I just came back from a 3 hour bike ride and the reality of just how out of shape I am is on my shoulders. I originally started with 9 other women and we were going to do a casual ride from San Jose and around the Morgan Hill reservoirs. I huffed and puffed my way up Bailey Road at about mile 5, fearful that my legs and lungs would turn against me at any moment. I made it up the hill, but at the first rest stop I told the other women to go on without me. I didn't want them to have to wait for me at every stop. So, I continued on and rode through Morgan Hill and the Coyote Creek Trail, all the while thinking, "I used to be able to do this faster and more efficiently." Not so much today. In fact, that first killer hill wasn't even that bad. I did it twice last year (once in a training ride and once in the San Jose Triathlon) without any problems. But today I felt like that scene in Knocked Up where Seth Rogan is taking a spin class ("I'm breathing like James Gandolphon over here.").
The truth is --- I have been a lazy, lazy girl. The winter is supposed to be about base training, strengthening your core and all that. The only thing I am strengthening are my fingers playing Guitar Hero. Plus---I have a major case of the Winter Squishies.
The Winter Squishies occur when one moves less, and eats more. What happens is that body parts that used to be firmer are now squishy. I mean, I know I am not going to be Heidi Klum or anything, but with this economy and all I don't think I can afford new (bigger) pants.
So now what? Do I need a goal? A race to sign up for? A commitment of working out a certain number of days a week and eating the FDA recommended servings of fruits and vegetables a day?
I will ponder this some more...and hopefully not eat anymore cookies.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Full Circle?
My last triathlon of 2008 was last Saturday in Catalina. Not my worst race, but not my best.
Let's do the whole full circle thing and show a side-by-side comparison of my FIRST 08 triathlon in March and then this one.
Swim:
Cal Poly Tri March 08 800 yard: 18:33 Catalina Tri 1/2 mile swim : 16:40
Bike:
Cal Poly 14 miles 1:10 Catalina Tri 9 miles 50:21
Run 3.1 miles 40:17 Catalina Tri 3 miles 35:29
Hmmm...what does all this mean? From numbers alone, it looks like not a whole lot of improvement was made in 8 months. But, when I look at some of the races sandwiches into those, I see a much stronger racer. My race results are like a richter scale: slow in the begining with peaks and valleys of improvement in the middle, then back to mediocre.
As I have mentioned before, it is time for a race break. I did sign up for Turkey Trot---but that has become my Thanksgiving Tradition. But now it is time for reflection on racing for 2009 as well as focusing my attention on other things, like painting the living room or cleaning the kitchen.
I feel like my foundation is there, but there is a missing link into making me a stronger athlete. So, this week I have gloriously not worked out and I think it will be a good time to refocus and recharge.
Any suggestions?
Let's do the whole full circle thing and show a side-by-side comparison of my FIRST 08 triathlon in March and then this one.
Swim:
Cal Poly Tri March 08 800 yard: 18:33 Catalina Tri 1/2 mile swim : 16:40
Bike:
Cal Poly 14 miles 1:10 Catalina Tri 9 miles 50:21
Run 3.1 miles 40:17 Catalina Tri 3 miles 35:29
Hmmm...what does all this mean? From numbers alone, it looks like not a whole lot of improvement was made in 8 months. But, when I look at some of the races sandwiches into those, I see a much stronger racer. My race results are like a richter scale: slow in the begining with peaks and valleys of improvement in the middle, then back to mediocre.
As I have mentioned before, it is time for a race break. I did sign up for Turkey Trot---but that has become my Thanksgiving Tradition. But now it is time for reflection on racing for 2009 as well as focusing my attention on other things, like painting the living room or cleaning the kitchen.
I feel like my foundation is there, but there is a missing link into making me a stronger athlete. So, this week I have gloriously not worked out and I think it will be a good time to refocus and recharge.
Any suggestions?
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
What is it about races that make it a more appealing hobby than, say, scrapbooking?
A couple weeks ago I was talking to a good friend about weekend plans. I told her that I was going to do the Nike 1/2 marathon and the Catalina triathlon a few weeks later. She then asked me:
"So, how many more of these things are you going to do?"
In all honesty, I was pretty miffed about this question. Though it may not have been her intention, the way she phrased it made it seem like races were just a phase for me. But the thing is, I hope that races aren't a phase. I hope to still be doing triathlons in my 70s and have my age proudly magic markered on my slightly liver-spotted calf.
My friend just didn't get it. So, I responded in a very adult-like fashion:
"I dunno, how many more times are you going to go to the mall and buy shoes?"
Ouch. OK, maybe that was a slightly passive-aggressive response. I never said I was perfect, right?
Perhaps my hyper-sensitivity to my racing being just a "thing" is that deep down I fear that it is a pointless thing to do. I have done over 10 races this year, spent probably more money on gear than my car is worth, sacrificed time with friends and family and tried to jam race t-shirts I will never wear in my overly stuffed dresser. I swim in disgusting water, have calloused feet and STILL can't run a sub 2 hour 1/2 marathon.
Why am I doing this?
What is it about races that make it a more appealing hobby than, say, scrapbooking or yoga?
I tell you why I do this:
Races force me to be a control freak.
2007 was not the greatest year for me. I turned 30 and went through my first layoff. The layoff was rough for me because I spent 3 years at this job, moving my way up the famous corporate ladder and finally found myself in a position where I enjoyed what I was doing and felt like a valued contributor to the company. And then that job security got ripped from me as abrupt and painful as Steve Carrel getting his chest waxed in the 40 year old Virgin.
I spent November and December of last year sending off resumes, trying to find a new career path (I was in the sub-prime mortgage industry---and we all know how that little tale ended) and ultimately felt like I had lost my wayand direction in life.
Then I found the Barb's Race triathlon on-line and signed up for a half ironman at the end of December of last year. I may not have known what I was going to do with my career, but at least I had something I could work towards: a goal, a challenge--something that forced me to test myself and gain the sense of completion.
Training for Barb's forced me to discipline myself in ways I hadn't done in a long time. I am a kind of "fly by the seat of my pants" gal and here I was plotting all my workouts on my personal and outlook calendars. I diligently did my brick workouts and put personal plans on hold so I could work toward my goal. Deep down I feared that maybe a half-ironman was aiming a little too high for me. Whenever I told people what I was doing, their reaction was of disbelief. So instead of facing my fears of failure, I took a different path: I signed up for more races. I think that I signed up for more races so I could be in a constant state of race chaos and not have time to think about the possibility of not finishing the half ironman I signed up for.
Two weeks before Barb's I experienced the quiet before the storm. I didn't do any races during those two weeks and I was forced to acknowledge that this race was really happening and I may or may not finish it. The fear of not completing the race was because for 8 months it was ALL I could talk about to anyone. It consumed my world. If I didn't do it, it must mean I was a big fat failure. So, on race day I jumped in the water at the start of the race determined to make it happen. Determined to finish this challenge.
And then I crashed my bike. Just like that, it was all over.
It is a bit ironic that I signed up for a big triathlon because I wanted control over something, but the end result was a lot like being layed off. I put my time in, worked hard and challenged myself, but something out of my control (i.e. crack in the road, subprime mortgage meltdown) changed everything.
Luckily, I was able to finish the Big Kahuna a month later. I was also able to find myself a new career path. I have learned through my training that things don't get done unless you have a clear path, and even if that path abruptly ends, you have to get through it.
I learned that failure isn't an excuse to not get back on the bike.
"So, how many more of these things are you going to do?"
In all honesty, I was pretty miffed about this question. Though it may not have been her intention, the way she phrased it made it seem like races were just a phase for me. But the thing is, I hope that races aren't a phase. I hope to still be doing triathlons in my 70s and have my age proudly magic markered on my slightly liver-spotted calf.
My friend just didn't get it. So, I responded in a very adult-like fashion:
"I dunno, how many more times are you going to go to the mall and buy shoes?"
Ouch. OK, maybe that was a slightly passive-aggressive response. I never said I was perfect, right?
Perhaps my hyper-sensitivity to my racing being just a "thing" is that deep down I fear that it is a pointless thing to do. I have done over 10 races this year, spent probably more money on gear than my car is worth, sacrificed time with friends and family and tried to jam race t-shirts I will never wear in my overly stuffed dresser. I swim in disgusting water, have calloused feet and STILL can't run a sub 2 hour 1/2 marathon.
Why am I doing this?
What is it about races that make it a more appealing hobby than, say, scrapbooking or yoga?
I tell you why I do this:
Races force me to be a control freak.
2007 was not the greatest year for me. I turned 30 and went through my first layoff. The layoff was rough for me because I spent 3 years at this job, moving my way up the famous corporate ladder and finally found myself in a position where I enjoyed what I was doing and felt like a valued contributor to the company. And then that job security got ripped from me as abrupt and painful as Steve Carrel getting his chest waxed in the 40 year old Virgin.
I spent November and December of last year sending off resumes, trying to find a new career path (I was in the sub-prime mortgage industry---and we all know how that little tale ended) and ultimately felt like I had lost my wayand direction in life.
Then I found the Barb's Race triathlon on-line and signed up for a half ironman at the end of December of last year. I may not have known what I was going to do with my career, but at least I had something I could work towards: a goal, a challenge--something that forced me to test myself and gain the sense of completion.
Training for Barb's forced me to discipline myself in ways I hadn't done in a long time. I am a kind of "fly by the seat of my pants" gal and here I was plotting all my workouts on my personal and outlook calendars. I diligently did my brick workouts and put personal plans on hold so I could work toward my goal. Deep down I feared that maybe a half-ironman was aiming a little too high for me. Whenever I told people what I was doing, their reaction was of disbelief. So instead of facing my fears of failure, I took a different path: I signed up for more races. I think that I signed up for more races so I could be in a constant state of race chaos and not have time to think about the possibility of not finishing the half ironman I signed up for.
Two weeks before Barb's I experienced the quiet before the storm. I didn't do any races during those two weeks and I was forced to acknowledge that this race was really happening and I may or may not finish it. The fear of not completing the race was because for 8 months it was ALL I could talk about to anyone. It consumed my world. If I didn't do it, it must mean I was a big fat failure. So, on race day I jumped in the water at the start of the race determined to make it happen. Determined to finish this challenge.
And then I crashed my bike. Just like that, it was all over.
It is a bit ironic that I signed up for a big triathlon because I wanted control over something, but the end result was a lot like being layed off. I put my time in, worked hard and challenged myself, but something out of my control (i.e. crack in the road, subprime mortgage meltdown) changed everything.
Luckily, I was able to finish the Big Kahuna a month later. I was also able to find myself a new career path. I have learned through my training that things don't get done unless you have a clear path, and even if that path abruptly ends, you have to get through it.
I learned that failure isn't an excuse to not get back on the bike.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
short and not super sweet
so...the nike women's 1/2 marathon was today. It was ok. It was my slowest half ever in my 2 1/2 year history. And that is OK. I think at mile 8 of a race I realized that this is not gonna be me PR and I had two choices: take walk breaks or keep trudging along.
I don't do walk breaks.
Here are my race lessons:
1) Don't assume that just because you have ran a 1/2 in 2:02, you can do it again without training. 31 year old bodies don't quite work that way.
2) Though the race was enjoyable, it was a little too Corporate America for my taste. Though Tiffany finisher necklaces wrapped in blue boxes with white bows, jamba juice smoothies and nike schwag are nice---it is rather off putting in these strange economic times. When I run because I am going to get all this "stuff," it overrides the true reason I run: it makes my soul feel good.
Props to the race organizers because it was well organized and efficient. I am glad I did this race because it is another one to check off.
I don't do walk breaks.
Here are my race lessons:
1) Don't assume that just because you have ran a 1/2 in 2:02, you can do it again without training. 31 year old bodies don't quite work that way.
2) Though the race was enjoyable, it was a little too Corporate America for my taste. Though Tiffany finisher necklaces wrapped in blue boxes with white bows, jamba juice smoothies and nike schwag are nice---it is rather off putting in these strange economic times. When I run because I am going to get all this "stuff," it overrides the true reason I run: it makes my soul feel good.
Props to the race organizers because it was well organized and efficient. I am glad I did this race because it is another one to check off.
Friday, October 17, 2008
A lot can happen over 7 months...
Sunday is the Nike Women's 1/2 Marathon. Yes, I was one of the very fortunate 20,000 women chosen at random by a lottery to participate. This is the 5th year of the marathon/1/2 marathon and it is definitely a "to do" race for Bay Area female athletes. This is the race where you get a tiffany finisher's necklace handed to you by SF firemen dressed in tuxedos. I actually have never done this race, but entered the lottery last March (about a month into my 1/2 iron training).
The problem with registering for a race seven months before the event is the fact that you don't know where you will be in the future. A lot can happen over 7 months. Take me, for example. Since March of 2008 I have: had a total career change into the non-profit world; trained for a crazy endurance event; found out what my core was and tortured it; bought my first house with the hubby; had a half marathon PR; raced another 1/2 a month later NINE minutes slower; became obsessed with Gossip Girl; swam to the Presidio from Alcatraz; went back to my (almost) natural hair color; completed 7 triathlons only to crash my bike at my BIG one and received a mild concussion mixed with my first DNF; and FINALLY finishing a half-ironman and now...
I am kinda tired.
Tired of moving. Tired of packing my tri-backpack and fretting over whether I packed the right shoes. Tired of eating weird food like chicken broth with sirachu sauce and peanut butter check mix the night before a race. I am wondering what the hack happened to my mojo.
Thursday I had my last workout of the year with coach Heidi and she (as usual) had very helpful words:
"I think you should take 6-8 weeks off from racing. And that includes training. You can do yoga, go for a bike ride...but you are raced out."
And she is so right.
Unfortunately...I have this Nike race on Sunday. And the Catalina triathlon in November. So, basically from November 8 to the end of the year I will be a race-free Jill.
At first I was doubtful. I always loved doing the Silicon Valley Turkey Trot. Would it be horrible to miss it this year?
The answer: of course not. Do I need ANOTHER turkey trot t-shirt? nah. If I really want to be a part of the race, I can always volunteer.
This Sunday's race, however, I have NO clue how it will go. My training has been either sporadic or non-existent. The last time I ran over 6 miles was at the Big Kahuna and that was more of moving my legs to avoid passing out then it was running. I have decided that this race will be my "casual attitude" race. I am not going to stress about it and just feel fortunate that my name was picked to run 13.1 miles for a tiffany necklace.
There are worse ways to spend a Sunday morning, right?
The problem with registering for a race seven months before the event is the fact that you don't know where you will be in the future. A lot can happen over 7 months. Take me, for example. Since March of 2008 I have: had a total career change into the non-profit world; trained for a crazy endurance event; found out what my core was and tortured it; bought my first house with the hubby; had a half marathon PR; raced another 1/2 a month later NINE minutes slower; became obsessed with Gossip Girl; swam to the Presidio from Alcatraz; went back to my (almost) natural hair color; completed 7 triathlons only to crash my bike at my BIG one and received a mild concussion mixed with my first DNF; and FINALLY finishing a half-ironman and now...
I am kinda tired.
Tired of moving. Tired of packing my tri-backpack and fretting over whether I packed the right shoes. Tired of eating weird food like chicken broth with sirachu sauce and peanut butter check mix the night before a race. I am wondering what the hack happened to my mojo.
Thursday I had my last workout of the year with coach Heidi and she (as usual) had very helpful words:
"I think you should take 6-8 weeks off from racing. And that includes training. You can do yoga, go for a bike ride...but you are raced out."
And she is so right.
Unfortunately...I have this Nike race on Sunday. And the Catalina triathlon in November. So, basically from November 8 to the end of the year I will be a race-free Jill.
At first I was doubtful. I always loved doing the Silicon Valley Turkey Trot. Would it be horrible to miss it this year?
