Flip Turns

Tonight I swam and without giving it any advanced thought, swam the 2100 yd workout with all flip turns.  Swimming is a lot harder without that extra breath at the turn.  For the record, the longest set (interval? not sure of the right term) in the workout was 200 yds and I'm not sure that I could have done much more than that with all flips.  But, I'll take your congratulations anyway;)

Yesterday I cleaned out my extra room and stumbled across a bunch of letters and cards from a few ex-boyfriends.  Its funny no matter how long ago it was and how over it you are, reading these things can make you do a flip turn.  Maybe its just knowing that there was a time when you read these things and didn't have the clarity of hind sight to realize that they were all bullshit that throws you for a loop.  It maybe makes you appreciate the ones that just walk away without leaving a written legacy.

Maybe.

 

Busy is Better

or blame it on facebook

I think alot of my recent melancholy is caused by facebook.

Don't get me wrong, I love the fb and can only hope that they never make it so you can see who accesses your page. Because then my stalking will be significantly curtailed.

But it also let's you know what is going on with people that you haven't seen or spoken to in years. All of whom seem to have kids or spouses or other pretty things that they can take pictures of and list neatly in their profile. Its much easier to evidence a baby and a husband on a facebook page than it is to evidence a job at which you are appreciated (even if you spend entirely too much time at it) or a workout that clicks or an apartment you love or that you have a crock pot and managed to make a pot roast that fed your grandparents for 3 meals.

Sometime it takes being so insanely busy (at work and otherwise) that you can't think about what you don't have and can't change and instead learn to appreciate what you do have and don't want to change.

Hard

Admittedly, I tend toward the melodramatic, but I feel that life's been hard lately.  Which is maybe why I haven't written.  Because this is supposed to be about so much fun, and lately it seems that I can barely get through the day.

I've been trying really hard to go to yoga once a week, and in every class my 'intention' is to 'accept the things I can not change' because otherwise I labor through my day worrying about those things.  Its a long list and it bring me to hyperventilation or tears almost daily.  It includes broad out of my control things like: the economy, my personal job security, whether the country will possibly recover from the next 4-8 years in my lifetime, if the boy has disappeared or is just busy, if he's disappeared why, if I like him anyway, if I'll ever get married, if I'll ever have kids, if I could in good faith bring a child into this world given the way I feel about the next 4-8 years, when Joe Biden's predicted attack will occur ... and I'm sure there is more.

I've also been insanely busy at work (which is good) but makes it hard for me to fit in workouts which in turn makes me more inclined to worry anxiously.  

A vicious circle really.

But I'm trying. Some days and weeks start off with good resolve.  And tomorrow has potential - yoga and a haircut in the morning and then probably a long day of work ... not ideal, but at least a plan.  And I am planning races and maybe ski trips and possibly a Christmas party - all things to look forward to and well within my control.

So just know that I'm here and I'm trying and I'll be back with more regularity when hyperventilating isn't taking up so much of my time:)

Later.

October is a Boring Month Anyway

I mean really, I don't like Halloween and that means October is really just time after the summer and before birthdays, Thanksgiving and Christmas.  So I skipped it, at least for purposes of this blog.  But I was out there doing whatever it is I do to occupy my days.  

In this time I learned that trying not to care works right up until you start to care.  And when you start to care, it all goes away.  Its just the way life works.  At least for me.  The transition from caring to not is harder than the transition from not caring to caring but marathon and football watching with friends makes it easier.  Right up until there is a lull in the conversation and the silence crashes down around you, leaving you to wonder how you'd explain breaking inexplicably into tears without sounding like a raving lunatic.  And sometimes if you just express how miserable you are it makes it better.  Even if you decide the easiest ear is your engaged ex-boyfriend.  Which makes you pathetic in addition to miserable but at least not crying in the bar. 

I also learned that its easier to work out before work now that the clock have changed.  Its easier to eat well when there is good food in the house.  And yoga.  I like yoga.  And as we sit potentially on the brink of a great depression and our country is faced with a decision that if made poorly will be disastrous, I just hope for the "serenity to know the difference" because if you can't control you can't change it no matter how hard you try.

On Wednesday I age another year.  I hope this past month is not indicative of what the next year is going to be.  Argh.

The IT Band Giveth ...

and the IT Band Taketh Away

My good friend Dave had a blog post with a similar title. I feel a bit bad mimicking him, but there are worse people to mimic (Dave's good friend Ryan, for example ... ha, ha) and he hasn't updated his blog in 18 years (approximately).

With that out of the way, I'm going to tell you about the race I ran on Sunday. I'll be brief:

It was a half marathon and I wanted to beat my time of 2:08:18. I was ready and confident. Might have gone out a bit too fast but got to mile 6 in 58 minutes and thought I had it in the bag. Somewhere before mile 7 my IT Band, which has bothered me in the past - as in when I trained for the marathon in'05 went from a barely noticeable tightness in my hips to a shooting pain in my right knee. I played with my stride (shorter, longer, feet in a bit, feet out a bit) for a few minutes and then stopped to stretch. I made it through mile 7 but it really hurt. So I stretched some more, that got me about one minute. So I mostly walked and ran when I could through mile 9. Then it started to drizzle. I kept walking with a bit of running here and there and then it started to pour down rain. I wanted nothing but to high tail it to the finish which I could see, but there was the slight issue of the Hudson River between us. I don't swim in the Hudson River so I kept on going getting colder and wetter and more bored and miserable with every step. I finally crossed the river and emerged from the God forsaken park I was in and there waiting for me like a chariot was the lite rail that I knew stopped at the finish - so with two miles to go I took public transportation to the finish. I was honorable and did not cross the finish line - just turned in my chip.

I was with coworkers so I tried to be all "no big deal, just hopped on the train, wasn't my day" but I was a bit sad and cranky. Until I took a nap at which point I realized that I was ready and would have beaten my 2:08 but for the IT Band. And you can't mess with the IT Band - this lessened my disappointment and I went on to enjoy the rest of my day. Of course when I woke up this morning as sore as if I ran the whole race and covered in mosquito bites, I was a bit miffed. Talk about adding insult to injury.

As for the issue alluded to in my last 3 posts - I'm back to being content to take a let's see what happens approach. And back to being afraid to think or talk about the situation.

The End.

And it all Becomes Clear

The last two posts?  About a boy.  But you knew that, right?

And tonight?  I changed the profile on my phone/blackberry so that text messages and emails have a different notifying tone.  Because otherwise, every time I got an email my heart stopped as I wondered if it was a text.  

This is the metaphorical equivalent of starting to lead and stopping the dance.  You find yourself standing there awkwardly wishing you were still dancing but glad you stopped before you stepped on his feet.  

And now?  I'm waiting for the next song to see if I'll try the dance again or retire to the bar.  

Either way, it bodes well for the race on Sunday - the boy and running aren't related in reality, but in my head its as if I've got something to prove.  Or at least I need something to justify heading to the bar.  And for now, my vote for sushi won, so I'm off to dinner.  

Happy weekend kids.

On Dancing as it Relates to Life

It’s not that I don’t like to dance. I do. Sort of. I’m not very good at it, but like most things involving coordination, if you watch those who are good at it and take a deep breath, you can make yourself improve. Maybe not dramatically, but at least enough to make it look like you sort of know what you are doing. Of course, when those around me are “dirty dancing,” which was often the case this summer, I’d just as soon belly up to the bar. I guess it’s the Catholic schooled girl in me, I like to leave room for the Holy Spirit, thank you very much. And so, I’m left with people thinking that I just don’t like to dance and thus I don’t get many opportunities to dance. And it’s all fine. You can find me at the bar.

Because of this, I forget how amazing it can be to dance with someone who knows how to dance. And who leaves room for the Holy Spirit, thank you very much. It’s hard for me, because I … no surprise here … tend to want to lead. Which defeats the purpose of dancing with someone who knows what they’re doing. I was fortunate enough in college to have a standby, good friends-only guy who would accompany me to dances when necessary. And he knew how to dance; but, to make this work, I’d have to focus HARD on not leading and before I knew it, we’d be dancing.

I recently had the opportunity to dance with someone who knew what they were doing, and even after a few drinks I had to focus HARD on relaxing and only doing what he was guiding me to do. Kind of like when you get a massage and they tell you to let you arm or leg go limp. It’s HARD. HARDER than you think it should be since you’re essentially doing nothing … But if you try hard enough, close your eyes if you have to, you can be led. And before you know it you’re dancing and its fun, right up until you think about it and step on his feet.

