Is a blog still a blog when it is only updated every 3-4 months? Probably not, but I'll write this out anyway, because it was a pretty interesting trip and even if nobody else reads it, I'll want to.
Where to even begin. Well, the training for this race was challenging, to say the least. I had decided this winter to tough it out and not go south at all, with the exception of a week in Florida in mid-January for a race - a HITS half in Naples that went very well and I quite enjoyed - and this particular winter, if you hadn't already heard, was brutal, to say the least. I've lived here for a long time and usually we get brief reprieves from snow and cold, random days where it is a little warmer and the sun comes out and some of the snow melts. But nope, not this time. It just kept on coming, and stayed bitterly cold. My car developed a speed wobble that I discovered was simply because weeks' worth of snow had packed itself into the inside rim of the wheel. Normally that would melt here and there, but nope, not this year. Coldest February on record. It also snowed every single Saturday night. I thought that particular month would never end.
But, training had to be done. Somehow in spite of the insanity I only had to move one swim workout (thanks to my gym for only closing that one time due to all of the snow) and due to an awesome foot injury that kept me from running for a couple of weeks I never had to move any run workouts either. In a way though it was sort of nice to actually have something productive to do in spite of all of the snow. And a reason to leave the house. Half the time it was like, "Do I really want to go outside when it's snowing and the wind chill is below zero? Eh, not really." That particular scenario was pretty common. I spent way too much time in the basement on the trainer watching almost every single episode of The Office.
It always seems more difficult to tell if you are actually getting fitter in the winter. You spend so much time indoors and training alone, and when you venture out to run half the time you're worried about slipping on ice and snow and not even thinking that much about pace and heart rate, and you're layered up in warm clothes. But in spite of that, it did appear that I was more ready for this race than I'd been for any in probably nearly three years. The training had gone flawlessly until my foot decided to stop cooperating in the middle of February, so some things had to be modified for about the final 5 weeks but I did what I could there.
So enough about that, a week before the race I flew over to South Africa. I left home at 7:30am on Sunday morning and arrived at the hotel in Port Elizabeth at I think 11pm there, or 5pm back home. That is a lot of traveling. Somehow it never actually feels quite as long as it really is, surprisingly. But to say we were exhausted would be an understatement.
This was my first time traveling to a race in a different country and in fact only my second time leaving the country at all, the last time being Ireland in 1999, when I would've laughed in your face if you'd suggested I do a triathlon. I honestly had almost no idea what to expect, but fortunately South Africa is pretty westernized and everyone spoke English. They drive on the left, their food is way cheaper, there's a lot of cricket and rugby on TV and they seem to have something against maple syrup, but still. There were plenty of American shows and movies on TV and there were Kardashians on the magazine covers. So, see? They haven't only ruined our country, but others as well.
I slept fairly well the night before the race. All week we'd just been so tired and thrown off by being off 6 time zones in the bad direction, so any opportunities for sleep were usually good ones. I was even kind of hungry for my breakfast, which never happens on race morning. Walked down at about 5:30 in the dark and got everything ready to go. This race actually had more than one age group wave. The pro men went off first, then the pro women, then the first wave of age group men at 6:45 and then the rest of the men plus all of the women at 7. This was I think my 18th Ironman start line, and in all of these races the only aspect that still sometimes gives me true pre-race anxiety is thinking about the swim start. I've been in some brutal ones. But the split start, even though there were still several hundred of us standing on the beach, still just took a lot of that away.
I can honestly say I don't think I've ever been this relaxed before an Ironman race. I had absolutely no pressure on myself. My foot issue training hiccup sort of took out any high expectations I may have had. The foot was tolerable, but I'd missed some really key training and had just kept things pretty easy in the final weeks I was running. I felt like I was in good shape otherwise though for everything else and had no concerns about having trouble getting through the race, barring of course unforeseen issues like mechanical problems, but it's a waste of energy to worry about those things.
It was a beach start, plenty of space, and I lined up right toward the front and as far to the left, which was where the buoys were, as I could get. The ocean had been in the upper 60s I believe which is chilly to start but really pretty perfect for swimming. When the cannon finally fired I walked purposefully toward the water rather than dashing in like a mad woman. It's a long, long day, there's really no reason to dart into the water, and there was plenty of room so no worries about fighting for space.
So, off we went. I don't remember getting hit very much when we were starting, there was a lot of space. A few waves but nothing terrible. The swim is one loop, swim out, 90-degree left turn and swim very far, then 90-degree turn, 90-degree turn, swim back and in. Let's just say that there weren't really enough buoys. And they were the same color. So sometimes you'd look up to find the next one and you might see one in the distance, but you weren't entirely sure if that was the next buoy you were supposed to be swimming for or if that would take you across to the opposite side of the swim course. It wasn't that bad on the way out, and I still had some swimmers around me. But once I turned to swim back in, I don't think I've ever felt so alone on an Ironman swim course before in my life. four or five times I stopped completely to just look around and try and figure out where I was, and sometimes I couldn't even see another swimmer. I could always see kayakers and support paddlers somewhere, but it was pretty unclear whether or not I was actually on the swim course anymore. I had thought that it would be a pain with the wave starting in front of us and I'd run into a wall of slow swimmers, but it really wasn't an issue. I passes some here and there, but everyone was so spread out.
It got really rough out there with the waves, and it was impossible to find a nice crest of a wave to look out and see the next buoy, because there were dozens of others between you and what you were looking for, obscuring the view. So, I just kept swimming in the general direction I thought I was supposed to go and figured that eventually I would be able to see better where I was supposed to go.
And of course I did eventually get on course and figure it out, especially once I was close enough to see the pier that marked the end of the course. I had absolutely no clue what my swim time was as I saw no clock and didn't wear a watch, and I was pretty shocked to see 1:07 when I fully expected that after probably swimming three miles it would be closer to 1:15 or 1:20, but whatever. For reasons never explained, for some reason we had to keep our swim caps on our heads until we got to the showers after a beach run, and we were not allowed to take off our wetsuits past our waist until we were actually inside the change tent. Why? I have no idea, just one of the nuances of international competition, I suppose. Transition was quick and painless and then it was time to bike.
Again, I was thoroughly relaxed. I also really had no major doubts about my bike fitness going into this race. That, plus the fact that I was leaner for this race than I'd been in a while, and there were lots of hills, left me feeling pretty good about how it would go. We had driven the course a few days prior so had some idea what to expect. There were plenty of hills and plenty of beautiful scenery. And monkeys. Definitely my first time doing a bike ride where I saw monkeys just kind of hanging out by the side of the road.
The ride starts out fairly urban on some wide city streets with plenty of civilization, like McDonalds and KFC. I saw more KFC restaurants in South Africa than I've seen anywhere in the US. I started out riding maybe a little harder than I should've, but I hate the beginning of these rides because there are so many more people around me, especially with a wave of men in front of us who'd had a 15-minute head start. I also started drinking a lot. It wasn't especially hot there, probably topped out maybe in the mid 70s, but clearly I had been training through ridiculous cold winter so some extra fluid wouldn't be a bad thing.
Eventually things got a lot more rural and the hills began. There were some long ones, and the downhills to compensate didn't help much because many of them had very sharp turns at the bottom that required going very, very slowly or launching off a cliff. I chose the first option. We also sort of alternated between riding on the right or riding on the left. I had been concerned about left-handed bottle swaps at aid stations, but they had those positioned really well, during very slow sections, so it wasn't a problem. And some of them were on the right anyway. The pavement was also quite often very, very rough. Which made it just a little bit more uncomfortable, but you don't have much choice there aside from just getting through it.
Another added challenge for the day was the wind. We had expected it anyway, but it certainly didn't help speed. But I knew going into this that it was going to be a challenging course, and it was going to be slower than normal, and all I could do was keep pedaling and deal with it. By the time the first loop ended I rode through town with no other people so I felt pretty good about how I was doing. I caught some more guys coming out of town but by about mile 70 I was fairly alone, which can be good and bad. Nice not to worry about other people, but it gets somewhat lonely out there. As much as I enjoy biking, it always gets to a point where it just becomes uncomfortable to be on the bike. My neck was hurting, my wrists were hurting from gripping the handlebars too tightly over all of that rough pavement, the balls of my feet were hurting from so much pedaling, I was just over it. And knowing that on a flatter course like Texas I would've been finished a whole lot sooner also didn't help. But, finally I finished the ride. My nutrition all went down smoothly, I drank 13 bottles of fluid, and I remained upright with no flats.
So, now time to run. Oh, always the wild card for me these days. I was a runner once, and maybe someday again if I can string together enough consistent months of it without injury or something else I will be again, but I'm definitely not there yet. So I knew this was just going to be about getting through it rather than racing it. Not that I wasn't basically going as fast as I could at the time, but it wasn't going to be fast. My legs also felt pretty wrecked from that brutal 112 miles, but once I get to the marathon I don't even care anymore really, I know I can walk if I have to in order to finish.
But, I didn't really have to walk much. One very different thing on this course as opposed to US courses was that the water was served not in cups but in sealed plastic bags you had to bite the corners off of. When they described this to us in the pre-race meeting it sounded like it was both stupid and annoying. But once I actually tried it out on the course it turned out it was actually way better than losing half a cup of water down your shirt like we do it back home. Bite a little bit off, and suck it all down, don't lose a drop. Also, if I did this one again I'd take one or two with me for later on longer stretches between aid stations. Because the first half of each of the three loops had plenty of aid stations, and the second half had closer to 2 miles between them. Or, way, way too long. It was like torture at that point.
Not a whole lot to say about the run. I just kept on moving forward, got passed by a whole lot of people, and kept trying to figure out a way to make my hands stop feeling all puffy and swollen. The on course drink was Gu, and I don't think there was enough salt in there so I was low. I kept eating bananas although I skipped the boiled potatoes they were also offering.
One other weird thing I experienced in this race that I've never experienced anywhere else, I was hungry on the run. Like, really, really hungry. Normally I'm forcing down nutrition and don't want anything, but at any given moment during that marathon if anyone had offered me a pizza, I would've gladly accepted. I don't think I've ever had an Ironman race where I stomached all of my race nutrition so well, either. Just absolutely no moments of race gut or cramping or feelings that I couldn't stand the thought of another gel. For whatever reason, that all went really smoothly.
I already explained the aid station situation, but the run course was really pretty flat which was nice. A few inclines here and there, that seemed more and more like mountains on each subsequent loop, but that was it. Crowd support was great, and the aid stations, when they weren't too far apart, were mostly pretty good. Although some seemed to be missing certain things, and one only had Red Bull for some reason.
For the first time in a couple of Ironman races, I was on the bike course longer than the run course, so at least there was that! I actually picked up the pace for about the last two miles, because it was flat or downhill, because I was thirsty and those last aid stations were really far apart, and because I was hungry and wanted to be done soon. Also I was annoyed that as I looked at the kilometer markers and tried to convert them to miles and compare with my Garmin, it became clear that the run course was long. By a half-mile when I looked afterward. Like we need that. The bike seems to have been about a mile-and-a-half short, but you won't hear me complaining about that.
Just before it got dark, I crossed the finish line of I think my 17th Ironman. I had no idea of my time because I wasn't sure what time the finish clock represented but I didn't really care, I was just glad that I'd finished and that it wasn't terrible and that for the first time in a long time I ran most of the run, even if not that fast. I had my finish line catcher who took me to get my dry clothes and finisher shirt and then she asked me where I wanted to go. Normally at the end of these things I feel so horrendous that I don't know what will make me feel better, whether lying down or food or water or what. But this time my answer was clear: FOOD. Luckily that was easy, and in short order I'd had pizza, a chicken sandwich and a fudgcicle. It was perfect.
So, that was that, another Ironman in the books, first international race. I would certainly recommend this one to anyone and maybe someday I'll even do it again myself. But first we need to erase my memory of the insanely long plane rides. Wow, Africa is far. And huge. On our way over we stopped once in Africa briefly, and where we stopped in Africa was actually closer to the US than our final destination on the same continent.
So that was quite the kick off to the season. Nothing big on the horizon for now, just sticking with a bunch of local races over the summer, I think. But this was a pretty good start.
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
Thursday, January 1, 2015
End of 2014
Well, I'm still not great at updating the blog. Oh, well. 2014 has come to a close and we are finally at 2015, and it looks nothing like Back to the Future II told us it would. Oh, well. I'd have to say that in general I enjoyed 2014. It started a little rough when I couldn't train at all for the first couple of months, and then had to go try and do a 70.3 in Texas with hardly any training. Somehow someone knew that under those circumstances it would be the perfect time for me to flat in a race for the first time in 11 years so I couldn't even attempt to run, which would've been a disaster.
Then I got to spend a month or so training in Tulsa with my friend Jessica Jones and our other friend Logan Franks. These guys are pros, so it was mostly wheel sucking but it really was a nice place to ride, and a gorgeous pool to swim in. Although admittedly it was nice to not be the one in serious training and just go along with whatever. And when we went to the pool, if Jessica had to swim 4000 meters I could be perfectly happy hopping in another lane and only swimming 2000.
That was kind of my main approach to this season. I'd done so many Ironman races over the prior ten seasons and the last bunch had not gone well in the slightest. It really had nothing to do with my athletic ability and everything to do with the fact that I'd completely lost my motivation to train for those races. I kept kind of falling behind and trying to catch up but mostly knowing that it was far too late. So if you check out any of my race results from the last couple of seasons, none of them were really that surprising to me. I had the result I'd trained for. The last time I remotely trained well for an Ironman race was Ironman Texas in 2012, and hey, 6th in my age group! So, you do the work, the race goes well. You don't? Well, I never finished in the dark before quite recently.
Rather than continue this pattern, I decided to take 2014 off. There were a few times where I considered signing up for an Ironman, getting in on something late, but I resisted those urges and in the end, I was so, so glad. It's not that I don't enjoy those races or training for them, but you simply can't make yourself do that year after year after year when you're not enjoying it. 2014 was spent without a training plan. I didn't log a single workout. I really didn't even PLAN a single workout. Over the summer I swam a lot with my open water swim friends, I hardly biked at all and I ran just enough to keep from getting winded in a 5K. And I really enjoyed most of the workouts I did.
I did do a few races, mostly short and incredibly low key ones. I didn't put any pressure on myself, didn't look at the slow results and compare myself to back when I could run marathons faster than my 5K race pace (that was seriously true) but rather just enjoyed going out and doing some fun little races and not worrying about results or training. The intent was not to have this be the norm, but more to give myself the mental and physical break so that I could be ready to get back into serious training for next year. Because I'd been talked into racing Ironman South Africa in March, and I am not going to South Africa without being prepared to race.
After my last little race of the season in September, my new plan was to go to Hawaii to hang out with my friends and watch the race, swim and run and surf as much as I felt like, come home and take one more week off and then get into serious training. I built myself a training plan that I'd follow for 22 weeks beginning at the end of October, and I was going to stick to it and be "serious athlete" again.
So far, it's going remarkably well. I think that break was just what I needed. I'm coming up on the end of week #10 and I haven't missed a workout. I'm feeling faster and stronger than I've felt in a very long time and I'm actually kind of excited about this race. Am I super speedy? Ah, no, definitely not. But I'm making a lot of progress, and that is the most important thing. And I've still got 12 weeks of training to make a lot more progress.
