Christine Fletcher

Life is Good.

2011-10-30T16:43:00.000-07:00

Almost seven weeks post surgery.
3 massive screws implanted in my right hip...and they are there for life says my surgeon.
New found time has opened new doors and new experiences.
A change in perspective has been the only option and a saving grace.
Gratitude for my friendships, family and sense of self has been pouring over me.

There is no doubt, I am looking at my toes alot more then I used. With a little buff and polish, they are not as horrible as I've always thought. Life is good.

Break Through

2011-09-29T08:36:00.000-07:00

On September 1st I headed out for a run. I was looking forward to it and had been all week. It was going to be a hard session. It was going to tap into the upper end of my threshold. It was going to require a serious play list carefully compiled according to a warm up, workout and cool down. It was key session to savior.

My execution of the workout was near perfect. I hit my speeds and heart rates like clockwork and was reveling in my accomplishment the whole way home. Okay, maybe I felt a small “twinge” in my right hip flexor but that was to be expected after a tough session. Such a minor sensation paled in comparison to the ongoing glut tightness I have endured for years – always on my right side. I almost welcomed tension somewhere else.

Waking up on September 2nd for my first step of the day was cause for concern. That right hip flexor “twinge” was a bit stiff, stiffer than just typical post-workout soreness. I know the difference. Decision: drop the scheduled run in exchange for a swim. The weekend was nearing and so were some key workouts including a 5-hour ride, a long run and a threshold swim. Friday became a rest day in hopes of waking Saturday with vigor and fortitude. Muskoka Half Ironman was a week away; Austin and Miami races were six and seven weeks away. A hip flexor “twinge” was certainly not going to turn into a full-blown injury. I had big plans.

Saturday came and my “twinge” was no better. No biking, no running, just a swim would be in order. I hobbled to the pool with more than just a little soreness. Sunday would need to be another rest day. The days were getting long and my symptoms were anything but subsiding. My walk was becoming a limp with searing pain now inside my hip joint. Surely I just needed to untie all the knots in my muscles. I aggressively stretched, strengthened, rolled out and fired weak muscles. No progress. Concern and confusion were at an all time high.

One week after my initial symptoms, it was time for an x-ray to access the bones and joints. Results: Negative. Treatment: Morphine and Crutches. Could it be trochanteric bursitis? Could a soft tissue injury be this painful? Could a Cortisone Shot cure me? Wishful thinking.

My trip to Ontario was cancelled, as were any hopes of racing again this year when the results from an MRI and CT Scan showed a stress fracture of my femoral neck. The break line was amazingly clean and evident. How it did not show up on an x-ray is anyone’s guess. In fact, I’ve stopped guessing. I suspect a small undetectable split in the bone was always there but during my 10 days of hobbling, stretching, rolling, moving and walking, it spread like a crack on a windshield. The good news (because there is always good news) was the bones were in perfect alignment. Dislodged bones presented an entirely new scenario.

Not one to take an injury passively, I was anywhere but home waiting to get heal. In the preceding 10 days, I’d been to Emergency at UBC Hospital, consumed Codeine like candy, had three physiotherapy appointments, had an intramuscular stimulation (IMS) treatment, met with doctors on four separate occasions, agreed to a cortisone shot for possible Bursitis, and paid for a private X-ray, MRI and CT scan. The CT Scan cracked the code and it was worth every penny.

Allow me to digress. For many years, my team of medical experts in Vancouver has helped me prevent serious damage and rehabilitate from debilitating injury. Each one of them knows my darkest secrets and I owe them much more than just the odd breakthrough performance. For some reason, we all (myself included) had not suspected a broken bone until it was confirmed. I was being treated for soft tissue injury and we were all equally perplexed. I don’t fault any of them for not suspecting a fractured femoral neck. Apparently this type of injury only happens to people who are four times my age. Apparently not.

Ironically, my brother Mark had participated in a 24 Hour Charity Cycling event at Mont Tremblant over the weekend with friends. One of his teammates and close friends was an orthopedic surgeon specializing in Pelvic area. He graciously agreed to look at the image of my CT Scan and within in 5 seconds he called Mark to order me to VGH Emergency for surgery that night. My situation was suddenly “urgent” yet I was in the middle of making salad dressing for dinner with Ruthie! Mark’s tone was not to be questioned so I dropped the garlic, called Ruthie and we made our way to Emergency instead of to my patio for soup and salad.

I must digress yet again and mention a word about Ruthie…selflessly giving, unhesitatingly caring and authentically trusting, only begins to describe her nature and the meaning of her friendship to me. She dropped everything to take me to emergency all the while she too should have been admitted for an infected root canal she had had that SAME DAY. Her father, Dr. Coorperberg, joined us in the waiting room for moral support and to push the bureaucratic envelop a bit. He too had had a medical procedure that day. We were like the Three Stooges awaiting our fate.

Two and a half hours later, I was admitted, questioned, x-rayed, changed, drugged and checked into a single room much unlike the Ritz Carlton but a minor upgrade from the Motel 6. Ruthie was at my side every solitary second except for when she ducked out to retrieve our sushi dinner and fashion magazines. We dined in the casting room amongst plaster and medical supplies and somehow found laughter in every subtle occurrence (a.k.a: fatigue + nerves + girls = Giddy). Once we both knew I was spending the night, she made her way home to her own family and responsibilities.

Surgery was elusively scheduled for Tuesday. Somehow Ruthie made it back to the hospital just in time for a pre-operation farewell. She held my hand while tapping updates on my Blackberry to family and friends. She told me everything would be fine and I believed her.

Emotions flooded over me when I couldn’t see her anymore and the reality of someone playing around with my bones was closing in. Playing, may I add, with bones that were the lifeblood of movement and the hinge of my very important right limb. However, the importance of racing, training and my professional career as a triathlete was dimmed to a shadow in relation to basic mobility and health. It is amazing to me how perspective changes under dire circumstances and how our priorities, values and desires shift when striped of gifts as precious as mobility.

The surgery was a brilliant success. The bones were fused with three pins and the blazing pain was gone from the moment my anesthetic wore off. Post-surgery aches and throbbing persisted but trusty drugs rescued my wincing every time. Meanwhile Ruthie’s infected root canal went on to swell up and take over her lip and right cheek. Her beautiful face was transformed to that of a Fraggal Rock character. Had she not dealt with it I would have been accompanying her to a hospital bed.

My mother arrived from Montreal just as my four-post bed and IV was being rolled back into my Ritz Suite. Butlers and maids were waiting ever so patiently to refill my refreshments (IV) and change my bedding (plastic cover). In fact, they were so gracious and helpful, they didn’t even let me get up to use the Loo. They brought it to me. What a treat.

Thanks to fading anesthetic I was free entertainment for all my visitors with delirious and socially inept chatter and eyes at half-mast. My friends (even the ones I didn’t know I had) contacted me with concern and interest. From down pillows to sushi, books, magazines, flowers, super greens, yoga pants, home made lasagna, copious texts, emails, visits and phone calls and invaluable moments of laughter and tears, there wasn’t a moment to wallow in my sorrow.

Last time I digress. Promise.

A word about the way the universe works…I believe this was meant to happen. The Adjustment Bureau was in full control here. They even sent Angels to watch over me well before my final diagnosis, the surgery and prognosis. They wanted to give me strength before I even knew I would need it. I suspect they choose my coach Jasper Blake to deliver the message because it was he who stabilized my emotional wobbles and enlightened me to how it was going to be and who I needed to emulate. He repeatedly said the present moment is all we have and we must live it with integrity and perspective. “Don’t jump ahead,” he said, “and don’t regret the past. What’s done is done. Be in the now and live it out, as it should be. What lies ahead isn’t within your control so there isn’t any point worrying about it. Be who you aspire to be - authentic, respectful and grounded.” He also told me to think of someone I truly admired and how they would handle this situation. How would the world’s most respected athlete handle being somewhat derailed from regular training and the best laid performance plans? He also said (and always says), “Don’t panic.” Those simple words scream loudly and pointedly to someone as focused and goal driven as myself when I feel a tug at my carpet under foot. Breathing becomes easier without panic.

Jasper’s confidence in me as an individual (with or without my next bike ride) stabilized my emotions and planted my feet firmly on the ground. I knew how I needed to embody this situation and almost enjoy a completely unplanned change in direction and priorities. I also knew this mindset would cause the least amount of stress on others and myself. Having a peace of mind and patience was going to be a critical component to my recovery and neither pity nor negativity was invited to the party.

The number one question my (athletic) friends ask me is whether I am climbing the walls anxious to train. My reply is categorically no. Would I like to be mobile? Yes of course. But at this moment, I am far more inspired to regain my health. My goals have shifted 180 degrees from racing to rebuilding with the same passion and focus as applied to my training. Amazingly, when I gain another inch of mobility in my hip it feels gaining 2 seconds in a 100 meter swim.

What has been the biggest shift as a result of a fractured hip? Likely the newfound time and energy to dedicate to entirely different activities that don’t involve sweating or a heart rate monitor. This new time is also breeding rejuvenation thanks to living a little lazy, sleeping in a little late, chatting endlessly with friends and family, reading entire books, soaking in more movies and watching the grass grow one blade at a time. It’s been years - maybe 20 - since I have lived a little lazy. It is mandatory. It feels wonderful. It has a window. It is a break through.

Off to nap.
Christine

Summer Love & Integrity

2011-09-03T09:06:00.000-07:00

Summer Love

It’s hard to believe Labor Dar weekend is already here and summer is closing in on us fast. As much as I enjoy the warmth and sunshine of a glorious summer day, I also love our seasons - the ebb and flow of nature, temperatures and daylight hours. Summer seems to be the only season that comes to an abrupt halt. One day it’s hot and sultry, the next day it’s breezy and cool. In the midst of an endless summer streak where day after day brings blue skies, the sun never sleeps, the beaches are packed and freedom of expression is rampant it’s hard not to notice that love is in the air, all around us. Can you feel it?

While our Canadian summer arrived late this year, it was one of my most fulfilling summers in some time. From a training, racing, professional and personal level, I found new heights of engagement, challenge and adventure. Was it the weather? Was it my aging wisdom? Was it a few good results? Perhaps a mixture of everything but likely it was the result of timing, perspective and letting it happen.

The experience of racing is something I have always loved. Building up to race day is a process. It begins with a block of training that is intense and purposeful followed by a taper that calms the body and mind down in preparation for race day. Race day (and the days leading up to it) are filled with emotions and only the grounded few are able to cope with the highs and lows of the stress and excitement surrounding race day. Exhilaration is intensely mixed with uncertainty and confidence. In reality, racing is simply a journey to challenge our fitness. It strengthens our character and provides resilience. There is unsurpassed effort, pacing, fueling, focus, integrity, respect, hopes and pitfalls all of which come together and drive us to a finish line of that given day only to tempt us to the next challenge. A successful race day experience can also provide tremendous satisfaction and fulfillment. For most athletes, myself included, training and racing are true love affairs. The unexpected injections of emotions we didn’t even know existed culminate in so many athletic endeavors. One might say these experiences are addictive. But true love isn’t addictive; it’s authentic, genuine and embodied with integrity. Maybe I am maturing but this feels like true love.

And so, it’s been a busy summer of love since my last post. Jasper Blake (just placed 5th at Ironman Canada) kept me on the program building strength and fitness with a packed race schedule. Victoria Half Ironman (3rd place), Desert Half Ironman (1st place) and Lake Stevens Half Ironman (5th place) filled the calendar nicely. My focus is now on Muskoka Half Ironman on September 11th followed by Austin (October 23rd) and Miami (October 30th). This schedule excites my senses and blends nicely with my perspective and feelings of centeredness, not to mention the adventures of getting to each venue and exploring the area.

But I must continue to share more on the topic of integrity and the weight it should carry more of in all our lives (I am taking notes here)…

Yesterday was a pivotal day for me to have re-emphasized the importance of perspective and approach to something as precious as having the ability to train every day healthily and happily (that can be a tall order). I rode with a friend, Mike Ryan. He is a seasoned rider having been a professional mountain biker and multiple road-riding champion (national and international levels). While in his 50’s, he continues to destroy the young pups in any given field. He does it with humility and integrity…every time. Mike and I have known each other for over 10 years. We met riding and continue to share our passion for sport and adventure. His easy spin is my hard effort any day of the week. He lost his father this week. He was with his dad when he died. He is training with his team today, hard. He is racing Gran Fondo next weekend. He has a V02max of a 25 year old. He brings one water bottle for 5 hour rides. He takes pride in his sport, workmanship and space in the universe. All of this does not go unnoticed. He lives in the present. He keeps his ego in check. He isn’t the centre of attention yet he is centered from within. He has many interests and embodies an old soul. He is grateful and inclusive.

Mike shared some of his insights with me during our ride. They were timely and relevant on so many levels. The most prominent was in relation to integrity. This is how I internalized our discussion and the lessons he taught me climbing the hill out of Furry Creek Golf Club.

No matter what Mike is doing in his life – training, racing, socializing or working, Mike approaches each scenario with integrity. He is relentlessly consistent, honest, truthful and accurate in his actions. He looks after his body and mind so that when the time is right, he can deliver. He knows the difference between comfort and pain. He knows how to hurt and endure. Mike is an amazing speciment with more battle scars than most people walking the streets have combined. He uses all his experiences to live more fully and perform on demand. Whether all those riders trying to drop him on Cypress see this in him doesn’t really matter. He knows.

Mike didn’t try to drop me at any given moment (although he did unknowingly, he then waited). With all his grief from losing his father, he willingly shared little snipets of wisdom. I was listening attentively. As I sit here finishing up this post, I think about the swim I have ahead of me. How can I best approach it with integrity, purpose and love? I think I’ll nap first before contemplating my strategy.

Hope you all had a Summer of Love. Maybe we’ll meet in San Fransico next year for Wildflower “Woodstock” Triathlon and express Free Love.

Christine

Summer Riding

Look Up. See More. Your Energy Will Follow.

2011-07-04T20:06:00.000-07:00

Looking from the outside in with no emotional attachment to the outcome or performance, many situations are crystal clear to the spectator. Someone's path may appear ridden with pebbles and roots since their trees were too tall and forest to populated. Some people may be just one step away from a stumble that had they asked you, you would have had all the clarity, wisdom and perspective in the world (and very willing to share it may I add).

When on the inside following your own yellow brick road in hopes of finding Emerald City, it is sometimes impossible to see the man-eating plants and fierce beasts before it is too late. If we are enlightened enough to capture the lessons along the way your chosen path becomes all the more worth it and makes you oh-so much smarter.

Perspective is seeing the bigger picture, is it not? Perspective is when doors open to new possibility and the little things are minimized and belittled. When we look, listen and learn, perspective becomes our fuel and forward momentum is uninhibited. Consider life, minute by minute, with perspective. With perspective, we can manage the details but keep our eye on the distant lofty and tantalizing goal. One little hiccup is meaningless in the grand scheme of things. One windfall doesn't mean we can stop our journey now. Perspective and journey go hand in hand, don't they?

This journal starts with a philosophical slant simply because the past month has been ridden with people, experiences and observations popping up on my yellow brick road offering me signs and signals to see things with a little clarity.
As it is July and the heart of triathlon race season, I find myself unabashedly following the race circuits closely. My motive is part fun and part education. How do professionals get to the podium and how did the race flow. Did they lead from the swim? Did they have a strong run? Who was behind them? How has their season been rolling? What was their strongest leg of the race? How did they get there in the first place? What was their previous race? What's next? What can I take away from this and integrate? If anything.

When I am not in a race, perspective prevails. Would you agree? Bet you could win Hawaii Ironman from your Lazyboy arm chair. Had you been racing you would have attacked on the bike, waited until the second half of the run or practiced faster transitions. The race was lost in transition, right? Yes, we are so smart from the side lines. And yet, there is tremendous learning and observing that takes place from the side lines and if paying attention you might find yourself integrating the lessons to improve your own meager performance the next chance you get. To do so, I would hasard to suggest we must therefore pay attention to the things that matter verses the clutter that stagnates.
Being emotionally unattached and completely unaffected by the outcome are very powerful ways to have perspective. When I started my racing career, this "beginner's mind" depicted was my state. I didn't know what a split was. I didn't know I was racing in an "age category". I didn't know anyone cared or would care about a result. I didn't even know what the Hawaii Ironman was. I recall running my first sub-40 minute 10km in Montreal. Without formal training, a watch, any knowledge of pacing, fueling or course recon and certainly no idea what a "sub-40" meant, I was elated for the purity of the experience. A somewhat more competitive man approached me at the end and said, "wow, you ran sub-40." My "So What?" expression caught him by surprise. The ignorance to times, outcomes and results was bliss. The journey was bliss. Perspective, to be frank, was irrelevant since it was so innate. Until it wasn't anymore and the details started to matter.

My journey to a more competitive lifestyle is not unique. Many others have followed a similar path from the casual weekend warrior to owning a PHD in triathlon gear and becoming a walking encyclopedia for splits and results (of others). While I have played little attention to results (mine or others), I have been side tracked by the art and science of executing a sound, graceful, unchallenged and ideal performance. From my arm chair, an optimum performance takes perspective, and tons of it.
For some unfounded reason, I feel my beginner's mind journey is making a come back thanks to a few simple occasions that have shown up on my jaunt down the YBR. People (friends, coaches, family, therapists), insightful books, racing, travel and most imperatively, observing others with compassion and curiosity has gently nudged me back to see a bigger brighter picture. The details live on but there is no one entity that is the be-all-end-all. Another way of looking at it is to say our circle grows and so does our view.
Since many people read this blog from a triathlon/racing perspective, I will share these two small sporting examples. After Kona 70.3, I did not seem to recover well, physically or emotionally. I had tremendous discomfort in my right hip, was experiencing overwhelming fatigue and felt somewhat depressed. Adrenal suppression perhaps, post-race blues perhaps or a lovely concoction of both coupled with race effort, heat exhaustion and travel. All of which called for rest to rejuvenate. I begrudging did just that - rest - since training was not an option. Hoping to back up Kona with a stellar performance at the Victoria Half Ironman on June 19th was therefore a tall order and from this Lazyboy arm chair, not a realistic request of myself. Pushing all my inner voices aside and bottling up some lingering fatigue, I toed the line in my new Blue Seventy Helix Wetsuit (which contributed to fabulous swim and best leg of the event). Once onto the bike, my mind was unfocused. When I finally caught Sara Gross, I really just wanted to tuck in and chit chat. Where was my edge? Where was my fire? I had to go hunting for it.
Thankfully, I have enough race experience to always stay in the game and race with heart but on this day, it wasn't the effortless flow we athletes all envision to descend upon us. Out on to the run in first, I was searching for my stride. My hips were locked up and my loping gait was stunted. When I came through the first 10km lap, Jasper was encouraging me to relax and turn my legs over a bit faster. Wasn't I looking relaxed? Wasn't my turnover breaking world records? Couldn't he see how damn hard I was working? Apparently his perspective and my experience were worlds apart. Finally as I rounded up the race in 3rd place, thrilled to be finished at all, I stumbled over to Jasper. While proud yet consoling, he knew it was a sub par performance for me. His observation, "good job fletcher. you just looked flat on the run. you looked stiff." I was. And I realized that Jasper (in this instance) was my mirror. We went on to discuss the nuances of my form, training and what might help or what was hindering my run potential. Jasper's educated and skilled observation widened my circle and helped me look at things through a different lens. I needed to address the limitations in my hips, relax my run (and maybe in life?), switch up the order of some workouts and focus on form. Needless to say, I have since been tapping into what is holding me back and diligently unlocking my hips (and my potential?) with dynamic movement, massage, myofascial release and visualization. Could there is some psychology wrapped into this example? Regardless, I will gracefully spare you my hypothesis. Just consider how locked hips means running nowhere fast (in a race and in life).
The second example of perspective is when I watched Vancouver Half Ironman on July 3rd. A race I was scheduled to do but opted out of since having learned my lesson from the aforementioned experience. Therefore my experience was reversed yet equally powerful to reinforcing more perspective.

Arriving upon a race in progress is like watching battery-powered energy bunnies moving purposely in every direction. It is organized chaos that draws you in. What is motivating everyone to move around so much? Let me in! While interested to know who was racing, I was mostly focused on observing body language, postures, facial expressions, leg cadence, shuffling strides or loping gaits, sources of propulsion, attitudes and subtle changes as the race progressed and fatigue set in.

From my trusty mountain bike, post-shower and nourished, I was the smarter of the bunch. Yup, all spectators were. For the few athletes and friends I zoned in on, it was compelling to observe them. A poised posture, quick cadence and good rotation coupled with a high glance says Speed, Power, Fuel, Strength. Conversely, a plodding gait, stiff shoulders and downward line of vision screamed "get me to the finish line, I'm done."

I found myself thinking, "if only they would look up" (your energy goes where your eyes go), "if only they increased their cadence", "if only they stood up instead of collapsing at the hips." And yet, experience is all relative. Maybe those racers felt a Gazelle-like resemblance moving swiftly at personal best speed's. Maybe their leg cadence was twice as fast as it was last year. Maybe this was their very best effort and if so, perspective becomes irrelevant and encouragement becomes essential. By the looks of how many racers finished with arms in the air and big smiles, the experience opened up a whole new world to them. Either way, observing helped me see a new perspective and if by shouting words of tangible encouragement helped just one racer, we all benefit.
I have been told that we must always look up. Where your eyes go, your energy goes. Consider this option the next time you walk into a stop sign while typing on your blackberry.

Next up, Desert Half Ironman, July 10th, 2011

Christine
@chrisy_fletcher

Hawaii Ironman 70.3. A Trip To Cherish

2011-06-08T19:22:00.000-07:00

Outside of being just four short minutes off the win of the Hawaii 70.3 Ironman, this trip was nothing short of perfect. Is it a cliché to say how seductive Island life is and how the climate is so completely conducive to living. In fact, everything about this trip to the Big Island felt like walking through a sanctuary far away from reality, responsibilities and urban big box living.

Upon arrival, the three of us girls (Sarah Strother, Christine Cogger and I) were enveloped by warmth, sunshine, energy and anticipation of race day - Saturday, June 4th. Sarah provided exquisite accommodations at her family’s Keahou villa equipped with a pool, multiple coffee makers, papaya trees, a blender, a BBQ, WiFi and invaluable privacy from everything and everyone. Lounging in her backyard won convincingly over exploring the Hawaiian shops or scuba diving with the turtles. We all vowed to return again for the adventures we opted out of this trip.

The three of us used our 35-mile drives to the equally exquisite race site (The Fairmont Orchid Hotel) to review our individual race strategies, plan our nutrition, consider our race attire and walk through our transitions. Sarah and Christine graciously agreed to join me at the Pro Race meeting at 12p.m. instead of attending their own Age Group meeting at 3p.m. I assured them (over and over) they would blend in, no one would notice, “just come,” I said. How wrong was I. In fact, the complete reverse happened. The Pro meeting was a small group sitting around a boardroom table discussing race logistics for a mere 10 minutes before moving into the politics of professional triathlon racing. They pretended not to mind and were forced to read the race guideline cover to cover.

Wake up time was 3:15 a.m. Departure time was 4:15 a.m. Race start time 7:00 a.m. The entire field of incredibly fit and wiry athletes bolted into the sunrise en masse from the shores of Hapuna Beach. Hapuna is one of Hawaii’s most renowned beaches; known for its beauty, white sand and swimming. Finding Nemo came to mind as we swum over the visible universe of marine life lit by sun rays. Dolphins had accompanied Christine and Sarah’s on Thursday morning during our practice swim but we were pretty sure they would not grace their presence with so many bodies invading their home.

I chose the inside line at the advise of the Kona Aquatics Swim Coach whose attention I caught just before the start. Never without hundreds of bodies around me, I found some clear water and kept my arms turning over at a rhythmic pace. As we were turning the second to last buoy I sighted ahead and caught a glimpse of the beautiful line of swimmers neatly working together to wrap our group around the 1.2-mile circuit. The beach, soft sand, hard concrete and finally a steep hill came all too quickly as we moved from horizontal to vertical in search of our bikes and the second leg of our event. My only focus was to get out of transition and onto the bike course with as much speed and focus as I could.

There was little over thinking before this race. Process, Rest and Perspective were combined to prepare for Saturday. Focus, Quiet Mind and Steadiness were my cues. Focus and steadiness defined my ride. I tapped into an extra gear for the first 30 minutes to catch some of the speedier swimmers but once the climb to Hawi begun, I turned inward and settled in knowing and believing in my pace. The descent was the only place I had a pause to consider gearing. I was riding compact and a 12-25 cassette. On another day, I could have used an 11-23 cassette. I was spinning out and losing a bit of momentum without this extra gear.

Sarah and I caught a glimpse of each other about 75 minutes into the ride. I could only hope that Christine was close by and moving along steadily. The anticipation of hearing about their days was almost a distraction and we weren’t even half way through the race. I had to calm my eagerness to reconnect with them for a few more hours.

Coming into T2 on the Fairmont Orchid grounds was exhilarating. I caught sight of a few gals that I would love to be running ahead of. It gave me a boost that I had ridden up to them and made up ground. The half marathon course was comparable to an obstacle course running straight over the golf fairways (my grandfather, a Golf Pro, would be turning over in his grave), looping us up and around golf cart paths and along a nasty 3-mile false flat road. The culmination of twists, turns and terrain made for slower run times. That’s my story and I am sticking to it.

Not analyzing my energy levels too much was a challenge yet I knew my mental energy was better spent on keeping the legs ticking over. Perseverance and determination themed the run leg for all three of us girls but we all agreed that in the heat of the moment, discomfort, exhaustion and fatigue were at the forefront of our consciousness. While counting my footsteps, my mind would wonder to Sarah and Christine – where were they? Would we see each other on course? Were they having fun? At mile 6, we came through a major artery of the run and Christine and I passed each other running in opposite directions. Chris has near perfect run form - tall, light and compact – which is few and far between. She was also wearing the new Hoka runner, a lightweight minimalist shoe to watch. We exchanged a high five and she shared her precious breath to encourage my effort for the second place gal just 30 seconds ahead.

Sarah would have been easy to spot since she was sporting a colorful new triathlon sports bra and bright pink race belt but we were not meant to cross paths. Instead, I would have to wait to see her smile at the finish line.

The women’s race was close with a few talented age group gals sprinting ahead of the pro’s. In the final mile, I hunted around for an extra gear but there really wasn’t one available. The final stretch was on soft fairway grass and felt like the world was moving in slow motion. I had one gal just seconds ahead of me, 8 to be precise. Although I was gaining, there was just not enough real estate to catch her. I finished up as 3rd Professional Female, four minutes off the win.

The Hawaiian finish line was understated and lush. Without a word to anyone but Greg Welch to acknowledge my salt-caked body and thank the timing chip removers, I carried on through to the massage tables in seek of comfort and a bed to lie down on.

“Christine Cogger from Whistler, Canada” was pumping through the loud speakers within moments of a rub down. We only had time to remove her timing chip and hug in celebration before Sarah came barreling though the finish. They both looked exhilarated and surprisingly fresh. The three of us stumbled out of the finish line chute in anticipation of how to deal with post race emotions and which story to tell each other first. This is the best part of racing. It’s these experiences that we live for. To have this adventure take place in one of the most beautiful places in the world, made it all the more special.

I could never retell the experiences of Christine and Sarah and do them justice although they both had stellar races finishing in the top 15 of their very deep categories. Sarah had visiting the island a few months earlier and rode the course with her husband John. Apparently the winds were howling to the point that even locals were commenting. She and John feared for their lives as the gusts threatened to throw them from their bikes. It’s no wonder that this experience plagued Sarah’s confidence before going into Hawaii 70.3. While the wind did blow on Saturday it was nowhere near the strength of the gust she had experienced during her recon practice ride. As a result, her ride was the highlight save for a slow leak we discovered the next day in her back tire.

Post race can be summarized in the following words: stumble, stiffness, port-o-potties, groans, smiles, celebration, waiting, texting, port-o-potties, giggles, analysis, stories, pride, beer, salt, aloe, texting, bed. I relished hearing about the day over and over again as we reveled in our own game of triathlon trivia.

We had some 36 hours to decompress before a long trek home. It was a trip to cherish and somehow somewhere we will all do it again.

Mahalo.

Christine

Pieces of a Puzzle

2011-05-29T20:45:00.000-07:00

Two girlfriends and myself leave on Wednesday, May 31st for the Honu 70.3 Ironman on the Big Island of Hawaii. As usual, it seems an overwhelming task to pack, especially when there is a plane involved.

