A little story about Ben....

Before I tell you about Ben, it'd be best if you got your head in the right space.

So clear your mind....
You're wandering along a green belt towards this little lake off in the distance.
Perhaps listening to some chilled out Australian music, cloudy sky, an intense sporting event about to take place....
And you see this moment happen before you....

A gorgeous Momma and her little boy just wandering up your way..... and Snap goes the camera....

As they approach, I ask, "Excuse me, can I take a photo of your little boy? He's so cute!"

Oh, ya, sure, he loves getting his picture taken and he loves the ladies, is a full on flirt...Ben....This lady wants to take your picture....

Ben looks at me, drops his bike, and then falls to the ground. Snap goes the camera.

Ummmmm..... "Hi Ben, my names Kara, I sure like your blue bike...."

That's all it takes. 

Ben is up, telling me something in half Australian-half English...birds, trees, bikes, bees...I don't know, but it was important.

"Thanks Ben, for letting me take your picture. I really like that bike."

In an afterthought, Ben looks back at his trusty steed....

Grabs it by the bars, jumps on and starts to cruise....

Ben..... you know the rules, says his momma, no helmet.... no bike....

Ahhhh, Ben, the 24 hour bike race... that wasn't... was made a whole bunch better because of you.

Much Love

K

An Ironman Melbourne fish story.....

We've all heard those fish stories that start and end with: my rod took a massive hit...the line almost snapped....I had to battle to bring it to the boat, and it was so big I could barely lift it!!!

I kinda feel like the swim at Ironman Melbourne 2013 will always have that tone... I can try and explain it, but it just won't ever seem like enough. But before I go into detail about the race, I will tell you a bit about the lead up. 

Getting ready for my departure was fairly standard. 
I was pretty unprepared and was going about this in a bare bones kinda way. Bike: check. Helmet: check. Shoes: check. Goggles and gear: yep. Ok, anything else I need I'll get there...or else I just don't need it. I had no nutrition plan, no real agenda, no expectations.  I entered on a whim, and kinda spent the last three months training as such.  Arriving and getting settled in the city was really fun. I was in a great spot just off Fitzroy Street in the St. Kilda area. Very close to the race expo and the actual finish.

The three days leading up to the race were pretty low key.  I ate at a few great little spots, with the Banff restaurant being my favourite. I 'sussed' out Acland Street with my trusty camera on attention. I met new friends and enjoyed many yummy extra hot, skinny flat whites while people watching.  

Melbourne is gorgeous. Yes, the weather seems to have a personality disorder, but even that seems charming now... It's the perfect mix of city, grit and gloss, and sea exposed beauty. Don't tell Perth, but I've got a mad crush on Melbourne.

Race morning was fairly typical. My belly was a bit upset and my arms felt a little jello like. Feelings I've felt many times before, however, this time my tummy was unusually temperamental.  Hmmmm... 

Arriving in Frankston, which is about 40k from my hotel, I noticed the wind immediately. Well, I thought, maybe it's not as bad near the water. 
Hahahaha...ahhhh, my ignorance never seems to surprise me.
 Getting in the que for the dunny's I could hear the announcer talking about the swim. It's been changed. Oh. Ok. Delayed by 30 minutes, now two loops of 1.9k. Alright. No big deal. People were chattering about it. You could feel the nerves buzzing. I didn't pay much attention. I still hadn't seen the water.Another change was announced. 
Later swim start, it's now a 8:25 start. And only a 1.9k swim, out and back. Oh. Ok. No big deal. 
I could hear coach Kev saying, it's all in the process, not the outcome. Stay away from the chatter, don't over think it. I had my phone with me, so I called my Mom. I knew she'd be losing it if she heard all the panic about the wind and water conditions. Then I called home. It was only 4:30am, so I got the answering machine. I'm pretty sure I said something like this: Hi guys, I just want you to know the swim's been changed, conditions are bad, and it's windy (voice chokes here) and I'm terrified, I love you". I hung up quick knowing I was about to start crying. I wasn't really scared, just feeling more alone than anything.

