I'm ready! The car is loaded - bike rack is on complete with bike - the cargo carrier is on top of the car and loaded with everything from suitcases to our big red wagon.
Yes, we are taking the wagon... hey who wants to carry 2 tired kids to the finish line late at night when they are tired. I don't want anyone having to miss the finish so we are loading the kids up in their pjs with their blankets and letting them chill until I get to the finish line.
I've got everything I think I might need and some things I probably won't need at all. Sunday is going to be amazing - Ironman Louisville 2008 will be a day to remember for me.
My goals for the weekend are to 1) enjoy every moment, 2) relax, 3) spread the word about The Smile Train, 4) look extra cute in my Skirts and pass out lots and lots of my SkirtSports.com Discount Code (REBECCAW if you didn't know), and 5) FINISH my first Ironman.
I've had lots of people ask me if I'm going to win... these are the folks that are still learning what this whole triathlon thing is all about. Nope - no winning here and not even a top 10 (or 100) finish for that matter. My goal is completion.
It would be nice if I said I truly didn't care what time I finish in but, of course, I do. I would really like to finish in under 15hours and think that is very realistic. However, based on my half Ironman race from May I would really like to finish with a time around 13hours and I think that could be possible too. Since I've never done this distance I don't want to set myself up for disappointment so I'm going to take this race as I did my first half IM race - my heart rate will be my guide and I'll let my body tell me how it's doing.
During the run I'll be praying for someone on each mile. I'm making a little "cue sheet" of who I'm going to pray for on the run so I don't forget anyone. Please do me the favor of praying for me as well.
Again - thank you to everyone who has supported me this year and who has shown their support for The Smile Train. We are Turning Miles into Smiles and will continue to do so for the years ahead.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
My worries... they're nothing in comparison!
Now that I'm aware of John's issue with his tonsils it's on my mind all the time. He now weighs just over 27lbs at 3yr 3mo old. That's how big Polly was when she was 2... It's so sad b/c he just burns so many calories trying to breath at night and has a hard time eating b/c he can't swallow too much food. Only 10 more days until his surgery so I couldn't be happier to see those tonsils go.
I think he is going to be a whole new child in his eating and sleeping habits and hopefully he'll start to gain some weight.
I think the most exciting part for me with all of this is knowing that my kids will be there at the finish line watching me. They totally won't understand what they are watching but some day, they'll have an "ah ha" moment and realize what this meant to me. It's going to be an amazing day full of determination - hope - and completion through out the day.
The completion won't just happen at the finish line, I'll be completing things all day long. Completing the swim, completing the first loop of the bike, even just completing a big hill. But ultimately I'll be completing my first year of Turning Miles into Smiles.
This past year we raised $23,400+ dollars for The Smile Train. We can NOT forget why I did this. There are children whose parents have lost all hope. I think I'm sad b/c John has issues with his tonsils! These parents have given up hope for their child ever living a normal life. They don't have the options we have to just fix it.
The Smile Train makes sure that these children are healed and in healing them their families and communities are touched. While my race will be long, some of the children walk for days or weeks just to put their name on a list for surgery. They are barefoot, poor, hungry, but determined and hopeful. Their goal is a smile. A simple smile that will change their life.
Thank you to everyone who donated their time, dollars, prayers, and support to Turning Miles into Smiles.
September 2008-September 2009 will be filled with lots of endurance running and ultra marathons. Again, we'll be raising money for The Smile Train and I'm hopeful that we can hit the $30,000 mark for our annual donation.
The Smile Train Triathlon will be back next year as well so stay tuned to www.milesintosmiles.com!
I think he is going to be a whole new child in his eating and sleeping habits and hopefully he'll start to gain some weight.
I think the most exciting part for me with all of this is knowing that my kids will be there at the finish line watching me. They totally won't understand what they are watching but some day, they'll have an "ah ha" moment and realize what this meant to me. It's going to be an amazing day full of determination - hope - and completion through out the day.
The completion won't just happen at the finish line, I'll be completing things all day long. Completing the swim, completing the first loop of the bike, even just completing a big hill. But ultimately I'll be completing my first year of Turning Miles into Smiles.
