Traithlon: Three athletes—one goal—all Ironmen


I’ve seldom met a hair-brained idea I didn’t like, and apparently I’m not alone! Enter No Limit Fitness owner Matt Dingbam and his client-friend (and my cousin-in-law), John Melvin.

Both DeWitt residents and I were among the 2,606 athletes who competed in last month’s July 20th half Ironman in Racine, Wisconsin.

I remember speaking briefly with Matt at last year’s Paul Skeffington Memorial Race during which we both mentioned the I-word. Forget the fact neither of us had an ounce of experience with triathlon, the idea of taking on an Ironman was brewing in each of us.

flat jenny Racine 70.3 2014While I’d run countless races including several marathons, that Skeff Race was quite special for Matt and John. It was their first. EVER.

Their experience in DeWitt, from the cheering crowds to seeing family members on the course, prompted the two of them to sign up for more races throughout 2013, culminating with the IMT Des Moines Marathon in October. From 5 miles to 26.2 miles in four months! Even I’d call that cray-cray!

This seemingly over-zealous approach to running offers us a peak into the psyches of Matt and John. Meeting each obstacle with fortitude, each goal with tenacity, it’s no surprise neither man shied away from the challenge of the 70.3, which represents the cumulative mileage of a half Ironman—1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run.

While I’ve logged thousands of miles on foot and bike, and probably as many laps as far back as college, I had a smidgeon of what would be required of me. Matt and John? Gut instinct, alone.

“I had always thought about triathlons,” Matt told me, “but I had never even road biked or really swam for distance. I decided to ‘Go Big or Go Home’ and signed up for Ironman Racine, knowing I would figure it out along the way.

“Of course, John Melvin followed my lead as he did not want me to do this alone!”

John and Matt knew each other, but it wasn’t until John began attending boot camp at No Limit Fitness when Matt unlocked John’s potential and the two developed a friendship that would transform their goals into a partnership.

Matt came at the 70.3 with calculated training and focus while John brought the grit, fine-tuned by his years in the military.

“I’ve always reminded myself to ‘Embrace the Suck,’” noted John, using a mantra made common by Iraq war veteran and writer Col. Austin Bay.

“The truth is that my preparation plan was changed constantly due to weather, work, family, money and any other reason.”

In fact, John’s work took him out of country to India for three weeks during the final month before Racine. As if the surroundings weren’t taxing enough, the 16+ hour work days prevented any training and it was then that John decided the Ironman was lost.

Perfectly understandable, life getting in the way and all, skipping the Ironman gnawed at John. Yes, the training wasn’t there, “but why not try?” he wondered.

At the last minute, John opted to ‘Embrace the Suck’ at a level few of us will experience. “Using this logic,” he explained. “I’ve been able to adapt to obstacles on and off the course that are always working to keep you down.”

He, Matt and I met up at the Ironman Expo the day before the race and then John and I drove the bike course.

It was during that drive when he verbalized the essence of strength: facing the fear regardless of outcome. Fear of the unknown robs so many from achieving greater heights. Sure John wanted to finish, but it was facing the possibility of trying and not finishing that was his foe.

But is it such a novel foe? Matt, John and I all brought our own fears to the 70.3 table. Turns out all three of us were less than enthused about the swim in Lake Michigan.

“When I arrived at Lake Michigan I got a sick feeling,” Matt admitted. “I could not quit looking at the lake and wondering how in the world I was going to be able to swim 1.2 miles in this huge body of water.”

Though water temperature was a chilly 61 degrees that Sunday morning, we were lucky to have calm conditions and a glass-like lake. Starting in waves divided by gender and age, we each navigated the breath-stealing cold and fell into steady swims that, once finished, buoyed our spirits for the remaining bike and run.

While Matt and I were confident of our abilities on the bike, John faced the real “meat” of this challenge during the ride. Prior to the Ironman, the longest John had ridden was 25 miles. Aside from the common aches and pains every cyclists copes with, John rode a borrowed bike in which the seat sloped downward. This would be his proverbial shining hour, shining four hours, to be exact.

He knew he could probably reach the 30-mile point, and the 13.1-mile run? If all else failed, he could walk it, but those final 26 miles on the bike? It was a giant, looming cloud of wonder that he answered with a ROAR by cruising through those 26 miles and on through the run.

All three of us reached our goals.

For Matt, this was his first triathlon and he finished in 6 hours and 28 minutes. “The sense of accomplishment and ‘runner’s high’ lasted for two days straight!” In the Finisher’s Tent, Matt met Lionel Sander, the overall winner who snagged victory with a time of 3:45.

