For an Iron triathlete, I’m a real slacker. In the three weeks since the race I have been sitting around on the couch eating bon-bons (whatever they are) and watching television. Ok, maybe not the last two things, but I have sooooo enjoyed my down time.
I truly did nothing in the way of working out for two weeks, and last week returned to working out half-time. This week marks the return to full training for the next big race, Taupo in March. I’ve also lost my camera so I’m depending on Jesse for his photos.
Last weekend we travelled to east Tennessee for a couple of reasons: to see the Green River Race and to see daughter Glenda compete in the finals for the UT’s Got Talent show.
The race was phenomenal. The drive and hike to the river were an adventure unto themselves, and then to get to see that river and those racers – one of which was our own Curtis England. He was a joy to watch, even if it was a whiteknuckler for us spectators. We got to see Sam run a portion of it too. We’ll try to make this an annual event!
my girls and meKrispy Kreme indulgence stopour viewing zone for the raceJesse and CurtisSam and LaAmes and Mom Sambo!the girls, post-race
On to the talent show. Glenda was up against a magician, two talented break dancers, and one of the best musicians I’ve ever heard. She performed with her LED hoop, followed by her fire hoop and did a great job. The judges thought so too – of the 26,000 students at the University of Tennessee, she’s the man! Or woman! Or hooper! Whatever, she won the competition! She doesn’t really like the focus on the competition part, but she’s terribly grateful for the prize: a professional video to be made of her performances to be used as an audition video to clubs across the country!
The winner in her modified Leeloo costumeoops - another trip to the KK
This weekend we were able to go back to Knoxville for another performance at the homecoming rally, Smoky’s Howl (kind of a pre-homecoming pep rally). She did another great job. On Saturday, we (Jesse, me, Amy, Glenda, Sam, Laura) went to Max Patch with the Mosses and some of the staff of UTOP for an afternoon of remembrance for Robert. He and Amy had gone there a few times and it is truly a beautiful place. We shared some wonderful memories of our precious boy and enjoyed the view and the company.
atop Max PatchpicnicAmy and the Mosses
Later that night we drove into Johnson City, TN, for a campus visit at ETSU. It was a night visit, so we just drove through in the car, but we loved what we saw. They have Amy’s degree, so if all goes well with her acceptance/transfer, she’ll be seeing those mountains every day beginning in January! The buccaneer mascot is a little scary/creepy, but we like things edgy.
scary? or scariest?
Back home again and now getting ready for the big 5-0 birthday/post-iron party. In the mail when I got home was my very weird award for winning my division – a ceramic coffee mug that has race logo and details and division winner on it….mkay. Where’s my cheap-ass plastic trophy?!
But first things first: The Apology. I know this is the first most of you are hearing of this race, because I haven’t been blogging about it. There’s a reason for this. If you recall the Taupo experience, my excitement and anticipation, including all the blogging and friend support, led to my having an anxiety event at the beginning of the swim. In an effort to prevent this from happening again, I tried several things, including keeping this race on the DL. I’ll tell you about the success in the water, but I will say that it was a real loss (for me) not including everyone in the process. So that’s the explanation of this sneak-attack race. I believe this is the only time I’ll have to do that.
Now to the race. It was the Great Floridian Triathlon (trivia tidbit: Ironman is a franchise word, a brand name; there are many Iron-distance races that are prohibited from using the Ironman label – this was one – in this case they called it an Ultra Triathlon). It was held in Clermont, Florida at Lake Minneola. Word to any future racers: do not assume that because the race is located in Florida it is flat. More on that in the bike paragraph. Jesse, Sam, and I drove down here on Thursday to get settled in and registered.
