I am not a writer. I dabble in parenting, sport and making fun of myself. I'm good at coffee. I love where I live and the things I get to do.
Author: Christine Cogger
I am not a writer. I like my kids, coffee, running around and reading about you. I live in the most incredible part of the world and am lucky enough to live some pretty great adventures.
Sunday morning – on our HOLIDAY – we got up at 3:10AM to go run the Maui Half Marathon. I’d say it was somewhat easy because I was still on Pacific time, but that would be a total lie. Getting up at 3:something to do any kind of race is just silly and it sucks no matter how you spin it.
We piled into the car, in the pitch black and headed out the start on the other side of the island. Standing on the start line, shortly before 5AM, was not unlike standing in the middle of a human sauna. Foreshadowing: maybe I should have been a little more concerned with fluid loss considering I’d yet to start running and was pretty much already soaking wet.
We took off in the dark, admired the stars and ran somewhat blind for the first hour or so of racing. It was dark enough, in fact, that I nearly ran head first into the first guy coming back from the turnaround. I paid slightly closer attention to where I was going after that near miss.
I think it was also around this point – roughly mile 6 – when I started to become aware of the fact that while I was cooking, temperature-wise, I wasn’t sweating that much and I was chilly and covered in goose bumps. Not ideal. I figured it would pass if I could get some water down and on me. And believe me, I tried.
This wasn’t the most riveting course in the world, so I was more than a little relieved when I finally crossed the finish line. I was rather wobbly, but 2 big guys grabbed me and gave me little choice about heading straight to medical. Some IV fluids and some chocolate milk later, I was fine.
In the end, good enough to win my age group and finish 7th overall. And then, of course, hit the beach/pool/post-race beers.
Mandatory pre-race handstand.
It’s been proven that manicures make you feel faster. I think.
4 shiny girls pre-start! My eyes are closed because it’s 4-freaking-45AM
Chasing Nat. Didn’t catch her.
Shiniest I’ve ever been in a race. Also, refuse to purchase $69 race photos.
Nat won 35-39 AG!
Ultra cheesy $60 luau photo that I did not take picture of, no sir.
Terrible view from… basically bed.
—
A few days post race, Liz and I decided “Hey, there’s a volcano. Let’s go ride bikes up it!” Or something along those lines.
Actual conversations held during the ride:
Mile 16:
Me (squealing as something flew at me): “What the hell was that? Did you see that thing?”
Me: “I sure hope this volcano doesn’t explode on us.”
Liz: “Shut up, cheeseburger.”
Needless to say, we made it. It was pretty epic. 10’000ft of epic. And really freaking cold.
#shutupcheeseburger
Fake smiling
Kind of like sipping air through a straw.
“Sir, you should be paying US to ride up here.”
Pre-descent pep-talk.
Mid-descent warm up nap.
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Common sense dictates that yes, we did also lie on the beach, nap, lie by the pool, talk, read books, hot tub, watch sunsets, drink lots of coffee and many, many other beverages, dance, laugh and generally have a very above average holiday. An excellent kick off to this 24th, er, 40th year, I’d say.
I celebrated my birthday last weekend. Contrary to popular belief, I did not actually turn 24. In fact, I’ve officially jumped into a whole new decade, an entirely new age group. When I confessed my real age to Will, the look of abject horror on his face was pretty priceless. Almost worth the price of my confession, I’d say.
You’d think he’d have figured out that I wasn’t 24 when one of his pals said to me “oh, so that means you graduated from high school 5 years ago?”
Busted.
Anyway, we filled the weekend the best way we know how: with sport.
Sport #1. A 6 year old boy’s birthday party.
Happy belated, mon amour.
Ok, so while this isn’t “technically” a sport, when it was over I felt as tired as if I’d run 2 marathons. Clearly, I did not fuel properly. Maybe I should have backed away from the MnMs.
The noise level was on par with that of a WWF match (I’m guessing here, having never actually been to one). A recovery session was required by all.
Dyslexia at its finest
Sport #2. Terry Fox Run
The most important run of the year. I’ve done it every year since living on the West Coast and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. It’s very, very important to me and my kids know it. They are starting to feel the same way. Granted, we don’t go far and some of the kids ride bikes, but we are out there supporting a very good cause.
Sport #3. Defeat the Duffey.
