Kawela Endurance Triathlon

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Elated at my finish, pouring water over my head.

Elated at my Kawela Endurance Triathlon finish, pouring water over my head.

Hit refresh; I made some edits.

Yesterday I completed Boca Hawaii’s inaugural Kawela Endurance Triathlon. This was my third 70.3 mile event, and my best time so far. Everybody gets a personal record, “PR,” the first time they do an event. That was all of us yesterday. Yay!

My Garmin results were better than the official results, but that’s OK with me. I finished in less than eight hours, which was my goal. My swim was fast for me, my bike ride was strong, and I left myself plenty of time to endure the heat during my run. In Hawaiian, Ka Wela means ” the heat,” a point founder Raul Torres wanted to emphasize in this event he plans on hosting each August. While the swim was cool in the early morning, and the bike was wet until we cleared Oahu’s east side, the run was spectacularly hot.

I must give a shout out to Raul and my coaches Alika Chee, Ryan Leong, Stefan Reinke, Tanya Florin, Felipe Rael and Chris Moore. The training of my body, mind and spirit came together yesterday and I feel positive about improving for future races. By no means am I a superstar when it comes to triathlons. Instead I am just a regular mom who wants to stay in shape, have fun, be healthy, and inspire her family and friends. And if I can do triathlons, what else could I do?

Third 70.3, best finish so far!

Third 70.3 triathlon, third place. My best finish so far at 07:44!

Yesterday, it was still dark when John dropped me off at Kailua Beach Park with my bike and swim gear. The plan was for him to meet me at 2 p.m. at Camp Erdman for my finish. John usually sticks around through my entire races, shooting lots of pictures and witnessing the victories of the top finishers, all the way until I get across the finish line. He is so dang positive when I get over that line, I don’t know what I’d do without him. I finish so far back in the pack that it’s easy to slip into despair.

Yesterday’s swim started in Kailua just as the sun rose over the horizon. The waves sparkled in the darkness, the stars gleamed between the dense clouds that moved with the brisk breeze. It rained while we set up our bikes at transition one (T1). Shades of Lanikai Triathlon. Seems to always rain just as we start our swim. I was very pleased with my swim. It was with the current, so I bet everybody’s results were fantastic. We got out half way and ran back to the start and got back in the water for one more lap. That way no one had to swim against the current. Smart.

Running to swim lap two as the sun rises in the east. Mahalo for the photo by Kim Burnett.

Running to swim lap two as the sun rises in the east. Mahalo for the photo by Kim Burnett.

By the time I got to T1 after my swim, the corral looked deserted, there were a few bikes left. I was calm. I didn’t have any jitters for this race at all. The day before I took The Great White to the back of Hawaii Kai and spent an hour getting in and out of my bicycle shoes that were attached to my pedals so I could mount and dismount quicker. Success! That was a big deal for me. I rode the last few miles on my bike with my feet cooling on top of my shoes. It was heaven. Credit Coach Alika Chee for my newfound skill.

The bike ride felt good, even though it was wet through the first 18 to 20 miles. But it was early enough that traffic was minimal so we could ride in the road and out of the puddles. Quite a few triathletes had to stop to fix punctures. Police throughout the race were on task and very cordial. I absolutely love it when each officer holds up their intersection for me to race through. Each time I sent up a shakka wave of mahalo and aloha to the drivers who patiently waited! Those officers were so great! I think every one of them cheered me through! Priceless.

The Great White needs a good cleanup.

The Great White needs a good cleanup.

It was a fine ride through the North Shore of Oahu, with just a couple of bottlenecks. At one point I got stuck in sand and did a big wobbly fishtail. Somehow I recovered. I swear this bike and I are an awesome team. I love my Cervelo P2!!! I ride with care and I have never had a puncture in a race. I know it’s more a matter of when and not if. It will happen. Sometimes I change out my tubes just so I remember how to do it under pressure!

