Mini Mussel 2021- The Most Wonderful Thing About Tiggers

 And look at that, we have another race to report on!  Woah.  Is life  almost...normal again?  Whatever that is?  I suppose I'll leave that theoretical up for grabs, but either way, the 4th race of the season - Mini Musselman - went off full force last weekend, and of course, we have stories to tell!

Around Western NY, Musselman is really an iconic race.  It's been around since 2004 or 2005, and I popped my Half Iron distance cherry in 2008 at the race.  It's well known for its quirkiness, humor, excellent local support, and swag.  I've done the half iron distance quite a few times - 2008, 2011, 2012, 2014 and in 2019 with a giant PR - and the mini mussel - which is a sprint - twice - once in 2011 as part of double mussel and once in 2018.

The mini mussel is an in between distance - half mile swim, 18.2 mile bike and 3.1 mile run.  Ironman brand took over the half iron distance in 2020, and since I planned on doing Tremblant that year, I signed up for the mini with Greg.  

2020 happened...blah blah blah.  Here we were in 2021.  After Eagleman, I sort of forgot about this race, and to be really honest with you, went through a rough patch in terms of training.  I had conquered the bike with a crazy good result, but my run was sucking ass and I just wasn't having fun at all.  I failed a bunch of run workouts and got really grumpy with myself about everything - was it high expectations?  Lack of self confidence?  What?

I took some time to figure it out.  Bless my coach, who has the patience of the saint - he sat with me while I processed it and offered nothing but support, wisdom, bad jokes, and whatever I needed at the time.  With his help, I was able to suss it out - it was partially physical (as I adapted to aero, it was a new position that worked some under used muscles - namely my neck and glutes - that had to be strengthened).  As I got used to aero, these muscles developed and made the run easier.  It was partially mental - while I have always wanted to do well at the sport, the new world of overall podiums and World's qualifiers led me to a weird spot of placing way too much stress on myself to perform, and subsequently, wussing out and buckling under the pressure (note this was my self inflicted pressure). Lastly, the group I played with back in 2019 just wasn't the same - we are still close but everyone is in a much different spot due to pandemic, life, and injury - while it was the norm two years ago to go play at triathlon all the time....its a different period.  I spent way too much time thinking about the good ole days and looking backward, not forward.

Well, if naming the problem is a good first step, I was full speed ahead.  On my week of play I did just that - I played with some old friends, new friends, and enjoyed the hell out of every workout I did.  I went into mini mussel with no race plan at all - as a prep, I dyed my hair purple the night before, laid out my race kit, no plans to win, PR (who could at this weird distance) or do antything other than PLAY!

As life would have it, 2021 happens to be my year when shit falls apart before the race (I should stop there- I have four more tris left this year so maybe bad luck comes in 3's and I'm good to go now!) We had another family emergency that left us without child care for the race, but by the  grace of awesome friends and neighbors, we were able to go ahead - I am a lucky person to have such wonderful people in my life!!

Pre Race

Race morning dawned early at the ungodly hour of 3am - seriously - who makes a sprint start at 6:30??  Greg and I ventured out to Geneva, an hour trip, to check in and get ready to rock.  When we got there the venue was set up for the big race the next day - which means 300 bikes were racked in a transition set for 3000.  Yay for long transitions!  We scoped out the lay of the land and determined bike in/out and run in/out, set up shop, then connected with the Banter (who wasn't racing, but deigned to be our awesome photographer and sherpa), the Outlaw (who apparently has um, matured, in the past month and is unrecognizable - and now goes by Fred....or  Bob) and all of the RATs.  Once again, I got a ton of "You must be Rae Glaser!" welcomes, which makes me wonder what the hell people say about me that I'm so notorious feel like a superstar!

Pre race, Greg jumped in the water and tore a massive hole in his wetsuit right at the crotch (insert a "That's what she said" joke).  I forwent the swim warm up as we didn't have much time and lined up at the start, where athletes were let off 3 at a time, every 5 seconds.  I caught up with Kate, a fellow RAT who dusted me at Silver Serpent, and made a few jokes about pulling her on the bike if she pulled me on the run (I know - so weird to even say).  Before I knew it, we were off!

Swim: 13:23 1:40/100m

The swim was a pretty standard triangle shape - the nice thing about IM events is they definitely give you enough buoys to site off of!  For the half mile swim we had 7 buoys.  The water was murky and kind of gross but nothing crazy - at least it was nice and calm.  I swam most of the swim alone, and sighted pretty well save for the last turn coming in which veered off to the left.  I felt really comfortable and probably didn't push it enough, but given the way I set up my first race of the season with an over swim, I felt good about it.  I exited out and began the .3 mile to transition, and heard out of the crowd "You're third!" which was a nice boost - now I knew who I was chasing!

I headed into a really quiet transition and quickly donned my gear (yes, I put my helmet on the right way).  I had a moment of confusion as I debated which side to run out to bike out -- I am so not used to being in the front, so was a little disoriented.  I made a quick choice, went with it, and was off to bike!

Bike: 53:23 20.2/mph

I settled
into the bike pretty quickly, easily averaging 20-21 without much effort at all.  I passed local legend Curt Eggers a few miles in (don't worry, he passed me back at mile 16). The first half of the course seemed pretty easy - I had a little niggle in my left glute that concerned me for my run but I kept reminding myself to stay in the moment I was in and not worry about the run yet.  I put out little effort, reminding myself to save it for the run, but also kept the pace right where I wanted it.  As I remembered, the back half of the course was easier than the front half, and I figured I could average about 21 for the bike.  I was wrong.  We made a turn at mile 8, and had a nice descent (yes I rode in aero!) before a right turn along the lake to head back.  And then the headwinds hit.  Nothing scary, but going 18 with effort and thinking WTF.  This sucks. Well, the back half wasn't as easy this time!  Nothing crazy to write - I adjusted my cadence as necessary, paid little attention to power, went by feel, and finished out the ride.  As I came into T2, I took my shoes off and prepped to flying dismount, then second guessed myself at the last minute and regular dismounted.  Of course, my coach was watching - foiled by an audience!  He yelled out - you're 3rd girl! (This made sense, as I never saw another woman on the bike) and 2nd place is 30 seconds ahead!  Sweet.  LETS GO RUN!

Run: 22:48 7:17/mi

So, uh, here's where my true confessions come in.  I rarely blog about transitions because...I'm rather good at them.  HAH.  Famous last words.  I ran by bike in (thank goodness I've learned to take my shoes off on the bike as running barefoot is so much better!) and ran to rack my bike.  Wrong rack.  Crap.  I ran to the next row, and stared like an idiot looking for my run shoes.  WTF!  Where are they??  Finally a kind volunteer walked over and asked my number.  I looked at him like a total idiot then finally at my wristband.  He pointed out my spot (the NEXT rack over) and I ran my bike in, grabbed my run shoes, and exited T2 - with a time of 1:52.  WTF.  This was a rookie mistake.  And....it would cost me.  

