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.

Race Report: Challenge Penticton Full

So, here’s something unexpected. I’m posting my Challenge Penticton race report. Yes, it’s been three and a half months. And one might wonder why bother? Well, because. Because that day was so significant for me. For many reasons. It was about more than “just” the distance. Yes, more than “just” those 225.95 kms traveled. In the same way that the training was about more than the effort in those 580 hours of swimming, biking, running, lifting, and yogaing that lead me to the start line. And while revisiting the blog this last week, and looking back at my Facebook posts from race day, I realize the memories of race day are still pretty vivid. I don’t want to lose that day, so I’m going to try and capture it all here – 3 and a half months late, but here just the same.

When I read my training recap for the week before race day, it brings me right back to that nervous night before. Being withdrawn, in my own head, trying to imagine the day, how it would feel, whether I would rise to meet the challenge. The race morning photos capture well the nervousness I was feeling.

The walk to the start was dark.  I looked out at the lake to try and get a sense of how calm it was, but it was too dark to tell for sure. As we came near the entrance to the transition area, a volunteer told my family they couldn’t continue with me. As it turned out, we weren’t yet in an athletes-only section, and they could have stayed near. I was unprepared to be alone at that point, in the dark, and trying to find my way to the drop point for our special needs bags. But I found the drop off and made my way to my bike where I connected with friends, pumped up my tires, while trying to read the tire pressure in the dark, crossing my fingers that they were just right. After mounting my water bottles, stuffing my bento with Mars Bars and pumping my tires, there was plenty of time to stand around and be nervous. I made nervous chit-chat with friends who were competing, and those who were there supporting… my family nowhere in sight after having been shooed away earlier.  While waiting just outside transition we heard the announcement: non wetsuit swim for the pros.

I had a brief warm-up swim as instructed by my coach, and then stood around waiting for the start, a mass of nervous energy. I was most worried about the swim. But like all races, I just wanted it to start. The worst part of the day is before that start gun goes off, when the negative voices and the self doubt is overwhelming – and there’s nothing you can do. When the gun goes off, and you cross the line, it’s familiar territory. All those training hours. It’s time to get to work.

Challenge was a mass-start and fortunately the field was pretty small so it wasn’t really chaotic. I stayed near the buoy line as instructed by my coach, and settled into a rhythm. I got kicked a few times, had my legs grabbed a few times, but I didn’t let it alter my stroke or my rhythm. Celebrated that there were people swimming around me… even people behind me, and kept swimming. As it turned out, this was the swim of my life. I came out of the water in 1:38:51. I had been targeting 1:45. Thinking 2:00 was more likely. But still worried about the 2:15 cut-off. I swam faster than ever, and straighter than ever before… thinking maybe the course was a little on the long side, since my arguably straight swim came in at 4.23 km.

The only downside to the swim: my inability to multitask. Many times out there, I tried to coax myself to pee! But I couldn’t do it… couldn’t swim and empty my bladder at the same time. I wasn’t about to stop and tread water for the sake of getting this taken care of, finally accepting as I got closer to shore that I was going to have to waste time in transition. And waste time I did. There were only 2 porta-potties between the swim exit and the change tent, and the volunteer manning these johns was warning athletes not to use one of them. Someone’s nervous energy had um, overflowed, or something but the message was clear: you don’t want to go in there. So I waited in line, burning through transition minutes… not knowing how many… just waiting for my turn.

The change tent volunteers were fabulous. As I was taking items one at a time from my T1 bag and deciding what to do with them, a volunteer came and sat with me, grabbed the bag, dumped the contents in front of me, and asked what I need, trying to work through the bag in a logical order, and asking helpful questions like: “Do you need your swim cap?” [yes, it was still on my head] “I don’t think you do.” The run from the change tent to the bike racks seemed frustratingly long… running it in bike shoes anyway! As I rolled my bike across the mount line and prepared to ride, I could hear the announcer: “and here we have one of the last athletes to head out on the bike…” Uh thanks… Again, I didn’t know how much time I had spent in transition with that porta-potty wait, but I was feeling grateful to have the swim behind me, and ready to start the bike.

