Just Keep Tri'n

Back in the Saddle

2006-11-17T21:11:00.001-08:00

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

Weekly Recap – Week Ending 11/12/06

2006-11-13T19:18:00.001-08:00

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.

2006-11-13T19:14:00.001-08:00

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?

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

2006-10-30T23:40:00.001-08:00

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 3^rd 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 1^st 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 2^nd 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 2^nd 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 2^nd 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 2^nd 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.

Oh yeah, the Weekly Recap - from Vegas

2006-10-25T19:01:00.000-07:00

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!

5K Pain - Dawg Dash Race Report

2006-10-23T13:52:00.000-07:00

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....

A Lesson in Hill Repeats

2006-10-18T21:22:00.001-07:00

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 40^th 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 40^th 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.

Weekly Recap – Week ending 10/15

2006-10-16T09:37:00.001-07:00

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!

The Last Big Weekend

2006-10-15T22:38:00.001-07:00

So this was our last big training weekend before SOMA. Two weeks from tonight, we'll have completed our first Half Ironman triathlon. Hopefully, if all goes well, we'll be relaxing (unconscious?) in our hotel room, tired but happy. But now, we're really down to brass tacks. While we'll do a 3 hour bike ride next weekend, there's no run off the bike, and not much for a long run on Sunday – probably only an hour or so. This was our last chance to put our bodies through the paces, so to speak, to see how we'll respond come race day, and to get some confidence.

It was a good weekend.

Saturday was another group ride with JFT². We did the Hollywood Hill loop again – 29 miles or so of steady climbs mixed in with some flat trail sections. Then off to ride Juanita Hill again, the Holmes Point Loop (oh goody, my favorite!) but then this time, back DOWN Juanita, and up 116^th Ave NE, back to 405, and then south on 124^th back to the Red Apple. The good news was that while Holmes Point was hard, it wasn't as debilitating as last week – I was even able to stay out of the smallest gear (in my middle ring, of course) AND shift up 2-3 gears as I crested the hill. Which, for the record, hurt like hell.

But once again, that wasn't the worst hill. While it was LONG, it's relatively steady and not incredibly steep. That honor went to 116^th. I've ridden down this hill, I've driven this hill. I knew it was steep. I didn't know how steep, and how long, it was, until we were on it. WOW. It was really, really hard. It hurt. It was so steep that I had to climb pretty much the whole thing out of the saddle – I wouldn't have been able to turn over the pedals if I was seated. I had to talk myself more than once into keeping going – the idea of stopping & walking was somewhat appealing – but not knowing that Jill was behind me! I knew I couldn't just stop & rest – the hill was steep enough, I'd never get going again. My only hope was that the hill would be over soon – funny, but I never considered dropping out of my middle ring.

After that, the steady climb up 124^th back to the Red Apple was pretty much a piece of cake. For whatever reason, I felt really good on the ride Saturday, and I was stoked about that. Once we got back to the Red Apple, I had to do a little convincing of Jason, but then we were off on our hour run through Bridle trails. By noon we noon we were done: a 3 ½ hour bike ride, and a 55 minute run.

Today (Sunday) was a long run – two hours on the schedule, which turned into a 2 ¼ hour slog through Bridle Trails with Jill in the pouring rain. It was great. This was an AeT run, so we were able to chat quite comfortably the whole time (except for the really big hill in the middle). Jill showed us the inner loop trail – we did two of those, and one of the outer loops and then headed back to Red Apple. Jill still had 1 more loop to go (she was doing a 3 hour loop) but frankly, while I could have kept on going if I had to, I was glad to be done. My feet were squishy in my shoes, and I was soaking wet. Back in the parking lot, a dry shirt, flip flops, and a hot latte from Starbucks, and I was feeling much better.

By this afternoon, it had stopped raining and things were starting to dry out.

It was a good weekend. SOMA, here we come.

Finding My AeT

2006-10-12T21:06:00.001-07:00

AeT, or Aerobic endurance threshold, is the point at which your body begins to open the anaerobic pathways. Knowing, and training below your AeT is critical to building aerobic and muscular endurance – enabling you to run, or bike, or swim longer and faster, and process fuel more efficiently. Lots of people have lots of research and opinions around AeT and heart rate zone training – Hadd, Joe Friel, and others, and have shown great results. It is somewhat counterintuitive: in order to get faster, you need to train slower – training at or below your AeT, which is typically the top of Zone 1, or 70% of your max heart rate. Most people train solidly in Zone 3, all the time. With consistent training at AeT, your AeT doesn't change, but you are able to increase your speed at that same heart rate.

There's actually a LOT to be gained from smart training, and training at AeT. Most triathlon training, in fact, focuses on zone training. So now that we're working with Jill, it's time to do a little better than guesstimate my heart rate zones.

For most people, figuring out heart rate zones is pretty straightforward with the use of a formula. But not for me. Why? Because I have a freakishly low heart rate. And I do mean freakish. Sure, my resting heart rate is low, but that's not really all that interesting. It's my max heart rate that is low – that makes things interesting. Most zones are built off of max, so really figuring out what mine is, is important.

Well, the 10K race this past weekend got us pretty close to that number. Jill's been crunching some numbers, and came up with a set of ranges for my zones, including a hypothesis about my AeT. Today's run was all about testing that hypothesis, to determine if we had the number about right.

The test consisted of an hour treadmill run. Based on my heart rates & pacing from the 10K, Jill suggested the following: warm up 10 minutes at 5.0 mph, then run the remaining 50 minutes at 6.0 mph, and see where my heart rate ends up at the end. Okay – no problem. But wow – 5.0 mph – S L O W….

Well, for the first 10 minutes I barely cracked 100 bpm (see, I told you my heart rate was freakishly low..). Then over the course of the subsequent 50 minutes, my heart rate floated around and between about 107 bpm up to about 116 bpm. Which, according to Jill, is just about right. She'd pegged my AeT at 113 bpm – roughly equivalent with 10 minute miles.

Which is all to say that I'm going to be spending a lot of time over the next several months leading up to IM CdA running a lot slower than I'm accustomed.

Guess I better charge my iPod.

Numb3rs

2006-10-12T18:48:00.000-07:00

So, you may have noticed from my last couple of post titles that I'm a bit of a numbers freak. I suppose that goes well with being a triathlete, but I track, monitor and manage numbers with some degree of obsession - just ask my husband. HR, distance, pace, level, laps, RPM - you name it, I'm pretty much watching it.

So it should come as no surprise that I'm also a bit of a geek when it comes to logging my workouts over time. I just get some pleasure from looking at what I've accomplished over the week, the month or longer.

With that said, here's my recap of last week - in the future, you'll probably see this on Mondays, as a summary of the previous week's efforts.

Weekly Recap - Week Ending 10/8
Run: 25.5 Miles
Bike 80 miles
Swim: 2.5 miles
Total Training Hours: 12

6.2 + 7 =

2006-10-08T21:50:00.000-07:00

Oh my god I'm tired. And I'm SOOOOO sore. But really, it's a good sore.

And I'm really, really happy.

First thing on the books this morning was the Issaquah Salmon Days 10K . Our running this race was designed to be a "test" for Jill, so that she could gauge our fitness level. We were given an "assigned" starting pace and an overall race strategy: keep it in Zone 3/Zone 4 for the first 2-3 miles, then really pick it up for the last 5 kilometers.

Jill's assigned pace for me was 8:20. I knew what I wanted to do with my HR, but I had no idea of if I could do 8:20s, let alone pick it up from there. I hadn't run fast, even on a treadmill, in a long time, save for one run I did with Jason, and I had no idea how 8:20s would feel. So my plan was to go off heart rate - to manage it for the first 5K, then kick it up from there and hold on as long as I could.

It ended up being a good strategy. Of course, I did what Jill told me not to do. I ended up pulling the first mile in 8:00, I pulled back just slightly from there, and basically maintained that pace through the first 3 miles. I hit Mile 3 at 24:23 (according to my watch). Now was the time to kick it into gear. I thought, if I can just negative split this, I'll beat 50:00 (my secret time goal).