But now was NOT the time to worry about that.  As I ran out of T2, I was smiling and determined to enjoy the run.  I saw my coach talking to Curt and he snapped a pic of me, rocking my run grin.  I then remembered I was a SERIOUS triathlete and dropped the grin, calling out something sassy to him.  I then immediately giggled and put my happy face back on.  I was determined not to look at my watch and run by feel - mile 1 felt effortless and I guessed about an 8:00 pace.  I looked down and 7:28!  Woot!  I thought about my neighbor Kelly and her well wishes before the race - to "run like a bouncing tigger!" Oh man.  And here we go!  

"The most wonderful thing about tiggers...is tiggers are wonderful things! 

 Their tops are made out of rubber!  Their bottoms are made out of springs!"

And you know the rest.  This song followed me for the rest of the race - and aside from the fact that its about 45 seconds long, it was a bouncy (uh trouncy, flouncy, pouncy) melody!  Heading into the turn around I saw Kate about a half mile ahead of me (not catchable) and Mary Eggers about 2 minutes ahead of me (well, maybe?)  when I hit the trek back, I made the rookie? mistake of looking behind me and saw two women about 15 seconds behind me.  Uh, no  I hit the gas.  Mile 2 - 7:21.  Yeah baby.  I was starting to feel it now - the hurt locker, the race, the adrenaline!

The wonderful thing about tiggers

is tiggers are wonderful chaps

they're loaded with vim and vigor!

Lets go!!  Mile 2.5, mile 3....I was almost to Mary and had no idea where the women behind me were but I was taking no chances! (Mile 3 - 7:05).  I passed the Banter/Coach and the Outlaw/Fred/Bob - one yelled out encouragement, the other something snappy and sarcastic (I'll let you decide which) and I gave it all I had!  I just missed passing Mary but held off the 3! women behind me who crossed less than 10 seconds after I did!  What a RACE!!  What a RUN!  I was ready to throw up, and also sp darned happy I was skipping.

Post Race

If we leave our hero here, its such a great ending.  Epic race to the finish - overall 3rd woman behind Mary and Kate is not a bad place to be in!  WOOT!

Uh....except that damned rolling start.  Apparently Mary had a bike penalty, which moved me up to second place.  Then...I found out all 3 women behind me started the swim after me, which moved me down to 5th.  Easy come easy go.  It was a crazy crazy race, and I would have loved to fight it out head to head.  Either way, there was less than 40 seconds between 2nd place and 5th - which - you guessed it - was my transition debacle! I can't believe such a silly mistake cost me, but it did.  I also have to laugh because overall, I was really pleased with this race and wouldn't have changed much - I probably could have biked harder, but I was so happy with my run split, and can't ruminate on my silly transition mistake.

Either way, Ironman places to five out.  Uh....in age groups.  Oddly enough, this race forewent overall placement and only did AG awards - which was weird, but par for the course with my podium luck, am I right?? I came in 2nd in my AG, losing out to first by 6 seconds - (learn to transition, Rae!) - and accepted my award with perfect professionalism and SERIOUS FACE.

Overall, a big success at Musselman - I have things to work on going into my next race, of course - which is either Summer Sizzler or Findley Lake - not sure - but I finally found my way back to smiling and playing triathlon, which is the whole point!

The day after the race, I recovered wisely by helping my buddy do his first century ride ever - I got in 82 miles with him (and he epically finished and went over to a 112 mile ride!) and it was four hours of fun. I  then came home and put on a party for nine 8 year old's.  Just another day in the life, right? :)  

Next up - some race in August.  TBD.  Time to prep for a few hilly half ironman's, including World's (OMG) and mainly - have a hell of a lot of fun along the way!

Level 8 IS GREAT!

We've been on the countdown here.  First it was seven...then seven and a half....then seven and three quarters....then it was a STRONG level seven and now its...LEVEL 8!!  ROb has officially levelled up!

....and I've finally given up on the fact that this kid refuses to stop growing.  It doesn't mean I have to like it, mind you.  But its happening.  And as time marches on, this kid gets cooler and cooler.  This year has been another big one of so many changes - loosing teeth, travelling to playdates solo via bike, a school year that was decidedly abnormal, and tons of fun, quirks, and craziness!  Every year is such a wild ride, and its so awesome to be right in the passenger seat, watching this kid navigate life (he reminds me he's halfway to really driving a car now.  Excuse me while I go have a breakdown.

Alright, I'm back!

 As always, it's a time for this mama to not only look back on the last year, but also to take a trip down memory lane to when Rob was born...One...Two...Three...Four.......five....six......seven...

And here we are, at the GREAT 8!

Size: 57 pounds, 51 inches tall. Right on par for where you should be.  I'm not surprised - you are active as all get out and love riding your bike, swimming and running (I wonder where you get that from??) and you east ALL the things .  Not just fun things like lemon cake and chocolate ice cream, which are your faces, but, like, 6 apples a day dude.  You love apples, bananas, berries, broccoli and all the healthy things too!  You can house up to 4 pieces of pizza and have such a healthy appetite!

Likes: Still a cars fan, but now you love to build them instead.  You LOVE Legos, and can build the 600 piece sets with ease.  You also love your bike (and can ride a half mile away to play with Callen too!)  Swimming, playing laser tag, Roblox, Minecraft, and Mario Kart.  You are an expert at building parkour courses and obstacle racing, and also love to play tag and Uno.  You loved your ninja warrior course and summer soccer, too!

You love your video games and really got into Minecraft this year, and the most recent obsession is Mario Kart and Smash Bros...you have a Mario costume you dress up in and go to town on your Nintendo Switch!

You still love dance parties and can really bust a move, and you're getting into strategic gaming - whether it be in real life or on the X box.  Watching your mind put moves together is just amazing, buddy - I love the way your process and the awesome conclusions you come to!

Dislikes: Bedtime and bugs.  Who likes bedtime?? (Well, Mom does but...uh...) and you hae all things bugs, especially bees.  You've changed your mind about some of last years dislikes - you are getting pretty good at drawing, and you love school now, which is AWESOME.  It's not always perfect, but your 2nd grade teacher, Miss O' Hara, was a godsend, and even though we had some bumpy times, you actually didn't want summer vacation to start!  Success.  You also might be coming around on that Biz thing....while you still remind us about the good ole days Pre Biz, you've found she's a pretty good Marco Polo player, joke cracker, ROBLOX builder, and partner in crime.  Mommy needs more Tylenol for that last one!

Sleep: You still struggle from time to time with night terrors and loud sounds, and kick like a damned donkey while sleeping diagonal when we share a bed, but you sleep through the night about 90% of the time - sweet!  You are still an early bird, and most of the time love snuggling with Mom while she sips her coffee at 530am.  I won't lie, buddy, that might just be the best part of my day - snuggling a half asleep ro-bear with my first cup of coffee in the early dawn.  Life is good. 