surveying the challenge
So, back to the swim issue. This paragraph is probably more info than you’ll want to read if you’re just trying to get a rundown from the race, but it’s incredibly important to the success I had. Being an emotionally open and adventurous person has served me well my entire life. I will occasionally do a “sensory check” in the middle of a random moment: What am I seeing? hearing? tasting? smelling? I am so greedy about sucking every moment out of life, and I try to stay open to every experience, particularly new ones. This life attitude very seldom feels like it has a downside, but I have come to accept that it was exactly this desire for wide-openness that created the anxiety event in the water at Lake Taupo. So I used a different approach for this race, which, as I explained above, included not broadcasting my attempt, to cut down on the pressure. My informal triathlon coaches, Ali and Liz from the UK (and very dear friends), also suggested limiting my exposure to all the pre-race hype and activity, which I normally would have embraced and participated in. Between that, and a little chemical intervention suggested by another fellow athlete/physician, I approached race day in a completely different manner than I usually do.
So race day started with our 5:30am wakeup call. Race gun was at 7:30, and as I cautiously began my swim, I was as calm as I could be. It feels counterintuitive to the whole “Eye of the Tiger” approach to athletic competitions, but it certainly worked in my case. My swim was a good deal slower than I usually swim, but that was intentional on my part, and I exited the water no worse for the wear after 2.4 miles.
better exit than last timescouting the "Florida" terrain the day before race
Into transition and onto the bicycle. Jesse and Sam and I had driven the course the day before, for which I was grateful, because it prepared me for the hills to come. It was as hilly a course as I’ve ever ridden. I was glad to have spent the 10 days before cycling the Natchez Trace, particularly the hilly northern section. This ride was a 3-loop ride, and I was pretty toasted by the second lap, but off I go on the 3rd, with the knowledge that there is a 6:30pm cutoff for the bike course. No need to magnify the drama, but I rolled across the chip mat into transition at 6:28, with Sam yelling at me about the time (Jesse was in a bar watching the Auburn/LSU game at the time). One more set of clothes, and off to the marathon.
starting the timer for the bike coursestart of a long, long run
Sam, because he spent all last year in New Zealand and that is the custom, never wears shoes. The run course was a 3-loop out and back, and because this race is a little more laid back than Ironman events, allowed support people on the run course. So, yes, Sam ran/walked 8 miles with me BAREFOOT. When we got back off the first lap, Sam took a little 4-mile break and Jesse joined me (the game was over by then), and when Sam rejoined us, he had on his Chacos. So these two guys ran/walked/limped with me the duration of the race. We crossed the finish line at 1:00 Sunday morning in a huge victory for me!!
I am as tired as I look in this picture
We gathered my gear/bike/clothes, threw them in the back of the minivan and cruised back to the hotel, where I showered and collapsed, Jesse showered and collapsed, and Sam collapsed in his clothes and dirty feet while waiting for the shower. In the light of this morning we surveyed the damage. I am sore all over – even my hair feels like it hurts. My top pains: the bicycle booty, my quads, my blistered feet, my sunburned back, my clavicles from resting 8 hours on the aerobars, and gluteus minimus – the underlying glutes deep in the hips. Jesse, who only had his worn out sneakers on, has blisters the size of a credit card on the balls of both feet. Sam’s feet, which are gnarly anyway, are beaten and raw. Neither of them had been training to run or walk anywhere near this distance, so they are pretty sore in the marathon areas – butt and quads.
Jesse's horrible feet blisters
Now we’re headed back home, where I’ll take a few days off, then jump right back into training for the next race: Lake Taupo Revisit in March. I’ll look for some shorter races in the interim, but racing season is really March – October in the Northern hemisphere.
Thanks for reading, and in advance for understanding my need to handle this race this way. I think I’ll be able to share at least the dates of future races, if not every little detail!
Huge thanks to Jesse and Sam for all the support, both pre-, during, and post-race. I’ve got to get Sam in the pool for some swim practice….no ulterior motive.
Since Amy has my camera, and I haven’t yet replaced it, I’ve got to extract the pictures from Big Jesse’s. I want to go ahead and post the story, and I’ll come back and add pictures (the one of Jesse’s feet is spectacular, as is the one of the roach in the hotel room, so check back).
disgusting palmetto roach in the hotel room (and Sam's face)
My ass is hamburger. My quads are blown. My lips are chapped.
