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17 September 2007 Greetings from Amante Coffee Shop beneath the foothills of Boulder. I decided to take Joanna up on her generous offer to stay with her for a couple weeks.

Only my 4th day I've concluded this was the right decision to come here and escape the rigors of Atlanta training and all it entails. Anyone who lives in or has ever tried to train in Atlanta will be quick to assure you of the difficulties you will find in this city. The few places we have to cycle (all of which require 30:00 - 1:30 drive time, one
way) are quickly becoming more unsafe than ever without bike lanes and more construction appearing by the hour. The convenience of the
training in Boulder is even more appealing to those of us who deal with its opposite on a daily basis.

Although I am most definitively a beach girl, there is something compelling about the mountains. I am not sure if it is the way their majesty can make problems seem small. Or if it's the way the clean air completely defogs my brain. Or if the altitude itself makes for less blood
to my brain so I can maintain a more mellow state that is otherwise unattainable at sea level. I have not yet decided what I want to do about
IMF but imagine I will know by the end of this trip. I'm putting no pressure on myself and (hopefully) the right decision will flow through
me when my head has caught up with my heart, or vice versa.

I arrived on Friday and drove straight to the Boulder Res -- the site of the 5430 race series, miles of off-road running. Joanna lives only 2
miles from the Res but I didn't even pit-stop at their place to change (I knew I would get stuck chatting and delay my objective) - I changed
in the car (what is new?) and ran for an hour. No I-Pod, just enjoying the movement and the epic surroundings. Then to JZ's --- I knew I made the right decision in running first. :) Chatted with her hub and her for a loooong while. Our conversations almost always include discussion on my training, my fitness, my decisions... They are both hard core straight-shooters which can overwhelm me, but also helps with absolute
direction. Most people will border on inaccurate information in an effort to soothe your ego - but not them, and I appreciate their honesty
completely. There is no gray area with those two... this can help reduce internal clutter. Others may say, "Oh, you're fine. You're just tired" ... total BS .... JZ will say, "WTF? We need to figure out why you're so slow!" We deduced that my fitness is shit, there isn't much I will be able to do at this point to bring an A Game to IMF, my head
space is a mess, but everything can be worked on to make IMF 'better' and improve 2008.

I wanted to go for another run but Mark stopped me, "No. Put your bike together and go for an easy spin." Ummmm, ok. :) He was right to
suggest that. By the time I got it together it was 5:30pm. I would NOT have wanted to do this the next morning.

Saturday morning I swam with JZ and then we headed on for a 5-hour ride. I lasted, literally, 11 min on her wheel before my HR was nearing
threshold. This was her WARM UP. I surged up next to her and panted, "Dude, I can't hold this pace. I'm going to blow". Her mouth almost
dropped. "I'm not even riding hard!" I'm sure she couldn't believe the poor shape I am in. She told me to drop back and she'd go on alone. Within minutes she was so far up the road that it almost brought me to tears. For one of the first times in my professional athletic life, I cut a ride. I had intended 5 hours but was miserable, my heart was sad and I felt like crap. I rode for 3 and that was enough. During this ride I decided with 90% certainty that I didn't want to do IMF and
contemplated my impending retirement. Why put myself through all of this? Even at my best it is not like I am that good anyway.

Later that night JZ and Mark gave me all kinds of feedback - mostly, yes, that I am in bad shape but changes can be made. The advice was to
stick with trying to pull something together while I am here, and see how I feel in 2-weeks.

Sunday I went for a 30:00 run before my ride. My friend from college, Michelle Steiner, lives out here and is a pro cyclist.. She invited me to join their team for a 3-hour ride. She scoops me up from JZ's driveway and we bike to the starting point, 10:00 away. (HOW GREAT IS THAT??!!! NO DRIVING AROUND HERE!!) I lasted about 40:00 with her crew before they began their climb towards Ward (similar to Gaps) and I turned around. My plan for today did not include climbing. I finished up adding 2 hours with some built-in intervals, and felt not so bad. I also
passed a running Tim DeBoom and was pleased he looked so fit. Got off bike to run another 30:00. Didnt feel great but that's ok. Later
that day, Joanna dragged me to do track work with her. We did 400's and she wanted me to hold 1:45's. I was embarrassed by how difficult it was. She, on the other hand, was running 1:22's and talked about how "easy" it felt as we ran home post workout. I hate her. :)

Today is just a swim... I am planning a hike into the foothills later to simply enjoy my surroundings. No thoughts of Ironman, or retirement or what I will do when I grow up. Just breathe in, breathe out....

More soon.
Thanks for reading my journal.
C.

27 August 2007

So Ironman Louisville. I’ve been asked this question no less than 40 times: am I glad I raced? Well, yes and no. Up until Tuesday evening (August 21) I had decided against doing it. I hadn’t been running for weeks due to the stress fracture and had been strongly counseled by many in whom I trust that the first run back after an injury should not be a marathon on hard asphalt. Since I wasn’t planning to race I had been putting in some longer days on the bike (so I was not resting), had been drinking a bit (margaritas and wine are my nemesis) and had not cut off caffeine --- all the things I strictly do when my body is preparing to race. Then, Tuesday night hit… and the cyclone stressful day and a half began….