When I got to Mokuleia, I was secretly bummed that so many participants were already running. The winners finished hours before me. But I am a triathlete who has to focus on completing and not competing. I came in third yesterday because one of my friends in my age group got too dehydrated to finish. I am sure she would have beaten me.

My T2 was long because I had to use the bathroom before I started my run. But, getting T2 and bathroom business done in less than nine minutes is nothing to be ashamed of, right? We ran from Camp Erdman to Kaena Point to Mokuleia Beach Park to Kaena Point to Mokuleia Beach Park to Kaena Point and finished at the camp. For the first lap I was trying to get my legs back. I didn’t feel horribly spent. I drank Coke and Mountain Dew, used my Power Gels, used their Power Gels, was fed an apple banana and pretzels by friends, and always had my hands full with ice and ice water. My coaches Ryan and Felipe kept me in ice cubes the whole way, and I poured a lot of it on me and in me! I was waterlogged by the final third of my run, which is a far better condition than being dehydrated.

When I turned onto the dirt road and made my way to the finish the first person I saw was John and it was the best thing ever!!! He ran ahead of me to shoot a few pix of my finish. I was so happy to be finishing that I cheered and poured more ice water onto myself and crossed with such joy at 07:44:31. I’ll take it! There were times yesterday during the run when I wanted a shortcut. But in my heart I knew I had to complete the whole race. Following my Ironman 2013 and 2014 finishes of 8:12 and 8:23, I am pleased with this result. I’m improving.

Race with Passion is the motto of Boca Hawaii. While it is a simple and sweeping statement, it also emphasizes how each one of us has personal dreams and goals. If you don’t have passion, then what do you have? I have really come to love the Boca Hawaii ohana.

 

Share the Road with Us!

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Big shoulders on the Big Island made doing the Ironman 70.3 a relaxing ride. Headed north to Hawi from the Mauna Lani turnaround, 50 miles to go.

Big shoulders on the Big Island made doing the Ironman 70.3 a relaxing ride. Wish we had bigger shoulders on Oahu’s roads! 

Yesterday during our Boca Hawaii Summer Triathlon Training workout three of my teammates were in accidents with motor vehicles while we were riding our bicycles. No one was fatally injured, all are on the mend, and to the best of my knowledge, each was a victim of hit-and-run rudeness. It is illegal and morally wrong to leave the scene of an accident or to not assist people who are hurt.

In 2012 Hawaii Governor Neil Abercrombie signed the Vulnerable Users Law, designed to protect bicyclists, pedestrians and people who work on crews such as those who groom road landscaping, etc. It isn’t a snare net to capture and punish drivers. It’s to make drivers aware that they have to look out for everyone who isn’t in a steel capsule hurtling down the highway.

I live in East Oahu, and that’s where these accidents involving my teammates occurred yesterday. This part of the Island is chock full of Type-A captains of industry and their high-maintenance Rogue- or Cayenne- or Lexus SUV-driving wives in their yoga pants, phones illegally at their ears, kids set to ignore in the backseat. One woman in her Mercedes coupe got very close and then told me to get out of the way because she was in a hurry to get to her tennis match at Koko Head District Park. I was completely unaware of her importance.

The point is, people out here need a refresher course on sharing the road with bicyclists. We get the lane. We get the whole ENTIRE lane. Do we take the entire lane? Not unless the shoulder is junk. Most of us ride on the shoulder and we’re OK with that. Sometimes I see riders doubled up to shoot the breeze while we are out there on Kalanianaole Highway and I am not OK with that. I have a little mirror clipped to my sunglasses so I can see what’s coming up from behind me, so I can see that a city bus is about to pull up to the bus stop, or a car or delivery truck wants to turn right. The mirror is very helpful to me, but not everyone uses them or needs to.

East Oahu gets its share of tourist drivers, and I suspect it was a tourist who caused my two women teammates to crash by Hanauma Bay yesterday. I do not know how this person is enjoying their Hawaii vacation. One woman has a dislocated shoulder and the other one has a broken collar bone. Needless to say their bicycles are totalled.