This past year we raised $23,400+ dollars for The Smile Train. We can NOT forget why I did this. There are children whose parents have lost all hope. I think I'm sad b/c John has issues with his tonsils! These parents have given up hope for their child ever living a normal life. They don't have the options we have to just fix it.
The Smile Train makes sure that these children are healed and in healing them their families and communities are touched. While my race will be long, some of the children walk for days or weeks just to put their name on a list for surgery. They are barefoot, poor, hungry, but determined and hopeful. Their goal is a smile. A simple smile that will change their life.
Thank you to everyone who donated their time, dollars, prayers, and support to Turning Miles into Smiles.
September 2008-September 2009 will be filled with lots of endurance running and ultra marathons. Again, we'll be raising money for The Smile Train and I'm hopeful that we can hit the $30,000 mark for our annual donation.
The Smile Train Triathlon will be back next year as well so stay tuned to www.milesintosmiles.com!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
You are ready
In one week I'll be packing the car for our drive to Louisville. I'm edgy - excited - nervous - pumped but mostly just quiet.
I've learned that shortly before a race I don't really like to talk - about anything to anyone. I just get very silent. Of course, this always scares my husband who thinks something is upsetting me. Ever want to just be quiet and not talk... like they say in the movies "Silence is Golden."
So I've got my gear list, food list, kids entertainment and sleeping items list, and my to-do list. Somewhere in the next week I've got to get my bags packed, the kids packed, the groceries bought, dog taken to the kennel, house cleaned, laundry done, bike checked, car needs new tires and gifts to buy. Ugh... this is when it would be nice to be going to this race alone but then after the race I'd be so sad to not have anyone with me. That happened at my half Ironman in May. I had no family there and the only person I saw after the race was my friend Rob (he and his wife, Melissa, are doing IM Canada this weekend - they are AWESOME) at the finish line. Never go to a big race without a friend or family member. It's too emotional.
Anyway - I'm still not sure what I'll be wearing. Considering my tri briefs for the bike but I really want to wear my Smile Train Triathlon swim suit. Just worried about bike chafing. Then again, it's only one day and I'm expecting to be a little uncomfortable anyway so why not try and be as comfortable the whole time as possible. I'll decide later...
As I move into this final week I'm remembering a speech my friend Bill sent me called "You are Ready" - it's an amazing and affirming statement made before a prior IM race. Go read it - it's my mantra. I am ready. I'm determined. I'm hopeful. I will complete!
Bob Mina wrote this for IM Canada a few years ago.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Right now you've all entered the taper. Perhaps you've been at this a few months, perhaps you've been at this a few years. For some of you this is your first IM, for others, a long-overdue welcome back to a race that few can match.
You've been following your schedule to the letter. You've been piling on the mileage, piling up the laundry, and getting a set of tan lines that will take until next year to erase. Long rides were followed by long runs, which both were preceded by long swims, all of which were followed by recovery naps that were longer than you slept for any given night during college.
You ran in the snow.
You rode in the rain.
You ran in the heat.
You ran in the cold.
You went out when others stayed home.
You rode the trainer when others pulled the covers over their heads.
You have survived the Darwinian progression that is an Ironman summer, and now the hardest days are behind you. Like a climber in the Tour de France coming over the summit of the penultimate climb on an alpine stage, you've already covered so much ground...there's just one more climb to go. You shift up, you take a drink, you zip up the jersey; the descent lies before you...and it will be a fast one.
Time that used to be filled with never-ending work will now be filling with silent muscles, taking their final, well-earned rest. While this taper is something your body desperately needs, your mind cast off to the background for so very long, will start to speak to you.
It won't be pretty.It will bring up thoughts of doubt, pain, hunger, thirst, failure, and loss. It will give you reasons why you aren't ready. It will try and make one last stand to stop you, because your brain doesn't know what the body already does. Your body knows the truth:You are ready.
Your brain won't believe it. It will use the taper to convince you that this is foolish - that there is too much that can go wrong.