Eating: You still eat all the things!! You are pretty adventurous when it comes to eating and will try anything once.  You love spicy food, veggies, fruit, and all kinds of ethnic food, even TOFU!  It's pretty cool to watch,  You've gotten into cooking and love helping make dinner, whether is Taco Tuesday, Fry-day, or admittedly, when we nix cooking dinner and order your favorite pizza - bacon, ground beef and pepperoni.  YUM.

Milestones/Firsts: First Ninja Warrior class - kind of like a Tae Kwon Do meets Tough Mudder - and you LOVED IT! Earned STAR STUDENT of the month at Klem North - this was so cool to see!  You love school and have a good group of buddies, and its amazing to see a school give a damn for once - go KN STARS!  First time heading to a playdate on your own - you can ride solo down the road, which is awesome to see.  And this year you also learned to write computer code for Roblox, which is super impressive to mommy!  You still love science and math, and we cracked open the Harry Potter series for nighttime reading, which you also love.  We also started to play a new game - Wacky questions - which started out innocently enough with "What 3 things would you bring to a deserted island"?  Answer - food, water and you (Mommy) cause you'd get us off. Aww, bud.  Its cool to know you think that.  This game continues every night and is sometimes innocuous (fave holiday - Thanksgiving cause everyone's thankful) to "Mommy, if Daddy wasn't a thing, who would you marry?" (Yeah, I dodged that one!  LOL).  True to form, you are a deep thinker, dude, and I love you so much, my lil peanut! You keep learning more Spanish bit by bit and also have picked up on a new language...profanity.  Uhhh....can I blame Daddy?  No?  You're right.  I blame Mr. Senor - Matt, the school called and wants to know what you really call "Minecraft....".....

Best Moment: Probably watching you run off the steps of the bus the day you got star student.  I am ALWAYS so damned proud of you buddy, but that day you were absolutely exploding with excitement and it was infectious.  The good moments are easy, but those moments when you still run to me crying, or are scared, or Mommy's hug fixes it - are so precious to me, buddy.  I know I don't have a ton of time left where I can still "fix everything", so I take it when I can get it.  All the snuggles..  All the hugs.  All the, Mommy watch me's.....Love you buddy.  So so much. 

Looking Forward To: Soccer shots, swimming lessons, camping, and all the summer fun!  Also looking forward to the fall - you cant decide if you want to race this year, go out for lacrosse, do Karate, or take coding classes....but I'm right here for all of it.  All the jokes, the dance parties, Among Us games, Bike rides, Mommy and Rob runs....all of it.  Every singe day I am so darned grateful to be your Mommy, and it's been the most amazing ride I could have ever asked for.  I love you, dude!!

Eagleman 70.3: Two Outta Three Ain't Bad

Well, like most things, the good stuff is worth waiting for.

Not necessarily with respect to my race reports, just to be clear.  But in general, its a good phrase to live by.

Uh....or something.  As it usually goes, veni, vidi....maybe vici...then I went on to other things!  But after events I hoped to bloggy post but lamely social media'd instead....you all reminded me....I have a RESPONSIBILITY to you all.  I'm sorry.   You're right.  I'm dubious I can fit it all in to one post.  But I'm gonna try. I'm sorry in advance for your pain. 

When we last left our intrepid heroine (that's me, keep up) she learned the rookie mistake of not racing her own race.  Check.  I went through a few days of open water freak out - swimming in Lake Ontario in the mid fifty degree water - to convince myself that I could swim in open water without panicking.  Dumbass.  I can.  I just went out way the hell too fast.  Check.  It wasn't on my agenda to win Eagleman, so I'll just swim my own race and call it a day.  That's one hell of a race strategy.  My coach loved it. (Insert Sarcasm).

I travelled down to Cambridge, MD pre race Friday with my buddy Marcus, who I've known for over a decade, but sadly, spend little 1:1 time with.  Pity.  He's funny, a good road tripper, dubious but enthusiastic singer (like me) and has the same penchant for four letter words on the road.  We somehow spent 8 hours non stop chattering (most people think this guy is quiet - I digress!) and covered everything from life to work to kids to training and all the spots in between.  One of the big conversations was obviously around the race - I hadn't spent a ton of time looking at timing goals, so we worked on our race goals - after last weeks swim, I was conservative and guesstimated a 40 minute swim, 2:50 bike, and 1:45-1:50 run, and 5 minutes for transitions, leading to a 5:20-5:30 finish.  I secretly hoped to go a little faster on the bike, as I had *finally* nailed riding in aero, but had only been riding in it for abut 3 weeks (I KNOW, people, I KNOW) , so who knows.  I won't reveal Marcus's goals but the big one was to qualify for the 70.3 World Championship in St. George, Utah.  Holy goals.  He asked me if I was gonna go if I got a slot and I laughed it off.  Dream big but be realistic, people, am I right?

We got in late Friday night (Thank you Pennsylvania road work and traffic, you suck) and got up early Saturday for some course recon, packet pick up, testing out the open water and in general, pre race prep.  I was nervous as hell until a personal life bomb landed in my lap at 8am that I could do nothing about, which took away all my pre race nerves and in general killed my mojo for the race.  Annoying to vague post it, but important in the context of my mindset for the race (Note - I am working through said life hot mess and am resolving it, but being 500 miles away tabled the resolution until post race.  Good for race nerves killer, bad for eating, focusing, or, in general, giving a crap about triathlon).  Thank goodness for Marcus - he was an awesome friend and supporter - both in terms of life and fellow kick in the pants triathlete.

Enough of that.  We got our race numbers (new Ironman protocol for packet pick up made it so that we were rack buddies - this was awesome for me, at least - poor Marcus....and we added our stickers and brought our bikes to transition nice and early.  Apparently, neither of of knows how to apply stickers according to instructions, so we messed up the stem sticker.  The nice volunteer checking us in helped us fix it and the other two stickers were spot on - I joked with him that "Two Outta Three Ain't Bad" and he joked back, Well, Meatloaf thought so! (Little did I know that was a foreshadow!)

With business done, Marcus and I hopped a quick swim in the choppy choptank, grabbed an early dinner, then headed back to the hotel.  I'll admit I was a total killjoy the day before the race and Marcus was awesome, amping me up and being a great friend.  He's a true Iron-man and earned himself a little nickname along the way to boot (LOL).

Race morning dawned early, humid, but not too hot.  As it always is, the word on the street was all abuzz about the water temp, which came through at 75 degrees - wetsuit legal!  We amazingly found a parking spot, set up shop and took care of race morning business.  We joked around with our rackmates, and before we knew it, it was time to line up for our time trial start - which featured 3 athletes every five seconds!  COVID protocols banned a pre race warm up, which was fine by me, and when the gun sounded at 6:45 we were....hangin out on the beach.  Time to do the thing!

