CNN Heroes of 2008

My husband and I recently watched CNN's Heroes of 2008 on television. While all of the stories and the top 10 heroes were inspiring, one story in particular resonated with me. It is the story of a runner by the name of Anne Mahlum. The question she asked of herself; "Why am I running past these guys?", made me realize that we all run past things on a daily basis that we could choose to get involved with or make a difference. Here is Anne's story:

PHILADELPHIA, Pennsylvania (CNN) -- At 5 a.m. on any given day, Anne Mahlum could be found running the dark streets of Philadelphia -- with homeless men cheering her on as she passed their shelter. But one morning last spring, she stopped in her tracks.

"Running really is a metaphor for life," Anne Mahlum says. "You just have to take it one step at a time."

"Why am I running past these guys?" recalls Mahlum, 27. "I'm moving my life forward every day -- and these guys are standing in the same spot." Instead of continuing to pass them by, the veteran marathoner sprang into action so they could join her.

She contacted the shelter, got donations of running gear, and in July 2007 the "Back On My Feet" running club hit the streets. The first day, Mahlum led nine shelter residents in a mile-long run. Today, Back on My Feet has teams in three Philadelphia shelters, including 54 homeless members and more than 250 volunteers. The group has logged more than 5,000 miles.

Requirements for shelter residents to join are simple -- they must live in an affiliated facility and be clean and sober for 30 days. Members receive new shoes and running clothes, and teams run together three times a week between 5:30 and 6 a.m. The runners are diverse -- doctors, janitors, students and shelter residents -- but such distinctions aren't apparent.

"All you can tell is who's the fastest," says Mahlum. "You can't tell who's homeless and who's not." For Mahlum and others, Back On My Feet is more than a running club.

I could just file this away in my memory as a nice, compelling story. If Anne's story is indeed compelling, what am I compelled to do? How might I go about taking that one step at a time that Anne refers to in her story? That one step would begin with noticing what I do "run past" on a daily basis. How might I make a difference? What will that action step look like?

There are certainly many people in our society who are constantly passed by. What if we all decided to do things differently? What if we actually answered the question; "Who me?" or "When, now?" with a resounding "Yes!".

http://backonmyfeet.org/main/index.html

Reflective or Radiant

A couple of days ago I read the following description of two types of people:

Reflective - people who take things in
Radiant - people who beam light out

Since the Christmas season is filled with shiny things, this thought captured my attention. Wouldn't it be wonderful to do both?

1) Your outward behavior is a direct reflection of the state your inner being
2) The people you tend to surround yourself with are a reflection of you
3) People may forget what you said or did, but they will always remember how you made them feel.

Christmas time seems to be a perfect time to reflect on what's most important and then let that shine to those around us.

Now on to a more serious topic. Do you like tinsel? I, for one, do not care for tinsel on the tree. Being a person who prefers things to be orderly, tinsel simply does not cooperate. Tinsel is not orderly! It manages to follow you everywhere, stuck to your clothing with static electricity. Naturally you find stray pieces of tinsel long after Christmas is over.

Maybe tinsel is trying to remind us of something important. Something to do with being both reflective and radiant in our lives.

Merry Christmas!

For those wondering about how tinsel came to be added to a Christmas tree....

The addition of tinsel as decoration comes from a legend about a poor old woman who was unable to provide decorations for her children's Christmas tree. During the night, spiders lodged in the tree and covered it with their webs. The Christ Child, seeing this, realized that the woman would be sad to see her surprise spoiled. He turned the spider webs into silver, and the next morning the poor family was dazzled by the brilliant "tinsel" that shone on the tree.

Tinsel was invented in Germany around 1610. At that time real silver was used, and machines were invented which pulled the silver out into the wafer thin strips. Though it was durable, it tarnished easily, so some attempt was made to make tinsel with lead and tin. This proved too heavy and breakable, so silver was actually used until the mid 20th century. Today, the tinsel we use is made generally of plastic.

Are You a Spotted Zebra or a Striped Zebra?

In my continued reading of the presentations at the ICF (International Coach Federation) conference in Montreal, I came across the following description of a zebra:

"A spotted zebra is an individual who has discovered there is more to who they are than the stripes they were born with or have acquired, such as limiting beliefs or comfort zones."

State of the Union

This is the time of year that I usually have my coaching clients reflect on the current year and consider what they want the new year to look like. Imagine if you were standing at a podium about to deliver a "State of the Union" address about the "state of your life". The audience members? Everyone and everything that makes up your life - your family, friends, finances, health, level of energy/fitness, amount of sleep you get each night, personal/spiritual growth, contribution and making a difference in the world...

Then imagine that a representative from each of these areas of your life is standing in the audience, notepad in hand, hastily jotting down your current view along with your promises for the new year.

I happened to be reading a review of the International Coach Federation conference which was held in Montreal. One of the speakers was Peter Senge from MIT. He was looking at the reasons behind the high mortality rate of corporations and identified the following four components of lasting companies:

1) Identity - who we are transcends what we do
2) Tolerance - described as being open to not knowing
3) Fiscal conservatism
4) Sensitivity to environment

As I read this, it occurred to me those four components are not just found in long lasting companies. When you consider the qualities of people you most respect and enjoy being around, you will probably discover they are mindful of these four things.

There is a quote that says; "People may forget what you did or said, but they will always remember how you made them feel". WHO are you as you move through your world? What feeling do you leave behind that speaks louder than anything you say or do?

How tolerant are you? Are you open to not knowing? Or are you holding so tightly to the right answer, your opinion, or your view of how things are, that you can't see things another way?

I would take fiscal conservatism a step farther. Where do you spend not just your money, but also your time? Do you spend wisely? Are you overdrawn? Do you continually allow others to make a withdrawal from your bank account until you are depleted? (Saying "yes" to others all the time, rather than choosing to say "no".) Are you guilty of the same behavior yourself? How often do you make a deposit in your own savings account? (Getting extra sleep, taking care of yourself, creating some quiet time for yourself, eating healthy, getting some exercise, walking outside, deep breathing, etc.) Or, perhaps you are making continual withdrawals from someone else's account?

How sensitive are you to the environment around you? This not only includes being mindful of living green literally, but living green figuratively. Have you cleaned up after your own messes? Do you leave your family, your relationships, a gathering of friends, or a conversation in a better place than it was when you arrived? If you were truly an environmentalist in your work and personal life, what things would you be doing? Not doing? What would people notice?

Are you sensitive to (and aware of) the impact you have on the people in your life? Is it the impact you want to have? If your sensitivity allows you to answer "no" to this question, what behavior or action will allow you to self-correct and get back on track?

Mountain Home for Kenya Marathon

Race Results:
Time 4:41:00
24th overall (out of 52)
7th overall female
1st in age group



The take-away from this race is: Do not run a marathon that has the word "mountain" in its name. There were 60 runners registered for the race including two handcyclists. On race morning only 52 runners finished and 2 handcyclists. I'm not sure if the other 6 elected not to run because of the weather conditions or if they failed to finish.

The weather conditions made it difficult to decide what to wear. I took a stack of clothing options in the car to the race start so that I could change last minute. Ultimately I chose shorts, 2 long-sleeve technical shirts, a wind vest, a fleece headband and gloves. The temperature was around 39 degrees with strong winds (18 sustained, 30 mph gusts). The windchill probably never got out of the low 30's. We encountered a bit of sleet, which was fortunately short-lived, just to make it fun.

The hills were unbelievably challenging. One of the runners (who ran a 3:21) had this to say about the course:

"I have a lot of rolling hills in southern Michigan where I live," he said, "but they're not this bad. There were a couple in opportune places, though. If I have time the day before, I'll go out and drive a course and get a feel for it. I'm really glad I didn't drive this course, because if I'd have known how hilly it would be, I would've been unmotivated from the very beginning."

Diana and I did drive the course the evening before. We were glad that we did because it gave us a good idea of what we were in for on marathon morning. I found it helpful to know where the hilliest sections were and especially what the last 6 miles looked like. Miles 22, 23 and 24 each had a significant hill. Fortunately the large Rottweiler (about the size of a small cow) which was checking out the course (around mile 8) as we were driving the course, was nowhere to be seen on race day. We had the feeling he was scouting out the course and trying to remember the best spot for picking off runners during last year's marathon.

