This weekend I did my first sprint triathlon (COMbat Tri in Texas City... it's a well run race if you're in the neighborhood for next year). Since the distances were short by most standards-- a 300 yard pool swim, 15 mile bike, and 3 mile run-- I was pretty stoked to let loose a little and have a speedy race. My goal time was 1:16, which I thought was pretty attainable. Well, I was wrong. Turns out that sprint tris require the thing I fear most: sprinting. I rolled in after 1:25, feeling like booty but coming in 3rd in my age group. I’m so glad more 24-25 year olds don’t know about triathlons so I can still get hardware.
Let me explain about the race. Everyone gets their number by their seed time they put down for the swim. Before the start of the race we lined up by our race number/seed time around the pool, and every 10 seconds someone hopped in the pool to start. You swim up one side of the lane, down the other, and then go under the lane line to the next lane and do it over again til you’re out of lanes. If you touch someone’s feet they’re supposed to stop and let you pass, but people are generally jerks about this part. Case in point: #22, the guy in front of me. I touched his feet 1/2 way through the 5th lap (of 12). I figured he’d stop at the wall at the end of the lap so I went to the left side of the wall to do my flipturn so he wouldn't have to lose as much time while I passed him. Turns out I was wrong because that huge slow jerk (okay he’s a triathlete and therefore quite slim, but still) pulled out in front of me off the wall. I touched his feet the entire next lap and had to resort to breaststroke for most of the way down. Man, what a dick. Finally he let me pass, and I never saw him again til transition. I clocked about a 4:24 (plus 8 seconds to get to the timing pad), so not much faster than my seed time of 4:27, certainly not 10 seconds faster to catch up to him. The truth was he lied on his seed time to feed his ego. I’m still annoyed.
Anyway, the bike was out and back a few different ways along the feeder roads of a state route. The way out I was going 21 mph, pretty sweet tracks for me. The wind was at my back and I was feeling okay except for my stomach, which had been hurting/cramping since before the race. My guess is PowerBars are not the way to go for me pre-race; I’ll have to try something else next time. When I turned around to head back, however, I felt even worse because of the wind whooping my ass. I maintained about 14 mph, but it took a lot of work to do so. When I pulled into transition again, I was exhausted.
In transition the 2 turds next to me had reracked their bikes crookedly so there was no room for mine. I panicked and shoved til there was room, tossed on some running shorts and changed my shoes, and left-- without my race number. This will get you DQed in 99% of races, but I got lucky (fortunate because I didn’t notice til 1.5 miles into the run I was sans number). I was as thrilled as always to get on my feet and pass some folks like I do in other races given my crappy biking. This time was different. The essence of booty that I was feeling in my stomach didn’t go away, and I felt like I was crawling. On top of that, the slow swimmer/fast biker folks that I usually pass had started seconds, maybe minutes behind me; there was simply no ground for me to gain. Ultimately I only passed two people the entire time! I’m so lame. I crossed the finish line grateful to be done, but not with the same fatigue I'm used to at the end of a tri.
It was a tough race for me. However, I learned a lot about what I need to improve in my races, especially because I have another sprint coming up in less than 2 weeks (fortunately with a .5 mile open water swim and a shorter 11 mile bike leg). Here’s just a sample:
1) No powerbars for breakfast. They don’t like my tummy.
2) Find a good racing outfit that can go from swim to bike to run. I can’t change clothes for every leg of a sprint race, which I did for Combat. Come on, that’s so lame.
3) Save something for a great run. Most folks don’t feel swell when they hit the pavement, so why waste my energy in the biking leg of the race where I can’t make up any ground?
4) Practice my transitions, which suck.
5) Lose weight this minute. Seriously. Now. Ready, go.
On the drive home I got progressively more disappointed in myself. It’s not that I’m in bad shape or I didn’t try; I’m just slower than I want to be. This race turned out to be the thing I’d been needing: motivation to get back into serious training. It was time for action. I went to lift right after the race, then went home to plan my workouts for the next 10 days. On Sunday, I went to numb my mind at Memorial by riding around the 1.1 mile bike path 26 TIMES before I went spinning for 2 hours. At the park I got stung by the bee on the thigh, hit in the face by two more bees, AND I got passed by a mountain biking smoker on the bike path (in my defense I was warming up). Things were not going as planned. I was sour by the time I left for the Y, but I had a good workout that included a decent amount of time on my own saddle, which wasn’t unbearably uncomfortable for once. Hopefully the new non-sore ass is more of an indication than the bees of how the next four months will go. At any rate, I'm just glad to have my head back in the game, and just in time.
P.S. Did you know a bee sting will give you a huge red swollen circle on your leg? It quit hurting by Monday but it looks horrendous. I'm fascinated with it because I haven't had a bee sting in at least 12 years.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Crazy week
Last week was crazy! Why? To begin, I got up to train before work twice. That’s two more times than usual! Also, the apartment complex across the street from our complex burned down. The place had been vacated a few weeks earlier and they were in the process of demolishing the buildings, so no one got hurt. Still, it caused a huge ruckus and put lots of smoke in the air, which of course went straight toward our apartments. We couldn’t use the air conditioning for about a day, but fortunately we didn’t have any smoke damage.
It was eerie driving to the pool the next morning and seeing everything in shambles across the street. Morning walkers were poking their noses through the fence to get a better look at the destruction. Everything was quiet. You know, maybe we all need a little destruction in our lives... it sure gives nice perspective to what’s still intact. Like, for example, my healthy, loving relationship with my boyfriend AND my workout schedule. Sometimes I think I have it all.
