Rhode Island 70.3 Race Report

The short report: PR by over 45 minutes with a total time of 5:23.50!

Long report:

Pre-race: Pretty uneventful. I was a little worried about signing up for this race because it was pretty brutal the year before with the point-to-point nature of the course and the logistics involved with that. Long lines, mandatory bike check-in in Narraganssett and early buses to the start line. There was none of that this year which was refreshing.

Race morning, I awoke at 3:30 to look out the window and see rain and flags flapping wildly in the breeze. It had been beautiful the day before so I was a bit disheartened as I was looking forward to good conditions. The rain did eventually stop before the race started but the breeze did not. Race directors delayed the start in hopes that the water conditions would improve but no such luck and we were given the opportunity to opt out and complete a duathlon because of the poor conditions. I have to admit, I was a little tempted but knew I could never live with myself if I had. That said, you can see how excited I was to enter an angry sea:



Swim conditions (picture doesn't really do it justice):



Swim time: 38:57

My wave was called and a little more than 100 of us lined up on the shore, watching the waves pound into the shore and watching the men in white caps go off in front of us. After about a minute, one of those white caps made it to the first buoy, then turned around and headed right back into shore....race over in 2 minutes. Let me tell you how encouraging that was!

The canon sounded before I knew it and we were off. I am not even joking when I say that I was laughing for about 10 minutes. I was pretty much just bobbing around and trying to see any buoy. Every time I would site I would get a face full of water and any time I was actually able to see a buoy, I was either so far to the left or so far to the right of it, I wasn't quite sure where I was. I was breathing to the right for the most part and at some point I realized that it was much easier to not eat salt by breathing to the left and that change sped me up quite a bit. After that, I don’t remember much more than just trying to find the shore. This wasn’t a swim – it was survival. It got better once we rounded the red turn buoy and headed the other direction but at that point, I knew couldn't count on my swim time to be a good one no matter how fast I sailed into the shore. I knew the first half had been pretty bad.

My watch read 37:30 for the swim when I exited the water but the official result is longer since we had to run a few hundred yards through sand before reaching the timing mat. Transition was quick for me as my bike was the first on the rack and was easy to spot. My race plan was to take 3 units of Humalog (fast acting insulin) but I had a gut feeling that was too much so I took 2 instead. I didn’t test my blood sugar as I didn’t want to waste too much time in transition. I stuffed my wetsuit in a bag (since this was a point to point race, we had to have everything we wanted transported to the finish packed up in a bag), threw my helmet on, grabbed my nutrition and off I went.


(Check out the flag in the background....)


Bike split: 2:48:18 (20mph).

The first 10k of the bike was fast with the wind at our backs and the next 15 or so miles were a mixed bag of head and cross winds. Around mile 20, right before the hills started, the pad on top of my right aero bar came loose. I was futzing around with it trying to keep it on for a good 5 minutes, wasting time and royally botching my gearing before a big climb until I realized it was best just to let it go. Unfortunately for my elbow/forearm, I had the pleasure of leaning on a metal screw for a large portion of the race which was unpleasant, epspecially during the last 6 miles of the course which went through a war zone of sorts. The middle of the course was filled with long, steady climbs and as previously mentioned, the last 6 or so miles were pretty brutal – several hairpin turns, sketchy descents narrowing to a single lane with no passing room due to cones and traffic directly to the left, pissed off Rhode Island drivers, potholes and railroad tracks. Not being a great technical rider, it was frustrating to watch my average speed plummet these last 6 miles. I took it easy here and coasted into transition as I didn't have much of an option.

I hadn’t been able to eat too much on the bike (2 Gu’s and 1 Gatorade total) as I could tell my blood sugar was on the higher side until about the half way point but could feel that it was dropping and I knew I was in the perfect place to start the run. I tested my blood sugar in T2. 106. Perfect! I felt much better knowing my levels and I started onto the run course.

