San Dieguito Half Marathon Race Report

It had been a long, long time since I had gone "fast" in a half-marathon. I had been unable to touch my PR, set in my very first half-marathon, back in 2003, the Silicon Valley Half Marathon, which I had run with a strained hip abductor. Embarrassing. True, I had been working on my base, and since running was my strength, had been focusing on my limiters--the swim and the bike. But saying goodbye to speed was so hard. Frustrated at losing so much of my strength, I decided to try a new experiment--if running was my strength, maybe it wouldn't be too hard to try and get some speed back? I had decided to test this new hypothesis with speed work. I know. Groundbreaking. After hearing the miraculous wonders of the track over and over, I had decided to give that a try.

After 6 weeks of putting in a weekly track workout, I was excited about the San Dieguito Half Marathon. Delusions of grandeur of a speedy half-marathon danced in my head like sugarplum fairies until I was informed how difficult the course would be--full of hills. Lots and lots of hills. Damn! Okay, so I worked on hills. I would just have to play it by ear. Last weekend, I did a 16-mile long run at base pace and felt great. Maybe for the San Dieguito Half, I could do a 13.1-mile tempo run and up the intensity. Did I just say 13.1 mile tempo run? I must be crazy.

Wednesday before the race, I woke up with aches, chills, and a fever. Great. My first flu of the season. I bumped my race goal for San Dieguito down to a training run. Afterall, this was not an "A" race. Indeed, it really was just a training run for IM-AZ, which is now only 9 weeks away. How did that happen? I rested most of the week to get rid of my nasty cold. Saturday, I went for an "easy" 50 mile bike ride at a very conservative pace. Since when did a 50 mile ride become easy? The virus had taken its toll, and my body let me know on every hill with weakened muscles and respiratory system.

Someone asked what my goal was for Sunday's race. I knew I was at least going to run. Based on my cold, I figured it would probably be a training run. But a voice nagged at the back of my head. Maybe I had rested just enough. Maybe my cold was gone. I was a dark horse for Sunday.

After a fitfull night of sleep, I roused at 5:45 am. Had some oatmeal and a banana. Changed outfits a few times. I knew it would warm up to the 70s (wow!) but had underestimated the cold start (50s). I opted for shorts and a thin, long-sleeved technical tee. Arrived at the start with an hour to spare. I had time to stretch, scope out the scene, go to the bathroom 4x, and thoroughly freeze my ass off. The race was based out of the San Dieguito Park and took you through the heart of Rancho Santa Fe. It's boasted as one of the most beautiful half-marathons ever, and after running it, I have to agree.

Brent & me freezing our asses off before the start.

Two Red Bull cars pulled up. Again! That's two for two weekends! I must have the magic touch. I usually don't do caffeine before a race. I know. Nothing new on race day. But I decided to live dangerously. I sipped half a can and trotted towards the start.

Juicing up by the Red Bull car before the start.

Knowing the first mile of this hilly course was downhill, I seeded myself toward the front. I'm not fast but it wasn't chip-timed, and I was going to be damned if I was going to get caught behind the walkers on the first descent of the course. I knew I had a strong enough base to push it from the start. Plus, have I mentioned how much I love downhills? I absolutely dig them. I was going to use every single one. My strategy has always been to push it on the downhills and recover on the uphills. Sort of backwards but it works for me.

I looked around. It was a small field, only about 1,200 runners, which gave it a cozy, intimate feel. The gun went off, and within 20 seconds I was crossing over the start line. All that needless worry about not being chip-timed went out the window. I weaved in and out of the slower runners in front of me with ease and very quickly settled into a comfortable pace. I felt good. My feet felt light and quick, and my breathing was slow and even. This was going to be fun.

I hit mile 1 and glanced at my watch. 8:00 even. Shit! I was going to have to slow down! Too fast, too fast! The 2nd mile flattened out, and I slowed slightly. Mile 2--8:30. I was smokin'! I worried that I had started way too fast. Afterall, 9:00 min/miles are usually aggressive for me for long runs. But I felt soooo good! Okay, mental check: breathing? Slow. Legs? Quick. Stomach? Silent. All systems go. I decided to hit it hard. Apparently the virus had left the building and was not going to do an encore. Thank God. Alright, then. 13.1-mile tempo run, here we go. I was a little nervous. I had never tried to go all out for a half-marathon in my life. I had always held back, paced myself, saved it for the end. Not this time. Gotta live a little, right? I would go as hard as comfortably possible. If I blew up at mile 10, then I would learn something, right?

The hills began, steeply winding above me like a serpent. Thankfully, the course held no surprises for me because I had previewed the course on my bike earlier that week. Having a mental picture in my head was enormously helpful. I knew this hill was steep but I knew it was followed by a false flat afterwards, where I could recover somewhat. I worked hard, maintaining my rhythm uphill, allowing my breathing to become more rapid and shallow. I focused on reaching the top. Reaching the false flat, I allowed myself to slow and recover. Mile 3--9:00. Not bad, not bad at all. My goal was to average 9:00, and that was a hilly one. I'll take it.

All of a sudden, a steep descent appeared before me. My pulse quickened in anticipation. "Alright!" Have I mentioned how much I love downhills? I elongated my stride for a few footfalls, preparing my legs for the descent. I leaned into the decline, allowing gravity to take me forward. I focused on landing on my toes as lightly as possible, picking my feet up as quickly as they landed. My tempo increased as the grade increased. I felt like I was dancing. Controlled falling, isn't that what they say? My lungs felt great, only a slight burn in my quads and hip flexors, as if I was doing lunges. Hmmmm. Strength work? I weaved in and out of runners as I flew by. It felt like cheating. I was just letting the descent do all the work. Mile 4 flew by, and I glanced at my watch in disbelief. 7:15? I wasn't scared anymore. I was letting my legs take the reins and luckily, I had been invited along for the ride.

The road flattened out, and I took in the view. Amazing, ridiculously ostentatious mansions with pristine gardens commanded attention from every corner. I drank in the view, feeling as if I were watching an episode of the Rich and Famous. The pristine San Dieguito Reservoir sparkled to my left. Perched atop the gate of a resident's mansion was a beautiful, snow-white egret, dozing in the warm morning sun. I passed mile 5 unkowningly, deep in the zone, forgetting to look at my watch.

The temperatures were beginning to rise, reaching the upper 60s, very warm for my wimpy San Diego skin after 6 weeks of winter running in low 50s. However, the abundance of shady trees lining the streets of Rancho Santa Fe generously shielded me from the warm spring day. I was sweating and slightly warm but did not feel overheated. I diligently sipped from my Fuel Belt every 15 minutes and did not feel thirsty.

Several people had ominously warned me of the unsually high temperatures forecasted for race day. It was going to be in the 70s! I just have to laugh sometimes at how spoiled we are for living here. Who complains about 70-degree weather? Seriously. After living for several years in Wisconsin and St. Louis, I've vowed to kick myself if I ever slip and complain about the weather. It was another typical day in San Diego--beautiful day, warm, sunny, with a blazing blue cloudless sky. However, after a particularly chilly, wet winter, I reveled in the perfect San Diego weather I sometimes take for granted.

Mile 6 flew by. Already halfway done? This was going by so fast! Apparently, friends were waving and calling my name, as I was informed afterwards, but I do not remember seeing or hearing anything. My legs were zipping along. The rest of me was somewhere else in the universe. It was quite wonderful.

At mile 10, I did a recheck. My legs were quite sore from flying down the dowhills but my lungs felt fine, and I had a lot of energy. I suggested to a friend that the course wasn't long enough, irritating several runners within earshot. Maybe we should do it twice? I realized even if I bombed and ran 10:00 min/miles at this point, I would still PR. I felt both elated and relaxed. I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Like a really good book, I felt almost disappointed at the thought of reaching the end.

