So somehow, despite having ran a 10k earlier this month and a half marathon a week ago without any problems whatsoever, I've ended up with shin splits. The only thing I can figure is the epic workouts at OTF this past week (during what was called "Hell Week") did me in. This has been a problem for me before during OTF workouts, and I've narrowed it down to the pounding I put myself through during the "Push Pace" and "All Out" efforts. Normally, no matter what type of running I do, whether it be a training run or race itself, I go at a pretty steady and (what some could consider) slow pace. When I amp it up for these bursts of high intensity however, I think my body isn't used to it, which is putting too much strain on certain areas. Regardless, I met up with some Landshark's this morning to do a run, but by 1.5 miles into the planned 4-miler, the bottom half of my legs were toast. My shins were hurting, my calves were tight, and I could muster little more than a shuffle on the way out, while walking most of the way back in. Fortunately, the two gals I was "running," with (Jen and Jenn, oddly enough) were okay with the slower pace and frequent walk breaks so that somehow made it better.
I'm trying not to be too concerned about this, but whenever I've felt this discomfort before after OTF I've switched it up to the bike to keep from feeling that impact. However, the bike is what I did during yesterday's session and I STILL managed this outcome. At this point I'm just hoping that it doesn't hamper anything going forward, and with a planned rest day tomorrow I'll at least get a little bit of a break before hitting it again Monday. My biggest worry is that I will have to either cut back on the amount or effort I put into my OTF workouts, which I really don't want to do at all since I have really come to love my sessions. I feel like it's such a great workout and calorie burn that to not give it the full effort would be cheating myself out of the potential workout.
You'd think after 10 years of running I would have had this all figured out by now and that my body would have been used to what I've put it through. Unfortunately, I guess today's run just goes to show you can never be too prepared and that anything can happen despite your fitness level.
Final stats: 4.08 brutal miles in 55:48, a 13:42 pace :(
About Me
- Connie
- Louisville, Kentucky, United States
- After four years of long-distance running (5k, 10k, half-marathons) I got a little burnt out and decided to try my hand at triathlons. This blog is a journey into my training regime, as well as the play-by-play experiences I have had while competing in these amazingly fun events!
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Saturday, October 24, 2015
Urban Bourbon Half Marathon
Went out with decent hopes today of getting a PR on this course. Didn’t have a great finishing time two years ago, had a decent finish last year, and considering all of my PR’s in 2014 I felt good about completing today’s 13.1, my 28th Half-Marathon in 10 years.
The weather was great at the start – 64 degrees and overcast with a small chance of rain. Unfortunately, I didn’t account for the humidity and instead of a tank top chose a t-shirt which made the race fairly warm just a few miles in. Luckily, it wasn’t long before a small sprinkle came along and cooled me off, so all was well on the course.
I started off with a 6:1 interval – something I haven’t done in a long time, and moved it down to a 4:1 just two miles in. The additional 2 minutes of running were a little much for me and the 4:1 was much more manageable. I felt great throughout most of the race, and was surprised to find myself running up the hills in the park rather than taking the walk breaks I had allowed for. Walking just takes that much longer, and as long as I kept at a slow and steady shuffle, I didn’t wear myself out much more than I would had I walked it.
Nine miles in I began to get more and more tired. This seems to be around the mile marker that I hit my wall in this distance race, but knowing that I’ve completed it so many times before, I trudged along and kept a slower, but still steady, pace. That is until about 10.5 miles in when I began to feel some tummy rumbles coming on. I seriously considered walking the last few miles, feeling that if I did much more than that I would be in some major GI trouble. I decided to do a new interval of running two blocks, walking one, which I kept up until mile 12. Considering the “finishing with a walk,” option came into my mind again, but left once more when I took that final turn back down Main Street with only 8 more blocks to go. At this point I was running just one block rather than two, anticipating the finish line just ahead.
As I crossed the line I heard the announcer call my name and felt so good to finally be done with this race. My official finishing time was 2:31:31 and, initially, I was kind of bummed about this time. However, after going over the finishing times of my prior half-marathon’s I’ve found that this is actually faster than my average of the past 10 years – good news. I guess I had been doing so well these past few years that I just anticipated that this would be at least a sub 2:25 race for me. But… I guess you can’t ALWAYS have a great race and I’m certainly not upset that I got out and completed more than what the majority of the City of Louisville did this morning.
Next order of business: Look into training plans for next year’s KDF mini as well as the Half Ironman races.
The weather was great at the start – 64 degrees and overcast with a small chance of rain. Unfortunately, I didn’t account for the humidity and instead of a tank top chose a t-shirt which made the race fairly warm just a few miles in. Luckily, it wasn’t long before a small sprinkle came along and cooled me off, so all was well on the course.
I started off with a 6:1 interval – something I haven’t done in a long time, and moved it down to a 4:1 just two miles in. The additional 2 minutes of running were a little much for me and the 4:1 was much more manageable. I felt great throughout most of the race, and was surprised to find myself running up the hills in the park rather than taking the walk breaks I had allowed for. Walking just takes that much longer, and as long as I kept at a slow and steady shuffle, I didn’t wear myself out much more than I would had I walked it.
Nine miles in I began to get more and more tired. This seems to be around the mile marker that I hit my wall in this distance race, but knowing that I’ve completed it so many times before, I trudged along and kept a slower, but still steady, pace. That is until about 10.5 miles in when I began to feel some tummy rumbles coming on. I seriously considered walking the last few miles, feeling that if I did much more than that I would be in some major GI trouble. I decided to do a new interval of running two blocks, walking one, which I kept up until mile 12. Considering the “finishing with a walk,” option came into my mind again, but left once more when I took that final turn back down Main Street with only 8 more blocks to go. At this point I was running just one block rather than two, anticipating the finish line just ahead.
As I crossed the line I heard the announcer call my name and felt so good to finally be done with this race. My official finishing time was 2:31:31 and, initially, I was kind of bummed about this time. However, after going over the finishing times of my prior half-marathon’s I’ve found that this is actually faster than my average of the past 10 years – good news. I guess I had been doing so well these past few years that I just anticipated that this would be at least a sub 2:25 race for me. But… I guess you can’t ALWAYS have a great race and I’m certainly not upset that I got out and completed more than what the majority of the City of Louisville did this morning.
Next order of business: Look into training plans for next year’s KDF mini as well as the Half Ironman races.
Friday, October 23, 2015
Looking Ahead
It’s been over a month since I’ve posted anything – mostly due to being super busy at work, taking a week’s long vacation (much needed) to Destin with the family, and honestly just not having much to report. I volunteered for Ironman Louisville when it went off on October 11th, and initially was concerned that this would cause some sad and guilty feelings for me, but for the most part it was a positive and fun time. In fact, it wasn’t until Jen and I got to the finish line to cheer people in and hearing the words “You Are An Ironman,” time and time again that it kind of sank in that this could’ve been me. Still, my decision to pull out two months before the race was a good one, and I am looking forward to some other upcoming races.
My 28th half marathon takes off tomorrow morning with the Urban Bourbon 13.1 miler. Although I haven’t done much long distance running since I stopped training for IMLOU, I have kept up my Orange Theory workouts 5-6 days per week, and did complete a 10k without any problems just a few weeks ago, so there is no concern there. I also signed up for the Polar Bear Grand Prix again this year to keep me motivated throughout the winter, and am planning to complete the Shelbyville Tri Series again – something I haven’t done in years. The Triple Crown is also paid and accounted for, as well as the Derby Half Marathon. And….. I went ahead and pulled the trigger on my second and third half Ironman races – Muncie and Ohio.
I feel like I have some unfinished business in Muncie for a few reasons. One being that my head was in such a stressed out place at the time, consumed with thoughts of IMLOU and my lack of confidence in completing the event. I felt this mind-f*ck seriously hampered part of my race and I want to see what I can do when I don’t have an enormous amount of stress hanging over me. Two, because I hurt my knee 6 miles into the run, I want to be able to redeem that leg of the race on faster, stronger, and more prepared stems this year. The race in Ohio is just a bit of a bonus since it was advertised as having a flat bike course and rolling hills run. This I can do, and being that it’s just 6 weeks past Muncie I’ll already be trained so I thought, “why not.”
I’m not yet sure what other fun races I will add to the calendar for next year. I definitely want to get in another couple of half marathon’s, and am hoping to find a decent team for the Bourbon Chase – I really missed doing it this year, and since I was in Destin it wasn’t even an option.
The depression I struggled with during my IMLOU training has all but subsided and I’m now thinking that it was mostly brought on by me psyching myself out about the race. I was always so down and negative on myself about my abilities, dreading training rides, and comparing myself to others that it started messing with my mind a whole lot more than I should have allowed it. That’s not to say there wasn’t some internal chemical stuff going on with my brain that also contributed, but I definitely see how my thinking didn’t help the situation much.
I still have people asking me if I’ll do an Ironman and I really don’t know. If I do, I’ve already decided it won’t be before 2017 and, even then, only if I’m a lot more physically and mentally prepared going into it. Either way, I do plan on enjoying the half Ironman races I have planned as well as my old reliable half-marathons that I LOVE!
My 28th half marathon takes off tomorrow morning with the Urban Bourbon 13.1 miler. Although I haven’t done much long distance running since I stopped training for IMLOU, I have kept up my Orange Theory workouts 5-6 days per week, and did complete a 10k without any problems just a few weeks ago, so there is no concern there. I also signed up for the Polar Bear Grand Prix again this year to keep me motivated throughout the winter, and am planning to complete the Shelbyville Tri Series again – something I haven’t done in years. The Triple Crown is also paid and accounted for, as well as the Derby Half Marathon. And….. I went ahead and pulled the trigger on my second and third half Ironman races – Muncie and Ohio.
I feel like I have some unfinished business in Muncie for a few reasons. One being that my head was in such a stressed out place at the time, consumed with thoughts of IMLOU and my lack of confidence in completing the event. I felt this mind-f*ck seriously hampered part of my race and I want to see what I can do when I don’t have an enormous amount of stress hanging over me. Two, because I hurt my knee 6 miles into the run, I want to be able to redeem that leg of the race on faster, stronger, and more prepared stems this year. The race in Ohio is just a bit of a bonus since it was advertised as having a flat bike course and rolling hills run. This I can do, and being that it’s just 6 weeks past Muncie I’ll already be trained so I thought, “why not.”
I’m not yet sure what other fun races I will add to the calendar for next year. I definitely want to get in another couple of half marathon’s, and am hoping to find a decent team for the Bourbon Chase – I really missed doing it this year, and since I was in Destin it wasn’t even an option.
The depression I struggled with during my IMLOU training has all but subsided and I’m now thinking that it was mostly brought on by me psyching myself out about the race. I was always so down and negative on myself about my abilities, dreading training rides, and comparing myself to others that it started messing with my mind a whole lot more than I should have allowed it. That’s not to say there wasn’t some internal chemical stuff going on with my brain that also contributed, but I definitely see how my thinking didn’t help the situation much.
I still have people asking me if I’ll do an Ironman and I really don’t know. If I do, I’ve already decided it won’t be before 2017 and, even then, only if I’m a lot more physically and mentally prepared going into it. Either way, I do plan on enjoying the half Ironman races I have planned as well as my old reliable half-marathons that I LOVE!
Saturday, September 19, 2015
Bike to Beat Cancer
For the most part I have continued to feel better mentally and emotionally since pulling out of IMLOU, however, last weekend my depression came back for a few days and it was pretty tough to find the motivation to do much of anything. I missed yet another race, the OKHT bike ride for which I had planned to complete the 50-mile route. I had good intentions as I loaded up the bike the night before, laid out all my clothing, and went to bed at a decent hour in preparation. Unfortunately, morning came and I couldn’t muster up the emotional strength to get myself out of bed. The fact that it was seriously chilly out as well (50-something degrees) didn’t make it any more appealing. Of course, as usual, I felt uber-guilty for having missed it and seeing everyone’s pictures on FB only fed into these feelings.
BUT…..
Over the past week I seem to have redeemed myself a bit and am feeling better than I have in a long time. I managed a 15-mile bike ride AFTER my 60 minute OTF session on Monday, followed by another OTF workout on Tuesday. The 5-mile run I did on Wednesday was the best I’d had in a while, which was followed up by yet another OTF session on Thursday. Friday was supposed to be more of the same, but since I had to pick up my packet for the Bike to Beat Cancer dead smack in the middle of rush-hour, I opted to save my time and energy for today’s bike ride instead.
It was perfect weather for the bike, which was a great surprise since they had been calling for a 30% chance of rain all week. We took off about 8:15 a.m. and I had truly planned on this being a nice, leisurely little pedal throughout the city – not only because I didn’t mind taking it easy, but because the start of the ride was pretty congested and I ended up finishing that first 5 miles in about 23 minutes. Once it broke up however, my mind and body had a different plan and I started to push my pace a little bit.
It was a fairly scenic ride for the most part, with a few rolling hills during the first half of the course that called for some quad engagement. Once we got into The Parklands I was surprised to see that I had finished that first 15 miles in under an hour – I must’ve been hauling butt for the previous 10 miles! Unfortunately, in order to leave the park we had to go up one monster of a hill, and I wondered if I would have to get off and walk the bike up (fortunately, I did not).
Not far ahead I came upon a woman who had JUST went down on some gravel. Me and some other cyclists stopped to help her out, and it appeared that she had knocked the breath out of herself as she complained about not being able to breath. Fortunately, her husband wasn’t far behind and he was able to take over and comfort her as they waited for professional help to arrive. Luckily she didn’t look to be too bad off, but it still reminded me to take it easy and watch myself on some of the more treacherous parts of the course. Away I went once again, and a few more rolling hills lead me to the third SAG stop where the 65 and 100 mile folks split off.
Up until the first 20 miles or so I had considered doing the 65-miler instead of the 35. I told myself leading up to the ride that I would wait to see how I felt half-way in to make a decision. Since my legs were already starting to feel it, and it looked like some clouds were rolling in, I decided on the 35 mile-only route and headed off with a small group of guys for the last 10 miles.
We stuck together for a bit until one guy had to stop to fix his chain. Not wanting to be “beat,” by these men during the last portion of the ride, I left them behind and kept a pretty decent pace for the remaining 8 miles or so - ending up with a 15.6 mph moving average – my fastest pace ever besides Muncie in July. I must say, I was super surprised by this considering Monday's ride was a mere 14.2 mph. But, I guess the adrenaline as well as the competition (at least, in my mind) gave me enough “umph” to get it done as quickly as I did.
I would definitely suggest this race to others. It was very well organized, the feeling in the air was extremely positive and supportive, and the SAG stops were wonderful. The pretty scenery was a definite plus, and the course itself was just challenging enough that you felt like you were accomplishing something, but not unbearable enough that you're hating life. I've already signed up for next year when, hopefully, I can step it up to at least that 65-mile route. Next up - Harvest Homecoming 25-mile ride next weekend.
BUT…..
Over the past week I seem to have redeemed myself a bit and am feeling better than I have in a long time. I managed a 15-mile bike ride AFTER my 60 minute OTF session on Monday, followed by another OTF workout on Tuesday. The 5-mile run I did on Wednesday was the best I’d had in a while, which was followed up by yet another OTF session on Thursday. Friday was supposed to be more of the same, but since I had to pick up my packet for the Bike to Beat Cancer dead smack in the middle of rush-hour, I opted to save my time and energy for today’s bike ride instead.
It was perfect weather for the bike, which was a great surprise since they had been calling for a 30% chance of rain all week. We took off about 8:15 a.m. and I had truly planned on this being a nice, leisurely little pedal throughout the city – not only because I didn’t mind taking it easy, but because the start of the ride was pretty congested and I ended up finishing that first 5 miles in about 23 minutes. Once it broke up however, my mind and body had a different plan and I started to push my pace a little bit.
It was a fairly scenic ride for the most part, with a few rolling hills during the first half of the course that called for some quad engagement. Once we got into The Parklands I was surprised to see that I had finished that first 15 miles in under an hour – I must’ve been hauling butt for the previous 10 miles! Unfortunately, in order to leave the park we had to go up one monster of a hill, and I wondered if I would have to get off and walk the bike up (fortunately, I did not).
Not far ahead I came upon a woman who had JUST went down on some gravel. Me and some other cyclists stopped to help her out, and it appeared that she had knocked the breath out of herself as she complained about not being able to breath. Fortunately, her husband wasn’t far behind and he was able to take over and comfort her as they waited for professional help to arrive. Luckily she didn’t look to be too bad off, but it still reminded me to take it easy and watch myself on some of the more treacherous parts of the course. Away I went once again, and a few more rolling hills lead me to the third SAG stop where the 65 and 100 mile folks split off.
Up until the first 20 miles or so I had considered doing the 65-miler instead of the 35. I told myself leading up to the ride that I would wait to see how I felt half-way in to make a decision. Since my legs were already starting to feel it, and it looked like some clouds were rolling in, I decided on the 35 mile-only route and headed off with a small group of guys for the last 10 miles.
We stuck together for a bit until one guy had to stop to fix his chain. Not wanting to be “beat,” by these men during the last portion of the ride, I left them behind and kept a pretty decent pace for the remaining 8 miles or so - ending up with a 15.6 mph moving average – my fastest pace ever besides Muncie in July. I must say, I was super surprised by this considering Monday's ride was a mere 14.2 mph. But, I guess the adrenaline as well as the competition (at least, in my mind) gave me enough “umph” to get it done as quickly as I did.
I would definitely suggest this race to others. It was very well organized, the feeling in the air was extremely positive and supportive, and the SAG stops were wonderful. The pretty scenery was a definite plus, and the course itself was just challenging enough that you felt like you were accomplishing something, but not unbearable enough that you're hating life. I've already signed up for next year when, hopefully, I can step it up to at least that 65-mile route. Next up - Harvest Homecoming 25-mile ride next weekend.
Friday, September 4, 2015
Life Without Ironman
It’s been three weeks since I decided to pull out of Ironman and, I must admit, I neither miss the training nor do I regret making the decision to skip the race. The last 21 days have actually been the most relaxed and happiest I’ve felt in months – this is very telling about just how miserable I was during my training process.
I was initially concerned that I wouldn’t be able to go on Facebook and risk seeing everyone talk about their training, uploading workouts, post things about how they’re feeling, what their nutrition struggles are, and the like; worrying that I would get down and regretful about my decision. But after a few days I found that I was actually relieved that it wasn’t ME out there doing a 7 hour bike or getting up at 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday to run 18 miles. I’m still not quite sure what it was/is about the training or the race in general that was just too much for me this year. Maybe it’s not anything about either of those things in particular, but more so that my heart just wasn’t in it for whatever reason, and that’s okay too.
