>Lessons Learned

>I had to write a report on “lessons learned” for work the other day and I figured it makes a good topic for a post-race reflection/wrap-up as well. Here are the top 4 take-aways from Syllamo that I came up with:

1. Slow and steady wins the race. And by wins the race, I mean gets 2nd. Haha. Steve posted results last night to here. I was solidly in 2nd place for the stage race of the females (Go Ashley who won the stage race OVERALL! Woopwoop) and 5th place for male and female (it appears that I’m 4th, but there’s a mistake….Travis Stiles should be listed in the men’s stage race, and he was ahead of me at both races) Anyway, this is exactly where I would want to end up at this race, at the peak of my racing season. The fact that this was my first race of the year, after 2 months of snowy weather, road/treadmill running, and 20 degree temps, is awesome. Going out slow and getting back to basics proves to get the job done. Work hard on the downhills and the flats; don’t overdo it on the climbs. Eat right; drink often. These mottos got me through 82 miles of racing efficiently and allowed me to stay strong.

2. Safety first. We all know I hate danger, but this race proves that I am somewhat justified in my worries! I don’t think I will ever go on another long run by myself without telling multiple people my route, and carrying a simple ziplock with matches and some other survival items. Also, it makes me realize that the “uncomfortableness” of tying a shirt around your waist is worth it; when it gets cold and I have it with me, it can make world of a difference. This sport comes with it’s risks – and giving up comfort when neccessary for the sake of being prepared is worth it.

3. I f-ing love America. It’s that simple. I just love our country, I love exploring it, I love running through the nooks and crannies of the mountains and the woods. I have very little desire to go abroad and race there until I have had the chance to run all over the US. I honestly just think our country has so many unique places and unique people, and until I appreciate all of that, I just don’t see a reason to go elsewhere.

4. I have chosen a sport that allows me to be a part of a very special group of people. I have known this before, but Syllamo really helped me gain another perspective on it. Ultrarunners (generally) are not out there running for Team In Training. We don’t say “raise money for ___ disease….sponsor me to go run an ultramarathon!” And nothing against those who do that, its just usually not what we’re out there for.

We’re out there because we know that when you run >26.2 you have no choice but to learn something about yourself each and every time. Many times it forces you to realize that you are not the center of the universe, that there are things greater than yourself (and greater than running/training), things out of your control, and teaches you to think quickly, be prepared, and maintain a positive outlook. For us, it doesn’t have have to be about getting people to donate money for every mile we run. Most of the people I meet who run these races don’t do it for charity – yet are some of the most charitable and humble people I know outside of the race. Ultrarunning gives us the perspective on life that we need in order to be better people each and every day, it’s not the thing that we use to show others that we are good people.

But most of all, I have found that ultrarunners are some of the friendliest and selfless people I know. They are willing to make conversation with strangers for hours on end. They will give you food and water, even when they’re low on it for themselves. They will cancel their race in a heartbeat to go help out in the search for a lost runner. It is impossible to really describe the camaraderie that comes with this sport, but it’s there. (Read this report here for more of the same feelings) These people are what will keep me involved in this sport long after my chances of winning a race are gone, and even long after my racing days at any pace are gone. If I can’t run, you better believe I’ll run a kick ass aid station. And hopefully one day maybe I’ll direct my own race. I look around, and I can’t think of a better group of people to surround myself with as I try to be more like them each and every day.

>3 Days of Syllamo

>*warning, this is the longest post ever…so grab a snack!*

Day Zero: Travel

Up at 4 am, I checked and double-checked my bags making sure I had everything: Three pairs of shoes, 40 Gus, Ziplocks of Perpetuem and HEED, hot weather gear, cold weather gear, rain gear, etc etc etc. As much as I would like to think that as long as I had the basics I could get anything else I needed in Arkansas – I wasn’t sure what the town would be like where I was going, and I didn’t want to count on that.
Arriving at the airport I stopped for water and a granola bar. When I saw the total came to $6.66 I was a little weary. Then, seeing that I’d be flying in one of those little prop planes I was a little more worried! Alas, everything was fine and there was no need to be superstitious. I arrived in Little Rock, checked out my rental car – a nice little Versus – and went to find lunch. Hoping to find some BBQ or something, I drove around for a bit, However, I was still “in the city” of Little Rock so there wasn’t quite was I was looking for – and so I settled for Wendy’s for the sake of time.