“Even though I was totally satisfied,” Matt said, “I knew I would need to do a full IM (Ironman) to reach my full goal! At the same time I was thinking this, I got a text from John that said the exact same thing!”

For John, this was his second triathlon and despite the training woes and borrowed bike, he conquered the fear and crossed the finish line at 8:04!

“There was a time when the Crossroads (Triathlon) was the most difficult obstacle in front of me, then a marathon, then a 70.3,” John said. “My point to anyone thinking about doing something outside the box is this: keep moving forward and focusing on your goals. Everything else always seems to fall into place.”

Myself? I came in at 7:03, 27 minutes ahead of my goal! And yes, as with Matt and John, I too have set my sights on the bigger, badder full Ironman: 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, 26.2 mile run.

Matt put it best, “To be continued . . . when (we) sign up for the 140.6.”


Originally published 2 August 2014 in The Observer.

Dining on ‘tri’ humble pie—injury


Humble pie. It tastes a lot more yucky than crow, but over the last week I’ve been eating quite a bit of it.

That stuff I wrote last week about taking it easy now that summer’s here? Well . . . I didn’t want to mention it, but I did the Quad Cities Triathlon last weekend. And I broke.

As with last August’s Crossroad Triathlon, I panicked during the open water swim and ended up swimming the majority of it on my back. Miraculously, though it was 100 yards longer than the Crossroads, I finished a minute and a half faster last weekend!

Unfortunately that gain was quickly thwarted by my apparent lollygag from swim to bike. At last August’s Crossroads my first transition time was a mere 1:44, comparatively last weekend it was 4:31. And things just went downhill from there.

20140614_174023_AndroidI’ve been pretty distracted lately, likely due to tonight’s annual Paul Skeffington Memorial Race. I never thought I’d be a part of something so big! For me, the Skeff Race runs the gamut from star harriers to leisurely walkers and the many paces in between. I love that it’s been around for 27 years and I hope you all go out and enjoy it tonight, either by participating or cheering.

But back to my meltdown . . . with my primary focus being on pre-race details, any efforts to formulate a plan for the triathlon were useless. I’m terrible at multi-tasking so it’s no wonder my mind was everywhere but “in the moment.”

The result of being so scattered was that I attacked the 15-mile bike portion of the event with a vigor I can only imagine rabid dogs having, I was actually, literally, foaming at the mouth. I shifted my bike gears into the big ring and gave it all I had.

I’ve been riding a lot more this year than last year, but I’ve spent minimal time riding in the large gear ring. Bigger ring means harder pedaling BUT faster speed.

While the QC Tri bike course is pretty flat, there are a few significant hills. Couple that with increasing winds and it made for a hard 51 minute ride compared to last year’s Crossroad which I rode 90 seconds faster AND felt much better doing. I remember feeling a joy during last year’s ride. But last Saturday? I was merely trying to muscle my way through it and get it done.

I’m still trying to figure out exactly when it happened, but sometime after I rode up to the transition area and got off my bike, I bent over several times while changes shoes, snagging a drink of water, etc. and something “went.”

I was too scattered, breathless, shaky, and let’s not forget, foamy, for real pain to register. I blew it off as mere tightness and headed out for the 5k run. But once I began running, I noticed my left leg not working very well. Thinking I was just breathless, I walked a bit.

After about a half mile of running and walking, I realized I was dragging my left leg. That’s when it hit me, “Uh oh. I’m hurt.” I finished, but once I knew I was injured, I got mindful in a hurry! I was conscious of each footfall, aware of how my muscles were feeling with each stride. But it was “too little, too late.”

So now what? After I finished, I message my soft tissue therapist who since last fall has dramatically helped correct issues with my running. Monday he determined I’d compressed a nerve near the sit bones of my pelvis during the bike that caused the glute muscle on my left side to stop working, making the groin and hamstring compensate and ultimately fail.

So does that mean I pulled my groin? Strained my hamstring? Kind of. As he explained, the whole area simply got way too beat up and now needs a rest. I have twice-daily exercises that he assigned me and I’m to stay off the bike for at least week. And most importantly, work on strengthening my mind/body connection.

Wednesday was my first workout since the triathlon so I did a slow mile in the pool, but without thinking, when I climbed out of the pool and swung my left leg up onto the deck, I re-activated the “ouch.” I’m here to report, lack of mindfulness brings nothing but trouble!

Which brings me back to the humble pie and how awful it tastes. I screwed up. I should have taken it easy. Instead, I was a crazy person.

