Category Archives: Race Report

2013 Saint George 70.3

Posted on May 7, 2013 by goSonja| 6 Comments

If you watched the triathlon racing last weekend via the blogs, FB or Twitter there were a lot of people talking about this fantastically gorgeous race in Saint George, Utah. I was lucky enough to be on the start line of that race and I can’t say enough positive things about it.

If you want to skip the reading and just get the story of my race, you can listen to Episode #37 of Jim and the other guy where he got me to spill the beans. 

Prior to the race I had a really strong training block with the camp I attended in San Jose along with the work I’ve done back in Denver. I was feeling good. Coming off Oceanside the fire in my belly was bright. Racing a 70.3 just 3 weeks prior to Ironman Brazil was something I felt excited about, I tend to recover quickly, especially in those final weeks before Ironman when my fitness is high.

I also had 3 of my athletes racing and I was really excited to see where they were at, and how the work I’ve been giving them is absorbing. I was just ecstatic with how things went. Mikki finished her first triathlon ever, very strong and she had fun! Mo had her first puke free triathlon since I’ve been working with her…and that’s been years. It was such a huge success for the both of us. And Jody had a superb race with no cramping, and is right where he needs to be for Brazil. Add to that, Punk Rock Runners 13 min half marathon PR on Sunday and I would say this was one of the best triathlon weekends of my coaching life.

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As I lined up on the start line I had a lot of things in my mind. My athletes races, mainly the swim for Mikki (so much anxiety around that for first timers), but also PICs mom. She was really in my thoughts that morning due to some medical stuff she was dealing with, and I was thinking about PIC too, and hoping she could race for her mom and be strong. Here is our scared faces!

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The reservoir is one of the nicest lakes you can find to swim in. The water is clear, you can see bubbles. I met Katie Kyme on the start line and we got into the water together. The start was smooth for me, although it was cold. My face was nice and numb but I felt like my turnover was a little slow as my arms were just cold and slow moving. I found some feet, they were great feet, straight swimming feet. On the final stretch, as the feet got a bit tired I swung around and swam strong to the finish. The swim work I’ve been doing with coach Nick continues to help me feel strong and prepared in the water. He assigns a lot of broken miles and I can refer back to those workouts on race day. It gives me tactics to use!

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Out of the water and onto the Quintana Roo I was jazzed to get this show on the road. I love the first miles on the bike, because really, the only thing going through your mind is “How are my legs?” “Are they here today.” All I could come up with is COLD. My legs were cold, they weren’t warmed up and they were slow moving because they felt cold. So I decided to really give them some time. I told myself it’s a long day, let them warm up slowly.

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3 miles into the race you go up your first climb. It takes about 5 minutes and I remember thinking “that was harder than when I rode it yesterday.” But you don’t always have to feel good in races. Sometime you just have to race hard, and know that it will all turn out okay in the end. At mile 15 I caught up to Rebecca and there were two other ladies in my age group right with her. I knew that when I went by this group of three I really needed to go and go hard. So I sat back (legal) and sat up and just watched for a little while. I ate a bar, and let my HR drop low and I just watched what was going on.

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Then I went. I put in a big effort for about 3-4 minutes and just went as hard as I felt I could reasonably go. After this effort when I pulled off of it, Sarah Jarvis passed me and said “Hi Sonja.” I took a look back and realized that she was the only one that went with my move.

The rest of the race was the Sarah/Sonja back and forth show. Sarah would pass me on every single uphill and then I would bust a move to get back to her on every descent. The course is very hilly. There are so many climbs that I lost count. But there were lots of bomber descents as well and the course evened out pretty well with a mix of the two. I remember going through 25 miles at 1:06 and thinking “this isn’t that slow.”

At about mile 38ish Sarah and I passed another girl in our age group, Christine. She was riding wicked strong and hung tight as well. As we approached Snow Canyon I was trying to decide on my tactic. My athlete Jody passed me and I had given him the go ahead to ride Snow Canyon as hard as he wanted, so he was bustin’ a move. I decided that I would keep my HR “managable” and use the 10 mile descent to bust my final move. So I rode that canyon hard, but not all out. Both Sarah and Christine gapped me pretty big.

Oh, and I ran over a Post-it note half way up the hill and it got stuck in my breaks and was making a HORRIBLE sound. It was a sound like I got a puncture, and I thought it was stuck in the back break but found it in the front and got it out. Scared the crap out of me for a few minutes though.

When the descent came I nailed it home. Hard as I could go, full tuck position on those descents and it paid off. I got back past Christine and Sarah and rode into T1 in the lead in the AG.

After Oceanside and my solid bonk I decided to make a few changes. I had a race belt with hydration to put on so that I was prepared with fuel goodies. I also decided to run without socks. I’ve been running in Sketchers recently and ran a few runs without socks in my goRun2s but didn’t practice with wet feet (bad move Sonja). I got my stuff on and got out of there.

I had advised my athletes to be VERY careful about your effort the first 2 miles. It’s a deceiving course and only gets worse as it goes. I started running and the hill was there but my legs actually felt good. My HR monitor strap was bugging me (I feel like that thing is trying to kill me on the run, hate it hate it hate it), but all in all I was feeling a boat load better than Oceanside.

I passed Mud who’s camp I attended and threw him my HR chest strap and got some encouragement to keep it steady. I also turned around, wondering where Sarah was and SHE WAS RIGHT THERE. This got me really excited. I love a good foot race.

The more the miles racked up the faster and stronger I felt (thank you Jen Schumm for all those single leg squats over the winter). I remember running down the first downhill and just feeling so strong. I had asked Stacey Simms (Osmo nutrition) a few last minute questions about my nutrition plan and I was repeating “I love Stacey Simms” going up one of those hills because my nutrition was working flawlessly. Having the waist belt was great, and I will take it in Brazil for sure.

I slowly got a little more time on Sarah as the miles went by and with each little surge I put in. I kept the pressure on and tried to catch every girl I saw in front of me regardless of age group. I felt better running than I ever had before in my life.

At about mile 6 I realized that my feet were getting harassed with no socks on. It just made me run harder. There was nothing I could do about it. With 2 miles to go, you have been descending for a long time and they send you on this out and back that’s an evil hill. I ran up that thing hard and took a time split back to Sarah of 1:05. Knowing I felt great, it was the first time I really smiled. Don’t get me wrong I was having fun, going fast is fun, but it was the first time I just was overwhelmed with absolute JOY. The last mile and a half I just wanted to feel the experience of the runners high, where you feel like you can run as hard as you want and it doesn’t even hurt. It was one of those days. I could do no wrong.

Coming into the finish I was so happy. It was so emotional to have one of those races where everything came together. Fitness Brains Tactics Emotions. It is so rare that everything falls into place and that was what happened for me out there.

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I want to extend a huge congratulations to the ladies I shared the podium with who were not only the top 5 in the AG, but also in the top 6 amateurs. Way to go womens 30-34! Sarah Jarvis, Emily Ure, Christine Avelar, Carly Johann! Solid racing ladies!! Also, a huge shout out to PIC Michelle who opened up a new age group at this race, and took home the win, and did so for her mom.

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Thank you to Kompetitive Edge, the new kit is great. Also thanks to Quintana Roo for my awesome bike. I didn’t have the fastest bike split, but it was close :) Amrita Bars, Punk Rock Racing, Osmo and NUUN have been so supportive. Thank you to them.

And also, a huge thank you to all those that have supported me through the good and the bad. My husband Troy and daughter Annie who continue to just love and accept me for who I am, tired, peppy, grumpy, you name it, they are my ROCKS. Thank you to the friends I have made training this year, especially the San Jose crew. And mostly, for the LOVE that I have received as of late.

Total Time: 4:47:28, swim: 30:57, T1: 1:40, Bike: 2:36:49, T2: 2:08, Run: 1:35:54, 1st Amateur, 1st 30-34

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Posted in 1/2 Marathon, Ironman, Quintana Roo, Race Report, Running, Swimming, Travel, Triathlon

2013 Oceanside 70.3

Posted on April 1, 2013 by goSonja| 13 Comments

I have had this race on my bucket list since I started triathlon. San Diego is the birth place of tri and I can see why! Also, I went to UCSD for my undergrad, and save for a wedding about a year after I graduated, I haven’t been back since. Well, I have been missing out! This coming week being Annies spring break I decided to bring the munchkin. Mom and Dad flew down from San Jose to make the trip complete. Oh how I wish Troy had more vacation days!

