Friday, November 17, 2006

Back in the Saddle

The bike saddle that is…Finally, I feel well enough to return to the daily workouts. I'm not 100% mind you, but I'm well on my way. Today's workout was a combination of spin class plus a steady Lifecycle workout. Knowing that I'm still marginal, I went a little easier in spin class than I might have otherwise, but it was still a good workout. My lifecycle workout was a bit of a fitness "test" for Jill to see where I am – after a 5 minute warmup, the main set consisted of a steady effort at 90 rpm, and HR AeT+10. Level 12 on the Lifecycle felt good, and the test itself wasn't too taxing. After that, we threw in just a little free weights & core strength, and then it was time to head.

Saturday's got more biking on tap – a nice easy ride around Lake Washington. It's supposed to be dry (thankfully!) but cold – I'm sure my nose will be dripping more than a leaky faucet. I'm looking forward to it though – it's a good feeling to be back to consistent workouts. I'm back. J

Monday, November 13, 2006

Weekly Recap – Week Ending 11/12/06

Oh yeah, can't forget the weekly recap!

Swim Distance: 1100 yards (ha! J that's funny…)

Bike Distance: 15 miles (Spin class on Wed)

Run Distance: 34.75* miles

Total Time: 7:04

The run miles are an asterisk because they include 8 miles from the elliptical trainer in Cleveland. I was supposed to do a treadmill run, but the treadmill in the hotel only went to 4.7 mph. So I improvised with the elliptical. It was only 45 minutes, so it was really probably more like 5 miles running, but that would still push me over 30 miles for the week. Without it altogether, I'd be at 26.75 miles for the week. Not too shabby…


 

Ugh.

I hate being sick. HATE. Really, REALLY hate it. Ugh.

I'm back on track now following the ½ Ironman, but the posting's been sporadic (okay, nonexistent) due to hectic travel and work schedule. As soon as we got back from Tempe, we had 3 crazy days of work, and then off to Cleveland to attend my dad's recital. It was GREAT, by the way – wish I had something to link to so you could hear the music. I know classical music isn't everyone's bag, but if you're a fan of Chopin, you would have loved it. My dad is an awesome pianist.

So in Cleveland, it was time to get back on the workout train. My coach wants to take advantage of my high level of fitness right now, and since my race did contain a fair bit of walking, suggested I take part in the Seattle Half Marathon. Well, I'm game, but race day is Sunday, November 26. For all you sports fans keeping track out there, that means I have just 3 weekends in between Soma & Seattle to do some long runs. So I needed to get off my butt.

Okay, 2 hour run in Cleveland, followed by a fairly standard, but run heavy week this week, concluding with another 2 hour run on Saturday. Thankfully the weather held out, and we were able to run in the cold, but dry, weather. The week was so post to be capped off with a nice, easy 3.5 hour bike ride around Lake Washington on Sunday, but when I woke up Sunday morning, I knew that wasn't to be.

Sore throat, post nasal drip. Ugh. Today it has turned into full blown head cold, body aches, scratchy throat, swollen glands & cough. I've been holed up here at home, sleeping and generally snuggling with the dogs trying to kick this thing, especially since it's an off day. But tomorrow's workout (30 min swim, 30 min run, 20 min stepmill) isn't looking promising at this point. I want a day of feeling good before I jump back in – and today's been marginal at best. I'm hoping tomorrow is good, so I can get back on the horse on Wednesday, but we'll see. No sense in pushing it now, only to have it come back and wallop me even harder in another 2 weeks. So its loads of OJ, yin chiao, and sleep for me for now.

Ugh. Did I mention I HATE being sick?

Monday, October 30, 2006

SOMA Race Report: The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

WARNING: Really really LONG race report.

Race day, God sent me a reality check. I think I was getting just a little TOO confident with all my recent running PRs, and it was time for a reminder that I'm still a newbie to this whole triathlon thing. Not that I was expecting to place in this race, but I did have some high expectations for myself, and despite knowing better, I had begun to focus more on time goals than on my original (and most important) goal of finishing the race in and of itself.

