becoming an ultramarathoner!

"I learned long ago that in endurance sports, when dark times come, the only way to keep going is to block out all thoughts, especially when they turn negative, and stay in the moment. You focus on the here and now, not the finish, not anything else. Breath, feel it, step, repeat." 

~Thor Kirleis, Trail Animals Running Club (TARC) member, from his blog post 

"In the Moment: The TARC 100" about doing the TARC 100 miler

On Saturday, October 19th I became an ultramarathoner! I finished a 50K (or 31 mile) trail run at the TARC Fall Classic - not even close to the 100 miler that Thor and other folks attempt and complete, but a remarkable adventure and accomplishment nonetheless! I honestly believe I could not have done it without the variety of support shown to me over the last few months and during the race. I wasn't even sure I would make it to the start line when I was sidelined by biopsies and excisions, then at home with my sick little guy the day before the race. I was so grateful, though incredibly nervous to start that race with Amy at 8:15am on a beautiful, cool, New England fall day.

The TARC Fall Classic offers four distances. Of the 245 animals who finished the races they registered for, 70 completed the 10K, 92 completed the half marathon, 28 completed the marathon and 55 of the craziest animals completed the 50K. Amy and I took on the 50K, which was five loops of a 10K course that was described as "relatively flat" but was absolutely not for us 50K first-timers!

Loop 1 & 2
The first two loops were pretty easy. As advised before and during the race, we kept a steady, easy pace - 12 minute miles - and walked most of the hills, which often came with a lot of rocks, boulders and roots. We finished both loops 10 minutes under our goal time, which was to finish the entire 50K in a very modest seven hours. After a pit stop with our pit crew member Tina who reported our time, refilled our water bottles and made sure we had something to eat, Amy and I ran off to conquer loop 3 with smiles on our faces and a little dance in our stride. We were feeling confident, although I knew from other more experienced trail runners that the next three loops would get increasingly more difficult.

Loop 3
It felt harder to maintain our 12 minute per mile pace, mostly because I started getting dizzy. I'm not sure why this happened because I know that I was fueling enough and properly. I stopped a couple of times to lean over to try to get a little more blood to my head. I took lots of deep, mindful breaths and did my best to simply stay in the moment. I think it was during this loop that we ran across several large groups who were not part of the event but instead were out for a casual meander through the woods. I would politely say, "On your left, on your left" hoping that they would move to the right as I was running up behind them. When that didn't work, Amy would yell, "That means move over to your right!" It felt like she was my personal security guard out there! I was so incredibly lucky to be doing this with someone. Amy had never run more than eight miles when I asked her at the beginning of the summer to do this event with me, but I knew she had the right attitude to take this on. About four miles into this loop, Amy told me, "I think this will be my last loop, hon." I started to get a little discouraged because I knew how much I was relying on her company, energy, sense of humor and attitude. She was being smart though. The deal was for either of us to drop if we felt we were going to incur severe injury, and Amy was having severe pain in her feet, ankles and knees. Despite her pain and my dizziness, again we came in ten minutes under our goal time for that loop! 18.6 miles done! This was the longest Amy had ever run! She set a distance PR and I was so proud of her! I still had 12.4 miles to cover. I refueled. I was worried and tears started to form. I looked at Tina and told her, "Tell me something." She said, "You have two legs. Get going." So I did.  

Loop 4
I knew I had to find another way to approach this loop by myself. I felt miserable. I was not having fun. So, I decided to change my approach and I began walking very fast, looking up, enjoying the scenery, smiling, taking more deep, mindful breaths and reminding myself that it was my choice to be out there and I could do it any way I wanted. I also used a tip given to me by one of my Team Unthinkables teammates, which was to imagine my favorite place and all the details about it. I imagined this moment:

Brea & Casey playing on Maho Bay beach | February 2013

I was really looking forward to seeing Brea and my mom who arrived while I was running this loop. (Casey was at a soccer game.) I focused on that.  

Just as I finished loop 4, I saw Brea with her head full of whipped cream from a church pie throwing fundraising event she had just come from. I was so happy to see my girl and my mom! I thanked them both for being there and the driver who brought them, Becky, one of my bootcampers and new trail running buddies. Then my attention turned towards who, if anyone, would run the last loop with me. My knee had started hurting and I hadn't seen too many people left on the course. I knew that I would benefit from some company on my final, lonely loop. I looked to Amy. She said, "Your wife has volunteered to run the last loop with you!" I was a little surprised and incredibly relieved. I don't think she imagined she'd be running any of this course with me after she almost divorced me for making her run the course earlier in the week! I guess she figured that she could keep up with my pace that was slowed down by 25 miles!

The Last Loop
I was so grateful to have Tina and her sense of humor out there. We didn't see anyone on the course! We walked a lot. My very sore knee prevented me from running much, especially down any hills, which became painful to even walk. I can push through being tired, but I refuse to push through pain, especially in my knees. We talked a lot. I enjoyed hearing about her experience as a spectator and we made up ridiculous events for the most extreme obstacle course we could imagine, which was entertaining, comical and distracting. It was nice to share some of this event with her in this way. As we got within two miles of the finish, I started smiling and saying, "I'm going to finish! I'm going to finish! I'm going to become an ultramarathoner!" I already started getting emotional about finishing my first ultramarathon, something I once could never imagine doing. I made a deal to run the entire last mile around a big, open field. It was very slow. There were a couple of inclines. I did not stop. I was so hopeful for the finish line. I saw Brea running towards me 100 yards from the finish. I was so happy! I started running faster. I took her hand, lifted it over my head and sprinted to the finish, smiling, 7 hours and 13 minutes after I began! This was the absolute best part of the race! Then I bent over and started sobbing with pride, relief and gratitude. I saw Jim, whose idea it was for me to run an ultramarathon, and he gave me the best hug and didn't let go while I cried and cried. He said, "I never doubted you." Indeed. I ran some trails with him a couple of times while training. He did not give up on me. Even when I told him I didn't think I could do the ultramarathon because of my biopsies and excisions, he was patient and said, "Let's see how things go." And then I hugged my mom, who reminded me again, "You always underestimate yourself. I'm proud of you!" And then I hugged Tina and Amy and Becky. Every one of them a significant part of my crew who helped me to finish my first ultramarathon! THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. It was a remarkable adventure!

