5 months from today

I'll be sweating out my latest and greatest Ironman. It'll be my 5th. I should have this whole "training for an Ironman/kind of a badass" routinedown by now, but this time I'm legitimately nervous. I haven't completed an Ironman-- nay, a triathlon-- since I began law school in 2007. I have the bar exam (Job 1, as those who like to use awkward phrases might say) in seven weeks. I'm overweight, an overstuffed sausage version of my old Iron self. And worse yet, I'm embarrassingly out of shape. I know that once I get to the starting line I can handle whatever race day offers; I am nothing if I'm not tough. But this time, whether I arrive to race is a larger question mark than I'm used to.

Sounds like a good time to start blogging, right? I could use some help or support, and I miss Houston and my tri community something awful. I'll never understand why I miss a place that was never meant to be home-- I daresay it's the people I left behind there. But I digress.

Today I went on my first run in 6 weeks, and it was ugly. About 2 minutes in my chest tightened, and I wanted to turn back. I look ridiculous, I thought. Fatties shouldn't run in public. People are you going laugh at you as you waddle by. But no one laughed, of course, and a few more minutes in I relaxed and enjoyed a nice (though slow) jog along the lakefront. In two weeks I'll be able to handle anything without that fear of physical discomfort (or is it failure?) rising up; right now it's just a question of getting there.

And with that, let me explain my plan. I am going to study for and pass the bar. I am going to take the next 22 weeks and get my ass into shape. I'm going to fundraise for my Janus Charity Challenge beneficiary and my old volunteer gig, the Greater New Haven Cat Project (before that, I'm going to finish building my fundraising site). I'm going to lose the 8 pounds that kept me from winning my Law School Bet (weight in = weight out --> new bike). I am also going to blog about it-- and in that order. Some things I want to accomplish in a less formal sense (more of guidelines I suppose?) include trying to curse less and not describing my training as a journey, an epic metamorphosis, or anything else ridiculous for the daily life of a normal human.

Now, about the blog. I've been here before, but dropped off the face of the planet when I started school and struggled with life, though I suppose not triathloning anymore didn't help, either. But now that I'm back, I'm not sure I'm going to stay... let's see how this trip goes before extending it, eh? I will warn you that unless you email me at my ever classy hotengineergirl at yahoo email by July 15th, you'll find my page blocked from your curious eyes. On July 16th, I'll be switching to a invite-only blog to prevent my getting any stalkers. So, let me know if you want to join. I'll post a reminder closer to the date, of course-- no need to worry about doing it this second (unless you want to).

Alrighty. I'm back to bar study (yea.). Catch you in a few days once I pick out a gym to get back in the pool!

Ironman 2009?

I think I have time for one last hurrah in 2009 before I rejoin the workforce the next year. Because I'm limited to late summer races, I really only have one choice left: Lake Placid. And since I expect the online registration to all but disappear this year, I'm helping out on race day and getting in line to register in person the next morning--exactly like Dying Water Buffalo last year. I'm really just following her around, one year late.

I signed up to volunteer, and I won't be getting the posh spots in transition and at the finish line that I got at Wisconsin. Nevertheless, it shall be awesome. I'm stoked.

I was also thinking about camping instead of getting a hotel room since I just bought a sweet new tent and am looking for excuses to use it. Does anyone have any experience with Lake Placid? Camping is a thing to do there, right? I figured if I don't have to worry about all the things that real athletes have to worry about like sleeping well or preparing enormous amounts of gear for the race, I could take advantage of the amazing locale. But, I don't know if this is realistic. Let me know if you have any feedback.

Where is everyone else going in 2009?

Moving to Chicago

And as much as I love the band, I don't mean I'm dancing to "Look Away." I'm heading to Chicago for a summer of associateness and Ironman training.
The good: world, eat your heart out as I open water swim every day (in theory) without the fear of being eaten by a jellyfish-shark.
The bad: I think that Chicago doesn't make hills, and rumor has it that Louisville is full of 'em. I'm also without my Houston tri crowd, which is nothing short of tragic (so I suppose that should have made it to the ugly, huh?).
The ugly: I don't remember how to swim, and perhaps more importantly, I have not secured housing.
Still, I'm stoked. No need to go all negativo on myself, right? It's still March. I mean, April.

Aside from the excitement of moving to a city with public transportation, I'm a little concerned about where I go for triathlon info. Where should I train? What are good warmup races to do? Can I ride in the city or is it off to the 'burbs in the Nissan like in Houston?

I don't know. Do you? Do your friends know? Are there any Chicago trifolk running around The Internets? Can you give me tri relocation advice? I'm all ears!

Whatcha doin tomorrow?

Nothing? Yeah, me neither. So why don't you watch one of Houston's finest drop more time from IM #1 and IM #2 and any IMer in history? Go on. It'll be fun. With a number like 99, how could it be anything less?

Sunshine and butterflies

You know how life and your mood oscillate? My life and mood are currently great. Divine. Superb. I'm enjoying this high as long as I can.

My school break and celebrated return (ha!) have been good for me. My weird acne is gone. My teeth are whitened. My relationships are healthy. My heart can stand it when I run. My apartment isn't infested with roaches. I didn't fail out of my first semester (so far). Life is good.

Today I went on my first longish run. Yesterday I was a stinker and sat around dirtying dishes and watching Law & Order to beef up for a semester of Criminal law, so before I went to bed (early) last night I told myself that Sunday would be no fun: I had to run over six miles if it took all day, and I had to do my reading for the first days of classes. I was mentally preparing to be unprepared mentally.

This morning it took 30 minutes to get up and out for my run, but I did--even though it was in the 20s and flurrying. (I apologize for abusing those around me by wearing tights, but sacrifices had to be made.) I decided to run to Forest Park, around, and back for a 6.5 mile run; I could add bells and whistles to next week's run, but for today the loop had to be conquered. I told myself to chill out and run 11:00 pace if I wanted. I told myself to walk if I got tired. I allowed myself to bring my nano along for the party. All was well.