Suffice it to say, I finished. Check that one off the list. But not in what I would consider Big Dawg, JFT2 fashion. Rather than finishing strong, I limped in, whipped and dejected. More on how I got there follows…

The day started off as planned. We woke at 4 am (wow, that's early) to eat some PB&J sandwiches. Add to that a ½ banana and some water & Heed, a shower, and last minute gear checks, and it was time to head down to race start in the dark. Luckily, the guys at Red Rock Co put on a great race – the transition area was extremely well lit and humming with activity. When we'd racked our bikes the day before, each athlete's area on the racks was clearly marked with the bib number, so it was obvious where your area was. I dropped the rest of my gear in my spot, and went to one of the myriad of volunteers doing body marking throughout the transition area. Then it was back to my spot to lay everything out and get my wetsuit on (at least halfway). The only hitch to the whole pre-race routine was that they ended up clearing the transition before any of the waves started. Maybe this is the way it always works (like I said, I'm new to this whole tri thing) but since I was in the last wave (which was easily 25 minutes after the first wave), I wasn't really planning on needing to be out of transition before they could start the race. This put me on edge a little bit, but I pretty much had my gear laid out and my bike was ready to go, so I grabbed my goggles and swim cap and headed to the swim start.

Jason and I had done the test swim on Saturday, so I knew what to expect from the swim entry and exit, and the water. The water temp was fine (they said it was 68) but the water itself was kinda gnarly. Dirty and green, but I tried not to think about it. The swim had a floating start – each wave would enter off the swim bleachers (about 4 foot steps, with about a 30" rise), and then swim about 30 yards to the east where the start buoys were. Each wave started 3 minutes apart, with the Quarterman men and women waves going first, followed by the 6 Half Ironman waves. Jason was in the first Half IM wave, I was in the last. I was able to see him in the water and blew him a kiss, and then they were gone. I struck up a conversation with some of the other athletes in my wave around me, and tried to relax for my wave.

Before I knew it, we were climbing onto the bleachers, and dropping into the water. It wasn't cold, and I started making my way to the swim start. I felt calm and relaxed – but tried to stay towards the back of the group. Soon, the gun went off, and it was time to go. I don't really know exactly what happened from here, but it went south pretty quickly. I know I got dunked at least once (I think I was swum over) and knocked and bumped repeatedly. I had a terrible time finding any open water, and I couldn't catch my breath. I was breathing every other stroke, and struggling. At some point before even the first buoy, I decided I should just flip over on my back and try to calm down. I'm not sure if this was a good idea or a bad idea, but from that point forward it seemed like I spent more time on my back than on my stomach. The rest of the swim was a blur of just trying to get it done – and it got progressively worse. I never got to the point of even being able to breathe bi-laterally with any consistency (I just couldn't hold my breath for even 3 strokes) and the more I breathed on one side, the more crooked I swam. I couldn't catch my breath at all, and on every exhale I could hear my chest rattling as if it were full of congestion. On at least a couple of occasions, I noticed the kayaks starting to head my way to make sure I was ok. I flipped on to my back at least a dozen times (I think) and even at the end, rounding the final buoy with only 50 meters to go, I couldn't swim freestyle or even breast stroke (I just couldn't get enough breath) but had to flip on my back and double backstroke in. I felt horrible, desperate, pathetic. I wanted it to be over. Thanks again to great race organization, there were plenty of volunteers on the swim bleachers to help athletes out of the water. I had two pairs of hands grabbing my arms and pulling me up each step. Since I was so far back in the swim (being the last wave, too) there were far more volunteers than athletes, so I'd barely gotten on to the pavement and hadn't even found my zipper when I was grabbed by two wet suit strippers.

"Are you okay?" I nodded – "I'm fine"

"Give me your goggles" one ordered me – the next thing I knew, my suit was off my top. They grabbed my arms – "sit down on your butt" on the ground I went, and off came my wet suit. They grabbed my arms again, pulled me up, handed me my suit, goggles and cap and pushed me towards transition. I started moving in the right direction – I wouldn't call it walking, I wouldn't call it running. I was just glad to be done with the swim.

The transition area was full of volunteers directing traffic. I found my bike, toweled off as best I could, grabbed my helmet, glasses, pump, socks, shoes – Wow, that was the worst swim of my life – I kept thinking. Okay, shake it off – time to ride.