You are ready.Finishing an Ironman is never an accident. It's the result of dedication, focus, hard work, and belief that all the long runs in January, long rides in April, and long swims every damn weekend will be worth it. It comes from getting on the bike, day in, day out. It comes from long, solo runs. From that first long run where you wondered, "How will I ever be ready?" to the last long run where you smiled to yourself with one mile to go...knowing that you'd found the answer.
It is worth it. Now that you're at the taper, you know it will be worth it. The workload becomes less. The body winds up and prepares, and you just need to quiet your worried mind. Not easy, but you can do it.You are ready.You will walk into the water with 2000 other wide-open sets of eyes. You will look upon the sea of humanity, and know that you belong. You'll feel the chill of the water crawl into your wetsuit, and shiver like everyone else, but smile because the day you have waited for so VERY long is finally here.You will tear up in your goggles. Everyone does.
The helicopters will roar overhead.
The splashing will surround you.You'll stop thinking about Ironman, because you're now racing one.
The swim will be long - it's long for everyone, but you'll make it. You'll watch as the shoreline grows and grows, and soon you'll hear the end. You'll come up the beach and head for the wetsuit strippers. Three people will get that sucker off before you know what happening, then you’ll head for the bike.
The voices, the cowbells, and the curb-to-curb chalk giving you a hero's sendoff can't wipe the smile off your face.You'll settle down to your race. The crowds will spread out on the road. You'll soon be on your bike, eating your food on your schedule, controlling your Ironman.
You'll start to feel that morning sun turn to afternoon sun. It's warmer now. Maybe it's hot. Maybe you're not feeling so good now. You'll keep riding. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep moving. After all, this is just a long training day with valet parking and catering, right?
You'll put on your game face, fighting the urge to feel down as you ride for what seems like hours. You reach special needs, fuel up, and head out.By now it'll be hot. You'll be tired. Doubts will fight for your focus. Everyone struggles here. You've been on that bike for a few hours, and stopping would be nice, but you won't - not here. Not today.
You'll grind the false flats to the climb. You'll know you're almost there. You'll fight for every inch of road. The crowd will come back to you here. Let their energy push you. Let them see your eyes. Smile when they cheer for you - your body will get just that little bit lighter.
Grind.
Fight.
Suffer.
Persevere.
You'll plunge down the road, swooping from corner to corner, chaining together the turns, tucking on the straights, letting your legs recover for the run to come - soon! You'll roll back - you'll see people running out. You'll think to yourself, "Wasn't I just here?" The noisewill grow. The chalk dust will hang in the air - you're back, with only 26.2 miles to go. You'll relax a little bit, knowing that even if you get a flat tire or something breaks here, you can run the damn bike into T2.
You'll roll into transition. 100 volunteers will fight for your bike. You'll give it up and not look back. You'll have your bag handed to you, and into the tent you'll go. You'll change. You'll load up your pockets, and open the door to the last long run of your Ironman summer - the one that counts.
You'll take that first step of a thousand...and you'll smile. You'll know that the bike won't let you down now - the race is down to your own two feet. The same crowd that cheered for you in the shadows of the morning will cheer for you in the brilliant sunshine of a summer Sunday. High-five people on the way out. Smile. Enjoy it. This is what you've worked for all year long.
That first mile will feel great. So will the second. By mile 3, you probably won't feel so good.That's okay. You knew it couldn't all be that easy. You'll settle down just like you did on the bike, and get down to your pace. You'll see the leaders coming back the other way. Some will look great - some won't. You might feel great, you might not. No matter how you feel, don't panic - this is the part of the day where whatever you're feeling, you can be sure it won't last.
You'll keep moving. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep eating. Maybe you'll be right on plan - maybe you won't. If you're ahead of schedule, don't worry - believe. If you're behind, don't panic - roll with it. Everyone comes up with a brilliant race plan for Ironman, and then everyone has to deal with the reality that planning for something like Ironman is like trying to land a man on the moon. By remote control. Blindfolded.
How you react to the changes in your plan will dictate your day. Don't waste energy worrying about things - just do what you have to when you have to, and keep moving. Keep eating. Keep drinking. Just don't sit down - don't EVER sit down.
