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.

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.

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.

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.