Laura Tingle

06:07
:10

I did this….and then I did that

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My last post was the morning we were headed out to Memphis in May, so I will pick up where I left off. We got into Nashville (flights there were a third the price of flights to Memphis) to find that our bikes were stuck in Chicago. Which was odd considering we had a direct flight from Denver. Airlines are funny….and not funny “haha.” So we had lunch at Trader Joes, and then swam at the Tracy Caulkins Natatorium, my kind of day. The whole time I was swimming, I had a feeling of “I have been here before.” The next day I called my dad and he reminded me that I raced there when I was 10. Oh geez, at this rate, I am never going to get to my Memphis in May race report. That is okay, the race can be summed up as, “I swam on Blake Beckers feet, and then rode my bike better than last year, which wasnt hard considering I crashed my bike in the hotel parking lot the day before the race last year, but that probably didnt matter because I was riding my bike like a donkey in 2009 anyway, and then we got out on the run and everyone was doing the skeleton dance because it was a million degrees, and I finished 4th pro woman which wasnt really good or bad. The end.” On to more important things, I did not pee from before the race Sunday morning until 4 pm on Monday. That is how hot it was. That is VERY hot. Despite the hot, the fellas I traveled with all had great races. Blake finished 4th in the pro men, Justin was 6th and had the fastest run split, and Denny was one of the top age group men.
This past week, I mentioned for the 1,235th time to my parents that I would like to be the mayor of Louisville in 2035. My mother thought it would be a good idea if I became more involved in the community, so she signed me up for the inagural Louisville Half Marathon. Her, my dad, and the mother of my god baby, Erin, ran the 5k. It was a pretty fun day on a super hard course. Most of the course was gravel trail, which is good for making a fast recovery, but bad for running a smoking time. I was the first woman to finish, which means I have the course record! It probably doesnt count when it is a first year race…but..I am claiming it, haha. After the race, I was schooled on the mountain bike by my dad, some things never change. I ended the day with going to see Robin Hood (which totally made me want a bow and arrow, like, seriously. Seriously) and eating mexican food with some of my favorite friends. Things are going well.


05:21
:10

Ironically, I won the Littlefoot Triathlon

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I had a discussion during taco tuesday (which is held at the cougar’s house on monday nights, of course) with Tony, Pearl Izumi shoe designer extraordinaire. The discussion went like this:
Tony: Tingle, what size shoe do you wear
Tingle: mmmfoooourtymmmmoneishmmm
Tony: What?!
Tingle: 41
Tony: Good God you have big feet
Tingle: Because I am very tall, I need big feet. Tall people need big foundations or they will topple over.
Tony: How tall are you?
Tingle: almost 5’4″ish…ish

So there you have it. Growing up, my dad always told me to think of them as flippers. Denny has always referred to them as “corn-fed Nebraskan feet.” Luckily, my feet did not disqualify me from the Littlefoot Triathlon last weekend. And they moved fast enough to win! That was good.

The weekend before I raced the Rev3 in Knoxville. I went into the race with the goal of finishing in the money (top 10). I had to bust a move in the last mile of the run to catch 2 girls in front of me, I had just enough real estate to sneak in to the top 10. So, that was good too.

Now Black Pearl #10 (that is what I get for letting someone else name my Orbea) and I are packed up and headed to Memphis this morning! I absolutely love this race. I have had some of the best and worst races of my life in Memphis, but it really doesnt matter. I just love the atmosphere, the people, the town (especially the blues music on Beale street), I love the sticky hot humidity that makes everything so green, and i love that some of my favorite buddies from Boulder are coming to do the race as well.


04:09
:10

just running along…minding my own business

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I went for my usual Friday long run this morning, this time on Magnolia road, up the canyon from Boulder. It is a pretty popular run among the endurance athletes in the area. I just like it because it is uphill on the way out and down hill on the way back. Plus, it is beautiful, in a “dirt road winding through snow capped mountains” sort of way. Not everyone is into that. I am.
So I am running along, jamming to the Stones, minding my own business, when I hear hysterical screaming.”Hmmmm” I thought, and kept jamming…that is typically the extent of my “deep thinking” while running. So dont worry, nothing out of the normal has happened yet in this story.
Until I get to a long driveway with a woman standing at the end of it, screaming at the top of her lungs, “Chelsea!!!! Chelsea!!!!” i stopped, and quieted Mick, thinking her child was missing. It was at this point I heard the barking from the side of the mountain. “The cougar is up there with Chelsea.” The word “cougar” always makes me think of Erin Kummer, but no, she meant a mountain lion. More barking, a loud “RARRRRR” and then the dog was absolutely squealing. Followed by silence. The creepy kind of silence. To be honest, I find most silence creepy, but this was especially creepy silence.
I looked at the woman at the end of the driveway, checked out her footwear, sized her up, and came to the conclusion that it was probably 50/50 odds on who the mountain lion would eat next if it was still hungry. So I took off running. I was wearing this watch: http://www.timex.com/b/2229235011, because I have it in pink. And I am a pink watch type of person. The pink watch told me that my heart rate was 232…for the next 11 minutes. I think that is a world record. But I am not sure.


