Confession time. I hit a low point in training, a mental weakness type of low further debilitated by injuries. For weeks, I felt like I was doing well; I was completing workouts, seeing improvements in fitness and I was feeling good about myself. Kona seemed totally doable.
Then I had a really bad run. Actually, the run itself was nothing spectacular, but due to my carelessness and dropping my car key along the running path, my 14 miler turned into nearly a 20 miler and my body wasn't prepared for it. I was out of water, nutrition - it was an overall poor turn of events. The following two weeks were hellish in terms of IT band pain. My neck issue decided to rear its ugly head so my lower left and upper right quarters of my body were useless. It hurt to stand, it hurt to walk, it hurt to move. I took a spill on my bike the day before the bad run and fell on the outer portion of my left knee which left quite a bump and bruise exactly where my IT band hurts so I'm sure that didn't help.
I immediately went into damage control (after envisioning how miserable running 1 mile let alone 26 miles would be in a few weeks). I foam rolled like crazy, used the stick, consumed ibuprofen like candy, slathered on diclofenac gel and icy hot, used the cold laser at work, and got worked on a couple times at PT. I didn't much run for nearly two weeks (a couple very short runs only). Friday, Holli and rode a touch over 5 hours and 100 miles and I felt pretty awesome after that. Then saturday rolled around which should have been a long run. I woke up from nap and felt really short of breath. It was an odd feeling, but I thought maybe the humidity was doing weird things to me and didn't think much of it. I set out to run and ran exactly 0.18 miles before I turned around. I couldn't breathe, my legs felt strange.
I thought, okay - I'll go swim! Coach had said if running hurt, then head to the pool. It wasn't that it hurt per say, but my body felt strange so I thought, better safe than sorry (I worry about asthma attacks), so away to the pool I went. I swam about 1400 yards before multiple lifeguard whistles were blown and we were kicked out of the pool because a kid had vomited.
And the Gods said, "you will not work out today."
I continued to feel weird through the following day. I used my expired inhaler (I know... really, I know) a few times and began drinking copious amounts of water wondering if dehydration was the problem. My stomach was visibly distended (though the rest of my abdomen looked fine, it was... strange looking to say the least) and I still couldn't take full breaths so I Dr. Google'd my symptoms and took tums and gas-x (though gas was really not the problem, boy scout promise). It was a rest day (though the previous day was basically a rest day too) so... I rested. Hard core rested. Honestly, I slept almost all day long. I was awake for about 4 hours in total and slept through the night.
It was ridiculous. What a waste of a Sunday.
Woke up Monday morning and went to work still feeling a bit off. I solemnly swear I will drink more water from now on. Mischief managed and all that. I really think I was super dehydrated from the ride Friday and didn't properly rehydrate like a sane person would do.
The IT band has verrrrry slowly been improving though some days I wake up and fall out of bed, but hey, no big deal. Yesterday it was time to test her out again. I was at my parent's house this past weekend to see them and my brother (!!!) and Sunday morning I planned on running 12. It would be a gold star added to the steps-to-ironman-readiness chart in my head and boost my low morale a bit. A lot was riding (albeit only mentally) on this run.
I was excited though. I was going to run my route. my path. I have run this path/route approximately 100 times. Or more. Many more actually. I ran here during college when I began "distance running"... i.e. greater than 4 miles. I ran here more days than not during the year after college when I was contemplating my next steps in life. I run here and think about many things... marriage... and later, divorce... school... and later, job... the miles on this trail are so familiar and comforting... I know I'm home. Now that I don't come home as often, I tried to really savor my run and take trips down memory lane because this is also where I grew up. I first played baseball on the field next to the prairie path (25 years ago), I spent my very early childhood in the apartment complex on the trail, the popcorn shop, the train station, the DQ after softball games, etc...
SO, I've been thinking a lot about heart rates lately and my lack of knowledge associated with it. I decided to aim for what-I-estimate-based-on-the-average-of-some-loose-calculations is zone 2, meaning pretty easy running. It was hot as hell outside and you could basically see the humidity in the air, so I thought this would be a safe way to complete my first long-ish run in 3 weeks. I was aiming for 12. This would get tricky if I wasn't up for 12 since I was doing a straight out and back, but I like to live dangerously so away I went.
My first mile was 8:40 and my heart rate was in the gutter but it was so hot that I knew in a mile or two it would come up significantly without trying. It did. I knew I was running really slow but it felt nice and easy and effortless so I just kept that pace. The miles ticked by fairly quickly, I know where the mile markers are and I know even where unofficial half mile markers are (I ran here a lot pre-GPS era). My heart rate stayed pretty steady until mile 8 - I had already hit the turn around, I had 4 left to do with pretty minimal knee pain so I decided that I was done with heart rate training and the heat hadn't ended me yet, so I was going to go faster. Surprisingly to me, my heart rate didn't increase all that dramatically though it felt like I was running pretty fast (thank you humidity) - my pace only dropped by about 10 seconds in mile 9. By the last mile though, my body thought it was hauling ass. It put up an 8:02 which was pleasing given the conditions and the fact that I haven't been running much. Still not fast though. But 12 miles later and buckets of sweat left in the car on the ride home, I was done and felt pretty good about running again.
I think I'm coming out of the slump now. Running at home seriously helped. I watched some triathlon footage and the paralympics for swimming today and I think I found a touch of motivation again. Watching the paralympics was incredible. It makes my stupid knee pain look ridiculous. Self and I had a quick chat - self, your life is fairly uncomplicated and you have a pretty healthy and able body to do awesome things; no excuses, its time for you to step up and kick your own ass but no one is going to do it for you. If they can accomplish the unthinkable, then you can sure as hell achieve what you want to if you work your butt off. End of conversation.
I'm ready for a bigger week of training, had a great spin session today with a made-up-on-the-fly workout that kicked my ass, so cheers to more ass kicking and getting closer to the big races.
Monday, July 20, 2015
Sunday, June 21, 2015
Race Report: Grand Rapids Tri - Half-Iron (Plus Epic-Girls-Tri-Weekend)
I can't adequately describe in words how much I needed this weekend. I love my new home and new life out east, but I genuinely miss my people! This past week leading up to the weekend was an emotional roller coaster for one of my favorite people and it sucked being 700 miles away and feeling like I couldn't do anything to help her. She's strong as hell and although I knew she was going to be okay, I also knew that she needed this weekend just like I did. Cue GIRLS TRI-WEEKEND (and three-fourths-quad-pod reunion).
Up early Friday for my solo road trip to Michigan and, as per usual, not quite prepared. I was out of pineapple skratch and my favorite tri-berry powerbar wafer energy bars. Did I think to go shopping ahead of time? Of course not - that would be what the general public refers to as "being responsible" and "thinking ahead".
I did, however, have all my tri gear laid out but no actual clothing packed, nor had I cleaned out the car for my road trip (though I did remember to get an oil change so thats something). Packed up my stuff, double/triple checked that I had the big things like a bike. helmet. asian flavored chick peas. you know, the really important stuff.
Fast forward 11 hours and I was pulling up to the quiet lake to meet my sole sisters for a practice swim. Seeing them hanging out by the water (as I waved at them and missed the place to park) put a huge smile on my face - it was like coming home. I really missed my friends. They'd already pulled a "breaking and entering" act of defiance so we could get to the water... anything in the name of training, right? 15-20 minute practice swim and I was feeling pretty good. I normally don't swim before races, but after sitting in the car for 10+ hours, it was nice to get the blood flowing and play in the quiet water with the girls.
Founders brewery for dinner and had an incredible portabella mushroom sandwich and a couple nitro oatmeal stouts - Mmm. Then... THEN... Jurassic World. It was awesome, though I was quickly running low on energy and was really looking forward to bed. I was forced to get Reese's Pieces to keep myself awake... yep, forced.
Slept in until 8:30 (-ish, I woke up a few times but feel back asleep). Thats like noon to the rest of the world since I generally don't sleep past 5:30 am. The girls stayed in the room and I headed out with my bike and running shoes to the race site for a quick ride and run. As soon as I parked I realized I had no helmet. I toyed with the idea of riding sans helmet but if you've met me, you know I can't ride without a helmet. If you really know me, you know I should probably wear some sort of protective head gear at all times.
So, back to the hotel. Grabbed my helmet and arm warmers which I had also left behind (it was pretty chilly). Realized I also forgot my watch, but hey, no big deal. Quick 20 minute ride, legs felt good. 15 minute run and I was done and hungry for breakfast.
My parents showed up while I was taking a shower, amazing to see them! We headed out to breakfast at this cute restaurant and after debating between everything on the menu, I settled on a crab/asparagus/cheese omelet with a side of two pancakes. Ate it all along with a few glasses of water and coffee.
We then needed to go to the store to pick up last minute items for the race. I wanted to hang out with my parents too but for some reason they didn't want to come shopping which I thought was weird and unlike them. We headed out to Meijer and did some shopping - I had forgotten my uncrustables sandwiches so I picked those up plus gatorade and a starbucks double shot for race morning. My blueberry bagels, peanut butter, and bananas had at least managed to make it into my bag - at least I remembered that much in my scatter-brained mess of a packing situation.
Headed to packet pick-up and it ended up being a bigger deal than I thought - it even had a mini-expo which was great because I picked up some salted caramel GUs (supply was running low). Ran into James there - he was racing the Olympic. We wandered through the tents for a bit and then the girls and I headed back to the hotel. Opened up the door and I immediately noticed pink streamers... whaaaaat? Turned on the light and the whole room was decorated with streamers and Hawaiian themed decorations as well as my Mom's awesome posters. There were tiki bags with electric lights and leis and grass skirts even! It was super thoughtful and amazing - I love birthdays the way a five year old loves birthdays. Love.
We had a mini-party once Dayle's parents arrived and everyone spoiled me with gifts. I chatted with Coach T on the phone for a bit going over race strategy and getting geared up mentally for the race. Carrabba's for dinner (pasta with shrimp and asparagus plus calamari), then back to the hotel for Dayle's mom to get us race ready via heat massage, accupunture, and cupping. She focused on my shoulder/back where I've been having pain while on the bike and going to bed I felt relaxed and sleepy.
Oh yea, so that race report...
4:45am wake up call. First one up. Dressed in my SOAS gear with my usual hot pink visor and T casually checked the weather before opening the blinds.
"THIS COULD GET UGLY" was the headline. That made all of us laugh, but at the same time a little nervous that the race could be cancelled with the possibility of lightning. The threat of thunderstorms had been looming all week and the closer we got to racetime, the worse the forecast became. 100% chance of rain - they weren't kidding around. It was an absolute down pour.
