One Minute

I seem to be spending a lot of time digging up my history lately, and it's been interesting. This seems to be mainly because I'm doing a lot of the same races I've done previous years. On the one hand, re-playing history a good way to see if there is progress. Also, for nice courses, it's a nice way to enjoy territory I know I'll enjoy since I've already covered it.

On the not-so-plus side, if I do really well in a race one year, it can be a total ass-bite if I don't do as well when I go back.

Especially if I am PMSing. Or worrying about the crazy thing I signed up for in May of 2010: Ironman Utah. Did I mention I'm signed up for Ironman Utah? Have you seen the course profile for that thing?

Ahem. I get ahead of myself. I do that sometimes...I project a little. I get excited. Ask my coach - he'll tell you that I will sometimes call him and ask about signing up for races two years from now - can we build up to that coach? Can we plan for that? Can we?

So.

I bailed on Big Sur so that I could be ready for May's lineup of craziness, which includes:
Run for the Zoo
Jay Benson (sprint Tri on Mother's Day),
Jemez Mountain Trail Run Half Mary, followed immediately (the next day) by
Santa Fe Century - and, the following week -
Iron Horse Bicycle Classic.

Yee haw!

Run for the Zoo was a nice warmup, and as I said before, I was a whole minute slower than last year. History of results:

2007 time: 55:58
2008 time: 56:10
2009 time: 57:37

I wasn't trying, I was still recovering from Bronchitis, had the foot off the gas. I thought this was a pretty good sign.

Jay Benson weekend I was supposed to race with my mother, but she crashed her bike a couple weeks ago and was still recovering. That's right, my mother is a total badass. She wrecked her bike. She skidded down a major road like a hockey puck and bloodied all her pointy parts in the process. She's covered in owies and booboos, and she's still training - undeterred - but it was the pain in her ribs that convinced her that racing on mother's day wasn't in the cards. Poor mom. I consoled her by reminding her of various motorcycles she wrecked I was a kid, and I knew that this little bike mishap for her (even at 61) was no big deal -- relatively speaking.

I went to Jay Benson anyway - nervous as hell. This race always makes me nervous, and I think it's because it was my first triathlon ever. I still get residual jitters when I do this because I had so much invested in my first time. This race is a reverse sprint, and I know it well, since I've done it 3 times. Here is the history download:

First year's splits:

Total   Run     Pace   T1      Bike    Mph   T2      Swim
 1:21:52   25:11  8:24    1:38   41:14  18.1    2:03   11:48       

Second year's splits - woo progress!

Total   Run     Pace   T1      Bike    Mph   T2      Swim    
1:18:35   26:37  8:53    1:35   38:16  19.5    1:59   10:10

Last year's splits - WOO!!

Total   Run     Pace   T1      Bike    Mph   T2      Swim 
1:15:53.35   26:00  8:40  1:41  36:27  20.5    2:02    9:46 

Given my history with this race and my level of training over the winter, I was planning to see more progress this year. I saw some progress, but not what I hoped:

Total       Run     Pace   T1      Bike    Mph   T2      Swim
1:16:46.95   26:23  8:48    1:46   36:26  20.5    2:03   10:11  

Oof.

I consoled myself with the following facts:
1) I did move up a couple places in my new age group, in spite of losing about a minute. I finished 7th in my AG in a race where some really serious women show up to race, and that's pretty cool.

2) I maintained my stupendous bike split from last year, with what felt like slightly less effort. Having said that, I do recall rolling into transition, coming off the bike and momentarily losing use of my legs, but no matter...

3) There is no polite way to put it: the swim was a complete clusterfuck. In my anaerobic state, I got into the pool and immediately swam into someone who was breast stroking. Do you know how hard it is to get past a breast stroker who is frog kicking in the WHOLE LANE when you're anaerobic? It's hard. I also had to manoever around groups of hangers-on at the ends of lanes. So I'm pretty sure I know where my lost swim time went.

It's one race, it's no big deal. Bygones.

My next race weekend would be a serious test, and I knew it was coming. I remember last year's Jemez/SFC combo being a real killer, so I was mentally ready for this. You know if you do a thing once, you can do it again and that's it- you've beat it. Most of the battle is won if you want to do it again.

Jemez Mountain Trail run half mary is freakishly difficult. I can not sugar coat or overstate this one - it's crazy hard. They call it a 20K, they call it a half mary, it's neither. I'm not entirely sure it's the 13.6 miles that Garmin says it is. If the Napa Valley Trail Half Marathon shows up on Garmin as a little over 10 miles, what sort of error do you suppose it would give me for another half mary on equally bizarre terrain? For argument's sake, we'll say it's 13.6 miles - it's over 1700 feet of climbing in the first half, followed by giving all the elevation back in the second half. The profile is here.

I remember last year's race being really bruising - I remember finishing and feeling so totally wasted that I just wanted to sit down for the rest of the week. My feet felt bruised and battered, my legs were toast.