For the next 3 miles, I focused on maintaining my heart rate, trying to stay relax, and slowly trying to pick off people in front of me. I reached the 5 mile mark at 39:30, and new that it was time to really fly. I tried to stick close to the people in front of me who were moving, plus I had the added distraction of weaving through the back of the pack of 5K'ers, who we'd now joined up with. With .2 miles to go, I gave it all I had - I was sooo glad to see the finish line!

48:49! Wow!

I have never run so fast in my life! Not only did I beat my secret time goal of 50:00, I beat 49 too! The 7:52 pace got me 4th in my age group, and 39th woman overall (although that was based on gun time, if placing was based on chip time, I would have been 37th woman overall).

The intense effort took alot out of me. But unfortunately our day wasn't over quite yet - as our plan called for a 2 hour run. We'd only done (roughly) one hour. So after a long shower and a (couple of) naps, Jason finally talked me into doing the second half of our run. 7 miles of hills around Phantom Lake.

Ouch.

Needless to say, our pace was significantly slower than our earlier run. We didn't even wear watches, much less heart rate monitors, so it was simple an RPE run. I'm sure we ended up running faster than we'd intended - roughly speaking, we were probably somewhere between 9:30 & 10:00 miles.

And that made for one really tired.... and sore... Char. And Jason.

Darn good thing Monday is a rest day.

60 Hilly Miles

2006-10-07T18:06:00.000-07:00

Today was group ride day for the Jill Fry Tri Team. That meant gathering in the pre-dawn hours (6:45 am to be exact, man the days are getting shorter already!!) in the Red-Apple parking lot, to begin a 2.5 - 4 hour ride. It was downright frigid this morning - the thermometer in the car read 47, and while in real degrees it was only a few notches colder than last week, even Doug agreed it FELT a WHOLE lot colder.

Starting with a long downhill to the trail, which was ensconced in fog, did nothing to warm us up. Like last week, I was almost begging for a hill to ride up, just so I could feel my fingers again. I think Jill plans it this way - it's her secret method to make us LOVE the hills.

So this week was a new experience for me, as it was over halfway through the ride last week when Jill discovered that my bike has a triple chain ring, and henceforth forbid me from riding in my granny gear. So today's ride was all about riding all the hills in my middle ring, and the flats in my big ring.

All in all, I was really pleased with how the ride went. The first 2.5 hours (@ 27 miles) was good, and aside from the cold, I didn't have any troubles. Jill took us on a slight detour to take a look at the 40th hill repeats hill, and then up an extra hill on 20th just for good measure. That one really hurt, but I did it, and made it back to the Red Apple parking lot. There we left Doug & Jessi, who were done for the day, and Jason, Jill and I continued on our ride. Jill wanted to ride longer, and Jason and I both had a long ride on the books, owing to our impending 1/2 Ironman.

So, it was down to Kirkland, and then up Juanita hill. Jill had to peel off at the fire station, as she needed to get back for her son's football game, but not before she told us about the route she was going to ride. This is where things got interesting...

At Jill's "recommendation" (though she did say, "it's really hard" - boy, she wasn't kidding!), we took a left at the fire station on Holmes Pt. Road. This took us on a nice little downhill recovery and along the water for a little bit. Pretty views. Then came the hard part - a long, twisting, ugly climb back up to Juanita - where it spit us out at the top of the hill. Not before chewing on us both for a while, however. I refused, however, to drop out of my middle ring - even though I really wanted to. I'm not sure it would have really done much good, frankly - this hill was going to be a mother, no matter what. This is building mental toughness, I kept telling myself. At least we got props from the team rider doing hill repeats on Juanita while we waited at the light - "you guys did the HARD hill" - no kidding.

So of course, this wasn't the end. We rode down Juanita & jumped on the Burke Gilman trail. We had options at this point - cruise back in to Redmond on the trail, or do Norway Hill again (the 2nd hill of our earlier loop) and then follow the same route back to the Red Apple. Now while we were riding Holmes Pt. Road, I was thinking, "I don't need to do Norway Hill again.." but once I was on the downhill, all that went away, and (forgetting how painful Norway Hill was the first time) I thought, "what the heck, let's do Norway. I'll probably regret this, but what the hey".

So off to Norway we went. And it hurt. ALOT. But I made it. In my middle ring. Wahoo!

Well, both Jason and I decided after this that we definitely DIDN'T need to do the long climb up 70th from the trail. So rather than taking the normal route back from Norway, we got over the freeway, and then cruised down 132nd to 124th. Then we took 124th straight south back to 70th, and the Red Apple. Of course, this was not without climbing either, but we made it.

By the time we got back to the car, we'd been on the bikes for 5:01 total (that included all our pit stops / talking time. It really amounted to 4 hours of ride time) for 60 miles. 60 really hilly miles. It was good.

We were supposed to then run an hour, but after all that climbing, I didn't quite have the mental toughness for that. And it was noon already, and we really needed to get back to the dogs. But I am pleased with my accomplishments for today: I rode every hill in my middle cog, and all the flats in my big cog. And I don't entirely feel like I'm going to die.

I'll save that for tomorrow after the 10K.

4:25 A.M.

2006-10-05T20:25:00.000-07:00

That's what time my alarm went off this morning. Now, I know there are thousands of triathletes (and others!) who rise at this hour every day. I also know I would regularly rise at that hour when I lived in Boise, in order to get a short run in before my 5:30 am appointment with my trainer. But it's been a LOOONG time.

And you know what, it wasn't so bad... I hit the snooze once (I know, bad habit) and then got up, started the coffee, fed the dogs, and got dressed for my swim. Wash face, brush teeth, contacts in. Eat 1/2 banana, grab coffee, out the door. Simple.

5:14 a.m. I got in the water and started my first laps. Today's schedule was 1:00 swim, 1:00 run. I actually went a bit over on the swim. I warmed up with a 50, 100, 200, and then a main set of 4x500. Then just to get to an even number, I finished off with 150 for a total of 2500 yards. 1:04:00

Unfortunately by the time I got changed and out to the treadmill, I didn't quite have enough time for a full hour run. I did get 50:00 quality time though - all below AeT which I was really happy about. It felt good, even though I still felt a smidge of fatigue in my legs from the 1:00 spin class yesterday.

On tap for tomorrow - another 1:00 swim. Yay. I'm really starting to like the swim. I'm still not any good at it, but at least I don't hate it anymore.

Running "In the Zone"

2006-10-03T20:57:00.000-07:00

This morning's plan was an hour run from our house. We have a 7.0 mile route that we LOVE that takes us a little longer than an hour, so that's what was on tap for today. Because a good part of the route is on trail, through woods, we really needed to wait for daylight, so that meant not actually starting our run till about 7:10. So be it.

The route follows the Lake to Lake trail, around Larsen Lake, out to Phantom Lake, around Phantom Lake, and then back. I love this route because it takes us away from traffic, and because the path around Phantom Lake is so beautiful, and so varied. The 2.6 mile loop that circles Phantom Lake also has 4 or 5 really good hills, and it feels really good to run strong through the whole route. Plus, the distance is the perfect amount to feel like you'e really gotten a good run, but its not so long that its not doable during the week.

So that was our route today. As evidenced by the ever-later sunrise, we're in the full grip of Fall, and it was overcast & brisk this morning- about 50 degrees. It was actually really quite nice running weather, and I was feeling very good. Luckily, I had my conscience, Jason, running along side me, reminding me to keep my effort in the Zone 1/ Zone 2 range, keeping our pace just under 10's.

Somedays when we run together, we chat the whole time. Somedays we chat intermittently. Somedays, we don't talk hardly at all - and today was one of those days. It seemed by the time we got around the lake and headed back that I could hardly remember having run the loop at all - I was in the "zone". I felt good, and my mind just wandered - it was almost as if I wasn't there. It was sort of meditative. I rarely get that feeling when I'm running (it happens all the time when I'm swimming, I think it has something to do with the sensory deprivation) but when I do, it can be so ...peaceful.

Black Diamond Race Report

2006-10-02T19:45:00.000-07:00

Okay, I know this post is WAY overdue. No excuses, here it is, my race report from my VERY FIRST tri - Black Diamond Oly. This race was a 1.5 km swim, a 40K bike (25 miles) and a 10K run.

