What I Learned From the Kinetic Half

It’s been a busy 11 days since the Kinetic Half, but in the back of my head I know I’ve been mulling over my lessons learned from last weekend. So that I don’t forget, I know I need to write them down and re-visit them later this summer.

1. Early season long-course isn’t for me. As much as I love the heat, I hate the cold even more and just don’t do enough training during the winter to be ready for long endurance events that early in the year. Also, not having time to acclimatize to the warmth sucks and makes me like the heat a lot less than I normally do.

2. Train more during the off season. Duh. I’ve now got all the cold weather gear that a girl could need – so absolutely zero excuses not to get my butt out the door on the bike or in my running shoes on just about any day of the year.

3. Don’t forget to practice your nutrition. As a corollary to not doing enough long rides, that also meant I didn’t get to practice my race nutrition.

4. Remember that it’s okay to pee on the bike. I probably lost 3 or 4 minutes because for some reason I felt the need to get off my bike and find a bush rather than just going on the fly.

4. On the plus side, I learned that even in my dark places, I can still recognize those times as simply temporary darkness rather than true failure. In this way, I can hopefully remember that I can pull myself through to the other side rather than giving in and living with a DNF. The body can do more than the mind thinks it can.

5. Get a swim coach or start attending masters swim sessions. I’ve made improvements on my own, and I have much greater comfort in open water. But I’m still way too slow, and I don’t think I’ll improve any further without a coach to help my technique.

6. Relying on the strength of others can be huge in a tough situation. Stuart’s presence meant the world to me, as did the cheering and support of other spectators and athletes. But even those friends and family not there were part of my motivation. Bringing to mind specific names and faces, and knowing that these were people cheering for me, or just people I’d have to face with either success or failure, was a huge part of my ability to keep moving.

In the midst of the race, I was questioning the whys. But less than two weeks later, as I look at the tan lines and watch the final bits of chafing fade, I’m thinking back nostalgically to it and looking forward to the next one!

Vote for a Girl on the Run!

I don't know her personally, but Bailey is a member of Girls on the Run in Washington State. She is also a finalist for this year's Youth Achievement Award, presented in conjunction with ESPN's Espy Awards. You can vote for her once per day between now and June 15th.

Vote early vote often....what a great opportunity for Bailey and an incredible public awareness opportunity for Girls on the Run nationwide!

http://promo.espn.go.com/espn/specialsection/kelloggs09/

Kinetic Half Race Report

Third half ironman done, and never before have I ever questioned why I do triathlons and whether it’s really fun. The Kinetic Half was on May 9th at Lake Anna State Park here in Virginia. Going into the race, I was already a bit nervous. I’ve worked on my swim, and done more running than before my previous halfs, but the unpleasant spring weather really limited the time I spent outside on my bike in the last two months. I’d already been joking that Lesson Number One would be “no early season long-course races”. That lesson came across loud and clear.

Friday night I basically didn’t sleep. The alarm was set for 2:45, but I was awake at midnight, I was awake at 1:30am. Maybe I got 90min of sleep total. Not ideal, but I slept well on Thursday night so hopefully I’d survive. The morning’s oatmeal didn’t sit well, and my iPod broke inexplicably, so before even leaving the house at 4am things were already a little off. On the plus side, the thunderstorms the weatherman had been predicting hadn’t materialized, so the rain maybe wouldn’t be as much of a factor as I’d feared (little did I know).

Shake it off, and arrived at Lake Anna by about 5:30. Plenty of time to get bodymarked, set up transition and hand off my transition bag to Stuart to keep the area clean (a mistake I’d pay for later), and get in a quick warm up in the lake before my wave started the 2-loop swim. The water was perfect – in my wetsuit, 68 degrees felt comfortable. I think I may have also finally gotten over my panic in the swim. I’m still not thrilled with swimming, but was able to stay calm and felt like my form wasn’t horrible. Clearly, I’m still not fast though, it may be time to start going to some Masters swim sessions since I’m not improving on my own. 43:29 (10/13 in my AG).

The last few hundred meters of the swim I was feeling queasy, and as I ran to T1, I told Stuart that I thought I might puke. In fact, I was pretty surprised that I didn’t. I tossed my wetsuit towards Stuart and the dogs, took a minute to get my bearings and was off on my ride. T2 3:35 (7/13AG).
The bike was a two loop rolling course. Some awesome downhills where I hit 30mph, but some long grinding uphills in a headwind where literally I was going 8mph a few times. For about the first 45min I was regularly sipping my Infinit and taking in water, but my stomach still wouldn’t settle. Maybe I’d mixed it too strong, but I also think I was going too hard on the bike and just didn’t realize it at the time. I gave up on the Infinit and stuck with water and Clif Shot Bloks. This was the price I paid for not having done sufficient bike training in the crappy weather this winter and spring. I didn’t see too many women, and so wasn’t sure if I was so far behind everyone, or (more unlikely) if I somehow managed a decent swim and was towards the front of the pack. Looking at results later, I really was in a “no woman’s land” with most women either much faster swimmers, or much slower cyclists than me.