Those of us who ride road bikes and triathlon bicycles have a healthy respect for the road and for the vehicles with which we share it. Most of us obey the laws to the letter. Some of us will roll through a red light if there is nothing going on. Most of us will help each other out if we’re on the side of the road changing out a punctured tube.

I make a point of making eye contact with drivers while riding. I always say thank you with a big smile and an Island-style shakka wave to convey my gratitude to those of you who are getting a chance to pass me because finally I have a shoulder to ride on. Believe me, if it were up to me all of our roads would have broad, clean shoulders for those of us who ride bike or who like to run along the highways.

I have a theory: Bicyclists make excellent drivers because we have the perspective of being both the vulnerable and the infallible user. We ride in the heat, the rain and the wind. These elements add to the challenge of navigating along the shoulder and sometimes in the path of traffic. We know we’re not as fast as you in your big truck or little sports car or your tourist bus or your delivery truck or mom mobile. But do you know that as a driver on Oahu’s roads, you must protect the rest of us who are considered by law vulnerable users? Awareness. We just ask that you have AWARENESS.

 

Thoughts Become Reality

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One of my dear friends from childhood named Sue, someone with whom I can spend a total of 15 minutes with every five years and still have a perpetual connection with (thanks to Facebook and perhaps thanks to our spirits), often gives her friends daily spiritual vitamins upon which to reflect. Today it was something from Marianne Williamson:

On Meeting Limits with Unlimited Thought
Our power lies in meeting limited circumstances with unlimited thought. It is not what happens to us, but what we choose to think about what happens to us, that determines what will happen next.
If our circumstances tempt us to think thoughts such as, “I’m such a loser,” “I will never have another chance,” “It will take forever for this situation to right itself,” or “I hate whoever is to blame for this,” then miracles, though they are programmed into the nature of the universe, cannot make their way into our awareness. They’re in the computer, but we’re not choosing to download them. With every thought we think, we either summon or block a miracle.
It is not our circumstances, then, but rather our thoughts about our circumstances, that determine our power to transform them. We choose in life whether to live in victimization or in victory. We have power either way – power to use against ourselves, or power to use to free ourselves. The point is that we always have the choice, and it’s not always as simple as it appears.
– Marianne Williamson

This hits on several areas in my life. First of all, I think it is a miracle that I have such a great husband and these two lovely daughters who care and love me so much. I do not love myself as much as they do. I should. I need to work on that constantly.

Secondly, while it is such a gift to be a freelance writer and to write articles in my shady and private backyard office, it gets a little tough when the checks take a long time to come in. It’s not that stable. That’s why I am a substitute teacher (believe me, having the summer off with my family has been GREAT! School starts Friday. Yay!). So I’m happy to be writing, it helps me stay relevant as a journalist, and it keeps me in touch with my community and people who are important. But honestly, I feel like I need a miracle every month to stay solvent, which is why I still send out my resume. There must be a few hundred versions of it out there right now.

Finally, being a triathlete is crazy. As a kid I loved to swim, bike and run around. I didn’t have my children until I was past 40, so I could do all kinds of things for a long time before they were born. But after they were born, I got sluggish and fat and that also makes your self esteem and soul turn to mush. At 50 I started to do triathlons. Do I train to win? Of course I do! Do I win? No. Not unless everyone else is out of town doing full-blown Ironmans or other endurance events. I try really hard to do my best. During my last half Ironman, which was Honu in Kona a few months ago, I struggled during my ride and my run. The self talk was all about “never again.” Thank goodness I had friends along the course who interrupted me with their cheers and support. I would have happily fallen into a lava tube to die. When I finished just minutes before the clock wound down, it felt like a miracle. And it was, woven by the voices of friends, the unbearable heat that I wanted to get away from, the desire to be done with it.

Reprogramming myself to understand that my thoughts control the gate through which miracles arrive is difficult, but it makes sense. If I want to attract something wonderful and fulfilling or even a conversation with someone I want to spend time with, I have to appear ready, I have to be available, and I have to be receptive.

Thinking positively. Peace.

