Urban Bourbon Half Marathon

Once again, the morning of the race I’m feeling like doing anything else BUT run a 13.1 miler. But…the weather was extremely nice (overcast and 49 degrees), so I put on the normal running gear and out the door Jim and I went to run my twenty-second half marathon. The night before, I had been out with a group of new lady-friends that I had just met to talk running and triathlon. Being out until nearly 10 p.m., having very little to eat, and not completing my night-before ritual of laying all of my clothes, Garmin, running belt, shoes, etc. out gives you an idea of where my mind was. Not on this race. But by the time we got to the starting line, I had luckily found some motivation. Jim and I ran this race last year (it was his first half), and we had talked about sticking together throughout the race again this year and doing my normal run-a-mile, walk-a-minute intervals. So when the gun went off, this plan is what I fully expected, until Jim let it be known that he had to pee. Great. This early in the race you just KNOW all the porta-pots are gonna be crazy-busy, and for some reason, even though he’s a dude, he refuses to just find a bush and save some time. A mile in I tell him that we need to take our walk break. He tells me that he is going to find a place to use the bathroom and we’ll catch up again just ahead. Well…. four miles into the race we still hadn’t caught up with one another, and having him in my sights the whole time and not seeing him stop for the restroom had me seething mad. This probably gave me the motivation to run that first four as fast as I did (10:05, 10:05, 10:00 and 9:36, respectively). Because I had made it my purpose to eventually catch up with him, coupled with the fact that it didn’t appear that he was taking any walk breaks himself, I had cut my walk breaks down and had just taken my second one 2.5 miles in. Just before the 4 mile marker I caught up with him and voiced my disappointment that he took off and left me. Continuing on at my mad-as-hell pace, I didn’t want him to catch back up just yet so I didn’t take my third walk break until the 5-mile marker (10:13). I was feeling great though, and when we finally did meet up again, Jim explained that he didn’t mean to leave me, but he was feeling good and had run his first three miles in 27 minutes and didn’t want to stop. Of course, I told him I was fine with this – I mean, who am I to keep someone from hauling ass when they’re feeling in the zone during a race? We ran the next 2-3 miles together, but since miles six (11:19) and seven (11:54) were so darn hilly, I lost a bit of that momentum I started with and my tired body began to feel it. Doing some math as I crossed the seven mile marker, I realized that if I finished out the last six at 11 minutes each, I’d be looking at a PR. Since I was still feeling decent at this point, I knew there was a good chance this could happen. Unfortunately, both my mind and my body got the best of me shortly thereafter, and I started to drag a bit. By mile 8 (10:53) my left knee was bothering me quite a bit, and the shorts that I’m so used to wearing decided to pick that day to enact revenge my riding up, leaving my poor thighs exposed to one another, causing a great deal of chafing – ouch! As we curved back up Grinstead , a nasty-long hill mind you, I ended up having to take yet another extended walk break, which set me back quite a bit pace-wise. Even taking advantage of the bystander holding the sign reading, “Touch here for power,” didn’t help my ninth mile (11:37). Coming down Baxter and then hooking a left back towards Muhammad Ali I wanted nothing more than this race to be over. I knew that my run-a-mile, walk-a-minute plan was no longer an option since my poor body just didn’t have it anymore. I trudged along as best I could until passing mile ten (11:24) and then decided to revisit my strategy. I knew that walking the last three miles would just be miserable, as well as accomplish little more than prolonging the pain, so that was out. I decided I would run one block, then walk one block, but half-way through the first walk portion it felt like TOO MUCH walking, so instead I decided to run a block and a half, walk a half a block. That seemed like a good compromise, and since my body was able to handle just that little bit we went for it. At mile 11 (11:46), which was near Second and Muhammad Ali, I began asking people if they knew how far down we went before heading back towards Main. Nobody knew, so I was never able to count down the blocks of these last two miles. Luckily as I saw the 12 mile marker (11:57), I also saw the right-hand turn taking us back towards the home stretch, and I was never so happy in all my life to be nearly done with a race (Okay, that’s probably not true, but it always seems so at the time – amiright?) My body was still keeping up with my block by block plan, and I continued on this journey until the very end. Even when the finish line was in sight I continued my walk breaks just so I’d have enough gas to keep me going strong down the finish chute. I passed the 13 mile marker (12:14) and a woman who passed me began egged me on to start running again. Her encouragement must have been just what I needed because I picked up the pace and headed home, finishing the race in an official 2:24:07 – my second best Half Marathon finish. Even though those last six miles were fairly rough, the first seven made this a pretty decent race for me. I felt good for the most part, my mind was in a good place and my Orange Theory workouts have continued to prove they are paying off. If anything, I know for sure that I need to devote more time to long distance training runs – which is always a problem for me. But, I guess the next two weekends will show where my strengths and weaknesses really are as I conquer the Indianapolis Monumental and Nashville half marathons. Five races in 6 weeks – am I nuts?! Guess time will tell if this was a good idea or not!

