Money to buy a guitar

The day after the Ironman, July 26th 2010, I hobbled to Steve's music shop and bought myself a very good guitar. I still surprise myself by being surprised every time I can afford to buy something nice and not worry about having enough money to pay for it, because I have enough. I think about how having enough is a function of hard work, and of pure luck. As a child, I wasn't worried about financial security until I ended up on my own at age 15. After that, everything became about finding ways to make sure I would have enough to make ends meet, and to have a bit of savings; those dollars I put aside were primoridal because they bought me dreams and hope. I remember that for my sixteenth birthday, my brother bough me a pair of running shoes; the kind all the kids had in a variety of colors. He got me one (they were white), they replaced the only pair of shoes filled with holes I had worn for years, and I wore the new white shoes everywhere until they too were no longer wearable. I never felt poor- I had three jobs ( I was a clerk in a card shop and a corner store after school 5 days a week and loved the variety of switching between the jobs), and I served meals in an elderly home on the weekends - I had to wear a hair net, but that job was unionized and paid almost double the others. I loved getting my paychecks. I would calculate the net amount in advance. I knew exactly how much money I had in which of my multiple bank accounts at all times. I knew how much my groceries would cost, how I could save and still eat well by buying the fruits and veggies on special only, and I was grateful to Mr. Mallen who let me pay the rent on the day which suited me each month; I lived with the illusion of having plenty even though I had very little. But I couldn't afford a guitar then - and that was ok because I didn't even allow myself to think I could want one.

Luck and a few right choices made the rest possible. Hard work at school and diligence in my studies got me a multitude of scholarship to great Universities. I loved school, but only for the accomplishment of the grade; what I learned I forgot as soon as the semester was over. University (and a boy) led to my love of the Spanish language. I graduated fluent in three languages. I wanted to travel - in the middle of a recession with no money in my pocket - and asked myself how I could travel and be paid for it. Luck (and perseverance) led me to land a job on a cruise ship. At sea I was fed, clothed and my travel was fully paid; I managed to save almost every cent I earned for over five years. I left the Ocean life with enough of a downpayment for a condo - and my real estate investment doubled in 5 years. I bought a house, and it's price doubled. Back on land I started at the bottom of the corporate hierarchy; I worked hard, got promoted often, and earned an honest living doing something I was good at. There was alot of luck - I met extraordinarily bright men and women who believed in me and who I wanted to make proud in return. I had children, and they made my life make sense. It was up to me to provide for them, and make sure they did not grow up wanting. It was also up to me to teach them that frivolous purchases were frivolous... and that happiness didn't come from having all of the latest electronic gadgets.
I never took any of it for granted. I don't have alot of money compared to some, and I have more than others. I live with the knowledge that I am rich from who i am, and not from what I own; and that it could all disappear tommorrow, the money, and I wouldn't be worse off for it. I got here because I worked, but I was also lucky. Very lucky. And I still push myself every day to work hard because there are little beings who I am financially responsible for now. And every time I spend on something I don't need, I am still surprised that I can. Like the guitar. I was going to buy the beginner's guitar, the inexpensive, practical guitar that comes with the kit, the metronome and the case for a very low package deal, ideal for someone who just wants to strum. And I surprised myself in the store when I asked the clerk: - He showed me a few models that were a few hundred dollars more. Still, I pressed on - Oh, those are more than beginner guitars; they can suit the needs of experts too too>. , I replied. And thus I ended up with a top of the line, Quebec made, Seagull guitar with all of the trimmings. I paid for it on my credit card (to get the points), and transferred money out of my savings account to pay off the credit card the minute I got home (I always do, paying interest is like flushing money down the toilet). And because of my past and because of my relationship with money, I couldn't let the guitar sit in a corner unused. I started thinking about millionaires who collect cars and pay for car insurance and parts and labor and a heated garage for their cars just for the priviledge of driving whatever car they want when they want, and it all seems so wasteful to me. Why buy something if you don't use it? Why collect homes around the world just to visit them a few weeks a year? You end up paying taxes and utilities and its just like throwing money out the window! And so I reasoned the same way about the guitar: What's the point of buying the guitar if it won't be used to make beautiful music? And so I began to learn; and the purchase of the guitar also bought me the immense satisfaction of learning a new skill. At the beginning, I hated the sound I made every time i tried a chord. And then Sidney (the teacher who came with the guitar - such was the investment), told me that in time, I wouldn't sound like I was playing with pots and pans. And he was right! And one day I nailed the F Chord, (my fingers wouldn't collaborate for the first 3 months and the F chord was not something I could achieve), and I was so proud!

So the guitar bought me so much more than six strings in a wooden case. The guitar is a symbol for being able to afford myself the privilege of learning a new skill, without compromising on any of the necessities my family needs. It's me doing something for me; for fun. It's not an investment in anything other than pleasure. There is no ROI to be measured, no gains or losses to be calculated. There is simply the joy of strumming on an instrument and getting better at it everytime I invest some time. And mostly, knowing that with a little bit of luck, and hard work, this project will turn out ok too; cause I'm makin' plans...

