Sometimes you just need a good run. 

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The view from Tim’s start line. Hubbards is beautiful!

Every year at my work we hold a “Surviving September” party for the team. It’s a celebration of making it through the events, the hustle and bustle of the “back at it” month. It’s a celebration on surviving those 12-14 hour days getting the events going, the magazine to print, the office moved, and to get everything else going. It’s non-stop.

These are the times that training and the health-conscious me begins hibernation. I know better to sign up for the final triathlon of the season, knowing that my training wains and I end up cursing my way through the course (it only took 2-3 years to realize this fact!). Miraculously, I’ve kept my swimming up, and leading classes at Cyclone keeps me in the saddle. But running. Oh, running. It’s like drying dishes, submitting my taxes, or cleaning out the fridge; I’ll do anything but that. Anything.

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September Sunflowers. My favourite!

I find it sad that running and I were taking a break. We’d become so close over the last 9 months. I promised myself – after countless ‘re-starts’ – that I wouldn’t quit running. If I didn’t give it up, then I wouldn’t have that horrible first run back. You know the one. The sweaty, slow, painful, first run back that hurts the lungs, the head and the heart.

But there’s this marathon that I signed up for in 2 weeks….I’ve been battling about which distance I should realistically complete on October 11th, because I sure as heck aint ready for a marathon. I ran home a few weeks ago (6K) and I wanted to stop and walk, no crawl home. It was hot, I was sore, slow and the whole experience just wasn’t what I had been experiencing with running over the past year. I could not motivate myself to go running this month, even with Tim coming home from really great runs, I just wouldn’t dig out the runners.

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My speedy love, kicking relay butt. (4th place!)

Rum Rummers Relay happened today. Tim and I had signed up for this relay in May, and today was the day. I didn’t set any expectations for myself, knowing my 9.3K leg was a hilly one. I wanted to finish without the desire to crawl into the ditch (that is so 2014). But you know what? I killed it. I frigging loved the hills, down and up. Seriously. I ran hard, pushed myself and wouldn’t let ol’ wheezy behind me pass, though he tried. One woman passed me on the first 3 hills, going up and I promptly passed her going down. I challenged myself. It was amazing. The sun was shining, but it wasn’t 25+C like last year, the wind was moderate and I was well rested and fed. I smiled at the volunteers and cheerers. I love it, and thus loved running all over again.

A good race was exactly what I needed to get my running mojo back. Do I think I can achieve a PB on my marathon next month? Not likely, but heck, let’s give it a go!

RUM RUNNERS 2015

Catching my breath and oh so happy at the finish line! (49:08 / 9.3K)

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Post Race Blues. It’s a thing. Who knew?

“You have good nails for someone who’s just finished an ironman” my best friend says to me. It’s just over a week since I’ve crossed the finish line of ironman and I’m back at home.

“I don’t know what to do with myself!” defending my perfectly polished nails.

“You can join the rest of us mortals and do normal things like sit on patios and watch movies”

Touché.

We were teasing, but the truth was I felt a bit lost, and even more surprising – depressed. How could I feel this way after one of the coolest vacation and experiences of my life?

Not only were Ironman and Mont Tremblant amazing, I had four incredible days with Tim in Montreal celebrating our five year anniversary exploring the city by bike, tastings in beautiful vineyards and then visiting with dear friends at a cottage. There was a food tour, a spa, an eight-course meal at one of my favourite restaurants, swimming in a beautiful lake, laughter and wine with wonderful people. You get the idea. I had absolutely nothing to be sad about…but I was. In fact, I was down right sullen. People would ask me about the race, and I would struggle to show my enthusiasm for the entire experience. I had no regrets about the race and couldn’t imagine the day going any better…but why so blue?

I read up on this phenomena (I like to call it the ‘Boxing Day Syndrome’) – it turns out its quite normal! After working all year for one large goal and putting so much focus into Ironman, once it was over there is certainly a low to follow. There were some great suggestions that I tried to put into play.

