Learned Something New This Week

I've been working quite a few shifts in the ER lately. I love it (mostly) and I hate it. I like the excitement and adrenalin, the Forest Gump box of chocolates theory works well to explain my days, I hate giving puffers. On the wards, puffers are a nursing job (or for competent patients, an independant job), of course, I'm happy to share all the workload with the nurses, I have a special place in my heart for nurses (they work SO hard!)... but seriously - puffers??? There are one million (at least 30) RN's working in the ER and 2 RT's.



I was called to a bed in Bblock of ER (aka "bad" block - for the sick patients - but better than Fblock for the "f***'d patients - I didn't make that up, but it explains it well - padded rooms, need I say more?). They needed me to run a venous gas (probably means nothing to the majority of those reading this). When I got there, the patient looked completely emaciated, basically on death's doorstep, and quite young (30's maybe). The results of the gas were this: pH6.8, PaCO2 9mmHg, PaO2 90 mmHg, HCO3- unmearsurable. Again, what this probably means to you is nothing. What this means to me is a not compatible with life metabolic acidosis. Turns out this poor soul had DKA (diabetic Ketoacidosis), which in nonmedical terms sucks. A few hours later "patient raging acidosis" was turning around thanks to rapid fluid rescusitation, however nurses were unable to get venous blood so I was called for an arterial poke. These pokes hurt. A lot. The follow up arterial gas was still dangerously acidotic, however "patient skin and bones" had reached capacity to sustain life, so things were looking up. While chatting over me jamming an 18 gauge syringe in to the radial artery and awaiting my 1 ML of blood that was perfusing way slower than I wanted thanks to basically no blood pressure, we had a nice chat. I was wondering how a young healthy individual gets a massive DKA attack (not that I asked), but apparently the patient was wondering the same thing. HOWEVER - what I did learn from "patient-I-have-been-in-your-room-entirely-way-too-long" is that it is completely normal (in fact, common) for people training for a 10 km race to lose 30 lbs in one month and pee about 15 liters a day. Are you serious? Umm... what kind of running do you do?



On a totally seperate note: Today's run was 32 km, 2hr 48min, 5:25 min/km, -17 degreesC, fresh snow and ice followed by a 15:00-23:30 shift. Gearing up for a much needed cutback of hours over Christmas (cut back from 60 hours to about 30 for 3 weeks) and planning to get some quality time in with my new running shoes.

In honor of my favorite nurse: If you ever need a puffer - I will give it to you with the best MDI and Spacer technique that I know! In return, if I ever have urine retention, you are the only one who can place a catheter in my urethra.

Could I ask for More?

Can you see me in there? Well not yet... but I'll be in there sandwiched between my fellow spandex-wearing-highly-developed-quad-powergel-eating people in 142 days from now.

Today I ran 30 km (18.75 mi) in 2:33:54 (5:15min/km, 8.2 min/mi). My cheeks are sunburnt. My kitties were sitting by the door waiting to greet me upon completion. My feet weighed 38 lbs each due to slush absorption into the gel cushioning layer of my Asics (Does that mean they are doing their job?). Clearly, this was the best day of my week... My life is perfect.

5 Minutes of Fame

As always, I dream of updating this blog daily, but it just doesn't happen... Could be due to various factors, largely revolving around my lack of spare time. C'est la vie.

For various reasons, this year has brought many new experiences to my life, one of them being that I have aquired a very small, low key, nano-sized amount of celebrity status in my very (VERY) normal non-celebrity life. I am going to enjoy every minute of it because I can garauntee that it is going to come to a very abrupt hault in the very near future. My start of star-dom began back in March when I was contacted by a reportor from The Calgary Herald, asking if she could do a story on me about teenage obesity, weightloss, inspiring stories, etc, etc, etc. It turns out my mom had accomplished her motherly duty and advertised my story when replying to an editorial about teenage obesity, they thought it was worth a story (who knew?) and I got a whole half page with a giant picture. You can read this story here: http://www.calgaryherald.com/health/Marathoner+shares+lesson+healthy+living/2625818/story.html

Who knew that people actually read the newspaper? I showed up at both school and work that day and someone had posted the article on the wall for everyone to read. It's humbling to be the center of attention (not that I really minded it for a brief moment). Coincidentally, this article ran in the paper less than 2 weeks before we dealt with our condo fire, which was actually quite a story for Calgary. Craig and I ended up being all over the news (the media loved us cause we had a dramatic firefighter/kitten rescue and we had a pretty good sob story...10 days away from moving). The newspaper article brought about a shocking amount of attention, I got the most random emails and requests - how did people find me anyways? Someone asked me to run a race to support the troops in the middle east (what they heck? - the article was talking about teenage obesity, not my political opinions). I was asked to film an episode on "X-weighted" (aka Canada's low budget version of Biggest Loser), I never saw it air, but the thought of seeing myself on TV doesn't really excite me. Anyways, my fame simmered down until I was contacted by someone from Impact magazine wanting to do a story on me for their inspirational athlete's section. Again, I am humbled (and feeling ever so slightly awkward) cause my life doesn't feel very inspirational, it just feels like me, living my normal life, highly entertained by very simple things. My Impact story was in the Sept/Oct issue (I can't find an online link to prove it, so you'll just have to believe me). On top of all this fame (sadly, no fortune), I write a weekly nutrition article for this fabulous-high-traffic blog (it's my blog, I can advertise all I want): http://www.figandfennel.wordpress.com/ (I go by the alias Ironsister on here - as in, it's my sisters blog). THEN - I was recently contacted by someone on Calgary's CityTV to be on Breakfast TV. They scheduled me a few weeks back but I was bumped for a better story (I guess this is common for Z-list stars), as of now, I am reschedule for December 2 to talk about my opinion on staying fit through the winter months (from a normal person's perspective). If I get bumped again, I won't be offended. What on earth am I going to wear?

I say all this for one reason: I was brought back to real life this past week at a Mach 3 speed. I was quickly reminded that I am, in no way, shape or form, a celebrity runner. In fact, I am so far from it, almost like the equivalent of saying that Naomi Campbell and I are twins. Let me state the many reasons why: The world does not accomodate my running schedule. Not even a little bit. This could be seen in the fact that I work 12 hour shifts, that means I run at either 430 in the morning before a 12 hour shift, 730 in the evening after a 12 hour shift, 430 in the afternoon before a 12 hour shift, or 730 in the morning after a 12 hour shift. In Calgary, all of these options mean that it is cold and there is snow and it is dark (for 11.89 months anyways). If I was a celebrity runner, I would roll out of bed after a good long sleep in (till 630) and choose to do a run at my leisure. Next, the weather hates me. I can take the cold, in fact, I embrace it -bring it on! I can dress for it, and I have no problem looking like a complete idiot with frosted eyelashes and multiple layers, but the ice... I cannot fight it, it always seems to win. As a celebrity runner, I would live in a different climate and I would have a cleared 100 kms of private pathway to use whenever I chose. Further, senior citizens hate me. In fact they loathe me. I don't know why, but whenever I am out running and seniors see me, for some reason, they move in to the middle of the sidewalk, making it impossible for me to pass without getting a shoe full of snow (or mud puddle), and they glare the entire time. I try my very hardest to follow all of the courtesy running rules that exist, and when I see a senior citizen coming, I put on my nicest, sincerest smile ever (the same smile I give patients as I'm going in for a good deep tracheal suction), they still hate me. Also, I have come to realize that I actually yeild to pets. That's right. I have to leave the sidewalk so that another pedestrians dog can keep their paws dry and clean. I'm pretty sure that celebrity runners do not deal with this (well, I bet senior citizens hate them too, but they aren't subjected to running through seniorville on their way to the entrance of Fish Creek Park).