Run split: (1:52:21) 8:34/mile

I started off on the run and my legs felt pretty decent. Mile one split showed a pace of 7.35. Then I hit College hill. Here is the BOTTOM of college hill.




I knew it was coming, after all I did run this course last year and I had been running hills in all my bricks to prepare for it, but that didn’t change the fact that it still sucked. A lot. About half way up it I heard someone yell “Go Wisconsin!” and I was a little confused -- how many people from Wisconsin would be running a race in Rhode Island besides me? I turned my head to the side to see that it was a woman I had met at Patriot earlier this year - it was a nice boost to have a familiar face cheering at that particular painful moment. I managed to make it up the entire hill without walking, passing several people in the process and the next 2 or 3 miles went by pretty quickly. I was still feeling pretty decent and was managing a respectable pace. I saw my friend, Jen, at some point who cheered and again, I got a lift from it. Mile 6 brought us down College hill and towards the turn-around. I saw Dave cheering and it kept me running when all I really wanted to do was stop at this point as my stomach was starting to turn and it was getting really hot out. I think it shows in this picture.



The second trip up college hill was brutal. I ran it more than I walked it but my will was falling away until I looked at my watch and realized I was about to have the race of my life and all I had to do was gut it out for 6 more miles. I closed my eyes and made myself experience the hurt, remembering the motto coach (who was also racing) had termed for this race: RUN EVIL! I put one foot in front of the other and tried to remember to eat a Gu here and there to keep my blood sugars up. I allowed myself to walk the water stops as it was getting hot out and I really needed to get the water in my system rather than spill it all over myself which I tend to do when I try to run and drink at the same time.

Around mile 10 my right knee started locking up – the kind of locking up where you feel like you’re going to fall over. Right at that point, a guy behind me came up and told me that my cadence was amazing, that I had a great ass (his words, not mine) and that he didn’t want to pass me because he’d been enjoying the view. While normally something like this would likely make me want to run for the hills, at mile 60 in a half Ironman when your knee is locking up, any kind of distraction, perverse or not, is better than focusing on pain. I laughed, thanked him and kept battling on. Mile 11 was, by far, the hardest for me and my split of 11.20 shows it. I was afraid my knee was going to give and I had to stop and shake it out a few times, knowing that the trek down college hill was about to come. But surprisingly, the descent didn’t seem to bother the knee too much once I got there and I was able to finish strong up the incline to the Capital and the finish.

I tested my blood sugar at the finish and again, it was a perfect 109. I have no doubt that FINALLY having a race where I absolutely nailed my blood sugar levels allowed me to perform like I know I am capable of.

Special thanks to my wonderful fiancé, Dave, who did everything and more to make sure I had a great race (including waking up at 3:30 am with me, packing the hotel in Narragansett as I rode my bike, making it back to Providence to cheer me on the run, lugging my after-race stuff all over the place and then waiting around until 3:30 in the afternoon with me to find out if I got a Clearwater slot…which I didn’t).

Next up: Timberman 70.3 in August. And then a wedding!

On not giving up

A sequence of two small occurrences this weekend caused me to reflect upon my life as it has played out over the last few years, the difficulties that seem so distant now and how truly blessed I am to be where I am in my life right now.

I was rushing around on Sunday morning, trying to avoid being late for a swim lesson and I threw on the first clean t-shirt I could find in my drawer, which happened to be a Grandma’s Marathon t-shirt. When I got home and changed out of my clothes I noticed the date – June 19, 2007. I made a bit of a mental note about it – my first marathon was run only two years ago. It felt like so much longer than that.

About an hour later, I picked up my August Edition of Living Without magazine and read an interview with Elisabeth Haselbeck . During the interview she talks about her struggles coming to a diagnosis with celiac disease. She mentions how prior to her diagnosis, she would get up at 5:00 a.m. to get a run in. She knew that the moment she put food in her mouth later in the day, a run would be impossible because of the debilitating pain she experienced after eating.