  1. Sign up for a new race. Check. I decided to finish off my race season with the Valley Harvest Marathon. This is the closest marathon to my family’s home and I’ve enjoyed completing the 5 &10K over the thanksgiving weekend. Finish a run, watch the pumpkins races in Windsor and have Nanny’s turkey dinner. The marathon has always been on my bucket list so why not now? After committing to this via my registration fee, I dusted off my runners and went for my first post-ironman ran. My plan was 16K (delusional much?) and at 5K I stopped at a friends house and wondered if I had gone insane. My hips hurt. The humidity was ridiculous. I hated running. I managed the 5K home, but wondered if recovery was going to take a bit longer than I anticipated.
  2. Do some of those things that I put off when training. Paint the deck (eat nibs), paint the garage (eat more nibs), organize my house (over wine), read more (wine), cook more (with wine), walk the dogs more, clean out my closet. I’m on it.
  3. Write. More.
  4. I’ve reached out to a few local races and offered to help out 3 local events over the fall. I really do love cheering people on! 
  5. Reconnect with those amazing non-triathletes.
  6. Chase some big career goals and professional development.   

I am happy to report my post-race sadness has dissipated completely and I’m learning the fine balance between lazing on the coach with Netflix to 6-hour bike rides. There’s a happy-medium I’m aiming towards for the remainder of 2015.

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I am certainly committed to completing another ironman distance race, but I’m unsure it will be in 2016. Our family has plans in Newfoundland next summer, but I suspect there will be some local triathlons I get involved with, including Epic.

The Big Day!

I didn’t win, but it sure feels like a victory!

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This photo says it all. Except my real time 🙂 14:51:58

It’s the morning of the race and I look around to see my friends at the start line. My thought: We are really here. Excitement washed over me. Elation. All of my work – all of their work – today was finally our day.

Let’s do this.

I waited for anxiety to set in as I waited for the gun to go off, but strangely, it never did, not in the way I anticipated. We were in the water splashing around before 7am and I focused on sighting buoys through the fog and not swimming into anyone. I spent this first hour re-hashing my race plan – transition zones, nutrition, how to deal with the heat (the expected humidex was slated for 40C!) – and trying to swim straight 🙂 My garmin read 4200M when I came out of the water, but it didn’t matter, I was under 1:30 and now I could focus on the next task, the bike.

I knew the bike would be the toughest part of the race for me, and I was right. I started off with a 27km/h pace, and given the hilliness of the course, I knew I couldn’t sustain that speed. Tim and a few others started to miss me on the live tracker at some spots. You can see my speed variance here:

7 km 7 km 15:29 1:52:06 27.13 km/h      
73.5 km 66.5 km 2:40:43 4:32:49 24.83 km/h      
81.5 km 8 km 26:55 4:59:44 17.83 km/h      
89.5 km 8 km 19:11 5:18:55 25.02 km/h      
163.5 km 74 km 3:14:26 8:33:21 22.84 km/h      
171.5 km 8 km 29:29 9:02:50 16.28 km/h      
180 km 8.5 km 21:23 9:24:13 23.85 km/h      
Total 180 km 7:47:36 9:24:13 23.10 km/h

Lesson learned: I didn’t turn into a hero on race day. I had anticipated my time on the bike to be around 7h:30m, I wasn’t far off, and given the heat I’ll say it was a success. I didn’t have any mechanical issues which was a small miracle in itself. Betty’s 7 years old and has done me well. I managed to grab a big hug from my mom before I did a complete wardrobe change because it was SO. HOT. and I knew I was going to be donning some compression socks (thanks to my Fredericton Marathon experience!). I came out of the tent to find Ron chatting up my mom. I couldn’t help myself, I ran past Ron, give him a (friendly) smack and said “LET’S GO!” I was off!

The true test comes now. After spending close to 8 hours on the bike, how was a marathon going to feel? I’ve had lots of experienced Ironmen assure me I wouldn’t be running the entire 42.2K, but I was aiming to run half of that distance regardless! I saw many of my friends on the course and chatted with fellow racers throughout. There were mostly happy racers and one woman who grunted, to no one in particular,  “Why do I keep doing these races?! This is the last one, and I mean it!”. This made me smile. I think we’ve all had a race where we’ve thought that way, and I loved that she needed to verbalize it. However, I didn’t agree, at ALL. I felt strong. I kept pushing.