It was eerie driving to the pool the next morning and seeing everything in shambles across the street. Morning walkers were poking their noses through the fence to get a better look at the destruction. Everything was quiet. You know, maybe we all need a little destruction in our lives... it sure gives nice perspective to what’s still intact. Like, for example, my healthy, loving relationship with my boyfriend AND my workout schedule. Sometimes I think I have it all.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Florida is prettier than Texas
I just got back today from a trip to see my aunt and uncle in Florida. They live in Sarasota, what used to be a cutesy artsy fartsy place about an hour south of Tampa. As with most totally awesome places on the coast, the place has morphed into this slightly depressing but still gorgeous city with towering condos and monstrous houses on itty bitty lots. I feel like my vacationer’s soul has grown up in Sarasota because my aunt has lived there most of my life, and I've visited maybe a dozen or so times. I used to want to retire there, but already I can’t afford it and have given up the dream. Besides, I’m sure the place would lose its charm without my aunt dragging me to the EcoFest or the farmer’s market or didigeridoo playing or botanical garden concerts--you get my drift. This particular weekend we spent the mornings relaxing and being family, the lunch hours exploring some fun and/or different event, and the afternoons lounging in the beach. I’m amazed at how much more whole I feel on the beach; it’s my sanctuary. I don’t know how that ever happened. I don’t have special family beach memories, and the one time I went to Easter sunrise service on the sand I was pretty damn grumpy for having to get up for the freaking sunrise. At any rate, I was thinking: maybe we have these places that make us happy or serene or vital because they’re our natural “place”. Maybe some folks are most at peace in church, in the forest, in a dark room. Maybe my great place of worship is on the sand, bowing before the waves.
Hey, just an idea.
Hey, just an idea.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Worst idea ever
Never again am I going to an ironman without a travel companion. I still think it’s dumb (and selfish) to make someone suffer through an entire wasted day of watching me torture myself when I could just as easily do it at home around Memorial and on my trainer. I didn’t see a need to bring a support team--in my family-less case at least--until now. In the future it will be tough luck for whomever comes with me, because SOMEONE WILL be coming with me. I won’t admit that I can’t do the weekend alone because I just did, but having someone there to support me when I can’t make it myself would be really nice. I made it back home, but I sure as hell don’t know how! Between collecting the 37 bags of equipment (plus my bike) and hauling a huge computer bag, huge duffel bag, and huge bike box, I was pooped when I saw Houston again. I don’t even want to TALK about putting together/taking apart my bike or my various skin ailments. Let’s just say there was a lot of talking to myself and a ton of tears.
So anyway, allow me to give a painfully detailed account of how I raced this weekend (since that’s probably more interesting than the logistics of carrying many heavy bags by myself). I rocked. Either I don’t make difficult enough goals, I am better than I think I am, or I just competed like a champ, but I shattered every goal I had except one. Here are my splits:
1:06:12 swim (6:48 faster than goal)
6:28 T1 (00:32 faster than goal)
7:25:06 (14:54 faster than goal)
9:04 T2 (2:04 SLOWER than goal... I had some sunscreen/sunglasses/hair tie troubles. I’m over it now.)
4:52:30 run (7:30 faster than goal)
TOTAL: 13:39:18--27:42 faster than my highest expectations, 58:42 faster than goal
Even though you’re not supposed to compare ironman times from different courses, that time sure looks a lot better than 15:58, doesn’t it? I also got some hardware by placing 5th in my age group (plaque, fancy socks, and a gel flask!). Before you think my expanding head is floating to the stratosphere, I know my time isn’t that impressive in the super scheme of things... I wouldn’t have made it to the podium with my time unless I was under 25 or over 50 years old. Of course, I won’t really care about that until next year when I age up. Right now, I’m very proud of myself, if only because of my significant improvement.
Now I’ll give the play-by-play.
The swim
The swim is a wade start, which means you have to float around near the start line for 10-15 mins and hope you don’t lose circulation in your feet. That kind of sucked, but it still beat a beach start. I thought a good plan would be to start at the front of the line and the middle of the pack--taking the inside of the loop would probably mean getting a black eye. I figured on the way back in the crowd would have thinned and I could take the inside. Well, the way out was great; I only got kicked in the face once and didn’t kick anyone myself. I took the turn close to the buoys and headed inside for the way home. Everything went according to plan--the crowd had thinned, and I was going to minimize my trip back to transition and be a hero. The only problem was that since I wasn’t swimming with a group of people, I didn’t have anyone to sight for me (sighting is sticking your head out of the water to see where the heck you’re going). My lazy ass figured I could just swim near someone and be fine. Unfortunately, I can’t swim straight and I ended up zigzagging like it was my job; I added at least 2-3 mins to my swim time in just the last ½ mile. I didn’t have any expectations once I hit the ground to have my wetsuit removed, and that lack of expectation was fulfilled--the time read 1:21. “Wow I am SLOW” I thought as I glanced at my watch (which read 1:06). I realized the clock had started with the pros and was 15 minutes longer than my real time. Boy was I elated! I’d taken the swim easy and still beaten my goal!
T1
My first transition: swell. In retrospect, it’s very sad that I didn’t get any sunscreen on my back or legs, as they’d end up very burnt (and a nice rash on my legs, which do not care much for the sun). A bummer, but a minor one.
The bike
I felt really great hitting the first loop of the bike. The wind was at my back on the way out, which happens to be all slightly uphill. At the turnaround I even went to the bathroom, something I’d never done in a race (usually I like to pretend I’m a pro and stay right on the edge of my hydration requirements). What a proud moment! :-) I finished lap 1 well under goal pace and my legs still felt fresh. Then my ass started to hurt. I hate my bike seat with a burning, bruised, chafed passion, and that’s sad since my seat is *new*. I’d like to kick the guy at Cyclone Cycles on the foot for selling it to me. It blows. But I digress... lap 2 the wind started picking up, making the trip home pretty rough. In this lap I stopped to loosen my shoe; a volunteer had put it on for me (too tight) and my foot was numb. I was still sitting pretty (well, not literally) into lap 3, where I also stopped for some lame reason again at the halfway point (“get more salt tablets”). These stops added 5-6 mins to my time, but did a lot to clear my head. I hopped off the bike ahead of schedule and headed to T2 surrounded by cheers from the crowd.