I had been feeling anxious about not racing. It had seemed the last few Ironman’s I had “intended” on doing always had something that happened, albeit legitimate, which forced me to pull out. I was sick of it. I just needed to race. Around 7pm Tuesday night I did an impromptu short run, like 10 min, and experienced no pain. I was on week 5 of stress fracture healing, so it was possible everything was ok. I called my coach and told him I felt no pain and asked if I should race. He said to absolutely do it. He told me 5 women were racing in the Pro field so it was a virtual no-brainer for anyone looking for a top-5 finish on their resume for 2007. Ok, I was racing. The next morning I made a series of calls to inform Timex, other sponsors and a few friends the race was on; word seemed to spread like fire – and EVERYONE had an opinion. The most lengthy conversation I had was with Zeiger. She was completely against me racing and did not mince words about its idiocy. “Ironman is to be respected. You’re not considering how hard that marathon will be!” She was concerned for my overall well being, was pretty confident I would have a poor performance and risk further injury in doing so. It was an emotionally charged conversation because everything she was saying was right but I was trying to defend my choice to race. Then my friend Pete (who had heard from Joanna I was racing) jumped in to further her comments of stern reservation. My emotions were raw at this point as I knew they had valid points to which I had little ‘intelligent’ response. I then spoke with Dr Julien and told him my dilemma. I said, “I need for you to give it to me straight. The race is Sunday. It will be 5 weeks of no running. Can I race?” He told me he couldn’t guarantee nothing would happen, but the location of my fracture was the best place to break a bone if I had to have broken it, and the chances of a catastrophe at this point was unlikely. He said if it was him in this situation, he would race. I felt torn. I had a handful of people telling me to go for it, to just give it a shot. I had another group telling me it was the most ridiculous thing I could do, and would likely damage impending IMF – my bigger goal race. My head was pounding in angst. The indecision was nightmare and not knowing the ‘right decision’ was making me nuts. Anyone who has done an Ironman will agree that lack of stress leading into race day, or as minimal as possible, is important. Yet here it was 4 days from Ironman and I was a complete basketcase of emotional indecision in my head. This was not ideal. I had a final conversation with my coach, which probably helped push me to the final decision. His words, “Those who are a success are the ones who are willing to risk, willing to do whatever we have to do to make our goals a reality. We don’t whine about wanting things to happen, we shut up and go make it happen.” I sighed. Ok, I needed to give it a shot. I spoke with Joanna again and she made me promise I would pull out at the very first sign of pain. She told me to get the folks at Timex to pull me out with force if I looked bad and seemed to be ignoring it. I could tell she strongly disagreed with my decision but ended with, “I’ll be following online. I hope everything goes well for you.” I was glad Heather was racing. We had trained together last season and are good friends; she would be a good source of support for me on the day. I was putting things into all the positive, proper perspective I could: since I was racing in not in the most ideal of circumstances (no real taper, no mental prep, caffeine and alcohol consumption, etc.), I had a certain amount of , ‘well, we’ll see how the days goes’ mentality to it. While I wasn’t feeling “confident” and “racey”, I was feeling incredibly relaxed. That had to count for something. Also, while I hadn’t run in 5 weeks, there is a fairly large amount of anecdotal evidence to support pool running due to injury could mimic run training fairly well. PNF had done this for weeks leading into a Kona win, as had Norman Stadler. My cycling was solid – I had done pool running so was prepared to run well off a strong bike with the rested legs. Game on. Let’s see how it goes. The race: About 15 minutes before the start, my stomach was just too bloated. I had eaten too much that morning. I walked to a patch of grass and puked my guts out. A group of guys encouraged, “You’ll feel better now, girl.” I smiled. I did feel better. Gollnick gave me a hug right before the pros entered the water, and we started our 3 min warmup. At the sound of the cannon, a paceline started right away and I jumped on. Soon I realized I was on Nina’s (Kraft) feet and just stayed right there through the entire swim. A few times I felt the pace was a little too slow, but I also felt it was fairly steady and I would come out of the water not at all tired. This was good strategy, I told myself. If I’m not winded I can stay with Nina longer on the bike. We mounted our bikes together, but we weren’t on the road more than 2 min before she peeled on ahead. Good grief. In hindsight I still think the swim was the right decision. Had I been trashed, my bike could have been even worse, if that was possible. At mile 10, Gollnick blows by me as she encourages, “Come on, girl! GO!” I had wanted to hold her off through, ideally, 50 miles, and keep her within 10:00 into T2. That was the plan. At mile 50 I got a split that I was 11:00 from her. Holy $hit. I have trained with her so I know how strong she is – but to be this far back on the bike already? “You’re in for a long day”, I thought to myself…” I never felt horrible on the bike, but I never felt good, either. I just never felt strong. I threw up a little bit but that is normal in the heat and when racing. I was drinking a lot and eating ok, so there was nothing more I could do but hold my HR and just ride. I had been training a lot on the bike amid my injury so I did not understand why I was riding so poorly. (I still don’t?) I decided the work required of me now was to do all I could to stay positive. There is nothing more demoralizing than being stuck in a race where you’re getting your ass completely kicked. It is really hard to stay in the moment and race your own race in this situation. Though I knew I wasn’t riding well, I tried to keep encouraging myself, and find praise in something I was doing. Sometimes this was merely not quitting…. I came off the bike more than 20:00 back from Gollnick, and about 8:00 from Kraft. I was excited to test my running legs. Happily, I felt good. A few miles in, Lee Amlicke was on the side and told me Heather was doing well, that she kept asking how I was feeling. I thought it was really sweet that she was checking on me amid her own day. She knew about the fracture and the week’s events. Each time I saw her bouncing cheetah self on the run course, she would yell for me to stay tough. The good news is that I honestly didn’t even feel my fracture. Dr Julien had likely been right in that it was probably almost completely healed. The bad news is that I was losing steam aerobically. I made it to about mile 15 before the lack of running volume was REALLY apparent. The tremendous amount of lactic entering my body was becoming impossible to ignore, and my pace was slowing. Amy Amlicke kept bringing me time checks on Mariska, who was running me down for 3rd place. Each time check was closer and closer, but there was nothing I could do. I was incredibly sore and was NOT fit for the last miles of this marathon. I was giving it everything I had but couldn’t feel my legs. At mile 24, Mariska caught me. I held out my hand as she went by and she squeezed it honorably. Though my heart was broken to lose 3rd so close to the finish, she had fought well and earned her place. I will always display the best of sportsmanship I can to my competitors and will be pleased when it is given back to me. Once she passed me, I completely blew. I was hunched over and hurting, and had a run gait which resembled a praying mantas. As I finally approached the finish line I forced a smile because I had PROMISED myself, no matter what, I would have a good attitude about the day. Just finishing an Ironman is what still matters the most, and I wanted to represent Timex well as a positive athlete amid one of her worst professional performances. I got across the line and doubled over, complete muscular failure. I couldn’t even stand and a wheel chair had to bring me to the medical tent. I was dizzy and exhausted to my core. I had absolutely given everything and could have done no more. So now I figure out what is next. I had sworn I was retiring 4 times during the race. : ) Part of me wants to call it a year and try to regroup for 2008. Another part doesn’t want to end my season with a race not reflective of my capabilities. Then, truthfully, there is the part which has finally really questioned how long I want this lifestyle to continue, if it’s worth it. (?) After endless months of sacrifice and ass-kicking hard work, it culminates with a torture-filled workday where I make $1,000. ? My birthday is September 1 so I’m going to take a few days, post-race, to reflect and let my mind-body-spirit relax a bit. If I want to try to regroup for Florida both Joanna and Heather have invited me to come and train with them as they prepare for Kona. I'm not sure what I have done to deserve their support but both of them are always such generous mentors. How lucky am I to have two amazing Ironman champions wanting to help me? This fact is not lost on me… I constantly tell myself that I must be doing something right. : ) Maybe being a kind, good person does matter… Thanks for reading my journal. C.

27 July 2007

The training has been hitting, and hitting hard, since I returned from Boulder and IMCDA. I’d been putting in consecutive 30-hour training
weeks and was/have been feeling pretty darn trashed (all the time!).

The training for Ironman can often play mental games with you …. You’re doing work designed to exhaust you, it is supposed to wipe you out. Rationally, you know this… but somehow when you feel like crap every day on the bike, or when you try to run up a slight hill and have to walk because you’re so winded, or you get lapped in the pool by a swimmer doing backstroke, the mind can play games. The caustic thoughts run through my head: maybe I am not training enough; I must be the least disciplined athlete ever; why did I ever turn Pro?; I totally SUCK,
etc., etc.

At the end of a tough block of training a couple weeks ago, I jumped into the Chattanooga

Dam Olympic race, last minute. Coach and I thought it would be a good push at the end of the block. I had various aches and pains going on, all things related to hard training, I affirmed to myself. While I don’t train for the fast races (there is a VAST difference between the preparation for Ironman versus the shorter races few people truly understand this) I still thought I could pull off a good day. But I acknowledged my fatigue, too; before the race that morning when I was unable to complete sentences I would just shrug and apologize, “Sorry. I’m a little tired.” Man, I was TRASHED. The race completely and utterly kicked my butt. The bike course changed to a much hillier route (it was an awesome, challenging course!) and my legs just had NOTHING. I pedaled as hard as I could, breathing so loudly I almost scared myself yet I was barely moving. Nothing was happening on that day. The 10k was brutal… I gave it everything I had and suffered miserably. I passed two of my IMCDA athletes, Trey and Andy, on my way in as they were just starting their runs – they both yelled for me but I was in too much exhaustion to respond. Andy later told me, “Dude, you were a mess. You had slobber and snot all down the side of your face and you were breathing so loud. I thought, ‘well that looks uncomfortable’.” I finished the race not even with a Top-5 finish, and I was the only Pro racing! Even as exhausted as I was, I was a bit concerned having placed that poorly a month out from Ironman. That isn’t to imply the other women racing were not solid athletes. Each of them could have challenged me hard even if I was rested so there is no shame, as far as I am concerned, getting beaten fair and square by strong athletes. My own race (splits, etc.) was simply pitiful. Expecting a lecture and total ass-chewing, I called coach to give him the abysmal news. He replied with a laugh, “That’s AWESOME! You are seriously trashed. That is GOOD, Carole”. I was stunned. He was pleased I did poorly? “Hell yes! You have been training your ass off. If you smoked a fast Olympic I would be concerned your Ironman training was fucked. You’re right where you should be.” Pheeew! It is so valuable for me to have his objective counsel to put everything in perspective for me. He shoots straight with me ALWAYS and is the first to yell at me when he feels I deserve it (which is a lot, let me tell you…) His complete lack of concern over this race gave me renewed vigor. So… a few days of rest and then right back at it. Or so I thought. Several days before the Oly race another “pain” had reared its head. I had been having nagging pains in my shin when I ran but like every other pain, I ignored it. I likened it to shin splints and just kept on plugging. In recent weeks I’d been having serious ongoing issues with my back, my tibial tendonitis was again being treated, my rotator cuff was seriously inflamed, so what was one more? I wasn’t fazed. Just keep on keeping on. As elite triathletes we’re conditioned to ignore pain, even warning signs of potential big problems. It is often difficult for us to distinguish between the real concerns and the normal aches associated with hard training because we know we’re not supposed to feel good. Our job is to suffer. Literally. Discomfort, sores, pain, fatigue, misery – it comes with the package. Training hurts. Period. This isn’t Disneyland this is serious WORK. Those who can’t take it usually aren’t around very long at the elite level. In a sick and twisted way, over the last couple of years I have grown to embrace these painful experiences in training. I use them as mental toughness exercises and I constantly challenge myself, even chide myself, with intense curiosity if this will be the moment I am not tough enough to take it. In these moments I am at my most curious as to what I will do. In each moment, I taunt myself. I cuss and utterly abuse myself at what a pathetic piece-of-shit athlete I am. I thrive on these opportunities because they have helped my racing tremendously in terms of my ability to withstand suffering. So the shin (tibia) pain just got worse and worse after the Oly. I kept training, 25-30 hour weeks, long runs, short runs, fast runs, until my run a few days ago: a 2-hour run at close to IM pace. It hurt like shit right away but, of course, I kept going. I even yelled at myself to push harder, that JZ (Zeiger – the toughest athlete I know) wouldn’t even think about this pain. That night my leg was throbbing and I couldn’t walk on it the next day. Even I had to admit something was wrong. I went to see Dr. Julien immediately. It’s a stress fracture. My medical team (Dr J, Josh and Collette) have been taking extremely good care of me and are providing their usual hands-on, extraordinary attention. I am constantly reminded how fortunate I am to have these three people on my side. I called JZ to give her the update; her response was SO her: “Shit! Damn that sucks!” Ironman Louisville is 4-weeks away. This presents some obvious concerns… but as of now I am still planning to race it. I won’t do something which will cause long-term damage, but as my coach reminds, my job is one which involves a certain amount of bodily risk - and an acceptance of this. I don’t do this “for fun”. This is my paycheck. Why couldn’t I have become a horse jockey? : ) Thanks for reading my journal. C.

