And it's back to the drawing board...

After almost a year of thinking about it, planning for it, and waiting for it.  Sunday, I ran the Houston Marathon.  If you look back at my posts since last February, I was super open about wanting to do this race.  It was to be my Marathon Mecca.  My first true attempt at a Boston Qualifier.  They say that there are stories galore about how many years people spend trying to chase down their BQ time.  This time last year...I kind of thought "story schmory...I cut off 17 minutes off my time this year...I can do that again."  Well...it's a little easier said than done.  I knew that going into Sunday's race.  I knew that a month ago when I posted my Vegas blog.  

Famed American Marathoner, Deena Kastor said:

"In the Marathon, you really leave a lot to the God's as well.  So we'll see what they have ready for us on the course."

That struck me last year.  Enough that I took the time to write in in the "notes" part of my iPhone.  I've come across it when looked at other things.  And it's always stuck with me.  It is so true.  So true.  26.2 miles is a long way.  Hell, 13.1 miles is a long way.  The body can do lots of crazy things during runs like that.  Especially when you mix in adrenaline.  

The God's had something special planned for the Houston Marathon and Half Marathoners this weekend. Cold, rain, wind...and some special things for me too.

I knew all week that it was going to rain.  No matter how many times my friend Melissa said, "It's not going to rain!"  I knew it would.  It's Houston.  It rains there a lot usually.  It rained when I watched friends run the race a few years ago.  It was going to rain.  I planned the best I could.  I had only run in the rain once.  At 5am, with Amanda, April, and Gina, 4 miles in the thunder.  I bought a lightweight WATER RESISTANT (not the same as waterPROOF...) jacket and hoped for the best.

I slept so well on Saturday night.  2 glasses of wine and I was out by 915pm.  415am came early, but I was rested.  Everything happened as it should.  It was raining.  I didn't eat my normal bagel and pb and banana.  Kris later said that was his only regret, as we both kind of felt hungry at the start.  We loaded a shuttle to the convention center and crowded inside as it misted outside and the wind howled.  

We listened to a church service.  I was so struck last month in Vegas when we didn't pray or sing the National Anthem before the run.  I was relieved to be able to have a little quiet time and listen to a sermon (by a guy about to run the marathon...).  He said a lot as I sat on the floor and stretched.  He said a lot of things to the effect of "WHO ARE YOU DOING THIS FOR?"  "WHAT IS THIS REALLY ABOUT?"  I thought a lot about that, especially in the first 3 miles or so.  It seemed to palpitate in my head over and over.  "WHAT IS THIS ABOUT?"  "WHO are you REALLY doing this for???"

Kristofor left my side at about 630am.  He had to be lined up by 640.  I had until 650am.  I hung out inside and called my teammates Irma and Amanda.  They didn't answer.  I didn't figure they would.  But I waited and looked and looked for them as hundreds shuffled past me outside to their corrals.  When 645 rolled around, I went outside and greeted the cold wind and walked in the dark by myself to Corral B.  It's been a while since Kris and I have run regularly at races together.  But we do usually line up together.  This was the first time I was literally all alone.  I wasn't sad, I was more pensive.  I kept thinking about the "WHO are you REALLY doing this for???" question.  I stood in the mob with the rain coming down.  I listened to a beautiful rendition of the National Anthem (I can always appreciate when someone does it so well I cry...and I did).  And I bowed my head when we prayed.  

I rubbed my hands together because I was cold, and a stranger gave me his gloves to wear because he had an extra pair.  He also told me to NOT throw them away when I got hot.  Which I didn't listen to.  I sure wished I had at mile 18.  Right after the horn blew, it started to really rain.  Drops, not drizzle.  I started with my hood over my head.  One earphone in my ear, and I couldn't tell you what was playing because I wasn't listening.

I spent the first 3 miles looking at the ground.  I didn't want to slip and fall.  And I didn't want to step in a giant puddle and get my feet wet.  I didn't want to be any wetter or colder than I already was.  I also didn't want the rain in my eyes.  I don't remember very much about those 3 miles.  Until I saw my 5k split when I finished, I didn't even know how fast I was going (not very fast...), my watch was under my jacket sleeve.  I didn't even realize until almost mile 4 that I hadn't had water because I had never really looked up.  I was in a complete daze.  About the water stop about mile 4, I snapped out of it.  It had stopped raining, I started listening to my music, and I just started running.  I was happy with how fast I was going.  With all of the rain, I had reconciled that I just wanted to get under 4 hours again.  Even if I beat my time in Austin by seconds, just get under 4.  Forget about all of the rest of it.  I was doing well.  I felt good.

I've told this story umpteen times already.  At mile 13, I saw one of the race security guys looking at me and start jogging a little.  When I crossed the 13.1, I felt a hand on my arm.  He told me I was bleeding. And I was, I was bleeding out of my nose...

***Side Note:  A.  I totally jinxed this.  B.  I should have actually done what I had joked about earlier in the week.  I had been having nosebleeds since we were in Maine for Christmas.  The dry, cold air, mixed in with being next to a wood stove for many hours really messed up my nasal-ness.  I had been having random nosebleeds for 2 weeks.  On Monday when I got to work, the first time I lifted a barbell, my nose started bleeding, and my client Lorena almost puked.  It happened 3 more times until Wednesday when it finally stopped happening.  I joked that I was going to put "lite" tampons in my SPI belt in case it happened on race day so I could sop it up.  I didn't do that.  I figured it was over.  Well, it wasn't.  And I would have given anything to have had a damn tampon at mile 13.

They wouldn't let me run with the blood coming out of my nose.  So I sat at the medic tent closest to where we were and waited until it stopped.  I did argue briefly.  But arguing takes time.  I didn't want to stop.  After what seemed like a few minutes (looking back...I don't know how long it actually was...minutes for sure...), I grabbed my phone out of my pants and texted the first 2 people that had recently texted me.  Renea and Melissa (they are sisters...they happened to be together and at church...)...

I love how matter of fact I was.  My nose was "poring" blood.  I could hardly type my hands were so cold.  When it stopped, I showed the dry kleenex to the people like it was a prized trophy, grabbed kleenex for the road, and took off.  But then....because I had stopped.  I had to pee.  So I did that.  And then at mile 15.5, it started bleeding again.  Didn't stop for as long that time.  But still, sidelined.  I felt like I was sprinting on those miles.  I. Was. Desperate.  

After the mile 15.5 stop.  My legs started to feel the effects of the stop and go.  And I really kind of lost my mojo.  By mile 18.5, I cried a little bit.  Not a lot.  Just a little.  My friend Tanya had said she would be at mile 20.  I had given her a bear hug at mile 7, so I looked forward to seeing SOMEONE I knew.  

When I saw her on the side of the road, and she can attest...all dramatic...I yelled "I've been waiting to see you for like 5 miles."  She ran the last 6 with me.  She had not ever run 6 miles before.  She was also wearing like 80 layers of clothing.  It was cold.  Not THAT cold.  But she was such a trooper.  She would sprint in front of me to grab me water, and she coached me as I stretched about every 1.5 miles, and she took off with me when I would bolt forward trying to make up time.  Most importantly, she was there with me.  And at that point I just really needed someone with me.  So Tanya, for that, I am so grateful.  I just needed a face that I knew.  I hadn't ever been that lonely in a race.  I had heard people say that they got lonely, I hadn't ever felt that.  But I was so lonely.  And cold. And having someone there really made the difference in my finish.  She also was there to take photos of me doing glamorous things like eat sour apple power gel...

I will never eat sour apple power gel again.  Not only was it ONLY 1x caffeine (I prefer 2x caffeine...).  But it was so gross.  Yuck.  Eww.  I don't ever want it again.  Yuck.  

