Archive for the ‘Exercise’ Category

Getting in the Groove - Photo by Sian Proctor

Getting in the Groove – Photo by Sian Proctor


I have been an open water swimmer for about 5 years and have completed open water swims of varying lengths from 800 meters to over 6 miles.  I am not a professional by any means but I have had enough time and experience to become comfortable with the open water environment and offer some advice to others.  My experience has been primarily in lake waters since that is what I have access to so my advice will not include considerations unique to ocean swimming (of which there are plenty!). If you are a triathlete getting ready for your first race and it involves an OWS, or if you doing your first OWS as a stand-alone event, I recommend you consider the following things:

1. Wetsuit

  • Use one if allowed.
  • Get one that fits.
  • Rent or buy a used one to save money.
  • Practice in the open water with your wetsuit prior to your event.
  • Lube up around your neck, shoulders (if sleeveless suit), and wrists (Body glide or other).
  • Let it hang inside out to dry and store on a hanger when dry.

2. Goggles

  • Get ones that fit and don’t fog up.
  • Consider smoke color for sun protection.
  • Have several pairs the day of the race.
  • Practice adjusting them while treading in water over your head.
  • NEVER touch the lenses with your fingers.
  • Wipe them out with your tongue, then wet in water to clean.
  • To fit them at the store, stick them to your face without the strap. If they don’t fall off for about 10 seconds, they fit.

3. Sea Sickness

  • Earplugs help with motion sickness
  • Training a lot in open water helps you get over mild sea sickness

4. Breathing

  • Bilateral (both sides) will help you maintain a straight course
  • Waves and other swimmers being close may force you to breathe on one side
  • If water is wavy, time your breaths to avoid sucking in water

5. Sighting

  • Get a feel for the course (overview map) prior to the swim including any obstacles or danger areas.
  • Pick something large that is father away but in line with the buoy to site from
  • Develop a rhythm that seems to work…5 strokes, sight or 10 strokes, sight
  • Practice sighting in the pool by doing “head-up freestyle” drill for 50 – 100 m
  • Learn to sight quickly as part of your stroke and avoid stopping and going vertical
  • You can follow someone else if they are on a good line (and you can even draft)

6. Training

  • Train with longer pool sets prior to your race (1000 m or 1500 m depending on your race distance).
  • Train in open water if possible at least 3 – 4 times (or more) prior to your event. Never swim alone unless you are in an area with lifeguards present.

7. Swim Time

  • Swimming in open water always takes longer than the same distance in a pool.

8. Incidental Contact/Race Etiquette

  • Contact will occur with many people in the water. It is unavoidable.
  • It is the passing swimmers responsibility to go around the swimmer in front. If someone bumps you from behind, stay your course. They need to figure out how to go around you.
  • If you stop, don’t stop right at a buoy or you will get run over. Stop and look around you quickly to be sure you are not directly in someone’s way.

10. Swim Your Race

  • When race day comes, don’t worry about anyone else.
  • Do your warm-up and be ready when the starting horn sounds.
  • Be sure you know where to start, where to swim, and where to finish.
  • The first few minutes are a adrenaline rush so give yourself a chance to calm down and relax.
  • Find your space to swim where you can be comfortable but be aware of those around you and of the route you are swimming.
  • If you panic, just stop, relax and breathe.
  • If you need to rest, you can do so on a kayak as long as you do not make forward progress.
  • Enjoy the event and all the training and hard work you have put into swimming!

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Aug 2, 2011, 6:40 am

The water feels surprisingly warm on my toes and ankles as I step from Jim Thompson’s pebble beach at Kilroy Bay into the waters of Lake Pend Oreille. My sleeveless wetsuit protects my core and legs as I make my way into the lake for my pre-swim ritual; get in, let the water fill my wetsuit at the neck, walk out slowly as the moisture works it way down through my suit and out the bottom, reposition the wetsuit, then repeat the entire process. Standing in the lake looking toward Garfield Bay, I can just make out the trees far, far in the distance. Actually, I can’t see individual trees but more like a sold wall of dark green with one white house at the top. The numbers keep churning around in my head…5.3 miles…8500 meters…340 laps in the long course gym pool back in Phoenix…a solid four hours in the water and farther than I have ever swum previously. I take one last look at Garfield Bay from solid ground, position my goggles, and head out into the water.

