Category Archives: Marathon

Kona 2011 Run

Posted on October 13, 2011 by goSonja| 19 Comments

As I headed out of transition I immediately knew I was in trouble. I was feeling hot and nauseous and my tummy felt mucho ill. But I felt like my splits were right where I wanted them to be. I ran through the hot corner, and saw my family. It was great to hear all of their voices loud and clear and they were full of good jobs and way to gos.

After my first mile I could tell that I needed a port a pottie and I was getting in a tight spot. I went through 2 aid stations looking for one and never saw one. I also started drinking coke and I remember thinking “who starts Coke at mile two, you are so screwed.” I remember running past a few port-a-potties on our training runs, but couldn’t find one.

I was now officially in a tight spot, and needed a potty like several minutes ago. I started looking for a bush. It took a mile to find one, still no port a pottie. I found a bush and I hated every minute of it. It felt like my entire intestinal track just turned itself inside out. In my mind all I can say is “Oh crap oh crap oh crap.”

I got out and running again, only about 1 minute delay for the pottie stop. I will remind you here that the only time I have had to use the potty in an Ironman is Kona. Kona is such a different beast. I can not quite describe it but everything here is a little more “real” and you are made to pay for every mistake you make.

After the pit stop I went through a really bad period. I have never felt this bad in an Ironman and the only time I have felt worse was at the end of the Moab 100 miler. I was hurting and I can’t quite describe it other than just feeling ill and crappy. My mind played many tricks with me during this time. I remember thinking “This is going to be a 14 hour day” and “My luck has run out.” None of these phrases are things you want going through your head.

I remember using every trick I had in the book to keep going strong. I looked at my watch and picked a heart rate to nail. I kept myself accountable to that heart rate. I started chanting crazy things. “One and done” was in there, “PR or ER” was in there. There was a particularly sadistic section of “Eat the Pain.” I don’t know where I come up with this stuff, but it just pops into my head.

In front of Lava Java Troy was there and I looked at him and said “I feel horrible.” There was nothing poor Troy could say, by the time it registered I was gone. However, the guy running next to me said “You need to eat, get down calories.” For some reason I believed him. First I had to get up Palani. Oh Palani, I think I ran 10 minute pace up Palani. It was really bad. I saw Keith there just before Palani and told him how I was feeling. He told me to keep going, to be strong. You can read so much in the eyes of Ironman athletes. It’s like you can see into my soul in this photo. All the work, all the training, it doesn’t mean a darn thing when you are out there. Trow it out the window, and go chase your pain.

I didn’t feel very strong but once on the Queen K I started to pound the calories. I had been taking Coke since mile 2 but now I was drinking Coke, Perform, eating oranges, and pretty much having a buffet out there. By mile 13ish I was coming around and starting to feel much better. Once that happened I tried to put my nose down and RUN.

The hills out there are pretty big and it’s hard to keep consistent mile splits but I just tried to do what I could. The Natural Energy Lab was a lot more fun this year as I was feeling a tad bit better than last year. I saw Kendra ahead of me at the turn around, she had 2 minutes on me and was screaming at me to come get her. I tried. I tried for 8 miles, but I never even caught sight of her. Two Kompetitive Edge girls finished within 2 minutes of each other. We were proud of that one.

The last part back through the Queen K I just tried to stay strong and run on the edge. This race is such a hard race. As I write this, “hard” is all I can think. It was hard. I tried to stay strong, talk nice to myself, never loose hope, and doing all of that was really hard. I felt that sub 10 was not a possibility any more but I thought sub 10:10 still was so I worked hard towards that goal.

The final mile was quite sad. I ran hard up the Iron War hill and I passed a lady that wasn’t in my age group, she was 35-39 and a guy on the side of the road was telling her she had to run strong to keep her 3rd place. That was hard for me to hear. I knew I was in 10th in my age group, and she is a few years older than me and was in 3rd. I was actually envious. Add to that how much I hurt and let’s just say the F-bombs were flying all willy nilly around in my head.

This is what you look like when you see the finish line…stay away from the light! I look like I am running to my death and I’m happy about it.

The girl stayed with me and then we made the turn down Palani. I ran really hard but it all hurt a lot and it was the first time I had this feeling that I might not make it. I made the turn on Kuakini and I knew I needed to conserve myself. I was not doing well, my vision was not acting normal and I had flashbacks of Paula N-F sitting at the banyon tree with her shoes off.

Turning onto Hualalai I got passed back by the girl that wasn’t in my age group and I barely cared. I was so glad to see the Banyon tree on Ali’i and I was still a bit nervous about making it. I did make it, and I tried to do a little jump at the finish but I was not really successful at getting both feet off the ground.

The most fake smile that I could muster…and it was completely fake. I wanted to lay down in the fetal position right there.

I was in bad shape and my catchers had their hands full with me for about 10 minutes. At all the other IMs they seem to head you toward medical if you are “on the edge” but at Kona they seem to not do this. They try to get you to come around and then hand you to family. I saw Grant and Kendra and was released to them. I want to post a picture of Kendra at the finish line because it’s awesome. She went 10:06 and was so solid all frickin’ day. Amazing!

I was exhausted. But within a few minutes the endorphins set in and I was smiling and happy. 10:08:44 this year in Kona, 10th in my AG, 19th amateur woman, 39th female, 536th overall. A years worth of work specifically for this race and it netted me 9 minutes. 4 in the swim, 4 on the bike, 30 seconds in transition, and 30 seconds on the run. I’ll take it.

In the video I said I wanted to flirt with the 10 hour mark. Well, I flirted, and this year it turned me down. But that’s ok, I’ll be back again to give it another go. This race is one of the most demanding and RAW experiences you can go though as an endurance athlete. You find out what you are made of out there, you find your demons and the chinks in your armor are revealed.

Congratulations to all of those that I raced with, you all showed so much grit out there. Thank you to my sponsors, Kompetitive Edge, TYR, Quintana Roo, GoalZero, Punk Rock Racing, Love Grown Granola, First Endurance, Nathan, Tri-Massage, and Nuun. Thank you to my family/friends who traveled so far to cheer for me out there: Troy, Annie, mom, dad, Norm, Grace, T, Kyle, Kirk, Melissa, Keith, Nancy, Jared, Peter, Mark.

Thanks Michelle, for being my Partner in Crime, my PIC, and congratulations on being #1111 and going 11:11:11. Here’s to many more!

 

Posted in Family, Ironman, Marathon, Race Report, Running, Travel, Triathlon

11:50

Posted on May 26, 2011 by goSonja| 27 Comments

As we got to know Patricia over the weekend I think all three of us just felt a special sort of magic coming together. Patricia knew by the time that the race started that she had free reign to race as fast as she liked, that she didn’t have to put on a smile for us, and that this experience was all about her, all for her.

Michelle and I completely underestimated just how hard the race would be on us. Patricia is strong like bull and we spent 11 hours and 50 minutes racing hard in order to guide and enable her to do her best.

And her best she did indeed do.

Patricia Walsh is the fastest blind Ironman athlete on the planet. Period.

Patricia broke the female blind Ironman record by 4 hours, and she broke the male blind record by 55 minutes. She absolutely killed it.

So, here is the story from my perspective, as a first time guide, helping Patricia through the marathon portion of Ironman Texas.

The night before we all decided that the King size bed in our room would be more comfortable than the pull out bed we also had in the room. Yes, all three of us slept in that king bed, and while Patricia’s night was restless, I think Michelle and I slept like logs. The complete lack of nervousness was a bit odd I must say.

Ironman is always an early morning and we were up and at ‘em. I had the unique view of being able to get pretty much anywhere on the course using my “I’m her guide” phrase and I enjoyed a front row seat to the swim start that morning. I helped the girls with bags and caps and sunscreen. They headed into the water with the pros, tethered at the waist by a piece of bungee cord.

