion for firefighting and racing.

I'd have to call January and February "perspective setting" months.  What followed was a whirlwind of "oh crap" moments and "I can't believe it."

March 17, I drove down to ride the Ironman Texas course to be familiar with it ahead of time.  I officially had my first "I-didn't-just-fall-over-because-I-didn't-unclip-fast-enough" wreck.  I took a concrete ledge wrong and got a pavement sandwich as a result.  At mile 3.  Of 100.  The next 97 miles were miserable, but I wasn't going to make the friend that I had driven three hours down with waste his day and the trip.  Keeping up was another story though, and it hurt my confidence.  Two days later I found myself getting my right side x-rayed to rule out any breaks.  I sprained my right shoulder, and bruised my right femur.  And left a small amount of skin on the pavement.

Two weeks later, I was racing Ironman Texas 70.3 in Galveston.  I almost bonked during the ride because I hadn't prepared appropriately and wasn't as familiar with my nutrition as I should be.  But the worst was that my hip started hurting during the ride, and every step on the run was painful.  I came away not having realized the effect that my wreck had on that race, and was pretty frustrated with the result, even though I did get a slightly better time for the distance.

I met someone at Galveston that has become a really great friend and mentor.  She's about a year or two ahead of me in racing, and in the same age group.   She's given me some really great advice, and been there when I've been clueless.

Finally, the injuries healed, just in time for Ironman Texas in the middle of May.  After everything that had happened during the Spring, it really did seem like a really long training day. A long training day that may have been mentally hard, but wasn't nearly as painful as some of what I'd done previously.

But I did run into Michelle again, and she put me in touch with her coach, Jeff, at Apex Endurance.

This is when the magic started happening.  Jeff agreed to coach me, and he started teaching me all the things that I'd been guessing at when I was coaching myself.  All of a sudden, I started learning the things I was capable of doing, rather than guess at what I might do, and I started to have confidence in myself.  I was learning how to pace better, what pace to run specific distances at where I could hold it for the entire distance, and most importantly, to trust myself.

Under his guidance, I started to see some big changes where I'd been nearly stagnant before.

Race after race I started to see major PR's.  Tri season culminated with a 3rd place AG win at a half iron distance race, and the last running race of 2012 was a half marathon with a 3rd place AG finish.   The last race is a well known race on the Austin circuit.

I've also completed my first stand alone bike race and swim race.

To really think about it, I'd have to break 2012 up into two parts.  The first, leading up to, and including Ironman Texas, and the second, beginning about a month after.

The time leading up to and including the Ironman taught me a lot about myself, about others, and about relationships.  I've met some really great people, online and in person.  People talk about the Ironman - and in training it's about the race, the race, the race.  But after the race, at some point, you realize it was the journey.  For me, the journey brought a group of kindred souls into my life.

After the Ironman...  I would say I've started to push my limits, but I haven't found those yet.  So instead, I'll say I'm pushing ME. 

I do have my husband and kids to thank for such a great year.  They've been patient with me and my crazy racing/training schedule, listened to me when I was trying to figure things out and needed to bounce things off of someone, and been my cheering section the whole time.  I can't imagine a cuter cheering section than my beautiful kids.

Best moment of the entire Ironman

2013 is a mystery. But I look forward to what this year will bring.

I remember when...

I've been thinking about this post for a while. It's the first part of a two post reflection on the last year.  2012 was a wild year for me, but success isn't anything more than just a finish line if you don't remember where you started.

So... In no particular order:

I remember seeing the picture of my fire chief on his desk from when he crossed an Ironman finish line.

I remember thinking, "Maybe I could do that."

I remember thinking, "I never want to do this again!"

I remember when three miles was a daunting task.  Texas heat and humidity were excuses.  Rain, cold weather, and darkness were good reasons not to go.

I remember when I went and just ran.  I didn't have any idea how to train, and I couldn't understand the notes on many of the training plans that I tried to use.  I just ran.

I remember when getting faster seemed impossible.

I remember when I didn't know how to carry water, didn't know anything about nutrition and finished so many of my runs weak, sick, and swearing I would never run again.

I remember running again.

I remember signing up for races and looking at the previous year's times to make sure I wouldn't be the last person across the line.

