<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630</id><updated>2011-12-29T12:25:46.739-08:00</updated><title type='text'>dawn's journey</title><subtitle type='html'>This is about my journey into my soul by way of the highway of Ironman</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-7858707710126872223</id><published>2011-11-23T17:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T17:43:26.779-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Is Done - Ironman Arizona</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RPu8BA_itJI/Ts2ff72cGNI/AAAAAAAAAFM/z0csj9O83gc/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-11-23%2Bat%2B7.26.24%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 179px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RPu8BA_itJI/Ts2ff72cGNI/AAAAAAAAAFM/z0csj9O83gc/s200/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-11-23%2Bat%2B7.26.24%2BPM.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5678370076174850258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where to start? When I was 16 years old, I saw the Ironman on TV.  I distinctly remember being mesmerized.  Over the years, that race just seemed to “show” up in my life.  I remember taking care of my second newborn infant and once again being mesmerized by the race so much so that I forgot about another commitment I had that day and instead sitting in front of the TV watching Lori Bowden.  Somewhere in my consciousness I knew I had a calling to take on something like the Ironman.  I get it that not everyone has this kind of pull or even understands it – I just knew I did.  Then the commitment started, first when I told another human being out loud about it.  Sitting at an Ihop, I told my then boyfriend/now husband, “I am going to do Ironman before I am 40”. At the time I didn’t know that there were more than one Ironman race or that qualifying for Hawaii was the way to get there. So started the educational process.  I am 42 now, have done 6 Ironman races, had 2 back surgeries, gained amazing friends, had a complete transformation and I have qualified for Kona.  On this road, I have confronted fears I never knew I had. I have met myself coming and going. I have been forged like a samari sword.  &lt;br /&gt;This spring I had the chance to spend the weekend with the legend Julie Moss. She sat patiently as I told her my “story” and then looked me straight in the eye or rather my soul and told me “you will go when you decide you deserve it.” Thus set me on the path of figuring what that was going to take and what was holding me back.  All I knew was that this year was going to be about putting it all out there and taking a long hard look at what I really wanted.  What I wanted was to be fearless. Who am I and how does that look as an athlete? Who do I look up to the most?  How do I really want to be in the process?  So I started by looking at whom I admired in the sport. Who did I find myself following all year long? There were really only two women that I identified with – Natasha Badmann and Hillary Biscay.  Those women exude doing things because they have merit not just to have a title. I would see that they would stay the course no matter what because it was important and do it with a smile the whole time.  After doing everything I knew how and realizing that there really was one stone yet unturned; I asked Hillary to coach me.  Geeze- now I am really putting it out there!  No more flying under the radar – I’m all in. Which is how I do most of my life anyway.  I had to confront the message of “I am a 432 year old mom of teenagers – who do I think I am” that shows up whenever I get around those that I admire in the sport.  Hmm maybe it is time to think of your self as an Athlete.   I have been following Hillary since her Sutto days. I remember years ago, watching an interview with her right before the Ironman Florida (which was something like her 7th Ironman race that year and she had placed top 5 in every one of them) and she said, “Coach says if I get top 3 I can take a month off”.  Wow, that lit the fire in my belly and asking her to coach me was going to be a bit like jumping off a cliff.  When the email came back “yes” – well that was it - chips all in!  &lt;br /&gt;We had 2 months to get my post Louisville Ironman body ready to go again in at the Ironman Arizona.  Now I knew things were going to be really different in the training department. Some of the workouts took a bit of me wrapping my brain around.  After a few weeks I settled in to them and realized how much I was learning and how my body was adapting. Awesome!  There were several times when I thought that my Masters Swim Coach, Susan and Hillary were really working together or maybe this is what the next level really looks like.  Then the wheels seemed to come off….&lt;br /&gt;One morning I woke up feeling “off”.  I started the first of my 3 workouts that day and lasted about 20 minutes before my stomach started to revolt followed by my entire abdomen.  Twelve hours later I am in the hospital with an enlarged pancreas and ulcers and on a morphine drip.  No sooner does that get under control, then I am out on a easy jog that my left foot sends the all too familiar message to sit on the curb and don’t run another step. Four weeks out and confirmed stress reaction in the heel.  I have had a few stress fractures so I know that when they decide to show up it can be anywhere in the process of healing but usually 4-6 weeks is what it takes.  I am four weeks out and if I get off of it I should be fine.  Leading up to the race, I had plenty of chances to say that over and over to myself.  I ran on the anti gravity treadmill to avoid pounding on my foot and only went as far as running with 85% of my body weight.  Walking around in a boot a week out from doing an Ironman race certainly can challenge ones idea of what it looks like to qualify for the World Championships.  I have believed in Rocky and Rudy – to be great; one must over come much.  Yet when all this happened, those closest to me didn’t even flinch.  Hillary just sent revised workouts and Jesse just kept asking me what my workouts were and Susan put me in the fast lane.  Kind of like when my kids were little and they would fall down and then look at me for a reaction. If I stayed calm they would be off and running with hardly a tear but if I flinched we would be at the band-aids and popsicles for every little scrape.  So I just kept looking for a way to get things done and maybe we do it differently?&lt;br /&gt;Go time – Get in the car and drive to Arizona.  This could not have been a better scenario. My family is with me. I have done the race before so I know the course.  I have had only few opportunities to race with friends and now I have an entire gaggle of them on the course with me.  I have the best sports massage therapist in the world here.  My awesome cousin lives here and knows all kinds of things healing. My mother in law and spiritual mentor is here.  My coach is on the course as well.  Things could not be in better alignment to support the best effort I can give on the day.  Finally, my husband looks me straight in the eye and says, “if you believe it has to be hard it will be, why not believe that you are right in the flow of where you are supposed to be and enjoy”.  Ok so that is different.  Maybe I have outgrown the need be beaten to a bloody pulp to be worthy of the path I am on.  Maybe I really do deserve to have the most wonderful coaches show me the way.  Maybe I already have done the training and the body knows what to do.  &lt;br /&gt;Race day – 4am comes just like it does every morning.  I did sleep rather than the normal toss and turn.  Everything seems to just go with the flow.  Aside from the traffic frustration, my usual pre race edginess is not there.  Body marking has 3 friends from home ready to greet me with excitement and encouragement.  Such great girls in knee high pink socks dancing around and easing everyone’s tension.  Aside from the usual age on the calf and race number on the arms, they write Smile on one hand and HTFU on the other for me to look at all day.&lt;br /&gt; Then I am off to the water and to get in position to swim.  For some reason I cant get to my usual place up front and cant even see the first buoy and without warning the gun goes off.  The last time I did this race, it wasn’t long before the “washing machine” calmed and a train had formed.  This time I kept looking for the “train” of fast swimmers and instead I was in a school of them.  Wow, better swim hard and hold on to some kind of position. After the turn around it seemed like the buoys and the line and turned into musical chairs.  So I decide to swim a straight line and sight off the bridge rather than chasing the buoys.  The water seemed really choppy and I am pretty sure those at the back of the pack could walk the swim because I drank half of the lake.  I am all about hydration.  I had mixed feeling about coming out of the water.  On one hand I was ready to be out of the cold and congested swim.  On the other hand, this was going to be my first taste of running with 100% body weight on land while I made my way through transition.  I have to say that adrenaline is a good thing and there was just enough to sensation to decide that I would decide later how the run would go and that now I only needed to focus on getting on the bike.  &lt;br /&gt;Coach had given me very specific instructions on how to do this race.  Knowing how to race the bike portion of the Ironman is something that I just had not grasped.  I could ride hard and that is all I had done up until now but racing it is different.  Hillary had told me that I was racing the bike.  I needed to take my competitors into consideration and have a strategy. I had only just ridden my bike as hard as I thought I could while thinking about running a marathon up until now.  Today was different.  Today I was racing every leg of the Ironman. I also found myself repeating different mantras.  As the wind picked up (and boy did it ever) rather than mantras of fighting, I was repeating “fresh and loose- ease into the flow” over and over.  The bike course in Arizona is 3 loops, the longest part is a straight away slight incline up Beeline highway with nothing but the dessert to look at or provide protection from wind and then back down the incline to town.  On the first loop out I notice slight wind coming from the east with no help up the Beeline but also no hindrance down which allowed for some nice speed.  The start of the second loop provided a bit more information as the wind picked up and was shifting a bit from the east to the south – hmm going down the Beeline was not as much fun this time. The third loop was so easy going up the Beeline that I knew coming down was going to warm up the legs for the run or so I kept telling myself as the quads burned.  That was in an effort to stay “relentlessly positive” as the Sally Meyerhoff band on my right hand kept telling me.  So as I made the turn, I put my head down and worked to get back to town as quickly as possible. I repeated the mantra “be in the flow”, made sure I followed Coach’s instructions and made sure I was racing. Before all was said and done it was the right hand turn into town and then prepare for the run. Coming into transition, my “spotters” told me that I was in 5th.  Decision time is now – are the chips all in or not.  All I knew is that the no turning back time was here and I was going to really see what my mind was capable of accomplishing. This is what I came here for – to see what the spirit can really accomplish.  As I took my first steps onto the run, I was going to see.&lt;br /&gt;The sound of those first steps did not exactly sound like those of someone placing in the top of the age group. They sounded much more like a skip with one foot and a step with the other.  I decide to go for it for as long as I can.  I will make course corrections along the way.  I decide to repeat the mantra.  At about mile 3, I see my friends from home and ask them to give me my splits and position. When I see them on the backside of the loop, they tell me I am in 4th and to let that carry me over the foot.  At mile 4 I see my dear friend Steve Rink and my new friend “the Butt” Brian Folts dancing like fools in pink zebra striped Speedos and cheering people on. Steve, forever exuding relentless positivity does a very good job of drowning out any self-doubt or pain by constant words of encouragement.    Back around for the second loop, I see the girls again. Position changed to 5th but I’m gaining on those in front.  Ok focus now and keep moving and stay in the flow.  The great thing about a 3-loop course is it is easy to break it down.  On the second loop, I start to say to myself, “you only have one more chance to come by here”.  On the second loop, I see Hillary.  She gives me some instructions and words of wisdom having been in my shoes before and sends me on my way.  Somehow that is like a shot in my arm.  Then I see Brian and he just makes me laugh.  As I head into one of the more festive aid stations I am laughing and I realize that I have enough where with all to even get a little grove on. It feels good.  After that I get to see Hillary again and I realize that my digestive system really wants me to be done.  Having two teenage boys in the house, talk about bodily functions is the norm and I sometimes forget that is not the same way for everyone as I yell out “I have to poop” and some guy behind me says TMI and I get some strange looks from others. I was just afraid to stop moving for a pit stop and I was afraid of becoming infamous like Uta Pipping or the “poopman” from Ironman Florida. I decide the second option is better than the first so just keep moving. On to the third lap, the great thing about a lapped course is it is easy to see your progress. Now I can say to myself “this is the last time you get to see this so make it count”.  When I see the “spotters”, I am told that I am making progress on second and third place.  I also have seen most of my friends on the course and each time I feel a little bit of inspiration or encouragement.  I see Coach and she tells me to not walk another step – hmm tall orders there coach but I will try. Back around to the festive aid station with girls dressed in fishnets and heels and crazy dancing guy – I can still smile which is a good sign and I am still running with 3 miles to go. CRAZY!  Back around to the last 2 miles where I see Hillary running and screaming at me to keep going and to find another gear – yeah ok that gear would be to just stay out of neutral and reverse at this point.  Everyone is at the finish line and the last mile is a bit of no man’s land when out pops my wonderful husband.  The final shot in my arm to get me there. I have never had my legs hurt so badly and I have no idea what place I am in.  I do know that the watch is saying something to me that I have been visualizing since 2004, a 10:something Ironman?! I don’t remember much about the finishers shoot except once again seeing Mike Reilly up in the tower and hearing my name and seeing the clock 10:40!  &lt;br /&gt;I know I could not have done this without my amazing team of supporters.  My incredible husband, Jesse, who’s unending support kept me going. Thank you my love for asking the big questions.  My kids – Devin, Jonah and Paige that put up with me on the trainer at soccer games, missing football and lacrosse games as well as their races and always said “Go For it Mom – no plan B!”  To my coach, Hillary – just the best experience ever to learn from you.  I am beyond words. To my swim coach Susan – for always seeing more in me. For the Sisters – you just get me even when you don’t.  For the rest of my family – for your support even when you think I have lost it. For my sponsors – Victory Martial Arts and Tri-Sition Area for your support in all ways.  For Dr. Allan Villavicencio, Boulder Neurosurgical associates and Bob Cranny at Altitude Physical Therapy and Nick Milnor at 4Extreeme Health and Dr. Marque Allen at Sports Medicine Associates for putting me back together again over and over and never telling me I can’t do this . You are the best.  For my team mates – thank you for pushing me even when I said I was tired.  And last but not least all my amazing friends I have made in this sport – May we continue to inspire each other!  Aloha!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-7858707710126872223?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/7858707710126872223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=7858707710126872223' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/7858707710126872223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/7858707710126872223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2011/11/it-is-done-ironman-arizona.html' title='It Is Done - Ironman Arizona'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RPu8BA_itJI/Ts2ff72cGNI/AAAAAAAAAFM/z0csj9O83gc/s72-c/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-11-23%2Bat%2B7.26.24%2BPM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-5648791262632256103</id><published>2011-09-06T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T15:43:37.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ironman Louisville 2011</title><content type='html'>Ironman Louisville 2011&lt;br /&gt;This one will go down in the books as my defining race.  I go into every race with 3 goals.  Only one of them am I very vocal about – qualify for Kona.  That is no secret. I learned from Chris “Macca” McCormick that if you have a dream don’t be afraid to put it out there, so I haven’t.  The next goal is to have a personal record or in other words improve.  Finally, it is to learn something about myself. After all, Ironman really is about forging the soul.  &lt;br /&gt;In the days leading up to the race I did what I always do in the midst of getting everything ready and going over all my equipment hundreds of times; I wrote out my perfect day.  I wrote out what I was feeling in the moment as well as how I wanted to physically, emotionally and spiritually feel through out the race.  