IM France Race Report

Sorry, it's a long one, but need to get it all out...

It’s been about 12 days since IM France, and I am still trying to make sense of it all… being my first Ironman, I didn’t really know what to expect, but I do know that my expectations were not met, which is disappointing to me. So, what worked? What didn’t work? What happened? Let’s see if I can put this experience into words.

Pre-Race:

Garren and I arrived in Nice on Wednesday morning. Flights went smoothly, luggage arrived safely (even though the bike box was open and a bit torn up). There is only a 2 hour time difference between Dubai and Nice, so that wasn’t an issue to contend with. The weather in Nice was great compared to Dubai – cool(er) and comfortable. As soon as we arrived, we took a car and toured the 180km bike course with some other athletes. It was nice to see the course, but I was never worried about the climbing, and seeing it firsthand didn’t change my mind. In fact, I was pretty over it about halfway, when I started getting carsick from all the twists and turns. We had to stop a number of times so I could get out of the car and get some fresh air… not fun. It made me wish I was on my bike instead of in the car. So – did the course tour help? Can’t say it did, can’t say it didn’t. It was good, but I don’t think it was necessary. It was never really a concern of mine.

On Thursday, we went down to the swim area to test the waters. It was so much nicer and cooler than the water in Dubai, and it felt great to be in the water. Garren and I rode for about 1 ½ hours after that, exploring the coast and navigating the busy, narrow roads. While the traffic was a bit stressful for me, the ride was good and my legs were feeling ready to go. Plus the scenery was amazing. After the ride, we had a short run, and then headed to registration. It was so nice to get my first Ironman wristband, probably my most exciting pre-race moment. After being on the sidelines for so many I felt as though I was finally part of the show.

The next two days lasted FOREVER. We took a trip into Cannes on Friday, which was really just to kill time, but I can’t say that it was fun or enlightening. We swam both Fri and Sat mornings, but just short swims to get used to the pebbly beach and my suffocating wetsuit. I had a short ride on Sat, and almost got run over by an old French dude in a car…that wasn’t cool, but the run after was good and I felt ready to go. Looking back, it was nice to have that much time before the race. We really had nothing to do so I was a bit bored and ansy, but if it was shorter I might have been a little stressed out. Good news is that I was never really nervous, mostly just ready to race.

Race Day:

Early morning breakfast consisted of a pb and nutella sandwich, a staple before all of my early am training rides. Our hotel was only about 100m from the start/finish/transition area, which was super nice and convenient. The line to get into transition was however, not so convenient. We stood in line for at least 10 minutes – and that made me sick to my stomach. Standing in a tight crowd, watching the minutes on my watch tick away, worrying that I wasn’t going to have enough time to get ready. But I eventually made it into transition, checked my bike, pumped up my tires, and proceeded to don the wetsuit. Rebecca and I walked down to the beach together, arm in arm – our months of training together finally put to the test. It was exciting and emotional for both of us, and I am so glad that she was there for everything – the training, the race, everything. Garren too… but his role would come to light later in the day.

I am usually sick to my stomach before the swim. As I’ve said before, I don’t care much for the swim – but I felt confident going into this one. I was comfortable and knew what I wanted to do, so I anxiously awaited for the gun to go off. Once fired, we all hobbled down the pebble beach and into the cool water. Feet, arms thrashing all around me – I fought back, and didn’t let any of that get into my head. It took some time to get into a rhythm but my breathing and my stroke finally evened out and before I knew it I was being pulled along with the crowd. There were two laps of the swim course – one was 2400m, the other 1400m. I knew all along that once the 2400m lap was over, it was money in the bank. So, when I got out of the water after the first loop, I just smiled and knew I was almost there. The second loop went quickly, and I continued to feel comfortable in the water. My goal was to go under 1:20 in the swim. I figured every second I could get under 1:20 would be one more second to use for my run, and would get me closer to my overall goal. I came out of the water, looked at my watch. 1:18. I couldn’t help but smile and do a mini arm pump in celebration.

