It seems I have abandoned the pool in favor of the ocean.  I have found myself a merry group of swimmers who meet at 6.30am every week day for a few thousand meters of ocean bliss.  While I know that 6.30am does not constitute night swimming, I think it probably has all of the same mystique and adrenaline-induced thinking patterns.

It is pitch black at 6.30 in the morning.  When we jump into the ocean we can barely see an outstretched arm in front of our faces.  The sky is dark and starry, and the water even darker.  On a calm morning the only thing you can see clearly is the sparkly green phosphorescence caused by our movements in the water.

And thus, invigorated and often fearful, we begin swimming into the darkness.  There are really fast swimmers and slower swimmers and on any given day I’m willing to be either if it means I have a swimming buddy to make me feel safer.

I usually spend the first several hundred meters sifting through my various emotions.  I am terrified of what might lurk beneath us in the dark.  I am elated to be swimming under the stars, literally immersed in nature and absorbing its beauty with my every breath.  Some days I feel so happy to be in that water at that time with those people, that I can barely contain myself and the only thing stopping me from grinning while I swim is the thought of accidentally swallowing a larval jellyfish through my smile (easy to do, I assure you).

Once we get to the turning-around point we tread water (or stand if it’s shallow) and wait for everyone to congregate in a sacred swimmer’s circle of laughter and chatter.  We talk about what we encountered (driftwood?  a fish?  some seaweed?) and count heads before swimming back.  On the way back, the sky turns a dark navy, and the oranges and reds start to make their appearance as the sun peeks over the horizon.  My phosphorescent superpower disappears and is replaced with shadows of coral and fish as the water turns a deep turquoise.  I try to savor every moment and every ounce of magic.  I remember to myself how fortunate I am to be alive and I give thanks to the Universe for another day.

“In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s there are few.” – Shunryo Suzuki-Roshi

In college I had occasion to work with an amazing mentor who helped me a great deal in refining my approach to sport.  One of the things he talked about was the Zen Buddhist concept of Shoshin or Beginner’s Mind.  He was always reminding me to approach things with the curiosity and clean slate of a toddler, not bringing my preconceptions with me to the athletic table.  From time to time I remember to experiment with this concept and I usually learn something from the experience.  For a while now I have been wanting to learn something completely new so I can have a genuine beginner’s mind and can reconnect with that feeling.

With that in mind, I joined the local women’s lacrosse team last week.

GB started playing hockey for the first time this summer and it was so much fun to witness the falling-in-love-with-a-new-sport process.  Every hockey day GB’s eyes would light up at the thought of playing and it got me thinking about starting something new of my own.  Although I have played my fair share of team sports including soccer, field hockey, and rugby, I have never so much as touched a lacrosse stick or watched a lacrosse game.  Which means that lacrosse it the perfect avenue for me to practice having a beginner’s mind.  I do not know the rules of play, the positions, the equipment, or really ANYTHING about this sport.   I did not eve know how hard the ball would be or whether it would be bouncy.  It’s all new, new, new.  And very exciting.

I could barely contain myself all day on Saturday and was elated when 3.30pm finally rolled around.  I didn’t know anyone on the team and even that was an exciting prospect for me.  The coaches handed me a stick and off we went to do drills.  Since part of my mission in taking on a new sport was to practice having a beginner’s mind I decided to learn how to play lacrosse left-handed.  I’m right-hand dominant so I figure my right hand can always catch up later.  It’s much easier to learn a new skill with your non-dominant hand first and I figure I should use that window of forgiveness granted to new players to putz around with my weakest side.  That way my mistakes will be attributed to my newness and not to my pfaffing with my non-dominant hand.

Being a beginner was so refreshing.  I let go of a lot of my usual expectations of myself and allowed myself to soak things up and ask questions.  I forgave myself my mistakes and I watched others to learn from their skills as much as possible.  I even tried not to apologize when I made a bad pass (is that what they call it?) or dropped the ball.  Consequently, I had an absolute blast.  I worked pretty hard out there and really enjoyed myself during the end-of-practice scrimmage.

I still have a few weeks of keeping my head in the triathlon game, but it sure is fun to know that a new and exciting sport is waiting in the wings.

This morning I was reading an interesting blog article about how to keep the magic in your relationship.  I was ‘noogling’ as I call it when I’m surfing the internet with no real destination. Oddly these are often the times I stumble upon the most profound things.

