Back in the water..

But only to show Stefan just how much we appreciate his coaching:

Wendy, Maggs, Hina, Stefan, me, Katherine, and five more Stefans.

I hunted down a photo of Stefan, simplified it a little in Photoshop and Dawn & Ira at Splish made these suits for us. The girls met early, suited up, and headed to the usual Tuesday morning swim. We were meant to be 8 - but a few couldn't make it. Stefan had a good laugh upon realizing that was his face we were sporting as we all walked up to Kaimana together. We're lucky to have you out there coaching every Tuesday and Friday, Stefan!

I swam well today and was again hit with a taste of regret about my race last weekend. I should not have swum 1:04. I should have cared more and fought harder. Then I reminded myself that it's time to let go and get over myself. The 24 hours to wallow are long over!

Things are happening. I start work with a new company the week after next. I will be writing environmental impact statements. Hippie-science background + writing = good. I like the people already.

I wrote a piece for Honolulu Magazine that will run in December. It's twice as long as the one they gave me in June.. I'll post a link when it hits the web. I'm editing away, freelance, in the evenings. Thanks, Allan.

And I have a race plan. It's a short-term plan, but there is a race on the horizon. Soon. And there's no bike required. I have to fly on a big metal death-box, yes, but it will be worth it. I'm deeming Kona my long run day, and now it's taper time. Recovery, recovery, recovery! More on that plan later..

I traded my bike for five Splishes and a doughnut.

I managed to keep her out of the pool on Friday - by telling her that her boots would make her sink. This is Sky post-field trip. I'm going to have to ask the Oakley man for another pair of those glasses.. she keeps stealing mine.

Jaco, the physical therapist superstar, turned 40 yesterday. You know it's a good party when you catch your hair on fire. This photo is pre-fire, pre-kamakaze shots, and pre-burlesque dancers. At some point we stopped taking photos. I owe Wen big time for telling me what that stink was, then extinguishing my hair.


It's the first weekend of no Ironman.. but I didn't have too hard a time finding things to do.

I finally painted the new bedroom. Well, supervised the painting of the new bedroom, anyway.. they don't enforce child labor laws in Hawaii, do they?


I took a lesson from Wyatt in recovery. He decided that Wii baseball was too much work standing up, so he played lying down. With fluids near to keep hydrated.


I ran, just because I felt like it. Carrie at Saucony gave me these last Friday, and I broke them in with my favorite marathon. I love them.. and put 20 easy miles on them this week.


My bike is still on the Big Island, enjoying a little vacation. It's probably lying on Hapuna beach right now watching the tiger sharks cruise by. Or maybe it's on a barge.. or maybe it rolled off the barge and sleeps with the fishes. Who cares?

There are lots of questions about next year. Pro card? Kona qualifier? Boston? I have no plans, and really no idea of what I want. It hit me somewhere along the Queen K last week that triathlon is not a have to. It's a want to.. if I want to. I've got lots of time to figure that out.

I can't hear you when you use your whiney voice.

Apparently someone listened, because my whining has been answered.

During an interview at 8 this morning, I was offered a job. At 9am, I was offered another, for a lot more money. At noon I was offered a great racing opportunity - no bike required. And at 5pm I was hired to write a piece for a local magazine. Two hours later, I was offered another web design gig. Did you hear the PHEewwwww? I just lost ten pounds from my shoulders. Not really, but that is on my off season list of things to do.

Kona pics keep rolling in. Did I mention my head was not in the game on the bike? Somehow D or Von managed to capture that feeling:

I forgot to smile for my finish picture. I also forgot to pick up a finisher's shirt, a medal, or buy my finisher photo. I did remember to touch Andy Potts' arm when he walked by me.. there are instincts even IM can't take away. Luckily Tess caught me on Alii, so there's evidence that I finished. And that I have one giant leg and one skinny one. And now I'm worried that I might be four months pregnant.

