Well, the first yoga class was great. Afterwards, it felt like I had just had a back massage, because finally the pain and tension was eased. Now if I could just fix the bike problem…
Swam yesterday, first time in a month. It felt good to get in the water, but I realized how little I’ve actually progressed in the past year… I’ve practically forgotten backstroke and breaststroke, and my kicking actually sends me backwards. I can barely kick for half of the 25m length. It’s time to re-think my strategy.
It’s also time to re-think my path in life. There’s a Buddhist saying that warns: “If we continue along this path, we’re liable to end up where we’re headed.” – or something to that effect. I’m not headed into a good place, that’s for sure. I already have some plans, but I won’t jinx them by stating them here.
For now, I’m not sure if, when or how often I will be updating this blog… there are some things I need to get in order first. So, dear readers, thanks for your attention thus far, and I wish you all the best of luck. When I know more... I will be back!
Friday, September 14, 2007
Friday, September 7, 2007
Dinner with Damon
The heat is stifling… yesterday’s 18k easy run turned into a hack-fest partway through. Whether it was the extreme humidity, the poor air quality, or the bug I swallowed as I ran through Mooney’s Bay Park, I don’t know—but I hacked myself silly on the way home. Maybe the bug stung my throat on the way down?
I consoled myself by watching the Bourne Identity afterwards (nothing like a bit of shirtless Matt Damon to cheer a girl up!). Dinner was the standard tuna curry with veggies. I am Day 2 into my “Drink 75 oz of water a day” plan. That’s about 5 bottles a day, but does not include what I need to consume during workouts. I’m also trying to drink one cup of green tea daily. We’ll see how I feel after a few weeks of this… I am attempting to smooth out my wrinkles. Actually, that’s not the main reason, but it is one of the reasons.
Also found a great website for sports nutrition and other related topics (Australian Institute of Sport). I was kind of surprised to see all the recipes for lamb (!!) but hey, it's Aussie.
I consoled myself by watching the Bourne Identity afterwards (nothing like a bit of shirtless Matt Damon to cheer a girl up!). Dinner was the standard tuna curry with veggies. I am Day 2 into my “Drink 75 oz of water a day” plan. That’s about 5 bottles a day, but does not include what I need to consume during workouts. I’m also trying to drink one cup of green tea daily. We’ll see how I feel after a few weeks of this… I am attempting to smooth out my wrinkles. Actually, that’s not the main reason, but it is one of the reasons.
Also found a great website for sports nutrition and other related topics (Australian Institute of Sport). I was kind of surprised to see all the recipes for lamb (!!) but hey, it's Aussie.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Just Du It
The 2007 Canadian Half Iron Distance Duathlon has come and gone… and here I am to tell the tale. The event went much better than I expected; heck, I didn’t even expect to finish. My overall time was 11 minutes faster than last year, which is a respectable showing for me considering my injured state!
A huge spaghetti dinner on Friday night set the stage for Saturday morning; garlic bread, loads of pasta and meat sauce, a tasty beer and I was carbo-loaded indeed. But that wasn’t all: a decadent piece of chocolate cake and tea at Oh So Good… was oh so good. I slept pretty well that night: whether it was the food or whether it was my dread of the whole thing, I have no idea. My alarm rang at 6:30, and it was off to the races we go.
I packed in a frenzy (despite the race-day checklist I had made) and spent almost 45 minutes trying to decide if it would be cold enough to wear a long-sleeved jersey (16-21C and sunny… it wasn’t!). I couldn’t eat more than half of my pre-race breakfast (oatmeal pancakes with blueberries and Nutella) because of the butterflies in my stomach. Finally I had pulled on my leg and arm-warmers and was ready for the 10k warm-up ride to the race. It was a beautiful, cool and clear morning.
I enjoyed the ride to Mooney’s Bay, even more so because I had scrapped my aerobars for this race and opted for a traditional roadie position to help my back. The transition area was crazy; the venue had moved just south-east of the main field and was now situated in the infield of the track! The announcer was prattling like announcers do, and music was playing from the loudspeakers… I felt the first burst of adrenaline.
Racked my bike near the end of Row 4, set myself up and retraced my steps so I’d know where to find my bike. Then I went over to the Body Marking table and stood there for a bit (no volunteers to help this time!) until I saw man who looked stranded in similar fashion. I said, “shall we do this?” So I wrote this number on his arm, but it was a 900-number and I made the stick on the ‘9’ too long, so that his number stretched to the inside of his elbow. “Oops, sorry I ran out of space” said I. “What, you’re telling me my bicep isn’t big enough?” He joked. Yeah, yeah, no more party jokes for the calves!
At the start line, I looked around at my fellow racers and felt a bit awkward, like I usually do when standing next to the uber-serious guys and SLC’s (Super-Lean-Chicks, remember?) It was a relief to start, actually. I took the first 2k easy, forcing myself to slow down and breathe only through my nose. It was hard, because when the gun goes off you just want to sprint and get rid of all that adrenaline.
