IronSavage

The last few days before leaving for Canada, I was really freaking out. I had lots of last minute stuff to take care of: packing, shopping, figuring out what was going to go in my special needs bags,etc, but was not working so I had all day every day that last week to obsess and worry. I have to admit, I got a little neurotic, had a couple of mini-breakdowns, and was probably not the nicest person to be around (sorry Ian!) I was nervous about the race but also, no matter how many times you do it, it is just really hard to believe that doing almost no working out for an entire week before a big race is not going to cause one to lose muscle mass, strength, and stamina. I've read plenty of articles, I know that the body needs this time to rest and recover, that recovery is actually what makes you stronger, but still, taper had me a little on edge. The highlight of my week was my hair appointment...I had decided to put some green and purple stripes in my hair to match our green and purple race jerseys (Go Team!). My hairdresser and friend, Laura, has been a supporter since my very first olympic distance triathlon with TNT two years ago so it was nice to spend the day with her in the middle of such a hectic week. When I saw my brightly colored (Laura said it looks like peacock feathers) hair, I got kind of pumped. My goal, aside from finishing the race, was to get on the official DVD, and I figured the hair would help. Yes, it's permanent.

When I finally got to the airport on Thursday morning (4am baby!) and saw all of my teammates in their ironteam jackets, looking just as nervous/excited as I was feeling, I was finally able to relax and get more excited than nervous. After all, we were on our way, whatever was done, was DONE. It was the first of many times I thanked the powers that be for the fact that I was doing this with a team. The flight was uneventful, the bus ride to Penticton from Vancouver was long, I got a lot of knitting done, we finally got into Penticton on Thursday, around 5pm.

Friday was a whirlwind of logistics and standing in various lines. My roomate Allison and I picked up our bikes (yay! I had really missed my bike) and proceeded back to the hotel to try and sort out what to put in all those bags they gave us. For those of you unfamiliar with the sport, in most triathlons, you carry everything in one bag, then lay it all out on a towel next to your bike for the race so it's all right there for you to see during transitions. Because Ironman is such a long race, and has so many athletes all starting at once, everything goes in a separate bag with the race number on it, which is either picked up by you, or handed to you by a volunteer who you've called out your number to.

So Allison and I are back at our room at the lovely Ramada Penticton, with 5 bags and lots of stuff spread out on each of our beds looking at each other like: "Uh, what goes in all these bags again?" There is T1(swim to bike), bike special needs(for anything you would want to eat or change into halfway through the bike), T2(bike to run), run special needs(food and warm clothes for when it starts to get dark), and a bag for dry clothes when it's all finished. It was a little overwhelming but eventually we sorted through and got them all filled. For the rest of Friday and all of Saturday, I just tried to relax and stay off my feet, which wasn't easy. Penticton is small, but not that small, and we didn't have a car. I hung out with my parents a little (mom, stepdad, and little sister had all come out to watch) and tried not to let my nerves rub off on them, or theirs on me...my mom was pretty nervous herself, I think she thought, despite my assurances to the contrary, that I could actually die from doing an Ironman.

Our wake up call came at 3:45am on Sunday...which is usually a time when it would be physically impossible for me to wake up, but thinking about the race had me wide awake pretty quickly. Allison and I each had a bowl of oatmeal, a banana, half a bagel with peanut butter, and coffee for breakfast. We were both a little worried that this wasn't enough calories but couldn't really stomach anything else. We gathered our stuff and got onto the 4:45 shuttle down to the transition area. It was still dark when we got there, stood in line to get body marked, and dropped off our special needs bags. The transition area was a zoo...2500 athletes, all getting ready to start at the same time. I got myself situated, then went over to the grass to do some yoga. This helped to calm me down and wake up my muscles a little. A lot of people were wandering around looking nervous and lost, once again I was so thankful to have my teammates with me because I kept running into friendly faces and getting/giving reassuring hugs.

Finally it was time to make our way down to the beach for the swim start. We had so many spectators, as a team, that it felt a little like being famous. I found Allison's friend Annie first, and she wished me luck, then I ran into Maria and co., who were near my family and Ian, then I saw Allison's boyfriend Terry, who was with Megan, Victoria, and Pete. After all the hugs and good luck wishes, I went down to the beach and found a group of my teammates. We decided to start in the middle/left of the pack. Strangely, I wasn't nervous...maybe it was all the love and support surrounding me. Before I knew it the cannon went off and I dove in and started swimming.

I had been apprehensive about 2500 people all swimming together. Mass swim starts don't usually freak me out, but this was a lot more people than I was used to. I must have placed myself just right because I didn't get elbowed or trampled on at all. There were always people around but I felt like I had plenty of space. The swim was actually quite nice. The lake was clear, not too cold, there were people out on houseboats cheering, they even had divers sitting at the bottom of the lake who were waving and giving thumbs up to the swimmers. Before I knew it, I was out of the water. I finished the swim in 1:39:43, a little slower than I had hoped, but still within my goal. I headed onto the grass, where I had my first experience with wetsuit strippers (minds out of the gutter people, they strip the athletes wetsuits off of them and we all had bathing suits underneath). This was a real treat as anyone who has tried to pull a wetsuit off knows, it can be a workout all by itself. Quick change into my bike shorts, some chamois butter, and I was onto the second leg of the race.

Coming out of the transition area on my bike I saw my family, Ian, and Mimi,the woman who owns the bed and breakfast my family was staying at. Turns out she got so excited from talking to my parents about the race, she wanted to come out and cheer too. It was great to see them and I was feeling pretty pumped as I headed out of town. The first 50 miles of the race were probably the most fun I've ever had on a bicycle. I was feeling strong, going fast, and enjoying the beautiful scenery. My family drove passed me on their way to the top of Richter Pass, where they were going to wait and watch. Luckily they had rented a minivan, because, in addition to my mom, stepdad, sister, and Ian, there were, Terry, Annie, Mimi, and Mimi's little dog, Bijou. They honked and waved as they went past and I smiled and blew kisses...I was feeling really great. Even as I went up Richter Pass, the steepest climb of the course, I felt so strong and happy. All of the hilly training rides we had gone on throughout the season had more than prepared me for this. I even passed another biker as I was going up the hill, waving and blowing kisses to my cheering section.

Then the wind picked up, and for the rest of the bike course (aside from a 5ish mile out and back), it was head wind the whole way. Head wind means the wind is blowing at you head on, so you have to work twice as hard, while going much, much slower. It means you have to pedal hard even while going downhill. I have never been very good at fighting through wind and my mph average went way down. Also, it put me in a bad mood. My goal for finishing the bike was 8hours or less, and I felt like I should be able to do it, but there was always a part of me that was afraid I wouldn't be able to make the cutoff at all, so when I rolled in to the transition area with a bike time of 8:14:51, I wasn't too upset about it. I had a pretty quick transition and managed a smile and a wave at my cheering section, who were waiting for me as I ran out onto Main Street to start my marathon.

