Here is a great story on one of our Train-This Ironman Athletes, Mary Beth!
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
Amy Moritz: Buffalo marathon
There were four points on Sunday when I cried.
Well, let me start with a disclaimer -- I can cry easily. It's my natural reaction to strong emotion. I can cry when I'm happy, when I'm frustrated or when I'm so angry I really would like to punch you but instead turn on the water works. Some people aren't comfortable with that. And right now I say too bad.
Because the first marathon brings a lot of tears for a lot of reasons.
The first time I had some tears was in the Hyatt at last-chance registration. My friend Sue was volunteering there and gave me a ride over early. So I brought my iPod, found a corner and listened to my tunes because I didn't want to get caught up in anybody else's drama. I would have enough of my own, thank you.
And then I wondered: What would happen if I didn't finish in 4:30? That's what I told my family and friends was my goal (along with all of cyberspace but that wasn't my concern at the moment). Would I disappoint them? Would they tell me good job but cast knowing glances off to the side and slowly stop returning my phone calls?
As ridiculous as it sounds, this started to whirl through my head and some tears started. Sue gave me a hug, said time was just for our amusement and I went off to the start line. Amid the crowd I ran into a few people I know and started to feel better. My attention turned to just wanting to get the race started and by the time the gun went off, I had collected myself.
The second time I started to cry didn't come until mile 21. The weather was starting to get to me. While it was a beautiful day, the humidity was picking up and the sun came out and, after I've been running for three hours, the sun wasn't such a welcomed sight. I took my shot blocks and water at every aid station, still I was feeling dehydrated. At mile 13 my quads started to hurt. At mile 19 my calf muscles were cramping up.
Around 21.5 miles my friend and former co-worker Sharon set up an unofficial water stop outside her house. I got a great big cheer from her, some needed water, a calf stretch and a pep talk. I was in some pain and knew my 4:30 goal was gone. Sharon reminded me that I was close to the end, that once I hit Delaware and North it was all down hill. As a veteran marathoner, she told me the weather conditions were difficult and that I was doing fine. And who cares what anyone things about my time? It's all about my accomplishment, not anyone else's judgment of it.
And it was at her water stop that I tossed away the piece of paper I had been carrying with me the entire race.
At the suggestion of my coach I carried along a copy of a photo of myself in college -- back when I was very overweight and unhealthy. While on the surface it represented how far I've come in my fitness goals and my identity as an athlete, there were other symbolic meanings wrapped up in that piece of paper. It represented all those fears I listed in the weeks before the marathon. It was all those feelings of not being good enough, of thinking that what I had to offer fell woefully short.
But at 21.5 miles, truly, that no longer seemed to matter. The voice of the diminisher was still in my head, pointing out that people may not like me anymore without that 4:30 time, but I told him to be quiet (well, at this point I was using rather foul language to tell him to be quiet, but you get the idea). I tossed out that piece of paper because that was no longer me. Yes, I will have the diminisher with me always, but his power of me, not so much.
Because I was going to be a marathoner.
And I got tears in my eyes.
The third time I cried was at mile 25.
It was the final aid station and I walked through to take a mixture of water and gatorade. This was it. Only 1.2 miles left to go.
I was sore. I was hungry. I was bleeding through my sneakers.
But after having to run-walk portions of the second half of the course, I was not going walk the final 1.2 miles. It didn't matter how slow I was running. Didn't matter if for all practical purposes I could walk faster than I could run. I was running the final 1.2 miles.
I took it all in and tried to keep from crying. At Niagara Square my friend Karyn, who ran an awesome half marathon, found me and ran me around the circle.
"I'm trying to keep from crying," I told her.
"Hold off until the finish," Karyn said. "There it is. Take it all in. Enjoy it. It's all yours."
And that brought me to the final place I cried.
At the finish line.
I smiled during that last run down Franklin Street and while it clearly wasn't a sprint, it was what felt like to me a strong run across the timing mats. I picked up my medal from a volunteer and, frankly, had no idea what to do.
And the tears started.
I heard my dad yelling my name and turned around. I have no idea how he got in the finisher's shoot, but there he was. As I gave him a big hug I started crying.
Then came my mom, with a huge smile, a huge hug and more tears.
I don't think I really stopped crying for the next two hours or so -- with generous amounts of joy.
My final time was 5 hours and 2 minutes.
