Sunday, November 15, 2009
Tour de Tucson: Have I trained enough?
Less than a week until the Tour de Tucson and I have not ridden more than 50 miles since the MS150! Despite my visions of doing 60 and 70 mile training rides, I just didn’t get it done. I have been doing some indoor spinning and did get in a couple good long rides in the past few months, but nothing resembling long rides to prepare for a 109 mile ride! My visions and desires this year have tended to surpass my abilities causing me to have to step back and do a reality check on what my body is telling me it can handle. And I really don’t like it when I have to admit I have limitations. The most challenging self analysis that I’m doing is learning the difference between self imposed limitations and external imposed limitations. I am a proponent and firm believer of dreaming big, setting stretch goals, and no excuses philosophy and I haven’t been able to tell if what my body is going through this year is self imposed mental limitations that I can work through or real physical limitations calling for a change in what I’m doing.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Colorado Springs Tour de Food
I was not able to pull off the Swim Bark Run fundraiser this year, but I wanted to do something as a fundraiser for MS, so Steve and I put together the 1st Annual Tour de Food! Think of a progressive dinner, but on bicycles. Any bike ride that involves drinking caffeine and eating is my kind of ride! It was a 35 mile ride, stopping at Dog Tooth Coffee for caffeine and pastries, then riding up Mesa Road, through Garden of the Gods and on to Rotelli’s for pasta and pizza. We had 12 riders, had a great time and raised money for the MS Society. Thanks to the proprietors of the eateries for donating part of the revenues to the MS Society and to the cyclists who joined us!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Boulder Peak and Bike MS
“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.” I ran across this quote a couple weeks ago and wrote it down and taped it to my computer. I love quotes and read a lot of them; the ones that stick are ones that resonate at the time because they have some meaning or relevance to what’s going on with me at the time. This one really struck a chord with me when I read it, because this spring and early summer I’ve really been struggling and when I was feeling at my worst, I kept telling myself “just get through this. It will pass.” I have a friend that I met on my trip to Peru 5 years ago, and we write letters to each other. Long and open letters. He’s 82 years old and is full of wisdom for me. I wrote to him that exact sentiment – “I’m in a bad period, and I am just focused on getting through it.” His next letter helped me alter the way I thought of this period. He wrote about his experience getting run over by a tractor on a cross Europe bicycle ride: “ I was in charge of the way I experienced all that I choose to experience – increased awareness of joy, playfulness, love and compassion rather than bitterness, and poor me and this choice is such a powerful, self-affirming choice.” What I took away from that was “you can sit around and feel sorry for yourself, anxiously awaiting the time when life will be better, or you can enjoy the hell out of it.
And so I did. And have been less focused on getting this phase of life over with and moving on to focusing on making the most of it. And then I ran across that quote, and there it is, scotch taped to my computer so I can remember that it’s about learning to dance in the rain.
I thought about this a lot in my “big two” events this summer – the MS150 and the Boulder Peak Triathlon:
My second Bike MS was less intimidating than the first as I knew what to expect this year. Oh, and I got a new bike for Valentine’s Day. Who would have thought carbon fiber was the key to reducing soreness in the butt? Last year’s ride was all about the hiney, and with my fancy new wheels, this year’s ride was all about the food and enjoying the experience. Last year I was watching my time, pushing for finishing as quick as I could; this year I watched the route map, looking for the next rest stop so I could eat and relax and meet new people. Last year I measured my “success” in how long it took me to finish, this year I measured my success in weight gained on the ride (yes, there is that much food to enjoy!)
The TriForMS team was 12 strong this year. It was a great group of people and I really enjoyed the experience. 2 of our team members have MS, 2 team members have spouses with MS, and most team members have a relative or friend with MS. Steve and I were honored by their commitment to the ride and the cause.
It’s an amazing event to experience. Over 3000 cyclists participated this year. For 150 miles, you ride and are surrounded by people riding to raise money and awareness for MS. I met one man riding a hand pedal bike; he was diagnosed with MS 18 months ago and can’t walk. I saw him in a wheelchair the 2nd morning; he wheeled himself to the bike corral, traded his wheelchair for his hand bike and started riding. We met up with him on the ride and heard his story. He has done the MS ride for 10 years, and once he was diagnosed with MS, he wanted to keep in shape and do something to help others with MS, so he started training on a hand pedal bike and there he was. I thought of him during the last 15 miles of the ride when I was tired and hurting; my pain would transition to mere fatigue once I finished, and I could get off my bike and walk to my car, he would get off his bike and get into his wheelchair. He certainly has learned how to dance in the rain.
The ride by the numbers:
Total Miles: 150
Total Ascent: 6863 feet
Highest Speed: 33.8 MPH (oh my gosh that is fast for me and laughable for the elite cyclists!)
