Cliff

10-24-2008

By: Brendan Novak

Ms. Mich's 5th Grade Class

I dedicate this to my mom and dad, Laura and Micheal Novak

I heard the bell at 6:30am. I passed my groggy but awake tent partner Wilson on my way to breakfast. At 8:00am after breakfast, (soggy instant oatmeal and water) we started to make our way to the cliff.

When we got to the cliff, I couldn't peel my eyes off the scene. I could see the vast mountains and steep valleys, dotted with trees. I must've stopped walking because my counselor was yelling my name.

When we got to "the bowl"(a pit on top of the cliff) they came up with the order. I was third to climb and last to repel. As I got my helmet on to climb, I gave my counselor my camera to take a picture.

I hooked my rope to the carabiner as my counselor put me on belay. I hopped onto the cliff and started climbing. At first it was easy but when I got to the "wall" there were no handholds!

After a couple minutes of struggling, I decided to jump. As I soared up, I grabbed for handholds left and right. When I got as high as I could, I got ready to make a second attempt.

I had a lucky break as I spotted the perfect handhold. I grabbed it and started climbing. When I got over the edge, I felt as though I won the lottery. The scene was more beautiful than before. The afternoon sun was sparkling on the lake.

When they called my name, I got up to go wait in line to go repelling. I strapped my harness on as the line inched forward.

When it was the person in front of me's turn (Wilson) they clipped him in and he muttered bye, and jumped.

After Wilson was done descending, they called my name. I walked over and they started hooking me to all kinds of carabiners. After they were done, I backed up to the edge.

I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I could feel my legs pushing off the edge and myself plummeting toward the ground. As my feet touched the ground I knew, I was doing that again.

Svageman Pictures

Savageman Video

I have not found a clip of me going up the wall... but if you can imagine it, I was after Chas (I saw him on the Wall with about three guys between us) and right before the guy who had the bad fall (You will hear "We Are the Champions"playing in the background, which is what I heard as I scaled the Wall). The videos below were taken by Pete Warner's wife Igda. I personally like the video with the guy who actually starts rolling backwards.

Chas: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=13sNSbv0ihk

bad fall: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iusiDneOhaI

guy going backwards on the right:http://www.youtube. com/watch? v=isg_rY4Njwc

Savageman Race Report

Short Version:
Savageman Half IM was the hardest race I’ve done yet. But I accomplished my goals of making it up Westernport Wall and finishing the race – which means I’ll have a brick with my name installed in the Wall along with everyone else who made it up and finished the race. I am happy with my race, although the further away I get from it, the more I second guess the effort I put forth. Immediately after the race, I felt like I could check the box on this race and move on. Now, I’m thinking I may have to try again…

Long Version:

I signed up for Savageman several months prior to the race date. I had so much fun being part of a relay (swimming) and volunteering last year that I just had to give the whole race a try this year. I went into this race with two goals in mind: 1) to make it up the Westernport Wall, a 100 foot 31% grade hill; and 2) to finish the race.

Pre-race
When I walked out of the house race morning, the air temperature felt warmer than what I was anticipating. This was good, but it meant second guessing my race attire. It wasn’t until I was in the transition area that I settled on my tri jersey with a long sleeve wicking jersey on top – both of which I would put on after the swim in order to stay as dry as possible. It seemed everyone else was going through the same debate – it was not an easy decision.

Swim
Similar to last year, the swim start was very foggy – but unlike last year, the start time was delayed for 20 minutes. It was still quite foggy when my wave (the first wave), started, but by the time I rounded the orange turn buoy, the sun was out and all was clear. The occasional passing motor boat made for an interesting ocean wave feel on the return leg. My swim was a little slower than I wanted, I think in part because I had a hard time sighting for the first half and secondly because I was purposely conserving energy for the remainder of the race.

T1
The path up to the transition area was long and uphill – true to Savageman style. Along the way I stubbed my toe – but chose to ignore it. Once in transition, I took my time to dry off completely, eat a Luna Bar, take my endurolytes and dress according to plan. The first 20 miles or so was mostly down hill, so it was important to dress warmly enough to be comfortable in the wind but not so warmly that the up hills were uncomfortable. In the end, I feel as though I struck a good balance.

Bike
The first 20 miles was fun, fun, fun! I love down hills. These hills were quite technical, so you couldn’t go at it with abandon, but they were still fast and fun. I was a little concerned though, that with only a few up hills, my legs were not getting the warm up I had hoped for going into the Wall.

