Where has the summer gone?

I’m sitting in my reading room, drinking coffee from a Keurig and sitting on a futon. Both the Keurig and futon are going with Sam as she leaves for DePaul in a few short weeks. As I sit here looking at out the corn field behind my house, I wonder, “Where has the summer gone?”

Sam & I ready for graduation

The summer started with the startling revelation that my oldest daughter, despite my greatest efforts, actually was going to graduate from high school. I find it so hard to believe that she is graduating when I feel like I just graduated myself, what, was it just yesterday? Ugh. No.

Some of our awesome girls softball team

The beginning of our summer was spent at the softball field watching Abby play ball playing center field and sometimes pitching. Some of my best summer moments were spent at the ball field sitting in bleachers with parents that I love spending time with. Parents who make me laugh and cheer my daughter as much as their own.

Jeff & I at the Firecracker 5000

I spent the summer teaching classes, running, a little swimming and even less biking. My race calendar has been light this summer as I focus on the #$(#$)# Chicago Marathon. A half marathon in May.  A sprint triathlon in June. A 5k in July. Oh and then there was my GRIT training. With GRIT, you’ve got to love the pain.

My 3 girls at Navy Pier

And now summer is winding down. My two youngest start school on Thursday at a school district I’m very proud to send my kids to. My oldest….she leaves in a few short weeks to become a college freshman.

The summer may be coming to an end, but it is the start of everything new and fresh. New school year, new friendships, new schedules and most importantly, new opportunities. 

A Life (Extra)Ordinary

As a young girl, I dreamed of becoming an Olympic gymnast. I wanted to be the next Nadia Comaneci. I wanted to be world famous.

And then came the balance beam. It was my nemesis, the destroyer of my dreams. That and the thousands of dollars my parents would NOT spend to send me to live with Bela Karolyi.

Instead, reality set in. I was not going to be world famous and inspire a nation. I was going to lead an ordinary life: marriage, children, mortgage and all, and most days I am good with that. Day to day I think I lead an average life. I am loved by my husband, kids, sisters, nieces and nephews. That's is all that REALLY matters, right? Everyone wants to lead a fulfilling happy life, don't they?

Five years ago I began training for triathlon. Almost three years ago I became a group fitness instructor. In one month, I will be able to claim the title of Ironman for a year now.

After completing my Ironman last August 26th, I received so many incredible messages from people who tracked my race all day long. People who said "It's not if she can do it, I can do it. It's because you did it I can do it." I took that as a mighty fine compliment. But it's been a year since my Ironman. To me, the glory never wears off. I can look at my Ironman pictures and remember every second, every detail of that day.

Then the monotony of life takes over and again I think I lead an ordinary life....UNTIL....I get those random, out of the blue emails from someone from my past, or someone who has been in my classes, someone who has found themselves eating healthier, moving more and eventually getting more fit.

I woke up this morning with a horrible sinus headache which concerned me since I'm supposed to go to GRIT(r) training this weekend in St. Louis. Ugh, every movement made me hurt. While I made my breakfast, I checked my Facebook news feed and noticed I had a message from a friend from high school. Her message brought tears to my eyes.

Just over a year ago she contacted me regarding her struggles with exercise and emotional eating.  Her loved ones did not support her, but mocked her attempts to get in shape. Today? She's lost 30 pounds since the beginning of this summer. She's eliminated some bad habits and kept the negative people out of her life. She emailed me to thank me for my words of encouragement and for all of my "fit posts" on Facebook. (Yes, I can be a little overbearing with getting my message out there.)

It's days like today where I do not feel like I lead an ordinary life. I lead an (Extra)Ordinary life. I am blessed to do something that I love every day. While I motivate others, they inspire me. I am incredibly blessed.

A New Perspective

During day 1 of traveling home, 14 hours of pure joy let me tell you, I decided to go through my “Notes” app on my phone and clean up old notes I’ve left for myself. It’s amazing what you can find when you look through a couple of years of memories.

I found old messages with data about treadmill runs, notes from podcasts, body measurements and most interesting of all was my “ARC” card from when I read Dr. Judith Beck’s “Beck Diet Solution”. Dr. Beck is a cognitive behavioral therapist who has a number of suggestions or steps to follow to change your cognitive responses to food and your food behaviors. I found her book interesting and decided to implement some of her suggestions.

One suggestion was to create a “Advantages Response Card” (ARC) in order to help you stay motivated  and stick to your diet. I created my first ARC after my mom passed away in 2004. I was determined not to follow in her footsteps and find my way to an early grave due to complications of diabetes, which I didn’t think I had to worry about until my 60s or so. Yes, let’s laugh now. In the fall of 2011, I was planning my 2012 race season. I knew in order to be at my best I needed to lose a few more pounds so I went back to Dr. Beck’s Diet Solution and updated my ARC.  While I had 14 reasons why I wanted to lose weight and get in shape, the one that struck me the most this weekend was #10:

I may not do it, but I would like to feel as if I could wear a bikini.

When I wrote that in October of 2011, I never thought it would become a reality. In January 2012, I registered for IMLOU and began the long months of training. In June 2012, we went to Vero Beach, FL with Jeff’s entire family.  My suitcase was packed with 2 new tankini bathing suits I had purchased from Athleta. When we got home from vacation, my darling husband said, “You know you really could have worn a bikini.” I thought how sweet of you, dear, but no. These abs are never going to see the light of day again.

By the time IMLOU rolled around, I was down to my college weight, the weight when I thought I was in the best shape of my life and I still could not imagine wearing a bikini.

When I was in high school, I owned a bikini - one. I wore it rarely, and only at a friend’s private pool. Seriously. At the age of 17? 18? What did I have to be self-conscious about? Absolutely nothing. I had a serious lack of understanding of my own body as well as self esteem issues which most teenage girls go through, only at the time I did not realize that every teenage girl felt the same way that I did. Even though I was young and in good shape, I still did not feel I could compare myself to the models we all see in magazines. You know…the 108 pound waif of a woman-child who could be blown away in the wind.

In comparison, I was about 130 pounds with shoulders like a linebacker and calves the size of Mt. Everest, at least in my mind. In my youth, my strength and athleticism was something I had to learn to control. My strong body was something I needed to hide.

Fast forward through the years of marriage and giving birth to three children via c-section and suddenly now I had a reason to say I’d never wear a bikini again. When I was pregnant with our 2^nd child, I had a dear friend come over and ask if her teenage daughter could feel my belly. I believe the quote was “The skin is tight. It’s like a balloon and if you touch it, it will pop.” Yes, giving birth to a 10 pound 9 ounce baby will definitely stretch the skin as it’s never been stretched before. Between the road map of stretch marks and c-section scars which create a fold in the abdominal skin, I was convinced you would never see me in a bikini again.

