Race Day!

August 11th, 2013 | Race Day | Athleta Iron Girl | Pleasant Prairie, Wi

Race days are among my favorite days of the year!  A chance to wake up early, do your best, connect with others, be exhausted, have an excuse to nap, feel accomplished, eat guilt-free, feel bad-ass.  August 11th was no exception; it was an awesome day!

My morning started with my seven year old crawling into bed at 3:15am as she often does.  I had two alarm clocks ready to go off at 4 a.m. but was already thinking about the race ahead when she nudged me.  Of course, I barely slept, spending hours somewhere between dreaming and visualizing my race, putting much confidence into the training that I've done over the last three months.  

Might as well get going as sleep was not likely with all the butterflies in my tummy.  Excited and ready, but still nervous.  Kissed my kids and husband thinking how peaceful and beautiful they all are.  And how lucky I am to have them.  

The drive out to Pleasant Prairie was easy and fast.  I kept thinking what crazy people must be on the road at 4 a.m.  When I saw the oval white stickers or bike racks on the back of their cars, I knew they were crazy like me, heading to the triathlon.  

Athleta Iron Girl is exciting.  It is an all female race and they put on a terrific event.  There was fog off the water and gorgeous colors in the sky.  The water was smooth (thank God!) and the temperature was perfect.  Again I thought of how lucky I am to be here, healthy enough to race, cancer free.  And I thought about my Dad, whose birthday is August 11th, and how much I miss him. 

I saw a few teammates and coaches in transition.  Their friendly smiles were a terrific welcome.  Got set-up and organized.  Overpacked my transition bag and made a mental note to only bring the essentials next race.  Walking to the swim start I felt calm, really calm, calmer than I ever am.

I've come a long way in a year completing two surgeries (inplants in, uterus/ovaries out), finished up Herceptin IVs, ran a half-marathon, and embraced a general feeling that I am "done with cancer".  Please God, let me be done.

My mantra for the day was BREATHE.  Just breathe.  Take your time.  Enjoy it. I focused so much the previous year on getting to the finish line, being fast, looking like I knew what I was doing.  This year was so much better.  I took time to feel present and enjoy the journey.  I smiled and cheered for others.  I was as excited to see my teammates and other women finish as I was for myself.  This year I had nothing to prove.  Just a day to be grateful.  For so much.

The women of Team Phoenix did amazing.  I saw so many Athletes on the course and did my best to encourage each of them.  And I heard many "Go Team Phoenix" when I came around a corner or passed spectators.  It was so wonderful to see the support of the Team Phoenix family...our coaches, doctors, physical therapists, families, partners, volunteers, alumni and sponsors.  It was a terrific day to be part of this group.  So thankful that a few strong women had the courage and vision to get this started so many cancer survivors could feel strong.  

My race was not as perfect as I had visualized it earlier that morning.  I, of course, wanted a PR and PR bragging rights.  I did do the race in a shorter amount of time and felt pretty good about sharing that news.  But the timing chip and performance stats wasn't what it was all about me for me this year.  This year it was about appreciating how far I've come, how grateful, brave, resilient maybe, I have become.  I am still not perfect and know that I will never be.  My stats on an excel spreadsheet, with year over year performance and variance, does exist.  But what I feel best about is that I feel better on the inside.  Stronger, braver, and grateful.  

Last year, Sally Edwards spoke with Team Phoenix, and shared some inspiring words before the event.  The phrase that I remember most is "do this race forever".  I hope to do this race forever.  Or long enough to do it with my daughter.  Or my grandkids.   

Half Marathon May 4th, 2013

May 4th was Half Marathon day in Indianapolis, exactly one year after I completed chemotherapy treatment for breast cancer.  I felt much stronger on this day in 2013 than I did in 2012.  

Last year, I recall being very relieved that my final cancer treatment was complete.  I remember trying to fall asleep that night and having to repeat the phrase "You are going to be alright, you are going to be alright" over and over until I could calm down and find sleep.  I remember a feeling of victory that I had gotten through this treatment stage and I could get back to a life without so many IV needles.  I recall praying that my brilliant oncologist used the right combination of chemo drugs to kill any remaining traces of cancer in my body.  "Chemo kills cancer, so yeah chemo!"  I think I saw that on a greeting card.  Funnier now that I am done with chemo than when I was bald, eyebrow-less and eyelash-less.  