Swim: 37:30 (1:46/yd)

After last weeks hot mess of a swim at Silver Serpent, I was a admittedly a little nervous about this one.  The water looked choppy, the 2100 yd swim looked...long...hmmm.  Welp, lets do the thing! I lined up and before I knew it the volunteer gave me a GO and I dove into the drink.  The first hundred meters or so were all about acclimation and the water was definitely on the choppier side, but I found my rhythm and felt pretty good after about five minutes.  I swam from buoy to buoy without much fanfare (there were 15 total so sighting was easy peasy) and had a few encounters with some aggressive dudes who tried to swim over me and even copped a feel (WTF dude) but I maintained my open water calmness and escaped anything crazy, until about 1200 meters in when I felt a sharp pain and some throbbing on my cheek.  I brushed my face, confused, then it dawned on me that I got stung by a jellyfish!  Little sucker.  My face felt kind of sore and annoying but otherwise ok, and I feel like i earned my badass badge.  After approximately a zillion years (ok, less than 40 minutes) I saw the ramp to exit the swim and was off with a swim time that was spot on for my best goal - now it was time to run to transition and play on the bike!!

Bike: 2:38:56 (21.2 mph)

Mounting my bike out of T1 (where, yes, my helmet was on correctly this time, thank you!) I was grinning like a little kid, off to play on my bike.  I settled in pretty quickly - the first five miles or so were full of crazy turns and while i was instructed to look at my power only, I'm human and was eyeing my average pace.  My super secret goal was to average over 20 mph and it sounded ridiculous, but shoot for he stars, right??  The headwind coming out was a little gross but not too bad, and once we hit open road, I settled in and was averaging 20-21 with little effort.  I was passing people left and right and kind of giggled to myself thinking - WHO AM I?- but loving every second.  I took in Gatorade every two miles,  water every mile, stretched out into aero, and enjoyed the ride.  I hammed it up for the cameras, flashing thumbs up, shaka signs, and even a random I love you that was probably meant to be something else, but hey, what can I say.  I did love it.  I was IN LOVE.  Mile 30 and I was averaging 20.8 and I got the crazy wild idea that I might even hit 21 average.  I set the goal to be 2:40 for my bike split, which OMG who am I??  And rode the last 26 miles with that grin still all over my face.  I joked with racers I passed - got passed by Marcus at mile 50 (who got a flat at mile 2, poor dude) and aside from the zoomy disc wheelie guys that passed by me with ease, I never got passed by a woman on the bike.  Ever.  Woah.  Is Rae....a cyclist???  I dunno, but it was sure a blast!!  On the way in I got stuck behind two cars that had no idea what they were doing, which was about the most annoying thing ever, but I sat up, drank, and coasted into T2 with my sub 2:40 bike split, good for a 10 minute PR on the distance at the bike....and it was time to dance!!

Run: 1:54:06 (8:41/mi)

I zoomed out of T2 with so many dangerous thoughts.  Transitions were long due to the bid transition, distance from the water, and having to run around the outside of the whole thing to rack my bike, but going into the run, the race clock was at 3:21.  While I knew I didnt have a half marathon PR in me, I was thinking I could probably do a 1:48ish and come in at 5:10, which would have been a huge PR for me.  I sailed through mile 1 in 7:44....then totally hit a wall.  If you look back to my bike drop of and the title of this post and do a little basic math....the swim was good...the bike, epic.....well, 2 outta 3 ain't bad did not bode well for the run.  It was hot.  There was no shade.  and the way the course was mapped out gave us about 3 feet across for lanes during miles 3-10 of the run, which sucked if you got behind someone.  People were tired.  The layout of the course also featured about 15 easy turns and some pretty gross gravel and potholes in spots.  I was not impressed.  And I'm sorry to say I let the heat and my grumpiness get to me.  My neck hurt from riding in aero (Apparently, going from zero to 56 in three weeks might not be smart).  My glutes were on fire.  I just wasn;t happy.  The first loop I managed to average about an 825-8:30 split, and then the second loop...I walked.  A lot.  First through the aid stations but then the Ironman walk/run thing.  I stopped and let a super hot racer have some of my handheld (she was so grateful).  I played games with I will run until x....and then gave up.  I saw my awesome cousin who drove an hour to cheer me on and that made me happy....until I didn't see her approximately 5 seconds later.  Whomp.  I tried to take in some sugar, but it didn't terribly help.  

With 3.1 miles to go, I settled in on a sub 5:15.  I was at 4:48 for time and this was totally doable.  Yeah, no it wasn't.  I just didn't have it.  I settled in on a sub 5:19 (my old PR) and for the last mile, summoned every give a hit I had to run it in somewhat strongly, for an overall time of 5:17:44, a 90 second ish PR and a completely WTF smile on my face.  

Post race, I caught up with Marcus, who made up for his bike woes with a smokin 1:29 half marathon (Damn, he couldn't have carried me??) and an overall finish of 4:52.  He placed 10th in his AG and I came in 9th in mine, both of us in the top 10% overall for our gender.  Not too shabby for that shitty run and his crazy bike!!  We debated staying for awards but were told Marcus would find out via email and could accept a World's slot that way, so we packed it up and started the 8 hour journey home.  OOOF.

Once we finally made it home, three things happened.

The family crisis was resolved - quickly at first, then thoroughly within 48 hours. Whew.

Marcus got a slot for Worlds and is headed to St. George on September 18th!  WOOT!

And....I'll be with him.  Somehow, I managed to snag a spot as well....which was TOTALLY unplanned and I am still shaking my head in disbelief!  Thank goodness I have the best husband ever, who told me to GO FOR IT!  So I did.  UTAH HERE I COME BABY!

Stay tuned as we tap into WTF is wrong with Rae's run and how do we fix it....and for Mini Mussel on July 10th, next up on the racing docket!

Bicycle Race

 So, apparently 2021 race is season is ON.  I know.  Color me shocked.  After the duathlon, it was quickly apparent that my first Oly Tri on June 6 was on, and then my half Ironman on June 13 was a go.  WOAH.  TIME TO TRAIN!  I know, what the hell had I been doing so far?  I freaked out, then took stock.  Run?  Decently solid.  Bike?  Oh hell yeah.  No aero yet, but that's a damned unicorn, right?  Swim?  Fastest times ever.  It was time to dream big, baby!  

I took the next few weeks of build seriously.  Hit the pool, busted out my speedwork, and even nailed an 19.7 average on the bike for a 30 mile tempo workout. On. Fire.

May 15th came.  May. 15th.  Its the day that'll go down in history, folks.  It's my Doc Brown red letter date.  I can't really explain it, but I had just come off that spectacular ride above.  I was talking to the outlaw about his race that day and specifically, his bike split.  I was due to ride for an hour, easy, with the Banter that afternoon.  I just had had a great run but I felt...flat.  Uninspired.  Tired of the same old bike bullshit.  Sure, I was able to ride without freaking out, but I wont lie, I still hated stopping.  I still couldn't ride in aero.  I still couldn't do anything but bring my bike from point A to B.  I got mad.  WTF was I doing?  I stood up, stretched, and said Self.  (And I knew that it was me, cause I recognized my voice), This is bullshit.  Go fucking ride your bike.  So I grabbed my helmet and gear, and rode a one mile loop around my neighborhood.  I unclipped at ever stop sign.  I dropped into aero at every straight.  I practiced cornering.  Cornering in aero.  shifting to stop.  shifting for my mini hill. 

