Ironman Mont Tremblant 2016

September 23, 2016

3.8 km swim, 180 km bike, 42.2 km run.  August 21, 2016 in beautiful Quebec.

So this account of my Ironman race in Mont Tremblant will be one of soften edges as I haven't written it the day afterwards.  It is written with fond memories of that rainy day.  I have to say, there are advantages to naiveté.  I didn't this race lightly.  I knew what I signed up for.  For good or for ill, I only had time to ponder my decision for 6 weeks (sign up until race) as I rode the long bike rides, one being 7 hours, and I was told I couldn't miss one ride.  (I am relatively new to cycling and went from riding 3 hour rides to 4.5 to 7 hours.)  It's not an all out effort for the level of competition I was trying to achieve.  I am just a rookie jumping in, so I had no illusions of a smoking fast race day.

Since I have nothing to compare this race to, I am pretty content with my accomplishment.  It rained for most of the race.  Really rained.  Conditions were less than ideal, at times a little nerve wracking on the bike. There was a big crash just before the 90 km mark along some roller coaster hills.  Thankfully I didn't see it.  Course officials were warning everyone to slow down.  I just saw the pile of bikes cleared to the side of the course and hoped that whoever was on them weren't hurt too badly.  

I have never rode 180 km in a rain storm before, let alone up and down long hills.  Did I say long?  I mean really long hills that grow bigger when you do the second loop of the course.  My bike stayed together and so did I.  I am pretty happy to say I finished in 13 hours and 45 minutes.

So the opinion held by those I know who have raced this race before is that the swim this year was wavy.  As this was my first IM swim, I can say I didn't mind the waves.  I just rolled with it.  Actually, I thoroughly enjoyed the swim.  Of course, it's something I love to do anyways. I get in the zone and fall in love with the rhythm of open water swimming and have to remind myself, oh yeah, after I swim 3.8 km, I have to bike 180 km after this and run a marathon.  It's the bike part that gets me.  I know it's going to be long.  Period.

It's a little chaotic in the race amid the sea of athletes making their way through the water and being a 39 years young woman, I started in the second last wave.  So I know I will have to weave through other swimmers.  Thankfully, I was told by some wise athletes to stay to the near side of the buoys going out where there is less congestion because you're on the edge of the sea of swimmers.

When you come out of the water, you go to a stripper.  Hey! A wetsuit stripper.  They pull off your wetsuit for you instead of trying to wrestle out of your wetsuit yourself.  Best idea ever as long as they don't puncture your wetsuit.  Mine were great! They had me out of my wetsuit and running to the changing tent for my bike stuff in no time.

So I took some pretty heavy teasing for my transition times because I hurried up to get to the tent and stop and chat.  But hey, I was doing this race to finish, not to make any land speed records and it is important to me to thank volunteers and maybe make their day better.  My first transition was close to 20 minutes.  I had a nice chat with a couple of the volunteers and tried to psych myself up for the bike ride.  I stopped at a few aid stations too on the bike to chat, thank volunteers (without them there's no race), to get hydration because I am not so good at catching the water bottles as I ride by (rookie remember), eat some snacks and to visit a porta-potty (important business).  Slow and steady finishes the race.  No muscle cramps for me.  I did an excellent job making sure I took in enough food and fluids to get through the bike ride.  My second transition was a little shorter.  I was just relieved to be off the bike!  I took my time to be sure I had all my gear and nutrition that I planned on using for the run.

The marathon was what I expected.  A whole lot of running with one foot in front of the other.  I did have some walk breaks after the first 10 km because I started to have the sensation I was floating away.  Low blood sugar.  I drank but didn't eat anything in the first 10 km.  Another rookie mistake.  I wouldn't normally eat anything in the first 10km of a running race and I thought I did an excellent job of eating and drinking during the bike portion of the race and was feeling pretty good going into the run.  I had to walk for a km or so and talked to some seasoned athletes to get some advice and ate the best granola bar of my life! It anchored me back down to earth so I could keep shuffling along.

Did you know they serve chicken broth during the marathon portion a IM?  It tastes pretty good for the while and then for some reason for me anyways, it lost it's appeal.

