Signing Up

Signing Up

I wish I could tell you I have some tremendous story…like I dreamed of this when I was a little girl…or that I have some epic narrative as the reason I signed up for doing an IronMan…but I can’t. Throughout the year, many people have asked me why I signed up for this insane race, IronMan. So, this is why I’m writing about it. Sorry, you won’t tear up and maybe you’ll even forget this entry, but here’s why and how I signed up.

Two years ago I met Dave Seevers. Actually, I hadn’t met him yet. I read an email at work that he had written. He had just completed an IronMan race in Florida for his first time and he wrote an email that viraled around our workplace which described his heroic adventure on race day. Tears came to my eyes as inspiration overwhelmed me- the sheer magnitude of this accomplishment was something I had never even dreamed of, nor saw myself ever doing. I mean, I was a marathoner, a runner…I never rode one of those scary, skinny bikes... and besides, my 5 year old niece and nephew could both swim farther and faster than me. I wish I could tell you what that email said, but I can’t remember it. I just remember trying to wrap my mind around the fact that this man had swam 2.4 miles, rode 112 on his bike, and then ran a full 26.2 mile marathon and then wrote an email high as a kite to top it off-impossible. I’d never even heard of this race. I had to meet this guy….and I worked in the same building!!! I’m not gonna lie; I considered this dude to be kind of a celebrity. I don’t know if ‘normal’ people would have read that email and automatically decided the athlete was some sort of famous person, but I thought anyone who could do that had to have some sort of high level above a my entry level racing society.

Sure enough, a few weeks later, he happened to be running on the treadmill next to me at our work gym. Being the shy gal I am, I said something like, “are you Dave Seevers, the guy who just completed an IronMan?” Indeed, he was and he even talked to me!!! He wasn’t arrogant and didn’t ‘act’ famous at all. He seemed so normal, so capable, just like you and me.…and he told me his story. I interrupted him constantly with questions: how did you eat? How did you go to the bathroom? How long did it take you? Did it hurt? Did you cry? What did you see? Why did you do it? Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! I couldn’t get enough. I fed off these stories. In the back of my mind, this Dave Seevers had planted a seed. I had do one. I didn’t know when or when or how…and I didn’t have the audacity to declare it out loud, but one day, I would do one…..(hmmmm…First I would have to learn how to swim... )Then, he told me his wife’s story…and I about fell off the treadmill…she had finished 4!!!! Remarkable…simply remarkable was all I could think.

Time passed and I continued to run…because that’s what I did. I ran. I ran and ran and ran and ran. A full year went by.

My husband and I don’t have cable. In fact we only recently got a flat screen over Christmas. I detest TV- its like burning daylight. Anyway, we do get one channel fairly clearly, when its clear, and that channel is Universal Sports. I tell you what, I watched the IronMan documentaries that Winter over and over and over. Every time I sat down, which wasn’t often, one of those bad boys was on. Every time I watched, I cried. People missing limbs and folks with cancer were completing these things. Then, I started meeting people… I met the local Omaha woman who is famous around here for holding several Kona World records—she’s in her 50s or 60s! She did these things. I met Jodi, Dave’s wife, in person! And I actually got to swim with her…she gave me some tips. I discovered that one of my runner friends, Bill Weeks , who was an animal on the bike, was training for an IronMan. I just kept meeting people who had done them...I felt like I kept seeing little signs that directed me to sign up.

Then, Omaha finally decided to put on its first triathlon. That was one year ago. So my hubs and I bought bikes, trained up and did the Papillion sprint, then Omaha’s tri. Then, Michelle and I thought we’d try Pigman- a half distance (I wrote about that experience J)

Then, we blindly figured that a whole was manageable if we were capable of completing a half. Sometimes its better if you don’t overthink things and just do it.

So Dave, my sister, and I began to email, plot, and plan. Were we gonna do this? Which one? How? We decided on Madison because we could drive, its close enough for friends and family to come and close enough to volunteer. See, at Madison if you volunteer, you secure your spot 100%, otherwise if you sign up online, you risk not making it…these races fill up in like 30 minutes online.