The bad mood from the wind was hard to shake though, as was the fatigue in my legs from fighting so hard for those last 60 miles. Also, nothing on earth can prepare you for how hard it is to run a marathon after you have just biked 112 miles. It is really, really hard. We had done a lot of workouts where we went from biking to running, so I was familiar with the feeling in my legs. But most of those runs were 5 miles or less, which is all well and good but after 5 miles, my legs definitely wanted to stop. Now, I am a pretty strong runner, and the run is usually my favorite part of any triathlon. The run was not my favorite part, it was an exercise in mental discipline, a tug of war between my mind and my body, which ultimately I won, but it wasn't exactly what I would call "fun."

Once again, I was profusely thankful for my teammates. The Canada run course is an out-and-back, which means you get a chance to see everyone who is ahead of you. Every time I saw a green and purple jersey on the other side of the road it was like a little light of hope in the darkness. When I told people that I had a really difficult run, they all said, "Really? When I saw you, you looked so happy and strong." and I was like, "I was just so happy to see YOU." Some of my teammates do not enjoy running at the best of times, so the run was even harder for them, these are the ones that I passed in the first 10 miles or so of the run. As I passed my teammate Ferdinand, who was having some stomach issues, he told me that Sister Madonna was right in front of us. Sister Madonna is somewhat of a celebrity in the triathlon world. She is a 77 year-old Catholic Nun, who started doing triathlons at the age of 58 or so. She has done multiple ironman races, including the world championship in Kona. I knew I was going to pass her shortly, but the fact that she was in front of me in the first place meant that she finished the bike before me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am a slower cyclist than a 77 year old woman...maybe it's because she has God on her side. Still, it was pretty exciting to meet her and it made me momentarily forget the pain and my gloomy mood. Ferdinand thought that if he got a blessing from her, maybe it would help his stomach settle. As we "ran" (and I use the term very loosely) by her, I blurted out "Sister Madonna, you are amazing!" and Ferdinand held out his hand to shake hers. She did indeed offer him a, "May God bless you," and a luminous smile for us both...she really is one heck of a woman.

Well the blessing must have helped because I was able to pick up the pace a little, passing Ferdinand and catching up with Coach Alex, who was also having stomach issues...there were a lot of those on the run...I guess I was lucky, I was just having, um...attitude issues. Right around this time, Coach Joe passed me on the other side of the road, which meant he was about 5-6 miles ahead of me. I adore him, and everyone on the team secretly (or not so secretly) wants to be adopted by Joe and his lovely wife Maria. Coach Joe is, I believe, in his late fifties (though you would never know it to look at him), and has a fake hip. This was his 4th ironman. He isn't the fastest athlete, but he knows exactly what it takes to finish, every time. His one piece of advice for us before the race was "If you see me in front of you, you might be in trouble." Joe, like everyone else, is a faster cyclist than I am, but usually not by much. I am a faster runner and can usually catch him in the first few miles of the run, so the fact that he was so far ahead of me at mile 10 was a little alarming. I told Alex that I was determined to catch him...Alex said "good luck."

I had spent a lot of time with my family and the course map, figuring out where they would be and when, to get the most out of their spectating. We had talked briefly about them being at the run turnaround, where Maria always sits. Unbeknownst to me, they had been told that they couldn't drive there, and that they probably wouldn't make it back to the finish in time if they did. But the thought that kept me going between miles 5 and 13 was that I was going to see them, get some hugs, and gather some strength for the last 13 miles which would be run in the dark. Well, Alex and I hit the turnaround, got our special needs bags, saw Maria, but my family was not there. I was crushed. I asked Maria if she'd seen them and she didn't have the heart to tell me that they weren't coming, that I wouldn't see them until the finish. She could tell that I was near tears and wanted to hug me and tell me that she was here for me, but was afraid that would put me over the edge. I tell you, that woman is a saint. After putting on my long sleeved shirt and taking nothing else from my special needs bag, I reluctantly started on the second half of the run. I was pretty much in the depths of despair, I felt lonely, betrayed by my family, like they didn't love me...it all seems pretty silly now, especially as they had come all the way to Canada just to watch me race, but it's amazing what exhaustion can do to your emotions...especially when it's cold and dark out. The only thing that kept me from giving up altogether was the thought that I HAD to catch up with Coach Joe... everything would be okay if I could just get to him. Along the way I was very moved by the residents of the area, who stayed out in their driveways in the dark, cheering us on, playing music to help energize us, giving high fives, some even offering us a beer...it really helped.

Finally, around mile 15, I caught up to Joe. I was so happy to see him that I almost started crying, again. He had been having a good day on the swim and bike, but was having a tough run at this point. I suppose running is not the ideal activity for a man with a fake hip to be doing, which is just one of the reasons he is my hero. Joe was hurting pretty bad but he still managed a big smile and some last minute coaching..."keep that pace up, try not to walk too much, you'll finish strong." With a little over 10 miles to go, and Coach Joe safely behind me, I knew now I could finish. Still, it wasn't easy. A race official rode by on a motorcycle and handed my a glow stick...it was really dark out there. The aid stations were like beacons of hope with smiling faces offering me fruit and chicken broth. I ran between them (well, jogged, anyway) and walked through them. As I passed them and out into the dark night, I had to trick my legs into running again by leaning my upper body forward until they had to either run or fall over. They ran, but they were not happy about it. Even this late, in the dark, there were spectators every few feet cheering and high fiving people they didn't know. All I could do was grunt and wave, hoping they knew how glad I was to have them there. After what seemed like an eternity, I ran back down Main Street and into the cheering throngs of people who were, amazingly, still there.

One of the funny quirks about the Canada course is that there is a little 1.2 mile out-and-back right next to the finish line. This means that you run towards the finish, see the cheering crowds, then turn left and run away from the finish for about 3/4 of a mile, turn around, and THEN run to the finish line. I was warned about this so it didn't bother me that much but as I made my left turn, I saw my family shouting and cheering and realized that I was still mad at them for not being on the run course. Ian came up to run me through the out-and-back and I immediately snapped, "why weren't you at the turnaround?" Of course, I regretted saying it right after because he dropped back, thinking I didn't want him there, which, of course, I did. Luckily, he realized this as well and caught up to me again. I apologized for snapping at him and he talked me through the last mile. Just as he drops back to let me finish on my own, my mom and my sister appear to run my down the chute. "Is this okay?" asks my mom, "All the families are doing this." I don't have any energy left for words so I just nod and take their hands. Suddenly we are at the finish line. There are bright lights and hundreds of cheering people. I feel my arms raised into the air (my mom swears it was me, not her who did this, but I don't remember) and somehow I manage what looks like a strong, triumphant finish.

As I cross the line a volunteer takes my arm and wraps me in a space blanket. She asks me a few questions to make sure I am coherent and is ready to whisk me away to the massage tent when suddenly I am pounced on by a camera man. By this point I have forgotten all about my plan to get on the DVD and am not really in the mood to be interviewed. There is a bright light shining in my face and he makes my volunteer take off the blanket so he can see my jersey better. I am not happy about this but somehow manage to muster a smile (though my mom says from her angle it looked more like I was baring my teeth) and answer a few questions. The next day, when we saw the video, there I was, miraculously looking happy and accomplished, rather than grumpy and exhausted, which is how I felt.