A few girls flew by me at mile 11. Grrrr. I stayed within my zone and let them go, keeping them within my sights. Wait for it, wait for it....Mile 12 came and went. 1 mile left to go. Okay, I told myself. If you have it, you can go for it. I began to chase down my prey. Slowly, I began to gain. I reached the long, gradual ascent up El Camino Real. I visualized the finish line. This is it. The last hill. There is nothing after this. You can push it. I made an executive decision to burn a little fuel and began the final attack. I reached my first victim, girl in pink shirt. Continuing my hunt, I passed young girl, and for a moment, just for a moment, felt guilty about passing her. We had run almost the same pace the entire way, and she couldn't be more than 12 years old. She was fantastic. I urged her on as I passed, "Almost there. Final stretch." She smiled. Okay, final victim, girl with pigtails. She was my #1 prey. We had been passing each other, shoulder to shoulder, glancing elbows, for the past 6 miles, and I had been extremely irritated when she flew by me at mile 11. I wanted to hunt her down so badly, I was salivating. I picked up the pace, digging into the hill. My legs ached and my lungs burned but it didn't matter. I was gaining, she was fading. I passed her with 1/2 mile to go. Now, I was the hunted, and she was the hunter. I continued accelerating. Gone was the aggression I had felt on the chase. Instead, it had not been replaced with fear. Fear a rabbit experiences when chased by a coyote. Not as fun as chasing but being chased is still good motivation for picking up your legs faster.

I reached the park and turned in to go down the chute. This was it. My running partner accelerated, right on my heels. Where did he come from? I don't think so! That was all I needed. Boom! I took off sprinting, kicking into turbo gear. Where did that come from? Spectators cheered me on as I sprinted down the chute, dropping my pursuer. I flew across the finish line for a glorious PR, shaving 7:00 from my previous best half-marathon time. Sweet, sweet victory. I am still savoring that moment.

Nick, me & Brent with our medals at the finish.

Bethany & me. All done!

This was my best ever half marathon. It felt effortless. The miles flew by, and I was almost sorry to reach the finish. I learned that I am "good" at downhill running. Who knew? In addition, mentally, I enjoy the variation of a rolling course. Plus, since it's considered a challenging course, it was a much-needed boost to my confidence. I think the best PRs are the unintentional ones. Everything clicked for me on this race. I was simply "on". Guess the key to a PR is to get sick mid-week to force a good taper. I love the never-ending flood of self discovery afforded by triathlon.


Total Time: 1:51:05
Pace: 8:29

Epic Weekend (2/2/08)

With all the stress in my life right now, training could go either one of two ways:
a) shut it down
b) go full throttle
I chose option b) in order to maintain my sanity and sleep at night.

Saturday (2/2), an intimate group of 4 of us did the Train Ride. We took the train up to Anaheim to ride the 80 miles back to Solana Beach. This is the 2nd time I've done this ride, and it only gets better each time.

Train: On the train (a little over an hour), I sipped my coffee and slammed a chocolate glazed donut to make sure I didn't start the ride hungry. The heat inside the cabin warmed my muscles, lulling me into a drowsy, false sense of security. As we kept traveling north, we all looked at each other anxiously. "Dude. We are a looong way from home!"

Warm Up:
We disembarked in Anaheim and were rudely awakened into the chilly morning. After a quick stop at the toilet, we eased into the saddle and were off. Shivering, we made our way to the Santa Ana River Bike Trail. We hit the trail and started cruising. I love this trail! It leads directly to the coast, avoiding all roads and traffic. There's no wind, and it's verrry flat. It's the easiest 13 miles I've ever done--perfect warm up.

We were in good spirits and joking around. "Are we there yet?" All of us had the same goal in mind--ride at base pace but with as few stops as possible. Two of us were training for IM-AZ in April, and the other two for CA 70.3 at the end of March. We were well-matched. The cohesion between the 4 of us was magical. There are pluses to riding in a big group but also a lot of advantages to a smaller, more intimate group. I enjoy mixing it up.

Newport Beach:
We hit the coast and made our way through the busy streets of Newport Beach. Luckily, on an early Saturday morning in February, the streets were fairly empty. We spotted the regular Orange County pelotons zipping through, the OC versions of SDBC and Swami's. Always comforting to ride on a regular bike corridor.

12 Different Cities:
As we rode through the different coastal cities, we experienced different spectrums of weather conditions--each niche had its own unique weather biome. Perhaps it was because the ride took so long. But also maybe because we rode such a long way! Anaheim was chilly and misty, Newport Beach was gray, Laguna Beach was sunny and pleasant. Dana Point was cold and windy. San Clemente was cloudy but still. Camp Pendleton was extremely WINDY! Oceanside was cloudy. Carlsbad was sunny and slightly pleasant. Next up were Leucadia, Encinitas, Cardiff, and finally Solana Beach. We rode through 12 different cities!

Laguna, DP, & San Clemente:
Laguna Beach was soooo beautiful. Lots of secluded coves and pristine beaches. Rolling hills and moutains flanking the ocean to the east. After all the rain SoCal has received this winter, the hills were carpeted in a brilliant, velvety emerald-green. I've never seen SoCal so green and in bloom before!

Every street sign in Dana Point ends in "Lantern." I particularly like "Green Lantern" because it reminds of the villain in Spiderman. We wound through the side streets in San Clemente, which felt like a roller coaster--constantly up, then down, back up, and down again. We stopped at the market at the end of town to grab a sandwich, Pepsi, and red vines (my own personal touch). Oh, and a Twix. The Cliff Blocks, InfinIT, and Cliff Bars just weren't doing it for me.

Red Bull Gives You Wings!
In Camp Pendleton, we decided to do "extra credit." I had wanted to do about ~85 miles but felt good at 60 so I didn't mind when 1 of the riders wanted to shoot for a full century. Is that weird? Let's do an accidental 100 miles today. I'm officially nuts. We headed into the base down Christianitos Road. A Red Bull car was sitting on the shoulder. Huh? I've seen Red Bull cars at races like 5Ks and sprints but we were in the middle of nowhere. There's very little traffic in Camp Pendleton, and it was dead-quiet.We rode past the Red Bull car, and 2 girls handed each of us a Red Bull! How's that for a support vehicle? Good aid station! We were rewarded for our "extra credit" loop. Pretty random stuff. I knew at that point someone from above was smiling down on us on that ride.

We headed down the Trestles Bike Path and entered the base, adding yet an extra loop on Las Pulgas. We cruised out to the turn-around oblivious to the wicked tail-wind. Then we turned around. Damn! Just when I get tricked into thinking I'm this bad-ass cyclist, the wind pokes me on the shoulder and knocks me down a few pegs. We all battled our way back to Stuart Mesa Road.

My ass was beginning to hurt, and my leg warmers were chafing my thighs but I was able to block it out and maintain a good rhythm. Besides, I knew everyone else had the same issues. With the Red Bull, Red Vines, and Twix in my system, I couldn't really be that miserable, eh?
Around mile 75, K. passed me.
"Red Bull gives you wings!"
"C'mon! You can do better than that!" he teased.
Oh, no he didn't, I thought to myself. I took off, blasting by everyone up the next hill. Take that! Ha! It felt so good to feel so good at mile 75. Funny, how positivity can snowball.

Mile 80, we exited the base and rode through Oceanside Harbor. I couldn't believe what good time we were making. In Carlsbad (mile 85), I got left behind at 2 verrrry long lights that took absolutely forever. I lost 5-7 minutes. Dammit! I knew we only had 10 miles left to go. I decided to test my limits and see if I could catch up. I took off, mustering a crazy (for me) 20 mph while muttering, "Drop the hammer, drop the hammer," repeatedly. It was my mantra. It was early afternoon, and most of the riders left on the road were the easy-going Sunday-driver types. I blasted by....I was on a mission. I did pretty well at maintaining that pace until I hit Cardiff, right outside Solana Beach. I just barely missed catching the group at the very end and arrived back at the train station, completely exhausted. Still, I was very pleased that I could find that high-octane speed so late in the game.

Sunday, I woke up feeling surprisingly fresh and not sore. It was windy and rainy outside. Stubbornly, I pulled on my tights and long-sleeved running shirt and showed up to meet 3 other guys as stubborn as me. They were going 10. I was going 16. Rain? Wind? So? We started in Solana Beach and rain north on the coast to Encinitas. On 101 in Cardiff, where there's no protection from the ocean, the wind

Celebrity Sightings at TCSD Meeting!