And then as vacation approached, I started to consider it. I mean why not? I am 44 years, in relatively good shape and I really do feel good in my skin. So, why not? Remember that road map of stretch marks? The skin which was stretched to the max and will never return to a flat state? Those were still two good reasons why I should not wear a bikini.

In good humor, I went bikini shopping. The first few I tried on were quite laughable, actually quite horrifying. Note to self, you are not 17 anymore.  The top needs to be the size of the Bermuda triangle to hide all that you’ve got going on up there, you know what I mean? I started to think it was not going to happen. Shopping for a bikini in the junior department does not work for a 44-year old mother of three; however, low and behold, I found a bikini which provided coverage for the major problem areas and still allowed me to feel like I was not trying to relive my teenage years.

Now to find the nerves of steel to wear it on the beach.

But again, why not? For the first time since 2007, we were going on a beach vacation completely by ourselves. No one else had to see my flaws with the exception of my family and you know what? They can just deal with it. I called a family meeting and announced to everyone that there would be no published photos of this momma in her bikini without permission first. I reserved the right to review and delete any and all pictures which may reveal parts of my body I was not quite comfortable with.

Day 1 on the beach, you know what? No one laughed. No one said, “Look at that old hag wearing a bikini. What was she thinking?” OK, so maybe they thought it, but by that time I didn’t really care. My linebacker shoulders? They are defined and sleek. A symbol of my strength and the result of years of tumbling. My Mt. Everest Calves? They are strong muscles which helped push me through 140.6 miles on a hot, humid day in Louisville. My stretch marks? Those are the ones I am most proud of. I have given birth to three wonderful and yet extremely different daughters. They are the road map to the story of my children and their start in life.

You don’t want to see my stretched out skin? Don’t look. I don’t care. Get over it. It’s taken 44 years to get to this point. To realize all of flaws I see in myself are just that. I am not perfect and neither is my body. Those “flaws”, they are just that. Flaws, but they also tell the story of my life, the things that make me ME.

So will you see me flouncing around the Tremont pool in my new bikini? Probably not. But will you see me stand a little taller? Will you see me embrace my “Flaws”? Yes. They are now the things that I am most proud of. All of these things add up to me and I like me. What’s not to like? 

The Meaning of Being Fit

On the way to Florida, I spent some of the incredibly, awesome 22 hours reading ACSM's Resources for the Personal Trainer.

Yes, I know. Snoozeville at times, but I found a couple of topics which really made me think.

Tell me about a time when you felt you were the fittest

That used to be an easy question to answer. I used to say I was in the best shape of my life when I played volleyball at Western Illinois University. That's when my coach, Julie Kartel, emphasized good nutrition and introduced me to weight lifting for athletes. In college, I dated a P.E. major who did triathlons and enjoyed running races, but no, not me. I was not a runner. I didn't want to "train". I just wanted to play volleyball. I ran when Coach Kartel required it of me. I didn't enjoy it. Are you kidding me? Running is painful. I just wanted to play volleyball.

I graduated from college, got a job, got married and had kids. During that time, I struggled through my 30s with my parents' failing health and eventual demise. I swore after my mom died that I was going to get in shape and not follow in her footsteps.

Before I turned 40, I decided I wanted to be Fit, Fabulous & 40. How was I going to achieve that? I decided I wanted to try and do a triathlon. Yah, I know, Mr. P.E. Major. "I'm not a runner. I don't want to do triathlons. I don't want to train." Blah, blah, blah. But I also don't believe in failing. So to prove that I could do it, I had to train. I had to put in the sweat and the hours of work. And, suddenly, before you know it, I'm at the finish line of IMLOU screaming to my family, "I am an Ironman!" Running has not only become a requirement for my training plan, but it's become my therapy time. My time to think about life...or forget about it. My time to solve the world's problems. My time. MY TIME.

So naturally, the answer to my question has changed. I would now say that I am in the best shape of my life. I can swim 2.4 miles, bike 112, and run 26.2 all in less than a single day. I weigh just a few pounds more than I did in college. Of course, some of the body parts look a little different than they did when I was in college, but Hey! I've given birth to three babies. Leave me alone!

Jeff & I at Wyndham Palm-Aire

AND...for the first time truly ever that I can recall I am wearing a bikini. Yes, at the age of 44, I purchased a bikini and I've worn it on vacation ALL WEEK. Mainly, because I will never see these people again, but I am wearing it.

I feel fabulous. I know I am the fittest I have ever been in my life and probably in the best shape I ever will be again. I love the way I feel in my own skin and want everyone around me to feel the same way. So, what is the meaning of FIT to me? The feeling which comes from inside, the feeling which says I am happy with who I am, and where I am in my life. I am FIT, FABULOUS and in my 40s.

BOOYAH!

Spring Break: Day 1

Every once in a while you get a blessing in life that you don't fully understand until you in the midst of it. We left Friday night to start our vacation and made it to Paducah, KY for our first  night's stay. We were smart. We reserved a room ahead of time and even though Country Inn and Suites' website told us we were getting a 2 bedroom with a pull out coach, we wound up sleeping 3 in a bedroom Friday night because we "that's all we have left". Ahh-huh. Yah. Thanks. 

Because we got the 5 hour jump on our drive, I decided to be nice and not force my family to get up at 5 am. Instead, I woke up at 6 and started showering so we could get moving at a decent time. However, have you ever traveled with 3 daughters, 2 of which are NOT morning people? With the hot breakfast starting at 7 am, getting gas and (ahem) me chasing down a Starbucks but having to be satisfied with Panera, we didn't get on the road until 8 am. OUCH. Oh well. No worries. We're still ahead of the game, right? 

Most of the drive went well. We made one pit stop and I really expected banjos to start playing. The sign for the restroom was scrawled in a Winnie-The-Pooh like handwriting and with the 3 deer head on the walls I knew immediately we were in TN. Having to explain to my 11 year old daughter why your butthole would be bigger if you had to go to prison for shoplifting? PRICELESS. Yes, Tennessee, you still have class. 

The only traffic glitch was an extremely LONG area around Chatanooga for some unknown reason. I think that was during my 2nd nap of the day. When I woke up, I tried to find ways to amuse myself. I rolled down the window to enjoy the balmy 50 degree air. I watched two teenagers walking along the highway make more progress than we were. I took pictures of the back of my knee to show my Facebook friends that my hives have not gone completely away. Annelise let us know she needed a restroom soon to which I responded "Run up that hill and go! We'll still be here when you get done." Apparently, she did not appreciate my sense of humor. 

We started looking for a room around 9 pm. At our first stop, we were told there were no rooms from Belleview all the way to Orlando, FL. Say what? How many hotels does Orland have and there are no rooms? We were convinced someone was lying to us. 

