Gratituesday, Take 2.

This particular Tuesday I am grateful for:

• Being laid off. Because 5 pounds lost from utter stress is 5 pounds less to drag up Hawi & through the Energy Lab.

• The guy with the big-ass dogs who bought my minivan. Because eventually it will stop raining and I will figure out bike-commuting on a bike that thinks it's too good to be locked up anywhere.

• Out on the Weekend by Neil Young.

• Wyatt's wisdom. He may only be six and run around on his tippytoes like tinkerbell and not believe in underwear, but he told me he will hire me at his snack shack and pay me $500/day. And when I said that my shin hurt when I touched it, he wisely told me to stop touching it.

• People Magazine, for telling me that Clay Aiken is gay. Ya think?
  

• Five easy miles run in the rain in the middle of the afternoon.
  

These are Wyatt's first steps at nine months old. The kid was smart from day one:

A thousand words.

Apparently there were school pictures some time in the last month. They showed up Friday. Times have changed in the month or so I've been working full time. In years past, my boys wore blue aloha shirts and my girl wore a cheongsam. Here's what we got this year:

Shaggy hair, t-shirts, and god only knows if their teeth were brushed. Henry's wearing one of my old Berkeley hippie beads, a look that neither of us need photographic evidence of. Wyatt's photo appears to be straight out of 1978. And where's Sky? Apparently Mom of the Year only sent two checks to school. So there is no picture of Sky in her favorite Hannah Montana t-shirt, the one with a built-in rhinestone necklace that I always mistake for rhinestone handcuffs. Too bad, because now that it's too small, its extra-classy.

In addition to the important business of taking pictures of my scarred body parts and trying to decide what they look like, I fit the last long brick in this weekend. And it wasn't that long. There was a little bit of Holy Crap, I'm supposed to run 2 more hours at that pace in 2 weeks? But it wouldn't be a proper taper without a little I didn't train enough!! freak out, would it? It is time to start recovering, relaxing, and thinking about the race in 12 days. Part of me thinks phew! I just barely got healthy in time. And the other part of me knows that this will be the shortest build I have ever gone into an Ironman with.

Seven weeks ago I was still too injured to call it training. It was rehabbing. I ran 4 miles that week. Then for six weeks, I played catch up. Now for two weeks I will sit on my butt hoping that the body remembers something from Kona last year and Arizona this spring. Either that, or here's hoping that Triathlete Mag is much more powerful than we all thought. Like Nostradamus-powerful. Because they say I consistently run under 3:20, and I've only done that once. I need at least two sub-3:20s to call it consistent, right? All I can do is done. now all that's left is readying the mind.

That synchronized waving problem again, popping up on this year's longest run out in the Energy Lab.

Taper + unemployment = bad combination.

Come on, you have to admit it. The scar on the lower part of my hip IS the Big Island.

And yes, I do have a lot of free time on my hands.

Teetering.

First off, I have to touch on something I just don't understand: why do my toes insist on regrowing toenails? Evolve for chrissake, little digits! Evolve! I am not a fan of home surgery. But sometimes it is a must. The 57 mile run week took out two toenails on the larger foot. I guess that's two less to lose on October 11.

I am sitting here in pinstriped BCBG slacks, four inch Taryn Rose pumps (with studs! They have studs, I'm not 100% librarian yet, people!) and a black Diane Von Fostersomething blouse. Interview attire. Grown-up clothes are not that fun. Nothing I'm sporting is stretchy. Taryn Rose was a podiatrist, my eye. Taryn Rose was some kind of pain-producing dominatrix before getting into shoes. Today I am 6'3" of teetering headhunter-bound blondeness.

There is entirely too much kindness around this blog. Don't you people know that being nice to me just makes me cry? Where are my HTFU, Ross! comments?

A writing career as suggested sounds lovely. You blogland friends are too kind. One of my best friends, Katherine of blog-infamy from all the times she's dropped me and all the times I've posted our double-mint twin photos (seriously, must we always wave in unison?) is a full time writer for the local paper and various magazines. It is not an easy field to break into. And it is not a field that will support the five humans I must feed and shelter at entry-level, unfortunately. It is something I will continue to work to build a base for in the long run, when that husband of mine finishes law school and gets out there in the world. Check out Honolulu Magazine's Outdoor Adventures byline.. Drag Your Kids Outside might sound familiar. In the mean time, I am applying to anything and everything.