My list could go on and on - but the truth is, no matter how many times I have a small brush with fame, I'm just a normal girl doing a normal (somewhat) hobby. Luckily, for me, I don't do it for anyone or anything else, and every mud puddle I run through, every glaring look I get from the 75plus population, every thermal layer and odd timed run is more than worth it for me. Plus, maybe my idea of a celebrity runner isn't totally accurate...

In other important news, the Boston trip is totally and completely booked, which brings me a sigh of relief and more excitment. Thanks to my travel agent cousin, we got some great flights, and decided to extend our trip by an extra day... There was just WAY too much to fit in to such a short time, so now we are going from the Friday until the Tuesday (race day is Monday). I found us a good hotel (by good, I actually mean affordable) that is about 4 miles from the finish line, it's not ideal (See! - all the celebrity runners will be staying right downtown in the Financial District of Boston where all the action is) - but that would have required lottery winnings to afford. Although the website makes this hotel look more than adequate, I have a bad reputation for Hotel bookings as it was my responsibility to book a Hotel for a Seattle Marathon trip a few years back - it ended up being a Howard Johnson that was literally attached to an S&M store in a exceptionally low-income area. We refer to it as the "HoJo in the Hood"... I thought I would redeem myself at the most recent Vancouver Marathon when I booked us in to the Fairmont Hotel Vancouver, with which we were upgraded to the Gold Club (can you say - "Way out of our league!"), but that actually made it worse because I feel like I could get used to the extreme posh-ness. Cambridge Super8 - please don't let me down.

As for training - well, I'm always in training (often for no reason). I think in January I'll think of a game plan to keep things exciting, until then, I'll stick with my usual 80 ish kilometers a week.

Tis the season for Cute-ness!

More Thoughts on Boston

It's a glorious 20 degree day in November, there are Christmas drinks at Starbucks and we gain an extra hour of sleep this weekend... There is really no reason not to feel great today, but I'm having one of those exhausted, burnt out, cannot go on for another second - moments. This happens to me periodically, I am thrilled with all of the things in my life that keep me busy and going for every waking moment - but I still have my moments. I think ultimately the shift work gets to me from time to time. I can't imagine doing an office job, or a mon-fri bankers hours type job, but the change over from nights to days, days to nights, late evenings to early mornings, 12 hour shifts to 8 hour shifts... takes its toll on my body. I may loose 10 years off my life (as studies have shown) thanks to this, but it's a worthy sacrifice, so I do my best not to complain very often. Today, I'm drawing very deep from the abyss within me to find some positivity... However, I believe the solution may be for me to take this time to meditate and reflect on the finer things in life... Primarily, Boston.



I've already documented my border-line obsessive lure to Boston, my passion to rule the roads with a Boston title, my dream for the last number of years. But there are more reasons that I am drawn to Boston. This is a top 5 list of reason's why Boston speaks my love-language:



5: I live for a challenge: Boston is a tough course, the weather is unpredictable, the 4 Newton hills are killer, Heart-Break Hill is named appropriately. I need something to keep me going, and a challenge like this is just what I need! I find that I have a certain type of personality, I like to refer to it as Type-J personality. This personality may require professional help at times, due to this sick and twisted need to accomplish random, painful yet self satisfying things. I recently purchased a book by Michael Connelly called "26 Miles to Boston" (by recently, I mean today), and as I cracked the cover with a flutter of excitement (perhaps that same flutter that I still feel after the successful procurement of blood when I do an arterial poke), my eyes welled up with fresh tears when I read the foreword by John "the elder" Kelley. Mr. Kelley is a spectator of Boston, two-time champion, 61-time participant and Grand Marshall of the race. He says this "The Boston Marathon in its present form is the greatest marathon in the world....No other marathon in the world can match the race for its color, longevity, glamour, prestige and history. This is the race that the best runners in the world want to win even above the Olympic Marathon". Dear John Kelley - I love you. You just spoke the most romantic and purposeful words that my heart has ever heard. Boston Marathon Challenge - Bring it on! Heart Break Hill - Eat your heart out!

4: The trip: Not only does April 18th, 2011 appeal to me, April 16, 17, and 19th also bring so much excitement. Much like my Ironman experiences, it's not just the day that means something, its the whole trip. I am so excited that Alison and I are doing this together, it is fitting, and perfect in so many ways. Of course, I would LOVE it if all of my favorite people could come, that I could share this history making day with everyone in my family, but reality is, travel can be pricey, it's not the most ideal time of year, and it is what it is. Craig continues to be my biggest supporter, in fact, he deserves his own Ironman medal (x2) for managing to survive living with me and all that I have to offer (aka "my moods"). His support will always be one of my hugest motivations - But Craig and I will be saving our joint trip to Boston for a more NFL season appropriate date, where we can wear matching his/hers Tom Brady jersey's and cheer like maniacs at a New England Patriots game all while getting drunk on stadium Heroin Beer. The Boston Marathon trip must be reserved for my biggest supporter since the first day I laced up a pair of Asics. Alison, who has recently taken to understanding the finer things in life, like running, understands what draws me to Boston, she talks in runners lingo, and her day of Boston spectating is as serious an accomplishment as running the course. Aside from that, we shop the same (and there WILL be shopping), we eat the same (and there WILL be eating), we both like 6am (well... I like it, she tolerates it), we have similar interests (must get a picture of us at Harvard), we finish each others sentences (which makes conversations go so smoothly) - all around, she'll be my perfect travel buddy.

3: The Food: This sort of goes without saying much more (but...I will). Boston Cream Donuts. Never had one, I've been waiting for the real things for a real long time. It's gonna happen, and it's gonna happen soon. The truth is, I'm not really a donut person, for a few reasons (health, calories, fat content, blah, blah, blah), but I'm especially not a "cream/custard/jelly - filled" donut person. I just don't like em. This will change. I WILL be eating a Boston Cream Donut, and I WILL be enjoying it. I will also be finding a way to transport a fresh one back for Craig. Aside from the Donuts, there are so many other food related events that will be shaping our holiday in Boston - Alison and I LOVE markets, coffee shops, sushi, sandwich/salad/deli bars, health food stores, desserts, etc, etc, etc. A new place, new food, new places to go - I just hope that we have enough time to cover all of our bases. It's fine if we don't - we'll make the most of every available moment that we can. I must also find a way to smuggle some real, fresh, New England Clam chowder across the border (and on a plane) to bring it home for Craig (I'm a good wife like that!).

