Chapter Two--the Raging Inferno

Finished. It was a long day for everyone
but totally gratifying. 

Well, another chapter in the Two Ambitious Parents book is complete. Ironman Coeur d'Alene is in the books and a memorable chapter it was. I will apologize now to all of you for my lack of literary skills- so get a cup of coffee or 3, sit down (don't lie down because then you might fall asleep), and share with me in a day that was only made possible by people like you- those who I knew were following along and whom I did not want to disappoint.

We arrived in Coeur d'Alene on Friday morning and quickly realized two things- a) this was some beautiful country and b) that the weathermen were not joking about the heat. In the weeks leading up to the race I had started watching the extended forecast and hoped with everything in me that the talk of 100+ degree temps would be wrong. After getting all checked in and wandering the Ironman Village for a while we made the short journey up the road to our hotel for the weekend.  Getting settled in went quickly and while the pregnant wonder-woman (a.k.a. my wife) laid down for some rest, my sherpa extraordinaire and I headed back down to Lake Coeur d'Alene for an open water swim session.  The lake did not dissappoint- it was by FAR the clearest water I have ventured into in a LONG time.  A short 600 yard swim, while fun, confirmed a lingering worry- the shoulder was still sore. I had not swam for 3 weeks leading up to the race per doctor's instructions and had hoped that would appease the sharp pains that  had brought my swimming and progress with my stroke to an abrupt halt. I consoled myself by hoping that once I put the wetsuit on for the race that it would help hold me together and make things alright. We left the pristine lake and headed back to our hotel for some dinner.

Saturday brought even more heat than the previous day. At this point I knew I had to actually plan on doing what I had talked about and hoped not to have to follow through on. I do not do physically well in heat. For some reason or another I do not sweat as much as I should and have been that way since a child. I turn all bright red and the core temperature rises before any sort of "normal" sweating starts. I was actually scared about racing the next day.  I had only one or two "hot" days that I was able to train in this year.  What was worse was that the last hot day, only a couple weeks before race day ended poorly for me.  I took off work at noon so that I could get out in the heat and go for a 4 hour bike ride.  Two hours into the ride I had to call wonder-woman to come pick me up- the heat had gotten to me. Light-headedness was enough of a warning sign for me that day. Nikki came with the kiddos in tow and two big bottles of ice cold Gatorade. Now back to current day and 100+ degree temps. I knew that if I wanted to have any chance to make it to the finish line that I would have to be very vigilant with my hydration and my Base Performance salt and that my time goals were probably sizzling away. I dropped the bike and gear bags off , headed out for an early supper, and then hit the sack to try to chase some sleep that never did come.

Sunday. Race day. The day I had worked for many months for. The nerves about the shoulder were gone. The nerves about the distance of an IM race were gone. The nerves about the scorching heat were not gone- no matter how hard I tried to focus on other things. I got everything set up, checked and re-checked my bags, and finally got into the wetsuit to await the start of my second Ironman. Nervous energy about the day abounded and I was ready to get the show on the road.

Coeur d'Alene offered a swim split, so here I am
with one lap done and another to go. 

The Swim. I lined up in the 1:30:00 to 1:45:00 group on the beach. I had hoped for faster but with the shoulder I didn't know if I could even hang with that group. Before I knew it, the cannon fired and the pros were in the water. Seemingly only a few short minutes later I was at the water's edge and starting the journey.  The first loop of the swim felt ok. There were a lot of people bunched up but somehow I was able to hang out inside most everyone right along the side of the marker buoys. I noticed the shoulder a few hundred yards into the swim but was able to keep pretty good form despite the pain. Upon arriving at the beach for the completion of my first loop I was ecstatic to see a half-iron swim time over 6 minutes faster than my previous best. I headed back out for my second loop and it didn't take long before the shoulder and arm went numb somehow. The pain was not sharp anymore but I couldn't lift my arm out of the water all the way, instead I had to seemingly half drag it forward. A noticeably slower second loop ended without any further issues and I headed up the beach for the wetsuit strippers. Done. My first "real" Ironman swim (not that I minded Chattanooga's river assisted swim last fall) had been conquered, the shoulder held up, and my time was way better than I had hoped given my circumstances.

The Bike: Part 1. I had high hopes for the bike. I had put in some solid work on the bike this year and

Halfway through the bike--notice the mismatched wheels!

