InnerTeub

My friend and fellow Ironman (HELL YEAH) Chris once commented that the only reason people do Ironman races is because of a deathly combination of age and stupidity.

He’s a therapist, so he clearly knows what he’s talking about.

ANYWAY. The Ironman happened. I almost don’t even know where to begin, so I will start by pointing out that I made the “Idaho? WHO’S A HO?” joke about 23 times in my head while riding. Hey, it’s a 7 hour bike ride: you have to make your own fun.

Couer d’Alene Idaho is a gorgeous, gorgeous place. I’m told it looks a lot like Tahoe, with it’s deep lake surrounded by mountains; I’ve never been to Tahoe, but I’ll go with it. It was amazing. The house we rented had a deck that looked out to the lake and the mountains and it was just… I mean, regardless of the race, this was a great place for a week long summer vacation with friends.

Speaking of the lake: It was 58 degrees. That is SO COLD, you guys.  But, we got there early so we could acclimate, and we did. By race day (Sunday), the water felt damn near refreshing. We went swimming the day after the race and it was like a full body ice pack; I felt fully recovered after that swim, all my muscles finally cool and relaxed.

Speaking of the race: Oh, hell. There is just no way around it: This was just not any fun. Let’s go step by step:

Swim:

Swim is my favorite triathlon category. I’m good at it, I get into a zone, I can get it done. This swim was two loops in the lake, and I felt like I was on a good path to negative split, but on the second loop the current and the swells kicked up, keeping my pace even with the first loop. I posted a decent time, but I worked for it. My overall time was 1:20, which is significantly slower than my last IM (1:12), but everyone in our group claimed similar drop off in times; as long as I’m consistent with the field, I’m ok with that.

2500 of My Closest Friends...

Bike:

Hm. Well. Ok. The hills on this bike were not insignificant. We drove the course the Friday before, and all of us got veeerrrryyy quiet, reassessing how we thought we’d do, taking in the sheer mountain climbing that needed to happen. Mentally, this drive really threw me off my game.

It turns out I enjoy climbing hills, and passed consistently while doing so. More tellingly, I wasn’t passed a single time going up hill.  (Of course, everyone and their mother passed me going downhill and on the flats. Whatever).

I was worried the climbing would kill my legs for the marathon, so I tried to be as conservative as possible on the first loop and on the flats. I let everyone pass me in the first 20 miles, thinking to myself: “Man, you must SUCK at swimming” (Hey, I gotta let myself feel good about getting out of the water in front of them, right?)

Second bike loop went ok, but I was starting to feel off nutritionally. A nice little low point came for me when I threw up while ON my bike,while climbing a hill. I knew something was off — HR too high, hydration not right, but, what can you do? I tried to triage and get off the damn bike already.

Run.

“Run” Ha. So cute. Except for the first mile, I did not run a single step of this marathon. What I wrote to my coach the day after the race:

Got out, ran the first mile, legs happy to be moving, hips happy to be off the bike. And then I threw up. Again. My heart went into tachycardia and was skyrocketing up, and my field of vision was blacking. I was definitely dehydrated, which is usually the main cause of my heart freaking out, so I quickly rescaled my plan to hydrate as much as possible and get my body temp down so I could get my HR down and start running again. Walking briskly allowed me to keep field of vision and keep fluids in, so…that was my plan.

Around mile 10ish I wanted to try running again (legs! felt great!) and immediately lost sight and started retching, and had to take a little moment on the ground (read: I fell over) which was the point the volunteers were like “yeah, you’re done”. Luckily (?) I was able to convince medical that I didn’t need treatment, I’d be fine standing up in juuuuust a second, and could I please have some water?
By that point I was just waiting out the sun, hoping if the temps cooled I could get my body heat down and subsequently my HR. That didn’t actually work; my heart stayed in tachycardia the entire time. I was able to take in (and keep in) exactly zero calories on the run. (“run”), but again, my legs still felt strong, and I was able to walk about a 13 min pace on that back half. Finished the marathon pissed and out of it, and walked myself directly to medical, where me and the cardio doc hung out for a bit, I went home and was all “ironman, bitches!