For those of you tri geeks who actually wanted to know what I ate and how I felt physically, rather than a play-by-play of my emotional state... I stuck to my nutrition plan pretty exactly: 250 calories an hour of liquid during the bike (a mix of Cytomax and Carbo-Pro) and 4 thermalytes an hour, about 200 calories an hour during the run... I stopped timing my calorie intake, I made sure to eat some fruit and chicken broth at every aid station. I started drinking the pepsi a little sooner than I had planned, with about 8 miles to go but I kept drinking it so I didn't crash, my stomach felt fine, my energy level was good, and none of my injuries acted up. The next day I was walking a little funny (as was half the town...you could really tell who the athletes were) and all I did was eat and sleep. All in all a pretty amazing experience. I will definitely do another one...just not next year.

Well friends, we are getting down to it. The workouts got very intense and very long...which caused me to skimp in most other areas of my life...including blogging. Here is a re-cap of what I have been up to in the last month:

1. An 18.4 mile run, the longest before the race. All I can say is, "wow that was hard!" and I love to run. Distance running is the most mentally challenging sport, because it would be so easy to just...you know...stop. You can even keep walking, which seems like kind of the same thing but really isn't. I know a runner who regularly does ultramarathons (50+ miles). He told me once that he thinks doing an Ironman is harder. I disagree.

2. The infamous and much dreaded "triple brick." This 9+ hour workout consisted of a 33 mile bike loop, and a 50 minute run which was repeated three times. Altogether, 99ish miles on the bike and close to 15 miles of running...in the east bay where it was about 90 degrees. It was hard, and hot, but I got through it just fine. This was a mental challenge much more than physical...which is how the race should be if I've trained correctly. My body was more than capable, but after two rounds of biking and running in the heat, I really did not want to get back on my bike again...but I did anyway...that's what ironteam is all about!

3. A 2-mile swim in the Lake Del Valle Aqua Challenge. This actually came the day before the triple brick. I was very nervous because I haven't been swimming the kind of distance that I should. Also, the race directors said everyone had to be out of the water in an hour and a half...which is about what I thought it would take me. I was sure I was going to be the last one. The water was beautiful, and I just tried to keep swimming, focus on form, and not take any breaks. For part of the loop, we were swimming into the sun and it was hard to see the buoys but the nice people on the surfboards kept pointing me in the right direction. In the end I finished it in 1hr 15min! That was 5 minutes faster than my swim at Lake Del Valle, which was supposedly only 1.8 miles, and I didn't feel totally exhausted coming out of the water. This was a great day for me and I would definitely recommend this race for people who want to get some open water experience.

4. The Marin Century ride. This was my last long ride before taper and it was not a good day for me. Ian and I were supposed to do it together but he ended up having to work. I got a late start and the place was a zoo by the time I got there...no parking...long lines to get numbers and maps...by the time I got it all together, most of my teammates had already started the ride. I ran into my former neighbor, who also is a former TNT teammate and we rode together for the first 25 miles or so, which was nice, except that he is much faster than I am, so even at his easy conversational pace, I was pushing myself pretty hard, which is exactly what you are NOT supposed to do at the beginning of a race. After the first fuel stop he went on ahead and I was riding alone, cranky, on a course that was full of hills and pretty hot. At the mile 77 rest stop, I ran into Coach Alex, who was having some pretty bad stomach issues, so bad,in fact, that he was waiting there for another of our teammates to finish the ride and then come back to pick him up. Oh, yes, I definitely had that thought, "hey, I can just wait here with Alex in the shade, and get a ride back too!" But even I am not such a baby as to think that being tired and in a bad mood is an excuse to not finish a ride. I actually felt fine and was starting to recover from that early push. So I drank a coke, which perked me right up, and finished to ride. I hadn't been paying a lot of attention to my pace or time because of my bad mood, but when I got to the end of the 106 mile ride (yup, just 6 miles less than the ironman!) I realized that I had actually done it 45 minutes faster than my last 102 miler, though that one had more climbing. This, to me, is what training is all about...when your body knows what to do and keeps doing it even while the mental battle is going on. So in the end it was a successful day, even if 8 hours is a long time to be grumpy.

So now we are in what is called the "Taper Phase" where the workouts get lighter...although sometimes they still seem kind of long. Now I am freaking out about my packing list and just trying to get everything together for the big day. I have a bib number, 2166. I have a wedding to go to on Sunday. On Monday afternoon, I will unveil my new Ironman look...stay tuned for pictures. And on Thursday it's off to Canada. Crazy!

On Saturday I rode my bicycle 102 miles...seriously, 102 miles. And I did not die as many of my less athletic friends speculated that they would if forced to ride a bicycle that far. Luckily it was not as hot as it could have been, but it was all uphill. We climbed every single hill in the East Bay. Actually, I'm fairly certain that I rode my bicycle up every hill in California. It took 9 1/2 hours, which included a few stops but still... One might be inclined to use some expletives here but, since I am a school teacher and never, ever use such language, I will just say this: Holy Mackerel! Cheese and crackers! The human body was just not meant to sit on a bicycle seat for that many hours in a row. I was assured that it was a much more difficult ride than the actual ironman race. During the last couple of hours of riding my thoughts were occupied with the following: 1)The supreme irony of the fact that we started and ended our ride in a place called "Pleasant Hill" when the hills were in no way "pleasant," 2) trying to design a pair of pants made out of ice, and 3) having a conversation with my legs (hopefully not out loud, but I can't be sure)that went like this:

ME: I am very proud of you, legs, you are doing a great job.
LEGS: Thank you, we feel strong and accomplished but we need a
break after this.
ME: Actually, you are going to have to run 15 miles tomorrow
morning.
LEGS: Oh no, we most certainly are not.
ME: If you do, you will get ice cream when you are done. Also
you have no choice, since I am the boss of you.
LEGS: Hmmm...ice cream you say? All right, we'll do it, but
don't expect us to like it.

I finished and felt okay...tired but not like I wanted to die or pass out, which is more than I can say for the Lake Berryessa ride. So I would call it a very successful, if long, day. And the next day the run ended up being cut down to 11 miles...yes 11 miles now seems short to me. And my legs held up just fine, so I did give them ice cream afterward.

Things I have forgotten to blog about:

1. Training weekend at Lake Berryessa: We did a two mile open water swim...which went great, and the most grueling bike ride possible in 95 degree heat on badly paved roads with over 10,000 feet of climbing...which did not go so great. My knee was still bothering me so I went water running in the lake the next day, rather than trail running with most of the team. I was a little discouraged but felt better after a pep talk from one of the coaches.

2. A 75 mile ride on the same day my students had a show (that I had to both work and dance at) followed by a 12 mile run the next day, as well as another student show. That is the most exhausted I have ever been in my life.

3. A 15 mile run (my longest yet!) where my knee injury miraculously healed itself. Yay!

I have been sorely remiss in my blogging duties what with the training load increasing and...trying to have a life. Emphasis on the trying part. But there was something that happened to me about a month ago that I just have to put in here.

