Bears, Beets, Battlestar Galactica

{Ah, one of my all time favorite Office intros. Love the Jim/Dwight banter.}

So if you haven't heard, I'm training for a triathlon. Which happens to be long. And at elevation. And for someone who literally lives at the sea, this isn't an easy feat. Since I know race day is full of surprises, I'm trying to minimize the shock factor. By shocking my system into shape. What's more shocking than a bear? The past 3 weekends have been filled with bear sightings:

1) Tahoe girls weekend; a brown bear managed to stumble into town and climb a tree after being spooked. Slept on the branch all day as tourists wandered past taking photos. I have to admit, his little {okay, very large} paw hanging from the branch was cute. He must have crawled down at night as he was gone by sunrise. 

2) California State Criterium Championships at Brentwood; ie the race for the coveted bear jersey! Kyle and I had a fun getaway up to LA last weekend. Stayed at the local Brentwood Inn, a quaint upscale hotel minutes from the race course. Kyle picked up a "W" in the men's 4/5 race, which sadly was not contesting for the jersey. I managed first loser in the 3/4 race in my first crit of the season. {dang it! I forgot how freaking long that sprint section is! Should've sucked wheel longer! Congrats to the Skyflash ladies for playing the cards perfect and for a ridiculously strong sprint.} Kyle battled back after a crash in the 4s and solo'd the remainder of the race. The highlight for me was hanging on for the finish of the pro 1-3 race! 55 min of constant attacks and counter attacks. Read: not what this endurance girl has been training for! Power meter picked up some great data to use next season. Last year I was dropped after 20 min {granted I tested positive for strep throat the following day} and this year I found myself amazed to be there in the end. A super fun, yet ridiculously challenging race. Ended up 14th, but the first cat 3 over the line. So by an un-technical, technicality, I was a state champ. :)

3) Big Bear Lake, CA; training camp weekend with a bunch of San Diego peeps training for Tahoe. Got another chance to train at elevation a bit closer to home and learned more valuable lessons to store in the suitcase for IM. 

Kyle, Jeremy and I headed up late on Friday night and arose after a restless first night of sleep. {ugh elevation!} Hopped on the bike for a 60 mile effort with the gang up to Onyx summit {and down and back up again}. Tried to stay within IM efforts and am really learning to hold back. Had a quick change transition and headed out for a 9 mile run. And I survived! Confidence boost and more deposits in the bank. 

Sunday was quite the opposite. Everyone woke up a bit more lethargic and the impending doom of the century ride was starting to set it. Another night of restless sleep.

 

The first 65 miles were great. Beautiful views riding on the "Rim of the World" down highway 18 looking out towards LA. Turning north over Crestline, the descents on hwy 138 were epic! A freshly paved road, wooded, and winding with beams of sunshine, this is a road you must ride. Made it to the desert floor and my slow leaking rear tube finally gave out. Limped our way to the nearest market to refuel {no mxn coke!} and change the flat. 

Survived the next 15 miles to the base of the climb back up to Big Bear and I was feeling the cumulating efforts of the weekend, the heat, the elevation, the saddle and then this- a freaking mountain in front of us. I said this in a post, but I've never wanted to get off my bike so badly, so I did. After a 10 mile slugfest up, I had enough. Everyone was regrouping under a bush and Kara, Kevin and I made the decision to pull the plug at mile 90. Kyle and Jeremy were our knights in spandex kits and finished the final 14 miles to the cabin and rescued us. Seated shower, pizza and a Corona haven't been better. 

I was finally able to sleep through the night {yeah I'd hope so} and Monday we slept in. Well, minus Kyle who had a 4am wake up to make it back to SD in time for work. The rest of us headed to the lake for a swim after a lazy morning. 

I was enjoying myself until a police boat scared the living crap out of me with his siren/horn! Apparently there is an ordinance about swimming 50ft from shore. He said it was highly likely I would get run over by a boat. So I swam in and along the shore back to where I started. Chatted with a few raft floating fisherman who noticed the boat speeding towards me and thought he was going to hit me. Lol. They asked if it was me who screamed. Yes, yes it was me and a heart attack while swimming is no joke. Luckily they weren't catching fish big enough to eat my feet, but I put a move on it back to the start. We had a delicious brunch at the Teddy Bear cafe, cleaned up and Kara drove Jeremy and I {and a very full Corola} back to San Diego. Big thanks to her for organizing the weekend accommodations!

 

I know I shouldn't be hard on myself for Sunday. But it's hard to swallow quitting something I've set out to do. Finding limits. Testing them. I can only ask so much of myself, but ugh. {I know, #firstworldproblems} We all have goals and aspirations and places we want to be. I want to be an Ironman {again}. Maybe I need to start eating beets. :) 

all too familiar; yet so reflective

I'm tired. I'm cranky. I'm sore. I'm exhausted.