Which only means I have a goal now for next time (which there probably will be) and lots of lessons learned along the way.
But right now, time and pace are questions left only to voices that I no longer care to hear.
Marathoner is a title that can't be taken away.
Nor is it something that ever should be qualified.
And that's perhaps the biggest lesson I learned through this part of my journey ... that there are no more "yeah, butts" in life. No, "yeah I finished the marathon but I had to walk in the second half." No "yeah, I ran 26.2 miles but other people do ultra races of 50 and 100 miles."
No more qualifying accomplishments or success or finishes.
There is no living up to being good enough.
Good enough is what we already are.
Well, let me start with a disclaimer -- I can cry easily. It's my natural reaction to strong emotion. I can cry when I'm happy, when I'm frustrated or when I'm so angry I really would like to punch you but instead turn on the water works. Some people aren't comfortable with that. And right now I say too bad.
Because the first marathon brings a lot of tears for a lot of reasons.
The first time I had some tears was in the Hyatt at last-chance registration. My friend Sue was volunteering there and gave me a ride over early. So I brought my iPod, found a corner and listened to my tunes because I didn't want to get caught up in anybody else's drama. I would have enough of my own, thank you.
And then I wondered: What would happen if I didn't finish in 4:30? That's what I told my family and friends was my goal (along with all of cyberspace but that wasn't my concern at the moment). Would I disappoint them? Would they tell me good job but cast knowing glances off to the side and slowly stop returning my phone calls?
As ridiculous as it sounds, this started to whirl through my head and some tears started. Sue gave me a hug, said time was just for our amusement and I went off to the start line. Amid the crowd I ran into a few people I know and started to feel better. My attention turned to just wanting to get the race started and by the time the gun went off, I had collected myself.
The second time I started to cry didn't come until mile 21. The weather was starting to get to me. While it was a beautiful day, the humidity was picking up and the sun came out and, after I've been running for three hours, the sun wasn't such a welcomed sight. I took my shot blocks and water at every aid station, still I was feeling dehydrated. At mile 13 my quads started to hurt. At mile 19 my calf muscles were cramping up.
Around 21.5 miles my friend and former co-worker Sharon set up an unofficial water stop outside her house. I got a great big cheer from her, some needed water, a calf stretch and a pep talk. I was in some pain and knew my 4:30 goal was gone. Sharon reminded me that I was close to the end, that once I hit Delaware and North it was all down hill. As a veteran marathoner, she told me the weather conditions were difficult and that I was doing fine. And who cares what anyone things about my time? It's all about my accomplishment, not anyone else's judgment of it.
And it was at her water stop that I tossed away the piece of paper I had been carrying with me the entire race.
At the suggestion of my coach I carried along a copy of a photo of myself in college -- back when I was very overweight and unhealthy. While on the surface it represented how far I've come in my fitness goals and my identity as an athlete, there were other symbolic meanings wrapped up in that piece of paper. It represented all those fears I listed in the weeks before the marathon. It was all those feelings of not being good enough, of thinking that what I had to offer fell woefully short.
But at 21.5 miles, truly, that no longer seemed to matter. The voice of the diminisher was still in my head, pointing out that people may not like me anymore without that 4:30 time, but I told him to be quiet (well, at this point I was using rather foul language to tell him to be quiet, but you get the idea). I tossed out that piece of paper because that was no longer me. Yes, I will have the diminisher with me always, but his power of me, not so much.
Because I was going to be a marathoner.
And I got tears in my eyes.
The third time I cried was at mile 25.
It was the final aid station and I walked through to take a mixture of water and gatorade. This was it. Only 1.2 miles left to go.
I was sore. I was hungry. I was bleeding through my sneakers.
But after having to run-walk portions of the second half of the course, I was not going walk the final 1.2 miles. It didn't matter how slow I was running. Didn't matter if for all practical purposes I could walk faster than I could run. I was running the final 1.2 miles.
I took it all in and tried to keep from crying. At Niagara Square my friend Karyn, who ran an awesome half marathon, found me and ran me around the circle.
"I'm trying to keep from crying," I told her.
"Hold off until the finish," Karyn said. "There it is. Take it all in. Enjoy it. It's all yours."
And that brought me to the final place I cried.
At the finish line.
I smiled during that last run down Franklin Street and while it clearly wasn't a sprint, it was what felt like to me a strong run across the timing mats. I picked up my medal from a volunteer and, frankly, had no idea what to do.
