The End . . . For Now

We each plan on writing a race report since we did have different races, so for you people who care about that sort of thing, you can find it below (kind of like the statistics of a baseball game).

I don’t know where to start. Or how to begin. Or how to end.

We did it. We are Ironmen.

And I’m still pinching myself to see if this really happened.

My Observations Based on a One-Day Experience:

Ironman can be the pinnacle of an achievement, a year of work, and them BAM, one day passes and it’s done. Like a wedding. Or the birth of a child. Ironman.

Or it can be one day amongst many in the fabric of life, like a quilt. It’s one patch, right next to other patches. It may stand out brighter and shinier, but it’s still a day like the others and a part of this whole experience of life on earth. It’s a day that changes you forever. But it’s also just one day.

It’s one day that we focus on putting our best foot forward, on staying positive no matter what the circumstances because we know that if we don’t stay positive, we may not finish. It’s the day where we realize the strongest muscle we have is not in our legs or our hips or our arms, but deep in our chest and somewhere between our ears. If we can figure out a way to move past the discomfort and look at the beauty around us, we’ll finish. We’ll cross the line with a smile on our faces.

Ironman Lesson #1:

More than muscles, more than fitness, attitude matters. So, I can’t help but wonder now that we’re done and I think about everything we’ve learned this year: why don’t we treat everyday like this? Why don’t I? Why don’t I look at each day and say, “If I just stay positive today no matter what, I can make this day better”?

Ironman Lesson #2:

Encouragement matters. Every race bib in an IM race not only has a person’s number on it, but it has that person’s name on it. So when people see you, they call you out by name, especially on the run. I’ve decided personally that words sound even more encouraging in a southern accent. I was called Hon (short for Honey) and Sweetie and Girl more times than I can imagine. You gawt this, girl. Come awn, Honey, this is yors.

Plus, we had oodles of people, people that I don’t even know because they’re the friend of a friend or the friend of my sister cheering for us, praying for us, and watching us finish live at home.

Imagine how much easier life would be when, on those days that you don’t think you can handle one more thing, one more child saying no or one more temper tantrum or one more project or one more piece of laundry to fold, if someone was yelling from the sideline, “You gawt this, girl! Come awn, Honey, this is yors!”

Ironman Lesson #3:

Triathlon can make marriage better. One of the (incredibly sad) sayings surrounding triathletes is, “If you’re still married, you’re not training hard enough.” Yes. Seriously. We have the blessing of having a common interest fifteen years after we promised to stick with each other throughout our time on this earth. And so instead of something dividing us, it united us.

I’m so proud of Jason for not just finishing but seriously crushing that race. He stuck with all parts of his plan (read below if you’re interested), and his plan worked wonderfully for him.

I thought for sure that I’d be thinking of him most of the day. And yes, I did think of him. I wondered how the swim had gone, how the bike was going, how he felt on the run. I didn’t have to wonder all day, though. Around 7:00, my new best friend from Canada (read my race report for more info) and I were walking through an aid station when one of the porta potty doors flew open and almost took her out. Out stepped Jason Troxell. Seeing him encouraged me so much. We exchanged encouraging words and very brief race reports, and then he went on to run the last six miles of his race while I ran the last half of mine.

We learned so much this year. God blessed us with this opportunity, and then He continued to pour out blessings in the form of physical strength, mental strength, and friends and family that all made reaching this goal possible.

And while this little journey has come to an end, I have a feeling that we have many more fun rides ahead.

Nikki’s Race Report:

Before the race

We set our alarms for 3:30 am, but our excellent sherpa, Kurt, wanted us up earlier apparently because his alarm went off at 2:30. Needless to say, we had our gear ready and were holding our arms out for body marking at transition by 4:30. Then school busses hauled us down to the swim start where we formed a line with other racers and pretended to take naps on the ground using our wetsuits as pillows. This worked well for a while until some rude man in a green volunteer shirt told us to move forward. Just kidding. All the volunteers were actually fantastic. As Mike Reilly, the voice of Ironman says, it’s like having your mom with you all day long. I loved the volunteers.

The Swim:

We walked down a pier and jumped into semi-cool water feet first, and then we started swimming. I started right next to Jason. And the swim went incredibly well. The current obviously aided me because my half-iron swim was around 56 minutes, and my full ironman time on Sunday was 1:05. Ironically, my shoulder, which has been bugging me the past two weeks, felt great the entire day.

T1:

I transitioned fairly smoothly and even got to experience wet-suit stripping. I pulled my suit down to my waist, laid on the ground, and a spry old guy in a green volunteer shirt yanked it off my lower half. That was fun and memorable.

The Bike:

The scenery blew me away. Seriously. We live in a place where people joke that the state tree is the telephone pole. And on this bike course, hills with gold, orange, and red-leafed trees flanked the road. This course had some nice rollers, which I personally love. I never mind climbing a hill when I know I get to race down the other side like a kid. I believe I even yelled “weeee!” a few times downhill. I rode the bike at a moderate pace because I kept wondering what I’d need left for the run, so I paid attention to the alarm on my watch and ate whenever it went off. I had zero issues on the bike, thankfully. Other racers reported tacks on the road (which explains the number of very fast-looking and irritated riders on the side of the road fixing their tires) as well as a few accidents (I believe 11 different people earned trips to the local ER because of bike accidents). I finished with a sore backside, but that’s it.

T2:

I transitioned fairly smoothly here as well. I aimed to beat every cutoff, and when I rolled into T2 around 4:00, nearly two hours before the cutoff, I was ecstatic. A wonderful volunteer helped me change in the women’s changing tent into my run gear, and when I thanked her and apologized for how bad I smelled, she said, “Oh, don’t worry about it. I got peed on today.” Yeah, she was a dedicated volunteer. She also informed me that I was going to make it because I could walk the whole run if I had to and still make the cutoff.

The Run:

When I was biking, I had a hard time imagining feeling like running after the 116-mile ride, but I did. The crowds kept me moving that first mile. I heard my name and kept wondering who saw me that knew me, and then I turned around, and I saw Claude and Monica. They convinced us to sign up for Choo. They were the reason we came. I loved seeing them at the beginning because they gave me such positive energy from the start. Somewhere shortly before mile five a girl sidled up next to me and said something like, “Hey, you’re about my pace, so I’m going to run with you.” And we ran together the rest of the race. I call her my CBFF (Canadian Best Friend). I had some gut issues during the first half of the marathon, and when I walked, so did she. She kept me moving, though, and she reminded me much of my friend Sheila by giving us little markers like, “We’ll start running at the cone there,” or “Let’s just run to the next aid station.” I ended up eating nothing solid from about mile six on, and at every aid station I drank water, Coke, and eventually chicken broth (yum!!!!). We walked up every hill (and there were many of them), and ran down every downhill and on the flat parts. In short, we survived the marathon. And we finished two hours before the cutoff.

In Summary:

I’d call this a good race. Now I know what an Ironman feels like. And, like many people who do one, I’m itching to do another one. I have a few new goals to shoot for now. J

Jason's Race Report: 

Mission accomplished. What a feeling.  Amazing day. Unexplainable journey. Finished. Ironman.  I have so many thoughts and emotions going through my head it is hard to put them all into words. We did it. This particular undertaking was accomplished and we move on applying the lessons learned and life experiences gained to whatever comes next.  Without further ado here is my race report:

Pre-race-  

I was tired, nervous, and had a bit of stomach issues. I didn't get much sleep the night before although I didn't feel any more nervous than some of my half iron race mornings. I just wanted to get this thing underway.  We walked down to transition, got body marked, dropped off the special needs bags, and rode the bus to the swim drop off.  Wow, this thing was here.

