Milestones (birthdays and runs)!

I just hate when time gets the better of me and I am left with content for two weeks worth of a blog.  Alas – I am going to make it pretty short – mostly because I am tired and in desperate need of a nap!

So, last week I went back to the St Louis area because my beautiful grandmother turned 100 years old and the family was getting together to honor the occasion.  Interestingly, it was also my mother’s 70^th bday weekend. 

Naturally, the weekend was filled with family.  I arrived on Thursday afternoon so that I could have at least one evening with my Gram, Mom and brother-Michael, without the other 20 members of the family around.  It was a delightful first evening with the three of them. 

Gram and Me -- at the Red Lobster, her favorite.

Friday morning I got up, milled about the house for a few hours and then asked Mom to drop me off at the gym for an easy bike ride.  I admit, I was a bit stressed for my mom, as the entire family was about to descend on her house (at 4:30pm) for a BBQ and it was raining and raining and raining.  The forecast was for rain all day – possibly ending by 2:30pm.  So, dropping me off at the gym gave mom and opportunity to create an alternate plan and gave me a chance to unwind from worry.

After my ride, I walked a mile home from the gym… in the rain.  Things did not look good for the party.  However, the skies managed to hold back after 4pm and everyone enjoyed the outdoors sans rain.

I awakened on Saturday morning and headed out for a lovely 10 mile run.  The temps were in the mid-50’s – so you can only imagine how much I enjoyed every step. 

Sun-shining morning, Fairview Hts Illinois

Shortly after my run, I met up with my good friend, Marcy, for breakfast.  We’ve known each other since 5th grade and she is as beautiful as ever!  Strangely, she and I reconnected in Arizona a few years before she and her family moved back to the St. Louis area.  Its nice that we still get to spend time, even though no longer within driving distance.

Marcy and me -- breakfast

Saturday night was the big birthday soiree for Gram – and I am pretty sure she had a delightful time.  Here are some shots of the family. 

Gram and Mom

My cousin, Laurie, and me

Cousin Dan and Me

I spent Sunday with mom – celebrating her milestone.  And, I even got a little alone time with my brother, that evening. 

Big-brother, Michael

By Monday I was back to the old routine and met Matt for a ride out Pecos and back. 

The trail was relatively kind to us on Tuesday morning – as we headed out the Desert Classic for 5 miles.  The weather is finally cooperating enough that we’re not mortified by our pace, any more. 

Wednesday, I headed out into the foothills for my usual hill route.  I knew my bike chain was overdue for a cleaning, but hoped it might make it until the weekend.  Unfortunately, as I hit the hardest of the hills, the one where I must move down to the smaller ring, my chain wouldn’t budge.  I had to take the hill on the big ring and I suffered all the way to the top.  I am somewhat surprised I didn’t simply allow myself to clip out, but I made it – big ring and all.   (Was so beat up by the ride, I completely forgot to take a post-ride-pic.)

Thinking I might take Thursday off, I actually awakened at 4am, ready to go.  So, I went to the gym for a nice 1500 meter swim.  I did some form work, some speed drills and a nice cool down.  Was super pleased I got up in time to make it happen. 

You got lucky -- I remembered to take a post-swim shot

Friday, I headed out for my 15 mile run about 15 minutes before Matt.  He runs about a minute per mile faster than me, so I thought this would not only give him an additional 15 minutes of sleep, but might make it so that neither of us had to wait for the other to complete the long run – which can be tedious and achy. 

I saw him around mile 8.5 and we both high fived each other, thrilled with how great we were feeling – while knowing we still had several miles in front of us.  I saw Matt again around mile 11, and with the median in the road I just gave him a 2-thumbs-up.  This is when he gave me a 2-thumbs-down, letting me know his left leg was not cooperating.  I was worried about him, but knew that I was strong and could finish, even if it meant I had to come back to get him with the car. 

As I passed him one last time around mile 12.5, I noticed that he was looking pretty strong.  It was then that he gave me 2-thumbs-up – so I knew he was also going to finish , and finish well. 

I hit the 15 mile mark before Matt, so I waited for him to come around the bend.  He was looking good and was just under 15 minutes behind me.  Our estimate was right on – so it was cool that we didn’t have to really wait for one another.  My time 2:27; Matt’s 2:13 – amazing work!  I think we both realized the marathon isn’t simply something in our imaginations any more.