And the tears started.
I heard my dad yelling my name and turned around. I have no idea how he got in the finisher's shoot, but there he was. As I gave him a big hug I started crying.
Then came my mom, with a huge smile, a huge hug and more tears.
I don't think I really stopped crying for the next two hours or so -- with generous amounts of joy.
My final time was 5 hours and 2 minutes.
Which only means I have a goal now for next time (which there probably will be) and lots of lessons learned along the way.
But right now, time and pace are questions left only to voices that I no longer care to hear.
Marathoner is a title that can't be taken away.
Nor is it something that ever should be qualified.
And that's perhaps the biggest lesson I learned through this part of my journey ... that there are no more "yeah, butts" in life. No, "yeah I finished the marathon but I had to walk in the second half." No "yeah, I ran 26.2 miles but other people do ultra races of 50 and 100 miles."
No more qualifying accomplishments or success or finishes.
There is no living up to being good enough.
Good enough is what we already are.
Sarah's Ironman Florida 70.3 Race Report
I've had my evening of reflection and I am waking up this morning with a lighter head. First off, I am proud of myself yesterday. Do I think it was the best I could have done? No. Was it the best I could have done yesterday. Yes. I know that swimming is not my strong suit. But almost 40 minutes, wet suit or not, does not reflect my gains in the pool over the past three years.The bike was ridden from my heart, trusting that I was not overkilling my legs and knowing that I wanted to make a statement of past workouts. The computer zapping out may have been the best thing all day. Why? Because I was forced to trust myself yet again. And I am proving time and time again to myself, that no matter what obstacles present themselves, I can deal with it, right then and there. I am so proud of myself for this. I stayed consistent and that was my main goal, computer or not.
The run exploded in my face. This morning I am ok with this. I know the fire that I have in my heart when it comes to putting on my kicks and racing towards the sun. I know the desire I have in my eyes when I see a Pro Women in front of me, telling me to hang on because she sees I am a strong runner. Yesterdays run was an opportunity for me to re-evaluate today. And I am thankful for this. Looking back, I had goosebumps on my body at least three times during that run. And I know that this means if I had pushed any harder, I may have ended in a tent rather than the finishline. So, I know I fueled well prior to the race. I really WAS spot on. I think Kim was beginning to think I was the over anal psycho triathlete. Taking salt tablets two days before the race, hydrating, applying sunblock every hour to keep the skin nice and white. The errrors in my mind were made by skipping that last aid station on the bike and possibly not enough calories. The heat most certainly got to me, especially when I began to get goosebumps. For the entire 2:45 time on the bike, I had 3 GU's (1/hr and ate every 15 minutes). I drank 1 and a half to three guarters of GE (I think thats 75 calories and hour). I had 4 salt tablets an hour (15 minute increments).
The run was a mistake. I stopped taking salt at one point but ate bananas, coke, GE and water at aid stations, switching on and off with Coke and GE. I had four shot bloks and when I felt like one was coming back up, I stuffed them in my jersey and stopped eating them. Truth is, the nutrition leading off of the bike into the run and throughout summed up with the heat concluded with that feeling of being drained and just not able to keep that DRUNKENESS out of my head. I gained a lot from yesterdays race. My focus for the day was to "Go back to the basics." It was written on my hand and I believe I found new bits and pieces of the basic puzzle that are easily forgotten. The most important, love for what I do and even more appreciation for my desire, dedication and the ability to pleasantly surprise myself along the way. I'm learning Mary. Through you and your amazing accomplishments. Through the relationship that I have found with myself, one that most people can not attest to.
The run exploded in my face. This morning I am ok with this. I know the fire that I have in my heart when it comes to putting on my kicks and racing towards the sun. I know the desire I have in my eyes when I see a Pro Women in front of me, telling me to hang on because she sees I am a strong runner. Yesterdays run was an opportunity for me to re-evaluate today. And I am thankful for this. Looking back, I had goosebumps on my body at least three times during that run. And I know that this means if I had pushed any harder, I may have ended in a tent rather than the finishline. So, I know I fueled well prior to the race. I really WAS spot on. I think Kim was beginning to think I was the over anal psycho triathlete. Taking salt tablets two days before the race, hydrating, applying sunblock every hour to keep the skin nice and white. The errrors in my mind were made by skipping that last aid station on the bike and possibly not enough calories. The heat most certainly got to me, especially when I began to get goosebumps. For the entire 2:45 time on the bike, I had 3 GU's (1/hr and ate every 15 minutes). I drank 1 and a half to three guarters of GE (I think thats 75 calories and hour). I had 4 salt tablets an hour (15 minute increments).