{jeepers, you'd think I was PMS'ing or something}

Nope. I'm dead in the middle of my Ironman build. Yippie ki-yay! Why do we block these memories out when Race Registration Compulsion Disorder (RRCD) sets in? {Swim, Bike, Mom on the credit for that one} Why is that finish line so powerful? Powerful enough to make someone sign up for another?

It is about the journey, right?

Journey of an Ironman. Pony up the dough 12+ months in advance. Start training 6 months in advance. Freak out 4 months in advance because training hasn't commenced. Hire coach. Train. Feel like you'll never gain fitness again, and then fitness itself starts peeking through the curtains. Hello, thank goodness you are here. What's next?

Panic mode. Cramming for Ironman. How many of us will overtrain on our journey there?

Thank goodness the fitness is starting to show up to my workouts. It's not perfect, and I'm not close to race weight, but I'm on a path {albeit not straight} to getting to that finish line. With a smile on my face. I've hada good streak of training as of late and can only hope to ride this wave all the way to taper time.

However, it's not always sunshine and rainbows, even in San Diego. I heard an NPR segment recently about how social media and our "online personalities" are actually making everyone else depressed. All too common are those posts about the sunshine and rainbows, and smiling kids, and weddings, celebrations, sunsets. We wrap those perfect moments into a collection and leave out the rest.  Rain, tears, breakups, crying babies, work frustrations all get slid under the social media rug and then what? Our lives become these perfect little square photos of smiles online, but unravel behind the screen. I understand there is a limit and a balance as well. You're probably thinking of the person you blocked from your timeline who hasn't a happy thing to say. But see, we push them away. Into this fake friendship, instead of reaching out. Instilling a smile into their so unpleasant online world. Remember the FB "Poke" and the smiles those used to bring to your belly when the notification rang?

Poke. :) Am I really getting old enough to say, "Remember, in the olden days?"

Everyone has setbacks. It wouldn't make the good times great if it weren't for these "why me?" moments. Woe is me, my heel has been a literal pain in the foot since January. Woe is me, walking to pee in the morning is a serious struggle full of painful steps. Woe is me. Work has becoming increasingly stressful. This is not a pity part blog, Rachel!

space boots. recovery mode on.

It's either hurry up and get through these days, these workouts. Or Stop. And smell the roses along the way, enjoy the view, your ability, the shivers you get when thinking of that last mile before the finish. And that line. Drawn in the sand, that we must cross. To reach the end of the cycle. To maybe start again someday.

I said my first would be my last. And here I am, cycling back to the #freakingironman mode. And I feel it becoming a part of me. Not enough to outbreak in RRCD because that'll happen when the time is right. But enough to know that I still have that light inside and I won't let these woes blow it out. Maybe someday the {ironman} light will jump to the Sherpa and we'll experience what a household of #craziness is all about. {Yes, I also think it's crazy that my brain is starting to process the "pound/hashtag" as a part of my daily communication. We're all doomed.}

goldfish reflections. yum.

I've become a bit more reflective this time around. Which I suppose happens when you do something over again, but in a new way. Reflections get distorted and aren't perfect. But neither are we who are reflected. Those square photos are a snapshot of this ever crazy journey. And right now, I'm happy where that journey is headed.

reflections at the pool. in not so sunny SD

:: we are the crazy people ::

Too long between posts and I find myself skimming over events that used to be my highlights. I suppose not having the podium pic will do that, but boo hoo, this isn't a pity party blog.

I raced SDIT for the 6th time {year one was a relay} and consider myself a Local and a Veteran. Being a Local allows me to sleep in my own bed, and wake up uber late for triathlon standards. It means I give a lot of hugs and high fives pre-race {life of a local bike fitter; I meet a lot of tri nerds.} Being a Veteran provides confidence, affords me the luxury of having course knowledge like few others, and gives my Sherpa the ability to shine since he's had a lot of practice. We've got this race down pat.

the sherpa before the swim

This year, being a local veteran gave me an overwhelming sense of calm before the race. Something that hasn't happened before. Something that I've been leery of in my swimming career. Calm. Not nervous. Not uber excited. Not anticipated. Just calm.

I headed to the starting line, not sure if this was a positive or negative, but put it behind me and put my racing pants on. It's go time, and there's nothing like an in-water start to get that going.

Swim was uneventful. Lisa F was charging from the line but let up 150 yards in. I didn't feel the need, so I kept pushing the pace. Made the turn, flipped over and saw her on my toes. Slowed. She didn't pass, so oh well, I guess I'll forge my way though these waves of people ahead. First out of the water.

Hopped on Noko's Parlee {the death and rebirth of Kermit coming soon} and was off on my favorite So Cal course. {Less the SD Tri Classic, sadly I can't race it because I'm a race director! shameless plug: Register now!} Bike was also uneventful. Large crowds of men on the first lap and was alone for most of the second. Bombed down Canon in my usual fashion and was off the bike after getting a quick wave to the Sherpa.

