Adventures of a Laughing Triathlete, Foodie, and Traveler

MonticelloMan - Kicking off 2013 with some wine!

2013-05-16T19:24:00.000-04:00

Racing in Thomas Jefferson's hometown...

Highlight: The hamstring injury is HISTORY! My leg is healed, and although yes, I'm still running with a heel-strike, the pain from my pulled hammie two years ago is no longer!

Grumbles: Asthma/panic attack on the swim (water temps were low 60s!), and frozen feet on the bike.

Cham-WOW: I absolutely, 500%, ain't-no-doubt-about-it, love love LOVE our 2013 gear sponsor Louis Garneau! My previously-prone-to-saddle-sores area was quite happy, and the kits look super sharp!

Ladies of the team jumping for joy in our Louis Garneau kits!

Omimous Preface: My Attempt to Prevent an Asthma Attack in the Water

Three days before the race, I went to an asthma specialist to decipher what was going on with my recent gasping-for-air mishaps in the water. Last year, I had a panic attack in each triathlon except for the swampy-warm waters at Eagleman. I'd recently been feeling short-of-breath in the pool as well, and Bart diagnosed me with exercise-induced asthma (he is an MD sometimes).

I was so frustrated; I've always loved being in water and sometimes wonder if I weren't a fish in a former life. Now I feel like I couldn't even push the pace in the pool lest I die for lack of air.

Well, the doc confirmed that I do indeed have exercise-induced asthma because "when you exercise and your heart works really hard, your lungs are constricting and when you have your face in the water, this aggravates the situation and triggers your bronchospasm."
I nodded and patiently waited for him to just write me the prescription for an inhaler so I could get my evening swim workout in.

I was sooooo ready to kick these asthma attacks out of my life! Took two puffs from my inhaler in transition to keep the demons away before I headed down to the beach start...

Swim: Wherein the Asthma Attacks and I Drink a Gallon of Lake Water

Teammate Katie and I got in the low-60-degree water to acclimate to the frigid temps and warm up our (broad) shoulders a bit, but after only 3 minutes, we were kicked out of the water to make way for the men's start.

I gave Bart a good-luck kiss (spoiler alert: it worked!!), and ~~shivered~~ waited on the beach for the women's wave to start with Katie and Ellen. The women started four minutes after the men, and I made it a secret goal to beat Bart out of the water. I did not even come close to making this happen!

Sure enough, once my face hit the water after a very ungraceful dolphin dive, the asthma attack hit. I couldn't breathe and suddenly everything felt constricting: my sports bra, the wetsuit, the cold water, people are too close, get away, let me breathe!!!

Survived my asthma attack, which I'm convinced was triggered by my lack of a warm-up and the 64-degree-water, by flipping over and doing backstroke. I struggled to keep up with the rest of the ladies, but I quickly lost the leaders. About 500 yards in, I finally managed to calm my breathing and state of mind enough to stick my head in the water and resume free-styling.

I caught a few of the ones who had pulled away earlier, and found my groove a bit too late. I'm just glad I survived that swim and didn't have to backstroke into the beach exit!

1.2-Mile Swim:
30:32, 4th Female (and didn't catch Bart on the swim, he was long gone on the bike when I got to T1!)

T1: 2:31 - Opted to go with arm warmers and full-fingered gloves. Painfully slow to pull those things over wet arms, but worth it because the bike ride was quite chilly!

Bike: 56 Miles of Rollers and Nailed the Nutrition!

The Mindy-way of racing is to come out of T1 near the front of the wave, then to promptly hear "On your left!" and race wheels whoosh-whooshing by as I get passed by (what seems like) everyone.
Sigh. Such is the life of a double-digit power-wattage midget.

Well, happy to say that I was only passed by one female in the entire bike course! And I - yes, me!!! - actually passed a female!

Nothing much to say about the bike course, except:
1. My toes froze
2. I blew about 129 snot rockets.
3. Nutrition strategy: two bites (~60 calories) of a Clif bar (Coconut chocolate chip, yum yum!!!) every 15 minutes for the first 90 minutes. Switched to Shot Bloks and ate two (~65 calories) every 20 minutes for the next hour. The last 30 minutes I staved off and hydrated with water because I usually run best on a minimally-fed stomach. Oh, and I also had a couple bites of rice cakes that I had made earlier in the week, but those were really hard to eat with my full-fingered gloves!
No liquid nutrition, just good ol' agua.

56-Mile Bike:
3:01:10, 4th Female

T2: 1:30 - Thank the Buddhas for getting me off the bike! I'm always happiest in T2 because it means I get to take off my bike shoes and my dorky aero helmet.
I hit the port-a-potty on my way out, which was a relief.

Spermie on my head...

Run: Happy Feet, Sunny Skies and Rockin' Mizunos!

The run...I smile just thinking of those 13 miles of bliss. The past two tri seasons, I've struggled with a hamstring injury. I've done lots this past winter to ensure that 2013 is not a three-peat year. Lots includes aqua-jogging (I lasted 2 months!), elliptical (got to know Robin Meade quite well...), and physical therapy.

Adios, hamstring injury!

A quick shout-out to Snapple's shoe sponsor, Mizuno. My Mizuno Ronins were super-light and fit my feet like a glove. Hallelujah! Plus, they're bright yellow, so it makes me happy whenever my posture slumps and I catch a glimpse of the bright colors.

Took in three gels at miles 3, 6, and 10. The day was starting to warm up as well, so I took in water at each aid station. One cup for dumping on my head, one for drinking. The race volunteers started to notice a pattern by mile 6 :) and handed me 2 cups each time.

13.1-Mile Run:
1:38:52, 4th Female

Monticello Half-Ironman: 5:14:35, 4th Overall Female

Overall, an awesome day. Collected my wine bottle prize for 1st Age Group and crushed some ice cream when I got home, of course!

4th OA, 1st AG!

Lessons learned:

Figure out how to conquer my asthma attacks in the open water!
Learn to power up the hills on the bike. It's just pedaling, right?
Bring salt tablets, even if it's freezing temps at the start. You never know when that sun's gonna shine and you'll be wishing you had some salt on the run!

The Snapple crew dominated MonticelloMan Tri!

And a huge Congrats to my Snapple teammates!
Bart placed 3rd overall in the Half (and I didn't catch him on the swim...)!
Katie won the Half, finishing 27 minutes in front of 2nd place!
Ellen finished 5th overall, and Chris Morales finished 2nd in his age group in the Olympic!

Next up: Quassy Rev3 Half - ready for some monster hills up in Connecticut!

Week of Nirvana

2013-05-07T23:25:00.000-04:00

nir·va·na

/nərˈvänə/

Noun

A transcendent state in which there is neither suffering, desire, nor sense of self, and the subject is released from the effects of...
Liberation of the soul from the effects of karma and from bodily existence.

Tonight, I baked a crumb cake.

There it is. It now has a huge dent in it, and the roof of my mouth is burnt, but I'm happy.

So, so, so happy.

This week has been probably the most stressful week in my ohm-like existence, but for good reason. And I celebrated with a crumb cake because that's the way we roll in the Ko-syth household. Relaxation comes not from a yoga mat, but from baking. Filling the kitchen with the wonderful smell of brown sugar and cinnamon and plodding around in these slippers:

Thanks to Dotty for these slippers - she knows my OCD-self too well!

OK...so why the crumb cake therapy? Oh, let me count the reasons:

1. I finished my last final of the first year of grad school tonight! Feels good to know that after 8 years of no textbooks, I can still get my NERD mojo on. Ask me anything about Bhutan's role in the global economy or NAFTA's failures as an "agreement"; drill me about regressional analysis or the Coase Theorem. I am a nerd and I absolutely love it. Bart calls me boring, but I just tell him it's a two-year phase I'm going through...and I'm now halfway there!

2. First race of the 2013 Tri season! I struggled through an asthma attack on the swim and some strong winds on the bike, but the half-marathon felt awesome and powerful...I was ticking people off who had passed me on the bike and in transition! So happy to be injury-free this year, and looking forward to Quassy Rev3 Half in June already!

1.2-mile swim: 30:32
T1: 2:01
56-mile bike: 3:01
T2: 1:31
13.1-mile run: 1:38:52

MonticelloMan Half: 5:14:35, 4th OA Female, 1st AG!

The MonticelloMan gang:
Chris was 2nd AG in the Olympic;
Bart got 3rd OA in the Half;
Katie (1st OA), the tiny Asian (4th OA), and Ellen (5th OA)
raced our way through a tough field in the women's Half!

(this one's kinda big)
3. WE BOUGHT A HOUSE!
Say whaaaaat?!?!

You heard me, Jorge...

I said, WE BOUGHT A HOUSE!!!
The minute we walked in, we fell in love. With the kitchen. Then with the bathroom. Then OH MY GOD the backyard. And the bidet in the upstairs bathroom. And the office space and the downstairs open floor plan. The garage. The garden. The hardwood floors. EVERYTHING about this new house - OUR new house - is fantastic.
The previous owner put so much love and care and heart into making this place a home and not just a house, and in a weird sense, I'm honored that the torch is passed down to us.

Both Bart and I have no idea how to maintain the garden. I mean, check out (our!!!) azaleas and driveway. The previous owner did the landscaping himself. Just looking at these pictures makes me so excited for our moving-in weekend!

I'll get used to coming home to this every day...

Yes, after long bike rides in the summer we're TOTALLY taking
advantage of our outdoor grill!

Paradise in our backyard!

4. I started a new job!
That's right. My title is no longer "Intern." Goodbye, days of unpaid slavery in DC!
I started with Engility this Monday and am already loving it. My first day, I was introduced to another girl in the office as "someone who loves to eat." And later in the day, she tracked me down to tell me that every Wednesday at Engility, there's a breakfast buffet spread at 8:30 and it's the best part of her week. Oh boy, can't wait for tomorrow!

Life is just splendid right now. All this craziness this week makes me so happy.
Congratulations to all my fellow first-year grad school classmates at American University for our successful kick-off year!
Congrats to Katie, Ellen, Chris, and Bart for their smashing races at MonticelloMan this past weekend!
Congrats to my sister Phebe, who smashed her interviews for a cardiac anesthesiology fellowship!
And a congrats to the person who sold us our beautiful new home, who's opening up this place in Provincetown!

Happy 52nd, Peace Corps!

2013-03-06T09:56:00.003-05:00

Check out my article on American University's International Relations blog in celebration of Peace Corps' birthday: March 1!

Reposted below from the online IR Blog at American University:

Sharing Culture Around the World

In the Bedouin culture, “you’re a guest for three days. After that, you’re family.” Even though I arrived to my assigned Peace Corps village of Sabha with only ten weeks of Arabic lessons and a brief introduction to Muslim culture that mostly consisted of what I couldn’t do, I was shocked at how warm and welcoming my community was. As a TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) volunteer, my primary role was to teach English classes at the girls’ school in my village. Soon enough, I was tutoring girls and mothers English and math after school, holding exercise classes (which were held in a giant living room and consisted of attempts to teach my neighbors how to jump-rope), managing the English department at the school, and hosting pizza-making and cake-baking lessons. Peace Corps volunteers embrace flexibility – you go in with a certain mindset of your “assignment” and emerge with the ability to morph any space into a classroom and weave an element of cultural exchange into every conversation.

Village Sheikh with his two sons

Two Bedouins heading home before the sunset call to prayer

Two years immersed in a foreign culture taught me lessons no professor can ever teach in a classroom. I had read about Eid al-Adha and the customs of Islam’s biggest holiday, but when I witnessed a camel slaughter and drove around with the sheikh’s family to deliver camel meat to every Bedouin tent in my village, I understood what “community” means. When my female students explained to me that they wanted to learn English so that they could attend university in Amman or even Dubai, I was thrilled that education was valued so highly. When several older girls suddenly dropped out of school because their families had arranged a marriage for them, I wondered whether education for girls would ever take precedence over becoming a good wife.

Bedouin boy chasing his donkey in Wadi Rum

And during Ramadan, when Muslims fast from sunrise to sunset, I would rush to my best friend’s home (a 55-year old lady with four kids), cook for several hours with her, wait for the sunset call to prayer, and eat a feast with their family. I learned how fresh olives are turned into the world’s best olive oil, how Bedouins will stop you on your way to school and ask you to bring a pot of fresh tea to their fields (and they don’t mind waiting several hours), and how my villagers had based their view of Americans on what they had seen from Dr. Phil and Oprah. It took a while to explain to them that these TV shows were mostly for entertainment, and didn’t define the average American!

My two-year Peace Corps service initiated my passion for international development. After working for a few years as a Program Manager of the Middle East and Latin America regions with a non-profit, I decided that the best way to capitalize on my experiences abroad and interest in community development was to pursue my graduate degree. Washington, DC is ripe with first-tier graduate programs in the field of international development, and I ultimately chose American University because, as one student told me, “If you’re wondering where all the RPCVs (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers) in DC are, they’re here. At American.”

My favorite village baby trying to help move the camels out of the road!

And it’s true. At AU’s School of International Service, I’m surrounded by other RPCVs who share my love for travel and cultural exchange stories, as well as professors, who have encouraged me to write op-eds, participate in Arabic conversation groups, and share my experience with undergrads that are considering applying for the Peace Corps. From my Peace Corps role as an educator and teacher, I’m now on the receiving end as a graduate student. As John F. Kennedy, who established the Peace Corps, said, “Let us think of education as the means of developing our greatest abilities, because in each of us there is a private hope and dream which, fulfilled, can be translated into benefit for everyone and greater strength for our nation.”

Mindy Ko is pursuing her graduate degree in International Development with a concentration in Development Economics. She served in the Peace Corps in Jordan from 2006-08 and is currently working with the US Protections Unit at the UN Refugee Agency.

Just because it's Valentine's Day!

2013-02-14T10:22:00.004-05:00

I was the first to say the "L" word, maybe two or three weeks into dating this awesome dude. I still remember when I told my girlfriends - they all thought I had committed the cardinal sin of relationships.

"You never say the L-word first! Mindy! Never!!"

followed by:

"This relationship will never get anywhere now. You just admitted you are head-over-heels for him. What were you thinking!?!?!?"

Hmph. I can tell you what I was thinking - I was thinking "say it when you feel it!" And don't listen to your girlfriends who read those relationship advice books written by twice-divorcees.

I say the L-word about 20 times a day now. I know, mushy, mushy, blah, blah. I promise I won't get too sappy - at least by Valentine's Day standards.

Reasons why I love the one I love:

10. He dances while he brushes his teeth.

9. He doesn't care that I plod around in the same sweatshirt and sweatpants every single day.

8. He's a walking dictionary. Any word I say out loud, he corrects my pronunciation and recites the definition. Brilliant man.

7. He likes spicy food. His tolerance is higher than mine!

6. A date can be as simple as a swim workout together.

5. He doesn't buy me flowers or jewelry; instead, he gives me wonderful gifts like a Kitchen Aid mixer and a garlic crusher and a power tap hub.