2: The Bragging Rights: I'm going to have to put my humility on the shelf for this season -it's gonna be tough, but I'm up for the challenge. Boston is common knowledge, there are pretty few people out there who aren't familiar with the road race. So, when I say I'm registered, it's hard not to sit back and enjoy the moment. Not just everyone is familiar with an Ironman, so it doesn't always mean much when I say I've done it. In fact, there was a time once when I was training for an Ironman, and some said this exactly "Oh yeah, my sister did one of those once, it took her 2 hours!" Ummm.... that's a sprint triathlon, they don't really compare - but is it really worth sounding like a total snob and correcting the unfamiliar? I don't think so. On this note, I am actually quite thankful that there is no "Boston Tatoo" that comes with this event. If there was, I would HAVE to get it, and as it stands, I already have two tatoo's (one being the Ironman tatoo, that I HAD to get, and the other being the result of 18 year old peer pressure that I HAD to get to fit in...). This is two tatoo's more than I ever intended on getting, it's not really my style and there are only so many places that I can tastefully get inked (that are also easy to hide), I've maxed out (x2) - I really don't want to HAVE to subject myself to more permanent body art. And... now the World Wide Web is aware about the secret snob that exisits in me... darn, I've been trying to keep that a secret.

1: The Jacket: I have coveted this article of clothing for a very very long time. There are very few set things on our Boston agenda, in fact, there are only two. One - 10:30 am, April 18th, be at the start line, two - absolute first stop upon arriving in Boston - John Hancock Race Expo, Boston Athletic Association attire booth, purchase the brightest, most obnoxious Boston Marathon Jacket (by brightest I mean, most neon shade of pink available). I will be wearing said jacket in a permanent fashion from that day onward. I've seen people with these jackets before, I've been tempted to dis-robe and lay my clothes on the ground for these individuals in a sort of "Jesus entering Jerusalem on Palm Sunday" type way. It is finally my turn. Finally! Don't worry, I won't expect the red carpet (palm tree) entrance - but I won't reject it either. I'll have to bring my dad a Boston Jacket back as well - he's kind of a jacket horror, so it's only fitting.

Yup, I'm feeling a million times better already!

Confirmation!

Life is busy for me, as usual, I just finished an 8 day stretch of work, one day off, then another 6... this is normal, so I'm well conditioned to it, and I don't have too many complaints. I have enjoyed every moment of the last two weeks, because I can honestly say that there has been very few moments where I haven't had Boston on my mind. I'm sure the novelty will wear off, and if it doesn't, I may stand to lose the remaining of my few friends (those who have decided to stick with me thru this ultra-busy year), as I'm sure they will be sick of hearing about everything-Boston.... But I think I'll reveal in the moment for just a short while longer!

Until a few days after the fact, I didn't realize how incredibly close to not registering in the Boston Marathon I had come! This year was a record breaking registration year... the entry's sold out in exactly 8 hours and 2 minutes. Apparently the norm is more like a few weeks, even two months before maximum capacity is reached... in fact, I know that the Las Vegas marathon is historically a favorite for Boston-wannabe's, it runs on the first weekend of December every year and is the last qualifying race for the upcoming April Boston Marathon. I guess if that is someone's plan this year, they won't have any hope at all. On registration day, I was actually working at 7am, the same time that online registration opened. Being the Boston virgin that I am, I didn't really know what to expect for the registration process. I didn't really think it would be a huge panic to register at 7am on the dot... but yet I didn't want to risk it. For my first Ironman, I lined up at 3 am, with a massive crowd of other hopefuls, and waited paitently until 9am when registration opened. That year, the 2007 race, was the 25th anniversary, so it was projected to sell out in record time. The stress of that Penticton trip aged me a good 3 additional decades! It's quite an emotional commitment (let alone financial!!!) to plan for these events, and I particularly loath things that I don't have complete and utter control of, so until confirmed confirmation is in my hands, I don't sleep, I have hot flashes and I feel particularly irritable. I sailed through the Ironman registration and was confirmed by about 9:15 (sadly the damage was done, as seen by the additional lines on my brow). As for Boston, I couldn't handle the stress of missing registration, so I got team-Boston leader Alison to fulfill her sisterly duties and register me. Alison is incredibly organized, worked as an executive assistant to a government cabinet minister, holds a Master's degree, etc etc etc. If there is one person in the world who won't let me down.... it is her! But she failed, and she failed miserably (luckily to redeem herself in glorious triumph). As an incredibly amazing turn in my fate, I was only working an 8 hour shift this day and I slipped out of work about 10 minutes earlier than usual, about 2:55. I have a usual routine when leaving the hospital (everyday), I turn my phone on for the first time after 8 or 12 hours, and before checking various important things (like facebook), I always call Alison. Usually to check in, debrief the day, sometimes I offload a million things (aka "bitching"), and mostly to hear if there has been any breaking news (on TMZ) in the real world that I missed while being consumed in my hospital world. When she didn't mentioned anything about Boston registration, I was a little bit confused, because I was certain that it is ALL that she thought about ALL day (just like me)... eventually we got there.... and for the first time in her life - Alison forgot to do something (potentially at my expense... panic... stress induced aging commences....). We hung up, she immediately registered me, called me back, we laughed about it, and then carried on with the more important details of the day. It wasn't until later that I learned that Alison was LITERALLY 4 minutes away from the cut off time. I just gained another wrinkle by writing that! The stress still sends me in to a third degree heart block - and my registration has actually been confirmed! Oh my gosh - I just re-read the sentence and I feel the skin under my chin sagging! The stress! Can you imagine!?!? I would still trust Alison to do anything for me - she redeemed herself (and more!) when I recieved this in the mail exactly two weeks later:




Arrived via first class mail, direct from Boston: the word's I have been dreaming to read my entire life. Let the celebrations begin, because it is official. There is no turning back.

My demographics - It states that my citizenship is American here, which has been since been corrected - otherwise those are the details that will forever be with me Qualifying Time: 3:35:17


Even the cats couldn't contain their excitment (as per usual daily routine when I pick up the mail and they immediately sit on it).

Boston Bound!

