Random, Just Random

Hmm, what has TPG been up to these days?  Oh, you know, stuff. Not blogging clearly.  Mostly because there hasn't been much to say.  Sorry y'all, I'll try to start doing more.  Not training for anything makes for one dull pink girl.

Last weekend was filled with fantastic friends and that is always a good thing.  Friday night I made the trek to McKinney, TX to watch Bike the Bricks.  I got there a little early to watch the first racers and eventually met up with the Frunners (and Frikers) for supper and to watch the pros race.  Um, wow.  The winning team (crossing the finish line holding hands, awww) nearly lapped the back of the pack.  Incredible.

Not having a flash, I didn't get any nighttime photos of the pros. Boo, bad blogger.

It was really nice to put on people clothes and hang out with my friends where everyone looked and smelled so nice, ha!  It is rare that we are all together like that and no one is racing!

Gretch, Mama, Violator, Marci, TPG & MK - my best girls.

Saturday morning, Violator showed up bright and early for our long ride to the lake. Which ended up being cut short because someone (me, it was me) had a flat and had to change it not once, but twice.  (my first spare tube also had a hole, goodness)  I can change a flat but I’m certainly not winning any awards for speed any time soon, so we rode shorter than anticipated due to the unexpected delay.  Note to self: start practicing changing flats.  Speed might come in handy during a race.

I love riding with Violator; she’s good company.  But I lucked out this particular day because I got to, ahem, chaperone a little bike date.  Mmm, hmm, I got all KINDS of skills, chaperoning included.  What can I say, I’m versatile.

Monday I got up early ready to race my first 5K of the season.  I was feeling confident and strong. This feeling did not last.  I had three time goals.  My A. I’ll be entirely thrilled and finally get the time I’ve always wanted goal, B. Eh, I’ll settle for a small PR goal and C. My, if I go over this time I’m just going to stop running altogether because apparently I’ve forgotten how.  Let’s just say I was much closer to C than I’m comfortable with.  Not gonna make any excuses; I’ve been slacking.  No more.  I don’t wanna see those numbers ever again!

Welp. That's all folks.  I promise to do something blog worthy this weekend.  Shabby and I are headed on a day trip so that should reward me with at least some really ridiculous photos.  You know, like this one.  I love this girl!

Ironman Texas Volunteer Extravaganza

Ever have one of those moments in life that is so full of awesome that you realize, while it is happening, that you’ll remember nearly every detail for the rest of your life? 

Yes.  It was THAT kind of weekend.

We arrived in The Woodlands ready to serve and got up very early Saturday morning excited for what the day would surely bring.  There was an electricity in the air along with all the humidity.  My first thought as I exited what had to be the nastiest hotel room I’ve ever experienced, “I’m glad I’m not racing today!”  My stomach was in knots as if I were though – big day ahead and I didn’t want to mess up a thing!

Drum, Brian, Gretchen, Heidi, TPG, Sare Bear

Our first job of the day was stripping.  We got tee shirts and gloves, but no instruction.  I’m thankful that I’ve been stripped before and I knew what to expect.  The water was hot, not warm, and while wetsuits were allowed, the consequence of a ten minute penalty assured us there would be very few to strip. So we set about the business of watching and waiting for the first swimmers to exit the water. 

Now, I’m a solid back of the pack athlete.  I don’t get to see the first ANYTHING when I’m racing.  So I, we, blew UP when the first swimmer came careening out of the water.  We screamed, we clapped, we encouraged, we stripped.  And stripped.  Word was that about 300 athletes ended up wearing wetsuits.  And those that weren’t, well, we saw ALL KINDS of swimwear! 

Meeting Satan while we waited.  This is becoming a theme for me.

Lemme just say, you haven’t really lived until you’ve seen a (male) athlete running top speed in only his burnt orange itty bitty speedo trunks.  I was worried for him (and a little for us) that they were going to come right off!  Lemme also say that if you’ve ever wondered if in fact that triathlon is a full body workout, well, just stand at the swim exit and any doubt will be removed.  Wowza.  I need to get in the pool more for sure!

My bestie, Sare Bear and me. Soaked.

We were soaked in nasty lake/lagoon water after our first shift but that didn’t stop us from grabbing breakfast to fuel up for our second shift, catchers.  We were going to need the energy!  While we all felt uninformed and disorganized at the swim exit, the finish line was a well oiled machine. Those Reillys really know what they are doing! I was super excited to see Mike Reilly until I spotted, gasp, Chrissie Wellington!  Oh my good golly Pete, she is JUST as charming in person as you would imagine.  I just want to put her in my pocket!  She sang and danced the entire afternoon, graciously posing for photos with love struck fans and even jumping in to put medals around the necks of finishers. It was such a joy to watch the look of realization come over their faces when they recognized Chrissie! 

