Okay, I was all psyched to tell you about my tandem bike ride with my husband through beautiful San Francisco but this blog is going to be me griping and moaning. One would think that I have enough on my plate health wise. I am not one to complain too much, hahahahahahahahaha, phew *wipes the tears out of her eyes*, okay I moan plenty, but I never have bitched about my lot in life and getting stuck with a potentially debilitating disease. I mourned the loss of my former self when I was diagnosed with MS at age 26. Let go all the things I thought might be and told myself I could curl up and wind up in a wheel chair or face the world and know I could be a better person then I was and forage onward. I chose the latter. I tried to live a better life, be a nicer person, you know the whole drill.
Fast forward 16 years and here I am in probably the best shape I have ever been in and I have to deal with high blood pressure. Not necessarily a huge thing, but I have been battling it for a bit and had it under control through diet and exercise the last few years. Not anymore. My last well woman visit, my BP teetered around 190/100. WTF?? Where is this coming from. My Dr., I absolutely LOVE him, told me to monitor it for a few months and call my GP if it didn't improve. Due to the fact that heart disease and high BP runs rampant in my family, both sides, I did as he asked. Well it didn't improve and hovered around 160/100, I finally cried uncle. I called my GP and made an appointment. When I went it was 190/110. I got put on Lisinopril an ACE inhibitor and diuretic. I asked my Dr. if I should be concerned being put on a diuretic with all of the training I do. He said absolutely not, he wanted me to keep at it. I brought up I had an 18 mile run scheduled for this Saturday, he told me not to worry. BALONEY! I went out for a ten miler with Brad 3 days after I started it and almost passed out. I thought I was going to die, literally. My blood pressure was 90/54 when I checked it when I got home. Okay, we slashed it in half in three days time, maybe that was a little excessive. I went out two days later for an easy three miles and I managed it. I was semi-okay. Today was supposed to be 4 miles, I managed to get through 3.5. I was trying to keep my pace around 10 minute miles, my long run pace, but I kept catching myself at my 5k pace 8 1/2 minute miles. But 3.5 miles and I was done. I will not even tell you what my stomach was like. It was not dissimilar to when I run long distance. That has never happened short distance, and sweat? I am sweating to the point where I leave drops when I come in, and a puddle on my chair. This all from a measly 3 miles and a little. I am calling said Dr. in the morning. This medicine is truly interfering with my training. My stamina is gone, I am tired all the time, my tummy is a mess, I had headaches, those have finally stopped, and I feel blechy. All of them are side effects for this supposedly benign medication my Dr. said would be fine for me. Not really.... Maybe I will run to his office, plop my sweaty butt down in his waiting room and show him how "fine" I am. How much it is okay to train on this medicine. I feel like all I worked for, all I have trained for these last almost 3 years is completely thrown out the door. I am frustrated and angry, and don't know what to do. Do I stop taking the medicine that is obviously needed, or do I keep taking it and throw my training out the door?? I need to be Solomon, once again, SOL. Not a man, not a king and not bible material why me?? Why not I guess is what he would tell me.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Clipped my own wings, but swam with the sharks...
Okay, I decided no for the Eagleman Half Iron. The reason was pretty simple really, I just wasn't willing to drive myself crazy trying to find the time to train and you can't fudge a Half Iron distance. A Sprint possibly, an Oly, maybe, but Half Iron no way, so I said no. I surprised myself with my decision, but was happy with it when all was said and done.
Two weeks ago my husband and I went out to San Francisco to do the Sharkfest Swim from Alcatraz. Quite frankly I was on the fence about that race until the minute I jumped out of the boat. Heck even when I hit the water I was second guessing, but I did it.
Let's rewind a bit here, we got to San Fran and it was glorious weather wise. It was 68 or so, no humidity, just wonderful. I got acquainted with our area, we were just a few very short blocks from Aquatic Park, where you picked up your packet and timing chip race morning and the race ended.
We got in on a Thursday and spent the day wandering around, Friday morning we went for our long run since we were going to miss it with the swim on Saturday. We wound up running 12 miles over the Golden Gate Bridge. It was beautiful, I saw a pod of dolphins frolicking beneath me as I crossed over, it was really something. Anyway, we finished up the run, and decided to go for a swim in Aquatic Park to get ready for the race the next day. I had heard tale of how cold the water was, and Brad thought it would be best to get in and know for ourselves. So we grabbed our wetsuits and headed over to swim. Brad went first while I sat with our stuff. Then it was my turn. I suit up, head over to the water's edge and I spy an older woman, perhaps mid 70's or older, in a bikini with a neoprene swim cap and a sun bonnet on. I politely asked if she had any tips for a green horn like me, a newbie to cold water like this, how to handle the initial HOLY SH*T this water is cold feeling. She laughed and we chatted for awhile. I like to think of her as the hint God sent for me to at least try this race out....I had been asking for a little divine intervention for the two weeks or so prior, anything that would let me know if I should even try this race or not. Lo and behold, she came to me the day before, with her words that still ring in my ears....She asked me if I was doing the Alcatraz race and I was honest with her. I told her I had my doubts, I doubted my ability to swim the distance, in the cold like that. I wasn't sure, I was scared of the sharks and the sea lions. She listened and nodded and said to me "Why on earth wouldn't you at least try it? There is plenty of support staff in kayaks, if you get in and decide it's not your day, roll on your back, put your arm in the air, and get help. Even the pros need help every now and again you know Sweetie." How true was that?? My mind was made up for the most part, I would at least try...