Stop. No vacancy.

Stop. No vacancy. 

I started visualizing us sleeping in the van at a rest stop. Hmmm. If we drove straight through, we'd arrive at Fort Lauderdale about 4 am. Not unreasonable, right? Well, maybe for me who got about 4 naps in during the day, but the idea did not thrill Jeff. 

First drinks of vacation: $17 Ouch

We called Wyndham Bonnet Creek in Orlando and explained that we were owners and looking for a room for the night. Hey, what do you know? They are all booked up! However, they did help us find a room at the Marriott World Center for $244 a night. Price is not an issue when you want a place to put your head for the night. We didn't even quabble when we had to sleep 3 in a bed again. Samantha and Annelise are so lucky they didn't have to participate in the "everyone lay on your left side....ok...roll over...1.2.3." routine for the 2nd night in a row. 

The good news? We only had 3 hours left to drive on Sunday...which means we all agreed to sleep in....if you can. I was awake at 7 am, showered and had my first Skinny Hazelnut Macchiato by 8 am. Of course, my girls didn't move quite as quick and because I was already happy with my caffeine high, I didn't gripe. We'll get to the beach today. That was all that mattered. 

Watermelon Mojito

We arrived at the Wyndham Palm-Aire about 2 pm Eastern. While Jeff checked us in, I decided to investigate the amenities that the Palm-Aire had to offer and look what I found?  The open air lounge right next to the pool! What better way to celebrate arriving in Fort Lauderdale than borrow $10 from your teenage daughter to purchase  a Watermelon Mojito!

After unloading the car, I gave the girls 10 minutes to change into their swim suits. No lolly-gagging! The sun was waiting. Unpacking suitcases can wait until the sun goes down. While at the pool, I check my Facebook to see everyone back home complaining about their "Illinois Spring Break" which was being blanketed by several inches of snow. Samantha, who keeps showing more frequently that she does come from my gene pool, posted this on Facebook: 

Everyone needs to stop complaining about the snow, I have some real issues right now! This palm tree's shade is interrupting my tanning!

I'm pretty sure my comment about everyone hating us resulted in this post on my wall from my friend, Nate, the local law enforcement officer who also happens to plow snow as a side job: 

You have had a lot of posts about the weather....I would hate for you not to get to see snow with the rest of us and I happen to know a guy with a plow that could put enough snow in your drive way that it would still be there for you to enjoy when you return. That is all...enjoy your trip!!

So far about 25 people have liked Nate's post. I'm sure the number will continue to rise....especially after I posted the picture of my new Billabong sandals on the dash of our van with a beautiful blue sky in the background. 

Abby & Annelise enjoying sand between their toes

Around 5, we decided to wrap up our poolside adventure and go check out the beach before dinner. Have I mentioned that it was a high of 93 here today? Wait, everyone back home does not want to hear that? Ohh...I didn't realize. I thought you would actually be happy for me. Mawhahahahaha.

Jeff facebooking about his evil wife

While at the beach, instead of fully engaging with the beautiful gift of glorious sun and sand around us, Jeff decided he needed to clarify his position on the snow on our driveway: 

To all my friends back in the snow reading Carla Ironman Lebers obnoxious Facebook posts and thinking of retaliating, please keep in mind that I have not been rubbing it in from the pool all day!

 

What? Just because he does the snow shoveling he thinks he can throw me to the wolves? I will remember this! 

After a day of eating licorice, peanuts and Swedish fish, we were ready for a decent dinner; however, our youngest children are fairly picky eaters. We decided to go casual and eat at the Aruba Beach Cafe on a recommendation from the front desk staff at the Palm-Aire. A 30 minute wait for a table for 5 didn't seem unreasonable especially considering the restaurant is right on the ocean. The hostess handed me a Blue balloon with OCEAN scrawled on it while she explained that this is how they find us so DO NOT LOSE THE BALLOON.

Who thought it would be a good idea to give kids a balloon on a windy oceanfront? Do you realize how many people hate my 11-year old right now? The 30 minute wait turned in almost 60 minutes. I was almost ready to tell Jeff we should just go order a pizza and eat in the room when they came to find us. 

Blackened Seafood Trio

Unfortunately, we did not get to sit outside and enjoy the fresh ocean breeze, but sat inside. OK....no problem. Annelise asked if she could order the $30 filet mignon even though Jeff suggested she wait until we ate a steak house instead of a seafood cafe/bar. I ordered the Blackened Seafood trio. Samantha ordered the seafood stir-fry, Jeff the Aruba burger and Abby the chicken strips. I think it's fairly sad to say that the best food of the night looked like it was Abby's chicken strips. I think you can find my review on Trip Advisor later for the Aruba Beach Cafe at 2 stars. 

Day 1 is complete. We are getting ready to go to the beach now. Let's just see if I have the nerve to wear my new bikini.

Runner's Knee

Everyone faces injuries, right? I am just being tested and will come out on top, right?

Two weeks ago my half marathon training plan called for a 13 mile run. Since I hadn't run more than 8 miles since the Disney Wine & Dine Half Marathon last November, I knew 13 miles was not a smart idea. So instead I backed it off and ran 10 - 10 long miles on the treadmill. And while it felt good to get the miles done it was not without concern. Every time I tried to push my speed I wound up with a quick sharp pain in my knee. Hoping it was just a temporary issue I slowed down to finish my miles. (Have I mentioned that I'm goal oriented and I tend to follow a training plan quite well?)

For the next week, my knee didn't bother me. On Friday I went out for a 7 mile run around a local park. The fresh air felt great. I was trying to get my run done before my first class of the day. I started to charge up a hill and BOOM! Sharp pain. I did a little skip step & the pain went away. I continued on my run; however, every time I pushed up a hill my knee screamed at me. Sharp, quick and it was over. After my run, which got shortened to five miles by the way, I didn't have any pain at all. I shared my concern with runner friends and RICE was suggested. My doctor posted on my Facebook that if the pain continued I should come in for an MRI because I am so paranoid about an MCL or ACL tear bringing me down.

Rest seemed to be the order of the week. I continued to teach my classes without incident but stayed away from running. On Wednesday I took a full day of rest. No classes. No running. Just walking around the malls and stores to prepare for vacation. I even decided it was time to get new kicks.

New Kicks

On Thursday armed with my new running shoes I decided to just run 3 easy miles on the treadmill. I made sure to properly warm up with walking as well as dynamic stretches. I felt good....until about a half mile in. CLINK. I could almost feel my knee cap hitting against my thigh bone. Argh. Damn it!

I took a deep breath. Runner's knee? Really? Now? You've got to be kidding me.