With about 20 minutes to start time I finally decided to get down to the beach. 
We had to walk around the Sophia restaurant, along the path, down to the beach.  Just as I was about to hit the beach the wind just pounded against me. It was like a physical feeling. The waves were pounding the shore, which was littered with wetsuit clad bodies and red caps...and worried faces. 

The zodiacs were trying to secure the buoys and no one knew what was going on.In a complete fluke I bumped into Reggie and Mark along the shore and it made me feel a bit better. Irish by birth, but living in Dubai, this was their first Ironman and I was in awe of their determination to get in and swim. When the gun went off I stayed veryyyyy far to the left and veryyyy far behind. It took me a bit to walk out and start swimming. The waves were relentless. 

I thought of my kids immediately. I thought of the countless hours they've spent in those exact waves...purposely being knocked down and sloshed around. I thought about "Livin' like Larry"... In fact I may have verbally said, I'm f#%kin' livin like Larry right about now!!I just kept moving forward, keeping the pier in my sight when I could, because there was no point in looking out, the waves were too big. At one point, about 500M out we started getting smashed by swimmers coming back in. Going out the buoys should be on you left and then going back they again should be on your left. But the whole thing was such a gong show, the swimmers coming back were on the wrong side. Only once did I stop just to see where I was going (I'm shocked that I had such great lines, I did surprisingly well with sighting). When I stopped, all I could hear was an Irishman yelling the F word over and over, it was so funny! I made it to the last buoy and I gave a little yell, I was so happy and so proud of myself. On the way back I thought of all those that I knew cheated and skipped out before the last buoy. I thought, you poor buggers. The next time you need to dig deep, or your scared, or unsure if you can do it, you won't have this to draw on. You'll have to remind yourself that you couldn't hack it and that you cheated.  But I let it go completely and was elated to be going back to shore.
Once I saw the pier again I felt amazing. I was tired, yes, but I was so excited to be almost finished. I ended up wayyyy down the beach and had to run along the sand. I wasn't alone, there were dozens of athletes strewn down the beach all making their way back to the pier.  I remember feeling the sand beneath my feet and thinking, wooooow, my legs feel like lead.  Right from my toes to my hip flexors...they felt soooo cooked.  I think I just worked so hard that they were fried! I've never felt that in a swim before.

a little sample of the chaos

I pulled off my own wetsuit (there were no wetsuit strippers), grabbed my bag and went into the tent. The volunteer dumped my bag. Helmet, shoes, glasses. "Wow, you pack light," she says. You have no idea, I reply.Out onto the bike, I think ok, just like Aaron told me, this is my bread and butter. I love the bike. Wellllll, I like the bike when I'm going 29-31k/hr..... I don't like it so much at 23-25k/hr.... Reality soon set in that it was going to be a tougher bike than once expected. First, there were no kilometre markings, they had all blown away. Second, I had no computer. And third, it was lonely. The bike course itself is pretty cool. It's the toll highway in Melbourne, basically two loops of 90k. If you look at the profile it gradually builds into a climb and then comes down the other side. My first 45k took about 1:45, a solid 15 minutes slower than I expected. Shit. Ok.It's ok. It'll turn around. Focus on the process.The next 45 was 1:20. Ok. So a 3:05 split. Well, with this wind I can handle that. I'll try and work really hard on the last quarter. 
The next 45k was like the first and then on the way back into Frankston the wind turned and it became a dogfight for the last 30k. I started to get low, at one point feeling so flat I was unsure of what I was doing. At the aid station they had run out of Gatorade. Serious?Ok. Regroup. Feeling low usually means you need fuel. I had a few Eload tabs so I popped about 4 and drank some water. I swear to you, about 15 minutes later I was signing and smiling. I couldn't believe how my mood shifted. 

"I threw your shit into a bag and pushed it down the stairs, I crashed my car into the bridge... I don't care, I love it, I don't care, I love it, I love it...." Yep, I was singing. Out loud. 