It's been a long time! So let me update my blog-o-sphere on the last year of my life in one paragraph or less:

Last fall/winter was fairly uneventful and unexciting, which eventually led way to the high activity and excitment of my spring/summer. In March Craig and I bought our first house, after searching for the perfect place for us to move our family of four (2 humans, 2 cats), we found our dream home (our dream home for now anyways....) and were thrilled with the sale of our condo (3 days on the market!). 10 days before "move out of condo/move in to house" day, our condo building went up in flames and that was the end of that chapter. This led to A) the worlds easiest move known to man (2 cars, 2 cats and that's it) B) a massive insurance claim and C) a very fond (and gracious) reintroduction to my account with "The Bank of Dad" (for the millionth time in my short 27 years). LOTS of shopping and then some more shopping found us settled in our new place just in time for me to celebrate my 2nd wedding anniversary and my 20th marathon on May 2nd in Vancouver. After 20 solid attempts, I qualified for the Boston Marathon with a 3:35 marathon, and I got to celebrate with Alison as she ran her first half marathon! June brought me to the start of my final year of a decade worth of post secondary education, which is being spent working full time (12 hour days/nights) as a Respiratory Therapist Intern at the Rockyview General Hospital (by intern, that means, I pay tuition, work full time, and not get paid for it.... which is really just so great). I'm continuing with my job at the Foothills Hospital in the mean time, working 2 days a week for a total of 60 hours a week in Calgary hospitals. Luckily... I love it. In August we went on our annual "Neary family vacation" to the Okanogan, which proved to be, as always, the best week of the year.

Today, on October 18th, Calgary is waiting with great anticipation for the announcement of our new mayor and city council. However, this day has SO much more meaning to me than I think I can even fathom. While many were out with their "Barb is the Best" and "Nenshi or die" campaigns fighting to the last second, I was awaiting 7am when the 115th Boston Marathon registration opened. While so many people are concerned with the future of our city and things like ring roads and airport tunnels, I think the truly important message from today is: What am I going to wear, in 6 months from today, when I line up at the start line for the Boston Marathon?

I've missed writing this past year, as I thoroughly enjoyed this blog (knowing fully that the only person who actually reads this is my mom - which I'm ok with). And what better reason to start my online diary again, than perhaps accomplishing the greatest goal and journey of my life to date! I have dreamt about the Boston Marathon for years. I have run 20 marathons, over 7 years with one ultimate goal in mind. My two ironman finishes, pale in comparison to qualifing and running Boston. This is the absolute and number 1 thing on my bucket list. It almost brings a tear to my eye thinking about.

Aside from being the most prestigous road race on the planet, and aside from being known for it's incredibly challenging course - It is with great humility that the running community of the world looks at Boston marathoners in a whole new light. Some may say that a "real" runner is one who has lost their toe nails to longs runs (check), or one who runs in minus 30 degree Calgary winters (check). Perhaps a "real" runner is known as someone who has accomplished a 10 km race (check), or half marathon (check) or marathon (check) or 50 km run (check) or even an Ironman (check, check). Others think of runners as ones who have placed in the age groups and won races (check), people who eat nasty gooey things (check), people who wear spandex 30+ hours a week (check), people who join run club and have the token running room reflective jacket (check). But as an aspiring runner and one who has dreamed of being a "real" runner - let me tell you the truth. The only people out there who are the real deal, who can wear the title of runner, and wear it proud, the only ones that deserve right of way on the pathways, the only ones who Sunday morning run club should yeild to, the Obama's of the running world - These people are solely Boston finishers. No matter how much I want it, and how many miles my feet have carried me over in the past decade, and how much I've dreamt about it, I am not a real runner - not yet anyways. But let my countdown begin, because that day is coming for me, it's so close, I can almost feel the victory melting in my mouth, almost like the taste of a Boston Cream Donut (which I intend to be eating at the time of my victory). My life is pretty close to perfect, but on April 18th, 2011, I think my life will reach it's own personal definition of perfection.

Don't get me wrong - I am WELL aware that I am just a recreational athlete. I will never go to the olympics, or anywhere near it. I will never be known as a famous runner, I will never make money doing it. My name will never be a household name. I will never represent Canada, or any other country, as an athlete. I know I am just an average person, with an average goal. I know that there are 20,000 people who run the Boston Marathon every year, I know that there are about a bazillion people who could run circles around me. But for me, in this life, this represents so much more to me than any of those other things I mentioned. This represents an unrealistic goal, that with a lot of hard work, a lot of time and a lot of wonderful memories, somehow became a realistic goal. Put me in a room with other athletes and I am very quickly humbled - but for just one sentence and one nano second, the selfish, prideful, self satisfied person in me wants to gloat. I rock!

It only seems fitting that my sister joins me, like she has for every other marathon I've run, and we celebrate together as I show the world (my world) that this chubby teenager is actually a REAL runner. This will be my diary of training and my thoughts on running while I prepare my body for the ultimate in running... The Boston Marathon!



Proof I'm still alive: Pre Vancouver marathon (and qualifying for Boston) with Alison (1st half marathon), Dani (first 8 km), Jen (first half marathon) and Whitney (first marathon)

Healthy

Every year at Thanksgiving, we have a family tradition to go around the dinner table and say one thing that we are thanful for. This usually turns into something comical and is mostly done to please the highly emotion women of our family (mom). This past year, I got to start, which meant I had the oppertunity to steal all of the good choices first... I always feel sorry for the poor sucker at the end of the table who has to think of something original after going through 12 other people's ideas of why we are thankful. I was going to choose family or friends, and then screw everyone else up because secretly that is what everyone else was hoping to say... but I said I was thankful for good health instead. Don't get me wrong, I'm still pretty sure I made at least 6 out of the 12 people have to rethink their ideas, because obviously we are all thankful for our health, and obviously this seems like a very easy, somewhat thought-less answer to the Thankful question.

I've thought about this quite a bit since Thanksgiving though. Perhaps we don't give quite enough credit to how truly blessed we are. It's very easy for me to think about health in terms of kilometers ran, negative splits, and supersets. If this is the case, than I am very thankful. Although I work hard for it, I guess that means I am very healthy, cause I think my body could run forever, I am confident that I can lift my own body weight, or more, my heart works efficiently, my lungs don't tire very easily and frankly... I have buns of steal! Luckily, I love doing what I do, and that's exactly why I do it, however, it's only a very small contributor to my overall health. Although I enjoy the benefits of having a heavy-duty-pumping machine (aka healthy heart), if I were to drastically reduce the amount of exercise I do in a week, I would still be blessed with good health... great health.

I work in the hospital, and I'm studying in the health care field, so I have definately been exposed to sickness and disease, on a daily basis. I've seen otherwise healthy people freakishly die, I've seen people who are far too young die, or become dibilitated in some way or another. I've seen people suffer with permanent handicaps, I've simply seen just a lot of suffering. Of course, no one ever deserves to be sick or diseased... Well... Almost no one.... (there - I said it, it's mean, but we were all thinking it!). There are times when people bring illness on themselves (hello to all you smokers out there), but far more often than not people just get sick. I suppose UB is a great example of this, I don't think he could have done anything more for his health, his lifestyle should have had him crossing an Ironman finish line in his 80's.