So basically 2014 was like, resting and getting ready for 2015. So far my plan is working well. And somehow I think that training hard in the middle of winter is strangely easier than it is in the summer. I mean, aside from the last week of holidays, nothing is really going on. I'm not missing out on anything when I'm getting up early to hit the pool or pedaling my bike aimlessly in the basement. It's cold and the sun sets at 4 in the afternoon, so I might as well do a lot of training.
I'm looking forward to what will hopefully be a better year. Last year certainly wasn't bad, and I'd argue it was better than 2013, possibly better than 2012, definitely better than 2011, and infinitely better than 2010, which was the worst year of my life. But mostly I'd like to have a year that I can look back on and without question say was a great one. There's only one way to find out...
Then I got to spend a month or so training in Tulsa with my friend Jessica Jones and our other friend Logan Franks. These guys are pros, so it was mostly wheel sucking but it really was a nice place to ride, and a gorgeous pool to swim in. Although admittedly it was nice to not be the one in serious training and just go along with whatever. And when we went to the pool, if Jessica had to swim 4000 meters I could be perfectly happy hopping in another lane and only swimming 2000.
That was kind of my main approach to this season. I'd done so many Ironman races over the prior ten seasons and the last bunch had not gone well in the slightest. It really had nothing to do with my athletic ability and everything to do with the fact that I'd completely lost my motivation to train for those races. I kept kind of falling behind and trying to catch up but mostly knowing that it was far too late. So if you check out any of my race results from the last couple of seasons, none of them were really that surprising to me. I had the result I'd trained for. The last time I remotely trained well for an Ironman race was Ironman Texas in 2012, and hey, 6th in my age group! So, you do the work, the race goes well. You don't? Well, I never finished in the dark before quite recently.
Rather than continue this pattern, I decided to take 2014 off. There were a few times where I considered signing up for an Ironman, getting in on something late, but I resisted those urges and in the end, I was so, so glad. It's not that I don't enjoy those races or training for them, but you simply can't make yourself do that year after year after year when you're not enjoying it. 2014 was spent without a training plan. I didn't log a single workout. I really didn't even PLAN a single workout. Over the summer I swam a lot with my open water swim friends, I hardly biked at all and I ran just enough to keep from getting winded in a 5K. And I really enjoyed most of the workouts I did.
I did do a few races, mostly short and incredibly low key ones. I didn't put any pressure on myself, didn't look at the slow results and compare myself to back when I could run marathons faster than my 5K race pace (that was seriously true) but rather just enjoyed going out and doing some fun little races and not worrying about results or training. The intent was not to have this be the norm, but more to give myself the mental and physical break so that I could be ready to get back into serious training for next year. Because I'd been talked into racing Ironman South Africa in March, and I am not going to South Africa without being prepared to race.
After my last little race of the season in September, my new plan was to go to Hawaii to hang out with my friends and watch the race, swim and run and surf as much as I felt like, come home and take one more week off and then get into serious training. I built myself a training plan that I'd follow for 22 weeks beginning at the end of October, and I was going to stick to it and be "serious athlete" again.
So far, it's going remarkably well. I think that break was just what I needed. I'm coming up on the end of week #10 and I haven't missed a workout. I'm feeling faster and stronger than I've felt in a very long time and I'm actually kind of excited about this race. Am I super speedy? Ah, no, definitely not. But I'm making a lot of progress, and that is the most important thing. And I've still got 12 weeks of training to make a lot more progress.
So basically 2014 was like, resting and getting ready for 2015. So far my plan is working well. And somehow I think that training hard in the middle of winter is strangely easier than it is in the summer. I mean, aside from the last week of holidays, nothing is really going on. I'm not missing out on anything when I'm getting up early to hit the pool or pedaling my bike aimlessly in the basement. It's cold and the sun sets at 4 in the afternoon, so I might as well do a lot of training.
I'm looking forward to what will hopefully be a better year. Last year certainly wasn't bad, and I'd argue it was better than 2013, possibly better than 2012, definitely better than 2011, and infinitely better than 2010, which was the worst year of my life. But mostly I'd like to have a year that I can look back on and without question say was a great one. There's only one way to find out...
Monday, November 17, 2014
"It's Not Easy But It's Worth It!"
The title of this post is what some random old guy walking his dogs said to me as I ran by him on the trail. I don't think I'd ever seen him before, so it was truly random encouragement but his words certainly rang true.
I've just finished my first three weeks of training and am at the beginning of the greatly anticipated rest week. I have to say, for the first two weeks or so, it almost felt... easy. I suppose part of that is that it was relatively easy, since it's base and all Z1 stuff, which is my favorite, and the volume wasn't particularly high. So I suppose it was bound to feel easy, but it was nice to feel good for the majority of the workouts. I do admit that sometime in the middle of week three, when my alarm started waking me up early in the morning out of a sound sleep, that some of the novelty had worn off. But overall, it felt really good to get back out there with a plan and a schedule and an upcoming race to look forward to.
Weather has also been cooperating mostly. I've lucked out in that I've done all of my bike rides outside so far. It should be noted that I'm willing to ride in colder temperatures than most people. As long as what I bring to drink with me won't freeze solid and the roads are dry, I'm probably going to hit the road. I've had some chilly rides but really, as long as I'm dressed well, I'm mostly fine.
It's amazing how quickly this makes me feel more like myself. It's not that I hadn't been doing anything before, but I was doing things without any plan or purpose, and waiting and doing things later in the day. I'm the kind of person who really needs to just get up first thing in the morning and get up and get the training done and then move on with the rest of my day. It just makes me feel better in general. And for the first time in a long time I'm really excited about the upcoming season. I feel like I got the rest I needed and the mental break from constantly having an Ironman to do, and now I'm ready to get back at it and do what needs to be done with fresh legs and without feeling mentally worn down. Granted, we still have 19 weeks to go and a lot can happen in that time, but so far, so good!
I've just finished my first three weeks of training and am at the beginning of the greatly anticipated rest week. I have to say, for the first two weeks or so, it almost felt... easy. I suppose part of that is that it was relatively easy, since it's base and all Z1 stuff, which is my favorite, and the volume wasn't particularly high. So I suppose it was bound to feel easy, but it was nice to feel good for the majority of the workouts. I do admit that sometime in the middle of week three, when my alarm started waking me up early in the morning out of a sound sleep, that some of the novelty had worn off. But overall, it felt really good to get back out there with a plan and a schedule and an upcoming race to look forward to.
Weather has also been cooperating mostly. I've lucked out in that I've done all of my bike rides outside so far. It should be noted that I'm willing to ride in colder temperatures than most people. As long as what I bring to drink with me won't freeze solid and the roads are dry, I'm probably going to hit the road. I've had some chilly rides but really, as long as I'm dressed well, I'm mostly fine.
It's amazing how quickly this makes me feel more like myself. It's not that I hadn't been doing anything before, but I was doing things without any plan or purpose, and waiting and doing things later in the day. I'm the kind of person who really needs to just get up first thing in the morning and get up and get the training done and then move on with the rest of my day. It just makes me feel better in general. And for the first time in a long time I'm really excited about the upcoming season. I feel like I got the rest I needed and the mental break from constantly having an Ironman to do, and now I'm ready to get back at it and do what needs to be done with fresh legs and without feeling mentally worn down. Granted, we still have 19 weeks to go and a lot can happen in that time, but so far, so good!
Saturday, November 1, 2014
One Week (almost) Down, 21 to Go
My little training vacation came to an end this past Monday when I decided to actually start training, with an actual plan, for my next Ironman. Today is Ironman Florida which means it has now been a year since I last did one of those crazy races, and it'll be another five months before I do my next one. And right now I'm totally fine with that.
So on Monday I did something I haven't done in about seven months and I set my alarm and headed for the pool. I've swum plenty, including some pool time down in Oklahoma and lots of lake swims over the summer, but I hadn't set foot at my home pool since before I left to drive down south in the spring for my racing/training adventure. The people at the gym checking me in are totally different, there was nobody in the pool I recognized, and I forgot what it was like to smell like chlorine. It was a good start, though. Then there was some lifting, which I hadn't done in, I don't know, two years maybe?
The beginning of this week reminded me why so many people must start an exercise program and almost immediately stop. I was really, really sore. Wednesday especially, for whatever reason, was the worst. If I hadn't experienced that before and known it would go away fairly quickly, I might've been tempted to give up, too. But even just Thursday I felt a lot better, and Friday nothing really at all. So that was a good start.
The weather for the most part cooperated so I was able to ride outside. It hasn't been warm, but it's been dry. Well, until today. Today I knew the rain was coming for my long ride but I thought I might be able to squeeze it in between the first hint of daylight and the storm moving in without getting soaked. That might've been true if my scheduled ride was about 45 minutes shorter, but, sadly, it wasn't. And the mist that started things off turned into full on rain with about twenty minutes to go. Oh, well. I suppose it could've been worse, but as it was I got in probably three hours of dry biking.
The last two years I became sort of a trainer wimp. Maybe I shouldn't say wimp, because honestly, I've always found riding outdoors in less-than-ideal conditions to be the lesser of two evils when compared to pedaling aimlessly in the basement. But I really did used to ride in just about anything as long as the roads weren't icy and it was above about 25 degrees. Today was in the low 40s, very overcast, but I was reminded that really, if you are dressed for the weather, it's not bad at all. Also funny was that I was all layered up and wearing gloves and shoe covers and fleece lined things and back in September I did a race in just my usual tri kit and it was the exact same temperature.
The first week will officially be over after I finish up my long run tomorrow morning, in what is supposed to be 40-45mph wind so that will be... interesting. But the good news is, so far things are going well and I'm enjoying it, even with less than optimal weather. It's nice to have a big goal to get me through the winter.
So on Monday I did something I haven't done in about seven months and I set my alarm and headed for the pool. I've swum plenty, including some pool time down in Oklahoma and lots of lake swims over the summer, but I hadn't set foot at my home pool since before I left to drive down south in the spring for my racing/training adventure. The people at the gym checking me in are totally different, there was nobody in the pool I recognized, and I forgot what it was like to smell like chlorine. It was a good start, though. Then there was some lifting, which I hadn't done in, I don't know, two years maybe?
The beginning of this week reminded me why so many people must start an exercise program and almost immediately stop. I was really, really sore. Wednesday especially, for whatever reason, was the worst. If I hadn't experienced that before and known it would go away fairly quickly, I might've been tempted to give up, too. But even just Thursday I felt a lot better, and Friday nothing really at all. So that was a good start.
The weather for the most part cooperated so I was able to ride outside. It hasn't been warm, but it's been dry. Well, until today. Today I knew the rain was coming for my long ride but I thought I might be able to squeeze it in between the first hint of daylight and the storm moving in without getting soaked. That might've been true if my scheduled ride was about 45 minutes shorter, but, sadly, it wasn't. And the mist that started things off turned into full on rain with about twenty minutes to go. Oh, well. I suppose it could've been worse, but as it was I got in probably three hours of dry biking.
The last two years I became sort of a trainer wimp. Maybe I shouldn't say wimp, because honestly, I've always found riding outdoors in less-than-ideal conditions to be the lesser of two evils when compared to pedaling aimlessly in the basement. But I really did used to ride in just about anything as long as the roads weren't icy and it was above about 25 degrees. Today was in the low 40s, very overcast, but I was reminded that really, if you are dressed for the weather, it's not bad at all. Also funny was that I was all layered up and wearing gloves and shoe covers and fleece lined things and back in September I did a race in just my usual tri kit and it was the exact same temperature.
The first week will officially be over after I finish up my long run tomorrow morning, in what is supposed to be 40-45mph wind so that will be... interesting. But the good news is, so far things are going well and I'm enjoying it, even with less than optimal weather. It's nice to have a big goal to get me through the winter.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Day 1: 22 Weeks to Race Day
Remember me? I did just check and was impressed with myself when I saw that I had actually posted in June, so four months of silence isn't as bad as I'd thought. My intent is to actually blog more often heading into the 2015 season, but since we all know how that can sometimes go I won't make any promises beyond the fact that I'll try.
Today marked my first day back in "official" training for the 2015 season. My goal race to start off will be Ironman South Africa, which is quite a trek for someone who has actually never left the country before for a race. In fact, I've only left the country one other time, period, and that was fifteen years ago. So this should be quite an adventure. I wrote up my training plan last week and if I survive the grueling workouts I've set for myself, I should be in a very good spot for race day.
This past season I took an intentional break from Ironman, and I think I really needed it. I did my first race in 2004 and since then the only year other than 2014 in which I didn't do at least 1 Ironman race was 2011, and that was only because I found out I had a stress fracture two weeks before I was due to race in Coeur D'Alene. Mentally and physically, I can't tell you how nice it was not to be staring at twenty-five+ hour training weeks constantly, 4-7 hours of training on most days, and just endless miles. Yes, it is nice to push our bodies and test our limits and see what we can do, but I do believe there is only so much of that you can do consistently before it stops feeling worthwhile to you. It eventually requires at least a temporary break, if not a permanent one. I feel much less daunted by the training I'm staring at for the next 22 weeks given that I'm coming off a pretty care-free year in terms of training. I biked when I felt like it, or mostly just when friends wanted to ride. I tried to run at least somewhat consistently, and was in a position where even a 45-minute run was a worthwhile venture, which was a nice change of pace. And I swam quite a bit given that it was summer and I love open water swimming. It was a nice and needed break.
But today I was back at it. I actually set my alarm and drove to my pool, where they haven't seen me since either late March or early April. Just remember that at that point I went to Texas and Tulsa and got plenty of swimming in down there before coming back and hitting the lakes or ocean, so I haven't been quite as much of a slacker as that timeframe implies. I don't think I recognized anybody there but was at least glad that it wasn't crowded. I then hit the weight room for the first time in a long, long time. I don't even remember the last time I lifted. We had reached a point where since I am not generally a strength limited athlete, we bypassed strength training in favor of other things, but given my lengthy absence from serious training, it seems like it can only be a good idea.
I even wen to Bikram yoga today. I don't think I've done that in five years but I decided I wanted to toss something else in there and work on some core and other strength stuff. That was more intense than I remembered. And tougher. And I forget that in spite of the fact that I have zero issues when swimming, biking and running, my knees are not so good. But I think it will be a good addition, at least for the first 8-10 weeks before the rest of the training really kicks into high gear, at which point I fear hanging out trying to do yoga in a 105-degree room might have vastly more of a chance of resulting in me passing out in front of a room full of strangers.
But anyway, day 1 is done. It went pretty well. Now I just have to string together a few months of this and I'll be all set!
Today marked my first day back in "official" training for the 2015 season. My goal race to start off will be Ironman South Africa, which is quite a trek for someone who has actually never left the country before for a race. In fact, I've only left the country one other time, period, and that was fifteen years ago. So this should be quite an adventure. I wrote up my training plan last week and if I survive the grueling workouts I've set for myself, I should be in a very good spot for race day.
This past season I took an intentional break from Ironman, and I think I really needed it. I did my first race in 2004 and since then the only year other than 2014 in which I didn't do at least 1 Ironman race was 2011, and that was only because I found out I had a stress fracture two weeks before I was due to race in Coeur D'Alene. Mentally and physically, I can't tell you how nice it was not to be staring at twenty-five+ hour training weeks constantly, 4-7 hours of training on most days, and just endless miles. Yes, it is nice to push our bodies and test our limits and see what we can do, but I do believe there is only so much of that you can do consistently before it stops feeling worthwhile to you. It eventually requires at least a temporary break, if not a permanent one. I feel much less daunted by the training I'm staring at for the next 22 weeks given that I'm coming off a pretty care-free year in terms of training. I biked when I felt like it, or mostly just when friends wanted to ride. I tried to run at least somewhat consistently, and was in a position where even a 45-minute run was a worthwhile venture, which was a nice change of pace. And I swam quite a bit given that it was summer and I love open water swimming. It was a nice and needed break.