3 days Post Ironman

13:58:41
It will be one of the most memorable experiences of my life.
Friday morning - Ironman - 48 hours
Morgen and I drive up to Lake Placid in the morning together. We stop in Platsburgh and then get my race packet at the Oval Stadium around noon. I learn then that there are 2 Valerie Tremblays in my age category from Quebec competing in the IM. How will people tell us apart? I hope she's really fast...
When I get weighed in, I realize that I weigh the same as I did in my thinnest days 8years ago, except that now its all muscle. I have never in my life been or looked this fit. I get my chips and tags and bags and all the rest of the necessities and leave the stadium labelled 2656.
Friday evening there is an Athlete's welcome dinner in a huge tent on the Horse Show grounds, only 5 minutes walking distance from the house. We all leave together: David and Christine, Max and Marie-Noelle, Alain and Nadine, Catherine, Morgen and I. That is the moment where I really start getting into the atmosphere of the event. The IM announcer (same voice for all competitions), the video...The experience of being in that tent with all of the athletes is very moving -one man lost 185lbs to compete here. His journey started with a doctor telling him and his wife that they were too fat to conceive - 2 yrs later he is half his original body weight, she is cheering him on, and they just found out she is pregnant (of course I cried). The 3 survivors from the April biking accident in Montreal that killed 3 cyclists and injured 3 are here....they are the Ford Every Day heroes. I cry during this part as well.
There is a 79 year old man (looks 50) doing his 18th IM. He is brought on stage with the youngest participant who turns eighteen the day before the race. And out of the 3000 athletes, over 900 first timers. The majority are Americans. In terms of participation rates, Canada is the second of the 27 countries represented. Two thirds of the participants are men, one third women. The biggest age category is 40-44.
Saturday
Saturday goes by fast with Laurent, Matis and my mother arriving in the early afternoon. The morning is dedicated to packing the 5 race bags and checking in the bike and the gear. Many mom's and dad's are here to cheer on their children; the house is full.
8pm bedtime on Saturday evening...but I can't sleep!
Sunday - Race day
When the alarm goes off at 4am, the first thing I notice is that I have slept on my left arm, and I feel pain - but the rest of my body feels ok. The week before the Ironman I felt tired, anxious, and painful body parts kept manifesting themselfves..David and Max advised that it was part of the taper process. Exercise withdrawl makes your body starts to do strange things.
After a group picture (Laurent will take over 400 photos on this day), we head to town. First stop is body marking - your number is branded onto your arms, legs, and your age marked on your right calf. Bike check follows - thank you Louis for being gracious and checking my tires - then a walk to drop off special needs bags and finally time to put on the wetsuit and meet the rest of the antilopes at our chosen meeting point.
The energy in the air is electrifying. We all walk together to the swim start, singing and laughing. I am grateful not to be doing this alone. The sky is gray, it will eventually rain, but for the time being the water is calm.
We head into the water, all 2700 of us, and prepare to start the race.
The gun blasts at 6h50 am for the Pro start. Fifty athletes take off and the rest of us tread water waiting for our gun to go off. I keep wondering how many people are peeing in their wet suits in this confined area and remind myself not to swallow any water...
Finally its time. The beginning of the swim is absolute chaos. Swim for your life - I get kicked in the face, my legs get grabbed and pulled down; I keep reminding myself that no one is doing this intentionally; its just too crowded. And about 5 minutes in my goggles start leaking. So I take them off and put them on my head, constantly reminding myself that the only thing I control is my attitude - and it better be positive because I am only doing this race once.
I end the first loop of the swim with a quick glance at the clock. 45 minutes!!!! Never have I been so slow. It must be because of the need to swim wide-the water is overcrowded. But I adjust my goggles tighter, and go back into the water for loop 2I manage to find the marking in the water and decide to follow it in order not to waste anymore time. I get slowed down by swimmers who are doing the same thing ahead of me. I calculate that I will be out of the water after 1.5 hours, and get discouraged because I had estimated one hour and twenty minutes. But I keep going, and actually enjoy the swim. I feel powerful and at ease in the water; its my preferred and best discipline. My arm doesn't hurt. My wetsuit is on properly. The goggles are no longer leaking. The sun comes out, blinding, and I am smiling and laughing in the lake. The end of the swim comes too fast. I run out and peek at the clock. 1 hour and 12 minutes! Impossible!!!! How did I go so fast on the second loop? This is my fastest swim ever, and I come out in the top 1000 rank (it turns out loop 1 still had the pro time of + 10 minutes on the clock; i swam in 35mins, not 45mins). I run to the bike transition, grab my bag, and say a prayer of gratitude when I realize that it contains everything I need. I change out of my wet clothes completely and proudly put on my antilope tri suit. Less than 10 minutes later I am off on the bike. It is raining slightly, but the wind hasn't yet picked up. I have done this bike loop ten times before, and I LOVE the first part. Its alot of downhill, and in some parts you go so fast that you reach the 67km per hour speed. I pray for no bike problems - my wish comes true. The wind is mild at the beginning of the race, and so my speed is steady at around 30km per hour. That's fast for me - I averaged 26 km per hour when I was training.
I get past the out and back, and start the 17 mile climb back into Placid. The wind has picked up, but I remember David's advice not to get up on my bike and save my legs during the first loop. I had estimated 9 hours for the bike. I finish the first loop in 3hours and 23 minutes! Arriving into town after the first loop feels euphoric. There is a large crowd, the rain has passed, and as I grab my special needs bag containing some chicken noodle soup (Thanks Renata for the reccommendation), I rush off to start loop two, saving the soup for a quick pit stop at the family and friend tent which is pitched close to the house about 5km into the course. A few minutes later I am greeted by Laurent, Matis, Morgen, my Mom, other friends and family... I drink the soup, marvel with Renata about my unbelievable times and current pace, get a kiss from Matis, and off I go again.
Loop 2 goes just as well as loop 1. I play cat and mouse with a girl named Pam. I really pay attention to the majestic beauty surrounding me. The forests, the trees... everything reminds me of Mino. The air smells like camp fire in some places - and although there is not alot of chatting on the course, there is a feeling of camaraderie in the air.
I stop for my first bathroom break after the out and back to Ausable forks and before the last climb. I lose 5 minutes, but its a good mental break to prepare for the hills ahead. I attack them with gusto; and although I know I have slowed my pace from the first loop, I am still resisting the urge to get up on my bike - Annick has given me the advice to hold off doing that if I could, as it would save my legs for the run. Its raining again when we get to the river near Whiteface mountain - but soon I am 160km into the bike and know I am almost done. And I haven't even been on the bike for 7 hours yet. I get a fun surprise right before I start climbing the last hill (we call it Papa Bear because it is a big hill with a bear statue at the top right after a smaller one called baby bear) - my odometer shows 175km, and I have been wrongly thinking for about an hour that I have 190km to ride - It finally dawns on me that its just 180km, and so I am done!
I ride back into the oval, thanking my lucky stars that I had no flat tires, no bike problems, and still feel relatively no pain. At this moment I realize that I have not given myself enough credit; I did train long and hard for this event, and I am more ready than I thought I was.
Mentally, I had always imagined I would get to the end of the swim and of the bike, and I had not wanted to think about how I was going to run a marathon after that. Now it was time to figure it out.
The second transition is quick; the volunteer helps me with my socks and with sunscreen - I decide not to change my clothes, and I head out of the tent. The first 4kms are downhill - Our coach is there cheering us on. I get to the family tent - Laurent tells me he has been posting my progress on Facebook all day (Thank you!), and I realize that the strategy David recommended (walk one mile, run one mile) may have been overly optimistic for me. I start walking - speed walking - It feels as fast as my slow jog, and its easier on my cardio.
I do alot of math - I know I finished the first 2 events in 8.5 hours, which leaves me 8.5 hours to run/walk a marathon, highly doable, so I realize that unless something goes dramatically wrong, I will be an IronWoman before midnight.
The run is two loops of fun. Fun because I can cross my friends a number of times during this discipline. I know Christiane is a few hundred meters ahead of me. I see David finishing the marathon as I am 5km into mine. I see Max, and Pat, and JP, and Korkut, and all of the antilopes who are totally nailing this race. I walk up all the hills and jog down all the hills. When I get into town after the first loop, I am blown away by the enthusiastic cheering of the very large crowd - Go Valerie, you can do it, way to go... It gives me wings.
I don't have a watch (forgot it on the bike), so I have no idea what my pace is, but I don't care. In a few hours, I will be an IronWoman. I am sure of it now.
I gossip and chitchat with Renata for miles onto River Road. I cross Morgen and Stella who are volunteering at Aid Station number 2 and how are dressed as Jungle Jane's (they are the only two who followed the instructions of dressing up for the station's jungle theme). And when I feel the slightest big of pain and discouragement, I think of Alysia. I think of all of the Alysia's in the world who are currently going through chemotherapy and radiation and in a painful fight to stay alive - and all I feel is gratitude and strenght and so very lucky to be exactly where I am right this moment. I don't stop. Not for a moment. Renata urges me to run. I share a few choice words with her once in a while when I don't feel like picking up the pace. Marie-Noelle passes me running at around mile 21. She is on fire!!!!
The climb into town comes too soon. Bob is a few hundred feet ahead of me. I pass him in the final 2 miles. I know the end is near. I know I am close to 14 hours, and I don't realize that the 14 hour mark hasn't passed until I get to the stadium entrance and the clock shows 13:57. The sun has set but its not dark yet. I don't know how many loops of the stadium I need to run to finish, but there is a chance I can beat 14 hours. I start sprinting. There are people everywhere - touching my arm, shouting encouragements. Music is blaring, and then, within seconds, the voice of IronMan booms through the loud speakers and boldly announces: Valerie Tremblay, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!!!
Most of the Antilopes have finished and are waiting there to greet me as I join in their success. I am Euphoric as someone places a heavy medal around my neck and offers me a finisher tshirt and cap. I walk to see my family, who are on the other side of the white barrier separating athletes from spectators. I can't eat; my stomach is queasy; but other than that I feel very little pain.
We head home after a little while; and every one trades race experiences. By eleven I am in bed, but have difficulty sleeping.

