2014 Race Calendar

Not all of these will make the final cut, because there's some date conflicts  It's either Nike Women's DC or La Jolla.  I might add Heartbreak Ridge in September.

After taking most of 2013 off it's nice to have a full calendar again.

Sunday, January 19, 2014	Carlsbad Half Marathon
Saturday, February 08, 2014	Mermaid Half Marathon
Saturday, February 22, 2014	Women's Running San Diego Half Marathon
Sunday, March 09, 2014	San Diego Half Marathon & 5K
Sunday, March 16, 2014	St Patrick's Day Hooleys to Hooleys Half Marathon
Sunday, April 27, 2014	Nike Women's DC
Sunday, April 27, 2014	La Jolla Half Marathon
Sunday, May 04, 2014	Safari Park Half Marathon
Saturday, May 10, 2014	Girls on the Go Half Marathon, 10K & 5K
Sunday, June 01, 2014	Rock 'n' Roll San Diego Marathon & Half Marathon
Sunday, June 22, 2014	Mammoth Half Marathon
Sunday, July 06, 2014	Costume Party Run
Sunday, August 17, 2014	America's Finest City
Sunday, October 19, 2014	Nike Women's SF
Sunday, November 02, 2014	New York Marathon
Sunday, December 28, 2104	San Diego Holiday Half

A Farewell To Socks

Like most athletes, I'm a little obsessive about my gear.  Well, some of my gear.  Other stuff I don't give a crap about.  For instance, running shoes - don't really care.  I'll run in any decent minimalist shoe.  On the other hand, there is only one running bra I will even consider and that's the magically bounce eliminating Freya Underwire Running Bra.  Underwire.  I recommend that bra to women like it's my job.

I also have one pair of extra special socks that I save for my longest runs.  I'd bet I've run 400 miles in those socks, probably more.  I think I've worn them for every race I've run in the last 4 years. Today I had a 16 mile run on the calendar. Of course, I pulled out my fav socks.  I wish - oh how I wish - I knew what brand and style of socks these are.  These socks were actually a giveaway at a race expo a few years ago.  For months I've watched them get progressively more threadbare and this morning I debated switching to a pair that wasn't about to fall apart, but decided they could make one more long run.

I was about halfway through my run when I realized the heel of my sock had disintegrated. I was on my way to one epic blister and 8 miles from my car. (How do you force yourself to run 16 miles?  You don't.  You force yourself to run 8 miles.  The last 8 miles are a desperate attempt to get home.)  I managed to stuff some paper towel inside my sock and it miraculously held up for the remainder of the run.

And I held up for 17 miles, overrunning my training goal by a mile.

Double Digit Mileage - Oopsie!

I took the last two weeks off from running for a trip to South America.  I packed my running gear, but there was so much to do that running took the back seat to drinking wine and eating beef.  I don't know how the people of Argentina and Chile stay so thin since they have so much yummy food and wine and they consume it in USA-sized quantities.  I know how Europeans stay slender: portion control.  South Americans seems to eat big, eat late and drink all day.  They have some miracle metabolic gene while I have a fatty-fatty-bombalaty gene. (I started posting trip stuff at: http://thirteenhourflight.blogspot.com/.)

This Saturday, it was time to pay the piper.  I was a bit behind on my training calendar and needed to do an 8 miler.  Since I hadn't run that distance in awhile, I decided to do the ultra-flat bay loop.

Here's the problem with doing the bay loop.  It's boring.  Buh-buh-buh-boring.  When I'm driving to the bay, I can see the highway exit for my all-time favorite run in San Diego: Sunset Cliffs.  From the name, you can deduce it's a hilly run with some 10-14% grades.  Despite my distaste for hills, I cannot resist the beauty of that run.

It was a challenge, but I felt really good and ended up tacking on two extra miles.  Felt good, but my quadriceps where screaming on Sunday.

New Team Starts Earlyish

I'm starting with a new running team tomorrow morning bright and are-you-kidding-me early.

It's been nearly 2 years since I ran with a team.  I've been running - or not - whenever I woke up on Saturday morning.  Tonight I spent roughly an hour prepping for the A.M.

