"you can't stop, because if you do, then you won't start again." ~new friend from Riverside, IL

So here we go again, or, shall I say,  here I go again.  It's summer in Oak Park and Ironman is coming. Crazy time!!!! Yesterday I polished off a list of every workout that I aspire to finish before the end of summer.  When I can fit the whole thing on a sheet of paper, it's some sort of sign.  Well, it actually looks like some of the scratchy scratchy rantings that women on Telegraph Ave. (Berkeley) used to carry around and refer to, but to me it's a meditation, a method, an approach to organizing my time and goals.  But in response to the thickening of the training module, I'm up and down, emotionally, energetically, it's all in the package.

hmmmm....at least 80 workouts in 80 days...see a problem here?

  Today is a spectacular example of such.  The weather is simply fabulous, perfection indeed.  But as early as 6-something this morning I was grousing around in the pool.  Someone disobeyed pool etiquette this morning and when he didn't stop with the gentle pat that I applied to his heel, I simply grabbed his whole foot and stopped him, in order to swim by.  Poor fool, he didn't realize that it was a Master's workout and he was jumping in front of me, as I was leading about 5 other people into the final 100 of a 1500 meter set.  You just don't do that.  But I was up again and in good spirits soon after, joking around with chums and preparing for a fabulous Friday.  Now that the kids are away (zoo, and travel swim meet), I can polish off my first attempt at yarn-bombing in the backyard.  I've got a concept that will involve lacing high yarn bomb for wily grape vines to travel upon and over.

See the sky? NOT California!!! It's right here!!!!

 I'm loving it, but, as in all things, attaching the granny square to the tether is more difficult than it looks.  There's a situation with slumping together that I predict will drive me crazy in the not so distant future. Alas...here's my first shot, and I'm enthused, particularly given the amazing sky and backdrop on a morning like this.  

Rope from hardware store, heavy duty fun!

 I have hopes of adding more motifs, or some other sort of free-form work across the double ropes that cross from garage to house.  That said, I have a tendency to leave partially-finished projects out for a while. I guess yarn-bombing is more difficult than it looks and the same might be said of Ironman training.

I'm so fond of the lattice of wires in our sky.  It is what it is.

Sometimes we get to thinking, "If I only had more time," or, "If I was only as good an athlete as so-and-so", or "these kids/job/house really gets in the way of my Ironman aspirations", and one of my favorites: "if the weather wasn't so awful I could really pull this Ironman thing off!"  But on a day like today, when my kids are taken care of, the weather is perfect, I have time off from work, and there's no urgency attached to the house, getting out there for that six mile jog was still a really hard thing to do.  When I finally got out I walked and walked, and I stopped long enough to see if a friend was working in her yard (she was), so I could stall a bit more.

The slouching of which i speak: no longer a perfect square....

But I just about did it! Well, I really did do it! Today I did what I said I would do!  In fact, soon after I left my friend's yard, I took off running down Marion Street and I saw a rather older gentleman loading a road bike onto a car rack. He was wearing helmet, gear, and a TOMRV 08 jersey.  I couldn't resist: "I just did my first TOMRV this year!!Were you there?"  He smiled, and said, "No, my COPD has gotten too much, so I can't do TOMRV anymore, that's why I ride with this Oxygen tank (and yes, there was a small oxygen tank in the water bottle cage).  I was amazed.  We got to talking and introducing ourselves.  He reached out to shake my hand and when we touched, he said: "you've got a firm grip, and a wedding ring." What a twinkle in his eye. I was completely tickled.  After exchanging a few names of companions to narrow down our degree of separation, I said that I had to get back to running. He agreed: "you can't stop, because if you do, then you won't start again."  And how true is that?? There is wonder all around you. Go out and grab some!

The Furnace of Wind (TOMRV) --Andrew

How can I begin to say anything about this fabulous weekend? What ever I come up with will fall so far short of what I'm trying to communicate. So. Here. Goes.  It took me over two hours to get lost then find Jilly's and hubby's house, tucked away just outside of small-town Illinois.  Idyllic. Beautiful day, metal bike sculpture, outbuildings, greenery, vistas, fantastic.  And great big smiles from my companions in hurt. Two of us novice, two veteran TOMRV riders.  

Naturally, the Subaru fits right in with no problem, whatsoever.

Andrew, Jilly, Me, Colleen.

 We set off for Port Byron Illinois, which sits right on the mighty river, herself. The Mississippi.  An amazingly beautiful evening, with a house band, even.  It doesn't matter that the music was too loud, or that it wasn't great, it was summer & the weather was going to deliver us a 200 mile bike ride with no rain, no thunder, no cyclone.

Band, river, no bugs, warm summer night, americana. What else do we need?
Maybe a Portobello Sandwich? Check.  We're happy.

 Friday evening we couch surf with two of the nicest people around.  Life long cyclists and tandem-ists, these two own oodles of bikes and ginormous cred in the cycling world.  Ridden across country, across Alaska, across France, across Illinois.  These two own a load of tandems and were riding this weekend, of course.  I love meeting new people!

Check out the wind chime? Cyclists, through and through.

Looking at the sunset over the Mississippi.

Dawn on the Mississippi.

I'd say that as I experienced beautiful scenery and friendly folks, my spirit was pretty lively.   I tried to conserve energy, hydrate, fuel, and enjoy the view.

Andrew takes great photos on the fly. I'm impressed & happy.

We're about to cross the mighty river for the second time. Don't look down, through metal grates about sixty feet above the river. Looked fantabulous.

