If At First You Don't Succeed

… try, try again (or in my case, tri, tri again).  Coming into this season, I had some pretty lofty goals.  While I was able to meet and even exceed my expectations in some aspects, another was a bit harder to grasp.  It seemed that try as I might, that elusive pro card was just out of my reach as I oh so narrowly missed the mark or had circumstance change that mark four separate times.  The frosting was completed on my proverbial cake when I received notice from USAT that my finish at Lifetime Minneapolis would not count as a qualifier (due to the course change) a mere 36 hours after a disappointing finish at Hyvee.  I had a good cry, took a deep breath, and accepted that it simply wasn’t my time.  My season was over and it was time to reevaluate my goals … or was it?

Later that week, I opened my mailbox to an invitation to the Toyota Triple Crown Championship (the Lifetime Tri series final) in Oceanside, CA.  At first I all but dismissed the possibility; as I am still an intern, I have less than no money and couldn’t foresee getting myself to California as a possibility.  However, I talked to Coach Mace and we decided I would continue training as though I would be doing the race.  On a whim I sent letters to a few local businesses requesting sponsorship for the event.  A few weeks later, I had all but given up hope when I found yet another surprise in my mailbox: a generous sponsorship from Kelley Country Creamery (on Hwy B in Fond du Lac) to help cover airfare.  Friends on the west coast offered up their couches and cars (thanks Amanda, Gordo, Scott, and Tyler) and suddenly everything started falling into place: the race was on.

Thank you Kelley Country Creamery!!!

As game day approached, I noticed a different feel than I had in previous events.  More than anything, I set a goal of having fun rather than achieving a certain position and felt more relaxed and confident than I ever have for a race before.  The fun of the event was only bolstered by sunny southern California and some quality time with an old friend (Amanda) and a new one (Gordo).

Great to see my Salzburg roomie Amanda

My support crew for the weekend - thanks Gordo!

All the fun and smiles came to a jolting conclusion, however, with a simple observation from a fellow racer as we tread at the start line, “Hey, look at the fog coming in.”  And come in it did.  I have never been so completely and utterly lost in the water as the buoys were impossible to see.  The first half was a mess as kayakers did their best to point us in the right direction.  Fortunately by the time I hit the turnaround, the volunteers had worked out a system of guiding packs between the buoys and I made it safely to transition.  While my swim time was substantially slower than anticipated, everyone else in the amateur waves had the same issue (pro’s got out just as the fog rolled in) and I managed to post the fastest female split of the day. 

Swim start: see the fog juuuuuust starting to roll in

On the bike, life became truly miserable.  I have never been so painfully cold in my life.  The air temperature was in the mid-40s and the fog/mist kept me soaking wet (so much for that beautiful California weather).  My jaw hurt from shivering and my upper body was completely rigid, I couldn’t even see straight I was so cold (I even cried because that’s what I do when I’m cold).  At one point, I very strongly contemplated dropping out of the race.  However, a little voice deep in my heart screamed out, “NO, NOT TODAY! THIS IS MY DAY!”  Mind over matter was the name of the game and I found a new level of mental strength that I didn’t know I was capable of.  Instead of giving in, I pushed harder with the one solace that the harder I pushed the sooner I’d be out warming up on the run course. 

Off for a chilly, chilly ride

After my helmet off and my run shoes on with my stiff fingers, I took off out of transition (at this point neck and neck for second/third).  My feet were numb but I focused on staying ahead of the girl breathing down my neck and gave into the song in my head (Britney Spears telling me to “Work B@#%*”).  After two miles, my extremities began to thaw and I realized I had another level left.  I picked up the pace and before long I could see the back of first place getting closer and closer; Gordo saw me at right about this point and later commented that it was the first time he saw me crack a smile.   Over and over I told myself, “This is my time, this is my day,” passing first place and never looking back.  As I crossed the finish line, my emotions of a year’s disappointment and a moment’s total joy collided head on as I simultaneously began to laugh and cry; I had finally done it. 