I don't really know why things happen the way that they do... and that in itself requires an entirely different blog (and different author!). However, I do know that in the mean time, I plan to cherish every day that I have good health as I would consider it one of the greatest gifts of all time. I'm not going to turn into some chemical/germ/microbe free crazy activist who only wears organic cotton and never showers cause even that is harmful... but I am going to continue to do my best, my very best, for as long as I am alive to care for my body. And every single day that I wake up and I can breath on my own, and my heart pumps blood on its own, and my legs move and my brain remembers, I'll be thankful for. Because one day, IF something were to ever happen to me, then I can have peace of mind knowing that I took care of my gift to the best of my ability... anything else is just plain old bad luck (or whatever else one chooses to believe...).

Primarily, as a reminder to myself, but perhaps a good reminder for everyone, this is a list of PRACTICAL things that I think are crucial for every day living to ensure optimal health.

10. Our body is largely composed of water, we need it, and we need a lot of it. 8 glasses a day minimum, however we require an additional 2 glasses of water for any alcoholic, caffinated or high sugar content beverage we have. Also to be noted, I'm pretty sure a venti starbucks size is 20 ounces, so thats equivalent to 2.5 glasses therefore 5 additional glasses of water. Don't know about you... but this will make me spend 3 out of my 24 hours in the day peeing. Not worth it.

9. Stress is a killer. It will eat away at you from the inside-out. Eliminate it. Eliminate NOW. The best way I can suggest eliminating it is to quit your job, move into the mountains and live off of the land. If that's a bit to extreme, may I also suggest simply rethinking life priorities (If Dr. Phil can give professional advice, then so can I!)

8. Get a cute, fluffy, smooshed-in-face cat and name him Bedford.

7. Ensure that there are children in your life. They are the best way to keep you young, make you laugh, and teach you about the real miracles in life (disclaimer, they may also be the cause of previously mentioned stress... in this case, I revert back to point #8).

6. Plan your wardrobe so that every single day of the week you have a minimum of one pink item included in your outfit. It's been rough for me, but Respiratory Therapy students are required to wear red scrubs (SO excited to graduate!), so I have large amount of pink underpants to choose from on a daily basis. On my days away from being a student, and just working at my normal job, I ensure that I wear pink scrubs from head to toe.

5. Excersice daily in some capacity. If you're like me, than you have a well thought out exercise plan that involves each muscle group, heart rate zones and you think in Watts. If you're like every other normal personal in the world, 20-30 minutes of an increased heart rate is all you need. So simply, take the stairs, take your kids/pets (really, is there a difference?) for walks, go to the gym, join a club, get a hobby...etc etc etc.

4. Eat clean. It's easy to get very hard core in the food department, and I'd say I'm borderline, however, conveniently for me, I enjoy cooking, I learned quite a bit about nutrition when I studied nutrition (go figure), and my sister is an even better cook, and equally as conscious in the same area (and I help myself to her fridge on a regular basis). On that note, it's easy for food to turn into something that controls your life (hello point #9!), and it's very easy for food to turn into a reward or a punishment. This isn't really a healthy way of looking at food, and probably defeats the purpose of healthy living. I like to look at food as fuel for my body, so I want to fuel myself accordingly. I find this helps me make really good choices the vast majority of the time, but I don't feel like choices are weighing over my head like there is a "right" and "wrong". Anyways, this is a lesson that took me many years to learn, and I'm sure many more years to come to perfect... but it's been a rewarding journey.

3. Surrond yourself with good people/friends. This requires little explaination, aside from me saying that I am SO rich with friendship (I'm stealing Alison's quote on this one). If friends were worth money, I'm pretty sure people would nick name me "money bags" and I'd give Bill Gates a run for his money (so punny! hahaha). I might not have a lot of friends, but the ones I do have are keepers! People who are loners, or who live alone for too long turn into weirdo's... this simply cannot be good for one's health. On that note, people who hang out with mean people... turn in to mean people (also hazardous to ones health).

2. Get enough sleep. We need 8 hours a night and I'm pretty sure the world is FULL of sleep deprived people. If you've ever been cut off in traffic in that morning commute, or had a grumpy cashier at Safeway... I can almost garuntee that they didn't get eight hours of sleep last night! Unfortunately, I need some work in this department (a lot of work). Although I think I function well off of little sleep, I'm sure Craig would beg to differ. That said, I am a shift-worker, and studies have already shown that I will lose 10 years off of my life thanks to this. Oh well... I'm taking one for the team...

1. Laugh every day, in fact, laugh every hour. People who are too serious age faster and look ugly (my opinion anyways). Combining all of the above points does not make it very diffucult to find reason to be joyous. From my experience, this is the easiest thing of all to do to stay healthy. Studies have shown that 1 hour of extreme laughter instantly vanishes wrinkles. It's true - I'm pretty sure I read that in the Bible somewhere too (not quite sure which version - maybe something a bit more contemporary like The Message).

I'm so very very very grateful for my health. It's one of the worlds greatest gifts, and the only way that I know how to thank God for this gift is to take care of it.

Man Push Ups

It's been a while... far too long really, but life got oddly busy, and I somehow lost my desire to write. Suddenly last week, I missed it a lot. I suppose now that Ironman is finished, this blog's purpose is largely selfish. I can write whatever I want, no one even really has to read to it. It will be my online-personal-self-expressive journal (hahaha just kidding - I am definately not that deep!).

As a brief update, regarding my shingles recovery, post partum depression and post ironman recovery: It took a good month for all of the nerve pain to clear up, my doctor perscribed some pain killers specifically for nerve-type pain, but I opted to stick it out like a real Ironman - just kidding - I chose not to take them because I see all the patients at the hospital get super constipated when they take this specific drug and I wasn't ready to do that to my smoothly-running-well maintained-cleaned out daily bowels, nor do I want to gag back psyllium husks! Luckily, it's been 3 weeks since I've felt any pain what so ever, so I'm just going to assume that I am done with that (thank God!). I had a bit of a hard time cutting back on the training, you just get so used to it, that it seems weird not to plan my life around long bikes and runs and fitting in a second work out for the day! I'm sure I wasn't the only one who was out for an "easy and short" 25 km run less than 3 weeks after the race, then straight to the pool after to finish the workout off with 12 x 50 m sprints (however, I may have been the only one doing that while holding my insides together in pain).

I work very well with goals, like for example, completing an Ironman, or qualifying for the Boston Marathon. But then when I complete the goal, I need another one asap to avoid the dreaded postpartum (as mentioned previously). For the first time in a very long time I don't really have a specific goal, and I am happy to say that I think I'm actually doing OK. No irratic, compulsive, psychotic, irritable behaviors (not yet anyways). I am going to run the Vancouver Marathon (Alison is going to do the half!!! Woot Woot!), I'm hoping to have a PB in Vancouver, so I guess it's a pseudo-goal. But I won't seriously start training for that (outside of my usual weekly long runs and speed work) until February, so in the mean time I've picked up a new challenge, and I've started doing a lot of weight lifting, but challenging myself far beyond what I've ever done before.

