Starting to Goal-Dream


I do not do New Years resolutions.  I just don’t and never have.  I guess maybe I have always missed the point, or have felt like I do not want to set myself up to fail.  Statistics are staggering on how many make resolutions and do not follow through.  The optimist in me, of course, is overjoyed at the ones that do their best at carrying them out and succeed.  I guess it seems silly to me to make these grand decisions instead of micro-decisions throughout the year.  I mean, we all change, everyday….so why not make mini decisions throughout your changing, daily life?  Why not adapt and learn as life carries you?

I do, however, set goals.  This happens year round, so I don’t necessarily feel that it is a “resolution” and being that it is now January 13th, I’ve kind of missed the window of opportunity in making them resolutions.  My goals change.  They change often and they make up a myriad of different situations.  As I sit and assess this coming year race wise, I have no choice but to make goals.  Which races to enter, how to train, do I change running shoes (again) how do I become faster, eat cleaner, and manage my time well during the training season?  Do I get a new bike, or is the one I have going to carry me through this race season (she’s a great bike)Unknown-2

Unknown-1Speaking of training….I am one week out from “officially” starting the training for my third Ironman.  Wow!  It’s exciting!  It makes me get these butterflies in my stomach like I am about to jump off of a cliff.  That feeling of exhilaration and nausea.  The sweaty palms, the tingly fingers.  I will be doing a 27-week training plan for this race.  I am hopeful that the cross-training that a triathlon provides through varying swim, bike and run days, will keep me injury free and not have the situation I was in this summer that took me out of my Fall marathon.  I am happy that I have learned over the years, that less is really more as far as training goes for me.  I mean, I trained for my last Ironman in 9 weeks (not advised) but it worked out, and I have the PR to prove it.  I started a sort of “weening into” training last week.  My coach gave me a 2-week warm up….”OH hello triathlon body…time to wake up!!”  I have to say, it has been nice to be back on a plan.  Not that I have been sitting on the couch for months, but I have definitely been more, shall we say, lenient, in my training.


I am once again, looking forward to sweaty feet, tired muscles, stinky running shoes, helmet head, a chaffed bottom side (for a while…ok always)  visor hair, living in tri-gear, catching up on every movie on Netflix during trainer rides, napping, falling into bed completely used up physically from a hard training day, blisters, the squeeze of compression socks, a car that looks like I am living out of it, snaps on the head from my swim cap, goggle eyes, the foam roller (ok, that’s a lie) the Stick (ok, that’s an even bigger lie) and the fabulous perfume of chlorine!Unknown


Straight Through to the Finish Line (Ironman Canada)

The moment that something hits you like a ton of bricks can be overwhelming, overpowering, a brutal reality, and like a ray of sunshine all at the same moment.  How you deal with the ton of bricks, makes all the difference in the World!  Do you allow it to consume you?  Do you sit an dwell on it?  Or do you stare it in the face, and head straight into the pile of bricks? Maybe for some its a process.  Me?  I am an “all steam forward” kind of girl.  The ton of bricks in this case, was the fact that I was half way through the marathon of Ironman Canada, upset, dealing with relentless pain, and BAM…. realized…no water.  Pains of dehydration?

Anyone who has done an IM gets to the point, at some time during the day, that they figure, can it get any worse?  So…”what the heck, I’ll try it” takes over.

With my hubby leap frogging me on his scooter, and pushing me, mile after mile….to just go ONE more mile, I thought, at the next aid station, I am taking in a FULL cup of water.  I knew I would finish the race, even walking, but I wanted AT LEAST a PR from 2010, if possible.  (Doesn’t everyone)  I came up to the next aid station, and proceeded to take a big cup of water.  I didn’t just take a tiny sip, I drank the entire thing as I walked from one end of the station to the next.  It was forced.  Drinking it was awful!  The taste was putrid to me.  I continued on my way.

