Rockin' Friday Swim

I was planning on swimming a mile in the Cove so I drove over Friday after work. I found a place to park straight away, a bad sign, since it's usually packed, forcing me to park a mile away. The weather had been chilly and windy with gusts up to 30 mph. I had a sinking feeling the water would be rough. I got out of the car and walked to the path overlooking the Cove. I gasped. There were whitecaps stretching all the way west to the horizon. A few die-hard swimmers lurched back and forth as they were tousled up and down with the enormous swells. It was high tide and the waves crashed up on the tops of the rocks where the cormorants roost. I could imagine all the bacteria from the bird poop flooding the water as the waves washed it off the rocks. The Cove, which is normally laden with snorkelers and calm and clear, had an empty beach, and the water was frothy with tumultuous waves. I remembered forcing myself to swim a mile in conditions like these about a year ago, returning to shore extremely seasick and having swallowed a ton of water. I got sick from swallowing all the nasty stuff washed off the rocks and spent the next few days hovered over the toilet, emptying all contents of stomach. I looked wistfully at the water once more, got back into my car, and promptly drove to the pool.

A couple of years ago, I would have just driven home. The thought crossed my mind. I gave myself the option. "I'm tired. It's Friday. I have a big weekend ahead of me. It would be perfectly okay to go home and rest." Then I thought, "I've only swum once this week. Let's just go and see how I feel. I'll be happier afterwards. Swimming is not that taxing on the body." And I realized I wanted to swim.

Even the pool seemed cool the first 10 minutes. I guess it's just that time of year. I started with a nice warm-up of 3x150s--free-back-breast (50 each). Adjusted my goggles and did a test 50 free. Then, I started my 4x500s. This is great practice for a Half-Ironman distance swim. I decided to do them descending, trying to do each one a little faster. The first 500m, I took it real easy. On the odd 50s, I swam bilaterally. The whole time I focused on form. 2nd set, I tried to swim at moderate pace. However, I counted strokes on the even 50s, trying to elongate my stroke, think about form and subtract a stroke from each progressive even 50. 3rd set, I swam bilaterally on the odd 50s again, trying to swim a moderate pace. The final 500 meters, I let the lead out and decided to see how fast I could go. Afterwards, I swam an easy 200 meters cool-down. I couldn't believe how quickly the time went! It was a fantastic swim. The water felt slippery, and I felt I was cutting through the water. I wanted more! I also have found it's easier to swim fast, if you can maintain it, because you are positioned higher on the water.

Here's the break-down:
Set 1: 10:50
Set 2: 10:45
Set 3: 10:35
Set 4: 8:45!!!

I have NEVER swum that fast before. Normally, my race pace for a 500 meter swim is about 10 minutes. However, I have been concentrating so much on base pace and technique, I haven't been working on speed much at all. I decided to just let 'er rip on that last set. I couldn't believe I could maintain such a high intensity for all 10 laps. But it felt awesome! My technique has improved and my strength and endurance have increased as well. I've been fighting the hardest for this, so I was extremely stoked after.

I enjoyed a soak in the hot tub afterwards. It was one of the most awesome swims I've had in a loong time.

Woke up this morning and enjoyed a nice, very slow 12 mile run in Penasquitos Canyon. I was tired, and it was hard. I got it done. Last long run before the half-ironman. I can accept that. Tomorrow is my last long ride before the race--Tour de Poway--metric century.

Mental Exercises--Overcoming Negativity at Fiesta Island

If this week has been a whirlwind, this weekend is going to be a hurricane (final training week--long run Sat, followed by long bike Sun). It's all good though. Jason has come down with a cold, and since I'm feeling run down anyway, I'm treating him like a leper, poor guy. I've been furiously sticking Zicam nasal swabs up my nose every 3 hours, trying to ward off the oncoming cold but I can't help feel a little like I'm throwing salt over my shoulder to ward off bad luck.

Next week, I begin my taper. Part of me can't wait. The other part is nervous about doing less. I finally feel like my body is getting accustomed to 10-12 hour weeks. I'm recovering faster and able to handle a slightly heavier training load, slightly higher intensities, and even squeeze in weights, stretching, Yoga, acupuncture, massage, a smattering of a social life, and lots of sleep. It'll be hard to dial it down--25%, 50%, 75%.

After my bike and weights Tuesday and my awesome swim Wednesday morning, I met up with my tempo running group for a Wednesday evening run. Most of the runners were missing since they were traveling to Utah for the St. George Marathon. The few of us stragglers enjoyed a nice, 6-mile run on one of the Torrey Pines trails, finishing on Black's Beach. I got a great workout between the trail and beach running.

It was high tide, forcing us to run in deeper sand and play chicken with the surf as it threatened to sweep around our ankles. It feels like winter on the beach. The air is cooler, the water is rougher and the wind has picked up. We got to see the sunset at the end. That's 2 days in a row for me! Plus, the climb back up the mountain by the Glider Port was extra credit afterwards!

Yesterday, I missed my am swim. Damn! I opted to do weights again. That's the 2nd week in a row I got my 2 weights/week in. 2 for 2! I can really notice a difference too. I've gained 2 pounds while my body fat has dropped slightly, and my arm muscles are starting to pop. Plus, I feel stronger and faster on my runs. Gotta love weights.

Thursday evening, I trucked Torch over to Fiesta Island for a 16 mile time trial workout followed by a 4-mile brick run in Mission Bay. I normally ride over but with the sun setting so early now, I decided to just focus on 4-mile loops around the Island and weed out the commuting parts. Fiesta Island is perfect for time trials--no stop lights, very little traffic, high winds--great to break out the tri bike. I started out, preparing for the usual eastward headwind. Instead, I was presented with a tailwind (either that, or I have become Supergirl fast since I was clocking 25 mph).
As I swung around to the south side of the island, the headwind hit me. It was strong! On my first lap, I kept my intensity and was reduced to a humbling 14.7 mph. I hate wind. It's this strange, invisible entity that I can't size up, unlike hills. I used to hate hills too but living in San Diego has forced me to befriend them. I still can't climb fast but at least I can climb, and I embrace them. However, I'm still working on loving, or at least liking, the wind. Since I can't see it, it's this relentless, battering force that plays mind games with me. When will it end? How bad will it get? Why am I going so slow? It's torture!

I've been working on my mental toughness so I decided to use the headwind on Fiesta Island as a mental exercise. The wind hit me and internally, I groaned. "C'mon now," I told myself. "It's Fiesta. You knew there would be winds. It's good practice." The devil on my shoulder just stuck her tongue out at me.

I've come to realize it's uselss to argue, fight or even talk with the negative voices in my head. It's a waste of precious energey. I'm learning how to let the negative thoughts flow over me. I hear the thought, let it pass, and don't justify it with a response. It's like ignoring the whiny brat, begging for candy at the grocery store. Eventually, the whiny brat, realizing you're not giving her any attention, gives up. Instead, I focus on trying to clear my head of any thought whatsoever. Empty my mind. I figured this out during the La Jolla Rough Water Swim when negative thougts threatened to disarm me. When I stopped fighting with the negativity and told myself to deal with the thoughts later, I was able to clear my head and focus on the task at hand--swimming. This was a breakthrough workout, mentally. Ever since, I have been able to disarm the negative thoughts in a split second and consciously return to the zone.

As the wind pounded me, I cleared my head and then focused on my pedal stroke. I kept it even and rhythmic. I focused on my hip joint, moving in a circular rhythm, imagining the power flowing out of my hips. I let my mind become attuned to the rhythm--this makes it easier to stay in the zone. I felt as if the wind was pounding all around me but I was protected inside this shielded bubble where it couldn't touch me. Inside my bubble, I was spinning away.

Once I realized I could use the headwind as an exercise for mental toughness, I welcomed the grinding 2-mile stretch of wind on each lap. It became a challenge instead of a battle. Then, I had 2 miles of sweet, rewarding tailwind to recover. I did this 4x and felt like I had overcome my inner beast by the 4th lap. Plus, my total average mph was 18.2! This is much higher than my speed in the past so that was definitely icing on the cake!

I polished it off with a 40 minute brick run. I ran along the northeast side of Mission Bay from Fiesta Island to DeAnza Cove and back. It was fantastic. Even though it was nightfall, street lights marked the path, and the sidewalk was littered with other runners, walkers and cyclists so I never was alone. Plus, I love running in the dark--it's so surreal. I feel like my feet are floating over the ground. I felt very comfortable the whole way.

The Soma Half-Ironman is in less than 4 weeks! Can you believe it? I feel ready. Everything has gone so smoothly. I'm starting to get butterflies. I also can't believe the Ironman World Championships are next weekend!

Falling back in a rhythm

That trip this weekend really took it out of me. I couldn't figure out why I was sleeping so much and waking up tired. Then it hit me. Jet lag! Dammit!

I decided there was no better cure for jet lag then a good, hard bike ride after work up the coast. So yesterday, I headed north from Torrey Pines and settled into a comfortably hard pace. How do you ensure a solid negative-split bike ride? With only 1.5 hours of sunlight left, ride out for an hour, and then turn around and sprint home!