You'll make it to the halfway point. You'll load up on special needs. Some of what you packed will look good, some won't. Eat what looks good, toss the rest. Keep moving. Start looking for people you know. Cheer for people you don't. You're headed in - they're not. They want to bewhere you are, just like you wanted to be when you saw all those fast people headed into town. Share some energy - you'll get it right back.Run if you can.
Walk if you have to.
Just keep moving.
The miles will drag on. The brilliant sunshine will yawn. You'll be coming up to those aid stations fully alive with people, music, and chicken soup. TAKE THE SOUP. Keep moving.
You'll soon only have a few miles to go. You'll start to believe that you're going to make it. You'll start to imagine how good it's going to feel when you get there. Let those feelings drive you on. When your legs just don't want to move anymore, think about what it's going to be like when someone catches you…and puts a medal over your head... all you have to do is get there.
You'll start to hear the people in town. People you can't see in the twilight will cheer for you. They'll call out your name. Smile and thank them. They were there when you left on the bike, and when you came back, and when you left on the run, and now when you've come back.You'll enter town. You'll start to realize that the day is almost over. You'll be exhausted, wiped out, barely able to run a 10-minute mile (if you're lucky), but you'll ask yourself, "Where did the whole day go?" You'll be standing on the edge of two feelings - the desire to finally stop, and the desire to take these last moments and make them last as long as possible.
You'll hit mile 25.
Your Ironman will have 1.2 miles - just 2KM left in it.
You'll run. You'll find your legs. You'll fly. You won't know how, but you will run. The lights will grow brighter, brighter, and brighter. Soon you'll be able to hear the music again. This time, it'll be for keeps.
Soon they'll see you. Soon, everyone will see you. You'll run towards the lights, between the fences, and into the night sun made just for you.
They'll say your name.
You'll keep running.
Nothing will hurt.
The moment will be yours - for one moment, the entire world will be looking at you and only you.
You'll break the tape at the finish line, 140.6 miles after starting your journey. The flash will go off.
You'll stop. You'll finally stop. Your legs will wobble their last, and suddenly...be capable of nothing more.
Someone will catch you.
You'll lean into them.
It will suddenly hit you.
YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!
You are ready.
I've learned that shortly before a race I don't really like to talk - about anything to anyone. I just get very silent. Of course, this always scares my husband who thinks something is upsetting me. Ever want to just be quiet and not talk... like they say in the movies "Silence is Golden."
So I've got my gear list, food list, kids entertainment and sleeping items list, and my to-do list. Somewhere in the next week I've got to get my bags packed, the kids packed, the groceries bought, dog taken to the kennel, house cleaned, laundry done, bike checked, car needs new tires and gifts to buy. Ugh... this is when it would be nice to be going to this race alone but then after the race I'd be so sad to not have anyone with me. That happened at my half Ironman in May. I had no family there and the only person I saw after the race was my friend Rob (he and his wife, Melissa, are doing IM Canada this weekend - they are AWESOME) at the finish line. Never go to a big race without a friend or family member. It's too emotional.
Anyway - I'm still not sure what I'll be wearing. Considering my tri briefs for the bike but I really want to wear my Smile Train Triathlon swim suit. Just worried about bike chafing. Then again, it's only one day and I'm expecting to be a little uncomfortable anyway so why not try and be as comfortable the whole time as possible. I'll decide later...
As I move into this final week I'm remembering a speech my friend Bill sent me called "You are Ready" - it's an amazing and affirming statement made before a prior IM race. Go read it - it's my mantra. I am ready. I'm determined. I'm hopeful. I will complete!
Bob Mina wrote this for IM Canada a few years ago.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Right now you've all entered the taper. Perhaps you've been at this a few months, perhaps you've been at this a few years. For some of you this is your first IM, for others, a long-overdue welcome back to a race that few can match.
You've been following your schedule to the letter. You've been piling on the mileage, piling up the laundry, and getting a set of tan lines that will take until next year to erase. Long rides were followed by long runs, which both were preceded by long swims, all of which were followed by recovery naps that were longer than you slept for any given night during college.
