"In the darkness before the dawn
In the swirling of the storm
When I'm rolling with the punches, and hope is gone
Leave a light, a light on"
I have to admit - 6 months ago life seemed pretty hopeless. Most of what I was going through has been documented on this blog so I won't go into it again, but shit sucked and I was in a pretty bad place. Excuse my language. AND what a difference 6 months makes.
To be completely honest, I am a different person than I was 6 months ago both mentally and physically. The two years prior had just been one thing after another and I was tired. At that time, I think I was refusing to believe how bad off I was, but now I with the weight lifted, I can look back and think "I might have been acting not so normal." I think anyone that was in the situation I was in would not have been acting normal, but I am pretty sure I handled it poorly than most. I was angry. Very angry. I was sad. Actually, I was depressed. I couldn't focus on work. There were days I pretty much just spent in a fog and really couldn't remember anything I did that day when I got home at night. I think the best way to put it is that I was a walking husk of a person. I was physically going through the motions, but things seemed so pointless that I was mentally checked out. I tried to make myself feel, but I think the only emotion I felt for awhile there was anger - I hated everything. My first 3 years in New Mexico have been bipolar (SEE WHAT I DID THERE).
There was a lot of bad, but I have met and made some great friends, got
married, and got more involved in triathlon. In the end, the bad had started to outweigh the good. I was pissed I made the decision to move here, pissed that I chose the job I did, and pissed that I wasted my time with grad school.
But then things started to happen. Little sparks that started giving me hope again. Each spark was a life line. I grabbed on to those lights and held on tight. And then, I started living again. And not in the literal sense, but in the sense that it was ok to look forward to things, to hope for something. I started to enjoy my life journey again. I came back from a few weeks off from training more refreshed mentally. For once, I have been letting myself enjoy the "now". While I am looking forward to all the the races and other stuff planned for this year, they are not my sole focus anymore. I am learning to enjoy the journey to get there (be proud Liz - I know my countdowns drive you nuts!). I don't wake up dreading the day anymore. 2+ hour runs have suddenly become much easier (well not physically) and going to work is not the worst thing ever anymore. I smile now. I actually genuinely effing smile and that is something that I haven't done in a long time.
Thursday, February 18, 2016
Monday, November 23, 2015
This is a heart thing
"The numbers say “you finished.” “You are an Ironman.” But they don’t
tell the whole story. They can’t capture the beauty or the grit or the
strength it took to dig deep when everything else says you can’t. They
say nothing about living your dream or breaking down walls. They’re not
what gives you the confidence to take on the next challenge. This isn’t a
numbers game. This is a heart thing."
Talk about a quote that captures the journey to Ironman. This year is going to be one hell of a journey.
For starters, this is the first time in a long time I have felt like "me" again. After 8 years of being on antidepressants, I am off them completely. This is step one of the journey to Norseman in August. I never really realized the "haze" I have been under. It is just a pill right? Problem is, antidepressants can actually make bipolar symptoms worse. Bipolar depression is apparently not the same as depression. So anytime spent on antidepressants for an extended period can make things worse. Which I think we have seen. They are not nice drugs and have ravaged my body and psyche, but now I can move forward and heal. The weight is now coming of much faster. I don't look so swollen anymore and I am not worried about collapsing during training or racing. My body and my mind are finally healing. There is no more fog in my mind, my focus is better, and the best thing - I have hope again.
As you know, triathlon is a way to free my mind. When I am training and racing, I am no longer bipolar - my mind is free. I don't have to think and I have a break from all the racing thoughts, anger, sadness, and anxiety. It challenges me as a person and when I push myself to my absolute limits - I know I will make it.
Out of this crazy need to reach my limits, I put my name in the lottery for Norseman Extreme Triathlon. It is also a full iron distance triathlon. To many, this is considered a bucket list race and the hardest triathlon on the planet. Only 250 lucky athletes get in and out of those 250 only 36 women get in and out of those 36 only 18 foreign women are given spots. I just happen to be one of those 18. I had already signed up for Ironman Texas in May and was wary about taking the spot since the races are only separated by 3 months. BUT I don't know if I will ever get this chance again, so I took it. It takes place in Norway, features a swim with 50 degree water, an overall elevation change of 16000 ft, and a hike up a mountain to the finish line. On top of the extreme course, you have to provide your own support crew. To me, this is the pinnacle (besides Kona), and in my mind if I do this, I have finally won. It seems like a silly idea that I see a triathlon as proof, but when I finish at the top of the mountain it literally symbolizes my climb out of darkness.
And so, I have begun this crazy journey of doing two ironmans in 3 months along with two half iron distances. As I continue on, I get to heal. There has been a lot of damage done, but there is hope now. There is a light at the top of the mountain.
Talk about a quote that captures the journey to Ironman. This year is going to be one hell of a journey.
For starters, this is the first time in a long time I have felt like "me" again. After 8 years of being on antidepressants, I am off them completely. This is step one of the journey to Norseman in August. I never really realized the "haze" I have been under. It is just a pill right? Problem is, antidepressants can actually make bipolar symptoms worse. Bipolar depression is apparently not the same as depression. So anytime spent on antidepressants for an extended period can make things worse. Which I think we have seen. They are not nice drugs and have ravaged my body and psyche, but now I can move forward and heal. The weight is now coming of much faster. I don't look so swollen anymore and I am not worried about collapsing during training or racing. My body and my mind are finally healing. There is no more fog in my mind, my focus is better, and the best thing - I have hope again.
As you know, triathlon is a way to free my mind. When I am training and racing, I am no longer bipolar - my mind is free. I don't have to think and I have a break from all the racing thoughts, anger, sadness, and anxiety. It challenges me as a person and when I push myself to my absolute limits - I know I will make it.
Out of this crazy need to reach my limits, I put my name in the lottery for Norseman Extreme Triathlon. It is also a full iron distance triathlon. To many, this is considered a bucket list race and the hardest triathlon on the planet. Only 250 lucky athletes get in and out of those 250 only 36 women get in and out of those 36 only 18 foreign women are given spots. I just happen to be one of those 18. I had already signed up for Ironman Texas in May and was wary about taking the spot since the races are only separated by 3 months. BUT I don't know if I will ever get this chance again, so I took it. It takes place in Norway, features a swim with 50 degree water, an overall elevation change of 16000 ft, and a hike up a mountain to the finish line. On top of the extreme course, you have to provide your own support crew. To me, this is the pinnacle (besides Kona), and in my mind if I do this, I have finally won. It seems like a silly idea that I see a triathlon as proof, but when I finish at the top of the mountain it literally symbolizes my climb out of darkness.
And so, I have begun this crazy journey of doing two ironmans in 3 months along with two half iron distances. As I continue on, I get to heal. There has been a lot of damage done, but there is hope now. There is a light at the top of the mountain.