Swim Start at Kilroy - Photo by Sian Proctor

May, 2008

I have been a regular resident at our Garfield Bay home every summer since 2001. Every year, the first Saturday in August, we drove across the Long Bridge and headed home to Phoenix. Every year, we would see hundreds of people gathered on the bridge waving and cheering to the swimmers below. I learned that this event was called the Long Bridge Swim and that it took place the first Saturday of August each year. From 2001 to 2006, as we made our way home and the swimmers made their way across Lake Pend Oreille I thought, “there is no way I could make that crossing”.  In 2007 as we stopped to let the buses cross in front of us I suddenly decided that I would try the swim the next year.

Life and work took over and it wasn’t until May of 2008 that I actually entered a pool to prepare. I joined SWAC (Sandpoint West Athletic Club) when I arrived in Idaho late May of 2008. The club has a masters swim group, but I was too scared to join. So, with the help of a couple of books and some YouTube videos on proper freestyle form, I ventured into the pool several times each week and made my way across the pool and back.

I learned very quickly (I mean I know, of course, but I REALLY learned) that humans cannot breathe water! Unfortunately, I had to learn this lesson over and over as I could barely swim 25 meters without gasping for breath or swallowing half the pool. Due to my lack of lung power and general lack of knowledge about efficient movement in the water (YouTube videos notwithstanding), I developed a sort of lurching motion that moved me more side-to-side than it did down the lane.

Eventually, I amassed enough yardage and after a few forays into the lake for practice, I felt I could manage the distance of the Long Bridge Swim. I finished the swim that year, using what my husband called “pollywog style” in just under 2 hours.

Aug 2, 2011, 6:45 am

“Wow, it’s really wavy out here, “I thought to myself as I took my first few strokes away from Kilroy Bay. Wind blew steadily out of Hope and the waves hit the right corner of my head making breathing a challenge and navigation almost impossible. Mike Ehredt was on his paddleboard next to me and would be there for the entire swim. I knew the waves were pretty bad when I could not see his feet or ankles on the board when breathing his direction. There’s something about being in the water, though, that makes the chop and waves not feel as bad. I knew I was being tossed and turned around a bit, but I just put my head down and kept turning my arms over. At some point, I saw Kate out of the corner of my eye stroking past me. She had started a few minutes after me and looked like she was settling into the waves as well.

Getting in the Groove - Photo by Sian Proctor

May, 2009

Time to think about getting ready for the Long Bridge Swim (LBS) again. I swam just a little bit during the spring of 2009 and had a few coaching lessons so felt I was making some progress. I was still too scared to swim with a masters group once I got to Idaho so I joined SWAC and embarked once again on my own training program. After doing my own thing for a few weeks, I got up the nerve to ask the masters coach if he thought I would do ok in his class. “Absolutely”, he said and , “we would love to have you”. The rest of that summer until the LBS, I trained with the pool group and hit the lake a few times. By this time, I had started working on bilateral breathing (both sides) and did not look as much like a pollywog, but my form was still very inefficient. I learned a lot from the coach but still had a VERY LONG way to go.  I swam the LBS and improved my time from the year before. However, I had such a bad day at that swim with nausea and feeling very slow in the water, that I decided I hated swimming and would never do it again.

Aug 2, 2011, 7:10 am

Time for the first feeding stop of the day. Mike crouched down on the paddleboard and handed me an open bottle.  We were planning on about 4 hours in the water and stopping every 30- 45 minutes for either water of fuel. My fuel was in the form of a Hammer Gel product called Perpetuem. Mixed with water, the powder provides fuel during exertion and, being in liquid form, allows me to digest it while swimming. Eating and swimming, or should I say digesting and swimming, are tricky things to do at the same time. I learned through training that I a) had to eat solid food at least 2+ hours before getting in the water b) could only ingest liquids during the swim (except for the occasional chocolate covered coffee bean) and c) had to eat no later than the first hour into swimming. Heartburn is a common malady of swimmers and you learn very quickly what you can and can’t eat and how long before you swim that you need to stop eating.