When the gun went off for the pros, the PC athletes went with them as well. I watched Michelle and Patricia until I couldn’t see them any more. They looked like they found a good rhythm, swimming side by side, their strokes matching perfectly. Patricia said it was the first race where she hasn’t panicked in the water. The sensory deprivation in the water for her can be quite alarming. I kinda think that Michelle had something to do with it, she has a calming presence in the water.

Then I booked it over to the swim finish and watched the top swimmers come in. Ironman Texas is awesome to watch the end of the swim because they swim up a little canal. I expected the girls around 1:30 and right around then I saw two orange caps coming down the canal amongst a ton of AGers. I ran down the canal and Michelle poked her head up and asked for a Mix1 in transition.

Patricia is in the orange cap

I booked it to transition using my golden phrase “Blind athletes guide”. I grabbed Patricia and Michelle’s transition bag and followed them into the tent. Blind athletes tend to get swarmed by volunteers so I kept them at bay and set out everything for Michelle and Patricia. What seemed like 30 seconds later they were running out of the tent.

I followed them as they grabbed the tandem, ran out of transition, mounted perfectly, and they were off.

I, of course was taking pictures the whole time.

Phew!

I was tired! Matt gave me a ride back to the hotel where I took some down time, watched the race on Ironman live, and tweeted away.

The girls were riding really fast and when their 58 mile split came in at 2:55 I knew I had to book it back to transition. They came in with a 5:45 bike split! The tandem has it’s share of issues. Some things make them faster, some slower. Michelle can tell you better about that.

I found my way back to transition and before I knew it, the girls were running through transition and I was sprinting to keep up with them. We grabbed bags, I helped Patricia with her shoes and out we went. Patricia and I were now tethered at the waist.

Immediately Patricia told me that she needed to focus and that we need to keep all words relevant to running. This was her nice way of saying “Don’t chat, just do your job”. It took me awhile to settle into my job. How much notice does she need before a turn? Turns out a lot less than I would have though. By the end of the marathon I wasn’t even saying “left”, I just had to go left and Patricia knew.

Going through a marathon in this manner was quite interesting. Not having any control over pace was harder than I expected. You know when you get to that point in a marathon where going faster almost feels better. I hit that place a few times.

Also, being so verbal with other athletes was totally foreign. Patricia was constantly passing tons of people and we were on bike path sorts of terrain. With a three loop course it was packed out there and we had to bob and weave through many. I started out saying “On your left” and then loved the reaction people would give when we passed, seeing that they had just been Blicked (Blind Chicked).

Then it morphed to “Two runners on your left” and that was also fun to hear what people would say after we passed. Then finally, at the end I was yelling “Blind runner on your left”, and surprisingly, people were less likely to move over. It was odd, once people knew they were getting passed by a blind runner, their ego set in. A few guys really had a big issue with it, but 98% of people were super supportive and gave us lots of love.

I spent a lot of time “yelling”

Speaking of love, the crowd on the last lap was insane. They were going wild for Patricia, at that point she was running in the 8 min pace range and we were flying by people. She gave a fist pump and the crowd irrupted and suddenly she knew all those cheers were for her. I had known for miles. She picked it up big time and we were running side by side, so strong, racing for that finish.

Patricia had her issues out there on the course, every Ironman athlete does.  I learned a lot about Ironman racing to watch her battle those issues, to watch her problem solve. It was extremely enlightening. I thought about what I would have done, but I didn’t offer suggestions. I was there to let her race her race, not my race. She figured things out, she used her intuition and I think that’s a lesson we can all learn from.

Michelle joined us for the run down the finishing stretch. We ran in the three of us, side by side with Patricia sprinting away. I hadn’t told Patricia where she was at time wise for the last 6 miles. She was running strong and I didn’t feel the need to motivate her by telling her splits. When she crossed the finish line she asked “What did we go?” I said 11:50 and she said “Including the PRO start?” and I said “yes” and she lost it. She was jumping up and down and so excited and jazzed and happy. That made the whole thing worth it.

All in all it was one of the hardest marathons I have run, even though I think it was 4:15. It was hot and humid, and I had the weight of doing Patricia right on my shoulders. I was anxious to do a good job. I made some guiding mistakes. I got Patricia tangled up at one point, I talked too much at another point. I made quite a few rookie errors, but Patricia got it done despite my newbieness.

By the end of the run I felt like we had it together, and I do feel that Patricia was able to run to her potential. We are all so proud of her! My horizons were broadened this week. Many people have said to me this last week “What a wonderful thing for you to do for Patricia”. Honestly, after living the experience I say “What a wonderful thing for Patricia to do for me”. I was given many more gifts this weekend than I gave. My heart was soaring on Saturday evening, and I felt a deep calm and pride that I haven’t ever felt.

Thank you Patricia for inspiring me, for reminding me, that while you may be blind, you see much more than I do at times. I will forever be greatful for the lessons you have taught me. AND,  I am so darn proud of you!

Thanks as well to Matt at CDifferent for asking us to do this, to everyone who gave us rides around in Texas (there were lots of you), to Mac with Quintana Roo for helping with the bike, to David (a new friend, and his blind son Brandon is now an Ironman as well), and finally to Kompetitive Edge for all they do for Michelle and I.

You all supported us with tweets, retweets, facebook messages, and oodles of electronic love. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!!

If you ever get a chance to guide a blind athlete, or work with any of the PC athletes out there, I highly recommend it. It will change your life. You will have a new appreciation for the sport that you do and you will think differently about your place in the sport as well. Patricia is an inspiration to every single person she meets, she uses athletics to push herself, and in turn she gives others a different perspective. Me included.

Posted in Ironman, Marathon, Race Report, Running, Travel, Triathlon

Ironman Texas – Team PIC Style

Posted on May 21, 2011 by goSonja| 8 Comments

This weekend is going to go down in history as one of the best, I just know it. Michelle and I find ourselves in one of the most cool positions this weekend. We have been given the honor of guiding Patricia Walsh through Ironman Texas. Patricia is a blind athlete from Seattle who was just named to the 2011 USA Paratriathlon National Team. She’s fast, she’s fit, and she’s ready to storm the castle. Read here for a great article NUUN put out on all of us.

Patricia’s guide backed out just a few weeks ago and Michelle and I were asked to step in and assume the guiding roll. Michelle will swim 2.4 miles and bike 112 miles, and I will run 26.2 miles with her. It’s going to rock.

There are a few things I just want to highlight about guiding, and about Patricia. Okay, one…there is a current rule rolling around (not 100% sure where it’s gaining steam) but the rule that’s being thrown around is that all blind athletes have to wear black out glasses during the run of a triathlon. It’s one of the first instances that I’ve seen the triathlon “powers that be” attempt to further the disability of certain athletes in order to “level the playing field” as they say. Not all blind athletes are completely dark, and to force them to race in an even more foreign environment just busts my chops. Stepping off soapbox now.

Patricia is on the left wearing black out glasses, that are quite bothersome. She won’t be wearing them during IM Texas.

Number two…Patricia packed her tandem bike to come to this race…by herself. Next time you are dragging your bike to a bike shop to have them pack it for you, just remember that one. Watching her put it together…I’ll never forget that.

Okay, onwards! So today we had a few things that needed fixing with the tandem and we had to get Michelle fitted on it as well. I have to throw a huge shout out to the guys at the Quintana Roo booth. Oh My Goodness. First off, they let Michelle and I demo a few bikes that we had been drooling over (CD 0.1), thank you guys. BUT THEN, when we were struggling to get everything set on the tandem, these guys hunted down a trainer, set up the tandem, and worked for 45+ minutes getting everyones seats, handlebars, and pedals fitted and perfected. I was blown away by how much they helped us out. Thank you Quintana Roo, I can not say it enough.

PS: Michelle just cracked her frame on her Isaac TT bike….and Michelle and I have the same bike…which means that if she gets a new one….well, I might have to as well. I think we just might know what those new bikes will look like. Pink Camo?