But…. enough about that. As I said in my previous post regarding pulling out of the race, I definitely want to keep up with the running/swimming/biking in order not to lose what I’ve gained. So far I’ve been able to do this pretty consistently. I’ve been trying to get out for a few rides a week, making sure that they’re at least 20+ miles or so as not to slack on my endurance. I still plan on doing the OKHT and Bike to Beat Cancer coming up the next two weekends, but instead of doing the full century rides as I had previous planned, I’m completing the 50-milers – enough to make me feel like I’m doing something, but not enough that I’m hating life.
The swimming has been harder to keep up just because it’s so tedious and boring. I find it REALLY difficult to get out of bed during the week to go for a swim before work – it’s not my favorite leg of the triathlon. However, since I’m not overly concerned with improving my swim or getting significantly faster, I figure I can pick this back up when I’m training for an actual tri next year.
The running has re-established itself as the sport I spend most of my time on, for two reasons. One is that I started back with Orange Theory Fitness, which is probably my most favorite workout regime of all time. I had to stop my membership in April when Ironman training intensified since I wouldn’t have time to do the OTF workouts PLUS my tri training. Second, my oldest niece has decided to try her hand (or feet and legs) at running and is training for her first race, the Great Pumpkin 10k in October. I’m so proud of her and since I love running I volunteered to help her train for the event. We’re trying to get together 2-3 times a week to do our runs together, which gives me more miles than I would get doing OTF alone. It’s a win-win.
One thing that I did have to change when I quit training was stuffing my face as much! It’s easy to eat a lot of food when you’re burning so many calories, but I noticed during my first week without all the tri training that I was still eating as if I just completed a 60 mile bike ride – not good. So, I’ve had to start watching my calorie consumption - taking into consideration that an hour of OTF still burns less calories (about 550) than a 90 minute bike ride (about 800). One thing that I was not expecting, however, was a change in my bathroom habits….
DISCLOSURE: THIS NEXT SECTION IS ABOUT POOPING.
So yeah, obviously the more you workout the more your body is going to “move things along,” hence you’re going to poop more often and more regularly. Sometimes up to three times a day in my case. This was an awesome side effect of my tri training as I love a good poop, not gonna lie or even try to sugar coat it. But…now that I’m not working out AS intensively, the bowel train seems to take its own sweet time pulling out of the station. No longer am I a “go every morning,” girl, but more of a “go whenever the mood strikes,” woman. Not a fan of this change, I must say.
Regardless of this lack-of-poo fiasco however, I feel great – both mentally and physically. I feel like I’m at a really good place in my life right now as my practice is going extremely well, I’m looking forward to a vacation with my family in a month, and I’m branching out socially to make sure I get a good balance. I’ve decided to put dating on the back burner for the foreseeable future, which is the first time in a LONG TIME that I’ve actually been okay with not looking for a mate and just enjoying my singlehood. As they say, “I just wanna do me for a while.”
As for my triathlon future, I definitely still want to compete and am interested in returning to Muncie next year to see what I can really do when I don’t have the weight of a full Ironman resting on my shoulders. Until then, it’ll be more running, biking, OTF, spending time with my friends and family, cuddling with the pup, and enjoying some reading and Netflix as we make our way into Fall.
I was initially concerned that I wouldn’t be able to go on Facebook and risk seeing everyone talk about their training, uploading workouts, post things about how they’re feeling, what their nutrition struggles are, and the like; worrying that I would get down and regretful about my decision. But after a few days I found that I was actually relieved that it wasn’t ME out there doing a 7 hour bike or getting up at 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday to run 18 miles. I’m still not quite sure what it was/is about the training or the race in general that was just too much for me this year. Maybe it’s not anything about either of those things in particular, but more so that my heart just wasn’t in it for whatever reason, and that’s okay too.
But…. enough about that. As I said in my previous post regarding pulling out of the race, I definitely want to keep up with the running/swimming/biking in order not to lose what I’ve gained. So far I’ve been able to do this pretty consistently. I’ve been trying to get out for a few rides a week, making sure that they’re at least 20+ miles or so as not to slack on my endurance. I still plan on doing the OKHT and Bike to Beat Cancer coming up the next two weekends, but instead of doing the full century rides as I had previous planned, I’m completing the 50-milers – enough to make me feel like I’m doing something, but not enough that I’m hating life.
The swimming has been harder to keep up just because it’s so tedious and boring. I find it REALLY difficult to get out of bed during the week to go for a swim before work – it’s not my favorite leg of the triathlon. However, since I’m not overly concerned with improving my swim or getting significantly faster, I figure I can pick this back up when I’m training for an actual tri next year.
The running has re-established itself as the sport I spend most of my time on, for two reasons. One is that I started back with Orange Theory Fitness, which is probably my most favorite workout regime of all time. I had to stop my membership in April when Ironman training intensified since I wouldn’t have time to do the OTF workouts PLUS my tri training. Second, my oldest niece has decided to try her hand (or feet and legs) at running and is training for her first race, the Great Pumpkin 10k in October. I’m so proud of her and since I love running I volunteered to help her train for the event. We’re trying to get together 2-3 times a week to do our runs together, which gives me more miles than I would get doing OTF alone. It’s a win-win.
One thing that I did have to change when I quit training was stuffing my face as much! It’s easy to eat a lot of food when you’re burning so many calories, but I noticed during my first week without all the tri training that I was still eating as if I just completed a 60 mile bike ride – not good. So, I’ve had to start watching my calorie consumption - taking into consideration that an hour of OTF still burns less calories (about 550) than a 90 minute bike ride (about 800). One thing that I was not expecting, however, was a change in my bathroom habits….
DISCLOSURE: THIS NEXT SECTION IS ABOUT POOPING.
So yeah, obviously the more you workout the more your body is going to “move things along,” hence you’re going to poop more often and more regularly. Sometimes up to three times a day in my case. This was an awesome side effect of my tri training as I love a good poop, not gonna lie or even try to sugar coat it. But…now that I’m not working out AS intensively, the bowel train seems to take its own sweet time pulling out of the station. No longer am I a “go every morning,” girl, but more of a “go whenever the mood strikes,” woman. Not a fan of this change, I must say.
Regardless of this lack-of-poo fiasco however, I feel great – both mentally and physically. I feel like I’m at a really good place in my life right now as my practice is going extremely well, I’m looking forward to a vacation with my family in a month, and I’m branching out socially to make sure I get a good balance. I’ve decided to put dating on the back burner for the foreseeable future, which is the first time in a LONG TIME that I’ve actually been okay with not looking for a mate and just enjoying my singlehood. As they say, “I just wanna do me for a while.”
As for my triathlon future, I definitely still want to compete and am interested in returning to Muncie next year to see what I can really do when I don’t have the weight of a full Ironman resting on my shoulders. Until then, it’ll be more running, biking, OTF, spending time with my friends and family, cuddling with the pup, and enjoying some reading and Netflix as we make our way into Fall.
Monday, August 17, 2015
Not This Year - and I'm Okay With That
After much back and forth and weighing the pros and cons, I've decided that this year will not be my Ironman year after all. A number of things contributed to this decision: the first year of opening my practice full time and the time and energy that consumes, my off and on depression that has been so sporadic and unpredictable that I could never tell from one day to the next if I would have the energy and motivation to train, my lack of physical training due to the depression, and most of all not feeling mentally prepared for this long day.
My feelings about the long training days and the race itself have been so erratic that I wasn't sure or confident in how I would feel come race day. Would it be a good day, or a bad day? Would I ever feel confident in my abilities to do this, or would there forever be doubt? One day I would be on top of the world enjoying a nice ride or a good run, and the next I'd be dreading it - just counting down the miles or minutes to when I'd be finished. Maybe this is normal in Ironman training, I don't know. Even if it is I'm not equipped at this time to cope with it appropriately, and feel I need at least another year to build both my mental and physical stamina to conquer something as large as a 140.6 mile race.
When I signed up last October I had high hopes. Probably too high considering the only triathlon I had done in the prior three years had just taken place a month before; coming in the form of a sprint in which I placed second to last. And although placing near or at the back of the pack was never an issue for me (I've come in dead last in two Olympic tris and a 10k trail run), I don't think I was prepared for how mentally stressful and fatigued training for an Ironman can be.
If and when I decide to try my hand at the long course again, I want to be fully ready for it. I want it to be a fun experience - or, at least, not one that I dread. Someone said to me in the past few weeks, "I bet you're looking forward to October." I responded that I was only looking forward to it being over, and getting my life back. Little did I know, they were referring to my Destin vacation while I was referring to IMLOU. I don't want to have that kind of attitude going into it. I want to be able to enjoy myself and enjoy the process and appreciate the fact that I have the physical capabilities to complete such a great feat.
When I finally made the decision this past weekend to pull out, I was 10% sad and 90% relieved. This tells me that I've made the right decision for myself. In the meantime, I do plan to continue training. I've come a long way to just give it all up now, and want to keep what I've gained in order to complete a 70.3 or two next year. My goal is to continue to build my physical stamina and strength and to take things day by day in order to determine what the future holds. Will there be a 140.6 in my future, who knows. But before I make that decision again I plan to be as prepared as possible.
My feelings about the long training days and the race itself have been so erratic that I wasn't sure or confident in how I would feel come race day. Would it be a good day, or a bad day? Would I ever feel confident in my abilities to do this, or would there forever be doubt? One day I would be on top of the world enjoying a nice ride or a good run, and the next I'd be dreading it - just counting down the miles or minutes to when I'd be finished. Maybe this is normal in Ironman training, I don't know. Even if it is I'm not equipped at this time to cope with it appropriately, and feel I need at least another year to build both my mental and physical stamina to conquer something as large as a 140.6 mile race.
When I signed up last October I had high hopes. Probably too high considering the only triathlon I had done in the prior three years had just taken place a month before; coming in the form of a sprint in which I placed second to last. And although placing near or at the back of the pack was never an issue for me (I've come in dead last in two Olympic tris and a 10k trail run), I don't think I was prepared for how mentally stressful and fatigued training for an Ironman can be.
If and when I decide to try my hand at the long course again, I want to be fully ready for it. I want it to be a fun experience - or, at least, not one that I dread. Someone said to me in the past few weeks, "I bet you're looking forward to October." I responded that I was only looking forward to it being over, and getting my life back. Little did I know, they were referring to my Destin vacation while I was referring to IMLOU. I don't want to have that kind of attitude going into it. I want to be able to enjoy myself and enjoy the process and appreciate the fact that I have the physical capabilities to complete such a great feat.
When I finally made the decision this past weekend to pull out, I was 10% sad and 90% relieved. This tells me that I've made the right decision for myself. In the meantime, I do plan to continue training. I've come a long way to just give it all up now, and want to keep what I've gained in order to complete a 70.3 or two next year. My goal is to continue to build my physical stamina and strength and to take things day by day in order to determine what the future holds. Will there be a 140.6 in my future, who knows. But before I make that decision again I plan to be as prepared as possible.
Sunday, August 2, 2015
Rose Colored Glasses Indeed
I had my longest swim ever yesterday at 3500 meters (2.17 miles) in 1:37, which is good enough to meet the swim cutoff and then some, pending any catastrophes. Once again, I broke it up by 7x500 alternating with the pull buoy and without. Felt great, probably could have pushed it a little more, but I was trying to pace myself more than anything. Once again, it was more boring than difficult but I’ve decided that comes with the territory and it gives me time to think – possibly too much time to think – but with my newfound optimism it hasn’t been a bad thing.
This is why I was actually looking forward to today’s long bike ride. There was an 80 mile option to do with the Landsharks, but not knowing the route and not wanting to get dropped I opted to go it alone out on the IMLOU course. My plan was to start at 7:00, but I ended up lying in bed fully awake between the hours of 2:00 and 4:00 a.m. so I opted for a later start. Luckily, in terms of Kentucky summers, it was a somewhat mild day with lower humidity – although the sun was beating down from the start.
My plan was to start at Prospect Kroger and complete at least one loop, sans 1694. I didn’t mind going out alone because I planned to take it easy as I was contemplating a possible second loop depending on how I felt. Not only that, I’ve never taken it easy on this course before as I’ve always been so concerned with being left behind and keeping others’ waiting (although I’ve never heard anyone else complain of this), and I wanted to see what it felt like to ride without any self-enabled pressure.
My ride started out great. I headed up 42, passed 1694, and was enjoying the course immensely for the first time ever! Instead of thinking about how long of a ride I had ahead of me, the upcoming hills, and the mid-morning sun I was singing tunes in my head such as “Easy,” by Lionel Ritchie and Chumbwamba’s “Tubthumping.” When I turned onto 393 I made a mental note to re-count the number of hills and, sure enough, there are 8 total rather than 7 as I previously thought (#2 is the toughest, by the way, while #7 is the easiest). Why is this important you ask? Well, I’m a number’s girl. When faced with sports of the endurance type I find it helps my mental state to break things down. When running a half marathon I tell myself at mile 4 that I have “just a little over two more of what I just did,” left to go. For this course, knowing that 393 is 5 miles long isn’t enough – I needed to count the hills so that I could click them off in my head, one by one, knowing how much more in terms of incline I would have to endure before that sweet, sweet break on 146.
Something else that was new on today’s ride: I took notice of my surrounding and really paid attention to the beauty of the course. Not only that, but I stored a few mental notes on sections of the course that are a bit “easier.” For instance, the stretch of road between the first and second hills on 393 is a gorgeous, tree-lined, shaded area that offers a nice little break from both the sun and the ascents. And on 146, just before turning left onto Ballard School Road, there is a lovely downhill that allows a break from the constant peddling. It was nice to actually “experience,” the course rather than merely, “survive,” it as I had been doing.
By the time I stopped in Sligo I was feeling the effects of the heat, even though I made sure to continuously drink from the bottle I strapped between my aero bars as was previously suggested after last week’s dehydration fiasco. I took a small break at the corner store, grabbed a water, a bag of Frito’s (80% of which went to waste), and a 12 oz. Coke. At this point I had already consumed about 20 oz. of Infinit and probably 10 oz. of water, so I downed most of the Coke, refilled my aero bottle with some more Infinit I had on reserve, and replaced my warm bottle of water with this new chilled one - which I promptly drank from after ingesting a mouthful of Napalm. I met some guys who were finishing up their second loop, as I was still toying with whether or not I would go for another round. I figured I’d see how I felt once I got going again, and make a decision further down the road.
So here’s where that whole numbers game comes in again. 393 is approximately 10 miles from the store. 1694 another 3 miles, and River Road another 7 miles past that. That’s a long stretch without any turns when you’re looking forward to finishing up for the day so, I made a deal with myself to not look at the Garmin and instead enjoy the rest of the day for what it was – just a slow, peaceful journey with my thoughts and surroundings. My legs were still feeling okay for the most part, and thanks to the removal of the visor from my helmet a few weeks ago, my shoulders and neck weren’t in nearly as much discomfort as they had been on prior long rides. The songs continued to play in my head (“Rose Colored Glasses,” by John Conlee), and the miles continued to click away. Even the hills didn’t seem as bad as before on the trip back. Rather than telling myself, “I hate this,” I reminded my quads that the inclines only make me stronger, that the hills are part of the IMLOU package, and that I GET to do this!
As I got closer to the car I noticed that I still had 25 minutes left of my 4 hour ride to complete. I took a leisurely jaunt down some backroads off of River Road before making my way back to the parking lot for what turned out to be a 3:50 ride with 56.27 miles. The interesting thing is, although I took it easy on this ride I still came out with the same average (14.7mph) that I see on rides where I feel like I’m really pushing myself. Not only that, but my average heart rate stayed approximately 10 beats below what it normally does. This is actually great news because what it shows me is I can get the same outcome with less effort and hopefully feel better physically by the time the run comes around.
Even though I never got around to that second loop today, it’s still a mental hurdle that I want to achieve as my training continues. I have upcoming rides of 5 and 5.5 hours prior to the two century rides I signed up for taking place in mid-September, and I’d like to get up to 80ish miles at the very least prior to taking on those monsters.
Overall I’d say that this was the most decent ride I’ve had this training season, and I honestly believe that the reiki I had last week had a lot to do with it. It’s so nice to finally be in a place where I am ENJOYING the experience and the training rather than dreading it. I have another appointment with Kim this Wednesday for another session, and still being unfamiliar with how exactly this all works, I’m assuming we’ll re-evaluate where I am with everything and continue to do work on residual things we may have missed last week. Until then, I’m loving life on so many different levels right now, and look forward to seeing how far my body and mind can go.
This is why I was actually looking forward to today’s long bike ride. There was an 80 mile option to do with the Landsharks, but not knowing the route and not wanting to get dropped I opted to go it alone out on the IMLOU course. My plan was to start at 7:00, but I ended up lying in bed fully awake between the hours of 2:00 and 4:00 a.m. so I opted for a later start. Luckily, in terms of Kentucky summers, it was a somewhat mild day with lower humidity – although the sun was beating down from the start.
My plan was to start at Prospect Kroger and complete at least one loop, sans 1694. I didn’t mind going out alone because I planned to take it easy as I was contemplating a possible second loop depending on how I felt. Not only that, I’ve never taken it easy on this course before as I’ve always been so concerned with being left behind and keeping others’ waiting (although I’ve never heard anyone else complain of this), and I wanted to see what it felt like to ride without any self-enabled pressure.
My ride started out great. I headed up 42, passed 1694, and was enjoying the course immensely for the first time ever! Instead of thinking about how long of a ride I had ahead of me, the upcoming hills, and the mid-morning sun I was singing tunes in my head such as “Easy,” by Lionel Ritchie and Chumbwamba’s “Tubthumping.” When I turned onto 393 I made a mental note to re-count the number of hills and, sure enough, there are 8 total rather than 7 as I previously thought (#2 is the toughest, by the way, while #7 is the easiest). Why is this important you ask? Well, I’m a number’s girl. When faced with sports of the endurance type I find it helps my mental state to break things down. When running a half marathon I tell myself at mile 4 that I have “just a little over two more of what I just did,” left to go. For this course, knowing that 393 is 5 miles long isn’t enough – I needed to count the hills so that I could click them off in my head, one by one, knowing how much more in terms of incline I would have to endure before that sweet, sweet break on 146.
Something else that was new on today’s ride: I took notice of my surrounding and really paid attention to the beauty of the course. Not only that, but I stored a few mental notes on sections of the course that are a bit “easier.” For instance, the stretch of road between the first and second hills on 393 is a gorgeous, tree-lined, shaded area that offers a nice little break from both the sun and the ascents. And on 146, just before turning left onto Ballard School Road, there is a lovely downhill that allows a break from the constant peddling. It was nice to actually “experience,” the course rather than merely, “survive,” it as I had been doing.