When I finally got into T2 it was like a graveyard! No spectators! Everyone had vanished. 
Holy crap, am I that slow? 6:30 bike isn't anywhere near fast, but still, it felt like I was the last person out there.I quickly got on my runners and visor and was on my way. I tried to hold 6 minute K's for as long as I could. It only lasted about 10k, then it got a bit slower and slower....by kilometre 28 I was starting to fade. My tummy had turned and I was hitting the dunny at every aid station. I couldn't hold much down and was now in this dark place. Ok. Regroup. Keep moving forward. Think about why you're here. Look around you. Feel the love.

I just kept repeating those things over and over. I thought about Aaron asking me at Ultraman if I was "hurt or injured".... I tried to stop the self deprecating thoughts.... I tried to not put myself down because I had chosen to walk. 

I looked around a lot. Once I was on the coastline I really soaked it in. The setting is incredible. The volunteers were amazing! And I really was loving it. I remember thanking one older man for volunteering, his reply was "it's our pleasure dear..." So awesome!I remember this one sharp, steep, short hill from the sea wall to the road....at the top this volunteer says "how great was that hill?" I looked at her and rolled my eyes, "it sucked ass!" "Well, we haven't heard that one yet," she says laughing. 

I remember the harmonica playing crossing guard. The lady with the massive boom box pounding out Niki Manaj. And all the signs made for LEON! Leon, you rock. Leon loves his bike more than his wife. Leon is a champ.I don't know who this Leon is, but he is loved. 

Seeing Mark, from Dubai, cruise past me at about 30 k was very cool. I have no idea how I knew it was him, but I called out his name. He turns around and stops, and we give each other a hug, he grabs my hand and kisses it....I tell him how proud I am of him, that he's killing it....and he's off. That was a highlight for me. Just a really cool moment I'll always remember. 

I thought about my brother, Scot. His birthday is March 24th, which was race day in Melbourne. I thought about watching him do his first Ironman 16years ago, and how, unknowingly, that day mapped out my love for the sport. I made a decision right then as I was running along the street in Melbourne that I want to do a race with him.I've decided he needs a little incentive to get back into the Ironman lifestyle. So I'm thinking I'll give him a choice of venue....Texas, Wisconsin, Florida.... My treat. Just him and I. 2014.

The second to last aid station was the best. Music, kids, dancing. I really took it in. Danced my way through it, high fived everyone, laughed and sang.....and the last km was the best. Giant Bikes had a massive crew out there cheering and I soaked it up.  I sang the Justice Crew song "this is the best, this is the best night, this is the best....this is the best night...."I thought about Penticton and it's amazing people and the 6 other times I've ran that last kilometre...I thought about all the times in training when I've YouTubed Ironman finishes and you see that last bit...I reminded myself that this is what I love.  I love to push, I love the personal suffering.... The unknown.... The amazingness of it all.... I heard every cheer, I relished every high five and congratulations, and I thought about all my friends and family and how lucky I was to be finishing yet another Ironman. As I turned right on the red carpet I felt no pain. No pain. Just pure joy. And this feeling of love.  As the crowd yells and bangs the fencing, you raise your arms to the sky. Pump pump. And they love it. You love it. How can you not....?And that is it.... Another day, another experience, another memory.It was awesome.Thank you Melbourne, you were a fantastic host!
Much love
K

Ahhhhh, here comes number 7....

I gave it a few minutes.
Tried to think of a witty title for this post.
I figure if it takes more than a few minutes it becomes less witty and more forced.

I am not about to force anything. Especially number 7.
Do the math....
6 x 3.8 k swim = 22.8K
6 x 180k bike = 1080K
6 x 42k run = 252K
Six Ironman triathlons totalling about 1354.8K.... and 80 odd hours in change.

My body knows what to do... that is for sure.
I can close my eyes right now and take myself to next Sunday morning 5:07am as I try and eat a banana, some coffee and maybe a bit of jam on toast.  I can feel the itty bitty tremble in my fingers as I zip up my hoodie.  The extra big grin doesn't fool me on the inside.  But even with all those feelings I still know exactly what it takes.