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The day before the race went fantastic, I felt good, had fun training with Ron, but I did get a flat on my tubular at the end of our ride. Crap! This is where mom and dad and Nytro Multisport saved me. I called the guys at Nytro, Chris I believe, let them know what happened and they made me feel totally at ease. My parents drove down and dropped off the wheel, and an hour later, they were done and had taped on a new tubular. I’m speechless at the great and quick service. Love this shop (and I haven’t even been there). Thank you big time to ma and pa for doing my dirty work while I was able to sit by the pool with Annie and relax!

Pre-race logistics…Oceanside is a course that is tough to get your head around. Steep learning curve for the first timers!

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Race morning I was a little nervous. I was trying to do a new breakfast but just couldn’t get it down. Mix1 kinda went out of business, so I need to find a replacement, and let’s just say I’m not there yet. Also, my daughter was asleep next to me (where she spent most the night elbowing me in the ribs) and she was so peaceful. I just stared at her, and reminded myself that I needed to be not just a good but a great example for her, both on and off the court.

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Mom dropped Ron and I off at T2 at 5:10am and it was go time! T2 set up, ride bike to T1, set that up, walk around nervous like, run around nervous like, wait for your wave to go off. I was literally 50 minutes after the PROs, which is fun when you get to see them all come out of the water. But sad too because they have crossed the line before you are even off the bike. I also ripped a big hole in my freak…doh!

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After a nice little chat with myself, I started to get excited, to get my game face on. I realized that I wasn’t fearing anything. I was ready. I wanted in that water, I wanted to see where I was at. They let us in, we swam over, I tried to figure out where to line up, and in the process off went the gun. I was in a good spot, got off the line well, got clocked a few times, clocked a few ladies. Relatively damage free.

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The first thing I noticed was how awesome the water was. I was prepared for cold temps but I found them to be positively perfect. Refreshing, and cooling. I must say, I hit my groove. I just had a really successful swim. I swam straight, I focused on the form things I needed to focus on, and I was in control. The biggest difference was that I felt STRONG. I have put on 10+ pounds since Kona, and I’m loving every one of them. I’m leaving the lean to the gazelles, embrace the strength!.

At the end of the swim you can see the clock and you get really excited. It was a fast swim for everyone so seeing that I was swimming a 27…..and then 28 made for a sigh of relief.

Out of the water and onto the bike. Transition was long, but I made my way through quickly and got into it. Soon after transition I was told to “GO AFTER IT” and I took that to heart. Today was the day for boldness, after all, I have NOTHING to lose. No ego that hasn’t been crushed in Kona, no expectations to uphold from myself or others. There was only opportunity in my hands. The bike is mostly on Camp Pendleton, so you aren’t allowed to drive the course. It was 100% sight unseen. Once I got going on the bike and I felt my legs under me, I could tell they were there, I just decided that I was going to put to use my new strength, my new muscles. I rode and I rode hard.

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I figured Christine was first out of my AG from the swim, so I was looking for her. Plus, she’s one of my FAVORITE new friends (Coast Ride bonds you) and I just wanted to see her familiar face. She’s getting married in two weeks, so everyone wish her a happy wedding. Found Christine, that rocked, also found Rebecca Travis and let me say she kept me HONEST out there. We definitely used each other for motivation and it was all so positive. I like that. Two thumbs up for her. Also I heard her chew out some boys for sitting on my wheel, now there’s a girl after my own heart. Boys on my wheel, totally allowed in training..not allowed in racing!

Huge thanks to Quintana Roo for the new Illicito. It was my first race on the new frame, and it was good for the fastest amateur bike split. Major ups to QR!!

My legs were under me, so I went for it. I wasn’t letting up until I hit the wall. Coming into T2 I felt fantastic. I heard my parents and Annie cheering up a storm and I was on. I decided to put on socks and so Rebecca got out of T2 in front of me.

I took off and I was on. I felt good, I felt solid, and I was holding myself to 7 min pace. I slowly caught Rebecca and I just knew I was in the lead in the AG and the amateur race, mom confirmed this. I just had to hold on. I calculated time gaps. I had this, just had to run a lot of 7s. I run 7s all over this earth. I had this.

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And then I looked down and I ran an 8min mile? What’s happening? Oh no. Okay, limit damage. I start running through my calorie count. Then I start cussing. I’m low, I’m bonking, I’m REALLY bonking. I dig out my emergency gel with caffeine. I get that down. I go to coke.

And I only had one choice left. Fight for every inch. The girls were coming, and I was not firing on all cylinders, so I just fought for every inch. It wasn’t pretty but my mind was strong and I was going to limit any and all damage that I could. Rebecca went back by me and gave me tons of love and support to hang tough. With about two miles to go Kendra went by me as well. I fought with all I had at the moment, shoving down the coke, trying my best to limit the carnage.

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The finish could not come soon enough. I found that line. Yet another line, another line in my life that I crossed, totally exhausted, exhilarated, and feeling so raw and vulnerable that I can barely look into the eyes of those around me. Putting yourself out like that, fighting for every inch, coming into the finish totally spent and dog tired is HARD. It takes recovery from both emotionally and physically. I went for it, spent all I had, and I came up a tad short. Did I give a shit about that…hells no.

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About an hour after the race, after many cups of salty recovery drink (thank you med staff) and a large lemon aid, I’m sitting there cheering for everyone still out there doing battle with the course. I’m looking at the ocean, the blue sky, I’m hugging on my daughter and sitting next to ma and pa, and I was just overcome with JOY. You can take the dog out of the fight, but not the fight out of this dog.

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My fitness is where it is, my nutrition needs some tweaking. All of it is very early season (blah blah blah). I have (or can get) help with all that, but the FIGHT, you can’t buy that. You gotta make that, it comes from inside, and you can really only appreciate it after you lose it for awhile. The fight is back in this girl, like a shark, I tasted blood out there, I glimpsed greatness, and although all the accolades belong to others this weekend, I found my fight, and it aint going anywhere.

3rd AG, 3rd Amateur, 4:48:17, swim 28:05, bike: 2:37:40, 1:38:05

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Congratulations to everyone who found their own greatness out there. Keep pushing, keep smiling, keep appreciating the fact that you are capable enough to compete. I know I will!

Thank you to: KompetitiveEdge, Quintana Roo, Amrita, Punk Rock Racing, and NUUN. Also a huge thanks to SOAS for their love this weekend, such a great group of women!

Posted in 1/2 Marathon, Race Report, Triathlon

It’s not okay

Posted on January 1, 2013 by goSonja| 19 Comments

As the end of the year approaches it used to be popular to make resolutions. One year my mom made the best resolution I have ever heard. This was like 10+ years ago, and she kept it! Want to know what it was? She resolved to never wear uncomfortable shoes again. I thought it was genius, what a win win, no guilt, good for the feet, doable, and involves shoe shopping. Whenever I try on shoes I always think about my mom, and wonder if they would pass her comfort test. Life is too short to have uncomfortable shoes.

Resolutions are passé. Nobody on my Facebook timeline or my Twitter feed seem to be making them. All I’m seeing is a whole lot of “2012 rocked, here’s to an even better 2013″ or “change the world” or “follow you dreams” or “dream big” or “get after it.” Then there is the usual I started the new year by: biking XXX, running XXX, swimming XX,XXX x 100. You name it. It’s all awesome stuff. I kid you not, I think it’s amazing that my social media is full of this sort of stuff and not cat pictures, or politics, or weather (although there is a decent amount of weather on there at times).

But I must admit, all this “just be better” talk wasn’t really getting me too hyped for the change in calendar.  I felt a bit lost, a bit underwhelmed by the holiday. I wrote a note on Facebook to my athletes detailing what my hopes were in 2013 for each of them. That felt good, I love coaching my ponies. But I couldn’t have written one for myself, other than something like:

do some stuff less, do other stuff more. Illuminating, I know.