Women's Podium

It hasn’t yet sunk in that I’ve qualified to race as a professional triathlete.  I am both excited and a little nervous about the possibilities held by the future.  Next season is going to be tough and I’m going to have to get used to being a little fish in a really big pond.  But for now, I am allowing myself to appreciate all that I have worked for and accomplished this season.  Soon it will be time to hit the pavement (and the pool and the trainer) with even more intensity.  But for now, it is time to sit back and simply smile.  

Welcome to the off season

The Upside of Terrible

Last weekend was spectacular; my nearest and dearest from college came up for the weekend and good times were had by all.  I was uncharacteristically lax for a few days and presented with brats, cheese, guac, and peanut butter brownies (to my credit at least they were gluten free), my typical eating habits went right out the window.  Come Sunday, I was so laden with sodium and high fructose corn syrup that my heart rate was a solid 30 bpm higher than usual and every part of my body – from my face to my digits – was swollen.  Monday and Tuesday were met with even more awfulness; my belt rested 2 notches larger than normal and I could barely stomach half of my typical caloric intake.  My 2 mile run felt like starting from mile 24 of the marathon and splits on my Tuesday morning swim were nearly 10 seconds slower than usual (yes – 10 seconds per 100).  Finally, midway through my Tuesday evening track workout (over 48 hours after the last of my buddies had walked out the door), the sugar hangover lifted and I suddenly felt like me again.

Throughout the first part of the week, I really beat myself up over my weekend consumption.  About Wednesday, however, I realized just how incredible it was that I had felt so terrible for those few days.  Noting such a horrible feeling means that not only am I highly attuned to my body, but also that this was not a normal state of being for me.  Looking back, I can now see that when I was unfit and overweight I spent years of my life feeling so consistently bad that I accepted it as the status quo.  I did not realize how awful I felt until I didn't feel that way anymore. 

Often times, life can be highly reflective of this sentiment.  It is not unusual to allow a crummy state of being as acceptable.  Maybe it’s staying at a much hated job and telling yourself that everyone hates their job; maybe it’s riding out a nasty relationship with the excuse that all relationships have their flaws; maybe it’s sitting on the couch day in and day out because complacency is more comfortable than change; maybe it’s accepting continued unhappiness as ok or normal.  If we don’t acknowledge what is wrong and believe that we are deserving of something better, it can never be fixed. 

So where am I going with this?  It is a blessing to have a bad day every now and again.  A notably horrible day at work probably means that most days are pretty great; being upset over a fight with your mate means it probably doesn’t happen very often; having a down day means most days are sunny; and feeling completely disconnected from your body for a few days after a glutton-fest means that 99% of the time, you take pretty stinkin good care of yourself.  Living a positive life is no easy task; it takes work to find a job you love, an effort to be a happy person, or, in my case, a strong will to avoid the cheese curds and chocolate cake.  

Love life my friends, live it to the fullest: and work your butt off to be happy and healthy darn it! 

Eh, It's Just a Bike Crash

A few weeks ago I posted a blog about relaxing and going with the flow, about my races seeking to go better when something went a little wrong.  Apparently I should be careful what I wish for as approximately three hours later I found myself disoriented and bleeding in the middle of a country road after flipping over my handlebars for no apparent reason.  This was my first bike crash (other than tipping over in my parking lot or falling off the trainer) and I was a mere six days out from USAT Age Group Nationals.  Lovely. 

Anyway, after finding myself on the pavement I took care of the important things in the following order: 1. Stopped my watch, 2. Gave my bike a once over, 3. Messaged my coach, and lastly 4. Checked myself for any major damage.  I had landed straight on my face and head then rolled so the right side of my face banged up, road rash on right shoulder and left knee, and a good bruise coming in on my right quad from hitting my aero bars as I went over.  My head was feeling a bit foggy but fortunately nothing seemed to be broken (except my helmet) – yes, because I’m a big weirdo athlete I was relieved to realize my face had taken the brunt of things (three weeks later I’ve established that I probably chipped my chin but it’s not deformed so oh well).  After resigning that I wouldn’t be riding the 15 miles home I called my dad who was up on the boat but arranged a pickup for me (thank you to Gerry and Cheryl Meyer – always good to know the church family of my youth still has my back).  Despite the fact that I’m fairly certain I got a minor concussion, I decided against wasting time and money on a hospital trip and spent the rest of the evening icing and relaxing (yes, I repeatedly checked my pupils and made sure to stay awake for like seven hours). 

