Introducing Oreo!

Yesterday was a big day in my classroom. A really, really big day. We welcomed a new member into our class...

Oreo!

The week before winter break, "Santa" brought my classroom a guinea pig cage. This was also a big day because all of my students are firm believers in Santa and truly believe that he brought a guinea pig cage straight to room 209 with directions to buy a guinea pig. 

Monday was the first day back after two weeks of winter break. I'm sure I speak for all teachers when I say that Monday morning alarm did not feel great. But, I have to admit that once I got to school and saw my hilarious kids, I was really happy to be back. Adding my good mood on Monday were my kids constant questions of: when is the guinea pig coming?have you met him yet? do you think he will like us?

Monday after school my co-worker and I headed to Petsmart and purchased two adorable guinea pigs. We bought all of our supplies and headed back to school with our new babies.

I have to admit, I am a big animal lover. I always have been. And even as a grown adult, that little fuzzy creature melted my heart the second I saw him. I carefully put him in his cage, admittedly talked to him for a little while about the kids he would meet in the morning, and went home smiling.

My students literally ran into the room yesterday morning. The little guinea pig sat patiently as they reached in and pet him as gently as they could (god bless you, guinea pig). My students quickly decided that because of his black fur with a white stripe, the obvious choice for a name would be Oreo, last name Cookie, of course. 

When Oreo seemed a little skittish, we talked about why he might be feeling nervous. Throughout the day I heard many of them whispering little pep talks through the cage. "It's ok guinea pig, I was nervous when I started school too!" "I love you guinea pig, it's going to be ok!" One of my students googled, "how to calm a guinea pig" and read that classical music and low lighting helps. When it was time for free choice time in the afternoon, my students insisted that we sit with the lights off and classical music playing to help the guinea pig.

There is tons of research that says kids benefit from having a pet. Pets help kids develop empathy and a sense of responsibility. I believe this to be especially true for kids with special needs and yesterday I could see it happening in my room. Oreo might just be a little guinea pig, but I have a feeling he will be a magical presence in our classroom. 

As my kids said as they left yesterday afternoon, "Happy Birthday, Oreo Cookie!" 

Big dreams: New jewelry and a mini race report...

I had dinner with a great friend a few weeks ago and half way through the meal I noticed she was wearing a very cool ring. It was chunky and silver and had words stamped into it. I actually can't remember what hers says, but I loved it and immediately asked her where she got it. When she told me that it was from a local artist friend of hers, I was quickly on my phone checking out the website and ordering one of my own.

Dream big. Love it!

Mano y Metal is the name of the company and I have to say, I love everything on the website. Warning: if you're on my Christmas list, there's a good chance your gift will come from here. I can think of a certain group of ladies in my life who could definitely use a "be badass" ring.

My ring arrived in the mail yesterday and it was just as great as I was hoping it would be. I knew as soon as I put it on, it would be a conversation piece at school and goodness was I right! After several attempts to read the ring upside down and several more attempts to tip their heads upside down to read the ring, I took it off for my kids to examine.

My teacher heart was happy as my struggling readers successfully decoded, dr-e-am b-i-g. Then, the moment I was hoping for came, and we had a fairly lengthy conversation about what it means to dream big.

I know, I know, it sounds corny. But take just a second and think about an adorable group of 5th grade students who really really struggle academically, socially, and emotionally. Think about this group of, as I affectionately call them, yahoos, talking about their big dreams.

"My big dream is to be a fire fighter!"

"My big dream is to make an ice cream sundae the size of this room!"

"My big dream is to drive a huge truck and honk the horn!"

If that doesn't bring a smile to your face and warm your heart a little, well, you might need to come meet my kids.

On the running side of big dreams, I had the honor and pleasure of running along side a wonderful friend of mine as she completed her first ultra marathon this past weekend. A big dream of hers, for sure.

The race was called the Paleozoic Denovian Fall Trail Race and was put on by the same wonderful people who put on the trail race my friends and I completed last spring. It was a crisp cool day and we couldn't have asked for better conditions. It was a two loop course for the ultra marathon. With special permission from the race director, a few of us were able to run the second of the two loops with our ultra marathon friend.