For some unknown reason, I signed up to run a New Years 5K today. I assumed that I would drag Michelle to race, and maybe some of my athletes, and a friend or two. My goal was to get a little group together for a fun New Years 5K. Didn’t really come close to that goal, and was painfully aware of that fact when I pulled into the parking lot this morning, alone, without even Troy or Annie.

Best race goodie bag I have ever seen though! Hundreds of handmade mugs, each one different, filled with goodies. I almost thought “I’ve got my mug, I can just go home now and not race! I’ve got some great tea to go in this mug” (Thank you Ellen).

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I haven’t raced this distance in over 3 years. I’ll admit it, I was excited about it. I went out for a warm up and was back at the car approximately 90 seconds later for 3 more layers. It was freezing, 12 degrees when I left the house. I strapped on my Garmin, turned it on, dead. Okay! I think this is the second race in 6 years I would do without a watch. I thought to myself  “Okay, so this is how 2013 is going to go”, big sigh.

I got myself to the start line in one piece and actually warmed up. I shed some layers and waited those few miserable moments until we lined up and went off. I was in the front, and the funny thing about a 5k is that you know the basic finishing order 100 yards into the race. It’s immediately apparent who your competition is. Very unlike triathlon where sometimes you don’t even know that someone is ahead of you and has been since the swim.

So we get sent off and it’s apparent that it will be just two of us going for the W. We run side by side for a little and I am painfully aware of her long stride and my short bulldog cadence. Around 0.25 mile I pull in front through a narrow section. From then until the turn around I remember nothing but heavy cold legs and a gray view filled with the steam from my rapid breathing. The words in my head were silent. I had nothing, but foot falls and expiration.

At the turn around it became obvious that I had all of a 5 stride lead. Something than can be erased with any sort of effort and by mile 2 I heard her effort behind me and then next to me, and then watched her run on ahead.

I hate being passed. Don’t we all? Whether it’s running around Wash Park, on the Highline, at the track, or in a race. When someone goes by it’s an instant trigger for the brain to start spewing a shit-ton of verbal diarrhea. I think that you can probably predict athletic success based simply on what your brain spews when you are passed. Who needs Vo2 tests, or metabolic efficiency, or FTP, or time trials? Brain diarrhea is probably a better indicator than any of those.

My brain diarrhea has changed through the years. Back in 07 it started out pretty negative (you’re not good enough, you’re still too fat, you just started this, she looks experienced). Then through the years it morphed as my confidence grew (go after it, go get her, pull back, rest, and attack, you can do this, so-and-so is watching). As of recent, my brain talk has morphed yet again. It’s more in the give up mode now (you’re okay, that’s okay, 2nd is okay). A lot of race day “okays” have yielded a pretty disappointing year. Regardless of fitness, I didn’t go to the well this year, I was “okay” a lot of the time.

So when she passed, there it was in my brain. The literal nonstop blither of how good she looked, how strong she was, how I was going to lose this race, how I went out too fast, how my legs were heavy, how hard I was breathing. It all just rushed in. I thought about telling Troy I got 2nd and hearing him say “Great job honey.” I heard the excuses come out my mouth to him “Boy it was cold, she was young, and fast, I just couldn’t quite hang, it’s January, not a big deal”.

I ran on, watched her just 10 steps ahead negotiating the course, listening to my brain, damn it’s loud.

We went over a little bridge and this very tiny, and I mean VERY tiny voice said to me “But it’s 2013.” I let that voice get louder and it said “Aren’t you tired of being okay, don’t you remember that the disappointment of 2nd hurts, that it sticks with you, that it never really feels okay afterwards.” And I felt it, I felt the sting of it and I had a flash of the 2nds of my past. My tiny voice grew louder and it said “Not in 2013. Not to start 2013, damn it girl RUN…RUN RUN RUN.” The bumper sticker of the lady parked in front of me in the parking lot flashed in my vision.

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I stood up straight, I pulled in my core, I thought of all the time I’ve been spending in the weight room to get stronger. I thought about my trainer, Jen, she makes us do these strange running exercises that I can’t even explain and they popped in my brain at that moment. I picked up my feet like she’s made me do, and I sprinted.

33 year old mom of 1, just letting it all go and sprinting as hard as I knew how, as fast as I could muster.  I bridged the gap, and I pulled ahead by a single step. Surely this young gazelle will be coming with me, her life and experiences in their infancy, her zest for life so fresh.

But this old bulldog is not having it, not today, not in 2013, not in 2013. I’ve laid down and rolled over enough and I’m done with it. I never let up, and I smeared myself out there 100%. The only thing that was okay at that moment was the effort, making the effort, the intention behind my soul.

I am the proud new owner of a gift certificate for a new pair of shoes.

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I don’t care about the shoes. It’s not about the shoes. None of this stuff is about the shoes, the bowls, the free tacos. It’s not about who your sponsors are, or whose recovery boots you sit in. It’s not about that. When it is, then I assure you that your brain diarrhea is headed towards toxicity. It’s about the voice between the ears, and for me, about the little voice that came out today. I’ve missed her so terribly, and honestly, I kinda forgot she existed. She has been really quiet for some time.

So, 2013, I have no resolutions for you. I’m not going to tell others to do better, be better, act better (Except my athletes…they don’t count). I’m not going to spew my training log on social media. I’m not going to talk about what I’m going to do.

I’m just going to go do it.

Posted in Race Report, Running

2012 Austin 70.3

Posted on November 4, 2012 by goSonja| 6 Comments

I thought after Kona that my season was done, but when PIC told me that she was going to race Austin 70.3 I wanted to join in. I was in no way ready for this race specifically. I mean, I had more fruity drinks than workouts by the time I stepped on the line. It was a swan song. Just one more for fun.

PIC and I had way too much fun in Austin. We saw Punky in the airport before we left Denver, and we ate at this really good co-op on our first day there. We had burgers, and fries, and they were awesome. It was freezing outside and the weather seemed to get colder as the trip went on. We drove the course, partially in the dark, stopped for popsicles and junk food and ate it all. I had this chocolate banana mexican popsicle that was to die for, and slightly suspect.

We checked into our hotel and it was totally seedy. I think there was a fair amount of drugs being sold in the hallway that evening, and PIC and I spent the hours of 3-5am huddled together in bed thinking we were going to die. I can’t imagine the quantity of drugs you can buy with 2 fully decked out Quintana Roo CD0.1s. Needless to say, we lived through it (barely) and we let out a huge sigh and awww when we checked into the Hilton the following day (you try fitting two built up bikes, two empty bike boxes, lots of luggage, and two women into a Nissan Altima…no easy task). Lunch with Brian was awesome, it’s been years since the three of us have all been together and was great to catch up.

On race morning, which was so cold I had on every single piece of clothing I brought on top of one another, my main concern was thorns. My transition spot was a bed of those kinds of thorns that are multisided and evil. One step and my Uggs were loaded with them.

The transition was a “clean transition.” That was said to us over and over. I knew my tires were good and that I would carry my bike to the mount line, it was my feet I was worried about. They wouldn’t let me put a towel down. I asked, I begged, I gave sad eyes to the cute guy, nope, he was unyielding. I thought about getting an official but decided to not clip my shoes in my pedals and to just wear them through T1.

After setting up T1 we nestled ourselves into one of the cabs of the rented Rider trucks that Ironman had. Nobody ever knew, it was our secret hideaway. The water temp was like 30 degrees warmer than the air so the cold temps actually were fine during the swim.

I swam as best I could, tried to stay on feet, got a bit muddled at the end, but felt good about it. AND, I really enjoyed it. I was warm and it was a wave start so I didn’t get beat to smithereens, which was so relaxing compared to Kona.

I ran to my bike, put a coat on, and started to put my shoes on. I had to wipe 20+ thorns out of each foot. They were in deep. I carried my bike out, mounted and got out of there.

I started in the next to last wave so I had a blast out there. I got to pass lots of people all day and I totally totally loved the course. It was cold when I started and my legs were quite chilly, but they warmed up about 10 miles in and I just had fun. I rode hard, but it felt good to ride hard. I just gave it what I had, and didn’t worry about much else.

