May 30, 2008
My Personal Ad
When I train there is peace. Call it a runner's high, an endorphin high, or whatever you want, but somewhere in the mix of blood flowing, endorphins working, or the rhythm of legs moving, I find a certain zen. Sometimes it's at mile 2 of a run. Last week it didn't happen until mile 16 of a ride. Whatever the perfect storm of endorphins and sweat, it allows me to think clearly. I suddenly find myself solving problems (how do you get two kids in three places when you are just one person?), to creating the perfect training strategies, to blog writing, to discovering things about myself as a person or as a mom.
These ideas and thoughts always seem to come with such clarity and eloquent wording but I have no way of capturing them. I sometimes feel that it would be nice to stop, flip open my head and let all the thoughts come tumbling out onto paper or in a box so that they will be preserved until I get home, where I can put them in action. My family has seen me more than once come in from a ride or run, breathless, and dripping sweat only to run to the computer and open the first blank thing I can get my uncoordinated hands to click so that I can type random thoughts to save for later. When I look at these notes later, often the bubble has burst. The essence of the idea is lost or the eloquent wording that made it all come together was not captured in time - (I kind of feel it's like thinking you've nailed your answering machine message and then you listen to it and want to run screaming at the sound of your own voice).
I think this process is why non-athletes often don't understand what happens to the rest of us when we can't train - it's like trying to think through mud. I've often thought that perhaps a great cancer breakthrough would come if I could just get a team of oncologists to train for a triathlon.
So here's the ultimate problem - how do I get these thoughts and ideas at the time they happen? It's a little tricky to ride or run (don't even get me started on swim) with a pen and paper. The illegibility of the writing, not to mention danger of writing and riding simultaneously, make that solution a no-go.
So, I am putting out a personal ad:
WANTED - Inventor needed . .Triathlete in need of solution. Tons of great ideas, blog posts and solutions for life in general are being lost while swimming, biking and running. Need thought capture that is clear, won't weigh me down, chafe, or get in the way of training progress. Mass marketability for other triathletes a plus. Those applicants with brain surgical solutions need not apply.
Swim. Bike. Run. Repeat. . . and think good thoughts. . .
-Jen
May 29, 2008
The Great Belly Divide
I've decided that the best way to ignore/supplement an early season lackadaisical training plan is to focus on what truly matters - what I'm going to wear when I race. Because seriously, if I can't race as fast as I want to, I should at least try and look good for those inevitably bad looking race course photos (do I really sweat that much? Why is it that I look like I'm running as if I'm going to fall down? Does my face look as if I just ate a lemon?).
When I first started my triathlon "career", if you can call it that, I had know idea what one wore to race. A friend introduced me to the concept of trisuits. (Coach Tom pointed out that there is no changing in the transition area - at least not any that results in naked-ness). I decided that the best thing for me was a two piece outfit, actually three if you count the sports bra I wear underneath. (I am seriously jealous of those of you who seem to wear the same size top as bottom - it just doesn't work for me.)
So, in looking at gear this year, I've decided that what separates me, and most of the amateur women triathletes I know, (other than well speed, fame, and fortune - okay, maybe not fortune, this is triathlon after all) is something I would call The Great Belly Divide. In looking, the classic division between the pros and the rest of us seems to rest somewhere in the expanse of coverage or not of the belly. Obviously, I generalize but you get the idea. . .maybe it's just the willingness or ability to bare large expanses of abdomen.
As much as I would say I am ever trained I have a certain respect and love for the compression of biking/tri shorts for that odd hip/butt jiggle. My body fat would be classified in the "normal but loves brownies" range and I am certainly endowed enough on top to laugh hysterically at the concept of the "built in shelf bra" that comes in most racing gear. I want to be light, and not overly water-logged when coming out of the swim but seriously, I also want abdomen coverage. Some of the pro's racing wear is well, let's just say, of less fabric than most of my daily undergarments.
Amateur racing tops should have descriptions that read: "Made of highly technical wicking materials to quickly dry after the swim and absorb and wick sweat. Other features include: No shelf bra, lifts, separates and eliminates jiggle while on the run, slimming colors that won't look see-through when wet, stretch mark coverage length, and just the right amount of compression to hold in that "never gonna go away" belly bulge. Available in a wide range of sizes." Free shipping and returns wouldn't hurt either. . .