And so, that’s what I’m trying to do now. In life, not on the dance floor. To focus on not focusing and see where it takes me. Its hard, really hard. But fun. Sort of. Right up until I step on his feet. At which point, you can find me at the bar.

There's Something Happening Here

And its exciting.  I think.  I don't know for sure, because I try as hard as I possibly can not to think about it.  Its as if I'm afraid that the force of my thoughts will make change it.  So, given this state of paranoia, I certainly can't write about it here because WHO KNOWS what would happen then?

But fear not.  I plan on running a half marathon this Sunday, so we can talk about that soon;)

Later, kids.

Two Years Old

On August 29th, my blog was two years old.

So, happy belated birthday blog. Glad you surivived the terrible twos. I hope three is a good year for ya.

I'm Over It

I still find the events described in my last post extremely hurtful.  

And a bit immature in a way I could only explain if I went into the history.  And at this point its not just worth it.  

So whatever.  Someday he'll be sorry.  For now, I won't loose anymore sleep over it.

I bought a new shirt and I'm headed to the beach for the long weekend.  I might even kiss a boy.  Doubtful but possible.  I mean, I did sneak into a pool to swim tonight.  I'm apparently all about breaking the rules these days!

On Facebook and its Evils

or, With a Lump in My Throat and a Knot in My Stomach

I think it was the way I found out and the silence that followed that bothered me more than the news itself. And maybe there was a small part of me that thought we’d always wind up together - although, deep down I’m pretty sure I knew we wouldn’t. I acknowledge that the recent silence was probably my fault, coupled with his travel and the girl. But it wasn’t an unprecedented silence. It had happened before and one of us always reached out. This time it was me. On facebook of all things.

And when I wrote on his wall that we had to "get together soon and catch up" he didn’t respond. He just updated his status to ‘married’ and posted a picture of Them.

So, yeah. To summarize, he was my first crush, my first kiss, often my best friend, the only boy I’ve brought to my parent’s vacation home, someone who has both seen me cry and made me laugh until I cried. And he told me he was married by updating his FB status. I guess that means he doesn’t want to be friends anymore?

Even though we weren’t actively friends, I still considered him a friend … until yesterday. And I guess this explains the lump in my throat, the knot in my stomach and why I couldn't fall asleep last night. That and the world at large was warned to save all Announcements until September. I guess he doesn’t read the blog.

As an aside, I have to decide whether to spend this weekend at my parent's vacation home or at the beach and I'm not leaning one way or another. What do I do about that?

On Fishing and By Request

I've been quiet lately. Honestly, I've been in sort of a 'my friends are getting married and I'm still getting drunk' funk. And there is not much to say about that. Its not like I want to change where I am, I just wish everyone else would slow down and hang out with me here. I'm not sure why we're rushing to not live in sin.

But, Ryan complained about lack of blogging. And because I'm hypersensitive and like to please everyone and don't like to have anyone mad at me, I feel bad abandoning him and the other (four) readers of my blog. That's the kind of girl I am. I aim to please all, even anonymous blog readers and recently betrothed ex boyfriends. Ha!

So, I'm on vacation with my sister and my parents. Which is likely contributing to my current state of mind. Just so you know. And its also led me to start fishing. I never really saw the lure (get it, lure ... ha, ha) in fishing but I figured I'd give it a try. And on my sixth cast, I caught a striped bass which we brought home and ate!

I'm so glad I can be a hunter not a gatherer.

And the high of reeling in the fish ... better than the high at the finish line of any race I've ever done. And I'm hooked, so to speak. Even though I've yet to catch another. Its addicting because at any moment the fish could be swimming right by the lure, ready to latch on. Its in my blood I think. Grandpa Frank fished until the moment he died. Literally. They found him on the beach with a fish on the line next to him. I can really think of no better way to go. Not that I really like to think about 'going'.

So that's me. Fishing, swimming, relaxing on the beach and trying not to obsess about that which I can't control. Like I've ever succeeded at that. Having some wicked strong drink that made last night a little hazy and not wanting to go home. But not really wanting to stay either. I'm sort of in limbo I guess. But there are things on the horizon that I'm very much looking forward to. I'll write a funny less rambly post about those things soon.

For now I just wanted to say hi and let ya'll know I'm still here.

An open letter

To Whom It May Concern,

If you are recently betrothed or knocked up, please wait until September to tell me.  I have already received this month's quota of Announcements.

Thank you.  And have a nice day.

Nada

is what I've got to say.

Life is happening, but I'm not sure any of it warrants a post. Yet, I find myself not wanting to go a whole week without saying anything (and arguably it was Sara talking in my last post which would put me over a week) so I'm boring you with this. With nada.

For some reason I'm not inspired to tell you about how much fun last weekend was. The new bar. The guy that spilled not one but two TWO whole beers on me. The cute boys. The night spilling into the early morning. The fun dress.

I don't really want to talk about my workouts. They're there. Some happening, some getting cut short, some not happening at all. They've mostly been uneventful though. No epic solo climbs/rides or near naked gym exits. So nothing of interest to report.

One more non-holiday summer beach weekend, one week in my favorite vacation destination and then labor day is upon us. The summer is flying. And I'll be sad to see it go.

Perhaps next week, I'll be inspired to tell you more than nothing.

Happy weekend, kids.

Cameo Appearance

Love it!

On Boys

In the two+ years since I broke up with 1X, I've been pretty much on the dating wagon. There have been a few dates, a few fun nights, a few instances of intrigue, but for the most part, I've been happy to be alone. Or at least, haven't found anyone worth the effort of a relationship.

Until last weekend.

Monday came early and I started my week with crushes on two boys. One likely fun and one for serious. It was nice. And I spent the first three days of this week giddy and in SUCH A GOOD MOOD.

And then this morning, for no particular reason, other than that this next weekend is closer than the one that just passed and when interpretting cryptic signs I always assume the worse, I remembered why I was on the wagon in the first place.

Because coming down and the withdrawal sucks. You wake up despondant with a ball of anxiety in your stomach and it kind of makes you want to sleep for a long, long time.

On Shopping and Sleeping

Its been 11 days since the Big Race, and I've not much to report.

I REALLY want to go shopping, which I think I'm programmed to want to do after finishing a big thing. But the new job is not proximate to stores and I'm trying to be responsible. So, I bought the pictures from the Big Race (they were not stealable, and I liked them) and some makeup on line. But its not the same as going to a store.

Other than that, in the week after the race I felt fine but dind't work out at all. Even if I had wanted to it was a busy week of 5K spectating and some happy hours. Friday there was a wedding and then the beach, another happy hour and a ball game. And now, I find myself wanting to sleep ALL THE TIME. I'm more tired than I should be and I wonder if my body is having a delayed reaction to the race. Sometimes it takes me a few days to sort through sad or mad emotions after an event warranting those emotions (which is hard ... wanting to fight days after the mean thing, or cry days after the sad thing is awkward at best) and I wonder if my body is doing the same thing now. Deciding to recover 11 days late. Or if I'm sick. I'm hoping I'm just slow to tire.

I would like to run tonight and swim tomorrow and dive back into the workouts over the weekend because there are small(er) races with Big Goals on the horizon. A mid-September oly and a flat half mary a few weeks later.

So thats me. Just checking in really. And trying to stay awake.

Providence, Rhode Island Half Ironman Triathlon (Part II)

WITH PICTURES

T1 (Here I am coming out of the water and into T1, right before the strippers. You can kind of see that THERE WERE waves in the water.)

This can pretty much be summed up in three words: Strippers.Are.Awesome.

"Obviously" you're thinking (if you're a guy.) Which is fine. You should know that I had three strippers, I think they were a mother/daughter duo accompanied by a large man who I took to be their husband/father.

Yeah, I'm talking WETSUIT STRIPPERS!

Seriously though, they were awesome. There was a long sandy run up from the beach and then I saw them and just started giggling. It was SO COOL! I picked two nice looking ladies, they told me to just sit down and their male counter part yanked me up and I was off. There was another longish run to my bike where I dumped my bike stuff out of its designated bag, put my swim stuff in the same bag, put my bike stuff on and embarked on another long, long, long run to the mount line. Somehow this all took 5:24 seconds. Yeah, I don't know why either.

The Bike (This is the beginning of the bike when we were still passing really pretty things. Note tha thouse in the background.)