At a stop light about 5 miles up, I recognized a friend I hadn't seen in 6 months! This is starting to happen more and more and makes every work out exciting. There's the unexpected anticipation of the possibility of bumping into a friend. We rode together until my turn around at mile 15, chatting and catching up. My pace didn't change (still comfortably hard--about 16 mph) but I knew he was holding back for me (he's an avid hard-core roadie).

We said our goodbyes in Carlsbad, and I turned around and headed home. I looked at my watch. Yup. 6:00. I glanced at the sun slowly sinking into the Pacific. I knew I had 30-35 minutes to get back, including up the Torrey Pines hill. I took off.

It felt great, to be honest. I focused on an extra push off the pedal at the bottom of every stroke. Plus, my new seat felt great--no aches or rubs--and this all in tri shorts! I started passing people; this never happens. It only fueled my enthusiasm.

A small group of guys sprinted by me. I let them go. There are tons of cyclists out there that are way faster than me. I'm used to roadies whizzing by like I'm standing still. No problem. However, a half mile up the road, they slowed up. Great! Now I have someone to draft off of. I caught up and relaxed. We went up a small hill. All of a sudden, I realized I was being held back. wtf? These guys passed me, right? Shouldn't they be setting the pace?

I hate passing. I know, I know. I'm weird. It puts pressure on me to hold the pace. I especially hate passing those who have passed me because it's extra pressure. I'd rather sit back and let a group slightly faster than me set the pace. Then I don't have to think about it. Less work for me!

With the sun setting, I didn't have much of a choice. I blasted by. We regrouped at a stop light. They were very nice and complimented my pace: "you're clipping right along!" I decided they were right, and when the light turned green, I took off. My goal was to make every light. I had to work for it, but I did. I never saw those guys again. Another mile up the road, I caught another cyclist who had passed me a few miles back. Never saw him again either. I don't know if it was the adrenaline or the fear of riding home in the dark (gotta start bringing the lights!) but I held the pace the entire time (about 18-20 mph).

As I soared by the Torrey Pines State Beach, I watched the sun sink into the horizon. I checked my watch: 6:35. Surrounded by several other cyclists and only 3 miles from the truck, I sighed and relaxed. All I had left was the Torrey Pines hill. I floored it the whole way up. That's my hill, baby. I know it like the back of my hand. It felt so good to let the lead out.

I got back to the truck just as the last remnant of sunshine ceded to darkness. My legs were tired but I felt exhilarated. I went home and eeked out a solid 45 minutes of weights, just to polish it off.

This morning, I had a terrific swim workout. It's a new quarter at UCSD so we have new people in the pool! My lane was more crowded than usual, and the other swimmers really pushed me. When I started swimming masters regularly this summer, I was doing 2:30s fro my 100s. I knew I had gotten down to 2:20 or even 2:15 but pretty soon, I realized I was swimming 2:00 comfortably. We swam a "test" 100s 4x as fast as we could with 20 seconds rest to see where we were all starting from. 1:40! I can hardly believe it!

I'm feeling pretty good right now (a little sore)...but very good.

Virginia Creeper Trail Run

I love running in foreign towns when I travel. I have experienced the most wonderful things this way. Plus, there's no better way to spice up a long run!

On Saturday morning, Jason and I headed to the historic town of Abingdon, Virginia, 10 miles north of the Tenessee border to do our weekly long run on the Virginia Creeper Trail. Believe it or not, I actually lived in Abingdon for a stint while in high school so it was also a trip down memory lane.

It was difficult to wake up at 8:00 am EST for breakfast; we were still on PST. However, it was nice to have room service deliver eggs, bacon and breakfast potatoes to our door. I also sipped on coffee and OJ. I normally never eat such a wholesome breakfast before a long run.

By the time we got to the trailhead in Abingdon, it was a little after 10 am. It was nice to take our time and digest breakfast. We both were drinking in all the sights. Next to the trailhead was a really neat bike shop, the Virginia Creeper Trail Bike Shop, where you could rent a bike on the trail. It was very tempting. The staff was very friendly and offered Jason and I maps as well as the use of their bathroom, even though we were runners, not cyclists that day. They even helped us with where to go to lunch afterwards!

We started running at 10:30 am. My stomach was a little tight from the heavy breakfast but not bad, especially for a low intensity, long run. In addition, my energy level felt great. I felt well-rested and properly fueled. We had brought the San Diego weather with us. It was clear, sunny and in the 70s.

We crossed the bridge at the trailhead and drank in the sights. The first yellow leaves of autumn had fallen on the trail, blanketing the well-packed gravel. The yellow leaves markedly contrasted against the thick, velvet green carpet of grass lushly growing along the banks of the trail. It was cool and moist on the trail, protected by thick lines of shady maples. I could smell the fresh, wet earth from a recent rain. Auburn and black wooly worms wriggled across the path, a clear sign of fall. Some say you can predict how harsh the winter will be by how much black is on the caterpillars.

I fell into a deep rhythm and pictured the Native Americans who used to traverse this path in the 16 and 1700s. I pictured the Revolutionary War and Civil War soldiers marching on the trail to battle. Then, I pictured the steam engine, pulling trains of coal and lumber into the Appalachians. It felt like I was going back in time.

Rolling farmland surrounded us on either side. Pastures filled with sleek, happy horses or dotted with black and brown cattle lined the path. Against the rolling pastures and farmland was a steep backdrop of mountains, the Appalachians, Smokies, and Blue Ridge all in the distance. A bright, red cardinal flew atop a neighboring limb and began chirping. Used to the dry, arid region of San Diego, I was amazed by the lush, green vegetation surrounding us. Of course, on our drive back to the hotel, a giant bug splatted on our windshield, and I was quickly reminded with the negatives that come along with all that greenery.

The other runners, walkers and cyclists on the trail were very friendly. Everyone said "Hi," or "Good morning." There was a group of elderly cyclists that I kept passing, who were very encouraging. They would stop to admire the view, and I would run by. The men in the group ran to their bikes, exclaiming, "C'mon! She's beating us!" The women in the group encouraged me as I passed, "You're doing great!" Next time I saw them, "Still doing great!" It definitely gave me a spring in my step. I loved all the positive energy from the other people on the trail.

I had to force myself to stop running at mile 5.75. I had only meant to run out 5 for an even 10. But I was having so much fun! The mile markers just zipped by. However, even though I desperately wanted to know what was around the next bend, I had to stop myself. Otherwise, I might be tempted to run the 34 miles into North Carolina! On the return to the start, the going was much slower. As I had been warned by the staff at the bike shop, there was a sneaky 2% grade on the way back. 2%, pshaw! It definitely got me on the return home. I couldn't see it but I could feel it. The sneaky little incline was relentless!

I felt exhilarated when I returned to the trailhead. I had run 11.5 instead of 10, and it had gone by in a snap! I felt as if not only had I done my physical exercise, but also a spiritual rejuvenation that morning.

My camera pooped out on me so these pics are not my own. They are from the bike shop's website: http://www.vacreepertrailbikeshop.com/
However, I did see all these things!

historic steam engine at the trailhead in Abingdon

view of the trail and mountains in the backdrop

view of farmland from the trail

http://trigirlrunning.blogspot.com/2007/09/virginia-creeper-trail.html

Traveling for the Health-Conscious Athlete

Well, folks, I head out for Tennessee manana. It's the crazy 24-hour countdown where you try to get as much as you can done without going to pieces before getting on the plane.

Since we spoke last, I've gotten in a great 6-mile run, a weight session and a swim session. Doing pretty well, eh? If I can only hop on the trainer tonight and then in the pool 1 last time for a 6:00 am workout before getting on the plane, I will be set up for a perfect week.

I thought I would use this opportunity to discuss traveling tips for the overworked, health-conscious athlete:

1. Plan ahead. You will be extra-busy and have less flexibility. Fill out your schedule to figure out how to get everything done the week before. Stick to it. Now is not the time to procrastinate. Don't forget details. Do you need a pet sitter? Schedule in advance. A cab to the airport? Reserve one the night before. Don't leave anything last minute.

2. Be realistic. Do not expect to complete your 2-year long "To Do" list. Delegate some items to after your return.

3. Reschedule workouts to fit them all in. My off day is normally Monday but since I'm traveling on Friday, I switched my off day to Friday this week.

4. Schedule workouts while you're away. Many hotels have gyms and some even have lap pools. Do a little research on-line before you go. If your hotel doesn't have a pool, look up local lap pools that charge a daily-use fee or drop-in masters programs. Swimmer's Guide is indispensable for this. Call ahead to confirm that what you find on-line is actually available in reality. In addition, you can run anywhere--all you need is a pair of running shoes. Research routes ahead of time or just use your watch and do a timed out-and-back from your hotel. USATF has a great resource for this. Traveling is a great opportunity to try new scenic runs and get to know the area your visiting from a different perspective. The only thing that is really hard to do when you're away is biking so plan ahead. You may be able to find a few spinning classes or access to some spinning bikes. Also, research the bike stores in the area. Some may provide rentals. And don't forget, you can always do crunches, push-ups, and stretching right in your hotel room!