Any triathlon clothing manufacturers hiring? I think I'm on to something. . .
Swim.Bike.Run.Repeat
-Jen
PS. I wore a Sugoi top my first year (I deemed that I looked like a rectangle, Jeff rolled his eyes) but wore Zoot last year (seemed more waist slimming. . . ) The colors/styles seem better this year for all the manufacturers. Anyone have suggestions or things they've tried?
May 28, 2008
Lost at T3
Carla and I met through Team Survivor and did our first triathlon together. We live about 30 minutes apart and during that first summer of training we would meet at the local "Park and Ride" parking lot and carpool to other training locations. We would pull in adjacent parking spaces and Carla would unload bags into my car while I racked her bike on the back. We would pull out of the parking lot and support each others paranoia - "Do we have the helmets?" "Let me check - yes" "What about bike shoes? Running shoes? Goggles?" "Check, check, check." This would go on but you get the idea. We could implicitly understand how important this was to each of us and how nice it was to have someone else soothe our fears without explicitly calling them out for what they were. By the end of the summer we had renamed our ritual "T3" after the T1 (swim to bike transition) and T2 (bike to run transition) that occur in actual races.
Since then I like to say that Carla and I train together. We only see each other about once a month or so given our schedules but it does feel like we are training partners. Carla helps me with my running (she's fast) and I give her pointers on swimming (my forte). When we bike together we have a great rhythm for drafting off of each other. In March, just as we were planning our races for the summer, Carla was in a very serious car accident. She has a fracture in her spine at her neck and a fracture in her pelvis. Right now she is in a neck collar and on crutches. She still has 3 weeks until she will be rid of the neck collar. It will still be another 2-3 months before she can bear weight on her leg. Her racing season this year was over before it started. (Although, she was trying her darnedest to salvage her racing season when she asked the trauma doctors, while in a neck collar and immobilized on a backboard, how long until she could run and bike.)
From what I read, triathlon can be a lonely sport - all the hours of solitary training. I haven't ever felt lonely because I've had such a great group of women racing with me. From the beginning, triathlon, in a way, has seemed a team sport. Women are like that - in it together even when they're not. We each want the best for the other woman's race - even if sometimes that means being passed by a friend. That friend will then wait and cheer you into the finish.
But Carla, I'm feeling lost at T3 this year. Some other poor unsuspecting soul will have to put up with my paranoid checking of my transition area. You might just have to be by the phone come 4 AM on race mornings to make sure I have everything I need - because let's face it, friends don't let friends freak out all alone. In the meantime Carla, heal quickly. I'll do my best to make you proud. . .
-Jen
May 23, 2008
Going Low-Tech
When I first started training for a triathlon I started keeping track of what I did - mostly it was in an effort to encourage myself - to show that for my pain and persistence I was making progress. I went out to Barnes & Noble and bought an on clearance weekly calendar - nothing fancy - just something that I could write down what I did for the day. That was the time I knew nothing about monitoring heart rate, wind speeds, pace, temperature or any of the myriad of things you can track. I wrote down my weight at the beginning and measured my waist and hips so I could measure inches lost as I went along (remember, the original stated goal, although not completely accurate but easy for others to understand, was to lose the "chemo-butt"). Every time I did an activity I would write down how long I had done it. After a month of entries that looked something like, "Ran -sort-of - 40 minutes - COLD!!!" I evolved to, "Ran - 40 minutes - 3 miles - easier breathing (Or sometimes, "felt like I wanted to throw-up.")
A few months later, I learned that logging training is an actual "thing" and I bought a tri-training log. There are a lot of logs out there but I happened to like the aptly named spiral bound TriLog by Tim Houts. It's a 56 week book that has spaces and lines for swimming, biking and running each day of the week. At the end of each week you can total up the minutes or hours in each sport. I liked it because it was both structured and yet unstructured - I could write as much or as little as I wanted and each week fit nicely in the two page spread so I could see a nice at-a-glance of how much I had done. The book it recommended drawing a diagonal line through each day you didn't do anything. Mondays were always my off days so I would draw that line and write OFF or "scheduled off", but the act of having to open the book and draw those diagonal lines when I didn't do anything (and see that reflected when I flipped through the weeks) was actually very motivating. Often I would include reasons ("water park with the kids" or "super-tired, felt crappy") if I had them but also be able to see when I was just being a slacker.