Love them!

I have developed a deep love for trail running and last Saturday was the perfect example of why. I always feel like I'm on some kind of adventure or hike and I definitely forget where I am and lose all sense of time. It is time to relax and let it all out and be with really amazing people. It's an escape in all senses of the word. 

My ultra marathon friend has been training hard for this race for months. Her mileage in training reached limits that most of us can't even fathom and she did it all with a calm sense of determination. The thing about this friend is that she is one of those women who truly does it all. She's probably shaking her head as she reads this, but it's true. Running an ultra marathon is impressive all on its own. Running an ultra marathon with two little kids and husband at home and a more than full time job? That is simply remarkable. I highly recommend her race report. You can read it here: http://runlikeamama.blogspot.com/2014/11/palezoic-50-finish-or-fossilize-race.html.

And so, tomorrow is Friday. After a crazy but wonderful week with my kids, I am dreaming big about my own big dreams of running races and potential big successes at school. I hope you are dreaming big as well. Happy (almost) Friday!

Running Besties!

Three or four mornings during the week and at least one morning over the weekend, I wake up at 4:30am or earlier to meet friends on the lakefront path. We run between 5 and 10 miles and have enough time to get home and ready in time for work (I can get ready for work in 17 minutes flat, I've timed it).

When people hear about my early morning running habit, they usually respond with, "wow, that's a lot of dedication!" or "I could never do that!" I recognize that it is a lot of dedication and probably does sound impressive, but when the topic of my early morning running comes up, I am usually thinking, you have no idea how awesome it is.

My early morning running is wonderful because of all the reasons a person might guess-- I feel really energized all day. My students know when I've run and usually comment that, "Ms. Rajanen did her runs today!" Yes, I giggle every time. My pants also continue to fit despite the absurd amount of gluten free donuts I consume on a daily basis, and I am very rarely ill. But all of these side effects would most likely happen with any type of exercise. What makes the early morning running extra special is a group of a group of people I often refer to as my running besties.

A few years ago, I stumbled upon this fine people. I was running with a CARA training group for a winter half marathon and the very nice man I was running next to mentioned that a group of his friends met in this parking lot at 5 am for 5 miles and I would be welcome to join. At the time, I was living two blocks from that parking lot and asked if I could be put on the email list. I didn't think much of it at the time, I simply wanted to run and the time and location seemed to fit my life.

What I discovered was a group of people I can't imagine my life without. I loved them immediately for their sense of humor, their wonderful stories, and our shared love for setting a goal and working hard to achieve it. As the time went on, relationships formed and meeting them at 5am in the parking lot went from something I did sometimes, to something I really, really love to do.

I believe there is something magical that happens when a group of people run together before the sun rises. There is a certain level of comfort as stories are shared, and challenges and joys are discussed. We know the names of one another's family members, friends, and a few even know the names of my students because of the countless stories that have been shared over the miles and miles we have run together. There is a level of trust, partly because it is so early the conversations go into a different part of your brain, but also because we are running besties and with that relationship comes a whole bucket of trust.

There is also a kind of unspoken code among early morning runners, at least there seems to be in mine. You are allowed to share anything and there is no judgement, at least not aloud. You can share that hilarious story from work that you probably shouldn't share at work. You can share your hopes and your fears and the thoughts deep inside your head and heart. It's as if the words leaves our mouths as we are pounding the pavement and head out into the wind where they are safe. Oh and if you ate a huge meal last night and it is, um, talking...it's no problem, nobody cares, they do it too.

I found myself thinking about how awesome my running friends, or running besties, are this past weekend as several of us drove south of the city to run around on the trails. Several of us will do it again this weekend as one of our friends runs her first ultra marathon (Go Tammy!). They are a gift, truly a gift, and I am thankful every day that they are in my life. So as crazy as 5am may sound to you, if someone invites you to run or walk or swim in the early morning or any time for that matter, consider it. It just might become something wonderful.

Running besties! 