Sure, let’s pick an afternoon where it’s 30C to ride straight uphill for 65 minutes. Fun! It was hard and I loved it. But damn if Paul didn’t win for the 3rd year in a row. I have no idea how that’s even possible. I’d call him a cheater if I could figure out a way that cheating is possible.
Dave. Fastest up. “Secret Trainer”.
The eventual winner
S.u.f.f.e.r.i.n.g.
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Celebrations continue this week as I am in Maui with a group of the best friends a girl could ask for. Far be it from us to plan a trip without a race, we’ll be starting the Maui 1/2 marathon on Sunday.
At 5am.
In the dark.
I haven’t run a quick step since Challenge Penticton. This ought to be interesting.
I’d post lots of pictures of what we’re doing here, but that would just be cruel.
I can’t quite fathom that it’s already been 2 years since Mum passed away. In some ways, time does make the loss easier and a little bit less sharp. But in other ways, I miss her more than ever.
My favourite photo of us, with Will.
I still reach for the phone when I feel like I need her – forgetting sometimes that she won’t be on the other end to listen. I still jot down quotes or anecdotes about the kids with the intention of emailing them to her. Every day, there is something I want to share with her but can’t. I keep waiting for that feeling or instinct to fade, but it hasn’t. Nor do I think it’s going to anytime soon.
I both dread and welcome this anniversary. Dread, well, that’s obvious, isn’t it? But I welcome it because it gives me carte blanche to think about her, to grieve – still – a little more openly. I give myself permission to turn inwards, to be sad. To look through old pictures, to watch the memorial video, to not clear my head when thoughts of her and her illness fill me. To cry.
I suppose it’s odd to say I turn inwards as I write a very public expression of how I’m feeling; but this helps a lot, too.
Dear Mum,
We’re ok. We all are. I think you’d be proud of me, of us. We’re all moving forward, together. I think we all miss you in our different ways. Every day, I am reminded of what you told me a few days before you died: “Go do something.” You know, I do something for you everyday – sometimes it’s something big, sometimes it’s something small. Some things you’d smile at, others you’d shake your head and roll your eyes at, even some still you’d avert your eyes (sorry Mum, in some ways, I’m never going to grow up).
The older the kids get, the more I find myself doing things the way I think you would have done. I suppose my biggest regret is that you aren’t here to see them grow and change and challenge me. They are three such distinct little people, it’s a wonder they are related. I can bet there are times that they are driving me batty that you are smiling from wherever you are. You aren’t saying I told you so, but I’m more than certain that you are enjoying watching my buttons being pushed in a way that I likely pushed yours. How am I going to survive the teenage years without you to share a glass of commiserating wine?
Life continues to throw curveballs, to take unexpected twists and there’s no doubt that had I taken the time when I was younger to map out where I’d be in 2014, it would look nothing like the reality that exists. And that’s ok. Because I think that no matter what, you’d be there to support me and to listen, gently. Just like I know you are, now.
I love crossing my own finish lines, but I get a HUGE kick out of seeing friends and training partners cross theirs. I was a hugely annoying person at the finish line of IMC; as we sat trying to enjoy a drink, every time someone I knew would cross the line, I’d spring up – shrieking – and then sprint down the chute to go give that person a big sweaty hug.
I should note that there is no better hug than a sweaty, finish line hug. Hands down.
Anyway. I had the privilege of watching Gary, Danny and Nancy all cross the line this year, and since they shared their prep stories with me before, I thought it would be fun to check in with them post race and see how they are faring. Since Danny seems to be frolicking in Mexico with his family and not using his beach time to answer my questions, let’s start with a catch-up with Gary and Nancy.
Since we last talked, how did the final build and taper into IMC go for you?
Gary
Gary Martin: Training had been going really well throughout the year and I’d managed to stay injury free, that was until July 1st when on a fun Canada Day run in the village I had to pull up 6km into the 8km course with a seriously painful achilles. This unfortunately put an end to my running training until race day and certainly messed with my mind. Thankfully I could still bike and swim without aggravating it so continued to persevere and get as ready as best I could for the big day.
Nancy
Nancy Johnston: Final build and taper went well. strictly adhered to my program, ( I trust my coach completely) and added a few sessions of physio, massage and of course more floating (good for the body, great for the mind)
Would you have changed anything about your prep?
