I did Ironman Canada again, crashed at mile 30, and managed to mostly keep it together to finish. I was hurting pretty bad during the race but went through a Rollercoaster of Ouch afterwards–some days I’d feel fine, other days I’d be in a lot of pain again. The day after the race I was stiff but not feeling too terrible until I got home that night and realized I had shoved my sore and bruised body into a car for five hours. And then Tuesday rolled around. I’ve often told people that when you do an endurance race, you hit “max soreness.” I’ve felt about as sore after a marathon as I have after a full Ironman, so I figure that my body had hit maximum soreness. It’s uncomfortable but manageable, so after this most recent Ironman, I anticipated hitting “max soreness” like I always have and being able to deal with it fine. Unfortunately, I was wrong. “Max soreness” isn’t when you finish a marathon or an Ironman, it’s when you finish an Ironman race where you also happened to eat pavement. I was hurting bad on Tuesday. Not only did I have the standard post-race soreness, I was still in a considerable amount of pain from the accident. Just walking from my car to the office left me panting and wincing while holding my ribs. I was mostly useless at work and resorted to pained weight shifts and whimpers during our company meeting while the CMO looked at me like I was a dog that needed to get put down. On Wednesday I felt better, but my ribs and the left side of my head would continue to ache on and off for the next month or so. A couple weeks after the race, I showed up to the team track workout to do an easy 30 minute run but had to bail after about 20 when my head started throbbing like crazy. When Jason passed me on the track and asked how I was feeling, I pouted and responded with “My concussion hurts!” like a four-year old. But the human body is a resilient beast and eventually I healed up. Here’s a little photo journey of the nastiness: Naturally, since I wiped out at mile 32.4 of a 140.6 mile race and continued on for several hours before I tended to my wounds, my scrapes quickly evolved into “Nasty Mode” and got angry and red before switching over to liquid-y and disgusting: My most shameful moment was when I was at work talking to my boss, and his eyes flickered over to my left shoulder. I followed suit and glance down, realizing that my shoulder grossness had seeped through my shirt. He looked thoroughly disgusted as I apologized profusely for looking like the thing that emerged from the barrel in Return of the Living Dead. When it finally dried out, my left shoulder started to resemble one of those geode rock thingies you play with in third grade: The scabs are gone now, thankfully. My right hand scars are angry and purplish. The left knee is fading pretty decently, but the left shoulder is a ridiculously hue of “new skin” pink. (My gobstopper tan lines aren’t helping with the contrast.) I’ve been slathering it with lotion as well as sunscreen whenever it’s exposed to sunshine, so hopefully it’ll fade to a less horrific shade soon. Annoyingly enough, everyone who sees it (including a couple of nurses at my allergy clinic) thinks it’s a sunburn that I managed to get only in one concentrated area on my left shoulder, as if I were some sort of long-haul trucker...

Welcome back, reader! It’s been a while, I know. I took a little hiatus after Ironman Canada to laze around and get fat, so now that I am sufficiently rested and newly-pudgy, it’s time for me to get back into the swing of things, and what better way to move forward than to recap a race I did a month and a half ago, right? If you’re all, “Pffft, this was forever ago, gimme some new material already!”, don’t worry, I’ve got some more timely stuff in the pipeline. But for the 12 of you who have been bugging me to bust out this bad boy, enjoy my ridiculously belated Ironman Canada 2012 race report (oh, and here’s 2010’s race report, aka The Longest Race Report in the History of Race Reports, if you care to revisit that one). Pre-Race Shenanigans Jas and I left for Penticton the Wednesday before the race, stopping a couple (meaning hundreds) of times so I could pee and pick up some healthy, pre-race organic, gluten-free, paleo-friendly nourishment… …just kidding, I had a gas station corn dog, a BBQ pulled pork sandwich, and about five pounds of potato chips. Every time I sign up for these endurance races, I fill out all of the information so far in advance that I’ve forgotten what I’ve written until I have to review the forms before the event. This means that Present Me will usually be simultaneously amused and embarrassed by Past Me’s responses. Case in point: when I went to pick up all of my important race crap, I saw this: The elderly volunteer who was going over my information with me did a double-take and laughed pretty hard, saying, “I haven’t seen that one before!” I took that as a sign to keep putting bullshit in my forms for future events. Thanks, lady! With registration taken care of, I taper tantrum-ed my way through my final pre-race workouts (“Eeeeekkk, my foot is hurting during this bike ride! I knew I should have brought my old nasty cycling shoes instead of the new pair!”; “Holy shit, this water is so rough! Why is it so rough?! It’s going to be even worse on race day, I know it!!”), had my pre-race meeting with Coach T, and lounged around until race day. I was a little nervous but mostly anxious to get back on the course again and see what an additional two years of fitness would do for my finish time. Race Morning I sprang out of bed before my alarm went off, hopped up on nervous energy while Jason sleepily mumbled something and rolled over to catch some more zzz’s. After I showered and scarfed down breakfast and my token cup of race coffee (I only drink coffee the morning of a race, so thus far in 2012 I have had a whopping five cups of sludge), we all headed to transition so I could do my thang. After the standard pre-race whatnots, I found several of my teammates who were also racing and hung out with them as the clock ticked down to 7 am. The mood was light and I was having a great time laughing and joking with everyone while other athletes moped around looking worrisome and miserable. The #1 reason I love being a part of TN Multisports: because my pre-race demeanor is this: Apparently my pre-Ironman ritual now consists of peeing myself in transition before the race starts. Thankfully, my teammates were more amused than grossed out. (And the flower bed got a nice watering!) I have no idea what Tom and I are laughing about here–probably my lack of shame after...