Got my drinks together (2 with orange skratch - never tried it, but T had it, and 2 with water), a couple of GU chomps, 2 uncrustables sandwiches and a handful of salted caramel GUs. I stashed some salt tabs and ibuprofen in the race belt never thinking they would get wet and congeal into a pink powdery mess. Eh, turns out I wouldn't need them anyway.
Caught up with my mom and dad downstairs and loaded up my bike. I contorted myself around the bike in the backseat of the car in complete law-abiding fashion. "Athlete drop-off" was about a quarter of a mile away from transition, so I trudged through the rain with the rest of the water-logged athletes to transition. There were legitimate rivers flowing through parts of the transition area but luckily none near me. I arranged my stuff after cursing myself for forgetting plastic bags at the hotel. Ended up covering all my stuff with a towel and hoped for the best.
I hastily remembered I hadn't really eaten anything except half of a Starbucks double shot (seriously, what is wrong with me) so I crammed a banana and a soggy blueberry bagel with peanut butter into my mouth while I wandered out of transition. I found the Team RWB tent and made friends while I tried to pull on my wet wetsuit. Its tougher than I thought it would be - lucky I didn't tear that baby while I attempted to wrench it over my legs, body, and arms. By the time I had the wetsuit on, the race was starting and my wave was supposed to start 10 minutes after. Said hey to my parents and found T near the water with the other purple-capped ladies.
Swim:
I positioned myself near the start hoping I might be able to stay near the front of the pack for the swim. Once the horn sounded, I took off and after roughly 10 strokes, I saw a few girls out to my right who were probably ex-olympic swimmers because they were already miles away. I ignored them and started swimming solo. I didn't see anyone around me until about 1/4 of the way through the swim when I started to catch up to the people in the waves ahead of me. Thankfully they were well out of the way and it was easy to get around the few that were in-line with the sighting buoys. The swim was less than exciting - kept a steady pace, water temperature was beautiful (upper 60's maybe?) and I stayed well in line with the buoys from what I could tell. Finished amongst black and red caps only so I knew I was ahead of most of half-iron women. Besides the handful of Missy Franklin's that had outswum me, that is.
T1:
Everything was soaked, which was no big deal. The real annoyance was the approximately 7 mile long transition area and the people walking their bikes like they were out for late morning Sunday stroll in the park. COME ON PEOPLE, THIS TIME COUNTS TOO. I should know, my transitions are already terrible and this delay wasn't helping.
Bike:
8 hours later, I arrived at the line to mount my bike. Okay it was like a minute later but it felt like Monday morning. Anyway - got on the bike (still pouring rain, mind you) and zoomed off. I felt awesome. I NEVER feel awesome riding my bike, but I felt fast, so I went with it. I started to pick off the guys in front of me, trying to get a glimpse of women in front of me - I couldn't see any. The Missy Franklins in the swim were apparently Lance Armstrongs on the bike. A few men passed me - naturally, they were only in front for a little while until they sped away. My watch was reading a greater than 21 mph average which freaked me out a bit so I tried to get out of my head because my legs didn't feel like they were trying too hard. Go with it Prochnow. That NBC IM announcer voice that was narrating my story in my head was telling me I was looking good, so I continued on that pace.
I slowed a bit when I tried to eat the first Uncrustable around 45 minutes into the bike. I couldn't rip open the package and I ended up swallowing a small amount of plastic. Eh. Once I was able to figure out the plastic wrapping, I sped back up to my previous speed. The course was simple - 28 miles out and 28 miles back with what seemed like less than 5 turns. Despite the rain, I was pretty comfortable with how the bike was handling the slick pavement - thank goodness for straightaways and small rollers that ended in more straight roads.
Hit another small blip around 1:30 or 1:45 on the bike - I had a craving for a banana and I was coming up to an aid station. Slowed way down and called out "banana?" A girl looked at me and nodded and literally threw the banana at me which barely got close to my back as I crept past. No banana for me. Struggled with a package of GU chomps at that point because I knew I had to eat something, anything. Not sure why modern day food packaging was testing me, but I definitely lost that battle in an embarrassing way. With 15 miles or so to go on the bike, a girl quickly passed me and I decided I was going to stay with her. We picked up a male counterpart and the three of us took turns passing each other as we sped around a ton of athletes in the olympic race (the courses all overlapped each other).
My average for the last 15 miles was about 22 mph. Thats crazy fast for me! And I honestly didn't feel like I was working all that hard. It was still raining during the bike at that time and started raining harder by the end - but that wasn't about to faze me, I felt like I was killing the second half of the bike. For the first time ever in a race, I wasn't hurting and I was enjoying riding.
T2
Another clusterfuck of a traffic jam in transition, but this time worse than T1. Complete dead stop at times. FRUSTRATING. I know my transition times always suck and this proved to be yet another terrible transition (there's never been a fast one for the record). A couple minutes later I was at the rack and discovered the river had finally reached our area. My shoes were sitting in a puddle and my socks were soaked. squish squish squish - I shuffled out of transition, quick stepping around more bike/people hazards.
Run:
Usually my favorite, but with everything soaked, it wasn't ideal conditions. The course was fairly flat other than a few small rolling hills and one mother of a hill. I began to pass people and with each woman, I tried to get a glance at their right calf for the "S", "O", or "H", designating which race they were in. Not really any "H's" to catch in front of me, though a couple girls flew past like I was standing still (They would later finish with half marathon times in the 1:30s). I could see one girl in particular very gradually gaining ground - I knew she was in the half but I didn't know her age group, as I was only seeing the front of her. Had a salted caramel GU right off the bat in the first mile, with the other two around miles 5 and 10. Around mile 6 or 7, the rain stopped and the temperature started to rise. I wasn't feeling the heat too much until someone yelled "DAMN ITS HOT AND HUMID". I looked around and was like, you know, you're right - it is hot and humid! At that point was the turn-around for the course which took place on a sandy path with the consistency of running on damp, packed, beach sand. With each step, I felt the energy suck out of me and by the time I hit the pavement again, I had lost my legs. I know this was a combination of poor nutrition on the bike and potentially a lack of fitness to finish off the run (the first half was on pace for a 1:43). Either way, the last handful of miles felt like I was still running in wet sand. I kept glancing at my watch and doing pacing math. Early on, I was guessing I'd be around 5:05 (huge PR). With a few miles to go, as long as I kept moving forward as a reasonable pace, I'd be under 5:10 - still a PR by 8 minutes. By the last turn with three miles left, my competition was uncomfortably close and I tried to hold her off. The sign for mile 12 was missing so with a glance at my watch, I picked it up with approximately 1 mile left to go. The finish line loomed ahead so I dug in and with a quick squint at the clock, I smiled - 5:08:03, a 10 minute PR.
(Little did I know, the girl that was gaining ground was in my age group - and I beat her by a measly five seconds! Looking back at the finisher pics, you can see her in every one. Victory.)
That time was good enough for first in my AG and a solid overall finish. Definitely a race I could be proud of after a disappointing time at Monticelloman. My family, Dayle, and James greeted me at the finish line. So awesome. Got a medal and finisher visor and a handful of pizza and mountain dew. We waited for T to finish just a bit after me and the sole sisters were reunited once again. We checked our results and I grabbed my award (plaque and $25 gift certificate).
Up early Friday for my solo road trip to Michigan and, as per usual, not quite prepared. I was out of pineapple skratch and my favorite tri-berry powerbar wafer energy bars. Did I think to go shopping ahead of time? Of course not - that would be what the general public refers to as "being responsible" and "thinking ahead".
I did, however, have all my tri gear laid out but no actual clothing packed, nor had I cleaned out the car for my road trip (though I did remember to get an oil change so thats something). Packed up my stuff, double/triple checked that I had the big things like a bike. helmet. asian flavored chick peas. you know, the really important stuff.
Fast forward 11 hours and I was pulling up to the quiet lake to meet my sole sisters for a practice swim. Seeing them hanging out by the water (as I waved at them and missed the place to park) put a huge smile on my face - it was like coming home. I really missed my friends. They'd already pulled a "breaking and entering" act of defiance so we could get to the water... anything in the name of training, right? 15-20 minute practice swim and I was feeling pretty good. I normally don't swim before races, but after sitting in the car for 10+ hours, it was nice to get the blood flowing and play in the quiet water with the girls.
Founders brewery for dinner and had an incredible portabella mushroom sandwich and a couple nitro oatmeal stouts - Mmm. Then... THEN... Jurassic World. It was awesome, though I was quickly running low on energy and was really looking forward to bed. I was forced to get Reese's Pieces to keep myself awake... yep, forced.
Slept in until 8:30 (-ish, I woke up a few times but feel back asleep). Thats like noon to the rest of the world since I generally don't sleep past 5:30 am. The girls stayed in the room and I headed out with my bike and running shoes to the race site for a quick ride and run. As soon as I parked I realized I had no helmet. I toyed with the idea of riding sans helmet but if you've met me, you know I can't ride without a helmet. If you really know me, you know I should probably wear some sort of protective head gear at all times.
So, back to the hotel. Grabbed my helmet and arm warmers which I had also left behind (it was pretty chilly). Realized I also forgot my watch, but hey, no big deal. Quick 20 minute ride, legs felt good. 15 minute run and I was done and hungry for breakfast.
My parents showed up while I was taking a shower, amazing to see them! We headed out to breakfast at this cute restaurant and after debating between everything on the menu, I settled on a crab/asparagus/cheese omelet with a side of two pancakes. Ate it all along with a few glasses of water and coffee.
We then needed to go to the store to pick up last minute items for the race. I wanted to hang out with my parents too but for some reason they didn't want to come shopping which I thought was weird and unlike them. We headed out to Meijer and did some shopping - I had forgotten my uncrustables sandwiches so I picked those up plus gatorade and a starbucks double shot for race morning. My blueberry bagels, peanut butter, and bananas had at least managed to make it into my bag - at least I remembered that much in my scatter-brained mess of a packing situation.
Headed to packet pick-up and it ended up being a bigger deal than I thought - it even had a mini-expo which was great because I picked up some salted caramel GUs (supply was running low). Ran into James there - he was racing the Olympic. We wandered through the tents for a bit and then the girls and I headed back to the hotel. Opened up the door and I immediately noticed pink streamers... whaaaaat? Turned on the light and the whole room was decorated with streamers and Hawaiian themed decorations as well as my Mom's awesome posters. There were tiki bags with electric lights and leis and grass skirts even! It was super thoughtful and amazing - I love birthdays the way a five year old loves birthdays. Love.