This year, I got to go the Indianapolis Mini Marathon with my husband and favorite running mate (although I am not sure if we have run together since before kids).  I felt good about my training having checked off all of the long runs and most of the short runs on my training calendar.  I also cross-trained much more than I had previously when training for long distance runs.  I've been a regular at spin classes and yoga this winter.  I also have taken up teaching a biweekly spin class which has been a fun kick in my routine.  

On our drive down to Indy, we talked about our race goals.  Mine was to run about a 10 minute mile, hoping to finish about 2:10.  The biggest part of my race goal was to not walk.  We kissed at the start, wished each other luck, and started our jog to the start line as soon as the crowd weaned.  It was a crowded race with over 30,000 participants in the 13.1 mile race.  We started with the other "10 minute milers" but it was congested and I had to weave around other runners, dodging curbs and other obstructions on the outside lanes.  

The miles went by quickly.  I mentally noted how I felt at each mile marker.  I was "running naked" i.e. without heart rate or gps tracking trying not to overanalyze my pace or heart rate and just have a good event.  Mantras such as "You've got this, Just keep running, Erin doesn't quit" helped me stay strong.  In my head, I was running at a similar pace as I had run my training runs so I felt like I would have enough to get through the race.  I ran the mile I was in, happy to be there, and keeping all thoughts positive.  

Then, with four miles to go, I felt like I had TOO MUCH energy left.  Like I had not pushed enough.  I picked up my pace and probably got closer to a 9 and a half minute pace.  I don't have the stats on the final 5K but I feel like it went much faster than the first three miles.  Some of my favorite songs got me to the finish line "Try", "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger", "Eye of the Tiger".  I finished with a smile on my face.  It was my seventh half marathon but probably the one I felt the best about.  I was not nauseous or dizzy or totally wiped out.  Maybe I didn't leave enough out there on the course.  I could have pushed more, but I wouldn't have run nearly as happy.  Or enjoyed the post-race bar hopping celebration.  

I was momentarily disappointed when I did see my final race results.  A 2:12 race with 10:08 pace.  

I guess we have to go back next year so I can get PR on the same course.  13.1 was the perfect distance to show how far I've come, how strong I am, how fun it is to get out of town with my husband for the weekend, and how much I love to run.

Team Phoenix

Why did you join Team Phoenix last year?

I've given brief answers to this question previously; "to stay positive, to be awesome, to just do it".  Short and sweet, that's me. Thinking now about the experience of Team Phoenix last summer always puts a smile on my face.  I knew the instant I heard about Aurora's triathlon team, while meeting with my breast surgeon and founder of Team Phoenix, that I wanted to be on the 2012 team.  Never-mind that I had just been diagnosed with breast cancer or that I hadn't even realized what a royal pain in the ass, cancer treatment was going to be.  

I immediately refocused my energy and attitude away from being a cancer patient and took on the role of survivor and athlete. My surgery and chemo treatments got scheduled and I did my best to be an upstanding patient (i.e. not pull the IV out of my arm as I once did in my 20s...ouch!).  Each doctor visit or infusion room appointment, I was busy on my phone or laptop planning out my recovery days and next workout.  I perused Tri websites and blew the budget on cool Tri gear.  I kept the triathlon goal in mind, each day, each treatment, each bath, each swim, each bike, each run, each negative thought.  Yep, I wasn't going to let cancer get in my way.

I looked forward to the Team Phoenix training nights, not so much for the workout itself, but for the support of being among women that had gone through all the cancer crap themselves.  I liked being among women with beautiful hair, an inspiration to me that mine would, at some point, finally grow back.  I liked feeling normal, or as normal as possible being bald and having a recent infusion of herceptin running through my body.  The Team Phoenix family didn't mind and I was less self conscious among them.  

I also really enjoyed watching my team get stronger, more confident with each workout.  Some learned to swim or accept the noodle.  Others learned that they really are athletes and the triathlon goal was not too large of one.  A few may not have realized that they could do it until race day.  It was wonderful to see my team cross the finish line with all the camaraderie of family, friends and volunteers in Team Phoenix colors.

It was a spectacular year.  I learned a lot about myself and what I am capable of.  I am thankful for the point of focus that triathlon training gave me.  I am so happy to be able to help the 2013 team get to the finish line at Danskin this August.