Vikingman Triathlon - aka - Adjusting my attitude

My 29 years on this earth have taught me a lot. I have created thought processes and habits that are difficult to undo. I have expectations that are hard to unravel. I have demands that can be impossible to meet - even for me.

Bottom line = I'm hard on myself.

It was about mile 28 on the bike yesterday that I finally got that long awaited tailwind. I had battled 24 miles of a headwind, 3 or 4 of a crosswind, and finally... finally... that tailwind! It was a beautiful moment. I had hope. Life was great. Oh, and that 20 mph wind wasn't keeping me cold anymore. Working with the wind is like stepping into a warm room. Ahhh, I do have toes!!! I just can't feel them all the way yet.

Anyhow, it was about this point when I was dethawing, that I heard the dreaded pop in my knee. My IT band did this last year - and it was a tear. "NO!!!" The pain didn't immediately come, so I thought it might have just been my joint, and that I'd be fine. Well the pain did come... it just took a while for my body to register it from all the other pains that I was experiencing. When I realized that I was really in for it, I had a decision to make. I will tell you that it was one of the hardest in my lifetime. (I know it's lame to have this be counted among one of my hardest decisions - but that's how crazy I am about not quitting). I decided that my mind alone could not be trusted, and that I needed to ask help from Heavenly Father in what I should do. I knew that if the decision was mine - I'd repeat Spudman, and not quit (even if it meant driving my knee straight into the ground). I didn't want to be stupid, and I made Jaren a promise this year that I wouldn't hurt myself. So I had to pray. As soon as I asked, I got the most overwhelming answer that I was done. However, it was NOT a relief. I knew that I was not to be trusted with this answer, so I prayed for the courage that I would need to be able to quit.

You see, I know that I am prideful, and that is why I will kill myself to finish a race. Pride. Ego. Stupidity.

I had to bike until mile 35 with one leg. Thank goodness that we practiced one legged drills a lot in cycle camp! When I pulled off at the stop, I was so tempted to just ask for some Tylenol, and keep going - but I asked Heavenly Father for help again, and I said it, "call my husband please."

The tears came, as a dream was lost. My pride fell, and the rest of the day would be spent questioning my decision. Was I a quitter? Could I have pushed through the pain? Did I just not train enough? Was my body built for this? The self doubt was the worst part. As soon as I made the decision I wished that I hadn't. I wished that I could get back on that bike and grind my knee into the ground trying.

I went to bed that night hoping that rest would provide clarity in the morning.

I woke up, and wasn't able to go to church - too much pain. Physical and emotional. Back to sleep.

When I woke up again, my knee was feeling surprisingly good. That led to a bit more self doubt - saying "see you could have finished!" That was countered by some sense of reason in my head (most likely the Spirit), that said, "Silly, it feels better because you didn't finish!" Which when I thought about it - gave me hope. I have one last half ironman option this year - August 9th - the Utah Half. I'm already signed up for it. It could be that Heavenly Father told me to stop - so that I could do the necessary rehab to make in on August 9th. Maybe. Or maybe my body won't heal the way it needs to, and I'm just done for the year.

Either way, I know that I need to work on my attitude. I am always telling my clients at work, my friends and family, and all of my training buddies to be gentle with themselves. I'm more forgiving and gentle with everything and everyone else. Why can't I just be nice to me? What is the deal?

So in an effort to keep my promise to Summer (to find my sprinkles of the race) and to not be a negative Nancy, here are some of the great things I'm proud of:

#1- According to the results I was the fourth female out of the water. :) Jaren was counting, and well... he was right! I was kicking butt at this point!

#2 - I made my goal of getting to the tailwind. The headwind was brutal, and lots of people quit just because it was so dang cold (they were probably the only sane people there!).

#3 - I passed some guys on really really really nice tri bikes... ya know... like Cervelos. Yes! And I passed them only going 11- 12 miles an hour! Ha! That tell you how bad the wind was?

#4 - Even though the water (and air) was freezing, and the conditions were terrible, my mindset was totally improved from St. George. I was in a great mood in the water, and I was having fun swimming vertically. (Wind created waves in a river! And of course it was a headwind!)

#5 - I can walk today! .... sorta.

# 6 - I supported my friend Jenny through the rest of her race, and watched her achieve one of my biggest dreams. I could have easily just sat in the car and waited it out - but she needed someone to cheer her on. And so I hobbled my little butt to the finish line to scream my guts out for her!

The last one is the most important. That is this - I put an answer from the Lord above my ego. And although, the thoughts in my brain wont stop calling me a quitter and a loser - I know that stopping was harder for me than finishing would have been. I can take the physical pain so much easier than that.