Two miles in some adorable blonde passed me. I was sad, but people get passed, especially me. Then, 2 miles later, I was a breath away from catching her on a steep, short hill; presumably horrified that such a large spandex-clad butt could catch her, blondie picked up the pace. I did too. By mile 5 we were busting down the trail, running sub-9 minute pace. She cut the course once and got through two lights for which I had to stop, so I never caught her. But when I turned to run home, she turned around with what I think was a look of relief; her pursuer had decided to chase other things, like a shower.

But I'll catch her next time. My slow run ended up being about 5 minutes faster than expected, including stoplight breaks. I'm torn about whether or not I should stop my watch when waiting for lights. On one hand, it's not time during which I'm covering the distance. On the other, the mandatory break may make me faster after the rest. I'm currently not stopping (my watch) for lights, but I think I might switch; what do you guys do?

Feels like the first time

Can a girl get enough Foreigner references in her blog? I think not.

I've swum twice this week, my first dips in the pool since early November. It's a funny thing about swimming-- I find the first trip back for my chlorinated baptism is the best swim I do. I feel light, quick, thin. My stroke is smooth, and instead of focusing on the inefficiencies in my pool, I feel my hips turn, slow and steady, the source of my power. I can see my turns, my streamlines, as the things of imperfect beauty that they are. I can beat 14-year-old girls and 60-year-old boys. More than anything, the pool is my playground in that first swim. This first was even better because it was in 72 degree water. The lifeguard yelled at me when I hopped in, but I couldn't understand anything but "72." It turns out the pool heater was broken, but I didn't mind-- 72, like my first swim backstroke, is perfect.

Of course, the grace only lasts as long as my first swim-- the second swim is laborious and painful as the first run. A modest 2200 left me feeling like I'd gotten booster shots in my delts, and by my next dip I was horrified at my kick, my left elbow position, and my breaststroke pull. By swim #2 I sucked at all things aquatic, but it's okay with me. I don't work to be graceful; I work to be less awkward. Maybe by the time I'm finished, all swims will be as satisfying as the first.

Don't believe me if I say I'm 27

No cyclocross last week... I couldn't unbury myself from schoolwork, which is slightly more important than learning to remain vertical on my bike. Sam assured me that I wouldn't have been the slowest chick there though, so it's definitely something to consider. Of course, not this weekend. Craig's in town!

Perhaps of more interest is that I'm doing my second annual candy-free November. You may remember that last year Craig said that I was addicted to candy, so I took a month off to prove him otherwise. Here it is, 9 days in and I'm just posting about it-- it should give you an idea of how much easier it is to do the second time around. And unlike last year, I'm not substituting candy with 2-4 Toll House kiosk cookies this year (could that be how I got fat last year?). Instead, I'm eating fruit bars and granola bars, with the occasional super-delicious sweet... such as birthday cake.

Perhaps of more interest than that is it's my birthday today. Thanks to USAT I've been telling people all year that I was 26, my USAT age (don't worry, I'm not still bitter... much). My gut reaction is to say I turn 27 today. This may be cute now, but it won't be in three years. I've been robbed of my perkiest-sounding age of 25! You might as well just start calling me a hag now.

I am totally stealing a birthday idea from TriBoomer and am taking up the ol' b-day tri: 1 mile swim, 22 mile bike, 3.2 mile run (the .2 is for the 2 days I have to wait to do it. I'm sure I'll still be filled with birthday spirit on Sunday). I know the distances are a little, um, off, but dammit I can swim a mile in my own tri if I want to. Is it a sad reflection on my life when I can't plop down for a couple hours to work out? Yes. But life is what it is, and quite frankly, this may be my happiest birthday yet. That pool isn't going anywhere.

But I am. Enjoy the day-- I will. :)

Why oh why can't I stay vertical on a bike?

I wish I had pictures for you, but I don't. All I have is a whiny story. So here goes:

Last Sunday I was set to ride with my new friend Sam. (Sam's fast. As a testament to his fastness, Sam did a long run before we met up to ride. I met Sam at George's going away party-- since you asked and all) I haven't really ridden much since moving to St. Louis, which seems wrong because the roads are littered with cyclists. I could easily write a very long post about how the mid-sized midwest kicks the rest of the country's butt, but I'm still trying to convince myself that I don't love St. Louis. I think it may be too late though-- there's a reason I came back, right? Anyway, Sam was gonna show me the ropes of riding in the Lou.

So we set out. From my front door. Our pace was pretty leisurely, which relieved me since I was being characteristically freaked out, worried-I'm-too-slow Mishele. After about 12 miles we turned around to head home, and at 20 miles we stopped at a gas station so Sam could get a snack; apparently it's not fun to do a long run then ride around without having something to eat. So we stop, he eats, we go to get back on the road...

and I fall over. Going 1 mile an hour. I surprisingly ended up with nary a scratch, but I did pick up the nastiest bruise I've had in recent memory in the middle of my thigh. It'd be a pretty picture to add to this post since it's so many pretty colors-- red, brown, magenta, purple, indigo, blue. If I didn't know better I would have thought that when I fell I was really just putting a painful temporary tattoo on myself.

The rest of the ride was fine-- I successfully clipped in and out at every light (no small feat because there are a lot of lights-- I need to offer some defense here), we got home, my pride still hurt, and I buried myself in my books. But as I was heading to bed it occurred to me that my history of first impression is falling over. My first ride ever with Greyhound I tipped over at my car after 70 miles of success. K saw every time the bollards in George Bush Park got the best of me this spring. My first ride on Lucy ended in a fall right in front of the start line of the first crit race at the Picnic Loop. What the heck? Do you have any idea how often I've replaced my freaking bar end tape? (both sides currently need it now but I'm too cheap to buy more.) Why can't I ride like I do all the times I'm alone, all the rides with friends? Some impression I make-- both on my new friends and my body. :-(

Gimme a double straight up

Does anyone know how to train for a double ironman?

Seriously. Anyone? I'm thinking I want to have a go at it. Next year. But I want to use my Louisville training if possible, so if you know anything about whether I can do an Ironman and then do a double 5 weeks later, that'd be great-- please email me!

