I was not alone in this endeavor.  Many of the New Mexico Outlaws of Albuquerque were there including the famous and amazing Dread Pirate Rackham and SW Tri Gal. They stayed at a fabulous house on the beach.  I stayed in town and was  joined Friday by my beautiful daughter Erin and her wonderful husband Marcus and also by their friends Anne (who was racing) and Wren (who was there to support Anne).    The 5 of us stayed in an adorable little place that was way too close to the far turn around on the run course.

Race day dawned far too early as race day always does.   I always have a moment where I wonder what is wrong with me that I would so fully embrace a pastime that has me up at that hour, needing to eat food.  I get over that feeling as soon as I get to the start and find myself drenched in anticipation and adrenaline and loud music.  I forget all about the insanity of 4 AM awakenings and strapping on the food bag when I couldn’t care less about eating and the cycle of race goes on.

It was really cold – so cold that as I walked from the street where we had pulled on our wetsuits and dropped our bags, to the beach where the race started, the sidewalk  under my bare feet felt like the spongy stuff running  tracks are made of.  I was quite certain that the sidewalk was good old hard concrete so I knew my feet were frozen and the blood flow had pretty much shut down.

Once on the beach I decided to test the water which, at 69 degrees felt like a spa. Much better.  I did the usual thing (and you KNOW we just about all do it!) and took a little swim and then got out and lined up behind the starting arch. Sadly, we followed the rules and our support people were not with us but they could have been.  Others were there.  I kept looking around for them to see if they had chosen to sneak down there because I wanted  to give my daughter one last hug and wanted to hear one last ‘good luck’ from her but alas, Anne and I had to take care of each other which was okay.  And then it was time for the national anthem (they had kind of a nice rendition) and then BOOM!  It was time to head for the sea and discover what traversing 140.6 miles felt like.

The Swim –

This race is known for having a ‘downhill’ swim where you are aided by the current.  In the athlete meeting the guy had said ‘if you can’t make the 2:20 cut off you have no business being out there because you could lie on your back and make it’ and he wasn’t kidding.  I was moving so fast that when I put my face in the water and looked down I thought I could see the sand on the bottom.  I knew that couldn’t be right because this is a deep water channel that provides open sea access to fairly large boats so I thought I was hallucinating  and that was an uncomfortable thought.   But I felt fine and I was swimming well and I was keeping the buoys in my sight (yay!) so I didn’t worry about it.  I later figured out that it was the particulate matter in the water zooming past my glasses that looked like sand.  The water was nice and for sea water reasonably clear. you could see your hand in front of you and see feet when drafting which I also did.

Here is the path I was supposed to take:

and here is the path I took (thank you NTPers for the Garmin 310XT – it rules!!)

It looks a little like I cut a corner but I was right by a buoy the whole time so no shame.  The buoy situation was confusing because they seemed to have them on both sides of the channel and it’s possible that I went by one that was meant for the half and not the full – I don’t know but the big news here is that I did not swim off course!  I bought brand new goggles and they performed flawlessly and so did I.

The swim ends at a yacht club where they have ladders going down into the water from the dock.  As I headed for a ladder I realized the current was aggressively pushing me to a different ladder to the left so I aimed for that and pretty soon I had to fight to get to it.  I climbed up onto the dock, looked at my watch and was beyond thrilled to see 1:00:something.  1 hour!!!  I had thought I might see 1:15 instead of 1:30 but an hour flat far exceeded my expectations and I was one very happy woman!

I got stripped and then rinsed a bit under the showers and headed off for transition which was almost 500 yards away, and down the street:

I was moving fast so I’m not all in frame but you get the idea.  Happy!  Oh how I wanted the whole day to feel like that and I went into this race thinking it would.  I’m so funny.

T1 – Foolish Change of Plans

I had originally intended to swim with my arm warmers under my wetsuit and just pull on a jacket, my helmet, socks, shoes and sunglasses and go!  It was quite a bit colder than I had anticipated, though so  I decided to switch to “‘put on dry arm warmers, etc. and go!” but then, in the 11th hour (i.e. in the changing tent) I decided to also change my shorts.  This was a mistake because it took time.  T1 ended up taking  8  minutes and I could have stuck with Plan A and been out of there in 4.

The Bike –

The  start of the bike took us off the island, through a bunch of stuff and out onto the entrance ramp to the interstate.  That took about 20 miles and as I whizzed down the ramp (one of the very few places on this ride I rest my legs) who should be out there cheering but our people – Erin and Marcus and Wren!!  That was such a huge boost and a thrill because it was totally unexpected.  I was still  on a happy high from the swim and seeing them ratcheted me up a few more notches.

Off I went, cruising down the highway and getting passed a lot.  I wasn’t too bothered by that because my swim time had been so good.  In fact, nothing was bothering me – I was on my way and it felt good.  I stopped at the rest stop at mile 30 to use the port-a-potty and low and behold my shorts were now wet, having absorbed water out of my top.  That’s why changing t hem was just a big waste of time.  Whatev.  I got back on the bike and kept going.

Shortly after that a woman rode slowly passed me and started a conversation. “Where y’all from?” and we established that I was from California and she was from Durham, NC  and we chatted for a bit and then off she rode. I thought little of it.

There was another aid station at mile 48 and I stopped again for a second and when I started up who should I see but Ms. Durham.  I got a better look at her and  realized I needed to figure out her age.  It wasn’t easy because her leg marking was really faded but I soon discovered that she had the number “55″ on her calf – crap.  This was one of the 3 women I was competing against and off she rode.  Damn!  She seemed really steady and strong and I knew I had to stick with my plan (to hold 17-19 mph)  so I just hoped I would see her suffering on the run (what an evil thought but that’s racing for you).

Special needs was at mile 64 and I stopped, put water in a bottle that had powdered nutrition, ate a banana, used the port-a-potty, took the sleeves off my jacket, took my over gloves off  and off I went and who should come cruising past me but Ms. Durham.  Hmmmm… she was working way harder than me but not really making much headway.  I stuck with that thought and stuck with my plan.

Not too long after that the wind picked up.  It was a cross wind so that wasn’t so bad and it wasn’t so strong – maybe 10-12 mph.  I was getting a little tired but I was still in good spirits.  My favorite part of the ride was somewhere along here.  Painted in the road it said, “caution – big chicken crossing” and I thought, “what the hell – do they have herds of chickens in NC?” and then there it was – a giant sculpture of a chicken.  Too funny.