4. He taught me what "sufferfest" means on the bike.

3. He lets me cuddle with him when he watches football games.

2. We never have to bicker about the other dropping hundreds (OK, thousands!!) of $$ to support our love for triathlon because we're both in it together.

1. He makes me laugh every day with his seriously-not-funny jokes and the way he eats popcorn.

The 2013 season kicks off with a Half-Marathon!

2013-01-28T21:44:00.004-05:00

8:45 am, chatting with my supa-star girlfriend Kendra Goffredo. She was pinning her bib on for the Cloud Snapple half-marathon, a low-key race run on the C&O Canal Towpath that started in 15 minutes.

"I wish I were running!" I complained, as I jumped up and down to somehow regain any blood circulation in my toes. I'd been freezing since 6 am that morning, and you never quite thaw out once you're a frozen popsicle.

"So why don't you?" Kendra asked.

"I didn't register, I'm supposed to be a volunteer, and I don't want to get injured."

"I'm doing 8:30 miles. You can run with me."

8:30? OK, I could do that. I thought of another excuse.

"I'm not wearing a bra and I don't have my Saucony running shoes with me!"

"I have a bra!" - Kendra whipped out a bright green sports bra out of her backpack. "And what's wrong with those shoes?"

Problem solved. I wasn't wearing my ideal running shoes, but they were a beat-up pair of hand-me-down Under Armour shoes from my twin sister. Kendra and I ran into my car, did a quick clothes change, and ran to the start line.

I know, have you ever seen two freezing girls so giddy to start a half-marathon race?!

Oh, and a second yes: Kendra is wearing a hijab. Apparently it is the ideal running headscarf - peripheral vision flexibility and light fabric!

Race Course - snow that provided a good cushion!

We started out slow and chatty. We were those two girls who run side-by-side, blah-blah-ing, oblivious to other foot and bike traffic on the trail. I'd say about 50 runners passed us within the first half-mile. We put in a little sprint effort when a guy (with extremely white thighs, I might add) passed us- Kendra and I chased him down with her camera phone, exclaiming, "Hey! Aren't you cold?!?!? You're wearing shorts! And they're so patriotic!"

Mr. America was not amused - he shot a glance back at us giggling girls while Kendra snapped a picture of his arse. No smile - why so gloomy, sir?

There's nothing thrilling to report in this race. No PR (in fact, we probably set a PW). I don't think any mile ever broke 8:30. Throughout the run, Kendra's HR read 170-200, which we attributed to the freezing weather on no basis other than that HR monitor was just plain lying.

One highlight was discovering this toilet at Mile 5:

Yes, we pee'd side-by-side.

I was ecstatic that my endurance is still there! 13.1 miles, and although it took us over 2 hours (yes, it did. Blame it on the bathroom break and frequent stops to chat with our aid station buddies), it passed by as quickly as one of my 6-mile loops through our Arlington neighborhood!

AND I just registered for my 2013 races. So psyched to have the schedule nailed down!!

May: Monticello Man Half
June: Quassy Rev3 Half
July: Diabolical Double
August: IM MONT TREMBLANT!!!!

So excited, I could do a handstand on a mountain!

How to FAIL at a handstand

OK, not really. I never really mastered gymnastics class, heehee!

A January summer in South Africa!

2013-01-19T17:06:00.002-05:00

Photo Album from South Africa here!

I was a bit burned out from the past 4 months. Since August, I had no races in the near horizon to look forward to, so my training was going through a blase-motivation phase. Hopping on my trainer and swimming 4-to-a-lane with all the other resolution-setters just lost all sense of fun, and winter training is always a bit cold and depressing.

I made one of the best decisions in 2012 and went back to school - but 7 years out of school is enough to make anyone forget how to study, write anything academic, or conduct regressional analysis! My brain was utterly fried, and it didn't help that my part-time job was spent trying to figure out some data-mining software that I wanted to smash with a hammer when it wouldn't pop out clean numbers.

Man, did I ever need a reason to escape for a couple of weeks!

Visiting Africa Jam in Khayelitsha

American University has a great program called Alternative Break trips - immersion programs that allow students to partner with community initiatives.

South Africa was a no-brainer: the program studied the social justice issues of gender equality, youth empowerment, and HIV/AIDs.

Plus, I could spend my first 2 weeks of January in summer bliss! Yes, please!

The first two days in Johannesburg were filled with museum visits and basically gaining a solid understanding of apartheid and the culture and history of South Africa. Jo'burg isn't particularly appealing - I spent most of my 2 days there hot and sweaty, wishing I could just dive into an ocean, and slowly overcoming jetlag.

South African cuisine at its finest: springbok!

By far, the highlight of Johannesburg was eating at Moyo. Fantastic flavors and I'd splurge there on a meal again and again!

I'm not particularly keen on museums and big, boring cities, so I'll fast forward to the fun part...

Samaki Kavu (fish in Malay curry) with a side of some creamy concoction of peanut-pumpkin mash!

Moved on to the wonderful city of Cape Town. This is what I'm talking about! Cape Town has an absolutely gorgeous setting - Table Mountain in the background and a nice sea breeze (or tornado-like gusts, if the wind picks up!)...boy, I am starting to sound like I'm in a Nicholas Sparks book!

Table Mountain - towering over the entire Cape Town!

You can't see the pain on our faces, but that sand
ripped our skin apart!

First day in Cape Town, we went to Cape's Bay Beach. Someone reported that the winds reached 60mph!

It was so cold, and absolutely horrible conditions for a relaxing day at the beach, but a few of us braved it and tip-toed in!

Shannon, Stephanie, and me trying to brave the cold Atlantic waters...

We also made sure to celebrate New Year's Eve in style with some Appletiser, South Africa's bubbly beverage of choice :)

I spy Desmond Tutu!

Our two weeks in Cape Town were spent visiting communities, implementing small projects, and learning about South Africa's social justice issues in the wake of apartheid.

A visit to Desmond Tutu's in Soweto!

Visiting Nelson Mandela's house in Soweto township!

We rocked the dance floor and got to jam out to some good African drum music on our visit to the Khayelitsha township, where we spent the day with Africa Jam!

Taking a stroll around Robben Island, the site for political prisoners such as Nelson Mandela and Jacob Zuma:

Of course, our van had to give out on one of our journeys to a township...while waiting for the van to be towed off, I got to join in a pick-up game of soccer with some 5-year-olds who used an empty 2-L soda bottle as their soccer ball!

Soccer game in the streets! These rascals had some skillz!

And, then it suddenly hit me: I turned THIRTY. The big third decade crept up on me, and there I was, sitting in my boxers in our Cape Town hostel and recovering from a hike out to Cape of Good Hope, when that wonderful aroma of chocolate cupcakes with warm vanilla icing wafted through the air...

Thanks to my wonderful trip-mates for staying up late and baking me mini cakes!

and although this message wasn't written for me, I thought it quite serendipitous that on my birthday, as I hiked from Cape Point to the Cape of Good Hope, I stumbled upon this "Happy Birthday!" message written in the sand!!!

From the sea to MEEEE!!!!

Our South Africa group!

My new coworkers...enjoyed scooping out the pints!

I also must mention that I was hired for a (very) short-term, temporary position at Haagen-Dazs in Cape Town.

I was thrilled when the manager said that he had never seen someone smile so much at the sight of ice cream at 10am!

Township visit in South Africa

I have to admit that I didn't miss tri training one bit. I found a running trail about a 1/2 mile from where we were staying, and found solace in going for a run before everyone else had woken up. I also got to spin the wheels on a rusty mountain bike in a township!

The saddle kept twisting, so I couldn't really ride it without an awkward clinching of the thighs, but I don't think these boys had ever seen a girl ride before! They told me I would fall off, and I was proud to prove them WRONG.

After all, as H.G. Wells said: "Let me tell you about bicycling. It has done more to emancipate women than anything else in the world. It gives a woman a feeling of freedom and self-reliance...the picture of free, untrammeled womanhood." I absolutely love that quote, even though it's more than a century old!

I'm not going to ramble about our township visits, short-term work with the communities, or learning exchanges with organizations that work on the ground with those affected by HIV. But maybe this video of some grannies from the organization Grandmothers Against Poverty and AIDS (GAPA) can show the welcoming hospitality of the entire South African community!

A few more highlights from the trip:

Shannon Carey and I were absolutely obsessed with doing yoga poses everywhere we went!

Table pose at Table Mountain!

At Oudekraal beach!

Shannon at Lion's Head!

Crow pose at Lion's Head!

I found my life motto at a market in Cape Town...

Oh my...utter bliss and sugar highs when we found this bakery! Charly's Bakery had the most colorful cupcakes and cheesecakes!

A Xhosa cooking lesson from Ivy, who attempted to teach us the clicks of the Xhosa language (which just left me slobbering all over the food)

My three favorite South Africans I met on this trip:

A grannie I shared a conversation with
that was pure laughter.

Chris taught me South African hop-scotch,
and Gracie gave me the best hugs ever!

And the vistas of Cape Town are absolutely stunning, whether you're hiking or paragliding or trying not to pee your pants!

Our flight back took 44 hours. No joke. 44 hours, but I at least got to escape into Paris for 2 hours during our layover!

Opera House in Paris

Almost...as tall...as the Eiffel!

Sunrise over the Seine!

Hey! Capital Bike Share in Paris!

Croissants and Cappucinos, wi wi, bonjour, nom nom!

We match!

And now, I'm back in DC! Spring semester has started, and I'm working for my dream organization, the UN Refugee Agency, this semester! I have to admit that I was quite thrilled to come home - I always miss my bed, Bart, and cooking and baking in my kitchen!

The Decade of (More) Eating, Traveling, Exploring, and Growing!

2013-01-04T16:11:00.000-05:00

I didn't make any New Year's resolutions this year. But, since I enter my wonderful 30s tomorrow, I figured I better set this decade off to a great start by listing my plans. It may turn into a rambling, exclamation-mark-filled post, but that's the way most of my monologues go, so here's to a sweet 3rd decade in pursuit of more happiness!

During my 30s, I will:

Travel to Argentina and Chile, hitting the Torres del Paine and Fitz Roy treks, Perito Moreno Glacier, and Tierra del Fuego!

Hey Bart, we're gonna wake up to this in our horizon very, very soon!

Learn the perfect balance of masala spices and master cooking Indian food!!

My first chapatti lesson

Not complain about my lack of power on the bike and get some quad power.

Not THAT huge!!! eeeewwwww...

Be more accepting and patient. I get easily annoyed at little kids who whine and people who don't know how to use the self check-out lanes in the grocery store. Frog Man at Washington-Lee pool who uses the whole lane even when he's supposed to share; people who don't offer me a bite of their dessert; dog-walkers who don't scoop the poop; cell phone addicts; FedEx packages that require a signature - all of these make me roll my eyes! Patience in my 30s...I can do this...
Listen to my mom when she tells me not to wear flip-flops in the winter. Apparently frostbite doesn't only happen on Everest.

Back when I was so young and naive...haha!!! Wearing my flip-flops around the Himalayas

Run smart. Too many injuries these past 3 years - and now that my hamstring is 98% healed, I'm loving morning runs too much to risk losing it again!
NomNomNom on Ice Cream!!!!

Embrace Diversity.
Wear more colorful underwear, just because it makes me happy.
Ignore Bart when he tells me to stop saying "I LOVE YOU!"
Tour through Italy and France on a culinary tour!!!
Become an economist.
Call my grandma on holidays, even if I only know how to say I love you, hello!, How are you, I am fine, I love dumplings, Happy Lunar New Year! in Chinese.
Learn how to make Chinese green onion cakes.
Use my ice cream maker more. Haagen Dazs and Ben and Jerry's is too easy - ready in a pint - but I need to experiment with homemade flavors!

There's plenty more, but it's 11pm in Cape Town, South Africa now, and I'm crashing. When I wake up, I'll be a withered and old 30-year-old. YAY!!!!

2012 Highlights

2012-12-31T19:00:00.001-05:00

Yes, I know, because isn't it so original to recap your year in a blogpost and tell the world how lucky I am to have such an amazing life! Some great memories as 2012 closes:

8. Eagleman: SUFFER-FEST and, even though I cursed the boiling sun, the no-hills-highways, and every single step of the half-marathon, in retrospect I am sososo proud of myself for crossing that finish line without wanting to quit triathlons forever. Too bad it sold out in 2013, I'd totally sign up for a suffer-fest repeat!

7. Healing hamstring! The past 2 months have been all about easing back into running - smartly - without letting my overzealousness for pain-free running take over. Afraid to jinx it, but I am quite confident that my year-long injury is history!!

6. Four new countries in 2012

Guatemala and El Salvador for work, surf lessons (or failure of), empanadas and churros, and volcano-hiking
Newfoundland for post-IM recovery and rejuvenation
South Africa for community outreach, gender equality and HIV/AIDS research, and bonding with amazing American University fellow students!

5. New triathlon training friends!! Widening the ever-growing circle of triathlon buddies - girls who eat dozens of cupcakes because we deserve it, people who make me laugh in the 9th hour of the Diabolical Double ride, people who plan their weekends around training rides and runs. We hang out in spandex, we wear underwear less often than we don't, and we write blogs about training and recovery because it's our life!

4. After seven years of putzing about in Jordan and the Himalayas, then finding a home in DC and settling into the monotony of spreadsheets, weekly meetings, and financial reports, I'm back in grad school and loving it. I forgot how much fun learning is, and I'm happy to say that my social circle includes more than just triathletes whose bedtime is 9pm!

3. Finally, finally tried the Lobster Roll truck in DC. Maine style, with a pickle on the side.

2. Bart. Enough said.

1. Ironman Lake Placid: I whimpered through the Three Bears climb on the bike and suffered through the marathon, but LP was an absolute blast. Hungry for more masochistic IM-distance races and even more so for redemption in the marathon. Already excited for next season and IM Mont Tremblant in August!

I seriously, seriously love my life. Can't wait to make even better memories next year! Kicking off 2013 tomorrow by visiting Robben Island, a World Heritage Site near Cape Town, South Africa, where Nelson Mandela and other political prisoners were held before the fall of apartheid. Then attempting a run to the top of Table Mountain!

Many Reasons to Smile

2012-12-21T14:55:00.000-05:00

I'm so happy.

I mean, like bursting with excitement!!!

OK...so yes, I know, I'm always screaming about something. But life is so wonderful...shouldn't every day be a celebration!?!?! Sometimes I get excited for no reason...but this winter, there are plenty of reasons for Mindy's happiness!

I got an internship with the UN Refugee Agency for the spring! My dream organization!!!

Snapple training camp at the Lost Barn! I should mention that this *may* be the year that my 650s make it up the backside of the Lost Barn. Or not. Either way, it'll get me in gear for the season!
I nailed down my 2013 tri schedule! So excited to race Monticelloman Half in May, Rev3's Quassy Half in June, and IMMT in August! Oh, yeah, and to CRUSH the Rapha Gentlemen's Race in true female fashion with Sarah, Caroline, and Katie...Diabolical Double, get ready for my 4mph hill-crushing speed! ha!