Into T2 I threw on the Newtons and went running. 1 mile in I pulled off my HR strap and shoved it down my pants. I just ran by feel, as hard as I could, but I enjoyed myself as well. I found a guy at one point that had a metronome. I asked him what it was set to and he said 89. I run a pretty natural 90, so I had a blast running with him and marching to the beat of his little beep. I’m not sure one of those things would make me any faster, but it was fun for a few miles.

At one point he said “I just did IM Louisville a few weeks ago” and I retorted “Oh yea, I just did Kona” and I felt immediately bad. I even said “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to rain on your parade.” I didn’t at all mean it to come off as arrogant, I just meant to imply that we had something in common. Total dumb bunny move there and I felt bad the rest of the day over that one.

I really liked the course. It was three loops, but not boring loops, they were exciting and I really enjoyed myself. But my feet hurt and I couldn’t understand why. My heels and the balls of my feet were so sore and my Newtons never make me sore. Come to find out after the race it was the remnants of the 20+ thorns in my feet that made that pain. Talk about a prickly situation (bada-boom).

The Mile High Multisport crew was out there cheering and they made me feel like a queen the 6X I saw them out there. They cheered for me like Troy cheers for me, and I tried hard to smile every time I saw them.

The finish line was a total blast, it’s inside the arena. I was glad to make it to the line, as I am every race. I had no idea what my placing or time or anything was, but I did know that I enjoyed the race and it reminded me of how I felt when I first got in the sport. Just happy to be able to race my heart out for the sheer reason of physical movement. Michelle and I have agreed that we can’t ever race it again. They temps were in the 60s and this race is usually in the 90s. We had the perfect day, and don’t dare temp fate. One and Done!
This is probably one of my favorite pictures of all year. I love PIC.

Michelle and I both ended up 2nd in our AG. The lady who won mine was not only drop dead gorgeous, but out swam, out biked, and out ran me, was so far ahead I didn’t know she existed, and put out a stellar performance (maybe? who knows how she felt, but she dominated for sure). I look forward to following her from here on out. The other lady on the podium at the awards was a Nun. Rad.

The weekend was topped off with a few drinks with Jess Smith and friends and some damn fine TexMex. Michelle and I went for ice cream, and then snuggled the night away before a 6am flight…which I slept through.

And with that, I officially put a cap on the 2012 season. It’s time for some time away. The Garmin has been put away for good, and my bike is still in the box. I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m not that concerned.

 

Posted in Race Report, Triathlon, Uncategorized

2012 Kona Ironman Run

Posted on October 22, 2012 by goSonja| 25 Comments

I really don’t want to write this one. Deep Breaths!

So, I get out running and I’m not feeling too great, but I don’t feel horrible. Kona is a hard race, so part of it is that I’m just feeling the accumulation of the days events. Hailey passes me right away and takes off in front of me. I’m at just under 8 min pace and working pretty hard, so I start sipping my EFS flask with some Prerace in it, and taking water with it as well.

I had this awesome encounter with a chick who was cheering. You know how when you are tired you really don’t want to move over at all when someone is in your way? Yea, I totally nailed her, and the photographer caught it. Oops! Sorry!

At the turn around I am optimistic, I’m in 5th in the AG and while I know I have 21 to go, things are looking good. I saw the time gaps back to the runners…okay…to Jocelyn really… and I thought if I had my best run she would have to have hers too to get me. I was optimistic. A lesson to all of you out there…optimism at mile 5 in an Ironman is pointless! At mile 8 I take a few salt tabs, and shortly after things turn south.

I don’t really want to write about this. I’ve debated whether I even should. The thought of it honestly makes me not want to leave the house, it’s embarrassing. So with that, and for the sake of being a masochist, I’ll do it. But just know, if you are grossed out, don’t read this (just scan through and look at the pictures). I’m just hoping that someday I can figure all this out and have some sort of lesson learned. Okay, here goes.

At mile 8 without any warning, I shit myself.

No upset tummy, nothing. All was well (ish) until I had this weird feeling of what was happening. I pulled into a permanent bathroom on Ali’i, pulled down my shorts, and had no idea what to do with myself. I can’t even explain it, nor do I want to, it was really really bad. The worst I’ve ever experienced. I will tell you that I spent multiple minutes in there and that it took multiple rolls of toilet paper and 12 flushes to leave the bathroom the way I found it (which wasn’t great).

Here she is in all her glory. Thank you to Scott who continuously texted me photos of said bathroom after the race. I’m thinking of having a plaque installed “Historical Landmark: Site where Sonja’s 2012 Kona went down the S#!*er”

Getting out of there I was completely and utterly disgusted and demoralized. I had no fight in me and all I could think about was that I reeked like shit and probably looked just as bad. The next two miles I was embarrassed and disgusted in myself. I couldn’t look anyone in the eye who was cheering for me (thank you Kacie, Eggers, Katie). But I kept running, although slower. (Everyone stayed busy with the chalk!)

I got to the bottom of Palani and I saw my mom, and I walked. It’s the first time I have ever walked in an Ironman. Just doing that felt like a major surrender and total failure. Can you tell??

I told mom what happened, and she said that you couldn’t tell. I was not convinced at all, but photos from dad do not show poo all over me like I thought. Knowing what came out of me and how unequipped I was to clean myself up, I just thought I was covered. At the top of Palani Troy was there. I started crying.

I was barely running, and I was crying and talking to him while he walked next to me. I told him I didn’t have any more fight, and that I wanted to quit. I really wanted to quit, and I had no more fight in me. He told me to get some sponges at the next aid station and while there was no way I was going to stick sponges down my shorts, his words did keep me from quitting and gave me the task of continuing on, even if it was just one more mile.

As I took a left onto the Queen K there was a lot going through my head. I was so disappointed that I lost my fight. I told myself I needed to take a break from the sport, from Ironman, from Kona. If I had no fight, there was no point. I was hard on myself. Towards the bottom of the hill, I remembered something I always tell my athletes…”Everything that goes wrong in Ironman can be solved by slowing down.” And with that I gave up.

Now “give up” is what I called it at the time, but with a little perspective, I can now see that I didn’t give up, I didn’t walk off the course. I hold a deep respect for the island of Hawaii, for the sport, and for this race. I did not give up, but I did consciously slow to the pace of a turtle (albeit a fast turtle).

I slowed down, I watched the heart rate plummet. I saw the pace go to 10+ min miles. I didn’t care. I walked through the aid stations. And like not a fast walk, more of a saunter. I had no goals, nothing driving me to keep a good clip, or any clip at all. I just walked and jogged and that was it. Jocelyn passed me and she was hauling ass, I kept her in my mind the rest of the race, just hoping that she made it to the podium (she did).

On one end my mind was horrible. I was down on myself, and disappointed in myself, and then another part of my brain really just didn’t care, and then another part of me just decided to have fun. The fun was more of a defense mechanism than anything, but I figured…you gave up…why suffer?

That’s when the tables started to turn for me emotionally.

So I made friends with a guy in a HelloKitty kit. We jogged and chatted. I had to go to the bathroom again at 15, this time in the port-a-pottie, not my shorts. I noted that I was still disgusting. I ran into the NEL and Kendra who is coached by Dirk passed me. She really tried to get me to go with her, and I kid you not…I laughed and said “Nah, it’s all good.” I got passed by tons of people in my AG and other AGs. I said good job to everyone, smiled, gave shakas and smiles.

In the NEL I had to go potty again. This one was particularly bad and I lost several liters of liquid out my ass, again, I warned you. That was a bit alarming and when I got out of there I was pretty weak. I kinda reasoned that I had that super F-ed up gut thing where the body starts pulling fluid from places it shouldn’t. I got a little nervous in here and knew that I would need to be smart to actually make it to the finish.

BUT! I was so close to special needs. So I got my bag and got my Pringles and Rice Crispie Treat out of there. I started jogging and the Pringles were falling out of the little container. I said to myself “what are you doing, stop running.” So I walked and ate my snacks. Like walked slowly.

No goals, no fight, nada, just focused on making it to the beautiful Ali’i. I ran up out of the NEL…maybe 13 min mile pace. Walked the aid station at the top, cheered for some people. It just was what it was.

Back on the queen K I kept tabs on my watch, knew I would most likely break 11, didn’t really care, but kinda did a little. When Adrienne passed me I told her good job and I tried to go with her, maybe 8:30 pace or so, but I couldn’t hang and felt pretty week from trying.

