My 17km Run To Give You This...

Every year on Christmas day, I give myself the gift of a long morning run. You might think this is a cheap gift, as it's something I do every weekend. (If you need an explanation- then shame on you as you obviously did not run this morning.)
In my 17km slow steady run I thought of my races in 2011, about how my new WiiFit is sure to improve my Hula Hooping skills, about how much apple pie I ate last night, about Dylan's wide eyes when he woke, and about all of you. What could I write? How could I choose my words wisely? I wanted to post something this Christmas, as I couldn't send each of you a card... but I had nothing worthy. And time wasted reading BS is time you can never get refunded.

So sometimes, in moments of question/ depression/ writers block/ hangover, we are best to use the words of others. I could stare into this computer screen with all the motivation in my heart, with all the high hopes of inspiring each one of you wonderful readers, and yet sometimes my words can be much like the NBC coverage of Kona- wasted potential.

So I decided to share my favorite poem. If you believe yourself not poetic, read it anyways pls... I've used Kipling's words many times in my life, and I believe they might prove useful for you too.

You are all uber-smart people, so I need not explain it's relevance. I hope it inspires you all to keep reaching your goals and to keep tri-ing. Cheers to your massive success in 2011!
Train safe,



If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream–and not make dreams your master,
If you can think–and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings–nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And–which is more–you’ll be a Man, my son!


–Rudyard Kipling

Spring Has Sprung Early

This past week has been a week of awakening. I feel somewhat like a phoenix, a post-Moovember, slower, fair weather phoenix- but a rising one none the less. I've had a week of ah-ha moments that have given my mind and body a much needed kick in the ass.
I'm taking flight on new wings, empowered by confidence, moved into an upward motion by the many wonderful people that have come to surround me.

Like a phoenix flying through the tight knit tunnel-type crowds you see in TDF and those famous European races.....people are cheering and pushing and leading and sharing and life is about to get better than better was before.

What made this week so very different from any prior? I asked for help. Plain & simple, "I'm stuck, can you help?" And what I got where so many heartfelt yeses.... it's absolutely amazing! Like the Good Book reads, when 2 or 3 come together for a common goal nothing is impossible!
The finish line is in clear view... it's a tad far, and it's going to take hard work, persistence, a champion attitude and a lot of will; but I'm taking leaps and strides, my lungs are full of fresh air, my mind & muscles are rock solid strong.

Here's the very thing I discovered- owning a business, helping others, building a leadership, training for a race, being an ambassador of good health & fitness, being a mommy and a friend- it's all the same. What applies in one area of my life applies in the others as well.... we don't get anywhere great on our own. We don't achieve greatness all by our lonesome- we all need a solid inner circle. We give out many high 5's on the way to the finish line, many yahoos and sloppy tears- so we must never do so with the all consuming perception that we are alone. We must consciously take with us to every swim, every bike, every run- the philosophy of others, the encouraging words of our hero's and mentors... because that is how greatness is achieved.

Thank you, all of you, for being a worthy hero to me. You are generous and HUGE in your contribution to my season: my business season and my triathlon season. What a successful season it is going to be!!!

Challenge Roth is set for 2012.... hope to see you all in the tunnel of arms and cheers that line my yellow brick journey there!!!

Learn Something New, Today!

Ok, so as we all read this there is a picture of a blue Immunocal box on the right side of the screen, and I know it's probably become like ugly furniture- you know it's there, but you fail to see it after all this time. However, today and in a few blogs to follow, I will remind you to notice what is written on top of that pic, the line about recovery, because today starts a little segment I'm calling "Learn Something New!" I might be an uber-geek, I might be a self-sponsored, shameless athlete whose business supports her racing; but my ultimate mission is to encourage you in your season, to inspire & perhaps help you to tri. So, now, by reading this blog, you too can get faster & you too can participate in your A race in peak condition- first, though, you need some schooling.

Why? Because this weekend I spend 2 hrs with a team of triathletes, and 3 of them were smart enough to ask questions. I don't mean that like the rest are not smart people; I mean that sometimes we simply do not know that we do not know.
And what is it that most triathletes do not know? That the ROI of training is completely lost if we do not recover efficiently. Now, if you train 5 hrs a week, and you race 3 sprint distance tri's in your season, well, then recovery is not your problem- race strong! But, if you are at all serious in this wonderful world called endurance sport, and you are wondering how you will ever get better when you are already giving so much, then perhaps your recovery is where you are failing.
Like a monthly spending budget that doesn't take into account the 2 daily XTra Tall db shot coffees at Starbucks- at some point, you will overdraw from your bank.

The disastrous result is not just serious lack of reserves; in a multisport lifestyle, there are serious health & injury dues that will need to be paid. We believe over training is simply a result of being a badass who trains hard a lot of the time. Well that's not right, not at all, so lucky you I am here to help you learn some of the science of endurance training so you will be able to make recovery a part of your training program. Because in your everyday business and on race day, the best person is the person whose physical & mental self are 110% willing & ready.

After years of helping others be fit, of teaching nutrition and proper weight management, I have taken on the science of the immune system. Learning these details has changed my life, both my everyday existance and my training... how? Because there is a very big difference between thinking you are healthy, and really being healthy. That took me years of university, of seminars, of trail & error and asking questions. But I'm a nice person who loves her sport and her readers.. so here, very short yet sweet, eazy to understand, is Part I of Your Science Fix:
Why The Immune System = Recovery.

Actually, in the world of endurance training and stress, it plays a major role in metabolic regulation and therefore also in our available energy. What does that mean? A healthy immune system is responsible for making sure the muscular system gets repaired by our inflammatory and internal healing processes, that the heart and lungs respond to training as they should, and it prevents us from lacking the energy we need after training to fight off virus and bacteria.
As a triathlete, you must know that common over training symptoms are warning to an immunodeficiency: longer need for recovery, increased fatigue, sores & herpes, restless sleep patterns, an unusual appetite, aches & pains without reason, lingering injuries, mood yo-yo & depression, the common cold that won't go away.
It is not in our bodies best interest to be in pain. Training should hurt, in the moment, not 4 hours later. And certainly we all know that the common intake levels of caffine, sugar and advil are the opposite of healthy, not to mention give us very short term results.
Be aware of your body, program your recovery just as your do your training... the season has yet to start, poor planning now could easily prevent you from arriving in peak shape.

Recover, then Train Safe!

Jules G.... U are NOT an IM...

NOT an IM. Not at all. And I don't mean IM as in Ironman... no, I'll never be that so you must stop holding your breath. Challenge(woman) in Roth is planned, but that's another blog for another day.