My last 1.5 I really really started picking up the pace.  They say it is all mental.  It is.  It is mental.  It is so effing mental.  I ran under 8 in my last 1.5.  I stopped to stretch for the last time and I took off.  I finished strong across the finish line.  And in the video, again, I had this hazy look on my face (I lost Tanya about .5 out from the finish).  I wasn't crying like San Antonio, I wasn't exuberant like Vegas, I was just there.  I felt almost solemn.  

I saw my husband who by the way...

***SIDE NOTE:  My hubby ran a 3:31 marathon.  He bested his best time BY A LOT A LOT A LOT.  He had the race of his life, and I'm so happy for him.  Everything clicked for him on Sunday.  Wind, Rain, perfect temp for him.  He did it.  Tanya told me while we were running when he finished.  I was so proud.  I'm glad he finally got the time he has been wanting!

So I saw Kristofor, I took my picture, and I went inside to get my loot.  My official time says 4:18.  I ran 26.55 miles.  My watch said 4:16ish when I stopped it.  I can't change anything.  I'm fairly confident that had the stops not happened, I would have been a go for a PR.  BUT I can't change it.  That's the way it fell.  That is what, as Deena Kastor said "the God's had ready for me on the course."  So I have to be at peace with that.

Coming to the end of this marathon season, I've learned a lot of valuable lessons.  I ended last year on such a high after Austin.  My sub 4 marathon.  I said last blog, I don't think I ever really appreciated the greatness of that.  I didn't.  I couldn't just be happy for that.  I had to go and try to make it better.  And not only did I want to try to make it better, I wanted to make it better by like 20 minutes.  Which brings me back to what was aching at me for the first 3 miles...

"WHO are you REALLY doing this FOR???"

Maybe I don't know.  I ran the 26.2 miles this weekend in honor of a friend who is bravely kicking cancer's ass.  She inspires me, and when I cried at mile 18.5, I was definitely thinking of her.  I had a picture of the 2 of us over my heart.  So I ran this for her.  

But when I think about that question in the grander sense, the REALLY kind of stumps me.  I do a lot of things for myself.  I do a lot of things for other people (and I'm not saying that in a conceited way...even though it will sound like that in type...).  But WHY am I STILL RUNNING marathons.  Like 3 of them in a row.  WHY?  Am I doing it.  

I know why I started.  I know what got me through last year.  But I'm going to need to mull on that question over the next month or so.  WHY do I do this.  Not a WHY because it sucks to be this sore, or a WHY because the medal is super great, but a bigger WHY.  Am I really doing it for me at all anymore?  I think I have to figure that out, or at least reconcile the real reason with myself if I hope to get better.

"Sometimes the moments that challenge us the most, define us."-Deena Kastor

Thanks for cheering me on,

Lacy

Vegas Baby Vegas!

On my last post, I was coming off the amazing experience of watching my Bod Squadders cross their 13.1 and 26.2 finish lines at San Antonio Rock N' Roll Marathon/Half.  I was also lamenting about my experience having only done 13.1 of my planned 26.2 because to be quite honest...looking back...I was just downright EXHAUSTED from 15 weeks of training ladies and gents.  I just looked back and re-read that blog again.  And in it, I neglected to state one very important detail of the November 11th Marathon weekend.  On our way home.  As we passed the Alamodome heading Southbound, I looked at Kristofor and said....

Let's go to Vegas!  And so this race experience was born!

I turned 30 this weekend!  All year long, I had wanted to spend my 30th in Vegas.  We went for Kris' 30th over 3 years ago...and I wanted to do the same.  I also knew that this year, the Las Vegas Rock N' Roll Marathon was on my birthday weekend.  After several things came up over the year, it became increasingly difficult to plan my birthday trip.  So it had definitely been put on the back burner.  By the time the November 11th weekend had come to a close, all the things that had been in the way of my birthday trip had come and gone...and well....I jumped and decided that Vegas would be in my sights.  We looked at plane tickets and hotel options the whole ride home from SA.  And by the weeks end, we had planned our trip!  I thought about not telling anyone that I was going to race this weekend.  But well...yeah...I got super excited, so for the past couple of weeks, my friends and family have heard me go on and on about what was to be our first "DESTINATION" race in Sin City.

Also, my client Delia, who was my very FIRST client at Bod Squad has been set to do her first half in Vegas for months now.  So I jumped at the chance to also be there for her race weekend as well!  Friday, Delia, Kris and I boarded a plane headed for Vegas and an experience we will all never forget.  As we speak...Delia is still in Vegas enjoying the life of luxury and getting pampered at the Canyon Ranch Spa @ Venetian!  She deserves it...she ran 13.1 miles for the first time last night!  I am so amazingly proud of that woman for setting a goal 11 months ago and attacking it!  She has worked so hard.  She started running back in March doing intervals with our run team.  2 minutes run, 1 minute walk.  And she worked her way up to the half!  So much dedication!  So inspiring.  Congratulations DELIA!!!!

All week long, I had felt good in prep for our trip.  No swollen knees.  No sleepless nights.  I was rested and ready to board that plane!  Delia and I spent the entire 3 hour flight from SA to Vegas talking excitedly about the weekend to come.  Good thing Kris had a book to read...I think he tuned us out!

Delia and I on the plane to VEGAS!

When we touched down, got in our shuttles and headed for our hotels, I literally couldn't have been happier.  I could feel it.  This weekend was going to be one for the books.  As we drove to the Strip, seeing the lights at night, I could hardly contain my excitement to run underneath them 48 hours later.  Most people go to Vegas to gamble.  I am too pinche to be a good gambler.  Mostly, other than the race, I was excited to...EAT?  Carb-loading in Vegas.  Yes please!  Forget the slot machines (ok...I put some money in the slots almost immediately...), take me to the buffet! 

As it happened, this weekend, my longest and dearest friend Jennifer and her husband Graham were also in Sin City!  PERFECTO!  It all worked out perfectly.  Kris and I met up with them later in the evening to do some pre-birthday celebrating at the brand spankin' new Cosmopolitan Hotel where we partook in some interesting fancy schmancy drinks and the boys peed in a urinal next to Lou Ferigno (THE HULK...).  True story.  And he was wearing a tight green shirt.  Go figure.  Celebrity siting numero uno!  We walked around the city on Friday night shopping, drinking, gambling a little and looking at the Christmas decor.  Jenn and I got especially excited when we walked by the Bellagio Fountains, and the iconic water show was being done to a beautiful rendition of 'Oh Holy Night'.  It was magical and it got me all Christmas-ey happy!

Jenn and I in front of the Fountains @ Bellagio

We stayed out until 3:30am Texas time.  Here's a little synopsis (and its short...) of my gambling adventures this weekend.  Put $20 in a slot.  Lost $10.  Cashed out.  Played $10 an hour later...got up to $34.60.  Cashed out.  Added $15 to my stash.  Put $50 on a roulette table.  Played for an hour.  Got up to $85.  Lost all but $25.  Cashed out.  Put $20 in a slot machine at 1:20am.  Got up to $65.  Cashed out.  Went to bed.  Next day.  Played $50 on a Craps table having never ever ever played Craps ever before.  Got a short lesson from the nice people at the Monte Carlo (BET THE PASS LINE!!).  Got up to $80.  Lost back to $54.  Cashed out.  The end.  That's all I gambled.  So I put in roughly $35.  Came out with $54-ish.  FINISHED.  So I won?! Maybe $19.  There may have been another $20 thrown in there somewhere...but the gist is that I didn't really waste my $$ on those evil machines or table games I don't really understand.  Yay. Go ME!  Thanks for all the "WIN BIG" encouragement from all my friends and family.  I won BIG to the tune of less than $20 bucks.  Or I lost $1.  I don't know.

