So long my adversary and friend...

SWIM:

0430 Alarm
0431 Complain about alarm
0432 Contemplate vomiting
0433 Dad reminds you about alarm
0434 Complain again
0435 Change clothes
0440 Eat bagel with peanut butter and honey
0441 Revisit previous idea of vomiting
0500 Leave for transition
0520 Tell Natasha (my bike) you'll see her soon (hoping it's not a lie)
0540 Get marked with numbers, laugh and say it tickles, volunteer asks, "Is this your first Ironman?" and sheepishly respond "yeah"
0541 Regret telling a complete stranger you never knew your calves were ticklish because no one had ever written on them before
0542 Blush and walk away regretting that Dan witness that entire conversation
0600 Drop off special needs bags and morning gear bag
0615 Regret dropping off gear bag so early, it's the only time of the day your going to miss your long sleeve top
0616 Wander aimlessly
0617 See your heart rate racing in Dan's watch
0625 Make a bathroom strategy - choose the park bathroom all the while knowing either choice is going to be terrible because your barefoot and your shoes are in your morning gear bag, avoid lingering on the idea of public bathroom sans shoes for fear of remembering 0432
0650 Walk very very very very slowly towards the swim start pretending like your moving but avoiding getting in the water at all costs
0652 Secretly mock the announcer on a power trip then envy him that he doesn't have to swim 2.4 miles
Lose all sense of time
Pro Start
Forced into the water after all possible forms of delay have been exhausted
Avoid crying
Deep breath
Find a place to hold onto the dock and wait for the cannon
CANNON, I think I screamed
Wait for the rush
Commence any form of swimming that is a forward motion
10 minutes elapses, CANNON
Fear for your life as the second wave of swimmers surrounds you, get pulled under, sputter, look for kayak, make move for kayak, hold on for dear life
Continue forward motion
Watch middle aged man drop out of the race and envy him
Check watch
Negotiate with yourself to just make it to the red turn around buoy
Tell spiky haired volunteer he's rude for telling you the red buoy is quite far away as you continue to doggie paddle
ARRIVE AT Red Buoy! CELEBRATE!
Try swimming like you practiced, 10 stokes, sight, choke on water.
Renegotiate, 20 strokes, sight, doggie paddle, 20 strokes, choke on water
Talk to very nice boy scouts that keep calling you ma'am and blame it on the swim cap making you look old
20 strokes, sputter, tell boy scouts you're ok
Make it to the final stretch
800 yards to go at about the 2 hour mark
Start making strange noises because no human should ever breaststroke that long
Make a friend with a girl in a kayak that promises to ride in next to you
Listen to her tell you to stroke, 20 strokes, you can hear the announcer
Turn the corner, see the clock 2:15... find the stairs, find the volunteer's hand helping you out
Cry
Get shuttled into transition still processing that you just swam 2.4 miles and really could become an Ironman today...

I'm learning to breathe, I'm learning to crawl...

The hardest part of this blog for me is being honest.

Not only honest with all of you, but with myself.  I promised to share my experiences - those times I am on top of the world and the ones where I can see it crashing down around me.

Breakdown commence:

Athlete check-in was Thursday.  
We got our numbers, bags, timing chips, and the coveted athlete band (our all out access pass to everything Ironman).

NEW GAME: each person that walks by you search frantically for an athlete band then judge their level of fitness (all the time marveling over the fact they will most likely beat me!)




Friday morning - open swim.

If you know what training has been - you know I have spent at least 3, sometimes 4 days a week in the pool.  My first day swimming I could barely swim 25 yards.  I ended the length of the pool grabbing the wall and gasping.  I can't even imagine what kind of idiot the life guard thought I was.
After 8 months, I can hop into the pool and hammer out 2 miles no problem.

But, no one tells you that open water is not pool swimming.  You know there are going to be tons of people.  You know you can't touch the bottom.  You know there are no walls, lines on the floor, or that burning chlorine you have become so used to.  But no one tells you what those first two minutes in the lake will be like - green water you can't see your hands, you tread water, people pull you down, people hit you, and you cannot hear anything but that voice in your head saying, 'you're done.'