I have some happy news to report. At Ala Moana on Monday evening with Katherine, the swim came back. Our open water 500s on 8:00 actually had more than half a minute of rest instead of gasp, gasp, go! And at the end of Tuesday evening's weekly dose of chlorine, I completed a long pull set to find a group of four standing at the end of my lane. A coach and his pupils. I squinted up at them and asked if he was using me to show them how not to swim. Apparently it's cold in hell right now.. because he was using me as an example of a "perfect, long and powerful stroke with great rotation and reach." I hadn't laughed so hard I snorted in a long time.. I told him I learned it watching Ian Thorpe on youtube.

Dispensable.

On Friday my boss called to tell me he had no choice but to shut down our little Honolulu office. San Diego lives on, but I am a Hawaii girl and need to stay put. So now that it's my turn to support the family for the first time ever, I go and get laid off... for the first time ever. It's time to get job shopping, which may well be the only kind of shopping that I am not good at.

Hillary says they must have discovered my week-old facebook habit. But that can't be it, as I only hit the hard stuff at night. It's unfortunate I cannot get paid to write on walls or fling food.

I told my parents the bad news via email. My dad's one-sentence reply: One door closes, another door opens. He's not even the family yogi, it's my mom who wears t-shirts with got yoga? printed upside down on them. I replied: Paint the fence, Miyagi-san. Haven't heard from zen-dad since.

Ramsey cheered me up when I came home puffy-eyed, snotty & feeling completely expendable. The first thing he asked when I walked in was Will you look at Sky's kindergarten homework and tell me if I did it right? There was a long pause before we both cracked up at the absurdity of the question. I checked, he did it right.

The thing is, I'm not sure I want to be an environmental scientist anymore. I really like the people I work with and will miss them, but it might be time for something different. My favorite part about my job is the editing and any writing I can get my hands on. I want a writer's job. Me and every other blogger. Or maybe I would do well in sales. I think clients would fear the motor mouth assault. I could verbal diarrhea them into buying my wares.

My mom replied with her own one-liner: Have you considered the oldest profession in the world? Unfortunately, I don't think that gig offers health benefits. In fact, it may offer anti-health benefits. But thanks, Ma.

In the bank.

Legs. Whatever. The miles are in. I went well over 50 miles running this week, because sometimes I get lost on long runs and they run a little too long. The 21 miler was pukey for some reason, but I was able to keep moving. The long brick was rainy and the roads were flooded and scary. But zones were hit, paces were there, and my brain was happy just to be feeling healthy and getting the hours in. When I finish a 15 hour week I look back and wonder how the age groupers I read about are fitting in 20 and 25. The body might take it, but there really aren't enough hours in the day. Fifteen is a perfect big week for my life.

I broke the law this morning and ran the Niketown 5k. As in the coach is going to kick my ass when I log it. Here are my excuses in case he's reading: It was a fundraiser for my kids' school, and I figured with 10,000 racers and great prizes, I could just tempo run it and head home under the radar. And 5ks are really really short. As I headed for Waikiki at dawn, I realized that I've been up before 5 every day for two weeks. I love the early morning. For the first time in my life, I didn't go out sub-6. Huge milestone, as I usually run the first mile of a 5k in 5:30 and then have a panic attack. The first mile was a comfortable 6:20 in zone 3, and I was out in front a little ways. I picked it up a tiny bit and went 6:10 for the second mile, still zone 3, still enjoying myself, now running back into the hoards of walking humans on Kalakaua. Last mile I realized that this time might be visible in the results. As in, the winning time should really not be over 19 minutes or everyone reading will realize that said winner only won because of poor attendance. So I picked it up into zone 4 and ran a 6 flat across the line. My time was what I expected the day after a bonky 21 miler - 19 min. Nowhere near a PR - hell, I was faster at the tri last weekend, but hey, it was fun. And I get to buy lots of nike crap next week - $300 worth of free run shorts!