GM: Given the unexpected injury and the way my support team of physio, chiro and massage therapist all rallied to try and fix me then no, there’s nothing I would have changed but I would have obviously preferred a smoother less stressful, injury-free prep.
NJ: More early season riding, preferably Maui. I missed having that longer distance base from when the weather is nice enough to get outside here.
How does having IMC in your “hometown” feel for you when it rolls in?
GM: It felt fantastic and I was so proud to see so many people out here training and to race with hundreds of other dedicated athletes in my own back yard. I remember on race day riding back from Pemby and being able to describe every corner, straight, climb and descent to someone from out of town. I know this course and love this course so well and can’t wait to see another batch of crazy people attempt to conquer it again next year.
NJ: IMC in Whistler feels great. For sure I get nervous as it gets closer but when I see the first few trucks with M-dot logo roll into town and I’m excited.
I absolutely check out the expo, talk to folks, see what’s new and attend the pre race meeting (great to have multiple times to choose from this year).
Did you get nervous seeing all the athletes?
GM: No, seeing all the other athletes just got me excited. Having competed in three other triathlons this year I felt pretty well prepared for race day although this was certainly a lot bigger than any of the previous events.
Did you cruise the Expo and take in all the extra activities or did you hunker down and rest and avoid all the hoopla?
GM: I tried not to get too distracted by the Expo although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take a quick peek at all the awesome goodies on display. I was fortunate enough to be able to take a couple of days off work to try and unwind before hand which really helped and getting to enjoy the opening ceremony was great. Seeing all the other athletes and hearing some of the stories how people have had to overcome large adversities was really inspiring and motivating.
Is there a particular moment in the lead up to race day that really sticks with you?
GM: If racing wasn’t enough, myself and three friends along with our wives decided to use this opportunity to raise some money for a very worthwhile charity, Canuck Place Children’s Hospice. Pan Pacific Whistler connects us all via either profession or marriage so we became the Pan Pacific Whistler Ironmen and set ourselves a lofty target of $10,000. With just a week to go until race day we reached our target finishing with a total of $10,600, a huge moment that definitely sticks with me.
NJ: I was freaking out because I was getting sick – thanks to Kim at Nesters for loading me up with all the immune boosting and cold fighting tips. And then I was very relieved to have two of my sisters fly in and help too.
Tell me about your race day in terms of swim/bike/run. If you can, break down your race.
GM: Swim: The first word that comes to mind when describing this is ugly! Having completed many triathlons in the past I thought I was prepared for what I was going to face, races with a few hundred athletes doesn’t even come close to splashing around with nearly 2,000. Within the first few hundred metres I was kicked in the nuts, punched in the head and kicked in the face, not ideal for sure. Because of this I really struggled to find my rhythm and the pace I had hoped for, as a result I came out of the water just over 5 minutes slower than I had hoped.
Nancy’s cheer squad
Bike: From day one after signing up this was the leg I’d been most looking forward to and for the first few hours I was loving it. After the swim however I really struggled to get any food down so by the time I hit the Meadows I also hit a brick wall. After some test races earlier in the year that I’d faced some challenges in, and which I did not deal with very well, this time was different. I learnt from my previous mistakes, stayed calm, sat up, took it easy and started pouring shakes, Powerade and gels down my neck. Thankfully by the time I got back to Pemberton and started the long ride back to Whistler my energy levels had been restored so by T2 I’d made up all the time I’d lost during the swim. I was aiming for 6 hours so was stoked to do a 5:42 and get my run started pretty much exactly at 2pm.
Run: I’d expected the run to be hard but hard doesn’t even come close to describing it, in fact I think the first word I used to describe it to my wife after finishing was disgusting. As soon as I came out of transition I knew my estimated time of 4 hours was not going to happen and this was confirmed when I hit my first hill and my run quickly changed to a walk. Forget physical fitness, this marathon had suddenly turned into the biggest mental challenge of my life and the best way for me to deal with it was 2km at a time as I made my way from one aid station to the next. I was so grateful to my awesome colleagues and amazing wife who had all got up at silly o’clock to cheer me on at the start and follow me all day long, seeing their faces and hearing their encouragement as well as all the support from the hoards of fantastic spectators really helped me keep my legs moving. I spent pretty much all of the run recalculating and estimating my finishing time as I’d set a goal of 11 hours for a happy day and 12 hours as a redo. Thankfully I’d managed to save a little for the last 5km and got close enough to my target with a time of 11:18:56 that I was well and truly satisfied and immediately said to my wife after finishing that I would never do another full Ironman ever again!