The first half went well - my legs did not feel tired from the long drive the day before like they had at the Marshall Marathon 13 days ago. However, around mile 16 I started to feel the hills and my pace slowed. The wind and cold, combined with the fatigue from running so many hills was beginning to take its toll. For me, getting cold is a very big problem. Once I get that cold I have trouble maintaining my pace.

Between mile 24 and 25 I was playing cat and mouse with two female runners. They would pull ahead of me, and the I would pull ahead of them. I thought one of them looked to be in my age group, so at mile 25 I pulled away from them determined to finish ahead. I resisted the temptation to look back and see how close they were. I did not want them to know I was concerned or that I was tired. It turned out to be a good strategy as one of them was in my age group. She finished 29 seconds behind me for 2nd in the age group.

I must have looked very cold to the finish line volunteers because they quickly found a blanket from the medical area to wrap around me. They were not handing blankets out to all the finishers, so I'm sure my shivering was a clue as to how cold I was.

The post-race food included 7 or 8 choices of soup - vegetable beef, a curried "something", chicken noodle, 2 kinds of chili, minestrone, ham & bean to name a few. The soup tasted wonderful and helped warm me up. I had trouble carrying my bowl of soup because I was still shivering so the soup was spilling over the sides.

After our post-race meal, we headed back to the hotel, took quick showers and hit the road for our 8 hour drive home. The trip home was long, but uneventful. We stopped in Rolla, MO at an Applebee's for dinner, and had a Snickers ice cream bar for a treat later on.

Surprisingly on Sunday morning I was not very sore - very tired overall, but not sore. I did manage to get on the bike for 25 minutes for a little light spinning.

*A big shoutout to my husband Howard who announced on Sunday morning; "Marathons are over for the year, time to start Ironman training". Thank you Coach!

Marshall University Marathon Race Report

Time: 4:15:44 (Boston qualifying time)
Overall place: 175/342 total runners
Age group place: 3rd
Place among all females: 40/127

Weather conditions:
90% humidity at race start
Approx 48-50 degrees at start (the website shows 42 at start, not sure how they came up with that since the Weather Channel in our hotel showed 46 degrees for Huntington 2 hours before race start).
It warmed up very quickly, bright sun, probably around 70 by the end of the race

Cons:
*"Free" pasta dinner the night before had a lengthy line (they ran out of spaghetti and had to cook more). It was just ok - paper plate with small portion of spaghetti w/ sauce (no meat in sauce), slice of bread and small lettuce salad
*Since we registered late we weren't eligible for the choice of fleece or technical shirt. We got a long-sleeve cotton T-shirt. All the shirts were missing the date of the marathon. (The race director sent out an e-mail informing us of that)
*The roads were not great - lots of potholes, slanted roads and rough railroad track crossings
*Very few spectators along the course, but it was a small marathon so I was not surprised
*No timing mat at the start - I started back by Diana (I often will run with her for the first bit to warm up) and then realized I had just lost 30-40 seconds due to no mat at the start line
*No clocks or timing mats on the course except at Mile 13 (that was odd, because it wasn't at 13.1 as you would expect)
*Course was a little confusing in a couple of places with arrows on the ground to direct you
*No extras along the course, except for pretzels (no bananas, oranges, gummie bears, or gels of any kind)
*Very steep ramp into the stadium (so steep it really wasn't runable at all)
*Finish line had pizza (didn't look appealing because it was hot outside, the pizza looked greasy), cookies, bagels, but nothing salty like chips

Pros:
*Plenty of fluids on the course
*Running on the crushed limestone path in the park was nice and offered shade - nice relief as miles 13-20 were in the open and very sunny
*Portions of the course where you could see other runners (ahead or behind of you) were nice
*During last mile, they handed out flowers in memory of plane crash victims which you could place in the memorial fountain
*Running the football into the end zone was really cool!
*The awards for age groups were beautiful! I received a handblown Blenko glass buffalo (Thundering Herd)
*Very cool medal - similar to Flying Pig medal with the 3-D effect (front of buffalo and then the back of the buffalo with his tail)
*There truly weren't any hills to speak of, so even though this was in West Virginia, hills were not a factor

It Was a Dark & Cold & Spooky Morning

Well, it must be true. Winter must be on its way. This morning I got up at 5:00 AM to run my 6-mile hill course out in Downs. It was dark, cold (40 degrees) and windy. I started running shortly after 5:30 and soon spotted a pair of bright yellow eyes staring at me along the roadside. I'm not sure exactly what animal those eyes belonged to - I'm guessing they belonged to a cat, but I will say the eyes were high enough up that it was a large one. I continued running along and heard many noises. I believe most of them were falling hedge apples from the Hawthorne trees. It's funny how your imagination can play with you when running alone in the country in the dark. It still wasn't light when I completed my run and returned to the safety and warmth of my car.

It might be a good time for an update on my upcoming races:

Sunday, Nov. 2nd - Marshall University Marathon (Huntington, West Virginia)

I'll need to practice my football carries for the finish line photo.

"The highlight is to run through Marshall University campus on their way to a goal-line finish in Marshall Football Stadium. Footballs will be available to carry in the final 100 yards if desired!

We have a limited amount of flowers that are handed out as you enter campus (at Old Main on Hal Greer Blvd. and 4th Avenue, just beyond the 25 mile mark). This is a memorial for the plane crash victims from November 14th, 1970 (for which the movie We are Marshall was made). Those taking the flower are asked to put this in a basket 200 yards away at Memorial Fountain."

Sunday, Nov. 9th - Jingle Bell 5K (Bloomington)

Sunday, Nov. 23rd - Gobbler Grind Marathon (Overland Park, Kansas)

Thursday, Nov. 27th - Thanksgiving Day Turkey Trot (Bloomington)

Sunday, December 7th - Frostbite Festival 10 Mile (Springfield)

Sat./Sun. Jan. 10 & 11th - Goofy Challenge (1/2 marathon Sat., full marathon Sun.)

Monday, April 20th - Boston Marathon

My Very Own Sir Edmund Hillary

Our two days after the St. George Marathon were spent hiking in Zion National Park. Sunday we took it a little easier because I was pretty sore - especially my quads, which made hiking downhill painful. We did hike all day long, finishing our last hiking route (western part of the park) around 6:00 PM.

Monday was to be our more strenuous hiking day. We were well-prepared with a lunch of peanut butter sandwiches, trail mix, energy bars, apples and plenty of water. Unfortunately for me, Monday morning I had even more difficulty coming down the stairs at our condo due to incredibly sore quads. I'm not sure if the hiking on Sunday lessened the soreness or increased it. None the less, I had a full day of hiking ahead of me. I was determined not to whine - whimper maybe, but not all out whining.

Our first hike was the 2.5 mile hike "up canyon" (5 miles round trip). As we started this hike up the rock face of the mountain, we could see tiny little people moving along the mountainside. Surely we weren't going to be where those people were? Or were we? The trail was wide enough to not be too scary - just enough room for someone coming down to pass by. It was narrow enough to be somewhat scary at the steep drop off sections. The climb was pretty strenuous, especially the section called "Walter's Wiggles" - a series of 21 switchbacks up the mountain to our destination of Scout's Landing.

At this point, there was the option to continue on to the ultimate destination of Angel's Landing shown in the picture above. This climb includes steep drop offs on both sides (a mere 800 and 1200 ft or so), with chains provided in some, but not all, sections of the climb. I tried climbing a small portion of it, turned around to test the quads (for coming back down) and quickly ascertained this was not the time for me to attempt the climb.

After looking at what I thought was the climb, I did not want my husband, Howard to climb it. Although I know he has great balance, no fear of heights, I was concerned about the strenuous nature of the climb to the summit and the fact that it was unforgiving in terms of making a mistake. A mistake could mean falling off the mountain.

Of course he went anyway. Little did I know that the most challenging part of the climb was hidden from our view. You can see it well in the photo. Yup, he climbed up that! And, most importantly, down that! Yikes!

