12.31.02 - Washington Resolution Run
01.19.03 - San Diego Marathon
07.13.03 - Tri For Real #2
10.23.05 - Nike Women's Half Marathon
11.23.06 - Sparks Turkey Trot
05.05.07 - Marathon de Mayo (Half)
05.13.07 - Moms on the Run
10.??.07 - Nike Women's Half Marathon
05.10.08 - Moms on the Run
06.21.09 - Pleasanton Spirit 5K
07.29.09 - San Francisco Half Marathon
10.04.09 - SJ Rock 'N Roll Half Marathon
10.18.09 - Nike Women's Half Marathon
11.01.09 - New York Marathon
11.26.09 - Spark's Turkey Trot 10K
02.20.10 - Bay Breeze Half Marathon
03.14.10 - Shamrock 'N Half Marathon
03.21.10 - LA Marathon
03.27.10 - Scheel's Fanatic 5K
04.25.10 - Marin County Half Marathon
05.02.10 - Reno Rock 'N River Half Marathon
06.05.10 - See Jane Run Half Marathon
07.25.10 - San Francisco Half Marathon
09.05.10 - Pier to Peak Half Marathon
10.10.10 - Chicago Marathon
10.30.10 - Healdsburg Half Marathon
11.07.10 - U.S. Half Marathon
11.25.10 - Scheels Turkey Trot 10K
02.06.11 - Surf City Half Marathon
03.13.11 - Dublin Shamrock 5K
04.18.11 - Boston Marathon
05.01.11 - Big Sur Marathon
06.11.11 - Lake Tahoe Relay
07.31.11 - San Francisco Half Marathon
09.11.11 - Walnut Festival Run 5K
09.18.11 - NorCal Half Marathon
11.24.11 - Scheels Turkey Trot
12.03.11 - Las Vegas Santa Suit 5K
12.04.11 - Las Vegas Half Marathon
03.11.12 - South Bay Duathlon
03.25.12 - Oakland Half Marathon
05.20.12 - Morgan Hill Sprint Triathlon
06.24.12 - Silicon Valley Intl. Triathlon
07.15.12 - Ironman 70.3 Vineman Triathlon
03.09.13 - Lucky 13 Half Marathon
04.28.13 - Eugene Half Marathon
05.11.13 - Folsom International Triathlon
5k:19:17 @ Dublin Shamrock 5k 2011
10k: 41:01 @ Scheel's Turkey Trot 2010
Half:1:30:07 @ Oakland Half 2012
Full: 3:31:44 @ Boston Marathon 2011
70.3: 5:20:07 @ Vineman 2012
Category Archives: Life
I apologize for being that annoying person who keeps ambiguously hinting at something but never reveals what said secret is. I have been that person for the past month because this news is big, crazy, exciting, scary and going to take my little family’s life down a completely new path. So here we go…
Today was my last day at my job as my career dreams are becoming a reality: I’ll be moving to Portland this July to start my new job at Nike! I still can’t quite believe this is happening…
My over-the-moon enthusiasm should be evident as this is quite literally my dream job. Career-wise, this decision was a no-brainer and it is a fantastic fit for both my skill set and my passions. However, there are a few very important details that will be challenging over the next year: Chicken Face still has a year left in grad school and we had to have some very serious conversations.
Long story short, we have decided to do the long distance thing for a bit (with joint custody of Lola) and will survive on a hefty diet of FaceTime, Skype and Southwest RapidReward points (it’s only an hour an a half flight). Personal details aside, we know it won’t be easy, but we also know that it’s for the best and I am so very appreciative of the opportunity and for my family supporting me as we make this big move.
So why am I telling you this and providing all of these additional, personal details? To be honest, I’m absolutely pumped for the job, but so very nervous/scared to be away from my husband and dog for that long. Plus, I have only been to Portland once in my life and that was for the interview and I only know two “in-real-life” friends and one Internet buddy who live there.