Mount Gaustastoppen. The finish line is here.
Monday, November 2, 2015
Resetting, goalsetting, and dreamsetting
You never want to have to write about things that don't go according to plan. Well, two weeks ago things did not go to plan at all.
Ironman MD redo was two weeks ago. While I didn't expect to have the race I initially planned for, I still felt fit and felt it would still be a good day. Rescheduling flights and travel plans was chaotic and I wasn't able to fly out until Thursday afternoon because of work. I got into BWI at 930 pm and was racing Saturday morning, so this was going to be a heck of a turn around! My mom and I stayed in Baltimore Thursday night and drove to Cambridge Friday morning. With the reschedule of the race, the race directors were nice enough to have athlete checkin on Friday and bike check in until 930 pm that night! This never happens for IM events! Having all this in the same day made things more than chaotic though.
As soon as we parked, I had to put my bike back together to take with me to check-in so I could get it tuned up. I got to check-in, dropped my bike off for a tune-up, and then went to the athlete meeting. Once that was finished, we trekked back to the car so I could change and get a bike and a run in. Once I finished my bike, I met my mom at transition and dropped my bike there and ran back to the finish/expo area where we were parked to fill my gear bags for drop off. I actually felt solid running, but on the bike I felt off. I just attributed that to shaking off the traveling from the day before. Anyway, at this point my dad had arrived, so I quickly filled my gear bags and had my parents circle transition while I dropped my bags and so we wouldn't have to find parking again. AND FINALLY, I could get lunch! BUT our hectic day was not over. We were actually staying 30 miles away in Salisbury because there was no lodging available in Cambridge. Friends who do this one in the future, make sure you book lodging a year ahead of time for IM MD and be prepared to drop some money on it. I had originally decided on Salisbury from the get go simply because lodging is outrageous in Cambridge.
Seeing as I was completely exhausted by 7, I was out cold by 730 and slept relatively well (which NEVER happens) until my 330 am alarm. I had most of my stuff together already and we were out the door by 4 and off to Cambridge. My parents somehow found a guy who was renting out his lawn (for a fee) for parking right near transition!! So my walk was short and I got to avoid taking shuttles. I loaded my bottles onto my bike, double checked gear bags, booked it to the port-o-lets, and then went on to relax before I had to shove myself into a wetsuit. Also, I totally met somebody who lived in Los Alamos as a kid. SMALL WORLD.
Port-o-potty lines are fun guys! Especially in the cold and wind!
630 finally rolled around and I put my wetsuit on and then, the race director comes on the intercom. SHIT. I should point out that it was pretty friggin windy, but meh. So my first thought was that they were cancelling the swim. DAMMIT. Turns out a small craft advisory had been issued so they shortened the swim to 1.2 miles. REALLY!? Then they came on 15 min later and said just kidding, we are making it 3000 meters (800m short of the real iron distance) and start time had been moved to 730. JUST ADD THE 800 m BACK IN - the race is no longer an Iron distance anymore (I feel bad for the people where this was their first)!!! SO more waiting. Finally, it was time to line up. I got in line at the the sub 1 hour expected swim finish and was really skeptical about this rolling swim start thing. I, for one, am a fan of mass starts. I tend to feed of the adrenaline of the frantic mass start and I was still not quite feeling like I was getting ready to do an ironman. I needed a spark. Turns out, I didn't need it because once we started and I was battling the men out the inlet into open water I was feeling like it was race time. One thing I am not a fan of is two-loop swims. Since I was in the first group of swimmers, I had relatively (albiet choppy) clean water ahead of me and didn't have to do much in the way of passing. NOT true on the second loop. Sorry to all those I dunked and ran over - not on purpose actually! It is just hard to navigate around 1600+ of your best friends in choppy water. My goal was to be first out of the water in my AG, and I was. Had it been the full iron distance swim, I would have PR'd my best iron swim time by about 2-3 min (53-55 min) based on the pace I was going in much harsher conditions than my last one. I knew I was up there for the women too since there were only 2 women in the change tent before me and I felt relatively good. ALSO - I totally made the official race video at the swim exit!
I took longer in transition than I normally do because I was trying to dry off and get warmers, gloves, and a vest on. It was cold and windy, and I didn't want to spend the next 112 miles freezing my ass off. Finally, I got myself out of transition and ....oh holy headwind. YAY WIND. My bike splits the first 13 miles or so were slower than I expected, but I was trying not increase my power just to overcome the wind. Patience paid off and once we hit a more protected part of the course, my splits were hovering around 20 mph, while staying in my power zones (actually slightly lower). I can't really remember when the trouble started. I noticed my splits dropping off at around mile 40 - which I assumed was wind, because HOLY WIND BATMAN. However, when I came around on the second loop, power and speed really began dropping off. I remember a section where I was just spinning my legs and my cadence was really starting to falter. AND THEN, I was dizzy and I felt sleepy, not fatigued, but like I could literally fall asleep while riding. I was in salvage mode, I ate more food - it didn't help, I increased salt- no help, I ate drank more - no help. I was feeling nauseous and was having a hard time staying "in things." A guy I had passed way earlier came riding by and asked if I was ok and if I needed any nutrition or anything. WAS I EVEN BIKING IN A STRAIGHT LINE? WTF is going on. In fact, there is a big spot of 30-40 miles in the bike that I don't really remember, but I remember being there. Then the last 2ish miles were really bad. We were biking through town and there were lots of people lining the roads, but I was in serious trouble and really just had tunnel vision just trying to get back to transition.
I really thought I just not having a good day and needed to sit down for a few minutes before I took off on the run. I could handle a bad race - anything can happen in an Ironman. It never crossed my mind that I wouldn't finish. Once I dismounted my bike I started "walking" to go rack my bike. Walking is a relative term here. My mind said I was walking and I thought I was walking, but I was more stumbling. People were shouting for medical and I kept brushing them off saying I needed to go run. 10 ft later I couldn't stand on my own anymore. I still didn't think my race was over, but emergency personnel sure did. I am sure I was just peach to deal with. I know I kept telling them all I needed to do was go pee (I really really needed to pee), and I was obsessed with my hands and lips being numb. I think I passed out briefly, but if I did, I don't remember. I was in and out for about 3 hours until half way through the second bag of saline in the ER. And I was freezing cold. I don't think I was warm again until later that night. Also, I am pretty sure I was giving the guy setting up my IV a hard time when he dropped the thing and blood got all over my arm. Or I just wouldn't sit still. Either one. They discharged me saying I was dehydrated (bloodwork shows I wasn't) and that I was blacking out (shocker), and my ketone levels were so high they couldn't measure them. I felt well enough when I left that I noticed the clock said 6 pm.....I still had my timing chip on and 6 hours or so to finish before cut off. I tried to convince everyone and anyone I could and we should go back so I could finish the marathon. That didn't fly so well.
