My Mom's First Triathlon

Reprinted from Deborah AdairThis is my mom's blog post on her first triathlon.

Swim, Bike ... RUN

The medic was pouring ice cold water over me, barely even waiting for my permission. In a reversal of roles, my daughter Kelsey was hovering, telling me to go sit down in the shade. She told me later that I had looked pretty bad.

Only the afternoon before, when I announced to my husband (a nationally ranked Ironman) that I was going to race, I was mostly joking. But somehow after the words came out of my mouth, they became a decision. It was the afternoon before The 19^thAnnual Granite Bay Triathlon, a sprint distance triathlon: .75-mile swim, 13-mile bike, 5-mile run. I knew that the bike would be no problem, but I swim only occasionally just 50 laps of a sparkling clean pool. And I don’t run.

So I sorted through my clothing options. An old one-piece bathing suit and scratched up goggles, a pair of bike shorts with minimal padding. My shoes that only ever see the inside of the gym. And my Rudy Project glasses. Those were essential. Kelsey offered to loan me a running visor, which I refused because I don’t usually run with a hat. I don’t run.

My husband reminded me that I don’t run. I really don’t. In fact, I hate running. I told him that all of that time on the boring elliptical trainer at the gym has got to count toward something. And to prove my point, I put on my shoes and ran a mile around the neighborhood. See? I can run!

The good thing about deciding the day before is that there wasn’t a lot of time for nerves to get in my way. My friend Kirby was racing for the first time also, and he doesn’t swim or bike. But he’s Kirby. Part of my motivation to race is to honor my daughter Kelsey. This race is hosted by TBF Racing. Kelsey is like some type of legend or best friend with these people. She has raced and won and volunteered and cheered with TBF for several years, and everyone out there knows and loves her. But right now, she is debilitated from Crohn’s Disease. She had gotten up out of bed that morning to cheer for Kirby and me. She mustered a happy face through her pain and discomfort. And all of her TBF friends were happy to see her out there. And around TBF I am known as Kelsey’s mom.

At the start of the race, the announcer asked how many people were racing for the first time. Quite a few of us raised our hands. I felt better, less of an imposter. Then we were off!! Another newbie and I had decided to start at the back of the heap. I thought through what little I knew about open-water swimming. Kelsey’s advice the night before was to alternate breathing right to left. And in between look ahead. That sounded reasonable, but when I swim at my gym. I have a side to hold onto whenever I want to stop and rest. In the lake there’s no side and no bottom to stand on. And this water was not sparkling clean. As I swam, I heard the woman behind me (yes, behind me) gasping.  The monitor on the kayak instinctively followed alongside her. I stopped and reminded her that he was there, but she stubbornly refused to stop to hang on.  I couldn’t see the buoy, so I followed the feet in front of me and tried not to get kicked. The only other swimming tip that I could recall was that in triathlon, you swim with your arms and save your legs for the run. I kept trying to remind myself to save my legs, but when I was as far away from shore as I’ve ever been in my life, I was also thinking that I really wanted to make it back safely, and I didn’t want to hang onto the kayak.

At last the gooey shore was under my feet, and I ran through the swim finish. I high-fived the new girl who had started with me, as we got out of the water at the same time. The lake was low, so we had about ½-mile to trudge up the hill to get to our bike transition. I decided against running back to transition, thinking that I’d better save my legs for the run.

At bike transition I realized there were some details of triathlon I’d wished I had learned ahead of time. My feet were covered in sand, and now it was time to put on socks. I wished I’d packed extra water to clean them off. I brushed them off the best I could with my towel, got into my bike gear, had some water and a handful of peanuts and headed out. I’m not going to say that the bike was easy. It was relatively uneventful. I did drop my chain (which has been an annoying issue lately). And I learned something very interesting. One of the bicyclists stopped and asked if I needed help. How nice and unexpected that offer was! I was fine. I didn’t need help, but it was encouraging that he genuinely wanted to help. The one bit of bike advice I knew was to “spin.” Keep your bike in a lower gear and save your legs for the run.

