How I Think About Running

6:00 am - 1.5 cups of coffee, black
6:30 am - 2 slices of rye bread with almond butter
8:45 am - 1 electrolyte tablet
9:30 am - 3 GU Chomps Chews with Caffeine
10:30 am - 4 sips of blue Accelerade (Thanks Pam)
10:45 am - 1 ginger candy and 1 electrolyte tablet
11:00 am - 1 Hammer gel, banana flavored
11:30 am - 1 electrolyte tab
12:15 pm - 20 oz Hammer Heed Recovery drink, Orange flavored
1:00 pm - 1 Mixed Nut Mojo bar, handful of Goldfish crackers
1:30 pm - 4 slices of salami and 1 slice of cheese and cup of tea while sitting in ice bath
2:00 pm - 1 large veggie and cheese omelet a la Lori with the TG of Oz Ladies
2:30 pm - 1 waffle with maple syrup and fresh berries
5:30 pm - nap
7:30 pm - 1 slice of bread with olive oil
7:45 pm - 1 glass Kerner Pacher-Hof, 2008 White Wine; Toast Chris's birthday!
8:00 pm - Octopus carpaccio, Russian Kale with Anchovies, 1 Squid Ink and 1 Saffron Arancini with Marinara sauce
8:15 pm - 1 glass Kerner Pacher-Hof, 2008 White Wine
8:30 pm - Sea Bass with mashed potatoes and brussel sprouts
8:45 pm - 1 glass of Gamay red wine from Alto Adige (can't remember maker!)
9:00 pm - 1 gigantic ribeye steak, broccoli rabe, fingerling potatoes
9:15 pm - 1 glass of Gamay red wine from Alto Adige
9:30 pm - 1/2 Pannacotta with Balsamic vinegar

Blissful sleep.

How Many Katie Holmes Does It Take to Run a Marathon?

The answer if, of course, 28.4.  (How's that for cryptic and intriguing?)

So about 3 weeks ago, I woke up and had a really bad idea.  I decided I should run the Chicago Marathon.  I was on some post race high from completing Barb's Race a few weeks before.  I even convinced Chris to sign up with me.  He, being a more seasoned athlete than I am, realized it was a dumb idea and decided not to do it.

I, however, am still young and inexperienced.  So, not only did I sign up, I did a series of not smart things:

1. After signing up, I went on vacation for 2 weeks and did not run.
2. After not having run for nearly 4 weeks, I went wine tasting, drank much wine, and ate at a vegetarian restaurant the night before my 16.5 mile run (the longest distance I've ever run).  Run was not pretty.
3. I stopped taking my asthma medication for some reason several weeks ago.
4. I signed up to fundraise for this race for the Chicago Diabetes Project. Not in and of itself a dumb thing, but I only have 8 weeks to raise $1500. 

So this is where Katie Holmes come in.  She ran her first marathon (NYC) a few years ago in 5:28.  I remember laughing at her, considering her slow and lame.  This was before I had any idea of what it really takes to run a marathon.  But she's a celebrity, so laughing at her is what we (I) do.  Let's be honest, she does deserve a laugh from time to time.  (Tom Cruise, bad dancing, nothing good since Dawson's Creek, Tom Cruise, etc.)

So now as my long runs grow longer, 5:28 is in fact looking completely respectable to me, and I have made it my goal to complete my first marathon faster than  Katie Holmes.  That's right.  I am pathetic and lame, just like her.

If you were to so kindly jump over to my fundraising page, you would find a list of suggested donations.  One of which, is $52.80, $10 for every hour it took Katie to complete the marathon.  This has proven to be a popular choice of donations.  Which leads me to think that maybe much of fundraising can be done in increments of $52.80.  My goal is to raise $1500 by October 10.    Now, I have close to 3 Katie Holmes worth of funds.  Thanks to my friend Heather, I have this sort of mental model in my head.   I need 28.4 Katie Holmes to complete my fundraising. We'll call it 28.  I have 3 complete.  I just need 25 more Katie Holmes to finish this off.

Ok. This is vaguely creepy, but what are you going to do?  My HTML skills have withered away and this interface is pretty bad, so my actually being able to complete this matrix on this page will be challenging.  But know in my head, if you donate, I'll pick a little Katie just for you!


Thanks for your time.