Please do not think I’m Wonder Woman or think that I think I’m Wonder Woman. I share my highlights and lowlights as evidence that ANYONE can do this, that we don’t have to be naturally-gifted athletes to reach awesome heights. Regular people, you and me, do this stuff! But we have to use our heads . . . and I haven’t been.

Should I have skipped last weekend’s triathlon? Heck no! But as I reflect on it, I remember at no time during the event did I really, truly enjoy myself . . . and if it’s not fun, why bother?

So to those who are heading out for tonight’s Skeff Race, HAVE FUN! Personally I think it’s a lot harder to injure ourselves with a smile on our faces and a giggle in our bellies. But if you choose to go all out, stay focused. Really think about what your body is doing and how it feels in each moment.

Don’t fret the finish! As you feel that mind/body connection, celebrate the awesome strength that lies inside you! And when you see that chute, revel in the joy of our cheers pulling you in and over that finish line!


Originally published 21 June 2014 in The Observer.

Break in heat lends to running reflections


For reasons purely selfish, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this week’s weather. From the cooler temperatures and clouds to the light rains and breezes, this week has been a welcome respite.

I am someone who will never complain about winter and even though our past cold season was rather long, I tolerate cold much better than heat, which is why my race calendar has dropped off significantly.

Following the Cornbelt 24-Hour-Run the first weekend in May, I skipped a few events and went back at it Memorial Day weekend with the MedCity Marathon in Rochester, Minn., where my most recent fear was confirmed: being jipped out of a spring and tossed right into the lion’s den of SUMMER. Grrr.

It was a quick trip, just 21 hours from arrival to departure, and unfortunately the cloudless morning allowed temps to climb into the 80s. Both half and full marathon runners were bussed from Rochester to the race start in Byron. With the first half spent on county roads, the course rolled past gorgeous farm land that even included a few buffalo corralled in a small pasture.

2014-05-31 23.53.57I rarely spend much time studying a race course and while I knew Rochester had an impressive trail system, I didn’t think the course would join it. But it did, and I found myself struggling to focus on the “here and now” of 2014 vs. the summer of 2011 when my dad, Tom Reed, was at the Mayo Clinic for nearly a month following surgery for lung cancer.

In 2011, the thoracic nurses at St. Mary’s Hospital printed off maps of the trail system which offered me regular sojourns into nature and the chance to worry and fret and cry safely away from Dad’s bedside.

To say the least, it felt a little sad to be back on those trails.

While the lovely volunteers were wonderfully peppy, the heat continued to climb which did little for my spirits. What really helped were the three different times people offered coolers full of ice cubes which I’d drop into the back of my shirt, stuff under my ball cap and hold in my hands.

I was frustrated. Not only did I not have the proper equipment with me i.e. a sweat rag, but I had yet to mentally acclimate to the challenge of heat. Heck, I was still running in jackets and gloves just a few weeks before!

Then there was the little issue of course markings as a few areas during the last several miles lacked both volunteers, traffic cones and paint. I followed those in front of me and was lucky they knew the way. Later on at the finish line, I saw fellow Cornbelt member, Chet Doyle of Rock Island approach the finish from the opposite direction. After he came back around through the chute, he said a few ill-marked turns cost him dearly in more time and mileage. Ugh!

I’d hoped to finish in under 5 hours, nothing too crazy, but still respectable. However, given the memories that were haunting me, the heat that was grilling me and the tentative progress along a few confusing areas, 5 hours began to slip away.

Despite this there was still fun to be had. With a couple of different places on the course in which you’d meet runners headed back at you, I got to enjoy one of my absolute favorite things: Hi-5’ing!

Running buddy Bennie Rheeder of Cedar Rapids taught me to never pass up an opportunity to Hi-5 a kid, but I’d argue it’s even more fun when you’re just a few miles from the finish and you’re tired and hurting and the tank is on empty, to have fellow runners scream and cheer at each other while swapping palm sweat!

Eventually I made it to the finish line in 5:13:08. Given all the circumstances, I was just happy to be done and sitting in my air conditioned car!

I really haven’t pushed myself since then. My son Maclane and I walked the Color the Quads 5k May 31st which, having run the event last year, is a much dirtier experience as a walker.

If you’ve never heard of a “color run” it’s when several color stations are positioned along the course where hoards of volunteers spray you with blue- or red- or green- or yellow-dyed corn starch. It gives you rainbow nose candy and blue ear wax, perfect for an 11-year-old boy whose nickname is “Fluffy.”

Even though we walked it, the heat was high and left me exhausted, which brings me back to the blessed weather break that I thoroughly enjoyed this week!