On these sprint distance triathlons, you see all different shapes, sizes, and abilities. I have a pretty decent bike. There were plenty of cruiser bikes and racers with sneakers. I even saw some pedals with straps. Of course plenty of people were in it for the competition, but I’d say that most, like me, were in it for the experience. Ok, I’ll confess, I did make a point to power past a couple people on the bike.

Triathlon is a cruel sport. They make you do the worst thing last. Running. I don’t run.

I had already decided to run in my bike shorts and bathing suit. I know that I did not make much of a fashion statement, but it was the best choice with practically no time to prepare. And I did, after all, have my Rudy Projects. So all I had to do at the second transition was hang my bike on the rack and change shoes. Oh yes, take off the helmet. I only remembered that because of how many times Kelsey had mentioned it before the race. Take off the helmet.

I started off the run at a walk. Yes, I didn’t even run onto the course. I wanted to actually drink the water and Gatorade that were handed to me rather than wear them. I figured that I could probably run a mile before needing to walk. After all, I had proven to my husband just the night before that I could run a mile. And so I started to run. I planned to run to the 1-mile marker. Trail running is a lot different than the running that I don’t do in my neighborhood. It’s bumpy. And hilly. And hot. Well, maybe I wouldn’t run the whole first mile. I’d run most of it and then walk. Well, maybe I’ll run a little and walk a little. After a few rounds of running and walking, I hit the 1-mile marker. Really? Only a mile?? Maybe they hadn’t measured that one very well. Maybe I should have gone to the bathroom before I ran. But it’s only 5 miles. I’ll be fine.

As the run course went past the park area, I took one more look at the bathrooms. These were clean. I don’t want to stop at a porta potty. But, no, I’ll be fine, I thought. It’s less than 4 more miles. By this time, my cycles of running were becoming shorter, and walking was becoming longer. I was saving my legs for the last 2 miles.

There were people handing out water and more Gatorade. Kelsey had told me to stay hydrated, so I took both. At least I tried to. An issue with my spine makes it difficult for me to grab things with my right hand, so that first cup of Gatorade ended up spilling down my front. The volunteers handed me another. I drank the Gatorade and most of the water. I was sure there’d be another bathroom. I poured the rest of my water down my shoulders to cool down. I was hot. That hat would have been nice to have.

In triathlon, even though it’s a race, everyone is very supportive. The racers and staff and volunteers all want to see you accomplish your goals. My friend Nanc was volunteering by holding back traffic at an intersection. I made sure that I was running when I passed her. She called out to me, “Good job, Deborah.” I waved at her happily, appreciating her encouragement. As soon as I’d passed by, I was back to a walk. I was saving my legs for that last mile.

It’s amazing how much farther each mile looks on hills and dirt than it does in my neighborhood. Fewer and fewer people were behind me know. I wondered a couple times if there was anyone at all. I kept going, thinking that right around the corner, it would get easier and that maybe there’d be a portapotty.

Finally, I reach the last turnaround. There was Mark Davis, a TBF staffer cheering me on. He recognized me with “You’re Kelsey’s person” and followed along for several yards while detailing the remainder of the course. There was Nanc again. Waving and encouraging. I did not bother to smile or pretend to run. I waved back, but not the friendly kind of wave. I was saving my legs and my energy for the last ½ mile.

At last the bumpy trail smoothed out, and soon I was on the straightaway, the parking lot. This I should be able to run. But here was the bathroom. Yes! I would make a stop at the bathroom and then run the rest of the way in.

And so I did. The announcer said my name, and my husband and Kelsey and Kirby were all there waiting for me. And so was the medic. Apparently, I did not look too good when I got there, but I cooled down quickly. Kirby had finished a full 30 minutes before me. But he’s Kirby.