You guys, I did not care one bit if I finished this race. Not one little bit. When my heart goes into SVT, I can stop it, but not while running a marathon. And I swear to you, I did not care. What do you prove, finishing a race like an Ironman? Especially two hours after you thought you would? You prove nothing. The proof of awesomeness lies in the dedication of daily training, for weeks, months. Training for this race I saw my body get fitter, faster, and I felt more control of it than I ever have. That feeling doesn’t change by the actions of one day. One day, out of so, so many. I swear to you: I did not care if I finished this race.

But. And this is a significant “but”: I mean, I was there. Maybe it was because I saw someone who had already finished wearing a finishers shirt, and it looked nice, and I wanted it.  Maybe it’s because my husband was out there, finishing on a broken foot. Or my friend Chris, not having the day he wanted, either, but finishing regardless. Maybe it’s because I knew – after I was done being scared that my heart was really screwy, and when I realized that I could mitigate the screwyness – I *could* finish, and I was just being grumpy that I wasn’t finishing the way I wanted to, and that’s not really the person I want to be.

Walking a marathon is not fun. I did not have fun, finishing this race. I was confused and scared that my heart was acting up, after so many years of not. I shuffled my way down the finish shoot and directly into the medical tent, forcing the cardio doc there to pay attention to me until normal heart rhythm returned.

I felt good, the next day. My legs felt great. I have the muscle for the Ironman, but not the heart. Not on Sunday, anyway.

But you know what else I have? I have wonderful, wonderful friends, who think it is a good idea to spend our weekends out riding our bikes, running up hills, throwing weights around, doing pull ups, and spending their summer vacation by a lake in Idaho, who have built with me this wonderful, wonderful life encompassing fitness and laughter and lots and lots of food.  What’s one day of a heart being screwy, when I have a whole life of that? Ironman isn’t the day, it’s all the days that get you there.

And a healthy dose of old age and stupidity never hurt, either.

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Ironman is this weekend. Like, a few days from now. Like…soon.

A friend of mine posted a “Good Luck!” message of sorts on Facebook. My reply is slightly indicative of how I feel about this:

So… yeah.

This is not to say that I feel like because I’ve done an IM I will coast through this one. If anything, I’m more curious/concerned than I was last time. It’s the oddest feeling:  I’m much stronger and a much better athlete than I was two years ago when I attempted Ironman, but my ability to fully dedicate to training wasn’t there. (Some of that is work’s fault, some of that is my fault, but it doesn’t matter why now, does it?)

A few weeks ago I joined my friend Chris in his last long training day. He has followed a much more traditional training plan that has been much more time intensive, and, frankly, he’s been much more dedicated to training than I have been. I was curious to see if I could keep up with him.

The workout was a 2 hour ride, 40 minute run, three times through.

It sucked. But… I mean, not really. I can’t say I felt better than him at the end, but I don’t think I felt worse. So I’m hoping that’s an indicator that the race will go Ok, as long as I’m not a monumental dumbass on race day.

One thing I do know about myself, after five years of endurance racing: My ability to continue moving forward, regardless of the distance and time,  is very strong.

So, if you’re puttering around on Sunday, think of me, hopefully continuing to move forward.

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After writing my hissy fit post, I woke up to get in another long pre-work training: a 13 mile run that HAD to be done by 7am.

So that’s like a two hour workout, meaning I had to be out the door by NLT 5am, which means, oh MAN this is the type of math that NEVER ends well.

Anyway! It’s ok! Cause we’re nearing the finish! And I gotta get it in, so no use bitching! Etc!

I got out the door, maybe a few minute late but still within the zone, and got moving. And it was hot. It was humid. It was early. My body is tired. I was one big moving interpretation of the word “Grumble.”

And then at mile 5:

Man, I just love running in my city. Because moments like that, it totally feels like MY city, like I get it all to myself, sharing only with those other fools who are up doing the same thing.

