Season Opener: Bassman Race Report

May 8th, 2012 by Maria Simone 23 comments »

“Fifteen seconds to start,” the race director called through the bullhorn.

Hamming it up before the start of the race.

What the heck?

Only 15 seconds before he made this announcement, he had just let us enter the water. Now, about 100 of us had to make our way to the in-water start line, which was about 100 yards from the shoreline. Note to RD: It takes more than 30 seconds to line up 100 athletes at an in-water start.

I tucked my head into the clear water and gave a few fast strokes to get to the buoy line. John was right in front of me. We wound up being in the same wave together because the women and the aquabike competitors were starting together. John and I are NEVER in sight of each other during the swim. At an Ironman, he’s on the front line, and I’m not anywhere near the maul-fest of the front line of swimmers.

My coach had directed me to start right at the buoy line in the front row. Well, John took that position. So, I got right behind him.  With just moments to go until the Bassman half iron started, I fantasized about staying on his feet and having the best swim of my life. Team Crazy had the swim hot corner all locked up!

I prepared my mind to swim hard, and not let the rush of the line up get me flustered. The old me would be panic stricken by now. The new me took it in stride.

» Read more: Season Opener: Bassman Race Report

Execution Day

May 2nd, 2012 by Maria Simone 10 comments »

“I think my right knee and foot is broken,” I said to John.

He shot me a look of doubt.

It’s race week. On Sunday, May 6th, I’ll be doing my tri-season opening at the Bassman half iron distance triathlon, a local affair in Bass River State Park.

And, as is typical of most race weeks, I experience these odd phantom pains in various places throughout my body: knees, shoulders, quads, calves, back – you name it. I stress and fuss–without cause–that I’m “injured,” and it will ruin my race.

I know I’m not the only one that gets these phantom pains. My friend Patti and I always joke about how we are “broken” right before we race. Then, as soon as the gun goes off, magically and mysteriously, we are cured of all ailments.

It’s a necessary part of the race ritual, I guess.

“Are you that nervous?” John asked.

I thought about it for a second.

“No.” I paused. “I’m curious.” » Read more: Execution Day

Lessons about pancreatic cancer and triathlon

April 26th, 2012 by Maria Simone 4 comments »

When I started this blog several years ago, my concept was that I would write about my training and racing, and all of the lessons I learned from it. Hence, my tagline: Learning about life while pushing the limits of the body. 

At the outset, there was no way I could have understood just how significant some of these lessons would become.

Today, I’m writing from my mother’s bedside. She’s been hospitalized, again, as a result of the complications of pancreatic cancer and its treatment.

This time, it’s dehydration, which is not uncommon in cancer patients, nor is this the first time my mom’s had an issue with it. Dehydration is particularly concerning for those undergoing chemotherapy or with cancers affecting the digestive tract. Well, my mom fits both of these descriptions.

Wow – what a lottery to win.

As a result of the chemotheraphy and the nature of the tumor, my mom frequently dry heaves or vomits. She is rarely hungry and feels bloated all of the time. To make matters worse, for months, my mother’s been dealing with stomach cramping, which none of the doctors have been able to explain adequately – and we have to yet to find a satisfactory method for managing the pain caused by this cramping.

This cramping, along with the other symptoms, has wreaked havoc on her ability to eat and drink properly.

So, here we sit. She has severe electrolyte imbalances, specifically extremely low levels of potassium and magnesium. » Read more: Lessons about pancreatic cancer and triathlon

Pushing the edge, silencing the voice

April 22nd, 2012 by Maria Simone 9 comments »

It’s Triathlon Season Eve: 2 weeks until my first triathlon of the season: Bassman, which is a local half distance race. This will be followed by  Rev3 Quassy in June, Rhode Island 70.3 in July, and the main event of the year: Ironman Mont Tremblant, Quebec.

Each of the half-iron races has a specific purpose in my terms of my overall goals for Ironman Mont Tremblant.

In sum: race HARD, go FAST.

While I have always had a goal of getting faster (doesn’t everyone?!), this year my speed goals are particularly aggressive. In order to achieve them, I will have to push harder than I ever have. Much. Harder.

I know what’s coming. There’s no denying it’s going to hurt.

The ability to endure suffering over long distances has become a bit of a specialty of mine – at least in running. I know how to manage the suffer when I’m running. I even kind of like it.