Hat
Running dress
Shoes
Socks
Peanut butter shot
Water bottle
Recovery drink
Water bottle
Phone
Cash
Directions to the meeting up point.

I think I've got everything.  Oh and guess what time we start. Guess.

5:30 A.M.

Really.

I'm In!!

After years of entering the lottery, I finally got a spot in the race. I'm nowhere near marathon condition, but the New York Marathon has always been my dream. There's so much to figure out...race calendars, hotels, travel, training plans, running partners.


Right now, I'm not worrying too much about anything.  I'm just thrilled to be in it.

Vineman Ironman 70.3 - Run Leg: What Happened to My Beautiful Plan?

As someone who's run more than 40 half marathons, I was confident that I'd be fine on the run. Hubris! I was okay on the first three miles, but then I started to get a tummy ache from the Gatorade. That's when I did something boneheaded. I stopped taking Gatorade at the aid stations. With the broken bike, my race had gone on nearly an hour longer than I expected and you can't race unless you consistently replace electrolytes.

After awhile, my stomach ache subsidied, but the long uphill run in the afternoon sun just toasted me. By mile six I was cramping a bit, but I wasn't all that tired. For a long while, I could see a guy running behind me in the distance. When I walked he walked and when I ran he ran. I convinced myself to keep pushing for him, because I knew I was setting the pace for him. If I quit, so would he. Like I said. Moral support - rule legal and greatly appreciated.

After the turnaround, I ran into the tie-dye guy who talked me through the bike repair attempt. I'm not sure when I passed him, but he was still on the outbound leg of the run.  I ran over and hugged him.  I love you tie-dye guy!

It was slow going, but at least I was going until about mile 9.  That's when I started cramping horribly. I couldn't push off to run without my calves locking up entirely.  The last 3 miles of the course took me over an hour to walk.  I was losing so much time that I was afraid the course would close.  I decided that it was a public street and they couldn't force me off the course.  I'd finish that race even if they were done giving out finishers' medals and they'd all gone home.

Luckily, it didn't come to that.  I got to finisher's chute and there was Steve cheering for me.  Actually, the volunteers waved me into the wrong chute and it ended in a dead end.  Steve had to tell me to go under the rope and run to the actual finish line.

Ah, sweet relief and sweet victory.  Broken bike, crampy run, fear - you can all kiss my Finisher's Medal.  I did it!

Vineman Ironman 70.3 - Bike Leg: Not Exactly As I Planned It

I got off to a smooth start which is something a lot of competitors can't say. Immediately after the bike mount line is a very short, sharp uphill. In my research, I learned that I should run up the hill and mount at the top of the hill. I did that weaving through people who were toppling over like dominoes on the incline.

I was going well when my shifter broke on mile 5. I was stuck in my big ring for 30 miles of rolling hills. I stopped once to try and fix it myself, but I was losing so much time that I decided to ride in the big ring. Vineman is endless rolling hills though the vineyards of Sonoma County. On every hill people passed me climbing blissfully in their small ring. Irritating. I decided that:

1.  I was going to ride anyway. If I failed to finish, it wouldn't be because I quit. Big ring? Tough it out cupcake.
2. I was going to get mechanical help to put the bike into the small ring at the aid station at mile 30. I'd use the small ring to climb Chalk Hill and then I'd manually move it to the big ring for the long descent. I felt good about my strategy, but lost at least 20 minutes at the bike mechanic at mile 30. Ouch. That hurt.

After climbing Chalk Hill, I stopped and moved my chain into my big ring. It fought me and the chain jammed. A really nice man in a tie-dye shirt stopped to talk me through the repair. It meant more to me than I can say that someone stopped their own race to cheer on another participant. As a competitor, you can't accept tools or assistance. Moral support is allowed and greatly, greatly appreciated.

Unfortuately, it was all for naught. As soon as I started pedalling, the bike went right back to the small ring. GRRR! I spent the nearly entire race slowed by using the wrong chain ring - big ring for climbing and small ring for descent. Plus, I lost a good 30-40 minutes on trying to fix it.