Yes, that IS Chrissie Wellington. She was fabulous. (and tall, she's very tall!)

Waiting to catch the first age groupers.  (they are changing out the clock) 

Also, I am a little bit (okay, a lot bit) in love with Caitlin Snow.  She came in second female and is just so crazy precious!  (and I have GOT to find that pink and black plaid, Pearl Izumi tri kit…simply must have) She too stayed for a few hours greeting triathletes and cheering. 

Gretchen caught this pro athlete from Slovenia.  His first words?  “Texas is effin’ HOT!”  Indeed my Slovene friend, indeed.  I don’t think people who aren’t from this part of the country really understand just how incredibly warm it really can get.  I’d see a Canadian, waving her little red and white flags and think, “Well, bless her heart.”  A friend of ours, who is FROM Texas, would train with up to six layers of shirts to acclimate to the heat and humidity.  We aren’t messin’ around with the hot here!

We even made the IMTX video!  About 10:55 in.

I stood at the finish and the Reillys passed me over quite a bit.  Maybe catching really isn’t the best job for someone my size.  I mostly caught the girls and the little guys.  A few times the guys would put their arm on my HEAD to balance themselves.  Guess my shoulders are just too low to the ground, ha ha!   I DID get to catch the fourth female.  She asked me, “Was I fourth?”  I was excited to tell her, YES! 

After missing her at Houston AND Galveston, due to her injury, I FINALLY got to meet TX Runner Mom! Yea!  It was so nice to hang out with you and your husband - he's hilarious!

Every guy just wanted to know where his beloved was.  First question, every time, “Where’s my wife?”  So sweet! 

Mile 24 during the day.  It was HOT!

After catching duty, we set about the business of which I am a Viking: spectating.  It is well known that the FIGJAM girls can spectate the CRAP out of any race and we weren’t about to let these Ironman hopefuls down.  Donning our jingly bellydancing scarves, glow necklaces and me, my trusty cowbell, we stood on either side of the course with a plan.  We’d shake it for the guys and form a bridge for the ladies.  What we lack in coordination, we more than make up for in enthusiasm! 

 Yes, we shook it all night.  Anything for an Ironman!

A three loop run course, we got to see the same athletes over and over.  And it was a thrill to see them smile, chuckle and pretend to smack our scarves!  I’m still hoarse today from all the yelling. 

I would be remiss if I didn’t give a special shout out to Fireman Rob.  Have you seen him before?  Of course, being the patriotic and magnanimous spectator that I am, I’ll always take off and run with a firefighter, Rob being no exception.  He told me that his feet hurt and I learned a little of his incredible story.  I’m amazed that anyone can cover a full marathon after 112 miles on the bike and 2.4 miles in the water, but Rob does it in full gear!  Mad props to Fireman Rob!

I made one woman cry. Whoops.  Not in my usual “tough love” kind of way either.  I ran with her a bit and said the words, “You’re awesome!  You know that, right?”  And she began to cry and nodded.  I hope she believed it because it’s true! 

It was an incredible experience that I’ll never forget and such a privilege to share in such an intimate moment with these outstanding athletes.  A tiny bit sad to say that I won’t be able to spectate next year…but honestly, we think we ought to take our show on the road to spectate professionally, ha!   

Watching the very last finisher come in just before midnight.  It was a long day but worth every minute of it - and an experience I hope to soon repeat!

Did you race IMTX this weekend? Did you volunteer? Spectate?  Message me and I'll link to your post about the race!

I'm in Love With a...

So you wanna be a stripper?

 Me too girl, me too.


Well, a wetsuit stripper anyway. I get a lot out of races and I sincerely appreciate those who get up at stupid-thirty to stand out in the heat/cold/rain to make these races happen. I always make time to thank the volunteers (and police) for being out there. The larger races couldn't happen without the hundreds of people who generously give of their time. Someone filled that cup of water you downed and then cleaned up the trash you discarded on the course.  Someone stood at an intersection for hours to ensure you were able to cross safely.  Someone gave up their Sunday to make sure you had a positive race experience. 


I try to volunteer for the community that supports me. It can be a challenge because I'm typically racing at the bigger events that need so many volunteers. But it's something that is very important to me. Usually ending up at the smaller races, it's fun to recognize local athletes on the course. Friends but also those people you just see at every race. Sometimes it's even a relief, "Whew. Glad I'm not racing HER today; she's looking extra strong!" Admit it, you know exactly who is in your AG. (wait, is that just me?)


Last fall I was looking for an opportunity when it hit me, IMTX! Clearly, I won't be racing and I don't know anyone well enough that is racing to need my sherpa services...so with (very) little arm twisting I signed myself and friends for stripping duty.