Well, life moved on, more chemo cycles came and went, my immersion into the sport and all its associated gadgets increased - I abandoned my pencil. I now own a Garmin Forerunner 305 - which I love (and at the same time still don't know how to fully use). It tracks my running and biking for me. I then found and started toying around with online logging - Runnersworld.com has a cool training log (understandably more skewed toward running but does understand the triathletes needs). Buckeye Outdoors has some cool logging features too. I thought to myself that it must be more efficient and some how better to use the computer to track myself. Not so. Now I am lazy. I happily let data sit in my Garmin. When laying in bed at night, usually my first thinking (and not reacting) time of day, I have little motivation to get out of my cozy bed to go start the computer to check an online log. And, when using the computer I actually have to click around multiple ways to have an "at a glance" of how I'm doing.
So, I've come to realize that higher tech is not necessarily highly motivating. I'm picking up my pencil and getting back to low-tech. I've recently looked at my logging over the last two years and noticed that while I thought I was just charting my training, I really created an interesting time-line of events in my life. I may not have graphs and charts in my handwritten log but I can lay in bed at night and flip through weeks at a time and marvel at my progress, make plans for the next day or the next week or even just look at how far I've come - no username or password required.
Swim. Bike. Run. Repeat. . .
-Jen
PS. Are you high-tech or low-tech? A logger, planner or just get out there kind of triathlete?
May 21, 2008
Can You See Me Now?
I am not a bumper sticker gal. I certainly have opinions on lots of things, am proud of my kids school achievements but I don't really want to shout them off my bumper. But, the other day I saw a great bumper sticker. The beauty was in its simplicity. It said "Start Seeing Bicycles." No yelling, no honking, no middle-finger waving, just the reminder.
There are many cars out there that need the reminder to start seeing bikes. I've always respected cyclists rights to use the road when I'm in my car, but I became much more aware once I too became a consistent cyclist. Once you've ridden down a trafficked road, you become much more aware that the force of wind generated by a speeding car is definitely felt when on a bike. You also appreciate more those cars that are willing to slow down and give you a wide zone of road when they are passing.
I don't sport a bumper sticker but when I'm in my car and come upon cyclists I always slow considerably, well before I approach them. I'm talking seriously slow - the kind of slow that is actually meant to passively annoy those cars behind you. I keep this ultra slow pace and give a wide berth around the bikes well before I am up at their back wheel. Yes, in some ways I derive a bit pleasure out of trying to annoy the cars behind me when I do this but I have my reasons. I live in an area where most of the cars on the road contain drivers who are late, trying not to be late, or just used to treating the road as their personal autobahn. Perhaps the actions of my car will help them "see" and respond to cyclists the same way in other situations. Non-cyclists may not appreciate the argument that the road is just as much ours as theirs so let's help them see us. . .
-Jen
PS. Don't forget that wearing high visibility (the neon-yellow stuff) clothing and using lights when needed help you be seen. (Or, perhaps a sign, much like a bumper sticker, on your back saying, "Can you see me NOW?") :)
May 20, 2008
Wine (lots), Women (500) and Wheels!!!!
Owner Tim Brick of Brick Wheels in Traverse City, MI has it figured out. Maybe it's because he has two stellar females who work for him, Becky and Kristy, who can advise him on the recipe for success with women. Either way, it works. When you take a bike shop, 20% off, free wine and food, lots of goodies, a silent auction that benefits charity full of great stuff, women will come. And that is exactly what they did last Wednesday night. Five hundred (yes, 500) women attended Brick Wheels 3rd annual Wine Women and Wheels event.
The day started quite rainy but Tim loaned me a Madone and I headed out with Kellie, wife of Trek rep Mike Shrift, for a rainy morning ride. I've never ridden in that much rain and my feet were quite squishy after 20 miles. But, it reinforced that I'm not going to melt in the rain so perhaps I won't be such a wimp about riding in the rain now.
The rain headed out by late afternoon which was perfect because women were lining up for the six o'clock opening of the event well ahead of time. I had heard from Tim that quite a few women had been in the store pre-shopping the week before in preparation for the 20% that goes with the event.
Once the doors opened women filled the store. Wine glasses were filled and a Trek powered margarita machine was pedaled in case wine wasn't your thing. Women munched on cheese, fruit and assorted appetizers while they shopped and talked cycling. They also were able to browse a tent outside filled with donations from local businesses offered in silent auction style. The auction raised over $3,000 for the local Smith Breast Health Center. Oh, and did I mention the music, massages and bike give-away?