At about mile 70 Durham lady picked it up a bit and I started to lose it.  I was getting really tired and I had forgotten to put on more Aquaphore at special needs and my  lady bidness was starting to suffer.  As we rounded the bend at about mile 75 we started going straight into the wind and it had picked up a bit by now.

I hate wind.  I am never very successful at fighting it and so it demoralizes me.  My speed had dropped by 2 or 3 mph and I was frustrated and tired.  I also didn’t seem to be able to keep up with my nutrition.  I was drinking from the bottles every 15 minutes but I wasn’t getting through them which meant I wasn’t getting enough calories. I had only managed to eat 1 little piece of PayDay so things started going south for me.

At mile 77 my dear friend DPR showed up.  She passed me and we chatted for a bit and then I encouraged her to take back her pace and get on with her race so off she went.  I was just dying and praying for the rest stop which didn’t come until mile 84.   So that was 20 miles of suffering with my saddle killing me and my hatred of the wind and frustration mounting.  And with that I went to the dark side and felt overwhelmingly cranky which is not a good place to be.

I hated triathlon in that moment. I made  a firm decision to drop out of Oceanside because there was NO WAY I would ever sign up for IM Canada and what’s the point of racing in March if it isn’t to sign up for something.  I decided that I would just train with my friends because that’s fun but I WOULD NOT even CONSIDER EVER, EVER, EVER doing another 140.6 – NEVER!!  Hate this sport; hate my bike; SCREW  YOU WIND!!! I HATE YOU!!!  I HATE ME!!! I HATE EVERYBODY!!!!!

I was in no doubt of my ability to finish, though so I focused on how I was chipping away at the miles.  The internal dialog was “you’ll soon be at mile 80 and then you’ll only have 32 miles to go. You’re at mile 82 so just 30 to go and when you get to 92 it will only by 20″.  I stopped at the last rest stop at mile 101 and ate a banana and got more water and then the U-Haul truck pulled up.  There is nothing much worse than the U-Haul truck showing up because it means they are starting to shut down the course.  That made no sense from a time perspective but it still freaked me out.

Back on the bike. “You’re at 102 – just 10 miles to go!!…… 105, just 7 miles to go!…..110 just 2 miles to go!  You’ve got it!!!” and I was happy to be almost done but not happy.  I pulled into T2 and saw my crew and when Erin asked me how I was doing all I could say was “Suffer-fest, baby. 50 miles of wind – ugh”.  Handing off my bike felt really good, though.

T2 –

Into the changing tent and again I was deliberating what to do but I stuck with my original plan to just change my shorts, change my shoes,  put on my  hat, take off my jacket, swap sun glasses  and go.  That took about 6 minutes which was not great but not horrible.

The Run -

My plan was to run at a 10:45 – 11:00 minute pace, run to the END of the aid station and get what I needed, get it down and keep running.  Oh I crack myself up.  First of all I have the Garmin set to the wrong ’smoothing’ so my pace doesn’t really record properly in real time.  Second of all I had just ridden 112 miles, 50 of them in misery.  I soon abandoned the plan and just motored on as best I could.  I did find myself at a 10 minute pace and had to slow down but that was short lived.

I saw Anne  heading back in  not too, too far after I started.  We had a hug and a moment and off we went.     I had no idea what Ms. Durham was wearing and I didn’t care.  I had started on the run roughly 9 hours  and15 minutes into the race which meant I had almost 8 hours to finish and I new I could do that.  I never had a doubt.

This run was 6.55 miles out, turn around and head back, repeat.  I had already decided that the first 6.55 miles would be just that and the 2nd 6.55 miles would be what got me half way through and the 3rd 6.55 miles would be what got me to the last 6.55 miles and I was okay with that.  It was a good way to break it down.

I really felt like I needed to pee so I stopped at the 2nd set of port-a-potties and nothing happened.  Hmmm…. Off I went and stopped again in another 2 or 3 miles.  Same story.   Weird.  I knew that was a sign of hypothermia but it wasn’t cold so I figured that wasn’t it.  It was getting dark and cold and I really wanted to get back to special needs at the turn around so I could get my jacket and head lamp and sushi hat so I just focused on that goal but I found myself walking way more than I wanted to.  I had time, though.  I also had a stitch in my side from the automatic urge to ‘hold it’ even though nothing seemed to be happening. I tried to take deep breaths, let go of the muscle tension and just keep going.

I saw DPR out there somewhere near the 1st turn around – I can’t remember if it was before or after but I had this crazy idea she was only about 2 miles ahead of me.  It was more like 5 but I wasn’t thinking all that clearly in that moment.  It was just nice to see her and she looked fabulous.  I was also very happy to be heading back to the T1 area.

At the turn around I got to see Erin and Marcus again and expressed my predictable sadness at having to head back out but also noted that 1 more loop and I’d be done – yay!!  I told her I had given up on my goal and was in survival mode but that I would definitely finish.   I got my clean jacket, my sushi hat and my head lamp on and then  Erin ran with me for a while until she  sent me off so she could go back and wait for Anne.   I had seen her again and I knew she was probably only about 20 minutes from being done.

I had given up on the whole pee thing by now and I was really struggling to take in calories.  I didn’t feel sloshy but I was starting to feel sick.  I tried to consume some Gu from my gel flask but that wasn’t working at all.  The chicken broth came out so I tried that and it was great.  At the next aid station I had some Coke and made a decision to just alternate – chicken broth, coke, chicken broth, coke.  Notice something missing?  Water.  I quit drinking water which was undoubtedly a mistake.  I did eat orange slices from time to time and I managed to get down a few grapes.  I couldn’t handle anything like bananas or bagels, though.

I did take in some water with some Tylenol and that helped the pain and I was really motivated to finish so I picked up the pace and I ran more.  I even managed to run without stopping between aid stations a couple of times and that felt really good.  “Really good” was all relative at this point.

I saw DPR about 2 miles or so before the turn around so I knew she had 5 miles or so on me and she was still running and looking great.  I was managing but not thriving.

This is the part of an Ironman where what you see on the course is sheer carnage.  People who are sick, people who blew up on the bike, people who are limping.  It’s kind of a parade of  misery but it was almost over so on I went.  As I approached the turn around for the 2nd time it seemed like it had moved.  I even asked some guy where they were hiding it and why did they move it like that and that was good for a laugh.