Feedting Time - Photo by Sian Proctor

May, 2010

Time to start thinking about the LBS again, BUT, I wasn’t swimming. The 2009 LBS was the last time I had been in the water and I had set my mind totally against ever swimming again. In fact, I seemed to have lost interest in working out at all and just dabbled in a few activities here and there. Being a competitive athlete in three to four sports my whole life, I was trained to gear up for “events”. Games, tournaments, and competitions kept me going in athletics for years. As an adult, playing on teams and competing in leagues or signing up for events always provided a way to stay active. With no events on the horizon and no LBS on my schedule, I floundered in a limbo of non-activity.  But, just because I wasn’t swimming didn’t stop my friends from swimming. Kate and Jodee, two of my good friends, were heading into Sandpoint at the end of July and both were planning to do the swim. When the day arrived, I shuttled them into town and took pictures from the bridge. Once the horn sounded and the mass of swimmers moved forward, I regretted my decision not to do the swim again. Right then, I planned on 2011 and I think I was the 12th person to register for the next year’s event.

Aug 8, 2010

Sometime shortly after the LBS swim on Aug 7 and before I packed up and headed back to Phoenix, Kate and I were sitting on the dock at our place. From the structure, we look out at the Green Monarchs and can see the houses of Kilroy Bay far in the distance.  Off and on over the years, we had talked about swimming from Kilroy back to Garfield. Usually, the conversation ended with, “yeah, you go ahead and don’t look but I will be right behind you”.  This time, however, the discussion was different. Some plans were made and logistics settled and we made the decision. 2011 would be our year to attempt the swim.

Aug 2, 2011, 9:00 am

The wind had finally diminished and I continued to take one stroke at a time across the lake.  On my right side, all I could see was lake and the mountains around Scotchman’s Peak. On my left, I could make out the houses and cliffs of Talache and knew I was making progress. I could no longer see Kate in from of me, but I could see the paddles of her support kayak coming out of the water on occasion and knew she was somewhere ahead and to my right. Turns out that her initial heading would have taken her to Green Bay off to the right and getting back on track took some time. 


Kate Waving - Photo Sian Proctor

One of the most challenging aspects of long distance swimming is boredom. Many swimmers quit during an event just because they get tired of being in the water and don’t seem to be making any headway. Once the initial flurry of activity related to getting in and settling in the water is over, the actual, “stroke, stroke, stroke” can get a little monotonous.  Every long distance swimmer adopts their own mental games and gymnastics to help them get through a long event. For me, counting strokes really helps. I get a sense of how far I have gone and the numbers hold a place in my mind that requires some concentration and prevents negative thoughts and self-talk from taking hold. The mind is such a powerful thing and really comes into play for long-distance swimming. Each number that I count is a stroke set (right-left-right or left-right-left) so if I count to 100 I have really traveled 300 strokes. I know about how many strokes for how many meters so I generally count to 300 and then go as far after that as possible before taking a break.

September 1, 2010

I returned to Phoenix with a sense of athletic purpose and determination related to swimming. This was the year I would really take on the sport and see what I could do. I started swimming regularly at my local gym then, in October, I finally joined a masters’ group near my home. Kate belonged to the same group and having a partner to get up three times a week at 5 am and swim from 5:15 – 6:30 helped a tremendous amount. There were many days that if Kate were not there, I would not have gone and vice versa. I swam with the masters’ group, swam some on my own, entered local events, had underwater filming done to analyze my swimming, and took private lessons from our master’s coach. I increased my mileage during the year and eventually swam a 4000 meter (2.5) mile race in May. Once I arrived in Idaho, I trained with Mike Ehredt. He had me focus on swimming 4 – 6 times per week with increasingly longer training swims each week then work on core and balance exercises on land. By the time the day of the swim arrived, I felt anxious but ready.

Aug 2, 2011, 10:15 – 10:42 am

As I came into Garfield Bay and begin to spot familiar landmarks, I started to pick up speed. Neighbors and family were out on their docks waving and providing support. The Sheriff Marine unit came by and provided a final escort into the beach with lights and siren blaring. As I approached the beach I churned my arms faster and moved as quickly as I could. Suddenly, the bottom of the lake appeared and touched my hands to the sand. Friends and family greeted me and helped me exit the water. Final time for me was 4:02 and for Kate was 3:50. We felt really good and solid with our effort and extremely thankful for all the support. There was no time during the swim that I thought I would not make it even though there were plenty of times I thought about how far I still had to go. My training and preparation had made me ready for the day and the support crews allowed me (and Kate) to focus on just swimming.