Anyways, Day 2!  MY BIRTHDAY!  We got to head down to the Packet Pickup.  San Antonio Rock N' Roll boasts 23,000 runners.  Vegas had over 35,000.  The Venetian was a zoo.  Kris and I got in, got our stuff.  I bought some Newtons and new headphones and we got out.  It was much the same type of vendors that we had just seen a couple of weeks ago...so we weren't missing out on much.  All day long, I got so many sweet calls and texts and messages from all my friends and family.  My phone almost died like 18 times.  I loved every message!  So thank you all for thinking of me!  When we finally got back to our hotel to get ready for dinner, I had the most beautiful bouquet of flowers sent to me by some amazing girls!  They made our room smell so pretty!  We got ready to head to dinner with Jenn and Graham and my conundrum began.  I have to run a marathon tomorrow.  I cannot walk around in heels.  I cannot get unnecessary blisters.  Boots do not look good with my sparkly dress.  And because I care so much about how cool I look, I figured, what way to look cooler than to wear a super sparkly glitzy dress...with my new running shoes!  The lady in the elevator looked at me and said "your dress is beautiful"  "why are you wearing those shoes".  When I told her...she didn't really understand.  Oh well...I like it!

Newtons and Sequins.  Perfect Combo.

I went to a very fancy Sushi Restaurant in that getup.  Before dinner, we headed into the Minus5 Ice Bar to drink some ridiculously sweet drinks out of ice cups and freeze our butts off.  Jenn and I got matching fur hats to take home as souvenirs.  Not sure when I'll wear my eskimo hat in the Valley.  But it is definitely cute and festive!  Since we partied so late on Friday.  By 11:30...I was nodding off.  So my birthday night ended even before midnight.  I know.  I'm such a raging party animal.  But Sunday was race day!

RACE DAY!  I rather like the late afternoon race start.  We leisurely ate breakfast and got dressed for the day.  We also moved hotels to the Mirage where we would literally finish the race and be able to walk into our hotel (well...not really...but more on that later...).  We got settled in to our new room and I taped my knees up and started getting the ancy-sssss.  As we walked down to the Strip.  It was nuts seeing NO TRAFFIC.  They shut down the entire Las Vegas Blvd for the race.  The finish line was within view of our hotel window.  As we walked across the street to the monorail, I saw them loading the medals onto the stands.  

Kris and I about to board the monorail

When we got to the Start line area, it was huge and almost desolate.  The full marathoners started an hour and a half earlier than the half marathoners.  There were only 3200 registered marathoners (a lot were scared off because of last year's marathon debacle...look it up...it was interesting...).  So there were over 32,000 half marathoners that hadn't started arriving.  Still, they started playing music trying to get the 1,000 or so people that were there riled up.  And it wasn't just any music.  Journey was playing.  Yes.  The Journey.  Sans Steve Perry.  Kris and I fist pumped to 'Worlds Apart'.  It was epic.  Since there were so few people there early...there was also so few port-a-potty lines.  AMAZING!  I didn't have a single bad port-a-potty experience in Vegas.  What I did experience however...was the wind.  Right before the race, Kris looked up the weather.  There was a little "!" in the Vegas forecast.  What did that mean....well....this....

They weren't kidding.  The wind was CRAZY.  And lucky us...we got to run the first 1.5 miles into it. So we get all lined up.  Corral 2.  Windy and ready to go.  There was a hard cut off of 4.5 hours for the marathon finish.  So basically...you finish in 4.5 hours or well...you don't finish.  So unlike a lot of races that we've run where there's a lot of walkers.  We started, and there was very little weaving or slow down.  Everyone started and was moving.  But even before the gun went off, it became immediately apparent to me that something was missing.  And I'll say this...

Every race I've been to in Texas.  Even the little ones.  We always have a benediction of some sort and sing the National Anthem.  At this race.  There was no prayer...and no National Anthem.  I kept waiting for it.  But it never came.  Which was strange to me.  It was definitely missed.

So we started running.  Having just done a 10 miler a week and a half before mostly below 8:30...Kris and I really planned to stay as close to the 3:40 finish group as possible.  We figured we would hang with them as long as possible.  I know Kris can hang with them.  And he said he was going to stay with me the whole time.  So that was the plan.  Until it wasn't the plan.  And the plans changed by about mile 5.  

Sooooo....usually, when I start a marathon, I feel like a horse coming out of a gate.  I have to really try to slow myself down.  In San Antonio, I clocked my first half mile at below a 7 min mile.  I felt like I wasn't moving.  But I was flying.  Yesterday, I got the same feeling.  Like a horse out of a gate.  But going into the wind, I looked at my watch, I was breathing heavy.  And I was at an 8:30.  WHAT THE HELLLLLLLLLLLL.  I hung with it.  Figured "It's just the wind...when we turn around I'll be fine."  Yeah no.  When we turned around at mile 1.5, tailwind behind us, heading down the Strip into the sights and all the people, at 8:30...I was panting.  I held on.  Figured "I'm just riled up, calm down, you do this pace all the time and are fine with it".  About mile 4, I started drifting back, 3:40 pacers were getting a bit ahead.  Kris was in front of me...and when he said about mile 5 that he needed to stop to pee, I thought to myself "THANK THE JESUS...WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE."  I texted Renea.  Told her that this was going to be interesting.  Something was going on with my cardiovascularly, and I was having trouble catching my breath.  A million things (or maybe like five) ran through my head.  When Kris came out of the port-a-potty...I told him that we were going to have to slow down, that I was having trouble keeping my breathing under control.  It's super humid in South Texas.  It's super DRY in Vegas.  The whole high winds thing was drying me out and I felt constantly thirsty even though I had hydrated all day, didn't drink much the night before.  I knew I was hydrated.  But I was just...well...DRY.  By mile 7, I was having fun posing for pictures at every camera guy I saw, but I was a tad bit frustrated.  Not totally melt down ready.  But still a little frustrated.  Not even my music helped pick up my pace.  By mile 8.  Kris turned and looked at me at the water station and said one word.  And I felt like an idiot.  Altitude??.....

Now, I know this.  Las Vegas is only about 2100 feet above sea level.  Harlingen is at sea level.  I ran in Wyoming this summer at over 6000 feet above sea level and felt much the same as I did in Vegas.  Out of breath and not really able to go very quick (for me anyways...) So I don't know if it was the altitude.  Or the wind (which almost lifted me off my feet at one point).  Or the dryness. Or maybe my 20 miler below a 8:45 minute mile back in late October was a fluke??? Whatever...so by mile 8 I knew that I wasn't going to hit a huge PR.  But I was having a good time...so I just went with it.  I didn't look at my Garmin much. I stopped at the water stations...And when we ran through this...

Fremont Street!

I literally lit up like a Christmas Tree.  It was soooooo fun!  They had it all blocked off, we ran right through it with thousands of drunk people cheering for us.  It was AMAZING!!!!  

By the time we got to mile 21, my legs were locking up a bit, and we were running dead into the wind.  This was my conundrum.  I couldn't run my regular pace because I was out of breath and the wind was bad.  But I was running much slower than I was used to so my legs started to fatigue more.  I stopped and stretched a lot that last 5 miles.  And I was so glad that Kristofor was there.  He literally kept me going.  I didn't want to stop...I just was wanting to go so much slower that I was used to.  We passed the 4 hour mark...I didn't even care...I just wanted to be done.  As we rounded the corner to head into the Strip and to the Mirage, there were people everywhere cheering.  They were so close to us...it almost got claustrophobic at points.  I stopped my Garmin at 26.2...and we ended up running close to 26.5 by the time we crossed.  I think our time was about 4:12 ish...about 12 minutes off my Austin pace...and about 3 minutes quicker than last year's San Antonio run.  So right in the middle.  Officially our time was about 4:16...with the extra mileage and literally almost being trapped behind people in a narrow lane for the little extra mileage at the end...we didn't have much of a choice.