By the time I stopped in Sligo I was feeling the effects of the heat, even though I made sure to continuously drink from the bottle I strapped between my aero bars as was previously suggested after last week’s dehydration fiasco. I took a small break at the corner store, grabbed a water, a bag of Frito’s (80% of which went to waste), and a 12 oz. Coke. At this point I had already consumed about 20 oz. of Infinit and probably 10 oz. of water, so I downed most of the Coke, refilled my aero bottle with some more Infinit I had on reserve, and replaced my warm bottle of water with this new chilled one - which I promptly drank from after ingesting a mouthful of Napalm. I met some guys who were finishing up their second loop, as I was still toying with whether or not I would go for another round. I figured I’d see how I felt once I got going again, and make a decision further down the road.
So here’s where that whole numbers game comes in again. 393 is approximately 10 miles from the store. 1694 another 3 miles, and River Road another 7 miles past that. That’s a long stretch without any turns when you’re looking forward to finishing up for the day so, I made a deal with myself to not look at the Garmin and instead enjoy the rest of the day for what it was – just a slow, peaceful journey with my thoughts and surroundings. My legs were still feeling okay for the most part, and thanks to the removal of the visor from my helmet a few weeks ago, my shoulders and neck weren’t in nearly as much discomfort as they had been on prior long rides. The songs continued to play in my head (“Rose Colored Glasses,” by John Conlee), and the miles continued to click away. Even the hills didn’t seem as bad as before on the trip back. Rather than telling myself, “I hate this,” I reminded my quads that the inclines only make me stronger, that the hills are part of the IMLOU package, and that I GET to do this!
As I got closer to the car I noticed that I still had 25 minutes left of my 4 hour ride to complete. I took a leisurely jaunt down some backroads off of River Road before making my way back to the parking lot for what turned out to be a 3:50 ride with 56.27 miles. The interesting thing is, although I took it easy on this ride I still came out with the same average (14.7mph) that I see on rides where I feel like I’m really pushing myself. Not only that, but my average heart rate stayed approximately 10 beats below what it normally does. This is actually great news because what it shows me is I can get the same outcome with less effort and hopefully feel better physically by the time the run comes around.
Even though I never got around to that second loop today, it’s still a mental hurdle that I want to achieve as my training continues. I have upcoming rides of 5 and 5.5 hours prior to the two century rides I signed up for taking place in mid-September, and I’d like to get up to 80ish miles at the very least prior to taking on those monsters.
Overall I’d say that this was the most decent ride I’ve had this training season, and I honestly believe that the reiki I had last week had a lot to do with it. It’s so nice to finally be in a place where I am ENJOYING the experience and the training rather than dreading it. I have another appointment with Kim this Wednesday for another session, and still being unfamiliar with how exactly this all works, I’m assuming we’ll re-evaluate where I am with everything and continue to do work on residual things we may have missed last week. Until then, I’m loving life on so many different levels right now, and look forward to seeing how far my body and mind can go.
Friday, July 31, 2015
A New Leaf
So I’m guessing my last post or two must’ve relayed a lot more of my negativity and lack of confidence than I realized because I’ve had three people reach out to me asking how I’m doing, if everything is okay, etc. I must admit, looking back I have not been in a good place for most of the last few months – at least. I was questioning both my ability, and my want to do Ironman Louisville.
As I stated in a prior post, because of these feelings and the lack of their improvement regardless of what I did, I sought outside help which came in the form of a massage therapist (Kim) who also performs Reiki (Google it). The details of our 2 ½ hour appointment, along with the personal nature of things that came out are too much for this blog, but suffice it to say I left there feeling a huge weight lifted off of me, and a much more optimistic outlook regarding multiple areas of my life.
Since this process my energy and motivation to train has improved drastically. I found myself out on the bike for an hour yesterday, followed by an hour run – neither of which brought on pessimism or doubt. I was even looking forward to these two workouts and began a new mantra getting up the hills on the bike: “Hurts less than a DNF.” And this is true. No matter how much discomfort and fatigue I feel while training (or during the IM), the physical aspect of what my body is put through could not be nearly as painful as a DNF (of course, there are circumstances in which a DNF is the only option, but in my case a DNF due to lack of training and confidence has been my biggest concern.)
It’s funny but, it’s almost as if my mindset has done a complete 180, and that I’ve finally woken up to the fact that this can be a fun process, and that the outcome of gaining a personal achievement is what it’s really all about for me. I’ve had to do some soul searching to come to this conclusion as I haven’t been 100% certain as to why I actually wanted to complete an Ironman. With the help of a triathlon friend who reached out to me, and whom I met with earlier this week, I began to ask myself some tough questions and continued to toy with the idea of pulling out all together. The following day, however, I felt much better about things and decided to move forward – even going so far as to signing up for 2 Century rides and a 2.4 mile swim as a part of my training plan.
This change in mood has made the training feel a lot less “heavy,” too - if that makes sense. My rides this week have seemed to go more smoothly, and my runs felt great as well. I don’t find myself questioning my abilities, cursing the hills, or dreading putting on my cycling gear, running shoes or swim cap. Oddly enough, I’ve found that I have been exhibiting a lot less anger while driving as well. I’ve been much more forgiving and have noticed that the “F bomb,” has decreased in my vocabulary by 87.6% (roughly). All around, I feel much less negative and pessimistic about things – something I haven’t felt in a long time.
Again, the session I had with Kim gave me some insight as to why I’ve been thinking and feeling the way I have for the past few years, even though I tried to hide it behind this mask of happiness and words of, “I’m okay.” Well, I wasn’t okay. I don’t think I’ve been okay for a while. But right here, right now, I can honestly say that I’m in a much better place than I was – and that feels amazing.
As I stated in a prior post, because of these feelings and the lack of their improvement regardless of what I did, I sought outside help which came in the form of a massage therapist (Kim) who also performs Reiki (Google it). The details of our 2 ½ hour appointment, along with the personal nature of things that came out are too much for this blog, but suffice it to say I left there feeling a huge weight lifted off of me, and a much more optimistic outlook regarding multiple areas of my life.
Since this process my energy and motivation to train has improved drastically. I found myself out on the bike for an hour yesterday, followed by an hour run – neither of which brought on pessimism or doubt. I was even looking forward to these two workouts and began a new mantra getting up the hills on the bike: “Hurts less than a DNF.” And this is true. No matter how much discomfort and fatigue I feel while training (or during the IM), the physical aspect of what my body is put through could not be nearly as painful as a DNF (of course, there are circumstances in which a DNF is the only option, but in my case a DNF due to lack of training and confidence has been my biggest concern.)
It’s funny but, it’s almost as if my mindset has done a complete 180, and that I’ve finally woken up to the fact that this can be a fun process, and that the outcome of gaining a personal achievement is what it’s really all about for me. I’ve had to do some soul searching to come to this conclusion as I haven’t been 100% certain as to why I actually wanted to complete an Ironman. With the help of a triathlon friend who reached out to me, and whom I met with earlier this week, I began to ask myself some tough questions and continued to toy with the idea of pulling out all together. The following day, however, I felt much better about things and decided to move forward – even going so far as to signing up for 2 Century rides and a 2.4 mile swim as a part of my training plan.
This change in mood has made the training feel a lot less “heavy,” too - if that makes sense. My rides this week have seemed to go more smoothly, and my runs felt great as well. I don’t find myself questioning my abilities, cursing the hills, or dreading putting on my cycling gear, running shoes or swim cap. Oddly enough, I’ve found that I have been exhibiting a lot less anger while driving as well. I’ve been much more forgiving and have noticed that the “F bomb,” has decreased in my vocabulary by 87.6% (roughly). All around, I feel much less negative and pessimistic about things – something I haven’t felt in a long time.
Again, the session I had with Kim gave me some insight as to why I’ve been thinking and feeling the way I have for the past few years, even though I tried to hide it behind this mask of happiness and words of, “I’m okay.” Well, I wasn’t okay. I don’t think I’ve been okay for a while. But right here, right now, I can honestly say that I’m in a much better place than I was – and that feels amazing.
Saturday, July 25, 2015
Living and Learning
The bad news is today’s ride did not go as planned. The good news is I think I know why and this is all just a part of my learning process.
I woke up this morning feeling good about the upcoming 78-miler. I had done one 76-mile ride previously, and was ready to test out my new saddle and aero bars on the double-loop of the IMLOU course. I ate my oatmeal, packed plenty of nutrition, and off I went to meet a bunch of folks at the corner of 42 and 1694.
Well, for whatever reason I felt in a bit of a funk from the beginning. 1694 seemed to be more of a bear for me than I remember, and 393 was just, well….torturous. I had counted the hills on this 5 mile stretch previously and came to the conclusion that there were 7. Well, either my math was off or I was delusional because somehow there seemed to be an extra hill thrown in there somewhere. It’s quite possible that I really was delusional at this point.
Hooking a left onto our next road, for which I still don’t know the name, it was nice to get a little bit of a break from the hills as there are none too steep or too close together. Another left and we’re on to Ballard School Road. At this point there were just three of us bringing up the back of the pack as all the speed-meisters went off and left us early on. That was fine by me as my only concern was getting through the ride. At 25 miles in I remember thinking to myself, “Alright, we’re a third of the way finished.” I was still feeling decent physically at this point, although that was about to change.
I had been taking in Infinit throughout the course, but the bottle containing my Napalm had malfunctioned so I wasn’t able to take in any other type of nutrition. I told Jon B. at one point that I would need to stop at the store in Sligo, which he was more than happy to oblige. By the time we got to the store, however, I had already begun having thoughts of finishing out the day’s ride after just one loop. I had completed my first run since Muncie the day before, a hot 6-miler, and afterwards completed another 60 minutes worth of swimming. At some point it dawned on me that although I had replenished my fluids on the run, I hadn’t drank much afterwards or throughout the evening. Not only this, but since this was my first run in nearly two weeks, my quads were hella-sore and every hill felt like a mountain.
After taking in a few Clif Bloks at our stop, as well as a half-can of Coke, I had already decided that the chances of me calling it a day were more than decent. I told a few of my cycle-mates this so they would know my plans and not be looking for me on the course. Off we went up 42 once again for the remaining 13 miles (of my ride at least).
I have to admit that once or twice I did try to renegotiate with myself about the second loop. While on flat ground I would be speeding along (and by speeding, I mean, going 15-16mph) and thinking to myself, “That’s right, I’m a bad ass, I’m doing IRONMAN!” This didn’t last long though because once I reached a hill that thought turned to, “F*ck! I’m doing IRONMAN?! I’m going to die.” After breaking away from Jon (who was, in fact, doing the second loop), I knew I had just three more miles left to go. Three miles that seemed like an eternity. My quads were aching, my mind was starting to mess with me, and I just wanted to be done already!
Luckily, a sign up ahead told me that 1694 was near and I praised the 8 pound, 7 oz. baby Jesus (even though I’m not the least bit religious). Pulling into the parking lot I noted that I completed just at 47 miles in 3:12 with a 14.7 mph average. This average is what baffled me since I had been struggling so hard, or at least felt like I was. My last go-round on this course had me ending with a 14.8 average, so seeing that I went just .1mph slower this time was actually quite nice. Of course, I highly doubt that would have been my average had I completed that second loop. In fact, after I had a moment to collect myself and started pulling away in the car, my vision started to get a little wonky. Not blurry, necessarily, but it felt like I had a hard time adjusting my focus. This is more evidence that stopping after that first loop was the best thing. I now think that I must’ve been working towards dehydration, if I wasn’t already there.
So, lessons learned for today: I definitely need to HYDRATE, HYDRATE, HYDRATE the days leading up to these long rides. Especially in this heat. Even though we started plenty early, that Kentucky sun is very unforgiving once it comes out and starts shining down. Also, no more longish runs the day before a long ride. I don’t know what I was thinking doing my first 6-miler in 2 weeks 14 hour prior to a planned 78-mile bike ride. But…never again. As they say, you live and you learn, and this entire process has definitely been a learning experience for me.
As a side note, because I have been having issues lately with motivation, negativity, doubt, etc. I have decided to try a new type of therapy called cranial sacral therapy which is advertised as, “A gentle, hands-on approach that releases tensions deeply in the body to relieve pain and dysfunction and improve whole-body health and performance.” This includes alleviating stress and negative energy as well. The massages that I get are great, but I need something to help with the psychological part of my system as well. My first appointment is two days from now with a lady that comes highly recommended, so we’ll see. At this point I feel I need a little more umph to help continue propelling me forward. Once again, my perception during today’s ride was that it is “so easy,” for everyone else and they’re all, “having such a great time, laughing, cutting up,” while I’m on the struggle bus. I need to get out of my head and turn these thoughts around.
I woke up this morning feeling good about the upcoming 78-miler. I had done one 76-mile ride previously, and was ready to test out my new saddle and aero bars on the double-loop of the IMLOU course. I ate my oatmeal, packed plenty of nutrition, and off I went to meet a bunch of folks at the corner of 42 and 1694.
Well, for whatever reason I felt in a bit of a funk from the beginning. 1694 seemed to be more of a bear for me than I remember, and 393 was just, well….torturous. I had counted the hills on this 5 mile stretch previously and came to the conclusion that there were 7. Well, either my math was off or I was delusional because somehow there seemed to be an extra hill thrown in there somewhere. It’s quite possible that I really was delusional at this point.
Hooking a left onto our next road, for which I still don’t know the name, it was nice to get a little bit of a break from the hills as there are none too steep or too close together. Another left and we’re on to Ballard School Road. At this point there were just three of us bringing up the back of the pack as all the speed-meisters went off and left us early on. That was fine by me as my only concern was getting through the ride. At 25 miles in I remember thinking to myself, “Alright, we’re a third of the way finished.” I was still feeling decent physically at this point, although that was about to change.
I had been taking in Infinit throughout the course, but the bottle containing my Napalm had malfunctioned so I wasn’t able to take in any other type of nutrition. I told Jon B. at one point that I would need to stop at the store in Sligo, which he was more than happy to oblige. By the time we got to the store, however, I had already begun having thoughts of finishing out the day’s ride after just one loop. I had completed my first run since Muncie the day before, a hot 6-miler, and afterwards completed another 60 minutes worth of swimming. At some point it dawned on me that although I had replenished my fluids on the run, I hadn’t drank much afterwards or throughout the evening. Not only this, but since this was my first run in nearly two weeks, my quads were hella-sore and every hill felt like a mountain.
After taking in a few Clif Bloks at our stop, as well as a half-can of Coke, I had already decided that the chances of me calling it a day were more than decent. I told a few of my cycle-mates this so they would know my plans and not be looking for me on the course. Off we went up 42 once again for the remaining 13 miles (of my ride at least).
I have to admit that once or twice I did try to renegotiate with myself about the second loop. While on flat ground I would be speeding along (and by speeding, I mean, going 15-16mph) and thinking to myself, “That’s right, I’m a bad ass, I’m doing IRONMAN!” This didn’t last long though because once I reached a hill that thought turned to, “F*ck! I’m doing IRONMAN?! I’m going to die.” After breaking away from Jon (who was, in fact, doing the second loop), I knew I had just three more miles left to go. Three miles that seemed like an eternity. My quads were aching, my mind was starting to mess with me, and I just wanted to be done already!
Luckily, a sign up ahead told me that 1694 was near and I praised the 8 pound, 7 oz. baby Jesus (even though I’m not the least bit religious). Pulling into the parking lot I noted that I completed just at 47 miles in 3:12 with a 14.7 mph average. This average is what baffled me since I had been struggling so hard, or at least felt like I was. My last go-round on this course had me ending with a 14.8 average, so seeing that I went just .1mph slower this time was actually quite nice. Of course, I highly doubt that would have been my average had I completed that second loop. In fact, after I had a moment to collect myself and started pulling away in the car, my vision started to get a little wonky. Not blurry, necessarily, but it felt like I had a hard time adjusting my focus. This is more evidence that stopping after that first loop was the best thing. I now think that I must’ve been working towards dehydration, if I wasn’t already there.
So, lessons learned for today: I definitely need to HYDRATE, HYDRATE, HYDRATE the days leading up to these long rides. Especially in this heat. Even though we started plenty early, that Kentucky sun is very unforgiving once it comes out and starts shining down. Also, no more longish runs the day before a long ride. I don’t know what I was thinking doing my first 6-miler in 2 weeks 14 hour prior to a planned 78-mile bike ride. But…never again. As they say, you live and you learn, and this entire process has definitely been a learning experience for me.
As a side note, because I have been having issues lately with motivation, negativity, doubt, etc. I have decided to try a new type of therapy called cranial sacral therapy which is advertised as, “A gentle, hands-on approach that releases tensions deeply in the body to relieve pain and dysfunction and improve whole-body health and performance.” This includes alleviating stress and negative energy as well. The massages that I get are great, but I need something to help with the psychological part of my system as well. My first appointment is two days from now with a lady that comes highly recommended, so we’ll see. At this point I feel I need a little more umph to help continue propelling me forward. Once again, my perception during today’s ride was that it is “so easy,” for everyone else and they’re all, “having such a great time, laughing, cutting up,” while I’m on the struggle bus. I need to get out of my head and turn these thoughts around.
Saturday, July 18, 2015
Questioning
Been having a bit of a rough time since my Muncie Half Ironman a week ago, and I can’t exactly pin point what it is. I’ve still been getting most of my workouts in, although motivation continues to be a bit of an issue. I just completed my longest solo ride today – a 38-miler in 2:40, which would have been the full 3 hours that I had anticipated, had it not been for the 105 degree heat index. I was supposed to have started a fifty miler at 7:00 a.m. this morning, but a late-night, much-needed dinner with friends meant a sleep in on this Saturday morning for me, and so I didn’t even get started until 12:00 noon. Lesson learned.
On a more positive note, I completed my longest swim ever yesterday with 3000 yards (1.86 miles). This took approximately 1:25, which is considered slow by most standards, but since I always swim slower in a pool and have consistently swam 2:20 min./ 100m in open water, I’m not concerned. Didn’t feel much fatigue, just some boredom mostly, but breaking it up by 6x500m helped.
So…what is it that I’m questioning you ask? This whole process to be quite honest. Mostly, WHY is it that I’m doing this? Why am I putting in all of this time doing the training, giving up what little social life I do have, ending the day with exhausted muscles, crispy skin, and aching body parts that I didn’t even know where possible to hurt? For the second time during this training process I’m considering throwing in the towel.
