The Problem with the Taper

Road Trip Day # 7 - OK, so I totally lied.  I still feel like a slug.  Or, maybe, a better description is that of a big, fat, doughy ball of out-of-shape flesh.  Of course, nothing could be further from the truth.  I have been actively training for Ironman since February, after all.  It's just that this tapering and carbo-loading thing is messing with my mind.  After being so active for so long, and becoming accustomed to training for several hours every day, this self-imposed state of rest is disconcerting.  I already feel thoroughly out of shape, which is not exactly ideal, considering how quickly this race is approaching.  I'm trying to make the best of it, though.  (I know, I know.  Poor me.)  I guess there could be worse things than hanging out with old friends, cooking meals together, and relaxing in a mountainside condo, so I really should stop my moaning.  One more day until IMC.  I hope I'm ready for this...

Ready or Not

Road-trip Day #5 - I may be dirty, smelly, and vaguely reminiscent of the patchouli-laden hippies that seem to populate Vancouver Island, but at least I'm feeling less sluggish. After a couple of days tucked into the wilderness, with some trail runs and hikes under my belt, I'm beginning to feel a little more like myself.

Vancouver Island was everything I imagined it to be; the exact portrait of the Pacific Northwest conjured in my imagination. Victoria proved to be a quaint city, exuding an old-world vibe one doesn't get back home, with it's architecture of centuries past. I wish we had been able to spend more than a couple of hours there, as it would have been an intriguing area to explore, but the southern portion of the island was calling us. So, we ate, stocked our groceries, and headed for less-populated shores. The drive to China Beach in Juan del Fuca Provincial Park took much longer than expected, along the narrow, winding, rural roads, but it was worth the trek. The further south we ventured, the more rugged the wilderness became. Except for some houses dotting the coastline, and the occasional roadside cafe, there was no civilization to speak of, just old-growth forests and rocky beaches. I honestly don't think you could get more quintessential Pacific Northwest than this. The pine trees towered at least one hundred feet overhead, majestic in their presence alone. The green mosses and ferns covering the forest floor only further lent to the sense of mystique, like we were walking into a storybook rendition of a rainforest. It was all so rugged and beautiful in a way that made me want to get lost there forever. This abject beauty did not come without a price, though, as it was quite a bit colder than expected. Even in the supposed heat of August, the ocean mist would role in and chill us to the bone. I guess that's a small penance for such surreal surroundings, though.

Today, we're back on the ferry and returning to the mainland. Our next stop is Whistler, the true purpose for the trip. While I'm excited for the luxury of the condo, and to spend some time with friends, I'm also keenly aware that this signals that Ironman is nearly here. I'm trying to keep my nerves at bay, and focus only on the good, but it's tough to do when Sunday is approaching so quickly. I just have to remind myself that it is only one day, and I've been preparing for it since February. Ready or not, here it comes.

Oh Canada!

Road-trip Day #3, and I feel like a slug. For two days now, we've been on the road for more than twelve hours a stretch. We've subsisted on fast food and junk, as there aren't many nutritional options in the middle of nowhere. And any form of exercise has been out of the question; we've been too focussed on making good travel time for any form of leisure. I'm not sure if this is the best pre-race prep, but I guess that's how it goes.

We finally crossed the Canadian border last night and made it to our campsite on Porteau Cove in pitch black. The beauty of the coastline was lost on us as we navigated the winding Sea-to-Sky Highway. All we could see was the precarious road ahead and the infinite darkness around. This morning was a different story, though. We woke to a misty Pacific Northwest morning, with the fog unfurling from the mountains into the sea below. It was a sight for sore eyes, and a welcome reminder of why we drove so far.

Thankfully, the worst of the traveling is now behind us. Today, we're hopping a ferry that will take us from the mainland to Vancouver Island. Once there, we'll hit up the city of Victoria for a proper lunch and some microbrews before heading further south to Juan de Fuca Provincial Park and China Beach for some more camping and, finally, a touch of relaxing. I don't think I've ever been more ready for the mainstay of a vacation to begin...

Whistler or Bust

Well, here we go. My training is complete. There's nothing left to do. At this point, I will either sink or swim come next Saturday. (Frighteningly, that's a very literal interpretation of what could happen.) So, we packed our gear and hit the road early this morning. Our final destination: Whistler, British Columbia. Today, we'll be happy to make it to Boise. Right now, we're somewhere in the flat, never-ending grasslands of Wyoming, wishing for even the slightest change of scenery. Our road-trip has officially begun, and we have countless hours of driving ahead. Even though this first stretch is tedious and threatens to be mind-numbingly boring, I'm thrilled for our vacation to begin. I've been planning, plotting, and researching for this all summer, and am excited to see my efforts finally come to fruition. Besides, I need to focus on how much fun this trip is going to be, rather than how truly terrified of Ironman I am. So, for now, I'm pushing all race thoughts as far to the periphery of my mind as possible and am treating this like any other vacation. I'm looking forward to exploring the Pacific Northwest, a region in which I've not previously ventured. I'm looking forward to seafood dinners and days on the beach. Most importantly, I'm looking forward to finally having some time to unwind. So, let another adventure begin!

An Iron-Clad Summer

I remember the good old days, when running a marathon meant I got a little time off.  I remember a time when I got to kick back, relax, and enjoy the time it took for my fatigued legs to recover from the grueling 26.2.  But, this time around, no such luck.  I quickly learned that, when one is training for an Ironman event, "time off" does not exist.

So, after the marathon, I jumped right back into training.  My coach was kind enough to grant me a little bit of recovery time, in that I did not have to run immediately post-race, but everything else was fair game.  Thus, I was back in the pool three days after completing Utah Valley, and back on the bike one day thereafter.  In fact, since the marathon, and my last post, I've participated in two Olympic-distance triathlons, one Century ride, and have spent countless hours on the bike, in the pool, and pounding the pavement.  It seems as though my entire life revolves around Ironman.  When I'm not working, I'm training.  I leave the house before dawn most weekend mornings, and don't return until late afternoon, exhausted and chaffed.  My social life has disappeared.  My husband feels abandoned.  I've become an absentee friend.  This is the summer of Ironman; everything else had had to take second place.

When I started this training, I had plans to write weekly updates to document my training progress.  But, as this summer and my training have progressed, I've realized that: 1) I'm just too tired to write, and 2) there isn't much to write about.  Let's be honest, you all would get very bored very quickly reading detailed descriptions of each and every training ride.  No one needs to read multiple entries on how tiring riding 90+ miles is, how my bum is bruised from all the time in the saddle, and how I'm beginning to despise every form of energy food.  Because that's pretty much how I can sum up my training thus far.

That being said, I'm also impressed with how well my body is holding up.  I haven't been taken out by any strange illness.  I haven't gotten shin splints, or stress fractures, or any of the old injuries I suffered from in my early days of distance running.  My only complaint is that my left toes keep popping out of joint, but with a little help from my amazing chiropractor, Joseph Hummell, and Denver Community Acupuncture, I'm keeping the pain at bay.   I'm not losing massive amounts of weight, and think I have my nutrition fairly well dialed-in.  And, even though my muscles are constantly fatigued, I can tell that my body is becoming stronger and my endurance is improving.  As nervous as I am about the actual event, I think my body just may be blossoming into Ironman material.

Now, I'm less than four weeks away from the event, so the worst of the training is behind me.  Of course, the 140.6 grueling miles of race day still looms in my near future, but I think I'm ready for it.  All of the time I've put into training haven't been for naught.  Each and every workout has been carefully planned to prepare me for race day.  So, I just need to tough it out a little longer.  My chance to prove that I  am an Ironman will be here before I know it.