She's Powered by God

Imagine a 1.5 km swim, followed by a 31 km mountain bike ride, and then an 8.2 km trail run.  Now imagine that this takes place in Guam, where the bike ride has a total of 2400 feet of climbing, and the run is through the jungle.  The fastest racer completes this race on this day in 2:29:42, and the fastest woman in 2:46:11.  Now imagine that you are competing in this race with only one glute muscle and minus one sciatic nerve.

Jamie on her bike - XTerra Guam 2012

Jamie Whitmore won this race in 2006, and this year she came back to challenge it again, this time as a disabled athlete.  She finished the race in 4:52:09, coming in 86th out of 143 athletes.  Oh, and the other 142 were able-bodied.

Jamie blows me away all the time.  I met her in January of 2007 at a training camp in Arizona.  Her dynamic personality made it impossible to do anything but admire her.  I chatted with her briefly at the end of camp that year, and completely admired who she was.  The next year, I saw her again, and the thing that amazed me was that she actually remembered me.  Shortly after that training camp, she was diagnosed with cancer.

Like every other challenge that comes Jamie's way, she went after this one with a vengeance.  Even when it seemed like the cancer was kicking her butt, she kept fighting.  I won't share the whole story, but if you want, you can read about it here.

Now Jamie has come back to the sport that she loves - XTerra triathlon.  She has not only beaten cancer (we all hope for good!) but she has fought against all odds to go back to biking and "running."  Oh, and did I mention that she and her husband have 2-yr old twin boys?  And he was out there racing, too - placed 4th in his age category to boot.

This woman amazes me.  Motivates me.  Reminds me that life is there to live.  Reach out and grab it.  And don't ever quit.

Guam race write up can be read here.

The End of an Era

At my very first triathlon (a try-a-tri), after I registered I was given a wristband with my number on it, and also had my race number written on each limb.  At the end of the race I turned the wristband in, but wore my numbers proudly for a few days, claiming I couldn't wash them off.  Really, I just wanted to tell everyone I had completed my first triathlon.  ;)

My second triathlon was a sprint distance.  I still got a wristband and body markings, but now my black wristband had two little white tabs Velcroed onto it.  I had to turn one in after the swim and one before heading out on the run so that I could get my split times.  This way I knew how long each leg took.  Although I didn't know it at the time, Kevin and Anita Miller were busy in the background, calculating everyone's time by hand.

A few years later, there was new excitement - a race (I believe it was Riding Mountain, but I may be wrong) introduced chip timing.  Chip timing had been used for some time in the Manitoba Marathon, but this was a first for MB Triathlon.  Goodbye to remembering little white tabs in the middle of the race.  Hello more accurate results (or so some thought).

However, other things have come along with this technological advancement - lost times and slow time posting, for example.  I'll never forget seeing a friend visibly upset after a Riding Mountain race because her time was gone.  She had completed the race, but there was no record of it.  (They were able to "dig" through the computer and find her results eventually.)  I've seen times messed up because someone crossed the mat at the wrong time, and it was difficult to see what was supposed to be where.  Oh, and if you didn't stay after the race to see your results, forget about finding out until at least a day later, because they simply won't be posted yet.

On the other hand, Kevin and Anita had results posted at the race almost instantaneous with the last person crossing the finish line, unless something went awry.  Kevin came up to me at one race and asked me for my times (I had been keeping my splits with my watch).  It turned out that they had a rookie in the timing crew and someone had pushed the button too many times, registering an extra time.  Within minutes, Kevin had gathered enough information to find the false time, and they were on their way.  No lost times.  To my knowledge, next to no wrong results, and nothing that went unfixed.  Oh, and if you didn't stay after the race to see your results, they were posted on the Tri MB website that afternoon (unless the Millers did not happen to have access to the Internet where they were - then they were up as soon as they did).

Kevin and Anita have been doing race timing for years.  Years and years.  Understandably, they are done.  They don't want to haul the equipment around to every race.  The challenge of getting accurate timing has been met so many times that it doesn't really present a challenge.  They want to race, not time.  Chip timing (though I can't say it's really better) is the new era.  I get that.  At the same time, I sure will miss the quick, accurate results that they have provided consistently, race after race, year after year.  I'll miss the "human touch" of what they do.  Thanks Kevin and Anita for your many years of service to the triathlon community.  Job well done.

The only thing I won't miss is those darn little white tabs...

It Could Happen to You...

You hear the stories.  Some of them even make the papers.  You know it happens, but you don't think it could ever happen to you.  You are (mostly) responsible.  You are attentive.  No, you will not be so stupid.  And then, it happens.  You find yourself in unchartered territory, wondering what happened to all the race volunteers.

I am talking about running off course, naturally.  This is my eighth season racing triathlon.  I know full well that it is the athlete's responsibility to know the race course.  Yes, it is the race organizer's duty to provide a well-marked course, but in the end, the onus is on the participant to know where to go.