07 JULY 2007

It feels good to be back at home after my month being in Boulder , respectively. While I whine about the miserably inconvenient training we’re subjected to in Atlanta every time I come back to it after having been some place else, there is something to be said for one’s own bed, their “routine”, their friends…

Special thanks to my good friend, Joanna Zeiger (and her awesome husband, Mark), for housing me (putting up with me?) for the duration of my stay in Boulder. JZ and Mark live right in the heart of Boulder, only a couple miles from the Reservoir (a popular place to run, site of the 5430 race series, etc.) with perfect proximity to everything. As usual, Joanna is such a generous mentor to me, always trying to help and teach me more. I will never be able to thank her enough for all she does for me. (And trying to hold onto her wheel when she invites you to ride with her will dish you a HUGE piece of humble pie…. I timed one of my rides with her - I was able to hold on for 7:00 before she pulled on ahead. This was just warm up, too. Enough said. )

JZ is also a tough, no-nonsense, straight shooter. I love this about her.
Perfect story: Day 1 in Boulder. We were in her kitchen and I was lamenting about my recent ½ IM run blowup at mile 8, the cramping, etc. I went on with my saga in my usual dramatic way, retelling the lack of salt tablets I took and not knowing how to handle this for the heat of
IM Louisville. She just shook her head and said matter-of-factly, “You need to figure that shit out, now!” I laughed at that. She has a way of cutting right to it.

She also happens to wolf down fluffer-nutters (peanut butter and marshmello fluff on a tortilla) faster than anything I have ever seen.

Thanks also to my sweet friend, Monica Caplan (Byrn), for all the quality girl-time, meals and good talks. You’d never know this chick was such a fierce competitor because she has a heart of pure gold. The workouts she coaches are top-notch, and getting to swim on her feet during
our swim sessions together (for those moments before she turned on the gas to drop my ass like a bad habit) required a blistering pace. It made me feel like a swimmer again…

Monica and Gordo are known for their meticulous, quality eating. During one of our diner's together I lamented over the menu, nervous as to my selection with one so conscious of choices in diet. I asked for her suggestion because I REALLY wanted a cheeseburger but also wanted to eat well. She asked what my training was for the next day and I told her a 5 hour ride. She answered, “Just eat the burger. You are riding long tomorrow!” AMEN to that!! I think I screamed out loud when given her approval. :)

Monica may soon single-handedly be responsible for truly getting me back in the pool, too. That would be quite the feat. The other night she talked me through some swim workouts over the phone and I am checking in with her as to their completion; the accountability factor is so
important. Sometimes it takes a swimmer to help a swimmer, and she is stepping up to help me get it together. I’m forever grateful. (Thanks, Monica! You rock!)

From Boulder (aka: triathlete heaven!) I flew to Ironman Coeur d’Alene to support my amazing group of athletes from Atlanta (15 of them self entitled “Team Focus”) whom I had been coaching for this event since August. This was their first Ironman and I found the nerves
completely different from this vantage point (i.e., supporting their success and not racing). Cheering for them and providing on-the-course encouragement in order to help them through their day is a memory I will hold close for a long time. I’m deeply attached to this group as both a team and unique individuals, and am THRILLED to report that every one of them to crossed the line to join the Ironman Family...

See, aren’t they beautiful?!

I was also honored to get to help my friend, Scott Rigsby (previousnjournal feature), on race day attempt to become the first double-amputee athlete to complete an Ironman. He fought an amazing battle, making it to mile 11 on the run …. He now sets his sights on KONA where he will realize his goal and cross the line…

Scott and I were so lucky to get to stay with the amazingly-generous Rick and Roxanne Gunther. Their lovely home is, literally, 5 houses away from the Ironman expo, right on the course. I think we were closer than the host hotel! Both Rick and Roxanne were the consummate host and hostess… beyond that, however, they are simply incredible people who constantly made me laugh. In only a few short days, I somehow feel as though I now have a family in Coeur d’ Alene, Idaho. Thank you, R & R! I miss you both!

Scott and I sitting in the Gunther’s kitchen to discuss his race approach. Note his running legs resting against the table.

More soon.
Train smart!
C.

30 MAY 2007

Oh boy. The screws have started to tighten. Oye!

I can tell in myself that I am shifting towards the more disciplined regime. I’m back on a relatively early curfew (in bed by 9:45pm every night – in 6 weeks it becomes 9:00pm) and I’ve started to be much more conscious of what I eat.   A little over a month ago I started back on the “accountability routine” and had my body fat taken by one of my best friend’s (and personal trainer), Dorie
(Geissler) Downs, at her fitness studio in Atlanta.
www.excellenceinexercise.com

My weight. This is something with which I will probably always struggle. My dad chuckles about this and often has said, “I’m sorry, honey. You didn’t get good genes”. Meaning, we are all fatty’s in my family. : ) None of us on my father’s side or my Italian mother’s side has ever been thin. With some of it is due to a inactive, unhealthy lifestyle – the rest of it is, well, we all like to eat! I think this is something a lot of athletes can identify with in me and appreciate; when they look at me they see I am not the typical rail-thin triathlete who eats 6 sunflower seeds for a snack.   I think people appreciate this as it makes me seem more real… (?)

It’s not so much that I would even call myself “fat”, although this is certainly a valid descriptor for my previous life.   I am a BIG girl and this has supreme
disadvantage. All of those early years swimming and lifting created my huge shoulders and lats. My back is enormous. When I get smaller before Ironman it
is funny because my waist gets tiny but my upper body is massive. Funnier still is trying to go bra shopping! When I get lean my boobs seriously shrink! (Great – the only thing I do not want to get smaller does! That is so my life…) My cup size gets small but my back is so wide – no bra fits this. I am so sick of stuffing myself 14-weeks out of Ironman all the time. : ) Ahh, but I
digress….

So my body fat and this weight thing… Dorie, my guiding force and confidant, is a former professional dancer and was in a ton of body fitness competitions… she is queen of knowing what to eat and when. (My BF reading a little more than a month ago was 20.4%. That is completely unacceptable for a professional athlete. I was horrified!)

Dorie is one of the few people in my life who truly understands my strife with regard to my body type and how it relates to triathlon/Ironman.

Here’s what I mean:
Last season she put me on a strict diet in prep for IMF. Everything was down to an exact science of specific things at specific times. Basically, anything that
tastes good you can’t have. And you had better like chicken because you’re going to be eating it every day. Plain pasta had better be a favorite, too. Raw spinach and broccoli – your best friend. Imagine my horror to find out that dried fruit isn’t ok!!!!!   DRIED FRUIT?! It’s still FRUIT!!!!   “Yes, but the ‘dried’ part is the bad part. It’s loaded with sugar!” Good grief.   Anyway,
though I was not nearly the disciplined soldier Dorie was in her days of competing (her BF was like 7%), for me I was pretty stinking good. I got downto 15.1% body fat right before IM – so pretty lean for me. Also, I was wearing a size 1 (often a size 0!)… I was pretty thin – a size 1 for God’s sake… yet I weighed 136lbs. Most women who wear a size one weigh 115lbs.   Dorie completely sympathized with this as she knew that was still a lot of weight to have to carry across 140.1 miles of Ironman. The ‘runners’ (where the race is won)
typically weigh 110-120lbs. My extra 25-35lbs is a lot extra to have to carry. Dorie once said it best, “I don’t care if the 20lbs is broccoli or beef, it’s still 20lbs to have to carry 26.2 miles!”     She gets it.

So even when I get lean, I still battle with more weight to have to carry around relative to body fat ratio. It sucks! But it’s the deal, so I deal…

My last session with Dorie a few weeks ago included analysis of my food journal. Funny how we’re never as good as we think we are until we actually write it down
and review. Of course Dorie noted the flaws and the various things I need to improve upon. She gave me many instructions, but the worst one was cutting the
red wine….

“How much wine are you drinking?”, Dorie inquired.