I've always stayed away from heavy lifting because I'm a runner and runner's don't do that... we run, and to build muscles we run hills, and to get faster we do fartleks and to run longer we do long runs and to look better we get coordinated Running Room Reflective jackets and we run in a herd on Sunday mornings taking up 3 lanes of a 4 lane street. It's what we do, and we do it well! Until recently, my opinion of heavy lifters were that they probably had itty bitty lungs under all that bulk because they never do cardio, that they live off of a trio of rice, soy and whey protein powders as well as various muscle building amino acid supplements, and quite frankly, they spend three quarters of their actual work out too busy checking themselves out in the mirror. I could be stereotyping here... but as a runner, I'm sure I've been a victim of that runner stereotype on more than one occassion, and let's all be honest... it's true. Athletes are all weird in their own little weird way. However.... I have managed to maintain running about 80 - 100 km/week while doing 3 intense heavy weight lifting work outs - and I have yet to ingest a single ounce of weirdo supplements, I don't check myself out in the mirror, and my aerobic capacity has actually improved! I've bench pressed, chin-ed up and push-ed up more weights, more reps and with far more intensity than ever before in my life (and shall I clarify... by bench press, I mean I've moved to 10 lbs plates from my previous "bar only" personal best). A weight lifting workout, if done with a certain technique and designed from an expert in the field, can actually be one hell of a workout! By that I mean, sweating, tears, pain, sweating, aerobic, anaerobic, not walking for three days after and more sweating! It's great, I couldn't be happier!

This brings me to my next point... it makes such a difference to have a expert advice in the field, and I am not refering to the beef-head or dumb blond (there I go, stereotyping again... and there is nothing wrong with being blond) that took a 4 hour online course to become "Personal Trainer". I've always been a big believer in being well informed, hence my many many years of involvement in the Running Room Clinics, as well as having a triathlon coach, it made all the difference for me. How convenient for me that my closest friend from school happens to be a personal trainer with a Bachelor of Kinesiology and quite big into weight lifting herself (which is actually an under statement because I'm pretty sure she could bench 4 x's her body weight if she really tried). Whitney has taught me SO much, my idea of working out has really been transformed. I have learned to fit SO much more in to an even shorter period of time, I've learned about working certain muscle groups and how to optimize it, I've learned about super sets and other great things like that, I've learned that I am far stronger than I ever gave myself credit for (Hello people... I can actually do chin ups!!!), but of far most importance - I have learned that doing a "Whitney Leg Workout" and attempting a long run anytime within the next three days is pure and utter torture (the kind I like)!

Also very interesting to be noted - along with my previous stereotype of girls who do man-pushups, I just assumed this would mean I would "bulk up" and watch the weight on the scale increasing. I always give a chuckle to the "muscle weighs more than fat excuse" even though it's true, I think it's used far to lightly (as in "I haven't lost any weight cause I gained muscle" - possibly, but not usually the case). I'm not a big weigh-myself obsesser, in fact, I generally try and stay away from it. I get myself weighed every year at the doctors office, so I use that as my guide line and try to stick with it. I'll jump on the scale once in a blue moon at the gym, but for no real reason (and for some reason I always get suckered in when people have scales sitting out in the bathrooms at their homes). I was a victim to the scale for FAR too many years, so now, for the most part, if I feel good, then it's all good. We had to get weighed when we registered ourselves the day before the race at Ironman, I was 128 lbs. I had my once-in-a-blue-moon lure to the scale today at the gym and I was 123 lbs - so I guess my stereotype was wrong (not that this had anything to do with weight loss or weight gain, just and interesting observation). Perhaps it shouldn't be a surprise to me because Whitney makes me look like a whimp when we work out together, and she is very petite - so I guess bigger isn't really stronger.

It's a fun new project, I love working out with Whitney, we go easily in our 70 minute lunch break at school and then I spend the afternoon in classes sitting by myself in a corner because I am STILL sweating. I still get to run as much as I want(my first love), but I think I'm standing just a wee bit taller (all those core muscles are holding me together stronger!). Don't worry, I have no plans to get super tanned, lube myself in baby oil, clothed in a inny-weeny-yellow-polka-dot-bikini and compete in any bodybuilding/muscle-man type competition (that is SO not me!). It's just all for fun...with a 6-pack as the result (however, I have yet to see the 6 pack).

Ironman Blues

What I would like to know is...

How does someone go from training their a** off, every single day, multiple hours daily, living, breathing, sleeping, eating - all things Ironman... to couch-bound and in pain for a week, nothing to train for, no big goal, and quite frankly, no real reason to live???

What I can tell you...

The result is one big case of post-partum depression (so-to-speak)!

I'm having a hard time with this one. I think I just enjoyed myself far to much during the training, perhaps I just didn't want it to end. In 2007 I had a small case of post-Ironman (aka post-partum) depression, but just a few weeks earlier Craig and I got engaged, so it was after Ironman that I got to start wedding planning - which, of course, is every girls dream, and every girls chance to turn into a controlling-bossy-picky-princessy-freak-of-nature Bridezilla. I think I bought my wedding dress the week after Ironman. This was a very good cure for any type of "blues" that I was experiencing, and perhaps the start of a long year of "blues" for my dad (thanks to a very large outstanding bill from The Bank of Dad).

I understand this year was a bit different, I really was quite sick for a few days after. I think I could describe the pain I had as almost as bad as my whole "Malaria out in the middle of no-man's Land somewhere in Sub-Sahara Africa" experience. But the most horrible thing of all is going from 25 + hours/week of training to pain on inhalation at rest! Who would have thought that Shingles could cause so much internal pain??? I thought only Grandma's and chemo patients got shingles (apparently... so do vegetarian, healthy, 26 year old, marathon running, girls).

The guilt started to settle in on Thursday, which was also probably one of the worst days for pain. All I could hear was the voice in my head telling me how badly I needed to get my butt in gear and get back to my training. What exactly I'm training for, is unknown, but the voices in my head were telling me my finely defined bulging quads and hamstrings (perhaps that's a bit of an exaggeration...) were shrinking down into mere single strands of DNA. If I didn't get back at it, I would be THAT GIRL who by-passes the leg press machine only to stroll on the treadmill with my totally coordinated lululemon uniform and matching pink ipod while my poney tail is flapping in the breeze of my 25 min/mile stroll (side note - I do LOVE lululemon anything, and I do have a pink ipod). Dear God - please just kill me now!!! Every moment I was on the couch (gasping for air) I could see my Ironman tatoo fading more and more into a blob of black ink on my ankle and eventually spelling out the words "Lazy Ass".

I swear I'm not extreme at all - totally reasonable and realistic!