Later, when we were back at the hotel, I was just in a state of "what the hell just happened?" I know I was fine on my fuel plan, I know I wasn't dehydrated, and I know I was not undertrained. I immediately scheduled an appointment with my primary care for follow up. He noted a few things from the bloodwork they gathered - no evidence of dehydration, glucose levels normal, blood in my urine, and high white blood cell counts. One would think I would be fainting from lack of nutrition or dehydration, but that wasn't the case. He ordered another round of tests including an EKG. Fast foward to that Friday. Well everything came back normal EXCEPT for the EKG (inverse T-wave - which could many anything) and he was going to consult with a cardiologist. WHAT THE EFFING HECK IS GOING ON?! I still haven't heard anything.
So me, being an annoying scientist, did some digging on my meds. I switched to wellbutrin last spring and haven't really been the same physically or mentally since (see BLST 70.3 writeup). It can cause heart flutters, confusion, and dizziness in rare cases. It also does some weird things with weight loss, so it may be that I was having a hard time metabolizing things and my kidneys were in overdrive (wbc's, ketones, blood). Maybe at that level of exertion, I was experiencing some of the rarer side effects? Unfortunately, the pool of endurance athletes on wellbutrin is small, so no studies have been done. I am talking to my psych tomorrow about going off antidepressants completely - don't worry, I still have mood stabilizer and anti-anxiety meds. There are cases of bipolar where it has been found that an antidepressant is not necessary, in fact, in some cases it can make things worse. In my case it has been get fat or get sick. So I am done and fed up with them. Hopefully getting off wellbutrin helps and I see my EKG go back to normal.
The last few weeks I have pretty much stepped away from the sport to reset. I needed to actually be ok with what happened at MD. I finally came to the conclusion that I can't really feel guilty about it. I did everything right and there was nothing I could have done to prevent what happened. I also got a tattoo so I needed to be out of the pool anyway. I also know that I have improved. I PR'd my sprint time by 5 min from bike and run improvement. AND prior to my body quitting at IM MD, I was having a good race. As for goals for next year - I have IM TX, Vineman (assuming I get in), and IM AZ. All good things to look forward to. Finally, I have picked out a dream race - Isklar Norseman Extreme Triathlon (iron distance). See video below:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXFIKyYyQHY
Ironman MD redo was two weeks ago. While I didn't expect to have the race I initially planned for, I still felt fit and felt it would still be a good day. Rescheduling flights and travel plans was chaotic and I wasn't able to fly out until Thursday afternoon because of work. I got into BWI at 930 pm and was racing Saturday morning, so this was going to be a heck of a turn around! My mom and I stayed in Baltimore Thursday night and drove to Cambridge Friday morning. With the reschedule of the race, the race directors were nice enough to have athlete checkin on Friday and bike check in until 930 pm that night! This never happens for IM events! Having all this in the same day made things more than chaotic though.
As soon as we parked, I had to put my bike back together to take with me to check-in so I could get it tuned up. I got to check-in, dropped my bike off for a tune-up, and then went to the athlete meeting. Once that was finished, we trekked back to the car so I could change and get a bike and a run in. Once I finished my bike, I met my mom at transition and dropped my bike there and ran back to the finish/expo area where we were parked to fill my gear bags for drop off. I actually felt solid running, but on the bike I felt off. I just attributed that to shaking off the traveling from the day before. Anyway, at this point my dad had arrived, so I quickly filled my gear bags and had my parents circle transition while I dropped my bags and so we wouldn't have to find parking again. AND FINALLY, I could get lunch! BUT our hectic day was not over. We were actually staying 30 miles away in Salisbury because there was no lodging available in Cambridge. Friends who do this one in the future, make sure you book lodging a year ahead of time for IM MD and be prepared to drop some money on it. I had originally decided on Salisbury from the get go simply because lodging is outrageous in Cambridge.
Seeing as I was completely exhausted by 7, I was out cold by 730 and slept relatively well (which NEVER happens) until my 330 am alarm. I had most of my stuff together already and we were out the door by 4 and off to Cambridge. My parents somehow found a guy who was renting out his lawn (for a fee) for parking right near transition!! So my walk was short and I got to avoid taking shuttles. I loaded my bottles onto my bike, double checked gear bags, booked it to the port-o-lets, and then went on to relax before I had to shove myself into a wetsuit. Also, I totally met somebody who lived in Los Alamos as a kid. SMALL WORLD.
630 finally rolled around and I put my wetsuit on and then, the race director comes on the intercom. SHIT. I should point out that it was pretty friggin windy, but meh. So my first thought was that they were cancelling the swim. DAMMIT. Turns out a small craft advisory had been issued so they shortened the swim to 1.2 miles. REALLY!? Then they came on 15 min later and said just kidding, we are making it 3000 meters (800m short of the real iron distance) and start time had been moved to 730. JUST ADD THE 800 m BACK IN - the race is no longer an Iron distance anymore (I feel bad for the people where this was their first)!!! SO more waiting. Finally, it was time to line up. I got in line at the the sub 1 hour expected swim finish and was really skeptical about this rolling swim start thing. I, for one, am a fan of mass starts. I tend to feed of the adrenaline of the frantic mass start and I was still not quite feeling like I was getting ready to do an ironman. I needed a spark. Turns out, I didn't need it because once we started and I was battling the men out the inlet into open water I was feeling like it was race time. One thing I am not a fan of is two-loop swims. Since I was in the first group of swimmers, I had relatively (albiet choppy) clean water ahead of me and didn't have to do much in the way of passing. NOT true on the second loop. Sorry to all those I dunked and ran over - not on purpose actually! It is just hard to navigate around 1600+ of your best friends in choppy water. My goal was to be first out of the water in my AG, and I was. Had it been the full iron distance swim, I would have PR'd my best iron swim time by about 2-3 min (53-55 min) based on the pace I was going in much harsher conditions than my last one. I knew I was up there for the women too since there were only 2 women in the change tent before me and I felt relatively good. ALSO - I totally made the official race video at the swim exit!