The turn around was very, very close to the house we were staying in and I was so glad I didn’t have a key or a phone on me because if I had I would have been sorely tempted to head for home and call in the troops.  As it was I ran around that cone with my arms spread like an airplane and every time someone at an aid station said, “you’ve got it!  You’ve got this one” I replied ” you bet I do – I WILL finish!  This race is mine!”  I thought it was kind of crazy that they were saying that because I couldn’t imagine not finishing at that point  and it was with that thought that I headed in.

The last thing you have to do in this race is run up over a very long bridge that, like the turn around, had gotten quite a bit longer.  Very few people run up this thing so it was a walk to the top and then wheeeeee….. run down the other side, run down the road, get directed to the finish and DONE!!!

The aftermath

I look pretty good in that picture!  That didn’t last long, though.  I finally understand how someone can run across the finish line pumping his or her fists in the air only to collapse to the ground or start barfing on the spot.  I lasted a little longer than that but not much.

To be continued……..

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Last night  in my effort to find something on TV to keep me company while I caught up on Facebook I stumbled on a show on FitTV about Diana Nyad.  Diana was a world class ultra-swimmer.   She attempted at one time to swim from Cuba to Florida and was in the water for 42 hours, covering 90 miles before she had to give up.   She couldn’t repeat that trip because of Visa issues but she did manage to swim from Bimini to Florida successfully.  Makes 2.4 miles seem kind of easy but that wasn’t the best part of seeing that show.

At one time in her life she really wanted to represent the USA at the Olympics. Specifically she wanted to swim in the 1968 Olympics in Mexico when she was 18.  Sadly she had some setbacks including a sexual assault by an adult she knew that strained her emotionally and spiritually  and a cardiac infection that kept her out of the water for 8 months and sapped her fitness.  Those events conspired to keep  her from that goal and she approached her final swim meet in high school with a ‘why bother’ attitude – her dreams a pile of dust.  A friend of hers noticed how laden she looked and said, “look at the nail on your pinkie.  What does that represent as a fraction of the effort you use to swim a race?  Why not go into that race and push off as hard as you can and use every bit of your heart and gut and those muscles you’ve worked so hard to develop and swim as hard and fast as you can and when you get done don’t look to see if you are 1st or 8th, just close your eyes and close your fists and think about how you swam that race so hard you didn’t have a pinkie nail’s worth of effort left in you.”  And that’s what she did.   She came in 6th but it didn’t matter because she was all in on that race and she knew it.

Since then she has filled her life telling stories as a sports caster and she has done many things to inspire others.  She works with women over 40 trying to reclaim their lives and with veterans dealing with any number of  casualties and issues.  She’s done lots of things to inspire and enrich the lives of others.

At the end of the show she talked about how there is so much to do and so many people to help and so much to  experience that no one can do it all – you just can’t. But when her time comes she knows that she will close her eyes  and know that she lived her life  so that she couldn’t have done one pinkie nail more than she did.

And that, as it turns out, is my ‘reason’.    I also do a lot of  “things” – I’m a CASA volunteer (and just signed on to be a team leader and help other CASAs) and I’m on the BOD of my race club and I started the new triathlete program last year and will continue it next year and I “do” stuff; it’s who I am.  This  race and presumably my impending accomplishment in finishing it  is one of many things I am doing not to win, not to be the best, not make someone else  happy, not for glory or fame, but as another component of   living my life with every bit of spirit and effort and joy I can.

Thanks

Getting to a race like this is never a solo effort.

Thanks go to my Coach Tammy Metzer of Tempo Multisport who has taken me from a ‘no way I can do this’  nervous breakdown to feeling 100% confident in my ability to finish. I feel strong and I feel great and she got me here so thank you Coach Tammy!!

My kids have been a huge source of encouragement and inspiration.    That’s one of a bazillion reasons I love them so much and want to make them ever more proud of their Mama.

My friend Sharley took me under her wing and trained with me quite a bit over the last couple of months and it’s been great.  Kelby, too.  Both of them have been great at beating me into shape encouraging me to go a little harder and a little faster than I wanted to.  Dana and Maggs and Kat and Harold and Julie and Christy and Patrick  all get thanks for hours logged training together.  Kudos to Vali for endless cheering and excitement for me (but we really didn’t get much of a chance to train together – baby that knee!)  Chris and Monica are my forever coaches and Joe is my forever font of wisdom and calm.  Thank you to Dana and to Sharely for putting together send off/good luck gatherings for me and thanks to everyone who came – it meant the world. And it means the world to me to know that so very many people are watching me and rooting for me and sending their good vibes.

And on that note – LET’S RUMBLE!!!

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I was on the swim and I was swimming between my friends Sharley and Dana, neither of whom are doing this race and both of whom swim much, much faster than me so I was happy! I think we might have even been chatting a bit, the way you can do in a dream.   I had some sense that we were well behind the pack but the water felt good and I kept thinking ‘this isn’t bad- this water feels pretty nice and I’m not cold at all’.  When we got to shore I realized I was wearing my fleece boots the entire time.     No wonder everyone else was done.

The swim ended in  a concrete warehouse and the 1 or 2 remaining  volunteers were  ignoring me. No help for Miss Fuzzy Boots.   I looked up and asked someone ‘aren’t you going to help me get my wetsuit off?  And they said everyone was done and I’d have to do my best.  I was still sort of marveling over those boots – I couldn’t believe I had swum 2.4 miles in them but oh well – at least I was warm!

Then I was wondering ‘where’s my bike’ and someone brought me a comfort bike – you know the ones with the straight handlebars.   I thought ‘wait a minute – where is my stuff?  Where is my transition area?’ and I realized I didn’t have one.  I had no bike,  no bike stuff and no run stuff and nothing was mine but all the while I was thinking “Fine – I’ll ride this bike – I’ll ride any bike – I WILL DO THIS RACE!”   Then I thought ‘wait a minute – there’s no way I would show up for a race and not set up in transition.  And then I knew I was dreaming and it really couldn’t be happening and I  made myself wake up.

Instead of having heart palpitations and thinking “OMG – I’m so nervous’ I was relieved because I’m right on track  – right up to the bad dream.  There are just 7 days left on the countdown calendar and then it’s show time.    I wonder how many more dreams I can squeeze in before then?

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Anyhow – last weekend I did 2 things (in addition to sitting in front of the TV playing on my laptop).  On Saturday I went for a long ride with my new cycling BFFs Sharley and Kelby.    And to my already existing cycling BFFs no worries – I have room for a legion of BFFs in my life, particularly those who attempt to rescue me from Friday nights at home alone as Vali  tried to do last Friday when I turned her  down on going out for  Margaritas.  But I digres….