That article brought back so many (painful) memories and along with the recognition of my first, ever, endurance event having been two years prior, I realized something: I have come a long way. Since June 19, 2007, I have:

(obviously) run a marathon;
learned how to swim;
learned how to ride a bike (for real);
finished too many shorter triathlons and running races to mention;
and, saving the best for last, finished an Ironman.

Now all that all seems fine and dandy on the surface but what isn’t obvious is what I went through to accomplish those things. Since June 19, 2007 I have also:

spent over a year in physical therapy rehabbing tendonitis that would not heal;
finished 90% of my training for that first marathon in a pool (yes, with a belt “running” underwater, staring at a wall for hours on end) as the tendon and calf injuries kept me off the roads;
experienced three femoral shaft stress fractures;
spent numerous hours crawled up in a ball with escalating stomach pain that only puzzled my doctors;
and again, saving the best for last, I have been diagnosed with celiac disease.

I have come a long way since that diagnosis.

This week I:
Ran 44 miles;
Biked 180 miles;
and, saving the worst for last, swam 6000 yards (I know coach, I love swimming).

Two years ago, I’m not sure if even ¼ of that would have been possible. But you know what? I don’t have pain before, during or after these things. I feel better than I ever have.

In the interview with Elisabeth, she mentions how when she tells people about her celiac disease diagnosis that they more often than not react with doom and gloom but that how for most of us with celiac, being diagnosed is a positive thing. I couldn’t agree more with Elisabeth. A diagnosis means we’re not crazy – that there is a reason for our pain. After having suffered for years and being told that there’s nothing can be done about the pain and then hearing that the truth is that it can be resolved by simply eliminating a few things from my diet was like music to my ears!

Something that came up a lot at the DESA conference last weekend was how having Diabetes was a positive thing for most of us living with it as it forces us to be fully aware of our bodies and how because of that, it has changed the way we look at life for the better. I think the same can be said for celiac disease. I am more self aware and, truth be told, am likely healthier because of it (as a side benefit from not eating overly processed foods). Everyone has to deal with some sort of challenge in their life. I am thankful that I have been dealt with challenges that I can manage. I control diabetes and I control celiac disease, it does not control me.

My first A race of the season is this weekend, Rhode Island 70.3. I have high hopes for this race but as I sit here going mad from taper, analyzing my race strategies and focusing on my goals, I realize that even if I don’t hit my time goals for this race, it doesn’t matter because as cheesy as it sounds, I’ve already won. I am sitting here going mad from taper and I am healthy. And I am so thankful I didn’t give up when the going got tough.

Weekend Grade: A+!

This weekend started with a bang at the DESA (Diabetes Exercise and Sports Association) annual North American Conference here in Boston. I had been stressing about it for a long time as I was asked to give a presentation, along with Jeff Godin, on diabetes and triathlon. I am not the world’s best public speaker and not knowing exactly how many would be in the audience, I was pretty nervous about the whole thing. But when the time came to deliver, I was fine and the presentation went quite well. Jeff gave a great, scientific view of a typical training program and I gave my experiences following such a program as a type 1 diabetic. A lot of good questions came from the audience and I really enjoyed myself. I have had to learn a lot of these lessons on my own and the possibility that sharing the lessons and experiences could help someone else avoid some of the difficulties I have faced was pretty exciting.

And even more exciting, I finally got to meet Phil Southerland, co-founder of Team Type 1. I have been a HUGE fan of Team Type 1’s for a long time now as I feel that no other group out there has done more for diabetic athletes than Team Type 1 has. And now that TT1 has set the world record and won the Race Across America yet again, they’re drawing more attention to themselves which is really exciting. It was pretty cool for me to meet someone I look up to like that.