The second loop started to wear on me and I found myself wondering what if I quit. I mean, sooner or later everyone is bound to get a flat tire or DNF, right? What if today was my time? This was the start of my descent into the darkest place I’ve ever been in an athletic event. Finally, the bike was over and I was back in transition. My mental state was still a mess, but I’d done pretty well considering the winds, the poor pacing, and my struggle to get in sufficient nutrition. 3:19:42, 16.8mph average (6/13 in AG)

Now for the run. My earlier mistake in cleaning up my transition area cost me. Instead of rain, the sun had emerged, and my sunscreen was back in the car so I have some vicious burns on my shoulders and forehead. As I left T2 – FIRST IN MY AGE GROUP, BABY!!! (1:41, 1/13AG) – I was hating life. Leaving transition was a long uphill and Stuart was waiting with the dogs. I stopped in front of him, gasping for air on the verge of fully hyperventilating. I told him I wanted to quit, that I really thought I couldn’t do it, and that there wasn’t enough time anyway since I’d be walking the whole thing and would DNF, but he convinced me to do “just one lap”.

It was scary. The heat index was 89 degrees by midday. I walked the uphills, shuffle-ran the flats and downhills and kept trying to push myself out of the darkness. I told myself that I didn’t want to face my friends, colleagues, and Girls on the Run girls if I quit. I thought of how ashamed I'd be. I told myself that I was only feeling this way because I was bonking, but that I could do it. I finally managed to realize that my math was wrong, and even if I DID walk the whole thing, there would still be time to finish, and so since I was doing some running I knew I’d be fine. That helped. With that first lap under my belt, the hyperventilating and crying went away, and then it was just time to push through. Stuart and the dogs were there waiting for me again at the end of each lap – although Joe decided to take a quick swim in the lake rather than greeting his mom!

The run was a death march. I have never seen so many people walking in a race like that. We’ve had such a cool and rainy spring, no one was prepared for the amount of sunshine and heat and humidity. I gulped water and coke at every aid station, stuffed my shirt and shorts with ice (lovely chafing in all sorts of special places as a result), and swallowed salt tablets whenever they offered them. With a little more than half a mile to go, I suddenly cried out in pain, as my posterior tibialis finally got the best of me. I was frustrated as another woman in my AG passed me with less than 300yds to go, but I couldn’t complain as it had held out for over 12-1/2miles. I gimped to the finish, never so happy to be done with a race in my life! Run time of 2:51:07 (9/13). My final time was 6:59:31 (7/13 in my Age Group).

Part of me is disappointed. Although my bike training was lacking this spring, I have a solid base, and I’ve worked hard on my swim and run, which clearly wasn’t reflected here. On the other hand, now that I see the results and realize that I was solidly mid-pack, I guess I can’t complain. The wind on the bike. The heat and humidity on the run. No one was prepared for any of it and we all suffered together.

I’ll be spending the next few days thinking about how to structure my summer training to fix some of the glaring weaknesses. I need some swim lessons. I need more time on my bike on hilly roads as opposed to just the W&OD. And of course any time I spend running is goodness. This was scary. I’m re-thinking my readiness for an Ironman next year – especially one as hot and humid as IM Louisville – but I know there’s time to make that decision. But, as much as I hate the pit I found myself in during that race, I’m also proud that I conquered it. I didn’t quit. The mental training and the visualizations are helping. Feeling crappy and at the same time identifying it for what it was, and thereby tricking myself into keeping moving, was something I couldn’t have done a few years ago. I suppose it’s all part of the process. It’s why I do this – growing, knowing what I’m capable of, and maybe just maybe having some fun in the process.

3 Days and Counting...

It's taper time. The water is 68 degrees. I'm stopping by the LBS to pick up a fresh batch of Clif Shot Bloks. I'll be making up my bottle of Infinit and putting the speedlaces on my running shoes tomorrow. I had a pre-race massage yesterday after work. Most importantly, I haven't figured out whether to sport the DC Tri gear or the rockin' pink SkirtSports attire. I know that whatever work I've put in over the last few months is done. I'm now less than 72hrs from execution.

My emotions are running from nervous to scared to calm to confident and back again. This is my first triathlon since last July at IM Rhode Island 70.3. And while I've put in more swimming and running time in preparation for this race than last year, I feel less prepared for the bike, which is normally my strength. The hours I have spent on my Orbea, including this weekend's ride with Billy, have felt good, just not enough to be walking into a half iron.

But there's no turning back. Stuart's driving down with me to cheer me on during the day. I feel bad making him do that, but will appreciate him making the 70mile drive back home so I can stretch out and sleep.