My form is crap, but my Splish by Betty Designs is potentially awesome enough to divert attention away from the arm crossing and knock-knees.

I am chaperoning a kindergarten field trip to the Contemporary Museum today. It's one of the most beautiful spots on Oahu. When I told my daughter I was coming, she told me to put extra clothes in my bag. Why? Because I'm going to jump in the pool! she said, with the most evil laugh I have ever heard out of her. As far as I know, she's never even been to TCM. But the pool is hard to resist..

Reality Bites.

I think I had ten of Bonnie's M-dot cookies on monday.. easing me back into reality in a sugar-haze.

It's funny how far away a 40 minute flight can take me. In Kona I forgot about it all. Well, except for missing my kids. Some of them, some of the time, anyway. I forgot about the job hunt. I have two promised offers that have not materialized. I am in the midst of three interviews in 24 hours. High heels hurt. Not knowing where the mortgage will be coming from hurts more.

In the wake of Kona, acquaintances and colleagues here on Oahu tell me that they can't believe I could do something so difficult. And I think to myself that I had a week of vacation with ten rather intense hours scheduled in. I had friends from all over the world to play with, good food, and an excuse to put my feet up any chance I got. It's real life that's hard.

While Animal Planet would tell you this anole is molting, I like to think of it as shedding my perma-splish. My back looks much like his does right now:

My kids continue to crack me up. Democracy took on a new meaning in the back of the volvo yesterday. There was a vote on the way home regarding whether Jurassic Park or Hannah Montana's 3D Concert would be the family movie night choice. Hands were raised for each, then Sky declared: It's one against two, I win.

I wonder if that would have worked on the podium at Kona. You're 9:55, you're 10:05, I'm 10:06.. I win.

I ran an hour easy this afternoon. Three days of sitting still was enough! Time to start thinking about the marathon in December..

Race photos & Cliff-jumping.

First, let's talk a little about Ironman-induced delirium. I mentioned that K had a difficult day out there. There were copious amounts of vomit. But she fought hard to come back and after suffering through the first 13.1, she ran like crazy to catch up with a 3:35 marathon split. Katherine is an incredibly talented woman and I am always impressed by the way she seems to do it all, and do it well. But it turns out that she is no good at putting sunscreen on her own back. In her depleted state, she decided to sunscreen up with a face stick at some point on Saturday. It kind of looks like she tried to write foxy across her lower back:


Some folks out there on Saturday were living for the finish chute. This is the moment I was living for - it's all about getting to T2. Thanks C&KY for the photo:

It's funny how quickly you can tell what's in (or isn't in) your legs. The grimace-smile at Wee sums up that oh-crap-this-is-going-to-hurt feeling I had as I started the marathon:

As I ran up Palani Hill I found myself really, really dizzy and thinking about walking it. OK, I was dying to walk it. Then I looked at the Timex banners all lined up and thought "run past Timex before embarrassing Timex" and made it up somehow. I dove for the first salt score right after this shot. Note that the dude on the left is having a really hard time shaka-ing with his right hand. He must have overlooked that in his training regimen.

This is the end: the turn at the bottom of the hill onto Kuakini. I was a little delirious, because I didn't recognize Aaron as I came up on him, and realized who he was as I passed and he patted my shoulder and said something encouraging. He's the CEO on my left - the fittest CEO in the world. In my memory it's dark out at this moment. I have no idea why, but apparently my brain was playing tricks on me. If you look closely, Ramsey is just off his shoulder, running down to catch me at the finish:

Thanks Jon for the photos!

