Are you talking to ME?

I think the Universe has been trying to tell me something. For a while now. It started as a bit of a whisper. Some time in late summer I discovered podcasts. I know. I’m a bit of a late adopter. Whatever. I’m not sure how I got turned on to the Running on Om podcasts but somehow I found my way there, working my way backwards through episodes. Early in that discovery, I listened to one of the regular recurring episodes: Ask Lauren Fleshman. And I’m not gonna lie, it was the birth of a girl crush. I then became selective in my walk backwards through ROO podcasts, listening in reverse order to all of the Ask Lauren Fleshman episodes. And I thought I heard the Universe whisper: you should start writing again Karin.

Did I? No. Of course not.

I had a bunch of conversations with myself about why I’d stopped. Why I hadn’t resumed. And it really didn’t have anything to do with not having things to say. I’ve written many, many blog posts (in my head). No, I wasn’t writing for deeper, more uncomfortable reasons. Reasons with louder voices than those whispers from the Universe.

Here’s the ugly truth of it:

1. I'm embarrassed.
2. I feel like a fraud.

Yup, it’s not writer’s block or a fear that people won’t like my writing - or even that no one will read it. It’s about those two feelings in the context of this blog about …about what? Weight loss? Fitness? Health? Transformation?  Let me attempt to explain.

What am I embarrassed about? Well having lost the significant amount of weight that I have, I feel – at least to some extent - like that has defined me. Who I am. The most important thing about me. I’m Karin, who lost 120 lbs. Karin, who used to weigh 255 lbs. Sometimes I’m OK with that and I contribute to using that as my label - as my defining characteristic. When you sign up for an Ironman race, there’s a box where you’re supposed to say something about yourself. “I’ve lost 120 lbs” is what I usually type. And you know what? The crowd freaking LOVES that at an Ironman finish line. And I love the finish line rah-rah. 

But sometimes I feel burdened under the weight of who I used to be. I was at a party a friend threw 

Worst Photo Ever Taken. Ever. Like, ever.

where I knew very few people. I knew with certainty when my host was having a conversation with someone across the room, nodding in my direction, that it was about my weight loss. Do you remember the Bridget Jones movie, where she introduces people with an interesting tidbit about them? "This is so & so, he’s a top lawyer in his field." And "This is so & so, they climbed Mount Everest!" "This is Karin, who lost 120 lbs." Like it is the single most interesting or notable thing about me. Maybe it is. But so often, when that’s the first thing people know, I feel like I’m that woman again. That that is how people are seeing me. As that 255 lb woman. That woman whose skin I still inhabit. And I’m just so embarrassed. Embarrassed to have ever let my weight get to that stage in the first place. I mean, who does that? And if YOU did that, I don’t judge you. But I do judge me. Does that make sense? It doesn’t have to. It just is.

So that brings me to the fraud thing. That’s multifaceted. One aspect: well that 255 lb woman? I’m still wearing her skin. And so you know what… no matter how hard I train, or how little I eat, or how clean my diet is, I am never, ever going to have a great body. I will never be comfortable in a bikini on a beach. I will never achieve that mental picture I had of what I was working towards. I will always have a muffin top. Gaining that much weight leaves a mark; a friend once asked me if I had loose skin and said she wondered what the point was in trying to lose the weight, since she’d just have loose skin. [Sigh] I understand. But do I regret the weight loss? No. I regret the weight gain. Big difference.

And so if I’m trying to think a little less shallow - and point out that there is more to life than having a great body, and that this new life – all this training and racing – that’s where it’s at. That there’s value and meaning and reward in all of that, that is so much better than the number on the scale or the size of your jeans… Well, yeah! Woohooo.... Get on board! 

But here’s the thing: Yes, I’m still training, Yes, I’m still racing. But... each Ironman is slower than the last. And I don’t understand that. And if I’m not waxing poetic here about racing and challenging myself, and getting better (because I’m not getting better), then I come back to all this eating well and exercising stuff as the means to an end: how big (or small) I am, and how I look and damn if I am not STILL battling my weight. Yup. Currently about 10 lbs heavier than my typical off-season weight. Maybe more. This never-ending f&*ing merry-go-round. How can I write this blog when I’m only 110 lbs lighter than I used to be? When I’m racing slower? When I don’t have that triathlete/fit chick/super awesome body of my dreams?

But the Universe kept whispering. Often through the podcast Tea with a Titan, where host Mary-Jo Dionne interviews people who are masters of transformation, inspiration, authenticity, and bravery. I listened to her interview her husband, ultraman athlete and friend Chad Bentley, who spoke of his own physical transformation. I didn’t hear embarrassment about where he had come from – and what’s more, I didn’t see any reason why he should be – but I was encouraged and inspired by the possibility that his transformation demonstrated.

