Fredo the Wonderdog!

Whenever I show up to a group run with Fredo the Wonderdog and there are runners there who have not yet met Fredo, they always ask, "How far will he run?" Or, "Will he run the whole way with you?"  When I respond that yes, he'll run the whole way, and we'll be running 14 miles today, they don't believe it.  And then others, who have run with Fredo, will chime in and say, "He's run a marathon!" "Watch out for Fredo, he'll make you run faster than you want to!"

Fredo is a running Wonderdog, and I'm so thankful I discovered that about him.

We didn't know he was a wonderdog when he first found us.  In fact, we tried to give him away.  See, the Quinns have an addiction, and though we often try to quit, we're never fully successful.  The addiction is to animals, mostly dogs.  So when Brian saw this black and white, beagle-sized blur of a feisty dog chasing a dump truck near his office in January of 2009, he tried to coax him in to safety.  But the little blur would have none of that, and took off.  All day Brian worried that Blur would become a lump on the side of the road, a victim of drivers in the area who appear to have no regard for the lives of animals.  Then on his way home, only a mile from the office, Blur ran across the road not far from Brian's truck, and started giving the business to an angry pit bull chained up in someone's front yard.  This time, Blur accepted the offer of safety and jumped into the truck.

I remember the phone call from Brian, saying he'd found a stray near work that wasn't in too bad of a shape, but was underweight, not neutered, covered in fleas, no collar...and he was going to call the Starks (some friends of ours who we are constantly trying to pawn found dogs onto).  In the meantime, I called my boss, who is a sucker for dogs in need (though he would never admit it), to see if he was interested.  I pulled into the driveway at home just after Brian had, and then I saw his face.  That cute little black and white face, looking happy, looking at me...I don't know why I expected to NOT have the reaction I did.  After 48 hours with us, we knew he was ours.

Now, it hasn't always been happy times with this wonderdog.  He is a roamer--he likes to be with his people, and when his people are gone, he tries to find us. We made numerous modifications to doors, locks, screens and our fence to prevent his Houdini-esque breakouts.  Crating him didn't work--with a metal crate he scratched his nails on the sides to the point of bleeding...and with a plastic crate he actually chewed his way out!

So at some point, I decided to try to take him running with me to burn off some of his anxiety.  I started him on my short runs of 3-4 miles, and he loved it.  I gradually took him on longer runs, up to 6 miles, then 7, then 8.  I found a harness that was perfect for running, and we found a rhythm together.  He runs at the end of the leash to my front left.  All I need to do for a turn is tug a little to the left or right, and he'll head in that direction.  Sometimes we'll be approaching a turn that we only sometimes take, and he slows a bit and glances over his shoulder as if to ask, "Are we turning here today?"  He can even poop on the run--very convenient (okay, I slow a little for him).  

In 2009, a friend and I decided to run the Jacksonville Marathon (which takes place in December).  For the first time in a while, I was NOT going to train with a group, I was training solo.  So Fredo became my training partner.  As my long runs increased in distance, he stayed with me, step by step.  When we got to 15 miles, I could sense that he would begin to tire (mostly because of the heat), so on runs longer than that, I would call Brian to come pick Fredo up at the 15 mile point.  After the December marathon, I jumped right back into training for a February marathon, and since the weather was getting cooler, Fredo actually made it through an 18 miler with me.  Amazing!

In 2011, I focused on triathlons, and trained for my first half ironman--my training runs went up to 14 miles, and Fredo joined me for pretty much every run.  He got an eye infection that year and I had to leave him at home for a few weeks while it healed--oh, that was horrible!  Not only for me, losing my training buddy, but for him, as well.  He knows when I get my running clothes and shoes on (vs. getting dressed for anything else), and he did not like being left behind!  I remember he had a cut on his foot once that kept him sidelined from running...and seeing that he is a dog and doesn't know any better, he would have been out the door with me and running if he had a choice!