Sheriff Escort - Photo Sian Proctor

Swimmers and Crew - Photo Sian Proctor

Aug 7, 2011

Yesterday, I swam the LBS for the third time. The event was as fun as ever and, though mentally very challenging to enter the water again so soon after the Kilroy swim, I eventually settled in and had a good time. During the LBS, I thought a lot about this sport of swimming. It is not one that I came to naturally or easily. Though I grew up playing sports, I did not grow up swimming (other than learning not to drown) and there are some movements particular to efficient swimming that are challenging to learn as an adult if they are not ingrained when young. Someone close to me asked if I had “gotten swimming out of my system” and would now let it go. The question really bothered me at first but the more I thought the more I realized it had merit. So, as I stroked my way, one arm at a time, through the LBS this year I tried to answer the question realistically for myself. I thought and thought and swam and swam and as I raised my arms in and out of the cool waters of Lake Pend Oreille, I had my answer. “No!” And again, “NO, I have NOT gotten swimming out of my system. I think what I have done is gotten swimming INTO my system and my plan is for it to never get out!” As Eric Ridgway (LBS organizer) says, “Swimming is for Life” and now I believe that and plan to act on it as well.

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One week from today I will probably be losing sleep thinking about one week from tomorrow. Heck, I am already losing sleep!

One week from tomorrow, I will swim from Kilroy Bay to Garfield Bay in Idaho’s Lake Pend Oreille, a distance of about 5.3 miles. That distance is short enough to accomplish but long enough to have plenty of time to ask myself, over and over, “Now, why am I doing this again?”

My friend Kate will be swimming with me on this adventure although, in open water, you don’t really swim together. You just happen to both be attempting the swim at the same time.

The Green Monarchs of Idaho and Kilroy Bay


  • First “go date” is Tuesday Aug 2.
  • Planned time of departure from Kilroy is sometime between 2 pm and 3 pm depending on the weather. Afternoons have been smoother and warmer on the lake here this summer unless we have a storm coming in.
  • We will be supported by two kayaks (one each) and at least one support boat.
  • We will be wearing wetsuits.
  • Anticipated completion time is somewhere around 7 pm.
  • For locals in the bay, we would love to hear you cheering us on. You can either hang on your deck or join us in the water by boat (from a safe distance…nothing worse than tasting boat fuel or experiencing boat chop while swimming) or on the shore at the public beach. We are going to aim for coming right down the middle of Garfield Bay.
  • For those in Idaho, check the Daily Bee on July 31 for a story (thanks, Dave Gunter!). Here is a follow-up with summary of the swim.
  • For those in Phoenix, check the Arizona Republic in Aug 18 for a story.


Both Kate and I have been training hard for this event and we have each done 4+ mile training swims in the last few weeks. Barring extremely weird weather or illness, we should both be prepared for the distance.


I want to take this space for a huge, huge, THANK YOU to those who have donated money, time, or supplies to the efforts of the Aogaah Foundation. Raising money for this charity is the primary focus of this swim. Your contributions will directly impact the lives of over 200 impoverished Cambodian schoolchildren.

Children of Aogaah - Photo by Sian Proctor, 2011

If you want to donate, there is still time to do so. We have currently raised $3200 of the $5000 needed for next school year so we still have $1800 left to go. Even small amounts go a long way and $60 will fund one child for an entire school year. Visit the Aogaah site for donation information and remember that all your funds are a) tax deductible and b) go directly to support the education of the Aogaah children.

Video about the swim event/Aogaah

Aogaah School, May, 2011 - Photo by Sian Proctor

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Swimming 5+ miles, when one has not had a lifetime of training as a swimmer, is a major undertaking. Swimming 5+ miles in a lake the size and temperament of Lake Pend Oreille in North Idaho is another type of undertaking entirely. Yet, on Aug 2, 2011 making that trek across the lake with my friend Kate is what I propose to do. Kilroy Bay to Garfield Bay…right across the lake…one long, straight shot.