As a result, I probably pushed it a bit more than I should of (as in - running whilst holding my insides together in extreme pain). I found swimming was actually a bit of a relief to the pain (so there was a lot of swimming), particularly when I just took breaths on my left side. I also used the eliptical machine, which I normally would classify in the "sissy" category at the gym, but it was something my mom and I could do together, while we analyzed and solved all of the world's problems. Plus, I got to spend a lot of time enjoying our beautiful extended summer, I spent a lot of time outside walking. It wasn't anything like my Ironman training, but it at least quieted those screaming "lazy ass demons" for the time being.

Now that I'm feeling much better, and fully (and OVERLY) rested, I've finally been able to get back into my normal activity level, and I and thoroughly looking forward to going back to work (after my banishment from the hospital being a walking virus to immune compromised persons).

This has got me thinking though. Those Ironman administration people are geniuses! They have garunteed themselves an eternal paycheque! The reason that people go back year after year (after year...) is because it would be better to just suck it up, pay the money, and start the training again, then go through the awful, dreaded, post-partum depression! It's such a lonely, horrible, suicidal (again, not extreme at all!) time. Dark days! I feel like I am a heroin addict trying to break a habit. Ironman-ing is a cult... they suck you in, and unless you can break the addiction, you will never, EVER, be able to stop (just look at Sister Madonna!). So now that I've missed my oppertunity to sign up for IMC 2010, I find myself secretly getting up in the middle of the night researching ultra-marathons and other sick and twisted goals that I can start training for. It's like my fix - I have to sneak out of bed without waking up Craig, then clear the Web History so that I can't be traced. I was reading about the Kananaskis 100 km ultra marathon and I found a single tear rolling down my cheek as it pulled on my heart strings.

So what do I do next?

I was thinking of putting an ad in the newspaper that reads:

"Young female seeking new hobby. Must be extreme, time consuming, inflict pain, burn a minimum 5000 calories/day, inhibit a social life, but yet be oh-so very very satisfying to ultra-extreme-OCD type personality. Can take up to and including 30 hours per week of Requestor's spare time and must result in some kind of material merchandise (aka finisher's tshirt and medal). Bragging-Rights-Tatoo a plus, but not a requirement. Must be able to bring an entire cheering squad clad in pink (from head to toe) who make an obnoxious amount of noise. Please send applications ASAP!"

If that doesn't work... I suppose I can just stick it out and enjoy having an exceptionally understanding husband who puts up with my many many, MANY withdrawl symptoms (including but not limited to: crying, whining, pouting, raging, silent-treatment, random house-reorganizing, glaring, and bathroom hogging for exceptionally long baths).

It's been a week and a half, I'm sure the worst of it is over and I'm well on my way back to normal-ness. Before we know it, this will be just a distant memory, and I'll be far more interested in America's Next Top Model than into my Heart Rate Zones. Perhaps I'll join my local IA (Ironman's Anonymous) support group for recovering addicts - the accountability would be good for me! But, as long as Craig is offering foot massage's and letting me talk about having kids in the far nearer future than he is interested in... perhaps, I'll just milk it a wee bit longer...

This is the dress that saved me from my first case of post-partum depression - I guess I can't just go buy another one, but I'm thinking of hauling it out of retirement and wearing it around the house tomorrow. Maybe that's all I need. I can't wait to see Craig's reaction when he gets home from work and if for some reason, tomorrow is the day that he decides to invite ALL the boys over for beer after work - so be it! I'm very delicate these days!

Race Report

Here I am... Officially an Ironman for the 2nd time! And what a journey it has been...

I hardly know where to start, it was a really long and emotional day in so many ways.

I had a great sleep the night before the race, it was exactly what I needed! We had an early dinner, then one last evening beach visit, and we were all ready to pack in for the night. I was lights out by 9 pm, which made it very easy to be up and ready to pound back the carbs by 5 am. We left the hotel by 5:30, I felt really good, relatively stress free and fairly excited, so it was a much different race morning than 2007! We met Rachelle, a fellow athlete and Calgarian the day before at our hotel and it turned out to be a friendship that was great for all of us! We went down to the race together, stood in line for body marking and then double checked our bikes and had a last minute stress-pee. I met up with my family before I said my final goodbye, we met at the fences that seperated the athletes and spectators, so it was sort of like I was in jail, going off all by myself...

I met up with Carolyn and Sara so that we could start the race in the water together. I was never in a million years expecting to actually stick with Carolyn, but I was happy to at least start together. We started on the far left side of the start line, which was a much wiser choice in terms of not getting beaten up by the big boys that were front and center. On the negative side, I'm sure we added distance on to our swim, but that's fine with me. After the horn went off (much to my dissappointment, it wasn't a cannon blast like in previous years), we were on our way. I can't believe it when I say it... but I was on Carolyn's toes right away and I stayed on them the whole way! This is a mass swim start, it was nearly 2800 athletes all starting together, so how I managed this, I will never know! It was so great, Carolyn got to do all the work and I got a nice draft the whole swim. There were even a couple of times I had put my head up and slow down a bit, in fact, I'm pretty sure Carolyn was annoyed because I kept hitting her toes (she'd never admit it, but I bet it was annoying). I had to fight off a few people who were trying to get in my way, but I had no problem giving a good elbow jab or kick, and in the end it was worth it, because my swim time was 7 minutes faster than 2007!

Out of the water, there were tons of wet suit "strippers" waiting for us to rip those suits off as fast as possible, then off to grab my bike bag. I wore my tri suit under my wetsuit, so I only had to get my helmet, shoes, and glasses, and I was on my way to my bike. I had a 6 minute transition, which was fast enough for me, then I was on my way. I saw my whole crew of cheer leaders just a kilometer or two up mainstreet after I exited from the transition zone. It sure makes a difference to see people cheering for you, not that the streets weren't lined with thousands of spectators, but it was just nice to see some familar faces. Kind of felt like the Tour de France.

Unfortunately just minutes into the bike I felt a sharp, shooting pain in my back and side... and this was the beginning of what would be a LONG day of cramps, stitches and a heck of a lot of pain. I tried to stretch it out and let my stomach relax thinking it was just from too much lake water in my guts, but after about 30 km, I realized that I was just going to have to think about something else cause the pain wasn't going anywhere.