Westernport Wall
Despite having come to Savageman last year, I was not able to make it to see the Wall, so on Saturday I checked it out. Driving up the hill that approaches the wall was intimidating in and of itself, but the sight of the actual Wall was awesome http://www.savagemantri.org/Westernport_Wall.html . My first practice attempt, I fell about half way up when my front wheel got stuck in a rut as I weaved up. Not only is the Wall steep, but it is laden with divits and ruts. Finding the right path is as import as leg power if you are going to be successful. So for my second practice attempt, I elected to go straight up the right side, and with a little self encouragement and some cheering from a couple bystanders, I made it up. My confidence got the shot it needed.

As I approached the Wall on race day my nerves were on overdrive. Taking Chas Ryan’s advice, I weaved up the hill approaching the Wall to keep my heart rate down and to keep the legs fresh. The line on the right side was clear when I got to the base of the Wall so I stood up and yelled "GO, GO, GO" to myself until I was up and across the line. And then it was over – I did it. I gave myself a congratulatory yell and then looked up to see that I still had a big hill to climb. Not sure how I missed seeing the hill the day before – in retrospect I was only concerned with the Wall itself but should have looked beyond it. And when I turned the next corner, the hill only got longer! It was clear that the remainder of the bike was not going to be as easy as the first 20 miles.

The Rest of the Bike
It seemed like the last 36 miles were all up hill – and big steep hills at that. The high I felt after making it up the Wall quickly faded as I trudged up one hill after another. Each hill was marked with the length, grade and Cat number. I’m not sure if it helped, but at least it gave me a sense for how long I would have to withstand the misery. On a couple hills, like Killer Miller (the name says it all) I had to weave in order to make up. There were several people on many hills that had to walk, and I knew there was no shame in it, but sill…

If I do this race again, I will not make the mistake of think that the Wall is the hardest part of course. The hardest part is the cumulative affect of all the hills that follow the Wall. I am truly psyched that I made it up the Wall – but next time I want to be strong enough to attack the rest of the course more aggressively.

At one point I started to feel a wet sticky sensation in my right shoe and I was reminded of my stubbed toe. Once again – I had to ignore it, because there was nothing I could do, but hope it wouldn’t affect my run.

T2
Often in races as I approach T2, I have to be reminded to slow down as I approach the dismount line. This time, as I approached I asked the volunteer, as I slowly rolled to the line if I had to get to the line before dismounting. She chuckled, but I sensed she’d already heard the question from previous riders.

I racked my bike and took my shoes off to find the tip of my sock soaked with blood. I was feeling very fortunate that I brought extra socks. I cleaned my foot up and put on the fresh socks. It was a long T2.

Run
I did not have my running legs right away, so I walked out of transition and started running soon after. Fortunately the first part of the run was generally flat, so I could ease into a rhythm. Unfortunately, my toe was beginning to hurt – sort of like a mild sprain. It was more a nuisance, but it was annoying nonetheless. The first lap was really hard. I had to walk up the steep hills, my legs just were not listening to me reason with them. I so wanted to run this whole course…next year (did I just say next year?). I started to feel pretty good the second loop. My toe was not hurting as much and with each step and my legs were loosening up. I was running up the first steep hill of the loop and feeling pretty proud of myself when my left Achilles seized – not too much, but enough to remind me it was there and enough to make me stop running. I started running again and about 5 minutes later my Achilles yelled at me again. How annoying! I tried running with my toes flexed (seemed intuitively the right thing to do), but every couple minutes, it would act up and I would have to stop running abruptly.

Knowing I had to finish the race in order to get my brick, I conservatively jogged/walked the rest of the race. As I approached the finish line, I sped up a little only to be jolted by the pain. I envisioned myself crawling over the finish! But I made it over upright; I got my medal and the satisfaction of knowing I earned a brick in the Wall.

I am proud of my effort. I know I could have run faster, but some things are out of my control. It was a little dissatisfying at first, but then after thinking about it, I realized that I finished a race that many would never attempt. I know I probably should not even attempt to do half IMs at this point in my life as I have so many other things going on, but something keeps drawing me to them. Savageman was a hard race and one that I was pretty sure I would not do again immediately after finishing. But now knowing what I do about the course, I would do things differently – both in training and race execution. So I’ll give it a couple of months and who knows… maybe I’ll try to earn a second brick!