Humble pie

Over the past few days, I have had several humbling experiences. Or as a good friend of mine would say, I have eaten several pieces of "humble pie." I love this friend and I also really love pie, so this analogy works well for me.

The first "humble pie" experience came when I decided to hop back on a bike after...um, three months away. It was wonderful to be back on the bike and I remembered all the things I love about biking, but it also hurt in all the places it hurts when you get back on a bike after three months. Yikes.

Then, I decided a day later to head back to the pool after, well, three months of being away. Noticing a trend here? Much like biking, it felt so good to be back in the water and back with a great group of masters swimmers. But again, ouch.

My friend says that eating the pieces of humble pie is good for the soul. I agree and am happy for the experiences. The ironman is a faint glimmer in the distance, but I can see it!

Meanwhile at school, today was a big day in my classroom. A really big day.

Volcano day!

In case you couldn't tell from the picture, today was volcano day in my classroom. If you haven't ever heard of volcano day, don't be alarmed, because it is a day totally created by my students. Volcano day is the day that we "make the volcanoes blow up!"

And by blow up, I mean put baking soda and vinegar inside clay volcanoes and watch them bubble over. While this may seem simple and boring, it is wildly exciting for my kids and they have been counting down the days since we started the unit three weeks ago. They loved it, I loved it, everybody was happy. It was one of those days as a teacher that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside and really good about the work you do. I love those days.

So while my arms and legs and well, everything, are sore from biking and swimming after a long break, I am thankful that after quite a few experiences of eating humble pie at school this year, volcano day was a big success!

"I learn better on a yoga mat."

This school year got off to a rocky start. There is absolutely nothing wrong with my students and I have not been anywhere near miserable, but it has been an incredibly challenging fall. My students have more energy than the Kenyan runners who lead the marathon and sitting down to work on multiplication tables, or anything for that matter, is completely unappealing to them.

I spent the first month pulling my hair out, trying any incentive I could think of...ok, I was bribing, to get them to sit down for even five minutes. It didn't work.

I tried going old school and putting names on the board with check-marks and threats of calling home and staying in from recess. It kind of worked. But then it didn't.

Day by day through the months of September it did get better, slowly but surely. But it wasn't great. I came home many nights with tears in my eyes because it just didn't feel good.

As a fifth year teacher, I still battle the "you don't know what you're doing" demons. A fellow teacher at my school says that even after 20 years of teaching, she still battles the same thing sometimes. Nobody is perfect, not even your teacher. And I don't care who you are, there is nothing worse than feeling like you are trying with everything you have, and it is still failing.

Now, this little story does not end with the perfect solution and high fives all around from my students as we march into high levels of achievement. But, it does have a happy ending.

This past week something really wonderful happened. It was Wednesday morning at 11am. This time has been the worst time of day all year. Our school day starts at 7:45 and lunch for my kids is at 12:30. 11am is when everybody has run out of steam and my kids would really like to run around the building screaming. And I would too.

Throughout the fall, I have come to dread 11am. I watch the clock as it creeps closer and often get a stomach ache as I know the storm is coming. Behaviors get crazy, I get cranky, and as my husband would say, nobody wins.

So, last Wednesday, I asked my kids about it. I often think we as adults forget that this is something that really works. If you ask kids what's the matter, they will most often tell you. I asked them if they noticed that 11am was the worst. They all nodded their heads. We talked about the reasons why and all decided that by that time in the morning, they were tired and ready for recess and lunch.

We all thought of potential solutions. I especially liked their idea of "running a marathon like you!" I imagine my students and I setting out for a 26.2 mile run at 11am every day. I actually don't completely doubt that many of them would make it.

But instead, I asked them if they wanted to try yoga. There was a long silence. They stared at me as if I had three heads. And then, they said yes.

We pulled out yoga mats and I showed them a few poses. They all loved child's pose, downward dog made them giggle, and they had incredible focus when it was time for tree. I told them the only rule was that they had to stay on their own mats and when I was reading or giving directions they had to listen.

