This year’s version of the Shamrock 8K was about facing a challenge with laughter. Which was good. Because half the race was in a wind tunnel, I forgot how to properly dress for an outdoor event and there was no smell of Cheerios to help me through the tough times.
“You don’t have to get up,” Mark said as we relaxed, trying to fall asleep to a particularly sad and disturbing double …
This was not the race I had planned. It was not the race I had trained for or prepared for. It was …
The alarm clock was not a pleasant sound. The desire to race was not dancing through my mind. In fact, in the …
On the bus ride to the starting line, I turned to Sue and admitted what I was feeling: I don’t want to …
My parents were perched on the top of the bleachers, giving them a view for a good quarter mile of the runners …
In the distance was the red glow of the finishing line clock. The numbers were barely visible to my eyes, blurred with …
The tone of disgust was unmistakable. On all fours, scrambling up the side of an extremely muddy hill, climbing over fallen tree …
Yesterday was Ironman Esprit by the numbers. Today, my official race report. The rundown of the swim, bike and run in Montreal.
It was not a pretty race, this intermediate distance at the Cazenovia Tri. The water was bumpy and the bike was hilly with headwind, yet I surprised myself on the run. Training through a race can bring a different perspective.