But here is the good news, as I was pedaling toward the bike finish, I realized I had conquered the bike leg. No matter what happened in the rest of the race, I was now officially a cyclist. A big part of the reason I wanted to do the triathlon was to conquer my fear of the bike because Steve loved riding. I did it!

As I came into the bike transition, I had to ride past people who were finishing their run. I did start in one of the last swim waves, so some of these people had started the race an hour and a half before I did. However, I also knew that my bike leg was ridiculously long due to the gearing and attempted repairs. It was crushing. Then I heard my friend Melissa cheer my name and it lifted my spirits.  There's nothing quite like seeing a friendly face on the course.

Vineman Ironman 70.3 - Swim Leg: Exactly As I Planned It

After so much build up and stress, it was finally race day. Steve walked me to the start and stayed with me until my swim wave began.  I had jitters, but once my wave got into the water I felt absolutely calm and focused.

Vineman has the most beautiful swim that you can imagine. It's a picturesque mountain river and everywhere you look it's California redwoods and lush pine trees.  This photo is my race start and it doesn't do it justice.  It's absolutely stunning.

My stroke was even paced and relaxed. The one funny thing was that one swimmer kept smacking me. On the outbound leg she went exactly my pace and was constantly next to me and smacking. I finally got clear of her and thought that was the end of smacky-girl. On the return leg she would surge forward - smacking me on her way past, then fall back and smack me while she fell backward.

Finally, I caught the wake of one of the male competitors and rode his wave right to the swim finish.  As I headed into the transition zone I was sad to have the swim end, it was so incredibly fun and beautiful.

Vineman Ironman 70.3 - Pre-Race Jitters (now with more nausea!)

We planned to have 2 days in Sonoma before the race and two days after the race.  As my friend Chris said to me, “It’ll be this totally awesome vacation with one sucky day in the middle of it.”

2 days to Vineman:  On Friday, we drove the race course. These are winding, country backroads and Steve was in love with them.  He wanted to ride all of them. The bike course was a lot of rolling hills, but nothing I couldn’t handle.  Chalk Hill Road, which I had worked up in my head to an epic mountian climb, was nothing more than a mile long hill - challenging, but within my ability.  There were also a few sharp, technical turns.  In fact the course was so bendy it took us several hours to drive the 56 miles. We also drove the run course which made me far less happy.  It was rolling hills, but overall it was an uphill climb for the first 6 miles.  Not happy with that.  Not happy at all.  I was stressed out but no worse than I’ve been for the last few weeks - a combo of worried and teary.

1 day to Vineman:  The day before the race I was nearly sick with stress.  I wanted to vomit.  Constantly.

We planned to drive over to the transition 2 area to pick up our bikes and my race packet.  Vineman is a logistical challenge for participants because transition 1 is roughly twenty miles from transition 2.  That means you need to set up T2 the day before the race and get to T1 with your wetsuit and bike on race morning.

Steve planned to go for a bike ride while I went to the mandatory participant meeting.  At the last second, he decided to go the participant’s meeting with me. In the meeting I had the completely stoopid moment that I have before every race where I think, “I’m too fat; everyone else is fitter and better prepared than I am. I don’t belong here.”  It’s idiotic.  I trained my chubby butt to be here and I’m ready.

We picked up our bikes and I did my check ride.  I was less than a mile into my ride when I threw my chain. Fixed it; threw it again.  Fixed it again; threw it again.  Fixed it and, threw it a fourth time.  Finally nursed it back to Steve and Karl.  Karl is the owner of Velotranz, the company that shipped my bike.  Karl is also a master bike mechanic.  He spent the entire afternoon adjusting the shifting on my bike.  It was a series of fixes check rides and chain throws, complete with me being teary and sick.  (Oh, the fun!)  He stuck with it and he got my bike fixed.

At some point when Steve and Karl were working on my bike I headed in the T2 zone and dropped my gear in a pile.  I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to race and just dropped whatever I had in my bag: running shoes, a few Gu’s, my water bottle...I don’t know.  Frustrated, frightened, and bikeless is no way to set up your transition zone.