So tomorrow is a special day. I am looking forward to every one of those 26.2 miles that I have the honor of running with Patricia. She is very ready to race, and I am very ready to be with her step by step. For those of you that are wondering, we will be tethered at the waist, just as she will be with Michelle during the swim. Obviously, as I mentioned, she will ride a tandem with Michelle, and yes, she will ride in the rear position, although you wouldn’t believe how many times we have been asked that. Really?

My job will be easy since Patricia is really on the ball. She senses things that those of us who can see don’t pick up. Her awareness makes me feel at times like I am the blind one. My own preconceptions have been blown away and I thank her for answering all of my naieve and uninformed questions this weekend. Patricia has earned a membership for life on Team PIC, and I can’t wait to witness her journey tomorrow (Patricia is #81 and you can track her on Ironman.com)

A special thanks again to Quintana Roo for all their help. We are all racing with QR tattoos tomorrow to thank them for their generosity. Also a big thank you to Kompetitive Edge for not even batting an eye when we asked to race in C-Different uniforms for this race. You guys support us so well, and you “get it”. Thank you for that.

Good night all.

Posted in Ironman, Marathon, Triathlon

The Lost Coast

Posted on March 18, 2011 by goSonja| 24 Comments

Yea, Yea, you’re just here for the video. It’s here, just skip all the words and scan to the bottom if you are impatient. Let me know in the comments if you liked it, or any feedback you have. I’m always interested.

I came to the Lost Coast to do something hard. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy and when people asked if I was going to run alone I said yes. There is really a short list of people that I have done endurance stuff with. Most of it was done when I was coached by Steve since he was into training that way. Since I started with Chuckie the training is not ultra in nature, it’s just relentless.

Chuckie never asks you to do anything too too hard, he just has you do a LOT of not too hard stuff OFTEN. It’s more of a training by raindrops method rather than by flash flood. And it works, if anyone witnessed what happened to me last year, you will know that the Chuckie way is the right way.

Mom and dad in Garberville. The last cell coverage for several days.

I know I can get through an Ironman and several years ago I didn’t know that I could. The ultra training that I did then taught me a lot about my resolve and I admit that I yearn for those types of experiences every once in awhile. This was one of those yearnings. I wanted to get out and do something HARD, gnarley, Grrr.

I wondered if it would break me.

I’m all about safety, I’m a very happy mom, and a very proud wife and I would never want to leave Troy and Annie without the constant entertainment that I seem to provide to them.

Having mom and dad along on this trip was great for that. They were my safety check. I knew my dad would call out the calvary if he even remotely thought I was stuck in a tight spot. Mom would keep Annie happy, and would keep dad from pacing too much while I was out there. My dad is where I get my adventurous spirit, he’s climbed a ton of super remote peaks in the Andes and Nepal, but I’m still his little girl. He’s been at every one of my Ironmans, but after this trip I think even he now realizes I’m made of “tough stuff”.

I took off that morning in pouring rain. I was happy and excited. This run is a point to point run with zero access inbetween. There are no roads, no jeep roads, and the trails on the map are hardly more recognizable than a deer trail. There is a lot of pot grown in this region so poking around too much can likely get you into some dangerous situations.

My route was very clear. Stay on the beach, don’t climb up the super steep cliffs, don’t get dragged out to sea, and just keep running until you see civilization. The map said 24 miles, but I had heard it was more in the 26 range. My parents and I agreed that they would wait an hour before leaving in case I bailed and turned around. They had 4 hours of windy twisty driving to get to where I popped out in Shelter Cove…with a 5 year old.

I thought about turning around the entire first 30 minutes. From about 2 minutes in the wind was in my face really strong, like 40mph strong. I couldn’t beleive how bad it was. In the first 30 minutes I almost was blown over backwards twice. At that point you are thinking…how will I make 26 miles of this? I was thinking “turn, don’t turn, turn, don’t turn” and I looked down and saw 40 minutes had passed. Well…that’s solves that. I’m committed.

The conditions were very intense and about 3 miles in I was already feeling quite hailed. But rather than get frustrated I simply pulled out my headphones, popped them in and got some relief from the sound of the wind.

My heart rate was 170 in the first hour and I made it 3 miles. Painfully slow. The Punta Gorda lighthouse was a welcome site. My parents and I had agreed that if for some reason the SPOT didn’t work, then 8pm (11.5 hours) was when they should call out the search and rescue. I had no way of knowing if the SPOT was working but I was totally doing the math. I figured at that rate it would take 10 hours.

Things got a little better at the lighthouse. I found a little single track deer trail and ran on that for a ways a little bit off the ocean. If there was a plateau next to the ocean I could usually find a little trail on it. If the cliff went straight into the beach, I was stuck running in the sand and rocks. I would say there was about 25% “trail” running and 75% beach.

I encountered my first “stream crossing”. Um, wow. I was immediately thankful I was alone. I’m looking at this raging river that is dumping out of a narrow canyon and into the ocean. No bridge, no rock bridge, no log bridge. If I fell crossing the stream I was going to get dragged directly into the ocean. The ocean here is not a “nice ocean”. It’s 15 foot waves crashing onto rocks, rip tide, cold cold cold kind of ocean.

I hunted around for a big driftwood stick and I used that to help me with my balance across the river. Whew.

There were probably 5 rivers I had to cross throughout the day that were thigh deep. Another 10 I crossed were shin deep. The one thing I was very thankful for was that the tide was low (I planned the trip that way) and therefore the large rivers got a little more of a chance to “fan out” before hitting the ocean. If I had to cross at high tide I may not have made it.

Onwards I ran. Sometimes the rain would stop, sometimes the rain would dump buckets on me. I was soaked from about 1 mile into the run so the stream crossings didn’t really matter in that regard.

Sometimes the wind would even die down a little. It seemed to depend where I was in proximity to end of each of the little coves. Often I would get around a point only to be faced with nearly impassible wind. A few times I would be running and realize that I was only making it a few inches per step.

So what’s going on in my head during this? Well. For awhile it was worry. I was worried that my slower pace would put me in a dangerous tidal position. So I was constantly doing the math in my head.  By about 10 miles in the worry started to release. I realized I was keeping about 4 miles per hour which would get it done.

I never really got concerned personally. Like I never felt personally in danger, I just knew the most important thing I could do for myself was to keep moving forward. I did not stop once the entire day except to tie my shoe laces and to pee. I was on a mission. It wasn’t really until I got through the third section of tide restricted area that I felt the weight lift off my shoulders.

There were actually some “structures” out there in the middle of nowhere. I don’t know how the owners get to them, as there is zero access other than foot…maybe horse, helicopter, airplane. I ran across one really crazy house thing that is in my video. You’ll get a kick out of that section so I won’t ruin it.

The last 6-7 miles were probably the worst wind and rain wise. I caught up to a few lonely backpackers in the section and stopped and talked to each on of them. They were soaked to the bone (so was I, but I was running so I was warm) and each of them looked totally miserable. I asked if they needed anything, and made some small talk (in the raging wind) and then ran along. Sometimes I wasn’t going much faster than they were walking.

I also ran into 4 surfers out there. One surprised me while I was taking some video. If you listen closely in the video he even says “Surprise”. It wasn’t in a creepy way or anything, he was clearly out there with the same love and appreciation as I was. He thought I was crazy for running all that way, I thought he was crazy for hiking 9 miles with his surfboard to surf some waves that were surely going to kill him.

As I pulled into Shelter Cove I was stoked, and relieved. It was a harrowing day, but also not that bad. It’s almost like I could have gotten through anything that day because I was prepared not just physically, but emotionally to go though an ordeal.

The “store” in Shelter Cove had Justin’s Nut Butter! Middle of nowhere!

As I talked about in my previous post I learned quite a bit. As I continue to process the adventure I learn even more. With Ironman, you have so much support out there. There is no real “danger”. Maybe most of us would perform better if there was a real threat. It reminded me that you need to prepare for the threat as if it’s there. Self sufficiency…not in gear…but in MIND. Especially in Kona. Yes, you can always sit down on the ground and wait for medical, but if you expect to rise to the occasion, you need to prepare to do it on your own. You need to be strong in the mind.