Transition was at least 400 meters long, if not more, but no problem. Took a quick bathroom stop, jumped on the bike and headed out into the mountains of southern France. I was looking forward to this part – I’ve been ready to attack this course since I started training. Bring on the hills! This course had over 2400m of climbing, including a 10% climb at the 20km mark, and a 20km steady climb from 50-70km. I knew once I completed the 20km climb the hard work was over. I went out steady, cruising around 30-33km/hr. Everyone was flying by me, and it was all I could do to just focus on my race and stay easy and consistent. I knew there was a lot of race ahead and I had to be patient. The first climb came quickly as everyone pounded up the 500 meter hill. The course wound through a variety of small villages in the countryside. It was a beautiful course – we rode over cobblestone, through narrow alleys, around sharp corners, just as I pictured a ride through France to be. The 20km climb came soon enough – and that’s where I found my strength. I pedaled steady, heart rate remaining between 155 and 165. Although 165 seems quite high, my breathing was completely under control and comfortable. I was talking with a guy from Belgium for most of the climb. All of those people that flew by me in the first 20km I caught on the climb – they were struggling, breathing hard, sweating, I felt great. I reached the top of the climb around 3 hours into the ride, and was very happy with the time and how I felt. Another smile and mini celebration. The rest of the ride was mostly winding downhill, but with some good 3-5km climbs every once in awhile. I hate descending with a passion, and was passed on every downhill, but I always caught them once it flattened out or we began to climb again. If I could descend worth a lick I would have taken at least 20 minutes off of my ride time… oh well. As the ride continued, I felt stronger and stronger. My legs never felt weak – I was always eager to climb, gaining confidence and strength with each pedal stroke. My goal was to be off the bike in under 7 hours. I think my bike time was around 6:50. Ten minutes more for the run… another mini arm pump. Bring on the run – I am almost there!

Needless to say, I was feeling really good going into the run. My swim and bike had gone according to plan, even better than I expected. My nutrition was solid, I was happy, I felt strong. I had about 4 hours and 50 minutes to run a marathon and I would be under my goal of 13 hours. No problem! But the marathon that was to come ended up being the most frustrating, disappointing and one of the most emotionally challenging events of my life. Even as I write this, it brings tears to my eyes, just as it did in the hours and days after the race. So here goes:

I made it through T2, smiling, talking with the volunteers. Took a look at the official clock, and knew what I needed to do to meet my goal. My legs were a bit wobbly, but I knew they would come around soon enough. The run consisted of 4 x 10km+ loops on an out and back course. There was an aid station about every 1.7km. I made it to the first one, took a sip of water and felt my stomach sloshing a bit. I knew it meant that I had taken in too much. I saw Garren just before the next aid station - I was still smiling and optimistic. We stopped and chatted for a second and I told him that my stomach was a bit upset. He told me to just take sips of water until it settled. I agreed that it sounded like the right thing to do, and continued on. I stopped at the next aid station to use the restroom and empty out my system. The sloshing seemed to stop, but I started to feel the nausea creep in. I made it to the next aid station, and tried to drink some more water, but every sip made me feel more and more nauseous. I continued to run the first lap trying to drink at each aid station, but each sip made me feel like vomiting. Fuel was not an option at this point – just the thought of it was making me feel ill. I survived my first lap in a decent time – I think it was around 1:10. I knew that if I ran each lap at that speed, I would still reach my target time. But at this point, I had gone over an hour without any food and very little water, and was over 9 hours into the race and was running on empty.

The second lap started ok, but I felt my energy levels diminishing. The nausea wouldn’t pass, even when I walked it was there. Sometimes it felt better when I walked, sometimes it felt better when I ran. I made it to the next aid station and knew I needed to take in some water, but still couldn’t stomach it. I sat down for a second on the curb to let my stomach settle. I felt better when sitting, but still felt ill. I got up and continued on. I tried to run, but was dizzy from low fuel and water, I tried to walk but was nauseous. I tried to make myself vomit, sticking my fingers down my throat, but could only dry heave because there was nothing in my stomach. For the next 2 laps of the course, I laid down at every single aid station - that was the only position I could be in without feeling dizzy or sick. It was a struggle just to get to the next aid station – 1.7km felt like 5 miles; even though I could see the flags it felt so far away. I even started laying down in between aid stations because I didn’t think I was going to make it to the next one. I staggered from one to the next, feeling like I was going in and out of consciousness. I had volunteers swooning around me when I laid down offering me food and water. Very nice people, but I wanted them to go away and I wanted to just lay there and sleep for a minute, hoping to wake up and feel better. I tried drinking Coke, and would often take a cup of Coke and a cup of water and go and sit in the shade and try to drink a little of each. Still no better. People kept shouting words of encouragement at me from the side, most of them in French, but the phrase I heard most was “Courage Jenifer.” By the time I had finished the third lap, I was over 5 hours into the run. I started to get emotional. I ran past the finish line as I started my fourth lap and just started crying. I wanted so badly to be finished. It was so hard to run past the finish line and hear the announcer and know that I was still so far away. It was at that time that I saw Garren. I went to him and just put my head on his shoulder and started bawling. I told him that I just wanted to be done, I felt so sick – I couldn’t do anything to make myself feel better. I had tried everything, sips of water, coke – tried to take some Gu, tried an orange, it all just made me feel sick. He asked me if I wanted to quit, but I could only think about all the suffering I had done until that point and I couldn’t imagine quitting with one lap to go. He had checked out his bike from transition and rode next to me as I walked to the next aid station. He gave me his coat because I was freezing, and had been for several hours. I tried running a little, walked some more, sat down some more, cried some more. At the next aid station, I asked Garren to go to the turn around and wait for me and I would try to run there. I was able to make it most of the way running, walked a little, but managed to not sit down until I got to Garren. I sipped some water and laid in the grass next to him. I got up again and decided to run to the next aid station and he would be there again waiting for me. I managed to run to the next one, and didn’t stop, but said to Garren that I was going for broke, and was going to run the whole way back even if it killed me. As I ran, I kept burping and vomiting little bits of liquid into my mouth, but I didn’t care anymore. I was over it and was getting closer to the end. I walked for about 100meters with about 2km to go and then continued to run the rest of the way across the finish line and straight into the medical tent. Through tears I tried to explain to the doctor that I had just been on the marathon course for over 7 hours with no food or water, he checked my blood pressure and saw it was really low and gave me an IV. I laid there on the cot with my visor pulled down over my eyes, crying uncontrollably, thinking about the race. I was so disappointed. How did that happen? How could I be feeling so good going into the run and have it go so terribly? All of that work I had done in preparation and I didn’t even get a chance to run. I didn’t even care that I had finished, I was just so disappointed with the result.