He returned safely and then took my sister up to the "false summit" section - by the tree in the photo. Great! Now I had both my husband and my sister on the mountainside. The climb up went well. Shelley took a look at where the real summit was and decided it was a perfect time to come down. She had conquered a lot of fear to climb this first section. Howard proved to be a very patient co-climber, telling her where to place her hand or foot and providing a "security hand" when they were on a section without the chain.

All appeared to be going well on the way down, until a girl slipped and nearly fell off the mountain. Howard said he could hear the sound of her backpack and body scraping along the rocks as she let go of the chain, slid off the path, and dropped onto a ledge about 3 ft below. Beyond that ledge? Absolutely nothing except about 1500 ft of free fall. Fortunately she was able, with her boyfriend's help, to scramble back up on the trail. Howard was only a couple of climbers away from the girl, so he had a pretty good view of what had happened.

I was very happy when my two climbers returned safely! Now all we had to do was hike down the same 2.5 miles. Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! It was starting to get rather warm and we were thankful we were headed down, rather than up.

I give Howard all the credit in the world for tackling that climb to Angel's Landing. The photo does not do justice to just how scary and difficult that climb was. I would like to attempt the false summit when I'm not sore from a marathon. I'm guessing the true summit at Angel's Landing would remain out of my reach. I also give my sister, Shelley, all the credit in the world. She does have a fear of heights, or at least a desire to have her feet firmly on the ground, and her balance is not great. She had to let go of fear and step into trust in order to make that climb.

As Sir Edmund Hillary said; "It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves". Howard and Shelley both accomplished exactly that.

After that we hiked several other routes - all of them spectacular in their beauty. On our very last hike of the day we had the pleasure of seeing a tarantula! Although, I am not fond of spiders, it surprisingly was not scary to see the tarantula outdoors. After all, it was in its natural environment, it seemed perfectly normal and rather unintimidating. Not that I would want to see one in our house!

We'd love to go back to Zion National Park. It was truly a beautiful place.

"The explorers of the past were great men and we should honour them. But let us not forget that their spirit lives on. It is still not hard to find a man who will adventure for the sake of a dream or one who will search, for the pleasure of searching, not for what he may find."

~Sir Edmund Hillary

Boston.... One Thousand One, One Thousand Two.... No Boston

Before the St. George, Utah marathon, a good friend reassured me that it doesn't rain in Utah, and it tends not to have the kind of wind we have in central Illinois. AJ also told me that she had yet to see a tarantula in the outdoors of Utah. My experience in Utah was about to disprove all three of these "stats".

When I stepped outside of our condo in St. George on race morning, I was surprised to find it was sprinkling. I quickly ran back inside to grab my Boston marathon hat. Once at the marathon finish area, all of the runners boarded buses for the trek 26.2 miles up the canyon. The rain began to fall harder and the wind picked up. The temperature also dropped from the warm 72 degrees in St. George to probably 20 (or more) degrees cooler at the start area. Since there was no shelter from the rain, most of us tried to stay warm and dry using whatever we could (a mylar blanket from a previous marathon for me).

Once the race began, we had to reluctantly toss aside throw-away layers, garbage bags and mylar blankets in order to run. By mile 2 I told myself this would most likely not be a day for a Boston Marathon qualifying time. Even though I let go of my firm grip/attachment exactly what my race would look like, I did not let go of my pace. I decided to just run what I could run.

I was running with the 4:15 pace group. Our pace group leader said that we would be running fairly even splits except at the "big hill" called Veyo hill at Mile 7. We would be slowing down on the 4 mile section from mile 7-11. I pulled ahead of the pace group around Mile 5. I was running well within myself, and thought this would provide a nice cushion on the hills if I needed it.

I was surprised to see how big "the hill" was when I first saw what was in front of me. We don't have hills like that in Illinois. I was surprised when I arrived at Mile 11 without the 4:15 pace group catching up to me. Apparently I am a better hill runner than I thought. My five weeks of hill training paid off. This gave me time for a much needed porta-potty stop. When I stepped out of the porta-potty, being tempted to stay in the warmth it provided, I saw the 4:15 pace group which had just passed by while I was inside.

I was greeted at Mile 16 by my own cheering section consisting of my husband, Howard and my sister, Shelley, both nicely outfitted in rain ponchos. I pulled over alongside of them and told them I was doing ok, but freezing. Once I continued running they agreed that I looked so cold, they doubted I would be able to get my goal time.

I was truly suffering from the cold, the rain and the constant headwind on this point-to-point course. I stopped twice at a Bengay/massage station between Mile 13 and Mile 22. My leg muscles were so cold, I knew I had to find some way to stay warm. Even though this cost me a couple of minutes, I knew without doing something I would only slow down.

By Mile 22 I was surprised to look at my watch, do some quick math calculations and realize I could still get the Boston Marathon qualifying time. I was going to have to hustle to do it and the next four miles were really going to hurt. I put my head down, ran hard down the remaining downhills and went for it.

As I came into the finish line area, I heard Howard and Shelley cheering for me. I only gave them a quick glance and a "I think I made it" as I ran for the finish. I stopped my watch. It showed 4:15:58 - one second within the qualifying time I needed (you have the extra 59 seconds, so unless it ticked over to 4:16, I got the time).

Shelley and Howard actually didn't think I did have the time because of already seeing the 4:15 pace leader come in. However, they didn't know exactly when I crossed the start line or how much he came in under 4:15 (4:14:30). We had to wait until we could verify my finish time online much later that evening.

My time? 4:15:57! Two seconds to spare. Boston here I come!

It's Inevitable

"So many of our dreams at first seem impossible, then they seem improbable, and then, when we summon the will, they soon become inevitable. " ~ Christopher Reeve

Like many people, when I first watched Ironman on television it seemed like an impossible dream. Gradually it moved to improbable - how could a person who had never clipped into a road bike, never done any open water swimming, never participated in sports growing up, complete an Ironman?

This Ironman dream is not something I am willing to walk away from. It's not something I'm willing to leave undone. Since the word "willing" just showed up in the last two sentences, I believe it is time to summon the will, to step fully into my Ironman dream.

• I have a wonderful "Iron Grandma" sweatshirt given to me by two of my daughters for my 2007 Ironman attempt (a knee injury 10 days out from race day kept me from completing the bike portion , although I did get through that scary 2.4 mile swim with 2000 friends in the mass start). It has my two beautiful granddaughters names embroidered on it - Ella & Madison. Now two more grandchildren will be here before Ironman 2009 and their names will be embroidered on that sweatshirt as well. Perhaps my sweatshirt was waiting for 2 more names.


• It is time to let go of the fear and step into trusting in my self and the training.


• Who says a grandma necessarily smells like fresh-baked cookies, old soap, and hairspray? This grandma is perfectly ok with smelling like lake water, Gatorade and, at times, sweat.


• I now know that there will be times (many of them most likely) when I'm not sure I can do this. In those moments I can choose to believe in those people around me who do believe I can complete Ironman 2009. Those moments of doubt will pass.


• I know what to focus on in my training this year - more weight training in the winter to gain strength, continue yoga (1x per week) throughout the entire training to prevent injury, lots of time in the pool and on the bike.


• Get outside on the bike earlier in the season.


• Remember to appreciate my friends and especially my family who are supporting me. Ironman is not an individual sport. Once I signed up to participate, my entire family has signed up along with me. I couldn't do it without each one of you. Thank you. I will make you proud. It's inevitable.

Ironman Wisconsin 2009 Participant

After lengthy discussion with my family, I have decided to sign up for Ironman Wisconsin (affectionately known as IM-Moo) 2009. The online application was completed and "submit" button was clicked on. Training will officially begin after the Disney Goofy Challenge in January.

Good Enough is Not Good Enough

Autism 5-K Race (Sunday)
Time: 26:35 (distance 3.29 miles)
Pace: 8:03 per mile
2nd female overall/54 total females (30 seconds behind overall female winner)
1st in age group
16th/97 total runners


Saturday's training schedule called for a 20-mile run. I was still feeling the effects of running in Hurricane Ike, the 6-mile hill workout on Wednesday morning and the race pace run on Thursday evening. Most of the run went along just fine. I was running by myself for almost the entire run. I had one more 5-mile section to complete when I came back into the Amtrak Station. I told Howard (my husband) that I was thinking 19 miles might be "good enough". He replied; "Good enough is not good enough". Of course those words stuck with me. And naturally I completed the entire 20 miles not a mere "good enough" 19 miles.