The heat and humidity will be a shock to our system. Warm clothing is not what is filling our suitcases. Stuff is. What stuff? And why does it feel like a puzzle to pull it all together? Assembling the pieces that will all fit together on Saturday (and the days leading up to Saturday) is a challenge in and of itself. Isn't the race enough of a challenge? I must admit, however, it is a cathartic process since things get sorted, purged and re-organized for the remainder of the season. Let’s hope.

Walk through this with me.

Let's start with the Garage puzzle. Out must come all the "race gear". Tools are a must especially the ones you think you might not ever need like scissors, zapstraps and really good electrical tape. Race wheels and a spare tire are located. Is the spare fresh, glued and useable? Next, is the time trial helmet still with last year's number glued to the forehead. Also must come my regular helmet since I refuse to ride around town in my TT helmet prior to race day. It’s a thing I have - we look like we are from Mars as it is and I try to lessen this image by at least wearing a regular joe helmet until time matters.

The pieces starts to build as I locate my race belt, flasks, elastic bands, markers, ankle chip bands, cycling shoes, runners and racing flats (both must come), wetsuit or speed suit, goggles x 2, swim cap, race kit x 2, visor x 2, sunglasses x 2, flip flops, water bottles x 2, sunscreen, Vaseline and compression socks. Amazingly, these are only what goes into my bike box. Oh and where is my bike box?

Onto my suitcase - an entirely different masterpiece of misassembled and out of season paraphernalia. Truth be told, I pack a ton of fueling and nutritional products. It gives me comfort to know I need not shop for gels and electrolytes before a race. Vitamins, protein powders and whole food bars are stowed in Ziploc Baggies. Salt tablets, Motivators and Chlorella are succinctly separated and sorted into containers. This process gets started a week out from travel day because more pieces will complete this section of the puzzle.

Clothing is a crap shoot. It's the blue sky and white puffy clouds of the puzzle. Casual or semi-non-casual is all I own so pack what I hope will fit the occasions. Shorts, tank tops and flip-flops are staples. In case we do some little training sessions before race day, I need to look the part.

Moving on - technology. Heart rate monitors and all the associated chargers must be carefully stowed in a protected pocket. Blackberry, Cell phones, IPod, IPad and laptop are coming and so do the cords for such essential obsessions. I'll spare you my cosmetic bag only because it contains the least of my worries. I could leave it behind and might not notice. This is a very different attitude for my bike tools and running shoes. My passport, boarding pass, car rental confirmation and race schedule are printed and waiting to be tucked on the top where I can easily find it along the route. Let's refer to travel documents as the bottom of puzzle, the foundation, since without them I am not going anywhere.

With all these pieces in place, the perimeter of the puzzle is complete. It’s those last few pieces in the centre that will come after a restful sleep and clarity of mind. It’s the small things that make a big difference like leaving two pieces out of a puzzle then framing it. Do you think anyone will notice? If they don’t, you will.

I love a good puzzle. My family would sit for hours working away at fitting pieces into a puzzle with only the odd mutter of satisfaction or frustration. Getting ready for race day right through to the finish line is putting all the pieces together. You may try a few misfits and close encounters only to eventually find the perfect fit. The result is the pure fulfillment of completing a true masterpiece.

Christine

0.25 Hours

2011-05-22T07:39:00.000-07:00

Have you seen the biographical adventure film 127 Hours starring James Franco? If not, see it. With nothing but determination to live and embodying a bit of insanity, he cuts off his right arm to free his life from being wedged by a boulder to the side of a canyon wall. This mere act of survival takes place after 127 hours without food, 250 ml's of water and hallucinations that would have left anyone else dead. I was moved by this film. I felt invincible on the one hand yet weak and soft on the other from all the times life has thrown me a curve ball and I buckled. The real life character, Aron Ralston, goes on to survive this experience, savouring precious moments with his family, falls in love and has a family of his own. Nothing was amiss except his right forearm. His heart, mind and soul were/are still intact.

Was this freak of nature the result of overcoming the mental battle? I should say it was indeed. His hallucinations were coupled with powerful visualizations that kept him motivated to live. During the 5 days he is trapped, we see Aron experience passion, excitement, happiness and yearned for human interaction again someday. Through severe blood loss, dehydration and fatigue his mind transported him to new places - swimming with friends, making love, sipping a cold beer, re-enacting a Game Show. This mental transportation seemingly numbed the current reality and sensations that could have prevented another breath.

The day after seeing this film, I had dental surgery. "Ha," I said to my dentist of 35 years, "no need to freeze my gums, pain doesn't scare me." Dr Kay obviously didn't believe me and went on to poke a dagger size needle in my upper left gum. I was weepy and sore for a week.

Come the Oliver Olympic distance triathlon last weekend, I was (as all athletes were) faced with another major challenge: the temperature of the lake water. Nevermind the race itself, it was the glacial temperatures of the water that had me running for the hills. Even writing this makes me feel like a wuss but standing at the race start on Sunday morning, I may have almost opted for a boulder on my arm than to enter the 14 degrees water of little Tuc El Nuit Lake. Spring had not sprung and the algae were floating popsicles.

Damned and determined to stay warm, I wore three bathing caps (including a neoprene) and refused to even dip my toes in the water prior to the Start Gun. A parka, gloves and beanie were waiting for me after the swim (assuming I survived). My plan was to yank, pull and struggle these dry clothes onto my wet body for the bike leg of the race. The race organizer hardly seemed to care that the water was below "normal" temperatures. He was readying the field for the start and giving the last minutes safety tips (was this a joke?). Before my mind would buckle my knees, we were off. The last thing I remember was a friend saying to me, "hope you don't hyperventilate." Yep, okay then.

While I never did warm up, I had the good sense to make light of my petty insecurity about submerging my body in cold water. Was this the worst thing in the world? If Aron Ralston can be stuck in a canyon for 127 hours prior to removing his own arm, I think I can handle 0.25 hours of uncomfortable water flowing through my wetsuit. I think I can.

Once into transition, I had a momentary lapse of reason when I considered riding without my parka, gloves and beanie. I forced myself to stick to my plan and dress accordingly. This did take an additional eternity no matter how swiftly I struggled. I choose warmth over T1 speed and knew it would pay off. I reasoned that a warm body is a fast body.

The rest of the race unfolded as I had hoped. I hunkered into an aero position and never came up for a breather until T2 was in sight. In the lead position and just about to break a sweat (that was how cold the air was), I disrobed to my race suit. Another moment of comedy struck when everyone leaving transition yelled, "I can't feel my feet." Surely 10 km run would take care of that.

With a two loop run course, athletes were able to share in the candy pain and feel the support from the spectators. Tara Lee Marshall and her husband Sean Clarke were hosting a CMS Coaching Training Camp for a handful of their talented athletes. Tara Lee's vocal projection of encouragement went unmatched and she had a serious contingent of athletes to cheer for.

As the finish line neared, feelings of excitement crept in knowing the triathlon season was truly open for play. The swim felt like a distant past. The weather seemed almost pleasant. Thoughts of, "when can we do this again?" jogged around in my imagination. The finish line creates perspective. Accomplishment creates belief.

Aron Ralston's innate capacity to use mental creativity and unwavering determination was/is astounding. He would mock my fear of cold water, as do I (in hindsight).

May we all thrive in our pursuits and seek to find opportunity when initially "it" was an obstacle. Sport gives us the arena to overcome, be great and rise to the challenge. Use your arena today, tomorrow and the day after that.

Next up, Honu 70.3 on June 4th. Shall I rant about the heat next time?

release the brake

2011-05-14T13:48:00.000-07:00

Jasper Blake, my coach and mentor, emailed me yesterday as I ready myself for the Oliver Olympic Distance Triathlon on May 15th. He says, "racing is about releasing the brakes and red lining your effort." Racing is supposed to hurt - candy pain I call it or just another way to say, Let It All Hang Out.

What's amazing is that our bodies do what we tell it to. If we say to ourselves go for it, we always do. If we say, take it easy, we always do. Sometimes when en route to a quality session or key event, I wonder with uncertainty if I can muster energy to reach the upper levels of my fitness. Unless suffering from a virus or under very unusual circumstances, I always find the power, strength and effort. When the session or race is over, I often pause for a moment to remind myself that my fitness and ability was there all along. Our bodies are amazing machines when we let go and let it happen with the mind engaged and the heart's soaring passion.

Tomorrow's race will bring out fitness, endurance, strength, speed and fun. Whether swimming in the lake (just shy of glacial temperatures), pumping the legs past glorious vineyards or jaunting through the back roads of Oliver's neighbourhood, the brakes will be off and the uncomfortable effort will dissipate when all is said and done.

The 7 Success Principles of Steve Jobs

2011-05-13T19:52:00.000-07:00

When listening to an interview with Carmine Gallo, author of The Innovative Secrets of Steve Jobs, I was overwhelmed with hope, motivation and amazement.

Here is a link to an summary of Steve Jobs 7 Success Principles:
http://blogs.forbes.com/carminegallo/2011/01/04/the-7-success-principles-of-steve-jobs/

Enjoy.

exaggerated compliments

2011-05-09T19:21:00.000-07:00

My dearest friend Deanna Wigmore is the maestro behind a blog called A Mother's Tonic www.motherstonic.com. Through her writing and wonderful entries, her followers read about her inner most thoughts - often insightful, sometimes funny, occasionally sentimental but always articulate and intelligent. While educated as a journalist, Deanna has been busy bringing up three beautiful girls and managing her family life for the past 10 years. Thankfully for all of us following her blog she started writing again this year.

Monday's mark the day of the week Deanna features others. This week happens to be me. I am not sure how she convinced me to agree to this or whether her comments are warranted but since it is out there on cyberspace, I will share. http://motherstonic.com/2011/05/09/christine-fletcher-modesty-is-everything-to-this-triathlete/

Figure Out What You Want and Learn How to Ask for It

2011-05-08T19:59:00.000-07:00

I heard someone say this quote today. It struck a cord. It relates to anything - career, wealth, relationships, athletic goals, the list is endless. It was in the context of answering "if you had one piece of advice to give someone, what would it be?" The reply was simple, "Figure out what you want and learn how to ask for it."

For some people, myself included, it's a hard thing to do. Ask for help. Ask for what you want. Put your self first. Fulfill your needs. Be clear about what you want. We are notoriously putting ourselves last in line, second guessing our abilities or our value as individuals. It shouldn't be so. Not because we should all be selfishly thinking of ourselves before others but rather so that when we are authentic, confident and clear on who we are, we can better serve and help others as siblings, partners, parents, friends and work colleagues. I find this insight a powerful reminder and clear the way for positive thoughts and human potential.

My feeling confident and energized in and for sport is a living entity in my life. I yearn for days when energy supply for the demand is ample and the mental focus is sharp and unwavering. When my mind forgets the unanswered emails, laundry to be folded or promises to follow through on, a breakthrough workout inevitably takes place. Amazingly, I return to work, life and responsibilities with more clarity and calmness. There is no magic formula for when and how those moments arise but I'm pretty sure they revolve around times when I am rested, well nourished and have recently shared good times with friends and family. Sunshine doesn't hurt either...

There are a few people in my life that are role models for living a life on purpose because they simply know what they want and are going after it. I welcome their vibrancy and company. On the flip side, I want to send this message to a few others that could be bubbling over with potential and opportunity yet are choosing to build barriers and resentments. May this same message get to them someway, somehow. Figure Out What You Want and Learn How to Ask for It.

The Indoor Thing

2011-04-22T06:55:00.000-07:00

It's almost Spring outside and yet I still find myself rolling into my garage for a few quality hours on my computrainer. Since I am a fairly social being, I am quite certain this practice is not to hide away and train solo staring endless at concrete and a computer screen but rather to get the job done. It won't be long before I am hitting the sea 2 ski highway and cypress mountain with friends but right now I feel the need for focused workouts eliminating the chance of traffic jams, red lights or fowl weather.

Is there a benefit to staying indoors verses outdoors? Maybe but as long as the list is for positives, there is a list of negatives. It's a personal thing right now. The indoor thing is working for me. Maybe the efficiency of being indoors and close to the action is what I need as I find myself more and more engaged in my family business, Sunice. Maybe I like to be available. Maybe I like to be accessible.

I have outfitted my training space with towels, my ipod (loaded with great podcasts and music), water bottles and a workout. For X time, it is my sanctuary to focus on building my engine and revving my heart rate. I have even taken my running indoors. Treadmills give me feedback and consistency. There is no cheating or deviating from the stride. With a plan in hand, I start up the belt and get the feet turning over.

With all of this focused training, I balance it with outdoor spins and jaunts, playful and recovery in nature. The outdoors is where I am most free and alive. Fresh air and blue sky takes me to another level of gratitude. But the indoors is where I find my focus and mental stamina. It is where I zone in on the task, the effort and the sensation. It is where the work gets done.

Maybe someday I will purely ride for pleasure. Right now, there is pleasure plus specific goals and the indoor thing is working for me. Take it or leave it.

Up Tick

2011-04-16T06:11:00.000-07:00

Finally I have had an up tick in my swimming fitness. Geez Louise. Getting 2 seconds from my 100's has been like squeezing a rock for water.

My speed in the pool goes in phases. I am hopeful you can relate. Is it fitness? Is it the other sports we do? Is it the early hours in the pool? Is it technique? Or all of the above. While the exact answer for my fluctuating speed graph isn't totally necessary, life just feels better when my body is moving through the water with ease and fluidity. Swimming 5-6 days a week means the pool and water play an important role in my life.

Tuesday was my "up tick" day. It was also after having a couple of weeks of focusing purely on turning my arms over with power, efficiency and strength instead of focusing on the minute details of high elbow, relaxed hands and perfect head position all of which has given me less speed, less confidence in the water and a bundle of frustration. Technique in swimming is incredibly important and if I could live my life over again I would have included swimming in my sport repertoire as a youngster. Since I was skiing or golfing instead, feel for a golf club or the slopes instead of density of water comes far more naturally to me.

If swimming Masters Competitions was purely my focus, perfecting the elusive swimmers stroke would continue to entice my curiosity. With a bike and run to follow a 2km swim, my stroke needs to be strong, rhythmical and efficient leaving me fresh for the next two thirds of the race. Since turning my attention in my pool workout to "race pace" efforts, high stroke rating and rhythmical turnovers, times are moving in my direction. Funny thing, I am riding and running faster too.

If a swim coach reads this, they will curse my name in vain, I have no doubt. But, if the red needle on the pace clock keeps slowing down (I keep speeding up) then my personalized formula may just be working. Pass it on.

My Promise

2011-04-11T20:05:00.000-07:00

I promised myself I would start writing again on my Blog. It's been so many months and each day that passes makes it easier to avoid. Yet, this is a place to share experiences and pass on my passion for sport and life. I am lucky enough to have triathlon in my life and even luckier to experience it racing with the professional field. Every little workout and thought about sports and preparing to tax our bodies is a chance to learn and improve. We must share in this so we all get better and love what we do more and more.

Of late I have been learning about social media and the power of online communication. Faster than a click we can find out if an athlete won an race, an earthquake hit Japan or what the hottest topic is around the world. Amazing. It has changed the way I think about communication and the relevancy of so many exchanges, in person or online. It has also opened up a new community to me and when respected and purposed, online communication has its own etiquette and do's & don't. Although I am very much a neophite, I am fascinated and committed to delving in more and more. At first I was resistant to following topics related to sports and triathlon. Do I really care what Chrissie Wellington had for breakfast? But I sorted through those companies and people I respect and want to learn from (Chrissie is included on that list of people I respect) and read what I want to and leave the rest.

As I prepare for my racing season ahead of 70.3 Ironman's, I'll be using social media, tweeting about topics and things i think are relevant and hope you will too.

Much more to come and thanks for your patience.

Simplicity

2010-10-25T14:39:00.000-07:00

For the past two months my mental and physical approach to training has been simplified. It is a shift that happened organically. I experienced a moment shall we say just after Ironman Lake Stevens 70.3 that inspired a change for the simpler. It’s hard to explain exactly how it happened but it was a pivotal moment and not really something I was sharing with anyone, until now.

As athletes, we rarely need help from anyone to judge our performance or set unrealistic expectations. The tapes replay and replay until something or someone grounds us and remind us that there is much more to life than sport, results and winning. And, that we are 100% complete with or without extra accolades. Yet, we tend to clutter, evaluate and question. To what end? Is all this questioning and complications vital to athletic improvement? It is necessary to always think and think some more? Somehow, I think not.

Mark Allen consistently relays his message to the sporting community (and beyond) since taping into his own serenity and limitless potential. After studying Shamanism and winning Kona six times, he believes the key to finding your “Zone” is to quiet the mind since even thinking takes energy. He says that during his athletic breakthrough moments his mind would go blank, he would become 100% engrossed in that specific moment completely at peace, uncluttered and ready to unleash a performance that he didn’t even know was within his capacity.

So with one big race left to go – Miami Half Ironman 70.3 (October 30th 2010) – I decided to let go of the “extras” and take one day at a time focusing on each training session, proper recovery and high quality nutrition to back it up. When the training sessions are over, I log it, learn from it and leave it. I structured a routine that was similar each week building on fitness and strength with each effort. Routine meant less thought was required. Routine also had the potential to lead to boredom so it was important to always inject some type of spice to session – a friend, a new route, a slight twist to the session or even a new playlist on my iPod.

The simpler my approach became, the less room it took up in the rest of my life. Train hard, recover harder and move on. Focus on what is important and get rid of the “extras”. For myself, some of the “extras” included rehashing the details about my training sessions with other people. I was tired of talking about it since each chat could turn into articulate evaluation and analysis of, well, me. Boring. And the reality was, all the talking, was not making me race any faster.

Taking a simpler approach comes up in everything. Like jumping in a cold pool at 5:30 a.m. in the morning. Some mornings I can stand on deck for a solid 5-10 minutes pondering the cold hitting my skin and reverberating through my body for the first few hundred meters. I stand there having a good look around, evaluating the situation and questioning how on earth I was going to get in this pool? Three lanes down, however, the eager swimmers were jumping in without even a pause to dip their toe for a quick test of the temperature. They don’t even think about it, they just jump right on in. Kids do the same thing. Simple.

Of course we do need to “think” a little in life so that we can conduct ourselves as competent, functional and organized individuals but maybe shift our thinking to what is fact, what really matters like our integrity and making important decisions. Maybe spend less energy (aka thinking) on judging our selves, questioning our path or evaluating every single move.

All of this has made my lead up to the Miami race intense, focused and very exciting. The work is done, there is no question. I am ready to race, there is no question. The sun will rise and fall each and everyday, there is no question.

Christine

Indigo Patch

2010-10-02T19:05:00.000-07:00

Any triathlete that follows triathlon news or reads the odd Slow Twitch article or occasionally checks on race results has likely heard about Matt Dixon and his coaching business called Purple Patch.

purplepatch noun: A period of excellent performance, when nearly everything seems to go right, work properly, and is in perfect balance. Everything seems to fall into place and flows, making it seem like you cannot do anything wrong.

Personally, I love it. Not only has Matt defined his company with the epitome of athleticism, his business name is the holy grail of every single triathlete (and many other athletes) out there. Brilliant. Furthermore, he is delivering on his motto. 100% of the Purple Patch athletes (we hear about) have improved their performance dramatically. From Luke Bell, Chris Lieto, Lindsay Corbin, Meredith Kessler and umpteen age group athletes, they are seemingly all spending time in the Purple Patch.

While I am not under Matt Dixon’s guidance, I have read a fair amount about his coaching philosophy and his definition of the essential pillars for executing a stellar performance. Much of the Purple Patch belief system is founded upon optimal recovery practices, boasting superior metabolic health and having tremendous functional strength. Anyone can train hard but only the savvy few can recover and get stronger, believes Dixon. The message is simple: Be amongst that savvy few who recover from the training only to show up fresh for the next session. Sounds so simple yet athletes are constantly on the bubble with toothpicks holding their eyes open. I aspire to be amongst the fresh, ready, excited and motivated athletes that execute on race day and perform to their potential.

I have decided to call my patch the Indigo Patch. Sounds corny, I know, but it means something to me and is defined similarly to Purple Patch but with my own slant and meaning. It’s good to be unique. It’s good to have character in wacky and inexplicable ways. Just the words Indigo Patch make me smile. Maybe you’ll come up with your own patch, call it the Passion Patch or Chill Patch. Who knows and who cares? If your Patch is meaningful to you and illustrates excellence, health and vitality, you’re golden.

Stress really is a killer. No one is immune to the potential health risks associated with stress or the discomfort and anxiety caused by stress. Stress interwoven with guilt, worry or panic is an emotional, spiritual, and physical state of dis-ease. And yet, we all experience so much stress in our lives. Work, relationships, training, travel, bills, deadlines, commitments to others, shopping, organizing, the list of stresses are endless and the repercussions are rarely evident until it is too late. When it is too late, our bodies are in a state of metabolic unhealthiness. Our hormones are out of whack and our adrenal system stops cleansing our vital organs and unavoidable fatigue sets in. If you’re nodding your head - suffering, confused, unmotivated, lethargic then you have steered off course from your Patch and need to focus solely on rejuvenating your body and your soul. Find your Patch. Hang out there and rest until all systems are a-go and you are metabolically and emotionally ready to face the world again with gusto. Stress really is a killer but it doesn't have to be with a balance of rest and recovery with you in the driver’s seat.

Interestingly, tt’s been a month since I last wrote. Stress kept creeping into my life and distracting me from having the "presence of mind" I need for a decent journal entry. Where did all this stress come from you may ask? I'll make it brief since I do realize my life is not so special in the "Stress" department. In fact, I'm sure the Troops in Afghanistan would hazard to call my "stress" something quite different.

Here it goes just the same. Two races in One week – 24 hour Relay at Mont Tremblant and Ironman Syracuse 70.3 in New York – both of which required significant logistics, travel, multiple beds, meals on the fly, erratic sleeping patterns, work on-goings, performance excitement and, of all things, the arrival of a new baby girl (my niece) into our family on the last day of my road trip. The action and excitement was thrilling but almost tipped me over edge when trying to hang out in my Indigo Patch. More than once did I say to myself, “Be in Your Indigo Patch. Just Be There.” My motivation for being in the Patch was simply for others. I wanted to be an enjoyable person in the company of friends and family despite my swirling anxiety. On my last day, I yelped at my mother while she was driving like a tourist in her own city. She and I were both in a field of overgrown weeds and rattle snakes.

The 24-hour cycling event was every bit of stress worthwhile, times ten. Heck, I met Phil Ligget in the flesh at the opening party. Our 10-man Team Sunice had a deluxe campsite with an RV, designer chairs to lounge in, a stainless steel grandfather of BBQ's, a campfire, and a mobile massage therapist. I had the good fortune to ride the opening and closing laps for our team. Performance or final placing was clearly not a priority for our Team. I have since warned them that next year will be a different story and each one of those guys needs to invest in a Specialize Road Bike. The highlight was, of course, seeing my brother ride a road bike and witnessing the infectious camaraderie amongst everyone as a result of doing a ridiculous number of laps around a 4 km course with an 18% climb each lap for 24 hours.

Syracuse, New York was next on the itinerary as the destination for a 70.3 half-ironman race on September 19th. Having arrived four days before the race. I had loads of time to get to know the course and race setting. While I have no desire to return to Syracuse, the race brought out over 2000 participants. Goes to show how many people are concentrated in the State of New York. Race day was rainy, gray and very foggy which played havoc on the bike but inconsequential on the run. I placed 7th amongst the Professional Females and prided myself on excellent execution. But there was no time to celebrate. My sister-in-law was about to have her third baby and I needed to get back to Montreal.

Raphaelle was born at 9:20 p.m. that same night. She was perfect, healthy and 100% in her Patch of bliss. Sleeps, eats, poops, cries, stares and does it all over again. What’s her secret in effortlessly finding the elusive Patch? I want more of what she has. Goodness knows her parents won’t have much Purple or any other color Patch going on in their lives for a few years.

Once boarded the Vancouver-bound plane, I was in no hurry to do a whole lot of anything until the earth moved me. Sleep, rest and patience were my Modus Operandi. This would prove to be the yellow brick path to my Indigo Patch. Meet you there.

Christine

Photo's of 24 Hour Relay at Mont Tremblant, Sept 11-12th

2010-09-14T18:01:00.000-07:00

Mark Fletcher on a Road Bike!

Passing over the Chip to the next rider

Team Sunice Campsite

CF getting a needed push from Dad

Most of the dedicated Team Sunice Members

Jackie Fletcher & Auntie Chrissy

Planning to be Spontaneous

2010-08-30T20:38:00.000-07:00

My brother, Mark, emailed me last week asking if I would consider joining his relay team in the 24HR Velo Charity Event at Mont Tremblant, Quebec on September 11th & 12th - http://www.24hvelotremblant.com/home.html. My immediate reply was “Thanks for the offer but too bad I can’t come. I’ll be racing Ironman Muskoka 70.3 on Sept 12th.” Thinking my race is much more important since it has been on my schedule for the entire year and my travel and accommodations are booked, it took Mark no time to reply with “Why don’t you skip Muskoka?” Our friend, Steve Lafave, was copied on these emails and chimed in with “We’ll even let you ride an extra 90 km’s for the heck of it!” My heart sunk. Don’t they get it? Don’t they understand how important this race is to me? Don’t they comprehend all the time and training it takes to be at one’s best on September 12th in Muskoka? Obviously not if they think I can just “skip” it. Geez. A few more emails were exchanged between the three of us - how much fun it would be for Chrissy to be the Ringer and how irrelevant Muskoka is in the grand scheme of this new option and how could I pass up riding for 24hours. After ten long deep calming breathes, I finalized our string of emails with “Let me look at the calendar…” Feeling somewhat descended upon and under valued off I went to check the calendar of Ironman 70.3 events that might make sense both from a geographic and timing standpoint.

Decisions, options, opportunities (whatever you want to call them) like these always perplex me. Maybe it is because I am a planner and like to know well ahead of time what, where and when something will happen. Maybe it is because I like the idea of spontaneity but actually need time to adjust to a significant change of plans, making the outcome not terribly spontaneous at all. The Mont Tremblant event, albeit for a wonderful cause (sick and underprivileged children), would be an impulsive decision and require significant planning to coordinate all the new logistics. Was I up for it? If I jump ahead a month, a year, a decade, would I regret not having participated? Or should I stick to my initial plan and travel to Muskoka, all of which the logistics are set in place with the organizers and travel agents? Or does it matter which path to trod along? Muskoka or Tremblant? I realize this may sound trite but I am getting to my point.

The harsh reality and honest confession as to why the 24hr Velo event felt like a hiccup in my perfectly laid plans is because I believe this wonderful sport of ours that we cherish and couldn’t imagine living without sometimes blinds us to the world beyond the pool, our aero-bars and our runners. The special interval workouts we do, the articles we read, the athletes we admire, the data we collect, the gear we buy, the food we consume, the early nights we protect, the thoughts of being faster, lighter, fitter, sleeker, or the regimented schedules we follow day-in-day-out all for the illusive goal of crossing a finish line on a specific day in a specific place. On the odd and unusual occasion, I am blinded (says I in jest). No one would protest to how admirable such a past time is. It drives us to be purposeful human beings with a vision and goals all in the name of self-improvement and self-betterment. Soak it up. Life couldn’t get any better.

Or could it? Or could it be enhanced?

In walks an opportunity to derail (soon edited to re-rail) the perfectly laid plans and jump into something only mildly related to the core sport of triathlon. The opportunity is FUN, SOCIAL and ENERGIZED by GREAT PEOPLE and a GREAT CAUSE in a GREAT PLACE. Nothing could inject more energy into the skip in every step. The ripple effect is infectious and carries itself into our every day existence. It might even inject newfound oomph into ones swim stroke, cadence or stride. And if it doesn’t, it really does not matter. Such clarity in decision is a beautiful thing.

Needless to say, my flight has been rerouted to Montreal; I have withdrawn from Muskoka and reworked what was a not so perfect plan after all and my little world feels more vast than before. Within ten minutes of the Team Captain informing everyone I was a new member to the relay team, we had emails a flying across the country with encouragement and spirit.

Although our relay team is very recreational, we really do only play to win. While my aero helmet will be left at home, my lightweight S-Works Specialized Road Bike will be greased and tuned for a smooth and speedy spin on the 11th & 12th. Stay tuned for the post-24 HOUR Velo Report.

