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!  :-)

Why I Love the Y

Today at the Y, a woman joins our spin class wearing acid washed jeans with rhinestones on the pockets, thick brown leather belt, a long sleeve silk shirt, a mohair sweater vest, and sneakers with 1 inch heels.  She is wearing a fair amount of make up, and hangs her purse and winter coat from the bars of the bike. She hops on the bike and starts pedaling. The instructor does not bat an eye.  Tells her to roll up her jean leg, and launches right into classes. 

Other cast of characters include:

• Woman in grey leotard and red tights, straight from the 80's
  
• Woman with electric blue terry cloth sweatband and matching writs bands
• Man who had never been to spin class before and was wearing short short running shorts
• Woman in billowy, white ensemble, possibly form hospital, with white orthopedic shoes 

In reading this description, I can actually see people in these clothes intentionally trying to be retro-ironic-annoying.  But these people were not that at all. They were dressed like they normally dress at the gym,  mostly in their late 40s or early 50s, just going about their business. Not an ironic bone in them.  And this is why I love the Y.

Quiet Triumphs

Today after a very slow start in the morning, Chris and I headed down to Woodside (about 30 min south) for a bike ride.  Chris, even in his least fit form, is way faster and stronger than I am on the bike.   We rarely ride together because of this, and because I tend to work myself up into a frenzy alternating between "I'm so slow and pathetic" and "He's having a terrible time because he has to stop so much and go so slowly."  Self-pity and hyper-sensitivity all in one ride.  It makes me *super* fun to be with.

But today, I was determined to work on the old quieting the mind concept.  After negotiating with Chris for a long time about which route to take (his vote was for a Skyline climb - 35 miles 4000 ft of climbing), we settled on 27 miles with 2 climbs on Old La Honda (2400 ft or so), which still seemed an awful lot to me. But in the spirit of quite minds, I put aside my panic and self-doubt and hopped on the bike, happy to be riding with him.

The first climb started after 6 miles of fairly flat easy roads.  It's  about 1300 ft in 3.4 miles on beautiful, windy roads with amazing views.  It's an average of 7.2% grade, which I guess isn't too steep as these things go, but it was a tough, tough, climb for me.   It took us about 45 minutes or so to climb it.  I went through the classic hill climbing phases for me:  1) nervous 2) self doubt  3) talking to one self to calm down  4) focused 5) determined.  Hearing usually goes all wonky at this phase.  6) legs in agony and wondering when it will ever end 7) sheer will to completion 8) want to vomit.

The second climb was much less steep, but my legs and ego were shot.  The long decent back to Woodside also scared me a bit, especially with all of the traffic on the roads.  I worked on just focusing on enjoying the ride, but my self-doubt and hypersensitivity got the better of me.  "Chris is waiting again."  "The cars behind me an upset with me because I'm going so slowly."  "I'm going to crash and die on this lame ass descent." Etc.

But I completed the ride, Chris didn't seem terribly annoyed, and I climbed a hill I've always wanted to climb.  So I'd call that a physical success.  And though the voices in my head were louder than I would have liked, they seemed a touch quieter than in the past, and I'm glad we did the ride.  So I'd also call that a quiet triumph, too.  

Then I got to eat a chimichanga.  So that made the whole day worthwhile :-)

Inspirations all around

Some days, like yesterday, I feel so insignificant in this world.  Not in a low-self esteem sort of way, but rather that the world is greater, grander, and more challenging than my little bubble -- and I find it refreshing, humbling, and wonderful.

Our team did a lovely 30 mile ride up in Nicaso, which is about 30 miles north of San Francisco.  We rode to Point Reyes Station and had amazing views of Tomales Bay.  These places always make me thankful to live in Northern California and thankful to be able to enjoy them on my bike.

We worked on pacelining today, which was a whole new adventure for someone like me who has trouble walking straight, let alone riding straight.  But it definitely made a difference as we rode back in some strong headwinds.