I quickly added up my race entry fees: $75 for Indy half, $55 for Tremont Tri, $165 for Muncie 70.3, and $185 for the Chicago Marathon. A small fortune which could be thrown into the wind! Stop it! No negative thinking.

If required, I could just focus on my classes. I mean races are great but I'm not out to win. I recognize my limited abilities.

Then reality hit in my Zumba class Friday. Two separate times my knee cap shifted. It took my breath away and scared my class participants. They could see it in my eyes and hear it in my gasp of breath.

I am beside myself. I'm reading every article I can on runners knee. We left on vacation Friday and I iced my knee for te first hour. I'm hoping a couple of days of pure rest and my knee brace will help. We will see how my run goes on Monday. No running on the beach for me. No long runs. Just a lot of R&R and some short, easy runs paired up with a supportive knee brace.

Say a prayer for my sanity. Say a prayer for my knee. Say a prayer for everyone around me because if I don't get exercise soon, it will not be pretty.

The Smell of Nostalgia

Because my family is even more impatient than I am about starting a vacation (if you can believe that), and no one liked my idea of hitting the road at 5 am, we decided to start our family vacation today.

Changing our plans required the coordination of a logistics manager of a Fortune 500 company. My day was completely full between teaching Pump and Flow, running to Wal-Mart to purchase Les Mis for the 20 hour car ride and attending the middle school talent show where my rock star sang her little heart out.

Note: The talent show was well worth my highly unproductive afternoon. So many talented and brave kids who got up on that stage to showcase their blessings in performance. While waiting for my baby girl to perform, the school superintendent came through. Now keep in mind the super & his family are our normal travel companions. Unfortunately, they cannot vacation at spring break this year because their freshman daughter is playing high school softball. Needless to say, The super did not want to talk to me, to hear me gloat about putting my toes in the sand. Sadness... But I'm sure we'll soon have another vacation planned which will include them.

This year Jeff and I decided to take a different approach to spending money for the kids on vacation. We gave them each $100 and told them they could spend it as they wished but it needed to cover any tanning, pedicures, books, magazines, music or souvenirs for vacation. If they chose not to spend the money, it was theirs to keep and spend as they wished post-vacation. So far it's been an interesting experiment. Samantha decided she didn't need a pedicure. Abby decided she only needed one book but definitely wanted a pedicure before leaving. Annelise went to Barnes and Noble and SURPRISE spent nearly $60 there. Guess who is going to be very picky about any souvenirs?

So after school while I took Abby to get her pedicure, Samantha and Annelise ran Mozzy down to the kennel. Once home, I was on a mission to make sure everyone was packed and suitcases ready for Jeff to load up while I was teaching my final class, Zumba.

Thanks to all of our organization we were actually ready to hit the road by 6:30. Probably more because I threatened to not leave tonight and get up at 4 am if they didn't get their butts in gear.

We hit the road but of course no one had dinner prior to leaving. As we discussed places we could stop in Springfield, I mentioned Jolly Tamale. Man, you could have heard a pin drop for about 5 seconds. The girls all swore I told them Jolly Tamale had closed long ago which to them explained why we hadn't gone there in a couple of years. I, personally, think they just misunderstood me. JT closes every year during the state fair and I'm pretty sure they thought I meant permanently. Oops

After stopping to pick up carry out from Jolly Tamale, we got back in the car and Annelise said, "Do you smell that? That's the smell of nostalgia." Nostalgia for her? It's ancient history for me. I had lunch at Jolly Tamale just about every weekday from 1986-1988 while I attended Lincoln Land Community College.

And, yes, I still get the same thing every time. Sancho, no lettuce, medium sauce. Occasionally when I have someone to share with I'll also get an order of nachos. Yes, that is nostalgia. The sweet taste of cheap Mexican food which filled the belly of a poor college student.

So lets hear it for the smell - and taste - of nostalgia.

Indy Half Prep

My first "major" race of the summer is now 9 weeks away. May seems so far away and yet time will just fly by and suddenly I'll find myself in Indianapolis running a half marathon!

According to my "Run Less, Run Faster" training plan, my long run needed to be 13 miles. UGH. What a daunting task. Trying to squeeze two back to back hours of running in between teaching classes, catching my daughter at her pitching lessons, the middle school Sock Hop, swimming, and shopping for spring break seemed unlikely. Add in rainy weather and it just complicated things. I mean who wants to run 13 miles in the cold rain - or better yet - 13 miles on the treadmill?

Before the Miles

My longest run since last year's Wine & Dine Half Marathon has been 8 miles. Yep, I'm a slacker. Knowing I had less than two hours between pitching lessons and getting ready to chaperone at the middle school Sock Hop, I decided to hop on the treadmill and get as many miles done as possible. I mean what's a training plan if it can't be modified, right? 

And God bless modern technology. When I do long runs on the treadmill, I have to watch an action film. No romance. No comedy. No "Princess Bride". Only an action film will do. Luckily, Samantha went to the library earlier in the day and checked out 4 movies, one of which included "Man on the Ledge" starring Sam Worthington. Yep, bodda bing bodda boom. Nothing wrong with staring at Sam for an hour and 45 minutes. 

Proof that I got it done!

As the miles rolled off, it became apparent 13 miles was not going to happen. I had to be off the treadmill by 5 pm to get ready for the Sock Hop. I made it through 10 miles at my half marathon pace + 30 seconds per miles. Nice, easy, relaxed....long and boring run. 

After the miles, cheeks are flushed by headband still in place. 

Oh sweet momma! It felt great to get the 10 miles done even though it was on the treadmill. In the end it was all worth it. My new Iron Goddess Bondi Band stayed in place. It absorbed all of my lovely sweat. Mmmm, there's a fine thought. And my legs felt pretty good.

Time to get ready for the Sock Hop.

Now I don't know what I was thinking, but I guess I thought I was actually going to do the "Mom" thing and sit on the sidelines and watch all of the kids dance their little hearts out. Within 2 minutes of getting there, one of the little girls pulled me out on the dance floor. Unfortunately, this did not sit well with Abby who wanted nothing to do with her momma shaking her thing. HEY! I am a Zumba instructor, you know? I can still dance.

Good Slow Dance Choice

At the end of the sock hop, the DJ finally gave into the request for a slow dance song. I held my breath. Oh please don't let these 5th & 6th graders pair up boy/girl.....and luckily, they did not. The girls dance with girls and (I wish I had a picture for future blackmail) the boys danced with boys. Oh my yes! Wouldn't that be a sweet thing to have when some young stud comes around asking my daughter to the high school prom?

After 10 miles on the treadmll and two hours dancing at the sock hop, this lady was tired...and hungry! I wrapped up a long, busy, endorphin filled day at my favorite establishment, Perdue's,  having my favorite meal, the Cajun turkey burger 86 the bun with sweet potato fries. Now THAT was a great way to end a fabulous day.