It has taken some time for me to get my head around this race. Yes I finished, and I am proud of that, but I know that I am capable of more, and that’s the frustrating part. In the days after the race, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The high, the low – such an emotional swing. I wanted that day back. I wanted to race again. I was ready to go. It’s been about 10 days since the race and I’m still having difficulty with it. I still get upset when I think about, but I am able to at least talk about it when people ask. I haven’t checked my time or splits on the results page – I don’t want to know how long the marathon actually took, or my final time.

So, what went wrong?

I made 2 mistakes in T2 that I didn’t think about until after it was all over, and those 2 mistakes might have made the difference between a happy and a frustrated stomach. Just before T2, with about a km to go on the bike, I had 15 minutes of fuel remaining in my bottle, and I drank all of it thinking that I needed to get as much fuel in me as I could before the run. That alone would have probably been ok, but I went through T2 and took a couple of salt pills and washed them down with some water. I have taken salt pills on the run before because I am often caked in salt post ride or run. The problem is that my nutrition also has salt in it – so the double dose of salt and the added fuel just wasn’t making my stomach happy. And that’s it really. So simple. I probably could have taken in more water on the ride, but I was definitely well fueled and had a smart, under control ride.

What’s next?

Hulaman – I will be in Oregon in August and Garren and I plan to race the ½ IM there. I am hoping to do another Ironman sometime very soon, maybe December??? We are also thinking about Singapore 70.3 in April. We will see what time and the budget allows....

Ready or not...

I am in the middle of packing but I thought I'd take a break and let you all know that I am, indeed, still alive. We leave for France tomorrow night. My emotions for this race are all over the place, one minute I'm nervous, the next I'm super amped up, the next I'm practically crying because I'm finally doing the thing I've been wanting to do for over 10 years. I'm sure I will be a rollercoster of emotions leading up to the race too, but they are all good feelings, and have kept me motivated from day one of training. I've been told to make a list of my anxieties, and how I plan to overcome them, so here goes nothing:

1. THE SWIM. All of it. It can't be over soon enough. I'm not worried about all the kicking feet and pulling arms, in fact, I'm not really sure why I dislike the swim so much, but it has always been the one discipline that I have to really force myself to do. The good news is that we went out swimming Sat morning in the ocean here in Dubai, and the conditions were terrible. The water was disgustingly hot (seriously - hot tub), and the waves were rolling in set after set. I was uncomfortable in the water, but I kept thinking that if it wasn't so hot, I could swim all day. Somehow I managed to feel strong despite the crappy conditions, and that has given me much needed confidence going into race day. Just have to keep turning those arms over, keep pulling, and the swim will be over before I know it - it's just time... it will pass...

2. Going too hard in the mountains. I love climbing hills, I know it's ridiculous, but I enjoy the pain. I think I like them so much because there is always a reward after the punishment - the top! I felt really confident on my bike about a month ago, but have since lost my climbing legs - I think they took an early vacation with Garren's and hopefully they will meet us in France. So I'm worried about not having that strength in the mountains and then pushing more than I should, which will make for a really long run... I have to be patient (seems to be the key word for this training season). I'm getting good at being patient, but I don't like it.

3. The injury. When I started training for this race, I couldn't run 2 minutes without a sharp pain in my left knee. It was a long slow go at recovery, and I'm still not 100%. My ITB still bothers me from time to time, acts up mostly when I'm dehydrated or needing fuel, but I was able to get in some solid (but slow) long runs in the last month of training. My run has always been my strength, and going into this race, it's a big question mark. I don't like question marks. How will it feel coming off of 180km in the mountains? When will it act up? Should I take something on the run to reduce inflammation? How long is the marathon going to take me? How much will I have to walk? I hate running slow, but I keep reminding myself that at least I'm running. I know there's nothing I can do now about my running speed or my injury. It is what it is. My run plan consists of walking for 20s at every other aid station, which works out to be approx every 3.4km. If my ITB starts to get tight, I will extend my walking time. This is how I trained, so we'll see how it works on race day.