5. Use travel time as down-time. Airports can be hectic and stressful. I like to use this time to relax. When else can I read trashy novels and smut magazines? I listen to music, tune out the hustle-bustle and enjoy the time I have to wait for the plane.

6. Walk and stretch before boarding. You will be sitting for a long time, which is really hard on your already sore body. Make sure your carry-on is light so you can walk around the terminal and stretch your legs. Find a quiet place and really stretch out your legs before you sit down. Do it again when you land. Your body will thank you later.

7. Drink LOTS of water.

8. Eat healthy. This can be challenging when eating out but be disciplined. Go for salads, sandwiches and smoothies. Always choose baked or grilled over fried. Less sauce means fewer calories. Try to eat as many veggies and fruits as you can. Along these same lines, don't eat anything weird. I have ruined more than a few trips with food poisoning.

9. Get lots of sleep. Traveling through many time zones can leave you feeling jet-lagged. Depending on the length of your stay, you can either a) change your schedule to the new time zone (not recommended but can't be helped if you are staying for a week or more) or b) stick to your home time zone (best for shorter stays). Try to avoid naps when you arrive and go to bed early instead. This will help the following morning.

10. Wash your hands. Don't forget to take your multi. You are being exposed to many new germs, and the change is a shock to your immune system. Avoid getting a cold by being OCD about hygiene.

With just a little planning and discipline, traveling can take a lot less out of you than it needs to. Happy Training!

Manic Busy

I finally feel recovered after my late night out in the Gaslamp. Phew! I'm going out of town for a wedding in Tenessee this weekend, and this is one of the final Build weeks before I begin to taper for Soma so the crunch is on. I may feel like I'm going crazy but I always do best under pressure so I'm getting an exorbitant amount of stuff done. Here's what I've done so far, mixed with what I'm planning to do:

Monday--
Erin headed back to Davis in the am (sniff, sniff).
After work, squeezed in a 4 mile run
Just made it for my much-needed massage (after all that dancing!)
Went home and lifted weights (not very sensible after lifting weights but oh well).

Tuesday--
swam in my masters swim class--is it just me, or is it getting harder to wake up in the morning?
Here's the workout (aptly named "Too Many 100s): http://swimtri.blogspot.com/2007/09/too-many-100s.html
Made it just in time for lab meeting. Work's been crazy too!
Snuck out to go to B&L (my favorite bike store) for some adjustments to Torch--new bike seat and shortened handlebars
Quickie ride on the coast
Intended to go to Yoga but too wiped--went home and went to bed by 9:00 pm instead (I was toast!)

Wednesday--
Rushed Oscar to the vet this morning to drop him off for surgery. His teeth are bothering him (again) and his abcess may be coming back. I hate leaving him!

I have to try and get as much done at lab before rushing back to pick up Oscar. Plus, I have to show the pet sitter how to give Oscar his meds.
Tonight--planning a 6-mile Rose Canyon run, followed by weights and 20-30 minutes of stretching.

Thursday--
Master's swim in the am
Work my ass off in lab
Get in a solid 20 mile tempo ride
Do a little grocery shopping for the buns, clean up the apt, and pack!

Friday--
Cove swim 6 am, bright and early
Be home, showered and ready to go 7:30 am to the airport for our 9:00 am flight
Arrive in Bristol, TN 7:30 EST (yuck!)

Saturday--
The one little slice of heaven all week--a fantastic 10-mile run Sat am along the VA Creeper Trail in Abingdon.
http://trigirlrunning.blogspot.com/2007/09/virginia-creeper-trail.html
5 pm wedding

Sunday--
6 am flight back to SD (at least I get back early)
1:30 pm 60 mile ride
http://sdbikeroutes.blogspot.com/2007/09/weekend-training-ride-93007.html

Then, I can crash.

Amateur Tri Girl Rages in the Gaslamp

My sister departed for UC-Davis this morning, leaving me sapped of my inner life source. I just can't keep up with the 21-year olds anymore!

We shopped for club clothes (since I didn't own any) on Saturday, spending the day in PB (Pacific Beach). Afterwards, we spent some time on the beach. The water was chilly, the current was pulling north very strongly, and the waves were breaking very close together, making it difficult to dive under. I swam out, got pulled to the pier and had to walk back. My sister was laying out with a "should I be worried?" look on her face.

We went home, thinking we had plenty of time to get ready but 2 hours flew by. All glammed up, we went out to dinner, where we hooked up with a bunch of friends. We ate at Su Casa, this really neat Mexican joint in La Jolla where the margaritas are strong and they make the guacomole from scratch at your table. We had a great dinner, although none of us could finish our dinners. Could it be the enormous portion sizes or the excitement buzzing in the air? After a quick fix-up in the bathroom and comparing our slutty club tops (I wore dark skinny jeans, little black pumps, and a black glitter backless top that actually "buckled" on--in full costume), we all headed downtown.

Since I have absolutely 0 alcohol tolerance, I got a buzz almost instantly from about 1/3 of the maragarita. Woo hoo! Cheap date! Afterwards, we headed down to the Gaslamp, one of the San Diego hotspots for nightlife. My friend got us all into On Broadway http://www.obec.tv/ for free (one of the big, upscale dance clubs in the Gaslamp). Sweet! Since we got there pretty early (about 9:30), we got a nice little tour of the club--it used to be a bank so it's an enormous venue--5 dance floors complete with different DJ's, bars, sushi bar and restaurant. The club started filling up around 10:30 pm, and pretty soon it was packed. The DJs started mixing their stuff, and when the go-go dancers came out on their little table-top stages aroudn 11:00, everything was going full swing. It was fun to stay the whole night and get different points of views.

My friends liked the 80s dance floor a lot. The Latin dance floor in The Vault with all the Regaton music was pretty cool, although I don't know how to dance all that well so I felt pretty sheepish doing my "bump 'n grind" in there. Personally, I enjoyed the 2 hip-hop floors the best. Reminds me of the good 'ole days in St. Louis. The main floor was the most packed (and entertaining with punker wannabes complete with the pink spiked mohawk), and the DJs there were great--lots of electronica and techno.

I nursed my 2 screwdrivers for the whole night, interspersed with lots of water. With all the pounding and strobe lights (anyone prone to seizures?), I preferred to maintain a nice, steady buzz the whole night and enjoy the dancing. I kept it pretty tame. Sorry to disappoint--my hardcore drunken animal days were used up in college (UW-Madison). My 21-year old sister, on the other hand, still in college (UC-Davis) took the opposite approach and got pretty hammered. However, all of us had a blast.

About half-an-hour before the club closed, we rounded everyone up and Jason, our trusty DD, drove everyone home. That's how we roll. By the time I actually turned out the lights, the clock read 3:30 am. Phew! Sunday morning, it was actually refreshing to sleep in with Jason and skip my early morning run. I can't remember the last time I did that! Hey! It's my recovery week, afterall. Plus, after all the dancing I did, that has to count for something! (Apparently, a 130 lb female burns about 270 calories/hour on http://www.caloriesperhour.com/ ).

We woke up and went to breakfast around 9ish. Yes, sleeping in 'til 8:30 is sleeping in. Erin continued sleeping. We had tentatively planned on a trip to the Wild Animal Park but seeing as we were all a bit exhausted (and some of us, ahem, a bit hung over), we decided to take it easy instead. Napping on Sunday afternoon while Jason and Erin watched football turned out to be a much better option. She was like, "I raged too hard last night."

That evening, we grilled hamburgers by the apartment pool and took a post-dinner soak in the hot tub. Nice. I can't believe how sore my ass is from dancing! I feel like I did 100 squats. Oh, wait. I guess I did.

Fall in San Diego

Feeling better...2 days of bed rest, lots of tea and Zicam seem to have done the trick. I'm now in the "draining" phase. Went for a little run and did weights last night. Had a terrific masters swim this morning (swam 2950 meters!). Looks like I'll be able to salvage the week. Plus, my sis is here, and I'm ready take her out and paint the town red!

Fall is officially here in San Diego. No, we may not get the beautiful fall leaves like the rest of the country but, since I grew up in NorCal, I'm used to the lack of seasons so I don't mind. Who can complain about extra sunshine? However, I can tell it's fall:
1. It's getting dark earlier.
2. The heat and humidity have broken. (Yipee! This is why I was feeling so sick about a month ago--not recovering well from the heat.)
3. The water temp in the ocean has dropped from a steamy 73 to a chilling 63 with 58-degree cold spots--omens of winter.
4. The weather reports keep predicting rain, which we never see--but the fact that there COULD be--that's the point.
5. Football season has started.
6. Season premieres are beginning.
7. The kids are back in school.
8. The tourists have left, and the beaches are empty again (yea!).
9. The leopard sharks are breeding.
10. The honeybees are dying.

Feels like fall to me. I don't need anything more.

Sick Again?!

I don't know how this always happens to me but I'm sick again. Woke up Tuesday morning with a sore throat and have been in bed, sleeping ever since (except to wake up to drink fluids and take Zicam). I had been feeling great! WTF?

