Last Will and Testament

If I've managed to do this correctly...this little post should be surfacing sometime during the day on November 22nd.

Race day. (or !!!RACE DAY!!! as Leah would say with sheer excitement).

I've done my training. Said my prayers. Figured out my plan. And now the only thing left to do is execute. And if all goes according to plan, right about now I should be off gallivanting around the beautiful Arizona desert...swimming, biking and running.

If you're interested in keeping tabs on me....you can do so over at Ironman.com (or Ironmanlive.com). Just go to the athlete tracker and plug in my info...

I'm athlete #2240...just in case I haven't mentioned that before. And of course, don't be alarmed when slow split times show up...that's just how I roll. You should know this by now. And if you're up late and want to see me cross the finish line, there should be a link to a video feed somewhere over at Ironman.com.

Mike and Lauren will also be keeping folks updated on my progress during the day. If you have my cell (or Mike's...or Lauren's for that matter)...call or text them. They'll also be updating my twitter feed during the day...which conveniently will also update in my facebook status. So countless ways to keep yourself in-the-know.

But that's not the purpose of this post...

I'm honestly worried about getting caught up in all the Iron-hullabloo, that I'll forget to say these things. And equally worried that if race day doesn't go as planned, that I'll just hide in a cave all winter and never address these critical words of thanks. So bear with me...it's important for me to get 'em out.

In order to even attempt to do something great, you have to surround yourself with truly great people. If you're even reading this, you're one of those great people. I have been so ridiculously fortunate this training season. When I doubted myself...each and every one of you believed that I could somehow find my way to the finish line. And I am eternally thankful for your unwavering support, love and for putting up with me over the past year. I know I haven't always been the most pleasant little Jayhawk...especially when I'd get into my own head (what can I say? it's a talent!)...or when I've been so ravenously hungry and irritable...and let's not even discuss everything that went on during taper. Each and every one of you have put a little iron in me in your own way...

So...here we go...


To my Coach, Maurice, the ultimate Chief of Pain:
I'm sure you already know this, but we have a love-hate relationship. You served up some crazy ass training days this season. You made me laugh. cry. and hate training ten ways to Sunday. Your brutal program helped me realize that I'm so much tougher than I ever thought I was. You reminded me that my mood swings, grizzly-sized hunger, and self-doubt are all critical parts of this process. Thank you for doing all the thinking for me, so I could just zone out, put one foot in front of the other, and get it done. Thank you for making me do 4 rides over 100 miles...insanely long runs...and for listening to me unload about all my fears and concerns. Getting to the start line is half the battle. Today is my reward. Our reward. And I hope I can do you--and Infinity Multisport--proud and make it to the finish line vertical before midnight.

To Amy, my favorite Southern piece of Sass:

For always knowing exactly the right things to say to me. For all the texts and phone calls and hugs and advice. For hooking me up with Roctane and Mox apparel. And simply for being beyond infinitely amazing. Love you, girl!

To Beasley, Schloegel and the entire EnduraCamp Crew:
Crazy stupid bricks, while they suck in the moment, work. Thank you for helping me embrace the curvatures of the earth. And keeping me company while getting lost in St. Louis on a bike. And for pushing me way outside of my comfort zone to become a better athlete than I ever gave myself credit for. And for those bloody hill repeats. And for helping me grasp that it's more than okay to be slow...especially when you're as steady as I am.

To Molly, my virtual training partner in crime:
If only you knew how much you push me, girl. Finally meeting you is one of the things I was most looking forward to in Arizona--thank you so much for carting me around the bike course and really just calming my nerves. We've had such a parallel journey for nearly a year and you've played a huge part in making this such a positive experience. And of course, for pulling your friends along to cheer for me as well. I know you're out there on the course with me rocking it! And I hope we cross paths multiple times for some well deserved high fives...and maybe a cadbury creme egg or two. :)

To Tracy:
You were given 2 weeks to help me get through my mental issues with racing. And I think we've got this sorted out. Thank you for helping me get a better grasp on my anxiety and reminding me to just remove myself and "breathe." I'll keep you posted on the process...