How do pros do this? I wonder if taper and prepping mentally for a race ever gets any easier, or even just gets routine. We've had some rain every day for over a week at this point, so I've spent lots of time indoors worrying about whether I'm ready, and knowing that if I'm not, it's too late to change it. Monday night though, I had a dream in which I was swimming strong, biking with power, and running upright and smiling. So I'm trying to do some visualization exercises this week to prepare myself. If I can dream it, I can perform it, right?

Water Watch #2

Yahoo! Thank goodness for some 90 degree days. As of today Lake Anna is up to 67 degrees. Still chilly, but definitely wetsuit comfortable. The next week unfortunately is in the 60s and 70s as opposed to 70s/80s, so it's unlikely to get much warmer. But this is much better news than the originally icy fears.

Now the bad news....10 day forecast is calling for rain on race day.

Aren't Swimming Pools for Swimming?

Got to the pool yesterday afternoon to find an interesting and unusual assortment of characters. The "baby pool" was filled with probably 8 or 10 not petite, non-English speaking adult men playing water basketball. Okaaayyy. So that probably explains why one of the lanes of the regular pool is filled with screaming, splashing kids. There were four other lanes for swimming at the time, all of them occupied with 1-2 people, so Stuart hopped in there. The last lane is reserved for (primarily kids') swim lessons, but the swim instructor likes me so she lets me share the lane.

Start swimming and after about 20min I almost run into the backside of an elderly woman. WTF? "Um, ma'am? I'm here, and because of the swim lesson we can't circle swim so you need to change lanes." She harumphs, but leaves the pool. The coach thanks me, since this lady has apparently done this before. Next time I see her she has again slid into another lane without notifying the existing swimmers, and is again slowly slowly slowly bobbing her way down the lane. Unfortunately, she happened to choose Stuart's lane. sorry, honey!

Only a few minutes more pass and it's time for the dreaded water aerobics. That's right. A dozen or so women bobbing up and down in place claim ownership of three lanes of the pool. We usually try to time our workouts to be done or close to done before this happens, both because the principle of water aerobics annoys us and because it means only two lanes are available for swimming. But....don't forget all those screaming, splashing kids. They now run over and jump in one of the two available lanes....where three women are already trying to do their workouts! I finally stop swimming to watch the carnage. At this point, there are now SIX adults swimming in one lane, 4 kids playing in one lane, a dozen or so "aerobics" people, and me in the instruction lane. I got a bit more of my workout done, but to be honest, Stuart couldn't take it so I agreed to leave with him.

Needless to say, I'll be talking to the pool management today. Seriously, why are we paying for access to a swimming pool if swimming is the activity that the management seems least interested in accommodating? The poor onsite manager is just a teenager - she was ill equipped to get the adults out of the baby pool and the kids out of a lap lane. I struggle as it is to get myself to the pool and try to pretend that I enjoy it. Why do they have to conspire to make it that much tougher?

Pollen & the Ride from Hell

Stuart and I were supposed to do the Howard County Life Festival 100K on Sunday. But apparently we forgot to sign up, and by the time we got online on Saturday it was full. oops. I was looking at the bright side, I really wanted another long ride on my Orbea, so we could do 60 ourselves on the trail. By the time we left the house at about 10:20a.m. it was already 80 degrees. I'd smeared myself all over with sunscreen to avoid a repeat of last week's sunburn.

I was feeling good as we neared Reston when my eyes began to act up from the pollen and dryness. And that was the story for the rest of the day. Ride a few miles until my eyes started to swell shut and then pull over. Clean the contacts, sit with my eyes closed and let them water. Stopping at every water fountain to flush my eyes with fresh cold water. It was horrible. Absolutely horrible. I made it to Smith's Switch which meant my ride would be about 44miles roundtrip. Decent, but not ideal. While sitting there wishing I could be magically transported home, I got a text from Stuart that he had made it to Leesburg and was turning around. That was incentive to start moving, trying to maybe stay ahead of him the whole trip back.

That second half was a mix of emotions and feelings. When I got moving, I was really hauling. Pulling a few other girls on bikes at over 19mph. And then my eyes would act up, and I'd pull off to the side again. I was feeling low on energy, my morale was low, and I don't think it was a nutrition thing. It was more about the amount of time and energy that I was pouring into my eyes and keeping them open while on the trail.

I beat Stuart home by only about 5minutes. Once inside, I popped out my contacts and wore my glasses the rest of the day. And as someone who HATES her glasses, that means it was bad. They were still swollen and sore at bedtime.

Now starting taper week, and rather than feeling confident going into this race in two weeks, I'm scared. Already a lesson learned that early season long-course might not be for me, but still uneasy that I'm not ready at all. We'll see.

On a more promising note, the warmer weather is paying off. Lake Anna is up to a balmy 61 degrees!