“At a time?”

“<laughs> Well, yea, and how often are you drinking?”

“Ummm, every night, maybe a bottle. (?)”

“<laughs> EVERY NIGHT? Good grief!”

“You said red wine was ok!!”, I tried to persuade.

“Yes, but EVERY night???! You need to cut it down. 1-2 glasses maybe 2x per week.”

“2x a week???!!!”

“Yup,” Dorie replied, unfazed by my pathetic attempts to sway her.

“But you said red wine was OK!” I repeated. I was getting protective of the only thing I had left that I loved. I was hoping she would feel sorry for me and
just let me have it. Nope…

Dorie looked me dead in the eye. “How many bottles of wine do you want to carry during Ironman??”

I laughed. “Ok. I get it”.

So… wine consumption is down to 2x per week (complete cut-off once I hit July), very few “treats” with my eating, limited caffeine, and evening curfew earlier than when I was 15-years old.   My life: up by 5:30am, train, breakfast, train, lunch, nap or work, make dinner, return athlete calls/emails, go to bed.   Man, I am just FUN!!!!!

Train on.
C.

14 MAY 2007

Greetings, Friends.

I just returned from racing the popular southeast favorite – Gulf Coast ½. This was the 25th anniversary and also my first ½ in 2001. Sentimentally I had hoped I had enough fitness in the tank to win it since this was the race that first introduced me to long distance triathlon.   What a full-circle journey that would be!

I was not sure what to expect from the first race of the year but was excited to just get out there.   I was thrilled to learn Fish (Andrea Fisher) was racing – she is so talented and I hoped would help to raise my game. I was equally thrilled my Timex teammate, Gabriela Loskotova, would be racing. She just finished St A’s 2 weeks ago, the 101 on May 6th and now was ready to pounce on GC.   The sweet Helen Libby would also be there – my Panama City hometown pro friend is always so great to see.

Though the results of the race indicate I was the winner, what isn’t shown is that Andrea had a flat tire on the bike. She had put a lot of time on me even by mile 25, and flatted shortly thereafter. I hated to see that when I went by her.   None of us like to finish better than we may have because a competitor had something happen out of their control. It’s part of the deal with the sport
but is never something any of us feel is fair.

To Andrea’s credit, she fixed her flat and caught back up to me by mile 45. (!!) When she went by me I was honestly glad for her (not to mention impressed by her
ability to bridge the gap!) because I felt the injustice of the situation on her behalf. I tried to encourage her saying, “Good job, girl!” She didn’t say a word; I could tell she was mad as a hornet and I didn’t blame her.

We left T2 within 40 seconds of each other. I held back for the first 3 miles, concerned I didn’t have the run fitness either. After mile 3 I decided it was time to see what I could hold and went by Andrea for our final pass. I really did feel badly about it. Had she not flatted she probably could have shuffled the ½ marathon and still beat us all, but I also knew in my shoes she would’ve
continued with her race as needed, too. It’s our job.
Again, it was bitter-sweet.

Definitely, I got the fitness-feedback I needed at this race for where I am in May. My swim is in better shape than I expected. I still can’t explain that given my recent splits in the pool. My bike is WORSE than I expected. I still
can’t explain THAT given the quality rides I have been having the last few weeks. I was holding my HR where I needed to on the bike and refused to let it go higher even when I was so demoralized by how far behind I was – this was where my fitness was and it was all the information I needed. My run is also not what I had expected. Given how low I held my HR on the bike I should have cranked out a run split faster than 1:34. I wasn’t even close to that and am a little disappointed.   This is the deal, however. This is where things stand.
It’s now time to get to work and make the changes needed.

I am more thankful than ever to have my friend, Heather Gollnick, here in a few weeks for our annual week-long training camp. I am way behind in my fitness and
have already sent her the 911 smoke signal post Gulf Coast. “Alright, let’s get you going” was her response. I’m trying to mentally prep for this impending physical torture knowing I am about to have the crap beaten out of me until I am bleary-eyed with fatigue.   While I look forward to our time together and know I need her – I also go into it with serious apprehension. I know the pain for
which I am in store and I am AFRAID.

Will keep you posted on it all.
Thanks for reading my journal…
C.

27 MARCH 2007

Several weeks ago I was graced with the privilege of spending the day with Scott Rigsby.

Many of us have come to locally recognize Scott in Atlanta as the double-amputee athlete who is seen bouncing around joyfully on his prosthetics, but he is now beginning to gain the national (and perhaps international) exposure he deserves www.scottrigsby.com

A group of us were doing a long ride outside Atlanta and had met to drive together in caravan fashion. I had been introduced to Scott before but had never had the opportunity to get to know him. Needless to say, I jumped at the chance to share a car ride. “Can we ride together?”, I shyly asked him. “Heck yeah, that’d be great!”, he replied enthusiastically. I had expected to drive us but he immediately began clearing a section for me to sit in his truck before securing my bike to his car rack. I had asked if he needed help but he had quickly replied, “Nope”… I felt almost useless as I stood to watch this man maneuver through tasks with virtually no sign that he was in any way handicapped. Frankly, I’ve seen people who had their legs struggle through things with more difficulty than Scott. Already I decided I was his biggest fan.

Everyone loaded into cars and, ever the southern gentleman, Scott came around to open my car door. I had to tease him, “Dude, you don’t need to get my door. We’re not on a date!” We both laughed. Bear in mind I had just squatted by the car to pee only moments before and was likely burping and making all kinds of unlady-like noises, yet Scott demonstrated only chivalry. Just who had the manners here? He probably thought I was some freak show but appeared to be highly entertained by me… so I continued with my normal antics.

While driving we chatted about a range of topics to include my previous years on my personal fat-farm, what triathlon had done for my life, etc., until we made our way to discussing his accident years ago, which left him without a leg. He talked about his many surgeries, his decision to remove his second leg and his ambitious athletic goals: current goal in sight – to become the first double-amputee to complete an Ironman.

‘Rigs’, as I call him, completely captivated me. He talked about wanting to help people with disabilities, to show others who weren’t fortunate enough to have use of their lower half that their lives weren’t over. Suddenly I felt incredibly small. What he was doing with his life and with the hand he had been dealt was nothing short of majestic. I knew I loved him when his competitive fire came alive… when he spoke of fellow amputee, Rudy Garcia, a courageous young man who is often seen competing in the same challenged category, Scott declared, “I want to kick his ass!” I loved it!

Rigs went on to tell me how much he admired me. (HUH?)

“Look at what you’ve overcome. You pulled yourself together and became this awesome athlete and awesome person, too!”

‘Look at what I have overcome???’, I thought to myself. That was a pretty ironic statement considering the company I was in.

“I think you’ve been through a lot in your life. You’re really inspirational…”, he said.

I almost teared up.

I was speechless, completely awe-struck by the grace and humility of this man who had every justifiable reason to hate the world. Instead, he takes the time to make other people feel good. He has a special gift in that he somehow makes you feel incredibly worthwhile and good about yourself while in his company. Never mind trying to boost his ego or soothe his bruised self confidence – that isn’t needed. He’s completely secure within himself. Instead, he prefers to help other people shine. Wow. I can honestly say that, in just our brief private time together, he has made me want to be better.

There is nothing more I want for this man than to get every single thing he wants in this life…

I will be cheering him on at Ironman Coeur ‘d Alene, and I hope you will, too. He is training in the very capable hands of my friend, Coach Tony Myers, and knowing the spirit of Scott Rigsby, there is NO WAY he won’t cross that line.

You go, RIGS!

Please support his efforts – he is so deserving of it.

My own training had finally gotten going until I was sidelined, once again. My longtime close friend, Brian McGrath, recently swung through Atlanta from his FL residency before preparing to begin work as an ER doctor with his girlfriend in NYC.. Brian and I taught high school together in CA almost a decade ago (before he fled to Harvard for medical school – ahem!) but have remained close friends. I last saw him at IMFL 2005 when he came to support my efforts that day.

While sitting to chat on my couch, Bri finally grew tired of ignoring my deep cough and phlegm-clearing hawk sounds.

“How long have you had that cough, Sharpie?”

“Ummm, a while.” (Many weeks, actually.)

“Uh huh.”, he said, annoyed by my negligence. “Been sleeping a lot?”

“Uhhhh… yea….” I was stunned by his accuracy.

“Had a fever, chills?” He asked.

“Yes, actually, but it’s been a while” I replied.

“Mmm- hhhmmmm”, he said with his lips pursed tightly. I could tell he was getting parental with me. “Loss of appetite? Diarrhea?”

I lowered my head in shame, “Yes”…

Brian shook his head in disgust. “You have bronchitis, Sharpie...”

“Crap! Are you serious?”

“Yes! Listen to you – you sound like an 80-year old with emphysema and asthma!”