Our ride took us out to the wilds where the windmills whop, whop, whop their way to lighting our lives only it wasn’t windy and the windmills were still – all of them!  We didn’t pre-plan the route and  extemporaneously decided to ride the infamous Patterson Pass Rd.  I had never done it before but I had heard it was a pretty good climb.  If  I had  had any idea exactly what that meant I would have changed the plan but innocence really is bliss some times.

The climb starts with a ‘false flat’ that is so very false you swear you are going downhill based on what your eyes perceive and yet you are in the granny gear working your ass off and not moving very fast.  It   was bizarre to the point of being mind altering.  The physical experience did not match the visual  – it was sort of like one of those pre-race dreams where you are trying really hard but something surreal keeps getting in your way.

After that it just starts climbing up and up and up and then you get to the the top – only you aren’t.  But there is a flat spot where we stopped for a minute and when I looked up and saw that we had an even steeper climb ahead of us  all I could think of was ‘holy crap balls – that is Dr. Suess land!’ (click here to get to a page of pictures of the real thing)

Dr. Suessian Hills

I stood there, looking up thinking “No can do – I just can’t get up there” and I begged to turn back and I was turned down because back was going to be as hard as forward and I said “I can’t do this” and Sharley thought but didn’t say “and what do you think you’ll do?” and I thought but didn’t say “I’ll be walking my bike up that hill”.

But I did not walk.  I rode.  I pedaled and pedaled and pedaled and I told myself ‘just turn the cranks 10 more times… oh wait – 10 more… okay fine, 10 more” and then I was at the top.  I redlined my heart rate on the way (178)  and I got that creepy, hair standing on end feeling on the top of my head but I did it and life got very, very good at that point.  Mostly because we got to go downhill  but also because of the way I felt.    It was a perfect day.

Dr. Suessville Elevation Chart

Sunday I ran the Nike Women’s Half Marathon.  I ran it like I will run the marathon at Beach 2 Battleship which is to say at a very slow pace.  I practiced that pace 10:30 – 11:00/mile and I came in at 2:29 something which is 11:22/mile but it’s hilly and I forgot to account for that.  It wasn’t  a PR by time (although not a PW, either)  but a year ago if someone had told me I would do a hard, “I can’t do it”, redline ride for 3 and half hours the day before I ran 13.1 really hilly  miles I would have told them ‘no way – no can do’.  I would have  whined and refused to even consider the possibility whereas this year I looked forward to the opportunity to test my legs and  I was comfortable with the test results.

And that is why I am over the top  giddy with excitement for my race.  I can do this.  I can push through and I can pace myself and I will finish and it will be another perfect day.

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I signed up for the full ride – 103 challenging miles through Sonoma County and out to the sea and back.  The race directors were brutally honest about the difficulty of this ride but I figured ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’ and I’m training for  an Iron distance race so what the hell – I was all in.

The splendor of this ride is literally indescribable.  It takes you through fields and farms and vineyards, on to the redwood forests, back out to pastures where  the cattle roam free from one side of the road to the other and then out to some of the most magnificent winding ocean side highway in the world.  I’m sure the  stretch of Rt 1 we were on has been used in  more than one car commercial.   The terrain is very tough with hills on Kings Ridge Road that my Garmin measured at 21% grade (I think the official is 18%), cattle guards aplenty and the wind out at the coast was strong enough to blow me sideways. Keeping the rubber side down was a challenge.  

I’d like to say I was 100% triumphant across all 103 of those miles but that isn’t quite how it went.

This ride is the cyclists version of the Myth of Sisyphus.  That’s the one where Sysiphus was condemned by the Gods to push a rock up to the top of a hill but  just when he  got close the rock would roll back to the bottom and he’d have to go back down and start again.  In this case, the ride involved climbing until you  were sure you were ‘at the top’ only to find that shortly after starting your descent you had to head up again.  It happened over and over and over.  You would get through the worst of it only to be greeted with another, less steep but longer climb.   The descents were ferociously steep  and took place in what felt like milliseconds.  The climbs just kept coming.   It was madness but the scenery kept it from being awful.  The scenery was amazing.

The first really ugly climb is on Kings Ridge Road.  It was preceeded by a not insignificant but not terrible climb  that made me think “maybe this ride isn’t such  a big deal after all”.  Then we encountered a sign that said ’steep climb ahead’.    I knew that the first climb was not notable relative to the real climb and that I was likely in trouble but I dug in and gave that hill what I had.  It was really, really hard and as soon as I saw people off the bikes and walking I thought – oh no  you don’t!  You keep pedaling.  However, at some point the combination of my very labored breathing and the intensity with which my heart was beating (not all  that fast but really, really hard) I bailed and started the walk of shame.  And started in with the self-loathing.

I got to a corner where there was a little bit of flat space and where my friend Sharley was waiting to take a picture of me climbing.  No such luck.  I caught my breath and got back on the bike and started in again but soon found that my willingness to suffer was pretty low so I got off again.  Crap.  This time I just walked to the next available place to re-mount and started up again and managed to do what I thought was crest the hill.  And it was a crest  – for about a few hundred yards and then the climbing started again.  I stayed on the bike this time, though and did not give up the rest of the day.  On balance I probably walked 10% of the whole Kings Ridge Rd. climb and I’m trying to just let it  go.   At least part of my rational was that I didn’t want to be the one to mar Levi’s inaugural effort by having a heart attack.  Big of me, non?

And on the ride went – it went up and it went down at ferocious and terrifying pitches.  There were signs telling you to slow down and people flagging you and calling out to you to slow down and my hands just about cramped up gripping the breaks and it was really fun and quite thrilling. And then the climbing started again.  Lather, rinse repeat.

I could try to describe the scenery. I could give you the blow by blow on the flat tire that ended my day at mile 75.  I could tell you about every rest stop and about the wind  that threatened to blow me across the road, right in front of an on-coming car. All of those things happened and my ride ended at mile 75 with the bead of my  rear tire partially separated from the rest – game over. I could tell you how both elated and sad I felt about taking a car ride over the next ugly climb on Coleman Valley Rd (I would have walked part of it but  would have finished the ride and was really sad not to be able to) but mostly what I will tell you is what I learned on this ride.