But today I was back at it. I actually set my alarm and drove to my pool, where they haven't seen me since either late March or early April. Just remember that at that point I went to Texas and Tulsa and got plenty of swimming in down there before coming back and hitting the lakes or ocean, so I haven't been quite as much of a slacker as that timeframe implies. I don't think I recognized anybody there but was at least glad that it wasn't crowded. I then hit the weight room for the first time in a long, long time. I don't even remember the last time I lifted. We had reached a point where since I am not generally a strength limited athlete, we bypassed strength training in favor of other things, but given my lengthy absence from serious training, it seems like it can only be a good idea.
I even wen to Bikram yoga today. I don't think I've done that in five years but I decided I wanted to toss something else in there and work on some core and other strength stuff. That was more intense than I remembered. And tougher. And I forget that in spite of the fact that I have zero issues when swimming, biking and running, my knees are not so good. But I think it will be a good addition, at least for the first 8-10 weeks before the rest of the training really kicks into high gear, at which point I fear hanging out trying to do yoga in a 105-degree room might have vastly more of a chance of resulting in me passing out in front of a room full of strangers.
But anyway, day 1 is done. It went pretty well. Now I just have to string together a few months of this and I'll be all set!
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Signed up for Ironman South Africa 2015
I believe I mentioned in my last post that I am taking 2014 off from Ironman training. I've been very happy with that decision. My "big" race for the year will be Timberman, and the thought of training for "just" a half is so, so much less daunting than a full. 3 hour bike rides? 45 minute swims? No problem. And also the feeling that every little run will help, and I don't have to somehow make it through 26 miles.
Last weekend I actually did a little race. Half the reason I did it at all was because it happened to fall on my birthday, and I'd never done a race on my birthday. Since usually I do pretty much nothing outside of normal training on my birthday, it seemed like a fun alternative. It was a very small Olympic distance race in a part of New Hampshire I'd never been in before. Or at least I don't think I had. The weather was gorgeous and it was a nice, very small and low key event. There was also a sprint, and a duathlon, and I think an aquabike option for both distances. The longer race was also the smaller one, so with only 40-something of us, it was actually a mass start swim which was kind of fun. The lake was the perfect temperature, and nice and clean and a course that was easy to follow. I managed to be 5th out of the water. As usual, I was way too slow for the fast people (I think the top 4 all came out at least 3 minutes before I did) and too fast for the average people. I think I'm forever doomed to swim in no-man's land.
The bike was actually 30 miles which is a little long, and since I didn't do my homework I didn't realize how long it was going to be until I showed up and looked at the map. Not that that's a big deal, but I probably should've brought along another energy gel. I raced without any data whatsoever. No watch, no Garmin, no bike computer. It was kind of nice. The ride was fun and went by fairly quickly. I probably could've pushed harder, but since I am officially a terrible runner, I figured I was better off not completely destroying any chance to at least kind of, sort of run.
Off the bike and onto the run course, I think it was good not to know how slow I was going. I've had once again some pretty interrupted training over the spring with the back issue and minor surgery over the winter, so mostly I just wanted to "run" and get through it. Wow, I was slow. And that course was very lonely. But of course I got through it, and the good news is that if you lack the capacity to run anything resembling "fast" then you don't get blisters and you're not sore at all afterward. So I've bounced back nicely. That race also proved that if you find a small enough race you can always manage to place. I came in third. Out of all of ten women. And I won a tri top, size small. I'm not trying to put myself down, but I'm definitely not a small. Oh, well, it was a fun morning. And that's how I spent my birthday.
July looks to be empty of races but will consist of some training and the annual trip up to Lake Placid to train, coach, and generally have a fun time hanging out with a lot of my friends. And today I officially signed up to race in South Africa in 2015. The race is at the end of March, which will make the winter.... interesting. But I think this will be good for me. I've never raced internationally. Actually, I've only ever left the country once, on a family trip to Ireland way back in 1999. I've got some friends who brought up the idea of making a big trip out of it, and you know what? Why not? How often do you get to go to South Africa? I'm guessing just the once, so I can't wait to make the most of that. Also, race entry fees there are about $200 cheaper than your average Ironman. So it also has that going for it.
Other than that, weather has been good, lots of lake swimming and enjoying sun. Looking forward to a good summer of not Ironman training, before I have to spend the whole winter very much Ironnan training.
Last weekend I actually did a little race. Half the reason I did it at all was because it happened to fall on my birthday, and I'd never done a race on my birthday. Since usually I do pretty much nothing outside of normal training on my birthday, it seemed like a fun alternative. It was a very small Olympic distance race in a part of New Hampshire I'd never been in before. Or at least I don't think I had. The weather was gorgeous and it was a nice, very small and low key event. There was also a sprint, and a duathlon, and I think an aquabike option for both distances. The longer race was also the smaller one, so with only 40-something of us, it was actually a mass start swim which was kind of fun. The lake was the perfect temperature, and nice and clean and a course that was easy to follow. I managed to be 5th out of the water. As usual, I was way too slow for the fast people (I think the top 4 all came out at least 3 minutes before I did) and too fast for the average people. I think I'm forever doomed to swim in no-man's land.
The bike was actually 30 miles which is a little long, and since I didn't do my homework I didn't realize how long it was going to be until I showed up and looked at the map. Not that that's a big deal, but I probably should've brought along another energy gel. I raced without any data whatsoever. No watch, no Garmin, no bike computer. It was kind of nice. The ride was fun and went by fairly quickly. I probably could've pushed harder, but since I am officially a terrible runner, I figured I was better off not completely destroying any chance to at least kind of, sort of run.
Off the bike and onto the run course, I think it was good not to know how slow I was going. I've had once again some pretty interrupted training over the spring with the back issue and minor surgery over the winter, so mostly I just wanted to "run" and get through it. Wow, I was slow. And that course was very lonely. But of course I got through it, and the good news is that if you lack the capacity to run anything resembling "fast" then you don't get blisters and you're not sore at all afterward. So I've bounced back nicely. That race also proved that if you find a small enough race you can always manage to place. I came in third. Out of all of ten women. And I won a tri top, size small. I'm not trying to put myself down, but I'm definitely not a small. Oh, well, it was a fun morning. And that's how I spent my birthday.
July looks to be empty of races but will consist of some training and the annual trip up to Lake Placid to train, coach, and generally have a fun time hanging out with a lot of my friends. And today I officially signed up to race in South Africa in 2015. The race is at the end of March, which will make the winter.... interesting. But I think this will be good for me. I've never raced internationally. Actually, I've only ever left the country once, on a family trip to Ireland way back in 1999. I've got some friends who brought up the idea of making a big trip out of it, and you know what? Why not? How often do you get to go to South Africa? I'm guessing just the once, so I can't wait to make the most of that. Also, race entry fees there are about $200 cheaper than your average Ironman. So it also has that going for it.
Other than that, weather has been good, lots of lake swimming and enjoying sun. Looking forward to a good summer of not Ironman training, before I have to spend the whole winter very much Ironnan training.
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Tulsa Training Recap
This is more than a little belated since I've been home for almost a month now, but since I've barely updated at all in the past year I'd say it isn't such a bad offense.
I spent about a month between April and May training in Tulsa with my friend and pro triathlete Jessica Jones. One of the things I love about what I do is the opportunity to meet so many great people and how so many times it has led to such good friendships, often beginning from mere days-long training camps. I met Jessica at a RaceQuest Travel camp last Memorial Day up in Lake Tahoe and we got to hang out a little in Kona, and when she offered to have me come down to Tulsa to train with her, and winter was never ending and I had nothing better to do aside from training by myself, how could I say no?
I'll say the training there was pretty good. I can't really complain much. Drivers were courteous to bikers, I got to swim in a long course pool that is likely the most beautiful facility I've used, and biking and running along the river trails was also excellent. It didn't hurt to also be a 2-minute walk from a Chipotle. Well, maybe that's a bad thing. I can't decide.
The only really unfortunate thing was that for the first 3 weeks I was there I was unable to run because my back was seized up. I skipped some swimming too in the initial week or so, but was fortunate that for whatever reason, biking didn't bother it. Except getting on and off, but as long as I was riding, things were fine. Then finally one day, out of nowhere, it just didn't hurt anymore. I suppose I shouldn't say "out of nowhere" because I did get chiropractic treatment, but just as weirdly and mysteriously as the pain had shown up, it was gone.
After the first week we were joined by another pro triathlete friend, Logan Franks. Jessica knows Logan from Team RWB, and I actually knew Logan from when he was with us at QT2. So funny how everyone knows everyone, just through slightly different channels. Logan also brought his dog, Ubu, who is a really awesome dog who almost makes me want to get one of my own. He also loved licking sweat off your legs after a workout. Logan wasn't training for the race either, so we were both mostly just tagging along for workouts.
I have to say, for once it was nice not being the one who had to train. I trained plenty, but there were certainly times when we went to the pool and Jessica had to swim 4000 meters when I would just wait a bit before getting in and/or get out early. I can't keep up with her in the water anyway, so I promise this didn't make me a bad training partner. I mean, it didn't make me a great one either, but at least I usually drove us to the pool where we got to listen to what Jessica referred to as the "Russian Roulette" that is my iPod. You never quite knew what was going to pop up.
I finally got out to do some running as well, and that was nice. Well, mostly. Obviously starting up to run again after some time off is always difficult, but it was nice that it at least didn't hurt. I was still stuck running alone though, because while I can hang on the wheels on a bike with some pro triathletes, I certainly can't run with them.
It's a lot of fun sharing some time with people who do the same things you do. Always on the same page with workouts (well, that was easy since we just followed whatever Jessica was doing!) and nobody made fun of anyone for going to bed too early. There was surprisingly little down time though, what with all of the training and Jessica's kids. But we did get to spend a nice afternoon kayaking at a local lake, so it wasn't all training all the time.
Eventually our training came to an end and it was time to head back to Texas for the race. Jessica flew down and her mom picked her up since she lives down in Houston, and Logan and I drove down to meet up at the house we were staying at with Jessica's coach, Kevin Purcell. The house worked out great, not too far away from the venue. I was once again thrilled that I had not signed up, although I was definitely jealous that they were experiencing record cold temperatures and race day was about 20 degrees colder than last year. The swim was even 100% wetsuit legal. Oh, well, it was still better to be on the sidelines that day.
I got to see a lot of other friends who had come down to race and watch, so that was a lot of fun. Jessica had a very solid day in what was only her third Ironman, coming in seventh place, so everyone was happy. And after the race, we got to celebrate with her birthday cake which her mom had made since her birthday was the day before. Overall it was a really fun trip.
Sadly, the next day, it was time to drive home. Driving home is never as fun as driving down. I opted to forgo the 4am start on day 1 and any attempts to push to get home in only 2 days and instead got up and ran before packing up and hitting the road a little before 10am. My initial plan was to go just east of Birmingham and stop basically in the same place as I'd stopped by first day on the drive down, but once I got to that point, it wasn't that late and I wasn't sick of driving yet so I decided to push a little further. Sadly, once you get past that point, there isn't much there. So when I finally felt like I wanted to stop, there was basically no civilization for a while and I wound up crossing time zones and stopping just past Chattanooga. But, the good news there was that I was that much closer to home and had that much less road to cover.
It also meant that I got to stop off the following night in New Jersey to visit my cousin Matt and his wife Carolyn and their daughter, Maddie who just turned 1. I see them a lot when they come up north to visit my aunt and uncle, but I've never seen where they live and since they were right off the highway on my way and it was too far for me to go all the way home, it made for the perfect final rest stop, and only a little over 4 hours to go the following day.
So, finally, after being gone for almost 2 months, I made it home. Of course once again I feel like I never want to drive all over the country again, but I suppose as long as opportunities keep coming up and I've got nothing better to do, I'll take them. That said, I wouldn't mind if I had more reasons to stay put!
Since then it's just been adjusting to being home again. I made an early attempt at open water swimming with my crazy friends who seem to think that as long as the ice has melted, the water is ok to swim in. That first attempt was... a little too cold for me, as it involved being able to see our breath and slightly numb lips. I know wetsuits are helpful, but they're not that helpful. Fortunately a week and a half later the water was perfect, so that has been fun. I biked with some friends I haven't biked with in years, caught up with some people, attended some family parties, and the weather has at least sometimes been decent. It's definitely better than it was when I left.
I think that's about as caught up as I'm going to get.
I spent about a month between April and May training in Tulsa with my friend and pro triathlete Jessica Jones. One of the things I love about what I do is the opportunity to meet so many great people and how so many times it has led to such good friendships, often beginning from mere days-long training camps. I met Jessica at a RaceQuest Travel camp last Memorial Day up in Lake Tahoe and we got to hang out a little in Kona, and when she offered to have me come down to Tulsa to train with her, and winter was never ending and I had nothing better to do aside from training by myself, how could I say no?
I'll say the training there was pretty good. I can't really complain much. Drivers were courteous to bikers, I got to swim in a long course pool that is likely the most beautiful facility I've used, and biking and running along the river trails was also excellent. It didn't hurt to also be a 2-minute walk from a Chipotle. Well, maybe that's a bad thing. I can't decide.
The only really unfortunate thing was that for the first 3 weeks I was there I was unable to run because my back was seized up. I skipped some swimming too in the initial week or so, but was fortunate that for whatever reason, biking didn't bother it. Except getting on and off, but as long as I was riding, things were fine. Then finally one day, out of nowhere, it just didn't hurt anymore. I suppose I shouldn't say "out of nowhere" because I did get chiropractic treatment, but just as weirdly and mysteriously as the pain had shown up, it was gone.
After the first week we were joined by another pro triathlete friend, Logan Franks. Jessica knows Logan from Team RWB, and I actually knew Logan from when he was with us at QT2. So funny how everyone knows everyone, just through slightly different channels. Logan also brought his dog, Ubu, who is a really awesome dog who almost makes me want to get one of my own. He also loved licking sweat off your legs after a workout. Logan wasn't training for the race either, so we were both mostly just tagging along for workouts.
I have to say, for once it was nice not being the one who had to train. I trained plenty, but there were certainly times when we went to the pool and Jessica had to swim 4000 meters when I would just wait a bit before getting in and/or get out early. I can't keep up with her in the water anyway, so I promise this didn't make me a bad training partner. I mean, it didn't make me a great one either, but at least I usually drove us to the pool where we got to listen to what Jessica referred to as the "Russian Roulette" that is my iPod. You never quite knew what was going to pop up.
I finally got out to do some running as well, and that was nice. Well, mostly. Obviously starting up to run again after some time off is always difficult, but it was nice that it at least didn't hurt. I was still stuck running alone though, because while I can hang on the wheels on a bike with some pro triathletes, I certainly can't run with them.
It's a lot of fun sharing some time with people who do the same things you do. Always on the same page with workouts (well, that was easy since we just followed whatever Jessica was doing!) and nobody made fun of anyone for going to bed too early. There was surprisingly little down time though, what with all of the training and Jessica's kids. But we did get to spend a nice afternoon kayaking at a local lake, so it wasn't all training all the time.