A plaque from King's Park, Perth, WA

It takes will.  And determination.  Fire in the belly.  Never quit attitude (never. ever. quit).  It takes knowing your strengths and telling your weaknesses they can piss off.  It takes a measured dose of humility and resolve.
I have been here. And I keep choosing to come back, time and time again.
With 15 years in the sport, my seventh Ironman will take me to an average of one race every two years....Or....if we really want to be accurate, it really only totals 5 years "off" doing Ironman, as I factor each kid birthed to be a least one IM....
OK, getting off track.
What I'm really trying to get at is this.  There is NOTHING easy about this weekend coming up.  Every single course, day and event is hard. Hilly, flat, raining, windy, boiling heat.  The day is long and hard. If it was easy it'd be called..... well, you've all seen that sign on the side of the road on race day.

I will never forget this day in January when Scotty came charging
across the beach calling, "Mum, Mum!! Come see what I found, it's Ironman....here
in Busselton...come see!!!" He was so excited....those are the moments I draw on....

I am so excited to be writing a blog with absolutely no whining, complaining, excuse making or inaccurate predictions.  I am ready. Now. Today. For a day full of whatever comes.  For a nervous belly, sweaty palms, tight calves, high fives, tears, and sweat...lots of sweat.

I can't wait to tell you all about my special week in Melbourne. I am so lucky and so thrilled to be a part of this.
And if I know you're tracking me on race day I might just push a litttttle bit harder...

Much Love
K

Kara's Training Plan: How not to train for an event. Sign up now....

A few key things one should never ever do just 3 months prior to taking part in an Ironman event:

1. Quit their job... 

1.a. this means you have very little incentive to do much of anything.

Yep, there are 5 suitcases, 2 hockey bags, 6 sticks, and two
triathlon bike boxes in there....bye bye winter...

1.b. especially because you have no money to do anything with.

2. Pack up 75% of your entire home and then get it all ready for a different family to live in.

2.a. this means you leave 90% of all training things in boxes downstairs (of old house in Canada), like your Nathan hydration pack, runners, sunglasses, goggles.

2.b. pull many muscles while lifting and sorting things in the house.

3. Move your entire family of five across the world. To another country. Where it is 40 degrees.

3.a. this means a total of 22 hours of in-flight time and a few days (give or take) of complete exhaustion.

4. Take an entire 6 weeks of vacation in this same stated country, exploring, eating and sleeping your way through life (utterly blissful, yet not so much on your cardiovascular system or waistline).

4.a. this means you come to the realisation that Tim Tams are not a food group and peanut butter must be rationed (they only have itty bitty jars of peanut butter here...a crime, I know).

Off to the land of Oz....

5. Start kids in new schools, new dance academies, hockey clubs, soccer clubs, and footy clubs...while still trying to maintain your eventing ritual of boogie boarding and surfing as the sun sets on the horizon.

5.a. this means buying uniforms, bucket hats and squeaky new black shoes...much to the dismay of the tortured children.

5.b. and trying to curb the 10pm bedtime they have been pushing for the past month.

6. Start a completely new job at the same time as your husband (just for dramatics: in stated new country;)

6.a. this means learning the lay of the land in (at a minimum) 12 different hospitals (insert laughter here!).

6.b. while only having one vehicle.... (insert belly laugh here.... very large belly laugh).

6.c. and learning the lingo...when I heard the word Caesar I figured they were talking about the drink, not the surgery....(ie. C-Section or Section in Canada....oh dear....)

I'm almost done....how are you feeling....prepped? Ready? Uber fit and ready to race? Ya, I kinda figured....

7. Come to the understanding that this race is all part of the plan.... the whole take it as it comes, fly by the seat of your pants, you only live once, you may as well get the most outta life, plan.  It's the only way for me.  I know many of my dear, tender, type AAA friends wouldn't last a day in my little world, and that's not a knock on their abilities, it's the truth.  I can barely do it.  Why would I expect anyone else to?

7.a. Here's why: It's freaking awesome! That's why.  I love this stuff.  The challenge of honestly not knowing if I'm gonna pull it off.....I love that.  

Playing in the outdoor pool...it's 50 Meters...but I can only
make it about 40...then I doggy paddle... :)

Here's it is on the D-Low.... I'm swimming twice a week if I'm lucky.  Swear.  The bike is maybe another two times a week.  I'm trying a bit harder to put the time in on the bike.... It's not fun winging a 180K bike....and then running a marathon.  Not fun at all....