I have so many questions (do they have a lot of triathlons? Good cycling hill climbs? Is it all free love and organic?) and I would love to meet new people, make new friends, eat at new restaurants, explore new rides, run new trails, and keep my heart full while I’m away from my family. With that, I ask you…
Where should I go?! Who should I meet?! What races should I do?! What should I see?!
Now to pack for an Ironman and a huge move…Happy Running!
Thanks for all of your great questions on my earlier post, but one came up that warranted a post of its own as I receive it quite frequently.
Mary asked, “How do you fit in/balance the all the training + work + all the things in life that need to be done (grocery shopping, home maintenance, etc.)?”
Well, Mary. I hate to disappoint, but I don’t. It’s simply impossible and I don’t even have kids!
Let’s back up a bit first. My choice to do an Ironman was a strategic decision. At this point in my life, I don’t own a house, I don’t have kids, my current job is quite steady and doesn’t require much travel, and my husband works full time and goes to school at night for his MBA (thus, is extremely busy too). When I first decided to make the jump to an Iroman (the IMAZ days), it was a conversation with my husband, my potential coach, and an open understanding that this would be a massive time commitment. Unfortunately, I don’t think my husband quite understood what we got ourselves into…twice.
One sprained ankle, one DNS, two training cycles and a year and a half later…there is no easy answer other than balance is really tough. And to be quite honest, it’s trying on a relationship. I won’t force you to wear the rose-colored glasses here: Chicken Face and I have had our fair share of arguments about time, priorities and my training.
In addition, my house is a disaster, I have worn my hair in a wet bun to work for the past four months, a Target trip is the only shopping I do, I’ve been trying to get through the same book for the last six months, I haven’t seen my non-tri friends in a really long time (thankfully they are athletes too and understand), my family reminds me how little they see me, and any social interactions that I do have are cut short by me saying, “It’s 8:30. It’s late. I gotta get home because I have a big training day tomorrow.” Quite frankly, your entire life is scheduled around your training.
But wait! Don’t go running in the other direction!
While Ironman training is no easy task, there is so much to gain from it. Outside of the physical gains, I have been introduced to so much that I wasn’t aware of before and my cup now feels full of adventure and growth. I have also found new passions that make my heart smile, for example, cycling. I am madly in love with this new sport. I’ve also discovered gorgeous places, made amazing new few friends, have learned how to be alone with my thoughts, how to overcome disappointment, and actually, how to balance my life and communicate with my husband even more than before.
Something strange also happens: when you make something a priority, it just gets done and the other priorities in your life seem to fall into place as they should be.
Wendy also asked, “When you look back at all the hours and hours of training you did, do you regret putting in that much time? Did you sacrifice husband time or family time?”
Whoa, Wendy. Deep question.
Again, to be completely honest, I often feel guilty. I know that my training requires a huge amount of time focused solely on myself. Yes, it’s selfish. My husband is great at supporting me, but he isn’t an endurance athlete himself, nor is anyone in my family. Thus, it’s just “Page being crazy” and wonder when the addiction will stop.
But no, I don’t regret the sacrifices I’ve made. Because in the end, you only regret that chances you didn’t take.
Ironman training IS a serious investment that has it’s highs and lows, but I love it. Just be honest in the time investment, make sure that it fits with your life and have a support system in place. Those people (e.g. my husband) are critical to your success, just be sure to return the favor.
Now it’s your turn: how do you try to find balance between training, life and family?
My dad should have been Yoda.
Yoda and I.
This is no exaggeration as his mantras are not only a regular part of my life, but are heavily scattered throughout this blog. On paper, they sound like 100 percent cheddar cheese, but when they’re coming from my dad, it’s nothing but authentic dad-isms.
I thought I had heard them all, but recently I was in a bit of a sticky situation and called my dad to get some perspective. I was ready to give up and he laid it out straight, “You can either be a baby or a warrior. You choose…It’s a choice that you will have to make every day and the good thing is that you get a choice. Now make it.”
It was a little tough love, but it was exactly what I needed to hear.