I was talking with my girlfriends over dinner last night, one of which is a current triathlete, the other two triathletes in training about to do their first sprint, and I mentioned that I’m having a hard time motivating myself at times to push and get some of the workouts in. This is nothing new if you’ve read past posts of mine, but for some reason Muncie put a lot of things into perspective for me. It’s almost like my love/hate relationship with marathons. Although I’ve completed five, I would say I don’t necessarily enjoy them. And while half-marathons are no walk in the park, I at least feel like I’m having a somewhat decent time and know that it’s going to be over shortly after I climb aboard the struggle bus – if the bus ever even arrives. I’m getting sort of the same feeling about the HIM vs. the Full IM. Muncie was fun up until I had knee issues half-way through the run. I was even smiling on the bike and thinking, “Man, this is the first time in a long time I’ve actually had fun during a race.” At twice the distance, I’m not sure I’m going to be saying the same thing about IMLOU.
Several times this past week I’ve found myself questioning whether or not I am going to continue the training and actually toe the line in October. Yet, several times this past week I found myself either in the pool, on the bike, or lacing up the running shoes. A big part of the discussion last night centered around my fear of failure. I have such a big fear that I’m not going to be able to pull it off. I told the girls that, physically, I know that I can do it – I just don’t know that I can do it in the time allotted. Mentally…. well, I’m actually a whole lot more concerned about the mental aspect of things than the physical to be quite honest.
I’ve never really FAILED at anything that mattered in my life. Even my former marriage doesn’t feel like a failure, as I’m able to look back at it as two young kids in love who tied the knot way too young and figured it out a little too late. I was scared to go out on my own in the private practice because I wasn’t sure I could make it financially yet, here I am 3+ years later doing very well for myself and only regretting that I didn’t do it sooner. So why such questioning and lack of confidence this time around? I did my first sprint in 2009, first Olympic in 2010 and now my first HIM in 2015. Isn’t the natural progression of things to do an Ironman? If I don’t do it in three months, when I’ve already paid my dues, put in the work, and am probably in the best shape of my life, when AM I going to do it? If I put it off until next year I’ll just have to start from square one again. Not to mention the registration fees – sheesh!
So, I guess I found my answer. I will do it because I can. I will do it because that feeling I had crossing the finish line in Muncie is probably only a fraction of what I will feel in October. I will do it because a DNF is not the worst thing in the world that could ever happen to me. I will do it because I know that, come race day, I won’t even be able to go downtown, log onto Facebook, or check race updates for those who are racing that day if I pull out now – it would just be too painful. I will do it because, just like a few months ago, I know this feeling will pass again and I will somehow muster up the motivation and confidence to keep on training to prepare myself for that infamous day: October 11th.
On a more positive note, I completed my longest swim ever yesterday with 3000 yards (1.86 miles). This took approximately 1:25, which is considered slow by most standards, but since I always swim slower in a pool and have consistently swam 2:20 min./ 100m in open water, I’m not concerned. Didn’t feel much fatigue, just some boredom mostly, but breaking it up by 6x500m helped.
So…what is it that I’m questioning you ask? This whole process to be quite honest. Mostly, WHY is it that I’m doing this? Why am I putting in all of this time doing the training, giving up what little social life I do have, ending the day with exhausted muscles, crispy skin, and aching body parts that I didn’t even know where possible to hurt? For the second time during this training process I’m considering throwing in the towel.
I was talking with my girlfriends over dinner last night, one of which is a current triathlete, the other two triathletes in training about to do their first sprint, and I mentioned that I’m having a hard time motivating myself at times to push and get some of the workouts in. This is nothing new if you’ve read past posts of mine, but for some reason Muncie put a lot of things into perspective for me. It’s almost like my love/hate relationship with marathons. Although I’ve completed five, I would say I don’t necessarily enjoy them. And while half-marathons are no walk in the park, I at least feel like I’m having a somewhat decent time and know that it’s going to be over shortly after I climb aboard the struggle bus – if the bus ever even arrives. I’m getting sort of the same feeling about the HIM vs. the Full IM. Muncie was fun up until I had knee issues half-way through the run. I was even smiling on the bike and thinking, “Man, this is the first time in a long time I’ve actually had fun during a race.” At twice the distance, I’m not sure I’m going to be saying the same thing about IMLOU.
Several times this past week I’ve found myself questioning whether or not I am going to continue the training and actually toe the line in October. Yet, several times this past week I found myself either in the pool, on the bike, or lacing up the running shoes. A big part of the discussion last night centered around my fear of failure. I have such a big fear that I’m not going to be able to pull it off. I told the girls that, physically, I know that I can do it – I just don’t know that I can do it in the time allotted. Mentally…. well, I’m actually a whole lot more concerned about the mental aspect of things than the physical to be quite honest.
I’ve never really FAILED at anything that mattered in my life. Even my former marriage doesn’t feel like a failure, as I’m able to look back at it as two young kids in love who tied the knot way too young and figured it out a little too late. I was scared to go out on my own in the private practice because I wasn’t sure I could make it financially yet, here I am 3+ years later doing very well for myself and only regretting that I didn’t do it sooner. So why such questioning and lack of confidence this time around? I did my first sprint in 2009, first Olympic in 2010 and now my first HIM in 2015. Isn’t the natural progression of things to do an Ironman? If I don’t do it in three months, when I’ve already paid my dues, put in the work, and am probably in the best shape of my life, when AM I going to do it? If I put it off until next year I’ll just have to start from square one again. Not to mention the registration fees – sheesh!
So, I guess I found my answer. I will do it because I can. I will do it because that feeling I had crossing the finish line in Muncie is probably only a fraction of what I will feel in October. I will do it because a DNF is not the worst thing in the world that could ever happen to me. I will do it because I know that, come race day, I won’t even be able to go downtown, log onto Facebook, or check race updates for those who are racing that day if I pull out now – it would just be too painful. I will do it because, just like a few months ago, I know this feeling will pass again and I will somehow muster up the motivation and confidence to keep on training to prepare myself for that infamous day: October 11th.
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Muncie 70.3
Anxious but confident. That’s what I told people who asked how I was feeling about my first Half Ironman at Muncie yesterday. I knew I had put in the training to pull it off, but having never put all of those distances together in one day had me a little overwhelmed.
I got into Muncie at about 1:30 Friday afternoon after driving in the rain from Louisville. After a quick check into the hotel, I asked my phone navigator to take me to the Prairie Creek Reservoir so that I could register for the race and check in my bike. Note to the City of Muncie: Please update your Google maps so that your system doesn’t take people to some back country road and inform the driver that they have “Arrived at your destination,” only to be met with a view full of woods. Not cool.
After getting all checked in I drove back to the hotel to get a little relaxation time in before meeting some of my Landshark friends for dinner at 6:00. While going through my things I realized that I was missing my packet – which contained both my swim cap and Bib. Panic sets in. I quickly discover, however, that I must have left it at bike check-in where some volunteers had helped me place my stickers on my bike. Luckily, Reggie G. was manning the Rudy Project tent at the expo and I was able to have him get it for me who, in turn gave it to Sonja who, in turn brought it to me at dinner that evening. Disaster avoided.
After swapping some stories and getting my grub on during dinner that evening, I made my way back to the hotel to try and get some sleep before the early morning. I was in bed with the lights out by 9:15, and considering how big of a deal this race was for me I actually got some pretty decent sleep with the exception of waking up a time or two – the last of which came at 3:15 a.m. Since the alarm was set for 4:15 and I was already so nervous about the race, I just lay in bed until it was time to get up.
A quick change into my tri suit, a grab of my gear and the morning’s oatmeal and I was headed out the door at 4:50 a.m. As I pulled up close to the Reservoir I could see a long line of headlights coming from all directions. I guess a lot of us had the same idea to get to the start early to set up and prepare for the race. Good thing too, as they were already directing traffic to park in an area about 1/2 mile from the transition area by the time I arrived.
I met up with Allison B. on the walk over and we talked about how nervous we were, her anxiety dreams, whether or not we were wearing a wetsuit, and a slew of other topics. Before long we found ourselves in transition setting up our area. I was #1271. After setting everything up I looked down to see what time it was: 6:00 a.m. I still had an hour and thirty-two minutes before my swim wave would be going off. A LOOOONG hour and thirty-two minutes. Plenty of time to get anxious – or, at least, more anxious than what I already was. I killed time by taking another potty break, walking around a bit, then meeting up with some folks near the swim start to shoot the breeze. At some point we were told that the start had been delayed by 15 minutes due to traffic. “Great,” I thought, “even more time to get the nerves going.” I was already waiting around in my wetsuit and my legs were going a mile-a-minute as I sat near the picnic tables.
Before long me and a few other “pink capped,” ladies decided to make our way down to the swim start as our wave would be going off in about 15 minutes. You would have thought I was making my way to the torture chamber by my reaction. This is when the panic really set in and I began to tear up. I prayed no one would ask me if I was okay, hence releasing the water works that would soon follow. Nonetheless, they called my wave down to the shoreline and I stood thigh-deep in water preparing to go off. Despite having the open-water swim at Freeman Lake a few months ago (1.3 miles), I still had reservations about whether or not I could do this.
As the gun went off and I made my way into the warmer-than-expected water, it took me longer than usual to get into a good groove. I was definitely one of the back of the pack swimmers, something I planned on since I’m not strong or fast in this area, yet I still seemed to be getting passed by pink swim caps for quite a ways. At one point I got a little panicked and I thought for a second, “I can’t do this. I’m going to have to bail out.” Luckily that second passed and I told myself that there was no way I was going to DNF within the first 300 meters of the swim. So, I swam on and before too long I was being passed by all sorts of colored swim caps, indicating that the next wave had gone off. Along with the next, and the next. This meant more and more swimmers knocking into me, darn-near running over me, and coming really close to kicking me in various areas of my body. I tried to stay as far away from others as I could without veering off course, all the while being aware of the location of the buoys. Luckily these other swimmers seemed to come in waves, and I would only have to cope with them for a bit before getting some calm waters to myself. This allowed me to get into a bit of a groove, and I decided to breathe to my left every second stroke rather than third – something that I found helped keep the panic down.
The water was a little choppy due to so many swimmers, and I was super aware of this as I turned my head to breathe in – not wanting a repeat of my choking experience from Freeman Lake. Somehow I managed to get past the first turn, and then the second before heading back to shore. Unfortunately the sun was shining from this direction so it was hard to navigate. Mostly I just paid attention to the swim caps I saw ahead of me. At one point I recall wondering how long I had been in the water and had to resist the urge to check my watch. “What difference does it make?” I argued with myself. It’s not like anything I was going to do at this point was going to change it. I was in the home stretch, in a groove, and making my way to shore. I must say, however, that it was a little disconcerting to see another pink swim cap next to me doing a simpler version of the breast stroke (head out of water, swim goggles on forehead) going along faster than me. "You’re not racing anyone except yourself, Connie."
Soon I was out of the water and checking the Garmin: 53 minutes. I was being extra-cautious when I set my goal as sub one-hour, so 53 minutes was awesome in my book. I sat on the ground to get my wetsuit stripped off, walked quickly to transition, donned my bike gear and out the gate I went. I was still feeling confident at this point, and was even more so when I hopped on the bike and made my way down the road. I had even gotten a, “Go Connie,” from Reggie on the sidelines before I took off.
A 56 mile bike ride tends to be a bit of a blur since there’s really nothing to do but ride, be aware of other cyclists, and think. Another triathlete posted that riding that long without talking to someone takes some getting used to. I would have to agree. I made my way to the turnaround point and remember thinking, “Flat? This isn’t exactly a flat ride. Flat compared to Louisville, yes. Rolling hills, no. But not flat.” I had to remember to reel in my negativity and just enjoy the day. As I made my way past that first turn-around point I quickly realized that those small inclines on the way out made for a much faster bike on the way back in, and was happy to see my speed had gone up significantly. Okay, I can handle this. I had already seen many Landsharks along the course, and had been given numerous accolades and encouragements throughout.
Rounding that second turn-around in preparation for the second loop I noticed I was on time to do a sub 3:30 bike segment – just what I planned for! Once again, I made my way back out with a little bit more to think about this time: chaffing. Oh yes, my old friend was back. Only this time I was able to quickly determine that the culprit had to be my tri shorts as this wasn’t a problem with my bib shorts on my prior rides these past few weeks. Luckily on one of my last rides Jennifer S. had given me some sample packets of anti-chaffing lotion to put in my bag, so I was able to ripe one open and commence to “spreading the love,” so to speak at the last turn-around point.
I made my way back towards the finish, breaking the mileage up little by little this time. Just past the last turn-around is the 40-mile marker. At the pace I was going, this meant I would be off the bike in about an hour or so. My back and shoulders had started to ache a little, and my nether regions were starting to get a bit sore, so that last hour couldn’t come quickly enough. As I stated prior though, this portion had a little bit of a descent to it, which made things a little easier – both mentally and physically.
Coming up on the 50-mile marker I started counting it down. You know that feeling you get when you just want something to BE DONE ALREADY?! Yeah, that’s where I was. Now, don’t get me wrong – I was having a good time and my pace was excellent, but 3+ hours on a bike can really get to a girl after a while and I welcomed the next leg of the race with open arms. And when I say open arms, I mean I literally had to have my arms open when I hopped off the bike because somewhere along the way more chafing had occurred. This time on the underside of my arms and, I gotta tell ya, it was putting a hurt on this ol’ body.
As I wheeled the bike into transition (3:24) I quickly found my Body Glide and started smearing away at my poor triceps. Unfortunately, the damage had been done so this effort was the equivalent of putting some Neosporin on an amputated limb. Nonetheless, I switched into my running gear and took off with the Body Glide tucked neatly into my fizz tank’s back pocket in case I needed to reapply somewhere down the road. For the first mile I was walking like a body builder who had done too many reps at the gym – you know, those beefcake guys whose arms are so big that they can’t hold them down to their sides? Coupled with my sweaty body and grimaced face I’m positive I was owning that half-marathon in terms of physical appearance.
I had good intentions of doing my 3:1 intervals during the run portion, but my body quickly put the smack down on that idea. I thought I had only consumed water, Infinit and some Clif Bloks at this point, but apparently someone had snuck in some professional-grade sand because my body felt weak and heavy . The mid-day sun beating down didn’t help either, although luckily it wasn’t unbearably hot or even humid. I tried doing a 1:1 interval instead, but that didn’t seem to take either. I tried not to let the fact that I had 12 more miles (12 MILES!!) to go get to me, so I decided to run what I could but not push myself either. The next five miles consisted mostly of walking, but I was keeping a pretty good pace of about sub 15 minute miles, so I was happy with my progress. Unfortunately 5.8 miles into the run I got this sharp pain in the bend of my right knee that perked me up a bit. And when I say perked me up, I mean deflated my motivation to the point of tears. Yes…. We have arrived at the portion of the story known as Connie’s Meltdown.
With half the run still left to go I rounded the turn-around to cheers and encouragement from volunteers who saw my tears and gave me props to muddle on. I trudge along not trying to hide the fact that I was having a tough time, and many people passed me by asking if I was okay. Nodding my head yes at most, there was one point when I had to be honest with myself and say, “No, I’m not okay.” My knee kept doing its thing, yet there was no rhyme or reason as to when this pain would occur. It didn’t seem to be anything I was, or wasn’t doing, that made it feel better or worse. At 6.5 miles in I stopped once again to bend over and massage the area when the person who will from this point be known as my Guardian Angel walked up next to me.
My Guardian Angel came in the form of a 55+ year old, white haired woman with a IM tattoo on her left bicep. A few moments after I met this person I found myself on the ground, succumbing to the fact that I couldn’t go on and was going to have to DNF. The thought of a DNF was more painful than anything my knee was feeling at the time, and my sobs turned into full-blown wails. She asked if I would like for her to flag down a medic at the next aid station to pick me up and take me to the finish. I told her I would. Over the course of the next mile this person took my arm, helped me along, and began a conversation that took my mind off the pain. She had completed four half IM’s and one full. I told her this was my first HIM and that I had a lot of people expecting me to finish and rooting for me at home. She told me that if I didn’t want to DNF she understood, but that she wouldn’t want to see me hurt myself and not be able to complete IMLOU.
Somehow during our walk my knee actually started to feel better, and I told her that I didn’t want her to feel obligated to walk with me and that I thought I could complete the last 5 miles. We did the math and figured out that I had 2 hours to walk the remaining 5 miles. Even in my state, I felt that I could do it. She gave me a high-five, told me that she hoped to see me at the finish line, but understood if she didn’t and that she’d be looking for me in Louisville.
The next five miles I focused solely on getting to the next landmark. The next minute. The next mile. My feet were beginning to hurt from doing so much walking and my entire body ached. In between aid stations I was parched for something to drink, but taking in water and Gatorade only seemed to make me feel bloated. I began to have thoughts of pulling out of IMLOU. I began to think about selling the two IM shirts I had just bought the day before and how I would advertise them as, “Size Large but fits like a Medium.” I began to think about my Destin vacation planned for October 13th and how I would have extra money now that I would be canceling my two nights at the Galt House. I began to wonder if I would get my knee looked at and they would tell me that everything is fine, that I didn’t HAVE to pull out of IMLOU, and how disappointed I would be in that news. It’s amazing the things that go through your mind when you’ve got nothing but 4 miles of thinking to do.
With only a mile left I began to wonder if I would make the new 3:30 time limit I had given myself. 3 hours was my original goal, but that had quickly dissipated once the half-marathon started. Words of encouragement continued to ring out by volunteers and passers-by even as the aid stations began to buckle down in anticipation of ending their day. I made my way up that one last hill and was told all I had remaining was a left hand turn and up the gravel road to the finish. Since I was unfamiliar with the course I didn’t realize that the left hand turn would take me straight into the finishers chute, and I couldn’t have been more happy to see the finishing line at that point. I looked ahead to my right and saw the Landsharks tent, as well as some Landsharks themselves making their way to the side of the chute to cheer me on to the end. Clapping, yelling, high-fives and “good job’s,” were heard from every direction. Straight ahead I saw the actual finish line and clock, and even further beyond that I saw her…. My Guardian Angel once again. She had waited at the finish after her own race was over to see if I would make it. As I crossed the line, I put the medal over my head, took a water that was handed to me, and gave this woman the biggest hug I could muster. I broke out in tears and sobbed across her shoulder, “Thank you so much!”
I am not a religious person, but I do believe that everything happens for a reason. This thought process has helped me cope with numerous things in my life, and I’ve found comfort in this statement many times when things didn’t go the way I expected. In regards to my meltdown, I believe there is a reason that this particular person was walking by at that particular time. I believe there was a reason that a medic wasn’t available right then and there. Had there been, I would have gotten into their truck and had them carry me away – with a DNF forever etched into my heart.