Lastly, SWAG! I decided to race the Holliston Lion’s Sprint tri on Sunday. I went into the race tired, but feeling inspired having heard some awesome diabetic athletes speak on Saturday. Apparently that paid off as I came home with a 2nd in Age Group award. And not to split hairs but it should have been 1st in Age Group as the winner (of the entire race…she beat all the men too) was in my age group and the race directors gave her both the overall and the 1st in Age Group awards (totally lame and bogus, FIRM race directors). Short report: Most brutal swim ever, seriously. All the women started in the same wave (??), the course was an out and back and I was swum over by a dude in the 1st wave, coming the other direction and swimming off course, crossing the line. I was pretty beat up by the time I left the swim. I also managed to miss the timing mat and had to run back to cross over it again. Frustrating. Bike: My legs kind of escaped me but I still managed a decent pace. What else can you say about a 15 mile bike - it goes by pretty fast. Run: 5 miles and hillier than I was expecting. Let me tell you, those extra 2 miles in a sprint are painful. And to add insult to injury, my blood sugar went way high (I think the swim stress made it shoot up) so I started to cramp. Not my finest run but again, a decent pace.




















Then I took Monday off of work to do a 60/7 race pace brick. I must have used up all of my good luck over the weekend as it poured on me the entire 62 mile ride. I was so tired and uninspired that the only inspiration keeping me going was the thought of my iPod on the run. Then as I threw my bike in the car and got ready for the run, the clouds disappeared, the sun came out, the humidity rose to 11100007897%.....and then my iPod died. GLORIOUS! Longest run of my life.

But that’s okay. A tough Monday is a fair trade for an awesome weekend!

I would be better off in a plastic bubble

I am a walking disaster right now. There are approximately 20 cuts on my left leg, my left knee, left elbow and left shoulder are all bruised up and I have hickey looking things on both sides of my neck from where I chafed from trying out some new things trying to improve my swim form yesterday (somehow I doubt additional chafing = more speed). All this occurred over the course of 2 days. I need help.

I had the opportunity to watch John race the Patriot half here in MA. Speaking of, John Hirsch is a total bad ass. He walked away with a 2nd place finish by a few hundred yards (which he was a bit bummed about…who wouldn’t be). From the moment the gun went off, John took off looking like he wanted to bite the heads off of anyone who got in his way. Total focus. It was pretty cool to watch – I’ve never really had a chance to really watch the front end of a race before. I got a better appreciation for what it takes to be good watching John - it was inspiring.

Picture of John on the podium:


















So I managed to leave the race pretty unscathed, short of a giant bloody gash on my thigh I received from walking through some thorns. Spectating is dangerous sometimes. But then came Sunday.

Sunday was a race simulator. 65 miles on the bike, 5 miles running – mostly at race pace. Unfortunately for me, it was pouring out. 65 miles at race pace in the rain vs. 65 miles on a trainer is a tough decision. In the end, the possibility of a lull in the clouds (which didn’t end up happening) won and I headed to Dover bright and early in the morning.

On the bike I went. It was windy. It was wet. I was cold. I rode hills. Lots of hills. To give you an idea, the last 27 miles were comprised of doing this 9 mile loop 3 times.









For four hours all I thought was, “just keep pedaling.” Seriously, aside from looking down and noticing that my handlebar end had fallen off at some point and I had a giant bruise now donning my left knee from banging into metal every time I stood up, that’s all that went through my head – Keep heart rate up and keep pedaling. Finally it came time to dismount and I headed towards the car which was parked in the middle of a baseball field parking lot. A gravel parking lot. A wet gravel parking lot. I should have stopped pedaling. Instead, in my haste trying to make this a quick, race-like transition to the run, I wiped out on the gravel and landed on my shoulder/elbow/hip, still attached to the bike.