Honesty

I completed my first half ironman triathlon yesterday at Barb's race.  1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13.1 run.  It was a pretty wonderful experience -- training with a great group of ladies and experiencing the race together.  We all did amazingly well and I'm so proud of us.

The not so quick and dirty recap:

Swim was super fun. I love swimming in the Russian River.  It was about 70 degrees, perfect tri swim temperature with a wetsuit.  The fog was hanging low in the cool morning. We swam under two bridges out and back for half a mile or so.  Great views as you glimpsed through your goggles.  It was crowed the whole time, and occasionally my fingertips scraped the bottom due to the shallow water, but I still loved it.  A tiny current coming back which made you feel super fast.  44 min, not bad, not bad.

They have wetsuit strippers at this race.  What a nice little thrill.  You sit down and they rip that puppy off of you.  I was afraid my tri shorts were going to come off in the process, but luckily everything remained covered.

The bike on this course is amazingly beautiful, full of fun rollers, good roads mostly, and one short climb all through Sonoma vineyards.  We did this ride as a training ride earlier in the summer when it was 97 degrees.  Thankfully, the weather gods were kind, and blessed us with a day that topped out at 82 or so.  I maintained a nice 16-18 mph pace on the flats, and ate and drank really well.   As an added bonus, I saw a bunch of friend out on a run while I was cruising by.  3:33 on the bike, which I am quite pleased with.

So I had to go pee before I left for my run, which is a good sign (well-hydrated).  In the porta-pottie, as I am fiddling with my tri shorts, I hear a *splunk*.  I look down and see my inhaler floating in the oh so lovely pit. Ewww and  curses!  I contemplate for more than a second, in all honesty, reaching in and grabbing it.  Luckily I had hydrated well, so my mental faculties were still somewhat coherent, and remembered that  I had another inhaler back at bike.  So I run back to my stuff grab it and start again.  8 minutes lost.

And then we get to the run.  With triathlons, its always about the run.  I started off well, running a decent pace, for the first 5 miles. I found a woman who was my pace and we chatted for 2 or so miles, which kept me going (Thanks Pam, wherever you are!)  But then the fatigue and asthma set in.  It was a downward spiral both physically and mentally, which I spent a lot of time fighting off. Thankfully a crew of friends were on the course cheering us on with signs and cowbells.  Since the route was a double loop, I had the good fortune of seeing them 3 times.  I also saw my ladies I trained with out there, which means the world to you when you're suffering.  In the end, my time was not awful, but not something I'm not terribly proud of.  2:47.

Complete time 7:19.  Faster than I predicted overall, actually.

So what I'm processing about all of this is how triathlons or any endurance event, for that matter, force you to take a good honest look at yourself.  You go into these races with complicated layers of expectations and thoughts about who you are and how you will do.  And in the end you have to be honest with yourself because ultimately it's just you, the road, and the clock.  What you see isn't always what you want.  And as the mile pass, you get down to a very raw form of your self and your perception of your self.

When you start (and by you, I mean me), you are optimistic and pessimistic, confident and insecure, excited and calm.  And then when it gets really hard, a shift happens:

At first you feel competitive and compare yourself to others, trying to find some aspect, of how you are better than any random person you pick out.  (I passed 6 blue caps and 5 green caps in the swim. I can totally pass her on the hill.  She's walking already?, etc.)  Then you start making excuses (Her bike is way fancier than mine.  She's 10 years younger than me. I have asthma.  I shouldn't have gone on vacation in the middle of training., etc. ) And then you really start scraping for excuses (Her genetics are better than mine.  I didn't sleep well 3 weeks ago.  This racing chip is totally weighing me down.  I brought the wrong flavor drink.)  And finally, you come to the truth or a version of it that is without any pageantry  (I am just a slow runner.  I could have train better.  I am really not that tough. I guess I don't really want it that badly.  I really can't do anything for a mile.)  This is when you really hate yourself because all of your expectations have been shattered.  And this does not help the mental situation at all, as you can imagine. Battling your way out of that is what the hard parts of a race are all about, I'm convinced.

But this morning after the race and a good night's rest, after all the demon fighting was over, I woke up with some clarity.  My first thoughts were: I did my best, I trained hard and as well as I could, I put in my best effort.  And I'm signing up to do it again next year, and I will do it better!  And then the next thought was: I must eat 3 ham sandwiches -- immediately!

