Perspective for the People

When I started this blog three years ago, at the outset of my first Ironman season, I knew I’d name it 3-P’s, as a tribute to my trusty carbon race horse, a P3. Power. Performance. Possibilities. That’s what I settled on. But truthfully, I really wrestled with the words because I wanted Perspective to be a P word too. (But we tri geeks all know the P4 was a flop and anyone who bought one got rid of it right away.) So perspective never made the title cut, but it’s something that has come up as a theme before. Not just on my blog, but in my Facebook musings. Once again, today it’s all about perspective.

In 2013 I did my first Ironman in Lake Placid. In 2014 I battled the wicked weather that was served up in Lake Placid for my second. What the hell, may as well go for the trifecta…. 2015 and Ironman #3. To know me is to know I LOVE Lake Placid for all its history deep seeded in athletics. The energy, the chiseled bodies, those glorious rolling hills, and the way the sun heats you up and the wind tunnels try to cool you down. Some people only know me as a competitive athlete. It is the biggest and loudest of my personas. Is that all about to change?

As spring threatens to be sprung, the days of winter cling in Vermont. They always do… My winter was highlighted by a 60 day run streak, a serious commitment to winter bike training via Computrainer training, and the wanderlust of another glorious winter skiing the hills of Vermont. I made my home at Stowe this winter. Unlike triathlon where I am committed to the lifestyle fully, when it comes to skiing I’m more of a weekend warrior. I logged more days than most weekend warriors and in March limited myself to one day of skiing on the weekend because bike and run durations were getting longer and longer. March 29^th I was skiing with friends; Steph who I skied with a lot early in the season and my co-worker Ben and his buddies. Suffice it to say I was skiing with the boys and leading the pack. They spent all morning trying to catch me. Finally they caught me around 11:30 when near the bottom of the hill they came upon my crumpled body on the side of the trail. Like a hot shot, I was skiing fast, in a tucked position, and caught an edge on frozen surface. There was nowhere to go but down. I hit hard. Tumbled a bunch. And before my body came to a stop I already knew my right knee was in trouble. I tried to get myself off the mountain, but in the end I just couldn’t. (I always try to get my money’s worth and a ride on the toboggan is one way! Remember when I got the free tire race day in Lake Placid last year?!?!)

Always time for a sled selfie!

Long story short, I annihilated my ACL, have a low grade tear of my MCL, a couple of bone fractures and enough swelling and bruising to scare any insurance company. On that day, March 29^th, my entire triathlon season ended before it had even begun. Nosedive. That’s the name of the trail where it all happened. Really.

Treatment began immediately following my crash. On a Sunday. I was evaluated twice, had xrays and an MRI, and was doing surgical consultations before most people even get an MRI. How is that possible? Because I have Carol Blattspieler on my team! She’s a leading Ortho Nurse Practitioner in Burlington and a fellow Ironman. We stick together. She took control of the situation and made $hit happen. (Have I thanked you yet today, Carol?) Surgery is scheduled. May 15^th at the University of Vermont Medical Center with an up and coming hot shot sports medicine specialist. The same one that put my best friend and training partner back together after a bike crash last May.

My job right now is to rehab my body so that I can have surgery. Physical therapy two times a week and lots of exercises to improve range of motion. In two weeks I’m traveling to Italy. While you all get caught up in the images Italy conjures up, the harsh reality for me is that I was traveling to Italy to race a Half Ironman. I will be making the trip, but I will not have my bike in tow. I’m sure I’m not prepared for the roller coaster of emotions that will present. I’ll be there with good people and I hope the trip will mostly be therapeutic. (Yes please, more wine.)

Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation & Garth!

The colors of the back story get boring, so I’ll get to the lesson here. Perspective. It’s easy to be sad and dwell on the fact I’ve cancelled all my races. But I find myself saying, “at least it’s not cancer.” Yes, thankfully it’s not cancer. We already went to that party and it was no fun. But here’s the thing…. Just when we think life as we know it is over….a whole new world is exposed. I sit here today (leg elevated) knowing the only reason I am an Ironman is because cancer entered my world and threatened to knock me down. So while I sit here once again with thoughts of life as I know it being over, I am reminded that is far from the truth. With a strong mind and body, there is no end to the possibilities that sing and dance on the other side of this. I know I will return to Ironman, but who knows what other discoveries I’ll make along the way. The next 7-10 months will be very different for me. They will not be highlighted by 100 mile bike rides and 20 miles runs. (For my Facebook followers, there won’t be daily pictures of me and my bike. What ever will you do?) But other experiences will unfold and new practices will take shape. And eventually I’ll pedal a bike. Really pedal a bike. And I’ll run. And the me that will come out the other side stands to be even greater than the me that went into this. That’s kinda cool.

My first full revolution. My bike hates me for those flat pedals.

I haven’t fully dealt with the emotional blow of cancelling an entire race season, but….Nope, life sure ain’t over. Not mine….and probably not yours either. So if things aren’t going the way you want personally, professionally, athletically…I encourage you to get some perspective in your diet. It’s rather tasty and can cure common ailments. Chin up, kids; you gotta lift your head to see the good stuff. When I forget (and I will), please remind me.

Then and now....