That day, I chose to be a warrior and it’s that same cheese-ball mantra that carried me through my first open water swim of the season.
I arrived at the lake early to ensure that I could get in and do my drills prior to the group swim. I squeezed myself into my wetsuit for the first time this season and slowly waded into the water to start finding my anxiety-free place.
I started by going completely under water.
Then putting my face in the water and blowing bubbles.
I proceeded by doing breaststroke to the open water swim lanes, took a deep breath and told myself, “You’re either a baby or a warrior. Choose one.”
And then I swam, talked to myself, and swam a bit more.
I popped my head up after my quick warm-up and knew that I had made my choice and everything was going to be ok.
I soon met up with the group and proceeded to swim the entire open water workout without any anxiety, constantly reminding myself of my new-found favorite mantra.
Whether it’s open water swimming, clipping in, standing up for what you believe in, battling illnesses, or facing your fears, my dad reminded me that we are given an incredible gift every single day and you get to choose the outcome: are you going to be a baby or a warrior?
Once you’ve chosen your answer…the rest is easy.
If you asked me about kids more than 72 hours ago, I’d say, “Umm…yeah. Cute.” Then that would be the end of my conversation.
Sure they’re cute and cuddly, but I never really had a strong connection to anything that wore a diaper. But this weekend changed everything — my nephew, my god son, and the first baby in our family was born and O.M.G. I can’t get enough.
Welcome baby Kaleb.
Kaleb’s mom (my sister) had a tough 50-hour labor and we anxiously spent the weekend in the hospital waiting for his arrival. When he came, we were all instantly obsessed.
He may live another state over, but I can’t wait to take him running… err…I mean take him to ice cream… err…I mean do whatever normal aunts do. He’s not even my kid and I just can’t wait to spoil him rotten.
2012 was a year of firsts. Overcoming fears and tackling the “somedays.”
Sometimes when you’re on the journey to achieving those “somedays”, you don’t quite realize the path that you’re on and what you had truly experienced until it’s over. From zero swimming to over two miles, from zero biking to over 100 miles… it’s amazing what a year can do. But you often don’t see it until you look back and realize that once again, your dad was on to something there… it’s not about the goal, but the journey.
Unlike the prior year, this week I was fully aware of the journey that I was on. It was full of firsts that I immediately recognized and celebrated.
My first “long” run outside without my brace.
My first “long” ride back outside.
Both of these workouts were done solo and started with a bit of trepidation. What happens if I can’t make it that far? Can it hold up without a brace? Do I remember how to shift? The juvenile nay-saying thoughts it my head were there and so was a cautious confidence.
It had rained the night before my run and my overly-cautious self was debating whether or not a run on wet concrete was wise. After all if I could slip on dry asphalt, I sure as hell could slip on wet concrete. If you can’t tell by now, I’m determined to never injure myself out of pure stupidity again.
I disregarded the concrete as a potential hazard and decided it was ok to run. Low and behold, I was fine. I made my way through six miles of brace-free running and was even pleasantly surprised with my pace. Not where it was in the past, but getting better. I may have even bust out a happy dance when I got home.
The following day, it was time for some QT with Dora. With a little tire-pumping action and re-gathering of all my bike gear, I was physically prepared. Mentally, I still had dubious thoughts. But wouldn’t ya know, I clipped in and found out that riding my bike was just like… well, riding a bike.
I seamlessly hopped on, popped into aero and was reminded of just how much I love riding. It’s a combination of endorphins and adrenaline all supported by an ever-present breeze that just makes you smile. I rode two hours throughout some of the normal routes that I had grown to know quite well and found my place again in the saddle.
With two first both recognized and celebrated, I was on a training high. I smiled, I blabbed on about it and I declared: I’m ready to get back at it.
So tomorrow, doubt your doubts and have confidence in you confidence. And most importantly, don’t forget to celebrate your journey along the way.
This weekend, my little sister got married and I was so excited to be a part of her special day.