Time to bike! (also, my outfit AND my bike match)
I took longer in transition than I normally do because I was trying to dry off and get warmers, gloves, and a vest on. It was cold and windy, and I didn't want to spend the next 112 miles freezing my ass off. Finally, I got myself out of transition and ....oh holy headwind. YAY WIND. My bike splits the first 13 miles or so were slower than I expected, but I was trying not increase my power just to overcome the wind. Patience paid off and once we hit a more protected part of the course, my splits were hovering around 20 mph, while staying in my power zones (actually slightly lower). I can't really remember when the trouble started. I noticed my splits dropping off at around mile 40 - which I assumed was wind, because HOLY WIND BATMAN. However, when I came around on the second loop, power and speed really began dropping off. I remember a section where I was just spinning my legs and my cadence was really starting to falter. AND THEN, I was dizzy and I felt sleepy, not fatigued, but like I could literally fall asleep while riding. I was in salvage mode, I ate more food - it didn't help, I increased salt- no help, I ate drank more - no help. I was feeling nauseous and was having a hard time staying "in things." A guy I had passed way earlier came riding by and asked if I was ok and if I needed any nutrition or anything. WAS I EVEN BIKING IN A STRAIGHT LINE? WTF is going on. In fact, there is a big spot of 30-40 miles in the bike that I don't really remember, but I remember being there. Then the last 2ish miles were really bad. We were biking through town and there were lots of people lining the roads, but I was in serious trouble and really just had tunnel vision just trying to get back to transition.
I really thought I just not having a good day and needed to sit down for a few minutes before I took off on the run. I could handle a bad race - anything can happen in an Ironman. It never crossed my mind that I wouldn't finish. Once I dismounted my bike I started "walking" to go rack my bike. Walking is a relative term here. My mind said I was walking and I thought I was walking, but I was more stumbling. People were shouting for medical and I kept brushing them off saying I needed to go run. 10 ft later I couldn't stand on my own anymore. I still didn't think my race was over, but emergency personnel sure did. I am sure I was just peach to deal with. I know I kept telling them all I needed to do was go pee (I really really needed to pee), and I was obsessed with my hands and lips being numb. I think I passed out briefly, but if I did, I don't remember. I was in and out for about 3 hours until half way through the second bag of saline in the ER. And I was freezing cold. I don't think I was warm again until later that night. Also, I am pretty sure I was giving the guy setting up my IV a hard time when he dropped the thing and blood got all over my arm. Or I just wouldn't sit still. Either one. They discharged me saying I was dehydrated (bloodwork shows I wasn't) and that I was blacking out (shocker), and my ketone levels were so high they couldn't measure them. I felt well enough when I left that I noticed the clock said 6 pm.....I still had my timing chip on and 6 hours or so to finish before cut off. I tried to convince everyone and anyone I could and we should go back so I could finish the marathon. That didn't fly so well.
Later, when we were back at the hotel, I was just in a state of "what the hell just happened?" I know I was fine on my fuel plan, I know I wasn't dehydrated, and I know I was not undertrained. I immediately scheduled an appointment with my primary care for follow up. He noted a few things from the bloodwork they gathered - no evidence of dehydration, glucose levels normal, blood in my urine, and high white blood cell counts. One would think I would be fainting from lack of nutrition or dehydration, but that wasn't the case. He ordered another round of tests including an EKG. Fast foward to that Friday. Well everything came back normal EXCEPT for the EKG (inverse T-wave - which could many anything) and he was going to consult with a cardiologist. WHAT THE EFFING HECK IS GOING ON?! I still haven't heard anything.
So me, being an annoying scientist, did some digging on my meds. I switched to wellbutrin last spring and haven't really been the same physically or mentally since (see BLST 70.3 writeup). It can cause heart flutters, confusion, and dizziness in rare cases. It also does some weird things with weight loss, so it may be that I was having a hard time metabolizing things and my kidneys were in overdrive (wbc's, ketones, blood). Maybe at that level of exertion, I was experiencing some of the rarer side effects? Unfortunately, the pool of endurance athletes on wellbutrin is small, so no studies have been done. I am talking to my psych tomorrow about going off antidepressants completely - don't worry, I still have mood stabilizer and anti-anxiety meds. There are cases of bipolar where it has been found that an antidepressant is not necessary, in fact, in some cases it can make things worse. In my case it has been get fat or get sick. So I am done and fed up with them. Hopefully getting off wellbutrin helps and I see my EKG go back to normal.
The last few weeks I have pretty much stepped away from the sport to reset. I needed to actually be ok with what happened at MD. I finally came to the conclusion that I can't really feel guilty about it. I did everything right and there was nothing I could have done to prevent what happened. I also got a tattoo so I needed to be out of the pool anyway. I also know that I have improved. I PR'd my sprint time by 5 min from bike and run improvement. AND prior to my body quitting at IM MD, I was having a good race. As for goals for next year - I have IM TX, Vineman (assuming I get in), and IM AZ. All good things to look forward to. Finally, I have picked out a dream race - Isklar Norseman Extreme Triathlon (iron distance). See video below:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXFIKyYyQHY
Friday, October 9, 2015
A sucker punch to the gut
It's been a rough few weeks. If you have been following my posts, you know that things mentally have been rough, but Ironman Maryland has been my beacon of hope. In the weeks leading up to MD, I was scrambling to find funding so I would have a job after fiscal year end. I literally did not have employment until the week before MD. Keeping my mental state in check was turning into a struggle. I finally cried the day before I left for MD and I was defeated. Everything that has happened the past year had finally caught up and I was overwhelmed. I was crushed.
But at least I had IM MD. I had been obsessively following the weather and tropical storm Joaquin and how it would impact Cambridge. Cambridge is notorious for flooding because it is so low lying. There was no word from the race directors on the race status, so we went ahead and flew to MD. Once of the plane, an athlete was live tweeting the athlete's meeting and the race was a go. It was going to be a very wet and windy one, but I was relieved that the race was still on. I didn't care, I just wanted to race.
Two hours later, we were in the car heading to my parents house when I was checking facebook for race updates. And bam. The race had been canceled. I can't really describe how I felt, other than I was stunned. I had spent the past year focusing on it because I had channeled all my anger, sadness, and anxiety into training for this race. People are right when they say that Ironman is so much more than just a race.
The race had been rescheduled for Oct 17th. How the hell was I going to pull traveling cross country again in two weeks? I was worried that my fitness wouldn't be there, that I couldn't take more time off work, and if I would even be into mentally. I basically spent a few days moping. I did some workouts in MD, but I didn't know if it would be enough. So this week I need to make a decision.
After days of going back and forth of whether to try and get a spot in IM AZ or travel back. Finally, I got fed up and decided to screw my head on straight and refocus. I was going to go back and do MD. My fitness will be there because I did the work. A weekend would not screw up my race. Yesterday I ran a little over 7 miles at the fastest pace in training this year. I have to remember that IM is mostly mental, just like swimming. Oddly, the cancellation may be a blessing in disguise. I feel better mentally and physically and I am going into next weekend with far more confidence.
So now I am getting excited again. I cannot wait to be at that start line. I cannot wait to swim with 2000+ (assuming people can make it back) of my best friends. I can't wait to be at mile 25 of the marathon realizing I only have 1.2 miles left. And crossing that finish line will mean so much more than just crossing - it means I have endured and beaten everything thrown at me this year. It is time to move forward and rid myself of the baggage.