I imagine having the perfect swim.  What will I be feeling while swimming, what will I be thinking while swimming and how my swim will go.  I follow that same process for the bike and the run.  Then I read it over and over and fine-tune it.  This time I even shared it with my husband.  I wanted to make sure no stone was left unturned  &lt;br /&gt;Race morning I got up and had my usual pre race drink and sandwich.  I also decided to randomly flip to a chapter in Mecca’s book and read whatever words the “Champ” had to say.  I opened to the chapter “Embrace the Suck”.  Read the chapter, got dressed and headed out to transition to set up and get ready to race.  Everything was going very smooth and I felt excited and calm.  I am never calm. At the rack I realize that a fellow competitor that I have followed but never met is racked right by me!  I get to make a new friend.  I have made friends at every race that I stay in touch with and make this experience so special. While we compete against one another, we wouldn’t be able to compete without each other so I always look forward to new relationships and cherish them.  &lt;br /&gt;The only time I felt agitated was trying to find the end of the line for the swim start. Very congested with athletes and family.  I ended up just getting in line somewhere, as I needed to calm myself waiting in line for an hour.  I spent that time thinking about my perfect day, listening to conversations around me and trying to send out blessings to all the athletes (another pre- race ritual for me).  I realized that I had “iron – virgins” around me and enjoyed answering questions and getting them excited.  Before I knew it the cannon sounded and the line moved very quickly.  I always feel relief at this point because I know that the body will move into what it knows to do.  With a time trial start, everyone entered the swim one at a time and then took off.  I was in the water at about 7:15.  &lt;br /&gt;The Swim:  Hmm the water is not as gross as I thought it would be.  There are lots around me without the chaos of a mass start.  Looking for packs or fast feet and I realize that there aren’t any and this will be a tactical swim. Thank you Coach for working with me on getting through the people because that is what I did.  The women wore hot pink swim caps and I was off to see how many I could pass.  I sited often enough to find a cap and eventually a buoy.  I have no idea if I am swimming fast, but I know that I am moving through the groups.  Now I start the self-talk – “Don’t be a barge” (thanks Todd).  Keep your elbow high, Keep it in the front quadrant, where are your lats? Find them”.  I said that all over and over and over.  I really wanted to check my watch, but resisted the urge as I was on the hunt for pink caps.  About 1000 meters out I realize someone is sitting on my feet!  Hmm am I swimming fast enough for someone to want to sit on me?!  That is a first (I think) , ok latch on buddy lets go. Ok a little ego there but I still struggle thinking of myself as a “swimmer”.  As always the swim looks too long in the beginning and the end seems to come too soon.  As I swim up to the dock and exit I allow myself to see my time 1:03!!  Holy cow!!  A PR on a non wetsuit, time trial swim!  Maybe it is time to start thinking of myself as a swimmer.  Got to give credit to Coach Susan and Todd for seeing the swimmer in me even when I can’t.  Isn’t that how life is sometimes – and how valuable it can be to see ourselves through someone else’s eyes to get clarity of who we are.  &lt;br /&gt;Out of the water and in to transition. The downside of the time trial start is for the entire day you have no idea what place you are in because there are those that start way behind you. It truly is a “stick your own race” day.  I just love the volunteers in the changing tent.  As usual, I had the nicest lady take all my things out and help dress me.  Shoes on, race belt on, helmet on, grab the glasses and go!  I get to my bike and realize that my glasses only have one lens.  Ok well this is Ironman and the life lesson here is to not sweat the small stuff and keep moving.  I have always said that Ironman is like life in a fish bowl.  If we can take the challenges, ups and down and translate them to life and get a little lesson out of it then it is all worth it.  So I take off without the glasses.  I see Jesse and take a breath.  I am amazed at how that split second of seeing your “corner person” has such an energizing and calming affect.  There is something about firing on all levels and having your most loved one see that is validating.  &lt;br /&gt;On to the bike.  The beginning is always a cluster of bikes and emotions.  Everyone is assessing where they are and how they are feeling. I was no different.  Everything started off great.  As usual, I was in the mix with several of my competitors and we were all riding the same pace. This means that we are constantly changing positions and getting to see each other.  I keep exchanging positions with a woman that has a photograph of a man pinned to her top.  I ask if that is her husband and she replies yes and that he passed away 3 weeks ago!  I get choked up think about the circumstances that allowed her to be in this place.  This is what Ironman is all about, overcoming life.  I am grateful that she is here and send her a bit of energy.  It is around this point that I am always reminded that while we are racing one another, we need one another to have a race in order to see what we are made of.  It always strikes me as such a strange paradox – the battle of competition.  Somewhere around the 40-mile mark, I realize that the wind has picked up and I am fighting my front wheel.  Hmm a new lesson is learned – sometime the most aerodynamic set up is not the best on the day.  I start to struggle to stay in the game as my speed is dropping. Ok this is one of those “troughs” and I know that as long as I keep moving forward it will change.  This is the time of the game where the race is mental.  I don’t know if everyone goes through this, I just know that I do.  I will say that on this day – it lasted for the rest of the bike.  Getting food down was impossible and I am thankful that I don’t rely on solid food alone (learned that one at Ironman Florida).  Somewhere around the last 15 miles, a mini race between me and 2 other girls starts.  We are pushing hard, no kind words are spoken and I know for me none were thought.  I know that if I can push the pace and hopefully break the rubber band with these two, I will have a bit of a mental victory and some positive thoughts heading out on to the run.  Total concentration is needed at this point.  I am also aware that I am in at least 8th place.  Not where I wanted to be going into the run as I am going to have to have my A game for the run to be competitive.  Now I fight being discouraged and work to stay in the moment.  Coming off the bike, Jesse tells me I am in 10th!  Ok I think – game on.  Time to adjust the plan.  Now I am going for a personal record.  All I can focus on is running a sub 4-hour marathon and see if that is enough to move up.  Mile 2 has the first turn around and I can start to see who is in front of me and how far.  I know one girl that I rode with and she is a good half-mile ahead.  I have no idea of her pace so I am just going to have to go for it.  &lt;br /&gt;I have started the Ironman journey with the “I just want to finish”.  The I went to “I want to do my best” and then on to “I want to do my best and hope that is enough to get to Kona or place.  This time I had to be a warrior.  I had to be a competitor.  I had to be willing to dig deeper than just what I KNEW was in me to go to the place of “I am don’t know what is here but I am going to find out”.  It was dark and scary.  It required total focus and was very different from the way I have raced an Ironman.  I relied on the experience of racing the Tall Texan the past 2 times and having to defend while being chased.  Now I was the one in pursuit.  All the “woowoo” karmic thoughts were pushed aside and I was totally in my body and mind with one single purpose.  This was a level of being present I have never experienced.  I kept my focus on the horizon and hardly noticed my surroundings.  The pain was not a luxury I could afford to acknowledge. As I hit the halfway mark I desperately looked around for Jesse.  In retrospect, if he had been there I am not sure I wouldn’t have caved to the emotions.  I had to stay focused on mile splits and who was in front of me.  I constantly scanned the horizon for the mile markers, as that was the only way I knew where I was performing. My GPS had been turned off for a few miles so the splits were off with that.  I went right to my split timer on my watch and used that.  Once again – life lesson of adapting to the situation on the spot and finding a solution.  The last 6 miles were the time turn it on.  The more I summoned some power in my legs, the more everything else rebelled.  Every aid station was a fight to get down hydration and cooling the core while holding position.  &lt;br /&gt;I knew I had reeled in several girls, but had no idea how many.  I only knew that I could just run the race of my life and focus on a Personal Record and let the chips fall where they may.  The last 2 miles my legs came to life.  I don’t begin to understand where the energy came from or why I couldn’t get it earlier, all I know is it was there.  I saw the finish line and was watching my time constantly.  With every push I had, I crossed in 11:04 and a new personal record! I knew that I had run a faster marathon but not sure what the margin was.  It wasn’t until we got to the room that I saw 3:51.  My fastest run before that was 4:07 – 16 min!  I finished in 7th so I knew that took me out of the running for Kona and podium.  I know that getting mired down in disappointment would keep me from realizing what I just did.  Also I realize that the difference between a podium and my time was 2 min and 30 seconds. That margin is the smallest I have ever had. All in all an honorable effort.  Most importantly, I realized once again, that Ironman took me to all new places with my soul and I learned more about myself than I could have without this experience.  I learned a level of concentration within me that I have never experienced.  I learned strength in me that I have never in all my years of competition and searching that I have never experienced.  It drives a hunger to see more of myself and comforts me that life can never throw me a curve ball that I can’t respond to in the most powerful of ways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-5648791262632256103?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/5648791262632256103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=5648791262632256103' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/5648791262632256103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/5648791262632256103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2011/09/ironman-louisville-2011.html' title='Ironman Louisville 2011'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-2935807296553523752</id><published>2010-05-02T21:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T21:17:30.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>St George Ironman Race Report</title><content type='html'>Race Report&lt;br /&gt;Ok here is the report of the most incredible race I have ever had.  My race partner and very good friend Linda and I arrived in St. George very late Tuesday night. Wednesday we get checked in, pick up packets, check out the town of St George and drive all over in search of all the we need for the week.  Thursday included going for a swim in the lake that looked straight out of Jurassic park and felt much colder than what the temps were saying. Going back to the expo to meet up with fellow athletes and then driving the bike course. While doing that we realized the course was daunting, but doable.  After we had the Athlete Briefing. Friday consisted of getting gear ready to check in and driving the run course – that is when we all felt like this was going to more than the average Ironman. Really?  And I thought Ironman was the “ultimate challenge”.  Saturday morning came very early and due to the double transition, we were bussed out to the lake so we had to be on the busses by 4:30.  &lt;br /&gt;At 6:50 a.m. we were in the water.  We were told it was 58 degrees, but something told me that it was much colder than that.  Nevertheless, I have raced in that temp many times and never had an issue so I line up and take my position up front ready for the chaos and washing machine.  The cannon goes off and so does the race.  Usually after the first 200 meters or so some kind of order happens. Not at this race. After 500 meters we turn straight into the sun.  This is the longest stretch of the swim and with swim caps the same color of the buoys everyone continued to work for position.  I continued to swim strong and maintain my form as best as I could.  Finally we round the last turn and I can see the boat doc.  Then I felt as if my right calf was in the grips of some terrible creature.  I reach back and realize I am having a horrible cramp.  I try my best to relax and get through the swim.  Into the change tent I am aware that I am having a hard time walking but figure that once I am on the bike I will warm up and all will return to normal.&lt;br /&gt;On the bike, I am working to maintain focus and get ready for the challenge ahead.  I am aware that my calf is not releasing and I am not able to push my heal down at all.  That being said I know that I have a very tough ride coming up and sticking to the plan will be critical.  I am all to aware that the car ride did not do the climbing justice by the end of the first loop.  With a long down hill and a great tail wind, I decided now I would take stock on the calf issue.  I realize that not much has changed and things are still locked up. I tried my best to stretch and get on with the business of the second loop.  Early on in the second loop the wind has changed directions and now we are going right into a head wind as we head up the hills.  I stick to the plan and keep my heart rate right where it is and as much as possible try to flex my foot and stretch my calf.  This course was by far the most challenging ride I have ever done on my bike.  I am about an hour slower than my usual Ironman ride, but I am getting ready to head back to town and see what my calf is going to let me do on the run.&lt;br /&gt;When I arrive in town, I am getting off the bike and realize this is going to be a real test.  Right off the bat, the run is up hill for several miles.  The run is two laps with a two mini loops to be complete on each leg of the lap.  It is a great chance to see all the other racers.  I knew that my good friend Bob Cranny was having to walk the marathon due to hip surgery and that because he is such a strong swimmer and cyclist he would be well ahead of me on the run.  My goal was to run until I could catch him.  While the bike had lots of hills, the run had just as much. Several long hills  were 2 miles long.  The good news on a good day was that for every up hill there was a downhill that could have made for some good running.  Unfortunately, on this day every step made the calf hurt even more.  I would not say that I was running.  After about 15 miles, I had resorted to running 8 minutes and walking 1. At about 17 miles, I caught Cranny and walked with him a few miles.  Walking was not helping so I decided to try to return to walk running.  After that I noticed a sharp pain in my foot that was not letting me run very long at all. I tried to paying attention to the pain but didn’t have much luck so I resorted to counting steps. I would “run” 100 steps and walk 100.  By mile 22 there was no more running at all.  I had more of a wobble with a forward motion.  By mile 25 I knew I was going to have to walk/wobble across the finish line.  I started to try to remember why I do this thing called Ironman.  I remembered that when I was 16, I watched my first Ironman and thought it was amazing.  I was intrigued by what it took to get through a race.  I became familiar with the stories of Julie Moss crawling across the finish line, Wendy Ingram/Sian Welch crawling across in a race for 4th and 5th, Dick and Rick Holt and Chris Leigh.  My journey was not about a personal record or a qualifying slot. It was about going to the place where the mind makes happen what the body can’t.  It was about seeing if I had what it took to have that kind of focus and determination.  It was about seeing what I was really made of – on purpose. It was about choosing an experience rather than waiting for one to happen to me.  As I wobbled across the finish line, I remember lots of cheering, cameras and the Voice of Ironman, Mike Reilly once again declaring me an “Ironman”.  Through my tears and pain I was aware that I got what I had wanted back when I was 16.  While this was my 4th Ironman race this was the first to take me to that place.  I feel certain that my foot is broken but won’t know until Tuesday.  My calf is still rock hard.  I am an Ironman!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-2935807296553523752?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/2935807296553523752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=2935807296553523752' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/2935807296553523752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/2935807296553523752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2010/05/s.html' title='St George Ironman Race Report'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-2657515610390448151</id><published>2009-11-29T04:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T05:04:12.827-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It is Done- Ironman Arizna race report</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJvBNYv2aI/AAAAAAAAAD0/OO3TLD9UqBk/s1600/IMG_0774.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJvBNYv2aI/AAAAAAAAAD0/OO3TLD9UqBk/s200/IMG_0774.