Saturday, I got up for a short ride on my tri-bike, to make sure I was not going to die on it.  10 miles later, I was all smiles.

This morning, my colleague and Ragnar Trail team member – Alex – met me at Pass Mountain for a 7.5 mile run.  Its my favorite, but also one of the toughest trails to master.  I don’t really know anyone on the team that well, just yet, so it was really nice of him to come out and chat with me for 90 minutes as we traversed the beautiful landscape of the Usery Mountains. 

Alex put up with my tired legs.  I felt like I was trying twice as hard as usual to turn them over.  The 15 mile run on Friday made things slower than I was accustomed to.  He was a good sport and didn’t complain about my pace or my occasional need for a hike as we ascended some of the steepest sections.  I was so grateful.

About 2.5 miles into the run, Alex stopped me and said, “Meredith, it’s a tarantula!” And the sucker stood up tall as Alex got closer.  I stayed pretty distant, I’ll admit.  I know, I know…I should have snapped a picture.  Alas.

Around mile 7, we passed another one of our team members, Tara.  She had just started her run and was heading in the opposite direction – she mentioned that she wasn’t all that keen on a 5:45am start time, so she hit the trail a bit later.  Was just awesome to see her out there, though. 

Alex and Pass Mtn in the background

As I made my way to the car after convincing Alex he needed to be in my blog-shot, I got a text from Anne letting me know she was nearly 9.5 miles into her 15 mile run.  I knew I had about an hour to reach her, which was perfect.

As I saw her coming down the road, finishing her run, I became emotional.  She was really doing it.  She was solid and looked great. 

Anne - as she finished her 15

Then a couple hours later, I heard from Hannah – she, too, had completed her 15 miles.   She texted me from an Epsom-salt-filled-bath! 

Hannah on her 15 mile run

Matt, Hannah and Anne – way to go my friends!  I cannot tell you how proud I am to know all of you.  No one ever said Marathon Training was easy – but the rewards are vast!

Hello Grand Canyon!

The week started slowly, as I was coming down from the high of the San Diego Tri Classic, but I managed to get up early on Monday morning for a nice easy 18-20 mile ride.  As luck would have it, it rained for the majority of my ride, but not enough that the roads were difficult to navigate. 

It was raining, so I had to take the shot inside my garage.

Tuesday morning, I headed out for a 6 mile run in Ahwatukee and the weather had finally stepped off of the horrendous humidity and temps of the weeks prior.  It was only about 60% humidity and 83 degrees, so I felt like I could give it a decent effort for an hour. 

Wednesday, I met Matt for a ride out Pecos and back.  We were heading out fairly moderately for the first ½ -- not killing it or worrying about passing anyone else.  But when we both started back to the Park ‘n Ride from the mid-point, we decided to really work hard.  In fact, we annihilated our former personal bests on the Desert Foothills climb – attempting to keep our pace over 19 mph the whole way up.  Matt was right in front of me, as we ascended the hardest portion and he kept us in check.  We were both super pleased with what we were able to do! 
Two very proud cyclists for sure!

We both took Thursday as a rest day in preparation for the next day.

At 5am on Friday morning we met to run our usual-long-Sunday-run.  14 miles on a week day meant we could not screw around.  Although Matt was technically taking a vacation day, I had to be at the District Office by 8:30 for an all-day retreat.

We warmed up together for one mile and then Matt took off at his pace and I did my thing at my pace.  I felt really solid for nearly 8 miles – thinking about the prior weekend, thinking about work, thinking about the upcoming marathon.  Then, it was just work to get through the next 6 miles.  I would really like to have a solid training run one of these weeks – and although I always finish, I would really love to finish a lot stronger at a much better pace.  Everyone keeps reminding me that it will come back when the weather finally dips into the 60’s and 70’s in the morning – so I am waiting.  I am trying to be patient. 

My Garmin’s been a little funky for the last few days, so I know I need to reset the dang thing to factory settings – I just never remember until I am ready to use it (which is not the time to do it).  My run only amounted to 13.1 and change, but I think it was off.  Who knows?  I was happy to see Matt’s little head peeking out from the Park ‘n Ride as I approached the end of the run.  And, then it was off to my all-day meeting.