The Lessons of Susan Boyle

As I was reading CNN.com this morning, I came upon a commentary by Peter Bregman about the “Britain’s Got Talent” performer, Susan Boyle. When I finally broke down and clicked on the You Tube link last week, I found myself overwhelmed. There’s been tons of news coverage over the last few weeks, but reading his column today, I think he summed up very eloquently my thoughts. I’m condensing and excerpting the pieces of it that touch me the most (you can read the entire column here).

“Susan Boyle, who recently performed on the U.K. television show "Britain's Got Talent," has captured the world's attention …. She wasn't painfully ordinary; she was amazingly extraordinary. The audience immediately jumped to a standing ovation and stayed there until the end of the song. The YouTube video of Susan's performance has, as of Tuesday, received more than 35 million views…..

But there's something else Susan Boyle awakens in us as we watch her come out of her shell: our own selves. Who among us does not move through life with the hidden sense, maybe even quiet desperation, that we are destined for more? That underneath our ordinary exterior lays an extraordinary soul? That given the right opportunity, the right stage, the right audience, we would shine as the stars we truly are?

That promise underlies most successful advertising campaigns: the desire to transform from caterpillar to butterfly. Maybe if you buy that (fill in the blank), people will see you for the sophisticated, cool, gorgeous, talented, lovable person you know you really are. But in our less desperate moments, we know we can't purchase that transformation. Although Susan Boyle became an overnight sensation, hers was not an overnight transformation. She's been practicing singing since she was 12. In her case, overnight was 35 years.

It's easy to admire Susan. But it's far more interesting to be transformed by her. "There is grace," a friend recently wrote to me, "in being molded by your own gifts."

To allow yourself to be molded by your own gifts takes courage. You have to be willing to stand there, exposed and authentic, while the audience rolls their eyes at you and sneers, expecting failure. And then, of course, you have to fail, laugh or cry, and keep going until, one day, they stop laughing and start clapping.

But you can't do it alone….If we're lucky, we have parents who encourage us. Nothing really replaces a mother or father who believes in you. But even if you don't have parents who believe in you, it's important to have someone. Someone you trust, enough that when they offer criticism, you know it's to draw you out more fully, not shut you down even partially….

Susan Boyle is a phenomenal role model for all of us, not just because of her talent or her courage or her perseverance or her supportive friends. She is a phenomenal role model for us because she is us, in all our awkward ordinariness and amazing extraordinariness.”

To me, Peter Bregman captured what I was feeling but unable to express as I watched the video and found the music sticking in my head the rest of the day. Whether we dare to dream big or simply just survive the day-to-day of our offices, classrooms, neighborhoods and worlds, we need courage. Courage, plus the love and support of those around us, lets us move mountains. Maybe not immediately or in hugely visible ways, but bit by bit moving ourselves closer to the person we want to be.

This week with my Girls on the Run we talked about standing up for ourselves, expressing our own feelings, and learning how to evaluate and make good decisions. Heavy stuff for 8 and 9-year olds. But listening to their reactions to the games and questions I posed, they seemed to get it. It’s scary to be yourself, to refuse to surrender to the will of the cliques around you, and to learn to listen and trust that little voice inside. And yet they were articulating that they know it will only get harder as they get older, that the choices will be even tougher. My hope for each of them is not that they will be guffawing in the audience, but instead on the stage of life with their heads held high and the joy of living a real and honest life shining through them.

Race Rehearsal

Today was just gorgeous! Sunny and warm with highs in the 70s by midday. After a morning trip to the nursery to buy some compost and a holly bush for the front yard, it was time to hit the trail (no flowers, since Monday night there is the tiniest chance for frost). Unbelievably, considering I have a half ironman in only three weeks, today was my first day with the tri bike on the trail instead of the trainer. At first I was nervous -- what if I'd forgotten how to ride him? But I settled in easily. And apparently the winter core work paid off, since although my shoulders and back are sore today, I didn't really struggle too much with the aero position. What I had forgotten though, was the difference in pressure points in my "sit region". Ouch. I'll definitely need some Vaseline on hand for the run to help insure the chafing and swelling doesn't worsen during the half marathon.

On our first attempt to leave the house, I realized about 2miles in that I hadn't lubed my chain, and I could hear the raspiness as it scraped against the gears and derailleur, so we turned around. The second time leaving the house, somehow we made different turns off our street and got separated. Twenty minutes later, thanks to the cellphone of some girls holding a bakesale on the side of the trail, we connected again. Finally we reconnected, and settled in for the afternoon. It was a pretty ride, and surprisingly the trail wasn't too crowded. At one point I found myself getting discouraged, and contemplated pulling out of the race. After all, this early season thing is harder than I thought. Before voicing that idea, I convinced myself to drink a little more, suck down some Infinit and push ahead. We stopped at about the half way point to pose for a quick photo before heading for home. Luckily I was in a much better state of mind once the nutrition took hold. We realized at the stop how salty my skin was -- the air was dry so my sweat was evaporating immediately, making me unaware of how dehydrated I was. One potential explanation for that drop in mood and energy a while back.