Brendan's Luray Pictures

I did the Luray International and Sprint races a couple weeks ago. I brought my oldest son, Brendan, with me and to keep him occupied during the races, I gave him my digital camera. On the first day he took close to 400 pictures, mostly of people I do not know -which is kind of surprising given the number of people I knew doing the race! It was even more surprising that of all the picture he took, only three were of me. When I asked him why he took so many pictures of people he didn't know, he explained that he was practicing for when I came by.

Unfortunately, the "practice" pictures, turned out far better then the pictures of me!

General Smallwood Sprint

"Okay... just settle down," the voice in my head was trying to calm me. " Let the air come. Don't force it." Panicking during the swim happens to other people, not me. I'm a swimmer - at least I used to be. Now I was hoping just to get through the swim, heck I was hoping to take another stroke. I was as close as I have ever been to waving the kayaks over.

I signed up for the General Smallwood International Distance Race several months ago, but switched to the sprint distance the day before the race. For a variety of reasons, I was not feeling prepared for the longer distance. This race was the first of two official DC Luna Chix races, where the whole team either races, volunteers or both. I love being part of a team - the camaraderie and the support on race day is awesome.

On race morning, the Luna Chix team and friends gathered at the tent and then headed down to the swim start. There was quite a bit of time before my wave, so it was nice to have team mates to hang out with. The women's international wave started early enough ahead of the women's sprint wave that we were able to cheer Katie out of the water (she was the second woman out!).

A couple minutes later and I was in the water with the rest of the women doing the sprint race. I was doing this race with no expectations except to get a good, though expensive, brick work out. My focus on the swim - long strokes, roll the body and sight often. I tend not to sight and often find myself adding significant yardage to the swim, so I planned to sight frequently. And that's when it happened: I picked up my head and I got a foot to the jaw and water where I should have gotten air. I tried over and over to get a breath, but nothing I was getting no air. I tredded water and thought to myself, "alright - calm down, let the air come because if you don't you won't finish this race." (When I told this to my neighbor he laughed and said, " You know, most people would be concerned about drowning. You, on the other hand, were thinking about the race." - perhaps I should reassess my priorities!) After what seemed like minutes, but I am sure were only seconds, I was swimming again and with each breath the air came easier. If I harbored any expectations for the race, they were gone.

I exited the water and jogged up the long path to the transition area, where I changed into my bike gear. I am really starting to love the bike. I did not preview the course beforehand so I did not know the second half was almost all down hill. I love the speed! It seemed I did all the passing while on the bike - in fact, I don't think I was passed by any women at all. Still - it was no where near race effort. I had a good ride, but definitely could have gone faster. As much as I enjoy the bike, I struggle with the run.

The second quarter mile was up hill and I was passed by several racers, including a woman from my age group. It's just a training run - not race...right? Well darn it anyway! The last mile and a half of the run was through a wooded path. I love trail runs, so I picked up the pace a bit. I ran across a little bridge and up the small hill to the finish line. It was a good work out. I put in a good effort to be sure, but I was far from spent.

I headed over to the Luna Chix Tent and met up with Emily. We cheered in the rest of the Luna Chix team as they crossed the finish. Emily scouted the early result postings and was cautiously excited as it appeared she took first for her age group in the sprint. Katie also took first in her age group in the international race. So I decided to hang around a bit, eat some barbecue and cheer my teammates as they took their place on the podium. They were giving chairs instead of hardware...nice. When my name was called for third place in my age group, I felt like a 6 year old opening a birthday present. It was a silly giddy feeling - "really me...but I didn't really race!" It was a complete surprise and the first time I've ever placed. Of course, now that I've had time to review the results, I have to chuckle a bit. There were only 14 women racing in my age group and I suspect many of them were beginners. This couple with the fact that I did not give it my best race effort.... But still, I got a chair!

Wild Wonderful 24 Hour Adventure Race - Part Two

When I arrived at my house after driving home from the race, my kids ran up to me - first to give me a hug and then to count the bruises, scrapes and scratches. There were a lot to count. My husband was right behind the kids and he simply asked - "... so when are you doing the next one?" He knew, as did I, that doing this race would mean that I would get hooked and doing just one would not be enough. I had a dim thought of doing an adventure race one day, but I purposely did not want to do one because I was afraid that I would add it to my growing list of hobbies. Time is precious - and I am simply running out of it. But the opportunity to do an adventure race presented itself during the month I took off between jobs and I'm glad I took it.