Now, if I can just get control of my thoughts - and tell them to shut up (because I know they are stupid thoughts) ... I'll be just fine!

Half Squishy-man tomorrow

So... instead of calling it a Half Ironman, I'm going to call it a half squishy-man. That doesn't seem so scary does it?

My friend Summer - a beacon for all thoughts encouraging and positive - gave me a game to play during my event. She challenged me to think of the highlights of my race as "sprinkles on top". Whether it's the fact that the guy next to me has snot dangling from his shoulder (unsuccessful release of the "farmer blow"), or not stepping in a pile of dog poop (to come back around that loop and see the foot print in it!), or just being out their in the sun having a good time. Whatever hilarious things I see, I'm looking for them. In the meantime I'm gonna be working in 15 minutes sections....hopefully that's easier to handle. It's also the time that I will be eating or drinking something. And you all know how much I like to eat!

At any rate - look for a hilarious post coming soon on my travels to Burley Idaho.

France - Part 3: Paris

Ahhh Paris!!! Romantic, beautiful, and old. Really old. Your constantly reminded in France how young our little US of A is. Most of the buildings here are older than our cute lil' country. Jaren and I drove from Normandy in our rental car, with my parents following suite. Hilarious if you ask me, to be leading your parents around... but apparently I'm better at this! Actually Jaren and I did make a great team. I was the navigator - he was the driver. We tried to switch it for a day in Milly La Foret, and I stalled the car a million times. I just got out of the seat, and never complained about him slamming on the break again. Anyhow, our drive into Paris was nuts. We drove through a bus lane, mused at all of the crazy motorcycles cutting us off - and just tried to go with the flow. We stayed in our hotel called Hotel de Bourdonnais. This is the view from our room.

Our first day we went to the Eiffel tower, and spent 3 hours in lines up and down it. It was fun to see my mother face seeing it for the first time. She just started crying, and kissing my dad. I think that it will be one of my favorite memories forever.

Day 2 was our trip to the Louvre. It was amazing. I'd been there before, but I honestly couldn't get over how much your mind forgets. I was just trying to soak it all in, and again - watch my mother's face. It meant so much to me to see her see the Louvre. I was surprised by my father (and husband's) reactions to the museum. They loved it. Dad surprised Mom with how much of the art he recognized and knew.

After the Louvre was our trip to Notre Dame. Jaren and I walked down by the river to get a good view of the Seine.

Notre Dame was beautiful, and Mass was in session. That's definitely the way to see a cathedral - when the choir is singing, and the incense is burning. Candles being lit as prayers to God. The stain glass detailing scenes from a time when Joan of Arc was being named named a saint instead of a heretic.

Day 3 was a trip to the catacombs. The underground grave for millions. I loved it the last time I saw it, and really couldn't wait to take Jaren there. His Gothic days seemed to beckon my senses that this would be something he would appreciate. I love this picture of me. I look like a ghost wandering through the graves.

Jaren and Dad are obviously Zombies.... "Brains!!!!"

After the catacombs we took a boat ride on the Bateaux Mouche. The scenic advantage from the river is unbelievable. I even snapped this very GQ shot of Jaren. :) He's going to kill me for posting it... but I think I married quite the hunk!

Day 4 was our trip to Versailles. It was so beautiful. Lots of gold. It makes all of the other castles, cathedrals, and chateaus look a little dull. It also makes you realize why the French revolution happened. The royalty living in this, while their people starved.

On one of our nights Jaren, Dad, and I went around town to see it all at night. We went to Sacre Coeur (Sacred Heart Cathedral) to watch the city (it's on a hill) turn from dusk to night. Beautiful. This cathedral was also having mass when we entered! What luck. This is the Louvre at night... and they thought the pyramid was a scar on Paris!
This is one of my favorite pictures Jaren took. Time lapse of L'arc De Triomphe!


All in all, Paris was a dream. I can't thank my parents enough for giving Jaren and I the plane tickets. My four years of French paid off for sure! I am such a blessed girl to have had so many opportunities to travel. Being able to do it with my family was amazing. I know that someday when my parents are gone - that these pictures will be worth more to me than any purse, jewelry, or gift I've ever been given. These memories of watching my Mother live her dream, my Father getting over his anger of the French (haha), and my husband saying "Je ne mange kuh les insectes" (I only eat insects) will forever be treasured.

France - Part 2: Normandy

Our tour in France continued up into Normandy. Jaren and I met my Mom and Dad at a Bed and Breakfast in a town called Villers - Bocage. It was a fully functioning farm, with beatific scenery.

It was even equipped with a new-born horse. This little one was born only two days before our arrival. So cute!!!

My tour of the D Day beaches included (but not limited to): Omaha Beach, Pointe Du Hoc, Arromanches, and Sur La Mer.