To be honest, the next few days sucked.  I was disoriented for about 36 hours and about the sorest I’ve ever been.  Fortunately, I was able to maintain my normal training schedule as taper and recovery melded well.  My spectacular father took Maureen in and all fixed up by the awesome crew at Attitude Sports; fortunately she was uninjured and only needed some minor tweaks.  By Wednesday, I was running again (even if it felt like my quad was going to fall off the bone) and by Thursday the aching had mostly subsided. 

It was a busy and fun weekend with Ian flying in Wednesday and Hannah coming Thursday from Arizona.  On Friday, we loaded up and headed down to Milwaukee for some course recon and packet pickup.  Boy oh boy, it’s awesome having a big race so close to home; I think not having to travel more than an hour basically made up for any crash damage.  As an added bonus, I had the opportunity to meet my hero Chrissie Wellington – a lady who’s overcome much worse crashes than I had!  Ian and I stayed with my cousin Jacqueline very close to the race site which made for a relaxing Friday night and a very fun Saturday. 

Swim Recon

Getting some inspiration from the great Chrissie Wellington!

Come race morning, I was surprisingly relaxed.  My quad was still giving me grief and my right shoulder was hurting but I knew it was nothing I couldn’t handle.  I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day and the course was pretty stinkin awesome.  Long story short, I had a pretty great race.  There were some rubber band issues with my T1 but that’s about the only issue.  I got out of the water in about 18th age group, and off the bike somewhere around 10th.  That’s when the fun began.  Slowly but surely, I started picking off ladies, especially in the final two miles.  For someone who’s “not a runner” it was great to finally realize that I am; that I am stronger than I once thought.  In the end I finished 4^th in the 25 – 29 division and 8^th overall; what an improvement from last year! 

Thanks for everything Mom and Dad!

Clearly I'm more rested than Ian at this point (my race was almost an hour before his)

Basking in our post race glory

I was slightly disappointed after realizing that I was a mere 18 seconds from top 5 overall, wondering if a better transition or lack of crash might have made all the difference.  However, as I said before, no one ever has a perfect race and that was just how my cards fell.  I’ve improved so much in the last year.  I have improved dramatically and it’s not over yet.  While I hate to see my tri season draw to a close, I’m excited for my final multisport race in Des Moines next weekend at the Hyvee Championship.  We’ll see what happens if I can keep from crashing and wear the proper shoes all in one race!

Many thanks to Jacqueline, my parents, Ian, and Hannah for sitting through the epicly long awards ceremony

I like podiums

Racing Rasta

Don’t worry be happy: so easy to say so hard to live by.  You can be kind and call it “Type A” or be honest and say high strung, neurotic, or anal retentive; but no matter how you word it, stressed out has typically been my racing style (especially for the big ones).  However, a series of events, unfortunate and otherwise, this season has had me rethinking my approach. 

Last month I drove up to Minnesota to race Lifetime Minneapolis.  This had been slotted as a big race for me with some heavy competition and the potential of earning a pro card.  I became nervous four days before the event when I noticed that one of my glands was swollen – usually a sign that I am coming down with a cold.  As the weekend approached, I continued to swell until Friday when I woke up with a visible lump on the right side of my neck and face.  I had stayed with my aunt the night before at the halfway point so I made a quick stop in urgent care before heading up where I was told that it was probably just an irritation and to not worry too much.  After popping far too many ibuprofen and meeting up with a few former teammates (Evan Koenig, Chris Leiferman, and Kyle Bevers) I felt a bit better but still not great.  Morning came with an even larger face and an unexpected deviation from the weather forecast.  It was raining and storming so hard I drove to the race site with white knuckles.  The entire area was flooded and heavy lightning prompted race directors to delay the start and encourage everyone to wait in their cars.  Once we were allowed to enter transition, I set transition wet and shivering clad in a garbage bag.  Before long we were informed that the Olympic distance bike course was under water and the event was changing to a sprint.  The pro field, however, would have a slightly longer swim than the amateurs, meaning the race was no longer a pro qualifier.  Suddenly the pressure was off.  While I could have been upset I made the conscious decision to have fun in the race and take it for what it was.  Low and behold, I came in as the third overall female – not too shabby considering that within the next 36 hours I was in the emergency room as my face and neck swelled out of control (turned out to be an infected salivary gland in case you’re curious)!