The Bourbon Chase

Before I even start this race report let me just say that this is the most fun you will ever have during a race experience. I mean, races are fun, but they're usually over after just a few hours. Imagine spending up to 36 hours in and out of a van with the same seven people while preparing for, or recovering from, three separate legs of a race - it's phenomenal. You really get to know your van-mates (for better or worse) and you get to experience many ranges of emotion throughout this day that add up to one exciting finish at the end. Last year was my first Bourbon Chase and when it was all said and done, I told my team to anticipate me being with them again this year because of the fun I had. After my stellar performance at the 10k last weekend, I had no doubt that I could finish my 4.9, 3.5 and 4.6 mile legs in record time (well.... record time for me at least. I didn't train much at all last year and my finishing times were not great, to say the least). So when I packed up my belongings, met the team out at V02, and saw other van-mates ready to go I started to get pretty pumped up myself. That is, until the news came down from Cap'n Jeff that Budget Car Rentals screwed up our reservation and revealed they had no vans for us. You see, typically when you enter The Bourbon Chase you go ahead and reserve two 14-passenger vans WAY in advance. Like, in March. When Jeff and the two van drivers went to pick them up at 9:00 that morning however, Budget said that they didn't have possession of said vans and basically didn't apologize for not holding up their end of the bargain. Long story short, we were able to at least get one mini-van at that point so that our Van 1 folks could head to the start (I believe they had MAYBE 10-20 minutes to spare after getting signed in), and the search continued for a van for the remainder of us. Alas, a drive to the airport was necessary to pick up the second vehicle, and after a final meet-up at V02, loading up our goodies, and getting as comfortable as we all could in such tight quarters, we headed to Clermont to meet up with our final runner before heading out on the course. I was runner #7 in Van 2, which means that I am the first runner to go off in our van after we meet up at the major exchange points with our other teammates in Van 1 - whom we hardly ever see. After a quick lunch, my van made our way to Maker's Mark Distillery and waited around a bit for runner #6 (Justin) to finish his first leg of the three-leg race. The weather was decent at this point - not too cool and the rain had moved out for a while so I didn't anticipate being hampered by mother nature during my 4.9 mile course. Not long after waiting at the exchange chute, Justin came up the road and I felt myself getting pumped up to go out for this run. After slapping on the bracelet, I hit my "start" button on the Garmin and off I went at approximately 3:40 p.m. Friday afternoon. It took me a while to settle into a good groove, but after a mile or so into the race my body still felt a bit heavy so I took a short walk break around the one-mile mark. I was able to run through mile 2, but just ahead by a quarter of a mile was an excruciatingly painful hill that, although short in distance, was the most steep I have seen in a while. I knew I'd have to walk some, so I went ahead and gave in to the pain - leaning forward a bit to keep my momentum going. My quads were getting sore, and my breathing was labored, but looking around to see that all the other runners around me had also slowed to a walk was validation that I wasn't merely being a wimp - this was one tough cookie. I finally crested Mount Suck and was relieved to see a straight and flat run up ahead. A van from another team pulled up beside me and asked if I wanted some water. The air was humid, I was sweating through my tech-shirt, and I hadn't anticipated needing a fuel belt considering the cooler temperatures, so the offer of liquid refreshment was nothing to pass up. They handed me a liter of Evian and off they drove. Now... I'm not one to complain about free water from kind strangers, but with 2 1/2 more miles to go, I was not looking forward to lugging this liter of water around until the finish. The situation being what it was however, I tucked it under my right arm like a football and off I went, ready to finish this leg once and for all. With less than two miles to go I had already passed up two runners and was feeling pretty proud of myself. My team's Van 1 slowly passed by and I frantically waved my arms like a burn victim trying to put out the flames to get their attention so that they could take the water bottle from me. The gesture seemed to be lost in translation however, as all they did was offer me a shot of whiskey while I forcibly shoved the plastic container into Kevin Byrne's waiting hands. (The shots of whiskey should tell you where the priorities lie in this race, by the way). Off I went with my arms free, and the lack of weight now made me feel that I could run for days (or at least, until the end of this leg). I saw the finishing chute up ahead and began looking around for the next team-mate to take the exchange bracelet off my hands - literally. Imagine my surprise when there was no one around to greet me. Other runners made comments such as, "you don't know where your team is?" "No," I replied, sounding like a kid who had just been abandoned at Kroger. Elise Watkins was across the street and called my name. Ah, finally - a friendly face. She asked who my next runner was and I told her I wasn't sure since my van never discussed it, but none of the faces in the crowd seemed to be my van-mates. After a long five minutes I heard Lori call my name, and she quickly snatched the bracelet from me and took off, pointing me in the direction of our van that had taken a wrong turn and gotten off course. After taking advantage of a little guilt-tripping towards the guys, the van took off again as we headed to meet Lori at the next exchange. A quick baby-wipe-bath in the