Momma

Brea

Tina

Jim

Amy

Becky

Post-Ultramarathon Feet :) 

And thank you to every one else who made donations to my Team Unthinkables campaign for the Scott Rigsby Foundation and who supported me in other ways, as well - Sharon, Shona, Ann-Marie, Brian, Teri, Jen, Mag, Denise, Jeff, Keith, Drita, Cindy, Beth, Josh, Dana, Ben, Skyler, Somya, Kelly, Chris, Deanna, Charlotte, Nancy, Paul, Thor and Kim. THANK YOU.

"Whatever you meet unexpectedly, join with meditation." 

~ from The Seven Points of Mind Training

"Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go." 

~T. S. Eliot

running with stitches, finding a way

"It doesn't matter ... what you come up against because none of it's going to be pleasant. You're hardly ever out there going, 'Oh, my God, isn't it a beautiful moon tonight?' The crew is feeling that. But you're kind of suffering through the whole thing. So my thought was, 'Everything you come up against say -- and this is why people are relating to my story -- all of us suffer heartache. All of us suffer difficulties in our lives. And if you say to yourself 'Find a way,' you'll make it through." This is what 64 year old Diana Nyad said last week after swimming for 53 hours to become the first person to swim the 110-mile Florida Strait from Cuba to Florida without a shark tank. She dealt with jelly fish, sharks, vomiting, dehydration and more to accomplish this on her fifth attempt over 30 years. "Find a way." This is a great mantra.   

On the same day that I read this quote last week, I got a phone call from my doctor that would leave me trying to find my way through something new. Let me back up a few weeks to July 29th. 

On a Monday in late July I went to see a dermatologist for what I thought would be a routine visit. I noticed a suspicious mole and my primary care doctor wanted me to get a second opinion. I totally expected the dermatologist to reassure me that it was nothing; instead, she said she wanted to remove and biopsy the mole for melanoma that day. I was a little shocked of the suddenness and possible severity of this. Melanoma is the rarest, but deadliest of the skin cancers. I agreed to have the mole removed until I heard that I wouldn't be able to exercise or, specifically, swim for two weeks and would need to be seen 10 - 14 days after to have stitches removed. I then went on to explain how I had a two mile fundraising swim to tackle and a week-long family vacation in Nantucket to enjoy and that getting a biopsy would interfere (Hello Dawna. Having cancer would interfere with life! But I had my mind set.). The doctor reluctantly allowed me to leave the office without a biopsy, but with one scheduled for as soon as I got back from Nantucket. I proudly did my first two mile swim while raising some money for The Scott Rigsby Foundation and I thoroughly enjoyed my time with my family and in the water in Nantucket, though well slathered in sunscreen and covered up. I gambled it would be nothing and that four weeks would not make a difference. I don't think my mother was too happy with this decision.   

Four weeks later, on a Thursday, I had the biopsy and left the office with several stitches in my shoulder, a melanoma pamphlet in my hand, worries in my head and my mom by my side. The doctor told me not to exercise for two weeks. I told her about teaching bootcamp and training for a my first 31 mile trail ultramarathon in October. She could tell that I was not going to let stitches stop me from most of this. Two days later I ran 18 trail miles with my friend and ultramarathon mentor, Jim. I told him that I'd bring the needle and thread in case I popped a stitch, which is what my doctor said might happen when I told her I wasn't going to take her advice and not exercise for two weeks. Jim said he'd bring a stapler instead - much quicker and more efficient. Staple me up and get back on the trail. Popping a stitch became the least of my worries on that difficult 3 1/2 hour run, which was a convenient distraction from a possible melanoma diagnosis. Then I waited for the results, which I was told might take up to two weeks.    

After a week of waiting, I called the doctor's office last Thursday morning. She called me back that evening and started in with a lengthy explanation of what I had. She told me that the mole was "severely atypical," which is one step away from melanoma and that she wanted to do another, larger excision of around four inches within the next few weeks. Although, from what I've read, most severely atypical moles do not become melanoma, they are often treated as such by aggressive dermatologists to account for what my dermatologist called "a margin of error." This is gray area. It's the best of bad news, I suppose. Now I am uncertain about the next steps. Do I get the next excision? Probably. My mother would likely kill me if I didn't! When do I get it? If I get it prior to October 19th, I likely won't be able to do the ultramarathon since the incision will be larger and take longer to heal, which means a recommended four weeks of no exercise (but now you see how I deal with doctor's recommendations). Can I time the surgery during one of my low mileage weeks and get back on the trails after a week? Can I find a way through and around this? Should I use this as an excuse to relax on the weekends and not do my 3+ hour training runs that I struggle with and postpone becoming an ultramarathoner another year? I just don't know. I don't like the gray areas without a clear answer or path. A few friends and family are advising me to get it taken care of as soon as possible, including, interestingly, my ex-husband who reminded me that it only takes one melanoma cell to begin to wreak havoc on the body. Tina is solidly supporting whatever decision I make. My mom has started calling on mutual friends to lobby me to do what she wants me to do - to get it taken care of as soon as possible. She's as stubborn as me. 

Stupid cancer. I didn't think navigating decisions around detecting and preventing cancer would be one of the adventures I'd write about in this blog because, really, cancer isn't much of an adventure that anyone enjoys. Alas, it seems that cancer is breathing down so many people's necks these days, including mine. Stupid cancer is quietly knocking at the door. I do not want to let it in like Rumi's guest*. It will sit on my front porch determined to teach me its lesson - to be fully engaged and grateful, to be humble, to reassess my priorities, to redefine myself, to find another way. 

*Guest House
by Jelaluddin Rumi

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.

meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

wrestling with my first two mile swim

I did my first two mile open water swim on August 4th at the Wild Fish Swim in Salem, MA. It was only two years ago that I thought swimming two miles was impossible. I was in awe of people who just swam one mile. I never imagined I'd do this, but you surround yourself with certain people, open yourself up to inspiring stories of perseverance and then, Whala!, you begin to feel inspired and to believe that anything is possible with enough time and patience.