AND...I don't really care.  Honestly, I'm cool with it.  This was the first race I've ever done (where I was trying...) that I haven't PRed.  Had to happen sometime.  It's good for me right?  

My pictures are also waaaayyyy better this time. Because I was actually having fun!

After the Finish!

ANDDD!!  As soon as we crossed, I heard someone SCREAMING my name.  I turned around, and my fellow Bod Squadder, Sarah, had just crossed the finish line for the half!  Out of 35,000 runners...we found each other!  I had chills!  She said I was her "carrot" at the end.  She saw my zebra pants and knew she had to keep going even though she was out of gas!  I LOVE that we found each other!  We embraced for a really sweaty...we just ran 13.1/26.2 mile HUG!

Bod Squad Running Team in Vegas!

Sadly...they herded us out of the finisher area like cattle, so there was no possible way I could wait to see Delia finish.  I had gotten her updates though...so I knew she had crossed the 10 mile mark and was pacing well!  

Side note:  That was my least favorite part of the race.  Being herded like a cow, and being unable to exit the finisher area for close to a mile...then having to track all the way back down to our hotel...after running 26.5 miles.  If I give this race one complaint...it was that.  So many people.  Windy.  Narrow area...no where to exit.  People shoving chocolate milk and gatorade at you.  And jamba juice.  No where to exit.  I had a mini attack.  Kris kept telling me to be quiet.  I just wanted OUUUUUTTTT.  Anyways...

I also had gotten not 1, not 10, but FORTY SEVENNNNN text messages from my friends and family.  Seems my timing chip didn't go off at mile 13.1.  Kris' did but not mine.  So for a good while, a lot of the girls thought that I had stopped...until I checked in at mile 20.  So between 13-17, I had a bunch of "where the hell are you"..."whats going on"...."are you ok we are worried"  "call us now please" texts.  And then when the 20 miler checked me in I got a bunch of "thank God you're still going"  "oh my gosh you're back" texts!  Glad to know I'm loved!!  It was awesome seeing all the love when I finally looked at my phone.  And I could feel my phone going off in my SPI belt.  I didn't let myself look at it after mile 5.  But I knew you guys were there!

We headed up to our room, and started to wind down.  And being the party animals that we are.  Everyone said "GO CELEBRATE!!!"  Yeah.  We ate California Pizza Kitchen and were in bed by 1030.  Rockstars.  So wild.  I was tired.  We headed to the airport at 6am this morning for our long day of traveling.  Weekend Destination Marathon. DONE.

I texted several people on Sunday telling them that I was running a mile for them, and the reason why.  I will tell you, that definitely helped me.  I thought I would have to look at my paper to see who was who on what mile...but I actually remembered.  Also, I pledged to run this ENTIRE race in Honor of my good friend Courtney who was diagnosed with cancer a couple of months ago.  She has been a big sister figure to me, and I love her dearly.  She had surgery (successfully!!) this morning, and is recovering.  So I thought about her a lot.  I ran the last 6.2 exclusively for her.  Those are the hardest, so I had to fight the toughest.  So thank you to everyone for the inspiration.  It really did make a difference.  And if you want to know how your mile went...I actually can tell you...because I remember EVERY single one :)!

What's next?  Houston!  January 13th.  I'm going to focus on some speedwork between now and then.  And I've about decided that this may not be my Boston year.  I've had a bit of a rough go, and to be brutally honest, I'm not that focused on it at the moment.  I lost my Boston drive some where between my San Antonio Massacre and Mile 8 of Vegas.  Not that I don't think I can do it.  I think I could if that was the only thing I was working on.  Exclusively.  But I've had a lot of irons in the fire this year.  When I wrote on the wall at Bod Squad in January.  I said I wanted to Boston Qualify, and I wrote "3:40, 26.2"  Now Boston...for my age group is 3:35.  If I can sniff a 3:45 at Houston, I think I'll be proud of myself.  There's always next year.  I know what I have to work on.  And...

To be honest.  I've come to the point now, after having a couple of tough races, where I can really look back at my sub 4 in Austin last February and be so proud of that accomplishment.  I think this year has taught me that THAT really was a great great great race for me.  I think I took it for granted a bit.  I did it and IMMEDIATELY wanted to beat it.  I think as I've gotten further from it, I can take it for what it was...a really strong strong race to be proud of, on a very hilly course.  I can always say I've done a sub 4 marathon.  And I hope to do another one.  But if I don't, whatever the reason may be, I always have that.  

Soooo....That's my story...hope someone made it to the end of this...!  Merry Christmas everyone!  I'll check back in in 2013!

Thanks for cheering me on,

Lacy

There's more to the Marathon than the Miles.

It's been while since I've checked in on my own blog.  I've pretty much left the blogging to my husband  lately, as he has been chronicling his road to Ironman Texas 2013 on his own blog that you can read here...

http://rgvironjourney.blogspot.com/2012/11/hitting-my-taper.html

Anyhow, as many who know us are super aware, Kristofor and I have been busily training over 30 full and half marathoners since about mid August.  I said it Saturday, this has been the BIGGEST undertaking we have taken as a couple to date, and for me personally, its been more of an emotional journey than I anticipated when we started training on a hot August Sunday morning.

So over 30 men and women traveled to San Antonio on Saturday (some Friday), Bod Squad Running Shirts in hand and got ready for the annual Rock N' Roll San Antonio Marathon yesterday morning.  Once again, Texas weather prevailed, and we (for the 2nd year running) were set to have temps in the low 80's with higher heat indexes and humidity for much of the race.  Not optimal.  But the show must go on right?!  From about Thursday morning, until right before bedtime on Saturday night, I'm sure our team members were quite tired of the words KEEP HYDRATING coming at them from various forms of messaging and social media.  Although we had trained in hot conditions here in the Valley, usually we are done by 8am, so relatively early.  Since the race start time was not until 7:30AM, and many of our teammates wouldn't actually start running until around 7:45-8AM, the increasing heat and unrelenting sunshine was of some concern.  Irregardless...here's what happened yesterday...for our team.  I'll tell their story first, because truly, that is what this is really about.

Saturday in San Antonio, from the expo, all the way up into Alamo Heights, I literally couldn't swing my purse without hitting one of our Bod Squad Teammates.  They. Were. Everywhere.
Expo...yup, found about 15 of em' shopping 'til they were dropping.  Whole Foods.  Yup.  Couldn't buy my Justin's Nut Butter in peace because I had clients coming around every corner marveling at the Whole Food Mecca greatness.  It was crazy.  We were everywhere!  It was so neat to see everyone getting their pre race jitters out, and I think a lot of friendships were strengthened this weekend just because of the trip.  Many of our teammates shared rooms and bathrooms for 2 days.  So I can imagine I'm going to hear some stories this week in the studio.  But Saturday, Bod Squad was everywhere.  Ready to run.  Most of the Full Marathoners got together Winter Texan Early to eat dinner before heading to an early bedtime.  I know a bunch of the half marathoners dined together as well.  As we settled in on Saturday night, I could feel the anticipation around us.