T2
Transition 2 wasn’t my best. I had stopped drinking (why??? I’m so dumb in the heat) on the second half of the bike and my brain decided to take a union break. I scrambled for my clothes and finally made it out the sunscreen put’er-on’ers. The volunteer sprayed my freaknasty chafed/burned neck, and I thought I was going to die from the sting. I didn’t. Unfortunately, my legs were again forgotten in the shuffle and continued to crisp in the Arizona sun. Sad, huh?
The run
Despite my skin injuries, I felt good. GREAT. I felt great starting the run in Florida too; I just love getting off that stinkybutt bike. My first mile was 10:20 and I’d walked the water stop. This was considerably faster than my 11:30/mile goal pace, so I was afraid it wouldn’t last. Still, I had plenty of time to add before I had to worry about missing my goal splits. I decided then that this race was my bitch. I mostly held my pace for the next few miles until I ran into Troy, a 44 year old accountant from Maryland, who was on his second lap. We ran and chatted for about 6 or 7 miles at about 10:15 pace. The fast pace and my lack of fluid intake started to get to me, so I wished him well as he slowly got away from me. I started to have Nasty Stomach, a common ailment for endurance folks. I decided it was all in my head and I needed to assure my stomach that it was imperative that it continue to do its job. The organ talk worked, and soon I was feeling okay again. Night fell (finally!) and then Crazy started setting in. Yes, if it’s not one thing it’s another with me! Every water stop and every time I crossed a timing mat, I wanted to cry, and I can’t exactly say why. I was hoping someone at home was following my race online, and just the thought of someone hitting refresh and cheering my progress made me choke up. This always brings on an asthma attack a few mins after the tears, so I decided that if I wanted to finish in my new goal time of 13:45 (so that even with the 15 mins added from the pro start I’d be under 14 on the clock) I’d simply have to dissociate. I pretended that I was not running the race, and the pain that I observed was not mine; therefore, I could press on, pick up my pace, and worry about achieving my goal splits. After mile 17 I promised myself I could cry a few minutes after I finished, but until then I had a goal and no excuses to make for missing 13:45. I had to deliver. Yes folks, the best way to fight Crazy is with more Crazy. The race was again mine; my game worked and 1 minute after finishing, I burst into tears, but ahead of schedule.
So yeah, I finished (sans asthma attack--yesss) and as soon as I told my helper that I was fine, I broke down. After my exhibition round of tears, I went to eat. It sucked. Fresh hot pizza sucked. I sucked. Bananas sucked. My feet sucked. Feeling down, I got in a long line for a massage. While I was waiting I heard a guy asked why it was taking so long. Someone in charge replied that they were losing therapists left and right. This bummed me out, so I looked at my watch to see how long I had to pick up my bike. My watch said 11:45 (transition closed at midnight). Of course, I hadn’t changed my watch from Houston time, but I was too tired to remember that. With more than 2 hours to do so, I rushed off to get my stuff out of transition, then called Craig. And cried. A lot. I felt so pitiful and helpless and alone... I had no interest in talking about how well I’d done. I just cried. After that, I picked myself up, got to my rental car, and took my bike apart (crying of course). Then I drove to my hotel and viewed the damage: severe chafing in every place you can’t talk about with strangers (armpits, chest, crotch, inner thighs, neck), sunburn just about everywhere, and minor sun poisoning on my thighs. 2 teensy blisters on my feet (I love Mizuno running shoes!) and 3 toes that were numb. Oh, and I was a little sore. :-) Satisfied that I wasn't going to die in the night, I went to bed but I slept really poorly.
I think it’s funny how your body comes to a point where it needs sleep so badly but can’t get it. Maybe next time I’ll take some sleeping pills (or at least Tylenol PM, the greatest medicine ever).
Oh! It was hot during the race, but I didn't think it was too bad (I think the high was 88 or 90). I feel like a bad person for saying this since so many had trouble with the heat: 11.2% of the field didn't finish, and that's a LOT of folks. Maybe hot weather really is growing on me!
Monday I hit up the awards ceremony and then headed north to Tonto State Park. I was determined to see something nature-y while I was there, and I’m glad I did. I had a good time and would love to explore more when I’m in town next... hopefully next year for IM AZ 2007, but the rumor mill says they’re moving the race to November or October. Eff that, man. I’m only doing it if it’s a spring race. If that is the case, maybe 2007 is the time for Ironman New Zealand? Time will tell.
So that was the race. I was fully un-sore by Wednesday and un-stiff by Thursday, some unreal healing if you ask me. However, I’m still very tired; I am getting a lot of sleep and it’s still not enough. I’m anxious to get back into the swing of things so I can work on my cycling game; Ironman Wisconsin is in less than 5 months! I am still reeling from achieving all my goals--where do I go from here? The Wisconsin course is considerably hillier than Arizona, so I can’t be too ambitious with time goals. I’m going to have to see how my training pans out, but I want to at least maintain the same (modest) bike pace I kept on this course. Ideally I’d also continue with my running progress and hold 10:50 pace (which is a 4:44 marathon). The running goal should be easier for me than the bike one now that I’ve seen how my quality long runs and speed workouts are paying off... I LIKE putting in the time on foot. Now I just need to get my ass in that saddle--
Thanks for reading! And if you want to see some pictures, take a look here:
http://www.asiorders.com/view_user_event.asp?EVENTID=10039&BIB=886
So anyway, allow me to give a painfully detailed account of how I raced this weekend (since that’s probably more interesting than the logistics of carrying many heavy bags by myself). I rocked. Either I don’t make difficult enough goals, I am better than I think I am, or I just competed like a champ, but I shattered every goal I had except one. Here are my splits:
1:06:12 swim (6:48 faster than goal)
6:28 T1 (00:32 faster than goal)
7:25:06 (14:54 faster than goal)
9:04 T2 (2:04 SLOWER than goal... I had some sunscreen/sunglasses/hair tie troubles. I’m over it now.)
