As if swimming 2.4 miles, then biking 112 miles, and then just for kicks adding a full 26.2 mile marathon run, if this weren't difficult enough, I have another obstacle I need to overcome--silence.  Besides my training friends, my next most constant companion is my iTunes music.  Those tunes honestly keep me entertained no matter how long or how challenging the task is, I can always count on my music to pull me through.  Unfortunately, USA Triathlon Association (USATA) rules state, "No participant shall, at any time during the event, use or wear a hard cast, headset, radio, personal audio device, or any other item deemed dangerous by the Head Referee. Any violation of this Section shall result in a variable time penalty."  And while I am not worried about a time penalty because it will keep me out of the winners circle, I am very worried about not having enough time to finish.  I need every second available and would hate to get a DNF (Did Not Finish) because I chose to bring my music with me.
          Now USATA has good reason to ban any kind of headphone.  One of the first safety rules Coach Brian from team in Training shared with us was the no headphone rule and for good reason.  Brian had been running and was so absorbed in his music that he actually ran right into a sign and almost knocked himself out.  Music really can be a distraction, and not always in a good way.  In addition, when you are biking and running you really need to be able to listen for any motor vehicles around you.  With the new quieter fuel efficient cars, they can really sneak up on you.  Also, you need to watch out for crazy people trying to attack you.  I had always worried more about this danger during my runs, but a few months ago a man knocked a girl riding by herself off her bike and assaulted her.  A final reason to be wary of using headphones is other bikes.  In biking there is biking etiquette when you come up on someone or go to past them.  You let them know you are passing them by saying something like, "On your left."  For all these reasons I understand why this equipment is banned from races.
          Despite all these safety reasons and the fact that I have known for a while that I would not be able to race with music, I still continue to train with my tunes on all legs of my practice. I just cannot stand the sound of silence.. Therefore, I have a SwimP3 player for my long yards in the pool, and my iPhone provides me with hours of my favorite artists on both my runs and long bike rides.  What can I say--I love my music. I am just very careful.  I only put one earbud in, and I keep my music down very low so I can hear what is around me including conversations with my running friends.
          So basically I have been ignoring the fact that I am not training in true Ironman conditions, but I am doing what I can to get through the grueling training.  The other day I was spending the day with my friends Kay and Sachiyo.  Kay had been reading up on the triathlon rules, because she will be doing her first triathlon in June with some of her Walla Walla friends.  She brought up the no headphones rules and asked me how I was going to survive without my music.  She knows me so well.  It once again reminded me that I probably needed to do something to prove to myself that I can do the long Ironman distance without Danny Elfman, Eric Clapton, and Kelly Clarkson as my constant companions.
          What better way to test myself than to do my very first full century without music?  What could go wrong?  So I left my earbuds back at the hotel and just hoped for the best.  The first thirty-five miles of the race were actually easy without the music.  I spent part of the race talking with my friend Leslie, part of the race with my husband Sean, and before I knew it more than a third of the ride was done.  It couldn't have been easier to ride without my treasured music--until I reached the Box Canyon uphill climb.
          I shared in my last blog that the most difficult stretch of the race was this mile 35 to 50 leg.  It wasn't even that it was fifteen miles of uphill terrain.  It was the incredibly forceful winds that pushed down on us and made fifteen miles feel more like thirty.  Normally, I don't let hills win.  I push hard and get to the top as fast as I can, but the winds and the desolate terrain started to get to me.  For the first time I thought I might not actually be able to make it to the next rest stop at the top.  I was really starting to think maybe I made a mistake using my first century to attempt to tough it out without music.  What was I thinking?  The sound of silence and not knowing how far I still had to go was really testing me mentally more than physically.
        I had to do something to keep from giving up, so I started focusing on the riders coming down the hill.  I was willing these riders to give me some kind of encouragement or sign that I was getting close to the next rest stop.  Most people didn't even acknowledged me, some glanced in my direction but gave me no indication of how close I was, and one amazing rider actually gave me a thumbs up that helped me push through a few more miles. 
          The winds got even stronger, and at one point I felt a gust nearly knock me over sideways. In addition, I didn't seem to be getting any closer to the rest stop at the top of the hill.  I decided to play another game to pass the time.  I saw some large power generators at the top.  I figured once I got to that landmark, I would surely arrive at my destination. I continued to pump my feet as hard as I could and try not to give in to the urge to stop pedaling.  Unfortunately, when I got to the generators there was still no end in sight.  There were few riders headed down to distract me, and I didn't know how much longer I could continue.  I have never felt so much like just turning around and giving up.
          Instead of giving in to the urge to stop pedaling, I started singing my favorite tunes in my head.  I have listened to the same playlist for most of my Ironman training this year, so I actually have some of the lyrics memorized by heart.  One in particular pops into my head quite a bit--"Uprising" by Muse.  Besides the beat being almost like a war call, a few select words have become my mantra when things get tough in my training. So when I am tired and I need to push myself through, I start to chant, "They will not control us; we will be victorious," in my head.  Not sure why this helps me, but it reminds me not to give in to the negativity and to let my training take over when my mind is telling me to quit.
          As I was running my mantra through my head for the hundredth time, a guardian angel on a bike rode by and yelled at me that I only had a mile to go. That rider had no idea what those words meant to me, but it was just what I need to push hard to the top.  Once I made it through the challenge of getting up the hill, I knew I could do the rest of the course without too much difficulty.  That is the beauty of out and backs.  You know exactly what you are in for for the last half.
          In the end, I learned that I can do the long miles without music, at least for one day.  I need to do more training without tunes, but I do not doubt that I can survive Ironman with the sound of silence.  I will have my training buddies to talk to.  If we separated, which I am sure might happen, I will focus on the beautiful scenery surrounding me and listen to the sounds of nature.  And when all else fails I will remind myself that, "They will not control us; we will be victorious."  I am in control, and with my training and positive attitude behind me, I will conquer even this most difficult challenge.  I will be an Ironwoman!