I had driven the bike course the day before so I knew it was doable. There is no real blow by blow way to describe a 56 mile bike ride. So I'll just hit the high points:

• The first time someone cheered for me by name I was so confused until I realized I had my name on my race belt - reminiscent of the time I went to the group ride with my name on my bike helmet. Yeah, I'm smooth.



• The first 10 miles were pretty and flew by in around 35 minutes. I kind of figured, and subsequently confirmed, that there was a tail wind but at the time I was just glad that I was moving at a good clip. After all of my hilly, hilly (and consequently slow) races this year it was nice to think that I might finish this ride with an average mph above 12.



• Nutrition was spot on but it required water from the aid stations. I had never done this before but I disposed of a bottle at the bottle drop without incident and as I approached the lady I decided should give me water I said "oooh, I might be bad at this ..." She laughed and ran with me for a minute to facilitate the grab.



• Next there were some hills, but they were rollers. Not like the Harriman mountain. I shifted well and got up them.



• As the ride went on it got harder. I was not surprised and subsequently learned that there was a head wind. Knowing this still makes me proud.



• I was really hoping there'd be someone in the penalty tent when I passed it. I'm not sure why. I guess its kind of like wanting to know who got detention and what they did. It was disappointingly empty but the volunteers looked tough, like they'd make sure you stayed your whole 4 minutes, not a second less. It made me smile.



• Some guy rode by with a banana threatening to fall out of his pocket. I almost said something but didn't. A few miles later, I saw his banana on the side of the road. Of course this also maked me giggle.



• The last 10 miles of the ride SUCKED. It was NOT the nicest part of town, at least judging by the number of potholes on the road. At this point, on the bike alone I had consumed 3+ bottles of sports drink and about 2 bottles of water - with each pothole there was a possibility of me wetting myself. Which for many triathletes is not a big deal, but in keeping with the "don't try new things on race day" rule, it wasn't on my agenda. I'm sure it would have been messy.



• These 10 miles also had a million turns and a lot of traffic due to intersections being closed so we could turn. At one point some lady threatened to beat the traffic by pulling into the shoulder we (well, I - there weren't that many people around me at this time, or so I thought) were riding on. I waved my hand at her in what I thought was a "no" gesture and started grumbling to myself "just stay where you are lady, why can't you people just stay where you are? you're all so annoying." I'm sure there were some bad words in there too. Funny thing is that I wasn't alone at this point. Some dude was right behind me afraid to pass because of the traffic situation. When he did pass, he said "it makes me really mad too." Awkward.



• The last 10 miles sucked but the last 5 miles were truly the worst. They were narrow, trafficy and just generally gross. They embodied all the reasons I currently tend to drive my bike to where I want to ride. But I guess all the times I have done 'junk miles' locally or in the city to get to where I want to go helped.



• Finally I made it to T2 and was THANKFULLY informed that the only porta potties were before you officially entered T2. I have never been so happy to go into a porta potty. I think I peed for 4 minutes. Heaven in a green plastic box.



• I apparently crossed into T2 after 3:43 for an average speed of 15.06 mph. Faster if you back out the 4 minutes of peeing and the fact that I maintain the course was a mile long.



• For many, many, many people this bike time would have been atrocious, but I was THRILLED to have finished in less than four hours. Absolutely thrilled.

T2 (This picture is well before T2 but has to be a fair bit into the race based on the bright glow that is emminating off of my sunburnned shoulders.)

One of the good things about rolling in late is you get your own personal escort to your place on the bike rack and she'll put sunscreen on your shoulders (although, at that point I think I was already pretty crispy ... I had put sunscreen on that morning but that was a wetsuit and salt water and hours of sweating on the bike ago).

Again I took stuff out of the bag and put new stuff in it and took stuff off and put stuff on and was out of there after 3:09. Not bad.

The Run (This pictures is as I'm finishing up the first loop. Still looking strong.)

The run was a two loop out and back. As I was starting a lot of the speedy people were still finishing so the crowd support was awesome. Right up there with 2nd Avenue in the NYC Marathon. Plus they announced my name and that I was heading out on the run and I learned in this race that I really, really like hearing my name. It makes me smile. The run starts downhill and I felt pretty good. I admit that while dodging potholes at the end of the bike and trying not to pee my pants I was also worried about the run. 13 miles is doable under normal circumstances but we were now in uncharted territory for me. Given my doubts, I was pleased at how things felt.

And then I turned the corner.

Ladies and gentlemen, the first hill we come to on our tour of Providence was used as a luge when the x games were held here. A luge. And while you eventually have to run down it, for now you're task is to get up it and know that you'll have to do it again. When I saw this hill I laughed and decided the only smart thing to do was to walk up it. This proved to be the right decision since the only people running were either on their second loop and obviously much, much faster than me or on their first loop and running at the same pace I was walking.

The first mile with the silly hill took 11:51 but after that I ticked off the miles in the first loop in 10:13, 11:03, 11:00, 11:01, 22:34 (for two miles). At least I was being generally consistent and while not smoking and certainly not smoking if this had been a stand alone half marathon, I was pleased. I remember thinking around mile 3 (I think it was mile 3 - wherever 5 hours fell) that I had been out there longer than the marathon and was truly for real in uncharted territory and all things considered felt pretty good.

After 6.5 miles you run back up hill to the capital where, if you're not lucky enough to be on your second loop, you turn and head out for another loop. On the way up I slowed for a bit (admittedly to look strong for the spectators including C who should have been out there by now) and some guy pulls up beside me and says (I kid you not), "Hey, Sugar. I've been following you for 4 miles, don't let me beat you now." When I told him I had one more loop to go he LAUGHED and said "that sucks."

I saw C and waved and felt good. I was as close to certain that I would finish as I could be. I turned and headed back out. Mile 8 was the big hill again and I walked again, finishing that mile in 12:51 and realizing that if I ran the next 5 miles in 11 minutes each I'd finish in exactly 7 hours (this never would have worked because I forgot about the .1) and that would have been awesome. This was a great plan and a great goal for about 3 minutes at which point everything fell apart.

And by everything, I mean, really nothing at all. I was rather nauseous and switched to water only for the last 5 miles but I don't think I hit the wall or bonked. I wasn't lacking energy per se, I was just tired, done, sore, wet, salty, nasty, blistered, bleeding (from the blister) and just done. And I had to pee and knew that I couldn't run 5 11 minute miles with that full bladder feeling. So I decided I'd go to the next porta potty, use it and reevaluate. And by the time that was all done, I knew there was no way I was busting out 5 11 minute miles.

And this is when I pretty much decided I needed to take my time and focus on finishing and not worry about an arbitrary 7 hour goal. So, for the next 5 miles I made little not at all arbitrary goals. Goals like "run to the police man and you can walk to the tree" or "run to the hill and you can walk up it." It worked in that it got me to the end with the last 5.1 miles clocking in at: 12:04, 13:10, 12:37, 14:09, 14:59.

The last two miles? Yeah, I might have hit the wall then. I honestly don't really remember them other than worrying I'd fall going down the big hill and trying to rest up to look strong going into the finish. I think I accomplished both. I finished up the run in 2:37 and my day ended 7 hours and 11 minutes after it started.

After

I found C and got some cheeseless pizza and all I wanted was to (1) sit and (2) eat something that wasn't 100% sugary. We sat around for a bit, I'm sure I was saying random things and she updated me on the car situation and I started feeling kind of pukey and like I couldn't keep my eyes open so I went to collect my stuff and headed back to the hotel where I showered and then we hit the road probably 90 minutes after I finished we were on the road and after much traffic I was home, ate a ton of sushi and passed out.

Thoughts

From the moment I finished and at many points along the way I was pleased. I had finished. My middle of the road goal was close to 7 hours and I was close to 7 hours. On the way home I got an email from Liz (who in the hecticness of the weekend I never got to meet ... which was sad but pretty much unavoidable, but I'm going to crash her Ragbrai party next year so I'm not worried) in which she said this half ironman (to be clear, the HALF IRONMAN I HAD JUST FINISHED) was one of the hardest she had ever done. It was hard but I had no point of reference so reading this was awesome.

Now

This week I've been a bit sore and very tired but not sore like after a hard running race. At first I thought this meant I hadn't worked hard enough but after consulting the expert I learned that this is sort of how you're supposed to feel after long slower efforts - makes sense I guess. So I'm fine. Proud. Content. Happy to take the week off entirely (I haven't even logged onto Training Peaks). Thinking about goals for the fall/future. Monday I was tired and cranky but other than that ... the post race uneasiness hasn't even been that bad - mostly because I had plans last night and there is a John & Kate + 8 Marathon on tonight! The next few days will be busy as well.