After lunch I headed out to Allison, a little town just north of Mountain View. The drive out there was pretty rural, but it was nice to see the mountains in site. I did make one stop on the side of the road at a “self-service” honey and jam stand! I was relieved to find a Walmart in Mountain View, and after checking in to Jack’s Fishing Resort I headed back there to pick up some groceries and then over to the race site. At the campground where the start/finish would be, I found the usual scene the day before an ultra – a couple people milling around and a few coolers – but otherwise a quiet place. Picked up my race number and headed back to Jack’s to make myself some fajitas for dinner. Then Survivor came on, and I was able to get to bed early.

Day One – 50K

Since this was just a 50K there was no need for an early start, so I was able to get out of bed at 6:30 and make a full breakfast of oatmeal and a bagel before heading over to the race site. They wanted us to be there around 8 for the 9am start to check us in and brief us on the course. Slowly people started to arrive, and the Race Director came out to introduce a few of the standouts this year (Dave Wakefield, multi-year winner of the stage race, Ashley Nordell – multi-year female stage race winner, and some others who have done the stage race each of the years it has been held.) He also told us that the trails we’d be running today were in great condition, and we were to follow the yellow and black striped flags.

A quick go and we were off – I watched the lead group take off fairly quickly, and settled into a rhythm with a couple others. The man I ended up running the majority of the race with was from Kansas City, and had done the race the previous year. He gave me his words of advice, but also scared me a little bit by saying that the 3-day race was harder than a 100. We worked well together – he pushed my pace on the downhills and the flats and I kept our pace quick on the climbs we walked. My main focus for the first 2 days was to really be aware of my heartrate and to keep my effort level from peaking. If I ruined my legs too early by pushing it too hard up the climbs; or hammering too hard the downhills, I’d be in trouble. I knew early on that I was in 3rd place – Ashley was in first, and another woman who was only doing the 50K/20K was in second. That was fine by me, as it was a pretty challenging course and I felt comfortable, but was still making good time. By mile 24 I had moved ahead of both the men I was running with, which made that last 8.5 miles back home pretty rough. I concentrated on staying on course, and when I hit the campground with 2 minutes before 6 hours hit, I had energy left to get to the finish in 5:59:35. Looking around, I was surprised as I wasn’t too far behind the lead group.

One of the pieces of advice I had heard from Kansas City man was to definitely take advantage of cold river water next to the campground. He said a soak in that would keep me in the game for the weekend. So minutes after I finished, I grabbed an Ensure to get some calories in me, and headed to my car to get my flip flops for a soak in the river. I saw another man waddling to his car, and I asked if he was headed there as well. He said he didn’t know if he could stand it, he felt pretty rough after the rocks today. I told him I wasn’t sure either, but I heard that it makes a big difference, so he shrugged his shoulders and said he’d come with, introducing himself as Mike from Chicago. We waded in up to mid-thigh, and there we met Jamie Anderson from Hot Springs, another of the stage race runners. We all exchanged stories of the day, then had to help each other back out of the water. Back at the camp dinner was being made, and Mike, Jamie and I sat down with some others and made some more friends. By that time, I headed back to Jack’s to meet my dad who had flown in for the remainder of the weekend. I was surprised at how generally tired I felt and was a bit concerned about the day to come, but the worst of it was mostly my toes taking a beating from running all day in wet socks. I was also starving, so I got my dad to cook me up another dinner of eggs and cheese!