I got published! Here's my article on the Hill's Congress Blog!
I'll be in South Africa next week, studying gender equality, youth empowerment, and HIV/AIDS!

My hamstring is almost entirely healed (actually, it's my pes anserine, according to the chiropractor)!!! Running again feels soooo good.
aaaaannndddd...I'm eating a brownie with ice cream (vanilla bean, the simple life!!) right now - life doesn't get any better than this!

Off-Season Perks!

2012-12-14T12:01:00.001-05:00

Training is such a big part of my life from the spring until the summer that it's often a bit depressing when it's all over. I mean, what could be more fun than spending an ENTIRE Saturday on the bike in 120* heat, eating mocha gels and Lemon Zest Luna bars, hoping that you don't wake up the next morning with saddle sores?!?!? Or waking up at 6am so that you can rush to Master's swim practice, only to be lapped by high-schoolers? I miss those days!

But off-season definitely has its perks. Some habits I've recently picked up that'll be quite difficult to break come April:

I don't set an alarm anymore.

I have yet to swim over 2500 meters whenever I hit the pool since IMLP. My favorite swim set now is the classic 5-4-3-2-100. Done.
My hamstring is 98.7% healed! My weekly mileage is up to 15 miles and I'm impatient for my long runs to break the double-digit barrier!
The grocery budget has shrunk quite a bit since I don't feel the need to be munching on something every 20 minutes.
Scheduling a 2-week trip to South Africa doesn't come with the guilt of not being on my bike or in the pool for 2 weeks!

5 months saddle-sore-FREE!!!!
Did I mention my hamstring is almost as good as new!??!?!
Discovered cupcakes. I am that person who eats the top part with the frosting first, then finds the rest of the cupcake useless.

Haven't dealt with bike grease issues since Penelope is sitting on the trainer and hasn't been outside for 2 months!
The pool man still recognizes me, quite possible because the only Asians who go to my pool are me and an 80-year-old Chinese lady who shoots hoops in the shallow end with a tie-dye plastic ball.
Time to do stuff like this:

Read...and study...

Bake...lots...

Happy Hour with Dumplings and Mango Mojitos!

Plan to visit unexplored territories!

Chinese Idiosyncracies

2012-12-02T08:53:00.001-05:00

Yes, we Chinese are weird.

This is not a typical greeting, I promise!!!

Just reading the morning paper...

We're loud, we burp, we read a book backwards, and we have a habit of taking over neighboring territories. There's more to us than that!

You know you're Chinese when...

You use the dishwasher as a drying rack.
You prefer to eat noodles with sticks.
You slurp up the soup really, really obnoxiously loudly when all the noodles are gone.

You recycle sandwich bags - not for environmental reasons, but because you don't like paying for Ziplock bags.
You know exactly what I mean when I say we tie the "special knot" on our veggie and fruit plastic bags.
You don't allow shoes in the house.
You actually use the toothpicks in restaurants.
You think of fish balls like Americans think of chicken nuggets.

Dessert is red beans on top of shaved ice - and it's delicious.

Shaved ice, coconut milk, sweetened condensed milk, mango, and red beans...I salivate!

You laugh at American political jokes, but you don't really understand them.
You tip poorly.
You order family style at a restaurant.

You abhor the idea of all flavored teas. Black, green, and jasmine tea solve everything!
You ask the hotel for more of the sample shampoos and conditioners so you can use them at the gym.
You head straight to the clearance aisle whenever you shop.
When something surprises, shocks, or disappoints you, you find yourself tsk-ing and saying "ay-aaaaa."
You buy capris and wear them as pants.
You like fish with their heads on and soup with bone marrow.

Your face turns beet red with 2 ozs of any alcohol.

You'd be perfectly happy eating dumplings every single day of the week.
You think rice for breakfast is normal.
You shave maybe once a month.
You think ping pong is exciting.

You love to gamble, but only at the $5 minimum tables.
When you don't understand something, instead of asking politely "Can you repeat that?," you scream, "WHAAA?!"
Your grandma's house smells like mothballs.
Every event - reunion, Xmas, wedding, funeral - revolves around a multi-course meal.

Running Bliss!

2012-10-29T16:26:00.002-04:00

You want to know pure joy? Look at the runner at 0:33. He is so happy, he doesn't even care that the mud from the guy in front of him has splashed all over his chin.

And guess what!?!?!? I'm that guy now, three times a week!

That's right - I'm running again!

Since the last tri of the 2011 season, I've been devastatingly sidelined with a torn hamstring. After bouts of ART, PT, dry needling, and glute-strengthening exercises, I'm finally back on the running scene!

After Ironman Lake Placid in July this year, I took 7 whole weeks off of running per Bart's orders (he is the closest thing I have to a coach). If anyone needs a detailed outline of the different workouts available on the elliptical or Stairmaster, you know who to come to. I am your Guru.

It's been about 3 weeks now that I've been back on the running scene. No road races in sight; the only goal I have is to be healthy enough to run a marathon for IMMT in August 2013.

I absolutely love running again. Just strap on your shoes and get out the front door. No driving to the pool and sharing a lane with Ms. Pool Runner and Mr. Breaststroker. And no getting the bike ready by pumping up the tires and stocking up on nutrition and then fighting the honks from cars on MacArthur. Running is about simplicity and efficiency.

So happy to officially be a runner again!

The Next Big Adventure: South Africa!

2012-10-22T21:18:00.004-04:00

AAAAHHHHH! I'm so excited! My travel bug has been satiated yet again - and this time, I'm going to...

SOUTH AFRICA!!!

The only tiny negative drawback is that I'll miss 3 milestones with family and friends in the States:

My dad's birthday
New Year's
My and, obviously, my twin sister's birthday!

An authentic South African ice cream truck!

Oh well, they have cake and sparklers and ice cream in South Africa!

So here's the deal: I'll be in South Africa for 2 weeks this winter, studying the issues of gender equality, youth empowerment, and HIV/AIDS in the context of ubuntu, a community-centered approach that focuses on the interrelationships among people.

Yeah, doesn't that sound so much better than freezing my butt off in DC, standing on top of a car, scraping chunks of snow off so that I can drive around at 10 mph on roads that never got rock-salted!?!?!?

Snowmageddon

Maybe these kids will let me ride their bikes
so I can keep up with training?

I could start packing today, I'm that excited! I wrote an overflowing-with-exclamation-marks letter to the Poynter Endowment Fund, thanking them for my big surprise grant for travel expenses! I mean, who doesn't love the gift of grant money!?!?

That's my big news! What's yours?!?!

The Motion Movement - Snapple/DC Tri and the Youth Community!

2012-10-05T10:00:00.000-04:00

The DC Tri/Snapple Triathlon Team was invited to speak at Arlington's highlighted school for Bike/Walk to School Day: Oakridge Elementary. Along with local ultra-marathon celebrity Mike Wardian, AJ Morrison and I greeted the pre-K to 5th graders who arrived on scooters, 2- or 4-wheeled bikes, or their own two feet. Some kids rode on bikes with pink sparkly tassles; others wore those sneakers that light up with each step.

Gathering for the morning assembly!

Each year, Arlington hosts a Bike/Walk to School Day to encourage healthy modes of transport and organize bike- and walk-pools so that kids clustered in a neighborhood can bike or walk to school with designated parents The morning assembly kicked off with Mike, AJ, and I leading short exercises and talking to the kids about the importance of daily exercise and participation in sports.

The students had prepared a wonderful surprise for us: a dance to the hip-hop song that goes, "I throw my hands up in the air sometimes, going AYO..." - you know what I'm talking about! So hilarious to see the entire school syncing their dance moves to the tunes of Taio Cruz!!!

Clearly, they had practiced their dance moves and were proud to be debuting them!

AJ and I visited the first graders, who asked questions like "How can I get on TV like you?", "Were you in the Olympics?", and "Will you be in the next Olympics?" I could see the dripping disappointment on their faces when we both said that we weren't (and most likely will not be!) Olympians! We managed to steer them towards more realistic conversations about maintaining a healthy lifestyle continuing to bike or walk to school throughout the school year, and their favorite sports. Soccer was a popular one for this class!

I love the kid cheering for taking a picture!

What a blast to visit these kids! So wonderful to engage with the youth community and hear students bragging that they can run 200 miles (one girl claimed that she could beat Mike Wardian!) and have others tell us that they plan to compete in triathlons in the future! Looks like we better watch out for some motivated youngsters from Arlington to emerge in the triathlon world!!

Full article here: http://www.arlnow.com/2012/10/03/photos-walk-and-bike-to-school-day-in-arlington/?utm_source=ARLnow.com+Afternoon+Update&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=bce27d62ce-ARLnow.com+Afternoon+Update

TAcademia: Transitioning back to school!

2012-09-24T11:20:00.000-04:00

I'm back in school! That's right, I dropped the dry-cleaned pants and collared shirt for a bookbag and a writing callus!

And it feels goooood to be learning again!

It hasn't quite translated to what I had hoped would be 6-hour training blocks in the afternoon; I'm busier than when I worked full-time. My last race of the 2012 season was IMLP, so I guess I don't really need to be logging in huge training hours yet!
And IM Mont-Tremblant is still 11 months away, so I've got time to figure it all out :)

Here's the brief run-down:

I'll be a nerd for 2 years.
I'm getting my Master's in International Development (yeah, that whole Peace Corps influence thing) and Development Economics.
OK - yes, I know. Mindy? Economics? Pretty soon I hope to be understanding a little more than basic supply and demand and the Keynesian theory...

Where do I live these days? This building:

AU's School of International Service - it's got a LEED Gold Certification!

And yes, I'm still working: the dough's gotta keep rolling in! I got a pretty awesome fellowship and spend my days working for an amazing professor and heading a research project focused on multi-stakeholder participation in global governance processes. In short, I will be Master and Guru of what is now a totally incomprehensible data analysis software gigathingamabobber. heehee
I found a new pool to swim at! AU has a great indoor facility, so I usually jump in on an afternoon study break and slam out a couple of 500s. Oh, and it's pretty much a guarantee that I have the lane to myself, which is always nice!
AU has a Farmer's Market on Wednesdays!
Most of my entertainment is spent watching undergrads go to class in high heels and type away on their iPads with manicured fingers. My, how times have changed. When I was an undergrad...
I absolutely love my professors. And most of my classmates, except those who are super-in-your-face competitive or the ones who recite the stamps on their passports. People are amazing. I may just have friends who stay up past 10 pm once the semester is over!

So the AU campus is my second home for the next 2 years. I can't believe I waited this long to go back to school!

Happiness is...

2012-09-12T08:57:00.000-04:00

1. Ice Cream - slightly melted (current favorite flavors: Volun-Tiramisu (only at Target!) and Breyer's Black Raspberry Chocolate)

Cold Stone Creamery...with crushed waffle cones...nomnomnom

2. Waking up NOT to an alarm

3. Friends from high school and college who keep in touch

4. Getting a compliment from a stranger

5. Listening to music that makes me smile and belt the lyrics (most recently, that 80s song that goes "I would walk 500 miles")

6. Watching Rudisha win the 800 meters and break the world record

I cried when he crossed the finish line!

7. Swim workouts when I feel like a fish

8. Swimming at Haines Point
9. Running again! (this will hopefully come in mid-October...boy, do I miss it!)
10. A grilled cheese sandwich after a workout

Nothing beats melted cheese between carbs!

11. Learning again - hello, Master's program!

Happy to be a student again!

12. Eating the batter before putting the brownies or blueberry bread in the pan

My one day as a chef in the Peace Corps...

13. Finishing a book

14. Getting paper mail that isn't a credit card offer

15. Indian curries with naan

Banana Leaf Thali in southern India

16. Clean bedsheets

17. Road trips anywhere with Bart...even to the local post office.
18. Getting licked between the toes by a dog

19. Air-conditioning in the summer and central heating in the winter

20. Coffee with cream and sugar anytime of the day
21. A PR
22. Cheese and (real) french bread
23. When airplane flights have Fresca
24. Traveling with my red backpack

Hiking through the Himalayas in 2008

25. Sushi - but not with kani

Raw tuna, anyone??!?!

26. Finishing a sweaty ride and saying "YES!" when Bart asks if I crushed it

27. Chinese hot pot in the winter
28. Sleeping naked
29. Freshly shaved legs
30. Booking a ticket somewhere new
31. Mountains and altitude

Summit of Pisco - my first climb with an ice-axe!

32. the Ko Family

33. Learning new languages
34. Good Karma
35. Black seedless grapes and watermelon
36. A new recipe success

37. Sunglasses and goggles that fit my nose

38. Laughing at myself

39. Bart putting up with my cuddly antics when I pretend to watch a movie

40. Kids waving back to me in the schoolbus
41. The color Yellow
42. Coconut sticky rice with mangoes
43. Childhood memories: roadtrips to Vegas, hitting my mom with tennis balls, walking to the library and Arby's every day in the summer with Phebe, skiing at Brighton and Snowbird, and our luxury dining nights of Sizzler or Olive Garden

44. Window-shopping at Williams-Sonoma
45. Falling asleep next to and waking up with someone I love

North to Newfoundland

2012-08-29T23:55:00.008-04:00

After our recovery week from Ironman Lake Placid, we needed someplace cool...no humidity...plenty of coastline and hikes...possibly some icebergs in mid-August...and we wouldn't mind seeing some moose and dolphins while we were at it!

So it was off to Newfoundland for a last-bash summer vacation!

(and if you're only interested in the pictures, just skip everything below and click here.)

First stop: Leisurely (read: BORING) St. John's. OK, OK - I will give the city the kudos it deserves. But since I hate museums, and Bart wanted to run everywhere, we spent the day on our feet, dashing from site to site, chasing each other and dodging senior tourists from Ontario.

View from one of the mountains we ran up: the outskirts of St. John's below!

Chasing Bart on our run through St. John's

So many swimming holes everywhere in St. John's...
and noone in them!

Want to know how far New York is from
Signal Hill in St. John's?

Overlooking Notre Dame Bay

We drove west to Twillingate the next day - this is where the real fun and scenery began!

Runs through town, which happened to be just slightly larger than a village, took us up to random spots like this high rocky point, overlooking Notre Dame Bay. The weather was spectacular - clear skies and cool temps (compared to DC's 100+* heat!).

We did the obligatory boat tour in Twillingate - because of the record high temps this year, there were no icebergs in the bay this year. We did, however, spot several minke whales during our boat trip!

Our cozy bed and breakfast was right on the water - and within walking distance of the town's ice cream shop!

Minke Whale off the coast of Twillingate! Hello, flipper!

Twillingate Harbour

Some Newfoundland pride on our boat!

Twillingate's rocky coastline

Check out the names on these fruit wines!

We hooked up with a local fisherman, who took us out on his boat to catch some cod. I had imagined myself reeling in huge fish, but it wasn't that dramatic; there is no technique to cod fishing. Really, anyone can do it: unwind your twine cord, drop the steel anchor down, and wait. When you feel a tug, roll up the twine.