And I may have text the wrong number with the following: "Drum, I signed us up to strip in the men's changing tent!" Oops, that was supposed to be a joke. Not Drum was probably confused and horrified. Sigh.


But yeah, we will be stripping all morning (if wetsuits are needed. It's been so hot no tellin what the water temp will be) and catching  at the finish all afternoon. I'm REALLY excited about being at the finish.


After our catching duties are fulfilled we plan to spectate until the very end. Can't wait to holler my head off for these incredible athletes!


So the car is packed with sunscreen, cowbells, glow necklaces and enough Clif bars to choke a horse (and WHY would anyone want to choke a poor horse anyway?) and soon we'll be on the way to Houston!


Good luck to everyone racing IMTX!

Tres Tri

Early Saturday morning I headed to Decatur, Texas for a sprint tri, Texas Girl. A part of a  women only, beginner's tri series, I felt like it would give me the chance, with such a small field, to really practice racing and not just surviving.  I'm still very much a beginner!


Now, I'm not normally drawn to "women only" events.  Okay, yes, I once ran the Nike Women's Marathon, true.  But hello, San Francisco?  Plus, they do let men run that race.  I've got nothing against women specific events, I just don't seek them out.  I was a little worried that it might be an Everybody Wins, Let's All Hug type of event.  I couldn't have been more wrong.  The atmosphere of was wonderful! With only 100 athletes, the field was incredibly small and I recognized women on the course from the pre-race meeting and the swim line.  They had a show of hands and I would say most of the participants were racing their very first tri. And that's wonderful!  


My goal for this race was Hard.  Race hard.  I'm very comfortable with endurance racing but shorter distances elude me.  I just don't know how to gauge my effort when there is no time for correction.  I made a race plan.  Swim hard, pass if I need to.  Bike hard, all out effort the entire way.  Run even harder, do not run above an 8 min pace.  Totally doable, right?

Welp, the swim went perfectly.  No panic here.  I was seeded 48, so right smack in the middle.  (cause I'm slow, yo) The water was a toasty 85 degrees to no shock to the system when I slid in.  I took off and while my hard effort looks more like a leisurely swim, I was pleased.  I passed three women.  (but only at the wall, there were strict instructions on passing - they were very careful to make sure this wasn't an aggressive environment and I complied)  


Before I knew it I was out of the pool and running to T1.  Hopping on my bike, I stood up until I found a cadence I was happy with, just like Drum instructed.  Shannon, the RD, had warned me pre-race that the roads were in pretty bad shape and that I might not want to go all out. She wasn't kidding. Also, as soon as I started pedaling my legs remembered what I did to them last weekend and if they could talk, it would sound something like, "Oh no she di-in't!"  Bitter is the best way to describe my quads.  Ouch.  Still, I passed everyone I came across and was passed by no one.  (that doesn't mean I passed EVERYONE, just everyone I came upon)  I made sure to offer encouragement each time I passed a fellow racer.  I might be aggressive but I'm not a meanie. 


Heading out for the run I was soon in for a big surprise.  A good part of the run course was on trails. Whoops.  While I run on trails, and have raced on trails, I am NOT a trail runner.  I'm a road girl.  And this slowed me down tremendously.  Still, I passed every runner I came upon.  Once again, offering encouragement as I did so.  It rained lightly the entire time I was outdoors. I'll never turn down a light rain on a run!  Making my last big turn, a cyclist on a hybrid came up next to me, obviously struggling.  I told her to put it in an easy gear and spin fast, to ready her legs for the run. She said thanks, but didn't change gears.  I could tell by her cadence that she was in a hard gear.  So I ran beside her for bit calling out, "Spin baby, spin!"  Seeing what I thought was the finish, I picked up the pace. Turns out, I was wrong. It wasn't a straight shot.  I had to go through more grass!  Ugh.  Not my strong point.  


I have no idea what my total time was as there was only a timing mat for the pool entry and run finish. I saw a clock time, but as mentioned, I was much later getting in the water. My garmin revealed my bike and run times and I'm not entirely pleased with my effort.  I could have gone harder.  No excuses here. Tired legs, higgledy piggledy streets, rain, trails, whatever, I could have gone harder. But, that is the whole point of this summer, to really learn what my hardest effort feels like.  I'm still learning - it's only my third one!  


I'll figure it out eventually.  I'd like to pick up a 5K this month because I do know how to race that distance.  It's been forever since I raced a 5K and I need to find my racing legs again before my next sprint.  

Meeting the famous Shannon from Iron Texas Mommy!