4:52:30 run (7:30 faster than goal)
TOTAL: 13:39:18--27:42 faster than my highest expectations, 58:42 faster than goal
Even though you’re not supposed to compare ironman times from different courses, that time sure looks a lot better than 15:58, doesn’t it? I also got some hardware by placing 5th in my age group (plaque, fancy socks, and a gel flask!). Before you think my expanding head is floating to the stratosphere, I know my time isn’t that impressive in the super scheme of things... I wouldn’t have made it to the podium with my time unless I was under 25 or over 50 years old. Of course, I won’t really care about that until next year when I age up. Right now, I’m very proud of myself, if only because of my significant improvement.
Now I’ll give the play-by-play.
The swim
The swim is a wade start, which means you have to float around near the start line for 10-15 mins and hope you don’t lose circulation in your feet. That kind of sucked, but it still beat a beach start. I thought a good plan would be to start at the front of the line and the middle of the pack--taking the inside of the loop would probably mean getting a black eye. I figured on the way back in the crowd would have thinned and I could take the inside. Well, the way out was great; I only got kicked in the face once and didn’t kick anyone myself. I took the turn close to the buoys and headed inside for the way home. Everything went according to plan--the crowd had thinned, and I was going to minimize my trip back to transition and be a hero. The only problem was that since I wasn’t swimming with a group of people, I didn’t have anyone to sight for me (sighting is sticking your head out of the water to see where the heck you’re going). My lazy ass figured I could just swim near someone and be fine. Unfortunately, I can’t swim straight and I ended up zigzagging like it was my job; I added at least 2-3 mins to my swim time in just the last ½ mile. I didn’t have any expectations once I hit the ground to have my wetsuit removed, and that lack of expectation was fulfilled--the time read 1:21. “Wow I am SLOW” I thought as I glanced at my watch (which read 1:06). I realized the clock had started with the pros and was 15 minutes longer than my real time. Boy was I elated! I’d taken the swim easy and still beaten my goal!
T1
My first transition: swell. In retrospect, it’s very sad that I didn’t get any sunscreen on my back or legs, as they’d end up very burnt (and a nice rash on my legs, which do not care much for the sun). A bummer, but a minor one.
The bike
I felt really great hitting the first loop of the bike. The wind was at my back on the way out, which happens to be all slightly uphill. At the turnaround I even went to the bathroom, something I’d never done in a race (usually I like to pretend I’m a pro and stay right on the edge of my hydration requirements). What a proud moment! :-) I finished lap 1 well under goal pace and my legs still felt fresh. Then my ass started to hurt. I hate my bike seat with a burning, bruised, chafed passion, and that’s sad since my seat is *new*. I’d like to kick the guy at Cyclone Cycles on the foot for selling it to me. It blows. But I digress... lap 2 the wind started picking up, making the trip home pretty rough. In this lap I stopped to loosen my shoe; a volunteer had put it on for me (too tight) and my foot was numb. I was still sitting pretty (well, not literally) into lap 3, where I also stopped for some lame reason again at the halfway point (“get more salt tablets”). These stops added 5-6 mins to my time, but did a lot to clear my head. I hopped off the bike ahead of schedule and headed to T2 surrounded by cheers from the crowd.
T2
Transition 2 wasn’t my best. I had stopped drinking (why??? I’m so dumb in the heat) on the second half of the bike and my brain decided to take a union break. I scrambled for my clothes and finally made it out the sunscreen put’er-on’ers. The volunteer sprayed my freaknasty chafed/burned neck, and I thought I was going to die from the sting. I didn’t. Unfortunately, my legs were again forgotten in the shuffle and continued to crisp in the Arizona sun. Sad, huh?
The run
Despite my skin injuries, I felt good. GREAT. I felt great starting the run in Florida too; I just love getting off that stinkybutt bike. My first mile was 10:20 and I’d walked the water stop. This was considerably faster than my 11:30/mile goal pace, so I was afraid it wouldn’t last. Still, I had plenty of time to add before I had to worry about missing my goal splits. I decided then that this race was my bitch. I mostly held my pace for the next few miles until I ran into Troy, a 44 year old accountant from Maryland, who was on his second lap. We ran and chatted for about 6 or 7 miles at about 10:15 pace. The fast pace and my lack of fluid intake started to get to me, so I wished him well as he slowly got away from me. I started to have Nasty Stomach, a common ailment for endurance folks. I decided it was all in my head and I needed to assure my stomach that it was imperative that it continue to do its job. The organ talk worked, and soon I was feeling okay again. Night fell (finally!) and then Crazy started setting in. Yes, if it’s not one thing it’s another with me! Every water stop and every time I crossed a timing mat, I wanted to cry, and I can’t exactly say why. I was hoping someone at home was following my race online, and just the thought of someone hitting refresh and cheering my progress made me choke up. This always brings on an asthma attack a few mins after the tears, so I decided that if I wanted to finish in my new goal time of 13:45 (so that even with the 15 mins added from the pro start I’d be under 14 on the clock) I’d simply have to dissociate. I pretended that I was not running the race, and the pain that I observed was not mine; therefore, I could press on, pick up my pace, and worry about achieving my goal splits. After mile 17 I promised myself I could cry a few minutes after I finished, but until then I had a goal and no excuses to make for missing 13:45. I had to deliver. Yes folks, the best way to fight Crazy is with more Crazy. The race was again mine; my game worked and 1 minute after finishing, I burst into tears, but ahead of schedule.