The answer: of course not. Do I need ANOTHER turkey trot t-shirt? nah. If I really want to be a part of the race, I can always volunteer.
This Sunday's race, however, I have NO clue how it will go. My training has been either sporadic or non-existent. The last time I ran over 6 miles was at the Big Kahuna and that was more of moving my legs to avoid passing out then it was running. I have decided that this race will be my "casual attitude" race. I am not going to stress about it and just feel fortunate that my name was picked to run 13.1 miles for a tiffany necklace.
There are worse ways to spend a Sunday morning, right?
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Have I become Mr. Big?
On Sunday I did the Mermaid Triathlon in Santa Cruz. I was looking forward to this event because it is put on by the group who helped me train for my 1st half-iron. Mermaid events are awesome because they are all women, super supportive and you get great race t-shirts and finisher necklaces.
This race, however, was not my best effort.
I don't know what the heck is going on with me---but my motivation is not as present as it has been in the past. Since the Big Kahuna 3 weeks ago, my training has been pretty non-existent. I just look at my bike and think, "ugh!" Isn't that terrible? I am like a bad boyfriend. I loved my bike when it was shiny and new and jazzed it up with pink handlebars and accessories. I worked hard to get better, but I didn't work as hard as I should have. I didn't take the time to get to know my bike, to know how to ride it safely. And once things got rough and I had a bad bike crash, my feelings for my bike started to fade.
Have I become Mr. Big and is my bike Carrie?
Anyways--back to Sunday's race. My coach suggested I sign up for the Mighty Mermaid which is the same course, but you do it twice. Of course I signed up for it because I am stupid and do things without thinking about them. That is how I found myself jumping off a ferry near Alcatraz.
Here are some highlights from this race:
1) Swim was good. I didn't maul any sea life this time. Doing the course the second time is kind of strange. I had to exit the ocean, run under the pier and then jump back in. I miscalculated the depth of the water and landed on the sand. ouch.
2) You have to run up a bunch of stairs to get to the bike transition after the swim. THAT SUCKED! It must have been 180 stairs. ugh!
3) The hills on the bike were tough but I powered through them. I still hate that feeling of finishing the bike and seeing all the other bikes on the rack. Oh well.
4) The run was ok---I just didn't have my fire. Where did my speed go?
Fortunately I didn't set unreasonable goals for this race. I wanted to have a good time, cheer my friends on and be inspired by women of all ages and sizes challenging themselves.
I have decided that my last triathlon of 2008 (Catalina in November) is going to be the race where I push myself. I am ready to finish strong and fast!
So...that pretty much means peeling myself off the couch. Rats.
This race, however, was not my best effort.
I don't know what the heck is going on with me---but my motivation is not as present as it has been in the past. Since the Big Kahuna 3 weeks ago, my training has been pretty non-existent. I just look at my bike and think, "ugh!" Isn't that terrible? I am like a bad boyfriend. I loved my bike when it was shiny and new and jazzed it up with pink handlebars and accessories. I worked hard to get better, but I didn't work as hard as I should have. I didn't take the time to get to know my bike, to know how to ride it safely. And once things got rough and I had a bad bike crash, my feelings for my bike started to fade.
Have I become Mr. Big and is my bike Carrie?
Anyways--back to Sunday's race. My coach suggested I sign up for the Mighty Mermaid which is the same course, but you do it twice. Of course I signed up for it because I am stupid and do things without thinking about them. That is how I found myself jumping off a ferry near Alcatraz.
Here are some highlights from this race:
1) Swim was good. I didn't maul any sea life this time. Doing the course the second time is kind of strange. I had to exit the ocean, run under the pier and then jump back in. I miscalculated the depth of the water and landed on the sand. ouch.
2) You have to run up a bunch of stairs to get to the bike transition after the swim. THAT SUCKED! It must have been 180 stairs. ugh!
3) The hills on the bike were tough but I powered through them. I still hate that feeling of finishing the bike and seeing all the other bikes on the rack. Oh well.
4) The run was ok---I just didn't have my fire. Where did my speed go?
Fortunately I didn't set unreasonable goals for this race. I wanted to have a good time, cheer my friends on and be inspired by women of all ages and sizes challenging themselves.
I have decided that my last triathlon of 2008 (Catalina in November) is going to be the race where I push myself. I am ready to finish strong and fast!
So...that pretty much means peeling myself off the couch. Rats.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
It is one thing for ME to doubt myself...
Now that the tri racing season is almost over, I have to think about what my next goal is. I talked to my coach yesterday about my frustrations of being a sucky cyclist. Her suggestion?
"I think you should take up mountain biking!"
After I stopped laughing in my head, I though: "uh---heck no."
I had no, I repeat, NO desire to ever get on a mountain bike. I watched the Exterra Tahoe triathlon on TV last year and watching the cyclists tear through single tracks made me almost yack. I am a bona fide klutz who knows her limitations.
But then my coach went on to tell me that on a mountain bike, you really have to trust yourself because if you stop trusting your body, then you go down. She reasoned that it would really improve my confidence on the bike.
"Would it?" I thought to myself.
And then the seed was planted...the same type of seed that made me sign up for Alcatraz. That seed is evil, I tell you.
But would we have room in our garage for ANOTHER bike? Then I started thinking about how much cuter mountain bike clothes are than road cycling. I was already envisioning myself all decked out in REI's fall fashions.
I let the idea marinate overnight and then I told Dennis.
"Heidi thinks if I pick up mountain biking it will make me a stronger cyclist."
His eyes kinda bugged out of his face, which I anticpated. That is the "Jill has one of her crazy ideas" faces. (I wonder if we are a Lucy and Ricky for the millennium).
He coughed, "Uh yeah....I am not sure about that....you will probably hurt yourself."
Oh.No.He.Did.Not.
It is one thing for ME to doubt myself, but when someone else doubts it---I just want to do it even more.
Later this morning, I sent him an e-mail:
"I hope you realize that you doubting I can mountain bike only eggs me on."
He wrote back:
"Ha ha...I already looked up some women's mountain bikes this morning."
I smiled at the words on my monitor.
Millenium Lucy loves her Ricky. He eventually comes around and is her biggest supporter.
"I think you should take up mountain biking!"
After I stopped laughing in my head, I though: "uh---heck no."
I had no, I repeat, NO desire to ever get on a mountain bike. I watched the Exterra Tahoe triathlon on TV last year and watching the cyclists tear through single tracks made me almost yack. I am a bona fide klutz who knows her limitations.
But then my coach went on to tell me that on a mountain bike, you really have to trust yourself because if you stop trusting your body, then you go down. She reasoned that it would really improve my confidence on the bike.
"Would it?" I thought to myself.
And then the seed was planted...the same type of seed that made me sign up for Alcatraz. That seed is evil, I tell you.
But would we have room in our garage for ANOTHER bike? Then I started thinking about how much cuter mountain bike clothes are than road cycling. I was already envisioning myself all decked out in REI's fall fashions.
I let the idea marinate overnight and then I told Dennis.
"Heidi thinks if I pick up mountain biking it will make me a stronger cyclist."
His eyes kinda bugged out of his face, which I anticpated. That is the "Jill has one of her crazy ideas" faces. (I wonder if we are a Lucy and Ricky for the millennium).
He coughed, "Uh yeah....I am not sure about that....you will probably hurt yourself."
Oh.No.He.Did.Not.
It is one thing for ME to doubt myself, but when someone else doubts it---I just want to do it even more.
Later this morning, I sent him an e-mail:
"I hope you realize that you doubting I can mountain bike only eggs me on."
He wrote back:
"Ha ha...I already looked up some women's mountain bikes this morning."
I smiled at the words on my monitor.
Millenium Lucy loves her Ricky. He eventually comes around and is her biggest supporter.
Monday, September 8, 2008
What next?
So, it is over. 7 months (9 if you count when I registered for the race), 2 bike helmets, 2 pairs of shoes, 7 race swim caps, one bike crash and mild concussion and I finally finished my first half-ironman yesterday. How do I feel? In all honesty---relief, mixed with mild disappointment. I liken finishing the race to graduating high school. There was all of this preparation, anticipation, buying of special outfits but when it is all over, I just think two things:
“I could have done it better.”
And:
“What next?”
Except, the day after graduating high school I didn’t feel like I got hit by a bus.
Three weeks ago I signed up for Big Kahuna triathlon in
I came to the race in a totally uncharacteristic fashion. Usually racing is the one time I get a little type A---specifically triathlons. The multi-sports mean you have to have everything packed and ready to go for swimming, running and cycling. My biggest fear is that I am getting my transition ready and I pull out two left running shoes. If you know me well, you know this is a big possibility.
At the Kahuna, the only time I got mildly OCD was when I couldn’t find my helmet number. Other than that, I was pretty calm and collected. I only had two goals: not to bite it on the bike and to finish before they closed the race.
So, here are some key points to my race, from start to finish.
1) Jumping in the ocean at sunrise in
2) Clawing through slimy seaweed, however, is not.
3) ¾ of the way through the swim I smacked a fellow swimmer on accident. Except when I looked up, I realized it was a seal.
4) Whoever designed the transition from swim to bike at this race is a cruel person. Running barefoot ½ mile on
5) When you take time off from cycling---the crotch is the first to go. The bike ride was torturous and I felt so out of shape.
6) It felt like I was the last cyclist at the end of the bike portion. When I got to the transition zone, it seemed like all the bikes were there already.
7) The run was the first time in my 8 year racing history where I felt like I might puke.
8) Whoever decided to make the last ½ mile of the race end on the sand is super duper cruel.
9) Having to zig-zag through children playing on the beach may have even been tougher than the bike portion.
10) The best part of the race? Having Mermaid Coach Heidi as the announcer at the finish line. As I ran through the crowd she said on the loudspeaker: “There she is ---Jill! She trained since February and is finishing her first half-ironman!” Heidi, aside from my husband, as been a major supporter of me since February and it felt very fitting to have her close the journey she helped me begin.
11) 7 hours and 54 minutes or so (I can’t remember the exact time) is a heck of a long time to move my body.
So, it is over. I keep waiting for the sense of accomplishment to hit me, but I just think about bits and pieces of these past 7 months and try to put them together to make something whole. Yesterday was very humbling…I was in the very bottom portion of finishers. But, I was also relieved when I got off my bike in one piece and no flat tires. Yeah, it sucks to run a half marathon in 2 hours and 45 minutes when I did one in March in 2:02, but I also didn’t swim 1.2 or bike 56 miles before that race.
I remember going to a swim clinic in
“No,” one of them said. “We are training for Big Kahuna”
I was in awe. I knew that was something I could never do.
And you know what? Sometimes if feels pretty awesome to prove yourself wrong.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Frugality Beats Sanity.
Yesterday morning at 6:10 a.m. I was in San Francisco on a cable car barefoot in a wetsuit. Fortunately, I was not alone.
Six weeks ago, I signed up for the Alcatraz challenge and the day had finally come to do it. I got the idea from my friend LaRee who sent me the link for the race with the message: "We should do this."
I briefly skimmed the race web-page and thought, "Well, that will be after Barb's half-ironman, so I will probably want to do another event. And really, how difficult could a 1.5 mile swim in the bay be?"
As I started the registration process on Athletes Lounge, it did seem funny that I had to initial three disclaimers. Usually, most races have the whole "don't sue us if you die" or " no refund" disclaimer, but this one discussed bridges and other crazy things. I just shrugged and typed in the "JM" and quickly e-mailed my friend I signed up.
It wasn't until I started telling people about this swim and listened to their responses that the actuality of this event sunk in.
Here are what the basic responses were:
"What?"
"Seriously?"
"Why would you do that?"
"Brrrr."
These responses struck me as odd because when I told the same people I was doing a half-ironman they kind of shrugged their shoulders. I mean, this was JUST a swim.
I blame my naivete on not knowing anything (except for the whole island prison thing) about Alcatraz. I have never even done the tourist audio tour of the island. This race was not on my "to-do" list of athletic events. Marathon in another country? Perhaps. Swim in the bay? To quote Bart and Lisa Simpson: "Meh."
My biggest concern before the challenge was, "Can I do this?" Of course, under usual conditions I can swim 1.5 miles in a pool, but this time was different. My shoulder was still not feeling 100% better since my bike crash at Barb's. Last Wednesday I finally got in the pool after almost 3 water-free (except for showers) weeks. I felt ok. Plus, I already forked over the $100 to participate, Frugality beats sanity. The race was on.
So, that is how I found myself riding public transportation in a wetsuit. Me, and a bunch of other people took a ferry a few hundred yards from Alcatraz to do this crazy swim. It still seems crazy to me. I mean, I literally jumped out of a ferry and swam to the Presidio. Me. I don't usually do crazy things like that.
The swim kicked my booty. I have no idea how far I swam because there is kind of a crazy current in the Bay. The race director said it was a 1.5-1.8 mile race. I was definitely unprepared for the crazy waves slapping my body every few seconds. Plus, the participants were pretty spread out so there were times when I was swimming by myself. There were also time where I didn't see anyone behind me and I thought, "Am I going to be the last person out of the water." I swallowed my pride and reasoned, "Well someone has to be last. Maybe I will even get a cool prize." Honestly, I just wanted to finish this beat.
And I did. And I was 42 out of 56 in my age group. I jumped off a ferry in the San Francisco Bay and swam to shore in an hour and 6 minutes.
And you know what? That is kind of cool.
It was cool because I was still smarting from my Barb's race DNF and in the back of my head I worried that I was on this bad karmic train and would never finish a race again.
But the good news is-my spirit is back and I even signed up for another half iron-man in 2 weeks. I may be a little out of shape due to lack of training since my accident, but I feel in my bones that I can finish a half-ironman. Even if it means perhaps coming in last.
"
Six weeks ago, I signed up for the Alcatraz challenge and the day had finally come to do it. I got the idea from my friend LaRee who sent me the link for the race with the message: "We should do this."
I briefly skimmed the race web-page and thought, "Well, that will be after Barb's half-ironman, so I will probably want to do another event. And really, how difficult could a 1.5 mile swim in the bay be?"
As I started the registration process on Athletes Lounge, it did seem funny that I had to initial three disclaimers. Usually, most races have the whole "don't sue us if you die" or " no refund" disclaimer, but this one discussed bridges and other crazy things. I just shrugged and typed in the "JM" and quickly e-mailed my friend I signed up.
It wasn't until I started telling people about this swim and listened to their responses that the actuality of this event sunk in.
Here are what the basic responses were:
"What?"
"Seriously?"
"Why would you do that?"
"Brrrr."
These responses struck me as odd because when I told the same people I was doing a half-ironman they kind of shrugged their shoulders. I mean, this was JUST a swim.
I blame my naivete on not knowing anything (except for the whole island prison thing) about Alcatraz. I have never even done the tourist audio tour of the island. This race was not on my "to-do" list of athletic events. Marathon in another country? Perhaps. Swim in the bay? To quote Bart and Lisa Simpson: "Meh."
My biggest concern before the challenge was, "Can I do this?" Of course, under usual conditions I can swim 1.5 miles in a pool, but this time was different. My shoulder was still not feeling 100% better since my bike crash at Barb's. Last Wednesday I finally got in the pool after almost 3 water-free (except for showers) weeks. I felt ok. Plus, I already forked over the $100 to participate, Frugality beats sanity. The race was on.
So, that is how I found myself riding public transportation in a wetsuit. Me, and a bunch of other people took a ferry a few hundred yards from Alcatraz to do this crazy swim. It still seems crazy to me. I mean, I literally jumped out of a ferry and swam to the Presidio. Me. I don't usually do crazy things like that.