Swim- 

Shortly after waking up we were notified via social media that the water temp was 1 degree too warm for wetsuits to be worn and still be eligible for age group awards and Kona slots. I was there to finish, and thus not worried at all about placement. The wetsuit went on. There was so much talk of the river current, them shutting the dam down so there would be no current, etc that I didn't know what to expect.  The swim went well, and as my time shows, the river current ended up being a factor-- pushing me to a swim that was roughly 25 seconds per hundred faster than my "normal" half iron pace....yes I am that slow. I had goals to really work on my swim this year and just never did it. Thus it is again a goal for me now that the off season has arrived.  Anyway, the swim went great.  I got a little warm towards the end, but no cramping so that was a plus.

Bike- 

We never did make it out to drive the course so all I had in my head was what I had read in the forums. The overall opinion of a tough and hilly course was in my thoughts and the nagging reminder that....well....(confession time...sorry Yoda!!)...this ride would be the first time on my bike in three weeks added to my anxiety.  After grabbing both my sunglasses and helmet (with built in visor....ooops), I hit the road.  I felt great on the bike.  The course was tough, but not impossible.  I believe the sessions on the computrainer and biking outside around Lake Cochrane adequately prepared me for the ride.  I didn't want to push too hard because I knew what was up next so I made a big effort to pay attention to speed/cadence and not go "all out".  For reasons outside of their control, Ironman had to add a little over four miles to the bike and it was a hot topic all weekend.  In my opinion we just got to enjoy some awesome country for a little bit longer!

Run-  

I went into the weekend with the plan to survive the swim, put in a solid effort on the bike, and then do a lot of walking on the marathon.  My longest run in training was 14 miles.  Once.  Otherwise a handful of 10-13 mile runs where what I could do this year.  I had never run more than that 14 miles.  I had NO idea what to expect on the run.  I got off the bike, put on dry socks/shoes, and headed out.  I felt good so I started off running.  I stopped at every aid station and decided to keep running till I couldn't.  I felt great the entire time, I walked through the aid stations, stopped to use the facilities, and walked during a couple of dark moments (the run course was BRUTAL), but otherwise I never hit a wall or had any cramps or GI issues at all.  I loved the run, it was the single hardest thing I had ever done and I had to constantly fight off demons in order to keep moving.  Something about digging deeper than I ever have and "winning" the battle with myself was awesome and an experience I will NEVER forget.  Having Mike Reilly bring me in to cross the line was something I'd dreamed of ever since I started following this sport and I was not disapointed- that man can bring your day to an epic ending!

Parting thoughts- 

This was the single most rewarding athletic accomplishment in my life- hands down.  I cannot even grasp yet the enormity of what we just were part of, the training, the sacrifices, the high moments, the low moments, the support.  Doing an Ironman is more than competing on race day- it is a life lesson and one that I hope will make me a better person, husband, father, and friend.  Getting back to the hotel room and seeing all of the comments and congratulations and then seeing all the people who had been following along throughout the day was absolutely mind boggling for me.  You all are so awesome for your support in this adventure, I wish we could do something to say thanks for everything you did for us.  ANYONE can do an Ironman.  I hope that our journey inspired you, challenged you, and maybe even helped you at least start to see what doors you can open if you commit to something.  Until next time, this half of the Two Ambitious Parents is signing off.  God bless!

From Then to Now . . . and Who Helped Us Get There

We've written sixty posts over the last year, logged countless miles on bikes and running shoes, and swam countless laps in the local pool. We've nursed minor injuries and sick children, sometimes simultaneously. And we recognize, without a doubt, that none of this would've happened without the love, support, and help of friends and family.

Without the following people, we'd never have the privilege to toe the line at an Ironman event in one week:

Pickard: When Jason began running four years ago, so did Pickard. He and Jason started together, and their journeys have often paralleled, with Pickard completing his first Ironman in August even. They began with a run/walk routine on the lonely South Dakota gravel roads. Their friendship was forged in sweat, and they continue to train together still. In fact, Pickard has volunteered to drive our sore behinds home and act as Sherpa for us in Chattanooga.

Deb: I would never have tried a triathlon without my friend Deb's consistent encouragement. She still is one of my biggest encouragers. The first summer after we moved to this community, Deb and I did three sprint triathlons, and those three races still have some of the best memories for me. They planted some seeds.

Mike and Lori: These two are the Mr. and Mrs. Fitness of our community. When people have questions about fitness, they ask Mike and Lori. And we have the blessing of having them as training partners and friends as well. They've been with us since the beginning, having logged some of our very first runs with us many moons ago. They have trained with us, played sherpa with their mountain bikes as we've run, and watched our kids while we've trained.

Jason, aka Yoda, aka Nazi trainer & Red, nutrition expert extraordinaire: We've called Jason many things over the past year. And while we loathed a workout or two, we respect his knowledge and advice. After all, he has qualified for Kona . . . four times. He also survived a bike-car collision. He wrote the last 20 weeks of our training plan and told us what we needed to do to get to the finish line healthy. Red shared his wealth of training and nutrition knowledge with us throughout this journey as well, especially early on. Both experienced ironmen gave us the encouragement that allowed us to believe we could actually do what we hope to do next Sunday.

Tom and Amy: Tom spent countless Tuesday nights throughout the spring and summer spinning in the basement with Jason. Amy gave Tom the big thumbs up to do this, and she also listened to countless whines from me about the difficulty of training and managing the family. Amy also acted as a water stop on one of my worst runs during training and encouraged me mid-run.

Babs and Julie: During my longest training ride and run, Babs and Julie were home. I ran and rode by their houses respectively and stopped for ice water. They both saved my bacon and gave me more reason to keep on moving.

Steve and Kari: These two opened their home up to us and gave us a base at the prettiest and cleanest lake in South Dakota (Lake Cochrane for the win!). They encourage us consistently with their verbal support.

Jill, Mathew, Jenny, Brian, Christine, Sheila, and Brigitte: All of these people have logged at least one big ride with either Jason or me. They made the long miles bearable on days we would have otherwise wanted to cut the workout short.

Matt and Amanda along with countless high school girls provided kid care extraordinare often while we had workouts. Matt and Amanda in particular bit the big bullet, taking care of our three along with their own three for three days while we completed a half-ironman in July, and they're on call while we're in Chattanooga if our parent substitutes need help.

Our parents: I'd be lying if I said both parents didn't think we're a little whacked in the head for what we do. However, they all still encourage us, tell us to keep training hard (while worrying that we'll injure ourselves), and provide us with some very important support: kid care and food. My mom and dad both helped me in a training weekend a while back by providing frozen meals for a couple of weeks and bringing me water on a long run, and Jason's folks are the new Troxell parents for four of the six days that we'll be gone to Chattanooga.

All of these individuals do not include the MANY people who have asked us about our training, sent texts of encouragement, prayed prayers for strength and peace, honked at us or yelled from the windows as they've caught us training. The amount of people who continue to encourage us humbles us both.