This race was, by far, the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Despite my training, this issue with my knee just goes to show that we can’t always predict what’s going to happen on race day. Up until that point I was having a good race. I was still feeling confident having reached my goals on the swim and on the bike, and was prepared to walk the half-marathon if I had to, as long as I finished.
I couldn’t imagine completing this race without the encouragement and support of all of the Landsharks I saw out on the course. No matter if I knew their names or not, every single one of them gave me either a high-five, a “good job,” or some other show of support. For that I am ever thankful.
Closing thoughts:
I no longer have a secret hope that there is something wrong with my knee. In fact, I’m really hoping that it’s a minor issue and I can get back to training in order to complete IMLOU.
This was the first time I ran in my fizz tank. Those things give no boob support whatsoever. I will be doubling up on a sports bra next time.
No more tri shorts on rides more than 25 miles. This chaffing is ridiculous!
Despite my new saddle and aero bars, I’m still having issues with booty soreness and neck/shoulder tightness. This is so frustrating!!!!
The winning quote of the day goes to Reggie.
Reggie: “Is this the hardest thing you’ve ever done?”
Me: Nodding yes through my snotty nose and tears
Reggie: “No it’s not! Dating is the hardest thing you’ve ever done!! Let’s be honest. “
Thanks for putting it into perspective, Reggie!
I got into Muncie at about 1:30 Friday afternoon after driving in the rain from Louisville. After a quick check into the hotel, I asked my phone navigator to take me to the Prairie Creek Reservoir so that I could register for the race and check in my bike. Note to the City of Muncie: Please update your Google maps so that your system doesn’t take people to some back country road and inform the driver that they have “Arrived at your destination,” only to be met with a view full of woods. Not cool.
After getting all checked in I drove back to the hotel to get a little relaxation time in before meeting some of my Landshark friends for dinner at 6:00. While going through my things I realized that I was missing my packet – which contained both my swim cap and Bib. Panic sets in. I quickly discover, however, that I must have left it at bike check-in where some volunteers had helped me place my stickers on my bike. Luckily, Reggie G. was manning the Rudy Project tent at the expo and I was able to have him get it for me who, in turn gave it to Sonja who, in turn brought it to me at dinner that evening. Disaster avoided.
After swapping some stories and getting my grub on during dinner that evening, I made my way back to the hotel to try and get some sleep before the early morning. I was in bed with the lights out by 9:15, and considering how big of a deal this race was for me I actually got some pretty decent sleep with the exception of waking up a time or two – the last of which came at 3:15 a.m. Since the alarm was set for 4:15 and I was already so nervous about the race, I just lay in bed until it was time to get up.
A quick change into my tri suit, a grab of my gear and the morning’s oatmeal and I was headed out the door at 4:50 a.m. As I pulled up close to the Reservoir I could see a long line of headlights coming from all directions. I guess a lot of us had the same idea to get to the start early to set up and prepare for the race. Good thing too, as they were already directing traffic to park in an area about 1/2 mile from the transition area by the time I arrived.
I met up with Allison B. on the walk over and we talked about how nervous we were, her anxiety dreams, whether or not we were wearing a wetsuit, and a slew of other topics. Before long we found ourselves in transition setting up our area. I was #1271. After setting everything up I looked down to see what time it was: 6:00 a.m. I still had an hour and thirty-two minutes before my swim wave would be going off. A LOOOONG hour and thirty-two minutes. Plenty of time to get anxious – or, at least, more anxious than what I already was. I killed time by taking another potty break, walking around a bit, then meeting up with some folks near the swim start to shoot the breeze. At some point we were told that the start had been delayed by 15 minutes due to traffic. “Great,” I thought, “even more time to get the nerves going.” I was already waiting around in my wetsuit and my legs were going a mile-a-minute as I sat near the picnic tables.
Before long me and a few other “pink capped,” ladies decided to make our way down to the swim start as our wave would be going off in about 15 minutes. You would have thought I was making my way to the torture chamber by my reaction. This is when the panic really set in and I began to tear up. I prayed no one would ask me if I was okay, hence releasing the water works that would soon follow. Nonetheless, they called my wave down to the shoreline and I stood thigh-deep in water preparing to go off. Despite having the open-water swim at Freeman Lake a few months ago (1.3 miles), I still had reservations about whether or not I could do this.
As the gun went off and I made my way into the warmer-than-expected water, it took me longer than usual to get into a good groove. I was definitely one of the back of the pack swimmers, something I planned on since I’m not strong or fast in this area, yet I still seemed to be getting passed by pink swim caps for quite a ways. At one point I got a little panicked and I thought for a second, “I can’t do this. I’m going to have to bail out.” Luckily that second passed and I told myself that there was no way I was going to DNF within the first 300 meters of the swim. So, I swam on and before too long I was being passed by all sorts of colored swim caps, indicating that the next wave had gone off. Along with the next, and the next. This meant more and more swimmers knocking into me, darn-near running over me, and coming really close to kicking me in various areas of my body. I tried to stay as far away from others as I could without veering off course, all the while being aware of the location of the buoys. Luckily these other swimmers seemed to come in waves, and I would only have to cope with them for a bit before getting some calm waters to myself. This allowed me to get into a bit of a groove, and I decided to breathe to my left every second stroke rather than third – something that I found helped keep the panic down.
The water was a little choppy due to so many swimmers, and I was super aware of this as I turned my head to breathe in – not wanting a repeat of my choking experience from Freeman Lake. Somehow I managed to get past the first turn, and then the second before heading back to shore. Unfortunately the sun was shining from this direction so it was hard to navigate. Mostly I just paid attention to the swim caps I saw ahead of me. At one point I recall wondering how long I had been in the water and had to resist the urge to check my watch. “What difference does it make?” I argued with myself. It’s not like anything I was going to do at this point was going to change it. I was in the home stretch, in a groove, and making my way to shore. I must say, however, that it was a little disconcerting to see another pink swim cap next to me doing a simpler version of the breast stroke (head out of water, swim goggles on forehead) going along faster than me. "You’re not racing anyone except yourself, Connie."
Soon I was out of the water and checking the Garmin: 53 minutes. I was being extra-cautious when I set my goal as sub one-hour, so 53 minutes was awesome in my book. I sat on the ground to get my wetsuit stripped off, walked quickly to transition, donned my bike gear and out the gate I went. I was still feeling confident at this point, and was even more so when I hopped on the bike and made my way down the road. I had even gotten a, “Go Connie,” from Reggie on the sidelines before I took off.
A 56 mile bike ride tends to be a bit of a blur since there’s really nothing to do but ride, be aware of other cyclists, and think. Another triathlete posted that riding that long without talking to someone takes some getting used to. I would have to agree. I made my way to the turnaround point and remember thinking, “Flat? This isn’t exactly a flat ride. Flat compared to Louisville, yes. Rolling hills, no. But not flat.” I had to remember to reel in my negativity and just enjoy the day. As I made my way past that first turn-around point I quickly realized that those small inclines on the way out made for a much faster bike on the way back in, and was happy to see my speed had gone up significantly. Okay, I can handle this. I had already seen many Landsharks along the course, and had been given numerous accolades and encouragements throughout.
Rounding that second turn-around in preparation for the second loop I noticed I was on time to do a sub 3:30 bike segment – just what I planned for! Once again, I made my way back out with a little bit more to think about this time: chaffing. Oh yes, my old friend was back. Only this time I was able to quickly determine that the culprit had to be my tri shorts as this wasn’t a problem with my bib shorts on my prior rides these past few weeks. Luckily on one of my last rides Jennifer S. had given me some sample packets of anti-chaffing lotion to put in my bag, so I was able to ripe one open and commence to “spreading the love,” so to speak at the last turn-around point.
I made my way back towards the finish, breaking the mileage up little by little this time. Just past the last turn-around is the 40-mile marker. At the pace I was going, this meant I would be off the bike in about an hour or so. My back and shoulders had started to ache a little, and my nether regions were starting to get a bit sore, so that last hour couldn’t come quickly enough. As I stated prior though, this portion had a little bit of a descent to it, which made things a little easier – both mentally and physically.
Coming up on the 50-mile marker I started counting it down. You know that feeling you get when you just want something to BE DONE ALREADY?! Yeah, that’s where I was. Now, don’t get me wrong – I was having a good time and my pace was excellent, but 3+ hours on a bike can really get to a girl after a while and I welcomed the next leg of the race with open arms. And when I say open arms, I mean I literally had to have my arms open when I hopped off the bike because somewhere along the way more chafing had occurred. This time on the underside of my arms and, I gotta tell ya, it was putting a hurt on this ol’ body.
As I wheeled the bike into transition (3:24) I quickly found my Body Glide and started smearing away at my poor triceps. Unfortunately, the damage had been done so this effort was the equivalent of putting some Neosporin on an amputated limb. Nonetheless, I switched into my running gear and took off with the Body Glide tucked neatly into my fizz tank’s back pocket in case I needed to reapply somewhere down the road. For the first mile I was walking like a body builder who had done too many reps at the gym – you know, those beefcake guys whose arms are so big that they can’t hold them down to their sides? Coupled with my sweaty body and grimaced face I’m positive I was owning that half-marathon in terms of physical appearance.
I had good intentions of doing my 3:1 intervals during the run portion, but my body quickly put the smack down on that idea. I thought I had only consumed water, Infinit and some Clif Bloks at this point, but apparently someone had snuck in some professional-grade sand because my body felt weak and heavy . The mid-day sun beating down didn’t help either, although luckily it wasn’t unbearably hot or even humid. I tried doing a 1:1 interval instead, but that didn’t seem to take either. I tried not to let the fact that I had 12 more miles (12 MILES!!) to go get to me, so I decided to run what I could but not push myself either. The next five miles consisted mostly of walking, but I was keeping a pretty good pace of about sub 15 minute miles, so I was happy with my progress. Unfortunately 5.8 miles into the run I got this sharp pain in the bend of my right knee that perked me up a bit. And when I say perked me up, I mean deflated my motivation to the point of tears. Yes…. We have arrived at the portion of the story known as Connie’s Meltdown.
With half the run still left to go I rounded the turn-around to cheers and encouragement from volunteers who saw my tears and gave me props to muddle on. I trudge along not trying to hide the fact that I was having a tough time, and many people passed me by asking if I was okay. Nodding my head yes at most, there was one point when I had to be honest with myself and say, “No, I’m not okay.” My knee kept doing its thing, yet there was no rhyme or reason as to when this pain would occur. It didn’t seem to be anything I was, or wasn’t doing, that made it feel better or worse. At 6.5 miles in I stopped once again to bend over and massage the area when the person who will from this point be known as my Guardian Angel walked up next to me.
My Guardian Angel came in the form of a 55+ year old, white haired woman with a IM tattoo on her left bicep. A few moments after I met this person I found myself on the ground, succumbing to the fact that I couldn’t go on and was going to have to DNF. The thought of a DNF was more painful than anything my knee was feeling at the time, and my sobs turned into full-blown wails. She asked if I would like for her to flag down a medic at the next aid station to pick me up and take me to the finish. I told her I would. Over the course of the next mile this person took my arm, helped me along, and began a conversation that took my mind off the pain. She had completed four half IM’s and one full. I told her this was my first HIM and that I had a lot of people expecting me to finish and rooting for me at home. She told me that if I didn’t want to DNF she understood, but that she wouldn’t want to see me hurt myself and not be able to complete IMLOU.
Somehow during our walk my knee actually started to feel better, and I told her that I didn’t want her to feel obligated to walk with me and that I thought I could complete the last 5 miles. We did the math and figured out that I had 2 hours to walk the remaining 5 miles. Even in my state, I felt that I could do it. She gave me a high-five, told me that she hoped to see me at the finish line, but understood if she didn’t and that she’d be looking for me in Louisville.
The next five miles I focused solely on getting to the next landmark. The next minute. The next mile. My feet were beginning to hurt from doing so much walking and my entire body ached. In between aid stations I was parched for something to drink, but taking in water and Gatorade only seemed to make me feel bloated. I began to have thoughts of pulling out of IMLOU. I began to think about selling the two IM shirts I had just bought the day before and how I would advertise them as, “Size Large but fits like a Medium.” I began to think about my Destin vacation planned for October 13th and how I would have extra money now that I would be canceling my two nights at the Galt House. I began to wonder if I would get my knee looked at and they would tell me that everything is fine, that I didn’t HAVE to pull out of IMLOU, and how disappointed I would be in that news. It’s amazing the things that go through your mind when you’ve got nothing but 4 miles of thinking to do.
With only a mile left I began to wonder if I would make the new 3:30 time limit I had given myself. 3 hours was my original goal, but that had quickly dissipated once the half-marathon started. Words of encouragement continued to ring out by volunteers and passers-by even as the aid stations began to buckle down in anticipation of ending their day. I made my way up that one last hill and was told all I had remaining was a left hand turn and up the gravel road to the finish. Since I was unfamiliar with the course I didn’t realize that the left hand turn would take me straight into the finishers chute, and I couldn’t have been more happy to see the finishing line at that point. I looked ahead to my right and saw the Landsharks tent, as well as some Landsharks themselves making their way to the side of the chute to cheer me on to the end. Clapping, yelling, high-fives and “good job’s,” were heard from every direction. Straight ahead I saw the actual finish line and clock, and even further beyond that I saw her…. My Guardian Angel once again. She had waited at the finish after her own race was over to see if I would make it. As I crossed the line, I put the medal over my head, took a water that was handed to me, and gave this woman the biggest hug I could muster. I broke out in tears and sobbed across her shoulder, “Thank you so much!”
I am not a religious person, but I do believe that everything happens for a reason. This thought process has helped me cope with numerous things in my life, and I’ve found comfort in this statement many times when things didn’t go the way I expected. In regards to my meltdown, I believe there is a reason that this particular person was walking by at that particular time. I believe there was a reason that a medic wasn’t available right then and there. Had there been, I would have gotten into their truck and had them carry me away – with a DNF forever etched into my heart.
This race was, by far, the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Despite my training, this issue with my knee just goes to show that we can’t always predict what’s going to happen on race day. Up until that point I was having a good race. I was still feeling confident having reached my goals on the swim and on the bike, and was prepared to walk the half-marathon if I had to, as long as I finished.
I couldn’t imagine completing this race without the encouragement and support of all of the Landsharks I saw out on the course. No matter if I knew their names or not, every single one of them gave me either a high-five, a “good job,” or some other show of support. For that I am ever thankful.
Closing thoughts:
I no longer have a secret hope that there is something wrong with my knee. In fact, I’m really hoping that it’s a minor issue and I can get back to training in order to complete IMLOU.
This was the first time I ran in my fizz tank. Those things give no boob support whatsoever. I will be doubling up on a sports bra next time.
No more tri shorts on rides more than 25 miles. This chaffing is ridiculous!
Despite my new saddle and aero bars, I’m still having issues with booty soreness and neck/shoulder tightness. This is so frustrating!!!!
The winning quote of the day goes to Reggie.
Reggie: “Is this the hardest thing you’ve ever done?”
Me: Nodding yes through my snotty nose and tears
Reggie: “No it’s not! Dating is the hardest thing you’ve ever done!! Let’s be honest. “
Thanks for putting it into perspective, Reggie!
Sunday, June 28, 2015
Another Long Bike
Yesterday ended up being a great day for me. Once again, I was able to get out on the IMLOU course and knock out 76 miles. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t wake up dreading my bike ride, and didn’t have one of those “cop out,” thoughts that usually happens at 5:00 a.m.
A group of us met out at Zorn and River Road to start, and knowing what to expect after last week’s ride, I was feeling a lot more confident mentally, as well as physically. I also had the forethought to keep track of the mileage between each turn so that I would always know just how far I still had to go on the course – these numbers give me a sense of relief long after my mind and body have wigged out on me.
Going down River Road I counted 7 mile to Hwy 42. Up Hwy 42 to 1694 is another 7 miles. 1694 is what it is, so I didn’t count the mileage, I just knew what to expect regarding the hills so, once again, I did the best I could, which always seems to be significantly slower than everyone else. The group waited up for me as I emerged from 1694 and hooked a right back onto 42. Of course, it wasn’t long before I got passed again as we made the three mile trek to 393.
393 was still fresh in my mind from last week, and since the hills were what I remember the most I decided to count those rather than mileage. Seven! There are seven hills on this stretch of road and I came to figure out what it was that bothered me so much about this – there isn’t a lot of time to recover between hills. Unlike 42 which truly is a rolling stretch of road, 393 is significantly more “up and down” with very little flat area.
I made my way to the gas station at the corner and was met by the group who had already had a few moments to rest and refuel. I had very little time to do more than swallow down a GU before we headed off again. This time, going 8 miles before turning onto Ballard School Road. Again, I remember this being a hilly road, although nothing compared to 1694 or 393. I counted hills (3) and mileage (2) so that I would know what to expect the next time around.
Taking the next right meant just a quick 4 miles before I saw Jeff up ahead waiting at the next turn (right). We conversed a bit down this stretch before he assured I was okay to ride alone while he trudged on to meet the rest of the group at our next rendezvous spot. I asked him how far up ahead everyone else was, and was told about 3-4 minutes. Not bad, I thought. I’m not as far behind as I thought I was.
For whatever reason I didn’t take note of the mileage on this road, or the next. I think I was just concentrating on getting to the next rest stop and being able to rest my poor bum. Luckily, I had taken heed of some advice I had received earlier in the week and simultaneously switched to a biking bib while slathering on a substantial amount of Hoo Ha Ride Glide in order to minimize the chafing issues I had been having. Note to Self: These two small changes were an excellent idea.
As I met up with everyone at the next stop, Jeff handed me a 12 oz. Coke to split with him. I was concerned that the carbonation may make me a bit bloated, as I am super sensitive about risking any GI issues. He and another gal (who just happened to be in town from S. Carolina to ride the course, Jan) assured me it wouldn’t and that, instead, would give me a jolt of energy to keep me going. I’m not sure how much it helped, but it certainly didn’t hurt, and with no GI issues to speak of afterwards I’ll have to keep this refreshment in mind for future rides.
As I looked down at the Garmin we were 48 miles into the ride so far. Jeanette asked me how I was feeling and I told her that my legs had “been talking to me,” lately, but overall I felt good. This was her first go-round on the IM course and she shared that she was feeling better than expected as well. After looking at the map on the Garmin upload from last week’s ride, I had concluded that 393 was approximately halfway between where River Road ends and where we re-enter 42 after the loop. This meant that we had approximately 10 miles to 393 followed by an additional 10 to River Road and then 7 miles to Zorn. I knew that if I broke it up that way I’d be in a much better place, mentally, to handle the longest ride of my life so far.