back of the van, along with some fresh clothes got me feeling nice and refreshed for the 10-hour wait before my next run. Split times for this leg were: 10:05, 10:14, 12:05 (darn hill), 10:48 and unfortunately I will never accurately know what my last .9 was, as I was too worried about finding my van-mates to bother hitting the "stop" button on my watch. The next 4-5 hours consisted of rotating between riding in the van, walking to exchange points, hitting the porta-pots, munching on junk-food, and lots of hilarity going on inside the van with some very interesting discussions. At one point, we met up with Van 1 for the exchange into the start of the second legs of the race, which meant that we now had another 3-4 hours of free time to do what we wanted. By this time it was nearing 9:30 p.m. so we opted for some dinner before heading off to Danville High School for some shut-eye. Given our mini-van situation, Scott, Patrick and Nick opted to sleep inside the school on their sleeping bags as Lori, Kevin, Jeff and I stayed inside the van to get as comfortable as possible. Between the sounds of vans coming and going from the parking lot, snoring and rustling inside the van, as well as conversations taking place outside by various teams, I was happy to have remembered my ipod. And although the sounds of songs ringing softly in my ears wasn't exactly soothing, it was enough of a distraction from the outside noise to at least get SOME sleep during that short period of time. A 1:00 a.m. wake-up call came much too quickly and we were on the road. The rain had moved in again, and it had gotten a tad cooler than it had previously been. This, coupled with an anticipated second-leg start time of 2:00 a.m. in the pitch black did nothing for my motivation. I tried to resign my position as runner #7 while we were still parked at the school, but my van-mates wouldn't allow it - bastards. All was well as I made my way to the start-line however, and again I took off after being handed the elusive bracelet. Heading into the dark night wasn't nearly as creep-tastic as I had remembered the year prior. And with a runner or two just ahead of me, at least I had something to focus on as I made a straight shot to the end, just 3.5 miles ahead. It was hard to see the Garmin with the lack of light, so I was never able to exactly tell how fast or slow I was going at any given time. I anticipated doing my one-mile-run, one-minute-walk intervals, but after the first mile I was feeling so great both mentally and physically that it wasn't long before I passed the runner that I had started out following. A few hills here and there meant that there was SOME walking when I got a bit fatigued, but overall there were a lot of down-hill as well, and with the "One More Mile To Go" sign past me, I was determined to finish strong. Split times for leg #2: 9:10, 10:00, 10:15 and 9:22 for the last .5 mile. (Side note: I do believe the 9:10 mile is my fastest ever, and now that I know that I am capable of these faster times, I'm questioning if and how the Garmin is affecting my pace). The next 10 hours is a bit of a blur. After getting back into the van, I slept off and on for a long-while, and was too exhausted or cold to get out much and cheer on my van-mates who were running through the night. At some point our van finished their second legs and we all decided on Cracker Barrel for breakfast. I don't feel like I engaged much with my teammates during this time as I truly was utterly tired. We made our way back to the van and ended up at the final exchange point before our final legs. We had at least 2-3 hours to kill, so despite the daylight we all settled in for a little nap. Imagine our surprise and frustration however, when two vans decorated like cows pulled up on either side of us blaring their 80's music and chanting in unison, "free sliders!" Damnit - we already have belly's full of grub, we don't want any free sliders, we just want to sleep for the love of God! They weren't going away however, so we all decided to succumb to the unwelcomed audio assault bestowed upon our ears and get up for the remainder of the day. If there is any one thing I would have to complain about this year, it would be this exchange point. For a major exchange point such as this, where the expectation is you will have up to 800 vehicles coming and going throughout the day, not one porta-pot was to be found. Not. One. How in the heck do you expect 4,800 runners to go to the John with no porta-pots around? Alas, the team made our way back into the van to drive a mile and a half up the road to a gas station for a potty break before I was to be seen off on my third and final leg - a 4.6 miler. We made our way back to the exchange point, but took a short detour to the left into a business parking lot rather than make our way back up to the cluster of vans parked 1/2 mile away (another small complaint). Hyped up on Red Bull, a slight chilly wind blowing in, I was more than ready to get this last leg out of the way. It seemed to take Justin a bit longer than expected to make his way to the exchange, but once I saw his lovely moustached face headed my way, I was prepared for my final run. Heading out at 12:40 p.m. I could definitely feel the effects of the prior 24 hours on my body. I was tired. A few small hills came up during that first mile, but I was determined not to walk this early in the race no matter how worn out my body felt. I crossed over a main road and onto a long stretch of back country asphalt that was beautiful to say the least. I ended up passing one slower runner while offering some words of encouragement when my van-mates crept up behind me in the Chrysler, offering their own brand of support through our affectionately-named megaphone, "Mr. Motivation." Mr. Motivation asked me to "moon" him, while simultaneously asking if I needed anything - such as water or Gatorade. The differences in these two requests had me confused, so I just yelled back, "No, I'm good," hoping that would suffice as an answer to