          As I prepare for Ironman, there are weekly training challenges that I must meet in order to be prepared.  Each week I must increased the number of miles I swim, bike, and run in order to reach at least 80% of the final mileage I am expected to do to successfully complete the Ironman in under seventeen hours.
            In addition, I also set other milestones for myself.  I had to complete my first triathlon, I had to finish a full marathon, and the final big hurdle was to prove to myself that I could ride a full century—100 miles.  For some reason, this was the hurdle I was least worried about.  Don’t get me wrong, I knew this was going to push me to my limits, it is just that for some reason, I never doubted I could do this.  I am not really sure why I was so confident, but maybe it has something to do with the fact that I actually have previous experience with long distance cycling.

         When I was in my freshman year of college, I had a bad break up with a boyfriend, and instead of getting even by drinking and carousing…my revenge was getting stronger.  I saved all my money and bought a $500 black Peugeot racing bike.  That amount of money doesn’t sound like much, but it was a fortune for me in 1985.  My very first ride with the bike shop took me 30 miles, and I never looked back.  I lived in Pacific Beach at the time, and I would commute back and forth from my USCD campus to my apartment, which was not a flat route.  I also challenged myself by doing the Pacific Beach to Del Mar route.  Going up and down Torrey Pines is no easy feat.  I was probably at my strongest and fittest point—up until now.  Maybe this experience with biking is why I was not as nervous about my first century, even though I had technically only been able to train to 60 miles before yesterday's ride.
            Yesterday morning Sean and I rose before the sun to tackle this latest challenge, the Spring Rush Palm Desert Century.  We decided that instead of driving to the start line where we would need to worry about finding parking, we would instead just ride our bikes down there.  What is another three miles when we were already going to need to complete 100?  By the time Karrie and Leslie arrived, we left a little after 7 am for this next step in my Ironman journey.