I was also reminded that you always have a choice in life. Always. Conditions can be miserable, but you have the choice to be miserable with them. The more you actively make the choice to be positive, the easier it is. It was crazy out there, and I was wet, and slow, and it was hard. None of you would have faulted me if this was a post about what a miserable horrible time I had out there. But this post is not about that, it’s about how  happy and appreciative I was.

I think I was able to be that way because I make that choice on a daily basis. When faced with adversity in life, even the little stuff like parking tickets, I try to utilize it as a trigger to respond in the complete opposite way as is expected. Smile and shrug at the parking ticket. Laugh and open your mouth to the rain. Sing in the wind. Anything to reverse the natural response to a situation, and before you know it, you will naturally respond with less stress and more appreciation to what life hands you.

The co-op in Garberville had Justin’s Nut Butter Peanut Butter Cups. So remote. We can’t even keep these in stock in Boulder. Mom and I bought 8 packages and I didn’t get a single one.

That’s what I was reminded of out there. I want to get out and test myself, test my resolve, but it’s all the little choices every day that really builds your foundation of resolve. Respond well daily, and when the big tests come, you’ll fly through them.

If anything the adverse elements added to my experience out there. When you get down to it, and you’re out in it, it’s really not that bad. It may be hard physically, but that’s a good thing. One step at a time applies to Ironman, to the Lost Coast, or to just getting through a hectic day. Always endeavor to just begin. Once you have begun, the hard part is out of the way. Enduring is easier than beginning.

My darling daughter, happy as a clam the entire trip. This girl has the adventure gene and I couldn’t be happier.

I put together a video of my day. There is no music in this one. As the blog gains more popularity I really shouldn’t be putting music that I don’t own the rights to in my movies. So you will have to be content to deal with the wind, as I dealt with it during my run. I hope you like the video.

 

Posted in Marathon, Mental Training, Running, Travel

Lost Coast Day 1 Quick Update

Posted on March 14, 2011 by goSonja| 16 Comments

Whew! I’m alive! Check this out. This is the page with all my SPOT data. I put the SPOT on tracking mode today and it pinged every 10 minutes. It was super reliable and worked like a charm (Click on the photo below to go to my SPOT page where you can zoom in).

Wow, what a day I just went through. I lost my camera today somewhere along the way, but I didn’t loose my video camera so I do have all the video footage I took. Video coming sometime in the next few days hopefully. My dad took a few photos out on the beach so I included a few here. It’s all I’ve got for now!

I’ll just post a quick update here. A few days ago the forecast was for a clear day today, and rain tomorrow. Well, it rained all night, and 90% of today. I would say 20% of today was in the torrential downpour category.

I got going this morning on time and quickly realized today was going to entail some of the toughest weather conditions I’ve ever experienced. Most of the day was 30-60 mph winds. I picked the North to South route because I heard the wind would be to your back. Today was not that day, today the wind was in my face all day. There were several times that I could not physically take a step forward. There were times when the wind was pelting me with small grains of sand.

The real dangerous part of the day, and the reason that the plans I had for Day #2 are now thwarted is because of the rain combined with the spring runoff. There were about 5 sections today where a river was merging into the ocean. I think usually these are small affairs, but spring and all the rain made them dicey and unsafe today. About 5 times today I waded through thigh deep water, where one misstep would have taken me into the ocean (and not a nice ocean). Another 10 or so times today I crossed sections that were knee deep.

Tomorrows route would take me over similar rivers but instead of crossing them on a beach where they have a chance to spread out as they enter the ocean, I have to cross them in the nooks of narrow mountainous regions. The danger factor is high. Combine that with being remote, on my own, and trying to complete a point to point run, and I’m sad to say, the Day 2 that I planned is a bit too dangerous this time of year.

I am totally stoked with what I was able to do today. It was EPIC. It was 26 miles in 30+ mph rain and wind in a secluded remote area. It was EPIC! You guys will love the video. Today I felt like I was literally running through Jurassic Park (minus the Dinosaurs).

So what did I learn today? Well, I’ll try to get all of it in a more elaborate post later, but I will share my overriding thoughts at this moment.

One: I’m so glad I did this alone. I would have felt “responsible” if someone else was with me, and I would have felt bad. The conditions were such that it could have broken many a strong athlete. I ran into a few backpackers out there today and while I stopped and asked if they were ok and if they needed anything, I think each and every one of them was completely annoyed that this peppy girl ran up to them and then ran away from them. They were miserable, and cold, and wet, and pretty frustrated. The phrases they used to describe me when I told them where and when I started were pretty hilarious. Let’s just say I’ve heard the term BAMF a few too many times today.

Two: I really had all the excuses I needed to have a horrible day today. As I ran along I knew that this was a mess, it was brutal. But, I got out my headphones, I popped them in, and I continued to have a pretty great day. It was brutal, don’t get me wrong, but I really learned that when things get tough, and I’m all by myself, my default response is one of positivity, and “let’s do this”. I knew the conditions could turn dangerous for me if I got cold, or fell in a river. So I focused on what I could control and I minimized my risk where possible. I’m proud of how I handled myself today, and only I know how I did. It’s true that I am my own biggest critic, but my own biggest cheerleader too.

Three: I’m in good shape. Physically the effort today was demanding, but after a change of clothes and some good food I feel like a new girl. Dad and I went out to take a few running photos (the ones you’ve seen here) and I was barely stiff. Despite running through deep deep sand most of the day, I’m in a pretty good spot and I wouldn’t be worried about a day two if it was happening.

Four: I have a fantastic family. They have helped me so much and when I pulled into the beach at Shelter Cove, an hour ahead of schedule, I walked up to the bathroom in the parking lot and my dad came driving around the corner with a blanket and a mug of hot cocoa. My mom had Annie set up with a movie and she looked at me like “Oh, your back”. Clearly, she was having so much fun with my parents she hardly noticed I was missing all day. My parents had to put up with the rain and wind today as well, and they just smile, and are totally there for me. I am lucky!

I’m bummed I won’t have more photos (because I lost my camera) but the video turned out well, so I’ll get to work on that. Thanks to all of you who followed along. I hope that you guys have found my new blog, I don’t seem to be getting many comments recently so I don’t know if I just boring, or you all are lost!

 

Posted in Camping, Marathon, Running, Travel

Ironman Arizona 2010 – The Run

Posted on November 26, 2010 by goSonja| 39 Comments

Jenny and I were the only ones in the transition tent and we left together. We got going and I was right behind her. She was nails and she was storming the castle. I tucked in behind her, put my warm shirt on, and started getting in my groove. My whimpers had calmed down and it actually felt really good to be out running on a relatively quiet portion of the course. Then it started raining, and then a 5 minute downpour let loose that drenched me to the bone. We crossed our first (of 12) bridges for the day and suddenly this huge rainbow popped out. I remember thinking “Ok, now that’s cool”.

Jenny and I were running fast. Like “wowah” fast. Looking back I would say “too fast” but it’s a pace I know I have it in me to run for a whole marathon off the bike and I thought to myself “is this the day?” It felt effortless, easy and my stride was so smooth and strong. I passed Jenny eventually and then I came up on someone in my age group with the name Vanessa on her bib. As I passed her I could tell she went with me. Seriously? I have almost never had anyone go with me during a pass in a triathlon. If they did it was short lived.

As you can see I spent most of the marathon looking like a train wreck. Check out how I’ve got one eyebrow under my hat strap, and the other is not. Dork! Oh, and meet Vanessa, you’ll see a lot of her.

And she STUCK. Like glue, like white on rice, like Velcro, like white dog hair on a black coat, I could go on and on here. She STUCK, for miles. I was still running fast and it still felt easy, but Vanessa was kinda freaking me out. If I ran fast she was there, if I slowed, she was there, no matter what I did she matched it. I also found out from Troy that I was 3rd in my age group. I thought that our age group would get 2 slots for sure, and 3 if we were lucky. So really, my main concern was not passing more ladies ahead, but shaking the one that was sitting on my shoulder. We were racing for most likely the final Kona slot, and we both knew it.

