#1 FUN: No matter how intriguing a medal is, there must be some entertainment value to the race or the miles just drag by.  My favorite race to date has to be my very first one--The Disney Half Marathon. Not only did we get to run through Disneyland and California Adventure, but we also had the opportunity to run through Angel's Stadium and have our faces plastered on the Jumbotron.  Those experiences alone made this race worth all the miles, but in addition there were bands, cheerleaders, and all sorts of entertainment provided by the residents of Anaheim.  Just when I thought I couldn't go another step, I would run by a mariachi band or a group of Polynesian dancers, and they would remind me that I need to keep moving.  Now not all races are this fun-filled, but there are many ways to keep yourself entertained.  I think my next favorite race was the Sedona, Arizona half.  I ran this without any of my running friends, but the scenery was breathtaking and kept my attention throughout a very challenging course (high altitude and very steep hills).  So pick your races carefully so that the experience will be a positive one--no medal is worth 13.1 miles that just drag on.
          It is also important for me to make my training miles fun as well.  I look forward to my Tuesday/Thursday runs with my running buddies.  We push ourselves on the runs, but we catch up on our lives and take time to document our adventures with photos.  I also try to make sure we have a group at the gym or on long bike rides.  It just makes the miles fly by when you can focus on something other than how many miles are left to complete or focusing on the fact that your legs feel like jello. Training with others is definitely a greater gift than any medal could ever bring.

          #2 FEELING GOOD ABOUT MYSELF:  I spent most of my twenties, thirties, and part of my forties feeling horrible about myself.  That is a long time to have to look in the mirror and be so unhappy.  I avoided many social situations, largely because they don't make cute clothes for sizes larger than 16.  Who wants to go to a party wearing clothes that look like they have been made out of furniture fabric?  I hid from photo opportunities on a regular basis, because I did not want any documentation of the lowest point in my life.  Now I am known for my manic need to document all our training sessions--you may not have noticed all my picture posts on Facebook.
          Not only do I no longer shy away from social situations, but I feel amazing.  I have more energy than I have had since my teens, which is very important when you have an extremely active 5 year-old boy in the house.  It also takes a lot of energy to wake up between 3 and 4 am to get in all the swimming, biking, and running I need to fit in in order to be prepared for my full Ironman.  I often have to do 2-3 hours of exercise before I go to work, so that my training does not take too much time away from my family.  I could never have kept up this grueling schedule when I weighed over 200 pounds.  All my energy was sapped just doing everyday things like housekeeping, work, and playing with my children.  No medal could ever replace how I feel about myself these days!

          #3 FRIENDS Part I: Running brings me together with incredible people.  How many people can say that they have friends that would get up at 3 am to drive them down to a race and spend almost 5 hours waiting in the cold air to cheer them on and support them as they run their first marathon like Emily and Stephanie did?  How about a group of friends, that will get up with you well before the sun rises to run, or friends that would brave temperatures under thirty degrees to swim in an outdoor pool with you like Karrie, Emily, and Leslie?  I have come across the most consistent, supportive training partners because of my new lifestyle.  I know that I would not be as far on my journey to flabulous if it were not for my training friends--they are much more important to me than any medal I can add to my collection.

          #4 FRIENDS PART II: I have met some people that, while I may only see them every couple of months at races, I consider them a support none the less.  It doesn't matter if I run in Portland, Oregon, Las Vegas, Nevada, or a small local race in Redlands, California, I can count on the fact that I will see my Marathon Maniac (MM) or Half Fanatic (HF) friends there to support each other.  These runners are a hard-core group of people that, once you join the ranks by completing a certain number of races in a specified amount of time, you are a part of the family.  At my Carlsbad race Marathon Maniac Ed not only took the time to run the last half mile to the finish with me, but he did the same for many other competitors as well.  And all along the route my MM and HF friends cheered me on--this kind of support is certainly more beneficial than any medal.

          #5 FAMILY: Last but not least, I have a family that supports me in all the crazy things I decide to put my body through.  While I attempt to do much of my training before my family wakes up, there are times that I have to rely on my family to watch my son so I can get some of my longer miles in. Today I biked for 56.5 miles in preparation for a 100 mile bike race at the end of March, but then I had to run 2 miles to practice my bike to run transition for Ironman.  It was a long day, but my amazing daughter took her brother to lunch and a trip to a children's museum, so I could fit this workout in.  I wouldn't trade her for every race medal in the world.
          I also have a husband that not only allows me time to train, but he does much of the bike miles with me.  We have been on this journey to better health together, and nothing is more precious than being a good example for your kids--not even an amazing piece of bling.
          And while my medals are certainly good reminders of all that I have accomplished, my improved health and self-confidence and my family and friends are worth more than any medal I could ever win.  I will continue to be drawn to fancy medals, but nothing can ever replace the incredible second chance I have been given at life because of my new lifestyle. 