The awesome part happened next. My students, my squirrelly, energetic, slightly off-the-wall students, took out their reading work and went to it. They worked and worked. I read aloud and they listened. I asked them questions, and they responded. All the while taking breaks to stretch out into down-dog or bridge. It was adorable and heartwarming and it totally worked.

I have no illusion this will work every day. I'm not even sure it will work tomorrow. And I have no idea if this will be a permanent fix. But right now, I am so happy that we had a good day. And I keep thinking of my sweet student's words on his way to lunch, "Ms. Rajanen, I think I learn better on a yoga mat!"

All about that base!

Greetings, everyone!

I am happy to be back on this little blog after a whirlwind of a summer and early fall. Following the 70.3 ironman, I was lucky enough to marry my best friend, train for a marathon, stand next to two of my best friends as they married their now husbands, and start the school year with a classroom full of energetic students. My life feels full and wonderful and busy and I wouldn't have it any other way.

My very favorite day.

Two weekends ago was the twin cities marathon. One of my final stops on my summer/early fall whirlwind adventure tour. This was my second attempt at this marathon, and I say attempt because my first time running it was last fall and it was a giant disaster of vomit and fainting. Although I knew time for training would be limited, when registration opened for this year's race, I knew I had to do it. It was time to, as my best friend says, kick it in the tail (she uses another word, but the sentiment is the same).

The TC Marathon is referred to by Minnesotans as the most beautiful urban marathon in the United States and after running it from start to finish, I would have to agree. The course begins in downtown Minneapolis, winds its way around the chain of lakes, crosses the river into St. Paul and ends in downtown St. Paul in front of the state capitol.

I have never had such a happy racing experience. This was mostly because I truly was not racing. My best friend Alyssa started the race with me (this included waiting in a parking garage to stay warm before the race, bless her heart!) and we laughed our way through the first few miles. I kept a nice steady pace through the rest of it. I knew I wasn't going fast and I didn't care. No running watch to watch my pace, I completely ignored the pacing signs, I just ran.

Staying warm in the parking garage pre-marathon!

My amazing mom and other best buddy Brittany were out on the course in several different places and I loved every time I got to see them. I am incredibly biased, but the the fans along the course were the best I've ever seen. Minnesota nice was running through and through.

I won't lie though, the whole marathon was not sunshine and rainbow. There were some pretty ugly parts as well. Miles 21-23 of the course are uphill. And by uphill, I do not mean rolling hills. Nope. I mean it is all uphill for the whole 2-3 miles. At this point of the run, you can hear a lot of grunts. There are a lot of jokes being told between runners, and a lot of, what the heck were we thinking? It hurts. A lot. But then, I made it past mile 23 and it was downhill into the finish line. I finished feeling a little delirious but really, really happy.

So now here I am on Columbus Day. The Chicago Public Schools takes this day as a holiday. No, I don't have any idea why and yes, I object to celebrating Christopher Columbus. But, like anybody else, I love a day off to catch up on the million things that have been waiting for me over the past few months and I am also loving the opportunity to reflect on the past six months of wonderful and the next six months to come.

In early September, thanks to a very wonderful co-worker of mine, I was able to sneak away from my students for a few minutes to make a very big decision. I registered for Ironman Wisconsin. Yep, the whole, big, hard-to-even-wrap-your-head-around-it, Ironman. 140.6 miles. Ufda.

To be honest, it was only today (thank you, Columbus Day) that I finally had a chance to really think about that decision and what it means. For one thing, it means 24 weeks of training. As far as I've seen, it doesn't become really intense until June/July and lucky for me this coming summer looks to be a little more relaxed than the last. But it also means a lot of miles put in on the bike, in the pool, and in my running shoes. I have no doubt it will be exhausting and challenging in ways I probably don't even understand yet.

I am nervous and excited all at the same time. The thought of crossing that Ironman finish line makes my toes tingle and my husband tells me that lately I've been talking about it in my sleep. It's going to be awesome.

