Since becoming a parent one thing I've search high and low for, and always come up empty handed, are other mothers that work full time outside of the home, have small children, and train for races of increasing distances. Sure I find stories from men that discuss balancing work, family and training. That's all fine and dandy, but in most of these stories one thing is clear: the wife is the glue of the family. In many, many families this is true of the role of the mother. Don't get me wrong, I'm so fortunate to have a partner that is an excellent father and supportive of my racing that he is understanding and without hesitation allows me the freedom to train and race in destination locations. Yet, I find stories about people training at 4 or 5am in the morning, which I cannot do. I have to take my daughter to school. I can't go for a swim or do a workout outside the house early in the morning. I can't train until 11pm at night after work. I still have a family after all and the reality is that it's unfair to just disappear from their lives for my own selfish reasons.
Instead, I found an amazing job in which at lunch I can swim (and getting in 4000 to 5000m at lunchtime is insanely difficult, but you bust your hump to make it happen). After work I go back to the gym to do bike intervals followed by speedwork on a treadmill. I have one day a week I take the bike out for Time Trial Intervals followed by run intervals for 45 minutes for a brick workout. I also have just run workouts but I make sure I am home in time to put my daughter to bed. The weekends are for long workouts, which I do by myself and manage to complete by 10am or 11am so I can spend the rest of my day with my family which is so important for me, but also for them.
Training for any long distance race is a selfish process. You train and time with the family is what is sacrificed. At the same time, you have a family and they make sacrifices for you as an athlete so you can succeed. You cross a finish line, but to be honest, while you feel accomplished, the real finishers are the families of athletes. I think they give up so much more than the athlete does. So, while you see athletes so upset with their performance, or not getting enough training in a given week, or whatever else in their training and racing career that didn't go right and internalizing their frustration, you will find me always happy with every single last race, even if I can't finish, because just being able to show up at the starting line was a gift that was given to me by my family. I always have a smile on my face at a race, and usually right after the race I go home and give my medal to my daughter. I may have raced, but she earned that medal. Basically, the one thing I keep are my race numbers that I pin on my wall at work. Those aren't there for just me either. Those numbers are to show students that you can do anything, and remind me through how many races so many people sacrificed so that I could do what I love.
Now I have 5 1/2 weeks until my first full Ironman. This is where my family starts to give up the most through the process. I have to put more time into this journey focusing on the mental and the physical. This is the point in training where it all becomes very real, and trust me, I definitely need to focus on the mental. So, I can't really find someone who have gone through the same journey that I have, therefore I need to rely on myself to know how I structure family and training is right for us and just ignore the outside nose.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Too much negative noise will drive you crazy....and who wants to be crazy?
So, this is something that has actually bothered me for a long time. As triathletes, marathoners and ultra-marathoners we are apart of an extremely small community. So small that less than 1% of the population in the US actually make up our community. So, why is it that there is bullying, resentment and just flat out disrespect between athletes? Healthy competition is a good thing, even great, but animosity and flat out bad behavior is the thing that can tear apart these sports.
Back in December I traveled to San Francisco to participate in my first ultra-marathon. I was so beyond excited. The morning of the race I rode in the bus with my friend Art and his friend Lucas whom are both crazy runners. I have to be perfectly honest, while I am fully aware that my daughter is 4 years old I still have the most amazingly over bearing insecurity about my weight. Before I was pregnant I worked hard training and stayed between a size 6 to size 8 for the most part and hovered around 140lbs at less than 20% body fat. Now I'm a lot heavier than that and over between a size 12 and a larger size 10 on a good day. It's hard for me to see people I haven't seen in years, but I went and picked up coffee and met up with the guys at the bus. It was great to see Art after so many years. It took me forever to finish and I did what my head is just programed to do: walk straight to the shuttle, get on shuttle, go back to car, go home. I do it at every race and rarely go to a race with anyone else. On the shuttle I met the nicest man who ran. We talked about our families, he has 6 children, and running, his wife was running her 1st marathon and hoping to qualify for Boston.
Fast forward to mid-March, and after the Catalina marathon I got my backpack and made a beeline for the boats, changed my ticket to the next boat to the mainland and got inline to board. Low and behold, the person standing in front of me is the same man from the shuttle (his wife qualified for Boston with 16 seconds to spare) as well as another runner from Virginia that I had met at the Malibu Marathon the previous November. The next week I was in San Juan, Puerto Rico for the inaugural San Juan 70.3 half Ironman. At the expo I ran into people I've met and seen at many races, and it dawned on me: We are a small community of less than 1% which means it doesn't matter if you're in Marin County, a small island off the coast of California, or a large island in the Caribbean, or training in your local community.....we are a community nonetheless and we are all in this together.
