Of Eggplants and Walruses
Thursday, September 06, 2007

Below is an email from a friend who has been one of my greatest cheerleaders through this whole thing. So sweet and so damn funny all at the same time, it was just too good to be read only by my eyes, and contains some great sentiments for others toeing the line on Sunday. So read, and enjoy.

I was reading your blog post with that Beatles song "I am the walrus"going through my head; not sure why—I haven't heard that song in years. But that probably has something to do with the following thought that popped into my head while reading the section where you describe your doubts, experienced at past iron mans, about whether you could ever do one: "Erin must have thought she was the walrus."

So…that's a weird thought. You are nothing like a walrus. Walruses have no arms, for example. You have two. Your teeth are less obtrusive. But I think it is safe to say that walruses are ill equipped to complete triathlons. Yes, let's concede that they could do the swim (unless distracted by some yummy sea cucumber passing by below). But the bike would present challenges (no feet). So would the run (same problem).

That ain't you. It's funny to think of you doubting that you could do the Ironman. Not because the Ironman isn't a huge challenge. It's just that I can't imagine that anyone who knows you ever doubted that you could do it. Ridiculous! You're a pocket rocket! Sleek and sparky. Filled with rocket fuel!

Nah, no one had any doubt. And does it need to be said that what you have done already is an extraordinary accomplishment, that the days of training and suffering are the accomplishment, and that now you should be basking in the giddy glow of doing something a step past reasonable limits? I hope you can carry that giddy glow around with you, somewhere in your weary deep down, this weekend. That should be energy, hard earned, that doesn't go away.

Of course, in the end, races are stupid. Not the participating in them—the results. One does or doesn't do well, a lot of time, for stupid reasons. But in your training you've displayed grit, guts, and, maybe most of all, grace. That's victory, at least to my mind. Easy for me to say, I suppose. I'm more eggplant than athlete these days. But it's true.

So, I guess what I am saying is: I am the eggplant. You aren't the walrus. Goo goo ca choo. Go Erin! You've already won.

With supporters like this in my corner, I have indeed. Thanks...to all of you.

Posted by Erin 1:24 PM 2 comments

Housekeeping
Wednesday, September 05, 2007

There are certain things I hate doing around the house. Cleaning out the dishwasher, vacuuming, and putting a garbage bag back into the trash can after emptying it are among those things. Color-coding my closets, cleaning out the refrigerator, organizing my cabinets, or alphabetizing my CDs are not among them.

So, in an effort to channel all of my energy these last few days, I've decided to do what I do best: get as organized as possible.

This means that, among other things, you'll find below: 1) an itinerary for Friday - Sunday, and 2) a list of what is going in each of my transition and special needs bag (as I'm sure people are waiting on the edges of their seats for that one...but really, if you spot something missing that should be in there, please tell me), and 3) how anyone not in Madison can check in periodically and see how I'm doing throughout the day.

For those of you coming to Mad-town (or those who live here but are also coming out) to see this spectacle first-hand, first of all, I want to say thank you -- from the bottom of my heart and feet and everything else. You have no idea how much it will help to see friendly faces out there...and how much it means to me. I can't wait to share it with you.

And if you're so inclined, stop by Ironman Village and type in some inspirational/motivational/encouraging words at the message kiosk. If all goes well, those messages will flash up on a screen for me to read when I pass over a chip mat. I'm guessing that by that point in the day, I'll need all the inspiration I can get.

Ok, now on to the obsessive list-making, if for no one else but me.

Friday

2 p.m. -- massage

5 p.m. -- swim, 20 minutes

6 p.m. -- pasta dinner

7:30 p.m. -- athlete meeting, Monona Terrace

Saturday

8:30 a.m. -- brunch, Marigold?

10 a.m. -- bike and gear check-in

10:30 a.m. (ish) -- walk around IM Village/Farmer's market

Afternoon -- dog park, then off feet (nap or movie, or both)

7 p.m. -- dinner at the Vigues!