The article listed twenty-one bonding behaviors that contribute to couples staying in love.  Reading the list, I realized that of these twenty-one behaviors, only three are possible with an ocean of distance between us.  These three are: giving unsolicited approval via compliments, listening intently and restating what you hear, and providing a service or treat without being asked.

The list made me ache for all eighteen behaviors we cannot do at the moment, especially the simple things like smiling at each other.  It also made me realize how important those three that I do have are; how important it is that I listen carefully during our phone calls and send snail mail letters whenever possible.  Certainly GB and I are having a much easier time being apart this time than we were in January, but we need to continue to nurture whatever ‘togetherness’ we have whenever we can. 

Fortunately GB will be here in almost exactly two weeks, so we can catch up on all the other bonding behaviors.  In the meantime, I will listen as carefully and intently as I can.

I can’t believe it has been a month since I last posted!  I am back on the rock and fully in the swing of teaching again.  GB and I seem to be having an easier time being apart this time.  We are both busier than we were last year and I think now that we know we can still be ‘us’ after long stretches apart, we are feeling more relaxed about another year apart.  Also, GB will be here visiting in 3 weeks and I will be going back to MN for a week in November, so we know we have trips together coming up soon.

I have continued my training although I will admit, after I achieved ALL my season goals in my last race, I have been feeling a little less motivation to continue racing until November.  However, I have a sprint race next weekend and am excited to see how that goes.  My bike finally arrived yesterday (I shipped it here) and I put it together so I’m excited to ride that instead of my commuter mountain bike.  Swimming has been going reasonably well and running is about the only thing that hasn’t been interrupted at all by my geographic move across the world.  It is hotter than hot here, which means I have to do all my running before the sun comes up.  This makes for really peaceful running and really short nights of sleep.

Of course, I miss the dogs (especially the Finn man) but GB gives me regular updates and I will see them again in 2 months.

Anyway, life is good.  No complaints here.  I will post pictures of this spectacular island soon.

On Sunday GB and I had our first wedding anniversary.  I think in some ways we were dreading it a little because our wedding was so amazing and so far above any other experience either of us has ever had that we knew our anniversary would not compare.  However, we really had the most amazing day and were able to reminisce about our wedding without being sad about the fact that we won’t be living together (or even in the same country) for another year.

We played a shocking amount of The Farming Game, a board game from GB’s youth that we both love, played some cards, did our respective workouts, hung out with the dogs, went out and played pool, and had the most romantic dinner ever at our newly-discovered restaurant on the river.  It’s weird to think about how little of our first year of marriage we actually spent in the same country.  And this year will be even less, but with the hope of being reunited next Fall for good.

It’s starting to feel like my return to the Island is imminent.  All signs point to Fall: the corn is now taller than I am, my priority race is just around the corner, and the back-to-school commercials have started.  Although I’m sad to be going back and leaving GB and the dogs, I am looking forward to being back at work and to having a routine.  I can only handle this summer vacation business for so long before I go a little loopy.  I’ve been studying for the GRE, but that doesn’t account for 10 hours in a day.  I’m also considering taking up mountain biking when I go back to the rock.  I’ve always been a little scared of it, but I’m leaning towards bike commuting for this year and that would require a mountain bike to be off the road and out of the traffic.  If I have a mountain bike, I might as well compete, right?  We’ll see.I still have four triathlon events between now and November, so I need to stay healthy for that.

Jack, taking a break in the shade

Finn having fun in the warm weather

It has been so great having the dogs around all summer.  Finn seems really well adjusted to life on the farm here and he seems a little less freaked out by my long-time disappearances and short appearances in his life.  I wish I could take him back with me, but that wouldn’t be the best choice for any of us since he’s such a neurotic dog, so I’ll just have to settle for being happy that he’s happy and knowing that GB is doing an awesome job of taking care of both of them.

And now, off to do a couple of workouts.  I’m well into my taper now and my body is possibly on the upswing.  My last few runs have felt loose and quick, so maybe the taper is working.

Yesterday I did a small-town sprint tri and chased after the still-elusive win.  My cousin-in-law was also racing and it was his first tri, so there was no shortage of family support, making for a really fun race.

It was the first triathlon I’ve ever done that had a pool swim.  Interesting, to say the least.  We ranked ourselves for heat assignments and then had to decide amongst our randomly-assigned lanemates who should lead and who should follow.  You can imagine how those conversations went.  So…are you fast?  nope.  you? nope.

