All the Right Friends In All the Right Places

After thoughtful consideration, I feel the need to write an addendum to yesterday's post.
What kept me from "doing the deed" and "offing myself?" Because truly, I was in such a dark place I considered it. Countless numbers of times. So what prevented me and what got me through the mess besides a good doctor that finally figured out what was contributing to my emotional turmoil?
Friends and family.

All my life I've struggled with opening up about my past. Even now, I sit here typing with tears in my eyes as I think about it. Fortunately, I have the world's most understanding husband and he loves me regardless of my crazy ups and downs. He is my rock. He doesn't always know how to cope when I feel blue "for no reason" and just cry and cry and cry. He just holds me and tries to make me laugh with his goofiness and wit. Thank you, Paul, for not giving up on me.
My mom, of course, has become my best friend over the years. I gave her hell, but she hung in there with her unwavering love and put up with the bullshit. I don't always tell her everything because I don't want her to worry, but I know I can count on her to answer the phone and listen to my vents, my annoyances and on great days, my accomplishments.
My friends, JayGar and Leah, have also helped me get over the hump. They, too, have struggled with their own emotional demons. We are there for each other to pick each other up, to provide words of encouragement, to make each other smile. Sometimes the best medicine for ourselves is to help others. It's amazing the little endorphin boost one can get by performing one act of kindness a day.

I couldn't complete this little addendum without adding a note about my dear friend, Amy Becker. She's the one that got me into this mess of competitive triathlon. Talk about unconditional love of her friends. This woman is a saint. Not only does she work a full time job as an oncology physician assistant where she cares for patients battling all forms of cancer on a daily basis, she is an incredible mom to two of my most favorite girls in the world. In addition to her duties as working mom, she is a world class triathlete, somehow finding time in her busy life to be an Ironman. Every single Ironman she has raced she has qualified for Kona. That's a big deal. She somehow finds enough time and energy to devote herself 110% to all aspects of her life and still have enough left over for her friends. During my depression, she was always there for me. I would cry over coffee talks with her and she always had the right words to say to comfort me. When I couldn't handle life anymore, she was the one who recommended I look for outside help. I can't thank you enough, Becker, for being my friend through thick and thin and for being my role model and mentor. In the words of one man, "Do your best to keep up with Becker." I can only try.
Having a solid support system has been integral in my life. It's taken me a while to tear down the walls that I've built up over the years and having outside sources I can rely on has been critical in the demolition process. Without the supporting walls, I am just space. Thank you to everyone who has ever demonstrated kindness to me over the years. :-)

Filling in the Blanks

Well, I suppose I'm slightly overdue for another blog post - like almost 2 years! Truly, writing is therapeutic, so even if no one reads this, at least I get to hash things out on "paper".
As I re-read my "virgin" post, I can help but be amazed at what I've been through and where I've come over the last year and a half. Once again, life and triathlon - the two intertwined- have brought their little ups and downs and steamrolled me into a heaping mess. But I'm picking up the pieces and filling in the void with happiness. Or at least damn well trying to.
2014 started off great. I had a new coach, Wendy Mader (www.t2coaching.com), who seemed to really understand my needs as an athlete but also a human being. I'm highly sensitive and emotional and am a slave to my own female hormones. She understood that my goal for the year was to qualify once again for 70.3 Worlds. We launched right in, I was running long runs in February, more than the "slow and steady" or "hurry slowly" than I was previously used to and I was in the groove.
In March I'd finally received my much awaited and overdue Stages crankset and powermeter. Within a week of installing the shorter crank length (and conversely raising my saddle height to accommodate) I tweaked my hamstring pretty badly. Despite my injury, within days I ran a 7.77k race for St. Patrick's Day and placed second in my age group.

Besides the hamstring injury, I was feeling ridiculously cold ALL THE TIME! Like if I ran 4 miles at the track in 40 degree weather, even with full deep winter weather running gear donned, I almost got frostbite. I started to feel tired more frequently. Must be a case of Seasonal Affective Disorder.
In late March, my friend Amy Becker and I traveled to St. George for a training get away to prep me for my race in May. What a beautiful place!

Snow Canyon was no joke as is the running course. The nerves started acting up. Could I even complete this? This 70.3 was going to kill me! By that Sunday I had given the "camp" everything I'd had. I was done. The following weeks were pretty tough. It almost seemed like I started to snowball out of control emotionally. I didn't want to train anymore. My husband and I took a road trip to Arizona and I did absolutely no training whatsoever. It was a great trip but yet I felt tanked.