Eventually our training came to an end and it was time to head back to Texas for the race. Jessica flew down and her mom picked her up since she lives down in Houston, and Logan and I drove down to meet up at the house we were staying at with Jessica's coach, Kevin Purcell. The house worked out great, not too far away from the venue. I was once again thrilled that I had not signed up, although I was definitely jealous that they were experiencing record cold temperatures and race day was about 20 degrees colder than last year. The swim was even 100% wetsuit legal. Oh, well, it was still better to be on the sidelines that day.
I got to see a lot of other friends who had come down to race and watch, so that was a lot of fun. Jessica had a very solid day in what was only her third Ironman, coming in seventh place, so everyone was happy. And after the race, we got to celebrate with her birthday cake which her mom had made since her birthday was the day before. Overall it was a really fun trip.
Sadly, the next day, it was time to drive home. Driving home is never as fun as driving down. I opted to forgo the 4am start on day 1 and any attempts to push to get home in only 2 days and instead got up and ran before packing up and hitting the road a little before 10am. My initial plan was to go just east of Birmingham and stop basically in the same place as I'd stopped by first day on the drive down, but once I got to that point, it wasn't that late and I wasn't sick of driving yet so I decided to push a little further. Sadly, once you get past that point, there isn't much there. So when I finally felt like I wanted to stop, there was basically no civilization for a while and I wound up crossing time zones and stopping just past Chattanooga. But, the good news there was that I was that much closer to home and had that much less road to cover.
It also meant that I got to stop off the following night in New Jersey to visit my cousin Matt and his wife Carolyn and their daughter, Maddie who just turned 1. I see them a lot when they come up north to visit my aunt and uncle, but I've never seen where they live and since they were right off the highway on my way and it was too far for me to go all the way home, it made for the perfect final rest stop, and only a little over 4 hours to go the following day.
So, finally, after being gone for almost 2 months, I made it home. Of course once again I feel like I never want to drive all over the country again, but I suppose as long as opportunities keep coming up and I've got nothing better to do, I'll take them. That said, I wouldn't mind if I had more reasons to stay put!
Since then it's just been adjusting to being home again. I made an early attempt at open water swimming with my crazy friends who seem to think that as long as the ice has melted, the water is ok to swim in. That first attempt was... a little too cold for me, as it involved being able to see our breath and slightly numb lips. I know wetsuits are helpful, but they're not that helpful. Fortunately a week and a half later the water was perfect, so that has been fun. I biked with some friends I haven't biked with in years, caught up with some people, attended some family parties, and the weather has at least sometimes been decent. It's definitely better than it was when I left.
I think that's about as caught up as I'm going to get.
Friday, June 6, 2014
Definition of Success
I have returned home from one of my stints of driving all over the country and living out of my car (and other people's homes). Hopefully I'll catch up a bit and write a blog to recap my training travels and experiences, but this is something I've been thinking of writing about for a while and I wanted to get it out. It has to do with success. In this case I'll speak more specifically in regards to success in sport, but I do think it applies to just about everything.
Success is never a surprise. Not really. I mean, sure, sometimes maybe you didn't expect to do as well as you did, or maybe you failed a few times and it was a little surprising when you finally accomplish what you set out to do, but it is always the result of a lot of hard work and perseverance. The level of success you achieve may be mildly surprising, but seeing a good result from that hard work shouldn't completely shock you.
I have seen this in the athletes I coach and most notably in myself as an athlete. First I need to say that success should not be measured any one way for every single person. Success means something different for each person. I've coached athletes doing the exact same race where one went 14:30 and another went 9:30 and got a Kona slot and both were extremely successful races. It should be based on reaching your potential under the circumstances you have to work with. This also means that even the same athlete might need to have a different definition of success based on their life situation at the time. Your best race when you have 20 hours a week to train is going to be different from your best race you can manage when you only had 10 hours a week to train because work got really busy, or your wife just had a baby, or any other number of reasons that life gets in the way. The result after only training 10 hours a week might not be as good, but if you maximized the time you had it should still be considered a success.
People I know who are successful in racing don't make many excuses. They just get the training done. That's not to say that they are not hindered by obstacles like the occasional cold, an unexpected business trip, sick kids, or again, any number of legitimate reasons that training sometimes gets sidetracked. But they do take those things in stride, miss the workouts they simply can't get in, move on and let those go without worrying about how it will impact everything else. But they also do their best to get in what they can without disrupting the rest of their lives. Yes, I said it's ok to miss workouts. The successful people know the difference between missing a workout because you legitimately can't get it in (or are legitimately exhausted) and skipping a workout because it is less than 100% convenient or they decide that a minor obstacle gives them a legitimate reason to skip it. (Please note: I've been guilty of that second one myself. I think we all are at times.)
This is not to say by any means that every single person who decides to do a triathlon should never make any excuses, and it certainly doesn't mean that they should prioritize their training over things that really matter in their real life. It simply means that you should manage your expectations and don't be shocked when you maybe don't do as well as you thought you would. Or when you maybe don't do as well as that guy you know who you used to be just as fast as, but maybe he has a really flexible work schedule and his kids are in college and he has a lot more free time.
I don't know a whole lot of people who nail all of their training and then have bad results to show for it. Of course there are always going to be cases of bad luck like flat tires, broken chains, unfortunately timed illnesses or days where your stomach just isn't cooperating. "Nailing your training" though doesn't just mean physically getting it done, but it means being mentally present as well. And taking care of the little things like your health, nutrition and rest. If you're not racing up to your potential (and again, by "potential" here I mean based on your own life circumstances, so your "potential" as a working mom with an hour a day during the week is different from your potential if you are someone like me who is single with no parental responsibilities) then there is usually a concrete reason for that. And if you are successful then usually you can look back and see that you just went out and got it done.
I've been thinking a lot about this because when it comes to myself, I've somehow morphed from a "no excuses" type athlete to.... well, not quite like that. Training wasn't optional, it was just what I did that day. Alarm went off, and I was up and out of bed before I even had a chance to think about it. Clothes were laid out for whatever workout, and there wasn't any stopping to think, "Should I go train or should I go back to bed?" Again, it just wasn't a question.
I discourage you from looking at some of my more recent race results, because I know what they say. But if you do, and then you go back and compare them to some of my better years when winning my age group at many races or coming in top 10 in my age group in Kona happened more than once, you might wonder what the heck happened. Now, there were some legitimate setbacks in there. Injuries (hoping for no more stress fractures, ever), minor surgery, or my father's accident and death. But I allowed the setbacks to destroy the momentum, and I haven't fully gotten going again. I can assure you that at this point it is entirely mental as I'm probably physically healthier than I've been in a long time, without any sort of lingering aches or pains that I was working my way through.
I've done some crazy things in the past to get workouts in. I wouldn't say that every person should do such crazy things, but I will say that when I look back at those crazy workouts and my dedication, it is absolutely no wonder I raced as well as I did. Get up at 4am to get in a 3 hour run before work? Sure. Swim 4000 yards at 5am, drive up to go skiing, and follow up said skiing with a trainer ride and an outdoor run? Sure. Getting up between 3:30 and 4am for an entire week of a vacation at Disney World to get 27 hours of training in while not interfering with any of the family fun? Oh, and also riding my bike on a 2.7 mile loop over and over again, mostly in the dark, for 6 hours, during that same vacation. Sure, I never even thought that it wasn't an option.
I won't guarantee that every single person who completely dedicates themselves like that will be a Kona qualifier, or whatever else your goal might be. But you can surely improve dramatically if you dedicate yourself enough. But then I'll also say that you should know yourself well enough to know just how much you want to dedicate yourself. If your life is such that you can prioritize the training, then great, go for it. But if it isn't, then that's ok, too. But try not to be envious of the super fast people, because they are most likely making a lot of sacrifices to be so fast, and those sacrifices are probably not worth the result for you. And again, that's ok. Some people's jobs are more demanding, and some people have more family obligations or any other number of real life things that get in the way. Keep your life situation in perspective when it comes to the goals you set out for yourself and understand that your definition of success can vary based on it. Rather than being upset about the fact that you can't beat that guy in your age group because he has way more time to train just appreciate the time that you do have and the reasons that you can't train as much, whether those be your great family or a job you enjoy that maybe just takes up a little more time than you'd like.
But, sometimes the results just speak more to your level of dedication, and sometimes you don't have a great reason. Or maybe this only applies to me. My results are no accident. Sure, I will tell you that I was surprised when I won Lake Placid since I knocked an hour off my (also Kona qualifying) time from the year before, because I was. I was surprised maybe at the actual level of success, but not at the fact that I nailed the race and felt great the whole way through. I had been completely dedicated to my training. I don't recall specifically but I am pretty sure I didn't miss a workout for at least 6 months leading up to it. I got up early, went to bed early, ate right and raced light. On some level I still see it as a fluke, (and in some ways it was because of course it just depends on who else shows up) but when I really look at my approach in the months leading up, I was incredibly dedicated. The same can be said of my race there in 2009. I did have a somewhat disappointing run that year, but after a terrible year prior, I had to overcome a lot more coming back, and since I once again nailed the training, I had what was probably the best possible result under the circumstances.
I'm skipping Ironman races this year. I think I needed to not have a marathon weighing over my head for a year, and so far I'm very happy with that decision. After 17 of them, I could use a year off. And I'm hoping to regain that momentum to once again become the successful athlete I was before. It really does become second nature eventually, and I do enjoy the training once getting over that initial hump where it is not fun and you can only think about how slow you are. I'm also hoping to start blogging more again as an outlet for my writing and because when life is going well and training is going well, I write more. So, here's to a fun summer of training and local races and getting the positive momentum going again. I'm looking forward to doing all races within driving distance this year and hopefully having fun and maybe even doing well.
Success is never a surprise. Not really. I mean, sure, sometimes maybe you didn't expect to do as well as you did, or maybe you failed a few times and it was a little surprising when you finally accomplish what you set out to do, but it is always the result of a lot of hard work and perseverance. The level of success you achieve may be mildly surprising, but seeing a good result from that hard work shouldn't completely shock you.
I have seen this in the athletes I coach and most notably in myself as an athlete. First I need to say that success should not be measured any one way for every single person. Success means something different for each person. I've coached athletes doing the exact same race where one went 14:30 and another went 9:30 and got a Kona slot and both were extremely successful races. It should be based on reaching your potential under the circumstances you have to work with. This also means that even the same athlete might need to have a different definition of success based on their life situation at the time. Your best race when you have 20 hours a week to train is going to be different from your best race you can manage when you only had 10 hours a week to train because work got really busy, or your wife just had a baby, or any other number of reasons that life gets in the way. The result after only training 10 hours a week might not be as good, but if you maximized the time you had it should still be considered a success.
People I know who are successful in racing don't make many excuses. They just get the training done. That's not to say that they are not hindered by obstacles like the occasional cold, an unexpected business trip, sick kids, or again, any number of legitimate reasons that training sometimes gets sidetracked. But they do take those things in stride, miss the workouts they simply can't get in, move on and let those go without worrying about how it will impact everything else. But they also do their best to get in what they can without disrupting the rest of their lives. Yes, I said it's ok to miss workouts. The successful people know the difference between missing a workout because you legitimately can't get it in (or are legitimately exhausted) and skipping a workout because it is less than 100% convenient or they decide that a minor obstacle gives them a legitimate reason to skip it. (Please note: I've been guilty of that second one myself. I think we all are at times.)
This is not to say by any means that every single person who decides to do a triathlon should never make any excuses, and it certainly doesn't mean that they should prioritize their training over things that really matter in their real life. It simply means that you should manage your expectations and don't be shocked when you maybe don't do as well as you thought you would. Or when you maybe don't do as well as that guy you know who you used to be just as fast as, but maybe he has a really flexible work schedule and his kids are in college and he has a lot more free time.
I don't know a whole lot of people who nail all of their training and then have bad results to show for it. Of course there are always going to be cases of bad luck like flat tires, broken chains, unfortunately timed illnesses or days where your stomach just isn't cooperating. "Nailing your training" though doesn't just mean physically getting it done, but it means being mentally present as well. And taking care of the little things like your health, nutrition and rest. If you're not racing up to your potential (and again, by "potential" here I mean based on your own life circumstances, so your "potential" as a working mom with an hour a day during the week is different from your potential if you are someone like me who is single with no parental responsibilities) then there is usually a concrete reason for that. And if you are successful then usually you can look back and see that you just went out and got it done.
I've been thinking a lot about this because when it comes to myself, I've somehow morphed from a "no excuses" type athlete to.... well, not quite like that. Training wasn't optional, it was just what I did that day. Alarm went off, and I was up and out of bed before I even had a chance to think about it. Clothes were laid out for whatever workout, and there wasn't any stopping to think, "Should I go train or should I go back to bed?" Again, it just wasn't a question.
I discourage you from looking at some of my more recent race results, because I know what they say. But if you do, and then you go back and compare them to some of my better years when winning my age group at many races or coming in top 10 in my age group in Kona happened more than once, you might wonder what the heck happened. Now, there were some legitimate setbacks in there. Injuries (hoping for no more stress fractures, ever), minor surgery, or my father's accident and death. But I allowed the setbacks to destroy the momentum, and I haven't fully gotten going again. I can assure you that at this point it is entirely mental as I'm probably physically healthier than I've been in a long time, without any sort of lingering aches or pains that I was working my way through.
I've done some crazy things in the past to get workouts in. I wouldn't say that every person should do such crazy things, but I will say that when I look back at those crazy workouts and my dedication, it is absolutely no wonder I raced as well as I did. Get up at 4am to get in a 3 hour run before work? Sure. Swim 4000 yards at 5am, drive up to go skiing, and follow up said skiing with a trainer ride and an outdoor run? Sure. Getting up between 3:30 and 4am for an entire week of a vacation at Disney World to get 27 hours of training in while not interfering with any of the family fun? Oh, and also riding my bike on a 2.7 mile loop over and over again, mostly in the dark, for 6 hours, during that same vacation. Sure, I never even thought that it wasn't an option.
I won't guarantee that every single person who completely dedicates themselves like that will be a Kona qualifier, or whatever else your goal might be. But you can surely improve dramatically if you dedicate yourself enough. But then I'll also say that you should know yourself well enough to know just how much you want to dedicate yourself. If your life is such that you can prioritize the training, then great, go for it. But if it isn't, then that's ok, too. But try not to be envious of the super fast people, because they are most likely making a lot of sacrifices to be so fast, and those sacrifices are probably not worth the result for you. And again, that's ok. Some people's jobs are more demanding, and some people have more family obligations or any other number of real life things that get in the way. Keep your life situation in perspective when it comes to the goals you set out for yourself and understand that your definition of success can vary based on it. Rather than being upset about the fact that you can't beat that guy in your age group because he has way more time to train just appreciate the time that you do have and the reasons that you can't train as much, whether those be your great family or a job you enjoy that maybe just takes up a little more time than you'd like.
But, sometimes the results just speak more to your level of dedication, and sometimes you don't have a great reason. Or maybe this only applies to me. My results are no accident. Sure, I will tell you that I was surprised when I won Lake Placid since I knocked an hour off my (also Kona qualifying) time from the year before, because I was. I was surprised maybe at the actual level of success, but not at the fact that I nailed the race and felt great the whole way through. I had been completely dedicated to my training. I don't recall specifically but I am pretty sure I didn't miss a workout for at least 6 months leading up to it. I got up early, went to bed early, ate right and raced light. On some level I still see it as a fluke, (and in some ways it was because of course it just depends on who else shows up) but when I really look at my approach in the months leading up, I was incredibly dedicated. The same can be said of my race there in 2009. I did have a somewhat disappointing run that year, but after a terrible year prior, I had to overcome a lot more coming back, and since I once again nailed the training, I had what was probably the best possible result under the circumstances.