I re-entered the transition zone and grabbed my bike, gloves, and helmet, and shoved the Nutella sandwich into my pocket. It was a long run on the grass to the road. I had no idea how the bike leg was going to go… I was going to aim for about 30kph and hope for the best. It was somewhat windy along Colonel By and I worried that my road position would put me at a big disadvantage, but of course I had no choice. Up on the tops I went, spinning like mad, to show all those triathletes on $5000 Cervelos how to ride a bike.
Immediately I felt the difference; my back was happier, my legs were happier, my lungs were happier, and my brain was happier. Most of the following 90 kilometres were enjoyable, even! I smirked whenever I passed a SLC deep in the aero position, on a fancy tri bike. I smirked, and I passed them sitting up, hands on the tops. I even passed them riding no-hands. One of the women who did go by me yelled out as she passed: “Time to invest in some aero-bars!” I felt like laughing, or perhaps screaming, so I said back: “I just took ‘em off!” Then I decided that I wanted to beat that silly woman to the line, sitting up of course. I was having a blast until my seat-bag came loose and began to flop over my back wheel.
I briefly considered jettisoning it… but my health and credit cards were in there, so I pulled over, lifted my bike off the road and stood there, off the course, to re-fasten the straps. You can’t imagine how frustrated I was, having a great ride so far, and then this, yet another unfortunate event!! When I got back on the bike I had lost my cool and my pacing … I was furious. I practically sprinted the next half-lap, trying to regain my position. Another 15 minutes later and I had caught most of the cyclists I had passed before, but had over-drawn my legs. I zipped in 3 bike-lengths (it was a non-draft legal race) behind a dude going steady at 30kph, and stayed there to save my life. He was older and looked experienced, so I hung on. I hung on for the remainder of the ride, perhaps to his chagrin! He put some space between us on the headwind sections, and I caught up with the tailwind. At the dismount line, I was right behind him.
Running off the bike is always awful, and this time was no exception. My feet were numb from the ride so it wasn’t just the quads that were bricks. I had to stomp them several times to get some blood in there, making my T2 slower than it should have been. I also began the run with one glove still on, started to go back, then realized that was dumb and shoved it into my pocket. I saw people lying on the grass, eating, stretching, chatting, and relaxing and I thought “guys, you’re doing a RACE right now, time’s a-wastin’!”
I promised myself that in 10 minutes I’d get my running legs. And I did. Actually, I ran the second 10k loop at least as well as the first one. I was dimly aware, through the blinding sunlight and total-body pain, that all the marathon training miles were finally paying off. I kept chugging along, planning whether I’d take Gatorade or water at the next aid station, and trying to figure out which station offered Coke (never did, but I heard volunteers call it out!). At about 16k, I accepted a volunteer’s proffered banana, and I’ve never tasted such a cool and delicious treat in my life.
When I turned into the stadium for the finishing stretch along the track, I was certainly ready for that finish line. My wonderful friends were sitting in the bleachers, and put on quite the show of cheers as I staggered down toward the line. My parents also made it to watch at several of the race’s twists and turns. It’s funny really, how you can just forget your pain and fatigue if there’s someone there watching and cheering! And the other spectators were amazing too, calling out names from the bib numbers and clapping, clapping, clapping for hours. They made all the difference. I had no energy or breath to say anything intelligent back, but could usually manage a whispered “Thanks” or smile. Spectators, you mean the world to us crazies!
When it was over, I found out that I had improved my run time by 13 minutes over last year, lost a bit on the bike (which I later found out was slightly longer than 90k this time), and cut my transition times in half, to make the total improvement of 11 minutes. Not only that, but I could walk afterwards! In fact, I went for an easy 60k meandering ride around Gatineau yesterday. Altogether, while I will never be a competitive athlete, the event was a success... that doesn’t mean, however, that my focus won’t change for next year!
Thanks to all.
A huge spaghetti dinner on Friday night set the stage for Saturday morning; garlic bread, loads of pasta and meat sauce, a tasty beer and I was carbo-loaded indeed. But that wasn’t all: a decadent piece of chocolate cake and tea at Oh So Good… was oh so good. I slept pretty well that night: whether it was the food or whether it was my dread of the whole thing, I have no idea. My alarm rang at 6:30, and it was off to the races we go.
I packed in a frenzy (despite the race-day checklist I had made) and spent almost 45 minutes trying to decide if it would be cold enough to wear a long-sleeved jersey (16-21C and sunny… it wasn’t!). I couldn’t eat more than half of my pre-race breakfast (oatmeal pancakes with blueberries and Nutella) because of the butterflies in my stomach. Finally I had pulled on my leg and arm-warmers and was ready for the 10k warm-up ride to the race. It was a beautiful, cool and clear morning.