I loved the ride… well, most of it anyway. I remember feeling pretty great as I made my way along Skaha Lake, climbed up McLean, and road through my favourite section of the course, heading towards OK Falls. I made small talk with other racers as I passed them, thanked the volunteers, and enjoyed the day, the weather, and that I was actually doing it! All those weeks of training, and here it was, race day. And I was doing it! I’d made it past the swim. And the bike was awesome!

That feeling continued through Oliver and as I made my way up Richter Pass. There was a noticeable thinning of the “crowd” after leaving Oliver, as the Half athletes parted ways. Climbing Richter felt effortless. I felt like I was owning the climb, passing several riders, but not feeling like I was pushing too hard. Richter was the first place I would come across a genetically blessed family of 4 whose presence out there was a highlight of the day. I don’t even remember their names except that their oldest daughter’s name was Tessa! As I rode by on Richter, I called out “I love this hill!” and one of them called back “It looks good on you!”

I would see them again several times throughout the day… along the rollers, nearing the top of the Yellow Lake climb, on the run course, and then again at the finish line. A beautiful family from Kelowna, radiating positive energy, coming out to cheer on strangers through a very, very long day.

After Richter came the rollers, and I found myself riding at a great pace along them. I spent a lot of time in aero during the race – something I’d done precious little of during training – and enjoying the speed boost it gave me. And this is where I think I made one of my race day errors. My nutrition plan for the day called for a mix of Carbopro, Clif bars, and a Mars bar on the out and back. I had planned them so that I wouldn’t be eating solids right before climbs, and would alternate water and carbopro as a result. I was riding faster than anticipated and had made adjustments when I got to Oliver. Eating a Clif bar earlier than planned, drinking water instead of Carbopro. My Garmin was set to chirp at me every 10 minutes on the bike to remind me to drink. Unfortunately, when I was on the rollers, I continually ignored the chirp, not wanting to lose momentum by coming out of aero to reach for a bottle. I kept telling myself I’d drink on the next climb when I’d be coming out of aero anyway. And then the climb would come, and there’d be someone riding it slower than me, and I’d use the opportunity to pass them instead.

As I approached the Cawston out and back, the wind picked up and it started to rain. This was perhaps the only portion of the bike course that I didn’t love. I was beginning to tire, I knew I still had a lot of riding to do, and the weather was lousy! I was also beginning to do the math on my calories and water and knew I was in trouble. When I got to my special needs bag at the turnaround, I drank the Red Bull in it, left everything else, and continued on. I grabbed a bottle of water at the water station Gina was working, and started making my way to Yellow Lake. Other riders were beginning to slow down at this point, and there was a lot of riders to pass, the mood of everyone seeming a little less jubilant than earlier in the day.

My race plan had called for a pit stop at the Cawston turnaround (if I needed it), otherwise at the top of Yellow Lake. In my long training rides, this was usually the point mileage wise, were my body demanded it. But not today. This was probably when it dawned on me that I had screwed up my nutrition plan. I had intended to take in 1500-1700 calories by the time I got off the bike, and consume about 3 litres of fluids. When I got off the bike, I’d taken in 800-900 calories and just 1.5 litres of fluids, with a good third or more of the fluids taken on after Yellow Lake.

I had been worried about the ride down the switchbacks to Penticton… because I suck on the downhills but with a lane closed to traffic, I just relaxed and tried to enjoy the ride down. It was nothing short of fabulous. And perhaps a little terrifying with the cross wind. At least that was the remark of a rider who caught up to me at the bottom!