One of the things I enjoyed most was the comradery of the race.  At that length of race, the people I was with are in it to finish.  It's about reaching the end and hearing those words "You are an Ironman!".  Why not enjoy the other people racing with you and share some good conversation?  I met some cool people.  I enjoy the banter.  I hope Joe's last 7 km went well and the lady who did IM Florida enjoyed of her race.  Everyone is smiling as you're coming in the chute.  The crowd is cheering.  I crossed the line and realized how exhausted I was.

I have never been so glad to be done a race.  Check it off the bucket list.  It was a wonderful experience and now I can say "I am an Ironman!"  At this point, I don't know for sure if there will be another full ironman in my future, maybe 2018 or beyond.  I love participating in the half ironman and shorter distances.  It's more family friendly as far as training time required.  My wonderful husband supported me all along the way to this race and helped make it possible for me to participate in.  He was there at every loop in the Tremblant village to cheer me on and give me much needed encouragement. ( I love you Jeremie!)

And a big thank you to my friend, training buddy, encourager, enabler and unofficial coach, Daphne Wilkenson!  You got me ready to complete this race in 6 weeks and put up with all my nervous questions.  And to Nelson Dawley for putting up with Jeremie and I for almost a week in the village!  We had a great time!  We couldn't have had this experience without you both!

My Little Superhero

Dec 19, 2016

Cody is someone worth getting to know.  I am proud of my boy.  In my son's struggles, I see one of the strongest people I know.  Cody may not be an athlete.  He may be the last one picked according to athletic prowess, but not when it comes to heart.  He'll give it all he's got.  He doesn't give up.  I don't think he knows how do otherwise.  

From the start Cody has had to fight to be here.  He was born at 36 weeks.  That was as long as I could carry him.  Just a little guy at 5 lb. 1/2 oz. because of the meds I had to take for my crazy blood pressure.  Two days after he was born, his bowel perforated due to long segment Hirschsprung's Disease.  His large intestine was there, it just didn't function.  (Another story for another day...needless to say, full of it's own miracles and a whole lot of wonderful people who have helped my boy.  He is meant to be here even though his path has been a little bumpy.)

His health for the first couple years was a roller coaster of running to the hospital.  Sometimes it takes a whole lot of physio just to do "normal" kid things.  We made it fun.  We celebrated his own special milestones like hopping on one foot.  People might have thought us weird parents for cheering for a 5 year old who was swinging on the playground and smiling instead of being terrified.  It meant he had the abdominal strength to control his torso with the motion of the swing.  I have to believe anyone watching would be cheering too if they knew his story.  He had abdominal surgery at 6 months and had to learn to sit again.  

He's had digestive issues and eating issues.  We still struggle with getting him to eat these days, but for other reasons.  His meds don't help his appetite.

A year ago near the end of September, he started refusing to stand on his feet because they hurt.  My little cross-country runner was crawling across the floor at home.  That was when the arthritis started, but we didn't know it until a couple months later and some medical tests later.  I took a lot of flack from people saying he just wanted to stay home from school, that this was life and for him, it was going to be hard, but he needed to be in class.  He took a lot of flack for not wanting to do things.  As a mom, I knew there was something more going on with my boy.  I am a gentle person, some well meaning people suggested that I should be tougher with him.  

This is where I will add, they did it in love, but sometimes we hurt those we love even with the best of intentions.  I am a patient person, but it didn't mean that the well meaning suggestions didn't sting a bit.  I am a proud mother of 2 kids and my children are my treasure.  I am not a pushover. I am doing the best I can with my boy and I live with him.  I see the pain he goes through and I see the little boy antics.  He is like any other child trying to get away with things, seeing how far he can push.  I have walked with him through the tough stuff and been there when there is nothing more to do than hold him and try to be a comfort when life hurts.  All I trying to say here is all those of you blessed with healthy children, be gentle with your words and parental advice. Parenting a child with health issues whole other challenge.

