FTD (Frustrated Triathlete Disorder)

I’m looking for a term to describe my current mental state (no trolls please) because it, logically, has me completely baffled.  I am hitting my mileages, workout frequency (for the most part), intensity and duration.  The only thing that is not going 100 percent as I had planned is my weight loss is painfully slow.  However, everything else is actually ahead of where I need to be.  But in general I am frustrated and irritated with the whole process.  I don’t like any workout I do, I’m hypercritical about everything and feel like even if I work out 10 times a day, it’s not enough.  And no.  By nature or clinical definition I am NOT OCD, ADD or any other D you can think of.

Rather than drool on and on (yes, I said “Drool”) about why I’m feeling this way, over the last week I have started to come up with ways to break the cycle.  I have several theories and ideas that may help anyone who is feeling that same “nothing is good enough” feeling.

1. Break it up- The problem with triathlons is that your life becomes this… “swimbikerunswimbike/runbike/runswim/eat/sleep…repeat.  While, for me, this is far more appealing than the runrunruneatrunrunrunnaprunrunsleep life of a marathoner, it still gets old.  I was happiest this spring when I had a wide variety of workouts to choose from.  besides swim/bike/run I was also lifting weights, trail running, mountain biking, hiking and so on.  Just enjoying the movement.  The last month and a half have been pretty dedicated to just triathlon.  This is fine because that is what I like, but I need to be honest.  I really enjoy the workouts more than the competitions anyway.  And honestly, I can’t afford too many triathlons.  Especially the longer ones.  They are just too expensive.  So I’m looking to break things up.  I’ve been thinking about adding a trail hill repeat in on a nice long hill at Rhett’s run.  I have a pair of 5 wheel speed skates that I used to love to exercise on I just need to find a circuit someplace with relatively smooth roads.  Distance skating is an AMAZING leg workout.  It’s not like these different workouts won’t help my fitness and they will certainly help my mental state.
2. Leave the watch at home- I’m finding myself falling into that data trap again.  Being frustrated when I don’t do better on the same course each time.  I have to remind myself I’m not a professional or even a competitive athlete.  My numbers mean nothing.  Who gives a crap?  I still have to go to work on Monday because I’m not getting paid for it.  I choose to do this to myself so I at least need to have FUN with it.  Sometimes I lose sight of the the most important reason for doing all of this.  Fitness.  My health.  I have witnessed first hand the inverse relationship between running a mile and running a mile as fast as you can.  The possibility you are going to get frustrated or hurt greatly increases as you try to push yourself to go faster.  And I have serious doubts that my fitness level is THAT much worse because I run a 7:30 mile instead of a 7:00 minute mile.  It’s a helluva lot better than if I was NOT running because I got hurt or frustrated and gave up.  Leaving the watch at home and just running or riding by feel teaches me to listen to my body.  Why do I need to record my mileage on a route I have run or ridden 20 times?  But seeing that I went 3 seconds slower this time than I did last time is frustration that I don’t need.
3. Focus on nutrition- I think I have my workouts planned.  I’m good with that.  Now I need a nutrition plan.  I’ve been reading a lot about the whole “You lose inches at the gym and pounds in the kitchen” philosophy and I tend to agree with it.  Perhaps not to the obsessive level of some, but I know I need to eat better.  And I know for sure that I don’t take in enough fluids.  Both when working out AND in general.  So now that the season is really underway and I have plenty of workout options, I need to start making menus.  It’s not as easy as it sounds.
4. Finalize my plans- I have everything set… in my mind… for the season.  But I still haven’t signed up for the rest of my races.  I need to sign up for Quartermax, a race in July, Kirksville and then the Half Iron distance at Redman (and the Sprint).  It think if I get those races on the schedule so they are real, it will help me focus.  I also need to go into each race with a plan.  Not just show up and do them.

Sounds pretty simple.  Oh… and don’t forget to keep the lawn mowed…

I choose to run. That makes me a runner.

Is it possible that some people are just not “made to be runners”?

This was a quote one of our club members posted on their Facebook timeline this afternoon.

I have asked myself this or similar questions in the past.  It is so easy to get caught up in the numbers.  The times, the distances, the weight, the inches.  It is so frustrating to see other people seemingly change and conquer overnight.  They eat what they want and drink like fish and still set PR’s seemingly every time they go out.  It is easy to blame genetics and say they were just “made to be runners”.

But I think, while genetics does play a role in how successful you are as a competitive athlete of any kind.  We are all capable of being runners.  We are all “made to run”.  I, for example, am not your typical “runner”.  Legs like stumps.  Cows instead of calves.  Upper body like a cave troll (and thick head to boot).  Is that the definition of runner?  Rugby player, maybe… but not “runner”.  But do I run?  Absolutely.  Do I love it?  You bet.  Am I “made to be a runner”?

No.  But I made myself into one anyway.  As I started running again after a 10 year hiatus due to a horrific back injury, I wondered if I would ever be a runner.  I wondered what defined a runner.  Was it miles?  As I went from one mile to five to ten to a marathon, I still wondered.  The marathon nearly took me out of running for good… again.  Another year off due to a fractured pelvis had me wondering if I was a runner because I couldn’t run marathon distance… does that define a runner?  I guess it kind of does.  If that is what you believe.

There is only one person who can truly “make you” a runner.

You.

Not genetics or god or your spouse or personal trainers or Dr. Phil.  Just like anything else in life, the only way you are going to do it is if YOU want to.  If YOU think it is the right thing to do.  YOU make the runner. Don’t believe me?  Watch this.  His doctors told him he could never run again:

Never Give up

The point is, we can be just about anything we choose to be.  And YOU define what a “runner” is by how hard you work and by the choices you make.  And running is a brutal sport in that there is nobody but you to credit when you succeed… and nobody to blame if you fail.

I love this image:

No, I don’t think I look like a hot chick when I run.  FOCUS!  Follow me here…

It cracks me up because it is so true.  When I am really into a run I feel strong and powerful.  It’s effortless.  I’m in total control.  However, having seen several pictures and videos of me when I’m “really into it”, I do look more like the dog.  Floppy, crooked, saggy and barely in control.