And in keeping with my training and racing seasonal plan (some things never change), I did find a great new race to enter just one-week later in Syracuse 70.3 (September 17th). Syracuse is an easy drive south of Tremblant and ideal timing. Isn’t it funny how it just works out every time.

Christine

The Little Jewels

2010-08-13T20:39:00.000-07:00

Lake Stevens 70.3 Ironman is on Sunday, August 15th. This will be my second time racing on this course (last time was on 2007, 6th Pro, 2nd fastest bike split) and I am more than excited to celebrate another day in Lake Stevens. The very first time I rode the course I felt in love with the area: the freshwater lake, the undulating bike route and the lakeside run course. Even better, Lake Stevens is a mere two-hour drive from my Vancouver house. For a big time ironman event, this is a real treat.

The lead up to a key race takes precious and fastidious preparation. I sometimes reserve my enthusiasm for higher priority races since even preparation takes energy and time. Lake Stevens is a high priority race (as are my last two races in September - Muskoka and October - Austin) so if my preparation formula for this event goes well, I’ll model it again for Muskoka and Austin. My motivation is at an all time high and my fitness continues to improve with every quality session. My coach (Paul Cross) and I planned the season well and paced the racing to save some oomph for the latter part of the year.

Preparing for a race is like gathering up little jewels of information to form a powerful cluster. When this cluster is held up to the sun, light beams through. Each jewel in my cluster comes from past learning’s, great books, my coach, other athletes and most often my highest quality training sessions with a focused mind and fresh body.

On a grand scale, my jewels form a bright powerful cluster when I have done everything from trained on the race course, visualized my race plan, practiced swim starts and transitions, prepared my pre-race mental plan as well as my race day mental mantra, packed my equipment and fuel and connected with my motivation to race and passion to soar. I believe I am now living in a diamond field ready as ever for Sunday to come.

I’ll share where three of my bigger jewels (maybe we can call them stones) rolled my way over the past few weeks. Keep in mind, these were not jewels to begin with. They became jewels after I dug, brushed off the soil and polished until they shone.

The first one came from Vancouver Half Ironman on July 4th. I had a less than stellar race and failed to consult my fictitious jeweler prior to race day (figure of speech). My “off” day started with the gun when all I feared was the onslaught of athletes that would be descending upon me during the first 100 meters of the swim start. As soon as we hit the water, I lost focus on the task and was engulfed with fear of punches, kicks and potential lack of oxygen. I relinquished precious minutes to the race by steering off course to find clear water and regroup. Once recovered, I fought hard to swim towards the front of the race but would never recoup the ideal position with the race leaders. For unknown reasons, I held on to this ridiculous drama and replayed the swim start over and over in my mind for the entire race (and then some) wallowing in what was no longer in my control desperately wishing for the past to be different. No suck luck kiddo. Move on.

This experience became an invaluable jewel when I learn how to diffuse the past, take the lesson and let it go. It’s gone. It’s over. It’s only an experience to benefit and grow from. That experience now serves me as a lesson to use for future success. The one key phrase that turned this experience into a jewel was from a great book “During critical moments of execution (i.e. Race Start), focus outside of yourself (external) towards the task at hand.” Standing at a race start, my focus need only be on the destination, keying off of strong swimmers, having a strong kick and stroke to get to the front and sighting for the first buoy. This is a far cry from focusing on the fear inside and what will happen if…

The second jewel came from a training day with my coach Paul Cross at Lake Stevens. Paul is a diamond necklace so even the drive is filled with one nugget after another. On this particular day we spent the first hour practicing swim starts, drafting and sighting in the lake. Paul assumed I had mastered many of these swimming techniques but in fact we both learned there is ample room for improvement. The water portion of the day was almost a wrap when Paul asked me how I normally “kick” to get up to speed. “Kick?” I reply. “Is this a trick question? I kick like I always kick…a flutter kick motion.” After about 10 seconds pause, Paul is aghast that my answer wasn’t “Depending on the day, I’ll use my lethal Whip or sharp Scissor kick motion.” Thus ensued a whole new dynamic to our swim start lesson – learning and executing a whip or scissor kick coupled with a perfectly synchronized arm propulsion. Since, we have practiced this new skill time and time again in preparation for a new evolution of my swim starts. Let’s just say, this new skill is massive gem in my cluster.

The third jewel (and it’s a good one) was sourced from my strength trainer, Eddie Smith of Steve Nash Sports Club. Normally a soft-spoken guy who contemplates much thought before exercising his dry wit or shares any in-depth exercise science knowledge (of which he has plenty). Upon receiving his Canadian Visa (he is from New Zealand), he and some buddies celebrated this news with a few drinks at a local sports pub. Showing on the pub’s TV screens was the infamous Vancouver Half Ironman (see Jewel no. 1) highlighting my not-so-eloquent and very lengthy transition from swim to bike. Keep in mind I was wallowing in my horrendous swim start as though moving forward with a ball in chain locked to my ankle. Eddie takes note of my potential to improve my transitions and bottles this message up until our next meeting that occurred 10 days ago. His first question to me, “Do you practice your transitions?” My face was blank. Another trick question launched in my direction. I began to ramble on about what an “off” day I was having but quickly realized there was no plausible excuse for what he was encouraging…Start To Practice Your Transitions. Fast transitions are found speed without an ounce of fitness required. We calculated that I could have been 20 seconds faster out of T1, which could translate to a lot more in the big picture. Eddie’s observation (and I am forever thankful) spun into numerous transition practice sessions at Kits Pool (in & out of wetsuit is a workout in and of itself), transition visualization, wetsuit modifications (shorten legs for faster removal), and YouTube viewings of fast transitions (5.6 seconds is the fastest one so far). Let us play this out…T1 involves running and stripping, helmet on head, glasses on face, un-rack and physically mount bike (safely) while moving forward. A mere 60-90 should be sufficient. T2 involves racking bike, removing helmet, pulling on socks and shoes, grabbing hat and fuel while starting the first mile. Surely less than 75 seconds should do it. Lake Stevens is a fairly tight transition area so there is no reason for anything other than world-class transition splits. Watch out.

It becomes clear how a cluster of jewels become invaluable for a shiny, powerful and indestructible performance. Anyone reading this will pause to contemplate their jewelery case (or whatever term you want to use). It’s a never-ending evolving string of gems that we get to manipulate, re-position and save for those glamorous events. Sunday is pretty glamorous…to me.

Christine
www.christinefletcher.com

Positive Fighting Spirit

2010-07-10T08:11:00.000-07:00

As I flew back to Vancouver from Montreal after a week off of training while participating in our company’s sales meetings, I’d had ample time to reflect on last weekend’s race, Subaru Vancouver Half Ironman (July 4th). With a 4th place finish that took more mental than physical energy to complete, it’s only the remarkable lessons and the love of the sport that stay with me. It was a gift to race in my home city surrounded by friends, great athletes and world-class event organizers. To see so many victories for my athlete peers relieved my own selfish mental chaos so unnecessarily and inexplicably welling up inside.

Events fascinate me. Events bring people out to see and be seen. Events make people smile, hug, connect and make plans to see each other again. Events stir up emotions, excitement and energy. Last Sunday’s event surely did all of those things and more for all the athletes and many spectators. Personally speaking, my emotions were mixed with excitement and a certain amount of distractions. Perhaps I was seeing too many familiar friendly faces inviting me to idle and chat on the sidelines rather than line up for a swim in the frigid Pacific Ocean water? Whatever the reason for a momentary lack of mental presence on race day, reflection during this past week untangled a few emotional mysteries and I have since dusted off eager prepare for the remainder of the season.

With 10 hours of flying time, my book Girl With a Dragon Tattoo was going to take a rest while I revisited the principles written in the book The Toughness Training for Sports by Dr Jim Loehr. This was an important book for me when I was road racing and continues to offer spot on mental toughness training techniques for the competitive athlete. His principles rely on emotional resiliency, flexibility, strength and responsiveness. If an athlete embodies all of these principles, they will perform with confidence, poise, assertiveness, focus and enjoyment. They will optimize the Ideal Performance State for competition. They will love the battle, never surrender and always always maintain a positive fighting spirit.

In the last chapter of the book, Dr. Loehr summaries seventeen strategies to accelerate the mental toughness process, which resonated deeply with me.

1. Change your thinking to change the way you feel
2. Change the picture if you don’t like the feeling
3. Take full responsibility for what and how you think
4. Practice positive thinking constantly
5. Never think or say “I can’t”; never think or say “I hate”
6. Think empowering thoughts
7. Think humorously to break up negative emotions
8. Think more energetically
9. Learn to keep a here and now focus during competition
10. During critical moments of execution, focus your attention outside yourself
11. Practice strategic visualization constantly
12. Be more disciplined in the way you think about your mistakes
13. Be clear why it’s important to fight. Before the battle begins, make the commitment
14. Use adversity to get stronger
15. Constantly remind yourself to love the battle
16. Use positive brainwashing to break negative mental habits
17. Focus on “Just For Today”…

Everyone would hopefully agree that this list stimulates emotions associated courage, challenge, motivation, presence, focus, confidence and positive energy. Emotions that serve us no matter what we are doing, sport or otherwise.

The book finishes with an extensive list of how competitive sport is a unique arena for a display of mind-body experiences. Competitive sport brings out so much – emotional and physical – which is observable, open and testable yet for the athletes is largely a personal, internal, passionate-driven and courageous experience completely invisible to the public. One of his key points about Competitive Sport that spoke to me was:

“Nowhere is it clearer than in competitive sport that you have to love it. Love the grinding, the searching the pushing, the pulling, the victories, the lessons, the battle itself. And the crazier it gets, the more you have to love it. Becoming the best competitor you can be means loving to compete more than winning. Becoming the best you can be at anything means loving the journey – from beginning to end.”

Five O’Clock is the Hottest Hour of the Day in Boise, Idaho. Who Knew?

2010-06-25T20:16:00.001-07:00

We expected a frigid swim in the Lucky Peak Reservoir and perhaps mild to warm temperatures for the bike and run segments winding through Boise’s rural to urban district. For heavens sake, the cold weather is all we’ve been hearing about from the Northwestern and Pacific Northwest Regions. Where’s summer? It’s been so cool this year! When will knee warmers become a distance memory? I suppose there is always a chance that racing in June can be cooler and rainy but it’s more fun to hold out for a scorching aired day wearing the bare minimum to stay covered. Such was the case at the Boise race on June 12th – intense winds, blistering sunshine and dry heat.

It wasn’t until I finished Ironman Boise 70.3 with a unique start time of 2:00 p.m. that a local gal (my post race massage volunteer) shared some insider trivia with me, “five o’clock is the hottest hour of the day in Boise!” That explained the afternoon start time (race in heat of day) and why I was caked with salt and felt a little sun stroked. Despite finishing with low-grade nauseous and severe electrolyte depletion, I hung on to the 4th place professional female spot behind World Champion Julie Dibens, Lindsay Corbin and Heather Jackson. I was honored to be on the podium with this stellar field of women and more than content with my race.
My race consisted of a million little breakthroughs that predominantly came together as a result of planning for them. Boise’s unexpected heat, wind and dry conditions got the better of me during the bike and caught up more on the run but never negated the more important breakthroughs. All my tricks of mental mantras and form focusing got me steadily through to the finish line in a respectable 4:42 time. I was only able to jaunt (aka: jog) the half marathon leg and know full well my legs are capable of moving faster than a 1:35 split. The major breakthrough moment came at the swim start when I seeded myself between the key players in the field. My only job was to kick and stroke as fast and as hard as my little legs and shoulders would let me. If necessary I ordered myself to dig deeper to stay with Kate Major and Lindsay Corbin. For whatever the reason, it was executed to perfection and I was deservedly in the mix and stayed there until the finish line.
With two transition’s staged, the athletes were treated to a rural start (T1) overlooking the Lucky Peak Dam gushing with the late spring water run off, navigated through ranches, sprawling roads and along the Boise Greenbelt trail to a very urban T2 & finish in the heart of Boise’s BoDo District. Finishing a race at 7p.m. was somewhat gratifying since only a good meal and the ceremonies stood between you and bed.

With a start time of 2:00 p.m., I am still curious to know what all the athletes were up to for the morning hours. Most triathletes wake at 5:00 a.m. for their first workout of the day so I would imagine most were awake at the crack of dawn to fuss, pack and re-pack their race gear. If anyone has the secret to passing the morning, I’d like to hear it. Fortunately I was devouring my new book, The Help, in gulps and lost myself in the story. Paula Newby Fraser once said in an interview that she would read fiction novels during the week before Ironman Hawaii. She had a good formula to prepare herself for a big race so maybe there is something to reading a great novel. By 11:00 a.m., however, I was antsy to get the show going. And going it did. Once the gun went off, time was completely irrelevant.

With this great race on the books, the rest of the season looks promising. A few half marathons and sprint distance triathlons slotted in around the higher priority events:
July 4th – Vancouver Half Ironman
August 16th – Ironman Lake Stevens 70.3
September 12th - Ironman Muskoka 70.3
October 17th - Ironman Austin 70.3

Word on the street is they are all start at 7:00 a.m. … the coolest hour of the day! Phew.

I’ll close with the prolific poem from the movie Invictus:

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

Ironman Boise 70.3 - 4th Pro

2010-06-24T19:36:00.001-07:00

Warming Up to Book End

2010-05-24T11:53:00.000-07:00

In conversation, the idea to book end a fairly substantial training week with two races sounded beneficial and somewhat do-able. As I attempt to increase my speed and power in all three disciplines of a triathlon, races are opportunities worth my effort and there were two on the cycling and triathlon local schedules at opposite ends of a training camp – dEVa Warp Speed Time Trial (May 9th) and Oliver Triathlon (May 16th).

On May 9th, Britni Bakk and myself signed on for the 20km Individual Time Trial race held in Abbotsford, BC. The roadie scene is very different than the triathlon scene. Road cycling race organizers and riders as far more casual and somewhat unorganized when it comes to coordinating registration, start times and send offs. It became very clear to us that we had ample time (hours!) to warm up and prepare our bodies and our minds for our 20 km time trial.

With a new Playlist downloaded onto my iPod and a structured 45-minute warm up specific to the effort to come, I arrived at the start line more than ready to execute 20 kilometers of effort. It was an assuring feeling that I was not anticipating to experience. After crossing the finish line and allowing my heart rate and breathing to return to a normal state, I realized how grateful I was for the effective warm up and how much it must have helped me execute a near flawless 20km time trial despite my recent training load and complete lack of taper for this race.

My average heart rate for the race was 172, my time was 29:46 and my average speed was approximately 39kph. I placed 2nd in the Cat 1 Elite Female riders division. Y warm up consisted of: 20 minutes endurance easy spinning @ 85-95 rpm – 10 minutes tempo effort progressing from easy to steady state – 2 minutes easy recovery – 6 minutes ramping up steady state effort to just below lactate threshold – 2 minutes recovery – 2 minutes of 105 rpm above lactate threshold to produce, buffer and clear lactate – 2 minuets recovery – 2 minutes of 105 rpm above lactate threshold to produce, buffer and clear lactate and 2 minutes easy. What was interesting was the process of feeling heavy legged at the outset to open and supple at the completion of the warm up. Note to self.

It can feel disconcerting sometimes when an athlete begins a warm up and feels lethargic and fatigued. I am guilty of always wanting to feel great before a training session or race. Rarely do I feel spunky, light and fresh before an event if scheduled as a “training opportunity” instead of an A race. It takes mental focus and calming thoughts to remind myself that my fitness is within and race pace effort is available if properly prepared before the start line. Such was the case at the dEVa Time Trial.

The very next day, Britni and I loaded my car and drive south to Coeur D’Alene, Idaho for 5 days of training on the Ironman Coeur D’Alene course. While her focus is the Ironman distance and mine is the half-ironman distance, we coordinated our schedules to train together 90% of the time. We compounded four big rides with short runs, pool swims, early nights and movie watching. Coach Paul was checking daily to keep me focused on the bigger plan as well as sending reminders about where I needed to be mentally – focused, calm and uncluttered. He and I had some of the best coach-athlete correspondence during my week away.

Two great quotes he sent me will surely resonate with more than a few people out there (if not, I envy you):

"The sum of a man's problems come from his inability to be alone in a silent room."
Blaise Pascal

"Doing nothing is better than being busy doing nothing."
Lao Tzu

Just as Britni and I were finding out groove and seeking out all the great spots to train, it was time to pack the car and head north-east to Oliver, BC for another speed and power seeking opportunity – The Oliver Triathlon, Sunday, May 16th (Olympic & Sprint distances). This is where things got interesting…

We were both feeling energized and confident from the past few days of quality training. Sunday’s race seemed ages away. Waking on Saturday was a different story altogether. This was our supposedly “taper” day - the day we cocoon, rest, eat, nap and recover from the training. No such luck. We were facing a four-hour drive, registration, race preparation and new hotel. Our bodies were rejecting these demands and craving a deep tissue massage and protein shake. The only salvation was that we were in it together and could encourage one another along the way.

Once back in Canada and within cell phone range, we called Coach Paul on the in-car Stereo System Bluetooth to discuss a pre-race plan. We really wanted him to know just how lethargic we were feeling and how this idea to book-end a training camp with two races may not have been the best idea after all. Paul would have none of such chatter and forcefully encouraged us to get out for a ride and wake up our bodies before they went into hibernation mode. We needed to keep the blood flowing to our muscles and get our heads prepared to endure the discomfort coming our way in 24 hours. I can say for certainty that there was no way I was planning to ride had we not spoken to Paul. Movement of any sort was not a welcomed concept. We did as we were told and both felt better after a spin and conceded that it was the best thing we could have done.

The second major coaching guidance Paul gave us (me especially) was to get in a solid 45 minute warm up before the race. My internal voice said, “ 45 minutes? Are you kidding me? That’s almost a workout?!” Paul could hear the lethargy in my voice and needed me to understand the importance of revving my engine before the race. It was the only way to get the body and mind where they needed to be after such a big training week and long drive. He said it was essential that all the muscles were firing and blood was flowing before the gun went off.

So there I went, an hour before the start, rolling along the racecourse on my Specialized Transition bundled in my warm up clothes attempting to find the Zone during a 25 minutes spin. As racers were filing into transition and the energy was mounting, I had enough time for a jaunt and really get that warm and fuzzy feeling. I sprinkled in a few striders and drills but nothing felt remotely pleasing or reassuring. I found myself asking, “What else do I have in my mental tool kit to muster up a fiery aura?” The answer: Autopilot Mode.

Once suited up in my wetsuit and seeded amongst an aggressive group of male triathletes, I flicked the “Autopilot” switched and let any thoughts or judgments fall by the wayside. Anything other than purity was worthless to me. Yes, it would hurt. Yes, it would be uncomfortable. Yes, the “fun” part comes after the finish line. Now was not the time to think. Now was the time to GO HARD and focus on the present moment. Now was the time to go Autopilot. Seems to work every time.

All 300+ athletes swam 1.5 k, biked 40k and ran 10k with best efforts and gratitude for being able to test our fitness and challenge ourselves. Crossing the finish line in two hours and fifteen minutes, I knew gave my best effort and found a rhythm, a flow and the fiery pulse I was after that morning. The bonus of the day was finishing a first female in the Olympic Distance and Britni finishing 2nd in the Sprint Distance race. She and I bonded instantly over our mutual satisfaction that we can now really call it a wrap and focus on recovering from the last 7 days…right after our 5-hour drive home.

Coming back to the beginning of this tale, it turns out it was a good idea to book end our training camp with races and the results were a bonus. But the real lesson was realizing that preparation for both races and the training session were my salvation. Firstly, Paul had my training very well laid out prior to my travelling dates so I was mentally prepared for the hours and efforts ahead. Secondly, my warm ups before the races and each session made a tremendous difference to every performance.

My understanding of an effective warm up (with or without lingering fatigue) has shifted significantly. I now understand the importance of truly preparing for the main event. No one is excluded from the benefits of a proper warm up. If slowly increasing blood flow to muscles, opening capillaries and increased body temperature means more oxygen is being delivered to the muscles and better performance while exercising, lets all sign up for this protocol. Studies also show that a proper warm also prepares our minds for the upcoming work and in turn improves technique, skill and coordination. We ready ourselves for discomfort and offer up the willingness to endure the energy expenditure. If the mind is willing the body will follow.

The whole idea is to get an edge. Sometimes it takes just a little extra something to get that edge, but you have to have it. If it means adding a proper warm up to your protocol, it’s a small sacrifice for a significant edge.

Christine

Free Speed - May 1st, 2010

2010-05-02T16:45:00.000-07:00

My massage therapist believes we carry our “stuff” in our bodies: hips, shoulders, jaw, stomach and ankles. I admit that she has the uncanny ability to ask seemingly unrelated yet accurate questions to the fairly straightforward reason why I am visiting her. “How’s your communication with others these days?” or “Is there something you are not talking about with a loved one?” Is she suggesting that I am controlling my life by thrusting my shoulders up to my ears, clenching my jaw and holding my torso taut, which inevitably results in compensations elsewhere? Am I working through any emotional crisis with my hamstring glute attachment? Perhaps, but surely my muscles are not only tight because of unresolved emotional issues in my life. Surely my weekly training hours have something to do with the restriction in my hips. Surely.

It’s like when my yoga instructor is twisted into a pretzel, breathing calmly and giving methodical instructions to follow suit, I think to myself, “Now there’s a demonstration of authentic control and true freedom with mind and body.” My next thought (isn’t my mind supposed to be quiet?) shifts to the diligent practice she maintains on a daily or hourly basis, leading to body awareness, serenity, freedom and power…traits we all aspire to embody. Interestingly, to possess such admirable traits doesn’t cost a dime. It’s free.

Where is this all going? Allow me to explain. Of late, I have been exploring how to gain more flexibility in my body (and hopefully my mind) so that I can tap into a wider range of motion and carry on in life with a poised posture and long healthy limbs. My body (or is it my mind?) likes to hold tension in the front of my shoulders and chest area (pectoral muscles), my hip flexors, my hamstrings and my glutes (actually it is my piriformis but who needs technical terms?). During infrequent moments of muscular release I experience newfound freedom and what I call “free speed” in swimming, biking, running and in life. It is no different than when we watch children play. We admire their multi-directional freedom and Gumby-like agility. They can butt kick like no adult I know. Maybe this level of nimbleness will never return in its entirety but we can certainly improve flexibility, range of motion and reach with functional practice.

With my new focus on Half Ironman distance, I need more speed to be competitive with the pro field. Girls are running low 1:20’s off the bike and closing the gap on many pro men. My coach, Paul Cross, has astutely reduced the density in my workouts and increased the emphasis on speed, strength and quality efforts to address this need. Long gone are the 6-hour LSD bike rides with a 45-minute run, thick swim workouts and diesel engine runs. Instead, you will find me working the 50’s in the pool with some drills before and after, hammering out short stints of 15 seconds to 10 minutes on my computrainer (in my garage) or at the track learning how to execute a few fast 400’s.

Racing is often the best way to tap into our upper effort levels and gain a step up in fitness. Upping my fitness is always something I will look for. As luck would have it, my schedule allowed me to jump into in a half marathon race in Montreal, Quebec (April 19th) as well as a Sprint Triathlon in Delta, BC on (April 24th) for quality speed sessions. My half marathon was two minutes off my PR with a time of 1:25 and first-place finish in my division. The Sprint Triathlon was also a success with an overall win. Both experiences had me working uncomfortably hard and inspired me to ponder the concept “Free Speed.” It may sound like a short cut but once you understand the concept, it is the smartest way to get faster.

No one better to bring this up with than Coach Paul Cross (PC). PC and I discussed “Free Speed” at length, what exactly the term meant and whether it was a worthy pursuit. We know that my training will continue to focus on upper threshold workouts and develop new energy systems, neither of which is “free.” In fact, training in and of itself is costly in terms of recovery, fatigue, time and effort. So, where else do we go for low-cost gains? Where does Free Speed come from? Likely many places but in my case, Efficiency in Form & Equipment Fit & Function.

Efficiency in Form. Could it be that efficient form equates to a more powerful movement pattern? Could it be that efficient form requires flexibility, range of motion and body awareness? Does this mean we need to slow down to learn form in order to speed up once habituated? Could it be that when fitness and form come together, we gain “Free Speed”? Who knew? Free speed doesn’t come from fitness, it comes from efficiency in form. As we move through our activities with less energy demand, we will eventually move faster after practice and integration. We use gravity and our amazing levers to execute a movement pattern that is sleek and functional.

Equipment Fit & Function. In triathlon, the bike leg can make or break your race. It is typically the longest segment of the race and also sets us up for the run. Being at one with the bike is critical. Being positioned comfortably with optimal angles, heights, bends and reach is essential for your bike and run legs. Optimal positioning on the bike definitely equates to “Free Speed.” Again, no fitness gains required.

The Free Speed Execution Plan

In order to put these revelations into practice, PC and I are devising a Free Speed Execution Plan. For starters we are meeting at the track on a weekly basis for some drill work and video analysis. We are fine-tuning my “lean,” knee drive, toe-off and arm swing. Did you know that a proper lean in running is free speed? Did you know that having your elbows at 90 degrees or less is free speed? The list goes on and on.

We are also spending endless hours in my garage tweaking my bike fit for maximum power recruitment coupled with optimal comfort and aerodynamics. We discovered a small shift in saddle height (up) and aft adjustment resulted in dramatic output gains. We shortened the reach to the aero bars, which reduced tension in my arms and upper back. Any newbie would know this equals Free Speed.

I’ll share a link to a video analysis of my run and PC’s comments.
http://www.upmygame.com/watchv/3546/0/

In an email to me, PC writes: “you need more hip flexor range of motion... which... affects the forward swing phase... which affects your angle of attack... which affects your foot strike and makes you have a heel strike...as a result...you're running as a quad dominant runner... rather than really using your hamstrings and gluts to their full potential...” As I pulled myself out of the gutter, he writes “don't get me wrong...you are running great now compared to where you were...and that's all we can ask really...I think most of these gains have come from fitness and training... perhaps 70%... and the other 30% from improved technique/form...so it's actually good news...because you have a good amount of potential to still go in terms of your form...” Phew. I was almost over the edge. And I know that all the little tweaks in form and function are free speed.

Who doesn’t like free stuff?

This is an exciting phase in my athletic career with gratifying workouts and recorded fitness gains. The Free Speed tweaks will not be the only reason for any further progress in my fitness but it’s nice to have a few deposits for just showing up.

Christine

California 70.3 (March 27th 2010) It's All About the Swim

2010-03-27T16:44:00.000-07:00

Spending any length of time in Carlsbad, San Diego is a seductive and surreal experience. As I rolled along the Pacific Ocean during a few final pre-race prep rides watching hundreds of surfers hop out of their pick-up trucks with their boards neatly tucked under their armpits, sporting muscular defining wetsuits on their sleek bodies, letting their shaggy bleach blond hair bounce freely and “BFR” (bare foot run) to join the other neoprene floating angels already waiting for the Wave, I asked myself, “Is this life real? Is this kind of perfection in weather, fitness options, lifestyle options, yuppie treats, free spirits, and glorious views conducive to living a purposeful and productive life with both feet planted firmly on the ground? Don’t we need to suffer more before we deserve such luxury and good fortune day in day out?” I would hazard to guess many of those surfer-dudes don’t spend an ounce of energy weighing their worth prior to enjoying a good wave. Note to Self, I say. Write it in pen: “Live the Moment, Focus on Now, Life is a Journey not a Destination.” I hate clichés. But all too often, they hold truth and power and I must confess, I used them all day long on Saturday, March 27th.

With the guidance offered by Bobby McGee’s book “Magical Running” (as summarized in my last Blog entry), I was feeling anchored, prepared and keyed up for Saturday. Britni Bakk and her husband, Warren, were my travel partners. Britni was racing in the 40-44 age group and gunning for a Kona slot. Her chances were almost 100% based on her exceptional fitness and track record at Oceanside. I was equally anxious to see her race and hopefully celebrate her journey to Kona. Britni and I have spent so much time together training and traveling to races that we calm, encourage and inspire each other. We bring out the best performances possible in one another and freely share our experiences, good or educational. Warren is the rock in her life (and visa versa) and serves as mine too during our racing excursions. Being in their company is always energized with laughs and respect. Their companionship made my experience and ability to hone my mental focus possible. One only hopes to return an ounce of such generosity.

With our prompt arrival at 5:00 a.m. on race morning, we witnessed athletes streaming into transition like a party was about to start. The announcer was promising a pristine day of sunshine, a cool ocean swim and a high of 73F by midday. My focused was on my bike set up, body marking, warming up and peeling on my wetsuit in good time for our 6:43 a.m. swim start.