I laughed but knew he was right. I had to admit it. I was sick, and I’d been sick for a while. I’d been complaining to friends for weeks that I had been sleeping a ton, which had seemed very odd for me. I never sleep well, yet I was getting 10-hours a night and it wasn’t enough. I would train, come home and still nap, too. Occasional chills or fever didn’t faze me.

“Well can I keep training? This can’t turn into pneumonia or anything, can it?”, I asked foolishly.

“YES it can, you dumb ass!” Naturally, his obvious response.

I love him. Not many men can or do talk to me like this. My best male friends, Brian and Steve Riddle, are the only two men in my life who do as they totally know how to handle me. They both let me assert my alpha dominance until they have had enough of me, and then are quick to put me in my place to remind me who really wears the pants in our relationship. I love this about them both.

**And let me please offer public congratulations to Steve and his FIANCE’, Ann Moellering, on their recent engagement. !! Anyone who meets Ann instantly falls in love with her and my boy Steve is, of course, as good as it gets. I am thrilled for their pairing!**

So Brian approved some antibiotics for me to help ward off any lingering infection, but told me this was viral and wouldn’t respond to medicine. I simply need to REST.

Of course I jumped into the Atlanta ING ½ anyway. Probably a foolish idea, but I wasn’t planning to unleash anything. I just wanted to see where I was in my fitness at aerobic pace.

ING was a tough course! WOWIE. But this was officially my first run race (meaning, not a triathlon) ½ marathon so I wanted to do it. I ran incognito using a friend’s number but didn’t throw down anything spectacular. No worries, just a training day.

Highlight was seeing Scott Rigsby! Before the race Rigs gave me a huge bear hug, which is always the way we should all start any race. : ) He started early in the challenged-athlete category, and I thought of him as the gun went off for us. I wanted to catch him and encourage him on the course. A few miles later, as I approached him, I felt a surge of pride as I watched him bounce along on his steel-coiled rods, spectators glued to him from the sidelines while they cheered on this incredible vision who defied their belief. I patted his back and then squeezed his hand once I caught him saying, “You’re doing great, Scott”. We locked eyes and I smiled at him as I went by. He made me laugh as he responded in his typical, flirty way once he knew it was me, “Hey babe! You look great, hot stuff!” I knew he was doing the full marathon and part of me contemplated staying and doing it with him. I knew I needed to stay on track with my own training so I kept going… but I was tempted! Something about Scott Rigsby makes you want to do more than you perhaps had originally planned….

I’m now doing my best to do as little training as possible so I can get well, regroup, and get my season back on track. I’m a little frustrated but not deterred. Perhaps this will help ignite my own motivation. My first race is May 6: the One O One series #1 in Bradenton, FL. I’ll likely spend a few days training with my buddy, ‘Big G’ (Heather Gollnick), who lives there. It should be a tough race with heaping competition… I hope to get back to training soon…. I have a lot to be ready for this season.

Thanks for reading my journal.

10 FEBRUARY 2007

Greetings, Friends.

I just returned from a fabulous 4-day trip to Puerto Rico! I was hired to be one of the guest speakers for the annual kick-off meeting for the company ‘Radiant Systems’. My presentation was designed to help motivate people as I tried to weave together the theme that a strong mind and body conjoined can (and does) accomplish more. Naturally I used triathlon as the backdrop for this presentation and I could not have been more proud to be a representative of our sport to many people who had no idea what triathlon (or Ironman) was. Not to mention hopefully getting some people simply moving. A sedentary lifestyle breeds discontent. No one knows this more than I.

I was the morning breakfast speaker on the 3rd day of their event and I began my presentation with a teasing, “Just what you want – it’s 8am and you’re tired, hung-over, eating bacon and there’s some athlete up here speaking, right?” I got a good laugh from the ballroom full of people, which is always the way I like to start any speech. The comic in me is always about the ‘punchline’. Making people laugh is truly the greatest feeling. After the presentation, I enjoyed an unending stream of people who continued to approach me in the hours to follow to kindly tell me how much they enjoyed it, how much they got out of it, etc. I had showed a 10-minute video of Ironman to include race day footage plus some clips of the training involved in this crazy thing we do to launch my presentation – the video was a huge hit!

Many, many thanks to all the WONDERFUL people I met during those days at the Radiant Systems Convention. I cannot begin to recount the dozens of hilarious stories shared with people who completely took me under their wing for the duration of the convention and made sure I was having fun. I do not remember a string of days where I have truly laughed so hard and I am grateful beyond measure…

Puerto Rico was a trip I will remember fondly forever. I loved having a few days of R&R … I didn’t realize how much I needed it.

Thanks for reading my journal.
Carole

20 JANUARY 2007

Has it really been 3 months since my last entry? Good grief. Thanks for the many emails sent requesting “the Florida race report” and to get my journal updated. I have been humbled (and surprised) by how many people seem to look at
this thing. I had better be more careful as to what I write. ? ; )

I am currently in Arizona enduring a self-imposed 2-week winter training camp. I teamed up with my buddy, Heather Haviland (she lives here), to get some training in together and it’s been great. I had talked my friend, Erin Ford, into coming down from Oregon for a week during the time I would be here and it has been great to get to train with her, too. My training has been going well and I am eager to get this season rolling.   More on the AZ training in another journal entry.

Now, the recap of the race:
Ironman Florida 2006

It was a freakishly cold day this year for Ironman FL. Holy crap! I’ve never seen so many fleece coats and thick hats in Florida!

What I remember most was being remarkably calm at the start of the swim, in a trance of deep focus. This was when I knew I would have a solid day. I couldn’t control some type of mechanical breakdown – but mentally and physically I knew I was ready to go. The last time I had felt this way at the start of a race had been IM Lake Placid 2003, my best finish to date.   I took a deep breath and stared out at the choppy waters feeling confident, no sign of fear.

The swim was really, really tough. Wow. Talk about rough water. I’m a swimmer and even I thought it was tough. I was tossed all over that water. Nearing the end of the 2nd loop, I completely lost the pack I was with as a huge swell flipped me over and pushed me a good 10 yards in the opposite direction. By then we had caught hundreds of age groupers and it was just a sea of piranha out there. I had no idea where the elites were after being flipped over, all I could see were white caps and swells and a million swimmers.

Exiting the water someone yelled I was 45 sec back in 2nd. I suspected Andrea (Fisher) was in first and, sure enough, when I ran in the tent she was quickly assembling herself. There is nothing like the urgency of T1! We ran out of the tent together and as we were mounting the bikes, Hillary Biscay joined in and the three of us headed out. 5 miles into the bike leg a support motorcycle came by and went to each of us to give splits from the other racers. Among the
names, Bella was 2:30 back (!!!!!) and Heather (Fuhr) was about 7:00 back. “Holy shit”, was all I could think to myself about Bella. She’s normally 10 minutes behind the lead swim pack. This is not good news for me – I know she can ride and she holds the run course record. That is the most amazing swim improvement for an elite I had ever heard of, and in those conditions! Good for
her with all her hard work.

I was feeling pretty good on the bike. Through mile 30 Andrea was leading in sight, and Hillary was in front of me by about 15 seconds. I felt we were riding at a pretty good pace relative to my ability. I didn’t feel the need to surge or the need to drop back, so things were right on. Soon I started to lose Andrea ahead. I kept waiting for Hillary to pick it up but she never did - I knew I needed to reel Andrea in or I’d be dropped. As I went by Hillary I said, “Stay tough, girl, you’re doing great.” She replied, “You too Carole.”   At the next split I was 1:10 from Andrea, but over the next 40 miles I slowly reeled her in to 20 seconds. During this time, however, things were falling apart. I had thrown up and was not keeping anything down in terms of nutrition. Every time I ate or drank something I would burp it right back up. By mile 90 I was TERRIFIED. I knew my run was in big-big trouble.   Andrea was ahead by about 20 seconds and the few times I tried to pass her to get myself going I wasn’t
strong enough. (I thought she was riding really well and was surprised after the race when she told me she had been sick, too.) Heading into T2 with Andrea, I was covered in vomit, mostly just smelly clear liquid (yum!), and was about to
head into complete unknown with this marathon.

I had trained my ass off this year and had improved my running a ton. I wanted to break 3:30 and was confident going into IMF that I would. In this moment, however, I had no idea what was going to happen. I began that run knowing I hadn’t gotten in the proper nutrition during the bike. I was scared. In “classic-carole”, within a quarter mile I was running with a vengeance, determined to ward off the demise as if by sheer will.   You’d think I would have learned by now that this doesn’t work.   Funny how your brain can go numb during this event!