To my point of NOT being an IM: The pool. Good gosh can those Master swimmers IM. They absolutely love it, and I think they are starting to enjoy the site of skinny, wimpy me dying after each set. It's not that I am not enjoying these new challenges, I actually do like doing the butterfly, and believe or not I am quite fast in my breast stroke. They are both great pectoral stretches that I am rather fond of, plus, really, let's be honest- is the butterfly not the sexiest thing one can do alone in the pool? But, after 12X125m IM yesterday(50m butterfly) I admit, once again, I was forced back to a lifeless caterpillar. All my fast legs won't save me this time. It's war with these Masters - I'm reducing my runs to 3 X wk, just to save 1 training session for the pool. I'll lead lane 5 if it kills me!

A triathlete on a mission. Thank the modern day Gregorian calendar that Rev3 Quassy is still many months away, because the Endurance Nation would be quick to point out this is not 'specification' at all.
I've got time. I can do this.... because to make IMPOSSIBLE into POSSIBLE, you must kill the IM.

MOOve over MOOvemember!!

I woke up yesterday to find a restored energy within my own brain. It’s not that I’ve been a total slug lately, but MOOvember is such a long month of sacrifice… as many friends do their part for prostate cancer, I couldn't grow a 'stache if I tried... so it's perfect timing that MOOvember is always the month I slow down, reflect on seasons past, do less, plan for the season ahead, and try to gain a few fatty lbs.

(This MOOvemeber- that was all so much easier than I remember it being!! Just this morning, I found my bum!)

When I woke up yesterday it was still dark, but I had fallen asleep reading the newest medical journal notes (ubergeek alert!) and the light from my bedside table was reflecting off my Timberman finisher’s medal across my room. I felt 15 again… somehow, the excitement of what I’ve accomplished, where I am now and what’s to come got all tangled together…. I woke up completely drunk off possibility!
The upcoming season (which started today!) is certainly going to be much different from last. It’s like me to switch it up, I get bored when life becomes too routine. I’m going to hold strong to my self belief, because this year I am out on my own. A self sponsored, self-coached wanna-be faster triathlete – hoping to add 3 HIM medals to her wall of fame, crossing 1 more off the Bucket List. The new business has given me the ability to work from home, to travel when I want, to be more involved in Dylan’s school, to get my little foundation off the ground and actually start making a difference in this tri-world. Hence, the toughest decision was made, and I’ll no longer be racing in my red & black… I’m teamless this season. I’m not at all hopeless, I’m just being my own person, with the freedom to fight the battles that matter most to me.

One can’t stand on the sidelines forever, at one point F being the cheerleader, get out there & fight…

So what do I need to change for 2011? Now that MOOvemeber is almost over I’ve certainly had more than enough days to pull out the training journal of seasons past, find my mistakes so I can attempt to correct them. Here is my long plan put rather shortly & free of detail (This is not Dave Scott type stuff, certainly my training plans are not good enough to be secret…):

SWIM: My swim is good for someone who just 1 year ago learned to swim. But it still sucks. 35 minutes in Timber was a lot of fun, but really, not a pace I want to ‘maintain’. I need to hurt in the water. I need to be pushed beyond the threshold. To do that, I joined the toughest Masters Swim Club within driving distance. They are nice people. They smiled and welcomed me into lane 5, then proceed to kick my triathlete butt with a series of painful and vomit inducing IM’s. That was Wednesday. I still can’t do a proper shoulder press. YAHOO! Out of my comfort zone, Ouch already!

BIKE: My bike doesn’t suck for lack of motivation. I love riding my bike and volunteer myself to +10hrs a week on it. That’s my problem. My bike rides become very similar to marathon training. I have so much fun out there, I start looking at the scenery, singing songs in my head. Smiling and laughing all the way through a 5 hr ride. Not what serious riders do, certainly not representing the Rules of the Euro Cyclist at all. I look too fit & my kit matches & my bike is white & spotless- I must put myself under more strenuous regulations this season. I’m also upgrading to a more serious, faster all carbon model this spring, with some deep rim carbon wheels… I’d better start getting fast, or I’ll be a stereotype by June.

Run: There’s not much I can say about my run. I ran all of Timber, I didn’t stop didn’t crawl didn’t walk. I negative split a rather not too impressive half marathon. I used to be a serious runner. A fast, always injured, always in pain with something torn runner. So leading into my first HIM this June, I am 110% focused on not being injured. I am recovering like a pro: Sleeping, drinking my Immunocal Platinum (this is not promotion, this is MY blog. Yes I rep the company- because the stuff works, just try it!) I take my Omega’s & get my sleep & eat gluten-free & am signed up to do my Bikram yoga all winter. I will continue to chase that 1:34 half for another year.

Life & Work:In 2010 I got 3 people running. Somehow, the little blog & the little life got 3 newbie’s out running. I hope to repeat again in 2011. I have right now the ability & the tools to help those who are sick, those who are very old, those who are young & should be fresh like me: I have made my life about helping others, and I have made sure this blog follows that same path. The big blue head is coming around, although the details and ‘legalities’ still have to be sorted, it will be used to buy an underprivileged little girl a bike, so she too may tri this season. The proceeds will come out of all sales associated to triathlon: let a few, hopefully many, help give back. If you trust me, and you want to take your recovery to the next level, know that you will gain faster times, a much healthier body, and you will have played a part. With a good plan and some active execution- we can all make a difference!!
Live your PB, & Train safe!!

Follow Me! Follow Me!

Lately I asked all my friends, and their friends, and anyone who has even just 1 friend, to follow this blog. I must thank those who took the time to click the blue follow box on the right of the screen- it’s neither my ego nor my belief that my writing holds any importance. It’s my way of simply making a point.

In the many tragic, and many beautiful things revolving around this sport- the brilliance of it will always be obvious in how anybody, with some determination, some spare time, & a dream- can make impossible into possible. Humans are freaks, with incredible mental & physical abilities. Chrissie just went 8:36 in AZ today- we can all achieve our best when we want, how we want. We can all be bigger & better than we ever imagined. This sport reminds us all, daily, that we all have that choice. I’ve made beautiful friends through this sport; I’ve been inspired to achieve greatness and also been kicked out on my ass. I’ve been happier than happy, and been so disappointed in myself I've made myself cry. I’ve lined up with fast woman, slow woman, skinny mini & big old strong women. I’ve been passed by a man with 1 leg, I’ve been humbled by a 6yr old with not one to stand on.

I came onto this blog site, made it my own, and created a little space on the www that feels like home to me. I’ve asked you all to follow, to perhaps enjoy, perhaps be a tidbit inspired…. Because there are many, too MANY, who still don’t quite understand the beauty of this sport. That it really brings people of all abilities and walks of life together. Triathlon is young, yet still we have come a long way from the original 15 men who lined up for the first Ironman in 1978. Our races, of all distances, sell out way to early in advance. We have corporate America supporting us; our most recent World Champ will be the newest face on the famous Wheaties box. We have our own bike, our own wheels, our own wars and our own race in the Olympics. The sport of triathlon is not rich in history, but it’s rich in community, it’s rich in opinions, and its filthy rich if you’re the WTC.