I learned, once again, that the state of California is gorgeous and has some of the best riding in the world.  I learned that there is lots of open space and there  are places where people live simple lives, nestled in the redwoods or where they work tirelessly raising cattle in fiercely beautiful places.  I saw the ocean from a new perspective and marveled at the sparkling, churning azure waters and the craggy rocks pushing up from the bottom at a pace where I could really feel  them instead of whizzing by in a car at 50 miles an hour.  I learned that I have some limits  and that if I want to transcend them I need to do some more work  but that  even with the limits I’m remarkably fit.  I learned that good friends are not so much the people you’ve known forever as they are the people who encourage you and look out for you and push you to keep going.   They are the ones who tolerate you when you are cranky and lift you up 

I learned that there are people who really like to have fun and will ride 103 very difficult miles dressed as bees .

I learned once again to make sure that you can’t see the tube between the tire and the rim before you fully inflate the tire.  I learned that Sonoma County is a fantastic place where the  CHP, fire departments and 600 volunteers will all work tirelessly to give 3500 cyclists a fabulous day – I’d like to thank them for that.

Before the Fondo I had endless fantasies of the ride – fantasies that involved the man himself coaching me up the steepist grades and getting me there.  Hey, if  you’re going to dream, dream BIG!  The hilarity of that fantasy came into  sharp focus when we got to the aid station in Ft. Ross   We spoke to  some adorable girls who had everyone who passed through sign their volunteer shirts.      We asked if they had Levis’ signature and they said yes so we asked when he came through and they said 11:30.  It was 3:30 when we asked that question.  We only missed him by 4 hours!

Dreams and fantasies are good. They push us to do things we might not otherwise attempt.  If I had fantasized a ride in which I was unsuccessful at getting up  a hill and then had to toss it in  28 miles prematurely due to a blown tire (thereby garnering my first ever DNF)  I would probably have canceled the whole thing and just stayed home so I say dream  on.  Dream big and then do what you can to live the dream.   Without big dreams there would have been no Gran Fondo at all so thank you Levi for living large, dreaming big and making your dreams come true.  It was a great day.

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Sept 19-20

Saturday September 19 – no pictures. I ran 2 hours and felt reasonable (which is HUGE!) and then I went to visit my CASA kid.  If you haven’t read up on CASA please do and if you have any time in your life at all (as in your kids are grown and gone or you don’t have any) consider becoming a CASA – it’s  a very   important organization that does critical work.  You really can make a difference in the life of a foster child.  Enough said.

So here’s my run – yawn

Sunday was a great, great, day.  It was the day my new triathletes had been training for – the Tri for Real. I already wrote about this in great detail so here are the pics and a little video:

I didn’t race – I helped someone on the swim and then I ran up to the water station to cheer.  You can see me at about 7:00 in that video  but what you really want to do is start watching at about 6:20 so you can see our Tres Amigos de los Speedos who did the whole race ‘old school’ in their Speedos.   Words don’t do that justice.

Some of my fabulous Newbies

Aren’t those kits gorgeous?  I love our team kit.

After the race it was off to ride Mines Rd.  This was a pretty epic ride for me because I was with women in their 30s who are all much more fit and fabulous than I, it was hot, it was windy and we had to do some serious climbing.

We took pics at the junction

We finally got back to the park where we started and took cold, outdoor showers, washed and headed off to the Challenge  Weekend BBQ a mere 90 minutes late (for  2 hour party – oops).  Some certain people were very worried about me although I had spoken on the phone to others.  When I got there I did a little speech to congratulate my newbies and then they speeched me back and said all kinds of wonderful things that made me quiver and blush and then they gave me a present:

Reading the card

Do I look surprised! Like I'm going to cry? They gave me a Garmin 310XT and a gift certificate.

My fabulous Newbie Graduates

Sept 25-27

The Challenge Series  weekend was hard to beat but I managed to have another one that came quite close.  Summary – Bad Girls Book Club goes to the beach.  Friday afternoon  I drove over to Stinson  with a not Bad Girl (definitely a guy) from my club and we rode our bikes from Stinson Beach to Marshall and back and it was spectacular. Friday night was dedicated to hot tubbing, eating, drinking and for the rest of the group, Guitar Hero.  I was shot and went to bed.

Saturday I ran for 2 hours including running up the mountain.  Then we  had a massive brunch,  went to a sand sculpture event and then I hiked back up the mountain to take pictures, dragging a couple of bad girls with me.  I’m hoping they will forgive me any day now.  Saturday night we made a fabulous dinner and then played Guitar Hero.  Hysterical.  There was hot tubbing, too.  Sunday we kayaked and then we just played at the beach.  The weather was perfect.

Harold and me in Marshall, CA where the population equals the elevation (15 ft.) plus the speed limit (35)

People like to make sculptures on the beach all the time

We learned how to make sand balls from local artist Zach Pine (http://www.naturesculpture.com/) That is one of his

We made these sand balls

Taking Pictures on the Beach

Saturday Brunch of Cheesy Scrambled Eggs, beans, guacamole, sour cream, salsa, tortillas,bacon, cottage potatoes, fruit salad and mimosas. My hair is wet because I had already run for 2 hours. I really enjoyed that food!

Learning to make sand balls from Zach Pine http://www.naturesculpture.com/

Hiking up the Matt Davis Trail

Kayaking (those are my friends in the boat, not me)

I hiked back up here Saturday aftenoon because I saw this in the morning and just had to have a picture of it. It was further up the trail than I had remembered

I think the reason I skipped Monday Monday is obvious. I’m staying stuck in my weekends as long as I can.

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Saturday was long run day – I had to run 2 hours.  It was also a day when many members of my club race at the Back to School 5K or 10K and those not racing go out and volunteer.  Many of my New Triathlete Program people (NTP aka newbies) said they would volunteer and I really wanted to be there to see them the day before our big triathlon and just to be a part of it all.  I also really needed to go see my foster kid for whom I am an advocate through the Court Appointed Special Advocates program (check out the national site to see more).  This child lives hours from me so I had to allocate 2 hours to run and 5 hours of travel time plus the visit plus I had to be up at OMG:thirty on Sunday so I needed to get home early.  I couldn’t work out getting the race in (I guess I could have raced 10K and then run another hour but there aren’t any showers there and racing wasn’t on the plan) so I didn’t go and it felt sort of wrong but very right.  There are things in life that really are more important than triathlon and race clubs and foster kids in need of an anchor is definitely one of them.

My 2 hour run was fine – it felt good and that was exciting because the run and I have not been such good friends lately.  Score!