Somehow I managed to encourage one of my girlfriend’s (Gina Beena) to do this with me, but she was going to roll the dice and sign up online. I didn’t want to risk it so I hopped on the volunteer-train. I figured as long as I wasn’t alone, I could do it. My sister Michelle was onboard originally, but faced some injuries so she put her greenlight on hold for the time being. Also, Dave and Jodi decided to signup for IronMan Canada, but would be training alongside us for the year. I figured I was safe with these two veterans training by my side.

Dave, Jodi, Javi, and I drove to Madison about this time last year. We volunteered. I got to see what the race was like…it electrified me…in a good way I mean. I volunteered in T2. Now keep in mind, this is the changing area when the women get off their bikes after riding over 100 miles and put sneakers on to go face the run. My volunteering- in a period of 4 hours, helping these women prepare for battle, was life changing.

If you don’t have a goal right now. GET ONE. Get a piece of paper and write one down. I don’t care if you make a decision to walk once a week or sign up for sprint tri or something or sign up for an IronMan….but get a goal. I say this because the women that do IronMan are just like you and they are just like me. But they have a clear, defined goal that’s driving them forward-giving them purpose- and changing their lives. If some of these 200+ pound women, 75 year old + women, cancer laden, amputees and even dreadful teeny boppers can do this incredible feat- you and me can make a goal and get there. After experiencing this day, there simply are no excuses.

The women would rush into the changing area blurry-eyed, fatigued, unable to speak articulately. One of the first things to go are your fine motor skills, so they couldn’t undo Band-Aids or untie shoes. I can’t tell you how many pairs of bike shoes I took off that day and how many pairs of stinky socks I pulled off, but I can tell you I didn’t care. I didn’t care about the putrid smells wafting about: the sweat, urine, vomit, icy hot, sun screen, peanut butter entrenching these exhausted women…I didn’t care because they had a goal and they were reaching it. I even massaged a lady’s foot trying to rub a cramp out. I just kept thinking, if it was the other way around, I would want the help. Ohh, the stories I heard. One lady had stupidly- sorry, but she was stupid- drank only one bottle of water during the entire ride…she was puking up green bile.—very dangerous.

Now keep in mind, when you’re in a state of complete exhaustion, your emotions become highly, highly sensitive. One lady I was helping was putting on her hat and on the brim, face down, was a picture of her father. He had died shortly before the race. She began telling me all about him and what a good man he was to her and how he did races with her. She was dedicating this race, this day, to him. She began to cry, but tears of pure joy at the fact that she was actually accomplishing what she had set out to do- a goal-all in her father’s name. She told me how she knew he was watching and racing with her. Off she went: energized and ready to take on the 26.2 miles of road before her, energized with tears in her eyes, but with her father ‘by her side.’

These are the stories that come out of IronMan. People are remarkable, and I truly believe, capable of doing just about anything. Seeing people cross the finishline, kiss the ground, hug one another….fall over, and do cartwheels in jubilation all in the name of reaching a goal, completing something, committing to something, brings me a sense of drive so deep, its hard to explain- a sense of pleasure- a sense of peace. When you push beyond the limits, you enter a very thin space between somewhere here and somewhere else. All of these precious finishers had set out to complete a goal and successfully hit the mark.

The next morning, with my famous shepherds-mentors Dave and Jodi and my number one support, my husband, by my side, I took my place in line for the next 5 hours and waited to sign up. And then I did it; paid, signed up. For the next year, I would train to face the challenge of my lifetime. I signed up for IronMan.

Wanna know the coolest thing? I wasn’t alone. The day prior I had texted Bob, my brother- aka one of The Siblings, a picture of the bike transition along with some other cool race pics. I sent him a text message, off-handedly suggesting he signup online. Turns out, my brother Bob signed up online that day as well!!! Funny how it took me a couple of years to get my act together and my courage up to sign up…it took him a single text message... what nerve!!! A few days later, on a charity ticket my sister did too-rolling her dice on her injuries…turns out The Siblings would conquer this thing together. My girlfriend got in online and so did one of her buddy’s whom I didn’t know at the time, but now, through training is a very close friend-Michelle B!!!…training tends to do that- bring people together).