The run is what's killing me.  I have nothing.  I'm at a solid 7K...Yep. You read that right. At 7K the hamstring kicks in and threatens to strike.  By that point my mind is wandering...I have no water (Nathan pack is underneath winter sweaters at home in the basement), no fuel and it's 28 degrees at 7:30pm....

OK, so why am I doing it?

Well, picture it!  MELBOURNE people!!! In Australia!!!! Staring out at St. Kilda's Bay...with 1600 other freaky triathletes.  Why not???

...that is all.

xo

K

Beholden to Wendy and Sally.....

I get this text:

What's your email? I'd like to email you guys a neat article from 1957 when my aunt was trying to play hockey with boys....

This is from my friend Deb.  Deb's Mum, Vicki,  just passed away not long ago.  It was sudden and very sad, and has created a hole that will never be filled. Deb and her family are going through special family mementos and have come across this article.

Vicki on her BC Farm...

I met Deb's Mum once or twice at the BMX track, but I didn't get the chance to really meet her.  Since her passing I've learnt that Vicki was born in Connecticut, U.S.A. and grew up in Belleville, Ontario.  And at the young age of only 18, while flying with the Prince Edward Flying Club in Picton, Ontario, she became the youngest commercial flight instructor in North America.  I've learnt that Vicki was one of those women that could help a Female cow birth her calf.  Vicki had a gentle, loving way with animals. She could cook a hearty farmhouse meal and she could ride a horse bareback.  On these damp and chilly Fall days Vicki's quiet, serene farm is missing her.  Her animals are missing her.  
Learning this after the fact made me realise how little I know about so many incredible women.  It also made me understand why Deb is such an amazing woman.  I've always thought highly of Deb.  She's kind, slow to judge (if ever at all) and reserved.  Yet, along with these subdued qualities there's this underlying pulse that tells me she is so much stronger than she realises.
When I read about her Mum, it all clicked.  She had the most amazing women to look up to.
Then Deb sent me the article about her Aunt and the message was clear.  Deb comes from some seriously incredible female genetics.


The article Deb sent me was dated October 31st, 1957.

While talking to Joe Primeau and Bob Goldham last Thursday evening after the minor "hockey night", held at the Pine Room, this scribe was abruptly interrupted by two cute eleven-year-old girls who, both talking together, informed me they had a complaint against a recent ruling made by the minor hockey executive.  The ruling in question was one which bans girls from participating in minor hockey.

Now these two young lasses, Wendy Fairbairn and Sally Folland, in no uncertain terms voiced their opinions on the ruling and topped it off with the question, "Are the men and boys of Oakville men or mice.... we think they are mice because they are scared to let girls play in their hockey leagues."

Well fellows...both girls have played in the league before.  Wendy, according to all statistics was a star centre, while her partner roamed on her left side.

Well girls, I guess you have found another "mouse" as this columnist is in complete agreement with the ousting of girls from the minor hockey organisations.  Why? Well now, let's see.... when a girl is playing hockey she only does so until she realises it's not the most feminine sport in the world.  Then she quits and probably becomes an ardent spectator.  The point is that while she is playing some future star is sitting it out on the bench when he should be out on the ice.  And then when it comes down to the fine things, what young lad wants to earn a reputation. or go around boasting about the jarring body check he threw into the cute young chick playing centre for the other side? No girls, this is a man's game.  I hear the figure skating club, which started last Sunday, has room for a few more girls.


I read this aloud to Makena and Aaron while they quietly smirked as I dramatically let my mouth drop at the end! "Can you believe that this was what women had to deal with?"


Aaron: (looking at me as if to say: reeeallly, have you been living under a rock?) Kara, they are still dealing with it.  This is still how many people think.

Makena: I'd do the same thing Mom.  I'd be standing right beside Wendy and Sally demanding to be heard.

Me: Really, Mak? You would?

Makena: (looks at me like I've just asked her to clean the toilet, like whhhhy me?) Mom, do you really think I'm gonna let someone tell me I can't do something just because I'm female? Come on....and plus, I'd suck at figure skating!