So, you must be wondering, if this sport is so fantastic, so bloody brilliant and so mainstream- why is one mom / wanna-be faster triathlete all of a sudden on a mission to get strangers following her blog??

Because, if anyone else has noticed, over the past year a very famous website has featured several pro / AGer blogs. They are informative, sometimes funny, void of emotion but none the less entertaining to read. THEY ARE ALL WRITTEN BY RUNNERS! When one of the biggest media & event names in our sport cannot, with it’s endless budget and very long list of contacts, show enough love to our sport to find 1 blogger…. Well, I’m on a mission to prove not that triathlon has history (Molina!) or that they are good people (Crowie!) or that they have something intelligent to say (Chrissie!) or that they are funny (IM TALK) no no no, I’m simply trying to prove that we can, as well as any ol’ runner- write.

Happy readings, & to my followers now & those to come- THANK YOU. You each inspire me every day, to be more of the Super Star Dylan already believes me to be! I heart you all!

Live your PB! Train safe, the basement can be a wild place!

It Was Time...

It is the end of an era. Well, maybe not an era, but it's the end of the 2010 season- officially. Why? My beautiful blue 70.3 athlete's bracelet just fell apart, and slid off my wrist in an 'omg' tear jerking moment this morning.
sniff sniff...

Ok, have your laugh. There is a reason I am good at what I do, I care way too much about the little details of life. Make no mistake people- my crunchy, washed up blue wrist band will be framed with my medal by next week. I'm more than proud of it. I'll make a shrine out of it! I'm not a hoarder by any means, but somethings one must keep as reminders... Hence the only two newborn things I kept of Dylan's are his mini running shoes & a teeny tiny (unused) diaper. I see them, and they inspire me to be better.
The milestones of life shamelessly define us. We get teary eyed, yet we smile proud, as we know the person we were before is somehow very different from the person we became in that moment.
Dylan was 36hrs of pain & now 4 years of giggles & adventure. Timberman was 6hrs of fun filled determination. One is my beginning, the other my second chance. One was joy lost to uncertainty & fear. The other was very much the opposite.

Don't leave all that you are in a FB application of what type of tree you'd be, or what dog you most resemble. Triathletes are not Chihuahua's. Wondering why you are here? Why this sport continues to push you, motivate you, inspire or scare you? Here's my tidbit of wisdom for the upcoming 2011 season: just do it, you'll find a whole new person underneath.

2010 was the year I faced my fears. I did every single thing I was too chicken shit to do in 2009: I took motherhood by the hand, and walked with it, at my own pace with my own amateur program, and I qualified with brilliance. :o) I saved a friendship that encompassed personal heartache- putting someone else's needs way ahead of my own. I rode my bike out on the open highway, even after the tragic losses that devastated our community. I learned to swim, despite the inability to control the asthma that came with it; I caught my breath. I started & finished perfectly the race I sincerely didn't believe I could do: I didn't back out, or find an injury excuse, I went alone and did it all on my own like a big, brave girl. I took the dream job, the one I've wanted for years- I've embraced it and am making it a success, helping people left, right & centre. And I really don't care if you believe helping others is a silly excuse for a career.

I'm not bragging, I'm not even trying to impress myself. I am trying to tell you that you don't have to jump over the edge.... just take a step, and another step.... and each one after that will follow out of the remarkable momentum you created in your own life.
WTF, Jules? You ask. What does this have to do with triathlon? A lot.

We are part of a sport that puts definitions and boundaries on success. Times and distances, I did this, you only did that. I ride this, you still have training wheels... What would happen, in 2011, if you decided to be your own cheerleader and your own sponsor? If you do it in your own way? If you take on 1 challenge and forcefully attack it with all the fire in your belly? If the only thing stopping you from tri-ing this season is a fear of swimming, or riding, or overdosing on gels... I urge you to take 1 step outside your habitual life to just do it. Start small, in the basement or in the slow lane, bring a buddy for moral support, and try to kick his/ her ass in the process. You might not want a cheap, plastic bracelet- but you'll get a new definition of who you really are, and who you'd really like to be.


Empower yourself. Live your PB. Train safe.

Here I Go Again...

Inspiration. Motivation. Gogogo. Yahoo... There are many words we toss around in sport. Marketing slogans, brilliant North Face ads, silly unimportant blogs... Words are genius as they have the power to both build & destroy. Courage was the word of the year for me. I built my life around it for the 52 weeks leading into Timberman. Really quite impressive how 7 letters stuck together could have such a life changing impact. I took my love of quotes & North Face ads and transferred them here- the little blog that could. An outpouring of my personal life in a too-much-info filled world. Maybe I need more friends who will listen to me, maybe then I wouldn't feel important enough to write...but I started this blog simply because I hoped that my quest for courage would inspire someone to find a trace, at least, of that same courage in themselves. The courage to love, to live to the fullest, to tri. To TRI. Like the bumper sticker! Turns out, the person I inspired the most on this Yellow Bricks journey was myself.

Now that Timberman has come & past, many have asked what would happen next? Is the journey over? Do I log out of this blogspot, never to return again? I didn't know really, until now. I did know I fell completely in love with the 70.3 distance; head over heels enough to do many more. But would any readers really care??? I doubt anyone reading this needs training advice from newbie me.... Most of you probably do 70.3 more justice that I did anyway.

What I also know to be true is that the drive I had to get to that finish line at Timberman is gone. Not to mean that I am not motivated to continue, rather, the goals I had going into that race were fulfilled. It was an emotional journey that represented a lot- having completed the race exactly as I had hoped made those particular dreams a welcome reality. I found the courage I was desperately searching for. So what goals remain now? What can I promise you, the reader of all my nonsense?? What can I offer you now???

Well, I have always believed that triathlon, in all it's goof's & glory, is very much like everyday life. It's composed of learning and constantly striving. In the 20 hours a weeks I spend training, maybe 5 are good. 5 make me feel like I am doing something right, the remaining 15 force me to focus on something other than how bad ass I think I am. Like a job, like being a parent, a best friend, I suppose like being someone else's better half.... there are constant reasons to get out of aero, refuel and adjust, so that you can be better, stronger, more patient, more giving of the 99.9% you originally promised to give.

So Yellow Bricks will also adjust. As I now look to the future with courage & confidence, I see my goal is very different. Selfishly, I will drag Dylan around this great planet checking races off that Bucket List one by one. Hopefully within the next 49 years we will do them all. ..We have each other, and a costly but vast selection of planes, trains, and automobiles to bring us where I want to be. We are lucky beyond. So just like Dylan must give away a less amusing toy every time he gets a shiny new one, I will also share the love of this incredibly giving sport with those less capable. Timberman was very personal. Now I find a new motivation to race for something other than my own needy ego. There are some not as lucky as Dylan & I.