Saturday morning and the alarm is trilling in my head. Time to make the donuts, I get out of bed and into my swimsuit. We grab some breakfast, get our gear and head down to the race start for our timing chips and t-shirts. We meet some of the nicest and most interesting folks while we are waiting to walk to the ferries that will bring us behind Alcatraz. People giving tips on how to race the race because they have before, people from all over, France, Australia, England, Germany, Italy, every single state from the USA being represented. It was really something to experience. Then they start the parade of swimmers, 800 of us or so, to the ferries. Did I mention I am unusually quiet? You can always tell if I am nervous in a bad way when I don't say anything. When I get nervous about something silly and I know I really shouldn't be nervous, I talk a lot, yammer, yammer, yammer, make myself laugh at stupid stuff,hahahahaha, and go back to yammer, yammer, yammer then hahahaha, you get the idea. When I am really nervous over something big, I get stone quiet and stone faced. No expression, no mirth, nada, nothing, niente...
So I get on the ferry with my husband. We find a friend of ours who has done this race before and besides being a very nice person, she is one heck of a swimmer. She senses my nervousness and promises me I will make it and be okay. From someone who has done this race before, and in 36 minutes, I take her word. She obviously knows what she's talking about right? They start giving a briefing "the beaches to the north and south of the Bridge have been closed because of Great White sightings" stood out and everything else, I didn't hear.
Next thing you know, we are pulled behind Alcatraz, where the prisoners were once upon a time released to the prison grounds, and they are calling for us to line up to jump in. Three across, and whee! Into the water you go! It's about a 10 foot drop my husband said. Maybe it's so you piss yourself silly going down to warm yourself up when you hit the freezing water! Anyway, I think my husband saw the pure abject terror in my eyes because when we were up, he grabbed my hand and BANZAI! Off the boat I went. He said when my head popped back up, the look in my eyes made him duck, he thought I was going to punch someone! We started scrambling to the line of kayaks that made up the start, then we heard the first horn toot. That was the one minute warning. My husband offered to swim with me, but I told him to race his race and go on ahead, I would make my way. Then came the longer TTTTTTOOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTTT!!!! Off we went! Holy crapoli, can you say speed bag at the gym? Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots? Naked oil wrestling?? No, not really, just seeing if you were still with me...It was the most physical start to a race ever, my strategy? I stopped, let the tools pass me, got into my rhythm, and started my 1.5 mile trek. I have to admit, I stopped once or twice and turned around, amazed that Alcatraz was disappearing behind me more and more. I was struck by the thought, I am escaping, I am doing what many men died trying to do, and I was surviving.
I was never happier when I saw the boat with the huge orange buoys at the entrance of Aquatic park getting close enough to touch. Then it happened. I thought either a shark chomped my left calf or I got a bad leg cramp. Turned out to be the latter and I scoured through my head trying to remember what Brad said to do in case that ever happened to me. The first thing was DO NOT panic. It hurts like hell, yes, but don't start flailing and going crazy. I could have called for help, but I was at the entrance of the Park. The race was a mere 400 meters or so to the finish. I was not giving up! So I swam with one leg, there was a guy with one leg swimming, I thought that I could do that too. And so I did, I kicked with one leg only until the cramp started lessening, then I relied heavily on the rotation of my body more then my kicking to cut through the water. Before I knew it, I was at the beach, I stood up and whammo, fell to one knee, got up, fell to one knee again. It was a lot like Sr. Electa's First Holly Communion practices without her clicker, genuflecting before the Lord I was. Someone ran over and hoisted me up, I went up the few stairs, across the timing mat and TA DA I was done.
I finally found Brad through the throngs of people and we decided to go eat breakfast at our Hotel. That was the best darned bowl of oatmeal I have ever eaten. I did nothing for the rest of that day. I watched a movie while Brad slept and we planned our route for the bicycle ride we planned for the following day, through the Marin headlands, to Saulsilito, the Red Wood Forest, over the Golden Gate and back. That is a blog for another day though. I am tired all over again just thinking about my swim. But I escaped, I conquered the Rock and my fears, don't know which one was more satisfying...
Two weeks ago my husband and I went out to San Francisco to do the Sharkfest Swim from Alcatraz. Quite frankly I was on the fence about that race until the minute I jumped out of the boat. Heck even when I hit the water I was second guessing, but I did it.
Let's rewind a bit here, we got to San Fran and it was glorious weather wise. It was 68 or so, no humidity, just wonderful. I got acquainted with our area, we were just a few very short blocks from Aquatic Park, where you picked up your packet and timing chip race morning and the race ended.