That's all I needed to hear....Thank you Wendy and Sally....

An oldie but a goodie.... Ironman Canada 2011

With Aaron down in New York prepping for the Tough Mudder and Gary Horsting in Tempe prepping for Ironman Arizona this weekend, I thought I'd post an old Ironman Race Report.
It's not overly long and is a little sparse on detail (for all you type A's out there), but it reminded me of why we do this.... I hope you like it.

Ironman Canada 2011 Race Report:

Signing up for Ironman Canada is a really weird thing.  The actual day is marked in your brain calender all year.  The plans are made in advance: who's driving with who, where are you staying, who are we cheering for...?  

That Sunday morning at around 5 am you bound out of bed, get ready, make coffee and drive to Penticton.  We've made a habit of stopping on the highway to watch the swimmers come around the turn and head back to the beach.  It's early in the morning, the air is still crisp, but the goosebumps on your arm aren't from the cool air...it's amazing what that sight does for your spirit...

Ironman Canada Swimmers rounding the boats, heading
back to transition...

All those arms turning over, the faint sound of pounding music coming from transition across the lake, the helicopter in the air...

The race unfolds before your eyes, you watch all these spandex clad athletes, some very very svelte and others not so much, push their limits, reach for their goals, their dreams... You know each one has a story.  You see faces that you've maybe seen for years, you see friends, you see happiness, pain, and wonderment... 

As the day goes on and the sky turns to dark you witness the incredible glory of perseverance, effort and redemption.  The finish line pays homage to huge smiles and tears of joy.  Once the final hours are over it's time to get in line to register for the following year.  Sleeping bags line the sidewalk coming out of the Ironman village, and people are set for the night (let's hope it doesn't rain).  In the morning we pay a fairly large sum for self-induced torture to race the following year...., and then 3 or 4 months after that you often get buyer's remorse. 

The days become shorter, the winter comes, snow, riding indoors…you know the drill. It's hard to remind yourself of that amazing Summer day where you witnessed this feat of courage from normal, everyday people.

But then Spring arrives, and suddenly race season is just around the corner.

The weather starts to shift, riding outside becomes more and more regular, and you can see the light!

Summer comes quickly, and before you know it you are weeks away from race day!  Yikes!

Have I trained enough? Am I ready? What the heck am I doing this for anyway? These are just a few of the questions that continually run through your mind.

But, it’s not hard to find the answers to these questions, as they are already answered in the past year of training, sacrificing and commitment.

For me personally, the long weekend training camp in Penticton with the Seattle crew from Pauole Sport Tri Club was a launching point for my excitement to race.  Literally showing up at the beach and meeting new friends and being inspired by their stories really kicked my butt into gear. 

Especially the rides with Jenny, Faye and Laurie, those gals really know how to enjoy the moment and push hard at the same time!

The time spent with the Vernon gang on the Ironman bike course was crucial too.  Having a pep talk from Ginny and then riding with her for the last 40 k was awesome.  That tiny little body of hers is seriously driven by a powerful engine! 

My parents came up to watch our kids for us during race week. It was so nice to just hand over the van keys, give some kisses and say goodbye. I have no worries when I know they are in charge!  Our kids are in amazing hands, thank you Mom and Dad!!!!

Bocce on Phil and Joan's beach...that and skinny dipping is the secret to a relaxed race ;)

We rented a room in a gorgeous house on Skaha Lake, just pasted Mclean Creek Road.  It was sheer luck finding this spot.  Our hosts Phil and Joan are the coolest couple. We were relaxed, rested and totally ready to race come Sunday! 

I have a feeling the boat ride on Saturday night calmed our nerves and kept us from thinking too much.  And the real ticket was skinny dipping before bed!  We’ve decided this will be a race tradition.  Although we aren’t sure how we’ll do that in our upcoming race in Arizona…the Tempe Best Western might be a bit ticked seeing two Canadians in the buff!