As we passed Chuckie at the end of the first lap I asked him rather loudly “How do I get her off me”. I admit, it was pretty rude of me to put it like that, but the girl was getting to me (great tactics on her part). She had been on me for 6 miles at that point. Chuckie said “Don’t worry, but run this next lap really hard”. All I could think was “crap”. I was doing OK still, but the thought of upping my game was a scary one. I had also picked up more than just my shaddow. I had several baby ducks hanging onto the goSonja mama duck.

goSonja train…toot toot

First Lap splits: 7:34, 7:28, 7:32, 7:23, 7:37, 8:03 (big hill), 7:27, 7:52,7:57 (carnage to come)

On the second lap I started to hurt. My entourage and my shadow stuck with me. When I slowed, they did too. Nobody passed. Half way through lap two I passed the cheer crew again. I knew I was still in third. Chuckie was about 100 yards later and at that point Meredith Kessler (PRO, took 4th overall) was lapping me. She was running pretty fast and Chuckie said “Sonja, this is Meredith Kessler and I want you to go with her for as long as you can”. I immediately went with her and thought “Oh wow, I’m going to blow up” but I went with her and I know now that he was trying to help me shake Vanessa, my shadow. It didn’t work, she matched the move step for step and hung on.

Meredith is on the left, number 58. The goSonja train is on the right.

Things really started to hurt during the second half of lap two. My little entourage and I ran slowly up the big hill and fast down the backside. My pace slowed, my legs were heavy, I was against the ropes. At the end of lap two Troy said that 2nd was 2 minutes up and 1st was 4 minutes up. I knew I needed to speed up, but it wasn’t happening. Chuckie said “Let her do some work” referring to Vanessa. Sounded like a great plan to me and not long after that she came up on my side and said “I don’t want a Kona slot, let’s work together”. My first thought was “Thank God”, my second thought was “Is she playing me?”. But regardless she took the lead during a VERY windy section and I was grateful to cruise behind her and regain my composure.

Second Lap Splits (carnage): 8:08, 7:48, 8:10, 8:10, 8:28, 8:49, 8:40, 8:45, 8:44 (OUCH!)

Turns out Vanessa wanted a Kona slot very badly and was playing me hard core. We have chatted back and forth after the race and she said that she just said that to try to calm me down to see if we could work together towards a 1-2 finish. The girl has GUTS. She’s probably the most tactical triathlete I’ve ever raced.

I was essentially bonking at this point and while cruising behind Vanessa I took in some coke, a sour apple gel (divine), some Gu chomps, some water, some energy drink, and a chunk of banana. Then I ran behind her and focused on her ponytail holder (and only her ponytail holder) for about 1.5 miles. It was just what the doctor ordered.

At mile 19.5 I just knew. I just knew. I was back. I was ready, and I was off. I pulled back ahead of Vanessa and I just told myself that if I wanted to catch anybody, I was going to need some 8 minute miles. And so I went about getting it done. So, 17.5 miles after Vanessa hopped on the goSonja bus, she got off and on I went.

The tweeting machine – so many of you enjoyed the live twitter cast sponsored by Goal0, this was the set up for much of it! The Goal0 Nomad 7 worked great! More news on the winners tomorrow!

Suddenly it was ON like donkey kong. I came over my 10th bridge and Chuckie told me to go get the girl in the teal shorts, he said she looked like she was in my age group and off I went. I was on attack. I busted the downhill off the bridge and I caught her within a mile but she had 29 written on her calf. Turns out that maybe she was confused, or she lost a battle with the Sharpie, or do I dare say it… she’s a purposefully deceiving athlete…because she was indeed in the 30-34 age group. I was nervous she would go with me, but she did not.

I go by Troy and he says 1st is 2 minutes up and your number 2. I was totally confused but I assumed I passed #2 in the port-a-pottie, or at an aid station and I didn’t see her, I didn’t think it was Ms.29. My crew knew though, they were on the ball. I also saw Michelle going the other direction in here. I was soo soo thankful. She was running, and I just caught a glance of her, but it looked like she was doing well and that gave me a boost.

I also passed my old high school boyfriend somewhere on lap two as well. He was at IMCDA this year but I didn’t know he was signed up for IMAZ too, so that was a surprise. He gave me a big high five and told me to go get ‘em. I only see the guy during Ironmans, that cracks me up. I love that when he ran by my parents he said “Hi Mr.Willis”. That’s just funny! Oh and he ran by Michelle and asked if she knew me (since we were both in Trakkers green). She asked if he reads my blog (she didn’t know who he was) and he said “yes”, then she said “I’m PIC”! He said “I’m her X-boyfriend”. Oh, this story just cracks me up. Funny what goes on out there!

Here’s PIC busting a move!

2 minutes down on 1st, 4 miles to go, and I’m feeling my mo-jo. I’m definitely against the ropes but for some reason I am eating up the challenge, and using it as motivation. I was on the hunt. I would pick a girl ahead and run as hard as I could to pass her, only to see she was in another age group. I ran up the big hill harder than I had the previous two laps. I book down it and at the bottom Jane and Chris are cheering at the 24 mile mark and she says “Number 1 is 45 seconds up”. Then I know. I am going to do this or die trying.

I look ahead and I see an orange Tribe uniform. I know it’s her. I just do. I run as hard as I can to get there and I am 10 seconds back 1/2 mile later. Now I don’t know what to do. I ran 17+ miles with a shadow and the last thing I want is another one. How do I make the pass? What do I do? Do I try to be sneaky? Decisive? Sly? Friendly? I decide to just go, and run like I stole something. I make the pass and I run so hard down and around this loop-de-doo in the course. I’m telling myself “run hard, dying is ok, dying is ok, run till you die”. I’m not kidding, that’s what I’m screaming at myself in my head. I come booking out of the underpass and I’m scared shitless. I see Chuckie and Ang and Chuckie said “run as hard as you can all the way in”. And I am. I’m running as hard as I know how.

I pass Troy and Chris, Tyler and Anne and Troy is holding up one finger screaming “Number one, number one” and they all go booking across the grass running towards the finish line via the direct route. Now I’m chanting in my head “You’re winning your age group, you’re going to Kona, you’re winning your age group, you’re going to Kona”. I look behind me, she’s not on my heels. I run faster. I look again, still not there, I run faster. I never let up, not one ounce. I make all the turns to the finish, check over my shoulder about 10 times and finally, in the chute, I realize I’m good, I can celebrate. Celebrate I did, lots of high 5’s and smiles.


I look up to see 10:22 on the clock and am pretty impressed with that time, for this day. Shocked really. I get very very weepy and wobbly at the finish. It wasn’t the physical exhaustion, it was the mental, emotional, and sensory exhaustion. I look to the fence and my mom is crying and saying “Your so awesome Son” and my dad is shouting “We are so proud of you”. I get really weepy.

Third Lap Splits: 8:48, 8:24, 8:03, 8:06, 8:40 (big hill), 7:48, 7:58, 7:49, last 0.2 (6:50 pace)
The Run: 3:32:39
Total Time: 10:22:09

Ron, AKA PunkRockRunner is there in the stands, cheering up a storm. I LOVE this picture.

My finish line catcher is concerned and heading me toward the medical tent. Of all the finish lines, this one resulted in the biggest emotional release. I kept telling my finish line catcher, “I’m just really emotional”. I can understand being concerned but when you’ve been racing in the hurt locker for so long, and then running like your life depended on it for several miles, and finally you get to STOP, whew…the emotions just pour out. Relief is the main one, your fears of being eaten by a tiger (or losing the lead) are suddenly gone. I have major props for those that can keep their composure in these situations.