My first goal for this swim was to finish. Beyond that I wanted to keep an even pace, to finish under 1:30 (1 hour and 30 minutes) and, hopefully, not be last. I was nervous when I started and I wrestled with uncertainty about the event and my capabilities before and during the race. I paced myself at every half mile, which means I only looked at my watch when I hit each half mile buoy.

For the first half mile, I concentrated on finding my pace and my space. It was important for me to get in my own "lane" and to feel that I was just out for a really long training swim. I had reluctantly done all of my training swims by myself, so this was familiar territory. In that first half mile I repeatedly counted three breaths and then sighted a course marker, usually one of several large, orange buoys. When I got to the first half mile buoy I was at 20 minutes. In the second half mile, I repeated with every breath "present moment, wonderful moment, all is well" and then I sighted a course marker. At mile one I was at 39 minutes. I wanted to be under 45 minutes, so I was pleased, but then I started getting a little discouraged and distracted. My mind started to wander to all sorts of things - a fight I had with my daughter, a biopsy I postponed to do this swim, insufficient sleep, mom and Tina waiting on the beach, how tired I felt and about another mile still left to swim. Then my mind wandered to Scott Rigsby, who has done his own "unthinkable," and to his foundation, which supports people with loss of limb and/or mobility and for which I was raising money with this swim. I thought about the people who made donations to me as part of the Scott Rigsby Foundation's Team Unthinkables and, in particular, about Ben, who recently lost his wife to cancer, donated a generous amount and wrote to me, "You get on with your bad self!" And I remembered what John Young, a one mile swimmer racing for the Challenged Athletes Foundation, told me on the beach, "When you get to mile one, keep swimming!" At the 1.5 mile marker, my watch revealed it was my slowest half mile at 21 minutes. Time to focus! I got on with my bad self, told myself to use my legs more and tried to pass other swimmers until I finished. I successfully passed at least two swimmers and had my eye on another in the last quarter mile, but I just couldn't pass her. She was a great pacer and helped me finish under 1:30. I congratulated her when we were both on the beach.    

Once I hit the beach and crossed the finish line timing mat, I was surprised by how weak my legs were and how dizzy I felt. I had never felt that in training. My mom said that the race director told the crowd to watch for the "2 o'clock walk" of the two mile swimmers. In other words, we would be stumbling as if we had enjoyed one too many drinks and were coming out of a bar at 2am. My mom said some of the swimmers actually fell down as soon as they got out of the water and tried to stand up. I made it past the finish line, congratulated the woman who finished before me, a volunteer removed my timing chip and then I gladly sat down. When I tried to stand back up, I felt like I was going to fall down. I sat back down for quite a bit longer, while my mom and Tina - my #1 and #2 fans - patiently waited. They have supported me at many races and I am deeply grateful for them.  

With a time of 1:19:31, I finished 66th out of 74 two mile swimmers. The 74th swimmer came out of the water with her arms in the air, jogging towards the finish line mat and saying, "I won! I won!" She won by finishing, just finishing. Everyone was cheering for her. The female winner in my age division in the two mile swim finished in 1:03:40 and the overall female winner in the two mile swim finished in 49:40 and was 27 years old. The 3rd place female winner in my age division in the one mile swim finished in 37:26, which was just slightly faster than my 39:00 one mile split time and makes me think I have a shot at being on the one mile podium next year and winning a pint glass :)

It's a week later and my neck is still sore. My butt and legs are sore too, but I think that is from the 12 mile trail run I did today... Time to get ready for my first 50K trail run in October. That's 31 miles. What?!? I think I'll be making this same face then.

Feeling nervous before the swim.

Finishing well below my 1:30 goal time. 

Recovering after the swim while mom
stands by with her umbrella. 

training to be a ninja

I'm almost three months into my Ninja training at Revolution Martial Fitness. Sensei Paul recently asked, "So what do you think so far?" I can't say that I feel even close to being a Ninja, but perhaps I've at least stepped on the road to becoming a martial artist. Here are some of my thoughts on strength gains, grappling, self-defense, my training partners and more.

I've gained upper body strength, specifically in my upper back (i.e., trapezius, latissimus dorsi, teres minor and major, rhomboids), probably from doing push-ups, carrying and throwing sand bells, and punching the bags - some combination of which is required at the beginning of every class for about 20 - 30 minutes prior to getting into the more technical martial arts material. I've probably also gained some lower body strength, but it's hard to tell since that is my area of strength as a result of frequent, long-term running.

Grappling, which is a fancy name for rolling around on the floor with someone and trying to defend yourself while they try to attack or submit you, has not been as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. Some of the other beginner adult students have commented similarly. I feared that my body might unintentionally remember some past trauma and that the grappling would get uncomfortable, but that hasn't happened. I'll attribute this to the great partners I've had in this latest adventure over the last three months. I genuinely like and trust my beginner and intermediate partners. They put me at ease as we laugh our way through awkward, vulnerable positions that place chests in faces, knees between legs and hands everywhere! Thank you Alyssa, Amy, Chelsea, Deanna and Heather! You make this journey worthwhile and fun! (And Leo, I haven't forgotten you and all of your witty remarks and support along the way! But I think I'm glad that I haven't been partnered with you...yet!)

In terms of feeling confident that I could defend myself, I have a long way to go. However, after three months I can say that I have at least learned to be more mindful of my surroundings, to place my hands near my face if confronted by a suspicious stranger so that I'm ready to protect my head and face, and that my elbow can be a powerful weapon.

The hardest part has been remembering all the steps involved in strike combinations, take downs, standing grab defenses, wrist grab releases, and ground techniques. Out of a fear of practicing something incorrectly, I spend a lot of time and energy worrying about the exact steps of what I'm learning. Obviously this is much different and harder than simply lacing up my sneakers and going out for a run. Sensei Paul recently advised that I relax and trust myself. Aha! Trust myself! This is an ongoing theme in my life. My 69 year old mom is still telling her 44 year old daughter, "You always underestimate yourself and you always exceed your expectations!" Well, almost always. I reply that setting the bar high for myself is part of my strategy for doing well, but it can sometimes push me towards so much anxiety that I begin to doubt myself, which can prevent me from doing my best. Coincidentally the day that Sensei Paul gave the advice to trust myself and simply try the form/technique, I had just spent the morning swimming across Walden Pond and back (a total of a little more than a mile) without the buoyancy of a wetsuit for the first time. While I was out there by myself, I realized that I could not doubt myself, that I simply had to keep swimming. This lesson of trusting myself, letting go and moving forward is one that I apparently need to keep relearning in new and varied settings until finally I get it.