We all have (and need) those people around us who encourage us to stretch more, challenge ourselves more, or reach higher than we may be considering in the moment. A question I might have considered on Saturday morning, would have been:

"If I knew obtaining a Boston Marathon qualifying time depended on completing 20 training miles rather than 19 miles, which would I choose?"

Now all that's left to do is to get that time.

One additional note - I followed up Saturday's 20-miler with a 5-K race on Sunday. To my surprise I was able to run fairly hard. I placed 1st in my age group and what I believe was a pretty good pace. (I don't know for certain what my time was yet. The distance was long according to the race organizers - 3.3 miles rather than 3.1 and the official results have not been posted yet.) This is encouraging to be able to run fast the day after a long run. I've done three road races this summer (Park to Park 5 mile, Dog Days 5-K and the Autism 5-K this Saturday), placing 1st in my age group each time.

So, thank you Howard for challenging me to do more.

Running With Ike - Part Three

Final Results:
10 mile time - 1:40:33 (10:03 mile pace)
Age group place - 6/51
Overall place - 1470/2977

Humorous sights/noticings along the way:

• The man at the hotel who stepped outside and stuck his outreached hand out to check the rain status. Here's a clue - if it is coming down in sheets, you probably don't need to reach your hand out to check if it is raining.
• The woman who came back inside the lobby area and announced; "I just don't think this is me". (In regards to whether or not to run the race.)
• The man running with a large golf umbrella (closed) - what exactly was he planning to do with that?
• The fact that after drinking my cup of water, I politely dumped the excess on the pavement, so as not to splash anyone around me. I realized the absurdity of that after the first couple of water stations.
• Most of the mile marker signs that were blown over or blown completely away. There was really no way of determining where you were on the course.
• The volunteers offering "hurricane water", or "Sports Ike", or "rain water"
• The porta-potties that were blown over (I hope no one was inside at the time)
• The amazing number of runners heading back out on the course after crossing the finish line, determined to get some extra miles in
• The cheery spectators along the course - especially those holding up signs for their athlete, with the writing washing off the posters
• The incredible spirit of the volunteers who did not have the advantage of moving to stay warm
• The comraderie of the runners - we all had the attitude of "we're in this together"
  
  

Running With Ike - Part Two

So, we stood at the start line with the wind howling, trees bending over, signs blowing over and waited for the start. And waited. And waited. My rain jacket was no longer keeping the rain out. Rain came in through the neck area and through the vents in the sides of the jacket. I began to shiver. The shivering continued. 10 minutes went by. 15 minutes passed and still no start. People began to leave and walk to their cars in the parking lot. The rest of us stayed huddled together, shivering and noticing the conditions were deteriorating, not improving. Finally after a 25 minute delay, the race was underway! We were just glad to be moving with hopes of warming up.

It was a very difficult race. At one point I nearly blew off the race course. I blew right into a man on my left. I apologized for hitting him and he grabbed my shirt, saying; "I was afraid you were going to blow away". Running over the suspension bridge over the Mississippi River was a tad scary. It was quite windy on the top of the bridge.

By mile 7 or 8, conditions had actually improved a bit. The rain had let up, it was still very windy, but at least it was better than the first hour of running. I decided I could complete the full marathon. So, I maintained a comfortable pace (not that any of this race was comfortable), that I felt I could keep for all 26.2 miles. Pushing into the wind had taken its toll already.

At mile 9, we began to see runners coming from the opposite direction saying the race had been called for everyone. Everyone would finish at mile 10. Really? Now, I wished I had known that, because I would have run faster. I ran hard that last mile. Once at the finish line, I looked around for friends or family. I couldn't find anyone, so I decided to go back out on the race course looking for Carolyn and Danny. I ran the opposite direction for 3 miles. Along the way, I told volunteers at the water stops (who did not know the race had been called) to please let runners know about the official call of the race.

I ran back to the suspension bridge (up to the center of it for a better look for my friends), and then turned around and ran back to the finish. So, I managed to get a 16 mile run out of the day. It's probably the most difficult 16 miles I have ever run.

Once through the finish area again (still not able to locate anyone), I made my way to the food tables and the gear check. The entire area was flooded. The ground was covered with water and/or mud. Most people were slogging through with their shoes on. I decided to wade through the mud and water barefoot. After all, my feet were already cold and wet. At least I wouldn't add mud to my shoes.

I found my way to the shuttle bus and hopped on board with all the other muddy, cold and wet runners. The shuttle buses took us back to the start area parking lot. As the bus began driving, it passed by 3 runners. The bus driver opened the door and asked if they needed a ride. They replied; "No, our car is down there". Down where? We all peered out the bus windows. All we saw was a very large tree which had fallen. Oh! And a very smashed car underneath. Now that's a bad day.

Once back at the start area, I wasn't sure where to pick up the hotel shuttle bus from there. The parking lot was flooded in many parts. Many of the racers appeared to be disoriented, looking for their bearings. I was doing the same, when much to my delight, Howard and Shelley pulled up in the car. I was never so happy to be in the safety of a warm car!

As we left the parking lot, they pointed out the cars with water up past the wheel base, and the one car submerged in water up to the windows. Apparently, the car was unable to distinquish pavement from a grassy area because of the rain. Once off the solid pavement, the car quickly sank into the rising water. The driver appeared to have escaped through the driver's side window.

Here is what the race directors put on the official website this morning (Monday, day after the race):

"When the event started, we had every intention of allowing everyone to complete the entire distance. Both courses were runnable and we believed given the latest weather reports that they would continue to be so. Unfortunately, the combination of (1) the storm dropping over 5" of rain (as compared to the 3" that had been expected) and (2) much of that rain falling immediately before the start of the race (in part due to the delay that resulted because the police were understandably late getting to their positions because they were busy working a multitude of traffic accidents) caused a flash flood that swamped a long stretch of the north section of our course just minutes before the first runners were to arrive.

When we received the reports of the flash flooding approximately 30 minutes into the race, we immediately responded by safely altering the course to avoid the flooded area. We wish we could have re-routed to another 13.1 mile course, but for many reasons that was not a viable option. We apologize for not effectively communicating the mid-race course change to you via our aid station volunteers, but the storm knocked out our radio communications, leaving many of them ill-informed, as well. To make matters worse, our finish line sound system was also put out of commission by the storm, so information could not be effectively delivered post-race, either.

As for the marathon course, we received word soon after the flooding report that the wind and rain had caused two large branches to fall onto and across our course - obviously a dangerous situation. In addition, the medical station on the south end of the marathon course could not operate effectively in the dangerous conditions. As a result, we felt we had to stop all of our competitors at 10 miles."

Running With Ike - Part One

I was awakened about 3:50 AM on Sunday morning to the sound of heavy rain. Very heavy rain. Torrential rain. It was hard to ignore the sound of the rain and wind and simply go back to sleep, even though my alarm was not set to go off until 5:15. Eventually at 4:45 AM my sister Shelley and I got up. We threw on some clothes and went down to the breakfast area at our hotel. (The hotel was very accommodating and started breakfast @ 4:00 AM for the runners.) There were a few other runners drinking coffee and eating a light breakfast while looking out at the tropical storm going on outside.

We went back upstairs and checked the Weather Channel. Hmmm.... The radar showed a beautiful depiction of the eye of Hurricane Ike (now considered a tropical storm) wrapping around the St. Charles/St. Louis area. We were actually in the eye of the storm as it moved up and across from Texas. Foreboding to say the least.

By 6:15 AM, Howard, Shelley and I were in the lobby looking outside at the continuing storm. Fortunately there was no thunder or lightning. We stepped outside to evaluate the conditions. It was surprisingly cool - the temps had dropped from 74 degrees to around 64 degrees. With the heavy rain and strong winds it felt very cold!