Does that mean I’m not a runner?

No.  It means I’m giving it all I’ve got.  Total effort and focus on being as good as I can be in that moment.  And it doesn’t matter to me whether I am at the pointy end of the pack or DFL, I’m still being the best runner I can be at that moment.

I guess it all boils down to what your personal definition of a runner is.  Is it that flyboy or girl smoking down the trail like a gazelle making 6 minute miles look easy?  Is it that muscular stud or studette that makes us either aspire to never eat again so we can look like them or find the nearest potato sack to crawl into out of shame?  Or is it you when you look in the mirror.  Comparing yourself to no one else but yourself.  Striving every day to be a little better or go a little farther because you WANT to.

My definition of a runner is simple.  It’s anyone who WANTS to run and does it because they choose to.  Because they enjoy it.  Because they think it is a beautiful sport and it makes them feel good inside and out.

I’ve said this a million times.  Extremely few of us get paid to put ourselves through the agony we choose to call exercise.  And yes, those people ARE genetically predisposed to greatness.  So why do we do it?  Those great runners still lace their shoes up just like we floppy, slobbery Bassett Hounds do.  We all hit the trail or the street as hard as we can.  And whether or not we run 15 minute miles or 5 minute miles, we are all “made to be runners” because we choose to run.

Race Report: Trizou

OK… Now I officially feel like I’m back.

Last year life reared its ugly head.  It happens.  I have always said “family first” and I mean that.  Everything else is secondary.  Especially something as trivial as triathlons.  And yes, I mean that.  As much as we who do them tend to obsess about pounds, inches, watts, mets and milliseconds, what it all boils down to is that when I look at the top 3 most important things in my life, triathlons (and any other fitness pursuits) aren’t in it.  That doesn’t mean it’s not important.  On the contrary, it is VERY important.  Maybe 4 or 5 on the list.  But when number 1 or 2 is not going well, everything else has to wait.  Thus went last year.  In triathlon terms, I signed up for 8 races (2 running, 6 triathlon) but only managed to actually compete in 3 of them.  My fitness lagged and I gained weight (nobody’s fault but my own).

But things turned around at the end of the year.  I started back on a fitness schedule and have had a lot of success so far.  I have made some changes in gear and training that have really helped.  But, oddly enough, I’m not looking for momentum here or to continue increasing speeds, etc.  No, I just want to compete in every race I sign up for and work out as much as I can.  The Trizou Triathlon in Columbia, on the campus of the University of Missouri, was the first real test.

Setup:

This is a good race.  Lots of competitors (over 560 competed in the triathlon), good competition, great venue and lots of support.  The swim (400m) is in the world class pool on the campus of the University of Missouri.  The bike (14mi) is a criterium like two lap course with 2 decent hills in it, each done twice.  The run (3mi) is through the Mizzou campus and is relatively flat.  This would be my third time doing this race.  Last year I could only muster the energy to do the duathlon.

I hate pool swims.  Always have.  I’m not a pool swimmer.  I don’t do flip turns and I really hate waiting in line.  But I decided to do this race anyway, just to get me back into it.  The only downside to this race is with 600+ competitors, since I swim this distance in about 8:30, all of the 6-8 minute swimmers get to go first.  one every 10 seconds.  That put about 350 people in front of me.  It also means you have to stand in line for the hour or so it takes to get to you.  Very much like a Disneyland ride…  Stand in line for hours for 45 seconds of sheer terror… Or something like that.

Anyway, idle talk and meeting new people always makes the time go faster.  I met some people from Springfield, MO, where I stay quite a bit when I work, so I may have made some new workout buddies when I go there!  That would be cool.

Race day:

I packed up my stuff the night before.  I found it to be easier than I had remembered.  I kept staring at the back of the car thinking that I was forgetting something.  By 9pm I was loaded up and ready to go.  I got poor sleep as usual and then woke up at 3:30am for good.  Transition opened at 5am so this gave me enough time to grab some coffee and cereal (not too worried about race day nutrition since this is such a short race) and get going.  I got to the site at about 4:45 and there were already lots of people milling about.  Transition opened at 5am as promised.  The transition area for this race is on a jogging track that goes around some multi use recreation fields.  I little unorthodox but it works.  It makes your transition HUGE though and transition times are gigantic (my T1 time was almost 3 minutes.  Most transitions I’m out in under 1 minute) since no matter where you are, you have to run 250 yards or so just to get out of the transition area.  There is no disadvantage to it as everyone must do it.

The weather was HOT.  The overnight low was only 68 and as soon as the sun came up, the temps went up too.  No wind or clouds.  Slight chance of rain.  I know this doesn’t sound like hot weather, but running at the end of ANY race when the temps are in the 80s… sucks.

Transition:

I set up my bike on our assigned racks.  It was by race number, which I like more than the age group racking they used to do.  No arguments.  Just one rack for 6 bikes, no questions asked.  Plenty of room.  I set up next to another CMC member, Chris, and by 5:10am I was done.  I was relieved to see that I was close to bike out, since I was going to just run in my bike shoes.  The whole “clip your shoes on to your bike and get into them while you are riding” thing never really worked for me.  I never practiced it enough to be proficient which meant I just weaved dangerously all over the road until I finally got into my shoes.  I don’t think there was much of a time advantage to it anyway.  Once everything was set up, I wandered around looking at the ever growing racks full of bike porn, said hi to friends and made some new ones.  Then when the pool finally opened up for warm ups, I headed up there just to watch.  It wouldn’t make any sense for me to get in and warm up though since it would be over an hour from the time I warmed up until I got in the pool for real.  Still fun to watch the good swimmers go though!

Race time!