2 weeks later, Steve and I did the Boulder Peak Triathlon. This race is an Olympic distance triathlon (1 mile swim, 25 mile bike, 6.2 mile run); the swim is in Boulder Reservoir, the bike is around Boulder and the run is an out an back around Boulder Reservoir.
I felt worse physically in this race than I ever have in a race, and I had a great day. First the swim; my age group (and the 30-35 year old male age group) was wave 6 at 7:00 AM (there are 3 minutes between the start of each wave). Picture this: there are about 200 athletes in the reservoir, suited up in wetsuits, like colored swim caps (each age group has the same color cap), and goggles each thinking about how far that first buoy is. We have 3 minutes to jockey for starting position – the fast people push their way up to the front of the group. I do ok in the swim, so I find a place behind the testosterone flooded men and in the middle of the women my age. Stretch, spit in my goggles again, adjust my cap for the 100th time, breathe, make nervous small talk with the woman beside me. I shade my eyes, look into the sun, and look for the far buoy once more. I’m sure someone has made a serious miscalculation because the buoy we have to swim around much too far away; I can barely see the yellow floating object! My mind is filled with all those swim workouts I cut short. I can’t remember that last time I actually swam a mile. They better get this going before I hyperventilate and drown on the shore. The horn sounds and we’re off, which means I dive into the dirty reservoir water where you can’t see 2 feet in front of you and I swam over a couple of people and try to find my rhythm. Since I never have to worry about being in the front of the pack, I don’t have to try to spot the next buoy while the sun is blinding me. Let someone faster than me do all the work is a strategy that works for me. OK, I’m at the first buoy and I feel like I’m gonna drown right there. I have to switch to a few strokes of breaststroke (an embarrassing admission to anyone who is a “real” triathlete), but my new motto of “learning to dance in the rain” is on my mind, and I’m just going to enjoy this race! If I had access to floaties, I’d have put them on right there. Shortly, I’m at the turnaround buoy and I haven’t drowned, nor have I had to find a kayak guy so I could hang on for a few rest minutes (though the thought occurred to hang on the kayak for other reasons). I’m feeling pretty confident now until someone swims over the top of me! They need to learn to swim straight! I think in my newly acquired confident state until I look up to spot the next buoy and see that I’m heading 90 degrees in the wrong direction. Man, my arms hurt. How far to the swim finish? I’ve swallowed enough lake water that I probably won’t need to drink a thing on the bike. 35 minutes after I started and my feet touch the bottom and it’s time to stand up and run to the bike transition area.
Stand up and RUN? To the bike area? HA! Have you ever swam a mile in a reservoir and then tried to stand up? Think back to your college days and one too many drinks…. I finally stand and walk / jog to my bike.
And here is the very distinction between me, a recreational athlete, and the competitive athlete (say, someone like Steve…) I get to my transition spot which is where you prepare to get on the bike – wetsuit off, helmet on, bike shoes on, sunglasses on. And the woman who has her bike next to mine arrives (yes, I beat her out of the water!!). And I have some nice spray on sunscreen and I see she doesn’t have any, so I kindly offer to spray her down with sunscreen so she wouldn’t get sunburned. She accepted and thus gave me the most convenient of excuses of why she beat me in the bike portion.
Off I go at an astonishing leisurely pace. The first 6 miles of the bike ride are uphill, with the conclusion of the climb of 2/3 mile of a mile climbing at a 15% grade. Trust me if you don’t know what a 15% grade looks like when I say it looks like the famous streets of San Francisco. One of my goals this year was to ride up the hill and not get off and walk my bike (I was able to ride up it last year after all….) I was doing ok and using all the mental techniques I had in my arsenal “You’ve got it! This is your hill! Don’t give up! One foot in front of the other!” Combine that with all the incredibly nice people on the side of the road cheering and yelling supportive statements and I was able to get to about 50 yards from the summit. At that point, my legs were screaming so loud the cyclists passing me gave me a wider berth, my heart rate monitor wasn’t registering any longer, and I was going so slow I looked like a child first learning to ride without training wheels. It was either unclip from the pedals or fall over, so I made the very wise decision to unclip, get off and walk my bike to the summit. I had good company though, as another biker and I pushed our bikes uphill and made the expected remarks about what a killer hill Old Stage Road is. Once at the top, I gasped for more air (it’s not easy getting oxygen at 7500 ft elevation!), got back on and off I went. With every climb comes a descent and this one is a blast. They even have a strictly enforced speed limit on this hill (not that I would ever be in danger of getting disqualified for exceeding it). The rest of the bike ride was pure pleasure. The scenery around Boulder at the foothills of the Rockies is something to experience.
As I finished the ride, the pros were just leaving on their bikes. All decked out in the latest gear, riding bikes that cost more than my car and wearing helmets that make people mistake them for aliens, they fly by so quickly they are just a blur, and remind me why my calling in life was not to be a professional athlete.