4AM Sunday came early, and my phone started going bazerk quickly.  Last minute questions, directions were given,  and some mild panic attacks ensued.  A large group of us made it to the parking lot at the AT&T center to line up for our first team port-a-potty experience.  That was festive, and educational.  And then we loaded buses for the start line, and quickly got in line for the second team port-a-potty experience.  By 6:55AM, we had dozens (literally...dozens!) of black and pink shirts assembling to take our Pre Race Picture at Corral 10.  Here we are...

And that's not even all of us.  I bet there's at least 8 missing!  Nervous energy was all over, not just from our team.  And as we all left each other to go to our respective Corrals, I had an excited gut feeling that by the team these faces would see each other again...nothing would be the same.  I wouldn't be the same.

Fast forward 2ish hours later.  I'm at the finish line, sitting on the curb.  And across the line,  I see our very first finishers, Joe and Judith Moreno, husband and wife power couple, 13.1 done, hand in hand.  These two have trained at the front of the pack with Kristofor for the past 10 weeks, and their commitment to our team and to each other (I have a soft spot for couples that run together...) has been inspiring.  They did every training run side by side.  Fast.  Not but a few moments later, I saw the beautiful fresh faced, didn't look like she had just run 13.1 miles but had very quickly, Monica Benavides.  I hugged her tight.  I was so glad to see our team across the finish line.  I wish I could have seen all of them.  But I felt them all around me. There were just so many people. The race crew literally kicked me out of the finish area FOUR TIMES.  I hid behind a tractor tire and was caught.  When I saw Renea and George, I was met with a confused look (again...more later...), but a big hug and a few tears were shed.  Heather George crossed, and then after a bit of a finish line hiatus (I got kicked out...and a stern warning...), I came back around the gates to watch some more.  I saw Monica and Andrew Torres another running power couple grinding out the 13.1, and Monique Alvarez one of my 5kers from last Spring finishing the Relay.  I got emotional.  Our half team had met their goal. Here are some pictures...wish I had everyone!

Hour 3:40 rolled around.  I had gotten a text that my husband had left mile 20 about 50 minutes before. I figured I'd see him soon.  Not a minute after I checked the time, I see a bright yellow Crazy Legs shirt cross the line.  Alex Jimenez, my Lorena's husband.  I went rogue.  I climbed THROUGH the gates and RAN to him.  I think he was in a bit of a shock.  I joked later that he won for the most "dazed and confused" finish.  Literally, I slapped him on the back and asked "are you ok buddy" and all I got was a "yeah man...yeah man".  It was awesome.  Alex was a first time marathoner, and to blow it out like that in 3:42 is nothing short of amazing.  I was so happy for him.  Renea joined me in our covert op to not get thrown out of the finisher's area, and we waited to see Kristofor cross the finish.  At about 4:07, he did, I knew he must have had a rough mile or 2 there at the end, but I ran to him and one of my favorite pictures ever was taken...

I was sobbing.  He was sweaty.  It was all good.  Candid pictures like these are the absolute best.  Together, Kris and I looked at the updates on my phone tracking the Full Marathon girls that were on the course.  I can't remember being so anxious.  I knew that all of them had crossed the 20 mile mark, but I had no idea what was going to occur in that last 6.2.  No one ever does.  That's where it gets interesting.  So with no clue of where they were in that last 10k, Kris and I settled in to look for the black and pink to come in.  Our friend and Crazy Leg Runner, Artie finished in the meantime, and all 3 Crazy Leggers (Alex, Kris and Art) were all marathon victorious and anxious to talk about the sufferfest heat that they had endured on those 26.2 miles.  

Right after the 5 hour mark, I saw her.  Long black pony tail whipping in the wind.  Determined, "I'm going to eat your ass for breakfast" look on her face.  April, crossing the line.  She grabbed that medal and the look on her face said it all.  She had made that course her BIATCH :).  April balanced all of her training while being a mother of 3 very active kids.  She was not immune to doing training runs in mid afternoon temps (guess that paid off!!) to get it in.  We thought she was crazy for running 10 miles at 2pm in the 98 degree heat.  Turns out she is a genius :).  April is a runner that pushes me and my pace no matter what the distance.  She is scary quick.

Not but a couple days before, she and I talked nervously about her knee pain, how to tape, and what was the best way to get through those miles should things start to hurt.  She didn't let it get her.  She literally FLEW on the first 20, and she finished so strong.  She has some of the most wicked blisters I have EVER seen in my entire life.

We knew who had passed the 20 mile marker and in what order, but again, you never know what that last 10k will do, so it was a crapshoot as to who we could expect next.  I sat anxiously with Renea as we evaded more race officials (more hiding behind the green tractor thing).  And like a good sister, Renea said "I am not leaving until I see my sister cross that line."  She didn't have to wait long.  Because a soaking wet, bombshell in a pink hat crossed next.  Melissa was my most consistent and 100% stick to the plan marathoner.  She literally took every single word I said to heart.  She trained so hard and earned every bit of it.  She is an amazing runner and mother and wife AND trainer.  Couldn't be prouder of her and how far she has come.

We settled in again to play the waiting game.  And we knew Lorena had to be close as she had called her husband Alex from mile 23 with a report.  She felt strong.  When we saw those long legs approaching the finisher barrier, we all stood up...but we let Alex go first to greet his newly crowned marathon wife.  Lorena is a fighter.  She fought me tooth and nail much of the training season.  I use the "fighting" term in as lovingly a way as possible.  "LAST ONE STANDING". She has been my confidant and one of my biggest motivators.  She started her training, learned some lessons, and finished up the 15 weeks definitely as our most improved athlete.  She really really worked on her pace.  She is a wife and mother and a very busy teacher, and she told me she would never do this again.  Until she texted me this morning and said maybe one more time.  Here are her and Alex after she finished....Before she busted out in her "tonight we skate..." move :)

Our girl Melissa, paced and paced waiting for her husband, Miguel who we knew was hurting to finish.  She had talked to him on the phone, he was going to finish, but he was in pain.  That's the thing about marathoners.  You can't really kill us.  Even when we feel like we are going to die....we rarely do.  And our resolve to finish after ALL THAT TRAINING...is immense.  Miguel crossed the finish line into his wife's arms, worse for the wear, but still...marathon finisher...

Our girl Vanessa crossed next.  I told Vanessa before the race.  Do not stop.  I know she was worried.  She had had a couple bad times at half marathons, but I KNEW that she could finish this.  She had it in her this time.  She told me she kept thinking about my "DO NOT STOP" the whole way, which makes me smile because my brainwashing worked :).  Vanessa is a Mom and wife who got her runs in every which way she could.  Treadmill runs, outside runs, runs with her husband, runs with us, runs on her own.  She ran.  In every way she should be able to say now that she is confident as a runner.  Because she got through yesterday and was probably the most bubbly of the group.  And she still went out last night with us.  True Warrior.  Her Marathon was her birthday present!

I'm going to say this before I start talking about Mo.  I think it is absolutely truly amazing that ALL of our 26.2er's and Renea waited for EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US to cross the finish line.  No one left.  We all waited to cheer each other on and hug each other.  That was amazing.  That is a team.  Tired, salty, hungry, having to pee.  We all waited.  THAT IS A TEAM.

Ok, so we waited for Mo.  I get emotional just thinking about it.  Last October when I met this woman, she told me she couldn't run a mile.  And she couldn't.  We went to a heart walk even for the AHA and there, she and I shuffled along a 2 mile stretch.  I remember the feeling of accomplishment I felt that day.  I wasn't a coach yet.  But she was my first pupil.  Here we are on that day...

So 13 months ago, I met a woman who told me that she couldn't run a mile. I ran with her on her first full mile, and yesterday I watched her, and ran her in, as she finished her 26.2 mile.  She is an incredible woman that has the heart of a lion and a spirit in her like no one I've ever met.  She said from the moment she finished her 13.1 that she was going to do this. And she did it with so much strength and courage yesterday, through pain and suffering, she crossed that line.  