Monday morning at 7am I am up and wanting to pack up to go home. Its time to put this experience behind me. And Laurent is working this afternoon, so there is no time to waste. We stop by the Finisher's store on the way into town - I treat myself to a beautiful gold necklace with the IM logo - a souvenir from this journey which will always remind me of my power, my resilience, and my ability to accomplish anything I set my mind to. I trained hard and well for this event. I feel no pain. I could do another race shortly. But I won't. The training took its toll in a number of areas of my life, and I need to focus on mending this now. I am one of the lucky ones; one of the lucky few who get to live this experience. I cannot express my gratitude enough to the friends and family who have been so supportive and encouraging. I am blessed.

Below are the official race results:

Valerie Tremblay
BIB AGE STATE/COUNTRY PROFESSION
2656 39 VERDUN QC CAN Business Executive

SWIM BIKE RUN OVERALL RANK DIV.POS.
1:12:16 7:17:35 5:14:47 13:58:41 1852 72

LEG DISTANCE PACE RANK DIV.POS.
TOTAL SWIM 2.4 mi. (1:12:16) 1:54/100m 1023 36


BIKE SPLIT 1: 30 mi. 30 mi. (1:34:51) 18.98 mph
BIKE SPLIT 2: 56 mi. 26 mi. (1:55:22) 13.52 mph
BIKE SPLIT 3: 86 mi. 30 mi. (1:42:02) 17.64 mph
BIKE SPLIT 4: 112 mi. 26 mi. (2:05:20) 12.45 mph
TOTAL BIKE 112 mi. (7:17:35) 15.36 mph 1928 67


RUN SPLIT 1: 5.7 5.7 mi. (1:01:50) 10:50/mile
RUN SPLIT 2: 11.9 mi 6.2 mi. (1:20:04) 12:54/mile
RUN SPLIT 3: 26.2 mi 14.3 mi. (2:52:53) 12:05/mile
TOTAL RUN 26.2 mi. (5:14:47) 12:00/mile 1852 72

TRANSITION TIME
T1: SWIM-TO-BIKE 9:39
T2: BIKE-TO-RUN 4:24

Ironman - 2 days

Possibilities. They are what drive me. I have just realized this, now, at 5h20am on Friday morning as the sun slowly rises on my little corner of Nun's island, casting a beautiful pink light all around. I get up every morning because of possibilities. The possibility that today I will surpass myself. The possibility that I will learn something new. The possibility that I will some day again feel the energy and light of Paris. The possibility of new friendships. Of feeling loved. Of falling in love. The possibility that my kids will surprise me. The possibility of tenderness, affection, kindness and generosity. The possibility of feeling hope and excitement about the future.
At this exact time in 48 hours, I will be getting ready for the mental and physical challenge of a lifetime. For now I have a slight headache, I am gaging how my body feels every 5 minutes, and it doesn't feel really good at all. I am hoping its psychological. I want to feel great for the IM. My biorythm doesn't indicate that it will be the case (16%+ on the physical), but who cares. Its one day. One chance to give it all I have - and to try and make the last 6 months have some meaning in the grander scheme of things.
I have not figured out how I will run yet. But Renata will come and figure it out with me. And there she creates the possibility of bonding through a shared experience.
I have been surprised by many comments in the last few days. My masseur, Simon, who knows all about how extreme I am, has said that I go from being completely selfless to very self centered. I told him I was looking forward to becoming selfless again, once this goal had been achieved. I also told him I don't think I will ever be about balance. The possibility of feeling vibrant and alive in every cell of my body, even if it means sometimes feeling absolutely destroyed, makes the journey worthwhile for me - I admitted that I was scared that this was it - that there would not be any more big highs after this. His spontaneous belly laugh infirmed that the statement was idiotic: You are a magnet, he told me. You attract people, situations, experiences and opportunity.

Without that possibility, I feel like I simply go through the motions. He is right.

And to quote D. Hart: When a door closes, a window opens.

I know I will hurt on Sunday. I also know I will cross the finish line. Because doing that will create the possibility of turning the page and looking forward to the next window opening.

My boss wrote me the following: Whatever the outcome this weekend, I am thoroughly impressed by your preparation and taking this on generally.Undoubtedly you have faced lots of challenges along the way. It's your unwillingness to let excuses get in the way of you doing the things you want that amazes me. Again, whatever the outcome this weekend you will have done the incredible.


I will remember these words with gratitude as I ride my bike for 8 hours. He is right; I don't do excuses.

I have not worked out this week, save a swim on Tuesday morning. I wanted fill my batteries as much as possible. I have found that sleep has been difficult - and hence I don't feel well rested. I have eaten well though - no cravings for junk, just healthy foods and snacks. Works has been mad with activity - and its taken my mind off other more difficult emotions and situations on the personal front. But now its time to shut off my blackberry and turn off my iphone, to stop expecting encouragement that will not come, and be grateful for that which has.

I had many positive moments this week:

Two nights in a row, Anie spent hours talking my emotions through with me. Creating movies and possibilities, trying to make me look at things through a different light. It made me realize that the connection we had at 5, 13, 18, 22.... is still alive and kicking. We are connected forever, this I know for sure.

Laurent is trying the very best that he can to be supportive and helpful. We don't often agree on what that should look like, however I know his intentions are pure and I am grateful.

Morgen is back from Mino and still a really sweet and wholesome kid. I picked her up yesterday morning bright and early, and I cried as I walked through the woods and headed toward the Tournesols - its mindblowing how that place shaped me. Some of the most precious memories of my life were created there - they defined the woman I became and the values that I hold dear. Her experience was quite different than mine. Not as emotional. Then again, she is a very different person. I realized that my love of writing, of documenting everything, started at Mino. I realized that it is a truly magical place, filled with possibilities. And even if I am grown, whenever I walk there, I still feel the magic everywhere.

Matis missed me terribly this week. Hugging his tiny body is what brings me the most energy. He slept in my bed last night, and respected the rule not to try and touch biz in the night (the mole in my neck he views as his lifeline). He is my sunshine.

Some of my colleagues at work asked what was driving me to do this, and I think were insired by the answer. Its a very nice feeling to know that my actions can inspire others.

I have felt the positive energy of my girlfriends, even though I have invested less time and love that I would like in those friendships during the last six months. Chiquita, Yogi, MC, Gege, Nini, MJ, Vanou, Renata - Thank you.

That's the yang. And there is also the ying:

This week, a number of events reinforced my belief that the people you need the most often abandon you when you need them the most. The important men in my life, especially, have mastered this difficult skill. My dad when I was three, my stepfather who was not a stepfather, most boyfriends thereafter, and most recently CHR who is going through a horrible hell, and has no energy to keep his promise of friendship. I had a strong hope that my relationship with him would turn the tide - I felt open to believing that my mitote could change, and that I could create a different reality if I believed one was possible. Time will no doubt bring wisdom and learning from this experience. For now, the energy I invested in building this friendship has left me absolutely empty and drained.