Pre race: Saturday night we had a quiet night at home. We cooked chicken on the grill and some whole wheat pasta, and then sat in front of the TV and practiced changing tires on an extra bike wheel. Good thing we did that - you'll find out later. I'd already laid out all my gear & clothes for the race, so I would be ready to go in the morning.

My goals for the race were simple: stay calm, don't panic, just get it done. Timewise, my stretch goal was to finish in under 3:00, but I really didn't have a good idea of how my body would respond to stringing all three events together. So I didn't have any real expectations for the race - I just wanted to get this one under my belt.

Race morning: The alarm went off at 4:45 am, and after a quick shower, I tried to put some food in my stomach. Well, my stomach just wasn't having the cream of wheat (nerves I think) so I gave up and went to loading up the car. It was cold out, so I pulled on my knit cap and gloves, and we finally headed out at 6am. Packet pick-up started at 6:30, so I really wanted to get there early enough to get a parking spot in the park lot. We pulled in at about 6:40, and got one of the last spots (whew!). We hopped out to pick up our packets, get our bodies marked, and check out the swim course. I had to exchange my swim cap for the right color (even though they marked me as a woman, starting in the women's wave, they gave me a green cap, the color for the men's wave).

Then it was back to the car to get the bikes, pump up the tires, and put the race numbers on everything. Eventually, I headed into transition with my bike to set up my transition area. Finally, after a bunch of back & forths to the car (I'm really going to have to refine this whole getting set up before the race thing) we were ready to go in transition, and it was time to consider actually putting the wetsuits on.

I knew the water was going to be really cold, so a "warm up" / acclimatization swim was going to be crucial. At about 8:45, I finally had my wetsuit on, and it was time to leave transition. That was a little nerve racking - I hope I had everything ready! We went down to the water, and got in - BRRR! I got my head wet and let the water soak into my suit - then it was time to do some standing around & shivering waiting for my wave to start.

The men started first, so I kissed Jason good luck as he moved off into the water. The gun went off and they were gone, and I was alone in a sea of women. I got back into the water to get my head wet again, and then took a strategic spot in the back. Soon, we were off too, and more than once I thought to myself - WOW, I'm really doing this! Of course, I was also thinking, just breathe, relax, head down - relax. Finally by about the first buoy the swim spread out and I was able to really focus on my stroke & swim. I never got freaked out, never got too off course, and never really stopped swimming. Before I knew it I was through the second lap and headed back in to the beach, and then, I could see the sand on the bottom. When my hand hit, I stood up and pulled off my goggles. As I made my way up the hill and slowly began jogging toward transition, I looked at my watch. It said 35:xx - I was thrilled! Official swim split: 34:46

I peeled off my wet suit as I made my way to transition. The Pam vegetable spray I used before the race made all the difference - my wetsuit came right off! I put on my jersey, my socks & bike shoes, and threw on my helmet. I grabbed my nutrition, but forgot to grab my pump, grabbed my bike and ran out of transition. I felt like I was going as fast as I could, by my T1 time was slow: 5:10.

I got to the bike mount zone, hopped on and pedalled off through the parking lot. Something seemed not right, but I thought it was just me so I kept going. As I made the turn out of the lot and onto the road, I knew something wasn't right, so I pulled over, and hopped off to look at my bike. Sh*t! My rear time was COMPLETELY flat. I instinctively reached for my pump in my jersey pocket only to discover it wasn't there. Now I was really in trouble - I realized the only choice I had was to head back towards transition. I ran/jogged as quickly as I could in bike shoes, with my bike, back through the parking lot, asking somewhat desperately "does anybody have a pump?" Luckily just as I was about to get back to transition, some wonderful spectator finally answered me...

"I have a pump in my bag" - Oh, thank god!

I pumped up my tire as best I could (I even put some extra air in it, knowing that Jason would have said that I left it with way too low PSI). The spectator even offered for me to keep the pump for the bike leg should I have any more problems. We established a mechanism to return the pump, and I was back off on my bike. I don't know how much time I lost, but I would guess it was about 6 or 7 minutes. Thank goodness I didn't have the thought that I should replace the tube, as I would have lost more time. As it turned out, I didn't need to replace the tube - I only needed to have actually closed the valve after I topped off my tires before the race! Lesson learned there!

So I was finally off on the bike leg - with a racing heart and more than a bit of apprehension about what was going to happen with my bike. I tried to settle in and just focus on riding smooth and smart, and trying to get some nutrition in. The couple of bites of clif bar I took went down like big rocks, so from then on I focused on my bottle of Gu2O. I figured that, along with the flask I had for the run, ought to do me just fine. The bike leg went by quickly, and I started to pass people one by one. There were a couple of times I felt like I was riding by myself, but I could almost always see someone off in the distance in front of me. I rode strong for the entire race, and got down in my aero's as best for the last stretch back to the park. I was SO relieved to see the turn in, knowing that I'd made it through the bike leg without any further problems. Bike split: 1:29:01.

I got into transition and racked my bike as fast as I could - it was a little harder this time, as there were already bikes on the rack (Jason's included). I pulled off my helmet and jersey, changed my shoes, grabbed my hat and my flask and headed out. I felt like I was going fast, but T2 was still a little slow as far as things go: 2:29

When I headed out of T2, I felt like was the last one to be leaving. I knew when I looked at my watch and saw 2:10 as I got off my bike that my hopes of a 3:00 were out of reach - there was little chance of me running a 50:00 10K, so I just wanted to run strong and do the best I could. I was working hard to ease into the run and keep my HR at a manageable level - as I got out on the rode, I was happy to see it at 125.

As I passed the 1 mile mark I started to feel stronger, and shortly after I passed Jason going the other way on the course (with a great big smooch!), I passed my first person on the run. Things got better from there. Though I was fighting the need to use the porta-potty, I passed it up at mile 2 and kept on going. I passed more women on the rolling hills on the out and back, caught my "rabbit" and dropped her on the hill just after mile 4. I knew I was close now, so I just kept focusing on running strong, and picking off the runners in front of me. I continued to pass people on the final 1.4 miles around the lake, and even passed 2 people on the final hill in the last 1/2 mile. I could hear the announcer at the finish line, and when I saw Jason cheering me on, that was my chance to really put it into the sprint. I picked up, and then once again when I heard my brother cheering me on on the sidelines.

I sprinted across the finish line - final time: 3:07:16. Run split: 55:50.

Overall I was very pleased with my performance. I went into the race with very little expectations, and while I was disappointed that I didn't make my stretch time goal, I'm really thinking that without the flat, I would have been DARN close, if not under 3:00. And I came out of it without feeling wasted, so I knew that I could have gone a bit harder. I've got alot to learn, I know, about racing - which I'm really looking forward to learning from Jill. As far as learning experiences go, this was a pretty darn good one. I am hooked - I love triathlon! Onward to SOMA!

Tick Tock - Time Flies!

2006-09-21T18:15:00.000-07:00

Wow - has it really been THIS long since I've posted to my blog? I know I meant to blog more often - geez...

Well, here's to posting more frequently.

I'm engaging in a new journey folks, one that I thought I might as well take anyone along who cares to listen (or read). As I am immersing myself in a new organization and building a newcareer, I am also undertaking a personal challenge - I am training for Ironman Coeur d'Alene.

My triathlon "career", if you will, has barely just begun. My very first race, an Olympic distance, is this Sunday. My "A" race for this season, a 1/2 Ironman, is coming up at the end of October. I'm really, really enjoying my training, and I'm really wanting to take it to the next level. I've always been one to be up for a challenge, and Ironman was the next step.

So, I've hired a coach, and I'm ready to start the journey. Its going to be a long road over the next 9 months, but I'm so excited to see what I can do. And I'm LOVING how this makes me look, and more importantly, FEEL. I feel STRONG, I feel confident, I feel alive.

I hope you'll come along with me - I'll be using this space to chronicle my journey, my triumphs, my challenges and all the workouts along the way. Here we go - more coming soon!

Rediscovery

2006-06-22T08:05:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how, when we haven't done something for a while, our bodies so accurately remind us. You know, like when you go for a run after a 6 month hiatus, or lift weights for the first time in a while. We remember quite clearly how it used to feel - and it didn't hurt quite like this!