Day 2 – 50 Mile – “This is where the fun begins”

Since this was a 50 on a tough course, we were given a 14 hour time cut-off, but with that comes an early wake-up time. At 4 am the alarm rang to make sure I was up for the 6am start. This morning people were slightly less cheery than before, definitely more nervous, and much more slow moving toward the start line. When Steve yelled “go”, you could actually count a second or two before anyone even started to move. Today’s trail would take us on 50 miles of the 100 mile course Steve had designed. The 100 was cancelled last fall, but will hopefully be held this year. All we knew was that this course was “challenging”….murmurs of if rivaling Masanutten surface, but no one knew for sure. It was going to be an out-and-back course, designed to follow the permanent blazes on the trails. An out and back course really is my favorite for anything longer than a 50K. You can leave things knowing you’ll come back to them, and you know exactly what is to come when you hit the 25 mile mark. It eliminates a lot of the thinking required for the run.

Today started out much slower – one because the lead pack was even feeling the effects of yesterdays 30 miles, but also because we start heading up into the mountains. About 2 miles in I had the lead pack in sight but had fallen off a good bit, and found a comfortable pace. I was surprised at how good I actually felt, but didn’t want to push my luck – I had a long way to go. I heard a voice speak up from behind me – “Hey, it’s Mike, your buddy from the river last night – how do you feel today?” I said I felt pretty good but wasn’t going to set any records today, and asked him how he felt. He said he felt good also, and his only goal for the day was not to get lost. I laughed as I remembered his story from yesterday where he got lost when he was about a mile from the finish, and said I think we can make that happen. For the next 4 hours Mike and I ran together, alternating pushing each other up the climbs and keeping each other busy with stories so we didn’t think about the actual running we were doing. One of the 10 mile stretches of trail was particularly brutal. The ice storms from the year before, as well as the tornadoes they had recently, tore up the trails and the trees. Most of the trail was completely banked on the mountain, so you were either falling off the ledges or just running with your ankle cocked to the side. And for the brief sections where there were no rocks, there were plenty of downed trees to jump over or slide under. With the condition of my toes from the day before, I did my best to put the feelings of blisters forming out of my head. It also helped to have my dad out there today – he was in charge of documenting the race with my cameras at each of the aid stations. It turns out that means that most of the pictures he got are of me eating, but oh well!

About 10 minutes after left the 19 mile aid station, mike started having some stomach issues and dropped back. I was concerned, but obviously this was nothing unusual, so he thanked me for the run we had so far, and I went on my way. I headed out to the turn-around, and saw I was in 6th place. The only female ahead of me was Ashley, and then there was 5 other guys, one of whom was only about 4 minutes ahead of me. I was in good company, and that gave me the confidence boost I needed to get back up the climb at the half-way point. I also saw Mike at this turn-around, and he was about 6 minutes behind. He smiled, gave me a high-five and said he felt a ton better, and he’d see me up there.