"At the start of an Ironman you have never felt more alive. There is the feeling that anything and everything is possible."
But at least I had IM MD. I had been obsessively following the weather and tropical storm Joaquin and how it would impact Cambridge. Cambridge is notorious for flooding because it is so low lying. There was no word from the race directors on the race status, so we went ahead and flew to MD. Once of the plane, an athlete was live tweeting the athlete's meeting and the race was a go. It was going to be a very wet and windy one, but I was relieved that the race was still on. I didn't care, I just wanted to race.
Two hours later, we were in the car heading to my parents house when I was checking facebook for race updates. And bam. The race had been canceled. I can't really describe how I felt, other than I was stunned. I had spent the past year focusing on it because I had channeled all my anger, sadness, and anxiety into training for this race. People are right when they say that Ironman is so much more than just a race.
The race had been rescheduled for Oct 17th. How the hell was I going to pull traveling cross country again in two weeks? I was worried that my fitness wouldn't be there, that I couldn't take more time off work, and if I would even be into mentally. I basically spent a few days moping. I did some workouts in MD, but I didn't know if it would be enough. So this week I need to make a decision.
After days of going back and forth of whether to try and get a spot in IM AZ or travel back. Finally, I got fed up and decided to screw my head on straight and refocus. I was going to go back and do MD. My fitness will be there because I did the work. A weekend would not screw up my race. Yesterday I ran a little over 7 miles at the fastest pace in training this year. I have to remember that IM is mostly mental, just like swimming. Oddly, the cancellation may be a blessing in disguise. I feel better mentally and physically and I am going into next weekend with far more confidence.
So now I am getting excited again. I cannot wait to be at that start line. I cannot wait to swim with 2000+ (assuming people can make it back) of my best friends. I can't wait to be at mile 25 of the marathon realizing I only have 1.2 miles left. And crossing that finish line will mean so much more than just crossing - it means I have endured and beaten everything thrown at me this year. It is time to move forward and rid myself of the baggage.
"At the start of an Ironman you have never felt more alive. There is the feeling that anything and everything is possible."
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Toughman is tough.
"There are many limits in life, but the only limit in achieving greatness is telling yourself no"
Sometimes you have to dig deep. Sometimes you have to screw your head on right and remember why you do something. This past weekend I competed in Toughman NM 70.3. Long course triathlon has been absent in New Mexico for quite a few years, so I jumped at the opportunity to be an ambassador the race to help promote it. However, the closer the race came, the more I dreaded it. This race seemed like the biggest hurdle of my season, even with a full IM coming up in October. Why? Well let's just say this race lives up to its name. It's at altitude. The bike course was 2500 feet of climbing and the run had 796 ft (869 ft by my garmin). The swim was also ~300 meters longer than 1.2 miles. Elevation profiles are shown below:
Run:
Bike:
The week leading up to Toughman, I was seriously panicking about it. I kept telling myself I couldn't do it. This was going (and was) to be my hardest triathlon to date. AND, it would be the first time I trained through a half. This is not a race you come to do a PR, it is a race you come to survive. I knew this was not going to be fast, so I set some pretty conservative goals for it. I hoped to be under 6:30, but honestly didn't think I could.
So basically I came into this race with shitacular attitude. Race morning I was up at 4, ate some breakfast and was out the door by 435, until I realized I had forgotten my front water bottle. So I turned around and went home to get it with my mood souring further. I was going to be late by my standards (I like to be in transition when it opens). Great. Should be a spectacular day.
Grumps all around! Anyway, I got to transition and started setting up my area and saw Liz and Jessica and my mood definitely improved. By the way, Jessica chose THIS RACE as her first 70.3. That is hardcore. Having friends that are about to go through the same hell you are going to go through makes things better.
And suddenly it was almost race start. I got in the water and warmed up a bit and then positioned myself in the front of the women's wave to avoid having to run anyone over. Oh god. This is going to hurt, but its just a half right? Thinking that way really gave me a mental boost. Only 6 hours versus 12 hours. Ok I can do this. The water was a lukewarm 75.6 degrees and therefore, much to my chagrin, wetsuit legal. I hate wetsuits - they are so restricting, but they have an advantage and I need everything I can get on the swim. The swim was two loops and the men went 10 min prior than the women and teams. I motored out on the start and got into some nice clean water. THIS IS AWESOME. Unfortunately, by the time I turned the second bouy, I had already caught up to the men's wave. I spent the remainder of the swim chicking the men, which felt really good! When I came out of the water, I noticed my time was 30 min and thought that wasn't right. When I looked at my data later, I confirmed that the swim was longer than 1.2. Whatever, I was still first female out of the water AND I had the 2nd fastest swim time out of men and women. BOOM. High five for swimming.
Per usual, I felt disoriented coming out of the water. I had to walk a bit to get it together, but somehow managed to get myself out of transition and on the bike. 1:19 T1 split on a half! It really felt like slow motion, but I was stoked to see that. Anyway, lucky for us, as soon as you come out of transition you get to climb "the wall." It is everything like it sounds. It is slow and painful. The trick is to managed your heart rate and make sure you down blow your ride in the first few miles. I stuck to my race plan and kept my power as low as I could on that hill. My plan was to build the bike. It was really hard to ignore those that passed me coming out of T1, BUT this is a long race. Reign it in and focus on YOUR race. In most long course races, there are going to be dark moments and for the first 15ish miles or so, I was not in a good place. I wanted to quit. I wanted to just stop. At one point, I even hoped I would have a mechanical issue so I could be done. When I started to wish for a mechanical, I realized what a little bitch I was being. Really Lani? This isn't you, turn it around. Ok how can I turn this around? I like riding my bike. I get to ride my bike today. I like racing. I GET to race today. I can do this. I love racing, I love triathlon, I love riding my bike, I love this challenge. And just like that, everything clicked. Once we got to miles 23-38, we had a wicked headwind and a crosswind heading up a long gradual climb. And I started to pass people that had passed me earlier. So the confidence started to build. I was actually going to smash the split I had in my head for the bike (3:30) and I ended up with a 3:12. That is friggin solid for this course.