You don't have to get along, you don't have to love each other, hell there are going to be times when you are frustrated with your training or just life in general and you can't stand anyone, but at the end of the day the people that will always be there to see you to the finish is a community of athletes that do make up less than 1% of the population. So we are all bound to have people we will see in training and racing we don't particularly like, and that's okay. Shit happens. The question is will you allow the noise to negatively effect you, or will you block out that noise and be in a place of yes? I know, totally sounds very Pollyanna of me, but seriously, tell me where in your life you actually have the mentally capacity and time in your life carved out for negative noise? I'm willing to bet you $20 you don't.
It's racing season, but for me it's mostly training season for Vineman Full on July 30th. That insecurity of the extra 30-35lbs is going to go away along with the weight. It's a burden too heavy to carry anymore. Any stress and negativity is no longer permitted in my life. It's too noisy, and I rather enjoy a peaceful existence, and really who doesn't enjoy happiness and a peaceful existence?
Back in December I traveled to San Francisco to participate in my first ultra-marathon. I was so beyond excited. The morning of the race I rode in the bus with my friend Art and his friend Lucas whom are both crazy runners. I have to be perfectly honest, while I am fully aware that my daughter is 4 years old I still have the most amazingly over bearing insecurity about my weight. Before I was pregnant I worked hard training and stayed between a size 6 to size 8 for the most part and hovered around 140lbs at less than 20% body fat. Now I'm a lot heavier than that and over between a size 12 and a larger size 10 on a good day. It's hard for me to see people I haven't seen in years, but I went and picked up coffee and met up with the guys at the bus. It was great to see Art after so many years. It took me forever to finish and I did what my head is just programed to do: walk straight to the shuttle, get on shuttle, go back to car, go home. I do it at every race and rarely go to a race with anyone else. On the shuttle I met the nicest man who ran. We talked about our families, he has 6 children, and running, his wife was running her 1st marathon and hoping to qualify for Boston.
Fast forward to mid-March, and after the Catalina marathon I got my backpack and made a beeline for the boats, changed my ticket to the next boat to the mainland and got inline to board. Low and behold, the person standing in front of me is the same man from the shuttle (his wife qualified for Boston with 16 seconds to spare) as well as another runner from Virginia that I had met at the Malibu Marathon the previous November. The next week I was in San Juan, Puerto Rico for the inaugural San Juan 70.3 half Ironman. At the expo I ran into people I've met and seen at many races, and it dawned on me: We are a small community of less than 1% which means it doesn't matter if you're in Marin County, a small island off the coast of California, or a large island in the Caribbean, or training in your local community.....we are a community nonetheless and we are all in this together.
You don't have to get along, you don't have to love each other, hell there are going to be times when you are frustrated with your training or just life in general and you can't stand anyone, but at the end of the day the people that will always be there to see you to the finish is a community of athletes that do make up less than 1% of the population. So we are all bound to have people we will see in training and racing we don't particularly like, and that's okay. Shit happens. The question is will you allow the noise to negatively effect you, or will you block out that noise and be in a place of yes? I know, totally sounds very Pollyanna of me, but seriously, tell me where in your life you actually have the mentally capacity and time in your life carved out for negative noise? I'm willing to bet you $20 you don't.
It's racing season, but for me it's mostly training season for Vineman Full on July 30th. That insecurity of the extra 30-35lbs is going to go away along with the weight. It's a burden too heavy to carry anymore. Any stress and negativity is no longer permitted in my life. It's too noisy, and I rather enjoy a peaceful existence, and really who doesn't enjoy happiness and a peaceful existence?
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
San Juan 70.3
This was an amazing race to experience. There were highs, not too many lows, and things I never thought possible (that I will definitely skip). I got to the host hotel at 4:45am and promptly jumped in line at the Starbucks to get a Green Iced Tea, oatmeal and yogurt. We dropped our bikes off the day before in transition, so I had a bag with my transition items and really didn't need too much time to set up. I sat down and for the first time EVER before a race.....I ate breakfast. For the past day I'd been worried about the fact that I wasn't at all freaked out about the race. No butterflies, no second thoughts, no questioning my ability, nothing but calm and a bit of excitement. The weather was warm, the humidity was thick, and I was ready to go with just one goal: to finish. I made my way to my bike, set up transition, put on sunscreen and at 6am started the 1 mile walk to the race start (YES! ONE MILE BAREFOOT!) Along the way I just met the nicest people, which proved to be the theme of the day. Finally at 6:40 the Promen started. 6:50 the Pro women. 7am the first amateur wave. I was in the 7:15am wave with about 60 others and we all waded into the 79 degree water, chatting it up, and when the starting gun went off there was no made dash to be first. I swear, this was possibly the most excellent example of sportsmanship in a race, or at least it was the best in my 8 years of racing.