Our run course was a two loop trek – thankfully every marathon I’ve ever done has been the same! It can be pretty tough to come thisclose to the finish line, only to race another 21K. I’m happy to report my mindset was positive and I was truly enjoying this entire experience. The volunteers and spectators made the 5h:20m fly by. I’m serious! The rails-to-trails graced us with shade (and flatness!), and shortly after a sunset brought the much-needed cooling temperatures. High-fives and smiles from my friends from home was invaluable and I loved that so many Halifax Triathlon Club athletes made the trip and were sharing the experience.

With about 5K to go I was hoping that I could pick it up for that strong finish, but my legs had a different plan. I ended up walking/running with Pat Kennedy, someone I had only met once before and we chatted. It was his first Ironman too and he was still smiling, just like me. How exciting that we were experiencing this together! He offered to run me in, but I could tell he had a bit more gitty-up-and-go than I, so I told him to enjoy that finish line and I would see him soon. I felt confident I would finish in under 15h, and I was happy no matter.

I could hear the crowd. The announcer saying “YOU. ARE. AN. IRONMAN.” I started to tear up as I shuffled to the village. Trying to run up that final hill…I smiled and high-fived all the way to the bright lights of the finish line. I heard my mom, Karen, Sarah and everyone else that remained to bring us all across the finish line.

Becky Davison, you are an IRONMAN.

It was amazing. Outstanding. Out of this world. Dare I say, magical?  I knew I would love this experience, but I had no idea the scope. The pre-race dinner with over 2500 attendees and their collective energy. The expo where I did spend all of my allowance. The blind woman who went for it. The 75 year old man that beat me. My friends that surpassed their goals. Our families that knew what we had been through to get here and believed in us every step of the way. All of it. I want it again!

Do people actually do just one ironman!?!? Not this girl.

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Unbelievably lucky to have my mom with me. And for Sarah to have thought to take this shot!

Food, stress and finally getting off the treadmill.

I made it. One week of clean eating – on my terms that is. I knew I wasn’t going to give up wine and that there would be a bit of a learning curve but I was really happy with my experiment…and 2 weeks later, I’m sticking close to the whole food project. I’m reading labels and paying attention more than ever before. And I feel great.

My first two days I struggled with meals and found myself eating what felt like snacks all day long. Karen and I got together and made a ton of cabbage rolls, giving me a fall back for any rushed meals.

cabbage rolls

Salad, smoothies, oranges, hummus, small pieces of dark chocolate. I did really well.  Except for the wine, but my theory is life is too short and stressful to give up wine. 

My timing wasn’t ideal, with coming into the Easter long weekend with more chocolate scattered around then any other time of the year. The Thursday at our office was a disaster: 

office nancenseWe’re all guilty of it (in our office) of “treating” ourselves on the last day of the week. Often that treat is deep fried. My shift in thinking is that how am I “treating” my body by filling it full of crap. A Pete’s salad is a “treat”! A giant, delicious navel orange is a treat. McDonalds – that’s crap and punishment for my body. Why would I bother? 

I did face some unexpected stress on Sunday which kept me from my chocolate craving. It also kept me form training. It was not an ideal day and proved that life really can throw you a curve ball when you least expect it.

I’m dealing with this stress while also continuing to eat as healthy as possible. I did cave and ate one timbit on Thursday afternoon. But just one. Typically I would find an excuse to go into the kitchen and devour half of that sweet crap.  But I held onto the way I was felling. No bloating/overeating feelings, No mid-afternoon drowsiness, no highs and lows….it was incredible. And sustainable. 

I didn’t beat myself up for that one timbit and I rewarded myself with a new book and tank top rather than food. I really felt that the fuel I was consuming was having a great effect on the way I was feeling, and my overall energy level. 

I will continue to focus on food labels and experiment with fuelling during long training sessions. Four months until Ironman, less than one month until my next marathon. I can’t think about it too much, or it will cause me to go into an anxiety attack. 

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My training isn’t where I was hoping it would be (that previously mentioned stress is effecting me in a variety of ways that I will share when I’m ready) but I got out for my first outside run in 76 days today.