In short, our journey begins and continues with support. No man is an island. When we set out to do what we'll do in a week, we knew we'd need help. We did not know how we'd manage training and family life, but because of all of these wonderful people, we did. We didn't train perfectly. We modified some workouts. We skipped some altogether. But in the end, we also believe our biggest muscle lies between our ears and somewhere deep in our chests, and with mental strength and big hearts, we'll be just fine come September 28th. d

Plus, we have a whole passel of people rooting for us.

Nesting for Baby Choo

Jason suffered through his workout with a view like this. 

It's a good thing that we're in the taper stage of Ironman training because workouts are taking a backseat to the demands of work, children, and general domesticity.

We're still taking treks to Sioux Falls for our swims thanks to the drained pool about a mile and a half away from us and the persistently bluish green lake in the backyard.

This weekend, we divided and conquered, thanks again to lots of help. Jason headed out west to cover South Dakota's first (ever) half ironman distance triathlon at Custer State Park. He took off on Friday so he and our friend who was competing could complete workouts in a new environment Saturday and prepare for Sunday's event.

While Jason was soaking in the beauty of the Black Hills, I stayed home with the minions. And the clothes dryer quit. However, thanks to daycare Saturday, two very brave friends on Saturday (one who watched our three little people with her three little people and another who rode a 50+miler with me), and another good friend on Sunday, I finished both of my long-ish workouts this weekend, picked up a used clothes dryer (thanks Craigs List), and moved the old dryer out.

Good thing we're tapering.

This weekend allowed for a few moments of reflection. Since the last seven years of my life with this year aside have consisted of being pregnant, having a baby, and then nursing and caring for a newborn, I can't help see comparisons (or stark contrasts) between life now and life the last six years.

Tapering for an Ironman sure feels a lot like nesting.

Maybe I'm just losing it a little and second guessing things, but seriously. I have been doing some of the very same things I've done three times now. I'm thinking the same thoughts. And in a way, the past seven years have prepared me for this week. Let's look a little at the comparisons.

The Chattanooga Handbook--it's like the "What to Expect When You're Expecting" for Ironman.

We count down the days until the due date. Literally.

Our trainer asked us to start "visualizing" a perfect day, a moderate day, and an "everything-goes-to-the-dogs" kind of day to prepare for what's to come. We took a class like this (which included some graphic video footage) a few months before baby number one came.

We've mapped out the route to Ironman . . . kind of like how we mapped out the route to the hospital and practiced it just in case things didn't go as planned.

I spent Monday morning preparing and freezing six meals so we would have something to eat while we recover from Choo. Yep, this felt familiar.

I'm thinking about packing an overnight bag soon.

I've been told this will be the hardest and most rewarding thing I've ever done.

I've read and heard that we might experience some depression after this event has passed.

Yep. Ironman. It's a lot like nesting.

Twelve days left . . .

Taper Week 1: 20 days and counting

The last of the IM supplies. You know your husband loves you when 

he recognizes not all anti-chafing agents are made the same. 

Clearly creativity has gone downhill when the title looks as sad as this week's. But alas, that's all I can think of. Hooray. It's taper week 01.

That basically means the hardest work is behind us, and while we still have big workouts to do, they're not the biggest. Cuz we're tapering down.

Good thing this is happening, because life is beginning to start to take over. The basic elements of home ownership, domesticity, and child rearing are beginning to intensify. For some reason, the grass has decided to grow again, so Mr. T. has found himself mowing up to twice a week now. The days continue to shorten, which means less outside-of-work time to do a workout. And my job will start tonight, which means I'll have about 40 hours less to do things during the week.

Thankfully, we're almost there.

Lately, we both keep fighting the following elements that challenge our daily functioning thanks to Ironman training:

• We're hungry. . . full . . . then hungry 15 minutes later. 
• We're tired. All the time. Waves of fatigue come every 30 minutes. We're dealing with this still, believing some of it comes from a really cruddy mattress. The new one should arrive soon. :-)
• Doubt, and then fear plague us. I wonder if I'll make it to the end, and then this feeling is stopped by a firm belief that we can will ourselves to the end by the grace of God. I've read that mental toughness counts for something in an event like this one. 

So . . . we'll see. We have twenty days until the big day. Our friends tell us helpful things like: 

• The hay is in the barn. 
• The cash is in the bank. 
• The hard work is behind you. 
• Focus on just staying healthy. 

This week looks similar to next week with a few modifications. We'll have the challenge of me starting work, and also, the local pool is officially closed. For now we have plans to make a couple of trips one hour away to another pool and then to utilize the rowing machine at the local community center to keep those muscles active and limber. 

Last night we did something that really helps me with training even this late in the game: we watched the live feed that Ironman puts out allowing anyone with an internet connection to watch participants finish a race. We watched Ironman Wisconsin yesterday, and again and again, we found ourselves inspired. 

Here's to hoping we'll find ourselves crossing that finish line in twenty days. 

Breakthrough Week & Going Home

Last week's plan was entitled "Breakthrough Week." I think the trainer meant "Break You Week." 

Thankfully, we're still whole. 

And actually, we did some things that helped us regain the love for Ironman training, a love that had been waning because of these intensely long workouts.

We found some more support crew, and I did something that I believe every adult athlete should do sometime. I went home. 

I had a long run planned, and nary a sitter was found (that darn marching band has stolen our best sitters). So I went home. Mom watched our three little minions, and I ran through neighborhood of vast, gravel and ill-used asphalt roads banked by lush corn and soybean fields. It was like running through heaven. More importantly, though, it revived this tired girl's soul. There's something really unique, interesting, and empowering about running through an area with so many memories only seen through a vehicle window before. The slow pace of running compared to driving the same roads allows for more memories to be savored. Yep, it definitely lifted my spirits and sparked a love for running I haven't felt in a very long time. 

So, the lessons? We learned a few this week. Varying locations for long workouts makes them a whole lot more interesting. Also, ask for help and take it when offered. I came home from the family farm with three happy, dirty children (thanks to a fun time at Grandma and Grandpa's house), a revived spirit, and the equivalent of eleven frozen meals for the family thanks to my (awesome) mom. These little treats will save me oodles of stress in the final weeks of IM Training. 

Jason's training went well also, with a successful (but painful) post-work long run Thursday night (which he had to finish on the treadmill once the sun went down), and some fun riding the following day. I have a feeling he won't be completing anymore of those post-work long runs. The days are shortening here, which means more workouts inside on week days. But that's alright. We only have four weeks left. 

We both can't help but think of one thing as we finish up the final weeks of training and look ahead to IMChoo: what will we do with ourselves once this journey has ended? This thought lingers. I especially wonder about workouts and how to do them post-Ironman. I mean, when something that was once your entire workout (like 20 laps in the pool) has become your warm-up, do you go back to it? We've imagined spending Sunday afternoons twiddling our thumbs, playing with kids, and continuing to make memories after September 28. I picture fun runs or exploratory bike rides versus don't-forget-to-eat-every-so-many-minutes kinds of rides. Regardless of what post-IMChoo looks like, one thing is for sure (as I paraphrase our trainer): we will never be the same. 

Three weeks, four days . . . and counting. 

Ahhhhh RECOVERY

The two-year-old managed to enjoy a Clif bar (or two)
 courtesy of SDTA during our weekend tri adventures.

Last week's plan had a purposeful recovery week. That happens every three weeks or so, depending on the nature of the trainer. We both welcomed it with open and weary arms. It couldn't have come at a better time--the last week of summer vacation for the six-year-old.