I'm thinking it's doable; after all, Going Long says if you're going to be a d-bag and do two ultra races in a season, you shouldn't peak twice but rather should train, taper, race, rest, race (I think... I actually think GL's a snoozefest and have been in the first or second chapter for 2+ years). Besides, the double wouldn't be for bragging rights since normal people don't understand the difference between an IM and an IIMM. I just want to do it for me.

Let me know if you've been holding information out on me, okay? Thanks.

P.S. Want to hear how silly I am? Most of the time I could give a rat's hiney if someone beats me. Hey, I'm slow, and I'm genuinely okay with that. Nevertheless, there's a woman here I call StL swimmer chick, and she whooped my ass in the pool 3 weeks ago, in her last swim before her first ironman in Wisconsin. Still, I was (no, I am) 90% sure I could take her if I trained for it, so I got uncharacteristically competitive with her... and then she swam a 1:00 WI swim and finished the whole thing in under 12 hours. Shyeah. I'm an idiot. Well, I did the same thing with a tough cookie named Gina from Longview. She's the youngest to do a double iron and is doing the triple this year, but she's also done Sunmart (which I did... sorta) and IM Arizona. And like swimmer chick, Gina totally kicks my butt-- by like an hour or two in a 50k and by 90 minutes in AZ. Why can't I be competitive with normal people? With friends or enemies? Why complete strangers that are little tri beasts?

Hm, gotta go-- sink is backing up? I swear I'm moving into the Ritz next year.

Okay so maybe Wisconsin doesn't suck

Hmm. That's going a little too far. I will concede that perhaps I hate the entire state because of a general bitter, bitter cold that never left me one Sunday evening last September. But you know what? People there still drive like dips. And the air makes my eyes stay red. And have you heard about their winters? Brr. What's more, have you heard their radio stations?

Those things aside, I take back my general sucky review of the state. Wisconsin is... okay. From April to August. Sometimes it's fine in September like it was this weekend, but I'm not going to go too far in my compliments here. I headed up north on Friday night to see some superstars of the triathlon variety-- I met some of the internet big dogs and watched a true big dog PR in 10:freaking36. I dropped a pro as a catcher. I almost punched someone for making fun of a wayward swimmer, but then vehemently spouted off about how someone who can't swim 1.2 miles in 2.33 hours is a selfish witch and an enormous liability to the entire sport (uh, sorry if it's you... but you are. Pick up duathlons or get a swim coach). I swam on Saturday (woo!). I watched transition clear out of people, clear out of bikes, then fill right back up with them again. I cheered. I handed out bags in transition just so I could see when people were getting in. I accidentally ruined lots of finishers videos because the catcher boss told us to catch people as soon as the pictures were snapped (but if he'd mentioned I'd get on camera I'd have put on some lipstick and some revealing shorts *wink wink*). On more than one occasion I almost teared up, but my lack of soul prevented such emotional outpour. It was a great trip.

But as for the race, I don't have anything to offer... let the real people talk about their races (I'm a robot). I will just say that 1) I was insanely jealous of the perfect water conditions you lucky racing bums and 2) you should volunteer at an ironman because the subs they feed you are DELICIOUS and you get great parking and 3) if you don't like touching strangers, catching at the finish line probably isn't the best choice of volunteer positions. Still, it was an awesome experience and I'll do it again. And now, after seeing it on the other side, I think I can say the same thing about Ironman Wisconsin; I'll do it again. In fact, I'd be doing it again in 2008 if I hadn't already said yes to an iron proposal over Labor Day weekend.

Anyway, I just wanted to say hello. Thanks to everyone for being so nice in person and not saying anything like, "WOW I didn't recognize you because in the two pictures in your blog you look so ridiculous I thought you were photoshopped." That was sweet. It was nice to see the faces behind the laptops, to get a feel for how real and unreal folk are. And to the Ironmen? Wow. Congratulations on crossing the line-- you're a tough bunch. Now get some sleep and enjoy some free time!

Mid 70s? No rain? Is this the same course?!

This isn't a law school post. Why? Because actual law school has kept me busy enough that I don't have time (okay, minor exaggeration... I've had a rough second week of school since I spent hours this week looking at new computers). I suppose it's only interesting to me anyway; law school's been done before. It just happens to be like an academic nirvana for me personally. Maybe later I'll put you to sleep with it, but now I only have time for an Ironman Wisconsin post.

I'm heading out tomorrow to drive up (grr after a Contracts makeup class during freaking happy hour and what should have been my third hour of driving). The forecast? Beautiful. The race cast? Beautiful. I'm so excited to see old faces and meet some new ones, like the elusive Wendy and Brent, both of whom I missed in Arizona. I'm stoked for my volunteer meeting on Saturday. I'm stoked for some wannabe Gatorade swim action (around 9:30 on Saturday-- anyone wanna meet up for a quick dip??). Basically, I'm just so freaking stoked to be watching the drama-- real or melo-- unfold before me. It's gonna be a blast.

The only bad news? I can't stay til the end of the race anymore. I'm only volunteering at the finish line until 8 pm, then am driving home around 9 or so-- whenever my favorite Houston virgin gets that m-dot cherry popped. Call me crazy but the idea of getting up at 4 AM after volunteering til 12:15 AM had me a little nervous about dying on the road and/or missing my 10 AM Torts class. Sorry kids, but school comes first.

Speaking of which, I have to get some stuff done before I head up north. Sleep well and see you on the course or at the finish line!

(Oh, if you want to me up, feel free to email me or use my cell number if you have it. I swear I'll pick it up this weekend!)

Master Plans

Today is my very first day of law school. And what am I doing? Reviewing my reading? Fretting about classes? Nope.

I'm blogging.

The truth is I'm sitting pretty with my work this week and I only have one class today. I'm nervous, and I have hours til class to get progressively more so. Yeesh!

This won't be too long (I actually do want to get some more reading done before this afternoon...) but it is important. I have two plans I want to share in hopes of being more accountable for them in the upcoming year/years. Plan 1: the don't get enormously fat plan. Last winter I beefed up to 12 pounds over my racing weight from Wisconsin and Arizona. I think that's simply revolting from a 24-year-old, and I don't intend to do it again. Here's my plan: leave law school at what you came in (152) and you can have any bike you want, Mishele. I can't be sure of my financial situation of course, but that's not the point (I suppose I don't have to buy it the minute I graduate). The point is to have the permission to get whatever the heck I want.