We got in on a Thursday and spent the day wandering around, Friday morning we went for our long run since we were going to miss it with the swim on Saturday. We wound up running 12 miles over the Golden Gate Bridge. It was beautiful, I saw a pod of dolphins frolicking beneath me as I crossed over, it was really something. Anyway, we finished up the run, and decided to go for a swim in Aquatic Park to get ready for the race the next day. I had heard tale of how cold the water was, and Brad thought it would be best to get in and know for ourselves. So we grabbed our wetsuits and headed over to swim. Brad went first while I sat with our stuff. Then it was my turn. I suit up, head over to the water's edge and I spy an older woman, perhaps mid 70's or older, in a bikini with a neoprene swim cap and a sun bonnet on. I politely asked if she had any tips for a green horn like me, a newbie to cold water like this, how to handle the initial HOLY SH*T this water is cold feeling. She laughed and we chatted for awhile. I like to think of her as the hint God sent for me to at least try this race out....I had been asking for a little divine intervention for the two weeks or so prior, anything that would let me know if I should even try this race or not. Lo and behold, she came to me the day before, with her words that still ring in my ears....She asked me if I was doing the Alcatraz race and I was honest with her. I told her I had my doubts, I doubted my ability to swim the distance, in the cold like that. I wasn't sure, I was scared of the sharks and the sea lions. She listened and nodded and said to me "Why on earth wouldn't you at least try it? There is plenty of support staff in kayaks, if you get in and decide it's not your day, roll on your back, put your arm in the air, and get help. Even the pros need help every now and again you know Sweetie." How true was that?? My mind was made up for the most part, I would at least try...
Saturday morning and the alarm is trilling in my head. Time to make the donuts, I get out of bed and into my swimsuit. We grab some breakfast, get our gear and head down to the race start for our timing chips and t-shirts. We meet some of the nicest and most interesting folks while we are waiting to walk to the ferries that will bring us behind Alcatraz. People giving tips on how to race the race because they have before, people from all over, France, Australia, England, Germany, Italy, every single state from the USA being represented. It was really something to experience. Then they start the parade of swimmers, 800 of us or so, to the ferries. Did I mention I am unusually quiet? You can always tell if I am nervous in a bad way when I don't say anything. When I get nervous about something silly and I know I really shouldn't be nervous, I talk a lot, yammer, yammer, yammer, make myself laugh at stupid stuff,hahahahaha, and go back to yammer, yammer, yammer then hahahaha, you get the idea. When I am really nervous over something big, I get stone quiet and stone faced. No expression, no mirth, nada, nothing, niente...
So I get on the ferry with my husband. We find a friend of ours who has done this race before and besides being a very nice person, she is one heck of a swimmer. She senses my nervousness and promises me I will make it and be okay. From someone who has done this race before, and in 36 minutes, I take her word. She obviously knows what she's talking about right? They start giving a briefing "the beaches to the north and south of the Bridge have been closed because of Great White sightings" stood out and everything else, I didn't hear.
Next thing you know, we are pulled behind Alcatraz, where the prisoners were once upon a time released to the prison grounds, and they are calling for us to line up to jump in. Three across, and whee! Into the water you go! It's about a 10 foot drop my husband said. Maybe it's so you piss yourself silly going down to warm yourself up when you hit the freezing water! Anyway, I think my husband saw the pure abject terror in my eyes because when we were up, he grabbed my hand and BANZAI! Off the boat I went. He said when my head popped back up, the look in my eyes made him duck, he thought I was going to punch someone! We started scrambling to the line of kayaks that made up the start, then we heard the first horn toot. That was the one minute warning. My husband offered to swim with me, but I told him to race his race and go on ahead, I would make my way. Then came the longer TTTTTTOOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTTT!!!! Off we went! Holy crapoli, can you say speed bag at the gym? Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots? Naked oil wrestling?? No, not really, just seeing if you were still with me...It was the most physical start to a race ever, my strategy? I stopped, let the tools pass me, got into my rhythm, and started my 1.5 mile trek. I have to admit, I stopped once or twice and turned around, amazed that Alcatraz was disappearing behind me more and more. I was struck by the thought, I am escaping, I am doing what many men died trying to do, and I was surviving.
I was never happier when I saw the boat with the huge orange buoys at the entrance of Aquatic park getting close enough to touch. Then it happened. I thought either a shark chomped my left calf or I got a bad leg cramp. Turned out to be the latter and I scoured through my head trying to remember what Brad said to do in case that ever happened to me. The first thing was DO NOT panic. It hurts like hell, yes, but don't start flailing and going crazy. I could have called for help, but I was at the entrance of the Park. The race was a mere 400 meters or so to the finish. I was not giving up! So I swam with one leg, there was a guy with one leg swimming, I thought that I could do that too. And so I did, I kicked with one leg only until the cramp started lessening, then I relied heavily on the rotation of my body more then my kicking to cut through the water. Before I knew it, I was at the beach, I stood up and whammo, fell to one knee, got up, fell to one knee again. It was a lot like Sr. Electa's First Holly Communion practices without her clicker, genuflecting before the Lord I was. Someone ran over and hoisted me up, I went up the few stairs, across the timing mat and TA DA I was done.
I finally found Brad through the throngs of people and we decided to go eat breakfast at our Hotel. That was the best darned bowl of oatmeal I have ever eaten. I did nothing for the rest of that day. I watched a movie while Brad slept and we planned our route for the bicycle ride we planned for the following day, through the Marin headlands, to Saulsilito, the Red Wood Forest, over the Golden Gate and back. That is a blog for another day though. I am tired all over again just thinking about my swim. But I escaped, I conquered the Rock and my fears, don't know which one was more satisfying...