My spouse, my crazy friends Flamin' Mo, Amy, Ken and Maria and Jean and a few other insane friends were signed up for the 50K race at Jemez, and a number of fellow outlaws were signed up for the half mary. I was really tempted to do the same 50K/SFC combo, but none of my crazy friends who were doing that combo were also signed up for Iron Horse the following weekend. My insanity would have to be measured.

Because last year's time was so long for a half-mary, I really believed that this year I would be hacking a large chunk off the time. I mean, seriously - why would running 13.6 miles take over 3 hours? I've done a 50K, I can do this.

I ran comfortably the whole race. I felt great, I pushed as hard as I felt I could without blowing up, and hiked the major incline sections. I found myself at the crest of Guaje ridge at 1 hr 30 minutes, grabbed a couple of gummy worms, and started the downhill trot. I'm sure mom would advise against eating worms while running, but these are gummy worms and I neeeed them.

I got this, I thought. I am making good time. I feel good. It seemed to take forever, again. The back half of the course never seemed to get shorter - and it was still crazy difficult on the back half. I found my running legs totally uncooperative, my energy was drained.

And then I was done.

Last year's time: 3:18:05
This year's time: 3:19:38

What. The Hell?!

This time, I had no consolation. I felt a little less beat up than had the last time I did it, and for what? A minute of loss. Over a minute! I sat down and I couldn't help it - I cried. I really really wanted to go sub-3, and there was just no way. It wasn't there. If anything, I had just proved to myself that this race had beat me. How can I train my ass off for a year, do an Ironman, do a 50K, and not see improvement in my speed for a stupid half marathon? Where's the progress? How frustrating!

Spouse didn't fare much better - though he managed not to get lost this year, and finished alive and in one piece.

We went home and I got ready for the Santa Fe Century, which I confess I was not entirely looking forward to. Last year, SFC was my first Century ever, and I have a keen memory of feeling pretty completely shelled during the last 10 miles. I remember everything hurt, and I remember it was just...hard. But I did it and my sense of accomplishment sort of negated all the pain memory for a long time.

Until last Sunday. Once you do a thing, you know you can do it again.

I had set myself up to ride in a group with my other crazy friends who had done the Jemez trail run, and told all my friends who had done the 50K that I would happily ride with them, since I knew that all of us would probably feel a little on the not-so-speedy side. It wasn't long until I was riding with 3 others who had done the 50K and one fresh non-runner. Our little group wasn't fast, but I could tell pretty quickly that this year's ride was entirely different from last year's ride. Not only was I not hurting, I was actually feeling pretty good. For running a very bruising trail race the previous day, I was actually doing well: I wasn't praying for death, nothing was sore, and I still had enough climbing power to make it up Heartbreak Hill feeling relatively strong, and without stopping or walking.

Oh. I guess that's where my progress is.

That's pretty big.

Last year's rolling time: 6hrs 40 something
This year's rolling time: 6 hrs 30 something

Start and end times, and rest times, were roughly the same. In this case, the time is only partly relevant. I was taking care of a group and riding at their pace, but I felt better. Way better.

Hm. Maybe my little Jemez breakdown was PMS related...

It could be that as I've gone longer over the past year, I've gotten slower. If that's the case, I'm OK with trading a little speed for a lot of distance. I would love it if I could go longer and get faster, but I think I have to keep training for longer to see that kind of progress.

On the other hand, they tell me the trick to getting faster is to just go faster. That makes a certain amount of sense - I train at a certain speed, my muscle memory works great at that speed, and when I'm going long, I have to slow down. I hope that my speed may pick up as I feel better going longer. And I'm definitely feeling better.

I guess I am making progress after all.

Next up: Iron Horse...that deserves its own post.

maybe if you hum a few bars...

I ran the Turkey Trek with a cold. In the rain.

I could feel the cold coming on the day before, but I have maintained a steady denial about it, on purpose. So far my denial has taken me through the Turkey Trek, on a 2hr ride yesterday, and out for a 1hr run this morning. In retrospect it doesn't sound too bright, but at the time, it all made perfect sense.

I feel like I have to explain my stupidity, for my own edification.

It's been several months since I was last ill. That's a good thing. That I am less ill these days is truly a happy thing. I have two first graders now in public school. It seems like I spent an entire season last year with my head under a pillow of stuffiness. That I can even say I've been illness free for several months seems like a miracle.

Out here 3 days after the race, I'm going to say it's not hubris. it's not arrogance. It is partly ignorance, partly fear, and partly stubbornness.

Why not hubris or arrogance? I suppose that since I have an ego (however small it may be), it is possible for my own need to succeed to supercede any rational thought. Am I arrogant enough to think that I am bulletproof? Or that I'm better than everyone else who is there? Uh, I'm not arrogant enough to think that I might even place in a local 5K on thanksgiving, so no, not so much. We have some fast people show up for these things, it's highly unlikely for them all to be somewhere else (in fact, the winner had a 15 minute time. 15 minutes. Wow). I really really wanted to do it, no doubt about it. My arrogance takes me as far as mid-pack these days, not much beyond that.

We have established that I am not immune to my own ego, but that it is not running the show. Let's talk about stupid.