both inquiries. It must have because, soon after, my lovely van 2 patrons scurried along to meet me at the finish. Although I was more tired than I'd been all day at this point, I fell into a zone and the miles seemed to tick away. There were a few small hills here and there, and I passed a few folks within the last half of the run, giving me encouragement to keep going strong. Rounding the last turn I could hear the finish line up ahead and I looked forward to not only the end, but also to the fact that I would not have to run anymore for the rest of the day. This was it, my third and final leg: 10:05, 9:51, 10:41, 9:48 and 10:26 for the last .6 mile. I was so pumped to have achieved this great task that I stayed up and alert the remainder of the day, cheering on my van-mates as they went off and then ran in again on their final legs. The air seemed to be getting a bit chillier as the day went on, and I found myself wrapped up in my fleece blanket as our last two runners went out. Jeff was our #12 runner with a little over 4 miles to go on his final leg, which meant the team had little time to make our way to the finish area, find a place to park, and walk near the finish line in time to all run in together. In the meantime, we had received word that Larry Holt, a runner in Van 1, had become ill sometime after their last legs were ran and they had decided to head back to Louisville to turn in their van and call it a day. This meant that just the seven of us in Van 2 would be crossing the official finish line. We waited around a bit longer than expected before spotting Jeff rounding his last corner towards the home stretch. I can only imagine what a sight we were - seven completely exhausted runners decked out in our own brand of comfort clothing (I was still wrapped in the fleece and was sporting a sweet pair of brown crocs at this point), stumbling across the finish to claim our sub-thirty-hour victory. Overall I had a great time. Not only with my van-mates, but also during the legs of my particular runs. I was definitely faster and feeling better both mentally and physically this year than I had last year. My body is definitely tired today, but I'm not nearly as sore as what I had anticipated. It was great running into other athletes who were on opposing teams throughout the day/night, and sharing a lot of laughs as well as frustrations with my own team. We anticipate The Bourbon Chase being two weeks after the Louisville Ironman next year, and if that is the case, I am hoping to sign up once again and make this an annual tradition. As I said, this is the most fun that I have ever had during a racing event, and it would be nice to keep that up for years to come. Next up: Urban Bourbon half-marathon in 2 weeks!

Great Pumpkin 10k

Went to bed exhausted last night after a long and stressful week of work - tired to the point that I felt like I might be coming down with something. So this morning when I woke up, and it was 20 degrees chillier than it was the previous morning, I told Jim that I was so-not-feeling this race. Donned my running shorts along with a tank top, covered by a long-sleeve tech shirt and hoped for the best as we made our way to Floyds Fork. The walk from the car to the start line was a brisk and chilly half-mile or so, but the sun felt great. Since I haven't been keeping up much running since the Bourbon Derby Half Marathon in June, I was a bit concerned about my performance. The Orange Theory sessions had definitely helped me in that race, but I had also completed the KDF Mini just a month and a half before. Not having a race under my belt for 4 months had me a little worried, and not having run any more than three miles (and even those were interval runs on the treadmill through OTF) I wondered if I could pull off a full 6.2 while maintaining a good attitude. But when the start line went off and I immediately fell into a 10 minute cadence, I had a positive feeling that this could be a good race. I planned to do my normal one mile run / one minute walk routine and felt good about that decision for the first mile and a half. Knowing that there was a steep hill coming up about 2.3 miles in, I decided to run through my mile 2 walk break just in case I had to walk any of the hill. Alas, that was exactly the case when halfway up I took a little break, and then another when I came upon a longer, yet less steep incline just ahead. Coming up on mile three I fell back into a good pace and my spirits were lifted even more when I realized that most of mile 4 would be going back down those dreaded hills. I got into another good groove and opted to walk for a little water stop just around the four and a half mile mark, which is when I looked down to see that I was just over 45 minutes into the race. Doing some math in my head, I realized that I probably couldn't beat my 10k PR of 1:01, but I could pull off a second-best which, considering the aforementioned lack of running, was alright with me. Cresting another small hill I passed mile 5 and was on to the finish. My left knee started bothering me a bit after that, but not enough to really slow me down and I managed to keep running through the discomfort. After passing the 6 mile marker I was ready for the home stretch and came in at a respectable 1:03:33. Although I haven't checked the exact time, I'm fairly certain my previous second-best was around 1:04:15. My splits were: 10:01, 10:09, 11:12, 9:52, 10:14 and 10:13 with a 9:36 pace for that last .2 miles. The fact that I had over a minute negative split, or a negative split at all, is amazing. And looking back at some of my earlier races this year, I've had pretty consistent negative splits, which is something I thought I'd never see. Overall, this was a great race. The course was awesome, the weather was good, and considering the cluster f*ck that it apparently was last year with it being the inaugural race I felt the organization was superb and I will definitely do this race again next year. Next up: The Bourbon Chase in less than one week!