Wrapping this “sign-up” experience up….I’ll end with a brief piece that I wrote during our IronMan kick-off training party…

Here’s what I originally put on paper for the reasons I signed up…kind of rambling jibberish I think:

Why I’m Doing an IronMan

Because I can.

Because I am whole

Whole in God.

He gave me the Power

Motivation

Determination

And

I get to lean on Him the entire time…

I want to do this before I have babies. I used to cry from amazement or inspiration as I watched the documentaries on TV and I thought I could never do one of these races…

Then, I did a little tri…and then I did a longer tri….and then I did a half Iron and I thought, this wasn’t too bad…

Then, I knew I could do it.

And the training.. I knew would be fun…the people I train with-they are family.

Never pictured myself an athlete.

And Here I go…

Eat When You're Hungry, Stop When You're Full

Why do you eat? No really, why do you eat? We eat because the food is there, because it looks good, smells good, tastes good...we eat because the TV's on...because we're alone, because we're sad, because we're happy, because we're celebrating!!! We eat because it's raining, because it's cold or hot. We eat to fill up. We eat because we're bored. We eat because someone else is eating. We eat because its polite. We eat to run away. We eat to forget. We eat because it feels good...and then because it feels bad. We eat at work and we eat to reward ourselves. We eat and eat and eat and eat. Do we ever fill up?

What about eating because we're hungry?

I'm writing about eating because I think we have issues. I know I do. But if there's one thing I've become free from over the years, its food. Yes, I did just say that... free from food. Why do I say it like that? I guess because I hear the conversations every day all over the place...people obsessing about what they eat and how much they eat. I think its great to have healthy conversation about nutritious foods, but its when food takes over people's thinking and they become a slave to it- that's what worries me.

What if we only ate when we were hungry? What if we waited to eat, not because it was 'time' to eat, but because we actually felt an ache in our stomachs? And then, what if we only ate until we were (politely) full? "Politely" does not mean we're moaning in pain, paralyzed and unbuttoning our pants because we've gorged ourselves. Politely means we're satisfied...just enough...to the point that we're not hungry anymore.

Sounds simple, huh...but I know... real life is harder. And that's why I'm writing this. I just don't want us all going through life without ever thinking things through. Just stop for a few minutes and really think about your eating habits. Do you eat because its habit? Mindless eating? Or do you eat because you're hungry? Ask yourself why. Do you eat when you're anxious or nervous? What are you anxious about? Do you eat because you're bored? Why are you bored? Do you eat because you're sad and you're trying to fill up? A friend of mine about knocked me over when she told me that she sometimes eats to procrastinate. I've totally done that before...I remember in college raiding the fridge before I had major research papers to write.

I think we eat too much and too much of the wrong crap. I think we overeat for lots of reasons but I would argue that one big, fat reason has to do with self-worth. What's going on with your self-worth? Do you value yourself enough to take care of yourself? Do you treat that beautiful body of yours as a temple? I'm being serious here. Was there something in your past that happened that damaged your self-worth and are you medicating now with emotional eating? Deep questions...but have the courage to ask them.

We try and control the intake one of three ways: we beat ourselves up (shaming ourselves), we pump up our self-will, or we eat because we physically have to. Often we have the attitude that if we're in a low place, we might as well give in to whatever we're at odds with and be low because that's who we feel we are. Sad. Its like the hungover alcoholic that says, I've drank so much and feel so worthless so what's the point in stopping now?

This quote by author Alan Wright addresses this mindset beautifully, "The way that we resist temptation is neither through harnessing shame nor through pumping up self-will. The way to avoid sin is to become so secure that we will not need the sin and, for that reason, the thought of sin becomes utterly inconsistent with our self-image."

Alright, I guess I've gone way deeper than addressing just eating issues here. Maybe, I meant to do that.