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Do I fly like an Eagle or stay at the nest?
Okay, my husband calls me at work today and asked a question I am still trying to decide on. Do I do the Eagleman 1/2 Ironman or do I stay at home like a mama eagle with her eaglets that weekend instead?
I had my ups and downs this season. My season started off pretty dismally with me barely surviving the Rockett's Landing Race, I limped home on that one. I butchered a simple sprint distance next. I finished in a pathetic hour and 21 minutes. Nothing to write home about.
Not all was that bad though. There were some shining spots like the MS 150. I actually did it and survived, more then I had even considered possible for me. I did my first half century ride, and did pretty okay. There was the 3 Sport Tri. I took over 5 minutes off of my hour and twenty one minute race. Same race course, different sponsor on that one, I did much better on the Three Sport Race. Then came my PR for the Cul-de-sac 5Ks. The first one was pretty normal for me, but the last two were way better. The last one came the day after the 3 Sport Race. I guess I was still pretty jazzed with getting a PR in my 5k during the triathlon that the enthusiasm carried into that race. I came 4 seconds away from breaking 26 minutes. If only I had made my way thru the racers better, I would have broken the 26....Then my NYC Tri results. I finished smack dab in the middle of my age group. But what pleased me was the fact that I took over 15 minutes off of my race time from last year and there were no jellyfish to contend with. I wish it wasn't so slick from the rain. I was VERY hesitant on my bike in spots and that cost me in the long run. I could have reached my 3 hour goal, but missed by 5 minutes. Next year I will break through that and finish in under three hours. The temperature being below 100 degrees definitely helped me. I ran the 10k in 58 minutes, only 3 minutes slower then my best stand alone 10k time.
Which brings me back to the question, do I want to do a half Ironman? I can do the swim now if I had to. The swim I did in the James this morning was killer long, and I was fine, even with limited sleep from being woken up by my kids through out the night. I was surprised when the hour was up. I know I can cycle for 56 miles, I have done it before, but I don't do it on a regular basis. I have done half marathons before, so I know I can run the distance. But the question is, can I put them all together? Am I prepared to spend over 6 hours of my life on a race it takes great athlete's four and five hours to complete? Do I have the time to train for such an event? Do I want to have this race at the start of my season?? I don't know, but I don't have loads of time to decide. This race fills up pretty quickly and it's sort of like do or die at this point.
I guess if I made these decisions quickly and with the confidence my husband has, I would have to rename my blog wouldn't I? Dee "The ready to take on any triathlon triathlete" just doesn't have the same ring to it. Oh, I don't know! But I will soon enough, then I might have to blog more because getting ready for a 1/2 Iron distance will have moments that will sooooo be worth blogging about! To be continued....
I had my ups and downs this season. My season started off pretty dismally with me barely surviving the Rockett's Landing Race, I limped home on that one. I butchered a simple sprint distance next. I finished in a pathetic hour and 21 minutes. Nothing to write home about.
Not all was that bad though. There were some shining spots like the MS 150. I actually did it and survived, more then I had even considered possible for me. I did my first half century ride, and did pretty okay. There was the 3 Sport Tri. I took over 5 minutes off of my hour and twenty one minute race. Same race course, different sponsor on that one, I did much better on the Three Sport Race. Then came my PR for the Cul-de-sac 5Ks. The first one was pretty normal for me, but the last two were way better. The last one came the day after the 3 Sport Race. I guess I was still pretty jazzed with getting a PR in my 5k during the triathlon that the enthusiasm carried into that race. I came 4 seconds away from breaking 26 minutes. If only I had made my way thru the racers better, I would have broken the 26....Then my NYC Tri results. I finished smack dab in the middle of my age group. But what pleased me was the fact that I took over 15 minutes off of my race time from last year and there were no jellyfish to contend with. I wish it wasn't so slick from the rain. I was VERY hesitant on my bike in spots and that cost me in the long run. I could have reached my 3 hour goal, but missed by 5 minutes. Next year I will break through that and finish in under three hours. The temperature being below 100 degrees definitely helped me. I ran the 10k in 58 minutes, only 3 minutes slower then my best stand alone 10k time.
Which brings me back to the question, do I want to do a half Ironman? I can do the swim now if I had to. The swim I did in the James this morning was killer long, and I was fine, even with limited sleep from being woken up by my kids through out the night. I was surprised when the hour was up. I know I can cycle for 56 miles, I have done it before, but I don't do it on a regular basis. I have done half marathons before, so I know I can run the distance. But the question is, can I put them all together? Am I prepared to spend over 6 hours of my life on a race it takes great athlete's four and five hours to complete? Do I have the time to train for such an event? Do I want to have this race at the start of my season?? I don't know, but I don't have loads of time to decide. This race fills up pretty quickly and it's sort of like do or die at this point.
I guess if I made these decisions quickly and with the confidence my husband has, I would have to rename my blog wouldn't I? Dee "The ready to take on any triathlon triathlete" just doesn't have the same ring to it. Oh, I don't know! But I will soon enough, then I might have to blog more because getting ready for a 1/2 Iron distance will have moments that will sooooo be worth blogging about! To be continued....