Somtimes You're the Windshield, Sometimes You're the Bug

My sprint tri at the Louisville Landsharks Triathlon this morning was a very humbling experience. I wasn't really nervous until the few seconds prior to the swim start when it dawned on me that I haven't done this in over three years, and haven't even been in the water in the same time period. Donning a wetsuit (the water temp was 75 this morning) and ready for what lie ahead, I was near the beginning of the pack with other triathletes, which included both the sprint and Olympic folks that all went out at the same time. Off we went with Todd Heady's countdown and, surprisingly, the water felt great. I started out with a freestyle stroke that quickly got a lot more tiring than it needed to be this early in the race. I thought I was holding my own, although I was getting passed by many folks, when I looked back about half-way to the turn-around point to see that there were only 3-4 other swimmers behind me. Still, I wasn't too concerned at this point because I know how slow I am, and I wasn't exactly going for a great finishing time anyway - just looking for a finish. At a few points prior to that turn-around though, I can say that I thought about telling the kayakers that I was done for - just take me in and call it a day. Luckily, my pride got the best of me and I muddled through the remainder of the swim. Sometimes I did a backstroke, sometimes a breast stroke, and often times a doggy paddle just to move forward little by little while catching my breath and relieving my already-tired body. I can't tell you how good it felt to finally be within eye-sight of dry land, and the feel of slimy, slick algae on my little pigs never felt so good walking up that boat ramp. I had an official finishing time of 28:31 for the 750 meters. On the way up the ramp to T1 I felt a little dizzy and light-headed, and that stayed with me for a while. I was pretty tired from that first leg, and sitting down to get my wet suit stripped, as well as to slide into my cycling shoes was a welcome little break. I climbed on the bike and off I went, ready for the somewhat-hilly 12-miler when, in anticipation for the upcoming hill, I attempted to get into an easier gear when my shifters malfunctioned. I hadn't made it to the bottom of the hill yet when I turned around and headed back to transition. I saw my boyfriend and started to cry, telling him that, once again, my shifters weren't working and I couldn't do the race while being stuck in a hard gear. We stood there for a minute or two when I decided, "screw it," I was going to at least give it another shot and see what happens. Off I went again, and I at least got a little bit up the hill when my quads and mindset got the best of me again and I climbed off the bike for a second time walking it, once again, back towards transition. I met up with the bf earlier this time though, and broke down sobbing - I had never NOT finished a race before. Dead last? Sure. Twice. But never DNF. I sat on the ground and wailed like a baby feeling totally defeated and frustrated that my bike was not cooperating. Once again, we messed with the gears/shifters a bit more and were finally (hopefully) able to get them in working order. I blew my nose and, still feeling a bit beat, hopped on my noble steed for the third and final time to conquer this darn leg. Up that hill I went and, despite feeling that my heart was going to pound out of my chest, my legs held strong and my motto became "higher cadence, lower energy" as I peddled my way towards the entrance to the park. Turning right onto the main highway I looked down to see that I had about 4.5 miles or so before the turn-around. I felt fairly well throughout this portion of the race, even though I was being passed in the other direction by several triathletes who were well on their way back into the park to complete the run. A few small but not-too-steep hills gave me a bit of a run for my money, but for the most part I felt strong and ready for the run. Turning back into the park I could see several people nearly finished with the run, but several more were just starting and I felt that, despite my setback, I could possibly finish out the race without a dead last place on my record (once again). Final time on the bike: 1:08:19 - I predict that meltdown cost me about 10 minutes or so. T2 took a bit longer than T1 since I had to pull on dry socks over still-wet feet, down a Gu for some energy, and give the bf a quick update on my mental status - better, by the way. I walked out of T2 and decided to walk up that first hill while working out my Jell-O bike legs. Once I began running a bit though, they loosened up and off I went. My cardio was feeling good, legs a bit tired, but overall a decent run. Once again, lots of folks passing me in the other direction, but with the support I was getting along the way with numerous Landsharks cheering me on, I had no doubt that I could finish strong. The turn-around came and as I headed back towards the finish line I remember smiling - something I can't remember doing much during any other race. I even caught up with a fella that ended up doing an Aqua-run due to his own bike malfunction, and we talked a bit to pass the time during our last mile. Cresting that last small hill and curve, the long downhill came