Briar Rose in Memoriam

"Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart," Winnie the Pooh. I don't think there are any words that could better summarize my feelings toward the loss of my beloved cat Briar Rose. I know this is probably not a normal "triathlon" blog post, but it's my blog and I can do what I want. It's kind of cathartic. It's just a reminder that we are human and we all have love and lives outside of triathlon. Allow yourself grace and room to just feel.

I adopted Briar Rose January 8, 2016 at the start of my second semester of medical school. She had just arrived on the adoption floor at PetSmart that very day that I was looking for a friend from Clark County Animal Control. She had not even had enough time there to be named. I was very broken already when I adopted this nameless, tiny, 4-year-old Siamese cat. I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis less than a year earlier, I had c. diff multiple times my first semester. And a professor broke my foot in class just a few months prior. Basically I was sick and in pain and I needed some love.

As soon as I brought my new, little kitty home and sat on the couch, she curled up in my lap and purred- an unusual occurrence for a new, pet. It usually takes days, weeks, or even months for a fur friend to acclimate to a new environment. But she seemed to know right away that I was hers and she was mine. The next day, we decided on the name Briar Rose for my little princess. My beautiful Sleeping Beauty.

Briar followed me around the house everywhere I went. If I was sitting, she was in my lap. If I was sleeping or lying down, she would curl up in the crook of my arm with her sweet little head resting on me. And if I was in the bathroom sick, well, there she was, purring away to try to make me better.

The guilt part of the emotional processing is so real and strong. From a logical viewpoint, I know that we did everything we could for Briar Rose, but from the emotional viewpoint, I can't help but second-guess every decision. How is it that she saved me, but I couldn't do the same for her?

I noticed in the first year or so that Briar would randomly lose and then regain weight. She was a pretty small cat, so the weight loss was noticeable when there's not much there to begin with. I took her to the vet a few times for labs and weigh-ins, but everything was normal. There were zero signs or symptoms other than randomly losing weight. The vet mentioned Inflammatory Bowel Disease as a possible differential diagnosis, but we had no information to really follow up on it. For cats, a confirmatory diagnosis would require invasive surgery, and why do that from a financial or quality of life standpoint for a wild goose chase? Those intrusive thoughts keep coming back: "you knew all along." And deep down, I just did. One of Briar's vets told me that even if we had known sooner, it wouldn't have changed our treatment course. But, still, what if we had?

So we continued on the next several years, getting a Master's Degree after leaving medical school
with my cat by my side the whole time. She knew when I wasn't feeling well and even started alerting me when I had future c. diff infections. I definitely told one of my doctors that "my cat said the c. diff is back." He ordered a test, despite looking at me as if I were crazy. The cat was right. She was always right.

Two days after my dog, Raja, had an emergency surgery from an obstruction, I noticed Briar was sitting on the floor, just kind of staring off into space. That obviously was not normal for her, but didn't alarm me as much as I guess it should have. I thought she was sad about her doggy sister or just had a little bug. I took her to the vet first thing in the morning and dropped her off for an urgent appointment. Imagine my surprise when they called and told me to come pick up my cat for acute kidney failure and rush her to the kitty hospital. She was there for 3 nights and we didn't know if she was going to make it. She pulled through and we took her home, with the plan to do subcutaneous fluids every night for the next two weeks. The vet did say that she had inflammation of her intestine. It could be cancer or it could be IBD (there it was again). Did that cause the kidney disease? Did we miss something? What could you even do if you had that diagnosis definitively? Not much.

Briar Rose was in excellent health for quite some time when we finished her fluid regimen, tapering the frequency with the increase in fighting (assuming that was the sign for improvement haha). And she had no remaining kidney symptoms for probably close to a year. No GI symptoms. So we carried on, doing her regular checkups and asking to pay careful attention to kidneys. Of course, that eventually lead us to the dreaded Chronic Kidney Disease, which we knew would come eventually. So we switched to the kidney diet and everything was stable again. She weighed slightly less, but she otherwise was healthy. And then we started getting to the dehydrated stages of the vet visits, doing fluids, and some more frequent visits, but otherwise she was good again.

Briar truly saved me last year. I can't go into details, but I almost lost my life last year. I was so sick, couldn't get my medication because of insurance issues, and that was the last line of medication available. I had no where to go. I had lost hope at the possibility of getting better. If you haven't experienced this type of pain, it is impossible to even imagine. Unrelenting abdominal pain that was so bad that if you didn't have that IBD diagnosis already, you would be calling an ambulance. But this was nonstop, unrelenting pain that had me frequently curled up in the fetal position. The vomiting and bloody diarrhea was just miserable. I was so sick that I couldn't shower after vomiting in the shower, so I was just gross. I couldn't walk my dogs. I could barely even clean the vomit off of the living room floor. It was such a tortured existence that I was very close to ending it. But there was my cat. Right next to me, purring away. And what would that do to her? Where would she be? Briar Rose is literally the reason I'm still here. She's the reason I had to fight. She saved me. Her little purr box was going constantly.

A few months ago I noticed that she was not snuggling as much as normal. I didn't think much of it at first, because she is a cat, but then I realized that this was not normal for her. Back to the vet we went. I felt a little stupid for saying "my cat needs to be seen because she's not snuggly." Most people would think, "um, yeah, she's a cat." But my vet understood. It, unfortunately, turned out to be some dehydration and more weight loss. We got her back on some fluids, followed back up, and I thought she was improving. So I went to my race in Lake Placid. Now there's more guilt. What if I hadn't gone? Would she have declined after I got home? But she was doing better! But was it my fault? The thoughts that just come with the whole process are terrible.

And then we had the first bigger sign that something was very wrong- high WBCs. Maybe an infection? She seemed to be improving, but not much. More fluids. And still high WBCs. Switch antibiotic. And then declining some more. But where do we go? There were some signs of improvement and some signs of decline. It was up and down every day. The eating became reduced day-by-day. She would eat more on days that I cooked her special meals- chicken, steak, pork, until she didn't. It was too much for her. She fought and fought, but these two diseases were just too much for her little body.