I haven't decided yet; there are several 'causes' quite close to my heart. I also promise next season will not become an open hand looking for your money... We can, as athletes & wkend warriors & everyday wonderful people, make a tangible difference in other ways. I will use my imagination and come up with 2 'funraisers' for next season: 1- 70.3 Rhode Island in June
2- Cedar Point Half Rev in September.

Yellow Bricks will continue to be a tiny blimp in the www........ as my 70.3 athlete bracelet is still around my wrist, this blog will serve as a confessional, a motivational tool, a reminder that anything & everything really is possible.


Thank u, & train safe!

Glory Days

I'm going to vent... don't say I didn't warn you.

I'm venting in a good way... but I'm insulted & frustrated & I must get it off my bosom.

It was mentioned to me that registering my 4 year old to race another 1km might be a 'stupid idea' !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WTF??

Apparently 4 is too young to learn the values & integrity that come from racing, and 1km can be run on the soccer field any day, why should I pay and why should he even bother??????????? WTF??

First off, I'll start by admitting that yes, I am thrilled & I take great pride in the fact that Dylan is competitive. He enjoys his victories, no matter how big or how small (he's 4, having proper aim in the toilet is a victory). And I believe he should. We celebrate a 'perfect pee' because I am raising a person here, one whom I can only pray I have raised to be a decent and contributing adult one day. Much the same way we stand straight and look at where we are 'shooting', we also train for these 1km races because he has learned that reaching a goal is a victory no matter how cumbersome.

He knows that the medal comes with a rush of pride in his little-big heart that he did it on his own. No piggyback, no scooter, no alternative way of making it real. The raw human truths that exist for us as we swim, bike, run our way through the miles are just as evident and life changing for him in 1 km. Now, I'm not crazy enough to believe he puts as much stress on the local kids race as I did on Timberman... he can't yet read a calendar, and he certainly cannot be introspective enough to be passionate about running- but kids get it. They get it better, obviously, than some adults... that when you say you will do something, and you proceed to do it no matter how much it hurts (remember when he hit The Wall in Ottawa.... ouff...) that the accomplishment changes you for the better.

Just as I believe every single driver should be put out in traffic on a bike before handed their drivers licence, I think every small headed, emotionless adult should be forced to run a kids race. 1km. I bet you the majority couldn't do it as brilliantly as those kids do, and I bet you my next half marathon entry that they would cross the finish line crawling with a whole new respect for the amazing spirit that lives in all athletes, no matter how old or young.

We live in a society where a packaged fruit twist has replaced an apple, where video games and Diego are more entertaining than hide-n-seek. It seems horrifying to think that anything as simple as kicking a soccer ball through grass could ever replace the emotion-filled, high 5 spirit of the 'marathon'. If Dylan running his intervals up and down the driveway replaces 10 minutes of Disney Channel dullness I am celebrating that as a mothering victory. I take amazing pride in my boy's races, not because I want him to be the next Crowie, but because I want him to be somebody.

1km September 19th: race report to follow.


Train safe,

Race Report: Timberman 70.3

It's done. WHAT A DAY!!! I will try to explain by sticking to the facts without getting too emotional. Yeah right, c'est moi... make popcorn, get comfy...

My day started at 3am. I had set 4 different alarm clocks, but I woke up before anything starting beeping, and thanks to some very Virgo organization- I was out of my fancy motel room 20 minutes later. Coffee in my system, breakfast on the seat beside me, all my gear in the back seat, I arrived at 3:38am to be the 18th car in line waiting to enter the race site parking. It was already raining and there was only gospel on the radio.
At that moment, somehow, I knew this was a glimpse of the day ahead.

Transition & body marking opened at 5am. The rain had stopped and by 5:15 my transition zone was ready, my bike loaded with my nutrition. I figured the 1.8km swim is warm up enough, no need to start running mile repeats in the bike chute. I also realized I had woken up, had coffee, eaten, brushed my teeth 3 times (all that heavy breathing, best to have a fresh mouth) but I had yet to pee. This is not the Jules I know. The Jules I know is a wreck before any race. She's sick, she cries, she becomes over excited & over afraid...not this girl... I was having the time of my life!!! Having a clear vision of what I wanted my day to be and now more than enough time on my hands, I took to the fun task of making friends with the girls around me. We spoke about the bike course, we decided who would be first off the bike (the girl from Ottawa with the Sub 9 won that). I pumped tires, helped racked bikes, sprayed Pam on body parts, handed out Power Bar gummies, I chatted with the Chickens, text Dylan 'I heart U'. I hugged the girls good luck and took it all in.
I was proud to be rocking the # 31 on my left calf - it was an age group I felt honored & happy to be in.

The swim start in any triathlon is a moody and surreal place to be- yet the energy Sunday morning was brilliant. There was a very obvious sense of belonging. To the sight of Chrissie bouncing up & down in the water, to the 2,000 people who surrounded me- everyone in a wetsuit, everyone with a cap pulled tight on their head... I was one & the same with all these wonderful people - we were all about to swim, bike, run our way through this race as if it were the only thing that ever mattered. In an unexplainable way, the swim start was like coming home.

Lance Armstrong is quoted to have said that "endurance athletes are all running from something." I now believe the opposite to be true. We are running TO something. An answer, a reason, a new destiny, a renewed self-belief. I knew clearly what I was chasing, and I felt the rush of overwhelming courage to go get it.

I wanted to swim in 36 minutes. I came out of the water in 35:53. Yahoo for me. High 5 the wet suit strippers (who took all my limbs out of my wetsuit, because I was to busy being happy to pull down my torso). Rookie!.

Then time no longer mattered. I was now free to go.

The bike was the only part of my race that had a Plan A & a Plan B. As I left T1 the rain was still being held back in the very cloudy sky, so Plan A took effect: ride at 31km p/h, climb to pass the others (that's the part I do best) descend with imagination ( "I am Lance, I own this hill" was my mantra). Ha, it all worked, even the role-playing! I was having the ride of my life. The first 36 miles of that bike was a party on wheels. I went up & down & forward & I ate on time, drank on time, stopped to pee only once, stopped to give a severely cramped up girl 2 salt tabs, stopped to avoid 1 crazy crash. I cried a lot, laughed a lot, got passed by fast boys with fast wheels. WOW!!!

Then, with about 30km to go, it started raining. Not the OMG I can't see rain, but the steady, slow, big wet drops that soak you to the core. The "shit this white line is slippy now" type of rain. Plan B came into effect - survival of the fittest... Race- mode Jules had enjoyed her fun, now Mommy-mode Jules took over. My pace slowed down, the descents gave reason for the fast boys with fast wheels to curse at my snail pace. My mantra vanished from memory; the song now stuck in my head??? Amazing Grace. 3:38am deja-vu.

I cried rolling into T2. Tears of appreciation I couldn't hold back. 50 weeks training X 8 hrs a week on the bike... I had done it. Justice for every hour I am out risking it all in traffic, not home with Dylan. I really had found the courage I needed. I found the strength that once upon a time I was certain I didn't have. I rode into T2 a new woman. A better mother. A better friend. I felt bad- ass and suddenly beautiful! YAHOO!!! Bonus in tri- they save the best for last: I was free to run.