Then I'd turn around in my driveway and do it again.  Forty five minutes later, the Banter showed up as I was cornering a turn in aero.  Hell yeah.  We went for a twenty mile ride where I started my normal bullshit about riding in aero on back roads.  He goes "Ya know, I'd just love it if you dropped in on Lake and did it".  So....I did.  18 miles of terrifying aero work that also felt....liberating as hell.  I stopped on a dime during the ride.  Stopped for a light.  And then flew, a smile on my face.

Rome wasn't built in a day and neither was my ride.  Every day that week I practiced my technique, which rapidly progressed to bottle hand offs, gels on a ride (I haven't eaten on a bike...ever) and um...flying dismounts (I didn't stutter).  Four days after my version of total immersion, I was full fledged aero riding, able to stop whenever, comfortable one handed riding, and flying dismounting pretty darn well!  Who am I?

As luck would have it, I had a race to test these skills on!  Silver Serpent Tri was June 6th.  I dropped from the Olympic to the Sprint with one week to go - since my Half Ironman was only a week out, I thought it would be better not to trash my legs the day before the race.  Greg was on board, I talked the Outlaw into racing (it wasn't a hard sell) so at o dark thirty, we headed to Perry, NY, to kick off the tri season.

It was HOT.  Forecast of mid nineties for the day and already low seventies at 7am.  We dropped our gear at T2 for the run (this was a two transition race) then rode our bikes down to the lake (also a first for me, riding in flip flops and with a giant T bag.)  Saw so many friends - and new friends!!   It almost felt...normal.  We applied our super cool ace tattoos, and apparently even though I'm now a faster, I'm still a dumbass and put mine on upside down.  With that I went from 38 to "8E" and created a whole new AG, thereby securing a definite win (I uh, planned that).  Offered to help the boys apply their tats and they were somehow hesitant (I don't get it - I mean, I DID make Ryan EE last year at Barrelman so its not like I have a track record 😂).  Uh, somehow I managed to get my gear all set up without hurting myself, and headed down to the swim area.  Snapped a few team pics and some pics with friends, and before I knew it, it was time to hit the water!!

Swim: 14:24 (1:48/100)...maybe

Pre race, I did a short warm up and seeded myself toward the front.  I didn't know what to expect - I saw another racer that I knew was a faster runner, but I wasn't sure what her swim was like (spoiler alert - it was faster than me).  Historically, I have no fear of the swim or masses, so i felt fine where i was. The gun malfunctioned, so the RD yelled GO! and we were off.  I stupidly abandoned my own race right at the beginning and chased the fast swimmers which was...again...stupid.  I know better.  I had grand illusions of placement for this race and I totally forget the cardinal rule of goal setting - you don't know who will show up.  I went out way the hell too fast, forgot to breathe, and found myself 200 yards in, gasping for breath and totally disoriented.  I couldn't right it.  I tried to pause.  Breathe every stroke.  Looked for a kayak and couldn't find one.  Got pissed.  That didn't help.  I finally resorted to flipping on my back and kicking for a good minute.  WTF was this.  This has NEVER happened to me.  EVER.  The water was a little choppy but not even close to the top ten of choppy swims in my fifteen years of racing.  UGH.  I finally got my shit together and brought it in for the second half with my standard steady stroke.  Hit the shore with a swim time of 14:24, well off my goal of 13 minutes (though, according to Garmin my swim time was 13:39, which means there was the 45 seconds I spent on my back).  Disgusted with myself, I hit T1 for the part I was really looking forward to, THE BIKE!

Bike: 36:56 (20.6 mph)

I grabbed my cool looking aero helmet (Thanks Banter!) and headed for the mount line.  Right away, my coolness quotient was immediately negated by a volunteer who pointed out that...I put it on backyards  WTF Rae.  WTF.  An aero helmet, in case you are unfamiliar (see image to the right), has a friggin long duck tail (woo-ooo) that extends off the back of the helmet, theoretically making you faster as it streamlines your position on the bike.  Ya know.  If you wear it the right way and not like some mystical friggin narwhal.  I, um, stopped my bike, uttered a few curses, and was off as a properly chastised Pathetic Triathlete (I sincerely hope someone got a picture of my bullshit.)  Climbed the short, steep turn right off the gate, then onto the main road!  I settled right into aero and started my chase.  It was hot, windy, and I won't lie, my bullshit on the swim definitely burned matches and I had some issues breathing, but this was it, baby.  The bike.  I wanted to - catch some women, bike strong, and rock the aero position.  Which I did.  I never got passed on the bike (actually, after exiting the swim I never got passed...ever.  A first!) and I zoomed down all the hills, including the bendy steeper downhill where I tucked into aero and hit almost 40.  SCORE!  The first 10 miles of the bike were epic, then we hit the town portion, where the volunteers, bless them, were no match for the cars out.  I had to slam on the brakes twice for cars (WTF) and also once in town for a red light (GAHH!!) Even with all of the heat, I managed to coast into T2 with an average of 20.3 if you buy my Garmin, 20.6 per Strava.  I set an overall QOM/course record for the sprint tri segment (WOOT!) and nailed my flying dismount.  (DOUBLE WOOT!)  Found Greg in T2 and he informed me that there was one woman ahead of me at that point...It was time to hunt!

I should also note that....while I did 95% of the ride in aero, apparently, the one time I cornered and got out of aero to pass someone was the split second recorded in eternity.  Note the cool race pics for Greg and Ryan - nice, open field, great shots, awesome aero position:

Then, there's me. 

Mid pass, business face, up close non bad assness.  Typical.  At least I have my helmet on (SMH).  Keepin it real, people!

Run: 24:38/7:58 pace

Well, as history would have it, the run is my strong suit.  Spoiler alert - it wasn't this time.  It was hot as balls out, and I sort of just lost it about a mile in.  Took off at a steady a clip, averaging about 7:30s.  My goal was 7-7:15 pace but with the heat, I wasn't trying to be foolish, so I kept it steady.  I noticed first place at about mile 1, and she was pretty far ahead - and I realized I probably wouldn't catch her.  Totally missed the aid station behind a truck, hit the turnaround about 12 minutes in.  I saw 3rd place on the way back ad she was roughly 4 minutes behind me, so I'll just call a spade a spade and admit that I raced only to keep my position at that point.  I wanted to go under 1:20, as my decade old PR was almost 1:23 for a sprint. I walked the uphills, ran the flats and downhills, and of course, sprinted to the end, finishing in 1:19:14. Which, because its me, the race photography friggin missed, so he asked me to pretend to run through again.  LOL.
Much obliged, you know I gave them a damned show.  Cause, #serioustriathlete, amiright??