This is really long and while I feel like I could go on forever, its time for bed again!

Providence, Rhode Island Half IronMan (Part I)

Or, how I got my hat. If you look at this photo in a mirror, you'll see that is says "Finisher 2008."

So now we know how this story ends.

If you want to know more you can keep reading. I'm not usually a two post race report girl, but I just swam/biked/ran for 70.3 miles. I have a lot to say and I'm tired. Give me a break;)

Two Days Out

Yes, set up for this was a two day affair. Growing up friend, C, had graciously agreed to escort me on this adventure and we started the morning with a yummy local breakfast. We then headed out, sat in traffic and landed at the convention center where I registered seamlessly and bought some salt tabs*, a sports bra to match my awesome racing top and a race tee-shirt (which I was careful to ensure did not say 'finisher'). We checked into our better than the Extended Stay America accommodations, headed out for a quick dinner and were in bed early.

One Day Out

Saturday was the day that the logistics of a point to point race became apparent. I headed out early for the race meeting which reminded me of a grad school class ... lots of questions, many of them inane. After breakfast we headed to T1 to check in the bikes. More traffic. But we got there and I rode around the parking lot a bit to make sure everything was working. Also ran around the parking lot a bit to make sure everything was working. Not the full prescribed pre-race brick but more than enough for me and both the bike and the legs appeared to be in working order. Checked in the bike (got the tires professionally pumped and decided that was more then sufficient than self-pumping on race morning) and checked out the water (looked calm).

Drove the race course back to town and it took FOREVER but looked manageable. I've had some super hilly early races and was not intimidated by any of the hills - the distance maybe, but not any one hill. Back in town we ditched the car with the valet (the VALET) and went to T2 to check in bike gear. Another early dinner and I was home by 7. Decided to shower and was in my pjs contemplating renting a movie when the phone rang and ...

... someone had broken into my car. Yes, the car I had just valet parked. The situation was actually handled very well and it appears that it will all work out ok, BUT, not what I needed to deal with. And thank goodness C was with me. She spent most of race morning getting us a rental car etc. A true lifesaver.

After all that I went to bed for real around 10.

The Big Day

Pre-Race

3 am came early. 3 am is early. But I felt remarkably good. I ate my oatmeal and got ready largely in the bathroom (I had set everything up in there so as not to disturb C) and was out the door in time to get on the bus that would take us to the start.

The line for the bus was long, but moved pretty quickly and at that point, there wasn't much other choice. I was alone and mostly just listened to conversations and observed a few things:

1. Before waiting in line for the bus, you should make sure to put on the t-shirt from the hardest race you've ever done. Seriously, I saw more Boston and IM tee-shirts waiting in line for that bus than ever before in my life. I was wearing a plain tee, thankfully because I might have been openly mocked for my measly olympic distance shirts.

2. If you're not going to abide by rule (1) getting on the bus in ONLY YOUR BATHING SUIT AND FLIP FLOPS is apparently an acceptable alternative (if you're a girl, I thankfully saw no guys doing this). Enough said.

3. Pretty much everyone is talking about whether or not they have pooped. Its ok. Don't be shy.

4. If you find yourself having to take a bus solo to your longest race ever YOU WILL FIND IT INTIMIDATING. Keep telling yourself 'you belong'. It may or not be true and you may or may not believe it, but its the only thing that might, maybe help. It will help more if you say/think this while focusing on the least athletic person you can find (particularly if this person is wearing ... shutter ... street clothes).

The bus safely shuttled us to transition where there wasn't all that much to do since my bike was already there and it was a 'clean' transition - which meant that unless you were physically in transition all of your belongings needed to be on your bike or in a designated bag. I prepared my nutrition, sun-screened up, peed twice and stood around telling myself I belonged. The only familiar face I saw was Liz's husband - I felt kind of like giving him a big hug because I was a bit lonely and full of nervous chatter. But then I realized that while I recognized him (sort of from his blog and from the fact that he already had his race belt on) he has NO IDEA who I am and is super fast and might not want to be seen talking to (much less being hugged by) some random girl with a likely maladjusted road bike and a bright floral racing top. That and I remembered I don't like hugging random people (except, apparently, when I am desperately lonely pre-race).

Eventually I wandered down to the beach and realized that yesterday's calm water had developed waves. Not that big and given the protected nature of the cove they couldn't be that strong, but they would be a small factor. After a quick warm up mostly to make sure that the waves weren't that strong (they were stronger than I thought, but totally not scary) I wandered over to the start (my pre-race consisted of a lot of wandering while trying not to look like I was wandering) and picked out Liz! She really is the cutest and when the gun for her wave went off she danced right into that water and started swimming RIGHT AWAY with this beautifully aggressive swim stroke (I loved watching what I could of the olympic swimming trials because their technique to me is like ballet) and for at least her first few strokes Liz looked awesome. And then she totally got hit by a wave and I got nervous and wandered off (but she ultimately did an awesome job and everyone got hit by that wave, its just that she's little and I have that protective life-guarding instinct ...).

The F 30-35 group was corralled. We watched some guy get 10 feet into the water, freak out by a wave and call it a day. It was sad and odd all at the same time. And then faster than I would have thought, we were off.

The Swim

I dilly-dallied a bit getting into the water because I'd rather swim over/around than be swum over. I should have gotten right in there. But once I did get in there it wasn't that bad. 8 yellow buoys, turn at the orange, turn at the orange, 8 yellow buoys home. I told myself that by the 2nd buoy the water would be calm. That was a lie. But it wasn't rough. It was just up and down, up and down. Made me regret a bit the combos I ate that morning (yeah, don't ask - combos and oatmeal, what can I say?). But I was at all times making progress forward (not stopping to look around and/or freak out) and because the buoys were to the left and I breath left I did not have any issues swimming off course like in previous tris. On the way there I swam around a few people, got clobbered once when the guys in the wave behind us caught us (and then I drafted off of who I thought was the clobberer for what seemed like a bit but was probably 10 seconds and it rocked - might be worth my fear of too much swim contact to find some fast feet to hold onto) and got a face full of seaweed once (terrifying) and at the first buoy almost headed out to sea due to my failure to site (I think this is how I get so off course in multi-turn swims, I need to make sure I have actually TURNED before swimming off). On the way back the waves pushed us and 42 minutes and 45 second later I was done. And it was fine. I feel a bit bad saying that because a bunch of people have mentioned that it was hard ... and sure, it wasn't easy, but it also wasn't 54 degrees and it could have been a lot rougher. A lot. Like my practice swim with the rip tide. I'm just saying. I'm not fast, but I was impressed by my fitness (I could have swam forever) which maybe means I should just go faster and then I would think it was harder, but for now, I keep coming back to "it wasn't that bad."

*Liz introduced me to the idea of salt tabs a few days before the race. Which was fine, I like salt and I could put the tab on my tongue and let it dissolve. Ha! Not sure why I thought you would just let them dissolve on your tongue ... you have to swallow these BIG pills. While on your bike. If you've ever seen me take, say, an advil, you know that it is a process that involves a lot of water and the pill placed carefully in just the right place. This was going to be the end of my race - choking and dying on the bike. But then I was told I could dissolve them in my water bottle and all was well again.

Magic Number 588

And all checked in.  Already scoped out the T2 bike rack ... I think its a good number.  Heading to bed because tomorrow will be busy ... but, the weather forecast is improving.

Can't believe its almost go time!

My List

Tomorrow, I head out for the Big Race. As we head North, we'll stop at Target for some essentials:

• eye drops (I have dry eyes)
• sunscreen
• water
• pretzels (salt!)
• combos (more salt!)
• oatmeal
• poptarts (just in case ... they are my crack)
• hair clips

Kind of random.

I'm feeling good, relaxed, ready to prove this is doable. My biggest worry is how I'll deal with being done. After the marathon I got really sad - I don't transition well (from anything: the beach to home, finals to vacation, one work project to another) so I'm going to need a new focus. Stat. Suggestions welcome.

And yes, only I would be worried about what to do next before I even started the current item on the list.

Full report to come when I get back!

I'm not sure if ...

I'm stressed about the Big Race (I don't feel stressed, but I could be),

off kilter because of last night's drinks gone awry, or

just depressed about having to go back to work after 5 days off; but, 

I'm one big ball of cranky today.

The boys at work better tread carefully!

WWYD?

That's: what would you do?

If the power went off at work and you got sent home early?  I took a nap and now I think I'm going to swim and get a mani/pedi.