Thirty Day Run Streak....Math Does Not Compute

Hi. Remember me? I launched this blog in January 2013 as a way of chronicling my Ironman journey. I promised I’d only write when I had something meaningful to say and that it would never be a boring account of my training. I learned a lot and shared some things throughout that training cycle. And then I went silent. Writing nothing throughout my 2014 season. Why? Because I didn’t think I had anything to share. I had learned a lot in my first go at Ironman and was quietly doing the work. You may recall my mantra for 2013 was #doepicshit. In stark contrast, 2014 was simply the year of #dothework. I did the work. There are some parts of the season I'd like to erase. I took some time off. And the truth is, I’ve been back at it for the 2015 season for some time now.

On December 1^st I committed to a month-long run streak, whereby I would run every single day in December, ending with a hurrah with First Run on New Year’s Day. This was undertaken as a means to jumpstart my pre-season, establish some routine, and build some durability. Which is really all a diluted way of saying I needed to drop ten pounds. Well….we don’t always stick to the plan and one thing I’ve learned in training and life is you have to allow yourself some latitude to modify the course.

Nope. I didn’t do the 31 days of running I committed to. I did 60. You see…on December 3^rd (just two days after my streak began), one of my closest friends put his entire life on hold so that he and his wife could take up temporary residence in NYC. Lucky them, right? Not so fast. They were making this move to seek out the best cancer treatment in the world. <Gulp.> My friend John has been battling thyroid cancer for over five years. He has undergone four surgeries and countless blood tests, xrays, poking and prodding, and constant surveillance since day one. All while that fucking disease continued to proliferate and take over healthy cells. 

Thyroid cancer is rare and makes up only 1% of all cancers, although it is one of the fastest growing cancers and the rate of growth in Vermont far outpaces the national average. No one knows why. John and I are part of the 1%. Lucky us…..or something like that. Anyway, I’m getting a bit off topic here. The run streak….we were talking about the run streak. On December 3^rd, John and Shosh moved to NYC and on December 6^th he began seven grueling weeks of daily radiation and weekly chemotherapy. The day he moved, I dedicated my streak to John and agreed to streak until his treatment was over. December 1 to January 23…54 days. So why 60? Well, I am an Ironman after all and when you’re that close, we tend to go for broke. Not to mention, John’s fight was far from over just because the treatment ceased. So I continued to streak, no matter what life or Ma Nature threw at me.

Is this safe to run on?

Maybe you know I live in Vermont. Maybe you know we’ve had some extreme weather this winter. By extreme I do not mean snow (which I would LOVE). It has been brutally cold and icy, with wind that rips through you, blows the tears out of your eyes, and then freezes them to your face. Every day I was out there. Running for JT. Outside. When it was bliss…I ran for JT. When it hurt….I ran for JT. When I didn’t want to….I ran for JT. In the dark….I ran for JT. Every. Damn. Day. Because no combination of outside elements and residual fatigue in my world could compare to the barrage of hellfire he was under. I ran. Because I can. JT came home Saturday having endured the treatments with courage and strength. He did it while inspiring us, always keeping a smile, and often making us laugh. He is a truly remarkable human being and I am lucky to have him in my inner circle. While he thanked me profusely for streaking on his behalf telling me he would draw strength from me as he became weak, the truth is, it is I who drew strength from him. Thank you, JT. I love you so much.

A little back story on JT and I….we first met in 2010 when I started a new job at the company where he works. He had heard about me and sought me out to introduce himself. JT was in the midst of his first year of treatment and I was barely a year post treatment. I didn’t want to talk about cancer. JT took a very public approach to his journey, whereas I kept mine secret. Maybe if I didn’t talk about it, it would go away….I don’t know. I just know I never talked about it. I gave JT the cold shoulder (as I probably often do when people rock me outside my comfort zone). He came back a week later. Secretly I was annoyed. I made it very clear I did not want to talk about cancer. JT played by my rules for a while, but before I knew it, we were talking openly about it. The similarities and differences, strategies for coping, and at some point the realization JT was one of the most influential people in my life. 

You’re reading this blog so you know I do triathlon. You might even think the only persona of Nancy is that of triathlete or Ironman. JT gets some serious credit for inspiring me to give it a tri, I mean try. He encouraged me to learn how to swim and connected me with my first swim coach. He took me on my first bike ride on the open road. He accompanied me on all my long runs when I trained for my first marathon…16-18-20 miles. He took me on my first trail run. He taught me that running was a year-round sport…even in Vermont! John was there in Lake Placid in both 2013 and 2014 cheering me on. Shoshi too! (He made me cry. Both times.) So yup, this guy is pretty important to my program.

JT and I at Run Your Can Off

My program….The run streak may be over, but I’m carrying with me a level of fitness it took until March to achieve last year and a refreshed attitude for what it means to tackle the hard stuff. Base Building Phase 1 is for building durability. Did that. And so much more...

I shared this with you to honor John, but also as a harsh dose of perspective. If your life is sucking because you hate your job or you’re sick of being cold or your car won’t start or your co-worker is being a douche bag, maybe you should put things in perspective and reflect on what real pain and suffering might be. I believe real pain and suffering looks like radioactive frequencies beamed into your body and toxic juice pumped into your veins….all of which renders you sicker than the cancer you’re trying to cure. Other things too, but most will never know true pain and suffering. Lucky you. The rest, mere inconvenience. Perspective people.

Friends have encouraged me to re-launch this blog. They say I’m an inspiration. I say I’m just an ordinary girl tackling the extraordinary. We’re all capable of it. What’s your extraordinary?