From what I've gathered, no two adventure races are the same. They can consist of a variety of elements, including water sport (swimming, white water, kayaking, etc), trekking, ropes, mountain biking, to name a few. They can range in time from a couple hours to a couple days. The Wild Wonderful Adventure Race was a 24 hour race consisting of white water rafting, trekking, mountain biking and an optional orienteering course.

I spent the week before the race at the Odyssey Adventure Academy (see previous blog) with nine other racers and most of us went on from the academy to race. My team consisted of two other academy participants - Curtis and Andreas. Unlike the other teams, none of us knew each other prior to the academy, and it was clear from the beginning that managing personalities would become as difficult as the physical aspect of the race. I often referred to Andreas, a 31 year old software engineer from Uruguay who is temporarily stationed in Memphis, as the "bad boy from South America." Curtis was far more conservative and a bit of a geek. By the end of the academy he managed to alienate just about every other participant. At the very least he prompted many eye rolls. He was however, a great navigator - something I clearly was not.
As for me - I have my own flaws and my lack of patience came out often - particularly as I became more and more exhausted. At times it felt as though we were stopping every couple minutes, to get our barrings or change clothes, etc. when I just wanted to ride or walk. Curtis and Andreas - on more than one occasion had to remind me that we had a long race and stopping was inevitable. The three of us did not have much in common, but in the end we really did not have much opportunity to hang out and talk anyway.

The race started with white water rafting. Teams were placed on rafts based on lottery with 7-8 total people per boat. We ended up with the perfect storm resulting in what I believe to be a last place finish in that stage of the race. First each team had to select a member to run up stairs, down a little hill, jump into the water and swim to the raft. Most rafts had two teams and thus two swimmers. We had four teams - a team of three, a team of two and two solo racers. We were only as fast as the slowest swimmer and unfortunately one of the solo racers was pretty darn slow. We also only had seven paddlers, while most other boats had eight. And just to put the final nail in the coffin - our guide, Stan, announced that last time he did a race like this one - his boat placed last. In fact, the only person who nearly got ejected from the boat was Stan. Despite the less than stellar finish, the water was high so we got to go through a number of class 3-5 rapids.

After the white water, we transitioned to the first trek along the Endless Wall. With in the first hour of the trek, I slipped and hit my knee squarely on a rock. Andreas asked me if I was okay. I replied "Don't ask me again, because I'm afraid if I think about it I'll have to stop, sit on a rock and cry." Yeah - it hurt... a lot! It bruised and swelled and fancied a couple scrapes, but as I continued, it hurt less and less. We came across the first couple check points with relatively no problem until CP 4. There were about six teams hanging around a flag that didn't seem quite right according to the coordinates. The navigators all huddled and discussed until someone finally called the race management. He described the location of the flag and mentioned that it did seem quite right. The person on the other end of the line, suggested we punch our passport and move on. She took a list of all the teams for further reference. We punch and were ready to move on - but by this time Andreas had disappeared. I whistled, I yelled and I got very annoyed. He had gone off exploring and now we could not find him. After several minutes, we finally located him and continued on - but not after letting him know that he had to stay with in 100 feet of his teammates per the rules. We caught up with the other teams by the time reached CP 5 about 6 hours into race. CP 5 was the transition to bikes and we were all looking forward to getting off our feet for a bit. BUT - as we were getting our bikes ready we over heard another team talking to the race director, apparently the flag we thought was a check point was actually mistakenly left up from the previous race several months ago. We were very disappointed to learn that we had to trek back to the real CP 4 and return to CP 5. This mistake cost us nearly an hour - more than physically - it wore us down mentally.

When we finally made it back to CP 5, we discovered that Andreas had a flat. It seemed like we were never going to get beyond CP 5! Andreas was quick with the tire change and we were off to to check points 5a and 6. We went screaming down a hill in search of CP 6 when I discovered that I had no back brakes... scary. We pulled over to fix them and a solo rider walked past us on the steep incline. We said hello and asked how far he thought CP 6 was - and that is when we found out that it was actually behind us. It wasn't too far distance wize, but we would have to work our way up the huge hill we just came down. Another costly mistake!