Don’t get my wrong, the sense of accomplishment is truly fantastic and the number of people who have said to me that I’ve inspired them is amazing but this doesn’t change the fact that this race was at times very unpleasant and really not very enjoyable. I love triathlons and will continue to race in the future but the distance on this course is something that will be a challenge to many athletes in the future but never again to me.
Editor’s note: The number of times Gary says “never again” makes me think the athlete doth protest too much.
NJ: Race day I think I was much calmer than last year. I knew what I was in for and had accepted it was going to be longer. I wasn’t going to beat my time and I was okay with that.
Had a good swim, despite having to move around quite a bit to find some open water and get out of the washing machine of arms, legs and rough water.
Bike is such a lovely course, I was looking forward to a nice ride and it was such a great temperature to start with. Right off the bat my tummy wasn’t happy (too much lake water sloshing about) and quickly had to switch to nutrition plan b (nothing solid). It went fairly well till I couldn’t tolerate gel anymore. So much fun riding into Whistler and Pemberton and having friends cheer, hand me my stuff in special needs, drinks at the aid stations. What great community support for this event. Kept smiling the whole ride.
By the time I started the run I was pretty light headed and nauseous. Kept making myself drink water and electrolytes but then would have to walk a few minutes so I wouldn’t throw it right back up. I am going to have to find those non drowsy gravol cause we both know I can’t handle the full strength kind. Did meet a few lovely folks on the run so nice to be able to chat after the solo efforts in the swim and bike.
Ok, so every non-local was talking about the BEARS-OH-MY-GOD-THE-BEARS. So, did you see any on race day?
GM: I saw the back end of one is it disappeared off into the bushes.
NJ: I did not see any bears….on race day.
Besides the obvious – the hills – what words of wisdom would you share with someone who is thinking of coming to race IMC?
GM: Expect anything up here as the weather can change in an instant in the mountains. Heat, wind, rain, even snow as we had a fresh dusting on the mountain tops just a week before race day.
NJ: Come train here, knowing what is around the corner is such a huge bonus whether its a hill, valley, aid station or just shade.
Highlight of the day?
GM: Finishing! Okay so maybe not just finishing but finishing in a time that means I will never have to do another Ironman.
NJ: Having family and friends supporting and encouraging along the way.
Lowlight of the day?
GM: Every step of the marathon, just brutal.
NJ: Wanting to quit on the first lap of the run I was so unhappy.
Did you achieve your goals and what you’d set out to do?
GM: Yes, thankfully.
Gary’s awesome colleagues at Origin Design
NJ: I hadn’t committed to a race time but wanted to enjoy my day. And while I did have a few low moments I did enjoy parts of my day, met some wonderful people, took all the high 5s, hugs and encouragement and thanked volunteers.
What was the best part about crossing that finish line?
GM: As stated a couple of times before the fact I will never, ever, have to do another one!
NJ: Actually finishing and it was still light. Having someone with more sense than me to know I needed to go to the medical tent. Thanks for that and for keeping my family posted on my status. ZZZ.
Editor’s note: I was that “someone”. Nancy crossed and said she was feeling nauseous. I said “Go to Medical”. She responded something like “No, no. They must be busy, I’m not that bad”. Which basically made me force her to go. Went I went back to check on her a little later, she looked so cute napping with her feet up on a box of water under her space blanket.
What’s next for you?
GM: A week after the race I was back in training as I have a marathon on September 6th. Really looking forward to this one with the knowledge that I don’t have to swim 4km and bike 180km before I start. This’ll be my last race of the year as its time to wrap things up and focus on the snow which fingers crossed, will soon be with us. I will most certainly continue to race triathlons in the future but my focus will now move from the longer endurance races to the shorter sprint and Olympic distances.
NJ: Up next was Challenge Penticton half. Another lovely day, fun event with good friends.