What is important now is this: I forgive all of you. I forgive myself too for how I handled those relationships, and I am grateful for what they have thought me.

So, back to the IronMan, which is what this blog is about afterall.... Do I feel ready? No, I certainly did not train enough. Did I do the very best that I could? Absolutely. As a working mom, with a very full life, I invested as much as I could in training as often as I could. It changed my body. It changed my outlook on life. It helped shape me. Will I do my best? Certainly. Will I cross the finish line in under 17 hours? That remains to be seen. The fact is however, that I am already a winner. And although I have no idea what they are today, I am very excited about the next possibilities.

Ironman - 7 days

When I start a sentence, I don't have the certainty that I will be able to finish it - coherently. Its Sunday early evening, I am alone in the house in my pyjamas. Laurent is in a plane to Germany. Matis is in Quebec, Morgen is at Mino. Yolande is in Bonaire, MC and Virginie are at ChicChoc. Renata is biking in Gatineau, Ms Helen is at the Spa,I can't find my brother, the other athletes are in lake Placid, and Chris is still missing.
So I am all alone. Really alone. I want to go to bed, but I would like to go to bed smiling and happy. But my smile and happiness are nowhere to be found. I did a last bike ride with Marie-Noelle yesterday, one loop, it was fun not to do it alone. I swam and ran this morning, nothing too outrageous. But I am so down and depressed that I am panicked. What if my mood doesn't change before next week? What will I do to change it? Putting one foot in front of another is tough. I know that a few good nights of sleep will most likely fix the problem. I hope. But all I feel like doing is crying all the time. Have I . Where do I find the joy?
ARHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGHGHGH.
I don't know what I need. Actually I do know what I need, and I can't have it. So I have to throw it into the universe and wait for things to change. No additional amount of training will change the outcome of the race now - so I know I need to just sleep, hydrate, and relax. No amount of begging will make my good luck charms appear when i need them too. Do I really tell the people that I love how important they are in my life often enough? Am I there for them enough? I need to do something about that after the IM....

Ironman - 13 days

I have been wanting to go to sleep since 7pm. I manage a full day at work still, but my mental capacity is not what it was a few months ago. My emotional capacity is lacking as well - I have very limited patience with situations that aren't resolving themselves.
I had one last good training this weekend. My brother came up to Placid with me on Saturday and we went for a bike loop together. It was a fun and easy 75kms. On Sunday morning we did a 2km swim and a 12km run, and it was smooth sailing...but today is Monday, the day of rest, and I am tired.

I have let a bunch of not urgent, not important things fall through the cracks. Stuff like grooming - nails, hair, the works. No time for appointments.
I am also putting off major life decisions for a few weeks - I have been tempted to make a few irrevocable calls, but I am biting my tongue.
The preparation email for the IronMan was sent out today. Its too complex for my current brain capacity. I am waiting for the moment where i will start to feel excited. I did realize this weekend that i am more fit then i thought. I did five 90km bike loops and two 140km bike loops in preparation for this race, and the last ride was nothing like the first. My bike is broken, but apparently it will get fixed in time, which is great news. Truth be told I really panicked when I was told the carbon frame was broken, but Gilbert at the Sports Shop tells me that there is a solution...
Swimming is very easy now. I haven't pushed myself to run hard for quite some time, but I figure I will figure out what needs to happen on race day and just get it done.
What I miss most is the moral support I was getting a few months back. There is a big void there, and the timing of it is unfortunate. But its for a very valid reason. Such is life I guess. It would be worse not to continue at this point - it would be worse to decide to quit. And the Ironman is not about a finishing in a certain time for me - its about setting a very ambitious goal, and achieving it - the time it takes doesn't matter (as long as its within the 17 hours). Doing that brings a huge amount of self esteem. For me, it means knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that I can accomplish whatever I set my mind to - if I have control over the outcome that is. And if I don't, well I don't, and so then its best to just let it go.
They say there is nothing more to be done to build endurance for this race at this point - the important thing is a few good workouts this week - and then next week, a few short workouts in the different disciplines - 20-30 minutes max so your body remembers...
There are many things I would like my body and my mind to forget, and then again, this too shall pass.

Ironman - 45 days

I ran the Ottawa Marathon on May 31st, went to Paris on June 1st, and then started training at our beautiful Ranch in Lake Placid on June 4th. On June 12th, I went for my first long bike ride...It was gruelling. Insane hard.

I left the house at 11am. I did one loop in 3 hours, and as I started loop 2, I got a flat tire. I was drained, wet, cold. I waited 50 minutes for some help. I finally got some, and got a ride to the bike shop to buy more supplies. I wasted an hour and took off again.
I biked alone - and had way too much time to think. At times, when my body was fine, my mind would get discouraged. When my mind was ok, my body would start to ache. I was on the road until 7pm. I got two more flat tires after the first one - all on the back tire, which is a bitch to remove.
The second flat was the hardest - I tried to repair it on my own, and struggled. A good samaritan biked by 30 minutes later and helped. By this point i was discouraged, I stilll had half of the second loop to go, and its the toughest part. The third flat tire on the back wheel made me cry. I stopped on the side of the road, gave up, and waited. A girl named Lynn biked by about 40 minutes later. We tried to fix it together, and as we did, noticed that there was a huge staple in the tire which was causing the flats. I took it out, and got we managed to fix the bike. It took a long time though.. But just running into her made me happier - I stopped feeling alone and my good mood came back.
I still had 17 miles to go - The total for the day was 150kms. About 5 miles from home, I see three bulky men by the side of the road near a truck. I was so exhausted by that point that I thought to myself that if they tried to attack me, i had not an ounce of energy to fight back. But no, it was my three roommates, coming to see if I was ok.... I ended up taking them up on their offer for a ride back, and stopped my bike day at 138kms - short of my goal. I wanted to finish, but it was already 7pm and I had been gone now for more than 8 hours. I felt guilty for being away from the kids, and guilty for being late. The guys really congratulated me on my attitude, they said I looked really good out there. I got back to the ranch feeling ok, despite not finishing.

So that`s it - my day in a nutshell - A hard day physically on the bike, and mentally as well - which continued even after the bike.
I played catch with Morgen outside after dinner for a bit, and now everyone in the house has gone to bed - I will too.
I am sad though, I really don`t think I have the mental stamina to do an IM just yet.

Ironman-25 days

Tommorrow is Canada day - and it starts with a 4km swim at 6am. Walk in the park now... if only my spirit felt aligned with my body. In the last 75 days, I have followed about half of the required training program. I ran the Ottawa Marathon about a month ago - I didn't push myself too hard and finished in a respectable 4:18. I did a half ironman last weekend - I took it as a long workout, and finished in my fastest half ironman time ever of 6:22 (truth be told it was only my second, and the one last year was only 25 minutes slower...). I didn't enjoy the half ironman at all. I was disoriented in the water, went in the wrong direction.. The bike went ok, but felt very long. By the time I got to the run, which started with nothing but big hills, I felt like giving up. I kept going, but i don't know what kept me going. I finished and was glad to see my girl and boy with their daddy at the finish line... but I felt empty. The medal was crap. And I have lost the Ottawa medal, which was nice... I think I need some psychological support to get me primed for the big day, because nothing makes sense anymore. I have been training for this event for almost 2 years. I know I am not ready; at least not as ready as my ranch roommates in Lake Placid who plan their work free days around training... When I finished the half, I wondered if I would be able to make the bike cut off on the full. I still don't know if it will be possible.