I miss her every day. I know the pain will ease with time. But right now, when I come home, I'm still half-expecting to see her sitting by the door waiting for me. When the vacuum comes by my room, out of the corner of the eye, I think it's the little cat running by. There are no more purrs. No more chasing ping pong balls at 3 AM. But I have a lifetime of memories. I'll love you forever, Briar Rose. There is no more pain at the rainbow bridge. And all the little steak you can want.

Ironman Lake Placid 2023

I teared up as I walked into Ironman Village inside the Olympic Speed Skating Oval in Lake Placid- The place where Dr. Eric Heiden famously won 5 Olympic Gold Medals. Right next door was the home of the Miracle on Ice. The peaks of the Adirondacks made a gorgeous background. This is where transition was set up. This is where we were going to cross the finish line in just a couple of days. Where legends were made. Ironman Lake Placid is considered to be Ironman royalty. We had 3 Team Challenge athletes out there, and one of my local Gainesville teammates.

When I first signed up for Ironman Lake Placid, I picked this race due to the timing and the extra 100 Kona slots. I've been wanting to race in Kona since I was a kid. As we progressed, I unfortunately was not able to do as much as I wanted  with the Ulcerative Colitis. I struggled with GI issues at Gulf Coast 70.3. After that race, I worked with my medical team to make some tweaks to medications for potential side effects. Those changes helped right away. Unfortunately, one of those changes was stopping the medication that I took for Complex Regional Pain Syndrome in my foot. I did start to have issues with that pretty quickly (CRPS is basically when the nerves go haywire and send pain signals that are not proportional to the injury and can continue even after the injury has healed. To me it feels like someone took a knife out of a fire and is stabbing repeatedly. Even the slightest touch, like a bed sheet, for example, can cause excruciating pain. When I get running shoes, I have to ask for something supportive that won't touch my foot in that spot. It's a whole thing. The best "treatment" is staying active, if able. A lack of activity can actually make it worse, but it can be hard to convince yourself to do it when it hurts since usually you rest pain. If it does get worse, you can have like a clawing up of your extremities and loss of function). When the foot pain started getting worse, I did try to re-start the medication and had GI problems within just a couple of days. So that answered that question- it did seem to be related. That was my last big training weekend, so I was completely out of commission. I knew I had at least done enough at that point to finish the race, even if it wasn't ideal. And I was a bit nervous that there was now no nerve treatment, but that's life.

Also leading up to the race, my poor princess cat got really sick. Obviously she's my priority because so the extra vet treatments, the extra snuggles, the super fun sub-cutaneous fluids took precedent over everything. Briar Rose took good care of me through the worst of the worst Ulcerative Colitis issues with her snuggles and purrs. Getting her better was the only thing that mattered. She is on the mend, thankfully, but will likely be on some form of fluids.

Pre-race bike ride! I got my bike put back together from my flight, and it was not
shifting correctly. TSA took my bike case apart and didn't put it back together correctly and smashed it. Lovely. I was scared of using other options after hearing all of the horror stories of lost bikes at IM California with transport! So it was risk the bike's safety or risk not having a bike anymore. Not good options. Thankfully, the bike shop at Ironman Village got us all fixed up (bent cables). Had to go back the next morning for some additional derailer adjustments. But we got there! Better to know before the race than have shifting issues on a hilly course! During the pre-race swim, I started having foot spasms and it started clawing up, like almost just dragging at that point. None of that was what we wanted before the race.

Race day! I did not sleep well. I had horrible night sweats and actually woke up feeling really thirsty because of it. One of the additional side effects that I get from the Ulcerative Colitis medication. But obviously, that's not what you want prior to an Ironman. If you're that thirsty, that means already behind on fluids, so I had to get back on track before the race. Luckily I was able to, so that ended up not being an issue. One of my Team Challenge teammates, Jeff, and his wife, Kelly, picked me up in the morning. Transition set-up and special needs was pretty smooth. I decided it was kind of cold out and was worried about not having sleeves on the bike. We found some scissors and cut holes in the socks I was wearing. Problem solved- sock sleeves!

It was go time! Jeff and I lined up near each other since I was going to be the end of the 1:00-1:10 swim seed (was aiming for 1:10, so I figured back of that line close to the start of the 1:11-1:20). The cannons went of for the male pros and the female pros started a few minutes after. The crowd was pumped. We were ready. The age-groupers started rolling out. The swim is a skinny rectangle with two loops. One of the unique parts of IM Lake Placid is that the buoys are attached to an under-water cable. If you are on the buoy line, you can watch underwater to make sure you're swimming straight. I found out that this was easier said than done! When you're swimming with 2,300 of your closest friends, there's a lot of jostling around. Even with the rolling start, there are so many people that it's impossible to just stay on the buoy. A few times I tried to catch a draft while staying on the buoy, but that's also really difficult to get in just the right spot without getting kicked in the face. I did catch a bit, which I think really helped conserve some energy, but there were really just too many people all bunched up to stay completely straight without swimming over people. The swim course was 1.2 miles and then you have to get out, go across the timing matt, and get back in for another 1.2 miles. It's so hard doing that because once you're out, you don't want to get back in! But off we went! Once we got to the end of the second lap, it was really congested with everyone bunched up. Some people were finishing and some were starting their second. 1:13:25

1/3 of the activities done and down the blue carpet to transition. I was so amped up from the amazing
crowd and ready to bike. I did take my time transitioning to make sure I had all of my stuff, dried off, etc. The bike course is hilly! The beginning is a couple little rollers. On the very first hill, I started having horrific stabbing abdominal pain. I thought this was going to be an early exit from the race. That was not my plan. I had some pain medication that I grabbed in transition, but I only packed one for the bike, and more on the run. I was not prepared to have issues that early. I got off my bike at the top of the hill, took the meds, and had to try to relax. While I used to be a really strong climber before IBD, I know that for some reason when my heart rate starts getting up, I start to have pain. I think this was probably a combination of the transition excitement and the adrenaline of all of the amazing spectators and volunteers and then the hill. I had to just stop, take a few minutes to calm down, and see if I could try again. Thankfully I was able to get back on my bike, and just made a point to take it really easy on the hills to try to stay in control.