By April I was trying to get back to training knowing that I had St. George coming up, but I had already done the damage psychologically. I'd mentally mind screwed myself that the course was going to kill me. Little did I know that this anxiety and emotional turmoil was seated in another issue.
As days went by, I went further and further into a very dark place. Not because I was anxious about my upcoming race. I was stressed. I couldn't seem to balance a part time job, training at any kind of intensity, maintaining my household and my marriage. Thoughts of ending it all crossed my mind countless numbers of times. It was bad. So bad that I quite my job working for the best boss and chiropractor ever so that I could figure out what was going on. I even considered checking myself into a mental health rehabilitation center.
In May, I completed 70.3 St. George. I went into the race actually in a pretty good mindset. I tried to just have fun. I walked a LOT of the run course. It's no joke, that course! Somehow I managed to finish 8th in my AG. Finishing the hot day laying in the fountains of downtown St. George, Utah is an amazing experience and entirely worth the pain.

 

Meanwhile, back in Colorado I'd seen my doctor (a ton) and pretty much cried every visit. I was an emotional mess. He decided to check my TSH (thyroid) levels and noticed after a series of bloodwork that the levels were increasing, meaning I was slowly acquiring hypothyroid - finally an answer to my craziness, chronic fatigue and depression!

In June I raced Kansas 70.3. I was out of the water in 6th (what??!!) and was first in my age group off the bike. Yay! I was still elated even though I was passed on the run and ended up finishing in 2nd place. My first 70.3 podium! Leading up to that race I was 100 percent positive I did not want to take my slot to Worlds. I'd already cancelled Racine 70.3. I was done. Somehow, though, I was convinced by Amy to take it and go. I caved and signed up.

Training continued, I was still feeling blah, but it was summer so Vitamin D levels were probably helping out a bit. On July 4th, my husband and I and our beloved cat set out on a road trip to see my parents in Wyoming - a 6 hour drive away. Half way there, Shades the Cat started to get very anxious about being in the car and suddenly cried out and collapsed in my arms. I tried to give him CPR any way that I knew how, but he ended up dying in my arms. He was my baby and it still brings tears to my eyes to think about it.
Everything shattered. I know he was "just a cat" but to me he was a family member yanked out of my life so very unexpectedly. I felt horrible guilt. I should have just left him home. I was so cheap to not hire a pet nanny. Crying became my new favorite past time. I cut off contact with my friends, tried to get counseling. Nothing was filling in the void.

In August we adopted a bonded pair of cats whom we named Puddles and Chubbers. They were cute, but they weren't Shades, though they would become new snuggle bears. I just needed a fur baby to love on. Meanwhile, my doctor was still not happy with the TSH levels so he upped my dosage of thyroid hormone replacement.
Knowing that I had registered and already forked out the money for 70.3 Worlds in Mont Tremblant, Canada, I struggled to return to semi-fitness. I pretty much had done nothing all of July, mourning for my lost one. The hamstring niggle returned. I could not run more than 8 miles before my hamstring felt like it was going to tear. I was also having horrible sciatica pain shooting from my low back down the back of my right leg that left me awake at night.
As a venue, the World Championship in Canada was spectacular. The scenery was absolutely stunning and the events leading up to the race were memorable. The best memory I have is riding the gondola through the village listening to a U2 cover band belt out Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For, followed by a dramatic fireworks display. Awesome!

On race day, I woke up at 4, ate breakfast at 5 in order to leave by 5:30am so my housemates could get to transition by 6. My wave did not start until almost 9am. I PR'd my swim (yay me!) but my usual powerhouse on the bike faltered on the intense hilly course and lack of fuel and fitness and a niggling injury that wouldn't go away left me off the bike in the same place where I'd started. No gains. I knew going into the run that it was going to be a struggle. I was definitely not in the "zone". Every hill felt like my leg was going to rip in two. Still I just put one foot in front of the other. I suffered an anxiety attack midway and almost pulled out because I could not breath. My throat was closing. What was I doing? This isn't fun! I should have trusted my gut and not taken the slot in Kansas. The mental demons were again doing their damage.
I crossed the finish line nonetheless, with a cartwheel to boot (though I almost fell off the platform) and immediately started balling my head off in absolute disappointment. I'd finished 86th out of 117 in my division. It was the worst performance of my triathlon career and I couldn't help but think it was going to be my last.
Fortunately, as time will tell, I couldn't give up the sport that had become to define a piece of me. But I'll save you that one for another night's worth of sleepy bedtime reading. Thanks for enduring a full year's worth of my life crammed into one long blog!

 

Taking the Leap

 

Leaping the Moeraki Boulders, New Zealand

Greetings and Sun Salutations!
No, I'm not a Yogi. I'm a self-professed triathlon junkie. Well, at least today I am. I have a love/hate relationship with the sport. I'm sure I'm not alone with that one. Regardless, I've gone from a super short track distance runner to completing three Ironman 70.3 races in 2013.

