Why you should always listen and get a second opinion....

I debated on writing this BUT I think this may be valuable to someone out there.

Two weeks ago, I was supposed to have endoscopic sinus surgery to fix a deviated septum amongst other sinus related issues. I've suffered for years with chronic allergy and sinus infections and both have greatly hindered my ability to train for things consistently throughout the years. I always get sick, always, causing large lulls in training...leading to results less than what I want...and domino effect. I found out in April that all of this junk may also be compounding a lot of the auto immune issues I've dealt with over the years as well. I was ANXIOUS to have surgery and try and get this fixed as soon as I could.

So what's my point. Throughout my diagnoses this Spring and through my plan of care with my former ENT, I felt anxious, uneasy, and overall like something wasn't right. She recommended an over 60 day HIGH antibiotic dosage of antibiotics that were already making me sick, and was defiant when I pleaded with her that they were not helping but I were causing other major side effects that were hard to live with. I kept on though and scheduled surgery even after all of it. I was so desperate to get this fixed, I ignored some major red flags even after some very good friends warned me I should get a second opinion. I just wanted closure and to feel better, I'm impatient and I didn't want to wait. 

One final very large red flag came up the day before my procedure and I knew in my heart and my gut at that point that I should NOT proceed with this Dr. So I postponed and scheduled with another recommended ENT.

Today, I had my Consult and I'm rescheduled for surgery on June 9th. But the difference in care, patience knowledge and intelligence I'm receiving now with the new Dr is astounding in comparison. He found 2 new issues that need to be taken care of immediately and was not only reassuring but confident that he can help me. 

My point is, I'm confident had I just pushed on with the previous Dr. I would be sitting here dissatisfied and wishing I had listened to my gut. Medical care, especially surgical procedures no matter how "routine" or "common" are not only expensive but they are scary. These things cost entirely too much to be done without serious thought and consideration. And if you don't have confidence in your Dr, don't do it, it's not worth it. I know my procedure is small potatoes and minor, but this goes for anything, it's your right and your body, don't be afraid to wait and listen, if you feel uneasy, trust it and it's ok to get a second opinion.

I'm so glad I did, and I'm so looking forward to feeling better! 

The day that wasn't Part Deux

So yesterday. Yesterday yesterday yesterday. 

Obviously, the outcome was not what I wanted. Did I have concerns it would end like it did. Sure. I can admit that. I've said it several times yesterday and today. In 2013, God must have been shining down on me bc I had a pretty incident free race for the most part in Cozumel as my first Ironman. Swim was fast, bike was windy, had fun on the run. Last year, I had NO idea that there were even jellyfish out there to be worried about...I had always heard about barracuda. Ignorance was bliss. So last year took me by surprise and I was devastated. I was hyper aware of the risk I took yesterday, but I also had done all that I could to set myself up. I am a planner, and I planned.

I had Benadryl in every bag yesterday. I took 25mg at 5am to head it off. I had bought "Safe Sea" lotion that was supposed to deter them. And when I tell you Kristofor had to tell me to stop when I applied my 4th coat before the race...I continued. So I was prepared. And maybe I was a bit naive to think that I could enter that swim without incident. After all, I had done it in 2013. 

The morning started out uneventful. I slept about 5 hours soundly, but we had slept super well the 2 nights before. I ate a good breakfast, took my medicine, and other than almost forgetting my special needs bags, I got out the door without incident. Even the crazy bus ride was easy. I got to T1 and checked my bike. I made a trip to a secret bathroom and didn't wait in line. It rained on us for a bit but stopped. And we boarded the bus to the swim start. 

It took 2 port o potty trips to get the job done. And when I came out the second time I exclaimed, "with that I'm going to PR today!" I chatted with Alyx and Kristofor and we all walked to the swim chute together. Kristofor left us, and Alyx, myself, RG and Esmeralda all stayed together. And God bless Alyx, we started having a pretty deep conversation (not about triathlon at all) about 10 min to gun time, I started to tear up, and right there she hugged me and we prayed. I love that woman with all my heart. Some people are your people, even if you don't see them much or if you haven't spent that much time together, they are YOUR people. Alyx is my people. And then the gun went off, the line to get in started to move. Girls around me were getting nervous. I saw the water and it looked calm and I told Esmeralda..."LOOK! It's so calm! It's going to be a great day, this is a wonderful day!" And we all started smiling and we got onto the ramp. Michael Lovato gave us a shoutout and Esmeralda and I sat down and scooted into the swim to avoid last year's feet on rocks pitfalls and off we went! I followed Alyx's bright dreadlocks for a few minutes and we all started to break off.

I noticed for a long long time that the current was not in our favor. I felt like I wasn't moving. It was taking forever. The current would stall big time and unlike years before where you rarely touched people, it would stall and big groups would kind of bottle neck and bunch up and you would have to fight and maneuver to get out. I did that 2-3 times in the first part (I have no idea how far). 

My first sting was a big one across the back of my left leg. Behind my knee. And it hurt. And from that point on I was totally and completely aware that the cream didn't work and I was going to be stung. And all I can say is that I swam scared. I was cautious with my movement. Ignorance was not bliss and I began to wonder how long I had until I got the symptoms. And I started to feel kind of stupid. I didn't allow myself to look at my watch and I sure as hell wasn't going to get pulled out, I just focused on one stroke at a time and counting, keeping my heart rate low. When I got stung again it was on my left arm and again, not the tiny sea lice pricks but the big jellyfish...and I saw this one. I saw that MFer. At some point after that I felt a burning in between my chest, which was strange bc I had on a swimskin, but I must've gotten sea lice in my suit bc I definitely had stings there (and those you could see were clearly irritated last night). I got stung for a 3rd time along my right shoulder and neck right before I turned into the chankanaab marina. I saw that one too. The big ones, they were right under the surface of the water. 

When I got out of the water, I ran and started to get ready to get into the shower...except there wasn't one. Yeah, so salt water swim and no showers to shower off the salt. I was not super happy about that but it is what it is. I got into the tent and started pouring cups of water into my bra and into my suit to wash off. And I opened my bag and immediately took 2 little pink Benadryl pills before I got dressed. I chatted with others about how awful the swim was. My time was super slow, actually 41 minutes slower than North Carolina, which is absurd. That's an eternity. Everyone agreed it was awful and were talking about jellyfish and stings and the current. Got all my gear on and headed out of the tent smeared in sunscreen. Unracked Magnolia, headed towards the exit and I was on my way! 

About mile 2 I was finally able to settle in enough to pee...and I know it's gross but man is it more convenient to be able to just go instead of having to stop. I ate my first honey stinger waffle and took a gel too. I didn't eat in transition so I figured 260 calories was warranted. By mile 5 I passed where my race ended last year and I smiled...same ambulance, same place but NOPE. But it was literally a mile or so after when things started to go downhill. My mouth had felt dry and gummy when I was eating but not like the year prior where I was actually swelling. Instead, it was my eyes, and I just felt nauseous and zapped of all energy. Like pedaling through mud. 

So by mile 8ish my eyes were swelling, that's where the jellyfish allergy seemed to hone in this time. And I started to get frustrated. I figured I would wait for the Benadryl from t1 to kick in and I would be fine. Give it a bit Lacy, be patient. Michelle Vesterby (female pro and amazing woman) blew by me on the bike and I was so touched, she yelled "Lacy! keep smiling!!" There she is WINNING the race and she took a second to reach out to me. She is my absolute favorite pro now, I adore her! 

So I got a little jolt and headed down the road, the turn at Punta Sur into the wind came quick and I was surprised early on I didn't need to downshift into the small ring and felt stronger than I had imagined even though I wasn't feeling so hot. The wind on my first lap wasn't as strong as what we had at IMNC and I was handling it well. Sometime in the middle of the windy section, I decided I needed to take more Benadryl. My eyes were still swelling and it had been over an hour, so I reached into my pocket, I had 2 more pills in my empty Base tube (yes I now have meds in Base tubes...), and down the hatch they went. I knew it wouldn't be immediate, and I knew it may be too much too, but I honestly didn't know what to do. Alyx blew by me like a multi colored flash and I was so relieved to see her. She yelled at me to move my ass and she was gone. 