After the first couple of hills, there was one point of Mt. Von Hoevenberg where the bike course took us through the biathlon course. It was incredible. A couple more little hills, beautiful ride along the Ausable River, and then we got ready for the infamous Keene descent. This is a really steep, winding road down to the town of Keene. People fly down this descent. I knew it was going to be intense. My thoughts were running wild. "Be confident. Fear leads to lack of control, which leads to accidents." "I really hope I put my bike back together correctly." "I'm confident that I'm terrified." When I looked at my watch later, I had a max speed of 42 MPH! I know others were even faster, but that was enough for me.

There were some more rolling hills and then one part that went through a more heavily wooded trail. Coming out of that, some more hills, winding through Wilmington, and then a giant climb back to transition. I saw Jeff at one of the aid stations and we chatted a bit and off he went! Doing so well! I made a point to still keep it easy to avoid any more GI issues. Once we got back to town, we had to do it all over again! That was only 56 miles.

I thought I was much stronger on my second lap compared to my first. I wasn't. haha. But at least it felt mostly good until the final climb. That second time was rough. Once I came to transition, the amazing volunteers take the bike back to the rack. Athletes just need to get the transition bag and go back through the tents. My time took longer than I had anticipated. I know I shouldn't have been thinking about that, but I did. This should have been only a celebration of conquering that course. 7:35:44

I was in tears coming through the tent. It was a hard ride. And I still had a full marathon left. I did not want to do it. I took my time getting ready to run, debating about whether I was going to do it, but I had no legitimate reason at that point to stop. I heard the announcer call in the first female pro, Alice Alberts, to the finish. "They're finishing and I still have 5+ hours to go! An entire 26.2 miles." At that point, "Fight Song" came on at the finish line. That song is basically my anthem. I had to get going!

I had a pretty strong start to my run! Most of the first portion was downhill. The spectators and volunteers were amazing. They definitely kept me pumped to keep going! I made a point to walk the hills and the aid stations. The amount of energy spent vs time saved just was not worth it for where I was in my fitness and I also needed to keep that heart rate down. I saw Super Cool Racing Team teammate Andrea, and Team Challenge teammates Sean and Jeff going in the opposite direction as I was headed out. I love racing with teammates! One of the athletes had told me that his mom had Crohn's, so sending all the support to your family, too! That's what we're racing for. Let's find some cures! Coming back from the first lap, we had to go back up that hill we came down. It was a long, steep way. Spectators cheered us on. I was so thankful for all of that support. On to the next lap! 13.1 left to go. I counted down the miles as I went and tried to keep my pace steady. The pros were out on the course riding their bikes and cheering us on. It was so nice of them to have completed that entire race and still stay to support us age-groupers. I could hear the music starting with about 5 miles left and started to get excited. This was it. Final hour. One final climb up the hill. The crowds were incredible. And the finish chute! 5:26:22

Total time: 14:36:25. I had hoped to be between 14 and 15 hours, so I did it! It was also 35 minutes faster than Ironman California just in October! Thank you so much to Coach Skip, my teammates, the volunteers, and the spectators. This wouldn't have been possible without you. Thank you also to everyone who has donated to the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation so far! If anyone wants to learn more about these autoimmune diseases, feel free to ask. My story and donation page are on the link on the right. No Kona yet, so see at a race in a couple years to try again 😁

Gulf Coast 70.3

Gulf Coast 70.3 was probably one of the most difficult races I've ever done. I seriously considered not starting the run. Crossing that finish line took a lot of grit and I didn't know that I had it in me. About 2 weeks before the race, my GI issues started to get worse again (for those who don't know, I have Ulcerative Colitis, an autoimmune disease of the GI tract). I really had to taper back more than planned in the weeks leading up to the race and had to just hope for the best by race day at that point. And this is why I am racing with Team Challenge for the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation. We need some cures!

Panama City Beach is a beautiful city with beach stores, restaurants, and beautiful beaches. It is
definitely a great destination for a race like this with a lot of family-friendly activities. I was excited to be racing with some of my teammates from Gainesville Triathlon Club and Super Cool Bike Team. It was great getting to spend time with new friends! Congratulations on 3rd place AG, Dīna!

Having an ocean swim, means that athletes are at the mercy of mother nature. The only ocean swim I had ever done up to that point was in Mission Bay in San Diego, so it was pretty protected from the rough seas. This race was wide-open ocean, so anything could happen. And it did.

Race morning was pretty standard. Uneventful, which is ideal. There was a long stream of athletes winding from transition to the beach. By the time I got there, the corals were already full, so I just hopped the barrier to my starting time along with a few others. It was recommended that you start at your expected swim time in normal conditions and not to under or overestimate based on what could happen. I lined up in 30-33 minutes, but that was nowhere near the time I ended in. The theory behind swimming in the ocean makes sense- dolphin dive to get past the breakers, don't drink the water, short and quick strokes if it's choppy, and breathe the opposite direction the wind is blowing from, etc. I don't have an ocean in my backyard, though, so theory vs. practice is very different.