The plan of attack was to take this swim one buoy at a time, and that's exactly what I did. The water was warm, and while it was in a "lagoon" the current was strong. I was told to "swim to the right" about 4 times. Everyone just kept drifting. The course was an out and waaaaaay back, under a bridge, back to the hotel. I eventually exited the water to where I started my 1/3 mile....YES! 1/3 mile trot to transition (these very long trots back to transition happen for every single leg and are added to your total time for that leg, NOT for transition). Eventually, I cross the mat thus beginning my transition....but I still have a ways to go to even get to my transition area! LOL! I get to the bike and I decided to take my time. I reapply sunscreen, put on socks to avoid blisters, consume a gel, use my inhaler and put it into my pocket and then I started the trek out of transition. I exit transition and begin the trek to the bike mount (see, a reoccurring theme!) Get on my bike and away I go!
The biggest climb on the bike course was a total of 80 feet. The day before I asked a person at my table for the mandatory meeting where the "climb" was and what it was. He informed me it was simply a freeway overpass and then spent 10 minute outlining the entire course, with the various climbs over the overpasses, and at what time the cross winds, head winds, etc usually acted up. This man was the greatest resource for me in this race (obviously he was from Puerto Rico), and the info he gave me is exactly one of two reasons I had an amazing bike leg (the other is the countless drills my amazing coach had me do on a spin bike!) Let's face it, it's been raining A LOT at home so most of my bike work happened at home on the spin bike, at the gym on a spin bike and in spin class. I was lucky enough to have access to spin bikes that had computers and would tell me what gear I was in. totally took all the guess work out of the workout so I could focus on getting the most out of my intervals. Back on the bike course for the first 30 miles I got the ONLY tail wind I would have for this entire race and I went faster on my bike at times than I've ever gone on my bike. Then I got to mile 37 or 38 at the final turn around and my inhaler popped out of my pocket. If it was a bar or gel I wouldn't have cared, but I care when it's my inhaler. I safely pulled over, went back 10 feet and grabbed it, secured it, and safely started again....and then came the cross winds. DAMN CROSS WINDS! The last 18 miles back I've never seen so many people needed first aide because the cross winds knocked them off their bike. There was one guy who was way ahead of me that was blown off, went on to finish and at the end I saw him in a wheelchair with a neck brace....and a finisher medal. I make it back to the bike dismount and am just glad to be 2/3 done. I thought it was only going to be a couple of hours more, but I was sorely mistaken.
So, I make the final long haul trek to the mats into transition, and then the trek to my bike (which was never ever near an entrance or exit of transition) and my legs actually feel great. A shout out to Eric for giving me so many run off the bike workouts. It made a HUGE difference. My bike to run transition was almost half the time of my T1 time. I grab some Sharkies to munch on and start the hike to exit transition. Now, I knew that run would be the hardest leg, everyone knew it, but yeah, this was beyond anyone's wildest imagination. I got out of transition, started to literally run and I couldn't breathe at all. It was only 11am and I thought I would have until at least noon until the thick of the humidity would set in. WRONG! I just kept walking, smile on my face and all you hear is "Come on lady don't give up" (In English and Spanish) and then some random guy saying "Oh, she must be haivng a hard day. I hope she is able to finish". I won't lie, it totally pissed me off, but the fact was that my body was physically capable of running, but my asthmatic lungs couldn't hold any large capacity of air. I just kept trotting along because damn it! I WAS GOING TO FINISH!
I had the foresight to bring money with me....and it turned out to be an excellent idea. The thought of warm gatorade in 85 degree heat with 80% humidity never sounded appealing. Since the run was 2 loops through old San Juan I knew there would be street vendors with ice cold water. I am almost to the first turn around on the first loop and meet a nice man who is exhausted and sick of the warm water. When we get back into the town from the "Princess Walk" (which is the worst part of the run: No breeze, and sun beating down on you reflecting off the water and the wall of the fortress) there is a vendor and we get 2 bottles of water. We trot and walk a little to the 6 mile turn around and start the second loop. At this point it's 1 pm and almost nobody is running anymore, or if they are it's a run slower then the rest of us walking. By the time I'm back to the "Princess Walk" I could swear they've move the turn around further back (they didn't) and then I just have 3 miles left. The soles of my feet are literally burning from the heat in the cobblestone. It;s black cobblestone that just absorbs every degree of heat possible. So, with 2 miles left I get a diet coke. I was in desperate need of caffeine, but I still felt pretty good. I finally get to what I think is the home stretch and then there it is: THE DAMN BRIDGE! I think "Oh holy hell, I forgot about the bridge" and I wasn't the only person. Everyone around me forgot about it, and one man paused looking at it to muster up the energy to get over it. I get over the bridge and you can hear the finish line, but you cannot see the finish. I looked at a volunteer and in Spanish ask "are you sure there's a finish line at the end?" We laughed, and I started to run and low and behold 15 seconds later I was crossing the finish line. It took 7:58, about 2 hours longer than I would have liked, but in 85 degree heat with 80% humidity finishing was the best reward.