I ride into the transition area and there is Steve! He’s already finished his race and is ready to do the run with me – now that’s support! I have to pee like crazy, but opt to skip the porta potties in the transition area because surely no one would have a race without potties on the run course. I’m questioning my sanity as I start the run and tell Steve “this is going to take a really long time”. As I leave the run area, I pretend that I’m a strong, fast runner and have plenty of energy to zip through the 10k run. I’m not about to admit to all the spectators that I drank too much Gatorade on the bike and feel like throwing up before I’ve even run a mile. Once we get through the crowded area and are on the dry, hot, desolate run course around the reservoir I ask Steve where the next porta potty is. “Uh, there aren’t any on the run course. “ I gaze into the distance looking for any semblance of cover; where is a tree when you need one? Steve let me know there were trees about 2 miles in, so that was motivation enough for me to run, not walk, to the trees. I’m not embarrassed to say I did take a side trip into the trees… On we go. At this point, I feel terrible – it’s hot, I hurt, I feel like throwing up, I have lactic acid cramps, and I’m having a great time. Steve is running beside me taking photos and keeping me company (I made him promise not to take photos of me walking so there wouldn’t be any evidence). Finally, the half way point and we get to turn around. I passed an 80 year old man (hooray for him!) that we joked with, I jogged as much as I could, and then we got to the 4 mile mark which is where the pro athletes turn around. Our pro friend Amanda Stevens was running the other way and we got to cheer her on and see the other pro athletes (I can’t even ride my bike as fast as they’re running!). As I ran the last 2 miles, we watched for Amanda to come up behind me so Steve could get a photo of me and Amanda running together! She zoomed by me at her turnaround as I made my final sprint to the finish. (She placed 2nd in the pro women’s division). I was so tired, I couldn’t take my chip off but wow that cold wet towel they threw over my shoulders at the finish was heaven!
Now that the race was over and I burned a whole lot of calories and energy, I immediately started contemplating all the sinful foods I can eat guilt free the rest of the day. Some people do races for the competition, some for the glory of standing on the winner’s podium, some to achieve their personal best… me? I do them so I can eat.
We stayed for the awards ceremony because my amazing husband placed 3rd in his age group and got an award. Watching the awards ceremony, I momentarily lapsed into a string of excuses of why I didn’t do better than last year:
1. I didn’t buy a cute new Tri outfit to wear
2. Steve made me get up at 2:30 AM so he could get his bike in the best spot in the transition area
3. I took time to spray down the racer next to me with sunscreen at the bike transition…
But then I remembered that my race was exactly the outcome that my training created. And I focused on how lucky I was to be able to even complete the race.
As we packed our gear I realized that packing the car for a triathlon is a lot like packing the car to go grocery shopping with an infant. We left and headed to the first 7-Eleven we could find – Steve for his beloved Mtn Dew and our friend Chuck and I headed for the ice cream and candy bars.
I was very happy with my race. I knew I hadn’t trained hard this year. Some days, my workout consisted of getting out of bed, on the better days I was able to make it to the gym for a 15 minute swim or 10 minute walk on the treadmill. Occasionally, my hormones were kind enough to be present, and I’d have an exhilarating workout and it was enough to refresh my enthusiasm and keep going. My race was a “learning to dance in the rain” race this year. My health is what it is right now and while I can’t say I enjoy the hell out of it every day, I can say I’m learning how to be where I am and discover the wisdom in it.
And so I did. And have been less focused on getting this phase of life over with and moving on to focusing on making the most of it. And then I ran across that quote, and there it is, scotch taped to my computer so I can remember that it’s about learning to dance in the rain.
I thought about this a lot in my “big two” events this summer – the MS150 and the Boulder Peak Triathlon:
My second Bike MS was less intimidating than the first as I knew what to expect this year. Oh, and I got a new bike for Valentine’s Day. Who would have thought carbon fiber was the key to reducing soreness in the butt? Last year’s ride was all about the hiney, and with my fancy new wheels, this year’s ride was all about the food and enjoying the experience. Last year I was watching my time, pushing for finishing as quick as I could; this year I watched the route map, looking for the next rest stop so I could eat and relax and meet new people. Last year I measured my “success” in how long it took me to finish, this year I measured my success in weight gained on the ride (yes, there is that much food to enjoy!)
The TriForMS team was 12 strong this year. It was a great group of people and I really enjoyed the experience. 2 of our team members have MS, 2 team members have spouses with MS, and most team members have a relative or friend with MS. Steve and I were honored by their commitment to the ride and the cause.
It’s an amazing event to experience. Over 3000 cyclists participated this year. For 150 miles, you ride and are surrounded by people riding to raise money and awareness for MS. I met one man riding a hand pedal bike; he was diagnosed with MS 18 months ago and can’t walk. I saw him in a wheelchair the 2nd morning; he wheeled himself to the bike corral, traded his wheelchair for his hand bike and started riding. We met up with him on the ride and heard his story. He has done the MS ride for 10 years, and once he was diagnosed with MS, he wanted to keep in shape and do something to help others with MS, so he started training on a hand pedal bike and there he was. I thought of him during the last 15 miles of the ride when I was tired and hurting; my pain would transition to mere fatigue once I finished, and I could get off my bike and walk to my car, he would get off his bike and get into his wheelchair. He certainly has learned how to dance in the rain.
