It is well known fact amongst my friends that I am, what we like to call, “navigationally challenged.” You can tell me how to get somewhere, and I will inevitably go the wrong way. You could paint a straight line on the ground, tell me to follow it, and I would likely still get lost. We all have our strengths, following directions is not one of mine.
It’s not an inability to read a map so much as it is execution error. I am easily distracted. And the google map thing on my phone, really confuses the heck out of me, especially when the arrow is moving in the opposite direction of my travel. How does that work!?
Each time I set out to a new destination, I think, “Ok, this is it, this is it! This time I will get there with no mistakes.” But alas, I always wind up wondering, “Wait…is this where I’m supposed to be…?” I typically manage to get where I’m headed eventually, but not without earning an interesting story or two in the process.
Last weekend, I found myself wandering around the Arizona dessert, which was mostly intentional. I was out in Phoenix with friends to volunteer for the Arizona Ironman in Tempe. Our mission was to acquire a special wristband that would allow us to be at the front of the line to register for the same event next November. I was convinced the whole idea was crazy. An Ironman? That seems like an awful lot, doesn’t it? 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and then a full marathon. I mean, I love running 26.2, but after all that other stuff? I’m not so sure about that.
We flew from Lambert airport on Friday evening. Farrell was seated right next to me, and Adrianne was just across the aisle. The boys, Mark and Ron, were somewhere at the back of the plane. Farrell and Frenchy (Mark) have both completed a full Ironman, the rest of us can only boast the half distance. I am the least experienced of the group, having completed 70.3 only once, with 3 total Tri’s to my repertoire. Nicole was supposed to claim that title but sadly things didn’t work out for her to join us. Chances are, I wouldn’t have agreed to this ridiculousness, if it hadn’t been for Nicole’s persuasion. But it wasn’t until about a week before we were set to leave that I found out she was no longer joining us. Total bummer. We had also lost Brian and Martin along the way. And then there were 5…
We arrived in Phoenix, Friday night. The girls all stayed at Farrell’s uncle’s house and the boys were at a condo just a few minutes away. After dropping off our stuff, we all went out for a quick beer to celebrate our arrival. We didn’t stay out too late since we had an early volunteer meeting the next morning at the Tempe Center for the Arts.
We got to our meeting right on time Saturday morning. We met our volunteer coordinator, Emily, and wouldn’t you know it, Emily was a collegiate rower like myself. She actually knew my coaches Bebe and Joanna from Michigan State. Small world. After receiving our instructions, we wandered through the expo. Several athletes were in the water for the practice swim and the transition area was filling up with bikes. We teased Ron that he should earn commission selling goggles since all three of us girls bought a pair at the Aqua Sphere booth, he did score a free pair for his efforts. Mark bought a new Rudy Project helmet in a fantastic shade of neon green. We ate free samples of Ciobani yogurt, and smoothies made by Vitamix. We all made various purchases at the Ironman Official Merchandise tent, where my friend Jayne came over to say hi. I’ve known Jayne my entire life since our dads were colleagues in the early days. Jayne’s boyfriend Jimi is an experienced triathlete, who was competing in his 4th full Ironman this year. He was hoping to finish in 9.5 hours. He is incredibly impressive, to say the very least.
As we made our way over by the main drag in Tempe to find some lunch as supplement to our free snacks, I looked to the right and saw my friend Judy walking down the street. Judy and I met on the shuttle from the Dallas Whiterock Marathon expo a couple years ago. She had just completed the Lake Placid Ironman and was convinced I would be picking up triathlons too. I laughed at her. No way! We ended up finding each other again at the Pre-race Pasta dinner that night and were fast friends. Although this was the first time we’ve seen each other since we met in Dallas, we’ve stayed in touch and have plans to swap travels for races in St. Louis and her native Boston.
While I talked to Judy, Ron waited for me, and the others went ahead to find somewhere to eat. They landed at Loco Patron. Sheila and Kelly Farrell joined us (same last name at Linds, but not related). They also came out from Stl and were singed up to volunteer to get Kelly registered for next year. I know both of them as customers at the store, and Sheila is a badass in my age group in the West County running community. We ordered margaritas and our server replaced our basket of tortilla chips several times before we finally ate.
Loco Patron was at the base of Hayden Butte, so after lunch we decided to go for a walk to burn off some calories. We hiked to the top, enjoyed the view and walked back down for some ice cream at Sparky’s. (Shane might kill me for saying this, but I of course thought it was hilarious to find this place since his last name is Sparkman and he has recently earned this nickname from me. I even brought him a Sparky’s bumper sticker.)
We all parted ways for the rest of the afternoon with plans to reconvene for dinner in Scottsdale. Everyone was already rather impressed with my ability to eat, as well as, my planning the next meal while still partaking in one. It’s a Jacobs’ skill. We know how to eat. I really like food. #1 best thing about racing? Carb loading.
After naps and showers, we went for sushi and drinks in Scottsdale. Not surprising that it’s the hip hot spot of Phoenix. But again, we didn’t stay out too late since some of our crew was planning to be at the start of the main event the next morning. I, on the other hand, planned to sleep in and then take advantage of my mountainous surroundings.