But mostly at this moment I am excited that I have a few months to build my base before the real training starts in January. It's time to slow down, get back in the water and on my bike, and remember how much I love going for an early morning swim. The next few months are all about building my base. Hence the title of this blog post, in case you were wondering. For the next few months, I intend to be all about that base...and I also intend to continue dancing and singing to this song every chance I get. If you haven't heard it, here you go...I dare you not to dance!

Happy Columbus Day!

Race Report: Ironman 70.3 Racine

Yesterday was a fantastic day. The kind of day that you have a permanent smile plastered on your face by the end of it. Yesterday I swam, ran and biked my way to a second 70.3 Ironman. As I've said about other race reports, I'm going to share way too much detail with all kinds of emotion about the experience of the 70.3. Read if you're interested, I don't blame you if you're not!

Friends of ours refer to the Pittsburgh marathon as "their Christmas" and Scott and I have agreed that  Racine feels like Christmas to us as well. There's something magical and celebratory about the Racine Ironman experience.  The expo, dinner the night before with athletes and spectators, getting to the race, and the feeling of being out on the race course. It's all so wonderful and feels like a holiday. So Saturday morning as we packed up the car, we were pumped.

A big part of my experience this year was learning lessons from last year. One of those lessons was eating regularly the day before the race. Last year, I ended up feeling hot and weak as I checked in my bike which did nothing to calm my nerves. This year, Scott and I started our fun weekend on the drive up to Racine as we stopped for Starbucks on the way, ate Jimmy Johns with friends when we arrived, and snacked on gluten free banana bread that he had made throughout the day.

I got all checked in, signed the waivers, and looked at the endless Ironman apparel. I was pretty sure I didn't want anything because most things don't say the year and I had quite a bit of gear from last year. But, there's always room for one more shirt, isn't there?

A couple friends were also running the race and we were able to meet up with them at the expo. As it turns out, in all three couples, it was the woman running the race and her husband was there to cheer and support. Made my feminist heart happy. So while the girls headed to the safety chat, the boys headed to a brew pub to make signs...and drink beer as long as they were there. I was so happy that they had each other and it gave us time to listen and spend a little time being nervous.

The safety chat didn't freak me out as much this year. I knew what was coming, knew that I wouldn't draft or litter and that it would be ok. My friend Kylene and I oogled a puppy and I spent most of the time looking around to see if I could spot my principal and her husband who was running the race. No luck, but I did see a lot of women who look a lot like my beloved principal. I'm sure they appreciated me waving at them.

We headed to a trusty dinner at Noodles and Company (God bless you, Noodles for having gluten free pasta) with our friends and enjoyed talking to other athletes who were also there to eat up before the big day. I was feeling great as we drove to the hotel and at 7:30 I crawled into bed and fell asleep in minutes. 4am would be there soon.

Finally, it was the morning of the race. The alarm was set for 4am, but at 3:55 I looked at my phone and decided it was best to just get up. I actually run at this hour of the morning with some frequency, so it didn't feel too strange to be up and getting ready. Thank you, running friends for training me well! I quietly put on my tri shorts and top, strapped on my timing chip, and brushed my teeth. As I came out of the bathroom, I found Scott up and ready. I took my banana bread with me down to the hotel continental breakfast and was able to grab some of their peanut butter. It was quiet and calm and I sat silently praying that my stomach would behave.

Scott and I finished breakfast and headed up to the room for any final packing. I was thankful that I had set everything out the night before and was ready to go within minutes. I gave Scott a nervous smile and we decided it was time to go. I lucked out with a McDonald's next door to our hotel. No, I did not eat any McDonald's breakfast, but I did go through the drive through for an iced coffee. Iced coffee has been one of my pre-long bike ride treats this year and while I don't need it, it's a nice treat. It also gives me a nice caffeine jolt, and who doesn't like that before they jump into a 70.3 mile experience?

I loved the drive to the race. Music playing softly, I found myself thinking about my co-workers. I think it was the iced coffee, we drink these almost daily, and was smiling thinking about how great they are. The nerves were melting away and the excitement was growing. We pulled up to the race and took advantage of another lesson we learned last year: if you park on the street by a local elementary school facing away from the race start, getting out of there after the race will be nice and easy. Our special parking spot is also literally a block away from transition, which is a huge help with the whole getting ready process.