Swim

The pool entry for this race is awkward.  It’s a time trial start and you get counted down, walk gingerly to the pool edge, jump (not dive) in right at the wall and then push off and go.  I was surprised that I did it as well as I did.  I got a good kick off the wall and was underway.  I debated heavily with myself whether or not to swim with my tri top on or just tuck it into my shorts.  I never swim with it and feel it slows me down, but finally just gave up and left it on.  In hindsight, this was a bad choice.  I was uncomfortable the entire time and since it is loose now (yay!) I could feel it flapping in the water.  I think it also threw off my balance.  I never really got in a rhythm and didn’t feel like I was getting any glide out of my stroke at all.  The walls were a disaster for me.  I couldn’t judge where I was at since it was a new pool so I either crashed into them or stopped way too soon and… oh it was just a mess.  I didn’t clock myself with the lane lines though when I dove under them and I only got caught by one person, so I think I was pretty much in the right spot.  I checked my watch coming out and it said 8:40 (although my official time was 9:30… which I still don’t get…) I hit my watch again as I crossed the transition mat and headed out the door.

T1

Usually when you come out the door of a warm pool and you are soaking wet, you get this chilling blast of morning air.  Umm… no.  How about a wave of humid heat…  Lovely.  Because of construction on campus the run in and out of transition was nearly a half mile!  Too funny.  I got to my bike with no problems, got my shoes on and grabbed my helmet, then realized my glasses were not with it.  It took me several seconds to find them (they had been knocked off and were on the ground by my bag).  The whole transition felt uncomfortable and odd.  Probably just because I haven’t done one in so long.  I wasn’t as disoriented as usual coming out of the pool though.  I hit my watch (which I later found was useless as it had somehow shut off) again at the mount line (clock time 2:51!!) and very awkwardly (stupid pedals) set off on the bike

Bike

This bike route is not your average tri route.  It has several sharp, off camber corners and a tunnel with a blind turn at the end to negotiate so you can’t just jump on, put your head down and spin.  Any average over 20mph here is pretty good.  That was my goal.  I didn’t really care if it borked the rest of the race for me… by god I wanted 20+ on the bike.

I will resist the urge to gush here about my bike.  The Valdora PHX I got this winter is, let’s just say, the right bike for me.  I have no problems or complaints about this bike.  I only hope to one day have the motor to power it like it needs to be powered.  I can’t wait til the day I get a good set of race wheels for this bike…  wow…

Moving on.  The only thing I really paid attention to this time was cadence.  I wanted to keep it high and push as big a gear as I could.  The two big hills, each done twice, were not as intimidating as they had been in the past since I had done plenty of hill training and was really feeling good about my preparation.  After a clunky start in which I missed my pedals a couple of times, I headed out and noticed immediately that my cadence was good.  Through the sharp turns and tunnel, the bike felt light and maneuverable.  I stayed aero a lot more than usual and actually found I was running out of RPM to keep up with my speed on the downhills.  At one point on one of the downs I had to have been spinning at 130 rpm or more.  I finally just coasted a bit when I felt myself starting to bounce in the saddle trying to keep up.  I got my breathing under control and started picking people off.  In 14 miles I had to have passed 75 people.  I got passed once but it was by one of the really fast guys.  We traded passes with him catching me on the ups and me catching him on the flats and downs.  I only knew he was one of the fast guys because we made the turn at the halfway point together and he turned in to go back and I still had a lap to go…

I could actually feel myself getting stronger on the second lap and was really smooth and powerful in spots that I remember I struggled last year.  The hills seemed flatter…  The second lap was uneventful and I made the turn to go back through the tunnel (a hairpin, off camber turn over a bump into a parking lot… sound fun?).  I actually remembered to start getting out of my shoes and hopped off the bike to find the usual bike legs.  I knew to just ignore them and move on.  The only other thing I noticed was that after I stopped and there was no longer any self generated wind from the bike… it got hot.

T2

I got to my rack and dumped the bike, got into my shoes and grabbed my hat and race belt.  All good.  I was a minute faster getting out of transition, but that was still almost 2 minutes!  Did I mention that transition was kind of big?

Run

Yes.  The first mile felt like crap.  But besides the sluggishness of bike legs there was another reason.  It was HOT!  And the first mile was pretty much running with the wind so there was NO breeze.  I know a month from now I will be begging for run temps in the high 70s but since this was my first hot weather race, allow me to whine a bit.  But three things happened to make it all better.  My bike legs went away pretty quickly so I felt like I was running better.  The first aid station at the 1 mile mark had cold water that I dumped on my head.  I turned at the aid station to run a different direction and caught a nice breeze to cool me off.  Life was good.  More cold water at mile marker 2 and a downhill to flat finish to end the day.

Takeaways

1.  Although my overall time was a PR by a few minutes, I feel like I am getting worse…  I finished in the top 25 percent overall, but was 14th out of 30(something) in my age group.  Even though I went up an age group…

Why?

Because the guys that are still racing in my age group are damned serious about it.  Most of them are through with kids and have time (and money) to be pretty hardcore.  I’ve never been about medals and podiums, but these guys are to be admired and aspired to.  Heck, the overall amateur finisher was 50!  And most of these guys (locally) pound me into the ground like a tent stake on training nights so to “compete” I have a long way to go.  But that is a good thing.  Knowing that I can still improve even as I get older actually keeps me motivated.

2.  Even though I took over a minute off my swim time, it is my weakest area.  I plan to do a half ironman this fall and really need to work on swimming all summer.

3.  I could have gone faster on the bike.  I still held back too much.

4.  I think I also had something left at the end of the run.  Not sure why I didn’t leave it on the course…?  Maybe I was afraid of the heat…

5.  Triathletes remain the coolest people on the planet.

So now it’s time to stretch out the mileages.  1200 yard minimum main sets (2500 total yards minimum) in the water, 25 mile minimum rides (60-70 mile, long rides) and 10K runs (10-13 mile, long runs) are on the menu until after Quartermax in Innsbrook.  More bricks, too.  From now on, no bike rides without a run afterwards.  Time to go long!

Behind a bit… and a race report.

April 7 was the MaxTrax Duathlon and with all my good intentions to blog about it aside, life just got in the way.  More specifically, a trip for business to a conference in Phoenix, AZ kind of had me scrambling to get some domestic stuff done and get caught up on the work I wouldn’t be doing for 4 days…  The good news is that I went to this conference as an attendee so I had no pressure except to learn as much as possible.  That was a nice change.  The hotel was supposed to have a nice pool and gym so the other pressure was to bring enough workout stuff with me and not to forget my goggles!