Finally, we grabbed some dinner and headed home.  Ready or not, race day comes.

The Most Specialest Chain Ring Bolt in all the World

Before every race I go through a period where I hate my gear.  I fret that my sneakers will give me blisters, my bra will chafe and my water bottle is too big.  Being a triathlete brings this to a whole new level of angst - my wetsuit, my pedals, my cleats.  In the past 10 days, I've stressed out about them all.

The one exception is my bike; I love my bike.  Unfortunately, it's been an endless source of hassles for poor Steve.  When I said I wanted a triathlon ready mixte, I thought I was asking Steve to find me a something unique, but within the Earthly realm.  What I didn't know was that it would be an endless pursuit of esoteric bike parts from thirty years ago - special cranks shipped here from France, special everything.  I wasn't just asking Steve to find me a unicorn.  I was asking Steve to find me the one unicorn that breathes rainbows and farts out glitter.  And he did it.

Last night, at 10pm he was doing his final check on the unicorn-bicycle.  We needed to give the bike to the transport company today at noon.  I'm not good at bike maintenance and Steve was dutifully making sure every item was in perfect working order.

Then.
It.
Happened.

He was ratcheting down a loose nut on my spectacular Stronglight chain ring and the bolt broke in half.  This is a Very Special bolt and the bike wasn't safe to ride without it because the chain rings might...I don't know, self destruct or immolate or something.  Steve was devastated because he knew that bolt was pretty much irreplaceable.

Emergency emails to our local bike shop owner followed. (Heart you Velocult!)  In the end, Steve had to rip apart one of his favorite bikes to give me a safe and suitable crank for the big climbs.  Velocult was nice enough to do some final emergency work on my bike so we could meet the transportation company deadline.

We made the noon bike transport with minutes to spare.

Heat Training

When I signed up for the Vineman race, I assumed that Northern California would be much cooler than Southern California.  Wrong.  Vineman is one of the hotter races in the Ironman calendar.

Like most larger people, I suffer more in the heat than skinny minnie athletes.  For the last few weeks, I've been trying to do my long runs and rides in the heat.  Last weekend on Saturday, I went for a 15 mile run in the sweltering heat starting at 1pm.

On Sunday, my husband, Steve, volunteered to accompany me on a training ride in the midday heat.  The only person who dislikes the heat more than I do is Steve.  About 5 miles in, we started pedaling up the hill on the Route 52 bike path.  Pssst.  I got a flat.

The 52 bike path is brutally hot and there is no shade. Steve can change a flat in under a minute.  Of course, I need to know how to change a tire myself.  I'd done it once before, but it took me a long while to complete the task.  And poor Steve stood there baking in the sun while I completed a Slo-Mo tire change.

I finally had the tire changed and we continued our ride.  We got less than 10 feet and Pssst.  Now Steve had a flat.  I offered to change it for him, but he declined.  It's a shame, I bet I could've change that second tire in under 20 minutes.

Test Ride of Buttockal Endurance

At the Beginner's Triathlon I learned that one of the local training facilities was hosting a Vineman CompuTrainer ride.  I didn't know what a CompuTrainer was, but thought I should probably give it a try.

The CompuTrainer allows you to ride the course on a spin trainer.  They've programmed the entire course - every hill and valley - into the trainer.   The computer factors in your weight (ouch!) and your riding style.  On the trainer is there's is absolutely no coasting.  You can't rest at all on the downhills; you've got to pedal the entire route.  The coach leading the session said the CompuTrainer is about 20% harder than a real ride because there's no rest.

You're probably thinking that this must be incredibly boring.  You are so right! It was a grind of riding - no scenery, no wind, nothing.  Just 6 people pedaling and staring at the computer screen.

In addition to the mind numbing there is butt numbing. The bike is locked in position and you never get to move on the seat.  I don't care how much chamois butter you slap on, 4 hours locked on the bike seat hurts.