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409508168989399458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is Done!  &lt;br /&gt;I have just finished my third Ironman race.  Racing Ironman is such a passion of mine and not long ago I was not certain that I would be able to do it again.  For a while I thought that it was time for a new focus and career.  Then the new career was taken away and I felt so lost.  I assumed then that I was to return to a focus on racing.  No sooner than I felt some certainty with that realization, then my back gave out on me and I was staring down the barrel of a spinal fusion.  I had been told my many doctors that when I got to that point my running days were over.  Running being an important part of racing Ironman, I was disappointed, frightened and lost again.  Thankfully, a series of events led me to a few angels that would repair the damage and get me back to running.  I have heard it told that coincidence is God’s way of maintaining anonymity.  All I know is that all signs kept pointing to the fact that there is a reason for me to stay in the Ironman fold.  I am of the belief that all things happen for a reason and my job is to show up to what is in front of me and strive to be at potential as much as possible.  So the journey back to Ironman began.&lt;br /&gt;18 months of first walking, then easing back to swimming, back on the bike, running, training and racing made me strong and ready to toe the Ironman line once again.  All the time I have had this unwavering feeling that there is a greater purpose for me to be back to racing Ironman.  I must say that at this point, I am not quite sure what all is involved in this reason; I just know there is one.  &lt;br /&gt;So my sweet 9-year-old daughter and I set of for a 14-hour drive to Tempe for the race.  We had a great time, lots of good music and she kept me centered. Our rental house was perfect and over a few days everyone else arrived. I was able to get in a pre- race massage and felt calm most of the time.  I purposefully avoided riding or running on the course.  I didn’t even drive the course, as this has proved really successful for me lately.  No chance to set up any negative anchors.  I did swim every day to adjust to the cold water and wetsuit. Even with that I just took things really easy.  I kept hearing Peter Reid in my head talking about how athletes “Pin it” the week of the race.  So I mostly stayed off my feet.  The day before the race I felt almost bored and ready to get things going.  &lt;br /&gt;Race morning&lt;br /&gt;I got up after trying my best to sleep.  I ate my usual oatmeal and finally had caffeine.  I think I was looking forward to that as much as the race as I had been off of it for 3 months.  Then my “Sherpa” friend Allyson (just the best for coming out!) took me to the race.  I still felt really calm.  Once I got to transition, the urge to cry just kept creeping up.  “I can’t believe I am here” coupled by “ this feels really familiar” and “ Geeze I am cold” were the thoughts of the morning.  I know I was nervous because I felt like I had early onset Alzheimer’s with trying to remember all the last minute preps.  When I would go over to see my family the emotions really got the best of me so I had to be careful with that one. I know they all sacrificed so much for me to be there and I just wanted to make them proud.  I decided to wear my old Newton’s all the way down to the swim start to keep my feet warm as long as possible.  Hopefully someone will get something out of that donation as those shoes did so much for me!  Mike Reilly told us to get in and I debated waiting, but in the end decided the more time I had to adjust and get in position the better.  I had been nervous about the swim start, but once the gun went off things went just fine. The usual “slug-fest” seemed to be calmer than I remembered and I just followed Coach Susan’s instructions to keep the arms in front and worry about form once things clear out.  About 500 meters in the swim, I looked for clear water and realize that when I got there I was out of the “train”. I decided that I was hanging with the train just fine and best to be “pulled” along rather than being passed over so I got right back in the pack.  I was shocked to have the “washing machine” really pick up at the end!  I must have been kicked in the face 4 times in the last 300 meters and swam over once!  A quick elbow to the ribs helped my fellow competitor find his OWN line and leave mine alone.  When I got out I was beyond thrilled to see that I had met my goal time and a four-minute personal record!&lt;br /&gt;The Bike&lt;br /&gt;On my way to three loops of the bike. Since I had not previewed the course, everything on the first loop was new.   I noticed almost no wind and was curious to see how this loop would go.  I started on my nutrition immediately.  Every 15 minutes I would take from my nutrition water bottle of Infinit and Carbo Gain.  Every 45 minutes I would take a quarter of my peanut butter and honey sandwich.  In between those time frames I would drink from my aero bottle of water.  The first loop went really well.  Yes, giant packs went past me.  While I think that lots of energy can be wasted on drafting conversations, the reality for me is when there are so many athletes on the course and a good portion of them with similar abilities, packs will form.  Also, the experience of Ironman is one that is life changing and therefore I understand opening it up to as many as possible.  So I decided to stay as true to myself as possible.  As we started on our second lap, the wind had picked up dramatically.  Now this is the wind that I was nervously anticipating.  Right into our faces as we took the gradual hill all the way up.  I found my confidence and focus slip a bit.  I kept trying to find the sweet gear.  Finally, I reach the turn around to have the wind at my back.  Nice!  I even ran out of gear, but was well aware that I was not making up time lost on the way up.  During the entire second loop, I just kept telling myself “ you only have to do this one more time”.  Near the end of the second loop I realize that the flags are starting to blow the other way and that I am feeling a bit of wind in my face.  I hit the turn around and head out for the third loop.  Slight tail wind and I am trying to find some speed while staying in myself.  The mental calculations begin and I know that I have some work cut out for me to hit my goal. In hindsight, my goal was a bit too generous and I will have to adjust that for the next time.  About 6 miles from the turn around I hear someone say “ Dawn Monroe- Elder”.  Now hearing my maiden name while in no man’s land was a bit shocking and I immediately knew that only one person would be using that name – Steve, my buddy from Facebook!  Wow, a friend on the course whom I had been following all year!  Now I was just thrilled to have some company as well as to meet the person I had only known in cyber world!  We finish up the loop only losing touch near the end. We had gotten caught up in a group and that was difficult to get away from while riding pace.  The trick then is to stay legal as possible and get to T2.  I finish the bike in 5:45! That was exactly what I had wanted although as I said before that was too conservative. &lt;br /&gt;The run &lt;br /&gt;I came out of transition really quick thanks to fantastic volunteers.  I opted to run with my Fuel Belt with Infinit in it.  While I felt like I had a good pace my Garmin was showing slowing with every mile.  Ok, stay calm and let the legs settle in to the run.  I was taking Gatorade at each aid station and thinking about form.  On the back end of the first loop headed back to the start of the second loop, I saw Hillary Biscay.  Now for anyone who knows me, Hillary is one of those professional athletes that just speaks to me. She has a fortitude that I truly admire.  Seeing her brought up all kinds of emotions that I needed to choke back to continue. Something about being on the edge like that can bring up all sorts of emotions and it never ceases to amaze me.  Once again, got to learn to focus a bit more.  As I came in for my second loop I was in damage control.  All I could think about was I wanted a nap.  I was not tired so much as I was sleepy.  I started trying to get caffeine everywhere I could.  I went for my caffeinated gels, tried the coke begged for salt, took the Gatorade and waited for the storm to pass.  At this point, I just kept moving forward.  Seeing my family at each loop helped.  I missed the special needs for the second loop and that really made me have to revamp the plan.  By the end of the second loop I could do the math and I knew that the original goal of a 3:50 marathon was not going to happen.  I worked the second goal of a sub 11 hour Ironman.  Somewhere after the start of the 3 lap my run legs showed up.  Hmmm where were you an hour ago?  Oh well let’s work it.  Once they came around, I felt good and in a good rhythm.  I knew it would be close, but I was on a mission to finish strong.   As I came around to the finish line I saw the clock and realized that while I was off on the original goal, I was going to have a huge personal record.  My finish time was 11:05. 22 minutes of my best Ironman time.  Of course, I fell apart at the finish so thrilled to once again have had the chance to really meet myself.  &lt;br /&gt;I am so grateful for the opportunity that Ironman affords each and every person be it competitor or spectator.  We all get to experience the human spirit and few places in daily life provide that gift.  Once again I was able to see who I am and make choices of the kind of person I want to be.  Once again, I came face to face with my greatest fears and swam, rode and ran right with them.  Once again, my mind amazed me.  Once again, I became overwhelmed with gratitude for Dr. V and the gift of my body back, my family and the gift of love and support and my friends and the gift of camaraderie, love and encouragement.  &lt;br /&gt;18 months ago I didn’t know if I would ever be able to have this experience.  18 months ago I wondered who I would be if I never raced Ironman again. In that time, I realized that Ironman is what I do, not who I am.  It is the route I chose to take to be more of me.  It is the road I take to practice life and come away with a few more tools to get the most out of the time I am here.  It is how I get to be who I want to be.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is next?  Ironman. I am giving myself one week to decide.  I am not finished by a long shot of living this way dancing with my greatest fears and greatest joys.  My birthday gift to myself may just be Ironman St. George.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-2657515610390448151?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/2657515610390448151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=2657515610390448151' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/2657515610390448151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/2657515610390448151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2009/11/it-is-done-ironman-arizna-race-report.html' title='It is Done- Ironman Arizna race report'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJvBNYv2aI/AAAAAAAAAD0/OO3TLD9UqBk/s72-c/IMG_0774.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-2880928052673508812</id><published>2009-09-27T15:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T16:25:49.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Am I Going?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/Sr_ztrDGc9I/AAAAAAAAADs/J_Jeha5VaT8/s1600-h/IMG_0498.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/Sr_ztrDGc9I/AAAAAAAAADs/J_Jeha5VaT8/s200/IMG_0498.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386291645333795794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is one thing to set a goal, it is another thing entirely to own it.  I have learned in the process of Ironman that there is always an opportunity to have a life lesson experienced during racing or training.  Paying attention is paramount is making the experience be more than just endless miles and suffering.  As the training intensifies so does the resolve and pain.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was running 18 miles today following a very hard 90 mile ride yesterdays. The legs, while showing up to do the job, were complaining the entire time.  As fatigue set in, form took more of an effort.  I noticed that when I let my form go, I started to look just about 3 feet in front of me. Head was down and the shoulders were slumped and the pace slowed.  I did realize that when my head was up, eyes focused on the horizon and shoulders back, I ran faster.  I became aware that this is such a perfect metaphor for life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So often we tend to only focus with where we are at any given time.  When we do that we become victim to only our circumstances.  We also tend to miss opportunities coming up or obstacles that could be avoided.  Getting bogged down by life is much easier when all we see is right where we are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keeping our eyes on the horizon makes all the difference.  We can take advantage of opportunities.  We can avoid pitfalls because we see them coming.  We know where we are going.  The pace of life quickens and suddenly life seems manageable.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will always be hurdles to deal with in life.  There will always be short cuts and chances to skip out on the hard stuff.  It is in the hard stuff though that makes us strong. It is in the hard stuff that we find out who we are.  It is in the hard stuff that resolve is solidified.  It is in the hard stuff that dreams can come true!  Here is keeping an eye on the horizon and taking life by the hand!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-2880928052673508812?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/2880928052673508812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=2880928052673508812' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/2880928052673508812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/2880928052673508812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2009/09/where-am-i-going.html' title='Where Am I Going?'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/Sr_ztrDGc9I/AAAAAAAAADs/J_Jeha5VaT8/s72-c/IMG_0498.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-2438595249519221578</id><published>2009-05-31T13:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T13:21:52.442-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The big Comeback</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SiLmn01jXbI/AAAAAAAAADk/Yn6qmi55qcE/s1600-h/IMG_0647.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SiLmn01jXbI/AAAAAAAAADk/Yn6qmi55qcE/s200/IMG_0647.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342085679887375794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The big comeback&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny how I think it is human nature to be able to measure.  We seem to need to know the starting point, the length traveled, the time traveled and the end point.  Even when we say that we are “in the moment” we still seem to know how long we stay in that moment.  So it is with me as well. From the last race to the next, how long is recovery from surgery, when can I start training, how far can I go, when is the next race, what time do I need, what time do I want to feel  successful, how long to recover from that race to the next.  &lt;br /&gt;I decided from the realization that my body was going to need some help that I would take each measurement seriously.  I would commit to what each expert told me. I had, after all gotten the best team and made sure we were all on the same page so I could trust what every one said.  I also decided to define what would be success with each step.  The first was getting through the surgery. Success would be no complications.  While a there was a little surprise, no other problems came up so success.  Next, getting through the first week.  I was allowed to walk so I decided to make each walk with some goal in mind.  The first week is to increase the walk by a few minutes each time. While some days were harder than others, goal reached.  Also getting my body to get over the affects of anesthesia and pain medication seemed to be a major accomplishment.  &lt;br /&gt;Once back home, I realized I needed a plan.  I had been living the past five years by a well defined plan each day. Every day I knew if I was running, biking, swimming and how far or how long. I organized the rest of the family needs around that plan.  I decided to keep that time open for training only now my training looked much different. I still followed protocal for endurance sport. So I would walk. First, started with 30 minutes. Success.  Each week I added 10 minutes to one of the walks. Success.  I worked my way up to an hour, then two and finally three. Success.  In each walk, I tried to find the littlest challenge and then celebrate each small victory.  I did all the prescribed stretching and rehabilitation exercise.  The time then came to set a goal.  &lt;br /&gt;With permission from the doctors, I set a goal to walk a half marathon.  I could have made this hard as I RUN marathons.  Instead, I stayed thankful that I was moving and certain that I would find joy in whatever I could do.  Then I got permission to jog a few minutes with the promise to stop if pain came up and for only 5 minutes at a time.  Success!  I had made it to the next phase of recovery.  I decided to stay grateful for what I could do and certain that more would be revealed. As I jumped into the half marathon as a walker, I just stayed excited to be a part of the magical energy of hundreds of people facing there own personal demons and realizing there own strength.  Victory!&lt;br /&gt;Before I knew it, I could once again mount my two wheeled steed.  It was harder than I expected.  I soon realized that the success here would have to be redefined.  