100mg of Benadryl in (125 if you count the pre race one), and I was struggling. My eyes kept getting smaller and more painful, and I was having trouble seeing. I grabbed a water bottle and sprayed my face, maybe the cold water would help. Not much. I made the turn to head back into town, and though my pace picked up with the tailwind, I was feeling worse and worse by the minute. I heard someone ride by me on a scooter and yell my name, I didn't know it at the time, but it was Natalie Lopez watching for her beast of a hubby, Manny. I kept having to get out of aero to stabilize myself, I started to weave on the road and I felt like I couldn't control the bike as well. My hands had gotten tingly. By the last aid station before you hit town, I knew I had to make a decision. When I exited the aid station area, I swerved to stabilize myself and almost crashed into an unassuming guy riding up on my left (he didn't say "on your left"), he cursed at me and I knew. 

Maybe I glossed over it last year, but it was incredibly scary to be taken off the course. 1. I'm in a foreign country. 2. I took an ambulance ride with 3 men that didn't speak English and I had no idea where I was going and NO ONE knew I was off the course, not even officials. 3. I had no money, no phone, no ID. 4. I had to fight with them last year to release me, they wanted to admit me and put me IN the hospital. No one knew where I was. I knew one thing on Sunday, I was NOT going back to the ER in Mexico. In addition, Kris and I were basically here by ourselves this year. I had met RGs sister the day before, and Stephanie Silk was out on the course with their new baby, but really, it is just us. As I continued to feel worse, eyes swelling and feeling like I was losing control, I told myself to make it back to the hotel and I would decide there. But I knew. 

I pulled up to Cozumel Palace and like 8 people were immediately in my face asking what was wrong. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Thank goodness Patty, RGs sister, and my new friend, Sarah, were there. Some girl, I don't recall her name, and I'm sure she meant well, was IN my face. Like IN it. And I'm a BIG personal space person. She invaded my bubble, and was yelling at me about how much time I had and to get back on and go. I could hardly talk. She then started yammering about going to the med tent up the road...which I did NOT want to do, but I started walking with my bike, Patty and Sarah by my side. We went beside the building under a little tent, hid my bike on the side and I was finally able to sit down, and I just cried. Ugly big loud tears. The in your face chick (I'm sure she meant well...but NO.) told me to not let my emotions get to me and at that point I had had it and was THIS close to knocking her teeth out. Thankfully, for her, she stepped away, I think Sarah said something to her or gave her a look. She left shortly after. I don't know how long I sat there, but I finally was able to go up to my room, my race was over. Patty and another angel helped take my stuff and they walked far behind me as I entered the hotel. I didn't want to call attention to myself...I had had enough of that. I got a spare room key and we got in the elevator. They made sure I was ok. I felt absolutely awful, my eyes were slivers and I just wanted to pass out. But I knew I couldn't, eventually people were going to start to wonder about me, and taking a nap was probably not a good idea. 

I called Jody, she answered panicked and I just sobbed, I couldn't even say anything to her. I just cried and cried and that was making my eye situation worse. I told her to post to the tri team, I didn't want to talk or explain. I called Cristina, no answer, so I called Jeremy, no answer. I knew they were following and posting regular updates. I texted my Mom to tell her. I finally got off the floor and showered. Cristina called me back about an hour or so later and I talked to her for a bit. And I sat on the floor for an eternity, just kind of in shock. Again. Imagine that. On the floor in a Cozumel hotel room for the 2nd year in a row, in shock. Shocking. 

About 3:30 the first text message came in from a family member asking if I was ok and where I was. And that got me thinking. I didn't want to say anything on Facebook but I know people were following me and my lack of updates on the tracker, especially after last year...I would be selfish to not let everyone know I was ok. So I posted an update over 3 and a half hours after I had arrived back at the hotel. And then I laid down to cry some more. 

I didn't feel well enough to go out to the course for a long time. I waited until I knew Kris was well into his first run lap to go turn in my chip and get my stuff. I ran into Sarah on my way back to the hotel and told her I would meet her to start looking for my husband. 

Stephanie Silk saw me first, and she looked at me so sad. All I could look at was the precious baby Dax strapped to her chest. She said Doug and Kris were together, and I told her that if she saw them and Kris asked she could tell him I was out, but if he didn't, don't so I could see him as he started lap 2. I had started to head back to the hotel to get a wifi signal when Sarah flagged me down bc he was coming, so I ran back and he told me he knew and was going to finish the marathon hanging out with Doug. They looked like they were having waaaaayyyy to much fun, but I was happy to see them together. 

So I stayed out to cheer. Finally ate a quesadilla and Pedro from the bar made me a strong ass drink at my request. It made me feel incredibly drunk and yucky, so I switched back to water. 

Sarah and I stayed put in our run course spot and chatted for most of the evening. I am so grateful for her. Like so grateful. We had met her and Susan on the plane from Houston, shared a van from Cancun and rode the ferry together and were at the same hotel. She had also done North Carolina and we literally raced right by each other all day. We were destined to meet, and she was a huge bright light to me on Sunday. We laughed and it took some of the sting out. Speaking of sting...

By the time late afternoon rolled around, my eyes had gone down (maybe the 800 ibuprofen and mounds of turmeric I had taken), but as the antihistamines wore off, I had the burns big time where I was stung, most notably in between my boobs. Ouch. 

Kristofor and Doug finished and I headed into the athlete tent bc I still had my band on. We saw Manny and congratulated him on his awesome day. We saw our friend Kate who podiumed last year and she was in rough shape after a tough day out there. We went back to the hotel so Kris could shower and eat, and before I knew it, it was 11:15 and time to go find RG on her last lap to finish.

That experience may call for a separate blog. Wow. As the clock got past midnight, and they announced the finish line would close at 12:46 (race started at 730am, last athlete was in the water at 7:46am...so 17 hours gave them until 12:46am to get it done). About 12:15 I hadn't seen her yet so I started walking down the road, I asked so many people if they had seen a small lady in a red top, "una pequita señora y camisa roja" that's about the extent of what I could say. No one had seen her. By 12:30 I started to jog further and finally saw Manuel Bravo, told him to hurry bc he had time, but he hadn't seen RG. Finally, I saw her. 2 scooters behind her, her sister yelling at her and her boys running on the sidewalk. RG! I yelled "andalé andalé RG fucking GO!" Over and over. She was stone faced and told me she wasn't going to make it. I told her she had 13 minutes and to keep her ass moving that she was going to make it. She had been arguing with Patty otherwise. She started to run at a decent clip but then she would stop and put her hands on her knees. The race officials on the scooters wouldn't let us touch her. She looked totally and completely spent. I yelled again and told her German (her coach) was waiting up for her to finish and to keep going, this is what she had trained for. She had maybe 500 meters to go when she stopped again and then fell to the ground onto her back. When she turned over she started crawling forward. It was like what you see in the movies, no exaggeration. We coaxed her back up and you could hear the finish line and the clock was ticking. Right before she made the turn, her calves cramped and she came up onto her toes in a half turn exorcist style ballerina move and I thought she was going to faint. But she straightened up and headed down the blue carpet as Michael Lovato told her story, she is an Ironman, she crossed the line and collapsed as the medics brought a stretcher (she was cramping and couldn't walk) to take her to the med tent. I panicked when I saw that, had we pushed her too much? But when I got to the finish line area, Patty said she was ok just getting checked out. RG closed out Ironman Cozumel 2016, and if the rumors are true that this race is over, she may be its last official finisher. And what an amazing finish it was. 

So that closes out my triathlon season. Am I sad, yes. I worked harder than I ever have this year, spent money on a coach, traveled to 2 races, one to be cut by 56 miles and then this debacle. I won't ever do an ocean race again. Lesson learned. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me. I don't particularly enjoy throwing money down the drain on DNFs (even though this one was half off...), so I will oblige my body and say no more to anything where I can get stung.