Sunday was the day of the race I’ve been training the Newbies for.  Most of them had already done a shorter sprint and some had even done an Olympic distance race but this was our big club event and I was so excited.  I didn’t race but I did do the swim with a woman who was very nervous about getting run over by the swim waves behind us (our club gets to go in the first wave en masse and there was quite a mass of us!).  I was there to defend her water space and help her stay calm and I did and she exited the water all in one piece.  After that I ran up to the bike course to cheer people on and then I headed up to the water station to cheer some more and pass out water. Turns out I positioned myself incorrectly and missed some people that way but it was fun.  Then I went down to the finish line to cheer everyone in.

I really wanted o stay and be at the award ceremony and just hang out and talk to everyone about their race  and I wish I had because NTP had people on the podium! How great is that??!!  Alas – I had a long ride on the plan so off I went with my 2 new BFFs and a friend of theirs.  It was a tough, long ride and it was hot and windy but it was great.  There was a moment when I was sure I couldn’t do it and I really worried about how I was going to get out of there but some cold water and a PayDay later and I was fine and rode strong – no problem.

Elevation from gpsvisualizer (top) and from MapMyRide (bottom)

That's it - you ride almost 40 miles and this is what is there

We got back to the park where our cars were right about the time the Challenge Weekend Celebration BBQ was starting but we were sweaty and gross and really needed to get cleaned up.  I had neglected to bring clean clothes but my BFFs had several outfits each with them as well as soap and shampoo and cream rinse so we all used the outdoor, cold water shower and cleaned up in our tri suits and then put clean clothes on (in the privacy of the ladies changing room) and finally, finally headed to the party arriving a mere 90 minutes late to a 2 hour party.  Great.

But it was great because I got a chance to say some words about my fabulous Newbies who stepped up and trained and made their dreams come true.  I’ve hatched a litter of tri-junkies and I couldn’t be happier about it.  I’m so proud of them and so very happy to have played a role in giving them a chance to do something they might not otherwise have done.  I said my words and I handed out a little memento to each of them and then they took the floor.  One of them read a whole story about how there is no “I” in  TEAM and about how great the program had been and how she had made friends and accomplished something wonderful.  Another woman gave a speech about me that made me blush and made me proud and made me feel loved  and then they gave me something to remember this inaugural season with – a Garmin 310XT and a $50 gift certificate to Forward Motion Store, our primary benefactor.  Wow – just wowl  *Channeling Sally Field* -“You LIKE me… right now.  You  LIKE me!”  I’m so humbled and so happy and so very jazzed about my new toy!  But I’m more jazzed that several of the newbies want to ban together to train for an Oly.  Success!

Looking forward, one of the things possibly on my plate is getting a slot for IM Canada when I race Oceanside.  Because it is so early in the year the carrot they dangle to athletes is the potential to get a slot at any of a couple of NA Sports M-dot races and Canada  is one of them (but shhh… don’t tell everyone about this because it’s kind of a secret, okay?).  I have several friends who are going to race and a few more racing Oceanside so they can get slots.  It’s a possibility but one I don’t think I’ll take because this weekend I figured out something really important about me.

My “moment” came when I realized that triathlon is a fundamentally self indulgent endeavor but I am not a fundamentally self indulgent person.  I spend a lot of time volunteering and giving to others because I like it and it makes me feel good.    I feel good about having become an athlete, too but the trade offs cause me stress. This weekend was a great example of that where I was torn between being with my race club and being with my foster kid and being with my race club and getting in my training.  I had to just take a deep breath and let it go but it was difficult.  It all worked out in the end but in the process it made me feel a little crazy.

I’d like to do the NTP next year again and I’d like to help organize this year’s newbies to train for an Oly and I’d like to train with them.  This year my direct participation in their training fell off because I signed up for Beach 2 Battleship and if I raced Canada I’d have a worse problem because it is in August and the training would consume my whole summer.    So again – the opportunity for conflict and stress is huge and I’m a ‘want it all’ kind of gal.  I’m a problem solver, too so here’s the solution:    I’m going to race Oceanside which means training up  a 70.3 on  March 27.  I’ve also decided that  I’m going to attend IM St. George in some capacity.  If I love 140.6 after B2B I might do a fund raiser and buy a community slot for 2010 (I’d pay my $550 and raise the rest) and attend IM  St. George as a participant.   If  I don’t want to do that I can just go be a Sherpa and then sign up for 2011 on-site.  Either way my IM training and season will be over in early May at the latest  and I can get on with the business of playing, training  newbies, and racing shorter distance races.  Brilliant and perfect and what a great Monday it’s been.

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Where the bugs are huge

And the babies travel in herds

Where the vines cover everything

And the healthy living trails are brought to you by the American Tobacco Industry

Where they love ironworks

and they search relentlessly for ET.

And where I’m having a fabulous time with my daughter and son-in-law.  Tomorrow we go scope out Wilimgton, home of the Beach 2 Battleship 140.6 and 70.3 to which I will be returning come November.

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I like to think I’m trying to keep it in 4th with an occasional burst to 5th; pedal to the metal, baby.

How about you?

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Triplets of Napa

Triplets of Mt. Diablo

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The Triplets of Belleville

The Triplets of Danville

Discuss

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Folsom Olympic Distance Triathlon

The night before the race I went to the Mexican restaurant next door and ordered  a chicken burrito, expecting to get a normal burrito.  No.  I got this ginormous thing (note the burrito is as wide as my laptop and that’s not a netbook) and was pretty stunned.  I gutted the thing and by the time I was ready to toss out what was left it looked a bit like something you might find on the side of the road after it got run over several times.  ew.  Tasty, though!

The swag I got.  Another ‘interesting t-shirt and some samples. Not bad.  By the end of the race I owned 2 more water bottles, too!

A composite of me across all 3 disciplines.  Do I look a tad dead on the run?  And the elation coming out of the water says, “yay!  no cramp!”

Podium!! AG 3 out of 8.  Best podium finish ever!

Sharkfest 09

Is this the shore??  Am I alive??  Oh miracle of miracles!

That dark stuff on my face = sea smutz.

Tour of Napa Valley Century

As we were going up the first big hill the woman behind said, “Is that death or is that bagpipes?”  I was too winded to answer but I’m happy to say it was bagpipes.  This guy was a really welcomed addition to the ride.

Groovin’ at the first aid station with Dana and Kelley!