In the end, I'm learning something new and that every time, "I can do better!" I'm learning new skills to make my mind and body stronger. I'm making new friends and having fun. I am grateful for this opportunity. Thank you, Sensei Paul! You are a generous, fun and wise Sensei, boss and friend!

smashing my triathlon personal record!

I'm thrilled to say again that I'm another year older and a bit faster in the Cohasset Triathlon! Yesterday - Sunday, June 30th - I completed and smashed my previous personal record at my third Cohasset Triathlon - a 1/4 mile swim, 12 mile bike and 3.2 mile run. This is how it went down!

Race Morning
On Saturday I gave due diligence to my race-delicate gastrointestinal system and ate six cups of rice and four bananas, drank lots of water and cherry juice (anti-inflammatory), packed all my gear, ran through the transitions and events in my mind, tried to keep my nerves at bay with a lot of deep breathing and time with my kids, and went to bed at 9:30pm. I did not sleep well and was happy to wake up just prior to my 4:30am alarm. After you finish your training for an event, the waiting for the event is one of the hardest parts. You must trust that you've done everything you could to prepare and simply wait and hope for the best on race day. I woke feeling healthy and hopeful that I could beat last year's time of 1:27:45. I had my usual morning vegan shake - dates, banana, hemp seeds, maca powder, soy milk, ice & water without the usual almonds - and we were off!

Tina and I picked up my friend Helen at 5am. She had graciously offered to be my run pacer. The run is one of the hardest parts for me due to the weather being warm (I do not like to run fast in any temperature above 60!), the course being hilly and my love/hate relationship with running. I knew if I was going to beat my time from last year that I'd need some help on those hills, so I bribed Helen with the promise of post-race lobster and beer :) This, as it turned out, was a very smart move.

We arrived at the race parking lot at 6:15am with plenty of time to get to the race site and to set up my transition area. I had not thoroughly thought out my supplemental clothing and when I reached into my bag to get out my long-sleeve shirt to wear for the bike ride to the race site, I found that I had unknowingly packed my 12 year old daughter's Hogwarts shirt! I took it as a good omen that I was going to perform some magic on the course that day!

It was a partly cloudy day with air temperatures in the low 80's, winds at 18 mph and water temperatures in the low 60's. When I arrived at the race site, I saw Dick and Ricky Hoyt. They are in many local races and have done the Cohasset Triathlon numerous times. It is always reassuring to see them. I set up my transition area with my bike and run gear, put on my wetsuit, planned a run strategy with Helen, found out that Tina would be volunteering at the bike dismount area, grabbed a 1/4 cup of regular coffee with cane sugar and soy milk (A big treat and part of my race strategy since I rarely have regular coffee and had been abstaining from all caffeine - and alcohol - for a week.) and went to "warm-up" in the shockingly cold ocean. In the past two years I did not completely submerge my head during the swim warm-up. I submerged my head several times this year and I think it helped me be more relaxed at the beginning of my race swim. Then I waited for my wave time of 7:54am. I chose to start with the "Novice" swimmers this year - those who could not complete the swim in less than 10 minutes. Again, the waiting is the hardest part.

The Swim
My swim was the best swim I've had so far. I felt more prepared for the cold; was able to stay away from most of the crowd, which means I wasn't constantly getting hit, banged or swam into; and told myself "Present moment, wonderful moment" and "You got this!" as I swam. A couple of times I did the breast stroke or tread water for a few seconds to catch my breath, but for the majority of the swim I was able to swim freestyle, which was an improvement over the last two years when I got so flustered by getting knocked around by the crowd that I did every possible stroke! My goal was to swim as long as I could towards the beach and to finish under 11 minutes. Towards the end, a woman kept swimming into me, so I decided to start running towards the beach as soon as the water was shallow enough instead of repeatedly trying to swim away from her. This might have cost me a few seconds, but I was still able to finish my swim under 11 minutes so I was satisfied. I ran to my transition area and got ready for the bike race.

The Bike
I decided to dedicate the bike portion of the race to Kris, a friend who had recently died of cancer. I was missing her memorial service to be at this race. After explaining to her husband Ben, he wrote, "The athlete in Kris wouldn't dream of having you miss a race. Kick butt and have fun!" So, I did. I placed Kris's name on the stem of my bike and occasionally looked at it during the race and pushed myself to ride a little bit faster and harder. I also tried to shift gears and pedal more often on the downhill instead of coasting. I don't like going too fast on the downhill and often start braking. Tina encouraged me to "Suck it up and pedal on the downhill!" At the bottom of one of the hills I saw and gave a high five to my friend and Cohasset resident, Michelle. It's always helpful to see and hear a friendly face on the course. Thanks Michelle! I knew I'd need to maintain a 17.5 mph pace to finish at 41 minutes. When I arrived at the race dismount area, saw Tina waving her big orange flag motioning me to slow down and dismount, and heard her excitedly and somewhat embarrassingly yell "That's my wife!", I saw that my pace was 17.4, which gave me a 41:19 bike time. That was good enough. I ran my bike to my transition area and got ready for the hardest part of the race.