Parlee TT with my sweet Giro Selector from the Sherpa

Run was eventful. It was horrible. I was 5 min slower than last year. Contributors to this dreadful run:

1) I ran the Jump! Aquathlon a week prior. Fast. {for me, maybe a 10k PR} I recover like a 70 year old woman after a hip replacement. {not fast}

2) Rode 80 miles in East County, 20 min faster than the previous week, averaging 17mph with 6500' climbing on Tuesday. 

3) Got a power meter and did a power test on Thursday; read - almost puked my guts out.

4) Moment Anniversary Sale weekend = working long hours and standing all day before the race

5) Wind

6) Calm attitude.

suffering. in beauty i suppose.

That is a list of excuses. Of which I'm also not a fan of. The biggest one is my attitude. I wasn't nervous. I couldn't get uber excited. I felt flat and tired. And too relaxed about one of my favorite races. No amount of caffeine could've saved the day. It was my race to lose and I lost it on my least favorite part. That darn run.

I know this wasn't an A race. My coach listed it as a D race, but I don't like labeling races. It's a RACE, and I'm there to blow the doors off. Every time I toe the line. It doesn't matter if it's an open water swim, a crit, a 12 lap scratch race at the velodrome, or a triathlon. I'm a competitive person and I love to race. I like good competition. I like to push myself and test my limits. Bottom line, I love crossing that finish line. And after crossing it at SDIT for my last race as an official 29 year old, I wasn't satisfied. 

Me? Yeah I wasn't happy. Cold and wanting to head out and Sherpa left his keys in transition. Fail. And then I was off to work for the remainder of my self pity day. 

///:

I'm a person of measured improvement. Everyone is. We all want to get fitter, faster, go longer. In life and sport. And when that doesn't happen, how we cope is what matters. Reading last year's SDIT report and seeing how excited I was for my measured improvement is not the way to look forward. 

So I did something I've never done. Something that I've always thought was crazy and only saw fast people doing. Something I said I'd never do. 

Double Great Western Loop. {80+ miles 7500' climbing}

first go-round w/liz and jay

My first encounter with such craziness was watching Elizabeth Daubner's 2009 Kona prep. A double in under 5 hours with ridiculous temps. Crazy. I remember doing one of those loops and hanging on for dear life. Finishing and thinking. Crazy. How can she do it again?

And here I am. 2013 Tahoe prep. In ridiculous temps. Not quite reaching that insane pace, but I'll also never be a Kona girl. Today I did it 30 minutes faster {5:15!} than two weeks ago. After a crazy camp in Tahoe.

today. w/jim & maureen {and noko, julie, anna, liz and jay}

Have you heard that Ke$ha song, We are the crazy kids? Our Trans Tahoe boat captain played it a couple times during the swim and today it was ringing loud and clear in my mind. 

Shh...we are the crazy people. 

Trans Tahoe

I have had this race on my bucket list since I first heard about it in 2009 after just meeting speedster Erin H. I finally got the opportunity after meeting Noko's pal and neighbor Allison. I signed up for Ironman Tahoe last summer knowing I'd need to head up pre-race for some recon. Combed objectives into a quick vacation up north.

Kyle couldn't miss class, Steve was racing Lake Stevens 70.3 {and crushed it!}, and Kara's bf was in DC all week. Screw the men, it's girls weekend! We left after a half-day at work on Thursday and arrived late. I slept like crap with obvious altitude effects of a higher heart rate and increase breathing cadence.  

Tahoe Course Recon 

Friday was 96 miles and the absolute worst brick run of eternity. By anyone. Serious struggles. Couldn't breathe. Everything hurt. Could hardly stand. Was barely moving. Walked three times. Yuck. Was seriously considering bagging this race cause altitude sucks. After the longest 21min run ever {yes I know time doesn't slow, but this was as close as it gets to that feeling.} Internal pity party commenced. Sat in the water at lakeside and tried to push away my negativity. 

After thinking about the bike course and my pacing, nutrition, course finding, power, heat, altitude, and amount of climbing I'm okay with what happened. I learned a lot, of which was published in a book to the coach. Excerpts from that writing:

3) I have a during-ride coke addiction. I crave it. I need it. Stopped in Truckee on 2nd lap at a gas station on course. Can I please bring $2 with me and stop during the race? (Is this legal?)

5) Hill grades. I hate anything above 7% ish. Erin is strong. Stayed attached to her wheel and was pushing 170-195. Then incline started to increase. And she rode me off her wheel. Felt like Froome vs Contador. Incline increased more. Cadence was 34 at one point. Couldn't turn pedals. I see a few Via Capri repeats in my future. 

6) REMEMBER TO PACK INHALER. {life or rather lung saver}

Trans Tahoe swim relay

This was definitely the highlight of the trip. I awoke on Saturday morning excited to be on the lake {and not on the bike; sorry Super Grover.} We drove to a nearby boat launch and met {for the first time} our Draggin' Anchor teammates. Kara drove Erin to the start and before we knew it we were searching for #1207. Speedster Erin was the 2nd person from the 2nd wave to the meeting point and we were off on our 11ish mile trek to the west side of the lake. 