I could tell on my "hard" or race pace workouts that I had gained some ground from the previous years. After a slow transition where I got to experience putting arm coolers onto my wet arms (took at least an hour per arm- ;-) ) I hit up the sunscreen people and jumped on to start the ride. Then things started to go south. Only a few minutes into the race I could tell something was not right with the bike. Whenever I would coast my chain would go slack or fall off entirely.  I stopped numerous times to throw the chain back on and could not figure out what was happening. I finally stopped by some volunteers and asked them if they knew where the race support was. They pointed 20 yards up the road and there was a mechanic. I wheeled up to him and explained my situation. He adjusted the derailleurs and cables and sent me on my way. Again, right away it started acting up.  After a few miles of babying it along and riding the brakes while pedaling downhill in order to keep the chain on I stopped again at an aide station. By chance they had just called a mechanic for someone else so within minutes a different mechanic was there.  I again had the derailleurs, cables, and shifters adjusted and was sent out. Finally at mile 25, while still struggling with the chain staying tight, I saw another mechanic headed the other way. I flagged him down and told my story again. This time they took my rear wheel off, removed the cassette from my wheel, took a spare wheel off the back of their scooter, put my cassette on the wheel, and put their wheel onto my bike. After giving them my name and bib number I was sent off again. Finally. No more issues. Shifting was a little off by now with all the different adjusting, but at least I could go without the chain falling off.

The Bike: Part 2. After the first 25 miles I was finally able to establish a little bit of rhythm and pound out a few miles. The completion of the first loop brought me back into town and to the start of loop 2. By now it was getting HOT. Way more heat than I was used to. My liquids that I carried on the bike where all boiling and difficult to continue to drink because of their temp. I began exchanging bottles at every aide station, even if they were full just in hopes of the new bottles being a bit cooler. The heat was starting to take it's toll on those around me. All of a sudden there were a lot more "slow" people, people stopped along the side of the road, people walking their bikes. I religiously took my Base salt every 5 miles, and took 2-3 times more each time than I ever had in training. By mile 80 I was baked. So hot and so exhausted. A headache had set in and I wheeled into the aid station for some relief. The aid station was out of water. Out of ice. The only thing they had left was lukewarm to hot Gatorade. I got off my bike and leaned over it trying to fight the "I can't do this anymore" demons. The medics asked if I would like a seat in the shade and I obliged. Rider after rider came in and stopped. The medic I spoke with said that the heat coming up off of the asphalt road registered 132 degrees on their gauge. I sat and sat. Volunteers were taking the water from the melted ice that had been sitting in the little pools  to keep the bottles cool and dumping it on people's heads to try and bring some relief. I witnessed a person being loaded into an ambulance on a stretcher and another proclaim he was "done".  After close to 30 minutes I won the battle with myself and decided to at least try to keep going. The rest of the bike was all about making a slow steady progress towards the end.  It was definately not the ride I hoped for, but after a seemingly eternal amount of time I reached the end. I was so tired and hot I don't even remember handing my bike off to a volunteer, I just remember walking towards the changing tent and thinking of what lay ahead.

Fighting the mental battle of the day's extreme
conditions. 

The Run. How can I do this? I can't do this. I am so hot and so exhausted. If I see anymore orange Gatorade I am going to hurl. These where just a few of the thoughts/battles going on in my head as I sat in the changing tent after the bike. I haven't cramped a single time. (You really need to give Base Performance a try if you have not). The headache isn't too bad. I do have 7.5 hours still. I owe it to my friends, my family, and myself to keep going. These are the thoughts that countered the negative. I pulled on my running shoes, stuck a cold wet rag under my cap, filled a bottle with ice water, and headed out. The crowd was amazing. They can all see the name on your bib and soon everyone knows you and is calling you out by name urging you to take that next step. After a mile or so of walking I rounded a corner and saw a guy dressed up as Lucifer- red pitchfork and all standing right in the middle of the road. As I got closer he shouted out "Jason- welcome to Hades!" I laughed and replied "No doubt man" and started running. After another mile I ran into the Base Performance guys set up on course doing their thing. They cheered me on and another mile disappeared. The rest of the marathon brought a mix of walking and running. The temps still soared into the extremely uncomfortable, but resident after resident waited by the streets with sprinklers, hoses, buckets of water, children with squirt guns- all ready to soak you down if you gave them the slightest nod. They saved the race. After 6 miles or so I had been soaked with cold water so many times that I actually started to feel like I wasn't going to burst like an over baked potato. The course was lined with people laying down, people trying to stretch, people throwing up and people looking at watches. I kept on moving and soon knew that the finish line was in fact going to be something I would see- something for the first time in my racing "career" I actually doubted for quite some time. A few more miles and the last turn was made- a seven block stretch straight down to the finish line. Crowds lined both sides of the street and bleachers that had been set up for the final 20 yards of the run were full of screaming people that lent me a charge like none I had experienced. I ran the best I could those last blocks and finally- after the hardest, most blistering hot, longest day I've ever had I heard the voice of Ironman- Mike Reilly-- say "from Madison, SD...Jason Troxell...YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!"