I listened to the interview with Danielle Krysa, the Jealous Curator. Who talked about her passion for art and her need to be in that space (I’m paraphrasing) and who she began writing, and continued writing, even when no one was reading. And this time when the Universe whispered to write, I had an a-ha moment about the need to write being about the need to write. Not necessarily to be read. But if you’re reading, I’m glad you’re here!

I listened to the interview with Susanne Biro and her admission that she’s afraid in almost everything she does… I’m totally paraphrasing. I should have written down the quote because she made the comment while discussing a face to face conversation with Richard Branson, and being brave enough to ask a question, and I was stunned. I thought it was just me who felt that way! How she said it was perfect. How I said it is not. If I wasn’t on a self-imposed deadline to get this posted today, I’d go replay the podcast. Instead, I’ll suggest you just go listen to it yourself. It’s worth your time.

Then Oprah whispered to me. Kind of. I saw a commercial for Weight Watchers and could not believe she’s their new spokesperson. I mean really. She is arguably the most successful woman in the world. And she’s still battling her weight. This woman who could pay someone to slap the food out of her hand! I’m in good company I guess. Weight struggles: the great equalizer.

And then – since I still wasn’t writing – the Universe got a bit more direct. Out of the blue this past Thursday, in the middle of a workout, my trainer Scott asked me if I was still blogging. And he said I should be. That I had a voice. And things to share that could help people on their journey.

So I’m back. My 2017 goal: one post a week.

If you’re still here: thanks for reading.

And thank you to the ladies who let the Universe whisper through them: Julia Hanlon, Lauren Fleshman, Mary-Jo Dionne, Danielle Krysa, Susanne Biro, and Oprah!

And thank you Scott for the nudge of encouragement. And for your commitment to getting me #laf. Seriously, make it happen bro.

Race Reports: Challenge Penticton Festival Events

So hey, about that Ironman… Yeah, I did it. And there will be a race report. But not today. As I write this, I’m up in Penticton, on the eve of Challenge Penticton. Yeah, like the very same race that was my first iron distance race last year. Only I’m not racing it this year. The Hub is. It’s his first real triathlon and he’s doing the Half distance. I’ve been winging it as his coach and this weekend I’m faking it as a deferential, supportive type instead of my usual high maintenance diva self. I’m very good at the latter. The other? Well…

Anyway. So I’m not racing the Challenge this year. I’ve actually taken August “off” – which was supposed to mean taking a break from structured training and just doing what I wanted. That’s not quite how it’s worked out …but more on that in another post. Since the month has been low key, and I’m feeling left out not being able to race with the rest of the free world my triathlete friends, I decided to make the most of having to sit out, and take advantage of some of the Festival events that I wouldn’t ordinarily get to do. Like a 5K fun run and the Ogopogo Swim Race. I know. Swimming.

Thursday, we rolled into smoky Penticton a couple of hours before the Feed the Valley 5K Fun Run. Time to unload the van, change, and then stroll down to The Peach. We watched the kiddies 1K fun run, while trying to figure out who’s-who among the pros handing out medals.

Even though it was a “fun run”, no bibs, no timing chips, and I wasn’t looking for anything particular from this race… it was +30 degrees, smoky, I’d been sitting in a car for 5 hours, and this was my month off… I was still nervously sizing up the “competition” and worrying with this small field, it was not out of the realm of possibility that I would be last. The route was a two loop out & back along Lakeshore, running right past our hotel 4 times. I told my family that if I was last, I was ducking into our hotel on the way back from the second loop. Screw the finish line.

And then we were off. As I approached the first turnaround, Jeff Symonds was making his way back, leading a pack of speedy peeps, all of them looking comfortable. There weren’t a ton of people ahead of me, and once I made the turn and was on my way back, I saw that there were plenty behind me. Good. I’d gone out a little too fast, and my pace was slowing a bit, it was hot and I felt the smoky air stinging the back of my throat. At the turn to start the second loop, I stopped to grab water – something I wouldn’t ordinarily do in a 5K - walking a few seconds to gulp it down, and then off for loop number 2.

This time, well before I reached the turnaround on the 2^nd loop, Jeff Symonds was running by. All by himself now, and running effortlessly with none of his trademark Ugly, he offered some words of encouragement as he ran by.

My 5K PB is 25:11. Set January of this year at the Athletes in Kind New Year’s Day Generation Run. I didn’t expect to beat it, and told my family as much as we were walking to the start. My daughter asked how long it would take me… My PB is 25:11. I won’t beat that but it’ll be something under 30 minutes. She was surprised – and impressed – that I could run 5K in under 30 minutes. Yeah, that used to impress me too. So I ran in to the finish at 24:54. My daughter ran over and said “Mom, you PB’d!” I knew I wasn’t running PB-pace – I’d been checking pace from time to time and watching it creep slowly up. I glanced down at my Garmin when she said that, seeing a 4.76, and dismissed her congrats… “Yeah, but the course was short.”