Post race, I collected my award (there was no award ceremony, so you know with my track record, I just had to place overall, right?  I cheered in some friends, Greg, and caught up with the Outlaw ( he placed 3rd overall!) and just plain hung out, enjoying the feeling of "back to normal (ish)"?

The three overall women decided to make our own podium and we posed as such - I found out first place beat me by almost 2:00 out of the water, so where I thought I lost my time was, in fact, accurate!

I definitely walked away with some lessons learned.  First of all, race your own race.  Second, leave the damned swim behind you.  Third....triathlon is, in fact, three sports (woah.  I'm so brilliant).

I did find out I set the sprint segment record on Strava, nailing a QOM.  Sweet!  That's (Queen of the Mountain, in case you're a normal person and not a crazy triathlete.  Somehow, Queen had it right - it was, in fact, a Bicycle Race for me!

Up next is Eagleman on June 13th in Cambridge, MD. - its a half ironman, my favorite distance!  Not quite sure what the day will bring but I intend to give it my all!  2021, baby!

NY Duathlon Series Race #1 - Cold as Ice

It would seem as if the pandemic might be the ending of this blog, given the amount I've been writing lately.  Sorry, suckers, it isn't - you're stuck with me.  With the staggering levels of boring adulting going on this spring, I've been YET AGAIN slacking in my mindless athletic drivel.  You're welcome.  Luckily, we can thank Mark Wilson's successful events for the return of the ever famous RACE REPORT (okay, only famous to Erin.  But I love her enough to keep doing it because I like talking about myself "for my public".  The things I do for you guys.

As you might guess by now, I recently paraded around for fun in lycra race season 2021 has OFFICIALLY begun!  I don't know when I've been more excited, nervous, or terrified for a season, TBH.   The whirl of emotions has been real this year, as we all know, and going into 2021, I was a hot mess (what else is new) of thoughts - I CANT WAIT to race again, how do I follow up on the sheer success of  2019, can I still run fast, did having COVID affect my ability to race....ya know, all normal stuff compounded by a world pandemic where life has been turned on its head.

My training so far this year has been consistent but with some hiccups - now that I'm focusing more on the bike and swim, I've felt like my run times have been taking the fall for it (err....not falling.  That's the problem).  My two A races are both not likely to happen, because they are both in Canada (Ironman Mont Tremblant and Barrelman), which has led to a slew of back up planning, back up for back ups, and...well, you know the drill.  I've been doing reasonably well with sticking to my training plan - my swim times are getting faster, I'm feeling better on the bike, and my runs...well. See above.  I'd had a few failed speed workouts and a sub par (in my opinion) lactate threshold test....so I did what I usually do in such situations.  I whined.  My coach told me to suck it up.  I, uh, trained harder.  Doubted myself.  Then turned to the Outlaw for his predictably bad ideas that are always fun.  

Bad idea #1 - spring duathlon.  It's still up in the air as to who originally brought this one up, but nonetheless, with minimal convincing, we both signed up for a May 1 duathlon - produced by the same RD that put on Cassadagaman last year (which was no small feat in 2020!). The race was a short course du - 2 mile run, 10 mile bike, 2 mile run - in Randolph, NY, which was super close to one of my best friend's houses and some of the wonderful runners I met last year during the Run for CF (check out this years challenge - and consider donating!)

I decided to treat this race as a training race - aka, no special taper and a general "fuck it, let's see what I can do" mentality.  I had just come off of a recovery week and felt ready to go - until the Wednesday before the race when, for no reason at all, my legs decided to remind me how I felt post Ironman 2010....I couldn't walk down the stairs without help, and my quads were absolutely killing me.  I trained through it on the bike, scrapped one run (first skipped run in years, which killed me, but apparently was wise and I'm listening to my body - aww, look, I CAN be taught!).  Lest my coach think I'm intelligent or something, the day before the race I packed up, headed out to Salamanca for a day of heavy furniture lifting and a four mile run - cause that's good race prep! (See more race prep photos to the left - I take this super seriously, people).

Spent the afternoon before the race helping my friend clean out her house, catching up on gossip, and laughing our heads off while busting up furniture with an axe (this is totally therapeutic).  I met up with some of my favorite ladies in Catt county for a nice run, because I wanted a good excuse to blame my bad race on never get to see them and a happy hour run is where its at!

Post run, the Outlaw and I did a little bike course recon - the 10 mile loop was full of rollers and nothing innocuous - one sharp, short hill, a few weird turns with loose gravel, and the last half mile in a ridiculously "townish" stretch of road with no shoulder....seemed to be doable.

 The run course was a one mile out and back with one hill and seemed pretty fair as well - given the elevation gain of the run at Cassadagaman I was a little leery of this RD's notion of "flat" but I put both courses as decent with enough challenge to make me work!

I honestly had no idea what to set as a race goal - my coach gave me the "Go, have fun, kick names and take ass" charge (no, I meant what I said).  Sadly, I'm not in the market for ass, so I decided to go with the former.  Privately, I had two goals.  Go under 15:00 for both run segments (sub 7:30) and to get off the bike with no "I could have gone faster if..." bullshit.  I hoped to average 19 on the bike for no particular reason other than that felt respectable.  I'm not great at short stuff - I usually warm up and go faster for Olympic to Half Iron stuffs, but hey, season opener.

Race morning dawned sunny and...frickin cold.  It was 34 out, with a real feel of 27.  Fantastic for running.  Not great for feeling fingers, toes, or anything else for the bike.  Eff.  I had meticulously packed for the race, including....a sleeveless trikit and arm warmers.  OMG.  Because my friend Lauren is amazing, she lent me a base top and her sons lego gloves.  She's a keeper.  I nibbled my way through a bagel and hit the race site with about an hour before go time.  Set up transition, pinned on my race bib (yep, forgot my race belt and this sucked) and headed out for a quickie.... err.... warm up run...with the Outlaw.  We did a mile with a few strides, predicted doom and gloom for the race (this is totally normal) and headed back from last minute pee breaks and transition review.  (I really hate duathlon starts for the former reason.  Triathlons were made for pre race wetsuit relief.  No, I didn't stutter).  With ten minutes to go, the RD walked us through logistics, we took a deep breath, and were OFF!!

Run 1: 13:58 (6:59 mile)

Right away, as several fast dudes and women zoomed past me, I realized that I was slow as shit against some stiff competition.  I tried to settle into a rhythm while doing some semblance of zooming and counted the women as they passed me....one woman...two women....three women! (insert my inner cookie monster.  Ohhh....cookies sound good).  Alright, so that little thought in my brain of the podium was a nice dream while it lasted for approximately one minute.  I ignored my watch because I didn't wanna know.  The little sucker beeped at one mile just after a hill at 6:58 - oh well, then, maybe I'm not slow, everyone else is just a zoomer!  I tried to keep the pace consistent on the second mile, got passed by two more women with wings on their shoes, clocked mile 2 in 7:01 and jetted (or something resembling jetting) into T1 just shy of 14 minutes.  I was completely jazzed with this pace - would it bite me in the butt on the bike?  Who knows!