On Monday at the airport I was in the security line with the head official from USAT and he asked me how I enjoyed the race. I told him it was one of the best race experiences I've ever had despite the rather super slow finish time. He then informed me that after every race he has to write a report of the race and his opinion on the course and that the run course in all 10 years of his experience as an official was possibly the most brutal course he's even witnessed between the heat/humidity, no shade AT ALL, and constant elevation change. At that moment, I was just happy to have finished at all.
During the race I had a lot to think about and reflect on, and decisions were made. We arrived home at 2am on Tuesday and in the afternoon all of our mail was delivered. We received the contract for Emily's school in the fall and it finally set in that my need to be limited and I have to focus on the goal race for once. So, my focus is on Vineman on July 31st, and any race that I do will be cleared with the coach and will only be done if it helps me with my training for Vineman. All Active.com emails now go to spam and I'm in "recovery" from my medal addiction! LOL!
Thank you to everyone for your support through this journey, especially my family who makes my racing insanity possible.
The plan of attack was to take this swim one buoy at a time, and that's exactly what I did. The water was warm, and while it was in a "lagoon" the current was strong. I was told to "swim to the right" about 4 times. Everyone just kept drifting. The course was an out and waaaaaay back, under a bridge, back to the hotel. I eventually exited the water to where I started my 1/3 mile....YES! 1/3 mile trot to transition (these very long trots back to transition happen for every single leg and are added to your total time for that leg, NOT for transition). Eventually, I cross the mat thus beginning my transition....but I still have a ways to go to even get to my transition area! LOL! I get to the bike and I decided to take my time. I reapply sunscreen, put on socks to avoid blisters, consume a gel, use my inhaler and put it into my pocket and then I started the trek out of transition. I exit transition and begin the trek to the bike mount (see, a reoccurring theme!) Get on my bike and away I go!
The biggest climb on the bike course was a total of 80 feet. The day before I asked a person at my table for the mandatory meeting where the "climb" was and what it was. He informed me it was simply a freeway overpass and then spent 10 minute outlining the entire course, with the various climbs over the overpasses, and at what time the cross winds, head winds, etc usually acted up. This man was the greatest resource for me in this race (obviously he was from Puerto Rico), and the info he gave me is exactly one of two reasons I had an amazing bike leg (the other is the countless drills my amazing coach had me do on a spin bike!) Let's face it, it's been raining A LOT at home so most of my bike work happened at home on the spin bike, at the gym on a spin bike and in spin class. I was lucky enough to have access to spin bikes that had computers and would tell me what gear I was in. totally took all the guess work out of the workout so I could focus on getting the most out of my intervals. Back on the bike course for the first 30 miles I got the ONLY tail wind I would have for this entire race and I went faster on my bike at times than I've ever gone on my bike. Then I got to mile 37 or 38 at the final turn around and my inhaler popped out of my pocket. If it was a bar or gel I wouldn't have cared, but I care when it's my inhaler. I safely pulled over, went back 10 feet and grabbed it, secured it, and safely started again....and then came the cross winds. DAMN CROSS WINDS! The last 18 miles back I've never seen so many people needed first aide because the cross winds knocked them off their bike. There was one guy who was way ahead of me that was blown off, went on to finish and at the end I saw him in a wheelchair with a neck brace....and a finisher medal. I make it back to the bike dismount and am just glad to be 2/3 done. I thought it was only going to be a couple of hours more, but I was sorely mistaken.
So, I make the final long haul trek to the mats into transition, and then the trek to my bike (which was never ever near an entrance or exit of transition) and my legs actually feel great. A shout out to Eric for giving me so many run off the bike workouts. It made a HUGE difference. My bike to run transition was almost half the time of my T1 time. I grab some Sharkies to munch on and start the hike to exit transition. Now, I knew that run would be the hardest leg, everyone knew it, but yeah, this was beyond anyone's wildest imagination. I got out of transition, started to literally run and I couldn't breathe at all. It was only 11am and I thought I would have until at least noon until the thick of the humidity would set in. WRONG! I just kept walking, smile on my face and all you hear is "Come on lady don't give up" (In English and Spanish) and then some random guy saying "Oh, she must be haivng a hard day. I hope she is able to finish". I won't lie, it totally pissed me off, but the fact was that my body was physically capable of running, but my asthmatic lungs couldn't hold any large capacity of air. I just kept trotting along because damn it! I WAS GOING TO FINISH!