And this may sound bitter, and maybe I should just keep it to myself. But no one knows your body like you. It's super great and positive to say "just keep going" "whatever it takes". But that's not always the case. Had I kept going on Sunday, I am confident I would have seriously hurt myself and someone else. When you can't control what you're doing, you become a hazard not only to yourself but to those around you. We've all been on a course where someone was swerving or blocking or had poor bike handling skills that caused a crash. I love ironman, but it's not worth my life. It was not worth it to end up in the hospital again or end up injuring someone else bc I couldn't maintain control. So if you want to call me a quitter or a pussy or whatever else behind my back or to my face. Do it. You'll lose my respect. And people rarely regain my respect once they lose it. And that's all I'll say about that. That's not passive aggressive, that's me aggressively stating where I stand. And I stand behind my decision Sunday no matter how painful and awful it was. NO ONE wants to make that decision. So if someone for a moment thinks it was something I wanted, you are very mistaken. I would pray no one I coach or care about has to make that decision. But I did. And if you judge me for it that shows your character more than mine. #sorrynotsorry.

So now that that's out there...😬. I'm going to try and remain positive as I head home tomorrow. My birthday is on Thursday and I'm heading home to the Valley on Friday for the weekend. And just like last year, I'll probably throw myself into some crazy trail run or something to try and get my mind off of what happened. That's how I cope and that's likely what I'll need. 

But I'm leaving this island grateful for the friends I've made, the relaxing vacation I've gotten to have with my husband, and the ability to even toe the line at this event. Cristina told me, eventually when you do enough of these things, you're going to have this happen. I've entered close to 50 events from half marathon to Ironman. I've had to cut 2 runs short, I DNSed one very cold race, and I've DNFed 2. There's a lot of truth to that. Not every day is going to be your day, eventually you're going to have bad luck, and sometimes unfortunately you won't always finish. I hate to end a season again this year like that, but I am choosing to think of RGs epic finish as the end to my season. That was one of my happiest moments, that woman worked harder and more consistently than any person I know, she never ever skipped a workout, she was tireless in finishing it all and doing what German and Lori coached her to do. She deserves to be an Ironman and I'm so happy she crossed that line in such epic fashion. 

So I'm out! It's been real and it's been fun and to be honest it's been real fun! And this isn't goodbye...it's just a see ya later. On to the next adventure whatever that may be. 

The End of an Era

Wow!  2 blogs inside of a month...must be a lot going on over here at Team Healey HQ. So we will get right into it...

If you're reading this, you most likely just saw the above announcement about our #epicmerger with Renegade Endurance.  And although we announced this well over a month ago to our tri club, I hadn't yet "let the cat out of the bag" with the whole Facebook/Instagram world.  It's not that I wasn't excited, I just wanted to get through Ironman North Carolina, let the season wind down, and let myself have time to process everything that has been this season and put it on paper.  It was a huge and monumental decision for me. My husband very eloquently put it in a pretty typed letter to the tri club, but ya'll know I always have more to say soo...are you surprised?

So how did we get here?  To this #epicmerger...let's start at the beginning.

2 years ago (and it's actually 2 years ago on the 24th), my life flipped upside down when I left the place where all my fitness journey's began and went out on my own.  It was a super scary time but that's when "Team Healey" was born.

In 2015, we had an amazing triathlon season.  Though we started our club in 2014, we had never opened it up to the public.  It was just a small group of our girls (and a couple guys too), that had run with us over the years that had shown interest in triathlon.  Kristofor and I were always nervous about expanding and "coaching" triathlon, but after no one died and everyone had a good time in 2014, 2015 we were ready to party.  And party we did!  We had a super active club that got together for practices, went to lots of races together, and was growing but tight knit. We had kick ass uniforms and got our first taste of some sponsorships. We had an awesome time! We ended 2015 with a bang and a 2nd place in our division with USAT.  We closed out the year with an awesome party with awards and spinning trophies.  And even though we had announced that we would be moving, we had a plan in place to keep everything going. The enthusiasm was high even as we said our goodbyes in December and headed towards San Antonio.

So we moved.  And all of December, I was busily reaching out to sponsors, building a website (which was so hard to do), trying to create buzz for new San Antonio triathletes, working to start kit designs, etc.  I wasn't working as a trainer much because I hadn't quite found where I was going to land yet. I had lots of time to devote to getting Team Healey Multisport off the ground for 2016.  We opened up registration January 1 and we were off like a rocket!

And then January happened.  And I am going to tell my side of the story because I haven't and well...It's a free country.  January happened.  Another club popped up to take our place in the RGV and it created a really big conflict of interest for a lot of our members.  With USAT rules in place, they couldn't technically be on our team and the new team, there could be situations where people could be disqualified for trying to do so.  Eventually, I had to draw a line in the sand and I had to say "choose." And a lot of our club did.  It was like all of the air was taken out of my balloon.  All the enthusiasm and hope and plans that I had worked super hard for in December to make sure that 2016 Team Healey Multisport was going to go off without a hitch was slowing deflating like one of those inflatable finish lines when the generator runs out of gas.  And it was awful.  I cried so much in January, by the end of the month I almost didn't have any tears left.  Every time I got the call from an athlete that they were going to do the new local team, my heart broke.  What's more heartbreaking?  I understood.

We had moved.  I didn't live in the Valley anymore.  I wasn't there to coach them at the pool or ride my bike next to them.  And many of the athletes we coached were super used to be being there all the time.  I understood the need for many of them to have something local.  But it didn't take the sting out much.  And I had this gut feeling that because the new team and ours would be at a bunch of the same events throughout the year, it would probably make for some awkwardness.  And it did...and I won't go into that.

So in January we lost about 20 of our team members. And it was super sad.  But things always start to turn around.  In February, I also started to meet new people in our new home and started planting seeds for new triathletes. So I got some hope back and we charged into our first event in our snazzy new uniforms, took 3 podiums and we were off like a rocket once again!

Galveston 70.3 came and went, we had an epic day at Ironman Texas, a day that wasn't at Cap Tex Tri, and I think it was sometime after Tri for Old Glory in July when it really started to hit me.  I took a deep look at where I was at with my personal training business, and I took a really hard look at all the time I had been spending doing all things tri club, and I had a bit of an A-Ha! moment.

As much as I love and adore our tri club, and because I love and adore it so much, it takes up a lot of my time; my physical time, and my emotional time.  This year, I did it pretty much on my own as well.  Kristofor has been traveling for work A LOT in 2016.  He's about to hit Hilton Platinum because he's spent like 2 months or more in a hotel.  In the month of October he was home like 5 days... So all of the tri club responsibilities went to me.  And let me tell you, there's a lot of responsibilities if you want to do it right and to right by your athletes.  Running a club is NOT easy. And since my personal training business is my main gig that helps support my family, I had to take a hard look in late July about where I was spending my time. I A-Ha!ed that things hadn't been picking up as much with Personal Training because I had been spending all energy on the tri club.  If that was going to change, I was going to have to make some tough decisions.

So in early August, I grabbed the bull by the horns and decided I needed to stop resting on my laurels and get things really moving with my business.  I found a place to rent, I spent one big weekend painting and getting it all outfitted.  I ordered more equipment from Amazon than I could keep track of, and I opened the doors of Lakefit.  I started putting some serious time into marketing my business, which in my market means, passing out fliers business to business in our county, hanging flyers in neighborhoods, talking to people and networking.  As my roster grew and I started to spend more time at my studio, I realized that balancing both the tri club and hopefully a really full roster of training clients come January 1 would be a stretch.

Kristofor and I started to really look at what we would need to do to make 2017 successful for our team.  2016 had been great;  we had grown our numbers, taken 2 podiums for Ironman Tri club, had several AG National Qualifiers, and things were going well.  We decided that we would just ask everyone what they wanted.  If we were going to be making decisions about what to do, it was important for us to ask our athletes.  They are what make the team a team. Together, we came up with an online survey where everyone could anonymously answer some key questions about what was important to them when it came to the club, their plans and goals for the next season, and what they wanted out of their support system.  Over a week or so, we got a lot of answers, and not all of those answers cam from the surveys. As the feedback rolled in, we knew we needed to make some big decisions.