Off we went, once again, and I was bringing up the rear before too long. I heard someone behind me giving signals such as “car back,” and “stopping,” and was surprised that this person hadn’t yet passed me like the rest of the pack. At one point I actually wondered if the group had had a discussion at the gas station about someone staying back with me to make sure I survived from here on out. I had even yelled back at one point, “Are you supposed to make sure I don’t die out here?” The reply: “No, I’m just having fun.” Before long my new bike-mate and I were exchanging pleasantries as well as identities and it turns out that my new friend bears the name of someone I’ve seen on Facebook the past six months – John Bryant. Luckily John is another “slow and steady finishes the race,” kinda guy, so it’s nice to have another person to bike with should I need the company on these long rides (and trust me, I will!)
As the miles clicked by I noticed my shoulders and neck were bothering me more than usual. I had even stopped turning my head to call back to John since I kept feeling a little pull on my left side. I began sitting up on the bike more, steering with my hands on the elbow pads of my aero bars just to get a little bit of a stretch. Later, Jeff and John would both tell me that I probably need to have my aero bars lifted since the bending down that I’m doing is probably too aggressive of an angle. Regardless, the discomfort made for a long 7 miles back to the car once we reached River Road.
Before long John and I were pulling up to the motel on Zorn and I dismounted my bike to get a good stretch. For some reason it takes me a good 5 minutes to get my wits about me after a long bike ride. It’s like I’m fuzzy-headed or something, and can’t think straight for a while. Jeff walked up from the short run he just completed after he got off his own bike, and we all talked for a bit – including my complaints that my booty continues to hurt on these long rides. Once again, apparently I need another adjustment on the bike – a new saddle. I was under the impression that a sore booty just came with the territory, but apparently the amount of hurting that my booty is feeling isn’t “normal.” So… that’ll be another call to the bike shop I’ll be making this coming week, just a few days after my last adjustment to the seat height to help with my knee pain (it helped a lot, by the way).
My 30 minute walk/run was nothing to write home about. I had hit the potty before heading out so as not to run into any fecal emergencies like I had on my last post-bike walk/run. My plan was to do a 5 minute warm up walk and then a 3:1 interval. Well…. As I started to attempt that first run my body wasn’t having it. I was pooped (figuratively this time). My body felt like lead and I could muster little more than a quick shuffle. Still, I got it done and it gives me something to continue to work on over the next 3.5 months.
I will say something real quick here about my workout today: a 2.5 hour run. I woke up this morning thinking there was no way I could get this done without walking the entire thing. My body ached, I was fatigued, and this was all after a good 10 hours of sleep last night. Still… I knew that no matter how I got it done I had to do it. So imagine my surprise when after 2 miles I was feeling fairly decent and moving along at a pretty good clip. I did a 5 minute warm up followed by 3:1 intervals throughout most of the run. I did have to stop for a potty break at about 1 hour and again at 2 hours in, but luckily I didn’t really feel a lot of fatigue until probably that 2 hour mark. It was a beautiful day to run, even considering I got a later start, and I am glad to say that I am feeling more and more confident in what my body can do if I just remove a lot of that doubt from my brain.
Final bike stats: 75.72 miles in 5:07:51 at 14.8 mph average (.4 mph faster than last week).
Final run stats: 12.15 miles in 2:27:18 at 12:08 minute/mile average
Closing thoughts – 1) Confidence is definitely building and I think doing two loops of the IMLOU course needs to be on my agenda. 2) Started Physical Therapy this past week and hoping it can help with some minor issues I’ve been having. Apparently my hips are weak. 3) Gonna start doing some hill work to improve my bike speed – getting great feedback from some folks who are already doing this. 4) Calling the bike shop tomorrow about the aero bars and saddle issues. 5) I CAN do this. I think.
A group of us met out at Zorn and River Road to start, and knowing what to expect after last week’s ride, I was feeling a lot more confident mentally, as well as physically. I also had the forethought to keep track of the mileage between each turn so that I would always know just how far I still had to go on the course – these numbers give me a sense of relief long after my mind and body have wigged out on me.
Going down River Road I counted 7 mile to Hwy 42. Up Hwy 42 to 1694 is another 7 miles. 1694 is what it is, so I didn’t count the mileage, I just knew what to expect regarding the hills so, once again, I did the best I could, which always seems to be significantly slower than everyone else. The group waited up for me as I emerged from 1694 and hooked a right back onto 42. Of course, it wasn’t long before I got passed again as we made the three mile trek to 393.
393 was still fresh in my mind from last week, and since the hills were what I remember the most I decided to count those rather than mileage. Seven! There are seven hills on this stretch of road and I came to figure out what it was that bothered me so much about this – there isn’t a lot of time to recover between hills. Unlike 42 which truly is a rolling stretch of road, 393 is significantly more “up and down” with very little flat area.
I made my way to the gas station at the corner and was met by the group who had already had a few moments to rest and refuel. I had very little time to do more than swallow down a GU before we headed off again. This time, going 8 miles before turning onto Ballard School Road. Again, I remember this being a hilly road, although nothing compared to 1694 or 393. I counted hills (3) and mileage (2) so that I would know what to expect the next time around.
Taking the next right meant just a quick 4 miles before I saw Jeff up ahead waiting at the next turn (right). We conversed a bit down this stretch before he assured I was okay to ride alone while he trudged on to meet the rest of the group at our next rendezvous spot. I asked him how far up ahead everyone else was, and was told about 3-4 minutes. Not bad, I thought. I’m not as far behind as I thought I was.
For whatever reason I didn’t take note of the mileage on this road, or the next. I think I was just concentrating on getting to the next rest stop and being able to rest my poor bum. Luckily, I had taken heed of some advice I had received earlier in the week and simultaneously switched to a biking bib while slathering on a substantial amount of Hoo Ha Ride Glide in order to minimize the chafing issues I had been having. Note to Self: These two small changes were an excellent idea.
As I met up with everyone at the next stop, Jeff handed me a 12 oz. Coke to split with him. I was concerned that the carbonation may make me a bit bloated, as I am super sensitive about risking any GI issues. He and another gal (who just happened to be in town from S. Carolina to ride the course, Jan) assured me it wouldn’t and that, instead, would give me a jolt of energy to keep me going. I’m not sure how much it helped, but it certainly didn’t hurt, and with no GI issues to speak of afterwards I’ll have to keep this refreshment in mind for future rides.
As I looked down at the Garmin we were 48 miles into the ride so far. Jeanette asked me how I was feeling and I told her that my legs had “been talking to me,” lately, but overall I felt good. This was her first go-round on the IM course and she shared that she was feeling better than expected as well. After looking at the map on the Garmin upload from last week’s ride, I had concluded that 393 was approximately halfway between where River Road ends and where we re-enter 42 after the loop. This meant that we had approximately 10 miles to 393 followed by an additional 10 to River Road and then 7 miles to Zorn. I knew that if I broke it up that way I’d be in a much better place, mentally, to handle the longest ride of my life so far.
Off we went, once again, and I was bringing up the rear before too long. I heard someone behind me giving signals such as “car back,” and “stopping,” and was surprised that this person hadn’t yet passed me like the rest of the pack. At one point I actually wondered if the group had had a discussion at the gas station about someone staying back with me to make sure I survived from here on out. I had even yelled back at one point, “Are you supposed to make sure I don’t die out here?” The reply: “No, I’m just having fun.” Before long my new bike-mate and I were exchanging pleasantries as well as identities and it turns out that my new friend bears the name of someone I’ve seen on Facebook the past six months – John Bryant. Luckily John is another “slow and steady finishes the race,” kinda guy, so it’s nice to have another person to bike with should I need the company on these long rides (and trust me, I will!)
As the miles clicked by I noticed my shoulders and neck were bothering me more than usual. I had even stopped turning my head to call back to John since I kept feeling a little pull on my left side. I began sitting up on the bike more, steering with my hands on the elbow pads of my aero bars just to get a little bit of a stretch. Later, Jeff and John would both tell me that I probably need to have my aero bars lifted since the bending down that I’m doing is probably too aggressive of an angle. Regardless, the discomfort made for a long 7 miles back to the car once we reached River Road.
Before long John and I were pulling up to the motel on Zorn and I dismounted my bike to get a good stretch. For some reason it takes me a good 5 minutes to get my wits about me after a long bike ride. It’s like I’m fuzzy-headed or something, and can’t think straight for a while. Jeff walked up from the short run he just completed after he got off his own bike, and we all talked for a bit – including my complaints that my booty continues to hurt on these long rides. Once again, apparently I need another adjustment on the bike – a new saddle. I was under the impression that a sore booty just came with the territory, but apparently the amount of hurting that my booty is feeling isn’t “normal.” So… that’ll be another call to the bike shop I’ll be making this coming week, just a few days after my last adjustment to the seat height to help with my knee pain (it helped a lot, by the way).
My 30 minute walk/run was nothing to write home about. I had hit the potty before heading out so as not to run into any fecal emergencies like I had on my last post-bike walk/run. My plan was to do a 5 minute warm up walk and then a 3:1 interval. Well…. As I started to attempt that first run my body wasn’t having it. I was pooped (figuratively this time). My body felt like lead and I could muster little more than a quick shuffle. Still, I got it done and it gives me something to continue to work on over the next 3.5 months.
I will say something real quick here about my workout today: a 2.5 hour run. I woke up this morning thinking there was no way I could get this done without walking the entire thing. My body ached, I was fatigued, and this was all after a good 10 hours of sleep last night. Still… I knew that no matter how I got it done I had to do it. So imagine my surprise when after 2 miles I was feeling fairly decent and moving along at a pretty good clip. I did a 5 minute warm up followed by 3:1 intervals throughout most of the run. I did have to stop for a potty break at about 1 hour and again at 2 hours in, but luckily I didn’t really feel a lot of fatigue until probably that 2 hour mark. It was a beautiful day to run, even considering I got a later start, and I am glad to say that I am feeling more and more confident in what my body can do if I just remove a lot of that doubt from my brain.
Final bike stats: 75.72 miles in 5:07:51 at 14.8 mph average (.4 mph faster than last week).
Final run stats: 12.15 miles in 2:27:18 at 12:08 minute/mile average
Closing thoughts – 1) Confidence is definitely building and I think doing two loops of the IMLOU course needs to be on my agenda. 2) Started Physical Therapy this past week and hoping it can help with some minor issues I’ve been having. Apparently my hips are weak. 3) Gonna start doing some hill work to improve my bike speed – getting great feedback from some folks who are already doing this. 4) Calling the bike shop tomorrow about the aero bars and saddle issues. 5) I CAN do this. I think.
Sunday, June 21, 2015
Conquering Fears
Well I survived the IMLOU course (or, at least, the parts that count), and now my brain is mush. My 4.5 hour planned ride for yesterday was postponed due to rain, so I did my 2:15 (10 mile) run on the treadmill instead. I considered how this might influence my bike today as my legs were a bit tired and stiff afterwards, but I’ve heard that in order to get stronger you have to sometimes train on fatigued muscles.
It was an early wake-up call of 5:00 a.m. in order for me to get ready, stop by the gas station, then make my way to the Kroger in Prospect to meet up with Nick and Eric. I must admit that, once again, I had that split-second thought when the alarm went off to put this ride off and go out on my own later today on a more familiar, flat course. I was still just completely intimidated at the thought of the IMLOU course, and my lack of confidence nearly got the best of me. But…I told myself that the only way to know what it’s really like is to do it myself, and so I left for the course with a 6:30 a.m. start time in mind.
As we took off up Hwy 42 our first long incline was upon us quite quickly. I had anticipated this one, as I had gone as far as a half mile or so past this point a few times before. Pretty soon we were cruising right along and making small talk in anticipation of 1694 – or as I like to call it, “the dreaded 1694.” I have heard horror stories about two large hills that you have to take twice, as this section is an out-and-back. However, although they were long, slow inclines there wasn’t too much of a grade and when it was all said and done I thought to myself, “Hmm, that wasn’t too bad.”
Off we went again as we made a right down 42 once more, and onto 393. Now…I had also heard that this road had some hills, but I don’t recall anything about just how many. I really shot myself in the foot when, not long after we made that right hand turn I thought, “I LOVE this road.” Of course that was just prior to seeing that first hill. And then another. And another. In all, I believe I counted at least 5 nice sized hills on this road before we finally came up to our first stopping point – a gas station where we could refuel our goods if needed.
At this point Nick, who was always so optimistic and smiling throughout this course, asked how I was doing. I began to tear up and told him that the hills were getting to me. He asked if it was my breathing or legs or what. “All of it,” I told him. He gave me some words of encouragement, but since we were only 25 miles into the course, and I was imagining all the miles and hills left to come, I was starting to dread the rest of the ride. Honestly, the only thing that kept me from turning back at that point was knowing that I would have to conquer 393 once more and that was NOT going to happen.
A left we took down our next road (I think LaGrange Rd, maybe?) and it wasn’t bad at all. A few small rollers here and there and Nick even mentioned that this portion was a bit of a break after 393. A welcome break it was, and my mind started to get a little more right down this stretch. My memory is a little fuzzy, so I can’t recall if it was at this point where we took a right down some nice country roads, or a left on to Ballard School Road. Regardless, Ballard School was another portion I had heard stories about but, all in all, it wasn’t that bad. Maybe because it felt shorter. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t “fun” by any means, but after 1694 and 393 this seemed tame in comparison. Still, it was somewhere around this point that I began to wonder who I could call to come pick me up if I threw in the towel and decided I could do no more hills.
Another left down a quasi-short road and we came upon our second stop – another gas station. At this point I definitely needed some cold liquid as my water bottles had since melted and were lukewarm. Nick also bought a bag of ice and it was refreshing to plop some into my water bottles as well as rub across my arms. I’m not sure the temperature at this point, but we were looking at about 9:30 a.m. and the sun had been shining for a while. I seriously don’t know how people did IMLOU in August. I directed a question towards Nick that I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know the answer to: “How many more roads do we go down that have massive hills?” Imagine my delight when I heard that we had already put the three toughest portions behind us, and all we had to do now was take Hwy 42 back into town. Shew!
Shew, that is, until I realized just how long Hwy 42 was going to be. At one point I saw a sign that said “Louisville 33,” yet knowing that we weren’t riding all the way back into the city limits, I knew we had less mileage than this to go. I was honestly just keeping my eyes peeled for 393 and 1694 again so I could at least know that we were in the home stretch and what to expect. And even though there were no massive hills on the way back, rolling hills are still hills and I still loath them more than most things in life (at least, at that time). There was also a nice headwind that had picked up, which made things tough. To the point that I looked down to read that I was going just 12.8 mph. Well that’s not gonna get me to the end of the course on time come race day, I thought. Still, I pedaled on with Nick’s encouragement and with the end in sight.
At some point a car slowed down beside me and I heard a gal calling my name. Well there was Miss Terri Torres singing her salutations to me, and this did give me a little pick me up. Terri and I did our first Olympic triathlon together in 2010, and she is a multiple Ironman finisher, including Louisville. She is a supportive and awesome chick!
Up ahead I did managed to see the signs for 393, and shortly after 1694. How happy I was to know that we had just a little ways to go. I remember thinking that if I was asked to do that course again there was no way I could. However, what also popped into my mind is that I’ve often said the same thing about running. During a 5k I can’t imagine doing a 10k. During a 10k I can’t imagine a half-marathon. After a half I couldn’t imagine if someone told me, “now go out there and do it again.” Yet, I always manage to finish whatever mileage is thrown at me. I’ve already made a mental note to keep this in mind during these training rides.
A few hills up ahead and we were back to the portion of the route that finally looked familiar to me. One more right turn onto River Road, then a left shortly after to take me back to the car gave me a total of 63 miles in 4:20 with a 14.4mph average. Nick and Eric went straight up River Road to get in a total of 70, but I was mentally and physically toast so I opted out at that point.
Back at the car I racked my bike, donned my running shoes, and strapped on my fuel belt before heading out for a 30 minute transition walk/run. I had started to feel bloated about 50 miles into the ride, so I was fairly certain this walk/run would turn into a mostly walk and I was correct! By this time it was 11:30 and the sun was going to be the hottest it was all day, and with little cloud coverage in the sky to shield me from its rays I knew I wouldn’t be worth much speed-wise. I made it a little ways up River Road before turning onto Mayfair for a 15 minute out-and-back. As per usual, my tummy began talking to me right around the turn-around point and I began looking for a place to pop a squat, knowing there was no way I would make it back to Kroger. Long story short, there is now a log in the side field of someone’s property that bears the essence of Connie. Needless to say, I felt much better afterwards and back to the car I went.
Closing thoughts: 1) Body Glide is a Godsend. 2) I hope people don’t think I’m snobby for not talking during rides. When I’m struggling mentally I find it hard to get into a conversation, and I just want to focus on how to get through the next mile. 3) My left calf isn’t bothering me thus far, but the knee is still giving me fits. 4) My booty hurts. 5) Can I really do this?
It was an early wake-up call of 5:00 a.m. in order for me to get ready, stop by the gas station, then make my way to the Kroger in Prospect to meet up with Nick and Eric. I must admit that, once again, I had that split-second thought when the alarm went off to put this ride off and go out on my own later today on a more familiar, flat course. I was still just completely intimidated at the thought of the IMLOU course, and my lack of confidence nearly got the best of me. But…I told myself that the only way to know what it’s really like is to do it myself, and so I left for the course with a 6:30 a.m. start time in mind.
As we took off up Hwy 42 our first long incline was upon us quite quickly. I had anticipated this one, as I had gone as far as a half mile or so past this point a few times before. Pretty soon we were cruising right along and making small talk in anticipation of 1694 – or as I like to call it, “the dreaded 1694.” I have heard horror stories about two large hills that you have to take twice, as this section is an out-and-back. However, although they were long, slow inclines there wasn’t too much of a grade and when it was all said and done I thought to myself, “Hmm, that wasn’t too bad.”
Off we went again as we made a right down 42 once more, and onto 393. Now…I had also heard that this road had some hills, but I don’t recall anything about just how many. I really shot myself in the foot when, not long after we made that right hand turn I thought, “I LOVE this road.” Of course that was just prior to seeing that first hill. And then another. And another. In all, I believe I counted at least 5 nice sized hills on this road before we finally came up to our first stopping point – a gas station where we could refuel our goods if needed.
At this point Nick, who was always so optimistic and smiling throughout this course, asked how I was doing. I began to tear up and told him that the hills were getting to me. He asked if it was my breathing or legs or what. “All of it,” I told him. He gave me some words of encouragement, but since we were only 25 miles into the course, and I was imagining all the miles and hills left to come, I was starting to dread the rest of the ride. Honestly, the only thing that kept me from turning back at that point was knowing that I would have to conquer 393 once more and that was NOT going to happen.