Anyway, we strolled into town race morning at about 5:45am.  Aaron commented that it was light out, “don’t we usually get here in the dark?” Yep, we are usually her by 5:00am, but not anymore, we have changed to the minimalist approach!  Neither of us has ever been more relaxed and ready to go.  Laughing and chatting about previous experiences we entered transition and both went about getting ready (which is really code for standing in the porta-potty line up).  

Standing in the lake, Aaron and I found each other amongst the 2880 participants, had a quick smooch and butt smack and we were ready to go!

The swim was fairly uneventful.  Like every IM, it was packed full of flailing bodies, but I felt relaxed and smooth.  1:16 wasn’t the swim I was hoping for, but it was still my fastest so far, so I can’t complain. 

Seeing the Kal RATS and my family at the Husky is always something I look forward to.  Sarah Clark in particular is one of my favourites!  Her enthusiasm is contagious and acts like a natural power gel!

I took the ride out of town slow and controlled.  I saw Ally riding up Mclean, and hollered a big hello.  She turned to look at me and I see this massive upper lip that looked like a hot dog bun. “Kara, I was stung by a bee.” I just about fell off my bike!  Her lip was so sore looking and I was scared for her, the nurse in me was thinking one thing: airway. "ummmmm, Ally, I'm worried about you, can you get some medical attention?"  She told me she would do just that and instructed me to power on.  She was in my thoughts ALL DAY.  I was hoping that she would be ok, I was sincerely worried.

Then riding out of OK Falls, I came upon my friend Faye. I hollered “looking good Faye!” I turned to look at her and saw blood all over her left shoulder.  “I crashed!” Again, I was in shock, and here she was riding strong (A side note about amazing Faye is that she also has MS...and it does not define her, she is one of my heroes).  Always encouraging, she told me to get at it.  I found myself once again hoping she would be ok. 

Faye and Ally inspired me the WHOLE race! 

I saw Mellissa Spooner at Barcelo Road.  A huge cheer from her made my speed increase dramatically!  Talk about inspiring, an Ironman champ out there cheering us on!  WOW!  I love it!

Seeing my Mother-in-law, sister-in-law and niece at the out and back was a nice surprise and very welcomed!  In fact it was awesome! They drove past me a few times leading up to the Apex turnoff.  That was a real treat, cuz that’s a tough spot.

Yellow Lake was…well, Yellow Lake. It's always a little bit harder than you think, late in the bike, that big of a climb, that long of a climb... But like usual, the Kal RATS were out in full force, and made me feel like a pro!  Nothing feels better than that! It’s like Tour De Jaunes Le Lac!!! There is almost a tunnel that forms cheering you up the road...there's a drummer pounding to the beat of your pedal stroke and then just as you crest the top they all let out a big holler.  And the best was seeing Myra, Wendy, Laura, Jaki… Girl power!  Loved it!

What I was really counting on was seeing my family just past Twin Lakes….hoping and praying they would be there….and sure enough all 9 of them were!!!

9 of them being my parents and 3 kids, Desiree, Glen, Bennett and Matthew.  High fiving the 5 kids was the best, I was really ready to rock the run after that!

Prior to those high 5’s I was having doubts!  “how the heck am I gonna run a marathon now?” “stop it, think in the present.” “but I can’t, I can’t do this.” “yes you can!”  Yep, this is what goes through our mind! Twisted, I know!

Whippin' off the heart rate monitor at the halfway point

The run was long and hot but surprisingly doable.  I was very focused, I had decided that I would NOT WALK at all.  I kept hearing Ginny, “Kara, you are an athlete, you deserve to race fast, strong, be focused, be joyful, grateful.” 

Those words were invaluable to me, as were Kevin Cutjar’s : Be patient, it’s a long day, stay committed to your plan.  And seeing Aaron, Ginny, Faye, Jenny and Ally specifically (along with all the other great racers) was the BEST!  I tried to be so enthusiastic even though I was kind of suffering.  I wanted to give them strength and energy!

I thought of Deb Haldane’s message to me.  I thought of Rob Leviton, Leah Goldstein, my brother (who started the madness), my parents, our families, everyone that sacrificed for us.  All the people who have given to us, so that we can do this event, it really comes down to that…when we are out there, we are out there with all of our family, all of our friends, mentors, coaches, and fellow athletes.