Self Deception Is Your Friend

I know deep down inside  that I am capable of more than I think I am when it comes to training.   Coaches I've had in the past always say you can always give a little more than you think you can.  Chris tells me this all the time, too.  It's not that I don't believe them, but sometimes it's good to have a back up plan just in case they happen to be wrong.  I mean, at least one of them has been known to be wrong on occasion . . .

And this is where I say, "Self, meet Self-deception.  Self-deception, self."

Today I met Eileen for a swim at Aquatic Park.  We did our usual whining and whimpering as we put on our wetsuits. Eileen is a strong swimmer, much faster than me.  She wanted to swim the race distance today (1.2 miles).  I was fearful I couldn't handle it given my recent swim performance.  So I convinced her we'd just swim 30 minutes instead.    The water was not bad for aquatic park.  A strong drift came up half way through, forcing us to swim a bit harder.  After what seemed like 10 minutes, Eileen appears by me and asks how long it had been.  30 minutes!  We head in to shore.  I'm feeling fine. I surely could have swum another 20 minutes to complete the race distance.  Had I just gone with my completely whacked out sense of timing, deceiving my self of duration, I would have done just fine.

But I have a long run planned after the swim, so don't push it.  My goal was to run 14 miles.  Even though I knew it was 14 miles, I kept telling myself it was only 10.  I know I can run 10 miles.  Piece of cake.   I am sort of amazed how I can deceive myself even though I  know the truth. But it works.  Keeps the self-doubt a bay.  Something in my messed up psyche about my need to not fail or fall short of expectations that I set for myself.  Huh?

Anyhoo,  I set out on my run.  The first 5 miles feel fine, good even.  I consult my Nike pedometer dohickey. 4 miles it says.   So I know  that this device is not calibrated properly  and I know that I have run 5 miles given the route I've mapped out.  I know that my pedometer thingy can be up to 2 miles off.  I know that it can show that I've run 8 miles and I've really run 10.  I love this inaccuracy and failure of technology.  It helps me deceive myself.

The next 4 miles involve some hills and stairs, which I mostly am able to run.  I run by my old neighborhood, down my familiar old running path.  I'm enjoying the grand tour of San Francisco on foot.  Then my asthma kicks in and I have a pretty awful coughing fit for about half a mile.  Strangers stop me with serious concern on their faces.  I'm fine. I'm fine.  I'm fine, I keep repeating.  I am actually turning a bit pale and feeling a bit lightheaded.  But I tell myself I'm fine and keep on moving.  5 minutes later, everything settles down, and I am in fact fine.  Self-deception at its best!

By mile 12, I'm can taste the finish.  I look at my Nike pedometer.  It says 12 miles.  Wait. Huh?  It's decided to be accurate today? It's supposed to say 9 miles.  I start to panic.  I can only run 10 miles.  No way I can run 14 miles.  My back up plans and tricky, inaccurate devices are failing me.   I seriously go into a tizzy for a few minutes.  I can't be pleasantly surprised now by my self-deception.  It's just me and the road now.  Damnit.

I do a check in on my body.  I actually feel okay.  Legs are a bit tired, but they are moving a decent pace.  No blisters.  Hips not really aching too badly.   Shin splints are gone.  Okay.  Maybe I *can* do this.   I forge on ahead.  Run past the Breast Cancer walk crew, get a nice pick up from their cheers.  I run up and down my last hill.  I'm maybe 200 feet from my car.  I look at my pedometer.  13.5 miles. Curses.  I HATE failing, even at ridiculous self-prescribed, inconsequential, tricky goals like this.  So 200 feet from my car, I hang a left and run down this long pier that is about .25 miles long.  Out and back, and to my car.  14.11 miles!


So what's the lesson here?  I'm not really sure.  Except that maybe I need to start raising my expectations for my self from time to time. Or that I'm completely a nut job.  Or maybe both.  And we'll leave it at that.

PS.  I'm fundraising for my triathlon in 3 weeks.  Will you help me reach my goal of $750 to support local cancer charities?  Just $600 shy.  