A left we took down our next road (I think LaGrange Rd, maybe?) and it wasn’t bad at all. A few small rollers here and there and Nick even mentioned that this portion was a bit of a break after 393. A welcome break it was, and my mind started to get a little more right down this stretch. My memory is a little fuzzy, so I can’t recall if it was at this point where we took a right down some nice country roads, or a left on to Ballard School Road. Regardless, Ballard School was another portion I had heard stories about but, all in all, it wasn’t that bad. Maybe because it felt shorter. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t “fun” by any means, but after 1694 and 393 this seemed tame in comparison. Still, it was somewhere around this point that I began to wonder who I could call to come pick me up if I threw in the towel and decided I could do no more hills.
Another left down a quasi-short road and we came upon our second stop – another gas station. At this point I definitely needed some cold liquid as my water bottles had since melted and were lukewarm. Nick also bought a bag of ice and it was refreshing to plop some into my water bottles as well as rub across my arms. I’m not sure the temperature at this point, but we were looking at about 9:30 a.m. and the sun had been shining for a while. I seriously don’t know how people did IMLOU in August. I directed a question towards Nick that I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know the answer to: “How many more roads do we go down that have massive hills?” Imagine my delight when I heard that we had already put the three toughest portions behind us, and all we had to do now was take Hwy 42 back into town. Shew!
Shew, that is, until I realized just how long Hwy 42 was going to be. At one point I saw a sign that said “Louisville 33,” yet knowing that we weren’t riding all the way back into the city limits, I knew we had less mileage than this to go. I was honestly just keeping my eyes peeled for 393 and 1694 again so I could at least know that we were in the home stretch and what to expect. And even though there were no massive hills on the way back, rolling hills are still hills and I still loath them more than most things in life (at least, at that time). There was also a nice headwind that had picked up, which made things tough. To the point that I looked down to read that I was going just 12.8 mph. Well that’s not gonna get me to the end of the course on time come race day, I thought. Still, I pedaled on with Nick’s encouragement and with the end in sight.
At some point a car slowed down beside me and I heard a gal calling my name. Well there was Miss Terri Torres singing her salutations to me, and this did give me a little pick me up. Terri and I did our first Olympic triathlon together in 2010, and she is a multiple Ironman finisher, including Louisville. She is a supportive and awesome chick!
Up ahead I did managed to see the signs for 393, and shortly after 1694. How happy I was to know that we had just a little ways to go. I remember thinking that if I was asked to do that course again there was no way I could. However, what also popped into my mind is that I’ve often said the same thing about running. During a 5k I can’t imagine doing a 10k. During a 10k I can’t imagine a half-marathon. After a half I couldn’t imagine if someone told me, “now go out there and do it again.” Yet, I always manage to finish whatever mileage is thrown at me. I’ve already made a mental note to keep this in mind during these training rides.
A few hills up ahead and we were back to the portion of the route that finally looked familiar to me. One more right turn onto River Road, then a left shortly after to take me back to the car gave me a total of 63 miles in 4:20 with a 14.4mph average. Nick and Eric went straight up River Road to get in a total of 70, but I was mentally and physically toast so I opted out at that point.
Back at the car I racked my bike, donned my running shoes, and strapped on my fuel belt before heading out for a 30 minute transition walk/run. I had started to feel bloated about 50 miles into the ride, so I was fairly certain this walk/run would turn into a mostly walk and I was correct! By this time it was 11:30 and the sun was going to be the hottest it was all day, and with little cloud coverage in the sky to shield me from its rays I knew I wouldn’t be worth much speed-wise. I made it a little ways up River Road before turning onto Mayfair for a 15 minute out-and-back. As per usual, my tummy began talking to me right around the turn-around point and I began looking for a place to pop a squat, knowing there was no way I would make it back to Kroger. Long story short, there is now a log in the side field of someone’s property that bears the essence of Connie. Needless to say, I felt much better afterwards and back to the car I went.
Closing thoughts: 1) Body Glide is a Godsend. 2) I hope people don’t think I’m snobby for not talking during rides. When I’m struggling mentally I find it hard to get into a conversation, and I just want to focus on how to get through the next mile. 3) My left calf isn’t bothering me thus far, but the knee is still giving me fits. 4) My booty hurts. 5) Can I really do this?
Friday, June 19, 2015
Feeling Good
I’m on day 4 of another training week and I’ve only missed one workout so far. I was looking back through my Training Peaks account, and it looks like I was doing really well for the first four weeks, and that it was only during weeks 5-8 I was experiencing some major slacking. In hindsight, I think it may have been a combination of the unseasonably cooler, overcast weather (it’s amazing how much this affects my mood), some possible burnout due to going from only minor training to a pretty significant jump in a short amount of time, coupled with that short-lived (thank goodness) stint of depression that seemingly came out of nowhere – and for no reason. But… once again, since meeting with the coach and getting back into the saddle (literally and figuratively), I’m feeling good about this race.
Muncie (host city to my first Half Ironman) is only three weeks from tomorrow, and as of right now I’m feeling fairly good about it. As I’ve stated before, that open water swim at Freeman Lake a few weeks ago really helped with my confidence in the water – at least, the confidence in being able to complete the mileage without completely bonking. And with a handful of 50ish+ mile bike rides under my belt, I’m also pretty confident that I can pull that sucker off as well. However, although the run alone wouldn’t normally be bothersome for me, the fact that I probably won’t even begin that third leg until around noon in one of the hottest months in the mid-west AFTER completing a swim and a bike, well….. let’s just say I am a bit nervous about it. I went out earlier this week for a five mile run at 3:30 p.m. thinking it might do me some good to acclimate to the heat in order to prepare. It wasn’t pretty. It’s never pretty trying to trudge along breathing in thick, humid air with the sun beating down on you. This should be an experience.
One thing that IS bothering me is my left knee and calf. I’ve had little aches and pains off and on in different areas of my body during my training, but this discomfort has been pretty consistent for about a week now. I first noticed it after my last bike ride 6 days ago, but fortunately it didn’t give me much trouble on that two hour run the following day. It wasn’t until I started getting back out on Tuesday (three days ago) that it popped up again and has been REALLY bothersome since. To the point that I walked my 50 minute run session today because I didn’t want to aggravate it prior to the 2:15 run I have to do tomorrow. The 4.5 hour bike in a few days definitely has me a bit concerned as well, as I don’t have my second bike fit for another five days, and don’t meet with the physical therapist for a week. Hopefully the pain is just a matter of a slightly different bike fit. If not, then perhaps the PT can shed some light and give me some good news on a diagnosis and prognosis. Now that I’ve rededicated myself to the training, the last thing I want is for it to be hampered by some physical ailments.
Overall, I’m definitely physically tired most days, although not to the point of exhaustion. The mental aspect of it all is getting better, and I can say that making myself get out and do the training sessions feels better than the guilt I’ve been experiencing when missing them this past month. My longer training sessions bring about thoughts regarding whether or not I will do this again – dedicate so much time and energy to a grueling race that lasts less than a day. At this point, I honestly don’t know. Having never done an Ironman it’s hard to know beforehand if all of this effort is worth it in the end. It’s definitely a commitment, and I’ve always heard that the training itself is the hardest part. To that, I would have to agree. However, I once said I would never do another half-marathon again and yet look where I am – ten years later and 27 13.1 milers deep. Never say never I guess. Of course, ask me again on October 12th. Although you may get a different answer if you wait until November.
Muncie (host city to my first Half Ironman) is only three weeks from tomorrow, and as of right now I’m feeling fairly good about it. As I’ve stated before, that open water swim at Freeman Lake a few weeks ago really helped with my confidence in the water – at least, the confidence in being able to complete the mileage without completely bonking. And with a handful of 50ish+ mile bike rides under my belt, I’m also pretty confident that I can pull that sucker off as well. However, although the run alone wouldn’t normally be bothersome for me, the fact that I probably won’t even begin that third leg until around noon in one of the hottest months in the mid-west AFTER completing a swim and a bike, well….. let’s just say I am a bit nervous about it. I went out earlier this week for a five mile run at 3:30 p.m. thinking it might do me some good to acclimate to the heat in order to prepare. It wasn’t pretty. It’s never pretty trying to trudge along breathing in thick, humid air with the sun beating down on you. This should be an experience.
One thing that IS bothering me is my left knee and calf. I’ve had little aches and pains off and on in different areas of my body during my training, but this discomfort has been pretty consistent for about a week now. I first noticed it after my last bike ride 6 days ago, but fortunately it didn’t give me much trouble on that two hour run the following day. It wasn’t until I started getting back out on Tuesday (three days ago) that it popped up again and has been REALLY bothersome since. To the point that I walked my 50 minute run session today because I didn’t want to aggravate it prior to the 2:15 run I have to do tomorrow. The 4.5 hour bike in a few days definitely has me a bit concerned as well, as I don’t have my second bike fit for another five days, and don’t meet with the physical therapist for a week. Hopefully the pain is just a matter of a slightly different bike fit. If not, then perhaps the PT can shed some light and give me some good news on a diagnosis and prognosis. Now that I’ve rededicated myself to the training, the last thing I want is for it to be hampered by some physical ailments.
Overall, I’m definitely physically tired most days, although not to the point of exhaustion. The mental aspect of it all is getting better, and I can say that making myself get out and do the training sessions feels better than the guilt I’ve been experiencing when missing them this past month. My longer training sessions bring about thoughts regarding whether or not I will do this again – dedicate so much time and energy to a grueling race that lasts less than a day. At this point, I honestly don’t know. Having never done an Ironman it’s hard to know beforehand if all of this effort is worth it in the end. It’s definitely a commitment, and I’ve always heard that the training itself is the hardest part. To that, I would have to agree. However, I once said I would never do another half-marathon again and yet look where I am – ten years later and 27 13.1 milers deep. Never say never I guess. Of course, ask me again on October 12th. Although you may get a different answer if you wait until November.
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
Newfound Motivation
I had the meeting with my coach two days ago, and it seems that since then something has just clicked. I don't know if it was the validation that if I don't get out and get the proper amount of training done that the possibility of a DNF is very real or what. He also told me that if we were having this same conversation two months from now (which is two months before the race) that he'd tell me to pull out. That was a big wake up call. He pointed out my sessions on Training Peaks, and the fact that many weeks I'm only hitting 50% of the planned training sessions. What could I say? I can certainly EXPLAIN why I've been slacking, but that certainly doesn't EXCUSE it.
So... yesterday morning I woke up and got my butt out of bed for the first swim since this revelation. And it was actually a very decent swim. Probably my third 2300 meter swim, and I never felt fatigued at all. A little bored, yes, but tired - nope. Afterwards, when my work day finally ended, I hopped on the bike to do my 1:30 ride. I've begun to get very tired of doing what seems like endless loops around the park to get my rides in (okay, maybe more like 2-3 loops, not endless), so I headed out of the park after the first go round and made my way downtown to River Road and then back up to Brownsboro via Lime Kiln. By the time I reached Rudy Lane it was evident that I would be getting just at 1:30 in (a total of 21.6 miles). And considering I'm trying to keep my HR as low as possible, I was surprised to see my average pace was 15.1 mph (moving pace anyway - doesn't account for stop lights and a small break I took on River Road.)
Today, I'm feeling just as motivated even though I had a horrible nights sleep. I'm assuming it was a combination of the adrenaline post-ride and the aching I felt in my left knee and calf (side note: I have my second bike fitting scheduled for next week since I've been noticing knee pain for a few weeks now). I've also ordered some new Brooks Ghosts running shoes, as I found the Hoka Cliftons I purchased in April cause blisters and don't fit as well as my Brooks.
So my next task is to conquer a 4.5 hour bike ride this weekend, which will give me approx. 65-70 miles. Not only will this be my longest ride to date, but it will also take place on the Ironman Louisville course, which I've been wanting to ride for a while now. I honestly believe that knowing what I'm up against won't make it seem so intimidating and implausible come race day. And getting an idea of what the course looks like, what to expect, landmarks to gauge what's up ahead and how much further I have to endure are all things that can only help me on race day. Unfortunately it also looks like there is a chance of rain everyday for the next 5 days, including a 60% chance on my Saturday ride day. Blech. But... hopefully it will hold off and we can get it done.
So... yesterday morning I woke up and got my butt out of bed for the first swim since this revelation. And it was actually a very decent swim. Probably my third 2300 meter swim, and I never felt fatigued at all. A little bored, yes, but tired - nope. Afterwards, when my work day finally ended, I hopped on the bike to do my 1:30 ride. I've begun to get very tired of doing what seems like endless loops around the park to get my rides in (okay, maybe more like 2-3 loops, not endless), so I headed out of the park after the first go round and made my way downtown to River Road and then back up to Brownsboro via Lime Kiln. By the time I reached Rudy Lane it was evident that I would be getting just at 1:30 in (a total of 21.6 miles). And considering I'm trying to keep my HR as low as possible, I was surprised to see my average pace was 15.1 mph (moving pace anyway - doesn't account for stop lights and a small break I took on River Road.)
Today, I'm feeling just as motivated even though I had a horrible nights sleep. I'm assuming it was a combination of the adrenaline post-ride and the aching I felt in my left knee and calf (side note: I have my second bike fitting scheduled for next week since I've been noticing knee pain for a few weeks now). I've also ordered some new Brooks Ghosts running shoes, as I found the Hoka Cliftons I purchased in April cause blisters and don't fit as well as my Brooks.
So my next task is to conquer a 4.5 hour bike ride this weekend, which will give me approx. 65-70 miles. Not only will this be my longest ride to date, but it will also take place on the Ironman Louisville course, which I've been wanting to ride for a while now. I honestly believe that knowing what I'm up against won't make it seem so intimidating and implausible come race day. And getting an idea of what the course looks like, what to expect, landmarks to gauge what's up ahead and how much further I have to endure are all things that can only help me on race day. Unfortunately it also looks like there is a chance of rain everyday for the next 5 days, including a 60% chance on my Saturday ride day. Blech. But... hopefully it will hold off and we can get it done.
Sunday, June 14, 2015
Training (somewhat) Continues
It's been a bittersweet weekend with my training. Did a 3 hour (46 mile) bike yesterday starting at 8:00 a.m. and from the onset I really wasn't feeling it. We were to spend most of the ride doing rolling hills through Jefferson Memorial Forest, and I didn't know the route so I had no idea what to expect. It was a hot morning to start, not to mention the humidity and not a cloud in the sky (meaning the sun beat down on us the entire ride). We got about 30-40 minutes into the ride and it was decided that we would do part of the Louisville Loop, taking us out to the West End of Louisville then back up to downtown before heading to our ending point at the park. This meant that the tail end of our bike would be almost completely flat which, not what I needed or expected, but what I voted for and succumbed to given my state of mind at that point.
I took enough nutrition, and drank on my water from time to time, but I guess I wasn't drinking enough (or maybe should have brought something other than water) because I felt drained by the end of our ride, and after drinking three huge glasses of lemonade with lunch after, I still didn't have to immediately go to the bathroom. I even opted out of the thirty minute transition run I was supposed to do after the bike because I was so hot and tired - I couldn't imagine walking through the park for an additional half-hour after that bike.
Today, I had to get a two hour run in, and since I didn't want to get up at 6:00 a.m. to try and beat the heat, I decided to put it off until this evening, so I headed out the door at 7:00 p.m. The sun was still coming down pretty hard, and I had a small, 12 oz. bottle of frozen water with me. I was only running around my neighborhood, so I knew that if worse came to worse I could always head back home and finish out the run on the treadmill. The treadmill, however, sounded much worse than an 80 degree outdoor run so I was going to try and get as much of it done on the pavement as possible.
I started out with a 3 minute run and 3 minute walk warm-up before headed into my 4:1 intervals. As I said, the sun was beating down and I started sweating early on, so I was surprised at how good I felt throughout the run. I even made sure to take routes that would lead me away from home so I wouldn't feel tempted to just hang it up and succumb to the treadmill. With 40 minutes left to go, I actually ended up passing by my place not once, but twice (the second time was 1:35 in) but I still managed to keep on and took yet another turn away from the house trying to get the full 2 hours in. Alas, by the time I passed by the house once again it was 1:50 and I decided that was good enough. I ended up with almost 9.5 miles, which I believe is my longest run since the Derby mini in April.
So... despite my less-than-stellar ride yesterday, I made up for it with a better-than-expected run today. I guess it just goes to show that you never know what kind of training day you're going to have until you just get out there and do it. Which brings me to my next issue: the training itself.
My coach hadn't put up the training schedule for me for this week by this afternoon, so I was a bit concerned considering I like to plan ahead at what to expect for the week. Long story short, I've been missing many of the week-day sessions and he says that he doesn't know where to go with my training plan since it usually builds off of what I've already been doing. Since what I've been doing isn't much (by IM training standards anyway), I guess he doesn't know what to put on the schedule. This makes sense and I admitted that I have been slacking. Not due to laziness, but mostly due to still feeling overwhelmed, dealing with lack-of-motivation at times, and just plain old scheduling conflicts. Regardless, I get where he's coming from, so I told him that I'd like to talk about an option where he just creates a generic plan for me to follow for the next 4 months, taking into account what I've done so far so that he doesn't have to change up the plan when I have weeks like this. His response was for us to meet up tomorrow and talk about it, so that's what we plan to do. I guess I'll get a better idea of things once we talk things over and figure out our options.
Despite this, as well as the issues I was having a few weeks ago where I wanted to "hang it up," and back out of the race all together, I really don't want to do that now. I really do want to finish, but I want to finish and remember it as a good, fun experience - not a dreadful, awful thing that I had to "survive." I know in order to do that that I have to get the proper training in. It's just hard. Sometimes I don't know what drives me to skip those workouts. I need to do some soul searching on this and figure it out, because it would kill me to DNF in this race.
I took enough nutrition, and drank on my water from time to time, but I guess I wasn't drinking enough (or maybe should have brought something other than water) because I felt drained by the end of our ride, and after drinking three huge glasses of lemonade with lunch after, I still didn't have to immediately go to the bathroom. I even opted out of the thirty minute transition run I was supposed to do after the bike because I was so hot and tired - I couldn't imagine walking through the park for an additional half-hour after that bike.
Today, I had to get a two hour run in, and since I didn't want to get up at 6:00 a.m. to try and beat the heat, I decided to put it off until this evening, so I headed out the door at 7:00 p.m. The sun was still coming down pretty hard, and I had a small, 12 oz. bottle of frozen water with me. I was only running around my neighborhood, so I knew that if worse came to worse I could always head back home and finish out the run on the treadmill. The treadmill, however, sounded much worse than an 80 degree outdoor run so I was going to try and get as much of it done on the pavement as possible.