I told the plan to K first. Her response? "If you're the same girl that's going into law school, you're not going to buy a $6,000 bike." And she's right; I believe you have to earn your toys. So maybe I'll just get a little step up and sell Lucy to a newbie. Maybe I'll buy a decent road bike. Doesn't matter right now does it?

The only problem with the plan is I've lost 4 pounds since I moved here. I don't have as much time to eat as I did when I worked, though I suspect I'll start eating again soon. In the short term I'm chilling out with the workouts and am down to 2 mile runs because I want to take it easy and make time for some physical therapy. My feet just haven't been the same all year and I'm afraid. I'm looking to do a half marathon in January-February and maybe, if all goes well, the St. Louis marathon in March. StL was my first marathon (untrained of course, but that time it was on accident), so I'm hoping to break my time of 4:52 from 2004. If the plan works as well as it should I hope to break it by an hour... we'll see.

And Plan 2:
IM Louisville. Hey you Cincinnatians-- get your hineys down to watch me race. Just once. Please? I signed up and had to pay with my debit card, which was strangely more painful than paying with my credit card. Maybe it was just stressful because I don't know the card number and was worried about some 2-minute sell out craziness like Lake Placid (like Louisville would ever be as cool and popular as Lake Placid). I don't know. Anyway, I'll see you kids back in Ironform on August 31, 2008... hopefully I don't gain 10 pounds of muscle in the meantime. ;-)

Woo hoo! Off to study/learn/be humiliated? :)

The most embarrassing picture in my tri life

And in my real life. I'd rather be running-- nekked, pale, and jiggly-- next to supermodels than have this on the internet. It's so bad I have to acknowledge it first lest someone think I think it's okay to look like this.

Triathlete gets laughed off course, cries for days

Go ahead and laugh. I'm already a step (and a laugh... and a tear) ahead of you.

Race Review: River Cities Tri

River Cities Tri-- Shreveport, LA
800m swim
18 mile bike
3.1 mile run

I have no clever title for you. Sorry.

Anyway, I headed to Shreveport, LA this past weekend for the River Cities Tri, the "oldest tri in the South". Some of you may think an Ironman is tough to get into, but here in the South we take our tris seriously-- this race sold out its 1300 spots in less than three hours this year. This race is so well put on it's crazy: great competition, nice course, reasonable lines, great sales at SportSpectrum at packet pickup, and loads and loads of swag (totally sweet nice bag, New Balance tech t, New Balance running shorts, tech socks, tech hat, t-shirt, sunglasses that actually look cool, poster, bottle of Amino Vital whatevers, gu, amino vital liquid drinky thingy, water bottle, and a water gun). After hearing the H-town ladies rave about it last year, I signed up this year as soon as I woke up on the day registration opened.

Saturday I met up with some of the tri hotties (and a husband) to caravan to the race. The whole trip Lisa was warning us about how long the lines were at packet pickup, saying it could take up to 2 hours to get out of there if the line was really going. We were resigned to waiting since we had nothing better to do, but it turns out this year was different-- we got in line and out within maybe 5 minutes. After checking out the store to cash in on some good deals we packed into the car again and headed to the hotel.

The only crappy thing about this race is the location. From packet pickup to the host hotel was about 30 minutes, and from the hotel to the race site it was another 30 minutes. Not very convenient. On the other hand, the host hotel was reasonably priced and pretty nice, so the drives were tolerable.

Anyway, we checked into the hotel, settled in, went to dinner (which of course took forever) and got to bed around 10, 10:30 on Saturday night. Soon enough it was 5:15 the next morning and we were packing up our things to go; we decided to just use the outdoor showers at the race site to clean up afterward instead of trekking back to the hotel, unloading the bikes, showering, and loading everything up again.

The race site was great. True to the James Bond theme for this year's race, girls with water guns peeked around trees as we entered the park; there was also a gaggle of women in eveningwear and a James Bond in a tux waving hellos to the incoming cars. There was plenty of room to park (and the line to get in was only about 15 minutes, which compared to last year was a marked improvement) with plenty of facilities, and a roomy transition area.

The race started at 8:00, with all the dude waves going first (except Clydesdales and relays). My wave--15-29 women-- was the first of the chick waves at 8:24. I started in the front row and reasonably far out from the inside line of buoys. As we started, I was braced to get beaten up in the hot, murky, black water but again I was pleasantly surprised... my dog fight/swim was nonexistent. No one hit me, no one kicked me, no one ran into me except one girl, and once we realized where the other was, we swam side-by-side to the turn buoy ~300m out. Isn't that amazing?

I was swimming steadily but not too hard. Unfortunately for my wave, the oldest group of men was also swimming steadily and not too hard-- we destroyed the wave ahead of us! Before I even made it to the first turn buoy I was dodging wrinkly slow guys. I swam a straight line throughout the course, but still I had an unbelievably crappy time, and I think the swim/obstacle course is part of the reason. 4 minutes (5? 6? whatever it was) is not enough time between old man wave and young woman wave. I climbed out just over 16 minutes for 800m (wtf?) and hit the timing mat at 16:42. Lame! I expected to come out around 15:00! On the other hand, I still finished in the top 20% of my AG on the swim, so it's possible the course was long.

Transitions were SO long in this place-- maybe 100-120 yds to transition, 80-100 yd long transition area, then another 60-75 yds to the bike mount line. I was glad I didn't leave my shoes on my bike!

The bike was a rolling hill course with only a few short steep(ish) climbs, but a lot of turns. I was hoping to hold 18 mph for this race. Why not the 19 mph goal that I had for all my other sprints? Well, 1) I wasn't making the 19 mph in previous races and haven't been on my bike very much recently, and 2) this was an 18 mile bike course instead of the normal 11-13 mile one. Nothing much to say other than the course was pretty, I refused to get in my small chainring for the hills because I'm a macho MORON, and I lost my chain once. This pissed me off to no end, because I've been losing it a lot this summer (though it stopped for awhile...). I suppose I only lost like 30 seconds, but it felt like the end of the world when I had to stop. I was close to missing my goal at 12 miles, so I picked it up the last 6 and came in 59:something, 18.3 mph pace. A small victory!