Sunday

4:30 a.m. -- breakfast

5:00 a.m. -- body marking and transition opens

5:30 a.m. -- coffee and visualization (bring Ipod)

6:30 a.m. -- transition closes. Hand off Ipod to (someone?) on the way down to the water.

7:00 a.m. -- race starts!

7 a.m. - 10 (god-willing not longer) p.m. -- race, race, race. Then race some more.

10-ish p.m. -- meet team at walkway in front of Monona Terrace under giant Gatorade bottle, then EAT.

Water

Aerobottle with Gatorade

5 packages of Clif Blocks

3 Clif Bars

Nuun container w/Endurolytes

Baggie with Advil

2 spare tubes

Air pump

Co2s

Spare tire

Bike number

Nutrition plan postcard

$$$ for Starbucks

Bike shorts

Sports bra

Black Under Armour pants

Black Patagonia fleece

Ipod

Body Glide

Wetsuit

IM Swim cap

Goggles

T1

Bike shoes (carry out of T1)

Pink Zoot sleeveless jersey

Gloves

Helmet

Duffel bag

*Black Nike zip-up

*Rain jacket

Bike Special Needs:

Combos

Peanut butter sandwich, toasted

Extra Clif Blocks

Extra Clif Bars

Endurolytes

Face wipes

Tubes and Co2 canisters, taped together

*Red Nike wind jacket

*Garbage bag or rain poncho

*In case of inclement weather

Post-Ironman (in Dick Pond bag to give to cheerers)

Teva Flip-flops

Fleece running pants

Sports bra

Long-sleeved t-shirt

Black zip-up fleece

CHECKING IN FROM AFAR

You can go here to look up my progress in real time by searching on my bib number (which is 102) after linking to "Track an Athlete." And if you're awake and interested, I'm hoping to be crossing the finish line sometime between 10:00 and 11:59, which you can catch LIVE here.

Posted by Erin 1:11 PM 5 comments

The Start of It All
Tuesday, September 04, 2007

I remember this time last year. When I was still mulling things over. When I would take extra-long lunches to wander MLK Drive, meandering through Ironman Village, watching athletes with impossible physiques ready themselves for this one day. This one race.

I would get a coffee and sit on a bench on the square, steeping in the electricity of Ironman, the air thick with it. I would pick out a muscled-yet-sinewy athlete and think, "I could never look like that," and then see another, more common-looking person and think, "If that person could do this..." I would turn over and over again the prospect of taking on something so gigantic. I would feel confident one minute, and the next, wonder if I'd fall flat on my face -- both figuratively and literally -- attempting an Ironman.

After all, I didn't have a bike. I didn't know how to change a tire. I hadn't swum competitively since I was ten years old. I hadn't done a triathlon since high school. I didn't know what riding 50 miles felt like, much less twice that. I had no business even thinking about taking on Ironman.

What I did know, though, was that if it came down to guts and determination, then I could do this. What I did have was the tenacity to see it through.

Because, I knew a thing or two about overcoming adversity. In high school I had blown out each of my knees in consecutive years and undergone reconstructive surgery on both, and afterwards, weathered 18 months of nearly consecutive, grueling physical therapy without missing one season of track or ski racing. My senior year, I even qualified for the Junior Olympics. Fast forward to the Mad City Marathon last year -- a race I didn't even know I'd be able to run, given the history my knees and I have. That day, the mercury reached 97 degrees (after not eeking out a reading above 70's in the months before), the pace leader I was running with passed out, the asphalt on the beltline buckled, and race officials closed the course down nearly two hours early because medical demands were more than they could keep up with. It was a hell of a day to run a first marathon, but I finished.

And now, fast-forward to today.