The ride by the numbers:
Total Miles: 150
Total Ascent: 6863 feet
Highest Speed: 33.8 MPH (oh my gosh that is fast for me and laughable for the elite cyclists!)
2 weeks later, Steve and I did the Boulder Peak Triathlon. This race is an Olympic distance triathlon (1 mile swim, 25 mile bike, 6.2 mile run); the swim is in Boulder Reservoir, the bike is around Boulder and the run is an out an back around Boulder Reservoir.
I felt worse physically in this race than I ever have in a race, and I had a great day. First the swim; my age group (and the 30-35 year old male age group) was wave 6 at 7:00 AM (there are 3 minutes between the start of each wave). Picture this: there are about 200 athletes in the reservoir, suited up in wetsuits, like colored swim caps (each age group has the same color cap), and goggles each thinking about how far that first buoy is. We have 3 minutes to jockey for starting position – the fast people push their way up to the front of the group. I do ok in the swim, so I find a place behind the testosterone flooded men and in the middle of the women my age. Stretch, spit in my goggles again, adjust my cap for the 100th time, breathe, make nervous small talk with the woman beside me. I shade my eyes, look into the sun, and look for the far buoy once more. I’m sure someone has made a serious miscalculation because the buoy we have to swim around much too far away; I can barely see the yellow floating object! My mind is filled with all those swim workouts I cut short. I can’t remember that last time I actually swam a mile. They better get this going before I hyperventilate and drown on the shore. The horn sounds and we’re off, which means I dive into the dirty reservoir water where you can’t see 2 feet in front of you and I swam over a couple of people and try to find my rhythm. Since I never have to worry about being in the front of the pack, I don’t have to try to spot the next buoy while the sun is blinding me. Let someone faster than me do all the work is a strategy that works for me. OK, I’m at the first buoy and I feel like I’m gonna drown right there. I have to switch to a few strokes of breaststroke (an embarrassing admission to anyone who is a “real” triathlete), but my new motto of “learning to dance in the rain” is on my mind, and I’m just going to enjoy this race! If I had access to floaties, I’d have put them on right there. Shortly, I’m at the turnaround buoy and I haven’t drowned, nor have I had to find a kayak guy so I could hang on for a few rest minutes (though the thought occurred to hang on the kayak for other reasons). I’m feeling pretty confident now until someone swims over the top of me! They need to learn to swim straight! I think in my newly acquired confident state until I look up to spot the next buoy and see that I’m heading 90 degrees in the wrong direction. Man, my arms hurt. How far to the swim finish? I’ve swallowed enough lake water that I probably won’t need to drink a thing on the bike. 35 minutes after I started and my feet touch the bottom and it’s time to stand up and run to the bike transition area.
Stand up and RUN? To the bike area? HA! Have you ever swam a mile in a reservoir and then tried to stand up? Think back to your college days and one too many drinks…. I finally stand and walk / jog to my bike.
And here is the very distinction between me, a recreational athlete, and the competitive athlete (say, someone like Steve…) I get to my transition spot which is where you prepare to get on the bike – wetsuit off, helmet on, bike shoes on, sunglasses on. And the woman who has her bike next to mine arrives (yes, I beat her out of the water!!). And I have some nice spray on sunscreen and I see she doesn’t have any, so I kindly offer to spray her down with sunscreen so she wouldn’t get sunburned. She accepted and thus gave me the most convenient of excuses of why she beat me in the bike portion.
Off I go at an astonishing leisurely pace. The first 6 miles of the bike ride are uphill, with the conclusion of the climb of 2/3 mile of a mile climbing at a 15% grade. Trust me if you don’t know what a 15% grade looks like when I say it looks like the famous streets of San Francisco. One of my goals this year was to ride up the hill and not get off and walk my bike (I was able to ride up it last year after all….) I was doing ok and using all the mental techniques I had in my arsenal “You’ve got it! This is your hill! Don’t give up! One foot in front of the other!” Combine that with all the incredibly nice people on the side of the road cheering and yelling supportive statements and I was able to get to about 50 yards from the summit. At that point, my legs were screaming so loud the cyclists passing me gave me a wider berth, my heart rate monitor wasn’t registering any longer, and I was going so slow I looked like a child first learning to ride without training wheels. It was either unclip from the pedals or fall over, so I made the very wise decision to unclip, get off and walk my bike to the summit. I had good company though, as another biker and I pushed our bikes uphill and made the expected remarks about what a killer hill Old Stage Road is. Once at the top, I gasped for more air (it’s not easy getting oxygen at 7500 ft elevation!), got back on and off I went. With every climb comes a descent and this one is a blast. They even have a strictly enforced speed limit on this hill (not that I would ever be in danger of getting disqualified for exceeding it). The rest of the bike ride was pure pleasure. The scenery around Boulder at the foothills of the Rockies is something to experience.