I need some sort of inspiration to keep me going.

I feel guilty all the time - I can't focus at work, I don't feel like I am being a good parent, and to Laurent - I feel like the demands I have made to have time to train have been exagerated. My Tute is gone too... fighting the biggest fight of his life, and its a losing battle. The energy I got from there is no longer. And work is difficult - I am not focused, there is too much going on.

Laurent says to just laugh - this too shall pass. That we are all shooting stars in the Universe, here for just a moment, and that none of this really matters - But then nothing really matters at all. All I want now, is the secret to the magic potion - what will keep me going on race day? I feel completely lost.

Ironman - 100 days

Its been a while... Too long of a while since I last wrote. 78 days later it feels like my life has taken somewhat of a 150 degree turn.
Unplanned events. Like a major change in my world at work after three years of doing something I love. And on the personal front emotional roller coaster ride that caught me off guard. And then a job offer for a new company - one that couldn't be passed up.
Most people said that starting a new job in the midst of an ironman training wasn't a good idea. But I did it anyway. Priorities: Family, Job, Training....I adhere to the putting big rocks first in the aquarium philosophy. Its been a month now in the new job. I feel like I am learning to swim all over again... treading water very slowly, and not fast enough. I leave the office every day and i have to remind myself that it's normal. That its just a job...although i have already invested my heart and my brain and so much of my energy. My boss is a rock star. Inspiring. I know its going to go well. My intent is to succeed; the job posting had my name written on it.
Through the last 78 days since my last post, I have kept training... and I continue to hope I will finish the ironman. I swim 2 days a week now - roughly 7km in total. I have started biking again, although my distances are still too short. Running is going well! The highlight of my running season so far was running the half marathon in Madrid with my best friend. It was totally unexpected. We were in Madrid for a very short vacation, and found out that there was a race in the park on Sunday. We signed up last minute, got our numbers, and showed up in the park at 7am. It was a phenomenal and perfect experience. We searched and found pins to tie our bibs in a last minute panick, and found a creative way to get the timing chip in my zoot shoes...We lined up for the port-a-potties and managed to get in a few minutes before the race started. The sky was clear, not a cloud in sight. the air was crisp and the streets empty. Thirteen thousand runners formed a human wave which flowed through the downtown streets as far as the eye could see. We ran at a good pace... i felt as though I was flying. No pain, just a big silly grin plastered on my face and some playful bantering with my running buddy. I had brought the ipod and the running playlist, but there was no need for any extra motivation. And the run was a beautiful way to visit the magestic city of Madrid. What a change of pace from the normal run on the same course!
The course was both up and downhill... with a nice steep hill at kilometer 19 and then an ending in the park reminiscent of the NYC marathon ending.
It differed somewhat from North American runs in that there was only water for the runners at every 5km...no gatorade, or gel... and the finishers received a towel as memorabilia...with ONE banana to refuel. After a 21km on an almost empty stomach, I was longing for the bagels and drinks and the rest of the massive picnic normally handed out after a race at home!
I have great memories of that race... which was only 10 days ago but seems like way further back... since then I have gotten in about 2 one hour runs and a 3 hour run last Sunday... building up the endurance slowly but surely.
Most days I wake up and the pace of my life seems insane and unmanageable. But every day I just do the best that I can. The definition of that best differs from day to day - but I still give it my all. I worry too much about failing, especially at work - but it helps now to throw my fate into the universe. Not that I have no control over it, but it helps to worry less about what may go wrong.
Someone at work asked me why I was training for an Ironman... I thought about it for a few seconds and answered from my heart: Because I think I can do it. No one ever told me I couldn't.

Ironman - 178 days... and the power of Vitagrow

Hurt.
I haven't written in a while because it feels like most things in my life went to hell in a handbasket, and all this in a 10 day span.
Especially workouts. We did some chrono's a few weeks ago. I am actually slower than last year, across all disciplines. And then the tiredness. Ten minutes into warm-up and I am exhausted. Every stroke of the workout after that is a chore. My sciatic nerve injury is fixed, yet I can't run more than 10 minutes and then I feel totally drained. And there is no way to bike... we have two young guests from Toulouse staying in our loft - and even I am not cruel enough to wake them up at 5h30 am with a noisy indoor bike.
This too shall pass? Things get worse after that. A comment at work makes me question my value to the organization. A lover's spat degenerates in a major way. Two kids with a head full of lice - and a Sunday spent doing loads of laundry and painfully going through millions of hair strands. Not all is bad! There is some fun stuff....We did plan a ski day... and the day itself had a lovely temperature of -25 degrees celcius at the foot of the mountain.

Small irritants of life, no doubt... but they all piled up until it felt like the glass half full cup would runneth over.
And through it all, the only urge I have is to write. To write every hurt, every irritation, to acknowledge it so that it can take its space and then disappear.

Children are fragile. I am realizing this now, as an adult. I see all of the flaws I am left to reckon with because of irresponsible adults who crossed my path as a child. I finally realized this week where my drive to achieve came from... and its not from a good place. As a little girl, I thought that if did something good, which impressed the adults, then I would be loved. But hardly anything I did was ever good enough. I got the best grades; it went unacknowledged. I tried so hard! And I was told that I could have done better than I did; even when I tried my very best (as a reference, we're talking a 98% gpa in high school.. I fail to see why I needed to be compared to the 2% who did better. What's the point of that?)
The positive flipside of being an abused child is that if you survive it, if you choose not to be a victim, you become driven as an adult... to prove yourself, to validate your worth in the eyes of others. But the quest never ends, and it can be exhausting.

And this week, I feel broken as though I will never heal. I was pushed to the limits of my emotional maturity (which is most likely that of a fifteen year old- the year I left home). In a time of need, I reached out to a friend and expressed how important it was for me to feel loved, acknowledged, validated... and even though I clearly stated my needs (I never used to from fear of being rejected), I did not get the validation I so wanted.... And although that in of itself was painful, I did however learn a few truths about myself. When the pain subsides, I think I will be able to apply the learning from this experience to other things:

1) I am still capable of intense love (it wouldn't hurt this much if I was emotionally stunted!)
2) I can fast forward to the end of a story and see outcomes clearly before most people have started chapter 2. This means that I can analyze and foreshadow and once I have drawn conclusions, its hard for me not to get impatient that others haven't figured it out just as fast - and even though I may be wrong about the conclusion - once I have thought it, it's hard for my perception not to become reality. Its a catch 22.
3) So, sometimes even though I can clearly see the end of a story, its better not to push people to my conclusions and let them figure it out for themselves
4) I live intensely. Sometimes I get a good dose of Vitagrow (vital for me) from intense connections with other human beings. When the vitagrow gets taken away, I feel lost, empty, and lose my bearings. I need to learn once and for all to love myself so that I stop needing Vitagrow from others to feel alive. However that is easier said than done...If I loved myself would I put myself through an ironman training? Or am I doing this too, as a crazy way to feel acknowledged? So that somebody pats me on the back and says, Wow, you are special! You are the most special to me! And if I could finally learn to pat my own back, would I need to be doing this? All I know today is that even though I feel like curling up in a ball and crying instead of doing a work out, if I force myself to get started, I actually do feel better after it ends.
5) Rejection hurts. Its painful for someone to confirm to you that they don't indeed see you the way you thought they did. But there isn't much you can do about it, except find a way to internalize it, and when you are finally able to stop wanting to burst into tears every 10 seconds, grow from it, become stronger, let go of the pain, and move on.
6) What you focus on expands. The more you listen to sad songs, the more you focus on the hurt, the sadness, the what if's, the more you ache from loss. Working out is a good way to feel good about yourself and stop wallowing in self pity.
7) Sometimes when a point of no return is reached, trying to communicate makes the situation worse, not better. Better to retreat, and resume the conversation when it won't feel like the world will end if it doesn't get resolved.