So yeah, I finished (sans asthma attack--yesss) and as soon as I told my helper that I was fine, I broke down. After my exhibition round of tears, I went to eat. It sucked. Fresh hot pizza sucked. I sucked. Bananas sucked. My feet sucked. Feeling down, I got in a long line for a massage. While I was waiting I heard a guy asked why it was taking so long. Someone in charge replied that they were losing therapists left and right. This bummed me out, so I looked at my watch to see how long I had to pick up my bike. My watch said 11:45 (transition closed at midnight). Of course, I hadn’t changed my watch from Houston time, but I was too tired to remember that. With more than 2 hours to do so, I rushed off to get my stuff out of transition, then called Craig. And cried. A lot. I felt so pitiful and helpless and alone... I had no interest in talking about how well I’d done. I just cried. After that, I picked myself up, got to my rental car, and took my bike apart (crying of course). Then I drove to my hotel and viewed the damage: severe chafing in every place you can’t talk about with strangers (armpits, chest, crotch, inner thighs, neck), sunburn just about everywhere, and minor sun poisoning on my thighs. 2 teensy blisters on my feet (I love Mizuno running shoes!) and 3 toes that were numb. Oh, and I was a little sore. :-) Satisfied that I wasn't going to die in the night, I went to bed but I slept really poorly.
I think it’s funny how your body comes to a point where it needs sleep so badly but can’t get it. Maybe next time I’ll take some sleeping pills (or at least Tylenol PM, the greatest medicine ever).
Oh! It was hot during the race, but I didn't think it was too bad (I think the high was 88 or 90). I feel like a bad person for saying this since so many had trouble with the heat: 11.2% of the field didn't finish, and that's a LOT of folks. Maybe hot weather really is growing on me!
Monday I hit up the awards ceremony and then headed north to Tonto State Park. I was determined to see something nature-y while I was there, and I’m glad I did. I had a good time and would love to explore more when I’m in town next... hopefully next year for IM AZ 2007, but the rumor mill says they’re moving the race to November or October. Eff that, man. I’m only doing it if it’s a spring race. If that is the case, maybe 2007 is the time for Ironman New Zealand? Time will tell.
So that was the race. I was fully un-sore by Wednesday and un-stiff by Thursday, some unreal healing if you ask me. However, I’m still very tired; I am getting a lot of sleep and it’s still not enough. I’m anxious to get back into the swing of things so I can work on my cycling game; Ironman Wisconsin is in less than 5 months! I am still reeling from achieving all my goals--where do I go from here? The Wisconsin course is considerably hillier than Arizona, so I can’t be too ambitious with time goals. I’m going to have to see how my training pans out, but I want to at least maintain the same (modest) bike pace I kept on this course. Ideally I’d also continue with my running progress and hold 10:50 pace (which is a 4:44 marathon). The running goal should be easier for me than the bike one now that I’ve seen how my quality long runs and speed workouts are paying off... I LIKE putting in the time on foot. Now I just need to get my ass in that saddle--
Thanks for reading! And if you want to see some pictures, take a look here:
http://www.asiorders.com/view_user_event.asp?EVENTID=10039&BIB=886
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
I WANT to wet my pants
… but I’ll hold off for now. This is quite possibly my most exciting week in recent history. I leave for Tempe on Friday to race in my second Ironman (my first branded one). The weather forecast is as close as Arizona can get to Texas—a high of 86, no rain, and a merciful 21% humidity. Assuming I don’t evaporate into the desert, I should be able to handle the heat with strength and grace. I have racing wheels. I trained about twice as hard as I did for my last IM (and have marginal weight loss to show for it). To say the least, I’m excited! I’m so very stoked!
If you want to sneak a peek at my progress, you can look on ironmanlive.com. They provide full coverage (even for the slow people like me!)--just type in my sweet sweet name or my number (886 for life, baby!) and point and laugh. If you get FSN Arizona there’s a highlight show on Sunday at 10PM. Since I may not even be finished yet, don’t look for me there.
My last IM was just under 16 hours, and I’m hoping to keep my head in the game and really improve my time this go-round. Wanna know my goals? Well, tough. I’m afraid I won’t make them and therefore don’t want to share. But I suppose there’s no harm…
1) Finish. Short of near-death experience or complete bike failure, I will see
this through.
2) Beat my last time of 15:58:43. Because come on, I could kick October Mishele’s ass.
3) Finish under 14:30. Fourteen hours has such a nice ring to it.
4) Run a 5:00 marathon. This is 11:27 min miles, way slower than my training pace, slow training pace, or super slow training pace. Seeing as I’ve run marathons without even training and come in around 4:30, I can do this with some focus.
5) Goal splits: 1:13 swim, 7:40 bike, and 5:00 run (with 7 min transitions… slow and attainable changing time)—total 14:07.
During a bickering point this spring I told my boyfriend not to go to the race. It seemed like a good idea at the time because he’d surely distract and annoy me: not because he’s distracting and annoying, but because traveling and stress make me just about as unpleasant to him as possible. I figured I’d spare him the heartache and me the additional stress—but still, I’m sad. I don’t want to be there all alone. College buddy George will be competing as well, so at least I’ll know someone. I'm pretty excited to see George; he's the hardest-training triathlete I know, and he's a cool guy to boot.
In other triathlon news (is there other news?), I got an email yesterday from the Snickers Marathon Team. Anyone who’s been down the Bar Aisle at the grocery store knows that Snickers offers some lines of energy bars called Marathon bars (They have energy and low carb and protein ones... something for everyone). Anyway, they have a team of age-grouper athletes--like me--that they sponsor. I applied to join the team with the reasonable expectation of a consolation prize (box of Marathon Energy bars, please? Any flavor will do). But imagine my surprise when I got the team acceptance email! I’m so stoked! The thing that makes all of this better is I really like the Snickers Marathon bars--I don’t even have to fake it! Yessssss. I’m officially a sponsored athlete. In case you're wondering, I don't know how many people make the "Team," so it's entirely possible I'm extremely special or extremely non-special. At any rate, I now have yet another reason to train hard. Ooh, I hope my picture ends up on their website... then I’d be a celebrity. Wouldn't that be so cool?
