Brrrr!!

All I can say right now is that I'm grateful for the choices I've made in my life that have gotten me to this point, a place where I can safely and comfortably say that 55 degree water really isn't that cold. And that the face-numbing chill, really isn't that bad. After 7 years of open water diving, it's also nice that putting on a wetsuit takes me significantly less time than the average individual. Oh those poor souls who've only been training in indoor, 80 degree pools...they're in for a rough morning in t-minus 9 days and counting. Of course, these are the same individuals who, following the shock of the cold water, will most likely proceed to blow me away on the bike, so my pity is limited. But yes, I'm now in the home stretch and to be perfectly honest, I'm looking forward to writing that post that says "I did it!" I'm generally able to keep my nerves at bay but I have moments where I actually think that I'm going to be competitive, and those moments are usually followed by outright panic. More often, I recognize that I'm doing this race at this point simply for bragging rights. When I get that perspective then I think it's no big deal and it will just be fun. I much prefer that latter state of mind. And to help that, I've probably taken more time off than is strictly reasonable, but I figure if I'm just not looking forward to a particular training session, at this point there's no need to push it. Maybe this is my body's way of telling me to take it easy. Who knows. But I took enough time off to enjoy my Vegas vacation, and yet stayed active enough to combat that sense of losing fitness due to tapering (which is unfortunately coinciding with a peak in my metabolism). I consider my Vegas week to be high and dry training so I ran a bunch in my second favorite running locale after Boston. There was no biking to be done however so now after over a week off the bike, my phobia of riding has returned and I find myself making excuses not to go. Not good, I know. But I'm a tough chick, I think I'll pull through. I'll find out one way or another in a little over a week. Eek!!
It's strange though that after all the training I've put in since February, I still don't feel like I think an Ironman (or half) should. I don't feel like I'm in the best shape of my life and I have to wonder if since my first marathon (when I did feel that way) I've just kept myself in better overall fitness, thereby raising the bar. In other words, I don't feel different because I'm just overall in better shape than I was three years ago before beginning my adventures as an endurance athlete. I hope that's the case anyway.

Beantown

This has been a big week for me.  Not only was it my biggest training week, I also had finals and on Wednesday, moved most of my stuff down to my new apartment in Boston.  In terms of training, it was definitely a week during which my real life took priority over all else.  But despite the challenges, I think I managed to get in a decent week of workouts.  Monday was my long brick, 60 miles on the bike followed by 7 running.  Tuesday I swam as much as I could in the time the pool was open and by Wednesday at 10, finals were behind me and I was loading up my car.  I had to take Wednesday off but on Thursday after moving my furniture up from Connecticut, I squeezed in a 20+ mile ride around the Charles.  And Friday, I was truly happy as I relived my first marathon training days by running the route around the Charles.  It's the first time in a while I've smiled while running, and I completed 13 miles before my body was done.  So in total, I only skimped on the biking, which considering the state of the path around the river, was probably the best for my bike.

Now for some details...I woke up on Monday feeling nervous, not for my anatomy final but for the brick that would follow.  In my mind, it was the equivalent of the 20 mile run in my marathon training--my greatest distance and the workout that most closely simulates race day.  I came home, did some yoga and decided to bite the bullet and just go for it.  I had thoughts that if necessary, I would short-change the run, knowing that no matter what, I would finish on race day.  I decided it was more important to feel strong and end still smiling.  As it turned out, I started the run, expecting to walk a bunch and instead, ran the full 7 miles, plus a little bit.  And I didn't walk once.  I also crossed a major psychological hurdle for me and did the full run without music.  I'm a big fan of running with my music and was nervous for the race day when I would be without it.  As I discovered, I think I ran better without it.  At least at a more consistent pace and although I didn't time it, it felt pretty fast.  The best part about it all--I wasn't sore at all the next day.

As for Boston, I found an apartment a few weeks back and decided to move my stuff in before heading out on vacation next week.  Only I would choose to try and fit all this stuff into one week.  Anyway, I explored and discovered that my apartment is only about 1.5 miles from the Charles and after spending so much time running up there when my mom used to live in Boston, I was so happy to get back to it.  It's a great, flat course that follows the river on the north and south with multiple loop options over the variety of bridges, the longest being a little over 17.  It goes from Charlestown to Newton and back in.  The best part about it is the multiple surface options--dirt, asphalt, concrete (yuck!) and it's mostly shaded.  And gorgeous, if you go for the Boston cityscape.  I love heading out on the north side, past Harvard, and then running back in on the south, past BU, running towards the Prudential Center, the Citgo sign, and the route 93 suspension bridge, watching the various crew teams practicing and the plethora of small sailboats on sunny days.  I absolutely love Boston and this path is by far my favorite place to run, better even than running along the beach in Huntington, California.  It's so invigorating, surrounded by runners of all shapes and sizes.  It's inspiring and as I was biking, I couldn't wait to get out running the next day.  One thing though, I don't think I'll be biking it again--too many damn runners!

