Thursday, September 18, 2014

Three Things Thursday

1. BRF (best running friend) MacKenna is running her first marathon! I'm so excited for her, and happy to support her and her running cause. She's running in support of Girls on the Run, which is an awesome cause to begin with. I think often how different my life would be if someone introduced me to running at an early age. She has to raise $400 in the next two weeks, and every little bit counts.
Donate here now!

2. I finally got new goggles. After the near-disaster of snapping my goggles at the start of my 140-mile journey to become an Ironman, I was not looking forward to getting back in the water. But, the only way to get better is get back on it, I suppose.


Bees like sprite 
3. My run club had a victory party for me and it was a blast! Most of the club ran 13 miles and I could only muster 10. I walked back to our start point and we barbecued and enjoyed brews ... at 9 a.m. Don't judge! The bees were insane and one stung my face, but it was an otherwise super fun time.

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Cooking with Kelly: The Best Crock Pot Ribs Recipe

As previously stated, crock pot recipes are my kitchen's secret weapon. Throw a bunch of stuff in there and hours later, you've faked dinner. It's nearly foolproof, you can't really burn stuff and all the mess is contained in a single place. So much to love.

Anyhow, ribs were on sale at ALDI recently (related: How to shop at ALDI), and I have my brand-new grill, so I figured why the hell not. Except it was roughly 483 degrees when I wanted to make the ribs and I knew I had to pre-cook them low and slow in the oven to get them tender. And ain't nobody got time for that in the heat of the summer.

Instead, I chopped these ribs up into manageable portions and let them cook low and slow in the crock pot. It's funny, between marinated these in vinegar, letting the rub settle overnight, cooking them in beer in the crock pot and grilling them off with barbecue sauce, this was a 24-hour affair ... that took roughly one hour of actual work. And this, folks, is how I feed five people for $10, with leftovers.
Marvel at my cooking, time management and fiscal prowess. 

Perfect Crock Pot Ribs Recipe
1 rack of baby back ribs
1 cup white vinegar
1/2 can of cheap beer (don't use the Zombie Dust for this one)
Your favorite pork rub, or:
3 tablespoons paprika
1 tablespoon black pepper
1 tablespoon coarse salt
3/4 teaspoon sugar
3/4 teaspoon chili powder
3/4 teaspoon garlic powder
3/4 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon ground cayenne
1 thinly sliced onion
1 bottle barbecue sauce

Trim the fat from the ribs and cut into two- to three-rib portions. Soak in the vinegar for a half hour, the remove and pat dry.

Mix the dry ingredients for the pork rub together or liberally apply your favorite rub to all surfaces of the ribs. Place on a baking sheet and refrigerate uncovered overnight - this helps set the flavors and seal everything in.

In the morning, pour 1/2 of the beer into the bottom of your crock pot. Top with a layer of ribs, and cover those with the onion slices. Repeat the rib-onion layering and top the concoction with the remaining beer. Cook on low for seven hours.



At the end of the crock pot cook time, remove and place on a baking sheet and allow to rest and dry for a half hour.


During that time, preheat your grill to as hot as it goes. Once the ribs are cool, brush with the barbecue sauce liberally.


To finish these off, grill 5 minutes on each side or until a delicious crust forms.

Remove from the grill and cover with more sauce, if any remains, and seal in tinfoil for at least 30 minutes.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Motivation Monday

It's pretty easy to think of could haves and would haves and should haves. Hindsight is a distinctly human trait that gets the best of me at times. Like what would have happened at Ironman Wisconsin if I had fresh goggles, more training and the knowledge to change my own flats?  Conversely, what would have happened with that flat if I wasn't able to make that sharp left at 30 miles an hour? My day could have ended a lot differently.

My goal for this week is to let goal of the second guessing. It is what it is, and fretting over how different choices along the way could have changed my path doesn't change where I sit today.

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Seven Ways I'm Spending Time Without Ironman Training

Have you ever heard of post-race blues? It's a strange little phenomena. When I crossed the finish line of Ironman Wisconsin, I was ecstatic. Absolutely overjoyed that I had 140 miles in me. But then, the week comes. The routine starts again. Except this routine doesn't include three-hour morning trainer rides, lunch time runs and evening pool sessions. Time is not filled with endless laundry, meal prep and eating anything I damn well please. Instead, there's routine and chores and work and repetition. No one cares about your race as much as you do, and after a few days, it feels like it never even happened.  But a busy mind is a happy mind, so here's what I'm doing with my hours these days.

