Riders: Beware the mean racer

On Sunday, Aug. 4, 2013, more than 1,000 other women, myself included, arrived to Oneida Shores in Brewerton, N.Y., to become Iron Girls. This was the fifth annual Athleta Iron Girl Syracuse Sprint Triathlon event to grace the region.

Three years ago, I took on a challenge to become an Iron Girl for the first time. As a long-time runner, I never thought I could complete a triathlon because I had very little experience in both the swim and bike legs of a triathlon event.

No matter, I worked at becoming sufficient in those two events while keeping my running base strong. While practicing the transitions is necessary, there is no comparison to how that part will go when it comes to the actual race day. I went into the 2011 IG race with a little bit of fear and also a lot of excitement thanks to the support of fellow female athletes. The same went for the 2012 race. I completed both with a fire in my heart and fantastic experiences.

This year, I went to the line with the same expectations and rightfully so! Every woman I saw prior to the race was excited and ready to give me a hug and a “good luck” just as I did for them. While you wait on the beach for your age group wave to go off, those interactions with positive people is what keep you motivated and fired up for the race ahead. Otherwise, you would most likely stand there and wonder, “What did I get myself into?” And that is quite natural, but the kind words of encouragement and last-minute hugs and high-fives really do make a difference.

And so the horn went off for the 25-29 age group on the shores of Oneida Lake this past Sunday and I took off in water…

I had a rough beginning in the water since another swimmer’s hand came over me and hit my goggles. She immediately paused her stroke and apologized, which was very kind of her to do. And the right thing to do, right?

I told her, “It’s OK, let’s keep going!” My right eye was filled with water and I tried to figure out a way to adjust it without pausing again. It turned out there wasn’t a feasible way of doing this without slowing down so I let it be. I wear contacts so this was not a great feeling and it was blurring my vision quite a bit. I guess this is part of being an Iron Girl ― goopy lake water in the eye!

I came out of the water feeling fairly strong and with a PR for this leg compared to my previous performances in this race with a 13:26. My first transition took a little longer than planned because I was struggling to peel my wet suit off. Again, it’s part of being an Iron Girl. I got dried off and grabbed my bike in 2:49 and headed out to begin the 18.6-mile course.

I was feeling good and averaging about 19mph on the course while covering a few miles or so thus far. Then, came the railroad tracks…

Thankfully, in all my sprint and Olympic triathlon experiences I have never experienced a bike crash. More importantly, I have never come across a fellow athlete who lacked consideration for his or her fellow racers.

As I proceeded to cross the tracks, as I have done in the last two years of this event, I noticed a racer to my left who was coasting and braking (something you should not do on railroad tracks) while also turning her front wheel toward me. I began shouting, “Stop!” and “Watch out!” but she didn’t stop and kept heading toward me. Her wheel went into my front rim and I knew what was coming.

In reality, it all happened so fast, but I could see and feel myself flipping off my bike and bouncing on to the railroad tracks and on to some nearby grass. I looked up only to see the crash-causing racer continuing on her way… Never slowing down. Never looking back. And most certainly, she didn’t stop or make an effort to ask if I was OK. Most importantly, the word “sorry” was never mentioned.

Fortunately, I started to gather my bearings to get back up and get back on the bike. I still had 16-some miles to go and that was a daunting fact to fathom at that moment given my fall and the pain I was feeling. While I was working on getting back into the race, women coming to the tracks slowed down and gave me encouragement and actually expressed care: “Are you OK?” and “You can do it!” were most common and one woman actually came to a stop just past me and asked, “Do you need help?”

All these wonderful women helped me realize that I could indeed finish and despite one person’s poor sportsmanship, there were a thousand other supportive women who had the right mindset for this race: Empower one another above all else.

With that, I got back up and kept going. My lower back was hurting because of bruising and a cut and my arms were banged up too. My neck hurt from falling on my back and then another concern began. While I biked as best as I could while being shook up and in pain, my timing chip on my left leg got really tight. I looked down to see that my left ankle had begun to swell from the fall and it was noticeably bigger than my right ankle.

I contemplated stopping altogether after the crash and then considered it again after I realized my ankle was in bad shape and started to hurt more with each push on the pedal.

I pushed forward and honestly, much of it was anger toward the person that was out there racing with such disregard for the racers around her. I kept hoping nothing like this would happen to anyone else while she was still out there. I did not catch up to her on the bike course, and despite my ankle injury, I knew I would catch her on the run.

I struggled to finish the bike portion and came in at 1:04:49 and then took 1:13 in the second transition.

Now, came a true test, a 5K on one good foot.

My ankle, along with the side of my left leg throbbed with each foot strike and my arms ached with each swing. The pounding on the pavement sent shocks to my lower back and my neck, which were not faring well after the fall.