Like cattle to the trough, the Women Pro were called to the start and allowed to enter by 6:37 for a warm up. Warm up? Warm up in 58F water? No thanks. Myself, Sam McGlone, Michellie Jones and Leanda Cave smartly conserved our body heat and waited until the last second to splash towards the start line some 200 meters away. Even then we had 2:00 minutes to tread water in anticipation. I found a nifty position (after visualizing my speedy start for the past 24 hours) right on Sam’s heels and only assumed I would stay with her for the entire swim. No such luck. I’ll need to visualize harder next time and gotta-wanna even more. Within the first 400 meters, the pack was split and I found myself in a pack of five swimmers. My stroke felt fast, strong and efficient through the water but upon exiting I glanced at the clock and saw that my time was the same as previous years. It’s all about the start in these swim. Note to Self.

California 70.3’s transition is no short jaunt. From the shore to our gear, the athletes run half a km down and back through the 2,500 racked bikes. If all goes well, you will re-establish some sense of equilibrium by the time you are ready to mount your bike. I was aiming for a sub 3:00 min transition time. Final time: 3:05. Darn wetsuit cuff was glued to my calf and those extra tugs cost a few precious seconds.

Triathletes, runners, and cyclists participating in races are blessed with a guided tour through beautiful landscapes and roads completely uninhibited by traffic. The California 70.3 race is rich in history with its surrounding communities and prides itself on a well-established relationship with Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton and its Officers. The bike course loops through and around the Base Camp into areas normally close to public access. The course is technical and curvy for the first 40 miles then rolls over 3 major hills before a long flat straight-away back to the harbor and T2. My new Specialized Transition Pro was performing well. As the operator, I felt in control and strong, focused on efficiency and maintaining exceptional aerodynamics. Together, we worked hard to make up five minutes and pull into the lead group of gals. We bettered our time by one minute from last year having ridden the best we could after a solid winter of indoor riding and enduring minor distractions from small events such as the Winter 2010 Olympic Games in our hometown, Vancouver, BC. Our best effort was put forward and that was all we could ask for. We agreed to work on strength and power and use this as benchmark for more quality training and measurable improvements.

Coming into T2, the sun was beaming bright and we were in for a glorious sun-baked half marathon. Again, it is a country mile down and back through transition as we awkwardly run beside our misbehaving bikes with our clipped in shoes flailing around uncontrollably. As planned, my T2 was lightening fast. A quick yank of the racing flats sans bas (a trial) and I was over the timing mat in under 1:45 minutes. My first two miles felt light and quick – under 6:50 min/miles, but I knew a pit stop was in my near future. It was not urgent but it was necessary. Come mile three I dashed off course to make things right. While doing so, I surrendered two spots and only assumed I would make them back and more. With waves of strong energy, great rhythm and a high stride rate, I was covering some ground. I reeled in a few of the very fast swimmers and cyclists but not as many as I would have liked. Thanks to the winter strength work, my run form and carriage felt more in tact than in previous races. Coming into the last two miles, pain crept into every muscle fiber and cell. The exertion had caught up to me, physically and emotionally. No amount of Gatorade, Coke, Gel or cheering crowds would reverse my desire to end this effort and output. The final turn towards the finish line is always bittersweet. This time was no different. Sprint to finish. Pain to Glory.

My time was 4:47. 14th Female Pro. A personal PB at California by 7 minutes. An excellent benchmark for an early season effort. Best of all, my race execution went as planned with the exception of finding faster feet in the swim. My mind was focused and clear of clutter. My focus was narrow and directed at getting to the finish line as fast as my best effort possibly could. It’s a good feeling to finish a goal race knowing that you gave it your all and that, come next time, performance improvements are possible based on more practice, more awareness and the lessons taken from the previous experiences.

Britni was second in her Age Group (40-44) and snatched an Ironman Coeur D’Alene spot where she’ll undoubtedly qualify for Kona. She and I plan to spend a few days in Coeur D’Alene this Spring to ride the course and get her dialed for a solid Ironman race on June 22nd. Next on my race calendar is a half marathon in Montreal on April 18th, followed by a sprint Duathlon in Penticton on May 8th. These shorter races are geared to improve my speed and power. We’ll compliment these races with strength session and specific functional muscular recruitment drills (need a dictionary? I did.) We’re planning for PB’s all season long.

Christine

Visualizing Magical Experiences

2010-03-21T20:05:00.000-07:00

It is one week out from the first race of the season, California Ironman 70.3. This large scale WTC event takes place in Oceanside, San Diego, routing the 2,000+ lucky racers along the Pacific Ocean Coast and through Camp Pendleton Navy Base (otherwise not open to public). This will be my fourth year racing at Oceanside but my first year with more specific half ironman fitness. Every year is a new experience but two aspects seem to remain constants: the ocean water is salty and crossing the finish line is forever gratifying (I can already taste and feel both…).

In my lead up to this race as well as in preparation for my season and half ironman racing goals, I was encouraged to revisit the mental aspects of my training and plunge a little deeper into this crucial and equally important component of racing and performance. It took little persuasion for me to delve in.

However, when you have not been doing something (aka: relaxation therapy, visualization, etc) on a conscious level with time set aside to specifically focus, it can be a minor hurdle to begin the process and to even know what is the first step. It’s so easy to procrastinate and find other things to do in place of mediation and writing out thoughts, feelings, sensations and experiences. All this stuff requires a presence, an “in the moment” mentality and deep look inside stirring around for all that needs attention. Who wants it? But, as I have recently noted, crawling through this tunnel towards the dim light at the other end is an interesting journey and warrants much more regular attention. Plus, they say it gets easier with practice and much less daunting.

Of late, my favorite reference for mental preparation and conditioning is Bobby McGee’s “Magical Running” (www.bobbymcgee.org) Even though it mainly focuses on the running experience, it can be applied to any sport, most easily triathlon. It takes the form of a progressive workbook dedicated to the magical experience (spiritual, emotional, mental and physical) of running and performance execution. Bobby emphasizes the process with little to no emphasis on the outcome or results. He teaches us to prepare the mind and thus the body for an ideal performance state prior to any training session or race.

The Chapter that gripped my attention, being seven days away from a race, is “Visualized Running, Seeing Yourself Run and Race Successfully.” Very simply put, visualization is to “see” how you achieve dream levels of sport by imagining the performance through the use of all your senses.

Bobby quotes some wonderful excerpts from top-level athletes. One in particular made the hair on my arms stand straight up. Bruce Fordyve, 9-time winner of the Comrades marathon (South Africa), shares, “So, two weeks before race day, I saw myself on 45th Cutting (a steep 5 mile hill to finish). I planned to strike there and get away from any pursuers. In my mind I pictured, heard and smelt the car exhaust fumes, the crusty sweat of my cheeks, sore stiff legs. I could hear the hysterical yelling from the crowds lining the narrow corridor that remained for the runners. I visualized what was required. What I imagined was an almost imperceptible but smooth increase in pace, the faltering of my pursuers and the gradual realization that I had stretched and then snapped the umbilical chord between myself and the rest of the field. On race day, an eerie déjà vu swept over me. I had been there before, it was happening just as I had planned it.”

Clearly Bruce had played this movie many times before in his mind. He planned for the feeling, sight, sounds, taste and touch of each move. He credits much of his victories to his mental preparation and successful visual cues and sensations.

Bobby outlines the key points for visualization:
· Visualize in the past tense. Believe you have already achieved the performance.
· Focus on action and process, not outcome. Flow, efficiency, balance, coordination, effortless, relaxed, rhythmical, etc.
· Form a routine to practice visualization (x minutes / week).
· Aim high and be realistic.
· Visualize in real time. If visualizing a mile, take the time to visualize every step of the mile. It may take x minutes to complete the exercise depending on how fast you want to run the mile.
· Always “see” success. Expect the best, prepare for the worst.
· Visualize from your true vantage point: inside yourself. Be the participant, not the spectator.

When I have successfully used visualization before past races, using all my senses has proven to be a very effective way to ensure that come race day, the experience is familiar. And don’t we all like familiar? Smell, taste, touch, sight and sound are equally influencing our minds and physiological response to potentially high stress circumstances. The smell of suntan lotion on the athletes in transition, the taste of my sports drink, the feel of the water temperature or light morning breeze, the sight of spectators, officials and athletes during the last lap of the run, the sound of the announcer’s encouraging voice coming through transition. If you play this movie over and over, come race day, you’ve seen it before through a positive, successful and familiar lens.

The Visualization Chapter also covers the process of clearing or de-cluttering the mind to perform, a step that many people many overlook not realizing how distracted they are with “stuff” in the life – bills, responsibilities, duties, etc. Various techniques are used to clear the mind and find focus for the task at hand. For example, you may share with trusted individuals who will listen unconditionally and/or you may list very specific responsibilities that you need to get done in the future and promise yourself to return to this list as soon as the task at hand is accomplished. The result is gaining control of your thoughts and creating calmness and space to unveil the performance for which you are prepared.

As goal driven athletes, we typically have lots going on in our minds and only feel gratified by doing something (or many things). Clearing the mind is a skill that requires practice similar to pedaling a bike, swimming a stroke or running a step. Note to self…

So in my last seven days before the race, I’ll be visualizing a successful race in California, tapping into all my senses and becoming more and more familiar with the movie that will play next Sunday. Of course, defusing past experiences (in the event they were negative) and removing any resistances are essential steps in the visualization process. Recognizing that the past is over and letting go is absolutely necessary to move forward with new and positive thoughts. With this freedom, the mind is allowed and open to focus on the race, the goals and the pre-recorded movie about a successful performance.

I’ll finish by sharing one more quote by Bobby in an article he wrote on his Blog called, “Effective Mental Training”. He says, “Self confidence comes not from success, but from an intimate knowledge of your own ability and being able to access that ability whenever you choose to.” Re-read this quote a few times and it will settle in with your true self and a renewed perspective on how great you are as an athlete and individual.

Christine
www.christinefletcher.com

The Athletes Come to Town

2010-02-06T20:54:00.000-08:00

I, officially, have the Olympic fever. In six short days, Vancouver and Whistler will welcome over 2,200 of our world’s finest “winter sports” athletes to compete in the 2010 Winter Olympic Games. Despite knowing for a few years that Vancouver won the Bid, it has only been in the past few weeks that my own proximity (and accessibility) to this once in a lifetime event has begun to resonate. With little effort, I find myself trying to absorb every Olympic-related publication, news report, Pod cast and TV show highlighting athletes, the sports and ongoing celebrations.
It’s not like I ever dreamed of being an Olympian or obsessed over a specific Olympic sport or athlete. I am in awe of some pivotal athletes that broke world records, overcame adversity and performed under the microscopic eyes of millions upon millions spectators. And even more awe striking are those that crashed out on their one chance and were forced to prepare for another four years to showcase their finely tuned skills and athleticism.

I’d be at it all day if listing all the Olympic moments that we Canadians may be most proud of. I can name two more recent athletes that have impressed us and stolen our hearts: Cindy Klassen and Clara Hughes. Cindy (Speed Skater) won five!! medals in Turin and another one at Salt Lake establishing a new career record for a Canadian. Clara’s versatility, or should I say seasonality, is beyond astonishing (she owns two bronze medals for cycling from 1996 and a bronze, silver and gold for speed skating from 2000). David Pelletier and Jamie Sale’s composure during the Russian judging scandal in Salt Lake 2002 when they were forced to share a gold medal showed their true love for skating and ability to rise above. I’d be remised not to mention the likes of Elisabeth Manley, Nancy Greene, Eddie the Eagle, Ken Read, Catorina Le May Doan and our Hockey Team. From a Canadian perspective, these athletes (and teams) have instilled rich Olympics memories in all of our hearts.

Luge, Skeleton and Bobsledding are three events that mystifying me. While worthy of serious respect, I know very little of the science, training or aerodynamic detail that goes into an Olympic performance (and I imagine it’ll stay that way for a while). I do know, however, that the Germanys have the Luge figured out and they’ll be one to watch in a couple of weeks. I have yet to watch the movie about the Jamaican Bobsledding team, Cool Running, but maybe that’d be a good place to start. I also steer clear of curling but I bet if I were from Winnipeg, I’d feel differently. Since I am not, I’ll stick to my favorites: Alpine or Nordic Skiing (cross, combined, biathlon, jumping, or freestyle) and Speed Skating (short track or long track) will have my undivided attention. I’ll tune into Hockey and perhaps some Ice Skating. Regardless, forever will I be awed by all the athletes and their dedication to arrive healthy and motivated for a chance of a lifetime performance and experience in the great venue.

For interest, I’ll share whom (Canadians) I am watching in 2010:
Nordic Skiing: Chandra Crawford, Alex Harvey, Devon Kershaw, and Sara Renner.
Long Track Speed Skating: Kristina Groves, Clara Hughes, Cindy Klassen, Christine Nesbitt, and Jeremy Wotherspoon.
Alpine Skiing: Emily Brydon, Robbie Dixon, Erik Guay, and Britt Janyk

Honorable mentions:
Ice Skating: Patrick Chan (who else?)
Nordic Skiing: Brian McKeever (the four-time gold medalist from the 2002 and 2006 Paralympics will become the first winter-sport athlete to compete in both the Olympic and Paralympic Games). Amazing.

Last year when I raced the Ironman in Lake Placid, New York, it gave me a taste of what’s to come. The IM transitions (Swim to Bike and Bike to Run) and finish line were staged on the 1932 & 1980 Speed Skating Oval (outside in those days) and graced us with unforgettable views of the Ski Jump and Alpine venues. Seventy-Seven years later, the shops were still selling Olympic logo-ed merchandise, including some Vancouver 2010 logo-ed swag. Now that the Games are upon Vancouver and Whistler, what we have been anticipating is quickly becoming a reality. The stages are set: the snow, tracks, jumps, ice rinks, ovals, slides, and half pipes are ready for the best of the best to grace their surfaces with skill and finesse.

In my feverish state, I did some reading on stats. Did you know Canada has won 119 Winter Olympic Medals (38 Gold, 38 Silver and 43 Bronze)? I didn’t. The Soviets have own 1,204 just to put things in perspective. Norway rocks across the board owning more Winter Olympic medals than any other country. Canada is the only country to host two Olympic Games (1976 in Montreal and 1988 in Calgary) and not win a gold medal. I have faith Canada will walk away with more than a few gold medals’ this February.

I ask myself why I caught the fever? Why am I so taken with the onslaught of elite athletes and the performances we will soon witness in our backyards? Why am I a student of the 2010 Games like no other Games before? Perhaps as I mature as an individual and also a professional athlete in my own right, a healthy sense of curiosity has evolved inside to learn more about these Olympians and how they channel their passion and focus on their goal. When I read their stories, I think about their journey as an athlete and how they prepared day in and day out to finally be on the start line, much like I do to prepare for my sport. I think about how they were supported by friends, family, coaches, and therapists to make this experience a reality. Each story, no matter the sport, gives hope and inspiration. It offers possibility and belief in dreams becoming a reality. It doesn’t have to be the Olympics. It can be as small as running one block. No matter the person, goal or sport, it is relative and something we, all of us, can relate to.

The other day in the pool, I witnessed a performance that impressed me. I call it a performance because it was just that. Even though it was just at an early morning swim practice, it was still a performance. Our lane is comprised of a couple exceptional swimmers breaking water for a few drafters. The most exceptional swimmer (high level athlete, coach and confident individual) normally leads out the lane and we all follow either a respectable ten seconds behind (five, if you need a draft). On this particular day, our trusted leader was exceptionally tired. I could tell by his body language that he was hoping for a casual swim. Unfortunately, he was being tailed by the second person by two seconds (hardly respectable distance) who was easier riding in his wake the entire swim practice. My admiration for our leader surfaced when I observed how calm and collected he remained. He stayed the course, executed the workout impeccably and dug for energy, strength and focus till the last bitter length. Despite an incredibly arrogant follower showcasing his ego by swimming on his feet, there was not a dent in our leaders armor. Sounds trite to retell the story but in fact it was the epitome of executing a performance under stress and pressure. I suspect we will witness a few solid performances during the Games where focus and boundaries will be of utmost importance.

And so when the Games arrive and I either attend or watch on TV, I’ll be watching for the subtle expressions on the athlete’s faces, their pre-race preparation, their ability to overcome adversity or react to less than ideal situation. I’ll be watching them celebrate their victories and revel in the joy of accomplishment. I’ll be watching the athletes interact with their competition and how they respect each other, their country and their support networks. As an athlete myself, I will relate to them on some level and hopefully integrate some of what impresses me about them.

Go Canada Go

Longhorn Ironman 70.3 - final race of the season

2009-11-07T12:26:00.000-08:00

Barton Springs Pool

Pre-Race Adventures
As I sat on the airplane on my way to Austin, Texas three days before my final race of the season, I thought to my self, “what on earth am I doing flying to Austin to swim, bike and run?” Lugging my bike box, racking up grossly overpriced excess baggage fees, navigating my way through a new city in a rental vehicle and sleeping on thin hotel sheets seemed a far cry from what I really felt like doing which was to stay home in the comforts of my routine and well-defined schedule. It took mere minutes to flip my cynical and ponderous attitude on its head upon my arrival into the Austin airport and experience the welcoming openness of this great city, home of the Texas Longhorns and USA capital of live music.

Just two days before leaving for Austin, my travel partner and Professional Triathlete, Sara Gross, bowed out of coming due to a flu bug that wasn’t letting up. Sara is going on to race Ironman Arizona in a few weeks time so she felt no need to drain herself in the Longhorn experience. While I missed her company for the travel, I settled into nomadic mode and explored the town with vigor.

Day One was an unplanned excursion day as I attempted to get oriented and familiar with the landscape and climate. My first stop was Jack & Adams Cycles, a local’s shop for triathlon gear, nutrition products, and great service. Just around the corner were two more enormous cycling and triathlon stores nestled in between “Austin Java” and funky bistros. I was encouraged to explore the famous quarter mile spring fed Barton Springs Pool in Zilker Park a quick mile away from Jack & Adams (on Barton Spring Avenue). My eyes deceived me when I rode up to this enormous quasi-canal-like-pool with Lifeguard chairs and distance markers. Apparently, this was the training pond for local triathletes and long-distance swimmers. Next visit, I’ll be sure to go for a 4-lap splash just to say I swam a mile in Barton Springs Pool.

After a short run along the Barton Town Trail, also popular route to the svelte and fit, young and old neighborhood prancing along with their dogs or comrades, I GPS’ed my way to Luedecke Arena and Walter E. Long Lake for race registration and a tour of the transition site. Longhorn Ironman is organized by EndorFUN (Race Director, Keith Jordan). This company is now the event organizers for three more 70.3’s – Timberman, Mooseman, and Lone Star. After experiencing the organization of EndorFUN, the preparatory information, and coordination of logistics, along with the fact that the 70.3 (half Ironman distance) is a distance I am embracing as my main focus, I hope to schedule more of EndorFUN races into my season. As I said to Keith Jordan, his recruitment of enthusiastic volunteer support, the unmistakable course markings, the offering of quality event merchandise, a seamless transition set up, and the race-day spirit should be the model for other race coordinators.

One Day Before Race:
Saturday involved a refreshing swim, smooth ride, and short jaunt from T1 (transition one) where I was in fine company of at least 1,000 athletes doing the similar yet slightly personalized routine. I kept to myself and reveled in eavesdropping on in-depth conversations about race day nutrition, pacing protocols, “lack of training” and declarations of doubt and fear, all the while justifying their presence with sentiments of encouragement and grounding inspiration.

The Pro Meeting was efficient and informative. The USAT Officials assured us there would be at least four motorbikes accompanying us all day to ensure fair riding for everyone. This was a relief since they were MIA - missing-in-action - in Augusta, a short month earlier.

By noon, the race day preparations were a rap. Amit Bhutani, my almost-homestay-local-triathlete-recoverying-from-shoulder-surgery-race-day-volunteer-facebook- expert-new-friend and overly hospitable generous soul and I toured the Expo prior to my navigating (albeit poorly) back to my dinky hotel room to rest and rejuvenate.

Dinner both Friday and Saturday night consisted of a football size baked sweet potato and a Texas grain fed 6oz filet mignon. The tank was topped up and race day would simply require a focused mind clear of any thought and judgment coupled with a rhythmic stroke, silky slipstream, and gazelle-like steps.

Race Day:
All 2500+ athletes along with equal number of supporters and volunteers were crowding into transition as early as 5:00 a.m. The Pro’s wave was at 7:30 a.m. with 4-minute intervals to follow by age group. Some sorry souls only started at 8:40 a.m. yet had to have their bikes set up, morning clothes dropped off and be cleared out of the transition barricades at 7:15 a.m. This meant many of them were standing around in a wetsuit for well over an hour waiting for their long anticipated wave start. Some people ask me why I choose to race professionally; an early start is definitely one of the reasons.

My “staging” area was dialed within 5 minutes. Check, check…bike racked, shoes in pedals, helmet, race belt and sunglasses resting on bars, gels and electrolytes secured to frame, bottles in cages, and odometer set to zero…check, check. With wavering confidence that my bike would remain unhampered or that my tires would mysteriously deflate, I committed to the next phase of pre-race preparations – put on swim cap, goggles, wetsuit, loosen up and narrow the minds eye prior to plunging in for a warm up.

Swim:
With 30 seconds to the start gun, the Pro field had drifted well over 30 meters ahead of the start buoys, with 10 seconds to go, we were uncontrollable and in full propulsion. Much to my amazement, I had a powerful no nonsense start and stuck close to the splashing and commotion of the main pack. My swim starts are an area of weakness yet I have been training to improve my explosive power “out of the gates.” Maybe it paid off? Let’s just pretend it did.

The swim course was marked with 10 foot red buoys in triangular formation. The course was unmistakable and if feeling strong, anyone could have had a good swim. Without relinquishing any effort, I successfully swam through a few packs before the final turn. With 750 meters remaining, I caught Terra Castro and stayed on her feet for the rest of the swim. A thick bed of weeds welcomed us back to shore. Time: 27:53. Followed by a steep grassy run up to the bikes, there was no time to contemplate life since I was determined to improve my transitions shift into bike mode as fast as I could. Time: 2:01 (well within the top pros).

Bike:
Once onto the bike, I put my head down and focused solely on the road ahead of me. The roads were a buffet of chip seal, cracked asphalt, and smooth pavement. There was opportunity to stay aero and fast yet the undulating hills allowed for diversity and an out of the saddle stretch. The pace was painful, the effort required solid focus, and double the calories I had planned for. Every time the sensation of “pain” or “discomfort” entered my conscious mind, I would self negotiate to acknowledge yet ignore the distress until after the race. Once through the finish line, I would give all the time and attention necessary to restore my body to homeostasis. This little bargain seemed to put the unnecessary at bay. With increasing frequency, I found myself pulling this ruse out for the last 10 miles of the ride and most of the 13-mile run.

With the exception of passing two other girls and being past by Kate Bevilaqua, nodding to the odd motorbike or photographer, and rolling through four aid stations, my two and a half hours were spent in my own company and the voice of a steady unrelenting mind. The course meandered through the rural roads of Austin’s farm country and formed an odd figure eight that never intersected. While I was not “magic on wheels,” I was motivated to dig for the strength I knew I had. I remembered thinking “I may as well kill myself trying before giving into the effort.” Kate and I pulled into T2 (transition two) side by side. Time: 2:28:51.

T2
In keeping with my “quick transition” goal, I didn’t even tie my laces up on my runners. I bolted out and stopped to tighten them once I ran over the timing mat. Time: 2:41 (the fastest time was only 20 seconds faster).

Run:
The party was on the 3-loop hilly run course. Runners were treated to live music, a sprinkling of cheerleaders, 18-themed aid stations (being one week prior to Halloween, there were no shortage of outrageous costume-clad volunteers), some grassy paths, some trail but mainly roads and ice cold towels every 3.5 miles. The heat and humidity was escalating and if I glimpsed down, I could see the salt crystals forming on the roundest part of cheeks. While likely not the salt from my cheeks, I knew this mineral would be a major ingredient in my post-race snack.

If nothing else, my focus was on maintaining a quick foot cadence, relaxing my shoulders and hands, and keeping tight angle in my elbows. Training with quicker steps has been a major theme of my practice runs for the past few months - counting and recounting my steps for 60 seconds, aiming for over 180. My highest cadence thus far, with great effort, had been 200 steps in one minute. I would be more than pleased with 184-188 steps per minute for race day. This would ensure efficiency and a speedier time than my 1:33 split in Augusta.

The level of discomfort was at an all-time high for most of the run. For the second and third loop, the age-group divisions poured onto the course. It was wonderful to have the company and share the effort with inspiring athletes. Given the distance of 70.3 miles and the time of approximately 4.5 hours, I was tapping into any and all fitness available. Gatorade, gels, water, and salt were guzzled at regular intervals. With about 200 meters to go, I was passed by another pro who found some great sprint in her step to finish a near 10 seconds up from me. I do recall trying to challenge the pass but surrendered when a greater effort resulted in the exact same speed. The Longhorn Finish line was inside the Arena with cheering crowds in the bleachers. Final Time: 4:29. A Personal Best at this distance. 9th Place Female Pro.

Nothing beats ending a season with nothing left other than motivation for a strong recovery and rejuvenation for next year. The Half Ironman distance has opened up a new level of enthusiasm for my racing career. When coupled with attending stupendously organized and spirited events, it makes the adventure much more satisfying.

Amit & Rad
My new friend Amit and his wife, Rad, collected me from my hotel that evening for a wonderful outing to a casual brewery serving over 100 imported and local ales. They wanted to take me somewhere more “interesting” and authentic than this place but I couldn’t have been happier right where we were. Since Austin is my new favorite destination, I’ll be returning to explore a few more hidden treasures. Amit and I engaged in the pros and cons of Facebook-ing. I was the cynic and he was the opportunist. Our debate found a happy middle ground on the pervasiveness of a Global Village as a result of Facebook, and now Twitter; yet authentic socialization will always require in person grassroots connections and relationships. I think Rad sat somewhere in between but agreed slight more with my perspective ☻

Home
Back in Vancouver. No routine. No “training”. Yoga, work, friends, movies, late night outings, and reading fiction.
Always welcoming the experience of others and keen interest to challenge the body and soul. Yoga has become a wonderful tool to reconnect with many overlooked aspects of the self. We have a new studio here in Vancouver that could easily be coined a sanctuary. If not curled up reading, find me at YYoga Flow.

Send me your news, goals, or tribulations. Better yet, lets get together in person to share adventures!

Christine

A New Chapter - HALF IRONMAN

2009-10-24T14:46:00.000-07:00

And so I land in Austin, Texas for my last officially planned race of the season.
Tomorrow is the Longhorn Ironman 70.3, a long running event that now hosts over 2500 athletes from all over the world. This is my 3rd Half Ironman race since my less than glamorous showing at Ironman Canada. IMC was an experiment, like all races I suppose, to race without judgment and execute a plan based on my fitness and experience. For whatever reason, I finished up my 19th Ironman proud of a finish but perplexed by my performance, or lack thereof.

With a quick shake of the head and necessary outburst of emotions, I dusted off and decided that my Ironman-distance racing chapter needs to close for a while. Maybe someday I’ll rekindle a desire to race that length again but my sense is it will be a long while. What a relief it is to have clarity in this decision.

The experience of training for Ironman races has instilled in me strength, confidence, sense of purpose and vitalization that would not have been found any other way. I can only hope to transfer these qualities to my everyday life and to the people I love and care about. The experience of traveling to race at Ironman events have opened my life up even more through the people, the places, and the challenge of the start line tension, the diversity of courses, and the finish line ecstasy.

And so I take it all in and be grateful to have had many years of preparing my mind and fitness for the 4km swim, 180km bike and 42km run.

My newest chapter reads HALF IRONMAN in big bold letters. If new to the ironman terminology, a Half Ironman is a 2km swim, 90km bike and 21km run. My body and mind work well at this distance. I don’t know why my experience at this distance is more rewarding but it may be because I race the entire event (instead of surviving as was typical in an Ironman distance race). At the half distance, I race at an intensity that challenges and uses my fitness to its edge. This leaves me with a snapshot of where I must improve upon in my training. It’s a thrill to participate in an event that offers up a true test coupled with a tangible challenge. My mind is free to race, not in anticipation of a melt down as it was in an Ironman. My mind is rooted in moving forward and welcoming the pain that comes from effort, power, and speed all the while knowing how sweet the finish will be. This is why I do this sport…this is why we all do sport.