Another Blog: Eat At Mom’s dot Net

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This is what you get when you Eat At Mom's!

This is what you get when you Eat At Mom’s!

It’s not like I have tons of time, but I figured over the summer I’d launch a cooking blog. It’s still under construction. Pretty soon I’ll be posting my food creations on the website Eat At Mom’s.

So I’m toggling back and forth between this site and that site and I’m trying to save myself from making the same mistakes I made a few years when I launched lavagal.net. I also want to launch the site with a recipe sorter embedded, to enable easy searches by ingredient or subject. It’s not easy, but it’s WordPress, so it’s not impossible.

Casting doubts on my ambitions to launch this site within the next few days are all of these website designers and companies that come crawling out of the woodwork offering me their services and guarantees about SEO and positive Internet cash flow. I realize they just want to make a few bucks, but the joy of WordPress and launching a website is that point of pride where it’s a labor of love and doesn’t look like it’s squirted out of the same cookie press.

No thanks!

The eventual plan is to migrate recipes here on lavagal.net to eatatmoms.net, publish new recipes, help others figure out ways to use new ingredients, and share our reflections about wonderful meals we had while eating out, at a potluck or a family celebration, and trying to recreate those taste sensations that bring back happy memories — even those from small-kid time.

Are you with me? I hope you’ll subscribe.

Hawaii’s first sexting case.


lavagal:

My blog has been getting a few hits lately, including this entry. It may be a few years since I’ve written it, but I feel it is spot on. Protect children. Please.

Originally posted on Lavagal:

@postaday 211; #postaday2011.

A little news hit very close to home yesterday when we found out about Hawaii’s first sexting case. The allegedly guilty party lives in my ‘hood, was an educational aid at Kid1’s school, and is someone I might mutually follow on Twitter. I say might, because there is a person on Twitter with the same name and other Twitter peeps indicate it is the same person.

Men and women. Men and children. Women and children. Men and men. Women and women. Children and children. When the world is right, these can all be healthy relationships and friendships. Unfortunately, the world is not right.

Child pornography is a disease that is willingly spread among adults the world over. If you’ve ever seen it and were not horrified by it, then I don’t think you understand my point. I think it is a horrific theft of a childhood that…

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And From Death We Get Alone Time

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It’s been a week since Aunt Mary Lou died. It was early in the morning, in her home, as though she fell asleep for the last time.

When I heard the news, I hustled to book a flight, a rental car and a hotel room. I was airborne Thursday afternoon and touched down in Philly by 1130 Friday morning. I visited my sister at her salon and then joined my mother and Uncle Ralph, a new widower, for dinner Friday evening. Saturday was the viewing, funeral mass, burial and celebration at Taylor’s Sports Restaurant and Bar on the Black Horse Pike.

Aunt Mary Lou has 10 grandchildren, all in their 20s and 30s. They took the long center table at Taylor’s. I know these kids. Three of them lost their mother, our eldest cousin Maureen, in a motorcycle accident. We are incomplete because Maureen is gone, but you have to make do. Her three children have become adults without her guidance. It cannot be easy. And no matter how hard a man tries, it’s pretty tough to be both parents. My heart is heavy for them.

At the viewing I got to see my cousins for the first time in a couple of years. They stood in a reception line as Aunt Mary Lou’s friends and family came through to pay their respects. I observed my cousins as they spoke with people who came to them, sharing their memories and sharing tears. Every time someone came through, the reception line would be brought to tears again. It had to be exhausting, I hope it was cathartic. In an open casket was Aunt Mary Lou. She wore a scarf and her hands clutched a rosary of red crystals. She was my Godmother.

Because I have been away for so long, I have grown apart from my family. This trip to New Jersey really showed me how much I have changed. The most significant change is my lack of a lead foot when behind the wheel. Thank goodness I’m in a rental car with Florida plates because I’m pretty certain I frustrate the heck out of every driver on these roads. I would be driving along on a back-country road (Yes, South Jersey is loaded with them) at 35mph and see a sign that says the speed limit is 50 (as indicated by the headlights behind me).

