I can’t hardly believe that the race in Madison is only two weeks from today.Really, where does the time go?

The last long workout is in the books and taper officially begins on Monday with a DOR (day of rest). I’m not excited about tapering because it’s kind of like being in a pitch black room, in the middle of the night, by yourself. You start to hear things and your imagination starts to play tricks on you; it can be very scary!

I have so many mixed emotions about this year’s race. You’d think it was my first, not fourth, Ironman. It has been an up and down year filled with good, bad, and the indifferent. Sounds like any other year so far, right? I could be referring to any one of us with that statement, so what’s the big deal? The year started with so many big expectations…and now that the time is near the reality of life starts to set in and those big, glorious, overreaching goals need to be harnessed in a bit and painted with the brush strokes of reality.

I know first hand that there comes a time in every endurance event when you hear that voice in your head. You know the one, the one that tells you its okay to give up now. In an Ironman you can expect to have conversations with this voice a half-dozen times or more. It’s a wise voice, a voice full of conviction, logic, and persistence. It will tell you it’s okay to walk now or even to just give up completely. You have to be ready for it, prepared with answers as to why you will not give in to its pleading. It’s this voice that scares me the most because it knows me, it knows my weaknesses.

As most of you know, my daughter Alexandra was in a bad accident this summer. Just a little over four weeks ago, July 14th to be exact. We were on vacation in Michigan, on Mackinac Island, horseback riding. It had been a glorious day to that point. We had traversed the perimeter of the small island (9+ miles) on bicycle, had explored the island,s history with a horse drawn taxi tour, and had
sampled some of the picturesque town’s food. The horseback ride was the day’s last event and we were just finishing up when her horse (Lilly) bolted, a full- out sprint, down the road. My entire being screamed NO! STOP! but there was nothing I could do but watch, helplessly, in disbelief. Alexandra got Lilly stopped briefly, now 50 yards or so in front of me before she bolted again. This time she ran up onto a sidewalk and into a crowd of people. My mind was racing as I tried to get to her. The police report stated that her horse reared, throwing her to the pavement. Her skull fractured at its base on the left back side of her head. When I got to her she was face down, unresponsive, with blood seeping from her left ear. The next 10 days were a blur, from the logistical nightmare of just trying to get off the island and to a real hospital, to the endless nights in the ICU praying. Her list of injuries included the 6cm (nearly 2-1/2 inch) long skull fracture, a laceration on the back of her head, two bilateral bleeds in the frontal lobe of her brain, a subdural bleed in the left temporal lobe, a punctured left ear drum, a hemorrhage behind her left eye, brain swelling, and numerous abrasions on her shoulders, arms, and legs. We have lost one child in this life already and I could not bare losing another. Our prayers (and yours) were heard and after two plus weeks in the hospital, 10 days in Petoskey, Michigan, and another week in Minneapolis, Minnesota, Alexandra is on the road to recovery. We are very grateful her injuries were not worse and we are very hopeful for a full recovery. She’s been going to outpatient Occupational, Physical, and Speech therapy about three times a week and her progress has been excellent. She still has some work ahead of her and she will miss competing during the Girls High School swim season and will have an altered school schedule but the poem below, that she wrote recently, will give you some idea where she is today.