But once again, the encouragement around me, from other racers, was motivating me to tough it out. I wouldn’t be an Iron Girl if I didn’t at least try to finish at this point.

With this always being my strongest leg of the race, I wanted to prove to myself that someone else’s rude and inconsiderate actions would not bring me down or bring the empowering spirit of the race down too.

I actually spotted the racer that knocked me off my bike and I passed her with ease. I didn’t bump her or say anything at this point because that would be wrong of me to ruin someone else’s race for no good reason. I held true to my belief in good racing etiquette and good sportsmanship.

I powered through the run and complete the 5K course in 22:01. My run put me at the top of the field for my age group and this time also placed me seventh overall for the running portion of the race.

I completed the entire course in 1:44:18. It was not a PR from last year’s performance and it was not what I set out to accomplish. Besides missing out on a PR, I missed out on a shot at winning my age group ― a great possibility had the bike gone smoothly. But since I’ll never know, that idea can only be categorized as a “hypothetical” scenario.

I waited at the finish to see the infamous racer. I waited until she had caught her breath and had been done for a short while. I approached her and asked if someone crashed while she was on the tracks. The look of fear was in her eyes. I knew she couldn't believe that the person she sent falling had found her so long after it had happened. She gave me very little reasons that made sense and also the most important part was her disregard and the way she plainly did not care what happened.

A simple “sorry” or genuine interest in the well-being of someone she knocked over would have made a difference in this moment, but she chose to be set in her way of being irresponsible and inconsiderate and having no sportsmanship whatsoever.

I shared this information with officials, but also am sharing it with my blog readers so that you know how much it means to be a responsible racer and a considerate one at that.

I would hate to think "there's always one in the bunch," but maybe there is.

The spirit of racing stays strong and shines bright when everyone gets a shot at swimming, biking or running his or her best. It’s unfortunate that this happened and I can only hope she will learn a lesson and never act with such contempt when out on a race course again.

I am disheartened by this incident and even now as I type, I am still fuming over the “what ifs” and the way someone could be so rude.

I am now focusing on a sprained left tendon near my ankle with pain that is shooting up the side of my leg. I have a marathon in November (Philly) and a BQ under my belt… The race(s) must go on.

Until my next post, be beautiful and genuine ― in other words, be you.

Part 2: Running a marathon while injured

After running my first marathon injured, I was grateful to have run my second one healthy. These first two marathons were both Chicago Marathons. This course is full of notable buildings and historical neighborhoods. Although I grew up outside of this beautiful city and spent many summers visiting and doing the occasional sightseeing, running down the middle of these streets is an entirely different experience.

Because I ran the first one with thousands of painful steps, the second one was actually enjoyable. I was able to see and hear everything and that in itself made it worth it to come back and conquer Chicago properly.

On my way to my third full marathon, the Rock ‘N’ Roll San Diego Marathon, I finally ran my first half marathon. Yes, I did things a little backward, but for some reason this never bothered me. Having been a lifelong runner, there were times in my life where I have run more than 20 miles for different training purposes or charity benefits. This time, of course, I was running a full 26.2 miles in order to master the marathon distance.

Believe it or not, running the shorter distance (13.1 miles) actually worried more than running my first full marathon. I’m still not entirely sure why I was overcome by that feeling, however, it was soon swept into my memory once I ran the inaugural Syracuse Half Marathon this past March. My training partner and I were both running full marathons during the first weekend of June, so running a half in March was right on track with our goals. We were both preparing for substantially hilly courses and unknown factors as I would be running on the West Coast for the first time and she would be running overseas in Sweden, also for the first time. We did hill workouts and some tempo to prepare for the Syracuse Half, but we actually didn’t reach any pace work at that point. With that in mind, we were somewhat apprehensive to say our goals out loud!

Turns out, we handled the hilly spots on the Syracuse course quite well and we used the flat areas and occasional downhill to our advantage. I ran a 1:39:30, which was well under my goal. My training partner also ran a PR, well under 1:46. With that half in my back pocket, I knew I was ready for San Diego.

However, the unfortunate happened, again, less than seven weeks out from this marathon. I endured a senseless injury while not running… I stress “again” because my first marathon’s pre-race injury also happened while not running. (See previous blog for that fun story!)

I was heading into work on a Wednesday morning in mid-April to find myself carrying a few too many things while someone insisted on walking out of the door I was barely hanging on to for support. I slammed a metal hand-truck into the top of my right. I iced the area and figured it was only going to be a bruise, but of course that would make for a less stressful few weeks leading into training, wouldn’t it?