I tried to take my mind away from it and not let it ruin the experience, which was challenging, but I think I was somewhat successful in that. I enjoyed the bike ride as best as I could. I had a short stop before the Richter's Pass climb, the great volunteers held my bike while I did the famous port-a-potty squat. I tried to stretch out my back a bit thinking it might help with the cramps (it didn't) and took a minute to take in the moment. Back on my bike, I started the gruelling climb up Richters. I actually found the most relief from my stitches and side pain when I was doing the climbs, so oddly enough, I found myself finally being able to use some of those hard-earned quad muscles, I passed quite a few people on my way up the hills (normally not the wisest race strategy, but I at that point I already knew that my race strategy wasn't quite what I was planning anyways). Of course, whatever goes up, must go down.... so I got to hang on for dear life and ride my way down the other side of the mountain pass! I saw my odometer go over 65 km/hr - at which point I hit the brakes and started saying my prayers (quite scary when you actually think about it!). The Rollers weren't nearly as bad as I was excpecting but my back pain was starting to get unbearable. I held on until I got to my special needs bag at 120 km, after the Rollers and the horrible out and back (that I honestly thought was never going to end!!!). I was planning to stop for a little break and enjoy my cookies, have a stretch and pee break, but I was starting to get nervous that I might not get going again considering the pain I was in. So I got right back in to the saddle and was on my way. I passed The Bear Fruitstand and dreamed of my milkshake from the day before, thinking that if I didn't have a really REALLY good reason to finish (for Uncle Bruce), I would have very likely scrapped everything at that point and just enjoyed another milkshake while hitchiking back to town. The Yellow Lake climb was very challenging, at this point, it was SO hot out (over 30 degrees) and it felt like the sun was directly over my head and there was no escape from the heat. When I got to the summit of Yellow Lake, I stopped for a minute to dump a bottle of water on my head and compose myself for another death ride down the other side of a mountain... at this point I got a huge wave of dizziness and I definatley saw some spots! I thought for sure my race was over becasue I was sure I was going to pass out and I was sure that they would never let me go on if I did. Luckily, thanks to another great volunteer, I used his lawn chair and recovered for about ten minutes while the dizziness settled. After that point, it was pretty much all down hill, into a giant cloud of smoke and heat (thanks to the forest fires!) and back in to Penticton.

I saw the whole crew again out cheering in front of our hotel. I didn't stop on the bike because I knew I would see them again shortly on the run, but I definately slowed down enough to see them with every sort of noise maker that the dollar store sells. Under Alison's direction, they had songs and dances prepared for me and every other athlete out there. If there were awards out there for cheering - they would definately win!

T2 was equally as fast as T1, I was out and ready to go in only a few minutes, which was good. My legs didn't feel to bad at all, much to my surprise, but within the first few steps I knew what I was going to be facing as the stitches in my side and back were as bad as ever. At this point, my whole stomach felt like it was in a knot, and I knew that any hope of getting calories of any kind into my guts was not going to happen. I ran/walked as planned, but the runs were pretty brutal. Zoe met up with me after the out and back on Lakeshore Drive, and ran with me up Main Street until I reached the Super 8 Motel, and all of the cheering squad. It was nice to have a few minutes with Zoe, she was very encouraging and she let me vent about my stupid stomach issues. I stopped for a minute when I saw everyone, secretly hoping that someone else would want to take over from that point and finish the last 36 km... unfortunately there were no takers. What a shame.

I carried on with my 10 and 1 run/walk plan, but I also chose to walk up the steep hills and walk through the aid stations. I managed this for the entire first half, which was great, better than I was expecting considering at that point the pain was awful. I saw Carolyn just near the turn around point at Okanogan Falls, she was just on her way back the other direction. We stopped and had a good chat for a minute or two, and Bob, Carolyn's husband, who was waiting at that point, kindly let me use his cell phone to call Craig and let him know that I was half way done the run portion, and not passed out on the side of the road. My stomach hurt way to much for me to eat anything (in fact it had been over four hours at this point since I'd had anything but water - which is awful!), so I was pretty disappointed that my kit kat bar went to waste!

After the turn around, I saw Rachelle was only a few minutes behind me, so that was great news, she was doing great! My run, at that point, turned into a shuffle-side-holding-hunchback-of-notre-dame type movement. I kept a decent pace, but it certainly was a sight to watch! I bet it was funny! The last half of the marathon was rough for me because I felt like my insides were going to explode, but then again, being on the way home was very encouraging and at that point, I could count down the mile markers until the finish line!

I saw Zoe again with about 5 km left, she gave me a great pep talk and helped pull me in the rest of the way. At the turn onto Lakeshore Dr for the last 2 km stretch I saw everyone doing their cheering, as well as thousands of spectators. At that point, I was pretty sure that each and every person who lined Lakeshore Dr was out that just to cheer me on that last mile! I felt like a super star and I definately tried to put on my smiling "I'm not in pain and I could do this all again tomorrow" face (it was tough, but I dug deep)! I had to run the last 500m with a bit more speed than I had left in me because I wanted to at least make it in under 15 hours, definately a disappointment for the time, but I can't say I was too upset, just happy to complete it. I crossed the line in 14:59:25, and I was greeted by a volunteer who would stay with me until I was safely out of the athlete's area and dropped off with my family (the volunteers really make the event!!!). I guess there are too many emotions going on to really feel the pain or hunger or anything else, but I felt surprisingly good, I didn't pass out (also a goal for this year!), and I was ready to go find my family fairly quickly after I got my finisher Tshirt and hat (shame, it wasn't pink!).

Rachelle crossed the finish line about 15 minutes after me, so I waited for her and we had a bit of a breather in the grass before we could collect our things and head home. I ate a bag of salt and vinegar chips, which at the time seemed like the most appetizing thing I could ever eat! With not much energy left, we made it home, ordered a pizza, and collapsed into bed. I think everyone was equally as tired and hungry and exhausted...and ready for the day to be done!

I thought I would wake up stiff and sore, but I was sure that my stomach cramps would be gone at that point. I was wrong... I had that same stitch in my back and side, on the right half of my body, and my stomach still felt like it was in a knot! After returning home and still being under attack from this pain I finally went and saw a doctor. It turns out I have shingles on my right side and all that pain that I suffered through is nerve pain that comes with having shingles! What luck!?!? I guess that makes me a super-Ironman because not only did I do the race, but I did it with shingles and in a lot of pain!

As of now... I've definately felt better, but I think I'm on the mend! My side and back still hurts a bit (a lot), kind of like a knife stabbing my lung every time I take a breath (it actually really sucks), but not enough to kill me! Every day I feel better, so I'm sure this will all be behind me sooner than later, as well, I only have a very small rash on my back, I suppose it really could have been much worse.

Comparing my two Ironman races, 2007 and now, I definately had two very different experiences! I can't say one was better than the other, just different. The first one, I found the training stressful, but the race day was so exciting and such an amazing experience because it was my first one. The second Ironman, I found the training to be so much fun and something I enjoyed every minute of, however the actually race day was pretty painful and a bit of a disappointment considering my time could have been so much better. Regardless, I know that Uncle Bruce was there with me in some way or another, and I know that finishing the race was the most important thing for both of us, and I was successful at that. So there you go... I have completed the task at hand, and I think it would be safe to say that Uncle Bruce and I finally got to do an Ironman together, after a very long journery to get there! It was worth every ounce of pain!

I am definately NOT doing another one (next year anyways... just kidding... but not really)! But I can garuntee that I'll be there next year with a volunteer tshirt on (REALLY hoping the volunteers get pink tshirts!) and ready to keep the tradition going!

The Whole Ironman Family (minus Zoe and Arin)

I'm not quite sure I'm ready to retire this blog yet... we'll just have to see...