I had only 1 goal for the 21.5km run; to run. Not walk, no crawling, no shuffle, no DNF. Just run proud, strong and free. Except this run, I soon discovered, is not a run, it's a mindset. This is where the will must be stronger than the skill.
I had 2 gels left, and no gadget to give me splits or time. I was OK though, and with confidence in my running form, I simply watched the scenery go by. I found the girls in my age group and wished them well as I ran by. My shoulders were light, my feet were numb, my cheeks hurt, and it all came together when I needed it the most.

I am happy to say- this was my best best run ever. Not my fastest by any means, but my proudest 21.5km ever!! I did it, with a negative split, and a sprint into the finish.... (Didn't care to even look up at the clock. Not so Lance-ish of me!) It was my moment to cry, to hug myself, to take in what I had just accomplished. The cheese on my poutine-- the amazing Chrissie greeted my tears of joy with a hug, my medal and finishers cap. To be told that my "finish was beautiful!" by my hero almost made me believe I didn't look as bad as I suddenly felt.

Like getting slammed by a sumo, my entire body went heavy & hard & cold. The aftermath comes quick and it comes with vengeance!

I couldn't walk, couldn't talk, couldn't eat. I hugged the friends I saw. I hugged myself and plopped onto the ground, in a corner, under my foil blanket, and although I thought I would cry again, I didn't.
I just sat there, smiling, like a crazy lady with snot on her face, feeling pretty darn lucky to be me.

Timberman was #1 on my list. I have been asked countless times, "why?". 70.3 miles, is after all, 70.3 miles no matter where it is. Yes and No. Timberman is in New Hampshire. New Hampshire's slogan is 'Live Free or Die.' A race in the perfect place, perfectly worded to prove to myself that I am healthy & strong, more courageous, more capable and very much free from the fear that almost held me back.

So what's next?? Rev3 Cedar Point Half will be the next check off the old list. There's no deep meaning, no voices calling... but there is one freakin' high roller coaster, a beach, and hopefully a hot triathlete guy with fast wheels who can buy me a post-race margarita!
YAHOO!!!!


Train safe,

Pre-Timberman Crumbs...

It's here. THAT week. The week I've been planning for over a year. It rolled in like I imagine my 80th birthday will eventually... seemingly so far off until the day you wake up to cheesecake & martini's for breakfast (I vow to only eat cheesecake when I get there...79 years of green food certainly warrants a few of chocolate truffle with a crisp graham cracker crust... non?)
THAT week = taper. Oh I hope I do 80 more justice than I have done taper! I still have 2 days to go before race day, and it's been 8 days too long already. It's not the cutting back on volume that gets me, nor the public displays of recovery socks in sandals; it's the hunger. I can eat more during taper than I do at Joe Beef on a Saturday night. My body says 'feed me' ever so loud, every so often. And I, being the strong rock solid taperer that I am, give in, and eat.... and eat... and eat.... Dylan & I read Dr. Seuss in bed last night, each of us with a bowl of Cheerios.
I'm racing Clydesdale on Sunday.

I leave to Nowhere, NH very early tomorrow morning. I don't drive well, I get bored... so I packed snacks!

The normal pre-big race traditions have been done. The car is packed with enough tri-junk for a db Ironman. Extra goggles, extra helmet, toilet paper, extra race suit, extra massive can of Pam, 24 extra gels, an entire gallon of Hammer powder, and extra Gatorade- just in case... I have 4 tubes, 4 Co2 thingys, and my pump: If you have a friend, who has a friend who is in need of a friend on race day because they forgot something... call me!!! I have extra!!

My bike computer is set to miles. My watch has a new battery. Knowing me, I'll drive into the sunrise tomorrow and forget my bike.

For some reason, out of all the races on my Bucket List, this one represented the most to me personally. To say the training has calmed my fears is not a lie, but to say it took all the courage & determination I have in me is certainly an understatement. So what do I predict for Sunday??? I have no clue!!! I know I will be happier than anyone has ever seen me. I know my cheeks will hurt from smiling as much as my quads will hurt from the hills. I know I will cry over Dylan's little picture taped to my bike stem, and I will laugh in transition because he painted on my mat (A stick man with the biggest penis-looking head standing on a pogo-stick as he wins a race). I pray it doesn't rain, not only for my lack of bike skills, but also so the washable marker he used doesn't fade away...

When I started this blog, it was about my journey to Timberman. It never became much about my training, but much more about the thoughts that went through my mind during training. I don't know who reads this, but for you who does- I thank you. This eat-festival of a taper would be much less manageable if not for the amazing friends I have made along the way... :) If you can take one more posting of my silliness, there will be a full race report next week... after that, I still don't know....

Until then, train safe.

To Infinity & Beyond!!!

Yesterday I was able to participate in my team's annual triathlon. I didn't race, rather I chose to watch from the sidelines and help out where I could. Directing traffic in & out of transition, I yelled instructions and cheered until I lost my voice. I watched athletes of all abilities go by; some flew, some found time to slap my high 5 as they went by... Most were out there having a good time on their way to a fast PR, while others clearly just wanted the entire Sprint distance over with (funny how these were not the fastest folks.... if it is that brutal, hurry up and get it over with, no?).

The morning spent yelling "it's only 5km, just RUN that way..." made me think about Timberman. Will I get off the bike telling myself "it's only 21.5km bitch, RUN...." ??? I damn well hope so! Knees forward, foot back, chop wood carry water.... RUN LIKE A MOTHER.......
Will I cross the finish line completely finished? I hope I do that too. Will I be ready for the next race? I hope I am, because there are a few to chose from...

I am a master of lists: I make a list every morning of the day's To Do. I make a list at the office of the same impossible expectations. I makes lists when packing, when going grocery shopping, mostly I make lists just to rip them up. It's not eco-friendly, but strangely, once I've written the list, I no longer need it.

Expect for one: one list has followed me for years. It started as a list of 10, and since grew to 15. No rips to the paper, perfectly hidden from Dylan's gripping hands, it's cherished like gold. It's my Bucket List of all the races I want to do before I turn 80 (or as long as it takes me to do them, and as long as it's all fun & games!) Timberman was tops on that list. It's about to get checked off.... hence, in the moments I allow myself the joy of a daydream I wonder, what's next?
I'm superstitious, therefore planning the next one until I cross the finish line in NH is not really my style...but with races selling out in minutes... hmmm...