With breeze enough to keep the bugs away and cooler temps to keep my sweat at bay, I armed myself with a power drill and, with the help of Moira and Maclane, modified their swingset!

Gone is the rocking horse attachment on which neither child could fit. By moving Moira’s single, painfully narrow swing to one end and drilling fresh holes through the top at the other, the three of us found ourselves gathered ‘round the swingset, enjoying the gentle sway of our new porch swing!

And isn’t that what summer break is about? Not so much grueling races, but having fun and knocking out little projects . . . and then taking a little break in the swing.


Originally published 14 June 2014 in The Observer.

Skeffington Race keeps getting better!


We’re less than a month away from the 27th annual running of the Paul Skeffington Memorial Race! Are you registered?

I remember when it first started, way back in 1988. It was the summer before my senior year of high school, when acid-washed jeans, Guns ‘N Roses and big hair were the rage.

Back then, I played volleyball and golf, I ran neither cross country nor track. My, how times have changed! Who knew that in 27 years, the Skeff Race, originally thought to have just a few years of life, would last over a quarter of a century with participation reaching well over 700 in recent years!

I didn’t know Paul Skeffington, but I loved the grocery store, especially after my daughter was born. Just a couple of blocks from where my husband and I first lived, “Skeffs” was just a quick walk away. And after Moira became mobile? To trail behind her as she pushed one of those miniature little shopping carts down the aisle was hilarious!

As for the race that honors Paul Skeffington, it’s only recently that I started getting involved, but once I joined the fun, I fell in love.

First, there are the “options.” Anyone can enjoy the Skeff Race: there’s the fun run for the kids, the two-mile run/walk and for the braver souls, the humbling five-mile race.

Second, last year’s new time: what started as a Saturday morning event is now in the early-evening! I’m sure there are some who enjoy heat and humidity. I’m not one of them. Just remembering the heavy, thick air on some of the Saturday morning Skeff Races makes my chest tighten. By 6 p.m., the heat is usually letting up, and with the day’s work behind you, it’s time to have some fun!

Finally, the route: I’ve never minded the many changes it’s taken, but I love that the five-mile race course includes the Paul Skeffington Memorial Trail. And new for this year, the two-mile route will venture along DeWitt’s 3rd Avenue, giving residents a reason to come out and watch the parade of runners and walkers.

During last year’s race, as the five-mile course wound around the north section of the trail, I saw one of my close friends, Kristi Klinkhammer of Clinton, struggling. When I stopped to check on her, sudden foot pain was preventing her from running. Despite stretching and kneeding the sole, the foot just wouldn’t cooperate, but quit? Pfft!

Sometimes shuffling, most times walking, we hung together. No matter how bad it hurt, Kristi was going to finish. Sure, it can be a drag coming in last, but it’s far worse to give up. I’d say Kristi, unaware of who Paul Skeffington was, honored him with her grit.

Praised by previous editors of The Observer, first after his passing in a 1988 column by Bob Parrott, then again in 2001 by Mary Rueter, Skeffington was lauded as a community hero.

The late Parrott wrote about Skeffington as a kindred spirit with an undying love for DeWitt and its residents, eager to see his community survive the farm crisis of the 1980s.

Rueter, witnessing DeWitt’s survival and flourish since those dark times, told of the scholarships and park improvements the race that bears his name has funded. Both writers painted a picture of a man who loved his town and would do anything to keep it going.

With the Paul Skeffington Memorial Race already in its next quarter century, it remains an excellent way of experiencing DeWitt’s fun side while also honoring the legacy of one of the town’s great heros.

Come June 21st, I hope to see you all there!


Originally published 24 May 2014 in The Observer.

Local 24-Hour-Run: crazy & worth repeating


For the past 33 years, the Cornbelt Running Club has hosted its 24-Hour-Run at the North Scott Track in Eldridge. That’s right, 24 hours of running or walking, around and around and around a high school track. Through rain, wind, sunrise, sunset, bugs, rabbits and birds; through night, through day; through burgeoning blisters, bad backs and sore hips; through chilly temps and blazing heat.

When I initially joined Cornbelt in late 2009, such an event didn’t even register with me. I’m sure I read about it in the newsletter, but because I was so far from considering anything beyond a marathon, I failed to see the event as anything other than LOONEY TUNES! The notion of doing something for 24 hours, paying to do so . . . and not even for a charity? I was completely unable to grasp such nonsense.

20140505_104216_AndroidWithin a couple years of joining the running club, I began to volunteer at a few events and eventually I found myself at a table near the North Scott Track counting laps in the wee hours of a Sunday morning.