No matter what hurt ails us, how dark we feel, how unable to breathe we become when our heart stops singing, the fact remains that when you have kids that need you, you put your needs aside, you get up, and you do what needs to get done. And you hope that when the sun next comes up, you feel a little bit better. And every day that you don't, you keep hoping for that to change, the next day. And you hope for the next source of Vitagrow to bless you someday soon.

Right now though, it doesn't feel like healing is anywhere around the corner. I have wondered the last few nights I went to sleep, if I would have the energy to get out of bed the next day. But I get up...because I have kids which I am responsible for. And because I hope that some day the Universe will send me the instruction manual for loving myself.
So I am throwing it out to the Universe. Please. With everything I throw out at you, throw me the instruction manual!!!

Ironman - 186 days

If I were to follow the program our coach sends out every Sunday night I would work out 15,92 hours per week. As things stand now, I only manage to do about 7. And I clock most of that time on the weekends. Saturday mornings are most fun - a 2 hour swim. Sunday this week was an hour run at mid day and an hour swim before dinner at 18h30.
I was tired for the swim... however I pushed myself hard. Abdenour, the Sunday evening coach, commented that my technique had gotten alot better. For the first time in about a year and a half, he had no for me to work on.
Yesterday morning we did a timed 200 meter chrono. I clocked 3:32 minutes. My brother keeps getting better. He clocked 3 minutes flush. For some reason, he is my secret benchmark - the unattainable now, but attainable someday - objective to beat.
So I worked out 4 hours on the weekend. And I was a lot less active during the week... Laurent was in Europe so I could not go swim. I did 2 short runs (30 minutes each), one weight training session, and maybe an hour on the bike.
Not enough... But still ok.
I find that my serotonin levels are high... I feel happy all the time. For instance: I keep looking at the glass half full. Work is going ok - however I feel that my days may be counted. Not for lack of performance; for lack of projects. I used to worry about what I would do next if I was at work, to borrow an expression from my British friends from ship days which means get my ass fired. I finally came to terms with that a few days ago, after fretting over it for about 3 years! If it were to happen, I would simply take six months off, and focus on trying to live off my hobbies. I would try to finish my certification to become an aerobics teacher. I would sign up with some training firms and offer my services as a freelancer, I would coach, and I would try and teach at University, and I would write and try to sell pieces to magazines. I have decided to stop worrying that I would make no money and could no longer feed my kids. That whole notion is preposterous, and it drags me down for no reason.
In the meantime, I have also decided to continue saving for a rainy day... and continue having fun in the meantime.
For instance, we are going to spend a few days in the sun for Spring break - taking the kids to Orlando for a few days... We are going the cheap way, but it will surely be memorable to wow the kids and just be warm and laugh and and play. I have also booked a ticket to Madrid. Madrid is one of the places that has enchanted me in fiction and in writing all of my life... and I have never yet had the privilege of going. I will spend 5 glorious days there at the beginning of April. So all in all, life is good right now.
I remember the days when I used to battle with depression. I couldn't snap myself out of dark moods. I would worry, get sad and upset, and had a hard time coping. Things have changed, and I am pretty convinced that my work out regimen is in large part responsible for the positive shift. For one, I have really integrated the Buddhist teaching of impermanence. The Dharma teaches equanimity... The state of being calm, stable and composed, especially under stress.
I manage to do this now because I remember that every mood, every situation, every thing is impermanent. My friend yogi simply says : this too shall pass. So when I am freezing cold, as I dive into the pool, I remember that this too shall pass. And a few minutes later I am warm. When its dark outside in January and my mood is low, I remember that in a few months I will be wearing flip flops outside and be able to feel the sun on my skin. The dark and the cold will transform to light and warmth. When an appliance breaks, like the car a few days ago, I remember that most of the time it works just fine. And when I pig out on peanut M&Ms two days in a row because I tell myself I deserve them, I remember that most days I can control my cravings just fine. And that my body is my temple. It just happens to like peanut M&Ms.

So all things being considered, my life is pretty close to perfect these days.

Ironman - 190 days

French fries. A mound of crisp, hot, salted french fries starring at me begging to be eaten. I actually went out and purchased them. I toned my craving from an extra large poutine to a small fry with salt and vinegar. It seemed a fitting end to an unbelievable shitty day.
I can put things in perspective: I am not dying, nor did anyone die or get hurt.
It was just one of those days where nothing unfolded as it should.
It started with a brief visit by Morgen to my bedroom (never happens) where she informed me she was feeling dizzy and under the weather. I sent her back to bed to get more sleep, emailed the school to inform of her absence, got up quickly, and started looking at my work calendar to see what I could reshuffle around and what meetings I could take from home.
While I was doing this, I let Matis watch an extra hour of TV. I took him to daycare late, and on the way, in the middle of a very busy street, the car just stopped. I pumped the gas pedal, and the spedometer went downwards steadily instead of upwards. And then it just stopped.
Now, I don't know much about cars. And when I don't know about something, it makes me feel helpless and vulnerable. But I had a five year old in the car, I was in the middle of a busy street, and I couldn't show that I was petrified because the city buses barely had enough room to squeeze past us. As I rushed to find a phone number to get help, I tried to make a game out of it with Matis. He had no idea what was going on...
Mom came to the rescue and took him to daycare for me. We were about 800 meters from his school when the car breakdown occured. But it was easier to have him go then to make him wait for the towing. I was on the phone with the 1-800 road sign assistance for about 20 minutes before they informed me that I wasn't covered for their service. I hung up a tad frustrated, and called the local garage station who gave me the phone number for a tow truck. Grateful, I waited. The tow truck gentlemen called about 20 minutes later to inform me that he had a few sets to finish at the gym which would take him 20 minutes, and another 30 minutes to get to me... so he should be there in an hour. I hung up. Last phone call to my standard and overpriced service team at the car dealership. They reccommended a towing service, and a yellow toothed man with a nice attitude picked me up 20 minutes later.
In the middle of all of this action are business meetings to be held.
An hour later, the service team at the car dealership tells me to go home, because they don't yet know what is wrong with the car or how to fix it, and because it's almost lunch time for them and they can't work through lunch so they won't know until later. I oblige.
As soon as I get home, I see the registered letter with a little red flag stuck in the door. I tear it open to find a cheque that I had written last November to pay some parking bills. Turns out the payment was made late, and a cheque was not an adequate way to pay because of the lateness of the payment. The letter goes on to say that I must present myself at municipal court to pay, and that until I do, my driver's license is suspended. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
The car dealership calls to say the gas pump needs to be changed ($1000), and that I will need to rent a car because they can't get to it for a little while. Renting a car isn't possible with an invalid driver's license.
I start to get mad. At Laurent mostly, for being out of town a second week in a row. Why does this always happen when I am alone? First stop: Municipal court to pay bills. I am not smiling. I am actually giving the clerk my best angry stare.
I am off to rent a car. The clerk is in training. He tells me neither of my credit cards are valid, and that he has to call the credit card companies to make some checks. My blood is boiling. But at least the driver's license shows as valid.
As I back home through rush hour traffic, it dawns on me that I haven't worked out today. Its now 4h30pm. I have graphology class at 6h30pm. And I need to pick up Matis and take him to mom's before I go to school. Barely enough time for a 5km run, but I try anyway... and manage to run 30 minutes. But I stop often, I am not concentrated, and my leg hurts.
I give myself points for trying, and hope that tommorrow will be a better day. But it doesn't stop me from consuming the French fries...because I have barely gotten any real work done and I figure I them to keep me going....