The reason I needed to run Friday, this week, was because Rob and I were heading up to the Grand Canyon on Saturday.  I have always been so embarrassed to call myself a trail enthusiast, when I live in the state with the world’s most amazing trails and haven’t even taken the time to peek over the edge to take a gander.  So, Saturday morning, I drove up north to Rob’s place and then he drove the remaining 3+ hours to the Canyon.

The ride was pretty uneventful – and I guess I didn’t understand what to expect from the Grand Canyon – as I kept looking and looking (for 40 miles) for a large canyon, anticipating that I would see it well before I was right on top of it.  Well, come to find out – that’s not actually how it works. 

We arrived and parked and I think I may have skipped my way to the start of the Bright Angel trailhead.  Matt told me that I should enjoy the hike, but that it would be tough.  He encouraged me to take Bright Angel nearly 5 miles down to the Indian Garden and then come back up.  He reinforced that it would be tough, but incredibly worth it. 

At the top -- just before hitting the trail.

As the two of us made our way down the trail, there were loads of people in the way for about a mile.  There were people in ill-fitted clothing, inappropriate foot-attire and packs that seemed ridiculous for a day hike where there are water-stations every 1.5 miles.  Rob mentioned that he’d only done this same hike once before and he found himself playing Sherpa to two older Canadians who had gotten in too deep near the Indian Garden and needed someone to carry their packs, just so they could make the trek back to the top. 

I listened to all kinds of stories on my way down – thinking about how much I had always wanted to be right where I was, but also recognizing just how steep the descent into the canyon was.  As we passed the first water stop, people were winded, sitting, resting.  They were likely on their way up. 

I was watching every step, thinking about what it was going to be like heading the other direction.  The breathing pattern from the people passing us (going up) as we descended was unsettling at times.  In fact just past the 1.5 mile stop, we passed a couple from the UK.  I smiled, said hello and asked the woman how she was doing.  “Good, thanks.” She replied.  And, then I passed the guy she was with, greeting him with the same question.  “Shattered!” he exclaimed, as we all busted up laughing.  It was a perfect description of how most people looked as they made their way up. 

After we passed the 3 mile mark on the way down, we ran into 2 gals struggling as they ascended.  “How far until the 3 mile stop?” one moaned.  I was happily able to smile and let her know it was merely 150 meters ahead.  I think it helped their energy to know that.  After another half mile, we were out in the canyon with no shade around us.  The temperature at the very top was 65 degrees, but as we approached the 4^th mile, it was clearly about 80-85. 

We approached the Indian Garden and it was a shaded haven.  People were camping, eating, picnicking and resting.  There were bathrooms and water and a lot of people sitting around.  We both made a quick pee stop, downed a small bit of food and turned around to head up.  My watch read 1 hour 38 minutes.  I gasped.  “Oh, shit.” I said.  “I can’t imagine it will take us less than double that to get up.”  I remembered one group exclaiming that they’d been hiking for 5 hours – they were not far from the 1.5 mile water stop on their way up and said they had gone down as far as we did.  I turned around and looked at Rob when we passed them and said, “oh, god, please don’t let this take me 5 hours.”  He reassured me that it should not.  But, looking at my watch and reading 1:38 for a descent down 5 miles, had given me reason to panic. 

Stair steppers...

The first mile isn’t really tough – it has elevation, but it’s simply the easier of the 5 miles.  We were also exposed – in direct sun light, battling the elevation and the heat.  It felt awful. 

The next 4 miles are actually pretty stinkin’ hard on the legs.  My heart was racing with every step, but I made the decision to allow no one to pass me on the way up.  It was a challenge Matt had often discussed with me while he was in training for his various 40-50 mile hikes, so I was determined to do the same.  Routinely, we came upon people who were laden with heavy packs or people who were simply dying from the elevation and difficulty of the trail.  Much of the middle 3 miles up are stair-steppers.  They can be steep and relentless.  But we were managing.  I was thinking only about being consistent and not stopping unless I had to (for water, mules or slower people in narrow sections).  And, that’s how it went.  I didn’t stop for any pictures on the way up – I was simply too focused on finishing strong. 

We hit the 3 mile mark and didn’t need to stop.  There was a little shade from time to time, at that point, so we enjoyed the cooler temps.  We moved around one guy who noticed Rob’s pack and said, “hey, I couldn’t help but notice your Ironman backpack.  Did you just complete one?”  Rob admitted he had and the two of them talked Ironman finishes for a good while.  All I could think about was, “YES!  I just swept by an Ironman and he’s not going to be able to keep up.”  That was exactly what happened.  He thanked Rob for keeping him company for a bit and then the two of us continued – never seeing that Ironman, again.  (grin)

I was really strong for the next couple of miles.  I was pretty quiet, save my breathing, and enjoying every inch of the canyon.  It was lush with green and some sections were even muddy, given the recent rains Arizona had gotten. 