My run provided my only real "issue" of the week.  I've noticed that the biking seems to aggravate my hip injury, particularly the long distances.  I feel my piriformis tensing up and when I get out on the run, my hamstring tightens down in response.  After the first few miles I find that I have to stop every mile or so to stretch and release those muscles.  It's frustrating because I'm as fast and as strong as I've ever been, but my pace gets slowed by the constant stopping.  I'm looking forward to being surrounded by physical therapists in a few weeks!  I got pretty frustrated along the run and had to work hard to convince myself that it didn't matter.  I have an injury and I'm strong and healthy and this is just how it is...for now.  

So overall, it's been a successful week.  I feel pretty good about the race, not finishing pretty but finishing strong.  I love my apartment and am looking forward to heading back down there in a couple weeks to settle in, and I'm now officially a grad student.  And for the next 3 weeks, I've got nothing to do but train well, rest up, and enjoy my last few weeks of peace before beginning my grueling doctorate.  

Finally

Yesterday, I finally had the type of workout that I've been waiting for...it was fun!  It was this week's brick, put off for hangover purposes and coming the day after accidentally running 10 miles, but it felt great.  I biked 40 and for about 20 of it, was just cruising, crouched down and remembering all the reasons that I love biking.  The run that followed was still awkward as hell, and I could have used some additional fuel, but I still ran 5 miles in just over 40 minutes, so I'm pretty impressed with myself.  Quite a change from last week.  But I did figure out a few more things about biking, and I guess the training is not just physical.  For instance, there are 27 gears for a reason.  I sometimes get so tired I forget to shift, or I wait too long out of some sense of shame in downshifting (no idea where that comes from).  Yesterday, I not only remembered that I had all these gears, and remembered that they actually all work on my new bike, I used them.  I decided that burning leg pain on the very first climb of the ride wasn't the smartest idea if I wanted to be able to ride 30, 40, or 50 miles more, plus tack on a run at the end.  This isn't a sprint, it's ok to slow down if it means saving something for the long haul.  I think it actually gave me a much better, more consistent overall pace yesterday, but I've also given up looking at the clock, so I don't know for sure.  I've also discovered that I can deal witht the wind...just downshift, keep your head down, and plug on through.  And the good thing about a headwind on an out and back ride is that unless there's some monumental shift in the weather, you'll have a tailwind coming home.  And as a final bonus, I rode most of the way up my street yesterday.  That may not sound like much, but I've been considering my street as the ultimate hill training portion of each ride and therefore not too concerned that I can't make it all the way.  You see, my street climbs 300 vertical feet in less than a tenth of a mile.  Using my rough trigonometry skills, that makes it just about a 25-30% grade above horizontal.  For perspective, the first time I rode up it I had a backpack full of books on...my front wheel came off the ground.  So when I can ride 80% of it before having to stop and let my body deliver oxygen to my quads, I feel pretty good.  

Things I've Learned

I intended to save this kind of a post for the end of my half iron journey, but in light of last week's panic, I think it's time to take stock of what I've gained from this adventure thus far. Besides, this was all that was going through my mind on today's ride.

1. Eating a banana on a bike is a lot harder than I thought it would be, but is a great, easily digestible snack that isn't energy gel.

2. After only 3 rides outside in the last week on my new bike, I can feel pretty comfortable saying that I'm getting stronger already.

3. I hit the panic button way too soon (see above).

4. Most drivers don't know how to handle a biker on the road, choosing to wait and follow, hoping for some engraved invitation to pass, prompting me to think that they're only staring at my ass.

5. I'm at the point where I can say that today I only rode 30 miles.

6. Despite these gains in biking strength, it remains my weakest link, an extremely surprising turn of events considering that until a year ago, I couldn't swim more than 3 or 4 lap without stopping for a break. I can comfortably and pretty easily swim a mile already.

7. After years of sprinting, I think I'm a full fledged distance runner. Friday's brick of 30/4, I averaged 7:55 per mile, without trying to.

8. The bike to run transition is quite possibly one of the most awkward sensations I've had athletically, topping every crazy yoga pose I know. There's just no other way to say it, it sucks! But it does go away after a mile or so and some stretching.

9. Two pomegranete martinis the night before a 40/5 brick isn't the wisest decision, hence the reason today was only 30 miles, followed by some physics, room cleaning, and hopefully, early to bed. I definitely lack willpower sometimes, but I'm learning to be flexible with my schedule and listen to my body. It's better to swap the brick for later in the week and avoid another bout of gastritis.