Finish line smiles in Minnesota

Illness kept me from training for the next several days and from doing anything substantial for a full week.  Eager to get back into it, I had a tough but solid week of training the next week leading up to Giant Eagle Triathlon in Columbus, OH (a training race for me).  I won’t bore you with details but to summarize: I stayed with my friend Margaret in the Chicago area Friday night (staying up entirely too late chatting – oops), forgot about the time change and got into Columbus later than expected, dealt with some nutty situations at the expo (including being followed and having our ears talked off by a strange man and an enormous plastic colon for children to play in), had to get poor Ian’s bike fixed (I swear he’s cursed), didn’t have a chance to ride/run on the course or to swim, and took the risk of eating grocery store sushi for dinner after realizing how late it had gotten and that there was nothing else without wheat in the deli.  All of this led to a much later than desired bed time which was followed by fairly interrupted sleep (we were on the same floor as a wedding party – oy).  In the morning, we jammed out while eating breakfast and then walked down to T2 from our incredibly conveniently located hotel.  As it was a two transition race, we set up T2 (in the dark) before boarding busses to T1.  Once arriving at the race start, we were relatively crunched for time so I quickly set up transition and went for a brief warmup run.  As I started stripping down to get my wetsuit on I looked at my feet for the first time since I had tried on my shoes to make sure everything felt right while setting up T2 … and realized I had two different shoes on – one racing shoe and one training shoe.  It quickly sunk in that this fact meant that the same combination of shoes was waiting for me in T2 and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.  I couldn’t help myself but laugh.  While historically any ONE of these pre-race details would have freaked me out, the low pressure mindset of the race allowed me to stay relaxed and anxiety free.  So what happened in my race? I not only won the amateur field but I posted a 10k PR, breaking 40 minutes for the first time!

Oops

Ian showing off his orangutan arms at our post-race adventure to the Columbus zoo

("Whoa, do you have a unicorn on your shirt?!" - quote from a small ginger child)

Throughout my eight hour drive back to Wisconsin the next day I had a lot of time to reflect on the peaks and valleys of my season thus far and noticed a pretty obvious trend.  At my B/C races (Havasu, Capitol View, Lifetime, and Giant Eagle) where I didn’t put too much stress on myself I had great races and met or exceeded my goals.  However, at my high pressure A races where I made an effort to ensure everything was perfect (unending thank you’s and apologies to Ian for putting up with me for both of these races), I was extremely disappointed in my results.  While I considered that this may have been a natural consequence of having had loftier goals at these races, I don’t think that is the reality; I had still set the bar pretty high at the other ones, I just wasn’t as worried about the details.  Instead, the hard truth is that at the big ones I let my anxiety get the best of me and I cracked under the pressure.  In hindsight I can say that a big part of me gave up as soon as things weren’t perfect and I wasn't exactly where I wanted to be.  I didn't dig as deeply as I could have because my heart was saying, “Oh well, it’s already ruined.” 

So now I have a new goal and it is probably the greatest challenge I’ve taken on in this sport yet: change my attitude.  As I approach my next two big races (Age Group Nats and Hyvee Chamionship) I’m doing my best to be fully prepared but to then trust my training and to, more than anything, go with the flow.  I have never had a “perfect” race and probably never will – I don’t think anyone ever has.  It’s time to remember how much I love this sport and to enjoy whatever it throws at me.  To quote the rasta man himself, “Don’t worry ‘bout a thing, every little thing is gonna be all right.” 

Staying relaxed pre-race in Columbus with a little dance party

- new tradition perhaps?

**The title of this post does not indicate that the author of this blog or her affiliates support the use of illicit or performance enhancing drugs legal or otherwise in or out of competition. 