I woke up Sunday morning to a text from Frenchy who had met a new friend at the course. Somehow he found my friend, Elaine, my mom’s downstairs neighbor in Michigan, and they had determined their mutual connection in me. Funny side note: Ron ultimately declared that traveling with me is like traveling with Kevin Bacon because I know everyone. 6 degrees of separation from Rambling Runner Girl.
It was Sunday morning, I had nowhere to be until Sunday night for our volunteer shift, and there was a mountain almost directly in the backyard of Farrell’s uncle Joe’s house. I knew where I was headed. Since I hadn’t planned very well, Joe hooked me up with a water belt and some Gu. I had some Bonk Breaker bars that I grabbed a well. I laced up my shoes, strapped on my Garmin and set off to enjoy the day.
Before leaving, Joe showed me an aerial view of the surrounding area on his ipad so I wasn’t going blindly into an unknown region. Basically, I would find the trailhead about a block away, wind my way around to near the peak, cross the ridge to the next peak, head into the valley, go through a tunnel under the freeway and find myself at Dreamy Draw State Park where I could follow the trails up to Piestewa Peak. Oh sure, I got this. No problem.
Joe mentioned it was easy to get lost on some of these trails. Ummm, yeah, he wasn’t kidding. I made it to the top of the first peak without too much trouble, other than my labored breathing. But somehow in crossing the ridge, I ended up on the backside of the mountain and got stuck when I found myself in someone’s backyard. So, I back tracked, went back up to the ridge and got myself back on the right trail. So far, the running was minimal, hiking was the majority and there was even a little rock climbing involved. I made it to the next peak and followed the trail winding down into the valley.
I continued along the trail in the direction that I thought would get me to the tunnel. I saw someone out for a walk, upon learning I was from the Midwest she welcomed me to the area. About a half mile later I thought I saw her dog cross the trail up ahead of me. Oh, wait, that’s not a dog. That’s a coyote. (Cue the tumbleweed) Eventually, I found myself in another neighborhood. I turned around, wove my way back through the valley and ultimately found the tunnel. At this point I had probably added an extra 2 miles or so. I’d been gone an hour and a half, but had only traversed about 5 miles. It was slow going up through the mountain trails, I’d stopped to take pictures and enjoy the view. I wasn’t completely sure when everyone was planning to meet back at the house or what the schedule was so I called Farrell. They were still in Tempe and wanted to take a nap when they got back so I knew I had some time. I was more than happy to continue with my adventure. And so I did.
I located a water fountain, got myself a refill and wound my way up toward Piestewa Peak. I stopped occasionally to take in the view or send a text to my trail running crew who was out doing a long run on the Chubb trail back home. A few times I had to stop because I would see something that would remind me of my dad and was brought to tears. Sunday was November 17. November 17, 2001 was the last time I saw my dad alive. The last time I hugged him. It’s been a long time. I miss him.
November is a tough month. Ask anyone who is missing a loved one this time of year and they’ll tell you the approach of the holidays is hard. But when significant dates fall at this time of year, it can make it even more challenging.
That run/hike was exactly what I needed the other day. I traversed a total of 14.5 miles in about 4 hours. At times I wasn’t sure I would actually make it to the destination I was seeking. I thought for sure I was going to run out of time and have to turn back early. I kept getting lost, even though I convinced myself I was going the right way. I had to go backwards sometimes, before I could assess where I was and get back on track. I had moments of highs, and moments of painful lows. Sometimes I had a hard time catching my breath. At times, I just had to sit down right where I was, but then I picked myself up and kept on going. I even had surprise encounters and found things I might not have if I’d stayed true to my course.
On Monday morning, I used my wristband that I earned the night before at Run Aid Station #5 cheering on people who were nearing the end of their Ironman journey. I got in line at 5:45am, with about 2,700 other athletes, to register for Ironman Arizona that will take place in Tempe on November 16, 2014. Along with my friends, I was among the first 100 people to sign up. And this is one time I can honestly tell you, I have absolutely no idea where I’m going. Sure I know where I ultimately want to end up, but how in the world am I going to get there? The year ahead is going to be a challenging one. I will mess up. I will have good days and bad days. I will smile with pride at the beauty of what I’ve accomplished and I will cry in frustration and pain. I will encounter pleasant surprises and I will have set backs. I will probably miss a workout now and then. I’m going to have to lean on my friends to help me get through this. And I will definitely get lost a time or two along the way.
There is something to be said for the element of surprise, isn’t there? Something to be said for the journey itself. Sure, we know what we think the destination is, we can even see it right in front of us sometimes. Initially we have to step out in faith that we’ll get there. That doesn’t mean getting there is easy, or that it will go according to plan. Think about everything we’d miss if we knew exactly where we were going all the time and nothing ever went wrong. Isn’t it so much better when we find something unexpected that forces us to stop and enjoy the view? And when we struggle through the hard times, it makes it that much more satisfying when we finally reach the summit.
I am in for a huge reward when I arrive in Tempe next November for race day. But it isn’t necessarily about reaching the end of the road that is the pinnacle. It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey. And all of the unexpected, and perhaps misplaced, steps that I will take along the way.
“All this time I was finding myself and I didn’t know I was lost” -Avicii