I made a quick trip back to the room to get a cycling rain jacket. When I came back to the lobby, people started to straggle back into the lobby. Some had ventured out intending to run to the start (less than 1/2 mile away), some had already gone to the start on the shuttle bus and decided to return and some had just stepped outside briefly. Many were deciding not to run. Some of the runners who had actually gone to the start area, came back with reports of ankle deep water. I stepped outside again and decided I would at least head to the start.

I did another quick check of my clothing options. If I actually had to run in my plastic rain jacket, I knew it would chafe my bare arms terribly. So, I went back up to the room for a second time to get a long sleeve technical running shirt. Now I was ready. Was I ready to run in a tropical storm? I was about to find out.

Shelley and Howard decided not to run. So, with a quick goodbye, I boarded the shuttle bus. Once on the shuttle bus, it became apparent that we were in the middle of a tropical storm. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. I waded through the ankle deep water to deposit my gear check bag (containing dry clothes for after the race) and joined some friends in the start area.

Because the visibility was so poor, it was difficult to judge how many people were lined up. It was far less than the 5,000 originally signed up for the 1/2 marathon and full marathon. For the most part the group seemed to consist of die-hard runners, experienced runners, with a sprinkling of some first-timers.

After singing of the National Anthem, we prepared to start our adventure.

Lessons From a Turtle

Sunday is the Lewis & Clark Marathon in St. Charles, MO. The weather forecast calls for heavy rain - the remenants of hurricane Ike. Running a marathon in a heavy downpour is not the most enjoyable thing, Shoes and socks become saturated with water, blisters tend to form, and the finish line can seem even further away than usual.

I'm still planning on running the marathon even if the weather is as bad as forecasted. The weather may change my goals a bit, but I still plan on running.

Today was an interesting day to stumble across an article written by a runner heading out the door for a run in rather miserable rainy weather. She contemplated turning around and returning home when the rain picked up almost as soon as she started running. However, a slow-moving turtle managed to convince her of the importance of continuing the journey. She first encountered him trying to cross from one side of the road to the other on her trip out. When she returned back along the path on the trip home, she was surprised to see him just about to complete his daunting journey from one side of the road to the other. Below is the story of "Pete" (the name bestowed on this snapping turtle by the runner):

"Even though for my turtle the unknown was not the sea, but a lake, his destination was unknown just the same. Suddenly, instead of seeing his crossing of the road as a mundane task, I recognized it for what it was: a small adventure within a larger one. I realized that every moment, every day, is a journey within a journey within a journey. No challenge is so insignificant that it adds not to the grand masterpiece of our lives. Embracing the adventure of each road we must cross, we keep our eyes focused on that wonderful, mysterious beyond.

That afternoon, I realized that in my silly petulance, I had flippantly tossed aside the adventure of my run and missed the beauty of simply crossing the road. As I left Pete the Turtle to continue his journey across the miles, I pushed a strand of wet hair from my face and headed back home."

30 Days

This morning I saw a news story about a young woman who had a benign tumor pressing against her brain stem. The surgery required to save her life, would mean total loss of hearing. So, she spent 30 days creating vivid memories of the most special sounds around her. She recorded video of herself enjoying the sound of the ocean waves, listening to her favorite song on her Ipod, playing with her dog, conversations with her family, etc.

There are so many beautiful sounds that we take for granted as we hear them throughout our day - the sound of children laughing, birds chirping, leaves rustling in the wind, music and the voices of the people we love.

This particular story was especially timely given a medical scare that my twin sister had over the weekend. She went to her regular eye exam on Saturday. The ophthalmologist noticed three small holes in her retina (of her good eye) and referred her to a retinal specialist. This was even more worrisome since the problem was in her good eye. Her vision is quite poor in the other eye already. Retinal holes or tears increase the risk of a retinal detachment. That can lead to total vision loss if medical treatment isn't obtained quickly.

The next couple of days were very stressful. The news is good. The retinal specialist did not see any need for treatment (such as surgery to prevent retinal detachment). On Saturday morning she merely had a routine eye exam on her daily schedule. From that moment on, until her eye exam with the retinal specialist was completed Tuesday afternoon, the gift of vision and what it might be like to lose it was on all of our minds.

What sounds would you most want to hear if you only had 30 days left to hear them?
What sights would you most want to see if you only had 30 days left to see them?
What favorite foods would you most want to taste if you only had 30 days left to see them?
Who are the people you would most like to have one last meaningful conversation with if you only had 30 days to do so?

Race Report - Tale of Two Perspectives

Saturday was the Railsplitter Triathlon in Petersburg. The short version is that I decided to call it a day after the swim due to back pain. I've been battling an SI joint injury for the last month. Going into the race I was hopeful that I had recovered significantly to complete this tri. I based this on a 17-mile run the previous Saturday (at a good pace), followed by just short of a 40-mile ride the next day (on Sunday) and an 1800 open water swim on Wednesday evening. I also tossed in a 3/4 mile recovery swim, a 5 mile run, a 4 mile run and a 6.5 mile run during the week. Perhaps that was too much to throw into the pre-race week?

I have two versions of my sad tale.

• Is the sun coming up or is the sun going down?
• "Pity party", table for one

Version one comes from a wonderful competitor by the name of Lou. After my decision to drop out of the race, we stood on the corner near the transition area. This gave us a nice view of the bikes coming into transition and the runners heading out on the run course. The runners would also pass by this same corner again as they made a turn taking them the remaining couple of miles to the finish.

Lou is a 77-year young triathlete who competes at local triathlons. On this day he was racing the sprint distance. As he approached the water stop at the corner, he had a smile on his face and cheerfully asked the volunteers; "Is the sun coming up or going down?". They replied that the sun was indeed still going up, to which he replied; "Oh good, I wasn't sure!".

What a great attitude! Lou isn't fast any more, but he has the respect of all who watch him race. Often he is last, but not always. (Today he was not the last one to finish the sprint distance. Lou is probably 45-50 years older than the two athletes who did finish last in the sprint.) It's easy to see that Lou isn't focusing on what once was, he instead is clearly focusing on what is. He is out there racing, competing, and enjoying the day - whatever the day happens to bring.

Now that I've written about Lou's attitude, I am somewhat reticent to share version two.

Version two - "Pity Party", table for one

Immediately after I dropped out of the race, I naturally was disappointed. However, I pushed that disappointment aside and was determined to cheer for my friends who were racing. AJ came into transition after the bike portion looking strong and happy. Erin and Melissa followed behind her by perhaps about 7-10 minutes. (Results are not posted on-line yet, so I don't know the exact times.) Erin and Melissa were riding together and both managed a smile along with a "Boy, was that bike course hilly!". Once all three of them were out on the run, Howard and I headed to what we thought was about Mile 6 of the 7 mile run course (for the long tri course). Erin came running by first, looking very strong, followed by AJ and then Melissa. After all 3 had passed, we moved to the final corner heading into the finish line. Erin finished looking just as strong on the run at the end as she had at the beginning. AJ and Melissa were now running together - which was nice to see that they had paired up to help each other. The run course turned out to be .8 longer than it was supposed to be. That had to be more than a little challenging to the athletes on such a hot and humid day.

All three won awards in their age groups. I was genuinely pleased for all of them. I was also aware of what a difficult race this was. Both the bike and run courses were hilly. The weather was fairly typical for late August - hot and humid.

So, when did I ask for the "Pity Party" - table for one? It didn't really hit me until Sunday morning. 2007 has not been a good triathlon season for me. The reality that this was my last triathlon (with a DNF) for the season, hit me very hard on Sunday morning.

I had just finished a 10-mile run at approx. 8.5 minute mile pace. Even though it was a good run, my tight back served as a constant reminder of the DNF the day before. I tried to make sense of it all. I have trained hard all summer, completing 105 workouts (34 swim workouts or approx. 40 miles, 26 bike workouts or approx. 600 miles, and 45 run workouts or approx. 263 miles) since June 1st. It's very hard to accept the fact that after all that training, I have not seen any favorable results in the form of triathlon finish times this season.

What would Lou have to say about all of this? He would probably say leave what happened in this summer's triathlon races in the past, let the sun go down on the stinging disappointment and trust that the sun is still coming up today. Next season might just be the sunniest season of them all.