As a family member, I’m an outsider. I am not here enough to know all the goings on, who is doing what, what children and grandchildren are up to, who needs a prescription, who needs new eyeglasses, who is vegan, who is vegetarian, who’s staying married, who’s getting divorced, who’s struggling with what.

Every time I show up is a good time, even now. When I visit, and this has always been the case for the 36 years I have not lived in New Jersey, we all get together and have fun. Barbecues, parties, out to dinner, to the beach, all kinds of excursions.

Life goes on when someone we love dies. While we have to drop everything to take care of the details of death, we (and I mean my cousins mostly) must resume as soon as possible the matters of life. This time there weren’t any get togethers after Saturday and Sunday. I would imagine everyone has to go back to work, catch up with laundry, and live life.

So I am alone in my hotel room. I have paid my respects, I have offered my support, I have arrived to give Aunt Mary Lou my farewell in person. My cousins were so appreciative of my being here because I had come so far. Each of them is worth the trip. It was what I needed to do.

Tonight friends met with me at Ott’s Tavern in Delran. I spread myself too thin. I didn’t get to talk to any one person enough. It was enough and it wasn’t enough. When we are kids we have no idea how valuable time is. Now that we are older, we should. It is nearly priceless.

This is my contemplation. Time is swift. I will soon be checking out of my hotel room, driving myself to the airport, and getting myself from here to Hawaii, traveling solo through Philadelphia, Houston, LAX and HNL, where my husband will take me home where I belong.

They say they miss me. It is a wonderful thing to know.

 

 

2014 Honu Ironman 70.3: Racing Against My Own Demons

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Finisher. For the record: 08:23:56, 12 minutes slower than last year.

Finisher. Official medal and Cookies by Design edible medal from Bonnie Leong. For the record: 08:23:56, 12 minutes slower than last year. Swim, bike and transitions were minutes slower. But my run, despite my walking quite a bit, was faster. Amazing.

No matter how well you train, if your body doesn’t respond, react or deliver as expected on race day there really isn’t much you can do about it.

It was perplexing for me. Throughout the race my body was not responding to my directions. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong, except that I worked so much the weeks before and didn’t get in enough rest. And believe it or not, it is possible for ME (YES ME) to not eat enough before and during a race.

I had the best training! I was part of a great (and large) group for Endurance Triathlon Training with Boca Hawaii. The fast kids were gracious, the well-established kids were welcoming, and the coaches were supportive. It was so incredible, that I signed up for Summer Triathlon Training, which begins Saturday, June 6, in preparation for the inaugural Boca Hawaii Kawela Triathlon later this summer. After my Honu results, and after a sort of decent night’s sleep (despite the high-maintenance cat), I’m feeling it.

I’m feeling that triathlon thing again and it’s all good.

Pros in white caps, men in blue caps, women in pink caps. Officials. Spectators. Photographers. Kids. It's crazy. We're all nuts.

Pros in white caps, men in blue caps, women in pink caps. Officials. Spectators. Photographers. Kids. It’s crazy. We’re all nuts.

Here’s my blow by blow.

When we arrived on Friday morning in Kailua-Kona and were driving north in our rental car to the Fairmont Orchid hotel, I was giddy. I was loving the hot, fresh-out-of-the-oven baked brownies look of the lava fields, I was admiring the beautiful deep blue ocean, I loved the dark and ominous clouds that clung to the volcano summits.

“I have to find a way to live here,” I said to my husband. “I feel like this is where I belong.”

We would need a few million dollars, that’s all.

We didn’t have much time to shop for a new home or to make a land purchase, so we went straight to the Fairmont so I could check in to the Ironman 70.3 event. I needed to get my race packet, sign several releases, get my race chip, pack and leave my run bag, check into the hotel, attend a mandatory race briefing, pick up my bike, sweet talk the TriBike Transport guys to put the new tires on my wheels so I’d have fresh rubber on the road the next day, and get dressed to ride my bike to Hapuna Beach Park to set it up at the bike start. After that we went to Foodland up the street to pick up some sandwiches and bottles of water. I slept well until 3:30 a.m. and had coffee and breakfast with John. We met our friends Rick and Lori in the elevator and they graciously gave us a ride to the start, so we didn’t have to take the shuttle bus. That was so great!