There is bigger news here than my dumb training. Huge news - it opened:

Hawaii officially has a good grocery store. In Berkeley I could look out my kitchen window and see the red Trader Joe's sign. Since moving home to Hawaii, there have been carry-on bags stuffed with TJ's and Whole Foods grub with every mainland trip. This is going to make staying off the sauce (choc) easier. Curry from the hot food bar is a good recovery breakfast, right?

You know girls, they just wanna..

I gave up on Nationals today. The odds were stacked against me. I had the means to get there, but the coach thought it was a dumb move. My husband, who loves it when I travel, would have been rather unhappy with my three day vacation. And my reasons for wanting to go were purely selfish. I want to see my Timex teammates & all the tri people I enjoy so much. I want to defend last year's age group win. It's likely I'm not fit enough, but better to try than to not show. I want three days in a real city. I love Portland and I love my friend Val. I just want to have a little fun.. and Nationals at Hagg Lake is the perfect place for it.

Perhaps too much fun was had there last year. I fell off the podium. After trying to balance my award on my head. It was not entirely inappropriate, considering they gave me a beer stein.

I think there is a loss of momentum that occurs when out of the racing habit. This six months since my last big event may have skewed my perspective some. While I do feel that the time is likely right to back out of the Ironman training while the rest of my life is so busy, I reserve the right to change that opinion around 5pm on Oct. 11. It's a bit of a bug, this Ironman thing. All of triathlon, really.

I have a 6.5 hour brick, two long ocean swims and a 20 mile run with a 5k race thrown into it lying in wait for me here on Oahu this weekend. All fun things in their own way, with good friends in a beautiful place, so time to pay attention to the good stuff that's here, now. It's the last big weekend.

The back burner plan.

Perhaps I've taken casual too far. Carly, my 9 am soy-latte barista, said to me today as we complained about our schedules: Yeah, but at least you get to wear your pajamas to work.

I don't wear my pajamas to work! Quickly I looked down. Lucky sweats, white tank, cashmere hoodie (cold AC) and men's leather slippers. The tank and sweater are J. Crew - isn't that businessy just by definition? OK, so I slept in the shirt, I admitted. I didn't tell her I found the pants in the garage. Not in the laundry heap, just near the laundry heap. I leave at 5 am - it's like dressing by braille.

As soon as the very last nasty scab heals, the one at my knee that gets a little mouth every time I train, I will get brave and return to my jeans. My fancy work ones. Or maybe, just maybe, it might be time for some grown up clothes.

The fourth week out from Kona, a week that should have been peak volume, I fit in 9 hours and 10 minutes of training. For the week. I thought about saying life gets in the way now. But that's untrue. Triathlon just got pushed aside by life, the more important thing. If Ramsey has to study, then I'm not getting the evening workout in. A babysitter is no longer an option for financial reasons. If I sleep through the alarm.. oops, rest day! I still have to work all day.

This week the goal is to hit the 14 hours I see on training peaks. Because is it a taper if you go from nothing to a little more nothing? I can swim again, it's no longer so painful that I cry. It's ugly, I have pink baboon-butt skin down half of me, and I'm swimming like J. Lo in Mailbu, but it's a re-start - five days in a row so far: 30 min, 8 min 54 sec, 30 min, 45 min, hour. Again, don't be intimidated by the insane volume of my IM journey.

After Oct 11, the law school years might be the marathon years. I love marathon training and I have a little bone to pick with my PR: 3:04 does not sound nearly as cool at 2:59:59. Take out the bike and swim, and life gets manageable. So why continue the things I don't love when they no longer add to my life, only take away? The way I see it, running is innate. When cavemen got chased out of their teepees by T. Rex, did they hop on a bike and pedal for their lives? Swim for it? Nope. This stuff is just not natural. I am running 48 miles this week, including 12 miles full of 1k repeats that I did at 5 this morning.. and I love it. Bring on 50 or 60.. after this IM stuff is over.

Three word gear review.