Things Don't Always Go as Planned: Rev3 Williamsburg Race Report

Well, you win some you lose some – one of the beauties of life I suppose.  This past  weekend I participated in the half iron distance tri at Rev3 Williamsburg, this was a big race for me as the pro prize purse allowed it to be designated as an elite qualifying race.  Having had a month off since school ended and the past two weeks to just relax with Ian in Virginia Beach, I felt very strong going into the race; everything just felt like it was falling into place.  When race morning arrived, I felt very ready to go.  I had a new (to me) bike computer, my nutrition was well planned out, my bike was ready, and I had a plan for the entire race. 

Unfortunately things do not always go as planned.  Before I start, I need to state that I am not blaming my end result on anything I am about to state - I have never had a race go perfectly as planned so I cannot imagine anyone else's do either.  It all comes down to how we deal with the cards we are dealt on race day and I did not deal overly well.  

To begin, the swim was a bit rough to say the least.  The race began with a beach start in an area where the water did not reach knee depth for about 30-40 yards and was not waist deep (even on me) for at least 100.  This format resulted in many of the athletes opting to wade out into the water for several minutes before beginning to swim.  Further, there was a delayed start and consequently condensed sendoff times.  These two factors resulted in a perfect storm of four waves of athletes converging at once at the first turn buoy about 400 yards into the race; I had to all but crawl over a mess of at least 100 athletes converging within a 10 foot radius of the buoy before being able to swim again.  Once free, it was a fight against was and a cross-current forcing me to sight about every four strokes.  That said, I swam smart and gave it my all despite being broiled from inside my seal suit (the water was about 77.9 degrees – barely wetsuit legal) and was pleasantly surprised to be told I was in the lead position coming out of the water (despite a time nearly six minutes slower than I had expected).

Transition started well but I hadn't accounted for running my bike over some fairly bumpy grass and the banana pieces I had attached to my bike somehow flew off leaving me down two rounds of race nutrition.  On the bike, I quickly realized that my bike computer wasn’t working so I was without distance and speed data.  Fortunately, I was still on a high over being in the lead and was able to keep from panicking and recalibrate my nutrition plan.  Though the course was much more rolling and a bit more technical than the I expected, the ride was overall very lovely and fun to ride.  After passing a pro athlete about fifteen miles in, I started to get visions of myself not in third as I had hoped but instead on top of the podium – bad idea.  Not long after, I was passed for the first time.  I did my best to keep the gap at a minimum but eventually decided it was best to not ruin my run legs chasing after another cyclist. 

Around mile 25 I experienced my next nutritional difficulty.  I had split my Powerade between two bottles and watered it down meaning I was carrying two full bottles with the plan of picking one more up along the course.  However, when it came time to delve into my second bottle, I managed to break the nozzle and drop it.  Crap.  By the time I reached the aid station a bit past mile 35, I was parched and starting to feel light headed.  I had a perfect hand-up only to find the bottle I received was all but child locked and I spilt half of it in my attempt to open the bottle itself which meant I had a half bottle of water to get me through the next 20 miles.  Other than that, things were going fairly well until about mile 50 when I nearly hit a deer and was overtaken by another woman bringing me into third place.  Needless to say, I was beyond relieved when I finally saw transition approaching ahead of me. 

Out on the run, all started fairly well; I was maintaining my goal pace and gaining time on the women ahead of me.  While I was definitely hurting, there was still a smile on my face until right around mile 8 when it all fell apart.  Despite taking in a few gels and grabbing water at every aid station, I bonked pretty hard and my splits became dramatically slower.  While I was still gaining on the leaders, the amount of gain had become marginal and the woman behind me was coming up fast.  I held on as hard as I could, but with about .3 miles of the 70.3 mile race left to go, I was overtaken and slipped into fourth. 

Crossing the finish line, I was too delirious to be devastated.  A fancy wheelchair trip into the med tent uncovered that I was extremely dehydrated and had a body temperature of 103 degrees.  I was quickly put into an enormous ice bath and an IV was stuck into my arm.  Before long, I was physically feeling good enough for the tears to come.  More than anything I felt disbelief; in a race that neared five hours, I missed my dream by a mere 28 seconds. 