The swim kicked my booty. I have no idea how far I swam because there is kind of a crazy current in the Bay. The race director said it was a 1.5-1.8 mile race. I was definitely unprepared for the crazy waves slapping my body every few seconds. Plus, the participants were pretty spread out so there were times when I was swimming by myself. There were also time where I didn't see anyone behind me and I thought, "Am I going to be the last person out of the water." I swallowed my pride and reasoned, "Well someone has to be last. Maybe I will even get a cool prize." Honestly, I just wanted to finish this beat.
And I did. And I was 42 out of 56 in my age group. I jumped off a ferry in the San Francisco Bay and swam to shore in an hour and 6 minutes.
And you know what? That is kind of cool.
It was cool because I was still smarting from my Barb's race DNF and in the back of my head I worried that I was on this bad karmic train and would never finish a race again.
But the good news is-my spirit is back and I even signed up for another half iron-man in 2 weeks. I may be a little out of shape due to lack of training since my accident, but I feel in my bones that I can finish a half-ironman. Even if it means perhaps coming in last.
"
Monday, August 11, 2008
I wonder...
If I will be healed in time for the Alcatraz Challenge on August 23. And also, can sharks smell fear?
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Did they have to make it red?
I am on the road to recovery and able to dress myself again. Yea! The bad news: my wound is leaking on my dress. Gross. Maybe I should have gone with sleeveless today.
My shoulder is fine except when I move it. Luckily the headache is gone, so I probably haven't done a whole lot of damage to the brain.
I couldn't resist the urge to look up my result for the race. I did the swim in 42:16 which isn't too shabby considering I didn't realize the race was even starting. But right below my name on the results web page were the dreaded initials:
DNF
Did.Not.Finish. Seriously, did they have to make it red? Knock a girl while she's already down and road rashed why don't ya?
(BEWARE: Ranting Section)
This sucks! It really does! This was supposed to be my race. I was so ready to have this major accomplish under my tri shorts and what do I get? Bump on the head and a shoulder resembling prosciutto.
ok...done ranting. I can't be positive and zen-like all the time.
My shoulder is fine except when I move it. Luckily the headache is gone, so I probably haven't done a whole lot of damage to the brain.
I couldn't resist the urge to look up my result for the race. I did the swim in 42:16 which isn't too shabby considering I didn't realize the race was even starting. But right below my name on the results web page were the dreaded initials:
DNF
Did.Not.Finish. Seriously, did they have to make it red? Knock a girl while she's already down and road rashed why don't ya?
(BEWARE: Ranting Section)
This sucks! It really does! This was supposed to be my race. I was so ready to have this major accomplish under my tri shorts and what do I get? Bump on the head and a shoulder resembling prosciutto.
ok...done ranting. I can't be positive and zen-like all the time.
Monday, August 4, 2008
"What's my name?"
I can’t believe Barb’s race is over. It came and went so quickly—even though it was way back in December when I registered for my 1st half-ironman triathlon.
Looking back, I think I put more time and energy training and preparing for this race than planning my own wedding---but that is just because I was a lazy bride. Barefoot on a public beach in
I camped with my mom, sister-in-law and three nieces the week before Barb’s. We were in this great little town of
One day I took my 4 year-old-niece Susie to the restrooms and we decided to run back. She was wearing flip flops and suddenly fell on the road. She started crying and I did a quick assessment to make sure there were no broken bones or skinned knees. I helped her up and wiped away her tears. I told her she was fine and not to worry because Aunt Jill falls down a lot when she runs (see blog entry “Greatest Hits” for proof).
“Why do you run then if you fall?” She sniffled.
I thought about this. I couldn’t tell her, “Well, your aunt is kinda foolish, huh?”
“Well,” I said as I grabbed her hand, “Just because we fall doesn’t mean we stop doing what we love.”
Dennis finally got to the campsite the Friday before the race. We drove to the race packet pick-up and the nerves I suppressed all week finally came bubbling to the surface. Was I really going to do this? What was it going to feel like? How long would it take me?
Dennis calmed me down and we checked out the expo and went to the course pep talk. My nerves changed into excitement and I knew that I was ready to do this race.
We woke up bright and early to head to the race start at Johnson’s Beach in Guerneville. My race OCD was in overdrive as I kept checking my transition bag to make sure I had my bike shoes and helmet. There was no parking available and I told Dennis to just drop me off and I would meet him at the finish. I was pretty freaked out as he drove off because I felt all alone. Luckily as I was walking towards the beach, I saw one of my friends and we chatted nervously. I set up my transition area and squeezed my wetsuit on so I could jump in the river and do a warm up swim. My friend and I swam a little and then headed back. I accidentally knocked her in the head with my arm and we started laughing because the race hadn’t even started and she already got hit in the head. When we were back on shore I heard “Jill!” I turned around and saw my coach Heidi and was so relieved. It was too hectic the night before the race for us to meet up and I was so glad to see her before the race.
We went into the water again and she calmed my nerves by telling me it was going to be a great race. We headed back onto the shore oblivious to a volunteer trying to get us back in the water. Finally we noticed her.
“Are we supposed to get in the water?” I asked.
“Uh, yeah,” she said, “The race is starting now.”
Heidi and I made a mad dash for the water and heard the starting horn go off.
“Oh my gosh,” I though to myself as I started swimming, “This is it.”
The swim went well. It was an out and back which seemed more difficult then the Catfish swim from a couple of weeks ago because that swim was more of a triangle shape. The swim felt good and finally I saw the last buoy and ran to the shore. The best part of the swim was the volunteers who helped take off people’s wetsuits. Shimmying out of a wetsuit is the hardest part of the bike transition and it was nice to have people order me around and tear my wetsuit off.
As I ran to my bike I heard. “Yea Jill!” and I turned to the crowd of spectators and saw one of my friends from the training group holding a sign that said “Go Jill!” I was truly touched to have my own sign. I waved at her and she shouted our team motto: “Dominate!”
The bike started off well. A lot of people passed me, but around mile 17, I was passing people. I had done the bike route before and knew that I had a ways to go. But—I was feeling good.
That is until mile 22.
I am not sure what happened, but I think my mind wandered and I wasn’t paying attention to the road. The road was bumpy and one part was higher than the other. I guess my wheel was right between the raised part of the road and the flat and my bike lost control. I tried to steer it in the right direction and everything was in slow motion until my body hit the ground.
Everything else is kind of a blur.
Somehow I got up, but I don’t know if someone helped me. My vision was going in and out and it was a very out of body experience. Someone asked me if I was ok and I said yes, I want to get back on the bike. I wanted to finish the race. I couldn’t see anything but kept talking. A man told me to rest and guided me to a place to sit down but I had a difficult time balancing. Suddenly, I heard my name:
“Jill are you ok? Are you ok?” It was my friend whom I met up with before the race. At least I think it was---I still couldn’t see anything.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, “I am fine.”
Luckily there was a man who owned a bike shop in
The man packed up my bike in his car and said,” You can’t finish –your bike is in no condition to ride. Also,” he said holding my beautiful new pink helmet, “this thing is cracked and you cannot wear it.”
The cracked helmet explained my floatiness—I had a mild concussion. We drove away and I tried my best to remain coherent.
“How is my bike” I asked him.
He started laughing, “That is a sign of a true triathlete—worried about your bike. Your bike is fine”
I smiled weekly and suddenly felt all the pain my body endured. I looked over at my left shoulder and saw blood and road rash. It seized up when I moved and I wondered if it was dislocated. My left thigh felt like it was on fire and the fingers on my right hand were banged up from the gravel and starting to look raw. I was glad I remembered my bike gloves that day.
Somehow I made it to the medical tents at the race finish and was examined to make sure I didn’t dislocate anything or do damage to my head. A doctor came up and introduced himself before examining me I called Dennis’s cell phone and left a message. He was with my mom at our campsite and I knew he didn’t get reception. I had someone call the campground so they could let Dennis know where I was (it was a good 3 hours before I was expected to finish). I told the person calling the campground to make sure they know I am OK because I knew my mom would freak out if someone told her I got hurt at the race.
The doctor came back again and asked how I was doing. I said fine.
"What's my name?" He asked me.
Crap. I don’t even remember names on days I don’t crack my helmet.
He said, “It is Mike. Remember that, because I am going to be asking you that for the rest of the day. Do you know why?”
“Yeah,” I said, “to make sure I didn’t scramble my brain.”
It was about an hour until Dennis picked me up. We gathered my stuff from the run transition and I know I must have looked pathetic with my arm in a sling. My head was killing me and it was pretty depressing seeing the finishers with their medals and smiling faces. Honestly though, I was much more concerned about my brain hemorrhaging and felt lucky I didn’t hurt anything else or that I didn’t take anyone down with me.
I am so glad Dennis was with my mom when the campground employee told them I was hurt. He is so rationale and I guess he told her that if I was really hurt I would be in the ER, not the medical tent.
Dennis packed up our stuff and drove home. It was a miserable drive because I got nauseated on the back roads and Dennis wouldn’t let me fall asleep because of the whole head injury thing. Plus he kept asking me what our address and phone number was to make sure I was still with it. I finally got to shower when we got home, but it was too painfully to take off my sports bra that we had to cut it off. I must say I am pretty impressed with how durable Zoot tri shorts are---they didn’t get torn at all from the fall.
It has been almost two days since the accident. My shoulder is staring to feel better and the huge welt on my thigh is going down and turning colors. It feels strange to be slightly immobile and confined to a couch because the last 2 months I have been a non-stop training machine. I must admit, I am a little heartbroken about not finishing the race. It was my first DNF ever, and I figured that it would happen eventually. I planned for so long for this race and it was pretty much all I could talk about.
But, honestly, it wasn’t like I was trying to win the race or that it would be the last half-iron EVER.
There is a half iron in
After all, just because I fell doesn’t mean I am going to stop doing something I love.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
"You aren't going back to your hippie days, are you?"
The other day Dennis and I were chilling on the couch, drinking coffee and entertaining ourselves (me: watching "My Life on the D-List"; him : reading the news on his laptop). He chuckled out loud and I paused the show to ask him what was so funny.
"Well, I am reading this article from the New York Times ----hey I am not going to finish the story if you keep rolling your eyes."
I couldn't help the roll. I love to tease him about when he quotes NPR or the New York Times because if it came from anyone else besides him, it would seem undeniably pretentious. Luckily, he is the smartest person I know so I can cut him some slack. It is cool though because I often quote US Weekly. We balance each other out.
"Sorry," I said, "Continue."
"Well, the writer of the article discussed how 'narcissist' is the new buzzword and everyone is all self-absorbed with Facebooks, MySpace, blogs. The author believes they really they aren't being narcissistic, they are just being jerks."
"Heh heh," I said weakly, "Funny."
As I thought about blog posts, uploading race photos to MySpace and how I talk about my triathlon training with everyone I run into, I started to wonder something: "Have I become narcissistic?" Or worse: "Am I a jerk?"
I think back on the past couple of years and, to quote Bobby Darrin, I'm beginning to see the light.
I am living in this little bubble where I think everything is about me and that people should revolve their lives around my actions. Plus, I think I have developed a bit of a chip on my shoulder and have a low tolerance for other people's actions. I tend to get worked up when someone cuts me off on the freeway, drives in the bike lane while I am in it, doesn't move on the trail when I shout "On your freakin' left!" I get irritated when people stand too close to me in Starbucks, I shudder when people bring children to restaurants and they start screaming. I can feel the stress working its way into my body and it doesn't really create sustainable energy (i.e. "that driver just flipped me off and I am so angry at him right now that when I get home I am going to take a nice long run." That doesn't happen. Usually I marinate in the anger and complain to Dennis about it.)
I think most of all I need to be more accepting of people who aren't used to cyclists or runners. if someone doesn't make room for me, I shouldn't scowl at them. What is that going to prove?
Last week my friend Jen and I went to Baskin Robbins for ice cream. We were enjoying our treats outside and saw this lady walking toward a car in the parking lot. She got really upset that someone had left their dog in the car with the windows rolled up. In fact, she got so upset that she went into Baskin Robbins and demanded to know who owned the car. She then yelled at the woman who owned the car about how she needs to roll the window down so the dog had air. She then got super worked up and continued to rip the lady a new one by talking about animal cruelty and then proceeded to use a ridiculous amount of obscenities. The owner of the car went outside to roll the windows down and the woman said to her in a very sarcastic tone: "Thank you very much for rolling down your windows. Thank you." And then she got a crazy look in her eye as the soccer mom went back into Baskin Robbins, "What? What are you looking at? Do you want to take a go at it?"
Meanwhile Jen and I were silent, avoiding any eye contact with the crazy lady. The crazy lady's friend finally convinced her to leave, and when it was safe I turned to Jen and said, "Um, I seriously thought this was going to turn into an episode of Cops."
Jen laughed and said, "It's nice to know that she is concerned about the well being of someone else's dog yet doesn't care about dropping F bombs in front of her daughter." Oh yeah, the crazy lady had her own 8 year old daughter with her as well. Classy.
"Do you think if I talked to her about that, she would laugh about the irony of the situation or she would try to kick my butt? "
"Probably kick your butt," Jen said.
"Hmmm...your right." I thought about it, "Do you think I could take her? I have never gotten into a physical fight before. I mean, if it came down to a self defense situation---I bet I could probably get down and dirty. I wouldn't be able to throw a punch, but maybe throw some kicks in or pull hair and scratch."
"You may have a bit of a chance," Jen said, "You have been working out a lot lately. I think my strategy would be to ask her 'What's one plus one?' and when she stops to think about it---bam! I kick her in the shins and run away."
We laughed into our ice creams and started talking about The Real World from the early 90s versus the skanky Real World now
Now that I think about it, what separates me from this crazy lady? When someone doesn't make room for me on a trail or on Foothill Expressway, I give them the dirtiest look or a gesture that says, "Thanks a lot,jerk wad." The crazy lady's approach to get the woman wasn't the most effective way to go about the situation. She could have calmly told the woman that it appears she may have forgotten to roll her windows down and the dog probably needs some fresh air. Then the woman would have said, "Oh my goodness! I can't believe that, thank you so much for your consideration." Instead, the woman was threatened by the crazy lady and probably was thinking, "Dang, I wish I didn't leave my pepper spray in the car with the dog." Maybe I need to be more like a rational human being and less like the crazy lady.
The evening after the NY Times conversation, Dennis and I were at a restaurant having dinner and I shared my revelation with him.
" I decided something today."
"What's that?" He asked before taking a sip of his Mojito.
"I decided I am not going to get annoyed by stupid people anymore."
After he almost snorted out mojito because of his laughter he said, "Come again?"
I shrugged, "I don't know. I feel like lately I have become more cynical and less tolerant of people. Like what good does it do to get worked up over someone who takes up the whole aisle of the pasta aisle in Safeway with their cart? Maybe they are cooking this great dinner to meet their future in-laws and they are stressed about the cooking. I need to be more tolerant of other people's journeys."
"Your not going to go back to your hippie ways, are you?"
"No way---I am totally going to keep showering and won't be listening to The Dead or anything. Well, I just feel that me grunting my annoyance or rolling my eyes isn't going to solve anything. It is not going to make people feel better about cyclists when we flip them off if they cut us off. I think I need to be friendlier to people when they aren't considerate. I think a smile and a 'excuse me, on your left' may be a good start. It is amazing how much more receptive people are to a smile than a scowl."
"This is true."
"So, from now on I am just going to let go of my anger and focus my energy elsewhere. I want to be a nice person again."
"Sounds like a very good goal. Now can we get the check and go see Batman?"
I agree and think that going to see the movie at the mall is a great place to test out being more tolerant of people. Usually the mall is filled with zombies dazed by all the products marketed to them. The trip to the mall went well, I smiled at people, said excuse me and noticed something interesting. If I go into a situation with a positive attitude, chances are I will I come out of it with the same positive attitude.