I’m off again. I am so excited I can hardly sit still! Look for an update next week. :-D
If you want to sneak a peek at my progress, you can look on ironmanlive.com. They provide full coverage (even for the slow people like me!)--just type in my sweet sweet name or my number (886 for life, baby!) and point and laugh. If you get FSN Arizona there’s a highlight show on Sunday at 10PM. Since I may not even be finished yet, don’t look for me there.
My last IM was just under 16 hours, and I’m hoping to keep my head in the game and really improve my time this go-round. Wanna know my goals? Well, tough. I’m afraid I won’t make them and therefore don’t want to share. But I suppose there’s no harm…
1) Finish. Short of near-death experience or complete bike failure, I will see
this through.
2) Beat my last time of 15:58:43. Because come on, I could kick October Mishele’s ass.
3) Finish under 14:30. Fourteen hours has such a nice ring to it.
4) Run a 5:00 marathon. This is 11:27 min miles, way slower than my training pace, slow training pace, or super slow training pace. Seeing as I’ve run marathons without even training and come in around 4:30, I can do this with some focus.
5) Goal splits: 1:13 swim, 7:40 bike, and 5:00 run (with 7 min transitions… slow and attainable changing time)—total 14:07.
During a bickering point this spring I told my boyfriend not to go to the race. It seemed like a good idea at the time because he’d surely distract and annoy me: not because he’s distracting and annoying, but because traveling and stress make me just about as unpleasant to him as possible. I figured I’d spare him the heartache and me the additional stress—but still, I’m sad. I don’t want to be there all alone. College buddy George will be competing as well, so at least I’ll know someone. I'm pretty excited to see George; he's the hardest-training triathlete I know, and he's a cool guy to boot.
In other triathlon news (is there other news?), I got an email yesterday from the Snickers Marathon Team. Anyone who’s been down the Bar Aisle at the grocery store knows that Snickers offers some lines of energy bars called Marathon bars (They have energy and low carb and protein ones... something for everyone). Anyway, they have a team of age-grouper athletes--like me--that they sponsor. I applied to join the team with the reasonable expectation of a consolation prize (box of Marathon Energy bars, please? Any flavor will do). But imagine my surprise when I got the team acceptance email! I’m so stoked! The thing that makes all of this better is I really like the Snickers Marathon bars--I don’t even have to fake it! Yessssss. I’m officially a sponsored athlete. In case you're wondering, I don't know how many people make the "Team," so it's entirely possible I'm extremely special or extremely non-special. At any rate, I now have yet another reason to train hard. Ooh, I hope my picture ends up on their website... then I’d be a celebrity. Wouldn't that be so cool?
I’m off again. I am so excited I can hardly sit still! Look for an update next week. :-D
Friday, March 03, 2006
Intervals!
My favorite part of triathlon training is speed running workouts (my least fave? Long bike rides. Is there a comfy seat in all of bikedom? My ass and my experience tell me no). Since moving to Houston and getting through my hardest training ever, I've been really great at getting in a good interval workout a week.
Intervals workouts are basically doing shorter distances at a fast pace--over and over. I think the purpose is to get your leg speed up, get your body used to going fast, and to learn to control your pace. I love intervals. I LOVE intervals. For example, my ideal Valentines Day happened this year and included a tough interval workout--then pizza and Law & Order. Anyway, I am a pretty consistent runner once I have my pace (about 1:45 to 2:00 faster than my typical run pace for speedwork). We used to do intervals twice a week when I ran in high school, and I miss the track, the camaraderierie of a team, and running until I felt a little sick... no matter how long you go, distance running will never replicate the greatness of wanting to heave 75% of the way through ½ mile intervals. Oh, sweet nostalgia.
Recently I've been running intervals with my coworkers once a week at a nearby high school track. It's fun to go fast, be on a track, and shoot the breeze between runs. I like it because I usually get to make most of the workouts and pick the pace; I don't know if my friends defer to me because I'm actually in training for something, I seem knowledgeable about speedwork, or they just don't care-- it doesn't matter to me though. I'm pretty easy to please when I get my way. :-) At any rate, I bailed on the group this week so I could run intervals on my own. I was really busy this week since I'm going out of town today, had a fantasy baseball draft last night and a Rockets game the night before that AND I've been trying to get in some extra workouts during the week so I can be out of town with as few workout obligations as possible. In this mess of overscheduling I thought it would be a good idea to go to the Y and do an interval workout at yesterday's lunchtime. After all, it would take less time than the swim I often get in during my lunch break, and that track is 1/6 of a mile-- something different from the normal ¼ mile jobbie.
By the way, this is the worst idea ever. I live in Houston and it's March. Yesterday it was in the low 80s with 70% humidity when I ran. Even so, I had a great--albeit sweaty--workout, maintaining that sweet 7:20 goal pace throughout the various 1/2, 1/3, and 1/6 mile intervals. I also got to stop between intervals instead of walking 100m, which is what my friends usually like to do. I like to just stop... it's hard to hunch over and fight off puking when you're walking a cool 100. Besides, I didn't have time for stuff like that.
Before I knew it, I was finished and quite pleased with my workout. I went up to shower and when I finished, I realized I was still hot and flushed. REALLY flushed. I dressed, left for the office, and headed to the mall to get some lunch before heading upstairs back to work. At Subway I had a hot flash while waiting to pay. ½ hour later I had another one at my desk. I broke out in a sweat at my boss's cube shortly after that, and sweat all the way through my coolmax shirt while spinning after work (usually I just sweat through 1/2 of it). I was perspiring through my fantasy draft and when I got into bed last night. I woke up sweaty this morning. I was sweaty getting ready for work, going to work, sitting at work, running an errand, eating my breakfast. Finally, I completely cooled off about 11:00 AM today, 23 hours after I finished intervals. How foul is that? I am officially the grossest person alive.