At the next aid station, I realized that I was starting to come to life a bit, I drank.  Another big cup of water.  This one tasted a bit better than the last, and I could tell, my mood was improving a bit.  I saw the Hubs just past the aid station, and he told me to grab some Coke at the next stop.  I have learned from not only myself, but from friends, that flat Coke, can sometimes be like drinking liquid gold in times like this.  I could feel my stomach becoming less crampy…(no that isn’t a word, but sometimes I have to use my “me-ness” and create a word) so I started to run a bit.  Not bad.  It was a slow pace, but at least I wasn’t feeling that stomach pain of the fist 14 miles.  I trudged forward.  I saw my Scooter Boy again, and he told me our friend was right ahead of me, and he still wasn’t feeling good.

I kept up with my drinking plan at the next aid station, and added in a cup of Coke and 2 pretzels.  A new woman started to emerge. The girl, that came into this race, feeling so good and confident, was coming out of her fog.  I was starting to feel really great!!  My pace picked up little by little.  Luckily for me, the physical part of this wasn’t muscular.  It was all digestive/dehydration.  My body was not tired, my legs felt fresh, and I was feeling really positive that I could finish this IM strong.

I caught up with my friend, and walked a bit with him.  He wasn’t feeling good, and I told him to drink if he could.

The more and more I drank, the better and better I felt.  By the time I was around the 16-17-mile point, I was feeling great!!  I continued my cup of water and cup of Coke at every station.  I was becoming more and more social again with people along the course, aid station volunteers, and medical teams.  Talking, waving, and thanking them for being out there to support us.  Not that I was necessarily being anti-social, but when you are in such a dark place inside yourself, most people retreat.  For me, this means I get quiet, and not my bubbly self.  Mostly because the way I process things of agitation, pain, sadness, upheaval, annoyance, sorrow, and uncertainty  is to recognize it, strategize how to get through it, and walk right straight through the damn mess.  That’s my Fierceness.  That’s my Fearlessness (Abhaya)  That’s my Me-Ness.  And that’s exactly what happened on this day.

Pain/misery/sucky race + realization/determination/ambitiousness = PLAN OF ATTACK

And my plan was hydration!

By miles, 17,18, 19, I was cruisin’!  I was smiling.  I saw my hubs, and he said, I looked refreshed, and new.  I had that normal spring in my stride.  I was loving this race again.  Loving this run.  Loving Ironman.  I had to get over the one small fact, that my time was not going to be as I planned, but that it would indeed be a huge PR, if I could maintain my current pace.  I passed people one by one, cheering them on as I passed.  A lot of them were not looking well.  Getting tired.  Blistered, beaten by the day, the clock, the sun, the course.  A few of them asked, how I was looking so fresh?  I just kept encouraging them to keep moving!

NOW was when I wished I hadn’t given the Napalm flask to my hubs.  NOW I wish I had just kept it!  Because even though, the abdominal pains were gone and I was feeling on top of the world, I was running a little low on energy.  Energy that would’ve easily come from a few ounces of gel.  Again, knowing this was now out of my control, and that I ALONE made the decision to NOT hold onto the gel flask, I owned it, and kept moving forward.