I grabbed all of my stuff and we headed to transition. In that the bikes were racked the day before-- such a nice feature-- I only had to bring the other gear I would need to have in transition. And by only, I do mean only my huge duffle bag of stuff. So much gear! Setting up transition is one of my favorite parts of a triathlon. I love being around all the other athletes. You can feel the excitement in the air and there's a quiet hum as people give one another advice and encouragement.

As I set up my transition, I met the athlete next to me who quietly asked if this was my first ironman. No, I said, this is my second. I could see the relief wash over her face and I knew why. I told her that yes, I came back because I love the race so much last year. I told her the story of my tire popping and the wonderful volunteers fixing it, and I gave her the advice that someone gave me last year: if you get nervous at any point during the race, repeat to yourself, I am an Ironman. We stood there and talked for a good 5 minutes, hugged at the end and went our separate ways. I'll never see her again, I have no idea how her race went, but this is what I mean about the magic of a 70.3. Yes, it's a race, but really it's a group of people who have decided to push themselves to the limit and see how it goes. Talk about living life to the fullest.

I made my way out of transition feeling calm. I checked my tires a few times, ok maybe a few dozen times, and had walked myself through how the transitions would go. I came out to find Scott giving his phone number to an athlete who asked if he was from Chicago (the Bears shirt gave him away) and if he would be her emergency contact. As I walked up he was telling her that she would have a great experience, that surely there wouldn't be an emergency, but that he would hold onto her number just in case. I love him, so much.

From there I headed to the mile-long bathroom line that I would eventually wait in again. My stomach was its usual nervous self but everything turned out just fine. The fact that my stomach was behaving so well prompted me to borrow Scott's phone to text my best friend an update on my stomach. God bless her, she responded with: That's wonderful news! Good luck today! She's the best.

We walked from transition and bathroom back to the car to drop off my bag and sit for a little while. It wasn't cold outside, but I get chilled easily. We also had about an hour before it made sense to walk to the swim start, so the car seemed like a good enough place to kill time. We also decided it was probably time to turn on the radio and sing...and dance a little. We listened to some of the songs that will be played at our wedding in a few weeks which made my heart so happy and calm. It was all good.

About an hour before I would start swimming, we took the walk to the swim start. I love this walk. I know there are other courses where the swim start is near the transition and I'm sure that's convenient, but I love the peaceful walk along the lake. If you google "perfect water conditions for an open water swim" I'm pretty sure you will find a picture of Lake Michigan in Racine yesterday morning. Ok, I don't actually know that, but it was pretty darn perfect. It looked like glass-- smooth and calm. The sun was rising over the lake, the sky was bright blue and as we got closer to the swim start I could hardly wait to get in that water.

I love to swim. I know I've said that many times and if you know me personally, I've probably talked your ear off at one point of another about how much I love to swim. The beginning of a triathlon is my favorite and on a perfect morning like this, I couldn't wait to get in there. We quickly found our friends and the four of us laughed as Kristan and I tried (and succeeded, after a while...) to get our wetsuits on. My wetsuit was brand new. Well, I ordered it online in May and then didn't try it out until, well, race day. I would not recommend doing that, it's really not a a good idea to try something for the first time on race day, but sometimes we do stupid things. Lucky for me, it worked out just fine. The wetsuit was really tight and a little too short for my torso, but it did the job!

The pro's started their race and before I knew it, it was time to go line up. I'm an emotional person. I cry often and I cry when I'm happy, sad, nervous, excited, pretty much any emotion can bring me to tears. Scott knows this and so when my eyes welled up with tears at the start line, he didn't miss a beat. He crouched down next to me and whispered that there was nothing to be nervous about. He told me that he worries about me a lot, but today he wasn't worried at all. I was ready, it was time to go get it.

Ready to start!