Fish are not the prettiest creatures, but they sure are tasty! Our fisherman host filleted our catch, and for the next 7 days, our styrofoam cooler traveled with us.

There were endless ways to experiment with my fresh cod filets. Once I crumbled BBQ Lay's over the filet and grilled it - not such a great combination. Another night, I dipped my cod in a packet of chicken seasoning that came with my Ramen noodles - pretty delicious! But the best recipe was just plain pepper and salt, slap that filet on the grill, and serve it with a side of grilled cheese sandwiches!

Next up: the highlight of the entire trip - Gros Morne National Park! Gros Morne is a World Heritage site lining the west coast of Newfoundland, and it was full of green, green, green!

We started off with a couple of hikes from a small town called Woody Point. Our first was a no-elevation, maybe 4-mile hike to the Tablelands. I was unimpressed, but apparently there's some pretty cool geological history to this whole area! I just wanted to hike up mountains, not down in valleys!

Tablelands hike...reminds me of Moab, UT!

Fording the river running out to Bonne Bay

We hopped in the car and drove 15 minutes to our next hike: Green Gardens Trail. I convinced Bart that we had enough water (1.5 L) and food (2 Nature Valley granola bars) to last us the entire hike.

I was wrong.

About a third of the way through the hike, I quickly realized that I was thirsty. But I couldn't drink, because our 1.5 L of water was rationed with a scrutinizing eye.

And then, at the halfway point, I was starving. My granola bar had done nothing but remind me how good food tasted, and I tried to pretend I wasn't a hungry and grouchy Mindy. I don't think I fooled Bart.

But even when you're starving and dehydrated and hot and sweaty, how can you not shout out, "I LOVE LIFE!" when you stumble onto an empty beach?

"I love YOU and LIFE, Bart!" shouts the overzealous photographer as she snaps a picture...

or when you come across 2 red lawn chairs sitting at the top of a cliff overlooking Bonne Bay?

I mean, check out our rest stop!! As cheesy as it sounds, the sound of waves crashing, the view of the endless ocean, and the simple pleasure of enjoying nature to a point only feet can bring you to...makes me...HAPPY.

After surviving the Green Gardens Trail, we drank about 5 gallons of water each and stuffed our faces with potato chips and apples. Later that night, we enjoyed a well-earned meal of Ramen noodles, stovetop rice, and - what else!!! - grilled cod.

Our next stop took us a bit deeper into the park to the picturesque town of Rocky Harbour.

Western Brook Pond - a cliff diver's dream!

And, because every local and tourist we ran into said this was an absolute must-do, we took the Western Brook Pond Boat Tour. It was pretty spectacular - a Canadian fjord surrounded by steep rock walls more than 2,000 feet high. The entire lake had been carved from the surrounding plateaus by glaciers. Pretty amazing!

Later that afternoon, we headed over to Shallow Bay Cove to hopefully get in an open-water swim. Well, the cove is aptly named because the water doesn't seem to get any deeper than my ankles. We ended up reading on the beach and dipping in our feet before agreeing that face-planting into the sandy bottom wouldn't be any fun.

Next up: Baker's Brook Waterfalls Trail. And yes, I know...we did a lot of hiking!

Final stop in our adventures through Gros Morne National park was Gros Morne Mountain. It's only the second highest peak in the park, but beats 'em all for its panoramic views of the valleys below.

On the way up to the peak!

Pretty spectacular lakes everywhere in Gros Morne!

Our perfect lunch spot!

Yeah, I know...epic.

After leaving Gros Morne, we decided to play it low-key and hit up the towns of Trinity and BonaVista. From Trinity, we hiked the Skerwink Trail, which hugged the coastline the entire time!

On towards Elliston Island, where we made friends with puffins!

That's a puffin perched there!

Love the color of the water off of Elliston Island!

Elliston Island is also the root cellar capital of the world - see those tiny storage units built into the hill? The villagers store their vegetables and roots in these damp cellars year-round!

On our way back to St. John's, we stayed in Witless Bay. Of course, we found a way to throw in a hike and got to do a small leg of the East Coast Trail!

Skipping rocks - record was 8 hops!

And to wrap up our final day in Newfoundland, we stumbled into a movie set: they were blowing up cars in the streets of St. John's!

Now, it's back to the Real World. We can't live like retired travelers forever!

Check out Newfoundland garbage cans - protected from the bears!

And one night, Bart wrote what I thought would be a love message on my foot...and then on my toe...

Photo album from our Newfoundland trip here!

Ironman Lake Placid

2012-07-27T10:00:00.002-04:00

How do you write about an Ironman race in one blog post? How do you explain to people - parents who think this is a "healthy hobby", or co-workers who think this is just what you do instead of Margarita Hours - that Ironman is an obsession...a 10-month ordeal that involves more than just swimming, biking, and running?

Ironman Lake Placid was so much more than a singular race on July 22, 2012. There was the high a month before the race, when I conquered the Diabolical Double with Sarah and Caroline and realized that my legs wouldn't fall off after 10+ hours of cycling.

Then there was the supreme depression when I got hit by a car 10 days before the race, emerging with bruises, allegations of breaking her headlight, and a very unfortunate loss of confidence on the bike.

What a journey!

But I made it. I made it to Lake Placid, bursting with excitement...peeing my wetsuit in sheer joy.

If I could draw a picture of what the entire weekend was like, it'd be this:

It hurts, but I can't stop smiling!

The entire month leading up to Placid, I was smiling and glowing with excitement. I checked lake temps daily, cleaned my bike chain until it reflected my image, and test-ran on the healing quads. I even cut ice cream out of my daily diet, although Bart caught me cheating ~~nightly~~ several times.

The night before the race, I couldn't sleep. No surprise. 4:30 am finally came, and I immediately stuck my timing chip on. Not gonna leave that behind!
Breakfast of 2 bagels with PB, took the pre-race dump, and we were out the door. What perfect temperatures - the morning was slightly chilly, but the sky looked clear. Today was gonna be awesome.

Gear bags triple-checked; bike nutrition secured; wetsuit, goggles, and pink cap in hand - Let's Go!

Bart and I secured each other in our wetsuits and did the ol' good luck kisses. I found Caroline just as I entered the water, and we did the "OMG this is it! We are 2 girls and let's jump in the water and kiss each other on the cheek!" ordeal in genuine excitement.

The water was the perfect temperature with a wetsuit on, and I quickly warmed it up a bit more by you-know-what-ing. The cannon for the pros went off, and I felt a surge of adrenaline as I made my way to a good position about 20 feet from the dock, 2nd line back. This was it! 10 months of training and dedication, boiling down to today! There's something magical about treading water with 2,500 other triathletes, all our heads bobbing up and down, fixated on Mike Reilly, assessing which feet among the front line you want to catch and draft off of.

The Swim: How many gallons can I swallow without puking?

Race cannon went off at 7 am, and I turned my gear to ON. Burst out, quickly run over by some Clydesdale behind me, and promptly had a panic attack.

Swim Start at 7 am!

WTF!?! This was not supposed to happen! I was supposed to be charging forward, not fighting to breathe and struggling not to get run over!

The 2-loop swim course at Placid is lined by a cable about 5 feet below the water's surface. It's obvious from the picture to the right what this creates: a whitewater fury to fight for the best possible position just above the cable. Let me tell you, 5-foot Asians do not win these wars against behemoths who grab at my ankles and clobber my face with their fists of incompetency.

Well, I did what saved me when I suffered from the same hyperventilation in Columbia: I flipped over onto my back and tried to just calm my breathing. It took me the better bit of nearly 800 meters to finally calm down enough to flip over and attempt a slow and methodical freestyle. To be honest, I doubt the backstroke hurt me by more than a minute; the draft was so strong in the first lap that each stroke carried me almost double the normal pull.

Even during the second loop, the fight for the cable continued to be relentless. I must have swallowed about 24 oz of Mirror Lake water. Just boxed in, sitting in the draft of whomever wouldn't kick me in the noggin.

Finally, I heard Mike Reilly's voice yelling splits to those emerging from the water. Just 50 more meters...25...10...To be honest, I was a bit relieved to be out of the water. Swimming is my strongest leg of the three, but swallowing all that lake water made me burpy, and I wasn't too keen on the thought of being in that whitewater mess for any longer than necessary.

2.4-mile Swim: 59:29
4th AG, 23rd Female

Lessons Learned from the Swim:

Recalibrate quickly from panic attacks by finding Zen in backstroke...but find it faster than 800 meters.
Learn to dolphin-dive. In Placid, you exit the water after the first loop and run for about 10 meters on sandy beach before re-entering the water for the second loop. I ended up bellyflopping because my ballet skills from 20 years ago have long since left me. Maybe the fact that I take 2 steps and am crotch-deep in water is also a reason for my ungraceful water entry...

Big kudos to my dimpled Xterra Vendetta for helping me break the hour barrier!

I ran into transition and stripped down, apologizing to the 2 wonderful volunteers who were helping me. "Sorry I'm flashing my cootch in your face, and thank you, and you both are wonderful, and can I have a cup of water, and oh wow, you already got my wetsuit and goggles in the bag? OK, I'm off! See you in 7 hours!"

A Rollercoaster Ride on my Bicycle

I grabbed my P2, which had been released from the bike shop just a week earlier due to damages from my accident. I was ready to rock n' roll this bike course! My tentative goal was 7 hours, with maybe a stop or 2 for back stretches and refueling if absolutely necessary. Despite some teammates telling me that wearing my cycling shorts with the thicker chamois would only waste time in transition, my butt was quite thankful for the extra cushioning.

The first 7 miles of the 2-loop course takes you along the ridge with a minor hill, but then bombs down into Keene. This descent was FUN! I'm not quite bad-ass enough to go in my aero bars and NOT touch the brakes on steep descents, but I'd like to think that I got some free speed as I screeched my way around corners (with dudes bombing past me at 45 mph).

Fast forward 40 miles to the "Three Bears" - three climbs that take you back up to Placid. I don't know where the climbs really began, I was having so much fun. I rode for a bit with a guy who introduced himself as Chip Berry's friend, exchanged some exclamation-filled sentences with Caroline when she passed me, and generally was pleased that not too many of the chicks blowing by me had 25-29 on their calves.

The final mile climb back into town made me feel like I was wearing the yellow jersey at the Tour de France. Seriously.

People were yelling at me, screaming that I was amazing and awesome and almost there, and I couldn't stop smiling. They ran alongside me, chanting my name (written on each race bib), shaking their fists in my face. I laughed. I didn't even feel the hills. I think my idiot smile goaded them more, because the more I smiled, the louder they got.

The second loop was...sigh...disappointing. Around mile 60, I was disgusted at what I'd packed in my bento box. "I don't want another Clif Block! I hate HoneyStinger chews! Stupid Clif bars!! My EFS flask tastes like sh*#!!" Luckily, the aid stations came about every 10 miles, and I happily grabbed bananas and stuffed them into my mouth. On any other day, I think bananas are only good for making banana bread, but when you're on the fourth hour of a very hot and long day, your ass melded to a bicycle seat, a banana is the PERFECT way to get calories.

As I was slogging up a hill at about mile 90, some guy passed me, turned around, and yelled in my face, "Filipina?" I was so confused. Clearly, he was talking to me. I screamed back at him, "I'm Chinese." And he looked so disappointed.

I hit the low at about mile 92, when all I wanted to do was get my butt out of the saddle, and have a dripping ice cream in a waffle cone hand-dipped in chocolate while relaxing in Mirror Lake. The last 20 miles passed by so slowly - I ignored the beautiful scenery and just tried to get to transition as fast as I could. I ended up meeting Melanie Yu along the rolling hills, and finished up the bike with her. We grumbled about how long the last stretch was. Finally, the Three Bears popped into view. Up, up, up, I climbed...and the same cheer crew stuck their faces into my line of vision and rang cowbells.
This time, however, I was a lot less cheerful and bubbly.

Finally...transition! Here we go! I didn't even wait to get into the changing tent to take off my bike shoes. Stripped those off and walked across the gravel to hop into my running shorts!

112-Mile Bike: 6:41:30
8th AG, 111th Female

Lessons Learned from the Bike:

New goal set for next year: Learn to bike and learn to crush hills! I dropped in place and confidence as the 112 miles wore on...I'm not sure whether I need a quad injection or to increase my cadence...hopefully I'll figure it out by next season!
Salt tabs are key. I took one every hour in the first loop, then every 45 minutes during the second loop - I am pretty certain that without the salt tabs, I would have emerged a lot more dehydrated.
Keep smiling - the volunteers and race supporters love it!
Eat, eat, eat. Even when I didn't want another Shot Block or swig of my EFS flask, I knew that I'd hate life during the marathon if I didn't load up on the calories on the bike! Thanks to Snapple teammate Matias for my nutrition advice on the bike!

Emerged from transition with a fresh pair of run shorts, and decided that a 20-second stop in the Port-a-Potty would be worth it. Even though I drank 6 water bottles of fluid during the bike, I hadn't peed once. Not once in 7 hours. I know, right!??!!? Where did it all go!!?!

My First Marathon:

13 Miles of Stomach Cramps, 10 Miles of Walking, and 3 Miles of Grit

Can you tell which one is me!?!?!
Hint: I apparently don't know where my eye holes belong.

My twin sister makes marathons look easy. Since we are twins, then by the Law of Substitution, the following should be true:

Identical twins are (more or less) equal.

Mindy and Phebe are twins.

Mindy = Phebe.

Phebe runs 2:45 marathons.

Therefore, Mindy should be able to run a 2:45 marathon.

However, once you introduce the following, the above may not hold true:

Mindy has been injured the past year: hamstring (pulled), knee (weird pain on outside), and quad (hit by car on bike).
Mindy's longest training run was 13 miles.
Mindy weighs 15 pounds more than Phebe.
Mindy has a run form that is known to others as the EVIL HEEL STRIKE.

So, it should have been no surprise when I broke down at mile 5 of the run. But it was a surprise. I thought, or rather desperately hoped, that I would somehow find the will to run the entire marathon in under 4 hours. I guess I am just that optimistic.

Miles 1-5: I valiantly ignored the baby in my belly. No, idiot, I didn't get knocked up! My belly was bloated with gels and shot blocks and Clif bars that didn't digest properly on the bike. It's a horrible feeling to run when your stomach is protruding, you're actually trying to fart so some of this gas will be released, and your feet feel like wooden blocks. But, at least I was running.

Miles 6-10: Suffering hit me. I decided that I'd walk all the aid stations and tried to settle my still-swollen belly. I farted a couple of times, and pretended like it was my feet scuffling the ground, heehee. My mood picked up a bit when I saw my training friend Caroline out there. Bart and Snapple teammate Erik were killing the course - both of them looked strong. I exchanged high-fives with John Schaller, who was also doing his first Ironman. I couldn't even muster sucking down another gel, so I took in Coke, water, and some deliciously salty chicken broth.

