Insult to injury

I’m not sure if you’re supposed to learn something on every key training session, but I seem to. Two weeks ago I learned you’re not supposed to wear underwear with your cycling shorts (honestly, how are you supposed to learn that if no one pulls you aside and tells you?). Last week I learned that running 17+ on the treadmill is like running 10 miles outside in August. The past week I’ve picked up even more.

Sunday I was scheduled to do a 90 mile ride. This would be my first ride that I did completely alone, but I figured it was basically just like riding with people who’d dropped me a few miles in (which would basically be anyone capable of riding 90 miles). I didn’t put enough long rides in on my actual bike for Arizona, and I’ve been determined to not allow myself to do the same for Wisconsin. Anyway, the plan was to do the 59 mile Ironstar half IM course, then ride to Richards and back, a 33 mile addition. The ride went pretty well despite the fatigue in my legs from my long run two days before. The course, which I’d ridden 2 of the past 3 weeks, is a simple loop with some rolling hills. Despite my familiarity with the course, near the end of the loop I made a wrong turn and added about 3 miles to the trip. Oops! No biggie, I thought. After I finished the loop, I started the out and back portion of the ride. It was getting hot since I hadn’t started til 8:30, but I was hanging in there because I had so little left to do. Finally, I finished the out and back and turned to head back home.

...except I turned down the wrong street. The last time I’d added to the course I’d missed the safer turnoff to home and had to ride on a major road for a mile or two extra. It was very nerve-wracking, and I was determined to not pass my safe journey home. Unfortunately, in my zeal to avoid said turn I took a wrong one 0.1 miles early. I realized I’d made a mistake when I was about 3 miles out—about the time I ate my last Clif Blok and ran out of water. Fuck. I turned around, got on the right road, and crawled home. All told I spent about a half hour without food and water, which might have been a little more comfortable if it hadn’t been in the 2:00 PM hour. By the time I got back to my car I was in no mood to do a run-- after all, I'd added over 9 miles to my intended ride--so I packed up, drove home, and took a cool shower.

What did I learn in all this? A lesson I should have known months ago: always bring enough hydration/nutrition. It’s worth it to have an extra water bottle or gel with you at the end of the ride in case something unexpected happens--like, for example, getting lost twice. All of this is especially ridiculous because I did stop to buy some water (and a Coke...I was craving one, and it probably kept me from running out of food even earlier) at mile 40. Next time I guess I’ll buy two bottles. :-(

Fast forward to last night. After my wild success doing my long run on a treadmill last week I was planning on doing it again this week. The plan: 18.5 miles, one Clif Shot electrolyte drink, 2 GUs, a bag of Bloks, and an iPod. I also decided to try out my new sports bra and shorts I bought during tax free weekend last Friday. I was a little nervous about the long run since I’d rolled my ankle doing hills on Tuesday night, but figured I could stop if it really bothered me. Well, the run went great—I felt good til mile 17, had no GI troubles, and was pretty jazzed about what music came up on my shuffled playlist. My ankle also felt just fine, at least while I was running.

When I finished my run I stretched, wiped down my ‘mill, then headed to the shower. That’s when I found the largest and nastiest chafe mark on my chest that I’ve had in recent history. So much for my new awesome bra! In addition, the cut on my stubbed toe (I closed it in a sliding closet door on Monday and proceeded to bleed all over the bathroom… gross, huh?) was also aching and swollen, along with my rolled ankle. I was falling apart.

I went home and was fretting about all these non-injury afflictions to my boyfriend, to which he responded, “yeah but it beats a torn ACL.” Eh, I guess. Still, in an ideal world it would be quite wonderful to stay properly hydrated, unchafed, and avoid stubbing one’s toes (which I've done twice in a week).

I’m pretty stoked for the next month and can hardly believe my race is just 31 short days away. I only have three long rides and one long run left! The end is near and very very bright… so long as I can avoid rubbing off my skin or hitting my clunky toes on nearby objects. Train and learn, right?