Anyway, the bike was fun. I brought along Accelerade again for my aero drink, but this time I also brought a bottle of water since it was supposed to be in the upper 90s and I figured 20 oz of liquid might not be enough. Unlike Webster Du #3 though, I did not get ill on the bike. The Accelerade (Citrus Grapefruit, the hands-down yummiest premixed flavor they have)(by the way, I think this is weird since I think real grapefruit tastes like vomit) does act funny in my body, though-- for some reason I can't burp when I drink it on the bike. Because of this I have to be careful not to drink too quickly, but so long as I feel good I don't really care about that; I could certainly stand to pay attention to my fluid consumption a little more. I also changed my pre-race breakfast from fruit + slim fast + a bottle of Accelerade to clif bar(f) + bottle of Accelerade, but that was only because I forgot to bring my own breakfast and had to bum a bar off someone. And as much as I like hippies and their organic foods, I can't eat clif bars. Will that get me kicked out of triathlon?

I've digressed. Back to the bike. As I pulled into the park for the last fraction of a mile I opted to take one foot out of my shoe to speed up my transition. I only do one foot because I can't take my left hand off the bike. I know, I'm a crappy cyclist with crappy handling skills but I just can't do it, and normally the one-foot trick works quite well. Unfortunately, I only undid the Velcro on my right shoe-- I never actually took my foot out. Once at the dismount line I almost fell over since I had no free foot, and THEN I couldn’t get my dang foot outta my dang shoe. Do I suck at life or what?

Other than that shoe incident T2 was fine. Again, it was a long trek to the run course, and I was expecting to feel bad again as I've been feeling pretty icky on my tri runs recently. The run was a 5k through the park, mostly under shade with a couple gentle rises. The course is set up so you can see the competition around you and I saw all the girls I came with and other Houstonians, always a welcome sight. My goal for this run was to break 30:00 (9:41 pace), and with that in mind I set off. Mile 1 found me at 8:53 (woo!), mile 2 at 8:50 (double woo!) and I finished up in 27:29, 8:51 pace. Not stellar but not too bad either, and way better than I was expecting!

I ended up finishing in 1:46:52 and 23 of 64 in my age group and making all my goals but the one for the swim. Since I came more for the race experience and to hang out with my tri buds one last time, it was good enough for me.

Afterward the group chatted, drank some beers (I had three, beating my goal of two for this race!) and swiped some Ozarka Sport water (that spit is gooood), and then a couple of us took a shower in the outdoor shower near the lake. When one chick and I arrived, the 2 showers had about 8 women, and most were soaping up like we were planning to do rather than just rinsing off. The experience was so weird-- everyone was laughing and sharing bathing supplies and holding the shower lever for other women. I fully expected someone to take off her top and start making out with someone it was so typical-male-daydreamy. Alas, reality was no so colorful. Once we were showered and changed we hit transition to get our, packed up the car, and headed back to the great state o' Texas.

In short-- great race, great company, great swag. You should totally do this race if you ever get the chance. The end!

P.S. You'll notice there are no pictures of these so-called "tri hotties", nor any pictures of my sweet race goodies. Don't hold your breath waiting for them, either; I have no camera since I broke mine in June, and Craig's is in New Jersey with him. I’m afraid you'll have to use your imagination in my blog-- disappointing I’m sure.

The (real) end!

Du it, man: Webster Duathlon #3 Race Review

This was my first duathlon: a 2 mile run, 12 mile flat bike, and a 2 mile run. I won the entry back in February and have been looking forward to this race ever since. I've also been mentally preparing to get my butt handed to me; duathlons aren't as popular as tris, but the folks who do them are way faster. After racing I decided that duathlon folks are simply tougher-- even the sprint du's are not for the faint of heart.

Anyway, Craig came with me to this race. He's not a fan of idiotic tri cheering and I'm not a fan of someone coming along with me who doesn't race, so it was his first non-IM race. I thought he'd like it better because du's are supposed to be different-- most folks don't bring a cheering squad and the races are pretty small. We showed up about an hour before the start, got my packet, put my bike in transition, and just hung out. I thought there seemed to be more people than I'd expected, and there were; this was the biggest du of the series with 160 folks coming out. Crap! How was I supposed to place in my age group if more people showed up?!

After a .5 mile jog warmup and some stretching I headed to the line. Dude in charge told us about the course-- out-and-back run, two loop bike, and out-and-back run-- then just said "go" and started us off. It doesn’t get more low-key than that I guess!

Run 1: My goal was to run 8:30-8:45 miles. Starting out going fast is hard! Swimming is a way easier way to start a race. I was ready to start walking within 3 minutes, but naturally didn't. A few folks passed me on the way out, but for the most part it appeared I started in the right part of the pack. I also saw a few HRTCers (naturally ahead of me), so that was nice. At the turnaround I grabbed some water and went to pass some guy about my age. He refused to let me pass him, so I was forced to run with him the entire mile back to T1. Men-- such jerks! Anyway, I soon forgot him when I got to T1-- I've never been so happy to get on the bike!
Run 1 time: 16:41 (8:21 pace)
Run 1 pic: Do I look happy?

T1: My transitions were more about fashion: T1 was headband to bike helmet, and T2 would be bike helmet to hat. It's important to look your best at every opportunity. Anyway, I grabbed another water and walked to my bike. I was spent after the run and needed a rest. Still, I owned T1 because I switched my pedals (a nice lend from a friend also racing) to cages so I could wear my running shoes the whole time; I was in and out in 0:37. Woo!