Let me tell you a little about myself and how triathlon has become part of my life....

First and foremost, I've never blogged before doing so is pretty scary for me. I'm not one to "put myself out there" and tend to stay pretty private. So starting this blog, whether anyone actually reads it or not, is taking a leap of courage for me. So now that part's off the table I can tell you how I got into the "tri way".

Long ago in 2002,  I met a guy in Tennessee who had raced the Memphis in May Olympic distance triathlon and was planning on doing it again in 2003. Sounded like a fun challenge, so I decided to train for it, though I held off on registering for the race. I had never swum more than a lap in the pool. My strength in running was the 100m sprint- I'd be out of breath in more than 200m! I did love to ride my bike and especially enjoyed riding around my hometown of Sheridan, Wyo. at 2 a.m. any given summer's eve in high school. So how hard could it be to put all three together? Especially a race combined of a 1500m open water swim, 24.8 mile bike ride, and 6.2 mile run? Ha! I surely must have drunk the crazy kool-aid to think it was possible!

Needless to say, I started training at the YMCA pool in Jackson, Tenn. Swimming was hard!! I couldn't swim more than a length without gasping for breath! But with practice, it started to come and soon I was swimming longer without needing to stop. My run training consisted of 30-45 minute runs on the treadmill or around town in Brownsville where I lived. My hybrid bike remained untouched on the back porch. Well, the triathlon never did happen. I moved back to Wyoming in February and the Memphis in May challenge was forgotten.

Super Sherpa Husband, Paul

Fast forward to 2010. My husband and super Sherpa, Paul, and I relocated from Colorado Springs to Thornton, Colo. and joined "The Taj Mahal" of gyms, Lifetime Fitness. I had stayed pretty active throughout life, though I'd gained 15 lbs when I moved to Colorado Springs in 2005. Any who, I saw that Lifetime was offering an indoor triathlon so I signed up. I took a few master swim classes since I hadn't swum any laps in a pool since 2002, (now that I think of it, that's crazy! I pretty much started over!) and on April 11th finished my first triathlon. How exhilarating!! It was then that I became hooked! I bought a road bike and completed 3 all-women sprint distance tris that summer. In 2011, I signed up for the same 3, PR'd my times and even earned podium finishes in 2 of the 3 events!! I also completed my first half marathon. Not bad for someone who previously struggled to run just 1 mile!!

In 2012, I decided it was time to try a longer, co-ed distance and completed 4 Olympic distance tris, a sprint and a half marathon. This was getting serious! Paul and I decided (after a some persuasion from my stud triathlete friend, Amy) that I should hire a coach if I was going to get any better at my new found sport-love. In January of 2013, I joined the "Wolf Pack" led by professional triathlete, Dan McIntosh, and got my first true taste of serious butt-kicking training. Throughout the season I had highs (placing 3rd AG at the Steamboat Olympic Tri and 5th at the Boulder 70.3 earning me a slot to the 70.3 World Championships in Vegas) and lows (burning out and feeling my coach had sabotaged me before Worlds leading to a embarrassing finish in a championship race).

Me and former Wolf Pack teammate and friend, JGar

Despite the ups and downs, I must remember that the roller coaster of emotions is what makes triathlon so fun and challenging - it is trial of the mind, and my greatest opponent. Having struggled with depression, self doubt and a lack of self confidence most of my life, triathlon has given me the means of dealing with the negativity. I'm not saying I've mastered control over the self-deprecating thoughts that go through my head, but I'm learning to deal with it every time I go out for a swim, bike or run. The saying "mind over matter" is so frustratingly true!

2014 is a new chapter with lofty goals and changes in store. I've hired T2 coaching's Wendy Mader (t2coaching.com) to guide and push me with my training, especially with my stubborn swim skills. My race season kicks off with the Horsetooth Half Marathon in April, St. George 70.3 in May, Kansas 70.3 and Loveland Lake to Lake Olympic Triathlon in June, Racine 70.3 in July and hopefully 70.3 Worlds again in Mont Tremblant, Canada. I have my work cut out for me, that's for sure. My swim needs A LOT of improvement. I'd like to PR my run time (my fastest half marathon to date) in Kansas and I'm excited to start training with my new Stages power meter in February so I can keep up with Amy and my competitor, Betsy M, on the bike. But thanks to a great support system of an incredibly loving spouse, unconditional friendships, a stellar boss and a coach who knows when to push and when to just let me do my "thang," I'm confident I will have the best season yet. And who knows? Maybe a full iron distance triathlon race is in my near future. That, folks, will be my next big leap.

No bike workout is complete without crazy socks (courtesy JGar)