The End. (For now.) It was so hard to keep going. It was so hot. I was so zapped by the heat. It was
worth it. For me to reach the finish line was something maybe more meaningful than any race I've ever done. I have never struggled with so many things- my shoulder, mechanical issues, the heat, self doubt and been able to come out "on top".  To continue and fight through the day brought the reward of the finish and a new mental strength that can only come in helpful in the years and races ahead. Don't get me wrong, the mental aspect is a constant battle. As I sit here and write this I am still struggling with my inflated finishing time, "sub-par" efforts on the bike and run, and thoughts of "what if I had done this different".  No one likes to fail or have a bad race. I had much higher goals going into this race and now I am left with the mixed emotion of finishing the toughest race of my life and the desire to pull on the race kit tomorrow and do it all over again to prove to myself that I'm not that poor of an athlete. I will be back. Someday I will do this again. It is too much fun and too much of a ride to not do again. Next time YOU should join me and experience something that is life altering. Thank you to ALL who supported me one way or another for this race. Because I knew of all of you at home cheering, following along, praying, helping with kids, watching dogs, etc I had that extra "stuff" in my corner that kept me plugging along until 140.6 miles were behind me. Until next time, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support and God bless.

Nikki's Note: 

I had wonderful things I planned to say, but then I read Jason's race report, and I couldn't stop the tears because he was so spot on with explaining what this day entailed. I still maintain I'd rather be out there, enduring a race, rather than waiting for the person I love more than anyone else in the world to finish. When we were waiting for him to finish the bike, serious anxiety set in. He had not checked into one of the check points for two hours when the distance normally took him a strong hour. We went to the med tent even to see if they had any information. And then we finally saw him roll in. I managed to holler into transition and ask him what happened. And he replied with a disheartened, "Everything." My own heart sunk as well as I saw him slowly plod into the run. But I cannot adequately express the pride I felt seeing him run down Sherman Avenue, the final stretch of the race, nor the pride that I still feel. I know he's still fighting the demon of time, and when he does, I remind him of the dozens of fit-looking, sad-faced athletes I saw wheeling their bikes out of transition with no finisher medals on their chests. What Jason didn't mention above is that 300 registered athletes didn't show up to start that day, and of those who did start, 22% did not finish, including 9 male pros. This was a hard race. Again, I cannot express how proud I am to see him finish (and how much I ache to tackle another Ironman as well). On to the next chapter. 

No Man is an Island-- by Jason

Swimming in the uber cold green monster is a lonely activity
but not one I had to do alone often thankfully. 

Another week is gone- the last week. At this time next weekend I will be done with my second Ironman effort one way or another. As race day rockets towards me I find it harder to fight off the mental demons that accompany my personal history and the enormity of the task at hand. So for this week’s blog I will break it into two portions- the “bad” and the “good”.  For those of you wondering what I mean, here is a small snippet of what I will be dealing with this week.

Winter spinning meant lots of company much of the time. 

Friday I went to Sioux Falls for one last attempt at swimming and getting some instruction. I have not attempted to swim for the last two weeks due to issues with my shoulder so this was to be a bit of a “test” if you will.  The swim turned into mostly kicking drills with a few hundred freestyle laps to see what I was working with.  After a cortisone shot and taking some prescription anti-inflammatory meds I had hoped for the best but it was not to be. The pain might be a bit better, but I could feel it pretty much as soon as I started using the arms.  After last year’s IM Chattanooga I knew I needed to work quite a bit on the swim this season so I did. I was actually looking forward to the swim to see what my new and improved skills could do but alas I am afraid I will have to wait to have a swim that I believe is up to my expectations. I believe I will be able to just tough it out for the swim portion of the race next weekend but have to admit I am a bit worried about it.