I can honestly say that when I got off the bike, I have never wanted to run a marathon less.  I was happy to get off the bike, but the prospect of a marathon? I felt pretty awful. Not awful in the spent muscles, low energy sense, but awful in a nausea-think-I’m-going-to-throw-up-maybe-I-could-just-lie-down-for-a-while sense. No time for that though… there was a marathon to run.

I ran out the first km, then stopped to use a porta-potty. One of the volunteers at the aid station said I looked like I needed a gel so I grabbed one, and kept running. My sweet Tessa was waiting on the course as I ran back past our hotel, and I went in for a hug, grateful to see her, soak up some love, try and draw some positive energy. I didn’t want to run this marathon. I wasn’t about to quit, but I had just over 40 kms left to run, and I didn’t know how I was going to pull it off. Andrew approached with a smile of encouragement and I remember saying: “I don’t feel good”. But I continued on, focusing on finding my stride and settling in, knowing a slow shuffle was better than a walk.

About 20 minutes or so after grabbing the gel, I thought I’d better take it in. I knew I was underfueled getting off the bike and that I couldn’t run the marathon on empty. I took the gel and my stomach cramped almost immediately. I kept running. I was carrying a hand-held water bottle with GU Brew in it, and tried to sip from it, but found I couldn’t tolerate the sweet liquid. As I ran, it felt like it weighed 40 lbs. I tossed the bottle at an aid station, tucking the bottle holder into my tri-top pocket… and kept running.

While I tried to get my GI issues under control, I tried to get in as much water as I could, and not attempt to take in any calories. I walked through every aid station and took a cup of water, and a baggy of ice cubes, filling the bra of my tri-top with ice… by now it was HOT, with no reprieve from the sun as we ran along Skaha. I still wrestled with stomach cramps, visiting several porta-potties, but I was able to keep going. A shuffle of a run, walking the aid stations, and eventually the hill leading out towards OK Falls. It was through this section that I saw Dan and then Taimi, feeling encouraged to see them both.

At OK Falls, what a blessing to have Gina’s friendly face and words of encouragement, delivering me my special needs bag. Truly running on empty at this point, I knew if I could even walk the rest of the way back, I’d finish, I’d make the cut-off, but it wouldn’t be the race I wanted. I choked back a Red Bull… disgusting but I have to admit, good advice from my coach… and grabbed the Ziploc bag of dried fruit I’d put in there as a treat, and I started to make my way back to Penticton.

I think at this point I had taken in enough water at the aid stations to recover from the nausea and gastro-issues I’d suffered through on the first part of the run, and I was able to tolerate the dried fruit. I nibbled at it from time to time, and picked up my pace… remembering a shuffle is better than a walk, not wanting to be a part of the “death march”. The second half of the run was much better than the first… better hydrated, some calories, and a reprieve from the heat, I found a pace and was able to settle in.

When I got to the 39 km aid station, I was offered beer… yes, beer! I’d been having a talk with myself at various points on the run, thinking about what I wanted when I finished… coffee, no a beer, no coffee, no a beer. I’ll tell you, that beer at the aid station, few things have gone down as easy!

Through the last few kms, it gets pretty lonely. It seems like most of the athletes that you’re going to pass, you already have, and there weren’t a lot of spectators. It was dark, quiet... lots of time to think… reflect on the training, the day, the challenges.  When I set out on this journey, I’d been focused on the 17-hour cut-off. I worried about not making it in time. About still being out on course when the fireworks went off at midnight… like my own personal Hunger Games! When I hired my coach, he said quite confidently that I would finish in under 15 hours. I knew how long my swim had taken, how long my bike had taken, how long the run was taking but I had no idea how long my transitions were. Still, I was pretty sure I was under 15 hours. Not sure how much under… but under.