On a positive note, I got some more sun during my run. Today a co-worker commented on how tan I am, and that made me pretty happy. These lunchtime workouts are the best because they break up my day, allow me to get 2 workouts in without having to get up before my normal 6:00 wake-up, and I get some sweet Texas sun. They also happen to be super high quality, an even better perk than the sun. Perhaps in the future I should just stick to the pool though...
Intervals workouts are basically doing shorter distances at a fast pace--over and over. I think the purpose is to get your leg speed up, get your body used to going fast, and to learn to control your pace. I love intervals. I LOVE intervals. For example, my ideal Valentines Day happened this year and included a tough interval workout--then pizza and Law & Order. Anyway, I am a pretty consistent runner once I have my pace (about 1:45 to 2:00 faster than my typical run pace for speedwork). We used to do intervals twice a week when I ran in high school, and I miss the track, the camaraderierie of a team, and running until I felt a little sick... no matter how long you go, distance running will never replicate the greatness of wanting to heave 75% of the way through ½ mile intervals. Oh, sweet nostalgia.
Recently I've been running intervals with my coworkers once a week at a nearby high school track. It's fun to go fast, be on a track, and shoot the breeze between runs. I like it because I usually get to make most of the workouts and pick the pace; I don't know if my friends defer to me because I'm actually in training for something, I seem knowledgeable about speedwork, or they just don't care-- it doesn't matter to me though. I'm pretty easy to please when I get my way. :-) At any rate, I bailed on the group this week so I could run intervals on my own. I was really busy this week since I'm going out of town today, had a fantasy baseball draft last night and a Rockets game the night before that AND I've been trying to get in some extra workouts during the week so I can be out of town with as few workout obligations as possible. In this mess of overscheduling I thought it would be a good idea to go to the Y and do an interval workout at yesterday's lunchtime. After all, it would take less time than the swim I often get in during my lunch break, and that track is 1/6 of a mile-- something different from the normal ¼ mile jobbie.
By the way, this is the worst idea ever. I live in Houston and it's March. Yesterday it was in the low 80s with 70% humidity when I ran. Even so, I had a great--albeit sweaty--workout, maintaining that sweet 7:20 goal pace throughout the various 1/2, 1/3, and 1/6 mile intervals. I also got to stop between intervals instead of walking 100m, which is what my friends usually like to do. I like to just stop... it's hard to hunch over and fight off puking when you're walking a cool 100. Besides, I didn't have time for stuff like that.
Before I knew it, I was finished and quite pleased with my workout. I went up to shower and when I finished, I realized I was still hot and flushed. REALLY flushed. I dressed, left for the office, and headed to the mall to get some lunch before heading upstairs back to work. At Subway I had a hot flash while waiting to pay. ½ hour later I had another one at my desk. I broke out in a sweat at my boss's cube shortly after that, and sweat all the way through my coolmax shirt while spinning after work (usually I just sweat through 1/2 of it). I was perspiring through my fantasy draft and when I got into bed last night. I woke up sweaty this morning. I was sweaty getting ready for work, going to work, sitting at work, running an errand, eating my breakfast. Finally, I completely cooled off about 11:00 AM today, 23 hours after I finished intervals. How foul is that? I am officially the grossest person alive.
On a positive note, I got some more sun during my run. Today a co-worker commented on how tan I am, and that made me pretty happy. These lunchtime workouts are the best because they break up my day, allow me to get 2 workouts in without having to get up before my normal 6:00 wake-up, and I get some sweet Texas sun. They also happen to be super high quality, an even better perk than the sun. Perhaps in the future I should just stick to the pool though...
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Okay, I'm torn
So this one time I did an ironman. It was pretty cool. I had an okay swim, didn’t go too slow on the bike, and met some great friends on the crappy-ass run (yeah thanks Great Floridian for abandoning your water stations with 3+ hours left of the race. I loved drinking from dirty cups I found on the ground. In the dark.) Despite the lack of hydration supply on the bike/run, I did better than I thought I would, especially considering all the trouble I have with training on the bike. My longest training ride was 40 of the flattest miles Ohio had to offer. Needless to say, I wasn’t feeling so swell on the series of monstrous hills on the course (in central Florida? Yeah, I was surprised too). Still, I made it. Go me.
Later I would be ashamed of my slow time (15:58:something. I didn’t care at the time since it was under 16 hours) and of being the slowest/2nd slowest? biker that finished. But on that night, I was an ironman. 140.6 miles traversed by my own power, and under 16 or under 60 hours, that’s a cool thing. I was hooked, and in more ways than one; 2006 would hold my first Ironman Arizona and Ironman Wisconsin races.
Of course, it would be cooler if I were faster. I decided that I’d take some spinning classes and actually use my computrainer for the next race. Oh, and maybe I’d ride more than 1/3 of the race distance in my training. And I wouldn’t walk on the run course when I was feeling good, which I did in my first race (easy to do when there’s a festive atmosphere among the participants). I also started running outside rather than treadmilling it up-- I run over a minute per mile faster on the open road. These are pretty easy ways to drop a potentially significant amount of time. I was excited. Heck, I am excited. I can’t think of anything more than April 9th and what it will hold for me. I’m in the game. I’m ready coach. My first trademarked Ironman. It’ll be bigger, it’ll be badder, it’ll be harder.