Editor’s Note: Which she did in a very respectable time of 6:28
Now it’s recovery time. I have committed to not signing up for anything for 2 months which sounds easier that it is cause there is this tri in Bend, OR I’m keen to check out and then the Vancouver Rock n Roll half. For now I will ride and run for fun.(swimming is always fun)
Thanks to Nancy and Gary for taking the time to answer my pesky questions. Stay tuned for Danny’s update (when he can tear himself away from the fruity drinks).
I moved to Whistler in June of 2000. On my second day here, I went for my first mountain bike ride. I thought of myself as a fairly decent rider; after all, I’d been racing for several years and I had a pretty good grasp of what I was doing… on East Coast trails. Gavin and a few of the shop guys decided to introduce us to the Whistler classic, A River Runs Through It.
Well, damn if I didn’t get totally schooled and had to fight the urge to fling my bike into traffic. The learning curve was steep.
Fast-forward 14 years, and this morning I rode that very same trail with my boys. If you’d asked me on that same ride way back when if I’d be riding this with my kids in the future, I’d have laughed in your face and said “Kids? What kids?” and had another beer.
Riding with my kids is an exercise in patience, coaching, encouragement and sometimes pulling on the reins a little bit. I don’t come close to getting into a rhythm and my own riding is somewhat disastrous because it’s all stop-go, “Mum, watch me!”, “Mum, take a video of this!”, “Whoa, Mum – you made it!” (sometimes I even manage to surprise them).
I love watching them encourage each other, push each other and cheer for each other. Miraculously, they don’t fight when we’re out there and their 2 very distinct personalities shine through.
And through a lot of it my heart is pounding in my chest but I keep my nerves under wraps, for their sake. My hands were still shaking a little bit when I got home.
About 2 weeks ago, somewhere in middle of a long trail run up Whistler with a bunch of great girls, Liz and I decided that it would be a good idea to sign up for the Half Iron at Challenge Penticton. Never mind that it was less than 2 weeks away, that we’d done essentially zero “formal” training or that I was running Squamish 23 the weekend before. This sounded like a great idea.
A couple days of swim/bike/run later – and foam rolling like it was my job, post-Squamish – we got to Penticton on what has traditionally been one of the busiest weekends of the year for them. And it was… ghost town. Weird.
Anyway. We checked in to our place, did all the pre-race crap you have to do and set ourselves up to have decent races by essentially deciding we were going to do so and not be so damn grumpy. I think we were able to do just that because we were staying close enough to the start line that we knew we didn’t have to get up before 5:30. Excellent.
Important pre-race ritual
Race Motto
Another important pre-race ritual
So. Race day. Here’s how it went.
Swim
Goal: Sub 00:36 (look out, Michael Phelps). Actual: 00:36:56
I did something I never do. I started on the front line, right behind Liz. I figured “What the hell. What’s the worst that can happen?”
Editor’s note: DROWNING, that’s what.
It was fine. A little rough at times, but I felt myself being pulled along so that was kind of neat. I think I swam about as straight as a line as a puppy running through the forest, but at least I aimed for all the buoys.
Bike
Goal: Sub 3:00, catch Liz. Actual: 2:52:54, no Liz.
That bike course was no joke. Some really good climbing combined with pavement that was teeth-rattling rough, it was going to be hard. And it was, but in a good way. A bit lonely at times but I was able to keep my head down and not lose focus too badly (“SQUIRREL!”) and enjoy the full-body shaking caused by the iffy pavement.
Run
Goal: Sub 1:50 Actual 1:45:15
I can’t believe I am typing this but the run was fun. I liked the course, it was hot and my body mostly cooperated. When I finally caught Liz – who’d lost her nutrition on the bike and was paying the price for it on the run – she told me to get a move on, I was in 4th.
Huh?
I suppose when I saw the lead bike out of transition, I should have paid a little bit more attention to what was going on.
I ended the day 3rd woman overall, and since I pretty much never look over my shoulder when I’m racing, I didn’t notice the pack of balloon-wielding kids who chased me to the line. That’ll teach me.
All in all, a pretty fun day of racing. I endured the usual post-race nausea and misery for a few hours, but some Gravol, beer and pizza fixed me right up.
As Liz pointed out, you’re only as good as your last race. I guess that means it’s on for Maui, right?
How long have I been racing? Lots of years, lots of sports and lots of distances. Lots of mistakes made and lots of lessons learned.
So.