4. Nutrition. I think I've got this one dialed, but going into my first endurance race, I have no idea how my body will react. Luckily, I've gotten pretty good at deciphering my body's aches and grumblings so I can tell when I need water, fuel or when I've had too much. But above all else, I've created a plan, and I need to stick with it. To do this, I have to stay focused and keep reminding myself to take in fuel and water.

I guess that's it for my anxieties. I just need to remember three things and it will be a great day: 1) be patient 2) stay focused and 3)PoMA. You can watch the race and track us at www.ironman.com on race day (June 28). Click on athlete tracker under the France heading. Race time is 6:30am in France, which equates to 8:30am Dubai time, 12:30am East Coast time, and 9:30pm Saturday Pacific Coast time.

So, what's the plan for post race? Mostly relaxation on the French and Italian Riviera...but more exercise too (if my body will allow it). Garren, Rebecca, Matt and I will head to Menton, a village on the italian border on the day after the race. We'll hang out there for 2 nights and drink lots of wine, and eat lots of cheese, crusty bread and crepes (my favorite). Then, Garren and I head to Cinque Terre for 2 nights. There, we'll hike from town to town, stopping along the way for wine, cheese, sun, whatever lies in our path. Then we head back to France for Le Tour! The TdF starts in Monaco this year. (That's one more stamp in my passport!) We will follow the tour on our bikes for the first 5 stages to Montpelier, at which point we will fly back to Dubai. We hope to get some amazing pictures along the way. Stay tuned.

Training and Racing in the UAE

has its trials and tribulations....

The weather in the desert is predictable - it's hot and the sun is always out. Living in the Pacific NW, I got used to checking the weather forecast daily, sometimes hourly, to plan my training and outdoor activities accordingly. I think I've looked up the weather forecast a total of 5 times since I've been here. The weather pages are never accurate anyways, the only way to get a good forecast is to call my friend Janelle who's a local meteorologist. This country tries so hard to coverup anything that might reflect the UAE in a negative light. So much for free press - you'll get deported...

What, Dubai's in a financial crisis? Read the papers here and you wouldn't know it(unless you read the housing for sale or rent and see that prices are dropping fast). Something happened at the US Embassy? I have to find out from friends and family living in the US. Try to look up stats on carbon emissions or other environmental issues for the UAE and you will find that it's either not reported or slightly skewed.

For obvious health and safety reasons, laborers here are not supposed to work outside contruction jobs if the temperature is above a certain point (around mid to high 40's C). But, construction must go on, so they report the temperature about 10 C below what it actually is... Long story short, I don't rely on local weather forecasts, just like I don't rely on anything local.

The weather has recently taken a turn towards the warm side. It was a nice, but short, cool winter. I even wore a jacket for a ride once and was still cold. Amazing. When it was hot, we'd have to get up before 5am to avoid the extreme heat, but we got lazy over the winter, started sleeping in a little more and heading out to train in the middle of the afteroon. About two weeks ago, the heat started to creep back in, but we continued our lazy ways.

Rebecca, Garren and I went out last weekend for a long ride in the desert. Garren had a 4 hour ride scheduled, Rebecca and I were shooting for 2-3 hours on an out-and-back course. We strolled out of bed between 8-9am, ate a leisurely breakfast, drove to the palace and were finally on our bikes around 10:30. We had a strong tailwind for the first half of the ride so we weren't working too hard, but maintaining a decent speed. Garren broke away after an hour to do his own thing, and Rebecca and I continued onwards, thinking we'd turn around after 1hr 20min, giving us 1:40 to get back to the car. We turned around a bit early only to realize how strong the wind actually was. It was a brutal grind back and the wind was hot. We were working twice as hard and going 1/2 as fast as before, literally. It took us 1:10 to go 40k out, and we were at 1 hour and had only gone 20k back. I was pretty comfortable for most of the ride, trying to spin easy and conserve my energy. Then I ran out of water. We both did. It seemed to get extra windy and hot over the next few minutes. I started feeling nauseous, light headed. I looked at my watch and saw my heart rate drop from 150 to 110, then to 70 in a matter of seconds. Classic dehydration. Oops. Rebecca wasn't feeling well either. She wasn't as bad as me, but was tired and out of water. We were in the middle of the desert, no water, and had 20k to go back to the car, which would take at least another hour at our current pace. What to do? Hitchike!