Oh yes, let's talk about stupid. Should be an easy judgment - even I am willing to believe that one. Stupid implies that I ignore sensible advice, or that I know better. Or it could imply that I am not fully informed. I'm going with that. Since I'm not sick all the time, quite frankly, I forget what it's like to be sick. I forget what happens, what it feels like. How does this sick thing go again? Plus there's the whole delayed reaction thing with me. It usually takes awhile before anything works on me, it's not like I have felt immediately crappy at any point in this journey. That delayed muscle soreness thing? Exactly 24 hours for me -- extremely predictable. Most other things? Not so much.

I did get up on Thursday feeling iffy. Aha! For some this would surely be a sign, but I have also gotten up plenty of mornings feeling a bit iffy - I think it's a perfectly normal feeling at 5am, and that's why maintaining a certain amount of denial is so important. If I listened to myself every time I felt a little low on energy, you'd see me eating a whole lot more snickers bars.

Then there's the whole energy scale thing. See, I have this theory about the training - it keeps me feeling mostly great superficially. It's not until I start digging in that I get a sense for how thick the "good"veneer is. This from someone who used to have a habit of not eating, and wake up dizzy every day, or go through a half a pack of cigarettes a day. I think my sense of perspective is decidedly skewed. A superficial feeling of "good" is pretty awesome, but I still have no idea of the scale. How deep does it go?

Also, it's not like I rolled out of bed with a fever on Thursday, or felt dizzy, or exceptionally horrible. That sort of experience would be more obvious, and I would not ignore that. No, I could tell I was losing my voice, but I didn't feel low on energy, drained, or sore anywhere. Just kinda snotty.

It could be that I have built up a certain insensitivity to feeling crappy...

Fear? Pretty obvious that since I'm training for an Ultra I'm a little afraid to lose some fitness if I don't maintain a consistent training program. Sure, fear plays a role. I was more OK with the fear of potentially getting sicker than I was of missing the experience or running a 5K.

The stubborn part is obvious. There is a lot of training that gets accomplished by pure stubbornness, so it's hard to differentiate when stubbornness alone is running the show. Truly, any time the weather turns a little bit iffy, my internal dialogue begins.

self: I don't like running in the wind.
Self: yeah, it's not the funnest, just get it done.
self: I could just run on the treadmill, that would be OK.
Self: you could, but it would be really boring and would seem like it would take forever. Don't be a puss.
self: I don't like running in the wind.
Self: ...but if you just dress up right, you'll be done before you know it. Go do it. It'll be an adventure!

you could insert rain, snow, cold or pretty much any weather condition other than moderate temperature in place of wind and I might go through the same dialogue, complete with inner whimpering.

Most of the time, Self wins. I do it anyway, because Self is just more stubborn than self. Self is my inner grown-up, my inner Jure Robic. self is my inner two year old, my inner petulance. They're both very stubborn people, but grown-up me wins more often than 2-year-old me, as it should.

Back to my point. With a little bit of internal dialogue for pretty much anything that involves an additional challenge, the other factors that might be going on (illness, broken parts, whatever) get lost in the noise. The "noise" seems to consist of the unknown (I can't remember what happens if I'm starting to get sick and I run in the rain), the familar knowledge that feeling like crap will pass (just like every Masters morning), and a little bit of fear (I need to keep training if I'm gonna do that big run). With all that going on, suddenly it doesn't seem so unreasonable for me to be running a moderately-paced 5K at the Turkey Trek. In the rain. Without my voice.

Meh. Who needs a voice.

I did decide not to swim Friday morning - because already feeling iffy plus the 5 am iffy seemed like a poor decision.

The Saturday ride was based on rationalization: I took a day off training, so I'll be better now. Right? Well, I was...

The Sunday run was part rationalization and part momentum. I'll just do a short run, I had a good ride yesterday, I'm taking it easy. Except that it was clear that the snot was impairing my ability to breathe and take in oxygen, so the run was harder than it should have been. Plus breathing the cold started to feel weird.

It did not help to be outside for a few hours on Saturday, in the cold, watching a parade.

And now I have a cough. Bleah. I don't know if it was inevitable, I don't know if I did it to myself. I don't know if I'm better or worse because of what I've done. Frankly, I hate not knowing, and so I am throwing a big tantrum.

I'll take tomorrow off. I don't know when it'll be OK to get back into it, it's hard to figure out. It's not like I'm equipped with a sign like the one on the FedEx box that says the driver "has/hasn't" picked up by 5:00, though I think I need a sign, something that says "sick/healthy". Wouldn't it be nice if we came with a sick/healthy version of one of those "clean/dirty" dishwasher magnets? Or a "sick" light? Something. Anything. I don't know about you, but I seem to need one.

In the meantime, I think I'll skip Masters and sleep in a few days.

where the hell have you been?

I am sick.

