BEING IN THE MOMENT.

I catch myself daily letting life go by, wondering what to do next, chasing the clock, watching time, cadence, speed, hurrying to the next chore, looking to the next day the day before. We all have busy schedules and we are constantly trying to fit everything in a day that seems too short. Sometimes, I feel that my life is a race to get everything done the fastest and most efficient way as possible. And before you know it, the day is over, I am exhausted and a day just went by in a seemingly robotic way without stopping to ENJOY IT.

This past weekend in Florida I had the most glorious ride.

It was a four hour ride along the coastline of Siesta and Longboat Key. It's just plain gorgeous. Palm trees, crystal blue water, the sound of the waves crashing on the beach, quiet surroundings, blooming flowers. The list could go on forever.

My ride was a Zone 2 ride. Before the ride, I charged my SRM and was ready to yet ride within my power zones while watching all the numbers flash before me on the screen. Heart rate, cadence, time, avg speed, speed, avg cadence, avg power. For two hours, my eyes were glued to that thing until the battery died. Yeah, I guess the outlet that I had the SRM plugged into was out of commission.

It was a blessing.

After two hours of zone 2 riding on flat as pancake roads, you get the feel of how hard you should be pushing the pedals.

The rest of the ride, I simply went by feel. Instead of constantly looking at the numbers, I was able to relax, enjoy the ride, and simply get lost in thought and enjoy the surroudings of a beautiful place.

During those two hours, at times I didn't think about anything and simply listened to my feet pedaling the gears, listened to the wheels go SWOOSH, SWOOSH in the wind, listened to the pattern of my breathing, watched the glorious scenery around me. And at other times just thought about life. It reminded me how lucky I am... for many things.

I was truly in the moment.

There was nothing to chase, no clock, just me and my bike. I was relaxed, content, AND...

thankful for just being.

Yes, just BEING.
It's simple...Yes. But often forgotten in the shuffle of the daily grind.

For most of you who read this blog, we are competitive beasts who are constantly chasing, constantly trying to figure out how to fit hours of training in while working, being a mom, and taking care of the in and out's of life, aiming to be at a better place, watching the clock, pushing ourselves to shave seconds off a split time. I am quilty as charged.

But after this weekend, I learned yet another valuable lesson. Take off the watch every once in a while and just BE. It's a great place.

GOOD RIDDANCE PINK AND GREEN SKIRT.

AND HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!!!

Yesterday was a long day, a great race day. It's been blissful here in Siesta Key, Fl. We have been coming here for years and yesterday's race was perfect timing and also an excuse for a mini family vacation. The race was a low key Olympic distance race right on the island.

So here's the lowdown.

I took off the pink and green Lilly skirt, did the best that I could in the choppy Gulf of Mexico and was REALLY happy to pull off my best time in a 1500 meter swim. It still needs work. So, I can't put on the leather, skimpy, tiger print shorts yet but they are waiting. And one day I will wear them when I have earned the right to acquire them...so to speak. There's a goal in mind. And when it's reached those shorts are MINE.

The rest of the race went really well. I got my pep back... felt great on the bike and had a pretty good run. The bike was a 2 loop course in the shape of a lollipop. Of course it was flat, flat, flat and I gunned it from the start and learned from the last race not to let my head get in the way after the swim. This time, there were actually bikes left on the rack... so that helped. During the ride, I had no idea where I was in comparison to the other girls. Dean was out on the course and at one point yelled "You're in third!!!". So, I laid down the hammer even harder.

After the bike, I was out on the run and again the legs felt pretty darn good. The first half mile or so was on a sandy trail and then the next 5 were on asphalt. The last mile was the hardest as it was on the beach. We ran along the shoreline and luckily there was hard pack sand to run on but then we had to head up the beach through the thick sand to the finish line. OMG, at that point my legs were dead and the footing in that stuff was tough. Finally, what seemed like an endless run through the sand ended, I turned the corner, looked a the clock and sprinted to the finish line.

Dean nor I knew where I finished in the pack as girls came in from other waves and from the duathlon that was held at the same time. We were thinking third or fourth.