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In the last 2 years I’ve done this with FeLady, Mr. FeLady and some friends of theirs (J and P) and it has been a ton of fun.  This year the FeLadys were not able to come due to school starting so I figured it would be just me doing a solo act although their friends would be there.  I just didn’t have a lot of hope of finding them in a crowd of 800 because my sighting is bad in those cases.  In fact my sighting is weak, oh so weak, a reality that would come back to haunt me viciously on this swim.

I really wasn’t feeling it.  In fact, I had a strong sense of doom and very nearly talked myself out of the race but I paid $100 bucks for it and I’m training for an IM so I made myself just keep moving forward.  I left the house late and then missed the exit I needed to take, found myself in the middle of San Francisco going the wrong way and hitting a red light about every 2 blocks.  I finally got back to where I needed to be but the red lights just kept it up – ugh.  I was pretty sure I wouldn’t get there in time. Wishful thinking.

Finally got there, parked at Ft. Mason in a 2 hour slot (very risky) and started running to packet pick-up.  Only I tried to take a shortcut across the lawn of an historic house and ended up on the edge of a sharp drop off – no way down (duh!  It’s a FORT!).  Then I found some paths through a wooded area and even though I knew perfectly well they were probably made by homeless people I just kept going – until I hit a homeless encampment.  Oops!  I finally headed for the street and ran with my transition bag full of wetsuit, clothes, water bottle, etc.  It was kind of heavy.  I was running in slightly oversized FUGS (fake Uggs from Costco) that made a loud and annoying flapping sound and alerted everyone within a 100 yard radius of my presence.   Oh Lord.

I finally got to the building fully expecting people to be shaking their heads and saying ’sorry – too late!’ but no such luck.  The line to get your chip was still out the door.  It’s game on!

Got chipped, suited up, got my stuff and started to head to the ferry when who should I see but Mr. FeLadyFriend (aka J) and wife – yay!  I instantly felt better for not being alone.     Only J is a swimmer, not his wife so we parted ways and got on the ferry.  J was explained how to get the best line to me on the way out.  Fat lot of good that did.

The boat stopped by the island and it was time to jump.  By now I was feeling much better about this whole thing but I was desperate to pee and really looking forward to the line up at the start where I would have time.  I said good-bye to J because I knew he would be out of the water long before me (he spent 3 weeks swimming 5,000 meters a day to prepare) and off we went.

Jumping off a ferry into the SF Bay is always a shock – that water is cold.  I was taking my time heading to the start because I had to get my face used to the water and I really needed to pee (I’m going to have to write a race report theme song called “Boy Did I Need to Pee!”).  Sadly, No time!  I didn’t make it to the line before the horn went off – drat!

My goal was to stay with people and not end up all by myself, off course.  Goals are really good but we call them ‘goals’ instead of ‘this is the way it will be’ for a reason.    I was with people, then I was near people and on my way over and then – no people.  I found the people and headed for them and then – no people.  Lather, rinse, repeat until I didn’t really see the people any more.  I didn’t see the red buoy on the lead boat, I saw only kayaks and I mistakenly thought that as long as kayaks were near I was okay.  I’ve made this mistake before but never quite understood the issue.

Did I mention I was wearing dark, mirrored goggles?  This is a big no-no in open water swimming and I know this.  Unless the sun will be blinding you you need to wear clear goggles so that you can see because being able to see = good sighting.  Dark goggles = short sight line = you’re not going the right way = story of my life.  That plus the night before, for the every first time ever I had to wear my glasses to see the TV across a short room.

The water was much rougher than I was expecting it to be, too.  It was smooth and glassy inside the sea wall but out in the open I was getting buffeted around like a gum wrapper blowing down a  windy sidewalk.  I tried not to be nervous about the current or the fact that I often couldn’t see over the waves.

At one point I knew I was not doing so well so I stopped, pulled up the goggles, looked around and there were some people so it wasn’t so bad. The big crowd was so far along I didn’t see them and I still needed to pee so I just hung out there and took care of business.  I just didn’t care any more.  I got my bearings, found something to sight on and got going again.   I could go on and on and on about how I couldn’t lock on to a target and wandered in the wrong direction perpetually but it gets boring so I won’t.

Ultimately I was getting closer.  I could see a big gray ship that I thought was right at the mouth of Aquatic Park so I headed for that.  As I got closer I realized I couldn’t see the Maritime Museum, couldn’t see the opening in the wall and couldn’t see the red buoy marking the opening of the wall so I stopped, started treading water and finally, FINALLY a kayak dude said, “head right – see that big red ball over there”  and I did – about 500 meters away to my right.  ARGHH!!  The good news was that  I was close so off I went.

click picture to enlarge

I got inside the park and got passed by a breast stroker.  Yeah – I know.  I drafted off her.  Other people were starting to pass me and I started getting very, very worried about a DFL but I was beyond fighting and this isn’t a race I do well in ever so I just kept swimming and I finally got out of the water.  People smiled at me in a way that said, “you have smutz all over your face” and said, “nice job!” and I felt my face and it was covered from top to bottom with sea smutz. Can’t wait to see the pics (not!)

I turned around to confirm my status and I’m happy to say I was not DFL.  I was certainly among the last 20 in but not the last. Regardless,  I was not happy.  I was quite cranky.  I was really mad at myself and really perturbed that the kayaks had let me go so far off course but I have to assume I was not the only one.  Some poor soul was probably sighting off of me – HA!  Big mistake.

Mad as I am about the whole thing and as much as I feel like a loser I’m all too aware that many people reading this would never, ever voluntarily find themselves in the middle of the San Francisco Bay and you think I’m quite the stud for jumping off the boat in the first place.  I also feel a deep gratitude that I have the ability to swim that far in bouncy water and come out alive and well in the end.  All of that health and vitality are a gift and I try really hard not to forget that.

Tomorrow I go on a century ride.  I can follow the road and that’s a good thing.

Post Script:  The kayaks are out there to keep you from going too far off course.  If you are swimming near them then they are probably in the process of herding you back where you belong.  Lesson – don’t sight off the kayaks and if your trajectory takes you toward them stop and find something solid and unmoving to sight on.  I sincerely hope this isn’t a lesson I have to keep learning over and over.

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The Swim -If you’ve been following this blog for a few years you know that 2 out of 2 prior runnings of this race (2007, 2008)had me coming out of the water, traversing the nasty river rock and falling down with an extremely painful cramp in my calf.  My first goal for this race was to not have this happen.  I swam kind of easy, counting to 100 over and over again and as I approached the swim out I did the breast stroke for a little bit to stretch my legs.  It worked!  I got out of the water sans cramp.  Mission accomplished!