Most of you know by now that I am a teacher. One of the other teachers at my school has a sister who is fighting a difficult battle with Leukemia, so needless to say, she has been very supportive of what I am doing. She and her husband have already donated generously to my fundraising. She also happens to have a daughter who is a second grader at my school. Everything that was happening with her aunt, and hearing from her mom about my ironman training and fundraising made Genna feel like she wanted to help out too. She and her classmates got together and decided to sell something at a neighborhood street fair to raise some money. They were going to sell lemonade and ice cream but it turned into one of those cold foggy days typical of San Francisco in the summer so they quickly changed it to coffee and hot chocolate. They made up a poster to advertise what they were selling with my fundraising web page on it, some information about the LLS, pictures of bikes, shoes, and other athletic wear, and some inspirational phrases like, "don't give up!" and "the sick are very happy." Happy to have people raising money for them, not about having cancer.

They made some money but weren't satisfied so for the next month they saved their change and bugged their parents to let them do extra chores around the house. They kept it all a secret from me the entire time. Finally, one Tuesday at school, my coworker took them all down to the bank to get a money order. I walked in to a classroom later that day to do some prep work and they all stood up and started clapping. I was very confused until they presented me with the poster and a check for $265! This is a group of 7 and 8 year olds. They were so excited to give me the money and proud of themselves for doing it on their own. I got a little teary, I must admit. It was just what I needed going into our toughest training weekend yet. Now I really can't quit, the kids are cheering for me.

A couple of weeks ago, Ian and I decided to go to LA for the weekend. A close friend of mine was finally back in California after nearly 2 years of traveling as a deckhand on various yachts. The problem? I was scheduled to do an 80 mile bike ride that same weekend, which would take me 5-6 hours. Now how was I going to fit that in?

We hit upon a solution which was this: I would ride my bike from San Francisco to Santa Cruz (75 miles along Hwy 1, plus a few more miles along West Cliff Dr. in town), get picked up, and we would continue on to LA from there. That way, I wouldn't have to get up at 5am and Ian wouldn't have to take a day off work.

I was a little nervous about biking such a long way alone for a variety of reasons. 1)biking has always been my weakest sport, 2)I had never done a ride longer than 60 miles before, and 3)I had been pretty sick for a couple of weeks and hadn't been doing a lot of the long workouts. But Hwy 1 is a beautiful place to ride, right along the ocean, nice wide shoulder most of the way, plenty of places to stop and refuel, and mostly rolling terrain with just a couple of climbs. I made sure I had my cell phone, identification, money, and flat fixing gear in case anything went wrong and I headed out.

I have recently discovered that I actually enjoy cycling alone and this ride was absolutely perfect. The weather was slightly overcast so it was cool but not too cold, and there was a tail wind in the direction I was going that made me feel super fast. All of my biking skills just seemed to click. I was finally able to descend in my drops...without gripping my brakes in fear. This is something I have been working on unsuccessfully since I started the sport 2 years ago.

The timing was perfect...I got into Santa Cruz, bought myself a burrito by the beach, and was just finishing when Ian pulled up. My favorite day of cycling by far.

Last weekend was the infamous and much dreaded Wildflower Half Ironman race. Lots of my iron teammates were racing so we all decided to camp together. Luckily, Nick arrived with his trailer on Wednesday night and roped off a nice big area with yellow caution tape. A lot of people were getting in on Friday, but I really wanted to get there on Thursday so I would be nice and rested for Saturday morning. Ian and I both took Friday off from work and planned to leave around 4pm on Thursday, which would have gotten us into the lake in the early evening, even with a stop for dinner. Everything was going according to plan: we loaded up the car, double checked that we hadn't forgotten anything important, and headed out of town. I was really tired and cranky, having not slept the night before, but Ian had agreed to drive so that I could nap in the car. We didn't hit much traffic and were almost to Salinas (2hrs from San Francisco) when we decided to stop for dinner.

While we were eating, Ian got a funny look on his face..."hey, did you bring the camping pass?" Me:"No, it was on your desk, I thought you brought it." Him:"um..." So we made some phone calls but couldn't get ahold of any of my teammates that were already there (most people don't get any cell reception) and couldn't get the right number for the parks department to ask if there was a record of it somewhere. Neither of us wanted to pay $200 for a new pass so we decided to suck it up and drive back to the city. This meant that we arrived at the lake around 1am. What with the dark and our brains being fried from lack of sleep and many hours in the car, we couldn't figure out for sure which campsite was the one ironteam had roped off so we just pitched a tent in some open space and decided to find them in the morning. By this time I was delirious, cranky, and paranoid about not being able to find my teammates and/or get enough sleep but as soon as my head hit the thermarest, I was out like a light.

The next morning we moved our stuff to the ironteam campsite, which, in broad daylight was very easy to pick out. It's amazing how different everything looks in the dark. I took a nap and was feeling much more positive about the race when we went down to pick up our packets and check out the festival. Upon seeing the transition area, with its 2500+ places, my first thought was, "Wow! There are a lot of people doing this race." Oddly, this made me feel less nervous...surely if so many people wanted to be here, it couldn't be SO bad. The weather was cool(ish) with some cloud cover and we were all hopeful that it would stay that way for tomorrow.

Race day morning we woke up at 5am to get ready. Everybody had to have their bikes racked in the transition area by 7:15 am but since they had ALL the men starting before all the women, I wouldn't actually start the race until about 9:00. Waiting around for so long I started to get really nervous. Luckily, I ran into Leslie and Judy at the swim start, who gave me lots of hugs and reassurance. The weather was a little warmer than the day before but still relatively cool, for wildflower.

Finally it was time to start. I stayed to the back and side for the swim start as I am usually pretty slow. I started out well enough but when we got past the dock the water became very choppy. Waves were hitting me in the face and I swallowed a lot of lake water. Also, at one point I veered off course and when I looked up to sight I saw a person in a kayak frantically waving at me to go the other way. Between that and the waves, I put in almost the EXACT same swim time as my last half ironman in September. All that work on swim technique and I couldn't take a couple of minutes off my time? I was pretty bummed but I didn't have much time to dwell as I was busy getting ready for the bike portion.

The bike is what really did me in during our practice weekend. What with the heat and the lack of electrolytes it had taken me nearly 5 hours to finish and left me with nothing left for the run. I had adjusted my nutrition strategy for race day, upped my dosage of electrolyte pills, and was hoping to bike faster and feel better at the end of it. Both of these things did, in fact, happen. I finished the bike course in 4hrs, 16min and didn't feel like I was going to pass out or fall over when I was done. I considered this a huge success.

Now for the run...I had been having some weird knee pain for the last couple of weeks and was instructed to "take it easy" on the run. I adopted a run-walk strategy for the first portion of the run which went like this: run until knee pain kicks in, walk until it stops, repeat. Well the first 5 miles or so went very slowly as my knee was hurting quite a bit. I was a little worried about making the cutoff time as I was averaging something like 14 minute miles. Right around mile 7, the run course goes through the campground where all the TNTers stay. Knowing that I would see lots of people I knew, I decided to pick up the pace. I saw Ian and Max walking their bikes back to the campsite, having finished long ago. To be fair, they did start over an hour before I did. Seeing them inspired me to keep running. Miraculously, my knee warmed up, stopped hurting, and I was able to run the rest of the course.