It has been three days and Optimism is beating Cynicism in the fight for my outlook on life. And actually, it makes driving not as annoying when I don't brace myself for people being stupid.
Now I just have to figure out how to make this positive thinking work for my triathlon training...
"Well, I am reading this article from the New York Times ----hey I am not going to finish the story if you keep rolling your eyes."
I couldn't help the roll. I love to tease him about when he quotes NPR or the New York Times because if it came from anyone else besides him, it would seem undeniably pretentious. Luckily, he is the smartest person I know so I can cut him some slack. It is cool though because I often quote US Weekly. We balance each other out.
"Sorry," I said, "Continue."
"Well, the writer of the article discussed how 'narcissist' is the new buzzword and everyone is all self-absorbed with Facebooks, MySpace, blogs. The author believes they really they aren't being narcissistic, they are just being jerks."
"Heh heh," I said weakly, "Funny."
As I thought about blog posts, uploading race photos to MySpace and how I talk about my triathlon training with everyone I run into, I started to wonder something: "Have I become narcissistic?" Or worse: "Am I a jerk?"
I think back on the past couple of years and, to quote Bobby Darrin, I'm beginning to see the light.
I am living in this little bubble where I think everything is about me and that people should revolve their lives around my actions. Plus, I think I have developed a bit of a chip on my shoulder and have a low tolerance for other people's actions. I tend to get worked up when someone cuts me off on the freeway, drives in the bike lane while I am in it, doesn't move on the trail when I shout "On your freakin' left!" I get irritated when people stand too close to me in Starbucks, I shudder when people bring children to restaurants and they start screaming. I can feel the stress working its way into my body and it doesn't really create sustainable energy (i.e. "that driver just flipped me off and I am so angry at him right now that when I get home I am going to take a nice long run." That doesn't happen. Usually I marinate in the anger and complain to Dennis about it.)
I think most of all I need to be more accepting of people who aren't used to cyclists or runners. if someone doesn't make room for me, I shouldn't scowl at them. What is that going to prove?
Last week my friend Jen and I went to Baskin Robbins for ice cream. We were enjoying our treats outside and saw this lady walking toward a car in the parking lot. She got really upset that someone had left their dog in the car with the windows rolled up. In fact, she got so upset that she went into Baskin Robbins and demanded to know who owned the car. She then yelled at the woman who owned the car about how she needs to roll the window down so the dog had air. She then got super worked up and continued to rip the lady a new one by talking about animal cruelty and then proceeded to use a ridiculous amount of obscenities. The owner of the car went outside to roll the windows down and the woman said to her in a very sarcastic tone: "Thank you very much for rolling down your windows. Thank you." And then she got a crazy look in her eye as the soccer mom went back into Baskin Robbins, "What? What are you looking at? Do you want to take a go at it?"
Meanwhile Jen and I were silent, avoiding any eye contact with the crazy lady. The crazy lady's friend finally convinced her to leave, and when it was safe I turned to Jen and said, "Um, I seriously thought this was going to turn into an episode of Cops."
Jen laughed and said, "It's nice to know that she is concerned about the well being of someone else's dog yet doesn't care about dropping F bombs in front of her daughter." Oh yeah, the crazy lady had her own 8 year old daughter with her as well. Classy.
"Do you think if I talked to her about that, she would laugh about the irony of the situation or she would try to kick my butt? "
"Probably kick your butt," Jen said.
"Hmmm...your right." I thought about it, "Do you think I could take her? I have never gotten into a physical fight before. I mean, if it came down to a self defense situation---I bet I could probably get down and dirty. I wouldn't be able to throw a punch, but maybe throw some kicks in or pull hair and scratch."
"You may have a bit of a chance," Jen said, "You have been working out a lot lately. I think my strategy would be to ask her 'What's one plus one?' and when she stops to think about it---bam! I kick her in the shins and run away."
We laughed into our ice creams and started talking about The Real World from the early 90s versus the skanky Real World now
Now that I think about it, what separates me from this crazy lady? When someone doesn't make room for me on a trail or on Foothill Expressway, I give them the dirtiest look or a gesture that says, "Thanks a lot,jerk wad." The crazy lady's approach to get the woman wasn't the most effective way to go about the situation. She could have calmly told the woman that it appears she may have forgotten to roll her windows down and the dog probably needs some fresh air. Then the woman would have said, "Oh my goodness! I can't believe that, thank you so much for your consideration." Instead, the woman was threatened by the crazy lady and probably was thinking, "Dang, I wish I didn't leave my pepper spray in the car with the dog." Maybe I need to be more like a rational human being and less like the crazy lady.
The evening after the NY Times conversation, Dennis and I were at a restaurant having dinner and I shared my revelation with him.
" I decided something today."
"What's that?" He asked before taking a sip of his Mojito.
"I decided I am not going to get annoyed by stupid people anymore."
After he almost snorted out mojito because of his laughter he said, "Come again?"
I shrugged, "I don't know. I feel like lately I have become more cynical and less tolerant of people. Like what good does it do to get worked up over someone who takes up the whole aisle of the pasta aisle in Safeway with their cart? Maybe they are cooking this great dinner to meet their future in-laws and they are stressed about the cooking. I need to be more tolerant of other people's journeys."
"Your not going to go back to your hippie ways, are you?"
"No way---I am totally going to keep showering and won't be listening to The Dead or anything. Well, I just feel that me grunting my annoyance or rolling my eyes isn't going to solve anything. It is not going to make people feel better about cyclists when we flip them off if they cut us off. I think I need to be friendlier to people when they aren't considerate. I think a smile and a 'excuse me, on your left' may be a good start. It is amazing how much more receptive people are to a smile than a scowl."
"This is true."
"So, from now on I am just going to let go of my anger and focus my energy elsewhere. I want to be a nice person again."
"Sounds like a very good goal. Now can we get the check and go see Batman?"
I agree and think that going to see the movie at the mall is a great place to test out being more tolerant of people. Usually the mall is filled with zombies dazed by all the products marketed to them. The trip to the mall went well, I smiled at people, said excuse me and noticed something interesting. If I go into a situation with a positive attitude, chances are I will I come out of it with the same positive attitude.
It has been three days and Optimism is beating Cynicism in the fight for my outlook on life. And actually, it makes driving not as annoying when I don't brace myself for people being stupid.
Now I just have to figure out how to make this positive thinking work for my triathlon training...
Monday, July 21, 2008
"I don't want to do this anymore!"
It is officially less than 2 weeks to go until the big Barb's Race. The Vineman 70.3 was on Saturday and I checked out the results on-line, to get a sense of where I may be. I won't utter any goal times out loud until after the race for fear of jinxing myself.
My training is becoming pretty intense. For the past week, my workouts have been lasting 1-3 hours! that is like watching the newest batman plus all the million previews! I am tired and sore, yet have a lot more energy than I have had before. Plus--- food has never tasted so good! Yesterday after the Catfish swim Dennis and I went to breakfast and it was such a party. I was taking bites of my omelet, slathering jam on toast, piercing my fork in Dennis' Benedict and told him: "I am having such a fun time!"
The Catfish was a swimming-only race where you can choose to swim a 1.2, 2.4 or 3.6 mile swim in the Stevens Creek Reservoir. I signed up for the 1.2 because I wanted to know what 1.2 in a lake setting felt like (plus, I need more practice getting in and out of my wetsuit.) in preparation for Barb's.
I decided to call it a practice swim and not a race, because my RACE is in two weeks and I have my enthusiasm on reserve. Plus, as noted previously, my workouts have been getting intense and I definitely didn't have nice fresh legs for a race.
Dennis and I left at 7:00 to head to the race. We biked from our townhouse to the start---about 5 miles. I was also wearing my tri-backpack filled with my wetsuit, goggles, swim cap and towel. As I got on my bike, I could only think one thing: "Ouch!" It was my 4th day in a row on a bike, and certain unmentionable body parts were protesting the torture. Oh, wait, I was thinking two things: "ouch" and "brrrr." Funny, I thought it was supposed to be warm in California in July. Not so much at 7 in the morning.
We arrived at the reservoir and I stumbled into my wetsuit. Note to self---wetsuits are hard to put on when slightly sweaty from biking. I kissed Dennis goodbye and headed to the start. He found a good spot where he could watch both the swimmers and the bikes.
It was a water start, which meant you get in the water first and just kind of bob around until they start the race. I surveyed the buoys to visualize the turns and the distance of the race. Funny, 1.2 miles in a lake doesn't look all that far. It must be an optical illusion.
Unlike triathlons---which start in age group waves---it was going to be a mass start. I bobbed to the back of the pack as I didn't want to get in anyones way. I was not there to win the gold.
Speaking of which---there was a girl in the race who will be competing in the Olympics this year! How cool is it that I was in the same water as a future Olympian? Her race at the Olympics is the 10k open water swim and she wants to do it in 2 hours. Yeah, that is 6.2 miles of swimming! Rock star.
Anyways, the race started and bam! Pure anarchy. I have always been somewhat cautious about the open water swim in triathlons because of all the appendages flying everywhere, but this was like no open water swim I have done before. They should have called it the Sardine swim because I felt like we were a bunch of sardines squeezed together swimming. I had people swimming on top of me, pushing me, pulling hair (ok, maybe not pulling hair as we were all wearing swim caps)...It felt like an extreme sports version of "Lord of the Flies." I saw these two women frozen in the water eying the insanity and one said to the other, "I don't want to do this anymore!"
Luckily, I did not panic. I did, however, have to chuck my personal space issues out of the reservoir. I am not really a hugging person, nor do I like close talking people---but I had no choice today. Eventually the group spread out and I was able to maintain a good pace. I didn't go fast, but I really concentrated on my stroke and breathing. About halfway through the race it got a little congested again. I had one guy swimming on my right and a woman on my left and they were both coming towards me at a fast pace. I slowed my pace and let them both pass me and I watched them crash right into each other. Ouch. That is going to leave a mark. I am actually surprised Open Water Swimming isn't a bigger spectator sport as football--there is kind of a lot of physical contact and (though unintentional) violence.
1.2 miles is a long time to swim in the open water---the furthest I had done was .9 in the Olympic distance triathlons. I finally made it to the finish and got out of the water, wondering what my time would be. The clock had a little over 42 minutes on it. I was pleasantly surprised, as my goal was to do it in under an hour. All in all, a great practice swim. Maybe next year I will do the 2.4 distance.
I have learned a couple things about open water swimming these past few months:
1) Don't drink lake water unless you want parasitic pets in your system. Mmmmm...gardia...deelish...
2) Find a discreet way to spit in your goggles to defog them
3) Breastroke kickers are scarier than sharks.
My training is becoming pretty intense. For the past week, my workouts have been lasting 1-3 hours! that is like watching the newest batman plus all the million previews! I am tired and sore, yet have a lot more energy than I have had before. Plus--- food has never tasted so good! Yesterday after the Catfish swim Dennis and I went to breakfast and it was such a party. I was taking bites of my omelet, slathering jam on toast, piercing my fork in Dennis' Benedict and told him: "I am having such a fun time!"
The Catfish was a swimming-only race where you can choose to swim a 1.2, 2.4 or 3.6 mile swim in the Stevens Creek Reservoir. I signed up for the 1.2 because I wanted to know what 1.2 in a lake setting felt like (plus, I need more practice getting in and out of my wetsuit.) in preparation for Barb's.
I decided to call it a practice swim and not a race, because my RACE is in two weeks and I have my enthusiasm on reserve. Plus, as noted previously, my workouts have been getting intense and I definitely didn't have nice fresh legs for a race.
Dennis and I left at 7:00 to head to the race. We biked from our townhouse to the start---about 5 miles. I was also wearing my tri-backpack filled with my wetsuit, goggles, swim cap and towel. As I got on my bike, I could only think one thing: "Ouch!" It was my 4th day in a row on a bike, and certain unmentionable body parts were protesting the torture. Oh, wait, I was thinking two things: "ouch" and "brrrr." Funny, I thought it was supposed to be warm in California in July. Not so much at 7 in the morning.
We arrived at the reservoir and I stumbled into my wetsuit. Note to self---wetsuits are hard to put on when slightly sweaty from biking. I kissed Dennis goodbye and headed to the start. He found a good spot where he could watch both the swimmers and the bikes.
It was a water start, which meant you get in the water first and just kind of bob around until they start the race. I surveyed the buoys to visualize the turns and the distance of the race. Funny, 1.2 miles in a lake doesn't look all that far. It must be an optical illusion.
Unlike triathlons---which start in age group waves---it was going to be a mass start. I bobbed to the back of the pack as I didn't want to get in anyones way. I was not there to win the gold.
Speaking of which---there was a girl in the race who will be competing in the Olympics this year! How cool is it that I was in the same water as a future Olympian? Her race at the Olympics is the 10k open water swim and she wants to do it in 2 hours. Yeah, that is 6.2 miles of swimming! Rock star.
Anyways, the race started and bam! Pure anarchy. I have always been somewhat cautious about the open water swim in triathlons because of all the appendages flying everywhere, but this was like no open water swim I have done before. They should have called it the Sardine swim because I felt like we were a bunch of sardines squeezed together swimming. I had people swimming on top of me, pushing me, pulling hair (ok, maybe not pulling hair as we were all wearing swim caps)...It felt like an extreme sports version of "Lord of the Flies." I saw these two women frozen in the water eying the insanity and one said to the other, "I don't want to do this anymore!"
Luckily, I did not panic. I did, however, have to chuck my personal space issues out of the reservoir. I am not really a hugging person, nor do I like close talking people---but I had no choice today. Eventually the group spread out and I was able to maintain a good pace. I didn't go fast, but I really concentrated on my stroke and breathing. About halfway through the race it got a little congested again. I had one guy swimming on my right and a woman on my left and they were both coming towards me at a fast pace. I slowed my pace and let them both pass me and I watched them crash right into each other. Ouch. That is going to leave a mark. I am actually surprised Open Water Swimming isn't a bigger spectator sport as football--there is kind of a lot of physical contact and (though unintentional) violence.
1.2 miles is a long time to swim in the open water---the furthest I had done was .9 in the Olympic distance triathlons. I finally made it to the finish and got out of the water, wondering what my time would be. The clock had a little over 42 minutes on it. I was pleasantly surprised, as my goal was to do it in under an hour. All in all, a great practice swim. Maybe next year I will do the 2.4 distance.
I have learned a couple things about open water swimming these past few months:
1) Don't drink lake water unless you want parasitic pets in your system. Mmmmm...gardia...deelish...
2) Find a discreet way to spit in your goggles to defog them
3) Breastroke kickers are scarier than sharks.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Greatest Hits
Yesterday I entertained my training group by telling a very embarrassing story regarding me, Foothill Expressway and my helmet. It made me realize that I have kind of A LOT of not so flattering stories involving me on a bike, in running shoes and possibly in the water. Some are athletic and some are not (i.e. riding a bike because I didn't have a car). So, in no particular order, I present you: "The Greatest Hits on Bike, Land and Water that Have Made me the Well Formed (klutz) Woman I Am Today." So enjoy, and if you totally bite it some time and are embarassed, refer back to this post and know someone bit it harder than you.
1) bike (recreational): While riding through University of Oregon's football stadium parking lot on the way to my apartment, I stopped looking in front of me for a minute. It was dark so I couldn't see things very well. For some reason I decided to look up and saw a rope used to divide parking spaces right in front of me. I slammed on my breaks, which didn't help with the bungee effect of my torso making contact with the rope and I fly off my wheels. Skinned knees: check. Bruised ego: check.