What we found was that our team was kind of in different places, at a crossroads really.  We had a couple dozen of our team members that were super excited about 2017 and racing as a team, having team uniforms, taking advantage of our coaching services, and were ready for another year.  A few stated they planned to take the next season off to explore and do other things. But we also had several of our members that stated they were ready to move on and explore other team options, not just the local team that was available in the RGV, but as ambassadors for gear and clothing brands, and onto super teams that are run nationally. The sport of triathlon has changed immensely in the last 3-4 years.  When we started in 2014, it was smaller and more intimate club settings that seemed to be "the thing".  As the sport has grown, so has the interest in larger clubs and the attractive sponsor packages they bring to the table.  Going into 2017, there seemed to be a consensus that some of our members were looking to make changes and move on, but there was a healthy number of us that were still excited to move forward as a group.  Our team had definitely changed in the year since we moved, and that was to be expected.  So what was next?

As we started talking about everything that came in on the surveys, we started to think about possible options.  Did we want to try another year and risk having another heartbreaking January as people went their separate ways?  Did we want to sit the next year out and not do a club at all?  Did we need to change our format and go with a different team name that allowed us to be more of a brand? **let's face it...in the Valley it was easy to be Team Healey because we had such a strong relationship and history with most of our athletes...but in the new market we are in, not everyone wants to join a team and wear my husbands last name. ** We had another A-Ha! moment and insert Renegade Endurance.

Renegade Endurance or RE, is a club that we raced with earlier in the season for a Ragnar Relay.  They are a club that runs and operates much like ours does, but they have 5 people helping do all the work instead of one, which is amazing. And we love them.  We love the Renegades! They are awesome.  It was a group that Kristofor and I just gelled with right from the start.  And there's strength in numbers. Couldn't we do so much more if we worked together?  This could be awesome!  So we called Ryan Byers, one of their founders, and we asked what they thought about merging.  A week or so later, we had a long conference call where we went line by line through every part of our clubs.  We compared and contrasted and talked about how it all would work. In the end, it was the perfect fit and the solution we were looking for.  We could still have a club to train with and race with. Kristofor and I would oversee the Central and South Texas Chapter, and I wouldn't have to try and juggle everything all by myself. It was the perfect fit!  All I really wanted was to be able to still support and coach the athletes that wanted to move forward with us, put on camps, have team dinners and enjoy the tight knit camaraderie that we had come to love.  Joining with Renegade Endurance allowed us to have everything we wanted, and I was so relieved we had found our solution.

And I will say this, I love and adore the Renegade spirit the most.  As I've become a part of their message board and got to see what more of their team was doing, I was really really proud.  Because all of their members are really really proud to be Renegades!  They wear their gear to every race, they are 100% devoted to their team, and they are all so supportive of each other.  And that kind of spirit is what keeps a club going for a long time.  It's what grows a team and keeps a club close knit.  I've had a lot of peace in knowing that we are joining hands with a team that has such a strong spirit and love for each other, just like we do with our Team Healey athletes.

So it's the end of an era.  A short one, but also a really important one.  Team Healey Multisport will always hold a special place in my heart.  And I am absolutely going to miss it. Team Healey meant so much to me when it started, and I have so many memories of the 3 seasons as the leader of the pack.  The friendships I've made out of that group are some of the best friendships I have, and I'm excited for this new chapter and where it will take us.

Overall, I can say that 2016 has been a total life changer for me, and its not even over yet.  I learned a lot about myself as a business person and a person this year.  Number one takeaway being, its ok to not be able to do everything.  Lacy last year would have powered through another year not really looking at the big picture and really asking what is the BEST option for everyone.  I don't want to pat myself on the back, but, I think I made a breakthrough. And I'm hopeful that next year I'll be able to balance being the best Personal Trainer/business owner, the best coach to the athletes that trust me with their journeys, and the best Renegade that I can be.  And I might add another big thing to that resume too. Time will tell.

So Team Healey Multisport, over and out.  It's been a wild ride, an experience of a life time, one of the best things I've ever been a part of, and one of my proudest accomplishments.  To any athlete that ever donned our kit, we love you. Thank you for being a part of our team...but more importantly...

#areyourenegade ?

www.renegadeendurance.com

Life and the 84.6 World Championship

7 months ago in a faraway land called Fredericksburg Texas, Charity Brumley proclaimed "that bike course is magic". And from then on we would talk to many about this magical land of bike course amazingness. It was a good story, it really was.

***Scroll down for race recap...but I'm gonna tell the whollleeee story****

So let's start from the beginning. We signed up for IMNC on March 30th. We had been 

looking for a Fall-ish Ironman to do and we had mused over Mont Tremblant and considered Boulder and CDA. As one of my IG friends, Ashley, said, we were always staunchly #neverflorida. So when IM announced it had bought Beach 2 Battleship, we looked at the course and the town and said that was it. Registration paid, condo booked and it became our "A" race for 2016. 

For the first time, we hired a coach to help keep us on track. I, personally, have a bad habit of winging Ironman races. It's not that I intend to do so, it's just that life always gets hectic and I end up having trouble prioritizing. Last year, I was VERY under prepared for Texas. February of 2015, my Dad had major surgery at MD Anderson, we had run team, tri club, and I had a roster of 38 personal training clients.  I was going 6 days a week sometimes 430am-8pm almost every day.  My longest bike was 50 miles, I swam 6x and my longest run was one 10 miler. I quasi-HIIT trained, I would go hard for 2 hours, even on the weekends, and call it good. For Cozumel last year, I had every intention of buckling down and training. Instead, we ended up planning a cross-state move right in the middle of our 20 weeks.  I was closing a business, selling a house, moving into an apartment, and buying another house. Our treadmill was in the living room and I used it like 2x. Then on race day I got stung by jellyfish and I'm allergic and ended up in the ER in Mexico and it was brilliantly tragic and I needed redemption so yes this is a run on sentence but #revenge. I've always relied on my base being strong year to year, since really, since 2013, triathlon wise, I've been going non-stop. I do not recommend this approach...at all.

So Ross Young took us on in late April shortly after my 70.3 PR at Galveston. I had been riding a lot but it was nice to have someone looking over my training and bossing me around. I actually kinda like being bossed around! I don't know what it was about Training Peaks being red or yellow when stuff didn't happen right, but it irked me. I've never "met" Ross personally, although, he's gotten more than one very detailed message from me. But, Ive always had this image of my Kona Qualifying coach waking up in the morning to see my unfinished Training Peaks; a disappointed look on his face and a head shake. THAT was enough to make me try to get in at least 80% of my training. Let's not talk about my logistics riddled swim training...BUT for me, I executed my training plan pretty well. 

In June and July I felt like I was flying. It was all working and clicking, and I felt like that Imagine Dragon's song, "I'm on Top of the World" HEY! But in August, the wheels began to fall off. I had to make the decision to open my own training studio, and it happened lightening fast, keeping my attention elsewhere. AND my foot/Achilles injury from last year reared its ugly head. My Heart Rate was awful Bc I was stressed. So, I listened to Sean McConnells "Running Under Water" 18,000x and I cried, a lot. Also in August, I was in and out of the Dr office 5x....

This year, to date, I've given so much blood, I've been to specialists and I'm currently scheduled to see a neurologist on Nov 7th. Besides an Ironman PR, I vowed this year to get to the bottom of my health issues. I've spent so much time ignoring and rug sweeping, being all "that's totes normal" when it's not. In August, much like in February and March this year, I sat in a lot of Dr Offices. 

So back to training. September started out much better. Things began to line up again. Then on Sept 16th, my husband came home from one of his bazillion work trips this year, and we were thrown another curveball. A, let's call it a project, he's been working on for 3 years was supposed to be all wrapped up at the end of September. It got delayed. By a month. So now it would be a tight squeeze to get to North Carolina, and to make it back in time for him to finish his project. Which is why I'm now in the car for 12 hours the day after an IM. We've gotta get our asses home so he can leave for 2 weeks. It wasn't a deal breaker, but it added an element of stress and strain. 