The Run
Helen was waiting for me at the end of the run chute. I was so happy to see her! I looked at my total time and knew that we'd have to maintain a 9:30 minute mile pace to beat my time from last year. With fresh legs I can run the course at an 8:52 pace, but my legs were far from fresh so I thought a 9:30 pace was a reasonable expectation. Helen wore my Garmin watch and kept track of our run pace time, while I wore a watch for my overall race time. It was on the warm side. I was feeling tired and like I was barely running at the beginning. Two minutes in, I asked Helen what our pace was thinking that we must be starting out very slow. I was encouraged to hear that we were starting at a 9:05 pace. This gave me some time to play with and would allow me to slow down on the nine hills in the next 3.2 miles without sacrificing a good run time. The hills were brutal. There is one particularly long, steep hill at mile two which I had walked in the previous two years that I told Helen that I did not want to walk this year. She ran ahead of me and kept saying, "C'mon Dawna! You can do this! C'mon Dawna!" getting me up that hill and all the rest at a slow running pace. After that hill and two miles in, Helen started saying, in a slightly angry voice, "We're way behind Dawna! Pick it up!" I didn't know it then, but Helen was lying! Her version of "way behind" was a 9:30 pace - my target pace! Fearing that I must be running in the 10 minute range, I picked up my pace. In the last 1/4 mile she told me to sprint, to pass her and to finish under 30 minutes. It's hard to sprint at the end of a triathlon when you feel that you've fought for every second. I kicked it in for maybe the last 100 yards and finished with a 9:20 pace and a 30:43 time. I looked at my total time on my watch and knew that I had beat last year's time! I was thrilled! Helen had done her job and done it well! I suspect I would have walked on that hill again or slowed down significantly if it hadn't been for her encouragement and lies! Thank you Helen!

The Results
I was so relieved to be finished with my third Cohasset Triathlon, but knew that I'd feel much better once I saw the official results. About ten minutes after finishing the race, Helen and I walked to the results monitor and patiently waited to see my official finish time. 1:26:11! I had improved by 00:01:34 over last year, which was a much larger improvement than I was expecting. Admittedly, I felt emotional and started tearing up a bit. I worked so hard to improve, while still being just an average triathlete. I was happy, relieved and proud! I gave Helen many sweaty hugs :) Below are my results from all three years.

2011 - 2013 Cohasset Triathlon Results

The Celebration

Now I could relax. Helen and I walked towards the end of the run course and cheered on the runners finishing up. I love doing that! We cheered the Hoyts to the finish, packed up and walked the 1.5 miles back to the race parking lot with Tina. We drove to and had lunch on the deck at the Olde Salt House. I celebrated with fish tacos, salad, french fries and a beer. It was a great finish to a great day! 

I think I might be finished with this race. I feel like I can barely handle the logistics and the pressure I put on myself to beat my time each year and, honestly, I'm not sure I can beat this year's time. However, looking at the results from the last three years, I see there is room for improvement in the bike and next year I'll be in a new age division... So, maybe... Or maybe I'll go and return the favor and pace a runner and enjoy the views and the race from another angle. Anyone?!? This is a well-organized, supportive, beautiful race! Sign up will be in December 2013 or January 2014! 

On a final note, I ran this race as part of Team Unthinkables and one of the four events that I will do this year to raise money for The Scott Rigsby Foundation. Setting another personal record at this race was one of my "unthinkables." Thank you to those who supported me and made a donation! Your words of encouragement mean so much and make a huge difference. I am deeply grateful.

What's next?!?

#1 Fan Tina & #1 Run Pacer Helen!

Thrilled with my finish time of 1:26:11!

Dick & Rick Hoyt running to the finish!

training for a triathlon PR

Wonder how I train for a triathlon (and a 2 mile swim and a half marathon and a 31 mile trail run)? It's often less than ideal in terms of quantity since I'm trying to juggle three part-time jobs and a family, but I try to put in maximum effort when I do make the time to train or, as Sensei Paul says, "level 10 effort!" When I'm training for a triathlon, I'm satisfied if I get three to four workouts in each week - a bike, a swim, a run and a "brick" where I do two activities consecutively, ideally a bike followed by a run since that is the hardest transition to make during the triathlon. Last week was one of those less than ideal weeks for pure triathlon training, but I kept moving. I'm currently training for my third Cohasset Triathlon (1/4 mile swim, 12 mile bike, 3.2 mile run) on June 30th, while keeping the training for my hardest and last event of the next five months  - a 31 mile trail run in October - on the back burner.  I'm also one month into the beginning of martial arts lessons at Revolution Martial Fitness. Here is what my training week looked like last week.

SUNDAY 6/16: Cohasset course 15 minute swim & 3.3 mile hilly run at an 8:52 pace (For me, anything faster than a 9:15 pace is pushing it.)

MONDAY 6/17: 60 minute martial arts class full of push-ups, v-sits, crunches, and Jiu Jitsu Trap Roll Escapes (Think intense wrestling!)

TUESDAY 6/18: Morning track workout - 2 miles of Fartlek-style interval laps, 50 overhead tricep extensions with weights, 50 crunches, 100 side step-ups with weights. Evening workout - 60 minute martial arts class full of push-ups, v-sits, crunches, and Jiu Jitsu Trap Roll Escapes.

WEDNESDAY 6/19: Active recovery day - 2 mile walk with Casey and his friend

THURSDAY 6/20: 3.5 mile train run

FRIDAY 6/21: 10 mile bike ride in the morning and a 1/4 mile swim in the afternoon at Walden Pond

SATURDAY 6/22: Active recovery day - 2 mile walk of the Flume Gorge in New Hampshire with the family for my birthday

SUNDAY 6/23: 3 mile intermediate hike up Mt. Pemigewasset with Casey

Tri Course Training | June 16

Track Workout | June18

Trail Run | June 20

I'm hoping to set another PR (personal record) at this Sunday's triathlon - the only event in the next five months where I have a goal of setting a PR in terms of time. 1:27:45 is the time to beat. I'll be racing for The Scott Rigsby Foundation's Team Unthinkables to raise awareness and funds for those with loss of limb or mobility, including returning Veterans, children and victims of this year's Boston Marathon bombings. Scott's vision, determination and success is an inspiration to me and so many. As he said, "I want people to look at me and say, 'If that guy can do it with no legs, then I can!'"

Please consider making a donation.

http://www.scottrigsbyfoundation.org/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.participant&participantID=1922

finding my "unthinkable"

Nobody said running marathons was easy or pretty. After you poop your pants during your fastest (not fast, but fastest) marathon in a cold February rain, you tell people, "Yeah, I'm all done with marathons" and you don't go into all of the details why. Well, usually you don't. Sometimes you have to play that card. I have gotten a lot of mileage out of that story with my kids. When they start complaining about something being difficult or we need a light moment, I sometimes pull out the "Oh yeah? Well I pooped my pants in a marathon" card ;) Here is a picture of me after finishing that marathon with my Mexican cupcake pacer, Stephanie, who paced me for the last half of my last marathon. Thanks for that, Stephanie!