On the ride, I learned about one of our honorees who battled cancer for some time. His treatments sounded terrible and painful.  But today he is 3 years post treatments and on his bike riding with us. I also chatted with one of our participants who, along with her husband, are training in honor of their Pops who passed away earlier this year from lymphoma.  In their journey to get to our team, they also got in shape, lost 167 lbs combine, and endured what sounded like terrible back surgery where they were not sure she would ever walk again -- all this year. Then she learned to walk again (wow).  They got some bikes, learned to ride, and joined the team.  They also live fairly far away and make it to practically every training with gigantic smiles on their faces.  Also, they are really nice. 

I started the ride in a fairly bad mood -- woke up at 5:30am, had no coffee, left my helmet at home, etc.   But by the time I left, I felt peaceful and grateful.  And my tushy didn't hurt!

Ride Motivation

So I've eaten ham for the last 7 meals.  It is the best ham in the entire world, so you can't blame me.  But it's getting a bit ridiculous.  So I'm using my ham obsession as incentives to do some serious bike training.  Whatever it takes, right?  If I eat ham, I must exercise. Today, I did a great spin class at the gym so that I could eat ham for all 3 meals.  Tomorrow, I am having dinner with a friend, so I will likely not train nor eat ham.

But first to justify my silliness or ham-illiness, you need to know the ham was just accepted into the 5th World Congress of Dry Cured Ham in Spain. The Spaniards love their hams, so they would know.  I've tried a lot of other hams, and this one deserves its place in the Ham Hall of Fame. It's a ham like no other.

Alrighty, now onto some biking updates.  We did a lovely ride in Pleasant Hill and Martinez on Saturday.  25 miles or so with some spectacular views.  I'm glad to learn more about the East Bay this season. I managed to lose a screw on my cleat at some point and was unable to clip out. We spent a good 15 min on the side of the road with me standing in my socks trying to figure out how to get my shoe off the bike.  A few clever uses of the the multitool and I was on my way again. 

Our team is divided into to smaller groups of people who ride about the same speed.  We're a smallish group of 6 ladies and our coach Jim.  This was my first ride with them so far since I've had the flu of some sort (the H1N1 status is still up for debate).  Though I serenaded my ride group with my phlegmy hacking the whole way, they still seemed to talk to me afterwards.  Anyhow, I like the small group riding, and I'm hoping to learn more about pace lines in the near future. 

Our team seems to be on the whole older than the Tri team.  This is good and bad.  The team doesn't quite have the youthful/drunken/high energy of the tri team, but I like the more mellow approach and I don't feel so old.  Actually, I really like the It's Just a Ride Not a Race mentality.  Tri's will always have a place in my heart, but this lack of the need for speed is just what I need right now.

And I know you're all wondering about the tushy.  So far so good.  Had a minor set back when I had the flu and was lying in bed for 5 days straight.  But now that I'm moving around again, I think its going to be okay on the bike.  Still seeing the Butt Doc but we're making steady progress.

Dusting off Speedster and Searching for Donors

Well, I've done it again.  Signed myself up for something I'm not sure I can do.  This time it will be the Solvang Century in March.  This will be a 104 mile bike ride through Central California wine country. It will include 5000+ feet of climbing, which seems to come at the very end of the ride.  It will not include any wine.  This is unfortunate.  I will be dusting off my bike and hoping that my hind quarters are up for the challenge.  Wish me luck.

No pictures of me on a bike so far, but here's one of me eating a lot of meat after a long ride.  Speedster's there in the background.

I am also volunteering my time as the Fundraising Capatin for our cycle team.  This means I am basically helping lots of other teammates in their fundraising efforts to find a cure for blood cancers like leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma.

You will all be saddened to know you will not be receiving an email from me with a request for donations to my website.  But you're not off the hook so easy this time . . . .

I do desperately need donations that will help me with supporting my team. I'm hoping to do a series of raffles to act as incentives for people to raise more money for LLS.  The more they raise, the better chances they get to win a fabulous prize or two.