It wasn’t glorious, heart-stopping, or speedy. My guts hurt a bit and I struggled on the hills. But the sunshine was amazing and I’m feeling optimistic about the remainder of my training and 2015.   

We tend to fear the things we want most.

If not now, when?

I have recently discovered that I’m scared of setting big goals. I can easily sit down and plan my next week, the next month…but it’s those big ones that cause the “analysis paralysis”. The self doubt, the long term planning and lets not forget the possibility of failure. 

On August 18, I made a commitment to my future self. I took a deep breath and hit “register now” button. I was committing to completing my first ironman.

proof

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What does this mean? Plan. Train. Focus. Repeat. 

With some weeks peeking at 25hrs of training, not to mention travel time, pre and post workout time to account for. And all those showers and laundry 🙂 It was akin to taking on close to a full time job. Without giving up the one that actually pays me. 

You are an IRONMAN

See, I’d watched this video: https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=767105323348548&set=vb.260375747354844&type=2&theater.

And I watched it again, and again.

It brought me to tears. Even today, four months after I first watched this video, I’m welling up.

Talk about impactful.

Triathlon is a sport that is performed completely solo, yet there is so much support and a family-feel through what it creates. The people cheering for the triathletes, whether it’s family, friends or strangers…their voices of encouragement are unlike anything else I’ve felt. And I want to feel. It doesn’t matter if you come in first or last, that unwavering support is there. 

When I first learned about what an Ironman actually was it sounded insane. Complete and utter nonsense, really. People pay for that?!? It was something that other people did…those elite athletes. That has ample time, money, gear and had a strong sporting background. And when some of my closest friends joined that realm – well, I still thought it was certifiable and unfathomable. But as time went on, I got stronger, I raced further distances and I began to pay attention…. something started to shift in my thinking…it was a desire that I ignored at first and kept under wraps. I didn’t even admit it to myself what I really wanted. 

Until now. I want it. I really, really want this challenge. 

Fortunately for me, my favourite training partner decided to take the leap in 2015, along with a few other of my favourite triathletes. Over brunch the deal was sealed. I was in. Mont Tremblant, get ready because here we come!

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With 277 days to go, I guess I better snap out of my “paralysis”. This is happening.

Step one: I finally got down to reading Joe Friel’s book that I had originally purchased for my 70.3 training. I’m disappointed that I waited until now to read it. I’m all in for Friel’s training method. His philosophy really speaks to me and I’m confident in his plan. From finding the right people to train with, to dealing with the off-season, to training in zones. I found my coach for the low-low price of $24.99. 

 tri book

My registration and accommodations are booked for August 2015. I guess all that’s left is the training. We’ll call that step two.

Let’s go.

tri canada 

 

 

 

Ramblings of a Runner

Ramblings of a Runner.

 GM3

(written in late July 2014 on a ferry)

The 70.3 triathlon was certainly what I’ve now learned to call, my A-Race for 2014. The event was amazing, I met my goal and now the dust has settled. I haven’t given much thought to what I would do after Challenge, race wise. I was primarily focused on enjoying some sunshine and gorging on poutine, with a side of beer. I did have s few races in my peripheral though, I’ll admit that!

Tim and I have been running the Boys & Girls 10K and Half Marathon race for two years now, and it’s becoming a bit of a tradition. It’s the perfect excuse to make it back to Tim’s homeland of Grand Manan. It was also the perfect excuse to convince my “other” mother and dad to explore a little taste of New Brunswick’s paradise (no that’s not an oxymoron!). My first year I completed the 10K and last year the half marathon.

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The view at Swallowtail, Grand Manan

The interesting thing about last years race was I expected little, ate far too many bagels beforehand an managed to finish with 2 times. 1:59:18 and 2:00:06. I could have lived with either of those times, if I had in fact broken the two-hour half marathon before. I swore redemption for 2014 at that time, the under 2 hour half marathon would be mine.

So here we are, 2014 and me not really having the best running situation given my earlier injury and still in recovery from Challenge. Tim and I signed up again anyway, it was a flat course and we were heading over on Thursday regardless! Low and behold Connie signed up as well. Her first 10K in, well, likely a decade!