Rebecca waved down the first car that passed. A local family - dad driving, mom/ninja in the passenger seat. Child in the back, not in seatbelt. Rebecca stayed back with the bikes and I jumped in the air conditioned car. The little girl looked at me in horror, and was cramming herself up against the opposite side of the seat to stay as far away from me as she could. She kept staring at my exposed legs and arms, which were finally starting to sweat in the cooler temp. The family took me about 10k to a roundabout at which point they dropped me off - they were headed in a different direction than my car. I started walking and flagged down the next car, two emirati men, headed two more roundabouts to the mosque. I think it was then that I learned of the temperature. 38 C. We had been training in the 20s for the past several months, no wonder we were having issues today. Anyways, after two roundabouts, I got out and started walking again, and flagged down the next car to pass. This time it was just one emirati man, and he took me straight to my car, another two roundabouts away. I chugged some water and a Coke from Garren's car, and then hopped in the Prado to go and rescue Rebecca and the bikes.

We drove back to check on Garren, who of course was doing just fine. He had stopped at the Adnoc (gas station) and refueled with water and some fruit. He's way smarter than we are. But we learned our lesson, and got a good story out of it.

The next day, Rebecca and I (we are glutton for punishment) drove to Al Ain to ride 3 hours, with a climb up Jebel Hafeet. Learning from our heat stroke the day prior, we were up and on the road at 5:30am. We started our ride at 7am, this time heading straight into the wind to start. The wind was relentless. Not only was it blowing hard, but it was picking up things and hurtling them at us. Sand, grass, debris, you name it - we were eating it. After 25 min, we stopped and discussed our predicament. The wind would be just as bad, if not worse, on top of the mountain - making descending very difficult. We decided to keep plugging along, and we would do some hill repeats at a sheltered area at the base of the mountain instead of climbing to the top.

We reached the final road which would take us straight to the base of Jebel Hafeet. The road was completely exposed to wind and surrounded by sand. We were getting mouthfuls of sand, and could barely move forward on our bikes. In fact I stopped pedalling at one point and was even pushed backwards by the wind. This in known as Shamal here in the desert - sandstorm. So we took a few pics (that don't do justice to the strength of the wind) and decided to head back(it took us 40 min to get to our turnaround point, 25 to get home). Another lesson learned.

We ended up going to the InterContinental Hotel in Al Ain, where there was a 33 (weird ???) meter outdoor pool. We got in a good swim, then laid out in the sun for a few hours, making our trip to Al Ain a worthwhile experience.

Faris Al Sultan (pro triathlete) makes his home in the UAE for part of the year. He claims it's the best place in the world to cycle - and he's been pretty much everywhere. I don't disagree, there are endless, well paved roads with little to no traffic. We just need to learn to watch the weather more carefully and plan accordingly...

As far as racing goes... I am both amazed and thankful that there are races here. You wouldn't think that there is much of a triathlon community in the UAE, but it is growing. The racing season is Nov-Apr, and covers a variety of distances - sprint, oly, half-ironman.. there's even a super-sprint, which is 1/2 the distance of a sprint for the young ones and novices. I remember attending races back in the states and thinking how poorly organized they were and watching so many people get angry at race organizers for a variety of things, from lack of port-a-potties to on-course traffic to poorly marked courses. Those races are like a dream now, with loads of volunteers, support and organizers. There are two women here who organize all of the races, and they do everything. They put on the best race that they have to power to do, there's often only so much you can do here in the UAE. It kindof feels like your backyard triathlon. Each person fends for themselves. You need a toilet on the race course? There's a tree for that. Where exactly does the swim course go? Just follow those orange buoys (but not the far orange buoys, just the close ones). The run course yesterday had to be modified last second because it was in view of the Bahrain palace, or something like that. After awhile, you learn to expect random things like this, and have to just laugh about it.

In addition to the course logistics, we have had to contend with weather issues as well. The swim on the HIM course was cancelled this year due to fog (see earlier post). Apparently they shortened the same race last year due to wind. The olympic that Garren and I did yesterday was also battling a strong wind coming from the ocean. Will there be a race with perfect weather? But does that really exist anywhere? At least we can always rely on the sun, and no rain. There's a positive.

The Olympic race yesterday was interesting, to say the least. The swim course was marked with a bunch of orange buoys that are used to mark the channel for boats. Apparently, not all of the orange buoys were for the race, but we didn't learn that until after - when some people swam all of them, swimming much longer than those that actually counted 5 buoys and then turned right. Who counts buoys when they swim? Where was the kayak guy telling us to turn? The guy in the boat actually yelled at us when we turned, making some of us go to the last buoys, which weren't even part of the course. So swim times were all over the place. Faris, the pro I mentioned earlier, was beat out of the water by 10 minutes by some local guys. Is he starting to lose his touch, getting beat by age-grouper novices? No, he simply swam about 400 meters longer. He caught them quickly on the bike, but had a few utterances to say about the race that I really shouldn't repeat.

