What it's all about

Since I'm sort of off the radar right now while I heal, I came across this today from TriFuel

Fact: you will not become efficient at swimming, biking or running over night. Sorry to burst your bubble. This is NOT an easy sport.


Check your ego at the door because chances are someone fifty pounds heavier than you will lap you in the pool. Not to mention she will be ten or fifteen years older than you.

You will be passed on the bike many times and you will never be the fastest runner in your town.

You will have early morning workouts. Really early.

You will plan your weekends around your swim, bike and run.

You are up while others are sleeping.

You are training while others are sitting.

You will discover others who also follow this blood, sweat and tears cult.

You will eventually get a flat tire... and have to change it all by yourself.

No matter what you hear, triathlon is NOT an inexpensive sport.

Warning, it is extremely addictive, hence the impulse spending on wetsuits, bikes, running shoes, aero bars, aero helmets, speed suits, power meters, GPS heart-rate monitors and many other ‘gotta have items.’

You will hate swimming more times than you like it for the first year.

You will suffer through road trips with whiny fellow triathletes.

You will suffer set backs.

You may experience an injury.

You will develop a love/hate relationship with a foam roller and ice baths.

You will at some point realize you need a coach.

You will hate swimming for the first year.

You will wear tight clothing.

You will not like how this tight clothing fits or looks.

Your age will take on a whole new meaning.

You will discover a whole new meaning for tan lines.

Food will become an extremely important part of your life.

You will learn new words such as GU, cadence and brick.

You will hate swimming for the first year.

You will spend more time on your bike than on your couch.

You may lose a friend or two because you spend too much time swimming, biking and running, and they could careless about your heart rate training, foam rolling pain or 20 mile bike ride.

You will learn patience.

You will be humbled.

You will start to realize you are paying money to put yourself through pain and suffering, but for some odd reason, you LOVE it.

This sport called Triathlon, becomes a part of you. You start to plan your entire year around sprint, international, half-iron or full-iron distance races. Your vacations become racing, and you start to realize that this sport called triathlon could become a life-long adventure.

Many people settle for things in life. They settle for a crappy job, marriage, friends, food, place to live and overall fitness and health.

Those who desire more or those who want more out of life than a drive-thru window and boring sitcom, will choose triathlon or an activity that makes them happy. An activity that will change their life. Triathlon will change your outlook on life, your career, your marriage, your goals, your friends and many other things you thought you had figured out. It’s not just crossing a finish line or a boring finisher medal. It’s the countless hours that got you to that point. A moment in time that you will NEVER forget. A moment that you will discuss with your family and friends for hours if not days after the event. These discussions will most likely be about how you could have done better. At what point could you have swam faster, biked harder or ran more efficient? This is what will go through your head everyday until you get the opportunity to suffer again.

So you wanna be a Triathlete? Enjoy the ride and train hard!

Nick Clark, Clark Endurance Training

For now my triathlete training is done.  I head back to the gym on Monday with a plan.  Swimming, biking, elliptical, weights, physical therapy and core exercises.  Not as exciting as training for a 1/2 iron man, but not as tiring either!

August

August brings me happiness.

The kids go back to school.  Is that wrong?  To feel excited that they have to go back?  Over all summer went by really fast.  But the last two weeks or so I can tell the kids are ready.  Ready for something different.  They are getting bored.  There's only so much xbox to be played.  This week my oldest starts High School.  Hope he likes it more than I did!  Next week my other son starts 7th grade.  No longer the shortest in the school.  I'm sure there's got to be a few 6th graders that will be shorter!

August means that I get to go back to being Joelle during the hours of 7-2:45 Monday-Friday.  It means that I can get back on track.  Back to a schedule at the gym.  Back to buying less junk in the house.  Back to figuring out what the heck to do with that time.

I'm still healing.  I fear it's going to be awhile.  Just last night my leg was swollen.  All I did was some shopping and some extra cooking.  I was on my feet most of the day.  Just that irritated the leg.  I go back to the Dr's. on Wed.  Should be an interesting conversation.  I'm so done with being injured. 

So I have no training plans or goals right now.  This makes it hard for me to exercise on a regular basis.  Plus I can't run.  Swimming hurts.  One can only sit on a saddle for so long.  I am going to give the elliptical a try tomorrow.  See if that bothers the leg.  I feel myself getting heavier every day.  Losing fitness.  I feel like a blob.  I hope I don't look like one.

Well kids, it's been fun but get your butts back to school soon please.  Joelle is waiting. 

OK

Let me start with the bad news.......like I haven't had enough since I turned 40.

My race year is over.  I will not be doing the Chicago Tri, Chicago 1/2 marathon or the Chicago Marathon.

It was a given that the Marathon was out with a stress fracture and all.  I was hoping to hobble through the 1/2 and seeing that the Tri only had a 6 mile run I thought I would be able to do it even with the bad pain.

Then I lost my grandfather.

Everything changed. 

Preferably you are physically ready to race when you hit the start line.  For me I seem to be more injured than not.  But it's never stopped me.  What's more important is that you are mentally ready to train and race.  I am no where near mentally ready to think about training again.  The loss of my Grandfather took that focus right out of me.  Right now I just feel like if I get through the day and do what I need to get done, without crying for the umpteenth time then I'm doing good.  Each day is getting better.  I just need more time. 