          As you can probably guess from the fact that I never even posted my weekly blog last week, things have been crazy in the McCarthy Household.  Work has been more hectic than usual, training is ramping up, and in the middle of everything, we are completely re-landscaping our front yard ourselves. 
          In the midst of all this chaos, I have been trying to take time to enjoy my family, my friends, and to enjoy the training process itself.  Up to this point I have been actually preparing myself to be at a level where I can even do the first week of a full Ironman training schedule.  I was not a strong swimmer, and I have been spending 3 days a week for the last seven months swimming at my local rec center pool.  I have gotten to the point where I can swim about 2,000 yards in a little less than and hour, and I no longer feel like I am going to drown.  I am nowhere near where I was hoping to be at this point with my swimming, but at least I still have almost six more months to improve my stroke and increase my speed.
          So last Sunday, two days before the beginning of my Ironman training it finally happened--I fell off my bike.  And I am not even sure that fall is exactly the word for what happened.  I think it might really be classified as tipping over.  I was going up a driveway and unclipped my right shoe so I could stop.  When I pushed down on the pedal to get myself up the incline, my shoe reengaged itself and I was headed straight for the garage door.  My only option was just to tip myself over and hope for the best.  I landed on my right shoulder and bumped my right knee and foot as well.  I was sore, but thankfully no permanent damage.  Not a great start to a time when I really need to be at my very best.
          Tuesday was D-Day--do it day, but I must admit that despite all the anticipation and preparation, I actually missed my very first day of training.  I was fighting a little cold, my shoulder was hurting, and I actually had to be on the road by 6:30 am to attend a meeting in Riverside.  This was a hard decision for me because I also knew that there was no way for me to make it up--I had eight hours of work followed by three hours of tutoring, a dinner date with some friends, and even I need a little sleep.
          The next morning I was up at 3:30 am, so I could be in the gym pool by 4 am.  I had a 7:30 meeting with some teachers, so I knew I had to complete my workout by no later than 6:15.  If you can believe it, there were actually three people in the pool before I even got there.  Honestly, I could not believe how many crazy people would be up swimming at that god awful hour.  A nice couple decided they could double up in a lane, so I could complete my swim workout.  I jumped right in and completed the 1,900 yards my workout required, and I added an extra 200 for good measure.  I figured that my training had brought me to be able to do 2,000, and I was not going to do any less than that.
          At about 5 am I finished my swim workout and headed to the locker room to change.  I cannot believe how many things I had to remember so that I would be prepared for both sports and a shower and change for my work day.  Spin class started at 5:30, and I knew I had to be on my bike by no later than 5:15, so I attempted to change quickly.  One thing I learned this week is that wet, chlorinated skin and a tight sports bra do not mix.  I honestly spent more than 10 minutes trying to untwist my bunched up sports bra and pull it over my my shoulders and back--and I don't have much to pull it over.  It seemed the more I fussed with it, the more bunched up it became.  I began to contemplate attending class without my bra, but I knew that the up and down nature of spin class would require some restraint, even for my tiny bosom.  After 20 minutes I was finally in my bike clothes, on my bike, and ready for the workout.
          After 50 minutes of spinning I rushed to the shower so I could make it in time for my early morning meeting.  However, when I looked in my carefully packed gym bag, I had forgotten shampoo, a razor, my foundation make-up, and my pair of shoes ended up being two very similar, but different shoes.  I decided that I better rush home to clean up, and thankfully made it to my meeting with a couple minutes to spare--and this was just Day 1 (well technically Day 2, but from here on we will forget about that first missed day)!
          Day 2 was a lot smoother.  I woke up at 4:15 am, so that I could get in an hour bike ride on my trainer before meeting my running buddies at 5:45.  The thing I love about the trainer is that I am able to catch up on my favorite TV shows as I get my exercise in.  Today's selection--Ellen.  I know I said that Ellen was going to take the backseat to Jillian and The Biggest Loser, but the truth is I haven't even watched one Biggest Loser this season.  I missed the first two episodes, and I refuse to watch any of them until I can get the back stories on all the contestants.  So Ellen it was.  At 5:30 I was off the bike and into my running clothes for a quick 3.5 mile pre-dawn run with Joe, Scott, and Danielle (Kay was with us in spirit). 
          On Day 3 Emily was able to meet me for our swim and bike workout.  Em is a swimmer, so she was able to give me a few pointers today.  My kick is definitely my weakness, so she pushed me to make more splash and point my toes in a little.  Good thing, my kick was stronger.  Bad thing, my legs felt like jello before we even hit the bikes.  Today I remembered to bring a slightly larger sports bra, so I could avoid the wrestling with my undergarments.  We decided to do a random hill climb function on the stationary bike, and my jello legs were definitely pushed to their absolute limits.  By the time we got back in the car 2 1/2 hour later, I was a little shaky in my legs, but so happy to have my workout done by 8 am.