Again, Raw emotion, candid photos.  Best thing ever.  This woman is the epitome of "you can do it." 

And I absolutely couldn't be prouder of her and of all of the girls that came and ran the 13.1 and 26.2 this weekend.  We arrived as a team, but we left as a family.  We are all now bonded by those miles we ran yesterday.  We are all going to be a part of each other's memories for life.  And that is an amazing amazing thing.  I've spent a lot of the day thinking about how lucky I am to have been witness to all of these journey's.  Some of these ladies have been with us for a full year this month.  They've run with us pretty much non stop.  When we started the team, we selfishly wanted running buddies.  We have a running family.  Bod Squad trains together.  That is our focus.  We revel in the camaraderie and support we feel from each other regardless of how fast or slow you go.  We had finishers in all time brackets yesterday from sub 2 halfers to 6:50 marathoners.  They are ALL runners.  ALL inspiring.  ALL part of our team.  Every single one of you counts to us.  We are so proud of each of you, your hard work, your commitment, and most of all, the friendship that all of you have shown to each other.  That is what makes me love our team the most.  We are friends.  We do genuinely like each other and respect each other.  So to all of you that finished yesterday.  Congratulations.  You did it.  You are amazing!

**Side Note:  If you don't wanna hear me yack about myself...you can stop here.  The above was a tribute to my girls...the below is my story from yesterday...

As I close, I'm almost reluctant to share my story from yesterday.  I do not in any way want to take away from the amazing accomplishments of my teammates.  They are the ones that deserved the attention and the accolade for pushing through and finishing their goals.  I've gotten several messages via FB and text asking me what happened yesterday.  And for those that aren't here, or who I haven't gotten back to, I'll keep it short....well, as short as I can.

Monday, my knee looked like this...

And that is my good knee that's swollen.  I woke up Saturday AM and felt the discomfort.  I'd not run in almost a week.  Had no clue where it came from.  I sat out practice on Sunday, but by 730AM Monday, this was what I was dealing with.  2 PT's looked at it.  Both said the same thing.  Nothing is wrong with your knee from the looks of it.  Both said the same thing, looked like something in my body was causing the swelling.  I have an auto-immune disorder that causes me some grief from time to time.  Not sure exactly what it is (other than just the thyroid imbalance), but I've had routine flare ups of other weird new not so exciting things the past year.  Trying to figure out what it is, what makes me have flare ups, why I get so tired etc. has been exhausting.  I called my Dr. Monday, and she looked at the pictures I sent her (my eyes were swollen as well...), and agreed that it may be related.  She put me on Prednisone, which I hate because it makes me puffy and I gain weight.  She also told me to look into not eating Gluten anymore.  I get blood taken tomorrow and see her this week, so we will know more then I guess.  By Wednesday, my swelling went down, but on Wednesday AM, I almost threw up in my client Monica's hair, so I spent all Wednesday in bed.  Thursday and Friday I was fine, but I got a little worried when it was clear the weather was not going to cooperate and we would be running in super hot temps.  My other amazing Dr. told me to watch out because the medicine could give me an electrolyte imbalance.  So I chugged water and NUUN all day on Saturday.  I went to bed Saturday night, and woke up at 3AM.  My body was giving me clear signals that it was not ready to run a marathon in the heat.  A little freaked out, I sat on the couch, googled and cried.  And like I posted on Facebook, I told God that I wouldn't run the Full.  

I didn't tell a soul.  I packed my fuel like I always would, did everything the same, played the game, and told no one.  Kris has asked me why I didn't tell him.  I said:

"If I told you I was sick, you wouldn't have let me run at all.  And that would have caused alarm for everyone.  If I ran the 13.1 anyways...you would have been worried then entire time you ran."

So I kept it to myself.  I think he knew though.  In our start corral, I was very solemn.  The pictures they took of me (which are usually horrid anyways...) are awful.  I look like I'm crying.  Because I was....

There were moments where I tried to talk myself out of it.  My pace was fine.  I was right at the 8:30 minute mile that I had wanted to keep.  That was what was hard.  I could do it.  But I knew there was a big big chance that if I pushed past the half...I could get out on the Mission Trail portion of the course, in the unabashed heat, and I could end up seriously risking my health, not of my outsides, but my insides.  And I tell my girls to listen to their bodies.  I am like a broken record with that shit (excuse my language...), so I had to listen to myself.  I cried the whole way.  Mile 2.  Crying.  Mile 5 crying.  Mile 8 when I couldn't find Irma, Crying.  Mile 9 when I saw Noah (Renea's 7 year old) and hugged him and kissed him for what seemed like forever, crying.  And I must have stood in the median between the full and half split mark for MINUTES.  Crying.  Debating.  Crying.  I saw a familiar face from Harlingen and tried to stop crying for a few minutes, and I ran "happily" for a bit, but then when I got far enough away...I cried.  Theres a picture of me crossing the finish line and I am full tilt chin quiver.  I crossed, composed myself to talk to a couple of other Harlingen locals, then I sat down by the big tractor tire that I hid around later, and sobbed.  The race officials kept trying to help me, and I yelled at one to just "GIVE ME A MINUTE."  I took about 10 minutes.  Then I saw Joe and Judith, and I sopped it up.  Because it was time to be a coach.

So what does this mean for me?  I've been wondering it all day.  It can be said that I have other marathons and there are other races.  This is all true.  I've been told that today umpteen million times.  But for me this race was a barometer for how my body would hold up given that I've had a lot of health up and downs since I ran Austin in February (and actually had my first indications that health wise something was amiss...).  I wanted this race not to be an amazing PR but just to be able to cross the line and be able to see that I still had it in me.  I know I do, but my confidence is a little shaken.  Ive wanted to go for a Boston Qualifying time of 3:35 at Houston.  I was trying for a little bit in between this weekend, and that didn't happen.  I'm going to need to do some re-evaluating to see if that's in the cards.  I don't want to start fast and then putter out and bonk at Houston.  

I've reflected a lot today.  I cried some more.  I truly am thankful for this experience, the experience of seeing all of my girls finish, the experience of seeing the confidence in all these women grow.  And I'm going to try and find a way to be thankful for my non-marathon.  I'm going to be thankful for my half marathon and the 13 miles I did run.  Because to be honest, I know I probably shouldn't have even done that.  I've gotta find the silver lining.  There's always a lesson.  

They say when you run a marathon, it changes you forever.  That is so epically true.  You push your body to a point where it will not go normally.  It has nothing to do with the mileage, it has everything to do with the inner struggle to keep going when everything physically tells you to stop.  No one finishes and says they feel great.  Everyone hurts.  But when it's over, and the hurt is done, you can look back and marvel at how the mind and spirit can triumph over the muscles and the bones.  I witnessed so much triumph this weekend.  Even in my little bit of despair, I am going to hold on to that.

TRI-UMPHANT :)

By now, I've already recited my story from Saturday morning at least 8 times.  So in the interest of not annoying my co-workers to death and sounding like a broken record and/or nails on a chalkboard, I figured I'd blog about it instead.  So here's the play by play for those that care to read or know...and as always, if you don't care, there's a super special "x"in the top right hand (left for macs...) corner that you are welcome to click, no hard feelings! :)

So I did my first Olympic distance triathlon!!!!!! Yeah buddy!  And I can say that after Saturday's adventure, I've learned more than a few things about triathlon in general, and I guess about myself as well in the mean time.