In a quick summary of the week, I got one swim in.  The pool, although gorgeous and plenty long (33 yards) had some problems.  First, it was only 3 feet deep at the ends so I was knuckle dragging a lot and skinned my hands up a bit.  The other problem was there was no lane line and the pool bottom was very hard to read so I crashed into the wall several times before I finally just gave up and watched the sunrise from the pool.  I got one ride in on a stationary and went for a 5.5 mile run through the downtown and Encanto neighborhoods.  The route was provided by the hotel and was really nice (except for one sketchy road crossing) and went through some beautiful neighborhoods.  If I had to give myself a grade on exercise for this trip I would say a C.  I could have done more, I just didn’t.  Don’t ask about the eating though…  D-… Only because I had yogurt for breakfast…  It was ugly… but sooo good…

OK.  Nutritional failings aside… MaxTrax.

I use this race as the official kickoff to my season every year.  It is 2 miles from my house, reasonably well attended, well run and just plain fun to do.  I always do the short course, for no other reason than I like to start small.  This race is more about transitions and running on tired legs.

The Course:

The bike course is 7.5 miles through rural roads with one big hill, right at the end.  It is all big gear and even the big hill can just be charged up and is over before you know it.  My goal for this ride was to average 20+ mph.  This ride is basically a dead sprint the whole way.

The run is a 1.5 mile loop through a neighborhood.  It is basically downhill for the first half and then back up for the second half.  Just plain mean if you ask me, but still a fun challenge.  My goal here was to be within 40 seconds from my first and second runs.  Had no time goal so I just decided to push a little on the first run and then see what happened.

The race:

Conditions in the morning were a bit chilly.  It was sunny but breezy and the temps were around 45-50 degrees.  There were clouds to our southwest that kept getting thicker and darker so there was a little urgency to get going, but it held off (until the awards ceremony).  The nervous energy and camaraderie are always fun to feel again after a winter layoff and it was good to see everyone again.  Also looking at the bike porn is always fun.  Santa was very kind to some people…

The long course racers went off first and then we lined up.  At go, I settled in and tried to reign in the horses.  I wanted to go really fast but knew better.  The course is supposed to stay on sidewalks, but that is kind of impossible and I was a law breaker and ran on the road.  I’m safe enough and I know the course well enough not to get into too much trouble.  It’s safer than dodging dogs, kids, trashcans and people backing out of their garages.  I hit a pace on the downhill section that felt good and I noticed that even though I was running faster I wasn’t breathing hard.  I hit the uphill hard and came into transition at a 7:06 average for the first leg.  Nice!

Transition felt a little clunky.  I decided last year to give up on the whole clip your shoes in and run barefoot thing.  I don’t do enough triathlons or practice to make getting into my shoes on the bike anything but hazardous to me and everyone around me so screw it.  I’ll just try to get a spot close to bike out if I can and just run in my bike shoes.  I still get out of them and leave them on the bike for the bike/run transition, but that is easier and safer to do.  The clunkiness came in just being smooth and getting everything on in the right order.  I was still out in under 45 seconds but it could have been better.

The bike is just feeling fantastic right now.  I feel strong and smooth and comfortable.  Hills don’t intimidate me any more and, in fact, I want to attack them.  I have a lot more power than I had last year and it shows on the hills.  Once I settled in I just locked into my aero position and never came out until the last uphill sprint to the transition.  My average was 20.5mph which is exactly what I wanted (plus a little).  I felt like I could have maintained that pace for days.

The second transition was no better than the first.  I almost took off with my helmet on and my shoes didn’t want to go back on so I stumbled around a bit but I still got out pretty quick  I’m guessing (didn’t get the numbers) it was about 30 seconds.

The second run had the predictable heavy legs but I just tried to ignore it and it shook out pretty fast.  I find that keeping my cadence up really helps shake it out pretty fast.  Here is where I made my only mistake of the day.  I held back a bit going down the hill.  I was worried I would blow up on the last uphill if I didn’t save some gas.  This is an old habit from being afraid of hills and it cost me.  I pounded the uphill on the last leg and charged the finish but the damage had been done.  I was about 50 seconds slower on my second leg and I shouldn’t have been.  I could have gone faster and I knew it.

In all I had a very good race.  I finished 5th overall and first in my age group.  Even with that extra 50 seconds it would have been a dead sprint between me and number 4 and there was 30 seconds in front of that to a podium finish.  That wasn’t the point anyway.  I met all but one of my goals for the race and had a great time.  I’m fired up for the rest of the season and really confident in my ability to stretch my distances.  I rode 55 miles the next day at about 18 mph and had enough gas to run 2 miles at an 8 minute pace afterwards.

Now it’s time to focus on TriZou.  I have 3 weeks to basically work on speed and hills.  The bike course for this race has two decent hills in it and you have to do them twice so the more hill work I can get, the better.  I also sense some track nights in my future.  I need to start getting a feel for where redline is since it seems to be slightly higher that it used to be

How do you run these things, again?

I’ve got my first multi sport race of the season coming up this Saturday and I’m just not sure what to make of it.  I had one of my fastest rides ever tonight.  I hung with the big boys all the way to the end of the long route, going just a tick over 21.5mph for 27 miles.  That’s moving.  In my first/last/only 5k of the season I had a fast mile at 6:58.  These two times, combined, could mean a great race on Saturday…

I decided to use this race, the MaxTrax Duathlon, as my first and shortest multi sport race of the season.  I chose to do the short course, which is 1.5/7.5/1.5.  I did this deliberately.  I know I could clean the long course without a problem but I want to start small and build all year.  Granted, kicking things off with a half marathon wasn’t exactly “small”, but I did that for different reasons.  Nope, my plan is to do this duathlon, then the TriZou sprint triathlon, then the Sedalia Duathlon (long), and then move the Innsbrook Olympic (TOUGH course), maybe one more olympic in July, then Kirksville at half Iron pace and then the half iron at Redman in OKC (and maybe the sprint the next day if I can) to finish off the year.  Start small and grow.

