Sunday, December 6, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Friday Night Fun Run
Friday rolled around and I had no plans. For a gal that had been working 16-hour days for the last 17 days, and who will be devoting nearly all of her free time to training in the coming months, one would think that she would make plans with her friends. I suppose, I would have made plans with friends had any of them been available.
Borko and I had made tentative plans to run after work Friday afternoon, but he too made last minute travel plans. My running buddy having bailed on me for Bethlehem, I found myself texting anyone who may still be in New York hoping that someone was free for a beer, giving me freedom to skip the hill repeat workout I was to do that day.
My would be brother (would be if we came from the same parents, but otherwise look and act a lot alike) Scotty came to my rescue and met me on Park Avenue for a walk until we found a suitable place for drinks. While I had a $3 beer in mind, he was thinking of $13 martinis and we found ourselves at Park Avenue Autumn. I said something to Scotty that made him feel fat. He did not finish his martini as he had a sudden interest in the gym. I finished his martini and mine and then we left.
Home alone at 7:30 on a Friday night, I was feeling like a stir crazy loser, and the guilt of skipping my workout was haunting me. Tipsy, I pulled on my running tights, braided my golden locks and strapped on my sneakers and ran out of my apartment.
As I raced up Cat Hill over and over again in the dark, accompanied by my good friends Jay-Z and Alicia Keys all I kept thinking was, "I wonder if anyone has ever put a martini shaker in her Special Needs bag." I had the best run, the fastest run I have had in a long time on Friday night. I am thinking that a dirty martini at mile 13 of the marathon at IMS may be just what I need to power through to the finish line.
Borko and I had made tentative plans to run after work Friday afternoon, but he too made last minute travel plans. My running buddy having bailed on me for Bethlehem, I found myself texting anyone who may still be in New York hoping that someone was free for a beer, giving me freedom to skip the hill repeat workout I was to do that day.
My would be brother (would be if we came from the same parents, but otherwise look and act a lot alike) Scotty came to my rescue and met me on Park Avenue for a walk until we found a suitable place for drinks. While I had a $3 beer in mind, he was thinking of $13 martinis and we found ourselves at Park Avenue Autumn. I said something to Scotty that made him feel fat. He did not finish his martini as he had a sudden interest in the gym. I finished his martini and mine and then we left.
Home alone at 7:30 on a Friday night, I was feeling like a stir crazy loser, and the guilt of skipping my workout was haunting me. Tipsy, I pulled on my running tights, braided my golden locks and strapped on my sneakers and ran out of my apartment.
As I raced up Cat Hill over and over again in the dark, accompanied by my good friends Jay-Z and Alicia Keys all I kept thinking was, "I wonder if anyone has ever put a martini shaker in her Special Needs bag." I had the best run, the fastest run I have had in a long time on Friday night. I am thinking that a dirty martini at mile 13 of the marathon at IMS may be just what I need to power through to the finish line.
Monday, September 28, 2009
IMS Cheer Section
The uniforms for our cheer section have been selected.
Amber will be doing her best "Spartan Cheerleading" wearing this little number.
While Tom and Scotty will be handing out special needs bottles in the following attire.
Amber will be doing her best "Spartan Cheerleading" wearing this little number.
While Tom and Scotty will be handing out special needs bottles in the following attire.
Has Anyone seen my Rose Colored Glasses?
I lost them. The rose-colored shades through which I was looking at this Ironman and all of the training leading up to it have come down.
I found myself awake from 3:00-6:00am this morning. As I lie in bed, wishing I could either fall back to sleep, or muster enough energy to get up and be productive, all I could seem to count were the miles that I did NOT run over the weekend. I was supposed to do a 10 mile run on Sunday. It was the last long run before my first half marathon this coming Saturday. When I got up at 6:30am on Sunday it was raining and rather than wear a jacket and run in the rain or hit the treadmill at the gym, I sat in my pajamas on the sofa in my cozy little apartment, sipping espresso. For the 12 hours between when I got up and when friends would be arriving for Sunday Dinner, I did everything I could possibly imagine to fill the hours except to go for my run.