And finally, the make or break of the race, the run. As of late, I have been running strong and not fading. I knew if I kept my shit together, I would have a good race. Knowing that the first 8 miles was pretty much just climbing, I figured that 2:30 would be a good split. Yes that sounds slow, but you would understand if you were on this course. I decided prior to the race that I was going to walk up "the wall" and it was a good decision. I managed to salvage my legs for the rest of the 8 mile climb. Not going to lie though, there were some points I was just frustrated and over it. It is humbling holding that slow of a pace. At around mile 6, I was passed by my friend Scott and he gave me some encouragement. Man did that help. People, never be afraid to cheer on somebody. IT HELPS. Ok 2 miles to the turn around and DOWNHILL. Miles 8-11 were amazing! BUT, once again Toughman had a trick up its sleeve. The last two miles are on an adventurous trail. So now that your legs are about to give out, you get to run on SOFT sand and trip over a lot rocks. BALLS. I should point out that I have been dealing with tendonitis in my right knee, so at this point it was starting to swell and good god it hurt. I knew there were two women closing on me, so I basically said eff it and went for it. I had come to far to be passed again. With my swollen knee I did my best to get through the rocks and the sand by basically dragging my leg lol. Pretty tragic, but at this point I knew I was having a seriously solid race. And finally, you get to go down "the wall" into the finish. Guys. I was emotional. I mean seriously, I was tearing up. I did not expect that, but I really went through a lot mentally and dammit, my knee hurt. I just finished the hardest race I had ever done, including IM Texas. I also hit 2:30 on the nose, for an overall time of 6:15. Much better than I expected. I also had hopes of top 10 (I was 6th) and hopes for 1st in AG (since I knew Liz would be overall podium :) ). So check. Goals accomplished.
I just want to say thanks to all of you for supporting me and believing in me. All the well wishes and congrats mean the world to me. So now we go for last one fast one. On to the final training push for IM MD!
Sometimes you have to dig deep. Sometimes you have to screw your head on right and remember why you do something. This past weekend I competed in Toughman NM 70.3. Long course triathlon has been absent in New Mexico for quite a few years, so I jumped at the opportunity to be an ambassador the race to help promote it. However, the closer the race came, the more I dreaded it. This race seemed like the biggest hurdle of my season, even with a full IM coming up in October. Why? Well let's just say this race lives up to its name. It's at altitude. The bike course was 2500 feet of climbing and the run had 796 ft (869 ft by my garmin). The swim was also ~300 meters longer than 1.2 miles. Elevation profiles are shown below:
Run:
The week leading up to Toughman, I was seriously panicking about it. I kept telling myself I couldn't do it. This was going (and was) to be my hardest triathlon to date. AND, it would be the first time I trained through a half. This is not a race you come to do a PR, it is a race you come to survive. I knew this was not going to be fast, so I set some pretty conservative goals for it. I hoped to be under 6:30, but honestly didn't think I could.
So basically I came into this race with shitacular attitude. Race morning I was up at 4, ate some breakfast and was out the door by 435, until I realized I had forgotten my front water bottle. So I turned around and went home to get it with my mood souring further. I was going to be late by my standards (I like to be in transition when it opens). Great. Should be a spectacular day.
Grumps all around! Anyway, I got to transition and started setting up my area and saw Liz and Jessica and my mood definitely improved. By the way, Jessica chose THIS RACE as her first 70.3. That is hardcore. Having friends that are about to go through the same hell you are going to go through makes things better.
And suddenly it was almost race start. I got in the water and warmed up a bit and then positioned myself in the front of the women's wave to avoid having to run anyone over. Oh god. This is going to hurt, but its just a half right? Thinking that way really gave me a mental boost. Only 6 hours versus 12 hours. Ok I can do this. The water was a lukewarm 75.6 degrees and therefore, much to my chagrin, wetsuit legal. I hate wetsuits - they are so restricting, but they have an advantage and I need everything I can get on the swim. The swim was two loops and the men went 10 min prior than the women and teams. I motored out on the start and got into some nice clean water. THIS IS AWESOME. Unfortunately, by the time I turned the second bouy, I had already caught up to the men's wave. I spent the remainder of the swim chicking the men, which felt really good! When I came out of the water, I noticed my time was 30 min and thought that wasn't right. When I looked at my data later, I confirmed that the swim was longer than 1.2. Whatever, I was still first female out of the water AND I had the 2nd fastest swim time out of men and women. BOOM. High five for swimming.
Per usual, I felt disoriented coming out of the water. I had to walk a bit to get it together, but somehow managed to get myself out of transition and on the bike. 1:19 T1 split on a half! It really felt like slow motion, but I was stoked to see that. Anyway, lucky for us, as soon as you come out of transition you get to climb "the wall." It is everything like it sounds. It is slow and painful. The trick is to managed your heart rate and make sure you down blow your ride in the first few miles. I stuck to my race plan and kept my power as low as I could on that hill. My plan was to build the bike. It was really hard to ignore those that passed me coming out of T1, BUT this is a long race. Reign it in and focus on YOUR race. In most long course races, there are going to be dark moments and for the first 15ish miles or so, I was not in a good place. I wanted to quit. I wanted to just stop. At one point, I even hoped I would have a mechanical issue so I could be done. When I started to wish for a mechanical, I realized what a little bitch I was being. Really Lani? This isn't you, turn it around. Ok how can I turn this around? I like riding my bike. I get to ride my bike today. I like racing. I GET to race today. I can do this. I love racing, I love triathlon, I love riding my bike, I love this challenge. And just like that, everything clicked. Once we got to miles 23-38, we had a wicked headwind and a crosswind heading up a long gradual climb. And I started to pass people that had passed me earlier. So the confidence started to build. I was actually going to smash the split I had in my head for the bike (3:30) and I ended up with a 3:12. That is friggin solid for this course.
And finally, the make or break of the race, the run. As of late, I have been running strong and not fading. I knew if I kept my shit together, I would have a good race. Knowing that the first 8 miles was pretty much just climbing, I figured that 2:30 would be a good split. Yes that sounds slow, but you would understand if you were on this course. I decided prior to the race that I was going to walk up "the wall" and it was a good decision. I managed to salvage my legs for the rest of the 8 mile climb. Not going to lie though, there were some points I was just frustrated and over it. It is humbling holding that slow of a pace. At around mile 6, I was passed by my friend Scott and he gave me some encouragement. Man did that help. People, never be afraid to cheer on somebody. IT HELPS. Ok 2 miles to the turn around and DOWNHILL. Miles 8-11 were amazing! BUT, once again Toughman had a trick up its sleeve. The last two miles are on an adventurous trail. So now that your legs are about to give out, you get to run on SOFT sand and trip over a lot rocks. BALLS. I should point out that I have been dealing with tendonitis in my right knee, so at this point it was starting to swell and good god it hurt. I knew there were two women closing on me, so I basically said eff it and went for it. I had come to far to be passed again. With my swollen knee I did my best to get through the rocks and the sand by basically dragging my leg lol. Pretty tragic, but at this point I knew I was having a seriously solid race. And finally, you get to go down "the wall" into the finish. Guys. I was emotional. I mean seriously, I was tearing up. I did not expect that, but I really went through a lot mentally and dammit, my knee hurt. I just finished the hardest race I had ever done, including IM Texas. I also hit 2:30 on the nose, for an overall time of 6:15. Much better than I expected. I also had hopes of top 10 (I was 6th) and hopes for 1st in AG (since I knew Liz would be overall podium :) ). So check. Goals accomplished.