Thankfully, my coach, Tim, was on the sidelines and prevented a huge catastrophe. I nervously told him I had thrown up the whole ride. He ran next to me and said to slow it way down, to let Andrea go and get in as much nutrition and hydration as I could. He told me I was going to be fine and to hang tough.

I slowed way down, ate and drank as Andrea cruised by. I was already in trouble and this was only the beginning of the run – this was not good. Dammit! I kept a slow pace as I tried to regroup and keep myself together mentally.

Before mile 3 Tim came by on a mountain bike and told me to get moving. I had begun to feel a bit better by then and soon enough somehow got into my rhythm. I reeled in Andrea, and then Bella went by us both looking fantastic. Soon I was feeling pretty good and began to pull ahead of Andrea, and realized I was back in this game. I was in 2nd. Andrea stayed within a minute or so of me for another 12 miles, so I could never ease up, but what was of greater concern was
that Hillary was making up time rapidly. Tim kept bringing me splits every few miles and by mile 18 she was only 3:30 from me.

I’m not sure when my worst moment of the run began. It was more a progressive erosion that began around mile 19. Bella was in another time zone ahead and would not be caught; Heather Fuhr had dropped out. It would now be a battle for second place. Hillary was under 3min from me, had passed Andrea, and now was in
3rd. Holy crap.

Tim kept bringing me various splits, everyone was gaining on me. My entire body was wracked with pain and every ounce of me was filled with lactic acid. I was almost to mile 22 not knowing how I would survive the last four of this
marathon. These final miles had virtually nothing to do with the physical body. By now my body was useless. I was totally exhausted…

I was getting close to mile 23 when Tim came by again. He was not happy. This time his tone was different. He was calm, but very, very serious. “Carole”, he said, “This is the deal. You need to get your shit together right now. Hillary
just made up 1:30 on you. She is going to catch you if you don’t go.”   As he biked next to me I struggled on in silence.   He took several moments before adding, “I have been right where you are. That year in Kona... I know you can
do this, honey.” Then he biked ahead to position himself to get another split.

I knew the race he was referencing. He had told me about it during one of our rides in Boulder this summer…. Tim had been in 10th overall at Kona and the men were gaining in the final miles of the run. He dug deep but admitted that part
of him gave up - and he fell back to 12th. He still finished in an amazing 12th, but I know, to him, he looks at that race with regret.

I decided right then I was racing for both of us and that I wanted to right that moment in Kona for him. My race was now almost identical to what his had been – and there was no way I was going to let him down or let all his hard work with
me come down to me simply not being strong enough to suffer.   It was because of Tim that my season was saved, that I was in the best shape of my life, and I was in 2nd place at Ironman Florida. These last miles were now for us both as a rage filled within me to get this done. I couldn’t repair Tim’s race years ago for him, but I was going to make damn sure I didn’t fall apart in these final minutes.….

I’ve never told Tim about those final miles and what I was thinking… but with my heart and my guts completely exposed, every ounce of me giving the fight of my life … that was for us both.

A few minutes later Tim came by and enthusiastically told me, “You just put 8 seconds back into her!!!” As he rode by he looked back and yelled, “You’re my hero!” I still had two miles to go, so my fight wasn’t over. I silently pushed on, completely focused on willing my body to endure this unbelievable pain.

This truly wasn’t just about keeping Hillary from passing me. It wasn’t just to keep 2nd place. This was more about the fight of the human spirit. I desperately wanted to give up. Everything was cramping. I was in so much pain.
For me, these last miles were about one thing: will I quit or will I fight? If I kept fighting but still was passed, I would have been just as happy. Truly, I believe that. This moment and this race was about the journey – the journey to stand in the face of obstacles and self-doubt --- and refuse to quit.

As I crossed the line in second, I can’t describe the enormous well of relief, exhaustion, euphoria and pain I was in. In those final miles, I had not given up. That’s all that mattered to me…   There was a time when Carole Sharpless would have quit. The elation I felt was, certainly, partly that I had finally finished on the Podium in an Ironman... but it was much more about the knowledge that the woman who once would have given up doesn’t exist anymore. And I couldn’t have been more proud of who Carole was on that day.   In the heat of battle, the fighter emerged…

I’ll never forget that…

Thanks for reading my journal.
Carole

14 OCTOBER 2006

It is difficult not to look at my watch today and think about where I will be, or where I *hope* to be, at different hours of the day just 3 weeks from now. Today is three weeks from Ironman Florida. The stomach butterflies are settling in and I am getting excited. This is truly such a good sign for me… I haven’t been nervous about racing for several seasons. I’d been eager to race but not ‘excited’. This season has brought that excitement back for me (and coincidentally my strongest racing season ever?). I know myself and how I race: having the fire in my spirit leading into IM is a good sign.

I have put in a really good block of training since 5430 in Boulder, so I am pleased with my preparation. The last couple of weeks included some fitness tests at IM race pace and the results were very good. I am in the best shape of my life physically (except for when I was 13 years old – but Tim laughs and says, “Yeah, but you couldn’t run then!” True…) , have made "race weight" and mentally am tougher than ever. My confidence and belief in myself is at an all-time high. I am ready for this Ironman as I have been for no other. Now, I just need to put it together on race day.

Game on.
C.

2 October 2006

And the hits just keep on coming….

(Good, powerful hits, however.)

First things first, here are some pics from the 5430 Long Course race in Boulder last month.

5430 Awards: Marilyn McDonald,

Sunny Gilbert, Karen Smith, me,

Joanna Zeiger, Criag Alexander, Cam Widoff

My awesome support staff – my cousin,

Andy - with whom I stayed while training

in Boulder.

Yoda (Coach Tim) and Sharpie after 5430

The training continues to move right along. In mid-September my good buddy,Heather Gollnick, came up to stay with me for a week so we could do some training together. Now that she lives in Florida, it’s tough for her to trainon anything other than flat roads. She wanted to do a killer training block in the hills and mountains as her final “push” before she tapers for Kona.
Needless to say, I was game. A training block like that would serve me well as I continue to prepare for IMF (3 weeks after Kona).

Not only did I want Heather to get in some solid training, I also hoped to provide an ideal training environment where she could truly rest. A doting mother of three, she never really has down-time, and doesn’t have the luxury most of us do of being able to be truly selfish with her training needs: laying on sofas with the remote in hand after a long training day, taking long baths, napping, etc., etc. Heather is too busy thinking about her family 24 hours a day to consider her own needs as an athlete beyond the few hours she is able to carve in when the kids are at school and her husband at work. I was hoping to give her the gift of getting some real REST amid her tough training.

We had a fantastic week together, holing up in our little training mecca – no distractions, only focused attention on each day. We started our week off with a bang by doing a local Olympic race. I dragged her to an Atlanta favorite,
Tugaloo, which is known for course difficulty.

Big G and me just before Tugaloo

It was a fun way to get our bodies revved up, and fun for me to get to race with/against her. As I always say, you only get better by racing people who are better than you. “Big G” had reeled me in by mile 15 of the bike and had me in her sights. She later told me when I looked back and saw her at a turn (around mile 18) I picked up the pace and she was like, “Oh crap!” Whatever. I’m sure she was just saying that to
make me feel better, but it was nice to hear.   I held her off through the bike but Heather, of course, blew by me a quarter mile out of T2-and that was it. She dusted me by 2 minutes! But she looked fantastic and racing together like
that was helpful for our impending training week as we were able to see some things in the other which needed work. (My list of needed improvement was much longer than hers!)

After the race we took advantage of being at a lake as it was a great opportunity for us to get in an open water training swim. We worked on her drafting/sighting and I tried to give her some pointers. She doesn’t need many but this is her only weak portion of Ironman (if you call a 54:00 IM swim weak) and I wanted to help her.

After the race we plotted out our training attack for the next 6 days: long sessions of riding in the mountains, running at Kennesaw Mountain, swimming at Lake Lanier and various pools. It really was a great week. Aside from getting
my ass kicked each day by her, we have similar easy-going, fun-loving personalities which made for a cohesive week.   Much of it was spent laughing like school girls, talking triathlon “who do you think is doping?”, sharing training secrets and eating like pigs. Additionally, somehow I discovered that she had never seen even ONE episode of ‘Sex in the City’ – we had to rectify
that! We got the whole series on DVD but only made it through half of season three. Watching those episodes became our daily incentive: “Once we get through this final hour we can go home and watch Sex!”, Heather would say. : ) (Glad no one overheard those comments – imagine what they would think!) With piles of
food in our laps, we would giggle through each episode.

Our training week was awesome. I am so excited to see what she puts together in
Kona. The girl is tough and she is ready! Her comments of feedback to me included that I look fitter and am stronger than she has ever seen…. and I am a good eater! Excellent. She helped me so much with my cycling and running and I
am eager to put her tips to good practice.