I had the foresight to bring money with me....and it turned out to be an excellent idea. The thought of warm gatorade in 85 degree heat with 80% humidity never sounded appealing. Since the run was 2 loops through old San Juan I knew there would be street vendors with ice cold water. I am almost to the first turn around on the first loop and meet a nice man who is exhausted and sick of the warm water. When we get back into the town from the "Princess Walk" (which is the worst part of the run: No breeze, and sun beating down on you reflecting off the water and the wall of the fortress) there is a vendor and we get 2 bottles of water. We trot and walk a little to the 6 mile turn around and start the second loop. At this point it's 1 pm and almost nobody is running anymore, or if they are it's a run slower then the rest of us walking. By the time I'm back to the "Princess Walk" I could swear they've move the turn around further back (they didn't) and then I just have 3 miles left. The soles of my feet are literally burning from the heat in the cobblestone. It;s black cobblestone that just absorbs every degree of heat possible. So, with 2 miles left I get a diet coke. I was in desperate need of caffeine, but I still felt pretty good. I finally get to what I think is the home stretch and then there it is: THE DAMN BRIDGE! I think "Oh holy hell, I forgot about the bridge" and I wasn't the only person. Everyone around me forgot about it, and one man paused looking at it to muster up the energy to get over it. I get over the bridge and you can hear the finish line, but you cannot see the finish. I looked at a volunteer and in Spanish ask "are you sure there's a finish line at the end?" We laughed, and I started to run and low and behold 15 seconds later I was crossing the finish line. It took 7:58, about 2 hours longer than I would have liked, but in 85 degree heat with 80% humidity finishing was the best reward.
On Monday at the airport I was in the security line with the head official from USAT and he asked me how I enjoyed the race. I told him it was one of the best race experiences I've ever had despite the rather super slow finish time. He then informed me that after every race he has to write a report of the race and his opinion on the course and that the run course in all 10 years of his experience as an official was possibly the most brutal course he's even witnessed between the heat/humidity, no shade AT ALL, and constant elevation change. At that moment, I was just happy to have finished at all.
During the race I had a lot to think about and reflect on, and decisions were made. We arrived home at 2am on Tuesday and in the afternoon all of our mail was delivered. We received the contract for Emily's school in the fall and it finally set in that my need to be limited and I have to focus on the goal race for once. So, my focus is on Vineman on July 31st, and any race that I do will be cleared with the coach and will only be done if it helps me with my training for Vineman. All Active.com emails now go to spam and I'm in "recovery" from my medal addiction! LOL!
Thank you to everyone for your support through this journey, especially my family who makes my racing insanity possible.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Time To Recommit
It's been a long time....A very long time since I last blogged. I was at the end of a medical leave from work which lead to diagnosing my autoimmune disease, Palindromic Rheumatism, and it's taken a lot of time getting used to the changes I've had to make. I've had to come to terms with knowing my limits. Sometimes the limits weren't obvious to my until I would awaken at 3am on a race morning in searing pain knowing that I would only hurt myself if I actually raced. So many days of just being too exhausted to be able to finish a 2-3 hour workout, but still trying to get part of it in. 6 month later, I still hurt and I am still tired, but I know how to manage it. I've run marathons and half marathons and completed them. I've done triathlons and completed them. The key is knowing ahead of time what my limits are before I get in the car and drive to a race, and knowing how to avoid the pitfalls.
Along with the physical pain comes the mental strain as well. Feeling that I'm not good enough, wondering why the 4 cups of coffee aren't enough to wake me up some days, some days of mindless eating (which I never did before), and just feeling let down. Disappointing myself is so much worse for me than disappointing other people. When I have to cancel on someone else in all honestly there is no guilt about it. I am always honest and upfront why I canceled. I have a family, work, and sometimes the outcome of those things cannot be controlled. When I cancel on me, which lately has been more often than not, there's a lot of anger and resentment towards myself, and no one else. This is generally when I need to stop, reassess my goals and recommit to achieving them. I rarely go on the journey of a race alone, it's the journey of training to get to that race I do alone. I realize that I'm not very big on the group workouts for most of my training. I find it sometimes distracting and not really following the complicated schedule I now have to be able to finish an ultramarathon, back-to-back half Ironmans, and a full Ironman. I rather like the solo training. Let's face it when you race the only time you aren't truly alone is at the starting line and the finish line. In a marathon you do get word of encouragement, meet wonderful people along the way, but the goal is still to get to the finish as fast as possible and uninjured. In a triathlon, every second counts, and being comfortable being alone for 30-90 minutes during the swim, 2-7 hours on the bike and digging deep in the run carry an athlete so much further than one might think.