Last week, I was in love with training. I was happy. I was enthusiastic, and embraced the challenge brought by each workout. To anyone who told me that I was nuts for doing an Ironman, I responded with a huge smile and through a little giggle would say, "I know, I have totally lost my mind, and its going to be great."
Today, I am not feeling so great about any of this. Someone seems to have poked a hole in my little bubble of naivete and I am not floating on endorphins anymore.
Borko came to my place for Sunday Dinner last night and brought me a copy Becoming an Ironman. In an attempt to salvage my enthusiasm I am going to go home and start reading tonight. I just hope that I can find those glasses - I miss my rosey outlook on this triathlon life.
I found myself awake from 3:00-6:00am this morning. As I lie in bed, wishing I could either fall back to sleep, or muster enough energy to get up and be productive, all I could seem to count were the miles that I did NOT run over the weekend. I was supposed to do a 10 mile run on Sunday. It was the last long run before my first half marathon this coming Saturday. When I got up at 6:30am on Sunday it was raining and rather than wear a jacket and run in the rain or hit the treadmill at the gym, I sat in my pajamas on the sofa in my cozy little apartment, sipping espresso. For the 12 hours between when I got up and when friends would be arriving for Sunday Dinner, I did everything I could possibly imagine to fill the hours except to go for my run.
Last week, I was in love with training. I was happy. I was enthusiastic, and embraced the challenge brought by each workout. To anyone who told me that I was nuts for doing an Ironman, I responded with a huge smile and through a little giggle would say, "I know, I have totally lost my mind, and its going to be great."
Today, I am not feeling so great about any of this. Someone seems to have poked a hole in my little bubble of naivete and I am not floating on endorphins anymore.
Borko came to my place for Sunday Dinner last night and brought me a copy Becoming an Ironman. In an attempt to salvage my enthusiasm I am going to go home and start reading tonight. I just hope that I can find those glasses - I miss my rosey outlook on this triathlon life.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Motivated by New York
I have been a self-proclaimed masochist for several years. The type that finds pleasure in pain -humor in the emotional idiosity in which I find myself consumed all too often, and pride in some of the physical crap I endure because it all makes me stronger.
Today, I did an indoor brick at Equinox. A 45 minute spin followed by an easy 5K at race pace. After a few minutes slow, my legs were adjusted and I kicked the speed on the treadmill up to tempo. Frank Sinatra singing a live recorded version of New York, New York came onto the iPod.
I love that song.
Not once has there been a time when I have heard that song and my heart didn't gush like a high school girl crushing on the captain of the football team. With my heart rate at a blissful 85% I checked out my reflection and form in the mirror before me, sweat glistening on my color bones, arms pumping, and a steady stride, I looked strong and I thought to myself, were it not for New York, I would have no idea how awesome I am.
I would not be training for this race were it not for this city and the amazing friends I have made her to challenge me to do this.
I'm pumped!
Now, if I can keep the pace for 26 miles in less than 11 months we should be good.
Today, I did an indoor brick at Equinox. A 45 minute spin followed by an easy 5K at race pace. After a few minutes slow, my legs were adjusted and I kicked the speed on the treadmill up to tempo. Frank Sinatra singing a live recorded version of New York, New York came onto the iPod.
I love that song.
Not once has there been a time when I have heard that song and my heart didn't gush like a high school girl crushing on the captain of the football team. With my heart rate at a blissful 85% I checked out my reflection and form in the mirror before me, sweat glistening on my color bones, arms pumping, and a steady stride, I looked strong and I thought to myself, were it not for New York, I would have no idea how awesome I am.
I would not be training for this race were it not for this city and the amazing friends I have made her to challenge me to do this.
I'm pumped!
Now, if I can keep the pace for 26 miles in less than 11 months we should be good.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
I hope I haven't lost my mind
In less than 11 months, I will be embarking on a new adventure--my first and probably only ironman triathlon. The most I've ever swam is 1 mile, the most I've ever biked is 60 miles and the most I've ever run is 13 miles. I didn't do all of those things the same day. Each was its own activity for the day and pretty much wiped me out. But here I am, signed up to do the ironman in switzerland in 2010.
I'm nervous but excited. And just when I feel confident that I can do it, I try to go for a 6 mile jog and struggle through the last 5 miles and realize it's going to be a monumental task. But then I think about the reason I"m doing it and think about how lucky I am to have the opportunity to do it.