Last weekend, I took the girls to Morden to race in the local Kids of Steel.  I have a bit of a personal attachment to that particular race, since that is where I completed my first and only try-a-tri seven years ago (and placed first in the women to boot).  It was there that I fell completely in love with this sport that I have competed in ever since.

Since I had nothing better to do that morning (in other words, Justin wasn't there to keep from getting run over, drowned or otherwise injured), I decided to enter my second try-a-tri and see how much I had bettered my time over the years.

I walked up to Darren Sunday morning and said, "I would like to enter the try-a-tri on the condition that my results are not posted."  Why didn't I want them posted?  Well, the race is designed for newbies as an intro to the sport.  I'm not saying that they won't be fast - I was fully aware that I might get my butt handed to me - but generally speaking those who register are not what you might refer to as elite athletes.  I wasn't there to race against them.  I was there to race against my younger self.  I even equalled the playing field (both between my "competitors" and my former self) by bringing my second best bike and not my tri bike.  Jake is my cyclocross bike, and is not set up to be super speedy on the road.

Jake.  He's speedy, but he's not a tri bike.

We hopped into the water and the horn went off.  After the hardest 300m I ever swam (don't be fooled into thinking try-a-tris are easy - you just have to push harder), I had a nice little lead.  After the bike, it had become comfortable, even though I wasn't feeling particularly well (I blame the heat and the fact that I really hadn't taken in any water to this point).  Oh, did I mention that I wasn't racing against the others?  Well, not officially.  I still wanted to win.  After all, this IS me we're talking about.

Now all I had to do was push myself through 3km of running and I was done.  I took my standard two cups of water at the first aid station (one usually goes straight on my head, the second I drink about half of and then pour the rest on my head as well).  At the second aid station I called out for two cups of water, which the volunteer reached into the back of his truck to get.  To my right I could see Rhonda and Naomi Kitchen crossing the field.  I thought, "Oh, the course must loop around that way."  I turned back to the volunteer, grabbed my water, and kept going.

*Flashback to two years ago.  I'm on the run at Riding Mountain.  I see a sign stating something like "Duathlon 2nd run Turn Right."  I start wondering, "What do I do?  Do I turn?  I'm an Olympic distance triathlete.  It doesn't tell me what to do?"  I turned right.  I all fairness, after two hours of racing, your brain doesn't always function correctly.  Although I took the wrong course, I completed the same distance.  I vowed to make sure I knew my course from then on.*

After about 25 metres I started thinking that the course didn't seem right.  I thought about heading back to make sure but didn't want to lose the time, so I kept on going.  I came to the steep downhill.  "I didn't think this was part of the course."  I kept going.  I hit the golf course.  The road was marked with race directions.  I kept going.  I saw a right turn and figured that must be where it looped.  Golfers quickly informed me I was going the wrong way.  Where was I supposed to go?  Back.  Ok.  I went back.  More golfers.  "Which way am I supposed to be going?"  "That way."  "Past the clubhouse?"  "Yep."  Ok.  I ran.

I reached the town.  I saw markings on the road.  I kept going.  I reached Mountain St.  At this point I knew without a doubt that I was NOT where I was supposed to be.  After all, there were no volunteers handing out water, and I was long overdue.  I saw a couple in a truck.  "What's the fastest way back to the campground...by foot?"  "Well, you go down there and turn left.  Run through the golf course and it will take you there."  Great.  Back the way I came.

Off I went.  Through the golf course, past the clubhouse, up the hill, down the path to the volunteer who had given me two cups of water.  There on the ground was a white arrow pointing to my left, going around an orange pylon, both of which I had missed while focusing on getting my water.  "Water please.  And you forgot to tell me to turn," I joked.  "Oh...I'm SO sorry!"  "Don't worry about it.  I'm only in this for fun anyway!"

On my way back I ran past a couple of volunteers who were directing athletes.  "There you are!  We were wondering where you were!"  "So was I!" I called back as I headed toward the finish line.  Yes, I was supposed to do three 1km loops.  I figured my run would suffice.  (As it turned out, I had run somewhere around 4.5 - 5 km instead).

Needless to say, I did not beat my original time (though I was only about 5-6 min slower).  I had a good laugh at myself, and a good number of others got to laugh at my expense.  That's ok.  Like I said, it's all for fun anyway.

Oh, today I decided to redeem myself and completed a try-a-tri in Carman.  I was appropriately ribbed about making sure I knew the course.  But this time I did it right, and my time was considerably faster.  Didn't come in first place though.  That's ok, too.  Another challenge for another day.

Running the Race - Triathlon and Life

I've said it before - I love triathlon.  I ran another one today.  I ventured into the Olympic distance two races earlier in the season than I usually do.  I don't know why I did, exactly.  It just seemed like the thing to do at the time I was registering.