In closing, I can tell you childbirth for me, was much easier.  This is a hard race!  It’s a long day, and it’s filled with ups and downs. But in the end it is 100 % worth every minute!  The memories stay with us forever, and we all know, quitting is not an option! And a PB is worth every freakin’ bit of pain the next day!

Bring it on Ironman Arizona!

Surrender to the rainy days and find the Silver Lining!

Autumn is here.  The days are shorter, much shorter, more grey, dreary and did I mention shorter?
Then the rain comes... it's all a perfect blend to make you wanna hunker down in bed with a cup of coffee and a good flick on the tele... It's tempting, believe me, I've kinda been doing that the (ahem) odd day here and there.
Until Today!  I shuttled the kids off to school, made my coffee, got my puppy, crawled back into bed...and...then....felt...bored.

Cousins Bay, Kalamalka Park

There's a downfall to my incredibly large picture window that overlooks all of Kal Lake and the park...when I sit in my bed that is all I see...Beautiful Possibilities.
So today as I tried ever so hard to focus on Colin Farrel's ruggedly good looks, I kept dodging a glance at the park.
I fired off a text: you girls still meeting to run the park? am I too late.....?
Nope. See you at 9:30.
Perfect timing!


I popped out of bed, got dressed and headed out. In. The. Pouring. Rain.
Ugg!
But then the rain let up.  Ohhh, no wait, it's back. Then gone, then pouring....
By that point I just didn't care. Let's do it.

Not today, but another gorgeous fall day in the park

The park was magnificent.  It's so socked in right now, with a low cloud layer skimming the tops of the trees and dipping into the valleys...the leaves are half on-half off the trees, there are puddles everywhere and big sloops of muddy trail... It was so fun!

We caught up on life, talked about families, work, kids and activities...talked about upcoming events, things we were training for and what plans we had this fall.  I cherish my girl time, especially when it's spent working out, running, doing something active.
Coffee is always a must following our jaunts through the park.  A quick change out of sopping wet clothing and a good visit with java in hand makes the day even better.

Following our Starbucks rendezvous, Ginny and I hit the pool.  I think it's safe to say both Ginny and I are pretty chilled at the moment, with her just coming off Ironman Wisconsin last month and me just starting to find my mojo. So the pool held no agenda.  Let's just swim....ok.

We ended up cruising through 8x200 with no major effort spent.  Just swimming for fun and fitness.
I haven't been in the pool since mid July, so it was a bit of a reunion for me of sorts.
I guess I thought I'd just go back to where I was.  I wasn't really thinking the water would feel thick, like soup, or that I'd feel the effort of easy swimming.
The cool thing is that I didn't feel discouraged by this.  I almost felt relieved.  I know I have some work to do, but I know that it's there, inside me, just waiting to come around.
The 200's were the perfect distance today.   Not too short to find no rhythm and not too long to get distracted.

I found myself thinking of all the things I missed about the pool, and these are some of them...
I missed the feeling of sitting on the edge of the pool just prior to starting...then letting your body flop down into the water and push off the wall....whoosh.  I love that feeling right then when you're like a pencil cutting through the water.
I loved seeing my shadow when the pool was very calm and I was breaking through the lane.  I would come up under a light and see my arm reach and extend in front of my body and then disappear, with the other arm's shadow coming into sight.
I missed the sound of the bubbles and rushes of water pass through that funny little spot where the cap meets the ears and the earrings sometimes get in the way...
And the breathing, I missed that feeling of controlled (and the odd time, uncontrolled) breathing.  Where I set the pace, where I decided which side to breathe on, and how hard to push and when to step it back.

The bottom line is sometimes, time spend doing other things makes you really appreciate your sport, and the tiny little odd things you love about it.
I was doing dishes after our swim today, looking out at the mountains as I scrubbed.  Huh, I thought, 1600M in the pool, that's not really that far.  But then, I thought about it and was so pumped.  It's almost half an IM swim (which is 3.8k)... which is a drop in the bucket compared to Ultraman!
It's all about the Silver Lining people!!!