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.