2) bike (recreational): same parking lot; I got off my bike to go through a gate and was face to face with this disgusting looking creature that is reminiscent of the Rodents Of Unusual Size from the Princess Bride (except the size of this dude wasn't very unusual). I slowly backed away from the hideous thing and he lunged toward me while making a warrior sound (o.k., I think it was just a small hiss) as his claw grazed my oh so stylin' Dickies overalls (cut me some slack---I was in college and my fashion sense wasn't quite fully formed yet---I promised my husband years ago that I will never wear overalls again). I screamed like someone attending the prom in Carrie right after she went all crazy telekinetic and jumped on my bike. Turns out the creature was the dreaded eco-system-destroying nutria that love to roam around marshy areas in Eugene and terrorize curly haired girls wearing overalls.
I still shudder at the thought of that claw.
3) bike (recreational): Let me preface this story by telling you that I was not a sporty kid. I wasn't even allowed to ride my bike past the end of my street, so as an adult I lacked coordination on two wheels. So, one time I rode through Eugene with some friends and we went up this hill. My friends in front of me got up of their seat to pedal up the hill. I thought, "Hey, that looks cool. I am going to try it." Next thing I know I am crumpled on the ground and my friends look back and freak out because they think the truck that stopped behind me hit me. Nah, just me being me.
4) Running: I am 10 and at sleepaway camp playing a very intense game of Capture the Flag. Even back then I had the habit of not looking in front of me while moving. So, while running for the flag, I made contact with a tree trunk that was waist level and spent the rest of camp with a huge bruise in a place where bruises NEVER should be.
5) Running: About 8 years ago I was running around my parents' neighborhood. There is a point where the sidewalk ends and you have to get off the curb and land on the street. It is early into my run and (warning: kinda gross) after 10 minutes of running I usually have to hock a loog.Because I am not the best athletic multi-tasker, I do the deed without realizing it is time to jump off the curb. See #3: "crumpled on ground."
6) biking (workout) While riding on Foothill Expressway two years ago (post-college cruiser but pre-rocking pink handlebar road bike), I noticed this male driver totally checking me out. He wasn't even trying to hide it as he cranked his neck to ogle. I rolled my eyes, wishing that a girl could just work out in peace. I turned into the left lane and we are both stopped at a light. The dude had the nerve to roll down his window to talk to me. What kind of tired pick up line is he going to use? I look over at him and he said "Your helmet is on backwards." Luckily my light turned green right after he spoke and I rode to a parking lot to flip my helmet around, totally embarassed because I was riding like that for TWO HOURS!
7) swimming: last year I went to an Open Water Swim Clinic in Santa Cruz. I had to rent a surfing wetsuit at a surf shack on the beach. The store dude helped me pick a size and I went to the restroom to grunt my way into the wetsuit. I looked in the mirror and thought, "I look ridiculous. Oh well." I went to the main part of the store and asked the store dude what he thought. He said while barely stifling a smile, "Well, it is on inside out. And backwards."
Are you noticing a theme here?
That is it for now. But don't worry, I am sure there are many more stories to come because as long as I am moving, I will surely be falling.
1) bike (recreational): While riding through University of Oregon's football stadium parking lot on the way to my apartment, I stopped looking in front of me for a minute. It was dark so I couldn't see things very well. For some reason I decided to look up and saw a rope used to divide parking spaces right in front of me. I slammed on my breaks, which didn't help with the bungee effect of my torso making contact with the rope and I fly off my wheels. Skinned knees: check. Bruised ego: check.
2) bike (recreational): same parking lot; I got off my bike to go through a gate and was face to face with this disgusting looking creature that is reminiscent of the Rodents Of Unusual Size from the Princess Bride (except the size of this dude wasn't very unusual). I slowly backed away from the hideous thing and he lunged toward me while making a warrior sound (o.k., I think it was just a small hiss) as his claw grazed my oh so stylin' Dickies overalls (cut me some slack---I was in college and my fashion sense wasn't quite fully formed yet---I promised my husband years ago that I will never wear overalls again). I screamed like someone attending the prom in Carrie right after she went all crazy telekinetic and jumped on my bike. Turns out the creature was the dreaded eco-system-destroying nutria that love to roam around marshy areas in Eugene and terrorize curly haired girls wearing overalls.
I still shudder at the thought of that claw.
3) bike (recreational): Let me preface this story by telling you that I was not a sporty kid. I wasn't even allowed to ride my bike past the end of my street, so as an adult I lacked coordination on two wheels. So, one time I rode through Eugene with some friends and we went up this hill. My friends in front of me got up of their seat to pedal up the hill. I thought, "Hey, that looks cool. I am going to try it." Next thing I know I am crumpled on the ground and my friends look back and freak out because they think the truck that stopped behind me hit me. Nah, just me being me.
4) Running: I am 10 and at sleepaway camp playing a very intense game of Capture the Flag. Even back then I had the habit of not looking in front of me while moving. So, while running for the flag, I made contact with a tree trunk that was waist level and spent the rest of camp with a huge bruise in a place where bruises NEVER should be.
5) Running: About 8 years ago I was running around my parents' neighborhood. There is a point where the sidewalk ends and you have to get off the curb and land on the street. It is early into my run and (warning: kinda gross) after 10 minutes of running I usually have to hock a loog.Because I am not the best athletic multi-tasker, I do the deed without realizing it is time to jump off the curb. See #3: "crumpled on ground."
6) biking (workout) While riding on Foothill Expressway two years ago (post-college cruiser but pre-rocking pink handlebar road bike), I noticed this male driver totally checking me out. He wasn't even trying to hide it as he cranked his neck to ogle. I rolled my eyes, wishing that a girl could just work out in peace. I turned into the left lane and we are both stopped at a light. The dude had the nerve to roll down his window to talk to me. What kind of tired pick up line is he going to use? I look over at him and he said "Your helmet is on backwards." Luckily my light turned green right after he spoke and I rode to a parking lot to flip my helmet around, totally embarassed because I was riding like that for TWO HOURS!
7) swimming: last year I went to an Open Water Swim Clinic in Santa Cruz. I had to rent a surfing wetsuit at a surf shack on the beach. The store dude helped me pick a size and I went to the restroom to grunt my way into the wetsuit. I looked in the mirror and thought, "I look ridiculous. Oh well." I went to the main part of the store and asked the store dude what he thought. He said while barely stifling a smile, "Well, it is on inside out. And backwards."
Are you noticing a theme here?
That is it for now. But don't worry, I am sure there are many more stories to come because as long as I am moving, I will surely be falling.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
soundtracks, rantings on circle swims and mini to major freakouts
Underwater Mp3 players are the best. I finally tested mine out yesterday with a 1700 yard swim. I probably looked ridiculous because the headphones are oval shaped and rest from the cheekbones to the ears. That combined with goggles and my "Oh Snap!" swim cap (yes, that is what is written on it in swirly letters) makes me look like quite the rock star.
Speaking of rock stars, finding songs for swimming was quite the fun little challenge. I didn't want anything from my running Mp3, and you definitely can't sprint in the water like you can when you run (so no testosterone music AKA Beastie Boys, Suicidal Tendencies and Guns and Roses). So, my swimming mix consists of such greats as "Gone Daddy Gone" (Violent Femmes, not Gnarls B.), "Heaven is a Place on Earth" and "Beyond the Sea."
The sound is ok, considering you are underwater. The quality reminds me of my old aqua blue cassette boombox that I used to listen to my Huey Lewis and Whitney Houston tapes.
There is something surreal about being underwater with music. I feel like I am in my own movie.
I have not been able to , however, enjoy my Mp3 and fancy lap counter because for the past 3 weeks the dang pool in my complex is being repaired. I am going to various community pools in the area, but they are packed. Nothing is better than having my own lane, but on Wednesday I circle swam with 3 other people! Not a quality workout. I was so distracted about my pace that I couldn't keep track of time. ugh! That pool better be fixed soon or I will be one angry trijill.
I think the root of my short fuse anger is most likely my mini freak outs about the race. It is seriously 3 weeks from tomorrow. I am having a hard time envisioning what those 13 miles are going to feel like after I ride 56 miles. It feels like forever since I ran 13 miles---though it was only last May. What will the swim feel like? Why does my body feel so tight lately?
Reality is starting to hit me as far as what I signed up for and I am gonna be honest...
I am pretty scared.
Speaking of rock stars, finding songs for swimming was quite the fun little challenge. I didn't want anything from my running Mp3, and you definitely can't sprint in the water like you can when you run (so no testosterone music AKA Beastie Boys, Suicidal Tendencies and Guns and Roses). So, my swimming mix consists of such greats as "Gone Daddy Gone" (Violent Femmes, not Gnarls B.), "Heaven is a Place on Earth" and "Beyond the Sea."
The sound is ok, considering you are underwater. The quality reminds me of my old aqua blue cassette boombox that I used to listen to my Huey Lewis and Whitney Houston tapes.
There is something surreal about being underwater with music. I feel like I am in my own movie.
I have not been able to , however, enjoy my Mp3 and fancy lap counter because for the past 3 weeks the dang pool in my complex is being repaired. I am going to various community pools in the area, but they are packed. Nothing is better than having my own lane, but on Wednesday I circle swam with 3 other people! Not a quality workout. I was so distracted about my pace that I couldn't keep track of time. ugh! That pool better be fixed soon or I will be one angry trijill.
I think the root of my short fuse anger is most likely my mini freak outs about the race. It is seriously 3 weeks from tomorrow. I am having a hard time envisioning what those 13 miles are going to feel like after I ride 56 miles. It feels like forever since I ran 13 miles---though it was only last May. What will the swim feel like? Why does my body feel so tight lately?
Reality is starting to hit me as far as what I signed up for and I am gonna be honest...
I am pretty scared.
Monday, June 30, 2008
I am such a winner...
because before I left for my training ride yesterday I checked myself out in the mirror and realized I still had my race number on my helmet. From a race that was two weeks ago. And I was riding for the last two weeks with #473 on my head.
So, that is why other cyclists were smirking at me and one driver asked if there was a race going on.
Awesome.
So, that is why other cyclists were smirking at me and one driver asked if there was a race going on.
Awesome.
Reality
Yesterday I rode the Barb's Race course. Well, I rode the course plus an extra 15 miles because it doesn't start in the same place. So, yesterday I rode more than I ever have in my life: 71 miles. My bootie is somewhere in Healdsburg right now.
The ride wasn't too bad. Rollers and a nice hill at mile 46 to keep you "honest in your training" (quoted from the Vineman website). It was nice to see the course and know where the heck Guerneville is and now I can visualize race day. Visualizing that 13 mile run after 56 miles on the bike is still quite difficult.
One thing I am noticing is that some people have strong opinions on cyclists. These opinions aren't very favorable. On my long 71 mile (c'mon---I have to mention this HUGE accomplishment one more time, right?). I realized the struggle cyclists face when they ride. People are honking, annoyed and agitated at a procession of two-wheeled athletes sharing the road with them. I made the mistake of stopping outside Guerneville to ask a tasting room owner if I could use his restroom. He spent a good 10 minutes lecturing me on how he doesn't like non-customers to use his restroom, my shoes will ruin the floor, cyclists will find out his place is a rest stop and BOOM! his company is destroyed (wow! I sure have a lot of power!). Then he openly admitted that he is bitter about cyclists and was sued by one because his tractor hit a woman on her bike. Because my bladder was ready to burst, I didn't have time to think quickly, but maybe I should have suggested that he started riding so he can acquire some chip-on-shoulder-reducing endorphins.
As I type this, I must say, I am getting worked up as well. I guess I was naive and idealistic thinking the world would embrace me being active and doing my part to break the stereotype of "lazy Americans." This is not the case. There is a whole subset of people who see me on the road and it creates rage in them. They feel I shouldn't be there on THEIR roads.
whew...ok...let me find my center and not focus on the anger. I guess I am frustrated because I don't know how to fix this broken relationship between drivers and cyclist. Yeah, some cyclists are jerks just as some drivers are idiots.
But serioursly folks--this division needs to stop.
We need to figure out a way to co-exist safely and free of bitterness.
Any idea?
The ride wasn't too bad. Rollers and a nice hill at mile 46 to keep you "honest in your training" (quoted from the Vineman website). It was nice to see the course and know where the heck Guerneville is and now I can visualize race day. Visualizing that 13 mile run after 56 miles on the bike is still quite difficult.
One thing I am noticing is that some people have strong opinions on cyclists. These opinions aren't very favorable. On my long 71 mile (c'mon---I have to mention this HUGE accomplishment one more time, right?). I realized the struggle cyclists face when they ride. People are honking, annoyed and agitated at a procession of two-wheeled athletes sharing the road with them. I made the mistake of stopping outside Guerneville to ask a tasting room owner if I could use his restroom. He spent a good 10 minutes lecturing me on how he doesn't like non-customers to use his restroom, my shoes will ruin the floor, cyclists will find out his place is a rest stop and BOOM! his company is destroyed (wow! I sure have a lot of power!). Then he openly admitted that he is bitter about cyclists and was sued by one because his tractor hit a woman on her bike. Because my bladder was ready to burst, I didn't have time to think quickly, but maybe I should have suggested that he started riding so he can acquire some chip-on-shoulder-reducing endorphins.
As I type this, I must say, I am getting worked up as well. I guess I was naive and idealistic thinking the world would embrace me being active and doing my part to break the stereotype of "lazy Americans." This is not the case. There is a whole subset of people who see me on the road and it creates rage in them. They feel I shouldn't be there on THEIR roads.
whew...ok...let me find my center and not focus on the anger. I guess I am frustrated because I don't know how to fix this broken relationship between drivers and cyclist. Yeah, some cyclists are jerks just as some drivers are idiots.
But serioursly folks--this division needs to stop.
We need to figure out a way to co-exist safely and free of bitterness.
Any idea?
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Crunch Time!
I am in serious withdrawal. I vowed to myself that after the Mermaid Triathlon on June 15th I would NOT sign up for any more races until after Barb’s. I am jonesing right now to put on a bib and timing chip and go!
Luckily the Mermaid went well considering I was at the race at 5 am to volunteer, forgot my goggles AND my hat. I was 3 seconds away from finishing in the top 10 in my age group. 3 seconds!
I am starting to stress about the big race big time. Usually my stress dreams involve me finding out I need to go back to high school to take a class or seeing the school bus coming and not being able to get dressed. Last week I had a dream that I was trying to get to a race, but every 7-11 I went to was out of Gatorade and I arrived at the start as the last wave was getting in the water. Ugh.
I have a little over a month to go and my coach is ramping up my training hardcore. She sent me my calendar for the last two weeks in June and I started laughing when I read it. Seriously, this must be a joke. Then I remembered that I signed up for a half-ironman and training for it won’t magically happen with a little fairy dust.
In order to track my progress, I decided to start a training journal for this crazy workout regime.
Here it is so far:
6/18 Swim 2300 yards in morning; Run 44 minutes; speed work:
Swam at De Anza before work Went ok.
Ran at Rancho San Antonio after work. Was nice to be back on this trail. Hot as heck though. Legs still recovering from two weekends in a row of racing. Hard to sprint. Almost got stung by a bee when I took a drink from water fountain. Glad I put Journey on my Mp3.
6/19 Bike 1 hour 45 minutes moderate pace
Started at Lake Almaden Park after a meeting in South San Jose at 5. Annoyed at little kids in bathroom because I needed to change and they were hogging restroom doing who knows what. Super hot ride. Road down Almaden to Uvas road (25 miles round trip). Tooshie was tired on bike seat. Need more time on bike.
6/20 Morning: Swam 2500 yards; woke up at 6 to swim in my complex’s lap pool; super awesome to be only one in pool. Got bored and had a hard time counting 90+ laps. Ordered underwater Mp3 and lap counter from Amazon.