My dilemma is how fast to run this race?  I feel now like I could destroy this race.  Perhaps even challenge for a podium spot.  I would think that a couple of 1.5 mile runs at sub 7 pace and a 21mph + ride would be pretty strong.  I think, given my much improved state of fitness, that this is a reasonable goal.  But what I want is consistency.  I don’t care how fast I run the first leg, I just want to run both legs the same.  Last year, I ran the first leg at about a 7 min mile pace.  But showed my lack of fitness in the second run leg with a nearly 2 minute drop.  Not good.

So… Do I destroy the first leg and the ride and then just deal with the aftermath on the final run leg?  Or do I shoot for about a 7 minute mile first leg, a 21mph bike and (hopefully) a consistent second run?  Gah!  Duathlons are hard to strategize…

But you know…?  It’s damn fun to kick around those kind of numbers for this or any race…   I’ll let you know how it went on Saturday!

… on not being “that” guy… and a race report.

As I was driving to Sedalia this weekend to run a half marathon, I suddenly found myself thinking about why I was doing this.  The race, I mean.  It all boiled down to that this was just a training run.  A test of fitness.  A chance to work on pace.  And then I thought… “Holy crap…”  I don’t wanna be “that” guy!  You know the one that destroys your hopes, dreams and self esteem by totally blowing off the race you have been training for for months by calling it a “training run” or a “C” race…?  Those uppity, snooty scrawny bastards used to really piss me off by making it sound so easy.  Like they could just as easily have been running at home, but they just wanted an extra shirt.

My worry was not that I had gotten uppity or snooty.  I know better.  I’m a better person than that and I totally respect the sport and anyone who dares to try it.  And I am nowhere near good enough to be blowing off any race any time.  No, my worry was that I had gotten complacent.  That I wasn’t taking it seriously enough.  That treating this like any other run but with aid stations and a clock was a dangerous game to play.  A half marathon IS serious and can be everything from uncomfortable to downright dangerous if you treat it lightly.  But more than that.  ANY race, be it a fun mile or an ultramarathon, has to be taken seriously.  It is inevitable that the moment I become lax in my preparation or concentration is the moment stupid stuff happens.

So now… I’m half way to Sedalia (about an hour from me) on race morning and I start to panic.  Am I ready for this?  Not just race prepped, but what is my plan?  Am I dressed right?  What about water?  Did I hydrate enough before the race?  The longest I ran to get ready for the race was 12 miles… is that enough?

So in a little less than a half hour, in the car, on the way to a race that I hadn’t even brought a change of socks for, I vowed to get serious.  I know, I know… It’s like saying “stop or I’ll shoot” AFTER you pull the trigger.  But what I mean is, I have always taken this race seriously or I wouldn’t have signed up for it.  But how was I going to run it.  I had no goal pace.  No strategy for survival.  Just an extra shirt to change into when I was done.

So thinking about my goals for the year and where this race fit into them, this is what I came up with.

1. Cross the finish line upright and breathing
2. Try to set an 8:30 pace and stick with it for the first two miles to see how I felt.
3. Pick a race pace by mile three (it usually takes me that long to get warmed up) that I thought I could stick with for the rest of the race.
4. Attack the ups
5. Cruise the downs
6. Pace the flats
7. Enjoy the ride!
8. Anything under 2 hours would mean a successful race.

I rolled into the parking lot for the race and ran through my checklist.  Hat, sunglasses, water bottle (I carried my own for this race, even though there were plenty of stops), shoes double knotted, sunscreen.  OK… ready.

After checking in and getting my packet, I just settled down and tried to relax.  I was early (as usual) so I chatted a bit, fretted about my knee, went to the bathroom… the usual.  I was kind of upset with myself because there were no pre race jitters.  In fact, I was having a tough time getting fired up at all.  I just wanted to get moving.  I warmed up a little through a neighborhood and then wandered back to the registration area and listened to the excited conversations.  This person was doing another half marathon in a week, that person was a first timer and was terrified, etc.  Someone asked me if I was ready and I replied “I’ll let you know in 13.1 miles”.  I really didn’t know.

We moved over to the starting line, the race director mumbled something about running on the left side of the road and then said “GO”.  And we were off and running.

The race started with the 5K and half marathoners together.  The 5K just went out a mile on the main race route and turned around.  The first (almost) mile was a loop through a neighborhood and then out on to open country roads west of Sedalia.  Pretty farm country and fairly lightly traveled.  The drivers were all nice and courteous and at least somewhat patient.  You could tell most of them had seen this race  before…   I didn’t really have anyone I had planned to run with but was happy when my friend Jake from the club joined me.  We talked through the first mile as the runners settled out.  I kind of got the feel for who was running about my pace and just settled in.

MILES 1 to 3

Jake and I ran through the first mile marker at about 8:30.  Dead on what I wanted.  A systems check let me know that I felt really good and relaxed and was running easy.  I was still able to say full sentences without huffing and puffing.  As the route left the neighborhood and moved out on to the road, the terrain would be what I would call gently rolling.  There were a couple of hills that were long, but not terribly steep.  Mile two went down and then back up.  I was at about 8:39 for that mile.  Mile three continued up and then flattened off.  I hit it at 8:36.  Frighteningly consistent for having NOT worked on pace.  I think it was at about this point that I told Jake that this was a good pace for me.  He said he wanted to back off a bit and we parted company.

Miles 4 to halfway

Miles 4-6 were almost dead even with each other.  Between 8:30 and 8:32.  I tried to drink from my bottle every time I came through an aid station just as a reminder, but I really liked having there for a sip in between them as well.  The temperature at race time was around 65.  It warmed up a little but then the clouds moved in and I thanked the running gods for that one.  It would have been pretty hot otherwise.  Finish line temperature was about 78.  I would love to say that the scenery was varied, but it was just big farms and fields.  Pretty, if you like that sort of thing.  Boring if you don’t.  I occupied my mind thinking about, of all things, tractors.  It’s a long and wandering story… don’t ask.