I remember hurting during my runs and afterward because I was wearing the shoes that I thought were pretty, rather than the ones that were right for me.

I remember when an hour run was my long run, not my usual training runs during the week.

I remember my very first race.

I remember running for health (well, 'cause I figured out that running meant I could eat more), running for stress relief, and running because I finally saw improvement.

I remember wanting so badly to win.

I remember finally placing for the first time in a small local race.

I remember realizing that it wasn't about winning.

I remember when my priorities changed.

I remember being so overcome with emotion that I might actually finish my first marathon.  And somewhere in that 26.2 miles I realized how great of analogy the marathon is for life. I also realized in that 26.2 miles that I was just beginning to learn who I might be and what I was capable of.

I remember telling my husband that I was never running a marathon again.

I remember letting go of expectations. And finding out that I was better that I'd been letting myself be. 

I remember finding myself out there.

I remember finding some great friends that teach me so much about life, the universe and everything. (42)

I remember being in dark places. During races, during training runs, during life. But I remember there isn't a dark place that a pair of sneakers can't help me get out of. 

I'm sure there's more.  I've finally gotten the kids (including the big one) to bed, and I'm typing this out on my phone.

But I look in the mirror sometimes and wonder who the athlete is that's standing in front of me.  Because I remember.

Thoughts on recent tragedy

I, along with millions of others, have struggled to understand something that doesn't make any sense after the shootings in Connecticut.  So many things don't make sense on this earth.

We heard about it in our cars and pulled over and cried or said prayers for the families involved.  We saw it on facebook or the news and desperately wanted to reach out and hold those people who had the best parts of their life ripped away from them.  Those of us who are parents of young children couldn't wait until we saw them again and hugged them tightly and for a long time, kids giggling and squirming, but not understanding the emotion.

Many have used this as a political platform to push agendas that don't have anything to do with what really happened, and to me that's sickening.  Who really wants to hear something akin to "I told you so!" when their hearts are hurting and their arms are empty.  My only political statement on the matter is this: 

Gun control is like birth control. It only works if you believe in it and practice it. And even then, sometimes things still slip through.
But no matter what you do, others around you will still be having babies.

Twenty tiny coffins will have to be buried.  Twenty.  That's so much bigger than many of us can imagine.  It makes your mind melt with the evil that something like that took.  My heart goes to the families involved, and the emergency responders that put the needs of a community first, at the same time wondering if their own children were going to walk out of that school.  It's hard to do your job while in tears, but they still did it.

I have hope for the world that my children will inherit when I look at the social media and see more stories about the people involved than the person that did this.  The stories of heroism and bravery outnumber everything else. I've avoided the news because the same isn't true for it.

In honor of the all the bright stars that will be shining in heaven rather than on earth, waiting for their family and friends when they cross that final finish line:

Charlotte Bacon, age 6
Daniel Barden, age 7
Olivia Engel, age 6
Josephine Gay, age 7
Ana M Marquez-Greene, age 6
Dylan Hockley, age 6
Madeleine F Hsu, age 6
Catherine V Hubbard, age 6
Chase Kowalski , age 7
Jesse Lewis, age 6
James Mattioli, age 6
Grace McDonnell, age 7
Emilie Parker, age 6
Jack Pinto, age 6
Noah Pozner, age 6
Caroline Previdi, age 6
Jessica Rekos, age 6
Avielle Richman, age 6
Benjamin Wheeler, age 6
Allison N Wyatt, age 6
Rachel Davino, age 29
Dawn Hochsprung, age 47
Anne Marie Murphy, age 52
Lauren Rousseau, age 30
Mary Sherlach, age 56
Victoria Soto, age 27

The Rules

I swiped this from Karbon Speed's Facebook page. This is meant as tongue in cheek humor. If you are offended by this, then you are definitely "that guy."

Enjoy!

#1. Not everyone thinks what you do is awesome. Most think you’re a bit nuts, and they’re right. Remember that at your next cocktail party.

#2. No race jerseys of races you haven’t raced in, especially if the distance is longer than you’ve been. T-shirts are exempt. If you roll up in an Ironman France jersey, be prepared to explain how you handled the Cole de I’Ecre.