I’ve gotten used to letting my body heal after a race but this past week I also had to allow space for my mind and my heart to heal.  The thing is, I have faced disappointment before.  While I never see it in the moment, every time I have faced failure or heartbreak it has lead me on a path of something so much better.  I am confident that what is meant to happen will happen when it is meant to happen.  There are many lessons to be learned through failure.  For example, I know there are small tweaks in my nutrition, sleep, training, and recovery that I have let slide in the past – there’s nothing like a 28 second margin to inspire you to address them.  Though my ego is still a bit bruised (hey, maybe my ego was the lesson), I am more determined than ever and I just keep pushing forward!

Fun little transition coincidence

Finish line - the face of misery

Accepting my 1st place age group award - not what I wanted but still got some pretty good swag

Ian as third place overall in the olympic distance!!!

*Side note: Congrats to teammate Chris Leiferman on his fourth place finish in his pro 70.3 debut!

First First

I’ve come in second, third, and (most painfully) fourth several times and I’ve racked up a few division wins.  However, for nearly three years, that pesky overall win has eluded me.  That finally changed at the Capitol View Tri in Madison Sunday morning when I finally crossed that finish line to the sweet sound of an announcer saying, “And here comes our first Olympic distance female.” 

This was a super fun race for me.  It was my first event in Wisconsin since my very first race and my parents were able to come to cheer/Sherpa for me.  Also, because I apparently can’t help myself but to become buddies with race directors, I volunteered at packet pickup the day before which allowed me to get to know some of the staff and to chat with fellow athletes which provided me with some much-needed tri-socializing time.  As an added bonus, I think I told so many people that the weather would be fine (despite a forecast of wind/rain/storms/cold) that the weather patterns themselves were convinced.  I had prepared myself to endure conditions on par with Summer Open 2012 and water temps around Havasu 2012 level.  Fortunately I was wrong (first time ever)!  Going into the race I had no idea what to expect.  I have not raced these people before and I’ve been training pretty hard the past few weeks. 

This past weekend was also my first time racing in the elite wave of an event so I was a bit anxious as our small wave of men and women lined up.  I assumed I would be dropped in a heartbeat.  While a few of the boys did just that, I managed to find my way onto the heels of man going just the right pace (though I still beat the poor guy out of the water because he had to get up and trudge through the mud when the water got shallow and my T-Rex arms just kept chugging along right up to the shore).  Out on the bike, things got a little lonely.  I believe I was fourth (male or female) out of the water with a pretty large gap so I didn’t have any targets ahead of me and there was no one coming up behind me either.  I had to constantly remind myself that I was racing and not just on a training ride with the tune of B-I-N-G-O running through my head on repeat.  The way back towards transition was much more fun as the course was by then filled with a steady stream of age groupers, many of whom were kind enough to cheer me on.  Suddenly, I could smell competition in the air and I rode off, unable to wipe the stupid grin off my face. 

My run, I must say, was far less pleasant.  Having stupidly told Coach Mace that the 10k was the goal area of this race and with the assumption that there was an unknown competitor in the age group division zipping through the course somewhere back there, I took off on the run.  Things went pretty well … for the first sixty seconds.  While the video of the bike course had prepared me for the rollers and somewhat rough road on the bike, the 2 dimensional run course map had not prepared me for the constant hills or the thick grass surface of the run course.  Finding myself once again alone for the first half of the run (until we met up with the sprinters) I had a serious battle against myself.  My legs were burning from climbing and my stomach was starting to cramp from the jarring of the downhills; there was no one ahead to chase and no one behind to push.  However, I reminded myself that thing everything will hurt just as bad in two weeks at my A race and there I will most certainly have some competition so I might as well get used to it. 

41 excruciatingly long minutes later, I crossed the finish line.  After chugging some water, hugging my parents, and getting myself on the massage list, I went out for a long cooldown run (since results wouldn’t be official for at least twenty minutes anyway).  Upon returning to the finish line, I found out that I had not only won the female division by a margin of seven minutes but had come in eighth overall regardless of gender.  Woohoo!  I think the only negative of the morning was that I have no picture to commemorate my moment of glory as the directors had decided to forego an awards ceremony this year in lieu of an admittedly much more convenient awards distribution tent (really, I’m not surprised though as my life of podium’s this year appears to be an Alanis Morisette song as evidenced by the lack of one for my cycling win and the removal of the graduate/undergraduate designation awards at Nationals). 