@#*#&^!

Maybe it was the 60 mile bike ride on Saturday. Or the 12 mile run on Sunday? How about the 1 mile ocean swim in 63-degree water (with 58-degree cold spots) sans wetsuit (yes, last bikini swim of the season--too cold!)? The guy who sneezed in my hair at the BBQ on Saturday? BINGO! Argh! I realize it was an accident but didn't he know I'm borderline overtrained and therefore immunosuppressed and can't fight off his virus-laden boogers? I'm feeling murderous!

All I know--I felt great this weekend. Went to Yoga class Sunday evening--went home and slept like a baby. Felt okay Monday too--even had a massage. Aren't I pampered? After that, I started feeling not so great. Woke up Tuesday--BAM!

I'm hoping--okay, even praying--that one more day of bed rest is all I need. I will wake up tomorrow feeling right as rain. My little sister is coming for her annual visit tomorrow! First time I've seen her since she turned 21. And we have a big dance party night planned Saturday night! Ya' know, important stuff!

Thank God it's a recovery week, at least...

2 Left Shoes...what to do?

I have a ton to talk about from the weekend but to avoid an epic-long post (yes, even longer than usual), I am breaking it up so you guys don't have to suffer as much.

Friday, Jason met me for a run. Yes, you heard me right. He's been feeling much better and recovering well. This is the 2nd run he's joined me on. It was low tide, and I work 1/4 of a mile from the Glider Port (hangliders), which has a really neat trail down the cliff (we call it the "Goat Trail" b/c you basically have to be a mountain goat to get down and up) and onto Black's Beach.

Black's is known for being a nudist beach in San Diego. It's secluded and obscured from view by many eroding cliffs. It's difficult to access so it's very private, making it perfect for, well, nudity. It's not as exciting as you think. Mostly, a bunch of out-of-shape men going through a mid-life crisis hang out there sans clothing. I'm always amazed at how much they do w/o clothes--volleyball, running, hiking, surfing, etc. However, I love running there because it's a great beach, and it's always pretty deserted (the nudists help with that too--I think).

I was pretty excited about our run. A nice Friday evening sunset beach run with Jason. What could be better? As I changed in the bathroom, I noticed my shoes felt really weird. Like I was putting them on the wrong feet. But even when I switched, they still felt like that. I took a closer look. Turns out, I had pulled 2 left shoes from my closet. That certainly wasn't going to work. What do do, what to do. Relentlessly, I refused to give up. It's a beach run, right? I decided to go Black's Beach style. Well, feet-wise at least. I went with naked feet--barefoot that is.

Traversing the goat trail was difficult but once I reached the sand, it felt great. I ran where the water skimmed the sand. It was firm yet soft. When a wave lazily lolled around my feet, I practiced high knees, splashing through the water. It was fabulous fun. Plus, I felt so free and light. I feel like I run so fast without shoes! Since I've been running barefoot more and more on the beach for short runs, it's been hurting my calves less and less. I can't wait to do it again!

Afterwards, we slowly climbed the goat trail, pausing at the top to watch the sun sink into the sea. A beautiful finish.

Brilliant Torrey Pines Run

Had a crap swim this morning. Must be b/c of my stellar swim on Tuesday. I think I'm just too sore from weights. I've definitely been spending too much time playing and not enough working! Very excited about the upcoming weekend. Lots of fun biking, running, and swimming planned. Next week is a recovery week! Yipee!

I lifted weights yesterday morning even though I was sore from surfing (and have a nice purple bruise on my hip to show for it--goody). It felt so good to just do weights without anything else. I'm super sore this morning! How do people do it? Lift while training? I hate lacking the core, gluteal, and upper body strength I get from weight training but I feel like I can't recover. Any secrets? Anyway, I will only manage to get 1 weight session in this week. I was going to lift again this evening but I'm sore from yesterday and need to rest up for my mega-weekend.

Yesterday afternoon, I snuck in a 5-mile run. I hit Torrey Pines and ran my favorite 1-mile loop trail. I felt good the second my feet hit the road. Ever have runs like this? My feet felt like springs. All my worries lifted away. My mind was clear of thoughts, and it was like being rocked to sleep by the rhythm of my feet. Total meditation while running.

I got excited when I hit the trail at the 2-mile mark because it offers specatacular views of the ocean. I gasped when I saw the water. Yes, it still amazes me and fills me with awe. The sun was hitting it, causing yellow and gold flickers of light to dance and sparkle on top of the blazing blue water. The tide was extremely low, and the froth from the waves lazily churned far from the beach as if someone were sucking the water away with a straw. I stoped and gaped for a brief moment. I was filled with excitement. "I can't believe I get to live here!" I thought. I think it's great I still think that. Sorrowful is the day that I take this place for granted.

I started the uphill trek back towards lab. Surprisingly, I was able to find a rhythm up the steep grade and maintain for the short stint up. Recovering at the top, I found my cruise control and easily turned my brain off again.

A half mile down the path, I heard footsteps. A minute later, a guy in an orange shirt passed me. No! Why do I get so competitive. I picked up the pace. A loud voice in my head yelled, "Let him go!" Controlling myself, I settled back down to my cruise pace.

Another quarter mile up the road, I realized I was gaining on him. He had slowed down. I had a chance. I began accelerating. I couldn't stop myself. It felt so good. We passed people at a bus stop as they gazed curiously at us--orange shirt guy blissfully unaware and me striding closely behind with my serious, intense, "it's on" face. The prey was in my sight, and I was a lionness, moving in for the kill. Seconds later, I passed him and finished out the final 100 meters with a good sprint, turning back down the street to lab, dripping with sweat. A minute later, he passed by my office. Turns out--orange-shirt runner guy works next door to me! How embarrassing! He probably thinks I'm some crazy girl! I feel kind of guilty for letting my competitive side come through but on the other hand, I had a great run, and it felt wonderful.

Aftewards, I went to our club meeting and saw Normann Stadler speak. Pretty cool. Looking forward to a nice, relaxing beach run tonight at low tide. Except for the yucky naked guys on Black's Beach--not so much.

Tri Girl goes Surfing--Amateur Style

My friend left the country and was selling his barely used, 7'4" surfboard for $100. I live in San Diego and love the ocean. The purchase was a no-brainer.

I have no idea when I'm going to learn to surf. I bought the board and set it on the balcony for my "off-season cross-training" sport. Whenver that is. I have been so sore and tired lately, I couldn't even think about another sport. Afterall, poor Rocky (mountain bike) has been neglected in the 2nd bathroom for months.

A friend from work informed me Monday that we were going surfing on Wednesday. I weakly protested. I don't know how. I need lessons. I'm too busy. I'm too tired. But he asked, "You just got this new surfboard. Aren't you itching to get out there and try it? Or are you just going to let it sit on your balcony all winter?" He had a point. Deep down, I felt the itch. And I agreed. This was all happening way too fast for me! I needed time for this new relationship (with the surfboard) to develop! Can't we just slow down a little?

Wednesday afternoon, he points out I need a rashguard to prevent chafing. WTF? This is becoming complicated! We headed down to La Jolla Shores, and I stopped at a surf shop to pick one up. The guy at the store pointed out that the water temp was dropping fast, and they had a sale on wetsuits. Sigh. He had a point. I tried some on. The one that fit was $100. Again, a no-brainer. By the time I parked, I had a rashguard, a surfboard and a surfing wetsuit--and I hadn't even gotten in the water!

Having been warned about the precipitously dropping water temps, I dipped a toe in, expecting to run for my wetsuit. Surprisingly, it wasn't bad. We took our boards out and stayed in the baby waves. Luckily, my friend is a lousy surfer so I didn't feel totally intimidated.

It was an extreme low tide, the water was rough, and the waves were not breaking well. I had a really hard time getting the board over the waves, I couldn't stand up worth a damn, I swallowed a ton of water, and I wiped out a bunch of times. It didn't matter. It was wicked fun! What can I say? I'm a California girl. You can't keep me out of the ocean. I take a lickin', and I come back for more. I can't wait to go and try it again!

As we were heading back, we both noticed that we were stepping on slimy, squishy, moving things with every step. I religiously starting practicing the stingray shuffle but it didn't seem to help. Well, I kept stepping on squishy things anyhow. Everytime I did, I let out a squeal and tried to climb on my board. I really hate stepping on things I can't see! I figured they were some sort of fish. If they had been sting rays, I would have been stung by now, right? Afterall, I had stepped on 20 of them! My friend yelled, "Ouch. One bit me!" Seconds later, we realized it was a sting ray that had stung him, and all the squishy, slimy things were sting rays. The beach was covered with them. And they were frisky. Jason later called me the "sting ray whisperer" since I stepped on so many and didn't get stung. They're not aggressive. I think if you glance the side of them or shuffle into them, they just swim off (hence, the sting ray shuffle does work). However, if you step directly on one and pin it, Bam!