           It looked like the weather was going to cooperate.  As we left the starting line it was a reasonable 65 degrees, and the forecast predicted that it would not get above 82.  The first thirty-five miles were actually easy.  Lots of flat terrain, cooler temperatures, and well stocked rest stops every 10-15 miles.  I was attempting to take a different perspective with this race--I was going to enjoy every minute of this experience.  Because one of my biggest fears is not training enough for Ironman, I attempt to do every workout suggested, every mile of bike, swim, and run in the plan, and in the process, I sometimes forget to just relax and be in the moment.  I decided that one of my goals for this race was to push myself on the bike, but take time to enjoy the scenery, stay as much as possible with Sean, Karrie, and Leslie, and not worry about flying out of the rest stops in record time.  So at each leg of the ride, I worked on keeping a good pace, but once I got to the rest stops I waited for everyone to arrive, get hydrated and fueled, and when everyone was ready, we took off together.  I think because I took this perspective, I did not stress at all about finishing the race--that is until we hit Box Canyon.

          Now, I am not afraid of hills.  In fact, I love both running and biking up hills.  I consider each hill a challenge that I need to conquer, and this is often where I decide to push myself the hardest.  This hill was no exception, but fifteen miles of straight uphill even had me worried.  And that was before the winds started to howl all around us.  The head and side winds were honestly the most powerful I have ever experienced while biking or running.  No matter how hard I pedaled, it was like I was barely moving forward.  It felt like I must have gone at least ten miles when I came up on a southern California chemistry teacher we met at the rest stops.  I asked her if we were finally near the top, and she told me we still had eight or nine miles left to go.  Mentally, I was losing it.  After what felt like an eternity, I finally got the sign I was waiting for.  A very kind rider heading down yelled at me that I only had one more mile to go.  That was enough to push me through to the top.
          The ride down was amazing.  There were very few motor vehicles, so for the first time I could race down a hill at top speeds without any worry that I would be hit by a car.  The fifteen miles down was a completely different experience than the way up, and we were at the rest stop at the bottom in no time. 

          At the rest stop we met an incredible Canadian couple. Both were riding bicycles completely covered in bags with supplies.  As you can see from the photo at the left, she has a bag on her handle bars, two connected to her front tire, and she has two on the back as well (about 50 kg of weight on each bike).  This couple started their ride in Argentina 16 months ago, and have been riding and camping all the way through South America, Mexico, and now Southern California.  They have ridden over 10,000 miles, and by the time they reach Alaska they will have logged nearly 20,000.  Karrie, Leslie, and I were feeling silly for complaining about 15 difficult miles after talking to these two. It is funny how life sends people like this into your life to remind you to put challenges into perspective.
           After the break with the downhill, and after meeting the two Canadian travelers, the rest of the race was relatively easy both mentally and physically.  At mile 85 I realized I had gone twenty-five more miles than my longest training distance, and my body had not completely rebelled. 
           The last 25 miles, Karrie, Leslie, our new chemistry teacher friend Sharon, and I had ridden in a pace line straight to the finish, and it felt great to do so as a team.  I am not sure why, but this century was so much easier on my body than my full marathon.  Today, one day after riding 100 miles, I was a little bit sore, but I was still able to hike up a canyon with my family.  Once I reached the top, I was able to run back down again with my daughter--so these sore legs were still able to pound out a little two-mile trail run, not bad.  So while I know that adding a 2.4 mile run and a full marathon to yesterday's one hundred mile challenge will not be easy, I feel that if I continue pushing my limits, I will be as ready as I possibly can.