As I finished the ride, the pros were just leaving on their bikes. All decked out in the latest gear, riding bikes that cost more than my car and wearing helmets that make people mistake them for aliens, they fly by so quickly they are just a blur, and remind me why my calling in life was not to be a professional athlete.
I ride into the transition area and there is Steve! He’s already finished his race and is ready to do the run with me – now that’s support! I have to pee like crazy, but opt to skip the porta potties in the transition area because surely no one would have a race without potties on the run course. I’m questioning my sanity as I start the run and tell Steve “this is going to take a really long time”. As I leave the run area, I pretend that I’m a strong, fast runner and have plenty of energy to zip through the 10k run. I’m not about to admit to all the spectators that I drank too much Gatorade on the bike and feel like throwing up before I’ve even run a mile. Once we get through the crowded area and are on the dry, hot, desolate run course around the reservoir I ask Steve where the next porta potty is. “Uh, there aren’t any on the run course. “ I gaze into the distance looking for any semblance of cover; where is a tree when you need one? Steve let me know there were trees about 2 miles in, so that was motivation enough for me to run, not walk, to the trees. I’m not embarrassed to say I did take a side trip into the trees… On we go. At this point, I feel terrible – it’s hot, I hurt, I feel like throwing up, I have lactic acid cramps, and I’m having a great time. Steve is running beside me taking photos and keeping me company (I made him promise not to take photos of me walking so there wouldn’t be any evidence). Finally, the half way point and we get to turn around. I passed an 80 year old man (hooray for him!) that we joked with, I jogged as much as I could, and then we got to the 4 mile mark which is where the pro athletes turn around. Our pro friend Amanda Stevens was running the other way and we got to cheer her on and see the other pro athletes (I can’t even ride my bike as fast as they’re running!). As I ran the last 2 miles, we watched for Amanda to come up behind me so Steve could get a photo of me and Amanda running together! She zoomed by me at her turnaround as I made my final sprint to the finish. (She placed 2nd in the pro women’s division). I was so tired, I couldn’t take my chip off but wow that cold wet towel they threw over my shoulders at the finish was heaven!
Now that the race was over and I burned a whole lot of calories and energy, I immediately started contemplating all the sinful foods I can eat guilt free the rest of the day. Some people do races for the competition, some for the glory of standing on the winner’s podium, some to achieve their personal best… me? I do them so I can eat.
We stayed for the awards ceremony because my amazing husband placed 3rd in his age group and got an award. Watching the awards ceremony, I momentarily lapsed into a string of excuses of why I didn’t do better than last year:
1. I didn’t buy a cute new Tri outfit to wear
2. Steve made me get up at 2:30 AM so he could get his bike in the best spot in the transition area
3. I took time to spray down the racer next to me with sunscreen at the bike transition…
But then I remembered that my race was exactly the outcome that my training created. And I focused on how lucky I was to be able to even complete the race.
As we packed our gear I realized that packing the car for a triathlon is a lot like packing the car to go grocery shopping with an infant. We left and headed to the first 7-Eleven we could find – Steve for his beloved Mtn Dew and our friend Chuck and I headed for the ice cream and candy bars.
I was very happy with my race. I knew I hadn’t trained hard this year. Some days, my workout consisted of getting out of bed, on the better days I was able to make it to the gym for a 15 minute swim or 10 minute walk on the treadmill. Occasionally, my hormones were kind enough to be present, and I’d have an exhilarating workout and it was enough to refresh my enthusiasm and keep going. My race was a “learning to dance in the rain” race this year. My health is what it is right now and while I can’t say I enjoy the hell out of it every day, I can say I’m learning how to be where I am and discover the wisdom in it.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
New Fundraising Goal
At the Bike MS High Rollers group ride. Golden Colorado.Oh, the long days of summer! There's nothing like 80 degree Colorado days to put me in a good mood. I'm feeling better, finally have some energy and don't feel totally wiped out. Last Saturday I thought I recovered from my intestinal virus and went on the group bike ride. As the ride went along, I realized the feeling better was mostly in my mind, and my body didn't agree with my optimistic outlook. About 15 miles into the ride, after the nice hills at Garden of the Gods, my legs felt like butter, my lungs were gasping for air, and I did not have the strength to ride up one more bloody hill! I sent Steve and the group on their way and took the short cut home. Yes, I was able to eat real food, but I hadn't gotten my strength and stamina back enough to do a 35 miles bike ride.