There were several points where we were unsure of our direction, but after a while I learned that Curtis did best if he went on his first instinct then when he second guessed himself - so I was the one who after listening to his options - generally pushed him towards his first direction. Most of the time he was right on. We ended spending over 10 hours on the bikes mostly at night. Andreas nearly fell asleep as we rode and swerved several times. We ran out of water at 3AM and had to re-fill at a stream. Right before dawn my front lamp began to dim, but we made the bike cut off and thus could continue to check point 11. Unfortunately, we did not make it in time to do the long course, so we had to settle for the short course (which seems like a misnomer to me...).

We transitioned from bikes back to trekking and I was ready to move... once again my teammates had to urge me to be patient. I think because I was moving slower to stay with the team, I started to fade - I did most of the trek out to CP 11 with my eyes closed. I think Andreas was completely a sleep - yet still walking. After the check in and turn around at 11 I got my second wind and as I walked back to the finish - this time with my eyes opened, I was amazed at what I had traversed with my eyes closed!

We reached the finish line and successfully completed the short course in less than 24 hours. We opted to get at least one optional orienteering point. We found one and then lost the concentration to go after any more. I was exhausted and ready to be done. We returned to the finish line, grabbed some food and started talking to other racers. I had to chuckle when I found myself asking other racers about good races to do in the fall... yeah, I'll be doing another!

Adventure Academy and Race - Part One

What a great week! When I took off a month between jobs, I promised myself that I would do something entirely for me. My plan was to go away for a week all by myself - no kids and no husband. This sounds selfish, and it probably is - but man was it great!

Given the uncertainty of when I would be leaving one job and starting the next, I did not have much time to plan my trip. I knew I wanted to go some place where I could play and sweat - what ever I did, I wanted to go at it hard! I searched the internet for options. I looked a vacation packages and camps. I soon focused in on surfing camps and adventure camps. Surfing in Costa Rica looked like a blast, but since I had waited so long to make a reservation, the flight was over $1500 - thus making the trip financially unreasonable. So adventure camp it was...

I quickly weeded out those camps that had pictures out of shape people on their site. I soon focused on Odyssey Adventure Academy - a 5 day camp that culminated in a 24 hour race. I rationalized all the gear I had to purchase by comparing it to the cost of the plane ticket to Costa Rica. Besides - I knew I'd use the gear again and it helped that REI was having its annual sale!

There were 9 students at the academy. Some were experienced adventure racers and other, like me, who had no experience at all. I was the first one to show up at Camp Washington Carver near New River Gorge in West Virginia. The gates were closed and a quick stroll through the camp revealed no one. I was beginning to fret that I sent my money to a black hole! Fortunately another person showed up, and then another until there were seven of us hanging out at the locked gate, wondering if there was in fact a camp. There was no cell phone service at the camp. After about an hour we left as a group to find a location with cell service - when we finally able to reach a live person, we learned that the location of the camp had changed. Apparently none of us got the e-mail... At least we didn't have to go through any of those silly ice breaking exercises, since we all got to know each other while we hung out at the locked gate. Everyone had a great sense of humor, and I was looking forward to a fun week.

When we finally made it to the correct location, we were shown to our lodging. A 20' x 20' cabin with a loft. Six of of us were to sleep there - four women and two men. Good thing we all liked each other!

The first day was repelling and ascending. We spent the morning learning techniques and safety and headed to the cliffs in the afternoon. The repelling was awesome! What a high. I headed over to the "lobster claw"climb next. Two people had gone before me up this wall. Mike, a very fit and experienced adventure racer, scaled the wall with some difficulty but made it all the way up. The next woman got stuck at a very difficult section and ultimately gave up. When it was my turn and when I got to this same section of the climb, I refused to stop trying. It took a lot of coaching from the instructors and some pure gutting out but I made it through the section. The rest of the climb was tough, but the adrenaline got me through it.