Just after I crossed the finish line, Megan handed me a power recovery drink as she was worried that they would run out...gotta love teammates! then I went to soak my legs in the lake. I felt tired but good, and very accomplished. Final time: 7hrs, 47min. There was minimal soreness the next day and I managed to not get sunburned! All in all, a successful weekend and huge confidence builder.

The last two weeks I have definitely been in a "down" phase in regards to training. I've been fighting off some kind of virus, which, thankfully, has not yet manifested in full force. I have a really big race this weekend that I am not sure I am fully prepared for. It is the famous and oft-dreaded Wildflower Half Ironman...the same exact course we raced last month except that this time there will be about 5000 or so people racing with me. Given what a tough time I had with the course last time, I'm a little nervous as the weather may be just as hot or hotter. Incidentally, the weather report says it might be 10 degrees cooler...I'm hoping for this but not counting on it.

I might not be feeling quite so nervous if not for the fact that I have a new and mysterious knee injury. It started a couple of weeks ago and isn't one of the typical ones. It is mysterious because I've been running for a long time, was a dancer before that, a gymnast when I was a kid and I've never ever had any problems with my knees. Coach Alex says it is likely the cumulative effect of all these activities over the years and just hasn't manifested until now. It's really not THAT bad but injuries of any kind freak me out a little.

Then there was the fundraiser I hosted last weekend that nobody showed up to, not even my friends. Apparently, most of the people I know currently cannot be convinced to stay out past 10pm on a Friday night for any reason. It was poorly planned and supposed to be hosted by more people...I think I realized early in the week that I was in over my head and should have canceled it but figured that some money was better than none...except that it turned out to be the only fundraiser ever where no funds were raised. I don't know if there were even enough people in there to pay the DJ. I had to sneak out the back door to avoid talking to the manager.

The whole thing was pretty demoralizing and I've found my bad attitude bleeding into my training. I wish this weren't the case but it is. I guess I can't be perky and cheerful all of the time. A lot of my teammates who've done this before talk about the "no Ironman zone" which is basically the mindset one gets into that says, "What the hell was I thinking?!? I'm never going to be able to do this." So some of what I'm feeling is pretty common. Hopefully I'll snap out of it. Maybe I'll have a great race this weekend and come back feeling strong with my commitment renewed. Keep your fingers crossed for me. And for those of you who actually read my blog...sorry about this one amounting to nothing but a big bitch session. I'll be more entertaining next time, I promise.

Last night we had a nutrition lecture at the LLS office. Since I missed the first nutrition talk, earlier this season, and since I was looking for things I could change to avoid a repeat of my poor performance at our last half-ironman, I made sure to go.

I learned a lot of interesting stuff like how to calculate my daily caloric needs based on my Resting Metabolic Rate, my lifestyle, and my exercise level, how to calculate my protein, carbohydrate, and fat needs based on my body weight and exercise intensity, and how to calculate the amount of liquid I lose from sweat, which varies from person to person. There was a lot of math involved.

The most interesting things I learned are as follows. If you cut calories too much, you will not lose weight. Instead, your body will hold on to it's fat stores and athletic performance will suffer. In fact, many endurance athletes (especially women) aren't consuming enough calories daily. According to the calculations, I burn about 2800 calories a day so I should be eating a minimum of 2500, if I want to take off some weight. That seems like a lot to me, but I've never been much of a calorie counter. I need to eat 355 grams of carbs per day, which equals about 1400 calories just from carbs! Is it possible that I'm not getting enough carbs? I'm definitely not eating enough protein, as I need about 90 grams a day. I need about 60 grams of fat a day...awesome! Although, of course, this means fats like almonds and avocado, not french fries and bacon.

Also, the doctor giving the lecture said a few things that were surprising. Apparently, caffeine does not dehydrate you and can increase athletic performance. Sweet, bring on the lattes! Also, due to the amount of sodium lost via sweat and how that affects the hydration of your cells, athletes should always overestimate the amount of sodium they need. Salty snacks for all! He actually said that some cyclists put a quarter teaspoon of table salt in their sports drinks. Okay so that just sounds gross.

Anyway, the talk was interesting, enlightening, and probably a little too complicated for me to follow the formulas exactly. It did give me some good guidelines and being encouraged to eat more salt, fat, and carbs is certainly something to be excited about.

The weekend before last was our official half-way training point. We celebrated this by going on a weekend camping trip to Lake San Antonio (fun!) and racing the Wildflower Half-Ironman course (not as fun!). Wildflower is a notoriously hilly and difficult half-ironman and the lake area often gets really hot in the middle of the day. I was feeling rested and confident, unlike many of my teammates, who were very nervous. I had my race day plan, I had been visualizing the course, I felt pretty ready, but a lot of things went wrong that day and it ended up being a very difficult but useful learning experience.

We were scheduled to start at 7am sharp. I got up at 5am, double checked my transition bags, mixed my sports drinks, went over my nutrition plan one more time and headed down to the parking lot that would serve as our transition area. I set up my stuff, put on my wetsuit, and headed down to the lake. Unfortunately, we were counting on someone else to let our water safety people into the shed where the kayaks are kept...that someone was late...but we didn't know how late. We had already jumped in the water (which was a pleasant 60 degrees or so) and "warmed up." We then proceeded to stand around in the water for another half hour, waiting for the kayaks. I was pretty cold by the time we started...at 7:40. Still, the swim went well. I felt strong and I wasn't the last one out of the water. By then another team was also in the water (they were supposed to start an hour after us but it ended up being more like 15 minutes) so I was finishing with some of their faster swimmers.

The fact that there were two teams coming out of the water at the same time made the ladies room line very long...which lead to a 20 minute transition from swim to bike. The original plan would have put me on the bike at 8am but I didn't start until almost 9am. This extra hour made a big difference later on when the day started to heat up. Regardless of these factors, I was feeling positive at the beginning of the bike...beach hill was tough with my legs still cold from swimming but I went up pretty easily and the rest of the first half was really nice. At mile 28 (halfway) I was on a 14 mph pace, which was exactly what I wanted. The scenery was pretty, there wasn't much wind, I felt good. At the mile 35 water stop, it even seemed like I would finish the bike in under 4 hours! By then it was 11:30 and the weather started getting hot, strangely coinciding with the beginning of "Nasty Grade," Wildflower's famously steep hill. I am not a person who does well with heat in the best of circumstances. These were not the best of circumstances. I started to feel a little woozy around mile 40. Then I climbed up the hill. By the time I got to the water stop at the top, I felt really light headed and had to stop for a few minutes. Coach Wayne (a former ironteam coach) gave me a pep talk, made me eat a banana, and sent me on my way. I had to stop a few more times because I thought I might fall over. Luckily, I didn't. Mike Spence,a former teammate of mine who is now an assistant coach on the SF Wildflower team, road by and advised my to pour water over my head to cool down. This definitely helped. He stayed with me for a little while (thank you!), gave me another pep talk, and then went on his way. By this time I was spinning in such a low gear that my leg muscles didn't even feel like they were working but the dizziness increased every time I tried to switch to a harder gear. After 4 1/2 hours, I finally finished with a sweeping downhill, as Coach Joe flew past me yelling, "take your hands off those breaks Sarah!"