On our way back home, we stopped at the same bake sale. They were packing up by that point, but I'd promised we'd stop and buy something as a thank you for helping us earlier. All they had left were two gooey lemon bars. I bought one -- it tasted like lemon pie with a crumbly top. Yum! And much better than another gel or two before the transition run waiting for me at home. Finally, we were done. 52miles in 3:15 for a 16mph average. Not bad considering all the stops and starts at intersections.

I SO didn't feel like running for 50-60min, but I'll have to run longer than that in a few weeks, so I wouldn't be doing myself any favors by skipping out on it. A quick change into a fresh pair of shorts, strapped on the Fuel Belt, and I was out the door with Nick. Stuart had expected that I would get a mile or two in, and was encouraging me to aim for three.


Instead, I picked a painfully slow pace (still not slow enough to be Z1-2 as the plan called for), but ran the entire 5miles with a happy happy dog at my side. By late afternoon, the trail was actually a lot busier, lots of couples walking with strollers or small children, and still a decent number of cyclists. I kept wanting to make excuses for my snail's pace, but realized that no one was paying attention to me except for me.

A little less than an hour later, we were home. Both of us tired and panting, but happy. Hmm, they say no headphones on the race course, but I don't recall anything specifically banning dogs. Maybe Nick could join me??

Water watch has begun...

25 or so days until the Kinetic Half. I check online the water temps at Lake Anna. As of yesterday, they are still a charmingly chilly 55 degrees. brrr....

Wildlife

Not exactly the most pleasantly warm weather for an Easter weekend. I'm getting worried that the lake is going to be FREEZING in four weeks if the weather doesn't heat up soon. 1.2miles in sub-60 degree water is going to suck in a big way.

Anyway, despite the odd weather patterns, I managed to get in 2-1/2hrs of riding on Saturday and a 1+hr run on Easter Sunday morning. Billy and I headed out on Saturday in the gray drizzly rain, riding down to Georgetown to watch one of his classmates in a crew regatta. Thet rails were definitely slick with water and magnolia and cherry blossom petals, so speed wasn't exactly a factor.

We got back to the house, where Billy called it quits (he had a concert to go to) and Stuart and I headed west on the trail for another 90min or so. Eventually the rain stopped and the sun even came out, although the temps were still only about 60 degrees. The weather is wacky, but the animals are clearly all coming out of their winter hidey-holes. Bright red cardinals were everywhere. Stuart pulled off the side of the trail at one point to help a box turtle get safely across the road. While we were pulled over, we realized that our tires were covered in worm bits. As if that wasn't gross enough, as we rode through Vienna we saw a dead, mostly smooshed rat lying in the middle of the trail. GROSS!!! How it ended up there, dead and smooshed, is beyond me. But it was totally disgusting.

Yesterday morning was Easter. I knew the day would be busy cooking and entertaining -- Billy and his girlfriend were here, as were our niece and her fiance. So I grabbed Nick and we slipped out of the house at 7am. Easy recovery pace for 65 minutes before getting home and showering for Mass. Dinner ended up being a re-creation of the meal we learned to cook in Florence in cooking school back in 2001, and that we cooked as our first Easter meal together. Slight modifications, but basically the same. yummy! And lucky for us, we have leftovers for tonight. Even better!

Ended the afternoon watching the Ironman 70.3 World Championships special on NBC back-to-back with Vs' showing of Paris-Roubaix. LOVED IT ALL!!!

And the season begins

My first triathlon is still a little over a month away, but my first race of the season was this morning. We've done the Cherry Blossom Ten Miler for the past four or five years. The last two years I pushed hard, and achieved a PR both times - even if last year was only by a measly 3 seconds. This year I was truly approaching this as a training run.

We biked to packet pickup yesterday, and now I understand why I've never headed to the Tidal Basin to see the cherry blossoms. The crush of people was absolutely overwhelming. Thousands of people, cars in gridlock. Bikes were really the only option, it would have taken hours to drive down there. We didn't even bother to stop and snap the requisite romantic photo under a tree - we just wanted to get out of there.

No neighbors to run it with us this year so Stuart and I caught the metro together at 6:30. We were both sporting our Girls on the Run hats, and ended up talking with a woman about how to start the program at her school in Falls Church. A few others standing near us were listening and one apparently works with a fellow Board member. Mission accomplished before the race even started -- to raise awareness of the program and generate some interest.

It was a picture perfect morning to run a race. Beautiful sunshine, temp right around 50 at the start, and the cherry blossoms were in total bloom. Stuart and I were in different waves, so as is our tradition, kissed each other goodbye and promised to be safe and healthy. I took a quick picture before he slipped away.