The other thing that is bringing me some worries this week are the forecasted temps for race day. As we all know, the weathermen are not always exactly correct so when I first started looking at the extended forecast last week I was a bit skeptical. As a week has passed now and the forecasted temps have stayed the same, I begin to fret a bit. Saturday brought an email directly from Ironman- a “heat advisory” all about the much higher than usual temps this race will be experiencing.  At the current moment they are saying 102 degrees on race day. Ouch. I don’t sweat as much as I should and have always struggled with keeping my core temp down in heat. That combined with the only one or two days of “heat” I had to train in this year- one of which ended with Nik coming out to get me- have me a bit anxious.

I have many experienced Triathletes in my “circle” and many that are WAY wiser than me. They tell me things like “You should not worry about the things I can’t control” and that “You can control your mental strength and focus on the positive”. I am doing my best but it is a struggle at times! I do know that I am excited for the opportunity to race and am looking forward to having a new “story” to add to the triathlon chapter of this crazy ride. With that I go forward into these last few days, a mix of excited and anxious. Now enough of that and onto the good stuff.

The room of pain and I became one, and
yet curiously often during the longest
rides, people showed up in shifts to
join me. 

As we realized long ago, one does not undertake something of this magnitude by oneself. The time has come to pay homage to those in my support crew that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt are one of the biggest reasons I can accomplish the things I do. Here they are- my Ironman Support Crew!

-The WHOLE enchilada: My wife and children- Without their support, constant encouragement, and sacrifice none of this would happen. Period. I am truly blessed by having the most awesome wife and children ever. Triathlon is a family activity for us between racing, training, “playing” triathlon, and the work we do for SDTriNews- I am a lucky guy!

-The SWIM: Kathy Grady- Triathlete and swimmer extraordinaire. Last fall I emailed Kathy and asked if she would help me with my swim. After months of sessions with her this past fall/winter/spring, I actually started to enjoy swimming and made some huge gains (for me) in my times. I have no doubt that once the shoulder heals fully I will be a significantly quicker and more efficient swimmer than I was last year.

This year marked an important one: when our kids began their
own athletic pursuits. 

-The BIKE: Many who helped- a couple stand out. Tom Brown and Matt Hanson hardly missed a spin session all winter/spring. Many a time I would be lacking motivation to put in the time needed and one or both of those two would show up to spin and ruin my plans for slacking off.  Kurt Pickard, Trevor Schubert, Mike Waldner, Lori Waldner, Amanda Hanson all logged some hours with me and Coach Troy over the winter….so in 3…2…1 ;-)

-The RUN: I did a lot more solo running this year than in years past but still need to thank Kurt Pickard and Matt Hanson for dragging me out or keeping me going on days when it might not have happened on my own.

-The GLUE: There are a LOT of people that I found inspiration in, received texts from, had conversations with, and received encouragement from. These constant influences and reinforcements helped hold the whole thing together and kept me moving throughout the last 24 weeks. I would attempt to list them here, but there is no way I could do it without forgetting someone.

There we have it. Another journey nearing its end. If you are interested we will post links for tracking and such later this week. Thank you to everyone who has helped along the way, you will all be crossing my mind at some point during the race next Sunday. Bring on IM CD’A!!

Nikki's Note: 

I have so much pride and love for Mr. T. right now, I have a hard time explaining it--and maybe a bit of anxiety as well for all of the reasons stated above. The heat forecast alone makes me cringe. Watching someone train for an Ironman is way easier than training for it myself. But watching someone DO an Ironman, well, I'd rather do it myself than sit and stress all day for my favorite person in the whole world. When we did Choo, I remember just thinking that I didn't have the time or energy to worry about how Jason was doing because I needed to just focus on my own race, on doing the next thing. So I did. I know I'll need to focus on something new on Sunday since stewing all day about Jason won't do me any good. I'll get to mark up some buff arms and legs from 4am-7am as a volunteer, and then if Troxell Quatro allows, I'll see where else I can volunteer for the day or if I can find a nice, air conditioned coffee shop to chill out in since I also have not had any favorable encounters with heat lately. 