At this point I was counting down the miles and I was on a roll. My legs felt better today than they did the day before, and my stomach was giving me no troubles at all. I was rocking the perpetuem, S! caps and GU on my usual schedule, and augmented that with saltines with PB and mountain dew at the aid stations. It was like magic. Plus, the weather was 40s and drizzly – absolutely perfect! I kept running into Jamie at the aid stations on the way back, but he would leave a minute or two ahead of me and I couldn’t get sight of him on the trail. With around 20 miles to go, I ran into a group who was still running towards the turn around and they said “Go get that guy in front of you! Ashley is in the lead! You girls are rocking it today!” That was all I needed, and as I hit a section of jeep road I picked it up a little. Turning back on the trails I finally caught sight of Jamie up ahead. He must have heard me because he quickly stopped and turned around and said “THANK GOD! I’m hurting real bad, I need some conversation.” So I jumped in front, and we started chatting to pass the miles. The things you talk about with the people you run with are pretty unique, so Jamie and I got to know each other pretty quickly. He had also seen Mike close behind at the turn around, so we both looked back from time-to-time expecting to see him. The only other company we had for the last 15 or so miles was brief – a runner who had the energy left to really get moving for those miles came through quickly. At mile 9 we had the last manned aid station, so I checked in with them to see the status of the leaders. I found out that Ashley was winning, and her 2 strongest competitors had both dropped, putting Jamie and I tied for 4th place! Woohoo. That was all I needed, and we headed down the trail again. The last 9 miles are some of the nicest. Jamie and I stuck together – he swore he was going to drop before he saw me and I was the reason he kept going, but truthfully he was the one keeping me running. Finally we crested the top of the final climb and heard a cowbell. “There it is!” He said as we came down the steep descent into the campground. “You go ahead, I’ll follow you in.” No way I said! We’re finishing together. With a little more convincing he conceded and crossed the line even with me, in 10:55:xx. Smiling seeing we were under 11, we both had a lack of words due to extreme tiredness, and set off to get comfortable and find some food.

After another soak in the river and some dinner, I asked Ashley if she had seen Mike come in. No – she was wondering the same thing, she said. Hmm. At this point so many other had come in, it really pointed towards him having dropped. Of course that’s not ideal, but who knows what may have happened in his last 25 miles, and sometimes that is the best option. I figured I would see him in the morning, and I went back with my dad to get some sleep before day three.

This was pretty much the worst night of sleep I’d ever had in my whole life. There were blisters in between each of my toes and on my heel, and I went through god knows how many hot flashes, sweating through my pajamas and just being super uncomfortable. I had a similar sleep after Western States, so I knew my body was going through some pretty weird stuff.

Day 3 – “where’s Mike?”

The arrival to the start for day 3 was even slower, though we did have the luxury of the 9 am start time again. I got out of the car and saw one of the men I spent some time with on the 50K and he told me that no one was signing in yet, because the race was up in the air at that point because one of the runners from the 50 mile was still lost from last night. Immediately I knew who it was, but I was hoping it wasn’t. Do you know who? I asked. “some guy from Illinois”. Yup – I knew it was mike. I went over to Liz, the RD’s wife, and gave her all the info I knew – what type of food and how much food he was carrying, water, clothes, etc. We also had plenty of video and a few pictures of him to help the others place who he was and try to figure out who had seen him They knew that he had made it through the 41 mile aid station at 3:10pm – about 30 minutes after I had left there. No one had seen him since. A couple of the guys had been out running that last 9 miles of the course twice over last night, going down the cliffs and looking for him everywhere. He also (obviously) never returned to the cabin where he was staying with some friends.

As more people collected for the race, one of the organizers gathered us together and gave us an option. We would be allowed to go out this morning on the run. If we did, they would just start a watch and we would sign in with our time when we finished. They also asked that we went out in pairs to prevent anyone else getting lost, since no one would be manning any aid stations for check points. The 12 miles of trail for Sunday’s race was in the other direction from the 50 mile, so we wouldn’t be interfering with the helicopters infrared search.