The run was a mistake. I stopped taking salt at one point but ate bananas, coke, GE and water at aid stations, switching on and off with Coke and GE. I had four shot bloks and when I felt like one was coming back up, I stuffed them in my jersey and stopped eating them. Truth is, the nutrition leading off of the bike into the run and throughout summed up with the heat concluded with that feeling of being drained and just not able to keep that DRUNKENESS out of my head. I gained a lot from yesterdays race. My focus for the day was to "Go back to the basics." It was written on my hand and I believe I found new bits and pieces of the basic puzzle that are easily forgotten. The most important, love for what I do and even more appreciation for my desire, dedication and the ability to pleasantly surprise myself along the way. I'm learning Mary. Through you and your amazing accomplishments. Through the relationship that I have found with myself, one that most people can not attest to.
Kim's Ironman Florida 70.3 Race Report
Boom Boom Now
This race made me extremely anxious for a couple of reasons. First of all, I have had no performance indicators of my hard work through the winter. In fact, I have never trained like I have until this winter. I could feel that I was ready, but I was still unsure. I was ready to test my training. Secondly, the humidity in Florida is creeping in for the summer. It is very hard to get acclimated to +90 degree weather in Rochester, NY! Lastly, I have only been running for a month due to a stint of Plantar Fasciitis from the Disney Marathon in January.
Pre-Race: Travelling with Sarah, I felt like I had my mom with me. Only I was the one driving the mini-van! She answered all my crazy questions. One answer stuck in my mind. I asked her how she kept her strong once she started to hurt; I have always struggled with this aspect. The reply I got was, "You have no choice (she said this very confident), and you have done the training, trust yourself, I feel very fortunate to have the opportunity's to do what I do, not everyone gets these chances......". It was her confidence that stuck in my mind. Race morning I was very calm, trying not to think about what this day could develop into. I was only concentrating on my positive mental attitude. This race was going to be more mental for me.
My plan was to swim steady, bike strong, and run the ENTIRE ½ marathon, no excuses
Swim (36:21; 1:54 100m; 11thAG): This would be my first beach start triathlon, as well as, my first open water swim of the season. For some reason, I was extremely nervous for the swim. As a strong swimmer, I should feel comfortable in the water.....that was not the case. About ¼ into the swim, my heart rate was sky high and I had thoughts of swimming backstroke the rest of the way, in fact, a man that I was passing (from the wave ahead of me), was swimming backstroke (probably where I got the idea).
After I figured out that was a bad idea, I continued to swim and swim and swim. It felt like forever. There were people from at least three waves ahead of us floating in the water. I got out of the water I immediately looked at my watch, 36:xx. I had no idea what had happened. The first thought that had crossed my mind was; I wondered what Mary and my family at home is going to think with this time. I couldn't dwell on such a bad time; it was only 36 minutes of my day. Looking back at the results the swim, the times were about 3 minutes slow, which still puts me not where I want to be....I need some open water practice. I am too comfortable looking at the black line at the bottom on the pool.
T1 (3:33): The run to transition was extremely long. It seemed like everyone was stopping to shake hands and kiss some babies. It was very congested. After you exit transition, you had to run (with your bike) a long way, to the mounting line.
Bike (2:45:21; 20.32mph; 17thAG): Once on my bike, I knew I was at home. The bike was pretty uneventful, except for several pelotons passing me. I made sure I kept my heart rate in zone 2 the entire time. I had the voices in my head saying "you can't pound the pedals....don't forget about that ½ marathon you have to run". Whenever I found my mind wondering I started to sing the Black Eyed Peas song.....Boom Boom Now. During the winter, this is a song that has been over played on the radio; therefore I listened to it numerous times on the trainer. And now it was being over played in my head. I was able to suck down almost 1.5 bottles (525 calories) of my Accelerade/ CarboPro cocktail in 1:45. At this time I knew I only had one hour left on the bike, I needed to stop with so much liquid and move onto some Gu. I would also take one salt pill every 15 minutes
T2 (1:42): Again, we had to dismount our bikes and run an extremely long way to the transition area. I racked my bike, sprayed myself with sunscreen, picked up my hat, gamin, and nutrition and I was OFF!