The bike: two loops of fun. My goal was again 19 mph pace. On the way out we had a tailwind, and the way back was naturally a headwind. I passed a surprising number of people, so that was cool. I also got passed by a few, maybe about 5-- some who'd passed me on the run and would again pass me on the second run, but whose transitions were slow on account of the shoe issue. Suckers! Anyway, the bike was pretty, you know, bike-like. The only problem was my tummy was bothering me a lot so I couldn't eat or drink anything after about 15 minutes. My stomach has been going haywire recently (it's where I store my stress-- lots of room around there!), so I don't want to blame it on my new Accelerade nutrition plan. Maybe I had too much Accelerade before the race? Perhaps my race breakfast is incompatible with it? Anything is possible. The thing is I've never had Accelerade except for post-workout recovery/hydration until this race; more experimentation is definitely needed. That's about it for the bike except that I kept going back and forth with some stupid 14 year old kid. He was annoying the crap out of me because the first time I passed him he was drafting off his dad. Then 3 minutes later he and his dad completely blew by me-- what the crap? I caught the kid again on the second loop, and near the end he passed me... and then kept looking behind him to see where I was, swerving into the middle of the lane. I was annoyed and didn't want to get passed on the bike by some chump kid, so I surged on the street before T2 to beat him. A note to all you 14 year olds out there: don’t f*ck with me. (See? Edited for children!)
Bike pace: 18.6 mph Better than the week before, especially since I wasn't in cycling shoes/clips. Woo!
Bike pic: Nice pedals newbie!

T2: I took off my helmet and put on a hat. Nice, huh? :) Out in 0:27.

Run 2: My goal was +20 sec of run 1 pace, so 8:50-9:05 pace. Oof! Can I walk this? Of course the second run was worse than the first. I saw Lisa, cage pedal lender, at the half mile point and she told me they had cold towels at the turnaround. Booya! My goal at this point in the race was to come in under 1:15 (I came out of T2 at 56:xx) and pass three people. By the turnaround I'd caught two, but I ran a 9:14 mile. Crap! I had to get going to make my goal! After a towel and yet another water (don't judge-- it's hot here) I busted my hiney as much as I could to get in by 1:14:something, passing a third guy in the process. My last mile was 8:57, enough to get me in at 1:14:41, 1:14:38 watch time. Celebration!
Run 2 time: 18:11 (9:06 pace)
Run 2 pic: I'm about 400m from finishing, so I eeked out a solitary smile. Courageous I know.

Afterward there were breakfast tacos, beer, soda, and bananas-- a decent spread! I could only handle water a banana, and a diet Coke. Craig and I hung around with some club members, waiting for results. Normally, there's one girl in my age group at these races. She runs sub-7 minute miles both times (or close to it) and bikes at 20+ mph. Of course I had no chance of winning my age group while she was breathing, but 2nd of 2 was good enough for me-- that was my plan. Well, we were in for a huge surprise when results were posted: there were 6 girls in my age group. Dammit!

And at the top of that list: MisheleK. I won my age group and there were actually other girls in it! Sweet! I won a pint glass and a 700 tube, which I gave to Lisa (who came in second in her AG) since I ride 650s and her gracious pedals lend shaved some serious time.

I will definitely start doing dus-- I like tough stuff, and I really want to get better at these. The atmosphere is also a little more my style, so that's cool. I realize now that +20 seconds for the second run is very unrealistic; still, I want to get my run 1 time down a little faster. Maybe a longer warmup would help? I'll try that next time. And that nutrition issue I need to get ironed out before my last tri of the year: River Cities next weekend.

One other slightly related thing I've noticed in my past two races-- there are "real" triathletes at sprints, perhaps more real than ironmen. They're the folks who race, year in and year out, train every week, each season. It's not that one IM they've done that defines them because they're more than that after a decade of races and, perhaps more importantly, gallons of post-race beers. They don't get their panties in a twist over tri technology, and they don't buy a new bike every other year. They're there to race, to live the life. I want to be like that. But it's not going long that can do it-- it's local races, olys and sprints and HIMs, ties to a real racing community instead of a faceless racing giant running faraway events. The truth is that it's excruciating to go fast for any length of time-- I think it's harder than going steady for an IM. I want to do more sprints next year, even with Louisville looming, because they test your mettle in ways a day-long race simply cannot. They make you real. Besides, I know I've got the mental hardware to go long-- but can I go hard? I'm starting to wonder. And I'm going to find out.

I had three beers!: Jeff and Brede's Intergalactic Tri Race Review

This is two weeks old. My bad. Anyway, J&B's is a sprint run by my tri club: 300m pool swim, 12 mile flat (and fast?) bike, and a 3 mile run. Last year I volunteered--fun, but I wanted to get in there and give it a go this year. It's a sprint, so the race report should be slim...

The swim-- I seeded myself at around a 4:42. I was nervous because I've all but given up swimming this summer, especially because my last pool swim I caught two people, and I didn't want to be getting caught in this race since it sucketh. I needn't have worried though: apparently everyone lied on their swims because I did a very painful 4:59 (probably a 4:49 if you just include the swim and not climbing out and getting across the mat). No one caught me and I caught no one. Yesss!

And here is the best race pic ever. Oooh, and here's the second best ever. Who takes pictures of people while they're getting out of the pool??

Transition-- sucked because I thought I had to move my stuff to the other side of the rack to avoid a penalty. Everyone knows that you have to have your transition towel on the side of your bike touching the ground. But did you know that you have to have the down side of your bike on the same side as the rack number? Me neither! In fact, I don't think anyone really knew that til the head official said something before the race and after transition was closed. However, he also said it is the passing rider's responsibility to get out of the draft zone, which isn't true once you've overtaken someone; it's the slow guy's job to get behind the fast guy. I hope that official learns the freaking rules before he does another race.

The bike-- an out and back. As soon as I hopped on my bike it started raining. Awesome! It poured the entire time, and I had trouble getting any speed between getting pelted by raindrops and being wary of the puddles in the road. I got passed by my new friend Rick (who won his age group and destroyed me on the swim) and a girl in my age group. More on her later. Anyway, I averaged 18.3 mph, not great but not too bad I guess. I really wanted to get 19 mph, but maybe another time.

T2-- fine. I got socks on this time since the cuts on my feet from my last sockless sprint took about a month to heal-- ow!

The run-- really bleeping hurt. It was my slowest sprint run, which could have been because we ran on "grass" (read: swamp) for about a mile of the course. Not too awesome, especially since I was wearing my new and incredibly heavy shoes. Which were ruined by the end of the day. I ran 8:59 minute miles despite my faithful running speedwork every Tuesday. Crap!