I started out with a 3 minute run and 3 minute walk warm-up before headed into my 4:1 intervals. As I said, the sun was beating down and I started sweating early on, so I was surprised at how good I felt throughout the run. I even made sure to take routes that would lead me away from home so I wouldn't feel tempted to just hang it up and succumb to the treadmill. With 40 minutes left to go, I actually ended up passing by my place not once, but twice (the second time was 1:35 in) but I still managed to keep on and took yet another turn away from the house trying to get the full 2 hours in. Alas, by the time I passed by the house once again it was 1:50 and I decided that was good enough. I ended up with almost 9.5 miles, which I believe is my longest run since the Derby mini in April.
So... despite my less-than-stellar ride yesterday, I made up for it with a better-than-expected run today. I guess it just goes to show that you never know what kind of training day you're going to have until you just get out there and do it. Which brings me to my next issue: the training itself.
My coach hadn't put up the training schedule for me for this week by this afternoon, so I was a bit concerned considering I like to plan ahead at what to expect for the week. Long story short, I've been missing many of the week-day sessions and he says that he doesn't know where to go with my training plan since it usually builds off of what I've already been doing. Since what I've been doing isn't much (by IM training standards anyway), I guess he doesn't know what to put on the schedule. This makes sense and I admitted that I have been slacking. Not due to laziness, but mostly due to still feeling overwhelmed, dealing with lack-of-motivation at times, and just plain old scheduling conflicts. Regardless, I get where he's coming from, so I told him that I'd like to talk about an option where he just creates a generic plan for me to follow for the next 4 months, taking into account what I've done so far so that he doesn't have to change up the plan when I have weeks like this. His response was for us to meet up tomorrow and talk about it, so that's what we plan to do. I guess I'll get a better idea of things once we talk things over and figure out our options.
Despite this, as well as the issues I was having a few weeks ago where I wanted to "hang it up," and back out of the race all together, I really don't want to do that now. I really do want to finish, but I want to finish and remember it as a good, fun experience - not a dreadful, awful thing that I had to "survive." I know in order to do that that I have to get the proper training in. It's just hard. Sometimes I don't know what drives me to skip those workouts. I need to do some soul searching on this and figure it out, because it would kill me to DNF in this race.
Saturday, June 6, 2015
Longest Bike Ride
As usual, I had a hard time getting out of bed this morning for my long bike ride after a mediocre night of sleep (these seem to be happening a lot this week). Luckily, I had planned on a 4-hour bike with a couple of people who were meeting me at the park, so the accountability always helps to get me going. That, and the fact that I knew I’d feel much better afterwards having done it, and not put it off for another day.
The route was fairly simple and mostly flat: one loop through the park with David before picking up Jeanette for a second loop, and then on to downtown, over the bridge and up Utica Pike. As I told these two when we crossed the bridge: “The good thing about Utica Pike is its flat. The bad thing about Utica Pike is its flat.”
It was a great morning to ride as we started out at 7:00 a.m. The weather was calling for some hot temps later on, so I definitely wanted to get started before the sweltering began. The loops through the park were fairly simple and easy – I’ve ridden this route so many times it’s always a bit of a blur when trying to write about it later. As we made our way out of the park following that second loop however, a good-sized deer ran in front of us: a nice little scene of nature shortly into our ride.
Making our way down Lexington and then Spring Street before heading into downtown was a breeze. And Jeanette and I continued on over the Big 4 Bridge to the Indiana side while David stopped for a small snack at the bottom of the Kentucky side. Pretty soon though, we reconvened to start our journey out Utica Pike to 62 before turning back around. At this point we had gone approximately 27 miles in 1:42 with a 14.7 average pace.
I had eaten half a container of oatmeal in the car on the way to the bike, so I decided to take in a Gu at this point. I had also brought a frozen bottle of water as well as Gatorade. I was concerned with only 4 Clif Bloks on me that I may require some more nutrition; however, since we were already nearly halfway through the ride I wasn’t too worried about it.
Off we went and the three of us played leap frog for the lead (although I have to admit that both David and Jeanette were ahead of me for most of this ride). Wasn’t really much to contend with during this long, flat stretch of land, so I just took it in and noticed my mind wandering to a few different thoughts: first – I recall my first trek down this route was a 28-miler at the beginning of the season, and how tired I was afterwards. Second – being told that 50-mile rides would soon be considered my “short ride” and how daunting that sounded back then, and how it doesn’t now. Third – how it seems the more you ride a particular route the shorter it seems. Maybe because as you get to know a route you know what to expect and how long to anticipate the miles ahead before certain landmarks or turn-around points.
David mentioned a big hill at some point, although I didn’t recall this at all. That is, until we hit that last four miles before our turn-around spot and I found myself with lethargic legs as we made our way towards Highway 62. Not realizing it until just this ride, but most of that road is nothing but a gradual, slow incline with some smaller, steeper hills built in. I’m already making a mental note of this for next time.
At the end of this portion of our ride David sat down for a small break while Jeanette and I refueled on water and nutrition. Within a few minutes we were off again and making our way back DOWN that 4-mile climb we just conquered. At this point the conversation started picking up and we killed a few miles trading war stories about dating and relationships. This is probably one of my favorite things about long rides with others – getting to know them on a personal level while ticking away the miles without even realizing it.
Back down Utica Pike we went and, again, I was bringing up the rear. Probably half a mile to the bridge Jeanette hits a pothole and her back tire goes flat. Luckily, I had a spare tube on me and (luckily again), David knows how to quickly change a tire so we were back at it in no time. Across the bridge we went once more, through downtown, back up Lexington and into the park for the home stretch.
By the time we made our way back to our vehicles, my quads were pretty much toast. I talked Jeanette into one recovery lap around the Seneca walking path, so we got in a little bit more than a mile on that last bit. Final stats: 59 miles in 3:46 moving time at 15mph average.
Final thoughts: 1) No tummy issues on the ride and the oatmeal seemed to sustain me for quite a long time. 2) I may need to get my seat angled up a bit, and my cleats moved forward. Feeling a lot of pressure on my nether-regions and find myself “scooting back” some on the seat. Started to feel some cramping in my right calf about 3 hours in and left foot goes numb at times. 3) Hoo Ha Glide does nothing for me, but the Body Glide works great, although I do feel a bit “rubbed” in some areas. 4) Surprisingly, my mental state during these longer rides has been great – no bonking, no emotional break downs, etc., which tells me that my mental capacity and confidence are definitely improving.
The route was fairly simple and mostly flat: one loop through the park with David before picking up Jeanette for a second loop, and then on to downtown, over the bridge and up Utica Pike. As I told these two when we crossed the bridge: “The good thing about Utica Pike is its flat. The bad thing about Utica Pike is its flat.”
It was a great morning to ride as we started out at 7:00 a.m. The weather was calling for some hot temps later on, so I definitely wanted to get started before the sweltering began. The loops through the park were fairly simple and easy – I’ve ridden this route so many times it’s always a bit of a blur when trying to write about it later. As we made our way out of the park following that second loop however, a good-sized deer ran in front of us: a nice little scene of nature shortly into our ride.
Making our way down Lexington and then Spring Street before heading into downtown was a breeze. And Jeanette and I continued on over the Big 4 Bridge to the Indiana side while David stopped for a small snack at the bottom of the Kentucky side. Pretty soon though, we reconvened to start our journey out Utica Pike to 62 before turning back around. At this point we had gone approximately 27 miles in 1:42 with a 14.7 average pace.
I had eaten half a container of oatmeal in the car on the way to the bike, so I decided to take in a Gu at this point. I had also brought a frozen bottle of water as well as Gatorade. I was concerned with only 4 Clif Bloks on me that I may require some more nutrition; however, since we were already nearly halfway through the ride I wasn’t too worried about it.
Off we went and the three of us played leap frog for the lead (although I have to admit that both David and Jeanette were ahead of me for most of this ride). Wasn’t really much to contend with during this long, flat stretch of land, so I just took it in and noticed my mind wandering to a few different thoughts: first – I recall my first trek down this route was a 28-miler at the beginning of the season, and how tired I was afterwards. Second – being told that 50-mile rides would soon be considered my “short ride” and how daunting that sounded back then, and how it doesn’t now. Third – how it seems the more you ride a particular route the shorter it seems. Maybe because as you get to know a route you know what to expect and how long to anticipate the miles ahead before certain landmarks or turn-around points.
David mentioned a big hill at some point, although I didn’t recall this at all. That is, until we hit that last four miles before our turn-around spot and I found myself with lethargic legs as we made our way towards Highway 62. Not realizing it until just this ride, but most of that road is nothing but a gradual, slow incline with some smaller, steeper hills built in. I’m already making a mental note of this for next time.
At the end of this portion of our ride David sat down for a small break while Jeanette and I refueled on water and nutrition. Within a few minutes we were off again and making our way back DOWN that 4-mile climb we just conquered. At this point the conversation started picking up and we killed a few miles trading war stories about dating and relationships. This is probably one of my favorite things about long rides with others – getting to know them on a personal level while ticking away the miles without even realizing it.
Back down Utica Pike we went and, again, I was bringing up the rear. Probably half a mile to the bridge Jeanette hits a pothole and her back tire goes flat. Luckily, I had a spare tube on me and (luckily again), David knows how to quickly change a tire so we were back at it in no time. Across the bridge we went once more, through downtown, back up Lexington and into the park for the home stretch.
By the time we made our way back to our vehicles, my quads were pretty much toast. I talked Jeanette into one recovery lap around the Seneca walking path, so we got in a little bit more than a mile on that last bit. Final stats: 59 miles in 3:46 moving time at 15mph average.
Final thoughts: 1) No tummy issues on the ride and the oatmeal seemed to sustain me for quite a long time. 2) I may need to get my seat angled up a bit, and my cleats moved forward. Feeling a lot of pressure on my nether-regions and find myself “scooting back” some on the seat. Started to feel some cramping in my right calf about 3 hours in and left foot goes numb at times. 3) Hoo Ha Glide does nothing for me, but the Body Glide works great, although I do feel a bit “rubbed” in some areas. 4) Surprisingly, my mental state during these longer rides has been great – no bonking, no emotional break downs, etc., which tells me that my mental capacity and confidence are definitely improving.
Saturday, May 30, 2015
Freeman Lake - Longest OWS (1.33 miles)
This morning marked my longest open water swim (OWS) to date.
I had signed up just this past week for the 2k OWS at Freeman Lake in Etown after giving some thought to the fact that everything I’ve done thus far has been in the pool. A tri friend I had ridden with about a month ago asked if I wanted to drive down together, and we met at my place at 6:30 a.m. to make the 45 minute trek in preparation for an 8:00 swim start.
My nerves really didn’t hit until we were on the dock, and about to plunge into the water. I had already made contact with many Landsharks prior to the race, some of which were doing the 4k swim – good for them. I myself had initially told one of the swim coaches that I was thinking about doing that distance as well. You know, to get my mind prepared for Ironman – psyching myself out to know that if I can do the 4k now, then 2.4 miles in 4 ½ months will be a piece of cake. His response: “I’m not trying to talk you out of it, but….” Hence, I signed up for the 2k and here I was – about to go off on this long, continuous swim.
We got in the water 5 minutes after the 4k group went off, and 5 minutes before the 1k group. Only a few minutes in the water to make our way to the start, they sound the horn and off we went. I hit the Garmin so that I would know exactly how long this little swim session would take me, and shortly thereafter hit a pretty good groove.
Most of the race is a bit of a blur, since there’s not much to see or hear or even think about while swimming through murky, deep water. I do remember getting into a rhythm and deciding that sighting every 4th breath is what was going to work best for me. The course was made up of a rectangle-shaped course that the 2k group had to complete twice. I finished up the first course and started in on the second, feeling fairly confident about my form and overall swim, even though I was dead last of the 2k group (a 1k swimmer had even passed me at one point during my first lap around, and by the time I was a little ways into the second lap, I began getting passed by the 4k group. Still, I know that I’m a slow swimmer so this snail-like pace did not dissuade me).
Rounding the next-to-last buoy, a 4k swimmer passed me on the right, throwing up a wave of water that I promptly took into my mouth and down my throat. After getting that initial choking sensation over with, I found myself unable to breath and was gasping for air. Thank goodness I decided on wearing my wetsuit, as I literally bounced there in the water trying to catch my breath. After the 3rd or 4th time trying to get air back into my lungs, I began to panic a bit and the wetsuit started to feel like a boa constrictor around my throat. I decided to lay on my back, floating for a minute or so while physically holding the collar away from my neck in order to try to get some air in and calm my nerves. By that point a kayaker had come over and began asking if I was okay. I was still having some trouble breathing, but managed to nod my head indicating that I would be. And then….. the water-works came.
Looking back I’m not sure why I had this reaction. Typically I don’t break down unless I’m feeling really overwhelmed, which I wasn’t at this point. In fact, one more turn and I was in the home stretch and about to be done with this race. I can only imagine that it was due to the anxiety and fear I had when I was unable to catch my breath. In those first few moments I was looking around for a kayak to hang on to just in case, but there weren’t any close by. I remember thinking, “If I can’t catch my breath, I could actually die out here.” A little melodramatic looking back at it, but in those scary few seconds it felt totally logical.
As I began to make my way forward once again, I starting to wonder what I would do if this happened during IMLOU, and if I would let it get to me the way it just had. Those thoughts only lasted a few minutes however, as I was back into my groove in no time and, again, sighting those buoys every fourth breath.
Near the end of the course I wasn’t quite sure which direction to head. A kayaker kindly showed me the way, and I was guided around one more buoy before hanging a right to make my way to the boat ramp and onto shore. Luckily, I had remembered to wear my earplugs so vertigo wasn’t a problem as I stood up out of the water. I felt only slightly disoriented and slipped only once before finally making my way out of the water. I hit the Garmin’s STOP button to see that I had finished in just over 56 minutes (after uploading the data from the Garmin, my official “moving” time was just over 54 minutes for 1.33 miles, which converts to 2:21/100m – a 1 hr. and 31 minute IMLOU finishing time).
Overall, I’d say this was a fairly decent race. Yes, I was slow, but as I’ve told the swim coach before, I feel like when I get into a good groove I can go at it all day. I just may not go at it as fast as others. I never got winded or felt tired. I never got mentally overwhelmed. In fact, I really do think I could have gone the entire 4k. If I would have made the cutoff or not – eh, that’s another question.
I had signed up just this past week for the 2k OWS at Freeman Lake in Etown after giving some thought to the fact that everything I’ve done thus far has been in the pool. A tri friend I had ridden with about a month ago asked if I wanted to drive down together, and we met at my place at 6:30 a.m. to make the 45 minute trek in preparation for an 8:00 swim start.
My nerves really didn’t hit until we were on the dock, and about to plunge into the water. I had already made contact with many Landsharks prior to the race, some of which were doing the 4k swim – good for them. I myself had initially told one of the swim coaches that I was thinking about doing that distance as well. You know, to get my mind prepared for Ironman – psyching myself out to know that if I can do the 4k now, then 2.4 miles in 4 ½ months will be a piece of cake. His response: “I’m not trying to talk you out of it, but….” Hence, I signed up for the 2k and here I was – about to go off on this long, continuous swim.
We got in the water 5 minutes after the 4k group went off, and 5 minutes before the 1k group. Only a few minutes in the water to make our way to the start, they sound the horn and off we went. I hit the Garmin so that I would know exactly how long this little swim session would take me, and shortly thereafter hit a pretty good groove.
Most of the race is a bit of a blur, since there’s not much to see or hear or even think about while swimming through murky, deep water. I do remember getting into a rhythm and deciding that sighting every 4th breath is what was going to work best for me. The course was made up of a rectangle-shaped course that the 2k group had to complete twice. I finished up the first course and started in on the second, feeling fairly confident about my form and overall swim, even though I was dead last of the 2k group (a 1k swimmer had even passed me at one point during my first lap around, and by the time I was a little ways into the second lap, I began getting passed by the 4k group. Still, I know that I’m a slow swimmer so this snail-like pace did not dissuade me).
Rounding the next-to-last buoy, a 4k swimmer passed me on the right, throwing up a wave of water that I promptly took into my mouth and down my throat. After getting that initial choking sensation over with, I found myself unable to breath and was gasping for air. Thank goodness I decided on wearing my wetsuit, as I literally bounced there in the water trying to catch my breath. After the 3rd or 4th time trying to get air back into my lungs, I began to panic a bit and the wetsuit started to feel like a boa constrictor around my throat. I decided to lay on my back, floating for a minute or so while physically holding the collar away from my neck in order to try to get some air in and calm my nerves. By that point a kayaker had come over and began asking if I was okay. I was still having some trouble breathing, but managed to nod my head indicating that I would be. And then….. the water-works came.
Looking back I’m not sure why I had this reaction. Typically I don’t break down unless I’m feeling really overwhelmed, which I wasn’t at this point. In fact, one more turn and I was in the home stretch and about to be done with this race. I can only imagine that it was due to the anxiety and fear I had when I was unable to catch my breath. In those first few moments I was looking around for a kayak to hang on to just in case, but there weren’t any close by. I remember thinking, “If I can’t catch my breath, I could actually die out here.” A little melodramatic looking back at it, but in those scary few seconds it felt totally logical.
As I began to make my way forward once again, I starting to wonder what I would do if this happened during IMLOU, and if I would let it get to me the way it just had. Those thoughts only lasted a few minutes however, as I was back into my groove in no time and, again, sighting those buoys every fourth breath.
Near the end of the course I wasn’t quite sure which direction to head. A kayaker kindly showed me the way, and I was guided around one more buoy before hanging a right to make my way to the boat ramp and onto shore. Luckily, I had remembered to wear my earplugs so vertigo wasn’t a problem as I stood up out of the water. I felt only slightly disoriented and slipped only once before finally making my way out of the water. I hit the Garmin’s STOP button to see that I had finished in just over 56 minutes (after uploading the data from the Garmin, my official “moving” time was just over 54 minutes for 1.33 miles, which converts to 2:21/100m – a 1 hr. and 31 minute IMLOU finishing time).
Overall, I’d say this was a fairly decent race. Yes, I was slow, but as I’ve told the swim coach before, I feel like when I get into a good groove I can go at it all day. I just may not go at it as fast as others. I never got winded or felt tired. I never got mentally overwhelmed. In fact, I really do think I could have gone the entire 4k. If I would have made the cutoff or not – eh, that’s another question.
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