After another very slow transition, I started on the run. I really did not want to do anything except jump in the lake and cool down but, as I had not actually passed out and I had a fresh supply of enduralytes to help combat the heat, I figured I had no excuse. I have never run so slowly in all my life. It has been a point of pride with me that I have never walked any part of the run in a triathlon...this has now changed. The course is hilly and exposed, the heat got worse, and there is a 4 mile stretch with no water stop. Since the bike had taken me so long, I was alone on the run course. I saw wavy heat mirages and imagined vultures circling overhead. Of course this didn't last nearly as long as I thought and eventually I made it to the water stop at mile 6.5. The volunteers asked how I was doing and I got wobbly-voiced and teary eyed. They made me sit down and gave me some ice to put down my shirt and under my had. It helped but not enough and I realized that I probably couldn't finish the run. I skipped the infamous double hill they call "the pit" and went down Lynch Hill to the transition area, cutting about 4 miles off the run. I came in to the finish feeling pretty discouraged.

At our meeting later that night I found out that several of my teammates had done the same thing...close to 20% of us hadn't finished the full course. This made me feel slightly better. We talked about consistency in training and I had to be honest with myself that I haven't been as consistent as I could be. I also thought about things like every day nutrition and hydration, which I haven't been paying as much attention to as I should. Race day nutrition can't make up for a lack in the days and weeks before. So I definitely learned some things and can change some things. Luckily (or maybe unluckily?), I'll get another shot at the same course as I have signed up for the official Wildflower race in May. They say that it will be about 10 degrees hotter than it was on our practice day. Oh...good. In the theater they say that a bad dress rehearsal means a good opening night. Hopefully the same holds true of triathlons.

Oh my...two months since my last blog, I really have been slipping. It's hard to keep a balance between work, training, fundraising(which is a part-time job on it's own) and some semblance of a social life. The social life will have to go come May when the training schedule gets REALLY intense. Wait, it wasn't already really intense? So dear readers, which mostly consist of just my mom and a few of my teammates, I apologize deeply for this lapse and promise to try and do better.

Here is what I have been up to. Swimming has been feeling better, I've been working so hard on technique and my shoulder has not been giving me any trouble (yay!), as a matter of fact it feels better than it has since the original injury 11 years ago. BUT awhile back one of our workouts was a timed swim and I found that despite all my hard work, I had actually gotten...SLOWER! How could this be? Coach Alex said not to worry, that speed would come in time as long as technique was getting better. He also recommended a swim stroke analysis, which I have scheduled for this Tuesday at Zoom Multisports. They have one of those endless pools and video cameras that go underwater to film my swim stroke from every possible angle. Oooh...so fancy and high-tech.

Biking has been slightly better, though still a struggle. I went for a few hilly rides by myself and felt really good...strong on the climbs, not quite so terrified on the downhills, and I was pretty satisfied with my overall time. Yet somehow, every time I go on a group ride with my teammates, I am so much slower than everybody else. Now maybe the difference is really only a few minutes behind the people in the back of the pack but it's pretty demoralizing to never be able to keep up. Still my mile per hour average, on paper, seems just fine to finish the bike portion of the ironman. I've come to the conclusion that I should bike alone more often...it takes off the pressure.

Running is still my true love. We've had a lot of short but intense track workouts that have really improved my overall speed. A few weeks ago, I did my first 14 mile run! This is the longest I've ever run...albeit only by 1 mile, but still, I was excited. However, at our practice half-ironman I was in for a rude awakening of what the run at the ironman race will actually be like. Race report will follow shortly.

Trying to catch up on my blogging for posterity's sake. Last Wednesday it was raining, but we still had a track workout. It started out raining just a little, but steadily. As the workout progressed, it turned into an all out torrential downpour. I'm not kidding. I had a rain jacket on but holding my arms at a 45 degree angle to run allowed rain to accumulate in the sleeves. I had to put my arms down every couple of minutes to pour water out of them. By the end of the workout, I was soaked through and looked like a drowned rat. Oddly, I was not upset about any of this. Partly due to the inclement weather, and partly due to the mental breakthrough that I had on Sunday, I ran that workout WAY faster than I ever have before. All the while I was thinking to myself, "I am soooo hardcore."

Swimming has been getting better and better as well. It's still difficult to focus on more than one skill at a time but I've finally been able to catch up with the scheduled workouts...no more cutting them short. And thanks to my exercises and proper swimming technique, there hasn't been any shoulder pain. This is very exciting because with all the pain I had at the beginning of the season I was nervous about making it through the swim at all. I'm still not as fast as I'd like to be but I'll definitely make it.

It's hard to believe that it has been almost 4 months already...and even harder to believe that the race is still a good 6 months away. I'm sure there will be more ups and downs to come but for now, I'm enjoying an "up" phase in regards to training.

Half marathon is the only distance that I have any real race experience with, having run two others before. Running is my strong sport and I felt prepared, so I wasn't particularly nervous waking up on Sunday morning. Besides, I had told myself that I wasn't really going to race it, just use it as a long training. I was prepared to put in an even slower time than my last half, which I finished in 2hrs 10min. Of course, I was secretly hoping to break 2hours, which I've never done but feel like I should be able to.

I have realized since beginning this whole endurance athletic thing, that I am what is known as a "sandbagger." This means that I rarely push myself to go as hard or fast as I can, even in a race situation. I almost never get sore from workouts and while my teammates will end long trainings totally drained, I usually feel like I'm just kind of tired. Not that it's a bad thing to err on the side of caution and being nice to your body. Stress fractures and overuse injuries are very common, especially among those people that are constantly pushing their bodies to the limit. But there is a point at which I need to learn to trust what my body is capable of. After all, I have been training fairly consistently for over a year now.

The morning of the race was an early one. I had breakfast and, as the race was in my neighborhood, Ian and I decided to walk to the race site. There was some confusion about where to catch the free shuttle to the start. Between that,the extremely long bathroom lines at the start line, and the fact that 9000 people running in the race, we didn't end up crossing the start line until good 2 minutes after the horn went off. Ian's mom had driven from Mill Valley to watch us race and, miraculously, we saw her and were able to wave hello as we started to run. I use the term "run" very loosely. Anyone who has ever run in one of these huge local races will understand. The first couple of miles you can hardly move because it is so crowded. Add to that the fact that we started late so we were in back with the slower runners. The first couple of miles were like that old Atari game "Frogger."

As I hit mile marker 2, the time called out was 22 minutes. That's 11 minute miles and really slow, even for me. So I decided to pick up my pace, to try to make up some time. As I hit mile 6, I realized that my current pace was about an 8:45 mile, which is really fast for me, in a race of this distance. But I was almost halfway through and feeling strong so I decided to keep it up. At mile 8, I started feeling some fatigue but pushed past it, kept hydrating and ate some hammer gel. At mile 10 I was still feeling strong and keeping my pace really steady. I did some calculations and realized that I was exactly on pace to go just under 2hours.