Coming into town was surreal.  I was starting to hear the announcer, his sweet French accent waiting to call me across the finish line.  The music, the crowds.  I kept up with my pace with a huge smile on my face.  I waved, and thanked every single person I saw sitting out by the side of the road, cheering me on.  As I came into the last aid station, I saw my long-time-forever-friend (our gracious host while in Penticton)  She screamed and grabbed me after both of us realized who we were, with her offering me a Coke.  We laughed so hard!!  She hugged my sweat drenched & salt covered body without even giving it a second thought.  And when I said, “I am all sweaty and gross” her sweet daughter ran to me, arms open wide, and said “I DON’T EVEN CARE! I want a hug!”  It was a rock-star moment for me!  And was EXACTLY the last push I needed to get to the finish line.  Right around that time, a guy that had been running on and off with me, caught back up to me.  We ran our entire way through the last winding streets.  Talking about the day.  He was exhausted and hurting.  He told me, that no matter what, he was going to keep up with me until the end.  We came into the last mile.  That bittersweet start/finish area I talked about.  This time, feeling completely used up, as we passed by the finishers chute and back out to the turn around on the Lake Drive.  He noted that this part felt like torture.  And that he was having a hard time keeping up.  I…like I do with my friends when we run and I push them to a faster pace, did what I always do…started talking to him.  Asking him where he was from, who was he here with, how many IM’s had he done?  I kept him talking, so he wouldn’t think about how he felt.  We ran by the restaurants filled with spectators, and from out of nowhere I hear a loud, rowdy, raucous coming from one of the restaurants.  Friends!!  Cheering for me!!  My “friend” running with me, says, “Wow!!  You’ve got some great fans!”  We round the last part of the course, and head towards the finish…again, more friends, yelling my name, cheering loudly, carrying me right down the road.  I had learned that this was my new friends first Ironman, so as we neared the chute, I tell him to go.  GO!  Go run through, and breathe in every single second of this part, because one; your pain goes away immediately as you start down that chute.  Your entire day of suffering, distress, worry, anxiety, aching muscles, fatigue, tiredness, all disappears.  And you are left with the most euphoric feeling.  And two; you only get your first finish of an Ironman, one time.  I wanted him to have his moment.  He of course, being a total gentleman, pushed me forward, and said, “NO, go for it!!”  And I did!  I ran down the row of madness.  Deafening sounds of the bells, horns, clapping, screaming, music and the pounding that is an Ironman finishers chute.  I soared, with my arms out by my side, floating, high-fiving and with an enormous smile on my face, right through the banner, and through the finish!  Remarkable!  That is a feeling that I could relive over and over.  It’s those certain days that play over and over in your mind.  Distinct, finite, precise memories that never fade from your mind.  Days like, graduating college, getting married, getting your first pay check, having your children, buying your first home and finishing an Ironman.  I don’t care if it’s your first or fiftieth, what time you finish, if you PR, having the best day ever or the worst, that is a day you won’t easily forget.  After all of the hard work, sacrifice, resolve, steadfastness and loyalty to your sport, your training plan, your family, your coach, your training partners and to yourself, to cross that finish line is like sweet rain.

Of course crossing the finish line to see your friends and family there is incredible!  The laughing, tears, hugs and party that ensues afterwards is priceless and unforgettable!!

I did PR this Ironman by 1 hour and 16 minutes!  I immediately told my friends and family that I was done with these RIDICULOUS distances, and that I would NEVER do another Ironman.  They laughed.  My husband laughed the hardest because he knows me too well!  Of course two days later, I was singing a different tune, and considering which IM will be my next.  That’s just how I roll!!

*Special thank you, first and foremost to God for giving me the physical ability to be able to race, swim, bike and run.  For continually whispering in my ear that day, that He had me.  Phil 4:13  For keeping me able-bodied, strong, and giving me the courage to start the race! “and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” Heb 12:1

To my Scooter Boy. He has stood by my side in good and bad, and REALLY bad.  He has held my hand, my heart, my body, my laughter and my tears.  He encourages me every single day to be the best version of myself that I can possibly be.  He is my biggest supporter and biggest fan.  I wake, daily, thankful for this man in my life!

My family.  They are there cheering me on no matter how crazy the race day may be.  They encourage me, hold me up, and call me out.  Their calls, texts, emails, signs they made, cards, fist pumps, high-fives and praise are so amazing.  I am proud to be a Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister and Aunt that they can look up to.

My coach.  When I thought all was lost, he was a voice of reason.  He pushed my ass hard.  Made me work for this, and was great at promoting and encouraging me at every workout, every day.  He told me from day one, I had to be “game on” in order to finish this Ironman on such a tight training time frame.  His plan was straight forward.  He listened to me about workouts, injuries, and some days…just lamenting about having a bad day or bad attitude.

And my friends.  Every single one of you are amazing.  Thank you for being there for me.  For training with me.  For allowing me to vent, cry on your shoulder and laugh with me, for supporting me no matter what!  And for those who train with me, for keeping me motivated and driven to reach that finish.  It’s nice to have people who can hold you up, and vice-versa.   Each of you, is a huge piece of the puzzle of my life.  A thread in the fabric of my existence, and I adore every single one of you.