After the first mile loop, the course goes out another 6 miles and then comes back on the same road.  I got to see a lot of my faster friends on the way back and cheer them on.  When I grow up… I wanna be that fast.  I hit the turnaround with an 8:24 mile (slightly downhill) and felt really good.  Almost too good.  Uncomfortably good.  Of course my mind wandered to the darkness that always follows me in a race… When will the wheels come off?

MILES 8-11

I didn’t have to wait long for my body to report a problem.  Blisters.  I NEVER get blisters.  But I guess my old socks need to be replaced because I started to feel a hotspot on the ball of my left foot at mile 8 (8:29).  But what do you do?  It’s a small race with 2 aid stations between me and the finish and unless there is a boy scout or a very prepared mom manning one of them… I’m screwed.  So I just sucked it up and ignored it.  I think part of the problem was that the road had a pretty high crown and running on the opposite side of the road that I usually run on threw my gait off a little.  Mile 9 was starting to get warm but also went down a pretty good sized hill so I ran it at 8:22.  I kept thinking “this is about the point I start to implode… why do I feel so good?”  A flat, uneventful mile 10 at 8:32 got me to do a pretty deep self analysis.  OK, legs… good.  Lungs… good.  Brain… (questionable) good.  Hydration… better than it’s ever been (really?).  Well then… there is no sense leaving anything in the bag then… is there?  Mile 11 I picked up the pace for and ran an 8:16.

MILES 12 and 13

Mile 12 is pretty flat so I knew I was pushing the pace a little when I could feel myself breathing hard for the first time all day.  I told myself “you SHOULD be breathing hard!  This is the farthest you have gone all year!”  I hit the 12 mile mark at 8:06!  If I had paid more attention I might have even run harder just to have one mile under 8…   The course finishes the last mile on an uphill…  Yes, the course designers are evil.  Not a bad uphill, but any uphill at mile 13 isn’t pleasant.  I saw a guy in front of me grab his hamstring and pull up with a cramp.  I just put my head down and said “don’t be that guy”, but my hydration was good.  Not even a hint of a cramp all day.  I rounded the corner into the school parking lot and crossed the finish line with an 8:22 uphill mile as the last mile of a half marathon.  My first thought was… I could have run faster…  I’ve never said that before after a half… O.o

My overall time was 1:51:47.  A PR by about a minute.  I’m relatively certain that if I keep training I can easily get under 1:50:00.  Now… whether or not I can do that after 56 miles on a bike and a 1.2 mile swim…?  I’ll let you know at the end of September…

Intervals… defined (or, how to be a Klingon)

The intervals I am about to define are for bicycling as a part of triathlon training.  They can be done in any sport but for the purposes of this post, I will focus on bicycling.  I will attempt to define the major parts of an interval ride with my triathlon club, the Columbia Multisport Club.  This particular workout is also frequented by a few nefarious lurkers from the local bike club, the CBC.  Their sole purpose at this ride is to suck us triathletes into thinking we are fast so that they can pound us into the ground like a tent peg about 10 miles into the ride.  I won’t name names, but they know who they are.

Since one of my main goals in triathlons this year is to get faster on the bike, I have determined that the only way to do this is… well… ride.  More.  Faster…

I… am a genius…

So let’s break down how this ride is supposed to go, using all the fancy terminology we tri-geeks use, and then I will pluck out the terms and define them.

This is an interval ride to 90% (for me).  It is a group ride, usually in pace lines, that means drafting on relatively flat terrain.  It is an out and back route on rural roads and is divided up by distance and/or speed.  There are 3 groups labeled “A”, “B”, and “C” (original, eh?).  They are split up by their estimated speed for the ride (honors system).  “B” and “C” riders roll out first (I have no idea why) and the “A” group usually goes off about 5 minutes after that.  This is a drop ride.

Let us begin

1. Interval Ride- A workout where the rider alternates between a comfortable pace and a near all out effort.  Efforts can last from 2-5 minutes between rest periods.  However the whole “rest period” thingy seems to have been lost with this group.  We triathletes (and those evil CBC guys) simply warm up for about 5 minutes and then hit the gas.  I guess the rest period comes while you are waiting for the ambulance after you pass out trying to be a Klingon and fall off in a ditch.  I have yet to go on this ride (3 years now) where I rode with a group that actually “recovered”.
2. 90%- This is a nebulous estimation of a near all out sprint where you maintain your heart rate at 90% of max.  See, most triathletes have 10 pound bikes and 30 pounds of geeky monitoring gear and computers stuck all over them to tell them exactly how they are doing.  The problem is, most of them are going so hard they can’t even SEE the displays on their various monitoring gear so they guess.  And not wanting to be low, thereby ruining the effort, their 90% usually ends up with a 1 in front of it, once again, initiating a call to an ambulance for Klingons.
3. Group Ride- The very loose term used to describe 20 old, fat, slow Klingons desperately trying to keep up with 2-3 world class athletes.  Especially on “drop rides” (see definition below).
4. Pace line- Any number of bicycles lined up precariously close to each other, wheel to wheel, at warp 2 or greater.  The combined effect of this is greater speed than you could achieve on your own (except those evil CBC guys…).  Each rider takes a turn at the front.  This is called taking a “pull”.  This can last anywhere from 30 seconds to 3 minutes depending on the strength of the rider.  A rider who is done with their pull then moves out of the draft to let the pace line go by and then rejoins the end of the line.
   1. Pull- This is the thing Klingons fear the most.  It usually signals the end of their time in the pace line.  It is usually also where they experience the “drop”.  As they pull out of line after their pull, the rest of the pace line screams by leaving them no hope of jumping back in.  This is the saddest part of a Klingon’s life.
5. Drafting-  Sitting so close to the back wheel of the bike in front of you that you can smell the deodorant of the rider in front of you (unless they are CBC guys.  They don’t wear deodorant.  They feel it gives them an advantage in a pack ride.).  Drafting is, of course, done at breakneck speed.  The most confusing part about this to the standard triathlete is that drafting is ILLEGAL in our version of the sport (very few of us do ITU races)… so… why the hell are we practicing this again?
6. Rural Roads- Terrifyingly strips of uneven blacktop.  These usually come with ample road pizza, gravel in every turn, ZERO shoulder and lots of grumpy, redneck drivers who are NOT fans of bicycling.  But the scenery is pretty…
7. Groups- Pods of lying, rat bastard, cyclists (usually lead by some CBC guy) that typically underestimate their “pace” by at least 3 miles an hour so they can help you experience the “drop” in a “drop ride”.
8. Estimated speed- The speed on a bicycle through which those lying, rat bastard “groups” fly on their way up to the actually pace they are going to ride.  As a Klingon, you see this “estimated speed” twice during the ride.  Once as you go through it on the way up, and once as you feel the “deceleration of shame” when you realize you just experienced the “drop” in a “drop ride”.
9. Drop Ride- Hammer fest.  Weak riders and Klingons stay to the right.
10. Klingon- A rider who desperately tries to hold on to the end of a much faster pace line they know they have NO business being in.  If you look that definition up on Cyclopedia, there will be a picture of me.
11. (Bonus) Getting “Gapped”-  a break in the pace line by one or more riders that lets the front group get ahead.  There is usually no recovery for the “gapped” riders, who then start the deceleration of shame.  To describe this from a Klingon’s perspective, imagine holding something very heavy over the edge of a cliff.  You KNOW you can’t hold it, and you can feel it start to slip, but there is nothing you can do but wait for it to finally go.  Your only solace is to hope to hang on a little longer than you did last time…