          I have shared before that I have one major flaw--well if you ask my family they would say more than one, but I digress.  This flaw causes me to cry anytime I feel a strong emotion, great happiness, sadness, frustration, anger, it all causes the tears to  begin to stream non-stop from my eyes.  It can be extremely embarrassing, and when I am angry at someone, not at all effective in getting my point across.  It is one of the main reason I have chosen not to go into administration.  I can just see myself having a run in with an angry teacher or parent and then locking myself in my office as I roll up in a ball and have a good cry.  Like I said before, embarrassing.
          On Sunday I had the great pleasure of running the San Diego Half Marathon for the second year in a row.  It is a beautiful race that takes participants through different areas of the San Diego downtown, and last year it ended in the middle of Petco Park. This race was especially sweet for me because I got my last personal best race time at this venue. 
          Last year Kay and I were able to run this inaugural race together with a few of our close friends.  It was the first race where Kay and I had trained together and planned to push each other throughout the course.  At mile 6.5 at one of the water stops, we completely lost track of each other.  I kept looking back for her, but I never could locate her until she crossed the finish line.  As I looked back to include a picture of us on that day, I realized that we never even took a picture together.
          So, as I passed the same area where I lost Kay last year, all of a sudden I began to tear up.  My chest got tight, the tears began to flow, and I honestly thought I was going to need to stop to regain my composure.  I hadn't cried since the day Kay told me she had cancer, so I wasn't quite sure what had caused me to have these same feelings once again.  The more I thought about it, the more I realized I wasn't sad. I was angry.  Angry that Kay couldn't run this race with me.  Angry that Kay was having to suffer through cancer treatments that cause her to feel weak and not herself.  Angry that I still couldn't find a reason for why Kay was having to go through this great challenge.
          Then this week Kay posted a video that has been in the works about her cancer journey--Chick Interrupted.  A videographer from UCSD followed Kay on one of our runs, to one of her appointments, during her cancer surgery, and he put together a beautiful film to encourage people to get their colonoscopy.  Finally, I feel I understand the good that can come from this challenge--she is going to be a part of saving people's lives.
          So I am hoping that you will help me pass Kay's message on to others by sharing her video with your family and friends.  Let's make Kay's journey worth the effort, and then I will finally be able to find meaning in her great challenge.  The Kay Mueller Colorectal Cancer Story, "Chick Interrupted"

          I have actually written about this topic before, but I think it is one that bears repeating.  It is so important to enjoy what you are doing, or you will not be able to maintain it for very long.  I was reminded of this fact when earlier this week one of my running/triathlon friends posted how he is three weeks from a Half-Ironman and he has completely lost his will to train.  He shared, "I've completely lost my motivation to train... This has never happened to me before. What happened?"  I am pretty sure that we have all felt this way before, so I thought I would share my thoughts and some resources I have come across to help you get your training mojo back.

The weather is terrible and I can't train outdoors:  First, let me share that I honestly feel that sometimes the statement that you can't train outdoors in bad weather is an opinion and not a fact. Sure, there are going to be times when training outdoors would not be safe (lightning, incredibly high or low temperatures, etc.), but I think that maybe we need to change our attitude about what constitutes truly bad weather.  My absolute favorite running experience was when I went running in foot deep snow while I was visiting my sister-in-law for Christmas in Indiana.  I was training for a half-marathon, and my choice was to run around an indoor track at Rose Hullman University or brave the cold on a maintained trail that had not yet been cleared.  Luckily, I have an adventurous soul and a husband who doesn't mind trying new things--we chose to run in the snow.  I don't even know if I can accurately explain why I love running in the snow so much, but I will try.  First, the snow (granted it was new snow) really cushions your step, so it feels like you are running on marshmallows.  Also, it makes the most calming noise as your feet go in and out of the snow, "Koosh, koosh, koosh." And the air is fresh and crisp like breathing in the most pure oxygen on earth.  If I had chosen to let the weather decide I needed to train indoors, I would have missed this incredible experience.
          And I actually enjoy running in the rain, if it is not the torrential version.  I find if I try and find joy in the weather, my positive attitude makes it a positive experience. I love when the soft raindrops hit my face, and I am one who dislikes getting overheated when I run, so the rain cools me down.  In fact, I think the only weather that would drive me indoors to a treadmill would be extreme heat, and I can even avoid that by running in the early morning hours before it gets hot.

