Good heavens! Here it is June 28. I've been training since December. We started way back then with a weight-training program, and progressed onto an Ironman Canada training schedule. I also started attending weekly CycleU classes on Saturday mornings that were 1:45 long. They use Computrainers, so you get to see how much wattage you are putting out. By the end of the class sessions, my wattage was much higher. I was confused by this until we started biking out on the road. Once we got out on the road, it became apparent that the reason my wattage numbers were so high was because I had gotten much stronger on the bike! Whoo hoo! I had some swim setbacks - shoulder and elbow issues. Once those worked themselves out, I took a swim clinic with other members of my triathlon team. We also trained heavily for a four-day mountain pass ride, which we completed in early June. Wow, was that just three weeks ago? We followed that by doing a half ironman race TWO weeks ago, in Boise. All in all, I'd say my cycling fitness has improved dramatically, so long as I remember to refuel properly. My swimming form is much better, as evidenced by the fact that I can often swim in a straight line in open water now. Hard to tell if I am much faster, but I may be. My running is the biggest mystery to me right now. We haven't really focused on it, and I lost my Garmin Forerunner some time ago, so I really don't know how fast I'm running these days.

A Triathlon, a Tornado, and a Swim Lesson

Sara here - I completed the Bonney Lake Olympic Tri last Saturday. It was POURing when we woke up that morning. Pitch black out and pouring down rain. We had to drive to Puyallup, which took around an hour. We were really hoping someone would call and cancel, and give us an excuse to back out, too, but you know - we had already paid and all.

Once we were in the transition area setting up, we started to see people we knew - friend Stephen was there, teammate Lauren was there. Then Karoline and Bill showed up (they were the other two on Karen's relay team). We spotted Dave from our team. Finally, while we were standing in the water waiting for the race to begin, we spotted our running buddy, Kathy, and exchanged quick "good race"s, then boom! we were off.

The water felt fine, and I was right in with the pack for a while there. Then, inevitably, I fell further and further behind. It's always this way, but I just focused on swimming. We went two laps, and, miraculously, I didn't ever think about quitting or panicking. As I sited the finishing chute, I could see everyone standing under umbrellas. Huh, guess it'sl raining. I came in at my usual 40 minutes for the .92 miles, and then had to cover a LOT of ground to get back to transition. I had a quick T1 and was off on the bike.

I hadn't been on the bike in many weeks, and it felt very difficult. And I couldn't get my Cat Eye to turn on. I spent a good amount of time wrestling with it, and even contemplated giving up on the whole race - how can I ride my bike when I don't know how fast I'm going or how far I have to go???? Wahhhh! I was leapfrogging with a 58-year-old woman on the bike who couldn't get her Cat Eye to work either. She'd catch me and pass me, then settle into a speed that was just a little too slow - I'd either be drafting, or have to pass her. The rain pelted us on and off the whole way, sometimes in a huge downpour, sometimes in a mist. It felt like pebbles hitting my face. I came in just slightly ahead of my 58-year-old into T2, then got stuck behind one of those guys who was just strolling with his bike, checking his look in the mirror, chatting with his wife, his friends, his inlaws, doing the old "call me" gesture. "Hey, buddy, I'm trying to not come in last in my age-group here . . ." I finally got around him once he left the fenced-off chute. Had a quick T2 and hit the run, asking Bill (who was cheering and lounging at this point since his relay swim split was finished in record time) "Which way to the run? Which way to the run?" Bill helpfully pointed the way.

If my bike split was blah, my run split was even blaher - hills, hills, hills. To make matters worse, at one point in the run, someone in the neighborhood had pulled down one of the arrow signs. Runner after runner came to this point in the race and was baffled about which way to go (we all commiserated after the race). I probably wasted around a minute before another runner caught up to me and asked one of the neighbors "Where did the runners go?" and the neighbor (perhaps he was the self-same person who pulled down the sign?!) pointed.

I finished with a smile as you can see in the photo, DESPITE getting lost. And, ahem, did I mention the hills?

Glad we all went - Karen's relay team came in first for relay teams, I came in third in my age group, and ALL of our friends placed in their groups, too! We were an eight person cheering squad out there, and kept going up to collect all of our medals. Whoo hoo! Oh, and BTW - turns out there was a tornado the following day in Bonney Lake. A TORNADO. Now who's macho, racing in weather that produced a tornado and all?

On Thursday I had my first one-on-one swim coaching session with Teresa Nelson. She quickly pointed out one simple thing after another that I needed to tighten up, beginning with my kicking. At last, someone who will give me pointers on my kicking - don't think I've ever had any! (Wait, I take that back. Years ago Teresa told us in a swim clinic that we had to kick a little - she said, "I know you guys want to save your legs for the bike, but come on! You have to kick a little!" On Thursday, she took me from kicking from the knee with my legs all over the place (picture an injured frog) to kicking from the hip with thighs close together (picture a dolphin), heels breaking the surface of the water. She also stopped me from dropping my right arm straight down after breathing, and from dropping my head under the water at the same time I'm dropping my right arm. Oh, and she told me to stop arching my back, and to rotate quickly, from right to left to right to left and so on. Voila!

Faster swim times, here I come!

Hi, I'm Laura

Laura, here. Still numb about the whole Ironman thing, so I'm distracting myself by trying to figure out blogging.

Nearly Naked Athena!

Sara here - I just found this pic on the Athena Diaries blog. Don't you love it? No, it is NOT ME, but a lovely, plus-sized model.

Well, it's semi-official. We now have a coach, I think. I'm working out a swim lesson schedule with her now. Won't it be incredible if my swimming actually (gulp) improves? Swimming has thus far remained a weird mystery to me. My form has improved, and yet I don't seem much faster. I wonder how she will improve my speed. Run alongside the pool yelling at me? Striking me? Zapping me with electrodes? It will be interesting to find out. I also checked out the price for InCycle classes (which I guess are similar to computrainer classes in that they kick your butt and improve your cycling, while making you sweat copiously and wish to purchase a gun and go postal on everyone in the room. I'm just saying.) So anyway, they're expensive. I want to do it. But they're pricey. Add in the swim classes and the yearly coaching fee for Ironman Canada, and you begin to get the picture.

Tomorrow I'll be skipping Weight Watchers to do the Bonney Lake Olympic tri. Haven't been on my bike for a number of weeks, but I'm looking forward to a great aerobic workout!

Wanted to mention two fantastic website I learned about today: Bookmooch, and this one.

Sara

Just 361 days of training left . . .

Sara here - Karen, Laura and I signed up for Ironman Canada 2010 on the last day of August, 2009. As we waited in the (three hour) registration line in Penticton, B.C., we met Nicole, the only one of us who resides in B.C. We decided the four of us could keep in touch for the next 364 days by way of a blog, and would track our lives and training up until we swam/biked/ran the race.

Since returning to Seattle, we've started lining up coaching for ourselves. I'm worried that there won't be enough hours in the day to train and to have a life. But I'm hopeful . . . Sara