I had a fabulous time!
What a great ride this was! To recap (as opposed to capping), we left with 9 adventurers from the Jordan Dude Farm on Wednesday night at midnight, drove all night to Natchez, Mississippi where we started riding on Thursday.
Our riding days varied from 55 to 105 miles, and we rode for 6 days, finishing this afternoon in the only rain we saw on the whole trip at the Loveless Cafe in Nashville. The UT kids had planted their cars at the Sunday night spot because they had to return to class on Monday, and our Murfreesboro friend Casey joined us on Saturday.
The Trace has no commercial traffic, so no trucks, and not too much sightseeing traffic. Speed limit is 50, so what little traffic there was was very manageable. It was a tad warm in southern Mississippi, but evenings were cool. Most meals were campground type – brats over the fire, and we ate in towns a couple of times.
Of course we had both dogs with us; you’ll have to ask Jesse personally about his experience with Uga. They are such a part of Team Fly, and they know the bus routine pretty well.
Now hear this: we had such a great time, and with the realization that MTSU Fall Break is next Monday and Tuesday, we’re gonna try to get a group together to DO. IT. AGAIN. (It helps make my, Jesse’s, and Sam’s bicycling addiction look a little more legit).
If you are reading this blog and have ever thought about trying bicycle touring, THIS is your opportunity. The bus leapfrogs ahead 10-20 miles at a time, and anytime you are fatigued, you just hop on the bus for a bit! Beg, borrow, or steal a bike (and helmet), pull together the $75 bus fee, tell your boss/clients/family you’ll be back Tuesday night, and come on! Can I promise you when you are rocking your grandchildren you won’t be saying to them “I sure wish I hadn’t done that spectacular bike ride back in ’10”??
Again, sorry about the pictures – daughter Amy NEEDED a camera (hers broke) and Mommy was in her line of whining. I guess I’ll have to replace mine by Friday.
Jesse is blogging too, with pictures at http://www.crazyguyonabike.com. We’re also putting pics on our Facebook pages, so check there too.
So tired I can hardly move, and can’t wait til Friday.
We are having such a good time! We are in Toshimingo, Mississippi, at the Toshimingo State Park. Today was a 75-mile day all up in this state.
Unfortunately, we had to say goodbye to the UT crew – we were glad to have them for the 4 days, and we can’t fault them for needing to attend class tomorrow! That leaves 6 of us – Big Jesse and me, Sam, Curtis, Casey, and Charles. We have only 2 days of riding left, and then it’s back to reality.
Today was a smidge warmer than we would have chosen, but it’s as clear and dry as can be. The terrain has gotten a bit more hilly, but even those are long, gentle rollers. We should see a bit more elevation tomorrow, and we end up at Meriwether Lewis State Park for the overnight.
Amy Jordan has absconded with my camera, so no current pics – I’ll try to add a couple from the first four days just for interest:
Safely in camp at Witch Dance (real campground – look it up), about 40 miles south of Tupelo.
Today Casey Baes joined us and Jordan Taylor left us – Casey had class at MTSU on Friday, and Jordan is a responsible employee and had to work.
Today was a 73-mile day over pretty flat terrain. It’s very scenic along the Trace – no commercial development, mostly sight-seeing traffic, gentle rolling inclines. We stopped at a harvest festival in French Camp – watched them make sorghum molasses – and had a taste on a biscuit – oh, joy!
We’ve had several good views of the Old Trace – a sunken trail that was a game trail, then a Native American trail, then a goods transport trail, and is now sunken 10 feet below ground level from use in some areas.
Mexican food in Kioskusco (??)Sam's riding partnerBoo on the back deckPace Line
We are having such a good time. The mornings start out cool, and we have a camper’s breakfast of bacon and eggs and coffee. Then we get in about 20 miles while the bus leapfrogs ahead and waits. (We drivers take turns driving sections) Then we snack and re-Gatorade at the bus, switch out drivers, and off we go for another 20 or so.