And so ended my first and ONLY triathlon. I finished. I was not last. But so many of my friends have offered their congratulations. People are talking about my accomplishment. I was congratulated again on Monday at the gym.

I’ll need to start running.

My Support Crew

Look at the people around you at your next race. You will see a teacher, a doctor, a firefighter, student, a salesman, a cashier, a lifelong athlete, first-time athlete, a single parent, a grandparent, a veteran, a cancer survivor, someone with a chronic illness, someone grief-stricken with loss of a loved one, a mom, a dad, a brother, a sister. The list goes on and on. Who do you really see? Your support crew. Your triathlon family. Everyone you see around you getting ready for this race has a different story. Everyone has a different background. Everyone is trying to get to the finish line. We're all in this race together.

One of the things that I absolutely love about triathlon, and the endurance community in general, is the people, the spirit, and the camaraderie. Athletes are always so supportive of each other. Triathlon is a great way to meet incredible people and amazing friends. When athletes pass each other, you will always hear "good job," or "keep up the good work," "looking good," etc. When athletes have flats, mechanicals, injuries, or whatever, there will always be other athletes and support asking to help.

I have been fortunate to have experienced a lot of these positives in my life. Being diagnosed with any chronic illness is life changing. I have always been the type of person who thought that I could control everything. I have learned that I can't. I felt so isolated- as if no one could possibly know what I was going through. I felt guilty for being an inconvenience. I felt guilty for not following through with my dreams in triathlon and school. I felt guilty for being slow with my responsibilities and school work. I convinced myself that I must have done something wrong in my life, and I even asked my mom if I killed a box of puppies or something terrible when I was a kid. I knew that it somehow had to be my fault. I felt worthless. I felt like a failure. I kept wondering if all of this was real or if I was imagining the whole thing (Parts of the manifestations of the 5 stages of grief...)

Ulcerative Colitis is one of those things that a lot of people don't like to talk about because a lot of the symptoms are embarrassing or taboo to talk about socially. It is something that others cannot see on the outside, so many people decide to hide how they feel. If it weren't for already having this blog, I probably would not have talked about my disease either. But I've already shared a lot about my triathlon journey, and health is most definitely relevant to triathlon.

Looking back on the past year and a half, I have come to realize that I am incredibly lucky to have such a great support system. My family is going through this just as much as I am. They can't feel the physical pain, but they see it. They can feel the emotional pain. They've been there for me to take care of me. Whenever I have shared or talked about my experiences with friends, they've all been there for me. I was really excited to be able to represent my new (starting in 2015) sponsor Rudy Project at USAT Nationals last year. I was looking forward to meeting them in person at their booth at the race expo because they have been so nice to me. When I realized that I could not go to Nationals because I was sick, I dreaded making the phone call because I felt guilty for not being there when Rudy Project has been so great to me and fun to represent (with fabulous sunglasses and helmets). When I talked to them, they told me to take care of my health first. It is truly amazing to be able to work with such a great company and to know that they are supportive. 

I just wanted to take the time to say thank you to everyone who has been there for me. Thank you to my family and friends who have taken care of me. Thank you for giving me injections (because I don't like needles). Thank you for driving me around when I needed help. Thank you for listening to and reading about all of my goings on. Thank you for learning about ulcerative colitis and asking questions about what I'm dealing with. Thank you for sharing your class notes. Thank you for feeding my cat and taking care of my tree. Thank you for welcoming me with open arms when I am training or hanging out (special shoutout to my Total Intensity Sports peeps). Thank you to Rudy Project for your support (I will race again! Hopefully in the next couple of months!) Thank you to everyone who has stepped up for me. I am so grateful that I have all of you in my life.

I think there is an innate fear when you are perceived as "different" or going through a rough patch. I felt terrible things about myself because I was sick. No one else did. I was the one who was not feeling supportive of me. I was the one judging myself. All of you have been on my side. I know that I have not given up on my dreams. They are still there waiting for me. And I will keep going.