A little while ago, Kloner posted a list of her favorite things and told me I had to do the same. I am late, but obedient. Well, almost obedient. I am changing the rules a little. These are some of my favorite and least favorite tri-things. After spending six weeks training for an Ironman one becomes very opinionated.

Nuun: Replaced diet coke.

Pit Stop: futile foamy mess.

Shuffle number four: 366 day lifespan.

Splish: swimming made cuter.

Chocolate gel: almost brownie batter. Desoto Micro Shorts: barely legal comfort.

That last one is for those of you that keep asking if I steal my daughter's/cut off my bike shorts. Thank you so much for assuming the sluttiest of me. Really, those are DeSotos. I love the little tiny micro tri short. Emilio sent me a pair for Kona last year and they're the comfy-est shorts ever.

Too early for Kona weather predictions?

The vog is here. They call it Kona Winds when it gets like this: 89 degrees, no trades, so hazy that I can't see Kaala from Waikiki.. perfect weather for Kona acclimation. I was supposed to wait as long as I could after the race before running Sunday afternoon, but I decided to get out when it was hot. It was a seriously sweaty long run and even wearing an entire tube of sunscreen I got burned. But the pace made me smile, even with the little sprint in my legs. I am grateful for every painless step run.

For those of you who are Kona-bound and envious of my vog-training, I recommend chain-smoking camel lights throughout your taper to prepare your lungs. Think Patty and Selma.

The second lap of Na Wahine is crazy.. lots of making sure the girls know you're on their left, dodging Kilauea potholes and yelling hello to friends. I look like I'm having fun, but don't be fooled. Really I'm panting like Philip Morris in the voggy air. I'm about to fall off the front of my seat, struggling for power anywhere I can find it. Thanks boomertri for the photo. 808racereport took some out there as well, if anyone who raced yesterday is looking for a photo, both photographers were kind enough to put up free downloads.

I recovered with a fun ocean swim with Courtenay this morning. OK, there may have been more gabbing than swimming, but there are only so many ways to make swimming fun.. all we were missing was a wall to lean on.

After a five month hiatus.. I raced one.

Sky to Kainoa: Your mom kicks my mom's ass. Here, have her lei.

Pre-race: all ready to roll, fancy transition bag and all:

Kisses good-bye from the little girl before hopping on my bike to ride to transition. Skirt, sneakers, shopping bag, aero helmet.. check.

We are SO not dorky in our twin splishes..
The boys keep busy during the race.

The joy of post-race brunch. Or Henry eats an entire pig:

Short version: I kind of sucked on the swim, I really sucked on the bike, and I ran pretty well, all things considered.

A more detailed report: My splish twin shot off the front at the start and Marion tried to get on her feet. Jana, Marion and I were the chase pack, and I'm hoping since there are no trans times my 8:54 included the run to the park. I was third out of T1 and could see Marion for most of the first lap. But she was shrinking. And my legs were achy and heavy.. maybe from Friday's long ride, or maybe just because going from zero to IM in six weeks hasn't been easy on the legs. Either way, I rode 32 min, nearly a minute slower than last year, and going up and over diamond head over and over wasn't all that fun for me. My powertap is still broken - in Kona it said I averaged 614 watts for 112 miles. Watch out, Lieto! Today it said I averaged 312 watts, after being recalibrated. Not bloody likely. I was told I was two minutes down on Bree, and 30s down on Marion into T2. Onto the run.. I had the turnover, but still felt like there was no power to my stride. I was hoping to run Marion down, but no dice. The one good thing to take away from this race is the 18:50 5k off the bike, 6:05 pace. Last year was 20 seconds faster.. but that was after a full year of running. The run is coming back, at least.

As I headed for the chute I saw the clock.. 59:50, 59:51.. oh crap! I just made it in 59:59, 3rd place.

Lessons learned:
You lose swim speed fast when you just quit swimming completely. I'm not saying it wasn't worth it..
Sprints hurt like hell when you're out of shape.
IT bands do heal! I didn't feel it at all out there.
Wyatt can fake a broken foot really well (3 hours of ER later..)
My road rash still makes people gag.
Sunday brunch was more fun when I ate sugar.
Henry throws a mean spiral.. he, Patrick and Jim Wee had a good game going post-awards.