We had a mini-party once Dayle's parents arrived and everyone spoiled me with gifts. I chatted with Coach T on the phone for a bit going over race strategy and getting geared up mentally for the race. Carrabba's for dinner (pasta with shrimp and asparagus plus calamari), then back to the hotel for Dayle's mom to get us race ready via heat massage, accupunture, and cupping. She focused on my shoulder/back where I've been having pain while on the bike and going to bed I felt relaxed and sleepy.
Oh yea, so that race report...
4:45am wake up call. First one up. Dressed in my SOAS gear with my usual hot pink visor and T casually checked the weather before opening the blinds.
"THIS COULD GET UGLY" was the headline. That made all of us laugh, but at the same time a little nervous that the race could be cancelled with the possibility of lightning. The threat of thunderstorms had been looming all week and the closer we got to racetime, the worse the forecast became. 100% chance of rain - they weren't kidding around. It was an absolute down pour.
Got my drinks together (2 with orange skratch - never tried it, but T had it, and 2 with water), a couple of GU chomps, 2 uncrustables sandwiches and a handful of salted caramel GUs. I stashed some salt tabs and ibuprofen in the race belt never thinking they would get wet and congeal into a pink powdery mess. Eh, turns out I wouldn't need them anyway.
Caught up with my mom and dad downstairs and loaded up my bike. I contorted myself around the bike in the backseat of the car in complete law-abiding fashion. "Athlete drop-off" was about a quarter of a mile away from transition, so I trudged through the rain with the rest of the water-logged athletes to transition. There were legitimate rivers flowing through parts of the transition area but luckily none near me. I arranged my stuff after cursing myself for forgetting plastic bags at the hotel. Ended up covering all my stuff with a towel and hoped for the best.
I hastily remembered I hadn't really eaten anything except half of a Starbucks double shot (seriously, what is wrong with me) so I crammed a banana and a soggy blueberry bagel with peanut butter into my mouth while I wandered out of transition. I found the Team RWB tent and made friends while I tried to pull on my wet wetsuit. Its tougher than I thought it would be - lucky I didn't tear that baby while I attempted to wrench it over my legs, body, and arms. By the time I had the wetsuit on, the race was starting and my wave was supposed to start 10 minutes after. Said hey to my parents and found T near the water with the other purple-capped ladies.
Swim:
I positioned myself near the start hoping I might be able to stay near the front of the pack for the swim. Once the horn sounded, I took off and after roughly 10 strokes, I saw a few girls out to my right who were probably ex-olympic swimmers because they were already miles away. I ignored them and started swimming solo. I didn't see anyone around me until about 1/4 of the way through the swim when I started to catch up to the people in the waves ahead of me. Thankfully they were well out of the way and it was easy to get around the few that were in-line with the sighting buoys. The swim was less than exciting - kept a steady pace, water temperature was beautiful (upper 60's maybe?) and I stayed well in line with the buoys from what I could tell. Finished amongst black and red caps only so I knew I was ahead of most of half-iron women. Besides the handful of Missy Franklin's that had outswum me, that is.
T1:
Everything was soaked, which was no big deal. The real annoyance was the approximately 7 mile long transition area and the people walking their bikes like they were out for late morning Sunday stroll in the park. COME ON PEOPLE, THIS TIME COUNTS TOO. I should know, my transitions are already terrible and this delay wasn't helping.
Bike:
8 hours later, I arrived at the line to mount my bike. Okay it was like a minute later but it felt like Monday morning. Anyway - got on the bike (still pouring rain, mind you) and zoomed off. I felt awesome. I NEVER feel awesome riding my bike, but I felt fast, so I went with it. I started to pick off the guys in front of me, trying to get a glimpse of women in front of me - I couldn't see any. The Missy Franklins in the swim were apparently Lance Armstrongs on the bike. A few men passed me - naturally, they were only in front for a little while until they sped away. My watch was reading a greater than 21 mph average which freaked me out a bit so I tried to get out of my head because my legs didn't feel like they were trying too hard. Go with it Prochnow. That NBC IM announcer voice that was narrating my story in my head was telling me I was looking good, so I continued on that pace.
I slowed a bit when I tried to eat the first Uncrustable around 45 minutes into the bike. I couldn't rip open the package and I ended up swallowing a small amount of plastic. Eh. Once I was able to figure out the plastic wrapping, I sped back up to my previous speed. The course was simple - 28 miles out and 28 miles back with what seemed like less than 5 turns. Despite the rain, I was pretty comfortable with how the bike was handling the slick pavement - thank goodness for straightaways and small rollers that ended in more straight roads.
Hit another small blip around 1:30 or 1:45 on the bike - I had a craving for a banana and I was coming up to an aid station. Slowed way down and called out "banana?" A girl looked at me and nodded and literally threw the banana at me which barely got close to my back as I crept past. No banana for me. Struggled with a package of GU chomps at that point because I knew I had to eat something, anything. Not sure why modern day food packaging was testing me, but I definitely lost that battle in an embarrassing way. With 15 miles or so to go on the bike, a girl quickly passed me and I decided I was going to stay with her. We picked up a male counterpart and the three of us took turns passing each other as we sped around a ton of athletes in the olympic race (the courses all overlapped each other).
My average for the last 15 miles was about 22 mph. Thats crazy fast for me! And I honestly didn't feel like I was working all that hard. It was still raining during the bike at that time and started raining harder by the end - but that wasn't about to faze me, I felt like I was killing the second half of the bike. For the first time ever in a race, I wasn't hurting and I was enjoying riding.
T2
Another clusterfuck of a traffic jam in transition, but this time worse than T1. Complete dead stop at times. FRUSTRATING. I know my transition times always suck and this proved to be yet another terrible transition (there's never been a fast one for the record). A couple minutes later I was at the rack and discovered the river had finally reached our area. My shoes were sitting in a puddle and my socks were soaked. squish squish squish - I shuffled out of transition, quick stepping around more bike/people hazards.
Run:
Usually my favorite, but with everything soaked, it wasn't ideal conditions. The course was fairly flat other than a few small rolling hills and one mother of a hill. I began to pass people and with each woman, I tried to get a glance at their right calf for the "S", "O", or "H", designating which race they were in. Not really any "H's" to catch in front of me, though a couple girls flew past like I was standing still (They would later finish with half marathon times in the 1:30s). I could see one girl in particular very gradually gaining ground - I knew she was in the half but I didn't know her age group, as I was only seeing the front of her. Had a salted caramel GU right off the bat in the first mile, with the other two around miles 5 and 10. Around mile 6 or 7, the rain stopped and the temperature started to rise. I wasn't feeling the heat too much until someone yelled "DAMN ITS HOT AND HUMID". I looked around and was like, you know, you're right - it is hot and humid! At that point was the turn-around for the course which took place on a sandy path with the consistency of running on damp, packed, beach sand. With each step, I felt the energy suck out of me and by the time I hit the pavement again, I had lost my legs. I know this was a combination of poor nutrition on the bike and potentially a lack of fitness to finish off the run (the first half was on pace for a 1:43). Either way, the last handful of miles felt like I was still running in wet sand. I kept glancing at my watch and doing pacing math. Early on, I was guessing I'd be around 5:05 (huge PR). With a few miles to go, as long as I kept moving forward as a reasonable pace, I'd be under 5:10 - still a PR by 8 minutes. By the last turn with three miles left, my competition was uncomfortably close and I tried to hold her off. The sign for mile 12 was missing so with a glance at my watch, I picked it up with approximately 1 mile left to go. The finish line loomed ahead so I dug in and with a quick squint at the clock, I smiled - 5:08:03, a 10 minute PR.
(Little did I know, the girl that was gaining ground was in my age group - and I beat her by a measly five seconds! Looking back at the finisher pics, you can see her in every one. Victory.)
That time was good enough for first in my AG and a solid overall finish. Definitely a race I could be proud of after a disappointing time at Monticelloman. My family, Dayle, and James greeted me at the finish line. So awesome. Got a medal and finisher visor and a handful of pizza and mountain dew. We waited for T to finish just a bit after me and the sole sisters were reunited once again. We checked our results and I grabbed my award (plaque and $25 gift certificate).
Awesome overall weekend, ready for some big training ahead!
Monday, June 1, 2015
From Beer can to Ironman
Confession - I stole the title from little brother's facebook page. Let me brag about him for a sec/min/hour, though to me, he is still just that hilarious kid that makes me laugh until I pee my pants.
At some point in the past 27 years, he grew up into this awesome adult. Recap - hes wanted to be a pilot since he could talk. No lie. Half of his childhood Halloween costumes consisted of a flight suit with patches from the pilot-neighbor down the street. When Halloween was over, the flight suit turned into normal clothes that he'd wear to play flight simulator games in. We watched Top Gun 8000 times and at family get togethers (or really, at any random time), we'd make him sing "You've lost that Loving Feeling". When the three year old who still can't pronounce all the words right serenades you with that song, you just melt. To us, he was "Maverick". Every summer, we'd venture up to Oshkosh, Wisconsin for the EAA air show, one of the highlights of our summers - we'd watch the air shows for the jets, the fast fly-bys, and the war birds - none of us were ever really interested in the acrobatics... it was jet engines and speed that impressed us.
He wanted to be an Air Force pilot. So, he got accepted to USAFA by way of Dennis Hastert, a pretty big deal of a man himself. It was tough on him at first... he struggled a lot that first year. In my heart of hearts, I'm glad that he went through that because it made him a different, yet stronger person. He grew up so much during that time - all of a sudden we were using words like "mature", "respectful", "dedicated", and "successful" to describe my baby brother.
Long story short, he graduated from USAFA and is now flying an F-16. That's neat.
The point of this weird-tribute-that-went-slightly-off-topic is he's always been athletic - I've beenextremely jealous marginally impressed with how easily academics and sports come to him. He has a history of dabbling in various sports, never quite sticking with one thing, but merely enjoying being a part of all of them. Golf, baseball, swimming, volleyball, lacrosse, you name it, he could play it.
Around Christmas time last year, he told me he was planning on running a marathon. He followed that up with "But I've never run more than 3 miles before". I thought to myself, hell, I'll be pretty impressed if he trains and sticks to it. As much as I love my brother, follow-through is not always his strong suit in sports.
But then... he began asking me about training plans. Then shoes. Then knee pain - Ankle pain - Hip pain! We talked about GPS watches. We discussed work-outs, long runs, tempo runs! We've talked more this year on the phone than we have in years past. The months passed and the map-my-run alerts increased in frequency (and distance). Wait, he ran 13 miles? 15? 18???
In the middle of all the running, triathlon started to creep into our conversations. I knew he was proud of what I had done last year, going from a minimal triathlon background to a full 140.6 in less than a year. I wasn't sure how much it impressed him, but I knew that he thought it was cool.