The team decided the order and I was 3rd but had to jump a bit early as our 2nd swimmer's lungs didn't agree with the altitude {which made me nervous about mine!} Lungs were fine {phew!}; it was the legs that were lead, draggin anchor on the bottom of the lake. After many cannonballs {2x20 min swims for me} Erin was back in the water for what was the final leg. 

We finished in 4:40ish; picked up Kara and headed on the pleasure cruise back to the boat landing. Scott, our amazing captain, gave us the chance to try wake surfing. So Much Fun! I got up on my first try and wow, that's a leg workout, riding the endless wave. We definitely had the nicest boat and captain in the race. 

Video here:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xkjTMrFh8fU

Tahoe Sunday Brick

Today was what I needed. Drove to T2 and rode the loop from Squaw Valley. Lungs and legs felt much better. Temps were much more favorable starting earlier and only doing 1 loop. We went up the descent from Northstar as far as we could before gated neighborhood on other side. Was smarter with nutrition and water. And was riding harder. Felt better on big hill too, still fading the last half mile, but faster and felt easier, although the coach may say otherwise. Channeled my inner Julie D. descending skills {and will during the race} hammering down towards the lake. Rode a consistent 10 miles back to t2. 

Run felt surprisingly good. Like 100% increase from Fridays sorry excuse for a run. Ended up as a huge confidence builder, yet still showed me I have work to do! Thanks to my amazing friends Kara and Erin for making the trip up and agreeing to do "my" workouts! You girls are pretty awesome and super badass. More of these, please!

What an amazing weekend in such a beautiful place I had yet to visit! I told Kyle we are parking the future RV here for a summer or two. Looking forward with anxious anticipation to Ironman in 2 months and a day!  

#swam4JPD

This isn't easy. Life's not fair. Only the good die young. So many thoughts and fears come pouring to my mind, yet I can't find the right words to convey my emotions involving Jackie.

The So Cal cycling community experienced great tragedy on Tuesday as a fellow cyclist, a wife, a fighter and a friend crashed at the velodrome and sadly, lost her life. In doing so, through donated organs, she gives the hope of life to six others.

Tuesday was not much different than any other. A day off as usual for me. I had a big east county ride with Julie in the morning, a foot doc appointment in the afternoon and a pedicure to follow. Kyle and I decided to head to the track that evening to partake in the cheering festivities of TNR.

That wasn't easy. Life's not fair. Crashing at the track is rare. People bounce back.

I didn't know how to react. I was restless on Tuesday night. I cried. I was up, down and around. Enough about me. I couldn't stop thinking about her husband. About her parents. About how they aren't supposed to be the ones saying goodbye. Kyle and I visited her on Wednesday and her dad told me in a tearful hug, to never let her ride alone, to ride with her, always.

Oh, she'll be there. She is here.

Today was her memorial ride {There will be another one July 4}; I had signed up for the pier to cove swim race, so I opted out of the ride and decided I'd swim for her. I think she was sitting on my back the entire swim - my lats were SORE by the end! I ended up 4th woman, and 11th OA and was happy with the swim. I usually am so focused on technique, body position and heading while swimming, but today she kept my thoughts on her.

I feel a bit selfish. Like I wish I would've known her better. I wish we would've had more interactions this year. She was new to the cycling community, but in her short stunt, she was a HUGE presence and an advocate for woman's cycling. She'd crashed before and gotten back up to race again. She was one of those girls I thought I'd get to know better next year when I switch back to cycling after this tri focused year. She was one of those girls, you won't forget.

Oh Jackie. Your smile and heart will not be forgotten. We will ride on.

into the swim {bike::run} of things

Ah yes. This feeling faintly resembles another long past time in my triathlon life. The Ironman build.

So I'm back at it again. After O'side, I took some much needed and forced time off. The tonsils came out. I became lazy. We took an awesome trip to Monterrey for the Sea Otter Classic which was a kick {in the pants} off to a summer of {training} fun.

concentration. how do i clip in again?

most everything started at the sea otter bridge

road race of death. glad i said "hell no!"

circuit race anger ensues. must find shade.

epic photo of the weekend.
really, sea otter is a big MTB party

so we started partaking in the party

my cross racing husband. :)

flying mount. {I need to learn his skills}

the san diego crew {less the Kogut's}
Terry, Kyle, Cristi, Bruce, Me & Dean

took the coast drive home.
great stop for lunch with amazing views 

What an awesome experience to ride a bike on the Laguna Seca Raceway. I think I would've been happy with just that. Racing after literally sitting on the couch for 2 weeks straight on pain meds wasn't the most fun idea, but it was a great shock to the system and really broke free why I like going fast {and how much work it's going to take to get there.}

Unfortunately this summer isn't about going fast, but more so about extending the long. Looking at the long term training plan, I definitely forgot what the definition of long really is:

adj. Measuring a great distance from end to end. {eg: 115mil bike rides, 20+ hour weeks, Ironman}

Yikes. I obviously wonder why I do this to myself. And then I remember. I like to be challenged.

verb. A call or summons to engage in any contest, as of skill, strength, etc {eg Ironman}

So the challenge has been set. Get me across the finish line, again with a smile on my face, and without injury. It's a mighty challenge that Brian {& Kyle} better be up for.