I started jogging with my bike toward the bike exit – "Careful on the cement" someone yelled. I made it out to the bike mount area, climbed on, and just tried to focus on bringing my heart rate down, calming down, and working on my nutrition.

It was hard – I felt like I was so far behind because of my swim – it was hard to think about just relaxing and riding – especially with the pros and age groupers whipping past me as they began their second, or maybe even 3rd lap. The bike course was 3 loops, so I knew I was going to get passed quite a bit by the faster folks. Still, it was hard not to feel like I was going too slow when they passed me buy. The first part of the ride went basically uneventfully – I still had a hard time catching my breath, was coughing, and my nose was running like crazy. I tried to start drinking some water about 15 minutes into the ride, and started sipping on my 1st bottle of Sustained Energy after about 25 minutes. The nutrition was tough going – my stomach was in knots from the swim, and putting anything in wasn't helping matters. The first loop went by quickly – I estimated just over an hour – but I looked down and realized that I hadn't been drinking enough of my nutrition, and I'd forgotten all about my Endurolytes. I downed a bunch of Endurolytes at the start of the 2nd loop, and that went over like a ton of bricks in my stomach. At least I had the entertainment to see one of the male age groupers standing on the side of the road, hanging it all out for everyone to see, peeing. Nice.

Lap two went similarly. I saw a LOT of people changing tires on the side of the road during this ride – I just kept pleading "please no flat tires, I've had a bad enough day already" and that seemed to work. I felt like I was regaining some sense of control during the bike – I was riding well and maintaining a reasonable heart rate. Probably slightly higher than I should have, but still within what I was thinking was reasonable. My stomach wasn't getting any better though, and I continued to have problems breathing. Every time I took a deep breath, I went into coughing fits, which only made my stomach hurt more. It was easier if I just kept my breathing shallow. I was consciously thinking about getting my nutrition in, but was having a tough time doing it. I knew I should have been finished with my first bottle of Sustained Energy by mid-way through the 2nd loop, but I was having a tough time. Finally at about mile 32, I ditched the remaining bit at a bottle drop (I'd probably gotten about 300 calories in, at best from that), and switched to my bottle of Heed.

The Heed at least tasted better. The third lap came and I started trading places with a 19 year old woman on the bike. We just kept jack-rabbitting on the straight away – she would pass me, and then I would find myself only about a bike length behind her, so then I knew I had to either pass her or fall back. I finally passed her for good at about mile 46. A couple miles later, I tried to choke down a Raspberry Hammer gel – I got about 2/3 of it in, before I couldn't stand it anymore. That and the ½ bottle of Heed I'd been able to get in brought my caloric intake to about 450 (if that), as opposed to the 600+ I should have taken in on the bike. My stomach was cramped (I could feel it as I tried to stretch out in my aero bars) but I tried to convince myself as I was finishing the bike that the run was going to be AWESOME.

So much for positive self-talk! J I got into transition, and had to weave my way around the Quarterman athletes beginning to clear their bikes & gear out of transition. Helmet off, hat on, change shoes, grab the fuel belt & race belt. Oops – porta potty stop. Try as I might to do the "triathlete thing" and pee on the bike, I couldn't do it, so the stop in transition was necessary. Tie shoes, grab belts on and go. Or try to go.

"Stay to the left" the volunteers yelled – I was joining the stream of runners who were rounding the corner and beginning their 2nd lap, as I was starting my first. Ick. I made it about 25 yards before I made the fateful decision to drop my fuel belt. With my stomach in knots already, I wasn't sure I could run at all, let alone with that around my waist. I guess that could have been considered littering and cause for DQ, but I guess luckily I was still close to transition, amongst a big crowd of spectators, and just dropped it in a tree well right in from of the transition zone. Unfortunately, it was gone by the time I was done with my race, but I knew that's the chance I was taking.

Right from the get go on the run I felt terrible. I knew I hadn't had enough food, and I felt sick to my stomach. Luckily once I dropped my belt, I started to feel a bit better after a ½ mile, but my chest was bad and it was all I could do to shuffle along. I was trying to keep myself around AeT, but it was hard. My HR would float up to +10, I'd pull it back, shuffle shuffle shuffle. I made it to the first aid station at mile one & grabbed a water, coke, and put a gu in my pocket. Water was fine, coke was not. Okay, lesson learned there. I tried to take some of the gu about a mile later, but that went over like the Coke, so I knew I was down to only water.