The 2015 season is sure to include some excitement. More about that another time. Off to go ride my bike…

Operation Ironman Lake Placid 2014

I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. Nope. What is it about the flip of the calendar that triggers the do-good in people? How about recognizing the opportunity to make changes and do better each and every day? Waiting for the new year is wasting time. You deserve better than that. But here we are, 2014 is upon us and for me this represents the start of a new training season and seven months of all things Ironman. YES! Before the awesome train leaves the station, I want to reflect on some of my favorite moments of 2013. Moments that undoubtedly will sound like bragging. Not my intent, but this is my self pep talk to kick off a big training season. This one’s more for me. But I bet you’ll find some inspiration within.

January 2013 my friend John Tedesco ran the ING Miami Marathon. I ran all of his long runs with him. Something he has done with me when I was marathon training. John had taken his runs to the track as a way of attempting to acclimate to the Miami heat. Round and round and round on that damn 1/8^th mile track at The Edge... We were doing his final long run before the race. He was setting the pace. In the final half mile, he had gas in the tank and felt the need for a little speed so we kicked it up a notch or two or ten! He was still setting the pace, but we were running faster than I’d ever seen him run. Recognizing he could run yet faster, as we rounded the corner for our final lap, I told him I was going to be in his back pocket punishing pushing him. The more I pressed, the faster he ran! When we finished I told him we were running sub-6:00 pace. He just looked at me and said, “It’s nice to finally hear you breathing.” While he didn’t append “Bitch”, it was implied….and most definitely appropriate. This was a huge compliment and I’ve thought of this moment time and time again. Now that my self full-filling part of the story is over, I have to add some color to John’s marathon journey. This wasn’t John’s first marathon…far from it. It was his 8^th, but it was different from the rest and so gigantically symbolic, as John had drawn the parallel that a marathon was akin to life. You see, John was racing just nine short weeks after undergoing his second surgery to rid his body of the cancerous cells growing within. This is a really big deal, people. Think about that when you’re complaining about whatever obstacle is in front of you. John Tedesco, you are a rock star!

My next moment of happiness comes from REV. I have a good friend, Amelia Leme, a kick ass personal trainer and a frequent partner in crime for many of my shenanigans. If you’ve ever had a personal torturer trainer, you know the depth of the love and hate that coexist, sometimes even at the same time. Amelia sent one of her clients to my spin class at REV. During the cool down, I said to Sasha, “If you hate me half as much as you hate Amelia right now, that would make me happy.” To which she replied without hesitation, “I hate you more than Amelia right now.” Grand slam!!! Sasha, you have no idea how many times that moment has propelled me in 2013!

The next two things that really struck me in 2013 came from my Ironman journey. Specifically, race day. Sarah DeGray, esteemed owner of my beloved REV Indoor Cycling, was in Lake Placid the day I became an Ironman. She was a constant supporter and offered so much encouragement throughout my transformation. Race day, she shared the following with me: 

“WOW - today was truly an emotional and special day. I am so happy to have witnessed part of Nancy Ovitt's journey to 140.6 of true grit, greatness and smiles. Every step of the way she was energized and lovely - happy - even giddy. I'm so proud of Nancy - she has worked hard for her goals and now she is an IRONWOMAN... but the funny this is that we all knew she was one even before today, now the rest of the world knows. Have a beautiful night's sleep Nancy and a HUGE piece of chocolate cake!”

Thanks Sarah. I take much inspiration from you and all that you do. This has resonated with me over and over.

This next one was shared with me the day after IMLP by my long-time friend, Chris Leavitt, who was in Lake Placid with his awesome wife, Josie, and their girls, Jasmin and Jade.

“My youngest daughter started her bucket list tonight.

Item 1 - Ironman Lake Placid.

As I type this both daughters are currently starting their training(sit-ups and pushups).. You are a true inspiration Nancy Ovitt...thank you for being awesome.”

<Gulp> That one still chokes me up. To inspire a ten year old after having witnessed what she thought was so awesome on that day in Lake Placid…do you still wonder why I do this?

While it was up to me to do the hard work in preparing for race day, I have to give so much credit to Jonathan Couture for being my biggest supporter and playing Captain of my entire Ironman Crew. It could be argued that he is responsible for my success in Lake Placid because he gave me the tools, skills, and confidence to complete an Ironman swim. 2.4 miles….a distance I had never remotely covered….4224 yards….a distance that was downright terrifying to me. To fail at the swim would be an end to my entire race. Aside from taking my swimming to a new level, Jonathan organized 15 people on the ground in LP. He placed people all over the course so I had support in key places. He got team t-shirts. He served as my personal paparazzi, using his media credentials to personally photograph my entire day. Thanks JC. I couldn’t have done it without you. But what left such an impression on me is words he shared with friends a few weeks after the race. He was telling friends how he knew me. (If you’re curious, it’s actually Chris Leavitt, referenced above, who gets the credit for introducing us. Thanks Leavitt!) Jonathan shared that he is not often inspired by people, but I am one person who consistently inspires him. I hold Jonathan in such a high regard and consider him one of the greatest athletes I know. To say I admire him would be an understatement, so to know I inspire him makes it even more special. Jonathan will be on the race course again in 2014. This time he won’t be working media. He’ll be racing! Good luck JC. This means I’m in need of a Race Captain. If you would like to submit an application, please do so.

There are countess moments of inspiration, giving and receiving. Everyone that was in Lake Placid that day. All of my followers online! Friends. Family. Co-workers. My teammates from The Tri Shop….the list goes on.