It ended up being  a great run. I was damn near delirious near the end, but I got it in and done and felt great. And while the rest of the day was unbelievably hectic, I love those moments of IM training where you think “It’s working out, I’m getting it done. I am having fun with this. Now someone bring me some effing food.”

So, that’s all well and good, but the best part of this story, by far, is the fact that that picture? Was taken with my iPhone. Handy that I had that with me, right? It fits perfectly in the back pocket of my running/tri top, and bringing it with me was like the Best Idea Ever… until I got home and found a chafed section on my lower back in the exact shape of an iPhone.

You guys. I gave myself an iPhone tramp stamp. The roads between trashy and geeky have intersected on my lower back.

Truly, Ironman training changes your life in ways you never thought possible.

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Soooooooooooooo. Yes. I have both a blog and an IM training schedule. Both have been slightly neglected.

The race is soon. Frighteningly soon. And I’m still screwing up nutrition on the bike, which is Seriously Freaking Me Out. Most long rides I have been doing I have just felt … god, I dunno, so TIRED about 2 hours in.  My last long ride I full on bonked 1.5 hours in, indicating the nutrition I have been using is just plain not working, which, I mean, from a learning perspective I suppose is nice, but it’s not helping me get the mileage in.

I can be thankful that at least I have friends that take pictures while in motion, however:

I had grand plans to get in a solid mid week ride this morning (3x 10 mile time trials), which is a longish ride for the morning but not undoable, especially with daylight starting so early. No problem, right? So of course I managed to get a flat 8 miles in, which is theoretically not a big deal, but then my spare tube wouldn’t inflate, and a friend who stopped to help ALSO couldn’t get another tube to inflate, and I had to call for a ride to come save me. Ugh, a full morning wasted, for both me AND Mike, who had to abandon his workout to pick me up.

How many bike tubes does it take to get me home ...

Two botched rides is not necessarily a recipe for disaster, but we’re at that point in training where every little thing just seems more overwhelming than the next.

Two people in one house training for for the same Ironman is AWESOME if you need companion for training rides/runs/swims, or even just for someone to listen to you while you debate the nutritional merits of eGels vs Gu vs Gatorade. Two people in one house training for the same Ironman is NOT awesome if you need someone to, say, take care of shit. Handle life. Grocery shop, pick up dry cleaning, clean the house, walk the dog, do laundry, fold laundry, put away laundry, do laundry again. Make dinner. Clean up dinner. Etc.  All the little maintenancy life things that have to happen to keep things moving along that get downgraded on the priority list when IM training really gears up.

Or, as I so delicately put it the other day: “We need a wife.”

Anyway, so that’s where we are. I’m out of time to make up botched workouts, which means sitting on the side of the road this morning trying to get in a third tube to my damn front wheel was basically the most frustrating thing in the world. But that’s ok. It’s all part of the process, and I’ve been here before. But man, you know: ugh. Just… ugh.

Which is all to say: we’ve decreed a “One IM Training Person At A Time” rule in our house. Assuming we ever do this again. Which we will. Because if there is one thing I have learned about triathlon, it’s that you never remember this feeling. Never.

Hopefully next time I’m feeling  it, I’ll have wife waiting at home, cooking me breakfast after cleaning the house. Man, a girl can dream, right?

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So, I’ve been using a Crossfit based Ironman training plan, courtesy of my coach Jen, which has a lot of benefits, not the least of which is greatly improving my running music, as the old stuff was WAY too mellow to keep up pace with the interval speeds. Which is likely why I was running so slow. Or an indicator of.  Whatever. Either way: if it’s not keeping up the beat, it’s not helping me, so: yay! new music!

Anyway. As a part of this plan I hit up CrossFit Capitol Hill three times a week (theoretically – in practice, um, well, err, I do my best), and this morning we did a workout combination of push/press lifting and then 10x: 10 overhead lunges (w/25 lb weight) and 10 burpees.