Friday, July 17, 2009
Still Not Sure What's Going On, But I Am Still Training
Yes I am still training, that would be why my rump hurts this morning. Yesterday I ran hills with my husband and one of my Marathon Team Training coaches, Shawn. He said he had a killer hill near where we live, he wasn't kidding. It made the one we ran up and down at the Grove like a bunch of undecided salmon seem positively tame. It is brutal, .2 miles of sheer, unadulterated steepness, that only gets steeper the last 50-75 feet at a time when your quads, hams and glutes are begging to stop, asking that you might take a break. When I say I almost barfed the last three repeats after that last little bit of distance, I am not kidding. Shawn teased me and said that would be reason enough for him to run the hills.
I don't know what I am hoping to accomplish by running these hills, get faster? I guess that's why my husband entered us in to the Cul-De-Sac 5K series. Two weeks ago we ran our first, I was a bit slow at the start because it was a mass start and I was in the back of the pack, but I finished in 27 minutes, 13 seconds. I made up time, and finished where I usually do for a 5k. The following week we ran the same route. I started more up front, but right before the start these old people got in front of me. Once again, I had to pick through to get to a spot where I could run without a bunch of people in front of me. I had to make up time. I kept checking my Garmin and I was running sub 9 minute miles the whole way which is good for me. I wound up running the 5k in 26 minutes and change, the seconds escape me, but I was 44seconds faster. Did I mention it was over 90 degrees while we were running and I felt like barfing? But it was my first triumph this particularly dismal race season for me. The first thing I did right I felt. I have never run a sub 27 minute 5K before.
If you remember my last pity post, I was bemoaning my swimming, if that's what you can call it. When I brought my girls to Tri team the Monday following my disaster in the James, their coach, Michael asked how I did. I was honest, told him how awful my swim was and he offered up he had an open water swim class at 6 in the morning on Wednesdays. I told Brad about it figuring nothing more would come of it, but where was I, 6am, two days later? That's right, poised on the bank of the James River, ready to jump in and swim for an hour. We signed up for a month worth of that torture. This past week was particularly good for me. I found my stroke, I was rotating at my hips, reaching long boat style, good form. During my 400M warm up I had a facial encounter with a fish. It swam right by my goggles and scared the crap out of me. The warm up was 400meters followed by a ladder workout. You kept increasing your pace until you were almost at race pace at the end.
We focused on speed and on not putting our feet down to recover. We had to tread water, boo! So we started with 50m repeats. Swim as hard as we could to the blue buoy. Our coach was waiting there in his kayak. Stop, recover for 30 seconds and do it again, we did that four times. Then we switched to 100m repeats. 4 of those, same as the 50's. You go down on the right side of the buoys, back to the left to avoid swimming head on into someone. Everyone wears brightly colored swim caps too, to avoid the head on thing as well. I was feeling great, I had started in group two, we were broken up into two groups according to speed, and wound up getting myself thrown in with group one I was swimming so well for my group. I was pleased, not too shabby I was thinking smugly to myself. I was on top of the world, then blam! I swam head on into something that grabbed me by my shoulders screaming, Are you okay? Are you okay? Some guy, without a swim cap, swimming out on the wrong side of the buoy totally punched me in the face while he was stroking. Now I know why I avoid bar room brawls. Getting punched in the face hurts like heck! My goggles jammed into my eye socket and I have a delightful bruise on my cheek, at least I don't have another black eye, ala trail running while training for the Bear Creek 10 miler... I finished up the work out, the water feeling good where my face was starting to swell. You know, I don't even do anything wrong, I had on my swim cap, I was siting properly, I was on the correct side of the buoy and I wind up getting hurt, why? Enough of that, I now return you to my regular blog....
The not putting your feet down to catch your breath, and resting like that was killer. But I did learn to tread water more efficiently. After our 100's we did
150's hooray!! Holy cow, I was spent. I was never more glad to hear our hour was up and it was time for us to do a cool down. I did 100m easy one. Switching strokes and really taking it easy. I couldn't wait to get out of the river and see my face, which, incidentally wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. The bruise is a pale brown and easily missed. But I felt pretty good about how I swam, so there's something.
I have been carrying on with my Wednesday night rides too. I did 22 this week as opposed to 25, the getting up at 4:45 to get to the swim on time, followed by a run while the girls are at tri team swim and doing the 25 mile ride that night takes some getting used to. A spread out tri through out the day. It's not the exertion as much as it's the early wake up!
So I have the Three Sport tri this weekend. A chance to redeem myself from my performance at the Shady Grove tri, same course, different sponsor, and the NYC Tri the next weekend. I am hoping to do way better there then I did last year. Last year, my bike was having gear issues, this year, Bonni is a happy girl!
I definitely have to blog about my favorite run of the year.It is coming up two days before the NYC Tri, the Underwear Run, where we will be going for a worlds record for number of people running in their skivvies! Look for the Pink Panther and Inspector Clousseau to make an appearance!