No one seemed very excited to run at that point, and quickly someone asked what was on all of our minds – how can we help search for Mike? We were told that the Forest Service would give us the okay at any point to join them in search parties and would definitely welcome our help. They just needed to get through a bit more of the searching by helicopter before they sent any more people into the woods. At this point a vote wasn’t even necessary – we all knew the race meant nothing right now, we wanted to help search. After about 30 minutes we mobilized at the ranger station with clothes and food, prepared to be out in the woods searching until 7-8pm that night. We had enough people for 4 groups of 10 to go out, each group covering 2-5 miles of the course where we thought he could be. As we were being briefed on how to properly conduct a search through the woods and be most effective, it really set in that this could be serious. There were plenty of places where you could trip and fall off the side of the mountain, and if the falling wasn’t bad enough, there were plenty of rocks along the way to hit your head on. And a night in the 30 degree cold weather in shorts and a t-shirt? Yikes. One of the couples in my search party had run 600+ ultras between them – and neither had seen a runner ever go missing for more than a couple hours. The fact that the sun had been up for several hours at this point and he wasn’t found was unnerving. I had to push these things out of my mind and stay positive, though. We set out searching, and diligently went through all the brush up the mountain for about 3.5 hours when finally we got the call – he had been found, and was tired/dehydrated/etc, but he was okay. He was about 20-25 miles away from where he should have been, well off course, and lord knows how far he actually travelled to get to that spot. As more of the story came out, we found out that he missed the turn onto the trail right after the 41 mile aid station. He eventually turned onto the wrong trail, and, well, two wrong turns in the woods and boom, you’re lost. With less than 2 hours of daylight, he had little to go on. At some point he hunkered down for the night, covering himself with leaves for warmth, and in the morning got up and started to walk again. He actually came across a group camping at one point, explained his problem, and said he needed to get back to the race start/finish. For whatever reason, the campers refused to help him, and he had to continue on blindly (he even offered them the $100 he had sitting up at his cabin). Luckily, we also had people out driving the jeep roads around the trails and one of the women came across him.

So the search was called off, and we happily came down off the mountain and enjoyed a few beers to relax. No one really minded that the 3rd day was called off. It could have been any of us that got lost out there, and the way everyone came together without question was more inspiring than anything anyone could have done out there on the run. We chose a sport that comes with sacrifice. One part of the sacrifice we often do not have to encounter is that of giving up the race. When you are out on the trail, situations can easily escalate and put safety into question. I feel honored to be a part of a sport where the participants will put the race behind them and help each other out first, no matter the price it has on the outcome of their race.

And that was that. My dad and I went in to town to have dinner at the Wing Shack, enjoyed our last night out in Arkansas, and I was up early again to make the 2 hour drive back to Little Rock for my flight Monday morning.

All in all, this race was a great experience – even without the 3rd day. The camaraderie that is present throughout the entire weekend is special and I would love to return again next year to give it another go. Whether it is a race weekend or just a good way to get in 100 mile training, it’s well worth the weekend to head down to Arkansas!!

>Vanity Card #001

>

When I was little I believed pretty much anything my older sister told me. One of these things was that ice cubes wouldn’t work unless you licked them first. Another was that my butt would shrink in size if I shimmied along the floor on my butt, with my legs out straight in front of me for 10 minutes a day. I spent a year of my life shimmying and licking ice cubes until someone finally told me the truth.
Not funny then, funny now.
I had an intense urge to sing Leona Lewis at kareoke. My friends tell me there is no way the bar will have any Leona Lewis. I bet them a round of drinks that they do, and go put in my request for Bleeding Love, to which the bartender nods. My name is called, I take the microphone….and Tainted Love comes on.
Not funny then, funny now.
I had a decent first run at the ultramarathon and decided to do another. Six months later, I’m diarreaing in someone’s front yard in North Carolina at 3am, followed by a blackout. Wake up in a little po-dunk hospital in North Carolina to a nurse “cleaning me up” and giving me a catheter. Black out again. Wake up in the regional hospital in North Carolina to doctors who tell me I should probably never run again.
Not funny then, funny now.
I thought that banking would be a fun and enjoyable career, and spent 1.5 years of my life (that I will never get back) pretending that it wasn’t that bad.
Not funny then, still not funny (give it time).

>Questions

>Okay people. So I have big plans for my trip next week, and most of them are ideas to fill the downtime when I’m down in Arkansas. I have a new little mini video cam that I will be using to take videos of me as much is possible/practical during the event. Then I hope to combine all the vids together to make a sweet little montage of the trip. I also have a tripod for the camera, and one of my ideas is to be able to interview myself. But the questions I come up with would pale in comparison to the ones you guys would, I am sure. SOoooooooooo……fire away. The questions can be as serious or as ridiculous as you want. You can also specify when you want me to answer this question. But, I promise I will sit down in front of the camera and answer it at some point during my trip! Humor me, please. Obviously I make everything funny and awesome, but this is definitely a good one!!