That evening’s run went from OK to terrible in just a few miles. By the time I finished, my right big toe’s joint was swollen and hurt with every step. Plus, the outside area of my right leg was in excruciating pain. It felt like my ligament was coming off my bone. Sounds lovely, I know…

That weekend I had a 16-miler on the calendar in order to prepare for my marathon. Looking ahead, I knew the rest of my training would either be awful or I would have to throw in the towel. The pain in my toe and my right leg (fibularis longo) was constant. As a sworn in and certified stubborn runner, I also knew I would not go to the doctor because she would most likely tell me to back off and think long term for this injury and the worth of the marathon.

However, as many of you know, I was fundraising for Hope For Heather Ovarian Cancer Awareness of CNY, as I will do for all future marathons. There was no way I was going to “back off” or quit. I was running for too many people beside myself. I have a great passion for the mission and I was running for the survivors, the supports and the angels. These injuries would not overcome any of this.

By the end of April, an option I would have never known about became the answer to my pain and my prayers. My friend and owner of Saunacuse, told me about infrared sauna therapy and how she had read many articles about how it is a great option for runners, especially marathon runners like me. I read the article she shared with me and I found others. I was so intrigued that I interviewed her for an article that we published in the magazine that I edit. It made for an excellent fit for our health and wellness issue. You can read that story here.

If you’ve never heard of infrared sauna therapy or are unsure of it, read up on it and try it. You have nothing to lose. And like me, I only gained back my strength and sanity to be sure I could run the marathon. Because of these results, I am there for a session at least every other week as I am in triathlon season now before I begin training for my next full marathon. (We’ll get into the cross-training benefits I enjoy from triathlons for my running on another day…)

With only three weeks left until my marathon, I did one 45-minute session each week before I left for California. After the first session, I had my final long run, a 22-miler. I ran the entire distance without an ounce of pain. How could this be?

It turns out the infrared sauna therapy was working. It was clearing my body of toxins and the light therapy also benefited my muscle tissues and my joints. (I use strong blue and strong yellow.)

I went into my final weeks of training pain-free and ran my best marathon yet. No matter the intense hills in San Diego and the unknown factors that awaited me, I ran it healthy and I enjoyed it. I led the TEAL mission for Hope For Heather with a crew cheering for me back in Syracuse and again, I enjoyed it! I crossed the line in 3:33:33. This time, I came to the line with the right speed training and with a healthy body. Once again, I PR’d from marathon to marathon.

This one is now the benchmark. It’s the benchmark for measuring my personal physical fitness and speed, and it’s the benchmark that I will use to help raise more money per mile for the next marathon.

Until my next post, be beautiful and genuine ― in other words, be you!

Part 1: Running a marathon while injured

Whether you’re training for something or not, enduring an injury is never fun. Unfortunately, I have had two experiences involving injury woes prior to running full marathons.

Photo: Farah Jadran in Chicago after completing her first full marathon.

On Oct. 9, 2011, I ran my first full marathon, the Chicago Marathon. While it was (and still is) a great experience because it was my first one, I ran it injured. Have you ever had someone step on your big toe’s nail with a high heel? I have… Twenty-two days out from my marathon the unthinkable happened. My nail on my left big toe was shattered. That was not even the worst part. 

The pain and constant bleeding of my left foot caused a compensation pain to move up my shin, to my knee and finally, my hip. I ran through the pain for the final weeks of training because I didn’t want to look back now, I was so close to the big day.

On the morning of the marathon, I woke up with a stiff left hip and shin, but also I was very fearful. Was I really going to run 26.2 miles when I could barely walk? Yes.

I had spent more than three months training for this race, so there was no way around it, but running through it. I managed to make it through every mile although the pain was increasing with every step. Each stride had a sharp pain and every foot strike was harder than the last. No matter what, I started to remember how I had not been able to run for years prior due to a bout with a cancer. Recovering from surgery and therapy was tough, but this was something that I had wanted for many years. And being in the moment, I was not going to let it pass me by.

I managed to run the entire marathon. I had not planned on walking but stopping had crossed my mind numerous times because of my injuries. However, I also knew that if I stopped, starting up again would be very painful!

I finished this marathon in 3:51:40. I finished 6,691 out of 35,755 runners and I was 1,463 out of 15,471 women. I was thrilled to finish in this fashion when I wasn't sure I would finish the entire time.

It’s a beautiful feeling to know that you can overcome something that seems cut and dry. In simple terms, I should not have been able to even complete half the marathon. And while it’s been said too many times and might sound overdone, your mind is stronger than your body, it is true. But in this case, my heart and soul also are stronger than my body. That strength is still true to this day.

The following year, I ran the 2012 Chicago Marathon and I ran it uninjured. I trained to run and finish comfortably, so there were no speed workouts or major training plans during my 17 weeks of training. No matter, I ran a 3:44:04. Any runner knows that running a PR without focused training means you’re capable of even faster times.

More on marathon No. 3 and running my first half-marathon are yet to come…

Until my next post, be beautiful and genuine ― in other words, be you!