I guess what I'm seeing here is that maybe it's all about self worth. Do I value me? Does what I do show that I value me? I can remember coming home from Jr. High and stuffing copious amounts of Swiss Cake Rolls and strawberry cakes down my mouth. I now cringe at the memory. It's simply not me anymore. My self-worth is so much greater. I care about what goes into me. I care about me. I've come a long way baby. I'm free from the grips of food.

I feel like there's a lot more of this left on the table, but what I might leave you with is two things. Stop and ask yourself what's behind the eating? If you're good to go...great... if not, ask what's going on with your self-worth and where did it go wrong?

And the small piece of advice to live by...to eat by... is eat when you're hungry, stop when you're full.

This concept of eating when you're hungry and stopping when you're full comes from a program I completed over 10 years ago called WeighDown. Its certainly not rocket-science but I wanted to give credit where credit was due.

Pigman

As I looked out over the distance of the lake, the rocks in my throat plummeted to the bottom of my belly. My knees went weak, a heavy feeling overwhelmed me... "No, that can't be right," I whispered. Then, aloud, "No, there's been some kind of mistake." ----for I was looking out over the distance of the swim for the 70.3 triathlon I would tackle the next morning. My sister, husband, and a few other athletes, who were also taking a sneak peak at the course, soon agreed. I was comforted by their similar apprehensions. Looking at the large orange buoys spread throughout the lake, I swear the swim coarse stretched at least three miles. How in hell was I going to swim this distance? ...a quiet panic struck me, and I covered it up by nervous chatter, trying to occupy my mind by introducing myself to the athletes nearby. One guy who was there was intending to use Pigman as a training day for his upcoming Iron Man in Wisconsin. He told us he'd been spending his Saturdays practicing 3-mile swims.... Somehow, I wasn't comforted by this...After several friendly debates, swift calculations, and the comparison my husband made to driving a golf ball across the lake, we determined that the race directors did indeed know what they were doing and the course was most likely 1.2 miles. Hmmmm…I still left with my doubts.

The night before the race was spent laughing with friends over pasta dinner, exchanging war stories of the various races we'd done. Sitting around listening to the different race feats one another had faced was the perfect recipe to get me pumped for the next day. Call me weird, but I was seriously giddy: my voice high and squeaky, my blood racing, and my hyper personality shifted into turbo-charge! Woo hooo!!!!

---- Back at the hotel, preparations took place-- the taping of power gels on bikes, outfits laid out, gooey power bars placed in pockets, Gatorade's iced down, alarm clocks set, prayers sent up...(prayers over knees, over hips, and over dry goggles... and please not to drown)

Race Day. Dense fog covered the park grounds... The athletes stood and waited like penguins in their wetsuits bobbing in and out of the water...some taking walks, some warming up in the water. I could feel the nervous energy in the air, hanging like the fog around us. The start was delayed. I had put my swim cap and goggles on way too early- my head started to throb. I was scared to take the goggles off because I had placed them perfectly, didn't want to mess with my goggles too much, feared they would leak…ohh, the race day apprehensions…

National anthem...the ladies next me were asking me why I wasn't wearing a wetsuit. They were impressed. HA! Little did they know, it was only for the sole reason that I'm so novice, I just hadn't gotten around to buying one yet.-- third triathlon...The swim start was unlike the two other Tri's I had done where we all started in the water at once in a fluttering mess. At Pigman, we did a 'time trial' start and actually gracefully ran into the water one at a time. Brilliant. Calm. This felt right. For the first time I started the race without that annoying, panicky feeling that says I'm going to drown. Forward I went... one stroke at a time. God, the water felt great. I felt strong. People passed me... more people passed me. Large, strong men and leathery women glided by... on, I went. Sometimes, my mind began to get desperate and it wanted to taunt me that I was the last one. THIS is danger. I wouldn't let it. I refused to think that I was the last one; this would have been the end of me. I would tell myself, I was doing fine, go forward, one stroke at time, orange buoys. I count too... a lot... one, two, three, breathe....one, two, three, breathe.... God, one, two, three, breathe...God, one, two, three, breathe, God....I'm good, I'm strong....one, two, three, breathe, ....And that's how it went....until I got out of the water, running up the hill. I was so happy I had accomplished the swim that I was hollering my 'woo hoos!' as I ran to transition. I heard my husband cheering me on. I screamed like a rock star. Probably, not the best energy saver but I felt so exhilarated I just had to express the enthusiasm. Although I am one of the slower swimmers, I’ve just come such a long way that I can’t help but be excited for overcoming it.