He started asking questions about bikes (those two-wheeled transportation devices I know little about). I sought the opinions of the "experts" and researched online. More and more, he was asking ME questions. Me, the big sister who has always looked UP to her LITTLE brother. He wanted MY opinion. "What do you eat before/during/after you work out?" "I found this thing online called TrainingPeaks, what do you think?" "I'm thinking about signing up for a race, whats your opinion?"
A few weeks ago, he told me his goal for the marathon was 3:42.1. (421 is his squadron... I think. Bad sister).
Last weekend, he ran 3:39. He crushed it! (On that note, he also crushed my time, but I'll let him have the spotlight for today). His girlfriend kept sending videos and updates - my whole family were glued to our phones for just over three and a half hours, getting live updates and tracking his progress online.
Are there bigger accomplishments out there? Absolutely. Are there far more important things that are done all over the world everyday? No doubt. But on that day, I was proud as hell of my little brother. I told all my friends. I sent them video clips, I forwarded the updates. He had a following!
The kid just signed up for his first triathlon, he will be doing Ironman Silverman 70.3 in Vegas. He's planning on doing a couple shorter ones prior to it, likely Chicago later in the summer. And he started a facebook page (I think thats what the cool kids are doing) to hold himself publicly accountable for training. I even scored an acknowledgement on the bio page - "After seeing my sister transition from mortal human to Ironman, I decided I would do the same." Rad.
I'm just SO excited for him. Its really neat to share the sport with my family - I hope he grows to love it like I do. And if he doesn't, he'll find his passion elsewhere. He has the talent and the body type to be really good - I know if he sticks with it and pushes himself, he will be surprised at the end result.
The sport came into my life just as a major chapter was beginning to end. If we are being completely honest (and you know I try to be), it altered the trajectory of my life path. My affection for the sport is multi-fold but part of it stems from distracting me from my less-than-happy prior life. A year ago, I never dreamed I would be where I am today - career-wise, triathlon-wise, personal-life-wise. Triathlon isn't my entire life, nor do I want it to be - but does it greatly enrich my life? Hell yes. Will little brother feel the same way after a month, a summer, a year? Only time will tell, but I'm excited to follow him on that journey... From Beer can to Ironman.
At some point in the past 27 years, he grew up into this awesome adult. Recap - hes wanted to be a pilot since he could talk. No lie. Half of his childhood Halloween costumes consisted of a flight suit with patches from the pilot-neighbor down the street. When Halloween was over, the flight suit turned into normal clothes that he'd wear to play flight simulator games in. We watched Top Gun 8000 times and at family get togethers (or really, at any random time), we'd make him sing "You've lost that Loving Feeling". When the three year old who still can't pronounce all the words right serenades you with that song, you just melt. To us, he was "Maverick". Every summer, we'd venture up to Oshkosh, Wisconsin for the EAA air show, one of the highlights of our summers - we'd watch the air shows for the jets, the fast fly-bys, and the war birds - none of us were ever really interested in the acrobatics... it was jet engines and speed that impressed us.
He wanted to be an Air Force pilot. So, he got accepted to USAFA by way of Dennis Hastert, a pretty big deal of a man himself. It was tough on him at first... he struggled a lot that first year. In my heart of hearts, I'm glad that he went through that because it made him a different, yet stronger person. He grew up so much during that time - all of a sudden we were using words like "mature", "respectful", "dedicated", and "successful" to describe my baby brother.
Long story short, he graduated from USAFA and is now flying an F-16. That's neat.
The point of this weird-tribute-that-went-slightly-off-topic is he's always been athletic - I've been
Around Christmas time last year, he told me he was planning on running a marathon. He followed that up with "But I've never run more than 3 miles before". I thought to myself, hell, I'll be pretty impressed if he trains and sticks to it. As much as I love my brother, follow-through is not always his strong suit in sports.
But then... he began asking me about training plans. Then shoes. Then knee pain - Ankle pain - Hip pain! We talked about GPS watches. We discussed work-outs, long runs, tempo runs! We've talked more this year on the phone than we have in years past. The months passed and the map-my-run alerts increased in frequency (and distance). Wait, he ran 13 miles? 15? 18???
In the middle of all the running, triathlon started to creep into our conversations. I knew he was proud of what I had done last year, going from a minimal triathlon background to a full 140.6 in less than a year. I wasn't sure how much it impressed him, but I knew that he thought it was cool.
He started asking questions about bikes (those two-wheeled transportation devices I know little about). I sought the opinions of the "experts" and researched online. More and more, he was asking ME questions. Me, the big sister who has always looked UP to her LITTLE brother. He wanted MY opinion. "What do you eat before/during/after you work out?" "I found this thing online called TrainingPeaks, what do you think?" "I'm thinking about signing up for a race, whats your opinion?"
A few weeks ago, he told me his goal for the marathon was 3:42.1. (421 is his squadron... I think. Bad sister).
Last weekend, he ran 3:39. He crushed it! (On that note, he also crushed my time, but I'll let him have the spotlight for today). His girlfriend kept sending videos and updates - my whole family were glued to our phones for just over three and a half hours, getting live updates and tracking his progress online.
Are there bigger accomplishments out there? Absolutely. Are there far more important things that are done all over the world everyday? No doubt. But on that day, I was proud as hell of my little brother. I told all my friends. I sent them video clips, I forwarded the updates. He had a following!
The kid just signed up for his first triathlon, he will be doing Ironman Silverman 70.3 in Vegas. He's planning on doing a couple shorter ones prior to it, likely Chicago later in the summer. And he started a facebook page (I think thats what the cool kids are doing) to hold himself publicly accountable for training. I even scored an acknowledgement on the bio page - "After seeing my sister transition from mortal human to Ironman, I decided I would do the same." Rad.
I'm just SO excited for him. Its really neat to share the sport with my family - I hope he grows to love it like I do. And if he doesn't, he'll find his passion elsewhere. He has the talent and the body type to be really good - I know if he sticks with it and pushes himself, he will be surprised at the end result.
The sport came into my life just as a major chapter was beginning to end. If we are being completely honest (and you know I try to be), it altered the trajectory of my life path. My affection for the sport is multi-fold but part of it stems from distracting me from my less-than-happy prior life. A year ago, I never dreamed I would be where I am today - career-wise, triathlon-wise, personal-life-wise. Triathlon isn't my entire life, nor do I want it to be - but does it greatly enrich my life? Hell yes. Will little brother feel the same way after a month, a summer, a year? Only time will tell, but I'm excited to follow him on that journey... From Beer can to Ironman.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Race Recap: Alexandria Running Festival Half-Marathon
The morning started off a touch out of sorts. Went to bed a bit late and woke up a touch early. My head was slightly fuzzy with a minor headache as soon as I woke up but judging by the rumbling in my stomach, my head wasn't going to be the problem on race morning! I popped some pretty pink pepto, ate a few tums and hoped for the best while I got changed. A few too many bathroom trips before leaving the house concerned me... but no big deal, I'd shake it off once I started running. Or not. We'd see.
Got to the race start (right outside the US Patent Office) and joined up with the Team RWB. If you don't know who they are - you should.
Go look it up and come back.
I'll give you a few minutes.
Welcome back. The mission of Team RWB, quite literally, is to enrich the lives of veterans through physical and social activity. A few people near and dear to me are involved and it seems like something I'd enjoy being a part of too!
Got together for a quick Team RWB picture which lead into a 25 minute delay in race start due to some unlawful parking situation that needed rectified prior to unleashing the masses. I.E. people parked on the course and their cars got towed.
...and Go time baby!
Lee immediately took off. Obviously. He's WAY faster than I. I started running at a seemingly comfortable pace but a quick glance at the watch a few minutes into the run revealed it was likely a non-sustainable pace. First mile was 7:10. I was hoping to hold a 7:37 pace that would put me at a 1:40 finish time (and also nearly a 3 minute PR), so I made a conscious effort to slow my role. I was able to hold a 7:27 pace until roughly mile 6. I had been running pretty well, I was trailing a girl going exactly my speed and every so often I was seeing Lee so I was pretty happy at that point. There was the occasional uncomfortable stomach feeling, but overall not bad considering how the morning began.
The course started intermittently changing terrain and directions with a bunch of out and backs and 180 degree turns. That didn't help with maintaining any kind of momentum! I was stronger than my unknown running friend on the "hills" and I'd nearly pass her but then my pace would quickly drop which made me nervous my legs wouldn't hold up. I dropped a gel somewhere in mile 6-7 and going back to get it as well as eating it added around 20 seconds and I guess my legs just figured it was time to check out and I never quite got them back.
My stomach really took a nose-dive around mile 8 - coincidently (or not) it was roughly around the time that my legs decided they were done racing for the day. I had a few spells of dry heaving and I only ended up eating 1/2 of the salted caramel Gu (my normal go-to flavor). My legs made a quick appearance after the Gu but it was short-lived. I knew I wanted the other Gu around mile 10, but I had a gut feeling (ooooh jokes!) that if I tried to eat it, I'd actually start throwing-up. I think the Gu would've made my legs feel better, but I'm pretty confident I made the right decision to abandon any and all nutrition.
The gatorade v. water debacle of 2015 was a little stressful on my upset stomach. Let the record state that I am not calling out the volunteers because those people are amazing and awesome for giving up their morning to help out. However, at each aid station, some people would yell "water" and I swear I actually saw their lips moving to form the word but then they handed me gatorade. I don't love gatorade when I'm running halves, I'd much prefer water. My turbulent stomach was also in favor of flavorless liquids. The fourth time this happened, I strongly considered having an over-the-top meltdown that involved chucking cups of gatorade and flipping over the cup-laden tables. I quickly reconsidered and continued running sans fluids. At the last 2 aid stations, I just asked for water and they found some quickly, so alls well ends... well, not well, but ends, sure.
The last two miles nearly ended me. I was silently willing my legs to continue moving forward but they felt like tree trunks taking root in the earth. I'd valiantly try to speed up and my lap pace would slow down. I looked down to make sure I hadn't started running backwards. I was confused. Um, hello, legs? Anything? Bueller? Okay.
Finally, I recognized the last bridge... curse you incline. As I tried to overcome the nearly stationary running position I was currently perfecting, I looked down at my watch and realized that 1:40 mark was about to fly past. I love re-evaluating goals with less than a quarter mile to go. Just get in under 1:41 - PLEASE!
The finish line appeared like a vision of water in the desert. Angels began singing. Maybe that was the music at the finish line. I'm not sure, toss up.