Maybe some laundry.

Kind of like a snow day in the summer!

The Weather Is Forecasted!

You know the race is close when you can start compulsively checking the weather.

Looks like we're really doing this kids. And, looks like it'll be 85 and sunny.  Could be worse for sure, so I'll take it ... although I bet it'll change a bunch between now and then ... I'll keep you posted;)

Going Long

Last week I had my last long swim, run and bike before the Big Race.

My swim was documented in my pop tart post and I'd rather not revisit the experience.

My run was just shy of two hours and happened before work!  Before work!  And I was relatively on time for work.  Nothing I could say would be more impressive than the fact that my just shy of two hour run happened before work ... so, I won't.

That, then, leaves us with the bike.  Four hours with a 30 minute run off.  I've been lucky enough to do most of my long rides at the beach this summer.  The beach with fewer cars and intersections and hills.  But the Last Long Ride was happening locally and I had worked myself into a state about it.  I didn't want to get hit by a car (what can I say?  I don't raise the bar too high) or get lost or have to get on and off of my bike a million times but I also didn't want to go to the local park and ride its 8 mile stretch for 4 hours.

So I decided to head to Harriman State Park and ride the course from my May Oly.  You know, the one with the big hill that I had to travel to pre-race to make sure I could get up?  Yeah, that one.  It seemed like a good plan.  A challenging plan, but good nonetheless.  Each 14 mile loop of the course has 1500 feet of elevation gain and I figured I could get in a minimum of 3 loops ... which meant a lot of climbing, but if I could do that I could do the Big Race.  

This all seemed like a good idea, until the alarm went off at 6 am the day of the planned ride and I was again riddled with anxiety  - even in the relatively controlled environs of Harriman I was still planning to drive one hour to ride for 4 hours by myself.  And really, anything could happen - I thought about tagging along with Sara on her 4 hour ride (and by tagging along,  I mean, asking her and her friends to wait for me periodically and then hopping I wouldn't crash into them while trying to clip in and out) but I need this ride to be me and my nutrition plan and little to no stops.

So I decided to be a big girl and get on with me day.  I also decided to see what it was like to ride for four hours in tri shorts.  PLEASE, do not try this at home.  There really is no need to put yourself through this unique and seemingly innocent form of torture other than on race day.  And really, then, only if you don't have a place to put on biking shorts.  Seriously.

Anyway, I was in the car by 7 and on the bike by just past 8 and I rode that loop two times without stopping, up that hill two times and sticking to my nutrition plan the whole time.  I stopped once to pee and fill up water bottles and then I was back for 1.5 more loops.  And I felt strong the whole time (except when, in the middle of the big hill some lady pulled up to me - in her car - to ask directions and got annoyed when I said I (a) didn't know and (b) couldn't talk).  I passed a wide array of road kill (snake, deer - sad, other unidentifiable animals) and the same guy fishing three times (I wonder if he caught anything).  The other bikers were very friendly - offering a hello or a nod and a smile, which gave me some comfort that if I fell over still attached to my bike they'd help me up without killing me and throwing me into the lake all still attached to my bike;)

After 50 miles and over 4500 feet of elevation gain I threw the bike in the car and ran for 30 minutes during which time I realized I was covered in bugs and had consumed over 2000 thousand calories that day ... none of which I really had to chew.  And then I got back into the car, the sky opened up and I managed to drive home in the pouring rain without falling asleep (always a bonus).  Although AS SOON AS I was out of the shower I passed out.

So ...?  It was a long hard day, but I did it.  Alone.  And it wasn't that bad.  So ... while I'm still terrified for the Big Race I no longer think that it will kill me.  I'm ready.  Ready to do it and ready kind of to be done and stay up late on the weekends without worry - exciting, I know.

At the Altar of Liz

Six of us, in sundresses, stood on the Manhattan street corner post baby shower/tea.  Passersbys, if asked to guess what we were discussing, would have chosen baby stuff, boys, shopping or maybe evening plans.  They would have been wrong.  We were discussing triathlon in general and  Liz, the coach of three of us, specifically.  Eavesdroppers, if asked to guess what we were discussing, likely would have chosen  some new fangled  religion.  They wouldn't be quite right - not a religion, just a triathlon coach.  But, once you become accustomed to having thoughtful workouts planned for you, you do become quite devout.  And if coaching by Liz were a religion, I think I'd play the role of  Moses - having brought her to the group on the corner - except if triathlon Nirvana were hiding on top of a mountain I don't think I'd be the one chosen to find it.  I climb in constant fear of toppling over because I am THAT slow and I descend gripping the breaks in terror.  So, I need to think of a Divine messenger that finds the hidden message other than on the top of a mountain and analogize myself to him or her.  But I think you get my point. 

The Girl Who Liked Pop Tarts

Once upon a time, in a far away land known as New Jersey, there was a girl who liked to do triathlons. She wasn't very good at them but she persevered because they were fun, and they attracted cute boys and they made her arms look pretty.

But sometimes, the triathlons made her hungry. Very hungry. And one day in a state of extreme hungriness, she ate a brown sugar pop tart. It was good.

And the next day, when she was hungry, she wanted another one. So she had another one. And before long she came to crave a pop tart late every afternoon. So she would take $1 and her building id down to the convenience store and indulge. Sometimes they had no brown sugar so she would have strawberry, which wasn't as good, but she needed something to satisfy the craving. She couldn't resist, she was addicted.

But she tried to control her addiction - sometimes she thought about buying a box (or two) at the local food store but she always resisted for fear that she'd come to eat more than one package of pop tarts a day. She thought she was in control of her addiction, but the first time she craved a pop tart on the weekend she worried that her life was spiraling out of control.

So that Monday, she decided to go cold turkey. Instead of her late afternoon pop tart she had gold fish from the vending machine (a dubious choice, but at least not a pop tart).

When, on her first pop tartless day the girl left the office to head to the pool, her tummy was rumbling. And as she swam her laps the rumbling got worse and her head got fuzzy. Withdrawal is rough, so she hopped out a few hundred yards early to head home for some dinner.

In a light-headed daze, the girl showered quickly and threw her work suit back on. She was heading out of the locker room when she got a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Something wasn't right. Upon further review, it seemed that the girl had put on her bra and blazer but NO SHIRT. Horrified, and in the nick of time, she retreated back to her locker and found the missing shirt.

A close call for sure.

The girl had learned her lesson and the very next morning she went to the local food store and stocked up on brown sugar pop tarts. Addiction is a powerful thing not to be messed with 3 weeks before the big race unless you want to risk citations for indecent exposure.

The end.

*Good* News

Athlete guides for the Big Race came out today. You'll all be happy to know that on the run, crawling is a legal form of forward movement.

Awesome.

Other facts of note: public nudity is *strictly* prohibited, give someone the special ticket to retrieve your bike from T2 *just*in*case* you can't do it, pump your tires race morning in T1 but your pump *will*not* be transported to T2 (which makes me wonder: do that many people have friends/family that will get up to watch a mass of colored heads swim at 6am?).

I'm nervous. But ready to get this done. I just wish that accuweather looked that far ahead, because you know that it is almost time when someone out there is predicting the weather.

Pat Griskus Triathlon

aka, a lesson in confidence

On many levels.

This was a Saturday race that required an overnight stay and thus required me to get from work to CT with a stop at the bike store for gels using a route that was not entirely map quest endorsed (I wanted to take a less direct route to avoid city traffic).  Back in the day when I lived here and drove to and form school and had friends that were scattered far and wide I knew my way to everywhere I needed to go.  I never got loss or felt like I didn't know where I was.  Now that I apparently live, work and summer in the garden state I find myself driving more than I have in years and in parts of the state different than the ones I grew up in.  I always figure it out and I've never (NEVER) had to ask for directions but there have been some where-on-earth-am-I? moments.  Not to mention that I'm not the most aggressive driver.

Anyway, I made it to the race site in time for an evening check in with no issues and then had a nice solo dinner at the bar while chatting with some people who were also doing the race and just felt content.  I obviously would have been happy to have someone there with me but I was totally fine making small talk over a beer and a turkey club.  It was something different and made me feel grown up.  Sort of.

Race morning was uneventful (despite eating my oatmeal with a straw) - the race site was super close to the hotel which was nice.  We got there in plenty of time to set up transition and I wandered down to the beach to check out the swim course.  It was pretty.  The lifeguards were hanging out on the beach being briefed on how to guard us.  It reminded me of my lifeguarding summer and the quiet cool of the beach calmed me.