I went to our monthly Tri Club San Diego meeting on Thursday, where a good time is always guaranteed. Nothing better than catching up with friends and enjoying a good speaker. Last night was great--Bob Babbit (of Competitor magazine and radio) interviewed Samantha McGlone.

Who is Sam McGlone? Just the winner of the Ironman 70.3 World Champion and 2004 Olympian for the Canadian Triathlon team. Oh, and she also came in 2nd place in Kona this year. In a nutshell, an awesome athlete and after hearing her speak, a glowing personality. She told us the story of how she got into running....when she was 5 years old! She begged her father to let her go running with him but he said she was too little. She wanted so desperately to join him on his 2 mile runs that she decided to prove to him that she could do it by running laps up and back on their driveway, which was something crazy like 44 laps. So at 5 years old, she ran the 44 laps on the driveway, after which, her father had to oblige her by taking her on his runs. About a year later, she was dropping him! Good stuff.

In addition to seeing Sam McGlone, David Goggins, amazing UltraMan (double Ironman in Kona) and ultra marathon runner (5th place 2006 Badwater) also attended the meeting. How cool is that?

Finally, I got to meet Saul Raisin, one of my heroes! This guy was an amazing young pro cyclist for Credit Agricole, bringing both talent, enthusiasm, and purity to the sport of cycling, which it so desperately needs. I was putting my money behind this bright star to be the next Lance Armstrong of the future.

However, these hopes were dashed in 2006 when he crashed during the first stage of the Circuit de la Sarthe. In the hospital, he developed massive swelling in his brain and lapsed into a coma, at which time his parents were contacted and asked to sign the documents for organ donation. The doctors informed his parents that he would probably not survive, and that if he did, he would probably be paralyzed. Miraculously, not only did Saul survive, he awakened from his coma, and after a long, rough period of vigorous therapy, was able to make a full recovery--both in his physical and cognitive skills. He's back on the TT bike, and although can no longer ride for Credit Agricole, is making big plans for his future.

I had a chance to "catch up" with him at the tri club meeting. I asked what he was going to do now that he could no longer ride for the team. His response gave invaluable insight into his amazing perspective and positive attitude on life--much wiser than his 25 years:

"When one door closes, another one opens. Cycling will always be a part of my life. I ride every day. But it's not my whole life. There are more things to life than just cycling."

Saul has started a foundation to raise money for research on brain injuries. He received an award at this year's Competitor Endurance Sports Awards for the "Comeback Athlete of the Year". His next stop is Washington D.C. where he will be meeting with members of the US Air Force to discuss ways to treat soldiers coming back from Iraq that have suffered brain injuries. And athletic plans for the future? He revealed to me that he has been adding swimming and running to his regime of workouts. Hmmmm........

I feel so fortunate to have meet Saul. Not only is he physically gifted athletically, but expresses a unique combination of charisma, wisdom, altruism, and passion for life that is truly a rare find. I wish Saul the best of luck in his endeavers and will be following his progress; I know his future will be nothing short of earth-shattering. If you want to find out more about Saul, read his book, Tour de Life (which I'm currently enjoying), on his experiences. Also, check out his blog to check his progress.

From Saul's blog:
"...I now have a normal life and have pledged to give back and help others that have brain and spinal cord injuries or any other major illness. I want to grow my Raisin Hope fund into a foundation. I hope to have shown people to never give up and always fight to the finish. I have been truly blessed with a loving family, friends, and the best support group on earth."

Checking In

Life's been throwing a ton of curve balls at me lately. Can't really get into much detail in this venue but I can say a) thank God for training and b) when they said Ironman was a life-changing event, they weren't kidding. The training has been the only constant in my life. I crave my workouts since I rely on them for stability. I can count on my swims, bikes, and runs. I feel better afterwards and I can sleep at night because the training makes me too physically exhausted to care about the racing stream of consciousness in my head. By the way, I've discovered the secret to PRing in workouts: have a huge stressor going on in your life. Nothing like going hard to work the steam off.

Workout Snapshots:
Saturday: 72 mile ride with hills; threw in Torrey Pines at mile 70 for kicks.
Sunday: 14 mile run at base pace; started dumping rain at mile 12. I love running in the rain. It was raining so hard, I had to run with 1 eye closed to keep my contact from falling out!
Monday: much-needed day off and 1 hour massage. Ahhhh!
Tuesday: hard 5 mile tempo run
Thoughts were racing through my head. The only time my mind is quiet is when I run. My footsteps felt like I was chasing time. Trying to stay in each moment with each step. Life is nothing but fleeting moments strung together like a weakend spider-web. I chase after each moment in a futile attempt to catch them, slow them down, or make sense of them like a butterfly net with holes. I am trying to put reason into randomness. Everything is transient, in a constant state of flux. Running helps me to stay in that transient instance of time for just a little longer, savoring the sweet taste just a little but more.
Wednesday: 1 hr time trial swim; 3400 meters. I loved it. I found a rhythm and swam. I enjoyed feeling each arm turn over, catch the silky water, and reveled in the power of my stroke beneath me as I glided through the water. I got a swimmer's high. I wanted to stay there forever. I actually asked the coach if we could do 90 minutes next time. He gave me a really weird look.
Afternoon bike--I got in an easy 24 miles with a stop at B&L so Torch could get some much needed TLC. The ocean was turbulent after the recent rains, full of movement from opposing currents and a deep, troubled blue. My emotions matched the waters and comforted me.

Train Hard, Recover Hard

Taz--expert on recovery.

My Ironman training has been going incredibly well, as of late. Social life, other hobbies, family life, work, anything else--has all been suffering, but that's to be expected. Afterall, I'm training 16 hours a week. But I'm loving every minute of it. I've never in my life been able to train this hard without feeling overtrained. Why? The answer is: recovery.

Recovery is equally important to training. Training breaks the muscles down and recovery gives your body the rest it needs to come back stronger. In the beginning, it takes less to tear your body down. More rest is needed, and you need to be very conservative to avoid injury or illness. Of course, none of us do this because we are all type-A triathletes. All of us have suffered from injury, illness or overtraining at some point (including, gasp, me). So what has changed?

1. Gradual Adaptation:
I have slowly been increasing my volume and miles over the last 4 years. Yes, years. It takes that long for the tendons, bones, ligaments, and other tissues of your body to be able to adapt to a gradually increasing training load. Each year, I assess how my training and racing went, how much time I spent training, and I plan no more than a 10% total increase in volume for the following year (to a point--I don't think I'll be increasing in '09 after such a high volume for Ironman AZ in '08).
2. Listen to Your Body:
Seems simple but so hard to do. When I feel tired, run down, or sick, I take extra time off. I try not to be a slave to my training plan. I try to be flexible. I'd rather be 10% undertrained than %1 overtrained for an A race. Your body is an expert at sending you early cues--muscle cramps, tightness, a cold, fatigue. If we listen early on and take a day of rest at these first signs, we can avoid long periods of rest forced on us later when more serious illness or injury forces us to the sidelines, missing key races and causing significant fitness losses.
3. Days Off & Recovery Weeks:
Rest is just as important as training. It cannot be stressed enough. I mix easy training days with hard ones. I take 1 day off each week and every 4th weeek of training, I reduce overall volume by 30-50%. The fluctuations in my training intensity and volume allow me to feel fresh and recovery quickly, giving me greater fitness gains in the long run.
4. Sleep & Nutrition:
The more you train, the more sleep you need. I make sure I get 8-10 a night. Sometimes I take 2 hour naps too. I also make sure I eat a lot of healthy, balanced meals several times throughout the day to feed my body. People are always asking if I'm pregnant because of my insatiable appetite. Nope, it's the Iron Beast! I don't question it. If I want to build muscle and strong bones, replace my glycogen stores, and maintain a strong immunity, I need to make sure I'm getting all my calories and nutrients. Bring on the steak and smoothies!
5. Stretching, Yoga, and Massage:
The balance of these 3 things helps loosen up tight muscles and prevent injury. The foam roller is an amazing invention--sheer mix of medeval torture and miracle cure. I stretch daily, do Yoga 1-2x/week and get a deep tissue massage 1x/week. The results have been amazing.
6. Physical Therapy:
All of us have biomechanical issues that predispose us to overuse injury, especially with running. A knowledge of your body and how it moves is critical. By combining a tailored stretching and weight program for your weaknesses, you can correct these issues before injury develops.
7. Weights:
Although running, biking, and swimming hits most of the major muscle groups, adding a short weight session to your program 2x/week for 20-40 minutes can be amazing for hitting the parts we miss, specifically the core. It also builds endurance, strength, and speed that will help get you through the tough miles as well as prevent injury in the long run.
8. Properly Fitting Equipment:
Running shoes that have been fitted to your feet, custom orthotics, a bike that has been fitted to you by a professional--all of these things are critical to success, especially at higher volumes. Make sure your shoes have no more than 500 miles. I actually change mine out at 250; it helps immensely. I also get my bike fitted every 3-6 months because my riding style, body, and position are constantly changing and needing little tweaks.