The swim is not part of a large, organized event. Rather, it is two swimmers with a plan. The plan emerged from years of Garfield Bay happy hours spent dreamily gazing across the lake at the faraway town of Kilroy. Conversations that started as “We should swim from here to Kilroy Bay” eventually evolved to “When should we swim from here to Kilroy Bay?” and then made the final transformation to, “THIS year we swim to Kilroy Bay.”

Although early planning focused on swimming FROM Garfield Bay TO Kilroy Bay, further discussion and thought resulted in altering the plan to swim from KILROY to GARFIELD. Given normal, daily wind and water conditions that vary from calm and placid to rough and swelling, the adjustment seemed like a good idea.  Normal winds blow into Garfield Bay and could help push us in at the end.

In addition to being a fitness challenge and certainly the most difficult thing I have ever taken on (even more difficult than 43 miles in one day in the Grand Canyon), the event is being used to spearhead fund raising for a foundation that supports schoolchildren in Cambodia.

Links for more information include:

Stay tuned to this blog for more information and updates as the event approaches.

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I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I HATE swimming. I just always feel better AFTER I do it than WHILE I am doing it. Well, most of the time the former statement is true. There are those moments, seconds really, when the breathing feels right, my suit, goggles, and cap feel right, and the water feels like my friend and not my foe. In those microseconds when all seems to be working as it should, then I feel like I can fly. As I take each stroke and turn my head to breath, I feel the wake of water indicating forward movement and I see the shapes on the shore move by.

You see…as a child I did not learn to swim. All I really learned was how not to drown…and I have been not drowning, every time I get in the water, for years.

My first real memorable experience with the water had to do with an ill-placed bet I made with my father at the tender age of about seven. I happened to be early for swim lessons the day before and, to my bewilderment, could stand in the pool and touch bottom right next to the sign that said 5’.  Now, I knew that I was not 5’ tall…not even close… but the overwhelming evidence to the contrary was right before my eyes! I could not put together the logic as to why I could stand at this depth and keep my head above the water nor could I deny that it was true.  Maybe some kind of miracle was involved? Maybe I had grown overnight? Whatever the reason I wasn’t too worried about it but I knew I had to tell someone. So, at dinner that night, I told my father.

“Dad”, I said almost breathless with excitement. “I stood up in 5’ of water today!”

I can remember the sequence of moments that followed as if they happened just yesterday.  My father, quiet and contemplative sitting on the other side of the table just letting the words sink in and, I am certain, running through the list of 1,000 possible replies. Then, with his response selected, leaning over the table with a gleam in his eyes and saying, “I bet you can’t stand up in 5 feet of water”.  Pausing, he then added, “in fact, if you can stand up in 5 feet of water, I will give you anything you want”.

If there was ever a moment in my life that I can define as the first, dumbest moment of my life, this would be it.  The overwhelming generosity of his offer coupled with the absolute certainty that I had the data to PROVE I could do it overrode the logic circuits of my brain and I blurted out, “A pony! I want a pony!” (Doesn’t every seven-year old want a pony?).

My mind went into pony overdrive! Where would we keep it? What would I name it? My friends were going to be so jealous. I just KNEW I had this one in the bag! Swimming lessons took place again the following day and my father agreed to take me. If I could stand with my head above water next to the 5’ sign, then that pony was mine. So confident was I that I all but asked if we could stop and buy a horse trailer on the way to the pool.

Next day dawned after an excited and sleepless night. We loaded into the car and headed down to the local pool. As we entered through the front gate and made our way to the kids’ area, I began to feel a gnawing sense of doubt. “Why did the water look higher than yesterday?” I said to myself.  But, armed with the vision of the single data point I had collected the day before, I headed into the pool next to the 5’ sign. As I tread water, I tried in vain to reach the tips of my toes to the bottom of the pool while keeping my mouth above the water line.  I reached and I stretched and I reached. I tried standing on my head upside down even though that was not part of the bet. Over and over again I tried to reconcile the new data I was collecting today with the information I knew was true from the day before.