I saw women passing me, running strong, and I watched them jealously. That should be me, I thought – I should be running strong. But it was all I could do to maintain a shuffle, walk through the aid stations, and start going again. I started up a conversation with a guy around mile 3 (his mile 10) – he was saying we were in the home stretch, and I said, "not for me – I still have 10 to go" yikes – I really didn't know if I was going to make it that far. I was beginning to doubt I had even the mental toughness to stick it out. Shuffle shuffle shuffle – past the horse barns, over the bridge again, then on the LOOONG (way TOO long, if you ask me) out and back on the dusty dirt & rock trail. Shuffle shuffle shuffle – I was fighting a side stitch / cramp off and on, sometimes it would hurt so much I would walk, it would fade, I'd start shuffling, and it would start up again. I kept thinking it was my body's way of reminding me to lean forward (shoulders over the balls of your feet!) – that was the only way I could keep it at bay. Right around mile 5.5, Jason caught up with me. It was his mile 12. I was walking.

I'd known going in to the race that with the wave timing and Jason's speed on the bike, there was a possibility that he would catch me on the run where he would be finishing and I'd still have a loop to go. I didn't think I would feel as badly as I did. He walked with me a bit, and I told him how horribly my race had been going. He gave me a pep talk, told me to keep going, told me he knew I could do it. He was having a great race, and I urged him to run on – he was going to beat his goal of sub-6:00 by a fair bit, and I was so happy for him. He handed me one of his flasks of Heed and off he went. I plodded and shuffled along.

I managed to shuffle the whole way from mile 6.5 to 7.5 without stopping, walked through the aid station, and then shuffled along to the next one. I kept recalculating the time I needed to do the 2nd lap in if I was going to come close to a 6:30, but I knew it had slipped away. I kept thinking, "if only I could close my eyes, I could gut this out better" – but you can't really run with your eyes closed, can you? By the time I got to mile 9, I was hurting. I walked through the aid station, and had to berate myself into starting up again. The sun was threatening to break through the clouds. Up until this point, it had been perfect race weather – warm, but not hot, overcast skies and no wind. I knew I didn't want to be out on the course in the sun. I shuffled on to mile 10, and when I hit it, I just couldn't do it anymore. I walked, and somewhere in my mind a switch flipped and there would be no more running / jogging / shuffling today. My stomach was done, and it was just less painful to walk.

Just before mile 11, I saw Jason walking towards me on the bridge. I hadn't wanted him to come find me – he'd exerted himself quite a bit on his race, and here he was putting more mileage on his legs. We walked and talked a bit – he'd brought me some more water. I told him to stay and wait for me while I did the long out & back – there was no reason for him to do that extra mileage. I don't know how long it took – I think it was a mile – but he was there waiting, cheering people on, when I got back. I tried to shuffle a little on the out & back, but that was a bad idea. I realized as I was out there that even when I was walking, I was taking little gasping breaths, and even walking my HR was where I would normally see it for an 11:00 mile. I tried shuffling again when I met up with Jason, but just couldn't keep it going. Walking was just going to have to do.

We talked some more in the last mile and a half – he told me about his race. He'd been able to pace the entire run with a fire fighter from Phoenix, and basically ran the same pace as our PR ½ marathon, despite walking with me for a bit. I talked about how disappointed I was, how I'd wanted so badly to have a good race today. I cried a bit. He told me how proud he was of me for keeping going, for finishing. I didn't feel proud – I felt like I'd let myself and everyone who was pulling for me down. I know that's not true – I know that finishing is itself a huge accomplishment. But I also know I didn't do what I'd gone to Arizona to do. I wasn't able to race, and I was disappointed.

Jason walked with me all the way to the final turn to the finish chute. I managed a smile and jogged the final straight away down to the chute. I think I may have even managed to wipe my running nose before the photographer snapped the finish line photo. Someone put a medal around my neck.

Finally, the race was over. I could stop.