1. Throwing myself into work. My job is very important to me and I'm logging big hours lately.
Work, now with an Ironman bracelet
2. Updating my house. I moved back into my townhouse and am enjoying painting and redecorating the place. Spoiler alert, it's super girly.


Anyone want to see more of my girly style?
3. Processing my divorce. Because that shit is tough. I have some work to do on me.
4. Getting strong. I stopped doing Crossfit when I moved and need to get back into lifting heavy things, squatting deep and moving fast.
5. Running and spinning for fun. I like running and am psyched to not have to go XX miles today at such and such pace. Time to enjoy chatting and going as far as I feel like or time allows.
Spin, spin, spin
6. Being social! It's funny how much opportunity opens up when you're not training twice a day.
Yelp it up

7. Spending time in my kitchen. My meals in the past few weeks have been ridiculous, ugly and random. Time to get serious about eating real food in reasonable amounts at the right times (as in, no oatmeal at 7 p.m. calling it dinner).
All this for me?

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Three Things Thursday

1. The official Ironman photos are out! I might not be 100 percent solid with how I look these days, but no matter. This is what a badass looks likes.


2. I've been in DC for two days for work. Ask me how many monuments I've seen - zero. I went from the airport to the hotel to the airport, from which I'm reporting LIVE. Exciting, right? (No)

3.My parents have been busy back at my townhouse while I was gone hanging shelves and stocking my bar because I'm spoiled and don't have a Costco membership. I now have Costco-sized hard liquor. Who's ready for a party?


Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Post-Ironman Survey of Damage

This post is going to be exceedingly short because a) it's late, b) I'm a tired girl, and c) there's actually very little to report.

"Take us out, Kelly!"
I feel awesome.

I could have ran yesterday night if I wasn't so damn busy at work. I will run tomorrow because I'm getting all sorts of bent out of shape without a little bit of dopamine release in my life.

When I finished Ironman Wisconsin, I was tired (but not exhausted) and sore (but not in pain). Getting up the stairs of our apartment was a struggle, and getting into bed was really hard. I had to work Monday night and shoving my fat little swollen feet into heels was most unpleasant, but I survived. I have a bit of pain behind my knees. It feels a bit like I'm hyperextending them when I stand, then like stretched tight rubber bands when I try to bend them all the way.

I also have a slight amount of sunburn around my bike jersey where it shifted while riding. And the chafing is actually quite minimal. No blisters, and my toenails all appear to be intact.
This counts as jewelry, right?

My mother even told me I looked better at the Ironman than I did after my first marathon. Sunday night I was able to hobble around on my own, hold down food and felt in high enough spirits to laugh and have conversations. I cried happy tears, not ohmygodithurtssomuch tears.

Emotionally, I'm a little mixed up. I'm so overwhelmed that I was able to do this. I'm also over the moon at the outpouring of support I've experienced in the past two weeks. I still pull the medal out of my purse and marvel that I earned it, and used my Ironman backpack as my carry on for this business trip. I haven't cut the security bracelet off yet, either - I still look at it to remind myself this all happened. I'm overjoyed I accomplished this, but feeling a little bit lost, too. Post-race blues are real.

Don't get me wrong, I'd love to take a nap, lounge on the couch, get a sports massage and spend the day at a Korean spa, but alas, life awaits. And I'm ready to tackle it.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

2014 Ironman Wisconsin Race Report

Six-word recap: Rough start, strong finish for Ironbitch
Where do I even start? This race is the culmination of years of work, sacrifice, expense, worry, triumph, tears and turmoil. I had no idea when I squeezed into my wetsuit in the dark Sunday morning if I'd be ending the night with a medal. My life has been filled with unexpected turns. I would have never guessed what my life would look like today when I began this journey.

The journey that ended with a title that will forever be mine: Ironman.