Well.... I WON and PRed at the same time. Granted, I have not done many Olympic distance races so the PR is relative. Heather Gollnick was there and outraced most of the elite men. WOW.... she was a super stud in the water. HOLY MOLY. It's very cool to see the people whom you read about and see in magazines.

Anyway, that's it in a nutshell.

I am off for a LONG, recovery ride along the coast and then some fun family time on the beach. What a great Mother's Day!!!

Cheers

THE GLASS SLIPPER

Yeah, I took a little hiatus from the blogging but not without just cause.

My "new" coach just told me "you need to update that thing. It's been since April 29th." Yes, it has and since then, I have made some pretty big changes. As you can see in the aforementioned statement, I just got a new coach. The reasons for changing do not need to be mentioned. I will only say a few things to anybody looking for a coach/mentor.

Coaching is like teaching. A teacher can teach directly out of a textbook and the students can absorb the information but little sinks in and the the information is quickly lost.

As I look back upon my favorite teachers, they were the ones who put a different spin on the 'ol textbook. They didn't just spew out information while we sat in our wooden desks taking notes. They found ways to motivate you, inspire you, cared, took you aside and gave you a talking to if you weren't on track and said things you may not have wanted to hear all while making it fun at the same time. Simply put... good coaching/teaching is a matter of communication and an art of knowing how each person ticks. Each of us ticks and beats to a different drum and a good coach can find those things, hone in them, give you a kick in the butt if you sway off track, twist your head on straight and know how to motivate you to accomplish the goals you set out to meet.

We, as athletes, follow a daily regime. Our coaches do everything they can to make those workouts more fun and interesting. Honestly, there are not too many ways you can change an interval workout on a bike or even a track workout. We have all done the same workouts or close to it. Yes, it comes down to science at times and the mastery and expertise in the field helps a ton.

So, it's a combination of those things make a good coach.

And.....

my new coach fits the glass slipper.

First, she's a stud. Second, she can SWIM, SWIM, SWIM, and SWIM some more. We have been talking for about two weeks, she made a schedule for me on the fly before a race this weekend, and OH BOY... my first swim workout...&@#* My arms were shaking for two hours. She also listed goals for the week, made little comments like "WOOHOO", and "you should hurt like a dog". In an email about the race, she told me to "take off the skirt during the swim and learn how to suffer". (Some of these comments have got to sound familiar to all you fellow bloggers.) And there's not too many coaches that will give you crap for not updating your blog.

After reading those workouts and few phone conversations later, I knew the decision was right. Honestly, it was tough to change coaches 3 weeks before Eagleman which is my first A race. She put my mind at ease and I feel totally confident in her approach and style.

So, I hope everybody has found their Cinderella out there. The right coach can make all the difference and they are like diamonds in the ruff.

Tomorrow, is my first race under new management. YAHOOOO. I've got some OOMMPH back and ready to have some fun.

All I want to do is get out of the pink and green Lilly skirt and put on some leather, tiger print, skimpy shorts and suffer in the water like a DOG!!!

THANK YOU, JEN.

Cheers

AHH-HAAAA.

I felt it.

That lovin' feelin that my coach and all "THE" swimmers had told me about. "One day everything will just click".

Yesterday at the pool, I felt more like a fish and less like a guppy.

Perhaps, thinking about the last race and gaining some perspective on things allowed me to RE-LAX. Things just felt smoother, less taxing and my brain and body were able to just enjoy being in the water. It felt glorious and for the first time, I am looking forward to my next workout in the pool to feel that LOVIN' FEEL again.

Another lesson learned.

Cheers.

PERSPECTIVE

Hello everybody!

No, I have not fallen off the face of the Earth...I have been doing normal daily life routine stuff in addition to racing, thinking and training.

Last weekend I did an Olympic distance race in Las Vegas. It was kind of a spur of the moment race to dust/clean the cobwebs and rust away in preparation for Eagleman in June. I wanted to just go through the motions and what better way than to race. It was a pretty low key race but tough and filled with hills. It was held on Lake Meade which is gorgeous. Gosh, I could actually see the bottom of the lake which is a huge comparison to the sludge here in Maryland's Chesapeake Bay.