No Pressure..

At packet pick-up I found KC, race director and women's coaching star, with a whole new head of hair. She fought ovarian cancer this year and is looking happy and healthy again! And while there I received two things - word that I held the course record (the course changed 3 or 4 years ago..) and the Numero Uno. I told her Bree was coming, but she let me keep the number anyway.

No pressure or anything. I intend to hold onto that 57:10 course record for the next 48 or so hours, until the gun goes off. Because lord knows I can't run an 18 minute 5k off the bike anymore.

While the number one is fun, I did get an equally cool number last year at the marathon, one that came with more innuendo than expectation.

The flu flew by, and I'm ready to roll.. and looking forward to my first race in 5 months!

Down for the count.

I guess now is the time. Hard training + a bug in the air = doom.

Katherine and I returned from Kona and within 24 hours she was in the hospital with IV fluids being pumped in, unable to keep anything down. Hours later Ramsey was out too. Hours upon hours of extreme-puking. He has become permanently attached to the couch and is wasting away. Luckily I found Season 4 of The Office at Costco.

I was so screwed. It was only a matter of time. I woke up OK and decided to run while I could. Back to back days of running are miraculously now do-able. I ran an easy 5 yesterday and then mile repeats today on the Honolulu Marathon course. (Did I mention it's gorgeous? Ocean views.. ahem, Gerdes.) My speed workouts during my short little return to running have been slow. Like watch Katherine disappear into a speck on the horizon during a 2 minute pick up slow. Like lap me and I'll jump back in the pack and maybe no one will notice slow.

Something changed today. I don't know if it was the 20-miler over the weekend, or just that my legs are finally catching up. I saw old times. Pre-IT band injury times. My miles were 6:13 - 6:18, except for the one up Diamond Head. That one is nobody's business but my own. Not even training peaks knows. Not record-breaking pace or anything, but there were a bunch of them.

Not four hours later I was sitting in the office and suddenly my eyeballs were hot in my head. Then nausea hit. Damn. On the plus side, I made it home without puking in my car.. barely. Looks like I'm taking a few day off..

KN & I post first 100+ miler of the Kona build -- down for the count.

The start.

It's triathlon frenzy time here. The volume of my friends' training is wild. I go back and forth between scared for their health and scared that I am just a clueless bimbo for not doing more. I mean, I just took two days off in attempt to develop scabs. There's a goal I never thought I'd have. I haven't swam in 8 days. I am not healing.. and it might have something to do with all the lip sunscreen I smooshed into the road rash for two days in Kona. I had to keep the sweat out. Sweat burns. I almost made Bree throw up - she says I greatly undersold my grossness.

Ironman Wisconsin over the weekend was an incredible race. I was screaming for Hillary Biscay and jumping up and down in tears happy when she crossed the line. Hillary is so much fun, and I love seeing someone do what they love - and succeed. That comeback re-pass at mile 25 shows so much mental strength and strong will.. I am so impressed.

Ironman Wisconsin is the reason I decided to do a triathlon. In 2003, about 8 months pregnant with Sky, I went to Madison to watch my friend compete and witnessed my first triathlon. My friend Julie, also quite pregnant, and I rolled around the run course on mountain bikes. I thought it was insane. I'm sure I said NEVER. And then decided to do a sprint once Sky was on the outside.

Holding my friend's baby in Verona, ready to pop with baby #3 myself.

When Sky was nine months old I did an Xterra race. I hadn't been off-road on a bike since high school. It was ugly. My friend Candes convinced me to do the women's sprint a couple of weeks later. I spent $200 on a very used 58 cm steel fuji road bike with flat pedals. I stood knee deep in the water nursing Sky to make sure I was on empty, and lost Ramsey. I found him just before the gun went off for the baby hand-off. I felt I had a huge advantage in T2 because I didn't have to change my shoes. I came in 9th, placed in my age group, and got my first medal. I was sold.