Chagrined and slightly humiliated, I knew the pony was done. In fact, I should have known that the day before but had fallen victim to a really strong case of denial. I am not certain that the pony-pool incident kept me from getting into swimming more as a kid, but I sure do remember it like it was yesterday. I wonder if my father remembers it the same way that I do?

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Temps were in the high 60’s and dropping slowly as I started my 8 – midnight shift last night as a Finish Line Catcher for the 2008 Ironman in Tempe, AZ. I chose the last shift for a couple of reasons. First, I know the people who come in after 8 pm have been on the course a long time and need lots of encouragement to get across the line. Second, I wanted to be part of the magic that is an Ironman and make a contribution in some way.

As I donned my latex gloves and cherished t-shirt, I took my place in line behind the other volunteers. Our captain, Claudia, had provided an orientation and information session the previous day, so I had some idea of what to expect. A very organized assembly line had been set up for the main purpose of moving the athletes from the finish line through the medal station, t-shirt and hat station, chip removal station, and photo-op location in a supportive yet timely manner. For those that needed extra assistance, a crack medical staff was standing by to provide an escort to the medical aid tent.

The bulk of the finishers crossed the line between 8 and 10 pm. As each one appeared at the start of the finish line chute, the announcer and crowd in the bleachers went wild. Reading the name of each person and where they were from Mike Reilly, known as the Voice of Ironman, would end with the four words every participant waited 140.6 miles to hear: “YOU ARE AN IRONMAN”. Each person experienced the thrill of crossing, arms raised, through the tape and across the last line as the Finish Line Tape Holders worked furiously to restring the tape for every runner.

Once they crossed the finish line, the job of the Finish Line Catcher began. There were two of us, one on each side, to support them as they moved through the different stations. As soon as they crossed the line we were right there throwing a space blanket around their shoulders. As we walked with them, holding them tightly in case their legs buckled, the conversations would go something like this….

” So and so…where are you from? Is this your first race? Yes? Well, Congratulations! YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!”


“So and so…where are you from? Is this your first race? No? Well, Congratulations! YOU ARE AN IRONMAN AGAIN!”

Over and over and over this sequence was repeated as over 1000 finishers crossed the line during my shift. Specific details of the night are already starting to fade (chalk that up to staying up to late…), but here are some things that stick in my mind:

  • The 76-year old man who, after having open-heart surgery in January, finished his third Ironman of the year. His comment? “Just steer me to my wife. She is waiting for me.”
  • The man who just completed his 106th Ironman and his seventh this year.
  • The runners who came determinedly across the line and then passed out as soon as they reached our arms
  • The 50+ woman from Japan who finished in fine form
  • The smiles, the tears, the jubilation, and the relief of those who just completed probably the most difficult event of their lives…

And, as the clock wound down to the official cutoff time of 17 hours, we all waited anxiously in anticipation. Craning our necks to see down the chute we held our breaths and watched for the outline of an approaching runner. Five minutes to go, four minutes to go, then…at three minutes to go we see her. She appears at the far end of our vision and shuffles slowly toward the finish line. The crowd in the bleachers goes crazy with shouts and cheers and cow bells clanging. “Go, go, go! You can make it!” And slowly, step by step, she inches closer with the clock counting down. With just two minutes to go, she crossed the line. I am in place to grab her. Her eyes rimmed with tears and her face held in a position of exhaustion, relief, and disbelief she is so shocked that no words can come. Friends of hers gathered at the finish line huddle around with hugs and support as they move her through her medal, t-shirt, and photo station. She had DNF’d a couple of times before, but this time she made it! SHE IS AN IRONMAN!

As the clock wound down to 17 hours and no other runners approached, the volunteers began to disperse. Shaking hands and giving hugs we promised to be back to support again next year. As we turned to go we looked back and saw one more runner coming down the chute. She would not make the cutoff, but we ran up to escort her just the same. In our minds, she was an Ironman as well.

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Over the weekend, my sister-in-law Peggy competed in the Javelina Jundred Ultra Marathon. In this crazy event, participants ran laps around a 15.33 mile course in McDowell Mountain Park near Fountain Hills. To reach 100 miles, they needed 6 full laps and one partial.