Awesome, I thought. Let’s just make this a totally epic weekend . I yanked my feet out of the clips (which is no easy task when you’re laying on the ground ), put the bike, which had thankfully survived the tipover, into the car, threw on my running shoes and decided that I would run up Pegan Lane. Seriously, can you think of a better name for a dead-end road that travels straight uphill at over 10% grades for more than a half a mile? I can’t. And running up it seemed like the thing to do at that point, so that’s what I did. And much to my surprise, I nailed the run. Like really, really nailed the run, hill and all. Run profile:









I have to admit, it felt really good to nail that run after such a mentally tough bike ride. I felt pretty happy with myself driving home. I didn’t really realized until Monday that my shoulder/elbow/hip weren’t too happy with the gravel slippage.

So on Saturday I will be giving a presentation where I will speak highly of triathlon and the benefits it affords me as a diabetic. Anyone want to come punch me a few times? Maybe break my arms? Poke me in the eye a few times? I really want this presentation to be convincing.

Note to self: Buy plastic bubble before conference.

The week that didn’t kill me

After Mooseman last Saturday, this is how my week went:

Sunday: Hang out with friends in New Hampshire and watch the half iron. Travel home.
Monday: Catch up on backed up work. Pretend I’m not getting sick.
Tuesday: Swim 3000 yards and pretend I am not getting sick. This is not a good combination. Work. Bike 45 miles. Stop pretending I’m not sick.
Wednesday: Pretend that being sick feels good. Work. Run 14 miles.
Thursday: Bag my swim trying to fight the cold. Work.
Friday: Feeling a little better. Swim 3000 yards. Stop feeling a little better. Swimming that day probably wasn’t the greatest idea I’ve ever had. Work.
Saturday: Ride 80 miles. Fresh air seems to help.
Sunday: Wake up at 5:00 to do Olympic distance tri in the rain.
Monday: Thank the baby Jesus that I finally have a rest day.

Things to note:
1) It became very apparent where my priorities lie during all of this. I would rather be miserable and running than be less miserable sitting on a couch. I really do love triathlon.

2) My legs hurt.

3) I rode 40 of the 80 miles on Saturday with fellow type 1 triathlete, Ed. Ed is fast. We need to find him a flat time trial – stat. Trying to keep up with him on the flats was not an easy task -- coach would not have been happy with my heart rate zone the first 40 miles. Even so, the time flew by. It was great to talk bolus and blood sugar for 2 hours. Nobody gets a diabetic like a diabetic.

4) I had my first, ever DECENT (not good, mind you, but decent) swim in the Oly and that was my only goal for this triathlon. In fact, I was 5th in my age group overall, 4th on the swim, 3rd on the bike (what?? After 80 miles the day before??) and 5th on the run. I bring that up only because it’s notable that I did better overall on the swim than I did on the run. That’s rare. I still freaked out and had to stop once after a fast and physical start but I think that’s good because after telling this to my coach, he had some inspiring words for me which I know will stick with me in the next race…something along the lines of “You’d never stop during the run when you were hurting, so why the hell would you stop during the swim, dumb ass?” You have to admit, he has a point.

5) My blood sugars were right on for this race. Dead on. I think I have the Oly distance blood sugar pattern nailed. Now I just hope that pattern doesn’t require a ton of tweaking for the half iron distance because my plan is to stick to the same regimen and see how it goes. The major point of that plan has been to eliminate as many inconsistent variables in the blood sugar equation as possible. For example, in the past I have lowered my long acting insulin a unit or two for a race. I have had some high numbers during races so why would I want to do that? This might come back to bite me for the longer distance race but even so, I’d rather have to fuel a little bit more than not be able to fuel at all because of high blood sugars and that’s what happened at Mooseman. So now I leave my long acting the same, all the time, and that way it’s always a constant. I’ve also stopped drinking Gatorade (instead I use water with Nuun electrolyte tablets) as I find that I never drink the same amount and therefore, it's just another variable that is difficult for me to control. By sticking to Gu packets, about 1 every 45 minutes on the bike and 1 every 30 minutes on the run, I am effectively getting the same amount of carbs every time and it makes balancing the equation easier. Lucky for me, my stomach tolerates the Gu without issue.