After the HIM, I went right into training for a March marathon.  Perfect weather for marathon training, especially for Fredo!  We ran over the winter months, and yes, Fredo ended up running a marathon-distance training run with me.  I hadn't planned it, but for my final long run of 24 miles I ran with a friend who happened to be training for an ultra marathon.  As the last few miles of our run took us on a paved trail past the parking lot where our cars were, he suggested that we just keep going a little farther so that Fredo could run a marathon...although my legs were not in agreement, Fredo seemed game, so we did.  Fredo ran a marathon in 4 hours!  Now, that's running time and doesn't count stops for water or bathroom breaks, but still, that's just over a 9 minute pace  for 26.2 miles!  Do you see now why he is the Wonderdog?

He has been with me through my Ironman training, though unfortunately not as much as usual because of the heat and my changed running schedule.  But he has joined me for all of my long runs, including a 16 miler this past Saturday.  It was a horrible run for me, but Fredo had a great old time, as usual.  I've got an 18 miler next weekend and 20 the weekend after that.  I wasn't sure this year if he could manage those distances, because he is getting older, but based on the way he easily handled 16 this week, I'm thinking he'll make it!

I don't know how many more long runs he has in him, but I know that I will be devastated (as will he) when he can't run with me anymore.  We don't know his age, but we know he older than 8 and more likely 9 or 10.  He does lick his front paws (ankles) sometimes as if they are sore, maybe some arthritis?  But he doesn't limp or complain.  He also sleeps a lot more after a long run nowadays, and sleeps hard!  I will keep a watchful eye on him as he ages to make sure the running isn't hurting him, and I will enjoy every minute I have with him as my buddy.  The joy he clearly finds in running makes my bad runs better, and my good runs great!  He is Fredo the Wonderdog!

Oh, I almost forgot...33 days!

On a winning attitude...

Quite a few years ago, I ran with a group from Track Shack (a local running store) occasionally for a mid-week run.  It was sometimes a tempo run and sometimes a track workout, and was one of my first experiences running with a group.  I had already completed my first marathon (Dublin in 2001), which included training with a small group of Team Diabetes runners, but I had never participated in a coached interval workout before.  

We were at the Trinity Prep school track one evening--I remember it was dark so it must have been in spring or fall, not summer with longer daylight hours (an irrelevant detail, it's just part of the memory).  I only knew one or two other people there who had encouraged me to attend the session.  I don’t even remember what the workout was for that day.  I know we ran about a mile as a warm-up to get to the track, then we did some sort of repeats.  There were all levels of runners there, some very fast, others mid-packers, and then me.  I was intimidated.  I was last.  What stands out, however, is that the “fast” runners, the ones who were likely running repeats in the mid-5:00 minute mile range, were just as spent as I was when we finished.  They were tired, working hard, pushing through pain, but getting it done to the best of their abilities.  I couldn't even get to an 8:00 minute mile pace at that time, but I was trying as hard as I could.  As I crossed the line for the final repeat (and I really was the last one), the others were all cheering and encouraging me, even the fast ones.  What I took from that experience was that it's hard for everybody, I'm not the only one struggling.  We're just all struggling at different levels. I started to look at running differently at that point.  I used to think I was just not a good runner, because it felt hard all the time.  But so what if it's hard?  Isn't is supposed to be?  Easy is too...easy.  I realized then that it doesn't matter what your final time is, or average speed, only that it's important to give it your all, whatever that is for you.

I was reminded of this again last week when watching an interview after Stage 9 of the Tour de France, when Dan Martin from Garmin Sharp and another rider broke away in the final kilometers, and Martin hung on to win the stage.  In a post-race interview, he mentioned that at one point his legs were so tired and hurting so badly that he wished the group would actually catch them because he didn't think he could push on.  Clearly he was able to put that momentary thought of doubt aside and push on to win.  Another example that at the top level, it's still hard, but maybe what separates the winners from the losers is the mental fortitude to push through.