I can’t think about anything but IM Arizona. Have I mentioned I’m excited about the race? Not unrelated to this excitement is this is the first race to which I have committed more than 6 serious weeks of training. Oh yeah, I’m giving this baby 10 ½ hard and fast weeks. I’m reading the tri books I bought a year ago. I’m still psycho vigilant about getting in my veggies, fruits, water (though the tire around my waist is proof that I have a problem with eating yummy/fattening dinners). I’m running without music for crying out loud! Pizza eating aside, what more could the universe ask of me? When I started reading ironman triathlete’s blogs, I realized there was much more.
There are some really serious amateur athletes out there. I mean like serious. When I started reading their blogs, I thought, “Okay, this is weird. You have no perspective and are just age-groupers. What gives?” I thought about my triathlete friend (aka HERO) George, who regularly inspires, supports, and educates me. I thought that the whole “fitness for life” motivation for training was something we shared, even though he trains much more than I do. I know he has a pseudo life because when I visit St. Louis, he’s there having a life. I chalk the difference in our training schedule to his being able to bring a greater focus to his training AND his having a real chance at qualifying for Hawaii, whereas my chance is imaginary. George is dedicated, but not crazy.
I train about 12-18 hrs/week. I am still slow on my bike, but I’m trying. I take a day off a week (or two when I’m too tired to go to Frank and his masochistic spinning class Friday nights. Oh Frank, you torment me with your intense intervals and your seated climbs… and I love it). I only swim 3 hrs a week because I don’t have to do more than that to stay in the front-middle of the pack come race day. (Yes! those 10 years of competitive swimming are finally paying off.) I’m trying to balance work, boyfriend (who’s unreasonably supportive by the way), LSAT studying, sleep, and the semblance of a social life with training. It’s hard, but it's the balance of things that I want. I’m doing the best that I can, especially because next year I won’t have any life (or heavy training) when I’m working full time and going to law school at night. I have obligations outside of swimbikerun. That’s normal, and I know that. So why do I feel so guilty about not being completely immersed in a sport I genuinely love?
I can't make up my mind about the IM minded. I'm definitely in awe of their dedication. I'm envious of their bodies and performances, but recognize those come with the extra time I won't give. But I don't like feeling as if I don't deserve to be on the same course as them come race day. I met amazing athletes at my first half ironman--my first triathlon!-- and they gave me race tips at the pasta dinner, encouraged me at turnarounds, and cheered at my finish. What happened between 70.3 and 140.6? Is it them or me?
Later I would be ashamed of my slow time (15:58:something. I didn’t care at the time since it was under 16 hours) and of being the slowest/2nd slowest? biker that finished. But on that night, I was an ironman. 140.6 miles traversed by my own power, and under 16 or under 60 hours, that’s a cool thing. I was hooked, and in more ways than one; 2006 would hold my first Ironman Arizona and Ironman Wisconsin races.
Of course, it would be cooler if I were faster. I decided that I’d take some spinning classes and actually use my computrainer for the next race. Oh, and maybe I’d ride more than 1/3 of the race distance in my training. And I wouldn’t walk on the run course when I was feeling good, which I did in my first race (easy to do when there’s a festive atmosphere among the participants). I also started running outside rather than treadmilling it up-- I run over a minute per mile faster on the open road. These are pretty easy ways to drop a potentially significant amount of time. I was excited. Heck, I am excited. I can’t think of anything more than April 9th and what it will hold for me. I’m in the game. I’m ready coach. My first trademarked Ironman. It’ll be bigger, it’ll be badder, it’ll be harder.
I can’t think about anything but IM Arizona. Have I mentioned I’m excited about the race? Not unrelated to this excitement is this is the first race to which I have committed more than 6 serious weeks of training. Oh yeah, I’m giving this baby 10 ½ hard and fast weeks. I’m reading the tri books I bought a year ago. I’m still psycho vigilant about getting in my veggies, fruits, water (though the tire around my waist is proof that I have a problem with eating yummy/fattening dinners). I’m running without music for crying out loud! Pizza eating aside, what more could the universe ask of me? When I started reading ironman triathlete’s blogs, I realized there was much more.
There are some really serious amateur athletes out there. I mean like serious. When I started reading their blogs, I thought, “Okay, this is weird. You have no perspective and are just age-groupers. What gives?” I thought about my triathlete friend (aka HERO) George, who regularly inspires, supports, and educates me. I thought that the whole “fitness for life” motivation for training was something we shared, even though he trains much more than I do. I know he has a pseudo life because when I visit St. Louis, he’s there having a life. I chalk the difference in our training schedule to his being able to bring a greater focus to his training AND his having a real chance at qualifying for Hawaii, whereas my chance is imaginary. George is dedicated, but not crazy.
I train about 12-18 hrs/week. I am still slow on my bike, but I’m trying. I take a day off a week (or two when I’m too tired to go to Frank and his masochistic spinning class Friday nights. Oh Frank, you torment me with your intense intervals and your seated climbs… and I love it). I only swim 3 hrs a week because I don’t have to do more than that to stay in the front-middle of the pack come race day. (Yes! those 10 years of competitive swimming are finally paying off.) I’m trying to balance work, boyfriend (who’s unreasonably supportive by the way), LSAT studying, sleep, and the semblance of a social life with training. It’s hard, but it's the balance of things that I want. I’m doing the best that I can, especially because next year I won’t have any life (or heavy training) when I’m working full time and going to law school at night. I have obligations outside of swimbikerun. That’s normal, and I know that. So why do I feel so guilty about not being completely immersed in a sport I genuinely love?
I can't make up my mind about the IM minded. I'm definitely in awe of their dedication. I'm envious of their bodies and performances, but recognize those come with the extra time I won't give. But I don't like feeling as if I don't deserve to be on the same course as them come race day. I met amazing athletes at my first half ironman--my first triathlon!-- and they gave me race tips at the pasta dinner, encouraged me at turnarounds, and cheered at my finish. What happened between 70.3 and 140.6? Is it them or me?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