When you do sign up for your next triathlon (or really with anything you're doing), just remember: you are not alone. Everyone around you has dealt with some kind of challenge. Everyone you see around you is on your team. You will get to the finish line. Just keep swimming like Dory says. I feel as if this is an appropriate place to end how Ellen Degeneres finishes each show: Be kind to one another.

Oh, and just to add an extra note: don't take life for granted. I know it sounds cheesy in writing, but you really never know when your life is going to change. Find something that you enjoy. Find your dream job. Join a new club. Challenge yourself. If you've never done a triathlon before, go do one. It's fun. And like I said, the people are great.

World IBD Awareness Day

This is not my normal type of post, but today is World IBD Awareness Day. So I'm going to make you all aware. A lot of this is very personal and typically considered TMI in society, but whatever. I've been pretty open already because it has affected my life and training so much. Most of the information here is what I've read over the past year and my own personal experiences. There is a lot of good information at www.ccfa.org, Please bear in mind, this is a blog, not a lit review or scientific paper.

IBD stands for Inflammatory Bowel Disease, which includes Crohn's Disease and Ulcerative Colitis. IBD is essentially an auto-immune disease in the gut that is caused by a combination of factors including genetics, environment, and microbiota in the gut. The exact cause is unknown. The two diseases differ in that Chron's can affect the entire gastrointestinal tract, but Ulcerative Colitis is found in the colon and rectum. These disease are quite serious. It's not just "going to the bathroom" more than normal. If left untreated, it can be fatal. The symptoms can range in severity, and people have different responses to treatment, so experiences with the disease may be very different.

My symptoms began in January 2015 (although there were some issues a few months before that that resolved and I chalked it up to a stomach bug...). I was going to the bathroom way too many times and not having normal, formed stool. I assumed it was stress because of crazy school things that I'm not going into detail in, so I ignored it for a month. When I started noticing occasional blood, that's when I knew I had to go get it checked out. I saw my PA, who was great. She ran through a bunch of tests (celiac, parasites, communicable GI diseases, and an occult blood test). Everything was negative except the occult blood. So I repeated that and it was again positive. She immediately got me a referral to a gastroenterologist. During this time, I started experiencing cramping, but it seemed to be directly correlated with the intensity of my workouts. I had to stop several times when the pain got bad. Even during our trip to Disneyland, the pain was increasing and we were just going from one bathroom to the next in between rides. I had a colonoscopy and was diagnosed with Ulcerative colitis.

So I've pretty much shared how my triathlon season was affected by this already. The month before Nationals, I was really sick, but I kept trying to convince myself that I was fine. We had already been trying anti-inflammatory medications (mesalamine) in various forms (enema, suppository, oral) with zero improvement. Symptomatically I was getting worse. We tried a couple doses of Prednisone and Flagyl (that stuff is horrid) to no avail. I was bleeding a lot and going to the bathroom a lot and the pain was unbearable most of the time (my parents took me to the ER 3 times before I moved). I kept trying to train and convince myself that I was fine. I wanted to go to Nationals. I wasn't fine, and deep down, I knew it. The week before Nationals, we decided to try IV steroids, which meant staying in the hospital. I was devastated.

I still wasn't improving, so we went tried a biologic, Simponi (this one is a TNFalpha blocker). Two months after the hospital stay, I was still getting worse and began vomiting a lot. This led to more ER visits. I had C. diff. Apparently Ulcerative Colitis makes you more prone to C. diff. That plus hospitals and steroids are like the perfect storm. Still no improvement, so we tried a different biologic. C. diff. is a terrible bacteria that us becoming increasingly antibiotic resistant. For me, it caused nausea and pain so severe that I wished I were dead.