An Olympic distance triathlon is composed of a 1500m swim, 40km bike and a 10km run.  As the name would suggest, it is the same distance that is run in the Olympics.  Of course, the big difference is that they do it a LOT faster than I do.  Finishing a triathlon is an accomplishment.  For me, the Olympic distance takes about three hours.  The 10k run at the end of the Olympic distance is not an easy one for me.  But it is so good to get to the end and be able to say, "I finished.  And I gave my all."

I normally start my season off with three Sprint races (half the distances), and seriously considered dropping down today.  Then one of my teammates rolled her ankle and needed asked if someone would do a relay with her, running the 10km at the end.  I asked my hubby and he jumped in.  I made some comment about how I would have to see if I could come out far enough ahead of Kathryn to beat the two of them, and suddenly there was no way I was switching races.  Now it was a competition.

It was a good race.  Good weather.  Good people.  It had its more negative moments, the first 20km of the bike, for example - all against wind.  There was one fellow competitor who didn't seem to understand the rule of having to drop out of someone's draft zone before attempting to pass them again.  When I mentioned to her that she had to, as she could get nailed for drafting (a 2-min penalty), she got quite defensive.  As much as it irritated me that she did it, I knew it wasn't going to affect my placing any - anyone who is close to my bike time is a faster runner.  I just thought she should know.  Other than that, I had a wonderful time.

I loved the run today.  I never ran more than 500m without getting some sort of encouragement from someone, whether it was the volunteers, some fans along the way, or fellow competitors.  It felt so good to know so many were cheering for me.  I do the same.  I have always enjoyed encouraging other racers during this final leg, whether they are ahead or behind.  It just feels good.

For years, I had one goal in my races - to see Pat Peacock crack a smile.  Pat's my former triathlon coach and current swim coach.  And the top male age group athlete in the province.  The man is FAST.  Two weeks ago, we were both racing in the first triathlon of the season.  I have started wearing Vibram Five Fingers runners, and Pat likes to tease me a little about them.  He made a good-natured comment as he raced by me, complete with a smile.  Afterwards I told him of my goal and thanked him for helping me reach it.  Today when we met on the run, he flashed the biggest smile ever.  I think that was the moment of my race in many ways, for in a way it embodied the spirit of the whole event - helping other athletes reach their goals (even their silly ones).

I asked Darryl, rather rhetorically I suppose, why I do this to myself.  Three hours of racing takes a lot out of a person.  He responded that I liked the competitive aspect of it, and that triathlon meets me at a level I can compete at.  That is definitely a big part of it.

Then I read his blurb of the day (he emails me every day with his thoughts on a given topic).  He talked about the atmosphere in a race, how it was encouraging, how you could talk to people, and how you went out to do your best knowing there were people behind you.  Yup, that's why I do it.

He also asked why we don't get that same feeling at church.  On the one hand, I know that there are people in my home church as well as in the global church who are there, cheering me on to reach my goals (though they don't ever seem to ask what they are, nor do we tend to set spiritual goals).  On the other, there have been many Sundays that I have walked in and out of my home church without having anyone come up to say hello.  You know, that would never happen at a race.  I could not possibly show up, race and leave without not only one, but tens of people talking to me, encouraging me.  I don't think anyone could.  Newbies show up and have several people who seek to help them make sure they know what to do, where to go, and cheer them towards the finish line.

In the Bible, Paul speaks of running the race - living the Christian life.  I'm not here to knock my fellow believers, but let's learn from this.  Let's challenge each other, encourage each other.  Let's be each other's cheering sections.  Let's stand by each other so that at the end, each one can say, "I have finished the race.  And I gave my all."

To Have a Good Time

XTerra:  What you do when regular triathlon isn't enough of a challenge.
Duathlon:  What you do when either the weather or the area isn't conducive to swimming.
XTerra Duathlon:  What you do when you have some sort of narcissistic personality disorder.
(Long course: 6km trail run, 20km mountain bike, 3km trail run)

Today was my first ever XTerra duathlon.  When Chris and Rhonda first mentioned that they were hoping to put one on this year, I was so excited.  I had met some XTerra triathletes down at training camp in the States, and loved the idea of it.  They chose to go with a du rather than a tri because a tri would require two transition areas (because of the area set-up), which would be too complicated, especially for their very first time putting the race on.

It's possible that at some point, someone somewhere has done an off-road tri or du in Manitoba.  In fact, I think I heard about one up at Grand Beach in years past.  However, there has been nothing lately, so this was a brand new experience for many athletes.  Triathletes are generally not seen off-road.  Mountain bikers tend to avoid running.  We were all (or at least most) about to embark on a new adventure.