Test of Heat and Character

We went down to Bama this weekend to see the family for a short visit.  It was great to see everyone, especially my cutie niece and nephew, Audrey and Eli.  Here they are harvesting corn from my parents' back yard.  Eli just lost his first tooth and made $6 from the tooth fairy (maybe I should knock out a few teeth!).  Audrey likes to snort.  I heart them.

Anyhoo, we attempted to keep our training on track even though we were eating meals about every 3 hours, thanks to my parents!  On Saturday we went to Oak Mountain State Park, which is about 20 minutes outside of the city.  It's a beautiful state park that has many miles of trails for hiking and biking.  It looks like it's actually a great place to train for tris.  Nice bike lanes on the long rolling roads, a few big lakes for swimming.  We decided to try a trail run, since Chris is training for an ultra marathon on trails.  (Help him raise a few dollars for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society if you can!)




After about an hour of trying to find the trails, we finally get to the trailhead for Peavine Falls.  I'm getting a bit annoyed at this point, since we still had 2-3 hours of running ahead of us.  It's nearing noon and we'll be running when the day is at its hottest.  Did I mention it was 88 and like 100% humidity at 9am?  So now it's well above 90.  I HATE running in heat, btw.  Chris is gung ho about this run, and no amount of whining on my part seems to deter him.  So he leaves me with the trail map and takes off.   This run will be a good test of my ability to deal with the heat, I think. And a good test of my mental toughness to do something my body does not want to do.

I start off slowly down the trail, planning for a 1.5 hr run.  I'm sweating with in 30 seconds. Seriously dripping.   About half a mile in, there are a series of trails branching off, none of which are on my map.  I try the one that looks the most traveled.  It turns out to be incredibly steep and rocky.  Like rock scrambling rocky.  There is literally a rope tied to the trees to help folks get down.  I decide this is probably not the best trail to run on.   I turn around and try the next trail.  This one runs me into a giant wall of Poison Ivy.  I carefully back out of that trail and go back to the junction thinking I missed the trail signs for the Blue Trail, which is what I am looking for.  I consult the map.  At the bottom, it says, "Brought to you by Such and Such Graphics. Last updated 1994."  Hmmm.    I am getting very sweaty and very annoyed.  I also just spilled purple Gatorade all over my legs and the mosquitoes are swarming.

Plan B:  Find a trail I can run on for 20 min then turn around and come back.  I manage to find one that is less rocky, and I run for about 15 minutes.  I am miserable in the heat.  I am feeling like I'm going to vomit.  I look up and there is the beginning of the Blue Trail!  There is also a small sign that says "Back to Parking Lot."  Another test of character.  I stand there for a few minutes pondering what is the correct direction.  . .    

I head off down the Blue Trail, fighting off the deepest urge to go the other way.  Within a minute, a giant bolt of lightening strikes, and rumbling thunder booms.  I jump from the scare.  We don't get much thunder and lightening in SF, and I've forgotten how awesome it can be.  And then, of course, the sky opens up and down comes the rain.  I take this as a cue from the gods that I should, in fact, go Back to Parking Lot.  This run just isn't going to happen. About 10 minutes later, I am completely drenched from the rain and back at the car.  The thunder and lightening echos on around me.  I grab a towel and crawl into the car, immediately reach for the ignition and turn on the AC.  Its still bloody hot outside and now the humidity really is 100%.

I now have about a 1.5 hour wait for Chris since he was running a loop.  I'm a little worried since the storm is pretty bad, and the trails clearly are not well marked.  The rain is dumping.  There are giant puddles forming the in parking lot. The radio station is broadcasting the Emergency Tone announcement saying the storms are dangerous.  Then they actually say "Lightening is the most common source of death in thunderstorms.  Stay inside." Awesome.  This test of character is a little trying.

About an hour later, my eagle scout shows up with a big smile on his face and covered head to toe in mud.  He had a great time trouncing through the  mud.  Phew.  We dry off and head to get pulled pork.

On Monday, I am determined to run. I go to the Y with my mom and swim for an hour.  Then meet up with Chris to run on a paved trail near by.  It is about 86 at 9am.  This seems like a good heat test, somewhat comparable to race conditions.  I start off down the trail at a decent pace.  There are tons of other folks on the trail.  I find it strange that no one else is running, just walking.  About 10 minutes later, drenched in sweat and feeling a little dizzy, I realize why no one is running.  Because only idiots run in heat like this.  So I start in with Plan B.  Run 10/ Walk 1, which lasts for exactly 11 minutes. Then Plan C.  Run 5/Walk 1.  Then Plan D.  Run 2.5 / walk 2.  Then defeat.  Just walk. Sigh.   I do manage to run the last half mile, but I want to vomit by the time I am done.