I got my medal, saw Lee and he ushered me onto the grass, presumably so I didn't throw up on any innocent spectators. I appreciated the gesture as I too wished to avoid public vomiting. After a few minutes that involved breaking a cold sweat while willing myself to keep my 1/2 Gu and undesired yellow gatorade in the tank, I recovered and rejoined the group.
At that moment, a lot of thoughts went through my head fairly rapidly as if in fast forward mode. Hey, a PR! Gotta be pleased with that. And no throwing up! And... and... aw man, 7th in my age group! Those girls are speedy! Chocolate chip cookies? Hell yes! Am I gonna throw up? Maybe! Okay, no more cookies! Water only forever!
All in all, it was a decent race but I didn't love the course. The weather however was BEAUTIFUL and it was a perfect morning for running. You don't get many of those perfect early summer mornings so I try to enjoy them when they sneak up on us.
End goal for the year if I run another half: break 1:39. 1:38:59. There I said it out loud, its official. No turning back now. Next race is the Grand Rapids Tri, T minus 3 weeks till REUNION. More on that soon.
Got to the race start (right outside the US Patent Office) and joined up with the Team RWB. If you don't know who they are - you should.
Go look it up and come back.
I'll give you a few minutes.
Welcome back. The mission of Team RWB, quite literally, is to enrich the lives of veterans through physical and social activity. A few people near and dear to me are involved and it seems like something I'd enjoy being a part of too!
Got together for a quick Team RWB picture which lead into a 25 minute delay in race start due to some unlawful parking situation that needed rectified prior to unleashing the masses. I.E. people parked on the course and their cars got towed.
...and Go time baby!
Lee immediately took off. Obviously. He's WAY faster than I. I started running at a seemingly comfortable pace but a quick glance at the watch a few minutes into the run revealed it was likely a non-sustainable pace. First mile was 7:10. I was hoping to hold a 7:37 pace that would put me at a 1:40 finish time (and also nearly a 3 minute PR), so I made a conscious effort to slow my role. I was able to hold a 7:27 pace until roughly mile 6. I had been running pretty well, I was trailing a girl going exactly my speed and every so often I was seeing Lee so I was pretty happy at that point. There was the occasional uncomfortable stomach feeling, but overall not bad considering how the morning began.
The course started intermittently changing terrain and directions with a bunch of out and backs and 180 degree turns. That didn't help with maintaining any kind of momentum! I was stronger than my unknown running friend on the "hills" and I'd nearly pass her but then my pace would quickly drop which made me nervous my legs wouldn't hold up. I dropped a gel somewhere in mile 6-7 and going back to get it as well as eating it added around 20 seconds and I guess my legs just figured it was time to check out and I never quite got them back.
My stomach really took a nose-dive around mile 8 - coincidently (or not) it was roughly around the time that my legs decided they were done racing for the day. I had a few spells of dry heaving and I only ended up eating 1/2 of the salted caramel Gu (my normal go-to flavor). My legs made a quick appearance after the Gu but it was short-lived. I knew I wanted the other Gu around mile 10, but I had a gut feeling (ooooh jokes!) that if I tried to eat it, I'd actually start throwing-up. I think the Gu would've made my legs feel better, but I'm pretty confident I made the right decision to abandon any and all nutrition.
The gatorade v. water debacle of 2015 was a little stressful on my upset stomach. Let the record state that I am not calling out the volunteers because those people are amazing and awesome for giving up their morning to help out. However, at each aid station, some people would yell "water" and I swear I actually saw their lips moving to form the word but then they handed me gatorade. I don't love gatorade when I'm running halves, I'd much prefer water. My turbulent stomach was also in favor of flavorless liquids. The fourth time this happened, I strongly considered having an over-the-top meltdown that involved chucking cups of gatorade and flipping over the cup-laden tables. I quickly reconsidered and continued running sans fluids. At the last 2 aid stations, I just asked for water and they found some quickly, so alls well ends... well, not well, but ends, sure.
The last two miles nearly ended me. I was silently willing my legs to continue moving forward but they felt like tree trunks taking root in the earth. I'd valiantly try to speed up and my lap pace would slow down. I looked down to make sure I hadn't started running backwards. I was confused. Um, hello, legs? Anything? Bueller? Okay.
Finally, I recognized the last bridge... curse you incline. As I tried to overcome the nearly stationary running position I was currently perfecting, I looked down at my watch and realized that 1:40 mark was about to fly past. I love re-evaluating goals with less than a quarter mile to go. Just get in under 1:41 - PLEASE!
The finish line appeared like a vision of water in the desert. Angels began singing. Maybe that was the music at the finish line. I'm not sure, toss up.
I got my medal, saw Lee and he ushered me onto the grass, presumably so I didn't throw up on any innocent spectators. I appreciated the gesture as I too wished to avoid public vomiting. After a few minutes that involved breaking a cold sweat while willing myself to keep my 1/2 Gu and undesired yellow gatorade in the tank, I recovered and rejoined the group.
At that moment, a lot of thoughts went through my head fairly rapidly as if in fast forward mode. Hey, a PR! Gotta be pleased with that. And no throwing up! And... and... aw man, 7th in my age group! Those girls are speedy! Chocolate chip cookies? Hell yes! Am I gonna throw up? Maybe! Okay, no more cookies! Water only forever!
All in all, it was a decent race but I didn't love the course. The weather however was BEAUTIFUL and it was a perfect morning for running. You don't get many of those perfect early summer mornings so I try to enjoy them when they sneak up on us.
End goal for the year if I run another half: break 1:39. 1:38:59. There I said it out loud, its official. No turning back now. Next race is the Grand Rapids Tri, T minus 3 weeks till REUNION. More on that soon.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Race Recap: Monticelloman 70.3
AKA First half-iron of the year = a lesson in perseverance and a painful look into the core of my soul.
Let's go back, shall we?
So, last weekend was the first "significant" race of the year. I say significant only because of the distance. It was only my third race at this distance. I wasn't expecting greatness per say, but I was curious to see where I was sitting at this point in the year. I didn't train crazy hard in the off-season, but I was pretty consistent and I was hoping to be ahead of where I was at this point a year ago. I had been working on thedevil's sport bike during the last few months and was hopeful that I was making progress.
We drove down Saturday morning after running some last minute errands, about a 2 hour drive, fairly uneventful. Drove straight to the venue for packet pick up and a quick ride/run - it was a GORGEOUS day. Got the bikes put back together (though, lets be quite honest, I supervised the re-assembly of bikes) and went out for a quick 20 minute ride. Immediately, my right quad cramped up and I felt like I was getting zero power out of that leg. Both legs felt cramped, like my seat was too short (and it was put back exactly where it was at before), but the right quad was hard as a rock and really tight. The hills were rough with the state of my leg and all I could think about was "I have to do FIFTY-SIX MILES like this tomorrow?!" The end of the ride involved a short steep hill and I was too busy thinking about my leg to consider shifting at a logically appropriate time that I started up that hill in a huge gear and proceeded to almost stop short. I tried to shift, apparently failed, and then my quad said "OH HELL NO" and seized up into a ball of angry muscle. I came to an abrupt stop on the hill as all these cars were descending and I felt like every single one of them watching was thinking "look at this amateur who doesn't know how to ride a bike." And, quite honestly, they were totally correct. I looked like an idiot. Seeing as this is my usual state of being, I shook it off and made two valiant attempts to continue up the hill but with no momentum, I was looking even more foolish so I headed down the hill only to turn around and head right back up. Get this girl a cookie, she just won the day...
Set out on a short run and immediately, my right leg went alarmingly numb. My quad continued to be ridiculously tight and now my toes were tingling and losing sensation. WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON WITH MY BODY?
I tried not to dwell on it. I tried to enjoy the quick jaunt around the course but scrolling through the megatron in the back of my mind was "tomorrow is going to be an epic failure. you're a hot mess and the lower half of your body just went AWOL so tomorrows going to suck."
We had an internal chat. It went something like this: "Listen here self. I'm confused by our current predicament, but we know we're going to finish the race tomorrow even if we're cursing every mile. We know we're giddy to be racing again so let's get ourselves together and have a little fun."
Back at the hotel, I rolled my leg for awhile, I alternated between the stick and the foam roller. I grabbed the diclofenac cream and slathered it on. I drank water, then gatorade, then more water. I stretched. If I sucked tomorrow, it wasn't going to be because I ignored this new weird little injury.
Dinner was delicious. I had the pleasure of dining with the Snapple team (goal: get on this team next year). I had linguine with clams in white wine sauce - the usual go-to. Drank one beer and approximately 7 gallons of water.
Slept decently. Proceeded to wake up and feel completely out of sorts.
Thankfully, I had all my stuff packed from the night before. Put on the new SOAS team kit for the first time (Love it). Got my drinks together, my nutrition in a bag. I was as ready as I could be. Angry quad was no longer screaming at me - it was holding steady at a dull roar that I knew I'd be able to deal with. Pleased with the improvement, I was ready to head out. Once we parked and put the bikes together (still rocking the supervisor role mind you), I headed down to transition and realized I had left my banana and the majority of my blueberry bagel in the car. Jogged up to the car only to realize I was on the wrong street. Found the car only to realize that Lee was gone.
Repeat after me - YOU ARE A HOT MESS.
Rechecked my transition area, thought about applying sunscreen and immediately forgot, which proceeded straight into thinking about applying body glide only to see Lee and forget about that too. He graciously ran to get my banana and life was good again.
Wetsuit on, check. Head to water, check. Oh, everyone's out of the water and I don't have time to jump in. No problem! Who needs a warm-up??
Luckily we got to hang in the water for a few minutes before starting. Water was a good temperature, but I knew my feet would be numb pretty quick (those poor puppies are sensitive to cold).
Aaaaaand... GO.
Swim swim swim swim swim. Followed a girl going exactly the speed I wanted to go who was holding a remarkably straight line. Its always a crap shoot when I try to follow someone - sometimes its hard to sight when you're a few diopters away from being legally blind and your contacts suck. But I won the drafting lottery with this girl. She had a great straight up right arm stroke so she was easy to keep in sight if i sat just next to her. I tried to pass her a few times and speed up but each time we cruised into a sea of orange caps (the men ahead of us) and it was easier to sit behind her and let her find a line through the mess of men.
Finished the swim in a decent time, nothing spectacular, but I was satisfied since I didn't feel tired. Tried to have a quick transition (my usual downfall) and headed out on the bike.