Then there was a hurricane. On Oct 3rd, I looked and saw Hurricane Matthew barreling towards the East Coast and was decidedly nonplussed. As we did our last long ride and run, our race venue was being pummeled by a Cat 2 storm. Matthew left a lot of the state under water and really hurting for resources.  And again, all I wanted to do was listen to Sean McConnell "Running Under Water" and cry. 

I'll spare the whole sob story, but we tried for a week to get answers about the state of our race. Got nothing.  We heard from and IM official on Monday at 5pm that it was "on as planned", so we got in the car at 7pm and began to drive. We found out the next day while mid Alabama that the bike course was being machetied to 50ish miles. We were sad and angry that no one had communicated with us earlier. The bike course ended up with 56 miles yesterday. So 2.4 miles of swim, 56 mile bike and a marathon. 84.6...the 84.6 World Championships as we called it. It turned from what is usually a bike dominated race to a runners course before our eyes. And since I'm a runner, once my feelings settled, I started having illusions of grandeur and all the sunshine and gumdrops of my upcoming marathon. 

So let's get to race day, shall we?

****Race Day****

Pre-Race

A cold front blew in on Friday night and cooled temps down from the mid 80s to the low 50s. It was still blowing on race morning. I had never done a legit cold triathlon (I DNSed one one time!) but, as we walked a mile to the buses, it was cold. And windy. 

Walk to the Swim Start at Sunrise

We got to the swim start epic early. We shivered on the sidewalk in our half on wetsuits, and listened to some hilariously cray cray Big Sexy peeps tell funny stories. We ate pop tarts and did the port-o-potties unsuccessfully (for me). Finally, the sun came up and we walked on to the beach. I had brought a sweatshirt and a pair of socks to sacrifice to the swim start Gods, and I was so happy I had. It was freezing before the cannon went off, and I was sad to finally let my monkey socks and my Christmas reindeer sweatshirt go. Brrrrrrr.

Let's get in the water ya'll!

Swim

The gun went off but I waited to head towards the arch. It was kind of mumble jumbled, no pace markers like at other races, and everyone seemed all over the place. I finally got into the water around 7:25am, and I was on my way! It was strange. The first 2 buoys you kept to your right, then you swam in a bit, and the rest were to your left. That is way too much logistically for me. I followed feet and got the crap beat out of me. By the time I was ready for the left buoys, I was already over fighting green cap (men) people. So, I swam way far outside.  So far outside that, at one point, I looked over and realized how far away I was and decided I would try and get closer. Mistake. It was just more fight. This was the most aggressive swim I've ever done. I could care less about the damn current, I felt like I was playing roller derby in the water. I swam back out to my safe place, but I was passing people with all the room...so fine. Outside it is. Then all of a sudden, I saw a red buoy (which usually means to turn or signals the end). TONS OF CHEERING PEOPLE! WOW, that was so fast! I'M DONE!!!! Except that was the 70.3 swim start point. It had me so confused, but I figured it out when the buoys kept going. As we turned into the channel, holy crap. It was very narrow, I could feel the wind blowing, it was so choppy and people were all over each other. That last 1000 or so, I played roller derby swim to the best of my ability. I swam over and under and beside people and got my heart rate all jacked up. I just wanted OUT. I have never wanted out so bad. It felt fast, but I knew I was tempting fate by fighting it out with a bunch of green caps. Eventually, I would lose and end up with a missing tooth or a black eye. By the time I climbed the ladder (yes a ladder!), I was so happy to be out of the salt water. I looked at my watch, it said 1:07ish and I was shock and awe amazed! I AM NEVER EVER THAT FAST EVER...*current* (I'm not taking credit, I realize there was a current that helped me on my merry way...). I was excited, and I started running to get my wetsuit stripped off me. Then ahhhhh, into the warm shower to wash the salt off.

T1

Omg it's 50 degrees, windy, I'm wearing an ill fitting bikini bottom and I have to run like .35 miles across a busy road. I realized that people were watching, my bottoms were falling off and the crowd was getting a really pale show they didn't need. I thought to myself "this is my life". Running half naked on a cold day dragging a wetsuit yelling at people "382! 382!" And I almost ran into the men's changing tent. Glamorous, the flossy flossy. As Fergie Ferg once sang.

 I changed my entire outfit and I'm so glad I did. It would have been miserable wet. SO COLD. Bike shorts on, Base Jersey on, arm warmers on. Mouthwash to get the salt out of my mouth. Helmet and gear on, and when I ran to get on Magnolia, I wanted to do a cartwheel Bc there were so many bikes there, which meant my swim was good! 

Bike

I headed out to the mount line and a lady immediately crashed. I felt so so so bad. She couldn't get clipped in, and down she went. As I started down the road, my toes were frozen and I had trouble making my fingers work. After a series of tight crowded turns, we started to climb a scary metal grated bridge. The signs said NO AERO and everyone was going super slow. I had heard stories of people crashing and took extra care to pedal and stay straight. Then the next few miles were straight through town. Best way to describe it, like going down one lane of Tyler or Harrison in Harlingen on a busy day. Or down Culebra in SA at noon on a Saturday. It was a busy road with lots of cross traffic and people were yelling "I've got to get to work." The Police presence was good, but it was crowded and busy. 

We finally did a major turn onto a highway. A highway??? Imagine merging onto Loop 1604. The cops were telling cars NOPE! Gotta stop and let 1,564 bicycles go on the ramp. So hello highway! We were in the left lane too (which is odd) and there were cones separating us from the other lane of 55-70mph traffic. Kind of like taking a bike ride on US 77 from Combes to the King Ranch (for you valley peeps), but not on the frontage road. Overpass climbing and all. 

And it was windy. I was terrified. Weather reports said Saturday we had 20-27mph sustained winds with reported gusts over 36mph. It had been a while since I'd ridden in anything like that. Cones blew over into us and into traffic. People were passing on the left when it was too narrow, and I saw 2 people crash (one of our friends from the RGV, German was sadly in a bad crash, he's thankfully ok). The cross winds were blowing me all over the road, and I just knew, KNEW, I was going to blow into traffic and be under a car. I regretted my race wheels for sure. I have never been more terrified. I heard an ambulance behind me, and our message board has lots of stories of crashes from Saturday.

I finally gave in and dropped into the small ring, put my head down and tried to stay upright. I will tell you, as the cold wind blew and snot rolled down my face, I wiped it on my zebra arm sleeves and thought "what am I doing???", it was definitely the low point of my day. But I continued to snot rocket down the highway. I thought we would never turn around. I saw Kristofor on the way back in. But it looked like everyone on the other side was struggling too (because they were climbing...). I was convinced that there wouldn't even be a tailwind. 

Those Zebra Sleeves though

We did get 11 miles of tailwind glory. And as we headed back into town, we climbed up another amazing metal grated bridge and dismounted downhill onto a caliche/gravel path. We ran in the dirt and rock with our bikes and handed them off. Bike was done.  It should also be noted we went over 5,763 railroad track in 56 miles. Bottles graveyard and debris everywhere. 

I took in zero nutrition beside Gatorade G2 on the entire bike ride. Nothing. I was too terrified to eat. So I didn't. As I handed off my bike, I grabbed a payday from my back pocket and ate it. That's the first thing I had eaten since the pop tart at 630am. It was noon!

T2

Blur. Changed into Janie's Team Healey tank, arm sleeves off, shoes on, visor on and finally my first potty of the day. I started my Garmin way too early. No sunscreen. Whoops! 

