Conquering Death Valley & Diabetes

Hello friends and family!

Much has happened since last we spoke. Though off to a rough start the year has transformed into something spectacular. I turned 30, I traveled to the northwest and fell in love with a little state called Idaho and most of all I trained like you couldn't imagine and made a dream of mine become a reality. I covered 140.6 miles consisting of a 2.4mi swim; 112mi bike and 26.2mi run in 16hrs 55min 9sec and became an IRONMAN!! As if that's not enough I had another HUGE goal this year. I wanted to conquer the desert as an Ironman and with YOUR help I will.

On Saturday October 15th I will take part in my 6th JDRF Ride to Cure Diabetes and ride 100 miles in Death Valley California. Death Valley is a place for extremes and is one of the hottest, driest and lowest points in North America with the lowest point being 282 feet below sea level and average temperatures being 115 degrees. Talk about extremes! However, that seems to be the thing I'm into these days, pushing myself physically and mentally to the edge all while managing diabetes. But WHY am I doing this? WHY do I ride for JDRF each year? Because I believe in them. The monies I raise each year will eventually lead to a cure, it funds more type 1 diabetes research than any other charity worldwide and it's making progress along many promising paths toward better treatments and a cure. That being said, the most tangible thing JDRF and The Ride to Cure program delivers is getting you involved within the diabetic community. It is an essential part of good management.

I've been living with type 1 for 16 years and until I became involved in JDRF Ride to Cure 6 years ago I didn't know what it meant to have friends with diabetes. Once you get involved you realize the diabetic community is huge and so supportive of one another because we are showing ourselves and the world that even though we have this disease that is with us 24 hours a day 7 days a week 365 days a year WE CAN. You can think of diabetes as an endurance sport. Some days are good. Some days just suck. But you put a smile on your face and keep plugging along, practice what works and change what doesn't. You keep moving forward. One pedal stroke at a time. That's what I'm doing. One scientific advancement at a time. That's what JDRF is doing.

My goal is to raise $4,000 before October 15th, all monies donated are tax deductible and anything you can send will help me in achieving my goal. I'm an endurance athlete, a lover of the sport and diabetes doesn't stop me; but we need to stop diabetes together. THANK YOU for helping not just me but EVERYONE affected by diabetes!!

You can make donations by clicking here.


All my love,
Jen

Taper Tales

I know many of you have done this before but I thought you'd get a nice laugh, lesson and smile out of my little taper tale. It is inspired by all my friends racing within the next two weeks at Timberman 70.3 and Ironman Canada. I will start off by simply saying:

I'm a newbie that's my defense! :)

And so the story goes...

I come off a great big 10 day training block before Ironman Lake Placid, about 3wks until race day. I have a recovery week followed by 2week taper, where my training starts to slow down and my legs start to feel super pressurized. I think you could have taken a pin and stuck them and I would have deflated. Swollen, heavy, pressurized legs. Did I mention I'm tired? "Oh lord why is this happening to me 2 weeks before my BIG day, the ONLY race on my calendar?!"

Mr. Paranoia and Mrs. Doubts start knocking on my door and of course I answer. I mean, how could I not right?

I continue to swim, bike and run but I feel like crap. I'm just going through the motions. My legs could explode at any moment.

Mr. Paranoia and Mrs. Doubts have a neighbor they wanted me to meet, her name? Why let me introduce to you Miss Panic (last name) Mode.

Miss Panic Mode and I made a few calls, sent a few emails, checked to make sure I had a pulse in my legs and then proceeded to go to the doctor to get blood work because, well, their HAD to be some chemical imbalance. Their HAD to be some reason as to why I was fine training the most I'd ever done and felt great each day to going the extreme opposite within a matter of days that felt like an eternity. Right? My friends who had much more experience than me said it was all part of the taper. Really? REALLY?!

After about 8 days of torture I went for my last hard run before race day (same day as blood work). Guess what? That run felt awesome. Hot as hell but awesome. Next morning I wake up and I thought maybe the pressurized cannonballs aka my legs were starting to feel a little better.

Off to work I go and I get a phone call from docs office telling me everything came back normal. Of course it did. Miss Panic mode had to leave, she had someone else to go visit. I email with my closest friend Mr. Google and he shared with me a taper article by famous World Champion Mark Allen after reading that article, I think I started to feel better.