Ironman races are a funny thing. I signed up last year, slimmed down, got healthy, (mostly) stopped eating like a complete moron, did four races with mixed results (one win, one DFL), juggled training amid the stresses of starting a new job. And now here I am, on the eve of showing up at the start line to Ironman Canada for the second time. But despite the fact that I feel as prepared as I’ll ever be, it still feels like I’m racing for the first time. Feels like the very first time! I told Teresa exactly that when we sat down for my pre-race athlete meeting, and she laughed and asked why I’d feel that way. Racing an Ironman has an entirely different feel to it. I’ve done three half Ironman races this year, eight since I started doing triathlons in 2008. I’m healthy enough to bust one out a month during the peak of triathlon season. Yet there are only a handful of Ironman races a year, and a mere mortal like myself typically only tackles one per season (or, in my case, one every other season). So although I’ve done this exact same race in this exact same location on close to the exact same date two years ago, it kind of feels like my first Ironman all over again (even though technically it’ll be my last Ironman Canada since next year the series gets changed to Challenge Penticton under new organizers). Sure, I sort of know what to expect this time around, and I figure that I should be faster than I was back in 2010, but it’s a long enough day and enough time has passed since I was at the start line that I’m going to have to rediscover the feeling of racing Ironman all over again. In some ways that’s a little nerve-wracking, but in other ways it’s kind of exhilarating, like being able to recapture the magic and excitement of a first kiss or rediscovering the joy of Saturday morning cartoons and a big bowl of sugary cereal when you were a kid. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a bit nervous, especially as the list of friends who are planning to spectate or track me continues to grow. A prime example: Steven “Good Steve” Hooper, after our last training ride together, in a cheery, optimistic voice: “Good luck at Ironman Canada! Wish I could come up to spectate, but I’ll be tracking you on race day!” What I heard: Steven “Don’t Let Me Down Or Our Friendship is Over” Hooper, in a menacing voice: “I’ll be tracking you on race day.” And when I met with Teresa to talk about my race, she talked about getting in and out of transition as quickly as possible, pushing the descents, pushing my pace when I turn around on the run, and generally treating the day more like a “race” than last time, when my goal was more to “finish.” I of course interpreted her advice as Asian Mom levels of expectations and promptly peed myself a little bit. But ultimately, despite my personal goals or the expectations of others, I know that everyone will be cheering for me no matter how I do. So tomorrow I’m planning to have fun, stay strong, and be thankful that I’m healthy and privileged enough to make something that is the dream of so many people a reality. A few mantras to keep in mind on race day: (My body tells me no / But I won’t quit / ‘Cuz I want more) (It’s gonna be alright / We don’t even have to try / It’s always...