Before our race started they had a kid's mini tri.  Oh mah guah, cuteness overload!  DK and Karen both had kiddos racing so we watched the little ones in the water.  Their boys both did great!  There was one tiny little thing, a girl in a rainbow goggles just like mine, she was about 5 or so.  She jumped in the water and fahreaked out.  The look of terror on her sweet little face, oh my heart hurt for her.  I've been there!  Her dad was at the pool's edge and fished her out.  But a few minutes later, she AND dad got back in the pool and she did it!  We all screamed and clapped as she made the entire length of the pool and back, dad swimming by her side. So stinkin' cute!  Almost makes me want to get a kid so I can make it do triathlon, ha!  Once she was out of the water and wrapped in a towel, I went over and high fived her, telling her how brave she was and to go balls out on the bike!  She smiled and nodded in agreement.  (okay, I might not have used the term balls out, but you get the idea)

Did you tri as a kid? Do your kiddos tri?

Love, Actually

This post has absolutely nothing to do with running or cycling or anything even remotely fitness related.  Consider yourself warned.


I've never been what you would call, schmoopy.  Not about love.  No judgies, I just didn't have that in my life.  Schmoopiness that is.  Valentines, anniversaries would come and go, passing as if any other day.  All those times in your life where romance was deemed necessary, just, nothing. And I rolled with it. As you can imagine, I was not really a Love Story kind of movie goer.  Truth be told, I'm not much of a movie goer at all. But given a choice, I'll always pick a documentary* at the Angelika over a blockbuster hit in a huge theater. (or at the Alamo Draft House coming soon to Dallas - quel excitement!)  Love stories?  Not my scene.  Let's just say war movies are much higher on my list.  And I'm not easily moved to tears over some on screen affair.  Now, Iwo Jima, yes.  Anyway.


Last summer a friend suggested I watch Love Actually.  Actually, I'd never heard of it much less seen it.  (I KNOW) But this advice was coming from a dude, so I thought maybe it would Actually be bearable. Like High Fidelity.  You know, a man's "love story."  


So I queued it up on Netflix and watched. And was in tears before the opening credits finished rolling. No joke.  I loved every single minute of it. "It's brilliant; it even writes on glass."  So much so, that as soon as it ended, I watched it again.  Who WAS this weepy Pink Girl?  Crying over, a, a LOVE STORY.  It was like the scene in How the Grinch Stole Christmas. You know, towards the end, when the Grinch hears the Whos singing, hand in hand, and his heart grows three sizes?  Welp, my shriveled little heart grew three sizes right then and there watching that film. It gavel me the courage to say, "Let's go get the sh!t kicked out of us by love!"  

(Photo is actually a screenshot from my iPad)

 It was a defining moment in my adult life - TPG learned to love a love story! Everybody say "awww" and breath a collective sigh of relief.  She's human after all!


And since that day last July, I've watched that film many times over and changed the way I view schmoopiness.  Instead of rolling my eyes, I'll smile and think of the happiness that schmoopiness brings to others.  Growing, this Pink Girl is growing.  And I rather like this new attitude.  


I was chatting online with friends today (yes, I'm basically 15) and the talk of holding hands let to marriage led to general schmoopiness about their husbands.  I love hearing my friends talk about how much they love their husbands, I do.  It gives me faith in marriage and what it can be.  I love, love.  I love the idea that two people can be so utterly devoted to one another and so entirely enamored of each other. Schmoopy.  Having nothing to contribute to the conversation, I just watched the tales of adoration pop up on the screen and smiled.  


And because pretty much everything in my life I can set to a soundtrack of sorts, I turned the conversation to "our song" and "first dance" conversations.  "Have I Told You Lately," "Fly Me to the Moon" and "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off" (so perfect for this couple!) were all mentioned. 


And I wondered, so, um, do other couples really have "our songs"?  So tell me, couples, what IS "your song"?  What did you two step to for your first dance at your wedding?  If you're engaged, what do you plan to dance to?  Do tell!


I'm curious about your schmoopy!  






*And if your'e looking for less schmoopy and a good documentary instead, queue up Ride the Divide!  No schmoopy to be found, promise.

Three Things Thursday

You know, Red is the one who came up with Three Things Thursday.  You know that, right?  Clever girl.

1.       I have been out of town the past two weekends.  Words cannot express how relieved I am to be in town!  So many exciting plans.  Like, ripping out the shrubs in the front of my house. They have some sort of worm/disease and are dying faster than you can say Jack Robinson.  I’ve been wanting to re-landscape that area for years so looks like this is nature’s way of saying, “Go for it!”  You are welcome to come over – I’ll even let you use the chainsaw.  I’m livin’ the life y’all.  Big pimpin’ at the Pink Compound.