And so for the next year, this distance will be the title of my chapter. While a few other changes are necessary to compliment this new focus, I have decided to make those changes after tomorrow.

How did I end up in Austin, Texas, home of Live Music, real beef, and the Texas Longhorns? In fact, this major triathlon is only one of many events going on in town this weekend. Livestrong and the Austin International Film Festival are only two of the other events competing for airtime. While I have not spotted Lance himself, I can certainly understand why he lives here. Austin is a beautiful, friendly, clean, quaint (but growing), funky, healthy, active, and temperate city (apparently quite hot summers). This road trip follows on the heels of a recent trip to Augusta, Georgia for the Ironman Augusta 70.3 event on September 25th to which I traveled down with Sara Gross. I finished 9th Pro Female and knocked 8 minutes off my Half Ironman time. Prior to this race was the Subaru Sooke Half Ironman on September 13th. Amazingly, I won this event with Ironman Canada still fresh in my legs. The Longhorn Ironman 70.3 was easily scheduled as my last hurrah in 2009. These races are just setting the scene for my chapter. I plan for an enthralling plot and complex characters.

And so…when I awake tomorrow, I’ll feel nervous and excited for the right reasons. I’ll feel anticipation and eagerness for the starting horn and rapid adrenaline gushing through my veins. I’ll feel focus and certainty. I’ll feel freedom to explore my fitness and search for my tipping point. No judgments, no holding back, no strings attached.

Racing From Within

2009-08-28T09:46:00.001-07:00

Another short lapse since my last entry…I procrastinated to write a report on Ironman Lake Placid. It was an emotional experience and likely one I’d rather keep to myself. The lessons came tumbling in a few short hours after the finish. The race, the experience, and the result were supposed to happen so that I could search deep within and look at what is happening to me on race day...an Ironman Race Day no less. I have looked at my pacing, nutrition, and training a million times. Surely after all these years, I have most of those elements dialed enough for a strong finish. This leaves me with the mental and emotional aspects of racing, performing and believing. Ah ha.

Needless to say, Lake Placid forced me to look at why I have lost my power, strength, and confidence on an Ironman race day. It doesn’t take a PhD to figure out that it all comes back to me and my thoughts and attitude. What a relief, I say, because it is changeable and within my control. And, I love things that are within my control.

Someone very insightful wrote this to me after IMLP:
I believe that if we can get you to a place where you can let go of these shackles
you've carried for so long, you will be able to race and live the way you deserve.
You are a very powerful woman with skills and gifts that make most envious.
But when we let others take our power our source is damned up.
When we stop that thievery, that power will flow unabated.
When you do take control of your own destiny you will have a race that will
surprise everyone save me. Now we just need you to see that as clearly as I do.
- August 2009

I share this only because of how it was written. It actually brought tears to my eyes and inspired me to walk a new pathway of freedom and courage.

For the first time ever, I crossed a finish line and announced that would be my last Ironman. Well, here I sit in Penticton awaiting the start of my 16th Ironman. It was only with a new thought pattern and revised goals that I sent in my registration. Sunday will be a true celebration of my physical and mental efforts. My only goal is to be in my power at each moment and own the experience of the day. My mind will work in harmony with my body and be at complete peace with thoughts flowing in and out all the while my strength is expressed within a swim, a bike ride and a run. My butterflies are from excitement and eagerness to get the race underway. My fears are set aside for the day and overridden with each passing moment. My body will move with steady, patient effort, building strength and power all day. Watch or don’t watch, in fact, it doesn’t matter because Sunday isn’t about you for a change. What a relief.

Ironman Lake Placid 2009 Photos

2009-08-01T09:51:00.000-07:00

top, middle, bottom.

Sister in Law, Caroline & Christine

Brother, Mark and Nephew, Harry

Niece & Nephew, Jackie & Harrison Fletcher, and Christine

Curious from Lake Placid, NY

2009-07-25T15:15:00.000-07:00

CAF, Pensive & Calm & Curious

It’s only a few short hours before the cannon blows of the 11th annual Ironman Lake Placid. My mom and I have been perched in the Maple Leaf Motel Inn since Monday preparing for race day. Thousands of other athletes occupy the town in anticipation of one of the largest Ironman events on the circuit. From what I hear, over 2,000 athletes will be starting at 7:00 a.m. on Sunday, July 26th.

Lake Placid is a resort town located 2.5 hours south of Montreal in the State of New York. The Olympic Games were held here in 1932 and 1980. In fact, the finish line is set along the track of the Olympic Speed Skating Oval where Eric Heiden won his five Olympic gold medals. The swim takes place in Mirror Lake, a narrow and protected lake that runs parallel to the Village centre. Under the water is a cable that lines the IM swim course. If lucky enough to be close to the cable sighting is completely unnecessary. From what I hear, this cable is for the rowers that frequently train in Mirror Lake. It seems like sporting history and inspiration is at the heart of the event.

There have definitely been some adjustments in my approach to this race. My sense is these shifts happened organically and perhaps due to the fact that I’ll soon be starting my sixteenth Ironman. Feelings of excitement and thrill are rarely dulled despite my veteran status on a start line but this time a sense of curiosity for what the day will bring and a willingness to go with it. Of course, my plan is to execute a stellar race and give everything stored up inside but if something unforeseen comes my way, I am curious how things will play out. It could be anything from a crazy thunderstorm to running down the race leader. My emotions are very much “in check” and my mindset is one of confidence and ease. My job tomorrow is simply to execute my race and pay attention to the little signals, both internal and external.

I have fallen in love with Lake Placid, the lakes, the roads, the views, the sporting venues, and quaintness of our little motel. Race day already feels like it will be over too soon. It is my intention to soak up the experience as best as I can and finish strong, satisfied, and solid. I am as curious as the next guy to find out how things will unfold.

Stay Tuned.
C

The “Greats” of an Injury

2009-07-17T13:12:00.000-07:00

Paul Cross & myself

The best part of overcoming an injury (in my case, stress fracture in foot) is feeling grateful for our healthy body and sensing renewed freedom from the restraints of constantly nursing the wound. It’s remarkable how much mental strength and emotion come into play when something in one’s body goes awry. Having had the odd injury in my past, I am well practiced at the many stages of coping with an injury: first comes raging denial which settles into anger then despair and maybe some regret, finally admittance and acceptance percolates, then as the rollercoaster settles in its station, surrender takes over that can, at times, feel like a relief. The key ingredient to coping, of course, is one’s creativity in designing an adaptation plan that mimics the activity you would otherwise be doing as an uninjured athlete. My creativity was at its height at about 4 weeks.

After listening to an Endurance Corner Podcast with Gordo Byrn and Bobbie McGee in which they discussed the many ways to build endurance for an endurance event like Ironman (an event which isn’t terribly fast but is long and lasts all day). Bobby McGee http://www.bobbymcgee.com/ commented that one doesn’t have to exclusively swim, bike and run to build endurance, especially in the base and pre-build phase of ones training. Hiking, trekking, Nordic skiing, snowshoeing, and mountain biking can all be great substitutes. He also believes that inserting a few “go-all-day” days in a year is a great way to build that non-stop engine. So, I decided to plan a “go-all-day” adventure. It started with an early swim of about 4km at an easy to solid pace, home for breakfast (whilst standing), quickly on my time trial bike for 5 hours at base effort, home to have a snack (whilst transitioning into hiking gear), hopped on my cyclo-cross bike with knapsack and runners for a short trip to the North Shore mountains for an intense 45 minute trek up the Grouse Grind trail, down the 6-minute tram (standing), hopped back on my cyclo-cross bike for the ride home where I, finally, crossed my imaginative finish line. I did it alone so I could be in the moment and mimic what it might feel like in my next Ironman. Looking back, it was both the mental deposit and physical output needed minus the actual running event.

At 5 weeks and 3 days, my foot allowed me to jog 10 minutes on the treadmill. Two days later my foot and I did 20 minutes at a ridiculously slow pace. Each day after the 6-week mark, my foot was willing to go a bit further and resistant to any insult.

Some “great” did, however, come out of this little hiccup. For one, I befriended a few new gals who were also injured. We’d meet at Kits pool to stride through the water on our way to nowhere in dream-like slow motion. I was quickly reminded that proper technique (with or without a floatation belt) is crucial when water running. If the body is not upright and poised while producing a powerful stride and arm swings, the running muscles will not be recruited. All to often water runners fall forward, collapse at the hips, and use the hands to move forward. This technique resembles breaststroking instead of running. While I am far from an expert, and don’t wish to become one, I picked up a few tips from my water running buddies that had great technique and had me working up a sweat in no time.

Another “great” from my downtime was the motivation I had to work on my run form and efficiency and start a run specific core routine. It was no decision for me to hired Paul Cross, http://www.crossathleticconsulting.com/ as the master behind this new focus. Why did I wait so long to do this? Paul’s approach to running form is inspired by Bobby McGee (as mentioned above), a Boulder-based running coaching I follow and admire. Bobby has helped many athletes become world class runners and surpass their running goals. Say no more, sign me up!

It only took 30 seconds for Paul to see we had some work to do after he assigned me my first drill which he says would “…dramatically improve my running” - SKIPPING! Not like the days of elementary school but rather like Sylvester Stallone in Rocky. With two feet and quick rebounds off the floor. This drill (aka: coordination test) posed a problem – I could hardly get to 15 seconds…my feet didn’t rebound, they stuck. With Paul’s guidance and observations (aka: encouragement and patience), I worked up to 45 seconds by our second session together. My timing and the elasticity in my calves was improving, and I was almost ready to go head to head with Mohammad Ali. My neighbor tells me 4 minutes of skipping is equal to 1 mile of running…I was sold.

My run specific core routine progressed from skipping to glut activation, hip drive strength, posture alignment, and trunk stability was tailored to my weaknesses. Paul even had me agree to diligently incorporate three stretches into the program.

Once my foot was healed, Paul took me to a track for a drills and striders program. Much like our gym encounters, it was quickly evident that this program was really going to help my run performance. After all the running books, videos and articles I have read about running form, every drill Paul introduced was unique (and totally logical) and every move I made was prompted with his cues and coaching until integration was apparent. After a few sessions, my running form has improved dramatically and leaves me only excited to practice the drills and striders more and more. In truth, however, my ability to make change in my form was really only because of doing one-on-one sessions under the skillful eye of Coach PC. Now, I want everyone who loves running to work with Paul so they too can benefit from his expertise. I have no doubt these sessions would elevate their experience of running to new heights.

The final “great” (that I will share) as a result of my injury was how the shift in my racing schedule taught me openness for change. For many weeks in May and June, there was no point in scheduling a race since the time to heal my foot was unknown. It sounds pitiful to even suggest this could cause angst within but in fact it does and it did. While I love to train for sport, I love even more to train for a purpose. For months, I had been preparing for a goal and all of sudden it was removed without a new one to take its place. To be honest, I became a bit obsessed with researching possibilities. I was looking at every race in July: France, Switzerland, Germany, Lake Placid, and the UK. My friends and family had to endure daily phone calls to weigh the options of selecting one race over another.

Once healed and after much thought and indecision, I decided on Ironman Lake Placid, which takes place in the State of New York just two hours from my hometown, Montreal. The trip was booked. New energy could be directed towards this fast approach event.

Since that decision everything has been on fast forward including the decision to sign up for a tune up half ironman race on July 12th – the Vancouver Subaru Half Ironman http://www.lifesport.ca/ . The skilled team of Lance Watson, Paul Regensburg, and John Bothello hosted their third annual Half Ironman on a glorious Vancouver day. The race attracted a superb field of pros and enthusiastic age groupers. I had the pleasure of dining with Christine Cogger (3rd in sprint) and Marie-Anne Prevost (2nd in sprint) from Whistler the night before, sleeping in my own bed, riding on familiar roads, and rejoicing with real friends. A few spectators even commented on my great running form. I didn’t have Paul’s business cards on me but I hope they all read this entry.

Jasper Blake http://www.jasperblake.com/ and I shared the 3rd placed spot on the podium. Jordan Rapp http://www.blog.rappstar.com/ and Magali Tisseyre took home the title while Steve Kilshaw http://www.stevofiveo.blogspot.com/ and Bree Wee http://www.breeweehawaii.blogspot.com/ finished in second place. It was a pleasure to be in the company of such great athletes and instill confidence for double the distance in only a couple short weeks time. More exciting was to witness and congratulate so many of my training buddies place in their division. If I didn’t say it enough on race day, I hope Lifesport continues to host quality local events for our triathlon community.

Since having my injury, I am the ultimate sympathetic ear to anyone I meet whose health isn’t 100%. Words are unavailable to express the mental battle of being “down” when being “up” is the norm. What always brings me back to earth is a quick reminder that one must surrender to the signals of dis-ease (niggles or outright pain) and that this too shall pass. When it does pass, we will be, without a doubt, stronger, humbled, and grateful for the new day.

More from Lake Placid.

C

Cold Feet, By Adam Janke

2009-07-09T09:59:00.000-07:00

Take care of your feet in the winter too! By Adam Janke
Most of us have learned to look after our feet during the running season. We go to the local running store and get the best shoes we can. We make sure to replace our shoes every six to twelve months. We use off-the-shelf (OTS) insoles or even custom orthotics if poor biomechanics warrant. But when winter comes around we forget all about it. Why?
Well, it’s not that easy finding the right biomechanical tools for the job when it comes to winter footwear and equipment. This tends to wreck our enjoyment and performance in winter sport. Winter activities that involve weight-bearing and movement similar to running, walking, or hiking such as snowshoeing, snowshoe running, alpine touring, and classic styled cross-country skiing require the same attention to biomechanics. Lesser weight-bearing activities such as hockey, skating, downhill skiing, skate skiing, snowboarding, or anything that involves gliding or downhill gravitational inertia creates different biomechanics but can still offer major discomfort and poor performance if foot biomechanics are ignored.

So what exactly is biomechanics and how does it apply to you? The term is thrown around regularly and loosely in the professional and recreational sporting world and depending on whom you’re dealing with it can mean a wide variety of things. Biomechanics as defined by Webster’s Dictionary is “the mechanics of biological and especially muscular activity (as in locomotion and exercise) . . ..” At the most basic level biomechanics can be defined as the evaluation of sporting technique (e.g., running biomechanics, swim stroke technique, etc.). For the purposes of this article, biomechanics will refer to your skeletal, ligamentous, musculotendinous, and myofascial anatomy and movement tendencies due to this anatomy from a lower limb weight-bearing perspective. Put simply, what happens to the joint and soft-tissue structures in and around your feet, ankles, lower legs, knees, upper legs, and hips when you stand or move?

Why does it matter? Numerous overuse injuries of the lower limbs have been connected to a biomechanical tendency present in a large portion of the population, excessive pronation of the foot, Plantar fasciitis, metatarsalgia, shin pain, patellofemoral pain, iliotibial band syndrome, and other overuse injuries can all be linked to abnormal foot and lower limb biomechanics, depending on the individual. Three effective methods of treating and correcting lower limb biomechanics are choosing proper footwear for your given foot type, using off-the-shelf (OTS) insoles, and, at the most specific level, using custom foot orthotics. These methods are all designed to control excessive foot pronation, commonly referred to as “collapsing arches,” “falling arches,” or, more appropriately, overpronation. It is important to understand that simply correcting the position of the feet and lower limbs is seldom the only solution to addressing a person’s biomechanical needs. There are numerous other variables that must be addressed through the treatment methods of chiropractors, physiotherapists, and registered massage therapists, depending on the individual.

If during the warmer months you require a specific shoe or shoe type that helps stabilize or control your foot, or you use some form of OTS insole in your shoes, or you wear custom foot orthotics for your day-to-day life and activities, then chances are you need similar support or control for your winter sports and activities as well. Not everyone needs some form of insole or orthotic for winter activities, but if you generally need some biomechanical help in the summer, you probably need it in the winter.

Assess the basic structural characteristics of winter sports footwear:
Q: Does the winter shoe or boot possess a strong heel cup or heel counter?
A: Knock on the back of the heel. If it makes a knocking sound, it passes.
Q: Does the winter shoe or boot have a straight last?
A: Look down the length of the shoe for a straight heel to toe alignment.
Q: Is the winter shoe or boot torsionally strong in the mid-foot?
A: If the shoe or boot does not bend, flex, or twist easily at the point immediately under the arch, it passes.
Q: Does this apply to all winter footwear?
A: No. It doesn’t apply to skates, cross-country ski boots, DH/AT/telemark ski boots, or snowboarding boots. For these, pay close attention to fit, lower-limb symptoms of biomechanical deficiency, and address with OTS insoles or see a specialist such as a certified pedorthist.

Adam Janke is a certified pedorthist and owner of Active Orthopaedic. He can be reached at adam@activeorthopaedic.com.

Now What? Saturday, June 13th, 2009

2009-06-21T20:48:00.000-07:00

On Monday, May 25th, I got the results of a bone scan that indicated a stress fracture in my navicular foot bone. A world of opportunity opened up for me that day. That new world includes changing my race plans, being adaptable, strengthening weaknesses, and motivating myself in different ways. Most definitely, it means trusting those around me that we need this time to heal and focus solely on what is possible not on what isn’t (such as running). This week in particular, my foot was starting to feel 99.9% better and runable. My physio, Harry Toor, and my Chiropractor and Active Release Therapist, Dr. Tyler Hunsberger, have both insisted we take another full week’s rest before testing the bones. I trust them wholeheartedly and will keep my promise to continue to water run and be patient.

As planned, I did venture over to the Big Island with Steve. It turned out to be a training week of low mileage but frequent swims and bikes. I jumped into the race for the swim and bike hoping to come off close to Belinda Granger and Sam McGlone. In fact, I did and was 4th pro off the bike. I slipped on my shoes and headed out the transition only to stop as I crossed the timing mat. Britni Bakk also raced and secured her coveted Kona spot as the first female in her age category. As a result, Britni will not race Ironman Coeur D’Alene and neither will I due to my foot.

Steve was the ultimate travel companion for this trip. Just home from two weeks in Italy where he was in full tourist mode, lounging by our hotel pool, shuttling me to and from the race and willingly going to bed at 8:30 p.m. was right up his alley. He had nowhere to be, no agenda and no hang-ups. This world needs more people like Steve when it is inundated with people like me. Our hotel overlooked the famous Manta Ray Bay where at night these beautiful marine mammals would come to feed on the florescent plankton lit up by the Sheraton spotlight. Steve organized for us to snorkel and scuba with the Manta Ray one evening. It was spectacular and a highlight of the trip.

Was it hard to DNF the race? Sure it was. But I had come to terms with this decision and knew it was the right decision. I focused on having a strong bike ride and getting in a few other hard training sessions before and after the event. Being in the heat and humidity of Kona was taxing in and of itself. The town was so quiet compared to Ironman week. Kona grew on me even more. Even Steve was amazed by the lava rock and landscape and quickly appreciated the elements that make the Hawaiian Ironman such a difficult event.

Back in Vancouver, the sun is shining, Kits Outdoor Pool is in full swing, and the entire city is seemingly at the beach. My whole focus is to rehab my foot better and have a strong foundation to spring off of. My Chiro, Tyler, has a new Laser Therapy machine in his office, which I have been using everyday for the past week. Research shows that laser therapy increases the rate of cell regeneration and tissue growth. The benefits are seen when treatments are done frequently and consecutively. Obviously this form of therapy if catching on because it is near impossible to get an appointment.

Since I am seeing so much of Tyler these days, he graciously invited me to go mountain biking with he and a friend on the Test of Medal course in Squamish, BC. In keeping with my “fun” perspective, I joined them. I was sure I warned him of my rusty technical skills, that my bike was old with very little suspension and worse yet, it wasn’t a Specialized. I was sure I asked him if this would be a technical ride with logs and rocks and switchbacks and steep drop offs. I was sure he said no it was a single-track cross-country ride and we would ride easy. I didn’t have him sign a letter of understanding but I thought we were speaking the same language. In my humble opinion, the ride and trails were anything but smooth and non-technical. A few scrapes, four hours, hike-a-biking, and badly bruised ego later, we found our way out of the deep woods. Tyler was beyond patient, encouraging and navigating the trails like a pro. His buddy was a smart ass, that was anxious to demonstrate his off road skills and get the ride done as quickly as possible, was another story altogether. Needless to say, we will not be having a second mountain biking experience together. Tyler is willing to ride again with me without an agenda. Yet another testament to what a decent guy he really is. While I must speak to Specialized about getting a mountain bike, it was still one of those days that opened my eyes up to the beauty of sport, testing limits and finding new ways to test of mind and our muscles. Change it up, rattle the cage, fire new fibers, be daring, discover new places through curiosity and be open to the possibility of change. I’m game.

Now what? Still undecided. My options are Ironman Lake Placid on July 26th, Ironman UK on August 2nd or Ironman Canada and Louisiana on August 30th. My instinct is to go somewhere new and explore total newness. My rational side says, find a comfort zone, go where you know the ropes. So I remain undecided but dedicated to the journey. Maybe I’ll end up in an off road triathlon some day?

The Importance of the IM Brand

2009-06-01T19:33:00.000-07:00

In September 2008, the owners of the Ironman brand, World Triathlon Corporate (WTC), sold out to an investment firm called Providence Equity, based in Providence, Rhode Island. For a private investment firm to analyze the demographics of Ironman participants and believe there is benefit to owning the marketing rights of the M-Dot brand is a clear testament to the growing popularity and direction of the Ironman distance, as well as the sport of triathlon in general. Hopefully, the only noticeable change from this acquisition will be an enhanced experience for participants, volunteers, spectators, sponsors, onsite retail, the community, local businesses, and the tourism industry. The Ironman is a prosperous brand, with a finely tuned operating machine and growing appeal and availability to the masses.

Prior to the recent acquisition, the Ironman brand spent thirty years morphing into its current presence as the true test of endurance, determination, and perseverance. It first emerged in Waikiki, Hawaii, as an event that could settle the debate over who was the most fit athlete: biker, swimmer, or runner.

Growing intrigue and participation led to the formation of the WTC in 1990, when the Ironman brand was purchased from Valerie Silk, a Hawaiian-based health club owner. Today, there are 21 WTC-sanctioned Ironman-distance events, with qualifying spots to the coveted World Ironman Championships held on the Big Island of Hawaii in October. Adding to the exponential growth of the brand was the introduction of the 70.3 Ironman series, otherwise known as a Half Ironman. This shrewd business decision allowed thousands more athletes to participate in an Ironman-tagged event and potentially qualify for the World Ironman Championships or the newly launched World 70.3 Championships (held in Clearwater, Florida in November).

Regardless of the Ironman brand ownership or M-Dot symbolism, athlete participation should be the ultimate goal. Professionals and amateurs alike share an interest in fostering the development and continued legacy of triathlon, regardless of the IM logo now seen on clothing, athletic equipment, souvenirs, and Timex watches. If offering more accessible events in distance and location with World Champ qualifying slots means an increase in individuals willing to swim, bike and run, travel to beautiful places, spend hard-earned dollars on equipment, accommodations, nutrition and sign on for a new lease on life as a result of the Ironman experience, we should encourage what the savvy WTC and Providence Equity folks are doing.

The Hawaii Tourism Authority released a report in 2000 revealing that the Ironman and the NFL Pro-Bowl (Honolulu) achieve equal status when it comes to global recognition of sporting events held in Hawaii, a direct result of worldwide NBC television coverage viewed by millions of people multiple times a year. The economic impact for the town, city or state hosting an Ironman race could be stretched out to include the entire year. In Hawaii alone, a Department of Business Economic Development and Tourism study concluded that US$14.9 million is pumped in to the island economy over Ironman race dates. If athletes travel to the island in the months prior to the event to train, acclimate or combine some vacation time while learning the race route, this number will likely mushroom by a multiple of two or more. It’s a known fact that the majority of the athletes travel to the race site seven to fourteen days prior to race day to ensure a stress-free taper and mental preparation. And, after such a grueling day mixed with emotion and physical trauma, the local businesses can still reap more economic gains from the athlete-turned-tourist, probably in the mood to indulge!

Over the past thirty years, Ironman-branded events have proven that they represent much more than a 140.6-mile distance. At their heart are the athletes who proudly perform in order to hear the magic words “You Are An Ironman,” proclaimed by the renowned IM announcer Mike Reilly. They tested their human will and ability to endure, not to mention the patience of their families and employers. As the sport continues to grow in popularity, what was once thought to be the exclusive domain of the few exceptionally fit athletes is now becoming a more mainstream endeavour. This evolution of the IM brand is an exciting and natural progression, and encourages participation, longevity and shared experiences.

A Shifting Perspective ~ Friday, May 15, 2009

2009-05-15T20:09:00.000-07:00

This is the longest span of time I have ever let pass since 2005 to write a little bit about my adventures of preparing for an endurance event or comical training escapades. A few times I have asked myself why I willingly chose to cease writing for a few months, why I willingly decided to make other activities a priority and what, I wonder, would motivate me to sit down and write again. I recall the internal shift of pulling inwards and losing interest to share via the written word for others to see, read, and perhaps judge. This shift came right after Ironman Canada 2008. My parents, along with some friends, Britni and Warren Bakk, graciously came to experience the Penticton event unfold – a race I have now done six times. As like most of us, I can now see that something was not right from the get-go - my body was not “clicking.” Maybe I had raced too much already, many I was tired, maybe I was over excited to have my parents watch, or maybe I was just not that into the race? Regardless, it came, went, and made me a stronger person and athlete as a result. Having both my parents there was a real treat and I am hopeful they will come to a few more.

Shortly after Ironman Canada, I had an interesting discussion with an acquaintance that has watched me train and race from afar over the years. He asked if he could make a few suggestions to help my performance (in his opinion). Since I was more intrigued than anything, I spent a considerable amount of time sharing my experiences with this person and listening to his feedback and input. Sometimes a distant observer can offer the most accurate perspective. It was at this point when I decided to operate a bit more internally and keep many of my thoughts to myself until I was ready again to put words on paper. I went on that September to race in the Sooke Half Ironman (http://www.lifesport.ca/) where I place a stunning 2nd next to up and coming talent Haley Cooper.

For most of September and October, I traveled over to Victoria on the weekends to prepare for Ironman Arizona. This was an intense block of high mileage training with Steve Kilshaw and Jasper Blake who were preparing for the same race. Together, we toughed out the Pacific Northwest weather and bonded through epic rides up and down the Patricia Bay Highway. Again, always smarter after the fact, I may have pushed my needle a bit too much during that block and arrived at Ironman Arizona with lingering fatigue which caught up with me on the run. I finished up in the top 10 and ended my season fulfilled and ready for a break from structure.

Another major change was to start working with Client Lien as my coach. Clint is based in Victoria, BC and close friends with Lori Bowden and Peter Reid amongst a multitude of other triathlete types around the world. He once coined himself a competitive athlete but now revels in working with others, sharing his knowledge and passion as a coach, mentor, and the ultimate motivator. Clint’s personality, disposition, and temperament really jives with my character. He is a laid back guy all the while stirring up some great training blocks, encouraging smart efforts and recovery practices. He doesn’t over analyze any situation but is astute enough to read into the subtleties of a training log, conversation, or lagging swim times. Better yet, his interest in his athletes is unconditional, meaning one’s performance or fitness level does not correlate with their worth. His athletes are first and foremost highly valued individuals with depth and integrity. At a very distant second, they are seeking to do their best in sport under his guidance. Clint willingly, without arrogance I might add, gives back to the sport through his endless hours of swim coaching, group rides, and coached track sessions. On occasion I asked myself where this sport be if we didn’t have dedicated people like Clint encouraging a thriving community of participation. And furthermore, do we acknowledge these efforts? Surely the volunteer or coach is putting in the effort because they love what they do and are not looking for validation but it never hurts to express one’s appreciation. As I head out solo for my ride and run I often refer back to Clint’s efforts with admiration, gratitude and respect.

December quickly became January or so it seemed. I was well recovered from any fall racing or training and ready for something different from years past to build my fitness back over the winter months. On January 1st, the stars aligned while snowshoeing up Mont Tremblant. In minus 30 temperatures, my friend and guide, Louis Ludwig, and I were sweating buckets. As my heart rate soared and my lungs burned, there was nowhere else in the world I’d rather have been. And so it was - for the winter months, Nordic skiing and snowshoeing were the sports of choice with only a small amount of running, biking and swimming sprinkled in. The white snow, blue sky, and view from the mountaintop spoke volumes and were timely reminders of how small and meaningless we all are. On many occasions, I was overwhelmed with appreciation and a sense of privileged for these experiences. For some reason the training effects felt a distant second to the main benefit.