Then I saw Troy. He had run out there to check on me, since last time he saw me I was wanting to quit. He said he thought I would quit in the NEL and that every time he saw another split come up he was relieved.

He trotted next to me for a little while, it was like 12 min pace I think. He told me about the race and who won, and he told me about Michelle and that she never made it out of T2. This bummed me out in my heart. Suddenly I was filled with gratitude and I started to smile. I felt lucky that I had the opportunity to not quit. Some people didn’t even get that, their bodies gave out before their minds had the opportunity to say no more. What a privilege, to be able to choose to just jog it in.

Eventually Troy ran on ahead and I trotted my way in. I was perfectly happy and looked forward to the top of Palani. Annie ran with me up the Dave Scott Mark Allen hill and we held hands. My dad was there taking pictures and I was happy to see him. I smiled and did high 5s.

I did a hula dance up that hill and then all the way down Palani. I stopped to hug my inlaws. I smiled and gave thumbs up to everyone. I high 5ed the KE guys. I saw so many people I knew and gave them high 5s. People were passing me left and right. I didn’t care. I saw Terry Nugent, and gave him a hug and told him I loved him. hahhaha!!!

Then PIC was there on Ali’i. I stopped and hugged her and told her it would be oaky and we would get through it. I ran down the chute and saw Uncle Norm cheering and taking pictures.

Yup, dude in an arm sling beat me! Hahaha! Good for him, he looks like he had a rough day out there! Didn’t we all?!

Christine came zooming by me just as fast as she did in Cozumel last year. I gave a leap at the finish, and I smiled and waved to the camera, because I know you all are watching and I take that very seriously. Let this be a lesson….fast race in Kona…bad jump at finish….slow race in Kona…..good jump at finish! Hahah!!

Christine and I hugged and hugged and hugged. That girl will always hold a special place in my heart. Neither of us had the day we hoped for (so cliche) but we were both happy as clams at that finish line. I do love my 30-34 ladies!

I was fine at the finish. That was a first. It was like I had a 16 mile cool down jog, which I guess I did. My muscles have rejoiced in less soreness and my feet have not a single blister or sore toenail. I was sunburned and chaffed, but 48 hours later that resolved itself.

As always, a huge thanks to my family and sponsors. I’m glad I thanked them a few blogs ago because they probably don’t want their names associated with the poo-fest of this blog.

Am I disappointed? Yes and no. I am proud of the way I handled the situation. I’m bummed that I didn’t keep fighting, but on some levels I’m not sure I would have made it out of the NEL if I had. After having some time to process it, I feel really really blessed that I had the opportunity to both start and finish the race. A lot of people don’t ever get the chance to start this race, despite wanting to so badly, and some that start, don’t get to finish. I am thankful, very very thankful.

This race has provided much perspective and was such a reminder of all the wonderful people I have in my life. I live to fight another day, and hopefully live to fight during another Kona.

 

Posted in Race Report, Running, Travel, Triathlon

2012 Kona Ironman Swim Bike

Posted on October 21, 2012 by goSonja| 4 Comments

Race night I slept like the dead. I was tired. Our room didn’t have AC and was rather hot and we were right on the ocean with the waves crashing all night in the windows so I dreamed about swimming in rough waters.

Before the race I was more relaxed than usual. I went through the usual body marking, bike pumping, nutrition downing, portapotty using routine. This year was nice in that Michelle and I were participating in the Korey Stringer Institute study so we got our own loo on race morning. That perk was worth the extra time in data collection.

We found Laura too and she hung with us pre race. I did my typical Kona routine and got a good spot on the wall. We ran into Jen C and that was awesome to have a friendly face there to make eye contact with in those final minutes.

When the guys started drumming, I started dancing. I was definitely more happy than I was nervous, excited to get things started and to get the show on the road.

Into the water we go. I always swim over to the sea wall and wave to my family. It was awesome to see everyone there, especially PICs kids and Annie. I blew some kisses and then swam off to get my spot on the canoe. Check out my awesome TYR goggles that I got to custom design. They are orange, and red, and pink. LOVE!

On the canoe we ran into Grant just like we did last year. I gotta admit, I missed Kendra a bit at that point, but knew I would see her out on the course cheering. Before I knew it we were lining up and the whole “continental drift” was beginning. Every year it’s the same thing. Mike Riley yells at us to stay back, the officials on surfboards yell at us to stay back, and the crowd of 2000 drift forward. Same thing every year.

The cannon didn’t work this year so Mike just yelled GO GO GO GO and off everyone went. Then I felt like the cannon sounded a few seconds later but I could have been imagining things.

Swim swim!!! Here I go. I got out well and actually found clear water in the first 500 Meters or so. Then the bashing began. Next time I am definitely stealing a mens blue cap because I swear the pink cap is a target for bullying.

Let’s just call it like it is, I got brutalized out there. I got booted off the feet I was swimming on, I got run into from both sides, I got decked in the head repeatedly. I just got harassed.

A few times out there I just wanted it to be over, to stop the physical bashing, the stop and go, the speed up and slow down, and the maneuvering that I had to do. But, alas, it’s the way these things go. I’ll keep practicing my swimming so maybe some day I will be amongst less people. I own it completely.

Oh, there was current out there. On the way out it drug us right and the way back it drug us left. In fact when I hit the pier, I actually ran directly into the end of the pier rather than the side of it. Then I had to turn right and swim along the end of the pier before making a left to swim along the pier.

The conditions were no worse than last year, but the water was a bit less clear than last year. I remember trying to relax from a particularly bad bashing and telling myself to look at the fishies and not being able to see them.

I got out and saw the clock and felt fine about it. 1:07, little slower than last year, but not too much worse for wear.

T1 was really quick. The only thing I had in my T1 bag was my sunglasses.

Out onto the bike I felt good. I stuck directly with my nutrition plan and also with my pacing plan from Dirk. I was calculating my time as I went along and felt solid with how I was feeling.

There was a lot of drafting, and a good amount of red cards being given out. This was cool to watch in action. As I have said before I try very very very hard to remain legal at all times. I will share with you something. At a race of this caliber everyone is fit, and everyone wants to have their best day. Most people in Kona have a race plan, and it usually involves some parameters on power or heart rate or effort or whatnot. Riding legal will often cause you to impact your ideal race plan. This is why I think a lot of people don’t think they are drafting and don’t think they deserve their penalty. (PS: I really dig my bike fit, Thank you Scott)

I talked to a woman who was an official and she said that 50% of people who come into the tent with a drafting penalty don’t think they deserved it. So, here’s why. In order to stay legal, you will be forced out of your plan. There will be times that someone passes you and then they slow down. Sometimes they even coast and stretch. To stay legal, you have to drop out of the zone before repassing or you risk a penalty and if the dude is coasting, you may have to break to do so. He will not receive a penalty for coasting, you will get one for drafting. See, it’s a game and sometimes it requires your heart rate or watts or whatever to go WAY below your plan. Just play the game and you won’t get a red slash through your fancy dandy bike number.

The flip side happens too. I had 3 situations, and you can see them on my power file where I passed the person at the back of a group and thus committed to passing the whole group. My heart rate went to 170. My watts were 230, but that was what I had to do to remain legal. It was on me to do so. Was it part of my optimal plan, not at all.

So, these things happened, I watched a lot of drafting, I watched people stay legal, I watched people try, I watched people get penalties, and all along I rode the race I needed to ride. It was a beautiful day out there, although, there were white caps on the water which is really bothersome to see when you are racing, because you know your day will become very hard at some point.

The wind up to Hawi was in your face. But it wasn’t cross like 2 years ago, so I was fine with it. I’ll take the wind in my face any day. Coming down was fun and fast, and then the 2 mile climb from Kawaihae to the turn onto the Queen K gave us a real taste of what we were in for. HEADWIND.

I have riden this section quite a few times and it was the biggest head wind I have experienced. It’s always a head wind, but usually I can cruise in the 19-20mph at race intensity. This year I was at 17mph for 2 hours. Boo. A lot of people just gave up on remaining legal through this section, the drafting advantage on a steep headwind like this is big, and the officials are extinct at this point.