Baby steps would be required and expectations altered.  After taking stock in what was possible and what I was determined to feel, I set smaller goals. I stayed within myself where I was not where I had been or where I wanted to be.  I knew I had to find some victories.  While it took some time, soon I would go a little farther or climb a little stronger than the last ride. Success!  While I never was certain that I could or would ride like I had, I was still achieving a little each time and for that I was thankful and excited.  That was my new measuring stick.  &lt;br /&gt;Back in the pool; my coach was comforting, reassuring and certain. In her eyes, I was still an athlete and she treated me as such.  In her, I believed even when I was not sure where to begin finding success somewhere between 1 and 25 meters.  I had worked so hard to feel like I was a swimmer of sorts and now I felt as if I was starting over.  I felt as if my body was hinged at all the wrong places and no part was working the way it should. Coach, however gently assured me that things would come around and then would hand me an “impossible” swim set.  Where was I going to find a victory here?  She found them for me.  Just get through a swim set – victory, have better form – victory, set and make an interval – victory. Before long and just as she had said, things began to feel normal and even strong. Success. The goal was to make each practice – success. Then add in an additional practice – success. Over time I was no longer just trying to see old splits, but now I was seeing all new times. Success!! &lt;br /&gt;The time came to get back in the game. I would not doubt. I would not question. I would have a plan.  This is the benchmark.  This is just to see what is there. Does the fire still burn?  Is there still purpose?  What can I learn?  This would require to new measurements.  I would not look back.  I would not look at others. This is my journey. It always has been.  It always has been about who I am, what I can do, who I can be. That is it at the core. That is all competition really is; a way to measure where we have been and where we are going and who we become in the process.  It is never about who is in the next lane, who else toes the line or rolls up next. What makes it competition is that each person has chosen this as a way to be on that journey and the energy that is created propels everyone forward.  The race was decided and a new plan formulated. I would be the director this time, I would make the calls, I would shoulder the responsibility for my path.  I soon learned that I was listening to my body more than ever. Success! With new expectations came new confidence and I was willing to do it differently hoping to get different results. Everyone that really knows me, assured me that it was time and that I had always had everything it took to stand on my own. I began to feel a bit like Dorothy in Oz. I was loved, supported and no one questioned me so I ran with it. Victory!&lt;br /&gt;On the eve, it felt like the first time. Did I remember what to do? Did I do all I needed?  Was I certain of the plan?  Yes, all systems are a go with new idea of what how to measure.  I have learned from so many. I took a little from each and a new person was evolving.  As the sun crested over the lake, I felt the familiar energy in the midst of swim caps. It is a palpable feeling of fear and excitement that resonates everywhere just as we move into the murky water.  In that moment we are all sisters and brothers on this path that would not exist with each other. Behind the goggles each person is taking stock in their own fears, goals, dreams, demons and measurements.  The cannon explodes and the dance begins.  Power is realized, strength is manifested, certainty comes into focus and determination sets the pace.  I enter the water with confidence. Somewhere the old panic is not there.  With two hundred other women swimming in the same direction at the same time, there can be some chaos. Perhaps it was there, but I didn’t feel it. I just swam from buoy to buoy. How am I feeling? Where is a clean path, Can I pull a little stronger? Can I kick a little harder?  These are the much different questions I am asking myself.  Take it a buoy at a time. Stay in the swim and be strong. You have done this nearly every day for months.  Gone are the days of fighting for my line and rather I am letting my line come to me.  Before I know it, I see the shore approaching.  Hmmm, that was a little longer than I thought, but I feel great is what I am thinking to myself. Success! &lt;br /&gt;I run through transition and everything goes smoothly. What is the next thing I need? Race belt, helmet, sunglasses, shoes and the bike are all I need and I had prepared them in order. I guess I did remember how to do this.  With each turn of the pedals I feel incredibly strong.  I remember the plan. Measure the bike in 15 minutes. Every quarter of an hour get some calories in and take stock of where I am.  Be aware of the planned heart rate, but more importantly really know how I feel and what I need in the moment.  Within that moment, evaluate the road and decide what gear I need. Those are all I need to think about.  If I find myself needing to mentally wander off, pray.  It is working and I feel strong. When I was hungry I ate and I drank before I got thirsty.  Towards the end I felt some pain in my foot.  I realized I had less than an hour to go so I decided to give myself permission to get off the bike in an hour if it was still hurting. In the meantime, I had a job to do so head down and turn the pedal over.  I turned the corner to get back to transition and there were huge crowds cheering for me and everyone else. The energy lifted me up and I remembered that feeling. Those of us on the other side of the baracades were representing so much for so many people. As we moved through our journey, we were demonstrating to someone what is possible and that is exciting.  I started to cry for the sheer joy of being here when, in the moment, I realized I was still in the race and it was not yet finished.  I had finished 56 miles on the bike at an all new record speed for myself. Success!&lt;br /&gt;A quick stop in transition to drop off my bike and change into running shoes and I am off on a 13.1 mile run.  While the legs aren’t fresh, they are still moving and doing what I am asking of them.  I am struck that less than a year ago I wasn’t sure this would be happening and here I am.  This is the part where everyone gets focused and quite.  At this point, it is about trusting that the pain will pass and really staying in the moment.  I develop a plan. The run is three four mile loops with half of each loop on a dirt service road.  Putting 2000 people on a short route can make running on a dirt road with grass crowded.  So my plan was to run my pace and not get trapped behind a slower pace.  I would keep hydrated by taking something at each of the four aid stations and I would take the run a loop at a time.  The miles ticked off.  At one aid station I got frustrated about not being about to get what I needed.  Someone behind me saw my frustration and reminded me to stay calm and not waste energy.  Like I said, we are all in this together and it is a group effort to realize dreams.  Before I know it, I am on my last mile and on target for a personal record.  I begin to cry.  I am so grateful for the strength and power to do this, for all who have helped me, for all who have supported me and for all who have encouraged me.&lt;br /&gt;Now some time has passed and I have had time to reflect and regroup.  I realize that race recovery is taking longer than I remember.  I also know that devoting the time to recover is vital to the rest of my season.  So for now, I focus on my recovery and letting my body do what it knows to do.  I find myself reflecting.  The biggest realization is that this is not a come back. I don’t want to go “back” to where I was.  I know that I am a different athlete.  The athlete I was would train every session as if it were a race or the predictor of my race.  The athlete I was would never worry about recovery.   The athlete I am has learned to embrace the process.  The athlete I am is all about taking each day as it comes. The athlete I am knows that each day that I move is a victory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-2438595249519221578?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/2438595249519221578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=2438595249519221578' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/2438595249519221578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/2438595249519221578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2009/05/big-comeback.html' title='The big Comeback'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SiLmn01jXbI/AAAAAAAAADk/Yn6qmi55qcE/s72-c/IMG_0647.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-306047823429724643</id><published>2008-07-31T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T02:18:30.377-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The next step</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SJHRMYuxL-I/AAAAAAAAAA0/Pm2gUCO4PIU/s1600-h/IMG_0291.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SJHRMYuxL-I/AAAAAAAAAA0/Pm2gUCO4PIU/s200/IMG_0291.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229190653081104354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SJHQ-hoFB1I/AAAAAAAAAAs/tfdNEMTBX9s/s1600-h/IMG_0290.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SJHQ-hoFB1I/AAAAAAAAAAs/tfdNEMTBX9s/s200/IMG_0290.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229190414950795090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the first surgery, I was back running in 2 months.  I raced California 70.3 5 months later and ran the Boston marathon 6 months later. I did not, however make it to the start of Ironman.  Injuries as a result of continued spinal issues prevented me from getting to all 3 of the races I registered for.  I was also not able to take my spot on team USA for the long course world championships in Holland.  I have had enough of disappointment.  I have had enough of forcing a situation that was not getting me where I needed to be. So I made the decision to to have the next step - a spinal fusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So 6 weeks ago I had a spinal fusion.  I had 2 titanium screws, a titanium rod and some  other device placed in my back.  I traveled across the country to find like minded doctors and therapists to do the procedure.  I needed to have doctors I could trust, that understand what it takes to do an Ironman, that believed in me to get back to Ironman and would encourage me to get back to doing what I love and to finish what I started.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew it would take a year to recover.  I knew that getting ready to race would take another 6 months.  I knew the road back would be all about uncertainty.  I imagined there would be pain.  Other than that I really didn't know what to expect.  I just trusted that my passion and experience would get me to the start line.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pain is better. The range of motion is better.  My endurance is coming around.  I can swim almost 2000 meters. I can walk 7 miles a day. I know that is the baby steps that are necessary to get back to swimming 2.4 miles, biking 112 miles and running 26.2.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are days that I have such a hard time seeing the whole path. How will I bridge up to Ironman from here?  When I REALLY think about it, there are many examples to demonstrate that I DO have what it takes.  I have bridged up in a ride that I thought I couldn't.  I have finished a long brick when I was out of energy and in pain.  I have seen my energy come back when I thought it was over.  I heard it said the other day" the storm will pass it is only a matter of how long it will stay".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how I am in the storm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-306047823429724643?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/306047823429724643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=306047823429724643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/306047823429724643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/306047823429724643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2008/07/next-step.html' title='The next step'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SJHRMYuxL-I/AAAAAAAAAA0/Pm2gUCO4PIU/s72-c/IMG_0291.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-2819415549300216864</id><published>2008-07-04T05:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T05:34:07.384-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where have I been?</title><content type='html'>It has been a year since I have posted, WOW!  So much has happened.  Well I am back on the journey.  I think for the last year I have just been holding on with a death grip to what I thought I wanted and what I knew I wanted. I proceeded with blinders on and went full speed ahead. Well I think it is time to take a look at the result.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-2819415549300216864?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/2819415549300216864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=2819415549300216864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/2819415549300216864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/2819415549300216864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2008/07/where-have-i-been.html' title='Where have I been?'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-3594043840431950198</id><published>2007-06-19T17:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T02:18:30.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crossing over</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/RnhxCXjcMbI/AAAAAAAAAAc/WB6ywGHh0kM/s1600-h/PIC-0067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/RnhxCXjcMbI/AAAAAAAAAAc/WB6ywGHh0kM/s320/PIC-0067.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077932865356575154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crossing over 6-07&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For today, I won’t accept less than taking it to the next level. I have been doing triathlons long enough to know that all you can bet on is the moment so any manifesto will be said with a “just for today” attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just coming back from an Ironman retreat all by myself. In that time, I got to meet some greats of this sport and train on the same roads and in the same pool as those “greats”. What did it all mean to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had the chance to face some of the “demons” of my past that I never thought I would. Seems the “bad place” is not so bad and the boogiemen that my childhood brain would remind me of on occasion no longer exist.  All of this, I discovered on the vehicle of choice to remind me of who exactly I really am – my bike. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bike reminds me that I am strong. My bike also knows me so well. When I give up, she does too. When I re-group, she does too. She is that friend that never mocks, but quietly say’s “ok, but I am not sure this is such a good idea” and lets me rediscover my resolve and then replies “thank you, I was waiting for you to come around.” Sometimes, she not so gently replies” nope, you are not getting off the hook that easily – you’ve got more I know it”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am reminded of why I do this in the first place. I have an unending desire to EXPERIENCE my potential. The funny thing about this is that with each “potential goal” reached, the “potential for more is increased; thus the never ending cycle of adventure and discovery. This is MY way of life. For those of us that chose this path, it is OUR way of doing this thing called life. What I discovered is that it matters not where one is on the path – we are all the same and it is good to be on the path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we spend so much time deciphering what makes us different from others rather than choosing to see what similar. To know that we are really all connected and the same makes that elusive “potential” ever present.  “We” (rather at the top or somewhere in between) are no different.  We have all chosen this highway to live our life The ups are the same as are The downs, the choices as well as challenges. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What an incredible chance I had for me to “meet myself coming and going” this weekend. To go from revisiting the land of my fears to insight of my future all in one day was the chance of a lifetime. And what came out of this?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resolution that Ironman is a outward demonstration of an inward decision to devour all each day has to offer and throw my hands up and scream at the top of my lungs on each loop and dip of this ride called “LIFE”!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-3594043840431950198?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/3594043840431950198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=3594043840431950198' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/3594043840431950198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/3594043840431950198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2007/06/crossing-over.html' title='Crossing over'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/RnhxCXjcMbI/AAAAAAAAAAc/WB6ywGHh0kM/s72-c/PIC-0067.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-6420441742528394528</id><published>2007-04-09T21:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T21:19:03.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Taper time</title><content type='html'>Oh back in the familiar cycle of training, tapering and racing. I am so grateful for it because during the taper there is that brief time where I feel as if I can breathe.  