P.S. The interesting thing about hosting a pity party, is that you really do only need a table for one. Generally people aren't too interested in the feeling sorry for yourself party. Once again I'm reminded of my good friend Andy who has two favorite sayings:

"Get out of the bitter barn and play in the hay." "Get off your huffy bike and turn that smile upside down."

Lessons From the Olympics

I haven't written anything for my blog for quite some time now. The reason? I've been watching the Olympics. Beginning with the Opening Ceremonies, I realized there would be valuable lessons to be found. I told myself to make mental notes of what I learned as the Olympic events began.

One of the things that was discussed during the opening ceremonies was the significance of water in the Chinese culture. The Chinese consider that a life well-lived has the elements of water - flow, calm, ease and taking the path of least resistance. I can't help but notice how many times our lives do not resemble water. That might give a new meaning to importance of staying hydrated.

During one of the spectacular parts of the ceremony, precise circles were formed without any markings on the floor to guide the performers. This was accomplished because each performer had a keen awareness of exactly where they were and where their neighbor was on the floor. I believe we could all benefit by increasing our awareness of where we are in this moment of our life and where our neighbor is in relationship to us.

Deena Kastor (US women's marathoner) was asked about the sacrifices she has made over the years preparing and training for the Olympics. She calmly replied back that she preferred to think of it as choices she has made rather than sacrifices. Often I think we get caught up in thinking of our training in a negative way - "I have to run this morning", rather than "I get to run this morning". We actually always have a choice. We also have a choice in how we view the things ahead of us. We can view them as tasks, chores, more to-do lists, or we can view them as opportunities and choices.

Dara Torres (US 41-year old swimmer) showed incredible sportsmanship when she stopped her own mental preparation immediately before one of her events, to instead go over and inform an official that another competitor had a problem with her suit and needed extra time to come on the pool deck. Dara could have been focused entirely on her own race. Instead, she wanted to race to be started with fairness to all competitors, allowing the other swimmer to compete. She showed incredible grace in the bright smile she had at the end of her races regardless of how she placed. She also was quick to offer a heart-felt congratulations and "Good job" to her fellow competitors. You could tell she was genuinely happy for the other athletes.

I was also struck by Michael Phelps struggle with ADHD as a child. He had difficulty in the classroom and was bullied by other children. Children with ADD or ADHD are easily distracted by the things in their environment. Michael's mom described how the pool lane provided a calming environment. It was free from distractions. It consisted of the black line at the bottom of the pool and the wall at each end. This clean environment provided a place where Michael could focus, be calm and tap into his talent. All of us could probably benefit from finding our own version of a clean environment on a regular basis.

There have been so many inspirational stories and athletic performances during this Olympics. I thought I would have a long list of mini lessons from watching. Now I find it is hard to separate them out from such an amazing series of athletic performances.

I have been reminded of the importance of "heart". Many times the Gold Medal winner has not been the favorite, but instead the athlete with the most heart, the athlete who wanted redemption from a previous Olympic experience that did not go as they had hoped.

Steelhead 1/2 Ironman Decision

The photo above is of Lake Michigan on race morning. Notice the waves!

I have to admit that I was still questioning my decision not to race the Steelhead 1/2 Ironman on Saturday morning. I looked at my watch often throughout the morning and afternoon, estimating where I would be on the race course. I thought about the friends I have who were in Benton Harbor for the race.

As far as I could tell the weather forecast from earlier in the week, calling for temps in the mid 90's with high humidity, had modified. It appeared to be an almost perfect weather day - with temps in the low 80's. The water temperature had gradually risen over the past 10 days from a low of 51 degrees to about 74 degrees. The lake conditions on Friday evening were good, with calm water and waves of 0-1 ft. Lake Michigan doesn't get much better than that.

So, as we headed to my sister's house in Elk Grove Village for the weekend, my head was still wistfully thinking about the race. My back still hurts - I haven't been on the bike in a week, the couple of swims that I have done have been very short (1/2 mile or less) and bothered my back. Sitting hurts. I have to watch how I move in order to protect my back.

I did still get some cycling experience over the weekend. It came in the form of spectating, however, not competing. The "Tour de Elk Grove" took place Friday-Sunday. We watched the pro cyclist road race (150-k) Saturday afternoon, which consisted of ten loops in Schaumburg and then the ride to the finish from Schaumburg to Elk Grove Village. Tyler Hamilton (former teammate of Lance Armstrong) was among the riders. On Sunday, we watch the Cat 1/2 criterium race.

Once back home, we had an opportunity to check the results of the Steelhead 1/2 Ironman. The swim portion of the race was cancelled due to 4-6 ft waves, swells and especially due to the very strong undertow. Apparently even the kayaaks were having difficulty getting out into the water without being pulled under.

So, the race became a duathlon, with a 2-mile run, a 56-mile bike and the 13.1 mile run. This would not have given me the practice I wanted with the 3 elements of triathlon and the corresponding transitions. It would not have allowed me to improve on my 1/2 Ironman time since it was not officially a true 1/2 Ironman.

I'm still hoping to be able to race the triathlon on Aug. 23rd and staying open to the possibility of a 1/2 Ironman yet this fall. I'll keep you posted.

No Finish Line This Time

I've made my final decision about the Steelhead 1/2 Ironman race - I won't be racing. I was hopeful that my back injury was resolving after a massage on Tuesday afternoon. The massage therapist was very good and seemed to be quite familiar with SI joint injuries. The relief, however, was short lived. My back tightened up again by later that evening and was really flared up by Wednesday evening.

I know I could complete each of the three events individually. I also know that stringing the 1.2 mile swim, the 56 mile bike and the 13.1 mile run together, one after the other, would not be possible with my current injury.

I've talked with my coach and he agrees that rest is most important to allow the injury to settle down. I'm hoping to be able to do the "Railsplitter Triathlon" on Aug. 23rd. The distance is a bit longer than the traditional Olympic Distance Tri, with a 1 mile swim, a 36 mile bike and a 7 mile run. I can still register for that race up until Aug. 21st, which allows me time to evaluate my recovery progress.

Even though it is very frustrating to be hurt after training so diligently all summer, it does give me a renewed appreciation for being able to participate in athletics. I don't regret the time and effort I put into following my training schedule, even though I didn't make it to the start line of the Steelhead 1/2 Ironman. I know it is not wasted time. It has helped to give me additional experience and strength for future races.

I already have a motivation for my next race - I watched the ABC television special on celebrating the life of Randy Pausch. He talks about the final score sometimes turning out differently than you had hoped or expected.... and he says that is ok when you know you left everything you had on the field.

I plan to do my next race in memory of Randy Pausch. Along the way, I plan to incorporate some of the lessons he shared in his Last Lecture series... paying attention to whether I'm racing as an "Eeyore or a Tigger", what I do about the "brick walls" I encounter along the race course and looking for the "next best part of the day" that might still show up between the start and the finish.

On the Fence

The Steelhead 1/2 Ironman in Benton Harbor, Michigan is this Saturday. This is supposed to be my "A" race, along with the St. George, Utah Marathon in October.

My low back has been tight for a couple of weeks now. Nothing too serious, just something I've been aware of especially while swimming or cycling. About two weeks ago during an open water swim, it began to hurt much worse almost immediately as I started swimming. I had planned to swim 3 loops of the 600 yd. course @ the Miller Park lake. That was quickly changed to 1 loop, and even that was challenging. I found myself trying to compensate for the pain while I was swimming. I kept trying to find a comfortable position while swimming. This was changing my swim stroke pretty dramatically and I'm sure it didn't look pretty.

I tried another open water swim on Friday morning, hoping that I could add on a little distance. It did feel better initially, but quickly tightened up as I reached about 1/4 mile. This time I was able to go about 800 yds rather than the 600 yds I swam on Wednesday evening. Still not close to 1/2 Ironman distance of 1.2 miles, however.

Saturday morning I did get in a pretty decent 13 mile run at a fairly good pace. My back felt ok while I was running - tight, but not really an issue while running. Later in the evening it began to feel worse, however.

My two resident (visiting for the weekend) physical therapists, our daughter Lisa & her husband Gary, both diagnosed the problem as "SI joint". Gary did a PT treatment on my back and it did feel better afterwards.