I am the world's laziest endurance athlete. I don't show up expecting to win my age group, but I also don't show up expecting to be in last place. I race for me, and nobody else. Wait, that's not entirely true. I race for me, and hope that I'm a great role model for my daughter. That one days she will say "my mommy races" and beam with pride. She doesn't care about the numbers. She doesn't care what amount of wattage I'm producing during a bike training session. She doesn't care about splits, elevation changes, or water conditions. What she cares about is that when mommy returns home she gets to add another medal to the growing collection on the doorknob to the coat closet in the foyer. I'm fortunate enough to have a partner in my life that also sacrifices so that I can train. He stays home with our daughter while I go out for a run, a swim, a training and nutrition session, when I leave at 3am for a race and don't return home until 3pm, to agree to travel to San Francisco twice in a 5 month span, go to Puerto Rico the first weekend of March Madness, to agree to not just spending 6 days in Canada's wine country for my Ironman race, but to do so with my parents and his parents and want to drop me at the race at 5am and potentially pick my up post race at midnight. It takes a village to be any type of athlete, and this is my village.
Tomorrow I'm going to wake up at 5am and drive to Bonelli Park in San Dimas for the Turkey Tri. 1/2 mile swim, 14 mile bike (that's really more like 16 miles) and a 4.5 mile run. When I leave my house it's probably going to be closer to 38 degrees. The water at the swim is bound to be below 60 degrees. It's hilly and will be bone chilling, but it's going to be a good time spent with friends from the Pasadena Tri Club. The rest of my week will then be focused on the upcoming North Face Endurance Challenge 50k on Dec. 4th. A 31 mile ultra marathon in the Golden Gate Recreational park just north of San Francisco. It's probably going to rain the entire time, it's going to be even colder, and it's going to be the biggest challenge I've faced racing. I'm going to go into the woods a runner, and I will emerge an ultramarathon runner. It's the beginning of what is going to be an epic year for me mentally, physically and emotionally and I'm happy to train for the ride solo, but finish surrounded by friends and family.
Along with the physical pain comes the mental strain as well. Feeling that I'm not good enough, wondering why the 4 cups of coffee aren't enough to wake me up some days, some days of mindless eating (which I never did before), and just feeling let down. Disappointing myself is so much worse for me than disappointing other people. When I have to cancel on someone else in all honestly there is no guilt about it. I am always honest and upfront why I canceled. I have a family, work, and sometimes the outcome of those things cannot be controlled. When I cancel on me, which lately has been more often than not, there's a lot of anger and resentment towards myself, and no one else. This is generally when I need to stop, reassess my goals and recommit to achieving them. I rarely go on the journey of a race alone, it's the journey of training to get to that race I do alone. I realize that I'm not very big on the group workouts for most of my training. I find it sometimes distracting and not really following the complicated schedule I now have to be able to finish an ultramarathon, back-to-back half Ironmans, and a full Ironman. I rather like the solo training. Let's face it when you race the only time you aren't truly alone is at the starting line and the finish line. In a marathon you do get word of encouragement, meet wonderful people along the way, but the goal is still to get to the finish as fast as possible and uninjured. In a triathlon, every second counts, and being comfortable being alone for 30-90 minutes during the swim, 2-7 hours on the bike and digging deep in the run carry an athlete so much further than one might think.
I am the world's laziest endurance athlete. I don't show up expecting to win my age group, but I also don't show up expecting to be in last place. I race for me, and nobody else. Wait, that's not entirely true. I race for me, and hope that I'm a great role model for my daughter. That one days she will say "my mommy races" and beam with pride. She doesn't care about the numbers. She doesn't care what amount of wattage I'm producing during a bike training session. She doesn't care about splits, elevation changes, or water conditions. What she cares about is that when mommy returns home she gets to add another medal to the growing collection on the doorknob to the coat closet in the foyer. I'm fortunate enough to have a partner in my life that also sacrifices so that I can train. He stays home with our daughter while I go out for a run, a swim, a training and nutrition session, when I leave at 3am for a race and don't return home until 3pm, to agree to travel to San Francisco twice in a 5 month span, go to Puerto Rico the first weekend of March Madness, to agree to not just spending 6 days in Canada's wine country for my Ironman race, but to do so with my parents and his parents and want to drop me at the race at 5am and potentially pick my up post race at midnight. It takes a village to be any type of athlete, and this is my village.
Tomorrow I'm going to wake up at 5am and drive to Bonelli Park in San Dimas for the Turkey Tri. 1/2 mile swim, 14 mile bike (that's really more like 16 miles) and a 4.5 mile run. When I leave my house it's probably going to be closer to 38 degrees. The water at the swim is bound to be below 60 degrees. It's hilly and will be bone chilling, but it's going to be a good time spent with friends from the Pasadena Tri Club. The rest of my week will then be focused on the upcoming North Face Endurance Challenge 50k on Dec. 4th. A 31 mile ultra marathon in the Golden Gate Recreational park just north of San Francisco. It's probably going to rain the entire time, it's going to be even colder, and it's going to be the biggest challenge I've faced racing. I'm going to go into the woods a runner, and I will emerge an ultramarathon runner. It's the beginning of what is going to be an epic year for me mentally, physically and emotionally and I'm happy to train for the ride solo, but finish surrounded by friends and family.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
P90X....Week 1 do-over
I started P90X last week, and my body is screaming. I have decided I need a week 1 do-over and will blog about fitting P90X into my regular training. I have also apparently lost my marbles because I signed up for the advance3d swim class at the Rose Bowl Aquatic Center and realized I have 90 minutes to kill before class.....so I signed up for boot camp as well. Therefore, I have a whole new training schedule and here it is!