That was four years ago this weekend. It took me two years to do what I said I never would - Ironman. And I loved it. But I might love the little Na Wahine Sprint Triathlon coming up this weekend more. All the girls are coming out. The past five year's winners are racing. More importantly, there will be at least 100 women doing their first triathlon. And up at the front it's going to be fast. No doubt Bree is recovered from Canada/Kentucky, and I don't expect to see anything of her but her kick-bubbles for about 10 seconds, then she'll disappear. Katherine is killing me in training and will likely kick my ass. Tanya has won every cycling race on the island, and there are some new girls on the rock as well.. I cannot wait to race again, it's been much too long.

My first Ironman - having way too much fun up Palani.

Not healing.

Back when I used to go diving a few nights a week with all the old oceanographers at the Ala Wai, I was given fresh fish regularly. We would dive in the evening, they would shoot things while I looked at pretty shells and followed the little black-tips around the 100-foot hole, and then they would send me home with a fish. Then triathlon happened and my supply ran dry. Gordon caught a 40 lb Ono today and I got the call that there was plenty to share. When I lived on Moorea, the fishermen would bring in a Mahimahi, grill it up at the dock and feed us. It was the best thing I had ever eaten. I still don't like fish from the grocery store.. but fish right off the boat is heavenly. Here's tonights dinner, just before I covered in in greek spices and threw it on the grill. That's a 9 x 13 container!
Sometimes the healthy eating isn't all that hard. Dare I say it's becoming a habitt? I'm a bit ashamed to admit I couldn't finish an entire Lava Java brownie at the end of the Kona weekend.. I tried to cheat, but it was just too rich. What is happening to me?

Other strange things are going down around here - like I kind of want to go swimming. It's been 8 days. Stefan's 6:45 Kaimana swim actually sounded appealing when I woke up this morning. Dawn sent a care package and I have a plethora of new Splishes to choose from.. nothing motivates me like blatant materialism.

It's triathlon frenzy time here. The volume my friends are training is scaring me. I go back and forth between scared for their health and scared that I am just a clueless bimbo for not doing more. I mean, I just took two days off in attempt to develop scabs. There's a goal I never thought I'd have.

I almost made Bree puke. And I didn't even have to give her gatorade to do it! Bree says I undersold the gore. Wyatt asked when I will stop being so gross. Here's the thing with the road rash recovery - it's not recovering. Perhaps it was the long run the day after the crash, or the swim race two days later.. or maybe the whole Kona weekend, when I crammed lip sunscreen into it all to keep the sweat out, because sweat hurts and bandages aren't made for 6h rides. Any tips on how to stop the tree sap? I have disinfected, tried keeping it covered and now am going the airing it out route. Nothing is working.

Kona Sweet Kona.

Forty hours after leaving Oahu, I am home. And I am so much better for the training trip. I love Kona. I love to run. I am back, it is on, and I am going to be ready.

On Friday we rode past Hawi to the cutest little town I have ever seen. Cuter than Hawi even. The weather was gorgeous, and the 25-mile stretch from Waikoloa back to town was still hell, just like it is every time. You know it's bad when I stop talking. Katherine and I didn't draft at all, and did the Kawaihae-Hawi stretch 50-100 yards apart so that we would both get the full workout. The only talking in the last 20 mi was when I may have muttered something about a vag-otomy as she went by near Hualalai. I'm crass when I'm tired.

The two mushroom-heads - it's 8 am and we've already been up for 5 hours.. let's go ride for 6!

The first stop of the day, where we learned that Vittora Pit Stop sucks and that houses being moved take up the whole shoulder.. Katherine can jump into the bushes quickly when necessary.

Katherine did a quick brick run off the bike. I did a quick Jamba run. Protein Berry Workouts with blueberries instead of strawberries and extra protein fit well in my bottle holders. My slippers didn't work that great with my keo pedals though.. especially up Palani.

We had dinner at Lava Java - who new they made real food? The veg pizza and the sunset were incredible. The Wees rolled by on their way to ice cream for Kainoa.