Run

I had been so stoked to run, but I knew starting off, I was in a huge calorie deficit. If I didn't eat soon, I would likely bonk. I had used a lot of energy on the bike and my hamstrings felt all cashed out. I knew I could run, but I knew that my dream of a PR marathon was highly unlikely. I was going to have to eat, and I was going to have to sunscreen. So, I decided to settle in around a 9-9:30 min mile and hope for the best. Holy cow, not one mile in, 4 girls from my AG flew by me like I was standing still. I looked down and saw I was going at an 8:40 pace, so wow!. Never saw them again. Couple of miles later, 2 more flew by me. And I was watching these women come back in from lap one like damn Olympians! It was crazy! This one chick was in the teeniest shorts and bra top and was running down Front St like a wild animal. So here I am all like, "I can run kinda good" but I was surrounded by a bunch of Janie and Amanda's running their fresh leg BQ paces. I looked at my HR, and just kept it steady. My race my pace. I knew I had to pace myself and get to food.

 I stopped to eat grapes and a banana. I poured ice in my bra, and I kept my HR as close to 165 as I could. By mile 7 my right foot started to hurt. BAD. And it was taking my Achilles down with it. Funny thing is, my right foot is usually my "good foot". The one Dr Wallace only had to work 1x this season. I've had problems with my feet and Achilles for over a year now. As a runner and coach I know it comes down to some muscle deficiencies that I need to clear up. I'm also very interested in working with someone specifically on my running form. Anyways, my stupid foot. I stopped to stretch at mile 10 and this amazing lady from Big Sexy helped me work through some stretches. I was so grateful! I knew what to do, but she took charge and bossed me and it helped so much. But a couple miles down the road, it was back with a vengeance. At the turn around, I got a bit mopey and wanted to be done. NO goshdarnit! There are pajama pants available in 13 miles! You keep moving forward! So I did. 

I had to stop and stretch my foot almost every mile. I would  stretch, walk for a minute or two then jog, repeat. I kept trying to eat. I was starving! I stopped at the mile 17 port-o-potty and was grateful it wasn't too gross. Highlight of my day was my chat with a 78 year old ironman who said he was going to pace me. I loved him so much and almost almost stayed with him to finish Bc he was just so fun. He had me so inspired. Overall, I just tried to pass the miles one by one. By mile 20, stabbing pain. Mile 21, I finally gave in and said EFF THIS, I can make it be over faster if I just go, it was going to hurt if I walked, it was going to hurt if I ran. So I started running/hobbling and had a nice chat with a police officer. He thought it was fun to pace me with his car. And, sorry Kristofor, I think he was flirting with me. He offered me a ride and said he would take me to the wine bar on Front street. I laughed. It made me feel good, because I felt and smelled horrible. So thanks Mr Officer! By mile 23, I knew I was less than a mile from Front street and the crowds and the cheering. I tried to gun it as much as I could. That all too familiar feeling had arrived. The one where nothing hurts because the adrenaline has started to kick in. I passed the "CYA :)" lady about mile 24. On Front St, a group of ladies asked me if I felt as good as I looked. I said "$&#* NO" very loudly! And before I knew it, down the hill I went and I was in the long winding path to the finisher chute. I saw Tosha taking pictures, and then Mike Reilly said "Lacy Healey, I know I've called you in before, You Are An IRONMAN!" and I smiled and pointed at him. I got my medal and for the first time, I hugged my new pajamas pants! I ate pizza like I hadn't eaten in my entire life, said a lot of F words to Jason.  We took photos with my babies, MiLee and Jr. And It was over. Limping and done. The work was finished. 

Here's looking at you Mike Reilly! 

3rd time he's called my name!

Post Race

Went to dinner last night and caught up with Mark and Tosha! The babies got us candy and teddy bears. And I felt better than I usually do after a race like that.  Likely because it wasn't so hot and I was missing 56 miles of the journey. I even stomached a beer!  As I watched my husband carry sleeping MiLee down the street last night, my heart was happy. 

MiLee and Kristofor after a long day of Ironman-ing

We packed up this morning and headed out of town after an epic brunch and a brief stop at finisher gear. **UPDATE...I'm editing from somewhere in Louisiana and we will be home by this evening**

And my foot hurts and I'm limping. Not sure what to do about that, likely will need to get it checked, but I'll see when I'm home.  I'm making a very quick trip down to the Valley tomorrow and Kristofor is off to Chi-Town for a week, and I'm back to work Wednesday with 4 new clients starting.

So it's been a whirlwind! Course drama and all! We may have only done 56 miles on the bike, but it was brutally hard. It's like Jesus showed us "I'll teach you to second guess my decisions" with all the wind yesterday. And as I said in my post, nothing went as I had planned.

 I can't tell you what would have happened with 56 more miles. Would I have run the same marathon? Not if I had to do 112 miles on no nutrition! No way to know. With my run and swim time, plus doubling the bike time and adding a half hour, I would I have PRed. Though it's doubtful it would have gone that way. Did I feel stronger? Yes! Do I wish I had more in me, absolutely.

 I know with all the uncertainty this last week, my pre race plan really suffered. I got very extremely drunk on Wednesday. I was so overwhelmed with news from home, and the race being changed. But alas, it all is what it is! I had some great moments yesterday! I doubt I will ever top that swim time, and running with a 78 year old made my day. He was so seriously cool! I'll be happy, in my pajama pants with my 84.6 world championship medal around my neck. If I hadn't learned it before, I've definitely learned it now, that no matter what you do, unless training and doing Ironman is your job, it's always going to be a give and take and a push and pull.  Life isn't ever going to stop so you can always get your bike rides and swims in.  There's always going to be times when you have to say "I just can't today"...and I think learning to balance that is what in the end, makes you an Ironman.  It's been said, Ironman is all about managing failures...that goes for training and on race day.  It's about taking the times that are hard and making sure that you come out on the right side, and hopefully, across the finish line.

In closing, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that Wilmington is the coolest town! We loved and adored it there. I could have stayed and eaten all week at all the restaurants, shopped at the shops and taken in the historical aspects of the city. It was so wonderful, the volunteers were wonderful, and it's probably my new favorite non Texas city! I would definitely go back to the town, not sure if to do an Ironman...but I've said that before! 

Sooooo....

Cozumel is in 5 weeks....

I guess to be continued?! Maybe?! Time will tell...

Thanks for cheering me on!

Lacy 

Where am I?

I laid in my bed this morning...ok, this afternoon, knowing that when I got up today, everything was going to hurt. I mean, just laying there, I could feel it.  My calves, my shins, MY FEET, my back, my shoulders, my abs, my butt, MY FEET, my head.  My eyes are puffy and swollen and my nose is stuffy.  Cedar count was the highest it has been in a year yesterday, and all day I was all up in that Mountain Cedar...which is my TOP allergent in nature.  But besides the pain radiating all over my 4'9 .75 inch self, I feel good.  I feel like I got somewhere yesterday.  Somewhere I don't think I've been in a long time.

Flash back to 5 weeks ago, I sat in a hammock outside on our balcony the day after IM Cozumel, feeling about as down in the dumps as I've ever been in my entire life.  I can say this.  I've had to cut marathons short before due to nagging injury/illness or "playing it safe" because I had another bigger event coming up in the proceeding months.  And sure, that sucks.  I read back to a blog I wrote back in November 2012 about having to only do 1/2 at the San Antonio Rock N' Roll.  How sad I was.  But in that case, and in all other cases, I was able to pick myself up, sign up for another marathon 2-3 weeks later, and get it out of my system.  Nothing, and I mean nothing, has ever left me with a bigger void than not being able to finish an Ironman.  Especially when you look back and can say it was totally out of your control.  And what sucks more?  It was at the end of a season.  Today, there was a 140.6 race in Naples Florida (not an "ironman" branded event).  Had I had the monetary means and the timing wasn't awful, I could tell you I would have been there today. But it wasn't in the cards.  The nagging sinking feeling that I didn't get the job done was overwhelming.

Side note:  You can think I'm melodramatic, or whiney, or say to yourself "I wish this chick would shut the eff up about her non Ironman race.", but point is, 1.  you're reading my blog, your choice 2. this is my story and I can tell it if I want to and 3.  well, this may reach someone that has gone through something similar and help...I've read plenty of things that have helped me over the last 5-6 years. So maybe.