Sunday morning Tom, the maker of Team Timex, picked Ramsey and I up to go jump off the cliffs at Keauhou. It doesn't look very high in the photos. But trust me, it was scary. This is me pointing out to Ben, Tom & Scott that it's a long way down and maybe we ought to rethink that whole ladies first thing:

Tristan, Tom, Ben, me & Keith - Ramsey told us to stick out our guts. Only Tom fell for it:

Awards were wet. There were rivers running across the parking lot and shelters being built out of tables. I took cover from the pouring rain under my bowl while on the podium, and Bob Babbit gave me hell for bringing my beer up with me. Some of the Oahu gang during the rain - Billy, Mark, John and Cliff. As expected, John swam faster than Andy Potts - 47 and change and went 9:22 in his first Ironman.. with a flat! That's crazy fast.


Ramsey and I braving the floods to head out to the parties..

The responses to my report were so encouraging, and as time goes by I find myself more and more satisfied with what I did out there on Saturday. Thank you everyone who cheered me on, in Kona and on the web! A big shout out to Haley, who also left it all out there, including the entire contents of her stomach. I found her on Alii suffering through her first Kona as a professional. She ran with me a bit, but was too sick to run for very long. She fought it out though, and finishing when it all goes wrong is an incredible feat and a win in itself. You rock, Haley!

I can never sleep after IM.

You know you've been racing all day when you find yourself eating pb m&ms and stuffing the wrappers down your shirt hours after finishing. I was sitting next to a garbage can.

So much happens during an Ironman. But there's not that much to say:

I swam inside, away from the crowd and didn't get beat up. I was never scared. I also didn't get the draft and swam slower than last year in spite of big swim gains. I was really disappointed with my 1:04.

The bike was OK until Waikoloa, then all hell broke loose. The cross winds were lifting my front wheel off the ground and dropping it a foot over.. it was scary, and some people crashed. The climb to Hawi felt great. I saw Cathy near Waikoloa, just as happy and sweet as can be. Her entire family is just pure joy and so fun to be around. I saw Chrissie in her splish part way up to Hawi. Coming down the same thing was going on with the wind and I slowed way down. Coming back, I did my usual sucky space out. My time of 5:35 continues the trend (3 Konas: 5:22 5:28 and 5:35) of getting slower. You can't fake it in winds like that, and my six week build from zero to 112 wasn't enough.

The run did not start off well. I ran the first mile in 6:35. oops. R told me the AG winner was 20 minutes up. My legs did not want to go. My brain yelled walk, it's useless, quit, and every step of the day was a battle. I kept picking places up ahead to quit. Or walk. I didn't talk like I usually do. I had nothing. Liz cheered me on a lot, until I passed her husband. Kerrie actually heckled her husband when I started to come up on him. My salt dissolved so I picked up salt tabs on the ground along the way and ate them. Really. In front of the big group of Bocas cheering me on up Palani I was waving and trying to smile, then -- ooh! a salt tab! pop it in mouth and back to running. They said it was 108 in the energy lab and I believe it. I ran 3:21. For a grand total of 10:06 -- my new Ironman personal worst, in both time and placement. I was 3rd in my AG, fourth amateur.

But I am happy. I've never run so hard, or fought so hard to keep moving. Not walking a step was an accomplishment in itself. I got what I expected. I knew it was going to be hard, and it was. I've only raced in easy Kona conditions, and these were not them. But I love the people at these races, and all the support and watching the accomplishments. And I think it's a blessing that I didn't get the slot for next year by winning the AG, because it's time for a rest from IM. Maybe shorter stuff, or maybe just marathons.. but as grumpy and ungrateful as I was going into this, well, I need to listen to that. If I miss it, it will be there.

Katherine had a hard day as well, and went 10:40. She was sick for most of the bike ride. We agreed that it's time to come volunteer next year.. so that's the plan.

I don't have any race photos yet, just another from pre-race and a bunch from after. Heading out to dinner the evening prior, we ran into Stefan, our swim coach, and Joe and Steve by the finish:

When Raul heard I had no salt he scrounged around and found me some. He rode out with it, but by the time he found me I had already scored a whole bag of salt stick pills off the queen K and was OK. So nice! Joe, on the left, told me I looked hot every time I ran by, which was also very nice.