First thing up in the morning was the run. The run was hard. The run was incredibly beautiful. The run was 20 miles exactly, finishing at the line.. and the run was a gift. I had doubts about my injury because it had whined all week. We left the Seaside and headed to the energy lab, where Wee came out to cheer us on, offer cold drinks and take photos that are probably not too pretty. About 15 miles in, out at Honokohau Harbor, I declared my love for running. We raced up the Queen K to the top of Palani. And even with a slow start we held an average pace of 7:20 per mile. That was the run I needed to change my mind, to remind me why I am racing Kona. That was the pace I needed to be able to hold onto again, comfortably quick, pain-free, smiling.

We hit Jamba immediately after finishing with a sweaty $10 bill. The grumpy Jamba girl said $10.31. Hmm. I looked in her tip jar. She did not find that amusing. So I turned around and asked the man behind me if I could bum 31 cents. He kindly loaned us the money, then told us he had seen us on the highway. And that he is the volunteer coordinator for Ironman. This is Joe, the man who saved our recovery and the man who organizes all those awesome volunteers for us on race day. The man brave enough to touch us after that run when I wouldn't have touched Katherine with a ten foot pole. Joe rocks.

I suppose I should have included on the food run-down post that I was showing my rest day eating. I am not a big eater by nature. In Kona this weekend there were thousands of calories consumed.. and even a little chocolate. I do track online to make sure the protein and cals are high enough, I promise! And now I have the Weezles.. Bree's home-made all natural energy balls that are so good! She sells them in stores in Kona and brought K & I a bunch of different flavors at lunch after the run. We scarfed them down all afternoon.

Kona was a blast.. we ran into Peaman, and visited Linda at Bike Works, which is such an incredible store.. they even sell Splish! We chatted with superstar Lieto and Aaron on Alii as they headed for an evening swim (feeding time.. ). Every where you turn in Kona there are friendly faces.

You know those morons that make your plane late because they won't just get on and sit down? All giddy and goofy on the tarmac because they had a great trip? Yeah, that's me.

I realize that my bag is bigger than my shorts. At least I'm not wearing compression socks..

About that sugar thang..

I've gotten a few questions as to the no-sugar thing.

Yes, I know I'm not obese or anything. No, I don't think sugar is the root of all evil.

Here's the thing: I can't do sugar in moderation. Giving me just a little bit of chocolate is like giving Robert Downey Jr. just a little bit of cocaine.

I'm only in my second week now, but there are changes. My nails are longer than they've been in months. I can kind of see where my abs might be hiding. My skin (where I have it) is clear. I ran a two hours without needing an immodium. I don't necessarily think the lack of sugar is to blame for it all - I think it's the unprocessed stuff I've been replacing the sugar with that's doing the trick.

I have found that the only thing that really works for me is to be a total food bore. Same things, every day. You give me choices and I'm going to choose crap, every single time. So this is the routine:

Soy latte and an apple - breakfast of out-of-shape-ions. Look close and you can see my sunrise ocean view from my 15th floor office.

Spinach salad with chickpeas and various other veggies from the Carrot Patch for lunch.. $3.65 for all that today!

16 oz Jamba all-fruit when the four pm sweet-tooth rolls around, which works out nicely because that's when I leave work and head off to swim/bike or run. Did you know that Jamba Juice has a secret menu? I haven't tried to place a covert order yet.. but I hear something about a "white gummie bear" smoothie I might have to inquire about.

Parisian salad with some extras from Costco for dinner.

I know I should eat more for breakfast.. but I am just not a morning eater. Starbucks just added oatmeal with nuts and dried fruit to their morning selection. I'll pretty much do whatever the mermaid tells me to, so I may be adding in some oats soon.

The bike is packed, all fancy as usual (someday I'll shell out for real packing tape and not find the bike box in a dumpster..) and I am off to Kona to adjust my attitude. And hide from Pat and Wee all day so they can't take pictures of me and the stuff that kind of looks like tree sap covering all my road rash out there on the Queen K!

PS - Big Weenie there cut those bangs herself. I did not do that to her. Just FYI.

burn-out.

Two years ago September, I was scared to death. Going into my first Ironman, in Kona of all places, I wondered if I was training enough. I wondered if I would even finish. Everyone I met told me his or her horror story of walking 26.2 or getting blown off the road..