The top 10 of my list looks like this:
1) Timberman 70.3
2) Wildflower
3) Nautica New York City Triathlon
4) Paris Marathon
5) Challenge Roth (IM distance)
6) Rev 3 Cedar Point (Half distance)
7) Rohto 70.3 Hawaii
8) Hy-Vee Triathlon
9) Abu Dhabi Triathlon (Long course)
10) SSQ Quebec City (half marathon)

The list goes to 15.... in no particular order, they are all just experiences I want to live. 1 race I have already done, 1 is about to get done, (knock on wood) and for the remaining 13- I can only pray I am healthy enough to conquer them before the big 80.
So, what's next???? I guess I'll know when I cross the finish line in 13 days.... after all, I'll have 70.3 miles to think it over.... ;0)

It's hot.
I'm hot.
As I sit here I am well aware of my hotness.

This week's track work out was so hot I sprinted away from it, to a nice 8km loop in the shade.
The heat combined with a sinus infection has also made me quite the dork as I now swim, bike, run around with my asthma pump... not so hot! ;)

Summer is upon us, and I don't do well in the heat. It's not that I don't enjoy the short summer months; I do. I'd take summer over winter any day. Running half naked is much more comfortable than running with grips under my Zoots. However, with Timberman coming up in 3 weeks, I've started to get nervous about the one thing we should never be nervous about - the weather.
What if it rains? Yes, I know, I faced that fear at the Coteau race and I came out alive & running. But New Hampshire has hills; I'm not to certain downhill in the rain is a skill I have mastered.
What if it's hot & humid? Last year's race was, and all I got from friends were reports of serious 'heat induced' nutrition problems. I ran a summer half marathon one year - all my Gu Chomps melted in my pocket. What if I get out of the water on race day and all my food has disintegrated to form a massive sticky mess around my asthma pump?? (paint the L on my forehead right now)
What if it's perfect race weather, the run course is shady, and I have the amazing time I have envisioned for the past year? What if in my attempts to simply finish, I simply have so much fun that I make friends with 70.3 miles, and decide to do it again? What if? Perhaps I'll enjoy it so much I'll slow down (I can't go much slower, but let's pretend...) so I slow down to enjoy the race & get the most out of the scenery & the crowd?

I am a bit nervous about the weather. Looking at my history I've also become super fixated on not getting injured. I had flips flops waiting for me as I exited the swim yesterday; can't risk stepping on a rock in transition! Today might just be my final ride out in the wild- I can train just fine in the air-conditioned, squirrel and car free zone of my basement...

Ok, so I'm more than a bit crazy....I'm even more excited though, that the goal I set 1 year ago is now 21 days away. Even the sinus infection from hell right now cannot wipe the smile off my face. Just speaking about Timberman gets me all teary eyed. 70.3 miles might seem like only a Half to some... to me it's 70.3 miles to freedom. Even the weather won't stop this dream from coming true...

Train safe...

Girls Gone Wild...

This year I am lucky enough to be on a team of wonderfully able triathletes. Although I probably wouldn't recognize most of them in everyday work attire, when the goggles are on, these are the people I will go to sprint distance war for. If there is a force to reckon with, it's us, together on race day, in our red & black.

Racing in the rain: Been there, done that, all while slamming a GU.

As the men took off 1 hour before we did, us girls got down to the business of wetsuit zippers, bike set-ups and last minute advice. Having transition to ourselves, smiles and giggles replaced the normal race tension. There was no talk at all of times, age group competition, faster wheels or aerodynamics. Nor was it pink and pretty. It was lean and mean in a 'watch out the women are coming' kind of way.

The ancient Greeks (smart ass people) believed that the human spirit advanced through competition. That is how the human race achieved it's best. Competition was almost religion back then. Standing in transition last Saturday, I couldn't help but noticed that not much has changed.

On paper, I had a pretty good race- I didn't reinvent the disc-wheel. I didn't 'kill' the course, no sprint distance records were broken. Friendships were sealed though, when team spirit, 1 amazing coach, (& my cheering mother) got us girls through a wet & wild race; one teeny tiny step for the human spirit, one huge step forward for a team of high energy, overachieving women. In the cold morning rain, the uncertainly of wet suit / no wetsuit, we achieved our best and we did it damn well.
I am left motivated & in awe of the company I keep.


Train safe,

Races in Flat Places (& Dr. Seuss)

I have a thing for quotes. Words, vocabulary, sentences. I have quotes taped to my walls, in my wallet, in my car, sometimes even on my bike & written in my Zoots. There are words I LOVE, and there are words we are not allowed to use in my house.
Hate is a 'bad word'. Stupid is as well. So is Can't. We don't use these, not as verbs or adjectives - never in a sentence. Dylan has never been able to slide them past me, and he knows why. Bad, bad words.

Well, karma is a bitch. And after 3 years of telling Dylan not to say those words, it was his turn to be the parent. Yep, I have a race on Saturday. A race, on a flat course. Let's just say I used all 3 'bad words' in the same sentence when packing for this race. I do not like (insert) racing silly (insert) flat courses because I feel incapable (insert). I do not like them Sam I Am.

My life is full of metaphorical mountains, it's about the climb after all, and I go fast on the up & over.
Of course, I'm wise enough to know that doing 8 X 10km brick sessions out on the track today will put me in peak flat course shape. Of course.
I'll throw a 1080 on the front, a disc on the rear... not a problem. I'll be cruising.

Oh, and the forecast is rain. Would you like them on a train, would you like them in the rain? I would not like them here nor there, I would not like them anywhere.


The exerts say that when it gets tough, we must remember why we race. This will motivate us to crawl to the finish line proud. So, I'll do this race anyways because my 'why?' this year is to face my fears. A flat & wet bike course is probably the biggest fear of all. So, I'm requesting that my support crew (Dylan & Mom & Dad) yell "RUN" to me as I white-knuckle the bike. This will remind me of the goal: Get off the silly (insert) bike so I can run...



Who knows? We also have a rule about trying everything once... maybe, just maybe, this could be fun... You do not like them. So you Say. Try them! Try them! And you may...


Train safe,

When the Wheels Come Down

It's over. It's done. It's in the books; or in my books at least because my name got spelled wrong again so I'm a mystery on the stats page. Never the less, I was # 575, I had a good race, and the first tri of the season is now one I can recall with a smile.

I am happy that smile finally came through, because race morning was typical 'Jules', sick & scared, and it wasn't pretty. I needed help, of the divine kind, and I needed it bad.

About to sell my race to the lowest bidder, I realized some intervention was in order. I sat down on my transition mat, said a good prayer, and had a deep & meaningful conversation with me, myself & I. No surprise, we spoke about Dylan.
My child is on a mission right now, at the coolest age of 3 1/2, to discover absolutely everything about life. He approaches nothing with caution and never gives anything a second's worth of hesitation. As bouncy as children are, they are also fearless. Perhaps appropriate then that just last week we had a mommy-son talk about fear.
Sitting on my transition mat looking like a total DNS, I replayed that talk in my head. Finding logic in Dylan's 3yr old wisdom, I set my pace.
The rain clouds moved on just in time for the morning sunshine to dry the bike course; when you need it most...