I hit mile 12 and the time called out was 1hr 50min. A huge smile washed over my face as I realized that I had just over a mile left and that there was very little that could keep me from making my goal time. I crossed the finish line at 1hr 59min 14sec and felt like I had just won the lottery. For me, breaking 2hrs, not to mention keeping a sub 9 minute mile pace for the last 11 miles, was such a mental and physical breakthrough. To top it all off, I still felt pretty good. Tired yes, a little sore, but not like I was going to collapse or anything. My trusty training partner, Ian, finished in 1hr 46min, which is pretty amazing considering it was his first race ever. This was definitely a big breakthrough weekend for me!


Don't I look crazy fast?

So this weekend I had my first real "I just can't do this" breakdown. I've had several weeks where I skipped at least one workout and have been feeling really guilty about it. Friday was supposed to be a spin workout. Nothing major, just 65 minutes. I kept thinking about doing it, then putting it off. I rented a movie, thinking I would watch it while I rode the trainer, but by then it was later in the evening and I was hungry, so I got some dinner. I popped in the movie, just to watch for a little while while my food digested. As I was watching the movie, I kept thinking to myself..."okay, time to press pause, get changed, and hop on the trainer, then you can watch the rest of the movie." But I just couldn't seem to get myself off the couch. Before I knew it, the movie was over and it was 10:00, too late to do the workout as I had to get up at 6am the next day for workout in San Jose. Frustrated with my own lack of motivation, and cranky from the insomnia I've had lately, I let it turn into a complete meltdown. I got really emotional and weepy, and seriously questioned my ability to do this crazy thing. Luckily, my loyal training partner/roommate was there to talk me down.

The next morning I woke up at an ungodly hour and dragged myself to San Jose for a swim/run workout. I was still feeling lousy from the night before and was only cheered up by the thought of the waffles that awaited my at my friend Rachel's house (she lives in San Jose now) after the workout. The swim was both frustrating and intimidating. I was sharing a lane with three other people, all of whom were just a little bit faster than me. So I tried to speed up but my shoulder started to twinge. I hopped out and did a few exercises to "activate" the proper muscles and jumped back in, determined to just work on good form, even if I had to go slower. Coach Alex gave me some helpful pointers but I'm still at the point in my swim training where I can only focus on one thing at a time so while trying to incorporate his advice, all the other stuff I'd been working on went out the window. And I still felt like I was holding my lane-mates up with my slowness. I did manage to do 95% of the workout, 2000 yards or so, which is the longest I had swam thus far. This would have been a positive if I hadn't already been in such a bad mood. The run was shortened, as I was racing in the Kaiser Half Marathon the next day and I left feeling distinctly discouraged.

BUT...the next day, I ran the Half Marathon at a pace I didn't think I was capable of and still felt great at the end. A full race report will follow this post. I started the weekend totally discouraged and doubting myself and ended it feeling elated and like I am going to kick some serious booty in the Ironman. Go figure.

Just what you always wanted...new photos of me!!! These are from the practice Olympic triathlon which was turned into a duathlon because of freezing bay waters. Note the particularly flattering one of me running with my tongue sticking out. Yes, the face is funny, but my legs look really, really buff. Enjoy.

Biking around Treasure Island...and around...and around...and...


Shiny finisher's medal...what do you mean it's not real gold?


Lean into the turns.


Don't look at the face...look at the legs.

Today was the second in our series of practice triathlons: an olympic distance, on treasure island.

I was definitely debating with myself as I drove to treasure island in the morning. As much as I wanted to try out my new and improved swim stroke in the open water, I had been sick in the early part of the week and was still not feeling at 100%. The memory of our last practice tri was still fresh in my mind...the freezing rain, my claw-like hands that couldn't buckle my own helmet, the ice blocks masquerading as my feet upon which I was forced to run...and that was BEFORE the current cold snap. Needless to say, I was not excited about the prospect of jumping in the bay. But I brought my wetsuit and had just about talked myself into doing it when I arrived at the transition area. Strangely, no one was in their wetsuits. Then I heard coach Tom say "15 minutes until the pre-race meeting, make sure you have your run gear on." It was like a dream come true: the bay water was 47 degrees and the coaches had decided that we would do a run-bike-run and forgo the swim. Sweet! Matty, Max, and I high-fived each other and then realized that we really need to be swimming more if we want to make it through the first leg of the ironman.

We started with a 3 mile run. It was clear, sunny, and cold: perfect training weather. I was so excited about getting to run instead of swim that I went out a bit faster than I should have. Still, I was feeling pretty good as I transitioned into my bike gear and started the 24 miles.

24 miles and a flat course...no problem. Except that treasure island is small so we had to do 6 laps...bo-ring. Also, the wind changed direction every time I turned a corner, sometimes making it feel as though I were actually biking up hill. I've been working on increasing my cadence (number of pedal rotations per minute) during my indoor bike workouts and the flat course was a perfect chance to practice. I went really fast, which for me means keeping up with a teammate who is usually way ahead of me on the bike. It's a good thing too, since I'm terrible at keeping track of laps and she had a computer to tell us how far we'd gone. I wasn't thinking about saving anything for the run seeing as how that's usually the easiest part for me, forgetting that we had already run once so my legs were starting off a little fatigued.

I finished my 6 laps, put my running shoes back on, and headed out for a 6 mile run. A former teammate of mine once described the sensation of running after biking as "an interesting, yet wonderful feeling." That's an optimistic way of saying,"it's kind of horrible but you get through it because you have no choice." I was definitely feeling the latter as I started out slow and waited for my espresso flavored hammer gel (with caffeine!) to kick in. Usually the pain wears off (or maybe I just get used to it) after the first mile and I can settle in the run. This never happened today. There could be a variety of reasons for this: I've been sick, I was out later than usual the night before, I didn't eat a substantial enough breakfast. But whatever the reason, that was the hardest 6 miles I've ever run. It felt harder than the 13 miles I ran after a 56 mile bike ride during my last half ironman. The only thing that got me through it was the words of a former iron teamer that Kamal shared with us last week: "it is an ironman, not a fluffy bunny." This sentence repeated in my head, over and over.

This is what real endurance is about. It's not about the training and races where the conditions are perfect, everything is working the way it should, and you feel strong. It's about finishing what you start, even when you feel crappy and really, really want to stop. And then coming back for more. One of our honorees spoke today about a treatment she went through while fighting Hodgkin's disease. It was administered intravenously and they found out she was allergic to it when her lungs seized and she couldn't breath. But she really needed the medication. The solution? Slow down the drip and then increase gradually until just before her lungs seized. A three hour treatment ended up taking eight hours. So why am I whining about stiff legs and a 6 mile run again? It was a good reminder of why I keep coming back for more. Some people don't have a choice about the amount of pain their bodies have to endure.

In the end, my run wasn't as slow as it felt. I finished the race in 3 hours, 10 minutes, still a good 9 minutes faster than my last attempt at this distance. But I'm still very thankful that tomorrow is a rest day.

So I had this funky shoulder injury from dancing in college. I saw a chiropractor about it, which helped at the time, but it's the kind of thing that's always come back throughout the years. I just figured it was something I had to live with.