No doubt, Ironman was the focal point of my year. A friend asked me in the days leading up to the race what I was going to do July 29^th (the day after the race). The truth….I had no idea and I was scared to death of life without Ironman. So what did I do on July 29^th and beyond? On the 29^th I slept in. I had a huge breakfast in Lake Placid with my Mom. I went home. My heart was overflowing with satisfaction and a tremendous sense of accomplishment. I rode my bike. I ran. For fun. I did not swim. I reacquainted myself with friends. I ate. I drank. I ate. I drank some more. I taught my spin classes at REV. I started a very focused strength-training program. I started doing yoga twice a week. I rode my bike. For fun. I ran less. I still didn’t swim. I returned to the hill and skied. Hiked. Went sledding. Ran in the snow. More REV. More strength training. Yoga. I ate. Yes….I drank. And no...I didn't swim.

Today marks Day One of Operation Ironman Lake Placid 2014. I registered for 2014 on July 27^th. The day before the race, I signed up to repeat in 2014. There was no doubt in my mind I needed to do this again.

So here I am. Day One. I ran outside with Sarah Voigt and her four-legged buddy, Garth. It was 9 degrees. I am 7 pounds heavier than I was on July 28th (or at least that was the damage the last time I dared to step on the scale)! The whole of my being is full of peace, love, and light. I’ve got a lot of work ahead, but I’ve got a great support system. Coach Dave is back on board. Ryan has increased my strength to an all time high. I can do ten or more full body weight dips! Yoga is helping to offset some of the beatings I deliver to my body; it also brings a sense of calm and keeps me centered. I am starting the season exactly where I’m supposed to be. Well, except for that seven pounds…

Back to this notion of not stating New Year’s resolutions. I support you in your commitment to them. But that’s the key. Commit.

I prefer a constant state of evaluation, modification, and re-evaluation. It’s a never-ending process. I’ll never arrive. Hell, I don’t even know where I’m headed, but I can assure you I’m having a blast!

My goal for 2014 is to shave about 45 minutes off my time. I raced 13:22 last year, which put me in the top third of my age group. That’s pretty respectable, especially for a first timer, but in my constant quest to be the best ME possible, I’m gunning for sub-12:45. It won’t be easy. It’s not supposed to be easy. But I’m ready. To know me is to know I will bring the highest level of focus, dedication, and commitment to the process. I will do the work. I will make the sacrifices. I will embrace the suck. I will climb every hill. I will live. I will learn. I will grow. Wait….I mean I will embark upon self discovery. I will not grow. I need to drop those seven pounds plus an additional five or more. That’s what Coach Dave reminded me I told him last year. Sigh… Goodbye pizza. Goodbye beer. Goodbye dark chocolate.

Sounds right to me….

2013 was my best year yet, but I’ve got big plans to make 2014 even better. The colors will dazzle. The music will make your feet move. I can only hope the awesome will inspire. Peace. Beauty. Magic. Light. Love. Laughter. I look forward to seeing you along the way. Don’t blink.

The Human Side of Ironman

September 2, 2012 I posted the following on Facebook: My 2012 triathlon season came to a screeching halt with the cancellation of my final race. So that leaves me no choice but to face the beast that lies ahead. Ironman Lake Placid 2013. 140.6 miles of swimming, biking, and running through the Adirondacks. IMLP is the second oldest in Ironman history and one of the most difficult courses in the world. And that town was born of the Olympics. The combination of IM and the Olympics makes LP the one and only place I want to bear my heart and soul to the Ironman gods. July 28, 2013. I've got a lot of work to do in the next 328 days.

Well…314 days have passed and to say I’ve done a lot of work would be the understatement of the decade. I have become IronFit and I have an IronMind. I've been called a machine so many times I think I almost believed it. When my body didn't want to go, my mind made it happen. I’ve come to acquire the telltale signs of an endurance athlete – chiseled cheekbones and a roadmap of veins crisscrossing my arms and legs.

This weekend was to be my last big training weekend before I start to taper. I knew it would be a mental challenge to put in the hours, so in an 11^th inning play, I decided to go to Lake Placid and do the work there knowing I would get energy just being there. Little did I know how much I needed to be in LP. Or that I would be bearing my heart and soul to the Ironman gods, exactly as I stated in September…although when I said that I was talking about race day.

I arrived in town Friday night hoping to swim a loop of the swim course, but I didn’t have enough daylight, so I hit the grocery store for some provisions and went to bed early. My body was clearly sending a message because I slept for ten hours. My morning was going to be a big one. How big? 2.4 miles big. I was going to be doing two loops of the swim course. A full blown Ironman swim. I had never done this before and as you know, the swim is my weakness. I’m happy to report, the swim went flawlessly. I executed according to plan and swam a steady pace for the entire 2.4 miles. This was such a huge confidence boost, I could have gone home right then and the trip would have been worthwhile. I went back to the hotel, chilled for a bit, and headed out for a 4 hour bike session. I contemplated doing the full Ironman bike (112 miles), but I didn’t have time….and quite frankly I didn't have it in me. The training plan prescribed 4:00, so that’s what I did. I rode one loop of the bike course and then continued on for another 45 minutes to hit 4:00. 

The Olympic Oval

More Bikes & Skiing

You know you're in Ironman Country
when the gas stations sell these!

Navigated the course without a map. I’m starting to learn the nooks and crannies, or more accurately the ascents and descents! It was windy out there and every time a crosswind hit my deep dish wheels I was reminded of its presence. Other than being tired, the ride was pretty uneventful. Time for real food. The challenge with staggering two long training sessions is that you don’t get a real meal. Although I did buy one of those PB&J sandwiches and admit it was the best 99 cents I spent all day! After a shower, I found a seat at the bar at the Lake Placid Pub & Brewery. Eric took good care of me, first filling a glass with the house Double Wit and then by bringing me a giant cheeseburger. Yup, you heard me….a cheeseburger! A bit of the TDF on TV and back to the hotel.

