Mooseman Bound

On my way to Mooseman...look for updates later this weekend. Not sure if/when I'll have access. Triathlon is Saturday...watch me tri.

Early Morning Eels

A little freaked out (ok, a LOT ) by my limited experience swimming in open water (and now eels), I begged and pleaded a fellow teammate to meet me for a 6:15 a.m. swim this morning. It was my last moment chance to get in another open water swim before the big day. Better late, than never.

It was really gloomy this morning after raining overnight—kind of eerie. I was certain all the eels would be out on a feeding frenzy in this weather, which made me really nervous for the swim. I started thinking that this wasn’t such a great idea.

I arrived at the parking lot at 6:16 a.m. (only one minute behind schedule) to find she wasn’t there. I thought, YES, maybe she overslept or bailed. With each minute that passed, I thought that I could just go back to my cozy bed. Then, I got a text message that she was on her way. Bummer!

Within a few minutes my teammate arrived and we plodded down to the beach. After several minutes of struggling to get our wetsuits on, we tiptoed into the water. I was on high alert for eels, sand sharks, stingrays, and any other scary aquatic life. (Yes, I know we’re in Lake Champlain, but you just never know).

We did a few countdowns to take the plunge into the water and then a few more to put our faces in and swim. I convinced my teammate to stay out of the deeper, darker water (because that’s where the eels are). The waves were huge! I’m guessing they were 1-1.5 feet high (compared to the calm waters of a pool, these waves were tsunami-sized). We same 10 strokes or so at a time in any direction.

I was amazed that in many ways I felt a little more comfortable. The only thing I really fixated on was eels. The darkness, cold, and waves were more bearable. Funny how things change--I think my focus on eels has taken over. In fact, I’m pretty sure I have anguillophobia (fear of...eels).

Our swim was short (maybe 10-15 minutes), but it gave me an ever-so-slight boost of confidence. Now, if I can stay calm with all the people in my wave kicking, punching, elbowing, and swimming over me, I’ll be golden.

I’ll be on my way to Mooseman territory this evening. Stay tuned for Mooseman updates. The time has come!

Please help us save lives by making a donation to our Team Courcelle Mooseman Triathlon fundraiser for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

Ignorance Was Bliss

This evening I went out for my first open water swim! Many of my trimates have been out 3+ times already and I haven't been able to join them with marathon tapering and issues with Riley being sick.

So, we gathered to swim in Lake Champlain after a full day of rain. C-c-c-old! The water temp must have been in the high 50s, or possibly 60. It felt the worst on my feet, face, and hands.

Trying to swim in the lake was like learning to swim all over again. The water was cold and dark...it made me kind of miss seeing the floaters in the murky pool water.

I walked out a ways before I tried to swim. I reverted to my advanced doggy paddle with my face out of the water for warmth and comfort. I put my face in and attempted some freestyle swimming. It was amazing how quickly I was out of breath. I'm not sure if I was panicked, cold, or exhausted.

I rolled over and backstroked a bit which helped me to relax some although I had trouble swimming straight--according to my coach. All of a sudden, I felt something tap me. I was certain it was Champ or a lamprey, but it was my coach kindly redirecting me.

On the way back, I felt a little more comfortable and I completed more strokes on my stomach. It's going to take some time to get used to this, which I don't have. I'm meeting one of my trimates for another swim some early morning. We leave for Mooseman on Thursday night...time is ticking.

I'm thankful I had the opportunity to get in the water with my trimates, however, now I know how scary it is. I also learned that apparently there are eels in the lake. What?!? I thought they were strictly salt water creatures. Ignorance was bliss!

Please help us save lives one mile at a time by contributing to our Team Courcelle triathlon fundraiser for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

(Bitter)Sweet Sixteen

It's official. I completed my 16th marathon, 7th VCM, and 2nd marathon on my birthday. It wasn't all I had hoped for, but I had high hopes. I set out in this marathon with a lofty goal of qualifying for Boston. I wasn't feeling confident (like I did in Chicago) because I was startled by being off of my usual pre-marathon routines. Nonetheless, I set out with my A game to go for it.

I knew after the first two miles that maintaining an 8:20 pace would not be easy despite the good karma on my side (running on my birthday, my home course, my 16th marathon, etc.). I stayed in the game and kept the pace steadily through mile eight. I was ready to scale it back at that point, when I ran into (almost literally) some runners from Massachusetts that I had met two years ago in another race. They told me they were going for a 3:40 marathon (my BQ time), so I hung on with them and enjoyed the ride. They appeared at the prefect time when my I started to doubt myself and struggled on the hill. I was back in the game.

Mile 10 the sun came out and my temperature went up. I was overheating, quickly. My pace slowed and I decided to scale things back. So, I fell back on my B plan...just to enjoy the marathon as a glory run. I reminded myself of my upcoming Mooseman Triathlon, which was less than a week away. I decided it was wise to leave some gas in the tank and strength in my legs than to blow it all on VCM if I wasn't in the running for a PR or BQ. So, I plodded onward.

I enjoyed seeing so many friends along the course and I felt like I was in a parade. I was taking it all in. My legs were appreciative of my more conservative pace as I didn't have much spring left in my step.

As I got into miles 16, 17, and 18, I tried to just keep my head (and legs) in the game. I wasn't such a happy birthday girl despite all the birthday wishes from runners around me. Shortly after passing the mile 19 marker, I turned a corner and saw Marty stopped on the side of the course with a runner in distress. He had a ghostly look on his face.

When I got closer, I realized Marty was helping a friend of ours who was not doing well. He was unresponsive with his eyes closed, sitting in chair. Scary. He was fortunate to have a few spectators who came to his aid while waiting for help. Marty and I waited with him until the paramedics came along.

It was tough starting up again as our muscles cramped up like rocks. We were really shaken from our friend's condition and just wanted to be done. After mile 20, I decided I better call my dad to tell him we'd be "running late." Marty kept moving for fear of more cramps. I left my dad a brief message indicating we were behind because we stopped to help a friend, but we were okay. Later we learned that this message got mixed up in translation and my dad thought something was wrong with Marty.

Once I got on the bike path, I knew I was on the home s...t...r...e...t...c...h (it seems to go on forever). I stopped to encourage a high school runner from my district who was struggling and then I went on my way. I was delighted to get a glimpse of Marty around mile 23.5 and I perked up enough to catch him.

We ran the final miles together and crossed the finish line together--the icing on my cake! Actually, technically Marty was one second ahead of me (because he crossed the starting line after me).

Please help us save lives one mile at a time by making a donation to our Team Courcelle triathlon fundraiser for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.