I'm the sickest I've been all year. I am easily the sickest I've been all Winter, and possibly the sickest I've been in about a year's time. I am someone who has access to pretty much everything there is to catch, since I have two five year olds in public school who loooove to bring things home. Most of the time, I'm pretty lucky. I take good care of myself, I wash my hands a lot, I drink a lot of EmergenC. My normal illness level is usually pretty mild relative to that of the kidlets.

I don't know what happened this time. Everyone around me has been laid low with the Asian Bird Flu or something, but I've been lucky. Until now.

I started last Friday with the chills and the sweats, and worked up to hallucinating and sleeping all weekend. I had fever, aching joints, sore everything, you name it. It was pretty clear I was very ill, I was officially toxic.

The kids had tested positive for strep the week before so I thought OK, this is my sign - I'll just go and get a strep test and get a shot, and life will be OK.

I bet you've never known someone to be depressed to test negative for strep. Sh*t. That means it's a virus. Which means there is no hope for me except rest, rest and more rest. sh*t. Stupid H5N1.

The flu is an illness with no conceivable end in sight. No drugs will kill it, they only dehydrate me and dull the pain.

I was optimistic. Everyone cleared out of the house while I laid low, spent my weekend in bed, watched a lot of movies. You know, Knocked Up is not a bad film, but I wasn't so impressed with The Queen. Frida was pretty. Unencumbered by my training schedule, my beloved took advantage of my disabled state and did his last long run before Pirate's Cove. He wants to do the 50K - he ran 30-something miles in pieces while I lay dying.

Monday I was still Feverish.

Tuesday the coughing was semi-productive, the headache and bodyache leveled me for the day. I got on the trainer for 1/2 an hour in the evening just to see how it would feel (Not Good). The Bridge, by the way, was an excellent film, but not for everyone. And it was very intense.

I felt a touch better by Wednesday, though the phlegm was starting to move its way into my chest and acquire a chewy texture. My state of illness had graduated from toxic to pathetic. I attempted to swim. My arms, filled with glycogen from my unscheduled rest, felt awesome. By 600 yards, however, I was so overcome by nausea that I was flat for the rest of the evening. I think it was some combination of water in my ears and snot in my head that did me in.

Geekgirl brought me a pink pirate swim cap which is so unbelievably cool that up to that point, all feelings of illness had been negated. I'd have swum another 2000 in that cap, had it not been for the nausea. I was so overwhelmed I nearly fell over in the pool IS THAT FOR ME??? OH MY GAAAWD!!! How does she know these things?

Thursday I didn't fight it. I came home and went horizontal. I slept for at least 9 hours. I didn't care for the Fountain. Very weird.

It's Friday, Pi Day, and my appetite came back long enough for me to celebrate by eating chicken pie and cherry pie. I'm not taking any chances, I've laid low all day. Today I feel slightly perkier - the snot is thinner, my energy is coming back. I'm watching network TV. My condition has graduated to merely sub-pathetic.

I'm more than a touch worried that I won't be able to do the 20K that I wanted to at next weekend's run at Pirate's Cove. I suppose since their motto is "Runs that aren't Races in Beautiful Places" that it will make it very easy to treat it as a training run. Still, haven't done anything in a week, haven't done 12 miles in a couple weeks. Wasn't ready to taper like this. We'll see.

It's weird to have so little energy and have my legs feel so good. I've saved them up - so now I have to be careful not to overdo it.

sigh.

Which is why I'll go to bed now.

Thanks, geekgirl!

does it always have to be like this?

I keep forgetting - is this what Mr. Taper is supposed to be like? There's a little over a week left to SoMa and I am...a little freaked out.

Yes, I think that would accurately describe my state of mind.

I'm sure it will get worse before it gets better.

Let me clarify - I think I have good reasons to be freaked out.

Trust me - these are good reasons...

1) The Leg that Won't Play Ball Waay back about 3 weeks ago (gosh, has it been that long?) I had a total leg failure during the Colorado Relay. I self-diagnosed ITBS - it hurt in the right places and felt better when I wore a counterforce (Patt) strap. This failure was, by my book, totally unprovoked - I had no increase in training volume or intensity leading up to it. The only thing I had to point fingers at was the shoes.

The shoes, it turns out, were a complete error on my part. I totally bought the wrong shoes! I need control shoes, not neutral - they were neutral. Oops!

The good folks at my local shop took the shoes back.

Yes. You heard me.

Took.
Them.
Back.

Even after I said I'd put at least 30 miles in them. Even after I said to them (out loud) "I screwed up, I bought the wrong shoes."

(Of course they were so nice, I HAD to buy a new top, since I didn't have to pay for a new pair of shoes. If you saw the top you'd understand.)

So I've been good to my leg - massaging it regularly with precious oils and a big foam roller, reducing volume, clothing it with jewels and a patt strap and new shoes. Gently giving it some new exercises to contemplate - some butt blasters, some hamstring bridges.

For a while, the knee seems to be getting better, while the hip started to absolutely ache. The hip thing is weird, and most definitely related to the knee (well, they are connected, after all). The hip thing has been on and off over a long time, but it's never stopped me completely. And the weird part? The hip feels fine running - but hates sitting.