Like sand in an hour glass

So are the days of our lives.

After I wrote my post about Samantha growing up, she posted this picture on her Facebook wall: "From the beginning to the end" with the two pictures from pre-school to her senior year.

I guess we are both feeling her age today.

Sand through my fingers

TIME.

It's like sand sifting through my fingers. 

Wasn't it just yesterday that I was in college? Wasn't it just yesterday that I moved to the Lincoln Park neighborhood of Chicago? Wasn't it just yesterday that she was born? 

1996 - Milwaukee, WI

I find myself trapped in some type of strange, psychedelic time warp. I look at these pictures and I remember these moments so clearly. They WERE just yesterday. We found our first house in Tremont on Samantha's 1st birthday.

Pre-school

I think about the day we brought our first family dog, Cocoa, home. A rambunctious little puppy who knocked Samantha over in the driveway and skinned up her cute little nose, knees and the palms of her hands.

Kindergarten

I mean look at those cute curls. I've always said God laughed when He gave me three daughters. I am not a girly mom and my dear Samantha she is a girly girl with beautiful banana rings in her hair. I don't know what to do with that gorgeous hair?!? Yes, He laughs and mocks me daily.

Mother's Day 2003

I think back to Samantha walking into her first grade classroom and telling her teacher, Mrs. Tyra, that her mommy was going to have her baby today in that loud booming voice which came from such a tiny little body.  Always so enthusiastic about life. Always so positive. That is my baby girl.

Senior Night 

But unfortunately, she is no longer my baby. She will be graduating in just a few short months. Next fall, she is setting her sails in a new direction as she moves to Chicago to attend DePaul University. People ask me all of the time if I am worried about her moving away. Well, yes, I am her mother. I will worry, but at the same time she is excited about the new opportunities she will be given in Chicago. I am excited about watching  her move on, grow up, and enter this next phase of her life.

I am blessed. I am blessed to have Samantha as my daughter. I love you, my little baby girl with the beautiful curly hair and the loud voice (which thankfully you have FINALLY grown into). You have grown up to be a beautiful young lady and now I can't wait to watch the rest of your life unfold. 

Let training season begin!

You can tell when it's triathlon training season because my debit card asks for a rest day. I am not much of a shopper until it comes to training gear and gadgets. Then you might as well suck my wallet dry.

And since I got locked out of the Disney Land Half Marathon - that one still stings - I've decided to treat myself.

Last week I ordered two new Dolfin Uglies training suits. For the first time in several months, I'm actually excited to get back in the water. I love Dolfin Uglies suits because they stand up to months and months of overexposure to chlorine and don't fade away.

One of my new training suits

I also wanted to get a back up cap - you know - just in case. Sometimes in a fit of pure joy of getting in the water (yes, eyes are rolling in the back of my head) I tend to get a little over anxious and rip my swim cap. 

Last week I was talking with our friend, Bruce, who is also participating in the swim clinic with Jeff & I. He made a comment that I am a Princess. As a matter of fact, he said, "All you Leber girls are princesses." He went on to say that Jeff treats us all like princesses. Well, I guess if you expect to be treated like a princess you will be treated like a princess. 

So in order to celebrate my new royal status, I ordered the Tiara Swim Cap. Why not? I mean no one takes me seriously in the water in anyway.

Old Time Photos Session

We are back home from Branson and as much as I hate to admit it, we had a nice time. Branson may not be my dream destination, but it was nice to get away and spend time with the family and friends. Here are a few shots from our Old Time Photo Sessions. 

Don't we look grand? 

Me and my little hunk of cowboy

The photographer told us to look into each other's eyes and look serious. I couldn't do it. Sorry I am not some young maiden waiting to be swept off my feet. I'm a hardened old bitty.

Laughter is good for a marriage, right? 

The funniest part was watching Annelise who really didn't want to put on a dress. She asked if she could wear a cowboy outfit instead. We had so much fun harassing her. Look! She's even showing some leg!

Jeff and his little ladies

For some reason, all three of my girls wanted a gun. What has Jeff done to my children? My sweet innocent babies????

Yes, we are a fine bunch of women. The boys were greatly outnumbers on this little vacation.

All of us ladies

Hopefully, we won't be like the Hatfields and the McCoys, but here is all 9 of us all ready for a show down at the Circle K Corral.

The whole clan

The cutest of the two??? Yes, little Miss Abby and her dear friend, Trey.  After the pictures, Trey's sister said, "When they get married, I can't wait to show them all of these pictures." Oh man.  Poor kids. Their lives have been planned for them.

Trey and Abby

As much as we all acted like we didn't want to do it, it was a lot of fun to get dressed and goof around. Good memories. That's what vacations are all about.

Ironman, God and Me

Back home and back to reality. A couple of months back I was asked to come speak to the Tremont United Methodist Women. On the way home from Branson today, I did a brain dump of what I wanted to say.  Some of the paragraphs don't flow well, but it was just a way for me to get my thoughts together. So here it is. Please note the final paragraph which was the jist of the message.

A couple of years ago I would have laughed if you had asked me if I wanted to do an Ironman. Would it be a great experience? Sure. Did I want to do it? Or better yet, did I feel the need to do it? Heck no. I could never picture myself going through all of the work and sacrifice required to make it happen.

But then about a year ago, things changed. I quit my job at the end of December and I was looking at 2012 wondering what I was going to do with all of my extra time. My kids were all in school. Sure, I was teaching group fitness classes: Body Pump, Body Flow and Zumba, but that wasn't going to take all of my time.

I've always been one to enjoy working out. I like the way I feel when I’m done exercising – that feeling of accomplishment, the release of endorphins that make you feel so incredible. When I was in college, I ran some races, mainly 5ks. I was young and rarely trained. At one race, I came in dead last…and 70 year old nun beat me. I hated running. It was boring and yes it hurt.

In 2008, I was working for the park district when Gene Pflederer brought back the Tremont Triathlon. I thought about participating, but I didn't  Instead I spent the day taking pictures of all of the participants and felt my inner athlete which had gotten lost during the years I was raising 3 daughters and worrying about 2 ill parents. By the end of the triathlon, I was mad that I had wimped out and didn't do the triathlon that year. 

I talked to my niece, Cheryl, about doing the triathlon next year. Heck, I wasn't going to do this stupid feat by myself. I was going to drag her down with me. Naturally, she was up for it and we began training in January. June 2009 we completed our first sprint triathlon….note: the swim was 400 yards in the pool. The guy next to me jogged the shallow end and swam the 12’. Anyone can do a pool swim if you can doggy paddle. So in August I signed up for my first lake swim in Canton. There’s something about the pitch black of that water that is so incredibly scary. You can read endless articles about triathletes – experience triathletes – freaking out in a lake swim….from the dark, murky water to swimming cricked to getting running over by stronger swimmers. Swimming is a mental game…a tough, mental game.