My Cody loves cross country and he was so excited to run the Mickey Mile in Florida this January, he had just run a great cross country season at home before the arthritis hit and it hit hard.  My husband and I debated whether we were going to let him participate in the Mile.  This vacation we had to rent a wheelchair after the first day because the walking all day was too much.  Cody insisted he could do it.  He had done the mile the year before in a little over 9 minutes.  This year though, after 200 metres, we had to walk.  It was a struggle.  He was crying and leaning on me for a good chunk of it.  In that moment, the reality of his health and what had changed hit home.  It took a few months because he is such a tough kid with all that he had faced before that.  A volunteer asked him if he needed to stop.  He didn't want to.  It was heartbreaking for him.  He didn't quit though, Cody and I crossed the finish line together.  I was both extremely proud and sad for him.  Cross-country is his favourite sport. 

After our vacation, we have seen some wonderful doctors and with some meds, Cody was able to participate in cross-country this season and run his best season ever with the warm September we had.  His goal was to come in 100th at regionals and he came in 81st.  I got to watch both his races, bursting with joy and pride because I know his story.  It was beautiful.  Some days we can run and others we have to walk.  And other days we wonder if we might have to find a new sport.  

Since this fall and the return of the cold, his arthritis has flared up again.  He stopped playing outside again.  We're in the thick of battle.  We have some good doctors and we've had to switch medicines and sometimes my boy has no energy.  I see in him a different strength, a strength of spirit and I see a person of strong faith.  He doesn't give up, even though some days he is too tired and nauseated to go to school.  We're still in transition between medications and despite side effects, he has been able to play soccer with his friends at recess so here's to hoping this flare up will fade.  We're learning how to work with his new "normal" right now.  Part of Cody's path is finding creative new ways of getting things done with the energy level/joint issues he has that day.  iPads are awesome and equal less printing.  His hands get tired easily.  He needs help carrying things because most things are too heavy for him to lift when he is sore and he's still learning to speak up when things hurt instead of struggling through.

Sometimes Cody amazes me with his perspective on life.  With what he has gone through, there are little windows of light where he shares wisdom beyond his years.  We have shared many special days of taking the lemons and making lemonade by reading books together, watching epic Lord of the Rings and StarWars marathons.  We are both huge fans.  I have made him an Obi Wan costume, a Legolas costume and a Finn/Poe jacket.  He helps decide the details he wants.  I love his quirks.  It had to be the Legolas costume from the Hobbit movie because the jacket is better.

I am naturally a very strong, athletic person, but I am also cancer survivor, so I know to a certain extent what it means to feel utterly exhausted and weak.  I have had to walk and not run.  I had my times when I had to get up, eat breakfast and then go back to bed and sleep until noon so that my body could heal.  At the same time, I knew if I rested, my strength would return.  He is one of my driving forces when I run.

With my son, I see the fatigue and I can't tell him it will go away.  Instead, I give him a hug, try to encourage him and pray with him for healing because I know his juvenile idiopathic arthritis could go into remission again.  It may not and he will need heroic strength to get through.  It may be something Cody walks through for the rest of his life like his surgically altered digestive tract and the issues that come with it.  Either way, I am going to be there for him and he needs to move forward and make the best of life that he can.  I see the moments when his health wears on him and weighs heavy, when he tries to hide his health issues from his friends because he doesn't want to seem weak in front of them.  If only they could see what I see.  Maybe, he will feel comfortable telling them soon.  They're good kids, but they're kids.  And this I leave up to Cody.  He is dealing with it and he knows his teachers and I are there for him.  Thank God for good teachers!  His school has been great about his health.

Cody has a quiet internal strength.  He is my 11 year old Superhero/Elf Warrior/Jedi. (The Force is strong in this one!  Sorry, I couldn't help myself.)   I write this today as much for myself as anyone out there reading this because it's better to let things out than hold them in.  I am learning how to parent a child with JI Arthritis and it is a process too.   God Bless!

Too Hot for both Tires

Aug 8 2016

It's taper time.  If I get anything from this race, one of the things I hope I learn is confidence.  If someone would have told me that I could run 46 km and then cycle 192 km a couple days later, I would have likely laughed even a month ago.  I've done a few 4 km plus swims.  There's nothing like a good friend to get you do something crazy outside your comfort zone.