So, there were lots of training tests this weekend. And I think I failed them all.   But I still had a great time with my family, which is really what it's all about!

ps.  Here's a test:  Can you help me fight cancer?  I'm trying to raise $750 for local cancer charities.  I could use your help! 

Still at Sea

Ahoy!

It's June and I'm still at tri-sea! Thought it was time to hoist up the blog sail and report on the conditions.  Okay, that's about all of the maritime metaphor I have in me . . .

I'm in the throws of training for my first half-ironman triathlon this July 31st, Barb's Race.  It's part of the Vineman Ironman series up on the Russian River.  This will be, by far, the hardest endurance event I've trained for.  Twice as long as any previous tris.  Egads!  1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike ride, 13.1 mile run.

[BTW: The race is a fundraising event for local cancer charities.  Half of our race fees goes towards that. In addition, I'm trying to raise an additional $750 to help them out.  If you can spare a bit, please would you consider helping me out?  http://www.active.com/donate/vineman10/mcheungsf ]

I'm training for this with a group of friends, which has been super fun, but takes a lot more discipline than with a team.  No one to tell you what the workouts are, no coaches to encourage you along the way.  And no one plans out the details of each training session.  Last weekend, we went to Guerneville to ride the actual course, which is a point to point ride, which means you don't end where you start.  In fact, it means you end 20 miles from where you start.  And it really means when it's 96 degrees and you've ridden 56 miles, you don't want to ride back to your car, so you plot various ways of hitch-hiking, off-roading across the river, and teleporting your way back to your car for the last 10 miles of your ride.  Turns out you really can fit 4 bikes and 4 sweaty women into a small car.  Who knew.  [pics of our post ride snack.  no pics of the ride it self.  priorities, priorities!]

Anyhow, we are at the 6-weeks-to-the-race mark, which is a legitimate time to start to panic, in my opinion.  I started training back in March, with lofty goals such as finishing in under 7 hours and running the entire run at solid a pace. This has since been downgraded to two somewhat realistic and possibly achieveable goals:

1) Do not cry in the first 5 hours of the race.  Crying is fully sanctioned, and perhaps even encouraged from hours 5-8+

2) Have one good race photo, one that does not involve me looking like I'm about to die, curse, or fall over.  And one where I actually look like I am running.

I guess the 3rd, but unspoken goal would be to finish the race.  And maybe the 4th would be to not have to visit the med tent afterwards.  But that might be getting a bit cocky again!


Until next time. . .

That Special Place

So biking has this magical quality about it for me.  It takes me to a special place -- on so many levels. I'm not just talking your average Mac'n' Cheese Daily Special special.

By special, I mean:


1)  Amazing-secret-undiscovered(to me)-gawd-I-can't-believe-we-live-here-Special.

Here's a view from Hwy 1 biking south of Half Moon Bay, about 30 miles south of San Francisco.  The blue sky had just started to break thru the clouds.  The waves were a breathtaking. Even though I got up at 5:15am, I was actually in a good mood. It wasn't raining, and  I was with an amazing group of friends who all appreciate what we have. Thanks to Lin, my teammate, who's pictures I have stolen.  (Thank you, Lin!)




2) Bike-people-continually-amaze-me-as-kind-and-helpful-and-I-think-I-need-to-be-a-better-person-Special.

Here's a pic of me at the Bike Hut, this very cool hut that someone has set up.  It appears to be on an the land of an organic farm.  They offer water, coffee, tea, dehydrated fruits and veggies, dried lavender, magazines, and various other snacks, along with a sofa, benches and a picnic spot.  It's all on an honor system.  Drop you money in the cash box and enjoy!  I love that this exists, that its well maintained, and that people don't appear to abuse it.  Bikers in general seem to be such a helpful lot.  They are always stopping to help strangers change flats, to chat about the weather, or to give you directions.  It's like a special not-so-secret club. I love it.