Beer first. If you insist...

I didn’t sleep well and woke up tired. I needed to do a 1:00 bike ride immediately followed by a 10 mile run. Since I was in Lake Placid, I decided to do the run course for 13.1 miles. I wasn’t excited about the bike, but knew the benefit of having to switch from my bike legs to my run legs. I set out on the bike course with the plan of riding 30 minutes and then turning around and riding back the same route. I reached my turnaround and was 40 minutes into the ride. I was reflecting on my journey, cruising down a -4% grade at 33mph in the aerobars. The crosswinds were still there pushing me around. I was overcome with the idea that my Ironman journey would come to a screeching halt if I were to get hurt. And that’s when it happened…. A car dusted me at full speed and the swirling draft sucked me across the white line. Way across the white line. Because I was in the aerobars I had no access to my brakes and my ability to react was limited. Some how I got out of the bars and corrected the situation without incident, but the damage was done. I was afraid to be on my bike. My bike. The place I spend so much time….the place that brings me so much joy. Terrified. I pulled it together and got back into town. Never was I so happy to start the climb into Lake Placid coming from the ski jumps. As the road flattened, I found myself unable to get back in the bars. I made it back to the hotel in a cold sweat with a twisted up stomach.

So much for my bike/run brick. I needed some time to compose myself and settle my mind/body. I finally switched over to the run gear and headed back out. Pure IronWill was calling the shots at this point. Had I been home, I probably would have bailed on this run. I was struggling big time. My body seemed to be in a good rhythm, but my mind was all over the place. I couldn’t focus. I reached the five mile point and stopped. Right there on the side of the road. These are Adirondack roads - no sidewalks, no shoulders, no nothing. I stopped, took a gel, and emptied a water bottle. I realized there was no place to get water out there, so I had to return back to town. Fine with me. But I couldn’t pull it together. I stood there overcome with emotion. Picture me squatting down, holding my head in my hands, tears pricking at the back of my eyes. I wanted to just sit down and let it all out. I didn’t. But I was there for several minutes trying to get my act together.

This was the view when I had my breakdown.
Breathed in some of that beauty and got back to work.

Started the five mile run back to town. Downhill. Right away the Olympic ski jumps are in sight. Thank you Lake Placid. I needed that boost. I finally settled my mind and grooved back into town. Those that know the course know there is a dreaded climb back into town and on race day a lot of people are known to walk it. I had already made up my mind I was going to run it. Twice. Right or wrong, in my world any act of weakness must be covered up with double the strength. IronBadass. So that’s exactly what I did. Up the hill, past High Peaks Cyclery and all the way to the Olympic Oval. Again….the powerful presence of the Olympics. And the finish line for Ironman. But I wasn’t done. I turned around, ran right back down that hill, and back up again. I needed that. Don't look now, but Nytro's back in control! I finished the run with a strong mind and body. I share this for all of you who think I am a machine; I am not. I am human. And today, that incident on the bike was a trigger for the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion that has been building. If I had been home, I would have stopped that run right on the side of the road. But I was in Lake Placid and the magic there provided me with the power and energy I knew it would. When I needed it most.

Olympic Ski Jumps

I went to Lake Placid to put an exclamation point on the last 27 weeks of training. Pretty sure I did just that. This journey has been amazing. These are the things I learned just this weekend:

• The darkest moments don’t always happen in the night. Sometimes they happen under the blazing hot sun right on the side of the road for every passing motorist to see!
• If you “fall off your bike” literally or figuratively, do what your parents told you to do and GET BACK ON.
• Free the mind and the legs will follow.
• If I never drink lemon-lime flavored sports drink after July 28^th that will be just fine with me. 

Fourteen days. The hard work is done, but this weekend I got a smack in the head and a reminder that I am human. The Ironman gods got a sneak peek of how it works in my world. My world…powered by an IronMind and IronWill. The next ten days are all that separate me from being back in Lake Placid where I will finish this journey over the course of 140.6 miles. Thank you to those that have supported my efforts and I look forward to seeing many of you in LP!

Whatever it is you are up to, always remember….Do Epic Shit!

REV3 Quassy Race Report

Sunday, June 2, I did my first race of the season – Rev3 Quassy. A 70.3 mile race made up of a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13.1 mile run located on Lake Quassapaug in Middlebury, CT. I signed up for this race a year ago as a tune-up for Ironman Lake Placid. The timing was perfect (8 weeks out from LP) and the course profile was colored with climbing, climbing, and more climbing. Sign. Me. Up.

My best friend, Jolene, was taking a weekend off from being the best Mom/wife in the world, and was going to be my cheering squad, gear hauler, chauffeur, photographer, and moral supporter for the weekend.  I took Friday off from work to get ready. And by get ready I mean haul out the mountain of race gear that had been tucked away since last fall. I had a lot to do to get ready and I barely pulled it off. Thankfully I had already degreased and lubed my trusty steed earlier in the week.

Check out that de-grease job!