As runners and walkers completed the last three hours of the challenge, I began to see the 24-Hour-Run as something I needed to try. Back in January, when I made a list of specific goals for 2014, the 24-Hour-Run was part of my four-goal list.

Because I’ve done a few long events since March, I didn’t consider any specific type of training, rather I focused on staying healthy, listening to my body and in the week prior to the May 3-4 event, squeeze in a daily nap and carb load responsibly.

At 7 a.m. when I toed the line with 24 other individuals from as nearby as DeWitt and as far away as California, I had one main hope: to last all 24 hours.

In talking with others who had done it, I was interested in how pain would affect my psyche. I’m not a masochist and do NOT enjoy pain and/or suffering, especially the self-inflicted kind. But I’m curious about my limits. Back in 2009 when I set my sights on the 2010 Chicago Marathon, I assumed I’d find my limits there. Sure it was tough, running 26.2 miles is hard, but it wasn’t the mythical, life-changing “Everest” I’ve heard others claim it to be.

What if I were faster? Nope. I still don’t think it’d be any of that reverential stuff, it’d just be less fun.

And I’ve pretty much come to grips with the fact that if I’m not having fun, I’m not going to bother. But I must admit, I didn’t expect to have fun at the 24-Hour-Run. I expected myself to morph into some senseless, muttering, sleep-deprived ball of pain.

20140505_104829_AndroidI was most concerned with my feet, given they’d suffer the most. I knew I needed to have a variety of shoes and unfortunately I chose the wrong one to start in: a thin pair of Brooks Ravennas that, while fine for a 10k, have no business staying on my feet beyond that. Though no blisters appeared, the Brooks laces cut into the top of one of my feet, setting it on fire.

Not sure how long each of my three pairs of shoes would last, I kept the Brooks on for seven hours, 112 laps totaling 28 miles before changing into a newish pair of Asics Kayanos.

While the Asics have always been a good long-run shoe for me, and my feet did feel better getting out of the Brooks, the damage was done. I kept them on for another nine hours, another 108 laps totaling 27 miles before breaking out my ace-in-the-hole, a pair of Hoka Conquests.

These moon-like shoes have a sole that’s crazy thick. Its massive cushion helped me run much of that final eight hours. Except for a brief time in which I pulled off my socks and popped blisters on my toes (and then slathered a layer of A&D ointment on my soles) running the straights and walking the turns made for a comfortable way to pass the hours.

But if it was all physical, where’s the fun in that? Eventually everyone walks and it’s when falling in with another participant that the glory of the event comes to the surface. Visiting with DeWitt resident and pastor Curt Girod who was doing his fourth 24-Hour-Run, he told me about his prior experience and what got him to achieving the 100 kilometer/61 mile mark. He finished with nearly 77.5 miles logged.

Then there’s the character who convinced Curt to do the event in the first place, DeWitt resident Scott Hoag. I remember counting Scott’s laps last year, but getting to talk with him and soak up his experience of having completed well over 20 of 24-Hour-Run events, was much more fun. Curt, Scott and the vast majority of everyone else exhibited for me, how much stronger the mind is than the body.

The event defies logic, reason, and has most people thinking we all needed to be locked in a padded room.

Scott’s hips and back were aching and more than once I watched friends work on his lower back as he laid face-down on the in-field. And yet he never quit, logging a final tally a couple tenths shy of 78 miles.

I think Curt and Scott would agree that we powered on, not because our mental fortitude was so immense or our bodies, temples of greatness. We kept circling the track because of the people who joined us . . . the ones who love us, in spite of our quirky hobbies.

Curt’s wife kept him company and walked with him, Scott’s kids were there. Marty brought the kids down, holding signs that read, “Mom is 24 hours of awesome!” My parents came out and walked me over the 50 mile threshold, Charlotte resident and racing buddy Nancy McClimon came twice, first to walk with me, the second time to drive my car home afterwards.

Seeing so many friends and families come out to share in the experience brought real meaning to the term “team effort.” Even while I sat popping blisters, I was loving it.

I think it was Curt who said, “You’re hooked, aren’t you.”

Yep! My 81.65 miles were 323 laps of fun! A fun that was parsed into bits of endurance, slices of sharing, a chunk of eating, a heap of pain, a dollop of suffering, and a huge helping of joy!

Whether you’re a walker or runner, want to do 10 miles or 100, I think the 24-Hour-Run is our best-kept, most neurotically-loved secret . . . and I would love to see more of us out there in 2015!


Originally published 17 May 2014 in The Observer.