A few more weeks of tough training and then it’s time to taper. I’m trying to be disciplined about the little things as well as the big in these final weeks. I am on a strict curfue - in bed by 9:30pm, no exceptions, every night, all alcohol completely cut off (man oh man do I miss red wine!), caffeine cut-off coming, diet as good as I can possibly manage without losing my sanity, and as much stress eliminated from my life as possible. Though these are the things other pro’s have been doing without even thinking about it, many of these acquisitions of intense discipline are new to me this season (thanks to Tim) and require tremendous effort. I’ve always worked hard, but everything has been elevated to the most disciplined lifestyle I have ever lived, with continued notations as to how to improve. I understand, however, that playing in the Big
Dog League requires these choices and I accept them wholeheartedly. In an odd way, I have grown to really like it. I thrive in an environment of structure and consistency - and this lifestyle certainly offers that.

This training season has been tough but also so incredibly rewarding, and I have learned a lot about myself.   I am also certain my confidence will soar on that starting line knowing I have done absolutely everything I could to be ready.
Due to that, the outcome, in whatever place I finish, will be more rewarding than I can express knowing the work I have put in and the amount I have sacrificed. It won’t be about who has finished before or after me, it will only be about how MY day played out. Only one term will come to mind in that moment: self respect. That’s awesome.

Thanks for reading my journal.
Train Smart.
C.

5 September 2006

Greetings, Friends.

5 days ago was my …. E-gad!… 35th birthday! WHEN did that happen?!? I can’t even imagine myself older than 19 (which is often older than my mental age! Ha!). This was a rough birthday for me on a few levels. One of which was that
it marked my 20th birthday without my mother and I was missing her a bit more than normal today. I allow myself to ‘go there’ only a few days a year: my birthday, Mother’s Day, Christmas and her death anniversary….but I don’t normally allow myself to wallow in a pity party even on these days. She wouldn’t stand for that. I normally spend portions of my birthday privately with her in my mind, reminiscing, and talking with her as if she were standing next to
me. Tears tend to be rare, but this year they were plentiful. I softly asked if was making her proud and kind of lost it when I heard the echo in my head of the response I longed to hear, “More than you could know.” 20 years without
her has left me unsure what she would say – but I hope she would be proud...

I also spent time surveying my life… am I where I thought I would be at 35? I thought about it but didn’t take long to arrive at the conclusion: NO. Nothing is as I thought it would be. Years ago I was certain I would have my family by now… its absence is the void with which I still struggle. In an odd way, I liken it to that feeling we triathletes sometimes experience on a cloudy day during the open water swim in Ironman: we’re swimming and swimming, looking for that damn buoy to help guide our course but just can’t seem to find it. At certain points we think we see a buoy, but as we get closer we discover it isn’t a buoy at all – it seems it’s just a huge pile of floating pelican poop which only looked like a buoy from afar! :) Perhaps we are off-course because there are no other swimmers around. The water is murky and a bit choppy, and we’re out there totally alone. We know the buoy is there somewhere and in order to finish this race we’ve got to keep going… so we do. We keep going and going… and going… hoping we’ll eventually bump into that buoy that was right there waiting for us the whole time. We simply had to get to it in our own time and
in our own way.

Mmmm, facile analogy… or maybe not. ??

In the interim, the closed door has indeed led to an opened window. Who knew I would have the incredible fortune of living my life as a professional triathlete?? WOW. The people I have been fortunate to meet, the places to
which I have traveled, the opportunity to further enhance my mind/body/spirit triad are all blessings I never dreamed of having. Though this lifestyle is TOUGHER than anyone not living it could understand, in an odd way I have never
been more professionally happy, or felt more complete, in my pursuit of a path for which I believe I was destined. It’s an incredible feeling to be doing something you truly believe you should be doing, and also lucky enough to be
happy doing it. For these reasons (and so many more), I am counting my blessings on this 35th year. I am working harder than I have ever worked at anything in my lifetime. Though I would like to think my mother would be proud
--- I am making MYSELF proud. Perhaps that may even matter more... (?)

On my birthday I was thrilled to have a bar-full of my triathlon buddies all together in one loud house! It was wonderful to see so many friendly faces. Often times we barely recognize one another when we’re showered and dressed in
things other than bike shorts or cap and goggles. Ha! Loving thanks to all my friends who joined in the celebration, and for the many who wanted to but couldn’t make it. I am blessed to have each of you in my life.

Enough sentiment. Updates already.

Ok, I spent the month of August training in Boulder, and it was AMAZING. There
is simply no way to condense all I endured, learned and was exposed to in 1 journal update. I could fill 97 pages of a novel with this stuff. So let me offer just a couple “highlights”:

1. Once again, coach Tim (forever my Yoda) continues to raise the bar with what he teaches me, expects of me, and instills in me. We rode together on several occasions and the professionalism (plus ass-kicking hard work) he is teaching me is transforming me as a pro athlete. He pushes me and cusses at me and is hard on me… but it’s because he cares and he wants me to be better. I thrive on it, how hard he pushes me – because I know if he didn’t believe in me, he’d be home resting or getting in the training he needed for himself. Instead, he is out there with me, never cutting me an inch of slack, always pushing me to be better. And I am determined to make him proud.

2. Training with “Speedy-Z” (Joanna Zeiger). This woman is a rocket ship and it was humbling to train with her for a few days after our 5430 ½ race (she won and I placed 2nd). We swam and rode together on several occasions and she was
a fantastic mentor to me. I took in so much useful knowledge while observing her dedication and our talks will continue to serve me well. One ride day in particular stands out. After the 4th time she had to stand-down to wait for me, I was exhausted and so embarrassed by my ability which pales in comparison to hers. I sadly said, “I’m so sorry. You just go – I’m worried you’re not getting done what you need to do for yourself because of me”. In serious tone as though she was scolding me, her response was simple and direct. She looked back and only said, “Don’t be sorry and don’t worry about me”, and then she picked the pace right back up. I took the cue from her and it was the last time I will ever apologize for my pace in training. We are professionals and we’re at work. No apologies, focus only on yourself, and just do the work.

I am now 2 months out from Ironman Florida. The field is becoming more stacked with each day that passes as more super-stud chickies sign up to race. I’m getting excited, which is a good sign for me. I know there is nothing I can do about anyone else who shows up to play. All I can do is prepare myself to the absolute best of ability… and believe me, I am taking care of that. 8 weeks to go… Bring it.

Train Smart.
C.

21 July 2006

The daily grind of self-discipline continues. The recent weeks have been steady with some good training, mixed with the usual hard days that go along with it. My training has become much more isolated now, much more solitary, since it has become so specific. I train every day. They begin to blend and the only way I can typically distinguish between a Saturday and a Wednesday is with the car traffic to my rides. Ha ha.

Had a bit of a “fun” excursion. The AVP Tour (pro beach volleyball) came through Atlanta in the early part of July (www.avp.com). Not many people know that I am a volleyball-child. My parents were relative big-wigs in the sport throughout my upbringing (my mother was the Head International Scorekeeper in the 1984 Olympics and is in the VB Hall of Fame. Dad is a former Vice President of USA Volleyball and has been on the Board of Directors forever) so I literally grew up amid this great sport. Beach VB is a whole separate deal, but just as exciting to me. Through my parents I have had the thrill of knowing many of the powers-that-be in volleyball… one of whom being my friend, 1988 Olympian and Pro beach volleyball legend, Liz Masakayan.

Liz and me after the preliminary round.

I dragged my good friend, triathlete phenom Steve Riddle, with me to expose him to this extravaganza. He seemed to have a blast! Liz hooked us up with the total VIP deal (complimentary margaritas in the tent, no less!) as she is now coaching the wonder team of Elaine Youngs (aka “EY”) and Rachel Wacholder.

Liz giving EY and Rachel some tips

during a prelim game break.

It was great to hang out VIP style over the 2 days and watch the tournaments… and so great to have had the chance to go to lunch with Liz in between games on Sunday before the girls WON the Tourny!! Good job, Coach! Funny – Liz shares her massage therapist with Wendy Ingraham … so it was fun to dish about our mutual friend, Wendy. Ha!

Raced the Chattanooga Waterfront Olympic last weekend.   What a thrill for me to get to race against the dominating Andrea Ratkovic (aka “Rat”)! I have been such a huge fan of hers for years (who isn't?) so this was awesome for me to get to go up against her, head-to-head. I had met her years ago at the CA ½ and thought she was as cool as she was talented… and let me tell you – she is TALENTED.   This Olympic Trials Triathlete was also not only once the elite duathlete of the year, she was also the elite triathlete of the year! She kills everyone on the bike, which speaks volumes given she has a 2:34 marathon PR. Good Lord.