I never did get in my run or swim that day, but soon enough, Jolene and I were jamming to the TNT tunez at the Speeding Tahoe Lounge. We arrived at the Crowne Plaza Southbury, most appropriately located on Strongtown Road. Sounds about right… We checked in, confirmed the beds were fit for two queens, and then set out for beer dinner. Pasta with chicken, a side salad, and even the roll….and yes, one beer! Back to the hotel to fret about gear, logistics, my first open water swim, and everything else that was far too late to worry about. Off to bed.

I got up Saturday morning and banged out a short brick – 30 minutes on the bike and a 2 mile run – just to get the travel out of the legs and loosen things up. All went well and I was back at the hotel ready for my shower and a day of pre-race activity just in time for Jolene to be sipping coffee in bed. We drove the bike course. It was hilly for sure, with 4200 feet of vertical gain. Huge props to REV3 for having a course marked so well we navigated it without a map the day before the race. I’m glad we drove the course, as it helped manage the effort race day. We went to Quassy Amusement Park, home base for the race. The park is older and doesn’t have the thrill rides we adrenaline junkies prefer, but they had a wooden roller coaster….and let’s be honest, you can never go wrong with a wooden roller coaster. In fact, the older the better!

Never pass up an opportunity to ride a roller coaster!

I did the practice swim (my first time in the open water this year…in a new wetsuit). I went to athlete check in, got my goodie bag, checked the bike in, and went to the mandatory athlete meeting. It was hot. Really hot. So….it seemed fitting to have an ice cream cone. Everything went smoothly and my pre-race jitters were nowhere to be found. Probably because I was too busy moaning about the pink swim cap… I. Hate. Pink. (But I love P!nk. Let’s not confuse the two.) Back to the hotel for some respite from the sun and an afternoon of staying off my feet. We dined at the hotel, I applied my race tattoos, and settled in early(ish) knowing I had a 5AM alarm.

Race morning…..I was up and in the shower before the alarm went off. Why? Because racers never sleep the night before a big race. Why do I take a shower before a race? I’ll let you in on a little secret…I lube my body head to toe with lotion (it’s the secret to my silky smooth skin!) and that lube serves me well when peeling off my wetsuit! I’m not joking. Plus I have to shave my legs, but I digress…. I had a plain bagel and some applesauce and drove the couple miles to Quassy. Secured a prime parking spot and proceeded to transition. I hadn’t setup a transition area since last fall, so I was indecisive. It was nice to have assigned spots, but they were tight and I was forced to lay things out a bit different than I was used to. I got things situated just in time to get kicked out when transition closed at 6:30. The cannon was going off at 7:00, but my swim wave was at 7:35, so a lot of time for anxiety to build. I ate a CLIFbar and went to the portapotty line. Sorry, but this is a very important pre-race step. Made my way down to the beach and proceeded to get very nervous about the swim while sucking down a caffeinated gel. The swim is the hardest part of the race for me. My approach is simply to manage the swim and begin my race on the bike. While my swim was far from fast, it went better than predicted. I swam steady, focusing on my breathing, technique, and counting buoys. 11 buoys to be exact. I only got clobbered once (many thanks to the dude that swam over me!) and for the most part I was able to have some space of my own on the buoy line. Nothing special to report because the mere fact that I’ve already said the swim went better than I expected is success for me. I hit the beach, stood up, and like every racer immediately glanced at my watch. There staring back at me was a horrible sight – 00:00. Great. I never started my watch. After a long run to transition, I started the switch to the bike. Asked the girl to the left of me what her swim time was (knowing it was close enough to mine because we arrived in transition at the same time) and she also forgot to start her watch. Asked the girl to the right what her time was and she was laughing before I could finish the question because…yup, you guessed it….she forgot to start her watch. Nothing I can do about it, so out of transition I go ahead of my competition. Although I did take my time to make sure I got everything right. My time on the swim was 46:23.

Out on the bike I am immediately happy. For any of you that follow my training (which really means if we’re Facebook friends I bombard you with boring details of my training which you probably care very little about….sorry ‘bout that!), but I love to be on the bike. I spent considerable time training on the biggest hills in Vermont, so the hilly course of Quassy which has a scary reputation, wasn’t of huge concern to me. My plan was to go out and be more conservative than normal. Ride one gear easier and save the legs for the run. It proved to be a winning strategy for me. More on that later. My bike was a bit slower than I had hoped, but I must give credit to the 4200 feet of climbing I had done. Everything went as well as it could have on the bike. I passed so many people. (That’s a foregone conclusion when your swim wave is second to last and you happen to be a sucky swimmer, but a decent biker). So I’m passing people left and right. Well….left only, because USA Triathlon rules say I can only pass on the left, but you don’t care about that. Passing passing passing. Oh how a girl loves to pass boys like they’re standing still. Especially on the hills. Even sweeter on the BIG hills! Very few people passed me on the bike. One guy made a $hitty pass and I wanted to share some words with him, but I just brushed it off. (NO, I didn’t gloat when I buried him at mile 5 on the run. Take that, Bastard Buddy!). I executed a great pacing strategy and nailed my nutrition. It was hot, so hydration was key. Water, Gatorade, and Fig Newtons were my friends out there. 3:20 minutes later I was pulling back into transition, happy to see no bikes from the girls around me.  A change of the shoes, on with my visor and hydration belt, a quick application of sunscreen, and off I went on the run course.

Starting the run…13 miles to go.