To all of my friends who I haven't spent any real quality time with in months:
Especially Leah. Jason. (+ Lucy). Terri. Tarwater. Shannon. Angie. Laura. Lauren. Jill. For starters, I miss you guys. Really, really, REALLY miss you guys. Thank you for your understanding and unlimited supply of well-needed distractions and sugar cookies. The kind of training required of me meant limited free time in all other aspects of my life. It wasn't just a sacrifice for me...but one for you guys as well. I owe you all a round of beer (or bottle of wine in one particular case) assuming I get make it back home in anything but a body bag. Seriously. I'm buying you all a round. Thank you for not giving me too much crap about never going out and turning in early. I look forward to finally getting to spend more than a random moment here and there with you all. (Oh...and Leah, I hope you're enjoying your last moments of maternity! I can't wait to meet Lucy!!) ....when I get back, you'll get to witness the two beer wondergirl get carried out of a bar!

To everyone who contributed to my book of awesomeness:

I am beyond touched. From the awesome professional triathlete's with their words of wisdom, to friends I haven't talked to in a while...your kind words of love and support had me in tears. It's so wonderful knowing that I have so many people behind me. I hope I can do everyone proud and make it to the finish line...

To all my crazies from Madison...Michelle, Bridget, Brian, Veronica, Donna, Jen and #2092:
I hope I can channel your passion, smiles and spirit on race day. And of course, good hair (right Cote?!). Thank you for inspiring me in more ways than I can count.

To Waddler and Sharkie:
Our paths crossed more times than I can count this season. I am so proud of all the hard work you ladies put in to make it to the finish line at B2B. When things went wrong, you both found ways to rally up and persevere. You're both an inspiration and I really admire your hard work.

To Lore:
For being so supportive and looking out for me so history won't repeat itself. How many of those bloody long rides did we do out in the boondocks together? We saw rain. cold. wind. hills. and everything in between. You're a superstar, a wonderful friend and I can't wait to see you plot your Iron-revenge. Thank you for everything, you're the best.

To Tony:
For long rides. Stupid cold evening lake swims in the dark. Letting me puke and not making me feel bad about it. Constant encouragement. Allowing me razz on you with your outrageous stories. And your unwavering faith in my abilities, no matter how fast or slow they may be. You're the first person to actually make me realize that I've never quit. And you're right. I don't back down. The race may quit on me, but I'll never quit on a race.

To Little Lauren:
I see waaaay too much of myself in you. You are the athlete I was a few years ago...and I can't wait to keep tabs and watch you grow into your full potential. You have so many great things to come, sweetie. An infinite amount of PR's to set and I hope you know that I am one of your biggest cheerleaders. I can't wait to see you on the sidelines as I race around Tempe. Seeing you will remind me that forward is a pace and that's the best pace to have. Thank you for being here, for your little conspiracy, and for everything.

To David, the other co-conspirator:
You are a madman. Thank you for offering up your Zipps and of course, bestowing on me the honor of the Chicago Athlete of the Month. And of course, thank you for introducing me to floating (what a ridiculously awesome zen-finding experience!!).

To Team Jayhawk:
I will, without a doubt, have one of the greatest IronCrews out there on the course. Mike, Brian, Sharon, Zack, Cathy, Lauren, and of course Robyn and Lisa. Thank you all for heading out to the desert to stand in the sun for hours to scream for me as I zip by for all of 10 seconds (and of course, to those of you volunteering as well). You're the best. And seeing you out there will keep me moving forward...knowing that I'm always going to be within a handful of miles of your presence will give me something to look forward to on each loop of the bike and run courses. Thank you for taking time out of your weekend to become an invaluable and critical part of mine.

To Mom, Dad, Terri and Sam:

For filling my hotel room with the most beautiful scent of blooming flowers. It'll help hide the stink that's going to be invading this small space in a few hours time. They're truly beautiful...and a wonderful surprise. You totally made my day.

To the Ladies of the Lounge:
You know who you are. Thank you for reminding me that I can indeed do this and that when you dare to do something great, you inevitably risk falling on your face. And falling is okay...as long as you've got friends to catch you. And in the words of Natalie Sue...don't think. just shut up and do it.