Monday:
AM: P90X Legs & Upper Back, Ab Ripper X
LUNCH: Swim
PM: rest
Tuesday:
AM: P90X Kenpo
LUNCH: Swim
PM: Boot Camp
Wednesday:
AM: rest
LUNCH: rest
PM: Brick ride & run with Pasadena Tri Club
Thurs:
AM: P90X Chest & Back, Ab Ripper X
LUNCH: Run
PM: Boot Camp, 1 hours swim class
Friday:
AM: P90X Plyometrics
LUNCH: Swim
PM: rest
Saturday:
AM: Run or Ride
PM: P90X Shoulders & Arms, Ab Ripper X
Sunday:
AM: Open Water Swim
PM: P90X Yoga X
I'm still debating before & after photos. While I'm 100% sure seeing myself in a photo now will be enough motivation to stick with it, I don't know if I want photographic evidence of what I look like now. I'll decide by Monday!
Monday:
AM: P90X Legs & Upper Back, Ab Ripper X
LUNCH: Swim
PM: rest
Tuesday:
AM: P90X Kenpo
LUNCH: Swim
PM: Boot Camp
Wednesday:
AM: rest
LUNCH: rest
PM: Brick ride & run with Pasadena Tri Club
Thurs:
AM: P90X Chest & Back, Ab Ripper X
LUNCH: Run
PM: Boot Camp, 1 hours swim class
Friday:
AM: P90X Plyometrics
LUNCH: Swim
PM: rest
Saturday:
AM: Run or Ride
PM: P90X Shoulders & Arms, Ab Ripper X
Sunday:
AM: Open Water Swim
PM: P90X Yoga X
I'm still debating before & after photos. While I'm 100% sure seeing myself in a photo now will be enough motivation to stick with it, I don't know if I want photographic evidence of what I look like now. I'll decide by Monday!
A Milestone…Finally!
I completed my first triathlon in April 2003 at Bonelli Park. I came in 4th in my age group with a time of 1:20 and some change. Yesterday, and 7 years later, I finished with 1:35:07 and I’m okay with that. I came into this race off 3 months of a medical leave, and during those three months I swore I would swim as much as I could. Yeah, that just never happened. Nonetheless, at the end of the race it was a great day.
I arrived at about 6:35am. I needed coffee in the worst way, thus my tardiness in arrival. I got in line and found Valerie. I had decided to move down to the Express sprint from the Championship course. Just from the lack of training I know my body wouldn’t have been able to handle it despite my brain telling me “it doesn’t seem that far”. Overriding my brain was the best decision I made all day. Lisa, Valerie, Gail, Neil, Amy, Nancy, Ben, and Michel were all there to proudly represent the club.
From the get go I knew I was going to have to take it incredibly easy, but I wanted to go out hard on the swim. Alas, that was never going to happen. Valerie and I walk down to the swim start and get a little warm up in. I felt like a kid splashing around and having a good time. For the first time in a very, very, very long time I had absolutely no anxiety at all. As Ben was in the first wave, Nancy, Val and myself were in the absolute last wave. Since this was my first race in awhile I positioned myself in the back of the pack on the inside. HUGE MISTAKE! The start was easy with just a touch of effort. It was after the turn off the first buoy when it became a challenge. I was literally sandwiched in with two women in front of me (one doing the side stroke, and the other was just a slower swimmer), one on my right side (she was doing the breast stroke) and then two behind me I think they were trying to draft. Everytime I tried to swim through the two women in front of me I would get blocked. At one point I actually pleaded with them to move over because I was putting too much effort into a swim I should have been done with already. They politely moved over and I thanked them. Next time I start at the front on the inside!
Swim Time: 7:58
Goal swim for June: 6:15
On to transition! All I can say is that I used to have an amazingly fast transition. I would actually practice my transitions, wetsuit and all, and time myself. However, that was PE (pre-Emily, my precocious 3 ½ year old). I haven’t done a transition since I actually completed my last triathlon in 2008. With this T1 time, I know it’s time to get back to basics and get to practicing.