I just want to say thanks to all of you for supporting me and believing in me. All the well wishes and congrats mean the world to me. So now we go for last one fast one. On to the final training push for IM MD!
Monday, July 13, 2015
There is hope
There are sometimes in life when you fall down and you feel like you don't have the strength to get back up.
"There comes a time when the blankness of future is so extreme, it's a blank wall of nothingness. It is horrible to contemplate a futureless future. The monstrosity of being alive overwhelms you."
This is how I have been feeling lately. I am angry, I am tired, I am feeling just hopeless. Friday morning I woke up afraid to leave my house (I have a anxiety and paranoia about being in public). I called in sick. I asked Logan to not go to a movie yesterday because I got overwhelmed about being in public while we were at Lowes. I am having serious doubts about myself and my future.
So why is that?
Sometimes I am so frustrated with the situation I am in with DOE/LANL I want to scream. I seriously just want to walk outside and get it all out. The most recent update in obtaining my security clearance is that OPM shut down the EQIP system, which means I can't even sign my paperwork to continue forward. They shut it down the day I was so supposed to sign the papers. REALLY?! I mean REALLY?!
It makes me wish I never got diagnosed. This is interfering with my career and my path forward. I can't continue to move forward with this not progressing. The problem is that I am a nuclear chemist, which means there are only so many places I can work. I am highly specialized and pigeon-holed in this field. It is pretty much government or bust since academia is NOT an option.
I WANT TO SCREAM. I recognized their concerns. I realize I made stupid decisions when I was younger and I realize I should not be drinking with bipolar or with the meds I am taking. They are right in that respect. And this last year of not drinking has truly been eye opening. BUT - it is the wait that is killing me and I feel shattered. It is making me regret my decision to become a chemist. I wish I had decided on something that is more employable. It feels like a waste of 9 years of my life. I could have enjoyed my 20s instead of being stressed. All for a PhD that is beginning to feel worthless.
SO what is the path forward? This is the first time in my life that I don't know what is next and it is terrifying.
How can I cope? As I mentioned above, Friday morning I was afraid to leave the house. I was having serious doubts about racing Saturday. I didn't want people to see me and I have been feeling extremely vulnerable. I was most definitely giving in to the blankness. So I started packing my race gear. I opened my front door and panicked a little. I was leaving the safety of my isolation. I loaded my gear into my car. I put my race wheels on my bike. I loaded my bike. I got in my car and started it and drove. I was digging myself out of the blankness one mile at a time. I was making myself look forward to something - in this case racing. This race was my "hope" on this particular day. I was going to do something that I enjoy. And I had a good race, especially after doing a half ironman less than two weeks prior. This day, I had won the battle against my mind. Another day moving forward. So while I am feeling like there is nothing, I am also finding small things that give me hope. The fact that I left my house gives me hope (I know some of you may find it silly, but I am giving you insight into the bipolar brain) and I have not given in to the blank nothingness that I am feeling.
"We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope" - MLK
"There comes a time when the blankness of future is so extreme, it's a blank wall of nothingness. It is horrible to contemplate a futureless future. The monstrosity of being alive overwhelms you."
This is how I have been feeling lately. I am angry, I am tired, I am feeling just hopeless. Friday morning I woke up afraid to leave my house (I have a anxiety and paranoia about being in public). I called in sick. I asked Logan to not go to a movie yesterday because I got overwhelmed about being in public while we were at Lowes. I am having serious doubts about myself and my future.
So why is that?
Sometimes I am so frustrated with the situation I am in with DOE/LANL I want to scream. I seriously just want to walk outside and get it all out. The most recent update in obtaining my security clearance is that OPM shut down the EQIP system, which means I can't even sign my paperwork to continue forward. They shut it down the day I was so supposed to sign the papers. REALLY?! I mean REALLY?!
It makes me wish I never got diagnosed. This is interfering with my career and my path forward. I can't continue to move forward with this not progressing. The problem is that I am a nuclear chemist, which means there are only so many places I can work. I am highly specialized and pigeon-holed in this field. It is pretty much government or bust since academia is NOT an option.
I WANT TO SCREAM. I recognized their concerns. I realize I made stupid decisions when I was younger and I realize I should not be drinking with bipolar or with the meds I am taking. They are right in that respect. And this last year of not drinking has truly been eye opening. BUT - it is the wait that is killing me and I feel shattered. It is making me regret my decision to become a chemist. I wish I had decided on something that is more employable. It feels like a waste of 9 years of my life. I could have enjoyed my 20s instead of being stressed. All for a PhD that is beginning to feel worthless.
SO what is the path forward? This is the first time in my life that I don't know what is next and it is terrifying.
How can I cope? As I mentioned above, Friday morning I was afraid to leave the house. I was having serious doubts about racing Saturday. I didn't want people to see me and I have been feeling extremely vulnerable. I was most definitely giving in to the blankness. So I started packing my race gear. I opened my front door and panicked a little. I was leaving the safety of my isolation. I loaded my gear into my car. I put my race wheels on my bike. I loaded my bike. I got in my car and started it and drove. I was digging myself out of the blankness one mile at a time. I was making myself look forward to something - in this case racing. This race was my "hope" on this particular day. I was going to do something that I enjoy. And I had a good race, especially after doing a half ironman less than two weeks prior. This day, I had won the battle against my mind. Another day moving forward. So while I am feeling like there is nothing, I am also finding small things that give me hope. The fact that I left my house gives me hope (I know some of you may find it silly, but I am giving you insight into the bipolar brain) and I have not given in to the blank nothingness that I am feeling.
"We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope" - MLK
At least I can still smile during my low moments.
Thursday, July 2, 2015
I tried and failed, but I didn't fail to try
This past weekend I raced BLST 70.3 and it was frustrating. Frustrating in the fact that nothing in particular went right, but nothing went wrong either. I have spent the last few days pretty much stunned with the way things turned out.
It was tough.
Physically, I was fine. I am nearly 20 pounds lighter, I have put on some serious leg muscle, and I am in the best endurance shape I have been in in years. I fully expected that this race would be my breakthrough race, but it wasn't. And that is a tough pill to swallow. The hardest thing about long distance triathlon is that if the race isn't going as planned, it is a long time to dwell on it. The key to salvaging your race is how you adjust mentally.