I started the session with 6 other riders.  When we hooked up my bike, I realized there was a problem with the shifting.  It would not go into my big ring. Craptastic!  I decided to ride anyway; if my shifting didn't work on race day I'd tough it out in my small ring.

About an hour into the ride the computer crashed.  You're kidding me, right?  Nope, we had to  restart and reride the entire first hour.  One of the riders bailed right there.  I didn't really blame her.

I toughed it out - no big ring, restart, boredom and butt pain.  It'll be worth it if I finish Vineman.

Yep!

A little reminder from the folks at Geekfill.

Race Notes: Beginner's Triathlon

Last Saturday I did the beginner's triathlon hosted by the Tri Club of San Diego. I cannot say enough good things about the Tri Club - fun, professional and supportive of triathletes of all abilities. There are weekly club races, tons of workouts and great sponsor discounts. This race was actually a free race for members.  The club wants you to have a chance to learn and make mistakes.  Love, love, love the Tri Club.

Since I've been training a lot on my own, this was my first chance to put it all together in a race event.   It was a short course on familiar training grounds.

Pre-race:   This was my first swim in my new wetsuit. Wetsuits may not be allowed at Vineman. It depends on the water temperature. I didn't want to train in a wetsuit and then get slayed if wetsuits were ruled out. I managed to put on my wetsuit in public without too much struggle.  I'm a big fan of the plastic bag trick to get it on over the feet.  (I learned that from Chris McCormack, Ironman World Champion.  If it's good enough for Chris...)

Swim: I stepped into the mushy, low tide shore and sank 6 inches. I spent a few minutes convincing myself to not be grossed out by the oozing mush. My new mantra is, "It's chocolate pudding. They lined the ocean with chocolate pudding."

Then the gun went off and I started swimming and panicking. Big time race jittering panic. Jumpin' junebugs on pogo sticks! Why? I'm a strong swimmer in a buoyant friggin' wetsuit. One of the swim buddies (thanks Tri Clubber!) helped me calm myself.  Once I had myself calm, the swim was fine.

Here's what I learned on the swim.  I can to do a better job of sighting as I round the buoy..  Also, my shoulders did tire out from the wetsuit. I need to do more swimming in neoprene.

Transition 1: Doh! Timing chip got caught on the wetsuit. Time lost while I unraveled that snag.

Ride: Easy breezy on the pancake flat Silver Strand. No issues.

Transition 2: A smooth grab and go.  I'm off to the run.

Run: I got caught up in running with people and over did it on the pace. I need to set some alarms on my Garmin to tell me when I'm going too fast. Otherwise, I get over-eager and run myself out of gas.

Post race:  The Tri Club eats like Rock Stars.  The post race buffet was: pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, bread pudding, yogurt, granola, berries, bananas, oranges, coffee, juices...did I mention this was a free race?  Thanks Tri Club!  I took yogurt, granola and fruit, because it would have been really easy to over eat with all that food after a short race.

Overall, a successful, short race.  I can do this.

Sign Up Sunday

I had a great bike ride with my husband yesterday.  Great, other than one episode of whining as we climbed a really tough hill. (I was whining; he's a climbing superstar.)

When I got home I felt a bubble of confidence or something...I signed up for the San Diego Tri Club's beginner's "race" next Saturday.  And I signed up for California Ironman 70.3.

Crazy.

Reassess and Move Onward

Since I began this training plan, I've missed 4 workouts.  That's not bad for 7 weeks.  Well, except that 3 of those workouts were in the last week.

What happened?  Last week we were in Lake Tahoe on Sunday which is the day I normally map out my training sessions on my weekly calendar.  I traveled directly from Tahoe to work at my LA office on Monday and Tuesday.  That meant I never got around to scheduling  my training sessions until Wednesday.

Considering that I worked for Day-Timers and have read every time management book on the planet, I sure suck at managing my calendar.  My work requires that I spend a lot of time in meetings.  If I don't block out time then every morning, lunch and evening will be filled by an appointment.  If I want to have 2 consecutive hours available to train I need to protect that time.   Duh.  This isn't quantum mechanics.