Miles 11-13: The route rolled back through town, taking you up 3 pretty steep hills. I gritted my teeth and started to run again - I didn't want Bart's nieces Coco and Avery to ask why I had "given up!" Ran through town, made it around the corner, and promptly started to walk. Out of sight, I was left to that demeaning voice that yells, "Why did you sign up for an Ironman? Why did you think this would be any fun? Why do you listen to those idiot masochists who have IM tattoos? You...will...pay..."

Put a smile on my face when I ran over this!

Miles 14-23: Every single step hurt. I'd muster up my feet, do a little hoppy dance, and start to run, but as the pain started to shoot up my quads, and the injury on my right knee grew agonizingly unbearable, and my feet swelled from the heat, I conceded to walking. I didn't care anymore. There, I said it: I didn't care if my marathon time was 6 hours, or if I had to walk the rest of this - in the moment, I just wanted the pain from the pounding to disappear.

Snapple fans along the course!

My stomach was still a knotted mess. It never quite settled down and I felt like a vomit or a huge poop mid-race would do wonders for me, but neither happened. My stomach was swollen from the nutrition on the bike, and I didn't take in any nutrition on the entire run course besides liquids and a bite of a cookie. I just didn't want anything in my stomach.

Now, a week later, I'm kicking myself for not having gritted my teeth and just sucked up the pain. That's what Ironman is about, right? Ignoring the pain from pushing yourself at moderate pace for 12+ hours? I'm so mad that I walked 10 miles of the race, so mad that I simply stopped caring about the time on the clock, so mad that I didn't even find motivation as I saw Erik, Bart, John, Caroline, and Melanie running. They were running! And I was walking.

Misery loves company, and I quickly made friends with an old guy. When I say old, I mean about 65 years old (and that is being gracious). Jim Adams was amazing, and we quickly found walking partners in each other. Jim has done Eagleman the past 19 years and IM Lake Placid every single year. He assured me that walking was not quitting, but warned me that once I entered the Olympic Oval, I'd better run, because noone walks through that finish.

When I saw the Mile 23 sign, I announced to Jim that I needed to run this last 5K. He announced to a sideline cheerleader that I was going to run. "She's going to start running!" announced the sideline cheerleader to his dog on a leash. Soon, Jim and my cheerleader were sending me off with good vibes.

Mile 24-25: Whence the Runneth Commence.
My run felt like I was hobbling along at a 12:00-min pace. Every step hurt, but as I started to climb that 2nd hill into town, I felt like I was the women's leader in the Boston Marathon. Sure, I was just some first-timer who had managed to muster up just enough of a foot lift to stimulate a run, but people were yelling at me, chanting, "Up! Up! Up!"
I smiled, and these people must have been met with a lot of gloom and glares, because as soon as they saw my tired smile, they yelled louder. They screamed my name. So this is what makes Lake Placid so great! Why weren't these cheerleaders at Mile 15 of the run? I wish I had paid them to stand along the entire course!

Mile 26: I run with another 65-year-old.
Right around the last turnaround, I caught a very wrinkly man who was clipping along at a very decent pace for any age. I came up behind him, and asked whether he was on his first or second loop. He gave me the answer I wanted, and I exclaimed, "That's perfect! Let's run together!"
He grumbled, "OK" and picked up his pace a bit.
We ran side-by-side for a minute, then I caught sight of a girl in my AG who had passed me while I was walking at Mile 15. "Let's catch that girl in the pink who's walking - she's in my AG and I just need to pass her," I told my new friend.
He grumbled, "OK" and picked up his pace a bit.
I followed suit, and soon we passed her...and then another girl in my AG!
"Look, we're almost to the oval!" I exclaimed to my new friend. "Let's pass that guy."
He grumbled, "OK" and picked up his pace a bit.

We entered the oval and that old man took off. Thanks for running with me for a mile, Gramps!

I started to tear up because so many people were cheering for ME. I started to give high-fives, and I couldn't stop smiling. Hello, everyone, did you know that I'm about to be an Ironman!?!?!?!

Heard Bart's voice somewhere near the finish line. Crossed that finish line and was promptly sandwiched by 2 volunteers, who seemed very concerned that they should carry me and wrap me in an aluminum foil blanket. "I don't need that," I convinced them.

I was so, so, so happy to be done! Finished off with a chocolate milk and hugged Caroline, kissed Bart, and, as I was walking through to get my 3 jugs of chocolate milk, ran into my pal Gramps and several others I had seen along the course.

26.2-Mile Run: 5:06:10

Lessons Learned from the Run:

Getting in the long runs is crucial.
You can't wing a marathon.
If 70-year-olds can do it, so can I.
Suck it up and pick your feet up.

Ironman Lake Placid: 12:57:31

12th AG, 160th Female

Wrapped up the night by stumbling back to our rented house, wrapped up race details with Ken-Ichi and Bart, and got a nice steamy shower.

Last Finisher to enter the Oval, aided by his
entourage of family and friends.

Post-race EatFest was a pizza and an enormous ice-cream sundae in a waffle cone. I met the wonderful crew of IMLP racers at the midnight finish, and we cheered the last finishers through while stuffing our faces with wonderful chocolate cake.

The days following IMLP, I was in a slump. A depression. Girlfriends consoled me that this was typical, and I was experiencing post-IM depression (not to be confused with post-partum depression!). It was over; all my training, all the early mornings, all the 6-hour bike rides in 100-degree heat...it had all ended!

I didn't have the race I wanted. I've already heard the "it was your first, don't be too hard on yourself" BS. I know all this, and I quietly nod my head, but deep down, I really wanted to do better. I wanted to be able to mentally block out the pain, to run just a little faster, to at least be able to say "I couldn't walk for 5 days after because I pushed myself so hard."

And I know that the only way to fill this void, to cure this post-IM depression, is to sign up for another Ironman. Boy, this "healthy hobby" is addicting!

Goals for 2013 Tri Season:

Run healthy and injury-free.
Learn to turn that heel strike into a mid-foot power action.
Get some power on the bike.
Figure out a nutrition plan that my stomach can digest.
Avoid the panic attacks in the water.
Keep on smiling.

Finally, the shout-outs and thank-yous:

What colorful signs by the nieces!

Bart: You make each day happier than yesterday.
Dotty, Bill, Avery, Coco, Ally, Eddie, and Pre: Thanks for the cheers, the sidewalk chalk, and the wonderful support on race day! We love you!

Caroline: seeing you on the bike and run gave a little pep to my feet and put a smile on my face!
Ken-Ichi: Redemption in Vegas 70.3 Worlds.
Sarah and Katie: couldn't ask for better training partners!
The Ko Family: Wo ai ni. Hopefully the next Ironman races I do, you'll be at the sidelines!
Matias: My nutrition guru!
The Ice-Cream Man at Stewart's: For digging me extra big scoops for my post-race dessert!
The Snapple Tri Team: Lost Barn rides, the best tri family ever, and a special kudos to AJ, Phil, and Sean, for giving me super tips on LP!

And huge congrats to fellow teammates Erik Reitinger, Bart Forsyth, and Kate Galinus, who all had amazing races at IMLP!

IMLP Racers at the Midnight Finish!

Next Big Adventure: 2 weeks in Newfoundland, hiking through coasts and drifting next to icebergs!

To all First-time Ironmen

2012-07-16T10:09:00.000-04:00

As it winds down to the final week before Ironman Lake Placid, I'm filled with all kinds of excitement. Maybe this is what all first-time Ironmen experience, and it dies down the more you do these events? I mean, is it sane or even healthy to wake up every morning and think, "One day closer 'til I race IMLP!" and to be absolutely bursting with happiness at the thought of running a marathon after swimming 2.4 miles and biking 112 miles?

I was in a bike accident last week when a car drove straight into me. I escaped with no broken bones - collarbone and wrists are, thankfully, still in one piece! My bike had to go to the hospital, aka bike shop, for 3 days, but when I heard the news from my now-favorite bike mechanic that I would be able to ride my same bike for Placid, I was ecstatic.

The swelling bruises on my quads have prevented me from running, but I've been able to hop back on my good-as-new bike, and I've been swimming with a green kitchen glove in attempts to keep the gaping cuts from gravel on my hand somewhat dry (Note to others: this does not work).

But the great news - the absolutely fucking fantastic news - is that I will be racing Ironman Lake Placid! And, in a glass-half-full approach, this accident came at an opportune time: TAPER. I can't run, and I've had to drastically cut my swim workouts not because I know I should be tapering, but because the green kitchen glove is not waterproof and swimming in dirty pool water is probably not the best recovery atmosphere for a gaping cut.

I came across an inspirational blog post (copied below) through the wonderful world of Facebook. And I loved it. It speaks to all first-time Ironmen, and it highlights the 6-10 months of training that we've all put in for a one-day sufferfest. Here it is - thanks for letting me repost, Richard! And I can't wait to race IMLP on Sunday!

From Richard's blog, Running Into Life: http://intotransition.blogspot.com/

I did not write this. It was sent to me, by a dear friend, before I did my first IM, and I've seen various versions circulating about the internet since that time. It still gives me goosebumps when I read it. This event is not about some name brand. It is about the training: the blood, sweat and tears and everything that goes into the process of preparing to be ready for starting and finishing 140.6 miles.

SUMMARY OF IRONMAN
So without further adieu, to those of you heading to Ironman - to the IM-Virgins, the veterans, and everyone in-between... Right now you've entered the taper. Perhaps you've been at this a few months, perhaps you've been at this a few years. For some of you this is your first IM, for others, a long-overdue welcome back to a race that few can match. You've been following your schedule to the letter. You've been piling on the mileage, piling up the laundry, and getting a set of tan lines that will take months or more to erase. Long rides were followed by long runs, which both were preceded by long swims, all of which were followed by recovery naps that may have been longer than you slept for any given night during college.

You swam in the cold. You rode in the rain. You ran in the heat. You went out when others stayed home. You rode the trainer when others pulled the covers over their heads. You have survived the Darwinian progression that is Ironman training, and now the hardest days are behind you.

Like a climber in the Tour de France coming over the summit of the penultimate climb on an alpine stage, you've already covered so much ground...there's just one more climb to go. You shift up, you take a drink, you zip up the jersey; the descent lays before you...and it will be a fast one. Time that used to be filled with never-ending training will now be filling with silent muscles, taking their final, well-earned rest. While this taper is something your body desperately needs, your mind, cast off to the background for so very long, will start to speak to you. It won't be pretty. It will bring up thoughts of doubt, pain, hunger, thirst, failure, and loss. It will give you reasons why you aren't ready. It will try and make one last stand to stop you, because your brain doesn't know what the body already does.

Your body knows the truth: you are ready. Your brain won't believe it. It will use the taper to convince you that this is foolish - that there is too much that can go wrong.

You are ready. Finishing an Ironman is never an accident. It's the result of dedication, focus, hard work, and belief that all the long runs in January, long rides in April, and long swims every $#% week will be worth it. It comes from getting on the bike, day in, day out. It comes from long, solo runs. From that first long run where you wondered, "How will I ever be ready?" to the last long run where you smiled to yourself with one mile to go...knowing that you'd found the answer. It is worth it. Now that you're at the taper, you know it will be worth it. The workload becomes less. The body winds up and prepares, and you just need to quiet your worried mind. It is not easy, but you can do it.

You are ready. You will walk into the water with 2000 other wide-open sets of eyes. You will look upon the sea of humanity, and know that you belong. You'll feel the chill of the water crawl against your skin, and shiver like everyone else, but smile because the day you have waited for, for so VERY long, is finally here. You will tear up in your goggles. The helicopter will roar overhead. The splashing will surround you. You'll stop thinking about Ironman, because you're now racing one. The swim will be long - it's long for everyone, but you'll make it. You'll watch as the final shoreline grows and grows, and soon you'll hear the end. You'll come up to the edge and head for the ladder. You may have to wait for someone to get off that sucker before you, but you will get your turn.

You’ll find your transition bag—don’t worry about the sea of bags the same color, someone is there to help you--and run off to prepare for the bike (don’t forget the sunscreen, pick a volunteer near the end!). You may not always realize just what is happening but you won't wipe the smile off your face for anything and you'll settle down to your race. The crowds will spread out on the road. You'll be on the bike, eating your food on your schedule, controlling your Ironman. The site of a seemingly unlimited line of bikes before you and behind you is a site to behold. You'll start to feel that morning sun turn to afternoon sun. It's warmer now. Maybe it's hot—there’s shade in the tree cover at times. Maybe you're not feeling so good now. You'll keep riding. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep moving. After all, this is just a long training day with valet parking and catering, right? Your training got you this far—TRUST IT NOW!

You'll put on your game face, fighting the urge to slow down as you ride for what seems like hours, well it is for hours but you’ve practiced this many times in training. You reach Special Needs, maybe you’ll stop a bit to fuel up, and head out again. By now it'll be hot and you'll be tired. Doubts will fight for your focus. Everyone struggles here. You've been on that bike for a few hours, and stopping would be nice, but you won't - not here, not today. You'll grind the false flats to the climbs. You'll know you're almost there. You'll fight for every inch of road. The occasional cheer will come back to you help you here and there. Let their energy push you. Let them see your eyes. Smile when they cheer for you - your body will get just that little bit lighter. Grind. Fight. Suffer. Persevere. You'll plunge down the road, swooping from corner to corner, chaining together the turns, tucking on the straights, letting your legs recover for the run to come - soon! You'll roll back - you'll see people running. You'll think to yourself, "Wasn't I just here?" The noise will grow. The chalk dust will hang in the air - you're almost back, with only the 26.2 mile run to go.

You'll relax a little bit, knowing that even if you get a flat tire or something breaks here, you can run the damn bike into T2. You'll roll into transition and volunteers will fight for your bike. You'll give it up and not look back. You'll have your transition bag handed to you, and into the tent you'll go. You'll change and load up your pockets, and open the door to the last long run of your Ironman season – this is the one that counts. You'll take that first step of a thousand...and you'll smile.

You'll know that the bike won't let you down now - the race is down to your own two feet. The same crowd that cheered for you in the shadows of the morning will cheer for you in the brilliant sunshine of a hot Saturday. High-five people on the way out. Smile. Enjoy it. This is what you've worked for all year long. That first mile will feel great. So will the second. By mile 3, you probably won't feel so good. That's okay. You knew it couldn't all be that easy. You'll settle down just like you did on the bike, and get down to your pace.