You’d think that I by now I’d have figure out how to seed myself appropriately at the start of a race. Sunday, 30 seconds before the start of the Squamish 23K run, I looked around as I was chatting with Christine and fiddling with my gear and realized not only was I near the very back of the corral, I was behind a girl wearing those shudder-inducing 5 Fingers and another wearing birkenstocks.
Taking selfies when I should have been doing something else.
Not ideal. If I intend on doing anything that resembles racing at these races, I need to be up front near the bearded dudes who opt to run shirtless and the scary, sinewy women. Alas, it was not to be today and off I went.
I spent the first 10kms faintly bleating “On your left…. On your left… On your left…” And yeah, I got around 5 Fingers and Birky pretty early on.
My terrible planning aside, this run is a must-do for anyone keen to do a hilly, challenging trail run. The course is awesome, tough, hilly, technical and oddly quiet when you end up running the back half alone.
Wee bit hilly
I successfully stayed on my feet, I didn’t deplete myself, won the mental battle when I
I’m a nerd and save bibs. I did not want another one like this.
started to get chills – there was no way I was putting myself in the hospital again – and finished feeling happy and good. Plus, I got a big, sweaty bear hug from a tired GR. A great way to end my race.
I had the foresight to park about 4 feet from the finish line so I immediately hopped in the truck (which my hips are making me pay for today), drove home and collected various children from various locations. We finished off our Sunday with a bit of Slow Food Cycle and some time at their favourite place, the beer garden.
Replenishing my carbs.
No seriously, it’s their favourite place.
And now for 1 day of recovery, 4 days of taper and then Challenge Penticton! This ought to be interesting.
Nobody likes to read about the weather, myself included. But I’m going to write about the weather anyway, since it seems to be the only thing anyone up here is talking about. Apologies if you live in a part of the country where it’s been raining 24/7… but for the last 10 days or so, Pemberton has been somewhat comparable to the surface of the sun.
Personally, I like it. I may not like it as much when I’m trying to sleep, but it’s been back-to-back days of lake time, a steady diet of freezies and popsicles, workouts in the heat of the day where your body just doesn’t sweat because it’s too damn hot.
And to think… in 2 months it’ll probably be snowing.
I’ll be the first to get annoyed when people humble-brag about how busy they are, but holy moly… Has anyone seen July? I blinked and it’s done! Hot summer days, kids all over the place and 4 events back-to-back makes me just want to sit down now.
August is going to be – hopefully – all about playing! And planning silly adventures and challenges of course.
Speaking of challenges. Have you heard? #FP! It’s a thing. Flash Plank. Do it. Convince you friends to do it. You know you want to.
#FP with Coach Lovato!
Pembi Fest #FP
Post-ride FP
Do it anywhere #FP
Even babies #FP
Big Al #FP
Optical illusion #FP
Ucluelet #FP
Parking lot #FP
Even the kids #FP
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Summer has been pretty spectacular here and the kids are both fried/having a blast. That’s what summer should be, in my opinion. A steady stream of hot days, sunscreen, and popsicles.
—
I wrapped July by working my favourite event: Ironman Canada. Once again, it was a great experience for me, one filled with long days and great people. At an event of this size, it’s always the little moments that make it awesome for me.
Being on the paddle boards at the swim start. I have a WHOLE new appreciation for swim course directors.
Almost getting trampled by 450 kids at the kids fun run.
Sneaking away for an hour to cheer for runners as they ran through the woods.
Being able to help an athlete by lending her my bike when hers broke. My bike did Ironman!
Walking an athlete back to her hotel post-race, holding her hand, listening to her experience and hearing how proud she was of herself.
Dancing at the finish line at midnight.
Seeing my friends cross the finish line and feeling so proud of them.
I would sign up for next year if I didn’t like working this event so much.
Just a few days before the race
He’s so annoyed with me.
Simon calling out the Canadians
Kids Fun Run
The best part of our day
What the end of a 21h day looks like
Finish line at midnight
IMC run course #FP!
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And finally, FINALLY… I am running again. Hurray! Life is back to being complete. Next up, the Squamish 23k trail run which *GASP*… I have to do alone. I can’t remember the last time I did a race alone. Anja overheard me complaining about this yesterday and never even batted an eye. “Just call Lizzie, Mama. She’ll do it with you.”
The SMO's stories 