Last week I resorted to Voodoo. I turned my leg into a pincushion, I got acupuncture - with electricity. The acupuncture seemed to work so well I went back for more.

Then it stopped working.

So yesterday we resorted to hardcore voodoo - this involved the injection of homeopathic solutions into the trigger points in my hip (gluteus maximum, gluteus minimus, piriformis). So far so good - the injection points are a little sore, but they don't hurt like they did before, and this is lasting longer than just pincushion-and car-battery, so I'm going with it.

I don't know how long it will last, or if it will last through a half-iron. I go back for more tomorrow.

Prolotherapy has also been brought up. I'm not turning anything down.

2) Lack of volume due to #1. I've done some good rides on the bike, but my last long run was 9 miles up the Pino Trail, before the Colorado Relay. Since then the most I've done was 7. Last time I did the arithmetic (about 5 seconds ago) 7 miles isn't quite the same as 13.1.

The biggest brick I've done for this race was the 62 mile wind ride + 7 mi bike 2 weeks ago. That's not the same as 56 mile bike + 13.1 mi run.

Training for every other race, I've worked like a dog up to the last minute - but not this one. I've been training steady all summer, but it's been reduced since #1.

I don't know what to do with myself with "reduced" training. I go around cursing and swearing.

I'm really pretty unbearable with reduced volume and pissy leg.

3) My kids are sick. Every parent knows that when your kids are sick that means it's usually only a matter of time before it's you in the bed with the heavy drugs.

I can tell I'm getting it - I have the tickly throat, and I feel like partly digested dog crap.

On the plus side, that means I have a faint chance of getting over it before next weekend. On the down side, my already reduced volume may slow to nothing for me to properly recover.

As if I wasn't moody already.

4) My beloved has gone to New York City for the weekend, leaving me as a single mom to cope with two small sicklings, and my moody, undertrained, unwell, tapering self.

He's a smart guy.

***
Warning: if TMI is not your thing, you should probably stop reading now.
***


5) Of course I will get my period for this race. Of course I will. It seems to happen for EVERY. RACE.

And you know what? When I'm feeling fat and bloated and generally unattractive, there's nothing I love doing more than putting on my tightest spandex clothes and going outside to run and race in front of a few thousand strangers.

If I wasn't already moody - from reasons 1, 2, 3 and 4- this will surely put the nail into the coffin.

I warned you.

So. Even though I'm totally freaked out, I'm still willing to get on a plane and go over there and do it.

Why?

If I can come up with 5 freakouts, surely I can come up with at least 5 reasons to go...

1. I got to watch last year without playing - I really want to play this year.
2. In spite of the crap, I am hoping it'll be fun.
3. I'll get to see about 400 of my favourite people, half of whom I've never met.
4. I like a challenge.
5. Even a bad day racing will be more exciting than a good day watching TV.

We interrupt this pity party...

My Beloved spent the entire weekend sleeping - evidently he was sick. He went down and stayed down for an entire 12 hours. He only does that when he's sick.

Twin A is sick - snotty nose, general malaise (not to be confused with "malazy"), poor pikachu.

Twin B began today with barf, and continued steadily on this course through lunch. After a nap she says she is now "much better."

It's clear now that I have it too. My throat hurts, I feel like crap. I'm almost packed, almost ready. I need to cram last minute packing into my sleep time - sleep is the only thing I know that will kill whatever it is that is about to KILL MY WEEKEND OF FUN. Woe is me.

That said, here's a reason to be happy: it's International Talk Like A Pirate Day and I can't believe I forgot (thanks, GeekGirl!). Here is a short course on how to.

I'm happy to see that this site offers parenting tips for raising your young pirates. It's like they know me. And you. It's nice to get sound advice on when and where to maroon the disobedient child.

So, fly the jolly rogers, me harties!

Yarrr, y'all.

news du jour

This just in: Greg LeMond drops Floyd Landis in it big time. This isn't the first time Greg has cried "doping". He also pointed at Lance, and has previously made pointed references to Tyler.

Lemond is kind of an easy target, and he has had a rough life. Bernie Hinault pooped all over him in the Tour in 1986, after Lemond gave him the win the year before. As a result of being shot by his brother in law (horrible turkey shooting gone wrong), he claims to suffer from Mitochondrial Fatigue. I'm no doctor, but as diseases go, that's a little far out there. He came back later and had some great career successes in spite of this condition.

I'm just gonna say it...He sounds like he probably wears a tinfoil hat.

But I'll reserve judgement.

I've had a supercrappy day, but it was made much better by going for a run. Isn't it great how even a mediocre run will rejuvenate a bad day? My middling 6-miler has made me feel like a human again.

A sweaty, salty human.

Screw the crap, I'm leaving town. I'm gonna stay with 21st Century Mom, and we're gonna run the Bay to Breakers. My understanding is that it's less of a run and more of a Mardi Gras parade with running shoes. There will probably be a lot of naked people.

Salty, sweaty, naked people.

Oh I am so taking a camera!

sick sux

I did nothing this weekend.

I missed the ride with all my Iron friends.