I passed Michelle in here and she looked really good. I mean we were both in the headwind so we were working hard, but all signs looked good to me. There was an official with me at that point and I know he stuck with Michelle for about 5 minutes. Because we were in the same kit I think he thought we might work together, but he had nothing to hand out, because we don’t.

Into T2 I was really excited. I felt quite good coming off the bike and my tummy felt good. I wasn’t tired of my nutrition and all systems felt a go. Into T2 I saw Hailey! It’s not the first time this year we have been in T2 together. That was awesome to see a familiar kit.

On with the Newtons and the hat and I was off to run a marathon. I was pretty jazzed to get into the meat and potatoes of the day. I felt like I was strong and that it was go time.

Posted in Cycling, Ironman, Race Report, Swimming, Travel, Triathlon

2012 Kona Ironman Prequel

Posted on October 19, 2012 by goSonja| 6 Comments

Gotta admit, it took me some time before I even wanted to write about this years race. I knew how to start it, that’s easy. It’s the ending. It took awhile to really get my head around it. I’m ready now, lets do this. In order to keep you interested, this first post is going to be interspersed with Undie Run photos. Enjoy! Oh and what are Michelle and I this year??? Why…Partners In Crime of Course!!

I looked at the results for the first time yesterday. I finished 19th in my age group, I went 10:51 and on paper, it looks like the wheels fell off. I knew that looking at the numbers I would see the potential and the opportunities that were squandered. Looking at those results were tough, I’m not going to lie there, but before I get too much ahead of myself, let’s get this show on the road.

My post-race thoughts have been more philosophical than anything. And here’s what I have come up with. If someone had a crystal ball, and they were able to tell me how I was going to race at Hawaii and they said to me….

Sonja, you will give up on yourself, you will lose your fight, you will have your slowest time, and when you cross the line you will think you have had your worst race ever.

…then would I still have raced? That’s what I’ve been thinking about for days. And I keep coming back to the same answer…definitely. Yes, even if I had known the outcome before I stepped on the line, I still would have done it. And you wanna know why? Because Ali’i drive is amazing, because the finisher medals are a freaking work of art, because people would gladly donate a limb to race this race, and because failing doesn’t mean I’m a failure, it just means I had the strength to try.

So, there’s that!

Before I get started I want to give thanks. To say this is a selfish sport is totally cliche…but it is. To think that there are people in my life that help me out, that call to check on me, and that are there for me through thick and thin, well, it’s pretty awesome for me.

My family is awesome. Troy and Annie are great at helping me out day in and day out, and both my parents and Troys parents support my racing through and through. My uncle Norm has been to every one of my Konas and perhaps the biggest complement he has given me was to get the triathlon bug himself. He races Honu 70.3 next year!

My sponsors this year have been awesome. The longer I am in the sport the more I realize that some relationships just stick. The guys at QR, the guys at KE, and Ron with Punk rock Racing have been with me through this entire crazy year. Not only do they support me with products, but they really truly believe that I can be successful. The products are awesome, but belief is a priceless gift.

Coach Dirk did his best to get me on the start line in the best shape of my life. My numbers leading up were solid and he gave me a plan the week of the race to go for it. My swimming is getting much better with the help of coach Nick and Karlyn, and I also had lots of diet help from Dina, she’s been awesome to work with.

I also have to give thanks to all the amazing athletes that have been there for me on the pool deck, on my bike, and running with me side by side. These are my people, folks that get it, because we all share triathlon DNA. Michelle, my PIC, she is a sister to me. Not even “like” a sister, but actually blood to me. Beth, Terry, Scott, Wayde, Grant, Kendra, Katy, Jen, Audra, Jocelyn, Jeremy, Laura, Nick, Scotty P, you all have touched me this year.

And lastly, my athletes. They are an extension of my support system and a girl couldn’t ask for better cheerleaders. I hope I continue to set a good example for you (said as she posts photos of her in her underwear).

Thank you for all the support this year. I can’t tell you much about the future, but I can say that a brutal kicking doesn’t take me down. Adversity is only fuel for my belly. There are changes that I need to make and some of them are going to be difficult. Adversity is a given in this sport, and I’ve been lucky to nail many races in past years. In the words of a wise, yet cocky one:

Reassess

Rebuild

Try Again

—Macca

Tomorrow I’ll talk swim and bike.

Posted in Ironman, Race Report, Travel, Triathlon

2012 Boulder 70.3

Posted on August 11, 2012 by goSonja| 9 Comments

DUDE….this race is not easy. Where to even begin?

I wanted to smash it. I trained hard after recovering from CDA. I got uber Grr. I kept to myself, I aimed to hurt in my training. I put in big mileage, hard mileage. I wanted to be good. I tapered, watched what I ate, rested, blah blah blah…etc etc et.

I lined up ready to belt it out. Be aggressive, get some feet, go big. I had my Prerace, I did my two mile warm up, it all went as planned. I tried to not line up next to my teammate Katy even though we were chatting at the start. Knowing she’s a 25 minute swimmer those were not feet I could hang onto and if I tried then KABOOM would happen by the first yellow buoy.

The start was rough. I got banged around but soon enough I got some feet and I felt like they were faster than I would swim alone. The resevour was so brown that I would hit her feet and still couldn’t see them. I couldn’t even see my hands the entire swim. But I didn’t let that stop me. I sighted lots and made it my only goal to keep those feet. Sometimes it required some sprinting to catch back up to them, but she generally led me through the various waves ahead of us and delivered me on the beach with one of my best swims in a 70.3….31:08.

Troy yelled at me that Katy was 5 minutes up. I ran through T1, did all the usual tasks and got out of there. I could hear PIC Michelle at the mount line yelling that I had a good swim. That really helped to hear that. When a swimmer tells you that you swam well, it sticks. T1=1:52

Off and onto the bike, I went for it. Hard hard hard. If I was going to make time up on Katy, who I knew was the AG leader, I had to go hard. I rode about as best as I could have. The watts were high, the effort was high. I was trying out a new nutrition strategy. I had skratch labs in my water bottles and an EFS liquid shot on my top tube. I got through all of my nutrition by the end of the ride and while I watched the watts come down towards the end, I felt solid about the effort.

Towards the end of the first lap there is an out and back which takes me about 3 minutes. That first lap I was hoping to see Katy there, but nope, she was still more than 3 minutes up. Second lap, same thing, no Katy. About that time I realized that she had probably figured out that she can bike much harder than she has been in the past, and she was long gone. The girl is a stud swimmer and a stud runner, so I knew it was just a matter of time before she realized that her engine to ride hard is already in her. I think she’s clear on that now.

I felt really good about my effort and was happy to bike several minutes faster than last years race. I feel like my bike is where it needs to be right now and that I’ve seen some good progress this year. 2:25:14

Coming in off the bike, I ran into transition and put my bike on the rack and then put my shoes on. Humm, that’s odd. My shoes are too small. Like really too small. Wait, these aren’t my shoes. Wait, this isn’t my number. Crap, I’m at the wrong spot. Off with the too tiny shoes, bike off the rack, go find correct rack, put on correct shoes, put bike back, and get out of there. Doh, major doh. T2 = 1:28

Off on the run, Troy told me Katy was 5 minutes up and I gave him the shoulder shrug which is the international sign for “There’s nothing I can do about that.” As I got into my run I could tell something was not right. I was not feeling well. Now, I know that most people don’t feel well on the run most of the time, and I’m right there with you, but I felt just very very “not good.”

My legs were heavy, I couldn’t get my feet cruising, I was just lead. Did I bike too hard? Did I not rest enough last week? These things are going through my head, but I just feel like lead. Every step was effort, but I was talking nicely to myself and just telling myself to “fight.” I said Sonja FIGHT, just FIGHT and you will be okay.

Most of these miles run together. I remember seeing Jen at the out and back. If people in my AG had passed me here I wouldn’t have known it. I was hurting, and my ear kept popping. Like every 5 seconds I had to clear the ear. Then I tried to shake water out of it like I do when I get out of the pool and I almost fell down. I got really woozy dizzy after that and said to myself “No more shaking your head.”