Nearly immediately, I knew it wasn't going to be a spectacular ride - my neck twinged as I rode up the first hill and that's always negative predictor for the rest of the ride. Considering we were at mile 3 or something, I got a little nervous. Every weird feeling in my neck (though not entirely painful at this point) made my stomach a little queasy. 56 miles isn't incredibly difficult. 56 hillier-than-I'm-used-to miles isn't too much worse. However, 56 hillier-than-I'm-used-to miles with a messed up neck is pretty damn miserable. Around mile 10, the painful neck reared its ugly head and quitting crossed my mind. I'm not a quitter, I've never quit a race and very very rarely do I quit workouts, but I thought about it. While I did the incredibly difficult equation that is 56-10=46, I thought about how the next 46 miles were going to feel if I already wanted to pull over and cry.
Suck it up baby.
So, I stretched as best as I could without stopping. I stopped using the aerobars. Nothing was helping. I popped more ibuprofen. No relief. I tried thinking of funny things that make me laugh. I tried smiling (thank God, none of this is on tape). This part is funny only because after the race a woman commented about how happy I looked racing near the end of the second loop. If she only knew.
We quickly arrived at my favorite point in the downward spiral of this neck pain (about mile 26)- the point where it starts to hurt to use my right arm. I'm talking about the part that involves trying to extend my right arm to the end of my aerobars to shift. This is also the part where tears pop out of my eyes without warning and where I audibly grunt from how ridiculously awful I feel.
Approached the halfway point. This is where it got a bit hilly again. My legs got a workout from my lack of shifting, screw trying to save my legs to run - those suckers were gonna work those hills because I was not about to start shifting like a normal person. I was trying to keep my upper half in some sort of position that I could maintain with less pain. It was hit or miss with that one.
Mile 40-ish, I tried aero again. OH DEAR MOTHER OF GOD was that a terrible awful no-good very bad idea. It felt like 100 burning needles jabbing into my lower neck/upper back. Back to that upright position.
I kept zoning in and out of race mode. Id think about something completely unrelated to the race, slow down, get passed, realize what I was doing, re-pass that person only to fall back into the dreamy mind-set where I wasn't painful and was off the bike. I was practically drooling over the time when I'd get to put on my running shoes and RUN while forgetting about the past 3 sad hours.
Finally, FINALLY, it was over. I tried to re-rack the bike and epically failed. It took me 2 or 3 attempts because i could get the baby raised more than two inches off the ground thanks to my stunning lack of strength from the right side of my body. Shoes, visors, race-belt. check, check, check.
Run time... happy time. This is the part I knew I can do. However this came to be, I always make up time running. I think thats probably my strong suit now. I can usually run off the bike pretty well, at least compared to many in the age group. I felt better, though incredibly stiff in my neck. Standing upright made much of the pain disappear but I wasn't totally comfortable. First mile was 7:36. Slow down Prochnow. I ended up pretty consistently at 8:15-8:20/mile. Slower than usual, but definitely the hilliest course I've ever done.
Just before the turn-around, I approached a guy running a touch slower than I. I passed him going into the water station (I walked all the water stations since I knew I wasn't going to PR-ing and it was a refreshing little break), and he caught up to me. The next 4 miles were Iron-war style running. I'd speed up a touch, he'd stay with me. He'd speed up, I'd pick up the pace to hang with him. With three miles to go, I had a flash of Mark-Allen-like inspiration at a water stop and grabbed the water and went for it. When you can't have the race you were hoping for, its the little victories that matter, right?
The final miles were uneventful, just kept the pace to finish. I wanted to see my friends, I wanted to collapse in a heap on the grass... I wanted to be done. It wasn't a fun race. It was test of my mental fortitude and a glimpse into a dark place that I'd prefer to avoid from now on.
I ended up third overall, a real shocker considering the mess that involved the previous 5 1/2 hours. I got a pint glass and a decently nice duffle bag as a prize (sweet free stuff). Minutes later, in true Heather fashion, I dropped the glass on the pavement and it busted into 75 pieces. Are we surprised? They nicely gave me a replacement glass since I had gone all of 100 feet from the boxes containing the extra glasses.
Drove home. Saw Avengers. Lovely way to end the weekend. Actual racing aside, it was a really good weekend...
Let's go back, shall we?
So, last weekend was the first "significant" race of the year. I say significant only because of the distance. It was only my third race at this distance. I wasn't expecting greatness per say, but I was curious to see where I was sitting at this point in the year. I didn't train crazy hard in the off-season, but I was pretty consistent and I was hoping to be ahead of where I was at this point a year ago. I had been working on the
We drove down Saturday morning after running some last minute errands, about a 2 hour drive, fairly uneventful. Drove straight to the venue for packet pick up and a quick ride/run - it was a GORGEOUS day. Got the bikes put back together (though, lets be quite honest, I supervised the re-assembly of bikes) and went out for a quick 20 minute ride. Immediately, my right quad cramped up and I felt like I was getting zero power out of that leg. Both legs felt cramped, like my seat was too short (and it was put back exactly where it was at before), but the right quad was hard as a rock and really tight. The hills were rough with the state of my leg and all I could think about was "I have to do FIFTY-SIX MILES like this tomorrow?!" The end of the ride involved a short steep hill and I was too busy thinking about my leg to consider shifting at a logically appropriate time that I started up that hill in a huge gear and proceeded to almost stop short. I tried to shift, apparently failed, and then my quad said "OH HELL NO" and seized up into a ball of angry muscle. I came to an abrupt stop on the hill as all these cars were descending and I felt like every single one of them watching was thinking "look at this amateur who doesn't know how to ride a bike." And, quite honestly, they were totally correct. I looked like an idiot. Seeing as this is my usual state of being, I shook it off and made two valiant attempts to continue up the hill but with no momentum, I was looking even more foolish so I headed down the hill only to turn around and head right back up. Get this girl a cookie, she just won the day...
Set out on a short run and immediately, my right leg went alarmingly numb. My quad continued to be ridiculously tight and now my toes were tingling and losing sensation. WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON WITH MY BODY?
I tried not to dwell on it. I tried to enjoy the quick jaunt around the course but scrolling through the megatron in the back of my mind was "tomorrow is going to be an epic failure. you're a hot mess and the lower half of your body just went AWOL so tomorrows going to suck."
We had an internal chat. It went something like this: "Listen here self. I'm confused by our current predicament, but we know we're going to finish the race tomorrow even if we're cursing every mile. We know we're giddy to be racing again so let's get ourselves together and have a little fun."
Back at the hotel, I rolled my leg for awhile, I alternated between the stick and the foam roller. I grabbed the diclofenac cream and slathered it on. I drank water, then gatorade, then more water. I stretched. If I sucked tomorrow, it wasn't going to be because I ignored this new weird little injury.
Dinner was delicious. I had the pleasure of dining with the Snapple team (goal: get on this team next year). I had linguine with clams in white wine sauce - the usual go-to. Drank one beer and approximately 7 gallons of water.
Slept decently. Proceeded to wake up and feel completely out of sorts.
Thankfully, I had all my stuff packed from the night before. Put on the new SOAS team kit for the first time (Love it). Got my drinks together, my nutrition in a bag. I was as ready as I could be. Angry quad was no longer screaming at me - it was holding steady at a dull roar that I knew I'd be able to deal with. Pleased with the improvement, I was ready to head out. Once we parked and put the bikes together (still rocking the supervisor role mind you), I headed down to transition and realized I had left my banana and the majority of my blueberry bagel in the car. Jogged up to the car only to realize I was on the wrong street. Found the car only to realize that Lee was gone.
Repeat after me - YOU ARE A HOT MESS.
Rechecked my transition area, thought about applying sunscreen and immediately forgot, which proceeded straight into thinking about applying body glide only to see Lee and forget about that too. He graciously ran to get my banana and life was good again.
Wetsuit on, check. Head to water, check. Oh, everyone's out of the water and I don't have time to jump in. No problem! Who needs a warm-up??
Luckily we got to hang in the water for a few minutes before starting. Water was a good temperature, but I knew my feet would be numb pretty quick (those poor puppies are sensitive to cold).
Aaaaaand... GO.
Swim swim swim swim swim. Followed a girl going exactly the speed I wanted to go who was holding a remarkably straight line. Its always a crap shoot when I try to follow someone - sometimes its hard to sight when you're a few diopters away from being legally blind and your contacts suck. But I won the drafting lottery with this girl. She had a great straight up right arm stroke so she was easy to keep in sight if i sat just next to her. I tried to pass her a few times and speed up but each time we cruised into a sea of orange caps (the men ahead of us) and it was easier to sit behind her and let her find a line through the mess of men.
Finished the swim in a decent time, nothing spectacular, but I was satisfied since I didn't feel tired. Tried to have a quick transition (my usual downfall) and headed out on the bike.
Nearly immediately, I knew it wasn't going to be a spectacular ride - my neck twinged as I rode up the first hill and that's always negative predictor for the rest of the ride. Considering we were at mile 3 or something, I got a little nervous. Every weird feeling in my neck (though not entirely painful at this point) made my stomach a little queasy. 56 miles isn't incredibly difficult. 56 hillier-than-I'm-used-to miles isn't too much worse. However, 56 hillier-than-I'm-used-to miles with a messed up neck is pretty damn miserable. Around mile 10, the painful neck reared its ugly head and quitting crossed my mind. I'm not a quitter, I've never quit a race and very very rarely do I quit workouts, but I thought about it. While I did the incredibly difficult equation that is 56-10=46, I thought about how the next 46 miles were going to feel if I already wanted to pull over and cry.
Suck it up baby.
So, I stretched as best as I could without stopping. I stopped using the aerobars. Nothing was helping. I popped more ibuprofen. No relief. I tried thinking of funny things that make me laugh. I tried smiling (thank God, none of this is on tape). This part is funny only because after the race a woman commented about how happy I looked racing near the end of the second loop. If she only knew.
We quickly arrived at my favorite point in the downward spiral of this neck pain (about mile 26)- the point where it starts to hurt to use my right arm. I'm talking about the part that involves trying to extend my right arm to the end of my aerobars to shift. This is also the part where tears pop out of my eyes without warning and where I audibly grunt from how ridiculously awful I feel.
Approached the halfway point. This is where it got a bit hilly again. My legs got a workout from my lack of shifting, screw trying to save my legs to run - those suckers were gonna work those hills because I was not about to start shifting like a normal person. I was trying to keep my upper half in some sort of position that I could maintain with less pain. It was hit or miss with that one.
Mile 40-ish, I tried aero again. OH DEAR MOTHER OF GOD was that a terrible awful no-good very bad idea. It felt like 100 burning needles jabbing into my lower neck/upper back. Back to that upright position.