You ran in the snow.
You rode in the rain.
You ran in the heat.
You ran in the cold.
You went out when others stayed home.
You rode the trainer when others pulled the covers over their heads.
You have survived the Darwinian progression that is an Ironman summer, and now the hardest days are behind you. Like a climber in the Tour de France coming over the summit of the penultimate climb on an alpine stage, you've already covered so much ground...there's just one more climb to go. You shift up, you take a drink, you zip up the jersey; the descent lies before you...and it will be a fast one.
Time that used to be filled with never-ending work will now be filling with silent muscles, taking their final, well-earned rest. While this taper is something your body desperately needs, your mind cast off to the background for so very long, will start to speak to you.
It won't be pretty.It will bring up thoughts of doubt, pain, hunger, thirst, failure, and loss. It will give you reasons why you aren't ready. It will try and make one last stand to stop you, because your brain doesn't know what the body already does. Your body knows the truth:You are ready.
Your brain won't believe it. It will use the taper to convince you that this is foolish - that there is too much that can go wrong.
You are ready.Finishing an Ironman is never an accident. It's the result of dedication, focus, hard work, and belief that all the long runs in January, long rides in April, and long swims every damn weekend will be worth it. It comes from getting on the bike, day in, day out. It comes from long, solo runs. From that first long run where you wondered, "How will I ever be ready?" to the last long run where you smiled to yourself with one mile to go...knowing that you'd found the answer.
It is worth it. Now that you're at the taper, you know it will be worth it. The workload becomes less. The body winds up and prepares, and you just need to quiet your worried mind. Not easy, but you can do it.You are ready.You will walk into the water with 2000 other wide-open sets of eyes. You will look upon the sea of humanity, and know that you belong. You'll feel the chill of the water crawl into your wetsuit, and shiver like everyone else, but smile because the day you have waited for so VERY long is finally here.You will tear up in your goggles. Everyone does.
The helicopters will roar overhead.
The splashing will surround you.You'll stop thinking about Ironman, because you're now racing one.
The swim will be long - it's long for everyone, but you'll make it. You'll watch as the shoreline grows and grows, and soon you'll hear the end. You'll come up the beach and head for the wetsuit strippers. Three people will get that sucker off before you know what happening, then you’ll head for the bike.
The voices, the cowbells, and the curb-to-curb chalk giving you a hero's sendoff can't wipe the smile off your face.You'll settle down to your race. The crowds will spread out on the road. You'll soon be on your bike, eating your food on your schedule, controlling your Ironman.
You'll start to feel that morning sun turn to afternoon sun. It's warmer now. Maybe it's hot. Maybe you're not feeling so good now. You'll keep riding. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep moving. After all, this is just a long training day with valet parking and catering, right?
You'll put on your game face, fighting the urge to feel down as you ride for what seems like hours. You reach special needs, fuel up, and head out.By now it'll be hot. You'll be tired. Doubts will fight for your focus. Everyone struggles here. You've been on that bike for a few hours, and stopping would be nice, but you won't - not here. Not today.
You'll grind the false flats to the climb. You'll know you're almost there. You'll fight for every inch of road. The crowd will come back to you here. Let their energy push you. Let them see your eyes. Smile when they cheer for you - your body will get just that little bit lighter.
Grind.
Fight.
Suffer.
Persevere.
You'll plunge down the road, swooping from corner to corner, chaining together the turns, tucking on the straights, letting your legs recover for the run to come - soon! You'll roll back - you'll see people running out. You'll think to yourself, "Wasn't I just here?" The noisewill grow. The chalk dust will hang in the air - you're back, with only 26.2 miles to go. You'll relax a little bit, knowing that even if you get a flat tire or something breaks here, you can run the damn bike into T2.
You'll roll into transition. 100 volunteers will fight for your bike. You'll give it up and not look back. You'll have your bag handed to you, and into the tent you'll go. You'll change. You'll load up your pockets, and open the door to the last long run of your Ironman summer - the one that counts.