 

I know I will need to call upon that winning attitude many times throughout the Ironman. There will surely be times when I want to quit, when I question why in the world I wanted to start such an insane venture!  But I will have my arsenal of positive thinking.  Here are a few that I've already come up with (I'm sure I'll add a few more in the next few weeks):

1.  I’ve made it through a difficult race situation before (quite a few times). When it gets tough in the IM, I will think about these past situations in which I made it through, knowing that even though at the time I thought finishing was unimportant and stopping would have felt SO much better, I kept going and I made it.  And I was fine.  No, not just fine, I was the better for it.  For example:

• My marathon PR in Tampa included a lot of walking and running on legs that felt like lead weights during the final 10K, but I kept repeating to myself that the faster I ran, the sooner it would be over, so "Just keep running, just keep running, running, running..." (Sung to the tune of Dory's "Just keep swimming" from Nemo).  I use this mantra a lot in difficult races
• My attempt at a Boston qualifying time at the Shamrock Marathon in Virginia Beach did not go as planned, and I was toast before the halfway point.  I wanted to stop and curl up on the side of the road, especially with such a long way to go, but I didn't.  I kept giving myself a goal to reach--the next mile, then take a 1 minute walk break, the next aid station, cheering on other people, etc.  Though I was way off a PR, I still finished with my second fastest marathon time  
• My PR half marathon in Tampa last year started out great, but the last 4 miles were so painful because I had (stupidly) gone too hard on a bike ride the day before, and my quads had nothing left.  I wanted to stop.  They actually hurt.  But again, I knew the faster I went, the sooner it would be over.  I missed my goal by 55 seconds, but it was still a PR.

2.  Remember good advice.  Just last month I was scheduled to do an Olympic distance triathlon that was changed to a duathlon because of poor water quality.  I had no idea how to approach the first run leg, since I had never done a duathlon before.  So I asked the coaches from the Seminole County Triathletes club, and they gave me some great advice that I used during that race.  To paraphrase Coach Dan and Coach David, "there is a difference between pain and discomfort."  If it's just discomfort, push through. Everyone will be uncomfortable at some point in a race if they are pushing hard.  Pushing through the discomfort can be the difference between winning and losing.  I pushed through a lot of discomfort in that duathlon and ended up coming in second place, passing the would-be 2nd and 3rd place finishers in the last mile of the run.

3.  Don't settle for just finishing...unless that ends up being the last available option.  I don’t agree with those who take the easy way out and say “but I really don’t care about winning, I’m just having fun.”  I think that's a self-protective measure to avoid failure.  After all, if your expectations (and expectations of others) are low, then it's easier not to fail, right?  It's not about the easy way, it’s about finding your limits, pushing past them, and then REALLY finding out what you are capable of!  But with that said, I do have multiple goals related to this race based in reality.  The final goal, should all others fail, is just to finish.  But I'm not going into the race with that goal, because I know I have trained for and am capable of more than that.  Not once in this entire journey have I thought that I might not finish the race.  It hasn't even crossed my mind as one of the possibilities.  Bad things happen, sure, unexpected things.  But why focus on that?  I am prepared physically, so the hardest part during the race will be using positive thinking to do the best I can, to combat the negative thoughts that will creep up, and to drive those thoughts away.  

4.  Draw strength from my supporters.  I will have a small cadre of faithful Sherpas at the race. Brian will be there--he is my biggest fan and an expert at understanding my OCD triathlon preparation ritual and nervous anticipation levels; plus my Mom, Aunt Karen and Uncle Jeff will all be there in person.  Countless others will be supporting me from afar, and have been providing me with encouragement throughout this entire journey.  Those of you who participate in athletic events know what a boost it is to have someone you know, even for just a moment, see you on the course and yell your name and encouraging words.  The value of those short interactions is immeasurable.  I want to do well not just for myself, but for everyone in my cheering section.

It's strange that a week can make all the difference in the world regarding attitude.  Just over a week ago I was feeling that the race was way too close, that I wasn't ready, I needed more time.  Now I am starting to get that anxious feeling.  That "wow, it's still 6 weeks away, when will it ever get here" feeling.  That means I'm feeling ready.  I'm excited, I'm pumped, I'm looking forward to the challenge and to see what I am capable of, how I handle the day, how I manage to combat the negativity.  

Six weeks to go!  I will do my best to maintain a winning attitude.  I'm ready!

P.S. Bonus article I read last week on positive thinking:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/james-clear/positive-thinking_b_3512202.html?utm_hp_ref=daily-brief?utm_source=DailyBrief&utm_campaign=071113&utm_medium=email&utm_content=BlogEntry

Getting down to business

July's Training Schedule...Busy!

