What a weekend?! On Saturday, I tackled the infamous triple brick workout.[30 mile bike + 5 mile run] + [30 mile bike + 5 mile run] + [30 mile bike + 5 mile run] = 10 hours of training. No, I am not exaggerating. I started at 7 am and finished just before 5 pm. The first set was easy, cool overcast weather, no traffic on the road. My Garmin overloaded and froze up - no biggie since I was riding and running with my teammate, Sedonia. She was keeping track of our run/walk times. The second set started to warm up, by the run, it was hot. The third loop was tough. My toes starting cramping on mile 20. Sedonia and I had been chatting all day long, but by the time we got to the third run, we were quiet. That was ok though, because we finished it, the whole damn thing!
On Sunday, Tami and I drove down to Cupertino for the Catfish Crawl, a 2.4 mile swimming race in the Stevens Creek Reservoir. It was supposed to be a special race, because the reservoir is only open to swimmers once a year. I could have cared less, I was exhausted! The triple brick workout had stifled my appetite the night before, so I ended up having oatmeal and chocolate milk for dinner. Oddly enough, I had the same thing for breakfast the next morning. Certainly not enough to fuel my excitement for a really long swim. My friend, Michelle, had registered at the last minute and met us there. She had trained for the Vineman Half, but crashed her bike during the race and was unable to finish. She was super excited to do the swim since she never got to release all of those race nerves and had been nursing some bad scrapes and bruises. Her cheery attitude helped balance out my "less than amused" attitude.
There were actually 2 races, a 1.2 mile swim and a 2.4 mile swim. The 2.4 mile only had one wave. That meant that all men and women of all ages would start at the same time. When the gun went off, it was a humbling moment. I had forgetten what it felt like to get rocked during a swim start. It took me back to my first Sprint Triathlon when I had no idea how rough those girls would be in the front. This time, I was battling it out with some very aggressive men and some hardcore women too. After my near drowning, the pack started to thin out. I was lucky enough to find a good draft early on. This meant a little less work for me. I was able to hang on for the first 1.2 mile loop. As we rounded out to start the second loop, I started to drop off. It was too much energy to catch up, so I just let her go. This is when my stomach started growling...grrrr. I was losing steam and I was so hungry, the oatmeal and chocolate milk didn't go far. I attempted to catch a few more drafts along the way, but nothing stuck. I saw one good target, but as soon as I sped up to catch him, he flipped on his back and started doing the backstroke! It 500 meters to the finish when someone kept grabbing my foot. I finally flipped around to see what was going on back there, and it was Michelle! It was good timing, because I was starting to have a lot of negative self talk in my head. I focused on swimming with her all the way through the finish, our time was 1:25, just a few seconds apart.
The workout didn't end there. Our team drove to a nearby school where we headed out for a short run. Our destination was the gravesite of a past Ironteam member and honoree, Louie Bonpua. As a team, we took the time to reflect on why we are doing what we are doing. Below is a brief article on Louie's legacy.
Hours after he carried the Olympic torch in San Francisco on Saturday, a Milpitas triathlete who had leukemia fell asleep and never awoke. Louie Bonpua died Tuesday morning, January 22, 2002, in Santa Clara. Louie was 37. Five months earlier, Louie had completed his first Ironman triathlon, Ironman Canada, in British Columbia despite battling leukemia for four years.. His inspirational story was one of the reasons he was chosen to complete one leg of the Olympic torch run as it came through Crissy Field in San Francisco. "It's just kind of amazing to think that essentially on Saturday both his Olympic torch and essentially his life completed its journey," said a friend, Paul Chodroff. Louie, a high-tech program manager in Silicon Valley, began training for triathlons more than nine years ago, after he was originally asked to serve as an honoree of the San Francisco chapter of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Instead of being honored, he decided to join the society's team of triathletes, who raise money to fight the disease. Aided by an experimental drug called STI-571, Louie began a grueling training regimen, exercising six days a week. He eventually completed nine triathlons, shorter versions of an Ironman, prior to his Ironman Canada race. Completing the Ironman -- with its 2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike race and a marathon -- is no simple feat, but for someone with leukemia, it seemed nearly impossible. Before the race, Louie received a blood transfusion just to get the strength to compete. It took him nearly 17 hours, but Louie crossed the finish line, where a huge crowd was chanting "Louie, Louie." Louie was honored with the race's "Ironman Spirit" award, and he wrote a stirring first-person account of the race (see link below). His story and determination inspired many, including many youngsters with cancer. And despite his pain, friends said, he stayed exceedingly upbeat. "Louie always had a smile on his face," said Stuart Chase, who trained with Louie for the past year. "He just didn't want cancer to be something to slow him down." Louie Bonpua was born in the Philippines and immigrated to the United States in 1981. A graduate of San Francisco State University, he later worked for Cadence Design Systems of Sunnyvale. Louie attempted to find a bone-barrow match, which would have saved his life, but no suitable donors were ever identified. Despite his battles with leukemia, Bonpua was thrilled to be working for a cure. "Whether or not this leukemia gets me in the end, I know that we have already won the war against cancer due to the joys and successes that we have shared," he wrote on his Web site.
Condition: Exhausted, but feeling great about what I've accomplished so far
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