The phenomenon I'm referring to is called cognitive dissonance, when what we remember doesn't match up with reality. We remember our level of skill, aptitude and capability at an earlier time, and (foolishly) believe that we still have that, despite the passage of time. Trust me, muscle memory only goes so far. Go ahead, try to do a cartwheel - I dare you. Something as simple as a cartwheel, a feat we could reel off in multiple successions as 10 year olds, becomes quite a daunting task as a 25 or (ahem) 33 year old. Hand stands? Climbing trees? Forget it!

The whole concept of returning to an activity I was formally adept at becomes for me a process of rediscovery. How does this work for me now? Can I return to my former state, or is the goal really to define a new state? I think this is the case, as I try to fit my passion for running, reading, work, friends and family into the constructs of the new space and time that I am in.

Rediscovering who I am, what I'm all about, and how to balance all that is important to me is an interesting process, now that I finally feel like I have the capacity to engage in those things. Of course, I am mere hours into a new job, a new career. My sense, my hope and my intention is that this new career will contribute to my life and my interests, rather than take from it.

Time will tell.

On returning to blogging

2006-06-10T18:14:00.000-07:00

So you know you haven't blogged in a long, LONG time, when your friends drop you from their aggregator list. I know its been a long 6+ months since I posted (okay, 7 months) - so I can own up to the consequences. More posts will come to catch up on all (or at least some) of the changes that have transpired over the last half year, but this post is to explain the silence.

Have you ever had a time in your life when whatever it was you were doing required such a singular, all-consuming focus that it impacted your ability to participate in other areas of your life? Sometimes this all-consuming thing can be a positive - it could be training for a marathon, planning your own wedding, or going to graduate school. It becomes all that you talk about, you spend every moment thinking about it, and you take delight in the time and effort you put into it. Here the line between your ability and your desire to participate in other areas of your life becomes blurred - you take so much out of this thing that you are devoting yourself to, that you have less motivation (reason? need? and of course time) to engage in the other areas of your life.

Or this singular, all-consuming thing can be a negative. The time and effort put into it truly consume you - and rather than feeding your body, your intellect or your soul, it sucks you dry. Whatever remaining time you do have in your day is spent dreading doing the thing you must do, or recovering from it. This can be a relationship, an obligation, a job - perhaps the combination of all three.

For me, going to B-school was much like the former. I spent most (dare I say all?) my waking hours living and breathing the experience of b-school: classes, cases, teamwork, social events. I wanted to suck every experience there was to be had out of those 2 years. Yes, it inhibited my ability to participate in other areas of my life: workouts were sporadic at best, and the time I had to spend with my husband was often tinged with the b-school overtone. But those experiences fed me and sustained me through the long nights and hard work. I was learning, growing and changing. It was an exciting time, even on 3 hours sleep.

On the other hand, the last 6+ months have been more like the latter. When we returned to Seattle (more on that in a later post), I decided to try my hand at consulting, and joined the local office of a then national, now international, consultancy. Many people warned me about the challenges of transitioning from industry to consulting. I had no idea it would impact me on the level that it did. Sure, at the beginning things were fine - in fact it took a while to get ramped up just because of the holidays, etc. But once I finally was assigned a project and was out on the client site, the world as I knew it began to change. I quickly discovered that what I'd been advised by a good friend before I took the job was right - I don't suffer fools kindly, and I don't take well to having to execute an idea or solution with which I disagree. Yet that is often the role of the consultant.

Of course I've had many ups and downs - I tried my hardest to work through the learning curve, to mold myself into the consultant type: distance yourself from your work, don't invest too much of yourself in your product. But it was a losing battle. I was being sucked dry of every interesting, creative, positive thought. I all but stopped working out, partially because I was spending 15 hours a day working, and partially because when I did have time I had no motivation. I didn't have the energy to read, much less write. I had to make a change.

So that, dear readers, explains my silence. I am transitioning to a new job in the next few weeks, and working to regain my balance and my life. Look for more soon. Blog on!

My Next Big Thing - Rewind

2005-11-04T15:59:00.000-08:00

So back before the Marathon, I posted about My Next Big Thing. I talked about training goals and objectives, short term goals and long term goals, and specifically about Wildflower 2006. I even committed right then and there to doing Wildflower, perhaps one of, if not the toughest half-ironman distance triathlon.

Then of course, immediately after the Marathon I was all hung up on Marathons. When am I going to do my next one, spring? where? the states? LA? London? ooo - so many choices! London seemed like a fantastic idea - scheduled for the end of April, I could take it easy all of November and kick back into training mode in December / January. By going through a touring company, I could get guaranteed race entry & hotel for a fairly reasonable amount.

The best laid plans, they say.....

Then I got a phone call from my mom. "I'm engaged!"

Huh? You're what? Oh boy.... And the topper of it all is that she's set the date for her wedding for May 6, in Williamsburg, Virginia.

That pretty much kills London at the end of April, and definitely kills Wildflower. Oh well.

So I do believe that everything happens for a reason - clearly I wasn't meant to do either a spring marathon or Wildflower. I mean, I could still do a spring marathon, but I think we're going to dial back the training a tad, for now.

Tentatively, I would like to start doing Tris this summer. There's an Olympic distance tri in Moses Lake at the begining of June which should be a great place to start. And of course, the Pacific Crest Tri - with both Olympic distance and Half-Ironman distance is in Sun River, OR at the end of June. Both of those seem like viable options.

In the meantime, I've got my short term goals. And adding one more: to see how close to 1000 miles I can get for year. As of right now, I'm at 796.6 : just a little over 200 to go, with 7+ weeks remaining. We shall see....

It's Dead, Jim.

2005-11-04T15:26:00.000-08:00

Note to self: you can drop-kick your Mini off the treadmill, but do not, I repeat, do not get it sweaty. You'll kill it.

At least, that's what I did. And it is dead, truly, inexorably dead.

So I have this arm-band thingy for my mini - theoretically it works great to affix your mini to your upper arm for such high-bounce activities like running. It's a far superior solution to the belt clip, which works fine, but doesn't keep your mini from moving all around should you be doing anything more strenuous than walking. Unfortunately, the arm-band bugs the shit out of me... something about it being tight enough to keep the Mini in place, but too tight to feel comfortable. It must be my massive biceps ... (yeah right...)

Anyway - my simple solution on the treadmill is just to clip my mini to the cup holder. Works like a chap. However, several weeks ago I decided it was a lovely fall evening that I should take advantage of. One problem: what to do with the mini? I had no pockets (it would bounce in there anyway) and couldn't even find my arm band if I did want to use it.

So smart me, I thought, "Why don't I just clip it inside my shorts - that way, the lycra from my shorts will help to hold it in place!" So I turned it around, and clipped the belt-clip inside my shorts, with the Mini facing my stomach. I didn't for a second think it would be a problem, and off I went for a gorgeous 45 minute run.

It worked like a champ! No bouncing, no problem.

That is, until I got home. I took my Mini off, and found as I set it on the counter, that only the forward & reverse buttons on the Click-wheel were working. "Hmmm" I thought, "maybe it got a little damp - I'm sure when it dries off, all the buttons will work fine again...". Except that when it dried off, NONE of the buttons worked. It won't charge, it won't be recognized when I plug it into my iTunes, nothing.

It's dead, Jim.

Chalk it up to a lesson learned. Good thing HP is fire-selling all their branded versions.....

Women in Business

2005-10-25T20:04:00.000-07:00

During my tenure in Business School, I was a member of a plethora of student clubs. Some I was more active in than others. One club that I was at first hesitant to join, but in which I became an active member was Women in Business.

When I first thought about joining Women in Business, I was reluctant. First off, I am not a "girly girl", though I'm not unfeminine. I wear dresses and makeup, but I also lift weights, move boxes, pick up dog poop, and generally anything else that needs to be done. I prefer NOT to distinguish myself on the basis of my gender, and for that primary reason I thought, "why would I want to be part of a club that focuses on gender?"

But the fact of the matter is that I am a woman, and I am in business. Therefore, being a part of the Women in Business club, where networks and shared stories of the challenges and triumphs unique to women in business were cultivated made sense. It was perhaps one of the best moves I made. In fact, I discovered that I did have women friends: women who were strong, intelligent, courageous, aggressive and passionate. Women who weren't afraid to break a nail to get the job done. This was the network of women that I had been looking for. WiB cultivated opportunities for the women in both the 1st and 2nd year class to escape the confines of the school, to share who we really were as women, rather than as the stereotypes we were trying to be, through quarterly "retreats" often involving hiking, running, snowshoeing, wine & cheese, and the inescapable homework.