“Don’t DO that!” she replied.

Oh, in the days before Garmin, we would have been none the wiser, taking that PB at face value and celebrating it. But I don’t know… is a PB still a PB, even when the course is short?

We waited a while at the finish, then started walking back to the hotel since we had family waiting on us for dinner. The final two runners were still making their way back and as we neared them on course, I would stop, put my shoes down, clap and cheer. Feeling inspired and impressed by these women. I’m not sure why the idea of being last feels embarrassing or shameful when it’s me, but a mark of determination, spirit, and triumph when it’s someone else. When the final runner passed by, a bike volunteer who’d ridden out to check on her told her she had some friends coming out to run her in. I turned to see pros Jeff Symonds and Nathan Killam jogging out to finish with her. Like the final finisher in an Ironman, there’s a lot of support for the last one in. No, last was not a bad place to be.

My big brave move had been wearing a top that exposed a bit of midriff. A counter to some self-esteem bashing “picked for you” pins that Pinterest had been taunting me with. All bones, flat stomachs, and thigh gaps. I was trying to embrace strong, fit, and powerful and be a better role model for my girly. But mostly it just made me hate all the race pictures. And then the next morning, when I went for a short swim, I ended up in a conversation with a teeny-tiny super-fit and lovely woman, also heading in for a swim. She’d won her age group at IMC in a previous year. She’d been to Kona. And she described it as terrible because the Island shuts down and is overrun by triathletes… all these teeny-tiny super-fit women. Hmmm. Are any of us comfortable in our skin?

Today was the Ogopogo swim race. Three distances to choose from: 500m, 1K or 2K. 500m hardly seemed like struggling in to the wet suit, and 2K seemed like work, so I’d signed up for the 1K and was actually looking forward to it. I’ve done very little swimming since IMC… this will be fun I thought.

Walking to the Peach, I watched the lake churning in the wind, listened to the waves crashing on shore. Gross. I texted my friend Jenn who was swimming the 2K: I’m not sure I’m going to swim. I told her the water was rough, and this was supposed to be fun. So drop down to the 1K she said. Ha.

After some expert bodymarking, I wriggled into my wetsuit (in its last season I’m afraid), and waited for the start. Two 500m loops, swimming mostly across the waves… darn it. At the start, I struggled to get my breathing right. And I don’t think it was the slightly choppy lake as much as it was the absence of time spent in any lake this last month, but it was a rough start. I was aware that pretty much everyone was swimming away from me, leaving me thrashing about pretty much on my own. I had a “yeah, what else is new” feeling, but other than that, didn’t really care. I knew that with a bunch of people doing the 2K, it’s not like I’d be emerging 20 minutes after everyone was done. So I just settled in and swam, taking a moment at one point to acknowledge that it was fortunate that I was a bilateral breather and could choose which side to breathe on given the rough water. 

I finished in 26:11, with a 2:19/100m pace. Not fast by any standard but 1 second faster than any of my previous open water swim race paces. Go figure. 

I’m glad I didn’t bail.

Ironman Canada - the last month of training... and not training

A few months ago, I sat with my coffee, composing a post in a free window of time made possible thanks to insomnia. And here I am again, only instead of being 3 months and change from race day, it’s 3 days and a couple of hours away. I know, I should be sleeping. But rather than lie awake imagining treacherous wet descents, 7 hours of squinting into the rain, and the misery of the Pemby flats accentuated by wind and road spray (any guesses on the weather forecast?), I thought I might as well get up and catch things up here. And maybe, just maybe reassure myself that I’m at least as trained up this year, as I was for Challenge last year.

The fact is, I haven’t been strong and healthy this last month of training. I got sick the day after the Scotia Half with a bronchial infection. Took 3 days off and then resumed training, including a horrible hot, abysmally slow ride up in Whistler that had me worrying about bike cut-offs for the first time ever. I have been so confident on the bike prior to now that I’ve never even looked up the bike cut-offs up! Worried about swim cut-offs and overall race limits sure, but the bike? Forget about it! But back to my training re-entry… the province was on fire and the air quality was awful but I continued training, relying often on my asthma puffer, which I only ever use pre-run in sub-zero temperatures. As I wrapped things up at work and prepared for some time off… cold sore… for me a hallmark of stress and fatigue. I normally get a couple a year. This was my second in a month. The next day, lost toenails (common) turned into infected toes (never). The day after that, a second cold sore (wtf). It seemed my immune system was MIA! Coach benched me for another 3 days. I got myself to a clinic for some antibiotics and tried not to panic. Two weeks out from race day, and I’m on antibiotics and rest. Grrr. After a couple of days, the cough was gone… hooray, health here I come! Or not. The day after I finished the course of antibiotics, I woke up with a head cold, and a mysterious rash. And yesterday, the tell-tale tingle and bump of a cold sore on the way. Hopefully this one I can ward off with the Rx the clinic doc offered up when I presented in a sad state 10 days ago. I don’t know why my body isn’t fighting anything right now – but I’m hoping it’s prepared to fight through that long day of racing on Sunday. And with all the hard work of training done, it’s time to work on my mental game. Instead of focusing on the 6-days off due to illness – which was really only 4 because 2 of those were originally scheduled as rest days anyway – it’s time to focus on all the work I have done. And with that… time to look at the last month of training…