I find myself at Starbucks on MLK Drive (where I find myself most days at some point or another). I am waiting to begin my very last Ironman-focused coaching session during which we'll go over my race plan -- from clothing choices to swim position. I am four-and-one-half days from stepping up to the starting line of my first, and perhaps last, Ironman. I look up and see this, and tears spring hot in my eyes:

I don't think I've cried this much since I was a 13-years-old. I'm not normally a crier. But Ironman does something to you. This experience takes turns taunting and testing you. Then, in the darkest, toughest moments, it rewards you with a sunrise, a loved one's words of support or encouragement, a struggle survived, a lesson learned. It makes you a raw bundle of emotions -- fear, anticipation, dread, pride, gratitude, joy, and so many others. It breaks you and remakes you a hundred times over.

It's starting now. The lightpost banners have gone up. Grey and yellow garbage cans sit at the ready on corners around Capitol square. The Inn on the Park has changed its sign to welcome the trickle of Ironman athletes that will, as the days progress, become a flood.

Reading that little sign this afternoon made goosebumps rise along my arms. Because this year, I'm part of it. I will be one of those people I have watched for years -- out there, giving everything I have, pushing myself to limits I never before dreamt possible.

During our meeting, I told my coach that I finally feel ready. I told her two months or so ago that if need be, I could do the race the following day. Physically, I had put the time in. But mentally, I was a mess. I was uncertain. I was anxious. I was afraid. Afraid of not being able to control my nerves in those pre-dawn hours leading up to the swim. Afraid of 2.4 miles in the water. Afraid of missing a cutoff. Afraid that I didn't have what it might take to gut it out on race day.

Two months ago, I hadn't done a double-brick. I hadn't left myself and everything I had on the 126 miles of road of the Dairyland Dare. I hadn't turned around and raced and Oly the next morning. I hadn't swum a punishing 2.4 miles in Lake Monona, and then turned around and done it again, and yet again, in Iron Mountain's Lake Antione.

Each of those events sounds, even as I write them, insipid and bland. They involved a distance to cover, and I covered it. But to me, they represent so much more. They represent moments of despair and difficulty, and physical discomfort and pain -- greater than I ever might have imagined. Moments that required more tenacity and fortitude to get through than I ever thought I had. They represents moments where I learned something about myself on the most basic, primal level...and moments that elevated me to a higher plane. They represent deep valleys, not high peaks, and the hard-fought growth that comes from feeling as low as you've ever felt -- physically, mentally, and emotionally -- and embracing the lowness until you're able to crawl through to the other side.

And they represent the amazing kindness of people. The man who pulled up next to me to chat for a while at mile 100-something on my third Verona loop (in one weekend) when I was hot and tired and tired of being out there alone (and going much, much slower than he was). The cards (and words) of encouragement from my friends and family that seem to have arrived in a steady stream throughout the year. The cheers of complete strangers while racing alone. The incredible outpouring of support from other bloggers and blog-watchers, some who have come to feel like friends, whether I've met them in person or not.

Today, I'm not only ready, I am excited. All of the hard work is done. As they say, "Nothing left to do but the doing." I know there will be tough moments throughout the day. I know there will be some dark places. But the only way out is through. And the difference on the 9th is that so many of my favorite people will be there with me to cheer me through the valleys, and high-five me at the peaks. Finally, I will get to share this thing with all of them. And I will get to share the day, the experience, with all of those other athletes whose stories I've followed and been inspired by and whom I've gotten to know over the past year, either vicariously though the blogosphere or in person.

On its face, the Ironman is simply a 2.4-mile swim, a 112-mile bike, and a 26.2-mile run. But each of us on Sunday's starting line has taken a dizzying array of routes to take this one, final road together, and we know better.

Posted by Erin 11:30 AM 16 comments

This Thing Called Ironman
Friday, August 31, 2007

Posted by Erin 9:29 AM 3 comments

Race Numbers Are Up!
Thursday, August 30, 2007

BIB NUMBER		FIRST NAME	AGE	SEX		DIVISION	CITY	ST/PROV
102		ERIN	31	F		W30-34	MADISON	WI

I'm taking a quick break from vacation to announce that race numbers have been assigned (thanks for the heads-up, Xt4!). That means that the actual race is right around the corner. Wahoo!