All of these little things add up to the larger equation--adapting to heavy training loads. For more specific info, check out the links to some previous posts on Overtraining and Yoga for Triathletes.

Good luck and happy trails!

1. Overtraining/Recovery
http://amateurtrigirl.blogspot.com/2006/06/learning-how-to-rest.html
2. Yoga
http://amateurtrigirl.blogspot.com/2006/03/yoga-for-triathletes.html

Spirit of the Marathon Review

http://www.marathonmovie.com/home.html

I saw Spirit of the Marathon tonight, a documentary about the trials and tribulations of the Marathon. For those of you who missed it, there will be an encore in select theaters on February 21st. It was wonderful! The movie covered age groupers to elites, Boston hopefuls to 26.2 virgins. I really felt the emotions as the filmmakers followed Deena Kastor and select age groupers through training for the Chicago Marathon. As I heard the stories the runners told, I was reminded of my own personal reasons for signing up for Ironman Arizona. I remembered my own personal highs and lows. And it hit me......I'm going to be doing an Ironman in April, a little over 2 months away!!!

As the runners lined up at the start, I felt my heart beat faster and the blood drain from my limbs. I was nervous just like I get when I line up on the start. And when runners hit the wall at mile 20, I was reminded of just how low the lows get during an endurance event. When the finish line appeared, I actually got a little choked up! I think I will probably cry when I cross that finish line in April. I'm in the thick of my training, and the forest gets a little lost in the trees at times. This movie forced me to take a step back and appreciate what my training means and how exciting this Ironman will be in April. For anyone who needs a little motivation during the long, cold winter months, this documentary will do the trick!

And for anyone who is wondering what I will be doing on 2/1/08--this is what the Chicago marathon website read:

Registration for the 2008 Bank of America Chicago Marathon will open February 1.

How to Lose 5 lbs in 3 Days (Not Recommended)

This is an addendum to the previous post (how to go on a cruise). Turns out, I get massively SEASICK on cruiseships. So my R&R weekend turned into a "lose those extra pounds fast" weekend. I spent 72 hours either throwing up or doped up on Dramimine. Could this be the "new" weight-loss cure?

How to Go on a Cruise--Amateur Tri Girl Style

My reaction to a free cruise Jason's job offered us was atypical for most but pretty normal for a crazy triathlete training for her first Ironman.

Phase 1 (Denial)--Flat out refuse that you will go on the cruise.

Phase 2 (Anger)--Bitch and moan that you will be missing too much training.

Phase 3 (Bargaining)--Take a little extra time off work and wake up extra early the morning you have to leave to squeeze in a "short" 50 mile ride. (Since when did a 50 mile ride become short?)

Phase 4 (Depression)--Cry when you realize you have to leave your bike at home. (Poor Torch will be lonely! You mean I can't see him for TWO ENTIRE DAYS?!) Cry some more when you are not allowed to bring your wetsuit so you can practice some open water swimming alongside the ship. (Afterall, we're going to be IN the ocean. It seems almost ridiculous NOT to go for a swim, doesn't it?)

Phase 5 (Acceptance)--Change your training schedule so that cruise weekend is a recovery week. (Good thing since it looks like I missed my last 2 anyway). Rearrange your training so you get your key workouts done earlier in the week. Call ahead and make 100% sure that the cruise ship does, in fact, have a gym with weights and a treadmill. Pack accordingly (running shoes & shorts, swim suit, goggles cap (just in case), Yoga strap, foam roller). I may not have a ton of clothes and make up but boy, those running shoes and foam roller sure take up a lot of space!

Why I'm Still an Amateur

I've received some very nice comments from fellow bloggers, inquiring as to why I still call myself an amateur. Even though I've been doing triathlon for 4 (short) years, I'm still an amateur. I will always be an amateur. I want to emphasize that I still have a lot to learn and am continually humbled by other great triathletes around me who serve as role models.

I don't do triathlons because I want to win. If that was the case, I would have quit as soon as I moved to San Diego. Let's face it, I'm a goldfish swimming with the sharks in a big ocean out here...I don't have a prayer. But I'm quite happy to be a solid, middle-of-the pack, age grouper. I dare say we even have more fun back there. I do triathlon because I love it. The training, the racing, the people I meet, the experiences I have, all of it. I love learning new things about myself and my body and constantly striving for personal improvement--physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I have come a long way since my first 5k. I hope that the experiences I write about on my blog can help teach and motivate others out there who were like me 4 years ago, believing it was impossible that they could ever do a triathlon. That they would never, never, ever, do an Ironman. One thing I have learned is certain: nothing is impossible.

2008 Stagecoach Century Ride Report

I rode my first century this weekend. 100 miles. That's a long trip in a car! When I told a coworker what I was doing on Saturday, he told me I needed serious help. Like a whole team of therapists to figure out why I get my jollies by riding a bike 100 miles. It was awesome! A rad group of us from San Diego made the 80 mile trip east to the start in Ocotillo to ride in the Stagecoach Century.

The route was an out-and-back along the old historic stagecoach route. I could imagine horse-drawn wagons rolling around a dirt path in the 1800s as miners searching for gold made their way west. The region was made up of a desert preserve and historical sites with mystical names like "The Well of Seven Echoes." I heard many tales of folklore from the region about ghosts of miners rumored to be running around at night. Another site was a plain with a sudden, steep drop-off of several hundred feet. I could picture tribes of Native Americans chasing herds of bison off the cliffs.

We were blessed with perfect weather. I was relieved. The year before, a storm had come through, bringing gray skies, winds, and 30 degree weather...the entire ride. I had frozen my toes, fingers, and other extremities completely off on that ride, and I had only gone 50 miles. This year, winds were calm, skies were blue, and the temps rose into the low 70s. Purrrrfect. I didn't even need arm warmers! In January!

First off, this ride was fully supported by tons of cheerful, eager volunteers, all in good spirits and amazingly stocked aid stations. Every Port-a-Potty had toilet paper (important). Some even had soap, water, and paper towels! Tons of water, electrolytes, sunblock, HED (electrolyte/calorie drink), cookies, PB&Js, candy, Cliff Bars, and my all-time favorite....Red Vines. Yea!

We started from the Ocotillo Rec Center (a gravel parking lot with a small shack) and started riding north. I couldn't figure out why we were working so hard to bust out a meager 13 mph when it hit me. Oh, right. False flat. I remember this from last year. The whole way out is a mix of false flats and hills. Dammit! I hate false flats. I would much rather just climb and work hard the first few miles to gain elevation than eek it out and suffer little by little over a long time. Oh, well. I just hunkered down, let the fast guys go, and chatted with Dean, who thankfully, decided to hang back with me.

We hit the first aid station and regrouped briefly for some water (my Perpeteum mix was too thick and nasty--I found straight water much more appealing) and Red Vines. We still were enthusiastic, smiling and in good spirits. Very cogniscent of the world around us. We took a few pics and headed on our way.

(Dean, Brent, me and Bob at the first stop).