3) Wow-What-a-Great-Group-of-People-Special

Here's my team I ride with every week for the last 15 weeks.  We are known as Jim's Harem. Jim is our ever-patient coach of 6 whiney women.  He is even-keeled, encouraging, and kind.  The ladies are crazy, wonderful, and oh-so-very special.  I have loved getting to know them all, and feel lucky to have them in my life.  I've loved watching all of us get stronger and more comfortable on our bikes.  When we summit or we crash, we do it together.  Something about riding with the same people week after week really fills a place in my soul.  Also, they like to make up songs while they ride, and asked me to sing the song on stage in front of our whole team.  And that is a whole different kind of special (Sally).


4) Here's-a-subject-you-don't-talk-about-much-Special

So biking for long distances requires a lot of time in the saddle.  And riding on that tiny little seat sometimes makes your "special" parts not feel so special. And only with ladies that you bike with can you talk about how to deal with this oh-so-special feeling.  And now I am convinced that Butter Makes Biking Better.  And I'll leave it at that. And give you a nice picture of us riding through redwood forests to wipe the special mental image you may have developed in reading this.


And there you have it. My Special Places.

Final image of teammate Betty cruising down Hwy 1.  Can't wait to go back to my special place next weekend!  Mt. Diablo  -- here we come! (Wish us luck!)

29 Days Later

Hopefully this is nothing like 28 Days later because I really hate flesh-eating zombies.   It is 29 days until my first century in Solvang, CA. 

It has been a tough month, I have to say.  The weather has been a bit rainy and cold, which is no surprise.  I've missed a few long rides, which has been frustrating.  And last week, I screwed up my neck so badly I couldn't turn my head to the right.  Definitely has slowed things down for me.  Limited riding, no driving, and no talking to anyone on my right side.  (hmmm, an aversion for the right?)

However, today is full of all sorts of things to keep me happy.  I can now turn my head to the right.  It is CK's and my first anniversary and my parents 43rd anniversary (I think). It Darwin's 201st birthday.  And the 6th anniversary of the day SF started issuing same sex marriages.  I'm still in PJs, working from home, and also have a shiatsu massage and sushi in store for tonight.  So take that, February!

Anyhow, back to training. . .  Tomorrow we head out for a 65 mile ride.  This is one mile shy of my longest ride ever.   And though I'm a bit nervous about these increasing distances, what I remember the most about the 66 mile ride was not how long it was or how hard it was, but how hungry I was afterwards.  I literally could have eaten my own liver at that point.  Hmmm.  Maybe this will be a bit like flesh-eating zombies.

Crossing to the Danger Zone

After training and completing a handful of endurance events as your basic non-athlete, I've come to recognize when I've crossed into the Danger Zone.  This is the point in training when you start to really push and tax your body, when you realize all the base work, core work, and proper nutrition really matter.   And because I appear to have the ability to forget everything I have learned, I am never able to see when this is coming and take preventative measures.

Yesterday we did a 50 mile ride from Orinda including the Pinehurst loop and the 3 bears.  It was a terrific ride.  We managed to have a completely rain free ride, the climbing we challenging, and we survived with only 1 flat amongst the 6 of us.   Through the first 20 miles, though, where the first climb was, I felt so sluggish and not all together there.  One of my teammates felt the same way.  We compared notes, and concluded that likely culprits were her glasses of wine and a cosmo, and my  beer and two manhattans I drank the night before, and my dinner of popcorn and duck fat fries.OK, probably not the healthiest of dinners on my part on any night, but the night before a significant ride, it was a really bad idea.   (In my defense, it was my birthday present night  -- we went to see Cirque du Soilel and then to Orson for drinks.)  Today my legs are super tired, I feel pretty sluggish, and it took me a long long time to rehydrate afterward.  Not a graceful recovery at all.

So the Danger Zone is really about when its time to straighten up and fly right.  I have been doing my core workouts and *trying* to get in mid-week spin classes and runs.  6 weeks to the event.   Gotta be better about  those mid-week workouts, and on Friday nights about getting more sleep, drinking less.  And gotta do better on the recovery front after the rides.  And I'll start that next week. .. since last night I drank too much beer and ate too much delicious pizza.  Hey, in my defense, it was our friends 40th birthday . . .

Hmmm. Starting to see a pattern here. Danger! Danger!  :-)