I kept zoning in and out of race mode. Id think about something completely unrelated to the race, slow down, get passed, realize what I was doing, re-pass that person only to fall back into the dreamy mind-set where I wasn't painful and was off the bike. I was practically drooling over the time when I'd get to put on my running shoes and RUN while forgetting about the past 3 sad hours.
Finally, FINALLY, it was over. I tried to re-rack the bike and epically failed. It took me 2 or 3 attempts because i could get the baby raised more than two inches off the ground thanks to my stunning lack of strength from the right side of my body. Shoes, visors, race-belt. check, check, check.
Run time... happy time. This is the part I knew I can do. However this came to be, I always make up time running. I think thats probably my strong suit now. I can usually run off the bike pretty well, at least compared to many in the age group. I felt better, though incredibly stiff in my neck. Standing upright made much of the pain disappear but I wasn't totally comfortable. First mile was 7:36. Slow down Prochnow. I ended up pretty consistently at 8:15-8:20/mile. Slower than usual, but definitely the hilliest course I've ever done.
Just before the turn-around, I approached a guy running a touch slower than I. I passed him going into the water station (I walked all the water stations since I knew I wasn't going to PR-ing and it was a refreshing little break), and he caught up to me. The next 4 miles were Iron-war style running. I'd speed up a touch, he'd stay with me. He'd speed up, I'd pick up the pace to hang with him. With three miles to go, I had a flash of Mark-Allen-like inspiration at a water stop and grabbed the water and went for it. When you can't have the race you were hoping for, its the little victories that matter, right?
The final miles were uneventful, just kept the pace to finish. I wanted to see my friends, I wanted to collapse in a heap on the grass... I wanted to be done. It wasn't a fun race. It was test of my mental fortitude and a glimpse into a dark place that I'd prefer to avoid from now on.
I ended up third overall, a real shocker considering the mess that involved the previous 5 1/2 hours. I got a pint glass and a decently nice duffle bag as a prize (sweet free stuff). Minutes later, in true Heather fashion, I dropped the glass on the pavement and it busted into 75 pieces. Are we surprised? They nicely gave me a replacement glass since I had gone all of 100 feet from the boxes containing the extra glasses.
Drove home. Saw Avengers. Lovely way to end the weekend. Actual racing aside, it was a really good weekend...
Thursday, April 30, 2015
On being an athlete. With a uterus. And over-the-top graphic descriptions of a doctor's visit.
So life's been busy. Training, working. Went to a couple Washington National's game (hello, awesome - its been a LONG TIME since I lived close to any semblance of a professional sports team). And this week I decided to get those pesky doctor's appointments out of the way - primary care, dermatologist, and GYN. Ahhh, the GYN.
disclaimer to my non-existent following: If you don't wish to read about the adventures of my uterus (you heard it here folks), then you might want to stop. right. here. no, seriously.
I've been on the pill for the better half of my adult life. And I've been good about taking it as directed for approximately 1/15th of that time period. I'll at least say this - Mom, you aren't a grandmother, though you'd probably like to be. But I'm calling the last 15 years a win for me.
I sat down and had a conversation with myself the other day. It started out like this: Self, you're awesome (I usually like to start these conversations on a positive, complimentary note). And you might consider procreating in the future. And I mean in the near-er future, not the very far-away future because let's consider science. Also, Self, you're really having a good year so far and pregnancy would alter the current trajectory of your triathlon "career". Do you want kids? Maybe. Today? No.
So after our life chat (which occurred in the shower of all places), I decided I needed to up the ante on the birth control game. Because pregnancy is not game I wish to win. Or lose? Hm.
I did some research. I read things. I also came across a semi-interesting blog post about how menstrual cycles screw around with training/racing (this never occurred to me and in my three minute retroactive study that is the last year of my life, I couldn't come up with an logical period/triathlon relationship). The IUD sometimes causes a cease in actual periods too so I was all for that because racing/training with a period can straight up suck.
I arrived at the GYN armed with a few printed out lines of information about IUDs. She came in, we chatted about life for a quick minute and my less than perfect PAP smear record (still not dying yet). Then we got around to talking about divorce and how for the last 15 years of my life, I've been unable to get on a schedule where I take a daily pill. Cue children talk. Then - hey, I have a wacky idea, how about that new IUD? She was totally on board and was like, oh hey by the way, lets do it today.
Sign me up doc, I like your thinking, lets get this done with. I'm getting a bit chilly in this salmon-colored-sheet-with-strings-that-I'm-sure-are-meant-to-be-tied-but-I-haven't-quite-figure-that-out-yet-so-I'm-wrapping-it-around-me-like-a-weird-kimono.
She hits me with "we usually have you take handfuls of motrin before the procedure because it can hurt and be quite uncomfortable for awhile after it is inserted."
I hit her back with "I'm tough, I'm sure I've been through worse and I've lived to tell yet another sarcastic joke so lets just set this up RIGHT NOW, shall we? Quit wasting time, you're scaring me."
They end up bringing me 2 packets of motrin (I thank the good lord for any relief this later provided me) and a cup of water which I downed quickly so as to get the show on the road.
We do the normal female exam bit - speculum, swabs, feeling around for ovaries (yep, they're there. nope, not painful). Breast exam (so what if it only took 3 seconds, I'm streamlined for speed!)
For reference, I laugh about my small boobs often. They don't bother me a lot but I'm a little self-conscious about them, so I make jokes. That being said...
We've now arrived at the IUD portion of the show. Here's how this works - you "ideally" need a uterus that is 6cm long for this to be placed correctly. Mirena is bigger in size than Skyla so I went with Skyla (also because Skyla is good up to 3 years v. 5 years, though you can remove them at any time if you choose to forego a childless existance). She has a special ruler that she uses to measure the length of your uterus ONLY AFTER SHE TELLS YOU TO COUGH SO SHE CAN CLAMP DOWN ON THAT PESKY CERVIX.
"haha, the cough was just a cover up so I could grab a piece of your already messed up reproductive tissue."
OH. MY. DEAR. GOD. WOMAN!
I realize it was just a quick pain and then we were good again, so it was time to measure some organs.
It felt.. like cramps. Which quickly escalated into a pain that I can only compare to a red hot poker jabbing into your abdomen. I actually made an audible cry when that happened and she pulls out the ruler and says, "huh".
I mean, I'm no gynecologist. But seeing as I am an actual doctor, I don't believe my clients want to hear me say that at any time during the exam. Or ever.
We're barely reaching 5cm. GOAL=6cm. She then insults my poor aching uterus by calling it "puny" and "short" and "tiny". At that point, the thought crossed my mind that not only do I have the boobs of a preteen girl, but I've been walking around in public with the uterus of a preteen girl. Am I really 30 years old? Mom? I'm pretty good at basic addition and 1984 seems to have occurred roughly 3 decades ago. Yet, for whatever reason, my body really wants to hang out in the immediately post-Y2K universe.
There was some more speculum work and hemming and hawing about the logistics of giving this child-like creature in front of her long term birth control. I started to feel pretty light headed and nauseous, so she made an appreciable snap decision.
This is the part where I really started to appreciate my new GYN and found a kindred spirit in her. Basically, she says, fuck it. We're doing this anyway and if it works, great. If it doesn't, then when you come back in a month, we'll fix it for you.
The actual implantation of the IUD was uneventful. My uterus was already burning so this didn't really do more than add a few twigs to the existing fire.
After that, we were done. I felt like throwing up and she assured me that this and the horribly intense cramping was normal. I walked out bent over at the waist at a reasonable 90 degree angle (it hurt to stand up straight) while no one gave me a second glance.
I limped down to my car (because now my whole body felt like it'd been through a UFC fight), got in and sat. Uncomfortably. Luckily, I live a mile or so away, so I drove home without passing out (success) and proceeded to lay on my couch moaning in agony while Jazz slowly crept toward me, obviously concerned that she was about to be orphaned.
Luckily, I had already done a semi-intense brick workout and had a less-than-intense swim workout planned. That plan immediately went in the trash when I passed out on the couch for two hours. I woke up feeling marginally better. Good enough that I could drive, ride the metro, and go to the Nats game. The fact that I ate pizza, cheese fries, and 3 beers only means that I was not, in fact, dead. When I stop having an appetite, its probably time to put me down.
The moral of the story is this: despite the agony of the experience, the whole IUD song and dance was completely worth it. And if the icing on the cake is no periods, then fabulous. That makes training and life easier.
I feel like we've all become closer now that you've heard about my gynecological struggles. Thanks for the support! Until next time...
disclaimer to my non-existent following: If you don't wish to read about the adventures of my uterus (you heard it here folks), then you might want to stop. right. here. no, seriously.
I've been on the pill for the better half of my adult life. And I've been good about taking it as directed for approximately 1/15th of that time period. I'll at least say this - Mom, you aren't a grandmother, though you'd probably like to be. But I'm calling the last 15 years a win for me.
I sat down and had a conversation with myself the other day. It started out like this: Self, you're awesome (I usually like to start these conversations on a positive, complimentary note). And you might consider procreating in the future. And I mean in the near-er future, not the very far-away future because let's consider science. Also, Self, you're really having a good year so far and pregnancy would alter the current trajectory of your triathlon "career". Do you want kids? Maybe. Today? No.
So after our life chat (which occurred in the shower of all places), I decided I needed to up the ante on the birth control game. Because pregnancy is not game I wish to win. Or lose? Hm.
I did some research. I read things. I also came across a semi-interesting blog post about how menstrual cycles screw around with training/racing (this never occurred to me and in my three minute retroactive study that is the last year of my life, I couldn't come up with an logical period/triathlon relationship). The IUD sometimes causes a cease in actual periods too so I was all for that because racing/training with a period can straight up suck.
I arrived at the GYN armed with a few printed out lines of information about IUDs. She came in, we chatted about life for a quick minute and my less than perfect PAP smear record (still not dying yet). Then we got around to talking about divorce and how for the last 15 years of my life, I've been unable to get on a schedule where I take a daily pill. Cue children talk. Then - hey, I have a wacky idea, how about that new IUD? She was totally on board and was like, oh hey by the way, lets do it today.
Sign me up doc, I like your thinking, lets get this done with. I'm getting a bit chilly in this salmon-colored-sheet-with-strings-that-I'm-sure-are-meant-to-be-tied-but-I-haven't-quite-figure-that-out-yet-so-I'm-wrapping-it-around-me-like-a-weird-kimono.
She hits me with "we usually have you take handfuls of motrin before the procedure because it can hurt and be quite uncomfortable for awhile after it is inserted."
I hit her back with "I'm tough, I'm sure I've been through worse and I've lived to tell yet another sarcastic joke so lets just set this up RIGHT NOW, shall we? Quit wasting time, you're scaring me."