There was Jolene, offering up a huge smile and tons of encouragement to fuel my run. 13.1 miles to go. When you get off the bike, you realize just how hot it is. In this case….it’s really hot. And I’ve got 900 feet of climbing to do. The first three miles are flattish, but then come the hills. More hills. And more hills. The only torture I endured out there was at mile 8 when the run course had you go right by the park. Yup, there’s the finish line. And I’ve got 5 miles to go. Not nice, REV3…not nice!!! But the final five miles were flat or downhill, so no more climbing (except for that brutal little hill at mile 12…). The key to managing the run for me was to walk through each aid station and take in as much fluid as I could. One cup of water, a second cup of water, sometimes Gatorade, salt tablets, and two cups of ice down the back of my shirt. There were 11 aid stations on the course. I walked every one of them. This cost me a lot of time, but in the end, managing my nutrition and hydration was critical and I believe it paid huge dividends. Why do I say that? Because my last half iron run was 2:34. This time I ran 2:09! Unbelievably even splits, never slowing down.

Crossing the finish line.

For the first time at this distance, I crossed the finish line with gas in the tank. A lot of gas in the tank. In two previous 70.3 mile races, I was spent. Empty. Couldn’t wait to reach the finish line. This course was by far the hardest I’ve ever raced. I PR’ed by 12 minutes and had tons of gas in the tank. What does that mean? It means I could have raced harder. Next time I will. But on that day on that course with that heat and humidity, I’m pleased. It is the first time I executed according to plan. I nailed every piece. But…I’m never satisfied. I want nothing more than to go out and have my chance again at this distance on a more forgiving course to see what I'm capable of. Sub-6:00 baby! But that’s not in the current plan. This was an important step on my journey to Ironman Lake Placid. The pacing strategy for Lake Placid doesn’t allow for Nytro to put the hammer down. If she does, she’ll likely get a ride in a sag wagon to the medical tent….game over. No thanks. Follow the plan, Nano. Follow. The. Plan.

Post race, Jolene took charge and did everything I needed her to do without having to ask. She met me at the finish line and gave me the best hug. She made sure I had cold water. She ushered me to the timing trailer to get my official time (since I forgot to start my watch). She brought me to the ice baths which I wouldn’t have even known were there. I took off my sneakers and plunged. Fully submerged Penguin Plunge style! Upon plunging, my visor came off and was floating in the bath with me. I looked at her in all seriousness and said, “Where are my sunglasses?” Thinking they had been atop my visor. She just looked at me with a smile and said, “on your face.”  The only response, “oh….” And then the roar of laughter from both of us. She carried my gear. She brought me to food. She made sure I got a shower and proceeded to drive me home. Jolene, you are the best tri-sherpa, a real pro. And more important, you are the best friend a girl could ever have. Thank you for being mine. I. Love. You!

NO and JO

Post Race Plunge

Many thanks also go out to my sponsor, The Tri Shop, from Ann Arbor, MI. Check them out online at www.thetrishop.com for all your swim, bike, and run needs, as well as like them on Facebook at  https://www.facebook.com/#!/TheTriShop?fref=ts. They have the best gear and low prices. In fact, use discount code TTS10 for a 10% discount.  I also need to give many thanks to my teammates at TTS. You guys are supportive, provide much inspiration, and have a special place in my universe. Thank you all.

And lastly, many thanks for Coach Dave for building the plan that got me this far. Your support and encouragement sometimes surpasses my own beliefs. Having been sick for two weeks not once, but twice this winter and spring, I am amazed at my level of fitness. I know 140.6 is a different beast, but I look forward to the rest of the journey.

What did I learn in this race?

•          Trust in the process. Trust in my ability. I anticipated a mediocre performance. I raced a personal best on the hardest course I’ve ever tackled.
•         I will not die on the swim!
•         Even though I had an electronics failure and had no idea what my race time was throughout the race, I paced appropriately based on feel and NAILED IT!
•      Hold back a little to be able to gain a lot. I was a bit conservative on the bike and took my time walking through every aid station on the run, yet I shaved 12 minutes off my previous best HIM and 25 minutes off my last HIM half marathon.
•      My fitness is exactly where it is supposed to be. Despite illness and missing more training than I ever have in a  training season, I am stronger then ever. It’s more about consistency over time than any individual workout.
•          Take in the entire race experience. Even eat ice cream and ride a roller coaster!
•         Get my electronics in order. Start my watch at the beginning of the swim and make sure to zero offset my Joule. Ugh….stupid.
•         Follow the plan. It is built based on performance during training and will lead to a successful race.
•         I could have pushed harder. I ended with too much gas in the tank. Good simulation for Lake Placid. Confirms I can go longer distances at the paces I was working.
•         Nutrition and hydration are game changers. I nailed it at Quassy. I’ve never bonked, but I always get depleted during races out of shear laziness. Here I was deliberate about hydration and nutrition. Water, Gatorade, and salt tablets. Fig Newtons are the bomb!
•          My bike and my run are considerably stronger than my swim. I was 33^rd out of 47 coming out of the swim. Not a surprise to me. But after the bike I was 21^st, and after the run 19^th. That’s a significant improvement. Overall, I finished 108^th out of 270 women. If I can just get my swim in line with my bike and my run, I can work my way out of the top of the mid-pack and into the bottom of the top pack. Yes please!
•         And while it pains me to admit it….the ‘effen pink swim cap had no negative effect on my race. There. I said it.

Power. Performance. Possibilities. Yup…we do that here. Next stop….Lake Placid. 54 days and counting. 

A friend recently shared a mantra a friend had shared with him. Do Epic Shit. I am adding it to my short list of favorites, which also includes Shut Up Legs. It's good to have mantras to help anchor yourself when the going gets tough. DO EPIC SHIT. Yup, makes sense to me…

Nytro Customized Aero Bars!