I pushed to the front of my corral, because I wanted to be near the front in that glassy water, but also because I knew that my friend Kylene would be near the back of hers and she was the wave right before me. We saw each other, hugged and then both of our eyes welled up with tears. Kylene is truly like a sister to me. I would step in front of a bus for her and I've watched her grow into the athlete she is today. This was her first 70.3 and I knew she was nervous. We held hands, danced to Call Me Maybe, and I watched her head out into the water. I said a silent prayer that she would be ok and then kept dancing through the start line.

At the start of the race, they have you come through the gate and wade into the water up to about hip level. As we all stood there, the music switched to a newer song that I don't know the name of, but the chorus repeats, "I'm alive, I'm alive" a few times. It's catchy and I like it and that line stuck with me throughout the race. It rang so true for me, the feeling of being completely alive. What a gift.

The swim was everything I hoped it would be and more. I felt like I was flying. My feet were cold and the wetsuit was a little tight on my rib cage making it hard to take big breaths, but it was a perfect swim. The only down side was that it felt like it was over before it started. We're already turning to go in? No way!

I came up into the sand and started that uncomfortable run to transition. I always feel like a penguin because running in a wetsuit is not the most natural thing. I also think that the rest of the athletes look like penguins, so I giggled to myself as I watched all of us make our way. I heard my name yelled and waved to Scott as I kept going. Right before heading into transition, there are wonderful volunteers who can help you out of your wetsuit. Last year, I didn't really need help because mine was easy to get out of. This year, I needed help. The woman told me to sit down on the ground, and then three people grabbed onto my wetsuit and pulled like crazy. I'm not sure what I said, but I remember being so amazed that the wetsuit was off. I'm pretty sure I said something with a lot of love and appreciation, maybe too much, because the woman laughed and told me to keep going. Someday I'd love to volunteer for this race, I bet they hear all kinds of funny things.

Doing the penguin run!

I made it to my bike in transition quickly and got into my helmet, bike shoes, gloves and sunglasses without a problem. I very carefully took my bike off the rack (this was when the tire popped last year) and quietly whispered to my bike and the universe that I would be so thankful if it would function well during the race. Yep, totally nutty, but nobody seemed to mind my whispering and off I went.

The bike out of transition is a hill. It's not that big of a hill in all actuality, but it is big when you have just finished a swim and haven't developed any momentum. I started chugging up it and heard someone yell, put your bike in a lower gear! Oh ya, my gears. I shifted down and made it up that hill and onto the course.

I love those first moments of a bike ride in a triathlon. You are still wet and chilled from the water and the breeze feels amazing. It feels like it did when I was little and my friends and I would ride our bikes after swim lessons or running through the sprinkler. So joyful.

About 2 miles in, I remembered a goal I had set for myself. EAT. Last year I did a really bad job of eating on the bike. This resulted in feeling miserable during the run and after the race. I had set a goal and practiced eating something every 5 miles. I knew this meant I had to start right away. First snack? Cookies! I had put 2 chocolate gluten free cookies in a baggie. They were soft and delicious and it was no problem convincing myself to eat them right away.

The first 10 miles of the bike were through before I even knew what was happening. Snack time again, this time I ate an apple sauce crusher (made for kids...and triathletes!). It was also around this time that I made a friend that stuck with me through the entire bike. I don't know her name and she is another beautiful soul that I'll never see again, but after passing one another three or four times we began to chat. I would pass her as we climbed a hill, she would pass me as we went down. We were careful not to draft and we knew we couldn't ride side by side, but over the course of 56 miles, there were plenty of opportunities to offer funny side comments.

My favorite came from her when she said, "There are a lot of 40 year-old men on a mission out here. I've got a mission, but it is not the same as theirs!" It made me laugh because it is so true. I don't know the age of the average Ironman participant, but I imagine it has to be a male in his 30's or 40's. I would also estimate a very high average income as most of them are riding bikes that cost more than my car. They are very polite and focused, and good for them, but the focus is a little much sometimes. They would come flying by us on their bikes, it was amazing to watch, but they were on a different planet. Good for them, we were having fun.