>Caught In A Bad Snowmance

>I know what you’re thinking….
Aw man, not another person bitching on their blog about the snow and how horrible it is and how it makes training nearly impossible!

But, I am just another person bitching on my blog about the snow and how horrible it is.

In the past 6 years where I would consider myself truly attempting to “train” in the winter, I have not seen snow like this. It’s everywhere. Gone are the days where I could peacefully run down the city sidewalks minding my own business. Now I am running in the roads, dodging dump trucks full of snow, bobcats, idiot drivers, lawn furniture, and other pedestrians. I am covering less miles in more time, at a time when I am needing to put in the most miles before tapering for Syllamo.

The good news? I have a hunch this race will hurt so much that at this point I can’t cram in the training I’d need to (regardless of the weather conditions) to really make that any easier. So, I will be doing some sweet 4-5 hour runs followed by 2-3 hours on Sunday the next few weeks, and I’ll just hope for the best. I always manage to pull through.

In other news, something that also interested me throughout the snowy days was the range of reactions from people. Many people were angrier….it was difficult to get to work, come back from work, drive anywhere, get food, even walk anywhere. The anger came through in ways like not stopping to help push out a car, or not moving over to give you room to walk somewhere in the road. Others were much nicer. Crime rates were super duper low, neighbors were helping one another shovel the roads, many were in just generally jovial moods due to an unexpected week of break from life.

The reaction that intrigued me the most was how territorial and defensive people became. The chair in the parking space move is perhaps the most obvious of these. Digging out your spot on the street entitled you to that little peice of land – so long as a chair was marking it. Shovelling was often limited to “my steps” or “my parking pad.” People even staked their claim on the roads – those with the larger 4-wheel drive vehicles owned the road those first few days. I saw pick-up trucks playing chicken with each other in a one-lane snowy road. There was a sense of entitlement that came to those who did not lose their mobility during the storm.

I consider us lucky that this was just a blizzard, and not a true disaster where people deemed “survival of the fittest” as the only option. And while I am as guilty as anyone else and had many moments of both the positive and negative reactions, perhaps during this lenten season I will make an effort to be less defensive and more considerate to those around me – blizzard or not.

>Anything Ben can do, I can do better*

>*except for running.

Holler peeps it’s time for a rhyme,
Grab a seat if you’ve got the time.

Some white stuff is coming down out of the sky,
Bread, milk and TP is what the people buy.

The mexis gather round the chimney with care,
In hopes that whatever they pray to would soon be there.

Denise sets up camp at Du Burns Arena,
This wet ass snow will not make her cleaner.

The bars open up to serve drinks and din,
To stay in tonight would be a mortal sin.

Get your lawn chairs ready to mark that spot,
This snow’s comin’ in, ready or not!

>Stolen from Slowtwitch

>So I haven’t blogged for awhile now and it’s mostly because I haven’t known what to write about. My training is still in the early phases, so nothing too earth shattering (too soon?) there. I will wrap up phase/month1 with the half marathon in Miami. My goal time is 1:37. I haven’t trained properly for a half marathon by any means and am probably drastically underprepared, but I am excited to try and go for it, so I will. I did back to back long runs Sunday/Monday and judging from how my legs felt yesterday that was a bad choice, but those runs are going really well and I’m excited for that. Oh, and the Nordell duo signed up for 3 Days (again) so I’ll get to compete against the 2x (3x?) returning champ. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Anyway, due to my lack of creativity for a post, I headed to Slowtwitch and stole the questions from their recent interview with Joanna Zieger and I interviewed myself. The only answer I overlap with her on is the first…..
What is the most overrated virtue? Underrated?