I manned a table with the new Trek Ride guides and the new Women Who Ride Club water bottles. The local cycling club was also there and club member John talked Women Who Ride Club with women when I was overtaken (thanks John!).
I met so many women who got involved in cycling for so many reasons. Julie was picking up her new Trek FX 7.3 WSD on Friday and we talked the benefit of technical socks (I swear you'll love 'em Julie). Mary came with her friend wanting to start cycling and we were able to talk the benefits of WSD and the amount of WSD bike offerings to fit the type of riding women wanted to do. All the women were big fans of the Women Who Ride Club concept and how cool the shirt was. I was also proud to be able to hook up some women who had mentioned to me they currently have a group that rides, with someone who came to me wondering how to find other women for rides. I felt like a successful matchmaker!
When the event was done I was on a bit of a women-in-cycling-high (and no it wasn't the wine talking). To see that many women in one place all so passionate about cycling or wanting to become a cyclist was amazing. I tried to take some fun photos to capture the event (with some added notes). Hope you enjoy them. . .
-Jen
PS. I'm not sure I can truly convey what a great event this was - at least not without writing a "War and Peace" sized blog about it. Let's just say I'll be looking to get back to Brick Wheels next May.
May 19, 2008
Plan A, Plan B
Plan A today consisted of the following: Get up at 5:15 to say goodbye to my dad as he headed to the airport to fly home. Get the boys up and off to school by 7:45. Eat breakfast, check e-mail, run a couple of errands, work on organizing my Michigan photos and getting them posted for all of you, taking a nice 31 mile ride that I planned out last night, homework with the boys and then their baseball game. . . .
What really happened today was Plan B. Get up and say goodbye to my dad - check. Get the boys up and off to school - check. Breakfast, e-mail, errands, check, check, check. It was the next part where the wheels pretty much fell off the wagon.
In the midst of organizing my Michigan trip photos and working on a blog posting, loud angry barking erupted from my back yard. I ran to the window to find our dog Kodi, a Siberian Husky who rarely barks, going toe-to-toe (or in this case, bared teeth) with a groundhog. This groundhog was NASTY. It had some fierce looking teeth and kept making strange noises and jumping at Kodi. Kodi wasn't helping the situation by barking right at it and trying to, essentially, attack it. I was FREAKED out. Kodi is fast and we've had our share of rabbit and squirrel nabbings (even a couple of possums) but they don't usually fight back. Plus, yard-kill is so NOT my department.
I yelled, I threw baseballs at Kodi to try and distract her. I tried coaxing with some leftover steak. I tried banging a big metal rake. I turned the hose on full force. Finally it was over and Kodi was bloodied for it. I then spent 3 hours round trip taking Kodi (who left my car with that wet-dog smell) to see my brother-in-law Scott, who is a vet in South New Jersey. One rabies booster and some antibiotics later I returned home.
When I got home the garage door wouldn't work. I had no house key. I had to go through the fence, pull open the glass doors to the porch and then let myself in. Turns out the garage door wasn't broken, we had a power outage.
I'm really working hard on taking things with a grain of salt, but man, today my salt shaker overflowed. The bright spot was Brendan making his pitching debut at baseball tonight and striking out two batters. Later in the game he hit a home-run. We're back home now and I'm in my pajamas. The power is finally back on and I promise you will have pictures of my Michigan trip tomorrow morning. . . .
-Jen
May 14, 2008
A Long Way for My Next Ride
I've come a long way to my next ride. I flew into Grand Rapids Michigan last night and I'm headed to Traverse City today for an event called Wine, Women and Wheels at Trek Dealer Brick Wheels.
This is the third year for this event where the store shuts down and some 400 women turn out to talk and learn bikes, drink wine and celebrate women and fitness.
When the e-mail invite was first distributed, there were 50 RSVP's in 12 minutes. Wow, this is a powerful community of women. (Plus, who doesn't love giveaways and 20% off merchandise (only for women) while helping raise money for the new Smith's Family Breast Health Center).
I'm hoping to get a chance to ride with some women before the event starts. Don't worry, I won't drink and ride at the same time. . . .
Hope to see some of you there.