On February 22nd, I raced in the Whistler Nordic Ski Loppet that covered 30 km and most of the Nicholas North Golf Course. Being a timid Nordic racer, I started at the back (sound familiar to all you non swimmers?) and let the “fast” girls go. Big mistake. After the first climb, I was stuck behind those that had a good sprint but no endurance. The fun part was herringboning (skis in a “V” quite similar to scrambling up a hill) through others in the narrow trails while working my way into the top 10. Upon finishing this excursion, I realized why Nordic Skiers tend to have the highest V02 max levels of most athletes. Every muscle in the body gets worked with no reprieve.

This race seemed to mark the shift away from winter sports back towards the traditional swimming, biking and running. Fortunately, my dedicated training partner, Britni Bakk, and I were able to link in for some indoor computrainer sessions. We’d set up, as we have for a few years going now, in my unfinished makeshift garage, with a new itunes playlist and some concoction of intervals to pass the time. We were purposefully both on track for Ironman 70.3 California on April 4th, Ironman 70.3 Honu on May 31st followed by Ironman Coeur D’Alene on June 21st.

In my logbook, my training seemed to be coming along and California was scheduled as a season opener to get the cylinders firing. Now that it is over, it was the platform I needed to practice the mental, physical, and organizational steps for my 2009 racing season. From the travel, taper, preparation, transition, and raw exposure during a race, I was left hungry for more after crossing the finish line. As it turned out, the highlight was not the race; it was my travel companion (and second mom), Roslyn Boniface, and our accommodations in Fallbrook, San Diego. The Grierson’s (Jackie & Dennis) are long time golfing companions of my parents from Montreal who have made Southern California their home. They graciously opened the doors of their “guest house” for Ros and I, making us feel like we’d landed in heaven. Perched on top of the rolling hills overlooking endless acres of vineyards and avocado orchards, their home can be likened to a sanctuary. We lounged on their deck with a miniature putting green, infinity pool and mindless magazines at our disposal. Roslyn brought her golf clubs and planned to play at a local golf course while I was resting. As her luck would have it, the Grierson’s already had golf games lined up and included Ros in their foursome at one of the most prestigious courses in Southern California, Pauma Valley Golf Course.

Roslyn was a brilliant wingman and awoke at the crack of dawn to join me on race day. I left her in the very capable hands of Clint and his social crew. Amazingly enough, Jackie and her daughter, Cassandra, arrived just in time for the final stretch of the run. As a memento and expression of our thanks, I left behind my “hat” (a.k.a. helmet), as Jackie liked to call it, a term she will never live down.

My attitude towards specificity training started to shift after the California trip. I was, and still am, open to the workload and dedication to lift my fitness for Honu and Coeur D’Alene. Up until this point, I had been maintaining consistent training and following my program but willingly diverting from the structure of “specificity” in favour of fun, social, or a different sport. I’d maybe opt for a road ride instead of a triathlon ride if it meant I could ride with a group. Or perhaps I would participate in the masters swimming workout when Clint had suggested a straight 4000-meter set. I figured there were a million ways to get fit and if option B was more appealing than option A, I was game. Playtime and sharing experiences with others were (and still are) a high priority for me. Despite adding more structure, I am still of this playful mindset but practice it with a bit more consideration. My roadie friends will have to endure riding with me whilst I am on my TT bike.

It is almost one week until I leave for Hawaii. Steve Lafave, my surrogate brother, is joining me for the race. He’ll be a wonderful energy to have as company and always keep things light and fun. This race is very low priority since we have had two four-week “builds” in the past six weeks. The first two “build” weeks were daunting on paper and approached with trepidation. I sailed through the training (and intensity) without draining the tank dry…until the final two days. The final 48 hours were painful. I was done. Almost to the point of declaring “dysfunctional.” The upside was that I was granted a full week’s recovery prior to starting the second build.

Now in the middle of a second build, I have rediscovered the roads of Whistler and Pemberton. Whistler, an international resort destination for winter and summer travelers, is home of the 2010 Winter Olympic Games. The Sea to Sky community is bustling as they prepare to welcome the onslaught of international visitors and athletes next February. Until then, it is a training haven equipped with arduous mountain climbs, endless rural roads, soft packed technical trails, a 25-meter swimming pool, icy lakes for post training sessions and best of all, some great training partners.

New York New York ~ September 08

2008-09-10T19:36:00.000-07:00

After sixteen Ironman, I’ve finally figured out the best way to cope with a performance that was not what you had hoped for as mine was at Ironman Canada on August 24th. The magic formula: a weekend get-away to New York City with your closest friends and family.

Five days after crossing the finish line in Penticton as 11th female professional, 45 minutes behind my time goal and a long shuffle with a slushy gut, I boarded a plane from Montreal with Steve Lafave (a lifelong friend), my brother, Mark, and his wife, Caroline. Having grown up in Montreal, it seemed unfathomable that I had never been to New York with neither my school nor my parents. I had seen images in movies, books, photographs and newscasts during the aftermath of 9/11 but to actually go to a Broadway show, run through Central Park or shop in the endless retail districts of Soho, 5th avenue or Tribeca is an entirely different experience. Was I ever excited to take a chunk out of the Big shiny red Apple!

Regardless of the excitement in heading to New York, the days following Ironman Canada were still filled with familiar thoughts playing through my mind. My thoughts would replay the build up to race day and its unfolding details. As a result, it has taken a long while to write my report since I am still not sure what happened. What I do know for sure is that I was very confident to have an all time best performance. I had a solid depth of fitness, felt rested, mentally fresh, and excited to have the day come together as I had envisioned.

My parents and a few special friends were sharing the experience with me each of whom made huge efforts in traveling to Penticton for race day. Over the past year, my father has been exceptionally busy managing two separate companies located at opposite ends of the Continent, one north of the border and the other south. Him being there was no small feat especially since traveling to Penticton is more cumbersome than a direct flight into Chicago or LA. He was quite disillusioned when I told him my cell phone would not be with me during the race. I had to explain that we would need to last a solid 12 hours without electronic communication.

My parents were chaperoned around the course with Britni and Warren Bakk, seasoned Ironman event people as participant and spectator. They also know the Ironman Canada course like the back of their hand so they were the perfect leaders for my parents. Britni, being someone I have shared many long training days, emotional highs and lows and with whom I share a mutual passion for the sport, is preparing for her Ironman performance in Hawaii in early October. Having her on the sidelines seemed so strange; I wanted to yell, “let’s go for a ride!” Instead, I carried the memories of our training days with me as a reminder to all the great days we spent preparing for our respective Ironman races. Having missed a spot to Kona this year, I will not be sharing in Britni’s experience in a few weeks time but I know much of the work we did together this past year will carry her to a very solid race.

My day began with an enlightening chat with Belinda Granger (the eventual winner of the race). We discussed her season (Ironman China and Roth) as well as her plans prior to Kona. Since she knew she would never win in Kona (so says her coach Brett Sutton), she may as well come to Ironman Canada to win some money before going on to a few more races prior to Hawaii. I was so impressed with her enthusiasm and energy, I promised myself to stay in touch with her after IMC.

With lots of time to spare, the last few minutes was spent with my parents, Britni and Warren. I started right behind Desiree Ficker. Next time I will start next to or in front of others since it is all too easy to lose quick feet if positioned slightly behind the pack once the gun goes off and arms are flailing.

My promise to myself was to ease into the bike and hold back until I saw the 90-mile marker. This is usually where I feel so strong and ready to open things up a bit. Using my power meter as a constant reference, I stayed in my zone, fuelled, and drank all the while keeping my focus having a strong marathon leg. Come 70 miles, I sensed things were not going in the direction that I liked. It could have been sodium, it could have been calories or it could have been pacing but even two weeks later, I am still unsure why these unpleasant signals were popping up. I started to feel like I had to dig for energy whereas I yearned to feel the flow in strength and power that I had felt so many times before. I experimented with a few options, more water, 2 gels, a few salt tabs but nothing helped me strip down to my Super Woman outfit. Nonetheless, I was constantly suspending judgment and staying focused on the marathon leg.

Come T2, my mind was always hopeful things would turn around. Like a training day, the first few minutes of a jog are never comfortable. My stride usually opens up after seven to thirteen minutes; my body slowly forgets about the bike muscles and gets serious about turning my runners over and over. My fuelling menu consisted of Gatorade and Water and I did this same meal every mile. My vision of a galloping horse with rhythm and grace turned quickly to a shuffle – my body gave me no other option.

When I finished, I felt my throat choke up in relief, pain, and gratitude. Gratitude overwhelmed me since finishing was my main goal and by crossing the line, I had in fact done just that with the strength and encouragement of the people there and many more that were sharing this experience through different ways. And even though it was not the performance I prepared for, it is still part of the journey and one that I welcome, love and choose to not live without. It humbles me, strengthens me, and teaches me that I am only scratching the surface of my potential.

I have dealt with the post Ironman phase in many different ways. One thing is certain; I do not train and always try to find something to do that is equally fulfilling yet low stress, non taxing and totally unrelated to triathlon. A spontaneous trip to New York was just the ticket. For 3 days straight, I wore real clothes, carried a real purse, drank copious amounts of wine, and ate dinner after 10:00 p.m. every night. This vibrant city carried any thoughts I was having about my race to a far away place. The locals oozed with pride and energy. Times Square was lit up like a day-time neon dreamland; the cabbies seemingly blended into the architecture, Central Park felt like a sanctuary of clean air and green space, and the structural landmarks were every bit as splendid as portrayed on NBC. Three days of the Big Apple was just enough time to remind me that a beat goes on all over the world regardless of when things feel like the be-all-end-all on the race start line. My weekend get-away was a wonderful dose of perspective. It reminded me how much fun “not caring” about sleep, nutrition, and a schedule can be. It reminded me of my love for the arts, curiosity of new places and appetite for culture.

In fact, the distraction, and intense sensory stimulation generously offered by a city like New York was so refreshing that my enthusiasm to continue my endless pursuit of excellence journey in sport was stronger than ever. Even with two Ironman in me for this year, my mind and body feel like we are just getting going. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be jumping into a few more races and potentially plan for a late fall Ironman in Florida or Arizona.

If only Ironman New York existed I could race then refresh all in one trip. Maybe Ironman Lake Placid is in my future for 2009…

c

Setting The Stages for Ironman Canada 08

2008-08-20T19:38:00.000-07:00

We are one week away from Ironman Canada, Penticton, BC. The weatherman reports a sunny day with temperatures rising to +30 degrees Celsius. The weather is something we, the athletes, cannot control so we must all take what Mother Nature delivers. Instead, we look to things that we can control and focus on those critical aspects of preparing for a race, or in my current perspective, preparing for a Play. On Sunday, August 24th, my plan is to act out the character that I have been refining in my training and preparing for in my mind. Everyone around me, including my support team, are all part of the cast and crew with very little influence on my race execution plan and final scene (a.k.a: finish line).

The curtains roll back at 6:45 a.m. for the professional field of triathletes and 7:00 a.m. for the age groupers. What follows will be like any of my long training days – Act One: 2.4 miles of solid steady swimming with a bunch of friends, Act Two: 112 miles of ride paced 100% within myself fueled and hydrated with my favorite treats, and Act Three: 26.2 miles of running with the last few miles (the Grand Finale) being the pinnacle scene of the day.

The other cast members already know their line for race day as I am most certain they have been preparing equally as diligently as I have. I trust they will perform to the very best of their ability and follow their script word for word. Fortunately, what they do is well beyond my control so there is little need to expend energy thinking about other cast members.

With the lessons from my Ironman Coeur D’Alene experience in my back pocket followed by a couple of recovery weeks before building back fitness and endurance on the Ironman Canada course coupled with the awe inspiring performances of Michael Phelps and Usain Bolt at the 2008 Summer Olympic Games, it would seem incomprehensible if I did not have my greatest race this Sunday. This is, by the way, my goal – to have My Greatest Race yet at the Ironman distance. The successful outcome will hinge on a well paced bike leg and first half marathon using all the supporting props, lighting and staging to help get me there. While nothing will be unfamiliar, everything will require trust, patience, and focus.

And, much of that trust, patience, and focus will come from time in Penticton during late July when I had the very impromptu fortune to reconnect with Jasper Blake and link up for our long rides. We would meet at 7:00 a.m. at Starbucks for “one shot, long” as Jasper calls it. There was hardly enough fluid in the cup to wet your palette yet its main purpose was to “giddy up” the body so we could be alert for the next 6 to 7 hours. Jasper generously shared some “Ironman rules” with me (you’d think after 15 of them one would start to catch on…). Two of which I will forever remember: 1) Nothing ever happens quickly in Ironman. Be in control at all times and save surges and power efforts for a short course race. Be strong at the end of the race not at the beginning. 2) Your best race is only within the framework of your fitness (mental and physical). Always race within yourself during an Ironman event. It will never matter who shows up on race day, you can only do what you can do. If you try to do more, you will blow. And since you never know what others will do, stick to your plan.

I have, of course, heard these theories before in different formats and told them to myself many times but for some reason when Jasper said them to me, I heard them as truths and as loud reminders that I needed to abide by these truths on August 24th. He too would be there racing with his new baby, Finlayson, and wife, Jude watching proudly as he will hopefully reclaim his title from 2006.

The first two weeks of August were jam packed with adventures and high quality training. August 6th my mom came for a week’s visit, which is always too short when one considers all the tasks she does to heighten my quality of living, namely stocking the freezer, cleaning up the garden, and creating useful systems around the house. The days were gloriously hot for her stay and I really wanted her to enjoy some of the ocean views during the morning hours. So I enthusiastically invited her to ride my mountain bike along side me for a morning run around Stanley Park (8.8 kilometers). Stanley Park is recognized around the globe as one of the great parks of the world. It is an evergreen oasis of 400 hectares (1,000 acres) close to the Vancouver downtown core but you need to get there early in order to beat the tourist buses that unload by the hundreds. While Mom is a veteran at riding along side while I run, we typically do this when in Florida where the more senior demographic rarely leave their homes and the streets are traffic free. On this particular morning, the crowds on the seawall were abundant and worst yet, I looped us in the WRONG direction around the park. She nearly took out a few roller bladders when coming around some blind corners and got the “lady, you are going the wrong way” glare every so often. Regardless of the directionally challenged navigation on my part, mom got to see the beauty of the coast that I enjoy most mornings. A few days later, I invited her to join me again. She gracious asked a few more specific questions about the length of my run? about the direction of my run? And whether she could have an Advil before hand? She opted to stay home and garden…

My final big weekend of training was August 9-10th. Mom and I traveled over to Qualicum Beach to visit with my Aunty Janet and Uncle Bill. Apparently, Qualicum Beach has the highest retirement population in Canada nesting in its town so it was a no wonder I felt like sleeping all day. We were lucky enough to time our visit when my cousins Paul, Arleigh and their two daughters, Amanda and Melissa were also visit. On our last night, another cousin, Karen, join the party. Paul cooked dinner every single night. It was as though we were staying at a five star hotel. We didn’t even notice him prepare the meals and when dinner was called we thought we’d stepped into a culinary dream. From his recipe-less combinations of spices and herbs to his creations of vegetables, meats and sauces, every morsel was divine. The girls did the clean up which I could see what the unwritten deal of the marvelous meal. I wasn’t arguing!

I was absolutely stunned and thrilled to see this part of Canada. Qualicum Beach is north of Nanaimo on Vancouver Island and sits right on the edge of the Pacific Ocean. I rode along the coast towards Campbell River whilst sight-seeing all the small towns I have only ever heard about like, Fanny Bay (famous for its oysters), Comox and Courtenay. Each town was small, quaint, picturesque, and serene with ocean and beaches bordering its edges and umpteen fresh fruit and vegetable markets. I promised my Aunt and Uncle I would be back for a visit…and maybe the odd long ride too!

So, with one week to go, we IMC athletes are resting up, staying supple, loose, and focusing on having a great race day. Watching Olympic games are a wonderful and inspirational past time, I wish they were on every time I was preparing for an Ironman.

In closure, I thought I would share this link that I read in the magazine Popular Science. And while Andy Potts did not make the Olympic team it is an excellent overview of his training method and focus.

http://www.popsci.com/entertainment-gaming/article/2008-07/making-olympian

The online Ticket Master opens at 6:45 a.m. @ http://www.ironmanlive.com/

Chrissy Fletcher
(My Stage Name)

Ironman Coeur D'Alene June 2008

2008-06-30T19:41:00.000-07:00

So much boils down to numbers in a race. How many competitors crossed the finish line before you? What was your wattage on the bike? Your heart rate and pace per mile on the run? Your time in transition? These are the figures we pore over as triathletes. Yet at Coeur D’Alene, the most critical numbers I had to contend with were in the medical tent: five bags of saline solution, and blood pressure of 70 over 50.

Those are the stats that I will learn from in this race. As for the other data, I finished the Ironman in eighth place, with a time of 10 hours and 30ish minutes. This is well longer than I was hoping for but I am permanently suspending all judgments of my race and time and using the wise perspective and comments of my coach to help me move on to the next race.

Every time I write about a race, I always talk about “my” race. In truth, the race itself pales in comparison to the people and the process involved in getting to a start line. In this report, I want to talk about all the support I receive, both before and after a race.

The two days leading up to the race, I spent with Kevin Purcell, my coach, as well as Geoffrey Glotman, my friend and sponsor. Both were racing the Ironman, Kevin for his twentieth time and Geoffrey for his first. We tested out the lake together since it was reportedly 55 degrees Fahrenheit. We were equipped with new Aqua Socks, neoprene caps, and a whole lot of courage. After the initial shock to the face, our bodies adapted and we were pleasantly surprised after a 20-minute splash. It was really my Nineteen Frequency wetsuit that did the trick. It not only felt like a soft silk shell on my body but also kept me toasty warm after the first 5 minutes.

I was most excited for Geoffrey’s first attempt at an Ironman. It had been many months that he was “on the fence” about actually racing the distance. He purchased a new Time Trial bike and jammed in some added training hours to his already hectic schedule. He was out riding on the wet and cool days, swam with no additional motivation from a masters group, and ran the necessary miles to pull off the Ironman distance. He was practicing his nutrition plan, preparing his gear and wrapping his mind around this first-time challenge, all while running a hugely successful engineering firm, renovating his office, attending social functions, playing a pivotal leadership role in the community, managing the Glotman Simpson Cycling Team and being a superstar husband to Myriam and dad to three teenagers. Despite Geoff’s self-deprecating sense of humor, we all knew this feat was going to change his life and solidify his “superhuman” status forever. Geoffrey had his parents, wife Myriam, his nephew Benjamin, as well as his son Harrison and daughter Isabelle (missing was daughter Beckie), to cheer and greet him at the finish line. Nothing could be better than a crowd like that to welcome him through in just over 13 hours.

Kevin’s experience was not the bang-on day he was hoping for, since after two flat tires and long waits for mechanical assistance he decided to call it a day. Kevin is a veteran in the world of Ironman racing; he knew the questions to ask himself in order to make the best decision for the day. It takes courage to end something midway when you have only considered 100% completion as the option. It takes a definitive mind, determination, and self-kindness to know that whatever decision is made, it was the best one and no looking back because there will be more races ahead. His race exit was a bonus for me because I saw him out on the course as well as at the finish.

With Kevin’s guidance, I can honestly say my preparation and taper felt spot on. My stomach was filled with excited butterflies all week as I readied myself to expend some valuable energy. I could tell I was primed to race my best. My head must have been overflowing with thoughts while still in Vancouver—when I packed two bikes, bins of gear, helmets, nutrition products, groceries and gifts into my little car on the Wednesday before the race, I forgot to include my suitcase. It sat patiently at my back gate waiting to be stacked amongst the others while I drove away, completely oblivious. My only saving grace was that my upstairs neighbour Monica found it when storing away my garbage bin later that day. Three and a half hours into my drive, my cell phone rings with her questioning voice, “Did you forget your suitcase?” Oh My Gawd! Sheer panic filled my entire body. My stars were lined up since Geoffrey was flying in the next day and agreed to check an extra piece. This good deed surely contributed to his impressive race!

After the unnerving phone call from Monica, I peered back into the depths of my car to make sure I did in fact pack my TT Specialized Helmet. Yes, it was there. My Specialized TT Shoes were in, as was my Specialized Transition. Good to go!

Should anyone take note of what most triathletes lug to races it would be cause for a sanity check-up. My bins were packed with training aids, nutritional supplements, tools and wrenches, and most importantly my trusty Trigger Point massage kit. I take at least one piece of this 4-part kit with me everywhere when I travel and every room in my house has a collection of Trigger Point options on the floor. Be it my piriformis, quads, calves or hamstrings, this kit has been my saving grace. Adam Janke, my running and cycling custom orthotics sponsor, supplies the Canadian market with the TP Massage product. He was at Coeur D’Alene assisting Cassidy Philips (founder) at the TP Massage Tent during the pre-race Expo hours. I cannot say enough positive comments about how my running gait, alignment and reduced susceptibility to injury has improved since working with Adam. I am a firm believer in his practice and the importance of addressing one’s alignment from the feet up. Adam was there on race day, cheering loudly and enthusiastically. I would have loved to race that day with all the poise his support has given me.

Six days prior to race day, I had my one-hour joint mobility session with Carmen Bott. She is the ultimate expert at preparing athletes for a big event and even more so, for a season of performance. I have been working with Carmen since November 2007. Her pliability to my program has been the only reason we are a successful team. Her knowledge and expertise in athlete performance and strength conditioning is world class and world renowned. She backs herself up with an impressive team of Human Motion coaches from a diverse background of specialties that, together, make her company a diamond in the rough. Carmen spent the hour with me loosening up my body and oiling my joints, something I try to do on a daily basis now but it is always much better with her guidance.

The two people who played a pivotal role in keeping my frame injury-free while addressing some chronic symptoms as well as a few acute flare-ups were Tyler Hunsberger and Harry Toor. Tyler is a topnotch chiropractor specializing in Active Release Therapy at Broadway & Burrard Chiropractic and Harry is a physiotherapist specializing in sports therapy and a partner of Envision Physiotherapy. Every week, these two magicians would listen to me as I claimed to have “figured out” what the issue was once and for all! I would have a new hypothesis on why my glutes were tight or why my hamstrings were in knots. I even went so far as to buy my own muscular skeletal map so I could speak directly to the muscles, joints, and ligaments at play. As diplomatic and understanding professionals, they would nod their heads, validate my theory, and get the treatment underway. Needless to say, my theories were rarely definitive and thankfully I arrived at race day in perfect form.

While my family was not able to come to Coeur D’Alene, I knew they were with me in spirit. It has been a busy year for our Montreal-based sporting goods company, Fletcher Leisure Group, as we have recently launched a new golf brand, AUR, signed on Sunice as a licensee of the 2010 Winter Olympic Games, and formed a new relationship with our US partners Ashworth to have the distribution rights to sell Sunice in the US. My brother is at the helm of Fletcher as President (and jack of all trades) while my father has taken on the CEO role of Ashworth Inc., based in Carlsbad, California. Despite their crazy schedules of traveling back and forth across the country and preparing for major sales meeting, they both called before my race, to make sure I knew where to send the cheque should I place in the “money.”

Being in the golf business for 40 odd years, my father’s perspective of triathlon is a fairly accurate and pragmatic one. He believes this is a “poor man’s sport” since the top professionals don’t even come close to what a golf professional makes for just showing up, never mind actually playing a round. He sees how hard triathletes train, the investment in equipment, the sacrifices made to be rested, recovered and primed for training sessions and yet, as he noted post-Oceanside 70.3, triathletes are so grossly undervalued in the eyes of sponsors and corporations. Golf, on the other hand, gets tremendous media exposure and corporate support, which feeds into ridiculously generous pay cheques as well as sport development programs and a rich legacy and heritage. There is, however, a bright future for the relatively young sport of triathlon, with some of the six-digit paychecks given out at the Lifetime Fitness Series races. We are also seeing an exponential increase in amateur participation and significant momentum from new programs such as Irongirl and Kids of Steel. Thankfully we triathletes are motivated by rewards other than money!

So far, I have touched on my support network before a race. Yet, especially at this past Ironman, I realized how lucky I am to have friends rally around me after the race, when my tank is empty. I’m so grateful for the patience, care and support that Kathryn Gardiner, Monica Marchenski and Marc Perrot (my Ironman Crew) dished out selflessly and in generous quantities as I made my way from the IV bag in transition to the comforts of my home-stay bed some 10 miles away. They did so much more than just collect my gear bags, bike, wetsuit and helmet. It even went beyond holding a plastic bag for me as I upchucked my insides whilst perched on the edge of Monica’s BMW front seat (meanwhile Monica is trying to buy me a piece of pizza and pop!). They were all one step ahead of what I might need to feel better: a warm face towel, clean clothes, fresh air, flip-flops, or peace and quiet. In my humble state of discomfort and queasiness, all I could think was “thanks guys …I’ll be better tomorrow to thank you appropriately.”

When we arrived back to my home stay after the race, we were greeted with such authenticity and interest from our home-stay hosts, Marie and Tim. I was of course embarrassed (without reason) to expose such an ailing side of myself to these gracious people who opened their home to us and made everything so comfortable in the lead-up to race. Monica took the helm and managed the social graces on my behalf. The following day offered a chance for me to visit, as they were both very curious about my experience.

I have stayed at many home stays in the past, be it for cycling races or triathlons. I am always amazed at the willingness of people to open their doors, offer a bed and share their private space with not only complete strangers but athletes complete with greasy bikes, surplus equipment, strange nutritional products and inhuman wake-up times on race morning. Isn’t this a disruption to their life? Or perhaps they enjoy the interaction of meeting new and interesting people from all over the world. Well, Marie and Tim take home-stay generosity to a new level. As I drove up to their peaceful lake-view home in Post Falls, Idaho, I could tell immediately they lived for the moment and made every effort to make their home a sanctuary, a place of comfort and beauty. Monica, Marc and I shared the lower floor with a panoramic view of the lake. We could escape down to their dock, snuggle on the couch, and watch their massive flat-screen TV or relax in the hot tub not two feet away from my bedroom. Had the race not been scheduled, we may have cracked open a bottle of wine or two from their wine rack.

I suspect in a matter of days, Marie and Tim will have framed our picture and added it to their Wall of Fame next to other framed photographs of athletes they have hosted as well as endless pictures of friends and family. We are honored to now hang where many other great memories rest in their home.

It took three full days after Ironman Coeur D’Alene for the swelling in my ankles to flush out and any severe stiffness to subside. I reflected on my race, on my own time and with friends and family. Sometimes I cannot find the words to describe the experience as I would like my gracious listeners to understand it. It is truly a march of personal determination and search for excellence. I look for something in the lives of my listeners to relate my drive and passion to and, like magic, we have a connection and a newfound bond.

As Eddie Fadel (President of Ashworth and my father’s roommate in San Diego) would say, when he was 21 years old he knew everything, when he was 31 years old he knew almost everything, when he was 41 years old he knew only a little bit and now that he is 51 years old he realizes he knows nothing but he continues to learn in hopes of never repeating the same mistake twice.

Since June 22nd, I too have learned and hope to not make the same mistakes twice. I am humbled yet wiser, and much more motivated to seek excellence through learning from the past, training hard every day, taking care of recovery and believing in the possibility of true excellence.

Christine
cfletcher@fletcherlg.com

Countdown to Ironman Coeur D'Alene 08

2008-06-01T19:43:00.000-07:00

Twenty-two days until Ironman Coeur D’Alene. I hadn’t really been counting the days down this time, until I realized today that it was the first of June. When did that happen? Has spring arrived yet? It sure didn’t feel like it today in Vancouver, at the 137-metre outdoor saltwater pool a few blocks away, by Kits Beach. This pool is usually full of sunbathers soaking up the rays on the deck while the odd serious swimmer hops in for a lake-like simulation swim. Given how big it is, the pool needs a series of hot-weather days to warm up its massive body of water to an acceptable 78 degrees. Britni and I hazard to guess it was 73 at best. We contemplated using our wetsuits, but realized that this would surely catapult us into tri-geek territory. We heard many people using the “getting used to swimming in my wetsuit” excuse but we agreed that it was the sissy way of swimming in this outdoor pool. With the wind howling at our backs, we opted to play it cool and jump in sans protection other than two swim caps (to keep the heat in). Needless to say, we suffered dearly but we sure looked tough—I hope!