So I survived Day 1 of the Ironman Canada training camp despite getting blinded and nearly being taken out by a car on the highway. I was still nursing raw eyes when I woke up for Day 2, but I was happy that I wouldn’t have to ride another 112 in the crappy heat. Unfortunately, I’d succumb to the heat in other ways, although my downfall was more due to my poor breakfast choice than the heat alone. (Still, I have to blame something other than my own dumb self, right?) With that said, let’s kick off Day 2 of my 2012 Ironman Canada Training Camp recap. Day 2: Eggs Benny is Not My Buddy My excitement for not having to swim on Day 1 was short-lived, as Day 2 started off with a 30 minute dip in Okanagan Lake. The swim wasn’t too bad, though–the water temperature was nice and I bullied a less-than-thrilled Steve to swim with me despite the fact that he’s not even training for anything (“I just like camps!”–Steven Hooper, 2012). After our dip in the lake, we had to change quickly and hop on our bikes for a 30-ish mile easy effort ride. I headed out with my peeps and immediately discovered that my ladybits wanted nothing to do with the aero position whatsoever. The crotchal region was pissed at me for yesterday’s century-plus sufferfest, so I resorted to sitting upright and catching wind like a human sail for the entire ride. My teammates left me in the dust but I was content to stay comfortable since I didn’t want a horrible sequel to Crotchfest 2012, plus I was trying to leave enough gas in the tank for my long run later that day (insert ominous foreshadowing here). When I got back to the parking lot, I was told by Teresa to rest a bit and eat a good meal before the team was going to start their run workout. She wanted us all to wait until the afternoon to begin running so we could hit the course at the hottest part of the day. Since we had a decent amount of downtime, we could eat a legitimate lunch. Teresa, however, being all Cautious Coach, gave us some guidelines for eating. T: “Eat something light and easy on your stomach before your long run. It’s going to be hot and you don’t want to aggravate your system.” My interpretation of what she said: After a full day of workouts Friday and two hours of workouts already under my belt on Saturday, my body was in a perpetual state of feeling ravenous. Jason and I wandered around trying to find a place to eat and ended up at the resort hotel/casino restaurant overlooking the lake. Waitress: “What can I get you?” Me: “Can I get the potato hash?” Must eat smart! Long, hot run ahead! Waitress: “Sure thing.” *scribbles it down* Jason: “I’ll have a blueberry smoothie and eggs Benedict.” Me: “Ooh, that sounds good.” The waitress left but returned after a few minutes. Waitress: “I’m sorry, we’re out of the potato hash. Can I get you something else instead?” Me: “Screw it, I tried. EGGS BENEDICT, PLEASE!” My meal consisted of eggs Benedict (ham, poached eggs, English muffins, and Hollandaise sauce which is made from craploads of butter, lemon, and egg yolks), breakfast potato wedges, ketchup, generous sips of Jason’s dairy-rich blueberry smoothie, and chunks of buttery croissant that we got as a side order. The stomach felt great since it was all full and happy. By the time we got done eating, we pretty much had to return back to the hotel...

The last weekend of July was my team’s Ironman Canada training camp. It had been a couple years since I had ridden the course (the last time I trained on it was when I raced the event in 2010), so I was really anxious to dust off the ol’ cobwebs and re-familiarize myself with the area and see how much my fitness had improved in the past two years. I was also excited to hang out with my teammates–even though we were going to be working our asses off all weekend long, it’s still fun to spend time with your friends and enjoy each other’s company away from the stresses of the real world. The camp consisted of three days, which I’ve broken into separate posts. Here’s a recap of Day 1: Day 1: What Doesn’t Kill You Just Half-Blinds You Canada camp was scheduled a bit differently than Coeur d’Alene’s training camp. At Coeur d’Alene we swam, then rode the course, then did a brick run (and the day bested me because I was battling a fever and a cold and chumped out after 80 miles on the bike). At Canada, however, we’d start the day off by tackling the bike course, then doing a 20-30 minute brick run. No swimming? Boo-yah! I took off with my cycling group from our hotel. It was going to be warm (mid to upper-80s) but not as hot as the ridiculous training camp back in 2010 (when temps hit 97 degrees). I was supposed to stay in zone 2 for my ride but my stupid Garmin didn’t charge overnight so I had to ride “naked,” so to speak, and went without heart rate information. It was actually kind of nice riding based on exertion/feel for a change, but I was mildly disheartened when the guys all took off as if they stole something and left me, Aimee, and Leslee behind. It was hard to tell whether I was going out too easy or they were going out too hard, or if they were just riding comfortably while I was sucking it up. Not helping matters was hitting Richter about 2 hours, 3 minutes into my ride, which was a few minutes slower than my training time two years ago. Cue the “Oh God, am I actually slower than I was in 2010?! My bike split is going to be shit this year! Why did I sign up for this race, I’m no good, I’m not getting faster, what the hell is the matter with me, I’m not going to break 12 hours this year, not by a long shot, screw this sport, I’mma retire and get fat instead.” I pushed the doubt out of my head and instructed myself to just ride. Don’t worry about the watch or how fast your teammates are going, just focus on what you need to do out there. So that’s what I did–I powered up Richter at a good clip (hooray for improved climbing skills this year!), busted through the “rollers” (aka the “Little Bitches,” as Slowtwitch so appropriately named them), and made it to the TN support car at the end of the out and back turnaround. And wouldn’t you know it, my lovely ladies Leslee and Aimee were right there with me as the first three in our group to make it to the car. I guess we all paced ourselves perfectly fine, after all. 🙂 By this point I had to pee something fierce. I looked around for a semi-private place to wander off to but there really weren’t many options, especially as more teammates started to roll in. Aimee tried to...