One deliciously greasy brunch and a painfully good ice bath later and I was packing up Maureen in her traveling clothes (ie bike box) for Virginia.  Hoping to roll on the good vibes of this past weekend as I head into the summer season – less than two weeks until Rev3 Williamsburg!

Glasses Up

End of an Era

It seems like just yesterday I put Chicago in my rear-view mirror with tears in my eyes.  Now, three short years later, I once again loaded the U-Haul and left the place I learned to call home.  I grew more as a person and learned more, academically and otherwise, than I ever thought possible. 

Graduation - can't believe how fast it came!

In August of 2010, soon after my first triathlon, I did an internet search for a tri club at CSU with the goal of meeting people and making new friends.  Thinking myself inadequate, I was beyond terrified to email then president Danny Harper regarding information.  He was so welcoming that I decided to attend the team’s first meeting where I sat in the back and tried my best to go unnoticed.  Soon, I started attending group rides led by Ashley Nice and swims with Coach Wendy Mader where I was welcomed with open arms and quickly began to make friends.  Before long, I had been talked into a road trip to Las Vegas for a race where Sarah Lubin happened to mention the possibility of me making the nationals team.  I was flabbergasted.  Low and behold, six months later I was crossing that finish line in Tuscaloosa. 

First race with the team - Oktoberfest 2010

Post-Pumpkinman in Vegas 2010

Team at nats 2011

Slowly but surely, my training increased and my times got faster; but those were not the only changes that occurred.  Suddenly, I found myself wanting to go to bed a little earlier, go out a little less, study a little more, cook for myself a little more often, and keep the apartment a little cleaner.  Something was changing.  One day I realized that I was calmer and more content; life was (and remains) good.  I owe most of this growth to my amazing teammates and coaches.  There are far too many incredible people and experiences for me to list them all but I think of them frequently and they are often on the forefront of my mind.  I can’t get through a track workout without picturing “Coach Cody” giving me splits and encouragement or Steve’s simple but to the point, “Go hard don’t stop.”

Team fun, winter 2012

Nationals 2012

Havasu 2013

Over the past year things really took off for me.  I found myself a great boyfriend, continued to foster strong friendships, completed my thesis, found myself and internship, and my training continued to blossom (guided by Coach Mace, Coach Tess, and Coach Reu).  As my time in Colorado came to a close, it seemed as though life couldn’t possibly get any better.  But that’s the funny thing about life: it is always getting better as long as you allow it to.  While I’m still not exactly settled into my new life yet, I know that the future holds amazing possibilities for me.  I could have easily spent the last three years miserable because I missed the Midwest and I could spend the next three missing Colorado.  Instead, I’m choosing to embrace the life before me while I do my best to hold tight to my roots.  And Colorado, don’t worry I’ll visit soon; RAM IT!

Ladies' pushup 2011

2012

2013

In no particular order thank you to: Coach Mace, Coach Reu, Coach Tess, Coach Wendy, Coach Doug, Ian, Danny, Sarah, Rebecca, Whitney, Jesse, Ashley, Erick, Blake, Cliff, Teddy, Cody G., Cody S., Rob, Fiona, Chris, Eliza, JT, Steve, Bevers, Susan, David, Tom, Ethan, Anj, Steph, Evan, Mely, Sara, Neil, Geneva, Julia, Kelly, Angela, Becca, Megan, Dr. LaGasse, Lauren Sletta, Dr. D, Dr. Cordain, Addie, Jesse, Alex, Taylor, Amykins, Provelo, Discover Massage, Elan Yoga, PR Triworks, Andrew, Brian, Kate, Katie, Ryan, Lib, My parents, all of my classmates, and my CSU Rammies.  Sorry to anyone I may have forgotten it doesn’t mean I love you any less!

Going away party