Doug the Enigma Berner was here for this photo, but disappeared from the bar at some point.. vanished.
JQ, Suzanne, Traci & Keri, my Oahu girlfriends, flew over to watch the race. Here they are writing chalk notes to me on the run course. This is the view of the hot corner from our balcony.

Tim placed 15th pro in his first Kona.. 30 years after his dad did Ironman back when it was on Oahu. His wife, adorable Mariane, did her first ever and flew through it in 10:40.

The gang watching the final finishers from the bleachers:


Race photos to follow..

crap crap crap.

tomorrow i have to do something way too hard. to remind myself of why i signed up for this yet again, i went back and found last year's race report. since i was blogless back then, i thought i would repost it here.

also, my shift button fell off. i know there's another on this old crappy dell, but i cannot change my typing today.

i made the traditional last minute shoe-change to a killer pair of orange saucony fast twitches. the ft is my go-to shoe, the new silver zoots were rubbing just a little wrong.. so carrie at saucony set me up. how could i turn down orange? <-- found the shift.

two photos from today first: the morning swim. tiffany is the sherpa-neuroscientist extraordinaire here from toronto. katherine is wide awake and ready to roll. and i am still half asleep.. but can't ever resist an opp to show off a cute splish.

i woke up half an hour later, by the time i ran into the three lieto boys at breakfast; matt, chris & kaden.


and to remind myself that tomorrow will be fun (when the bike is over).. last year's long report, as written for the timex blog;

Someday when I am old and fat and slow you will wonder to yourself -Why the hell is Rachel Ross still on the Timex Multisport Team?- so I’ll clue you in now: it’s the pictures I took of our team management at Kona.

Ever had a fever that made you totally delirious? Apparently I tried to swap bikes with Joe Boeness at the bike drop off on Friday afternoon. I have no recollection of this, but Joe doesn’t lie. I slept/hallucinated the rest of Friday away, and woke up ready to go on race day, after my horse-pill sized ibuprofen to get the fever down. I had my pre-race cry (thank you ironmanlive for catching that on film and replaying it for all at the awards ceremony) and got my sorry butt into the water just in time for the cannon. I decided to line up in the front and let the people who actually know how to swim go over me until I found some feet. It was a little painful, but it bought me a six minutes swim PR, so it was worth all the panicked underwater screaming. Swim: 1:03:50.

I rolled over some duct tape in T1 so I got to listen to it flap for 112 miles against my brakes. It was kind of like that water-drop torture you hear about. It was melted on by the end and is now part of my race wheel. April and I passed each other back and forth for the first 30 miles or so, and yelled back at men making inappropriate comments about body parts they shouldn’t be that close to if riding legally. Shortly after Hawi, my eyeballs started to burn in my head again. I reached for the Tylenol to kill the fever and dropped it – and smartly decided to go on. By Waikoloa I was on fire. Not in a good way. I knew the fever was back and it was high. My thinking was cloudy and I was having funky daydreams. So I sat up and spun it in slowly, dreaming of the 800 mg ibuprofen in my T2 bag. It was hard to watch my goal bike split go by, but I managed to get in with time of 5:28:46.

I started the run and saw the family immediately. My training buddy Wil screamed “you have to run 3:23 or better to break 10 – you can do it!” He later told me “I didn’t think you could do it, you looked like crap.” Thanks, dude. I, on the other hand, had planned on running 7:30s the whole way and breaking 3:20, so I actually did think I could do it. I found a Big Island friend and ran down the first of two girls in my AG that were ahead, chatting all the way. Jeff dropped off, so I ran the second 5 mi back to town with Fernanda Keller, who was not feeling very chatty but was a pleasant companion none the less and steady with her 7:30s. I caught the other girl in my AG on the way back to town. Up Palani was more of a party than a run, I saw my kids, my parents, my Oahu friends, and Macca coming down the hill for the win. Sharpie screamed that she loved me, totally making some nearby perv’s day. The pace was pleasant and I made small talk along the road, even though I swore I’d shut up and run this year. Out at the energy lab I saw my superstar friend Bree Wee ahead in the first amateur position (fortunately for me the girl’s a baby and still in the 25-29 AG) and knew I was the next one behind her. I love the energy lab. It’s beautiful and truly the beginning of the end. Lots of people were puking - apparently they don’t love the energy lab. I tried to pick it up for the last 10K home, but it seems holding 7:30s had become my max. I rolled down Palani and onto Alii fairly confident that sub-10 was in the bag. There is nothing like turning onto Alii and seeing that arch. Though it really should be closer to the actual timing mat.. My marathon split was 3:18:45, for a finish time of 9:56:21.