Run (2:15:43; 10:21/mile; 21stAG): The run course was 3 loops, approximately 1st mile on pavement, 2nd & 3rd mile on grass, and 4th mile on pavement. My legs felt as fresh as can be off the bike. In fact, it only took me a couple of steps to get my land legs back. The first 2 miles clicked by extremely fast, averaging 9:15's, in fact I was seeing lot of 8:xx on the Garmin. At the second aid station, I knew I would have to walk the aid stations and slow down my pace. There was too much to do, salt, water, ice, sponge, coke. I would not allow myself to walk until I got to the first person, then did my thing, and started to run immediately! I have found myself in the past wasting A LOT of time at the aid stations (you could eat entire meal of cookies and potato chips!). I was not falling into that trap. About mile 3, Sarah pasted me looking extremely strong.
During the second loop, once I got onto the grass, I had a few low moments, it was hot, humid and no wind. The thoughts of, how in the hell am I going to run a marathon.....maybe this Ironman thing isn't cut out for me, starting to creep in my head. At that point, the Black Eyed Peas came and saved the day. Yes the song was still playing in my head and pushed the negative thoughts out (I knew this was going to be a BIG mental day for me, and I was going to win. I needed to be confident in myself, just as Sarah was when I ask her how she is able to hold strong). The third loop, my favorite, I knew I was on the home stretch. I knew I would be real close to the 5:40 range (I couldn't believe it J). My planned that I negotiated with myself was to, pick up the pace on the pavement, then settle back into my normal Ironman pace on the grass, then the last 1.2 mile on pavement leave it all out there. And my plan worked! I started passing girls in my age group. I don't think I have ever past someone, especially people that started in the same wave as me, at the end of a race. I am normally the one being past! I focused on increasing my turn over and kept moving forward, as well as the Black Eyed Peas where pulling me along! I don't remember exactly what I did nutrition wise on the run. I know I took salt almost every other mile, maybe more and took a Gu at least every 30 minutes. Also, drank coke from mile 3 and on. Whatever that equates to, it worked. Running towards the finish line, I saw Sarah with a huge smile on her face. The thoughts of such a big PR after a long cold winter of a running injury, I had the exact same smile!
Summary (5:42:40; 21st AG out of 79): I needed a race like this. There were so many un-answered questions whether or not my training has been working, what kind of nutrition will bring me through Lake Placid and how will I feel. All these questions have been answered. I will be changing a few things nutrition wise, I haven't figured out the details, but I have 3 more days until I will test that when I ride the Ironman course (twice, over Memorial Day Weekend)! This has proved that I trust my hard work in bringing me to that starting line for Lake Placid fully prepared!
This race made me extremely anxious for a couple of reasons. First of all, I have had no performance indicators of my hard work through the winter. In fact, I have never trained like I have until this winter. I could feel that I was ready, but I was still unsure. I was ready to test my training. Secondly, the humidity in Florida is creeping in for the summer. It is very hard to get acclimated to +90 degree weather in Rochester, NY! Lastly, I have only been running for a month due to a stint of Plantar Fasciitis from the Disney Marathon in January.
Pre-Race: Travelling with Sarah, I felt like I had my mom with me. Only I was the one driving the mini-van! She answered all my crazy questions. One answer stuck in my mind. I asked her how she kept her strong once she started to hurt; I have always struggled with this aspect. The reply I got was, "You have no choice (she said this very confident), and you have done the training, trust yourself, I feel very fortunate to have the opportunity's to do what I do, not everyone gets these chances......". It was her confidence that stuck in my mind. Race morning I was very calm, trying not to think about what this day could develop into. I was only concentrating on my positive mental attitude. This race was going to be more mental for me.
My plan was to swim steady, bike strong, and run the ENTIRE ½ marathon, no excuses
Swim (36:21; 1:54 100m; 11thAG): This would be my first beach start triathlon, as well as, my first open water swim of the season. For some reason, I was extremely nervous for the swim. As a strong swimmer, I should feel comfortable in the water.....that was not the case. About ¼ into the swim, my heart rate was sky high and I had thoughts of swimming backstroke the rest of the way, in fact, a man that I was passing (from the wave ahead of me), was swimming backstroke (probably where I got the idea).