So that’s 10 lunges and 10 burpees, repeated 10 times through. Right? Right.

My friend Haley saw this in my workout log this morning, and commented: “You did 100 OH lunges and 100 burpees? Wow.”

To which I promptly replied: “No, I just did that set 10 times through.”

{pause}

“Ok, yes, yes I did do 100 of each”

….

You guys. Seriously. Ironman training has NOT been good for my mind. To everyone I used to teach statistics: I am Really Really sorry.

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When prepping for this race, it occurred to me that I haven’t actually done an official “register and pay money and then show up on time and run with people” race since Ironman Arizona in 2008. This might explain why I spent 30 minutes wondering around trying to find where to rack my bike prior to the start.

I kid.

But seriously, I’m out of practice for this. In a previous life – one where I raced with some sort of frequency – I would have known all the details of where to be when and where to get my packet pick up and who was racing with me and blah blah blah. As it was, I found myself hitting the internet around 11pm the night before, hoping there was race day packet pick up and and wondering if I’d know anyone there.

The race started at 9, packet pick up started at 7. The start is about two miles from my house, which is actually just a nice warm up run. Well, I mean, it would have been a nice warm up run, except I drove anyway. Look, it was raining, and I was having a crisis of clothing (jacket? no jacket? etc, plus I wanted to drink my coffee on the way and didn’t have a disposable cup. Also, I’m lazy. Also, I waited until the morning of to try to figure this out and ran out of time. Also, I didn’t know how long it would…well, whatever: Race planning FAIL.)

I parked by the White House and ran to the start (about .25 miles as per Garmin. Yes, I drove to a two mile away race and parked a quarter mile away from the start I KNOW) I got there around 8, got my race number and timing chip, and then shivered for the next 58 minutes.

So, I suck at racing shorter distance: I either start way too fast and burn out or wait too long to ramp up. In terms of mental effort, I honestly feel that a half marathon is easier to pace than a 10k. Additionally, I actually don’t know how long an 8k race is; I spent the majority of the race trying to do the math and figure out how close I was to done. Seriously, this is what my thought process looked like for, oh, say, 30 minutes of the race:

“If a 5k is 3.1 miles and a 10k is 6.2, then an 8k HAS to be between those two distances…oooh, maybe’s it’s only 4 miles! I’m almost done! Wait, no, that doesn’t work out, ok, since i know it’s less than 6 but HOW MUCH less than six are we talking more than 5? That doesn’t… Wait, no, ok, so if a 5k is 3.1 miles and a 10k is 6.2 miles…”

You guys. I used to teach statistics. Competently. This is horrifying. If we ever switch to the metric system I am screwed.

ANYWAY. It turns out that 8k is almost exactly 5 miles. I finished with a 8:50ish minute/mile pace, which is funny to me because… yeah, that’s my half marathon pace. Using run/walk. Once again, I prove my utter inability to pace for a shorter race. That being said, it was a solid effort for me; I got the beginning of side stiches around the 4 mile mark, which dropped my pace considerably, and I was able to push into the final kick, but not a ton. Effort wise I think I was dead on.

So really, I just need to repeat that race 5 more times, after a 112 mile bike and 2.4 mile swim, and I’ll be an ironman! Woo!

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One of the best parts about being a triathlete is the fact that if you do it long enough, most of your social circle becomes triathletes, too. This is great as training no longer becomes something that takes you away from your friends, but something that you are already doing WITH your friends.  You still go to brunch on the weekend, you just all go after your workout. (Appropriately labeled: Sweaty brunches. We never claim to be creative, ok?) There is point at every summer where I realize I have more social interaction BEFORE work – at training rides, runs, or at the pool — than I do after. Sick. But also: awesome.

Anyway, I bring this up because, you know what? I REALLY MISS BEING OUTSIDE ON A BIKE WITH MY FRIENDS.

Ridin' Along...

Just another day on our bikes...

Post Training Run...

Instead, here I am. On my trainer. Inside. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be riding on a sunny day with my friends right now…

Stupid Winter

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