These retreats, unfortunately, made some of the men in our class quite uncomfortable. Despite the fact that it was stated repeatedly that men were welcome and encouraged to join WiB, and welcome and encouraged to attend a retreat, no one ever took us up on the offer. Instead, they felt it necessary to form their own version, calling it MiB, for Men in Breakfast. They met every Friday before class for breakfast & bloody mary's at the local greasy spoon - an email invitation would go out each week. Not only was it exclusionary specifically to ALL women in the class (even those, myself included, who would have counted themselves among the close friends of the male attendees), but also to specific, less popular, less conformist men in the class.

It stunk of the Old Boys Network to high heaven, and one of the most alarming factors was that our Class President Elect was not only active participant, but a vociferous defendent of the breakast. He saw nothing wrong with it, asserted (falsely and weakly) that women could attend (even though none were ever invited or included on the email list) and saw little reason for a WiB club to begin with. After all, women were basically on equal footing now, in his eyes. Even after I, and a close friend, made our forays into attending, it was clear that it was uncomfortable, and even our friends at the table were uncomfortable: for us and with us. We very, very clearly weren't welcome there.

Ultimately the issue received enough attention that the Pres stopped attending, and the breakfasts went underground. Which perhaps is worse. They still very definitely happened (every once in a while something would slip out) but it was very hush hush.

Which brings me to today. Right now I'm reading Naked Truth: A Working Woman's Manifesto on Business and What Really Matters by Margaret Heffernan. I wish this were required reading in business school. Many of the points she makes clearly demonstrate why women, after becoming the majority in undergraduate universities, representing nearly half of all law and medical school students, STILL represent only 33% or less of business school attendees. I'm only 1/4 of the way through the book, but I want to run right out and buy it for all the women in business I care about and give it to them for Christmas. I still might.

And I want to beat our MBA Class President over the head with it. I wish I'd had it to give to him to read then. I had such a difficult time making the argument to him about why the breakfasts were wrong at the time: I just knew in the pit of my stomach that they were wrong. And I took it personally: which it wasn't about me personally, it was that because of my gender I didn't belong.

It points out to me that I have so much to learn in how to handle myself and my work, how to deal with adversity and hostile environments, and how to recognize my own behavior that may be reinforcing negative treatment from male coworkers.

Heffernan is careful to assert that not all men are sexist or discriminating towards women, but the frightening truth about how pervasive and subversive sexism in the workplace remains is there. And learning to see and understand our own behaviors (men and women), conscious and unconscious, that contribute to an unbalanced workplace, is perhaps one of the best takeaways of the book.

Long Time, No Blog

2005-10-25T19:58:00.000-07:00

So it's been a little over 2 weeks since my last blog. Not that life has suddenly become so hectic that I didn't have time to blog - just, I think, that there was so much uncertainty that I just didn't feel like putting pen to paper (or in this case, fingers to keyboard). I just didn't want to commit my thoughts to a public forum.

BUT, I'm back. I'll do my best to catch up on all that's relevant. Lots has changed, lots has not. Life rolls on, whether we blog or not. Thank goodness....

Marathon #2 or The Saga of Southwest Airlines Flight 1539

2005-10-10T15:28:00.000-07:00

Who knew when Susan and Dean dropped us at the Southwest ticket counter on Sunday evening, that we would spend MORE time sitting in the Portland airport waiting to go home than we had spent out on the race course earlier that day?

Marathon #2 would begin at approximately 5:15 pm. We decided to check our bags so we didn't have to lug them through the airport (hey, we were really tired) and were pleasantly informed by the Southwest ticket agent that our 6:25 departing flight had been delayed an hour. Ugh.

Okay, no problem. Grab a beer and a snack in the airport bar, relax for a bit - no sweat. We caught up on some phone calls as we sipped our chilled Mirror Ponds and regaled our friends and families with tales from the marathon. After a couple of pints and a snack, it was time to head for the security line. We made it through at about 6:45 - perfect we thought for our 7:25 departure.

But it wasn't to be. Upon clearing Security, we check the departure boards. Flight 1539, departing out of Gate C15 now read departing at 8:05. Ugh again.

We sat down at a table to chat, rather than walking all the way to the gate, and put in a phone call to Susan. At this rate, she'd be back in Seattle before we even left Portland. And as I was talking to her on the cell phone, things got that much worse.

Jason checked the board again, and all of a sudden it seemed it went from 8:05 to a 10:15 departure. Ugh ugh ugh. Three and a half more hours sitting in the airport. When all we wanted to do was to take a hot bath and go to bed. We went down to the Gate to see if there were any other flights out. There was one Horizon flight leaving in 35 minutes - we could go check that one.

We boogied as fast as we could boogie at that point from Gate C15 to Gate A3 (oy!) to find that the flight was TOTALLY full, with a waiting list, and they wouldn't sell standby tickets anyway. Phooey. Our evening was destined to be spent waiting.

We hunkered down and did the best we could to get comfortable and get a little rest. I think I even snuck in a 45 minute nap - though it was hard to tell if I was really sleeping since I could still hear the kids screaming at the play area 50 feet away.

By the time it was all said and done, we didn't board an aircraft until 10:55 pm PST. We took off at 11:10 pm and landed in Boise (with the time change) at 1:10 am. As it turns out, the plane we were supposed to fly was delayed on take-off out of Las Vegas. When it landed in Reno, it had mechanical trouble - which they attempted to fix, but failed. Then it was a matter of waiting for a plane that was terminating in Reno that they could then send on to Boise. Those flights terminating didn't land until 8:30, then they had to be unloaded, cleaned and reloaded with the folks coming to Portland. And then the plane had to be turned again to head out to Boise.

I do feel bad for the flight crew. By the time they landed in Boise, they'd had a 12 hour day, and they were supposed to be back in the airport at 6:45am. Yuck. But I felt bad for us too - we were sore, still, and really, really tired. We got our bags and went home to our doggies. Luckily, Alana (the best housesitter in the world!) agreed to go back and hang with the pooches for a couple of hours in the evening upon hearing of our delay, so they weren't in their crates for too long.

By the time we said our hellos to the dogs and grabbed a quick soak in the tub (a definite necessity), lights out was 2:30 am. It was a very long day indeed.

Whew!

2005-10-10T14:26:00.000-07:00

26.2, in the bag. 4:31:29. Whew!

Really - what an amazing experience. Fun. Awesome. Long. Challenging. Exhilerating. Inspiring. Fulfilling. Addicting.

When's the next one? I'll start training as soon as I can walk again without grimacing. :)

We arrived in Portland on Friday night and grabbed a taxi over to the Portland Hilton. The Hilton was both where we were staying as well as Race Headquarters, so after checkin, running our bags over to our room (we were actually in the Executive Tower, which was kitty-corner to the main Hilton & Race HQ), we had exactly 13 minutes to shoot down to the Expo for packet pickup. There was hardly anybody down there, except for the 2 dozen or so volunteers (wow!), so getting our race numbers and timing chips was a breeze. We were even able to sneak over to the expo just as they were closing it to buy tickets to the bus tour of the course the next day. Score!

After that it was a nice mellow dinner in our hotel restaurant (something Italian - a single glass of red wine with dinner, it was good), and off to bed.

Saturday we woke up on our own - around 7 am. Down to the Starbucks to grab a latte & a croissant and back to the expo to check out all the sights and sales. Race expos are amazing - there are booths with running apparel, gear, shoes - you name it, you can buy it at the expo - and usually at really good prices. Of course, there was also the booths with the official drinks that were going to be on the course, Tylenol, the course photographers and other sorts (I loved the Marathon Geeks). We dropped some change on a couple of nice long sleeve running shirts (it is getting to be winter you know!) as well as some great Portland Marathon souvenirs. Got hopped up on the Gleukos drink (eww - that stuff is awful!) and generally just wandered around for a while.