10. I may never be an Ironman triathlete, but I'm becoming more and more impressed with myself and my relatively late start at this event. And, I garner quite a bit of awe and respect from the kids I go to school with. I'm definitely the hot older woman...

Well, that's a partial list for now. Things have definitely improved since my last post. I've done a couple of "positive reinforcement rides", rides as flat as I can find, just to feel like I'm getting somewhere. And I've come up with a much better training strategy I think, one that should allow me to do some challenging rides and yet still feel accomplished. And, with a few minor adjustments (like my trusty old bike seat, the Liberator) and some actual fuel on the bike, I can do my 30 miles in about an hour and a half, which was where I'd hoped to be. I still have yet to really learn the lesson that this isn't, or shouldn't be, about time but more about the experience and the sense of accomplishment, but I'm getting there. I'm just way too competitive with myself. If I weren't, I probably wouldn't push myself so much and I still be working for the aquarium...

WTF???

I am officially terrified...and in way over my head. Or at least that's how I felt on my ride today. I had so hoped to make this post a triumphant recounting of an amazing ride that settled all my remaining anxieties about this race. I intended to give a proper retirement post to my trusty old touring bike, the General and introduce my younger, sexier bike to the world. Instead, I finished my ride in near tears, white faced and on the phone to my mom, hoping she could make it all better. I had such a run of good luck last week--a scholarship from MGH, a great apartment in Boston that's mine as of today, and finally taking possesion of my new Trek, outfitted with all that I thought I'd need to make the biking portion of this endeavor more manageable. I guess I was a bit unrealistic in my expectations. The bike is great, and light and quiet and new and shiny...all those things. But it also required me to stop 4 times to readjust the seat, only to find that the stem is still just a bit too long and whatever was wrong with my seat positioning, it caused my feet to go numb. Do you know how hard it is to ride 40+ miles with numb feet? But still, I was being patient with it all, accepting that it was my first ride on my new bike and it would take time. In the end, I find myself back at home, once again rationalizing all the reasons why my ride wasn't as great as I thought it should be--wind, frost heaves and potholes, crazy climbs, not enough food with me. What I realize now though is that this is just how it is. My ride will be filled with hills, frost heaves and potholes, and wind...all I can do is work with it. But I'm so terrified that I won't be able to do this. I mean, I know I'll finish, but I set the bar so high for myself and it's hard to accept that I might not be the badass that I thought I was. And I don't expect anyone to really understand, but while the rest of my friends are getting married, having babies, buying houses, I'm trying to train and prove that I'm more than I used to believe I was. I'm making life choices that might not make sense to people, but my life has brought me here and I have to go with it. I guess I'm just trying to find the words to express why I'm being so hard on myself, why I'm so scared and I'm coming up short. But I am nothing if not resilient, so on the plus side, I finished my ride and within minutes, felt that I could go out and run, so I suppose my recovery time is improving. And with a little bit of extra glucose and nutrients, I would probably not have felt so weak and pathetic at the end. And, I managed to use my aero bars a bunch and once I got comfortable with the relative instability, really loved that position.



I did manage to ride the rest of my race route today, so now I've seen all of it, including where I'll be running. At first I was psyched, riding this road along the lake. Outside of the wind coming off the water, the ride was great. The road had gentle hills and the view was amazing. But then, it started to get bumpy. Really bumpy. The view could no longer distract me as I rode along, bumping, thumping, losing power to the road, wondering what all this bumping was doing to sensitive parts of my body that, should I ever find myself in a relationship again, I'd like to still have fully functional. And then I saw the sign, "Frost Heaves". Well, what the f- had I been riding on?? How much worse could it get? Fortunately for me, frost heave signs up here are about as informative as deer or moose crossing signs--they're everywhere and there's no guarantee that they mean anything. What would have been more helpful would have been a sign saying "Big ass climb approaching, eat your gu now." Too bad...I'm starting to go along well again, the road is smoothing out, and then... f#*k me! Sorry for the expletives, but that's what was going through my mind. I believe I actually said it out loud as well. Ok, low gear, switch back up the road, hope that no cars are coming, and hope like hell that there's a sweet downhill on the other side. To be honest though, the ride was really ok outside of that stretch of road and I should take comfort in the fact that in the entire route, there's only that one nasty climb and the rest of the roads may have actually been paved in my lifetime. And in one of my more lucid moments on the ride, I managed to have the thought that if there was no challenge, then this race wouldn't be worth doing. I later laughed at my naivete as my blood sugar bottomed out...

My sweet new ride...we have a love hate relationship thus far

And one final positive note...the lake has finally thawed out. Progress, in slow increments, is progress nonetheless.