I am not going to go through every detail of the race but give you a brief synopsis.

The swim was a mass start. EESH. It was a wicked start as 400 racers had to squish in between two buoys that were about 30 feet apart. A few racers took it upon themselves to push a buoy a few feet further prior to the start because it was just a little too insane. As you all may know, I have been working on my swim and wanted to see how it would fair after a few months of concentration and work with a new coach.

Well...it stunk.

WHY?? I just wasn't thinking AT ALL during that swim but just going through the motions. I wasn't thinking about my stroke, reaching, pulling....NOTHING. My head was in Pluto and body was in the water.

Mistake #1.

I got out of the water, looked at my watch and said "OH #^%!!" It was a little depressing to see no bikes in the racks. It was difficult to get the head wrapped around it and get back in the game.

Mistake #2.

I set sail on the bike. It took a while to get back into the groove, to put my thoughts in a positive place and to hammer on the bike.

Mistake #3.

After I passed a few people, the hunger started to come back. The "go get em, romp em, stomp em attitude began to take over and I started to regain focus. Each person ahead was a target to pass. It was a fun course. Hilly but fun. Near the end, there was an 8% climb that was about a mile long and we turned around at the top and descended into transition.

During the run, I felt great and continued to stay on the focused path. I was in about 10th place at that point. The run was mostly on a rocky, susty trail. (susty is a combination of sand and dust) Smack in the middle of the run, was an Exterra like hill climb that was just plain ol' fun. The legs were turning over quite well and was quite surprised how well they felt.

I finished 4th overall, 1st AG.

Told you it was going to be a quick report.

There is a reason for my briefness. In every race, I learn something new whether it's how to conquer a new challenge, a little life lesson, a new race tactic, listening to others advice, etc.

I made mistakes in this race, wasn't happy with my performance, was TOed about the swim and upset that I missed the podium. After some thinking (perhaps too much thinking), I gained some perspective on many things. Those mistakes listed above...well I learned what not to do next time.

The podium thing.

Yes, it is nice to win, nice to be on the podium after many hours of training, nice to have it as a goal but it certainly isn't going to happen regularly. This year feels different. My perspective is changing. Perhaps, I have a couple of racing years under my belt and that is making the difference in how I feel about racing in general. Perhaps, at 37, I am reaching a point where I know the clock will start to kick in and I will have to accept the changes that will occur.

That's OK.

Everybody is in this sport for various reasons. I wanted to shake the tri/du world a little bit...still do but if I don't that's quite alright. The reasons I am in it far outweigh bringing home a piece of hardware. I will continue to be competitive as heck, still aim high and shoot for the stars but there is a bigger picture.

I love this sport...for the daily motivation, for the people I have met along the way, the places traveled to, spending time with my family at races, the learning process, overcoming obstacles, the challenges, the feeling of accomplishing a goal, learning from my mistakes, the thrill of competition...the list goes on and on. It changed my life.

Simply put...the biggest lesson this past weekend.

Perspective.

Cheers

ROADIE RIDES.

Finally, as the temperatures have gotten warmer and Spring is upon us, we are able to once again enjoy the benefits of riding outdoors without freezing off our bums. My bike team ABRT/Latitude rides all year round on the weekends but now that daylight hours are longer, our team also holds evening rides during the week.

An article was just written about the team in our local newspaper.
www.hometownannapolis.com/cgi-bin/read/2008/04_15-30/SPO

I love these rides but it took some time to get used to the "roadie" mentality.

I remember my first ride with the team about two years ago. I pulled up in the parking lot where the ride departs and looked upon the mass of about 40 men standing before me in their snazzy blue and green kits. I looked down at my bright yellow jersey, black Zoot shorts and knew I was going to stick out like a sore thumb. There was not another female in the bunch. "Oh crap"... I thought. "Now what?" I was tempted to turn around and leave but didn't and proceeded to quietly get my gear and bike ready for the ride ahead.