Lots of people try and do the event in 24 hours or less, but the cutoff is 30 hours. If you finish in 30 hours, you are an official finisher and get a belt buckle or some other prize.

Well over 150 people registered but by my last count (around 6 am on Sunday) at least 70 had dropped out early. As Peggy ran throughout the morning and afternoon on Saturday, I could monitor her progress via the web. Being scheduled to pace her on the last lap, I wanted to be rested and fresh in order to be of most use to her during the final push.

Her first laps went well and she was in fine form. Lap 4 was her first paced lap and brother-in-law Paul stepped in to assist. Lap 5 seemed to be the most difficult taking her almost 7 hours to complete. Peggy or sister-in-law Jenny will have to provide input on that segment as I only heard about it second hand. The last full lap was paced by Mary.

When I arrived (around 7:00 am), Peggy and Mary were over halfway through the last full lap. Jenny was resting and awoke around 8 to get ready for Peggy’s return. While we were waiting at the main aid station, we readied the supplies requested by Peggy: some chicken broth, a coke, water, protein drink, some chips, oreos, etc…

Around 9:00 we were starting to get worried. Participants who were not headed out on the last lap by 10 am would not be allowed to continue. At about 9:20, we looked up to see Peggy and Mary approaching the timing area. Peggy headed full steam (as much as possible) to the aid station, quickly restocked, and she was on her way. Jenny and Mary decided to go along to pace as well, so the three of us set out.

The desert is beautiful this time of year (November) and today was no exception. As we headed up the only hill on the 8+ mile segment, the surrounding views of the McDowell mountains and 4-peaks provided a source of inspiration (for us pacers, anyway…) Not sure if anything could have inspired Peggy at that point other than a direct transport to the finish line. She was tired and her body was hurting beyond belief. I was amazed to see her still chugging along and putting one foot in front of the other. Time was of the essence as she had only 2 hours and 40 minutes to complete the race. So, we pushed her as much as we could. One of us walked behind her (and pushed when necessary) and the other two walked in front. Her goal was to get to the last aid station as quickly as possible leaving extra time to complete the last segment (about 3 miles).

One step at a time she motored along. By that point in the race she had covered over 90 miles and was feeling every bump and every incline or decline in the trail. It took us about an hour and 50 minutes to get to the aid station (which, we were convinced, had been removed as it never seemed to get any closer). Thinking we were home free and only 3 miles to go, the aid worker reported that we had 53 minutes to cover 3.7 miles. Yowza! Given that it had just taken Peggy almost 2 hours to cover 4+ miles, we were all thinking she wouldn’t make it.

Peggy, however, had other ideas. Before we knew it she had downed a drink and a snack and took off RUNNING down the trail. Mary and I looked at each other and took off after her leaving Jenny to fill water bottles and catch up. We literally had to run Peggy down on the trail and still had a hard time catching her. She seemed to have saved a little cache of energy for the last push and was using it to full advantage. We finally caught her and pushed ahead (seeing as how WE were supposed to be pacing HER. Or, as Mary kept reminding me, it was supposed to be MY pacing shift).

We ran with Peggy for probably 3 miles and headed into the last mile section with about 20 minutes to go. Mary and I pushed out in front to lead the way and Jenny, who had caught up, helped push Peggy from behind. The whole last mile we were yelling and encouraging her and commenting on how close she was. When we saw the road crossing leading into the last segment of trail, I knew we were close. As we rounded the corner into the campground, I could see the time clock with plenty of time. Peggy crossed the line at 29 hours, 53 minutes, and some seconds to the hoots and hollers of the small crowd that was gathered.

WHAT an accomplishment for her. There are many people who do not understand the draw and obsession of competing in an endurance event. I have never done 100 miles, but I have done almost 50 and I can imagine a tiny bit of what she was feeling. I know that I was feeling great joy for her having finished and for the opportunity to help push her along for the last little bit. Getting her through the last 10 miles (well, the last 40, really) was a team effort and the pacing work paid off in spades. She did it! Wow.

Congratulations, Peggy! I will pace you anytime (although she did say to try and discourage her from future long distance events). You can pay me back for Ironman Tempe 2010!


Photo Credits: Will LaFollette

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