Business item first: The biggest thank you in the world to everyone who made this day possible. Thank you to the random Internet strangers who sent me well wishes. Thank you to my family for driving up and supporting me during the past few months, which have been harder on all of us than I could have ever foreseen. Thank you to my friends for waking up at an ungodly hour to yell at me and run with me and hold goofy signs. Thank you to the volunteers who saved my day more than once.

It takes a village to become an Ironman.

Backing up: Alyssa and I rolled out of our apartment at 5:30 a.m. and walked over to transition. I stood for a minute on Monona Terrace staring at the finish line, the capitol lit up in the background in the stillness that sharply contrasted the pandemonium that would ensue hours later. I was about to start the Ironman. I would be a different person at the end of the day, finish or not.
Transition, early morning, $10 million in bikes, easy
I tried to find my family with no avail, so I filled up my water bottles on my bike, stuffed two sandwiches into my bike bag and got my body markings. Alyssa and I reunited to stuff ourselves into our wetsuits, drop off our bags and dip into the water. We shared one last hug before getting down to business. I swam out to the first buoy and stared back at the water. There were spectators as far as I could see. Every terrace, every balcony, every shore was absolutely packed. Random strangers were there before sunrise to watch a group of random strangers from around the world do the impossible. I savored every damn minute before watching the pros take off. I went to adjust my goggles, because they leaked the day before, and they snapped right off my head. I was staring at my irreparably damaged goggles, dumbfounded, when the cannon go off.

I felt the panic welling up worse than the churn of 3,000 people taking off in the same water
Every swimmer left, leaving me in the dust. I tried to hold onto my goggles and swim to the first buoy, but I couldn't grasp on.

The panic was surfacing.

I yelled for help, and the closest guard paddled over. I couldn't breathe and tried to get out of my wetsuit. I was beyond myself at that point. I tied my goggles back together and got them back on my face, but realized the anxiety was making me cough. This guard, whoever she may be, saved my day. She zipped my suit back up and followed me from the start to the first turn buoy. I would swim a bit, have to cough, grab onto her board and rest until I could go more. After that turn buoy, she asked if I would be OK, and told me I was going to finish if I just kept going.

So that's what I did - my breathing was so bad I had to breath off every stroke. I already had the pint glass, I had to do this damn race. How would I explain DNFing in the first 20 minutes? I've had enough failure in my life lately. I was not going to fail at this.

I did the backstroke when it got really bad, reasoning that at least I was moving forward and had a chance of making the cut off. When I emerged 1:40 later, I felt like I'd been through a war. I said in the days leading up to it that if I could make it through the swim, I'd finish the race. I never knew how true that was until I stood on the beach, throwing my goggles off in disgust, knowing that I could have swam 20 minutes faster if it wasn't for that meltdown.

I got my wetsuit stripped and made the long walk up the helix to transition. Side note: I tweeted Mike Reilly the pronunciation of my name. I did not train this long to have my name bumbled. And yet, it was not quite my name that I heard getting out of the water. Thanks, bro.

T1 was crazy - a volunteer handed me a bag, another volunteer dumped it out in front of a chair and helped me get out of my swim bottoms. I wore a tri top for the swim and bike, just swapping out the shorts. I was naked, then dressed again, faster than I ever thought possible. I stopped at the sunscreen tent and was slathered by a team of volunteers. I ran out to my bike in socks and sat on the ground next to my bike to put on my shoes, then off I went on the bike.

I had biked the course and knew what to expect - arduous uphills followed by terrifying downhills. The hills, often referred to as The Three Sisters or The Three Bitches, depending on your persuasion, did not disappoint. There were huge crowds leading up every hill and I saw friends along the way, which helped break up the day and boost my spirits.

You know what's surreal? Spending hours on a bike and thinking, holy crap, I am biking an Ironman. This is the moment I've imagined in quiet moments, been waiting for, working for, struggle for for years.

I stopped to use the port o potties twice, but my stomach stayed calm. I ate whatever appealed to me on the course - my nutrition has been absolute shit this summer, so I did what I could to keep moving forward.

Which is really hard with a flat tire. That's right, folks, broken goggles were not the only issue I faced Sunday. Some asshole, and I don't use that lightly, placed thousands of tacks at the top of the hill at mile 47. That hill ends in a long downhill punctuated by a sharp left turn. Which is nearly impossible to navigate with a flat front tire. This sophomoric move not only could have cost me my race, it could have cost me my life. So I hope this future parolee is happy with himself.