Hyannis Marathon | Hyannis, MA | February 2009

I've been saying that I'm done with marathons ever since that marathon. Until now. An accumulation of small events and discussions over the last two years led to my decision to try this distance again. I saw Scott Rigsby compete in the 2011 Ironman 70.3 Timberman, I volunteered with Jim at the BAA 5K and Invitational Mile a day before this year's Boston Marathon, I finally met Scott on the Boston Marathon course and then the bombings happened.

In August 2011, Tina and I were kayak volunteers on the swim course for the Ironman 70.3 Timberman. I was there to support my new friend, Courtney, as she rocked her first Ironman 70.3! For those unfamiliar with this race, it consists of a 1.2 mile open water swim, a 56 mile bike and a 13.1 mile run. During the hours as a volunteer and spectator, I noticed a man competing with two prosthetic legs. I was in awe! I took a few pictures and later found out that I had been watching Scott Rigsby. This is Scott Rigsby on the run portion of the Ironman 70.3 Timberman.

Ironman 70.3 Timberman | Gilford, NH | August 2011

In 2007, Scott Rigsby became the first double-amputee on prosthetics to finish an Ironman distance triathlon at the 140.6 World Championship in Hawaii. That is a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike and a 26.2 mile run! Scott did the "unthinkable!" He continues to challenge himself, to serve those with loss of mobility and/or limb and to inspire many. You can read more of his story here. I'll return to Scott later.

On April 14, 2013, I volunteered with Tina at the Boston Athletic Association (B.A.A.) 5K and Invitational Mile at the suggestion of my friend, Jim. He said we'd get cool jackets. And we did. That jacket would take on much more significance as I repeatedly watched news footage of volunteers in those same yellow and blue jackets rush to people's aid immediately after the bombings at the finish line the next day. After the 5K and Invitational Mile races, Tina and I went to have lunch with Jim. Jim and I have done numerous races together so he has a bit of an idea of what I'm capable of. Fairly soon into our lunch and first beer, Jim started talking about his love for ultramarathons. By the end of lunch (and two beers later), he had me convinced that trail ultramarathons are much easier and more fun than traditional road marathons. Tina was probably rolling her eyes and saying to herself, "Oh no, here she goes again." The next morning Jim had me signed up for the Trail Animals Running Club (TARC), which hosts several trail races throughout the year.

On April 15, 2013, I finally met Scott Rigsby on the Boston Marathon course just past the 10 mile mark in Natick. It was a beautiful day. I was happy to be wearing my new B.A.A. jacket and to be cheering for the runners, which I've done every year since I ran it in 2002. Scott was just three minutes from the finish line when the bombings happened and, like thousands, was unable to finish. He is resolved to offer hope to the victims of the bombings through his foundation and special fund called "Aid for Boston." Here is a video of him discussing his mission with Anderson Cooper.

This is the series of events, people and discussions that have inspired me to find my new "unthinkable," to discover a new way to challenge myself, to express my gratitude for what I have and to help others! Last month I joined Scott Rigsby's Team Unthinkables, the official endurance sports team of his foundation where members race in a series of events to raise awareness and to advocate for individuals with loss of limb or mobility. As a team requirement, I will participate in four endurance events this year. I've chosen the Cohasset Sprint Triathlon, the Wild Fish 2 Mile Swim, the Providence Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon, and the TARC Fall Classic 50K. I have different goals for each of these events.

I will try to beat my best time of 1:27:45 at the Cohasset Sprint Triathlon on June 30th with the help of my run pacer, Helen! I apologize in advance if I yell at you, Helen; please know how much I appreciate your generous offer :) You will get all the credit for bringing me in under last year's time! The Wild Fish 2 Mile Swim will only be my second long distance, open water swim. I completed my first 1.2 mile swim last year. I am very nervous about this swim because, in addition to the fact that I've never done this distance before, I know that I might be one of the last swimmers to finish. Again, I'd appreciate anyone who'd like to keep me company for 90 minutes in Salem Harbor on August 4th! My challenge for the Providence Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon on September 29th will be to run SLOW, thereby saving my legs for the 50K three weeks later, and to have fun with my friend, Teri. The TARC Fall Classic 50K will be a daunting, 31 mile trail run on October 19th. Jim can either be blamed or given credit for the decision to do this race! I've already done enough trail runs to know that, of the four events, this will require the most time, focus, determination, food and... pit stops!

I have my work cut out for me. As I do these events over the next five months, I will also be working to raise awareness and money for the Scott Rigsby Foundation and Aid for Boston. Your support of me and my goals for these events, for my fundraising efforts and the Scott Rigsby Foundation will be greatly appreciated. To make a donation to my Unthinkable Campaign, click here. I will keep writing about my training, the events and the work of the Scott Rigsby Foundation.

Be inspired! Do the unthinkable!

remembering my ma-maw and pa-paw

My grandmother, better known as my Ma-Maw, was a Reader in a Christian Science Church in Oklahoma when I was a little girl. I fondly remember going to church with her. My cousin and I would go to Sunday School and then we'd join my grandfather, better known as my Pa-Paw, for the "lesson" in the big church. I'd sit in the pew of this very simple, sun-filled, white church and watch my Ma-Maw as she read the lessons to the church, either lessons from Mary Baker Eddy's "Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures" or from the Bible. The Christian Science Church does not have a minister. All of the lessons are taught and read by the Readers, so my Ma-Maw's role as a Reader was important. Although she has not been a Reader in a church for a long time, she remains a Christian Science Practitioner.

Yesterday, for the first time, I was the "Worship Assistant" for my church, First Parish in Framingham, in my minister's absence. Although I've been trying to severely cut back on my volunteer commitments lately and the idea of leading a church service made me nervous, when your minister asks you to do something, it is really hard to say no. This was another opportunity that was new and challenging and that would take me out of my comfort zone. As I stood at the lectern and spoke in a church that is physically very similar to the church I went to with my Ma-Maw when I was younger, I remembered her, I felt her presence, I breathed in and was more relaxed. I am grateful that I pushed through my reluctance and fear and took advantage of this opportunity. I was rewarded with pleasant memories of and a different connection to my Ma-Maw and with new connections with my church and church members.      