The waves were brutal. I did swallow some water trying to get past the breakers. My goal was just to
get past that and then it would be calm. It wasn't. The wind was blowing from the east and the water was choppy. On the way out, I could only breathe to the right (in case anyone was wondering how important it is to know how to bilateral breathe- this is why!). Sting, sting, sting- All over my arms, my face, and inside my sports bra. I couldn't see anything, so I was trying to figure out if I was imagining this or if it was the salt water or whatever. It was about one gazillion tiny jellyfish. Everything hurt. As I kept going I was wondering why I was doing this. Why did I pay money to do this? Why would I voluntarily get into the water with stingy little creatures? I kept moving. Another yellow buoy. Didn't we go far enough though the stingy gauntlet yet? No. Keep going. And then another yellow buoy. Finally, the red turn buoy was in sight. Since this short stretch was now going with the wind, I lengthened my stroke and settled into a good rhythm. But that didn't last. The next red buoy signaled the turn to shore. I couldn't see the buoys very well. I felt as if I had to try to swim diagonally to try not to get blown off course. Finally, the waves started carrying me in. I was so happy to get out of there and go find my bike. 42:35. Remember that 30-33 minutes? Yeah, not quite...

Transition went pretty smoothly, and off we went on the bike. I was having fun now. The wind didn't seem to bad, but it actually kind of felt as if I had a tailwind the whole time. It felt as if I was keeping a pretty good pace. The bike course was mostly flat except for one overpass, but that was more or less it. We road along the coast, and then up toward the forest. It was a pretty ride. At one point in the forest while my mind was wondering, I wondered if there were any bears. About 30 seconds later, I saw a bear-crossing sign, so I guess that answered that question. So basically Florida can be summed up as jellyfish, gators, and bears, oh, my! Part of the course was a bit odd as it wound behind a grocery store, on a little bike path, and then eventually back to the coastal road. I was really happy with how my pace was going, which was definitely going to lead to a 70.3 PR as long as I had a good run. 3:01:33

I grabbed the rest of my nutrition, applied more sunblock (one of the many risks of IBD and the medication is skin issues and easy burning), and put on my running shoes and hat. I was just going to make a quick pit-stop in the porta-potty and then I would be good to crush the run. That's not what happened. I got stuck in the porta-potty with a sudden onset of GI issues. I think I lost so many fluids and then just being in the nasty-roasting potty, I got dizzy. I was nauseous and starting to have pain. I did not want to run. I was done. I just could not fathom 13.1 miles at that point. Another athlete saw me and told me she was stopping and recommended that I stop, too. I thought about it. I just spent 1.2 miles swimming through stingy jellyfish. Would that be all for nothing? I knew my friends and family were tracking me online, too. While I knew no one would blame me if I stopped, it did feel motivating that I had so much support behind me. I thought about everything I overcame last year to complete an Ironman, as well as the years before that. Just one foot in front of the other. Run, walk, or crawl!

I made my way walking out of transition and then walked up the steep overpass. The run course was spectator-friendly consisting of 3 loops. Once I got down the other side, I started running a bit. The next two miles, I did a combination of walking an running and had a tough time getting going. One spectator was on a bike and started cheering me on. I was not feeling great at that point, but the cheering helped. It was hot. I was starting to get nauseous and vomited. Thankfully, I had pain meds and Zofran with me, so I took those and kept going. I took ice at every aid station to keep me cool, putting some in my hat and some in my shirt). Once that kicked in about 3 miles in, I was able to run the next 7 miles. I was getting back on track! I saw the bike guy two more times during that time and he was so supportive! It really helped me mentally having a cheer section! And then it was going back downhill again. Around mile 10, I was definitely starting to bonk. I walked a lot of that mile. At the 11- mile marker, though, I knew I was close and could make it to the end. I started running again and was able to keep going. Bike-guy was there again about 12.5 miles. He told me he was a past Team Challenge athlete. Thank you, for the cheers and support. It helped tremendously when I was ready to stop. The last 1/2 mile, I was so excited when I could hear the crowd and the announcer at the finish line. This was my moment to celebrate. My day that I overcame, I was going to take it all in. I high-fived the crowds coming down the finishing chute and put my hands in the air in celebration. 2:43:05

I didn't quit. Those jellyfish stings weren't for nothing. I was a finisher. I went to the medical tent at this point, though, because I was nauseous again. They let me lie down and iced me down and got me some more Zofran. I got my finisher picture and food! My total time was 11 minutes faster than Augusta 70.3 last year and only 5 minutes off from my PR (pre- Ulcerative Colitis). So considering everything, it was a good finish. 6:39:57. Congratulations to the rest of the athletes that day, too!

Ironman California 2022

"Kelsey Adair from Gainesville, FL, You Are an Ironman!" The words you of triumph from Mike Reilly at the finish line. After more than 7 years of dealing with Ulcerative Colitis, I wasn't sure if I would ever hear those words again, or if it was all just a dream. It was real.

I have been pretty open about this disease, so the previous posts, I think, already covers that pretty well, but how did we get to the point of doing a Couch to Ironman, you may ask? That's a great question, because that is definitely not the normal training plan and not usually recommended. But here's a quick summary. I was hoping to do Ironman California in 2021, but still was pretty sick and ended up deferring (even before the bomb cyclone cancelled it for everyone else). 

I signed up again for 2022, started getting better, and thought we were making it happen. But then everything came to another crashing halt in January. My insurance would not cover my medication (the last one on the market at the time) and I got really sick. Nausea, vomiting, bleeding, diarrhea, pain to the point that I could barely move, etc. Since it was the last medication, we were even in discussion about the possibility of having to have my colon removed because of it. The pure torture of the disease seemed insurmountable. Luckily, a new medication, Rinvoq from Abbvie, just came on the market. The insurance denied that, too, and I had to still wait for a few more months. Abbvie, thankfully, has a program to provide Rinvoq to patients in this exact situation, so they gave it to me. I got better immediately. And that's where Couch to Ironman was born. I only had three months left and decided to just start training and see how far I can get, taking extra precaution to listen to my body by slowing down when I needed to, taking rest days as needed, and even stopping if I needed. No injuries permitted.