	IMC: 5 weeks to go (June 22-28)	Challenge: 5 weeks to go (July 21-27)
Total training hours	11:51	19:02 (includes training camp)
Swim	3:41 / 8.35 km	3:50 / 8.67 km
Bike	4:22 / 111.4 km	10:43 / trainer time + 207.6 km on road
Run	3:48 / 38.1 km	4:29 / 42.6 km
Strength training
Yoga
SBR Total	11:51	19:02

Even before I checked my logs, I knew that 5 weeks out, my hours would be much lighter this year. Why? The Scotia Half.

I had tried to motivate myself into pushing hard enough to get that sub-2 by reminding myself race day that my fellow IMC-athletes were out on 7-hour rides that Sunday, and that if I was missing that ride, I had better make this count. 

Yeah, so that didn’t work. Another swing and a miss: 2:02:10.

	IMC: 4 weeks to go (June 29-July 5)	Challenge: 4 weeks to go (July 28-Aug 3)
Total training hours	13:07	22:41 (includes training camp)
Swim	1:28 / 3.1 km	4:58 / 10.58 km
Bike	10:36 / 241.1 km	13:09 / 304.5 km
Run	1:03 / 10.1 km	4:34 / 42.5 km
Strength training
Yoga
SBR Total	13:07	22:41

Slurpee!

And this is the week I got sick but still… this comparison is not boosting my confidence. This weekend included the terrible ride in Whistler. Here I am about 4 hours in, having arrived in Pemberton after battling a head-wind and heat for 2 hours. As soon as we crested the corkscrew, the air quality changed. Smoky, hazy, searing your lungs. We didn’t know it when we set it out, but it was obvious now: there’s a big fire in this area. I'd been fantasizing for a while about what I was going to have when I got to the PetroCan... Something cold, something thirst quenching...We had a treat, loaded up on water, and decided we wouldn’t do ourselves any favours riding the flats in the smoke, and headed back to Whistler.

Very, very slowly. 

Standing in Alta Lake post-ride to cool the legs, I texted my Coach my worries about the bike cut-off… and flashed back to 3-weekends pre-Challenge when I texted him that I couldn’t swim in Okanagan Lake!

I vowed to stop doing on-course training 3-weekends from race day in future, and hoped it wouldn’t be in the mid to high 30s race day… looks like I’m getting my wish! :-/

Whistler on the left, Pemberton on the right.

	IMC: 3 weeks to go (July 6-12)	Challenge: 3 weeks to go (Aug 4-10)
Total training hours	16:46	14:58
Swim	4:55 / 10.12 km	4:13 / 9 km
Bike	7:40 / 185.4 km	7:11 / 175.6 km
Run	4:11 / 38.5 km	3:34 / 32.9 km
Strength training
Yoga
SBR Total	16:46	14:58

Feeling a little better about this comparison. I missed a 2 hr ride / 30 minute run brick because of the second “benching “.

	IMC: 2 weeks to go (July 13-19)	Challenge: 2 weeks to go (Aug 11-17)
Total training hours	13:00	13:15
Swim	2:43 / 5.46 km	4:18 / 8.96 km
Bike	5:27 / 141.4 km	5:37 / 145.9 km
Run	2:50 / 27.1 km	3:20 / 32.1 km
Strength training
Yoga	2:00
SBR Total	11:00	13:15

Missed a bit of swim and run time because of Coach’s “you’re on rest” directive.

So am I feeling better after this? Maybe… maybe not. I did discover that I misaligned my weeks in doing these comparisons for the prior posts. And as I have a chuckle over that, I realize perhaps the point here is not to focus on what I’ve done this time vs last time, but to focus on what I’ve done. Period. And what I did last year was part of the journey too, building my fitness and giving me experience. Right now, it’s time to focus on this weekend. I head up to Whistler today – not sure if it will ground me, excite me, or send the nervousness into overdrive. Probably the latter… stay tuned. For now, it’s time for more coffee and my Q15 minute weather check!