Now, it’s time to take that same mindset and apply it to triathlon.

I’m not saying that my previous triathlons weren’t challenging – they were. You can’t go 140.6 miles (or 70.3 miles for that matter) without inflicting some torture. » Read more: Pushing the edge, silencing the voice

Lessons learned: Bonks and Meltdowns

April 10th, 2012 by Maria Simone 14 comments »

Anatomy of the bonk, from competitor.com

For endurance athletes, Saturday mornings typically mean one thing: long workout time!

My training plan called for a 45 minute run at IM pace, followed immediately by a 2:15 bike with several hard interval sets throughout, followed immediately another 45 minute IM pace run.

I remember tweeting cheerfully that I was about to start my own personal duathlon. I was excited to feel the endorphin rush of a well-executed hard workout.

Aaahhhh. Poor girl. She just didn’t know what was coming. 

It was raining, but I love running in the rain. It makes me feel hard core. The run went well, and upon my return to the house, I promptly began my ride–on the trainer because I am NOT hard core on the bike – only when it comes to running.

About halfway through, the effort felt very hard. Yes, the workout was designed to be challenging, but I mean I-feel-like-slugglish-crap-hard, not this-is-a-great-challenge-hard (yes – there is a difference!).

My thoughts turned dark and a bit nasty. The negative voices wanted to take control. This was the first sign that maybe things weren’t exactly right.

I drowned out the voices by turning up my mp3 player, and finished the ride.

I thought to myself, “Just a 45 minute run and this one’s a wrap. More training in the Ironman bank.”

As I started out on the second run, I felt sluggish almost immediately, and my heart rate was pretty low. I tried to tell myself it was because I had already worked out for 3 hours, but I felt it was more than that. Something wasn’t right.

Then, I felt a bit dizzy about twenty minutes into the run. I get bouts of vertigo from time to time; I hoped it would pass. The voices wanted to convince me otherwise.

Shut up! I said sternly to the voices in my head, and I turned up the volume on my mp3 player.

But, there was no talking myself out of what happened next. I began to see black spots. You know the kind that appear like they are floating around your eyes?  » Read more: Lessons learned: Bonks and Meltdowns

Free Speed

March 30th, 2012 by Maria Simone 7 comments »

When I train, I frequently visualize different race-specific scenarios. For example, one of my favorite sequences is to imagine myself in the final miles of the marathon of the Ironman World Championships. I see myself as a quick and sure-footed athlete, as the announcers call out the blow-by-blow of my race.

“Simone is looking good with less than 10k to go in this marathon; she is making her competition work for it. She is running down the first place athlete in her age group, and she’s got the time to catch her.”

Ah, yes, I say visualization, but really its more like a fantasy, right?

Well, I have similar fantasy visualization when it comes to my swim stroke. I have images of the strong, lithe bodies churning and burning in the opening yards of an Ironman swim start. In my mind, I’m right there with the best of them, and I have perfect form, kind of like Mr. Swim Smooth here:

I’m smooth, fluid, perfect. I’m Ms. Swim Smooth–in my mind.

Well, two weeks ago, my fantasy visualization had to grapple with an actual visual of my swim stroke, after my coach Vince suggested I send him some video of me swimming.

Harumph. That was quite the rude awakening.

Ms. Swim Smooth, meet Ms. Swim Sloppy: » Read more: Free Speed

Girl Power Posse Tackles the Atlantic City St. Patty’s 10 miler & 5k

March 22nd, 2012 by Maria Simone 7 comments »

I volunteered to pick everyone up before the 34th Annual Atlantic City St. Patrick’s Day 10 miler & 5k, held last Saturday, March 17. Once we were all assembled in the car, I said, “Okay, I have something to get us mentally focused. Ready?”

The girl-power posse from left: Tracy, Courtney, Charlene, Me, Jeanne, and Helena

The car chimed in with a chorus of “Ready!”

I hit play on the car’s CD player.

“‘Cause I’m a fighter,” Rocky intoned from the speakers. “That’s the way I’m made, Adrian. We can’t change what we are.”

And then the sounds of the Rocky theme blasted throughout the car.

For me, there is nothing like the Rocky theme to pump me up. It’s my alarm clock, my ring tone, my personal pep talk, and I have several versions of it to ensure that I can strike the proper tone.

The remix version seemed just right for this particular morning.