Outside of swimming at Kits Pool today and two half Ironman races this spring, I will not have had an authentic opportunity to swim in open water as practice prior to Coeur D’Alene. Since I feel very comfortable in my Nineteen Frequency wetsuit and love the open water, I am more than confident in my swim preparations for race day. For the record, I’ve given myself an “A” for effort in attempted open-water swimming, since three weekends ago, Monica Marchenski and I were in Penticton for some Ironman specific training and woke at 4 am to eat breakfast, swim an hour in Lake Okanagan, ride the IM Canada and polish the day off with a run. We arrived at the lake at 6:30 am, lathered our bodies with glide, pulled on our wetsuits, warmed up our shoulders and psyched ourselves up for the lake swim only to discover that after walking in up to our ankles the water temperature was glacial, and in our opinion way too cold to even consider a swim. We guessed it to be maybe 6 or 7 degrees Celsius. The onlookers had a good laugh at us “triathletes” as we sheepishly unzipped our suits of armour and clambered back into the car. This episode put us on our bikes an hour earlier, which meant we were poolside and recovering by early afternoon.

After Napa Half Ironman on May 3rd, I took some time to recover before the Ironman build-up. As luck would have it, I got to go home to Montreal and celebrate my father’s 65th birthday with my family, including my niece and nephew, Jacqueline and Harrison (Jackie & Harry). Spending time with these two quickly reminds me that life is a game and the only things that really matter are sharing with others, eating our vegetables and getting to bed by 7:30 every night. It matters more that we are having fun than how we look. It matters more to be curious to learn than to have all the answers (although Jackie is usually curious and knows the answer). It matters more to laugh out loud along the way than to get to the destination miserable. My visit with them reminded me of my passion for this sport and all the people that I am surrounded by while training and racing.

Once back to Vancouver, my training ramped up and I was ready for it! The crux of my preparations has focused on a few key workouts each week, set up by my coach. After a long rainy and cool winter, it was definitely time to train outdoors, rain or shine. My favourite training destination is Penticton, the home of Ironman Canada, and some of the best cycling routes. Monica, also racing in Coeur D’Alene, and I made the trek to Penticton two weekends in a row for some focused hours of riding, running, (no swimming) and recovering. The first trip was hot, windy, and sunny. We had many co-triathletes to keep us company during the ride. It seems “our friends” were participating in a camp with Kevin Cutjar and Barb Scatchard. Since this was a supported ride, they had a van meeting them at various spots along the way with cold water and fueling options. Monica and I, being hard-core, fended for ourselves. The weather was so hot and the wind so strong, we ran out of fluids much earlier than anticipated on the backside of the ride. This forced us into Keremeos for a water and food stop. I think we both consumed a full bag of pretzels each along with Coke, Smarties and anything else we could find that looked appealing. This rest stop did the trick and gave us a second wind for the infamous Yellow Lake climb. Monica had a very strong ride, and we managed to stay together for almost the entire day. We were in sync with each other and communicated with body language. We both knew we would review the nuances of the day over dinner that night and enjoy reminiscing about our personal ebbs and flows during our 6 hours of cycling.

We followed a similar travel program the following weekend, except we upgraded our accommodations and Monica improved our meal preparations tenfold. Let me just say we were dining like queens, with homemade nibbles for all our snacks! The purpose of my ride was far most focused than the week prior and Monica was onboard. We agreed to ride as continuously as possible for 180 kms with only the shortest stops for water and a pee. Isn’t that how we race, after all? We hung together for the first two hours and arrived at Richter’s Pass 20 minutes quicker than the previous time! This was encouraging— we were on track for a solid uninterrupted ride. Monica was again in fine form but chose to make her own way at her own speed … as did I. We reconvened for only the shortest time a few hours later, suffering separation anxiety, but managed to say goodbye until the end. I experienced but one small hiccup of low fluids at miles 95-100 with no store in sight—only vineyards and farmland. Once regrouped, thanks to the water tap at Yellow Lake, I was back on track and riding strong to the end with a sweet short run to top off a great day.

I would like to extend sincere thanks to Monica for her driving. She drove 90% of the time, which allowed me to do a bit of computer work in the passenger seat.

The preparation phase of building to an Ironman is when I do quality thinking about ongoing projects, lifetime dreams, friendships, family, and my sport. I always end a training session feeling richer in thought and more motivated to “do” than before. Sometimes I wish I had a scratch pad and pen with me to jot down quick thoughts. I went so far as to create acronyms with the first letter of each person I was thinking about during my last 2-hour jaunt to ensure I would follow up with them. But when I am out for a focused training session, my whole existence is concentrated on the effort, the experience, and the flow of the movement. After those sessions, I find myself refreshed and fulfilled, with a sense of clarity to address life, work and responsibilities.

With three weeks to go until my 2008 Ironman event, I can wholeheartedly say my preparation and learning have been the best to date in my professional career as a triathlete. This past weekend I rode with Britni for the first time in a few weeks. We met in Lynden, Washington and climbed Mt Baker. The round trip was 6 hours and close to 180 kms. Fortunately we were both in the same mind space of enjoying a long ride together with no sets, no intervals, no tempo work—just ride, chat, listen to music, take in the scenery and bank the endurance. We did just that and had a few good laughs. We did end the weekend with a cold swim in Kits Pool, as mentioned, but we chalked it up to “flushing” more than a workout.

I would like to finish by sharing an email from my coach Kevin Purcell, who has just returned home from Italy after training under the founder of Active Release Technique (ART), Mike Leahy. It certainly gave me food for thought.

Kevin writes:

“The seminar is in Italy and while we have been quite busy in the classroom I have been able to get in a couple rides (some rain, some sun) in the Tuscan countryside. I look forward to sharing details and perhaps a couple photos. I do appreciate your patience as communication has been slowed and phone time almost nil. Some of us are already planning some time together to discuss key sessions or post race briefings as well as training nuances that always occur as we juggle work, family and sport. Lets keep working to communicate.

Interesting notes on communicating:

I don't speak Italian. However I get loads of information from eyes, hands, tones, inflections, smiles/frowns, head nods etc. I can tell when I have made someone happy or when I leaned my bike against the wrong building! The words are not always clear—so communication is not always perfect.

For us (you and I), we communicate so much via e-mail, it is important that we be extra vigilant in our efforts to share ideas, theories, feelings, concerns, pleasures, humor and frustrations. E-mail is an acquired skill. Why? Because while the words are crystal clear, we are absent the hands, the smiles, head nods, the tone or inflections that make communication for me in Italy possible at all.

One arena has fewer words / one arena fewer clues. Very important that you all remember we are on the same team and pulling in the same direction. I work for you and am here to help solve the puzzles we face in sport as they best fit into your busy daily lives. That puzzle is different for each of us and is why I enjoy my work so much. Never assume my meaning if you have questions. Always ask for clarification. Sometimes I think I am funny and you may think I am impatient. Much can be lost if we are not careful to consider the possibilities. The language barrier I have faced this week in Italy reminds me of these facts.”

Stay tuned & thank you!Christine

Napa Valley Half Ironman May 2008

2008-05-15T19:56:00.000-07:00

Welcome to racing in the Napa Valley: as we toed the start line, the race director announced that the only flat part of this course was going to be the lake, so we’d better enjoy it. The bike and run courses would be taking us either up or down. It was good to start my second half of the season with a laugh! The race took place on the outskirts of Napa Valley, California. My upstairs neighbour and dear friend Monica and her boyfriend Marc Perrot were my partners in crime for the weekend. With three bike boxes and overstuffed weekend duffel bags in tow, we turned some heads at the airport. Most people thought we were musicians traveling with a harp
or trombone. It was essential to rent the most transformable minivan we could find, and Chrysler came through for us! That Lee Iacocca really knew a thing or two about designing cars and vans. We stayed in a town called Fairfield, 12 miles outside of quaint Napa, and $300 a night cheaper. Wendy’s, MacDonald’s, and Denny’s were the only dining options around, but we quickly located a trusty Trader Joe’s store and brought dinner back to the comforts of our hotel room. I have met my eating match in Marc—he can definitely put back the calories. I was impressed with his attention to fueling and topping up his stores. Friday was a day of exploration and relaxation. As chauffeur, Marc navigated the minivan through 57 miles of twisting roads, switchbacks, and rolling hills to Lake Berryessa, the location of the race start. Without a person in sight, we thought we had come to the wrong venue. We city slickers carefully hid our van keys, stuffed our wallets under the van seats, and worried about our bikes going missing if we all swam in the lake together at the same time. Once I pointed out that there was not a soul in sight for miles, we laughed at our paranoia and headed out for a 20-20-10 swimming, biking, running suppleness session. A few friendly competitors rolled in to do the same, which confirmed we had in fact come to the right venue.
The roads were so winding and rolling that I requested the front seat, which Monica graciously offered up for fear of me losing my breakfast. We drove the course backwards and noted the level of difficulty this course would offer us on race day. I focused on the smooth parts of the road yet realized that these patches were few and far between. We all agreed to keep our wits about us so as not to fall into a pothole or ride off the cliffs. Fueling, pacing, and hydration
were going to be the keys to a solid ride. I was certainly coming to the race with a bit of fatigue in my body from the past three weeks of solid training. Yet, mentally and physically, I knew I was up for the race and felt a burning desire to give it 110 percent. The run was where I wanted to shine the most, knowing full well that this leg of the race would only be brilliant if I had taken care of things prior to that point. I shared this strategy with Marc and Monica so they too might take note for their own performance and race execution.

Race morning meant an early start. Our saving grace was the local Starbucks 24-hr drive thru! I think the Starbucks sales in the Napa Valley region increased tenfold while we were in town. We were all craving our special potion at about the same time each day, multiple times a day.
Our minivan pulled into transition at approximately 6:30 a.m., 90 minutes before race start. Marc and Monica were in steady form, eagerly preparing for their first half IM of the season. I was feeling calmly confident and excited for the day. I was almost more excited for it to be over so we could tell our stories and laugh at the idiosyncrasy of an event such as this.
With everything in place—no more tweaking, positioning, stretching, peeing, pumping, checking, or lathering left to do—we got the race underway at 8:00 a.m. I started as close to the front as I could and stayed there for the first lap of the swim. Come the second lap we were mixed in with the second and third swim waves and things got a bit busy with so many bodies in the water. I was second female to exit and passed the first female in the transition area. It was a decent hike to our bikes, which benefited the legs, sending blood and energy to the required muscles.
The ride did not disappoint. It was just as rolling, technical, and rollercoaster-like as it had been the day before. It played to my strengths brilliantly and I felt totally at one with the road. For most of the ride I was out there alone, with only the odd cyclist ahead. I rode aggressively while keeping the run in mind. By the two-hour mark, the sun was heating up and hydration was becoming more of a priority. I never once felt like I had drained my fuel tank permanently. I was completely in control of my pace (except for on the very steep climbs when my power would spike somewhat). Marc rode past just over halfway into the ride, at which point he immediately proceeded to slow down. Is that a guy thing? It was nice to have a familiar body in proximity yet we only exchanged a handful of words. He did witness another racer ask me for a swig of my water bottle. I found this quite odd since I was in the lead (hence focusing) and I only had a mouthful or two left with 16 miles to go. The course offered up some flatter sections towards the end along with a final steep climb and steeper descent into T2.
The speed bumps in and out of transition were likely the most disconcerting sections of the ride. I had to check if my bolts were all still intact when I rolled over them.
After locating my runners under two unfamiliar wetsuits, towels and empty water bottles, I headed out for the run. It took a solid 20 minutes to find my rhythm. But once I did, I locked it in as best I could. The run route was simple—out and back, twice—with a serious climb on the way out and an even more serious multi-stage climb on the return. We were protected from the wind so the sun was even hotter than it would have been with a slight breeze. I was never sure
of my lead but hoped it was more than three minutes. Katya Meyers (a pro and sports model) was behind me with a few others trailing behind her. It didn’t bother me that no one was biting at my ankles. I was racing for myself and for a performance indicative of my fitness. I could have been out there alone and I would have given the same effort. Marc was always close by but again we never really spoke other than when he was buckled over stretching his back. I muttered “You okay?” but I knew full well it would be a volunteer to assist him, not me. He got a second wind and finished up 2nd in his age group. Monica was charging along with a huge grin and strong stride. We got to high-five each other during her outbound leg and my inbound leg. The finish line was hugely satisfying as were the Advils I popped within moments of finishing. I finished with a respectable time of 4:42 and my best half-marathon split yet this year.
The Canucks cleaned up the awards. Monica was 2nd in her age group, Marc 2nd (in a very competitive division) and I was first female and 7th overall. We celebrated with a trip to Starbucks (just kidding), an Italian dinner in downtown Napa, and some serious shopping in the Sports Basement on Sunday in San Francisco.
This race was a low-key event that worked into my schedule perfectly. It was an opportunity to test out some fitness, fueling and race-pace efforts. My coach, Kevin, says that my race data, heart rates and wattage, is textbook based on our predictions.
Next up is Ironman Coeur D’Alene on June 22nd. If the timing works out, I may jump into a half ironman in Victoria, BC on May 25th. The racing scene is picking up on all fronts: running, cycling, triathlon and multisports. It is great to see everyone streaming outdoors, ready to play in the sunshine. Mother Nature tells me we are in for a hot one!
Christine

Dedication & Consistency in Sport

2008-04-24T20:20:00.000-07:00

Lately, I’ve given some thought to what kind of athlete inspires me. There are so many individual athletes, both elite and recreational, who serve as role models for me. They all share one defining characteristic: unwavering dedication.

I am inspired by runners like Ryan Hall (U.S. half marathon national champion, and the first American to break the one-hour barrier at that distance) and Paula Radcliffe (women’s world marathon record holder, with a time of 2:15:25 in April 2003). While both of them are blessed with a significant amount of genetic talent and have been able to draw on a complete support network throughout their athletic careers, they are still the ones who go out there every day and work hard, do the training and stay focused in hopes of continuing to occupy the pinnacle of their sport.

Ryan Hall would never have run a sub one-hour half marathon if he did not get in his steady tempo sessions, his critical speed workouts, if he had not gone to bed early each and every night, and fuelled his body diligently and focused his mental energy. Radcliffe would likely never have run 5:15 minute miles 26 times in a row, as she lived up to the expectations of spectators and race organizers, had she not dedicated her life to running by working for years with the same coach, surrounded herself with the best physical therapists and doctors, planned her training program to peak for a specific time of year and put in countless double run sessions a day.

These two athletes have enjoyed huge success, and define the very top level of achievement in their sport. But it isn’t their phenomenally fast pace itself that inspires me; it is their unwavering dedication to the relentless training regimen required to succeed.

Hall and Radcliffe are able to focus their entire lives around this dedicated quest for athletic success; most of us have to work hard to carve out time for our athletic endeavours. I am equally inspired by this type of dedication, of the busy father who gets up before dawn to fit in his workout, or the top executive who squeezes in a run every day despite her overpacked schedule. Jobs, children, spouses, and all the rigours of everyday life cannot be pushed aside by the recreational athlete, so every achievement is all the more hard-won, and worthy of celebration.

The dedication shown by such athletes is just as impressive as that of elite athletes because the motivation is purely intrinsic and empowerment of self is the reward. I have met many senior corporate executives running major corporations, leading talented teams of employees and managing millions of dollars with extreme competence, strategic thinking and intelligence, who “all of a sudden” decide to register for a triathlon, a 10 km race or a major cycle trip. They may never have swum, ridden or run before but they are ready to learn the ropes and invest in the gear and find a challenge. Some even approach their new sport like a business: they plan their workouts, log their split times, count their calories, research the gear and acquire only the top notch carbon fibre, super light or aerodynamic training tools. Nothing makes me smile more than to see these high-powered individuals enjoying the challenge of an activity that brings new rewards and adventure into their lives.

No matter what the performance level of the athlete, in order to pursue a goal and to find success, we all need to focus on consistency and dedication. Enjoyment and accomplishment are sure to follow. I often remind myself to be dedicated and consistent when I reflect on what I have accomplished and where I want to go, and the journey along the way. I’ve been an athlete long enough, as a long-distance runner, road cyclist and Ironman triathlete, to know that there will be ebbs and flows, injury and energy, focus and distraction, but in the grand scheme of things it is my consistency that will allow me to be healthy, strong and fit. That, coupled with my dedication to the program, the plan and the goal, will get me closer to reaching my performance potential. There is no substitute, no easy short-cut.

This summer I raced in Lake Stevens, Washington. It was a 70.3 Half Ironman event (www.ironman70.3.com). I had the pleasure of racing alongside Heather Gollnick, Melissa Ashton, Rebecca Keats and Heather Fuhr, all full-time pro athletes and multiple Ironman champions at one time or another in their careers. Heather Fuhr is likely the most decorated of all the women who raced on that day, and I was thrilled to have finished just a mere 3 minutes behind her, in 7th place. What was most impressive about Fuhr was the way she ran by me like I was jogging on the spot. I watched her fly by and thought to myself, “I aspire to run at that speed and I know with work and consistency, I can.” On the backside of our calves our ages were written in ink. I glanced down at Heather’s calves and read “39”. She has seven years on me in life and likely 10 more in triathlon. She didn’t just wake up one day as a speedy runner. It took dedication and consistency. At first I felt deflated when I saw Heather run by but quickly I turned this mental blip into energy, and focused on the quality of my own run. It was like putting money in the bank for my big picture goal and moved me one small step closer to my athletic potential. And ultimately, it is my untapped potential that keeps me motivated, consistent and dedicated.

I often ask my coach, Paul Cross, what we could do differently to improve my performance. We tackle the issue from all angles and this year we have added a number of new approaches. We’ve experimented with strategies to improve my run, my nutrition, my explosive power and strength, and my equipment and stride. When we are gearing up for a race, I always get the same reminder from him: “This week is no time for games.” In other words, stay dedicated to the program and consistent with the training plan. We both know I will not become a sub 1:20 half marathoner or a 55-minute 4 km Ironman swimmer overnight, but every day is another opportunity to improve on what I did yesterday and to prepare myself for my race day goal.

It is just a few more weeks until my second Ironman of the year, on home turf, at Ironman Canada. It’s an event that I love because of its location (Penticton, BC) and the course. The course suits my strengths and my preference of racing in a lake with a hilly bike loop and a glorious out-and-back run course. My mom, sister-in-law and “mother-in-law” are coming to watch. My mother is a veteran Ironman spectator (god bless her) so she will have the pleasure of shepherding Caroline and Elisabeth around 140.2 miles of water and road for some 10-plus hours. Countless friends will be racing alongside me, all of whom were also diligent in their training and committed to their goals. I commend and thank them because, together, we enhance each other’s experience and spend long hours training together in hopes of getting to the same start line fit, fresh, focused and committed to the effort ahead.

So when I read about people like Paula or Ryan, or see performances first-hand like Heather’s, or interact with the businessman or woman or with the mother of four who just ran a 3:45 marathon, I applaud each and every one of them for their effort, their dedication, and their achievements. I think these people followed a process to get to where they are today, just like me. They trusted, put in the hours, followed a program, rested and believed in themselves and tapped into their potential as athletes and humans.

Christine

February Training Camp in San Diego

2008-02-10T20:50:00.000-08:00

When I was in Kona last October for the Ironman World Championships, my father made a major career decision. After 42 years of living and working in Montreal running the family business, he was offered a new career opportunity that would take him to Carlsbad, California, for at least 3 weeks of each month. It’s ironic to me that my father is living in the city that thrives on a culture of triathlon, running, cycling and holistic living—my dream city. Fortunately, he has enough room in his rented home to accommodate a visitor every once in a while.

While I was lucky enough to have had a few weeks of sunshine and warm weather while in Florida for the Christmas holidays, the month of January in Vancouver has been breaking weather records for rain, snow and cold temperatures. I always run outdoors, but it was rarely dry or warm enough to ride outside. The one time I tried it, I spent the rest of the day defrosting. My indoor Computrainer workouts have been creative enough to keep me motivated and consistent but I was certainly yearning for some scenery.

My first visit to “Casa Papa” in Carlsbad was in mid-January. I snuck out of town for a half-marathon on Sunday, January 20th. The race was a success, as I focused on building intensity and leaving some kick for the last few miles. Having not done one iota of speed work to date, race pace offered a terrific injection of intensity (top 12 female overall), I managed to finish strong, which is always a huge reward. Once back in wet Vancouver, I started to add some cycling hours into my weekly training and hosted Britni Bakk, my ultimate training partner, in my garage for an epic day of riding and running. We encouraged each other to stay strong for the entire five hours we sweated it out.

Britni was preparing for a wind tunnel test in San Diego in the beginning of February. She encouraged me to come along for our own self-run, week-long bike camp.

Britni and I arrived at Casa Papa on Saturday, February 4th. Tired, pale and overwhelmed by the potential hours we were going to log in the days ahead, we organized ourselves for our first day of riding with Kevin Purcell, my coach. We woke up to torrential weather on Sunday. Rain pounded down, and gusty winds howled from every direction. But surely, we thought, we can handle this—we are from Vancouver! Kevin was in full gear with 2400 calories on-board, and booties and multiple layers on top. Us girls, on the other hand, felt underdressed and ill-prepared. As we coasted along the ocean at 45 km/hour (tail wind), Britni rode through some glass and punctured her rented Zipp Tubulars. This mishap required us to stop for ten minutes to repair the puncture with popsicle fingers, blue lips and chattering teeth (thank you Kevin!). This entire scenario was not my idea of quality riding in California. I demanded a pit stop at Starbucks to warm up, but by now we were too chilled to recover. Kevin carried on (amazing!) and Britni and I sheepishly called for a taxi to take us home. We salvaged the day by finding treadmills under a rooftop and opted for a mid-length run to get our hearts working.

We started fresh on Monday and insisted on riding the exact route that had defeated us the day before: coastal through Camp Pendleton up to San Clemente. The sun was beaming, as it should in California. Kevin joined up for a “Take Two.” This was my first ride with Kevin so it was great to have him see me on the bike. We headed out at an easy clip, before upping the pace and effort while riding on the camp’s grounds and pathways. After a lengthy but wonderful stop at a bakery in San Clemente we headed back. Ride time was upwards of 5.5 hours. Britni and I did a short run off the bike to stretch out our legs and feel the post-ride burn!

Tuesday was Britni’s test day so she ventured into San Diego for the morning and experimented with the experts on positioning, equipment and pacing. I decided to try out the UCSD Masters Swim Program (18 lanes of 25 yards!) at 6:00 a.m., followed by a run through Del Mar. We met for an easy spin in the afternoon down to La Jolla and already she was looking more aero and sleek!

Wednesday was a moderately epic day. We had a late-morning ride planned with Kevin that would take us up some gnarly climbs inland from the coast. With that in mind, we wanted to save some juice for the afternoon yet still squeeze in a swim and run. The two of us swam again with UCSD and jogged around the campus for half an hour. I was feeling pretty stoked to be heading inland for the infamous climbing plus I was excited to explore the backcountry. As always, the plan was to head out easy, and save something for the end. Seems we were all successful in following this plan. It was an out-and-back route with the turnaround in a tiny town called Santa Ysabel. Kevin snacked on a pound of processed turkey full of sodium, protein and fat. This gave Britni and I the giggles for the rest of the afternoon. Kevin and I worked well together on a twisty backcountry ride, the Old Julien Highway. We stuck together and navigated the turns and descents to ensure the fastest yet safest path home. Britni isn’t much for sitting on the back of a wheel so we were always making sure she was just around the bend. With gusto and charm, she always was. We were back to our cars in 4.5 hours, sufficiently spent but high on adrenaline.

Thursday was classified as a highly epic day. My body was certainly feeling the work and hours we were putting in on our bikes but it didn’t seem to be draining my strength or enthusiasm, so I was fairly eager to go long and climb high that morning. Kevin and Britni were less exuberant but willing troupers. We all left Casa Papa with some uncertainty of ride length, destination and best roads to follow. Normally I am one to have the exact route laid out but for some reason we left our plans wide open, and paid for it later. The end result: 12,000 feet of climbing, 7:18 hours of riding, thousands of calories consumed, and one hitch hike, taxi ride and many emotions later, we arrived back at Casa Papa, in one piece, but exhausted and depleted. Kevin and I were communicating without words after the six-hour marker. He has a fun thread to read about the ride:

http://www.coachkp.com/cgi-bin/config.pl?read=4617

Neither Britni nor I knew how we were going to feel on Friday. Regardless, we planned on swimming at 6:00 a.m. with a new swim group out of Oceanside. The air temperature was close to 5 degrees in the morning so jumping into an outdoor pool was a bracing beginning to the day. Our body temperatures plummeted while we changed into our run clothing to jog the race course of the California Half Ironman (the next race on our schedules-March 31st, 2008). It’s a beautiful route that parallels the beach in Oceanside and rolls through a residential area for two loops of 10 kilometres. We ran one loop and headed straight to Starbucks, followed by a well-deserved afternoon of rest, recuperation, a tour of my Dad’s Carlsbad-based office (Ashworth Inc.) and shopping therapy with my mom.

Saturday was our last day on the bikes. Britni and I made it a “girls’ ride only” and downloaded a route from the Map My Ride website, which highlights an endless variety of routes from around the world. This one was supposed to be 123 km. Due to a typo in my scribbled directions, we turned it into a 160 km ride and saw more of the county than we bargained for. Once onto the right roads (Gopher Canyon Road and Old Castle Road) we were charging aero up and down the rolling hills and navigating tight switchbacks. Our biggest climb was up Cole Grade Road, which when looking at a flat map that morning hardly seemed intimidating. Britni, in her 23 cassette, had her endurance, strength and weights workout built into one! For whatever reason, neither of us was bothered by the 6 hours on the bike that day. We were both happy to be pedaling along through some of the most glorious and cycling-friendly countryside we’d ridden. I will vividly remember riding the last stretch of our homemade route: down Rancho Sante Fe to a right on La Costa Ave (love the names of the streets) to a right into Casa Papa’s driveway. We slipped on our runners and headed out for a jog down the boulevard towards the ocean. Again, we just mimicked the running motion and saved the tough intervals for another day.

The biggest workout is always packing after a week of training. The duties include doing last-minute laundry, packing the bike, leaving out morning workout clothes, breakfast food, one water bottle, a gel or two and your heart-rate monitor. I had convinced Britni to stay an extra night so that we could do get in one more quality workout: a half-marathon race in San Dieguito County. We woke up at 5:00 a.m. to run 21.1 kilometres on very tired legs (not unlike an Ironman). Pre-race I was feeling sheepish about convincing Britni to punish herself further, since I knew the race would be a suffer fest. However, in true San Diego style, hundreds of healthy, fit people toed the start line and motivated us to put our best race face on. We started the race together, but somehow separated as we climbed one of many steep and long hills, only to reconnect after the finish, both with smiling, satisfied faces and mutually admitting that we did in fact have some kick left in our legs. My parents were there to greet us at the finish and share in some of the wonderful post-race energy.

After the race, Britni and I drove directly to Starbucks, changed into our plane clothes, ordered our venti, extra-hot, extra-foamy, no-whip, no-sugar, no-water soymilk green tea matcha lattes and drove straight to the airport, bound for the cooler temperatures of Vancouver.

I think I should approach Starbucks about a sponsorship deal.

Comments/feedback: cfletcher@fletcherlg.com

Ironman Hawaii - Race Report 2007

2007-10-13T20:17:00.000-07:00

My decision to add a third Ironman to my season was a last-minute one. Racing in Kona is always a privilege, and it offered another opportunity to practice a new nutrition plan and to implement some new mental techniques I had been working on. I was excited to be back in Hawaii, and had no expectations other than to have a great time. It was a celebration of my hard work, and a chance to race with the best of the best from around the world.

The week prior to the race lived up to its reputation, as the town of Kailua-Kona was overtaken by an international cadre of fitness fanatics. The coffee shops, highways, bike stores and supermarkets buzzed with triathletes preparing for the big day. The high energy of my co-athletes didn’t faze me at all—I was inspired by the experience and interaction. I found myself feeling quite relaxed all week. Perhaps a few fleeting moments of panic and anxiety seeped into my subconscious but they were quickly tamed by empowering thoughts and positive imagery. When I decided to attend the Welcome Ceremony the Thursday before the race, I knew I was in a relaxed frame of mind. Usually, I wouldn’t go near a jam-packed event right before a race, especially one characterized by long speeches and a skimpy supply of food. I was motivated to engage with others since I had both my mom and my two good friends, Alyssa and Scott, on the island with me, there to watch the race unfold.