I'm skipping Ironman races this year. I think I needed to not have a marathon weighing over my head for a year, and so far I'm very happy with that decision. After 17 of them, I could use a year off. And I'm hoping to regain that momentum to once again become the successful athlete I was before. It really does become second nature eventually, and I do enjoy the training once getting over that initial hump where it is not fun and you can only think about how slow you are. I'm also hoping to start blogging more again as an outlet for my writing and because when life is going well and training is going well, I write more. So, here's to a fun summer of training and local races and getting the positive momentum going again. I'm looking forward to doing all races within driving distance this year and hopefully having fun and maybe even doing well.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Adventures in Tulsa
Well, apparently I haven't written in a very long time. Not that a lot of excitement has happened, but still. I did at least start a post in July after spectating in Lake Placid, but it looks like I never finished it. Oh, well.
So, let's see, for the past year and a half there has been some mediocre training and some terrible races to show for it. I set some new personal worsts but did at least finish some things, so there's that. After Ironman Florida last year I wound up not doing a single bit of training until a little over a month ago due to some issues, and since I had already signed up for Galveston, I had a crash course in half Ironman training.
This winter was harsh, to say the least. I suppose of all winters to get stuck not training and not contending with the elements, this was probably a good choice. It was routinely below zero with the wind, snowed quite a bit, and never gave us any of those little breathers in the form of days with unseasonably warm temperatures. Every time you walked out the door, any exposed skin just plain hurt. Needless to say, it was not pleasant. Everyone kept asking me where I was going for the winter, or why I hadn't gone somewhere. Well, first, I couldn't train anyway. And after two years in a row of driving all over the place, I'd kind of gotten over it.
But then winter just kept going. I finally got the go ahead to do some training. And my friend Jessica Jones Meyers had offered to have me come down to Tulsa to train with her for Ironman Texas. After a while it seemed stupid not to do it. So, rather than flying down to race Galveston, I'd drive down and then drive up to Oklahoma afterward to do some training, then go back down to IMTX, and then go home from there, when we can hope that by Memorial Day it will be at least sort of warm back home.
I did not sign up for Ironman Texas this year. I couldn't be happier about that right now. I almost did, and then it sold out earlier than usual, and then it became apparent that I could in no way be ready for it in time. I've headed into way, way too many races the last few years just not anywhere near where I needed to be. So I haven't been signed up for an Ironman in months and it feels pretty good.
Anyway, on March 31st, after one last training day that included a run in pouring rain and 35 degrees, I hit the road for Texas, covering over 1100 miles on the first day and spending the night somewhere east of Birmingham. The following day, I made the much shorter drive to Texas. I met up with some of my best friends in Galveston, where we all went in nice and relaxed. All I wanted to do was get through it, as after basically four weeks of training, totally from scratch, just finishing would be something. The swim was incredibly rough, but since I'm very comfortable in the water, it didn't really bother me, it just made me much slower. Also, lack of swim training didn't help.
The bike was pretty speedy until about 40 miles in when I flatted after running over some glass and there was just no fixing it. I hadn't flatted in a race since 2003, my second half Ironman at Timberman, so I suppose I was due. Of all of the races for this to happen at, I'd definitely take that one. So I went back and watched my friends finish and most had great days.
So, now here I am in Tulsa. I've never spent more than a night in Oklahoma, passing through to drive somewhere else. I know, people are probably like, you went to Tulsa? To train? It's not usually the first place that might come up on your list. But then neither was Birmingham, and I found the training there to be excellent. I've trained in Tucson and San Diego and a few supposed triathlon paradises. While the weather is usually perfect as advertised, I've often found the roads for riding less than desirable when it comes to stop lights and traffic.
Anyway, I've been here a week, and so far, so good. I'm really getting thrown into the gauntlet here. Unfortunately, all of that driving seems to have done something to my back, so I haven't been able to run, and swimming doesn't feel so great either. Luckily biking doesn't hurt at all, except for the fact that I am woefully out of shape and with the exception of one recovery ride, all of our rides thus far have been in the 4-5+ hour range. So I'm either going to get pretty fit pretty fast or I'm going to totally implode. We'll see which. I've just been tagging along with whatever Jessica has been doing. It's kind of nice not to have to worry about the race at the end of it. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy training and I like being on task and getting ready for a race, but right now this is just what I need, and it's nice not to worry about my (lack of) fitness or to be overly concerned that I can't run because my back still hurts. Then, when I go home, I plan on racing a lot locally and getting the fun back into things.
It's been great staying and training with someone, too. I get stuck training alone most of the time. Of course most of that is my own doing. More recently I've just been so far off track that I couldn't train with anyone even if I wanted to. I used to have no trouble going out and doing absolutely everything by myself, but it's certainly gotten old. It's also crazy to see how Jessica keeps up with not just the training, but also two very energetic seven-year olds. I've definitely never taken for granted my ability to finish hard workouts and just collapse on the couch. Although this way does keep things much more entertaining.
Anyway, nice easy day today and I'm not sure what's on tap for tomorrow but I'm guessing another fairly long bike ride in this nice weather. I'm liking the roads here, too. Hopefully this will be just the kick I need to get back on track, and hopefully it will help Jessica have a great race down in Texas.
So, let's see, for the past year and a half there has been some mediocre training and some terrible races to show for it. I set some new personal worsts but did at least finish some things, so there's that. After Ironman Florida last year I wound up not doing a single bit of training until a little over a month ago due to some issues, and since I had already signed up for Galveston, I had a crash course in half Ironman training.
This winter was harsh, to say the least. I suppose of all winters to get stuck not training and not contending with the elements, this was probably a good choice. It was routinely below zero with the wind, snowed quite a bit, and never gave us any of those little breathers in the form of days with unseasonably warm temperatures. Every time you walked out the door, any exposed skin just plain hurt. Needless to say, it was not pleasant. Everyone kept asking me where I was going for the winter, or why I hadn't gone somewhere. Well, first, I couldn't train anyway. And after two years in a row of driving all over the place, I'd kind of gotten over it.
But then winter just kept going. I finally got the go ahead to do some training. And my friend Jessica Jones Meyers had offered to have me come down to Tulsa to train with her for Ironman Texas. After a while it seemed stupid not to do it. So, rather than flying down to race Galveston, I'd drive down and then drive up to Oklahoma afterward to do some training, then go back down to IMTX, and then go home from there, when we can hope that by Memorial Day it will be at least sort of warm back home.
I did not sign up for Ironman Texas this year. I couldn't be happier about that right now. I almost did, and then it sold out earlier than usual, and then it became apparent that I could in no way be ready for it in time. I've headed into way, way too many races the last few years just not anywhere near where I needed to be. So I haven't been signed up for an Ironman in months and it feels pretty good.
Anyway, on March 31st, after one last training day that included a run in pouring rain and 35 degrees, I hit the road for Texas, covering over 1100 miles on the first day and spending the night somewhere east of Birmingham. The following day, I made the much shorter drive to Texas. I met up with some of my best friends in Galveston, where we all went in nice and relaxed. All I wanted to do was get through it, as after basically four weeks of training, totally from scratch, just finishing would be something. The swim was incredibly rough, but since I'm very comfortable in the water, it didn't really bother me, it just made me much slower. Also, lack of swim training didn't help.
The bike was pretty speedy until about 40 miles in when I flatted after running over some glass and there was just no fixing it. I hadn't flatted in a race since 2003, my second half Ironman at Timberman, so I suppose I was due. Of all of the races for this to happen at, I'd definitely take that one. So I went back and watched my friends finish and most had great days.
So, now here I am in Tulsa. I've never spent more than a night in Oklahoma, passing through to drive somewhere else. I know, people are probably like, you went to Tulsa? To train? It's not usually the first place that might come up on your list. But then neither was Birmingham, and I found the training there to be excellent. I've trained in Tucson and San Diego and a few supposed triathlon paradises. While the weather is usually perfect as advertised, I've often found the roads for riding less than desirable when it comes to stop lights and traffic.
Anyway, I've been here a week, and so far, so good. I'm really getting thrown into the gauntlet here. Unfortunately, all of that driving seems to have done something to my back, so I haven't been able to run, and swimming doesn't feel so great either. Luckily biking doesn't hurt at all, except for the fact that I am woefully out of shape and with the exception of one recovery ride, all of our rides thus far have been in the 4-5+ hour range. So I'm either going to get pretty fit pretty fast or I'm going to totally implode. We'll see which. I've just been tagging along with whatever Jessica has been doing. It's kind of nice not to have to worry about the race at the end of it. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy training and I like being on task and getting ready for a race, but right now this is just what I need, and it's nice not to worry about my (lack of) fitness or to be overly concerned that I can't run because my back still hurts. Then, when I go home, I plan on racing a lot locally and getting the fun back into things.
It's been great staying and training with someone, too. I get stuck training alone most of the time. Of course most of that is my own doing. More recently I've just been so far off track that I couldn't train with anyone even if I wanted to. I used to have no trouble going out and doing absolutely everything by myself, but it's certainly gotten old. It's also crazy to see how Jessica keeps up with not just the training, but also two very energetic seven-year olds. I've definitely never taken for granted my ability to finish hard workouts and just collapse on the couch. Although this way does keep things much more entertaining.
Anyway, nice easy day today and I'm not sure what's on tap for tomorrow but I'm guessing another fairly long bike ride in this nice weather. I'm liking the roads here, too. Hopefully this will be just the kick I need to get back on track, and hopefully it will help Jessica have a great race down in Texas.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Sticking Around For the Winter
Anybody who knows me knows that the past two winters I've packed up my car and escaped to warmer climates for a few months. Sure, I got to experience record lows, icy pool decks and snow in Tucson, but the other 2 months and 28 days I was there it was quite lovely. And I learned that Alabama is actually a really nice place to train as long as you can outsprint the loose dogs when biking.
I actually kind of enjoyed driving and seeing so much of the country. Anytime anyone asked me about it, they'd usually shake their heads and tell me they didn't know how I did it. Sure, it gets old after a while, but when there is no traffic, which there often isn't as you drive through so many remote parts of the country, it's actually pretty peaceful. And how often do you get to do something like that? But I think in May as I woke up one morning in Louisiana and didn't stop to sleep again until Pennsylvania over 1000 miles later I felt like maybe I'd had enough driving all over the country and packing up my life for 3-4 months at a time.
So this year I've decided to suck it up and settle in and accept that yes, I am a northern girl. And hey, it's been a while since I really got used to my bike trainer and watched a whole lot of movies and TV shows. In some ways it's nicer than hoping that route I made up while looking at Google maps would turn out all right and I wouldn't get lost. And then there was that time I flatted in a pretty remote area of Tucson my final week there and then pulled my phone out of my jersey pocket and realized I didn't have anyone to call and it seemed like a total waste that I'd been carrying it with me all those months. "Hi, Mom. I got a flat. No, I know you can't come get me, but I just wanted to let you know. No, don't worry because every few minutes some random pickup truck drives by and I'm sure the one that stops won't be because they want to murder me." Plus, just think of how much less mileage I'll put on my car.
Nothing else much to report here. I have Galveston 70.3 and IMTX again on tap to start the season. I never would've thought I'd actually like racing in Texas but I enjoyed both way more than I thought I would. So, why not go back? Especially when I can fly there and it won't require driving across Louisiana. If you've never driven across I-10 and I-12 through Louisiana, I wouldn't recommend it. Somehow the traffic never seems to let up, you will almost inevitable at some point come across the kind of rain that makes you have to pull over for a few minutes until you can see again, and for some reason people down there seem to like to drive 5-10mph under the speed limit as opposed to 5-10mph over like we do up here.
All right, that's about it for now. I'm hoping to get back to blogging more regularly so that all three of you who read this can be further entertained :)
I actually kind of enjoyed driving and seeing so much of the country. Anytime anyone asked me about it, they'd usually shake their heads and tell me they didn't know how I did it. Sure, it gets old after a while, but when there is no traffic, which there often isn't as you drive through so many remote parts of the country, it's actually pretty peaceful. And how often do you get to do something like that? But I think in May as I woke up one morning in Louisiana and didn't stop to sleep again until Pennsylvania over 1000 miles later I felt like maybe I'd had enough driving all over the country and packing up my life for 3-4 months at a time.
So this year I've decided to suck it up and settle in and accept that yes, I am a northern girl. And hey, it's been a while since I really got used to my bike trainer and watched a whole lot of movies and TV shows. In some ways it's nicer than hoping that route I made up while looking at Google maps would turn out all right and I wouldn't get lost. And then there was that time I flatted in a pretty remote area of Tucson my final week there and then pulled my phone out of my jersey pocket and realized I didn't have anyone to call and it seemed like a total waste that I'd been carrying it with me all those months. "Hi, Mom. I got a flat. No, I know you can't come get me, but I just wanted to let you know. No, don't worry because every few minutes some random pickup truck drives by and I'm sure the one that stops won't be because they want to murder me." Plus, just think of how much less mileage I'll put on my car.
Nothing else much to report here. I have Galveston 70.3 and IMTX again on tap to start the season. I never would've thought I'd actually like racing in Texas but I enjoyed both way more than I thought I would. So, why not go back? Especially when I can fly there and it won't require driving across Louisiana. If you've never driven across I-10 and I-12 through Louisiana, I wouldn't recommend it. Somehow the traffic never seems to let up, you will almost inevitable at some point come across the kind of rain that makes you have to pull over for a few minutes until you can see again, and for some reason people down there seem to like to drive 5-10mph under the speed limit as opposed to 5-10mph over like we do up here.
All right, that's about it for now. I'm hoping to get back to blogging more regularly so that all three of you who read this can be further entertained :)
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
A Poem From Jack
This may be a new record for longest I've gone between posts, but I'll try a little harder.
Last week we lost a relative after he spent some time battling cancer. Jack McCarthy was my mother's cousin, although to me he seemed more like an uncle you just don't get to see that often, occasionally joining us for Thanksgiving or Christmas or some other random popping by. What made him unique was that he was a poet. He traveled the country reading at poetry slams, which I never knew existed before him, and was quite well known within the poetry community. He's got a few books of his poetry out, but it really was something to watch him perform. Boston people can truly appreciate his poem for Bill Buckner.
When I learned of his passing, I remembered an email he sent me after my father died. It included a poem that anyone might find quite comforting when facing the loss of a loved one. I thought I might share the email and the poem he sent me. The writing of mine he refers to is what I wrote about my father while he was still in the hospital and before he died, and the mention of my brother is in reference to his eulogy.
Jack McCarthy: May 23, 1939 - January 17, 2013
Last week we lost a relative after he spent some time battling cancer. Jack McCarthy was my mother's cousin, although to me he seemed more like an uncle you just don't get to see that often, occasionally joining us for Thanksgiving or Christmas or some other random popping by. What made him unique was that he was a poet. He traveled the country reading at poetry slams, which I never knew existed before him, and was quite well known within the poetry community. He's got a few books of his poetry out, but it really was something to watch him perform. Boston people can truly appreciate his poem for Bill Buckner.