SwimSmart

Swimming Smart is a phrase that's near and dear to me. I've been swimming since I was 6 months old. I've always had a love of the water, an obsession with mastering the way my body moves through it. My skin has soaked up enough chlorine that "eu de chlorine" became a legit perfume.

Remember those t-shirts, __(sport)__ is Life, the rest is just details; yeah swimming was my life. {It's the "Keep Calm and Carry On" of the 90s} Swimming is still is a very important part of who I am. I teach swim technique to triathletes and stress the importance of what swimming smarter, not harder {Triathlon Lifestyle Coaching motto} is all about.

My parents spent money sending me to swim camps {to have fun with friends} to improve my technique, and ultimately {make the Olympic Team} swim in college. {Great return on investment!} They spent countless hours on the road and in the bleachers cheering me on and following my career. They have a little tablet with EVERY swim and split time I've ever swam in a competition. They have every program/heat sheet with more times. Not kidding. They are my parents, and they are WONDERFUL. I seriously cannot thank them enough for the time, effort, and money they put into making me swim smarter. {How convenient that Mother's Day falls this Sunday?}

Okay, I understand that most people do NOT have this passion for swimming, especially triathletes. In the same way that I dread the run, I'm sure most triathletes dread the swim. But guess what? It's a triathlon; a swim, a bike and a run. We all have signed up to do ALL THREE SPORTS. So when a corporation tries to tell me that Swimming Smarter means changing the protocol, I get upset.

WTC {Ironman} released their swimsmart program today for selected North American Ironman races.  http://www.ironman.com/triathlon-news/articles/2013/05/swimsmart-initiative.aspx#axzz2SnhE5WWu

We have known this was coming with the rumor mill aka Slowtwitch.com and Ironman CDA but I can help but be shocked that its finally "official." Ironman states they've inacted this policy to "improve athlete satisfaction {obviously not mine} and to reduce anxiety during the swim." I think they are doing it for the lawyers. Everyone is scared of the lawyers. It's not about those who have died, it's about the money they'll lose if the right person passes. My sincere blessings are with the families of those who have gone. Heck if I happen to die swimming, I hope someone reads this at my funeral. I will have died a happy woman, in an element that I love! Here's my take, and a blunt one at that. 

The Good {or the "duh" answers}

1) Swim buoy numbering. Obviously this will help on course support maneuver to aid a participant in need. Good call. As a race director myself, I believe we will initiate this at our 2013 race and make sure all personnel are briefed ahead of time.

2) Water temp rules. Below 52 or above 88 and swim is cancelled. Okay, fine. I don't prefer to swim in a frozen lake or hot cest pool. But I swam IM St George in 52 and had it been 51 and cancelled, lets just say it wouldn't have been pretty. Tahoe, you better warm up for September, okay! 

3) Pre-race warmup. YES! I am a huge proponent of warmup. I would like to bet that most triathletes who have a so called "panic attack" experience this within the first 3 min of the start. Warmup people!! It's all too often I go to a sprint/oly race and maybe 1/6 of the people in my wave have gotten wet. And getting wet is not a sufficient warmup. Would you run a 400m race without warming up? People warm up before the beer mile. This is Ironman; if you think you'll get too tired from a 10 min warmup to compete the 2.4 mile swim, then you didn't prepare and shouldn't toe the line. I think the warm up zone should be mandatory and on the way to an in-water mass start. {see my proposal below}

4) Increased rescue personnel and boats/watercraft. All good unless they leave the 2 stroke motors idling in front of me as I choke on the fumes. I kid, I kid. There should be regulation on number of lifeguards/boats per number of participants in the water at one time. 

5) Education. This only works so much, but it can't hurt. We are paying $700 for something, so using those resources to create videos, training suggestions, and more communication is always good. Luckily, most {ironman} triathletes are type A people who read the athlete guide cover to cover and email the race director because of a grammatical error. So WTC will probably have good luck with athletes actually reading/watching their stuff. 

Wow, so I didn't expect to get 5 nice things to say about this article. 

The Bad and Ugly

1) Resting Rafts. Have any of you been to a YMCA with a giant inflatable? We got one in middle school and it was awesome! A giant polar bear floating in the middle of the pool to crawl onto and jump off. Oh what fun it was until someone popped it. Or Floatopia, the famously banned party on the water. Spectators could pay money to get the best seat in the house!

This is ridiculous. I hope the resting rafts have a floating bar attached as well. I'm sure Powerbar will pony up the sponsor dollars to have their gels and drinks on board. If you are a swimmer in distress, can you imagine pulling yourself onto a floating/moving raft?! No way.