I was so excited to be going to Sacramento for Ironman California, back "home" to race with my friends. The race week was a whirlwind. I got my race swag, got Mike Reilly's autograph, and was stoked for the race. Training back on the bike trail was so nostalgic. The pre-race ceremony was really special to get us all ready. I met up with some of my former Total Intensity Sports teammates and was ready to start packing the gear! Racking the bike in the River Cats stadium was a sight, for sure!

Race morning! 3:45 AM wake-up, get ready, and off we go! Once we got to the stadium and parked, we had to do our gear drop-offs, which consisted of the bike and run special needs bags. Then we had to wind our way through the stadium and to the bike to drop off the run bag at our bikes and make sure our tires were all pumped and ready to go. After that, we had to go back out through the stadium and line up at the shuttles. The shuttle line was incredibly long and it did not look as if the line was going to be making it to the race at the 7AM start time for the 60minute swim wave. The group behind me decided to take their chances and drive and offered me a ride to go with them. I accepted and off we went. I know that was a risky move, but I wouldn't have made the wave that I was planning on being in had I not gone. Thank you!! Apparently buses were getting lost downtown, and there simply were not enough for the number of people needing transport. This is already one of the areas that Ironman has promised to improve next year (Inaugural Race hiccups). From the car to the swim, I was curious about how far we had walked already, and saw that we were already over 5000 steps. That's two miles and we hadn't even started yet!

Photo Credit: Jimbo Nguyen

At swim start, I only had about 10 minutes for the bathroom stop and donning the wetsuit. I ended up meeting Tom, a fellow Team Challenge Alumni athlete and we finished prepping. I ran over and squeezed my way to the 60 minute start shoot just a couple minutes before the cannon went off to start the race. Teresa and Mark spotted me in line! It was great to see friends before the race. Once the race started, swimmers went through the starting matt 5 at a time at 5 second intervals. This is supposed to help keep athletes safer in the water to swim with similarly-paced people rather than a mass-start or age-group waves where people have differing abilities. Once I was in at 7:04, I followed the athletes in front of me to the first buoy across the American River. From there, it was a downstream swim. I thought I had a pretty good, but not too fast, pace going, but I could have sworn the buoys weren't straight! I kept trying to stay on the buoy line, but it seemed as if I was zig-zagging. My sighting couldn't have been that off! What was happening? I later heard that some of the buoys did not stay put, so that makes more sense haha. After about 1.2 miles, the American River flows into the Sacramento River. I could see and feel the current as soon as I breached the Sacramento River. All of a sudden I could hear kayakers yelling to go right. I had no idea what they were pointing to at first, but that current was already starting to take us. I tried to go right as much as I could as I made my way across the river, and then I spotted what they were talking about: the orange turn-buoy. We had to go around it. It was upstream/across the river at this point. That river is fast! And in case you didn't know, the Sacramento River is not the type of river that people normally just swim across like that. But here we were, going against the current and across the river to try to get to that buoy. As I was getting close to it, I was struggling pretty hard. Once I was there, I thought I was going to get clotheslined trying to turn around it! I temporarily was wondering if this is where it ends, right here at the buoy. I really needed to calm down. Panicking is how accidents happen. Just breathe. Calm. I made my way around the buoy and looked down river trying to spot the next buoy. I didn't see any after that, so I just aimed for the bridges. First the train bridge and then the Tower Bridge where the exit was going to be. I made it to the ramp, and the volunteers helped me climb out without slipping. 53:17

I made my way up the dock, careful not to slip and up the walkway to the street. It was over a mile from the river into the stadium. My feet were on fire. It was cold and walking on cement with cold, wet feet was painful. Every step hurt. I just wanted to dry off and put some socks on so badly. I saw my friends Jimbo and Sheila cheering and that really made me pumped to keep going. I dried off more than I normally do in the changing tent because I didn't want to bike while wet and that cold. After making my way to the bike, I put on sock sleeves (thanks to Jenny's recommendation so I can throw the socks out when it gets a warmer). And off we went on the bike. Transition time 24:12 (it was so long!)

The bike ride was brutal overall. 20+ mph sustained winds with 30-40 mph gusts. I thought the first part of the bike was fantastic! I was making pretty good time. It was windy, but I was going with the wind for the first little bit. Nice and speedy. When the course turned slightly, though, the crosswinds/diagonal winds were brutal. Right before the bad road section when we turned, I almost got blown over by a crosswind. It was scary! All I could do is hold on for dear life at that point and be very careful. I wished I had done more core work in training haha. Too late for that! When I got to the turnaround, it was brutal. Straight headwind. The speed decreased substantially and it was a struggle. I slowly made my way back to the end of the first lap, getting a boost from the crowd. I couldn't find where my Gu was in my pocket, so I was starting to get worried. Did they fall? What happened. At that point I had nut butters and a protein bar, but my plan was to switch off.

I wished there were porta-potties at the special needs bag, though. Where were we supposed to re-

Chamois butter? 😐At least I got some more Gus from my special needs, so I would be okay. I found the rest of the "missing" ones that were somehow hiding in the pocket where I couldn't find them lol. How did that happen? The next aid station was close to 70 miles, so that's where the pit stop was. There were not enough bathrooms there. Everyone was probably doing the same thing, so the line took me about 10-15 minutes or so and it was growing behind me. So that was kind of a bummer. More potties! This next portion was not too bad, I just kept going and tried to be careful about the winds. Any time I needed to get a water re-fill, I stopped at the aid stations because I didn't want to take my hands off the bars. I think I would have blown over! At the final turnaround, once I got to the headwinds again, it was so bad that I couldn't even get clipped back in to my pedals. It was "I'm going. Nope, I'm not going. I'm going. No, just kidding. Alright, I can do this." And then I got going slowly. Very slowly. The wind was demoralizing on the way back. I just tried to focus on moving my pedals and staying steady. Prior to the race, I thought I would be able to do about 7 hours on the bike based on how I was training. My time was 7:42. About an extra 30 minutes from the wind and the rest probably from the bathroom line. After that long on the saddle, I was ready to throw away the bike. I took my shoes off as soon as I could and made my way barefoot to the bike racks (another long transition). 19:10. I walked through the stadium. I figured we were already running an entire marathon, there was no reason at that point to run an extra mile through transition lol.