T1 Time: 4:56
Goal T1 for June: 2:45
As I was exiting T1 and hopped on my bike I felt amazing…..until you have to turn right at the end of the driveway and climb that hill! Okay, it’s maybe a ¼ mile climb at best, but I really, really need to work on my climbing. You have a false flat? I’m your girl! I get to the top and go into a long decent. After all, what goes up, must come down. I was counting on getting my legs back during the first decent but that didn’t happen. Actually, it never happened. I think all the additional effort I put into trying to get out of the group in the swim was what did me in. Nonetheless, I climb every hill before me, with one exception. That last incline before you get back into Bonelli Park, yeah, I walked that. Next month, not only with I ride it, but I will attack it and get my rear out of the saddle!
Bike Time: 42:46
Goal Bike for June: 36:15
T2 was SO MUCH BETTER than T1. I got in, racked my bike, took the helmet off, took a sip of water, and quickly switched shoes. However, there is always room for improvement.
T2 Time: 2:00
Goal T2 Time for June: 1:30
Lastly was the run. Since being released from my medical leave, well, the running is what has suffered in my training. I went in knowing if I needed to walk all of the 5k I would walk, but I would give it my best shot. Val went out about 15-20 seconds before me, but stayed in eyeshot the whole run. I went out and tried to employ a run for 5 min and walk for 1 min, but that dramatically changed into a walk uphill and run downhill method. The run went by much faster than I thought, so that made it all that much easier mentally to take.
Run Time: 37:27
Goal Run for June: 31:45
Alas, in all, it was a great race day. What more could you ask for from a race: great weather, great volunteers, great friends, and an all around perfect race day! Now I know that with my training this week to hit the hills for my run AND the bike and just keep up my swim, but position myself in a better spot for the race in June!
Total Race Time: 1:35:07
Goal Race Time for June: 1:18 to 1:22
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Starting Again
After a horrible winter training (or lack there of) and then being off the past 4 weeks from almost any training due to my recent diagnosis of a rare anti-inflamitory disease...I'M BACK! I have new goal races, a new schedule, and just a whole new outlook. I rarely get upset if I have to drop out of a race because of illness or injury, and for the past year all 4 races I missed or dropped from out of 16 in the 2009/early 2010 season were due to injury, and one from plastic surgery recovery, but that was a one time thing.
Here I now sit writing this after a 45 minute jog on the treadmill, followed by sit-ups and a fast 15 minute strength circuit. I am recommitting to posting a weekly recap and my workouts for that upcoming week on Mondays. Here is what I have for the rest of this week:
Thursday: 45 minutes run (got that out of the way!)
Friday: 60 minute cycling
Saturday: Santa Anita Derby Day 5k (and possibly an additional 6 miles home for a total of 9.1)
Sunday: Open water swim with Valerie and other PTC memebers (I'm trying to be more active in the club)
The upcoming races I have are as follows:
April 18th: LA Tri Championship #1
May 2nd: OC Half Marathon
May 16th: LA Tri Championship #2
June 13th: LA Tri Championship #3
July 25th: SF Half Marathon (this will complete my California Dreamin' Series)
Sept 5th: Disneyland Half Marathon
Sept 19th: Long Beach Tri
October 10th: Magic Mountain Man Half Tri
October 17th: LB Half Marathon
October 24th: Inagural LA Rock n Roll Half Marathon
Nov 13th: San Gabriel Valley Turkey Trot 5k (Defending my age group 1st place title)
Nov 14th: Malibu Half Marthon
Dec 12th: LA County Half Marathon
My new goal race is in March 2010, the newly announced San Juan 70.3 Half Ironman in Puerto Rico!
Train Hard! Train Smart!
Here I now sit writing this after a 45 minute jog on the treadmill, followed by sit-ups and a fast 15 minute strength circuit. I am recommitting to posting a weekly recap and my workouts for that upcoming week on Mondays. Here is what I have for the rest of this week:
Thursday: 45 minutes run (got that out of the way!)
Friday: 60 minute cycling
Saturday: Santa Anita Derby Day 5k (and possibly an additional 6 miles home for a total of 9.1)
Sunday: Open water swim with Valerie and other PTC memebers (I'm trying to be more active in the club)
The upcoming races I have are as follows:
April 18th: LA Tri Championship #1
May 2nd: OC Half Marathon
May 16th: LA Tri Championship #2
June 13th: LA Tri Championship #3
July 25th: SF Half Marathon (this will complete my California Dreamin' Series)
Sept 5th: Disneyland Half Marathon
Sept 19th: Long Beach Tri
October 10th: Magic Mountain Man Half Tri
October 17th: LB Half Marathon
October 24th: Inagural LA Rock n Roll Half Marathon
Nov 13th: San Gabriel Valley Turkey Trot 5k (Defending my age group 1st place title)
Nov 14th: Malibu Half Marthon
Dec 12th: LA County Half Marathon
My new goal race is in March 2010, the newly announced San Juan 70.3 Half Ironman in Puerto Rico!
Train Hard! Train Smart!
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