The rest have to do with changing the iconic mass start that has made Ironman famous. These races used to be "ready, set, go" and that shouldn't change. This is the one time when, as a woman, I get to start FIRST {well behind those pro athletes...some of which I actually passed at IMSG}. This is when we all toe the line as equals. As individuals who paid to enter ourselves into a community of insanity, as triathletes starting on this 140.6 mile journey, I wish to start this race with those competitors.

Sports Photographer of the Year Donald Miralle
2012 National Geographic

2) Rolling Starts. Let's just say I'm glad I'm not doing CDA, Lake Placid or Louisville. The first two are switching to a format already in place at Louisville. This is one of the many reasons I didn't and won't sign up for that race {temperature, course, location}. But now that they are in my opinion ruining two of the most iconic North American races, ones that I've had my eye on, it's over. The swim start is becoming a running road race start. A self-seeding start whenever your foot crosses the start line. So say I'm on that line and I start. And a girl in my age group decides to start near the back 20 min later. She crosses the finish line 19min 59 sec after me and I've officially just lost a sprint finish I didn't realize I entered. Of all three of the proposals, this is the worst.

3) Self-Seeding. Do you really think that triathletes are a realistic bunch of people? What are the DNF rates at these races? People pay the money. No one starts the race thinking they won't finish. But it's Ironman; something does and always will happen. So why should official self-seeding change anything? Isn't that what we are technically already doing? Unofficial self-seeding. I warmed up, and swam to the front of the start line at St. George. I treaded water on the front line. I actually raised my feet/body as they counted down to the start. I looked over, and saw people STILL ON THE BEACH for a in-water, mass start swim. Isn't that self seeding; those folks were uninterested in toeing the line with me and my big shoulders? In a running road race, how much passing and re-passing is happening with the self-seeding corals? What's the point? Lawyers. Right. They think that my using the defense, of oh, that guy drowned because he self-seeded himself too high and had a panic attack when the faster swimmers came blazing by and inhaled water while having a heart attack. It isn't our fault. Well right, it isn't. But changing the protocol didn't help save his life.

4) Wave Starts. This is how most triathlons start. Everyone has their gripe. Girls are usually last. At SDIT, my wave is usually after the 60+ men, Clydesdale and Challenged Athletes. Seriously? I don't look forward to swimming over any of those individuals, nor any other participant! I signed up for Ironman because of peer pressure, and because of my memory of watching the start of IMAZ 2008. It brought tears to my eyes and I knew that one day I'd be in that water with 2000+ competitors. Wave starts make it just another event, just a really really long day at another event. At least you'll be able to actually compete with others in your age group in a better head to head competition than the self-seeding time trial starts. But it won't be the same.

Okay, less gripes vs. positive reactions.

My proposal

In-water, mass swim starts with a start line at least 300 yards away from the swim entrance. Not that 300 is enough, but I can see too many gripes from the peanut gallery if that distance increases - "I didn't enter a 2.4 mile + 300 yard race!" {Well hey, the way the 2 loop course at Tahoe works, there is a beach RUN during the swim and I sure as hell didn't sign up for a race where any more unnecessary running is added...it's Lake Tahoe for gosh sakes!! It's not like there isn't enough room.} The beach starts bring unnecessary anxiety and heart rate spikes. In-water starts force competitors to at least get wet and "warmup" to the start line. No sprained ankles, or anyone getting trampled {my swim fears}. St. George was the easiest swim I've ever experienced in my triathlon career and I say that with sincerity.

This topic obviously strikes a cord with me. Feel free to facebook/twitter/email me if you'd like to vent. I'm looking forward to the status quo at Tahoe {officially or unofficially self-seeding}, and I'm sure as heck working on my beach starts this summer. I will not get trampled.

Save the mass start. Learn to swim. Register for something that is an obtainable goal for YOU, make a plan, and get some!! It's too bad that money, lawyers, and the underprepared are changing the world of triathlon.

Yours in Swimming Smart,
Rachel

 

Tonsillectomy Tuesday

Tonsillectomy = not awesome. Gross details ahead but I'll spare you from the pictures.

Day 1: 7:30am checkin. First iv line blown and it took a while to find another. Tonsils were taken out with a machete. Recovery room was horrible pain and they wouldn't let me lay on my side. I felt like puking, but being in so much pain, I had to keep the barf down with sheer force. Second recovery area was much more pleasant. 2 popsicles. 1 lap walking around the track. Was cleared for departure.

Day 2: Night one was horrible. Up every 30-40min. Car alarm in the alley didn't help the cause. Day 2 wasn't bad though. I thought I was home free. I {slowly} ate some mac and cheese! Was trying to go 6 hours between pain meds. No such luck.