I missed my 12 mile run.

I missed a ride with my friend Dave.

I missed a swim.

If I hadn't missed all those things, I'd be missing more things in the future.

Instead, I spent a day not training.

Then, I spent an entire day in bed.

Then I spent a day making up for spending a day in bed.

I feel OK today. I'm vertical again.

Tomorrow I get back on the bus.

Tomorrow is another day

You're kidding, right?

The ride on today's schedule: an easy 55 - ride for time, take it easy.

The weather: snow, rain, frigid, cold. Sure it's cold, but it's a wet cold!

Did I mention I did Plyometrics last night? I did! (You know, for fun!). My legs are trashed.

I must really hate myself.

Actual ride: 42 with hills in about 3:45 including changing yet another flat tire (I repaired 2 last night).

I have a rule about New Mexico weather. It might look nice around this time of year, but don't be lulled into a false sense of security. It always snows the last snow right around Easter. Could be the day before, the day after, but right around Easter.

Always.

I think I'll go take a bath...

*update*
Coach Tammy has an awesome article on plyometrics here. Excellent reading!

Overly personal moment of insane vanity, with lots of sweary words. Look away now.

About once a month I have a freak-out. It usually coincides with PMS. My coach is aware of it (because I call him once a month about something and say it's time for my monthly freak-out), but I often have to remind my husband why I'm so irritable for that period of time.

Internally I have a freak-out about my weight every month. As in, why do I have this uncontrollable craving for carbs (which I indulge), followed by feeling like a bloated old goat, followed by...Ohhhh, that's why. And the next week I'm OK. The weight freak-out happens pretty much like clockwork. You'd have to wonder why I haven't figured it out yet, but I still freak out and feel like a bloated goat once a month.

I'm resigned to feeling fat this month, so that freak-out hasn't happened. I did, however, take a look at my butt and decide I was done with the cellulite. And I'm done with the belly flab. These bits have followed me since I had the girls, and no amount of working out will ever get rid of them, I've decided. Though it has gotten better, the offending parts are still with me. Stuck for good. Unless I starve myself. And considering how much I like to work out? That would be a really bad idea.

I actually for a minute considered having the offending fat sucked off.

No that thought hasn't left me yet.

Nobody else notices or cares, or they're all just really nice, I've decided. Every chick I know has some part we're not happy with. I think if I had it done, it might make me happier - and then I could move on to obsessing about something else...

And then I think, it seems stupid to want such perfection, it's not as if I want to get a job as a pole dancer. So I talk myself out of it.

Part of the problem is that I look like shit in white - and I'm a rather dazzling shade of blue-white these days. I think I won't feel quite so freaked out about it all once I can start training in less clothes - then maybe Mr. Sun will help me look a little better.

And wrinklier.

I haven't been able to lift as much as I used to, because I've devoted my life to mostly cardio training. Triathlon doesn't require the amount of muscle mass I used to carry, so I have probably lost some. So I feel a bit deflated about that too.

But this isn't the topic of freak-out-du-jour...

No, this month's freak out is about distance. As in, I went for a 50 mile ride today (at not exactly a rocket pace) and then fell into a coma. How on earth am I going to do that AFTER a 1.25 mi swim AND THEN go do a half marathon?

How?

I know it's possible, I've seen people do it. But me? It's not feeling too possible right now.

Today's ride was with my husband - a known abuser of speed limits. I knew he'd leave me far, far in the dust, and I was OK with that. We had an awesome ride north and I felt like Superman for a whole 25 miles. At the stoplight he said to me, "boy I'm feeling really really fast." Our average speed had been in the low 20's. It was a beautiful day. I said, "yeah, me too - we must have a tail wind, because sadly, that's the only way I am fast."

Yup, it was a tailwind, which turned into headwind when we turned around.

Average speed on the way back was in the 15's. Kind of a slog...

I got home and again - everything hurt, so I ate everything and took a nap.

How am I supposed to put this with a run?

I'm totally freaking out...I feel like a white, flabby, fat, non-muscular old lady triathlete who is going to fail horribly in a half-iron attempt...this isn't some little carb craving freak out, this is a big one.

And now I've embarrassed myself by writing it all down.

Lordy.

Bay to Breakers

Well, I'm going to go run the Bay to Breakers. Am I crazy, or does this race sound like a gas?!

Don't answer that...

I hear it's not so much a race as a crazy carnival. A party. I'm up for that! Anybody wanna come with me?

I'm hoping to get into Iron Horse the weekend after. I haven't heard from my Coach on whether this is a bad idea or not. I suspect it's not, he rolls like that. It will mean a lot of climbing between now and then.

Eep!

My leg was fine. Until today. I refused to blog about it because I've been very superstitious about the whole thing. It's IT Band. No, it's tendonitis. No, it's cancer. No, it's a freakin' mermaid tail. I don't care, I just want the thing to go away.

I have managed to keep working around it, through it, whatever - whilst wearing the crazy strap that goes under my knee. I don't know why it works, I don't think I have patellar tendonitis, but it works. That along with rolling on the roller below the knee, it was OK.