Once I finished going through transition, it was go time! I was fully planning that I would have to walk at some point during the run. I had only made it to 15 miles during training, which was not ideal, but it is what it is. So the plan was to run as far as I could and then walk when I needed to. I far surpassed my expectations on the run, only walking the aid stations and the few short hills. Everything felt pretty good! I saw my friends Jimbo and Sheila cheering on the levy. And then I saw Kevin, my Disney buddy! I'm so glad they were there. It makes such a big difference to get a cheer from friends. About 6 miles or so, I decided to make another pit-stop on the levy porta-potty. The wind was still so strong, that I thought the entire porta-potty was going to blow off the levy with me inside. That would have been a messy way to go. Death by wind-blown porta-potty. Ew. 😵

I survived, so off I go again. The run through the Old Sacramento area was great. So many spectators

cheering. I loved it. It was starting to get dark about this time and I knew we were getting to the American River Bike Trail soon. That part was going to be dark, so I had a light in my special needs bag. I saw some of my Team Challenge teammates on the run, which was fantastic. I love that so many people were racing for an amazing cause with inspiring stories themselves. The bike trail part was very dark. I heard a lot of people didn't really care for that section because it was dark and spooky, but I felt at home. I rode that trail so many times that I knew every turn and could practically follow that trail in my sleep. It was very crowded, though. If anything, that was the most difficult part. A lot of people were walking or bunched up, making it difficult to pass, especially when not everyone had lights on, so it was hard to see others at times. The turn-around was near Cal-Expo, and the then we had another ~6 miles back through to Discovery Park. I spotted my new Team Challenge friend from the morning, Tom, up ahead. We ran together after that for the next 4-5 miles and then parted ways. I went on ahead and just kept going steadily. I still felt strong, even though I didn't trained as much as I planned. The miles weren't fast, but they were ticking away.

Photo Credit: Todd Adair

Once we got close to the capitol, I knew that there was going to be a spot that broke out to two laps based on the course map. The first of those laps, at mile 22, I could hear the finish line and got really excited. My miles started improving because of all of the excitement haha. But there was still another lap left and 4 miles at the end of this is not a joke. I kept on moving and it was a little sad going further away from the finish line until the start of the second lap again. And then more excitement. This was the last lap. 2 miles left. I knew I could do it at this point. Around mile 25, I saw my friend Erika cheering for me and then my Uncle Todd. Just one mile left and then the finish chute. The excitement was building. Once we got to the split of the "1/2 laps and the finish lap" it was hard to describe the feeling going to the "finish." Tom caught back up to me here and we decided to finish the race together. And then Mike Reilly announced our names. The most exhilarated I had felt in such a long time. We did it! 5:52. Total Ironman time: 15 hours and 11 minutes. After everything I had been through, I was now a 2X Ironman. My Couch-to-Ironman was not what I had planned by any stretch of the imagination, but I did it. This was my fight song.

If anyone wants to know more about Crohn's and Colitis, feel free to ask. I think awareness is important and I'm more than happy to share. If anyone wants to still donate to Team Challenge Crohn's and Colitis Foundation, the link is on the right. Thank you everyone for your support. It means the world to me and I couldn't have done this without you.

Ironman Augusta 70.3

Couch to Ironman Race #2  has officially been checked off the list crossing the finish line at Ironman Augusta 70.3 in just under 7 hours. And now we are just a month away from the full Ironman California! I was so excited coming down that finishing chute and hearing my name.

I was so happy to be racing with my new teammates Tiffany and Mark from G3. It was great getting to spend time with them over the week and having friends to cheer on, too!

There were several ups and downs of the race and overall. I'd have to say, I think Augusta is a one and done experience. The very first evening during my run, I got catcalled. Nothing says "welcome" like some sexual harassment and fear. I had nightmares that night and slept horribly. I know all women are especially on edge right now, given recent current events. And it's not the first time I've experienced something like this (I've even had someone do a U-turn and follow me back around after catcalling me before!). Everyone who is training should be using some kind of tracker and sending their locations to a loved one when they are out and about, especially you're on a trail, or in the dark. You can use Garmin or Strava, or other options. The one thing that I think these trackers all really need to improve is the tracking ability while you don't have your phone with you (Please take note, because this is a serious issue for us! These need to be live at all times!). It's better than nothing, but I think a lot of us don't run with phones. I've started running with my dogs, but they can't go as far as the long distance training runs! I guess we could get more dogs...

Had some great food at Boll Weevil and some delicious cake. All of the important stops. If you do go to Augusta, make sure you stop there.

Anyway, I met some amazing new race friends from Puerto Rico, Manny and Cynthia, in my motel Lobby getting breakfast. We were going to try to do a practice swim, but race rules prohibited it. Oh, well. We did a little bike and Cynthia did a run. Manny taught me the secrets of how to properly put on a wetsuit with a trash bag! It turns out that you don't actually have to struggle for 15 minutes trying to put it on and risk fingernail pokes. You just put the bag on each extremity and then through the suit and it glides right through!!

I later caught up with Mark for bike check in and then to spend some time checking out Augusta with him and his peeps. We stumbled upon the History Museum and it was a great find! Highly recommend.

Race prep time!! I ended up having to go to South Carolina to the closest grocery store (where do Augustans eat???) To grab some pre-race breakfast since obviously nothing is open at 4:30 AM on race day. Food desert much? Not even CVS had milk or bagels or anything.