One good friend advised us to try to not think about anything Ironman related for the week, so we adhered to this advice and focused on the family more. Tuesday we took a day-trip to a bigger town for a "big" grocery shopping trip and some McDonald's love on the way home. Wednesday the kids and I soaked the sun in at the pool  (something we need to do far more often next summer). Thursday we visited the local children's museum in Brookings, a gem about an hour away that we will definitely return to. Friday the kids and I headed out to my parents' farm to spend some time with them out in their wide open space while Jason completed his big workout of the week. Saturday Jason spent some quality time with the kids, reaquainting them with important things like cicada shells and sidewalk chalk while I completed my big bike of the week. Sunday we all woke up early, piled into Ellie (the family vehicle), and did some SDTriNews work Troxell style by covering a race about an hour away. Amidst all of this, we had some workouts but thankfully nothing real intense--just things that kept us moving and reminding us of an obnoxiously big workout week the coming week.

I theorize that some other desperate parent at the Children's
Museum began to spell out help when her child (most likely
named Henry) took over. 

Recovery matters. A few things have changed since the beginning of Ironman training back in May. We turn the TV off and go to bed earlier. We stop drinking coffee a little earlier in the day. Our laundry pile has grown exponentially. Our fridge can never quite seem to hold enough food for the teenage-boy appetites we possess. And we tend to hug the kids just a little more.

I think the training may be rubbing off on the kids just a little too. Our four-year-old and six-year-old enjoy playing pretend games where they have different names and are different people. Lately they pretend to be friends visiting each other's house. I'm always the mom for just one of them. Otherwise, I'm "Miss Nikki." The four-year-old played the part of the visiting friend last night at supper. When I asked him where his parents were and how long he planned on staying, he said, "My mom is doing a triathlon for infinity days, so I'm going to be here infinity days," (because there's no number bigger than infinity according to his six-year-old sister.)

Not just infinity, buddy. Just five more weeks. Then we'll talk about infinity.

The Hardest Week (So Far)

We did it. We survived. Last week's plan began with the trainer's note of, "I'm punishing you this week, ha ha ha." I'm still not laughing, but I appreciate the hard week. And I appreciate surviving it.

We had a rough week here to be honest, one marked by niggles, discomfort, and difficult workouts, not to mention some real wrenches in our schedule that wreaked havoc on our mental states. Let me explain:

• Tuesday Jason came home from work walking rather gingerly. I could see the problem immediately: a back spasm of some sort. This kept him sidelined for a couple of days while he waited for that to calm down. On the same day I woke up with intense shoulder pain that kept me away from the pool and wrapped in ice for most of the rest of the week. 
• Wednesday (I think--the days are blurry from last week) we found out that because IMChoo's swim start is later than other IM races, the entire completion time limit is a bit shorter. Every swimmer still receives 2 hours and 20 minutes to swim, but athletes need to be off the bike still by 5:30 to continue in the race. So that basically means a shorter bike time period because we're getting in the water later than anticipated. I'm genuinely concerned about making the bike cutoff. 
• Thursday: we found out the local pool where we've done all our swim training since the algae took over the local lake will be closed the final three weeks of our training due to maintenance. 
• Friday: Jason completed a monster bike ride mostly indoors due to thunderstorms and then took his transition run outside. He survived. 
• Saturday: While Jason did some work for SDTriNews.com at a local sprint, I tackled my biggest ride so far of 80 miles outdoors. 
• Sunday: We both had our longest runs of training so far (and supposedly the longest we'll have to do but I'm skeptical regarding that promise). The legs felt a little odd, and the trainer promised me that this particular day the run would "be an education." So anytime I felt like a puddle of goo in the middle of a particularly humid day, I just tried to ask myself, "What am I supposed to be learning?" That helped. A little. 

In short, we survived. I read a great article called, "The 7 Habits of People With Remarkable Mental Toughness" at Business Insider last week, and I thought about that often, especially after receiving discouraging news regarding the cutoff times and the closing of the local pool. The elements of this article came into play repeatedly this week. When Jason's back acted up or when his run didn't go like he had hoped, what could he do? He could learn from it and move on but not dwell on it and draw discouragement from it. 

As I said, when I was out slogging through 18 miles in the heat on Sunday afternoon, I learned much. A few lessons in particular stand out: 

1. My body can always go just a little farther than I think. 
2. The discomfort will subside. 
3. Success depends on a support system. 

We had LOTS of help this week to help prepare us for Choo. I had one friend who rode the first 22 miles of my 80-mile ride with me. The same friend also acted as "home base" for me, providing me with a cold rag, ice water, and chocolate milk once I finished the ride. Jason had a friend who biked with him while he completed his t-run and then ran some with him while he did his big run. That same friend kept him company at the sprint tri and even took some pictures for SDTriNews.com. Fifty miles into my big ride I purposefully passed near the house of a friend who lives in the country, and she re-filled my water bottles with fresh, filtered water. And then with three miles left in the hardest run of the year, I stopped at another friend's house, and she refilled my bottle with ice and water (that 24 ounces was gone with a mile left--yep, it was that hot and humid). 

So, yeah, this was a challenging week. I think we both have a recovery week this week. I know I do, but I can't tell if Jason does nor not just by looking at his mileage. Sometimes the mileage just seems big no matter what. 

Six weeks left . . . 

Train, Parent, Rest, Repeat.

When the first line of a training plan begins with, "I'm going to punish you this week. Ha ha ha ha," a person has a reason to worry. Thankfully, I know our (sadistic) trainer has a (really weird) sense of humor. 

Last week Jason nailed every workout. I did not. And so this week I get to pay for that apparently. We both finished our long workouts despite an incredibly busy weekend. The weekend schedule looked something like this: Friday--Nikki woke up early, ran uber long and arrived home in time for Jason to swim at 11:30am. Saturday Jason and the six-year-old headed out to take pictures at a local race for SDTriNews.com while a sitter came to take care of the four and almost two-year-old and I rode my bike on the trainer in the basement for nearly six hours. Jason came home having hydrated all morning and completed his uber-long run in the late afternoon. Sunday Jason did his six-hour ride and transition run while I wrangled kids and visited family.

And that is a typical training weekend right now.

Then I received this week's plan.

I won't write it out in detail, but the long workouts are long (the longest run we'll do in training). If I've learned anything in training so far, it's to look at each workout one day at a time, and no more. Dwelling on the difficult does no one any good. But staying positive in the midst of even the most challenging circumstances, well, that can do a whole lot of good.

I read something pretty encouraging this week too worth sharing. I've been re-reading Elisabeth Eliot's book Keep a Quiet Heart. In one of her short chapters she says that courage is not the absence of fear. Courage means doing something even though we're afraid of it. I'll keep that one in my backpocket as race day draws near along with the verses she cites that go along with the concept of courage.

This week we did take a much-needed break from training and life by going to the fair. We tested our courage by riding questionable carnival rides with our very excited four and six-year-old (see pics) , petted some farm animals, and just soaked in a very beautiful day overall. The time away genuinely re-filled us both and gave us the oomph we needed for the next three difficult days of training and parenting.

So, that's life here. It's not a whole lot different than the other training weeks have been--hitting most of the workouts and trying to keep a handle on the family at the same time. To say this has been easy would be a complete lie. But it has forced us to grow as people, as a husband and wife, and as parents.

I fear life after IMChoo may end up being a little on the slow and dull order. But we can't focus on that yet. We have some work to do. :)

Seven weeks left . . .

