Tag Archives: triathlon

RTT Week 3; plus – a new triathlete is formed!

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It’s going to be a beautiful week in Victoria, and I’ve had a lot of interest in Running for the Truly Terrified (RTT). For the past two weeks I’ve been joined by Scott and Derek. This week my hairdresser Marion says she wants to come with her friend, and a couple of other people on Twitter have expressed an interest as well.

I volunteered on the run course at the Victoria Youth Triathlon this morning where I ran with a little girl “K” to get her to the finish line. K had a good race, except when she came off the bike for lap 1 of the run her stomach started to hurt – bad. Through tears, she insisted she was DONE. I took her off the course to the finish area where she had a bit of juice and some bread. We waited for her mom who – I realized as soon as she arrived – was my friend Cathy from Twitter!

Soon after K saw her mom she started crying again – she wanted to get back on the course and finish her race. Not finishing is worse than finishing in pain – I know that feeling — that’s the spirit of a strong, determined young woman!

I took her back to my station where she had left off and said “When you make it back here to start lap 2 I’ll run the rest of the way with you — if you want.”

Sure enough (and sooner than I expected) K came roaring around the corner toward my station for lap 2. “Do you want me to come with you to the end?” I said as she whizzed by. She slowed a bit and said “Yes,” so I took off my jacket and brought her all the way around, cheering her the whole way, encouraging her to keep going. Cathy was in tears when she saw her little girl finish, and she was even more surprised to see me right there with her.

“I can’t believe you ran with her, thank you so much!” she said, over and over again, giving me a big hug. Or two or three.

For me it was no big deal, or so I thought. I had been a bit bored, standing around waiting for runners from 7 am until noon, even though my own daughter was with me and we always have a great time volunteering at races. I was happy to run a bit and get the blood going.

Except that, when I jogged back to my station where my daughter was still monitoring the run course, I found myself in tears as well. And here I am, again in tears as I write this. I was so proud and honoured to be able to help someone achieve her goal, even after all seemed lost. Everyone is an athlete who shows up, day after day, race after race, and does their best. Everyone is a hero who digs down real deep and finds the courage and the heart to cross that finish line, no matter whether they’re first or dead last.

I remembered what I told K after she finished: “This is yours, all yours. You finished this race, you are a triathlete and no one will ever be able to take it away from you, ever.”

I hope she’s as proud as I am of her.

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Tri of Compassion

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It’s time to write this post. I’ve got something to tell you and something to ask of you.

(I’m inspired by Karen over at Ispuddle.com to finally get around to writing this post. She is brilliant and honest and matter of fact. If she can talk about placentas, then I can talk about anything.)

I signed up for a triathlon on July 5. It’s only a week away. I’ve been avoiding it, but I guess I have to start thinking about it now.

Now I know what you’re thinking – “this woman is truly mad” – but it’s only a little one! Laps in pool (not lake) – 20. Bike ride – 19 K. Run – 5 K. Easy peezy!

What’s most important about it is – it’s the Tri of Compassion in support of the Victoria Sexual Assault Centre. Now, I haven’t had personal dealings with the Victoria Sexual Assault Centre, but I do know such centres are very, very important.

And this is very hard for me to talk about – because sexual abuse is so last century and overdone and ho hum not a big deal anymore and why do we have to keep hearing about it anyway? And because yes, I’m a survivor both of childhood sexual abuse and date rape and it was a long time ago and blah blah it doesn’t define me any more. The only way out is through and sometimes ‘through’ is a real bitch, but it beats the alternative (which would be wanton self-destruction – a strategy I tried tentatively to deploy a few times and have now rejected, not without much collateral damage about which I am truly sorry). No need to feel sorry for me or shocked or solicitous. The fact that you’re reading about it on my blog means when I see you I don’t have to endure the awkward pause where you try to find the right thing to say, and I try and decide how to rescue you from your awkwardness. For the record, simply say: “I read your blog. I’m sorry you had to go through that, it must have been difficult” then let it go. Tell a joke. Give a hug, whatever. Life goes on.

Still and all, it took a long time and a lot of therapy for me to get to this place of health and contentment and modest career success. That’s not where a lot of people are. There are some still in the throes of self-blame, hurt, shame, guilt and self destruction. This thing that happened is still the centre of their universe. Sexual assault centres are there to show the way through. They’re not into awkward silences; they listen, share knowledge, share grief and pain, in a safe place.