I don't know what I am hoping to accomplish by running these hills, get faster? I guess that's why my husband entered us in to the Cul-De-Sac 5K series. Two weeks ago we ran our first, I was a bit slow at the start because it was a mass start and I was in the back of the pack, but I finished in 27 minutes, 13 seconds. I made up time, and finished where I usually do for a 5k. The following week we ran the same route. I started more up front, but right before the start these old people got in front of me. Once again, I had to pick through to get to a spot where I could run without a bunch of people in front of me. I had to make up time. I kept checking my Garmin and I was running sub 9 minute miles the whole way which is good for me. I wound up running the 5k in 26 minutes and change, the seconds escape me, but I was 44seconds faster. Did I mention it was over 90 degrees while we were running and I felt like barfing? But it was my first triumph this particularly dismal race season for me. The first thing I did right I felt. I have never run a sub 27 minute 5K before.
If you remember my last pity post, I was bemoaning my swimming, if that's what you can call it. When I brought my girls to Tri team the Monday following my disaster in the James, their coach, Michael asked how I did. I was honest, told him how awful my swim was and he offered up he had an open water swim class at 6 in the morning on Wednesdays. I told Brad about it figuring nothing more would come of it, but where was I, 6am, two days later? That's right, poised on the bank of the James River, ready to jump in and swim for an hour. We signed up for a month worth of that torture. This past week was particularly good for me. I found my stroke, I was rotating at my hips, reaching long boat style, good form. During my 400M warm up I had a facial encounter with a fish. It swam right by my goggles and scared the crap out of me. The warm up was 400meters followed by a ladder workout. You kept increasing your pace until you were almost at race pace at the end.
We focused on speed and on not putting our feet down to recover. We had to tread water, boo! So we started with 50m repeats. Swim as hard as we could to the blue buoy. Our coach was waiting there in his kayak. Stop, recover for 30 seconds and do it again, we did that four times. Then we switched to 100m repeats. 4 of those, same as the 50's. You go down on the right side of the buoys, back to the left to avoid swimming head on into someone. Everyone wears brightly colored swim caps too, to avoid the head on thing as well. I was feeling great, I had started in group two, we were broken up into two groups according to speed, and wound up getting myself thrown in with group one I was swimming so well for my group. I was pleased, not too shabby I was thinking smugly to myself. I was on top of the world, then blam! I swam head on into something that grabbed me by my shoulders screaming, Are you okay? Are you okay? Some guy, without a swim cap, swimming out on the wrong side of the buoy totally punched me in the face while he was stroking. Now I know why I avoid bar room brawls. Getting punched in the face hurts like heck! My goggles jammed into my eye socket and I have a delightful bruise on my cheek, at least I don't have another black eye, ala trail running while training for the Bear Creek 10 miler... I finished up the work out, the water feeling good where my face was starting to swell. You know, I don't even do anything wrong, I had on my swim cap, I was siting properly, I was on the correct side of the buoy and I wind up getting hurt, why? Enough of that, I now return you to my regular blog....
The not putting your feet down to catch your breath, and resting like that was killer. But I did learn to tread water more efficiently. After our 100's we did
150's hooray!! Holy cow, I was spent. I was never more glad to hear our hour was up and it was time for us to do a cool down. I did 100m easy one. Switching strokes and really taking it easy. I couldn't wait to get out of the river and see my face, which, incidentally wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. The bruise is a pale brown and easily missed. But I felt pretty good about how I swam, so there's something.
I have been carrying on with my Wednesday night rides too. I did 22 this week as opposed to 25, the getting up at 4:45 to get to the swim on time, followed by a run while the girls are at tri team swim and doing the 25 mile ride that night takes some getting used to. A spread out tri through out the day. It's not the exertion as much as it's the early wake up!
So I have the Three Sport tri this weekend. A chance to redeem myself from my performance at the Shady Grove tri, same course, different sponsor, and the NYC Tri the next weekend. I am hoping to do way better there then I did last year. Last year, my bike was having gear issues, this year, Bonni is a happy girl!
I definitely have to blog about my favorite run of the year.It is coming up two days before the NYC Tri, the Underwear Run, where we will be going for a worlds record for number of people running in their skivvies! Look for the Pink Panther and Inspector Clousseau to make an appearance!
Monday, June 29, 2009
The I Wish Someone Else Filled in for me so I can still love the tavern tri post
Whew, that was a long one. But I needed a long title because only that could do my swim justice. I have been training, really I have, but you wouldn't know it by my performance this weekend. I wanted to be witty and off handed about how it took me 26 minutes in that endless pool called the James River that I had to swim in on Sunday. It was positively demoralizing when I got my results after this brutal excuse for a triathlon. I deluded myself into thinking I did okay after all was said and done. I did run better then my last triathlon, which isn't saying much. I just cannot get into the spirit of my blog and once again poke fun at myself after knowing I tried my absolute hardest and wound up placing where I did. I dunno, it is definitely food for thought. Do I carry on with training and trying or do I shelf everything and just turn away from doing tris for awhile. Just run for the health of it? Bike because I have made friends with a really nice group of people on my Wednesday night ride?
I don't know, I will keep you posted....
I don't know, I will keep you posted....
Saturday, June 20, 2009
My hairy belly after a hairy swim....