The bike was good, three loops - pretty difficult to get lost there. My average speed was the same as the HIM, because of the wind. I was hoping to go faster but there's only so much you can do in the wind. I didn't run, instead my physiotherapist ran for me. My ITB is still giving me problems and I haven't run since the HIM in January. I need to be more diligent about stretching and strengthening so it heals in time to train properly for France.

Next on the calendar? IM South Africa for Garren - less than one month away. I am looking forward to the trip, after his race we will stick around, do some safari, surfing and relaxing. :)

Je suis alle chez Paris, et vous?

International Teaching has its perks. As I am teaching International Baccelaureate (IB) courses, I am sent for training so that I am certified to do so. I went to my first training this summer in Lake Tahoe to learn all about Environmental Systems as it was the course I was hired to teach here in Dubai. When I arrived in Dubai, I learned that I would also be teaching IB Biology, which is a subject I am more familiar with and was happy to take on. To make me official, I had to attend another workshop, this time in Paris.

There were 7 teachers from my school that went for a variety of subjects. The workshop itself was only three days, but we were gone for 5. I can't say that I got much out of the workshop - it was mostly for new teachers to IB, and so much of what was said I already knew. However, I did pick up a few helpful tips and some email addresses to those who can help in the future.

The conference (and our accomodation) was at EuroDisney, which was a 30 min train ride from the city. EuroDisney, as well as other Disney parks, is a total rip-off. They have the luxury of charging you 28 Euro ($45) for dinner because you don't have a choice - there are no other options. Also, staying at a conference center, one would expect internet service, and while it may not be free, there's at least a way to connect in your hotel room. Not at EuroDisney! You had to purchase a 3 hour wireless access card for 10 Euro, which could only be used in the conference room or the lobby of the hotel. Ridiculous!

So, needless to say, the best part of the trip was of course, Paris itself. We hopped on the train (another 12 Euros) every chance we could to break free from the grip of Mickey and his money hungry friends. On the first day, we (Tracey, Christine and I) went straight for the Eiffel Tower. It was 15 Euros to take the elevator to the top, but we ended up paying only 7 Euros to climb the first two stories of the Tower, and took the elevator from there. Moral of the story: get in a little stair workout, save some money! Win-win! It was pretty surreal looking over Paris from atop the tower. I remember learning about Paris and the sights in high school French class, and you always see the Eiffel Tower in movies. It was brown. I thought it would be silvery or rust colored. But it was clearly painted brown. There were lots of young couples making out on the decks overlooking the city. Total cliche. Blech.

After taking lots of pictures (well, Chris did, me - not so much), we hiked back down and then began our aimless walking journey through the city, but first we stopped to have some crepes at a little stand by the metro station.

We ventured off to the Hotel des Invalides, where Napoleon is buried. We didn't see his actual tomb because it cost money, but this is the door:

From there we decided to walk to the Louvre. On the map it didn't look that far, but it ended up taking us about 1 hour to get there. We saw some cool things along the way, got snowed on, and eventually reached our destination - only to find that it closes at 5pm, and we arrived around 4pm. But, we discovered that is open on Weds and Fri nights from 6 to 9:30, and decided that was our mission for the following night.

After being on a plane all night, then spending the afternoon climbing stairs and walking around in the cold, we were tired so we hopped on the train back to EuroDisney. We checked in to our rooms, payed 25 Euros for a buffet dinner, then slept soundly for the night.

The conference started on Friday. People attending the Biology workshop were from all over Europe and the Middle East. Our instructor was English, currently teaching in Khazakstan. Nice.

We hopped the train into Paris as soon as the day was over and arrived at the Louvre around 7pm. That place is enormous. You really need several days to do it properly. Get the audio tour, take your time - there is so much to see. We had to rush a bit, got lost a few times (it's like a labryinth), but saw some really cool things. Here's a couple of my favorites...

We ate at a little French cafe after the Louvre. Croque Monsieur, wine, and a crepe with nutella and banana. French food is sooooo yummy. Ham is especially yummy when you have been living in a Muslim country and it isn't accesible.

Valentine's Day in Paris was anything but romantic. We decided to stay at EuroDisney for the evening because we didn't want to pay the extra cash to hop the train into the city. We were also pretty exhausted, and I was determined to find a way to get on the internet. So, Tracey, Chris and I went to McDonalds for dinner. Sweet, huh? There was nothing on the menu that wasn't fried and ridiculously overpriced. So we dined with the masses, mostly screaming kids and teenagers, and that drowned out our sorrows about being in Paris on Valentine's Day all alone....

The last day was good. Workshop ended nice and early. Our mission was to make it to Notre Dame and the Arc de Triomphe. First stop was Notre Dame. Tracey gave us a little history lesson about it and we were able to go inside and walk around. We were actually there during mass, which was pretty surreal.