Evening: Ran 55 minutes with 6 1 minute sprints; hot, hotter mchottie! I was melting and thirsty. Note to self: running on El Camino sucks rocks.
6/21 Bike 3 hours 15 minutes; moderate pace. Drove down to Morgan Hill at 7:30. Biked Uvas to Hellyer to Santa Teresa. Bored by Santa Teresa’s flatness and wind. Decided to take Willow Springs road for kicks and giggles. Oops…pretty steep. Survived the hill and road past mansion where Junior prom was held. Felt pretty smug about being in better shape at 31 then at 17. Rode through downtown Morgan hill past high school to Cochrane and back to my car. 42 miles. Tooshie still hurts.
6/22 (Oh my gosh! Does this ever end?)
Swim 2600 yards (104 freakin’ laps); ran 1 hour 45 minutes immediately after swim. Swim was boring---Mp3 player please come soon! Legs felt wobbly after swimming. Almost got ran over by minivan who ran a stoplight. Swore a little. Ok…a lot. Worked at a health fair until 1:30. Played softball from 3:30-5:30. Had lots of energy from morning workout. Didn’t suck as much as I usually do at softball. Even caught a ball and went home twice!
6/23 Rest Day. Thank goodness. Baked 8 dozen cookies and a ladybug shaped cake for my Barb’s Race Fundraising. Wondered if 4 hours of baking counts as cross-training.
6/24 Biked an hour and a half with ( 7 )3 minute sprints. Chain fell off going up Mt. Eden. Luckily did not bite it. Finally felt strong on bike and tooshie did not hurt. Whoo hoo!
The rest of this week will be more of the same, finishing with riding the actual 56 mile bike course for Barb's as a training ride. Hope my tooshie can handle it.Friday, June 13, 2008
that feeling of doubt...
"What the heck am I doing here?"
That is what is going through my mind every time I race. No matter how well I trained/ate/slept/caffeinated, this thought floats in through my subconcious.
I am sure if I met a version of my 20 year old self, I am sure she would say, "What the heck are you doing?" I couldn't even run a mile at 20. I couldn't even get out of bed before 10 on a weekend day, let alone get up at 5 a.m. to jump in a disgusting lake.
But here I am, completely addicted to the feeling of completing a race. After a race I feel euphoric, but before a race I feel nervous and--worse---inadequate.
As I waited by the shore at Almaden Lake at last week's triathlon, my insecurities rushed over me. Even though I have aquite a few events under my race belt, I still feel like an outsider. I am sure compared to the average joe out there, I am fairly athletic. But surrounded by all these amazing physical specimens kinda humbles a gal.
I blame the tri clothing. It is the most unflattering to normal 31 year-old bodies like mine. I am not kidding myself thinking I am a supermodel, but I wish I didn't feel quite so hideous sucked into all that spandex. I wear the tri bike shorts and a tight fitting top, and these pro's are surrounding me in in similar outfits and I think, " So that is what you are supposed to look like."
Don't get me started on the wetsuit. Once I manage to pull that thing on and shove my curls into a swim cap, I don't feel like an athlete. I feel like a condom.
Another thing that is humbling is being passed by people in older age groups. Whenever someone passes me I always check out the age bodymarked on their rippling calf. These 45 year-old women are rock stars and have amazing bodies. Why can't I be like them? Why is this starting to feel like middle school gym class all over again? Why can't I have a body that is jiggle free and have a nice bobbing ponytail when I run?
How did this happen? How did I get excited about signing up for a race, only to get to the running part and have a major case of the Jan Bradys ("Marcia, Marcia, Marcia")?
My coach asked me why the run is the toughest part for me, and perhaps it is some of these negative thoughts I am having. This is going to sound awful, but I am going to go ahead and say it: I feel like everyone watching me is wondering, "what the heck is she doing here? She's no athlete?"
As I type these words, I realize that THIS needs to stop. I need to stop berating myself for not being perfect. It is kinda rude for me to think these thoughts about my body, considering it has put up with a lot of races and training and hasn't protested once to my abuse.
So, at tomorrow's race day, I vow to not compare myself to the 12% body fat woman gliding past me or feel smug when I pass a 24 year old on my bike. I am going to swim, bike and run my way into positive thoughts and find my center and all that jazz . As I am running, I will think to myself, "Jill you are a triathlete. And that is pretty awesome."
And I will kick it into high gear when I see that finish line, so I can hear the cheers of the spectators. They love a strong finish.
And so do I.
That is what is going through my mind every time I race. No matter how well I trained/ate/slept/caffeinated, this thought floats in through my subconcious.
I am sure if I met a version of my 20 year old self, I am sure she would say, "What the heck are you doing?" I couldn't even run a mile at 20. I couldn't even get out of bed before 10 on a weekend day, let alone get up at 5 a.m. to jump in a disgusting lake.
But here I am, completely addicted to the feeling of completing a race. After a race I feel euphoric, but before a race I feel nervous and--worse---inadequate.
As I waited by the shore at Almaden Lake at last week's triathlon, my insecurities rushed over me. Even though I have aquite a few events under my race belt, I still feel like an outsider. I am sure compared to the average joe out there, I am fairly athletic. But surrounded by all these amazing physical specimens kinda humbles a gal.
I blame the tri clothing. It is the most unflattering to normal 31 year-old bodies like mine. I am not kidding myself thinking I am a supermodel, but I wish I didn't feel quite so hideous sucked into all that spandex. I wear the tri bike shorts and a tight fitting top, and these pro's are surrounding me in in similar outfits and I think, " So that is what you are supposed to look like."
Don't get me started on the wetsuit. Once I manage to pull that thing on and shove my curls into a swim cap, I don't feel like an athlete. I feel like a condom.
Another thing that is humbling is being passed by people in older age groups. Whenever someone passes me I always check out the age bodymarked on their rippling calf. These 45 year-old women are rock stars and have amazing bodies. Why can't I be like them? Why is this starting to feel like middle school gym class all over again? Why can't I have a body that is jiggle free and have a nice bobbing ponytail when I run?
How did this happen? How did I get excited about signing up for a race, only to get to the running part and have a major case of the Jan Bradys ("Marcia, Marcia, Marcia")?
My coach asked me why the run is the toughest part for me, and perhaps it is some of these negative thoughts I am having. This is going to sound awful, but I am going to go ahead and say it: I feel like everyone watching me is wondering, "what the heck is she doing here? She's no athlete?"
As I type these words, I realize that THIS needs to stop. I need to stop berating myself for not being perfect. It is kinda rude for me to think these thoughts about my body, considering it has put up with a lot of races and training and hasn't protested once to my abuse.
So, at tomorrow's race day, I vow to not compare myself to the 12% body fat woman gliding past me or feel smug when I pass a 24 year old on my bike. I am going to swim, bike and run my way into positive thoughts and find my center and all that jazz . As I am running, I will think to myself, "Jill you are a triathlete. And that is pretty awesome."
And I will kick it into high gear when I see that finish line, so I can hear the cheers of the spectators. They love a strong finish.
And so do I.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
San Jose Tri: a new PR!
The San Jose Triathlon held at Lake Almaden on Sunday was a pretty good race for me. I was hoping to improve my last Olympic time which was the LA triathlon in Sept 07. I did that race in 3:30. I did San Jose in 3:06. Whoo hoo---24 minute improvement! The most significant improvement of the race was my swim. I did LA in about 44 minutes and I did SJ in 29 minutes.
The swim was a nice smooth course and I only got kicked a few times (and I only kicked a few people on accident).
The bike went fairly well. I am trying to push myself harder, but I just need more time on the bike. There was a lovely long hill up Hellyer road, but luckily I have already gone up that hill on a training ride with Velo Girls.
The run is still where I fall apart. I did the 10k in 1:04, which seems slow considering the Uvas tri I did 5 miles in 48 minutes. I guess we will get to the root of this eventually.
Tonight I am treating myself to a post-race massage. I am pretty excited.
Next up is the Mermaid Triathlon in Fremont this Saturday. This is a smaller race, but my plan is to go hard and fast. This will be my last race until Barb's on August 2nd. After Mermaid, it will be time to kick up my training. Yikes.
The swim was a nice smooth course and I only got kicked a few times (and I only kicked a few people on accident).
The bike went fairly well. I am trying to push myself harder, but I just need more time on the bike. There was a lovely long hill up Hellyer road, but luckily I have already gone up that hill on a training ride with Velo Girls.
The run is still where I fall apart. I did the 10k in 1:04, which seems slow considering the Uvas tri I did 5 miles in 48 minutes. I guess we will get to the root of this eventually.
Tonight I am treating myself to a post-race massage. I am pretty excited.
Next up is the Mermaid Triathlon in Fremont this Saturday. This is a smaller race, but my plan is to go hard and fast. This will be my last race until Barb's on August 2nd. After Mermaid, it will be time to kick up my training. Yikes.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
The Season to Tri
Though I had my first triathlon of the year in March, I believe May definitely woke me up for the tri season. After a brutal half marathon in the beginning of the month, somehow I managed to do better than expected at Uvas.
First the learning experience of the race:
1) Pick up race packet the day before, NOT on race day. If you do race day pick-up, a chain of events unfolds ( see items 2-5).
2) Get to event early to park because you may have to wait in a long line for race day packet pick-up.
3) Make sure you have enough time to "go" before the race. You may not have time if you wait in line for race day packet pick-up.
4) Keep twisty ties and safety pins in transition bag, because race-day goodie bags may be missing them.
5) Give yourself plenty of time to get transition area organized.
The race was chaotic in the beginning. I waited in a line forever to get my packet and bib. The corral was unusual because instead of "first come, first serve", each participant was assigned a space, but there wasn't an organized system for figuring out where your spot was. Trying to find my space in a sea of 900 triathletes was quite stressful.
Once we started the race, it was smooth sailing. The swim went well. The bike ride went well, except for a brutal hill towards the end. The run sucked--which is to be expected. My legs still aren't used to the transition from biking to running. All in all, I was satisfied with my time.
Let's do a fun comparison. Here are my race results for the march triathlon:
total time: 2:18:34 Swim(3/4 mile) : 25:46 bike (16 miles) : 57:30 Run(5 miles) 48:21
The Uvas race was a bit longer than the Cal Poly one, and I was only 1 minute slower.
I think I am ready for the San Jose International Triathlon this Sunday. It will be my first Olympic distance this year, and it will be interesting to compare to LA triathlon's results from last year.
First the learning experience of the race:
1) Pick up race packet the day before, NOT on race day. If you do race day pick-up, a chain of events unfolds ( see items 2-5).
2) Get to event early to park because you may have to wait in a long line for race day packet pick-up.
3) Make sure you have enough time to "go" before the race. You may not have time if you wait in line for race day packet pick-up.
4) Keep twisty ties and safety pins in transition bag, because race-day goodie bags may be missing them.
5) Give yourself plenty of time to get transition area organized.
The race was chaotic in the beginning. I waited in a line forever to get my packet and bib. The corral was unusual because instead of "first come, first serve", each participant was assigned a space, but there wasn't an organized system for figuring out where your spot was. Trying to find my space in a sea of 900 triathletes was quite stressful.
Once we started the race, it was smooth sailing. The swim went well. The bike ride went well, except for a brutal hill towards the end. The run sucked--which is to be expected. My legs still aren't used to the transition from biking to running. All in all, I was satisfied with my time.
Let's do a fun comparison. Here are my race results for the march triathlon:
total time: 2:17:34 swim (.45 mile): 18:33 bike(14 miles): 1:10:36 run (3.1 miles): 40:17Here are the Uvas Tri results from a few weeks ago:
total time: 2:18:34 Swim(3/4 mile) : 25:46 bike (16 miles) : 57:30 Run(5 miles) 48:21
The Uvas race was a bit longer than the Cal Poly one, and I was only 1 minute slower.
I think I am ready for the San Jose International Triathlon this Sunday. It will be my first Olympic distance this year, and it will be interesting to compare to LA triathlon's results from last year.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
How Jillly got her groove back!
It is amazing how much one weekend can change a girl's attitude.
I started the month of May with the not-so-great Sacramento half-marathon and trying not to think of the Uvas Triathlon in mid-month. My last triathlon in March was an embarrassment, and I had a hard time visualizing myself at this next triathlon.
On a personal non-racing level, I was not looking forward to the month of May. It was turning into one of those times where everything explodes: not only was work becoming insane as I had to prepare for 3 huge events with a total of 450 people attending, but my husband and I also put an offer on our first house! The double stress and obligations put a small snag in my training plans and I was getting a little nervous about Uvas.
The day before Mother's day, I participated in the Human Race with a team from work. Part of me was thinking about registering for the 5k or 10k and running the race, but I decided that my spirit---and wallet---needed a break from competing. So, instead of competing, I did something I hadn't done in a looooong time: I walked a race! It was a great experience, because I was surrounded by people united for one reason: to bring awareness to stroke. Our team dedicated the race to a stroke survivor and her caregiver/husband. I believe this was their 7th year doing the race, and it was inspiring to see her get out of her wheelchair to walk across the start and finish lines. I know the stroke survivor's story and how far she has come to get herself to cross that line and it definitely puts things into perspective.
On Mother's Day, I was talking to my 10-year-old niece about running. My brother had mentioned that she likes to go for runs and I immediately decided that I wanted to do a race with her. I invited her to be my buddy for the Girls on the Run 5k , a race put on by a non-profit that works with teaming up mentors with young girls to help with self-esteem and learn about running. We ran to the computer and logged onto Active.com and my excitement started to build as we selected our t-shirt sizes. I couldn't wait to run a race with her---maybe now I could get a family member to do these events with me. So, who cares that the race is a day before Uvas!
My niece and I had a blast. I loved playing the role of Coach Aunt Jill and took her out for dinner the night before (carbo-loading at Pasta Pomodoro). We laid our race clothes out on the floor the night before and set the alarm for 6:00. I woke up right away, and let her sleep in a little. Since I am not a mom, I didn't quite take into consideration the preparation involved with a 10 year old. I was already nervous about parking and packet pick up, so I rushed us to the car. She said something about breakfast, and I told her we could grab something on the way. I didn't have enough time for a Starbucks stop, so I gave her some Luna Moons ("They are like candy for athletes" is what I told her). She ate some of them and we made it to the start line surrounded by 1200 athletes (3/4 of whom were under the age of 18). We ran through Vasona Park and were given beads at each mile. I told my niece that if she needed to walk, we would walk. I told her if her body is telling her something, she must listen to it. We stopped at water stops and I was amazed at how well she was doing. However, around 2 1/2 miles she said the infamous little kid words: "I don't feel so good." And I said the infamous adult words: "Are you going to throw up?"
I will spare you the rest of the story. I rubbed her back and asked if she wanted to walk or just go home. She said she would walk and finish the race. As we walked, I told her that now she is a real runner---even though she got sick, she still made the decision to finish the race.
The crowd cheered us on at mile three and soon we saw the finish line. I looked at her and said, "This is it. Let's go all out and finish this strong." We sprinted to the finish line and I was so excited to see that look in her eyes of determination and pushing herself to her limits. I recognized that look as I have had it before many times. She told me she had fun, but next time she needed breakfast. I smiled sheepishly and agreed while mentally I started thinking about all the races we could sign up for.
After I dropped her off, I thought about how amazing it is to be in an event like a run or triathlon. I have been surrounded by people who all have goals set just for themselves, be it completing their first 10k, running an ultra-marathon or finding the strength to get themselves out of a wheelchair to cross a start line. How awesome is it to be surrounded by people all determined to improve themselves?
As excitement poured through my body I knew one thing:
I was ready for Uvas the next day.
I started the month of May with the not-so-great Sacramento half-marathon and trying not to think of the Uvas Triathlon in mid-month. My last triathlon in March was an embarrassment, and I had a hard time visualizing myself at this next triathlon.