First swimmer on the beach. So eager! So ready! No idea how the day would go, but that's really how it is for anyone.

First swimmer on the beach. So eager! So ready! No idea how the day would go, but that’s really how it is for anyone.

I was the first athlete down the chute and to the beach. I heard the little beep as it read my race chip when I walked under the giant inflatable that hovered over the checkpoint for transition one from swim to bike. I was in my new Aquasphere skinsuit, I was at the most beautiful beach in th world, and I was eager to achieve a personal record on my second Ironman 70.3. My day didn’t go as planned. Before the horn blew at 7 a.m. for the women to start swimming, the wind picked up and the sun was hot on our backs. The weather had announced itself: hot and windy.

Honu 2014 women's start.

Honu 2014 women’s start.

I hovered in the back of the pack at the start of the swim, and I felt good as I worked my way up and through the other women. Before I got to the first buoy, I was already passing some of the men who launched seven minutes before us. In fact, I passed quite a few by the time I got to the finish. I felt like my swim was going well, I didn’t lose sight of the yellow buoys that I needed to swim around. I spotted underwater photographers taking our pictures from the sandy floor. I thought how so cool those photos would be.

Swim to bike transition. See how happy everyone is around me? I just realized my time was slower than last year.

Swim to bike transition. See how happy everyone is around me? I just realized my time was slower than last year.

I got out of the water and saw that my time was seven minutes longer than last year’s. I was so defeated. The evil self talk began and stayed with me most of the day. After all this training, how could I be so slow?

My transition from swim to bike was about two minutes longer, but I was changing out of a skinsuit, putting on sunguard sleeves and getting into a bicycle jersey while soaking wet. My coaches told us to slow down and be deliberate during transition because haste makes waste. So I didn’t worry.

Headed north to Hawi from the Mauna Lani turnaround, 50 miles to go.

Headed north to Hawi from the Mauna Lani turnaround, 50 miles to go.

The bike is my thing, most of the time. But it would not be the case during Honu. Last year I finished the bike segment in 03:38. This year it took me 03:57, 19 minutes longer, on a spiffier and lighter new Cervelo P2 bike, too. I have a very difficult time eating on the bike. I can’t stand it. I also don’t like to drink, but I force myself to use my aerobottle. By the time I got to Hawi, I thought to myself how I was so DONE with this race. It took me nearly two hours to get up there. How in the world would I beat last year’s time of 03:38? I was defeated. I used the bathroom, drank two Power Gel lime drinks and ate a Bonk Breaker bar. It was wonderful. I felt better and I got back on the bike feeling refreshed. I bet I spent 12 minutes up there, but I needed it. I couldn’t believe that it was taking me so long to get up to Hawi. I was worried it would take me another two hours to get back, and it just about did.

Honu 2014 finishing the bike and telling John how I'm worried I won't finish in time.

Honu 2014 finishing the bike and telling John how I’m worried I won’t finish in time.

I saw my husband John as I was rolling back toward bike-to-run transition and I said, “At this rate, I don’t see how I’ll finish on time.” He smiled, encouraged me, and clicked off a few pictures. Later he told me that he felt I might be right.

I worked on the self talk. And fortunately, I had lots of teammates and friends on the course whose encouraging words put some steam in my steps. I am one of those people who needs the attagirls. You can look at my Garmin stats and see the points of encouragement. My pace picks up, my heart rate bumps up a little bit, and I get a little more positive. If it weren’t for my friends Janet, Kristin, Miriam, KC, Marcy, Karen, Lisa and Eric, I might have finished well outside the cutoff. Especially Janet and Miriam. Such compassion!