My friend hobbled over to the lifeguard station where 8 other victims were all sitting with their feet in buckets of scalding hot water, exchanging horror stories. It was actually pretty entertaining for me. Not so much for my friend. Luckily, he didn't get hit that badly since he's walking limp-free today. He's going to live.

Afterwards, I gorged myself with food and went to bed. Must have been the cold water but I couldn't believe how starving and exhausted I was. I slept like a baby. I have many strange bruises today from where I wiped out, I guess. Plus, I'm totally trashed! It was hard doing weights this morning. I can't believe how sore my biceps, chest and triceps are. Surfing is a really good workout! Can't wait to take the board out again. Now he/she just needs a name. Girl or boy? Suggestions?

A flip was switched.

Week 3 of Base 2 (confusing, eh?) is underway, and I feel good. I took Monday off and had a massage so good, I nearly fell asleep. I felt very disoriented afterwards and had to go to the grocery hair with my face all red and puffy and hair tousled. Hmmm. Need a cigarette?

I slept like a log on Monday night and was able to get up for my swim class on Tuesday. I hate when I sleep in and miss! I felt like crap and told Sickie the swim coach just that. 20 minutes in, something clicked. A flip was switched. I mean, a switch was flipped. Damn spoonerisms! Keep happening to me lately. Must be fatigue.

I'm not sure what happened but I may have changed my body position slightly. I think I moved my head up a little (I normally keep it too low so we've been working on bringing my head up and my legs down a little--backwards, huh?), and it was like, "Engage!" All of a sudden my core could bridge the power from my upper body to my lower body, and I was gliding through the water. I felt like I had moved higher in the water and was skimming the surface, almost as if I had been on a paddle board. I could use more of my back and lat muscles rather than just my arms, recruiting larger muscle groups. Everything was connected. I had been sore and groggy at the start, and I suddenly felt fresh and my soreness was completely gone. It felt fantastic. Plus, once I reached the "zone", I was able to maintain that feel of the water the entire time! I love this new feeling! Makes me want to swim more. 2600 meters--effortless. Sickie noticed my change in mood and stroke and asked me if I had some speical "juice" in my water bottle. Ha! I felt great the rest of the day. Amazing how a good swim in the morning sets the mood for the rest of the day.

Here's the workout I did:
http://swimtri.blogspot.com/2007/09/solid-300s.html

Tuesday afternoon, I slipped into my bike clothes and grabbed Bluebell from the truck. The sun is setting earlier now, making these afternoon rides more of a "tempo" run to try and beat the sunset. I headed north on the coast from Torrey Pines.

I had planned on doing a recovery ride since I didn't feel so hot. However, about 10 minutes in, I felt a surge. I've been feeling a new sensation at the bottom of my pedal stroke recently--I think it's called--power? Anyway, it feels damn good. I got into the drops and focused on this new push I can get at the bottom of the stroke. I've always heard about trying to get that feeling like you're scraping mud off your shoes but it's one thing to hear it and quite another to suddenly feel it and integrate that feeling internally.

I could see the sun lowering in the horizon, bit by bit, like the sand emptying out of an hourglass. Surfers dotted the coastline, waiting for the perfect wave, like dozens of little seals, bobbing up and down. I turned around at Swami's at the 10-mile mark. I was elated that I would be able to get in an even 20. I had gone further than I planned but it felt good.

An old bat honked at me and almost clipped me as I soft-pedaled south in the bike line. WTF? I remained calm and ignored her. What is with drivers lately? Such malice! On our weekend rides, we've been heckled and yelled at and even had objects thrown at us. Last weekend, 2 vehicles at independent times threw objects at riders in our group while we passively struggled and toiled up the Scripps Poway Parkway grade. If they had hit one of us, it would most certainly have caused a nasty spill. This is beyond road rage. This is assault. I wish we had gotten the license plates but we were trying to avoid being hit instead. Anyway, be careful out there, guys, and ride defensively.

I coasted into the Torrey Pines Park 5 minutes before the gate closed. Yes! I love biking up the inside. It's steeper but there's no traffic and the views of the ocean are spectacular. Using Bluebell's new 27, I zipped up the grade. Another cyclist going down the grade almost collided with me as we were both enchanted by the setting sun and not paying attention to where we were going. We avoided a crash at the last moment and exchanged knowing smiles. At the top, I stopped by a woman watching the sunset. I had reached the top just in time. We both watched it sink into the horizon. It was spectacular and marked the end of a perfect ride.

Side Note on My Bike Drama:
Bluebell has recently forgiven me for bringing Torch into our relationship. At first, she kept getting flats and even jinxed Torch, slashing his tire on a ride. That was the low point. Soon after that, I upgraded her rear casette to a 27 and officially made her my "climbing" bike. I think that improved her mood a bit because she realized she had a purpose and could do something better than Torch. So we've patched things up. Anyway, I still love riding her! She fits me so well, and I've noticed I'm a little more upright than on the TT bike so it can be a little more comfy.

Random Note:
I can't believe it but I am out of CarboPro! When I bought that tub of powder, I thought I would have it forever. Apparently, it takes 6 months to consume it. Thought I'd share.

Weekend Update--Amazing Recovery

After my last very depressing post, I am happy to report that I am feeling much better. I had a rockin' weekend so I seem to have worked out of my rut. I took an extra off day on Friday and was able to literally soar through the weekend. Here's my weekend update:

Saturday:
60 mile training ride with hills--
Rachel Ride #4

This was the 4th ride I've hosted, and it was a blast. I prepared the map and route slip, which ended up being more complicated than I wanted with lots of turns to find the most scenic route. I was actually very nervous--had a hard time sleeping the night before--worried about bonking on my own ride or getting us lost or everyone having a miserable time and blaming me. I studied the map over and over again until I had it memorized.

We started from my apartment. Nice. All I had to do to show up was roll out of bed. One of the many perks of being ride director. A fantastic group of 15 riders showed up--all abilities--but all out for a good ride with good company. Sweeet. We headed out through Sorrento Valley, Rancho Penasquitos and then twisted around Lake Miramar and Scripps Ranch. Rolling hills, morning cloud cover, not too hot, not too cold. Just right. I really had to break out the leadership skills since no one was familiar with the ride, and the group was reluctant to break out the maps I had provided. My memorization skills were put to the test (I admit, I didn't really know where we were going either).

At mile 18, we began climbing up the grade at Scripps Poway Parkway. And climbing. And climbing. The rollers we had dealt with before seemed insignificant. Some of the stronger riders in our group new to the route saw the "mountain" in the distance, and their faces widened. "We're climbing that? Nice!"

Another rider asked, "Did you plan this climb?" I had, actually, but it had snuck up on me. I somehow had thought it was coming later and was devastated thinking this was an extra climb. As I was going up, I couldn't think straight. I didn't know what was going on. So my feeble reply was, "I don't know." What was worse--I didn't seem to remember the hill even though I had climbed it before so it took me by surprise and left me unprepared mentally. I began to get a little unraveled, thinking--"what if it gets even worse after this, and I can't do it?" I started just focusing on the climb I was doing at the moment instead of worrying what was up ahead. I just tried to focus on pedaling at my 6 mph pace in my lowest gear with sweat dripping off my face, my lungs and legs burning. Good suffering. I passed another suffering cyclist on the way up, and he said, "I'm a surfer, not a cyclist." My sardonic reply was, "Oh, yeah. This is much better than being out in the ocean, enjoying the cool waves." He laughed.

Finally, I recognized where I was and felt relief--at the top of the climb (mile 25)--after 1600 feet. I soared down the hill, ecstatic that I had made it, and we regrouped at the bottom. One rider said, "Now I know what the "M." in front of your name stands for--Masochistic!" That's right, folks--it's Masochistic Rachel to you.

After a short stint on Hwy 67, we turned west to go down the steep grade on Poway Rd. It was a bit dangerous since it was so windy and had no shoulder but it felt SO good to go downhill. I zipped and spiraled downwards, riding my rear brakes to slow to 38 mph. Tight. Torch's rear brakes had been squealing (apparently, the back was hitting the rim first so my options were a) wear them in or b) adjust them). At the bottom of Poway, I realized my brakes no longer squeaked. Problem solved!

As we weaved our way through Poway on Espola Rd and then Twin Peaks Rd, we had some very interesting conversations. That's the great thing about long group bike rides. You're out there for a Looong time. You have to keep yourself entertained. The subject of Normann Stadler came up. What a spectacular athlete he is, how he's in San Diego, how he's coming to all the (tri club) functions lately (he's the guest speaker at our club meeting this week!), how he won't swim in the ocean because he's afraid, etc., etc. I mentioned that I hadn't realized how cute he was until I had seen him at the Club Aquathlon but that I didn't care for his personality too much. I further mentioned that some duct tape and a pair of handcuffs might take care of that problem. Oops. I may have gone a little far on that one. Later, someone mentioned how you can use Vaseline on wetsuit-illegal cold swims as an extra layer for warmth (another fantastic use for Vaseline--there are so many). Someone else mentioned that the Vaseline might be a nice addition to the handcuffs and duct tape kit. It was a very fun ride.