As the week went on, I felt much better. I've modified my training plan so that it is in line with my plan of recognizing my limits. I’m riding less and not stressing about it when I do. I am biking and running slower and having more fun doing it. Yesterday, I drove to Golden and did a training ride organized by the MS Society for the 2008 High Rollers. High Rollers are people who raised at least $2000 last year. It was a stunning Colorado day; the kind we Coloradans brag about. We have had so much rain that everything is brilliant green, the wildflowers are blooming and the mountains are still topped with snow. I left home at 6 AM and took highway 85 through Sedalia to Golden. It was so nice to cruise along the Front Range, radio blaring, sing out of tune at the top of my lungs, and have the Colorado Rocky Mountains staring at me. The group bike ride was a beautiful 40 mile ride around Golden – up lots of hills which always make me question why I’m doing this, until I get to the top and get to cruise downhill (at a safe speed of course), and hearing Steve's voice yelling at me to "quite riding my brakes!".
I am making progress on my recovery plan as well. I’m saying no more and not feeling guilty. And I am enjoying the things I say yes to much more. My recovery plan involves recognizing my limits and my limits this year don’t include meeting my original goal of raising $10,000 for the Bike MS ride. I will do it someday, but not this year. I decided to drop my big fundraising event – the Swim Bark Run triathlon for dogs and their people. I am still in love with the idea, but decided not to take it on this year. Having cancelled that event, I’ve reset my fundraising goal to $2500 for this year. I’m at $1100 so far, and I hope you will help me get to new goal of $2500. Every dollar I raise brings us that much closer to our kids never having to hear the words "you have MS".
Sunday, May 24, 2009
My Recovery Plan
1. Recognize my limits
2. Say no when I’ve reached my limits
3. Don’t feel guilty when I say no
4. Spend time doing nothing
I am working hard on #2. In the past 2 weeks, I’ve de-committed on several things I had on my too long list of activities for this summer and the guilt didn’t last long. And I didn’t sign up for anything new: I sat on my hands and didn’t volunteer at Connor’s Ice Cream Social for new incoming IB high school students when they asked for parent volunteers for the IB Parent committee. I didn’t budge when Connor’s 8th grade class needed parent chaperones to Elitches (can you think of anything worse??). I didn’t plan more fundraising events for this summer when I thought of 34 more ideas to do so.
I was forced into #4 when I came down with an intestinal virus on Wednesday evening. One of those that comes from out of nowhere and knocks you flat on your back and makes you wonder if you’ll ever eat solid food again. 4 days later and I can finally sit upright for more than an hour. Steve and I walked at the middle school track so I could get some fresh air – 2 slow laps around the track and I was beat. One thing about being sick though, is you do sit and do nothing. I’ve had lots of hours to do nothing but think….
There are things I won’t give up though; things that give me energy, things that ground me and things that bring me a sense of calm. I won’t give up exercising, spending time with good friends in good conversation, or volunteering for causes I believe in. I’m anxious to get my strength back so I can get back on my bike and ride. I am still committed to the Bike MS and riding my 150 miles to raise money and awareness for Multiple Sclerosis. Having been stripped of my strength from this virus, I certainly have more empathy for those with MS whose energy and strength are compromised every day because of this disease. Help me help them by donating: http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR?px=4432348&pg=personal&fr_id=10973
2. Say no when I’ve reached my limits
3. Don’t feel guilty when I say no
4. Spend time doing nothing
I am working hard on #2. In the past 2 weeks, I’ve de-committed on several things I had on my too long list of activities for this summer and the guilt didn’t last long. And I didn’t sign up for anything new: I sat on my hands and didn’t volunteer at Connor’s Ice Cream Social for new incoming IB high school students when they asked for parent volunteers for the IB Parent committee. I didn’t budge when Connor’s 8th grade class needed parent chaperones to Elitches (can you think of anything worse??). I didn’t plan more fundraising events for this summer when I thought of 34 more ideas to do so.
I was forced into #4 when I came down with an intestinal virus on Wednesday evening. One of those that comes from out of nowhere and knocks you flat on your back and makes you wonder if you’ll ever eat solid food again. 4 days later and I can finally sit upright for more than an hour. Steve and I walked at the middle school track so I could get some fresh air – 2 slow laps around the track and I was beat. One thing about being sick though, is you do sit and do nothing. I’ve had lots of hours to do nothing but think….
There are things I won’t give up though; things that give me energy, things that ground me and things that bring me a sense of calm. I won’t give up exercising, spending time with good friends in good conversation, or volunteering for causes I believe in. I’m anxious to get my strength back so I can get back on my bike and ride. I am still committed to the Bike MS and riding my 150 miles to raise money and awareness for Multiple Sclerosis. Having been stripped of my strength from this virus, I certainly have more empathy for those with MS whose energy and strength are compromised every day because of this disease. Help me help them by donating: http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR?px=4432348&pg=personal&fr_id=10973
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Confessions of An Over-committer
It’s confession time. I have been over-committing myself for too long, I suppose, and it’s finally catching up to me. My body has been telling me since I finished my MBA almost 2 years ago that it needed a rest. But I didn’t listen…..