We descended down Sweeny's Pass, a 500-foot drop in about 2 miles with some awesome views and wicked switchbacks. I loved the breather but was wary of how hard that would be on the return at mile 90 to get back up. The false flat quickly returned afterwards but I felt fresher after the aid station and the descent. I buckled down and went to work, focusing on an even pedal stroke. I took in the view of the expansive desert, opening up before me, dotted with cacti and tumbleweed. Ranches sparsely dotted the road with horses giving us strange looks from their corrals. I breathed deeply, savoring the smell of fresh hay.

After some more Red Vines and water at the next aid station, we prepared for the major climbing, waiting for us at mile 35. We passed the Butterfield Ranch General Store, the turn-around for the 50 mile ride. I felt a surge of energy as I kept going, chartering new territory. I remembered how cold, windy, and miserable it had been the year before and reveled in the gentle sunshine.

(Dean, Jason (not my Jason), Brent, Bob, and me, ready to go after refueling at the 2nd stop).

(admiring the desert views; before having to shake sand out of my shoes!)

I looked up and saw the Campbell Grade stretching up...and up....and up...before finally twisting and spiraling and snaking up out of sight. I gulped. It looked steep. I was going to climb 1600 feet in 3 miles."Okay," I thought to myself. Getting up this hill was a task that had been given to me. And I was going to do it. That was that. We started climbing. Dean called out, "This is steep!" I nodded because I was gasping too much to say much other than, "Yeah." I stood up out of the saddle to climb. Got into a rhythm, slowly but steadily inching upwards. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest rapidly like a hummingbird. I sat in the saddle and pushed to recover. Then, during the steep part of the switchbacks, stood to climb again. I rotated standing and sitting. Standing and sitting. Just when I became worried about climbing at that grade for 3 miles, I reached the crest. I hooted and hollered. I had been expecting another 2 miles of that! A cyclist resting at the top gave me a bewildered look. I eagerly ate up the false flat that stretched before me after that.

We reached the turn-around shortly after that and began heading back. I was elated. The worst of the climbing was over and all of those false flats would now be false downs. I was looking forward to that. Plus, I had been eating and hydrating well and felt fresh. Bring it....

(Bob, Dean, me, Brent, & Jason at the turn-around. Are we there yet?)

The lunch stop in Shelter Valley at mile 58 came flying out of nowhere. We stopped, and I realized I was ravenous. Those Cliff Bars and Blocks get old after awhile. We wolfed down our Subway sandwiches, chips, and iced tea.

(Lunchtime! Don't you love the eating pics? Jason is thoroughly enjoying his sandwich.)

I got back on Torch and continued on in high spirits. I began to believe I could actually do this thing. Before on the false flats, I had noticed every ache and pain, especially in my ass. I had to fight the negative thoughts some and block out the pain. Now that I was over half done and going downhill, I could really hammer and soar. Pain? Gone. Doubt? Nil. Energy? Yo! I had no more ass pain. It had disappeared. Why is it when conditions are tough, we focus on every little problem but when conditions are favorable, all of our problems disappear? This is a mental game--totally and completely.

The desert had changed again, fickle beast that it is, and the northerly winds were now blowing from the south. In addition, the winds had picked up speed. So a gentle headwind was now something I had to work against a bit. Not too bad but enough to sap my energy a bit. I hunkered down in the aeros and went to work, using the gentle descent to my advantage. It was now 1:30 in the afternoon, and the sun was beginning to dip behind the mountains, casting long shadows onto the desert. Following the shadows came a deep, unforgiving chills that, combined with the winds, motivated me to work just that much harder to stay warm. It seemed like the sun was setting and it was only a little after noon!

I soared down the Campbell Grade, leaning around the switchbacks. Wicked adrenaline rush. That rejuvenated me a bit. We stopped to regroup at mile 75. We all seemed a bit fatigued and were eager to keep going. Get to the finish. I noticed we were taking fewer and fewer pictures. Too much extra effort. I wolfed down some more Red Vines and a "Who's Your Daddy" energy drink. The caffeine worked on all of us. We jumped on our bikes and took off. Brent took off in the lead, chanting "Who's Your Daddy?" repeatedly. I hammered (a bit more slowly), enjoying the caffeine rush. I felt great. I was maintaining a steady, comfortable pace of 18 mph after 75 miles. I looked back and realized I was pulling 4 people. I was honored. Other cyclists thought I was fast enough to pull! "Yeah! Who's your Mommy?" I thought to myself.

After pulling for about 10 miles, Bob switched off and I drafted, allowing me to recover right up to the base of Sweeny's Pass, the final big climb at mile 90. I remembered soaring down this at the very beginning, not worrying too much about getting back up. Now, with tired legs, it seemed almost impossible. Almost. It stretched before me for what seemed like an eternity. The winds whistled through crevices in the mountains lining the canyon, and in my hazy state of mind, I eerily remembered that ghosts of miners were rumored to be running about. Every now and then, I swore I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Of course, when I turned to look, nothing was there. The "Who's Your Daddy" kick was officially gone. Fatigue had set in, and I was close to having a religious experience. A vision quest.

I saw cyclists in front of me walking their bikes and groaning and panting. I resolved to be stronger than that. I focused on my pedal stroke and rhythm and began climbing the steep grade. Up out of the saddle for the steep parts, down in the saddle to recover. I was happy I could still get up out of the saddle at mile 90. Plus, it felt good to change positions and give my sore ass a breather. It felt good to pass the other cyclists. Not only was I a masochist, enjoying my own personal suffering but I was now a sadist too, taking pleasure in the pain of others, using their pain to fuel me up the hill. I felt bad but at least I didn't feel that bad. Maybe I'm a bitch to admit that I felt this way but there it is.

We got to the top, and the view below was spectacular. "Look at the view!" Bob and Dean called out. "Yup. Very nice. Very good," I panted, evoking a chuckle from them. It was wonderful but I was tired and wanted one thing and one thing only right now. To reach the finish. I was worried if I paused or got of my bike or stopped pedaling, I wouldn't be able to start again.

(spectacular desert view at the top of the grade)

The final 9 miles were all downhill. Dean called out, "I could do this all day. Wait a minute. I have been!" We realized we were going to make it. I stared at the computer as it reached 99.99 and cried out victoriously when it flipped over to 100. We had made it! 100 miles. 5,000 feet of climbing. Not too shabby. I felt happy, tired but victorious.

(my bike computer at the end of the ride (includes ride to the car). We made it!)

(Okay! Let's stop taking pictures and go home. I'm ready for food and bed!)

It couldn't have been a more perfect training ride for Ironman Arizona. I got really good practice for the kind of mental tricks I will need to pack in my bag on race day. I also now realize another important piece of information....Ironman is going to be a really, really, really long day. It didn't really hit me before. It hit me on Saturday when I finished the century ride at 4:00 pm. I won't be starting that marathon until late in the afternoon when the sun is setting. Wow. Good to know. I'm glad I know that now and won't be surprised on race day.

After I got home, I went straight to bed. I was fast asleep by 7:30 pm and slept for 12 hours. I felt well-rested and not too sore when I got up Sunday morning. That afternoon, I was even able to go for a good, solid 8 mile run in Mission Bay. I was happy with that.

Checking In

I can't believe how quickly time is flying by. The holidays, our new apartment, the AHA fellowship (which I submit tomorrow; triple YEAH!!!)...throughout it all, somehow, I've still been working out. And it feels so good. I've hit a rhythm and my workouts help me through my busy days, instead of wearing me out. For the first time in my life, my body is absorbing the large volumes and times without wearing me down. I may still be slow but my endurance has vastly improved, and I feel stronger. I guess this training stuff does work.