Wednesday in Kona..

Yes, that is Ironman perfume. No, it does not smell like B.O., although that would be appropriate. It was in the goody bag. Along with 6 conifers worth of paper. The Ironman folks are not at all concerned with that whole deforestation/global warming thing, based on the contents of the goody bag:

The 8:30 am flight to Kona was stacked with Boca-ites, with Yamamoto-san, K & I and Olympic-trial swimmer Flanagan all jumping on board the 40 minute flight. Flanagan ran a marathon once in prep for his first Ironman - in 2:50. You will hear his name when the first amateur comes out of the ocean on Saturday morning.

Team Timex mechanic extraordinaire Doug set up my bike for me. And found himself a present stashed in the fancy cardboard box. We surfed the Sunday after Kona last year and I hear board shorts are hard to come by in Wisconsin. I came back half way through to find my poor naked bike with no crank, fork, wheels, seat.. apparently something got lost in the frame. She's all set now, and Alex M-M even knew how to fix my powertap. It's sad, but I am no longer Chris Lieto.

It's go go go when you arrive this late. The first stop was the Zoot tent at Huggo's for my race shoes. The 09 ultras are silver and I love them! And while I was there I got to meet Kristin of Betty Designs, who designed my race suit for Kona. Which I hear will be arriving tomorrow.. Kristin and I have similar taste in sunglasses:

David Goggins was at the expo. It'll be his first Ironman. He does 100 milers, Badwater, and the Ultraman, so I asked if this would feel like a sprint. He said he doesn't know what sprinting is. He is worth googling - the man is incredible. And somehow The Sergio always ends up in my hottie photos.. what a coincidence.

After the panel at the expo, my bike was ready to roll and then it was off to registration, room check-in, and general running around like a chicken with no head. I met Tracy and Shawn and got my Nuun-addiction refueled. I had a powerbar for lunch. And another a few hours later. At some point Katherine put my room key in my hand. About 8 minutes later I realized it was gone. The Seaside uses real keys. Giant metal ones. Once I stuffed one down my swimsuit top for a long swim and lost it in the ocean, so I know all about the $50 key replacement fee. I went to visit my coach at the Lifesport Lounge, walked in and dumped out my bag. No key.

Check out my new shoes! And all the crap I carry in my purse. And my IT-band icing set up.

I went and searched the Boca bike shop. No key. I searched the registration area. No key. Then I remembered throwing away lunch's wrapper at Boca and sat down with the trash bin. I went through piece by piece, soggy napkin by chewed-gum nugget, and found the key at the bottom, inside a cardboard powerbar box. And then I washed my hands like Woody Allen.

Off to Lava for dinner and to find more friends.

Science of the Taper.

I found an eerie photo on the web. It's me, getting off the plane in Kona on Wednesday, which totally freaks me out because Wednesday hasn't happened yet.

I know I'm tapering correctly when my kneecaps disappear.

The key to the perfect taper is not sharpen, tune & recover, or any of that silly science mumbojumbo. The key is amusing oneself in order to prevent excess running. Or swimming, because I hear there are people who do that in excess for some reason. It is also important to not get fat, but I don't have any advice to give you on that one because I always just get fat.