Lastly, pictures!

Mooseman: Note the dejected "I STILL SUCK AT SWIMMING!" look on my face.





















Mooseman: 6.2 miles of stumpy feeling legs.





















Ashland: Nothing like dismounting the bike in a mud pit.

















In 10 seconds I will be done! In 10 seconds I will be done! (I think I repeated this for about 2 hours and 50 minutes).

Mooseman Olympic Distance Tri – Race Report

The shortened version: Piss poor swim (as per usual), awesome bike split and mediocre run.



The details:

We drove up to the race site around noon on Friday. We are fortunate enough to have some friends who offer up their cabin to us every year for this race – the cabin is right at the end of the half way turn around point of the run, so it’s perfect for us. Unpacked the car, went for a quick bike/run, picked up our race packets, came home and chilled out, going to bed around 8:30. I had a terrible week of sleep the week before-hand, probably averaging about 4 hours of sleep a night and it wasn’t much different that evening. I had some problems with low blood sugars and between race nerves and the sugar, I didn’t get much sleep.

I was up at 4:30 race morning as I couldn't sleep. I ate, emptied my tummy and drove to the race site. My sugars were a little bit high, hovering around 200. I wasn’t as nervous as I usually am, so they didn’t skyrocket like they usually do so I took less insulin than I normally would before a triathlon start. One last test before they closed transition revealed a blood sugar of 184 and I decided to leave it that way. I also decided that I wouldn’t be testing my blood sugar during transition unless I felt really off. Testing soaks up at least a minute in transition and that would be a big difference in a race of this length.

Dave and I headed down to the water and got almost all the way there when I realized that I’d forgotten my chip so I ran back to transition and back again, narrowly missing Dave’s wave start. I was starting 16 minutes behind Dave so I got in the water to test it out. This was a mistake. The sign on the park said the water was 60 degrees before the race. I don’t know if they measured on the shore or what, but that water was not 60 degrees. I would guess more like 57. It was freezing and my Reynaud’s was not happy with it. My fingers were purple/white at the race start and I was very uncomfortable.

My wave was called and my friend Jen and I lined up next to each other, chatting to keep our minds off what was to come. Jen is a super speedy swimmer and I had no business lining up with her but it was nice to have someone to talk to. The gun went off and off Jen went. Immediately, I freaked out and had to control my brain. I couldn’t breathe, the water hurt, I was getting run over and the negative thoughts were abundant. I stopped for a second to try to get a breath and calm myself down but got trampled which made matters worse so I stuck my face back in the water, dug deep and just moved. I wasn’t swimming hard but I still couldn’t breathe and bilateral breathing went right out the window. I was sighting okay and swimming a straight line but I was putting way too much effort to move forward. By the time the third buoy came, I found a rhythm and the swim became tolerable. But the second we turned the half way point and headed towards the shore, a very large woman decided to swim over me and then over me again and back over me about a thousand times. She was zigzagging so much and no matter how hard I tried to get away from her, I couldn’t. It was really frustrating.

I exited the water in a little less than 33 minutes and immediately felt deflated. I have worked so hard on my swimming this year and I still sucked. Ugg! Still thinking about the awful swim, I saw my bike rack, ran down it and was greeted with a freaking bush that blocked my way. How had I not noticed that before the race? I had to run back down the row and go all the way around the next row to get to my bike. Ugg #2! But the second I threw on my helmet, the ugg’s went out the window. Now it was time to work and I was all business.