53 days and Feeling Inspired

We have exactly 53 days until IMChoo. And quite frankly, this past week, we needed some inspiration. Thankfully, we found it.



We saw a training partner finish IM Boulder via live streaming this past Sunday. I had a hard time tearing my eyes away from the screen once he did finish. His story is one for the books (and quite frankly, not mine to tell), but in short, he began the walk/run regime the same time Jason did four years ago. He and Jason have trained together off and on. They both have lost a significant amount of weight and, in short, turned their lives completely around in the health department. Seeing him finish along with many, many normal-looking people brought tears to my eyes. The inspiration was palpable.

Ironman friends have given us much asked-for advice in this journey so far. Above and beyond it all, I remember one thing right now: trust your training.

On weeks like this one, where the trainer writes "One Big Week of Training" on the top of the plan, this thought keeps us moving forward. Quite frankly, when we received this week's plan on Sunday afternoon, we both felt a little overwhelmed. Shortly thereafter, we conducted the weekly training committee meeting (both committee members attended), and figured out how to fit life, kids, work, and training in the week. for me this meant a couple of 5am workouts and scheduled naps with the kids. For Mr. T. this meant some beefy swims in the evening immediately after getting home from work.

We always start the week with a plan. The end of the week will tell us if this week's meeting worked or not.

I also met a new friend and encourager this past week. I interviewed a recent two-time Ironman and quickly made a friend. This girl finished IMCanada on Sunday, July 28 (the same day I finished my first half). She had some great advice, and I found another person whose ear I can bend for the next 53 days.

So, we press on. We have to. Only 53 more days.

Operation Benchmark: the Chisago Lakes Triathlon

 We went. We saw. We conquered.

We had a huge weekend this past weekend. And I’m not prone to exaggerate, so you know we had an important weekend. This past Saturday morning we dropped our three smallest cheerleaders off at our friends’ house (thanks Matt and Amanda!), and we travelled to the promised land of triathlon to tackle some firsts: the first time we’ve both raced the same individual race, the first race of the season for Jason, and the first time I’ve tackled the half-iron distance (1.2-mile swim, 56-mile bike, 13.1-mile run). Meet the Chisago Lakes Triathlon. 

To say we had a successful weekend would be a serious understatement. We deemed this important for a couple of reasons. One, Jason needed to scratch the itch of racing. (He says the itch has since been sufficiently scratched.) I needed to “feel” a significantly longer race with all three disciplines put together. We also needed a sort of dress rehearsal for IM Choo, which is looming nearer and nearer (nine more weeks!).

So, what exactly made this so successful? First, we both survived an arguably gross open-water swim. The lake had thick patches of weeds to navigate through. It was the most bizarre swim I’ve ever encountered. I’d be stroking my way through the water when a tangled mass of foliage would wrap itself around an arm, leg, or even across my head. Memorable.

Secondly, we both had a pretty specific nutrition plan to follow on the bike which included getting in a sufficient amount of fluids and then taking in solid calories every 25-35 minutes. This is the first half-iron distance that Jason has had a concrete nutrition plan and stuck with it. Incidentally, neither one of us had gut issues or problems with cramping in this discipline. We had zero hydration issues, except that both of us lost bottles during bumpy spots on the bike course. I’m thinking Mr. T. is going to be revisiting our hydration set ups to see if we can do something to make bottles even more secure.

(Side note here: the weather was a factor today. More than once I thanked our lucky stars for where we live. We had both rain and wind to contend with on the bike—the weatherman forecasted gusts up to 25mph and a 60 percent chance of showers and thunderstorms. We had wind, but we both aren’t sure if it really blew that hard. Thankfully, because of our rural, wide-open spaces, we’ve both trained in windy conditions, and while the locals around us whined about the wind, we recognized the blessing of fairly consistent shelter belts that lined much of this course. And yes, it rained on the bike and some on the run. I’d call the weather interesting—it staved boredom off for me at least.)

Third, we both PR’d—meaning we both set personal records. Jason had his best time in three attempts at this particular race, and I now have a time to shoot for in the future.

Probably the best part of today is evident right now: no one ended up in the medical tent, and we’re driving home, fully coherent and only slightly sore. So, I guess the Yoda-trainer knows what he’s doing when he writes our plans.

As with any time that I have a significant amount of time alone, a myriad of thoughts go through my head. With today’s workout and race, I thought of all of the life lessons a person can gain from triathlon. Here are the lessons we learned today. Feel free to take them to the nth degree of philosophy or just take them literally.

• Keep moving forward.
• The pain will subside. It won’t last. Just fight through it.
• Race your pace.
• Smiles are contagious, and they make people feel better. Smile more. 
• Start at the beginning. Finish at the end.
• Reward yourself along the way.
• Wear sunscreen.
• Use a sufficient amount of anti-chafing agent.
• Thank your support crew. And be a support crew. We all need each other. 

Hold What You've Got While You've Got It

Carrie Tollefson, host of CTolle run, makes this race SO fun. 

She even makes us stragglers feel like rock stars. 

A friend asked me about our training this week and again asked how we're fitting the training in with family life.

I'm not going to lie. It's hard.

Really hard.

I want to say impossibly hard.

But I don't believe in impossible.

My friend gets it. Her husband is an Ironman. She's a runner. A genuine, former-Olympian runner. And she has two small children.

The question still has me thinking. Quite frankly, not a day goes by without me wondering how our training is affecting our family and if we're doing enough, pouring enough into our kids while we attempt to reach a really high goal.

I'm not champion triathlete or athlete in general. I've never been one. And I'll never pretend to be one. We're both these proud mid-packers who love participating in triathlon. So I've embraced this motto this year: I just do what I can with what's been given to me.

Lately I've been transferring this motto over to time as well. When I have an hour to do that key bike workout, I'm gonna do what I can with what's been given to me. When I have an afternoon with just me and the kids, I'm trying to do what I can with what's been given to me. Go to the pool. Bake some cookies. Practice transitions outside with 'em.

I'm pretty sure Mr. T. is in the same frame of mind. Actually, I believe he's had this frame of mind far before I came to the conclusion this past week. Yes, we still have a plan. Yes, we still follow it to the best of our abilities. But we're learning, as I've said before, to focus on just today, on the tasks at hand and the time we have, and the opportunity to hold onto what we've been given while we have it.

Enough philosophy for now. This week's training for me included a race and for Mr. T. included his most difficult bike workout yet. Friday Jason took his bike and several bottles of fuel up to Lake Cochrane, the closest place to us with some wicked hills and a clear lake. He completed his long bike on this hills, battling 30mph winds for a chunk of the time. To say he came home spent would be an understatement.

Saturday I completed another Olympic triathlon, the Outland Challenge. We've tried to keep our race schedule pretty sparse this year (IM has drained the racing budget), so I'm grateful for any opportunity to practice putting all three disciplines together. The swim was my fastest Oly swim yet, and even though I was at the end of the pack dragging themselves to shore, I was proud of how I felt and did. Not once did I find myself in the wrong place on the lake. Hooray for sighting! Demon vanquished. Kaboom.

The bike route on this particular race and the run took me on the same hills that Jason battled the day before. Thankfully, we just had a slight breeze, something fairly negligible in South Dakota. Really, the conditions couldn't have been more perfect for July. I finished near the end of the field of ten women in the Olympic distance, and I am so SO pleased with how I felt and with my times. And I think I'm ready for this next weekend.