#3. Only refer to courses/segments/people by their nicknames. Highway 19 is unacceptable. It’s called the Queen K, and Crowie owned it. And Macca before him. Don’t let this happen again. Pay ‘N Save Hill. Look it up.

#4. Training in rough conditions makes you tough. A little rain or heat won’t make you melt, buttercup.

#5. A reality check should be performed once per year. MIT is not going to test the effectiveness of brick workouts. The rolling resistance “expert” uses a 100 pound sac in his garage for testing. Not all wind tunnels can even record data at the slow speeds we ride. Not everything that glitters is gold.

#6. Gadgets are strongly encouraged. An old pair of shorts and some Keds are not our gig. You absolutely need every item that is out there. Afterall, we invented aerobars. If we stop with the gadgets, who the hell would cyclists copy?

#7. Feelings are for Oprah, use your data. If you own a heart rate monitor and/or a powermeter, yet train just by RPE, then you either don’t know how to use it or you’re embarrassed by what it’s telling you.

#8. If you’ve raced the distance, it counts. If you’ve trained the distance, it doesn’t. Nailing a training day is one thing, nailing a racing day is quite another. Please don’t confuse the two. Ironman/marathon/etc. only counts if you are in there mixing it up. I’m the heavyweight champion of the world if we don’t have to actually compete.

#9. The number of logos allowed on a race kit are equal to that of NASCAR. In other words, go nuts. Only Wimbledon and the ITU restrict logos to the point of communism.

#10. Ironman tattoos are perfectly acceptable. You just finished one of the toughest days of your life. A bit of ink is just fine. Don’t let douche bags rain on your accomplishment.

#11. No buckets. It’s doesn’t matter how well thought out your transition is, don’t bring a bucket unless you plan to paint parking lines on the concrete or are going fishing after the race.

#12. Shave. You’re representing a group of people generally regarded as some of the fittest in the world. It’s a hot, sweaty, sometimes muddy sport, that keeps clothes to a minimum. Hanging out all day with gorilla legs and a hairy back does not make you a good steward of the sport. Clean it up.

#13. Learn who the pros are. In this sport everyone likes to think they’re the next big deal. Do yourself a favor and learn the names of those who actually make a living at being a badass.

#14. Support the sponsors. They pay money so you can have a great time. Don’t spend 45 minutes picking their brain and then head to the ‘net so you can save 3 bucks. That will get you flogged.

#15. Exaggeration of training is perfectly fine. Just keep in mind that Rule #39 is still in effect at all times.

#16. Drinking and triathlon are first cousins. Embrace your first cousin. There’s a reason beer is offered at 9 am at the race. Because we love it. Science has actually shown that a buzz and runner’s high is very similar, and endurance athletes drink more than your average bear.

#17. It’s a transition area, not your hotel room. Spreading out all your stuff for transition beyond 1 small towel is not acceptable. 1 bag limit.

#18. White race kits are only allowed if you know your body well. Really well. If you’ve ever worried about poo leg on a long run, then white is not for you. Ladies, if you are expecting a visit from your “Aunt Flow” then white is not for you. I don’t think I need to say anymore.

#19. Qualifying for Kona and your local “wellness” or “anti aging” clinic do not go together. If by some coincidence you decide your wanker doesn’t work right the exact same time you’re trying to get to Kona, stop everything and look for a new sport. Getting HGH, Testosterone and EPO shots in the name of ‘aging’ or wiener health won’t fly here. There are sports where cheating seem to be acceptable like here and here, so try those sports. This isn’t one of em.

#20. This sport has a history, learn some it. If you don’t know who the Big Four are, unfamiliar with the ’82 Moss Crawl, or think the Ironwar has something to do with the Industrial Age, then you got some reading to do.

#21. No “trunks” in the pool. Look, we get it that you’re a little self conscious wearing a skin tight swimsuit. Get over it. I promise you that you will get 10X more comments trying to swim laps in basketball shorts than you will a jammer.

#22. It’s OK to hate swimming, but you still have to do it. It’s not OK to use your wetsuit as a life preserver. Learn to swim. If you don’t there’s a sport called duathlon just waiting for you.

#23. Learn to circle swim. You really don’t need the whole lane to yourself. Stay to the right.

#24. Complaining about the water makes you look like a sissy. This is a tough sport. The distances are tough, the conditions are tough and the people are tough. Whining that the water isn’t as clear as your last trip to Grand Cayman isn’t winning you any cool points there Nancy.