Coupled with the fact we got home and immediately moved, it was a lot.  I didn't cry real tears at all in Cozumel.  I would start to get misty and just breathe and move on.  In the plane as we landed in Harlingen, I shed a couple, but basically, that was it.

We got home Wednesday December 2nd at 11pm.  Woke up and I promptly started packing, sold the contents of my studio to Ms. Heather George, continued packing.  Went through the nightmare realization that someone at our lending company dropped the ball and didn't do their job in the 87 days we had to close on our home.  Which started a domino effect.  We were to sign papers remotely for our home on the via a notary familiar with home closings.  But due to the above, we didn't get paperwork until 630PM on Thursday, had to print out 99 pages of home docs myself.  And you know how when you buy a home they lead you through the paperwork page by page as you sign your life away?  Yeah, well, I lead myself through that in front of a clueless (but very nice) notary at the UPS store, made the Overnight FedEx drop by less than an hour.  Went "home".  Woke up, packed a truck, was told at 10am that everything was fine, they had A LOT of our money, and we were  good to go.  Packed 4 dogs and 2 cats into the car.  Hit the road about noon.  Get to Robstown, Texas.  Receive a phone call that the notary missed a stamp on our paperwork (on the 2nd to last page...), they can't close our home, AND the current owner wouldn't release us keys.

So here I am with all I own in my car and in the 26ft box truck behind me driven by my husband.  And I have to call and let him know that as of that moment, we had no where to go.  Apartment had been leased, movers scheduled to unload us.  No keys to the house.  And well, the lady at the title company, she got it.  And by "it" I mean, she got the flood of emotion of several days of build up and disappointment and anxiety about change and moving and life and unstableness and everything I was feeling.  She got it, in about 5 minutes of total unabandoned sobbing with me saying over and over that she had to figure out a way for us to be in that house that night.  And that wasn't even her job (I've since hugged this lady...we're cool now).  About 50 miles from Lakehills, we finally got a call that the owners agreed to let us have ONE key to the house, and the bank called at 7:45pm to let us know they had verbally funded our home loan.  We officially closed that Monday, but man.  That was a kick in the ass. Can I recommend not taking an international vacation, doing an ironman, moving across state and closing on a home in the same week? Yeah.

So here we are 5 weeks later in Lakehills, settled in.  It's been a hustle and bustle of activity since we arrived.  I immediately put up Christmas decor, and we had friends and family galore in and out for the month of December.  Our house felt like a home really quickly this month because we've already made memories in it.  And I love our home.  It's beautiful and quiet and big enough and updated and I have a huge jacuzzi tub with jets and my dishwasher works really good and there's donkeys and deer next door and I love it.  All of it.

And during December, I started running.  Which is new to me, becauseI  really haven't just run in a long long time.  The day after Cozumel, in all my despair, while looking up things to do to redeem myself, and knowing that the trip to Naples Florida was likely not going to happen, I started to look for trail races.  And I found one.  A 100k/50k event in Bandera Texas, not 30 miles from my new home.  And before I ever left Mexico, I had committed to 100k on January 9th.

So in December, I ran.  I ran 7 miles of hills, I ran 8 miles of hills, I ran 5 miles of hills, I ran 14 miles of hills, I would run 3 miles of hill sprints, I ran.  I wasn't Forrest Gump or anything, but I did do a lot of running.  But it was all on the road.  The hills I was running were paved with nice and neat gravel or asphalt.  It would be fun to power up them and then come flying down.  It was nothing like the race I had committed to.  I may have spent the month of December running, but I also spent it reading blogs and reviews of said Bandera 100k.  And well, by late December I had decided that given my month of training only on roads, I would likely be setting myself up for too much by trying to do the 100k.  Given I hadn't done ANY trail running, and well, hadn't run any distance over 14 miles. And since this race was a WANTED to do, not a part of my total 2016 plan of attack (I do usually go into the year with a plan of what races I'm going to do and their relative importance to me...A. Race, B. Race...etc), I figured 100k was probably a little bit of a reach given my novice-ness.

Elevation Profile of Bandera 50k, about 3000Ft of Climbing

So 50k it would be.  But I didn't sign up.

Here's the thing.  To all those around me, and everyone in my life, I know in my heart of hearts that I didn't "fail" at Ironman Cozumel.  I didn't.  It was not my day.  My purpose that day, I have come to believe was to be there for my husband. He needed me that day on the run, I was able to be there, and he finished.  BUT, still, not being able to cross that finish line left me gun shy.  I was afraid to fail.  And the more I read about Bandera, the more I heard about horror stories of it being icy, of it raining and being so slick and dangerous it was the most miserable race ever.  I heard stories of all the DNFs and the DNS', and well, I was scared to fail.  What if I didn't finish it?

So I waited.  I waited until I could see the forecast, know the weather was going to cooperate, and have some sort of confidence that I was going to be able to do it.  And that's a hard thing to admit.  That I was afraid of that.  But I was genuinely afraid of it.

Last Tuesday, I ordered a pair of new Salomon Speedcross 3's on the recommendation of Coach German Madrazo, and on Wednesday, I signed up.

Yesterday morning was cold.  As per usual, I didn't sleep much the night before.  And of course, my foot started hurting.  Damn foot.  It's done so well the last 8 weeks or so, but of course, it started to act up on me a bit after my 5 miler on Tuesday.  We headed out of the house about 6:00am, it was so dark on FM 1283, I think you could see every star.  And I was nervous.  As we wound back into the State Natural Area, the cars lined up, and you could see trail runners of every age shape and size.

Trail running is a unique endurance sport.  Its like the hippie endurance sport if you will.  Triathlon is so "tech-y" with all the gear and the gadgets.  Trail running is so much more laid back and relaxed.  No one has a fancy anything really.  And I had NO clue that yesterday morning we were standing right next to the eventual Overall 2nd place winner who happens to be like a big deal in the sport, NO clue.  It would be like someone standing next to Andy Potts and being like "so."

It was so cold.  40 degrees and the winds yesterday were up to 20mph.  I was so glad Kristofor had decided to run with me, and I was so glad that he had the foresight to grab a couple of beanies to wear as well.  Once my ears were covered, I was much warmer.

Ready to start!

We had to walk a ways up to the 50k start area, and as we milled around in the 10 minutes before the gun went off, we mingled with other Ironman finishers, trail afficianados, and others that looked just as scared as I was.

And then it began.  I had read that the first 10 miles was the worst part with brutal climbs and descents back to back to back.  And it didn't disappoint.  We started climbing immediately.  And what I noticed most within the first mile was the rocks.  It was so rocky.  Every step my ankles would twitch one way or the other. Every step you would get jabbed in the foot with a rock.  And then sometimes the rocks would give way leading you to have to catch yourself as you climb up and up and up.  The views from the first climb were breathtaking. So breathtaking that within the first 2 miles, I was fishing for my phone to take a sunrise photo.

What a View!

Side note:  I had only a couple of goals for this race. 1. To finish 2. To not hurt myself or "burn myself out" so much that I would have to take weeks off to recover.  After all...I do have 2 Ironman's planned for this year, and I'm on a base building bike plan right now, and I'd like to continue to run and see how that goes.  So being stupid and trying to "hurry" was not in the plan.  Taking photos, enjoying the experience and getting a finisher medal was the plan.

Too pretty to not stop

The climbing continued.  And so did the laughing.  The first 6-7 miles of the race, we were packed in to the hills pretty tight in a line of other runners, and the guys behind me were offering up some valuable chatter about their previous jaunts on this course.  I was learning a lot about Bandera trail racing just by listening.  Hearing their stories about how crazy it is at night (I CANNOT IMAGINE DOING THAT AT NIGHT...), how shitty the weather has been before, how the people in the camp site last night were smoking out of the largest bong he had ever seen.  Ya know, good stuff.  I was entertained during those first few ascents and descents to say the least.