Sunday we compete in the Chisago Lakes Half Ironman. Jason has done this race for the past two years, and he has often told me it's one of the best non-IM sanctioned races around. I'm looking forward to putting this distance behind me. Jason is looking forward to just another fun race.

Ten weeks (eeekk!!!) to IM Choo!

In the Beginning . . .

When I was a kid, I recall my dad's favorite words to my mom. He'd come into the house after a long day on a tractor, and he'd say, "Kathy, have I got a deal for you!" At this point Mom would mumble something about how Dad had spent too much time alone in the tractor.

That's how I feel after a long bike ride.

I think about many MANY things. And among them, this time, about my first triathlon, and then Jason's first triathlon. The beginning. So, here's how they went.

My first triathlon. I took it on because my best buddy Deb somehow convinced me we should both do this. Our excellent community center hosted a triathlon and also offered training plans and swim clinics, all written and run by the trainer who is now taking care of our IM plans, ironically. So, I signed up. I did not own a ridable bike. And I was a horrible swimmer.

I followed the plan to the best of my life-limiting ability because, after all, life with one child was hard (this makes me laugh now). Race day came, and I had the gear I needed for a first tri: a swim suit, a pair of running shorts, a jacket (because temps were in the 40s), running shoes, and a borrowed mountain bicycle. I swam the fastest 300 meters I'd ever swam in a pool. I biked against some pretty crappy wind for a few miles and then with it for the last few. In the last mile of the bike, the bike post on my borrowed bike began to loosen . . . and slowly creep down. By the time I was pedaling my last mile, the seat was resting on the frame. And my knees nearly bumped my chin with each pedal. I transitioned with constant shivers thanks to the still 40-ish degree temps, and I ran the first of 2.25 miles unable to feel my right foot.

And I vowed to never do another triathlon again.

Two years later Jason's first tri took place near Gary, South Dakota (population < 200). Lightening lit up the far away sky as the swim start began (yes, seriously), and so the kids and I opted to hang out in the van while he completed his most challenging leg. We totally missed his T1 and seeing him ride the bike, but we managed to climb out of the van and deal with the lingering rain to see him come back into T2. . . with his helmet on backward. I felt SO embarassed for him that I didn't want to tell him, not even once he had finished. But once he crossed the finish line with the biggest grin I've ever seen and had some fluids in him, I told him. His response: "Awesome!" The endorphin high had hit along with some perspective.

And he's done triathlon ever since.

The first one is always special. We've both done a handful of tris and road races since that time, but that first one will remain imprinted indelibly in both of our memories.

And so will Choo.

Right now training is going well. The first week of IM-specific training meant some creativity and persistence. We did some weird things. I rode my bike in the garage while the kids played in the driveway. And it worked. And after a rained out race on Saturday, we came home, and Jason got his nap in while the kids all napped, and I tackled my long ride in the most beautiful weather of the week. Jason dealt with his long run and a short ride on Sunday afternoon after I cranked out probably my most uncomfortable long run yet. I was not saying nice things about Ironman that day.

But we survived. As my dad says, we lived to see another day.

Only 11 more weeks!

Hello Summer

Well, this week, summer finally arrived. At least for a couple of days.

We had our regular week of workouts with the few regular ripples of interruptions in between--a foot cramp in the overly warm pool, a stomach ache from too many burgers on the fourth, and temps that felt like 40-some-odd degrees on Tuesday. Yep, July 1, mark it in the books. Jason went for a transition run after a great bike workout on the trainer, and he had to don the long sleeves.

Saturday and Sunday we had a couple of genuine treats in our training world: heat and additional training partners. Our Ironman-trainer guy happened to be visiting family in the area, so he and his equally studly wife took some time out of their busy schedules to do their workouts with us. The iron-couple brought temps in the high 80s along with some stiff wind. Hooray, resistance training.

We have the genuine blessing of having friends nearby who are willing to do at least a part of our workouts with us on a fairly regular basis. If we don't have someone running with us on the long runs, we typically have someone riding a mountain bike and hauling water. Again, we are so blessed.

Let me say this: we recognize that we will not have someone to race with us, to run beside us or bike behind us on race day, the support sure is nice to have now and makes it a whole lot more fun. And beside, I'm fairly certain we will not be completely alone in Chattanooga. After all, there are about 1500 other people signed up. Or something like that.

I also had a wake up call this week when I received my training plan Sunday. In bold letters at the top, it said, "Ironman Specific Training." Dude!? What have we been doing for the past eight weeks? The real just got a little more real. So . . . only 12 weeks left!

Cruddy Illnesses, a Flat Tire, and a Pseudo Camping Trip: Week 7 IMChoo Training

Training continued as normal this week with the regularly expected unexpected challenges.

We've learned to expect the unexpected.

The croup, or whatever virus that was that seized all three children throughout the past two weeks, finally made its way into adult world. And while we'd like to think we have superior immune systems, we do not. At least so far, one of us doesn't. Mr. T. put in his early-in-the-week workouts and then found himself basically paralyzed by the fatigue, headache, and voice-less sore throat condition that we saw in the minions.

And it sucked.

S'mores may have affected this week's long run.

This weekend also marked my family's annual camping trip. This year my siblings and parents opted to park their rigs about two miles from our house. And since the weather looked less than desirable (with a 70 percent chance of thunderstorms), we opted to leave our tent at home and just visit during the day and then sleep in our humble abode.

Because of the upcoming camping trip (can we even call it that), I opted to swap my workouts around so that my day off would fall on Saturday (big camping day) versus Wednesday (nothing's happening day). And it worked well until Thursday when I began a four-hour ride indoors, lost my short-fuse temper about something (I can't remember what it was now), and tried to finish my ride outside.

I learned a few important things from this experience:

1. Outdoor rides are mood lifters. From this point forward in training, whenever I can, I will ride outdoors.
2. No matter how peeved you are at your loved ones, do not act rashly.  In my case, that means do not go storming out with bike in hand but not the cell phone. (As I said, I still can't remember what quite ticked me off. I apologized when I returned, and all is back to its semi-peaceful state in Troxell land.)
3. Do not, ever, ride on Highway 19 south of Madison, South Dakota. Sharp rocks, high traffic, and narrow shoulders do not combine well, especially when said sharp rocks cause a cut in the sidewall of a tire.
4. Always carry your cell phone when you ride. I alluded to this earlier, but those more experienced than me tell me that I should always carry my cell phone in a plastic bag to eliminate the moisture issue from either sweat or rain.
5. PitStop is an ingenious product, and it works (if you do not have a cut in the sidewall of your tire).

Today hopefully marks the upswing of Jason's bug-of-death. He went for a run this afternoon and came home sufficiently sweaty, believing that maybe he eeked some of the bug out of his pores. I'm hopeful too.

SD Tri News has kept us really busy as well. In the midst of his cruddy cold, Jason covered a local sprint, and as a result, SD Tri News is up, running, and quite frankly, booming. We're so stoked to be a part of helping promote this sport we love in the state we love.

Upward and onward. We have about 13 weeks left until IM Choo, I think, but quite honestly, I'm losing track. We're just focusing on the here and now because that's all we can affect. And for me, that's a full night's sleep. Here's to hoping for a better week of training.

Croup, Puke, and Training

The Saddle and the Mileage. Photo ops were limited this week.