There you have it.  Please feel free to add your own to the list.

Yesterday I was NOT able to hang on.  I believe I can comfortably ride in a pace line at about 22-23mph now.  Yesterday’s group was at least 24 and I just couldn’t hold on.  Then I jumped in behind a rider who was in the process of getting gapped and I didn’t notice (tunnel vision… trying not to pass out) until I realized he was already in the deceleration of shame and the gap was about 50 yards.  Impossible for me to bridge alone.  Thus I got to experience another one of this “group” ride’s little joys.  The solo return.  Where you ride back home past the other groups and they look at you and they know… “he got dropped… again.”

Am I complaining about this ride?  No.  It’s fun.  And someday I may be able to hang on all the way out and back with the fast boys and girls.  For now, I ride alone a lot because I’m too fast for one group and not fast enough for the other.  Which is fine because it lets me do the ride like I was told it’s supposed to be done.  In INTERVALS.

…just sayin.

Race season begins in two weeks! (for me)

OK so this whole “taper”… let your body heal from injury thing is made from 100% pure, organic suck.  I haven’t taken two days off in a row from exercise in 4 months.  But the combination of a banged up knee  (not swollen anymore, but still sore) and a half marathon that I should be taking WAY more seriously than I am coming up this Saturday kind of forced me to ease up a bit this week.  Oh, by the way, OF COURSE I would go a year without getting hurt and then get banged up a WEEK before a race.  That’s how I do bidness…

Crap.

I’m still swimming and I will probably try to ride tonight if the weather allows it, just to see how the knee feels without pounding it.  Tuesday I had to back off on my run because it hurt so swimming yesterday and not running today will hopefully give it the break it needs to heal.  I have another race next weekend that is my first official multisport race of the year and that is when things will get serious.

I think I’ve got good bases built up in all three sports this year.  The only thing I will need to extend is my bike mileage.  I’m good for about 25-30 miles now before I start to melt down and I have all summer to double that up to the 56 race miles I will need for a half Iron distance race.  The plan now is to start small.  After this half marathon (I know… that’s not small) I will go back down to short distances.  The duathlon next weekend will be the short course, just to get me thinking multisport.  Then a sprint triathlon in a month.  Then my first Olympic distance race in June.  From there I’m not sure what race I will do but I need some longer stuff like another half marathon or a century ride in July.  I usually take a break in August and just swim a lot since it is so hot but there is a distance swim event in Branson in August that looks fun so that might be a possibility.  My prep race for the half will be Kirksville and I will try to do that race at my half pace.  Then the Redman Half Iron distance race at the end of September.  If my training goes well I may even do the half on Saturday and the sprint on Sunday… we’ll see.

My emphasis this year will be a combination of intervals and bricks.  Brick work especially is awesome prep for triathlons.  It allows me to work on nutrition, transitions and running on bike legs.  If anybody has tips on how to stay hydrated and fueled on longer races, I’m listening.

That’s what I get for screwing around.

I have been kicking around the idea that I would like to do a new, local race here in Columbia called the Amphibian Race.  It’s a 3 mile kayak, 3 mile MTB and a 3 mile run.  It’s at a pretty state park called Finger Lakes just north of me.  I have never kayaked before but reasoned that I could figure it out enough to get me through 3 miles and I have run out there many times so the mystery was the mountain bike.

Since my internet connection kept crapping out and it was hard to get work done, I decided to sneak out in the afternoon to the park and try out the course, called Kelly Branch.  The only people in the park when I got there were mushroom hunters so I knew it would be quiet and I had vowed to go slow and just study the course a bit.  Then if I felt like it I could do another loop (2.75 miles) or two just to get in the workout.

Yeah… Whatever.

Maybe it’s just my lack of skill, but this course seems very difficult.  Steep, short, ups with sharp, narrow turns at the top followed by downs that are just as sharp and off camber.  Several turns are just impossible.  The only way is to go in deep, stop the bike and bunny hop the back wheel around… on the side of a steep hill.  Good luck with that.  Anyway, it was disappointing and clearly not for me.  I’m not a good enough rider to do anything other than get frustrated and hurt on that course so I won’t be doing that race.