Afterward I hung out with K and her tri man (who also won his age group) and hit the kegs as hard as I could. I got in three whole beers! Never mind it was over almost three hours and well before 11:00 am-- I'm a drinking champion! Eventually the weather also cleared up, but not til long after I finished. I felt bad for all the newbies, who started later in the swim on account of their slower seed times, because they were out in the worst of the weather. What kind of first timer experience is that? Anyway, I came in 4th of 27 in my age group; that girl in my age group that passed me on the bike (I tried in vain to reel her in on the run... no dice) was a really fast and accomplished triathlete, and I have no business racing with her. Still, she only came in 3rd-- could I be moving up the food chain?

Three other things about the post race party: K came up to congratulate me on my 3rd place finish. I thought this was suspect since two girls had passed me on the bike and I started 46th, so chances were good that someone was 25-29 ahead of me. Turns out she read the results wrong and I came in fourth, much like I did to my friend on the 4th of July. What goes around comes around!

I also met Jane at the race. She came up to introduce herself and said she read my blog. I danced around like a schoolgirl who needed to tinkle-- 'cause that's how I roll. Smooth, like butter.

Afterward I went to get my stuff from transition and head home. I noticed that everything I owned was not only already mildewing but smelled like actual crap. Turns out that of all the mud on the course, I managed to find the pile of dog poop to step in. Disgusting.

All in all a great race. And a longer report than intended... sorry!

I'm selling any children I have when they're 12

especially if they're girls. But, I'm willing to buy them back at 17... if there's a discount involved.

Last weekend I was the coordinator for the swim portion of a kids triathlon, and kids from 6 to 13 come out for the race. I have to admit I'm a little afraid of kids because they bite. And poop. And puke. And fall over. But I was at the race in the pool area last year, and no one seemed to make too much of a fuss-- I could handle these kids. My real race concern was starting the kids; it's hard to tell from my obnoxiously dry humor, but I have the weeniest pipsqueaky voice in town-- just think mouse with laryngitis. My voice is actually a main point of conflict with Craig because he can never hear me when I talk on the phone (his phone sucks!!) or in France (must not speak too loud or they'll know we're American and we don't know French!). We may end up divorced because he can't hear me, or he may end up smothered with a pillow because his lack of hearing me is pretty frustrating.

But anyway.

The race went well, and even my itty bitty voice could be heard by the 8 year olds. Everyone listened, (okay, most kids listened. Good enough for me!), and the volunteer mothers commented on how "nice girl" I seemed. Ha! I was just about to say that I liked kids when I came across the 12 year old girls wave.

These were not children before me. They were pre-adolescent witches. Gone were the bright-eyed questions like "Can we hit people?" from the 9 year old boys. Gone were the 7 year olds' tears because the water was too cold. And most sadly, gone were the 10 year olds' requests for someone to swim the course for them. 12 year old girls were different beasts. Let me just say it was a long six minutes before I set them off. I still shudder thinking about it.

That's all. Just wanted to share. I have a newfound respect for myself because I was on time (in Katy by 4:45 thankyouverymuch) and for parents for not eating their young at some point. If your club does one, you should definitely volunteer at a kids race. They're so small and cute-- so long as they're not crying or puking at you.

Just something to think about.

My avatar

Many moons ago the Dread Pirate asked me about my avatar. Bloody shoes? What the heck is wrong with me? While that question may have too detailed an answer for interest, I can explain the nasty pic.

My first tri ever was Outloud's Ironstar half ironman, complete with 59 miles of biking pleasure instead of the standard 56. I told the 2004 version of the race along with the 2006 one from last fall, so I won't get into it again now except to say that I forgot socks-- no dirty socks, no toe socks, no knee highs-- nothing. When I realized this in my hotel the night before the race I opted to do the run without socks instead of driving the .8 miles up the road to a Walmart to get a pair. You know how they say it's better to get 30 minutes less sleep but not be rushed during your race prep? I don't believe that.

So I set up my transition with no socks. At 10 miles into the run a pair of women who kept going back and forth with me (they were running faster than me but walking longer at the aide stations) asked me if I felt okay. Um, yes. That's why I'm even splitting my consistent yet unimpressive 10:50 miles, biatches. Then one pointed to my feet, which were wearing the bloody shoes that hadn't been bloody when I started. I seriously almost puked. See, I knew I was rubbing my feet but there weren't really hurting a lot; I had no idea that both my ankles were completely raw. I finished the race okay (choosing to ignore the gasps of children as I ran past them in the last mile as well as avoid looking down at my disgusting feet), got some medical attention for my feet and all was well.

After the race I took a picture of my impressively nasty shoes; I have to admit I was a little inspired by Schilling's pitching and bleeding through his sock in the 2004 playoffs either the night before my race or the night before that. I thought it was an appropriate visual symbol for me: a true dumbass, too lazy to miss 15 minutes of sleepy indulgence, yet tough enough to handle the distance. Slow, stubborn, dreaming of badass-ness... that's me.

But I'm thinking it's time for a new avatar, one without blood, puke, or and sort of bodily fluid if possible. Suggestions? Remember now I don't race pretty, as evidenced in every single freaking race picture ever taken of me.

Um, best compliment ever

The coolest thing happened to me on Monday. I spent the past 5 days in Sarasota, FL visiting my aunt and spending time on the beaches that seem to do so much for my mental health. Since last week's Houston workouts got canned due to freakoutedness, business, and laziness, I brought along my running shoes and goggles (even I won't wear a swim cap in the ocean. I have some pride).

So Friday I swam in the Gulf. 11 minutes out, 8 minutes back, lots of sand and salt up my nose. The water was a little cloudy (did you know that's when sharks are more likely to attack?? Did you know I have an irrational fear of being eaten by a shark?!) and I'm a weenie, so I stayed pretty close to shore and just swam parallel to the beach. Despite the relatively small waves, I got destroyed.

Saturday Craig and I ran over the bridge and back. 5-6 miles. I think he was imagining ways to thow me over the edge into the shark-infested waters below.