I clocked my longest run ever two weeks ago - 11 miles. I figured it must not be too bad if I can do that.

Until today.

I did speedwork yesterday, and distance today with hills. And the knee? She didn't like that. So you know what I said?

I remembered that time that Nytro had to have a Come To Jesus with her ankle. And I told my knee shut up you little bitch, because look over there - see? There's another one just like you. I can replace you. I can.

It worked for a mile or so. Now I need to stretch...A lot.

Don't make me swear on my blog...

it's gotta be the shoes

The saga, oh the saga. The saga of hurting legs and feet and hips.

Every time I have spoken with anyone about shoes, each person offers a different (expert) opinion. I have always trusted one shop, and now I'm confused. And less trusting.

I have orthotics. I have pain in my hip and knee when I run. It feels OK when I get up, but hours later it starts. It sometimes even hurts when I bike - this is not OK with me - crosstraining is supposed to help things like this!

I thought I had ITB syndrome. In truth, it probably started as ITB syndrome. I convinced myself this past week that whatever's going on now is not ITB. It's definitely other stuff...I can roll and roll on the roller and there is no ITB pain. My illiotibial band is, in fact, OK.

It must be other stuff...like the lift I've been wearing in my right shoe for months - to correct my (allegedly) wacky hip and leg length discrepancy. The teeny tiny little wedge of foam, no thicker than 1/8 inch. When I finally got brave enough to take the lift out as an experiment, I found I could run farther before the knee pain came on. I also found that my hip stopped hurting.

I've been wearing the foam wedge in my shoes for over a year. So why would I wear that horrid thing for so long if it hurt so much, one might ask? Well, stupidity could certainly figure into it - I'm kinda dense, it has to be said. I also had myself convinced that it was possible that for effective change to occur to my body, that maybe I had to go through some pain. Pain indicates change (or resistance to change) - I figured if I was feeling pain, it would be hard to tell if it was good pain or bad pain. I couldn't separate the pain it was causing from the pain I started out with. I guess I also figured that when it worked, it would stop hurting eventually, and I would forget about it. That never happened. I'm convinced now that if it helped, it is done helping now.

Bye bye, lift.

It could be other stuff like the shoes - the motion control shoes. Could they be over-controlling my gait? Could the orthotics plus control shoes be doing something bad? Surely not - experts numbered 1-293 said no, they don't work like that.

Expert #423 said you don't pronate. Why wear a motion control shoe? Dang - he's right. I don't pronate! What's a motion control shoe, anyway?

Expert opinion #492 told me that in fact, yes the shoes could be overcontrolling! With those high arches and those orthotics I don't need a control shoe, I don't need a stability shoe. I need a cushion shoe.

What? Cushion? You crazy shoe people and your crazy shoes. I'm skeptical. Of course I am very skeptical. I sneer at your cushion shoes.

I took them away on the condition that I could bring them back if they didn't work.

I ran over 10 miles on them over 2 days on the treadmill: one short run, one long.

Huh. Knee pain, while not totally, gone, does not get worse as per usual script (knee pain is probably still there because I've jacked my legs for so many months now running with the frickin' control shoes). And now that I think about it, all my problems may have started with that one pair of shoes...the ones I was convinced were not the problem.

Bye bye, control shoes.

We'll try these for awhile. I'm not convinced there's one single *right* answer, but so far there's a whole lot of wrong ones. And it's true - if the only tool you have is a hammer...

Knee pain totally in the background for now. Healing, I hope.

Which leaves me to focus on other things...

Like chi running.

It's gotta be the shoes. Please, God, let it be the shoes!

things my boyfriend said

Because I'm feeling sorry for myself, and because it's nearly Valentine's Day, I am offering forth this very off-color link to Things my Boyfriend Said.com.

It's hilarious.

And it's off-color.

Don't say I never gave you anything.

Enjoy.

Woodside Trail Run

Beloved and I celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary. We went to San Francisco for a long weekend without The People.

I love my people, but lemme tell ya...this weekend was pure bliss. We got to meet with my friend Chris, we got to wander through the streets unfettered, we got to sleep in. Bliss.

Since we were there anyway, we decided to join up with the Pacific Coast Trail Runners for a little trail run in Woodside, CA, about half an hour south of San Francisco. Their motto is "runs that aren't races in beautiful places." Even so, you pay a fee, they give you a race number, take your time and you get a t-shirt. Not a bad deal.

On the day they had 10K, 17K, 35K and 50K courses set up. It seemed to be a group with a lot of ultra runners, which makes for a very laid back atmosphere. The venue was Huddart County Park, an open space area in the middle of Woodside. We signed up for the 10K, I was confident that my leg should be able to struggle through that.

I bought new capri running tights just for the occasion, I'll have you know. And it was warmer there than it is here...not to mention sea level. I was REALLY looking forward to this run. I saved up my mileage from the previous week. I had trained to a point where I could do 7 before the pain started - 7 flat miles without much struggle.