Day 3: Death by sleeping. Slept more, set my alarm for 4 hour increments to make sure to wake up for the pain meds. Helped. Woke up and felt like a monster was sleeping in my throat and I woke him up. Ate chicken broth, water, apple juice.

google image search is awesome.
exactly how i feel

Day 4: Woke up in tears. I now dread sleeping. Daytime is much easier. Pain meds are very cyclical. Take it, feel crappy for 20 min, feel awesome at 45 min, good for 2 hours, and then pray that the rest of the time up to 4 hours hurries by because I'm in so much pain. Eating happens in the afternoon hours. Sherbet, chicken broth, ice chips, pudding.

Day 5: Missed my am pain meds and woke up alone {Kyle went to look at cars} and in horrible pain. Mornings bring dagger pain and a stiff neck. Once the medication gets back into my system things get better. Took a ride in Kyle's new {1968} VW Beetle! Ate angel hair pasta and scrambled eggs, more pudding, hard-boiled egg whites.

i can't believe we own a bug!

Day 6: Alarms worked, but still woke up with the worst pain yet. Stayed in bed longer than usual. Accomplished my goals of taking a shower and cleaning the bathroom/bedroom. More pasta and mashed potatoes. Surviving. However, I think the scabs are starting to fall off. The shedding is more disgusting more than painful; but I've learned to expect that the pain will come.

With all this lazing around, I really need to start stretching and rolling. My legs were sore from Oceanside until Wednesday, but that was the least of my pain concerns. I think I actually recovered quicker than usual. I ran as fast as I could on the day, and while it wasn't fast or "hard" it was still time spent pounding on cement. Heel isn't hurting nearly as bad, so I'm optimistic for training again, once my throat allows.

i know how you feel buddy; okay maybe not.

I watched Paris-Roubaix today. Great race. I don't think my heart rate has been that high since the surgery! Go Fabian!

2013 Oceanside 70.3

leisure pace. trying to smile + stay positive.

So after 5 years of living in So Cal I finally raced Oceanside half ironman. It's a hometown race and it's pegged as one of those races where you freeze at. Okay, so after the Panama 70.3 humidity disaster of last year, sign me up! For racing, I embrace the cold! I know my body doesn't perform well in the heat and sun, so I begged for rain and cloud cover and freezing ocean temps. I swim in the cove {almost} year round and while, yeah, it's freezing, I'm used to it. And I know most of my competitors aren't.

You can't always get what you want.

After a crappy night sleep experiencing some wicked lower back pain from standing at the expo for the past 2 days and the Crohn's flare, race morning came early. Kyle and I picked up Noko at 4:30am and we made the trek up to north county. Managed to scarf down an entire bowl of Malt-O-Meal {with heaping spoonfuls of brown sugar} and I made sure to drink plenty of fluids on the drive up. Kyle dropped us off at T2 and we situated our run stuff and rode the bikes over to T1. Got set up and then saw Kyle where we watched the Pro's swim through the harbor so I could take a better look at the overview of the buoys. Put myself into the {cattle} corral and waited until our group was the next released into the {62 degree WARM, what?!} water.

okay! made it to the start liine. ready for the long day ahead.

Swim: 24:16, 1st 30-34 AG, fastest amateur female, 5th overall
Wave 17 {lucky number, lucky swim} 7:30am, 50 min after the pro's and the gun goes off, and there we go. It was a pretty uneventful swim. Goggles performed beautifully {no fogging/cracking issues}. I drafted for a while, then I took the lead for a while, then the girl started tapping my feet like we were pacelining, so I flipped over, adjusted a goggle, took a few backstrokes, let her pass me and I stayed on her side for a while. I didn't like her line going into the turnaround so I took a shorter line. Ended up emerging after the turn pretty close to her so I started drafting again. Saw the husband at his post, I waved and yelled "Hi!" as I knew he'd get a chuckle from that. I gave one final push to try and drop the girl, but knew it was pointless, so I let up and coasted into the turn, where I had the inside line and took a wide corner to the chute and hopped out of the water before her. Success!

Bike: 2:54:13, 12th AG, 47th amateur
Took some time in transition and got out onto Kermit and his new wheels and started off pretty easy. Lisa passed me just as we passed onto the base at Camp Pendelton. After the first climb I realized my HR monitor wasn't working so I started playing with my Garmin and I was becoming quickly frustrated so I quit that. Christine passed me and from then on it was a race. And it was fun. I knew I didn't have a shot at hell in placing in my AG, but I sure as heck wanted her and Lisa to do well, so I kept up the pace and kept them motivated to keep the first girl in sight {B+L kit?}. We were swapping leads through the base and into San Onofre and back onto the base. I felt pretty good going into the first hill and unfortunately let her and Lisa slip away, and I never saw them again. I hit a LOW point after the downhill. The winds started to pick up and I felt like I was going no where in my small ring. It was almost a bonk, except I was eating enough. I had enough caffeine. I just chalked it up to not enough training and a crappy, exhausting week. It started to get scary when my eyes started drying up and they kept involuntarily closing. I really thought I was going to end up in the ditch or crashing. Those were not good moments for me. I didn't think I'd be able to finish the bike, much less run. I caught some legal drafts back to T2 and walked my bike to my rack. It's a race for goodness sake, and I'm walking. Think angry cat face. I dump Kermit and thank him for a job well done for getting be back safely. The new Zipp Firecrest 404 650s were amazing and I feel bad I couldn't do them justice. I walk to the "run out" exit and see Julie who is yelling at me to start running. So I started running.