Holding my Ma-Maw's hand | Tulsa, OK | October 2012

My Pa-Paw was a World War II Veteran who served in the Navy. He died on my 15th birthday. I'm thinking of him today - Memorial Day. Below is a photo of one of his flags and Navy cookbooks. 

My Pa-Paw's flag and Navy cookbook | Framingham, MA | Memorial Day 2013

laughing our way through martial arts lessons

How can we manage to smile and laugh our way through awkwardness, fear and pain? My beginner adult martial arts student cohort and I did just that in our first two weeks of martial arts lessons at Revolution Martial Fitness! After my first class, I found myself energized and smiling - like a real big, natural smile that comes from deep within and you cannot stop - which was quite a relief after many days of some family crises that were weighing me down. What was almost better than our first classes, was the humorous and insightful dialogue that took place via email after each class. 

We tried to remember what we actually did or, more precisely, the names of the things we tried to do. Was that the rear naked choke, the Americano arm lock (Wait, isn't that a coffee drink?), the crazy horse, modified mount, dismount, swimmer thingy? And it just got worse from there. I know now it will be useless for me to try to remember all of the names for everything we are trying to learn, which is a little hard for my order-loving mind to accept. But I'm learning to just go with it. Maybe we're back to that whole "relaxed control" idea. Hmm.. Something I need to learn? Yes. So, after our group tried to collectively recall the names of what we actually did, we went on to talk about how what we actually did made us feel - before, during and after. Sometimes long after! We definitely came to the first class with a mix of excitement, nervousness and uncertainty. The more experienced students - some of them being all of 13 since this is a Teen/Adult class - were fabulous at introducing themselves, offering us tips during the class and being eager to partner with us. After a lot of bag work in the first class, my entire upper body felt sore for days afterward. In addition to the martial arts techniques that we tried and couldn't remember the names of, we did a lot of different kinds of burpees, push-ups and sit-ups in the first two weeks of classes. We even did ab exercises involving pads. As Sensei Paul said, "Abs are more fun when you are hitting something!" And for my Ultimate Bootcamp campers who are reading this, I'm learning some new moves to bring to bootcamp, including a new burpee because you know how much I love all types of burpees! All of this left us feeling sore, humble, grateful, proud and amused. My cohorts have much more to say about it and they've shared some witty and insightful comments in these first two weeks, which I've included below with their permission. Thanks for writing. Thanks for being on the journey with me. Keep sharing and, more importantly, keep doing better because you know you can!  Peace over power :)

Some of my cohorts insights:

• I feel energized, strong and ready for more! 

• All of the students were encouraging, helpful and very open.

• This is both a challenge and an exciting experience for me. Never thought I'd find myself trying it out again.

• The opening workout was brutal for me... I was definitely tired out after the first type of push up, never mind the twenty variations that followed... So we learned and laughed today... That's at least two of the things we are supposed to do daily, right?

• I think the ground fighting was a little awkward at first, but then I thought about how I just spent the whole weekend on the ground with my 1 and 3 year old nieces crawling and jumping all over me, and that wasn't awkward at all.  I found the most awkward part was getting on top of the person, but then once you start going through the drill and focus on the technique, you sort of forget about the awkwardness.

• Okay. Teeth brushed, extra deodorant on, body spray on (in case deodorant stops working), toenails painted. Yup, I think I'm ready for karate class! 

• If nothing else, I am having fun being surrounded by people with great attitudes about learning. I mean just this week, [my partner] and I almost made out while learning to drop our weight on each other. Not too awkward, right?  Today, [my partner] tried to strip me. She started with my shirt, then my pants!

• Okay, so call me weird, but the whole "mounting" thing didn't really bother me at all. Not sure what that says about me because I thought FOR SURE that it would freak me out. Maybe it was the whole choking thing that made me forget about the mounting thing. Or maybe it was just because [my partner] was such an awesome partner - always keeping me laughing. I'm sure that was actually what relieved any awkwardness.

• I am inspired everyday at RMF... I thought it was tons of fun and I learned how I must correct my technique in order for it to be effective. PROGRESS! 

• What I can appreciate about our work outs and body strengthening is the pain I have to show for it afterwards. Never mind all of the fun in between!

And finally...

• Dawna, make sure you wear pants!

starting martial arts lessons (or learning about "relaxed control")

Things got worse after my last blog post. I've learned that you have to keep moving, no matter how slow. Or, as my mom has said, "Put on your big girl panties and get on with it!" So, at the end of a week of crises with my mom and daughter that had me feeling completely overwhelmed, exhausted, sad and sometimes scared; that will affect how we will live our lives going forward, I began martial arts lessons.

On a Sunday afternoon, I went to an orientation with five other new adult students at Revolution Martial Fitness, where my children have been taking lessons for four years and I've worked as a Program Director for the last three months. I believe all in the group - five women and one male - were feeling a bit nervous, apprehensive and excited to learn exactly what we had signed up for. Sensei Paul teaches a combination of martial arts styles including Kempo, Muay Thai and Jiu Jitsu to help develop well-rounded students with strength, flexibility, endurance, focus and confidence. During our orientation we learned some basics to help us join the classes the following week. We practiced slap out and defensive stand up position. We did various strikes and kicks on the punching bags. And, we tried out our kiai - a short yell used before, during or after a technique. Two things surprised me about this introductory work.

I am reasonably fit since I spend some time running, biking, swimming, practicing yoga and teaching Ultimate Bootcamp. Going into this I wasn't sure how much of a workout I would get or if it would be helpful in my other events since martial arts is new territory for me. Sure, I've spent many hours watching my children practice, but things are always different from the outside. I was pleasantly surprised by how easily my heart rate started rising during the bag work. I mentioned this to Sensei Paul after the orientation. He told me that he believes there is an emotional element to bag work that can contribute to increased heart rate. Perhaps. I do believe that there will be more emotional and mental than physical challenges for me to to overcome as I practice the martial arts. For example, the other thing that surprised me was how it felt to yell my first kiai, to find my voice and to become comfortable with it. Sensei Paul talked about this notion of "relaxed control" - trying not to hold our physical selves too tensely but rather to relax and demonstrate control and confidence. I think this applies to our physical bodies, as well as to our voices. We do not often have opportunities to yell in a controlled manner and doing so can be quite liberating, and a little intimidating as well. I think the mental challenge will come when it is time to learn strike combinations and forms that involve memorization and bilateral integration - coordinating opposite sides of the body at the same time. This type of work stimulates communication between the left and right sides of the brain and is important in physical and cognitive function. My memory is less acute these days so I'm hoping that this type of brain activation will be beneficial to my cognitive function.