GM

A comment I said to my friend in passing – and is surly a reflection in how far I’ve come this year – was: “I’m not expecting to beat records this weekend…but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”

And try I did. The race begins at 730 PM , which is a bit awkward for planning meals and I spend the whole day thinking about the race. I wasn’t worried, I was just going to do my best and see what would happen. I ate some more of those bagels that made me go so fast last year.

When the horn sounded I was off! I knew I was starting strong because I could still see Tim for at least 2 KM’s but I went with it. I’m always so bloody conservative and hold back until the end, etc. etc. Now was my time…I was ready to beat 2hrs or blow up.

The weather was beautiful, the aid stations were plentiful and I had a few runners to chase/pace/leapfrog with. Dad (and eventually Connie) were cheering me on and Tim, after winning the 10K, ran ahead of me for the second half of the race.

At 10K I was at 54 minutes and feeling strong, but the next 11.1K could have brought anything. I didn’t get excited. I ate my gels and drank my water.

My loving words to Tim were “Run ahead of me, I can’t talk……faster, faster.” Aaaaand that was about it for the next hour. (Sorry babe.)

I made it. 1:54:48 according to my garmin:

GM half

It felt amazing and I was amazed at the entire mental side of this race. I continued to push myself and because I didn’t know anyone else racing, I didn’t get lost in what other people may have been thinking of me, because I didn’t care.

What if I could always have a strong mental attitude, and could push myself to the limit during a race? The ability to stomp out that self doubt that is always lurking in those low moments, and to maintain confidence. To focus on my own race and not worry what other people thought?

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Feeling happy and ready for wine @ 930PM on Grand Manan

In order to achieve a challenging goal, one needs to put in the training, the hours of running, biking, swimming and what goes along with that. Proper diet, sleep and dedication are also important factors to a successful race. Ideally, self-assurance would also be growing and help push through those mentally weak moments to cross that finish line feeling proud and accomplished.

May your training be smooth, your attitude be positive and amazing treats be waiting at the end!

GM treats

Amazing finds at Island Art Cafe in Grand Manan

Challenge Accepted.

I did it.

We did it.

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Crossing the 70.3 finish line for the first time

This weekend was a memorable one. Not only was it race weekend, something I have been counting down to for close to a year, but with Hurricane Arthur landing on Saturday, there was a threat to take our race away!

HTC ST andrews

What a team! Friday night pre-race gathering.

I kept surprisingly cool leading up to the race. I thought the anxiety would set in as we arrived in St. Andrews….or the night before….surely as I got dressed that morning…or treading water before the horn sounded.

But I didn’t. I knew I trained to the best of my ability, and I was going to give it my all. Funnily enough, I experienced more anxiety with my first sprint race in June, than Challenge St. Andrew’s.

My family and friends made all the difference in the world. They reassured me, they were there to have lunch with me, and play bingo the night before. We didn’t start dissecting the race or freaking each other out. Not even once. I had the best support there and I hope I was helpful to the people around me.

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Race eve.

On race day, the alarm went off at 4AM and Karen and I rolled over to eat our “race cake” from Ironman/Hero Sam Gyde. We thought we may be able to grab an extra 20 minutes of sleep (fat chance!) and we were up and getting ready to move out shortly thereafter.

We racked our bikes and set up transition at 5:30. Karen and I were setting up next to each other, when we heard that dread “POP” of a tire. It was so close to us my eardrums hurt. I was ready…if it was me, I could do this. (Thank you Shane for your lessons.) But it wasn’t me, or Karen or Shannon (huge sigh of relief!), and I did a final check before leaving the transition area for the last time before the race.

dressing

This looks like some kind of bizarre sleepover. Oh, wait….

I didn’t expect to enjoy the pre-race/pre-swim time, but my fellow HTC’ers united and we had fun. A few photos, well wishes, and smiles. Andrea Hachey, you have no idea how much your smile calmed me as I entered the water and swam to the start line, you are an inspiration.