The gun went off, all arms and legs and breathing all got tangled together... and I executed a perfect race. I found my confidence coming out of the swim, and it was literally all uphill from then on. No matter to me that I got beat, I really wasn't there to even attempt a podium; I was there to run again, to learn something about myself, about racing and all that encompasses our amazing sport, about my friends & teammates.
I gave out many yahoo's & high 5's on that course, and a good ol' pat on my own back when it was over. Sometimes, it can be good to linger in your own doings. I'm learning to be fearless, I'm trying to be competitive (Steven- be proud!). I might giggle through every race, I probably will never push as hard as I can...but if I can help someone else, or even myself, get to the finish line, then it's a good race for me...

Back on (the) Track, THX2U!

It's early. There is still a dark blue sky outside as I sit here with my morning jolt. Getting in my science fix: a new study was released stating that morning coffee does not affect performance of those who regularly drink a morning cup of coffee. It simply serves to get the body out of caffeine withdrawal. They needed a study to tell coffee drinkers, that we NEED coffee to swim /bike/ run...

In the same way caffeine gets my system back to its normal self, my training also has moments of necessary reset & refuel. Sometimes my runners mindset needs it, sometimes the triathlete I'm aspiring to be needs it, & most times all systems are intertwined & crisscrossed so tightly I become overwhelmed in my attempts to properly sort out the mess myself. With injury comes self doubt. With a bad race comes a lot of questions, and a training plan full of X's and scribble. Tell a runner not to run, and they will be the first out the door. Staying in place is a lot harder than moving forward. Resisting change is a lot harder than embracing it. I woke up this morning with the sudden realization that nothing had changed, yet everything is different - in a really good way.
Where I did change, where my focus strayed and I forgot to nurture the relationships of those I most adore, they patiently remained indifferent- in a totally awesome way.
My friends & family play a major role in this Yellow Brick journey; it's amazing how much support you really have if you slow down enough to see the people on the sidelines.

The past 2 weeks have been full of amazing progress: I am running well again after 7 weeks of injury. I am back on the bike, not having forgotten the recent tragedy, rather being pro-active towards it in my own way (more to come on that in another post!). I have the fire in my belly to race right now. I have a lot of ground to cover to catch up, fearing nothing of the work, strength, blood, sweat & tears that it will require.

With tidbits of advice and enough strength to share- my friends probably just saved my season.... because somehow without having to ask, they see my mishmash of goals and good intentions and they sort it out for me.

When I am off my axis, when the challenge of this 70.3 weighs heavy on my runner's heart, when the chaos of life and being a single mom steer me off track, these are the people who are quickest to show up, and remind me that the red circles scattered across my race calendar have meaning, and purpose. In a sport that has the potential to matter so much it's hard to see where my small efforts can make an actual difference; their honesty tests my intentions. Without a doubt these friendships have been put in mine & Dylans life for a purpose. It is not up to me to make sense of how we got so lucky... I feel honored just to listen & learn, knowing these wonderful people are much wiser, faster, more humble, and brilliant than I.

Timberman is coming up quick. On race morning I hope to wake up to a navy sky, enjoy my morning reset of coffee, and while standing on the shoreline suffocating in my wetsuit, I hope I remember to enjoy the moment in appreciation of all its glory. I will swim /bike/ run in the pathways of those who raced before and ahead of me, my confidence fueled by those who've been beside me the entire journey...

Train safe,

Racing, Teamwork, & Tips from a Pro...

There has been an undeniable feeling of 'YAHOO' in my home since Saturday. Dylan is living the post-race high, and it's provided us a few days of giggles, more giggles, and many victorious high 5's. He is rather famous around town as every kid on the street has been allowed to touch his medal, and everyone we know has called to congratulate him and get his replay of the BIG race. It's also encouraged much talk between Dylan and myself, as to what he accomplished, what he would like to do next, and what really happened out there on the race course (he hit The Wall at 1.2km, it was no-so-fun).

The following interview has therefore been put together using information gathered over the past 3 days. Some questions and answers have also been translated into proper adult English. Although some would argue that this is not proper journalism, he is only 3, and any attempt for a sit down interview quickly got turned into a game of 'good guy bad guy'.
I am using this milestone not to promote Dylan's pro athlete career, rather, we are hoping it will inspire others to try, and perhaps help ease the nerves of any first timers out there. Here it is:

Me: Dylan, u did it! How do u feel?
D: Did I win?

Me: Everybody won; it's about enjoying yourself and trying to be the best you can be. Are you happy with your race?
D: I know I won, because when I stopped there were lots of people behind me, so that means I beat them.
Me: Yes, you did beat some. Were there people ahead of you, did they beat you?
D: Yes, but they don't count.

Me: Did you enjoy racing? Would you like to do another one?
D: Yes, but not today.
Me: No, you recover first, and when you are ready, we can do another one.
D: Will the same kids be there?
Me: No, different kids next time.
D: I want the same kids, so I can beat them again. You should call their mommies.
Me: I'll try...

Me: What happened in the race? You stopped running and wanted a piggy back, but then you were running again?
D: I wanted a snack. It was a very lllloooooonnnnnggggg race, and my legs were getting tired, so was my tummy. But then the lady gave me a lemonade, and let me jump in her sprinkler, and then my legs weren't tired no more. I like lemonade now. And then I was running fast.

Me: You made a friend while you were racing. That was cool.
D: His name was Euan. I didn't know that, it was written on his shirt, but I can't read names yet so his mommy told me his name. And I high 5ed him and we ran really fast. He helped me and I helped him.
Me: Right, that was good teamwork! Then you left him behind and started running faster, why?
D: After I helped him keep running, it was time for me to win the race. So I ran straight ahead faster than him. I didn't look at him, I looked straight so that I wouldn't trip on my other foot. That's good running form. Then, I saw my friend Euan again, after the race, at the juice table. He looked strong, but he needed a lot of juice. I think he did good in the race. I beat him though.

Me: How do you want to train for your next race?
D: In the winter I play hockey, but now it's spring, almost summer, and then it's fall, and then it's winter. So I have a long time before hockey. I like winter because I like to making angels in the snow. But now it's spring almost summer, and there's no snow so we have to put lots of ice in the tub after we train, right mommy?
Me: Right, mommy likes a cold ice bath.
D: So now, in spring almost summer, I use my new scooter for training. And I run with my soccer ball, and I race auntie in the back yard because she can't run, so I beat her to the fence every time.
Me: That's not nice Dylan, that's not the point...
D: But mommy, she just has to run faster, but she can't, so I win. It's by accident!
Me: OK
D: AAANNNDD, for training I do lots of swimming in the big pool. I do swim-bike-run training and racing, but at this race the police were everywhere and they only let us run. They had motorcycles and they were talking to all the good kids; they were trying to find the bad-kid-racers.
Me: The what?
D: The bad-kid-racers: the kids that come to the race and think they will win, but they can't win, and then they cry and they don't get a medal or any lemonade. I got a medal because I won the race.
Me: Everyone who finished got a medal Dylan. It's not about winning.
D: Yes it is mommy. It's about winning when you are fast like me. When you are slow, then it's not, but I'm super fast, and I race to win.