It was an intimate ceremony followed by a private dinner with just immediate family. It was after the ceremony that she also passed out these adorable little cards that revealed the baby’s gender: I’m going to have a nephew!
I’m so, so excited for my sister, my now brother-in-law (who we all adore) and my soon-to-be godson (did I mention that too?!). I say this not only to celebrate their marriage, but also to mention how completely selfish I feel.
Training for an Ironman makes me feel incredibly selfish.
Let’s take my sister’s wedding for example. Chicken Face and I left California Thursday afternoon and made the 3.5 hour drive to Nevada. I saw my sister for a bit and heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time, then went to sleep only so I could wake up and get my long run in before the wedding festivities began. I thought I had planned accordingly but at mile 8 of what was supposed to be a 16 mile run, I got a phone call from my sister.
“Hey…gasp…gasp…gasp…I’m running. I’ll be home in an hour or so.”
“AN HOUR?! I thought we were going to breakfast!?”
Granted, I wasn’t aware of any breakfast plans, but it was her wedding day and I thought I’d be back before she even woke up. Thus, I cut the run two miles short and made it home as quickly as possible for a total of 14. All was fine in the end, but that day was supposed to be about her, not my training.
To take it to the next level, not only did we drive up Thursday night, celebrate the nuptials on Friday at 4 and dinner at 6, but we had to leave that night by 10:30 in order to get home in time to get some sleep for a big training day on Saturday. Not only did we leave that night, but Chicken Face drove into the early morning hours just so I could get some sleep. He never complained once. Man I love that kid.
I felt horrible about the entire thing and it made me miss my family terribly, but I also felt that it was the best solution – October is critical as it is peak training time and the long workouts are key. I had to make sacrifices to make it all work.
These examples are just the tip of the iceberg because when they say that you have to sacrifice during Ironman training, they weren’t exaggerating. In fact, I think no one really warns you.
I’ve missed birthdays.
I’ve missed sleep.
I’ve missed mother’s day.
I’ve missed blogging.
I’ve missed father’s day.
I’ve missed races.
I’ve missed seeing friends.
I’ve missed post-work outings.
I’ve missed taking care of Lola the way a good puppy parent should.
I’ve missed being with my family.
And most regrettably, I’ve missed being with my husband.
All to hopefully say that I’ll be an Ironman one day.
When I look at the list of just some of the things I’ve sacrificed in the name of the Ironman, especially over an entire year, it would be easy to dismiss this entire thing as being trivial. Why do this? Look at all of the genuinely important things you’ve missed! However, I need to look at it a different way.
Yes, my journey to (hopefully) becoming an Ironman was a year in my life that nine times out of 10, I had to put myself and my training first. You have to. If you don’t train, you won’t finish. I’m almost having difficulty writing this because it sounds so awful, but I had to be selfish. But by choosing to go from zero to 100 and tackle a full Ironman with minimal triathlon experience, I was wandering into uncharted waters in an effort to discover myself, face my fears, and to see what I’m made of. And all the while, I learned that it’s because I really love it. It is what makes me the happiest and most complete.
What I’ve learned about myself since then is another post itself, but I will tell you this. I’m thankful for the people around me who have forgiven my absence and still supported this journey.
Most importantly, thank you to Chicken Face for putting up with my never-ending messes, stacks of water bottles, CarboPro dust everywhere, load after load of laundry, the helmet in the shower, the wet bathing suits drying throughout our bathroom, our increased grocery bills, the drawers full of fuel, the bike still sitting out on the trainer in the living room, falling asleep far too early, abusing the ballerina bun hairstyle, the never-ending Amazon orders, my incessant rambling about all things Ironman, my moodiness, my freak outs, my breakdowns, my happy moments, and most importantly, being part of this wild ride. We’re almost there.
Well, my blog title no longer applies. Not that it was ever meant to refer to my age, but it played along nicely over the last year.
Goodbye mid-twenties and hellllllo late twenties — funny how just one year can make such a bold statement.