-Jen
PS. I will fly home on Friday and will hope to share pictures of the event by Monday
May 13, 2008
My Subconscious One-Click
I love to shop online. Amazon.com is my favorite partner in crime. Even the kids know that for almost any question the answer involves the words Google or Amazon used as a verb. I mean, come on, where else can you comparison shop five different products while in your pajamas and waste not a drop of almost $4 gas. And besides, it's not as if there is a triathlete's gear shop dropped on every corner.
Amazon.com and I have such a close knit relationship our family has something called Amazon Prime. Together with my in-laws, we pay a small fee each year and Amazon will Two-Day ship anything to us for free, no matter the size or cost of the order. For $3.99 you can even guarantee yourself an overnight delivery.
Well, apparently, Amazon and my subconscious have been back-checking my blogs and know that improving my mental skills in training and racing are goals for the year. An Amazon package of "hey I didn't order anything, did you?" origins showed up at the door. Inside was the book, "The Triathlete's Guide to Mental Training." Hmmmm. Apparently, my subconscious had felt this a worthy enough goal that it had one-clicked the book with overnight speed right to my door. It was as if that box was yelling, "Surprise, we're on to you and your mental excuse making/fear of failure/fear of a fall/fear of a flat/fear of pain/fears you can't even identify racing mindset!!"
Okay, okay box. . . I'll step away from the mouse and screen and get reading. . . .
-Jen
PS. Could any one write a quick Post-It for my subconscious listing: time, sleep, and oh yeah, new sports bras for immediate delivery?
May 12, 2008
Bikes, Carrots and a Stick
My Mother's Day weekend was great. On Saturday we only had baseball and Cameron made his pitching debut in the first game of kid pitching ever. He did a great job, had fun and quickly adopted his pitching stare-down look along with his official pitching stance. We spent the rest of the weekend planting our enormous garden - cleaning out the strawberry beds, adding way to many tomatoes (we do this every year), peppers, cauliflower, eggplant, cukes, radishes, cantaloupes, and tending the already planted asparagus, lettuce, peas and broccoli. As you can tell this is where I like to highlight how much we love our garden. It's an odd dichotomy that I have a husband who doesn't love dirt and yet this monster garden is mostly his. It is at this point I should put in the disclaimer that I am the one who has overdone the tomatoes this year - usually it is Jeff but I must admit there were too many fun varieties this year. (Who doesn't want to plant a tomato variety called Mr. Stripey?)
On Sunday, where I knew I could pretty much pull out the "You have to do what I want because it's Mother's Day" card, I suggested a bike ride down into Yardley for my favorite (and their too) Yardley Ice House. Sure enough, everyone got on bikes and we meandered down into town. It was windy and actually a bit cold but we made it while teaching the kids that on bikes you sometimes need to take the indirect route and how to ride on the roads. I've been working on getting the kids on their bikes more and I knew that Mother's Day, and the carrot and stick of Italian ice at the end would be enough to lure them into my biking web. The only tough part was the ride home - if you noticed I used the word down a lot for our ride into town. Coming home involved some hills - one seriously steep one. There was some bike walking but I have to say they did a great job. It was a Mother's Day well spent.
-Jen
PS. Ironically, I used Italian ice as my carrot and stick for biking but we did not plant any carrots in our garden :)
May 9, 2008
The Weight of my Wait
In an effort to help fellow blog reader Ginger find a safe and ridable route from work to home next week during National Bike to Work Week, I explored some new routes the other day. It was a bit slow at times because of traffic lights. I waited numerous times, many times praying for a car, to come and hit the light sensor to trigger the light in my favor. This isn't a new phenomenon for me. There is one particular traffic light, at which I need to make a left turn, where no matter how I situate myself on the sensor, I end up waiting for a car. My conclusion has been that I must wait because my weight isn't enough to activate the sensor. Seriously, how many women do you know who would actually wish they weighed more. . .
On Tuesday, I was in some areas that are lightly trafficked - hurray - good for cyclists - and yet felt like an idiot waiting and waiting and waiting at lights that wouldn't change and didn't even have a pedestrian crossing that I could hobble to for help.
When I got home I did a little research and found that those traffic light sensors actually have nothing to do with weight and are most times magnetic. Clearly where I was riding they are not sensitive enough for bikes. So, what's a girl on a bike to do?