You may see leaders passing you on their own way through. Some will look great - some won't. You might feel great, you might not. No matter how you feel, don't panic - this is the part of the day where whatever you're feeling, you can be sure it won't last. You'll keep moving. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep eating. Maybe you'll be right on plan - maybe you won't. If you're ahead of schedule, don't worry - believe. If you're behind, don't panic - roll with it. Everyone comes up with a brilliant race plan for Ironman, and then everyone has to deal with the reality that planning for something like Ironman is like trying to land a man on the moon….by remote control….blindfolded. Expect things to go wrong and then just deal with it. How you react to the changes in your plan will dictate your day. Don't waste energy worrying about things - just do what you have to when you have to, and keep moving. Keep eating. Keep drinking. Just don't stop and don't EVER sit down. You'll make it through the first loop. You'll load up on special needs if you need. Some of what you packed will look good, some won't. Eat what looks good, toss the rest, you’ll be back here again anyway. Keep moving and start looking for people you know and cheer for people you don't. You're headed forward, some of them won’t be. They want to be where you are, just like you wanted to be when you saw all those fast people heading out faster than you earlier. Share some energy - you'll get it right back. Run if you can. Walk if you have to. Just keep moving. The miles will drag on. The brilliant sunshine will yawn. You'll be coming up to those aid stations fully alive with people, music, and chicken soup. Keep moving. You'll soon only have a mere lap to go. You'll start to believe that you're going to make it. You'll start to imagine how good it's going to feel when you get there. Let those feelings drive you on. When your legs just don't want to move anymore, think about what it's going to be like when someone catches you...puts a medal over your head......all you have to do is get there. You'll start to hear the call of the Waterway. People you can't see in the twilight will cheer for you. They'll call out your name. Smile and thank them, or just wave a bit—they’ll understand what you mean. They were there when you left on the bike, and when you came back, when you left on the run, and now when you've come back. You'll be running along the water for a while for the last time. You'll start to realize that the day is almost over. You'll be exhausted, wiped out, barely able to run a “decent”pace (if you're lucky), but you'll ask yourself, "Where did the whole day go?" You'll be standing on the edge of two feelings - the desire to finally stop, and the desire to take these last moments and make them last as long as possible. You'll hit mile 25. Your Ironman will have 1.2 miles - just 2KM left in it. You'll run. You'll find your legs. You won't know how, but you will run. You will feel like you’re flying at the end. The lights will grow brighter, brighter, and brighter. Soon you'll be able to hear the music again. This time, it'll be for keeps. Soon they'll see you. Soon, everyone will see you. You'll run towards the lights, between the fences, and into the night sun made just for you.

Remember to take a moment to make this the finishing memory of a lifetime. They'll call your name. You'll keep running. You won’t feel the pain. The moment will be yours - for one moment, the entire world will be looking at you and only you. You'll cross the mat. The flash will go off, well actually many flashes were already going off. You'll stop. You'll finally stop. Your legs will wobble their last, and suddenly be capable of nothing more. Someone will catch you. You'll lean into them. It will suddenly hit you…
You are an Ironman.

Have a great day out there my friends!
If you know anyone who might gain value from this, please feel free to share it.

Life's little lessons...for a Triathlete

2012-06-28T10:19:00.003-04:00

So in today's (successful!) attempt at procrastination, I stumbled upon a list of 20 "Instructions for Life." The article I read argued that the true author of these 20 lessons is an H. Jackson Brown, although the Dalai Lama has since taken credit for these.

And since training for IMLP has taken over my life for the past 8 months, in a very positive and rewarding way, I'm translating the 20 Life Lessons to apply them to the Wonderful World of Triathlon.
So here it is! Mr. Brown/Mr. Lama's list...and with my twist for us triathletes:

1. Take into account that great love and great achievements involve great risk.
Risk the pain and the early mornings. Risk losing your social life and telling co-workers that you can't go to a Happy Hour because you haven't gotten your 2nd workout in yet. Risk riding with stronger girls who drop you at the first turn, and risk having people pass you on the run. And then, risk signing up for your first triathlon, or your first marathon, or your first Ironman.
Risk having your feet look like this:

NOT my feet!

PS - I got my first bloody toenail after Eagleman last weekend!

2. When you lose, don’t lose the lesson.
I lost back in October. I lost my hamstring (it tore, damn fragile thing), and it's prevented me from running and jumping and skipping and building up my endurance miles. My Lesson Learned: don't overtrain when my muscles are telling me to stop. I now realize that a couple days off can save you from a year-long injury.

3. Follow the three R’s:
- Respect for self. I know I can be faster and mightier...that's why I train!
- Respect for others. Hey, girl in the slow lane who wears snorkeling goggles at the pool: I admire you. Yeah, you. You come here every day and your feet get touched by people wanting to pass you. But learning to swim at the age of 30 is only for the Brave. RESPECT.

- Responsibility for all your actions. Yeah, sometimes I play the blame game and I start hating. Damn the people who don't have jobs and can train all day. Damn the people who can go to happy hours after work. Damn the spectators on the Eagleman course who yell, "10 more miles!"...boy, their faces look like great punching bags.

But, in the end, I chose this. I chose to train for an Ironman and I chose triathlon as my hobby. Every time I groan about the 5th hour of a training ride, or about how there's never enough ice cream in the freezer (this may not be due to triathlon training...), or about waking up at 6 am for Haines Point swims, I have to remind myself that I'm lucky!!! Yes, lucky! to have such a wonderful social circle of training buddies, to live in a bike-friendly D.C. with its outdoor 50-meter pool and humidity (bleh!), and to have the voracity to appreciate pizza and ice cream and grilled cheese sandwiches with little care for the pudge that pokes out every time that ~~damn~~ tri jersey rides up.

Worth every single calorie!

4. Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.
The whole reason I started triathlon was because I wasn't getting what I wanted. I had just moved to D.C., I didn't have any friends, and I was fat from my days of staring at goats and eating rice, rice, and more rice.

Then one day, I saw a random Team in Training flyer with a very fit looking girl on the brochure cover, surrounded by all of her purple-spandex-smoking-hot friends.
So I joined Team in Training in a desperate attempt to somehow rekindle that love for working out and make some friends.

And it worked! My best friends in D.C. are those I've met through training, I lost (some of) the pudge, and I fell in love with triathlon!

I still remember the first day they gave us our Team in Training spandex...here we are trying to figure out what the hell that thick pad between our legs was going to feel like on the run!??!!?

5. Learn the rules so you know how to break them properly.
Um, I am not sure I advocate breaking rules. Especially drafting rules.
But I'll go out on a limb here and say the rules that can be broken without guilt are:
1. Always listen to the doctor.
2. Free samples limited to one per person.
3. Eat your veggies first, then dessert.
4. Stretch before exercising.
5. Stretch after exercising.
6. Heel striking is BAD and EVIL.
7. Always wear a bra.

6. Don’t let a little dispute injure a great relationship.
You know how sometimes you get cranky at your bike for having dropped its chain, or maybe you blame a slow swim split on your goggles that fogged up? Or maybe you're furious at your training partner, who consistently cancels your Satr morning rides, leaving you biking 80 miles solo. Get over it. Let's all spread the love.

See? Even Homer realized that when his wife didn't bring home donuts for breakfast, there was no reason to be mad!

7. When you realize you’ve made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.
I snot-rocketed a guy at Eagleman biking behind me, and I remember apologizing about 20 times before moving on. Then every snot rocket after that, I made sure no innocent biker was in my wake.

8. Spend some time alone every day.

I love to run alone. It's peaceful. And my bike commute time is my own precious hour every day that I get to pedal past those angry commuters stuck in DC traffic on my way to work and daydream about the endless possibilities of what to cook for dinner on my way home.

9. Open your arms to change, but don’t let go of your values.
Change is good! We'd still be riding one of these 1950s bikes around if it weren't for CHANGE.
And running around in cotton t-shirts...shudder...

10. Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.
"Silence is golden" - I never got that one. I am a natural chatterbox, and probably only 5% of what I say actually has value. Listen to me long enough and you'll realize that all I'm really talking about is either how excited I am for today, or how excited I am that I have an ice cream maker, or how excited I am to do Lake Placid in a month.
OK, so I'm excited. I could have stopped there.

11. Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you’ll be able to enjoy it a second time.
Yep, no regrets. Travel. Laugh. Work hard. Play hard. Do stuff so your grandkids will say, "Tell me again about the story when you slaughtered the camel!" or "You mean you took a road trip for 50 hours? Why didn't you just fly there (or whatever new technology is out in 40 years)?!?" Live for the experience and make your life exciting!

12. A loving atmosphere in your home is the foundation for your life.
I tell Bart more than ten times a day that I love him. This is about 9 times more than is necessary, but I figure that those are the 3 most important words when it really comes down to it. Most of the time, he responds with Rule #10.

This is me...

...and this is Bart.



13. In disagreements with loved ones, deal only with the current situation. Don’t bring up the past.
Don't harbor resentment. That's a recipe bound to erupt and explode...in a bad way. If something's bothering you, why wait until the next time it happens to bring it up?

14. Share your knowledge. It is a way to achieve immortality.
When I first started doing tris, I didn't know anything. If it weren't for the shared knowledge (eh, maybe it was pity) of others, I'd still be riding my bike in running shorts with no chamois cream! I remember asking fellow teammates/seasoned triathletes where I could change from my swimsuit to my tri kit in T1 and how to clip in (then a foreign concept, my sneakers were just fine for cycling shoes!); your learning curve is so steep when you start out!

15. Be gentle with the earth.
Bike commute!

16. Once a year, go someplace you’ve never been before.
It doesn't have to be an international place, or a exotic destination. Hell, it could even be your first yoga class! Get out of your comfort zone and try something new - and remember Rule #9!

17. Remember that the best relationship is one in which your love for each other exceeds your need for each other.
I could get all gushy on this one, but I won't.

18. Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.
We all give up sleep, a social life, drinking, bedtimes past midnight, sleeping in on weekends, our spending budgets...and for all our hard work and training, all we get is a race t-shirt and a finisher's medal? 100% SUCCESS!!!

19. If you want others to be happy, practice compassion.
When someone passes you, tell them, "Great job!" When you pass someone, tell them "nice pace!" Thank race directors and always let volunteers know that you appreciate them. Some of them have been out there longer than you have!

20. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.
Do everything in #19 and you'll be happy, too! Win-Win!!

Diabolical Double - 125 miles of Smiles and Sweat

2012-06-25T10:18:00.001-04:00

Recipe for a great Saturday:

Ride 125 miles.
Climb more than 16,000 feet.

Looking at this makes me wince.

Eat 8 PBJ sandwiches, 2 Honey Stinger cookies, 12 water bottles of lemonade and Nuun, 2 bagels, 5 bananas, more than a dozen cookies, 6 Fig Newtons, handfuls of nuts, pretzels, goldfish, and peanut M&Ms, 1 Hammer gel (one too many), a coconut mocha Clif Mojo bar (thanks, Caroline!), and a pouch of PowerBar gummy thingies during the ride.
Pedal up mountains at 4 mph with Sarah, swearing at the switchbacks.
Descend these same mountains at more than 40 mph (holy SHIT!!!! - Garmin confirms this!), not breathing or blinking.
Make friends with a group of 50+-year-old riders who invited us to their 7 am rides, a gang of DCVC riders who gave us tips for the gravel stretch, and a medley of riders we kept running into at aid stations.
Cross the finish line 10 hrs, 22 min later with a fat smile and bugs stuck to my sweat.
Crush a Ledo's pizza at 9 pm.
Emerge with only a very minor, ho-hum saddle sore.
Gain the confidence I need for IMLP's bike leg in less than one month!

Going into the Gran Fondo Diabolical Double ride, I was excited and intimidated. My DC Tri/Snapple teammates who had done the course in previous years only had horror stories to share and insinuated that my legs might...not...recover in time for Lake Placid, and that I'd never want to sit in a saddle again. YIKES. My IM-training buddy Sarah and I approached the 125-mile ride with an open mind of taking the century ride option (essentially cutting the ride by 25 miles and nearly 4000 feet of climbing) if our legs felt demolished by the hills. But the whole ride was such a blast that we mutually decided, at mile 40, to tackle the whole shebang.

I actually ended up riding with a Garmin Edge 500 for the first time, my prize for being the 3rd highest fundraiser (thanks to everyone who donated to my fundraising page to help me raise $1500 for the Joanna M. Nicolay Foundation!). This was awesome. I mean, who wouldn't want to ride with a computer that beeps at you while ascending Bowman Hill (with a 9.7% grade!!), alerting me that my 2 mph pace was apparently slow enough to warrant the auto-pause trigger. And, at about Mile 95, it beeped again, and flashed "Virtual Partner has finished the Course". Ha!!!

Sitting in a saddle for nearly 10 1/2 hours doesn't make for the most thrilling documentary, but here we go:

The first 19 miles were nearly all downhill through fog. A bit chilly, and my arm warmers proved essential. So did my brakes.
The next 20 miles were steady riding. The pack of 500 riders who started in the initial herd had broken up, so Sarah and I found a comfortable pace and held it. We kept reminding each other to eat when we hit a flat or slightly downhill stretch, because we both knew this was the key to our happiness. And sanity.
Bowman Hill: a 9.7% grade for 1.5 miles. Holy hell, that was tough. My Garmin kept auto-pausing, and I remember thinking that I could probably walk my bike up this vertical wall faster than I was pedaling. But unclipping was not an option, largely because there was so much pressure with each pedal stroke that it was nearly impossible to unclip without falling ungracefully. But we made it! The wheezing and grunts that came from my lungs definitely was the most unattractive sound a girl can make (besides a fart).

Killer Miller Hill: an 8.9% grade for 1 mile. Bart had warned Sarah and me that Killer Miller was not nearly as bad as Bowman Hill, but as we ascended and hit a false peak, we cursed at him. Maybe our quads weren't yet recovered from Bowman Hill, but Killer Miller felt much, much worse than we expected.

Some lady who was zig-zagging across Killer Miller with me asked if my bike was custom-built.

Me, wheezing as if having an asthma attack: "Nope, but it's the smallest Cervelo they make!"

Her, shock registering: "You mean they make them that small? What size is that?!?!?"

Me, standing up on pedals to conquer the hill and make her think I am taller than I really am: "It's a 48."

Her, "Wow. I didn't realize anyone would ever need a bike that size."

Then we continued to zig-zag across each other's paths, me on my 650 wheels and her on her normal-size 700 wheels.

By Mile 50, we had made some friends. Both Sarah and I have a propensity to chat - with strangers, with friends, about food, about cramps, about saddle sores, about pizza. We made friends with Aero Helmet Austin, Bill the Marine Corps officer, Greg the Chatterbox, a gang of DCVC riders, and a very awkward man in a blue jersey whose name I cannot remember. We essentially were a group of:

Next up was a gravel stretch that the race director had warned us about. For some reason, I had convinced myself that this gravel stretch would be the scariest strip of the entire ride. I dreaded it more than Killer Miller or the deathly steep descent down the Westernport Wall. Nightmares of flat tires, crashes from the gravel, walking my bike, and injuring myself floated around. Bart had told me earlier that "you'll hate it. HATE it. But don't stand. Then there's no weight on your back wheel and you'll just spin out." The five miles leading up to the gravel stretch, I kept asking our DCVC friends and Sarah, "Are we there yet? Is this the gravel part?" Boy, I can be so annoying sometimes!

Finally, the answer was Yes - the ominous gravel stretch had arrived. It was a sharp descent, and there were sharp, jaggedy rocks everywhere. In retrospect, it really wasn't that bad (that's what you always say once it's over!), but I remember hearing Sarah scream out of excitement at bombing it downhill, and I replied with an "EGGGGUUUUHHHHAAAAAAA" that translated to "I am holding onto my brakes for dear life and dear God, I have never asked you for anything but I promise if you exist which you don't but if you do please dear God don't let me crash holy shit my hand is cramping from braking!!"