After a brief rest stop at mile 33.5 (yes, 0.5), we headed out again, and I started to feel really good. A nice breeze was keeping me cool, and I had refilled my bottles and eaten 1/4 of a Twix. I am loving the Twix at the halfway points! Sometimes, it's hard to get the calories down and comfort food just hits the spot. I'm going to get a jersey that reads, "Powered by Twix" on the back.

At mile 40, one rider got a flat. The group stopped and we all assisted. By this point, we had decided to stay together as a group, which was really cool. Another rider got a flat at the same time. Both riders were riding the same exact bike. Weird!!! After we got going again, I felt sluggish and stiff. I had cooled off, and my body thought we were done. It took about 20 minutes to find a good rhythm again.

After we turned on the 56 bike path, my confidence was soaring. I knew where we were, I knew where the hills and turns were, and I hadn't lost anyone or gotten anyone lost. Bonus! Mile 47--a 3rd rider got a flat. WTF? Some rides are just like that. He told us to go on without him but I didn't want to leave him alone. I wouldn't have wanted to be left alone. I told everyone else how to get back and told them to ride ahead (the ride was beginning to take an eternity). The rest of the group refused, and we all stuck together. The camaraderie was just amazing.

We hit the coast (mile 50) and the sight of the Pacific was a sweet reward. The water was a brilliant turquoise blue and a cool ocean breeze revived me. We merged with other riders doing a century ride from Riverside as they struggled up the Torrey Pines hill. All of a sudden, mile 55, I felt a surge. This was my hill. My territory. I ride this hill on every ride, and I know it like the back of my hand. I normally just cruise up at 6-8 mph. Today was different. Even though it had been the longest ride ever, and I was tired, I could sense I was close to home. It was the horse smelling the hay back in the stable. I took off. The lead riders in our group were taken by surprise and stayed with me, encouraging me, "You are really moving!" It felt so good. We maintained a 10-11 mph speed, zipping by about 50 tired century riders the whole 1-1.5 miles up Torrey Pines. At the crest, I let out a huge sigh of relief. 3 miles from home--all downhill. I sat back and cruised.

Lesson Learned:
Several of us went for a late brunch afterwards--tired, exhausted, sore, hungry, and completely satisfied. Organizing group rides may take some work and be somewhat stressful at times, but the rewards are well worth it. There is nothing like good company and conversation when you're out there on the roads with a celebratory meal afterwards. It is awesome making new friends and meeting new training partners.

Sunday 9/9 (10 mile training run and La Jolla Rough Water Swim):

Still extremely tired from the epic Saturday ride, I dragged myself out of bed at 5:30 am. I didn't want to run. No way. However, my running group had specifically planned the run to start and end at La Jolla Cove so that I would be able to do the 1 mile Rough Water Swim afterwards. I couldn't just bail. Neither could I skip the swim if that was the reason why we were starting from there. Mentally, I told myself to just show up. If I wanted to walk or cut the run short, I could.

Arriving at the cove at 7:00 am, I got rock star parking on Prospect. We headed south through Wind and Sea and Bird Rock, winding through the gorgeous neighborhoods by the coast. It was a new run for all of us, and I had mapped it out beforehand. I was the run host for the week. Boy! All the pressure! We reached the boardwalk at PB and ran to the Crystal Pier at the 5-mile point. Then, we turned around and headed back. I actually felt better on the way back than the way out. I surged from mile 5-7, mistakenly thinking I could hold a sub-9 min pace for 5 miles. I simply didn't have it in the tank. After mile 7, I returned to my slow base pace and finished the run. It was a good, solid effort. I had finished and still felt good.

Some of my running buddies stayed with me for a quick breakfast at a cafe up the street. I checked in at the Cove and the adrenaline began to surge. I was just doing the mile swim for a fun workout. With absolutely no taper, I had no expectations. However, I had never done a swim event before, and I am a slow swimmer. I had looked at the times from the previous year and knew I would be coming in at the very bottom of the pack. "That's okay,"
I told myself. "It will be a good experience."

Despite trying to talk myself down, I was extremely nervous. I couldn't eat anything, and I had to run to the bathroom several times. "What am I so nervous about?" I knew there was no rational reason. I swim the cove all the time. I know it well. It was just all the race energy--the people, the loudspeakers, the hustle and bustle--it was rubbing off on me and getting me all worked up. As I stood in line to register in my sweaty running clothes, I could feel everyone else's eyes burning holes in the back of my head. I felt completely out of place.

Finding a quiet spot on the lawn, I stretched and practiced deep breathing exercises. A large group from the tri club showed up and set up a tent. I hung out with them but it only seemed to increase my nervousness. Most of them were doing the 3 mile Gatorman swim after my wave went for the 1 mile Rough Water Swim. I felt small and insignificant. What was I even doing here? I felt out of place. "I don't belong here," I told myself. I was introduced to another woman doing the Rough Water Swim and was immediately intimidated. She swims an 18-minute mile and is currently training for the English Channel Open water swim (a 22 mile swim in 50 degree water--no wetsuits allowed). Sheepishly, I told her my mile time would be about 40 minutes. Unfazed, she tried valiantly to talk me up. She treated me like a little sister and gave me a ton of pointers.

We previewed the course, and I began to freak out. There were only 2 buoys. I was expecting buoys every 50 meters like I'm used to for triathlons. I had examined the course on-line. We swam northeast towards the Shores, turned west for 450 meters, and then back to the mouth of the cove in a large triangle. However, staring at the first buoy, waaaay off in the distance, I got a little unhinged. First of all, it was beyond the 1/2 mile buoy that I normally swim for the turn-around, meaning that if we were to swim another 450 meters west, that would be over 1 mile. I was not mentally prepared. My impromptu big sister/swim coach agreed that it was more like 2000 meters. Of course, she was happy with the distance; I was unable to share her joy. She was also hoping for a lot of chop; I was definitely NOT. Plus, the water temp had dropped and was hovering around 69 degrees. No wetsuits allowed! She told me to expect a current pulling me towards the Shores on the way out, to expect significant chop after turning west, and then if I hit the 2nd buoy wide, I could find a current to pull me in, if I angled just right. I was skeptical since I had always fought the current coming in but she told me it was because I was swimming too far to the inside (east). "I'll be lucky if I can just finish the damn thing, let alone have a strategy," I thought to myself.

Okay. Well, 2000 meters is perfect training for a half-ironman, I told myself. I can swim that, no problem. I'm just worried because it was not what I expected. I had a different picture in my head. Once I realized this, I swallowed, took a deep breath and resolved to do the course with the 2 buoys the 1+ mile, chop, cold water, no wetsuit, seaweed and all.

We lined up on the beach to start. I seeded myself towards the back. All of a sudden, I relaxed. I was ready. In familiar territory. It was just like the start of a triathlon. The gun went off and everyone ran into the water. I found a mellow place in the back and settled into my stroke. With so many other people in the water, I felt very comfortable in the draft for the first 600 meters or so. After that, I got pulled too far east by the current and found myself swimming alone. Damn! I kept having to angle myself west. Finally, I reached the first buoy at 800 meters and turned 90 degrees west. A freezing cold patch of water (about 58 degrees) hit me, and I gasped, pulling my head out of the water. "Just a cold spot," I thought. I fought my way through. Just like Heather had foreseen, there was significant swells and chops. I felt like I was swimming uphill. I was bobbing up and down a lot. Every time I would drop, my stomach would lurch. I swallowed a bit of salt water, and my stomach complained. Luckily, I had taken a pre-emptive Pepcid to buffer my stomach beforehand. I focused on the tree line to my east, and my stomach steadied.

I continued fighting my way through. I was still too far to the outside. I could see the waves behind my zipping ahead of me on the inside line. I was alone. The negative thoughts began to build. "What am I doing here? I don't belong. I suck at this. I am so slow. I'm such a loser. I should just quit now. Give up. I should quit triathlon altogether." I don't know if it was the extreme absurdity of the statements or the fact that giving up altogether would mean drowning but all of a sudden, a much louder, stronger voice in my head took over, "What are you doing? Now is not the time. We can deal with this later. Now! Swim!" Because I hadn't argued with the negative thoughts but told myself I could think about them later, it was like a switch had been flipped. I had completely disarmed the negativity. I began counting strokes and focusing on my form. I began to just swim. And I found my rhythm.

Finally, I hit the 2nd buoy and turned 90 degrees again, heading south towards the mouth of the cove. Final stretch. Because I had accidentally swam the entire distance wide, I had positioned myself perfectly, like Heather had advised. Normally, being out so far west by myself with everyone else in the race so far down to my east would have been really unnerving. Luckily, she had prepared me. I knew they would be fighting the current I normally fight. Let's see. If I angle myself slightly southeast like this...Bingo! I found the current! Suddenly I was being pulled forward. I was gliding through the water. I felt slippery. It was effortless. I had a rhythm, and I was moving. Not only that, but I could see that I was making up time and gaining on the other swimmers fighting the current.

Elated, I hit the beach and ran across the timing mat. 39:13. 1 minute off my mile swim, and considering I had swam even farther, this was quite good for me. I was satisfied. Spent the rest of the day eating, drinking and relaxing on the grass by the cove, enjoying the beautiful weather.