It is as if there is an open window to the link between the universe and myself. Emotions are high, anticipation is on edge and the nerves are fresh.  Yep, this is the time when I seem to get sentimental and I love it. It is the time when I feel more than I feel at any other time except during the race. It is the time when I feel connected to everything and everyone and I am most introspective.  It is as if I have a bit of extra space to take a look around and make sense out of what and why I do what I do or perhaps it is the other way around and I do what I do so that I can take this extra space.  Either way, it is a time when I have just a bit of extra time to think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been struck lately by the generosity of others. Not generosity in the usual way of giving things or even time but, generosity in the sense of sharing one’s life with others and even strangers.  We live in a time of glass houses. There is reality television and the Internet, which are all avenues into voyeurism.  There are opportunities to see the nastiness of humanity exploited. During this time, however, I have seen some amazing acts of heroism.  I saw a family face the loss of an infant tonight and chose to share their grief and healing with the world. I was struck by what faith and hope it gave me and could/would give others.  I have seen dreams followed with a song of an inspiring idol and inspiration in the unchartered waters of a dance step. Oh sure, there are plenty of staged scenes and sharp corners. It is just what does one need to get at the moment that shines through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have listened to an interview of a champion. I was moved to tears by the generosity of this athlete. While some chose to stay until they can no longer go and then leave without so much as a “Godspeed”, he came back to chart the course. Peter Reid raises the bar of Champions so high that few will have the courage to attempt to reach it. With the same grace and humility he competed with; he reaches down from the top of the mountain to help other to the peak. He did so without cameras or fan fare. He handed out cups of water and encouragement in the place where he could help the most. Few even knew it was a world champion sending them on their way to realize their dream. I honor him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is what I want to be. That is who I want to be. I am grateful for the chance to have yet another extraordinary example of humanity. I am thankful that the mind will quit before the body, but that the soul will out last them both. I am thrilled to have my soul tickled in the way that only a slight rest from hard work can do. Now I am off the race so that my soul can soar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-6420441742528394528?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/6420441742528394528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=6420441742528394528' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/6420441742528394528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/6420441742528394528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2007/04/taper-time.html' title='Taper time'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-7084777250686775615</id><published>2007-04-09T16:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T16:35:53.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>California 70.3 race report</title><content type='html'>California 70.3&lt;br /&gt;Finish time 5:26 – Half Ironman pr by 3 minutes!&lt;br /&gt;Short version: swim 36:03&lt;br /&gt;                       Bike   2:51&lt;br /&gt;                       Run   1:51&lt;br /&gt;Long version – I did a training camp about 2 weeks ago where I did my last long run for Boston. I felt amazing on that 20 miler, but 2 days later my left leg and back felt as if I had never had the surgery. I was really freaking out about the race. Got lots of Active Release Therapy and massage and encouragement from my running partner, so I sucked it up and went for it. Traveled with another team mate and that was so much fun. As we flew into San Diego, she remembered the scene from Anchorman where he thinks that San Diego means whales vagina.  We start making lots of jokes about the bay we swim in being just that, thus making the theme for the weekend. We go to registration and see many old friends from Ironman. Then back to the hotel to put our bikes together. Linda’s bolt for her seat breaks so there is the mad dash back to the expo for a bike mechanic. He has a bolt for her, but not with him so he tells us that he will meet us at the race site at 4:30a.m.! Saturday we are up at 3am, load up and head out. It is freezing! The good thing about getting to the race early is all the sweet racking spots are available. We get her bike set up, set up transition and then begin to shiver for the next 3 hours. We did not start until 7:33! The water was 56 degrees and so cold. As I swam to the start I remembered to put my face in and get over the shock before the start. The gun goes off and so do we. The swim was uneventful and though I felt as if I was swimming way fast, it was not that much faster than last year so I was a bit disappointed.  Off to the bike and now I am much warmer. As I take off, I feel like I have nothing in my legs. I cant figure out why and am getting passed by everyone. WTF!? As I head down hill at about mile 10 I hear a really strange sound and think I have flatted…umm no but my brakes are rubbing. Oh what a difference that make!  Then as I am approaching the first beastie hill I notice that my handle bars are facing the left and my front wheel is facing forward. While that is great for my back, I am thinking that 2 more hours in this position would not be good for the back. I see the legal bike techs at the bottom of the hill and ask them to meet me at the top for help. Awesome! I will say that I felt so good on the bike. The wind was picking up the last 12 miles, but I was in a good group and everyone stayed steady. Turns out that I went almost a full mile per hour faster than last year.  Back in to transition, I realize I have stuck to my nutrition plan and should be ready for the run. I am nervous to see what the back will do. Well it hurt really bad. My feet started to tingle, then went numb then I just felt as if I was on stumps for feet. In my head I quit Ironman racing forever about 4 times. I had left my garmin on my bike so I had to do it old school. I kinda liked it (shocking for a techno junkie like myself) I missed 2 mile markers the whole time, but still pulled out a decent run (only 1 minute slower than last year, but felt way harder).  I finish and immediately start crying and do so for about half an hour.  Only about 5 months ago, I could hardly walk to the stop sign and now I am back at Ironman.  Of course, when I get to the results I see that even though I had a p.r., I placed lower than I did last year. The competition is brutal and I am hungrier than ever to do better. So much for never doing Ironman again, as I take a slot for Ironman Florida.  Even through the “post race depression” (as I have begun to call it), I am thrilled for the ) pr and humbled by the talent at these races. I sat through the awards and to the 50+ year old women just brought tears to my eyes. There were many sub 5 hour times and those women looked so very cool. Last year I sat at awards and was so envious of the pros and podium finishers. This year I was just proud to be able to be in the same freezing cold tent with them. That kind of talent is amazing. Now off to Boston and then rest for Florida!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-7084777250686775615?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/7084777250686775615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=7084777250686775615' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/7084777250686775615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/7084777250686775615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2007/04/california-703-race-report.html' title='California 70.3 race report'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-5538646111295321193</id><published>2007-01-28T15:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T02:18:32.135-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the hills are alive!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/Rb1JbtS2r3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/jnJ_Gmd9B70/s1600-h/100_0896.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/Rb1JbtS2r3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/jnJ_Gmd9B70/s320/100_0896.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025253499579314034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been such a long time since I felt like I could organize my thoughts into something that didn't sound like more of the same. In that time, there was not much that was going "my way". Since I come from a belief system that if one believes enough one can create anything - I was clearly not in a good place. I was beliving and creating all over the place and getting "bum" results. I have been in that place before and basically it comes down to when one "hits the wall" the only thing to do is "turn left". So while I was really tempted to park myself at "the wall" (meaning nothing I did seemed to work and I was going nowhere fast"), I also know that those are the times when trust that more will be revealed comes in handy.  I have done enough races to provide the metaphore that there are going to be times that nothing seems to be working. The food isn't working, the energy supplements don't work, stopping to pee doesnt work, the tail wind isn't even making me feel better. These are the times that just turing the peddles over and putting one step in front of the other or just staying in between the buoys is all that is needed to get past it and before I know it time has come to get off the bike, get out of the water or the finish line shows up. So that is just about how I have done life. The work situation isn't going as planned, the relationship situation is frustrating, kids are demanding, friends seem to be distant and - the worst, the training is hard and improvements coming slow.  So much fitness was lost and finding it seems to be taking every bit of the time off.  So this is when I just stay between the shores, keep my eye on the direction I most desire to go and trust. What do I trust when all that around me that I usually trust (even my own body) seems to be just below the bar? That is why I do the Ironman thing. Somewhere in that very long day is the perfect metaphore for any given life experience both good and challenging. So I know "just keep moving forward" and things will change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I went out to do the "Hill Ride". Look I know it is early, that 3 months ago I had back surgery, this was only my second time on my bike on the road (I have been in "trainer hell") and that I had no idea how it would go.  Now these hills are nothing to laugh at. They are long and steep. They twist and turn. They are bumpy and deceiving. Basically they laugh at cyclist and dare you to just stay up right.  They welcome sports cars and those loud obnoxious fast motorcycles and they laugh at the able bodied cyclist.  They seem to be lost  for a south texan athlete - they must have come from Colorado or the East coast. They even house a group of Maples and a park called "Lost Maples" .   So here we go. I figure if I can stay up right on these, I have a good chance at doing the same in California in March. So up I went. The first one giggled, the second sat up right and took notice, the rollers in between growled and made fun of my certainty and finally the third laughed and tossed some little rocks of the cliffs to mock me.  My back squealed, my legs yelped and my shoulders cried. My mind.... ha my mind changed. I grew more stubborn. I became pissed that these hills were determined to make me think I was weak. How dare they? What did I ever do to them but show them the attention and appropriate fear. Well not again! They would not break me. I would, somewhere, on that road remember. Remember, my strength and fortitude. I would remember that I was - NO am AN ATHLETE!  That I have a purpose. That I am a representative to all those that wonder what is possible. That I do this to remember that life can change with every breath I take. That it is never permantant.  That no matter how much I feel like my power to create has taken a vacation - it hasn't. That all I need to do is keep moving to be reminded. That what I did today is make up my mind to do this step and I DID it. That all of this dreaming of Kona is only one part of this amazing journey. So while on most of the decents I held on for dear life while the hills mocked me...the last one I Owned and with that I released the brakes and OWNED my destiny. TAKE THAT HILLS...till we meet again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-5538646111295321193?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/5538646111295321193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=5538646111295321193' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/5538646111295321193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/5538646111295321193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2007/01/hills-are-alive.html' title='the hills are alive!'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/Rb1JbtS2r3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/jnJ_Gmd9B70/s72-c/100_0896.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-1554923133402207812</id><published>2006-12-31T16:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-31T17:33:49.495-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Daring</title><content type='html'>So I get released, start training, get my first 4 mile run in and then fate hits. I come down with Pneumonia. Full blown massive fever, chest pain, vomiting, coughing and dizziness.  I lay in the clinic getting the bad news, antibiotic shot and a head full of "what now's".  So I am couched, again!  With nothing else to do to distract myself from the pain of a herd of elephants that have taken up residency on my chest, but watch movies I have had some interesting thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have watched a plethora of movies like Rudy and St. Ralph that portray the message of "Dare to Dream".  I began to think of what it means to "dare".  Dreaming seems to be easy, but why are great things referred to as "dare to dream"? The definition of dare is "make bold: take upon oneself; act presumptuously, without permission".   Now thing start to make sense.  Big goals typically are bold and in order to even think it possible there must be some presumption and usually without evidence that would lead to success.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What strikes me as the real lesson is that the success is in the "daring'. It is in the willingness to see beyond what the evidence would insure.  The lesson for me is in that the victory is in the dreaming, it is in taking the steps towards the dream. It is in staying committed to the process of the dream. That is the expressway to the soul; the toll is presumptuously staying on the path even without permission from evidence of the final destination. This is the road I choose...even while on the couch. Now I train the brain and the body will follow when it can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-1554923133402207812?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/1554923133402207812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=1554923133402207812' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/1554923133402207812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/1554923133402207812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/12/daring.html' title='Daring'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-116723819312820044</id><published>2006-12-27T08:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-29T05:37:06.623-08:00</updated><title type='text'>game on!</title><content type='html'>Game On&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am released to begin my training. I will be in pain. I will have new sensations. I will have lost fitness. I will be back in the saddle. Everyone on of us (triathlete or not) experiences pain, new sensations and loss of fitness (physical, mental, spiritual or emotional) at one time or another. I am not special. I am only me.  Sometimes I will hurt more, sometimes it will come easily, sometimes I will be frustrated and sometimes I will be elated. Isn't that how it is. I remind myself that this is the road I chose.  I am part of something bigger than myself. This is my fish bowl. This is my game.  It is not about who else does it, how "they" do it - It is all about how I do it. this is my life, this will define me. Not by results, but by my integrity in the process. It is not the finish line that makes the champion. It is the process of getting there that makes the champion. It is what is learned, discovered, defined, embraced, heard, accepted in the process that makes the difference on any given day.  I am ready.  I know now that even when I could not train - the process never stops. I am an Ironman in my head. I am an Ironman in my heart. I am an Ironman in my soul. It is MY path. Life prepares me for triathlon and triathlon prepares me for Ironman!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-116723819312820044?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/116723819312820044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=116723819312820044' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116723819312820044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116723819312820044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/12/game-on.html' title='game on!'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-116558347195911667</id><published>2006-12-08T05:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T05:12:34.