 

2.       Saturday I’m racing Texas Girl, a little sprint tri.  I say little because it is aimed at beginners and the field is pretty small. I’m not sure what to expect.  I haven’t done a brick workout since, oh, before Galveston.  Whoops.  I don’t know anyone else racing so this will be a solo adventure.  While I prefer to spot a friendly face racing on the course (it motivates me to pick up the pace) at least there will be no witnesses if I take a spill on my bike or my legs fail me on the run. The rest of my races this season are filled with frunners and frikers so that should be a blast!

 

3.       I’ve started swimming with paddles some. Which basically means, I’ll soon drown.  This has really brought to my attention the fact that the left side of my body has no idea how to swim.  I’m surprised I don’t just swim in circles.  Truth. 

I don't know why this won't load the right way. 

 I DO know why I have crazy, puffy goggle eyes. Goggles.  Sigh.



Shiner GASP

The secret to happiness is having your own nut sack.  On the bike anyway.  I suspect in other areas of life as well.


More on my theory later. Just remember; nut sack = happiness


Ahem.


So, Friday, Violator and I packed my little vehicle to the gills and headed to Austin.  It was during the drive down that I got word that Adam "MCA" Yauch passed away at the age of 47.  EVERYONE knows how much I adore the Beastie Boys and EVERYONE knows that from the first time I ever heard Licensed to Ill back at Bowman Middle School that MCA was my very favorite.  That gravelly voice, his brilliant lyrics and later, his altruistic heart.    My phone started blowing up and talking it over with Violator, I *might* have shed a small tear.  So young, so brilliant, so much more to do. Imma miss you MCA; we all will.  So of course, for the rest of the weekend, since I was driving, we only listened to the BBoys.  

Violator at packet pickup. 

Packet pickup was at Jack and Adams where we enjoyed getting our shop on.  Violator picked up some necessities while I squealed with delight over some really cute tri kits.  Um, how necessary is THIS?  And how come our tri shops don't carry stuff like this? Not pink, but may just end up in my possession very soon...even if it is super thin and see through in the heiney region.  Eh, I saw plenty of buttcracks on the bike this weekend.

Next I had the pleasure of introducing Violator to Mellow Johnny's cycling shop where we met up with Ninja and Dat.  Okay, can I just say, the cycling community in Austin is so different that the North Dallas area where I live.  The city is dotted with cyclists just getting places.  More often than expensive matching kits and bikes that cost more than my car, you'll see guys and girls in flip flops and cargos just pedaling around the city.  And bikes shops GALORE, especially off Barton Springs.  It's like the Cycling District.  ("Oh, you mean the hammock district!"  Anyone?)


Oh yeah, I sorta forgot to mention that we were in Austin for the Shiner GASP.  It's a 100 mile bike ride from Austin to Shiner, TX, home of Shiner beer.  I signed up for this back in January when riding 100 miles in the hills and heat of Central Texas seemed like a good idea, fun even.  Let's just say that going in to it this weekend I was less than enthused.  After Aldeo, I resigned to riding the 50 mile route.  I'm just not a strong enough cyclist to handle all those hills for that distance.  100 miles is a long way y'all.  Like, far.  (is this news to anyone but me?)  


Our bikes safely secured in the hotel, we drove to Shiner to drop Dat's truck off at the brewery so that we'd have a way to get BACK to Austin post ride.  Driving out there, it really started to sink in just how FAR 100 miles is to ride.  (again, duh.  I never said I was brilliant with math) It was getting late and I was getting grouchy so we grabbed dinner in town. Lemme just say, tiny town Texas doesn't really offer many (any) vegetarian options.  The waiter kindly let me order off the kid's menu and I had grilled cheese.  My entire dinner cost less than Ninja's beer, ha!


We got back to Austin late and we were all exhausted.  The day before I considered packing a swimsuit and bailing on the ride all together in favor of hanging out at Barton Springs all day.  No, seriously.  I really didn't want to do this ride.  But I also didn't want to be a cotton headed ninnymuggins so I left my suit at home so I wouldn't have an out.  Sigh.

I don't know why I'm standing like a dork here.  It was early.

Rally morning came early and brought overcast skies and crazy humidity.  But I'll never complain about it being overcast in May!  Early on everyone was very clear that they were there to ride their own ride so when we got separated at the start I waved them on and wished them luck.  I had no desire to push the pace; I knew I'd need my legs and lungs for later.  Still, I managed to make it to mile 50 in about 21/2 hours.  That was my first rest stop.  Not exactly a race pace, with the wind, the hills and my lackluster enthusiasm, I was pleased.  

This is what I looked at for 100 miles. This and the butt in front of me.  