***And special congratulations to ALL of my friends/training partners that finished that day!  Well done, my friends! Well done!! (And the friend leap frogging me all day, yes, he had an incredible finish….not too far behind me) 

Coming out of the fog, and LOVING the run!!

Feeling Great!!

Signs from my Family….Take THAT Chuck Norris!!

That’s Right!!

Family and Friends

My Finisher’s Victory Leap!!

All Worth the Bling

Moving Forward. Your Only Option! Ironman Canada Run

One of these days I am going to get this right!  The marathon of the Ironman.  Running is my passion.  I have been a runner since I was a young girl.  I have always loved it.  In 2010, I couldn’t WAIT to get to the marathon of Ironman Coeur d’Alene.  That’s where my magic would happen.  We won’t go back and talk about how not magical that day was was.

Canada…my time to redeem what had happened in 2010.

My run training was kicking butt!  Aside from the fact that… I trained only 9 weeks for Canada.  I almost didn’t race, and literally at the 11th hour, called a friend and coach of mine, to see if we could salvage this Ironman in any way.  We had 9 weeks, start to finish.  7 training weeks, and 2 weeks of taper.  **Now (disclaimer) I do not, and would not suggest this training plan to anyone.  AND, I am not coming from a seat on my couch into this training.  I had an incredibly strong base to start with.  So, I went into this race thinking “just finish” and  “what can I push my body to do?”

So back to the story~ Off of the bike into T2, I was feeling great!  My bike had been awesome, and I had tons of gas in the tank, my body feeling awesome!  In T2, I talked to myself…..talked through the fact that even though my training had not been as it should, I was feeling GREAT!  I felt strong, had hit my long runs, but was a little concerned that my longest run had been 17-miles.  HOW.  WAS.  I.  GOING.  TO.  PULL.  OUT.  ANOTHER.  NINE.  MILES?  But I trusted my training.

This time in transition, I did have a “personal attendant”  She was sweet, and we talked about Ironman Lake Stevens 70.3.  She was wearing the visor from this years race.  I commented and let her know that I would be racing there next year. (My first 70.3)  Yes, I do things backward!  As I changed, she told me her story about her race….that’s all I remember.  Not the story…but that she told me about it….and wanted to keep telling me about it, as I was trying to leave transition.  HAHA!  Three things were going through my mind at this point; 1. I felt GREAT!  2. Don’t forget to hit the water station on the way out to fill my Napalm flask, and 3. Ummm….the friend I caught on the bike was probably out of transition (BOYS!  They are so much faster) and there needed to be a little chase down!

Right out of T2, I saw my friend who was volunteering.  I ran towards her, screaming and fist pumping until I got to her embrace.  We hugged and jumped up and down, screaming!  What a great moment!  It’s moments like that during these races that are unforgettable.  It’s something you carry with you.  Something, you dig out of your heart pocket later on when you need a pep-talk, and a reason to keep moving forward.

I rounded the corner back down the Lake Drive.  This part of the course at the beginning of the run is so fantastic.  Lined with spectators, cow bells, horns, kids running all over, people waving their signs, and one of the best places to see family and friends. It’s lined with restaurants full of cheering “fans.”  This part is also one of the hardest parts (for me) because when you are finishing, you run RIGHT past the finishers chute, and have this one-mile loop heading away from the finish, back out, then turn around to head back to the finish.  It’s bittersweet.

Along the first part as I was heading into this little loop, I saw so many friends.  People who had made the drive up to Canada, JUST to cheer us on.  Again, seeing people you know, means the World.  I came up to the turn around, and the first timing mat, and saw my family.  Screaming, and jumping up and down!  I stopped for photo ops, sweaty hugs, and to chit chat for a brief second.  I told them, I was feeling SO great.  Running on dead legs (that is to be expected and I know that goes away) but over-all I was feeling like a million bucks!  They then let me know….that our friend, was right ahead of me.  They told me, “you have to go catch him!”  **I love living in this town.  There are a lot of triathletes.  All of them our friends (even if you don’t know one another, there is that bond).  It is so nice to have healthy competition!  So….with a little wave, I was off.  I caught up to my friend, and chatted for a minute.  We laughed because I think he knew, I was coming to chase him down.  Then, I was off!