After I figured out that was a bad idea, I continued to swim and swim and swim. It felt like forever. There were people from at least three waves ahead of us floating in the water. I got out of the water I immediately looked at my watch, 36:xx. I had no idea what had happened. The first thought that had crossed my mind was; I wondered what Mary and my family at home is going to think with this time. I couldn't dwell on such a bad time; it was only 36 minutes of my day. Looking back at the results the swim, the times were about 3 minutes slow, which still puts me not where I want to be....I need some open water practice. I am too comfortable looking at the black line at the bottom on the pool.
T1 (3:33): The run to transition was extremely long. It seemed like everyone was stopping to shake hands and kiss some babies. It was very congested. After you exit transition, you had to run (with your bike) a long way, to the mounting line.
Bike (2:45:21; 20.32mph; 17thAG): Once on my bike, I knew I was at home. The bike was pretty uneventful, except for several pelotons passing me. I made sure I kept my heart rate in zone 2 the entire time. I had the voices in my head saying "you can't pound the pedals....don't forget about that ½ marathon you have to run". Whenever I found my mind wondering I started to sing the Black Eyed Peas song.....Boom Boom Now. During the winter, this is a song that has been over played on the radio; therefore I listened to it numerous times on the trainer. And now it was being over played in my head. I was able to suck down almost 1.5 bottles (525 calories) of my Accelerade/ CarboPro cocktail in 1:45. At this time I knew I only had one hour left on the bike, I needed to stop with so much liquid and move onto some Gu. I would also take one salt pill every 15 minutes
T2 (1:42): Again, we had to dismount our bikes and run an extremely long way to the transition area. I racked my bike, sprayed myself with sunscreen, picked up my hat, gamin, and nutrition and I was OFF!
Run (2:15:43; 10:21/mile; 21stAG): The run course was 3 loops, approximately 1st mile on pavement, 2nd & 3rd mile on grass, and 4th mile on pavement. My legs felt as fresh as can be off the bike. In fact, it only took me a couple of steps to get my land legs back. The first 2 miles clicked by extremely fast, averaging 9:15's, in fact I was seeing lot of 8:xx on the Garmin. At the second aid station, I knew I would have to walk the aid stations and slow down my pace. There was too much to do, salt, water, ice, sponge, coke. I would not allow myself to walk until I got to the first person, then did my thing, and started to run immediately! I have found myself in the past wasting A LOT of time at the aid stations (you could eat entire meal of cookies and potato chips!). I was not falling into that trap. About mile 3, Sarah pasted me looking extremely strong.
During the second loop, once I got onto the grass, I had a few low moments, it was hot, humid and no wind. The thoughts of, how in the hell am I going to run a marathon.....maybe this Ironman thing isn't cut out for me, starting to creep in my head. At that point, the Black Eyed Peas came and saved the day. Yes the song was still playing in my head and pushed the negative thoughts out (I knew this was going to be a BIG mental day for me, and I was going to win. I needed to be confident in myself, just as Sarah was when I ask her how she is able to hold strong). The third loop, my favorite, I knew I was on the home stretch. I knew I would be real close to the 5:40 range (I couldn't believe it J). My planned that I negotiated with myself was to, pick up the pace on the pavement, then settle back into my normal Ironman pace on the grass, then the last 1.2 mile on pavement leave it all out there. And my plan worked! I started passing girls in my age group. I don't think I have ever past someone, especially people that started in the same wave as me, at the end of a race. I am normally the one being past! I focused on increasing my turn over and kept moving forward, as well as the Black Eyed Peas where pulling me along! I don't remember exactly what I did nutrition wise on the run. I know I took salt almost every other mile, maybe more and took a Gu at least every 30 minutes. Also, drank coke from mile 3 and on. Whatever that equates to, it worked. Running towards the finish line, I saw Sarah with a huge smile on her face. The thoughts of such a big PR after a long cold winter of a running injury, I had the exact same smile!
Summary (5:42:40; 21st AG out of 79): I needed a race like this. There were so many un-answered questions whether or not my training has been working, what kind of nutrition will bring me through Lake Placid and how will I feel. All these questions have been answered. I will be changing a few things nutrition wise, I haven't figured out the details, but I have 3 more days until I will test that when I ride the Ironman course (twice, over Memorial Day Weekend)! This has proved that I trust my hard work in bringing me to that starting line for Lake Placid fully prepared!
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