Hope everyone had a brilliant weekend. Time for my massage.

For want of a shoe...

You've heard this one, right?

"For want of a nail a shoe was lost / For want of a shoe a horse was lost / For want of a horse a rider was lost / For want of a rider a battle was lost / For want of a battle a kingdom was lost / ... and all for the want of a horseshoe nail."

That's how today has gone. I woke up late this morning and missed (yet another) swim class. For want of a shoe...the battle was lost. For want of a swim...the day was lost. Upon waking and realizing what had occurred, I decided the whole day was ruined.

Ever have one of these? Do you ever wake up and just feel emotionally depressed for no good reason? You hate your life, yourself, the world. No? Never? Okay, me neither.

What makes it worse is that you know you're bad mood is completely unwarranted, making you even more helpless to alter it. All efforts are futile. The only thing helping me through it is knowing it's just one of those days and like all other things, this too will come to pass.

Poor Jason. I didn't want to go to work; I didn't want to stay home. After draining myself of tears, he finally coaxed me out of bed. I proceeded to change litterboxes and vacuum, which made me feel better. Cleaning always does. So does Taz (aka Tazzer schmazzer mookie bear). Sensing my foul mood, he was extra cuddly this morning, bless his little soul.

(Cute 'n cuddly Taz. One of the few things in this world that can always cheer me up.)

This whole week has been a wash. It was supposed to be week 2, Base 2 of training. The whole week, I felt sick--sore throat, headache, stomach ache, fatigue. I kept hearing the drill sargeant in my head yelling, "This is NOT a recovery week! Let's GO!" But I just couldn't. I had nothing in the tank.

Monday was an intended recovery day but 4 hours of swallowing salt water in the ocean really did me in. I took Tuesday off, exhausted. Wednesday, I took the morning off and began to feel panicky. In a rush to "catch up", I did a brick that evening and after a bike (hill repeats) and 4 mile run, gave up trying to do weights because I had exhausted myself again. Thursday morning I slept in again. It seems my sleep requirements this week have jumped from 8-9 to 10-11. WTF? Thursday evening, I had a very nice 6 mile recovery run with a friend, which made me feel much better but I was still beating myself up over missed workouts (I know, I know. Spilt milk). However, when I got home, the sore throat and headache had returned.

This morning, I was supposed to attend my masters swim workout in the am. This was going to fix everything. Make the whole week okay. Passable. So when I slept in again, I woke up feeling that the whole day, whole week, was ruined and that I was a failure. I realize these thoughts are irrational. But it's a constant internal battle within myself.

I've read enough triathlon articles and books to know that I shouldn't be a slave to my training plan. I know I've been putting lots of solid time in and have plenty of time left before my taper. So I should know I can relax and pull back and pace myself a little, right? You'd think. What I know and what I feel are at odds with each other. Miss Know is trying to reason with Miss Feel. It's taking awhile.

I've resolved to take today off (from workouts). I know I'm overtrained and need rest. In addition, I have a mega-killer-annihilation weekend tomorrow and Sunday. I need all the rest I can get. I'm going to try and enjoy my day off guilt-free and try to recharge. I'm looking forward to my massage this evening. I'm just going to try and move forward.

Just to recap, let's look at some of the symptoms of overtraining (again):

1. Persistant fatigue (check, check.)

2. Susceptibility to infection (hmmm. sore throat, stomach ache. check.)

3. Persistant muscle soreness (you mean, my muscles aren't supposed to always be sore? check.)

4. Insomnia (check.)

5. Irritability and moodiness (triple check.)

6. Depression (check.)

7. Lack of motivation (half a check.)

8. Increased susceptibility to injury (not yet, thankfully.)

9. Decreased appetite (check, check.)

10. Decreased sexual performance (okay, let's not go there. Let's keep this PG-13, folks).

11. Headaches (triple check.)

12. Elevated resting pulse and/or inability to raise pulse during workouts (sometimes--half a check.)

Well, sounds like we have a diagnosis.

Here are some links about overtraining for all those other Type A triathletes out there:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Overtraining

http://exercise.about.com/cs/exercisehealth/a/toomuchexercise.htm

http://www.trifuel.com/triathlon/triathlon-training/overtraining-syndrome-000134.php

http://www.beginnertriathlete.com/cms/article-detail.asp?articleid=508

http://www.slowtwitch.com/mainheadings/coachcorn/overtraining.html

War Wounds

The Aftermath:

Luckily, Thomas had his camera handy to assess the damage.

My boo boo after falling on the run. Still raw.

My knee 48 hours later (Monday) with a very pretty bruise.

Remember the blood blister from the Aquathlon last week? It really ripened over the weekend.

Thanks for the pics, Thomas!

What I Did During My Recovery Week

Labor Day Weekend

What a weekend. Had an epic ride and brick run on Saturday and really tough long run on Sunday.

Long Ride:
Saturday, we met for the new "Rachel Ride" in Del Mar for 50 miles up the coast into Camp Pendleton and back. I was worried there wouldn't be a big turnout. Only a handful of people had e-mailed me, and there were a gazillion other rides taking place at the same time. I was ecstatic when I rode down the hill to meet about 15 other riders at 7:20! This has been a great way to meet new training partners. In addition, it has been fun to train with good friends, such as Thomas. One guy asked me how long I'd been riding with this group as we rolled out. It was cute. Some people have told me they come to my ride because of the low key, laid back atmosphere, which is exactly why I started it in the first place. This has been a very rewarding experience so far. Team name and jerseys next? Who knows? Candidates? Maybe--the Tortoise Riders ("we get it done") with a shell pattern on the jersey. The Bonks? Donut riders--we ride for food. Okay, okay, I'm getting ahead of myself here. Anyway, I'm glad the ride is being well received.

We rolled out, and I hung back, taking it easy. It was hot, damn-hot. I know, I know, it's SoCal, and I'm complaining about 85 degree weather with a little humidity. Wah-wah. What can I say? Living here has made me weak. Sigh. Anyway, I felt good. For the first time, I could hang with the group. The pace was definitely aerobic for me. I think it was partly because a) the ride was flat, b) I had brought Torch, and c) I had rested appropriately for the ride.

We headed into the base, and they scrutinized our id's before letting us enter. Experienced riders in our group warned us to follow all the rules of the road and ride single file so as not to get stopped by an MP. Secretly, I wanted to get stopped by a Marine (and maybe punished?). Okay, admittedly, maybe not so secretly because I told the whole group this fantasy. At the turn-around, we stopped at a market (with air-conditioning--aaaaaah), and I used the toilet and ate half a Twix bar, much to the shock of the rest of the group. Hee hee. The heat had been bothering my appetite a little, and I wasn't getting down the calories I wanted. Hence, the quick calories in the form of a Twix at the rest stop. And you know what? It did the trick.

Out of the base, the cool breeze from the coast revived me. Traffic had picked up considerably as tourists fought their way in droves to the beach. Riding south alongside the Oceanside boardwalk, a police SUV warned us through his speaker to "Ride single file. Single file." Yes, sir! (Was the cop going to get out and punish me? Ack! Okay, I'll stop. What is wrong with me?). One of our riders out front didn't see the cop and rolled right through a stop sign. He promptly got pulled over. Luckily, the cop just gave him a warning. A bunch of drivers yelled at us, vindicated, as they drove past our group and the cop, "Yeah! Cyclists! Get 'em!" What pricks. As we rolled through Carlsbad and more of the coastal communities, we continuously had to be on guard for crazy drivers, parked cars with carelessly opening doors, lazy pedestrians, and all sorts of other harrowing mishaps and close calls. The traffic this weekend has been unbelievable. Yes, the volume is up but the drivers are impatient and nasty! What is up? I can't wait until after this weekend when the tourists will leave San Diego to the residents until next year.

Calories consumed:
2 water bottles with 2 scoops Carbo Pro each (400 calories)
drank 1.5 bottles so 350 cals, actually
3 Cliff Blocks (180 calories)
1/2 Twix Bar (142 calories)
Total: 672
Total Mileage: 50 mile ride + 2 mile run (~3.5 hr ride +20 min ride so ~4 hrs total exercise)
They recommend about 150-200 calories an hour so I actually did this!!!
Total calories burned (www.caloriesperhour.com --brilliant website): 2261
Recommended to replace 30-40% of calories burned on long workouts, which is 680-900 cals. I think I'm right on target.

Most Brilliant Moment of the Year Award (Brick Run):
After the ride, we changed into our running shoes and headed out for a quickie run. My legs were dead-tired, and my Achilles were still screamingly tight from running barefoot at the Aquathlon on Thursday. This was definitely a get-it-done run. As we headed along the bike path on 101, against traffic, we recognized Darrell from the Tri Club, finishing up with the Saturday Del Mar ride. He held his hand out to give us a high-five as we passed. I held my hand out to meet his. At that moment, a root from a tree, buckling the pavement, came out of nowhere. My right foot tripped over the root, and I stumbled badly. For a moment, I thought I was going to regain my balance as I took 3 large, staggering steps. Then, I knew I couldn't hold it. I was too tired, and it suddenly seemed like falling was the best option. It happened in slow motion. With my hands already out in front, I raised them over my head and spread-eagled, did a face plant, belly flop onto the asphalt. Both arms were still out in front of me, as if I had tried to catch a long pass.