Now the big stuff is done until the big day.  I hope I can do this taper right.

My last big bike ride was halted with a bang!  It was to be a 4.5 hr ride, but sometimes workouts just don't turn out the way you expect.  I knew I couldn't do the ride in one stint like I usually would because I had to take my son to his first day of physio midday.   I got in a little over an hour with my friend in the early morning while it was still cool.

Last Thursday was a hot one! As I set into my ride to finish the 3.5 hours left, I was taking it easy.  It's not suppose to be an all out effort.  Long rides are aerobic, a nice continuous pace that is comfortable to sustain.  Other than the top of my head feeling like it was roasting in my black helmet, I was enjoying myself.

A little over an hour in, just when I was thinking that I was getting a good ways from home and should turn around, my tire made a little popping sound and then my ride got rough.  Sure enough, I had a flat.  Undeterred, I pulled out my spare tube and got to fixing my tire.  Just when I was feeling proud of myself for my self sufficient bike repair, my other tire blew up. With the sound, birds in the fallow field beside me took to flight.  I pretty nearly jumped out of my skin too.  It was as loud as a shot gun blast.  Just being on the side of the road in the sun was enough to take out my other tire.  The second blowout deflated my chances at getting home under my own power.  I had only brought one tube.  One hour away from home by bicycle would be a long, long walk, much too long in cycling shoes.

Thankfully, I had my cell phone and could call for a rescue ride from a friend.  As I walked my bike towards the nearest tree in sight to sit and wait in some shade, a long stream of beach traffic passed by along the road.  A few drivers, noticing my flat tire, even stopped and offered me a ride which I politely declined.  I got home in one piece.  So ended my very, very warm last long ride before the race.
Sometimes, you just have to know when to let things go.  I guess it's only going to be two bike rides over 90 km before my Ironman race.  What will be, will be.  My goal is to finish the race.

Now I can say I am a Dirty Girl, my first ultra race

July 25, 2016

Dirty Girls Run

So Saturday, I did something new.  I hopped in our truck and drove to Mansfield to do my first 6 hour race.  6 hours of running around a 8 km trail through the forest.  Of course, not without consulting a couple friends for advice as to what level I should participate at.  I'm definitely a novice when it comes to ultra sports.  Part of me wanted to go for the gusto and sign up for the 24 hr race.  It's always good to talk to someone who knows you well in a decision like this and get brought back down to earth.  32 km wasn't big enough and I had no idea of what I was getting into so 12 hr and 24 got left for another day, another time.  6 hrs was the scary, but not too scary distance.  My jumping off point.

All kinds of questions were running through my mind.  The obvious, can I actually run for 6 hours?  I've run a few marathons, but on paved roads.  This is the bush with roots and undulating terrain. My sprained ankle had mostly healed out.  The goal of the day was to still be moving along at the end sure-footedly as the hourglass ran out.

As we gathered at the start, I noticed it was different from any road race I've done.  For one, everyone seems to know everyone and they're on a first name basis.  The first couple laps were filled with great conversation as we trotted along.  I love hearing other people's stories.  Many people camped on site the night before and will be spending the night again.

Not just that, it's a small pool of people rushing in to sign up for these races.  There's an ultra community.  Not everyone wants to run for hours along the same loop of trail up and down, over tree roots and even climbing over a fallen tree.  I'm thinking maybe I might be one of them eventually.  I love the forest.  I love the challenge of finding the best footing, planning my steps.  It's much more interesting than plodding along on the pavement.  (Not that I don't enjoy road races.)

I didn't tread into this lightly.  Being a cancer survivor, I cherish my health.  Part of the appeal of running is the burn, heart and lungs working at optimum - I am alive.  I'll push it in a race, but not too much.  I love to play hard, I love a challenge, but at the end of the day I want to go home to my family.  This is only recreation and I need to be able to be there for my kids.