Banjo player...too cool!

After I survived the gravel descent, I came across 2 hill-billies playing the banjo. That's right, in the middle of a gravel stretch, I found music. It was like the deliverance.

The gravel stretch then ascended...sharply. "Don't stand, don't stand; pedal, pedal; don't fall, don't fall," I mantra-ed to myself. And it worked! I survived that horrible gravel stretch and eventually broke out onto the pavement with no flat tires, no crashes, and no walking!

Next up: Descent down Westernport Wall. I don't think I breathed for the entire 1-mile descent down the 12%-grade descent. The deathgrip I had on the brakes was giving me a terrible hand-cramp, but letting go meant SUICIDE. I was so terrified. I don't even want to write about it. Too many horrible memories.
The day got better from there!!! The three things that I had dreaded about this ride - the Bowman/Killer Miller climbs, the gravel stretch, and Westernport Wall - were over. Crossed off. Behind me with no flat tires, no walking the bike, no mental trauma!
I kept munching on my salty snack mixes of pretzels, Goldfish, nuts, and M&Ms. I pounded cookies and PBJs at each aid station and kept my calorie-loading slightly healthy with the bananas and oranges. Gotta say, the spread of food at each aid station was perfect!!
At about mile 95, my Garmin double-beeped. Apparently, my Virtual Partner had finished the Diabolical Double course. Oh, goody. Mr Robot was finished. A very sarcastic congratulations to him.
Rollers and coasting...Sarah and I were on Cloud Nine. Chatting with everyone, commenting on the beautiful weather. I didn't mind that one of the last hills, 4 miles long, took us an hour to climb. I was so happy! Bike riding can be fun! Then, just before the last hill, I saw it:

Sarah and I were ecstatic. There's a Ledo's in Deep Creek!?!?!?!? Thoughts of real food - not Clif bars and cookies from a bento box - made both of us pick up our pace a little. Just one more silly hill to conquer...

We hit the last climb up to the Wisp Resort. It's only a mile long, but it's more than an 8% grade and after 124 miles, climbing is NOT what your legs want. Aero Helmet Austin, who had ridden the last 80 miles with us, spun out, and Sarah and I were horrified as we stared at some part of his bike go flying off. Not even joking. We passed him at our bombin' 4 mph pace, and he reassured us that "I just dropped my chain". Then, suddenly, a meek "Guys??? Help..." came up, and we both grumbled about who would draw the short straw. Urgh. Since I had abandoned Austin at the gravel stretch when he fell off his bike (yes, I did. I am a horrible friend), I turned around and pedaled laps around Austin while he told me that his chain was stuck on the big ring. I selfishly told him "Wait here. When I get to the top, I'll tell them to come get you." And pedaled on. Sorry, Austin, I just didn't want to unclip!

Half a mile left, head hanging low, I saw friends from Team Z cheering us on! Scott Knight caught this picture of me looking way too happy for having ridden 124 miles. I bet I was just thinking about Ledo's...

Up and up we go!

And then we were done! 10 hours, 22 min in the saddle, and Sarah and I were as chatty as two high-schoolers after prom night. We hung out at the finish area for 45 minutes, munching on salty french fries, pretending like we were best friends with the other riders who we'd seen along the course. I was all smiles and laughter, a sweaty mess of pure delight. Sometimes, after days like this, I realize that my weakest leg of cycling is potentially the most fun.

Found Bart and Todd in the hotel bar, making friends with the bartenders. Told them our wildly hilarious stories from the day which weren't so funny to them (I think Bart was shocked that anyone could ride a hill at 4 mph without falling off their bike), and headed to Ledo's.

To anyone who lives within driving distance of Garrett County and owns a bike, this ride is a must-do. Seriously. All the warnings I received about the elevation, the quad-crushing hills, and the defeat you feel when you see a series of switchbacks ascending into infinity are (admittedly) true...BUT the sense of pride...and confidence boost...and absolute BLAST that I had outweigh the moments that warranted thoughts of "This f*#^ing SUCKS".

Big High-Five to my riding buddy Sarah Littlefield, who is more than ready to crush IM Mont Tremblant in August, and Caroline Lauver, who made friends with Fat Tire drinking fans. And huge Crowning Congrats to the KOM Bart Forsyth, who won the final summit climb up Wisp Mountain!

Next up is the big one: Lake Placid!

Ludicrous Lawsuits

2012-06-20T15:42:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I read that Strava was being sued. Here's the article from Outside Magazine:
The family of a California man who died two years ago in a Berkeley cycling accident is suing the social training website Strava, claiming the site's time-comparing features encouraged him to speed. William Flint, a 41-year-old Oakland engineer, was riding at least 10 miles over the speed limit down a road in Tilden Park when he attempted to avoid a car and lost control of his bicycle. Flint's family alleges that he was attempting to recapture his Strava title of "King of the Mountain" for that section of road. The San Francisco-based company allows cyclists to compete for spots on its leaderboard by sharing GPS-based speed data. Last week, a San Francisco cyclist was charged with felony manslaughter after running down a pedestrian in a crosswalk in an alleged attempt to beat a Strava record.

So, in my lovely ways of using the internet to procrastinate, I googled what other ludicrous lawsuits are out there. This one wins for sure - a bandit who sued the race director of a mud run because he was paralyzed during the course!

According to Runner’s World, “Robert Fecteau III is suing the organizers of the 2010 Filthy 5K Mud Run in Richmond, Va., for negligence after he became partially paralyzed in a mud pit near the finish. Fecteau is seeking $30 million even though he wasn’t a registered participant in the event."

Yep, this Fecteau dude didn't even register for the race...I mean, if people choose to violate the rules, that’s their prerogative. But if they get caught, they should apologize, not attack. But this guy got hurt where he didn’t belong. He sounds like the guy who breaks into your house and then sues because he cut himself on the glass of the window he smashed in order to get in.

Wouldn't it be more reasonable for the race director to countersue him for trespassing and theft of services?

The Race in a Furnace for 5 hours

2012-06-12T06:30:00.002-04:00

Every other DC triathlete: “You’re doing Eagleman!??!!?”

Pipsqueak me: “Yeah! I’m excited!”

Nay-sayers: “Do you know what that course is like?”

Me, doubt starting to creep in: “No…”

The bubble-deflators: “It’s windy. It’s hot. There’s no shade. Your back is going to cramp from being aero for so long on the bike, your shoulders will get burned, and you will be dehydrated on the run. Oh, and the swim is choppy and there are jellyfish. Did I mention it’s a 13.1-mile furnace you’ll be running through? But great luck, I’m sure you’ll be fine!”

And it was true. Every. Single. Warning. Eagleman Tri 70.3 was a true race through a furnace.

The hottest day of the summer yet, and I was scheduled in the second-to-the-last wave. That’s right, my take-off time was more than 90 minutes after the pros went off. A quick calculation meant that I would be hitting the run course as the pros were doing their post-race interviews, and I’d be tackling the half-marathon run in the high heat of the day. Ugh. At least the faster males were all getting out before me so that I wouldn’t be my normal hazardously slow self on the bike course.

For a week leading up to Eagleman, I had checked the water temps hourly, hoping for the non-wetsuit swim to happen with temps over 76.1*. The thermometer kept teasing me with its waffling between 74 and 76 degrees, but race-day morning, Robert announced that water temps were 75.6*. I was bummed that the water hadn't warmed up quite enough to be non-wetsuit, but suctioned my Xterra Vendetta on for the extra buoyancy.

Surprisingly, the water was quite chilly for being borderline non-wetsuit. I lined up at the front edge of the corral and tried to look for my Snapple teammate Holly Geldhauser, but all I could find were goggly-eyed smug triathletes staring back at me. Hmmm…anyone with fast feet who wouldn’t mind me drafting off their bubbles?

Eagleman start was awesome. In-water, which is really the only way to save spectators from wincing at my awful attempt at dolphin-diving into open water. Wide enough that we three age groups clustered together weren’t fighting for space. I quickly grabbed Big Bubbles’ feet and swam in her draft for the first leg of the swim. Occasionally I would have to do a hacking cough underwater to expel the salt water that tasted oh-so-nasty, but that was the worst of it.

Eagleman Swim

Second leg, I passed Big Bubbles and tried to find another red-cap’s feet. No luck. Hum-diddly-ho, all by myself. This meant that I had to sight, which I think I am good at (I follow the line on the bottom of a pool pretty well!), but have been told that I am a horrendous zig-zagger in open water.

Last leg took a while, as the waters became a bit choppy. Something about the tide shifting. I tried to put an extra kick into my stroke, but the waves were a bit stronger now so I just focused on staying on-course. Apparently, there had been reports of jellyfish near the swim exit, but my Xterra Vendetta not only kept me buoyant, it also kept me from getting stung!!

Ready to hit the bike and roll!

1.2-mile swim: 28:31, 8^th AG.

Based on my time, I wouldn’t be surprised if the swim course were a wee bit short!

Out of T1 in a jiffy, and I settled on my bike Penelope and was instantly reminded of my saddle sore. Yeeee-OUCH!!!! Dammit, a saddle sore from a week earlier somehow felt as if it deserved to claim residence to my crotch, so I had to constantly shift positions during the bike course until I found an optimal position where I wouldn’t feel the zit-like bump on my you-know-what.

At about mile 2, I realized that I had so brilliantly left my watch sitting in transition. DOH!!! I wondered how best to gauge when to eat, since I was following a nutrition plan that Snapple teammate Matias Palavecino (and last year’s Eagleman amateur champ!) had sent me:

Matias's Nutrition Plan for me

So, my gregarious self figured out a brilliant plan: I would ask people what mile their Garmin read if/when I passed people (which, being in the second-to-the-last wave of the day, guaranteed there would be a lot of cyclists on the road before me). This probably should win me the Most Annoying Cyclist award, but I tried to pick out nicer-looking-folk before I annoyingly screamed “What mile are we on!?!?!?” I mean, what could be worse than a 5-foot midget wearing a sperm helmet, asking YOU to read the current stats because she has idiotically forgotten her watch?!?!?!?

There’s nothing to write about on this bike course other than:

It’s flat.
Cambridge has a lot of straight highways.
The cars that somehow got on the race course at Miles 10 and 35 should not have been there.
The back and neck cramps from being aero for 2:40+ was inevitable. I’d try to stretch them out by getting out of the saddle every 10 minutes, but there were some massive knots that grew in my neck by the end of the bike leg.
Another successful pee! I am getting to be quite good at this pee-on-the-go thing.

56-mile Bike: 2:41:32, 11^th AG.

I was happy with my bike split, but the run is really what it all boils down to…

The Heat. Oh my god, the Heat. I will never disrespect you again or think that you can be ignored/overcome/enjoyed. You made my life HELL for nearly 2 hours and you made 3 people pass out on the side of the road – and those are only the ones that I saw.

I don’t ever carry a water bottle or gels with me on any run, but I sure wish I did. This was worse than any sense of defeat I’ve ever felt, and the only thing that kept me going was knowing that once I crossed the finish line, I could stop moving. I also passed people who looked to be suffering so much worse than I felt – vomiting, walking, standing by the side of the road and rubbing ice from an aid station up and down their calves – that I told myself that my pain was a blip on the pain radar compared to these people fighting nausea and cramps.

Miles 1-3: I can do this. This isn’t too bad. Hammie feels great. What’s this heat that everyone always says will make me want to shrivel and die? I am invincible!!!! I laugh in the face of heat!

I should have known then – don’t you always say that in hindsight?? – that the racers I crossed paths with, coming in on the final stretch of miles 10-13, whose faces looked gaunt, lips parched, bodies barely hanging on…that I would become that in a half-hour.

Mile 4: OMG Get me out of here. Where are the f*&#ing aid stations? I couldn’t even feel the ice that I had stuffed in my bra, shorts, and cap from aid station Mile 3.5. The ice in my cap didn’t cool my brain at all, and you’d think that I’d feel the ice against my boobs or crotch. Nothing. I was numb to the ice cubes and they were only making funny clinking noises. I started doing what I knew was a recipe for disaster: I started to count down the miles. 9 to go.

Mile 5 – Guy farting passed me. Secretly, I was jealous. If I could fart (but I can’t, I’m a girl!!! We don’t fart or poop), I would, too! My stomach was bloated from the 3 cups of water I inhaled at every aid station. Although Matias had advised me to stick with the Pepsi and drinks w/ sugar or electrolytes during the run, I was so desperate for fluids that I just gulped down water. And now I was running with a bloated stomach. 8 more miles.

Mile 6 – Dammit, I should have taken a water bottle on this run. I kept looking down the vast highway of racers, desperate to just catch sight of the next aid station. Nothing. Just strings of suffering people, like a mass exodus across the Gobi desert. That’s what it felt like. We were all marching toward nothing except the next aid station. Nobody was in a good mood. I crossed paths with Holly and Adriana as the course does an out-and-back, and couldn’t even say anything. Just a pathetic high-five to cheer them on. 7 more miles.

Mile 7 – OK, more than halfway there. What is that funny sloshing sound? Oh, that’s my stomach. Apparently, the turnaround point for the run course is famous for having sno cones. I grabbed 3 sno cones without any sugar water and stuffed them down my bra and shorts and into my cap. Again, nothing. This heat was relentless!

I tried to give myself a mental pep talk about having reached the half-way point, but my body told me to “Shut up! I will never, ever forgive you for making me do this!! You idiot! You didn’t even carry a water bottle or salt tabs with you on this run and I will maaake yooooouuu suffffferrr.”

Mile 8 – stood in front of a neighborhood boy with a hose for about 20 seconds. I asked him to spray me right in the face, and he sure did. When I finally conceded that others may want the hose, too, I started running in sloshy shoes. That was quite annoying and is probably the reason I had 2 enormous blood blisters when I peeled off my running shoes. C’mon Mindy, time to dig deep. 5 more miles.

Mile 9 – passed a 29-year-old. It felt like I was running about 10-minute miles, but I kept reminding myself that I was still passing people, so there were others hurting more than I was. A sense of needing to vomit and clear my stomach of this nutrition-from-the-bike clump crept up. I had never, ever vomited in a race before. But it felt like it was coming. About 5 false alarms and I ignored my vomiting alert. 4 more miles.

Mile 10 – Cookie Dough ice cream. I remember seeing a Dairy Queen on the way down to Cambridge. Oh my god, I could use a 48-oz Blizzard right now. Butterfingers. No, Heath. Hmmmm, maybe both???

Then, about halfway through, I started to concentrate on steps. Not miles, but steps. Making sure I didn’t trip over my own feet and concentrating – so hard – on keeping my feet moving. It wasn’t about how many more miles anymore, it was about keeping my run cadence up so that I didn’t resort to a walk. Cause if I started to walk, I knew that the 29-year-old I had passed a mile ago would pass me back. Nuh-uh, ain’t gonna happen.