Mortified, Darrell wheeled around and was at my side in seconds. I was already at my feet, humiliated and laughing hysterically. My friend Thomas, whom I'd been running alongside, scolded Darrell, "You have to stop riding with your jersey unzipped. You're a hazard to the ladies!" I assured Darrell I was okay, who asked me 3 or 4 times. Finally, I convinced Darrell to finish his ride, and Thomas and I finished our run.

Afterwards, we examined my "wounds". I was covered in dirt and had a small scrape on my stomach and thigh. My left knee had received the worst of it and was scraped, raw and bleeding (which has since been flowering into a very pretty bruise with lots of splendid colors). However, it was just a surface wound, and I knew it was very minor. Actually, my tummy hurt the most since it had taken the brunt of the force. Considering dumping it on the pavement, I knew it could have been much, much worse. See what great form I had when I fell? I'm sure that's what saved my ass.

Post-workout Recovery:
Thomas and I promptly dove into the ocean at Powerhouse Park to rinse off and cool off. The air was hot and humid but the ocean temp was nice and chilly--about 69 degrees. It felt soooo good. I swear, the ocean has magical healing properties. The waves were big and funnel-like--perfect. The water was gorgeous--clear and a bright teal-aqua. We ducked under the waves and floated just past the breakers for 10 minutes. Then, we body surfed in. We both caught a wicked wave that blasted us all the way in. Sweet! Then, we dripped dry and made our way up for a big breakfast.

Long Run:
Sunday, I dragged myself to our weekly group long run at Mission Bay. We started at 6:20 am. Ugh. It was already in the upper 70s, humid and no cloud cover. My knee was black-and-blue but I had been fighting the swelling with ibuprofen and ice and have enough mobility to run. We started out, and my Achilles screamed out again. I kept it slow and even. After a few miles, I ran the pain right out of my Achilles and began to settle in. We were all dripping. I was drinking but I was very hungry. Even though I ate my usual pre-run breakfast (cereal and banana), I felt like I was starving. And, of course, I had neglected to bring along the Cliff Blocks. I guess I didn't properly replace my glycogen stores from Saturday's long workout. Oh, well. Once we hit the boardwalk between Pacific Beach and Mission Beach, we were enveloped by a refreshing, cool ocean breeze that revitalized us. The tide was even low enough to run back on the beach for a bit. By mile 7, I was dying. Hungry, tired, hot--I had nothing in my tank. I gutted it out the last 3 miles and was happy to get in my 10--even if I was slow as molasses.

Post-workout Recovery:
We had a huge breakfast, which I followed by a nice, long nap. My knee has ballooned up again--guess the long run probably didn't help. I'm continuing to ice it, and I'm confident it will be good as new by Tuesday.

Spent Monday on the beach body-surfing. Wicked waves! I swallowed a ton of water. Not much of a recovery day, huh?

Hope everyone had a fantastic holiday weekend!

Pics!

Autographed visor from Kate Major--curly head included! I need a new hat now. Have to retire this one to preserve the signature.

Pic of blood blister on big toe from running Aquathlon barefoot. I have a matching one on the other toe. Unfortunately, the pic doesn't really do it justice. Babs insisted on getting her pic taken too!

The adoreable Tazzer-schmazzer-mookie bear (Taz), and the eldest of my buns (8 years).

Hummingbird at feeder through the blinds on our balcony.

August Club Aquathlon

(Sunset at the Shores after the race. Thanks Paul for the pic!)

I learned the best way to get over a slump is to go and do a great workout. So after all my whining, I had some extra coffee and a Snickers and headed down to the Shores. I got there around 5:30 and got rock-star parking. Since the Aquathlon didn't start until 6:30, I figured I could get in some extra swim time.

Since my wetsuit is being repaired, and I'm trying to toughen up for winter, I "braved" it without a wetsuit. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem since the water has been in the mid-70s. However, it had dropped yesterday to a chilly 67. I felt the bite on my feet as I slowly submerged myself into the water. Shuffling my feet to avoid sting rays, I dove in. Suddenly, I was no longer cold. I could feel the current pulling gently against me but there were no waves, it was low tide, and the water was calm and glassy. It couldn't have been more perfect.

I looked down and saw swarms of leopard sharks below me in the shallow water. They're brown and black spots glistened in the light. They were so beautiful. Leopard sharks are harmless and they congregate to the Shores every fall for breeding season. Sigh. Another sign that fall is here. I couldn't believe how many they were! They liked the shallow water too. I felt like I was swimming on top of them. As the water deepened a little, the leopard sharks disappeared, and I was surrounded by tiny schools of fish.

(benign leopard sharks; they get pretty big though!)

I swam for about 20 minutes before getting out and chatting with friends. It was so nice to see people! The club is really like a big family. I glanced over and saw a cute, petite woman that looked really familiar. It dawned on me that it was legend, Kate Major. I got all twitterpated but finally drummed up the courage to go over and introduce myself as we were walking over to the start. She was very nice.

I was still chatting (no, me?) when the race started. I hung out in the back, allowing all the speedy people to run out ahead. I followed behind, comfortably finding my spot midst all the thrashing elbows and kicking feet. It was weird but I felt very comfortable in the pack. I had someone to draft off of the whole time. Even though I was working for the 1000 m, there was always someone to draft off of, and we were going with the current.

Got out, glanced at my watch. 17 minutes. Not bad...for me. I did have a current, however. Threw down my cap and goggles and took off barefoot on the sand. I love swimming without a wetsuit and running without shoes but I hardly ever run barefoot. I figured since it was only 3 miles and on sand, I could manage it.

I felt so free and liberated. So light on my feet. Lightning quick. I was having...fun. It dawned on me that this was why I do these things. As I hit the 1.5 mile turn-around, I was feeling quite happy that I had convinced myself to come to the workout.

On the 2nd loop, my feet started complaining. I had figured it would be my arches or calves that would go first. (Although my Achilles are cramping something awful today). No, it was the skin on my big toes. I seriously thought I had gotten a piece of shell lodged in each toe. It felt like I was running on broken glass. I dodged over to the water to try and soothe the burning, searing pain. Then, I tried to block it out. Just focus on form. Since I felt so fast and light (and the run was pretty short), the adrenaline had really kicked in, and I ignored the pain until it was all over.

This morning, however, I could barely walk. I have a pair of nicely-matching blood blisters--like thumb prints--on both big toes. Now, I'm just trying to figure out how to block out the pain for my long run on Sunday. Novacaine shots? Suggestions?

(after the race with Tri Club friend, Elizabeth; Thanks, Paul for the pic!)

After the race, we noshed on really good food the Club always provides, and I chatted with friends. I saw other San Diego tri bloggers, James and Paul, which was really cool. Finally got to talk to James at a standstill, as opposed to when he's blasting by in a race. That was a first. We all watched the sunset. It was very nice.

(Kate winning IM-AZ).

The absolute highlight, however, was chatting to Kate Major. I got up the nerve to ask her to autograph my visor. She did...and even added her signature "curly head"!

(Kate's signature logo--the curly head)

Then, we started talking about triathlon. She was so open and friendly and humble. A true role model in my eyes. I asked her about Ironman Japan--during which she had gotten sick from the water and ended up doing the whole race with GI upset and hallucinations. She still got 2nd (but still seemed disappointed; she's an animal!). Yes, she finished the Ironman even though her stomach hurt and she was hallucinating. And still got 2nd! Unbelievable.

Then, I told her I was training for IM-AZ, which would be my first. She freely offered training advice and Ironman racing tips for the next 10-15 minutes! I hung on every word.

She said eventually your body just gets used to the longer distances and naturally learns how to pace itself. That the first one is always the hardest because of that. She also advised me not to make the mistake of thinking Arizona would be easy because it's relatively flat. She advised me to still do hill training and lots of aerobar training and hill training in my aerobars. She told me to do Torrey Pines repeats (a local 1 mile hill in our area) until I could go up comfortably in my aeros. Phew! I'm just glad I can do it at all! Once! She also gave recommendations on other good hills in the area--Poway to Ramona 67, Lake Hodges, Del Dios--I know of these and have done these so at least I'm on the right track!

Since it was getting dark, and she was getting ready to leave, I tried not to ask too many questions; however, she seemed really talkative. I could tell that she really loves the sport. It was just awesome.

Feeling great since last night. Even did a Masters Swim this morning! Guess the best way to get out of a slump is to go and do a great workout! I'm ready for a kick-ass weekend. Bring it!

For even more details about the Aquathlon last night, here's a great link

http://peddlincoastal.blogs.com/the_wisdoms_of_overanalyz/2007/08/august-aquathlo.html.

Apparently, Normann Stadler was there too, and I didn't even know it! Jeez.