You'll take that first step of a thousand...and you'll smile. You'll know that the bike won't let you down now - the race is down to your own two feet. The same crowd that cheered for you in the shadows of the morning will cheer for you in the brilliant sunshine of a summer Sunday. High-five people on the way out. Smile. Enjoy it. This is what you've worked for all year long.
That first mile will feel great. So will the second. By mile 3, you probably won't feel so good.That's okay. You knew it couldn't all be that easy. You'll settle down just like you did on the bike, and get down to your pace. You'll see the leaders coming back the other way. Some will look great - some won't. You might feel great, you might not. No matter how you feel, don't panic - this is the part of the day where whatever you're feeling, you can be sure it won't last.
You'll keep moving. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep eating. Maybe you'll be right on plan - maybe you won't. If you're ahead of schedule, don't worry - believe. If you're behind, don't panic - roll with it. Everyone comes up with a brilliant race plan for Ironman, and then everyone has to deal with the reality that planning for something like Ironman is like trying to land a man on the moon. By remote control. Blindfolded.
How you react to the changes in your plan will dictate your day. Don't waste energy worrying about things - just do what you have to when you have to, and keep moving. Keep eating. Keep drinking. Just don't sit down - don't EVER sit down.
You'll make it to the halfway point. You'll load up on special needs. Some of what you packed will look good, some won't. Eat what looks good, toss the rest. Keep moving. Start looking for people you know. Cheer for people you don't. You're headed in - they're not. They want to bewhere you are, just like you wanted to be when you saw all those fast people headed into town. Share some energy - you'll get it right back.Run if you can.
Walk if you have to.
Just keep moving.
The miles will drag on. The brilliant sunshine will yawn. You'll be coming up to those aid stations fully alive with people, music, and chicken soup. TAKE THE SOUP. Keep moving.
You'll soon only have a few miles to go. You'll start to believe that you're going to make it. You'll start to imagine how good it's going to feel when you get there. Let those feelings drive you on. When your legs just don't want to move anymore, think about what it's going to be like when someone catches you…and puts a medal over your head... all you have to do is get there.
You'll start to hear the people in town. People you can't see in the twilight will cheer for you. They'll call out your name. Smile and thank them. They were there when you left on the bike, and when you came back, and when you left on the run, and now when you've come back.You'll enter town. You'll start to realize that the day is almost over. You'll be exhausted, wiped out, barely able to run a 10-minute mile (if you're lucky), but you'll ask yourself, "Where did the whole day go?" You'll be standing on the edge of two feelings - the desire to finally stop, and the desire to take these last moments and make them last as long as possible.
You'll hit mile 25.
Your Ironman will have 1.2 miles - just 2KM left in it.
You'll run. You'll find your legs. You'll fly. You won't know how, but you will run. The lights will grow brighter, brighter, and brighter. Soon you'll be able to hear the music again. This time, it'll be for keeps.
Soon they'll see you. Soon, everyone will see you. You'll run towards the lights, between the fences, and into the night sun made just for you.
They'll say your name.
You'll keep running.
Nothing will hurt.
The moment will be yours - for one moment, the entire world will be looking at you and only you.
You'll break the tape at the finish line, 140.6 miles after starting your journey. The flash will go off.
You'll stop. You'll finally stop. Your legs will wobble their last, and suddenly...be capable of nothing more.
Someone will catch you.
You'll lean into them.
It will suddenly hit you.
YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!
You are ready.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
The joy of parenthood
Tonsils... John's got 'em but not for long! We just found out that our little guy, John, who just turned 3 this summer is going to have his tonsils out. I know it's not a big deal but now I feel so sorry for the little guy! As soon as I get back from Ironman Louisville we'll go to the Dr. and he'll supposedly come home a new little boy.
I thought that he just didn't eat much by choice and was a long - but light - sleeper. Come to find out a common trait among kids who have tonsil issues is that they are under weight (check), don't eat much that isn't soft (check for my vegetarian), and sleep a lot because they don't get any good nights of deep sleep! Poor little guy!