At the beginning of the day while chatting with friends pre-race, I had confessed that I had tucked a lip gloss inside the pocket of my water bottle holder so that I could apply lip gloss before coming in to the finish. One of my friends laughed and assured me that I would not remember that I had it, nor would I care what I looked like. Au contraire! As I approached the finish, and spectators started to line the street, I grabbed my lip gloss from my pocket and tried to put it on while running… a lost cause. So I stopped, applied my lip gloss, tucked it in my pocket, straightened my outfit and my race number, and ran in to the finish. Andrew saw me stop short of the red carpet and believed I was overwhelmed and having a cry… nope, just getting ready for that finish photo!

Running down the red carpet towards the finish is a moment I’ll never forget. I remember hearing a thunderous banging noise as I ran toward the tape. It took me a moment to realize what it was… spectators, learning over the fencing, banging their arms against the signs. It was amazing. I looked up and saw the time on the clock: 14:15. I was elated. Can you tell?

After the race, we stuck around for an hour or so, waiting to see how friends were doing, chatting about the race. The finish line spread offered little for vegans… “I can get you a white bun with condiments” Andrew offered. Pass. After an hour or so, we headed back to the hotel… climbing the stairs to our room – a painful obstacle! Back in the room, I celebrated with a beer, leftover pasta from two nights earlier, and a bag of Snapeas, then went to bed listening to the fireworks. I do regret not heading out to sit on the beach in front of our hotel, watching the fireworks, and toasting the experience with some champagne. At the time though, there was no way I was going to go down and up a flight of stairs!

I slept for about an hour, then woke up, in a world of hurt. I’d have traded my finisher’s medal for an Advil at that point! Adrenaline kept me from getting back to sleep, so I tried to lay absolutely still – because every time I moved, multiple things hurt – and spent some time on Facebook, reliving the day through Andrew’s pictures and comments from friends. Imagine my surprise to read that a friend had watched my pre-finish lip gloss application on the live stream! LOL

When I watched my finish line video, I can hear the announcer say something along the lines of: “Congratulations Karin. You met the Challenge today. And folks, not only did Karin meet the challenge but she has lost more than 120 lbs” [little cheer goes up from the crowd] “Karin, you are an inspiration.” But you know what he doesn’t say? He doesn’t say “you ARE an Ironman”. Now logically, I think what was said should mean a heck of a lot more than what wasn’t said but… I still need to hear it.

So 2015… IMC. Yes, it needs to be done. When I told my coach, he said sub-13 was possible. I corrected him… “you mean sub-14”. “No, sub-13.” Well… we’ll see.  31 weeks and 5 days… 

My Road to Challenge: Training Week 40 of...40!

The last week before the big day. Not a lot of training. SO much to do in terms of race preparation and quieting the mind, or at least the negative chatter in the mind.

	Week 40 (August 18-23)	Cumulative
Total training hours	04:18	580:49
Swim	01:39 / 3.823 km	120:05 / 251.9814 km
Bike	01:47 / 47.7 km	217:31 (spin class + trainer time + 3358.7 km)
Run	01:22 / 13 km	146:47 / 1453.96 km
Strength training		40:08
Yoga		52:25

Recall in my last post that I was panic stricken dismayed to learn that my bike servicing would be a whole lot more involved than I had bargained for. Well good friends never let you down, and fortunately, neither did my Visa card. A trip or two to MEC for parts, and an afternoon spent with a good friend / trainer / bike mechanic, and my ride was looking Sa-weet! Seriously, this man always delivers. Thanks to his efforts and the fabulous race wheels courtesy of Gray Cycling Canada, my bike was looking gorgeous and fast.

Tuesday was my last swim at Sasamat before leaving for the race. And while I still hadn’t mastered straight, I was happy with the pace and feeling comfortable. It was also my last run at home and I was feeling the effects of the taper. It was an easy 8K run with a few 1 minute zone 3 “bursts” and I found myself easily hitting my 5K race pace. Although let’s be real… a lot can feel easy when you only need to sustain it for a minute!

Wednesday was the day we were leaving for Penticton, but not before sneaking in a ride at home… my first ride with both race wheels on and freshly tuned. The bike felt fast and I felt great. And then it was time to hit the road… and suddenly everything felt terrifyingly real!