Anyway, my two lanemates and I got it figured out pretty well and the swim ended up being fairly painless.  I have to say, I am so at home in a pool that I wanted the swim portion to go on and on.  Sadly, it only lasted 500m and then I was off into anaerobic hell for an hour.  I had forgotten how different sprint racing is than Olympic distance.

I had a solid ride and in spite of three close calls, made it back to T2 safely.  I did get schooled in a big way on the bike by the woman who won the race.  I had a decent lead out of the pool, but I was no match for her on the bike.  She blew by me at lightning speed and it was only a few minutes before I couldn’t tell her apart from the mailboxes in the distance.

Although my run was not shockingly fast, I’m really pleased with how it went.  I have put a lot of mental and physical energy into my run this season and I have felt a real shift of late.  I really feel like I take the run on aggressively now rather than just enduring it and hanging on.  I felt strong and fast and was actually enjoying myself on the run yesterday which is an enormous deal for me.  All those workouts on the black track in the mid-day heat with no shade – those are what I remembered when I was on the run.  Those are the workouts I have in the bank that bolster me when the pain sets in.

Slowly, slowly, I am getting there.  I am turning into the triathlete I want to become.  Lots of days it feels like nothing has changed: I do the workouts, I eat the food, I dream about how things will be.  But days like yesterday remind me that I am actually there.  This is the stuff – it’s the consistent, often not-especially-exciting training that is moving me in the right direction.  The richness comes from doing the little things consistently and well.  Winning would be fun, but nothing is better than the feeling that I am improving and growing as an athlete and a person.  Except maybe the feeling of GB smiling and screaming at me from the side of the road while all the pieces of my training come together in a race.

Molasses and Teddy

On Friday we took GB’s cousin’s kids camping. They are four and seven and this was their first real camping trip. It was also our first camping trip with young children and although we have both worked in the outdoors with young kids, it is not really the same experience.

We piled into the car with our backpacks and car seats and all the extra things one takes when kids are involved (like teddy bears, for example). We had reserved a campsite that involved a mile and a half hike in, half of which was up a very steep hill. We spent the car ride talking up size of the “mountain” to the kids, so they would know what to expect, and we taught them how to call a break when they needed one.

The kids were actually pretty amazing on the hike and remained in good spirits for the whole thing. In addition to carrying our own packs weighing about 50lbs, we did end up carrying their packs as well by the end, but that is to be expected.  We are not sure how an overnight with kids requires having heavier packs than we normally would on a week-long backpacking trip, but I guess we were prepared for any emergency that might arise.

The kids and I collected wood and set up the tent while GB started dinner. We played a little frisbee and then settled in for a delicious dinner and of course, s’mores. Once we had reviewed and identified all the scary noises outside (so as to make them less scary), the kids drifted off to sleep and we followed closely behind. That is, until the wind and rain arrived. Within a few minutes one side of the tent was blowing like crazy and water was pouring in the roof. We were terrified that the youngest, being already a little wary of things, would wake up and completely fall to pieces with fear. Thankfully, the storm only lasted a couple of hours and neither of the kids woke up at all during that time. Somehow the rain only leaked on us and they both remained dry and warm in their sleeping bags. Neither GB and I got a wink of sleep until the last drop of rain and crash of thunder were long gone.

The kids surprised us again in the morning by sleeping in past 7am. We were up and making coffee and breakfast before they even stirred. When they did wake up we dined and then went about the business of taking down our campsite and preparing to hike out. Since I had foolishly packed the frisbee at the bottom of my pack, the kids played “Toilet paper catch” at GB’s genius suggestion. It was then that we decided that when we have kids, we’d like to have that kind: the kind that will happily throw a toilet paper roll back and forth for entertainment; the kind that don’t really need toys.

They were also extremely polite all the time. The four year old was sipping on his morning hot chocolate and suddenly looked up, eyes bright, and said “thanks for making us hot chocolate!”. Priceless.

The hike back down the mountain was equally well-managed by the little ones and they were all giggles and laughs on the drive home. Given their exceptional behavior, I would not be surprised if they climbed into their parents’ car and had complete exhaustive meltdowns. It was an awesome trip all around and both GB and I are glad we suggested it. Over s’mores the idea of making it an annual trip was thrown around and all were amenable. I figure we have about two more years before we’ll need a bigger tent to accommodate us all. And I’m curious to see how many years until Teddy and Molasses no longer make the trip.