I hug my mom over the fencing and a volunteer lady says to my finish line catcher, “you can’t accompany her to the medical tent” and I said “Oh, I’m not going to medical” and I started to shape up. The threat of the medical tent always brings me back to reality. I pop out of the enclosure and EVERYONE is there. Troy, Chris, Mom, Dad, Jane, Tyler, Anne, Ron, Niko, Chuck, and Angela. It was awesome to see everyone’s faces. They were as shocked as I was. It was emotional, we were all so surprised at how well it all came together in the last few miles. There is really no better feeling than having all my friends and family there to smile and celebrate a great finish.


After lots of hugs all around, and good jobs I grabbed Annie and we went back into the finisher area for some grub. Annie and I shared a basket of french fries, a slice of pizza, a sprite, some chips and a cup full of grapes. During this time Troy ran to transition, collected my bike, transition bags and morning clothes bag, then ran to the car in the garage and loaded everything up. I have the most awesome husband, he does this stuff just because, and he always thinks of me first. I handed Annie back over the fence to Troy and hopped on the massage table. I started getting really cold, so Troy got me warm clothes and I headed towards the finish line just in time to see Michelle come running down the chute! She looked great, and a little emotional too…just how we like it.

She was an Ironman!!! It was fun to be in the back area with her, helping her eat fries, and getting her signed up for a massage. I got her and Michael reunited and we all agreed to meet in the hot tub at the hotel in about 45 minutes. The rest of the evening is soooo not bloggable…margs margs margs and then some midnight finish line cheering.

Fine Chrissie…you can have a hug

Twitter friends are now REAL friends, Nicole (@neo_endurance) and Nina (@ncjack). We had a lot of fun at the finish line.

And that was it. I went to bed at 1:40am that night, still in total disbelief that I won my age group. What started out as a rough day ended as a rough day too. It was really challenging, but really rewarding. One thing I learned on Sunday is that with bigger risk can come bigger rewards…or a bigger fall. The difference between the two comes down to your fire within, and a bit of luck. I went through A LOT of pain out there, but it was all worth it. And really, it usually is.

Goal0 Nomad7 winners will be revealed tomorrow!

Posted in Ironman, Marathon, Race Report, Running, Triathlon

Kona – The Run

Posted on October 13, 2010 by goSonja| 23 Comments

Heading in off the bike they have you run all the way around transition to the back side of the pier, in a way reversing your steps from T1. It’s quite a run so you get a taste of how your legs are going to feel. Mine were basically saying “What on earth have you done to us”? They were pretty heavy. I grabbed my bag, ran into the change tent, which seemed rather busy and dumped my bag out on the ground. I had two volunteers helping me and although it was a bit crazy, I got through the entire T2 in about 3 minutes.

I hit lap on my watch coming out of T2 and it said “Delete History, Active Memory Full”. Grrrrr. It does this to me in training and the only thing to do is shut it down, turn it back on, delete all history, and restart the watch. But that would mean I would loose all my ride data. I remembered my watts, 169 average. But I was sad about losing the data. I ran that first mile going “think Sonja, think, what to do”? I thought maybe I could steal a watch off someone else. No, that’s not a good idea. Maybe I could delete some old training sessions and see if it would let me hit lap. I tried that…which was a pain in the butt to be clicking buttons while running. It didn’t work. Back to the drawing board.

After running a bit longer and “thinking” I finally decided to delete everything and start new. So I cleared the history, restarted the watch, turned it to run mode, and hit start somewhere just after mile 1 of the run. It was a good decision. It would have been fun to look back at my ride data, but, it was more important to have access to my watch during the marathon!

I gotta admit, I wasn’t all too sure where exactly the run course went. For some reason I thought you spent a lot of time on the Queen K, and very little time on Ali’i drive. I had driven the Queen K portion, I had run the Energy lab, but I had not scoped any of Ali’i drive. Some surprises are needed.

After the watch incident I got going onto Ali’i drive and my legs were turning over very nice. I saw Bree Wee and we tried to slap hands, but we completely missed each other. It was so kind of her to give me some Aloha out there. At mile 2 I started wondering when we were going to turn around.

I need to talk about the aid stations here on Ali’i because they are worthy of their own post. The stations were phenomenal, there was so much aid to be had. Sometimes I think they took up 0.1 of a mile, with multiple opportunities to access the goods. I had on my new Nathan waist pack (which I love) and a Nathan 10oz hand bottle in my hand. I barely needed them. The stations had me covered. It was a bit hot so I was taking full advantage of the fluids on the course. I even had a few gels on Ali’i drive.

I saw my family coming directly out of transition, and then I saw Chuckie, Michelle and Angela around mile 2. That was awesome, lots of booming cheers from them, I totally loved it! Chuckie told me to find someone and work together with them. Great idea. A lady had just gone past me at a good clip so I tried to get her back. But she wasn’t the working together sort, so I was still “dating”.

At mile 5 we finally turned around. My mile 2-5 splits had been somewhere around 7:45, 7:41, 7:51, 7:52. I spent a fair amount of time those first miles wondering if I had gone too hard on the bike. I was working pretty hard those first miles, but having trouble really telling where my body was at. They weren’t flat miles either, there are some hills on Ali’i drive.

The 5 miles back on Ali’i were pretty uneventful. I saw Brynje who is coached by Chuckie too, and she looked great. I continued to eat a bit too much at the aid stations, but it all tasted so good. Those next 5 miles were 7:58, 8:00, 8:04, 7:57, 8:03. I really was paying very little attention to my watch. Back through town, back through the awesome cheers from everyone.

Then we ran up Palani hill. This is so much harder of a task than it looks like when you watch it on TV. Palani is like a 3 block hill and it’s steep. I knew I shouldn’t spike my heart rate so I tried to take the hill as consistent as possible, but I won’t lie, it hurt. I heard my name being cheered for and tried to smile as much as possible. My friend Jordan was there with his girlfriend Chrissy. Mile 11 with Palani hill was 8:41. That’s a big slow down, but it’s to be expected on the hill and I wasn’t concerned at all.

Now I was on the Queen K, yeah! The infamous Queen K that I’ve been waiting for! Coming down the first hill I mentally noted “big hill…coming up this will suck in 15 more miles”. At the bottom of it Michael Lovato passed me on his way to the finish and he said “Good Job Sonja”. He was wearing an orange kit with orange Kinvaras and the whole look was very cool. Orange is a color more athletes should try. I tried to give him kudos back, and I think I did, hopefully they didn’t come out like “Humph go huh huh michael”. I remember getting goose bumps after he said good job, I was really touched by the gesture. That was very kind of him to give me props out there on the course.

And so it began, the Queen K. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s 1 part hot, 3 parts hilly, and 2 parts relentless. You’re on it for about 6 miles until you turn into the Natural Energy Lab (NEL). So this is where I needed to find my zone, and crank it out. I was trying to find my zone, and I was still looking for someone to work with, but I was feeling a little inconsistent. I was having to give myself little pep talks, lots of them, my zone was being elusive. Miles 12-14 were 8:12, 7:59, 8:12. Somewhere in there Bree Wee and I passed again and this time we were successful in our hand slapping. I wish I had a picture of that.

I have several triathlon “angels” in my life, at least that’s what I call them. They are people whose presence I consider lucky and they always seem to share wisdom with me in a selfless way. Bree is one of them, as is my friend Adam who has raced Kona before. So I felt an extra boost with that high 5 from Bree, and again I got goosebumps.

Mile 15 was my first really big challenge of the day. I had noticed at about mile 12 that my tummy was a bit poochy. I thought to myself “You’re taking in too much, the tummy isn’t digesting”. I had already peed twice on myself during the first 12 miles, and I’m not talking little pees. I was HYDRATED. But during mile 15 I started to get the sloshy tummy. I could hear it thumping and moving. I was hoping it was the guy next to me, but it was me. Towards the end of mile 15 I got the sudden feeling of “OMG I have to poo like pronto”. I was looking for bushes and well…it’s the Queen K…there are none, just LAVA! I saw an aid station soon and knew they would have a potty. I tried to run fast…but not too fast, and with about 50 meters to go, I lost a bit of the battle with my tummy. It was the worst feeling, knowing what I was most likely doing in my shorts.