At the last water stop (mile 1.5 from the top), I filled a bit of my Camelbak and then headed back out.  I didn’t want to lose any time.  I knew the end was near and I could see on my watch that I should not have worried so much about the time.  It was not going to take us as long as I thought it might. 

About a mile from the end, we started seeing people on the trail who did not belong.   Some were inappropriately dressed, some were seriously not in the right shape and some were simply dangerously ill-equipped.  We saw one poor guy who was clearly affected by the elevation.  We all tried to help him, but he refused and simply sat down.  I still hope he was ok. 

A group of four people about a mile from the top asked Rob if they should seriously consider turning around at that point.  He sarcastically told them “it’s not so bad!”  But then I piped up, worried they might hate life later and told them, “Look, its not easy at all – but its so very worth it.  If you have the right shoes and water – another ½ mile will be ok.  Otherwise, pack it in.” 

We don’t know what they eventually decided because I was far too focused on not allowing anyone to pass me.  

At the top, again, super happy!

As I hit the top of the trail, I raised my hands in the air – I had done it.  I stopped my watch: 3 hours 33 minutes.  It took 1:55 to get to the top – a mere 17 minutes longer than getting down.  I think I may have squealed a bit realizing what we had done.  I mean, I’ll admit, I thought I might need a rope-tow about 2 miles from the top, but I didn’t allow my thoughts to kill my momentum or enthusiasm for my location.  I was hiking the Grand Canyon for the first (not last) time.  I will never get another first time – and it was amazing.

(I took this morning - Sunday - off, but met Anne and the completion of her 14 mile run!!)

Anne as soon as she finished!

San Diego Tri Classic, Baby! (and more)

I know, the post-race blogs are always the fun ones – so let me get the more trivial stuff out of the way, shall we!

Monday was a holiday – when my alarm went off at 4:30am, I turned it off and went back to sleep.  I got myself out of bed by 5am and decided I could do an easy ride out Pecos Rd.  Matt was in the mountains with his family, so I knew I just needed to get about 15 miles on my legs at a relatively easy pace. 

However, as I pulled my bike out of my car at the Park ‘n Ride, I noticed a lot of cyclists heading out for their morning rides, as well.  I hopped on my bike and started out Pecos.  Within a few short minutes I passed a group of 4 cyclists going fairly slow.  Admittedly, we weren’t far from our starting points, so it was likely they were warming up – but I guess I had a little something to prove, so I moved around them swiftly. 

Then, as luck would have it, another group of 3 guys were ahead of me another mile down Pecos, so I took what I had and announced I was on their left as I maneuvered around them, as well.  It was light enough to see my bike clock, so I knew I was traveling around 20 mph – not so much an easy pace, but I was having fun.  Knowing those 3 guys would not be pleased that they were passed by a woman, I kept 20-22 mph’s the entire way out Pecos to the end.  And, then I saw them – as I did my turn around.  They were working hard, collectively, to show me up.

Of course, I didn’t let off and I crushed the rest of Pecos Rd – crushing my previous  times on the course.  About ½ way back to the Park ‘n Ride, I passed another rider shortly after the hill at Desert Foothills.  He seemed to have been moving pretty slowly, after the hill, so I took advantage of another cyclist and carried on down Pecos.  As I approached the Park ‘n Ride, I glanced over my left shoulder to see if I could cross the lanes of traffic only to see the guy I’d passed hugging my wheel.  That jerk had the nerve to latch onto my wheel with nary a peep about it.  He could have killed me or vise versa.  As I signaled and crossed the 4 lanes of traffic – entering the park ‘n ride -  I looked at him and snapped, letting him know what a DUMB move that was and how critical it is that one announces that they’re going to draft off of you before actually doing it.  I lost it.  The guy didn’t even apologize – he just made his way to his car with his tail tucked between his legs. 

Tuesday, I got up and ran 4.5 miles.

Wednesday, Matt and I enjoyed an easy ride out part of Pecos and the Reservation.

Thursday, I swam a little.