My dad keeps asking me (over and over again) if I'm nervous (mostly, it seems, because he is nervous for me). And I keep saying no. Because I'm not. I'm excited, plain and simple. All of the hard work is done, and that -- the hours that I've put in -- is the only thing under my control at this point.

So, watch for #102 on September 9th. More details to follow on how to track my progress that day. For now, I'm off to eat Thai food and drink a glass of wine by the pool.

Posted by Erin 3:38 PM 1 comments

Plus One
Monday, August 27, 2007

This weekend, thanks to some creative scheduling (or rescheduling) of workouts, Chief of Stuff and I made a round-trip-plus-some journey to Kansas City to pick up the newest member of the clan, Newton Clarence.

The trip itself was uneventful: eight-some hours to KC, a quick stop off at the house of the Missouri Vizsla rescue coordinator's house (who, in a bit of Vizsla trivia, turned out to be the daughter of the first Vizsla owner/breeder in the U.S., Frank Tallman), and then a few hours northeast to Iowa City. We finished the trip on Sunday, stopping in Madison only to pick up our bikes, and then continuing on to Iron Mountain so Newt could meet his new fur-brother, Leonard, and fur-cousin, Nolan.

Thankfully, the two have hit it off, and Newt is adjusting well. He's such a sweet little guy, and looooves to play fetch (which his new grandpa is completely impressed by, given Leonard's complete and total ineptitude for the game). So far, we've discovered that, while Newt's a pro at fetch, he doesn't understand keep-away -- Leonard's game of choice -- one iota. Perhaps they'll come to an understanding eventually...

Today, my mom and her friend took Leonard and Newt for a five-mile walk around Lake Antione and reported that Newt did splendidly.

Meanwhile, I fought my way through serious chop for two miles, and followed that by a miserable 10-mile run. I didn't pay close enough attention to my nutrition during the day, I think, and a breakfast of scrambled eggs, three tiny pieces of minimalist pizza, and a mojo bar does not a three-hour workout make. Needless to say I got it done, but it wasn't pretty.

I dropped off my bike this morning at the local shop and it was all rarin' and ready to go by tonight, so I have one more semi-tough workout to make up tomorrow, and then it's on the home stretch to Ironman, complete with a week's vacation with nothing much at all planned other than some working out and relaxing (and maybe some poolside evening-out of the weird tan lines I've developed this summer) in Michigan's Upper Peninsula.

After that, the hardest thing that remains is figuring out what to do with the two (or three, if Nolan comes) dogs during Ironman day...

Here are some pics from Newt and Leonard's first day together (#1: Leonard and Newt, #2:distinguished Newt, #3: perplexed Newt, #4: my mom and Newt...and if somebody -- anybody -- can tell me an easy way to format pics on blogger, I'll be forever indebted. Dear god, I've just spent half and hour trying to just get them all to line up in a row, and don't even get me started on how I tried in vain to get captions next to each.)

Posted by Erin 6:49 PM 10 comments

In Case This PR Thing Doesn't Work Out
Friday, August 24, 2007

Reading September's Outside magazine last night, I came across the article "Swim. Bike. Run. Shoot. Kill." in which the author writes about how the Navy SEALS are targeting ultra-distance athletes like Ironmen in their recruiting these days, and in doing so, have upped their graduation rates.

The reason? Endurance athletes, specifically triathletes, are equally comfortable on land as in water, and moreover, have a much higher tolerance for pain and discomfort than the average non-Ironman SEAL candidate.

Alas, despite what G.I. Jane led us to believe, the SEALS still don't take women into their ranks.

I can't provide a link to the article, as Outside doesn't post theirs electronically, but if you can get your hands on a copy, it's an interesting, engaging read.

Posted by Erin 9:07 AM 0 comments