go Kermit!

ramps of death

Run: 2:17:05, 57th AG {not kidding}
And that was the run. I "ran" the entire run besides the ridiculous ramps/and steep hill jaunts that make the course a crazy rat race. I ran through the aid stations. And I ran to the finish. I was so glad to have so many people out there I knew. It was a mental game for me to attempt to enjoy this experience. My ankle/foot hurt with every step. My quads and hamstrings were steps away from cramps but the salt tabs, coke, and ice were doing their magic. My lower back was less barky than I thought it would be. I wished I had a visor. Yet, my smile worked. It was infectious. There was no use grimacing through the race. After mile 4, I asked Brian what my swim time was, I almost had a heart attack. I almost tripped on my face. I almost started crying. But what I did do was smile. Seriously, I did not believe him. Good thing the race wasn't on April 1. I knew that no matter how I finished, I would always have that swim. And so I smiled.

finish chute. yes i did look back and check for girls.

OA: 5:41:22
I ended up 25th in my ridiculously stacked "new" age group. Even though this was my slowest half ironman to date, even though it wasn't my hardest earned finish, this race will still hold a different place in my heart. I overcame obstacles and kept a mostly positive attitude. I will get my revenge for this race, maybe not at this race, but I wish to fully conquer the 70.3 distance in a way I know I'm fully capable of.

phew. filled with positive emotion and some tears.

I'm a tactical racer. I hate running. It's not about tactics, it's about laying it all out there. And I'm no good at that. Swimming is tactics and technique, course corrections and effort management. Cycling is very much about race planning, strategy, nutrition, pacing, course knowledge. Running is about pain and frustration and just isn't fun. I really really need to get stronger and much more efficient with this running game and I know I can enjoy it. But the journey getting there is tough.

thank you sherpa kyle.

P.S. I would pay good money to start with the male pro's and get the hole shot behind Andy Potts. I really really would like to know if I could hang with them and what I'm capable of without having to swim over and around the masses.

p.p.s I WANT THESE. BADLY.

Tape {Errr}

5:41 (50min after pro start). Slowest half to date.

I'm not really sure where to start with this Oceanside 70.3 race report, so here it goes. I finished. With a smile on my face. My journey to that finish line was one I wouldn't like to repeat, and it's not necessarily about lessons learned this time.

I suppose I'll start with this. I was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease in college. I'll spare the details, but it wasn't pretty. Scopes, colonoscopies, and too many visits to the gastroenterologist, I was finally able to move past the pain and flares and learn how to control the frequency. There is no exact cause or cure, so no use worrying about that stuff. It came down to stress, spicy foods, and Crystal Light.

Fast forward to two weeks ago. I had ZERO energy. I couldn't motivate myself to get out of bed to ride, run or swim. I had less of an appetite. I couldn't focus. Work has been super busy, so all my energy and focus has been diverted to making it through the day and being as productive as possible. I knew I wasn't over trained as I hadn't been reaching my potential with weekly mileage/time and running was severely cut since Carlsbad half. And then I remembered all these feelings and this pain.

And I knew it was back.

Last Monday I had a pre-op appointment for the tonsils. All the useless paperwork signing for anesthesia. I felt like crap when I woke up. I couldn't eat. I went home after that appointment and had to take a nap. I emailed my doctor and they called 40 min later and told me to go to the ER to see the gastro. I was in quite a bit of pain, so I went. And I sat and waited. And was there for 8 hours. Got some pain medication, which I don't like and I hate doing. I wasn't asked to give a stool sample when I got there or at any point until the end of the evening, after the pain meds which make me not able to go. I left with a fever and walking out I puked up the half of banana and apple juice in the parking lot. I slept like crap. I was angry at the system and mad at myself for taking the medication. Tuesday I went to the gastro and got a scope and they told me it takes 1-2 weeks to get the results.

Wednesday I was back to work and had a full schedule with three bike fit appointments and there were only 2 of us at the shop. Thursday and Friday were spent standing at the Oceanside expo for work in the Zipp booth for 10+ hour days.

Yeah, the taper wasn't looking so hot.

Since my body wasn't interested in me getting to the finish line, I knew my mind was going to have to work overtime. Race report to follow...

{tonsillectomy tomorrow, so it may be a minute for the RR}

Endless thanks to my husband {sherpa} for his love and care through all this crap. He has made getting through this much easier. Sometimes I give him a hard time {okay, a lot of time} but I truly couldn't do this without him. {even if I did call him the worst sherpa ever for posting himself at the bottom of a hill on the bike to take pics...seriously?}

why are you here and not there? :) #hungoversherpa