McMahan, TX founded 1832

At Mile 50, those riding the half GASP joined us.  I refilled my Camelbak with water and ice, glorious ice and crammed a tiny slice of pizza down my gullet.  One thing went really well this ride, I totally stayed on top of my nutrition plan.  Every hour I ate.  First, mini powdered sugar donuts, then Clif granola bars.  Annnd, this is where the happiness of having a nut sack comes in.  I struggle with eating on the bike and I struggle with just eating crap.  Crap that I would NEVER eat in my real life.  Donuts aside, the rest of the food I brought was in my normal repertoire.  Nuts are a great source of protein, fat and high in calories. Just what I needed to compliment all the sugary, carby snacks provided at the aid stations.  So every now and then, when I felt my energy waning, I'd reach down, feel around to find my nut sack and get my hands on those walnuts.  

No, really, see?  Walnuts and almonds!  I'm telling you, having a nut sack when cycling is pure genius.  You should get your own nut sack and see for yourself.  Ah, I cracked myself up thinking about this on the ride. Cracked, nuts, get it?  Okay, I'll stop.


Bored out of my mind, I was basically fine until about mile 75.  I just don't have enough thoughts to think for that long.  I need some entertainment y'all.  Right after 50 I talked to Ironman Greg for a bit.  He was using this as a training ride for IMTX in two weeks.  He informed me that the last 25 miles were "brutal."  Thanks for the encouragement dude.  Everyone I talked to that has ridden this course before agreed, the last bit is horrendous with really long hills and crazy wind.

Got stopped by a train at some point.  Much like me, the train had no caboose.  Wonder how well it climbs hills?

Oh, did I mention that it was hot? Riding out on the country highways there is no welcome shade, lots of hot wind and the blacktop roads just radiate heat.  I was sucking down water like it was my job and completely drained my Camelbak by mile 80.  You would have thought that instant death was going to occur.  I just fell apart without water.  I had heard rumor that the next aid station was at mile 85 and 5 miles seemed like 50.  Thirsty, defeated and just plain overheated, I pulled over at a church around mile 83.  There was a group there waiting under a shade tree for the sag wagon.  I laid my bike down, took off my helmet and sprawled out in the grass in an attempt to cool off.  My plan was to lie there for 5 minutes, but honestly it was probably closer to 20 minutes.  Annnd, I forgot to stop my Garmin.  The shade felt so good.  If I could just get my body temp down a bit, then I could muster the energy to make the next 3 miles without water.  


Usually, I handle heat really well.  I'm a skilled sweater.  As long as I can keep up with my hydration and salt, I've got a great balance of copious sweating and cooling.  What can I say, I'm from Texas; it is hot here.  But take away the water and I fall apart.  The sag eventually showed up and I begged the driver for some water.  He offered me coffee.  Uh, no.  Then he remembered he had a water bottle and offered me a sip.  He said I could take the lid off so I didn't get his "cooties."  Ha!  I replied, "Dude, I'd french kiss you for this bottle of water; I'm THAT thirsty."  And, I took it all. Hey, he's got a vehicle and access to more.  Of course, none of this happened before I tried to talk several riders out of getting on the sag.  They all did.  Oh well, I tried. So I laboriously climbed back on my bike and rode off at my painfully slow pace.  


I made it to the last aid station, filled up with water and more ice then sat under a gazebo with other tired cyclists for a bit.  Actually, much longer than a bit.  Fifteen miles seemed like forever.  And in all honesty, would probably take me 2 more hours as slowly as I was going.  No joke, by this point I was beyond exhausted and the combination of hills, head and wind kicked my pink butt.  It did give me some comfort to see so many other struggling too. Nice to know I wasn't just being a wuss.  


That last leg was indeed brutal.  Long hills that went on forever.  And ever.  At this point I was going about 6mph. And unlike the earlier, steeper hills which offered a nice down hill, these did not.  The wind was so strong that I was luck to get to 18 on the downhill.  I can tuck down really small, my size is an advantage there, but I don't have the weight to use gravity to the fullest.  Those big boys on the bike can really get to rolling, even with the wind.  But I'm half their weight.  The wind just tossed me around and a few times I really thought I was going to lose control. And a part of me thought I'd be relived to fall.  Medical came around a lot more often than sag!  


The sides of the highway were littered with spent cyclists just sitting or sprawled out on the shoulder.  That was really disheartening.  And then I'd see men, MEN, walking their bikes up the hill.  I got lower and lower; it looked like  war zone of bikers.  People just everywhere looking hurt, sad and haggard.  There is no way I would have gotten off my bike to walk.  No way.  As slow I was going, I knew as long as I kept pedaling I'd eventually get to the top.  Right?  Although, the thought crossed my mind many times that I could have RUN faster than I was riding.  Even in my Sidis.  Sigh.