Every morning I wake up is the first day of the rest of my life and every yard I swim, every stroke I take on my bike and every step I run is something I'm fortunate enough to do. So when I start to complain that I can't run anymore or swim (and I am sure there will be plenty of those days), someone please remind me that I should be grateful to have this opportunity. And when I'm struggling to finish those last miles, I will remember why I decided to take this journey--to raise awareness and hopefully some money for a worthwhile cause.
And I'm lucky enough not to be doing this alone but to be doing with friends who will inspire and motivate me. And most importantly, friends who will make this fun. I'm talking to you Sara and Borko--please let us not turn into those people whose life is only about training for the ironman. Otherwise, you will have to deal with one unhappy camper who is going to be whining for the next 11 months.
I'm nervous but excited. And just when I feel confident that I can do it, I try to go for a 6 mile jog and struggle through the last 5 miles and realize it's going to be a monumental task. But then I think about the reason I"m doing it and think about how lucky I am to have the opportunity to do it.
Every morning I wake up is the first day of the rest of my life and every yard I swim, every stroke I take on my bike and every step I run is something I'm fortunate enough to do. So when I start to complain that I can't run anymore or swim (and I am sure there will be plenty of those days), someone please remind me that I should be grateful to have this opportunity. And when I'm struggling to finish those last miles, I will remember why I decided to take this journey--to raise awareness and hopefully some money for a worthwhile cause.
And I'm lucky enough not to be doing this alone but to be doing with friends who will inspire and motivate me. And most importantly, friends who will make this fun. I'm talking to you Sara and Borko--please let us not turn into those people whose life is only about training for the ironman. Otherwise, you will have to deal with one unhappy camper who is going to be whining for the next 11 months.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Never Say Never...
It may be cliche, but the adage proves true for this budding triathlete who swore she'd never do an Ironman. Just one month ago, I sat at dinner with Borko, munching on tacos and sipping margaritas. After he told me he signed up for IM Switzerland, he suggested that I register. I looked at him, my expression and tone indicated that I thought he was crazy, as I said, "Tell you what, if you're still talking to me in a year, I will go and be the greatest cheerleader you've ever seen, but I am never doing an Ironman."
I didn't give doing the race a second thought.... Until last week.
Chris and I had exchanged multiple emails regarding our personal futures on the tri team that we have been training with over the last year. When she emailed me and told me her story about how she would be doing an IM, I felt inspired. Her passion for life and the attitude with which she approaches training I find to be both motivational and practical. As she talked of finding purpose in supporting a charity, I felt my heart more compelled to want to train with and support my friend in her endeavor. Then, I realized that I could be less selfish in my athletic pursuits and raise money for a charity too.
The way I see it, there are two types of people in the world, those who study and make calculated decisions, reading anything that they can get their hands on and making informed decisions; then there are those who shoot from the hip, learn as they go and hope for the best. I fall into the second category. Especially when alcohol is involved. After two glasses of wine on a Monday evening, I found myself saying to Chris, "If you do it, I'll do it."
I didn't sleep that night. Every time I rolled over there was a burning excitement about what I had almost committed myself to doing. I was not totally on board with it as I had yet to register for a race. In the meantime, I emailed my Father, also known as my conscience, and asked him what he thought. His response: "I know you can do it, but I am not sure that it is the best use of your time. No one gets healthier by working out more than one hour per day." He said enough: "I know you can do it." That was all I needed to hear, if the one person who truly "gets me" knows I can do it, I'm going to do it. The latter part of his comment made me laugh - no one does an Ironman to get healthier. If anything, it proves that we are all insane.
When Chris emailed Borko and me to tell us that she signed up, a long drawn out sigh came out of my mouth in the sound of an obscenity that begins with the letter "F". I'm not only doing an Ironman now, but I am flying to another continent to do it. This is going to be time consuming and expensive, which as triathletes, we all know that those two words are true of this lifestyle we get wrapped up in, but it was about to reach a whole new level.
Friday morning, I joined Borko for a bike ride in the park. As we came up a hill at the lower loop of Central Park I told him about how I was nervous that Chris may not do the Nation's Triathlon that we are sigend up for on September 13. That's when I said, "I am going to tell her that if she'll do Nation's, I will sign up for Switzerland." Lucky for me, she sealed the deal.