No, I don't really have hair on my belly, but I did yesterday after swimming in the James. The Tri Club has had to cancel every open water swim this year so far due to the weather or how the weather effected the James River. Technically speaking, last night should never have happened. The river was 2 feet higher then what it should be for safe swimming, and the current was really something. When we got to the swim site, all I could think is the water is the color of mud. It was silty and mucky. My skin started to crawl imagining having to get in. Then, as we are standing there a log goes floating by. Yes, a log. My husband joked and said it was an alligator, which I guess was his attempt at humor and trying to distract me. He saw the pure, abject terror in my eyes when I saw what the river looked like. Anyway, the nice man leading the swim runs down the rules etc. and tells us to start getting in, which the water was supposed to be 79, I beg to differ. As all of us start making our way down the ramp, into the mushy, soft, squishy, get between your toes silt that winds up going up to your knees before you can push off and start floating and stroking, we are all remarking that we should have had our wetsuits on. It was chilly, but I eventually got used to it. We can't start until everyone is in, and I notice we are all floating down current from the start. We start yelling at every one to hurry up and get in before we float away. They tell us to start and away we go. Grinding away into the current. Dory is singing in my head, Just keep swimming, just keep swimming....I am thinking to my big, bad self, this isn't bad. Look at me go, I am swimming just fine with this current. What were they talking about 22 minutes up into it and just 8 back? This is easy! As I am puffing up with pride like a blow fish, something suddenly sinks itself into my right thigh. I literally jumped up, still in swimming position, mid stroke screaming like a maniac, what got me?? What got me??? It was just my friend Jill, grabbing at my thigh to tell me after 10 minutes of swimming, we got nowhere. I looked at her like she was mentally deficient. I go, "what are you talking about Jill, I have been swimming for 10 minutes now", and then I look over my left shoulder. I am literally maybe 50-75 feet down from where we started. Listen, can you hear that??? That is the sound of my ego, deflating like a rubber raft with a puncture in it.....Okay, what is it they say to do, shorter, choppier strokes, less glide? I must have looked like an old school egg beater, I couldn't have looked like I was doing anything productive....Just keep swimming, just keep swimming....Which I am doing, wham! A floating branch hits me in the head. Not hard, but enough to startle the hell out of me. Okay, face back in, keep going, I get hit by an assortment of things, ginger ale bottles, coke bottles, and then I swim straight into someone. My sighting was pretty poor, I was grinding away, thankfully it was someone I knew. Finally the kayaker next to me said, time to turn around. I did, angled myself 45 degrees into the shore and it took me all of 4 minutes to get back. 4 freakin minutes to the 22 that it took me to go what, 250 meters if I was lucky?? Talk about making you feel like you have no clue what you are doing. I have been working on my swimming for 3 years now, and I felt like I had no freaking clue by the time I got out.
Anyway, when I got home, I felt like I needed a bath big time. I had the creepy crawlies. Now I know why. When I pulled my suit down, I was covered in a mat of brown "stuff". Sort of reminded me of this movie I saw when I was really little and people would get this brown fur and turn into werewolves afterwards, but there I was, looking like the next werewolf from the movie or at the very least I was from the East German's women's swim team. It was really awful. I had it on spots on my back, and truth be told, I couldn't stand the thought of looking any lower then my stomach. I did scrub myself wildly everywhere when I hit the shower, which I had on as hot as I could stand. The stuff coming off me on the shower floor was truly horrific.
I got out of the shower looking like I had crawled out of the lobster pot, but at least the hair was gone. If I had just used the mental brush in the shower to get rid of the memory of how I grew the fur in the first place....
Anyway, when I got home, I felt like I needed a bath big time. I had the creepy crawlies. Now I know why. When I pulled my suit down, I was covered in a mat of brown "stuff". Sort of reminded me of this movie I saw when I was really little and people would get this brown fur and turn into werewolves afterwards, but there I was, looking like the next werewolf from the movie or at the very least I was from the East German's women's swim team. It was really awful. I had it on spots on my back, and truth be told, I couldn't stand the thought of looking any lower then my stomach. I did scrub myself wildly everywhere when I hit the shower, which I had on as hot as I could stand. The stuff coming off me on the shower floor was truly horrific.
I got out of the shower looking like I had crawled out of the lobster pot, but at least the hair was gone. If I had just used the mental brush in the shower to get rid of the memory of how I grew the fur in the first place....
Monday, June 15, 2009
A Disappointing Power Sprint and Surviving the MS 150
Once again, a long time since the blog has been updated. Race season is in full swing and loads of stuff has been happening. After surviving the Rocketts Landing Duathlon, which I was still scarred from, I had the Power Sprint to look forward to. I had been training for it, but for whatever reason on race day things just didn't fall together the way they should have. I had a great swim, but I was held up twice by lap traffic, which once upon a time never bothered me, but this time it did. I know I can swim 300 meters in 6 minutes or better, but I got held up some and finished in 6:30. I have to say the bike leg was the best thing I did. I increased my speed considerably from last year and finished strong. My run was the thing that did me in. It actually took me 30 minutes to run the 5k *gasp*. Now I know I am no Kenyan when it comes to running, but it's a pretty poor state of affairs when turtles blow past you laughing their shells off. I don't know why I was so frickin slow, but there I was, like a car with three flats (which makes me think of that joke about when Pirelli tires go flat, daygo wop wop wop wop...well I went wop wop wop too must be the eye-talian in me). Finally, not too far from the end a guy I used to run with, Fred, started yelling at me I was running like a girl, which used to be a good thing once upon a time, but not so this day. I was running like a girl who forgot how to use her legs. That yell was good to hear though,it was like someone shocked me like that dog in Something About Mary, and I picked up my pace to where it should have been the last 2.5 miles before. I flew through the last part of my run, and finished my race in 1 hour 21 minutes. So disappointing for me, but I finished I guess. Not at all what I had hoped for but it was what it was. Oh to go back to that race, to just motivate myself more. Once again, it would have been enough to finish upright last year, but not so much this year. We did start Marathon Training team the day before too. It probably wasn't the best idea for me to run those 6 miles the day before. I can make a million excuses, the fact remains I was disappointed with my performance. I came in tied for 15th in my age group, out of 44, so I suppose it would have been good last year, but not this year, there's that mantra once again.