Because it's likely Katherine and I are the last racers showing up in Kona, I am still at home on Oahu. I am somewhat unemployed (30h a week until a find something new.. but it's slow.) I am allowed to swim as much as I'd like, but only because as much as I like pretty much means never. So here are some of my methods of self-amusement this taper week:

Dress jet-lagged mom up like a democrat at 2 am Chicago time. At 100 lbs, she's an easy target, in spite of being freakishly strong. Send really, really republican dad photographic evidence:

Help Sky the evil cat decorator torture Sammy with jewelery:

Have a whose-shaggy-hair-is-longer contest with sister. Decide a photo finish is required because I am all hopped up on competitiveness. She wins. I accuse her of cheating. Turns out she's taller sitting down. How many people can say that?

Attempt to play dollhouse with Sky. Even though I suck at dollhouse. I just don't get it. I must get that from my mom, because she lasted about 5 minutes before she called me downstairs to negotiate the hostage crisis. I don't even want to know what happened to those poor guys in the quilted purple master bedroom. Trampled to death by my little pony? All I can say for sure is that things are not looking good for the Good Witch.

On Wednesday morning I am off to the Big Island. I can't promise I'll be a-blogging. The cat-decorator threw a toy tank through the screen of my powerbook. The fix costs as much as a new computer. And laid-off me cannot afford either. I don't think the 2001 Dell cpu/monitor are going to fit in my bike box, but you never know.. it's worth a try!

Haleiwa Triathlon

Hey Wyatt, how many cookies have you had? Powdered sugar doughnuts? One, huh? What's that all over your face? Wyatt loves race food.

Hey Wyatt, what place did your mom come in?

Having missed nearly the entire season here, I jumped in to the Haleiwa Tri this morning. I love this little race on the North Shore. Four years ago it was my second triathlon. And my very first win! Local style post-race festivities under the trees in Haleiwa Park:

It was a 53 minute race, and since it's only 6 days until Kona it was all tempo, no competitive. Half of the 3 mile run is in sand - the deep kind that makes you feel like you're sinking and shoots your heart rate through the roof. I was second off the bike - only Eduardo was out in front of me. At the run turn-around on the Lost set (little huts and trailers everywhere!) before we hit the beach, I saw an unfamiliar man gaining on me. I got into the sand and tried my best to keep the HR down and not work too hard, but the sand wasn't having it. I wanted second overall, but Brian, who is in town to volunteer at the med tent in Kona, could not be held off. He caught me with about 200 yards of sand to go and I finished 3rd human, 1st girl, and a full minute faster than last year.

After the race we hit Shark's Cove at Pupukea for a little swim. I haven't seen it so clear there since I was a kid. The lagoon looked like Tahiti, and now that we have three swimmers we can tool around in the deep stuff, diving for sea urchin spines and chasing fish. A couple more days of work, gear gathering and resting up, and on Wednesday it's off to Kona I go..

What race?

I know I'm supposed to be excited by now. To offer up some sign of confidence or self-doubt or a little blonde-insight.. but I'm deep in one-week-out denial. Like not returning my coach's phone calls deep (hi coach!) There truly may be potential to hurt myself by thinking too hard at this point. When I think about the boredom the bike-dread is overwhelming. If I drown in the swim, my epitaph should read At least she didn't have to ride her bike.

But I am dreaming of that run.. and I know I will get excited about the race when I get off the plane on Wednesday.

I am loading my annual ipod up for Kona. I get a new one each birthday, because I inevitably drown it in sweat by the following September. Or I just run it through the washer/dryer, something even the smartypants at Apple didn't prepare for.