I sat on the side of the road and cried until the Trek truck came and changed my tire. It was the second time that day my day was saved by volunteers. It wasn't long, but I was more than a little concerned the time spent "resting" would make me miss the bike cut off.

When I made it to this hill:

I realized I had two+ hours to make it 25 miles. I could make it. Head down, power through.
I saw my family right before I made it up the helix and was exhilarated to see a friendly face. I ran into T2 to change, add fresh lube and hit the bathroom. I saw more friendly faces coming out of transition and got ready to become an Ironman. I knew I would make it - I had more than six hours to finish a marathon. What's a marathon when you've already been working out for hours upon hours?

10ish miles into the run
The run was actually awesome. I jogged a bit, walked up anything that even looked like an incline and walked through much of the aid stations.

Let's talk a minute about these aid stations: holy food batman. There's Perform, water, flat cola, ice, cookies, chips, chomps, bars, bananas, oranges, grapes and Gus AT EVERY AID STATION. And there are 14 aid stations on the half-marathon loop. So much snackage.

My favorite part of the run was running on the Badgers field, twice. It was just surreal. Once the sun went down, I really enjoyed running in the dark, watching the lights catch the reflective materials off all of my fellow Ironman finishers-to be. I ran (see what I did there?) into more friends and it made the run go by pleasantly enough. I didn't need a single bathroom break and just kept chipping away mile after mile.

When I hit the square for the last time, I couldn't even process it all. I felt great. Not just OK or manageable. I felt awesome. I was about to become a fucking Ironman.

I saw my dad as I rounded the last corner and my mom on a bench nearby. I hit the finisher's shoot and distanced myself from the other athletes so I could enjoy the moment and hear my name announced (pronounced incorrectly, of course). I was astonished it wasn't even 10 p.m. Undertrained, overweight, not at all how I wanted to start the race. No matter. I was going to finish the race.

I hit the arch and knew I was a different person.

I heard it: YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!


video
It was the best thing I've heard in months. I can barely articulate how I felt. I was high. Exhilarated. Never more alive. I rose above all my own shit, my problems and my drama to finish something greater than me.

Two volunteers grabbed me immediately and walked me over to get my medal, my hat and my shirt. They got me a chocolate milk, which I downed immediately. I got my photo taken and walked over to the barriers to talk to friends and Alyssa - that little speed demon finished so far ahead of me she could have been showered and resting comfortably before I came through. What a champ!

Twinsies
After I finished, I found my parents and cried when my mom gave me a finisher's jacket that she ordered in advance. She told me she never had a doubt I would finish. It's amazing that through all of what I've been through, I feel so incredibly loved. This race showed me just how many supportive people I have in my life. I am a lucky, lucky girl.

My dad helped me into my sweats and presented me with the carefully and hard-won beer my sister acquired earlier in the week. We all enjoyed a beer before my parents went on their merry way and I devoured a burger and beer. We circled back to the finish line just before midnight and watched some of the last Ironman finishers come through. That's when all the emotions really hit me. I did this. With time to spare. I could smile. I could walk. In fact, I could have dominated if it wasn't for my technical issues.

I cried a lot, then took myself back home and cried some more trying to walk up three flights of stairs to fling myself into bed.

I woke up anxious and went to bed victorious. I was sore but smiling knowing that I did, in fact, have an Ironbitch at my core.

Thank you, dear readers, for coming along this crazy ride with me. I'm typing this in my Ironman Finisher jacket, which it's not even cold enough to wear, but I don't give a damn. I will never ever forget Sept. 7, 2014. It's the day I found out that I am more than just the sum of my fears. There's more in here than bravado and stubbornness. Inside me is a reservoir of will and grit that I never knew existed.
Cost: $700, but who's counting now
Time: 14:48:55
Swim: 1:40:20
Bike: 7:47:40
Run: 5:03:03
Pros: A million volunteers, an established brand, they have this race down to a science, 75,000 people come to watch it, great course support and aid stations
Cons: The bike course is hilly, transitions are massive, this is expensive and training for 140.6 miles takes over your entire life
Would I do this race again? Yes