So, please please, can you help me find donations for:

• Gift certificates -  to restaurants, hair salons, massages, bike fits, furniture, book stores, clothing, etc. (Bay area or Online)
• Products - software, outdoor gear, food, wine, etc.
• Tickets - to events, museums or shows
• Services - hosting a wine tasting, cooking a dinner,  yoga classes, art classes, catering, etc. (Bay Area or Online)
• Spaces - venues for hosting private parties

All donations are tax-deductible.  And your company or organization will be promoted throughout the season.  If you'd like to contribute with cash, just let me know.  I can always work with that!!  Just drop me a note, give me aring, or comment here and I'll get in touch!!

Success at Lake San Antonio!

Wildflower #3. Check!!

What a great weekend we had! All of our team did really well. The weather cooperated just beautifully, and I finished my race in a respectable time (for me) with out any injuries or an aching butt. So all in all, I'd call it a success!

We got there on Friday, and it was drizzling on and off, which worried everyone. We set up camp and noticed that it wasn't that crowded and the energy levels seemed sort of low in Loop G of the campground. It never really got packed like it has been the past. Not sure if its the economy or it was the rain.

Saturday our Long Course team raced. Everyone finished and did really well. One of my mentees completed his first triathlon ever, and did it in under 6 hours. Amazing! Chris and I spent the day cheering folks on, chalking up the roads with TNT cheer, and trying to stay hydrated.

That evening, as is tradition at Wildflower (a.k.a the Woodstock of Triathlons), we had a group dinner, which was interrupted by a pack of streaking Cal Poly students. I don't know why, but this is just part of the Wildflower experience. Good times. No photos to share of that. Sorry.

Sunday 6am rolled around pretty quickly. I hadn't slept well, which was to be expected. My leg had started cramping in the night, so I actually woke up with a sore hamstring. But other than that I felt calm and collected and not too nervous.

My wave (the old lady wave) started at 10:40am. The first wave was at 9am, so there was a long wait to begin. And consequently, by the time I finished, the crowds for cheering had thinned. Another disadvantage of getting old . . .but I digress. It was about 72 or so when we started. And probably hit 80 by the time I was running. A mix of cloud cover and sun. Perfect!

My swim felt great. I didn't get the race panic that I often get when I first jump in the water. I found my stroke pretty quickly and had a great time swimming. I swam next to a woman pretty much the whole way who did breaststroke for the entire swim. Very impressive. But I couldn't draft off of her. Darnit! Coach Bill ran with me after the swim exit and it got my spirits up. Having people cheer you on at a race gives me an amazingly huge psychological boost.

The bike was terrific too. The sun had come out by then, but there was no wind. The hills were shorter than I remembered and I felt pretty strong. I did fly down a few of the hills at 40mph, which might be fastest I've ever gone on my bike. I dropped my chain right before the last decent back to transition. Lost a few minutes there fixing it, but in the end, I was quite happy with how that all went.

The run, as usual, kicked my butt. It was much harder than I remembered and my hamstrings were really aching. But I felt hydrated and pretty good, tired legs aside. Chris and the captains were in the "Pit of Despair" and ran with me up the hill, which definitely got my spirits up. I ended up having to walk parts of the 2nd half of the run. I also got passed by two 65 year old women. Sigh. The last mile is all down hill, but I was really having to dig deep to pick up any speed on it. I thought of Jasmina, Arylene, and Buck the whole way down. I thought of everyone who supported me and donated to my fundraising. I thought of why I do TNT each year. And I thought about the beer and ice cream I would get after I finished. All of it worked! I had enough in me to pick up the pace as I crossed the finish line!

My time was about 2 minutes slower than last year, but given all of the challenges I've had this season, I was quite pleased with my time. I placed 1993rd out of 3500 people, which is squarely in the "slow camp," but hey, I did it! Today (Wed) my legs are still aching a bit and stairs are a bit of a challenge, but it's all good.


Thanks to everyone who supported me. You guys helped me get across the finish line!!