And then it happened.  At mile 93 I had a total mental breakdown.  I pulled over on a bridge under some shade.  Hanging my head over my handle bars, I was done.  Totally over this ride.  If I had someone to call, I would have.  This was NOT fun anymore.  I'd been riding for 7 hours in the searing heat, I was out of water AGAIN (came across a girl who missed the last aid station so I gave her half of my Camelbak...like I could deny her water) and just totally defeated.  I got off my bike, sat on the guard rail and put my head in my hands.  There was a man sitting about 6 feet away from me, on the phone, crying.  This didn't not help my mental state.  BOYS DON'T CRY.  Sheesh.  Closing my eyes, I needed to get outta my head.  I signed up for this.  Heck, I PAID FOR THIS.  It was a stupid decision.  I wasn't prepared for this distance or the hills.  And I'm racing next weekend. Dumb, dumb, dumb to trash my legs the week before a race.   

Ponton Creek, the sight on my little meltdown.  William Ponton for whom it is named, was scalped by Comanches.  Bad juju at this creek.

Dude next to me might have been weepy, but there was no way I was going to shed tears over a stupid bike ride.  Hey, we do this for fun.  And while I had stopped having fun 25 miles ago, I'm stronger than some stinkin' hill.  Here is what I know, I chose to do this.  And there is no way in hell that I was NOT going to finish.  Not at mile 93.  So I did something that I think is terribly unsafe and of which I do not approve.  Do as I say kids, not as I do.  I plugged in one earbud and started up my iPod.  Selecting the Rainbow Sparkle playlist, I got back on my bike and began pedaling at a painfully slow pace.  The first artists were, Cake, Goldfinger, Cake, Cake and Self.  Not too shuffly Apple, but I thought, "Dang, woman, you make a sick playlist!"  


And I rode to town.  My friends were waiting for me, shouting and cheering. Violator met me at the finish and hugged me tight, so relieved to see me.  My phone wasn't on and they were concerned that I had dropped, or worse. Sadly, there were a lot of ambulances called out yesterday.  I drove by a few accidents involving blood and broken bones.  


They took my bike, my helmet and it wasn't long before I had some nachos in one paw and a Shiner in the other.  I'm not a beer drinker but at this point, anything cold would do.  Plus, I had ridden all the way to the brewery, it only seemed fitting.  

Spoetzl Brewery, the finish line.

So.  I finished.  Did I have fun? Eh.  It was a stupid decision the week before a race.  Am I glad I finished?  You bet.  No matter how painful, how miserable, it made me a stronger cyclist.  I'll take that with me forever.  Will I do it again?  This rally?  Probably not. It was well run but I have no desire to ride those same 100 miles ever again.  Ask me in a week, my answer might be different.  But I do have another 100 miler later this summer.  (on a much flatter course!)   

So happy to see my friends!  With Violator, Ninja and Dat.

Here is what I know about endurance sports; they either make you or break you.  I refuse to be broken.  The lessons I learn in racing and riding I can apply in all areas of my life.  When you're going through hell, just keep moving; you'll eventually get to the other side.


And a nut sack.  Get your hands on a nut sack.

OKC Marathon - Spectating Recap

Saturday afternoon Drum and I headed to OKC to spectate the crap out of our friends running the OKC Memorial Marathon.  As much as I LOVE racing, cheering is pretty high on my list.  Y’all know I can be loud and what Pink Girl doesn’t love an opportunity to dress up silly like and make a fool of herself?  Exactly.

We arrived later in the evening as Drum rode the Germanfest rally earlier in the day.  Joining them for dinner already in progress, we had a blast catching up with each other’s lives.  Let me just go on the record stating that I pink sparkle heart each of these incredible people.  I’m a blessed girl to have such supportive and encouraging friends.  So at the opportunity to pay back just a teeny bit of the support I’ve received from them at races, well I jumped!

Me (duh), Marci, Mama C, Drum, Erik & Michelle (Team K) and Robert

Setting up camp at the hotel, we then set about the business of taking great care to plot out the best spots on the course to see our friends.  Spectating is a skill y’all.  To ensure you are at critical locations along the course, you must consider road closings along with how much time you’ll have at each designated mile.  We didn’t want to miss anyone and some of our runners were tackling the full while others were gunning for a half PR.  And of course, all different paces!  Stressful stuff y’all because we didn’t want to let anyone down.

Yes, Drum and I slept on the floor.  Wanted to make sure our runners were well rested!

Good golly Pete morning came early.  And not without rain and even hail during the night.  My little pallet was comfortable enough but y’all know I’m prone to insomnia as it is, add the anxiety of negotiating my spectating plan and I spent most of the night , earbuds in, drifting in and out of sleep. 

Frunners!