I finally got to the port-a-pottie and did my business. I tried to clean myself up the best I could. But really, I didn’t give a crap…literally, okay, wait, I guess I did give a crap, but you know what I mean. I just wanted to get back on the course and limit my potty time. The pit stop took exactly 42 seconds and I was back on the road. I made some new “rules” for myself, which were no more eating or drinking for 2 aid stations, and tread lightly while my system recovers. Mile 15 was 8:53 including the potty.

We had some hillage from there and eventually we turned into the NEL. This portion of the course is tough and I’m not exactly sure why. You go down a pretty big hill and all the special needs bags are here. It should be a good place, but I think it’s one of the hottest sections of the course. You can see the runners just ahead of you here and I saw Whitney from Boulder looking very very strong. I saw Wendy Mader as well, can’t miss the Timex kits! Miles 16-18 were 8:10, 7:59, 8:17.

I made the turn and headed back out of the energy lab. I started to drink some fluids again as my stomach seemed to be okay. I tested it bit by bit. I passed up my special needs bag. It was only 8 miles to the finish and I didn’t want anything I had stashed in there. Running out of the (no) Energy Lab is really brutal. It’s a hill and it’s hard and hot. Lots of people were suffering through here, me included I guess. I tossed my hand bottle at an aid station, knowing I could make it to the end without it.

I passed Wendy here and she was not happy. I’ve heard nothing but cool things about Wendy from my friend Fred, but I keep meeting her in the middle of races when she is struggling. I felt for her, and I didn’t want to pass without saying anything, so I said “Are you Wendy” and she said “Yes” and I said “I’m Sonja” and she said “Hi Sonja”. But the way she said “Hi Sonja” was in a very sad little mouse voice, and I just felt worse for making her talk. Mile 19 up the NEL hill was 8:54.

Back onto the Queen K your spirits really lift. There is a downhill after that big hill and you only have about 7 miles to go. I was looking forward to the 10K to go mark, because anyone can suffer for 10K. This guy came past me, and he was running like there was a fire under his toosh. You could tell it hurt, but this guy was embracing the pain cave and throwing it down. I immediately hopped on.

And this is where I found my Zen mode. For a good 5 miles I latched onto this guy and we ran through aid station after aid station. I was one stride behind him, just staring at his back for 5 miles. Sometimes other people would jump in the mix, but eventually they would drop back or move along. I don’t know if I annoyed him, but I tuned into his stride and zoned out completely. Miles 20-24 were 8:03, 8:18, 8:02, 8:26, 8:17. And I was happy with them. The guy that I latched onto is in a ton of the pictures above, he has on a dark red top with a huge M-dot in the middle. He so totally rocked!

I passed my dad and my Uncle Norm and Cousin Kyle. They were cheering up a storm and taking pictures. My Uncle Norm was helping a woman that was done. I felt so bad for her, especially after hearing the story my Uncle told. She was only 2 miles from the finish, she was in my age group, and she was just done. Her name was Megan Newcomer and I hope some day I can find out if she is ok. The stories were pretty scary. Uncle Norm is with her here.

At the top of one hill this volunteer was telling everyone “it’s all downhill from here”. My brain went crazy for a bit over that one. I knew there was one big hill left, one really big hill. I made sure to tell my stud pacer friend this. I also asked him if he knew what race clock time was, he didn’t, but I found out he had an Australian accent. Sure enough we hit the bottom of the hill and there it was facing me. BIG HILL. I had about two miles to go and I thought, poop on this hill, I’m going up it HARD. So I did. I ran up the last hill on the Queen K like the finish line was at the top.

And at the top of that hill you turn and get to run down Palani. I ran down Palani as hard as I knew how, pretending the finish line was at the bottom. Then you turn left on Kuakini and I ran along that as hard as I knew. I was now getting tired of running hard. I turned the corner towards Ali’i and there was Chuckie and Ang and PIC. I started crying and heard Chuckie yelling to GOGOGOGO. I went harder, my throat choking up, but with no tears. Then I turned onto Ali’i and it was all smiles. Ali’i was AWESOME. It was lined with people, all of them cheering like crazy. I saw a woman right ahead of me and thought “oh no, I gotta get her, what if she’s in my age group”. When I got up near her I noticed she had 3 numbers on her arm which meant she was a pro, so I didn’t give chase. They started 30 minutes ahead and I wasn’t going to ruin my finish line experience racing her, ya gotta milk those last steps.

I ate it up on Ali’i. It’s truly the best finish line in the world and it did not disappoint. Because I had to restart my watch I had no idea what the race clock time was. I came around the corner, looked up and saw 10:17 on the clock. I was totally flabbergasted, I was ecstatic and my whole body washed with goose bumps. I ran over that finish line full of smiles and warm fuzzy feelings. My last two miles were 8:00 and 7:12.

The race volunteers were amazing afterwards. They take great care of you and before I knew it I had a lei and medal around my neck and I was laying on a massage table. I had an interesting thing happen after the race this time. I couldn’t find my family and I was horribly tired and I actually got sad and upset. I think it was a blood sugar thing, but I shed a few tears of sadness walking around afterwards. The massage helped a ton and then I found my family.

The evening was spent dancing it up at the finish line until midnight. It was an amazing experience, that midnight finish line. Thousands of others were there too.

I have a treat for you for tomorrow on the blog. My aunt Grace took some great video of the day and I made a movie. It turned out really good, so I’ll post it after my closing thoughts tomorrow.

Results:
total time: 10:17:53
swim: 1:10:41
T1: 2:24
Bike: 5:30:47
T2: 3:17
Run: 3:30:46
W30-34: 15th
amateur women: 31st
overall women: 60th
overall: 637

Posted in First Endurance, Ironman, Marathon, Race Report, Running, Trakkers, Triathlon

6 hours after 62 miles

Posted on February 28, 2010 by goSonja| 2 Comments

At 2am, I should not be blogging. I should not be awake. But here I am, starting my blog on my iPhone, laying here in bed with a sound asleep Troy and Annie. I am awake because the pain woke me up. Not that I was sleeping that well anyways. Tossing and turning, shoving my pillow between my legs, searching for a position that my legs would accept.

Ben asked me on lap 9 to explain the difference between the sprinters paincave and that of the endurance athlete. While the sprinter dealts with 100% all over mind degrading pain, the minute he or she stops it would take a small miracle to conjure up the severity of the pain. To the endurane athlete the pain is much like that of injury. Every single step hurts with searing sharp pain in the hips, knees, and ankles. But, you are there for it. There is no mentally escaping from the endurance runners pain. The pain does not stop when you stop and often times haunts you for days. The endurance athletes pain is almost a form of depression. And when it wakes you up at 2am, when you obviosly need your sleep, you feel utterly broken. That’s the difference.

So yea, I hurt. But as I said many times during my 62 miles of running yesterday, “I’m still me”. I’m still smiling, chatting, laughing, downplaying the effort, and just generally exicuting sound strategy. I’m still totally humbled by everyone who came out to run with me. Several of them, including X-stud quarterback Ryan, and his motorcross racing wife, Melissa, went father than they ever had before. They dragged Ryans sister Jen out, who doubled her longest run of 6 miles out to 12. She’s probobly feeling very similar to me right now.

As I lay here waiting for the Vitamin I (as Chucky calls it) to set in, my big thoughts of the day include.

- I am so supported by my running friends, I had someone with me every lap! I can not thank you guys and gals enough.

- My husband Troy continues to shock and amaze me and others with his ability to watch Annie in a boaring parking lot for 13 hours while keeping me refueled, doing a check on me every lap, being time keeper, welcoming runners there to pace me, and supporting all of us.

- The gear my sponsors have provided totally rocks. First Enduance, Nuun, Mix1, and Justins Nut Butter kept me fueled, Nathan provides the most comfortable running packs, Core Concepts clothes me in things that do not rub or chaffe, Trakkers hats keep me sunburn free, Saucony has created a shoe I never once wanted to change out of even when they were a soaking wet muddy mess, and Josh at Tri-massage with his fixing techniques and exercises kept me on my feet.