The Kona list in a blob: Move Along - AAR, Kind and Generous - N. Merchant, Burn One Down - B. Harper, This Ain't a Scene It's a GD Arms Race - Fall Out Boy, Unknown Legend - N. Young, Pace is the Trick - Interpol, La Isla Bonita - Madge, Radar Love - Golden Earring, Remember the Name - Fort Minor, Everything - Material Issue, Feel the Pain - Dino Jr., Tomorrow Wendy - Concrete Blonde, Lost - Coldplay

And this one, by The Killers, from the Nike Courage Ad that gives me chicken skin:

The funny thing about today is the date.

Today my friend Allison turns 31 and boards a flight to take the kids to Disneyland.

Today my friend Kathleen turns 33 and is half-way to Vegas, hopefully in first class and a couple of martinis in.

Today my friend Autumn turns 30 and is settling into Texas living.

Today my little sister Celia turns 26 and is coming over to celebrate our birthday with Indian food. Because today I turn 32.

Celia is tan and I'm white. She is petite, I have man-shoulders. I'm six inches taller, and it's 100% femur. Sometimes she calls me Femur. There's no mistaking us for twins, we're just sisters that share a birthday.

Because I envy her youth, I'm going to post an embarrassing photo of my little sister. I have a good idea of what she's doing off the back of that boat..

Odds are if you're a girl and you were born today, I like you. (Or tomorrow, Kristy P, happy birthday!)

Target Practice.

The first time I thought it was silly. And maybe even a little flattering. The second time, I was surprised two people would base their definition of race success on someone else's performance. The third time I heard it, I began to feel like a moving target.

The only person I want to beat at Kona is me. Which I realize gives me something in common with those girls. I will beat the me that decides somewhere around Waikoloa: Screw this ridiculously overpriced torture event, I'm going to drop this bike off at T2 and watch the winners finish from the stands. (With beer and chocolate.) The me that gets bored and chatty as I run through the energy lab, losing focus and making friends to pass time. The me that inevitably panics during the swim start and considers stopping to let the madness go by. If I do the best I can every leg of that race, and stay in the moment instead of spacing out, then I win. Even if some other girl does it faster and tops the podium. Good for her, because she probably had a great day and is ecstatic, and that is all hers.

As always, there are some awesome amateur women racing in Kona this year, many of whom could kick my butt on any given day. My goal is not to beat anyone. My super-secret goal is to beat my time from last year, because why not? If 9:56:19 puts me 12th in my age group, I will celebrate improvement. But I guess that's not super-secret anymore..

As always, my primary goal is to not die. Seriously, people. It's an Ironman. It's a miracle we all don't die. My secondary goal is to race it. With every ounce of me. I would also like to smile through the entire marathon. And to not do so much math because my math sucks by the marathon anyway.

Forgotten taper business

Never mind the sharpen and tune, recover well and hydrate blah blah blah. You want to have something to show off at the morning swims. They call it Dig Me for a reason. Now is not the time to start that carbo-loading hooey. Carbo-loading turns me into the Pillsbury Doughboy, complete with beady eyes buried in my puffy white face. The most important thing you can do at this point my Kona-bound friends is not get fat.

It happened, eventually: eating well became habitual. For dinner we had soba with a ton of veggies and lean protein, thank you Lindsay for the recipe. And I made a vat of Greek Quinoa Salad, light on the quinoa, heavy on the veggies & chickpeas, at the start of the week to take in for lunch each day.

Tonight I decided I needed some less carby snacks, since I no longer have billions of calories to make up and glycogen to replenish. Does it count as processed if I'm the one processing it? I made these high-protein energy bars. I even bought coconut oil. Bree would be so proud! The kicker was the food processor requirement. Them there's real-cook gadgetry. Turns out my coffee grinder worked just fine.. and probably added a little kick.

Also, consider getting a haircut. Not only will this contribute to your Dig Me hotness, but you also won't look like this after a run:

At the start of a run it looks like a braid. It is so long and shaggy that by the finish it looks like a something the cat hocked up and sticks straight out of my head. My hair is stick straight. That is not curl - that is dreadlock. It's going to take me the entire length of Run, Fatboy, Run to untangle that thing I'm holding.