My official time: 6:53:31.

Swim: 53:39 (2:41 / 100m)
T1: 3:38
Bike: 3:12:59 (17.4 mph)
T2: 5:07
Run: 2:38:11 (12:05 pace)

Now that it's over and I've had some time to reflect, I'm working on focusing on the positive aspects. Every athlete has bad days – mine just happened to be race day. I know they happen, and it doesn't make me any less of an athlete. I'm going to learn from it and move on, and be proud of the fact that I stuck it out, even when I thought about stopping, even when I just wanted the race to be over. Even when I doubted my ability to go on, I did go on, I kept putting one foot in front of the other, and finished. Many people don't even dare to begin, and here I was finishing. I have every right to my gear, my t-shirt and my medal. I might not have been fast, I might not have had a great day, but through my pain, my sweat and yes, my tears, I earned it.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Oh yeah, the Weekly Recap - from Vegas

Okay, sorry about that - here's the Weekly Recap for last week - from Vegas. It's a bit of a lighter week (volume-wise, certainly not intensity-wise) as we head into final taper for Soma.

Swim Distance: 4200 yards
Bike Distance: 52.1 miles (though I'm short on distance for Saturday's ride - Jason's GPS showed it as 6 miles longer)
Run distance: 15.15 miles
Total Time: 7:54

This week is due to be light as well, with little volume in additiona to the race. I'm headed home from Vegas tonight (and not too soon, ugh, I can't stand all the smoke & air freshener. YUCK!) - repack and head down to Tempe tomorrow. The real race countdown is starting!

Monday, October 23, 2006

5K Pain - Dawg Dash Race Report

And I thought a 10K was hard.

As our last "intensity" workout before the big race this weekend, Jill thought it would be great for us to do a 5K race. The last big kick before a week of taper, coming in to the Half Ironman.

5Ks are tough because they're short enough that you pretty much just run all out for the entire race. Unfortunately, they're also long enough that it hurts. Alot.

Well, fortunately or unfortunately for us, the 21st Annual
Dawg Dash was this weekend. The kick off to the University of Washington's homecoming celebration, the Dawg Dash typically draws hundreds of students & alumni (and their dogs) to campus to participate in either the 5K or 10K run. This weekend was no exception, especially since the weather was SO outstanding!

The day started out brisk - it was only in the 40s - but the sky was clear blue and the sun was shining. We got to the stadium just before 8:30, and they were already doing packet pick up. I grabbed our numbers, chips & t-shirts, and headed back to the car to meet up with Jason. We spent some time stretching in the sun, ditched our warm up clothes and headed in to the stadium where the start / finish area was.

A quick stop at the restrooms, then we did a series of pickups on the track (with a bunch of other very serious looking runners). I was starting to get nervous about this whole race thing - I'd say my
Little Dog was barking a little too loudly for my comfort! They even had to delay the start of the race because there were so many day of race registrants - the line was huge!

Finally, we got lined up in the start area - the race was big enough that they had pace signs, so I lined up squarely between the 7:00 mile & 8:00 mile signs. Based on my 10K time, I knew I should be doing roughly 7:30s (though that was an entirely frightening thought), so that's where I headed. We listened to the national anthem, and then it was time to go. Man, was I nervous!!

The gun went off, and it took a few seconds to get to the start line. I thought I hit the start button on my HRM, but as I was to find out later, I apparently hit it twice. We headed around the track and out of the stadium, and then began the gradual 1.5+ mile climb up through campus. Right away I was pushing hard - I was nervous that I wouldn't get my heart rate up fast enough (ha!) but nervous that I wouldn't be able to maintain it. My legs felt like jelly for the first 1/4 mile, despite the warm up that we'd done.

But pretty soon we rounded the outside corner of the stadium, and I forgot all about the nervous legs. My heart was pounding, and I glanced down to see 149 on my HRM. Hoo boy - that was higher than I was planning, I tried to dial it back a hair, but it was a futile effort, because now it was time to head up up the stairs and over the pedestrian footbridge over Montlake Blvd. A short stint along the Burke (maybe 30 yards?) and then up the gravel path past Drumheller Fountain. This was a steady climb through campus, through the quad, around the buildings, downhill, then up again. The whole time there was a 10 or 12 year old kid just off my shoulder. He would surge and fade periodically throughout the race - coming around me on one side or the other. He would fade on the steep hills, then surge again on the downs (maybe he was smarter than I) but even when he was behind me, I could hear his labored breathing. We were suffering through this together.