- Although most of the entire run hurt, I reached a pain plateau and it was one that I could manage.

- There are 38 more miles in me, I now know this.

- Do not sit down. Beware of the chair. Sitting is reserved for the port-a-pottie.

- Circus Animals (the pink and white ones) and yellow bunny peeps saved the day. These two things rocked my mouth!

With this thought, I will post this rant and get back to bed. The pain has gone from a 29 to a 16 and I think I might be able to sleep. I took video during my run, so tomorrow I will edit it and post it, along with a play by play report. Until then…yawn!

Posted in 50 mile, Core Concepts, First Endurance, Justin's Nut Butter, Marathon, Mental Training, Mix1, Running, ultramarathon

PIC

Posted on January 28, 2010 by goSonja| 7 Comments

You may have noticed that that I affectionatey refer to Michelle as PIC. It stands for “partner in crime”, I’m not really even sure when it came about. Maybee when she started her blog? I don’t know. She calls me PIC too. It’s rather fun. Sometimes I call her Fordy-Ford, or Michelley-Elley.

Michelle and I met shortly before our first ever trip to USAT Age-Group Nationals in 2007. That was way back when I had only done two sprints and Michelle was still riding this red bike with like Shimano 105 on it (I don’t mean to offend anyone…well maybe I do a little bit).

Breakfast two days before Nationals in 07

We were roomies in this totally cheep extended stay hotel right next to Nike in Portland. We both had what I would call super solid races, but even bigger than that we began a friendship that both of us never realized would be so much fun.

I think this was probably the last time we got totally sloshed right after a race…we are much more dedicated now (we are the middle two).

We trained together occasionally, mostly on weekend bike rides. Michelle was a working girl with a demanding job, but she was focused and nailed her workouts.

We went through a Twinkie phase (identical, comes in a pack of two). Almost all the group pictures we were standing next to each other, and we had matching helmets, blue bikes (she got rid of the crummy red one…no offense) and ponytails. Check it out.

Twinkies we are



Scary huh?

We came back to nationals in Portland in 2008 ready to kick ass, and qualify for Team USA. We had Australia on our minds. For the first time we allowed another person into our nationals lair, Tyler.

PIC, Me, and Tyler

He proved to be an acceptable addition. It also meant that PIC and I shared a bed for the first time. And we learned that we sleep well together, who would have thought? Probably a fact that our husbands try not to think about too often…or maybe they do. I don’t know and this is going south…

So we both really rocked the house at Nationals, it was the same course as the year before and PIC knocked 16+ minutes off her time, and I took off a little over 6. PIC nabbed that Team USA slot, and I missed it by one, but got it back in the lotto.

Early morning pre race, we are together, there’s a shock!

Several months after Nationals, the best thing EVER happened to my athletic career (and let’s be honest, it’s all about me). PIC got laid off, SWEEET, full time training partner. I think this is when the term “PIC” came about. That year was about becoming super stud kick ass athletes and helping each other get there. We started on the bikes.

Mt.Evans in the back, we two man teamed it all over the place that spring.


We really learned a lot about each other. Usually we knew more about where each other was at than we knew about ourselves. I knew when she was blitzed, she knew when I needed to eat. We shared gels, we took turns on each others wheels, and we had so much fun.


We raced across the county, heck the world, together. We always found a way to get our PIC time even if we weren’t rooming together. We found a camaraderie that year that was sorta “the next level”. I think in the beginning we may have felt a little competitiveness against each other, but any and all of that dissipated throughout last year. When we became PIC’s things changed and we helped each other through the hard times, and the hard races, and we celebrated with each other through the good ones. It helped that we had numerous good performances through the year. At Kansas, we qualified for Clearwater together.

We went to Nationals for a 3rd year together, we added Beth and Tyler to the room, which meant again…PIC and I were sharing a bed. Which apparently meant great races for the both of us. PIC taking 5th in her AG, and me 14th, both earning TEAM USA spots if we so choose to take them. Seeing her on the podium made me feel like I was on the podium, I kid you not.

Red hair extension…it was for CHARITY!

We went to Worlds in Australia with our different families, but we found a way to hook up and train everyday together. Training in unfamiliar adds a whole different crazy factor to things, but when we were together we seemed to have so much more confidence. It didn’t matter that we were riding on the wrong side of the road, we handled it together and we laughed a lot. Meeting up with Michelle was like a having a piece of home with me.

In AUS, training, note that we now have matching TT bikes, and non matching helmets, since I crashed and broke mine.

I think having each other there at World Championships paid off, we went 19th for PIC, and 30th for me, in our age group, in the world. And you know, PIC slept over in my hotel room the night before, I’m thinking that’s why we raced so well.

And at the end of the season we found each other in Clearwater, out there on the race course, and ran together for part of the race. It was almost poetic.


Michelle and I have learned through the years the value of having a training partner. I don’t think either of us could have ever imagined just how tight we would become. Going forward this year we have switched coaching, and we have switched team affiliation. It was a process that we relied heavily on each other to get through. Lots of leaning on each other, and a fair amount of tears.

It wasn’t easy, but you live, you learn, and you try to move forward with an open heart. With Michelle, I’m not afraid to tell her the truth, and she knows I’m in her corner 100%. I’m so extatic that the recent changes in our athletic career have brought us even closer together. I couldn’t imagine racing in a uniform that is different from hers, so I’m pretty stoked that this year we will be Twinkies again.

Having the same coach will enable us to continue to train together and to help each other achieve our goals. We have been very upfront with our new coach (who likes upfrontness) and he has instructed us to tattle on each other to our heart’s content (when it pertains to training). He seems to “get” our relationship and has an idea on how to use it to make each of us stronger.

We feel like we are a little mini-team this year. Our sponsors are the same, we represent them together, and although we are training towards different goals (as we have most years) I have no doubt that this year will yield lots more fun and silly pictures.

Thank you PIC, Michelley-elley, Fordy-Ford for all of your support, for being my “honesty” meter, for not making things harder than they need to be, for traveling with me, planning with me, schooling me in swimbikerun, for not holding it against me when I school you in bikerun, for sharing recipes, and photos, and lessons learned.

Here’s to another year of fun, we’re gonna kick ass!

Posted in 1/2 Marathon, 10K, 50 mile, 5K, Cycling, Family, health, Ironman, Justin's Nut Butter, Marathon, Mental Training, Mix1, Running, Skiing, Swimming, Trakkers, Travel, Triathlon, ultramarathon

Grand Canyon R2R2R Roll Call

Posted on January 27, 2010 by goSonja| 14 Comments

As I start to dig into planning all the details of my Grand Canyon Rim to Rim To Rim run this year I wanted to put a post on my blog for those of you who are thinking about joining in on the fun.

As you know, one of my goals this year is to inspire and help people to do something that is a little more than they thought they were capable of. Now, the Grand Canyon is a very formidable run, it’s long, it’s hot, it’s 46 miles, and you need to be well trained. But, it’s also A LOT OF FUN.

The date has been set for April 19th. It’s a Monday. That would allow those that would like to do the Rage in the Sage Triathlon a few days to get over to the Grand Canyon, same as those competing in the Salt Lake City Marathon.

So, if you have been thinking about asking me if you can tag along on this trip, now is the time to make yourself known.

The trip will be well planned, that is a specialty of mine. I will be sending out an email soon with the overall schedule and lodging options. I provide the structure and the details, and you provide the fitness and your own cash.

My sponsors this year have all agreed to give a little love to this “adventure” so that will be an additional perk.

Lastly, if you are in the area and we have emailed, or tweeted and you need to get to know me better for Grand Canyon purposes, I am running 45 miles this weekend in 6 mile loops. Loops will leave at the top of the hour starting at 8am from the Cherry Creek State Park area. Contact me or leave a comment if you need details.

Last years R2R2R video

Grand Canyon R2R2R from sonjawieck on Vimeo.

Posted in Marathon, Running, Travel, ultramarathon