Thursday morning I didn’t have any training to do, but I got up early to head out and have a look at the lake at 6:45. After my shitty training swims on the long weekend, I needed to see the lake at swim-start time, and (hopefully) see it calm. It was worth getting up early.

Thursday was also check-in day, a perfect opportunity to begin obsessing and worrying… “I don’t look like these people”… “I can’t do this”… I may have had one or two overwhelmed tearful meltdowns. On the upside, the wristbands they issued to tag the pain junkies could not have been more perfect. Pink and sparkly.

Friday morning, I got up early to swim at 6:45 and was glad I did. The lake was calm. I barrel raced around buoys that had been put out for the kids tri, practicing my sighting and giving me a destination for my unstructured 30 minute swim. Finally! A good swim in this lake! I was glad I’d gotten up early. 90 minutes or so later when I went out to watch friends swim, the wind had picked up and the water was choppy. 

Later I logged my last run before race day, 5K along the water. Feeling good. Feeling ready. And then not. And then ready. And then not. And then I lost a contact lens. Laughed that I’d had the foresight to order new contacts before race day, but not the presence of mind to pack them. Had 2 glasses of wine and a sleeping pill and called it a day!

Saturday morning… last day… 10 minute swim with a slight chop… and an easy 30 minute ride. I opted to do this on my favourite part of the course. Andrew drove me to the top of McLean Rd. Driving out there, we passed a lot of people out riding and running… nothing for me to do but sit and think, and worry. Cry a little. I was feeling incredibly stressed, and overwhelmed with doubt. I rode through that charming stretch of old west, checked out the new pavement heading down into OK Falls, and then headed out to Vaseux Lake. My 30 minute easy spin took me 13 km even. Lucky?  It was the only time I wasn’t stressed that day and I wished I could spend the whole day on the bike… uh huh, save that thought for tomorrow! 

Nothing left to do after that but make an umpteenth check of my gear & special needs bags, compulsively check the weather forecast, check in my bike and my gear bags, check the weather, have dinner, check the weather… and try to get some sleep. Bahahahahahaha.

Week 40 looked like this:

Monday
Tuesday	2.3 km lake swim 8 km run
Wednesday	35 km ride
Thursday
Friday	1.3 km lake swim 5 km run
Saturday	10 minute swim (321 m) 13 km ride

And then what happened? That’s another post…

My Road to Challenge: Training Weeks 36-39 of 40

Tardy with the posting… again! Peaking in training certainly ate up much of my time but I had expected to be able to post regularly during my taper. And well… here we are 9 days post-race so clearly that didn’t happen. Just in case anyone has been following along, or comes upon this later and wants to compare to their own training, I’ll complete the training saga – filling in with a few details harvested from Facebook. Because really, this journey was about so much more than race day and I want to be able to look back and remember. Really. I’m only going up to week 39 for this one because I think the final week deserves its own post.

	Week 36 (July 21-27)	Cumulative
Total training hours	19:02	525:37
Swim	03:50 / 8.6732 km	104:57 / 219.6125 km
Bike	10:43 / (trainer time + 207.6 km)	189:47 (spin class + trainer time + 2685 km)
Run	04:29 / 42.6 km	133:57 / 1333.46 km
Strength training		40:08
Yoga		52:25

Week 36 included my second training camp with girlfriends. We headed up to Whistler to volunteer at Ironman Canada and to get in some training. I had the “good” fortune to see bears on every ride. During my long ride of the weekend – riding the full course minus the T1 to 99 stretch – I had a slight mishap on the bike, riding at speed into a very large rock on the shoulder between Whistler and Pemberton. I was sporting a mighty impressive bump, despite not crashing. We’re nearly 6 weeks past that and it’s still bruised and tender to the touch. When I stopped in Pemberton to peel off some layers, I took a picture and chronicled my tale of woe:

Busy highway. One bear encounter. And this. The good news is while I thought for a while my left big toe might be broken, I can no longer feel it. About halfway through my ride. Am I having fun yet? No.