I train too early in the morning, and there is not enough light to safely train outdoors:  This is really an issue for me.  I have made a commitment to attempt to train early in the morning, so I do not lose as much time with my husband and children.  That means I am often up before 4 am to hit the road or the gym to train.  So, on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday I am often in the gym pool before 4:30, so I can also fit in long bike rides (spin or stationary bike). That way I can still be home by around 7:00 to see my daughter off to school and get my son ready for his day.  And on Thursdays I have to bike before I meet my running friends for our 5:45 am run, so I hook my bike to a trainer and ride indoors.  Riding on a trainer or working out in the gym can be very tedious unless you find some strategies to entertain yourself.
          To make the time pass more quickly, I often make sure I train with my friends.  This is not always possible, so my next strategy is to use television or movies to make the time pass.  When I am on my trainer, I have been getting caught up on Season 3 of Downton Abby.  I only allow myself to watch this show when I am biking on my trainer, so while this could be an incredibly dull hour for me, I actually look forward to my time riding indoors.  Last week I finished my hour of Downton on a cliffhanger, and I can't wait until Thursday to find out what is going to happen.  Once I am done with this series, I will just find another series or maybe even a movie to make the time pass quickly.
          I have also discovered that they make good light sources for both running and biking.  Emily bought me a headlamp, so when we run in the dark I can see any obstacles on the road and cars can see me.  On my bike I have a red flashing light at the back and a white one at the front so I can see where I am going.  And nothing is more beautiful than running or biking into the sunrise.

I am training so much that I am honestly just bored:  I combat this mostly by doing a variety of different challenging races to motivate myself to want to train.  I am anal about being prepared for a race, so I rarely miss training days because I would never want to go into a race unprepared.  That being said, occasionally I do find myself dreading a workout, especially if I have to do it by myself.
          I use music to ease the pain of the hours spent training.  I rarely run or bike without my iTunes music, and I have even found a music player (SwimP3) to wear in the pool while I do my long swim yards.  Now I know during the Ironman I will need to do it all without music, but for now I am just going to spend my time running, biking, and swimming with Pink, Oingo Boingo, and the Black Eyed Peas.
          Emily shared this link with me that some of you might find interesting: 4 Tips to Survive Triathlon Training. Active has some very interesting articles, so you might want to subscribe to their site so you get their tips coming your way on a regular basis.

          Along with all the tips above, I also find that if food is involved, I am more motivated.  I know this blog is devoted to sharing my weight loss and exercise tips, but everyone has to eat, right? So when I know there is a breakfast at Annie's in Lake Elsinore at the end of our morning rides, the miles seem to go much faster.  Last weekend Emily, Sean and I rode 60 miles from Yorba Linda to Huntington Beach and back.  At the halfway point we stop at a Burger joint by the Huntington Beach pier called TK Burgers.  Sean and I share a burger and fries, and we each get an Arnold Palmer (iced tea with a splash of lemonade for flavor).  That little treat keeps us pushing through the strong headwinds to the beach, and once you are there, even though the "food carrot" is no longer being dangled before us, we have to do the other half of the ride just to get back home.
          My husband Sean has found a different way to make his exercise fun for him--competition.  He has been following a bike blog called Chasing Mailboxes.  The author of this blog posts small challenges for readers to encourage them to find time to fit in more biking miles.  Last month the challenge called Errandonnee, tasked bikers to complete twelve bike errands in twelve days and ride a total of 30 miles while doing so.  The other challenge included only being able to count the same errand twice.  There were 11 categories you could choose from including dinner, coffee or dessert, grocery store, library, etc.  You had to complete errands in at least seven of the eleven categories, and two of the rides had to be done in the dark.  Sean and I had so much fun creating reasons to ride our bikes to different places around Murrieta--early morning coffee at Terry's Coffee Trader in Old Town Murrieta, sushi dinner at Sushi Hama, and riding our bike to Lowe's to look at plants for our front yard.  So when we mix some fun rides in among our long training rides, it is less likely the boredom will set in.