After that, we still had plenty of time to kill before our noon bus tour, so we decided to stroll the 3 blocks from the hotel over to the start area, just to check things out. The volunteers were already busy putting up barricades & signs, balloons, etc. for the Start & Finish areas the next day. That done, we figured we could extend our tax free shopping (Oregon has no sales tax - yahoo!) at Nike Town to get J a pair of running pants for his birthday.

Off on the bus tour - this was definitely a well spent $10. It helps me tremendously to be able to see in my mind's eye where I am on the course and know what's coming ahead. Our tour guide, Scott, and bus driver, Chuck, kept the bemusing Portland facts and corny jokes coming through the 1.5 hour tour. There were also some great people on the bus - people from all over the country: Atlanta, Anchorage, Chicago - other places I can't remember. And while there were lots of us for whom this was our first marathon, there were also more than a few veterans on the bus. For one woman, Portland would be her 27th! Wow.

After that we decided to grab some lunch at our friendly neighborhood Taco Del Mar, and grab some down time in our hotel room. Susan & Dean showed up with some presents (a Marathon Geeks shirt for Jason) and touched base about the plans for Sunday. By then, it was practically time to meet Gavin and his friend Ravi for dinner. The line at the Macaroni Grill was enormously long (45 minute wait!) but luckily we were able to scoop to tables back to back in the bar with not much waiting at all.

Great company (we learned a bunch about homeopathic medicine from Ravi's sister, who's studying to be a doctor in Portland) and a good solid pasta dinner, and we were about ready to hit the hay. Last minute preps in the room (pin the race bib on the shirts, put the timing chips on the shoes, mix up the gu & water in the flasks, lay everything out) and it was lights out.

RACE DAY! Luckily the rain from the night before had departed by the time our alam went off at 5am and we woke up to dry skies and dry pavement. Temps were in the low 50s with overcast skies - just about as perfect as you could get. We had a quick sip of coffee & tried to make do with some super-watery cream of wheat for breakfast (mostly we ended up eating a banana and some clif bar) and it was time to head to the start line.

It was still dark when Gavin & Keith met us at our hotel and we started making our way with everyone else over to 4th & Main. It was chilly too - I was glad for the long sleeve t-shirt that Jason talked me in to wearing over my race outfit - I would be ready to ditch it on the side of the course before the 1/2 mile marker, but it served its purpose as we waited for the start. Jason, Gavin & I picked a spot midway between the 9:00 mile pace signs and 10:00 mile pace signs. Within 10 minutes we were packed in with people - which was a good thing because it helped to keep us warm.

A great rendition of the National Anthem (with the exception of the clueless volunteer back by the walkers making announcements over the microphone in the middle) and we were off. It only took us about a minute and a half to make our way to the actual start line, and on we went. The first mile or so was a total cluster as the crowd spread out, and again as we condensed down to go through the Chinese Gates. A bit of confusion on Marathon Avenue due to a bottleneck and big puddles from the previous night's rain, and then things started getting more sane. Mile 2 had people lining the streets, cheering, ringing cowbells, bands. The hill was no sweat and things really started to spread out as we headed into mile 3.

We finally saw Dean & Susan right after the 5 mile mark, and tossed them our gloves and Jason's hat. 50 yards later and I thought to myself - wow, that woman with the camera looks just like Susan - it was! She'd run down the side of the course (faster than I was going!) to get some more pictures of us.

Off into the industrial section - this was a long, somewhat boring out and back - at least after a while we could watch all the speedsters coming back on the other side of the road. They were haulin.

Miles 11, 12, 13 were great. Feeling good - a little bit of a long gradual climb through mile 12. Then back down some steep S-curves (caution!) and onto the long straightaway approach to the bridge. This was LONG. Really LONG. I stopped a couple times for a walk break - not more than a minute or so each time I think - just to give the legs a break. Finally, we were at the bridge. The climb to the bridge was long, but thanks to the bus tour, I knew we turned at the light, which I could see from the bottom. We were able to pass lots of people just by plodding up the hill. Up and over the bridge - it was really windy up there. Miles 18 - 20 seemed to pass as a blur - I remember they were hard, but that's about all I remember. I think the RedBull aid station was at Mile 19 - that helped.

Then, somewhere between mile 20 & 21, I got a nosebleed for no reason. This was more annoying than anything else, but it did cause us to walk for a couple of minutes while I tried to get it to stop. Then came the long downhill at 22 - and my left knee started complaining. The downhill was tough, and we took one walk break there. Then finally down at the bottom and on the flats, it started feeling better. We ran into Susan and Dean again here - and handed off our fuel belts. The flasks were empty, and I was ready to be free of the additional weight.

We passed the beer aid station between 24 and 25 - funny, but no way appealing. I just wanted to be done. I wish I'd been enjoying myself more at this point - but I was definitely working. Up and over the Steel Bridge to the 25 mile mark. I knew we were so close, but man that downhill tweaked my knee again. We grabbed some Ultima and water as we walked through the aid station, and then on again to put this thing to rest. Just keep going through the last mile - and finally we were making the turn on to Salmon - yahoo! People were cheering, yelling our names (thanks to them being printed on our race bibs), the fat lady singing - it was almost over. One more turn and there were the ballons and the timing mats. They announced our names and Jason grabbed my hand to raise it up in the victory sign as we crossed the finish line together.

What an amazing experience. In so many ways, I still can't believe we did a marathon. We did the finish area thing for about a 1/2 hour / 45 minutes - got some food, got our medals, shirts, roses & seedlings - one more picture in front of the balloons and it was time to hobble back to the hotel.

So cool to walk around Portland the rest of the day, to see all these other folks wearing the finishers shirts, their medals, to talk to people about the race. I was exhausted, but exhilerated. So, So Cool.

Cheers to the Portland Marathon folks and their entirely volunteer organization. They do an outstanding job. I'll be back.

Blessing and a Curse

2005-10-07T12:22:00.000-07:00

Selling your home can be an enormous undertaking. Depending on the market you're in, it can take as little as a day or as long as 90 (or more!). It's interesting, I think, how many people don't fully prep their house for sale: clear away all the clutter and knick knacks, take the magnets off the fridge, put away the kids' classroom art, and keep the house spotless. It shouldn't be surprising though - keeping your house that way is a LOT of work.

I should know - today is the 14th day we've had our house on the market. And everytime the phone rings, I catch my breath. It's a blessing and a curse. Blessing because more than likely its an agent calling to bring a client by to see the house. This, of course, is a good thing. You can't sell your house without people seeing it. It's also not so good a thing, though, because it means you need to pick up and vacate the house PDQ. Which, in the middle of the day when you're trying to "work from home", becomes somewhat of a nuisance.

So here we sit at the local coffee shop with free wifi, Rembrandts, waiting for the "all clear" sign to head back to the house. The toughest thing about that is that real estate agents are like the cable guy - they give you a 1-2 hour window during which they'll be by when in reality they're going to be in the house for a whopping 15 minutes at best, and then they're ALWAYS late.

The past 2 days, the phone has been eerily silent. No phone calls, no visits, no nothing. Hmmm. Today we're home working away (or in my case, not so much working), planning to do our packing for Portland this afternoon, when the phone rings. Agent. Coming by in 10 minutes. Yikes! Good thing the house cleaner was just here this morning. As we're doing the final sweep of the house (dishes in the dishwasher, pack up the laptops to head to the coffee shop, grab the dogs) *RING*! Another one - this time coming between 1:30 & 2:30. Okay - this is good. We want to sell the house - in fact, we need to sell the house. We just need to boogie home at 3 and pack, so we can get the heck outta dodge.

Here's hoping we sell the house soon - both so we can have sold the house and so we can go back to living in our house before we have to give it all up!