into view and I looked forward in anticipation finishing out this experience. Down the parking lot I came, body feeling great and cheers all around as I finally crossed that mat to collect my medal and much-needed bottle of water - a slow and steady 37:53. Overall, despite the bike issues and struggle-laden swim, I had a great race. It gives me a good idea of where I am with each of the three disciplines and how much work I'm going to need over the next year to complete Ironman. If anything, I need some good coaching on my swim, to get stronger on the bike, and to know that I have plenty of people that will be out there to support me on race day. I'm definitely one of those people that require much kudos and validation to get those mental blocks out of the way. Official finishing time overall: 2:19:24. Not great, but definitely better than the millions of people who decided to sleep in this morning! :)

Urban Bike Adventure

It was a chilly morning when I woke up and let the dogs out as I thought, "Man, if it's this cold at the beginning of September, how cold will it be for my Ironman in October next year?" Never fear, IMLOU is more than a year away and I had more important things to worry about this morning - like getting to Bicycle Sport to get a new battery for my long-dead bike computer, making a quick detour before heading downtown to get a long-sleeve shirt for the race since all I had brought was a tank top, and convincing myself that, despite the cool breeze in the air and having biked no more than 10.7 miles in the past year or more, I could actively compete in this downtown bike race. Ah yes, the Urban Bike Adventure. This would be mine and Alicia's third consecutive year doing this race, and typically find ourselves early-registrants due to the good times that we've had in the past. Not to mention that some friends of ours, Bill and Lisa (aka Team Nowax), have also competed in the race the past three years and we've since had a friendly little competition going on with these two. 2012 was only the second year that the race was held in Louisville, so it proved to be rather small. I'd say 20-30 teams of 2-4 people. The size, mixed with mine and Alicia's competitive nature, meant that we took home a second place overall win, as well as the first-place female-only team win in 2012. Last year the race was A LOT larger, and looked to be inundated with more kids and families, however, the distance that we had to bike (going from Downtown to Cherokee Park to Germantown and back to 4th Street Live again) must have scared some folks off because for 2014, we were back down to maybe 20-30 teams tops. Shortly after arriving and signing in we met up with Bill and Lisa to get in our annual "smack talk." They finished before us last year, so today's race was to be the tie-breaker for our two teams. The premise of the race: Each team gets a sheet of clues, which you have to decipher and then bike around town collecting photographic proof that you have either visited or achieved each challenge. A few examples of this years race were to convince random strangers to 1) strike the Heisman trophy pose, 2) play "war" with Alicia and I, 3) give either one of us a piggy-back ride, and 4) engage in a fake kung-fu fight. Beyond this, the challenges that my team-mate and I had to conquer were to take pictures at various locations around town such as The Brown Hotel, The Lincoln statue on the Riverfront, the Desert Storm memorial in Jeffersonville and Vernon Lanes Bowling Alley just to name a few. We also had to take video of us singing the Big Mac theme song in front of an actual McDonald's restaurant. Good times. Most of these challenges we took care of right away, as the folks we passed on the street were more than accommodating to our strange requests. This means we knocked out half the list before even getting a mile down the road. Our Achilles heel during the first part of the race was trying to figure out where the Desert Storm Memorial was. Neither of us had heard of it, and Google wasn't much help (yes, you can use any source to help figure out the clues). So we continued to head to the places we were sure of, hoping that we weren't unknowingly passing by this memorial in the interim. And this is where Alicia and I differ on strategy. She likes to hurriedly figure out the clues and haul-ass to the site regardless of if we know for sure where everything else is. I like to calmly take my time, figure it all out, and logistically plan where we should bike so that we're not constantly back-tracking. After making our way to the Big Four Bridge for a ridiculous cookie challenge (after each of us carrying a golf ball on a tee held in our hands for probably 50 feet, either of us had to get an Oreo from our forehead to our mouth without using our hands - just as hard as it sounds, BTW), we peddled to Jeffersonville to get a pic with a candy store before heading back to the 'Ville and up River Road to Frankfort Ave. and over to Story Ave. to "strike" a pose in front of Vernon Lanes. It was only here, after getting some much-needed and kind assistance from another team, that we found out that the memorial is, in fact, in Jeffersonville. So guess who's going across the Big Four Bridge for the second time that day? At this point we had only biked 6 miles, so it wasn't that