Day two we learned navigation. Despite the great instruction, it was clear from the get go that navigation was where I was going to struggle the most... After doing classroom work in the morning, we headed out to the park to test of our knowledge. Before leaving, we packed up our gear in our packs. Because of our tight quarters, I left some things in my car that I had to retrieve for the day's activities. After getting what I need out I slammed the door shut (the car was parked at a side angle and the door needed a hard slam to close). I was horrified when I realized my finger was caught in the door. I had to drop everything out of my other hand so that I could open the car door to release my finger. I took a quick look at the cut and bent finger to confirm no broken bones. The cut was pretty deep, and I knew I was going to need at least a butterfly band aid. I made my way up to the main cabin where every was waiting to leave and found a fellow participant who I knew was a doctor in real life. He took a look and confirmed I would probably need something to avoid infection and to help it heal faster. I thought it would be okay to do the afternoon field work first and then we could pick up some durabond and steri stripes at the pharmacy. One of the instructors went to work cleaning my finger and and bandaging it up, during which I got more and more light headed, until I eventually was looking up at three faces all of which were asking if I was okay. Yep - I passed out! In the process I hit my chin on the fireplace and scraped it up pretty good. Now the Doc was checking my face to see if I broke my cheek bones! They all laughed when I said "you guys are still going to let me go today - right?" They did let me go - taped up fingers, bleeding chin and all. Since there was no durabond or steri strips to be found, I headed out to the closest urgent care facility and they took care of the finger. The emergency doctor and I had a little disagreement over whether I could continue doing the adventure camp... I won. I was back at the camp and I was able to grab a quick bite of dinner before heading out for nigh navigation.

Day three was canoeing and kayaking. Good thing we are building a new garage... cause I'm going to need the space for the new kayak! Day four we spent another day on the water white water rafting. In addition to all the field work I've described above we had class room work on first aid, back pack packing, foot care etc. We also did a little mountain biking and trekking. In all the earliest I went to bed all week was 11 PM the latest was 3 AM and averaged about 1 AM. By Friday I was beat and I still had a 24 hour race on Saturday! Stay tuned for my next entry about the race...

Is Doing it All Too Much?

I recently wrote about “doing it all” (see previous blog entry). I read an article a couple weeks ago about how people are squeezing “31 hours of tasks in a 24 hour day” by multi-tasking using a plethora of electronic devices(http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/uk/article3735970.ece). Are we all really that consumed with trying to do all? When is doing it all too much? And most importantly – are we setting unrealistic or unhealthy examples for our kids?

I am currently between jobs and I’ve taken a month off to relax, rejuvenate and start my new job re-energized. During my first week off I learned that… well, I don’t know how to relax. Heading into the week, I planned to read a book, write, spend time with the boys and work-out. But as I sat down to read my first book, I'd found my mind drifting to the things I "should"be doing. So instead of relaxing, I headed to Home Depot to buy a door, I got both cars serviced, I cleaned out two closets, I raked the front yard, and so on. As the week came to close, I could feel myself stressing that a week had already passed and, despite all that I had done, I really hadn’t done anything!

I sit a local coffee shop as I write this entry because I know that if I sit at home, I will feel compelled to switch the laundry from washer to dryer, to empty the dish washer, make the bed and pick up shoes – man we have a lot of shoes! At night, I watch an hour of TV during which I fold a load or two of laundry. If I watch TV without folding, I feel guilty. No one makes me feel that way except me. Sleeping past seven o’clock - like I did on Mother’s Day - is a guilty pleasure reserved for holidays. Of course, I didn’t actually sleep since the kids came into my room every five minutes to encourage me to sleep until they were finished making breakfast.

A couple days ago, my oldest came to me before going to bed and started to cry uncontrollably. When I finally calmed him down, he explained that he had not done his homework for two days. When I asked him why he hadn’t done his work, he said that sometimes he just wants to play. Brendan is a very responsible and smart kid so his response hit a chord with me – every kid should be able to play! A couple days later I met with the teachers to see how we could relieve some of the stress. His teacher looked at me and simply said – "Your son wants to be like you. He sees you doing it all and he thinks he can do it too." Ouch.

The night after Brendan’s crying out burst, he actually came to me and asked how I do it all. Without much thought, I told him that I just find away. I now realize that I could not have responded more inappropriately. What Brendan doesn’t see or know is that some things don’t get done… or they take far longer than perhaps they should. Our basement is piled with so much stuff, that I will not let anyone outside the family down there for fear of embarrassment. We have more “junk drawers”then most people have junk. And until last week, my closet was such a mess that finding anything was chore. Oh – and it has been year since I washed my car. I pay people to do things that my parents did themselves.

So how do I do it all? First off, I sometimes don’t do it very well – but deciding what is important help set priorities. Family will always come first for me. Leading a fit life style comes next and my professional career is also up there. If you see me doing it all... it is usually focused in one of those three areas.

Next week I head to West Virginia to participate in an Adventure Camp culminating with a 24 hour Adventure Race. My kids are jealous. Mountain biking, rock climbing, repelling, trekking…I can’t think of anything more fun - except perhaps a surfing camp in Costa Rica (next time)! So this week I WILL relax. I will read a book, I will sit in coffee shops writing, and I will pick up the kids early from school. I will write a little and maybe even take a nap. I will do this all - and I will not feel guilty!