And now it's time! Early up and at 'em. I almost forgot to pack my race fuel, but luckily remembered before I left the room. Got the transition set-up smoothly. Excited to see Tiffany in the area just a few racks away. And time to get in line for the shuttle back to swim start! I saw a woman wearing a "Boone" shirt and then thought, "oh, shit, I can't believe my soccer team from Appalachian State is here???" How random is that??? She recognized me too, and asked if we used to play together and actually genuinely seemed excited and wanted to take a group photo with us. They were doing the relay together. I was completely traumatized. Not by them, mind you (although I do have a scar on my face from her, but I don't blame her at all), but the memories that this brought up. See, we were abused physically and emotionally by our coach, Ben Popoola. For example, he forced me to act like a piece of equipment during a drill while another goalkeeper had to dive over me, resulting in me being repeatedly kicked in the ribs. She had begged him to stop because she knew she was hurting me, but he said, "don't worry about her." It took over a month for the bruised ribs to heal. Chancellor Peacock knew what was happening. Charlie Cobb, the athletic director, knew what was happening. His wife, Lindsay Cobb, the goalkeeper coach, knew what was happening. They all encouraged it and allowed it to continue until Ben Popoola finally did the unthinkable to one of my teammates, at which time he was finally removed while the quietly swept it under the rug. We all knew he was dangerous. We tried to get help. And they all allowed him to continue to groom and destroy us. Like I said, it was not and never was my teammates' fault. I don't blame them and I don't even know the full extent of each of their own experiences while on the team. I just never in a million years expected to see any of them again, let alone a group of us doing triathlon and the same random race together??? Emotional damage. I almost transferred over this, even ready to go at a new school's orientation. That was when I realized that I had a great support system at App with a great department, Pre-med program, and friends, and ended up staying... I had such a hard time refocusing after this. It completely shook me to my core like you could not even believe. I could not get it out of my head the entire swim and bike, not matter how much I tried to just focus on the race at hand. I just wanted even more to prove that I had won. I'm not being beaten down by a monster anymore. And I knew that my same great support system was still cheering me on remotely. Every time I crossed a timing matt, I yelled, "Beep" out loud, just as a reminder that everyone at home could see those check-in times and was still supporting me. I know I still have support at home, and those timing matts are always a reminder. And yes, sound effects are always necessary.

Anyway, race time was here and it was now or never. This race is 1.2 miles down the Savannah River. It's a rolling start based on projected swim time, so you seed yourself into your group and they start 3 swimmers at a time every 5 seconds. I started at 30-35 minute group. I was almost right on with my guess with a swim time just barely under 30 minutes! The water was a good temperature, but I wanted to practice with my wetsuit to get prepared for IMCA since that will be 🥶. It was a good swim with decent sighting, but my goggles are definitely ready to be retired. They were foggy and I could not see anything looking into the sun!

And out of the water to the wetsuit strippers, through transition to the bike! 56 miles is a long way. 😆 Augusta has some rolling hills and a few of them were long climbs. There aren't many to practice on in Gainesville, but I did practice simulations with my trainer, so it wasn't too bad. The one tricky part during races is being conscientious of drafting rules on hills. If you get into someone's "draft" zone, you have to pass them. And if there is a line of people and you pass one, that likely puts you into the draft zone of the next person. So if you're planning on passing, you have to plan to essentially book it past a bunch of people or risk the penalty tent. I was trying to really focus on my breathing on hills as my gauge. For some reason, if I start breathing too heavily or go to hard, I'll start getting abdominal pain again, so I was not planning on booking it on any hills. Just steady. No standing. Low gear to the top, and then catch everyone back down haha. It got me through and with a decent pace considering the hills. The roads were not in great condition, honestly, which was kind of scary in some spots. By the time I made I braked coming into transition, Screeeeaaaaach. My brakes were gone. Bye-bye. At least that was the end. I found out later it was a combination of Gu/Gatorade from the road conditions and that I actually ended up losing a screw from my water bottle cage! So, it's just a sticky wheel, after all and a close call with almost being down a water bottle and cage. That last downhill where the spray painted all of the messed up spots in the road and basically the entire road was orange marking a the cracks. Loose water bottles from previous cyclists also littered that downhill from the bad road. That was dangerous. Back in safe and sound in about 3 hours and 30 minutes!

And now for the run! To be honest, even a half-marathon is a lot by itself. But now we're doing it after swimming and biking. That's what makes this fun. 😅 I've lost the most of my speed so far with running, so we were just going to be cruising at a steady pace to knock out the miles one-by-one. I just locked in to my roughly 12-minute-per-mile pace and went. The course was spectator-friendly. And then 🚂🚃🚃🚃 about mile 8. That's right. We got stopped by a train. Trains don't stop for races (or anything). But that was a drag, for sure. There was a race official who took down our numbers and we did our best to keep stretching and not get tight. We all just started chatting and stuff. Then the train stopped aahhhh. Can't it see we're racing!? Move! After about 10 minutes, it finally was clear and we were on our way again, like a big cross country meet running into that next aid station, and it was honestly really hard to get moving again. Everything was

tight after that. My miles dropped to like 13.5 minute pace after that. Just keep on moving. Counting down those miles. When I got to mile 12, there was a 10- mile marker sign. I kind of panicked, but my watch very clearly said 12 and I knew the finish was close. That was cruel. Just keep moving. The finish is getting closer. Smiling, smiling 🥲  😁. There's the chute and the finish line! I did it!

After resting a bit and finally going to get my morning gear bag, I started to make my way over to the shuttle area. That is when I met fellow Team Challenge athlete, Kelli, who is racing for Crohn's and Colitis Foundation, too! Her race is the New York Marathon! Yay teammates! Kelli is such an amazing and inspirational athlete. Let's get those cures!

And now that leaves us with the Ironman California in just a few short weeks. We're coming away from this weekend stronger and more confident. It was a tough mental weekend. But we can do this. Anything is Possible. Find your Finish Line.

Cool Summer Mornings #4 International Triathlon

Wow, those emotions when I saw that I made the podium for my Age Group. We had excitement, relief, surprise, pain, confidence, pride, just to name a few.