I love you, Jason Troxell, and without a doubt, you'll do great come Sunday. 

The Road Less Traveled

Tapering week means time for "important" projects, like building

a bat house for the backyard with mini Mr. T. 

Mr. T. had a great week of training after a lackluster set of workouts thanks to being superdad and husband. The week consisted of a handful of excellent, shorter bike workouts and a big bike ride outside, a couple of stellar runs in beautiful weather, and a couple of visits to the lake to tackle kicking drills in the open water. He's still resting the shoulder, believing that doing so will mean a successful swim in Coeur D'Alene in 12 days.

Tapering also means blowing off steam with unstructured workouts
like watergun wars indoors (and appropriate defense gear). 

I'm uber confident our Irondad will do great, and he'll find himself with some new hardware around his neck a week from Sunday. Deep down inside, when he peels back the concerns, he knows this too. He wouldn't be human if he didn't have any doubts. So for now, he's been trusting his training and doing what he should these final days of a 24-week plan.

Several years ago I heard a song that has long since become one of my favorites. Relient K sings the song "Who I am Hates Who I've Been." A recent conversation with a friend reminded me of why I love this song. It reminds me of our identities and why we do what we do.

We Troxells, like all Ironmen, tend to think our identities changed the day we crossed a finish line in September and heard Mike Reilly declare us to be Ironmen.

When I visited with our Ironman friend a few weeks ago, I mentioned how much fun I had on the day of our Ironman in Chattanooga. In particular, I told him, I had a selfish day of no responsibilities but that swim, bike, and run. I had a day all alone focusing on the activity that I loved. When I mentioned the word selfish, our friend reminded me something: that without this activity, without triathlon, we'd be different people. In particular, he said, "I like who I am with it than who I was with out it."

It was a thought I hadn't pondered for a long time.

Five years ago life as we knew it changed forever when Mr. T.
decided to go for a run. And he never stopped. 

We started our triathlon lifestyle together four years ago. Jason lost 50 pounds in the first six months of working out (can I just say that I really hate how easily he can drop weight), and I simply got stronger. When I think really hard, I can remember the days before we worked out, when I couldn't convince Jason to go for a walk together. We spent a lot of time . . . sitting. We had a two-year-old and an infant then, and I think about now and how we're these "older" parents with little kids. I'm pretty sure that triathlon training has made us better parents--physically stronger and just more active overall.

Three years later Mr. T. completed his second 70.3
with some great support. 

And that's what leads me to this great song. The part of the lyrics say:

So sorry for the person I became. 
So sorry that it took so long for me to change. 
I'm ready to be sure I never become that way again
'cause who I am hates who I've been. 
Who I am hates who I've been. 

I have a difficult time imagining life without triathlon, without training or exercise. I have a difficult time remembering life before children but more importantly, what life with children and without fitness would look like. We've indeed been blessed by the One who's given us the ability to move. And remember who we've been helps us remember who we want to be.

We live on a gravel road that the average city dweller may call primitive and ill travelled. We know different. We see cars, trucks, and tractors drive on it daily. Furthermore, we see our own footprints on it as well, reminding us regularly that we have this choice to travel beyond our front deck and on a road less traveled. The benefits are definitely worth the cost.

Only 12 more days until IMCDA!

Chasing the Wagon

Well the last “hard” week has come and gone and to be honest it wasn’t a “good” week at all. The week dawned with promise and plans for epic workouts and then that crazy thing called life got in the way. I am now at that point that I seem to hit every season about 4-5 weeks out from a big race and scrambling to fit in “enough” workouts and wondering if I am sufficiently prepared to undertake something that I know will be a huge challenge. I am not sure what the trick is to hitting every workout “required” and having the motivation to carry on through the last weeks of training.  I consciously tried to not train quite as much or as hard this year in order to avoid the last month failures but alas…evidently I am still a normal Joe with a life and responsibilities outside of triathlon.  Without further ado here is a summary of my week in a large nutshell.