The Girls on the Run theme continued, as the woman I coached with my very first season was just a few places behind me in the porta-potty line! It was great to see her and chat. And then I was in my corral. No heart rate monitor, just a promise to myself that this was not a race. It was a training run for the Kinetic Half.

The gun sounded and I was off. And almost from the start I was in my own world. I'd say more than half the field had iPods, even though they were forbidden, so there wasn't much conversation anyways. I watched for Stuart the few times that the field doubled back on itself, but never did see him.

The first mile I hit at 10:04, good but frankly not slow enough. I dialed it back a tiny bit and kept moving. But one after the other, the miles still hovered around 10:30. I could live with that as a solid mid-distance aerobic pace! Guess all those tough =PR= runs are paying off. My posterior tib started acting up around mile 5, but good karma came to my rescue. A woman about 8ft ahead of me dropped her sunglasses. Almost without breaking stride, I picked them up, passed them to the guy between us who handed them back to her. And miraculously the pain subsided for awhile!

But I realized today that the best way to stave off the discomfort is to run off-road. Whenever possible, I ran on the grassy berms instead of the road. Thank goodness Hains Point was the last three miles of the race instead of the first three. Running on the grass made a huge difference in my ability to keep moving. I walked two water stations for about 20 seconds to grab water (it warmed up quickly this morning) and stopped once to stretch. But before I knew it, I could see the Washington Monument and passed that 9mile point. This was a training run, so I didn't increase my speed but just kept steady as I crossed the finish line and slowed to a walk. 1:46:13. I'm happier with that than I was with last year's PR where I felt like I'd worked so hard for just three seconds. Today showed my aerobic pace has increased. If I can hold that for 13.1 miles in May, I'll be so stoked!

I hopped the metro home - coincidentally the same one Stuart was on just in a separate car (he'd waited at the finish line for me, contrary to our initial plans). A short while later, our "showering optional" post party meant a house full of sweaty estrogen as a number of our awesome running female friends came over for sandwichs and plenty of salty and sweet treats.

A relaxing afternoon, followed by 45minutes of lifting at the gym. Time for a shower, dinner and a good night's sleep before tomorrow's swim. If today is an indicator of 2009, and I hope it is, I'm in for a good year!

Luna Chix =PR= Run

Another Thursday night run with Potomac River Running. Team Luna Chix is now sponsoring the first run of each month, so there was a great turnout last night. Between those Luna Chix and the warmer weather, there were probably 15 women. Talk about a range of paces! I offered to be the caboose, but so did Laura who is Luna Chix extraordinaire. So I ended up doing this weird mixed pace, most of it on the very very hard end for me trying to hang with Laura and some of her teammates. Great workout but humbling.

We ran the Custis Trail between the store and basically my house. Most of the women weren’t familiar with it. I ended up in a mid-place no man’s land as I got to the turn-around point, so let the women I was with go ahead while I waited for the back of the pack so that they didn’t accidentally keep going. A minute or two later Laura appears at the top of the hill and whistles for me. The last few women had turnaround at the mid-point so I was now the back of the pack!! We picked up the pace until we came upon a few of the mid-pack women and then strung ourselves out over about 1/4mile on the way home.

Good but tough run. The Luna Chix support the Breast Cancer Fund and so had a trivia question with a giveaway, and I won! Some yummy luna moon chews for my weekend ride. 2 Luna bars in their two newest flavors. And one of those cool travel coffee mugs. Lucky for me that I’m developing a very tiny coffee habit. I was sore as I went to bed last night – that good kind of sore. The sore that tells you that hard work was done, and a tiny bit more fitness was gained.

Sticking with it

Yesterday, I missed my first scheduled workout in three weeks. I've been very disciplined and focused in this final run-up to my first race of the season, but last night I was exhausted. I practically fell asleep driving home from work. So a nap rather than spin class and a run was the right decision.

Tonight was a tough swim workout I'd been dreading all week. Stuart and I went together -- his second time in the pool since January thanks to his shoulder. After Monday's awesome swim, I should have been prepared for a rough night. I just could not get in the rhythm. 50yds and I was out of breath. I was supposed to do 8x300's at faster than race pace on only 15-30 seconds of rest. Tough work! And I just couldn't get it moving. I was pausing for air and a drink of water after every 100yds. It was miserable.

Stuart hit 1500yds and was done. I was so tempted to call it quits and get out of the pool with him. Instead, I sent him to the store and told him to come back and grab me when he was done. That way I'd have nothing to do except stay in the pool and swim. Eventually, after what felt like an 1800yd warmup I started to get in the groove. I still only swam 2500yds, but that last 800 or so were the best of the night. My form felt on, my speed had improved, and I cranked through a couple of those 300s feeling good and proud.