Tonight’s dinner was brats and sauerkraut and mac and cheese, and it was delicious. Lunches have generally been on the bus – deli meats and cheeses, pb and j, etc. Tomorrow we’ll lunch in Tupelo, just off the Trace, and dinner remains a mystery.
Please do this ride. We’ll probably do it again next year at fall break, and it would be easy to join us for Saturday and Sunday, even if you couldn’t do the whole thing.
This is evening Two on the ride, with evening One being last night in Rocky Springs, and the pre-evening spent driving on the big bus from Nashville to Natchez, Mississippi.
The weather: flawless. The route: perfect. The company: incomparable.
There are 9 of us (until tomorrow when Brother Casey shows up), and we’re having a fab time.
Natchez, Mississippi (or as the locals say: Missippi)Estrogen contingent - Jordan girlsMy scenery for most of the daySam's approach on the recumbentthe soft gooey insides have been eaten, leaving behind the crunchy shell outsidenot impressive until you realize we are both going about 25 mph!end of the second day - a century day
Jesse and Sam will blog much more technical stuff at the blog “Crazy Guy on a Bike” — I’ll post the link when I get it from them.
Right now we are in Koscuisko, Miss (allegedly Oprah Winfrey’s hometown) where everyone is taking post-ride showers and we head into town to a Mexican joint for beer and food. Last night was brats and kraut at the campsite. Breakfast was bacon and eggs and coffee and it was wonderful.
This is so different from Ragbrai for lots of reasons, both for the good and bad. It’s nice having the cool nights and warm afternoons, we miss having constant access to food, it’s also nice having quiet at bedtime.
Just having a great time altogether – as I have been writing this, bugs have accumulated on my screen and I am up to 8 — starting to gross me out, so I’ll sign off and promise to add more later!
One of the things on my list of 50 at 50 was having a lime gimlet with an actual British person. I wikied the word to find out the history of the drink, and while I’ll list a couple of interesting things about the drink, it’s worth clicking on the link for the whole story, plus a couple of suggested recipes.
My bartender made it with Hendrick’s Gin (which, as he knew, would instantly become my favorite, albeit it pricey, gin) and Rose’s Sweetened Lime Juice. Some recipes suggest a simple syrup and actual lime juice, but I was pleased with the Rose’s. I’ll try a low-carb version at some point, but I’ll use the Rose’s til it’s gone. Sam mixed it about half-and-half, maybe a touch more gin, shaken over ice, served over ice. It was as cool and refreshing as it sounds, and is now in my top 5 favorite drinks, maybe even displacing my go-to gin and tonic.
Beautiful Hendrick's bottle
This post is primarily to describe marking that event off my list, but I’ll also use it to catch up a bit. Sam’s visit to the US has ended and he’s back off the England to begin his master’s degree at Bristol. Glenda is missing him fiercely, but has plans to visit England again for Christmas for the 3rd year in a row.
They made it home for a visit last weekend to see Aden’s fall festival at John Pittard Elementary School. There was face-painting, jumpy things, cake-walking, and all the crap to eat that you would expect at a fall festival. Aden said it was a Great Friday, and we all agreed!
yes, that's a pilot costumeAfter she finished (it was a spider), he said he really wanted it on the other cheek
The next day our precious Emily Potts came over for breakfast; Glenda and I had been wanting her to meet Sam for two years! She was totally NOT fangirly over our very own Harry Potter (you can’t quite see the scar drawn on her forehead and her Neville shirt). Emily makes everything an instant party, and we kept her from going home to help hubby John clean the house all morning.
Q T Pies
The next weekend was son Sam’s birthday, so we had 3/4 of the kids home then. (We missed you Ben.)
Sam with his gift from his sisters, brother, and Sam M
And now, because it’s my blog and I can, here are two of Glenda’s recent watercolors (I think brother Ben commissioned her for one of them):
Lastly, a few pics of the Freedom of Religion Rally in Murfreesboro. Seriously, citizens, this is a no-brainer. Freedom of Religion means every religion, not just the ones you like and understand.