They end up bringing me 2 packets of motrin (I thank the good lord for any relief this later provided me) and a cup of water which I downed quickly so as to get the show on the road.
We do the normal female exam bit - speculum, swabs, feeling around for ovaries (yep, they're there. nope, not painful). Breast exam (so what if it only took 3 seconds, I'm streamlined for speed!)
For reference, I laugh about my small boobs often. They don't bother me a lot but I'm a little self-conscious about them, so I make jokes. That being said...
We've now arrived at the IUD portion of the show. Here's how this works - you "ideally" need a uterus that is 6cm long for this to be placed correctly. Mirena is bigger in size than Skyla so I went with Skyla (also because Skyla is good up to 3 years v. 5 years, though you can remove them at any time if you choose to forego a childless existance). She has a special ruler that she uses to measure the length of your uterus ONLY AFTER SHE TELLS YOU TO COUGH SO SHE CAN CLAMP DOWN ON THAT PESKY CERVIX.
"haha, the cough was just a cover up so I could grab a piece of your already messed up reproductive tissue."
OH. MY. DEAR. GOD. WOMAN!
I realize it was just a quick pain and then we were good again, so it was time to measure some organs.
It felt.. like cramps. Which quickly escalated into a pain that I can only compare to a red hot poker jabbing into your abdomen. I actually made an audible cry when that happened and she pulls out the ruler and says, "huh".
I mean, I'm no gynecologist. But seeing as I am an actual doctor, I don't believe my clients want to hear me say that at any time during the exam. Or ever.
We're barely reaching 5cm. GOAL=6cm. She then insults my poor aching uterus by calling it "puny" and "short" and "tiny". At that point, the thought crossed my mind that not only do I have the boobs of a preteen girl, but I've been walking around in public with the uterus of a preteen girl. Am I really 30 years old? Mom? I'm pretty good at basic addition and 1984 seems to have occurred roughly 3 decades ago. Yet, for whatever reason, my body really wants to hang out in the immediately post-Y2K universe.
There was some more speculum work and hemming and hawing about the logistics of giving this child-like creature in front of her long term birth control. I started to feel pretty light headed and nauseous, so she made an appreciable snap decision.
This is the part where I really started to appreciate my new GYN and found a kindred spirit in her. Basically, she says, fuck it. We're doing this anyway and if it works, great. If it doesn't, then when you come back in a month, we'll fix it for you.
The actual implantation of the IUD was uneventful. My uterus was already burning so this didn't really do more than add a few twigs to the existing fire.
After that, we were done. I felt like throwing up and she assured me that this and the horribly intense cramping was normal. I walked out bent over at the waist at a reasonable 90 degree angle (it hurt to stand up straight) while no one gave me a second glance.
I limped down to my car (because now my whole body felt like it'd been through a UFC fight), got in and sat. Uncomfortably. Luckily, I live a mile or so away, so I drove home without passing out (success) and proceeded to lay on my couch moaning in agony while Jazz slowly crept toward me, obviously concerned that she was about to be orphaned.
Luckily, I had already done a semi-intense brick workout and had a less-than-intense swim workout planned. That plan immediately went in the trash when I passed out on the couch for two hours. I woke up feeling marginally better. Good enough that I could drive, ride the metro, and go to the Nats game. The fact that I ate pizza, cheese fries, and 3 beers only means that I was not, in fact, dead. When I stop having an appetite, its probably time to put me down.
The moral of the story is this: despite the agony of the experience, the whole IUD song and dance was completely worth it. And if the icing on the cake is no periods, then fabulous. That makes training and life easier.
I feel like we've all become closer now that you've heard about my gynecological struggles. Thanks for the support! Until next time...
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Week 2 (sleep is important, you should do it more often)
Sometimes its difficult to find the happy balance between long work days and training. I find I'm exhausted some days and energetic on others. I know I haven't been sleeping great, falling asleep too often on my couch and not making it to my actual bed which is less than 40 feet away. Right? Its stupid. And lazy. Do better Prochnow. Just... sleep like an normal human being. its not rocket science.
Monday: REST DAY
Tuesday: track workout
1.5 mile warm up
4 x 400m, 1 min rest
1 lap easy recovery jog
4 x 300m (jog last 100 to start line), 0:45 rest
1 lap easy recovery jog
4 x 200m, 0:30 rest
1 mile cool down
I'm not entirely sure about times or pacing to be quite honest. it was quick, felt good. no aches/pains. weather warmed up slightly from the previous week at least! my track buddy and i ran the whole thing together. its pretty awesome to have someone that is so similar in ability to do these weekly workouts with - makes it fun and competitive.
Wednesday: 1:00 swim, 3325y
300 warm up
5x75 (25 drill, 25 free, 25 drill)
3 x (300, 200, 100, 50 with 0:15 rest in between, faster with each interval)
20x25 IM order on 0:30
200 cool down
felt slow as hell at the beginning and for the first run of the main set. I actually looked at my watch and couldn't believe how slow I was... not a great sign. told myself to buck up and not be tired, so i did the 2nd set faster and the 3rd set a bit faster even. felt like a had put in a decent workout by the end, though i was just generally tired.
Thursday: 1:00 hill repeats
10 min warm up, 20 min tempo run at 7:40/mi, 5 x 3min uphill run up and down, so took about 5:45 or less each time.
unintentionally, i got marginally faster with each one, even though I felt like i was crawling by the last one. its a big ass hill. running around here has been VERY different than running in central illinois - even on easy runs i always incorporate this particular hill at least once into the run, regardless of what im doing. i do it when i run with jazz too - she doesn't love it, i can tell when she slows down at the steeper part. its less than 1 mile from my house, shorter if i take the shortcut way so theres not excuse to avoid it. i've never loved hill workouts, but i know its making me better. these illinois legs need the elevation changes or we're going to have a hell of a time at some of these races this year.
Friday: 0:55 swim, 3000y
300 (50 drill, 50 free, 100 kick, 100 free)
3x300 descending
4x200 (alternate 50 free, 50 stroke)
4x50 (25 fly, 25 free)
5x100 best effort (held 1:15-1:16 or so)
swam it with a friend and got my ass kicked hands down - but in a good way. i pushed myself pretty good throughout the swim and felt good about myself when we were done. its possible that i am getting slightly more comfortable swimming faster. not quite like the good old days, but better then where i've been in the past 8 years.
Saturday: 56:20 run, 7 miles
2 mi easy, 2 mi build to half marathon pace (7:45), 1 mile build to 10k pace (7:38), 1 mile easy, 1 mile strong finish
it was WINDY AS HELL outside. i tried to plan the run around the hills so that my 10k pace and 1 mile finish wouldn't be straight uphill. it worked out pretty well, but the wind was another story. first 4 miles were good, the 10k part was straight into the wind for the 2nd half mile - pace went from 7:25 to 7:38 by the end. the easy mile was straight uphill, also into wind - that took a ridiculous near 9:30. but the last mile was 6:59... and that made me smile.
Sunday: EL brick, 2:00 or so (the run was about 24 min)
bike was easy and slow. explored a bit of the trails around the lab, didnt break a sweat, a little frustrating because the weather was nice and it was my first outdoor ride of the year so i wanted to actually DO something. but it is what it is. the run after was decent, did 3 miles and some (can't remember). beautiful weather though - absolutely GORGEOUS.
Monday: REST DAY
Tuesday: track workout
1.5 mile warm up
4 x 400m, 1 min rest
1 lap easy recovery jog
4 x 300m (jog last 100 to start line), 0:45 rest
1 lap easy recovery jog
4 x 200m, 0:30 rest
1 mile cool down
I'm not entirely sure about times or pacing to be quite honest. it was quick, felt good. no aches/pains. weather warmed up slightly from the previous week at least! my track buddy and i ran the whole thing together. its pretty awesome to have someone that is so similar in ability to do these weekly workouts with - makes it fun and competitive.
Wednesday: 1:00 swim, 3325y
300 warm up
5x75 (25 drill, 25 free, 25 drill)
3 x (300, 200, 100, 50 with 0:15 rest in between, faster with each interval)
20x25 IM order on 0:30
200 cool down
felt slow as hell at the beginning and for the first run of the main set. I actually looked at my watch and couldn't believe how slow I was... not a great sign. told myself to buck up and not be tired, so i did the 2nd set faster and the 3rd set a bit faster even. felt like a had put in a decent workout by the end, though i was just generally tired.
Thursday: 1:00 hill repeats
10 min warm up, 20 min tempo run at 7:40/mi, 5 x 3min uphill run up and down, so took about 5:45 or less each time.
unintentionally, i got marginally faster with each one, even though I felt like i was crawling by the last one. its a big ass hill. running around here has been VERY different than running in central illinois - even on easy runs i always incorporate this particular hill at least once into the run, regardless of what im doing. i do it when i run with jazz too - she doesn't love it, i can tell when she slows down at the steeper part. its less than 1 mile from my house, shorter if i take the shortcut way so theres not excuse to avoid it. i've never loved hill workouts, but i know its making me better. these illinois legs need the elevation changes or we're going to have a hell of a time at some of these races this year.
Friday: 0:55 swim, 3000y
300 (50 drill, 50 free, 100 kick, 100 free)
3x300 descending
4x200 (alternate 50 free, 50 stroke)
4x50 (25 fly, 25 free)
5x100 best effort (held 1:15-1:16 or so)
swam it with a friend and got my ass kicked hands down - but in a good way. i pushed myself pretty good throughout the swim and felt good about myself when we were done. its possible that i am getting slightly more comfortable swimming faster. not quite like the good old days, but better then where i've been in the past 8 years.
Saturday: 56:20 run, 7 miles
2 mi easy, 2 mi build to half marathon pace (7:45), 1 mile build to 10k pace (7:38), 1 mile easy, 1 mile strong finish
it was WINDY AS HELL outside. i tried to plan the run around the hills so that my 10k pace and 1 mile finish wouldn't be straight uphill. it worked out pretty well, but the wind was another story. first 4 miles were good, the 10k part was straight into the wind for the 2nd half mile - pace went from 7:25 to 7:38 by the end. the easy mile was straight uphill, also into wind - that took a ridiculous near 9:30. but the last mile was 6:59... and that made me smile.
Sunday: EL brick, 2:00 or so (the run was about 24 min)
bike was easy and slow. explored a bit of the trails around the lab, didnt break a sweat, a little frustrating because the weather was nice and it was my first outdoor ride of the year so i wanted to actually DO something. but it is what it is. the run after was decent, did 3 miles and some (can't remember). beautiful weather though - absolutely GORGEOUS.
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