The most overrated virtue is patience. If I was patient, I wouldn’t be running ultras or Ironmans in the first place. The time is never “right” ….the moment is never perfect. It’s up to you to decide to do something and go after it. People often encourage me to take it easy – don’t try to do all these sweet things when I’m so young. What will be left for me to accomplish in 5-10 years? That’s the great thing about ultras. There’s always one more mountain to run up. There’s always one more way to challenge myself. And this way, if it all ever ends, for one reason or another, at least I can be satisfied with what I got to do.

The most underrated virtue is creativity. Things get crazy, especially when you’re an age grouper trying to balance life, love and the pursuit of happiness. But all you hear is about people saying that to be successful at it you need to be disciplined and focused. And while those are important things too, it’s important to get creative! Find ways of training to make yourself better AND have fun, meet people, etc. Keep it new, keep it interesting. Find ways to get in workouts that still leave you time to go to happy hour or brunch. Sometimes you need to think outside the box, but it’s gotta be possible to have it all. Because if you can’t maintain that balance, if you’re not winning, you’ll burn out and forget about why you’re competing in the first place…
What are some things that every elegant woman should have?

A catchphrase. Think about it – Coco Chanel, Marilyn Monroe, Paris Hilton….all have their little sayings. What’s mine? If you can’t be good, be good at it….If you can’t be good at it, just be pretty.

Oh, that and an always have an avalanche shovel.

Do you ever think about money when in a race?

Of course. You can’t be in that much pain and help but at point to curse the fact that you probably spent thousands of dollars to put yourself through it. Or the fact that I could be lying on a beach in some exotic land and have hired a small child to bring me drinks with those dollars. Sigh.

I believe in….. God? A metaphysical whatever? The human spirit? Love? The devil? Yahweh? Mohammed? Nothing? Random chance? Fate? Luck? The Great Pumpkin?

I believe that humans are smart, rational beings that have the ability to do the right thing and make themselves happy. Just takes some of us longer to find the initiative to be in control of that.

Why are so many excellent triathletes so smart? Mari Rabe is a Rhodes scholar, Scott Tinley got his PHD, Ray Browning has a PhD, Sri Lindley and Karen Smyers are Ivy Leaguers, you have a doctorate … Can a dumb triathlete be very good?

Smart people are more likely to make more money. Smart people are also more likely to be bored with mundane things. Therefore smart people are probably the most willing to spend so much on racing equipment. The nature of the beast sifts out the poor man. And if “dumb” means no Ivy League degree or PHD, then yes, a dumb triathlete can be very good. Same principal as in life applies here…book-smart doesn’t equal tri-smart.

If an asteroid hit the earth while you were leading Ironman Hawaii — given that the asteroid didn’t hit immediately nearby but was large enough that disastrous consequences were looming — would you finish or would you stop and hug your husband Mark and your mom and dad?

ummm, hello? I would finish the race. Family would understand.

If tri is swim bike and run plus transitions, is in-race urination the fifth discipline? What woman is best at this special skill?

Sure. I am definitely a contender for the best at this one. Although I can’t pee off the bike, I have mastered the “hold it until the aide station is in view, let it go slowly and grab water to wash it off of you” trick. I also am good at finding the perfect angle to squat behind a tree so no one can see my muffin….even if it’s a skinny birch tree.

Is it even possible to use makeup during a race? If so, what do you use?

I never really wear much makeup, but I also never leave the house without mascara on. Race morning included….waterproof, obvi. You never know who you’ll meet and take pics with! And if you’re not going to win the race, you should at least try to be the prettiest while competing.

What scares you the most?

Getting pushed into the harbor on a run in the winter. Falling off a mountain. The thought I may never going through with any of my sweet ideas and inventions I have. Never getting to the point of “my absolute best” before I can’t compete anymore.

Do you ever watch your races on TV? Why or why not?

I always watch them. The footage is never of me, but I watch them.

>Ask Jeeves

>Where are you now?