Speaking of descents.  Lets talk about going down the hills...that are really like mountains.  I promise they are like mountains.  Normally, I love the downhills.  Who doesn't?  You get to earn the hard work you put in going up the hill.  Except on this race.  Going down was downright scary.  Because, there's steep drop offs on the side of you, and the rocks are loose, and there are rocks, and there's Sotol Cactus (more on that later), and you have to try not to die, and if you fall you might hurt the people behind you and in front of you, and my legs are short and I can't step down as efficiently as some other people.  I didn't like it.  It was not the downhill I liked.  And I think mostly, and I hate to belabor a point.  I didn't trust myself.  Kristofor kept harping on me to "trust my shoes" "trust my feet", but I couldn't.  I sucked at the downhills.  As Kristofor would skip down them from side to side, I was carefully thinking about each step trying not to hurt myself or make a wrong move.  I was scared.  I was scared to not finish.

Ummm. Scary.  

There was no real aid station until mile 10, and by the time we got to it a little over 2 hours into the race, I was starving.  I inhaled 2 pbj squares and drank the nectar of the Gods, Mountain Dew (I promise there is no better during an endurance event), refilled my water bottles and we continued.  The next 5 miles were a little less eventful that the first 10.  Uneventful in that we were actually able to RUN, instead of power hike like we had done much of the first 10 miles.  On these miles we started to separate out from the crowd a bit.  The more experienced had enough juice in their legs after miles 1-10 to start running and making some headway.  Those of us that were bascially 70% spent by the end of those miles did a walk/run combo where you walked up the climbs (there was still climbing...just not as bad), and ran down them (the not bad ones that is).  We struck up conversation with 2 girls that had done a few IMs, we talked at length to a lady who was training for a 5 day Ultra event and was using this as a training day, we shared stories about our lives and our jobs and we talked a lot about our dogs.  And you know what.  It was nice.  It was so nice to be in an event, with no time looming over, just taking the miles one by one.  In fact, I had NOT looked at my watch until mile 14.5 when I really really needed to go to the bathroom and I had no idea what time it was until the dog sitter texted me at 11:15am and I was shocked to have phone service in the hills.  It was so nice to just BE on a race course, not worrying how long it was taking me to get from point A to point B.

By mile 20, everything pretty much hurt.  Knees, feet, ankles, shins, lower back, HIP FLEXORS.  All of it.  As we headed into what is called the 3 Sisters part of the race, the toughest climbs (so they said...) on the last half of the course.  I was starting to get tired.  And then came the Sotol.

There had been Sotol Cactus the whole way, but others had alluded to the fact that there was a part where it just covered the trail and you had no choice but to power through it.  Think of it like a pretty green plant with razor blades on it.  A saw plant if you will.  It will knick you and cut you and make you bleed.  I was wearing thicker tights (I read that this was an issue), so my legs were shielded, but I am so short I encountered another issue.  It was tall up to my face, and a few times it knicked my ears and my cheeks and I was trying to not let it get my hands.  Basically, that stuff sucks.  Cactus sucks.  Running through cactus, sucks.  And the 3 Sisters climb is FULL of pretty views, rocky ascents and descents, and Sotol.  It's everywhere.

Why am I smiling?

Once we came back to the aid station Crossroads, I ran quickly off for a final bathroom stop before our last 5 miles, and then I ate the most amazing DAMN QUESADILLA of my life.  That quesadilla.  Props to Tejas Trails.  That thing, it was so life changing.  So so so clutch.  We headed out to the last part of the course.  4.2 miles to the last aid station, 4.7 from the finish.  Thinking the worst of it is behind us, running comfortably in the surprisingly flat forest area, ready to get it done.

Until.  Well, there's evidently one more climb.  Lucky Peak.  And the ascent wasn't too bad.  I was so lucky to have Kristofor because he helped me up so many steep rocks, waited for me to climb down.  Just like Tough Mudder, sometimes the elements aren't in my 4'9.75" favor. So Lucky Peak.  It's safe to say by that point, I had had it.  We were moving at a 34 minute mile. I was ok climbing, but I can say...AND I have read that others agree, that this is the worst descent of the entire course.  And at mile 30, I was over it.  I didn't have the mental strength as I had earlier in the day nor the physical precision to navigate down as easily (and it wasn't easy for me earlier).  I, for the first time, had to sit or put my hands down to lift myself down the side of the hills, and I was mad.  I yelled "SERIOUSLY BANDERA, REALLY?!", and well, Kristofor told me to stop whining that it was almost over.  And it was, but it still sucked!  We made it to the last aid station, stopped for just a second, we were told we had about .5 miles to the finish and we ran much quicker than we had been going all day all the way into the finisher chute, and we crossed together.

A little over 8 hours of power hiking, climbing, descending, winding our way through the Texas Hill Country.  Definitely not my best 50k time.  But if I'm fair, that was not anything like any of the trail runs I had done before.  Not even close.  Mesquite Fire 50k last year was muddy, but it was flat and not technical in the least.  Lighthouse hill ranch had some steep points, but its steepest pales in comparison to the climbs at Bandera.  And my first ultra could hardly have been called trail.  THIS my friends, THIS was the real deal.  I can now confidently say, after that, I have done a TRAIL run.  If Bandera is trail, then I have a lot to learn before I choose to go further.  And you know what?  I think I'm up for the challenge.  I like the atmosphere and the change of pace.  I also liked that I got 7th in my Age Group.  Not a podium, but I can say I wasn't trying to do that yesterday, obviously.  But I have my medal, and I have my mojo back.

DONE!  And at the OST eating all the food.

I crossed a finish line.  And I feel like I'm in a place where I haven't been in a long time.  I'm comfortable doing me.  It's hard for me to put this in the right words because I would never ever ever want it to be taken the wrong way.  Because I honestly love training and coaching and this last year of going 100mph with everything Team Healey has been some of the best days of my life.  There is nothing like seeing all these people you've coached make their dreams come true.  I love it.  But I lost me.  They say that in order to be a good wife, mother, daughter, friend, coach, etc.  You have to take care of yourself first.  You have to take care of your needs.  When you get on a plane, they say they'll drop oxygen masks and you need to put yours on first.  And I think in some ways this year, I got so busy putting on other peoples masks that I was over here gasping for air. It's such a touchy subject for me to talk about because I'm not resentful or regretful, I've loved doing it.  But I know I couldn't have gone at that pace forever and done the job that I wanted to do.  I want to do the absolute BEST I can do for those that love and trust me with their goals and dreams.  And I don't believe I was doing my best towards the end, because I had so much going on.  And I definitely couldn't do the best for me in all that, because my needs and training weren't getting done how I wanted them.

So I'm in a place where I haven't been in a while.  I'm being a little stingy.  A little selfish.  And I don't like that word, but I don't know what else to call it.  I'm trying to take care of me a little bit before I make any big moves or decisions on what I'm going to do next with my business and my life.  I'm excited to start training some ladies in San Antonio at the end of the month.  And I'm excited to do a 5k with my client Lindsy next Sunday.  I'm trying a little harder to be more appreciative of all the things my husband does for us (like works a job so I can have the luxury of taking my time getting all set up), and I'm trying to really put a lot into learning more through my CEUs I have due and the triathlon training I'm helping with.  Instead of racing through it because its just a number on a list of things I have to get done with.  I'm trying to slow down and breathe for a bit.  And I'm still catching up on sleep, and I started using wrinkle cream because I noticed about mid December that I have them, and I started wearing makeup again, and I started blowdrying my hair a little more. And yes it gets lonely, and yes I miss everyone, I miss my Mom and Dad being there all the time, and yes I feel like I'm missing out on fun things that are happening in the RGV when I see stuff on FB, and I'm looking forward to visiting, and I'm still really scared about how everything will end up here for me business-wise, but I'm hopeful.  And I'm still immensely grateful for all the lessons and the learning and the people and the ups and the downs.

And I'm happy that in the quiet of the hills yesterday, I got to spend 8 hours with my husband climbing and laughing and kind of running and just enjoying life and where we are.  And where we are going. Wherever that may be.

Thanks for cheering me on,
Lacy