And, Friday – before leaving for San Diego – I did an easy 3 mile run around the ‘hood.

So, where to begin.  My friend, Kris, nicely offered to keep me company on the trip.  I prefer to travel with someone and Kris admitted she was more than happy to be my Sherpa for the day – not to mention she was happy to enjoy her long run in San Diego – so I picked her up around 8:30am on Friday and we headed to San Diego. 

As soon as we arrived, we met up with my good friends, Erin and Justin, and Erin’s dad.  We went straight to the expo and packet-pickup.  Erin and Justin had a bunch of friends joining them for the race, as well, so about 12-13 of us descended on the expo and then later went out for a fantastic meal in Little Italy.  Their friends were a blast.  I spent the evening wedged between two hysterical guys – Mark and Dan.  We chatted music, endurance sports and craft beer – you can imagine my delight. 

Erin playing in the kids area of the park near transition.

I hit the sack early and met up with all of them at Transition at 4:30am Saturday morning.  I was stoked.  It was good to be back and I was especially excited to have Erin and Justin racing with me. 

I am pretty silent prior to a race – pensive and deliberate – thinking about the course and my plan for the day.  Last year I bested 3:05 on the course and was really thrilled with my time.  It seemed my most perfect race. 

Erin, Me and Justin

As I put my wetsuit on, I could see Kris in the background watching all of the athletes prepare.  Mr. Ali was there, too – as it turned out I was in Wave 5, Mark and Dan in 6, Justin in 7 and Erin in 8.  Three more of their friends (Ramon, Jesse and Rick) were doing the relay – so I have no idea where they were in the mix. 

I could barely breathe from excitement.  As soon as the elites got into the water, I made my way to the beach to put my feet in and feel the water temp.  It was cold, for sure, but not terrible.  I think the announcer said “high 60’s”.  My best friend, Anne, sent me pics of her kids holding encouraging signs before the race – and I was on cloud 9.  I had trained for this and felt ready.

As the Waves were sent out, it was finally time for mine.  Kris caught some video of my Wave heading out.  (We were Green – the ones before purple.)

I was focused and felt strong.  Within a couple of minutes, I was passing swimmers and it felt nice.  I got a little off track and headed out to the outside a bit more than I intended, but when I got myself back on track, I could see caps of different Waves (blue – Wave 4; Brown – Wave 3; Pink – Wave 2) – and I was passing many of them.  That felt great.  Then, as we were about 600 meters from the end of the swim, a guy in a bright yellow cap came swimming perpendicular to us and hit at least 4 of us in the head with his hand, elbow or foot.  He righted himself, but did so right near me.  It made me miserable, as he bobbed and weaved and made a mess of an excellent swim line.  (I later found out the yellow caps were the Sprinters who were joining us mid-swim.)  As he continued to hit me with his hands, elbows and head, I finally slowed down, grabbed the asshole’s foot until he stopped swimming.  I snapped, “Give us a fucking break and learn how to swim!”  Another guy audibly appreciated my scolding and we all went back to swimming.  I think Mr-Yellow-Cap hung behind me for the rest of the swim.  Once it was over, I was out and running to transition. 

The distance between the swim and my bike seemed inordinately long.  But, I threw my helmet and cleats on and headed out of transition, as I sucked down a Gel.  The temps were rising and the humidity seemed out of control, but the breeze on the bike with my wet clothing felt nice at first.  I had failed to position my ponytail correctly, so my helmet was a bit less comfortable than it should have been, but I said “screw it” and rode on. 

This year we were all made to slow down, substantially, as we entered the Naval Base due to the speed bumps (x4).  Last year there were many downed cyclist who weren’t paying attention, so they were uber cautious this year. 

At mile 4, we hit “the climb” – its really no joke.  More than a 7% grade for nearly a mile.  By the time you reach the top, you are wasted – and I’ll admit, it felt worse this year than last.  Maybe I didn’t train as well on the hills as last year, maybe it was warm, maybe my hands were simply too slick from sweat to enjoy it – I don’t know.  At least I didn’t clip out as many cyclists did.  I hit the top like a champ and enjoyed the long set of rolling hills around the top of the mountain, gazing out over all of the bay and ocean.  There is NOTHING in the world like miles 7-9 of this course.  NOTHING.  I wanted a helmet cam!