I realized things were off during the swim. It was not that I felt bad, it was that I didn't have that normal spark. It felt flat. I came out of the water at 26 min, which is slow for me on this course. I told myself that it was fine - the race does not completely rely on the swim. I changed my focus to the bike where I thought I could make up some ground. Climbing the hills out of the park felt ok, but again, flat. I kept churning my legs just trying to get up to speed, but going no where. It is so hard realizing that it wasn't happening today, but I had to keep going. I had to make this the best race I could. About 2 hours in, I knew I was not going to make my sub 3 hour goal. I had a moment of thinking why I did this to myself? Why do I work so hard, just to fail? Most of you know that I read a lot of inspirational writing because it helps me get through the days and deal with my disease. At that moment I thought of one I had read recently, which said:
"Don't cry to give up, cry to keep going. Don't cry to quit, you're already in pain, you already hurt, get a reward from it."
Get a reward from it. That was my mantra the rest of the race. Get a reward from it. Peddle forward, attack the hill, give my best for the last 15 miles. Get a reward from it. Down the hill to transition. Rack my back. Put on running shoes. Keep running. Get a reward from it. Pass that guy. Six miles to go. Get a reward from it.
With one mile left, I was cutting it close to getting under sub 6 hours. Oddly, after thinking I was hydrated (I hadn't shown any signs of dehydrated and I was peeing - I know gross) I started to stumble. What the hell? Keep going. Get a reward from it. Almost there. You can cry. Get a reward from it. I finished under six hours with 10 seconds to spare. I got a reward from it. Immediately crossing the line I found myself in the med tent (again) with an IV stuck in my arm. What happened? What went wrong? I don't get it. After getting out of the med tent when I could stand again, I saw my mom and cried. I was heartbroken.
In the days that followed, I talked to my coach about things. In discussing all the possibilities of factors that went wrong, we got on the subject of my meds. I am on wellbutrin and one of her other athletes had been on it before. When she raced in the heat, she would end up in the med tent, DNFing, and have odd hydration/salt/hyponatremia problems. Her doctor ended up saying it may be from the wellbutrin because when she went off it, she didn't have the issues. Apparently wellbutrin acts on the hypothalamus to regulate the seratonin dopamine re-uptake and in doing so affect thermoregulation and causes increased sweating. So basically, even though I felt like I was hydrated, I wasn't. Rough. Sometimes I get really frustrated with meds. Zoloft made me gain weight and retain it. Wellbutrin is allowing me to lose weight, but it affects my metabolic pathways. There seems to be no happy medium.
Although I didn't have the race I wanted, I did get to race in my super sweet bipolar race kit and my mom wore our team Lani shirts. We got a lot of great feedback about our cause. My mom mentioned people really liked our idea. In fact, even the HEAD race official and a paralympian thought is was wonderful. I feel like triathlon is a great place to grow my cause and reach out to people. The only thing I wish I added to my kit was my website (this blog - laniseaman.com). With all the great feedback I have been getting about my blog and my ability to spread the word about mental illness, I reallly hope to one day turn this into a non profit and raise money for treatment and support for those suffering. Now I am just trying to think of a name (it is Team Lani right now) and a slogan. So far I like "I'm bipolar, not crazy." I am open to other suggestions too, so if you have any ideas or would like to help get this off the ground and spread the word let me know!
It was tough.
Physically, I was fine. I am nearly 20 pounds lighter, I have put on some serious leg muscle, and I am in the best endurance shape I have been in in years. I fully expected that this race would be my breakthrough race, but it wasn't. And that is a tough pill to swallow. The hardest thing about long distance triathlon is that if the race isn't going as planned, it is a long time to dwell on it. The key to salvaging your race is how you adjust mentally.
I realized things were off during the swim. It was not that I felt bad, it was that I didn't have that normal spark. It felt flat. I came out of the water at 26 min, which is slow for me on this course. I told myself that it was fine - the race does not completely rely on the swim. I changed my focus to the bike where I thought I could make up some ground. Climbing the hills out of the park felt ok, but again, flat. I kept churning my legs just trying to get up to speed, but going no where. It is so hard realizing that it wasn't happening today, but I had to keep going. I had to make this the best race I could. About 2 hours in, I knew I was not going to make my sub 3 hour goal. I had a moment of thinking why I did this to myself? Why do I work so hard, just to fail? Most of you know that I read a lot of inspirational writing because it helps me get through the days and deal with my disease. At that moment I thought of one I had read recently, which said:
"Don't cry to give up, cry to keep going. Don't cry to quit, you're already in pain, you already hurt, get a reward from it."
Get a reward from it. That was my mantra the rest of the race. Get a reward from it. Peddle forward, attack the hill, give my best for the last 15 miles. Get a reward from it. Down the hill to transition. Rack my back. Put on running shoes. Keep running. Get a reward from it. Pass that guy. Six miles to go. Get a reward from it.
With one mile left, I was cutting it close to getting under sub 6 hours. Oddly, after thinking I was hydrated (I hadn't shown any signs of dehydrated and I was peeing - I know gross) I started to stumble. What the hell? Keep going. Get a reward from it. Almost there. You can cry. Get a reward from it. I finished under six hours with 10 seconds to spare. I got a reward from it. Immediately crossing the line I found myself in the med tent (again) with an IV stuck in my arm. What happened? What went wrong? I don't get it. After getting out of the med tent when I could stand again, I saw my mom and cried. I was heartbroken.
In the days that followed, I talked to my coach about things. In discussing all the possibilities of factors that went wrong, we got on the subject of my meds. I am on wellbutrin and one of her other athletes had been on it before. When she raced in the heat, she would end up in the med tent, DNFing, and have odd hydration/salt/hyponatremia problems. Her doctor ended up saying it may be from the wellbutrin because when she went off it, she didn't have the issues. Apparently wellbutrin acts on the hypothalamus to regulate the seratonin dopamine re-uptake and in doing so affect thermoregulation and causes increased sweating. So basically, even though I felt like I was hydrated, I wasn't. Rough. Sometimes I get really frustrated with meds. Zoloft made me gain weight and retain it. Wellbutrin is allowing me to lose weight, but it affects my metabolic pathways. There seems to be no happy medium.
Although I didn't have the race I wanted, I did get to race in my super sweet bipolar race kit and my mom wore our team Lani shirts. We got a lot of great feedback about our cause. My mom mentioned people really liked our idea. In fact, even the HEAD race official and a paralympian thought is was wonderful. I feel like triathlon is a great place to grow my cause and reach out to people. The only thing I wish I added to my kit was my website (this blog - laniseaman.com). With all the great feedback I have been getting about my blog and my ability to spread the word about mental illness, I reallly hope to one day turn this into a non profit and raise money for treatment and support for those suffering. Now I am just trying to think of a name (it is Team Lani right now) and a slogan. So far I like "I'm bipolar, not crazy." I am open to other suggestions too, so if you have any ideas or would like to help get this off the ground and spread the word let me know!
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