I plan on hitting the gym on Monday to start up again.  I haven't worked out since July 17th.  I have gained 8 pounds.  Yup 8.  The clothes are getting tight.  I eat like I am training.  Last week I went to the fair and had Ice cream and funnel cake for dinner.  I've done a lot of emotional eating lately.  Whether it be because my leg throbs or my heart throbs I run to the carbs. 

So the good news?  I'm OK.  I'm OK with not racing anymore this year.  I'm OK with gaining some weight, just as long as I put an end to it soon.  I'm OK with grieving and losing it here and there.  I'm OK with waiting for this leg to heal correctly so that I can bang out some miles by late Oct.  I'm OK with just swimming and biking for awhile.  I'm OK knowing that my grandfather lived a long life.  Longer than most.  He was well taken care of and he just closed his eyes and died.  Heart just stopped.  It could of been much much worse. 

I'm going to be okay. 

Wish I Knew

I'm trying to keep things normal for the kids.

I find myself not sleeping the past few nights.

I go to bed crying. I wake up crying.

I knew this was coming. I just didn't expect it to be now. No one did.

Thursday I got to sit and talk with my grandfather. Friday morning after breakfast he was gone. Had I known I would of never left his side.

I have been very fortunate not to have had many deaths in my family. This is still new to me. The sadness, sorrow and feeling of great loss.

My grandfather and I had a very special bond. I was his best buddy. I was his only grandchild.

Tomorrow is the burial. It will be a first for my kids. How can you keep it normal? You can't. It will be one of the hardest days of my life.

Thank you

Thank you for being the first one to teach me how to steer a car at the ripe old age of 8.

Thank you for teaching me how to fish.

Thank you for putting the worm on the hook and taking the fish off.

Thank you for pointing out all the "scooters" (groundhogs) as they ran across the street.

Thank you for stopping and watching the mama bear cross the road with her babies.

Thank you for telling me to step right behind you as we tromped through the woods. I never did see a snake in all those years.

Thank you for telling everyone you saw even if you didn't know them that I was your granddaughter and your best buddy.

Thank you for understanding that I was not going hunting and I would not be shooting a gun.

Thank you for teaching me the importance of taking care of a car.

Thank you for explaining how to grow a garden and sharing the biggest tomatoes I have still ever seen.

Thank you for teaching me how to play poker.

Thank you for teaching me how to play marbles.

Thank you for playing "I won it, I two it" and always being the one who "8 it"

Thank you for watching me as I played at the park. Keeping a close eye on me.

Thank you for the giant Easter basket each year and explaining the difference between cheap chocolate and the good stuff.

Thank you for tucking me in every night and sneaking up the stairs hoping I wouldn't see you.

Thank you for being you. I will always cherish those memories. I miss you already.

Getting the Call

I walked into my Mom's house excited to spend the day at the fair. For some reason I was more excited than past years. Not sure why other than my kids were excited and my husband wasn't with us. He doesn't care to go. It was a day to add to the memories that I had as a child.

We walked in and she was on the phone. She looked a bit concerned but I didn't think much of it. She spent another 5 mins or so talking. Her voice starting to crack. You could hear the sadness in her voice from the other room. She finished by saying I'll be there in 20 mins.

I whispered to the kids, sounds like someone granny knows is sick or got hurt. I thought to myself must be important as I know she wouldn't change her fair plans unless necessary. Little did I know.

She walked down the hall and around the corner. Stood there and stared at me. "He's gone". I looked at her not understanding. Who's gone? After I said those words I realized what happened. "Pap?". She responded, Yes he died this morning.

I got up and hugged her as we cried.

Memories

So I sit here thinking about past memories and future memories that we will make while in PA.

We are on a mini getaway. Can't say it's going to be relaxing. Visiting my Mom is never relaxing. I'm always afraid of what I might do wrong, yes even at 40. Throw my kids into the equation and the anxiety is high. She's never been a kid person. I would know. I know she enjoys seeing us, just as long as she is not the one making the 10 hour trip. But I always feel that when I go she says, "Wow, that was a bit much. Good thing they don't come often". Now whether she truly feels this way I don't know. I sure hope not. But I still can't seem to shake the feeling.

Along with my Mom I get to see my Grandfather. Pap, as I call him. This man has meant the world to me. My most cherished memories as a child has been with him. I always felt loved, cared for and special. Both my grandmother and grandfather were wonderful to me. I only got to see them a few times a year but they were always the best weeks of my year. My grandmother has already passed away and soon my grandfather will too. He has been very sick the last few months. In and out of the hospital, too many times to count. He is 95, deaf, blind and in the midst of heart failure, demetia and pneumonia. He is no longer the Pap I remember. I lost that man many years ago. He's a mean old man who swears, yells, and hates everyone and everything. He can tear you down with just a sentence. He can get my blood boiling as I sit and listen to him tear my mother apart. Mind you she has been the one taking care of him for years, yet to him she is nothing but a pain in the ass and someone who wants to steal his money. I don't like this man.

I haven't seen him for a year. My kids two years. I went too long. Shame on me for not making a better effort to go in the spring. Now we are near the end of his life and I will get to spend a bit of time with him the next few days. What memories will I take from this. I'm afraid they won't be good. I worry what the kids will think. Hard for them to believe that who they see now is not my grandfather. If it was, my kids would not even spend a minute with him. I hope he will be kind with them. We'll see.

Memories. The good and the bad. They make us who we are.