Speaking of getting hurt…

I was coming down one of the steep, blind, narrow sections (read: a normal part of the trail) and came to a water crossing.  The creek was up enough that it looked fun but I wanted to look closer at it.  What I saw was that the path through was kind of “S” shaped and loaded with cantaloupe sized rocks.  Tricky but doable.  What I didn’t plan on was how snotty the rocks were.  I lost control and fell… In the water.  But thank goodness those rocks were there to break my fall.  So as I sit here with one knee about twice the size of the other, numbing it with an ice pack, I am dealing with my first injury this year.  It’s just a bruise but it’s deep and painful and , of course, it’s 4 days before a half marathon… *sigh*

I went out and tried to run on it this morning and it felt fine for the first 3 miles or so and then it started hurting and swelling and I had to back way off to get through the run.  Then it stiffened up and didn’t want to bend.  When will I learn…

So now I have to take off for the rest of the week and try to let it heal before the race.  Swimming and biking should be OK, but the rest of the day today I won’t be very mobile.

In all I must have fallen or stepped off the bike a dozen times or more.  My shoes were so full of mud that the cleats wouldn’t even clip in to the pedals.  I am bruised on my knee, my other knee, my elbow, stomach, hip and shoulder.  I cut my knee pretty deep and got tree rash on my forearm from trying to catch myself on a big stump when I fell in the creek.  All from one, three mile ride.  Yeah… I thought I was pretty good on a mountain bike…

So it’s back to the relative safety of Rock Bridge and Rhett’s Run for me for a while.  I may ride Kelly Branch again, but I sure won’t race it until I am much better on a mountain bike.  No, for races I will stick to the road on a bike.  I will run out there because it’s technical and fun to run.  But I’ll leave the racing to the big boys.  By the time I get out of the kayak and get off the mountain bike, there won’t be enough sun left to run by…

A nice surprise

I never discount any race or distance.  Sure, for me… I have to RUN a 5K before I’m ready to run a 5K, just to get warmed up.  But I realize that there are lots of people out there for whom even this distance is daunting.  And I admire and respect the accomplishments of those who dare to take on the challenge of any distance in order to make themselves better and healthier.  I remember when I started running again after a long (10 year), injury induce hiatus, that the 1.25 mile track I was running on had to have been mismarked because it sure felt like twice that.  But I kept at it until one day I went to run there and thought to myself, “You know… this place is just too short to run anymore”.  That was a pretty cool feeling.

So yes, I am stuck in a bad training scenario.  I have a half marathon in two weeks that I am undertrained for.  I will do fine and it will be fun, but I have unburdened myself of time goals.  I just wanna say I’ve run one this early in the season.  It will be a big boost.

But that left me with the opposite problem for the St. Paddy’s Day 5K run that happened on Saturday.  I say it was a problem again, not because I WASN’T training, but because I had not been doing the RIGHT training to do well in a 5K.  My runs average around 7.5 miles and are usually intervals, hills or trails.  NO SPEED WORK.  I’m really trying to build my base up so that half ironman training will be easier.  But most of the group that I run with on Saturday mornings was going to do this race and I thought “why not”.  It’s the first 5K I’ve run in over a year… what could possibly go wrong?

So, at 7:30am (race started at 8), there I sat, on the curb by the starting line, baffled.  So many people, so excited, chattering about their 5K training plans and how hard they had worked for this day.  I remembered it.  And I was excited for them.  It was great to see the enthusiasm and excitement for the sport.  I’m sure there were over 700 people in the race.  But I was baffled by my own complete lack of excitement.  I remember almost crying I was so nervous the first time I ran this race and REALLY being worried about not making it.  Now I was wondering if anyone would want to do an extra 5 miles after we got done.

Anyway, I waded through the sea of green and bad Irish accents and lined up about 5 rows back from the lead group.  I knew who they all were and knew once we got past the first half mile they would be a distant memory.  I suspected by the crew at hand that someone would challenge 15 minutes and it was close.  My guess was they would be crossing the finish line right about the time I hit the 2 mile mark.  Someday… maybe…

Nah…

Anyway, I had no goal time.  My PR for a 5K is 22:15 and yes, someday I will break that magic 22 minute barrier, but had no expectations of getting anywhere near that.  I was hoping for something under 24 minutes.  The race starts on an uphill.  Not steep but a bit of a punch in the face if you are not ready.  As we took off I noted how flat it felt.  The course is urban.  it runs through downtown Columbia and through the campus of the University of Missouri.  It’s a pretty place and always fun to run down the middle of the road and block traffic so I like it.  There are no hills of note on the course.  Gently rolling with a couple of short inclines to get you breathing hard.  My “plan”, such as it was… was to push the ups, cruise the flats and extend my stride but keep my cadence up on the downs.  My only indicator would be my breathing.  I just wanted to listen to my body and then push it a little to see what happened.  I hadn’t run HARD in so long that I wasn’t sure if I remembered how.

Mile one felt too easy.  I was certain I was over 8 minutes because I wasn’t breathing hard.  But I hit the mile marker at 7:08…?  Wait… what?  OK… That’s actually NOT good.  Way too fast for a first mile.  Rookie mistake.  Of course, since I didn’t have a “pace” in mind, how the hell was I supposed to know?

Mile two was flat to downhill.  I just cruised it and stayed inside my lung capacity.  Crossed the marker at 6:58.  Crap.  At this point I knew I was screwed because the next half mile was mostly a gradual uphill.  Whether it was physical or mental, I immediately got winded.  I was breathing way to hard and backed off a bit.  Once we made the turn back into downtown and hit a flat to slightly downhill section, I picked it up again but knew I was slowing.  Through a little uphill and then around the corner to a downhill finish.

The two little ups and the crisis of confidence dropped my third mile to 7:32, even though I know I could have run faster.  I think I panicked a little.

My final time by my watch was 22:30.  That was what the chip timer said as well.  For not having run or trained for a 5K…?  I’m good with that.  A minute and a half faster than I thought I would run.  Cool!

The problem is, now I’m hooked.  I’m back on the “under 22 minute” goal again.  And actually it’s time to start doing speed work again anyway.  I’m going to start alternating the Wednesday night hill repeats on the bike with the track workout our local track club hosts.  I used to do them and loved them.  Now I have a reason to go back!