Naturally I knew going in I had NO chance in hell of winning if Rat was racing. Not just Rat’s talent, but I don’t train for Olympic distance. That’s a huge disadvantage. But I am never intimidated by anyone and always just do what I can. This is my job so let’s GO! I told Tim that Rat was racing… I view Andrea as the female version of Tim with their shared duathlon dominance and dubbed her “Tim Luchinske with a vagina” …. he laughed at that and told me the race was going to hurt A LOT (oh goodie!). Rat would run fast but so would I and give it everything.   He reminded me I am not trained or rested to smoke a fast Olympic, so just let it rip and see where the chips would fall.

For someone who has been so injured, Rat looked pretty darn fit. She’s amazing. We chatted for a bit before the race and I reminded her of our meeting at the Ralphs ½ years ago. She’s just as cool and fun to talk with as I had remembered. I am such a fan of hers! She is definite hero status to me because she busts her ass in training and is tough as nails. I love that.

So the race began and I swam as fast as I could knowing this was the only place I would put time on her. I felt like crap. Within 10min I was out of gas and (as usual) yelled at myself for not swimming enough in training. (Do I never learn in ANY race?) I swam off course and got hit in the head with a kayak trying to steer me back in – this is caught on tape and is hilarious to watch - but finally made it to the dock and was soon running to my bike.   I pushed the bike pace as hard as I could, breathing like an out of shape oaf for most of it. Around mile 8 I puked all over myself. Lovely. I was expecting to see Rat at any moment… I would try to push it a little more but started to lose steam at mile 14. There was a distinct section where, throwing up again, I knew she would be gaining time. I tried to hang tough and was in complete shock when I made it to T2 without her having caught me. Did she flat??

As I ran by my friend Dorie screamed to me the split of 1:15 and that no one had gone by yet. (Where is RAT?, I am thinking.) No sooner did I hear the split did I see Rat streaking on her bike towards T2. My quick calculations discern I’m going to have about 2 min on her for the 10k. Pppffft. I almost decide to just walk right then. No way in HELL will I hold that gazelle off over six miles with only a 2min buffer! But I am determined to try. I run as fast as my legs will go, breathing heavily, and suffering over the challenging stair-filled course.   I see my teammate Dan Moss (aka "Boss Moss") heading back in, leading the race. He looks amazing. Normally we slap hands in races when we pass each other but this time neither of us did anything... we were both suffering like dogs.   Soon after my teammate Jeff Boyd (aka "Boyd Man") flew by like a locomotive on a mission. I had no energy to yell for him but gave him a Thumbs Up.   He could only grunt as he went by.

I finally get to the 3 mile turn-around and as I head back, I see Andrea FLYING towards me. She looked fantastic. I looked at my watch and figured she was about 45 sec from me. It was only a matter of time. I knew once I was in her sight from behind it was all over. It’s such an advantage to have your competition in front and just focus on their back as you reel them in. Always better to hunt than be hunted.   I check my splits and notice that each mile is getting much slower. I am almost out of steam. I just don’t train for this high-end pain. Olympic distance racers are truly my hero's. That crap HURTS! You’re redlining for 2 HOURS!! Forget that. Ironman is exhausting but it’s never that kind of anaerobic hell. At mile 5 Andrea pats my back as she ZOOOOOOOOOMS by me. I just shook my head thinking, “You go, sister. I've got nothin’ for that!” She put 2 min on me in that final mile. Good grief.   At the finish line I gave her a hug and called her a stud.   She said to me, “You gave me a run for my money, girl!”

What a thrill. I gave a world-class champion a run for her money! That’s awesome….
My teammates Dan and Jeff took control of that race, as usual. They took 1st and 2nd place, respectively. I was so proud of my boys!

A couple days later in her race report Andrea wrote: “Before the start Carole Sharpless comes up to me and tells me that I'm her hero. Carole won this event last year and is an up and coming pro triathlete. I take one look at her and realize that she is going to kick my ass up one side of this river and down the other. She is a striking woman with broad, beautiful shoulders. She smiles and assures me that I'm going to be fine. I'm thinking to myself that I'M the one who's going to be doing all the chasing today.”

I thought her words were so funny!

I’m getting ready to head out to Boulder for another training stint – will be there for a few weeks in August and will be, once again, hitting the 5430 ½ Ironman. This year I am taking the wise advice of Cam Widoff (thanks, Cameron!) and going out to Colorado 2 weeks in advance.   Hopefully with this approach the race won’t be the altitude lung-buster it was last year. Yikes. I’m actually excited to race it this year to gauge my improvement over the year. I am also really excited to get to spend some more time training with Tim and plan out the last 10 weeks of my training before taper begins for Ironman Florida. There are some heavy-hitters already signed up to race that sucker. (Is it Kona??) Good grief. Ah well, as I said before, I am never intimidated by anyone and always just do what I can. This is my job so let’s GO! :)

Thanks for reading my journal.
Train Smart!

20 June 2006

What a whirlwind few months since I last updated.

In early May I competed in the Gulf Coast ½ Ironman. I was excited to try this race again as I hadn’t done it since 2004 and had been the previous amateur champion for 2003 & 2004. It holds sentimental value to me. : ) Plus, I was eager to see how things were going with my training. As I always say, you just don’t know until you race. Some things just cannot be replicated in a training environment.

I was pleased with the way the race went. I was within a pretty big couple weeks of training volume, so went into it a bit tired. Karen (Holloway – IMC winner 2005) rocketed past me within the first mile of the bike, and I never saw her again. (Sheeesh!) She looked great and is, no doubt, priming herself well for her impending attack on Ironman Germany. Towards the last few miles of the run, Heidi Grimm went by me saying, “Don’t worry, I’m not a Pro!” I thought this was hilarious (and actually quite sweet) and answered, “WHY aren’t you??!” This superstar amateur went on to pass Karen and won the race outright. Good for her. So, I finished 2^nd Pro behind Karen, but 3^rd overall. The best news of all was that my running split was my best since 2002! I broke 1:40 which was my ONLY goal for the day. Given that I hadn’t rested for the race, this was great feedback as to how my training is going.

A few days later I was on a plane for 3 weeks of training in Boulder: land of the free, the brave, and the Professional Triathlete. Indeed it is! Tim (my coach) lives there and wanted us to do some training together as well as wanting me to have some of the Boulder training at its finest. My awesome family (my cousin Andy & his stud wife Michelle) also live there and they opened their home, as usual, to create such a perfect training environment for me …. Each day I would get up and either jump on my bike or go swim, have an afternoon nap (the true Pro Triathlete ritual!), later a run, the gym, whatever. I rarely saw them and felt like their place was a Bed & Breakfast! But it was perfect – all of it. Thank you A & M! I love you!

A few highlights from training:

1. Running with Tim on “Magnolia Road”.

This 8000ft in elevation run on dirt trails is everything its reputation is built up to be. It was beautiful but also quite the challenge. After descending a slight hill for ¼ mile, the road starts to climb, and the legs start to burn. Forget trying to get in oxygen. Tim ran by my side for a bit before he took off like a cheetah. Within seconds I could barely see him. Man that dude can run. (Did I mention Tim recently retired as a Pro Triathlete and is now training to qualify for Trials in the Marathon? He wants to run a 2:17. Mother of God.) The road proceeds to ascend through rolling hills for 3 miles before a full mile climb. Then we get to run back. Tim ran me down for the running back part and offered his usual humor to get me through the rough final minutes. He also told me there was nothing biomechanically wrong with my run and absolutely NO reason I shouldn’t be hitting a 3:25 marathon in Ironman. “But I suck at running”, I lamented. “You won’t for much longer”, he said with quiet confidence.

2. “The H Factor”.

My friend, Heather Haviland (3rd at IMWI 2005), was also training in Boulder when I was out there, so we were able to get in a few good sessions together. Sometimes it’s difficult for the pro women to train together because many of us get too competitive. Heather and I aren’t like that with each other and I love that about us. We rode together on several different days, during one of which I affectionately started calling her “The H Factor”. The girl is a frickin MACHINE when climbing, and riding in general. No one told me I’d be riding with Jan Ullrich’s sister! Sheeesh.

One of my favorite memories was during our mid-week 4 hour ride through the back country roads of Boulder. We began chatting about a range of topics but ended with what it’s like to always train with men, as she and I predominantly do. Hea said, “Don’t you hate it…I mean, it’s cool that they love us and we’re one of the guys, but then they forget that we really ARE girls!” I totally agreed with this and admitted to finding it the double-edged sword. I adore my male training partners… but, you know… I DO still have estrogen in me, fellas! She followed it up with, “But I guess we can’t blame them… I mean, we are burping and blowing snot rockets better than they are!” We both laughed.

During this conversation I had mentioned that I really had to pee, so for a while we had been looking for a discreet place for me to drop down. There was nothing – this was open country road. No t