 7 weeks until the Big Show!  Agh!  That seems like no time at all.  Isn't it amazing how 7 weeks feels different depending on what happens to lie at the end?  Seven weeks until the end of school, or a vacation, or a visit from a far-away friend...feels like forever!  The days and weeks drag by, you wonder if the time will ever pass.  Not so for me with this Ironman!  Normally at this point in marathon training I am ready for the race to get here, but I am not yet feeling that way for this race--more time, please!  I started on a 30 week training program in January...how did it get to be July so quickly?!?  And those of you who have trained for long distance events know that 7 weeks left of training isn't really 7 weeks, it's only 4 or 5 because of the taper.  For me, my taper begins 3 weeks out, where my training load drops from 20 hours a week, to 14 1/2, to 11, to race week. 


I knew at the start of this journey that I would have difficulty keeping up the commitment of my training in the middle, and I did.  I was 100% committed for the first 10-12 weeks, doing well, tired but not frustrated, though admittedly a little bored because of so many solo training sessions.  Then I had a great half ironman race in Clermont, and I think I needed a little mental and physical break at that point.  That break came a few weeks later, in mid-May.  Planning for vacation, going on vacation, my father's unexpected passing, going to Connecticut to handle his affairs...as they say, LIFE happens, and it definitely had an impact on my training commitment and nutrition.  At this point I look back and wish that I had focused on better nutrition a lot more during that time, but I didn't.  I ate poorly, ate too much, and all of that on a reduced exercise schedule translated into some unwanted weight gain and a little loss in fitness.  Luckily, I was able to climb out of the funk in mid-June, and have been mostly on track since then.  I still have eaten out at restaurants more than I should have, but I have also been doing well with preparing my foods and having healthy snacks available.  The damage has not been completely undone, however, and I am still carrying a little bit of extra weight that I should have gotten rid of by now (and by "extra" weight I just mean extra racing weight, not that I'm overweight).  My fitness has come back, though, and I'm feeling pretty good about that.

So here's the good, the bad and the ugly...in reverse.

The UGLY is what I just mentioned, that I'm carrying more weight than I would like to at this moment.  Can I do anything about that?  Yes and no.  I can move forward and focus on eating healthy, remembering that food is fuel and this IM-In-Training body needs fuel to perform!  So I will move forward by continuing to prepare healthy fuel so that I do not make impulsive bad choices for food.  No problem.  Moving on.

The Road to Success!

The BAD has to do with my cycling fitness.  I would like to be farther ahead than I am, and would have been if I didn't have the month or so of training interruptus.  The bike is a tough bird, since I do not have a bicycle trainer at home (except for the roller trainer, which doesn't provide a very good workout), the weather and travelling and blah, blah, blah...I basically missed too many long rides.  However, I have done well with the cycling for the past few weeks, so I will just focus on that.  Yesterday I did a 102 mile ride, the farthest I've ever gone on my tri bike, and I felt good.  My continued dilemma is my goal for the bike course at Louisville and my increasing skepticism that I may not hit that goal.  Now don't get me wrong or misunderstand--I am in no way being negative or feeling down about this--but I am trying to be realistic in my approach to this beast and my attempt to conquer it.  And I'm just not sure that I can hit a 6 hour time and still have the energy in my legs to run (not walk) the marathon.  I know I can hit that 6 hour mark if I hammer it, but that would sabotage the rest of the race.  So I will continue to train, continue to research the bike course and how to attack it, and come race day I will follow my plan of attack regardless of whether that puts me at 6 hours or 7 hours or somewhere in between.

The GOOD is everything else!  I have a renewed excitement for the event as it gets closer!  Yes, there is that throw-up-in-my-mouth a little bit every time I really think about it, but mostly I'm excited.  I know there will be fatigue, there will be pain, there will be "what the hell was I thinking?!"  There will be times where I want to quit, where stopping and curling up on the side of the road will be much more enticing than continuing on. But there will also be the sense of accomplishment to be had, the victory in knowing that I am capable of such a feat, the camaraderie with everyone else at the race.  Frequently during my training I envision myself crossing the finish line.  I will need to focus on that many times during the race, I am sure.  So here's to a renewed focus and energy, and the final stretch!  Woot woot!