On my 2^nd trip up the monsterous hill, a bunch of stronger riders and I made the most of it by cracking jokes and giving each other grief about whining – as hard as that hill was the second time, I certainly enjoyed it a lot more.  I was passing cyclist after cyclist, watching many clip out and almost fall over.  All I could think was, “it’s a LONG friggin’ walk to the top!” 

As I came into transition with my bike, again it seemed like a HUGE distance to my spot.  Once I got there, I slammed on my shoes, downed another gel and gulped a huge amount of water.  I had consumed a ton of water and electrolyte on the bike, as well.  It was so hot and I was losing a lot of sweat.  I knew I needed to stay hydrated. 

I felt fine on the run until turning around and heading straight into the sun.  The sweat was pouring off me and I was incredibly thirsty.  I got to the first water stop and grabbed two cups – one I poured on my head and the other I drank.  Never have I needed water so soon into the run – but I needed it and it looked like everyone else did too.

As I headed out of the sun, again, I felt fine – pushing well into mile 3 or 4 with strength.  I saw Kris at mile 3 and yelled, “hey Kris, guess what? There’s beer in 3 miles.”  I could hear everyone around her laughing – and it really upped my spirits for a bit!  But then I turned into the sun again and my discomfort level soared.  I walked and ran for the next 1.5 miles, through the water stops and around the bend until I was out of the direct sun again – and then I crossed the finish line hearing my name over the loud speaker. 

About to Cross the Finish Line

My time – 3:12.  Slower than last year by 7 minutes.  That’s huge in race times.  I really lost it on the run, but honestly, for the first time I didn’t mind.  I had such a good time on the course, I didn’t think about the fact that my times would be less than great.  I just resolved to continue to enjoy the course – and I did.  It was hotter than last year and more humid, but really, I had a good time.  I’ll work on a few things, but I am not going to beat myself up this time.  I loved every minute of it – even the hot sun portions. 

I saw Justin and Dan at the finish line.  Dan passed me at mile 4 of the run – so we were not very far apart.  Justin did really well 2:32!  Amazing.  Erin crossed the finish line 14 minutes faster than her time 2 years ago, 3:27.  It was a good day for all.  Turns out their friends who did the relay took first place with 2:42.  Amazing!

Mer, Justin and Jesse (runner in the relay)

Then we all went for lunch and drinks at Stone Brewery.  It was really a wonderful race and with an amazing group of people.  I loved it and hope we all do it again, next year!

Oh...and the beach after, of course!

Worst Phoenix Heat - EVER!

I am sure that all of my endurance friends would agree – this week was one of the toughest weeks ever for training in Phoenix.  Temps and humidity levels sky-rocketed and there was no way out of it.  In hindsight, I should have made much better use of my gym membership, this week, as I was miserable on just about every outing.

Monday, naturally, I swam.  I had a great swim in my Masters class the weekend, prior, but I didn’t quite measure up alone on Monday morning.  I guess there really is something to having “Intimidating-Dan” in the lane with me.  That being said, I was still comfortable pulling out 1500 meters and feeling ready for San Diego when done.

Tuesday morning, I hit the streets of my neighborhood for a 6 mile run.  It was hot and it was humid, but it wasn’t so bad that it prevented me from pulling times I can be ok with at this time of the year – Overall Pace = 9:27. 

Wednesday morning, although still very hot and humid, I felt ready for my last hill ride before tapering for the Triathlon.  As soon as I left my house, something wasn’t right.  I was barely pulling 10-12 mph without feeling horribly winded.  So, about 3 minutes into the ride, I clipped out of my pedals to investigate my wheels and brake-pads.  Once, early into a ride, Matt discovered that I was dragging slightly on the brake-pad and therefore struggling to keep a simple pace.  As luck would have it, it was the same this time around, so I knew what to look for -- my front brake had likely adjusted itself the last time I pulled my bike out of my car; so after a moment of tweeking it, I was back on the road pulling numbers I could live with. 

Everything was working nicely – my bike, my lungs, my legs.  However, of course, I found myself stopping at every stopsign and stoplight on this trip – and there are easily a dozen over the 18 mile ride.  I really felt like I could have pulled a personal record (again), but with all the slowing and stopping and starting again, I missed doing so by .1 mph.  Disappointing, but as I always say – I’ll get her next time!