Not one person spoke to me or perhaps I looked too scared to be approached. They just looked at me like I was some outsider/female that presumably was going to get dropped in a matter of minutes.

My plan... just act like I can ride and hang on for dear life.

As you know, group rides are different, "roadies" are different than the "tri geeks". For it is not necessarily the strongest person that will finish first but the smartest and the most tactical.

As the ride began and drifted into a double paceline, I quickly learned how to draft. Finally, someone talked to me and introduced himself, we quickly chatted but I was too nervous to talk and too afraid to look anywhere but at the wheel in front of me. He quickly gave me the run down of the ride. He advised me of the points at which the group will "take off" and he said "just hang on a wheel and hope you get to the top of the hill". If you make it up the hill, hang tough because the pace will pick up and the pack will splinter."

Well. We got to THE hill. All I heard was a mass CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, as gears downshifted and the mass of riders were vying for position for the best wheel to get them up the hill. I tried to enter the pack but NO DICE. I was left sucking wind and thinking "Oh please, some kind gentlemen have sympathy for a girl and let me in your line of draft".

Nope. Chivalry was dead.

I managed to get to the top of the hill but lost touch with pack and was left in the dust.
Luckily, I was familiar with the roads and could get home by myself, and was left alone to time trial it back to the start.

Oh, how humliating to come in from a group ride 15 minutes later than the rest. They were packing there bikes, already out of their kits and discussing the antics of the evening. I entered the parking lot in round about way so as not to be noticed but my yellow jersey was like a neon light, heads turned and my face was red.

I was also angry. Angry at myself for not being able "to hang". I put my bike in the car, drove home but anxious for the next ride.

Ride#2: Dropped again. Still perterbed.
Ride#3: Dropped AGAIN. ERRGGGG.

The frustration was building but wasn't giving up.

On ride #4, the "Don" of the group approached me. The "Don" is the guy who sets the pace for the ride, the leader, the one who keeps everybody in line, the leg ripper, the keeper of the pack. If you piss him off...WATCH OUT for he has the capability to ZOOOOOM at lightening speed with "HIS people" as the rest of the pack is left to chase with their heads hanging low waiting for someone to risk their legs to bridge.

That night, the "Don" had some compassion. Perhaps, his legs were tired and he needed a rest from being at the front of the pack. Anyway, he told me "GET ON MY WHEEL AND DON'T LET GO".

I did.

I hung on for dear life, gritting my teeth, hurting like heck, knuckles white from squeezing the handle bars so tight but determined to finish with the pack. And for love of GOD....I FINISHED.

That was the start of a lovely beginning. For the rite of passage was tough but as the season continued I REALLY learned how to ride my bike, suffered, got my legs ripped off and was continually challenged. The "Don", aka, Jeff and I are good friends/training partners, I am let in the line of draft, and my husband's company, Latitude, is now the title sponsor.

The rides are now part of my workout regime but I still remain pretty quiet on those rides for it is a constant battle to stay afloat, remain in position, suck wheel and occasionally pull off the front. Talking becomes a distraction. However, I am very thankful for such a great group to ride with that constantly pushes me to the edge.

As far as bike racing, well....I've had a few experiences in some crits and road races. They are different beasts and MAYBE I will enter some this season. For now, I'll remain a "tweener" roadie and tri/du geek and keep getting my legs ripped off in group rides.

Cheers.

VISCIOUS CYCLE

is in full force.

We all know it. The stage in our training when we enter our preparation/specialization phases and our workouts gradually build in intensity and duration for a few weeks and then are followed by rest and recovery. The volume and intensity build to a point where we are ready to crack, burst at the seams, and our bodies are screaming for chill pills. This past week was the last week in a build phase.

As I fought through the week and the constant feeling of being tired and achy, the crankier I got. The crank-o-meter measures my point of mental and physical breakdown. It entered the red zone yesterday.

I know when it's in the red zone when the littlest things start to bother me. Yesterday morning, I was perterbed at the sight of an empty glass sitting on the coffee table as it should have been put IN the dishwasher and not left out over night, I was irked that there wasn't enough peanut butter to cover both sides of my bagel, that Brooke's socks were laying on the floor from the day before, and I didn't have matching water bottles for the ride that morning.