On a personal non-racing level, I was not looking forward to the month of May. It was turning into one of those times where everything explodes: not only was work becoming insane as I had to prepare for 3 huge events with a total of 450 people attending, but my husband and I also put an offer on our first house! The double stress and obligations put a small snag in my training plans and I was getting a little nervous about Uvas.
The day before Mother's day, I participated in the Human Race with a team from work. Part of me was thinking about registering for the 5k or 10k and running the race, but I decided that my spirit---and wallet---needed a break from competing. So, instead of competing, I did something I hadn't done in a looooong time: I walked a race! It was a great experience, because I was surrounded by people united for one reason: to bring awareness to stroke. Our team dedicated the race to a stroke survivor and her caregiver/husband. I believe this was their 7th year doing the race, and it was inspiring to see her get out of her wheelchair to walk across the start and finish lines. I know the stroke survivor's story and how far she has come to get herself to cross that line and it definitely puts things into perspective.
On Mother's Day, I was talking to my 10-year-old niece about running. My brother had mentioned that she likes to go for runs and I immediately decided that I wanted to do a race with her. I invited her to be my buddy for the Girls on the Run 5k , a race put on by a non-profit that works with teaming up mentors with young girls to help with self-esteem and learn about running. We ran to the computer and logged onto Active.com and my excitement started to build as we selected our t-shirt sizes. I couldn't wait to run a race with her---maybe now I could get a family member to do these events with me. So, who cares that the race is a day before Uvas!
My niece and I had a blast. I loved playing the role of Coach Aunt Jill and took her out for dinner the night before (carbo-loading at Pasta Pomodoro). We laid our race clothes out on the floor the night before and set the alarm for 6:00. I woke up right away, and let her sleep in a little. Since I am not a mom, I didn't quite take into consideration the preparation involved with a 10 year old. I was already nervous about parking and packet pick up, so I rushed us to the car. She said something about breakfast, and I told her we could grab something on the way. I didn't have enough time for a Starbucks stop, so I gave her some Luna Moons ("They are like candy for athletes" is what I told her). She ate some of them and we made it to the start line surrounded by 1200 athletes (3/4 of whom were under the age of 18). We ran through Vasona Park and were given beads at each mile. I told my niece that if she needed to walk, we would walk. I told her if her body is telling her something, she must listen to it. We stopped at water stops and I was amazed at how well she was doing. However, around 2 1/2 miles she said the infamous little kid words: "I don't feel so good." And I said the infamous adult words: "Are you going to throw up?"
I will spare you the rest of the story. I rubbed her back and asked if she wanted to walk or just go home. She said she would walk and finish the race. As we walked, I told her that now she is a real runner---even though she got sick, she still made the decision to finish the race.
The crowd cheered us on at mile three and soon we saw the finish line. I looked at her and said, "This is it. Let's go all out and finish this strong." We sprinted to the finish line and I was so excited to see that look in her eyes of determination and pushing herself to her limits. I recognized that look as I have had it before many times. She told me she had fun, but next time she needed breakfast. I smiled sheepishly and agreed while mentally I started thinking about all the races we could sign up for.
After I dropped her off, I thought about how amazing it is to be in an event like a run or triathlon. I have been surrounded by people who all have goals set just for themselves, be it completing their first 10k, running an ultra-marathon or finding the strength to get themselves out of a wheelchair to cross a start line. How awesome is it to be surrounded by people all determined to improve themselves?
As excitement poured through my body I knew one thing:
I was ready for Uvas the next day.
Monday, May 19, 2008
The risk we take...
At the beginning of this month, something happened that deep down I knew would eventually happen:
I didn't meet my goal.
I believe the risk of failing is one of the things we have to consider when we set goals for ourselves. My goal seemed simple enough: a sub 2 hour American River Parkway Half Marathon. I had completed a half marathon in late March at a little under a 2:03, so shaving off 3 minutes didn't seem that impossible.
I finished at 2:10:32. It was the first race I have ever done where the thought of ditching the race midpoint was tempting.
My time for the Silicon Valley half-marathon in October last year was 2:10:50. Not only did I fail at meeting my goal, I was only 20 seconds faster than I was 7 months ago. Let me remind you that this was before my crazy training.
As I crossed the finish line-- barely making eye contact with the clock that clearly showed my shortcomings---I felt the weight of defeat on my shoulders. Let's make one thing clear---I am not going out to win the gold, silver or even place in the top 10 of my age group. I run for a different reason, which is to beat one person: myself. I go in with the mentality of hoping to beat whatever time I did before, because that must mean I have improved. But what does it mean when 7 months go by (2 1/2 of which were fairly intense training) and I only improve 20 seconds?
The disappointment I felt in myself brought a thought that I tried to push aside: why bother working so hard if the payoff isn't there? This thought is what I call being in the dark place of running and teetering so close to the edge where drooling over running shoes doesn't seem as important as being a couch zombie zoning on reality TV. I feared that my tendency to not finish what I started would come back because I know my personality likes to take on things quickly but lacks the drive to follow them through.
Luckily I snapped out of being a whiny baby and just accepted the fact that some runners must face eventually: it just wasn't my race. This realization is a sort of sporty version of "He's just not that into you." There are a ton of excuses I could list ranging from unexpected muscle problems, the stress of getting lost on the freeway before the race, not having coffee...but making excuses won't make those 10 minutes and 32 seconds disappear from my time.
So what is a girl to do? I forced myself to adhere to the needlepoint wisdom of learning from my mistakes and acknowledging the positives. So I didn't beat my time, but it was the first half marathon where I didn't have tummy issues. Yea! I also had to remind myself that this wasn't even my big event. My big triathlon is in August so getting all worked up about this race isn't going to help me at the half-iron man. Now I just look at Sacramento as a tiny blip on my running radar. It was merely a training run that got me and my husband out of town for the
weekend for a much needed getaway.
I know someday I will be under two hours. Just not that race--- and that is still fine with me.
I didn't meet my goal.
I believe the risk of failing is one of the things we have to consider when we set goals for ourselves. My goal seemed simple enough: a sub 2 hour American River Parkway Half Marathon. I had completed a half marathon in late March at a little under a 2:03, so shaving off 3 minutes didn't seem that impossible.
I finished at 2:10:32. It was the first race I have ever done where the thought of ditching the race midpoint was tempting.
My time for the Silicon Valley half-marathon in October last year was 2:10:50. Not only did I fail at meeting my goal, I was only 20 seconds faster than I was 7 months ago. Let me remind you that this was before my crazy training.
As I crossed the finish line-- barely making eye contact with the clock that clearly showed my shortcomings---I felt the weight of defeat on my shoulders. Let's make one thing clear---I am not going out to win the gold, silver or even place in the top 10 of my age group. I run for a different reason, which is to beat one person: myself. I go in with the mentality of hoping to beat whatever time I did before, because that must mean I have improved. But what does it mean when 7 months go by (2 1/2 of which were fairly intense training) and I only improve 20 seconds?
The disappointment I felt in myself brought a thought that I tried to push aside: why bother working so hard if the payoff isn't there? This thought is what I call being in the dark place of running and teetering so close to the edge where drooling over running shoes doesn't seem as important as being a couch zombie zoning on reality TV. I feared that my tendency to not finish what I started would come back because I know my personality likes to take on things quickly but lacks the drive to follow them through.
Luckily I snapped out of being a whiny baby and just accepted the fact that some runners must face eventually: it just wasn't my race. This realization is a sort of sporty version of "He's just not that into you." There are a ton of excuses I could list ranging from unexpected muscle problems, the stress of getting lost on the freeway before the race, not having coffee...but making excuses won't make those 10 minutes and 32 seconds disappear from my time.
So what is a girl to do? I forced myself to adhere to the needlepoint wisdom of learning from my mistakes and acknowledging the positives. So I didn't beat my time, but it was the first half marathon where I didn't have tummy issues. Yea! I also had to remind myself that this wasn't even my big event. My big triathlon is in August so getting all worked up about this race isn't going to help me at the half-iron man. Now I just look at Sacramento as a tiny blip on my running radar. It was merely a training run that got me and my husband out of town for the
weekend for a much needed getaway.
I know someday I will be under two hours. Just not that race--- and that is still fine with me.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Open Water: friend or foe?
I realized something this weekend: triathlons are a disgusting sport. I am familiar with the gross-out factors of running (porto potties, tummies jostling up and down, toenails that fall off) and cycling (bugs splatting on your helmet, saddle sores, other cyclists spitting--or worse--on you) . The triathlon has all of those aspects--with the addition of one more friend: the open water swim.
Swimming in lakes is perhaps the foulest part of a triathlon. I had a swim clinic at the Fremont Quarry on Saturday and tried not to think about what I was swimming in (i.e. goose poop delicacies). Ocean swimming isn't as disgusting unless you are swimming in slimy seaweed wrapping itself around your legs. Ocean swimming is more nerve racking to me because I hear the theme song to "Jaws" in my head. Lake swimming is just plain gnarly. The water is murky, suspiciously warm, and smelly. Plus, I have been to Lake Berryessa before. I witnessed what kinda of drunken, beer-bong debauchery goes on in those lakes on a holiday weekend. Blech.
But, in all honesty, I actually enjoyed my swim on Saturday. I think the thing that worked for me was thinking about other things, and not water snakes swimming under my torso. So, I swam and thought about lengthening my body and timing my breaths. I thought about finding the place I was swimming to and how to get there in a relatively straight line. I thought about how to keep my pace steady, yet fast so in a real triathlon I don't burn-out.
And, of course, I thought,: "Oh crap. My half-iron is 3 months away. Seriously?"
Swimming in lakes is perhaps the foulest part of a triathlon. I had a swim clinic at the Fremont Quarry on Saturday and tried not to think about what I was swimming in (i.e. goose poop delicacies). Ocean swimming isn't as disgusting unless you are swimming in slimy seaweed wrapping itself around your legs. Ocean swimming is more nerve racking to me because I hear the theme song to "Jaws" in my head. Lake swimming is just plain gnarly. The water is murky, suspiciously warm, and smelly. Plus, I have been to Lake Berryessa before. I witnessed what kinda of drunken, beer-bong debauchery goes on in those lakes on a holiday weekend. Blech.
But, in all honesty, I actually enjoyed my swim on Saturday. I think the thing that worked for me was thinking about other things, and not water snakes swimming under my torso. So, I swam and thought about lengthening my body and timing my breaths. I thought about finding the place I was swimming to and how to get there in a relatively straight line. I thought about how to keep my pace steady, yet fast so in a real triathlon I don't burn-out.
And, of course, I thought,: "Oh crap. My half-iron is 3 months away. Seriously?"
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Tierra Bella...kinda rock and roll
Yesterday's Tierra Bella ride went very well. Dennis and decided to stay at my parents in Morgan Hill and catch the route from there rather than meet the crowd at Gavilan college. Oh my goodness was it chilly yesterday. I left my windbreaker at home and was worried that I would be cold, to which Dennis responded: "Pedal faster." Thanks hon.
The ride itself had some very nice parts. We had a fairly long climb up Gilroy Hot Springs road. I think the toughest part of a new route is that I don't know the hills. We made our way downhill, passed Monterey road to Santa Teresa in Gilroy. From there we took Day road to Watsonville Road and eventually went to Uvas Reservoir. That was probably my sixth time cycling up Uvas, which is a good thing because I am doing the Uvas triathlon next month and will be fairly familiar with the road.
Today I met my friend Cheryl for a hike at Rancho San Antonio---one of my favorite places to trail run. The parking lot was way too crowded and we couldn't find a spot So we hopped into her car and headed to Montebello Open Space preserve. As we were driving down Foothill we saw quite a few runners on the road. I realized it was part of the California Relay ( a race that goes from Calistoga to Santa Cruz where each runner does 5-7 mile legs). I immediately felt envious and made a mental note to make a concerted effort in finding a team next year.
The hike was gorgeous! You can see all the way to the bay. We parked at Picchetti winery and caught the trail from there and even managed to do a tasting after the hour and a half long hike.
Time for bed now because I have to swim at 6:30 tomorrow!
The ride itself had some very nice parts. We had a fairly long climb up Gilroy Hot Springs road. I think the toughest part of a new route is that I don't know the hills. We made our way downhill, passed Monterey road to Santa Teresa in Gilroy. From there we took Day road to Watsonville Road and eventually went to Uvas Reservoir. That was probably my sixth time cycling up Uvas, which is a good thing because I am doing the Uvas triathlon next month and will be fairly familiar with the road.
Today I met my friend Cheryl for a hike at Rancho San Antonio---one of my favorite places to trail run. The parking lot was way too crowded and we couldn't find a spot So we hopped into her car and headed to Montebello Open Space preserve. As we were driving down Foothill we saw quite a few runners on the road. I realized it was part of the California Relay ( a race that goes from Calistoga to Santa Cruz where each runner does 5-7 mile legs). I immediately felt envious and made a mental note to make a concerted effort in finding a team next year.
The hike was gorgeous! You can see all the way to the bay. We parked at Picchetti winery and caught the trail from there and even managed to do a tasting after the hour and a half long hike.
Time for bed now because I have to swim at 6:30 tomorrow!
Friday, April 18, 2008
It has been awhile....
The bad news: I am a crappy blogger. I had high hopes of updating my blog daily and that didn't happen.
The good news: a half-iron man only seems like a half-crazy idea and not fully crazy.
February was dedicated to getting into shape. Or rather, I started my roughly 6 month process of getting in shape. I joined Team Mermaid, which has the awesome coach Heidi leading us on workouts to help us get to whatever goal we have individually. It is a great group of women and we meet 2-3 times a week. I learned about the famous core and did a variety of exercises to strengthen said core. I found myself doing squats, sit-ups, something called an inch-worm and a variety of other movements designed to make my abs, tushie and thighs strong. It took about a week to recover from my 1st workout and for my abs not to ache when I sneezed.
March was dedicated to running. It worked out well in terms of gaging my results because I had a race at the beginning of the month and one at the end. I raced in the Happy Hour 10k Run the first weekend of March in downtown San Jose. My time was 1:01:26 which is a 10:28 mile pace. After a month of great training (tempo runs, long runs, stair-step breathing), I finished the last weekend of March with the mermaid Half-Marathon. My time for that was: 2:02:54--roughly a 9:35 pace. It was a PR for me and I felt awesome, aside from the gigantic blister on one of my toes so gross and intimidating that my husband refused to pop it for me.
Somehow I managed to squeeze my first triathlon of the year into the month of March. It was a sprint triathlon put on my the Cal Poly tri-team. My time was so embarrassing, that I refuse to blog it. Though, if you are really curious, I am sure you can Google the results. That triathlon kicked my bootie---those Cal Poly Kids do not mess around! We started with the lake swim at Lopez Lake, which was my first time swimming in a wet suit. The water was 52 degrees---brrzziees! The bike was the toughest part for me, even though it was only 16 miles. The hill before the halfway turn-around was brutal and many people wound up walking their bikes up it. I didn't walk, but my chain fell off as I was puffing my way up the hill. My pedals were moving but the bike was not. Luckily I clipped out of my pedals and saved myself from falling over and possibly causing a pile up. By the time I reached the last transition and was ready to run, I was exhausted. Though it was a tough race for me, it definitely was a wake-up call for what I signed up for in August.
April is all about introducing the other two sports into my training: swimming and cycling. I did the Cinderella Century at the beginning of April. It was a blast. Imagine 2500 cycling through Pleasanton, Livermoore and San Ramon wearing crowns and fairy wings. I definitely will be wearing a costume next year. Tomorrow is the Tierra Bella Century in Gilroy and Morgan Hill. I signed up because I am a South County girl at heart.
The addition of the two other sports is a little challenging---I think my body is confused because I am not solely using my running muscles.