Upon reaching transition, I discovered that there were only a few bikes left. Time to rock and roll. The ride felt good, rolling hills…., a bit slower than I anticipated however…my knee had not completely healed from a previous injury and that knee pain definitely slowed me down. It felt like a knife just found its way in the joint and then hung out there. I kept my mind off the pain. My main focus on the bike was to “practice” nutrition. By this I mean forcing myself to eat or fuel every 15 minutes. I almost choked several times eating power bars and I think I could feel my stomach starting to rot from the sugar, carbs, and caffine- God, I love this sport. The other super fun item was yelling at the volunteers to stop the cars. As I entered the park, a car tried to race me, no kidding. I pointed to the car and hollered to the poor volunteer, “Stop this car!” Don’t cars realize that they will win against a cyclist and we know that… humph…56 miles completed….time to get off the bike.

Transition 2. Drop the bike, strip the shoes… sneakers on, visor, sunglasses…start to run while putting on my watch --what am I forgetting? Off I go…Truly; I know now why they call this action from riding a bike to then running, ‘bricking’. Your legs feel like tree trunks… Adrenaline spiking, I started out a 7 something pace. No Sara, back off. I backed off… the sun got hotter, the miles longer…. I kept running. I was grateful I had force-fed my body on the bike. I was utilizing every ounce of that sugar-carb crap and I was happy about it. I felt like I could actually feel my body respond to the nutrition. Every time I ate and drank I got stronger…. I started passing people. That felt good- finally, passing people. I kept going. Some of the water stations had warm water, not refreshing if you ask me. If they had ice, I stashed it. Yep, sure did stash ice cubes in various places and that’s as far as I’ll go. I kept my pace pretty slow that first 6 miles and really pushed it out the last 6. My chin was up as I passed this one group of buff tri-guys. They were walking up a hill! Can you believe that- walking? When I run, I feel like I’m in my element. Its my safe-zone. I own it and that feels good. Overall, my run was about a nine minute pace. Honestly, it was hard as a runner to look down and see my slow pace, but I had to put things in perspective….I was passing large groups of young, muscular men on the hills… So many people walked, I could not believe it. Walking didn’t even cross my mind; I considered that a good sign.

Crossing the finish line, I completed the 70.3 triathlon in about 6 hours 10 minutes. Not bad for only signing up for the race about two weeks prior. I was elated. I think the best part of the whole thing was that my sister was doing it too. See, when ya think ya might drown, or its super hot, or your knee bothers you or the hills kick your butt, somehow, its just easier to finish knowing that your best friend is doing it too….on the same roads, the same hills, hearing the same cheers and experiencing the same challenges. Thanks Michelle. I love you honey.

As I hugged and congratulated her at the finish line, we were thinking the same thing. Let’s double it. Iron Man, here we come…

Life and Death is in the Power of the Tongue

I hate you! You disgust me! I wish you were never born! I wish I had never married you. You're nothing to me!

Ouch...I think we can all agree that these words have power. These words can do damage, serious damage. We've all said hateful, regretful things, spoken daggers which we regretfully remember... We understand the harm these words cause when we say them to one another, right?

Then, why do we ignore the damaging effects words have when we say negative things about ourselves? I know I am using an extreme example here, but I'm trying to illustrate a point; words have power. How many times after races have I heard athletes beat themselves up negatively? I hear, "this just isn't my sport." Or, "I'll never be a fast runner." Or, "I'm fat. I'm slow. I suck at this." Well, I say, "STOP WITH THE NEGATIVITY!" Don't you realize your words have power and they can do serious damage?