And no, it's not a matter of OCD. It's the viscious cycle.

To top it off, Dean and I got in an argument over bike helmets. No further comments needed. Yes, he knows the cycle has started. He is familiar with the training regimines and it's effects on my mood/b$&*h factor. As I was leaving for my ride, he said "Why don't you stop and get a bottle of wine on your way home". OK... point taken. I have tipped the meter when Dean tells me to get a bottle of wine at 9am.

I had a four hour brick ahead of me and was just dying for the workout, week, and tiredness to be over. Luckily, I had my friend Jeff "the leg ripper" as company to push me through the ride and listen to the whining. Yes, whining. We were both tired as heck, our legs charred, and to boot it was WINDY and COLD. Needless to say, we both dropped plenty-o-f-bombs as we pushed ourselves over the hills, and cursed to the BIG MOM (mother nature) for not behaving as the wind was constantly in our faces. We anxiously counted the hours and minutes to a blessed week of R&R.

During the run, all I could think about was shoes. (yeah, the shoe thing) It was a great incentive to get me through the last hard run. As I crested the last hill and headed into the head wind, I envisioned a pair of cute, red, patent leather flats. Yes, I wanted to be like Dorothy and funneled to the Land of Oz at that moment. And the faster I ran, the quicker I could get there, drink wine and chill.

Last night, I celebrated the finish of the toughest week of training yet. 21 hours down the hatch. I drank a little too much wine but ready for a trip to Oz this morning.

NORDSTROM.

Oh yes.

It's a date with a cup of coffee and some girlie girl clothes. I want to feel something other than lycra, Gortex, and carbon fiber and can't wait to browse the shoe department and touch the fine leather of some Stuart Weitzman and Donald Pliner shoes. Then, just for grins, a round about of the mall to check out the latest in summer clothes. Finally, just chillin' to get the crank-o-meter down to a comfort zone.

So, the season is upon us. Yes, our moods go up and down, sideways and roundabout as the viscious cycles continue for several more months. I am very fortunate to have the very best support crew, Dean, Brooke, friends and training partners to listen my whining and who put up with my foul moods. It's not all the time... just when it counts the most. Thanks everybody.
XOXO.

Cheers

BRANDYWINE VALLEY DUATHLON

OK, this weekend was my first multi-sport event.

Sorry, I didn't have time to blog about it but it was such a busy weekend. My father in law turned 75. We had two birthday parties for him on Friday and Saturday so all the family members could celebrate "the biggie", I had meetings for the development of the kids triathlon program in Annapolis, Brooke's first lacrosse game was this weekend (BTW, she scored the first goal), and then we had to travel to the race.

The race was actually right outside my home town of Lancaster, Pa... home of the Amish which is about 2 hours away from Annapolis. And, NO, I am not Amish, have never ridden in a horse and buggy and I do not have a black apron in my closet. People really do ask me if I am Amish after telling them I am from Lancaster.

Anyway, onto the race.

I was a bit ambivalent going into it. It was a short course duathlon that was a 5K run, 13.2 mile bike, 5K run. In the beginning of the season, I filled out a questionnaire which listed the races that I would be doing along with a number from 1-10 that corresponded to its importance. 0=don't give a hoot, 5=just for fun, 10=most important. I listed this race as a 6.

A 6 it was... but was STILL nervous. The first race of the season is always a stomach churner.

On Friday, I called my coach to calm the nerves and discuss the race. He reminded me that this is not an "A" race, that I have just come off an 18 hour workout week and that I should use this race as hard workout. "Ok, I can do that." (Ha- easier said than done) We went through some thought processes and he gave me some insight on how to race it. Basically, in this short of a race, I would be redlining it the whole way. That made me nervous since I have never raced after a hard workout week with little recovery.