          Day 4 had me doing 2 hour and 30 minute of up and down and very challenging hills from Temecula to Fallbrook and back with Karrie (I do get around, don't I?).  I felt very strong going up the hills, even the ones I have found challenging in the past.  In addition, I concentrated on being brave going down the steep slopes.  I hit the brakes a bit, just not as much as usual.  I must admit that I love being on the bike outdoors much more than either the spin class or the stationary bike work.
          And once I finished my bike ride I only needed to do a 25 minute run to practice the transition from biking to running.  It wasn't my best run.  I was very tired and the week of intense workouts is definitely taking its toll on me.  Those three miles felt like ten, but I pushed myself because I knew I needed to just get it done.
          Sunday will be the last workout for the week, and the last workout before a much needed day of rest.  I will be swimming about 2100 yards and then doing an hour and a half run with Emily at the gym.  I am looking forward to the end of week 1--it was tough, but I WILL survive!

          I don't even know where to start with this blog.  An entire week later, and I am still so excited about the whole experience that I sit here with a huge grin and my eyes welling up with tears.  I will apologize in advance, but this one is going to be a long one.  I don't want to forget one minute of this race, because I don't know if I will ever have a race like this again.  This was honestly one of the most incredible experiences of my life, and probably not for the reasons you might think.
          So let me start from the beginning.  I had months of training with all my consistent running friends to prepare myself for this day.  I had one small nagging injury that I was a little concerned about, but I was hoping that a sore heel wouldn't keep me from realizing my dream of completing the entire 26.2 miles, and that I would be able to do it in a time between 5 and 5 1/2 hours.
          The day before the race I picked up my bib at the expo, scoped out the start of the race, and then headed home to relax and rest for the next day's experience.  When I arrived at the house, Emily was there with a bright green shirt that she and my entire team had contributed to to inspire me.  Each person had written a quote to remind me that no matter what my brain tried to tell me, I was ready for this race.  My thoughtful daughter Siobhan also painted a 26.2 mile logo on my toes so that my feet would remember that they were in it for the long haul.
          Early on race day morning, my friends Emily and Stephanie met me before 4 am to drive me down to the start line of my first full marathon.  I cannot tell you how calm I was knowing that I didn't have to worry about parking, about finding the race start, or about wearing some warm weather gear at the start of my race.  I knew I had these two here to make my race as comfortable as 26.2 miles can be. 
          Hours before the race we stopped to get one last cup of coffee, and we hit the last traditional bathroom I would see until well after the race.  Any runner can tell you what a treasure it is to not have to clear everything out in one of those port-o-potties.  I know, too much information, but true nonetheless.  I was able to sip my coffee and mentally prepare for what was to come.
          At about 5:45 we headed toward the start line so I could find my training buddy Joe who was going to run the first few miles with me.  Joe is a little faster than I am, and I really credit him with improving my running speeds over the last few months, so I knew I needed to start with him.  We had some trouble locating Joe, but in the process we ran into Ed Ettinghausen.  Ed is a fixture among the racing community.  When I ran the San Diego Half last year, it was Ed that ran the very last runner, who I believe was blind, across the finish line. So I was so incredibly happy to see him before the race.  You can usually find Ed at mile .2 holding a sign that reads, "Only 26 more miles to go," and near the finish line his sign reminds everyone that they are almost there.  This morning Ed was also carrying a sign tauting the fact that, "It never rains in Southern California."  I really think that his sign kept all raindrops away from that entire race, because even though it was pouring on the ride down from Murrieta, the rain never appeared during the course of 26.2 miles.  Ed runs the entire race carrying his signs, ringing a cow bell, and wearing his distinctive jester costume.  All the while he is cheering for and pushing on any runners who he sees might need his encouragement--and I really needed to see Ed on Sunday.