I stayed out at my parents' last night, and during the hour long drive to the race site out at Birch Ski Area, I realized that we were going to encounter a good deal of rain.  Add to that cooler temps.  But thankfully, next to no wind.  The rain, though, can make very rideable trails vey unrideable.

I arrived, got marked, hid under the shelter until we got a brief break from the rain, and then ran back and forth to my van a gazillion times because I was always forgetting something.  (As it turned out, this was our only break from the rain, but thankfully it was never a downpour.)  During the pre-race meeting I took a look around at the other athletes.  There were quite a few I didn't recognize and...um...only two other women.  And I guessed that neither of them were doing the long course.

As we lined up at the start line right after the meeting, I found out that I was right.  Me and 14 guys.  Kate Okany looked at me and said (with a hint of surprise in her voice), "You're doing the long course, Terri?" "Yup. I figured if I'm going to pay for it, I may as well get the most for my money.  Besides, I'm here to have a good time, not to get a good time."  And off we went.

It didn't take long for the guys to drop me.  No big surprise.  I'm not a strong runner at the best of times, and there were some pretty good hills.  The short course athletes started just before I finished my first lap, and I actually almost caught one of the women on the run.  However, as I tried to pick up my pace coming into transition, I experienced a feeling I had never had before - tight IT band.  It didn't hurt yet, but there was a distinct tightness.  Since I knew I still had over two hours of racing to go, and I wasn't really competing against anyone anyway, I backed off.

As I rounded the corner into T1, I was pleasantly surpised to see that my bike was not the only one on the rack.  Almost.  But not quite.  There was, of course, the woman who was right in front of me.  But there were one or two others as well.

The bike was supposed to be easy to moderately technical.  Rhonda told me before the race that she had ridden the whole course, and had done it in under an hour (one lap), so I should be fine.  As I started the bike, it dawned on me - she hadn't run 6km before doing it.  Suddenly hills that would be comfortably rideable were very tiring, and the tiring hills had me walking up with my bike.  And you couldn't make up a ton of time on the downhill sections because it had started raining, which made them quite slick.  I saw a couple of places where someone in front of me hadn't quite made the corner.  Now, I'm sure that for those who had better mountain biking skills, and for those who know the trails at Birch well, the trails weren't too bad.  But since I am not in that situation, it was a tough ride.  I loved it, but it wore me right out.

The description of the course as easy to moderate was a fair one. There was very little flat riding with a few steep hills (they wouldn't have been as hard if it was dry, but they still would have been tough), but very little switchback. There were some sections that were freshly cut for this race.  When I saw Kevin Miller after the race, he had a big smile.  He was very pleased with the technical level of the course, as he had been somewhat worried going in that it would be too easy.  It was definitely doable.  But not easy.

I was really hoping that I would not get lapped on the bike.  I am a new mountain biker, and my skills are desparately lacking.  Still, I figured it was pretty unlikely, since it was a 10km loop, and I was right.  In fact, I managed to pass one of the short course athletes. 

The second loop bike loop was more painful.  Not only were my legs extremely tired, but my IT band was now complaining quite loudly every time I got off my bike, especially the couple of steep downhill sections that I opted to walk my bike down.  I figured for the amount of time I lost not riding (not much due to the braking I would have had to do to stay safe), I made up for by not crashing.  (I did have my bike slide out from under me on one of the very rideable corners, which kind of made me happy - meant that I was pushing my envelope.)

As I ran out of T2, I knew my second run would not be a good one.  I should have been able to come in under 3 hours quite comfortably.  As it was, running on the flat was painful, and running on the hills was virtually out.  I contemplated walking the whole thing - I was in first place regardless - but figured I would run as much as I could, while at the same time trying not to push too hard.  By the end of the run, either I was getting used to the pain, or it had eased slightly, but it was still definitely there.  I'm going to have to do some serious resting and working on that if I'm going to be running the half in Niverville in a month.

The best part of the race?  The post-race food.  Of course, when you are hungry for the last half hour of the race (misjudgement of fueling on my part - I should have had 1-2 more gels during the race), pretty much anything will taste good.  But it was still very good.  And LOTS of food.  Unfortunately for the race directors, there were only 22 racers.  There were several reasons for the low turn-out, the mountain bike provincials tomorrow being one of them.  Fortunately for us, they had made sure there was food for many more than 22.  We left well-fed.

I ended up crossing the finish line in 3 hours, 1 minute and 8 seconds.  I was the very last athlete across the line, something which I am very proud of.  (There have been several times when my kids have asked me if I ever came in last in a triathlon or duathlon, and I had to say no.  Now I don't have to.)  As it turns out, there were three guys who DNF'd.  And even if you just cut my time in half, I would have beat two of the short course athletes.  I'm ok with that.  I did not only have a good time, I had a great time.  And I would do it again in a heartbeat.  Just not today.