Sunday I hoped to get in a 3 hour ride or approx. 45-50 miles. It started out ok, but after about 1.5 hours on the bike, the pedal stroke especially when recruiting my hamstrings and glutes pulled on my sore back more and more. I cut the ride short to around 40 miles. Could I ride another 16 miles? Yes. Can I ride another 16 miles after a 1.2 mile swim, and then follow it up with a 13.1 mile run? I don't know.

So, I'm sitting on the fence trying to decide. I just returned from a massage and that seems to have provided some relief. I've been icing and taking Motrin. I plan to do a swim @ Miller Park tomorrow evening and see how that goes. I'll make a decision by Thursday evening, obviously since we are scheduled to leave for Michigan on Friday.

In the meantime, I'll be weighing the pros and cons.

What Question Would Randy Pausch Have For You?

This morning as I checked my e-mail, I tried to access the homepage of Randy Pausch, the Carnegie Mellon University professor dying of pancreatic cancer. Professor Pausch, who had delivered "The Last Lecture" at Carnegie Mellon University, and later turned that lecture into a book with the same title, had not posted an update on his website since June 26th. This morning when I checked for an update on his health status I was unable to access his homepage. With a sinking feeling in my heart, I intuitively knew what this meant.

A short time ago I received an e-mail from my (former) brother-in-law, Ed saying simply; "Randy Pausch has died". I sat in stunned silence staring at my computer screen trying to process the impact of this news. Apparently Randy Pausch had died around the same time that I was attempting to check his homepage.

While I obviously did not know Randy Pausch personally, I feel blessed to have been given the opportunity to know him through his lectures, his website, the TV specials about his life and most importantly his writing. The impact and legacy which he left the world is profound.

The following excerpt is taken from a May 3rd Wall Street Journal article written by Jeffrey Zaslow about Randy Pausch and his final farewell:

"Randy is thrilled that so many people are finding his lecture beneficial, and he hopes the book also will be a meaningful legacy for him. Still, all along, he kept reminding me that he was reaching into his heart, offering his life lessons, mostly to address an audience of three. "I'm attempting to put myself in a bottle that will one day wash up on the beach for my children," he said."

We all have the opportunity to put our legacy in a bottle that will wash up on the shores of the lives of those around us (our family, friends and even those who don't know us personally). What will you put in your bottle? Who is your audience?

What question would Randy Pausch have for you right now, in this moment, today?

If you would like to read more about Randy Pausch, you may find the following articles of interest:
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB120951287174854465.html?mod=ITPWSJ_20
http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Story?id=4614281

I also encourage you to take the time to watch his "Last Lecture" if you haven't seen it yet.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ji5_MqicxSo

Cleaning the "Gunk" Off

Monday afternoon I was scheduled to do an easy recovery ride. Although it was very hot (around 91) in the mid-afternoon, it seemed like a nice day to ride. I have a route (headed east out of town into the country - site of the previously mentioned Mama bird attack) that I use for shorter rides. The distance varies between 15 and 20 miles, depending on where I turn around.

As I started riding, I noticed how much tar and oil was on the surface of the road. The glistening black tar was enjoying the bright sunshine and warm temperatures. My tires quickly became coated with the tar and oil. My speed which had started out at about 18 mph, dropped to around 15 mph, which I thought might be due to wind or fatigue from Saturday's race. So, I continued to ride to my turn around point at about 8 miles east of town.

I turned around (now into a headwind) and noticed my speed was continuing to drop. About 3 miles from my destination, I discovered new chip rock laid down on the sticky, tar-slickened road. Those little rocks stuck to my tires like nuts to an ice cream cone. My skinny little road bike tires soon resembled mountain bike tires because they had so much tar and rocks stuck to them.

This presented more than a minor problem. It was almost impossible to ride faster than 8 mph. I did not want to shift to another gear out of fear that one of the many rocks flying around would happen to land in my chain. I considered calling home for a ride, but that would only mean one of our cars would have to encounter the same tar and rocks. I considered taking an alternate route, but the traffic was beginning to pick up with the end of the work day. Cutting over to a different road would take me on more heavily traveled roads. I was also concerned about the status of my bike - a flat or other mechanical problem wouldn't be unlikely.

Eventually I made it back. It was one of the most frustrating, tiring rides I have ever done. The clean up of my bike took about an hour once I was back home. My husband helped with the clean-up - amazed at what a mess I had created. First he used a plastic ruler to scrape some of the tar off the tires. Next we used wd-40 and some scrubbing with a rag to clean more of the tar off. Finally the entire bike had a nice wash.

I've considered the take-away from this experience. I remember reading in one of my coaching books (Even Eagles Need a Push by David McNally) about the process of "dry docking" a boat and similarly "dry docking" ourselves. Boats are taken out of the water periodically in order for the hull to be cleaned. Over time, various forms of debris accumulate on the hull, slowing the boat down because of the increased resistance in the water.

Each of us has debris which accumulates layer upon layer over the true essence of who we are. The debris comes in the form of our past experiences, self-limiting beliefs, negative self talk, assumptions and opinions of other people, set backs, and a host of emotions.

Emotions such as anger, resentment, a sense of entitlement, jealousy, frustration create a sticky surface on our frame. As we travel down the road of life and encounter rocks (obstacles in our path), they stick to us rather than falling off. The resistance is increased and we find ourselves slowing down even more. It can become almost impossible to keep moving forward along the road.

What is the solution? Certainly it would be wonderful if we never encountered any sticky tar in the road. The truth is that we all encounter it and wind up with tar on our tires. Until the repair and cleaning work is done, unnecessary resistance holds us back from using our full potential. We all need to spend some time in "dry dock" periodically. It's useful to scrape off the gunk that doesn't serve us.

Also on the topic of oil, I found this other excerpt from Even Eagles Need a Push:

"A positive attitude is like the oil in an engine. It is the lubricant that enables the mind's creative, solution-oriented power to respond to your command. A negative attitude drains the mind of this essential lubricant, freezing and shutting it down. A positive attitude sees a problem as an opportunity, a difficulty as a challenge. A negative attitude does the opposite and is the prescription for defeat."

I guess the oil and tar had a lot to teach me during Monday's ride. Now if I can just remember the lesson when the going gets tough.

Evergreen Tri Race Report - Facing Your Fears

I have two main concerns going into a triathlon:

• Breathing difficulty (asthma) during the swim especially - hot, humid conditions create problems for me
• Rain-slickened roads (especially after witnessing the horrific crash at Naperville)

Here's a portion of the Pantagraph article printed on Sunday following the race:

Rhodes led from wire to wire, winning the International distance division in 1 hour, 55.4 minutes and 40 seconds. The weather posed some additional challenges to Rhodes and the other athletes throughout the muddy, soggy race.

The effects of the weather were visible during the bike portion.“I was pretty cautious coming into the turns,” Rhodes said. “Everyone had to take it a little careful in the corners. It’s better to lose 10 seconds than sliding out and losing a minute or more.”

For others, the weather-related issues were present from start to finish.“It’s a really tough day,” said Elizabeth Ott, 30, of Naperville. “It was really hard just with the weather. Honestly, I want to say it made it one of the hardest triathlons I’ve ever done.“

I was talking with some of the other top girls, and we all said that we noticed we had a hard time breathing today. The air was really heavy. It made it a hard time to catch your breath.”

As we headed out to Lake Evergreen at 5:30 AM, it was pretty evident that bad weather was on the way. My husband scanned the horizon and optimistically suggested it was looking better as we got closer. I did manage to get my transition area set up and make a bathroom trip before the downpour began. I eventually sat in the car with my wetsuit 1/2 on, contemplating what the day would bring.

The swim started on time because thankfully there was no lightning. My breathing, however, did not start on time. Even though I used my inhaler just before getting out of the car and heading to the beach area, it took about 10-15 minutes before I could breathe well enough to get into a proper swim stroke.

Bike? What bike? Where is it? Yup, I ran past my bike. The landmark I had selected to cue me as to where my bike was (2 rows past the "Bike Out" writing on the pavement) would have worked well if there had only been one of those writings. I lost at least 2 minutes trying to figure out where my bike was located. True, it shouldn't have been that hard because there weren't all that many bikes remaining in the transition area.