And then everyone else made their way to the beach and it was filled with adrenaline, neither quiet nor cool.

I put on my wetsuit and got into the water for a 5-10 minute warm up.  And before I knew it, Sara's dad took a pre-race photo and we were off.

The Swim -swimming with geese-es

What a difference 20 degrees makes.  Not being terrified by the cold  was nice.  I got in a bit behind the fray and just swam and swam.  And swam right to the first buoy.  And then I kept swimming to the second buoy which was a bit harder to see ... I've never been in a triathlon where there aren't smaller little yellow buoys in between the big orange ones that tell you where to turn, and while I have really good vision, goggles cloud and sun glares and its hard to know where to go.  Pre-race I identified a house on the horizon that helped guide me to buoy 2 but once I rounded that buoy I had no idea where I was.  So I swam, and swam and swam and realized I was pretty far off course.  So I swam and swam some more trying to right myself and found myself even more off course.  I kept swimming and a kayaker noted that I was doing well but sort of in no mans land.  Thanks, dude.  I kept swimming and made a WIDE turn at buoy 3 and then tried to take the most direct route to shore.  At one point I looked up to sight and realized that I did have a good line to the finish but then nearly jumped out of my wetsuit because there was a large object just to my right ... which I quickly realized was a family of geese.  And the geese aren't exactly hanging out in the midst of the pack of swimmers so I really was no where near everyone else.

At any rate, I focused on strong pulls and on kicking (I tend not to kick at all in the wetsuit but it obviously helps you go forward) and swam at race pace confident that I could go the distance and didn't have to go super slow just to make it through.  I finished in 40:xx minutes which I was pleased with considering the detour. 

I suspect I swam the Big Race distance, and if I didn't I was close and am not worried about the July 13th swim (as long as the waves cooperate, which I obviously can't control).

T1 - I hardly even remember this.  I was breathing hard from the run off the beach, got my stuff on and got out.  Post swim is the only time I'm not last in a triathlon and I try to make it last!

The Bike - "Take it as it comes and be thankful when its done."

My problem with the bike is that I either go All Out or Real Slow.  When riding outside I go All Out more often than not, so its hard to differentiate between racing and riding.  In addition, there were some hills with bizarre grades on this course and they tended to go straight up so you knew that while the bizarre grade might end quickly the overall up hill portion would go on potentially forever.

Not really knowing the course, I told my self that my only option was to "Take it as it comes and be thankful when its done."

I did take it (into a really low gear up all the hills) and, just shy of 2 hours later, I was thankful when it was done. And it left me confident that I'll be able to finish the Bike Race bike in 4ish hours (maybe?) - I'm hoping the hills are better.

T2 -  Can I get your autograph?

When I rolled in to T2 some triathlete was standing there cheering for everyone to transition well. At first I just thought she was enjoying some sports drink before she headed onto the run but then I started to suspect she had FINISHED THE RUN.  So, on my way out, I stopped to talk to her and confirmed my theory and congratulated her on coming in first.  Probably not the best use of my time!

The Run - Apparently what you don't know can't kill you.

I never really grasped that this was a 2 'loop' out and back UP A MOUNTAIN.  Had I known this I might have stayed in bed.  I made it though.  Down and up.  And then down and up again.  My run time of just over an hour makes me really, really want to Race a stand alone 10K.  And I think I'll be able to run most of the Big Race run at a decent (for me) pace.

Finished the run in 1:02ish for a total time of 3:42:22, which I'll take (not that there are a whole bunch of other options at this juncture).

So, the dress rehearsal for the Big Race is done - final push and then its time to head to RI.  Which, despite my new confidence, is still terrifying!

Today was awesome!

And there will be a race report, but first a few questions:

1.  To the three guys that got to packet pick up at the same time as me:  I get that you weren't keen on leaving your bikes unattended on the bike rack while you one friend figured out the issue with his registration.  But, I don't understand why when the two of you went back to the car to wait you tried on your bathing caps?  Why?  WHY?

2.  To the guy walking around the lobby of the hotel in bike shorts and a tee-shirt:  Did you not bring real pants?  Why?  What part of you thinks that this is socially acceptable??

3.  To the guy or three that swam the swim in a speedo:  Do you not watch the olympics?  This might have been cool when you were 3 but times have changed and people wear bike short looking speedos.  Please do us all a favor and give this style a try.  Please!

Finally, RIP in Tim.   I'll miss Mr. Russert.

"This course is a tough one!"

Said by my coach in response to my statement that I'd be happy just to have a decent bike this weekend because if it took me 4 hours to bike 24 miles, the outlook for finishing the Big Race in one day was not good.

And, at first blush it seemed not the response I was looking for.  The race was a late add when I got shut out of the (much more convenient) race that I wanted to do and I honestly never looked at the elevation profile until Liz's comment.  Coming off of Harriman it doesn't look that bad, but if Liz says its tough, I believe it.

Anyway, after a pre-dinner nap last night I started thinking about the race this weekend.  Prior to my nap (and well, after my nap too) I was over tired, not feeling great and generally cranky.  This race is sort of a huge PIA for me to get to, I have to find some of my favorite gels between now and then and I was generally stressed so I napped and then started thinking ... I'm looking forward to the swim, it won't be super cold, its in a lake (and not a crazy big midwest lake) so it shouldn't be too rough and I like to swim.  I'm looking forward to a strong swim.  The run is two loops so the second time around you know what's coming - hopefully this will help me power through and finish strong.  The only real issue for me is getting from the swim to the run ... biking with its fancy shoes, gears, breaks & balance issues STRESSES ME OUT!

I know I'll finish, I mean, I got up the big hill at Harriman and I'll get up the CT hills as well and then I'll cover the distance in the Big Race, but its the freakin bike that takes me from slightly above average to much below.  And it just seems that riding a bike should be easy. And I guess that's when I realized that riding a bike is theoretically easy, until you decide to do really hard things on the bike.  Like ride up a mountain, or ride 56 miles after swimming 1.2 miles and before running 13.1 miles.  These things are really hard.  But I do them.  Maybe not super well, but well enough to finish (err, at least so far, knock on wood) and in the grand scheme of things - if you add up the freaky fast people that are finishing before me AND the lazy couch potatoes I AM SO COMING OUT ABOVE AVERAGE and by not devoting a million hours a week to becoming freaky fast I'm doing what works for me, what I need to do to have So.Much.Fun!  

So yeah, above average and So.Much.Fun is cake and icing too.  It just took someone pointing out that its REALLY HARD for me to realize.  Stubborn, I am (and that is the second time I spoke Yoda today.  odd.).  

Where I've Been

Hmmm, where to start.

Memorial Day I was at the beach, but I think you knew that. I deemed it acceptably fun, maybe not my first choice, but since I have to work and don't have a private jet, most likely the best I'm gonna get.

The next weekend was my 10 year college reunion. I've never done drugs or had a flash back, but if I had, I think that the experience would have been similar to my reunion weekend. Chicago has always been one of my favorite places, a couple of times I've even considered moving there, but the timing has never been right and in the end I prefer it to be the place where I go to see some of my favorite people in the world. The problem is that they've now mostly moved out to the suburbs and to a certain extent I knew this trip was going to probably be one of the last and maybe for that reason it seemed that where ever I went the whole weekend I was remembering a special moment that will likely never been repeated ... the nights in Chicago friends apartment (that she moved out of while I was in town), the places I went with Ryan - the mall type place on Michigan Ave. where I met his brother and sister (I think I was more nervous about them than his parents) the day I was on the plane that was subject to a bomb threat, the awesome downtown apartment where I went to a party with a then close friend that I no longer talk to, a lakefront run or two to clear my mind from the emotions that have lately accompanied trips to Chi-town. Even back at school, walking through the bar without the crowds of a football weekend and remembering the first night I kissed the special boy and how I woke up with gum in my hair and despite the gum and the hangover knew that I had met someone who would always hold a very special place in my heart (obviously at the time I had hoped it would be a very special place in my life, but that didn't work out as planned), walking through the quad where on a warm dark night our senior year a good friend made a startling confession, eating the same bbq food that we had at freshman orientation but realizing that as alums we're allowed to have fruit AND BEER!

I came back from school, worked a million hours and was back at the beach this weekend. And all I have to say about that, is if you're almost 30 and you decide to not sleep in the room that you are sharing with 2 of your friends, accept the consequences, whatever they may be. Do not sneak into the room at 8 am and ruffle the bed to make it look like you slept there. I mean really.