Marathon Advice

2005-10-06T11:42:00.000-07:00

from BOISERunWalk founder Steve Blake:

Intentionally plan on having fun, and focus on what has worked for you during your training distances. Get good sleep beginning several days prior. You might not sleep well the night prior.
Divide the race into five parts (adjust the miles to your liking):
1. slow warm-up for the first 6 miles. Going out slow enough to soak in the event, the people, the sounds, the excitement. Enjoy this stage of the race event as a party... a slow party of huge magnitude.
2. cruise control from 6 to 16. Hit a groove, settle into a sustainable, even pace where mind and body are in-sync, in a zone. Focus on smooth technique, stride, rhythm, heel-to-toe and monitor your breathing. You need a cruise pace that is smooth and easy for a solid 10 miles.
3. recalibrate from 16 through 22+. Now it's becoming work. Monitor your vitals, calculate your progress, run some numbers on energy and pain levels, and adjust up or down your pace... or keep it the same cruise pace. Recalibrate.
4. finish strong. Just how bad do you want this! Well guess what? You got it baby. It's all yours, you own it and you are the hero. Be the hero, and ask yourself what's important the last 5 miles, 4 miles, 3 miles, 2... 1.... Whatever you decide is important these last miles, drop the hammer at some point prior to the finish line, and finish strong!
5. Post-race..... you just crossed the finish line... now immediately find someone to hug, and spill the emotions of 27 weeks of training and 26.2 miles of guts and glory. Grab your water, and fruits and post-race food ASAP, and head back to the finish line to watch the drama of human endeavor unfold across the line, one athlete at a time. Cheer them on! Absorb the love and pain. Thank the Lord.

T Minus 3...Last Minute Preparations

2005-10-06T11:27:00.000-07:00

It's starting to come down to the wire on the marathon preparations. I'm long past the point of adding any fitness - so now's the time to rest, hydrate, fuel, stretch and make sure I've got all my gear ready.

I've been somewhat anxiously monitoring the weather forecast for Portland this weekend. The Portland marathon site proudly touts that it has only rained once on race day in the past 24 years, so when the forecast last week called for showers, I was a little worried. Of course, by now the forecast is ready partly cloudy with a high of 66 - near perfect. :) Let's just keep that going....

Now the question becomes what to wear? Shorts of course (and I know which pair) and a short sleeve shirt - a long sleeve would just get too hot over the course of the race. But looking at the hour by hour trends and the projected low for race day, its probably going to be in the upper 40s at race time, so gloves are definitely going to be in order. My plan is to pick up a couple pairs of cheapy lightweight running gloves today - the kind that are easy to tuck into the band of your Fuel Belt or even pitch on the side of the road if you so desire. One pair for me, one pair for Jason. I may even pick up some extra GU too - so that we have plenty to mix in our bottles.

Tomorrow I'll pack everything up - socks, shorts, tops, Body Glide (lots of Body Glide!), shoes (don't forget those!), hat / visor, gloves, GU, fuel belts & flasks, sunscreen. That's one thing I will definitely remember - after my experience on Robie Creek, I will make sure to wear sunscreen. You forget how long you will be out there on the course - and even if I'm not likely too see too much sun in Portland, I'm not going to take any chances. Also in the bag we'll make sure to have Band-aids, Ibuprofen, Rolaids (for Jason's tummy), and gum. I'll probably even bring my own bananas!

I'm feeling pretty ready. I've done 2 light jogs this week at marathon pace (9:30s ) and was able to keep my HR average at 120 bpm. Pretty good. Lots of stretching. I've been getting great sleep too - I went to bed at 10:30 last night and slept until 7 this morning - pretty much unheard of for me.

Found out this morning that my former sister-in-law Susan may come down to Portland to cheer us on. Susan's done Portland 3 times I think now - at least 2x and she did the Marine Corps marathon with her sister Mary last year. So it will be very cool to have someone we know on the sidelines and at the finish line.

I'm excited. I'm anxious. I'm ready. :)

My Next Big Thing

2005-10-03T19:51:00.000-07:00

As I referred to in an earlier post, I'm already working on the next "big thing" if you will, my next goal. There's a great article in this month's Runner's World about surviving the let-down after a big marathon and how to plan to keep yourself motivated. Sure, you need recovery time, but without a follow-on goal, its easy to lose motivation to train, and to lose the benefit of all that training.

So I have 2 levels of goal races, or actually 3. The first, most near term, is defined, but is a maybe dependent upon how I feel physically following the marathon. That being the City of Trees Half Marathon, on Sunday November 6. There are actually 2 half-marathons that I considered for following the marathon - both of which members of BOISERunWalk are training for: the Zeitgeist half and the City of Trees Half. Zeitgeist is on Saturday, November 5 and is VERY hilly, with 3 significant climbs. CoT is on Sunday November 6, but is a basically flat tour of downtown Boise in conjunction with the CoT full marathon. Both races are only 4 weeks after the marathon - hence the uncertainty - but the Zeitgeist race just seemed too aggressive, given the hills, and the fact that I haven't done any hill training (more fondly referred to as "specificity training" by Coach Mike). CoT seems more doable, barring any injuries (knock on wood).

My 2nd goal, also near term, is half for fun and half a challenge. It's a 5-mile "Turkey Trot" in Cleveland on Thanksgiving day, where we'll be visiting my dad. We did the Turkey Trot the last time we were in Cleveland on Thanksgiving back in 1997. The challenge this time is the reward: the first 50 men and the first 50 women will take home a free pumpkin pie. I'm going for the first 50 women. I don't know how much speed work I'll be able to get in between the marathon & Thanksgiving, but I'm thinking I should be able to be pretty darn close to 40:00 for the race (8:00 miles). We'll see.

The larger question is around my longer term goals. The first 2 will get me through the recovery month and get me to keep training. I know what I want to do next - I just haven't picked the race yet, not for certain. The next challenge is to conquer a triathlon. And like we did with Robie Creek, I'm not starting small. My (tentative) goal race is a half-ironman tri (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run) and one of the more challenging races: Wildflower in California May 5-7. Of course I know I'll need to get a sprint tri in there (at least) or maybe even an Olympic distance tri in there as practice, but I definitely want to try for the longer distance.

The trick is, I feel much less prepared to pull together a training plan for a triathlon than I do, or ever did, for a road race. Of course, I know there are tons of on-line resources (OnTri is a great one) and I have no fewer than 5 books on the subject here at home. Plus, I've got a couple of great resources as friends - my neighbor Jeff is a serious Ironman (he finished Ironman Canada in a smoking 10:36:-- WOW!) and my friend and cycling buddy Gina is a budding triathlete herself, having just completed her first Olympic distance tri at Emmett.

I know I can put one down on paper. I'd just really like to have a coach or trainer to help me be accountable too. Plus, I really need to take some swimming lessons. I mean, I took swimming lessons as a kid, but I hardly ever swim now, and I certainly never do laps - that's going to have to change. ;)

So there you go - it's out here. Wildflower 2006. Registration opens on December 1. I need to find some intermediate tris between now and then - probably in Seattle. Oh crap - May's not that far away! Maybe it will be Wildflower 2007.....nah!

My Pooper-Dupers

2005-10-03T13:41:00.000-07:00

I think its high time I share some photos of my sweet, lovable, overly-enthusiastic, lick-y, bed-hogging, shedding, sometimes stinky, sock-eating kids. And yes, I'm serious, my dogs are my kids. And yes, we have all sorts of silly, goofy names for them (like pooper-dupers) - too bad. And yes I talk to them - sometimes in a normal voice, and sometimes in that goofy, "you have no idea what I'm saying to you" voice.

My first and oldest, Frango (she's the one with the grey on her chin), came home to us at exactly 49 days old. She was the sweetest, cuddly-est puppy I knew - and she stole every bit of my and my husband's heart.

Dog number 2, Porter, came to us more recently, as an adolescent, but he has done no less to win all our hearts - including Frango's. Both dogs are pure-bred, AKC registered Labrador retrievers, both favoring the English (shorter, stockier, conformation) lines as opposed to American (taller, lankier, hunting) lines, though Porter is a better example of the "shovel-face" that we originally fell in love with. Luckily for her, Frango has a beautiful, feminine frame, while Porter sports the stocky, blocky look.

A little explanation on the names: for those of you not from Seattle or familiar with the now defunct Frederick & Nelson's department stores, Frangos were the chocolate truffle made & sold exclusively at F&N. When they went under, they sold the recipe & the rights to The Bon Marche, now Macy's, where Frangos have proliferated in numerous varieties. So Frango is the Seattle-specific equivalent of really yummy chocolate - hence the name for our chocolate lab. Porter, on the other hand, had already spent the first 15 months of his life with the unfortunate name of Kenny (my apologies to any Kennys out there). For us, that just wouldn't do. As a black lab, there were 2 viable candidates for his name: Guinness & Porter - because after all, what's more important in life than chocolate & beer? Porter, obviously, won out.