I mounted the bike and off I went. I wasn’t feeling great but I wasn’t feeling terrible. My toes were still numb from the swim and wouldn't warm up for the entire ride (it took about 2 miles of running to warm them up). After the 2nd mile, we were greeted with the first set of rollers and I started picking people off on them. I probably passed 60 or so people during the first set of hills. A girl in my age group and I exchanged the lead about 5 times after the road flattened out and I was getting a little bit annoyed with that so I decided to let her have it – I’d wait until Devil’s hill to pass her at mile 7. And pass her I did, and about 100 other people. I remember that hill hurting a lot last year but this year it felt a lot easier this year. There were so many people grinding up it and even a few walking it. I just popped it into my easy gear and floated up with no problem. This continued throughout the bike course. I felt pretty good the whole time and I knew I was having a good bike split as I was only passed once and I was passing a ton of men towards the end.

The end of the bike course came up quicker than I’d expected and I remembered that I needed to take my feet out of my shoes. This was my first race doing this and I was a little paranoid about getting out of the new triathlon-specific shoes without falling over. But I managed and I had a quick and easy transition. It was great.
My stomach wasn’t feeling great at this point and I had a feeling my sugar was a bit off but I decided to push on without testing. I grabbed a few Gu packets, threw on my shoes and visor and I was off.

My legs were pretty much pissed from the moment I asked them to run. My quads hurt, my hips hurt, my ankles hurt and they just didn’t respond when I tried to push the pace. They had felt this way during my runs earlier in the week as well. I don’t think they had come around fully after the half marathon PR two weekends before (but that’s ok, the PR was totally worth it!). After mile 2 came and we started going uphill, I pretty much wanted to crawl into a ball and cry. It was very difficult to keep pushing myself. But right before the turnaround, I saw Dave (who had started a few waves ahead of me) and my friend, Jen who yelled “uh oh, she’s gaining on me!” and I found a little motivation. I knew I probably wouldn’t catch Jen but it gave me something to chase. The final three miles were pretty much a blur. I was fairly certain that my sugar was high so I couldn’t eat anything (and I’d only eaten two Gu’s at this point) so I was low on fuel but I kept telling myself that if I could just knock off 8 minute miles, I would be done in 24 minutes. I can do anything for 24 minutes! And I passed Dave with about 2 miles to go who yelled "You look hot!" which totally made me laugh and lightened my mood. Thanks, Dave. :)

We turned the corner to the finish line (the race directors had talked about a new finish line) and were greeted with about 100 yards of freaking sand to run through. Ugg! That was no fun. But I could see the chute coming up and I pushed on. A girl in my age group was apparently behind me and sprinted ahead of me about 2 feet before the line. I was a little frustrated about that but I guess that’s what makes a race a race. I’ll get her next time!

I tested my blood sugar after I was able to get back into transition and it came in at 240. I was right – my sugar was high and that likely affected the run a bit. I think I will take a little more insulin before the swim next time, assuming that I will have a bit of an adrenaline spike during the swim. I’m sure that’s what happened here.

After the race, I ran into Ed and Kim, two triathletes I’ve gotten to know through the blog world – it was nice to finally meet them face to face. Ed is also diabetic and had his first race where diabetes wasn’t a factor. Score one for the endocrine challenged! It’s always nice to chat about diabetes and racing with someone who understands the challenges we face. I’m sure it’s not all that interesting to those of us who don’t deal with it on a daily basis!

In conclusion, this was an ok race for me and a decent way to kick off the season. What I learned from it is that I have lot of work to do on the swim. I NEED to learn how to swim in the open water setting. If anyone has any suggestions on how to accomplish this, by all means please let me know! I’m stumped and I’m frustrated with it. I also learned that there is some tweaking needed to my insulin levels pre-race. I have a plan for the next race and have it written down so I’ll remember.

Run to Remember Progression in Pictures

I feel great. This day is perfect. This race is awesome. I know what I have to do and I'm totally going to nail this race.























Wow, it's a lot hotter out here than they said it was going to be. I don't feel as good as I did before but that's okay - I can still do this.






















Good lord, this hurts! Whose idea was this anyway? It must not have been mine. I would never do this to myself. Either that or I had to sneeze.























Please make it stop! If I close my eyes and pump my arms, will I wake up in Kansas?