When it comes to our sports, negative attitudes damage our outcomes in lots of ways. For one, they make you slower and less strong. They can make you lose or give up. They even hurt others. C'mon, you don't want that! Remember, last week I talked about those "creeping thoughts" and not allowing them to control your race or prevent you from doing your best? You've got to combat them with positive thoughts. I know this sounds crazy, but sometimes when I've almost gone cu-put at the end of a race, I will repeat the same thought over and over in my mind and it will be something like, "Sara, you are strong, you are powerful, you will pass that person." I'll repeat it over and over and over. Its amazing but by thinking positively, my chin will raise higher, my core engages stronger, and I am faster for it. You can be too.

Have you ever noticed that many of us won't even accept positive compliments? So many times I'll compliment my dearest friends on their remarkable performances (and I have the most remarkable friends around) and they will kind of nod me off... Or say, "whatever..." I always combat this with a reminder to just say, Thank you. Look, even if we don't believe it right at that second, start accepting the positive encouragement....You'd be surprised how much more confident you'll become, how much more mentally strong you will become, and how your performance will get better because of it.

Accept and Express the positive even if you don't believe it....after a while....you will.
OK, I'm gonna use another extreme example... When I was a little girl, I thought I was fat and ugly. Sad...I know. My mom had to listen to me putting myself down all the time. One afternoon, my mom and I were in the car and I was expressing my negative laundry list of adjectives for myself. She said this, "Sara, life and death is in the power of the tongue." I wish you could see yourself the way that I see you. You are beautiful and you're certainly not fat. She urged me to drop the negative garbage I was expelling and begin to verbalize the positive. I did. Then, I kept doing it. After awhile, I began to like what I saw in the mirror. It wasn't long after that I believed I was a beautiful person. Words have power.

Now, I apply this positive expression during my training and all my competitions. In fact, I strive to be positive in all facets of my life. I urge you to ACCEPT AND EXPRESS the positive. If you're not an athlete, and you aspire to be one, start to express that you are as you make the changes in your life. Start to express the positive.
No more verbal garbage. Continue on, even if you don't believe it at first. And remember, life and death is in the power of the tongue.

Stop Negotiating.

Imagine you're running. Its hot. You're sweating. You're 10 miles in and the last part of your run consists of steep, unforgiving hills. What are you thinking? Are you thinking about how your legs hurt? How your clothing is dripping with salty sweat drops? Are you thinking that no one is around so it's okay that you slow down? STOP NEGOTIATING.

That's what you're doing, isn't it? You're negotiating with yourself to not give your best...to give up the fight. Our minds start to look for "ways out" when the going gets tough. Have you noticed that? Most people don't even realize that they do it. Start to become aware of where your mind goes when you face challenges. I might suggest that the best athletes in the world have stopped negotiating. I might suggest that this mental strength is something that separates the best from the rest of us. That's right, don't let those thoughts enter your mind, not for one second. Keep them out. Its those creeping thoughts that enter our minds and start making excuses for us. Keep your eyes on the target, focus, and don't negotiate anymore. Do not allow one reason to explain why you're not doing your best.

The other day I did about a 12 mile run in 95 degree heat where the heat index screamed 100+. Towards the end of my run, the air had chilled to a cool 90... My last two miles were all uphill. But here's the juice in it. Here's where it gets good folks. Here's where most people give up. Here's where you stop negotiating. I pushed through and up and up and up. My legs were sore from a work out from the day before, but I wouldn't let my mind recall that because then, I would have a way out. I picked a spot in the distance, past the last hill. I focused in and dug deep. I felt the negotiating reasons tug at my brain....If I allowed them in, they would have taunted, 'Sara you're sore from your Total Conditioning class yesterday. Sara's is super hot; everyone slows down in the heat. Sara, isn't your knee still hurting from Saturday's hill workout?' The difference between the best and the others is that the best don't negotiate.

Look at your life. Where are you negotiating? Is it before you even started the workout? Are you already making excuses why you shouldn't move your body today? Do you know you need to call someone and suddenly you're telling yourself you're too tired? Have you told a friend you'd meet them and all the sudden, you reason that you can't make the date because you've got too many errands to run? We negotiate with ourselves all the time...not just during the workouts. I challenge you to keep your mind focused and forbid the thoughts of reason.

Stop Negotiating.