          About 15 minutes before race time I finally found Joe, and then I knew that I was really ready to roll.  At 6:15 am the race started and all 2000 runners were off.  I kind of knew the lay of the land because my dad had not only looked up my race number so he could follow me on the live feed, but told me how I could divide the race in thirds and take the race one piece at a time.  Because of him I knew ahead of time where I was going to need to push it, and where I would be able to make up time--thanks dad!  In the first three miles, I was able to keep pace with Joe until one of us had to take a potty stop (not me).  I continued on until I ran into two women, Heather and Susan, at about mile 5.  I noticed that we had been chasing each other since the beginning of the race, so I figured that they would be perfect pacers for me.  I was able to really push through miles 5-17 because we talked and encouraged each other that whole way.  I think I could have continued the whole race with them, but the dreaded heel pain kicked in at Mile 17, and I had to slow down just a little.
          Miles 17-23 were the most difficult for me.  My left heel was hurting, my thighs started cramping up a little, and I did more walking in this stretch than I had the entire race.  So many runners and bystanders saw, because of my shirt, that I was a first time runner that they made sure to give me encouraging words so I would continue on.  At about mile 20 I ran into Jorge Ruiz, but I didn't know at the time that he was my friend Nadia's dad.  He was carrying the 4:45 pacer sign, and when he saw me walking he grabbed me and told me I could do it, and that I just needed to stay with his group.  Now, Nadia's dad does not know me--he just saw a first timer hurting on the course and he knew he could help.  I was able to stay with his group for the next two miles, and I ran that whole way even though my legs were starting to give up on me.  I am so thankful that Mr. Ruiz took that time to help me--I really needed the encouragement at exactly the moment his group reached me.
          At just before mile 23, I once again met up with my support crew.  As I ran up the hill, I could see Emily's taco hat on the horizon, and I knew I was going to get another boost of energy from my friends.  Both Em and Steph were there to cheer me on and tell me how proud of me they were.  It was just what I needed--that and a handful of pretzels Stephanie handed me.  I think that snack helped the cramping and gave me just enough energy to make it in those final miles.
          As I headed past mile 25, I heard a live band in the distance.  I think because of the threat of rain, many musicians had stayed home.  There were many spots along the route where you could tell they had made space for a band, and no one was there.  I am big on music, I almost can't run without my iPod playlist, so I was very thankful for this band braving the predicted bad weather.  I rounded the corner and I heard the lead singer say, "Is that you Mrs. McCarthy?"  In my marathon induced haze, I honestly thought that maybe the singer was one of my former students and that she had recognized me as I was running by.  She then said, "I heard you are doing an Ironman in July."  At that point I was very confused--how would one of my former students know that?  It was then that I looked down and saw my Ironman training friend Karrie right by the band waiting for me to pass by.  Finally it all made sense.  Karrie then jumped on the course and started running the last mile with me.  As we rounded the corner I heard the lead singer shout, "Good luck on Vineman!"  At this point I realized I was actually going to finish this thing.
          Karrie and I pushed on for the next half-mile together before we ran into my final marathon gift--Ed Ettinghausen.  He was there to run the final half-mile with me so that Karrie could actually see me finish.  He waved his sign, he rang his bell, and he told me that I had this in the bag.  He ran that whole distance with me before he handed me off to Stephanie who was there to actually run me down the chute to the finish line. I was shooting to finish before five and a half hours, and I completed my marathon in a respectable 4:51:14.  And as I crossed that finish line, I was happy to get the medal, but it was so much more than that.
          I said at the beginning of this blog that this was one of the best experiences, but it wasn't just because I finished a marathon and received my marathon bling.  It was the entire experience.  It was the people who took time out of their busy schedules to cheer for me, support me, and make me feel special. It was the racers themselves who took focus from their races to give me hints and suggestions, and like Sef and Joy who stopped to hug me and take my picture.  It was the spectators on the road who cheered on perfect strangers, and it was the volunteers, and the race staff.  It was also the friends and family following me on the live tracker to make sure I was moving along toward my goal of completing my first full marathon.  I honestly feel like this race was a team effort--I could not have done it without my entire team behind me! 
          So thanks to everyone, I am now a full marathon virgin no more.  I have recovered beautifully with only a couple days of real soreness, and a few days of fatigue that had me having trouble keeping my eyes open at work.  I have proved to myself that I can finish at least one leg of my Ironman--Vineman, here I come!