This weekend I have a triathlon on Saturday. Not sure how I feel about that, I know it'll be fine, I've done the distance before blah, blah but I feel like the past 2 weeks I've really only gotten my long workouts in (better than nothing I suppose). This isn't entirely true, I've gotten a bunch of weekday workouts in but, when you're working in excess of 12 hours a day it just gets hard to get them ALL done. And this scares me for the Big Race, even though it probably shouldn't. I mean, a few missed workouts won't cancel out months of training, but it still make me nervous. Anyway, as long as I can catch up on my sleep and this strange tickle in the back of my throat doesn't turn into a full fledged cold, I think it'll be fun. More on that later.

Good day.

Quick Update

The beach was fun.  I shan't go into details at the moment, but I ate, I drank too much, I went on two long bike rides and managed not to get lost but do have finger print marks from trying to apply sunscreen on my own back.  I kissed no boys and I didn't swim.  Swimming and kissing were assumed to be part of the beach scenario but, alas, the water was too cold and I needed to get my bearings and boundaries before breaking the spell.

For triathlon, this is a build week.  Or something.  I didn't get home until 12:30 tonight and the pool was obviously closed.  We'll see.  Even though I'm a horrific biker, I have some confidence that I will get the race done ... its hard to balance triathlon and the beach and work and the beach and the potential kissing;) but as long as I stay focused on staying healthy and having fun and not drowning and finishing the race and having fun it'll be fine.

Thursday, which is only two sleeps away (not something I would normally say but its technically Wednesday even though I haven't gone to bed on Tuesday yet), I head to Chicago where I will hopefully have dinner or at least a drink with my good friend Dave (who is getting no more links on this blog.  for now.) and his gf/better-half/bff/roommate who I've never met but heard is lovely and then I might crash a bachelorette party to see some of my other friends and/or just hang out with my chicago friend and her awesome hubby.

Friday I'll run by the lake, get a pedicure and then HEAD TO MY TEN YEAR COLLEGE REUNION.  I'm excited and nervous and hope it is fun almost as much as I hope that I get through the mountain of crap that I have to get through between now and then!

Oooh, I also got a new camera with which I will hopefully post some pics soon.

Ok.  Bye.

Reason No. 846 Why Everyone Should Have a Coach

aka, Harriman More-or-Less Olympic Distance Race Report

I was nervously anticipating this race because it was the first race that I had both planned to do (well, I planned to do Bassman, but only a few days ahead, this race had been on the calendar for awhile) and I had trained for it (unlike last year when most of my races were hope for the best type affairs). The anticipation was nervous because the water was expected to be VERY COLD and the bike was VERY HILLY (I rode the course last weekend, so knew this to be true - the statement that there would by 2800 feet of elevation gain over the 28 mile course was not a lie). We were in the first wave and were not slated to go off until 10:30 ... the ability to sleep in, and sleep in at home, was nice. Perhaps nice enough to make me forget the cold water and the insane course if I'm still in triathlon mode come next season. We'll see.

There were some logistical issues race morning but we arrived to the site with plenty of time to spare and were greeted by some pretty strong winds and not very warm temperatures. We registered and read, in awe, that the water was FIFTY-FOUR DEGREES (that's Fahrenheit, and that's cold!). Wetsuited up, I made my way into the lake with very little complaining and swam around for a bit. My face, hands and feet were quickly numb ... but it wasn't that bad.

The 'warm-up' should have served to 'cool us down' so that we were used to functioning in the cold water. Unfortunately, warm up/cool down ended and we were left to stand around in the sun, in our wetsuits and get warm before the swim started from the beach ... the beach start was a first for me but the gun went off and we were into the water ...

The Swim - belatedly victorious

And it was quite the shock to the system. Almost immediately people succumbed to (double armed?) backstroke and breast stroke. I made it around the first buoy and took a 30 second breather at a kayak ... and it was here the I learned reason No. 846 why its good to have a coach: when its cold and you're lips are blue and you're hanging out with the kayaker and it would be much easier to swim in and call it a day alot of things go through your head. For me, I knew that if I pulled out of this swim, I would never do another triathlon. I can't explain why, I just know me, and know that it'd be over. That would have a lot of ramifications - I'd probably loose touch with my triathlon friends, I'd have to figure out a new way to stay in shape, I'd have to find a thing to fill up my time and I'd have to tell people why I wasn't training and racing. The last two ramifications were the hardest to swallow in my 30 seconds with the kayaker. I took up triathlon to fill a void, and without it, that void would be back. I often joke about becoming a yogi, but honestly, I don't know that I could do yoga for 7-14 hours a week. I'd also have to tell my friends (all of whom would understand - I think my triathlon friends would get that this is such a commitment and sometimes its hard and understand with maybe a small bit of jealousy and a fair bit of smugness at being able to solider on and my 'other' friends would think that FINALLY I had seen the light and decided to adopt a more normal lifestyle), my family (who would, for the most part, think that I'd finally now have time to find a husband), my co-workers (who would wonder what on earth they were going to talk to me about now, and would probably think it confirmed that girls are weak and they shouldn't have hired one) and my coach. And this was the hardest. What would I say to Liz? Would she keep 'coaching' me if I refused to race? If not, would I be firing her? She's awesome, so I wouldn't want to do that. And even if it all worked out, I figured she'd think I was a dork for being a quitter and it would sort of vaguely remind me of being the girl growing up in the sporty town and being *encouraged* to play sports with balls and eye hand coordination and being AWFUL at them, always making the last out and feeling like such an outcast. And I don't want to be an outcast - I'm happy being the slow one in the group but I want to be in the group, and the coach more than the triathlon friends somehow makes me feel like part of the group. So, while a summer of margarita drinking at the beach and casual bike rides sounded fun, I assumed it was the hypothermia setting in and decided there was only one way out of the water and into the warm parking lot and that was around the next 2 buoys and so I thanked the kayaker and went on my way*. I swam for the next 22 or so minutes stopping only to realize again and again how horribly off course I was. I swam a circle around the triangle of buoys and finally, finally got out of the water. And even though it took 30:xx minutes until I crossed into transition (only 28 minutes of swimming though, there was a long, sandy run/walk out of the water) and even though it took several more minutes before I realized that I did in fact still have feet, hands and lips, I consider that swim a victory.

T1

Why is it so hard to get your wetsuit over your chip? There should be a better way. I put on socks, and a long sleever (and gloves, glasses, shoes and helmet) and 3:xx later I was out of there hoping to get warm on the bike.

The Bike - mission accomplished

I had two goals for this race: to ride the course faster than I did in the test ride the weekend before and to go faster than 29.8 mph on the downhill. I made the first goal with :50 to spare (finishing the 28 mile course in 2:14:xx) and went 32MPH ON THE DOWNHILL. Other than that, things were pretty much as I thought they would be. Because I knew sort of where I was at all times, I kept the computer on time and cadence and didn't worry about speed or distance. One of the people I rode the course with warned of two things: if you didn't slow down heading into the hairpins you'd skid out and crash and if you didn't gear down in advance of the big hill you'd drop your chain. Both happened, in fact one guy in front of me, dropped his chain and just fell over. I can't really articulate how giving and friendly some of the people in my tri-club are.

There were a large number of people riding the course in the race shirt, to a certain extent this might have been because they were too cold for sleeveless coming out of the ice bucket but, if not, what would they have done if they ran out of shirts? Did they really like that shirt so much that they opted for it over the one they brought from home?

T2

Nothing to see here. Carry on. 1:xx.

The Run - icing

Homemade icing. Not the overly sugary kind in the can. Despite being thirsty and it being hot and my legs being trashed and there not being enough water stops, I ran and I ran strong (for me). I was breathing hard for the first mile but I put my head down (metaphorically) and ran. For awhile, I thought I was cruising toward a 10K PR (in which case my coach would have gotten a raise, or at least some sort of coffee gift) but alas, the mile markers were off. But I finished only walking the water stops (of which there were not many) and running even splits and given all I had been through that day it was really more than I could have asked for. 1:03:xx

Later

After a nap and a shower some of the tri/running girls met up for beers and burgers. A fun way to end a fun (albeit long) day. Sore, full and sleepy with a smile on my face.

The end.

*If you doubt that I had all those thoughts in 30 seconds, I assure you I did. Which means that every night before you go to bed, you should count not having to live with my brain in your head among your blessings.

The Teacher and The Lawyer

"So you avoided him, stalked him and then found out that he sneakily got married behind your back?"