I knew that people had said this run course was “challenging”  I had driven in a few weeks prior when my friends and I came up to ride the bike course.  It was challenging.  Some really good hills!  But I like that type of run course.    It was also beautiful, with sections along the lake, that I knew would take my mind off of any issues that would plague me.

My first 3-4 miles, I felt so good!!  I was keeping a great pace.  Smiling, waving and talking to spectators and people on the course.  That is another wonderful thing about racing.  The people you meet along the way.  I cannot say this enough!  I was, at this point thinking to myself, that this race was going to be amazing, with the way I felt.  I tried to keep on my target pace, per my coaching and training, but a few times was having a hard time keeping my pace under control.  I felt THAT good!  Then, out of nowhere…pain!  Pain, in my ribs, pain in my lower abdomen.  Not sickness, but stabbing. I blew it off for a few minutes, until it hit again, so hard that it stopped me in my tracks, and doubled me over.


I stood back up, and walked a few steps.  I felt alright, so I started to run again.  WHAM!  Hit again.  Doubled over. I really could not figure out what was going on.  I stood up again, and walked.  Feeling better, I started a slow jog, and again, one after another after another, these stabbing pains in my ribs and lower belly.  I could tell that they weren’t necessarily from GI distress.  I have been down THAT road before.  This was different.

I decided I just needed to walk a while.  I had a young girl (maybe early 20’s) walk up to me…we talked.  This was her first triathlon.  The 2nd woman I had met on this course, that this was their first, ever triathlon.  WOW!  She was struggling a bit also with some leg pain.  It’s nice to have someone to commiserate with.  We decided we would try running a bit, but it ended for both of us quickly.  We tried to stay positive and encourage one another.  Again, we ran, and stopped.  This continued for probably another mile.  A very long, excruciating mile! Then…like magic, her leg cramps disappeared.  She was sweet, and said, she felt bad to leave me.  “Are you kidding me?  GO!!”  “Rock the rest of this race!”  My words to her.  I hope, she had a fantastic finish.  I never saw her again.  I dropped her story, pain and gratitude into my heart pocket.

I started to become really down, somewhere around 10 miles.  This was a disaster, and I just could not figure out what was going on.  I kept stopping at aide stations, port-potties (thinking maybe….that was the problem) but noting was helping.  Just before mile 11ish, I just couldn’t take it.  I sat down.  I had literally just passed a man, laying in the dirt, curled up into a tiny ball, writhing around.  I stopped and asked if he was alright, and did I need to flag down medical.  He moaned, and said no.  This is the thing about Ironman, these althletes are some of the toughest people I have met.  That utter will to finish at all cost.  That determination, fortitude, courageousness, bravery, and resolve is like none other.  I could tell this man, in pain and in the dirt, was going to pull it together and finish!  As I sat on the road, everyone that passed me asked about my well-being.  Kind, good-natured, merciful people..all concerned about their fellow racers.  My heart was sinking at this point.  I really was uncertain that I would be able to finish.  Tears pricked my eyes.  I had COMPLETELY blew my time!  I was sad, angry and unforgiving to myself.  Medical came up to me, and asked how I was and if I was done with my race.  “Paula, are you done with your race?”  Am I?  I shook my head, no, and he asked if I could please stand up and walk with him a few steps.  I did, and when we reached his bike, I didn’t stop.  He yelled to me, to have a great rest of my race.  I just kept walking with my head down.