Saturday 12/29:
90 mile ride--Last weekend, I rode the train up to Anaheim with a small group, and then we all rode our bikes back. The computer read 90 miles when we returned. I was stoked. That was my longest ride. Ever.
Sunday 12/30:
11 mile hilly trail run--We started in Kit Carson Park and ran around Lake Hodges in Escondido. It was beautiful. I love running in chilly (50s) weather. It took me awhile to warm up (my legs were tired from Sat.) but after 5 or 6 miles, I felt sooo good. It kind of snowballed. I couldn't believe I felt good, and it just made me feel better. Ended the run feeling like I could've run another mile.
Monday 12/31:
Weights and pool swim--Did a workout from "the Book" (Swim Workouts in a Binder). I love that thing. I could swear I'm getting faster in the water!
Tuesday 1/1:
40 mile hilly ride--Kicked off the New Year with 5,000 feet of climbing ("The Great Western Loop") in East County. The views were incredible, the descents were fast (42 mph, baby!), and the company couldn't be beat. What more can you ask for? I actually was sad when the ride ended.
Wednesday 1/2:
Pool Swim and Track Workout--The pool swim was hard (fast middle distance sets--from "the book" again) and the track workout killed me. Talk about feeling the burn!
Thursday 1/3:
37 mile ride--took me awhile to warm up but after I did, I felt great! I have discovered I am a "slow starter." I always feel like crap the first 30 minutes of any workout. Then, it's like a switch is flipped, and I feel great. I pick up the pace, feel strong, and the workout feels easy. What's the deal?
Friday 1/4:
Pool Swim and Easy Run--took it a little easier on both workouts. Yes, that's right, folks. I swam 3 times this week!
Saturday 1/5:
2 hour ride on the trainer--rained all day. Did a tough Spinerval DVD for 80 minutes followed by 40 minutes of spinning to old Tour de France clips. I really missed my long road ride. :(
Sunday 1/6:
13 mile run--I felt so good on this run. The rain stopped just long enough for the run. Tons of people showed up to run with us. I felt strong and ran like I could go forever. I love those days. Then, I crashed that afternoon. Guess that was a long run. Forced myself to go to afternoon Yoga. Guess what? It helped make me feel better. Oh, right.
Monday 1/7:
2900m Masters Swim--It was raining and dark for my first masters swim workout of the year. I swam at my first-ever 6:00 am workout (I'm not a morning person). And it was fine. We did lots of 100m repeats. Was I really swimming 1:50s for my base pace? Clock must've been off. Great to get it over with and not have to rush afterwards. Only thing is...I crash by 9:00 pm like a little kid. Relished in my 6:00 pm massage. I was SO tight! Slept like a baby that night. This was my "off" day.
Tuesday 1/8:
am Bike on Trainer and pm Track Workout--am workout was tough. felt sluggish but got it done. Another "Aero Base Training" Spinerval DVD. Ugh. The track was so crowded tonight. Gotta make room for all the New Year's Resolutions folks. It was motivating for me though. Plus, it was freezing. More motivation to run fast. There were a couple of moments I become lost in the floating movement of my feet, gliding over the surface of the track. That's why I do this....

Look Ma! I have leg muscles!

Gotta love those track workouts!

1 mi warm up

0.5 mi strides

3x1 mile timed repeats (descending)

1x400 easy b/tw each mile

1 mi cool down

Total~6 mi

What we do in San Diego the 1 Day a Year it Rains

Brent and me on the trainer the 1 day a year it rains here in San Diego. Long rides on the trainer suck!

2007 in Review

Phew, what a year! I like to wrap up each year with a thorough analysis. In addition, I like to compare my season to the previous one to check in and see how I'm doing.

In 2006, I had just moved to San Diego and was getting back into shape after falling off the wagon (or is it "on the wagon"?). Anyway, I focused on sprints and Olympics that year and did waaay too many races and not enough training.

In 2007, I moved up to the Half-Ironman distance for the first time. I kicked off the season with CA 70.3 in late March--my first-ever HIM. It kicked my butt. It didn't help that I entered that race completely overtrained and with a nasty sinus infection. Even though it was a tough race, I signed up for IM-AZ for April of '08 the following week. What was I thinking?
Afterwards, I refused to rest and began training for the San Diego Rock 'n Roll marathon in June. In mid-April, I finally realized my sinus infection had become chronic, and I had to bail on the marathon and focus on becoming well again. After 6-8 weeks of rest, multiple doctor visits, antibiotics, and Prednisone, I was ready to start training again. This brings us to June.
After only 4 weeks of training, I raced Camp Pendleton International and had my best-ever Olympic triathlon. I PR'ed and felt great, despite being out of shape! This was a great lesson to learn. After a few more sprint tris and 5ks, I buckled down and signed up for the Soma HIM in Tempe at the end of October.
My training for the 2nd HIM went much more smoothly. I improved on my swimming and biking and maintained my running. I didn't overtrain and felt energized and confident going into this race. The San Diego fires happened the week of this race, threatening to dash my plans. Relentlessly, I made the trip out to Tempe, despite the fires and the heat wave AZ was having. I raced my 2nd HIM in 97-degree weather...and had a blast. I PR'ed on the swim and bike and had my slowest half-marathon time ever but was happy to finish and felt strong at the end.
I could have been miserable but chose to stay positive and had a wonderful experience. I also learned that it's okay to slow down sometimes in order to finish. In addition, although you will have low points in a long race, they will pass if you can just wait them out. These lessons were much more valuable to me in preparation for an Ironman than if I had an easy day and PR'ed.
All in all, it's been a busy and challenging but awesome season. I am 8 weeks into my IM-AZ training plan and right on schedule. I feel strong and confident. I know '08 will be even better than '07. And '07 will be tough to beat! Thanks to all for your unwavering support and motivation through my inevitable ups and downs over the year. Many more to come!

Okay. Now here's the data analysis:

2006 Total Miles

2007 Total Miles

I trumped '06 in all 3! I doubled my swimming, doubled my biking, and increased my running. No wonder I'm getting better in the water and on the bike!

2006 Total Weekly Time

2007 Total Weekly Time











In 2006, an 8-10 hour week was a lot for me. 10-12 was too much. In 2007, I became accustomed to 8-10 hour weeks and was even able to handle 10-12 hour weeks. With a stronger base, I can absorb more training. A definite jump UP! (Note the sinus infection in '07, which caused a drop in training weeks 17-21).

All in all, a great year. IM-AZ, here I come!

Happy Holidays!

Hope everyone has a wonderfully relaxing holiday with friends and family! Have an extra piece of pumpkin pie y'all. We've earned it!

Killer Long Ride & Peaceful Long Run

Things are starting to settle down slightly. We are officially moved in. I am closer to turning in my fellowship (I can't wait to turn it in and celebrate). Xmas shopping is over. I didn't really get a whole bunch of working out done this week but by the time the weekend got here, I was ready to throw down for my long ride and run.

Long Ride (Saturday):
It was one of the hardest rides I've ever done. Tour de Julian
was harder but only because I bonked. H-I-L-L-Y!!! And when I wasn't climbing, I was contending with a headwind. This is a good ride to do in the winter because east San Diego isn't hot. We had 3 flats, and were all tired but victorious at the end. I was ecstatic to make it back to the start. There were moments when I had serious doubts. 78 miles, baby! I made it back just in time to shower and change and run to the airport to make my flight.

Long run (Sunday):
Even though I was up north (San Jose, CA) to see my parents, I was still determined to do my long run. I ran 10 miles (5 out, 5 back) on the Los Gatos Creek Trail, a beautiful, scenic east-west, 10-mile paved trail that starts in Los Gatos. I wasn't sure how I'd feel after the killer ride the day before. My quads were shot but I just started putting one foot in front of the other. Pretty quickly, I settled into a pace. It always is easier to get going when it's chilly (mid 50s) since you want to get moving to warm up.

The musky smell of eucalyptus and damp earth filled the air. I smiled at families, runners, walkers, and cyclists, who filled the trail. Everyone gave me cheerful smiles in return, fueling me with positive vibes. I reached Vasona Park in time to catch a glimpse of the little train making a circuit with parents and kids on-board. They smiled and waved. A pair of white ducks nestled happily together on the other bank. The water levels of the reservoir were eerily low; NorCal must be going through a drought. Normally, the creek is a rushing rapid this time of year; today it was a low, lazy trickle. I feasted my eyes on the water fowl--Canandian geese, ducks, coots, cormorants, and egrets. A black cat stalked its unsuspecting prey in the grass, so focused on his task he was completely oblivious to my passing kisses.