Monday was a planned day “off” for me to get ready for what was ahead so I spent it with the family and mentally tried to schedule out the remainder of the week. I also had a doctor appointment to try and figure out the cause of the sharp pain I had been feeling in my left shoulder the last 3-4 weeks primarily during swim & strength sessions.  After a visit and some x-rays I was referred to the Orthopedic Institute in Sioux Falls and scheduled a Friday appointment there. Tuesday after work I was able to jump on my bike and get the planned 2 hour ride done so I was feeling pretty good at this point. Wednesday came and with it came the end of Nik’s marathon grading/schoolwork that she had been putting a TON of time into. The end of that huge task deserved a break and reward so I took the kiddos that evening after work so she could go out with friends and get a much deserved time to relax. Thursday- the end of my workweek came and with it the National Weather Service promised a decent evening. The previous Thursday we had planned to take the family camping for a night but we rescheduled due to mother nature.  So, with the promise of a decent evening we loaded up and went tent camping at our local state park.  Aside from the swarms of mosquitoes and seemingly abundant ticks we managed to have a fun time and make some memories with the kids and their first ever tent camping experience. (Note: air mattresses have been ordered for everyone)!  Friday morning we packed up, headed home, unpacked, and tried to get a little rest before heading to Sioux Falls.  Upon being seen at the Orthopedic Institute it was determined that my rotator cuff was impinging/inflamed and there might be some tendonitis in the shoulder. I was given a cortisone shot, a prescription for some uber anti-inflammatory pills, and directed to do physical therapy.  Lastly the doc recommended NO swimming until race day. My head was spinning by now trying to comprehend how I was supposed to be able to race on no swimming for 3+ weeks. Saturday brought another SD Triathlon and with it the travel, time, and work to attend the event and process pictures for SDTriNews. After pictures were up, late that afternoon we again were able to enjoy some nice weather and spent some time with the kiddos at the beach. The evening brought the opening of the heavens and the deluge of rain so I got to spend part of the evening keeping the shop vac company in the basement as we waited for the impending doom of water trying to make our house a home. (It never happened so that was a small victory)! Sunday brought church, naps, and FINALLY a short run turned into speedwork and a short bike turned into tempo session.

There it is, the week that was. How am I going to make it? One of the kids favorite lines from a movie- Doom on me? The questions swirl and go unanswered for now.  I know all I can do is give it my best on race day with what I have. At the time of writing this entry I have tested the shoulder by going for a quick swim in the lake and can say that it was not good- quite painful. The no swimming thing looks like it will be a “must” now. I do have plans to leave work early today (Tuesday) and get a huge bike/run in- the last of this season’s “big” efforts. I have joked with friends lately that I am now past the “I signed up for an Ironman and I’m super excited” stage and am in the “What in the world was I thinking” stage. I know it is going to be a hard day on June 28^th. I know I have put in a lot of work over the past 24+ weeks and while it might not have been “by the books”, it is what it is. I am looking forward to testing myself on race day and am very thankful for the opportunity to get to TRI and do these things! Here is hoping for 3 more weeks of “good” training and for some recovery for the body. Thanks for following along- we will write again next week…..maybe Nik will take it back over so you won’t be bored to death either! 

One Final Push

Our cutest SDTriNews.com staff members. 

Three and a half weeks lie between Mr. T. and IMCDA, and we're all prepared for what should be his longest and hardest week yet. But that's yet to come.

This past week looked like a pretty normal week in the world of IM training with one big difference: a lack of swim. Mr. T. again took some time away from the pool until he visited with his trainer and swim instructor extraordinaire, who made some mild corrections to his stroke and (gulp) instructed him to find a doctor.

This past weekend yielded little in the world of training but much in the world of SDTriNews.com. We spent Saturday morning snapping pictures and chilling out with some of the coolest triathletes South Dakota has to offer at our local triathlon, the Madman Mini. Mr. T. spent the rest of the day processing those pictures while I tackled the lawn and managed the minions.

Monday the dreaded doctor's appointment arrived and with it some semi-good news. Mr. T. does not have a problem with his rotater cuff (yeah!) but he does have some tendinitis. The doctor told him that she'd usually recommend ceasing all activity and getting some physical therapy, but then she paused and said, "I'm guessing you're not going to do that, though."

Smart lady.

So Mr. T. earned himself a cortisone shot this coming Friday which will hopefully help alleviate the pain until he has conquered IMCDA at the end of the month, and then I'm guessing he'll take the prescribed rest.