As we treaded water and started at each other, I broke the tension with “What’s everyone drinking tonight!?” Val, Laura, Shannon and Devon, you made it fun.

swim girl

Girls (and Tony) just want to have fun

And when the horn sounded, I took a deep breath, went wide (no head kicking, please) and swam. The water was chilly (from 27C on Thursday, to 18C on race day) but calm and the staggered start time made it the best open water start l’ve ever experienced.

womens start

The women’s age group start. I’m in there!

Leg 1 would take me ~40 minutes and I focused on my breathing, sighting, reaching, sighting, and brining my body over my arm. And sighting.

About half way through the swim I took just a few seconds to take it all in. I’d caught up with a few men (!!!!) and a few aqua bikers had caught up with me. I looked at the beach and smiled knowing my support team was there, waiting for me to climb out of the water.

This is actually happening. This isn’t practice on Lake Banook, this isn’t the Navy Sprint warm up race. This is THE race, I thought. Now swim, finish it strong!

I came out of the water at 39:10, knowing that I kept it at my one of two speeds, “Steady as she goes”. The other being “Leave me laying for dead after 500M”.

exit water

Outta the way fellas, coming through.

I had mild fear of race brain. Fear of not being able to locate my sneakers, fear of forgetting the plan to take off the wetsuit and then run up the hill. Fear of forgetting fuel, sunscreen or not putting my helmet on before touching my bike.  T1 went seamlessly – if you saw my time (7:34) you may think differently, but the 400M+ climb up from Katy’s Cove to the Algonquin would clear up that confusion.

I could hear mom as soon as I got out of the water. Mike B. walked/ran up the hill with me, encouraging words all the way. I saw Tim taking photos and coaching me on. And I heard my friends cheer. Jenn & Mark had the biggest voices I’ve ever heard. And they were calling my name. I had no choice to be a grinning goof as I ran with my bike to the mount line. I’ve got this.

Amazing support. Amazing people.

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The mom’s cheering the athletes on!

And the bike. I had ridden the bike course just three weeks earlier, but I wouldn’t go as far to say that it was familiar. Fuel, fuel, fuel. I dug out my sandwich in the first 5K and had a picnic, loosened my legs, and get focused on the next 3.5-4 hours on my bike.

bike start

Amazing cheers from friends kept me smiling

My first thought as I neared the 10K point was: Ok, it’s time to get serious.  Do I want to finish this racing wondering if I could have done better, or knowing that I gave it my all? Let’s go.

mind

One of the highlights of the race course, was the partially closed course and Highway 1. Flawless pavement, lots of support and no traffic make for a cyclists dream. The fact that there were 2 loops made it so I always had someone near me on the course. I’ve done plenty lonely races, let me tell you. It’s true that some of those people whizzed by me in seconds, making me question if I was moving at all, but hey, they were there. I didn’t let their race interfere with mine.

I was feeling strong until kilometer forty, when I felt my first pain. My IT band was shooting pain from my hip, through my glute, and past my knee.

I couldn’t believe that my injury was coming back to haunt me so soon into my race. My IT band has never bothered me on the bike before. I was expecting some soreness in the run (which I got) but not on the bike. F*#@. I attempted to stretch on the bike and found that getting out of my saddle to pedal helped. At 60K I had to get off and stretch. Someone from a nearby aid station came to my rescue and offered salt tablets. I was skeptical that they would solve my problem (Do you have any dry needles?), but with no other choice I downed the four tablets he gave me (thank you, kind stranger) gave my legs one last stretch and hopped back on.

The final 30K were decent. I had no more pain, and despite the (up) hilly return, I stayed positive. Leave nothing on the road. The cyclists were fewer and further between, but I kept focus. I was averaging 25KM/hr and needed to remember that this is where I wanted to be – where I planned to be.  For a brief second I thought about some of the athletes that were likely minutes from the finish line. I commended them, and then crushed those thoughts. This is my race.

Seeing Coach Jeff and his wife Ashley at the turn off was like icing on the cake, for training with them in the cold winter months is where it started.

I reminded myself to eat more as I returned. Listening to more seasoned athletes, I knew that I may have trouble taking on calories for the final trek, so now was the time. Fuel, fuel, fuel. Gels, banana, Hammer.