For the last four years, I had trained – a little – for smaller triathlons. Completing sprint distances only. Biking? That’s kid stuff, right? Everyone can ride a bike. I wasn't worried about the bike. Swimming? Oh heck yah. That scared me because you can drown.

So I spent the next few years doing sprint triathlons and running races up to a half marathon distance. Cheryl kept talking about how someday we were going to an Ironman and I was like “Yah yah”…sure. With three kids and a full time job, I didn't see how that was going to be possible any time soon so I just basically placated her.

Until December 2011.

My plan was to do a half Ironman in 2012 and then possibly a full in 2013. But then sometimes God speaks in subtle ways. Sometimes He knocks you right upside the head.

I quit my job. There were already 13 people from the Tremont Triathlon Team registered for Ironman Louisville. I went to lunch with Gene Pflederer and Glen Gullette and Glen said Why are you waiting another year to do an IM? You have all of these people who are in place to support you, to train with? Why wait?

I spent a month contemplating…thinking about it. In the meantime, Cheryl signed up for IMLOU. Glen and Gene were already registered. I wanted to be a part of this event. I wanted to train with everyone and feel that team camaraderie again.  In early January, I talked to Gene and asked him if he really thought I could do it. We ran through my times, factored in fatigue which would slow me down and in the end he said, “Yes, I think you can do it within 17 hours.” Barely I thought, but I agreed. It actually seemed possible.

I had one other issue I had to figure out. I’m a Type 2 Diabetic. I needed to have a nice little conversation with my dear doctor, Volkan Sumer, and make sure he gave me medical clearance to move forward with the Ironman.

On January 13, 2012, I did the scariest thing I've ever done in my life. I registered for IMLOU. I remember sitting there staring at that button wondering if this was the biggest mistake of my life. It certainly scared me, but one of my favorite quotes now is “If your dreams don’t scare you, they aren't big enough.” I paid the entry fee and then turned into a giggly mess thinking about what I’d just done.

I had 8 months to train for the biggest event of my life. I spent the next few months running inside on the treadmill or even outside in the cold. I rode my trainer in my basement watching TV shows I’d never had an interest to watch before. I went swimming 3 times per week freezing my wet hair as I walked out of the Riverplex. In addition, I was teaching 8 group fitness classes a week. On average, I’d say I worked out 6 hours per day.

The winter was so nice that I took my first long ride outside with the T3 team in March. We did a 53 mile loop riding from Tremont to Manito and back. While stopped at Manito, one of the team members checked on my hydration. I said I was fine, but Ed gently replied back, “I drink every 15 minutes. You have to keep drinking in order to stay hydrated. You should be refilling your water bottle by now.” Ha, noted.

I’m someone who needs stepping stones, small accomplishments to build my confidence. In May, Cheryl and I decided to sign up for an Olympic distance triathlon in Carlysle, IL. (1 mi swim, 20 mi bike, 6.2 mile run) Because the water was still cool, I ordered a wet suit in early May for the triathlon. The wet suit works as a buffer between you and the cold water, but it also helps with buoyancy.

Now keep in mind there’s a rule in racing. Never do anything new on race day. Oops. I swam one time in my wet suit at Lake Windermere.  I felt ready. I had been swimming. I had my wet suit. This was going to be a hurdle I just need to jump over so I could move forward.

When we got to Carlysle, Cheryl and I stared out at the lake. Cheryl said, “Oh my. Those buoys seems to far out there.” I looked at the lake and thought, “ I've got this.” I’d been following my training plan. I hadn't swam a mile continuous yet, but I had completed more than that in sets and knew I’d be ok.

On race day, I felt small tremors of trepidation. I was a little nervous. The gun went off to start the men’s race and then the women’s race would start 5 minutes later. I stepped into the water and felt my toes go numb. Dang, the water was cold. 30 seconds to race…I put my goggles on my face. The gun went off. I put my face in the water…and popped right up. Fear, paranoia, thoughts of failure took over my mind. I watched as a majority of the triathletes swam away. I tried to put my face in the water again. Nope. Not happening. I rolled on to my back. I felt my heart race. I started back stroking hoping to calm myself down. I tried to roll over to my stomach again and couldn't get my face into the water. I freestyled with my head out of the water for a while and then rolled on my back again. My emotions went from panic to tears. I looked to my right and could see the shore of the lake calling my name. I don’t know how many times I thought about swimming over to the side and just quitting, but something wouldn’t let me stop. Call it my pride. I don’t know, but I just kept stroking…on my back. I tried to swim freestyle, but every time I did the dark murky water taunted my weak mind. I allowed every fear I’ve ever had about swimming invade my mind and control my body.  I don’t know how, but I did complete the swim…in very last place. I spent an hour on my back, but I made it out of the water. The walk up the hill to get my bike was very painful. I was destroyed. I hated the feeling of failure that was overwhelming me.

Once on the bike, I tried to push the negative thoughts away. My goal was to rise up from last place. At every turn, I looked for someone new to pick off. Someone to pass. The 20 mile bike ride went by quickly. Finally, it was time for the run. 6.2 miles shouldn't have been a problem, but on a 95 degree day 6.2 miles can take forever. The 6.2 mile run became a walk/run/sponge pattern. I can’t tell you how relieved I was to cross the finish line. I wish I could say I was happy, but I was not. I was mad. I was angry. I was convinced that I was going home and try to withdraw from the Ironman. If I couldn't complete a 1 mile swim in a small local race, how was I supposed to finish 2.4 miles in the Ohio River with 2700 other people?

I cried all the way home. I fought with my husband. He didn't seem to understand what I was going through.  I told him I was going to withdraw from Ironman and he said he knew I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't give up that easy, but believe me if I hadn’t wanted to cry myself to sleep in my bed I would have been on that computer trying to get a $600 refund. Gene called me. Glen called me. They both tried to lift my spirits, to get me to see the positive side of things, but I just couldn't do it. For the next four days, I didn't work out other than teaching my classes. I was sure I was going to withdraw.

Finally, I started to see a little bit of light at the end of the tunnel. I decided I was going to really focus on the swim and I could always withdraw later. Seemed logical to me. I did the Tremont Triathlon in June and had a personal best time. I got done and felt fantastic, almost as if I hadn't exercised at all.