When I finished my MBA in August of 2007, I anticipated feeling great, having energy, having time on my hands and taking on all kinds of new things. But I didn’t feel great; I felt drained, fatigued, and tired. I went to the Doctor in December 2007 because I was still exhausted. Nothing could be found medically wrong, so I called upon my strengths – goal setting and perseverance, and decided to do the MS150, an Olympic Distance Triathlon and a ½ Ironman distance triathlon the summer of 2008 instead of slowing down and re-fueling my body. I did feel tired when I was training, but I did it and I loved each of the races I did.
At the end of last summer, my mom told me I was doing too much. But I didn’t listen. I took on extra projects at work in the fall. I started piano lessons. Steve started working full time. I was elected to the MS Society Board of Directors. I started making big plans for summer of 2009; what could I do that was even more challenging I asked myself. And I was exhausted. Back to the Dr.; still nothing is medically wrong. So I add more professionals to my wellness team! Now, I’m seeing an acupuncturist, my chiropractor, my masseuse on a regular basis. I’m reading whatever I can get my hands on. I’m eating more spinach and taking more vitamins and minerals and supplements and drinking herbal tonics that taste so bad I have to drink them with a strong juice chaser. I’m mixing so many things in my protein drinks in the morning that my digestive tract should be as clean as brand new plumbing. I’m making things that make Dylan gag (“mom, you’ve stooped to an all time low” was Dylan’s reaction to me starting to make my own carrot juice concoctions.) I should be feeling great!
Steve told me I was doing too much. But I didn’t listen. It’s January of 2009 and now, I’m so fatigued, there are Sundays when I can’t get out of a prone position (and that’s my long run day!), and I’m scheduling time on my calendar at work to take naps in my car. I’m making it to the gym only to swim or walk on the treadmill 10 minutes. This must mean only one thing; I don’t have enough to do! I’m not accomplishing enough! So, I commit to doing my own MS fundraiser – a triathlon for dogs. I sign up for the Boulder Peak Triathlon and Connor is talking to me about doing an ½ marathon with him. Work has gotten crazier that I could imagine.
Can you see the pattern here? Since everyone but me can see the pattern (even Connor told me “Mom, you should haven’t taken that promotion!”), I go see more doctors and read more books. Because I SHOULD be able to do it all! And I love everything I’m doing! So, what’s wrong with me??
The doctors call it being a female in her mid-forties, hyperthyroidism, adrenal fatigue, and hormonal changes. My self diagnosis is over commitment-itis, and achievement addiction. My first step to recovery is to admit I have a problem. So, here’s my public confession. I have a problem with wanting to do too much.
I’ll tell you about my recovery plan in my next installment; I can’t write about it today, because I have too much to do. I’ll give you a hint about what I am still committed to though: I plan on riding in the Bike MS this year and you can support me in my recovery plan by donating to the MS Society by clicking on this link: http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR?px=4432348&pg=personal&fr_id=10973
When I finished my MBA in August of 2007, I anticipated feeling great, having energy, having time on my hands and taking on all kinds of new things. But I didn’t feel great; I felt drained, fatigued, and tired. I went to the Doctor in December 2007 because I was still exhausted. Nothing could be found medically wrong, so I called upon my strengths – goal setting and perseverance, and decided to do the MS150, an Olympic Distance Triathlon and a ½ Ironman distance triathlon the summer of 2008 instead of slowing down and re-fueling my body. I did feel tired when I was training, but I did it and I loved each of the races I did.
At the end of last summer, my mom told me I was doing too much. But I didn’t listen. I took on extra projects at work in the fall. I started piano lessons. Steve started working full time. I was elected to the MS Society Board of Directors. I started making big plans for summer of 2009; what could I do that was even more challenging I asked myself. And I was exhausted. Back to the Dr.; still nothing is medically wrong. So I add more professionals to my wellness team! Now, I’m seeing an acupuncturist, my chiropractor, my masseuse on a regular basis. I’m reading whatever I can get my hands on. I’m eating more spinach and taking more vitamins and minerals and supplements and drinking herbal tonics that taste so bad I have to drink them with a strong juice chaser. I’m mixing so many things in my protein drinks in the morning that my digestive tract should be as clean as brand new plumbing. I’m making things that make Dylan gag (“mom, you’ve stooped to an all time low” was Dylan’s reaction to me starting to make my own carrot juice concoctions.) I should be feeling great!
Steve told me I was doing too much. But I didn’t listen. It’s January of 2009 and now, I’m so fatigued, there are Sundays when I can’t get out of a prone position (and that’s my long run day!), and I’m scheduling time on my calendar at work to take naps in my car. I’m making it to the gym only to swim or walk on the treadmill 10 minutes. This must mean only one thing; I don’t have enough to do! I’m not accomplishing enough! So, I commit to doing my own MS fundraiser – a triathlon for dogs. I sign up for the Boulder Peak Triathlon and Connor is talking to me about doing an ½ marathon with him. Work has gotten crazier that I could imagine.