Me: I'm very proud of you Dylan. Not because you won, because you did it. What was your favorite part about your big race?
D: I liked helping my new friend Euan. And I like lemonade now. And the blue toilets were funny because you can't flush them, you just peepee in the hole, and you don't look in the hole because....


Enough said.
It should be noted that Dylan has never completed a triathlon yet. He is too young. He does watch the Kona videos, and does hope to qualify, one day in 15 years.
We hope Dylan's competitive streak will not shy away any newcomers to the sport.

Always Time to Tri...

My new neighbour had a flat tire. Seeing that I was on the trainer, in the driveway, I guess I was the best person to ask. The conversation started with me giving directions to the nearest bike shop; it ended in me giving myself a well deserved pat on the back, as once again I found myself in the familiar role of explaining, and defending, my lifestyle.
To most non-athletic types we triathletes appear extremely selfish. Whether this judgement is rooted in envy, pity, or fascination I really don’t know. However, I do know that we are an easy target to such labels as the hours we take away from the rest of our lives, and the people in it, do add up. Take a moment to actually say it out loud… “I train ___ hours a week.” (Fill in the blank!) WOW! Think about that… the world has PVR so they don’t miss a minute of television, yet every week, I dedicate so many hours to my sport. I swim, bike, run, crunch, lift, stretch… yet I don’t see myself as selfish at all. Even my 3 yr old calls an evening bike ride his ‘training’.
Those who say wise statistical things say that most triathletes are A-type personalities. I can’t help but wonder though, if most were B’s or C’s before they took on the sport, yet, with time have transformed into A’s? Besides, is being an A-type really that bad? I have time management skills that have become so refined I could teach a seminar for newbies. It would be called “Be Faster, at Everything”. Life outside of triathlon is simply mini training sessions, all bricked together… I don’t linger at the dinner table, I eat. This helps my body get accustomed to eating while in movement: race day nutrition. I get dressed in Superman speed: T1 & T2 practice. Going to work, not one person off the subway gets up the stairs faster than I do: this helps me develop mental toughness. They are not fellow commuters’, they are my competition. I have had some brilliant interval sessions just getting to a meeting. Every Saturday afternoon, Dylan & I cuddle up together for our recovery nap. I love it!
No, I do not believe we are selfish. And I do not believe we take time out of our lives for triathlon. I see the water bottle as half full: life, family, and other obligations are all in our triathlon life to inspire us to be more well rounded A-Types. So the next time someone gawks at how you manage to fit it all in, inform them that just speaking to them is training: their ignorance is practice for all those spectators telling you how great you look 3km from the finish line!

Train safe,

On the Road Again...

My father and I were having a conversation last night. In his fatherly way I suppose he was trying to provide me some guidance. We sipped our wine, shed more than a few tears, and came to the conclusion that I should simply take my own advice. Our conversation started because my bike is actually showing signs of neglect: my bike has collected dust. I have not washed it, oiled it, rode it or even looked at it in days.
5 days out of 7, I greet the morning sun out on the pavement. I kiss my baby boy as he sleeps, and I'm off, fueled on coffee & potential. I follow the same route without much thought. It's become mind-numbing how many times I've gone up & down the same stretch of road. I know every bump and curve in that 1.8km; I feel safe there. It's where I ride & run my intervals. I can put on my music and let my body do the work while I shut out the world around me. I have left blood, sweat, tears and vomit along that stretch. Last Friday, I left my passion there as well.
Last Friday, around 3pm, the text messages started to fill my in-box. All the social media paths got bombarded at once. Friday became one of those days that I will always remember. Like we do the worst of tragedies, conversations will start with " I remember where I was when.." The news no one ever wants to hear hit a small community of triathletes, and it hit us hard. The internet flashed the pictures, our text messages went from confusing, to tear jerking, to the simplicity of mourning. 6 local athletes were taken out by a SUV while cycling; 3 beautiful woman died.
Our triathlon community, normally so competitive and unyielding, stopped in unison. Our most horrifying dream come true, too close for comfort, too tragic, too soon.
I came in from my ride at 3pm and as habit checked my Blackberry. My water bottle is still half-full, still sitting in it's cage. Like my pre-Friday beliefs that people are good, my bottle is growing fuzz. What my father understands about me is that my will to change the world through sport is probably my biggest motivator. If the sadness of Friday's accident has replaced my motivation with fear, then I must use it for good and refuel my passion. He told me to speak up, write it down, and 'ride on'. Maybe fathers do know best.
Like most of us, I grew up in a time when we trusted our neighbors. We knew which doors we could knock on if we needed safety. We played hide & seek, we rode our bikes in peace. Now, as an adult and a mother, I am left questioning not only my son's security, but also my own. The safely net of my 1.8km just got yanked from under my feet. My shoulders are tight with sadness, and I am suddenly aware of how heavy the target on my back really is. Do we ever run / ride/ even drive completely aware of our surroundings? If I am out there every day, twice a day, training hard, lost in time and distance, is it not up to me to make sure I get home safe? It is, and it isn't. It's up to all of us.
We must all slow down. Stop, look both ways. Yield and wave. Be patient. Be focused. When I do get back to my training, I won't allow myself to be over-confident, I'll use caution, and approach with hesitation. I'll stop believing I have the right to be out there, I'll remember it is a privilege. Whether on on a bike, in Asics, or surrounded by steel enforced impact beams. I will make a more conscience effort to wave at the other runners I cross, to let them know I've got their back. I'll smile at all cyclists, not just the hot guys in race jerseys. I'll make eye contact. I will wear my Road ID, and turn my music down just a bit, and I will pick my battles out there, testing no one, obeying the traffic rules. I will practice what I preach.
We must also speak up: to our city councils, our municipalities, the driving schools and the local police. We need to educate. We need to communicate our concerns and our needs.
The tragedy of last Friday is not only to be mourned by triathletes & cyclist- it should be felt, spoken about, and never forgotten by anyone who ever steps out their front door. Everyone should be having the same conversation shared by my Dad & I. The reality is that on the most basic level, we are failing each other; we have left no time, given little effort or thought, to helping each other.
You might feel experienced, and therefore safe. Well, then teach by example. One small effort could very easily save a life.
I am not trying to rant, or tell you how to run, or how to drive, or how to act in your everyday life. I am however, with my heart on my sleeve and a Kleenex full of tears, taking in the lesson I hope you never have to learn... that life is fragile, no matter how empowered spandex makes us feel. If we can line up together at the starting line on Sunday, we can be neighborly enough today to make sure we all get there safe.

Please- train smart, train safe. And above all, honk if you yield for athletes!