The kids and Molasses enjoy a quick "sitting break" by the stream.

Paula and baby

Dara and baby

Lance and baby...separate entities?

GB and I had a fabulous weekend up at the family cabin last weekend. Northern Wisconsin is really quite impressive and I did some of my all-time best bike riding up there. The roads were smooth and wide, and there was barely any traffic. There were also a lot more hills than you might expect and I was pleasantly surprised by the scenic, rolling terrain. It was great to reconnect with each other and with the Great Outdoors for an extended period of time.

From time to time in our relationship, we hit a bump in the road that I like to call “triathlon takes up too much relationship space”. GB starts to get the sensation of playing second fiddle to my love of triathlon and I have to look pretty closely at life to see things from a different angle. GB has always been completely in support of my athletic pursuits and it was no secret when we met that I had big dreams that would not be achieved overnight. I have felt so blessed in our years together to have such a supportive partner in that sense. When GB says “when” about triathlon, I slam on the brakes and listen. For GB and triathlon to go head-to-head would be the worst thing both for my athletic life and my relationship, so I do whatever I can to avoid that from happening. The moment there is even an inkling of resentment, I am all ears and immediately move into problem-solving mode. GB uses the ixnay so rarely that I know better that to ignore it.

If I miss a workout because of my relationship, it has very little effect on my training if any. The problem is that if I give up a workout, then GB worries that I will be resentful. The fact is, however, I could not be the athlete I am without all the support that GB gives me. If nothing else, just the countless hours of talking out loud about the psychological aspect of training and racing is worth a major Partner-Support Award. I joke that GB is the team manager because truthfully, I would be Team Flat-on-my-Face without her. It’s not just the training that takes its toll. I’m sure that sometimes the clincher for GB is my level of physical fatigue, or the $35 I spent on sports drink, or just ANOTHER conversation about how fast or how slow I feel.

It’s a funny balancing act and it makes me wonder how much more difficult it will be in parenthood. Triathlon is such a selfish pursuit and parenthood is such a selfless one. I guess I have at least a few years to figure that one out before it’s our reality. In the meantime, I will continue to work to strike a balance between my relationship and my love for triathlon.

GB and I went out for an awesome date night in Hudson, WI last night. Talk about a gem of a town. I had biked there once, but never spent any time there. We had a wonderful dinner, were treated to live music in the park, and then had ice cream while walking on the beach. Not to mention the spectacular sunset.

One of our conversation topics was around double standards in sports, since there was something on the TV in the restaurant about the ESPY awards (although there was no sound, so we could only watch). We were talking mostly about how sex sells sport for women and about how women’s performance as athletes is so often tied up with how they look in as few clothes as possible. I was waxing lyrical about Dara Torres and this occurred to me: Dara Torres is a mother – a fact I don’t think anyone is unaware of. However, Lance Armstrong is in the middle of what is undoubtedly one of the biggest comebacks in sports history and NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT THE FACT THAT HE HAS A SIX-WEEK OLD BABY!!!! In fact, it seems like most people I ask, don’t even know!! Never mind the 3 children he has from his first marriage. Not that being a parent and a professional athlete are (or should be) mutually exclusive, but how did we manage to gloss over Lance’s newborn? How is it major news that Paula Radcliffe and Dara Torres have babies and not that Lance does? I get that in Paula’s case, a big part of the media hype was her instantaneous return to an elite physiology but still. The expectation is that having a baby is a life-changing event in a female athlete’s life, but it’s fascinating how it’s a non-event for Lance (at least in the media’s opinion).

My hat is off to Lance’s partner Anna who is no doubt doing a fabulous job of parenting her first newborn while Dad storms the Alps for a few weeks. I think they should put her on the Versus commercials about what it takes to be a great athlete.

Yesterday was one of those days when I was in the perfect mental space to race. I woke up alert and ready at 4.15am, had my coffee, and rode my bike to the race site. I executed my pre-race plan to the minute, and felt loose and relaxed when I started the swim. Because it is a staggered-start race, I didn’t know it at the time, but I had the fastest swim in my age group, which was already enough for me to call the day a success.