big of a deal, but the fact that we were still trying to beat Bill and Lisa, coupled with the hills that we would have to bike up, yet again, on both sides of the bridge, tarnished my momentum just a bit. As I made my way onto the Louisville side of the bridge I saw that our frenemies had just begun the "cookie challenge." Not knowing if they had already made their way over to Indiana or not, I hauled butt up the curved structure for my second Jeffersonville visit. By the time Alicia caught up with me just 30-45 seconds later I had still not figured out where this place was. To top it off, while looking around I spot Bill coming off the bridge with Lisa falling in not far behind. Luckily, the four of us put our heads together and biked along the Jeffersonville waterfront to eventually find, salute, and photograph our respective teams in front of the memorial. Making our way back, Bill and Lisa thought we were kidding when we said we had already gotten our picture at the candy store, so their surprise when we made our way back onto the bridge was an astounding "Oh!" With only one more monument to visit, Alicia and I were feeling pretty good that we would win back both our title, and bragging rights, from Team Nowax. Making our way back across the bridge, Alicia spotted our target and we quickly made our way over to a statue of Abraham Lincoln for one last click and then back to Fourth Street Live. Still not knowing for sure where Bill and Lisa were in their quest, we maneuvered our way through downtown traffic trying not to get hit, and found ourselves pulling up to the Sports and Social Club in no time. We got checked in and showed our lovely photos to the official, then stuck around outside to cheer Team Nowax in. When it was all said and done all of us agreed it was a great time. We all enjoyed the race being smaller again this year, and as the weather warmed up and the "catching up" commenced over the unhealthiest of lunches, it turned out to be a great day for an awesome race. Alicia and I ended up coming in 6th overall, while Bill and Lisa took home a 10th place win. Regardless of place or finishing time, this is a really fun race that combines some of my favorite ways to spend a weekend afternoon: biking, racing, laughter, friendly competition, and memories. Until next year....

Pre-Training Begins

I managed my first bike ride in over a year today and I must say, although there are certain parts of it that I love, it was not without its struggles. Firstly, I have never been hugely knowledgeable about how to work the gears. For instance, I simply go by "feel" rather than knowing exactly what gear to be in during a downhill, uphill, flat surface, etc. So as I climbed my first big hill visions of my second Olympic-distance tri flashed before my eyes. You know, the one where I couldn't get enough momentum going up the steep hill and became increasingly slower over time to the point that gravity took over and I dumped myself off my bike, ego and all? Yeah....so..... as I was making my way up this hill today I started messing with my gears and, unknowingly until it was too late, found myself in the hardest gear imaginable, mashing my pedals just to keep up enough speed to get up this darn thing. At one point I really thought I was going to fall over - and right in front of a golfer nonetheless. But alas, determination and quad-strength prevailed and I was able to crest the hill and finally catch my breath as well as a small break - able to change gears in the process. As I rounded the corner onto a long stretch of flat land I attempted to mess with the gears again, however, I found that they wouldn't budge at all. Neither one. So now I'm stuck in a relatively easy gear (again, I couldn't tell you what rig (derailer?) the chain was in because I'm a total dunce when it comes to bicycle anatomy - full disclosure, I just Googled "parts of a bicycle" to find that word "derailer"), but suffice it to say the remaining hills were relatively easy to maneuver, while my cadence on the flats was now much faster than it needed to be as my torque was too much for this easier gear. I decided to continue on though since I was only a few miles into my ride at this point (Oh yeah, the battery for my bike computer had also gone kaput over the last year so I could only guess how far I'd gone or what my mph was). Coming out of a relatively flat part of the park I could have turned left and headed home, giving me about a 5-6 mile ride, or go straight and muster up the strength (both mental and physical) to conquer the rather large hills I knew were lying in wait like a soccer-mom at the Grand Opening of a Starbucks. Surprisingly one of my nemesis hills ("Dog Hill" for those of you familiar with Cherokee Park) was rather easy to climb and I felt nice and accomplished when I found myself at the top. The long, steadily-inclining path up to Hogan's Fountain wasn't bad either, but I found my heart-rate took a little longer to slow back down by the time I completed that doozy. As I made my way back towards the final home stretch I found myself feeling optimistic about this ride, as well as the upcoming triathlon in a few weeks. It seems like I have to get past the first 5 miles or so before my body gets used to the ride and then I'm fairly comfortable and confident after that. It's