In a later post I may tell you about how I'm wallowing in self pity about my IT band, and how it's ruining my life. I'll save it for later.

As it turns out, the course was beautiful and hilly. Really hilly. I had not expected all the hills. I mean, I love hill training, but I was really not expecting that.

I stopped thinking about the hills as I ran though a redwood forest on a soft carpet of leaves and needles. It was achingly beautiful - the trail was narrow, the people were friendly, the sun streamed through the trees, and the temperature was perfect.

At mile 2, the stupid leg started up. And at about 4 miles in my leg hurt bad enough that I was walking. This really sucked, as I had been running uphill to this point, and the rest of the course was gently sloping downhill. You know, downhill - the part where normal people get to run faster, with less effort. I had it in me to keep running, but my leg did not. Downhill + IT Band Injury = Stabbing Pain. My leg was hamburger.

I remembered that I had an extra elastic arch support in my sleeve, so I took off my shoe and put it on to the foot of the affected leg. I'll be damned if the pain didn't move into the background enough for me to finish the race -- at a gentle trot, but by God I was able to run and I finished.

It was definitely the arch support. I could not make the pain background no matter how I tried on my own - no amount of self hypnosis, gait change, nothing made it stop. This is weird because my orthotics already have my arches cranked waaaay way out. They should be fully supported already. Am I just a freak of nature?

Nonetheless, it's a clue...so I'll take it!

I finished - not a great time, but I finished (1:22:30). And then I waited for my husband.

The Pacific Coast Trail Runner people get a huge thumbs up from me, by the way, for stocking the table with gummy bears. And pop tarts.

It's like they know me.

I kept waiting.

This isn't like him, but I knew that if he was feeling good, he would have headed back out for more miles anyway.

He turned up 20 minutes after me. He got lost and did an extra 8K or so. He was quite happy about it. What's not to love about a course like that?!

We spent the rest of the weekend feeling like we'd been worked over with baseball bats - it was a tough course...and I can't say enough nice things about it. So if you're ever in the Bay Area check out their website to see if they're doing a run when you're there. They live up to their motto.

\rant

*language alert*

A life spent wallowing in self pity is a pretty dull one.

I've spent way too long here - so I'll just put it out here to exorcise the demons. The demon in this case is my "devil leg" - the one with IT band issues.

I am really, really annoyed that my IT band has kept me out of Rock and Roll.

It's not that I missed one race. Missing a race because of injury is a smart thing to do, and I'm not going to beat on myself about that. I have totally learned my lesson on the "live to train another day" thing. I was doing well up to that point - that's what I find so annoying.

And when I think about it, I've missed a few big things because of my IT band.

There are races I would have liked to do but didn't, for fear I would end up injuring myself and being able to not run.

I had to cut back on the mileage I planned for the Colorado Relay last September.

Not to mention La Luz training - the pain in my knees at the end of La Luz was so bad my legs stopped working at the end.

I'm so annoyed about it right now that everything is pissing me off.

Everything.

Even the stupid cat who is here pushing on my hand as I try to type. Fuck off, cat.

I've been in self pity about it for weeks. I can't plan any further ahead than next week because I don't know what my leg can do. There are lots of races I want to do, but I will just have to wait and see - and pay lots of late entry fees (I suppose that's the good news).

I am really, really good to my legs. I've been stretching every night before bed, and every day before I work out - for a long time. I've been using the roller once, sometimes twice a day. I use the stick. I stretch the calves. I stretch the hips. I fall asleep with a hot pad on the hip. I take hot baths with epson salts. I rub my leg with precious oils, and burn incense and pray to the hip and knee.

I have good shoes. I have new shoes. I have old shoes. I have shoes designed to kill ITB syndrome altogether (Nike Kantara), and I've been wearing them 24/7. I have ditched my desk chair in favor of a giant ball (my personal theory is that my hip hurts because my ass is not shaped like a chair).

I cut mileage, it starts to feel OK. I bring it back up gradually, it hurts, I cut it back. I've taken days, and weeks off run training. I cross train. It even hurts when I'm on the bike now, sometimes.

I had that question occur to me last week - the one that happens sometimes in relationships. You know, the one where you think, this is too hard. If it's too hard, isn't that a sign? Like it shouldn't be this hard?

I decided fuck signs. Running is supposed to be hard. It's the whole point. Everybody has problems, everybody has to deal with them in different ways. Besides - the problem goes to the background when I go faster.

Hrm...maybe that's the sign I'm supposed to listed to...

I got new orthotics last weekend - again. My orthotic guy is running out of ideas, which is very frustrating. On the plus side, I did figure out (in the course of the orthotic changing thing) that my body was built - a long time ago - to be pigeon toed. I have spent my life trying not to be pigeon toed, and apparently my bones don't agree with my brain. So I'm trying to figure out how my legs were meant to run, and honor that. I hope it helps.

I have discovered on the treadmill that where I put my feet makes a difference - a wider gait seems to help. But it doesn't make it go away, in the way that I used to could run without thinking about it.

Yet.

I'll also be aqua running this week - it sounds bloody boring, but I'll do it.