I enjoyed the ride to Mooney’s Bay, even more so because I had scrapped my aerobars for this race and opted for a traditional roadie position to help my back. The transition area was crazy; the venue had moved just south-east of the main field and was now situated in the infield of the track! The announcer was prattling like announcers do, and music was playing from the loudspeakers… I felt the first burst of adrenaline.
Racked my bike near the end of Row 4, set myself up and retraced my steps so I’d know where to find my bike. Then I went over to the Body Marking table and stood there for a bit (no volunteers to help this time!) until I saw man who looked stranded in similar fashion. I said, “shall we do this?” So I wrote this number on his arm, but it was a 900-number and I made the stick on the ‘9’ too long, so that his number stretched to the inside of his elbow. “Oops, sorry I ran out of space” said I. “What, you’re telling me my bicep isn’t big enough?” He joked. Yeah, yeah, no more party jokes for the calves!
At the start line, I looked around at my fellow racers and felt a bit awkward, like I usually do when standing next to the uber-serious guys and SLC’s (Super-Lean-Chicks, remember?) It was a relief to start, actually. I took the first 2k easy, forcing myself to slow down and breathe only through my nose. It was hard, because when the gun goes off you just want to sprint and get rid of all that adrenaline.
I re-entered the transition zone and grabbed my bike, gloves, and helmet, and shoved the Nutella sandwich into my pocket. It was a long run on the grass to the road. I had no idea how the bike leg was going to go… I was going to aim for about 30kph and hope for the best. It was somewhat windy along Colonel By and I worried that my road position would put me at a big disadvantage, but of course I had no choice. Up on the tops I went, spinning like mad, to show all those triathletes on $5000 Cervelos how to ride a bike.
Immediately I felt the difference; my back was happier, my legs were happier, my lungs were happier, and my brain was happier. Most of the following 90 kilometres were enjoyable, even! I smirked whenever I passed a SLC deep in the aero position, on a fancy tri bike. I smirked, and I passed them sitting up, hands on the tops. I even passed them riding no-hands. One of the women who did go by me yelled out as she passed: “Time to invest in some aero-bars!” I felt like laughing, or perhaps screaming, so I said back: “I just took ‘em off!” Then I decided that I wanted to beat that silly woman to the line, sitting up of course. I was having a blast until my seat-bag came loose and began to flop over my back wheel.
I briefly considered jettisoning it… but my health and credit cards were in there, so I pulled over, lifted my bike off the road and stood there, off the course, to re-fasten the straps. You can’t imagine how frustrated I was, having a great ride so far, and then this, yet another unfortunate event!! When I got back on the bike I had lost my cool and my pacing … I was furious. I practically sprinted the next half-lap, trying to regain my position. Another 15 minutes later and I had caught most of the cyclists I had passed before, but had over-drawn my legs. I zipped in 3 bike-lengths (it was a non-draft legal race) behind a dude going steady at 30kph, and stayed there to save my life. He was older and looked experienced, so I hung on. I hung on for the remainder of the ride, perhaps to his chagrin! He put some space between us on the headwind sections, and I caught up with the tailwind. At the dismount line, I was right behind him.
Running off the bike is always awful, and this time was no exception. My feet were numb from the ride so it wasn’t just the quads that were bricks. I had to stomp them several times to get some blood in there, making my T2 slower than it should have been. I also began the run with one glove still on, started to go back, then realized that was dumb and shoved it into my pocket. I saw people lying on the grass, eating, stretching, chatting, and relaxing and I thought “guys, you’re doing a RACE right now, time’s a-wastin’!”
I promised myself that in 10 minutes I’d get my running legs. And I did. Actually, I ran the second 10k loop at least as well as the first one. I was dimly aware, through the blinding sunlight and total-body pain, that all the marathon training miles were finally paying off. I kept chugging along, planning whether I’d take Gatorade or water at the next aid station, and trying to figure out which station offered Coke (never did, but I heard volunteers call it out!). At about 16k, I accepted a volunteer’s proffered banana, and I’ve never tasted such a cool and delicious treat in my life.
When I turned into the stadium for the finishing stretch along the track, I was certainly ready for that finish line. My wonderful friends were sitting in the bleachers, and put on quite the show of cheers as I staggered down toward the line. My parents also made it to watch at several of the race’s twists and turns. It’s funny really, how you can just forget your pain and fatigue if there’s someone there watching and cheering! And the other spectators were amazing too, calling out names from the bib numbers and clapping, clapping, clapping for hours. They made all the difference. I had no energy or breath to say anything intelligent back, but could usually manage a whispered “Thanks” or smile. Spectators, you mean the world to us crazies!
When it was over, I found out that I had improved my run time by 13 minutes over last year, lost a bit on the bike (which I later found out was slightly longer than 90k this time), and cut my transition times in half, to make the total improvement of 11 minutes. Not only that, but I could walk afterwards! In fact, I went for an easy 60k meandering ride around Gatineau yesterday. Altogether, while I will never be a competitive athlete, the event was a success... that doesn’t mean, however, that my focus won’t change for next year!
Thanks to all.
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