I spent this last weekend celebrating a life of debauchery at the Jimmy Buffett concert in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. In the 3 days of boozing, I finished one 3.5 mile run. As I deplaned this morning feeling like a broken destoyed shell of a human being, I looked at my friend and said, "I'm signing up for an Ironman today."
When I went to register, the nervous energy swelling inside me was making my stomach tie into knots and I was jittery. I completed the reservation, entered my credit card number and.... "DECLINED!" Was this some sort of sign? Whatever, I'm not having this, I am not about to tell my friends that I cannot do a race with them because my credit card was declined. The good people at Citi were looking out for me. Evidently, people who have multiple transactions at bars in Wisconsin in a weekend do not sign up for Ironman races in Switzerland the next day. Citi released the hold on the transaction and I successfully registered.
My next big challenge is picking the charity(ies) that I will race to support. When I told my boss of my new endeavor, he suggested that I race for the Human Fund. If any of you have any good, that is legitimate, ideas about a charity send it my way!
I didn't give doing the race a second thought.... Until last week.
Chris and I had exchanged multiple emails regarding our personal futures on the tri team that we have been training with over the last year. When she emailed me and told me her story about how she would be doing an IM, I felt inspired. Her passion for life and the attitude with which she approaches training I find to be both motivational and practical. As she talked of finding purpose in supporting a charity, I felt my heart more compelled to want to train with and support my friend in her endeavor. Then, I realized that I could be less selfish in my athletic pursuits and raise money for a charity too.
The way I see it, there are two types of people in the world, those who study and make calculated decisions, reading anything that they can get their hands on and making informed decisions; then there are those who shoot from the hip, learn as they go and hope for the best. I fall into the second category. Especially when alcohol is involved. After two glasses of wine on a Monday evening, I found myself saying to Chris, "If you do it, I'll do it."
I didn't sleep that night. Every time I rolled over there was a burning excitement about what I had almost committed myself to doing. I was not totally on board with it as I had yet to register for a race. In the meantime, I emailed my Father, also known as my conscience, and asked him what he thought. His response: "I know you can do it, but I am not sure that it is the best use of your time. No one gets healthier by working out more than one hour per day." He said enough: "I know you can do it." That was all I needed to hear, if the one person who truly "gets me" knows I can do it, I'm going to do it. The latter part of his comment made me laugh - no one does an Ironman to get healthier. If anything, it proves that we are all insane.
When Chris emailed Borko and me to tell us that she signed up, a long drawn out sigh came out of my mouth in the sound of an obscenity that begins with the letter "F". I'm not only doing an Ironman now, but I am flying to another continent to do it. This is going to be time consuming and expensive, which as triathletes, we all know that those two words are true of this lifestyle we get wrapped up in, but it was about to reach a whole new level.
Friday morning, I joined Borko for a bike ride in the park. As we came up a hill at the lower loop of Central Park I told him about how I was nervous that Chris may not do the Nation's Triathlon that we are sigend up for on September 13. That's when I said, "I am going to tell her that if she'll do Nation's, I will sign up for Switzerland." Lucky for me, she sealed the deal.
I spent this last weekend celebrating a life of debauchery at the Jimmy Buffett concert in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. In the 3 days of boozing, I finished one 3.5 mile run. As I deplaned this morning feeling like a broken destoyed shell of a human being, I looked at my friend and said, "I'm signing up for an Ironman today."
When I went to register, the nervous energy swelling inside me was making my stomach tie into knots and I was jittery. I completed the reservation, entered my credit card number and.... "DECLINED!" Was this some sort of sign? Whatever, I'm not having this, I am not about to tell my friends that I cannot do a race with them because my credit card was declined. The good people at Citi were looking out for me. Evidently, people who have multiple transactions at bars in Wisconsin in a weekend do not sign up for Ironman races in Switzerland the next day. Citi released the hold on the transaction and I successfully registered.
My next big challenge is picking the charity(ies) that I will race to support. When I told my boss of my new endeavor, he suggested that I race for the Human Fund. If any of you have any good, that is legitimate, ideas about a charity send it my way!
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