#25. Learn Flipturns. You can pick the person out racing in high-tops right away. You get the idea.

#26. Obey the law – Nothing gives us a worse reputation than someone blowing through a red light like he’s above it all. The law applies to vehicles. You’re on a vehicle. Don’t be a douche. Obey the law.

#27. Don’t ride with headphones. Save the Rocky Soundtrack for your run. Your ears are needed to help keep you alive on the bike. Plus, depending on your state, it’s illegal. See Rule #26

#28. Support yourself. Others should not be obligated to babysit you on your ride. Flat tires should not take a village to fix.

#29. No aero helmets in training. While you might ride a whopping .2 mph faster, you will look like an absolute dork.

#30. Save the race wheels for the race. Yes, the bike does look cooler with $2,000 wheels, but your wallet will be thinner when a pot hole or rock crack that carbon. Leave some sizzle for the race.

#31. Learn to ride in a group. Wobbling down the road being afraid of anything around you is no way to go through life.

#32. Hold your line. Erratic movements in a group ride will take everyone out. Tighten it up.

#33. Don’t make accordions. Taking a turn up front is expected and appreciated, but not if you floor it the moment you take the reins, The guy 20 people back is going to get dropped by moves like that. Accelerate slowly so everyone can play.

#34. No shorts over your cycling shorts. Sister to Rule #21. Dress like you know what you’re doing.

#35. Learn to pee on yourself. You’ll spend $5,000 dollars to shave 55 seconds but won’t pee down your leg to save 3 minutes?

#36. The engine always trumps the rig. Always.

#37. Be on time, but don’t leave early. If the group ride or run is scheduled for 7 am, courtesy allows for 5 minutes. That means that sometime between 7 and 7:05 the wheels start rolling. If you roll up in your car at 7am and think everyone should wait for you to assemble your bike and pump up your tires, think again. Likewise, convincing the group to leave at 6:54 because you have a t-ball game is just bad form.

#38. No tan-lines allowed. This is not cycling. A farmer’s tan doesn’t make you look cool in anyway. The only exception is cycling short lines. Those are permitted, but need to be laser sharp.

#39. If you decide to talk the talk, be prepared to walk the walk. See also Rule #15. If you claim 3 hours at 300 watts, you’ll be expected to prove it.

#40. Crawling is an acceptable mode of transportation. It’s not pretty, but it gets the job done, and this sport is about getting the job done.

New Sponsorship Agreements for 2013

I'm so excited to announce that Tifosi Optics and Giro will be sponsoring me for the 2013 season!

I've been wearing the Tifosi Slip at work for a while, making use of the different lenses. Now that I'll be racing in their sunglasses, the Podium S is my choice during racing and training.

When it comes to the Giro helmets.  I'm still trying to decide!  I was wearing the Atmos when I wrecked in early March, and was pretty impressed with how well it did.  I think I'm going change things up and go with the Aeon for training, and the Selector for most races.

2012 brought so many surprises and changed the game entirely for me - I'm really looking forward to what 2013 will bring.  And I'm thrilled to be representing these companies during that time!

If Facebook were around in the 1980's...

On my way to work this morning, the radio station I listen to was joking about posts that might appear on Facebook if it were around during the 1980's.  So, for your viewing pleasure...

 

What do you think?  Add your 1980's posts in the comments!

Kerrville Triathlon Festival 70.3 Race Report

Still one of my favorite races!

Last year I went out and did the quarter distance race that they had, but I enjoyed it so much that this year I went for the half iron distance. I'm glad I did.

He thought he was going with me

I packed up and (after removing a LARGE DOG from the car) drove out the day before through some pretty decent rainstorms. I checked in and ran into several friends. My favorite part of the tri season is the people that I meet and get to see out at the races - and then see how they do.

A trip to T1 to drop of my bike and then to T2 to drop off my shoes. One thing about the Kerrville race is that there are two small transition areas rather than one large area. I'm sure as the race grows more popular that the transition area will have to grow larger, but for now, it's rather nice. Anyway, after that, kt was dinner, race prep, and off to bed.