Lesson learned.  Training happens when schedule it.  It doesn't miraculously fit into may day.  As much as I hate schedules, I need to plan.

What Happened?

Lake Tahoe decided to dump some really bad weather on America's Most Beautiful Bike ride.  When Steve opened the hotel room door at 5 AM on race morning, my first thought was "It smells like snow."  If you grew up somewhere snowy, you know that before it snows the air smells....snowy.  It's hard to explain, but it's a specific scent.  I was worried about Steve and cycle team  getting pelted by snow, sleet and ice as they rode 100 miles up and down mountains.

The team went out to ride and I went back to bed.  When I woke up, the weather was marginally better and much warmer. I decided to go for my planned 2 hour run.  I ran out past the finish line and spent the next two hours running up and down the last few miles of the course cheering for cyclists as they finished.  The riders were freezing, exhausted and filthy from road splash and they smiled to see someone cheering their efforts.  I was the only person cheering on that lonely stretch of  road - especially when the sky opened up and dumped freezing cold rain on me for 30 minutes.  The cyclists had appropriate rain/cold weather gear.  Not me, I was in tri-shorts and a sleeveless running dress. It was chilly, but I love cheering for people and decided to stay out to finish my run.  

After that run I felt confident.  I ran over 13 miles and I felt that my triathlon was going to be easy.  For some nonsensical reason, I've been really worried about the run portion of the race.  A solid, long distance run totally boosted my confidence.  Unfortunately, that confidence surge didn't last.  Since then I've had a bunch of lackluster workouts and my confidence is gone.  

Lake Tahoe Edition

I'm in Lake Tahoe with my husband's cycling team.  He's coaching for Team in Training this season. Tomorrow is a huge day for TNT - 1500 cyclists will ride one hundred miles around Lake Tahoe and thousand of runners and walkers will do the San Diego Rock N Roll marathon.   Every year those cyclists and marathoners raise millions to cure blood cancers.  I'm incredibly proud of our TNT participants, mentors and coaches.

Of course, tomorrow morning I'm going to be terribly jealous since this is not my event.  Event day is so special. Tomorrow I'm gear girl, cheerleader and finish line welcome committee.  But I'm not a participant. Sigh.

My own triathlon training is coming along well.  I feel strong and I running much better and faster than I have in the past.  When we got to Tahoe yesterday, I ran fast for over an hour - at 6200 feet over sea level.  That would have been impossible before I started this training.

Tomorrow, I've got a two hour run and then I'm support crew for the cyclists.  Soon enough, it'll be my event day.

Recovery Week - Oh How I Loved Thee!

Last week was recovery week and I needed it.  I was still working out, but an hour a day, sometimes less.  Good times.

My body is still needing gobs of sleep.  I think that's partly getting older and partly just diggin' my mattress time.  I feel so bad for Steve, because he gets much less sleep than I do.  I'm absolutely the queen of mean when I don't get enough rest.  Workout?  Not unless you count throwing a fit.

With 8 weeks to go, this whole half Ironman thing is starting to seem like a realistic goal.  I could actually do this race within the allowed time frame.  I'm trucking along on the training plan, picking off each workout.  And every workout - even the tough ones - is a confidence builder.  

Me, a Iron Distance Triathlete.  Imagine that.

Bike Week Completed

Put another long training week into the books.  This was bike week.

For several weeks I've been telling Steve there was something wrong with my handle bars since I've had consistent pain in the muscle under my right shoulder blade.  I couldn't figure it out - bars too low, bars uneven?  Steve thought it was probably my posture on the bike.

Steve and I went out for a ride yesterday to check my bike fit.  As we were getting our bikes ready to ride I really looked a handle bars.  My left brake lever/hood was very slightly rotated inward.  Stevie muscled it to the right spot.  Voilà!  No more back pain.  After watching me ride, he also raised my bike seat.  That helped a lot and I'm getting a lot more power on the climbs.

This is recovery week.  Oh, yeah.  I've got a long run on Saturday, but that's my only "all out" workout this week.  I'm very, very excited to have a nice, light training load.