From there, we hopped on the train and followed the big signs to the Grande Arche. One would think that the Grande Arche is indeed the same as the Arc de Triomphe, but as you can see, we discovered that they are not one in the same....

After taking some silly photos, we jumped back on the Metro and found our way to the correct Arch. The Arc, Champs-Elysee, it was all a memorable experience. We ended up walking down the Champs-Elysee hoping to do some shopping but it was Sunday night and most of the stores were closed, not that we could've afforded anything there anyways. We ended up stopping along the way for dinner and wine at another cafe. Good times.

Take One

Victory!!!!

1/2 Ironman (mostly)

As you may already know, I have signed up to do Ironman France in June. I am really excited about doing my first Ironman, and believe it or not, I am excited about the training too. My friend Rebecca has signed up with me, and Garren will also race. I hadn't really started training for that event yet, as I had been focusing on the marathon for the last 5-6 months. We saw a local 1/2 Ironman on the calendar, and thought, heck, why not? So Rebecca and I signed up, paid our 400 dirhams, and mentally prepared ourselves for a morning of "training." We've spent practically no time on our bikes since the beginning of December, and are still technically recovering from the marathon on the 16th. We have, however, been spending some quality time in the pool.


Anyways... it's funny how things are all just a matter of perspective. Tell me one year ago to jump in a race of this distance with no training and I'd laugh in your face. This year - bring it on!


Rebecca and I drove separately to the race from Garren - he had his game face on, we were just there for the fun of it (those pre-race preparations don't mix well). Both Rebecca and I were apprehensive about the swim; there's something about swimming in a race that makes me sick to my stomach. Not really much to get excited about. It was going to be cold. It was going to be a long swim. However, luck was on our side. The fog was thick along the coast as we headed to the race site, at times we couldn't see 15ft in front of the car. Upon our arrival, we saw that the swim course was equally socked in with fog. You couldn't even see the buoys at the start, let alone along the course. They had to postpone the race, with the hopes that the fog would eventually lift. One hour later they decided to cancel the swim, and replace it with a 5k run. The rest of the race would continue on as planned. I was looking forward to the swim, only because I want to test out my wetsuit, and I need more open water experience. But I have to say, I was thrilled they cancelled the swim. I get so nervous before swimming in a race, regardless of the distance or my state of mind. It's something I need to deal with...someday. Rebecca and I were so happy - at that point ther race became not a question of "Can we do it?" but "How much, how far - let's go!"

The 5k was a leisurely stroll for us. We ran together and laughed most of the way. It was a good warm-up for the bike. Garren on the other hand, was greatly disappointed that the swim was cut - he's a great swimmer, so removing the swim takes away his advantage. So what does he do? Sprints the first 5k of course!

I surprised myself on the bike. I had a lot of energy when I first got on the bike and headed out the first 3-5k at 35 kph, well ahead of my typical pace. I eventually eased into a 30 kph pace, which I managed to keep for the rest of the bike leg. The bike consisted of 7 lapts for a total of about 90km. I don't think I've ever raced at 30kph, even in my shorter races, so I was really happy with my bike split.

The run was good as well. I didn't feel the need to push - I wasn't racing afterall, just out having fun. So I cruised the 1/2 marathon, chatted with people, cheered others on, had a good time. Our friend Kevin was discussing the mindset regarding a marathon at the end of an Ironman and how different it is than an open marathon. I completely understand now. Once you get to the run leg in a triathlon, that's all you have left. So you just think, only a marathon to go, that's not so bad (after swimming almost 4k and biking 180k). I felt the same with this 1/2 marathon - no big deal, I'm almost done...

My run split was just over 2 hours. It felt leisurely, but it did start to hurt a bit at the end. Once I crossed the finish line I was a bit delirious. I wanted to vomit (just like after the marathon) and needed to lie down. I can now say that this reaction was a direct result of dehydration, but I didn't know it at the time.

Garren found me lying on a concrete wall next to the water. I think it took me about 10 minutes to get there I was walking so slowly and was pretty out of it. I missed Rebecca finish because of my state of delirium. Won't do that again, no matter what.

Anyways, Garren, after his speedy 5k, took third overall, second in his age group. He did a great job, as always, and I am proud of him. I am getting excited to watch him race in South Africa in April. I ended up getting third overall too (he and I have seemed to match in our results this year - is that cute or freaky??) and Rebecca was right behind me in fourth. Sweet!

Unfortunately, my ITB swelled up later that night on the outside of my left knee, and I haven't been able to run since. Trying to nurse it back to health and I am dying to get out and get running. Cycling and swimming have been good for it, but I am getting concerned about the ITB - it's now been a month since the race and it has only slightly improved... I hope it gets better soon. Until next time!

Dubai Marathon

So, I've been a little busy. Not a good excuse for not posting, but it's true. Since we started back up at school in January, things have been nonstop. Weekends? What are those? Mine have been filled with school or races. But it's all good. I like being busy, remember?