Somewhere in the first lap I remember feeling like my chest was restricted. I tried to pull on my kit top to loosen it up but it just felt so restricting. I race okay in this top when I am at race weight, but I’m not right now and it was too tight. So I took it off. It felt so good, so I removed my HR strap as well. I shoved them down the back of my shorts. That was a good move for me. Also a good reminder that it’s time to start getting a bit more lean.

Next thing I remember was going by Troy at the end of the lap. I just remember telling him “I don’t think I’m going to make it.” Writing it now sounds silly. This coming from a girl who’s run 100 miles in one day. Only 6.5 miles to go and I don’t think I’m going to make it. I was hurting so bad. At about mile 8 I caught up to Jen. From here on out she pretty much got me through the rest of the run.

I told her I felt horrible and she talked me through it. I just focused on staying next to her, she did the talking, and I grunted a little bit. She gave me some salt pills which I have never taken. They helped a lot. And then I started on the Coke. That helped too. The second loop was a lot better than the first but ONLY and I mean ONLY because of Jen.

On the second to last aid station Jen said “I really need this aid” and we got separated. I was still pretty out of it, but I knew I only had 15 minutes or so of pain. I just wanted to get it done at that point.

So I held on. All I could say was “hold on” over and over. (Finish line smile for Troy)

Jen finished right behind me and she told me to go to medical. I said “I’ll come around.” That’s what I always say. But several hours later I still hadn’t come around and so I went to medical where I drank cup after cup after cup of cold nuun (like 14 of them). Then I came back to life. No IV, boo ya. A big thanks to KE for the tent. I did some serious time in the tent trying to come around after the race. That tent was a life saver for me.

My effort was good for 2nd place in the AG…with a 1:38:37 run. One of my worst runs ever, if not ever. My total time was 4:38:19 which was about 3 minutes faster than last year.

A huge congrats to Katy who won the AG and the amateur title in 4:22. Yup, I got spanked nice and good…so good my ass is black and blue. 16 minutes…double that and I now expect Katy to go under 9:28 at Kona….look out for her!!

Obviously I couldn’t have good days or tough days without the help of my sponsors. Kompetitive Edge, PunkRock Racing, Quintana Roo, and First Endurance. I learned that First Endurance MUST be in my bottles for all races. The electrolyte content can’t be made up for with other products. It’s just what works for me. And an especially huge thanks to Jen. She was my guiding light out there and I can’t thank her enough for her support.

So, I have some work to do on my run. It was a disaster out there. I was talking to Dirk about my day and he was like “Some days are like that” and it’s true. I am grateful for 2/3 of a great race, and 1/3 of a tenacious race. Every time I make it to the finish line I am overjoyed (see above photo for evidence), every time. Many times out there I thought about Michelle who wasn’t on the start line and I was grateful for every painful step. I can run, I can walk, my body works, I am lucky, bottom line.

Posted in Race Report, Triathlon

Ironman CDA 2012 – The Run

Posted on July 5, 2012 by goSonja| 5 Comments

Off I went, clomp clomp clomp down the path. There were oodles of people lining the course the entire first mile. It was uphill but I didn’t even feel it, I just waved, and smiled, and did more shakas to everyone. I felt just great, not bad from the bike, a little heavy like usual, but nothing out of the ordinary really. I quickly settled into the pace that I had discussed with Dirk and just cranked along, waving, thanking volunteers and making friends. Who am I?

At one point I remember thinking, I’m being fueled by joy. That really was it. The miles clicked off more seamlessly than ever. I was working, don’t get me wrong, but it was so fun it didn’t feel like work at times. I passed a few ladies and I made sure to really support every single one, telling them good job and to keep it up and run hard so that we could meet again in Kona. So many of the people around me were in the hunt for a slot and they all knew it, but I felt off the hook a bit.

I will say that having my slot was a nice feeling, and I felt that I could relax more than I typically would. I made a friend from Ft. Collins and we ran together for a long time, around 11 miles I think. Side by side for most of it, we even chatted it up. It was his first, and I’m not sure where we lost each other, but I thought we were going to stick together until the finish. I don’t understand how I don’t have a single picture with him in it, but I don’t. Sad.

I thought I would hate the hills that were added to the course since I did this race in 2010, but they weren’t so bad. I had given them too much credit. I saw Katy and Michelle on the hills and they both looked really good, focused, like they should be, but good. Katy looked like she was going to hang on for the AG win, but Jocelyn did run her down just at the end. Those ladies were both way up the road and I was miles behind so I didn’t exactly have a huge sense of urgency, knowing that they were both phenomenal runners. But I also didn’t give up, and for the first time I didn’t even know where I was in the AG. Usually I’m counting and looking at numbers, but this time I was just running and staying strong and very in the moment.

I caught up to Michelle. She was having the race I always knew was in her. She was hurting, like all 30 minute PRs should, but she was doing it! Not a lot of chatting went on, I didn’t really know what to say, she was killing it…I told her that. She was winning…I told her that…the next lady was way back there…I told her that. What else could I say? Oh, I did tell her that I flatted which she didn’t hear, which was probably a good thing. Then she told me to “Go on now” and I didn’t stick around to bug her any longer. She had an amazing day, an AG win, and a trip back to Kona.

The fun did eventually run out for me, somewhere in the 18 mile range. I was sad to see it go, but like all good things, they come to an end. I noticed the pace starting to go south, and the pain sinking into my joints. I got quieter, limiting my engagement to shakas and thumbs up, the smile probably faded, and it took more focus to keep pushing forward. This is common in Ironman, no matter how well your day is going, a time will come when things hurt pretty darn bad.

My knees hurt, and my foot was cramping. It likes to do that sometimes. But this time, I just went internal and I really focused on my foot and the word “release.” I could feel it let up and then tighten again, then let up, then tighten, and I would really focus hard on that word. About 3 minutes later, after a lot of focus, I felt the foot let go, and it straightened out, and the foot cramp never came back. It happened in about the same spot at CDA 2 years back, so maybe my body was just remembering and I had to make a new memory.

Those last miles hurt, but there is also this anticipation that you are almost done, that you “did it” whatever “it” is, and that you are going to make it to the line. I always feel good about that and it lessens the pain those last miles. With about 1 mile to go Troy and Annie were there and I gave high 5s and Annie ran down the street holding her sign that said “Go Mommy Go.” Those really are the moments where I am fearless, all my concerns have melted away and I’m just watching my daughter run down the road cheering. What a life.

I made the final turn and I milked it. I was neck and neck with a Wattie Ink guy “Dan” and I knew I was stealing his thunder. I knew it. He was letting me steal it too, and I am thankful to him for that, a true gentleman, he was. I really lived it up the whole way down that line. I gave a good solid jump at the line, like a nice one, and then I was done!

I felt great, no need for medical, not even close. I got my pizza, chocolate milk (best finish line food ever), chips, grapes, and then headed to massage. Half way through a lady came in and said that my friend was in medical and that everyone out there wanted me to know that. So I got off the table and went to find what I knew was Michelle in medical. She was sitting next to Tony and they were all cuddled in blankets, which was funny because Michelle had two ice packs on her quads. Eventually they both came around, no IVs needed and made their way into recovery.

What a great day! Being a part of so many of my friends first Ironmans was amazing. Having Katie and Emily get through their first Ironmans was rewarding as a coach. Seeing James complete Ironman #12 of this year was awesome. It was just a really neat day. I’m not a fan of that swim, but it was well worth it for that gem of a bike course. Stunning really.

I stood on the line fearless, I gave it what I had, and returned oodles of data to Dirk for inspection. So hopefully we can build on this race and set a strong course for Kona. I am constantly humbled by the Ironman. I see such perseverance out there, such inspiration, and it always teaches me new things about myself. A week ago, I felt like success in this race was going to be hard to come by, but little did I know it was the opposite. It was an extremely joyful day.

Thank you to my sponsors Quintana Roo, Kompetitive Edge, Punk Rock Racing, TYR, and First Endurance. Thank you to Jim at Cyclemetrix for making my bike ride flawlessly, despite the sorry state it came to you in. Thank you Troy and Annie for always being there for me, for believing in me, and supporting all that I dream of. Lastly a big thanks to Dirk. He is one patient German and I am blessed to have him in my corner this year.