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The lecture!</title><content type='html'>I cant believe I got it again - The Lecture. It is the one that ALWAYS comes right after "they" become baffled with my spine, "I don't know how you have been able to do all that you have" and "I am not quite sure what to do next, maybe we will try ...".  Then comes the lecture. It goes like this "You need to remember that you are also a mom, wife and friend. You are young and have a long life to live". ARRRGGG!!!! Who are you to tell me what kind of life I should live. Who are you to decide who I am. Who are you to even make decision about me just to make your life/job easier. Look I exist to make people like you question your limitations. I do what I have to do so that people like you MUST realize that there is more to life than doing what is safe.  Swimming 2.4 miles with 2000 other people is NOT safe, Riding my bike for 112 miles with 2000 other people, cars, motorcycles and the elements is NOT safe and running a marathon after that is not freakin safe. If not for people like us that push the limits, how would people like you even know what is safe. You are right, I am a Mom, Friend, Wife, ex-Wife, PTA president and black belt.  Most of all I am an IRONMAN. That allows me to be the best I can be at all the other "safe things" in my life. You do your job and get me to back to doing mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-116558347195911667?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/116558347195911667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=116558347195911667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116558347195911667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116558347195911667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/12/lecture_116558347195911667.html' title='The lecture!'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-116510985336949276</id><published>2006-12-02T17:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T14:49:11.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who am I</title><content type='html'>Ok so I may sound like a broken record, I admit this. However, one thing I know is that every great lesson has several mutations before is owned.  So I have had some time running from this kid activity to the next.  Those things that I might have skipped when focused on Ironman, I can attend now.  With three kids, there is a plethora of activities that previously would have been farmed out or just missed all together.  I have found myself trying to make up for lost activism, mommy guilt, forgotten treats and late showings now that training is not my excuse. In fact, (I think to myself), I don't have any excuses so get to the school, field trip, soccer field or playdate.  This has evolved into a need to do everything - extreme mom-a-thon.  Making bread, decorating, getting everywhere on time, shopping for the family, home repair and scheduling, taking on part time projects and so much more.  Unfortunately, there is no finish line with this kind of stuff.  There is no measure of progress.  There is no P.R.  There is no medal at the end of the day, field trip, soccer drive. There are no signs to say good luck as I leave the house in the morning. There are no volunteers handing me coffee from one errand to the next.  The other moms are too involved in there own list of "to do's" to work together. Oh how I miss Ironman. I miss my team mates.  I miss my coach (even though he makes me feel things I hate to feel). I miss my frustration of how and when to take a shower between pool swims.  I miss those long slow rides,  I miss (cant believe I am saying this) those threshold workouts.  So now I just take all those "miss-ing" times and use them to create a new level of certainty.  Perhaps this is serving to make me even more sure of what I want. Perhaps this is serving to make me really decide what I want to do with the next Ironman. Who will I influence?  How will I use it to make a difference. How will I own my next race. Perhaps when I decide this - I will ride, run and swim. Let the healing begin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-116510985336949276?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/116510985336949276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=116510985336949276' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116510985336949276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116510985336949276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/12/who-am-i.html' title='Who am I'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-116446219782405685</id><published>2006-11-25T05:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-25T05:43:17.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh my - physical therapy</title><content type='html'>So I go into physical therapy like some sort of bad ass. I mean come on, I am an Ironman. In comes this giant, bald, very serious man and says to me do this and that. Hmm apparently I don't even stand up right. He also tells me that I have taught my body to do a lot of things the wrong way out of compensation for my back.  Now this is the man that has gotten professional basketball players back on the court, so he knows a thing or 2. So I am learning how to stand, walk, sit up and move all over again. I was very sad at first. It just seemed like my days of Ironman were so far off. Now I remember, I did this so that I could come back stronger. I would much rather take a little extra time off and come back with all new Personal Records than come back with the same ole story.  This is a life lesson that is not fun. There are days when I throw major tempertantrums. But each day, I settle in to baby steps. Each day I realize that this is not that different that Ironman. While we look at swim splits, bike splits and run splits; it is easy to forget that each of those splits starts with one stroke, turn of the peddle and step. So this is my recovery split.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-116446219782405685?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/116446219782405685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=116446219782405685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116446219782405685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116446219782405685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/11/oh-my-physical-therapy.html' title='Oh my - physical therapy'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-116279109862120186</id><published>2006-11-05T21:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T21:31:38.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2 weeks out</title><content type='html'>Post surgery&lt;br /&gt;2 weeks out. Some have asked me to capture my thoughts. To be honest, the pain of surgery and the pain of dropping out of the end of the season was more than I could capture in the moment. The last weekend of the season has come and gone and now I feel as if I have some perspective.  Funny thing about this mode of transportation called Ironman I have chosen to get through life – as much is revealed after as is during; a sort of hindsight magnified.  As I watched them cross the finish line of the race that was to be mine, I was sad and angry and frustrated. Yet, somehow I know there is a method to this. In this process I have become hungry again. In fact I am freakin’ starving. The fear of having something that answers my questions of who I am taken away from me has made me fiercely protective of it.  It occurred to me that my spine resembles all the twists and turns of my life – literally.  The curves of my spine are like those of a life that has been taken and shaken. The cracks of forcing something not to be forced are the same as those caused by a young man driving too fast and the tree that seemed to magically appear. So while the surgery was minor to some, like any serious endeavor has caused a time of reflection. Forced slow down, has allowed, in fact screamed for evaluation.  I noticed some things I never noticed before.  I may only be able to walk on the same streets I have always ran on and now I notice the houses and trees.  Afraid of losing the feeling of freedom as I run and ride, I notice the same butterflies, bunnies and deers are still out there watching me.  “Now you are noticing us” they seem to say.  While I would much rather “race” them, there is something to be gained from standing still with them.  Appreciation is received from both.  I realize I have rarely stood still.  I realize that with any goal I have set, there has been not only the call to action, but also the call for reflection.  Whether having babies, getting married (again), running marathons, getting my black belt and then the second; I have always been called to grow by the very thing I thought I was controlling.  As such, Ironman has done the same thing in the largest way yet.  Even when they said the vertebrae was crushed, they would not operate. Yet because of my hunger for the island and my never-ending frustration with being just below the line; the spine caved just enough for the soul to give.  Enough to stop me, enough to force me to ask, “ Ok what is it I am to learn?” As has been my experience, Ironman not only holds up the mirror, but a giant magnifying glass as well.  There are times that I dig my heel in and refuse to budge and Ironman graciously moves me to the place I must go.  Now it is patience. Never one to be patient, I realize that perhaps this is my Achilles heel. Is this the way it will be?  I would not wait for my heart rate to settle, so I pushed to over training.  I would not wait for the recovery time, so I would get sick to force recovery.  I would not trust the path, so I would tumble. And so on, until Ironman said sit down and own this.  The watts faded and the pain grew and the docs all said it was time.  So now I sit and watch Ironman and races and know it is not my time.  If I don’t learn from this – Ironman will make me sit more. It will not be forced, controlled or manipulated. I chose this, I called upon Ironman to forge me and it was up for the challenge.  So I will find out how to be patient- for now.  I suspect I will continue to do life like the bulls of Spain.  I will run over some, charge the roads and forge new paths until the time comes to be controlled long enough to learn and then prepare for the next step of the journey.  I am corralled for now, in preparation for the next step as Ironman will take me by the hand and say it is now time. The cannon will sound again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-116279109862120186?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/116279109862120186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=116279109862120186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116279109862120186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116279109862120186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/11/2-weeks-out.html' title='2 weeks out'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-116195066953102591</id><published>2006-10-27T05:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T05:04:29.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty and strength</title><content type='html'>Beauty and Strength&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, for a long time have struggled with the “beauty” ideal. What red blooded American woman hasn’t? In fact, what global woman hasn’t? According; to recent studies, not many woman have avoided the “struggle”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2005 Dove Global Study&lt;br /&gt; _. A comprehensive 10-country research that surveyed 3,300 girls and women between the ages of 15 and 64 in Brazil, Canada, China, Germany, Italy, Japan, Mexico, Saudi Arabia, the United Kingdom and the United States of America._&lt;br /&gt; _. Commissioned by Dove to explore self-esteem and the impact of beauty ideals on both women’s and girls’ lives.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The findings speak for themselves...&lt;br /&gt; _. 90% of all women 15-64 worldwide want to change at least one aspect of their physical appearance (with body weight ranking the highest)._&lt;br /&gt; _. 67% of all women 15 to 64 withdraw from life-engaging activities due to feeling badly about their looks (among them things like giving an opinion, going to school, going to the doctor)._&lt;br /&gt; _. 61% of all women and 69% of girls (15 to 17) feel that their mother has had a positive influence on their feelings about themselves and their beauty.&lt;br /&gt;You can help change this.&lt;br /&gt;We encourage you to read the entire report and share its findings with other women and young girls in your life.&lt;br /&gt;And yet, what I found through triathlon, marathon and ultimately Ironman, is that doing incredible things seems to temper that feeling of doubt and fear and hopelessness. It is replaced with strength and reassurance and hope.  I recently watched the Ironman World championships. A self-professed professional triathlete groupie (I cant find another word to describe the respect and amazement I feel for the women who go before me on that path other than groupie), I was taken aback by one simple fact. These women looked more beautiful after crossing the finish line of this 141-mile race than they did at the start line. Ok so lets be clear, the start line is at 4 a.m. I am not sure even God looks good at 4 a.m. However, these women were glowing at the finish line some 9 hours later. Now having done a few of these and knowing how these women accomplish this race, I can speak from experience. They are not out there “do dahing” – they are balls to the wall racing. And yet, they come across the finish line looking as if they had just had facials and massages at the spa. They were glowing. In fact, watching one of my team mates come across some time after the professionals (and just viewing her pre-race pictures), she had the same look about her. Now I know that Hawaii is a pretty spectacular place. And I know that these women did not stop off at the nearest spa to get quick facials before finishing. And I know that finishing an Ironman is as close to Labor as anything I have found.   I have done both several times over. So there must be something else going on here. Could it be the willingness to take on something greater than themselves or at least that greatness that has something to do with beauty?  Could it be that moving at the very best of ones ability just for the fun of it has something to do with beauty?  Could it be that looking at food as fuel and eating what one needs to do something great has something to do with beauty.  Not one of the women had the “Hollywood” standard of beauty.  Certainly, most were thin, but few had the overly enlarged lips and breast that we see on television, movies and magazines. Not all of them had incredibly long legs (except Michelle Jones who won). To be sure, all of them were incredibly beautiful and worthy of any catwalk and camera. Having crossed a few finish lines and walked a few catwalks; no catwalk compares to an Ironman Finish line!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while I recover from back surgery, I have lots of time to remember how important it is to do things bigger than myself. How moving for the fun of it makes me more beautiful than any needle, scapula or diet.  That when I get my hair done, look at the next fashion trend and get my nails done, it is not to make me more beautiful, it is to do one more thing for myself that I enjoy. It is to celebrate the beauty that exists because on the road and in the water, I have met that beautiful person. I have experienced my beauty, my strength and my hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-116195066953102591?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/116195066953102591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=116195066953102591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116195066953102591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116195066953102591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/10/beauty-and-strength.html' title='Beauty and strength'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-116092538357228684</id><published>2006-10-15T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-15T10:11:50.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cop out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/"&gt;dawn's journey&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so sick of people using the "don't you want to be around for your kids" theory when I am thinking of continuing to compete in Ironman. Like that is going to take me away from my kids some how. What if it did? Then wouldn't I be teaching them to live full out?  Wouldn't it be better to show them that living life to the fullest is the best way to live.  Do I want to show them that I lived life "safely"?  Hmmm I can hear it now..."She lived life safely - unfulfilled, but safe and then she was with us for a long time while she wondered "what if" she had done it her way."  I think that when people tell me to think about being around for my kids they are using that as a cop-out to do big things. I think it is then about fear. I would much rather demonstrate to them the value of living life to the fullest. To leave it all out "there and give it your all - all the time"!  Anything less than that is a cop-out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-116092538357228684?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/116092538357228684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=116092538357228684' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116092538357228684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116092538357228684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/10/cop-out.html' title='Cop out'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-116048316043706833</id><published>2006-10-10T05:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T05:31:00.