I saw my mom first as I retuned from the bike leg. I heard Tim, his family and my friends. I saw Gus and Dawson dogs. I made it in and out of T2 much quicker. Again, I heard Jenn & Mark cheering me through…when I went beyond the regular T2 activities (having a drink, stretching my legs, perhaps thinking of grabbing a little nap) I could have bet my allowance that I would hear Mark say “Get outta there Becky!”. I heard it before I actually heard it. It made me smile and most definitely got my ass in gear. Thank you.

I couldn’t believe I’d already made it through the swim and the bike portion. I knew I’d been out for over fours hours already, but in an inexplicable way time was flying. I was feeling high as I headed out to the run course and received a high-five from Shane.

A saving grace of getting off the bike at the Algonquin was the gentle decline for the first three kilometers. True, I would have to climb back up (twice!) but to loosen my legs and to feel strong at the start was ideal.

I have yet to talk about the volunteers and race crew of this race. It could be a separate blog post. They are amazing, they were up all night to clear the streets after the hurricane. The roads were spotless, all the aid stations were present, they cheered us on. The people of St. Andrews went above and beyond throughout the run. The water, the sponges and the hoses were my saving grace under that blazing sun. And when I ran through town with Kenny Loggin’s “Footloose” blaring through the speakers, I knew I’d died and gone to triathlon heaven.

The run was challenging, but I managed to keep my pace between 6:10 – 6:40 min/KM. I walked only when at the aid stations drinking. I knew if I stopped for a walk break, I’d be done for. High fives from some ironmen kept me positive as I rounded for my second loop. Even up that final slope to the finish line where I thought about letting myself take a little walk break, I powered through and kept on running.

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Blurry, but captures the moment of friends cheering me to the finish

And then I heard it.

My team. 🙂

“GO Becky”

“You MADE it”

“100 meters left!”

“Amazing, Girl”

“Becky!”

Then, and now when I write this, I tear up.

The support I’ve had every step of the way – from people that may not even realize it – has made this experience more than I could have ever hoped for.

Crossing the finish line was surreal. I wish I could slow it down, or possibly relive it. I kept running an extra 20M to ensure that I was actually over the mat.

A medal. A Finisher T-shirt. A huge hug from my mom.

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In September I set up a goal time of 6:35:00, not knowing many factors (T1, surprise vacation/eating binge, and a 2 month long injury that prevented me from running, etc.). I’m not making excuses; I’m saying that my completion time of 6:45:20 sat really, really well with me, all things considered. Two years ago I ran the Bluenose half marathon for a time of 2:18:10, which was only 20 seconds faster then this half marathon and I had a few other activities beforehand!

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And the fun post-race events that I loved every minute of:

  • The soak in Katy’s Cove with mom’s company.
  • Eating that Mars bar I had tucked away (in transition) for the occasion.
  • That shower. Oh, that shower.
  • The lie in the sun, with Tim, Karen and Gus with an ice-cold cider. Tim you’re the man for me.
  • The awards banquette.
  • The post Halifax Triathlon Club photo shoot/hang out/ice cream. You guys are amazing.

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Loved. Every. Minute.

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I love the people that were there to share this experience and their support I felt from home. To all the people that trained with me, early in the morning, mid-day, early evening; thank you, I know some workouts were better than others (Scott, I’m especially sorry about that bike ride in mid-May). To the people that lent me advice, on everything; thank you. And finally, to the people that have been so patient with me over the past six months (or more) as I put parts of my life on hold to train; thank you and I’ll be reaching out to you for a proper catch up (likely over wine).

Thank you Mom for your continued support and joining me to St. Andrew’s. It was amazing to have you there!

And thank you Tim, for knowing that I could do it. For pushing me out of bed at 5:30am, for walking the dog. Every morning. For making me dinner when I was too exhausted and cleaning up. For picking up spare tire tubes, gels, and other tri gear. For giving up your time to cheer me on always. You’re the best.

In the two hours I returned home from Challenge St. Andrews I had ventured to the hardware store, removed my broken screen door, primed the trim, scrubbed the bathroom and all my triathlon gear. Those chores that could wait until “after the race.” I’m looking forward to some down time…..but of course my head and heart can’t help thinking:

Now, when’s the next one?