We have been truly blessed with both our dogs. They have fantastic temperaments, and have gotten along like 2 peas in a pod from the moment they met. I'll write more about both of them later - but for now you can enjoy this photo taken this past Sunday, October 2, 2005. The dogs said it was a great dog morning - with temps in the upper 40's it was just right for chasing the ball & the frisbee around the backyard.

The Last "Long" Run

2005-10-03T07:56:00.000-07:00

Jason and I logged our last "long" run before the marathon this past Saturday. I'm not sure it even qualified as long... we did 6 on the Greenbelt while our fellow BoiseRunWalkers were slogging through their final benchmark distance - 21.7 miles (or 35km for you non-US types) before the City of Trees Marathon. Six miles. Short - in fact, that's what I would do on a Monday (or longer sometimes) for a typical training run.

Six miles. When I started running again a year ago, six miles was somewhat infathomable. At least, if I were going to do 6, it would be an all out effort that would probably toast me for the rest of the day. Phew - 6 miles! Look at me now!

No really - look at me now. A little over a year ago (13 months to be exact), I started working out with my trainer, Trina. Trina is about the size of a 12 year old - 5'0", maybe 115 pounds soaking wet (and only because she's solid muscle) - Trina can pull 7:00 miles for distance. She's amazing. So when I started working out with her last September, I said I wanted to get back into running, to really get some base miles, to maybe train for a half marathon in a year or so, and to one day, maybe train for a marathon.

So Trina started me out training for a 5K. A ten-week training program for a 5K. For the non-runners out there, 5K is a popular "fun-run" distance - equaling 3.1 miles - that most can do in 30 minutes or so, and walkers can complete in under an hour. To tell you the truth, I was a little offended - I mean, I could already run 3 miles right then if I had to.

But Trina started me off right - smart, slow, consistent. The training program for the 5K consisted of 3-4 days / week of running - some days as little as 1.5 miles. But I would do a 5 minute warm up on the treadmill (which would get me to @ 1/2 mile) then get off, stretch, use the foam core roller (a GODSEND for IT bands & achilles) then go do the prescribed mileage, then do an equal cool down. It enabled me to get to 10-12 miles per week consistently - something I'd never really done. And believe it or not, over 10 weeks time, I went from running 10 minute miles to 9 minute miles. And racing just over 8 minute miles - in the 2004 Barber to Boise 5K, I actually placed SECOND IN MY AGE GROUP with a time of 25:34 (average 8:14 miles).

Now mind you, I've never placed in a race IN MY LIFE. So this was pretty cool.

After that, things got a little crazy. My husband had the bright idea of training for the Race to Robie Creek, well known as "The Toughest Half-Marathon in the Northwest". Now I'd heard of Robie Creek, and wanted to do it eventually - but for our first half marathon?? But we did it - with a LOT of help from our friends at Boise Fit. And before we even got to race day, I was thinking of the next battle - the Portland Marathon.

And here we are. T-minus 5 days and counting. Oy.

In the words of Martin Sheen, as President Jeb Bartlett, "What's next?"

Writer's Block - so soon?

2005-09-30T11:16:00.000-07:00

No post yesterday, and today I'm struggling with what I want to write about. Its not that I don't have alot of interesting things on my mind - its just that none of them have congealed (maybe gelled is a better word?) into a cohesive story for me to write about.

oy... I guess I'll just wait for them to bounce around a bit more until one bounces out.... :)

What's Best about Boise

2005-09-28T13:02:00.000-07:00

There are a lot of things about Boise that many would consider less than ideal. For one, it's in Idaho, that hotbed of liberalism and intellectualism (not!). Two, it's really a small town surrounded by farmlands, with unplanned commercial growth contributing to lousy traffic, little diversity and little culture. If you're not interested in the outdoors, there frankly isn't alot to do here.

Lucky for me though, there are a lot of other things that have made the Boise area (the Treasure Valley, as the geography is known) a great place to spend a year and a half or so.

First off, the weather is, by and large, outstanding. With 300 days of sunshine per year, Boise's weather seems to be the polar opposite of Seattle. In Seattle, when you can check the weather and get 5 straight pics of rain, in Boise you get 5 straight (or 10, 15?) days of sunshine. Jason and I always laugh when they show the 24 hour dopplar radar for Idaho - there's nothing there! Of course, it does get HOT in the summer (like, 103 degrees hot) and somewhat cold in the winter - but when the sun is shining, its hard to care.

Secondly, I do love to do things outdoors. I love to hike, bike, run - and Boise's a great place to do all of it. In fact, I've hooked up with an outstanding bunch of people to run with in Boise -formerly known as BoiseFit, the folks at BoiseRunWalk are truly a great group. We've got everything from a Masters record holder (who also runs ultras, mind you) to the Average Joe runner who just does it to be able to keep eating pizza and drinking beer. We've got some Hash House Harriers (those are drinkers with a running problem, for the uninitiated), racers, novices, experts, walkers, run-walkers, race-walkers and pretty much everything in between. We meet every Saturday for a long run, complete with water, Powerade and PortaPotties along the course (conceivably leading up to the Boise City of Trees Marathon in November) or some other race of your choice, but also are regaled with emails, discussion boards, speed workouts mid-week, sales at the local shoe store (The Athlete's Foot ROCKS!) and more. To top it all off, Steve, the Master of BOISERunWalk also arranges for free injury screenings and mini-massages following our long runs. And THEN, we all head off to the local coffee shop to sit in the sun and sip lattes. Ahh, the good life.

Another Best of Boise is our local meat market/deli/wine & cheese shop, The Porterhouse. From before we even moved to Idaho, walking into Porterhouse was like walking in to Cheers - it really is the corner meat market where everyone knows your name - and gives you shit about it too. :) But the guys at Porterhouse are great - they'll take the time to explain to you (and draw pictures too) the difference between a New York steak and a ribeye, what to look for in a good steak, and what wine would go best with your meal. You can even get a glass of wine if you time it right, a free taste of cheese and a good old hard time from Wayne too. They also carry all natural, antibiotic free meats raise through sustainable farming. You gotta love these guys. I just wish they had a "frequent shoppers" club - I swear we should have earned a free cow by now!

And last, but definitely not the least, one of the best things about Boise is the people. Real people, without pretensions, in most cases without agendas, who forge real friendships. These are the kind of people you can find everywhere, even in more metropolitan cities like Seattle, but they're a little harder to come by. From our friends at Porterhouse, to our friends at BoiseRunWalk, to our friends at the gym, from work, and from our neighborhood - the people we've met and bonded with are down to earth, authentic and sincere. I like these folks, and even though we've only been here a short time, there are more than a few people who've made an impact on me. People like Ray, like Kirk, like Trina (the Trinanator!) and Tony, like DJ and Walt, Tina, Ann, Jill, crazy Ironman Jeff... I could go on and on. When I stop and think about it, it really amazes me how little time it takes to really get connected with a place, and its people.

So I think that's what it comes down to - what's best about Boise are its people - even the Republican ones.

Switching Costs

2005-09-28T12:43:00.000-07:00

Anyone even remotely familiar with economics, competition, or even what's made Microsoft so successful is familiar with the concept of switching costs. Essentially, switching costs are incurred when a particular tool or technology becomes so entrenched that the cost to the customer to switch (in learning time, productivity, compatibility, etc) to a new tool or technology outweighs the benefit of switching. This is a technology company's dream.

Unfortunately for MSN Spaces, that was not the case for me. I've posted 1 blog there (my First!) but have to admit I was less than thrilled with the total appearance, and even less so with the fact that I kept experiencing a "catastrophic error" (Microsoft's words, not mine) when I would try to log back into the page.

So, Blogger, here I am. I have to admit, I almost didn't switch when I couldn't get my traditional user name. Unbelievably, charpopp was already taken. So was charpopp72 (is there another one of me out there??). That's okay - at least I could still use it for my blog address - and my user only matters to me.

Hopefully my first day experiences at Blogger will be better than MSN. And hopefully I can now escape the ridicule (or good natured ribbing) of my more experienced blogging friends.

Am I officially a blogger now?