I reached the turn-around and headed back, bewildered by how good I felt. I had been clocking my time at the mile markers and was managing a comfortable 9:30 pace. Not bad considering the bike ride yesterday. Parts of my body took turns complaining. My left knee, then the arches of my feet from my new orthotics. Followed by my big toe where a new callous was forming. I patiently blocked out each nagging ache and twinge, knowing it would pass and eventually grow numb. This little shred of knowledge, expectation, helped greatly in dealing with the inevitable agonizing pain of a long run. Oddly enough, climbing uphill felt great. No problems there as I surged up every incline. Downhill was a completely different story. My quads screamed, and I grimaced as I half-skipped, half tip-toed down each descent. My quads were completely shredded. Feeling a little fatigued, I popped a Cliff Blok at 60 minutes, even though I didn't feel hungry. Sure enough, a few minutes later, my gait felt easy and rhythmic. I popped another one 15 minutes later, and this took me home.

The scenery was beautiful. I felt like I had been dropped into the middle of a painting. The noonday sunlight trickled through the trees lining the path, drenching the grass in flax and the leaves in cornsilk, a stark contrast to their deep native green. The sunlight played shadows on the lush mountains in the distance, tinting them a deep plum purple lined in amber. I drank it all in, feeling a quiet stillness inside. I wanted to linger here just a moment longer. I exchanged a smile and a wink with another passing runner, as if we each shared the same secret to happiness. At mile 9, my body parts were no longer taking turns--they were all yelling at the same time. Knowing I only had a mile left to go, I dug in and pushed towards the finish. When I finally finished, I felt fully satiated, albeit slightly tired. Like all long runs, there had been lows and there had been highs, but luckily on this one, the highs had far outweighed the lows.

Thanksgiving Day Turkey Trot

I know this is very late but I had such a good time on this run, I wanted to share.

More detail on this run can be found at:
http://trigirlrunning.blogspot.com/2007/12/berbee-derby-10k.html

For Thanksgiving, Jason and I went to Wisconsin, near Madison (we met at UW-Madison, where we both went to school). His family lives on a dairy farm in Belleville, WI, 30 minutes south of Madison.

We changed planes in Minnesota and, as if on cue, it started flurrying. We had to wait on the ground as they de-iced the plane. De-ice? I'm from San Diego, folks. Please. De-ice! De-ice! I didn't mind the wait. I just hoped the snow wouldn't be too bad.














By the time we got to his parents, the snow was accumulating on the roads, and it was dark. Luckily, his brother, accustomed to snow, drove us from the airport to his parents. I could see large, wet flakes falling from the sky (see pic to right). Thrilling.

The next morning, a white blanket of snow covered the ground. The farm was a beautiful sight (see below). I had forgotten how still, quiet, and muffled everything became with snow. Very peaceful. I put all my winter running clothes on. All of them. Long underwear under my running tights, thermal, long-sleeved running shirt, biking jacket, gloves, scarf, ear muffs, thick socks. Then, I ran out of clothes. We drove to the race start.













I saw an outdoor thermometer on a bank sign. We had to stop and take a pic. 24 degrees, baby. Oh, yeah.












I had thought the jog over to the bank thermometer would be a good warm-up but we quickly realized warming up was not going to happen. Plus, there was a ton of ice on the streets and sidewalks (see pic), reducing us to the penguin shuffle. Yipee.














After picking up our race packets, we convinced someone to take our pic. We huddled together to stay warm. Luckily, even though I'm a wimp from San Diego, this was the first major cold snap of the season so everyone, even the hardened Wisconsintes, was suffering.

















We all huddled together at the start, sharing body heat. Maybe this is why people from Wisconsin are so nice? They cuddle a lot! The gun went off, and I took off. I wanted to get warm. Luckily, there wasn't much ice on the roads but I was concerned about the trails coming up. I managed a pretty aggressive pace, running at a slightly uncomfortable RPE. My breathing was sharp, every 2 steps, and it would have been possible to talk in short phrases.

When we hit the trails, I was pleasantly surprised to see there were only a few patches of ice here and there to avoid but I could still run. The crowds had thinned out, and I had plenty of room. I settled in nicely, enjoying the bare, winter trees and brown grass. I had forgotten how dormancy takes over the land in winter.

I remembered this one, final, killer hill at the very end of this race (we ran it a few years ago) that had almost done me in. As we left the trail and turned up the road, I felt the adrenaline surge. I knew the finish was close. All that was between me and the line was that last hill. I attacked. Expecting it to be tough, I gave it all I got. All of a sudden, I was at the top. I actually felt disappointed. That was it? That's all you got? C'mon! Bring it! Without needing any recovery, I increased the tempo, beginning my final surge toward the finish.

I glanced at my watch (which matched my chip time). 54:25 total time (8:46 min/mi). Not a PR, but not bad either. I am salivating to get some speed back. I know I can beat this! However, I'm not disappointed, considering I haven't been working on speed at all.

Jason and I ran back to the car and cranked the heat. Cooling off in cold weather is not fun! Here we are, red-faced, and happy we got our Turkey Trot in. Where's the closest Starbucks? Time for hot chocolate!
















We did our long run that Saturday on the Badger State Trail. It was cold, windy, and isolated but a very enjoyable experience. Note to self--for a PR, run in cold weather, during hunting season. If gunshots don't get your feet moving, nothing will! More detail on this run can be found at the link below:
http://trigirlrunning.blogspot.com/2007/12/badger-state-trail-run.html

Still Here

Thanks so much, everyone, for all your support. I can't wait to get a little bit more time and catch up on everyone's blog. I'm so behind on blogging. I have a great Thanksgiving Day Turkey Trot with pics to report on but still need to get them scanned in. Anyway, lots of exciting posts to come.

For right now, I'm still working on the fellowship, still working on moving, still plugging away in lab and my training. The fellowship is in the editing phase, and I'm working my tail off in lab to finish up some preliminary studies. I am SO going to celebrate when that thing gets turned in!

I've somehow managed to do x-mas shopping and put together an awesome card for the holidays. I've been cranking those out too. I'll share this year's holiday card soon.

We are now sleeping at the new place and have all the boxes moved over but are not yet unpacked. I can only do so much until the rest of the furniture comes on Sunday. I have, however, unpacked the bathrooms, closets, and kitchen. I love the new place! I can't wait until I get to the "decorating" phase. The bunnies are adjusting well to the new place as well. Taz loves exploring--hasn't lost that adventurous spirit after 8 1/2 years! Babs is a little more nervous but as long as I tell her it's okay, she's fine.

I've been keeping up with training too! I don't know how. Luckily, December is "Prep" phase. I'm just getting my body used to working out again. Since I wasn't that out of shape to begin with, it's been relatively easy to slip back into a schedule. If I could just up the master's swimming to 3x a week, instead of 2!