04:01
:10

37 in a 20

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I was driving through the neighborhoods, headed towards the highway this morning. Going 37 mph (I dont know what that is in canadian…maybe 90 kilometers an hour…give or take 50) in a 35. Or so I thought. I didnt realize I was in a school zone until the police officer informed me, and then gave me a ticket for a trillion dollars. On the bright side, I was given a lot of points. If life is anything like a basketball game, I will probably win, because I will have the most points.
As the officer handed me the ticket, I started to cry a little. What? I am a girl, it is allowed. This prompted the officer to say, “oh, this must be the worst thing that has ever happened to you.”
In an instant I was flooded by memories of things that may qualify as “worst.” The funny thing is, now that I have had a chance to step back and reflect on them, they weren’t bad at all. Times of illness, injury, losing loved ones (“losing someone” in a couple different senses of the word), have all brought about times of re-examining. Its the hard times that cause us to re-evaluate who we are, where we are, and where we are going. If we take something away from these tough experiences, or learn from them, or have a new sense of appreciation for our health, our loved ones, our future, then it really wasnt all “bad.” It was necessary.
So, being handed a ticket for a trillion dollars and having NOTHING to show for it, I agreed. “Yes” I said, “this is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”


11:08
:09

Back to Arizoner!

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It was an interesting summer, and now…poof! It is November. Life got a bit crazy in the past few months, I am going to school full time, figuring out how to deal with diabetes (another post for another day) and training for Ironman Arizona. Arizona was my first ever Ironman, at the advanced age of…21, so I dug up my race report from it and realized I was just as smart then (hahahaha) as I am now (hahahahaha).
Ironman Arizona 2006 Race Report:
I will spare you the breakfast details and skip straight to the good stuff. At 645 am I went to work on my first IM. The swim was going flawlessly and I even thought to myself “2000 people in this race and here I am swimming all by myself.” This should have raised a few eyebrows (my own eyebrows) but I continued on swimming alone. As I reached the turn around I realized I was not swimming alone, I was the sucker pulling half of the pro pack. On the way back I tucked in to the middle of the pack and let someone else pull. Swam a 55 which was the shock of my life having been a 31 min half IM swimmer. I think the QR wetsuit is to thank for that one.
After I got out of the water people kept screaming “SIT DOWN.” I had no idea why they were saying this so I kept screaming back “WHAT?!” To all of you iron virgins out there, dont ask why, just sit down and get stripped…it is as fun as it sounds.
In and out of the tent, and I was off on my bike. I hit a bump around mile 4 and lost my gel flask. No biggie, I figured I would just drink my calories. This worked out to 48 ounces of gatorade an hour…sitting here I realize that was an absolutely ridiculous idea for a 5’3″ person. In the excitement of racing, I became an idiot…at least I got over my fear of peeing on the bike. I biked a 530, which was better than expected.
Started out on the run, which is usually my favorite part of the day. After the first mile I looked down and thought “I dont remember being 8 months pregnant.” That was the start of a loooong run (I use that term loosely). I think the ENORMOUS amount of gatorade was to blame. Binge drinking is cool sometimes, but not in an Ironman. Somewhere around mile 19 I started to feel awesome, so I took off sprinting. This lasted about a mile before my gut put an end to it. Kind of a bummer, my legs never got tired, I was just too much belly and not enough muscle. Pulled in to the finish line in 10.40.
Did some chatting and headed back to my room for a shower. Started puking in the middle of Desperate Housewives, yakking would have been much more convenient at the 2 mile marker as opposed to in my hotel room. Headed back to the finish line for some cheering and to collect my sticky stuff. It was so inspirational to watch mothers, grandfathers, youngsters, first-timers, 30th timers, limpers and gallopers celebrating down the finish stretch. That is the beautiful thing about this sport, everyone has to overcome their own demons to get to the finish line, there is no easy way. In a society of instant gratification, we are a rare group…and I wouldnt have it any other way.



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