Bike:  30:41 (19.4 mph)

From our course recon yesterday, it seemed the first 3 miles of the bike were the worst.  I got stuck behind a dude coming out of transition and was going slower than I would of liked (who am I?) but the road was a little rough to pass so I sat up, drank some water and made my pass just after the first turn a half mile in.  My goal was to average 19 on the course - again, I'm not great at short stuff, and about five minutes in, the mid thirty temps became a thing and I couldn't really feel my toes or fingers.  Get some cycling gloves, Rae.  I cat and moused with a woman for a few miles and passed her on an uphill yelling - come get me! as I zoomed down the next hill.  Wait, what?  I zoomed??  I did!  I was smiling like a beast, working my little shifters to find the best gear and enjoying the hell out of the ride.  I passed one...two....three more women (the cookie monster count was so much more fun this time!) and even the one sharp uphill (where YES, I did use my small chain ring!) felt strong.  I was averaging about 19 for the first half, and the second half, despite some frozen winds, averaged almost 20.  I hit T2 conservatively as there was a ton of loose gravel, smiling my damned head off and feeling legit about the bike (turns out I actually snagged a Strava QOM segment for the bike course in 19.7, which cut out the gravelly parts in the beginning and end.  I strongly suspect this course record will last until next weekend but hey, I'm not complaining!)

Run 2:  14:24 (7:10 mile)

Coming off the bike, I was freaking frozen solid.  Again, I didn't want to know what I was running.  I settled into a one, two rhythm and got a little Foreigner stuck in my head..."You're as cold as ice...You're willing to sacrifice...."  Ok, Rae.  Fifteen or less minutes till the end.  You got this.  My legs started to thaw and I'm not sure that was a good thing - I had honestly lost count of where I was in the race but saw a woman ahead of me I decided to reel in.  Saw the outlaw chasing down some young dude for second place and yelled out something resembling encouragement.  Mile 1- 7:24.  Ooof.  As we hit the turnaround, I hit the gas and passed the woman I'd been dogging.  I had counted one more woman in front of me so I suspected I was in 2nd place - and I had no idea how much juice I had left, so I kept hammering the pace, willing the woman I had just passed to stay behind me!!  With a half mile to go, I blocked out the pain, reminded myself that I could rest in 4 minutes, and sprinted as well as my little leggoes would allow (which was a 7:00 pace for mile 2!).  Sprinted in the final minute to the shouts of Sally, Lauren, and some bullshit about going faster from the Outlaw, and finished the race strong!

My overall time for the course was 1:02:01, with transitions (OMG I need to work on these).  I dry heaved into a trash can, got an earful about the Outlaw's stats caught up with my friends, and relaxed for a few minutes before a cool down run.  

                                        Our race signs - we have some awesome sherpas!!

Turns out, there was some sort of Flash among the women that evaded me - I never saw her on run 2 (I must have been out of it), so my time was good for 3rd overall woman, which I'll definitely take!  The outlaw snagged 2nd overall, so we hung out for the awards, had some breakfast, and then headed out.  

Overall, I was really pleased with the race.  I accomplished both my time goals, and can honestly say I left nothing on th bike or run course.  I suspect I could have gone faster had my pre race prep been better or if the bike wasn't so chilly, but that's about standard for us crazy athletes.  Once the gun went off at the start, I gave it everything I had and left no time on the table.  I was especially pleased with my last run mile - since I had it in my head I was in second place, I would have been so annoyed to slow down and lose the podium, as I was actually in 3rd!

What's next?  Lilac 10k on May 23rd for a little run speed test, and Silver Serpent on June 6th, an Olympic triathlon!  Looks like YES, there will be a 2021 season, and I can't wait for it!

Centerfield

In light of the fact that it's been almost a year since the world dramatically changed for everyone, I've been doing quite a bit of thinking.  Thinking about how different life was roughly a year ago - I was still living in Gananda, the kids were in school full time, I was second in charge of my program at work, and I was diligently preparing for a summer Ironman that I was SURE was going to be amazing.

Hah.  Funny what a year does.  Despite the shitshow of 2020, there were some amazing aspects to it, and one year later, as I sit here, reflecting, I wouldn't take any of it back.  We love our new home, the district we are in is amazing, my new director title has brought challenges but many rewards, and even though racing season 2020 wasn't what I expected, it made me so much stronger in so many ways. 

 Even though there are plenty of areas I would love to see change...I would say that life is good.  Of course, the definition of "good" has been heavily revised as each week seems to bring a new change - a demand to adapt and move forward.  As a result of so many of these changes, I have done a lot of reflecting on the concept of pivoting....of endings....and beginnings...in life. I'm not sure that this has any discernable direction on the future, but I suspect it does. 

This past week, I found out that my 6th grade teacher passed away.  On paper, this wasn't big news.  Back when I was twelve, Mr. Hickey (please refrain, this poor man had to endure decades of crap for that name, I'm sure) seemed ancient - according to his obit, 27 years ago when he taught me at State Road Elementary....he was 49 years old.  Yikes.  Funny how becoming an adult redefines your scope of what "old" is, right?  Man.  Anyway, social media being what it is, his passing brought together  memories from his students in the four decades he taught school.  And there were so, so, many.  It opened a dialogue with people I haven't seen in twenty five years, and pitched me right back to 1994, when I was an awkward pre teen, unsure about my direction in life and at a major cross road.  (Not much has changed, save for that pre teen status, which, if you look at my sense of humor, also hasn't changed much, but I digress).

As I thought about all of the important lessons that Mr. Hickey imparted, I realized that he was one of the "greats" in my life.  You know what I mean - those teachers that come into your life and change the course of it irrevocably.  You might know it at the time, you might not. But you never, ever forget them - or what they have done for you.  In my years,  I've been lucky enough to have a number of amazing educators that have left an indelible mark - my kindergarten teacher, my 3rd grade teacher, "Hick" in the 6th grade, my high school health teacher, my AP 12 English teacher, my high school guidance counselor, my sociology advisor in college, and a high school science teacher I met at age 35 (apparently, you don't leave that stuff behind when you're an adult, which I'm incredibly grateful for).  In some way, shape or form, they've all crossed my path at just the right time, worked their incredible magic, and left me a much better person for it.  The world doesn't appreciate teachers nearly enough.

And while each one of these teachers deserves their own standing ovation (as I'm sure I'm not the only student they've had whose life has been touched by their incredible gift), today, I'm a kid stuck in the mid nineties.  And I realized, that in his own way, The Hick taught me all I really needed to know...in sixth grade.