We LOVE Base. 

One more note: Mr. T. received his last Base Performance shipment before Ironman this week. We both can't say enough about this stuff. We talk about it not because Base is paying us to do so (they're not) but because it actually works. Those of you that have been following us for a while may remember how Mr. T. committed the ultimate triathlete sin by trying something new on race day (incidentally, on his first Ironman day) by taking Base salt rather than popping pills. As a result, on that day he had zero digestive or cramping issues, and he has used nothing but Base since. Additionally, he's been using Base's recovery pills and whey recovery shakes religiously during this training season. When I trained for and ran my half marathon this past year with Troxell quatro I also took Base. It really is great stuff.

So this week all of us Troxells are preparing for a ginormous training week. We all know the sacrifices involved, and more importantly, we know that it does not last forever--just a week. We all relish the taper.

Three plus weeks remaining!

Fastest (and Longest) Week Ever

I sat down to write the blog tonight after remember we hadn't written a blog yet, and all I could think was, "What DID we do this past week?"

We had one of those weeks where so much happens, or so little, that it literally zooms by without a vivid memory. Thankfully, only one of us is suffering from compromised memory, and Mr. T. was able to revive my thoughts.

First off, Ironman training continues in the background of all things work and family. Jason nursed a sore shoulder, and at the encouragement of his swim instructor, eschewed all things aquatics for the week. He did ice the shoulder regularly. This naturally gave him more time and energy to tackle his longest bike ride of the season and his longest training run ever.

A few things to note about these obnoxiously long workouts. First, he completed the five hour and fifteen minute ride on a trainer in a tiny room in our basement that we long ago dubbed the Room of Pain.

My husband is amazing.

Lest anyone ever thing I'm that wife who regularly checks on him and brings him nutrition, know this: the children and I fled the premises for the day knowing that much grunting and sweaty smells (which make my stomach turn) would come wafting up through the floorboards of the house. Thankfully, we have sympathetic friends. One friend, Mike, showed up just to visit. He hung out and chatted for two hours. Another friend, Matt, brought his bike and pedaled away with Jason.

We have great friends.

Jason's longest training run ever took place on arguably the only dry window of time we've had here for several days. He took off Monday morning around 11am, and again, a couple of friends met him and kept him company for all but about 30 minutes of his 2+ hour run. Again, we have great friends.

We learned a long time ago that while we don't have someone that we know to hold our hands during a race, we value any training experience with company. Cutting a ride or a run short can happen pretty easily when there's no one to answer to. So we have always appreciated the accountability.

As far as our overall family goes, last week marked a couple of important endings. The two biggest Troxells had their last soccer games of the season (and we all cheered), and the biggest Troxell had her last day of first grade. It's official: summer has arrived.

Meanwhile, at fifteen weeks pregnant, I'm enjoying the lazy life and valuing any moment I don't feel like losing whatever I've eaten for the day. I started a new strength routine this week thinking that if I'm going to deliver a baby in November, I might not have a six-pack, but I can have some guns. Jason found my all-time favorite maternity magazine ever (the September 2010 issue of Runner's World, featuring my then-five-months-post-partum buddy Carrie Tollefson and her advice regarding strength training and pregnancy. I believe the article said that hitting the gym would help us compromised folks get back to running more quickly).

 I also am trying to embrace the role as the numero uno cheerleader as opposed to the person training for an Ironman (emphasis on trying). So Monday about an hour after Mr. T. took off for his long run, the minions and I piled into Minnie, the beloved kid friendly vehicle, with ice water and cowbells in search of our conquering hero. We didn't have to drive too far to find him, and when we did, the kids let the cowbells loose, and we successfully refueled his water bottle and lifted his spirits. Mission accomplished.

Only four weeks till we leave for IMCDA, which means only two, maybe three more weeks of intense training. I think we're all looking forward to the taper.

The Best Day EVER! (Life Lessons from a Two Year Old)

Beautiful . . . and COLD. 

As Nikki is busy with end-of-the-year teaching/grading, the duty of updating our weekly blog has fallen upon me again. Those expecting their weekly dose of literary genius can stop reading now and tune in next week when she (hopefully for my sake) returns!