Can you see the pattern here? Since everyone but me can see the pattern (even Connor told me “Mom, you should haven’t taken that promotion!”), I go see more doctors and read more books. Because I SHOULD be able to do it all! And I love everything I’m doing! So, what’s wrong with me??
The doctors call it being a female in her mid-forties, hyperthyroidism, adrenal fatigue, and hormonal changes. My self diagnosis is over commitment-itis, and achievement addiction. My first step to recovery is to admit I have a problem. So, here’s my public confession. I have a problem with wanting to do too much.
I’ll tell you about my recovery plan in my next installment; I can’t write about it today, because I have too much to do. I’ll give you a hint about what I am still committed to though: I plan on riding in the Bike MS this year and you can support me in my recovery plan by donating to the MS Society by clicking on this link: http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR?px=4432348&pg=personal&fr_id=10973
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Setting Really Big Goals
Last month when I rode with Phil Keoghan I was really inspired that he is riding across America to raise awareness and money for MS. He doesn’t have MS, he doesn’t have a family member with MS; he just joined the cause. He has ridden on a Bike MS team in California and he gets many, many requests for contributions to all kinds of great causes. He decided to make MS his cause and focus his charitable contributions to this cause. I picked up his book that weekend (NOW – No Opportunity Wasted), and finished reading it that week and passed it on to Steve. He writes about challenging yourself and setting big goals. I have done a lot of reading about goal setting and know that in order to achieve really big things, you have to set really big goals, bigger than you think you’re capable of. I have had great fun setting and achieving my goals in the past; this year I set a really audacious fundraising goal of raising $10,000 for the National MS Society. I have no idea how I’m going to raise this much money. I have no idea where all the money is going to come from. I don’t know exactly how I will get over my reluctance to ask for donations. But I do know that there are people with MS who are challenged just to walk; my only challenge is to raise a few dollars and ride my bike a few miles. And if I meet my goal, we are one step closer to finding a cure for MS …..
Sunday, April 19, 2009
NMSS Colorado Chapter Board of Trustees
As a new member on the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, Colorado Chapter Board of Trustees, I have a new appreciation for all the work the society does. I have learned a bit more about what goes on behind the scenes at a nonprofit organization and am impressed with the dedication of the staff here and the diligence with which they watch their finances and use their funds. More on that later…..
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Another Indoor Ride...
It is STILL snowing in Colorado Springs! This is the 3rd weekend in a row we did our group ride indoors due to inclement weather. It started snowing Thursday evening and it's been snowing/raining/hailing since then. We had more sunny warm days in February! Steve led us through a good indoor workout anyway and my legs are burning this afternoon!
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Riding with Phil Keoghan
Carie Nolan (MS Society Colorado Chapter President, Michele, Phil Keoghan, and Whit Conant (another MS Board Member)
I got to ride with Phil Keoghan today! Phil Keoghan is the host of The Amazing Race and is doing a ride across America to raise funds and awareness for MS. I have to admit though, that I had never heard of the Amazing Race or Phil until he started his ride. I’m taping the show tonight and will watch it for the first time! Phil has chosen MS as his cause and he’s riding across to support the cause. Despite the rain, cold temps (I think it might have gotten up to 35 degrees) and wind (25 mph!), hundreds of people came out to see Phil and about 40 hearty rides rode with him for 10 miles. I did the bike ride and got to spend about 2 minutes during the bike ride talking to Phil. I told him about my amazing husband Steve and his MS story and thanked Phil for supporting the cause.
http://www.philridesacrossamerica.com/
http://philridesacrossamerica.com/daily_blog.html (day 13 is Fairplay to Denver, Day 15 is Denver to Ft Morgan)
http://www.philridesacrossamerica.com/
http://philridesacrossamerica.com/daily_blog.html (day 13 is Fairplay to Denver, Day 15 is Denver to Ft Morgan)
I'm in the video on Day 15 - at the beginning, in the bright yellow jersey with TriForMS on the back. My 15 seconds of fame!!
http://cbs4denver.com/video (Wet Start for Phil’s Bike Ride)
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Training Must Go On
Will it ever stop snowing? Training can’t stop just because it snowing though. Steve, Tracker and I did the Incline today. We waited and waited as the forecasters said the wind would stop blowing and the temps would rise….. Finally left at 1PM and as we got to the top of the Incline it started lightly snowing and was beautiful! This climb/jog/run is Steve and I’s favorite workout to do, however Tracker’s enthusiasm for doing the Incline tops anyone’s. He dances, wines, jumps, barks, prances and generally does anything to express his sheer joy at running and hiking in the great outdoors.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
First Group Ride - Indoors!
TriForMS bike team held their first group ride – indoors! You just never know what the weather will be like. We had a great indoor spin class though, and Steve took time to do some bike fits while we were riding. A great way to kick off the biking season!
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