I made it to the first buoy and back.  Walked out of the water, saw my dad, and absolutely broke down.  I knew at that moment there was absolutely no way I was going go finish the swim.  I had worked so hard for nothing.
I cried.  In front of everyone, wearing my athlete band and a fancy swim skin -I lost it.
It was these moments in training that I would tell myself that by working through them I would find that mental strength that gives a person the capacity to finish an Ironman.  So, I ripped off my swim skin and swim cap and trudged back into the water.
I made it to the first buoy and back again minus the panic attack but still lacking the glimmer of hope I had been anticipating.

Having a knot in your stomach is nothing compared to the moping and fear that consumed me Friday.
I thought of the army of people supporting me, the family that flew in to cheer me on, my bike sitting in transition ready to go, the months I spent training and none of it gave me the confidence to finish.  I went to sleep that night knowing in the next 12 hours I had to find the tenacity to finish this swim or else...

... the only thing I would leave Texas with was a really cool bag.

Houston, We have a problem...

Oh, hello George Hermann.

A little synopsis of two days hanging out in downtown Houston.

Spent the afternoon hanging out at the Hermann Memorial Park (hint: the Ironman is called the Hermann Memorial Texas Ironman), so I thought I would pay this guy a visit.  Apparently, he fought in the civil war to come home and find his whole family dead.  So, he spent the rest of his life amassing a fortune to donate to the city of Houston.  Hats off to you George.

Then, I headed toward campus hoping to find some good shopping.
I got a haircut, a few new shirts, and a surprise farmer's market.

Hummus and fresh naan for lunch, epic win.
This is absolutely why when travelling I tell people to just get out on foot and explore a place from first person perspective- life is a grand adventure, just jump right in!

And of course we can't be all play.Morning bike ride (hello family who is now here!)...and it was supposed to be 45 min with a 15 min transition run.  It turned into 1:20 since I was terrible lost and a run.  Remember no sense of direction!!!
How else do you reward hard work... a visit to Sprinkles!
I had a salty caramel, but couldn't miss out on these little treats that made me miss the mutts!

Of course - the day came full circle surrounded by people I love, good food, and a little luck in my corner that will hopefully hang on until Saturday.

You Drive Me Crazy

Sunday 3:30 pm (Eastern) - leave Kalamazoo
Monday 3:30 am take 4 hour nap
Monday 1:30 pm (Central) - arrive in Houston

And now I shall provide you with a list of all the lessons we learned on the road today:

1. You can confidently tackle a 17 hour race since you managed to solely entertain yourself for the last 20 in a moving box without padded walls (now if only your bike had cruise control).
2. You will update your resume to include professional karaoke singer (with no genre discretion - if you know at least 3 words in the chorus and find the song entertaining, you will belt it)
3. Your urge to pee eventually trumps your urge to live, and you run into the rest stop with your knife in your pocket, open.  All the time hoping you don't trip and impale yourself or actually see another person because you know that little knife is all for show.
4. Arkansas gas stations have 24 hour fried chicken buffets. (I'm not sure which part of that to emphasize)
5. There is a town in Arkansas called Malvern (everyone at work gets this) AHHHHH! There is no escape!
6. When you are tired and your trunk is full of bike pieces, you can rival Circus de Soliel contortionists to sleep across the front two seats.
7. No one knows you have been wearing those clothes since yesterday morning.
8. Scott Hamilton has a highway named after him outside Little Rock.
9. Absolutely geeking out when "Walking in Memphis" comes on the radio is a given because at one point you drove the outer-belt.
10. You contemplate how stylish blue suede shoes would really be.  Or practical in a temperate climate with all the precipitation.

The good ones start with, "Once upon a time...

Where should we begin?

This is me one year ago - I had everything that ever I wanted.

I was registered for my first Ironman triathlon, planning my dream vacation to Nepal, and spending a long weekend with the man that I have loved since college.

How things change... my Ironman is on May 19, my vacation to Nepal has been cancelled, boyfriend broke his neck in a biking accident and my heart in a relationship accident.

I have seven weeks of vacation, a life in crumbles, and a lot of muck to muddle through.

So, I ask you - will you go on this adventure with me over the next few months?

Will you hop in the car with me and ride to Texas in my attempt to become Iron?

Will you pack up into my Jetta with my two dogs, a tent, and a sense of humor (because I have no sense of direction) to traverse the US on a grand adventure?

I warn you: there will be rehashing, rebuilding, and rediscovering.  I cannot guarantee no tears, but I will promise at least a few good laughs along the way.  

Here I go.  Travelling across America, hoping to be set free.