Something I've really focused on the last year or so is my mental toughness. When I think of myself, I always want to describe myself as tough, strong and assertive. Yet, deep inside I know that I can easily talk myself out of or into anything. When no one is looking, it's easy to cut corners. I'm realizing, though, that I'm letting myself down. And even if they don't know it, I'm letting down my Girls on the Run, friends, colleagues or others who might claim to admire or respect me for some reason. I owe it to them, not just to me, to not quit. Workouts like tonight are ones I need to remember. Just because the start is slow, awkward or tough, doesn't mean that workout or that race or even that day are a waste. Finding the strength to push through the rough spots is what bit by bit reinforces that original strength. The ultimate "do loop" in the words of my husband.

Unexpectedly great workout

Long story short -- I almost blew off today's swim workout. Late getting home. Felt the dogs needed attention and a walk. Just generally lost my mojo. Tried to tell myself that I'd get up at 5am and do it. While walking the dogs though, I knew I'd be mad at myself if I didn't get it done tonight. So when we got back to the house I threw on my swimsuit, and raced to the pool.

I had less than an hour, so knew I wouldn't get the entire 1,600yds of warmup and cool-down done (!), but had faith that I could do a short warmup and the main set. Mondays are the long aerobic workouts. Good steady sets, a mix of 75s, descending 25s and a series of 200s. Out of nowhere they were all solid. My form felt good, my head was down and although I wasn't really closely watching my splits, I could tell they were faster than they were just a few months ago.

As I sit here I realize that's an experience I could have missed. Sure, I might have gotten some paperwork done. Played a few rounds of websudoku. Seen what my friends are up to on Facebook. And somehow I'd have justified to myself that the short time frame I had tonight wasn't worth the effort to make it to the pool. And yet I would have been wrong and deluding myself.

At the end of the day, it's almost always worth it. If nothing else about this day I'll have the knowledge that I achieved something and did something for myself.

Then again....

...maybe not. There's nothing like stating an outlandish goal out loud to make you feel obligated to live up to it. Until life smacks you in the face, or in the case, in the leg.

Met up with Heather this afternoon to run. She was doing 21 in preparation for Boston in a few weeks. My goal was 9-10 miles, and so Nick and I decided to join her. Not even 4miles into this stupid run, my posterior tibialis flared up and I was reduced to a jog/walk combination. SO FRUSTRATING!!! I called it quits at 7.5miles. A very very slow 7.5miles.

Trying to up my hours for the day though, I did head to the gym for another hour to lift and do some core work. So from a training perspective, it was a good day. Just not the great day I'd been planning on.

Public apologies to Heather that she ran more of her day alone than I had hoped. Sorry!!

The Power of Suggestion - an Ultra

After enough emails and blog comments, she may have done it. Worn me down into agreeing to something that seems crazy. In addition to two half ironmans, multiple other triathlons, and signing up for Ironman Louisville for 2010, I think I just agreed to begin training for my first ultra-marathon. Yea, not sure what I'm thinking. FIFTY KILOMETERS is a long freakin' way to run/walk/hobble. But Andrea assures me that it's just a few miles longer than a marathon, and the John Holmes 50K is a very first-timer friendly event.

I did my first 5K back in about 1996 or 1997, a Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. At the time never imagining that I would do a marathon. And in 2000 I completed my first marathon, not even knowing there was such a thing as ultras. Somehow, though, I always seem to be peeking over the horizon, wondering what's possible and what I am capable of. Where is my limit? Will I eventually try something that I can't achieve?

The caveat in this is how my posterior tibialis responds to increasing run volume. Over the spring and summer, my plan is to start increasing my long run distances. If I realize that it can't handle it, then this is an adventure that will go back on the shelf. But maybe with care and caution, I can cross another finish line this year.

Hard Work and Recovery

Ok, so OWWWW!!!! I had forgotten just how ugly and painful that transition to a run can be. Yesterday was my first real brick of the season - meaning a measurable run after an equally measurable bike. Stuart and I got in close to 3hrs on our bikes on Sunday afternoon. Beautiful sunshiney day, but still chilly. Got home, swapped out the bike jersey for a long sleeve t-shirt and grabbed Nick's leash.

And then the pain hit. I was hobbling like some pathetic old lady. Normally Nick would be pulling ahead, but I think even he realized that this wasn't too pretty. After the first mile I seemed to ease into it but oh boy could this be a long day in May! I managed three miles, and sure, could have done more, but was very glad that the training plan called for only a 20-30min run!

Today was worth it, though. I just spent an hour with my massage therapist. He focused on that irritated tricep and deltoid, as well as the posterior and anterior tibealis on both legs. Already I can feel that many of those aches and pains have subsided. If only my health insurance covered therapeutic massage, I'd be seeing him a couple times per month. Stuart's seeing his physio twice a week, so dang it, I went ahead and made another appointment for the week of Kinetic. He shouldn't be the only one in this house getting massaged and manipulated!