When I learned of his passing, I remembered an email he sent me after my father died. It included a poem that anyone might find quite comforting when facing the loss of a loved one. I thought I might share the email and the poem he sent me. The writing of mine he refers to is what I wrote about my father while he was still in the hospital and before he died, and the mention of my brother is in reference to his eulogy.
Jack McCarthy: May 23, 1939 - January 17, 2013
Dear Molly,
Thank you. Actually, Mark printed off a copy and I read it
last night. It was beautifully written; all the love was between the lines, you
never spilled over into sentimentality.
Funny: I know 20x as much about John today as I did 2 weeks
ago. He never tooted his own horn, and I think he usually had to let the dog
out a few minutes after I arrived. I mainly remember him as someone I didn’t
want to collide with on the basketball court or the football field; it was like
running into a wall. Strange to be saying even that; it must be 30 years since
we played our last game.
I’m very glad I came. I never would have appreciated the
unending line at the funeral parlor, the mob at the funeral. I would never have
had an inkling of what a remarkable guy John was.
You have a real talent for writing. There’s not a lot of
money in it, but there is a lot of satisfaction. And Johnny could be a writer/performer—but
that won’t surprise anyone.
We have followed your Iron exploits from a distance. We’re
all very proud of you—although it’s crystal clear that you didn’t get those
talents from the McLaughlin side.
You have some hard days and nights ahead of you. Following
is a poem that might bring you some consolation in the low moments. (Helen was
Carol’s mother; I wrote this for her when she lost her significant other.)
I know that you can never doubt how much you have been
loved.
Jack
The
Spaces Between
for
Helen
It hurts
when
love dies.
When love is deep,
it
hurts deeply—
more deeply maybe than you thought
anything
would ever hurt
again.
But with time,
the spaces between the moments
when it hurts
get longer,
the moments themselves become
less
devastating,
till eventually you come to
associate them
with
a sad sweetness
that has as much in common
with love
as it does with grief.
I will not say
Don’t
grieve for me—
do I look like Saint Francis?
But I wish you long
spaces in
between,
and may you carry into them
all of that
sweetness,
and only enough sadness to attest
the risk that’s being taken
by everyone who
loves you.
Every time we love, we’re saying
Let
it ride,
and what’s on the table
is
the rent money.
And every time we stride again
out into the crisp desert night
our fists shoved deep into empty
pockets
we know ourselves for losers.
But, Jesus,
what brave losers
we are.
I wish you this too,
for the spaces in
between,
this bravery.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Ironman Arizona Race Report
Five years ago I promised myself I would never, ever ride on the Bee Line Highway ever again. Especially not in a race. I really should've kept that promise.
My return to IMAZ didn't go so well. I arrived without incident with my mom and had a pretty restful few days pre-race. I did a few short workouts, rode the run course with Pat Wheeler in prep for his perfectly executed race and tried to get plenty of sleep and spend plenty of time with my feet up. Saturday morning was the carb load breakfast at The Good Egg which also happens to be one of the few restaurants in the country I've been to where I can only eat two of their pancakes. Way better than Denny's or IHOP. I ate with Pat and Courtney and then Kim Schwabenbauer who ended her rookie pro season on a major high note.
After that I packed up my things pretty quickly to get the bike drop off over with. I've never waited in line for this, but this time there was a huge one that wound all through the park. For some reason they decided to take pictures of every single bike before it got brought into transition. I'm amazed that they keep finding new ways to overcomplicate these processes. But eventually the stuff was dropped off and I was basically done for the day. Nothing left but to drink and eat and keep my feet up. And TBS did me a favor by showing some good, funny movies for me to be half asleep while sort of watching.
I think I slept fairly well. I'm not even sure anymore. Breakfast went down fine and then I went back to bed for a bit before getting up just before 5. My mom was actually already awake and ready to head down to the race. She was a little paranoid and left before I did. The hotel, which was only about a mile from the start, was running a shuttle and I had no issue getting down there at about 5:30. Checked everything out, used the bathroom and before I knew it, it was time to get in the water.
I remember Tempe Town Lake being disgusting. So I was not excited about getting in. I was also not expecting it to be quite so cold. I was a little shocked, actually, with how cold it felt when I first got in. I've certainly experienced worse, but the last time I did this it was in April and the water was a lot warmer. The good thing I suppose is that in the darkness it was less obvious how gross the water was, and if it's colder, presumably less gross stuff stays alive in there. I swam my way up toward the front and found myself a good spot probably two thirds of the way over from the inside buoy line and with only one guy in front of me. I didn't really fight to be in front, there just happened to be space and nobody else seemed to be moving up so I decided to stay there. And then the cannon fired for my 15th Ironman start.
I started swimming hard, and my immediate thought was, "How am I not getting the crap kicked out of me right now?" Somehow I had managed to find the magically perfect spot for my swimming ability. The people behind me were not swimming over me, I was not catching anyone in front of me, and I was not getting squeezed out on all sides. Seriously, for probably at least the first 200 yards, it was just me, swimming in the lake instead of fighting for my life. Given that swimming has been going very well for me late in the season, I immediately felt a nice confidence boost from this. Sure, things got tight here and there, but I never had to do that thing I'd found myself doing in some races where I'd just sort of slow up and let people go around me rather than fighting for my position. So I was quite happy that at no point during the first leg of this race did I think I might drown.
The sun started coming up and it got tougher to see, but with a few hundred sets of arms flailing around in front of me I was generally confident that I was heading in the right direction, and the occasional buoy sighting confirmed this. The water still felt chilly but not uncomfortably so. I tried to hold a strong and steady effort, reminding myself several times that once I got out of that water I was done with swimming for the 2012 tri season. Not bad. I felt like I was doing quite well, and given the small amount of people around me I thought maybe for once I would have a really good swim. My fastest Ironman swim to date was in that lake in 2007 at 1:05 and I was thinking I'd get myself a PR. So imagine my surprise when I got out of the water to see 1:09? What? Rather than dwelling on it, I moved on. And actually, I think percentage wise, compared to the rest of the field, I was right where I usually am, the overall time was just a bit slow. Still, it would be nice to finally have a good swim!
Anyway, out of the water for the last time, and on the long run through transition to change gear. For a fleeting moment I thought maybe they just hadn't changed the clock from the pro time and I swam 59, but the fact that there were so many people in T1 immediately killed that delusion. The volunteers are still amazing and they even put my million gels in my jersey pockets before I headed out for my bike.
I had my instructions on my heart rate zone to follow on the bike and I did my best to stick to it. This was especially difficult early on in the ride. There seemed to be a bit of a head wind and it took me a while to settle in, to the point I was even in the small ring. I got fairly frustrated early as I got passed by a few packs of people, quite deliberately drafting off of each other. I'd take each of these as opportunities to sit up a bit and drink a bunch to get ahead on fluid consumption. Seriously, some of these packs were huge. About fifteen miles in I had let another one go and sat up to drink and I could hear a motorcycle to my left, kind of hovering there. He pulled up, said my number and told me I got a red card for drafting and had to go to the next penalty tent. The pack had passed one other guy who was in front of me who I was too close to. I didn't think I was that close but I've played enough sports in my lifetime to know that you don't get anywhere by arguing with the refs, so I just nodded and sat up to fall back a bit more.
So now I was paranoid for the next 97 miles of riding. Especially between that and the next penalty tent. Even worse was that I got passed by several more LARGE groups which I'd then have to sit up and let get very far ahead of me before proceeding on. I'll admit I was a bit taken out of things at that point. That was the first penalty I've ever received in any triathlon. Add to that we were going uphill and into a bit of a headwind and suddenly I was worried I was going to be riding six hours or something ridiculously unlike me.
Things sped up after I hit the first turnaround eighteen or so miles in when I got to go back downhill and with the wind and finally found my very crowded penalty tent. At least the marshals had been paying attention. I had my timer and they marked me down and I felt more of my race slipping away. But I did at least take a moment to drink and take a gel.
So, finally it was time to leave the penalty tent for hopefully the last time in my triathlon career. It took me ten years to get a penalty, for someone who really does try and ride legal, so let's hope that is the end of that. And then it was downhill with the wind to pick up some speed. That was much better. And it seemed like that couple of minutes had given things a chance to spread out and I was mostly just passing people so there weren't really any more fears I might be drafting. I suppose the three times out and back at least breaks things up a bit, but this is such a boring ride. And crowded.
It seemed on the second loop that the wind had shifted directions. It wasn't blowing that hard in either direction, but this time it seemed to be more with us on the way out and against on the way back. It wasn't long into the second loop that I was already lapping some people. I saw a surprising amount of crashes and flats, which is not fun. Oh, and did I mention the stench of the landfill you get to ride by constantly? Yeah, tons of fun. The miles ticked by and thankfully I was getting faster and still keeping the steady effort where it needed to be. Although I still wasn't going as fast as I was hoping to. There's really not a lot to say about the ride. I was mostly passing people, especially by the third lap, although many were quite possibly only on their second. I drank, I ate, I pedaled, and eventually it was finally time to get off after 5:29. I rode about 5:20 there in 2007 under horrifically windy conditions, so this wasn't such a good ride for me.
Immediately upon getting off the bike my hip flexors were practically screaming at me. They hadn't hurt on the ride so I don't know where that came from, but it made for a very gingerly run through T2 to grab my stuff and hit the tent, where I had a nice team of volunteers waiting for me. One even fed me my banana. By the time I got up, the weird hip flexor thing was gone, and there was nothing left to do but run. Well, after a brief stop for a slathering of sunscreen.
I had my instructions on where to keep the heart rate and tried to maintain a nice, steady pace. For me at this point, steady is still pretty darn slow. I ran 3:47 here I think the last time, and at the time it was a crash and burn. Now it seems blazing fast. My heart rate monitor seemed to be giving me some funny readings, as in, incorrect, so I mostly went by feel at that point. I felt decent enough, just tried to keep moving forward. Sometime before mile 3 I stopped in a porta potty just to pee. Honestly, I already didn't have a good feeling about things, so I didn't think I'd have anything to gain by saving 30 seconds but having to spend the rest of the run in urine-soaked shoes.
After that brief pit stop, off I went. It was warm and sunny but it didn't feel hot, which was nice. I still made sure to douse myself with water and ice when available. The first loop wasn't too bad, but somewhere around halfway through the race my legs started to feel trashed as though I had already run 24-25 miles rather than only 14-15. It just felt.... bad. And it didn't take long before I was walking a whole lot more than I was running, and eventually running just about ceased completely. Everyone passed me. The sun went down. Even walking hurt, though I was pretty sure I'd finish. Epic failure.
It took a long time to finish that run, although I did barely eke out a run split faster than my bike split. The only redeeming thing happened at the end of the race. I had been walking with a guy starting at about mile 24 for me, although he still had another lap to go. He was still in college, doing his first Ironman with his father and his sister. It was nice to have someone to talk to for the last couple of miles. But the better part was with maybe half a mile to go we came upon more of the crowds, including a guy with a microphone cheering people on who looked at us and said, "What are you guys, like fifteen?" So that at least made me feel a bit better.
At the final split he went off to do another loop and I mustered up a sort of run-ish motion toward the finish line where I crossed in 12:10. Last time I was there I won my age group by an hour. That did not happen this time. My mom miraculously was actually still there. I got my finisher stuff and then grabbed a piece of pizza and some chips to go sit at a picnic table. I wasn't that hungry but I do know I need to eat in order to function post-race. Eventually Mom found me and I got my food down and then took a while to go and get my bike and stuff. It all took way too long, but even worse was the roughly mile-and-a-half walk back to the hotel. Ouch.
So that was that anti-climactic end of my season. I wasn't really upset, I was kind of indifferent at that point. I mean, you do have to have some sense of accomplishment just finishing these things, even if you are sort of past that point. By the time we got back to the room I was too tired to care about going out and eating. I think it took me an hour to muster the energy to stand in the shower to get cleaned up. And eventually I just went to sleep. And I actually slept for the first time I think ever in the history of my doing Ironman races.
And the next morning involved the hotel breakfast buffet where I still wasn't that hungry, and then we basically just packed up and hit the road. After a quick trip to In-N-Out Burger, that is. And finally flying home where I plan to stay for a good, long time. Tired of plane rides!
So that's it. The end of my season that involved one good Ironman and one crappy one. I still just can't seem to break through this wall I've found myself behind. I'll be the first to admit that much of it is quite possibly still in my head. But for now, it was time to get some rest and then enjoy a Thanksgiving minus the pre-dinner workouts. I also haven't yet eaten enough to make myself feel sick which is also quite different from the norm post-race. In fact, it was Wednesday night before I realized I hadn't even eaten a real dinner since the race. And it's Saturday and that's actually still the only night I've eaten dinner. Ordered a pizza, by the way.
So I've tried to remain positive because it's always hard to figure out how you should react. Yes, I'm unhappy and it's embarrassing. And you'd be amazed at how much less people want to talk to you after a crappy Ironman compared to a good one. But there's not much I can do about it for now aside from take a little break and then get ready for next season. See you later, 2012.
My return to IMAZ didn't go so well. I arrived without incident with my mom and had a pretty restful few days pre-race. I did a few short workouts, rode the run course with Pat Wheeler in prep for his perfectly executed race and tried to get plenty of sleep and spend plenty of time with my feet up. Saturday morning was the carb load breakfast at The Good Egg which also happens to be one of the few restaurants in the country I've been to where I can only eat two of their pancakes. Way better than Denny's or IHOP. I ate with Pat and Courtney and then Kim Schwabenbauer who ended her rookie pro season on a major high note.
After that I packed up my things pretty quickly to get the bike drop off over with. I've never waited in line for this, but this time there was a huge one that wound all through the park. For some reason they decided to take pictures of every single bike before it got brought into transition. I'm amazed that they keep finding new ways to overcomplicate these processes. But eventually the stuff was dropped off and I was basically done for the day. Nothing left but to drink and eat and keep my feet up. And TBS did me a favor by showing some good, funny movies for me to be half asleep while sort of watching.
I think I slept fairly well. I'm not even sure anymore. Breakfast went down fine and then I went back to bed for a bit before getting up just before 5. My mom was actually already awake and ready to head down to the race. She was a little paranoid and left before I did. The hotel, which was only about a mile from the start, was running a shuttle and I had no issue getting down there at about 5:30. Checked everything out, used the bathroom and before I knew it, it was time to get in the water.
I remember Tempe Town Lake being disgusting. So I was not excited about getting in. I was also not expecting it to be quite so cold. I was a little shocked, actually, with how cold it felt when I first got in. I've certainly experienced worse, but the last time I did this it was in April and the water was a lot warmer. The good thing I suppose is that in the darkness it was less obvious how gross the water was, and if it's colder, presumably less gross stuff stays alive in there. I swam my way up toward the front and found myself a good spot probably two thirds of the way over from the inside buoy line and with only one guy in front of me. I didn't really fight to be in front, there just happened to be space and nobody else seemed to be moving up so I decided to stay there. And then the cannon fired for my 15th Ironman start.
I started swimming hard, and my immediate thought was, "How am I not getting the crap kicked out of me right now?" Somehow I had managed to find the magically perfect spot for my swimming ability. The people behind me were not swimming over me, I was not catching anyone in front of me, and I was not getting squeezed out on all sides. Seriously, for probably at least the first 200 yards, it was just me, swimming in the lake instead of fighting for my life. Given that swimming has been going very well for me late in the season, I immediately felt a nice confidence boost from this. Sure, things got tight here and there, but I never had to do that thing I'd found myself doing in some races where I'd just sort of slow up and let people go around me rather than fighting for my position. So I was quite happy that at no point during the first leg of this race did I think I might drown.
