I know it’s only November, but Teresa has me training like my “A” race is right around the corner (and it kind of is since I’m running the Seattle Half Marathon). I’m a bit nervous about having such a jam-packed 2012 race schedule after coming off a fat and injured 2011 season, but I’m feeling good and the coach seems pretty confident in me, so it’s game on, beeyotches. Behold, my 2012 race season (aka, the last year I get to race in the glorious 25-29 age group before being thrown to the fast and strong 30+ assholes): November 26th: Seattle Half Marathon This will be my first half marathon since the Eugene half in spring 2010, where I PR’d on a relatively flat and fast course. I’ve never done the Seattle half or full marathon despite having lived here for over 10 years. There’s something about the course being difficult and the fact that it’s during a typically shitty time of the year weather-wise that hasn’t struck me as being terribly appealing. However, a ton of teammates are racing the half and a lean and fast Jas is hoping to run a 3:30 or better in the full, so I decided to woman up and race it too. It’s hard to say what I’ll bust out on Sunday–I’ve been running well lately, which is a refreshing change from how slow and painful my runs were for the first half of 2011. I’d like to do 1:45 or better, which would be a PR for me (on a tough course, no less), but as long as I have a solid, strong race, I’ll be pretty happy. March 18, 2012: Rev 3 Costa Rica It’s happening, folks! Jason and I are going to kick off the tri season waaaaaaay too early for my tastes by doing our first half Ironman of the year in freaking March. I bet my first outdoor ride and open water swim will be the week we get there, right before the race. The trip will actually end up being relatively inexpensive since I used miles to book our plane tickets and we’ll be sharing a house rental with two other couples. The pricey part will be hauling our crap and the race registration. One thing I’m not thrilled about is that people complained the swim was way long last year (the top swim time was 10 minutes slower than typical, which means my slow-ass swim time will end up being like a half hour worse than usual if they don’t correct the course for this year’s race) and some swimmers got stung by fucking jellyfish during the race. WHAT. I wasn’t aware of this before booking my trip. Oh God. If I get stung by a jellyfish (and you know I will because I’m the Mediocre Athlete with the worst luck ever), that’s pretty much a race ruiner right there. Oh well, at least I’ll get to hang out in Costa Rica with my friends and boyfriend. May 2012: Mt. Rainier Duathlon Teresa will probably make me do this again. The only conundrum is whether I should try and defend my title one last time in the short course before I have to age up next year or if I should graduate myself to the long course since it’ll be better training for Canada. On one hand, the long course will be a better workout. On the other hand, GHETTO TROPHYYYYYYYYYY. Decisions, decisions. June 2, 2012: Honu 70.3 My second tropical destination race of the year. I fully expect the winds to be atrocious and the heat/humidity to be brutal. A lot of teammates will...

A good teammate pays it forward when her crew comes up to support and cheer for her as she’s dragging her tired legs 140.6 miles, so that’s exactly what I did the last Sunday in August in Penticton for my TN peeps. My Becca Sense had been tingling all summer thinking that the Ironman Canada athletes would have a hot race day since I got lucky last year with the weather (minus the pockets of rain and wind on the bike), and I was right. Of the five days I was up in Canada, the “coldest” day was in the mid-80s and race day crept up to the mid-90s. I tried to do some workouts while I was up there, so I flailed around in the lake for about 15-20 minutes and called it a swim, and I ran with Teresa a couple days. (And by “with” I mean “behind,” as even in her weakened state she’s still faster than me. Sigh.) One day we ran along an old railroad track that’s been converted into a trail, and although it was hot, the run was pretty nice. At one point we ran by a cottage on the trail that was advertising the following: I would have sold my soul for a slushie at this point on the run, but we didn’t have any money so I had to soldier on with my stupid unflavored water like a chump. The next day we did another shorter run along the run course, and it was so freaking hot that I was running slower than usual at a higher heart rate. I started whining to myself about how hot and shitty it was before remembering that I was running slower than this pace last year and had traveled 135 miles further, and that my teammates would have to run an entire marathon in this heat tomorrow so shut up and finish your stupid little run. Sometimes you’re not allowed to complain no matter how crummy you feel, because you know that other folks will have it worse and that you yourself have been in worse situations. The morning of the race eventually rolled around and I sprang out of bed, giddy with excitement and adrenaline (Jason said I was over-stimulated). I had volunteered to be a sherpa for two of my teammates and friends who were racing with no family support, so I wanted to make sure they were taken care of before and after the race. We packed up our racers and Jason and I cranked “Welcome to the Jungle” for them because it’s the song that played last year for us when we were driving to the race start. Naturally, the day was long and hot and the race was tough. Although bike splits were faster than last year, runs were obviously slower due to the heat. Our team did the best they could under the conditions. One had to drop out due to injury, one dropped out because of a bike malfunction, one got pulled with heat stroke, and one missed the bike cutoff. They all battled hard and gave it an admirable effort, and the athletes who did finish did great, too. Instead of a full recap, I thought I’d give out some “awards” via photos that my teammates and I snapped throughout the day. Enjoy! The “Bad-Ass with Braids” Award goes to Kylee. She battled the barfies all day (from the swim to the bike to throughout the run) and still managed to become an Ironman. I remember how awful I felt for five miles during the Rev 3 run and can’t imagine throwing up for 15...

Sorry for the slight delay in getting this to you, but for some odd reason flashing my finisher’s medal doesn’t get me out of doing my day job or paying my bills. An Ironman employee should really look into fixing that — completing the race should earn you “I Don’t Have to Do Jack Shit” status for a month (or at least a couple of weeks).

Around this time last year, I had driven up to Penticton, slept in a teenage girl’s room, rooted on my teammates, and got sucked into the excitement and craziness that is Ironman Canada. I had zero intention of signing up with Jason, but watching the spectacle and the support of the entire town and seeing wave after wave of various athletes (elite, beginner, big, small, old, young) finish motivated me to chase after that feeling and experience it on my own. And so I plunked down six hundred big ones and spent a year training for a full Ironman. Now, one year later, the race has finally snuck up on me. Damnit.