I'll say this first.  I wrote a blog here several months ago talking about running and it being such a friendly sport.  I went on ad nauseum about how encouraging other runners can be at races, and I singled out triathlon as a much less friendly sport.  I said this from a place of ignorance, as I stated it having never done a triathlon myself.  I watched as a spectator, and it looked pretty hardcore.  But I will say this, I owe triathlon an apology.  Because this triathlon was friendly.  People all over encouraged me along the way.  So at least in my experience now, I can say that triathlon is also a friendly sport.  I may retract that when I do it again and get run over on the bike or kicked in the face in the swim.  But for now, sorry triathlon.  Keep on being friendly!

So Saturday morning, I approached this just as I would a marathon.  I expected to be turtle slow.  In fact, I planned on it.  And this time at least, I didn't even need to plan, because circumstance ensured that I went slow and steady...more on that in a minute.  But I got up and got out there with very little mega anxiety or stress.  That was a super huge win because stressed out pre race Lacy is no bueno.  However...

My husband was a basket case.  Yes, Kristofor, I'm calling you out.  And he actually called himself out.  He was quite ummmm...fidgety.  He didn't participate, so he couldn't help me set up in the transition area.  But he sure could watch me like a hawk from across the fence-line!  And although I thought it unnecessary to listen intently to pre race directions, he was extremely frustrated with my lack of attention.  Hey, I was having too much fun chatting with Deb and Lisa about the impending swim, food, our outfits, having to pee, etc etc etc.  Much more pressing things.  Directions, schmirections.  He was tense.  Really, it was sweet.  But I was glad he opted to leave before watching me plunge into the water for the first time.  What?  Did you think I was gonna drown or something :)?

So the water.  Loved it.  Loved the heck out of it.  Swim was by far my favorite part.  The part I was least prepared for, but by far my favorite.  I was last in the water.  We could kind of choose when we got in, and RGV Tri Club represented strong at the end of the swim line.  We were the last 4 in the water.  No biggie, it was cool.  I went in last.  Very last.  I didn't swim super off course, I pretty much went buoy to buoy, one stroke at a time.  And I watched the pink swim cap that belonged to Deb in front of me like a hawk.  I tried to stay as close to her as possible.  So thanks Deb for guiding me through my first 1500 meter open water swim!  I never got pummeled by anyone, I did run into a fellow swimmer that had opted to backstroke the remaining 500meters.  That was cool...I think I scared her more than she scared me.  And I wasn't the last one out of the water either.  So that was cool too, since I was last to get in.  I will say this.  I am what I would consider, a relatively strong swimmer.  And by strong, I do NOT mean fast.  By strong I mean rhythmic and measured and pretty much unfazed by my surroundings.  At least so far.  I may change my tune when I have to get in with more people and fight it out, but this time, I felt strong-ish.  I got out and felt great and ready to hit the bike....

The bike.

Mkay so I'll say this now.  Had I not been 3 beers deep and consumed by peer pressure two weeks ago,  and known that this bike course was super hilly.  I probably wouldn't have done it.  Ignorance was for sure bliss.  Because homegirl had never ridden up a hill except for my one 20 minute hill practice that took place last week because Javier suggested it.  And since we live in a place with such vast topography like Harlingen, its super easy to train for monster hills named heartbreak.  Yeah no.  So that was special.  The hills were rolling upwards for the first half of the bike.  I kept my bad language to a minimum, which was amazing, and the first 5 miles or so flew by as I was still pretty exhilarated from the swim.  By mile 6, I hit heartbreak hill.  I did catch the part of the instructions in the AM talking about this monster, and I recalled something about "inexperienced cyclists should dismount" and "no braking and 50mph".  So I did as I was told and dismounted before I would regret it.  I saw one person ride up it...ouch...mind you I was not at the front of the pack with anyone super experienced I gathered...I did after all start the swim 15 minutes or so after the race began...

Yeah it sucked a lot.  Walking in bike shoes up a huge ass hill pushing your bike is not a good time.  And it was super hot and my helmet was melting to my hair (not really but it felt like it).  It hurt.  I didn't like it.  I did not say any bad words.

***Side Note:  I would like to take this time to pat myself on the back personally for my lack of colorful language during this triathlon event.  I was almost a lady.  I think I said the "F-word" like 2x.  And that is like a record.  Because I am known for making sailors blush during sporting events that get hot and/or tiring.  My grandmother could have watched me and wouldn't have wanted to wash my mouth out with soap.  So good job Lacy for not sounding trashy at this event.  Well played.

So I'm at the top of heartbreak hill, and no it didn't go directly down.  It continued to climb just not as steeply. I clipped back into my bike, and well, ya know, a girl is thirsty after walking up a hill in bike shoes pushing her bike in the 145 degree heat.  So I used my magical bike skills and reached down to grab my water bottle to hydrate.  After all, Kristofor said, biking is where you fuel.  So sweet, lets get this fuel coming.  I took a sip.  Heard the familiar sound of an engine coming up behind me, and I got a little startled, and yeah.  Dropped my ONLY water bottle.  And then it was subsequently run over.  I'm pretty sure my first F bomb occurred then.  So here I am at mile 7ish of a 24.5 mile course, and I have no water.  That definitely caused me some concern.  I knew there probably wasn't going to be a fueling station on the course, so I was pretty effed. From that point on, I kind of went into conservation mode.  I didn't want to push myself as hard as I had been because I couldn't hydrate.  In retrospect, I probably should have flagged down another one of our tri club members and asked for a bottle.  I saw them all before I got to the turn around.  But I wasn't thinking.  After the half way point, I totally coasted.  And by coasted, I mean went flying down the hills, and tried to keep my momentum up to go up further without really pedaling too much.  I got up to around 33mph-ish (I couldn't really look at my Garmin...I saw a 3 in front though...) on the downside of heartbreak hill.  I like rollercoasters so that is what it reminded me of!  WEEEEEEEE!!!  By the time I was to mile 22.5 and heading back into the park, I was way past thirsty.  It was Africa hot, and I still had to run 6.2 miles.  In transition, I told Kris what happened, and he suggested I hang around and really hydrate.  So I took my time, drank an entire Gatorade, gu-ed, more water, THEN left on my run...

My run was hot.  And it was on trail???  Not all of it, but a lot of it was on caliche roads, some going up and down.  That was cool.  I poured water all over myself at the water stop.  And then I was super smart and took a wrong turn and added over a quarter mile to my run.  I did not even say a bad word.  Seriously, I have no clue what had come over me.  Kristofor had said when I passed transition, that it was only 2.5 more miles.  That was a total lie.  But I was pacing at about an 8:15 minute mile so I evidently had plenty in the tank post swim+bike.  I passed some of the people that had passed me on the bike.  One guy yelled "I KNEW YOU WOULD PASS ME ON THE RUN, I KNEW IT"  Thanks for the vote of confidence buddy! I doused with more water before I headed out on the out and back uphill for 2 miles, down hill for 2 miles ending to the run course.  And there she was.

**And I'm going to take this moment to say this.  I don't think I'm some super special amazing person for doing what I did.  Lots of people would have done the same.  I would have wanted someone to do it for me.  But this experience definitely impacted my race.  I would do it again.  And if it were one of my girls, I would want someone to help them too.  I do believe in Karma.

At about the 3.1 mile mark, there was a girl about my age on the side of the road, getting sick.  Having a lot of trouble.  There wasn't really anyone around us, and it was pretty damn hot by this point.  So I stopped with her.  Tried to help her with her cramp. Talked to her trying to get her mind off of it, and then I walked with her almost until the turn around at the top of the hill.  So I took at least 15 minutes off of my 10k time for this little detour.  By this point, it really didn't matter.  And I didn't have any sort of time goal...