The sun started coming up and it got tougher to see, but with a few hundred sets of arms flailing around in front of me I was generally confident that I was heading in the right direction, and the occasional buoy sighting confirmed this. The water still felt chilly but not uncomfortably so. I tried to hold a strong and steady effort, reminding myself several times that once I got out of that water I was done with swimming for the 2012 tri season. Not bad. I felt like I was doing quite well, and given the small amount of people around me I thought maybe for once I would have a really good swim. My fastest Ironman swim to date was in that lake in 2007 at 1:05 and I was thinking I'd get myself a PR. So imagine my surprise when I got out of the water to see 1:09? What? Rather than dwelling on it, I moved on. And actually, I think percentage wise, compared to the rest of the field, I was right where I usually am, the overall time was just a bit slow. Still, it would be nice to finally have a good swim!
Anyway, out of the water for the last time, and on the long run through transition to change gear. For a fleeting moment I thought maybe they just hadn't changed the clock from the pro time and I swam 59, but the fact that there were so many people in T1 immediately killed that delusion. The volunteers are still amazing and they even put my million gels in my jersey pockets before I headed out for my bike.
I had my instructions on my heart rate zone to follow on the bike and I did my best to stick to it. This was especially difficult early on in the ride. There seemed to be a bit of a head wind and it took me a while to settle in, to the point I was even in the small ring. I got fairly frustrated early as I got passed by a few packs of people, quite deliberately drafting off of each other. I'd take each of these as opportunities to sit up a bit and drink a bunch to get ahead on fluid consumption. Seriously, some of these packs were huge. About fifteen miles in I had let another one go and sat up to drink and I could hear a motorcycle to my left, kind of hovering there. He pulled up, said my number and told me I got a red card for drafting and had to go to the next penalty tent. The pack had passed one other guy who was in front of me who I was too close to. I didn't think I was that close but I've played enough sports in my lifetime to know that you don't get anywhere by arguing with the refs, so I just nodded and sat up to fall back a bit more.
So now I was paranoid for the next 97 miles of riding. Especially between that and the next penalty tent. Even worse was that I got passed by several more LARGE groups which I'd then have to sit up and let get very far ahead of me before proceeding on. I'll admit I was a bit taken out of things at that point. That was the first penalty I've ever received in any triathlon. Add to that we were going uphill and into a bit of a headwind and suddenly I was worried I was going to be riding six hours or something ridiculously unlike me.
Things sped up after I hit the first turnaround eighteen or so miles in when I got to go back downhill and with the wind and finally found my very crowded penalty tent. At least the marshals had been paying attention. I had my timer and they marked me down and I felt more of my race slipping away. But I did at least take a moment to drink and take a gel.
So, finally it was time to leave the penalty tent for hopefully the last time in my triathlon career. It took me ten years to get a penalty, for someone who really does try and ride legal, so let's hope that is the end of that. And then it was downhill with the wind to pick up some speed. That was much better. And it seemed like that couple of minutes had given things a chance to spread out and I was mostly just passing people so there weren't really any more fears I might be drafting. I suppose the three times out and back at least breaks things up a bit, but this is such a boring ride. And crowded.
It seemed on the second loop that the wind had shifted directions. It wasn't blowing that hard in either direction, but this time it seemed to be more with us on the way out and against on the way back. It wasn't long into the second loop that I was already lapping some people. I saw a surprising amount of crashes and flats, which is not fun. Oh, and did I mention the stench of the landfill you get to ride by constantly? Yeah, tons of fun. The miles ticked by and thankfully I was getting faster and still keeping the steady effort where it needed to be. Although I still wasn't going as fast as I was hoping to. There's really not a lot to say about the ride. I was mostly passing people, especially by the third lap, although many were quite possibly only on their second. I drank, I ate, I pedaled, and eventually it was finally time to get off after 5:29. I rode about 5:20 there in 2007 under horrifically windy conditions, so this wasn't such a good ride for me.
Immediately upon getting off the bike my hip flexors were practically screaming at me. They hadn't hurt on the ride so I don't know where that came from, but it made for a very gingerly run through T2 to grab my stuff and hit the tent, where I had a nice team of volunteers waiting for me. One even fed me my banana. By the time I got up, the weird hip flexor thing was gone, and there was nothing left to do but run. Well, after a brief stop for a slathering of sunscreen.
I had my instructions on where to keep the heart rate and tried to maintain a nice, steady pace. For me at this point, steady is still pretty darn slow. I ran 3:47 here I think the last time, and at the time it was a crash and burn. Now it seems blazing fast. My heart rate monitor seemed to be giving me some funny readings, as in, incorrect, so I mostly went by feel at that point. I felt decent enough, just tried to keep moving forward. Sometime before mile 3 I stopped in a porta potty just to pee. Honestly, I already didn't have a good feeling about things, so I didn't think I'd have anything to gain by saving 30 seconds but having to spend the rest of the run in urine-soaked shoes.
After that brief pit stop, off I went. It was warm and sunny but it didn't feel hot, which was nice. I still made sure to douse myself with water and ice when available. The first loop wasn't too bad, but somewhere around halfway through the race my legs started to feel trashed as though I had already run 24-25 miles rather than only 14-15. It just felt.... bad. And it didn't take long before I was walking a whole lot more than I was running, and eventually running just about ceased completely. Everyone passed me. The sun went down. Even walking hurt, though I was pretty sure I'd finish. Epic failure.
It took a long time to finish that run, although I did barely eke out a run split faster than my bike split. The only redeeming thing happened at the end of the race. I had been walking with a guy starting at about mile 24 for me, although he still had another lap to go. He was still in college, doing his first Ironman with his father and his sister. It was nice to have someone to talk to for the last couple of miles. But the better part was with maybe half a mile to go we came upon more of the crowds, including a guy with a microphone cheering people on who looked at us and said, "What are you guys, like fifteen?" So that at least made me feel a bit better.
At the final split he went off to do another loop and I mustered up a sort of run-ish motion toward the finish line where I crossed in 12:10. Last time I was there I won my age group by an hour. That did not happen this time. My mom miraculously was actually still there. I got my finisher stuff and then grabbed a piece of pizza and some chips to go sit at a picnic table. I wasn't that hungry but I do know I need to eat in order to function post-race. Eventually Mom found me and I got my food down and then took a while to go and get my bike and stuff. It all took way too long, but even worse was the roughly mile-and-a-half walk back to the hotel. Ouch.
So that was that anti-climactic end of my season. I wasn't really upset, I was kind of indifferent at that point. I mean, you do have to have some sense of accomplishment just finishing these things, even if you are sort of past that point. By the time we got back to the room I was too tired to care about going out and eating. I think it took me an hour to muster the energy to stand in the shower to get cleaned up. And eventually I just went to sleep. And I actually slept for the first time I think ever in the history of my doing Ironman races.
And the next morning involved the hotel breakfast buffet where I still wasn't that hungry, and then we basically just packed up and hit the road. After a quick trip to In-N-Out Burger, that is. And finally flying home where I plan to stay for a good, long time. Tired of plane rides!
So that's it. The end of my season that involved one good Ironman and one crappy one. I still just can't seem to break through this wall I've found myself behind. I'll be the first to admit that much of it is quite possibly still in my head. But for now, it was time to get some rest and then enjoy a Thanksgiving minus the pre-dinner workouts. I also haven't yet eaten enough to make myself feel sick which is also quite different from the norm post-race. In fact, it was Wednesday night before I realized I hadn't even eaten a real dinner since the race. And it's Saturday and that's actually still the only night I've eaten dinner. Ordered a pizza, by the way.
So I've tried to remain positive because it's always hard to figure out how you should react. Yes, I'm unhappy and it's embarrassing. And you'd be amazed at how much less people want to talk to you after a crappy Ironman compared to a good one. But there's not much I can do about it for now aside from take a little break and then get ready for next season. See you later, 2012.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Return to Ironman Arizona
I still remember the first thing I said to my friend Leslie after I finished my race in Tempe five years ago when she met me behind the finish line. "Don't ever do this race." I had spent the prior few years racing only in Lake Placid and Hawaii, where it's actually pleasant to race... sort of. The water is clean and the roads are inviting and the courses offer some beautiful scenery. None of these things are true with Ironman Arizona. Tempe Town Lake is the least inviting body of water I've ever swum in (you know it's a bad idea when nobody swims in the lake EVER, except on race day), three loops of the bike course riding along mostly dead landscape that includes the occasional tumbleweed and the luxury of riding past a landfill six times. And finally a run that twists and turns on lots of random pathways around the lake so that they could somehow find the miles to make up the three-loop marathon.
And yet, I've come back. It took me over five years, but here I am. Even worse is that it was mostly my idea. I'll let you know tomorrow night how I feel about my decision. Last time I was here I was at my best in terms of triathlon performance. It didn't result in my fastest time, thanks to some killer wind on the bike course, but it will be an extremely difficult performance to match. Not to mention the fact that the level of competition over the last five years has increased dramatically. Five years ago I somehow managed to come in 8th woman overall. Including the pros. There were hardly any pros. I won my age group by an hour. Yeah, I somehow don't think that's going to be happening tomorrow but I'll do what I can.
It's been a long and strange season. I don't even remember when I officially started back up last year after my stress fracture. October, maybe? Surely over a year ago. I was in a pretty bad place physically after being injured and totally out of it for so many months. But, a whole lot of races later, here I am, about to do my second Ironman of the year, my eighth race of the season (I think that might be a new record for me) I drove from New Hampshire to Florida to Alabama to Texas to Alabama back to Texas and back to New Hampshire. Flew to Phoenix and Orange County and Hawaii and now Phoenix again.
And less than a week before Thanksgiving, it's time for Ironman #14. Why do I keep signing up for these things? What about getting up at 3:30 tomorrow morning and shoveling applesauce down my throat is appealing to me? I don't know, but I paid a lot of money to do it so I might as well go.
Things have been fine. The trip here was easy and uneventful. I still remember how to drive around here. My mom came with me this time, and she came out here last time, too. Although this will be the first Ironman I've done since Dad died where she was here but he wasn't. We haven't really done much since I'm trying to rest but she's gone to some art galleries she wanted to go to and I've managed to keep my feet up a lot.
This morning we went to breakfast with Pat and Courtney and Kim, and fortunately I steered us away from Denny's and to another place I remembered going to when I was out here that serves up outrageously huge but also delicious pancakes. We all left stuffed. Then I pretty quickly got all of my stuff together to drop the bike off just after 10:00. I've done plenty of these races and I think this is the first time I've ever encountered a line at bike drop off. And not just any line, but a really long one. Apparently for some reason they decided it was important to take a photo of every single bike before they got brought into transition. What the purpose of this exercise is, I have no idea, but it seemed to only serve to make a simple process ten times more difficult than it needed to be. But eventually the bike got dropped off, and I have an end spot on the rack, the bags got where they needed to go and now it's time to just sit back and relax.
I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow and it's a bit odd to know I've got so many people paying attention to it, but I guess we're about to find out.
And yet, I've come back. It took me over five years, but here I am. Even worse is that it was mostly my idea. I'll let you know tomorrow night how I feel about my decision. Last time I was here I was at my best in terms of triathlon performance. It didn't result in my fastest time, thanks to some killer wind on the bike course, but it will be an extremely difficult performance to match. Not to mention the fact that the level of competition over the last five years has increased dramatically. Five years ago I somehow managed to come in 8th woman overall. Including the pros. There were hardly any pros. I won my age group by an hour. Yeah, I somehow don't think that's going to be happening tomorrow but I'll do what I can.
It's been a long and strange season. I don't even remember when I officially started back up last year after my stress fracture. October, maybe? Surely over a year ago. I was in a pretty bad place physically after being injured and totally out of it for so many months. But, a whole lot of races later, here I am, about to do my second Ironman of the year, my eighth race of the season (I think that might be a new record for me) I drove from New Hampshire to Florida to Alabama to Texas to Alabama back to Texas and back to New Hampshire. Flew to Phoenix and Orange County and Hawaii and now Phoenix again.
And less than a week before Thanksgiving, it's time for Ironman #14. Why do I keep signing up for these things? What about getting up at 3:30 tomorrow morning and shoveling applesauce down my throat is appealing to me? I don't know, but I paid a lot of money to do it so I might as well go.
Things have been fine. The trip here was easy and uneventful. I still remember how to drive around here. My mom came with me this time, and she came out here last time, too. Although this will be the first Ironman I've done since Dad died where she was here but he wasn't. We haven't really done much since I'm trying to rest but she's gone to some art galleries she wanted to go to and I've managed to keep my feet up a lot.
This morning we went to breakfast with Pat and Courtney and Kim, and fortunately I steered us away from Denny's and to another place I remembered going to when I was out here that serves up outrageously huge but also delicious pancakes. We all left stuffed. Then I pretty quickly got all of my stuff together to drop the bike off just after 10:00. I've done plenty of these races and I think this is the first time I've ever encountered a line at bike drop off. And not just any line, but a really long one. Apparently for some reason they decided it was important to take a photo of every single bike before they got brought into transition. What the purpose of this exercise is, I have no idea, but it seemed to only serve to make a simple process ten times more difficult than it needed to be. But eventually the bike got dropped off, and I have an end spot on the rack, the bags got where they needed to go and now it's time to just sit back and relax.
I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow and it's a bit odd to know I've got so many people paying attention to it, but I guess we're about to find out.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Why am I Still Training in November?
So whose bright idea was it for me to sign up for an Ironman at the end of November while training in New Hampshire? Oh, right, that was me. Even worse is that five years ago I swore I'd never do Ironman Arizona again. And yet there I was in June scrambling to find a way in. What an idiot.
I've never trained this late in the season before. Well, that's not entirely true. Twice I raced in Clearwater, which would've been this coming weekend. That said, both times it came after having raced in Kona, so I wasn't so much training for it as I was just doing a few workouts here and there to make sure I could survive the world's easiest half ironman. I mean, one year I shipped my bike directly from Hawaii to Florida. And that was my 56-mile PR. Imagine if I'd trained!
Normally now is the time I'm totally sick of training and just want it to be over. It's not even so much that right now for me as it's feeling like I don't even have a race next weekend. It's very strange. Halloween is over and the Christmas stuff is coming out. I'm living in some weird universe where one week we have a devastating hurricane, which of course is a tropical-related incident, and the next week, today, actually, we have to be worried about snow.
So, it just feels like I'm swimming, biking and running, not so much training for an Ironman next weekend. I had a taste of some really chilly weather this weekend when I went outside for my bike ride. I had forgotten what it was like to wear twenty pounds of clothes for a ride. It was slow! Running is being decent to me right now, and in a strange twist, swimming is finally getting faster. For someone who has had the exact same Ironman swim splits since she started doing them 8 years ago, this is a very encouraging thing. Let's hope it shows through in a week and a half.
I guess one good thing about training so late in the season is that I get to be a totally lazy slug on Thanksgiving. Not that that's the kind of holiday that requires much attention from me. But while many of my friends are enjoying their breaks currently, they'll have started up again by then, and I'll just be getting started on my rest. So that's a good thing.