Here's what my research found:
Pennsylvania Bike Laws (Title 75 of the Pennsylvania Consolidated Statues): Rules on helmets, lights, signals, speed, brakes etc. . . Nothing on when traffic signals aren't triggered by bikes. But, the code does indicate that bikes fall under the same rules as motor vehicles. Next, I consulted the PA Motor Vehicle Driver's Manual which told me, "a non functioning traffic signal should be treated as though it were a four way STOP (emphasis theirs) signal."
The same site, PA Bike Safe, by the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation lists this advice under a section called Road Riding: "If your bike doesn't trip the detector, you have to wait for a car to do it, or else you have to go through the red light. Going through the red isn't against the law, because the light is defective." Now I have a couple of sources I can cite when I need to proceed cautiously through red lights that won't turn - especially because I actually strive to ride in areas not heavy with cars.
In just doing a Google search for "traffic signals not triggered by bicycle," I found over 395,000 references of cyclists with the same issues, many of whom had actually been issued tickets. It seems that in many areas the solution is wanting you to use pedestrian crossings - a bit tough when wanting to make a left turn and seemingly counterintuitive when all other laws are written that bikes are to adhere to the same rules as cars (not pedestrians). Although I don't know the exact cost, the same PA Bike Safety Reference cited, " Detectors are made that work for bicycles, at little or no additional cost. Federal design guidelines exist for these detectors." Hmmmmm. . . sounds like it's time for some bike advocacy.
When I bought a bike to become a triathlete I never imagined where it could lead me. . .
Ride Safely. Train Smart.
-Jen
May 8, 2008
Counting Down and Stepping Up
There are 25 days of the school year left. Yikes! As I look at the calendar and the flurry of end of year activities - field trips, science fair, cubby clean-out, report cards, I also realize that it is time to step it up. As an amateur triathlete but full-time mom, my training schedule often runs against the grain of most triathletes. I have much more flexibility to train without interrupting family time when the boys are at school. So, I have a month to really step up my workouts and get my tri training into gear before summer fun creates a training calendar that works around the beach, baseball games, the pool, amusement parks and hanging out in pajamas.
I did my first two workout day of the season yesterday. This was after I spent four evenings littering the floor with crumpled paper trying to detail out a weekly plan that fits in three run sessions, three bike sessions, two swim workouts and two strength training workouts. Let's just say the pad of paper, markers and I are still at it.
In the morning, I ran 4 miles starting as I waved to the boys while the school bus pulled away. Decent pace, gave my legs time to work out some of the residual stiffness from the half-marathon. I came home and took care of a bunch of things around the house and by early afternoon headed out for 20 miles on the bike. Returned home from that for stretching, a few more household tasks, quick shower and then got the boys off the bus.
I was wasted with exhaustion and ravenous with hunger. My body reminded me that I have some time and some work to put in before it is once again used to me asking for that much. I needed a nap and a loaf of bread as a snack. Instead, we got ready and left for the boys baseball game. My reward for stepping it up yesterday was waking up this morning to a sudden and massive onset of a head and chest cold. Tomorrow we try, try again (with some DayQuil and tissues in my jersey pockets). . .
-Jen
May 7, 2008
Easily Manipulated
As I hugged my kids goodnight this past Saturday night I asked them to wish me luck in the NJ Half Marathon the next day. I also proposed that maybe sometime they could come watch me run. I was then told that, "watching people run is boring." I held my tongue and did not respond that "watching kids at baseball practice is boring."
With a bedtime of 8 PM I actually got a fairly decent nights sleep and was ready to go at 3:30 AM on Sunday morning - yes you read that right - I'm trying to save on my athletic budget this year so no hotel close to the race the night before. I was on the road by 4:10 with coffee in hand. It was wet and foggy.
Got parked and then discovered that my watch, which I had purposely charged the night before, was completely dead. I guess I screwed up the charging part. I guess this would be a race with no heart rate data or mile splits. We lined up with some 10,000 others at the start, including the official mascot, Larry the Lighthouse. (Seriously, this is a guy who wears a full cardboard lighthouse costume over his head and consistently beats me at all local races.) The gun when off and we. . . stood still. . . .for about 5 minutes - that's how far back from the start we were.