Ironman - 192 days

Its Monday night... and I am revelling in a day without work out.
We had a training camp last weekend. Three days of grueling workouts. It started on Friday night after work. A 2 hour session of cardio and strength building exercises. We finished at 8h30pm and went home to relax. The next morning, Saturday morning, we were in the pool from 9 to 11am. Great swim workout... Laurent has started to call me the urban mermaid. I love the name. We were back at the training camp at 3pm for a one hour running clinic, followed by a one hour bike class (spinning). Coach gives good advice... and tells me it looks as though my body weighs a ton when I try to carry it forward during a run. I tell him it feels like that to me too... that I don't feel like a feather dancing in the wind. I wish I did.
By the time Sunday morning rolled around, I was exhausted. I didn't hear the alarm, and dragged my body out of bed at 9am. The idea was to be at workout central by 9h30 for a time 10km run...I barely made it.
I did the run, came in second to last on the team. But I made it. And then we went into the water for an hour afterwards... It was a tough weekend.
Six or seven hours of work out though... and some of my Antilope colleagues doing the ironman are telling me its a bit too early to be putting in this much effort... I may burn out, or get really tired. I still haven't figured out how to eat for optimal energy. Every day I keep trying to get it right, but it feels like I am failing. I know I would be lighter, faster on my feet if I lost 10 pounds... and I can't seem to do that. Not even one!
Morgen is being thirteen... getting some poor grades and having some low self esteem issues. I am trying so hard to be present, to listen, to be there for her. Tonight she came to the conclusion that the reason she was worthless was because I let her fall down a flight of stairs on her head when she was nine months old and that this damaged her forever. I couldn't really escape the guilt trip that followed. Laurent is gone for the second work week in a row. I am trying to manage my time, and live with what isn't done... remind myself that the universe is unfolding exactly as it should. I asked Morgen to find three things that she loved about herself. She struggled. I kept throwing things out that I loved about her... and if I said it, she couldn't use it... she got frustrated; said she hated herself. She finally found three. It took a long time.
In the meantime, five year old Matis was shaking his head, repeating: Le monde est a nous, le monde est a nous (the world is ours for the taking). What five year old says that?

Ironman - 199 days

I am less anxious on weekends about getting my work outs done then I am during the week.

Sunday morning bliss. I have time to read a few pages of my the latest John Irving hardcover as I sip my coffee. I have time to build a playlist for my long run. I have time to play with my kids. Its -16 degrees celsius today. I am too much of a chicken to go running outside. Armed with my new playlist, I leisurely make my way to the gym and run for 60 minutes on the treadmill. I stop more often then I would like, even though the playlist is fun and upbeat. I run 9.7 kms and then head home quickly... I don't want to overdo it because there is a swim practice tonight as well.

I am the type of person who craves structure... and today is not a structured day. The typical routine chores need to be accomplished of course: food needs to be cooked, laundry done, and preparation for the week ahead. And there is a girlfriend who needs help rehearsing for a job interview. Other than that, nothing structured between noon and six.

L is going away for the week. Which means no swim workouts in the mornings; I can't leave the kids in the house for a 6am swim. As a Christmas present, and as a peace offering to compensate for his travels, L bought me a bike rack, so that I can at least get some workouts done at home while he is gone.

I am in a funny mood today...the plans have been put in place for all of this to work. It feels like I am very organized. All I have to do now is actually get it done... and hope no unplanned events modify the foundation, the plans, the structure.

I find it tempting sometimes to get into a whatif thought process: what if I lose my job? What if the kids get sick? What if I get injured? What if my relationship, so precariously balanced, topples over? This mood doesn't last very long; typically a moment and then I remember: wherever you are, be there. Nothing has happened now, in this moment, to screw up my existence. So top worrying about it and enjoy the weekend.

I have convinced L to take Matis swimming while I train with the antilopes. The pool where we train is actually quite elaborate; the left hand side is an indoor waterpark for families; the right hand side reserved for those who swim laps. Morgen wont be joining us; she is in her first year of high school and feels stressed with all of the homework. She has been in her pj's all day trying to compose a song for her music class. I am in awe, but I don't tell her. I forget that I must have been put through that kind of pressure as an adolescent too.

So the week will end with me on track for ironman glory. I will have had 3 swim practices for a total of 4.5 pool hours. Two runs, a long and a short, totalling 1.5 hours. And one 45 minute bike ride. That's close to 7 hours of work out time.. somewhere, somehow, I need to find 5 more. And I also need to remember that I am NOT training so hard that I can eat whatever I want. Its a mistake I sometimes make... I am not hungry, and I figure I need to eat alot because I am training. WRONG!!!!! I am burning about 600 calories a day more than my normal 1400 daily caloric intake. So a total of 2200 calories should be enough.

Ironman - 200 days

The way I see it, I have 200 days to accumulate points to get this ironman finished. 200 chances to invest in training and in resting and in eating well to realize the dream of crossing the finish line. Today is Saturday. My favorite work out day. In part because we start swim practice at 9am (weekday practices are at 6am), and the atmosphere at the pool is friendly and festive. There are always at least five of us in Lane 2, who follow each other with ease during the entire practice. Renata, my long black haired beautiful half ironman partner, was on fire this morning. She led the entire corridor through the 2 hour practice and kept us on pace.
I was in less than stellar form - most likely due to the slice of pecan pie and glass of red wine I had with Virginie and MC last night as I caught up with my MBA girlfriends on the last few weeks of our crazy lives. Virginie, MC and I graduated from an international MBA together back in 2002. Virginie lives a stone's throw away, and MC is in the city nearby. We typically aim to have a girls night about once a month. Yolande, Genevieve and MJ also join us... last night however was just us three MBA grads.
I got home around 11h30pm (too late), and then had a one hour conversation with my spouse L on a sensitive subject. L and I have been together for the last 8 years. We live in a beautiful neighbourhood five minutes from the city, and have a son together, Matis. L has a daughter from a previous relationship. We see her on the weekends. She is the .5 in my statement of I have 2.5 kids. My daughter Morgen is from a previous union with a Norwegian Captain. She is almost thirteen and lives with me full time. She sees her dad for a month every summer, and he typically joins us in Canada every christmas. Her dad and i were an item in my early twenties as I sailed the world on a cruise ship for five years and dained to call it work. Although the passion for the norwegian faded shortly after our daughter was born and we tried to invent a family in a secluded island in the north of Norway before deciding we were better parents far apart from each other, they talk almost every day.
My family is quite functional despite being sown together from different fabrics of life. All the adults tolerate each other. The kids sense no tension. The twelve year old girls actually became close over the years...even though they have very different passtimes and lives. Also in our family are our two year old abyssinian cats, Marcel and Nongo. They are brothers, and are patient and affectionate with our kids.
Its a busy life.
L travels for work very often. Work is also demanding on my end. Additionally, I try to run, bike or swim every day. I enjoy spending time with my kids. I am also very close to my sister and one of my brothers - the latter is also on the triathlon team. My friends are also very important to me. Anie and Chris are what my daughters would call my BFFs (best friends for live). I talk to them every single day. So my challenge right now is making it all fit. Making time for all of these people who each have a very important place in my life, providing for my family, taking care of my health, and getting the work outs in.