This birthday was spent consuming an entire bottle of Dom in twenty minutes with Chicken Face (sacrilege!), the best salmon of my life and some QT time with my favorite people. Next weekend I celebrate with the fam as they are back in town, but for now, here’s a look at what the beginning of 27 looked like.
I convinced Chicken Face to come to yoga with me. He just loved it.
Post yoga Starbucks and walk to the farmer’s market with Lola. I love suburbia.
We finally busted open a wedding present and enjoyed every drop.
Birthday dinner with Chicken Face.
Followed by birthday brunch and mimosas.
Surprise fruit cheesecake from, you guessed it, Safeway.
Chicken Face did a very good job.
And then we got our family portrait taken.
Earlier this week as I was packed like a sardine on Bart and flipping through Running Times magazines, I stumbled upon an article by former marathon Olympian, Don Kardong. In this article, he retells the tale of his fourth place finish at the 1976 Olympics and offers advice to this year’s Olympic marathon team. But beyond his humorous anecdotes I found one quote that struck me…
If I had to sum up my journey thus far into the sport of triathlon, I couldn’t pick anything better to describe it than a delusion of grandeur. Sign up for a full Ironman without really being able to swim or not knowing the first thing about how to ride a bike? Sure, why not. It’s clear why people questioned my decision, let alone my sanity.
Yet contrary to what “they” believed, I vowed to completely immerse myself in a brand new sport and wouldn’t let anyone or anything discourage me.
I didn’t have the right gear, I barely know how to change a flat, my swim stroke is off, I am constantly battling my open water fear, and I still don’t understand Yankz.
But this little delusion of mine is what I look forward to every day. I can unequivocally say that for the past 32 week, triathlon and everything about it has become my passion and has helped me redefine who I am and who I want to be.
I will flail aimlessly in the water, I will sport neon green, I will name my bike after children’s cartoons, I will call myself a Fred with pride, I will wave for the camera, and most of all, I will have fun.
This Sunday is the biggest stepping stone in my Ironman journey yet: Vineman 70.3. To say that I’m nervous would be an understatement and I’m extremely worried about my knee right now. I have my A, B and C goals all listed in my head, I’m all packed and I’m waiting for Chicken Face to get home so we can hit the road.
It’s time for the next step…
Here’s to delusions of grandeur and most importantly…Happy Running!
P.S. I’m # 1778 and will be tweeting and Instagramming to the point of obnoxiousness.
… Chicken Face saying, “Ok, I’ll go. Let’s bring Lola too.”
… The aforementioned husband also offering to drive.
… The early morning, hour long drive to Half Moon Bay in your PJs.
… Being dropped off to meet my coach’s cycling group while Chicken Face finds a place to settle down and work.
… Riding along highway one and through the hills of Half Moon bay for three glorious hours.
… Breathtaking ocean views
… Never-ending hills that, for the first time, I felt incredibly strong on (for my level).
… Eating and drinking for the first time on my bike without falling off.
… Reaching the top of the series of hills and literally pumping my fists in the air channeling my inner rocky.
… Doing it all while proudly sporting bright green.
… “Showering” with baby wipes.
… Meeting Chicken Face and Lola to spend the rest of the day discovering Half Moon Bay’s hidden gems.
… Including the worlds best artichoke bread in Pescadero.
… Waves harmoniously crashing on the empty beach.
… Weather warm enough to warrant shorts.
… And most importantly, being with my two favorite people in the world.
Yes, perfection does exist.
What does your perfect day look like?
I contemplated writing this. I contemplated what the title should be even more. I contemplated adding a photo. I couldn’t think anymore so I moved on.