My alarm was set for 4:00 a.m. on race morning. It felt early but I was up. From our less than luxurious condo, I could hear the ocean crashing on the lava rocks. The sky was clear black with stars shining brightly. Perhaps this was a sign of a blue sky day despite there being late afternoon cloud cover all week. Race anxiety was brewing inside but I knew the feeling was normal and I found calmness in thinking strong positive thoughts, walking tall and deciding that no matter what the day presented, I was going to smile and welcome the pain and effort.

As I looked around at the athletes surrounding me, the influence of technology and aerodynamics could be spotted everywhere, with both pros and amateurs. The vast majority of the competitors sported the newest speed swimsuits, aero helmets, deep-dish race wheels, lightweight running shoes and compression socks. Amazingly enough, Chrissie Wellington, who ended up winning the women’s race, wore her regular old “open vent” training helmet as she out-split the entire female field. Her “come out of nowhere” win was likely the biggest surprise of the day.

But back to the start line. My arms were numbered, my tires were pumped, my mom was hugged, my chip was on my right ankle and my goggles were sealed to my eye sockets. I didn’t see Alyssa and Scott before the start but I knew they were out there watching the start of this prestigious event. Alyssa, being my swim partner, was surely sending me energy for a speedy swim start. With a few minutes to start, the announcer informed the field that the legendary surfer, Laird Hamilton, would lead the swim start for the professional athletes. What a treat!

The swim start was explosive as always. I stayed in with a big pack until halfway to the turnaround. When I lost contact, I settled in with a smaller pack, which felt a bit slow but it was worth saving energy for the day. My mind was focused on a smooth and strong pull while sighting every third breath. The swells were alive and churning for the swim. Being one to have a sensitive internal system, I was feeling a bit woozy towards the end of the swim. No matter, I told myself, I would give this feeling no energy and would instead focus on having a great day. All my motions were deliberate through transition and on to the bike.

As we all headed out on to the famous Queen’s K Highway for 56 miles of lava fields, the sun unleashed its ferocious heat. I started on my nutrition plan within 20 minutes of getting on the bike. My first sip is always an indication of how my body is feeling. If my body can accept the liquid, I am in good shape for the day. If it revolts at the thought of a swig, there might be tough times ahead. On the bike, my body hovered between accepting and refusing my fuel. In any given moment, I did what I could to feel strong and powerful yet I knew that with the salt caking around my cheeks, I could have benefited from increasing my salt by a few hundred milligrams per hour. This is an awesome example of why I go back to the challenge. I love to experiment, and to strive for that perfect balance that will bring out the best performance.

The bike ride is rarely lonely since the age group men charge past you in a peloton, tempting a penalty. It seems an impossible situation for the referees when sixty men are clumped together along a straight line of highway. For the female pros, we must always back down if we want to avoid a four-minute stop.

The heat was at an all-time high during our stretch home. Even though I didn’t have my game legs attached to my body, I kept smiling and waving and devouring the experience. The crowds of people in town are so welcoming and proud of each of us, from the first to the last. Prior to my final turn down Makala Road towards T2, I spotted Chris Lieto, in a universe of his own, running down the highway in first place. Not another soul was in sight. I was sure he had it in the bag. Lieto is one of the strongest bikers on the triathlon scene. He won Ironman Canada in 2005, the same year I was third. I admire his talent since he has endured painful injuries and upsets over the course of his career.

The best thing about the bike-to-run transition is the cold towel the volunteers drape over your shoulders prior to sending you off on the run. It’s like a gift from heaven that brings you back to life. I was actually looking forward to the marathon, happy to be upright and testing out my new Zoot runners. I had two flasks in hand: one with water and one with Accelerade in it. The water went down but the Accelerade was nowhere near my mouth. If it wasn’t for the cheering spectators, home-made signs of encouragement and my enduring spirit, I may have packed it in, since my goal was to enjoy the day. The 8-mile stretch out along Alii Drive and back is humid, flat and crowded with people. At mile 4, I knew my energy was running low so I was going to have to start on the Coca-Cola 18 miles sooner than I had anticipated. After chugging 4 ounces of Coke, I felt like I was plugged back in, but the socket wouldn’t hold tight, and my pace soon slowed to a crawl. As I headed up Palani Road, my mom was cheering loudly, but instead of acknowledging her, I turned to the aid station and asked for more Coke. She knew my nutrition plan and thought this may not have been a good sign. Nonetheless, I stuck to my promise of smiling and waving, despite being in survival mode.

At mile 18, my body had finally had enough. I was no longer willing to use sponges or ice water to cool my body down, since it was feeling chilled, even in the 90-degree weather. Others were suffering as well, and all the men that had sped past me on the bike were now starting to walk. The highway portion of the run is also where we get some race scoop. I heard that Chris McCormick won the men’s race, having made up a big deficit from the bike, that Norman Stadler dropped out because he was throwing up on the bike (or maybe he heard there would be drug testing), that Natascha Badmann rode into a pylon and crashed, that Michellie Jones withdrew due to a blown ear drum, and that pros were dropping like flies. Each Ironman has a lesson to teach even the most experienced racer.

At mile 22, I traded places with Desiree Ficker (who placed second last year). I thought about running with her just to have some company. Instead, I quipped, “Just think, we could still be on the bike.” With one mile to go in the World Ironman Championships, I spotted my mom on the sidelines, cheering for my final journey home. I tossed her my Zoot visor, since after 25 miles my forehead needed some breathing space. This gave her just enough time to bolt down the block to see my smiling face at the finish line. After the volunteers walked me to through the finish line chute, I found my mom waiting for me just inside the spectators’ holding bin. We hugged, laughed and reminisced about the day. For my mom, the craziest part was just how happy I was despite her knowing it was not the outcome we had hoped for. She admitted this to me only the day after the race.

The finish line is like the walkway to heaven. And this year, it lived up to my expectations: plush, bright, deafening, surreal, satisfying, addicting and empowering. My arms went up, my face was flush with relief and my heart was full of appreciation for the support from strangers and loved ones. Of course, I wanted to have the outcome I know I am capable of but on this day, it didn’t matter. I got so much more out of the experience than I could have even anticipated and it came from the never-ending smile on my face, that stayed there throughout the trials of the day.

Congratulations to Britni Bakk, who placed first in her age division and secured a spot to Kona for 2008. And to Tara Norton, who was in 10th place for most of the day until she lost two spots within the final few miles. Thank you to Alyssa and Scott for cheering all day (they stayed until midnight and claim the race really only gets going after 12 hours, when a party takes place on the finish line carpet). And to Warren for making me feel like he was as much there to cheer for me as for his own wife. For those of you who read my reports on a regular basis, you’ll notice that my mom rarely misses an Ironman. She is my ultimate encouragement and pillar of unwavering strength and without her, the day would never be the same.

You’ll catch me at yoga and movies for the next short while. And since I had so much fun in Kona, I am all the more excited for next year!

Mahalo!
Christine

My Perfect Race - Ironman Hawaii, Kona 2007

2007-10-01T20:14:00.000-07:00

Less than 2 weeks until Ironman Hawaii and my sixth time back to the Big Island to toe the start line. Having finished Ironman Canada a mere five weeks ago, it’s been a quick build to longer workouts while also making sure my body is well recovered and ready for another test of endurance. It took a good two weeks to settle my body and emotions after Ironman Canada. I was almost unrecognizable due to the edema in my face, hands, knees and ankles so I stayed low profile for as long as I could. After some long sleeps and well deserved hot fudge Sunday’s, I started back with some base training miles. Fortunately, I had company for most of the early sessions so it was most enjoyable.

Ironman Canada taught me so much about the importance of planned nutrition and the tape recorder that plays over and over in my head. And I knew then, as much as I know now, I will plan to never repeat a day like that again. Yes, I am thankful for having the lesson because it made me a better athlete. It gave me a chance to start anew with a fresh page. Like clean sheets and a fresh pillow, my build to Kona is about a new reality and planning for a day I want to have. Sounds simple? Well, you’d be surprised how many athletes plan for the day they fear, myself included.

Everyday since Ironman Canada, I have been laying the groundwork for a perfect day in Kona. I love this quote from one of my sports books, Mind Gym by Gary Mack - “Learn from the past. Prepare for the future. Perform in the present.” This saying resonates with me since it takes into account experience, forecasting and the moment in time.

My attitude towards Kona is quite relaxed. With friends and family coming along, I will savor the experience and love everything the race and the island send my way. In all my recent training sessions, I have solely focusing on the process, my form and my strength as my body passes through the water, the wind and over the road. With each passing day, I feel more excited about the upcoming challenge and more ready to test all this wonderful fitness I am building. Each day has been another opportunity to practice my mental focus, hone in my cue words and paint my picture of a perfect race day.

September 30th was my last key training session. It was pouring rain outside so I took the session indoors to Innovative Fitness. My preparations for this key day started well before Sunday morning. On Friday, I reviewed the nutrition plan for a 4.5 hour Computrainer Session and a 50-minute treadmill run (broken into 2 phases of Bike-Run / Bike Run). In fact, it turned out to be a perfect opportunity to practice race day nutrition minus the swim and pain at the end of the marathon. Friday evening was purposefully restful. On Saturday, I rode easy with friends followed by a time consuming session of nutrition preparation for Sunday. Eight water bottles later, I calculate and assemble my salt and gels requirements. Once I knew I had everything measured, bottled and bagged, I put my legs up for the entire evening to watch Grey’s Anatomy repeats.

Sunday morning felt just like a race morning as I rehearsed my mental mantra and mustered up some serious physical strength for the day’s work. Breakfast came early, as did its digestion (thankfully). Once my supplies, dry clothes and recovery nutrition were packed, I rolled over to Innovative to begin the day. My set up was yet another perfect opportunity to practice process instead of the long day ahead. Step One: post power words to the wall for both the bike session and run sessions. Step Two: plant nutrition exactly where it would be needed and at what intervals. Step Three: turn inward for five and half hours and focus on the task at hand. With almost no breaks in the action, I pedaled and ran my way into more fitness and endurance than I had before the session but, more importantly, I stayed focused with a sense of calmness and resiliency.

What lies ahead are shorter sharpening workouts and rest. I know my body will be feeling more energized as the days move forward. My coach, Paul Cross, and I have worked out the plans for the last stretch both knowing that them most important thing is to visualize the day I want to have and fill my body with nutritious fuel to top up all the energy stores.

Share The Dream. Christine

Consistency and Dedication, July 2007

2007-07-09T10:09:00.000-07:00

Lately, I’ve given some thought to what kind of athlete inspires me. There are so many individual athletes, both elite and recreational, who serve as role models for me. They all share one defining characteristic: unwavering dedication.

I am inspired by runners like Ryan Hall (U.S. half marathon national champion, and the first American to break the one-hour barrier at that distance) and Paula Radcliffe (women’s world marathon record holder, with a time of 2:15:25 in April 2003). While both of them are blessed with a significant amount of genetic talent and have been able to draw on a complete support network throughout their athletic careers, they are still the ones who go out there every day and work hard, do the training and stay focused in hopes of continuing to occupy the pinnacle of their sport.

Ryan Hall would never have run a sub one-hour half marathon if he did not get in his steady tempo sessions, his critical speed workouts, if he had not gone to bed early each and every night, and fuelled his body diligently and focused his mental energy. Radcliffe would likely never have run 5:15 minute miles 26 times in a row, as she lived up to the expectations of spectators and race organizers, had she not dedicated her life to running by working for years with the same coach, surrounded herself with the best physical therapists and doctors, planned her training program to peak for a specific time of year and put in countless double run sessions a day.

These two athletes have enjoyed huge success, and define the very top level of achievement in their sport. But it isn’t their phenomenally fast pace itself that inspires me; it is their unwavering dedication to the relentless training regimen required to succeed.

Hall and Radcliffe are able to focus their entire lives around this dedicated quest for athletic success; most of us have to work hard to carve out time for our athletic endeavours. I am equally inspired by this type of dedication, of the busy father who gets up before dawn to fit in his workout, or the top executive who squeezes in a run every day despite her overpacked schedule. Jobs, children, spouses, and all the rigours of everyday life cannot be pushed aside by the recreational athlete, so every achievement is all the more hard-won, and worthy of celebration.

The dedication shown by such athletes is just as impressive as that of elite athletes because the motivation is purely intrinsic and empowerment of self is the reward. I have met many senior corporate executives running major corporations, leading talented teams of employees and managing millions of dollars with extreme competence, strategic thinking and intelligence, who “all of a sudden” decide to register for a triathlon, a 10 km race or a major cycle trip. They may never have swum, ridden or run before but they are ready to learn the ropes and invest in the gear and find a challenge. Some even approach their new sport like a business: they plan their workouts, log their split times, count their calories, research the gear and acquire only the top notch carbon fibre, super light or aerodynamic training tools. Nothing makes me smile more than to see these high-powered individuals enjoying the challenge of an activity that brings new rewards and adventure into their lives.

No matter what the performance level of the athlete, in order to pursue a goal and to find success, we all need to focus on consistency and dedication. Enjoyment and accomplishment are sure to follow. I often remind myself to be dedicated and consistent when I reflect on what I have accomplished and where I want to go, and the journey along the way. I’ve been an athlete long enough, as a long-distance runner, road cyclist and Ironman triathlete, to know that there will be ebbs and flows, injury and energy, focus and distraction, but in the grand scheme of things it is my consistency that will allow me to be healthy, strong and fit. That, coupled with my dedication to the program, the plan and the goal, will get me closer to reaching my performance potential. There is no substitute, no easy short-cut.

This summer I raced in Lake Stevens, Washington. It was a 70.3 Half Ironman event (http://www.ironman70.3.com/). I had the pleasure of racing alongside Heather Gollnick, Melissa Ashton, Rebecca Keats and Heather Fuhr, all full-time pro athletes and multiple Ironman champions at one time or another in their careers. Heather Fuhr is likely the most decorated of all the women who raced on that day, and I was thrilled to have finished just a mere 3 minutes behind her, in 7th place. What was most impressive about Fuhr was the way she ran by me like I was jogging on the spot. I watched her fly by and thought to myself, “I aspire to run at that speed and I know with work and consistency, I can.” On the backside of our calves our ages were written in ink. I glanced down at Heather’s calves and read “39”. She has seven years on me in life and likely 10 more in triathlon. She didn’t just wake up one day as a speedy runner. It took dedication and consistency. At first I felt deflated when I saw Heather run by but quickly I turned this mental blip into energy, and focused on the quality of my own run. It was like putting money in the bank for my big picture goal and moved me one small step closer to my athletic potential. And ultimately, it is my untapped potential that keeps me motivated, consistent and dedicated.

I often ask my coach, Paul Cross, what we could do differently to improve my performance. We tackle the issue from all angles and this year we have added a number of new approaches. We’ve experimented with strategies to improve my run, my nutrition, my explosive power and strength, and my equipment and stride. When we are gearing up for a race, I always get the same reminder from him: “This week is no time for games.” In other words, stay dedicated to the program and consistent with the training plan. We both know I will not become a sub 1:20 half marathoner or a 55-minute 4 km Ironman swimmer overnight, but every day is another opportunity to improve on what I did yesterday and to prepare myself for my race day goal.

It is just a few more weeks until my second Ironman of the year, on home turf, at Ironman Canada. It’s an event that I love because of its location (Penticton, BC) and the course. The course suits my strengths and my preference of racing in a lake with a hilly bike loop and a glorious out-and-back run course. My mom, sister-in-law and “mother-in-law” are coming to watch. My mother is a veteran Ironman spectator (god bless her) so she will have the pleasure of shepherding Caroline and Elisabeth around 140.2 miles of water and road for some 10-plus hours. Countless friends will be racing alongside me, all of whom were also diligent in their training and committed to their goals. I commend and thank them because, together, we enhance each other’s experience and spend long hours training together in hopes of getting to the same start line fit, fresh, focused and committed to the effort ahead.

So when I read about people like Paula or Ryan, or see performances first-hand like Heather’s, or interact with the businessman or woman or with the mother of four who just ran a 3:45 marathon, I applaud each and every one of them for their effort, their dedication, and their achievements. I think these people followed a process to get to where they are today, just like me. They trusted, put in the hours, followed a program, rested and believed in themselves and tapped into their potential as athletes and humans.

Christine

Baja Half Ironman, Ensenada, Mexico – May 21st, 2006

2006-05-21T10:04:00.000-07:00

Traveling to various cities around the world for triathlon races has made me all the more appreciative of what I have here at home, not only in Vancouver but also in Canada. My recent trip to Ensenada, Mexico, a city just 70 miles south of San Diego, was a good reminder of how fortunate we are to have clean streets, smooth road surfaces, trustworthy drinking water (for the most part), space in our backyards and roofs over our heads.

The purpose of my trip to Baja was to launch my racing season. Even though I tested my fitness in a half marathon in February, a half Ironman in March, a 10km running race in April, and a cycling time trial and a duathlon in mid-May, this was the first time I would rest and put on my race face. The Baja Half Ironman is part of the new 70.3 (a half Ironman distance in miles) Race Series, owned by Ironman North America. Each 70.3 race is a qualifier for the 70.3 world championships on November 11th in Clearwater, Florida. Fortunately, I qualified at the half IM in March, so the pressure to earn a spot was off at Baja.

Race day was Sunday and I traveled down on Wednesday night. I arrived at the San Diego Airport hopeful that someone from the race organization would be there to pick me up and take me through the border to Mexico (something my mother was dreading). No one from the race had returned my calls or emails in the three weeks prior to the race. All I had to rely on was one brief conversation a month earlier with the race director, who said, “Yes, no problem, someone will be at the airport to pick you up.” As I discovered, Mexicans always say, “Yes, no problem, everything is wonderful,” even if the world is crashing down around them. It’s a commendably positive attitude, but you can’t always rely on truth behind the sentiment!

Five minutes after deplaning, I spotted a man holding a sign that said “Christine Fletcher.” I made a quick phone call to my parents to tell them everything was okay and a few more phone calls to tie up loose ends, since my cellular access would end for five days as soon as we crossed the border. My driver took me to my quaint motel, called Villa Fontana, located in the heart of Ensenada. The only thing that looked familiar to me in town were the golden arches of McDonalds, which ended up being my fine-dining destination that first night. I figured I could trust Ronald.

Brian’s first email to me emphasized the importance of figuring out my food situation. He told me to find out where my food was coming from. Where were the grocery stores? Where could I buy bottled water? Were there reliable restaurants in which to eat dinner? Where was a coffee shop? I tried to address this priority but the grocery stores are not like ours and, of course, neither are the food choices. A normal loaf of bread just didn’t seem to exist. I found some bananas, yogurt and bottled water to store in my room. Outside of dinners, I relied on the snacks I brought from home.

On Thursday, I was happy to meet up with friends from Vancouver: Stephen Holmes, president of Triathlon Canada, and Cullen Goodyear, an avid Ironman athlete in the 60-65-age category. As we discovered, it was impossible to “train” in Ensenada. The road surface is horrendous, there are no public pools for swimming, and there are very few routes to run without traffic lights, big trucks and exhaust fumes. I did the bare minimum, which also ensured I was rested on race day.

On Friday the three of us, and every other competitor, took on the daunting task of learning the recently modified racecourse, following protocol to get registered, identifying the two transitions and coming to the realization that this was a first-year event with many overlooked logistical details. The biggest lesson of the day came as we drove the new 90-kilometre bike course (changed without warning to the competitors) from the town of Ensenada to a derelict town called Las Mision. The outgoing route consisted of a huge climb to 3,000 feet, rolling hills and a steep descent with tight switchbacks and dangerous cliffs. We would turn 180 degrees around an orange cone and come back the same route in reverse. No one could have anticipated such an epic course for a first-year event.

By Saturday I was beginning to feel like I had been there a bit long. I was missing my cell phone and email communication. Without distractions, however, I had plenty of time to rest, stretch and write my race plan. The day revolved around checking in our gear bags to the swim-to-bike transition and the bike-to-run transition, attending the pre-race meeting and getting to bed early. With the best intentions, the organizers began the meeting on time, even though hundreds of people were still upstairs in line to register. Much to the organizers’ dismay, the competitors had many more questions than could have been anticipated. What was supposed to be a brief 45-minute meeting turned into a 3-hour barrage of questions. What is being served on the course? Will there be transportation in the morning? Where do we pick up our bikes after the race? Do we wear our race number during the bike? What are the cut-off times? Must we check our bikes in today? Will the water be bottled on the course? How many aid stations? The questions were endless. The organizers were quick to reassure but knew they had some work to do before 5 a.m. the next morning.

I was feeling good. My body was rested and I was emotionally ready to race. I also noticed that every top female pro triathlete from San Diego had jumped in her car to come race. This would be a wonderfully challenging field and an excellent test of my current fitness. I knew I had no excuse to race well.

Race morning began at 4:30 a.m. Still full from dinner the night before, I stuffed down half a bagel, a banana with peanut butter, coffee and a bottle of water. Later in the morning I tried to eat a yogurt, but it held no appeal at all. My main concerns were ensuring that my tubular tires on my Specialized rocket were pumped up properly by the race mechanic, performing a decent warm-up and getting into my wetsuit early so I could adjust to the temperature of the ocean. Our bikes hung on dilapidated railings that sagged in the middle. The first four racks were dedicated to the pros’ bikes. This was the only sense of organization the transitions had, otherwise it was a multimillion-dollar-equipment free-for-all. With my tires pumped to 170 psi and my helmet, shoes and fuel placed to perfection, I headed out for a 15-minute jog. The highway was the only access road from transition. Within 5 minutes I ran into a vicious dog showing me his sharp teeth and threatening to taste my ankles. Since my girlfriend, Tara Norton, had just been bitten by a dog during her training run in St. Croix, I decided to turn on my heel and forgo a lengthy warm-up.

The athletes began to funnel to the waterfront with about 15 minutes left before the race started. The pro men were to start at 7:00 a.m. and the pro women at 7:02 a.m. The age group athletes would follow our lead. At 6:50 a.m. the announcer informed us that many athletes were just arriving due to the lack of transportation from town. This upset delayed the race by 45 minutes. The wait felt like a lifetime of standing in anticipation of the start gun.

Once the race got underway, I quickly found some feet to draft off of—those of Kate Major, who has twice finished third2-time at the World Ironman championships. With only four buoys to guide us around a 2-kilometre swim course, I knew I needed someone with experience to rely on for sighting the course, and she was a good choice. I was so excited to exit the water with Kate in just over 28 minutes. My best swim ever.

Kate was quick to exit transition but I caught up to her 10 kilometres into the ride and held strong for the outgoing portion of the ride. As we returned, she slowly pulled away from me. My legs felt so strong during the ride. I lost some momentum and concentration during the return due to the head winds and my unappetizing nutrition, but I kept repeating the word “strong” to refocus. I was 8th pro female coming into T2. This was the same position I held until the end of the race.

The double-loop run began at the port of Ensenada. My stomach immediately began to slosh as I headed out on the run, a signal that I was sodium deprived. I needed some electrolytes, to help me absorb the fluids into my cells. The volunteers handed out water and Coke in baggies and Gatorade in cups, but there was no gel or salt to be found. I held my modest pace but could not muster more speed in fear of upsetting my stomach. At this point, I wanted to hold onto a top 10 finish and sub 5-hour half Ironman. I achieved both goals, and best of all, I was only a few minutes behind Kate. I only found out my finishing time after the race, because the organizers forgot to install a finish-line clock! Surely they will hear about this oversight from every obsessive-compulsive type A triathlete who was gunning for a personal best and can’t wait to find out the results.

I was ready for a shower and a change of clothes within minutes of finishing. My motel was a mere two blocks from the finish area. I walked over to the bike depot to collect my Specialized rocket. I was confronted with 1,000 bikes lined up next to each other in ten rows—no system, no numbers, nothing to indicate which bike was yours. The volunteer monitor asked me, “What colour is your bike?” I laughed as I said red—as if mine was the only red bike there! So we walked up and down each aisle looking for my red bike, only to find it in the last row, tucked in between two other red bikes.

Stephen and Cullen had their own adventures. Stephen’s tri bars loosened due to the rattling from the poor road surface and Cullen missed getting her finish line t-shirt and medal. She raised hell about that. Together we laughed, cursed, and commiserated about our experiences. Personally, I have never appreciated the comforts of my bed more than after I returned from the so-called resort destination of Baja.

Next on my schedule is a sprint triathlon in Oliver, BC on June 18th and Ironman Coeur D’Alene on June 25th.

Christine

Sponsored by:
Innovative Fitness
John Henry Bikes
Specialized
Pearl Izumi
Aquaman Wetsuits

California Ford Half Ironman, March 18th, 2006

2006-04-18T10:05:00.000-07:00

March brings with it cherry blossoms, chocolate bunnies in the stores, and the start of the racing season for triathletes. In New Zealand, violent winds two weeks ago forced the Ironman organizers to cancel the swim and slash the bike and run distances in half. The following weekend, our local triathletes braved cool temperatures at the UBC triathlon. March 18th marked the race date for the Commonwealth Triathlon event in Melbourne as well as the California Ford Half Ironman in Oceanside (25 miles north of San Diego). Ready, set, go!

My season started, for the second year in a row, with the Half Ironman in California. There are some who poke fun at athletes who peak for this early season race, claiming that those who peak in March will be suffering by October. Yet who really knows how everyone’s season will play out? The winners of the event, Luke Bell and Michellie Jones, are both likely to have the last laugh as they master multiple peaks throughout the year. They are simply far superior performers to the rest of the field, and can win races even at sub-peak fitness.

I had three goals for this race. First, this event marked the beginning of my race season and would fire up my race muscles. Second, this event was intended to test my run fitness. Third, I was hoping to qualify for the 70.3 World Championship event, held for the first time in November in Clearwater, Florida.

I accomplished two of my three goals. My eagerness to race is stronger than ever and my eagerness to train smartly has been reinforced. I qualified to the World Championships, as did my training partners, Paul Krochuk and Michael Simpson. I was unable, however, to test my run fitness, since my digestive system did not cooperate and I was forced to take a few breaks.

The trip itself was exceptional. I traveled and bunked with Paul at the Days Inn Oceanside, which was a five-minute walk to the race start at Oceanside Harbour Pier. We both loved drinking coffee, eating well and watching Will & Grace repeats. Nothing beats Karen’s (rich snobby co-star) humor to take the edge off an upcoming race. Brian, my coach, was very much a part of the race organization and was appointed the Run Race Director. He worked day and night, along with hundreds of others, setting up the course and attending to race details. This was a bonus and a burden. While he would constantly provide updates on race day changes or athlete gossip, he was far too busy to have much face time for race strategy discussion. Eighteen hours before the start of the race, we found a Starbucks to review the Plan.

The Plan was as follows:
Swim fast. Swim as fast as my arms and legs could churn and kick with one objective in mind—stay warm. The water temperature was all of 55 degrees Fahrenheit. It was so cold, in fact, that the organizers were offering age grouper athletes the option to swim only 700 meters instead of the full 2.0 kilometers. I had my best swim ever and exited with some of the top swimmers.

Bike conservatively. Break the ride down into four quarters with a different focus on each. Cadence, Muscle Recruitment, Effort, Race. My goal was to conserve some energy for the run. The ride was grueling so I consciously conserved energy. In hindsight, I feel I could have given this ride more than I did but my focus was the run, so I kept my eye on the ball.

Run to my potential. That meant running an effort I am trained to exert. It also meant staying mentally focused on keeping a fast, smooth foot cadence, hips forward and relaxed shoulders. It was all supposed to come down to my last 15 kilometers (the first five kilometers were dedicated to adjusting to the run and to setting the pace). Sadly, just as I was catching a few girls ahead, I had to make a detour to the seaside bushes of a residential road. Did these stops cost me in time and a compromised pace for fear of churning my insides? Likely. For this reason alone, I was sad not to have run to my potential. On the other hand, my competitive juices are fired up in great anticipation of the season ahead.

Brian and I had agreed ahead of time that the only way I could upset my race was to ride too hard in the bike leg. What we failed to discuss was gastric distress, an all-too-common occurrence in triathlon and the number one cause for DNFs. Fortunately, I know what caused this distress and in the future I will definitely avoid the foods I ate to bring these symptoms on. Better to know the answer than to wonder why it happened!

Having earned my spot at the World 70.3 Championships (see http://www.ironmanlive.com/ for more info) and with my racing season officially launched, my trip to California was a success. For those of you who raced in the UBC triathlon, I applaud you. If you plan to carry on racing this season or if you are kicking off your season in the next few weeks or months, I have a word of advice: avoid fiber for 48 hours leading up to a race and definitely avoid bran muffins the morning of a race!

Christine