It has taken me a few days after finishing this book to take the moment to review it. I usually do that; it gives me time to think about what I want to write, and, as in this case, it gives me time to emotionally recover from the impact the book has had on me.
Ayaan Hirsi Ali
This is Ayaan Hirsi Ali. She was born in Somalia, and grew up there and in Saudi Arabia, Ethiopia, and Kenya. The first half of her book, Infidel, introduces the reader to her brother, sister, mother, father, and the environment in which she spent her childhood/adolescence. It is a tough read, and I found myself having to limit how much I could take in one sitting. She underwent the worst of what you would imagine it would be like to grow up in a repressive, poor, religiously fundamental culture. I won’t spend much time reviewing this part of the book, but understand the second half wouldn’t be what it is without the first.
As a young adult, she was married (she wasn’t present at her wedding) to a cousin of her father’s choosing, and on her way to Canada to live with him, she sought asylum in the Netherlands. It was there she began to question the foundations of beliefs she had been indoctrinated with. She was troubled with reconciling how clean and functional the country was in spite of the fact that it was secular, and memories of her own home countries. She also observed women in a free society, and was moved by the parenting of a friend with small children who was patient and nurturing, instead of violent and condemning.
Her description of riding a bicycle for the first time made me cry. She writes about taking off her robe, putting on “oversized men’s trousers” and feeling the wind in her face and the elation of freedom of movement. It was just a paragraph in this book with a long list of remarkable events, but it touched me beyond my ability to convey.
She eventually graduated from college, became a member of Dutch Parliament, and became an outspoken critic of Islam, and a supporter of women’s rights. She made a short film with Theo Van Gogh, a Dutch filmmaker, which is disturbingly beautiful:
Tragically, Van Gogh was killed by an Islamic fanatic, and pinned with a knife to his chest was a death threat for Hirsi Ali as well. She has since moved to the United States, and of course, lives with constant security concerns. After having read this book, I googled her name and watched every video interview with her. She is articulate and gracious and beautiful and fiercely independent, perhaps a throwback to her clan of birth, a clan that was born to rule. She is smart and warm and funny, and she is one of my personal champions.
I highly recommend this book. While you read about horrific events that occurred in the life of this woman, the writing remains straightforward and concise. She neither overplays nor underplays the trauma in her life, and I can’t imagine reading this without being moved by both the importance of this book, and the character of the author.
As always, if you do choose to read it, please let me know: discussing books is a joy and a privilege for me, and I’ll also reciprocate with whatever book you recommend! (and yes, I’m including my conservative friends and the Sarah Palin book – which will have to be a Reciprocal Read pact, cuz I’m not reading it otherwise!)
Not much to the lead-in for this blog: climbing a 14er with Ben was on the list of 50. Every time he and I chat we look at the week or 10 days ahead of us to see if anything works with our schedules, and on Saturday when we chatted, we came up with something that worked! Surprised us both, but we found a little window when he was out of school, I could make it out, and the availability of flights cooperated. So Tuesday afternoon I headed out to Denver, via Atl, and arrived around 6:00. Ben’s girl, Kirsten, picked me up at the airport and we drove to meet Ben just east of the Eisenhower tunnel off of 70.
Anyone see anything wrong with this pic? I had this in Denver waiting for Kirsten. Ben texted me NOT to drink - after I'd had almost all of the glass.Sweet Kirsten, architect graduate student extraordinaire
Kirsten headed back to Denver, and Ben and I headed up a gravel road to the start point (in his 4-wheel drive Tracker, which was necessary). He set up the tent, and after I wrapped up in most of the clothes I brought, we slept for a few hours.