I met Matt for a 5 mile trail run on the Desert Classic, Thursday morning.  It was pretty dark when we started, so we walked to the beginning of the trail before getting our serious-run on.  2.5 miles out, 2.5 miles back.  Its my favorite thing in the world, but it’s so much harder in 86 degrees with 65% humidity.  We struggled.  I could hear Matt’s labored breathing behind me, as we reached the top of each ascent and I knew he could hear mine, as well.  Matt really struggled in those last couple of miles, but I felt pretty strong, despite the heat.  He thanked me in the end for pulling him through the misery.  I could only tell him how much more often the roles were reversed, so I was happy to be the one on the “giving end” this time around.

Friday morning, Matt and I happened to be doing similar rides (since I am not trying to kill myself for this last week or so of training).  So, we headed out Pecos Rd on our Road Bikes for 20 miles – chatting and arguing about work.  I think the real problem when we don’t go out hard is we find time to complain to one another about work – it usually irritates the other enough to get them to push harder and faster.  Friday was no different.  I bitched about one of his key areas of responsibility – and off he went.  Fortunately, he let off around mile 8 and we were able to laugh about it, later.  (Note to self – never blame Matt for the college’s lack of forward progress – he’ll only annihilate me on the bike, later.)

Saturday morning, I headed out for a 10 mile run in quite possibly the worst conditions EVER in Phoenix – at least it felt that way.  80% humidity, 81 degrees – or something like that.  Matt and I met, but we didn’t run together because by mile three I wanted to quit and I was fairly honest about it.  He carried on in front of me and I suffered through the next 7 miles, miserable and wondering if I will ever be able to complete another full marathon.  Serious doubts about my running filled my head.  A ten mile run should be NOTHING for me.  I can do that for breakfast and continue on to something else.  But not Saturday.  Fortunately, Matt told me, when I met him at the end, that he was fairly defeated by mile 6 or 8 and shuffled his way to the finish line, as well.  I would have loved it to have only been 2-3 miles of misery.  There is nothing like being inside the head of someone running 7 miles wishing it was all over.  I did make it to the end, but not without a lot of suffering. 

I was soaked.  My hair was saturated through.  My clothes adhered to my body like a leotard 10 sizes too small.  But I finished.  It was the ugliest finish, ever, but I finished.  May there be no more runs like that one again…in my life.

And, the reason I ran on Saturday instead of Sunday.  I met a couple of my Masters Swim classmates for an Open Water swim: Ashley and Alec.  We left the valley around 6am and were at Bartlett Lake’s swimming area by 7:15am.  The drive is stunning, as the lake is situated between several gorgeous mountain ranges.  Not to mention all the rains in the area had made the mountains lush.

As we got out of the car and made our way down to the beach – something was off.  I remembered a beach and there was none.  I remembered trudging through deep sand for a good 2-300 feet before reaching the water (from the parking area).  There was no beach, no sand. 

I stopped a woman and her son walking out to the end of a pier (a pier I didn’t remember, either) and asked them where the swimming area was.  The young boy said, “I saw some people training out here between the buoys last weekend.”  So, I then asked about the pier, and the woman commented that it was new.  Still puzzled I said, “I clearly remember a beach, though.”  Then I learned that the lake was so high, it covered the entire beach.  Instead, the water met the grass just beyond the parking and picnic area. 

Relieved, the three of us made our way along the water line and set our gear down.  I explained that we swam out to the buoys and then across the lake, passing buoy after buoy.  So we swam. 

Ashley and I are pretty equivalent swimmers.  We were neck and neck in our Masters drills and we were trading off leads this morning, too.  She was super smart to wear a neon green swim cap in the lake – I could spot her the entirety of the swim.  I am sure my dark blue cap did no one any favors. 

But, the water was nice and after several hundred meters all 3 of us were comfortable enough to do our own thing – checking in with each other at each end of the lake.  And after about 50 minutes, we were back at what should have been the beach,a sitting in the water, enjoying the fact that we weren’t running or cycling in the extreme heat of Phoenix.  I think its exactly what we all needed to feel better about our upcoming triathlons. 

Bartett Lake - peaceful

Ashley and Me - pre-swim

Alec finishing up, with Ashley in the foreground. 

All happy and done!

And, so the San Diego Tri Classic is 6 days away.  The next blog will likely detail that adventure.  Were it not for the miserable heat this week, I would joyously say “I feel ready.”  Instead, I will end with, “I am pretty sure I am ready.”