At the start of my run I realized I had a water bottle in my back pocket so I tossed it aside as I went by John. I also had a tire tube but I didn't realize it until miles later.

This year’s run was 03:23:59 compared to last year’s run of 03:32. I am amazed I was faster this year because I was truly struggling. But I was determined to finish in time and I had to get my act together. The running training paid off. I still have a lot of room for improvement.

Last year’s run was 03:32. I don’t think I did any walking except for at the aid stations and only until I was finished eating or drinking. I cannot eat, drink, and walk or run at the same time. Such a dork. I’d throw up. This year I did a lot of walking. The Honu run course weaves in and out of the hotel grounds, the hotel’s golf course, through lava fields, behind the shopping center, and back onto the golf course lined with beautiful homes where we run along the fairways. Yesterday it was so steamy hot that I dreaded walking on the grassy parts of the route. It seemed to radiate with so much heat. Finally the course dumps you on to what many of us refer to as Death March Road, which is hotter than heck possibly because it is through more lava. It isn’t smoldering, it is just black and very, very, hot. It was on this road, from miles nine through 11, that I saw a herd of wild goats. Now my friends think I was hallucinating. I wasn’t. They were there!

I ran the first three miles of the 13.1-mile course, then I started walking. First I saw Janet who checked on me from across the road. She was way ahead of me. Then my teammate Marian came up from behind me and cheered me on. We ran together a little bit and then I said to her, “You know, I might have to start walking again, so don’t worry about me.” She started walking at that point but I was still running. We had a good laugh about it. Eventually she passed me and finished before me.

I will be the first to tell anyone that running is hard for me. I cannot stand to run. But running has helped me dropped a little bit of weight, so I’m starting to see the value in doing it more often.

When I emerged from Death March Road, two course marshals told me I had 28 minutes to cover 1.5 miles. Even if I walked, I could finish on time. But I was in pretty bad shape. I was really sad. I thought I spent all this time and money training for my A Race and I was going to miss finishing it on time by minutes. My dream of coming in under eight hours was shot to hell.

Once again I wrestled with my demons. I started to run the best I could. It was more of a crappy jog, but it was faster than walking. I reached the last stretch of golf course and I saw two nene geese in the shade to my left. I love nature. I swear, I look around a lot when I do my triathlons. Maybe I should do less sightseeing?

First there was Lori and Rick and the TryFitness group to holler their support at me as I struggled to beat the clock. John ran alongside me for a little bit — barefoot in the hot grass — and told me that I had it, that I was going to make it, that I would finish on time and get that medal.

I turned the corner, made my final approach and finished the 2014 Honu Ironman 70.3  in 08:23:56, compared to last year’s 08:12: 25.

I wasn’t that upset because I finished before 08:30 the cutoff. And when I got through the finisher’s shoot, my Boca Hawaii coaches and teammates were cheering for me, which was the nicest thing ever — considering most of them had probably finished hours before me. What’s nicer than a group of friends lubed by beer and burgers anyway?

Triathlon is a mental game. Where the winners compete with each other, people like me compete with ourselves. But we don’t just compete against last year’s time or our personal records. We have to beat down the voices that diminish our effort. We have to tell our legs to shut up when they throb and feel too heavy to move. We have to protect ourselves from the flailing arms and legs in the swim and then, when we emerge from the ocean, beat the vertigo, get up on our feet without wobbling, and heave all the way up the sand to transition.

Each race is a transition in our lives. Finishing is an accomplishment that affirms we’ve got within ourselves something more powerful than we know. Part of my future training will have to include mental pushups that will keep me from slipping into the abyss of self loathing.

And (are you still here? still reading?) I also know that I have to not eat so much after a workout. That’s something else I can take care of right now.

I have some wonderful coaches in Boca Hawaii owner Raul Torres, and Ryan Leong, Filipe Rael, Stefan Reinke, Alika Chee, Ray Brust, Lee-Ann Watanabe and Todd Iacovelli. While I continue to improve physically, I want to also work on my mental fitness so that I can push the crap out of my mind faster and get on with my race.