I hate complaining when I know that my problems are laughable in comparison to those who have real struggles. But I would like to think of this blog as a place for me to share my experiences with anyone who is willing to listen and maybe, just maybe, what I learned can help someone else out there. Even if it’s just one person. So here goes…
I love my job. I genuinely, honestly do. I am so fortunate to work in an emerging field where we are pioneering what’s to come. I also love the people I work with and the clients we work for. They are all incredibly smart and literally the hardest workers I know. With that being said, this week was one of the most intense work events of my life. The tally thus far is 92 hours of pure high-energy exertion for the week (not counting my two and a half hour commute each day). I know that our hard work is definitely evident in the results and I couldn’t be more proud of them and the team. However, when I flew home from LA yesterday, I continued to work and have a glass of wine. I got thoroughly buzzed off of one glass and was so tired I couldn’t sleep. How is that possible?!
Despite my exhaustion, I naively decided to go for my long run Monday morning. I hadn’t been able to run for four days because of my work week and running is my sanity. It calms me, let’s me think, and rejuvenates my soul (cheesy, I know. But true). Thankfully, I had made earlier commitments to meet Katie for my long run that morning, so that promise was enough to get my exhausted ass out of bed. I could feel that I was beyond tired, but I just wanted to get out there.
We started off with eight miles against the wind and chatting away. I could immediately feel my body saying, “WTF, Page. Give it a rest.” But I pushed on. At the half-way point, we randomly ran into my other friend Corinne and decided to join in on her run (which was a great change of scenery). After running with Corinne, we also met up with the always witty Tiffany and Angel, both friends I met through my local running club, Forward Motion. At this point, I could feel the lead in my legs making themselves at home.
As a runner, it’s so easy to ignore those signs and push through them, because most of the time, we should. Other times, we get confused with what is legitimately our bodies telling ourselves to calm the F down and just rest. Regardless, I wanted to run so I insisted despite how much lethargy I pretended to avoid.
At about 14 miles in to our 16 mile jaunt, the sun was beaming, I was one Gu in and I felt my stomach and lungs filling with something. It wasn’t food, mucus, bile, or anything that one would normally associate with over exertion. This feeling soon became overwhelming and I felt like I was going to puke – but what? Not food. No, no, it didn’t feel like that. It soon rose into my throat as if I was drowning in my own body. Finding the words to accurately describe this experience is quite difficult, but whatever it was, it consumed me. I thought I could push through, but I had to stop. With just a mile and a half to the finish, I bent over and I could feel my eyes welling up.
I could hear Katie and Corinne in the background in the background saying, “Oh no, oh no.” Tiffany and Angel stopped. I bent over with my hands on my knees waiting for puke, water, anything to come out. Get out! Get out! I insisted that Angel, Tiffany and Corinne go ahead as Katie stayed back with me. Too embarrassed to do it in front of anyone else, the only thing that came out was…tears.
Like that, I just cried because I was 110 percent purely exhausted. All I wanted was to run, but my body was completely drained. Physically. Mentally. Everything.
Katie, being the ultimate pep-talker, listed to me rant and rave about the things that I dream of for my life and how I just don’t want to be this tired anymore. I cried and we walked about a half mile more and soon picked back up a slow jog with the group and finished our run in the rising heat of Danville.
I’d like to say that I know what happened out there and have an ideal solution for it. But I can’t because I don’t. All I can say is that balance is a difficult struggle that I am still trying to figure out. Big dreams require work, but how do you balance that with your passions? At that moment, I was beyond tired and at a new state of a breakdown. Is this what pure exhaustion feels like? Was it something else? What do I do? How do people manage this, especially with kids?! For now, crying helps me get it out and usually after I do, I feel better. Then again, running is also what usually helps me deal.
What I do know is this: I thrive off of hard work and the results that come with it. That will never change. But I want to do big things beyond running and working, and I’ll need to push through. I’m not sure how yet, but I’ll learn to deal and find the balance because as we all know, “It’s not what happens to you, but how you handle it.” Plus, it’s just one bad run. One bad run in a world of much, much larger issues is nothing. Come on, Page. Get with it. I’ll rest, refocus and move on.
I’ll consider this a lesson in slowing down when necessary, cherishing rest and being thankful that I have an amazing job, I’m healthy, I have two feet that can carry me for miles, and some of the best friends and family a gal could ask for. All in all, life is good and I’m a very, very lucky girl.