 Day one, it's a scorcher by mile 75 or so. We're eating popsicles and admiring the shade.  I comment that it feels like a Colorado summer day.  No humidity, hot in the sun. Lovely, but challenging on a grueling bike course.  Jilly says that the ride doesn't start until mile 75 and yup, she's right.  But by the time you ride 75 in 90-plus degree heat, you're already toast.  The final 30 or so was brutal, but we finished, proud and sunned.

I love this weather!!! says our fearless leader.

And so we survive day one.  It took a while. A tremendous amount of climbing, volume, and heat, but we're sated and gearing up for tomorrow. Nothing a night at Best Western and great big meal won't cure.

If only the hills and wind and urgency of the ride hadn't stopped me from taking more photos...but alas, I wanted to ride continuously, so my day two shots are limited. This is one of the few towns that opens up onto the river, we see commercial area, beautiful houses, lovely morning.  It's before 10AM and we think we have a shot at this. 

 After a night at Clayton College in Dubuque, we're off.

OK, yes, I'm addicted to dereliction. What can I say? How sad and profound this building on our river?

By the time we get this far it's past lunch.  The break-off point of the day is Preston, Iowa, where some people are actually finishing their weekend at 46 miles.  We've got another 43 miles, because our car is at the college where it all began, in Bettendorf, Iowa.  The last 43 miles hit us with a headwind that would slay the most mentally tough of athletes.  Thank you thank you that I was riding with two friends who were willing to team up and pace line the whole thing (our friend, Colleen, was super smart and didn't ride Sunday--but will next year!).  So there we were, it must have taken another 3-4 hours, my brain was so fried by the end of it all I couldn't calculate.  I'll close with a snippet of a lovely piece that Andrew wrote to a friend the following day:

our second-to-the-last-rest-stop mile 62 or so?

From Andrew:

"Yes, the tailwind was nice Saturday, but Sunday, turning left out of Preston into the furnace of wind, with miles and miles of straight flat road stretching ahead, dead into the wind, was depressing.  I just put my head down and kept track of Jilly's back axle and tire, keeping at most a foot back without crossing wheels.  I talked to myself to keep focus, reminding myself of how much I would not like to crash.  With my best wheel sucking, I was barely able to hang on.  At my first expression to Jilly that I was fading, she graciously asked what speed I would like.  I suggested 12 mph, and she obliged.  After a bit, I requested 11 mph, and found that I could hold even drafting, energy-wise, at that pace.  I also dropped back behind Karen, who was just as steady as Jilly, but sat up a bit taller.  Note that just about anyone sits up taller than Jilly when she's down in her aerobars.

I perked up (relatively speaking) at the rest stop in Elvira, and was honored that Jilly would accept my offer to pull for a few miles, and I was comfortable at 10 miles per hour.  It was good to feel useful and help the team, however briefly."

Hoot-n-Holler it's Healdsburg in July!!!

So before I write a mammoth post about last weekend's  TOMRV bike tour, I have to share a delightful story that I stumbled upon amidst the epic weekend.  Friend Jilly introduced me to a woman that she describes as knowing "since we were three" and having done triathlon and ironman for just as long.  A kindred soul, indeed.  Long time Ironman-er, PE teacher, and lover of life. 

Nancy's the gal second from the right (from her blog)

 Nancy also blogs about her terrific adventures, most particularly her most recent attempt to complete one marathon in each state...yes...one marathon in each state.  Fifty marathons? Holy Moly, Macaroni!   Jilly kindly introduced me as having done "a fistful of Ironmans" (Jilly has raced in all ten Madison Ironman and at least one other (Kona), probably others along the way.  So Nancy, it turns out, gets to chatting with me about where I've raced Ironman.  Canada (yes, both of us) and Vineman, back in the nineties.  I ask which year, and she can't quite remember, but shares with me that she is trying to prove she raced Vineman, so she can check California Marathon off her list.  I shared with my newfound friends that I might have evidence of her race results and their jaws dropped. "You save that stuff?"  I replied, "Not always, but I have a scrapbook, and I saved results from Vineman, back in the day when you waited a month or more for hard copy of race results rather than instantly available on the web."  So sure 'nuff, I go home and start plowing through my scrapbook, and there it is, plain as day, the second year I raced Vineman (1995) Nancy was there along side me.  In fact, our run times were only seconds apart, and our swims pretty close as well.  What a thrill! It's been seventeen long years since then, many life events, and here we are, still plugging away at a sport that has exploded in scale, popularity, expense, and everything else.  True Believer, Indeed!  Nancy looks absolutely terrific and is as charismatic as they come. 

Vintage Ironman:Northern California!

upon close inspection, tri-geeks, you might notice my tendency to explode on the run is long standing, but not terminal.

So much to notice in this old race packet.  The small number of sponsors, primarily local companies, somewhat related to healthy lifestyle.  Small number of participants.  20 female finishers, total, and this in an Ironman Hawaii qualifying race!  One of my fondest memories of those old times was that not only was there a reasonable shot for some of these awesome athletes to qualify for Hawaii, but the Kona slots were distributed at the awards ceremony, at which one must be present to take qualifying spot.  There was always one magic slot, a lottery, so to speak, reserved for one finisher of the complete Vineman.  Just think. Someone finishing late in the day, or with a not blistering race, by virtue of finishing Vineman and attending the awards ceremony, at which point they could applaud the age group podium finishers, this person could gain that coveted spot at Hawaii Ironman.  A reason to finish the race on what always is a tough day.   I remember whomever won that spot, they'd holler out from the rear of the Healdsburg Theater, where the ceremony was held, and it was truly the most exciting time of the weekend.  Those were terrific times!!!