T1 - as always I couldn’t get my wetsuit off over my feet.  I need to work on this because it kills me every time.  There was not a single bike in the FMRC rack I was in   but this was to be expected because the only other woman in my wave I could think of in that moment  is a really strong athlete and really competitive.  There was a 3rd rack I didn’t check but if I had I would have noticed 1 bike and remembered there were 2 in my wave.

The Bike - I rode 50 miles on Saturday so my legs had a little wear and tear on them and I could hear them whimpering softly  but I felt okay. I passed people and people passed me.  I never once saw a woman in my AG which which made me think I was either dead last out of  the water or had a phenomenal swim.   I didn’t know so I let it go.  I did get passed at mile 7 by the other woman in my club and in my swim wave who also happens to be in my New Triathlete Program.  I’m going to have to strip her newbie status immediately!    I  tried to ride as hard as I could but made  a conscience decision not to watch my speed on my bike computer.  Big mistake – huge mistake.  Percieved effort is crap for me.  Numbers rule.  Lesson learned.

Someone is NOT in her happy place!

T2 - As I came into T2 I heard the announcer call my name and the name of another woman and I heard him say “Number 1 and 2 in our later  age group” which was secret code for “old ladies division” but the young guys never say stuff like that. Anyhow, there were these 2 women standing by my full rack and I said excuse me and then I said “did he just say that?  Did he just say #1 and #2?”  Of course they had  no idea because they were just hanging out in transition shucking and jiving while their friends/Sos raced but they said, “Yeah!” so I said “OMG – no pressure there!” and I took off.

That bit of misinformation was key for me.  I had to keep running lest I made it out of T2 before the other woman did.  I had to put some distance between us so I ran as best I could. I passed the first water station and just kept going since I had about 5 gallons of water in me.

The Run – The run was really hard for me.  It seemed like about 100 miles to the mile 1 marker but I just kept going with the pep talk (you can do it!  just keep running!   legs? what legs? go! go! go!). My goal was to put as much space between her and me so she could never catch me, assuming I got out there first.  I didn’t see her ahead of me so I stuck with that assumption.  It was a huge struggle, though.

I  am eternally grateful to the woman who saw me take a couple of walking steps who called out “you’re almost to the turn around!” so I ran.  I did my best not to look back and just kept running knowing I could search for my adversary after the turn around.  There she was, about a 1/2 mile behind me – too close for comfort.  I thought about giving in to my desire to walk and then I thought “suppose you give up 2nd for 3rd – how would THAT be, Missy??!!” and I kept running.

The brain is a powerful enemy in these races and mine was saying “WHO CARES??!! – JUST WALK IT!”  And I gave in – for a count of 10 and then I ran again.  I thought about how stupid it is that I race and wondered, for the 9,000th time why I can’t just spend my time kayaking and wind surfing like a normal middle-aged woman.   I walked up a hill encouraged by a42 year old  man who said “that’s right – walk the hills, why not?” and I hate that but then I realized I was right behind the guy who had run it (M 49) so I started running and let that guy be my pacer.

Right before the finish of Folsom you go off the paved trail and run on a rocky, dirt trail. This is where the lady passed me 2 years ago and then beat me by 18 seconds. This is where I heard foot falls behind me last year and   thought “oh no you don’t!” and picked it up to come in 10 seconds before Ms Footfalls who was in my AG.   This is where I picked it up again in an effort not to get burned by the enemy behind me.  Turns out I really didn’t need to do that but I really did need to be done.

And there I was -  DONE!  And I looked at my watch and it said 3:19 and I was hating on me, triathlon and my legs – most especially my legs.  Last year  I did this race in 3:02 so the 3:19 did not put me in my happy place.  I was pretty sure I suck and should just hang up my running shoes but about 20 minutes later I went to the computer guy who gave me my splits and said “3rd in your Age Group”.  “NO WAY!”

I wondered and wondered how I came in 3rd if I was 2nd or 1st in T2 and I realized there was no way.  First of all I didn’t get passed by anyone in my AG on the run.  Second of all when I look at the results it’s clear that #1 and #2 were way out there by the time I got on the run.  They beat me by 37 and 22 minutes respectively.  I beat #4 by 20 minutes so I guess I did drop her good and hard.

So where did I lose those 10 minutes?  How was it that I was unable to reach my main goal for this race – to go sub 3:00??

1). The swim.  My swim time was off by 6 minutes. Holy Moly!  I checked times for several other races and everyone was off 2-4 minutes (I’m kind of “special” with 6) so I expect the swim was a bit long.  I also suspect I didn’t swim very well.

2). The Bike – if I had been watching my speed I would have gone faster.  Plain and simple.  Lesson learned.  I was 2 minutes slower.  On the other hand I rode 50 miles the day before so that was a problem  That’s all the more reason I should have gone by speed being that I’m pain averse.

3).  The Run – I have not been running enough and I just need to HTFU on the run in general.  I was off by 3 minutes and I suspect the 75 miles on the bikein 2 days  had quite a bit to do with that.

The long ride yesterday was about training for endurance.  That’s what I need to be doing. I’m starting to wonder if it’s worth it to race a distance I’m not training for and I really don’t know.  That having been said I’ll be doing a sprint on Sept. 20 and then next up is B2B 140.6.  I wonder how I’ll feel on that run?

Stats:

Swim 35:40.2; T1 2:28.4, Bike 1:25.11, T2 1:20.3, Run 1:08.11  Total time 3:12:51 (apparently my watch is what sucks)

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I forgot a couple of things yesterday (and ran out of numbers)

1).  All during the run at Vineman I thought over and over and over again “No way I’m doing B2B – NO WAY!  I’m cancelling my registration; they’ll give me back some money; I hate this;  I’m never doing this again.  I’m over it.  I’m doing the Folsom Olympic Distance Triathlon on Aug 9 (formerly FIT) and I’m all in for B2B.  I have a plan from Coach Tammy.  More on that later.

2).  If you worry about losing your hard drive or saving your digitial pictures you should look into Sugar Sync.  It is super easy to use and it lets you access your backed up files from anywhere. You can also share your backed up pics on FaceCrack.  It is secure.  You can check it out for free and if you like it you can get a whole lot of storage for not a whole lot of money.  Good stuff.

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