And then, C. diff again. I knew right away when I almost passed out in the shower after vomiting a lot at school. I was in so much pain I crawled to bed and my parents made me call an ambulance. No one even believed me (except my parents) when I said it felt like the last time I had C. diff. I ended up going to the ER twice the week before practicals and tests at the end of the semester. My GI put me on antibiotics pretty much right away just in case while we awaited results (another positive). It took a month to start to feel better. I got a rescue cat, Briar Rose, but she really rescued me. She knows when I don't feel well. She's a snuggler. A few months later, I had C. diff for a third time. My dad put the camping mattress in the bathroom for me to sleep on with my cat.

We made the decision to do a fecal transplant to prevent C. diff from coming back. I had to drive all the way to Reno from Sacramento (and mommy had to drive me the day of the procedure). The good news is, I feel so much better already. The bad news is, a lot of my symptoms are still there. The pain has reduced to just occasional cramping rather than lying on the floor curled up in a ball. So I'm thankful for that. I've also been able to start training more and even worked up to a 50 mile bike ride! But the reality is, with symptoms still having a major negative impact, that means that the current biologic treatment has not been successful, so now we have to try something else. I'm going to take the victories that I can, and I'm planning on racing next month at Folsom International and/or Tri for Real #2. After all that has happened, I know that I'm not as fast as I used to be. Speed isn't the point triathlon. Accomplishing new goals is the point. And having fun. That's always the point.

Oh and of course, IBD doesn't just affect the patient. It affects family. It affects friends. It affects everyone. So thank you to everyone who has been supportive. Especially to my parents who have been there every step of the way.

Now you're all aware.

This hill is steeper than it used to be

Those were my thoughts as I was climbing one of the hills on the River Mountain Trail. No one else was around. Not even a roadrunner was in sight in the surrounding dusty hills.  From the empty parking lot, there was not much of a warm-up before hitting the hill. My lungs were already burning and my heart was pounding only five minutes into my ride as I started to climb. The last time I had been on this trail was at the end of July as I was preparing for Nationals. I was at least thankful for the 70 degree January day as opposed to the 110 degree July heat.

Last year, after not being able to go to Nationals, I kept thinking I would be able to race at Silverman 70.3 and salvage my season. That turned out to not be a possibility. After weeks of nausea, vomiting, and a lost appetite I found out that I had C. diff (which is apparently common with UC, especially with the treatments I've been on). My parents took turns coming to take care of me and trying to get me to school as much as possible. I had to let the season go. When I eventually got over that, I ended up having a relapse a month later and was basically knocked out the rest of the year when I wanted nothing more than to start off-season strength training. Even walking around the block was a challenge.

Starting to train from nothing is a lot harder than staying in shape and keeping up with a routine (remember that if you are falling off the wagon). I have fallen so far from where I was. Every time I think about what I'm not able to do it's hard not to cry. When I swim, it is difficult to hold back tears, but I don't want to fog up my goggles. I'm frustrated that I'm not where I used to be and worried about the unknown. I need to focus on climbing back up, not on falling down. I need to congratulate myself each time I make it a little further, or a little faster. Personally, I like to celebrate with cookies. And I still reward myself with a quarter in my Kona jar because every workout counts.

The trick to starting a new workout routine, or coming back from illness or injury is really learning how to balance everything. You need to push yourself while not overdoing it. My very first workout this year was an 18 minute swim. I was tired after the first few minutes, but I was able to keep pushing. I was done at 18. There is a difference between "tired" and "done" and "oh no, I did too much." Each time you can make it to "done," you know that you are getting stronger and faster, and your endurance is building. Every time your workouts improve, you should acknowledge it. Be proud of what you can do and how far you've come. Eventually, you will get to where you want to be.

I have had to make a lot of adjustments, which is not an easy task for someone who likes to plan everything. Coach told me last season that it is okay to deviate from my schedule. Go hard on the days that you can, and take it easier when your body is telling you to. There are still a lot of unknowns. I'm going to do what I can, and that's really all that I can ask of myself.