Alright so I had a little bit of a time goal....

But whatever, it was not that big of a deal anyways.  Approaching the top of the hill, she said she was ok.  I doused with more water, grabbed a cold towel from the volunteer, and then I hit it hard the last 2 miles.  But it was way too little too late.  Even though I was flying (for me anyways) pace wise.  Kristofor was about a half mile out with our dogs to greet me, and I told him that I had stopped for a while.  I don't know if he quite understood how long I had stopped/walked.  It was almost time for awards by the time I came into the finish.  And a lot of the fanfare was over.  I ran through the finish again a few minutes after so that they could snap my picture...

This was my best re-enactment!  So first Tri finished, ready for the next one.  Yes.  I DEFINITELY want to do that again.  One of our other members did this one, and said she wanted some redemption.  And she definitely got redemption this time around, as she did SUPER amazing Saturday (Go Lisa Go!).  And now I want a little redemption of my own....so September 16th, I'll be doing another Olympic @ South Padre Island.

This was an amazing experience for sure, and I couldn't be happier that I did it the way I did it.  Just like when I ran my first marathon, I was cool and calculated about my pace and how I would go, simply because it was my first time.  I'm a huge believer in that your first race is an experience.  Not really a race.  Any time is your best time.  I've been beating that into my girls that are training for their first full.  IT IS NOT A RACE...IT IS AN EXPERIENCE.  Still, I know for anyone competitive, it is difficult to go at it that way.  It was for me, and I allowed myself a full 5 minutes to have a pout session over how not fast I went.  BUT...my 2nd marathon time was over 35 minutes faster than my first marathon.  And although I don't anticipate shaving that much time off, I can hope for an improvement next time.  That's the thing with triathlon.  There are so many ways to improve things.  There's always ways to get better.  And I plan on working on a few things this next month to get better.

So bring it OPEN WATER OCEAN SWIM with sharks and jellyfish and all sorts of things that can eat me.  I'm ready for you!

Thanks for cheering me on,

Lacy

Ready to "Tri" a little :)

Hola everyone!  The last time I checked in, I was in the heat of my "runcation", sitting out from lots of cardio and basically, being as much of a running bum as I could in preparation for marathon season.  And I may have mentioned something about a purchase that I had made as well....

So this is my road bike.  It took me forever and a million years to find one that fit my midget sized body.  It's a 41cm XXS.  It was like a needle in a haystack that my good friend, Javier so diligently helped me search for.

Since it came in the mail in early June-ish...I'm gonna be honest. I was afraid of it.  My first ride on it was at 12:30am post several cocktails.  It was all good.  Then my husband put clips on it...

**Clips are in place of my pedals.  I have special shoes that have a nifty thingy on the bottom of them.  I place my feet on the clips and my feet fasten into my bike.  So I'm biking and physically attached to my bike.  You have to learn to take your feet out.  And put your feet in.  And not eat shit.

So I have clips on my bike and I was scared of it for 3 weeks.  Didn't touch it.  Then one Saturday morning I got up, got brave, and I practiced the art of "clip in clip out" in the safetiness of my culdesac. And I haven't fallen yet.  Thank the Jesus.  I've even gotten much better where I can take one hand off the bike if I need to, and I can stay upright.  I also can now drink water on the bike and grab my bottle and put it back.  And I don't fall over.  So that's a success.

I did a mock sprint triathlon in late June.  I did it after I had only been clipped into my bike once.  I also did it after not swimming a single meter in over a year. Or running in 3 weeks.  I didn't die, but I wasn't super happy with how it went.  So since June, I've been kind of a sitting duck.  I continued to ride with my husband, and I got better, could go further, and felt more confident.  He pushes me and pushes me, then makes me sprint super fast. But I couldn't pull the trigger on signing up for a tri.  Even though I did a sprint and survived.

A week or so ago, I went to a gathering with some of our RGV Tri Club members, and some of the ladies coaxed me into signing up...for an OLYMPIC triathlon.  Not a sprint (usually a short swim, a bike of 10-16 miles, then a 5k run)...instead, I decided to go for...

1500 meter swim (thats almost a mile), 24.5 mile bike...and a 10k.

And I had 2 weeks to train...

Many had joked with me that I would skip the whole sprint triathlon phase and jump straight into the Olympic or Half Iron distance.  Afterall, my first running race EVER was a half marathon.  But I wasn't so sure.  I guess I proved myself wrong.

So the last several days, I've been immersed in swimming, and biking.  And running...Seeing as my full marathon training plan started last week.  I've swam 1500+ meters a couple of times, and Saturday I did a "brick" consisting of a 25 mile bike with a 4.5 mile run.  And I felt good!  I was happy that even in the late morning heat, I could keep an 8:30 minute mile run pace.

Really for me, I've had to go back to the basics.  And really try to channel the feeling I had when I trained for my first Half.  Saturday, when I line up to jump in the water, I will be trying to channel the joy I felt as a beginner runner, and I'll try to be ecstatic with whatever happens, because hey, I just got out there and did it.  No time goals, anything is a PR (personal record) because its my first one.

Kristofor says watching me train has been like watching me as a beginner runner.  I used to have one speed. 10 minute mile.  I could run a 10 minute mile for days.  I am much the same kind of swimmer and cyclist.  I have one speed.  Steady, measured, rhythmed.  I don't much deviate.  I'm sure as I get more comfortable that will change, but for now, I'm happy to get through the swim and bike, then hit the gas when I put my Mizunos on.

I am sure I will update everyone on how it goes as soon as its finished!  So stay tuned.

I want to close with just an observation I've made personally about myself the past few days. My "runcation" I took, honestly, took a lot out of me.  Now that sounds funny because hey, I was resting.  But it was very mentally challenging for me.  It wasn't all my (and by saying "my" I mean my brain) choice to take so much time off.  My body actually decided for me.  I took so much time off because I had been battling some very severe fatigue issues.  Fatigue that I had never dealt with ever in my life.  I've always been a very active person, even before I was so ACTIVE as an athlete and trainer. In late April, I felt like my body put on the brakes.  I couldn't make it through most days without a nap, heat would absolutely exhaust me to the point I'd be sick,  I would run 3 miles and have to stop, I ran in a relay duathlon and almost didn't finish.  I'd not be able to finish a workout with my girls.  Overall, it was probably more mentally taxing than physically taxing.  I started to wonder if I'd get "me" back.  Was it over?  Going to the Dr. gave me a few answers, I've changed a few things dietarily, and I'm now confident that all will be 100% for me soon.

Since getting back from vacation, I've felt much renewed.  Although not 100% back to normal, I can now do my cardio and workouts, and not get so fatigued that I spend all day in bed thereafter.  I'm slowly coming back.  And I feel so relieved.  Like I said, mentally, I started to have doubts.

Last night, I passed by my full length mirror in my bathroom.  The mirror I call the "fat mirror"...we all have one.  And I saw my reflection (yes this is going to sound cheezball...bear with me puleese).  And I saw ME for the first time in a while.  Not the tired, worn out, weak person I had been seeing (or thought I was seeing for the past few months).  I looked strong.  I could see my biceps and my shoulders and my legs looked toned.  And I smiled.  I think we all need to do that sometimes.  We often look in the mirror and we see what we see and dismiss it, or criticize.  I think we deserve, after all the hard work we put in, to marvel at ourselves a bit.  Appreciate what you see in the mirror, what you've worked hard for.  Find something to be proud of.  I did that last night, and it surprised me.  So appreciate what you have, what you've worked for, and if you start to feel disconnected from you and what you've worked for, really take a look at yourself.  You might be surprised :)

Thanks for cheering me on,

Lacy