As age-group triathletes and aspiring ironmen of three children ages six and under, we find ourselves often with unique challenges to our quest for mid-pack domination.

This week was no different.

Thankfully, as I've said before, we work well together. Training went exceptionally well this week all things considered (read on). We have fallen into a rhythm that looks something like this:

• Monday: work, Jason comes home, Nikki swims long at night, Jason takes the day off (from working out)
• Tuesday: work. Nikki bikes and runs during kid rest time in the afternoon. Jason bikes and runs with his faithful biking buddy Tom. 
• Wednesday: work. Nikki takes the day off from working out. Jason swims long at night after he gets home from work. 
• Thursday: work. Nikki bikes and runs during the kids' rest time. Jason bikes and runs at night, usually alone. 
• Friday: two long work outs (one of us will bike and the other one swims)
• Saturday: two long work outs (one of us will swim, and the other one will bike) 
• Sunday: Sunday, funday, long-runday. We take turns running or get a sitter and tackle our beastly runs simultaneously. 

This past week had the makings of following the schedule fairly well. We hit just about every workout without a hitch until Wednesday night. Jason went in for his regular swim and came home a little early. When I asked him about it, he mentioned he only got two thirds of the swim done. And then he said, "I think you better sit down for this story." He went on to share how a bird managed to find its way into our local community center and then poop in the pool. Yep. Poop. And that apparently shut down his swim since life guards told him basically to swim at his own risk. Yep. Poop. If it isn't coming from the kids, it's hitting us from somewhere else. 

Thursday night the four-year-old began showing signs of croup. Friday, with Jason's encouragement, I did my long swim during the local pool's noon swim time, tucking it in between gymnastics and swimming lessons in the morning for the six-year-old, and a doctor's appointment for our croup victim. Jason had a "splash and dash that day," so after naptime we packed up the kids (including the croupy one because he sounded better by then), and the kids and I enjoyed the beach while Jason did lap after lap around our line of buoys. Then he ran home, and we met him. And we were all wiped out. 

I had glorious plans of an early bedtime and an early wake up, with the hope of finishing my bike ride by 11am. At 1:30am the now-medicated croup victim arrived in our room to inform us he had thrown up on his bed and needed assistance. I spent the rest of the night on the couch keeping him company. 

My Saturday long ride, which was supposed to begin at 7am, began closer to 9am. Mr. Wonderful stayed home with the minions, and about an hour after I returned in the early afternoon, he took off on his run (in our then 80+degree heat). The result at the end of the day wasn't pretty, but it was done. Sunday did not look much different except Saturday night Jason took his turn on the couch monitoring a water-situation in the basement thanks to the deluge of rain we've been receiving on a nightly basis lately (seriously--70 points of rain in a half hour--eek). Today Jason put in a five-hour century ride on the trainer (he's an animal), and I engaged in some mental training with a long run in our increasingly warmer temperatures. 

And that, folks, is how we're training now. Some people might find reading about it downright boring (I know I would if I didn't care much about triathlon). A new friend of mine who rode nearly two hours with me Saturday just wondered how we're training, both of us, at the same time. My response? I'm not sure. I just go day by day right now. 

Perspective matters, I suppose. We have people around us who are dealing with real problems--a hospitalized infant, the loss of a parent, teenagers. So all I can think when I examine our lives right now is this: if the biggest problem we have right now is who's going to get to the ice bath first, we don't really have any problems. Including the elusive bird (which, rumor has it, is still in the facility). 

Focus

Food that doubles as a mustache has to taste good.

I am scatterbrained. I forget things that matter (like picking my vehicle-less husband up at work for his lunch break last week, leaving him stranded and wondering exactly where his wife was) and remember things that do not (I can tell you the birth month of every single one of my elementary school classmates--I think this memory has something to do with birthday treats at school).

Triathlon has thus assisted me greatly in this deficit. It requires some focus. On the days I'm not focused on what I'm doing, I melt into a puddle of "when-are-we-gonna-get-this-done" mode. And, let's be honest, it's ugly.

So yesterday, as I stressed out over how we'll complete our training this week, and the next week, and how we'll complete an Ironman in a few months, I remembered one major rule of triathlon: focus on the now. Focus on today's tasks. Today's workouts. Today.

So, I did.

God bless the man who fathers our kids and sticks with me throughout these little meltdowns.

We trained fairly consistently this week despite an inconsistent schedule. Planning really matters. For example, yesterday (Happy Father's Day, Jason!) we woke up, went to church, came home, ate lunch, and then got to work.

Focus.

During naptime for the one-year-old, I took my bike outside and battled our famous South Dakota gusts for a couple of hours while Jason worked hard on the trainer in the basement. Once I arrived home, he had nearly completed his workout. I transitioned into non-biking clothes, convinced the kids to clean up their toys, folded a load of laundry, and watched Jason transition from the bike to a run. He jogged a few miles down to the State Park while I packed up the kids, honked at him as I passed him, and watched our kids master the playground at said State Park. He joined us a few minutes later, accomplished and smiling.

All in all, we felt pretty darn proud for finding a way to fit in two big workouts between the two of us in an afternoon. And our kids are no worse for the wear. Then we transitioned one more time into some family time which included a picnic and rock climbing at the Falls of Sioux Falls. It was a very good Father's Day.

We also began an even closer focus on our nutrition. Our buddy, whom we casually dub "IronMike," changed up his nutrition plan about a month ago, and quite frankly, Mike has never looked healthier or stronger. And he says he feels great. So we consulted with the man, spent a chunk of our anniversary "date" on Friday afternoon in the produce section of the grocery store, and came home with a cooler full of fresh produce and a few bags of grain, beans, and other pantry staples. Thankfully, our kids like fruits and veggies too. Focus.

This week also marked a pretty important week in the world of the Troxells and triathlon. We've been visiting with some good friends lately, brainstorming a way we can help promote this great sport in this great state. So after much consideration and fat-chewing, we launched SD Tri News on Friday. We plan on posting news about triathlon in South Dakota as well as training and nutrition advice and basically anything triathlon related in our state. We've had a great time setting up the site and making contacts so far. And we welcome story ideas and triathlon connections.

IronMan training along with family life and work is definitely a challenge. However, I have to say, I'm pretty sure that between our sit-down-on-our-rear jobs and our never-sit-still kids, life's activities save us from a) taking Ironman too seriously and b) injuries. Seriously.When we finish respective workouts and all our kids want is a snack or some milk or someone to play with, the constant movement to keep up with them prevents lactic acid from building up. And they also remind us that while I may think my run was awesome, they're just glad I can find them some more milk.

Speaking of which, naptime is over. Time to get back to work.

15 weeks till IMChoo!

A Very Busy Week . . . With Training On Top

We have fantastic training routes. Go SD!

Vacation Bible School. It's a staple in many churches in our community. At our church it mimics camp for the kids. And it's a blast. It takes place from 5:30-8:30 every night, and so for us, that ,means 4:45-9:15 every night. When we add that in with summer gymnastics the six-year-old attends twice a week at 8am along with a week of heavy training, and this week had the makings of a train wreck.

Thankfully we work well together. 

I would've expected the Nazi Kona-experienced trainer to be super nice to me the week after the Olympic tri in the land of 10,000 triathlons. But no. I believe my plan for the week said something like, "This will be hard, but get over it." Or, as Mr. T. likes to say to everyone in the house (including the one-year-old), "Suck it up, Buttercup." 