I've completely lost my motivation to train:  Going back to my original reason for writing this blog this week, what can you do to avoid loosing your passion for training?  This is actually one of my deepest fears--that I stop loving what I do, and I gain all my weight back.  So, I have tried to mix up my races by doing short and long course running, trail and mud runs, biking and triathlons, and by having these races on my schedule I am motivated to keep training.
          One thing I have tried to be very careful of is to not focus too much on my race times.  Don't get me wrong, I do strive to improve, and I am always happy with a personal record (PR).  I just find that if I focus my energy on that, I forget to have fun. I have two friends that focused so much on a specific marathon finishing time, that when they were unable to achieve that time, they actually lost their passion for running.  In contrast, my main goal for the Carlsbad marathon was just to complete it and do so in a reasonable time.  So I think because I didn't have the pressure to meet some challenging time, I was able to finish well under any time I would have wished for.  I thought I could reasonably finish under five and a half hours, and I did it in under five.  I had fun, and I still love running!
          I never want my training to become a chore, so even in the midst of this crazy Ironman training schedule, I still try to keep finding ways to keep my training interesting and fun.  I think as long as I do this, I will continue forward on the road to a more flabulous me.  There is no looking back for this girl!

          Over the last few years, I truly feel like I have become a better version of what I was in the past.  I am stronger, I am fitter, and I am happier than I have ever been. But, unfortunately, some things about me have not changed.  No matter how much better I get, there is still a heavyset, unhappy version of me inside that occasionally rears up her negative head and makes me doubt myself.  Nothing brings her out of hiding more than race photos.  I can have ten pictures of a fitter version of me, and if even one of those photos is unflattering, I will focus on that photo and begin to doubt the progress I have made.  After all, what you see is what you get, right?
          The two photos to the left were both taken of me in the last month.  And while both show a much leaner me, it is the photo to the left that demonstrates how warped my body image can still be.  I look at that photo and I see that my hips are still too wide and that my bike shorts under my warm up pants squish my thigh fat down.  And you will notice I take a lot of bike and run photos, but any pictures of me in my swimsuits are few and far between.  I am happy with my body from my belly button up and from my knees down.  Everything in between occasionally brings out the very insecure side of me.  I have gotten much better, but I wish I could consistently see that the photo on the right is the true representation of myself these days.
          Another thing that has not changed with me despite great effort on my part is the power the scale also has to make me feel frustration.  Lately I have been using the scale more to keep myself from gaining weight, but those numbers can still cause me to doubt that I am making any progress toward a more flabulous me.  How the scale's numbers look definitely don't demonstrate how I am feeling these days, yet if that scale goes up even a pound or two, I find myself spiraling into an insane need to question my eating habits--am I eating too much?  Am I eating too little?
          Honestly, these days I am finding it difficult to determine what the right amount of food might be when I am training so much.  At my current weight, I would burn about 1,600 calories a day just performing basic body functions (i.e. breathing, sleeping keeping your heart beating or regulating your internal temperature). Add in that I am burning over 2000 calories on most days with my workouts, and it can be hard to ascertain exactly what I should eat to help my body repair itself after exercise, to maintain energy, and to keep myself from being too hungry. Can you understand why I am a little confused these days?
          I don't want you to think that I have gone off the deep end.  I am still on the right track, but I suppose I have good days and bad days just like everyone else.  All I ask from myself is that I have fewer days of doubt, and more days spent being proud of all that I have accomplished in the last few years.  I must admit that how I look and how I feel are one and the same.  The scale and bad photos are just life's way of reminding me that I am human, and I must admit that I still have some work to do on my self-confidence. Thank you friends for supporting me and listening to me when I need to share my very unreasonable thoughts--I feel better already!