The last weekend in June Cheryl & I went to Louisville to ride the race course. I needed to see what all of these hills were like that everyone kept talking about. We started out the day with a small swim in the Ohio River. While some people probably complained about the warm water temperatures, I loved it. It was probably the best swim I’d ever had. I felt relaxed, calm. I felt like I was cutting right through the water. I got out of the water and gave a small prayer of thanks. I needed that confidence booster. On the bike course, I tried to remember what Ed had told me. The pavement temperature was 111. I needed to keep up on my hydration and not get behind and while I think I hydrated ok (not great), I know I failed on my nutrition. Between the heat and the sweat, you really don’t feel hungry. We would get to various pit stops along the route and I’d wonder when was the last time I ate anything. At one point on the way back, Cheryl was way ahead of me and I just dropped my bike by the nearest shady spot I could find. Again, thoughts of failure invaded my mind, but I knew the temperatures I was experiencing today could be exactly what I would be facing on race day. I watched another T3 member drop out before completing the training ride. It was hot and incredibly miserable, but there are always lessons to be learned from every trial we go through.

Shortly after the training ride in Louisville, my body started breaking out in hives. To this day I’m not sure what caused it, but I think it was related to the constant state of sweatiness my body was in. My eyes swelled. My under arms, inside of my elbows, back of thighs and knees all itched like crazy. It was all of the major areas where sweat would pool. It was the only explanation we could come up with. I started going through Cortizone cream and oatmeal baths like crazy. I was pretty miserable.

In July, I was scheduled to do a half Ironman in Muncie which would be a great gauge for me to judge my readiness for IM. But I with temperatures expected to reach 103, the race director wisely chose to change the race from a half IM to an Olympic distance. While I understand the potential medical dilemma the race director was facing, I was disappointed. I needed this chance to prove to myself that I was ready. Fortunately, I completed the Muncie race without major issues.

From May-June, I constantly told everyone that I could drop out of the Ironman at any moment. I think it was a self defense mechanism. I was afraid of failure. I didn't want to be the one person of the 21 members of T3 who didn't complete the Ironman on August 26^th. Finally in July, I admitted it. I would be disappointed if something happened and I couldn't race. I knew I had to finish what I started.

Finally it was race week. We traveled to Lou on Thursday. We had Thursday night to do whatever we wanted. On Friday night, we had the athletes dinner where they showed a video of a woman who got to mile 21 and had to be medically evacuated from the race. Cheryl & I swore we would crawl at that point to get to the finish line, but the woman fully acknowledged that she hadn't followed her hydration and nutrition plan.

On Saturday, a group of us went out to lunch. Gene turned to me and said, “I don’t get it. This is my 4^th Ironman and you are more calm than I am. Why are you not stressing?”

My response was simple. “Several weeks ago I decided God was going to give me the day He wanted me to have. I’m either going to freak on the swim or have a flat tire or bonk on the marathon, but worrying about it is not going to make a difference. I gave it up to God.” Gene looked at me with shock.

You see. I’m not a person who goes around talking about God. My relationship with Him is very private. He comes up in conversations occasionally, but most of times my conversations with God are just between us. He knows my worries and fears. He knows my strengths and weaknesses and I just knew that on August 26^th He was going to have my back. I may not get through the day the I wanted, but there would be a lesson in it all and all I could do was sit back and wait for the lesson to sink into my thick head. I was determined that if God allowed me to complete this race I was going to enjoy every single moment of it. It was a lifetime experience that I may not get to have again and I wanted to complete the day with a smile on my face.

Saturday night I didn't think I’d be able to sleep, but I was out like a light, sleeping by 10 pm. The alarm went off at 3 am. Cheryl & I shared a hotel room while my family all stayed today. In our usual way, Cheryl got up and started saying things like we usually do: “Why are we doing this? Are we crazy?” I just looked at her and said we are going to be fine. We are ready. She responded, “That’s just not us. What is going on here?”

We met our families down at the hotel lobby about 4:15 am to walk down to the transition area. We had to prepare our bikes with nutrition and water bottles and get body marking. They wouldn’t let anyone other than athletes in the transition area for safety reasons. I had to pump my own tires which always makes me nervous. Jeff usually takes care of that for me. He’s a great support crew. Finally, we were ready to walk down to the swim start.

Halfway there I realized I hadn't put my nutrition bag on my bike. Panic set in. I couldn't complete a 17 hour endurance event without nutrition. I was ready to run back to the transition area when Jeff took the bag out of my hands and said he’d take care of it. I tried to stay calm. I reminded myself that if anyone could take care of this problem it would be Jeff. He was a way of staying calm. People respond to him. They trust him. Luckily, he found a volunteer who promised to make sure the nutrition bag was on or by my bike.

We made our way down to the swim start after body marking and then had to wait. In line for almost two hours while we waited for the start of the race. We chatted with other racers and amazingly I stayed calm. I was true to my words. I gave it up to God and knew He would provide me with the day I needed to have.

For once, the swim was not an issue. It was long and it was hard, but I was mentally determined and physically prepared. T3 spent a number of nights in July and August swimming a full 2.4 miles out at Lake Windermere. The first time I swam 2.4 miles I almost panicked, but I just kept swimming. On race day, all of that practice came together. I came out of the Ohio River with a feeling of relief. I knew that the hardest mental part of the day was over for me.

I jumped on my bike and took off for the longest segment of the race. 112 miles on the bike means about 8 hours of seat time for me. And yes my nutrition was on my bike. Again, I said a prayer of thanks for kind souls who made sure the nutrition was on my bike.

For the last several months, I’d been following training plans from Endurance Nation. They laid out a plan which made perfect sense to me. The first hour you should just be riding along with no pressure on the pedals. Get comfortable on the bike. Take in some nutrition. With temperatures of 95 and 40% humidity, I was just looking to complete the Ironman not break any records. I spent just over 7 hours on the bike. The entire time my shoulders were relaxed. I joked with other riders. I even threw out bits of advice to those who hadn't ridden the course before. Jeff, my kids, my sister and niece were all there to cheer me on, but I also had 21 other families who pushed me along with their positive thoughts. My family was in LaGrange, but the streets were so packed with people I didn't see them until it was too late. I passed memorable spots on the race route…where I dropped my chain, where Cheryl dropped hers. Where Cheryl fell. Where I fell. All of those memories carried me along as I just pedaled my bike. I was able to see a few T3 members and cheer them on, but only a few. The second time I looped through LaGrange and passed my family I felt tears well up in my eyes. I really could use a hug from them right now.

Fortunately, as usual, Jeff read my thoughts. He moved everyone up to a 2^nd location where I was finally able to see them in time to stop, get my hugs and have a picture taken with them. I was on the home stretch of the bike. I’d only stopped twice on the bike – once for the restroom and once to get my special needs bag. I found out later the burning feet is a common phenomenon. The heat from the pavement was scorching my feet. I felt like they were on fire. I watched other riders take their feet out of their shoes, but I knew I’d simply fall over if I tried so I just tried to move my feet around a bit to take some of the pressure off.