After plenty of photos, hugs and well wishes we sent our runners off to the start (our hotel was deliciously close to the race start, good job Mama C!) Not wanting to get stuck downtown, Drum and I hopped in the car before the road closings began. Which meant, we had about 2 hours to kill before we could expect to see even our fastest runner at Mile 6.

Erik of Team K looking strong at Mile 6.  He ran a fantastic half!

Drum!  

It wasn't hard to spot Mama C in her burnt orange!

This guy had eagle feathers!

Spectator FAIL!  I missed a few of our runners at Mile 6, despite standing on a bench to get a better view.  AND I left my carefully crafted pink sparkle signs at the hotel.  Side note, Marci bestowed the great honor of my very own FIGJAM shirt – custom color pink! 

Spotting the last of our ten runners, we realized we could catch them unexpectedly at Mile 12.  Woo hoo for happenstance!  At this point the half had already split from the full so we got to surprise our full marathoners.  Parking our cowbell happy selves right after a water stop, it was fun to see the look of surprise when they saw familiar faces!  Lemme tell you, runners love the cowbell.  Strangers faces would light up as I waved my hands and hollered their names.  If I couldn’t read a name I’d just call them out by some identifying characteristic.  “Way to go mustache man!” or “Yea Pink Lady, love those socks!”  I know how much it means to hear your name, as silly as that sounds, so I tried to call out as many athletes as I could. 

Psycho was a little excited to see a familiar face at Mile 12.

Marci, right before she recognized us. Surprise!

Robert looking strong for the second half.

Satisfied that we had spotted everyone, I maneuvered my way around town to drop Drum off before mile 20 so that she could run Marci in.  Now I was on my own, trying to navigate in an unfamiliar city with plenty of closed streets!  Fortunately, the marathon had a free app with a great interactive course map.  That was so helpful; good job OKCM!  The runner tracking, not so much.  It was really far behind and even at Mile 12 still showed that my runners hadn’t crossed the starting mats.  Whoops.

Eventually Mama C found me at Mile 23. She walked the three miles from the finish after racing her half!

Team K was with her - they both ran great races!

Saw Cassie and Elaine on the course - all smiles!

This guy carried this ginormous flag the entire 26.2 miles!

I did my civic duty and ran with these firemen for a while.  I'm just patriotic like that.  I mean seriously, is there a law or something that says firemen must be cutie patooties?

These guys cracked me up!

Ran a bit with Elizabeth who is training for Comrades!  She ran 10 miles after the marathon.  A machine, that woman.

I ran with each of my friends for a bit as they came by.  Some needed more encouragement than others.  I witnessed a sniffly woman running by, looking like she'd just lost her best friend.  I jumped in to run with her, asking what was the matter.  "It just hurts SO MUCH!" she answered with a quivering lip.  "Of course it hurts, it's a marathon!  If it didn't, more people would do this!"  Oh yes, she got classic TPG wisdom. We have a phrase in our group, "DCTS!" or "Don't coddle that sh!t!"  I noticed her purple TNT shirt and talked to her about that and reminded her that she was running for a great cause.  I think she was just overwhelmed with the realization that at Mile 23, she was really going to complete a marathon!  Satisfied that she was okay, I hugged her tight and sent her on  her way.  

Mile 23 will do that to you.  It's often further than most people have trained and the hurt is great at that point.  I rang my bell, danced to the music, hollered my head off and just tried to get the runners to smile a bit as they trudged up the hill.  If I could have run all of my friends in the last three miles, I would have.  I've been there many times racing and I know what it feels like.  That last 5K feels like forever!

Eventually we spotted our girl.  There she is, at the very spot she was pulled off the course last year, looking strong!

We yelled and we cheered, we clapped, we jumped and we celebrated her victory.  I ran with Drum and Marci to the top of the hill and then we hopped in the car, hoping to make it to the finish to see our friends cross the last timing mat.  Sadly, we missed everyone.  

Marci getting a classic "A frame" hug from Michelle.  She tells us she uses hugs, like the f bomb, sparingly, so it's more effective, ha!  

I love these women!

Oh my cries I had a great weekend.  I love my friends so SO much.  

They are a GREAT group of individuals and I'd run an entire marathon with any one of them if they asked.  Note, I did NOT race but I'm wearing a bib because you had to have one on to get to the finish line.  So, Erik sorta loaned me his.  Hey, I had to be there to hug Marci!

You can read their own race recaps here:

Mama C

Robert

Marci

Team K, oops, well, still waiting on HERS!

It was an honor and a privilege to spectate my runners and I can't wait for the opportunity to do it again!  I'll be racing next weekend and I'll carry with me their determination, grit and enthusiasm for the sport.  And if you see me on the course, crying, just yell, "DCTS!", slap me on the rear and send me on my way.  Cause, that's what I'd do for you!