I almost got bogged down by the larger issues ahead of me and didn't go to the orientation. I'm glad I did. It was helpful to take this small amount of time for myself, to get out of my head for just a bit and discover something new that will take me further outside of my comfort zone and help me grow in new ways. In a way, this is a gift to myself that will help me be a stronger person for my family.

I am grateful for this new, shared connection with my daughter and son who are in their fourth year of martial arts lessons. I am grateful for and looking forward to starting this journey with five other people - Leo, Amy, Heather, Alyssa and Deanna. The next time I write I will share what our first classes were like. I am grateful for another opportunity to learn how to face things head-on with "relaxed control."

"A further sign of health is that we don't become undone by fear and trembling, but we take it as a message that it's time to stop struggling and look directly at what's threatening us." ~Pema Chodron

New RMF adult students | Natick, MA | May 5, 2013

breathing in, breathing out

I woke yesterday thinking that I'd make the most of the beautiful, sunny, 70 degree Sunday by taking my bike out for a training ride after church and work (I'm training for a June triathlon. I'll write more about that adventure later!). The ride didn't happen. Instead, I received some lessons on breathing.

With a comforting yet slyly teasing smile, Reverend Dr. Thandeka told our congregation yesterday morning, "I promise that you will breathe in this week and not feel inspired; keep breathing." I so often focus on my breath while running, biking, swimming and meditating. I instruct others to focus on their breath with the words, "breathing in, breathing out." At church yesterday our congregation collectively focused on our breath. Breathing is a natural, simple act and a powerful tool of focus and connection, but it is not always easy.

I left church and Reverend Dr. Thandeka's timely lesson on mindful breathing to teach my first private mindfulness lesson with a seven year old boy. I thoroughly enjoyed my time with him sitting outside on a basketball court, focusing on our posture and, yes, our breathing. We both felt calm. I returned home, donned my bike gear and was eager to continue riding this wave of calm when my mom called. She was having trouble breathing. We knew the drill. We headed to the emergency room.  

While waiting for treatment, helplessly watching my mom gasp, and listening to her struggle to tell me she felt like she was drowning, I breathed... and I did not feel inspired. I felt worried, sad, frustrated, confused, helpless. I shared the morning's sermon with my mother and she so wisely responded, "How can you not feel inspired if you can breathe?" Yes! There she was again - my insightful, resilient mother teaching me in her moments of struggle. I breathed again and I kept breathing - easily, gratefully. And then I worked on my patience, on letting go of my worry, sadness, frustration, confusion and helplessness - too-familiar feelings that I have experienced so many times with my mother over the last 30 years of many hospital emergency rooms, hallways, beds, doctors and nurses across Oklahoma, Kansas, Minnesota and Massachusetts.

Again, I slowly, reluctantly drove away from a hospital where my mom was staying. Again, I was feeling a bit lost and not knowing exactly what to do. My older brother called from Oklahoma as I pulled into my driveway. My brother with whom my mom and I had just reunited in October after 15 years. My big brother... He has not been on this journey with my mom. His has been a different one. We lost many years together. And yet he knew what to say as he learned in just a few short minutes of many of the struggles my mom has had with her health. He knew to say, "I'm sorry that you have been doing this alone for so long." I finally cried. I felt the gift of being heard, of this connection with my big brother who had been gone for so long. I breathed.

My mom, brother and I reunited after 15 years | Broken Arrow, OK | October 2012

stepping out of my comfort zone

After many years of taking on adventures to challenge myself and to take me out of my comfort zone, I finally decided to begin writing about it. If I would have started this blog when I was a bit younger, I could have already written about the things that appeared to some as easy, but were not. Mostly these were physical challenges - marathons; triathlons; a 1.2 mile open water swim; a Century Ride (a 100 mile bike ride); a 13 mile, mountainous obstacle course race; a 200 mile relay; a 61-flight stair climb and numerous, smaller road races in between. Some equally demanding events were more a challenge of my mind and spirit. These events may not be significant accomplishments or challenging for some, but they were for me.

Stepping outside of my comfort zone has often meant choosing to do an event that I was not sure I could do, that would make me nervous and, sometimes, fearful. Over the years people (especially my mother who increasingly believes I am not related to her!) have asked why I continually push myself to do more. I answer that I enjoy seeing what I am capable of physically as a way to strengthen my mind and my soul, to take advantage of and express my gratitude for the physical body I have been given, and to set an example for my children of overcoming obstacles with hard work and creating a sense of pride and accomplishment. My goal is not to become the best athlete, but rather to keep pushing my own limits and finding my own personal best. My young son once excitedly asked me after a race, "Did you win?" I answered with a smile, "I never win, but sometimes I beat myself."

I am a reluctant blogger. I am not blogging because I think that my story is so unique, my adventures are so great or my writing is so good. I am writing mostly to document my sense of adventure for my children. I am blogging now because I've recently been inspired - before and after this week's Boston Marathon bombings - to once again step outside of my comfort zone and take on some new challenges. As someone wrote to me in a running group today, "Life is too short not to act on inspirations!" Maybe, in turn, I will inspire others to do more than they thought they were capable of and, as a result, learn how strong they really are. If I don't, that's fine too. Sometimes life hands us challenges from which we must learn and grow, other times we must seek out our own adventures.

Pema Chodron, a mom, ordained nun, author and teacher in the Shambhala Buddhist lineage writes, "Fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth." So, despite my fears, I will continue to find ways to step outside of my comfort zone, to challenge myself and to move closer to my truth.

Follow this AdventurHER and see what adventure she takes on next!

Volunteer at B.A.A. 5K and Invitational Mile | Boston, MA | April 14, 2013