Let's see.... I guess I'll start with my first marathon ever.... January 16th, 2009. Dubai, UAE - the richest race on the planet. Men and women were both awarded 250,000 USD for 1st place, and if a man could break the world record (currently at 2:03:59 - can you say FAST?), he would earn himself an additional 1 million dollars. Not bad, eh? Current record holder and winner of the last Dubai Marathon, Haile Gebrselassie, made his return to Dubai for the race but I don't think many others were planning on beating him. They flew in lots of pacesetters to keep him on track, but ultimately the rain slowed him down and he finished with a 2:05:29. Still not bad.

I stayed dry. Wasn't fast enough to hit the rain, which I am thankful for. When I originally tossed the idea around of running a marathon, I wanted to run it in 8 min/mile (5 min/km) pace (which would be a finish time of 3:30). Once I started training I realized that this may be a bit too ambitious, especially with the heat and humidity I faced during the first several months of training in Dubai. My heart rate was not low enough to sustain that pace for 26.2 miles. I was a bit disappointed in that, but as race day grew nearer, I refocused my goal and set my race plan at 5:15 min/km, which is just under 8:30 pace.

I ran the first 10km exactly on target, and then Garren jumped in the race to keep me company and keep me on track. The next 10km went well too, and I felt really good at the halfway mark, still keeping pace. Every km was marked and I was just sitting back waiting for the last 10km to start to push the pace. However, I quickly learned that what my mind wants and what my body can do are two entirely different things. Before the race, I talked with a few marathon veterans, all of which told me that it was the last 10km that hurt. "20 miles of hope, 6 miles of reality." Now that I've done it, I can verify that this is indeed the case. That last 10km seemed to drag on forever. My body was done. I hurt. I couldn't think. I wanted to vomit. It was all I could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other. My pace slowed considerably. Garren kept talking to me, trying to get me to push, but I couldn't go any faster, I couldn't find my way out of the "pain cave." It's a dark and foul place. I could only muster a grunt in response to his encouragement. But I was, and still am so grateful that he was there by my side. He really did make a big difference, even though I shot death stares at him and cursed him under my breath for the entire last 5km of the race.

But the good news is that I did eventually reach the finish line. Finish time: 3:44:48. I'm happy with my time, seeing as it was my first marathon. And I am definitely hooked - will do another one again in the near future (Ironman doesn't count). Will probably do Dubai again next year, even though the course was uninspiring and there wasn't any good fuel along the route. Regardless, I do aim to bring that time down below a 3:30.... someday....

As far as recovery went, I hobbled around for a couple of days. The big breakthrough came when I went to the pool two days after and did some deep water running and swimming. I felt like new again, and have rediscovered the value of deep water running (for all you skeptics i.e. SHHS girls tracksters - never doubt me. :)

Happy zzzz New Year (yawn)

Garren and I had good intentions for this New Year's Eve celebration. We have been planning to drive to Liwa, the empty quarter of the UAE to camp in the middle of the desert among the orange-red dunes. It was a nice contradiction to last year, when we were freezing in a fire tower in the middle of Mt Hood National Forest.

However, our plans changed.... while we slept.

We arrived back at my apartment at 2:00am, unloaded our bags and headed out for some shwarma. Mmmmm. Garren passed out soon after that, and I was up until 6am. The next thing I remember is Garren waking me up and asking what time it was. I looked at my phone. 4:00. PM!!!! What to do? Go back to sleep, of course! We woke up the second time at 7:00pm and proceeded to make plans for the evening - Liwa was out of the picture at this point - too far away, too much work.

So I made some phone calls and we come to find out that all NYE celebrations in Dubai are cancelled by the Sheikh! Yep, apparently you can cancel NYE if you are a Sheikh. His reason is understandable, to show solidarity for the Arabs under attack in Palestine. So all hotel bars and restaurants, that had been planning this night for months, and were poised to make millions of dollars, had to cancel their festivities and shut down for the evening. Those who had tickets were given refunds or vouchers to use at a later date.

There was one place open - the good ol' Irish Village. They had originally planned for live music, fireworks and a buffet. The buffet was the only one left standing. So Garren and I headed out there to meet some friends around 9:30pm, had a few drinks, ate some food (which was really good for a free buffet) and waited around for the change of the New Year. I think there was a little hooting and hollering at midnight - but certainly no countdown. A little weird to be surrounded by so many people and have the New Year come in so quietly.

The Village cleared out pretty quickly after that. Of course we had just gotten up so we were wide awake and wanting to stay out later - but there was nowhere to go, everything was shut down. So sad. The one evening that we actually go out and have energy to stay up past midnight (I know I sound like a lame old duck), there is nothing to do. Oh well, guess I'll try to sleep and get back on UAE time. Happy New Year!