Posted in Ironman, Race Report, Running, Triathlon

Ironman CDA 2012 – The Bike

Posted on June 30, 2012 by goSonja| 6 Comments

So I really had nothing to lose in this race, which still didn’t stop me from being scared of losing something (I don’t know what…face maybe). In line with that, I love this interview with Lauren Fleshman, especially the part about understanding that failing doesn’t mean you are a failure. It’s a good one!

Part of why I signed up for CDA was as a dry run for Kona under Dirk. I wanted to see how I felt under Dirks tutelage, how my legs felt after his taper, it was a big experiment of sorts. Also I had executed 5 Ironmans with basically the same race plan and I was excited to try the plan that Dirk had suggested. This meant going quite a bit harder on the bike. It was a risk…a big KABOOM could happen. But nothing ventured, nothing gained. I have this quote in my little quote book, it says:
Nothing Started,
Nothing Experienced,
Nothing Learned,
Nothing Finished.

I was going for it. I hit that heart rate he suggested and drilled it. But here’s the deal. I could not wipe the biggest smile off my face. I rode though town giving shakas to EVERYONE. Like…EVERYONE. I was smiling, hamming it up, waving, shaka all over the place. Like the complete opposite of normal focused Sonja. It wasn’t that I wasn’t taking things seriously, it was just that I was having SO MUCH FUN.

I encouraged everyone around me, told them good job, talk talk talk. I gave shakas to the volunteers, to the bag pipe players, to the lady dancing zumba on the stage. I smiled, I made eye contact, I had fun. But I also nailed my plan. It was an odd turn of events for me, I had nothing to lose, and I was fearless.

The “happies” did not leave me, they stayed with me the entire bike. CDA has a 15 mile out and back along the lake and then the new course goes out to a highway for a 42 mile out and back. Then you do it all again. The way out is mostly up with 4 distinct climbs. The way back is generally more downwards, with 3 climbs. Of course I was watching my time gaps to Katy B (AKA uber studette swimmer, fastest swim split of the day in 53 minutes, my Team KE possee, and eventual 2nd in our AG and 5th woman overall, PROs included) and PIC (who you all know). At 6 miles in Katie had 16 minutes on me and PIC had 5. I had my work clearly cut out for me, but those two kept me motivated and kept me pushing for higher watts.

Starting into the first big climb I came upon Keith. He’s one of my closest friends (Moab 100 pacer extraordinare, AKA has seen me at my worst) and he said “Great swim Son” when I passed him. He said I was talking before I passed him, talked as I passed him and talked all the way until he couldn’t hear me. Dang I was happy. Every photographer I gave a big smile and a shaka! Totally Jazzercised!

At 35 miles in at the turn around on the highway Katy had 11 minutes on me and PIC had 3:30. I kept the pedal down, legs cranking, and a smile on my face. I had a group of guys go past me and there was a bit of a loose pack dynamic going on with them. I talked to a nice woman and we reminded each other to stay away from them because they were trouble, with a capitol T!

I loved the way back on the freeway. The descents were awesome, you could pedal down most of them and I was flying and smiling and loving the scenery. My QR CD0.1 was feeling great under me and all I could think was “awesome.” My legs felt really really good, and strong, and ready to shred. I was just cranking and happy to boot. I can not say enough wonderful things about my bike. It’s amazing how much of a difference a comfortable and well fit bike can do for your races.

Coming back through town was total hilarity, I hit the 1/2 way point at 2:42 and was a little shocked. Another one of those would make for an awesome bike split! I came upon Jocelyn who would eventually win our AG and take 4th woman overall (PROs included). I went through town waving, smiling, giving shakas, so freaking happy and jazzed to BE ALIVE. People were yelling my name, I was doing fist pumps. It was rather funny looking back. Jocelyn pulled up next to me and said “You know everyone here.” Actually I had only seen a few I knew, I was just loving up the crowd. I hadn’t seen Troy which worried me. I came up with a few crazy stories in my head, mostly involving Tony (AKA big brotha Beeson) not making it out of the swim (he was fine). I found out later everyone was worried because they couldn’t find me…all because of my green vest (green dress vest…that’s cruel).

We got out of town, onto lap #2. I felt like I was sitting really good, I was with Jocelyn, we were making our way up to the front of the race, I was ready to get off the bike with uber runner Katy B and Jocelyn and to go for broke. I told Jocelyn, “Now is where we get to work.” Lap 2 is where the poo hits the fan usually, where you have to dig deep on the bike because it’s not as easy any more. If only I could wipe this huge smile off my face and get serious here!

Then I started to feel like my back tire was squishy squashy. Humm? I kinda bounced on my seat to see if I could feel the rim hit the pavement and I did. Then I tried to look at it, but that’s always tough. I thought about asking Jocelyn because she was right there, but I didn’t want to interrupt her race with my issues. As we went up an incline I watched her pedal away and I was pedaling really hard. I knew I had a flat.

I pulled over next to a really nice family sitting in lawn chairs. They all hopped up to help and I said “No, I don’t want to get DQed.” Sure enough, I was flat but it was a slow leak and just squishy down to the rim but not totally flat. I also was on a set of rented wheels so that I could have power data.

The story of the flat is kinda long, but I’ll make it short. The valve extender kept me from deflating the tube all the way, so I’m trying to change the tube when the tube is rather inflated (to maybe 30-50psi). It was challenging and there was blood involved, and it slowed me down badly. My spare tubes and CO2 were WELL taped to my bike via electrical tape, this slowed me down badly too. I got it done! It’s all goooood! I think I said that like ten times to the family in the lawn chairs “It’s ALLL GOOOODDD!” I was fearless changing that flat, I knew I could do it, I knew I was quite capable, if only I could get the darn tube out.

Right when I finished inflating it with my CO2, the flat changing moto pulled up. He said to me “If you give me 1 minute I will check your work and pump your tire to 120psi”. I thought about it and said yes…what’s 1 more minute? So he did that, pumped it up, and put my tire back on. I almost asked to do that myself, because, really, I did change it all on my own, and I was proud of that.

Ten thank you’s and a few more “It’s all good”s and lots of smiles later, I was back on the road. A guy on a mountain bike rode up and said “Your looking good, Dirk is watching” or something like that, and I said “Well then tell him I just flatted” but I said it with a big smile and even maybe another “It’s all good” and probably a shaka or two….

I got right back to work straight away. It was time to drop the hammer. I saw Katy at the EXACT same place I saw her first loop. That was funny, back to 16 minutes back, doh! I saw Michelle was now 12:30 up on me. I thought I lost about 8 minutes to the flat. Turns out looking at the Garmin it was 11 minutes almost exactly. I won’t be hired on any sort of tire changing pit crews any time soon!! Hahahah!

(PS Since then I have come up with about 10 things I should have done differently, but I’m sticking to the fact that I problem solved the best I could in the moment…lessons learned. AND, not a single ounce of frustration the whole time, thinking about this a few days later makes me weepy. Because positivity is not positivity unless it remains in a difficult situation)

I got back to the plan, smiles abounded, even the next time we went through town. Shakas and fist pumps, smiles, and grins. Back to my favorite section of the course. I really had fun those last 40 miles. I felt better at mile 80 than I ever have. Mile 90 I was like “It’s on”. Mile 100 I was cheering for everyone around me going up the last climb, telling them “This is it, let’s do this, pedal hard boys, be tough, be fearless.” Also in the last 20 miles I passed most of the guys in that original pack, they were all solo now, fighting it out on their own. I even gave them “Good Job”s. I know, cheering for drafters…I don’t even who know I am?

Back into town, out of my shoes, hand off the bike, goodbye Blackjack, and run into transition with a big fatty stupid grin all over my face. Bike Split of 5:44, and I’m darn proud of that one. It was a quick T2 for me. Socks, shoes, wrist band, watch band, new race belt with EFS liquid shot in it. Off I went. I hadn’t seen Troy the whole bike, and yet there he was at the exit of T2 cheering. I apparently looked like poo, but BOY was I happy, although the photos don’t do it justice. I yelled to him “I flatted” and he yelled “I know.” Nothing more to say there. Off I went, putting on my new PxRx hat (AKA HAPPY HAT) and getting situated and ready to run.

Posted in Cycling, Ironman, Quintana Roo, Race Report, Triathlon