For my IMC volunteer duty, I had the privilege of body marking nervous athletes before they boarded the buses and headed to the swim start. Later, I was a catcher on the finish line, working the first shift when the pros came in and the faster age-groupers.  The year before I’d worked the last shift. Working the first shift taught me something: ironman hurts – whether you’re finishing in 8 hours and change or just before the cut-off, it hurts. I’m not sure it was great for my mental game to be up there so close to my own race but it was wonderful to cheer on my PRM friends, especially the IM virgins! It was a great day.

	Week 37 (July 28-Aug 3)	Cumulative
Total training hours	22:41	548:18
Swim	04:58 / 10.5819 km	109:55 / 230.1944 km
Bike	13:09 / 304.5 km	202:56 (spin class + trainer time + 2989.5 km)
Run	04:34 / 42.5 km	138:31 / 1375.96 km
Strength training		40:08
Yoga		52:25

Hello peak week! The August long weekend also served as Training Camp 3.0 and I headed up to Penticton for a few days of training with girlfriends. Five women, one bathroom. It was luxurious after the previous weekend when we had 6 and one bathroom!  Rides this weekend included riding the Full course on Saturday and the Half course on Sunday. Both beautiful, challenging rides. It was my first time riding the full course, and also my biggest ride to date. Ultraman Canada was also taking place this weekend and Saturday we were encountering athletes on the course and receiving support and encouragement from their crews! One of the highlights of the weekend came halfway into my Saturday ride, while baking in the Okanagan heat along the rollers, one of the Ultraman crew ran alongside me pouring cold water on my back and shoulders. Bliss! And I felt like a bit of a rockstar. LOL. 15 km later, we were waiting out a thunderstorm and eating salty snacks in the car with our sherpa.

Lowlight of the weekend? Swimming in Okanagan Lake. I swam late Sunday afternoon and it was a choppy, challenging, nausea-inducing nightmare. I was reassured by others that it’s not like that in the mornings. Ha! Monday morning it was worse. I texted a tantrummy missive to my coach: I don’t think I can swim in this lake. And spent the next 3 weeks worrying about the swim cut-off.

	Week 38 (August 4-10)	Cumulative
Total training hours	14:58	563:16
Swim	04:13 / 9.0044 km	114:08 / 239.1988 km
Bike	07:11 / 175.6 km	210:07 (spin class + trainer time + 3165.1 km)
Run	03:34 / 32.9 km	142:05 / 1408.86 km
Strength training		40:08
Yoga		52:25

The taper begins!! My body took the drop in activity a little too seriously and I ended up missing a bike workout on the Wednesday – which I’ve dubbed Narcoleptic Wednesday.

	Week 39 (August 11-17)	Cumulative
Total training hours	13:15	576:31
Swim	04:18 / 8.9596 km	118:26 / 248.1584 km
Bike	05:37 / 145.9 km	215:44 (spin class + trainer time + 3311 km)
Run	03:20 / 32.1 km	145:25 / 1440.96 km
Strength training		40:08
Yoga		52:25

Saturday of this week, I went over my race plan with my coach. I felt good about the plan, good about the training. For the most part, I was feeling ready (swim worries aside). Unfortunately, while being outfitted with some demo race wheels (oh happy day! Thank you Gray Cycling Canada!), my coach surveyed my bike and advised that during my bike servicing on Monday, I should replace the chain… cassette… cables. Whaaaa? I already felt like I was hemorrhaging  money into this venture, so this was not good news. I also wasn’t sure if the friend who had generously offered to service my bike in exchange for beer, gratitude and a kiss on the cheek, was prepared for that kind of effort!

Still, despite those worries, I had a good training ride on Sunday and came home feeling ready and excited for race day.