the same with running and swimming too. As long as I get past the first 3-4 miles of a run, I'm good. Prior to that my entire body feels like lead and I question my ability to go on. And as soon as I get into a good groove swimming laps in the pool, I feel like I could swim all day. Slowly, of course, but endurance is what I'm going for here, ya dig? Anyway...back to the bike ride. I turned my last corner onto PeeWee Reese to head back towards Taylorsville Road and ultimately home when I came upon my last two hills. The first one was a killer. Of course I knew it was coming as I had just come down the backside of the darn thing not 40 minutes prior - but the fairly steep grade was still enough to take my breath away and grip my chest like a vice. The second wasn't nearly so bad and I recall being thankful that everything from then on out was a straight, flat ride in. After logging my route on Map My Ride I discovered that I had accomplished 10.75 miles. (I had to stop myself from typing "a mere 10.75 miles" just now since I'm trying to not be so hard on myself and at least give myself SOME credit for starting over somewhere.) As I've written in the previous post, the triathlon in two weeks calls for a 12 mile bike, so getting out and doing this mileage after not being out for a year, and managing to do it with some killer hills at that, gives me a sense of confidence that I can do this thing - even if my legs did feel like Jell-O afterwards. So on the agenda for the coming weeks - get the bike looked at to find out what's going on with the gears, get at least 3-4 swims in to get used to the water and working on my form, and have fun doing the Urban Bike Adventure next Saturday (three years running) with my bestie Alicia.

Going All Out (Or In?)

So I've been thinking about getting back into triathlons for a while. I enjoy the long distance running, but I didn't (don't) want to stop doing tri's altogether because I really did enjoy them when I was competing - three years ago. Yes, it was May 2011 when I completed my last tri. I had come in dead-last (again) in my third Olympic-distance race, and I think I just decided that training for long-distance running was less time consuming. I hadn't trained well for that last race, which probably contributed to my last-place finish (actually, last place never bothered me much - just being out there doing it was always enough. Besides, I got the same medal as the first place guy, right?) But after reading, seeing, hearing about all of my Louisville Landshark buddies competing in the Ironman Louisville race this year, I decided that it was encouragement enough for me to get back out there. So.... just so happens that the Landsharks are putting on a Sprint/Oly race in a few weeks and I'm already signed up. You see, I'm one of those people that will not get out there and run/bike/swim if I'm not signed up for, and need to actually train for anything specific. (Well, let's be honest - in the not-so-distant past I wouldn't even train for events I was signed up for, I would just go out there on race day and wing it. Something I don't recommend, by the way). But, with my newfound enthusiasm I signed up for the sprint distance race (750 meter swim, 12 mile bike, 5k run) and am gonna get out there and do my best. I feel I've already got a pretty good base going with my Orange Theory workouts, so the run is the least of my worries. I haven't, however, been on my bike in a year and even then only got one ride in. But, again, with OTF under my belt I figure a couple of rides out on the bike between now and race day will be plenty to get me prepared for that 12-miler. Now the swim.....well.... that's a little more complicated. I seriously cannot remember doing any lap swimming since that last triathlon more than three years ago. I still have the concept down - I mean, I remember what I'm SUPPOSED to do - I just haven't done it. So, I went to Mary T. today and got a punch-card for 12 visits, of which I'll probably utilize two per week leading up to the race. All of this combined, I'm pretty confident that I can pull this off. Again, I will not be, and don't expect to be, the fastest gal out there. And if I do happen to come in dead last once again - so be it. I mean, I gotta start back somewhere, right? Besides, it's the perfect comeback race for what I'll be enduring in another 13 months. Ironman Louisville. Yes kids, you read that right. I am planning on (Oh hell, what do I mean "planning" on? I have actually SIGNED UP/REGISTERED for Ironman Louisville.) This will be my first full Ironman distance race. I plan on doing a few Olympics beforehand to get prepared, and maybe even a half-Iron distance as well. I'd like to (and hear that it's beneficial) to get a few Century rides in on the bike beforehand - something I know I'll need if not for physical fitness than for mental preparedness of being on a bike for 6-7 hours. I'm pretty pumped about it at this point, and although I've struggled with just the marathon portion of this race in the past, I feel that proper training and drive will go a long way. Besides, I do have a full 13 months to train - the first 7 of which will probably be more or less building a better base with which to start off my REAL training in April. So, without further ado - let the tri training commence!