So we did. 

Here are some of the week's highlights (previous blogging had revealed my love for bullet points--forgive me): 

• Conquering a key bike workout during the kids' rest time on Tuesday. This is a big deal for me since rest time was the only time the kids didn't need attention other than early in the morning or very late at night (post 9:30pm). I did not feel like biking. I did it anyway. And, like every other workout, I did not regret it. 
• Jason's foot feels good. Hooray. He said nothing about it all week, and when I asked him about it yesterday, he said it feels fine. 
• Managing two big bike workouts in the house. Friday I took off for my longest ride yet, and this time God was my only companion. The best part of the ride took place about an hour from home when I crested a hill and saw Ellie, our family vehicle, coming towards me. Mr. T. had all three kids in tow (he had no choice) and a big jug of ice water. That was just . . . nice. (see two points up for Jason's ride info)
• Conquering the long ride alone. As I pedaled solo for four hours (my longest ride yet), I had many a brainstorm. But among the thoughts, I realized how blessed we are to live in such a great area to train and to have such beautiful weather that day for training. I had just enough cars pass me that I did not feel completely alone, but I really did not deal with any traffic per say. I had a few nice rollers on the ride as well. The picture above doesn't really do the view justice. 
• Jason and then his buddy Mike riding for four hours in the basement because of uber cruddy weather on Saturday afternoon. I'd rather ride twice as long outside any day than inside. Any day. These two are animals. 
• Jason waking up at the crack of dawn (which is very early here) on Sunday to complete a 12-miler with his buddy Steve. And then me taking on the same distance with my running pal, Lori, later in the day. And then Jason swimming for 30 minutes while the kids and I played on the beach later in the day . . . in the rain. Yeah, that was a big day. 

Our support system keeps us going. I've been writing this blog (with Jason's critical input) to help us remember this year more than anything. In the last couple of weeks I discovered a few people who actually read it (bless you for going on this journey with us and tolerating our rambling). Two different people have told us already they'd be willing to watch our (awesome) kids when we'd like to train together. I have yet to take them up on it, but they're on my list of go-to people. Jason has a regular biking buddy that he spins with indoors every Tuesday night. We both have regular go-to people for running companions and biking buddies. I just feel so grateful for the people we have to run with, ride with, and recover with. We are so blessed. 

Training was hard this week, no doubt. But now that we take a glance back on the other side of it, it encourages us to see what we can do. Maybe, just maybe, we CAN do Nooga. We'll find out in 16 weeks. 

Conquer Yourself

The Race Director said to "conquer yourself."
This is what the pre-conquer-yourself face looks like. 

Well, week 3 of IM training came and went and with it we had our first “big” measuring stick and one of our more challenging weeks of  “outside” influences.  The week started off hectic and found us both having to adjust our training due to outside circumstances.  Nikki works full time plus as a teacher and since classes has ended she spent some SERIOUS time grading papers and getting everything wrapped up for the school year.  Because of this she missed a few workouts and did a pretty good job of not stressing too much about it.  All the long days/nights of grading were not ideal for her as she had an Olympic distance triathlon on the schedule for the weekend. More on that in a bit.

I on the other hand spent a good portion of my week dealing with a self-inflicted stupidity injury.  Last weekend we both got in our first open water swims of the season, nothing intense, but enough to get the wetsuits on and give ‘em a go.  When I was almost done with my time in the water, I got out and wanted to practice a running beach start.  I wanted to document our semi-craziness of being in the lake so “early” in the season so I had Nik go a ways out to the side to get a picture or two.  In the interest of photographic excellence, I moved way over to the side of the beach forgetting that the sandy lake floor only stretched so far.  Long story made short, I stepped on a rock while running out and spent the better part of the week with a very sore and swollen foot.  While wondering if I had done some serious damage, I ended up missing some workouts or changing the intensity of them in order to not exact too much pain on the foot.  Happy ending for me as it seems to be all better now.  Lesson learned!

The other craziness of the week was a result of us (Nikki) having her first Olympic Tri in three years scheduled for the weekend.  Last fall, after learning we had gained entry to IMChoo we selected some races to do that would A) be a lot of fun and B) be great measuring sticks as to where we were at with our training.  The Buffalo Olympic Triathlon in Buffalo, MN was first on tap this year.  Trying to get through the week’s obligations and get all ready for a road trip on the weekend was interesting.  To top it off, Nik also raced the bike leg as part of a team for our local sprint triathlon on Saturday morning before we headed to paradise…better known to some as Minnesota.  I participated in this triathlon last year as a tune-up for IM 70.3 Kansas and LOVED it.  Minnesota does triathlon right.  No other way to put it.  If you want to race in a well organized, heavily participated, awesomely run event just head to the land of 10,000 triathlons….err lakes.  Anyway, here is my non-biased outsider race report of the race!!

The conditions: Rain. The family endured rain at home during the local (lesser) tri, and we continued to read the forecast for heavy rains and flash flood watches in the area of the (greater) Minnesota tri. The forecast did not disappoint. Rain fell until about 10 minutes before the swim start, abated for a while, and then returned.

The SWIM.  Neither of us like swimming.  We both struggle with it and spend countless hours trying to get better with seemingly little progress.  That said it is a necessary evil and we endure it with determination. As mentioned, we have only had one 20-30 minute open water swim session so far.  Race morning came and Nik was ready.  The swim went okay for her: some sighting issues that she is working on caused the swim to maybe be closer to a half-iron distance swim than an Olympic but she got it done!

The BIKE.  This was a great test for Nik. She had spent some time worried about where she was at with her biking speed/ability.  On a very wet course with quite a few rollers, she hammered out a respectable bike leg.  ‘Lil Red as we call her steed performed flawlessly, and 25 miles later a smiling Nikki came zipping into T2.

Everyone was glad Mom was done. 

The RUN.  Another great test as Nik had not spent much time doing any speedwork or race-paced running as of yet.  She had absolutely no idea what to expect coming off the bike, so this was a big time indicator of her training.  I have to be honest here.  She crushed it.  The shoes were smoking/begging for mercy.  With a big smile on her face as she ran by us I could tell that she was feeling good and moving fast.  At this point of the race the kids and I had to head back to the vehicle as the rain started up again.  Shortly hereafter a tired and conquering heroine came walking back to the vehicle, wheeling the trusty steed and leaning forward a little from the AWESOME finisher medal she had earned.

In summary:  The week/weekend was a family effort.  Nik did the racing, but it took all of us, kiddos included to make it a successful and enjoyable weekend.  We both are feeling pretty good about where we are at with our training at this point in the game.  Yes, we have work to do but there always will be.  We have learned over the years of participating in this sport that it isn’t about speed or competition or time.  For us it is ALL about conquering ourselves. 

Next week will hopefully have the regular composer back in the saddle.  Another big week of training lies ahead and we can’t wait to see what adventures it will bring along with it!  Until next time- train safe and train smart!!

Nikki's Note: Jason forgot to mention we celebrated our fifteenth wedding anniversary in the midst of the busy training (and injury-recovery) week. Mr. Wonderful and I checked out the local scenery Troxell style: with me running 10+ miles and him playing mule, carrying water and other necessities on the bike. Fifteen years ago I never would've imagined we'd be celebrating any anniversaries in this fashion. I wouldn't have it any other way. I can't imagine what we'll be doing in another fifteen years. I love this guy.