That's not exactly how I would have phrased it, but yes.  He was/is a lawyer and its important to note that before I avoided him I befriended him in a flurry of emails and make outs right up until he avoided me, which he did until I relocated to the Big City and ran into him at a random neighborhood bar (because really, the Big City isn't that big) at which point we resumed our friendship and emails without the making out ... which was good because I was also sort of dating the teacher at that time.  I think that those few weeks might have been the most complicated my love life has ever gotten ... wanting to date the lawyer, or at least have him want to date me, but actually dating the teacher and liking him as well.  Eventually they both went away, first the lawyer, then the teacher, suddenly gone.  With the teacher it made sense, but with the lawyer I was confused.  It was an on/off switch that got flipped. Twice.  We just stopped talking and never ran into each other again until I found myself on the same corner as him this weekend and pretty much ran into on coming traffic to avoid an encounter. 

So I avoided.  And then looked him up on our mutual alumni site and realized that he's married.  I immediately wished that I had noticed the girl he was with and wondered how he managed to get married without me knowing.  I mean I googled him at least once a year ... it seems it should have come up.

But it didn't.  And I'm certainly not upset to learn he's married, just a bit surprised.  And kind of I wonder why we couldn't have remained at least casual friends - the first time I ever rode the subway I was with him and he introduced me to one of my favorite burger joints ... but I guess the friend to friends that make out transition is easier than the friends that make out to casual friends transition.  Which is troubling.  Even though it makes sense.

Blah, blah, blah

It was a long week preceded by a long weekend.  Work was stressful ... for no real reason, just because it wasn't cake.  And because I was expected to be the one to know things, and I do know them, but because I'm the only one to know them, there was no there to confirm that I know what I know I know.  And all my fears and insecurities came to the surface (well, that might be a bit extreme ... let's just say I was tense).  Got it?

Yeah.  Me either.

All I know is that the tension made me nauseous and tired and working out, well, other than one good swim, it was crappy (when it was anything at all).

And then my mother picked a fight with me, because she was mad at my brother!  And of the three of us, my brother, my sister and I, I'm the sensitive one.  I'm the one that takes it all to heart and winds up crying hysterically at work  And while I have an office all lined up as soon as someone is ready to kick off the domino effect, right now I'm in a cube.  Which is not conducive to hysterics, so I had to hide in the conference room until I could breath.  And when I finally had it out of my mind, she called to apologize which got me upset all over again because WHY would you do that to ME when you know that you could it to the other two and they'd say "ok" and hang up the phone?

Anyway.

I needed to eat without puking and sleep for my road trip tomorrow (more on that later) but I wanted to run a little bit ... to make up for this week's crappiness.  But its pouring.  And once I start running outside I hate the t.mill.  So ... I needed new music.  Right?  Right.

I'm not a huge music affectionado (although, this blog is named after a cowboy mouth song), which is to say, that I'm not all adventurous and going to shows and out there finding the next great thing.  But if someone tells me about a band, I'll listen.  As long as it has words, that I can understand, that make sense, that tell a story*.  At my old job, a coworker would lend me cds (which is how i came to like the hold steady), I'd listen to them on the t.mill and decide if I liked them.

But, alas, I'm not at my old job.  So here I am, at the end of a crappy week, forced to go for a quick t.mill run and no one to ask for some new tunes (I suppose I could have asked the old co-worker but, except for this blog, I try not to advertise my Friday night lameness).  And then I remembered reading good things about the raconteurs.  I was hesitant, because I'm not sure if the guy that wrote the good things, determines if he likes a song based on its lyrics (does anyone do that?).  But I listened to some of the itunes clips and it seemed okay and it was Friday night and I was desperate for something, anything sort of good to happen ... so  I bought an album (yeah, I know.  a bit all or nothing. but how would i choose?) and I listened to it on the t.mill right up until my run began to suck (given the little I ate today, I can't complain) and then in the kitchen while I ate and ... that shit is awesome!  I'll need more time before I come up with a favorite line, but I can go to bed knowing that there was one good thing in a week of bile producing insecurity.  And that gives me hope that tomorrow's field trip might not be a complete failure.  And that I can use my knowledge of this band to counteract my previously professed obsession with James Blunt;)

*Seriously.  I have favorite lines, more than songs.  Like EVERY word of So Much Fun or, for the Hold Steady: "I've had kisses that made Judas look sincere."  Wouldn't you love to spit that at someone?  You make Judas seem sincere!  Followed by the slam of a door and the flip of some hair. 

Priceless

From the New York Times:

"James Carville helpfully told Eleanor Clift of Newsweek that if Hillary gave Obama one of her vehicles of testicular fortitude, 'they’d both have two.'"

A Random Thing Happened on the Way to Piermont

But first, before we get to that, a few things.  My single-ness is well documented on this website as are my efforts to not drown on July 13th (the date of the Big Race).  But with the summer and my summer house fast approaching, and my recent propensity to be hung over after two beers, I decided that I needed to focus and really fine tune my training ... so that come summer I can have more than 2 beers and stay out past 10 and STILL get up early to swim/bike/run.  So, Friday night (after a fun and productive trip to target), when I could have easily gone home, ordered in and gone to bed, I went out to dinner and then to the bar and STILL got up at 6 am to cycle the next day.  Go.Me.  And Saturday, after getting up at 6 am, biking 50 miles, running 1.5 miles and visiting grandma, I went out again until 12:30.  You can admit it, I know you're impressed.

Anyway, Saturday was chilly, but my friend Christine and I had vowed to ride to Piermont and the three boys that showed up for the group ride seemed to be on board, so we were off.  The boys usually take off on the these rides and we/I follow behind.  They wait for us at the obvious stopping points, we re-group and solider on.  We had regrouped for the last time before Piermont, our goal.  We had chosen the coffee shop at which we would meet when we got to our Goal (we were each in various stages of under-dressedness and none of us had full fingered gloves on, we needed to HOLD the coffee more than we needed to drink it at this point).  I admitted that I didn't know where to turn to get to our Goal, but Christine said she knew the way.

The first place we turned led us down a big hill to ... a dead end.  Where we saw 4 adults walking 8 dogs and I promptly FREAKED OUT on the inside but managed to hold it together on the outside and even TOUCHED one of the dogs (with the palm of my gloved hands, no skin touched the dog) in an effort to get accurate directions.  Because, not only did we now have to go UP the big hill, it was raining ... and the rain was coming down harder by the second.  We needed to get to the coffee shop and we needed to get there soon without anymore diversions.

We went up the hill and to the intersection where the dog walking people told us to turn but we weren't sure if it was right, we called the boys who should have been there by now, but they didn't answer.  We didn't want to waste more time so we asked a solo cyclist who was coming from where we thought Piermont was .... he shouted "its back that we, but I'm lost too."

Awesome.

We headed in the general direction from which he came, went the wrong way at one fork in the road, turned around and then, then saw signs for our Goal.  Just in time, because it was REALLY raining now.  And it was cold.  The guy we asked for directions passed us, reconfirming that we were going in the right direction (or were all hopelessly lost, I suppose) and as he passed I thought he looked familiar.  Like someone I went to college with maybe?  But I wasn't sure who, and it was a vague resemblance and its hard to know what someone REALLY looks like in cycling gear.  

But when we were almost there we passed him ... on the side of the road on the phone and it really did look like this guy, Brian.  Sort of.  Christine yelled out that she knew the way now, and potential guy from college, clipped in and followed us along.  Finally, finally in the warmth of the coffee shop, the direction/potential guy from college was behind us in line and I said, "Did you go to My College?"  And he said, "Yes.  K.Michele, right?"  I was floored that he knew my name.  Honestly, I would have been surprised that he knew my name in college - he was good friends with my roommate, but we shared very few words between us during those four years, so I really didn't think he'd recognize me now, ten years later.  We chatted.  He's training for IMLP (which is why I didn't recognize him right away, his body has totally changed), introduced me to his gf (who somehow got there first ... either she's speedy or he put in a bunch of miles and was meeting her for the end of his ride).

At any rate, what are the odds of getting lost in the rain on a bike 25 miles from home and asking some guy for directions and having it be someone you know (or knew 10 years ago)?

Random.

Finally, I know this isn't fast for the vast majority of people out there, but you know those 10 minute miles I lost after the marathon?  Lately, I've found them on occasion, but today, after my 50 miles of bike riding and 1.5 mile run off yesterday I ran 9 of them.  So, I think I can say that they are back.  Hopefully for good.  Or at least through July 13th.