A Tri- Personality

I wrote this article for the Spring Edition of the DC Tri Magazine:

I lead a triple life: I am a mother, a full-time career woman and a very amateur triathlete. With few exceptions, my three lives seem to exist exclusive of each other. Yet the most frequently asked question from all three groups is “How do you do it all?” I will never assert that I have the answer to that question. In fact, at times, I believe I am a complete failure. But stories of failure, whether perceived or real, are just as important to tell, because “doing it all” can be hard!

The realization of just how separate each of my lives can be occurred to me after the Reston Century Bike Ride last August. I had a vague idea of doing a long ride that Sunday and set my sights on fifty to sixty miles but I had not yet signed up for the Reston ride. Friday morning I emailed my regular training buddies and suggested we do the Reston Metric Century (65 miles). After a couple more e-mail exchanges the ante was upped and we all agreed to do the full century (100 miles). By the time the ride started I was talked into doing the double metric (125 miles). It was a good group of riders and I was looking forward to a fun but challenging ride.
While it was clear that I was out of my league, I managed to keep up with the group - at least initially. The group with which I was riding were all very good age group triathletes and I am at best, a middle of the packer. In fact, compared to the other very fit and lean women in our group - I felt like an out of shape, overweight imposter. In stark contrast, when I attended a camp presentation by my oldest son and his fellow campers a week earlier, I looked around the room at the other fifteen or so 35 to 45 year old mothers and just about every one of them was truly overweight. To them, I may as well have been an elite athlete. My kids are easily the most important thing in my life and I am proud that I can exemplify a healthy and fit lifestyle. I am convinced that the fitness I have gained through triathlon will ensure that I will be around to watch my kids grow old.

One of the many reasons I enjoy biking is the opportunity it provides to really talk - and a good conversation makes the miles just melt away. I love talking about my kids; but I’ve realized that unless you have your own kids, hearing kid stories can only be tolerated in small doses. Since most of the triathletes with whom I train do not have children, riding conversations tend to revolve around upcoming races, plans for future training, coaches and the like. Conversely, at the school bus stop, we talk almost exclusively about our kids and discussions about my races are usually limited to someone asking the distance of each leg, followed by a shaking of their head and then a quick diversion to the latest school gossip. I’ve also come to realize that talking about my professional career in risk management is a non-started with triathletes. No matter how you slice it, buying insurance just isn’t that interesting. At the office, similar to the bus stop, a discussion about a race is usually limited to someone asking the distance of each leg, followed by a shaking of their head and then a quick diversion to the latest work gossip.

At some point during the Reston ride, a group decision was made that 110 miles was sufficient as it was a hot, humid day, so we decided on a course that veered slightly off the marked Reston route. I had a vague idea of where we were, but figured I was with a larger group and I would just continue following them. While we were still on the marked route, we came upon spray painted directions on the road that provided for two options – turn right for a “hilly” ride or continue straight for the “more hilly” option. I was horrified as I watch the group go straight. I’m pretty sure I rolled backwards a couple times going up that long steep hill. I was the last of the group to make it up, over and down the hill where the group was waiting. I told them that for the rest of the ride they shouldn’t feel obligated to wait for me as I wasn’t sure if I could maintain their pace for the next 30 miles. Besides, based on my recall and their description of our newly planned route, everything eventually ran into the W&OD trail.

Well, I missed the trail - by seven miles. By the time I doubled back and eventually found the turn off to the W&OD trail, I had gone nearly 14 additional miles. I finally made it back to Reston Town Center where my group was just finishing their post ride meals. I proudly announced that I just had completed 123 miles. They cheered, congratulated me and laughed with me as I described my misadventure. Despite being extremely tired, I felt good.

The e-mail banter among the group started that evening, where everyone chimed in about having a great time on the ride. The banter quickly turned to training plans for the upcoming week: swimming on Wednesday, riding on Thursday and so on. As I read the e-mails, I had a slight twinge of jealousy because for me, Wednesday meant football practice for one kid, Thursday was soccer practice for the younger two kids, and so on. But as I watched Brendan make an interception, Ethan score a goal and Seth explore bugs in the dirt piles on the soccer field, I realized that “doing it all” is worth it.

DC Tri Magazine Spring 2008