There is a crew of Mid-Atlantic girls that duel in many of the local races. Quite a few of them were at this race and I knew it was going to be a tough competition. The cool part about this crew is that were are truly friends on and off the field. We warm-up together, catch up on each other's lives from race to race or season to season, have spent many hours together at Duathlon World Championships, and we support each other before, during and after the races. When and if we pass each other on the race course we always manage to give each other words of encouragement or a thumbs up (if we can't breathe). It's a just a really cool coup of girls and it was great to see them again.

We all stood together at the start line still chatting away.

Then, we were off .

My friend Sue took the lead within minutes. I trailed behind her and there were a few girls on my heels. I came into transition in second place after run #1. My legs were not feeling fresh as daisies and lacked zip. Sue (my bud) was a speed demon and was about a minute ahead of me. There were a few girls right behind me and I had to quickly transition and head out on the bike. The course was in a different location this year and I was not familiar with the course at all and we didn't have time to preview it.

The course description said it was moderately hilly. Well...that IT was. There was no time to get into a rhythm as the hills were endless and the twisty turny roads tested your bike handling skills. Anyway, remember those hill repeats? Well, my BUTT was feelin' them yesterday. That thing was on fire. Since the course was only 13.2 miles, it kind of flew by and I wished it was longer. I held my second place position and knew that Sue had a good lead on me.

Off to run #2.

Duathlon's are tough. That second run is always a killer. It didn't kill me but it wasn't the most stellar performace either.

At about mile 1, I saw Sue coming out of a loop as I entered it. She looked like a possessed animal. We gave each other a thumbs up and the girl behind me pulled ahead of me and I was vying to stay in third place. My legs were just tired,my butt in flames. Julie was right behind me and we were both fighting hard. As I ran up the last 1200m hill to the finish, I had to kick it in and finish.

Third place overall.

I was happy and dismayed at the same time yesterday. On one side of the coin, I was happy to place third with tough competition after a tough training week and also dismayed to place third after a hard training week. Of course, I wanted to do better, to be a stud after training really hard. BUT...YOU CAN'T WIN THEM ALL. Thank you, Liz, for your blog yesterday. It helped to put things into perspective.

I used to think that every race was an "A" race. Now, as I have a few years under my belt of racing, I realize that some races are simply stepping stones. They are the ones which help prepare you mentally and physically for the races that you label as 10's on your race schedule. Yes, I have a hard time grasping that concept and wrapping my head around the fact that I will feel like poo at some races and that there is a bigger picture in the future. It's a tough lesson but one that is hopefully going to be beneficial in the long haul.


Cheers

HTFUing.

Yesterday I had a swim, bike, and a run. Go figure three sports in one day. Anyway, I spun my legs in the morning, ran some errands, swam in the early afternoon, got home, TOOK A SHOWER to rid the chlorine stench, procrastinated for a while as the cold, rainy front was moving in and was deciding whether to run on the treadmill or run outside. Finally, Dean came home and said "get movin, go run"!

I abhore the cold, don't like ice cream, don't like ice in my drinks, like my water bottles warm, and can't stand temperatures below 45 degrees. I become wussified, shrivel up and hide like a bear in the den in the winter months.

Anyway, yesterday's run was an hour with hill repeats. 14 of them. A hill repeat workout on the treadmill??? Doable, but not quite the same.

So, I grabbed my gortex jacket, gloves and headed out to SUFFER in the lovely Spring weather. Hello... where are you?

As I drove to a nearby site to run, it wasn't sprinkling anymore. My wipers were in full throttle and the temperature dropped from 44 to 39 in a matter of minutes.

"Oh well, It's time to HTFU, Kerri." Get your wimpy butt out there.

I had about a 3 mile warm-up before heading into the hills. The only words that came into my head were.....HTFU, HTFU. I wish it had been written on the back of my black jacket in big, yellow, neon letters so if any body asked what the heck I was doing I was simply going to reply....HTFUing. Just the reassurance and the justification would have been nice. As I ran minutes from my nearby neighborhood, I only wished someone would recognize me, whisk me away , tell me I'm crazy and tell me to get in the car and go home. But..nope...it was just me, the rain, the wind, the cold and suffering...HTFUing.