For now I've got a few more days of training to deal with, then it's time to get on a plane yet again and fly out to Arizona for the race. My mom is coming with me this time. She hasn't seen me finish an Ironman since 2010 since she didn't come to Texas. It will also be a much smaller group of people I know there, which will be interesting. I really have no idea how the race is going to go, I'm just hoping to race well based on where my fitness is right now.
I'm definitely looking forward to a little break though. And of course then getting right back into training for 2013. But mostly taking a break I finally deserve and to truly be able to revel in it as opposed to coming off an abruptly ended season due to being injured or a death in the family.
Because this is turning out to be one of the top three most boring blog posts ever, I'll stop now. Although that is actually a tough list to be at the top of.
I've never trained this late in the season before. Well, that's not entirely true. Twice I raced in Clearwater, which would've been this coming weekend. That said, both times it came after having raced in Kona, so I wasn't so much training for it as I was just doing a few workouts here and there to make sure I could survive the world's easiest half ironman. I mean, one year I shipped my bike directly from Hawaii to Florida. And that was my 56-mile PR. Imagine if I'd trained!
Normally now is the time I'm totally sick of training and just want it to be over. It's not even so much that right now for me as it's feeling like I don't even have a race next weekend. It's very strange. Halloween is over and the Christmas stuff is coming out. I'm living in some weird universe where one week we have a devastating hurricane, which of course is a tropical-related incident, and the next week, today, actually, we have to be worried about snow.
So, it just feels like I'm swimming, biking and running, not so much training for an Ironman next weekend. I had a taste of some really chilly weather this weekend when I went outside for my bike ride. I had forgotten what it was like to wear twenty pounds of clothes for a ride. It was slow! Running is being decent to me right now, and in a strange twist, swimming is finally getting faster. For someone who has had the exact same Ironman swim splits since she started doing them 8 years ago, this is a very encouraging thing. Let's hope it shows through in a week and a half.
I guess one good thing about training so late in the season is that I get to be a totally lazy slug on Thanksgiving. Not that that's the kind of holiday that requires much attention from me. But while many of my friends are enjoying their breaks currently, they'll have started up again by then, and I'll just be getting started on my rest. So that's a good thing.
For now I've got a few more days of training to deal with, then it's time to get on a plane yet again and fly out to Arizona for the race. My mom is coming with me this time. She hasn't seen me finish an Ironman since 2010 since she didn't come to Texas. It will also be a much smaller group of people I know there, which will be interesting. I really have no idea how the race is going to go, I'm just hoping to race well based on where my fitness is right now.
I'm definitely looking forward to a little break though. And of course then getting right back into training for 2013. But mostly taking a break I finally deserve and to truly be able to revel in it as opposed to coming off an abruptly ended season due to being injured or a death in the family.
Because this is turning out to be one of the top three most boring blog posts ever, I'll stop now. Although that is actually a tough list to be at the top of.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Back Home
Well, my trip back home served as my punishment for having such a good time in Hawaii and served to solidify the fact that traveling to and from Hawaii can really only be a yearly event. Otherwise a person might lose their minds and/or risk spending the better part of the rest of their lives either on airplanes or in airports.
I had a very long day of mostly just waiting around for my ride to the airport at about 6:30pm. Apparently my flight had already been delayed, but I was going to be just sitting around and waiting whether I was in town in Kona or at the airport, so I might as well check in my bags and stuff. The line was horrendous as there were several flights out that night but I had more than enough time to get through. Once on the other side of security I could jump on my computer and follow the "progress" of my plane. The plane we were taking had taken off close to two hours late from Los Angeles, which of course meant that we would likely be taking off at least two hours late from Kona. I was due to have a two hour layover in Los Angeles on the way back, which at the time seemed like more than enough of a cushion. I hadn't even gone anywhere yet and already I knew I was in big trouble.
Now, sometimes I find the Kona airport adorable in the fact that it is so small and cute and all outdoors. At 9:30 at night at the beginning of 6000 miles of travel "cute" is not a word I would choose to describe it. It's more like, "How about some air conditioning?" Or, much more accurately, "Why are there literally no information screens telling us anything about what time we're leaving or what gate I'm supposed to be waiting at? Where am I supposed to go and when do I finally get to leave?!?!?" I had just hit a finite point where it was time to go home, and things were not looking good.
Finally at some point it became somewhat apparent which gate we were leaving from, and we had to pass through another screening for agricultural stuff to leave the island. On the other side of this were three gates for the three planes leaving at roughly the same time, all of which were full of passengers stuffed into way too small of a space to accommodate all of them. This plus the continued lack of communication or information made me about ready to see if I could probably get my pilot's license and charter a flight home before it was finally time to leave. I'll admit at this point I was overreacting, but did I mention I was exhausted?
It was us Los Angeles passengers, another flight to San Francisco which I also could've been on as an alternative route back, and a flight to Phoenix which again, could've been my starting point. Phoenix took off on time. San Francisco was in the same spot we were... except at one point it became apparent that things got worse for them. They announced that their plane was having some sort of radio frequency issue, hence the delay. Our plane was fine, it just wasn't there yet. Eventually they announced that they were boarding their flight, but the particular issue they had meant that they were prohibited from flying to the mainland, so they would be stopping over in Honolulu. Honestly, I have no idea how that was supposed to better their situation. I have no idea what happened to those people but I'd be absolutely shocked if any of them left for the mainland that night.
Eventually, after I was about ready to start swimming to California since I'd thrown my goggles in my carry-on, we finally got to board our flight. I spent the entire time unable to relax due to knowing almost without question that I was not going to make my flight to Newark. I might have slept some, but the little girl in the seat next to me slept more I know because she kept on falling asleep on my arm in spite of the fact that her father was in the seat on the opposite side of her. I suspect a few times he pushed her to my side.
My flight landed at 7:04am. My next flight was at 7:05am. Of course that was the only flight I was scheduled for in the entire duration of the trip that actually took off on time. So I got to spend some time in line at customer service wondering if I'd even be able to get home that day. The nice lady at the counter told me that they had already automatically rebooked me on another overnight flight home. Yeah, I know Hawaii is far away, but it is not two nights worth of travel far away. She found me another option through Cleveland a few hours later, getting me home four hours later than initially planned. All in all, not so terrible, so I took my $10 food voucher - a nearly useless consolation prize as at the Los Angeles airport I don't think you can get even a simple sandwich for less than $12 - and got to feel slightly more relaxed that at least I would soon be headed in the right direction.
The next flight took off twenty minutes late. Ok, not so bad. The woman sitting next to me never fell asleep on my arm, but the morbidly obese man sitting behind me spent the entire four hours of the flight snoring like a motorboat. Why is it that the people who snore so loudly are the ones who fall asleep the quickest and stay asleep the longest? I could tell in between my trying to watch Spider-Man for the third time in my travels (they kept playing it, and it was like seeing it for the 20th time because I swear I JUST saw that movie when it starred Tobey Maguire...) I could hear him waking himself up, but he'd just go right back to sleep. I'm just glad I wasn't the poor woman stuck sitting next to him.
Upon my arrival in Cleveland at about 7:00 that night I was annoyingly not surprised to see that my last flight had already been delayed. Scheduled for 7:50, it already said 9:29, and given how things were going, of course I knew it would probably be later than that. I walked around the airport aimlessly for a bit, just to move after so much time sitting still. It turns out I probably should've sat down earlier because everything in the Cleveland airport shuts down at about 8pm like it's midnight since there were about 17 of us left to leave the airport either heading to Manchester or Grand Rapids.
My flight was coming from Baltimore and finally it was headed for us, and there was some hope that I might see home soon. I couldn't even tell anymore what day it was or where I was or what was going on. What I did know was that when my plane finally arrived and I watched the few pieces of luggage get loaded on it, there definitely wasn't a bike case involved. Awesome. But again, very much not unexpected. At that point I only cared that I made it back. It was one of those small planes that only has two seats on one side and one on the other, and finally some good luck came when I had nobody sitting next to me. Sure, there was a crying baby in the seat in front of me, but at least I could elevate my feet.
Finally, at 11pm after 20+ hours of travel, I made it home. Our tiny plane load was the only group at the airport, and I walked to the baggage claim area and saw that of course nobody was at customer service. But before I could even try and figure out what to do next, I saw my bike just sitting all by itself in the over-sized bag area. I was too shocked to think anything, just picked it up and then stood there for another minute or two wondering what to do now about my suitcase. Then again before I had a chance to try and think, I saw an airport worker walking our direction wheeling a cart with one bag on it. Yeah, it was my suitcase. "It got here before you did," she said. "I saw you were on this flight." I should've hugged her but I was so tired I could barely even thank her. I just couldn't believe it. So at least things ended well there. Apparently there was another flight to Newark at 8:30 from Los Angeles, and I did not make it through customer service in time to get on that one, but my bags did. Sometimes the airlines can do a little something right.
So now I'm home and trying to adjust to life back on the east coast. I think wimpy things like I can't go outside because it's 55 degrees and I might freeze. And while I've actually been falling asleep fine, I'm still sleeping for way, way too long in the morning. Or I'll get up to swim and come home and go back to sleep. Fortunately it's a rest week so I've got more time for that.
For now, just tapering until the race, really. Very strange. I can say I'm very much over all of this bike taking apart and putting back together and upon my return from Phoenix I plan to stay in one place for a good, long time!
I had a very long day of mostly just waiting around for my ride to the airport at about 6:30pm. Apparently my flight had already been delayed, but I was going to be just sitting around and waiting whether I was in town in Kona or at the airport, so I might as well check in my bags and stuff. The line was horrendous as there were several flights out that night but I had more than enough time to get through. Once on the other side of security I could jump on my computer and follow the "progress" of my plane. The plane we were taking had taken off close to two hours late from Los Angeles, which of course meant that we would likely be taking off at least two hours late from Kona. I was due to have a two hour layover in Los Angeles on the way back, which at the time seemed like more than enough of a cushion. I hadn't even gone anywhere yet and already I knew I was in big trouble.
Now, sometimes I find the Kona airport adorable in the fact that it is so small and cute and all outdoors. At 9:30 at night at the beginning of 6000 miles of travel "cute" is not a word I would choose to describe it. It's more like, "How about some air conditioning?" Or, much more accurately, "Why are there literally no information screens telling us anything about what time we're leaving or what gate I'm supposed to be waiting at? Where am I supposed to go and when do I finally get to leave?!?!?" I had just hit a finite point where it was time to go home, and things were not looking good.
Finally at some point it became somewhat apparent which gate we were leaving from, and we had to pass through another screening for agricultural stuff to leave the island. On the other side of this were three gates for the three planes leaving at roughly the same time, all of which were full of passengers stuffed into way too small of a space to accommodate all of them. This plus the continued lack of communication or information made me about ready to see if I could probably get my pilot's license and charter a flight home before it was finally time to leave. I'll admit at this point I was overreacting, but did I mention I was exhausted?
It was us Los Angeles passengers, another flight to San Francisco which I also could've been on as an alternative route back, and a flight to Phoenix which again, could've been my starting point. Phoenix took off on time. San Francisco was in the same spot we were... except at one point it became apparent that things got worse for them. They announced that their plane was having some sort of radio frequency issue, hence the delay. Our plane was fine, it just wasn't there yet. Eventually they announced that they were boarding their flight, but the particular issue they had meant that they were prohibited from flying to the mainland, so they would be stopping over in Honolulu. Honestly, I have no idea how that was supposed to better their situation. I have no idea what happened to those people but I'd be absolutely shocked if any of them left for the mainland that night.
Eventually, after I was about ready to start swimming to California since I'd thrown my goggles in my carry-on, we finally got to board our flight. I spent the entire time unable to relax due to knowing almost without question that I was not going to make my flight to Newark. I might have slept some, but the little girl in the seat next to me slept more I know because she kept on falling asleep on my arm in spite of the fact that her father was in the seat on the opposite side of her. I suspect a few times he pushed her to my side.
My flight landed at 7:04am. My next flight was at 7:05am. Of course that was the only flight I was scheduled for in the entire duration of the trip that actually took off on time. So I got to spend some time in line at customer service wondering if I'd even be able to get home that day. The nice lady at the counter told me that they had already automatically rebooked me on another overnight flight home. Yeah, I know Hawaii is far away, but it is not two nights worth of travel far away. She found me another option through Cleveland a few hours later, getting me home four hours later than initially planned. All in all, not so terrible, so I took my $10 food voucher - a nearly useless consolation prize as at the Los Angeles airport I don't think you can get even a simple sandwich for less than $12 - and got to feel slightly more relaxed that at least I would soon be headed in the right direction.
The next flight took off twenty minutes late. Ok, not so bad. The woman sitting next to me never fell asleep on my arm, but the morbidly obese man sitting behind me spent the entire four hours of the flight snoring like a motorboat. Why is it that the people who snore so loudly are the ones who fall asleep the quickest and stay asleep the longest? I could tell in between my trying to watch Spider-Man for the third time in my travels (they kept playing it, and it was like seeing it for the 20th time because I swear I JUST saw that movie when it starred Tobey Maguire...) I could hear him waking himself up, but he'd just go right back to sleep. I'm just glad I wasn't the poor woman stuck sitting next to him.
Upon my arrival in Cleveland at about 7:00 that night I was annoyingly not surprised to see that my last flight had already been delayed. Scheduled for 7:50, it already said 9:29, and given how things were going, of course I knew it would probably be later than that. I walked around the airport aimlessly for a bit, just to move after so much time sitting still. It turns out I probably should've sat down earlier because everything in the Cleveland airport shuts down at about 8pm like it's midnight since there were about 17 of us left to leave the airport either heading to Manchester or Grand Rapids.
My flight was coming from Baltimore and finally it was headed for us, and there was some hope that I might see home soon. I couldn't even tell anymore what day it was or where I was or what was going on. What I did know was that when my plane finally arrived and I watched the few pieces of luggage get loaded on it, there definitely wasn't a bike case involved. Awesome. But again, very much not unexpected. At that point I only cared that I made it back. It was one of those small planes that only has two seats on one side and one on the other, and finally some good luck came when I had nobody sitting next to me. Sure, there was a crying baby in the seat in front of me, but at least I could elevate my feet.
Finally, at 11pm after 20+ hours of travel, I made it home. Our tiny plane load was the only group at the airport, and I walked to the baggage claim area and saw that of course nobody was at customer service. But before I could even try and figure out what to do next, I saw my bike just sitting all by itself in the over-sized bag area. I was too shocked to think anything, just picked it up and then stood there for another minute or two wondering what to do now about my suitcase. Then again before I had a chance to try and think, I saw an airport worker walking our direction wheeling a cart with one bag on it. Yeah, it was my suitcase. "It got here before you did," she said. "I saw you were on this flight." I should've hugged her but I was so tired I could barely even thank her. I just couldn't believe it. So at least things ended well there. Apparently there was another flight to Newark at 8:30 from Los Angeles, and I did not make it through customer service in time to get on that one, but my bags did. Sometimes the airlines can do a little something right.
So now I'm home and trying to adjust to life back on the east coast. I think wimpy things like I can't go outside because it's 55 degrees and I might freeze. And while I've actually been falling asleep fine, I'm still sleeping for way, way too long in the morning. Or I'll get up to swim and come home and go back to sleep. Fortunately it's a rest week so I've got more time for that.
For now, just tapering until the race, really. Very strange. I can say I'm very much over all of this bike taking apart and putting back together and upon my return from Phoenix I plan to stay in one place for a good, long time!
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