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>risk</title><content type='html'>Risk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about risk. The risk of losing, the risk of surgery, the risk of racing, the risk of winning, the risk of resting and just risk in general.  I am convinced that most people don’t like the thought of risk. For most and for me sometimes risk really means something bad and scary.  I am looking at a bit of risk at the moment. It is such a different type of risk that that I have faced in the past.  For some reason, it is so easy to forget the rewards of facing risk and only remember the fear.  In all the times I have faced my fears and taken the risk, I have learned so much about myself.  When I faced the entry form of Ironman, there was tremendous risk involved.  When I first put on my sparring gear, there was tremendous risk involved.  When I decided to have children, there was tremendous risk involved.  When I entered into each relationship there is tremendous risk involved.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the risk; the fear of loss, the fear of failure.  I remember the fear of not being able to finish.  I remember the fear that I would be hurt.  I remember the fear that I would be a horrible mother. I remember the fear of giving my heart and soul and losing them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, each time I have looked risk square in the face, shaking in my shoes; I have experienced great rewards.  I have faced fear of loss and found love, I faced fear of failure and realized some success.  I faced fear of motherhood and found a hug from little arms, I faced the fear of commitment and found strength.  I faced the fear of the starting gun and found the finish line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interesting thing about the relationship of risk and reward is it pays interest.  Each time I stood up to risk, the rewards allow me to face more risk, to dream bigger and expect more.  Each time the dream is bigger, more is realized of who I am and who I will become.  The more I become the more risk I am able to face.  And the cycle goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will always be risks in life.  There will always be the question of “what if”?  There will always be the chance to play it safe and be conservative.  There will always be the opportunity to miss out on meeting myself at the core and realizing that there is an amazing woman there.  So for today, I chose risk. I chose to see beyond the speed bumps and dream big.  I see that there is more to me than meets the eye.  I see that I can step out there, lead with the chin, stand on the edge of reason and take all that comes at me and succeed.  In that, I will be prepared for the next chance to stand in the spot and see more of me. Bring it on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-116048316043706833?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/116048316043706833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=116048316043706833' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116048316043706833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/116048316043706833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/10/risk.html' title='risk'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-115957886698900066</id><published>2006-09-29T18:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T05:05:35.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dawn's journey</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3733/3862/1600/dawn_elder.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3733/3862/320/dawn_elder.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I was wondering about the reason to do Ironman. I have a core belielf about doing things that lead others.  I think about all the greats in history that have lead others to be great and the "ww_d".  All have done amazing things that lead others to see and do more that what they believed in themselves.  That is why I started Ironman. It was the biggest thing I could think of doing. I hope that I can be an example to others of what is possible.  I fear; however that all people see is that woman is crazy. I guess when I think of the greats they were thought of as crazy as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-115957886698900066?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/115957886698900066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=115957886698900066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/115957886698900066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/115957886698900066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/09/dawns-journey.html' title='dawn&apos;s journey'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-115889646718664477</id><published>2006-09-21T20:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T05:02:02.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ironman means even more - IM CDa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3733/3862/1600/100_0044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3733/3862/320/100_0044.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.  Ok so here is the race report…it is going to be long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived in Spokane last Wednesday to cool temps and just the perfect training weather.  Coming from Texas, there wasn’t anything better than cool temps and I was certain that my high heart rates would go away for the race.  We had 8 members of our team here including the “coach”.  Wednesday afternoon three of us put our bikes together and rode about 40 miles of the course.  That is where I got a taste of one of the “hills”.  Seemed like several before it, but this one is 2 miles long! Somehow we didn’t see the next one.  Rode back to the house and did a quick run.  Next morning, some of us ran on some trails that were just beautiful.  Then we all met at the lake for a swim.  By that time the wind had picked up and that was the hardest swim I have ever done.  I just kept telling myself that was as bad as it could get and that the race would be different.  After that my full on Ironman junkie and groupie personality came out and I pretty much camped out at the Ironman village.  The energy is just amazing and I just sit there in awe of all the athletes.  The panic had happened the week before so while everyone looked fitter and faster than me, I was able to still have a good time.  Friday was a rest day and Saturday was all about bike check in and getting that last little brick to test out the race wheels and open up the systems. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Race morning was calm.  Up early, made my sandwiches, got my team mate/ room mate up and we are off at 4:30 to get to check in by 5am.  I really had wanted a good parking space and when I got it I knew it was going to be a good day.  Body marking and then to transition to fill up my bags when I realize that I have left ALL my water bottles at the house 40 minutes away!  I panic, run to my teammate at the same time she realizes she forgot her’s too!  We call her husband and he is on it. We finish airing up tires and then start getting wetsuits on.  Her husband gets there, all is better and now down to the swim.  I find our other teammate that is an Ironman virgin and she tells me that she has been puking all night long.  Seems the stomach bug that has had her family found her Saturday night.  I am devastated for her.  She is going to try so I go line up next to my coach, in the front (now I know I am losing it or at least going for it).  I take a deep breath cannon goes off and now I am in the chaos.  I only got kicked once and had to swim with my head up for what seemed like forever.  I finish the first lap (everything is 2 loops) in 33 min. Now back in the water.  I am wondering where the “fast feet” are but I am doing the best I can.  Out of the water in 1:09 (swim pr by one min). off to the bike through transition.  I didn’t go in the tent this time and that seemed to shave off some time.  I could sit in the grass and pee while I am putting my shoes and helmet on… that is multi tasking.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bike, I get passed by one of the guys on my team (I beat him out of the water?) then another and go with them for all of about 5 min.  Now I have to work it on my own.  Up to the 2 miler, I can do this and I am just so happy to be in Ironman once again.  I pass another teammate (he beat me out of the water?) and I am alone again.  The second hill is brutal.  This is where I see a rider on the side of the road with blood everywhere.  They must have just gone down so I scream down the hill screaming for a medic.  They know so back to the ride.  Later I come to an out and back and I see the other 2 guys so I am holding my own, but getting tired.  First loop done in 2:51.The second loop starts and I know that the head wants to stop.  Just keep moving I tell myself..  I stop about 7 miles later, because my bladder and bike are not getting along and I straddle the bike to get things “moving” to realize that I have now peed all over one of my water bottles.  EWWW gross, such is the sport of Ironman.  At the next aid station I clean it off.  First hill, second time, it is now hot and people are dropping like flies. I run into another teammate and we end up together for most of the second ride.  Back to the 2-mile hill and it is way harder and all I know is there is another one and then the head winds, “ok Dawn, stay positive and get her done”. The second hill can’t even feel my legs.  Before I know it I am done with it and now I count the miles backwards to get home. Second loop done in 3:05.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to run.  The course is also a 2-loop course, which is cool because this is where I get to see the pros.  They are starting their second loop and I am starting the first.  So of course I run with each of them for like a nano second.  I get to the first water station and have to walk it…hmmm not good usually don’t have to until after the half way mark.  It is only a bazillion degrees now.  So I thought if I go almost to Canada I would get away from the 90’s and above.  Just keep running I tell myself.  This was mentally very difficult because there were people puking and lying down all along the course.  Coming back on the second loop I see my teammate with the stomach issues sitting with the support group (our families) and I know that she is a DNF and I start to cry.  I have learned that Ironman may be an individual journey, but it is very much a team sport.  It is the energy of everyone there that makes it possible and pulls individuals to see more of themselves.  I don’t know of another time when I am surrounded by 2000 other people, most of whom I will never know their names, and yet we will work together to realize dreams all in one day.  I only wish that would have been enough for my teammate, but Florida will be her day!  So after I cry for 2 miles I decide to buck up and finish because it is not getting cooler.  Second loop I have to really stay on top of my thoughts.  Taking it one water station at a time I get to the finish.  Finish time is 11:28 and one minute off of Florida and 10th in my AG.  When I finish, I see that my sister is there and that was a tremendous surprise.  She lives in Oregon and came over just to see me cross the finish line.  I haven’t seen her in a year so that was incredible.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful for my friends and family.  Thank you to Alyson and all my team mates for dealing with my constant whining and always reminding me that I love this stuff when I forget.  Thank you to my family for knowing how important this is to me and pushing me to see it through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-115889646718664477?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/115889646718664477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=115889646718664477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/115889646718664477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/115889646718664477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/09/ironman-means-even-more-im-cda_21.html' title='Ironman means even more - IM CDa'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-115886425040750637</id><published>2006-09-21T11:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T05:17:58.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ironman Florida</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3733/3862/1600/P1010120.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3733/3862/320/P1010120.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Race Report&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to Panama City beach several days early.  The Ironman Village was already set up, as were some buoys for the swim course.  I was amazed at all the athletes milling around.  We went to the village to register and of course do some shopping.  I would not allow myself to purchase or wear anything “Ironman” until this race.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to plan, I swam part of the course and went on a short ride and did an easy run.  All systems were a go.  The next day I was to take completely off.  That night was the athlete meeting.  I spent most of the time trying to settle myself while be amazed at all the people.  They showed movies of Ironman, had incredible guest speakers and great stories.  Over and over I had to choke back tears for looking like an emotional basket case.  Then they talked about the logistics of the race and the rules.  That is when I got nervous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I was to do another short swim, bike and run.  I got up early and went down to swim.  There were others there and again I realized how nervous I was.  Then on to my bike.  I had put on my race wheels and somehow had disrupted my computer and now it was not working.  I went to one of the bike tents and had some adjustments done.  All seemed to be working.  We went to dinner at the condo of a friend that was also competing as well as Nemo's Dh who was volunteering for the race.  That did wonders to settle my nerves, having lost them several times that day.  Thanks – Allison for joining me into my oblivion!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Race morning, I woke up calm, made pancakes, got the family up, ate and headed for the start.  Again, the amount of people was overwhelming and exciting.  Nemo’s DH was body marking and I was thrilled to find him and have him do the honors (he even added some extra art of crossbones that now turned us all into pirates).  Then a final check and make my way to the beach.  I had been instructed to seed myself close to the front as my swims had gotten better and my coaches didn’t want me to get stuck if I could swim faster.  The downside was if I miss judged I would be swum over.  After seeing all the people, I decided it was all a gamble and I would be swam over anyway.  The one-minute warning came and a calm settled over me.  “ I know this stuff and I have done it before”.  The cannon went off and we all waded for sometime to be able to start swimming.  It was scary and crowded, I was swum over and I swam over (although I tried no to).  Once I was hit in the bicep and that hurt really bad.  I was kicked in the face, but because of martial arts training that was not a new experience.  The swim was a 2 loop rectangular course.  Rounding the second buoy, I got a nose and mouth full of water that made me really gag.  We all had to swim with our heads up and I got words of encouragement from those around me that settled me a little.  Then back towards the beach.  I could finally shoot through holes find new groups to swim with.  I felt like I had been in a washing machine so I started to tell myself to “embrace the washing machine”.  Ahhh my sense of humor is back!  At the beach I paused long enough to pee because I have yet to master the fine art of relieving oneself while swimming.  Second loop was better but with still many people around me.  Back in to the beach in 1:10!!! Way faster than expected!!!  Transition was incredible with people helping everywhere!  Off to the bike with a pit stop at the porta potty, thus a long transition time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bike was great.  Computer was still acting up and I was grateful for my Garmin 301.  Between the two I could still get heart rate, cadence and speed.  I was having a blast and my speed, cadence and heart rate were right on.  With so many people on the course, there are lots of opportunities to make friends while passing or being passed.  At a feed station at mile 30 there was a bad crash right in front of me where on person ran into another – wow that was freaky.  At mile 50 I was a little choked up thinking I had trained so long for this and it was going well.  About this time I started to try eat my first peanut butter sandwich (my fuel choice all during training and had always worked even in my 1/2 IM’s) Houston we have a problem- I cant swallow it.  I had to take a bite, put water in my mouth and try to swallow.  Somehow I managed to get one sandwich down for the whole ride – way too few calories.  At mile 85, we had to cross a highway and turn left.  I was ready to pass the guy in front of me right after the turn.  Unfortunately, we had to go very close to some road construction and he lost control and ran into a construction barrel.  His front (or one of them) wheel came off his bike completely and flew up to hit my handlebars, push my brake handle sideways, flip up and hit me in the face and then drop down under my back wheel.  I kept rolling and all seemed to still work.  I pushed my brake handle forward and a group of us started yelling for medics to go back for him.  I still feel really bad for him and hope he is ok.  At that time we hit a really bad headwind.  My speed dropped significantly and I started to just talk myself through the next part of the ride.  By the time we got into town I realized that I was off of my goal time, but still with in my secondary goal.  