My next big event is the American River Half-Marathon on May 3rd. I am hoping to break 2 hours, but will be happy to at least be faster than the Mermaid.
The good news: a half-iron man only seems like a half-crazy idea and not fully crazy.
February was dedicated to getting into shape. Or rather, I started my roughly 6 month process of getting in shape. I joined Team Mermaid, which has the awesome coach Heidi leading us on workouts to help us get to whatever goal we have individually. It is a great group of women and we meet 2-3 times a week. I learned about the famous core and did a variety of exercises to strengthen said core. I found myself doing squats, sit-ups, something called an inch-worm and a variety of other movements designed to make my abs, tushie and thighs strong. It took about a week to recover from my 1st workout and for my abs not to ache when I sneezed.
March was dedicated to running. It worked out well in terms of gaging my results because I had a race at the beginning of the month and one at the end. I raced in the Happy Hour 10k Run the first weekend of March in downtown San Jose. My time was 1:01:26 which is a 10:28 mile pace. After a month of great training (tempo runs, long runs, stair-step breathing), I finished the last weekend of March with the mermaid Half-Marathon. My time for that was: 2:02:54--roughly a 9:35 pace. It was a PR for me and I felt awesome, aside from the gigantic blister on one of my toes so gross and intimidating that my husband refused to pop it for me.
Somehow I managed to squeeze my first triathlon of the year into the month of March. It was a sprint triathlon put on my the Cal Poly tri-team. My time was so embarrassing, that I refuse to blog it. Though, if you are really curious, I am sure you can Google the results. That triathlon kicked my bootie---those Cal Poly Kids do not mess around! We started with the lake swim at Lopez Lake, which was my first time swimming in a wet suit. The water was 52 degrees---brrzziees! The bike was the toughest part for me, even though it was only 16 miles. The hill before the halfway turn-around was brutal and many people wound up walking their bikes up it. I didn't walk, but my chain fell off as I was puffing my way up the hill. My pedals were moving but the bike was not. Luckily I clipped out of my pedals and saved myself from falling over and possibly causing a pile up. By the time I reached the last transition and was ready to run, I was exhausted. Though it was a tough race for me, it definitely was a wake-up call for what I signed up for in August.
April is all about introducing the other two sports into my training: swimming and cycling. I did the Cinderella Century at the beginning of April. It was a blast. Imagine 2500 cycling through Pleasanton, Livermoore and San Ramon wearing crowns and fairy wings. I definitely will be wearing a costume next year. Tomorrow is the Tierra Bella Century in Gilroy and Morgan Hill. I signed up because I am a South County girl at heart.
The addition of the two other sports is a little challenging---I think my body is confused because I am not solely using my running muscles.
My next big event is the American River Half-Marathon on May 3rd. I am hoping to break 2 hours, but will be happy to at least be faster than the Mermaid.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
darn rain!
So, I finally got off my butt and actually worked out this weekend! I did the Pacifica Trail Run on Saturday. I only did the 9k becauseit was my first trail run. Let me just say---holy cow! Trail Running is definitely a different animal then the nice paved runs I usually do. I am surprised I didn't bite it---though I came might close on tripping on rocks going down hill. It was a good time though, and I will probably do it again.
Sunday was the longest bike ride I have done since the day after Thanksgiving. I am doing the mardi Gras Meric Cenury in Ventura in a little over a month and need to train for that. The ride was nice: I went to Stevens Creek Reservoir, up Mount Eden, took highway 9 down to Los Gatos and then caught Shannon Road to Hicks.
How come the best bike rides are where all the fancy pants houses are?
My ride came in at about 38 miles. I am hoping to add 10 miles to this weeks ride, but it is apparently raining forever...
Sunday was the longest bike ride I have done since the day after Thanksgiving. I am doing the mardi Gras Meric Cenury in Ventura in a little over a month and need to train for that. The ride was nice: I went to Stevens Creek Reservoir, up Mount Eden, took highway 9 down to Los Gatos and then caught Shannon Road to Hicks.
How come the best bike rides are where all the fancy pants houses are?
My ride came in at about 38 miles. I am hoping to add 10 miles to this weeks ride, but it is apparently raining forever...
Thursday, January 10, 2008
How did I get here?
I was not a born athlete. I wasn't, however, a sedentary child. I took part in such activities as soft-ball, ballet, tap dancing and the swim team. I now realize my problem back then was that I lacked the drive and competitive spirit to push myself into being better at sports. I showed up to practice, did recitals and was in the slowest heats of swim meets. I enjoyed myself, but figured I would never be the best, so why try harder? I also NEVER enjoyed running.
Then something truly horrendous and embarrassing happened when I was 15. It was the last dance of Junior High and it was a BIG DEAL. My friends and I got all gussied up in our floral print formals and suntan-colored nylons (the early 90s weren't known for its excellent fashion sense). We danced and danced in our circle of six girls. We did the Cabbage Patch to MC Hammer and slow danced with boys to Unchained Melody. And then, it happened...
I don't know what song we were dancing to---perhaps I blocked it out. I just remember that it must have been fast-paced, because we were dancing in a style that involved legs flailing. One of my friend's (I don't know which one because it was dark and happened so fast) high-heeled pumps made contact with my knee and I fell to the ground. I started laughing because I was known as a a klutz and falling down wasn't exactly a surprise event. Unfortunately, I realized I was in pain. It was a pain that I never felt before and my knee kept on seizing up. The, when I looked down, I saw that my kneecap was sticking out in a way that it had never stuck out before.
I dislocated my knee not in the usual way (i.e. soccer, skiing etc), but at a freakin' high school dance!
That is so me!
I will spare you the details of the next year. Long story short: spent a summer of physical therapy and in a cast that went from my ankle to mid thigh, dislocated it again and had knee surgery the day after my 16th birthday. I have a pretty cool scar on my knee that is about 2 inches long. The trauma of the injury, however, messed with my head big time. I didn't trust my knee at all and did no physical activities. I never wanted to feel that kind of pain again.
I didn't get into running until I was 21 and moved back to California from going to school in Oregon. The irony of the situation is that for the two years I lived in Eugene-- which is practically the top running city in the United States ---I never ran.
I started slow and short: 3 miles, 4 miles and the occasional 6 mile. A few years went by and I saw a poster for a training program for the Honolulu Marathon. It was sponsored by The National AIDS Marathon Training program. They put on group training runs (all the way up to a 26 mile training run in Golden Gate Park a month before the race) and, in return, I would fund raise for The SF AIDS Foundation. It was a long 6 month program, but perfect for anyone who wasn't an experienced runner but wanted to complete a marathon.
Though I felt immense satisfaction in my completion of the 26.2 mile race, I never wanted to do a marathon again. My body hurt, my IT Band was inflamed and my time sucked: 6.5 hours! I went back to my old way of thinking: why bother improving if I am not going to win?
Fast forward to four years later and something clicked: I started getting into half marathons. I did the Santa Cruz Half Marathon, CSU Monterey Bay half Marathon, Disneyland, San Franciso and San Jose Rock'n'Roll. Suddenly I was getting competitive---though my big competitor was myself. I didn't have grand delusions of being the winner, but I didn't want to beat my last race. I started the season with the Monterey Bay run in the Spring with a time of about 2:18 and improved down to a 2:09 in Disneyland in September.
Then, in the fall of 2006, I received an e-mail promoting the inaugural Eugene marathon. I remebered my vow of never doing a marathon again. I then called my enabler---I mean, friend, Robyn. She had done Honolulu (though much faster than my time) with me and we had also met 11 years ago in Eugene. We convinced each other to sign up, and then BAM! I was on my way to training for a marathon.
This race, I told myself, was going to be different. I was going to improve my time. I wasn't going to take walk breaks. Training was NOT going to take up half my year. I downloaded Hal Higdon's training program and enterred all my future workouts on my Outlook calendar. I was going to be ready for this beast.
There was, however, a little snag in my training plan. My work was sending me to India for three weeks about one and a half months before my race. Though I was excited to go to India, I was nervous about my training program. I had an 18 and 20 mile run scheduled for the weeks I was there. I convinced myself that I would somehow train over there and bought a nice fashionable fuel belt so I could hydrate well during my training.
India was amazing: colorful, surreal, awesome food and friendly people. It was not, I realized my second day there, the best place to train for a marathon. Not only was it hot, but it was humid and the air quality was a lot different from what my California raised lungs were used to breathing. I ran a couple times outside and discovered the (non-air conditioned) gym in my office. At first I thought I was going fast onthe treadmill because my pace was 8.5 and I was not even winded. Then I realized something: they use the metric system in India. So insteady of 8.5 miles an hour, it was 8.5 km. oops.
The Eugene run went ok. I ran the whole thing, but my body was not very happy with the grand latte I ingested before the race. It was a great feeling running past the dorms I lived in and realizing that I was in much better shape at 30 then I was at 18. I also beat my Honolulu time: 4:59!
My recovery was dreadful. My husband and I drove back to California the day after the race---about 9 hours in a car. Then a day after returning, I was back on a plane for a second trip to India. A 15 hour flight is not the best post-marathon activity. I spent about a month hating running. My legs felt like lead whenever I tried to run. My mind and body were defeated.
I decided I needed a new hobby. I think hubby was tired of my bitching about running, because we suddenly found ourselves in a bike shop getting ready to upgrade my cruiser to a road bike. We bought a beautiful aqua blue Trek. When I got home, I immediately signed up for a sprint triathlon.
I loved my first triathlon and was instantly hooked. I decided to sign up for the LA Triathlon and accidentally registered for the Olympic distance. I am an ok swimmer, but could I swim almost a mile in the Ocean?
The LA Tri was a blast. The swim was difficult, but once I found my pace and the ocean was calm, I was fine.
So, that triathlon was in September. My races for the remainder of 2007 were sporadic and unsatisfying. I signed up for a couple half marathons on a whim, didn't train well and didn't break any PRs. I started getting lazy and squishy and decided I needed a new goal.
And that is what brought me to signing up for Barb's Race, the 1/2 ironman that is in just about 7 months.
So...here I go. My training starts today by deciding from now on I will walk the 11 flights of stairs to work instead of the elevator.
It's a start, right?
Then something truly horrendous and embarrassing happened when I was 15. It was the last dance of Junior High and it was a BIG DEAL. My friends and I got all gussied up in our floral print formals and suntan-colored nylons (the early 90s weren't known for its excellent fashion sense). We danced and danced in our circle of six girls. We did the Cabbage Patch to MC Hammer and slow danced with boys to Unchained Melody. And then, it happened...
I don't know what song we were dancing to---perhaps I blocked it out. I just remember that it must have been fast-paced, because we were dancing in a style that involved legs flailing. One of my friend's (I don't know which one because it was dark and happened so fast) high-heeled pumps made contact with my knee and I fell to the ground. I started laughing because I was known as a a klutz and falling down wasn't exactly a surprise event. Unfortunately, I realized I was in pain. It was a pain that I never felt before and my knee kept on seizing up. The, when I looked down, I saw that my kneecap was sticking out in a way that it had never stuck out before.
I dislocated my knee not in the usual way (i.e. soccer, skiing etc), but at a freakin' high school dance!
That is so me!
I will spare you the details of the next year. Long story short: spent a summer of physical therapy and in a cast that went from my ankle to mid thigh, dislocated it again and had knee surgery the day after my 16th birthday. I have a pretty cool scar on my knee that is about 2 inches long. The trauma of the injury, however, messed with my head big time. I didn't trust my knee at all and did no physical activities. I never wanted to feel that kind of pain again.
I didn't get into running until I was 21 and moved back to California from going to school in Oregon. The irony of the situation is that for the two years I lived in Eugene-- which is practically the top running city in the United States ---I never ran.
I started slow and short: 3 miles, 4 miles and the occasional 6 mile. A few years went by and I saw a poster for a training program for the Honolulu Marathon. It was sponsored by The National AIDS Marathon Training program. They put on group training runs (all the way up to a 26 mile training run in Golden Gate Park a month before the race) and, in return, I would fund raise for The SF AIDS Foundation. It was a long 6 month program, but perfect for anyone who wasn't an experienced runner but wanted to complete a marathon.
Though I felt immense satisfaction in my completion of the 26.2 mile race, I never wanted to do a marathon again. My body hurt, my IT Band was inflamed and my time sucked: 6.5 hours! I went back to my old way of thinking: why bother improving if I am not going to win?
Fast forward to four years later and something clicked: I started getting into half marathons. I did the Santa Cruz Half Marathon, CSU Monterey Bay half Marathon, Disneyland, San Franciso and San Jose Rock'n'Roll. Suddenly I was getting competitive---though my big competitor was myself. I didn't have grand delusions of being the winner, but I didn't want to beat my last race. I started the season with the Monterey Bay run in the Spring with a time of about 2:18 and improved down to a 2:09 in Disneyland in September.
Then, in the fall of 2006, I received an e-mail promoting the inaugural Eugene marathon. I remebered my vow of never doing a marathon again. I then called my enabler---I mean, friend, Robyn. She had done Honolulu (though much faster than my time) with me and we had also met 11 years ago in Eugene. We convinced each other to sign up, and then BAM! I was on my way to training for a marathon.
This race, I told myself, was going to be different. I was going to improve my time. I wasn't going to take walk breaks. Training was NOT going to take up half my year. I downloaded Hal Higdon's training program and enterred all my future workouts on my Outlook calendar. I was going to be ready for this beast.
There was, however, a little snag in my training plan. My work was sending me to India for three weeks about one and a half months before my race. Though I was excited to go to India, I was nervous about my training program. I had an 18 and 20 mile run scheduled for the weeks I was there. I convinced myself that I would somehow train over there and bought a nice fashionable fuel belt so I could hydrate well during my training.
India was amazing: colorful, surreal, awesome food and friendly people. It was not, I realized my second day there, the best place to train for a marathon. Not only was it hot, but it was humid and the air quality was a lot different from what my California raised lungs were used to breathing. I ran a couple times outside and discovered the (non-air conditioned) gym in my office. At first I thought I was going fast onthe treadmill because my pace was 8.5 and I was not even winded. Then I realized something: they use the metric system in India. So insteady of 8.5 miles an hour, it was 8.5 km. oops.
The Eugene run went ok. I ran the whole thing, but my body was not very happy with the grand latte I ingested before the race. It was a great feeling running past the dorms I lived in and realizing that I was in much better shape at 30 then I was at 18. I also beat my Honolulu time: 4:59!
My recovery was dreadful. My husband and I drove back to California the day after the race---about 9 hours in a car. Then a day after returning, I was back on a plane for a second trip to India. A 15 hour flight is not the best post-marathon activity. I spent about a month hating running. My legs felt like lead whenever I tried to run. My mind and body were defeated.
I decided I needed a new hobby. I think hubby was tired of my bitching about running, because we suddenly found ourselves in a bike shop getting ready to upgrade my cruiser to a road bike. We bought a beautiful aqua blue Trek. When I got home, I immediately signed up for a sprint triathlon.
I loved my first triathlon and was instantly hooked. I decided to sign up for the LA Triathlon and accidentally registered for the Olympic distance. I am an ok swimmer, but could I swim almost a mile in the Ocean?
The LA Tri was a blast. The swim was difficult, but once I found my pace and the ocean was calm, I was fine.
So, that triathlon was in September. My races for the remainder of 2007 were sporadic and unsatisfying. I signed up for a couple half marathons on a whim, didn't train well and didn't break any PRs. I started getting lazy and squishy and decided I needed a new goal.
And that is what brought me to signing up for Barb's Race, the 1/2 ironman that is in just about 7 months.
So...here I go. My training starts today by deciding from now on I will walk the 11 flights of stairs to work instead of the elevator.
It's a start, right?
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