The thrill of Ironman
But I now have less than 2 weeks to Ironman Louisville and I'm entering my last week of real training. Of course, I'm starting to question if I'm ready and if I've trained enough. The answer is probably that I'll do fine but we'll find out soon! My target words during the race? Determination. Hope. Peace. Completion.
I set out to do this race for the kids and families helped by The Smile Train. If they can live their lives for as long as many of them do with the issues they face then I can do this race. After all my event is only one day. These parents look at their children every day and have to go on. They are determined. They have hope. We are giving them peace - actually 93 children so far. Their mission to help their children will be complete.
How blessed we are to have families and friends that love us and support us unconditionally. Through the generosity of many of you we've raised over $23,400 for The Smile Train. I wonder if we'll get to $25,000 before the year ends... wouldn't that be awesome!
Ta ta for now... If you are going to be at IM Louisville, look for the girl in the Blue Paradise Tri Top and Race Belt skirt. I'll do my best to smile if you say 'hi'!
Tonsils... John's got 'em but not for long! We just found out that our little guy, John, who just turned 3 this summer is going to have his tonsils out. I know it's not a big deal but now I feel so sorry for the little guy! As soon as I get back from Ironman Louisville we'll go to the Dr. and he'll supposedly come home a new little boy.
I thought that he just didn't eat much by choice and was a long - but light - sleeper. Come to find out a common trait among kids who have tonsil issues is that they are under weight (check), don't eat much that isn't soft (check for my vegetarian), and sleep a lot because they don't get any good nights of deep sleep! Poor little guy!
The thrill of Ironman
But I now have less than 2 weeks to Ironman Louisville and I'm entering my last week of real training. Of course, I'm starting to question if I'm ready and if I've trained enough. The answer is probably that I'll do fine but we'll find out soon! My target words during the race? Determination. Hope. Peace. Completion.
I set out to do this race for the kids and families helped by The Smile Train. If they can live their lives for as long as many of them do with the issues they face then I can do this race. After all my event is only one day. These parents look at their children every day and have to go on. They are determined. They have hope. We are giving them peace - actually 93 children so far. Their mission to help their children will be complete.
How blessed we are to have families and friends that love us and support us unconditionally. Through the generosity of many of you we've raised over $23,400 for The Smile Train. I wonder if we'll get to $25,000 before the year ends... wouldn't that be awesome!
Ta ta for now... If you are going to be at IM Louisville, look for the girl in the Blue Paradise Tri Top and Race Belt skirt. I'll do my best to smile if you say 'hi'!
Thursday, August 14, 2008
My New Blog - 2 weeks to Ironman Louisville
Ok - so I got tired of maintaining my own blog so I succumbed to the blogspot.com and love it. I'll do a better job of keeping my blog up to date now that it is easier. As for my prior posts - go to www.milesintosmiles.com/blog.aspx and you can read what I put out there.
So I have just over 2 weeks until Ironman Louisville and I'm starting to taper. I am getting pumped about the race, but equally nervous. After 15+ months of planning, training, working, shopping (gotta look cute!) it is finally here.
In typical Rebecca style I've already planned my races for after the Ironman so I'll continue to have goals.
So I have just over 2 weeks until Ironman Louisville and I'm starting to taper. I am getting pumped about the race, but equally nervous. After 15+ months of planning, training, working, shopping (gotta look cute!) it is finally here.
In typical Rebecca style I've already planned my races for after the Ironman so I'll continue to have goals.
- 26-Oct-08 50-50 Trail Run in Blue Springs, MO (50K)
- 2-Nov-08 City of Oaks Marathon in Raleigh, NC (26.2mi)
- Jan-09 Hopefully the Houston Marathon (I'm on the waiting list)
- Apr-09 Umstead 50mi run (if I can get in - registration is in September)
- 16-May-09 Rim-2-Rim Grandy Canyon Run (44-50mi)
But, I have to get through Ironman first. I'm already visualizing what it will be like to get off my bike and start the run and how awesome it will be to hit that turnaround to begin the second lap on the run. Knowing that once I get on the run I'm good to go. I'll be tired but I know I can do this. My determination is high - completion is the goal!
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