Into Transition 2, I felt really beat up from the wind and glad to able to run.  Another potty stop and out on to the road. Note to self: pee on the course and not waste time in the john.  The crowds were already big and cheering loudly.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The run is a double out and back.  On the way out, I felt amazing.  I was running slightly off pace, but still felt good and was determined to stay calm and in my heart rate zones.  At mile 6 we ran through a state park.  Being a coastal town, the roads are slanted more than normal and we had to run at an angle.  While it is slight, it was just enough to irritate my ankles that had been giving my problems in training.  (Ok coach- I know that I need to do more stability work I promise I wont complain about it anymore)  Out of the park and on to flatter roads I felt a little better.  The half turnaround is at the finish line with huge crowds.  That was awesome.  I got my special needs bag with a Red Bull in it – yahoo for caffeine) Ok here we go again.  My speed was dropping and my heart rate was stable.  I just couldn’t make the legs go any faster.  I decided to walk only the last half of the aid stations.  It was so cool to meet people along the way.  Seeing the pros fly by was inspiring.  I was really hurting by the last leg back, but I knew the pain was temporary so I just kept running even if it was slow.  I knew coming off the bike that I was off of my 10:30 goal due to the headwind, but I was sure that I could meet my second goal of finishing under 12 hours.  The last mile was exhilarating as the crowds were huge.  I was laughing and crying and running as hard as I could.  Coming around the finish line with my kids right behind me was amazing.  As I crossed to hear “Dawn Elder from San Antonio, you are an Ironman”, I was amazed.  There was Nemo’s DH to give me my medal and all my family.  What a treat!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am at a loss of words to describe the feeling.  I worked so hard for this and it went almost exactly as planned.  I have the greatest friends that supported me in ways I never imagined. I   am so grateful for the experience, my wonderful husband that totally gets it, my kids that accept it, and my friends that encourage me all the way.  I am so blessed and am determined to live this life to the fullest as a result.  I can’t wait for the next one!!! Coeur D’Alene here I come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-115886425040750637?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/115886425040750637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=115886425040750637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/115886425040750637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/115886425040750637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/09/ironman-florida.html' title='Ironman Florida'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-115886415340147025</id><published>2006-09-21T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T05:09:51.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My first 1/2 Ironman</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3733/3862/1600/000_0719.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3733/3862/320/000_0719.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I got to the resort where the race started at about 1 am Saturday. All day on Saturday there were Triathletes all over. I got quite intimidated. Got lots of food and rest and did a little swim and bike just to tap my heart rates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I was up and ready to go early (big surprise), I got to the transition and found I had a killer spot! We were then informed that the water was too warm, for wetsuits. Glad I had swam without it on Saturday. The swim was a giant wave with all the women starting together. It was a beach start (running into the water) - I kept asking myself why I was doing it. A minute later the gun went off and I knew. I love it. The swim was great and I felt so strong. About 400 meters into it I felt my ankle strap with my chip get lose. I grabbed it as it was coming off and held it the rest of the swim. 1.2 miles in 33 min! Oh my gosh was I excited fastest ever and I was so relaxed. Off to the bike and transition went well ( no wetsuit to worry about). Got on my bike and my computer fell off! Grabbed it and put it on and went. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The bike is always my most challenging part. I was with the girls that I went into the water with most of the way. The first part I was with them and had a good peddle stroke and felt strong. Gu every 30 min and water every 10. The pack cleared out at about 20 miles and I knew it was time to work. At about 35 miles I was by myself and felt like I was only getting passed. Keep the mind clear and do the plan... 85 cadence and 160 heart rate. The course was very hilly. I found out that rolling hills in another way of saying long hills. At about 45 miles my mind drifted as did the plan for about 5 or 6 miles. My butt and bike hurt so bad and I was ready to get off the bike. Got my mind straight and went to work as I had some time to make up. The bike course was long and we knew it 58 miles. I was happy to get to the last down hill and get the same speed I had the day before on fresh legs (31 mph)! That was motivating to get me done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off the bike and to the run. Good transition, but got emotional. Started to cry when I say my DH. Then decided not good to waste the energy and then started to wheeze as I stopped crying. WTF, get a hold of yourself. The legs were heavy and lots of people walking. I decided that no matter what I would not walk. I would let some people go and just stay with the plan..Hr at 160-170. The course was evil. 2 long loops of hills. I could never tell who was leading, who was on what loop, I felt as though I saw the same people coming and going 15 times. I saw one girl walking and also noticed her number was 69! I said lets get this done. Turns out she is an ultra marathoner and it was her first as well. We had a chuckle and then were on our way. Just as I was finishing my second loop and thought I was headed back I realized they had added another " dog-leg" to the course to get all 13.1. This was hard, but I would not walk. the last mile seemed to take forever. Came around the corner and saw the finish line and glanced at my watch and realized I was on goal! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hesitant to make a prediction, I had said that I thought that 6.5 or 7 hours would be expected. I would be thrilled beyond words to do a 6. My watch time was 6:01:45 and I found out my official time was the same! My average bike was 18.8 and my swim was 33 minutes. Not sure about the run as we left before the split was added. I finished 11th in my age group and not sure of overall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-115886415340147025?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/115886415340147025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=115886415340147025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/115886415340147025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/115886415340147025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-first-12-ironman.html' title='My first 1/2 Ironman'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-115886401974559228</id><published>2006-09-21T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T05:24:23.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chunking</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3733/3862/1600/DSC00955.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3733/3862/320/DSC00955.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a martial arts instructor that believes in a specific method of teaching.  This is method is useful because it enables the student to learn complicated and multiple moves very quickly.  This method is called chunking.  Chunking can take complicated forms or Katas and combinations and allow for rapid learning.  It requires taking pieces of information and breaking them into small and manageable "chunks" to practice over and over and commit to memory then moving on to the next piece.  This method has proved useful in allowing any student to accomplish true feats of memorization and mastery that make martial arts achievable to anyone - even me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized as I went out on a ten mile training run that this method of learning; or if you will mastery, is relevant to every type of training.  I run along and the conversation goes something like this. . . Just get to the gas station.  now get to the light pole, now to the corner and so on.  Soon the entire run has been "chunked".  A ten mile run is a daunting task for just about everyone.  Throw in some hills and that task takes on a new personality.  I discovered that "chunking" can be used to "master" even that type of challenge.  The brevity of tackling a hill or covering any real distance while running requires a commitment from deep within.  I realized while going along that I had decided in advance which hills were involved in this run and how I was going to approach each one.  An amazing discovery was made going along - each hill looked much bigger from the bottom and mastered from the top.  Much like life, yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The arm workout seemed an impossible task on the busiest of days.  How could the multiple sets fit in to the limited time allowed.  Perhaps cutting some short would yield the results for perceived time limitations.  Perhaps  doing each set a little quicker would provide an extra five minutes to run a last minute errand.  &lt;br /&gt;For certain, neither could give the desired strength results, or for that matter the mental and emotional results that come from a rigorous and honest effort.  Once again chunking this workout seemed to be the answer.  Taking each rep as it was the last and each set as though it was the beginning; the workout went as planned and enough time to ponder on what to do next session was the outcome.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the week plays out before me, I begin to see a correlation.  I realize that in any given day numerous requirements and appointments much be met.  Like learning a complicated kata, if the entire day is to be handled at one time, to say that handling the day is a daunting task is an under statement.  However, if the day is "chunked" and one task handled and addressed one step at a time, the day coasts through my life with little more than a wink of presence.  The message is remembered, that is why we do this.  Let each day in the gym be the playground for life.  Let each step on the road provide the instructions as to how to do this thing called life.  Let each punch or kick be the ground on which the decision to succeed be rooted.  May the discovery be realized the the only limits that exist are the ones that are believed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I run to remember that I am strong.&lt;br /&gt;I strength train to demonstrate that strength&lt;br /&gt;I am a martial artist to never be the victim of weakness again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-115886401974559228?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/115886401974559228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=115886401974559228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/115886401974559228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/115886401974559228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/09/chunking.html' title='Chunking'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-115886392986332193</id><published>2006-09-21T11:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T05:30:15.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>love that body</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3733/3862/1600/20050522_0705_X51.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3733/3862/320/20050522_0705_X51.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOVE THAT BODY&lt;br /&gt;I often find myself comparing myself to the latest super model, 15 year old pre-maternal baby-sitter's body or the celebrity of the day that just got out of rehab or that the papers are commenting on "her weight".  While I know the futility of this exercise, indulging in it seems sometimes beyond my control.  The conversations that take place in my head are ridiculous and go something like the following.  "They can't airbrush all of her she really must look like that.  I am sure that my hips were never that small when I was 15 and that I would give anything for my breasts to be that perky again and my stomach that flat again.  Maybe she did not really need to go to rehab and that maybe she just has great self control. Why cant I have that kind of self control."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while working out I began to ponder this situation.  I wondered why and how I have forgotten the truth.  I may not have pre pubescent hips or breasts and at 36 that would be ridiculous. I do not need to have an "airbrushed body" and why do I revere that? How did I come to believe that the kind of "self control" that causes loved ones to seek medical help is attractive and a sign of beauty.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is that I have an athlete's body.  I have received my second degree Black Belt and have done countless martial arts classes replete with the pushups and drills required.  I have finished seven marathons and run numerous other races. I have logged thousands of miles on my legs and hundreds of miles on my bike.  I have discovered swimming and the many meters that were necessary to learn to love it.  I have began a love affair with triathlons that will be with me for some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My arms show the strength in my biceps that come from the pushups in a martial arts class.  My shoulders have the scars from falling off my bike.  My back shows the muscles needed to move this body in all the ways I demand it to carry me.  My thighs shows the muscles necessary to carry this body over the miles required for training and marital arts.  They also show the scars from training.  My feet have well nursed calluses that have long passed the point of looking good in a strappy pair of Jimmy Cho sandals.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is my body is beautiful and strong.  I have landed more punches and kicks than some and taken more than most.  I have run more miles than most and much less than some.  On my bike I have found wonderful country roads and chased cement trucks. I have swam with the fishes and came out strong enough to ride and then run.  I have run with dogs, bunnies, butterflies, baby strollers, bikes and friends.  I have seen the sun come up while running or riding and seen the sun set while doing countless martial arts combinations.  What more is there that I need?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is that no number on a scale will tell me the truth.  No number on a pair of jeans will make me feel more of me.  No compliment on my body will give me lasting love. The truth is that I do what I do to remember the truth.  The truth is that every mile logged is the best of me.  The truth is that every time the burning in my lungs from climbing a hill resides as I reach the crest I am more of me.  The truth is every time I line up in martial arts class I am more of me.  The truth is that every time I start the first and finish the last lap I am more of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is I am strong in mind body and spirit. I am resilient. I am powerful.  I am beautiful. I am determined.  Every time I decide to tie my black belt, lace up my shoes, mount my bike, put on my goggles, cross a finish line, bow in and finish strong I have decided to remember the truth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-115886392986332193?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/115886392986332193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=115886392986332193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/115886392986332193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/115886392986332193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/09/love-that-body.html' title='love that body'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34813630.post-115886366213105276</id><published>2006-09-21T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T05:19:48.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>who I am</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3733/3862/1600/IronManFlorida022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3733/3862/320/IronManFlorida022.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am finally on the blog world.  I am a 38 year old mom, friend, triathlete, black belt, runner and so much more.  I am a 2 time Ironman finisher. I am in pursuit of a Kona spot.  I am crazy about the journey of life and how Ironman seems to be the very window into the soul that is clearest to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34813630-115886366213105276?l=dawnelder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/feeds/115886366213105276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34813630&amp;postID=115886366213105276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/115886366213105276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34813630/posts/default/115886366213105276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dawnelder.blogspot.com/2006/09/who-i-am.html' title='who I am'/><author><name>dawnelder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01311485589626741867</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ei-WTXNhgrE/SxJzKWqxTgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/MBS3sHsdNek/S220/IMG_0819.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