Sometimes learning can come from the most unexpected places. - Hick was a huge baseball fan.  Heck, a huge any sports fan, but he had a soft spot for baseball.  What better way to teach a bunch of sixth graders statistics?  We followed MLB for the Spring season of 1994, and I got to know Frank Thomas rather well (I wanted Kirby Puckett, but hey, my friend Erin beat me to it).  We learned about means and averages along with RBI's and while the Hick was Talkin Baseball, we were learning math and having a great time doing it! We capped off the unit with a trip to the Red Wings minor league game and our unit stars came in the form of french fries and dippin' dots.  Smart man.  I don't think a single kid failed the unit. I got a little extra credit with my same friend Erin via class presentation of "Who's on First" and at the same time got my first taste of drama club that would bring me well through high school.  Just call me Bud. Who? What?  I don't know. 

Lift up your head and pay attention. One thing the Hick was known for was his astounding ability to aim small projectiles at errant students.  While I'm positive it would never fly today, his track record of hurling erasers and chalk was well known to those of us not paying attention in class. You'd be passing a note or daydreaming, and BAM, a piece of chalk would whiz within an inch of your head. I caught more than my fair share of dusty erasers and calcite that year, more than likely as I was gazing dreamily at Jason Simoni (that poor kid, I feel bad for him, I was such a hot mess). The Hick taught me to sit up, keep your eyes on the prize and to avoid distractions, which has followed well for 27 years.  He didn't teach me to stop teasing the boys.  The man could only do so much, c'mon.  Not the impossible. 

Keep it Simple, Stupid. Sixth grade featured all the normal NYS curriculum back in the mid nineties.  Math, Science, Social Studies, English, and Spelling.  Rather than learning boring, every day words, we often got teasers thrown in, and to his credit, back in 1994, our class duly learned the longest word in the world - pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.  This 45 letter word sounded mad cool - or- if you will - "radical" as we came home boasting to our parents of how smart we were.  I don't think any of us misspelled the word on test day.  We were badass.  We found out, much later, that this awesome word was, in fact....a disease.  Namely caused by inhaling quartz dust.  Was it useful?  hell no.  Did it sound cool?  Hell yeah.  Thus, the Hick taught us that while things might sound impressive, the simplest method usually is best.  (Unless, of course, you were going into geology.  Then I digress.)

Even your greatest dreams can have limiters.  Back in the day, our elementary school housed grades K-6.  Therefore, not only did we have the coolest teacher in the school, we had top dawg status.  One of the big events in the school year was our "Medieval Days" feast.  It was huge, and we spent weeks preparing.  We made goblets in art class, read about the era in history, learned period dances in P.E. class, and as a capstone, had a full day event where we were to pick a social class for our feast day, which included a roasted pig, rabbit, squirrel, dancing, and a jousting event.  You could pick from peasant, jester, nun, monk, or noble person.  There were limits for each to reflect a standard village, and we eagerly awaited our turn to pick.  I wanted to be a noble, badly.  A Nobleman, to be exact.  All three teachers gently explained to me that I was not, in fact, a man, and could not be one.  I would not be deterred as I researched into this particular status - they had power, the best weapons, ample resources, and wore the best costumes.  What was there even to argue about?  I eagerly submitted my name.  I was heartbroken when they made me a noblewoman.  This, to every other girl in the class, was the best pick - it meant a pretty costume with lace and a long skirt.  To me, all I saw was an uncomfortable dress and floof.  And with that, I learned that even my greatest dreams had limiters.  The day of the feast, I dressed in my finest watched as my crush was crowned King.  And then, a noblewoman had its benefits!  Sadly, I was not crowned Queen.  But out of all the kids in our 75 person class, I did manage to snag second overall in the joust - while wearing stockings and a lace dress.  I lost to the King.  Funny, I didn't mind much then.  

Silence is golden.  The day after medieval day was known as "Monks Day", which meant we all wore a cool hoodie and weren't allowed to speak....for 8 hours.  We could communicate in writing and using hand signals only, and if you talked, you were sent out of the class.  Looking back, this was a pretty genius way to keep 75 pre teens silent for 8 hours and was undoubtedly the teachers favorite day of the year.  To me, I remember going through the day appreciating how much was conveyed without words and how taking the time to think about things before opening your mouth was, well...eye opening.  Three decades later, I still take my time before responding in many situations in order to form my thoughts and words well, and its been incredibly helpful!

When the going gets tough, it's the best time to just go for it. If you thought the Hick liked baseball, soccer was his first main love, without a doubt.  He coached the girls JV soccer team and saw it as his personal mission to teach us how to love running around on the field.  To a chubby, uncoordinated kid, this wasn't always welcome, but the Hick didn't care if you were any good or not.  Every day, rain, shine, or blizzard, he took anyone out to play soccer for 15-20 minutes.  We ran around, had a blast, and then came back to class ready to learn.  While this was a genius way of running off a 12 year olds energy, it also taught us to work together, to play the field any position, and to stick it through no matter what "the weather" was.  There was no bad day to play soccer, only days that were more challenging.  As an adult, I'm no more coordinated than I was as a kid.  Often, my volleyball bumps go backward rather than forward.  We won't even discuss me on a bike.  But I do have heart - and you've gotta have heart.  As an adult, even on my bad days at sport - I always rally back the next day - cause those tough days set your mind up to excel and go for it - if you can persevere when the going gets tough, you've got it made.  

Sometimes you know it's the last time...and sometimes you don't.  As the big cheese at State road, us 6th graders knew we were the coolest kids that ever lived.  And in June, as our last days as Elementary kids rolled around, we faced our first big transition - from the "Big Kids on Campus" to our next stop at middle school - which was the great unknown and a very big rite to our next stage as teenagers.  We created as many rituals as possible to mark this passing - our 6th grade yearbook, a mini graduation, and, on the last day of school, several run throughs around the bus loop singing our trademark song from the Hick - "Centerfield" and " Hey-ey Goodbye". We sang with all our hearts to John Fogerty as the tears rolled down our faces. We knew it was the end of an era.  We knew our past six years had come to an end.  And somehow, we knew we were crossing a bridge to the next stage in our life.  

And sometimes, life is like that.  Sometimes, you reach the end of a stage in life, look around, and know that you're moving on.  And sometimes - you don't.  You have no idea if this is the last time you'll all be together.  Or the last time you'll see someone.  And while we can't appreciate every single second of our life for the beauty that it is, that it's important to understand that life....is change. And to appreciate those special moments for what they are. And even if you don't know it at the time, and even if it seems painful, that change can lead to amazing growth and opportunities that you didn't even know existed.

Thanks, Hick.  For the life lessons.  For the laughs.  For the learning.  For the incredible memories and take aways that, as an impressionable twelve year old, made their mark.  You'll never know the depth of your impact on so many of us as we lead our lives today.  You will be missed, but we will carry on your legacy.  Put me in coach - I'm ready to play.  Today.