Last September, I was just having fun. I was training with Katherine and Amy, had a couple of Ironmans under my belt, and was confident that I could finish and hoping to better my time. I was enjoying every minute of it.

That brings me to this September. Kona will be my fifth Ironman in a little under 2 years. My ninth marathon in that span. If I could do the training right, I think I would be loving it. But I am over it. All of it. Enough chronic injury. I am done with S! tabs and Infinit and Powergel. I am sick of everything going wrong. People have always called me lucky. I have always believed that I make my own luck. So is it something in me making my luck so terrible lately? My right leg works intermittently. The road rash kept me up all night, more painful than the day it happened. Conveniently located at each joint on my left side, the big raw patches refuse to heal and hurt with every move. I gave up at 4 am and went to do the speed workout. You know that girl Katherine I said I can do all my training with because we're always the same pace? Well, we're not the same pace anymore. I can't keep up.

Which is why Friday's Kona trip is well-timed. Last year Katherine, Amy and I covered the course in two days:

This year it's just Katherine and I, and we'll do the same. First flight over Friday morning, ride out to Hawi, stop and enjoy the town for a little bit, since we don't do that often, ride back and run off the bike. Then Saturday we'll lay out our aid stations and head to the Energy Lab & back. When we're feeling recovered enough, we'll swim the course.. or our best clueless approximation.

Perhaps the trip will remind me of all that I love about Ironman Kona and the fun I have there each year. And if it doesn't, then sayonara Kona. Racing in Kona is a luxury, not a requirement. If things don't start to come around, I'm going to slip Wee my Timex jersey, glue some braids to her head and send her out there to stand in for me.

I thought about asking Sky if she had any pearls of four year-old wisdom about Kona and whether I need to stop and consider that perhaps everything is stacked against my racing for a reason. I thought maybe she could help me adjust my attitude with her innate, sweet happiness. I looked over to where she was standing just as she held a diet coke can to her crotch and said to Wyatt: Look at my big weenie! and decided I had better not interrupt. Or listen to her about anything important, ever.

Won't somebody get me off of this reef?

Troy caught my Somebody Please Shoot Me face.

I had Sublime's Badfish stuck in my head for 1:20:20 today. Yeah, 2.4 miles in 1:20. That's 28 minutes slower than I swam 2.4 three weeks ago. Lord knows I'm weak, won't somebody get me off of this reef? As the tegaderm peeled off along the way I stuffed it in my swim suit. For twenty minutes I swam directly over a sleeping turtle fifty feet below. I shit you not. It was a turtle. It was asleep. And I could not get past it. After looking at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel under my right arm from 9:42 to 10:02, I decided to swim there instead. Couldn't get away from the turtle in that direction either. I didn't sign up for a treadmill swim! A kayaker came and encouraged me to head back for the buoy line. I asked if he was with me because I was the last A-waver. He just laughed, which I took for a yes. I finally found the turn buoy and with 800 to go I started to throw up in my mouth. Which is always fun. It was rough today at the Roughwater and I got nauseous. I thought once the road rash was submerged and the initial burn passed it would be gone for good. No such luck. It would come on intermittently and take my breath away. I swam alone because I know when the current is strong in Waikiki I need to get inside. I should have followed the pack. Because bloody in a crowd in the middle of the ocean is better than bloody and alone.

I horrified people with my road rash. I told lies about falling into the tiger pit at the zoo. I went for kind of a rainbow-bright got dragged through the desert behind a horse look today - this is Katherine, Ann, Laurie and I before the fun began:

This picture of Ryan needs to be shared because it's goofy and people who swim that fast need to be ridiculed every once in a while.

The good news: everyone sucked today. I placed 2nd in my age group after that miserable experience. Katherine won her age group. I never, ever dreamed I would place at the Waikiki Roughwater, even on a good day. Here's the husband, way ahead out of the water as usual:

Everything about this weekend was too hard, too long, too tiring. I need a nap. And more tegaderm. I had an I am so over Ironman kind of day. Two margaritas and a cookie helped. I think I get a cookie for every 8th day of good eating. I think I deserve a cookie. I also think I can justify just about anything. It's my blog.