This year is not at all how I had imagined things would be going. I thought my training was going to be steady training throughout the year, but life (and some other people), unfortunately, had other plans. My insurance decided not to cover my medication at the correct dose, wanting to remove it to force me to "prove" that it was required. This caused 10 cm of GI inflammation to get them their "proof" (apparently the treating doctor's order, notes, expertise, knowledge of my care, etc., weren't enough somehow).

Once that fight was done, and the medication was finally covered, it ended up failing completely. That's a risk they knowingly took with my life by not covering the medication appropriately in the first place. It never worked again. I was incredibly sick and facing a potential colon removal. I couldn't leave my house. I could barely walk my dogs and often had to call a pet sitter for assistance. I couldn't buy groceries. I couldn't even clean my house or mow my lawn and finally had to hire help once it got bad enough that I was having asthma attacks from it.

The lack of appropriate IBD treatment also had the lovely side effect of worsening the Complex Regional Pain Syndrome in my foot. What are the two things that are high risk for CRPS? Stress and inactivity. Well, I was under an incredible amount of stress because my body was now failing, I couldn't get my medication and my life was at risk, and now I could barely move. The CRPS pain became horrifically unbearable and even started spreading for the first time, going up to my knee. It's frightening because spreading means it could have disastrous effects and become completely unmanageable. I had to start going to physical therapy on top of everything else for nerve desensitization treatment (it's about as much fun as it sounds) to retrain the nervous system to not be in pain inappropriately.

Finally a solution! A new medication, Rinvoq, by Abbvie, hit the market! My insurance denied it. Thankfully, though, Abbvie is now covering the medication through their patient assistance program and they have literally saved my life (and my colon!). I started improving almost immediately. It was almost like a switch. I figured with Ironman California already deferred at this point, I might as well tri and see what I can do!

And that brings us to Cool Summer Mornings #4 International Distance! I signed up with my new tri club, G3 in Gainesville and started meeting lots of new friends. Mark and Kevin raced the sprint! It's great having race teammates! Race week was a rough week. I had been having night sweats and then started having aches and insomnia. I finally realized that these are symptoms of withdrawal. I was finally getting better and not needing as much nausea medication in order to eat anymore. Even when you think you're safe, something can sneak up on you! At least this one was am easy fix- just ride it out and be fine, but it was rough.

The two days leading up to the race, a dog emergency! No sleep the night before (don't worry, she'll be fine!!). I left my house at 4:00 AM to get parking and race day had begun! I can't believe I went down there and strained me knee during my warm up! How on earth did I manage that?? aah. I really had to make a hard decision. This was not an important race. How bad was this? How much of this was just nerve pain? I was not going to sacrifice competing today and risk my Ironman. That would be a stupid decision no matter what. I had to see how it felt walking it off and in the water. The first few steps were terrible, but it seemed to loosen up okay, so I was going to tentatively do it with the decision to drop out at the first sign of trouble.

5,4,3,2,1, Goooo and with that we were dashing into the water to start! This was one of the most violently packed swims I've had since Ironman 😂 and it wasn't even THAT crowded! I started mid-pack because, let's face it, I'm not at top race form right now and I'm being realistic here, and this one chick in a USA suit kept trying to swim on top of me from behind the entire first two buoys! At one point it even sounded as if she actually yelled at me to get out of the way (kind of hard to hear out there, but it really sounded like that). Ummm, you aren't actually allowed to drown people in this sport? And if you are coming up from behind in every single sport in existence, you have the duty to go around. Like, what? I was joking about this later and it was pointed out that women are more vicious in this compared to men. I don't know why, but like, come on. We all got out of there alive haha and I guess this just goes to show how important open water swim practices with your buddies really are for these things! Make sure you throw some fists in there to get ready for the real deal (just kidding 😂😂).

The bike time: oh, man this was such a lonely bike. Once I got to the second loop of the course, I was feeling pretty defeated out there. The first loop wasn't bad. We had a lot of people from the sprint catching up to the Olympic race, so there were plenty of people out there. When I got to the second loop, though, it seemed deserted. I thought I was the last one out on the course and was wondering where everyone went. It was so hard mentally. I had a really hard time not thinking about the times that I used to be competing for top spots and now I'm out here struggling and about to be swept from the course. Where did everyone go??? Triathlon is a mental sport just as much as a physical sport, and, as you can tell, the brain likes to wander. It's hard to get these thoughts out and back on track. I really had to get my mind focused on the finish line and kept thinking about the finish lines ahead. Visualize: International, Augusta 70.3, Sacramento 140.6 finish line. Finish line. Keep going.

Back to transition and on the run! People! I found the people! I wasn't last after all! just keep going. Nice and steady. I had a pretty good first 3.1 miles, but it was a really weird weather day. The morning was really cool (to the point that I had worn sweats for the first time that year). By the time the run came around, though, the humidity just hit differently compared to how it had been lately. 🥵 As I was making my toward the turnaround to the second lap, I could see the guy in front of me about to pass out. It was terrifying. Luckily it was in front of an aid station and they could see it coming on, too, so the amazing volunteers were able to get to him before he went down and help prevent him from falling. I really hope he was okay!!! When I rounded the the corner for the second lap, I was definitely on the struggle bus. I had just done 8 miles the weekend before, so I knew I was capable of running this distance, but I have to admit, I had to walk parts of this. That weather just snuck up on the day like that and the abdominal pain kicked in. I did some running/walking after mile 4 to the end and just had to listen to what my body could do the rest of the way, focusing on just forward motion. There's the finish!

I loaded up my car, preparing to go, but checked to see if they got the times worked out just before I left. I was in disbelief that I had made the podium in my age group. 2nd place AG finish.

"I used to be able to run 40 minutes faster than that." BF, "But you almost died and then came back and got 2nd." We all need some perspective sometimes. I'm still here. Still kicking. Coming back to life. Next stop Augusta 70.3 and on to Ironman California!