The Book of Firsts…by Nytro

It’s been a while since I’ve written. Sorry about that. I’ve been busy…what do you want me to say??? Ski season is over, so now I have more time! I’ve had some significant “firsts” in this journey to Ironman, which got me thinking… Here is a rundown. It goes without saying the ultimate first is tackling Ironman. Never done that before!

1.     I got my first all carbon road bike in February. Stared at it in the garage on weekends while loading up the ski gear to head to the mountain. Finally it got nice enough to ride! Bye-bye skis….hellooooo SuperSix! This thing is a dream. It doesn’t replace my beloved P3, but there is a place for it in my training program. More about that later.

2.     I’m running my race wheels on the SuperSix as training wheels. The SS came with crap wheels that weigh a ton and rather than buy decent wheels, why not run the awesome wheels sitting in my basement? Done.

3.     I’ve embraced the social aspect of training. I used to be the girl with her head down, laser beam focus, who didn’t see a thing around her. Not only have I learned to raise my head and take a peek around, I’ve also enjoyed training with other people. Don’t look now, but I’m having fun. Who knew? Warning: If you are participating in my training, that’s cool and I thank you, but its all fun and games until race day.

4.     I have reached the point in Ironman training where I am hungry all the time. I feel like I am eating non-stop. And my jeans are falling off! For the most part, I’m following a healthy diet, but there is plenty of room for some extras. I bought my first jar of Nutella. The tiny little one….I promise! They should call that stuff what it is – CRACK! Just today I ate inhaled an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie the size of a hubcap! It was sooo good. Thanks Erin!!!!

5.     There is milk in my fridge. Huh? Right….I don’t drink milk. I have no use for it. It doesn’t belong in my fridge. But having just unveiled #4, I must confess, I am eating Life cereal by the box. Do you find it ironic that I’ve chosen LIFE of all cereals? What’s the hidden meaning here?!?!? At any rate, I need some milk to mist my cereal.

6.     I’ve discovered an unbelievable group of tri crazies online. I never knew I could find so much inspiration and support from people I’ve never met. So happy to have found the Ironman Lake Placid group, and of course there are my teammates at www.thetrishop.com! These guys rock. Most of them are well into their race seasons and I think everyone who has raced has set a PR, so the bar is set high! Kind of glad I’m not racing against them (see the fine print in item 3).

7.     I rode my bike 70 miles Saturday. That’s the longest ride I’ve ever done. Hey…before that I was only a Half Ironman, so there was no need to be able to cover more than 56 miles. I had trained up to 65. Saturday I rode 70 miles. Sunday I was supposed to ride 70 again, but I only did 68. Call me a failure, I don’t care. I climbed the App Gap….on a bicycle…on a day after I had already thrown down 70 miles. All I can say is thankfully that SuperSix has a compact crank! I’m thinking if I do that climb 1-2 more times, Lake Placid might actually feel FLAT! No???

8.     I got my first professional bike fit on both bikes. If you haven’t gone to see Ian Buchanan at Fit Werx, what are you waiting for? I’ve never felt better on the bike. We made some major changes and in some ways my body is still adjusting, but I can already feel the difference. Check them out at www.fitwerx.com or better yet, make the drive to Waitsfield. So worth it! And if you want a bike fit, let me know….I can save you $25. Yup yup yup… Ian’s the man!

9.     I withdrew from a race for the first time. Yes, you heard correct. I withdrew from a race. It was a C-race at best and Coach Dave was asking me to run it as an Ironman Marathon simulation. Hummm….Ironman marathon pace is much different than open half-marathon pace. The race really put a crimp in my personal plans to get to Connecticut to the MUSE concert and I don’t have confidence in myself that I could follow the plan to not race in a race setting, so I withdrew. I did the 13.1 mile IM race simulation. The night before. On the track. Alone. And proceeded to go to one of the greatest rock concerts ever! Without rushing and with legs well on their way to recovery. Don’t look now, but I think I’m starting to mature as a racer. Long way to go, but taking steps in the right direction.

10. I have branched out a bit in an artistic sense. Girl who loves black bought purple running kicks!!! Hey, that’s a big deal for me considering my last six pairs of sneakers were black.

So there you have my list of first. I have continued to strike a balance between my life and Ironman. I knew there would come a time when I would have to start making even more sacrifices…and that time has come. The training volume is getting really high and aside from work, I feel like the majority of my time is being spent preparing for training, training, eating, recovering from training, sleeping, and realizing I need even more sleep.  I ask for your continued support over the next 75 days. If I decline a social invitation, please understand. If I do come out, but choose to drink water instead of beer, don’t harass me. If I fall asleep while socializing with you, just wipe the drool from my face and cover me up with a blanket!

Seventy-five days….that’s all that’s left. Thank you all for being a part of my journey. These next 75 days are going to be the most critical ones. My #1 goal is to prepare my mind and body to get to the start line on July 28^th, while remaining injury-free and maintaining some semblance of sanity. Although some of you would argue I had none to begin with. Ironman is the BOSS! This journey has been filled with self discovery, success, times when I fell short, and a list of ten “firsts”.   Three-hundred days ago I couldn’t have imagined being where I am now.  What’s your dream? What’s the one thing you think isn’t possible? Here’s the truth….The time is going to pass no matter what….so why not follow your dreams. Work toward something. Look fear in the face and show it whose boss. What are you waiting for? 

Yup, sounds about right to me… I'm hungry. Time for some Life!