For several years now, I have marked the official start to my race season with the AC St. Patrick’s Day race, and it’s one of my favorites quite simply because it’s fun. The vibe is festive, and it’s the first time I get to see what I’ve got after a long winter of training.

This year, the race was even more special because I got to run it with a girl-power packed posse (see picture above), two of whom I’ve been formally coaching. So, this year I would test my prowess as a runner, as well as how well I’ve been doing as a coach for my dear friend Courtney, who did this as a training race en route to a half-marathon on April 1st, and her mother-in-law Charlene, who finished her first ever 5k! » Read more: Girl Power Posse Tackles the Atlantic City St. Patty’s 10 miler & 5k

Drinking the X-Day Kool Aid

March 13th, 2012 by Maria Simone 15 comments »

Last Monday, I came into work to find a sweet treat in my mailbox that one of my former students had left as a gift.

It was a homemade box, filled with homemade chocolate truffles. Each had a different type of sparkly sprinkle on top. They looked mouthwatering–especially for someone who loves chocolate as much as I do.

I swirled the box under my nose, enjoying the rich sweet scent, as one of my colleagues came into the room where the mailboxes were, and I asked him, “Ron, do you want these?”

Was I really going to give these treats away?

“What are they?” he asked.

I explained that they were treats from one of my students, but that I couldn’t eat them, and I didn’t want to waste them. It was so very sweet of her to make them, but alas, I couldn’t have them.

“Well, okay. But, uh, why can’t you have them?” A most reasonable question, Ron.

“Today is X-day,” I replied, as if everyone knows what x-day is. Of course, Ron did not know what x-day was.

“Uh, what is x-day?” he asked. There he goes again, with the reasonable questions.

I suddenly felt a little uncomfortable at the prospect of having to explain it because I knew it was going to sound slightly ridiculous.

I paused. Ron waited.

“Starting today, everything I do is about Ironman,” I explained. » Read more: Drinking the X-Day Kool Aid

The Tutu Train’s A-Comin’

March 2nd, 2012 by Maria Simone 1 comment »

I have always wanted to do a race wearing a tutu. I finally got my wish for the 2012 Cape to Gate 44-mile relay, which was held last Saturday, Febrary 25.

Running in a tutu was every bit as awesome as I thought it would be–even more so because I had the opportunity to run with an entire tutu train of women.


From left: Patti, Me, Courtney, Carole, Joanna, Chrissy & Tracy. The Tutu Train!

Last year, I ran this race as part of my Boston Marathon training, along with my sister-in-law Tracy and at the time, newly found friend, Carole (report from 2011 can be found here.) Because we were running 20-mile segments last year, we didn’t get the true feel of the relay race. So, I knew I wanted to put together an all-female team to go the distance for the 2012 race. » Read more: The Tutu Train’s A-Comin’

I’m ready to race

February 23rd, 2012 by Maria Simone 7 comments »

Top: Start of the 2010 IMLP swim; Bottom left: John at 2011 IMLP; Bottom right: Me at 2011 Rev3 Quassy.

“Where’s my medal?” I exclaimed as I walked in the door. No response.

“Where’s my dang medal?” I repeated, giggling.

John was sitting in the office, barely paying attention to my antics. He looked up after I came huffing through the doorway, a huge smile on my face, a rush of endorphins in my blood stream.

“How did it go?” He asked.

“It” was a race simulation that my coach Vince had cooked up for me.

“Aaawe-soome!” I sang in reply.

Finally, I had gotten to “race.”

Thanks to a commitment to recovering my leg from the chronic ITBS that plagued my 2011 season, I haven’t raced since September 10, when I did the Shoreman Half Iron Triathlon. That was the last time I donned my race kit and pushed my limits.

That is a very long time ago for a race junky.

Spending the entire fall running season without a single race was agonizing. Watching John race in Cozumel was torture. Volunteering at local races, without being able to jump in was frustrating.

I LOVE to race.

I relish that feeling of riding my redline, of zeroing in on competitors and passing them, of feeling my body work in ways that I just know it was born to do.

There has been none of that for me in months. 

No trail running races on mossy single track, laced with the colors of Autumn leaves.

No fall marathon to try and achieve my goal of a 3:30 straight marathon time.

No winter dashes where I could frolick with friends.

No FUN. » Read more: I’m ready to race