Another aide station…I stopped and went into the Porta-potty, and just sat there.  It was steaming hot in there, and I just sat.  Then….all of a sudden, I hear it…my husbands Scooter!!  NO WAY!  He’s out on the course, driving and looking for me.  I came bursting out of the potty to see him disappearing around the corner.  I was about to lose it from sadness.  I just needed to see him.  My heart broke!  I walked through the rest of the aide station in a fog.  I heard a few people ask if I was ok…I ignored them.  I was in misery.  Still in pain, still unable to run, and now…my biggest fan just missed me.  I took a tiny sip of water at this aide station.  The 1st one in a while.

It seemed like forever before I saw my husband.  He had driven out to the turn around, Run Special Needs, and was a little concerned he said, when he didn’t see me.  Thank goodness he had to come back.  This run is a out and back.  He stopped and I told him, I just wasn’t sure I was going to be able to continue on.  I walked and he rode in the road next to me.  I wanted to just hop on the back of his scooter, and be done with this whole thing.  He told me, our friend who I had passed at the start of our run was not doing well either.  Same issue as me, and was not far behind me, but was struggling as well, and was considering stopping.  I continued walking. Hubs said he was going to ride up to special needs and wait for me.  He left.  I wasn’t sure, truthfully, if I would make it to special needs.

I plodded along, meeting another woman walking who told me this was her 2nd Ironman.  After the first one she said she would never do it again.  Then….her best friend developed cancer, and it was her goal to overcome cancer, and complete an Ironman.  She told me with tears in her eyes of the journey of her friend.  Her surgery, radiation and chemo.  About her incredible braveness to be undergoing chemo, but making the decision to sign up, train and race IM Canada.  More and more of their friends jumped on board, and there were a whole group of them racing, honoring their friend’s fight to make it to the start, and ultimately to her first Ironman finish.  As we walked, she told me how sore she was, and that every part of her wanted to give up, but she just couldn’t.  “Look what my friend has gone through…if she is still out here, we are still out here!”

Again…another story I tucked into my heart pocket, and continued forward.

As I came down the hill towards special needs, I had that familiar pang of wanting to stop, but then thinking, there are only 13.1 more miles to go.  I had come 127.5 miles….was I really going to stop, or was I going to will myself on, remembering the stories, not beat myself up for blowing my run time, for allowing myself to show some grace to my body and soul for being a “runner” who was not running on this day?

I got into special needs, and almost to the timing mat and turn around, when from out of nowhere my friends BOUNDED in front of me over the mat, and said, “I’m gonna beat you!”  And over that timing mat he went! It made me laugh so hard!  And I felt happy, that he must be feeling better.  I saw my hubs and sat down with him with my SN bag.  I took my shoes off and noticed the huge blisters covering the entire bottom of my right foot, a blister along the right edge of my foot, and wrapped up around my pinky toe.  My  last two toes on the right foot were also red and bleeding at the cuticle.  No wonder my feet had started to hurt.  I changed my socks, and put some BioFreeze on my feet.  That stung, but cooled them down, and it felt incredible.  I got up, took a sip of water and told my hubs that I was going to try to make it one more mile to the next aid station.  I handed him my 2nd gel flask, because I knew I wasn’t going to use it.  I wasn’t taking in any nutrition at the time, and just couldn’t.  I had managed in the first 13 miles to down my Napalm, but barely.  He said, “are you sure you want me to take it?”  Knowing he could not give it back to me if I needed it on the course.  On course help during an Ironman (besides the aid they provide) will get you DQ’ed.  I had him take it, and off he went to meet me at mile 14.  BIG Mistake!

As I watched him ride back up the hill out of special needs, I wanted to bawl!!  People cheering me on were not helping.  I was so miserable!  I hated ever step I took.  I hated everything about Ironman.  I was mad at myself, mad at my body, mad at my mind, mad that I hadn’t trained harder, mad that I had decided to race at the last minute, and just irritated about the whole RIDICULOUSNESS of an Ironman race!  And I was sad, for all of the above reasons.  Such an overwhelming stream of emotions.

And then something dawned on me….I had barely had any water!    ~To be Con’t


The beginning of the run! Feeling great!!


Stopping in for a photo op with my friends and family!