Hello...my name is Basket Case!!

My husband is telling me I need to be blogging right now.  Today??  “Are you kidding me?”  is what I am thinking.  This is the point in time, that I think I should NOT be blogging.  I think, people reading my blog with think I have gone off the deep end. And I am pretty sure I might have.  I mean, if I read this…I would think the same thing.  Yep, she’s nuts!!  

I cannot even begin to put into words what is going on with me physically, and mentally.  The tapering for Ironman, the race anticipation, the nerves, the hormones, the energy if this city, my friends, my family is CRAZY.  I cried ALL DAY yesterday.  It was Father’s Day, and I should have been celebrating the wonderful, amazing husband that I have, and I was crying.  Crying.  Every single thing mentioned by ANYONE about IM, made me cry.  I told Greg before we met with his family, to let them know, not to bring up the race.  He told me that was unfair of me to ask.  Everyone is so excited.  I warned them….and yes, even sitting in a bowling alley yesterday bowling with my in-laws, brother-in-law, niece, nephew, our kids…my mother-in law, mentioned how nice the weather is supposed to be Sunday for Ironman….I started crying.  See?  Crazy.

Today, I am just sick.  I have a lump in my throat, and am nauseous.  Having a hard time eating.  

Complete basket case.  I am going over transition stuff with a fine tooth comb.  Over and over.  Obsessing about every little thing.  Looking at it thinking it is not enough.  Each pile.  Swim pile, bike pile, run pile, 2 special needs piles (for bike and run special needs) making sure my pills are all in order.  Race Caps, Endurolytes, Sportlegs.  Thinking about the unknown.  What if I get to “Special Needs” on the bike, and my stuff isn’t there.  Yes, that happens.  Will I have enough fuel on the bike for the ENTIRE 112 miles, just in case?  Same with the run.  Bags not there, will I have enough on me to finish 26.2 miles?

And the swim…THE SWIM.  I have thought about it, drew out maps, visualized where I want to be in the pack of 2500 athletes entering that water.  Inside, outside, in the middle?? Front of pack (uh..No way) back of pack…but then I am quicker that back-of-the-packers.  Do I want to swim inside the buoys or outside?  Inside is nice, because not a lot of people know you can, so less kicks to the face while swimming, but then you deal with the cross-over at the turn around buoy, which you do have to swim around.  I am thinking about getting elbowed, kicked, losing goggles (do I wear 2 pair) about the people that will swim over the top of me…yes that happens too.  GULP!

Heading into this whole thing, I guess I really never anticipated these feelings.  I knew I would be nervous, and anxious, but figured the training would be the hardest part…and it has been long, and hard, but now that I am ready physically, the mental is killing me.

I am up and down like I cannot believe.  And this isn’t just me..This is everyone I know training for Ironman.  Just this morning I have had my phone ringing off the hook, from friends also racing. Emails are flooding in.  Friends are coming into town.  What a great support system we have.  We talked about this on Saturday during a swim, bike and run we did.  So nice to have friends going through the same thing.  ALL of us lean on one another.  And all of us have different concerns, worries, and it is nice to cheer one another along, because you know tomorrow it will be you freaking out.   We have had great BBQ’s together, to take our minds off of things, talk about strategies, have been given great advise from Ironman veterans.  The support has been awesome.  One of my friends last week, cried all day at work, and told her boss she was quitting.  LUCKILY he knew to talk to her, and asked her to wait until AFTER Ironman, to make a decision.  Smart man.

Funny thing is, that we all know, we will be fine.  This is all normal.  The things happening in our bodies....normal.  We have all trained hard for a year, or more.  We will cross the finish line and hear that we are an Ironman.  I know, come Monday morning, next week, we will all gather at Ironman Village as finishers,  with our heavy medal, and our finishers shirts, hats, jackets…and wonder what we were all so crazy about.  We will be sore, and tired, but laughing, and high-spirited knowing we conquered a giant.  And most of us signing up for yet another take at Ironman.  Perhaps we are all certifiable. 

If I looked at myself from an outsiders view, I would most certainly think I need to be locked up today in a straight jacket with a few lithium injections.

Worth the ups and downs?  The crazy taper?  The crying jags, the outbursts that come from no where, the irritable bowels, the puke-y stomach, the weak knees, the pit in the stomach sleepless nights, crabby attitude, aches, pains and jitters?  I would normally say, ask me the day after Ironman…but I can already say, EVERY SINGLE STEP was worth the journey.   Sunday.  June 27^th.  Ironman. 

PS: Ask me in 2 minutes, I may have a different answer.  HAHAHA

TNT Hiawatha Trail Run

After coming off a great week last week, running the CdA ½ marathon, and my last long week of training for Ironman, I thought I would give back a little this weekend.  Our friend, Corey Haustein (also the event organizer of the Hayden View Triathon) was hosting a brand new race for the area.  Called The TNT Hiawatha (Tunnels N Trestles) Trail Run.  A 28.2-mile trail run on the Idaho/Montana border.  I was excited to be apart of this inaugural event.

I have biked this Route of the Hiawatha trail before with my family and it is magnificent.  Through the Bitterroot mountains of Idaho, and Montana on an old abandon rail bed, which spans from the Pacific Northwest all the way to the Midwest.  You wind through some gorgeous country on a fairly flat trail, with a slight grade heading down, climbing back up about 1000 feet towards the finish, passing through several train tunnels and trestles.  The most popular being the Taft Tunnel, which is 1.66 miles in length, tunneling under the Idaho/Montana border.  As you enter the tunnels, you can feel the cool air being breathed out of them.  Total darkness surrounds you, as you make your way through with only the dim light of your headlamp, which is required.  

  

The trestles are spectacular.  Spanning over huge valleys, and gorges. 

The wild life is amazing.  This morning coming to the trailhead we saw a moose having her morning meal.  The deer, and chipmunks were crazy darting everywhere in front of us on the trail.  Some of the brave ones even coming up and eating out of our hands at the aid station.

I was happy to take on my task with Greg of getting on my mountain bike, with our Burly (which hasn’t been used forever, w/out any small kids) and setting up mile marker signs along the course. 

We also worked the last, turn-around aid station along with some of the nicest volunteers I have ever known. 

 We love riding this trail, and every time it just takes my breath away. Massive green pine-treed forest, and snow-capped mountains.  Rivers, streams and waterfalls that seem to come right out of a movie.

  We got markers set up, and helped set up the aid station with pretzels, gummy bears, M&M’s, cookies, potato chips, and drinks, waiting for our runners.  One by one they filed in to refuel, looking great at the ½ way point.  All of them smiling, and commenting on what a beautiful run it had been.  As far as scenery, I don’t think you could get much better than this.

Our friend Brian exiting one of the many tunnels.

At the finish there was lunch, medals, T-shirts and GREAT schwag bags for the runners.  They all did so great!!  The racers had a mix of weather.  A chilly start, sun throughout the early morning, and some light rain towards the end.  It was a well-run race, and I was happy to help. Our friend, put a lot of time and energy into planning this great event, and it was fantastic to see his hard work pay off.

  I hear “rumblings” that there will be another, held possibly in September of this year, which I would LOVE to be a part of again, but this time as a participant.