So around and round I went along the route, sipping water from my birthday gift camelback.   The conversation trickled away as did the people continuing on at a run.  Most people have begun to walk.  They're racing longer than I am I tell myself.  I still feel like running.  I'm actually not that tired.  Pace yourself, drink, stop for ice, water, heed, pretzels, potato at the two aid stations. Hydrate, electrolytes.  One salt tab per loop.  Thank the volunteers, for the ice, water, heed and potatoes.  My eyes are burning when I stop to refill because I start sweating.   Why is that?  It's not bad when I'm on the move, but when I stop I sweat like crazy.

Thankfully most of the course in shade because it's getting warmer.  I'm doing this and I feel good.  With all the running midsummer day in preparation for the ironman race, it's not bad.  Maybe I'll get to my 5th lap soon.  (My goal was 40 km.  I've run a few marathons and 40 km was reasonable considering that I have an ironman race I am training for, my "A" race.)  Keep it slow and steady, don't race it.  Then I reach the 5th lap and think, 4 more km.  All I need to do is make it to the 4 km aid station and I am done.  When the clock runs out I have to be at one of the check points spaced every 2 km for it to count.  I get to the 4 km mark and get logged in, but encourage me to make use of the last 15 minutes and try for the 6km mark.  2km more finishing on a very long, steep climb.  I reach the hill and run it.   I almost made it. 100m or so to go, my time ran out, but I kept going.  46 km in 6:01.  The longest run I've done in my life.  Even thought the last 2 km didn't count, I am on cloud nine.  

A common response I get when I've told people about my experience is, "Are you crazy?  Who wants to run for 6 hours?"  I do, and next time maybe I'll race it and try for 50 plus km or maybe I'll try a 12 hour race next year.

Ironman Dreams

July 18, 2016

So I find myself wondering how I ended up signing up for a full ironman.  I guess I should I still can't believe I worked up the courage to hit the enter button after filling out the electronic form.   A bucket list race entailing 3.8 km Swim, 180 Km bike and 42.2 km run.

However, as much as my family may believe, the decision to sign up wasn't spontaneous.  I'm a thinker and I don't do spontaneous well.  I have to analyze and weigh out probabilities, ponder outcomes.  For a stay at home mom, an ironman race is kind of pricy.  Can I actually finish this epic race?  I admit I had some good persuasion from some of of my fellow triclub members.

The swim doesn't scare me.  I kind of love swimming, which in the end totally was used to convince me to agree that maybe I could tackle a full ironman.  My friend is doing the same race and as part of her training, was doing a long swim and since it's never a good idea to swim in open water alone, no matter how good a swimmer you are, I figured I would try to do the whole distance.  Since I was getting ready for a half Ironman, I had already been swimming 3 km in the pool.

So we went one loop around the lake: 1800 m.  Easy Peezy.  No problem.  Then we started the second loop and all kinds of crazy thoughts rushed through my head. My anxiety was messing with my efficiency and breathing, not good on a long swim.  Did I bite off more than I could chew? What if I cramp? What if I can't make it to shore?

I should mention that I was wearing a wetsuit and I wasn't particularly tired at that point at all. Just really fearful about my own abilities.  So I thought to myself, wetsuits make a person pretty buoyant, so what exactly do I need to do to stay afloat anyways? All I had to do was a little doggy paddle with my hands.  After that I calmed down and ended up swimming two and a half times around the lake.  And I enjoyed it!  And then there's that sudden realization I can do the swim portion of the Ironman, I just swam 4.5 km, the race is only 3.8 km.

Honestly, it's the bike portion that scares me.  180 km on a bike is a long, long time.  Up until this spring I would have thought it darn near impossible for me.  In fact, I thought I thought I was just a terrible cyclist.  I could barely stand riding my old bike for 2 hours as much as I loved cycling.  When I mentioned it to people, they said I needed to toughen up, more time in the saddle.  Toughen up!  I can tell you not being able to stand straight after a short bike ride is not normal, it's not being whimsy.  There really was something wrong.  I had the wrong bike for me.