I remember reading a while back that most people absolutely hate their bike by the time they got off of it. I, however, didn't feel that way. I’d really enjoyed my 112 miles. Actually, I was afraid to get off. I was afraid that I was going to be that person who had a great bike split and couldn't complete the run. I was afraid of hitting “the wall” in the marathon. I knew the physically hardest segment was still ahead of me.

I got off my bike, grabbed my transition bag and walked to the changing tent. When I walked into the tent, I broke out in the hugest smile because my favorite person in the whole world was sitting there…my niece, Cheryl. I sat down right between her and another T3 member and we just started chatting away about the race we had each had so far. I sat there chatting away for about 15 minutes and then realized I still had a race to finish and thought maybe I should get going. I checked my blood sugar, hit the restrooms and Cheryl & I left the tent together. We were chatting away enjoying our day talking about how we could walk the marathon and be an Ironman at the end of the day. We even stopped to get pictures with our families.

As soon as we started to run, I told Cheryl she didn't have to wait for me. Cheryl is a much stronger athlete than I am – and younger as well. I fully expected to have her waiting for me at the finish line. Right away Cheryl said she wasn't sure that was going to be the case. She said no matter what we’d each have our own moment to shine at the finish line, but she wasn't feeling right. Cheryl had experienced some issues this year and I was convinced she needed to hydrate. So we stopped at the first aid station to get water and bananas. We started running again and Cheryl said she felt like she had a weight on her chest. Those were the scariest words she could have said to me.

Finally at about mile 3 Cheryl said she was going to need to stop and I needed to go ahead without her. It was the hardest thing for me to do. To walk away from my training partner and leave her to struggle alone, but we've always said it is about us as individuals and our accomplishments. I continued running, but now I had a new incentive. I was looking for my family. I knew Cheryl would need to hear their words of encouragement, but also Jeff’s solid logical thinking to keep her moving.

The run route is an out and back loop which you complete two times. The run is very boring, but for me it was perfect. It gave me lots of opportunities to see all of my T3 teammates and encourage them on. I kept a running list in my head…next I should see Glen, then Gene, then Pat, then…on and on  and on. I was constantly looking for the next person to cheer on. I followed my Endurance Nation training plan. I ran a little bit slower than my planned pace, but I was feeling so good I didn't want to push it and feel the pain. I just wanted to enjoy every moment. I walked the aid stations. I ran in between.  I cheered on other runners. I prayed for those whose bodies wouldn't let them finish their race.

I saw my family and asked them to encourage Cheryl when she came by. She still had time to finish her race. I found out later that Jeff walked 4 miles with her doing the math so she knew what pace she had to keep up to finish by midnight. He wound up with blisters on his feet, but that’s the kind of support crew we had. He’s the best.

I came back into downtown to start my 2^nd loop. I could hear the other racers finishing their race. I could hear the cheering, the pounding on the signs. I grinned from ear to ear. I heard one spectator yell, “You’re almost there.” That’s when I realized they thought I was smiling because I was almost done. No, I was smiling because I was loving every minute of my experience. I still had 11 more miles or so to complete.

On my 2^nd loop, I realized two of our teammates weren't going to complete their race. One had to stop during the bike. The other, according to the numbers, was not going to have enough time to complete the marathon before midnight. I said a little prayer for them. After committing almost a year of your life to preparing for Ironman, you worry about feelings about depression for not being able to complete it.

I continued following my plan…walk aid stations, run between. Relax shoulders. Drink and eat. Chicken broth was like a gift from God. The salty taste was delicious.

On my 1^st loop, I saw Chris Kinsey. He looked at me and said I was looking really good and he thought I’d catch him. When I came into the last half mile, I had  a gentleman tell me “two big guys in those ‘13’ jerseys are just two minutes ahead of me.” I knew it was Chris and James. I kicked up my pace. At the corner, two girls tell me those boys had just passed by. I pushed even more. I was looking for them. I saw the finisher’s chute. I saw the lights. The crowd. My smile could not be stopped. This was the moment I had been waiting for. I threw my hands up in celebration. I could not believe I was here. Ironman Finish Line. I am an Ironman. I even heard them say my name over the loud speaker. As I stepped beyond the finish line, I did a little celebratory dance. Later I had a spectator come up and tell me that I was the most fun to watch cross the finish line.

Thanks to friends who decorated my  home

It wasn't until after I crossed the finish line that I felt the pain of the day. I was too busy celebrating to feel it before, but as soon as I stopped I felt the lactic acid slam into my body. I drank a water, took my picture and walked back out on the course. I had to be there to encourage Cheryl. I knew this day was not going to be the day she wanted, but she would at least be able to complete the race in the allotted time. As I walked back, Annelise sighed in frustration and asked me to take my phone. She said it would not stop going off. It was buzzing with text messages and Facebook messages of everyone at home who was watching my race day. I felt every positive thought and prayer out there. It’s what helped me get through the day knowing I had so many people pulling for me.

Cheryl finished her race about 11:30. I insisted that she go straight to medical and get checked out. I wasn't taking any chances. After she got medical clearance, we went back to the hotel where my sister had been kind enough to pick up Panera for us and leave in our hotel room. You would think that we would be exhausted, but we stayed up until 3 am talking. We slept for 3 hours and then got up to go to the Finisher’s Store where we met up with our other T3 teammates and everyone swapped stories.

For the next week, I continued to get messages from people from all over the place. I’m not sure if many of you know Diane Imig, but she’s a strong runner. Her statement left the biggest impact on me. She said, “It’s not if you can do it, I can do it. It’s because you did it. I can do it.”

I’m convinced that God had a plan for that day. God had a plan for me the last 9 months. He made me struggle during the Olympic triathlon so I would work harder on my swim. He made me struggle on the training rides in all of that heat so that I would pay attention to my hydration and nutrition. And then on that day He gave me the best day of my life. I smiled all day long. I didn't feel an ounce of pain until I crossed the finish line and you have to wonder why, but I had my answer. I had my answer in the emails that I received from people who said I inspired them. From people who wanted to start on a healthy lifestyle. From people who just wanted to get started to move their bodies.

My finish - the best day of my life

But I tell everyone I am not asking you to do an Ironman. I’m not asking you to run a mile. All I’m asking you to do is set a goal. Whatever that goal may be. Set your sights on your goal and never back down. Remember that God may put hurdles in your way, but those hurdles have a purpose. There are lessons to be learned in every hardship in life. Sometimes it can be very difficult to see past the struggle, but keep looking toward that goal because once you achieve your dream you will feel like anything is possible.