At Arromanches (Gold Beach), I learned about Winston Churchill's leadership of the Allied counterattacks, and his vision of the floating artillery base. Without Arromanche, the Allied forces would never have been able to get the supplies (tanks, ammunition, food, etc) to the troops. They made floating bridges to land that worked with the tide. It was a technological brilliance that led to the Allied victory. Here are the beaches of Arromanches, in the distance you can see some of the remains from the docking stations:


This is at Sur La Mer. These are some of the only German guns that weren't totally ransacked after WWII for their metal. Somehow they were mostly preserved, and left for people to see. They are a horrifying reminder of what the troops didn't even see that they were facing. They are approximately 1/2 mile from the coastline - and could shoot across the English Channel.

This is the observation point in front of the German guns. They would radio to the guns where the fire was landing, and how to adjust. Jaren and my father both made the comment that it would have been crazy to be in this post with huge guns blasting shells past your head. The sheer noise of it would have been gut-wrenching.
This is me overlooking the cliffs down to the beaches. Of to my right is Arromanches, and to my left is Omaha. (You can't see either in this picture).

I found this amazing picture of Omaha Beach - and then took it's modern day equivalent. The feeling at this beach was sacred. I knew that I was walking on ground where people fought for freedom. I was overwhelmed by the pure numbers, and the staggering losses felt by so many countries. The United States was not alone at D day, and I think that it was an important thing for me to remember.

This is a picture that I found of the rangers scaling their ladders at Pointe Du Hoc. They would take grappling hooks and shoot them up the cliffs. They would then take all of their gear, guns, and spirit and haul themselves up these lines - while being shot at from above by enemy fire. Reports state that more than half the rangers did not make it. This is Pointe Du Hoc as well, only modern day. The land is scarred by the craters left from the bombs that were dropped. It was one of the only war memorials that we visited where extensive landscaping was not done to cover up (or even out) the land.
This is the American cemetery at Omaha Beach. This picture only shows less than a quarter of the graves. The feeling here is quiet. I wiped tears from my eyes watching my father and husband (Dad was in the Navy and Jaren is in the Army) thank their fallen fellow men for their service. I was emotionally exhausted trying to comprehend the horrors of this war. I was unable to fathom the sacrifices made by so many, and those that are continually made during my lifetime, and in the current wars.
"Our debt to the heroic men and valiant women in the service of our country can never be repaid. They have earned our undying gratitude. America will never forget their sacrifice."

- Harry S. Truman

France - Part 1 : Climbing

As most of you know Jaren and I went to France. I'm sorry for the delay in writing about it, but I've been pretty busy. I'm going to break down my posts, because I tend to be the "super long blogger." So here we go with France - Part 1: Climbing...

We began our trip of France climbing in Fontainebleau. Specifically the area of Trois de Pignon. We checked out Bas Curvier on our first night, and were a little freaked out by all the sketchy people in the parking lot (and all the warning signs to not leave anything in your car because of thieves). So we headed to a little "less famous" place - and struck gold. Imagine white sand, black sandstone boulders delicately covered in moss (but on the holds your climbing), huge green trees, and a sense of history looming in the air. The ground is marked by huge craters - reminding you of a time that this area was not so peaceful and the land was being bombed.
As you walk to the bouldering areas, your passed by every type of person imaginable - and they are all there to climb. Everyone in this town climbs. Young to old - and I'm talking old. In the U.S. these people would be checking into nursing homes. The top outs are fairly tricky here, with a lot of slopers - which means "ugly face finish" pictures are to be had by all.
The French people were so nice, and friendly. In fact the only person Jaren and I didn't like was the only American we met while climbing. Some guy from Boulder. Arrogant.

Here's me getting a spot by 5 people! I'm not even famous - and I got this kind of treatment all over.
This next pic is one of my favorites. Jaren was actually pulling off this "hold." So tough. My hero.

France uses all kinds of crazy things to describe their boulders, one of Jaren's and my favorites was "magical." Little cheesy - but honestly, it was such a good tool for Jaren and I to pick out our favorite climbs. We just kept checking the guide book for the Magical problems - and we found a ton of them.

My favorite part of bouldering in France was the realization that I was doing something that I've always wanted to do. My love for climbing extends beyond the rocks and the moves. It's something deeper, that heals my soul. It creates an awareness for me of the big picture, and for those small moments when I can do nothing but pull really really really hard, I'm free. There's no work, there's no Army, there's definitely no upcoming triathlons... there's just the moment. Simple, pure, and beautiful.

In an effort to minimize the length on my climbing post, I have posted all of the climbing pics on the sidebar of this blog - so check them out.