Oh – details? Hm – tough one. In a nutshell – first from age 6-14 or so there was my stepfather *spit*. Eventually, when we finally got up the nerve to go to the police and go through with the trial when I was in my late 20s (second hardest thing I’ve ever had to do) ee ended up in jail for a couple of years. Second, my first boyfriend at age 16 *spit*. I said no about 10 times but he was on the wrestling team. It was in his parents basement. I was so ashamed, and of course I couldn’t tell my parents or anyone. He’ll rot in a hell of his own making where he belongs, and I’m at peace with that.

So it would really mean a lot to me if you’d go to this link and donate to my Triathlon of Compassion, it is my way of paying it forward.

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Sport sponsorship for the rest of us?

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Here’s an idea – please tell me if it’s been done before: why don’t more sports companies sponsor individual run-of-the-mill non-elite average athletes?

I don’t mean picking someone with talent and paying them to do their sport full-time, with a phalanx of coaches, physiotherapists and sport psychologists.

I mean picking somebody who is passionate and committed – but otherwise ordinary – and providing them with more resources to achieve their goals in return for some participation in a marketing campaign.

For instance: a completely average weekend warrior, consistent 10a or 10b climber with a job and a mortgage and maybe a coupla kids – gets a rope and some pieces of pro and some shoes and a new harness and the marketing campaign (including broadcast, print, social and earned media) follows them on their way to their objective for the year – whether it’s sending a 10c lead in Joshua Tree or a multi-day technical scramble in the Rockies.

Another example: a mid- or back-of-the-pack runner gets shoes, gear, entry fees, clinics paid for the duration of the contract in return for their story and for the occasional shill for the manufacturer.

This would be different from your run-of-the-mill “send us your story and we’ll draw from a hat” contest – it would be a complete sponsorship with pretty much all that entails – contracts and all. Not that I really know all that sponsorship of this type entails, I’m just blue-skying here.

The selling hook is not that these athletes will ever be able to set a world record at the Kona Ironman, or bag a first ascent of and epic climb – or even that they would qualify for Boston Marathon. The selling proposition is the sport equivalent of the Joe-the-Plumber phenomenon without the politics.

The selling hook is – these people are you and I. They have family and jobs and set modest (to some) stretch goals. They get blisters and they give up parties on nights before long runs and they sometimes leave their families to train, then are too tired to haul out the BBQ when they get home. They know they’ll never be Lynn Hill or Lori Bowden (and I’m not for a moment suggesting sports companies should not sponsor these athletes!) – but they are inspiring nevertheless.

The little guys can sell sports gear too you know.

04.12.09

Photo by zingersb

And just in case anyone at Mammut, FiveTen, Sugoi, New Balance, Patagonia, Mountain Hard Wear, Kelty, or Lululemon is really interested in this idea, I’m – er – available – ahem! Just email me here.

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My new hero is Charlie Plaskon

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“I have it embedded in my head that I have what I need to survive and that is that. You can’t focus on what you don’t have because you’re never gonna have it. Why don’t you focus on a way to perform and be a responsible person in society and leave it at that?” – Charlie Plaskon

Charlie Plaskon  is a blind 64-year old grandfather who finished the 2007 Ironman in Kona, Hawaii. I just watched the official Ford Ironman World Championship video and his was the most inspiring story in it (you can see an interview with him here).

As I watched this guy – and others – cross the finish line so triumphantly, I thought for the first time in weeks how abundant life is for me. I have every advantage: a steady, well-paying job, my health, my looks, wonderful family and friends, and I live in one of the most beautiful, safe cities in the world.

I also cried – hard – at the point in the Ironman 2007 video where the Japanese schoolteacher was turned away from the marathon because she didn’t finish the bike portion by the cut off time – she was 3 seconds too late. What agony, to work so hard in searing heat from 7 am to 5:30 pm only to be turned away from completing your goal. I hope she tried it again in 2008 or this year.

Hmm … maybe it’s time to get back in the pool and work on my swim stroke …..

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Marathoner's Torture Series #3 – 3 lame – and 4 great – sacrifices of a marathon runner

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Marathon training is consistent, disciplined and only for the truly motivated, or bat s**t crazy. I haven’t decided which camp I’m in. Here are some lame and not-so-lame things marathon runners give up in their quest for the finisher’s medal:

✘ A social life. Who can stay up past ten when they do five or more hard workouts a week lasting an hour or more each? Parents of small children beg off parties at midnight, laughing about how they magically turn back into moms and dads at the stroke of 12. Marathoners start yawning at 9 pm. “I just hate to go, but I’ve got a 15 K with two 5 K -pace pick-ups tomorrow morning,” while their orphaned friends say “huh” and pour another drink. Speaking of drink –