I did make mention of the Marathon Training team. I love it so far. My first run was okay, I hadn't been running 10k a lot, so it was good to have to. I am a Navy Team member, Brad started on Navy with me but quickly discovered his fruity side when he realized he was more Cranberry then Navy. He belongs with those rabbity types. I can't say I am with turtles or snails, but I am definitely not hopping along at a Cranberry pace. Anyway, I did get lost this last run. I couldn't figure out where the heck I was supposed to go and well I wound up doing almost 7 miles for a 6 mile run. Did I mention how amazing it is for me to be able to mention these distances like they're no big deal. I often sit back and think, is this really me? Who is this person who can talk about running 6 miles, or 8 like there's really no big thing involved?
I did miss my second Training team training session. I was busy riding the MS 150 with my team. Actually, I was busy chasing down my husband and team mates, they were way faster. I had never ridden farther then 50 miles. To do 150 miles in two days was daunting to say the least. I, and my bottom half, faced this with much trepidation....I didn't relish the thought of having sore girl parts, or heinie. I have to say my cyling shorts, Glide and Chamois Butt'r combination did alright for me. The free Cream Ale at the Williamsburg welcome did alright by me too! I did a majority of my ride by myself, I did hook up at the end of day 1 with this nice guy named George that reminded me of my Uncle John. He took pity on me grinding away by myself. But anyway, I survived the first 75, which was actually a bit longer then that, had a lovely evening dining with our Tri Club friends and I was out by 8:30PM. The next morning my stomach was in knots. I knew how tired I was from the day before and I thought how the heck am I going to do this back? I managed to find a fabulous little group to ride with, and the four of us had one heck of a good time throwing movie quotes out as we suffered along. I thanked God for my Granny ring on two hills, didn't have to walk my bike up any hills, and gained the respect of my riding friends because of how well I powered up the hills. I got to help some one suffering from the heat, draft off our local weatherman, and thank God for every pedal stroke that I could do what I was doing. I finished the second day in 6 hours. I spent 12 hours in the saddle over two days, made some really nifty friends as I rode, laughed a lot the second day, saw some beautiful country and wound up saying I rode 150+ miles in two days time. Not once was I dissatisfied, not once did "but not this year pop in my mind". Don't know if I will ever get faster then 6 hours each way and I don't think I care, not this year anyway.....
I did make mention of the Marathon Training team. I love it so far. My first run was okay, I hadn't been running 10k a lot, so it was good to have to. I am a Navy Team member, Brad started on Navy with me but quickly discovered his fruity side when he realized he was more Cranberry then Navy. He belongs with those rabbity types. I can't say I am with turtles or snails, but I am definitely not hopping along at a Cranberry pace. Anyway, I did get lost this last run. I couldn't figure out where the heck I was supposed to go and well I wound up doing almost 7 miles for a 6 mile run. Did I mention how amazing it is for me to be able to mention these distances like they're no big deal. I often sit back and think, is this really me? Who is this person who can talk about running 6 miles, or 8 like there's really no big thing involved?
I did miss my second Training team training session. I was busy riding the MS 150 with my team. Actually, I was busy chasing down my husband and team mates, they were way faster. I had never ridden farther then 50 miles. To do 150 miles in two days was daunting to say the least. I, and my bottom half, faced this with much trepidation....I didn't relish the thought of having sore girl parts, or heinie. I have to say my cyling shorts, Glide and Chamois Butt'r combination did alright for me. The free Cream Ale at the Williamsburg welcome did alright by me too! I did a majority of my ride by myself, I did hook up at the end of day 1 with this nice guy named George that reminded me of my Uncle John. He took pity on me grinding away by myself. But anyway, I survived the first 75, which was actually a bit longer then that, had a lovely evening dining with our Tri Club friends and I was out by 8:30PM. The next morning my stomach was in knots. I knew how tired I was from the day before and I thought how the heck am I going to do this back? I managed to find a fabulous little group to ride with, and the four of us had one heck of a good time throwing movie quotes out as we suffered along. I thanked God for my Granny ring on two hills, didn't have to walk my bike up any hills, and gained the respect of my riding friends because of how well I powered up the hills. I got to help some one suffering from the heat, draft off our local weatherman, and thank God for every pedal stroke that I could do what I was doing. I finished the second day in 6 hours. I spent 12 hours in the saddle over two days, made some really nifty friends as I rode, laughed a lot the second day, saw some beautiful country and wound up saying I rode 150+ miles in two days time. Not once was I dissatisfied, not once did "but not this year pop in my mind". Don't know if I will ever get faster then 6 hours each way and I don't think I care, not this year anyway.....
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