Taking Risks

One of the things I just love about Girls on the Run is watching these girls challenge themselves. Sometimes it’s the physical – running further or faster, and eventually completing that 5K. But just as often it’s taking the mental or emotional risks that allow us to grow as people. On Tuesday as our session wrapped up Lily [names changed] mentioned to me that she had never led our team cheer at the end of practice. I told her to remind me on Thursday. Now, Lily is in 3rd grade and might be the most quiet and shy child I have ever run across. She has a beautiful smile, but even her body language shows how much of a struggle it can be for her to speak up and engage with others.

Well, today's session was about gratitude and being thankful. We went around the circle and each girl had to say something about the person on their right that they were thankful for. One of the fifth graders noted that she was thankful that Lily was one of those who was quiet and respectful of others, and never talked when other people were talking. The day’s workout is often a challenge for the girls because it is a silent run. Unlike all our other practices they may not talk or run with anyone else. It's about using the quiet to think about things we're grateful for, and to see what comes into our mind when life around us is calm.

So as our workout was starting Lily mentioned to me again that she hadn't led the cheer. I asked her if she was sure, because it meant she'd have to yell to get everyone excited. I also told her that I knew deep inside her was a big loud voice waiting to come out, so she should do the run and think about if she wanted to. Fast forward to the end of the session. We all gathered in a circle for our cheer and I said "ok, Lily’s leading us." She looked at me for a long second, and I could see her gathering her strength and courage. Taking a deep breath, she started - "gimme a g. gimme an i. GIMME AN R. GIMME AN L. WHAT DOES THAT SPELL? (girls) WHAT DO WE DO? (run) WHAT DOES THAT MAKE US? GIRLS ON THE RUN!!!" She did it! Her voice was loud and strong. You could see afterwards that she was both relieved it was over, but also bursting with pride.

I was just so proud of her. This was clearly such a huge risk for her to step out of her comfort zone, and she succeeded so totally. It was a beautiful moment to experience. I could relate to the feeling, and it’s one I crave. The absolute scariness of attempting something new. And the complete joy at knowing you’ve conquered another fear, another barrier. There are those days right now where life is so chaotic, where the business side of managing GOTR is stressful. And then there are these rewards that remind me why I love and believe in the empowerment that Girls on the Run brings to its participants.

Why Do Numbers Matter So Much?

A year or two ago we bought one of those Tanita scales, one that does weight but also body fat %. You plug in upfront your height, age, gender and choice of 3 activity levels. I've frankly been ashamed by its readings. You see, it's always told me my body fat % is somewhere on the border of “acceptable” and “unhealthy/obese”. Now, the weight it reflects isn’t great, and I know I’d be fitter and happier if I dropped 10lbs. I’d be a machine if I lost 15 or 20. But even on my worst PMS days, I know I’m not obese. But, that bodyfat % on the scale is still humiliating. Not exactly conducive to a good self image.

Anyway, a few weeks ago it started acting up and then the battery died. We didn't replace it for a week or two, and once we did Stuart starts freaking out. It's telling him his bodyfat percentage is in the high 20%s. As someone who typically has about 8% bodyfat, he is super upset. "Look, I've been injured for a few weeks and I'm ballooning into an unhealthy couch potato. This is horrible. My life is over." I assure him that's not the case and to ignore the scale since clearly something is wrong with it. Instead, like a good engineer, he begins to tinker with it. Turns out that when he put the batteries in, it reset his activity level down to moderate instead of active. He fixes it and boom, it's back on track. Then he notices that mine is on moderate and he was like "really? your'e actually pretty active". So he adjusts mine and my body fat percentage drops almost 50% when I next step on the scale! According to this scale, I've gone from borderline obese levels of fat to being in the "healthy range for athletes".

It's amazing. My weight hasn't changed, but in the last 48hrs my level of disgust when I look in the mirror has dropped dramatically. Pathetic, isn't it? While I personally think that the real percentage is somewhere between healthy athlete and obese, I’m still astonished at myself that one little number has so profoundly impacted my view of myself. Why do random numbers matter so much? Am I truly any more or less fit than I was yesterday? No. Do my clothes fit any looser or tighter? Nope. And does Stuart love me any more or less because of a number on the scale that I wouldn’t even let him see? Of course not. But are my shoulders more square, is my head held higher because a battery-operated machine sitting in my bathroom has evaluated me as more worthy? Yes. And damn it, I HATE that. It’s ridiculous. The scale is there, so I can’t not step on it. After all, I am working to be more fit, and that scale is one method of evaluating that progress.

At the same time, letting it define me is frightening. It’s the “Girl Box” that Girls on the Run founder Molly Barker talks about. Letting our standards be set by those around us. Evaluating our own value based not on our own perceptions of ourselves, but by the arbitrary capriciousness of society or even a malfunctioning electronic gadget. 2009 is challenging me already in a multitude of ways. Understanding how I came to be controlled by numbers is going to be one more thing to wrestle with, confront and hopefully overcome in one way or another.