My sherpa
The alarm went off around 5, and we set about breaking camp, stuffing stuff sacks, filling camelbaks, and Ben even fixed us a mountaineer breakfast of coffee and oatmeal. Ben’s a fellow foodie, and had half and half and organic sugar for the coffee, and cranberries, cinnamon, and sliced almonds for the oatmeal.
happy hikers
We headed out of the parking lot around 6, just as it was getting light. It’s only fair at this point to tell you that our base camp was at 11,000 feet – but don’t be so quick to be unimpressed – it’s still a 3,000 foot climb to the first summit. When you begin, you are in a little valley, and can only see the faces of the mountains closest to you. As you ascend, more and more peaks peek their tips out into your field of vision. It’s as if the panorama unfolds in a reward for all your climbing effort.
First rays of sunshine on the peaks - that's Gray's peak on the left, and you can barely see Torrey's peak on the right, in the sunshine
See the saddle shape on that ridge between the two peaks in the sunshine? We first plan to ascend Gray’s peak on the left, then drop onto the ridge and hike it over and up to Torrey’s peak.
both peaks, closer, more sunshine, but still hours away
Ben entertained me as we hiked the elevation with tales about hiking up/skiing down these peaks in the winter. On the outside I was the cool, hip mom urging him on, celebrating his adrenaline fix, and on the inside my insides were the baking-soda-vinegar-5th-grade-volcano-science-project. It’s not easy being me.
On the really rugged part of the climb
Because these peaks are so close to Denver, and because there are two so close together, and because it’s nearing the end of the hiking season, this trail was rather busy. There were probably 20-25 other hikers on this trail, everyone smiling and good-humored, if panting and straining. There are 54-58 14ers in Colorado (any guesses why there is a disparity in the number? No fair google-cheating – you can figure this one out), and it is a common goal to summit them all, whether you are a Colorado resident or not. Ben has 11 or so. Guess how many 13,000 foot peaks there are? Over 700. He’s a little more interested in hiking the Centennial 100, or the 100 highest 13ers, because they are a lot less crowded, and a lot less developed (translation: more of a challenge).
I'm a 14er!!!
So we hike and switchback and turn and hike and switchback and rest and hike and then….the peak!! We made it!
Signing the official registry
It was awfully gusty while we were at the peak, and we came close to choosing to turn around and go back down. Then we looked at one another and said, “Oh, HELL no!”, at about the same time, so off we went, wind gusts and all.
View from the topView of Gray's from Torrey's - you can see the switchbacks if you look closely!
The trip down was much quicker, of course, and we were back at the car by 3. We had a post-hike beer that was delicious, and then hit the tostitoes for the drive back to Denver. We got to have a dinner with Kirsten at a very cool Italian place in her area of town. After that, it was a quick trip to the airport and 36 hours after the trip began, I’m home!
Ben and remarked several times while we were hiking how very fortunate we are to have this trip come together like it did. We both had to have the window of time, the flights had to work, the weather had to cooperate…and for this trip, we got them all!
Now here’s the part of the blog where I go off about my kid, so if you’ve read too many of these from this web address, you may be excused.
I’m in love with this boy/man. I love to make him smile, I love to hear him laugh. I absolutely love how his mind works and how he thinks. I love to hear him rant about religion, and I love to hear him describe skiing among those hills. I love his funny stories about his crazy-ass skiing friends, and customers he’s had in the restaurant. Watching him love on a pup that someone brought on the climb nearly brought me to tears. I want to give him everything – all the toys he wants, all the gear he needs, all the trips he wants to take. I love how he’s going back to college, and the enthusiasm he has found for that. I love seeing my little boy in the face of this grown man.
Ben, thank you for this trip. Thanks for helping your mom achieve one of the things on her 50 list. I’ll never forget it – our predawn breakfast, our conversations, the moment on the drive down when we were both laughing so hard you had to pull the car over til we stopped.
Peak pic
Do I need to even describe how sore I am? Thighs, calves, quads, glutes, back – so exquisitely sore I really can’t move without groaning. Back to working out tomorrow, so technically I only missed today.
Happy. Healthy. Heathen. 