Later that night I talk to my coach and express how Miss Panic mode came to visit but he explained everything to me and told me when I'd feel 100% better. Guess when? 2 days before the race. Yup you read that right. 2 days. Oh lord. I still had a week to go. Hanging up with my coach I felt 10x better. The weights on my shoulders were slowly being lifted.

But wait! There's a knock at the door. I'm not sure I want anymore visitors. It's Mr. Paranoia and Mrs. Doubts and of course I answer. I mean, how could I not right? They had a card and a gift for me, it was my reward for passing (though barely) the unwritten test. I had to wait until 2 days before the race to read the card but I could open the gift now (yippeee!) What they gave me was a blanket, one of those big comfy blankets it had all of my favorite colors; yellows, oranges, blues and greens. Kind of like a rainbow. As soon as I saw it I smiled. I wrapped it around me and it lifted my spirits I just KNEW everything would be ok. My race would be ok. I finally believed what everyone had been telling me. I was fine, it was just part of the taper.

The next day I still had my blanket wrapped around me but no one could see it. It reminded me of Harry Potters invisible cloak. I knew it was there. I could FEEL it. But no one else could. I named my blanket Magic. I know it sounds crazy right? MAGIC? Come on. I believed in magic. I knew everything would be great, not just for me but for my friends who were racing with me. I could FEEL it.

Two days before the race I opened the card (did you really think I'd forget?) it read:

The unwritten test is called the taper. Many will think the hardest part is answering to the physical ailments. While a major component in the taper, it is not the hardest part. The hardest part in the taper test cannot be held or touched. It is a feeling. It is learning to push past all the doubts that will surface, and the many fears that will start jumping out. It is believing and trusting in yourself. Your coach. Your training and all your hard work (well so long as you DID the work). You must rest (sleep/easier less stressful days) especially the week leading up to the race (I know you've heard it/read it a thousand times).  The taper teaches you how to adapt to stress both physically and mentally like that on race day. Successful completion of the taper results in the magic coming forth in whatever shape for each person. Successful taper means your chomping at the bit and feel fully rested come race day. It is your day. Reap the rewards and smile the entire way!!! Smiling makes all the pain go away and helps others around you.

Rest easy my friends, tapers almost over and the magic is all around!

What now?

Two weeks ago today I was racing my first Ironman in Lake Placid, but now that it's over what happens now? I've heard and read about "post Ironman blues" but I'm pretty sure I don't have it. I mean how could I possibly be "blue" when I'm still riding the high of my race? Yes, I am STILL wearing my athlete wristband despite my number rubbing off. However, the words IRONMAN still display prominently. I'll take it off today since I feel 2 weeks is long enough (well not really but...). Back to my original question, what happens now? What have I been doing in these last 2 weeks?

Remembering that day...and smiling...a lot :)
Watching movies
Eating lots of popcorn (with extra butter in the middle AND on top)
Staying up late
Sleeping late
Catching up with friends/family
Reflecting on what I did and how I can change things to improve for the next race
Planning for next years races
Thinking about my next IM and where I'll do it

The list can go on and on but I think the last half are what's helping me to not get the dreaded "Ironman blues". I've got other stuff to look forward to. To be quite honest I knew before I raced LP that I'd be doing another. I love going long and I love training. Two key ingredients in the Ironman recipe.

My coach told me he wouldn't give me a schedule for 2 weeks after the race. Normally he'll give his athletes a month off, they can do whatever they want. One week after Ironman I emailed him begging for a schedule. I felt like a drug addict begging for a fix. I had to wait another week. I swam one time in the last two weeks. That's it. I feel like a fat bastard. I need some structure in my life! Left to my own devices I WILL do nothing and the further away I get from training daily the harder it is to get back in the groove.

I have two events planned within the next two months then I'm done until next year.

1. September 25 my 1st trail race (10miles) in Mohonk Preserve.
2. October 15th my annual JDRF 100 mile charity ride in Death Valley CA (stay tuned for my donation letter/email/video). I'm SO excited for this event!!!! Taking part in these rides is SPECTACULAR!!

I'm looking forward to the next few months of learning how to trail run and also building on my bike base. Oh how I love to ride!

Happy training and reading folks!
Jen