Finally we came back to the fountain (Mile 2 - I'd started my watch again at the 1 Mile mark, and now it read 7:30) and turned right to head back down toward the stadium. One more mile to go - and I felt like I was dying. Back down the Burke and over the foot bridge - the steep down and turn and down the stairs was tough to navigate at speed with not much control. The the long slog around the stadium.

Turning back in, people around me started to surge. I didn't want to go too early - my 10 year old shadow cut past me on the sharp turn onto the final straight away. Darn it - I couldn't let him beat me! I put it all out there, sprinting, leaning forward, pushing across the final timing mat.

Phew! I really had nothing left - I had to gasp for a bit before I could walk over & take off my timing chip. I had managed to stop my watch - for the final 2.1 miles, I clocked 15:14. Ouch.

Eventually we met up with my brother & sister-in-law, and played with my niece Gabrielle on the field, and then headed down to U Village for brunch. We didn't hang out for the awards ceremony - even though I'd finished close behind Jason (whose watch read 21:32), I didn't figure with a field as big as this that either of us had a chance at placing.

I guess I learned my lesson. When the official splits were finally posted, color me surprised when I'd placed THIRD in my age group with a gun time of 22:32!! This even with the age group defined as 30-39 (as opposed to 30-34) and the 5K women's winner being in my age group! I was 21st woman overall -and only missed 20th by 2 seconds.

I guess this means I have to start listening to my Big Dog more often now....

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

A Lesson in Hill Repeats

Now that we're (almost officially) working with Jill, we get the joy of bi-weekly hill repeats. Every other Wednesday, following the 6 am spin class, a gaggle of folks makes their way from the club to the 40th street hill for 45-50 minutes of suffering that can only be derived from hill repeats. And I use the word "suffering" in the most light-hearted, positive way possible.

For the uninitiated, hill repeats consist of a slight warm-up, and then numerous repetitions (anywhere from 5-10) of a long, steady hill, starting easy and pushing through the top of the hill, recovering on the downhill, and starting all over again. The hill on 40th is probably about 3 or 4/10ths of a mile long, moderately steep, with a leveling off at the top. Jill's protocol is to start off easy, and then about 80% of the way to the top, pick up the pace and push through the flat section to the turnaround at the tree.

So we started off the morning with spin class. Rather than following the endurance ride format of class, I spent the hour doing a focused ride maintaining 85 rpm at AeT+20. Tough, but doable. But my legs weren't exactly fresh to start off the repeats. Then, a quick change to a dry shirt, and a roughly ¾ mile jog to the hill, and it was time to hit it.

Julie was already there doing repeats, and soon after we arrived, Jill & Joann showed up. Jill said "6 repeats" – oy. Plus the 1 on the way back to the club equals 7 total.

Well, the first one went really well, but each subsequent repeat was got harder, and seemingly longer. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) we didn't quite have time for all 6, since we both had an early meeting, but we did do 5. I already know that the more we do the repeats, the stronger I'll get. I won't say the easier the repeats will get, because they won't. They'll always be hard, they'll always hurt. But I will get stronger, potentially faster, and get to the top with a lower heart rate. I'm looking forward to that.

Of course, Jill let us know that over the next 8 months as we prep for IMCdA, we'll be adding to the number of repeats we do in a given workout, working up to 8, then 10, then putting 10 repeats at the mid-point of a 2 hour run. Whew – now that's suffering.

In the meantime, I'll settle for the short term benefits this will give me to kick some butt at SOMA.

Monday, October 16, 2006

Weekly Recap – Week ending 10/15

Monday's a rest day. Here's my training recap from last week:

Total Time: 11:21

Swim Distance: 7500 yards (4.26 miles)

Bike Distance: 66.85 miles (though I think this is a little low. Jason's GPS showed our ride on Saturday being longer than what my computer reflected..)

Run Distance: 22.8 miles

2 weeks till SOMA!