I clipped in easily and without incident - always nice on slick pavement, and headed out on the bike course. About 5 miles into the 25 mile ride, the storm hit. I, of course, was headed into the storm and the accompanying wind. There was some discussion as to whether we actually had hail or just very hard-hitting rain pelting us. I thought it was hail. It felt like hail. It was raining so hard it was difficult to see the road. My sunglasses were filled with water. My shoes were filled with water.

About 7-8 miles into the ride, I was headed up a slight incline just before a left-hand turn. )Since this was an out and back course, I had already been seeing the front riders on their way back in to the bike finish.) I saw him (one of the faster riders) preparing to take the right turn. He was going so fast that I told myself; "He'll never make that corner". And he didn't. His rear tire slid out from under him and he slid across the pavement.

Luckily the two riders behind him managed to avoid him. I unclipped quickly as it was happening, unsure how close to me he might slide. Once I was safely past the accident, one of the course workers asked if I was ok. I replied; "yes". The answer was really "no".

I rode for a bit longer until I was out of the view of the course volunteers and then I stopped alongside the road. The image of the Naperville crash came rushing back. I questioned what I was doing. Why was I out here in this storm, riding a road bike on thin little tires on slick roads? Two triathlons and witnessing two crashes firsthand.... is there a message in this?

I considered my options. Stop and then what? Wait here in the storm until someone comes along? Walk my bike back to the corner with the volunteers and tell them I'm done? So, I did what I had to do. Finally after about 5 minutes, I got back on my bike and started riding. I took it easy on the corners and the sections of road with a lot of standing water.

Once I reached the bike turn around, I had the wind at my back. The rain continued to come down hard, but at least I was headed back. I managed to ride between 18-22 mph in some sections on the way back (compared to my 11-14 mph on the way out). I even started to feel more confident riding of the extremely slick road.

T2 went better than my first transition. Of course, everything was soaked, so it was still slow, but I started out on the run fairly quickly. As I headed out, I went by my family... Madison (age 3) and Ella (age 2) were gleefully standing underneath their parent's umbrellas cheering me on. They were not phased by the weather at all. (Their parents, Lauren & Kirk, Lisa & Gary, on the other hand looked quite wet and miserable.) Uplifted by the the sounds of "Go Grandma, Go!", I began the run.

I told myself as I began running that part of the triathlon is my sport of choice. I can run. I love to run. And so I did. I even had fun during the run. My husband and the Team in Training group were volunteering at the Mile 1 (and Mile 5) water stop, so it was nice to have my own personal fan club as I went by both times.

As I ran into the finish area, I was greeted by the cheers of my family and also quite a few friends. It felt so good to have overcome (or at least managed) my fears and complete this triathlon. Today I was a "completer" and not a "competitor" and that was good enough.

3 triathlons this season. All 3 with bad weather. Steelhead 1/2 Ironman is in 2 weeks. Any bets on the weather?

Evergreen Olympic Tri Results:

Swim (.93 mile): 44:04

T1 (Saturday as my husband later said): 4:56

Bike (24.8 miles): 1:41

T2: 2:09

Run (6.2 miles): 59:44

Total: 3:32 (2007 time was 3:17)

The Power of Language

Last Saturday evening was a local 5-K run called Dog Days. As usual it was very hot and humid, so the name was fitting. A group of us decided to run this race at more or less the last minute, not deciding until about 4:30 to run the 6:00 PM race.

During the drive to the race I was telling myself two things:
1) I'm not a good heat and humidity runner.
2) I'm not an evening runner (I much prefer the early morning hours for running).

I did manage to place 1st in my age group with an 8:25 mile pace over the rolling hills of the 5-K course. I knew it wasn't my best run, but I was ok with the results.

Were either of the two statements I had been telling myself useful in any way? It's interesting how the mind believes what we tell it - in fact, I would suggest that when we really believe our own perspective or version of a given situation, our brains can't tell the difference from reality.

A better way of stating those two perspectives might have been:
1) I prefer to run in cool temperatures and with conditioning I'm becoming a better heat & humidity runner all the time.
2) I prefer to run in the early morning hours, and my evening running pace is still strong enough to keep up with many runners.

We can get ourselves in even more trouble with absolute words such as "never", "always", or
even dramatic wording such as "I'm starving", "This hot weather is killing me", or "I'm dying to get out of here". Even self-deprecating phrases such as "I'm an idiot" are harmful to our psyche.

We may not have control over events in our life, situations we face, or challenges (whether they are ones we seek out such as athletics, or ones that show up on the doorstep of our lives unexpectedly). We do have control over the language we choose to use. It's wise to be mindful of the language we choose to use because our brain just may believe it as if it is real.

Listen to the language you are using - both your "outside voice" (spoken to the rest of the world) and your "inside voice" (spoken inside of your own head). It's your story to tell. Are you telling the version you want to be real?

Deleted Chapters of Your Life

Today I was trying to add a photo to my blog posting on the Naperville Women's Triathlon. Inadvertently while trying to change the layout of the photo, I deleted the entire post. This really bothered me.Then I tried to determine exactly why it bothered me so much.

After all, I had in many ways been trying to delete the Naperville Tri from my memory ever since the race. I wanted to erase the image of the young woman crashing on her bike. I wanted to erase the the unanswered questions that continue to nag at me as to whether she recovered from her injuries. I wanted to erase the wondering about her family - if they were there, or if she had young children.

Now almost a full month after that triathlon, my original impressions and thoughts are gone. That may be fitting since I have my next triathlon this weekend. It is an Olympic distance tri - a .93 mile swim, 40k (24.8 miles) bike, and a 10k (6.2 mile) run. I'd like to improve on my time from last year, even though I am not as well trained. I'm hoping improvements in the swim and cycling technique will make that possible.

It is supposed to be very hot (90 degrees) and I would guess - windy. My second goal, besides improving on my last year's time of 3:17:23, is to finish feeling strong. I actually felt like I finished each discipline of the Naperville Tri feeling fairly good. I've included the photos (hopefully without deleting this post) for you to judge for yourself.

It's Useful to Sight Every Once in Awhile

This morning I had the opportunity to do an hour-long open water swim. It was a beautiful morning, already about 76 degrees with a breeze. My friend Diana graciously offered to kayak alongside for me, even though she has a very hectic schedule. I've only done one other open water swim at Lake Bloomington this season.

Today's goal was to swim 30 minutes out (some chop to the water) and 30 minutes back. I was actually surprised how quickly I swam on the way out given my limited open water swimming this summer. I went fairly straight on the way out, picking my head up to sight on a regular basis.

On the way back I started to get tired. I wanted to be done. So, I just put my head down and kept swimming. Good plan, except for one thing.... Was I headed in the right direction? No. If you haven't done any open water swimming, I can tell you that the best approach is to swim straight - the shortest distance between two points is straight. Fortunately I did not go off course very far before I remembered to pick my head up and sight.

What I took away from that moment of learning, was the importance of sighting especially when we get tired. Putting our head down and going for it may not be the most effective way to reach the intended outcome. It is useful to pick our heads up and make sure we are still on course. Has anything shifted or changed?

I finished the return trip in just a little over 30 minutes - not bad considering I had a little stop for a leaking goggle issue. I hope to get another couple of hour-long open water swims before the Steelhead 1/2 Ironman on August 3rd. Today's swim helped me feel more confident and prepared for the 1.2 mile swim in Lake Michigan.

It's been a long training "week", with my last complete rest day July 3rd. Since then I've done one 5 mile race (with a return 5 mile run back to the start), one 7-mile run, 2 pool swims, 3 rides (one 2-hour trainer ride, and two 22-mile shorter outdoor rides), one track workout, and 2 easy 4-mile runs and today's open water swim.

Tomorrow is the Pedaling for Kicks Ride. It's supposed to be quite warm and breezy. Breezy around here can often mean windy. I'm planning to do the 50-mile ride, which should put me about at the 3-hour ride on my training schedule. I hope to start riding by 6:00 AM, so that I will be finished before it gets too hot.

Sunday calls for a 2-hour long run, and a swim (which I plan to do at Lake Bloomington again). I believe Monday would be a perfect rest day!