My triathlete team coach sends out a work out schedule every Sunday night for the upcoming week. Its pretty detailed, but in essence, the big picture looks like this:

Sunday : am :Long run pm: Swim

Monday: Off

Tuesday: am: Swim pm: Run

Wednesday: am: Weight training pm: bike

Thursday: am: Swim pm: Run

Friday: am: Weight training pm: bike

Saturday: am: Swim pm: run

Right now if I get one of the daily workouts in, I feel a tremendous sense of accomplishment. However I know that to be prepared for the ironman, I am going to need to work my way up to about 10 out of the potential 12 weekly workouts. I haven't figured out how yet, and its making me a bit anxious.

Ironman - 201 days

I met a God Doctor last night. Julie from the tri team had reccommended him. She swims in my lane, and is a very strong runner. I have been complaining of pain in my right leg and butt cheek (sciatic nerve I am told) for about 2 months now. It hurts when I walk. Its almost unbearable when I run. The good news is I wasn't feeling the pain in the water or on the bike, but the pain made me less prone to want to run. And I feel it every step I take. Its been going on for a few months; I tried to get rid of it by deep tissue massages 3x. The made it a bit more bearable temporarily. So I told Julie about it and she told me about a chiropractor/physiotherapist that uses a technique called ART (Active Release Technique) that has had favorable results with long distance triathletes.
I went to see him and he FIXED me! I still feel a slight pull, but the pain is completely gone. I got very excited so I decided to turn in at 9h30pm last night and get a good's night sleep so that I could wake up at 5h30 get try to cycle for an hour and a half before the day started.
I failed.
The alarm did ring at 5h30, and I hit the snooze button until 6am. At 6am, I actually reset it for 6h30am.... the time where I get up and make breakfast for the kids since the school bus picks my daughter up at 6h55 every morning.
So when I got up at 6h30, I was a bit disappointed in myself. I missed the first work out I had set my mind to, despite preparing and organizing myself to make it happen.
However all was not lost. After my first three sips of coffee, a lightbulb went on in my head. My leg was no longer hurting, so why not drop off my son at daycare, and hop over to the gym next door to run a 5km before taking off to work? A quick look at my watch and my work calendar makes me realize that this could indeed work.
I flew to the daycare, then hit the treadmill. I started off slowly; I wanted to be sure my leg wasn't going to start hurting again. Slow for me is a 10km per hour pace. Its slow. I ran at that pace for the first 15 minutes, and then started doing intervals (run fast for a short distance, than slower for the same distance) for the next 15 minutes. I ran 3miles (5kms) in 29minutes and 09 seconds. Not bad!
I am not a morning work out person. I get my highest energy peak in the late afternoon. But running in the morning has the wonderful effect of getting me energized and on a happy high for the rest of the day. I got to work 20 minutes behind schedule, but with 10 minutes to spare before my first meeting. And I managed to get a small workout in during the morning, so I don't have to worry about running out of time as the night falls and I realize there was just too much to do with the kids and around the house to make a work out fit into the schedule.
Life is good right now. Work is not crazy busy. The kids are not going through any sort of crisis, and Laurent is not traveling this week. This almost seem manageable!

Ironman - 202 days

The day didn't start well. I had a swimming practice this morning at 6am. I was up, but I didn't go to the practice. I have a long list of excuses: the business dinner last night which lasted too late, and during which I drank more than one glass of delicious red wine. The fight with my spouse when I got home - some crazy fight about French Poetry that was absolutely pointless. My five year old son Matis who crawled into my bed at 3am and woke me up from a deep sleep. The peeing of my son Matis at 5am who was sleeping so soundly that he did not realize he was in my bed rather than on the toilet. The lingering headache at 6am from the glasses of wine. The sciatic nerve in my right quadricep which has been bugging me for months.
I need to get up at 5h20 at the latest in order to have a coffee and a banana and drive to the aquadome where I swim every Tuesday and Thursday at 6am, and Saturday mornings at 9. Swim practice lasts 2 hours, but I stay only an hour during the weekday. If I stay any longer I am late for work. This morning I actually got up at 6am. I was already upset with myself for not being at the pool, but I figured I could salvage the situation by biking on my stationary bike for an hour instead. So I got up and tried to find my running shoes. Turns out that my teenage daughter Morgen had borrowed them for a day and forgot to return them as promised. I never found the shoes. I never got near the bike. I missed the workout.
I figure one missed day of being on schedule is notgoing to destroy my ironman dream. To make up for the lack of exercise, I have made an appointment to see a chiropractor/physiotherapist reccommended by a member of the triathlon club I train with. The club, called The Antilopes, has very many strong athletes who are in training for this competition and other shorter distances as well. I have been training with them for 2 years. I am one of the newer, and less skilled athletes. But they give me a bunch of emotional support, and the coaches are actually quite good. I have had an issue with my sciatic nerve since December. I feel a pain in my leg whenever I take a step. Its less painful when I swim and bike, but almost unbearable when I run. So to make up for no training, I figure I will try and figure out what's wrong with my body today in order to get it fixed so I can resume training tommorrow.

The Start of the Journey

Everybody has their own private mount Everest to climb. In my case, there has been more than a few; and most of them were not climbed by choice. In 2010 however, I consciously choosing to take on a big one: I am going to do an Ironman. Then I will get the tattoo and call myself an ironmom.

I am told its one of the toughest mental and physical challenges a person can take on. Picture yourself swimming 4000 meters (thats 160 laps of your average 25 meter pool). Then get out of the water, and bicycle for 180kms. At a fast pace of 25km per hour, you'll be sitting on the bike for over 7 hours. When that's done, then just run a marathon. Yes, I mean put on your running shoes and actually run for 42 kms. If you finish this in under 17 hours, you can call yourself an ironman.

This ironman is a grueling experience for many skilled athletes... and many manage to compete in one every year and prove to the world that they masters both in mental and physical stamina.

I am not a skilled athlete. I am a nearly 40 year old woman, with 2.5 children, a full time job, many interests outside of work, a boyfriend who travels to earn his living, and a few best friends I invest alot of time in. And I am going to do an ironman this year. Why? Well I am not crazy. I just want to prove a few things to myself. I want to prove that an average person can accomplish whatever they sent their mind to. I want to prove that being highly organized is absolutely essential in the world we live in - if we want to have it all. And I want to document how to do it... because I think its going to be feasible despite some of the obstacles I face. Lastly, there are a couple of demons I want to exorcise - a grueling physical regime is the best way I have found to do this.

Today is January 7th 2010. Its the start of the New Year. The Lake Placid Ironman is exactly 202 days away. I am armed with strong will, determination, a nutrition plan, a training plan, and a specific number of hours in each day. Today is the beginning of the journey.