Norseman: So You Won the Contest, Now What

As soon as I returned from New Orleans, training for Norseman (which is now 2.5 months away) began in earnest. This included a hillfest of a 90 mile ride and an equally hilly 15 mile run the weekend after the race (usually the weekend after a race consists of "easily spinning out legs" - no time for such luxuries now!).

The ride was a gorgeous tour of the hill country on a beautiful day in which I happily chased my new teammate Trent, who showed no sign of cracking while I tried not to puke for the last 20 miles. After the ride, I immediately drove up to Boerne (without showering, Coachie would be proud) to meet with the family and formalize details about the trip. Dad is the ultimate planner and has figured out the entire vacation, and I am so grateful! 

Yep, that's a 30 year old map from when we lived in Stavanger. What could have changed?

The following day, I ran 15 miles solo, including a 4 mile out-and-back on Kyle Seale, one of the hilliest roads around here. I was happy until I hit mile 12, at which point I blew up and shuffled the last 3 miles back to my car, got in and started crying. Feeling overwhelmed, thinking, oh my God, I'm so tired, this is only week one, Norseman is HARD, what was I thinking, how am I going to do this??? 

In between all this I had been feverishly researching Norseman night and day. The elevation, what the climbs are like, the weather. Reaching out to some really nice people who have done the race before (Ann and Halvard) and asking logistical questions. Not sleeping, not eating, feeling sick all the time, and basically stirring myself up into a frenzy of nerves. (Nausea and nerves will make you think strange things, so thanks to BFF Valerie for helping me through a particular scare there.)

Then you see something like this on Facebook and it makes you smile all day. Of course I'm the luckiest person alive to get to do this!

After the implosion on that run, I cried to Dawn, who told me exactly what I needed to hear. This is not a pass/fail situation. This is a journey. I wouldn't have gotten the slot if this wasn't supposed to be part of my path. Take the days one at a time and embrace the adventure. As always, Coachie is right. So I took a deep breath and shook it all off, and decided to have some fun. This is all about pushing limits and seeing what you can do - and once I entered the right frame of mind, I have been crushing it. I'm proud of the progress I've been making the last few weeks. (I'm still not sleeping but that seems to be something that goes with the territory of Ironman training for me.)

We have a plan that makes sense to me. After some research and discussion, Dawn and I have figured out that I need to build mileage like I would training for a regular Ironman, but to include as many hills as I can on both the bike and the run to prepare for the 16,000 ft elevation gain (!!!). Although only the first 160 people to reach the mountain will get to climb it and go for the coveted mountaintop finish and black t-shirt, we're training like I'm going to be one of those people. So in addition to the usual run training, mine has involved trails (which are not as bad as I thought) and, at the suggestion of Ann, a stairclimber (which is worse). 

With my head back on straight, I'm enjoying the journey and looking forward to this amazing vacation in August. The plane tickets and hotels are booked and I'm officially registered for the race and looking forward to receiving my pack of goodies from blueseventy. 

This makes it official. O M G.

Next up - cheering for Dawn and my friends racing at Ironman Texas next weekend. I've been to the race every year, whether spectating or racing, and I just couldn't miss it, although it will mean moving some training days around. As we've all been on different paths and lost touch a little bit in the last few months, I'm SUPER STOKED to go Iron Spectating with the girls! If you're out there on the run course, look for matchy matchy green Smash and boxes of donuts. :)