I had a frustrating transition with some wetsuit struggles and one of my shoes falling off my pedal when I unracked my bike, but I kept my cool and managed to not get crazy about it. Then less than 3 miles into the bike, I heard the sound of a waterbottle falling out of my cage. I reached around to realize that BOTH my bottles were gone and yelled out “SERIOUSLY???”.  All of my racing energy got channeled into me being pissed off about losing my carefully-planned nutrition and hydration planned.  Fortunately, I collected myself quickly and began formulating a plan.  There was no way I was going back to get them so I decided to relax and go with it, promising myself I’d take time to rehydrate in transition if necessary.  I prepared to let go of my running goal of feeling great, knowing that would be hard without proper hydration and calories on the bike.

Lucky for me (and unbeknownst to me at the time), just a few miles down the road there was a water stop where they were handing out bottles, so although I had lost my sports drink, dehydration was no longer a necessity and I had a vehicle with which to digest my gels.

The bike went fairly well.  It’s a pretty technical course with some deceiving inclines and lots of ninety degree turns, so I was not expecting anything spectacular on the bike.  I was, however, THRILLED with how my new bike performed and very glad I took the time to get it repaired the day before.

I got off the bike with a big smile, feeling like I was on target for my goal for a feel-great run.  I kept an eye on my HR and tried to keep a lid on things for the first loop.  Every time I passed the throngs of in-law relatives that had come to cheer me on I got goosebumps – it was such an awesome feeling to have them all there.  I got passed by two girls on the run and resolved to stay with my plan of holding back for the first loop.  Then on the second loop I opened it up and started hauling.  I nearly exclaimed out loud when I saw that I was reeling one of those girls back in – I have NEVER been able to come back on the run after being passed.  Sure enough I chipped away at the gap until I was right behind her.  Then I took a deep breath and surged past her as we exchanged encouraging words.  The thrill of being able to hunt someone down on the run has always eluded me with my formerly very weak run, so you can imagine my elation at the feeling of passing people!

I finished strong and was over the moon at having felt so good on the run.  I still have a lot of work to do on my running, but I really feel like I’m on the right track now.  It’s easy to look at the times for the elite girls and feel like I was a snail out there on Saturday, but I need to remember that I did achieve all of my race goals and that I am on my way to where I want to go; I’m just not there yet.  Chipping away, chipping away…

For some unknown reason, I am experiencing a dearth of water bottles.  I think we probably trimmed down our collection when we moved our stuff to MN and have somehow lost the rest since.  I know that there is one in the bushes on one of my ride routes, but other than that the rest are a mystery.  Get this: I was forced to BUY a water bottle yesterday!  This is something I am morally opposed to because a) there are already too many bottles floating around the planet and b) I get so many of these free through racing that I should never need to invest in one.  But alas, I did.  And wouldn’t you know?  It doesn’t fit in my bottle cage.

On Saturday I am racing Lifetime in Minneapolis (with an ill-shaped waterbottle crammed into my cage).  This is not an ‘A’ race for me and I am not expecting big things given my recent surgery recovery time.  However, I’m really excited for the race.  My training has been extremely solid and I have followed my workouts to the letter.  I am well-hydrated, I am rested, I am fit, I’ve been eating well, and I have a family fan base here in Minneapolis to cheer me on.  And what’s more?  For only the second time in my racing career, I’m going to sleep close enough to the race to walk there in the morning.  This is a huge load off my mind since I do not relish the pre-race drive, and I am very grateful to my sister- and brother-in-law for offering me a bed.

Last night I ran one loop of the run course to familiarize myself with it.  I have been trying to visualize a speedy and comfortable run since I have in the past had slow and painful 10k runs in races.  I raced Lifetime two years ago when GB’s Mom was having her brain surgery.  There was so much stress around that week and GB and I were exhausted beyond measure.  It was almost silly of me to go out there and race when I was already feeling so taxed, but I had registered long before we knew about the surgery and GB’s Mom was adamant that I race.  Thankfully the brain surgery was successful and I somehow finished the race.  I remember a painful, slogging feeling from the run and had the sensation of it being uphill even though it was totally flat.

I am not too caught up in time goals for Saturday.  I have banned myself from doing any predictive math.  Mostly what I want is my usual strong swim, a decent bike with good nutrition, and a run that feels magic.  I have been working very hard (especially mentally) on my run and I think I am probably due for a little time in the Zone.  Of course, this breaks the rules of measurable goals, but I’ll know if I achieved it by how I feel.  And besides, I’ll have GB and the many in-laws watching and cheering – what could be better?