Getting out in the morning was great. I love the pre-race energy that is just everywhere, and it was so cool getting to talk to so many first timers. So, I dropped of my run nutrition at T2, and headed over on the shuttle to T1. I got everything ready on the bike, and (after a few bathroom trips) was off to the start!

I didn't have to wait long. The half distance women's wave started pretty quick, and the swim was great. The swim is in a dimmed portion of the Guadalupe River. It's calm, perfect temperature, and wasn't crowded. I actually got to focus on my swim stroke and less on hand to foot combat that comes with the larger races. Still definitely an open water swim, but easily the calmest I've ever done. Just like last year. The only portion that I had to deal with any chop/waves or crowding was right near the finish. Fortunately, at the swim finish, there is a ramp, and lots of volunteers to help you (and your oxygen deprived body) out of the water.

Into T1 and to the bike. Fortunately, this year, no chip strap mishap to slow me down! I did take T1 a bit slow - I took an extra few seconds to wash my feet off before I rolled my socks on because there is a LOT of dirt and debris that gets picked up by your wet feet at this particular race.
On to the bike! This last year I've really learned to love my bike. I look forward with joy to the time when I can get on. Last year was a different story, but a better fit, better fitness, and a great coach have really changed things for me. So 56 miles promised to be a different experience. Well - it WAS an experience. I don't remember the chipseal being this bad last year. Maybe because I only did half the distance or because I wasn't going as fast, but for some reason, the chipseal beat me up more than I'm used to. Other than that, though, as far as courses in the Texas Hill Country go, this course is hidden gem. There isn't much gain compared surrounding areas, and it's a fairly simple loop that you do twice. It's also very scenic. Watch out for the gravel on curves and you'll be fine (also remember to tighten any important screws on your bike before the race). There are just a few short steep hills on the course to remind you that, yes, you are still in the Texas Hill country, and some false flats but otherwise a very nice course.

Into T2 and finally rattle free. I was pretty glad to be off the chipseal. Quick shoe change and remove the helmet, and out to the run.


 Now, I do all my running on hills, so more hills don't scare me. The run is four loops on hills. It's also about half hard pack trail. This year, it didn't phase me because the Bandera 50k gave me a new perspective, and I'm pretty used to doing loop after loop for races now. Up until the run, the weather had been cool and windy, but during the last loop, the clouds cleared, and the sun came out, and it got hot! Last year I remember it being hotter at the finish, though, so no complaints here.
Into the finish! They hold up a finish line ribbon for all the finishes, so I ran through it, arms up, like the goofy tri-geek that I am.

The volunteers really make the Kerrville race what it is.  They are the glue that hold the athletes together at any race, but Kerrville makes athletes feel especially welcome.  Kids come out and hold signs, adults paint their faces and hair, and everyone looks like they're having a blast.  Both years, the volunteers have really made the race amazing for me.

This race was my first half iron distance with a coach.  Jeff from Apex Endurance taught me pacing in all disciplines, and I've been working pretty hard on learning how to pace the bike by power and negatively split a run. I wasn't sure what to expect (as usual) but I went out to have fun and find out what is possible.

By the numbers:
Swim: 36:26   1:53/100m
T1: 3:01
Bike: 2:52:15 19.5 mph
T2: 2:07
Run: 2:00:14   9:11/mile

I asked around, and everyone with a garmin measured the run between 13.3 and 13.4 miles, so we think the run was a bit long again.  My results were as perfect for me as I could have asked for.  The pacing during the swim, the power during the bike, and even/negative splits on the run. 

I finished third in my age group and ninth overall female, so it was my first podium at a half iron!

Is it naptime yet?

Every time for every segment is a PR for me at the half iron distance, including the transitions.

Bling.

As for the friends who've seasons I've followed, they did rather well, two of them finished ahead of me - one taking second in my age group with a 5:25, and the other rockin' an awesome 5:21 (which is a PR for him, too).

This closes out the 2012 triathlon season for me.  This year has been an adventure - I've met so many great people and done so many awesome things.  There have been highs and lows and I've learned tat it isn't about the race, it's about the journey.  I've got the sense that I'm stepping forward into this amazing unknown, but I know that I'm in crazy wonderful company. So, for the people who have swam, biked, run, or virtually followed and in any way encouraged me this year, thank you. I've had fun.