My friend had just got a new bike and suggested that I go for a bike fit.  Hindsight really is 20/20, I can tell you bike fit is everything! Thanks to Heath Cockburn and the Eleven, I have a bike that fits my build and the difference is night and day.  I went from a large frame bike to a small frame bike.  No more excruciating back pain. I can do a tight turn without feeling like I am going to fall over. I feel safe getting into aero position on my bike.

The longest ride I've done 103 km up until last week.  My friend got me through my first 145 km ride.  It's all about taking it easy, going long and steady strong, not all out.

The run will be what it will be, one foot in front of the other and moving forward.  I have run since I was young and I love it.  I've done Disney's Goofy challenge a couple times now (1/2 marathon one day, followed by a marathon the next.) and I know what's like to run on tired legs, one kilometre at a time. Don't take it all in at once.  As long as I can keep going, I'll get there.  The mantra I have held to the last couple years while participating in races and dealing with my sore back.  (So glad to have my new bike, it's like night and day.  My back is happy now.)

I've decided to write about the experience since the Ironman may be a one time occurrence. Not that I likely won't want to do a repeat performance, I like half ironman races and I'll probably want to do another one.  That's just how it goes.  The half marathon was on the bucket list and then it became the marathon and why not do the Goofy race and do a half marathon one day and a marathon the next? Then it became a half ironman and not just any half ironman, I did Muskoka with it's crazy tough bike course twice.  The bucket list evolves as I find out what's out there in this big wide world.  Up next this summer is my first ultra race.  It's human nature to push boundaries, but I like to do it reasonably, lower risk, proceed with caution, well considered and trained for.

It's the time it takes to train that has me wondering whether I will do one again.  With 2 children and a busy household, time is a precious commodity.  It was a challenge to squeeze in a 5 3/4 bike ride followed by a 45 minute run and the next the long bike ride is 7 hours and hopefully 180km plus!  Not to mention, it's fun just to relax in summer and play with my kids.  I want them to enjoy their summer too and I still want those blissful beach days with them. It's a balancing act between mommy time and finding someone to spend time with them while I am working out so I can be an athlete too. (Big shout out to my awesome husband, Nana and Papa and Grandma and Grandpa)  

It takes a huge support team to get ready for an ironman race and it helps to be part of a really great triathlon club.  There's nothing like sweating out some speed training on the track in 30 degree weather or getting in a 30 km run with a friend.  Camaraderie, triathlon may be an individual sport, but it's definitely easier to get to the finish line when you know that you have friends experiencing the same race somewhere on the course or waiting at the finish line cheering you on.

Squidy Sea Monster-One Tall Tale Freshly Served: Writing Exercise

Mar 4, 2014

Writing Prompt:  “Being inexperienced and having just made….” 
15 minutes

“Why would they ever have let Sandy at the pole first?  Clark fully deserved to fill that seat.  He’d have known what bait to use.  Being inexperienced and having just made the catch of the year, of the decade really, Sandy had no idea how to reel it in.  All I heard was big splash.  I was at the cooler getting a cold one when it all happened, Officer, huh, Delaware. 

            When I turned around, ole Sandman was being pulled through the water like rag doll.  The captain was no help.  The old salt’s only thought when he saw the giant squid was to put the throttle down.  All that served was to tick off the beast, as it got a jet of water in its nicotine yellow eyes.   Squinting and glaring something horrid, it wrapped its titanic tentacles round the yacht pulling it in 'twain.  The severed ship went down fast, she did.  Paul and Martin managed cut loose the diving dingy and scramble into it paddling away like mad men.  I hollered after them, but to no avail.  I just held fast to the beer cooler cause I know styrofoam floats.  That’s how you found me bobbing there, sir, by the way.  I guess the beast doesn’t like his meat well marinated. 

Last I saw of Sandy he was pulled into the brink.  The Captain, well, he’d be a guest of Davy Jones.  He went down with his ship saluting." 

Dark Water

Feb 9, 2016

Writing Prompt: Darkness- Write a story inspired by what you can’t see. 
20 minutes.

The temperature had to be at least 32 degrees and after three hours of gardening, Beth found herself staring down into the shadowy depths at the dock.  