My friend Amy and I ran the first 6 miles together and then we slowly separated. Amy had a watch on and figured we were somewhere between 5 and 6 minutes off of the actual gun time for the race. With no watch myself it became increasingly amusing to try and do clock calculations in my head as I passed mile marker clocks. At around mile 11, a woman passed me and said "you're almost done, now you need to pick it up." Surprisingly, I did. Next I caught up with the marathon 5:00 hour pacer - a man in a full tuxedo (with tails). I heard him talking to those around him about the gun time so I asked him how far off he was. He said he was about a 1:30 off the gun time. I said "OK" with the meaning of "hey, thanks for the information." He took my "OK" as a "hey, I really should pick it up and run that time so that I can beat the 2:30 gun time." He suddenly ran around to the left of me and said "Come on. . ." and started pacing me in a pace that would prove lung bursting at best. I kept up for awhile and then started to fade. He kept going. He then turned, running backwards and started yelling at me - in an encouraging way. At this point we were running along the boardwalk, where the race finishes, and I was trying to fight the visual confusion that happens when you are more than two hours into a race and suddenly faced with a long stretch horizontal boards that are moving under your feet. I finally saw the finish, whereby tuxedo-man started screaming "you only have 30 seconds left." I gave it all I had and crossed the line at the guntime of 2:29:57. My actual chip time for the race was 2:24:22 - a nice 11:01/mile with a controlled and easy conversational pace for all but that last mile and a half.
I was so proud of this race for so many reasons. I actually felt good about and now know that I can complete a decent 13.1 miles. I was able to run through water stops and actually drink water without getting it up my nose or all over the front of myself. I learned how to properly fuel myself during a race. I learned that I can actually negative split a long distance. And, I learned that if I am SO easily manipulated when facing exhaustion. What made me actually listen to, and follow the instructions of, those runners/pacers I didn't even know? I have no idea but it certainly demonstrated that I need to train more with others because clearly other people have the ability to push me more than I can sometimes push myself. Any long distance traing partners out there. . . ?
-Jen
May 2, 2008
Where's the Sweat?
No pain, no gain. We all know the phrase and I have always sub-consciously bought into the theory. When I first started learning to train I was all about the sweat of a good workout. Part of that good sweat may have come from the fact that I started training in the late winter and knew nothing about "wicking" materials or the "don't wear cotton socks" rule. I followed up my growing pile of stinky workout clothes with the muscle soreness that made laundering them it's own painful workout. Let's just say that I've always equated my athletic progress with a good deal of self-same pain. If you can't feel (and subsequently complain about) the workout, did it have any purpose?
So, when Coach Tom presented me with a tri training plan for this year, I was a bit skeptical. His plan had a good 10 weeks of base training - a period of time when you are simply working on your endurance and fitness base. Okay, so what does that mean? It means taking away my speed (let's remember this is speed as I define it). Base training is all about low aerobic heart rate. Tom was asking me to abandon all that I hold dear in measuring my progress - pace. Every time I can come in from a ride or run and chart myself as having gone farther faster, I celebrate. Base training is asking me to put faith in a much bigger and longer process that I can't necessarily see happening.
And so I have taken the leap. I have become faithful only to the beep of my heart rate on my watch - at first having to close one eye so that I wouldn't see how painfully slow and plodding my progress seemed to be. I have slowly become accustomed to not covering as much ground. The irony is that I actually have time to look around and notice much more around me at these slower speeds (not that I was ever traveling at a scenery-blurring pace to begin with, but I think you can appreciate the sentiment). The one thing though that still bothers me when I return home each workout is the ever lingering question, "Where's the sweat?" Now I know come July and August I will probably rue the day I ever typed these words into the blog-o-sphere but seriously, can I really trust that a "workout" has been done when I have no sweaty aftermath to show for it?
Because he's the coach and I'm the, gulp, athlete, I'm gonna wing it and trust Tom on this one. So, if you see me out training, I'll be the one who is barely moving and still looking fresh and dry. . .
Swim. Bike. Run. Repeat. . .
-Jen
When I train there is peace. Call it a runner's high, an endorphin high, or whatever you want, but somewhere in the mix of blood flowing, endorphins working, or the rhythm of legs moving, I find a certain zen. Sometimes it's at mile 2 of a run. Last week it didn't happen until mile 16 of a ride. Whatever the perfect storm of endorphins and sweat, it allows me to think clearly. I suddenly find myself solving problems (how do you get two kids in three places when you are just one person?), to creating the perfect training strategies, to blog writing, to discovering things about myself as a person or as a mom. 