Uh-oh. Left knee started to hurt. It was an injury from a week ago, but decided to emerge at the double-digit miles of this course. However, the pain from the heat was so much worse than my left knee’s twinge that I quite easily managed to ignore it.

Mile 11 – got passed by a girl wearing an Air Force kit from my age group that I hadn’t seen on the bike or the turnaround at the run. She passed me with some pretty good authority, so I didn’t chase. I couldn’t. I was barely holding on. Water. Water. Ice Cream. Pool. Ice bath. Keep your feet happy. Feet happy. Feet happy.

what I felt like...

Mile 12 – I tried to pick it up a bit, and although my left knee and the soles of my feet were screaming at me to Just walk! No more running! Don’t you want us when you are sixty years old!?!?!?, I wanted more than anything to just cross the finish line. I could hear race director Robert Vigo’s voice announcing the finishers. I didn’t hear my name…maybe because I was three corners away…Robert, your voice sounds like angels calling…

Mile 13 – “One more corner! You’re there! Snapple is GOOOOD!” screamed a spectator. Just around the bend…and the finish line! Crossed and immediately hugged a volunteer. Well, more like I draped my sweaty self all over him, and when he asked if I was OK, I said, “Yes, but just walk with me to that chair”. And he did. Mr. Volunteer, you are awesome. I want to tell you how you much I appreciate that you didn’t shudder when you felt my ice-cube-bra press against your dry shirt, and how much that cold, wet towel on my neck meant to me.

13.1-Mile Run: 1:51:49, 9^th AG

Sat in a chair for about 5 minutes, just giving my legs what they deserved: no weight or pressure or pounding. I downed about 48 oz of water during those 5 minutes and still wanted more.

Saw Bart, loved that he was telling me I looked strong on the run (total BS), then loved him even more for telling me my bike split was pretty good (unlike the typical “Where was the hammer?”). I felt like crap and my stomach was bloated and I was still thirsty and where the hell is a Dr. Pepper when you really need one!?!?? But seeing Bart, and congratulating Adriana on her kick-ass half-Ironman a mere 3 ½ months after having a baby girl, and just simply not moving felt sooooo good and soooo well-deserved.

Eagleman Half-Iron: 5:05:48, 7^th AG.

So relieved to be DONE DONE DONE!!!

Lessons Learned:

Don’t leave feet on the swim too early. I could probably have kept on Big Bubbles’ feet for 800 more meters and saved more energy rather than thinking that the 1^st turn was a good place to pass her.
Don’t forget the watch on the bike. Ever again.
I can hammer on the bike. It didn’t leave my legs depleted on the run and kept me in a good position in my age group!
I hate heat. But will prepare for it. Next race in 90+* weather, I’ll carry a water bottle and some extra salt tabs. Having no nutrition or fuel on the run was just idiotic.
The pain is temporary. Less than 24 hours later, I’m itching for my next training weekend up at Lost Barn with the Snapple Tri Team. I’ve already forgotten how much I hated the suffering and dehydration.
Stop the pity party. I chose to race this. I chose to train for an Ironman. At Mile 10, when I was blaming everybody but myself - "Damn the VA Tech spectatos with beers lounging under a tent! Damn the racers who already finished! Damn the sun! Damn the Cambridge ciy planners who made such desolate stretches of road! Damn you...and you..and YOU!!!" This is my choice. I signed up for this suffer-fest and I admit that I LOVE IT.
Man, this sport is getting tough as nails! My age group was stacked with super-women!

I found this bubbly Sexy Momma at the finish line!
Just 3 1/2 months after having her baby girl, and she's already logged 2 HIMs!

Congrats to the Snapple Tri Team for an AWESOME race day!

Ben Winterroth won the AquaVelo, and Holly Ann Geldhauser (4^th AG), Ellen Wexler, and Andy Sovonick (7^th AG) also beat the heat!!!

And thanks to Bart Forsyth for being race photographer and race-morning chaffeur, and to my wonderful IM-suffermates Katie Ingram, Sarah Littlefield, and Caroline Lauver for the good-luck wishes and words of encouragement!

And thanks to the wonderful TriColumbia crew for another awesome race! The sno-cones at Mile 7, the sprinklers along the course, the volunteer who was my support pole when I crossed, and the carrot cake at the post-race tent…you know how to make a race experience complete!

Hello, friend.

I recovered later that day with 2 wonderful pints of Ben and Jerry’s (Red Velvet and Cookie Dough, if you’re wondering).

I popped a gynormous blood blister and, later in the shower, discovered that I now have TWO saddle sores. Guh. It had grown a twin. This will be a recovery/rest week for sure.

Next up: Ironman Lake Placid!!! Can we say PUMPED UP!!?!?!?

Sometimes, you just can't find the right words...

2012-05-24T13:39:00.000-04:00

Even though English is the 3rd most commonly spoken langauge in the world (after Mandarin and Spanish), sometimes I flounder to express myself and just end up drooling words all over myself.

Here's a cool list of some words that simply don’t exist in the English langauge (and yet after reading this list, you’ll wish they did!):

1. Age-otori (Japanese): To look worse after a haircut
2. Arigata-meiwaku (Japanese): An act someone does for you that you didn’t want to have them do and tried to avoid having them do, but they went ahead anyway, determined to do you a favor, and then things went wrong and caused you a lot of trouble, yet in the end social conventions required you to express gratitude

3. Backpfeifengesicht (German): A face badly in need of a fist

4. Bakku-shan (Japanese): A beautiful girl… as long as she’s being viewed from behind

5. Duende (Spanish): a climactic show of spirit in a performance or work of art, which might be fulfilled in flamenco dancing, or bull-fighting, etc.

6. Forelsket (Norwegian): The euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love

7. Gigil (pronounced Gheegle; Filipino): The urge to pinch or squeeze something that is unbearably cute

8. L’esprit de l’escalier (French): usually translated as “staircase wit,” is the act of thinking of a clever comeback when it is too late to deliver it

9. Mamihlapinatapai (Yaghan): A look between two people that suggests an unspoken, shared desire

10. Meraki (pronounced may-rah-kee; Greek): Doing something with soul, creativity, or love. It’s when you put something of yourself into what you’re doing

11. Pena ajena (Mexican Spanish): The embarrassment you feel watching someone else’s humiliation

12. Schadenfreude (German): the pleasure derived from someone else’s pain

13. Sgriob (Gaelic): The itchiness that overcomes the upper lip just before taking a sip of whisky

14. Taarradhin (Arabic): implies a happy solution for everyone, or “I win. You win.” It’s a way of reconciling without anyone losing face. Arabic has no word for “compromise,” in the sense of reaching an arrangement via struggle and disagreement

15. Tatemae and Honne (Japanese): What you pretend to believe and what you actually believe, respectively

16. Tingo (Pascuense language of Easter Island): to borrow objects one by one from a neighbor’s house until there is nothing left

17. Waldeinsamkeit (German): The feeling of being alone in the woods

18. Yoko meshi (Japanese): literally ‘a meal eaten sideways,’ referring to the peculiar stress induced by speaking a foreign language

KO KO-nquering KO-lumbia!

2012-05-23T16:11:00.005-04:00

Columbia Tri is my favorite race of the year. I could be accused of saying that about Black Fly and Quassy as well, but Columbia really is special: it’s the first tri I did with Penelope, the course is fantastically hilly, and there are teenage boys with water guns at about mile 3 of the run every year! I’ve done it three years running and each time, I’ve had a great experience.

Except this year.

This year started off with a horrible experience.

The swim is my strength. I could swim all day. Put me in water and I am one happy camper. I’ve loved water ever since my dad proved to me that the Terminator doesn’t exist (for some reason, I grew up thinking he was an underwater creature) and there are no Loch Ness monsters in the Utah lakes of my childhood.

I'm the one on the left, brimming with joy and wearing oversized goggles. That's Phebe on the right!

Going into Columbia, my goal was to PR on the swim and bike. I’ve been battling a hamstring injury for the past 8 months, so a 10K run PR was not on the horizon. The swim base I’d built up over the last 3 months found me stronger and more confident in the water, so I was setting my sights on breaking 21 minutes…a stretch goal, but not unreachable.

As our lovely bright orange caps were bobbing in the water, I found my friend Sarah Littlefield. We giggled about goggles, then there was a frantic discussion about what buoys were turn buoys vs sighting buoys amongst our age group wave. As the announcer counted down from 10, I jockeyed for a position strong and center. My plan was to hit it hard the first 200 meters, find a good position behind some fast feet, and hold on for 0.9 miles. 21, 21, 21…I could do it!

And we were off! First three strokes were strong. I immediately found myself jammed between 2 other strong swimmers – a Mindy sandwich, if you will. Beast-to-my-right’s fist pounded my right temple. Beast-to-my-left’s elbow knocked my ribcage. I felt frantic. This was by far the most aggressive triathlon start I’d ever been in (although nothing compares to the Chessie Bayswim start).

Within 15 meters, I couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t a “you went out too fast” spiked HR…this was a pure, fight-for-every-breath panic attack. I switched from breathing every 3 to breathing every 2 strokes. I still couldn’t catch a breath. Nasty weed water went down as I tried to force my inhales to catch any oxygen. I did breaststroke for 2 strokes then forced my head down. Don’t be pathetic, Mindy. Hold on to those feet. Just swim.

But it got worse. I gave up on following feet. I backstroked. That’s right, I backstroked. I pulled a 180, looked up at the wonderfully calm blue sky, and yelled at myself for being a wuss. You can do this. You love water. You’re not a flounderer. Flip back over and suck it up. Breath.

But I was still gasping for air. I couldn’t re-calibrate myself. There was no mantra going through my head other than “F*%# F*#@ F*!^!!” I tugged at my wetsuit collar – it was constricting me. I breast-stroked and glanced desperately around. The three women in my wave had pulled ahead and were leaving me stranded with a cluster of girls zooming in to my feet.

There were spectators to my right on the shore, but they couldn’t tell I was about to die. They didn’t know they were about to witness a drowning that day. I wanted to scream at the kayaker to give me some oxygen – I didn’t want him to whip me off the course, I just wanted him to make this stupid panic attack disappear.

I whimpered. Like a puppy. I whimpered because I felt sorry for myself that it had come to this. “I don’t even want to race anymore. Gasp. I just want to – gasp - get out of the water. Gasp. I just want the swim to be over. Gasp. Get me out of here. Gasp,” I thought to myself. I backstroked so that I wouldn’t be run over by the onslaught of my wave coming towards my feet. I watched as they came up…and passed me. The whole wave passed me and I was so bummed.

This race was not going to end with Mindy coming out of the water having backstroked the entire course. “Ugh, get your swimming mojo ON, Mindy!!!” I cursed at myself as girls passed me as if I were a white buoy. So I swam. Slowly, at first, stroking with caution intention and a fear that I would drown. I forced myself to breath bubbles out, just like they teach 5-year-olds, and concentrated on a long inhale every two strokes. Just making sure I got the oxygen. Just making sure I could breathe again.

I hit the first buoy and my HR settled. My breathing was back to normal. The panic attack had passed – and I started to pick up the pace to catch up with those girls who had deserted me in my minutes of dire need. By the second buoy, I was gaining on the main lead pack, so I pushed it a bit harder on the final and longest stretch.

Out of the water in the exact swim split as last year…down to the second…but was just happy to have survived that swim. After the race, several people tried to assuage my freak-out about my panic attack by telling me that panic attacks happen in cold water (but the water wasn’t cold), maybe I should have warmed up in the water (but I’ve done plenty of races with no warmup at all), maybe it was an asthma attack (I don’t have asthma), at least this didn’t happen at Lake Placid (?? I don’t know why she said this, as it very well may…), and “it happens to everybody”. I don’t know how it could have been prevented, I just know that I am no longer immune to the dreaded panic attack.

Lessons learned:

I hate panic attacks.

I love oxygen.

Backstroke saved me.

Coming out of the swim with my training buddy Sarah Littlefield hot on my heels!

0.9-Mile Swim: 21:57; 16^th Female, 3^rd AG

So after this ordeal, I strapped on Mr. Patriotic Sperm Helmet and hopped onto Penelope for a joy ride through Columbia. I am used to people passing me out of the water, so it was no surprise that I was passed plenty of times. I even got passed by a 14-year-old boy. I know, I know. He was fast! Practically dancing on his pedals! I mean, when you weigh all of 60 pounds, you’re flying up those hills that everybody else is switch-backing up.

Biking with Mr Patriotic Sperm Helmet!

So instead of reflecting on the woes of dropping in place and confidence throughout the bike course, I’m going to tell you about an event that was my first.

I peed on the bike!!!!!

I do think this justifies 5 exclamation marks. I have always viewed peeing on the bike as vulgar, disgusting, repulsive…wouldn’t you rather risk 20 seconds than pee on your leg, your carbon-soled shoes, and your shiny tri bike? But I really needed to pee. And I knew I would need to practice peeing while racing since my Ironman is a mere 2 months away.

I stopped pedaling. I concentrated. Focus on peeing. Focus. Focus. OK, I knew I had to pee. Where was this stream?

To any cyclists behind me, it was obvious what I was trying to do. Why else would anyone stop pedaling and coast standing on a flat stretch?

I focused harder. Felt the trickle run down my leg. Finished my business and got back into aero position. Success!!

26-mile Bike: 1:20:30; 70-something Female, 6^th AG

Nothing exciting like a panic attack or peeing to write about in the run, except to confirm that the hills are indeed massive. I always underestimate them and they always surprise me again.

The water gun boys were there again this year at mile 3…yes, please, spray me!!!

10K Run: 48:39; 30-something Female, 7^th AG

Columbia remains my favorite tri, despite the panic attack. Who wouldn’t love a tri that gives a free duffle bag (future present for dad!), female-cut t-shirts, and a chance to conquer some pretty tough hills in the early season?

Columbia Tri: 2:34:22; 18^th Female, 3^rd AG

A bit of a disappointment to have added more than 4 minutes to my time from last year on the same course, but all the more incentive to return stronger next year!

Lessons Learned:

SWIM: I am not immune to panic attacks in the water. It got me, and it got me good. Holy crap, I never want to experience that feeling again. But I’m proud of handling it in stride, even though it meant resorting to backstroke and losing valuable feet at the beginning of the swim.

BIKE: Need to work on the hills. Can’t get passed by another 14-year-old on the bike – my quads were 5 times the size of his, yet I still couldn’t match his speed! Looking forward to this Memorial weekend’s girl’s training weekend at Skyline!

Yikes! Look at the elevation chart on the bike course!

RUN: Glad my hammie held up with no pain. Time to start training runs again – cramming as many smart miles as I can into the training program before Ironman hits and it’s game time.

Post-race with Snapple teammates!

And an overly enthusiastic Congratulations!!!!! to Bart for his VA Run Sprint Tri win that same day!

To read about my 2011 Columbia Race, click here.

And for other triathlon race reports, click here.

And for my triathlon photo album, click here!