I really did feel great through the whole bike. I know that course well by now and I kept pushing food and fluids. I thought of my mom who worries that I'm not eating enough. Every time I ate something, I thought of her and hoped she knew I was doing just fine.

I came down Main Street at the end of the bike, waved to Scott who spent the time I was biking with friends on a porch drinking bloody mary's. I could tell he was having fun and smiled and waved as I headed into the transition area. I didn't run my bike, I walked. I hate running in my bike shoes and knew that it really wouldn't make that big of a difference. I got to my running shoes and sat down to change shoes and remove all the bike gear. I was so happy, I had made it through the bike. The whisperings to the universe had worked. :)

Over the past few months, I practiced a new technique for me during the run. Using a basic digital watch, I would run for 2 minutes and walk for 30 seconds. I did something similar last year, but without the visual of the watch, it became frustrating. I had read that if you're going to do this, you shouldn't wait until your tired to start it, do it from the beginning. So I did. I would watch the 30 seconds click away and then run for 2 minutes. Being able to look at my watch was so helpful and while I was running slower than I would have liked, I was calm and feeling good.

I saw Scott at the beginning of the run, told him honestly that i was feeling great, and kept going. The run course of Racine is a double out and back, meaning you run 3 miles, turn around, run back to the start and repeat. Last year, this made me feel like I was going to die. This year, I loved it. A rest stop every mile and knowing that I was almost at a turnaround was so comforting. Every stop was full of amazing volunteers. At every stop I asked if there was ice and at one particular stop a really nice lady remembered me and set aside a cup for me the next time I came through. How incredible! Chomping on the ice kept me cool and hydrated, and tossing the ice cubes down my tri top helped too.

Running and feeling good!

Around mile 5, I fell in step with an athlete who looked to be about my age. She asked if I had a formula for the run walk and when I explained, she asked if she could join. Well of course! For the next 5 miles or so, we stuck together. After covering conversational topics of work and family and hobbies, it became quiet and I knew we needed another topic. If you know me, you know that while I am super excited for my wedding, I don't love to talk about the tiny details of it all the time. Well, in that we had a couple hours to kill, I asked my new friend if she wanted to hear about my wedding plans. "Oh my gosh, yes!" she said and sure enough the details of my wedding carried us through several more miles.

My favorite of Scott's signs.

I lost my friend somewhere around mile 10 when she told me it was time for her to just walk and I was ready to run. I saw my friend Kylene, was so happy to see her doing well, and kept chugging to the finish line. I came up over a hill, saw mile 11, then 12, and knew that I was almost there. I saw Scott about a quarter mile from the finish and took a 30 second walk break to talk to him. He told me that I was doing awesome, was way ahead of my time from last year and that he would see me at the finish line. I remember feeling almost surprised that it was almost over. I felt good... at the end of an Ironman. What?

The finish line of the ironman is something you have to experience to understand. People are screaming your name (it's on your bib), the announcer is saying your name, and the reality of what you have done hits you right between the eyes. I cried last year, I cried again this year. It's the best.

Done!

I came to a stop, got my medal from a nice woman and let some sweet little girl who was volunteering take off my timing chip. I tried to reach down and help her and must have looked tired because she told me not to worry, she could do it.

No need for the medical tent this year, I was feeling just fine and headed straight for where I knew there were snacks and most important, coke. I grabbed that ice cold soda, took a plate of food and headed out to find Scott. We hugged and headed to find our friends and after eating and drinking, I anxiously waited for Kylene to cross the finish line. She came running in and I cried watching her cross the finish line. So awesome. So proud of you, my friend.

And as my students would say, that was the end of the story. The Ironman is a magical experience and I once again loved every minute of it. I'm so happy with the improvements I made from last year that resulted in a 15 minute time improvement and feeling so much better throughout the race. Before long I'm sure I'll start thinking about the improvements for the next race, maybe even a full Ironman. But for now, I'm just plain happy. So happy with the experience, the feeling of accomplishing a goal, the love for a sport that runs deep, the celebration of "our Christmas" and so many other tiny moments that made it all what it was. Life is wonderful.