Let's see...where did I leave off?
Friday, December 7
am
made it to the pool for my 2nd master's workout of the week, despite pouring rain and 40 degree weather!!! Brrrr! (It's an outdoor pool, and we San Diegans are wimps.) Once I got in, the water felt good. It felt so good to swim and overcome the weather! Putting on wet jeans afterwards? Not so much. We worked on going fast. It was so much fun. Guess what? I love going fast. It makes base pace feel like cake. The workout is below:
http://swimtri.blogspot.com/2007/12/time-to-sprint.html
pm
went for my favorite easy, 4-mile run at work. I was able to push the pace again! I think it's the cold weather. Makes me feel snappy!
Saturday, December 8
long bike day
Everyone was afraid of the rain but I called it's bluff. Doesn't everyone know it doesn't rain in San Diego? And when it does, it's only allowed to rain from 6 pm to 7 am? By 8 am, the roads were wet, it was chilly, and the winds were blustery but the sun was out. It was awesome to ride in the brisk, sunny weather. I wore my cold-weather gear (arm and leg warmers, booties, jacket w/removable arms, gloves, and skull cap) and actually got pretty hot!
Unfortunately, only 5 other guys showed up, 4 of whom were super fast. I didn't have a prayer of sticking with them so I sent them on their way. The other guy was coming back from an off-season and wanted to take it slow (sans computer and everything). I was overjoyed...even when he had to stop for flats...twice. At least I had someone to bike with! The ride took forever with the wind and the flats. It was a verrrry hard and hilly 50 miles. I was completely beat at the end and needed the rest of the afternoon on the sofa to recover.
http://sdbikeroutes.blogspot.com/2007/12/48-mile-rsf-ride.html
Sunday, December 9
long run day
I met with my running group at 7:15 am. 40 degrees. Brrrr! Again, the sun was out and there was no rain. I was only going to run 9, especially considering how beat up I felt after Saturday's ride. I ended up running 10 at a very strong pace (for me), averaging 9 min/miles. Yes! Spent the rest of the day moving.
Monday, December 10
master's swim: I remember it being really hard and having lots of butterfly and IMs but I can't actually remember the workout. Darn! I still got in 2700 meters. It was such a hectic day after that. At least I got a massage at 6!
Tuesday, December 11
OFF--completely bogged down with moving and unpacking. Sigh.
Wednesday, December 12
am:
missed my am swim. :( However, I decided to go for an exploratory bike ride around the new place. All I can say is: the biking is AWESOME!!! There are so many great biking routes to choose from. I headed out on the bike path (1 mile from my new place), turned north for awhile before turning back and returning a different route. It was wicked fun. Although very hilly. Thought I was having a bad day until I turned around and started flying. Ooooh. I had been going uphill the entire way. Made me feel a bit better. Total mileage: 20
pm:
went for my usual afternoon run from lab. 4 miles. Didn't feel as easy this time. I'm breaking in new orthotics, and my feet hurt. Yuck. I felt like I had run out of gas and could only do a slow pace. Decided to use it as a recovery run.
Thursday, December 13
Gosh, is that today already? missed my am masters swim....again! I feel so guilty. Apparently, I needed 9.5 hours of sleep last night. I slept very soundly. Went for an afternoon bike ride up the coast. 20 miles. I felt speedy! It felt so good to have juice in my legs. The 3 caffeinated Cliff Blocks didn't hurt. Climbed the inside of Torrey Pines for a good kick-my-ass workout at the end. Lab has been tough today. I'm glad I got my bike in.
Coming Up
I hope to swim and run tomorrow. Saturday will be a 60 mile ride to build from last weekend. Sunday will be another 10 miles. And I will finish moving in this weekend!

Re-Cap

Sometimes I feel like I'm being tested. Either that, or God is playing a joke on me. Right now, I'm barely hanging on. Honestly, I can't believe I've been managing to keep things in as much of a balance as I've managed. Let's recap:

Sunday Nov. 25:
After returning from Thanksgiving last Sunday (which I still need to report on--lots of stuff to talk about there), Jason and I hit the ground running, signed a new lease on our apartment, picked up boxes, and started packing.
Monday Nov. 26:
I actually managed to join up with my master's swim at UCSD before rushing Oscar to the vet. Dropped him at home, went to lab. Made it to my 6 pm massage. Thank God for small things. Worked all night to prepare for lab meeting.
Tuesday Nov. 27:
Biked on the trainer in the am (Spinerval Time Trial 2.0). It was really crappy but I got it done. Went to lab and gave lab meeting. It actually didn't go half-bad, if you can believe it. Squeezed in much-needed lunchtime Yoga. Left early to go see the podiatrist. Got the bad news about Oscar from the vet. Went for a hard, therapeutic 10K run in Rose Canyon, followed by weights. Spent the evening petting Oscar.
Wednesday Nov. 28:
Had to go to lab for a very important seminar. Left early to take Oscar to the vet and have him put down. Cars blared their horns outside in the frenzied mass of rush hour. It felt like I was dropping off the dry cleaning. Life doesn't slow down for anyone. This upset me. No moment of silence. I went home and continued packing to take my mind off things. I did my usual crossword puzzles to relax. One of the clues was: "Sesame Street Grouch." So much for taking my mind off things.
Thursday Nov. 29:
Tried to go to lab but couldn't stop crying. Life may have been rushing around outside but I created stillness and silence for 24 hours within my apartment, allowing myself to grieve. By the end of the day, I was exhausted and had a headache from crying. I cried until I felt ill. Since my day of crying, I've been able to hold back the tears. I don't want to cry anymore. It feels like dry heaving at this point. Afterwards, I slept in a deep, dreamless state.
Friday Nov. 30:
Woke up early and did weights. Babs and Taz played with me while I did my push ups and sit ups and bench presses. Went to lab and finished the rough draft of my fellowship. I should have been thrilled but I wasn't. Maybe it will sink in once it's turned in. It rained buckets all day. I've never seen it rain that hard in San Diego. Funny how my environment matched my mood. As if the skies were mourning with me. Maybe it was a sign. My stomach hurt all night, and I didn't get to sleep until 4 am. I had strong doubts about making my own bike ride. After 1 Pepcid, 1 Prilosec, 2 Gas-X, and 1 Immodium, I was good to go.
Saturday Dec. 1st:
It's December already. Life doesn't slow down for anyone. Began my long, weekend rides again. Today was the first official day of my training plan for IMAZ. I will post my training plan soon. Biked 40 miles around Elfin Forest and Del Dios. The creek alongside Elfin Forest was engorged and angry but the windy roads were surrounded by fresh grass and greenery. The earth was moist and smelled delicious. Del Dios was like a different universe. It had been torched by the fires. The rain had caused multiple landslides. The water in Lake Hodges was a sickly, radioactive green. The headwind and crosswind was particularly wicked, forcing me to use a deathgrip on the handlebars to stay upright. Black ash stuck to my damp face. I needed to see it. I hadn't ridden Del Dios since the fires. It's pretty tragic.
Later that afternoon, friends came over to view the airing of Ironman Hawaii on NBC. It was good to have a houseful of friends to make the place seem less empty.
Sunday, December 2:
Woke up feeling exhausted from a chronic stomachache that had been plaguing me since Wednesday (and all my happenings). Went back to sleep. Jason and I went for a 9 mile run in Rose Canyon, even though I didn't want to. We were SO good. We got it done. Afterwards, we dropped off more boxes (3rd load) at the new apartment, bought a bed, and picked up more boxes from lab. I spent the evening packing and explaining to Jason that, yes, it was totally justified that we were exhausted.
Monday, December 3:
Made it to the pool for masters swimming. Seems to be a bad habit I've fallen into--going 1x/week. Ugh. Went to lab, then my massage. Ran a ton of errands afterwards.
Tuesday, December 4:
Ended up just doing lab stuff all day and no workouts. Beat myself up about it. This was a real low energy day. I got a burst at 11 pm and finished packing the entire apartment. I do that sometimes.
Wednesday, December 5:
Missed my morning workout but berated myself onto the trainer that evening. The chill and gloom in the air as well as the early evening darkness is really getting to me. Plus, I feel hungry all the time. Hard to start a workout hungry. Anyway, forced myself onto the trainer for a Spinerval workout. Did the Time Trial 2.0 DVD again to see if I could make up for my poor performance last time. It still sucked but I had my moments. Afterwards, I realized I had the trainer extra tight on the wheel, creating more resistance. This cheered me up some. Followed up the bike with weights.
Thursday, December 6:
Slept in and missed my swim. Damn! Worked on editing the fellowship. Despite the gloom and impending storm, slipped out early to go for a 30-mile ride up the coast. Hammered on the way out to warm up, taking advantage of the tail wind. Fought the head wind on the way back. It feels SO good to go hard sometimes, doesn't it? Forgot my arm warmers so stopped at B&L on the way home to get arm warmers, knee warmers, and lights since it was getting dark. Also swapped out my beaver cleaver bike seat for a much more ergonomic one. Much better. Jason will be happy. Drooled over their carbon road bikes. Continued on my way home. Followed it up with a very nice, relaxing 4 mile run at a 9 min/mile pace. Felt comfortable. Rhythmic. My vision was soft and my mind was empty. I could have stayed there forever. It reminded me of why I like running. Time stops and I hang in the moment of suspension between each footstep.

I'm hanging on. I'm being patient. I'm waiting for time to heal my wounds.