Swimming definitely aggravates it but as the first couple of triathlons I did were olympic distance, the swims were never long enough to cause any major pain. It started acting up towards the end of the training season for the half ironman I did this summer but I didn't swim or put any weight on it in the month before starting the ironman training and it seemed okay at the beginning of the season.

Pretty quickly in to the season it started hurting again. I got a little nervous because the ironman swim is pretty long (twice as long, in fact, as anything I've ever done) and I figured it wasn't a good idea to just swim less as I've done in the past. Seeing as how I finally got my own health insurance this past year, I decided it was time to get some treatment for it.

Thanks to my lovely physical therapist Sydney at Presidio Sport and Medicine, I learned that I don't have a major injury there, just some muscle weakness which is causing "scapular instability." Basically, my shoulder blade wiggles all around during certain activities instead of staying where it's supposed to. This causes other muscles to tense up and clamp down on the nerve that runs through my shoulder socket, which irritates it and causes the twinging pain that feels oh so wrong.

Sydney gave me some exercises, which made me feel like a sissy as they were specifically targeted at my weakest muscles, and did some ultrasound on my bad shoulder. She also gave me some tips for which muscles I should be initiating motion with when I swim and how that should feel.

So yesterday, after two appointments, I went to the pool to test out the new muscles. Some very eye opening things occurred:
1. I was using muscles I've never used before, most notably, my lats. I know this because I could feel them burning by the end of the workout (in the good way). This has never happened before. I am broad-shouldered and always assumed my lats were just naturally strong, not true, apparently I was using totally different muscles when swimming.
2. My shoulder didn't hurt (yay!) despite this being the longest swim I've done in at least two weeks.
3. I swam faster. Not that I'll be setting any records but my motion through the water was definitely smoother and more streamlined. I now have hope of finishing the ironman swim in under 2 hours.

This is where group coaching and technique gleaned from books can fall short. The motion is almost exactly the same, the difference lies in pulling with one muscle as opposed to pushing with another. The change is subtle but makes a world of difference. Less pain and faster swimming...it's like magic! Thanks Sydney. My ironman swim will be dedicated to you.

Happy Holidays everyone! Just got back to my beloved San Francisco after Christmas with the family in San Diego. My entire xmas list consisted of sports items so I have lots of fun new toys to play with! It was hard to all the workouts in, even with the bike trainer set up conspicuously in the living room (which my parents were thrilled about, I assure you). I managed to log a couple of hours on the bike, a medium sized run, and a couple of ridiculously hard core workouts compliments of my mom's gym. I was feeling pretty lousy about this until I read the coaches' email this morning and found out that there was a typo in the workout calendar. For the past month, I've been gearing up for a 2 hour 40 minute run on New Year's Eve... after this week there is no way I was prepared for that. But it turns out that it's only supposed to be a 90 minute run. Huge sigh of relief...90 minutes I am totally prepared for.

While home with my family we had our annual goal setting ritual, a family tradition. My biggest one: regulated sleeping schedule, 10pm-6am every day. I have a physical therapy appointment to treat my nagging shoulder rotator cuff problem so once that's taken care of, the early mornings will be used for swimming, lots and lots of swimming. I have a lot of catching up to do.

Today was our first practice triathlon, a sprint distance course located on Treasure Island.It had been pouring rain for a day or two and didn't look to let up so I was not looking forward to this AT ALL. However, I had felt like I was fighting a virus all week, which lead to me skipping a few workouts, and now I was feeling kind of guilty about it. I figured this was my punishment. Besides, a sprint distance would take 2 hours at the most, how bad could it be?

The sprint distance varies as there is no real standard for it but this course was: 1/2 mile swim, 12 mile bike, 3 mile run. No problem, right? Well I hadn't been in my wetsuit for an open water swim in over 2 months, but other than that, no problem. At Wednesday's track workout, I had claimed to be the slowest swimmer, but my mentor Matty said that, in fact, HE was the slowest swimmer. A couple of other people chimed in that they were also terrible swimmers so I was just hoping to not be the very last person out of the water.

The morning started out rainy...and the rain continued...along with the wind. By the time I got to Treasure Island I was decidedly un-enthused about the prospect of jumping into the ocean. But I arrived at the transition area and everyone seemed to be under the impression that we were going through with this so I dutifully put on some body glide and struggled into my wetsuit. It was still drizzling and the ground was really wet so I didn't bother setting anything out like I normally do, I just arranged things in layers in my waterproof tri bag and zipped it up.

We all trundled down to the beach and it started raining really hard. Have you ever been in the ocean while it's raining? I have once before...in Hawaii...which is decidedly warmer than San Francisco in December. 1/2 mile is a swim that normally takes me about 20 minutes, or on a bad day, 25. Today was a bad day. I couldn't feel my hands or feet for most of the swim. To my surprise, there were two other people with me during the entire swim. One was my mentor Matty (he wasn't kidding!), the other was fellow mentee, Max. As miserable as the swim was, the knowledge that I was not alone made me feel a little better.

Coming in to get ready for the bike, my feet were like ice blocks and my hands had completely seized up. A volunteer was ready to help me. As it turned out, she had to do everything for me as I had lost the use of my fingers and could only stammer through my frozen lips things like, "can you...?" and "gloves." She zipped my jacket for me, put my shoes on for me, put my gloves on for me, buckled my helmet, and put all my wet stuff in a bag. Thank God for volunteers.

The bike didn't get any better. Anyone who has ever biked on Treasure Island knows that the roads are terrible: full of pot holes and gravel. On a good day they are annoying. Add to that the temporary lakes and rivers from the rain, slippery roads, and random debris blown into the road, and the ride was just scary. I still couldn't feel my feet, but my hands regained some feeling toward the end of the ride. It is safe to say that I was pretty miserable. Yet again, Matty, Max, and I all finished right at the same time. This was very surprising. I guess crappy road conditions are an equalizing force when it comes to cycling.

Getting ready for the run, at least I could change my own shoes. Also, the rain had stopped by this point and I was able to warm up a bit, though I was just starting to be able to feel my toes as I crossed the finish line. Still, it was a nice run. I have recently discovered that when it's really cold out (or I'm really cold to begin with), I run a lot faster. It's probably just my bodie's way of keeping itself warm but it allowed me to pass a few of the fast swimmer/slow runners who had come out of the water way before me. The sun started to peak out and I was actually enjoying myself.

This is the real reason why I keep doing triathlons: the run is last.I feel great at the end because I've just been running for awhile, and I feel a sense of accomplishment from having gotten through the swim and bike. By the time I cross the finish line, all I can think is "that was so much fun!" Boy am I a sucker.

Awhile back we were out for a ride through the lovely presidio. It was a gorgeous day and as we passed an overlook point, we decided to stop for a group photo. Luckily, there were lots of tourists around so we asked one of them to take our picture. Most of us were wearing our snazzy neon green jackets with the purple flames and I think some of the tourists thought we were a professional team or something because pretty soon several of the tourists started taking our picture with their cameras and asking if they could pose with us. Those people kneeling in the front are tourists posing with their favorite team, us! This proves that the green and purple flame jackets are the coolest ever.