Beth hated even putting her toes in the lake for fear of what might take a quick nibble.  What if someone had dumped their pet pirana?  Could it survive under the ice in the winter?  What if it was lurking there just under the boards waiting to grab her toes?  Jake would laugh and tell her she was ridiculous if she spoke her fear out loud.  Perhaps it was due to the shark week marathons Jake had lost himself to binge watching last week.  He, the self-proclaimed shark aficionado, swore up and down they lived on a land locked lake.  Nothing large and carnivorous could eek itself in through underground springs.

Joining her at the water side and elbowed Beth in the ribs.  “There are no bull sharks,” he teased.  “Why wouldn’t you jump right in, are you afraid of the biddy minnows?”

Beth knew she was being silly, but staring into the dark water, she saw something.  A dash of silver, the flick of a fin, something living and that something likely had teeth.  Big ones.  Do pike bite?

Maybe it was the way the slimy seaweed, as she passionately called it, and the way it waved over the hidden knee deep discustingly squishy muck in a tempting momentary reveal of any creepy crawly creatures just waiting to bite the unwary wader.  Nope, the water would feel wonderful, but Beth couldn’t do it.  She lost her nerve.  

After a minute or two of taunting and tugging at her hand, Jake wriggled out of his t-shirt, threw off his sneakers and socks and leapt with a shout of glee into the lake alone.  Beth watched as he set off across the lake, smooth strokes carrying him out to the middle in a couple of minutes.  He paused for a moment to look back at her with a big grin and waved.  

            Sweat ran down Beth's face.  It was so bloody hot!  She sunk down in her purple Muskoka chair, sulking, prepared to bake in the sun and watch Jake swim laps only to leap up after the chair roasted her seat. 

Forget it.  It was do or die, Beth plummeted into the blue embrace with a sploosh.  

That was when she heard Jake screech! 

Your Move: Writing Prompt

May 3, 2016

Writing Club

Writing Prompt: "Your Move"   ( Yep, that's all we got!  See what you get in 20 minutes of writing.  It led to some pretty great stories in group.  Just jot down whatever comes to mind.)

The first thing Toby noticed upon reaching the doorway was the void of the room itself.  Painted a drab shade of gray and the concrete floor a variation of the same, her eyes made a quick round of the space.  Completely empty.  Where had the white rabbit gone? Had she only imagined it?  Surely as she drew breath, she’d seen it scamper around the corner, down the hall to dart into the room.  Curiously she set after it, in hopes of scooping it up so she could stuff it back down the top hat Harold had left on the bench centre stage.

“Look up!,” Toby heard.  Following the voice, Toby’s gaze rose.  There in the corner of the ceiling sat a simple wooden stool.  And tucked away underneath hid the white rabbit.  His albino pink eyes peered down at her.  Or did he look up at her.  Was she up or down?  With her confusion, Toby suddenly felt dizzy and stumbled forward into the space.  Then she was tumbling towards the ceiling or was it the floor.  
It had to have been that tall drink of water Harold had passed her just before his trick back fired and he sent her on this wild goose chase.  And now up was down and down was up and she was scraping herself off the ceiling.  
The rabbit, startled at her sudden arrival, scurried out from under the stool across the floor/ceiling just out of reach where Toby lay.  Looking back over to her as it reached the doorway, it leapt over the door frame and left the room.  Trembling on the floor, or was it the floor, Toby watched the white ball of fur hop down the dark hallway to disappear into inky black.  
Pulling herself to stand on shaky legs, she slowly rose and crossed the room.  With a struggle, she pulled herself up to the door frame.   It seemed much higher than before, with a huge heave, she was up and over the lintel and suddenly falling into darkness towards a wooden surface. 

            Her hand brushed against velvet as she tumbled and she grabbed on for dear life.  Light came from the beside her and there she was with a plop head over heels, tangled in a red curtain clear as day in the spotlight.  Harold stood on the stage holding the white rabbit by the scruff.  It wiggled it’s nose contemptuously.

“It’s your move.” Harold laughed as he quickly stuffed the rabbit back in the large black top hat resting on the stage.