Three Months and Counting

Intense storms, some with 70 mph winds, are moving through my part of the world tonight. After a humid day with intermittent rain, it's become a cool evening with torrential downpours and cloudbursts. It is three months to the day from IM WI. If I'd made it through the swim and off the bike, would I have the wherewithal to make it to that finish line? You bet your bike I would.

A friend told me a story about someone doing her first Century ride yesterday. When she was four miles short of the finish, a race official told her they were calling the event because of reported tornadoes. "Like hell you are," she apparently responded. There's a new Century rider in the world today. I need to remember that attitude.

Stray things I have learned this weekend:

1. It is not wise to wear yellow into state parks in Wisconsin in bee season. The two bees that stung me yesterday were my teachers on this point. The nice state park ranger who sprayed Windex on one of those bites taught me two lessons: 1) ammonia can help these things and 2) it helps to laugh in the face of these adversities. Oh, yeah, and it's stupid to leave your epi-pen in the car when you go into the wilderness. D'oh.

2. The quickest way to improve your speed on the bike is to have your computer checked. Holy crap: my average speed increased by 3mph after I had the batteries changed on Friday.

3. It pays to stay in your own zone. After the weather calmed at mid-day, I decided I could get in a short ride; others in my trusted inner circle advised against it, given more storms were on the way. I decided to trust my gut, and was able to get in a nice 40 miler before the next wave of storms. Because I was doing a loop, I also kind of found a zone I haven't before on the bike, even though this was suburban riding. My quads are tight tonight in a way I like; the zone found me sprinting up little climbs in new ways and at higher cadences, instead of simply coming out of the saddle to grind up a hill. It felt g-o-o-d.

4. I have been deep in bike lust for a few months now and am working hard at the moment to rationalize the purchase of the object of my affections. Current rationalization: If I buy a bike that costs enough to feed several villages in Niger for the next decade, one I probably shouldn't really buy, I will have to chop my own food budget to pay for it. So: through excessive spending, I can cut both excess body weight and excess bike weight. And if I become a charity rider for plumpy nut, which seems like lifesaving food for both starving infants and casual triathletes, it will be an investment in the world's welfare...right?

5. It became clear to me today that I have to think about this Ironman, at least this first Ironman of mine, as being a very different "race" from the Ironman other people might have....and plan accordingly. For example, I spent some time with a friend who will probably finish the thing in eight hours or so, and we talked about nutrition--his plan: Gatoraid and gels. I am skeptical about this stuff since it's only sugar or worse. It's true I can ride a long time on water alone (though I need a lot of it), I'm discovering, but I know I need to refuel. Still, the people who finish in eight hours will have showered, eaten a pizza, had dessert, and then have eaten another pizza by the time those of us who will finish at midnight are at the run turnaround, staring down the evening. I suspect that 17 hours of effort requires a different fueling strategy than 8 hours of effort; seventeen hours maybe even affords you a few minutes to eat a sandwich! I need to remember that there was no cutoff for the original race...the goal was to finish. So, if I stop at the Qdoba for some beans in hour 15, am I less an Ironman than the original competitors, who were eating Big Macs en route....Big Macs given them by their crews, no less? But I digress: Bottom line: I need to get this fueling thing figured out relatively soon, so that it can be practiced over the next twelve weeks.

6, Listening to the thunder tonight, I am making lists of what I would want to have in my special needs bag if we had this weather 9/07/08....Dry socks, a wicking towel, my wicking thermal run cap, and some of those stick-on foot warmers come to mind. Hey, how about an umbrella and a thermos of Mexican hot chocolate?

7. But I get ahead of myself. Ironman is three months away, and there are other races along the path. I have many miles to go and promises to keep, miles to go and promises to keep, before I sleep. Next up: Horribly Hilly Hundreds, o my!