Well, another week is in the books regardless if we want it to be or not. The past week was a tough week for me training-wise, but I learned, or should I say I was reminded, of some important lessons. As the week ended I found myself down a bit that I “missed” so much and worried about the time remaining before IMCDA, but more on that later.

The week started off with my scheduled day off of working out- Monday. Then Tuesday came and with it came evening soccer games for both Sammy and Tyler. I still managed to get a short high-quality spin session in after the soccer games were over….but let's just say if I was a strict “plan-follower” that it wouldn’t have been enough. Wednesday evening I got my swim set done and felt pretty good although my shoulder is acting up, and I'm wondering if I have picked up a bit of an arm crossover that is leading to this. Thursday was a day I decided to take off--Tyler (our now 5 year old) had a birthday the needed celebrating. We had a fun evening of opening presents, eating cake, and putting together Lego sets. Friday was the “crown jewel” of my workout week. After Nikki finished teaching at noon, I packed my gear and hit the road for a trip up north to Lake Cochrane State Park. Once I arrived, I convinced myself to swim in the VERY cold lake- and was able to get in my first 2+ mile outdoor swim of the season. After the swim I experienced some pretty persistent dizziness- which I guess is a side effect of swimming in cold water for that length of time. After the swim I met up with a friend and fellow triathlete for a very challenging bike ride that covered the course of the Outland Challenge Triathlon. I was extremely happy with the results of the shortened--due to possible impending weather--ride but was left still feeling a little off maybe from the swim. I decided to pass on the run due to weather and the fact that it was a bit later in the day that I had figured on and still had an hour-plus drive back home. I had decided earlier in the week to try and put in a big day Friday and then take Saturday off so that I could play with the kids and give Nikki time to work on school work. Saturday night I went to bed and for many various reasons could not sleep. Sunday morning dawned and with it a terrible migraine combined with an almost all-day long spell of strange dizziness. So….ya, I did NOTHING on Sunday as I generally laid around and lamented the week that was.

Either the cold or all that turning
around made me dizzy.

Sunday late afternoon after many fluids, meds, and coffee we decided to go to Sioux Falls. Tyler had received a Toys-R-Us gift card for his birthday, and it was burning a hole in his pocket. We ended up having a fun evening though, a non-rushed visit to the toy store, dinner at the kids' favorite spot (the mall food court), and movies in the vehicle along the way.

Now, as I mentioned earlier, I did NOT have a very “good” week of workouts. I think I probably missed more sessions than I ended up doing. The ones I did get in, although seemingly high-quality, were shorter than prescribed. All this adds up mentally, and by Sunday I was in the “this week was terrible-what am I going to do-the race is almost here” place.  Some of you who workout regulary have been to this place-- you miss a run or a bike or anything like that and you become a cranky person; I know I visit this place too regularly. So in the midst of my visit to the mental torture chamber, our 2 year old came to the rescue. No joking here, she saved the day, the week, and reminded me of things that I knew but somehow get pushed to the back of the burner because of life’s business. As I mentioned, Sunday afternoon and evening we spent in Sioux Falls. Several times during the trip and dinner Sadie would say in her super excited two-year-old voice “This is the best day EVER!!!” To see the excitement in her eyes as a result of such simple things-- getting to look at toys, watching movies, eating a cheeseburger, and spending time as a family playing together--served as a wake up to me. Looking back, I was reminded that several other times during the week that all three of the children had used the powerful phrase “This is the best day EVER!!” at some point during one of the working-out absent evenings when instead we played or did something as simple as sat on the floor and talked. Looking at the week through a child’s eyes, I knew the week was just another in the seemingly too short time we are given and that it wasn’t a “bad” week, rather it was probably a “good” week.

Our life-lesson teacher

Am I doing enough in my training for IM Couer d’Alene? I hope so. Will I set a “PR” for the iron-distance race? I don’t know and deep down inside really don’t care. Will I finish come race day? I believe I will. After June 28^th will I look back and regret anything during the journey? No, because I will be able to remember the “great” weeks like I just had that were sprinkled throughout the 24-week training period and know I grew as an athlete and as a person. Another big week lies ahead and with it the challenges that come with trying to fit everything in. I think we all just need to remember that sometimes “The BEST week EVER” is not something that we were anticipating and be willing to embrace it as part of the journey.

Hope you all have a great week! Thanks for following along and for your encouragement along the way.