To my co-workers:
I started this journey a few years earlier than I had anticipated. Thank you for humoring me with your smiles, bets on how long I'd be swimming, biking and running any given weekend, and for listening to me moan on days when I was exceptionally sore. And of course, to my teammates who were so awesome and understanding on days where I had to leave a little bit early or come in a little bit late because of a long training session.

To my Parents:
For supporting me in my craziness. I know I'm the least likely of the family to do something like this. Four years ago I remember the hint of hesitation when it came to donating some money for my first marathon with Team In Training since you weren't certain if I'd actually follow through. And now you've pretty much made it to every single one of my big important race. I know you wish you could be there on the sidelines today, but know that I'm carrying you both with me through every inch of that 140.6 miles. I'll let you make it up to me with a nice trip to St. Kitts in 2010 (I'm totally joking! sort of.). But you two are the best and I can't wait to share my war stories with you on the other side.

To Mike:
Without you, none of *this* would have been possible (in fact, dare I say this is all your fault?!). Years ago at Myndi's wedding when we were watching the Kona footage you planted the seed. Last year you took on IM Louisville and made me believe that I, too, could do something of this magnitude.

You got me excited. Motivated me. Dished out the tough love. Picked me up when I couldn't move. Screamed at me when you knew I needed to get moving. Put up with my meltdowns. anxiety attacks. never-ending appetite. constantly empty fridge. disastrous house. endless loads of smelly, sweaty laundry. And you were essentially the glue that held me together whenever I'd fall apart. There is no amount of thanks and gratitude I can express for helping me get through this year (and not divorcing me in the process). I love you...


And finally...to myself:
On so many levels, I expected race day to come and change me. So often we hear that you start the race as one person...and then you finish as a completely different individual. But the truth is...I've already changed. I am a different person...for the better. And I don't need 140.6 miles to tell me otherwise (though I'm sure there will be many other changes during the course of those 17 hours). Don't get me wrong...yes...I want that Ironman title. Yes, I want to hear Mike Reilly call my name as I cross the finish line. I want to feel that medal around my neck and the lights blaring down on me in the dark desert night with the bass of the finish line music pulsing through my veins. I want all that and more.

But what I really wanted out of this year was to get a better understanding of who I am. What makes me tick. Just how far I'll push myself. And find out what I'll pack to chase a dream and what I'll leave behind.

I've had one hell of a season. Three new personal bests this year, including a 5k time I never imagined would be possible. And I'm only beginning to scratch the surface of what I'm truly capable of. I know I'm not fast...and likely never will be the front of the pack. But I have so much more to give to this sport. So much more potential for myself. I've finally been able to stare my inner demons in the face. Give 'em the finger. And overcome them. This whole journey really hasn't been about the race at all. It's about the process. Becoming the change I've wanted to see in myself. I've pushed myself to the brink of exhaustion. And when I think there's nothing left to give...I find a way to get up and push myself some more.

This race is truly the first race of a grand caliber I've gone out and done for myself. by myself. with nobody but myself in mind. No fundraising for a charity. No handfuls of group workouts and Saturday morning team runs. And while part of me feels a little guilty...I actually feel overwhelming pride and accomplishment in this. Ironman training is lonely. And I did it on my own two feet. I can think of ONE run I did with a friend. I did maybe 4 open water swims with Tony. And about 5 rides with Lore. Everything else was me. myself. and i. From a physical standpoint, I have never been more prepared for any other race. And I did it all myself (with the help of Chief of Pain, of course). From a mental standpoint...well...let's just see how that pans out for me...

Win, lose or draw today...I have learned an infinite amount of knowledge about myself...and no finish line experience or DNF can take that away from me. I've embraced a sport that I absolutely love. And as a result, I've started to become who I really am...who I'm supposed to be according to my standards and no one else's. Not society's. Not my parents. Not Mike's. I am me. Barb. The slow. Fabulous. Back of the Packer. And I can't think of any better person to be.

Although being Barb the Ironman sure has a nice ring to it...doesn't it?

Let's rock this bitch.