✘ Fine wine and spirits. They’re dehydrating. More than one and you’re headachy and your run the next day sucks (if you’re a lightweight like me that is). They contain too much sugar and your body needs good calories. Stay away if you know what’s “good” for you dammit! Speaking of which —

✘ Feeling full. Crikey! Are all marathoners hungry all the time? I once worked with an economist who was an ultra-triathlete. That means he did two or three Ironman-distance triathlons – back-to-back, all at once. Now that’s definitely in the category of bats**t crazy. If anyone brought any food – be it donuts, cookies, rice cakes, carob-coated seaweed clusters, thawed out frozen hamburger patties that had been sitting in the freezer too long and microwaved to soggy goodness, I mean anything – he’d literally leap over his desk and be first in line. I’m not that bad. I bring 3 healthy mini-meals to work every day, otherwise every two hours I’d be heading to Timmy’s across the street for a crueler. Which leads me to —

✔ Excess weight. This only works if you watch your nutrition. There are many marathon runners of all shapes and sizes. I lost that extra ten pounds I’ve put on in the last three years by dedicating myself to bootcamp-style workouts with Megan for twelve weeks and sticking to good eating habits – that was mostly before I started training for the marathon.

✔ New friends! People are still flocking to sign up for training clinics at shoe stores everywhere. There is a huge community of runners out there who train together, socialize together and travel together to various races across the world. I did a Google search for “running tourism” and came up with over 10 pages of entries: I found a recent Canadian article on the subject.

✔ Feeling bloated, crappy and blah People who exercise regularly have more energy, better sex lives, yada yada. You’ve all heard it before, and it’s true – to a point. After a run that lasts more than 1.5 hours, I’m a write-off the rest of the day. Naps are my friend! Otherwise, I have fewer bouts of vague achies and sickies than I did as a less active person. That’s also due to another great loss –

✔ Stress. This is true to a point as well. While exercise makes you stronger, more relaxed, lowers blood pressure and helps get rid of the bad stress hormones plaguing your bloodstream – once the mileage piles up, the reverse can happen to a marathon runner. Or, as my massage therapist  (Duane of Duane’s House of Pain infamy) once quipped:

“Once you cross the 15-or-20 mile a week threshold, you’re not running for your health anymore, you’re putting extra stress on your body you have to deal with.”

And with that, I must go ice my feet …

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Marathoners’ Torture #1: 10-step guide for bathing in ice.

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Running is torture on feet, so is wearing high-heeled shoes at work all day. I’ve been through months of recovery for plantar fasciitis and am determined not to go there again, but equally determined to keep running and to wear pretty shoes. I’m my podiatrist’s nightmare.

Here is my 10-step evening ritual designed to keep me on my feet.
What you’ll need:

  • hot tea,
  • your favourite comfy chair and blanket,
  • a fluffy towel,
  • your favourite TV show (or your mobile device or laptop),
  • a basin,
  • two trays of ice cubes,
  • a watch or timer,
  • fortitude.
  • Optional: a glass of wine, scotch or tequila.

What you’ll do:

  1. Make tea and have it ready next to your comfy chair, blanket and timer.
  2. Turn on your favourite TV show. Make sure it’s something absorbing like Battlestar Galactica or Dexter. Alternatively, get out your mobile device or laptop and log in to Twitter.
  3. Fill the basin only to about 3-5 centimetres (1 to 1-and-a-half inches) of cold water.
  4. Place basin, trays of ice cubes next to comfy chair.
  5. Sit with feet bare and blanket over legs. Set stopwatch or timer for about 6 minutes. (You might want to start out with 2 or 3 minutes).
  6. Take a deep breath.
  7. Plunge feet into cold water.
  8. Immediately dump the two trays of ice cubes into the water around your feet. Try not to howl, it will scare your family and pets.
  9. Keep breathing! Keep your feet in there! Google your exes, Tweet your pain, fantasize about Michael C. Hall – but stay with it!
  10. When your timer goes off, you may gratefully and with much drama take your feet out of the water and wrap them in the towel.
  11. Optional: enjoy your wine, scotch or tequila.

Tips:

  • Do daily for injury prevention
  • To be enjoyed with a regular regimen of stretching and strength training.
  • Modification: do this with your legs in the bathtub (and more ice) after a 2+ hour training run or a race. Some races provide ice water barrels to jump in afterwards.

I’m not gonna lie to you, this is painful, but then so is running a marathon with injured feet. Embrace the suck. Besides, it feels so damn good when you take your feet out of that damn ice!

(With thanks to Duane Banman, the massage therapist who urged me to adopt this practice. His lair is otherwise known to marathoners and triathletes in Regina, SK as “Duane’s House of Pain.”)

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