Sunday found me at a different beach with Craig. Instead of swimming we just stood around and attempted to get our shoulders burnt (we succeeded). At one point I thought I saw a snorkel about 25 feet out from us... and then realized it was a dorsal fin. Holy shit. A dorsal fin. Oh god! There's another. And another! Three dorsal fins close enough to eat me in 4 seconds flat. I immediately spat out curse words and moved to get closer to the shore than the couple floating near us-- I had no qualms of throwing strangers to the sharks.

Then the fins turned 90 degrees and it was apparent they were dolphins. Well, at least I was only overreacting and not completely imagining things. How often do dolphins swim on your beach? Not too much in my world. Pretty cool!

But this post was not supposed to be about my vacay workouts-- it was prompted by my Monday swim. I decided a 30 minute jobbie would do the trick, and after chillin out max with my aunt, I popped on my goggles and got to work. 17 minutes out against some pretty serious (read: demoralizingly butt-kicking) waves, but I assured myself I'd catch some of the juice as a tailwind on the way back. I ended up only getting about as far as I'd gotten on my Friday swim, though I did start a little farther down the beach. At 17 minutes I retied my hair, rocketed out some of the salt water in my nose and turned back. 12 minutes later I was gratefully back to my towel.

But at 10 and a half minutes into the way back, I stopped and stood to find my aunt and our stuff on the beach. A tan old guy (on vacation? new local? coulda been either) sees me and hurriedly comes my way. "Hey, are you a competitive swimmer?" he asks.
Me: No [truth: yes? Do tris count? I figured they didn't since I didn't train in the ocean. Hey, I never said logic was a strong point.]
Old guy: Did you ever swim competitively?
Me: Yeah, I guess when I was younger. [truth: swam 10 years.]
Old guy: Well you looked amazing swimming out there. I watched you swim out against the wind and the waves and couldn't believe how strong you looked. Have you considered swimming competitively?
Me: Nah, I just really do this for recreation now. [truth: because tris don't count. And they're fun.]
Old guy: You look like you should be in the Olympics the way you swim out there! Very impressive!

And he rushed away. Wow. When's the last time someone went out of their way to compliment me? I can't even think of a time. I considered replying. "Yeah, well I'm pretty sure Olympian swimmers don't train in string bikinis" but it came to mind a second too late (and it's rude and I didn't want to alienate my only fan).

But the coolest thing to me was that I felt like a total jerk swimming out there before he came up to me. I was getting pummeled by the water and had difficulty maintaining my stroke. I imagined tanned hotties in next-to-nothing swimsuits sunning on the beach, laughing at my pathetic attempts to conquer a corner of the sea. But instead I got a sincerely nice comment from a stranger. AND I got to gross out some tourists by blowing my nose into the water.

I love vacation.

(By the way, you should think twice about your ocean swimwear if you're a chick. The first day I got lots of seaweed in my top. The second time I got chafed from the string holding up my swimsuit top. Isn't my life hard? Perhaps I should have stuck with a tri top.)

Life as an unironman

I feel like I'm taking crazy pills. This summer? Sucking so far. Last week I got in every workout except a 1200 quickie swim before spinning (that day I went home to be lazy and Craig miraculously got me to go to spin class anyway. Without trying. He's gifted), but I got in an unscheduled 19 mile speedy-for-mishele ride on Saturday. Success, right? I was stoked to do my weekly training summary til I added it up to be 6:05. Six hours! What a waste!

The truth is I'm lost without a $500 daylong race ahead of me. I can't function. In fact, last week I blew off my double workout one day just so I could triple up the next, a la my ironman days. What the heck is wrong with me?

Part of it is stress. I don't have anything to pour all my freakish anxiety and petty annoyance into at the end of the day except for patent registration studying, which actually puts me to sleep every night. If I could get hold of the MPEP editor, we'd have a nice little chat about repeating things more than once. But studying is not so much the "sweat out your stress" kind of outlet to which I've been subscribing. On top of that, I have pseudo tri friends now. Yes, I'm the fat one, slow one, and sometimes ugly one but I can still marginally cling to the group of h-town tri hotties (and I can still claim "the smart one!"). That sounds nice, but my lone workouts feel more like lonely workouts these days. If I have pseudo friends, why don't I have pseudo training buddies? Do they not really like me? Do they think I'm too slow? Lazy? It's absurd that I even bother letting such nonsense cross my mind, let alone occupy my thoughts in the quiet of the day, but there it is: crazy girl creeping in. I thought I drowned that witch in middle school.

Instead of grabbing a cocktail and a Lifetime movie to deal with my [imagined] problems, I'm IMing it up again. I don't like people frowning in disapproval when I say I'm taking the summer easy and getting some sprints in.... for three years. (That actually happened, by the way. At Tejas. By more than one person. Can you believe that?) I don't want to feel left out of the loop when I'm way more knowledgeable than most of the local idiot talking heads when it comes to doing an ironman, especially Arizona. But mostly, I want that iron structure back. I want to feel like me again instead of this babbling insecure creepy girl waiting by her phone instead of brazenly ignoring it when it rings. I am not myself right now.

So I'm headed to Louisville in 2008. Admittedly it's my second choice, but I simply can't secure the bones to get up to Canada the first day of law school classes (small detail) or swing a community fund slot for IM Canada. So I'm heading back (almost) home on August 24th or 31st in 2008. Maybe my family will make the measly two hour drive to cheer me on. Er... maybe not. But you know what? I really don't mind either way. I don't do this for cheering family or dri fit hats or that tri community I so love and hate-- I train for me, all me. Hopefully I can get out of 1L with some kind of fitness that doesn't resemble that of Jabba the Hutt. I'll have a solid summer to toil away my evenings bruising my hiney and chafing my chest. And I can't wait.

But this summer? I really need to study. And give kitty kisses to Gary and Lily. And get back to being normal me that doesn't give a crap if I'm riding solo or in a group or what Summer said to Austin when she was drunk last week. Just making the decision has given me a little of the peace I'm used to. Back to basics and off the crazy pills... I hope.

Louisville in 08! Now who's with me?!?!

Uh, just kidding.