As I got to the hills, I was ready to hammer up and down, to contend with the elements and beat the urge to quit regardless of how miserable I felt. By hill number ten, I was drenched, the rain was dripping off my baseball cap and dripping into my mouth. Effortless hydration. My fingers were numb.

I think the residual effects of listening to my Ipod the other day had it's reprecussions. Music kept playing in my head. Boy, I came up with some great lyrics for an HTFU song. I kept singing it out loud as I ran up and down and up and down, over and over. I had to laugh a little bit.

They can't be repeated here but one day if we fellow bloggers and HTFUers get together for a camp I'll sing them out loud for y'all.

At hill number 12, I wanted to go home. I was ready to hitch a ride back to my car. My fingers were so numb they hurt. The gortex jacket was no longer doing it's job.

"HTFU, Kerri. 2 more hills and then you can go home"

I powered them out. Sprinted them. Suffered. Hurt.

"DONE. You did it. Time to go home. 3 miles to your car"

I was in pain. My fingers were so cold they literally started to pulsate. My thumb was ready though. I had to stop and to try and generate some heat back into them. The gortex gloves were given a few choice words. "Yeah, I just HTFUed and you didn't help at all". You worthless pieces of &#^$!"

Anyway, thankfully my inlaws house was about 1/2 mile down the road. I had to stop.

Enough HTFUing.

I ran into their house, threw my soaked jacket and gloves on the floor and my mother in law wrapped me in a blanket, made me some hot tea, and I thawed out. I was ready to cry as my fingers started to regenerate some circulation and my stomach was churning in a ready to throw up way.

Needless to say, HTFU workouts are the ones you remember the most. They are the ones you recall when you have to endure the battles on the race field. They make you tough. They make you think you can drive through anything when challenges daunt you the most.

So, when the time comes, don't wussify...go out drive through it, conquer your worst enemy and WIN not just for the race but for yourself.

Cheers

STRIDE FOR STRIDE...

Yesterday started out as a rainy, windy, nasty day. I had an hour run and running in 18 mph wind in the rain wasn't all too appealing. So, I opted to run on the treadmill at the gym to escape from the inclement weather and even brought my Ipod for extra entertainment. EWWWW, rule breaker!!! Usually, I do not listen to any music while running. My high school cross country coach started that trend. He said "you can't race with them so your not practicing with them". He firmly believed that listening to music while running was a external motivator and that motivation should come from within your own head... and not from Def Leppard, Queen, or the Scorpions.

After 26 years of runnning, I broke one of my training commandments. I needed some external force to get me through an hour run on the treadmill...alone. I wish I had some tready friends like Bree to help make it more competitive, fun, and just to have some plain ol' company on that thing.

I can honestly say...YEP, it helped to listen to the beat of U2, Barenaked Ladies, Matchbox 20, Cake etc. to pass the time. Listening to Cake's The Distance will surely put a hop in your stride. It broke the boredom.

At about 40 minutes into my run, I look over and there's Ashley struttin' into the gym. I look...do a double take, look again AND....

He was free!! No shoulder sling, no cast and NO neckbrace.

I gotta repeat that....NO NECKBRACE.

He's been wrapped in braces for 2 1/2 months and to see him out of that stuff was enough to make me wanna jump on that treadmill. Oh, it would have been perfect timing to blare Mother Freedom by Bread at that moment. Ipod, you need speakers.

Next thing...he hops on the treadmill and starts running!

OK, he just got his neckbrace off about 10 minutes ago and there he was running at 7.7 on the friggin treadmill.

Jeepers...if only Beautiful Day by U2 were playing now.

So, there we were running side by side, stride for stride on the treadies. My best friend and training partner was back. The music was enough to get me through the first 3/4 of the run but I took my earphones out at that point. We didn't talk. We didn't need to. It was just nice to hear the footsteps beside me.

That was the best music of all.

So, one of my commandments was broken but quickly put back on track. The music got me through the montony but made me feel deaf for the rest of the day, didn't give me time to think, and it stole the challenge of getting through the boredom with just my own head. I didn't the need tunes anymore.

Just the sound of footsteps.

Cheers

JH...this one's for you. Yep, needed that.