Steelhead 70.3 Race report, part III

My legs are shaky and unsteady on bike dismount. I wonder if my lack of water/nutrition stops will bite me in the buttuski. My butt-uski certainly aches as I make the long trek to my bike rack spot. I'm finding it hard to focus, but manage the transition routine:

• I cover myself with towel and wiggle out of bike shorts into running shorts.
• Manage to avoid disqualification for nudity.
• Change from bike jersey to sleeveless running shirt.
• Glide, Gu, water, running belt.
• Let volunteer apply sunscreen.

Commercial interruption about sunscreen: USE IT! Back to our scheduled programming:

The first three miles were tough. I got a side ache and in general felt cruddy. A guy running by me said, "Try the coke. You'll feel better right away." He was not referring to the drug, but rather to flat coca cola available at each water station. I took his advice (why not? He seemed friendly enough!) and I did feel stronger and less queasy.

The day was mild, mid-70's, and sunny, so while it felt warm in the sun, it was not overwhelming. I stuck with my plan to stay as wet as possible. I put ice in my bra and in a pocket formed by my race belt and shorts top, dumped water on my neck and pony tail. I am soaked in my finish line photo. I found one flaw in this plan - my electrolyte tablets dissolved in my race belt.

Sigh.

The course begins with a pretty difficult hill - most people were walking. The middle portion is two loops around the Whirlpool campus. For a couple miles we were on a walking trail - paved - shady - nice!!!! I loved the run - plenty of people to chat with - many encouraging each other. At the end of the Whirpool loop is a very steep hill - you do this twice. Each time I connected with another athlete and we chatted our way up. Great distraction.

Before the second loop, I saw a young male finisher lounging on his bicycle. "A little part of me hates you!" I yelled. He laughed and said "You are doing great. Keep going!"

My quads start protesting by mile 10, but I know I am going to finish.

Spectators frequented the route, applauding and exhorting. This was one of the best surprises of the day. Pockets of spectators on difficult bike and run hills enthusiastically called participants to persevere. I tried to thank every group I saw. I have been at the tail end of smaller triathlons and it is a discouraging and lonely experience. This was anything but. My spirits soared throughout.

The volunteers amazed me. Every drink stop was well manned with adults and children. These kids were sweet! I cannot believe they stayed out, cheerful and helpful, for so many hours. The race started at 7 a.m. - pro bikers were on the course by 7:30 a.m., then running a couple hours after that. I was running through 12 - 2:30 p.m. Others did not finish until after 5 p.m. That's a long day for a huge number of helpers and spectators. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Down the long starter hill, around a corner, across a beach bridge, down the chute (again, lined with spectators), and the announcers voice congratulating each finisher by name. "Congratulations to Ann Baker!" YAY! Arms extended overhead, I must have been yelling as I crossed the line, because the pictures are pretty funny - massive face contortions. Nice smile once I was across - I'll have to remember that for Ironman Florida.

7:13, and I couldn't be happier!

Found Mom, who had left the finish line area about five minutes earlier. She was disappointed.

I started to worry about Barry. I thought maybe he had passed me on the bike and I missed identifying him. Mom had not seen him, so I knew he hadn't quit the race. Barry finished in 7:17 - struggled with nutrition so pooped out on the run, his strong leg.

Great after party, like everything else at the Steelhead 70.3. The only difficulty emerged after we had eaten, cleaned most of the grime off at the beach bath house outdoor showers, and started the walk to parking.

When you are tired and accompanied by an 87 year old woman, the parking is WAY far from the start. I envied the participants who rode their bikes out - we had a cooler and chair and Mom. Barry could not carry his pack due to back pain, so I balanced his on my handlebars and backpacked mine. Mom was carrying her bag and cooler. Finally, we found an open VIP parking space and dumped it all and Barry walked to the car.

Recovery wasn't too bad, though I pulled some intercostal muscles and they fired up late in the post-event week. Barry pulled a calf muscle, but is back to running now, training for the Marine Corp Marathon.

All in all, a FABULOUS experience. I am blessed. And since Barry and I are each 1/2 an Ironman, together we make a full Ironman! Good mojo for November!

Get out there and swim, bike or run - or simply walk. But get out there. It's a beautiful world with a lot of great people.

Click to read Part I
Click to read Part II

Team or individual athlete?

When I first started running, no way in heck I was going to work with a group.

Remember all the spitting, belly-aching, itching and gasping?

I preferred solitude at that stage - and even after the spitting, itching and most of the gasping subsided, I could not imagine that other than during beach hatching season, the "turtles" gathered to make a run for it.

Today while putting in my last long run before the half-ironman (have I mentioned I'm petrified?), I saw a woman's running group at the Old School forest preserve.

They were turtles of a certain age (mine).

It looked like fun. Well, the social aspect looked intriguing - The hot-day running looked about as fun as....um...not fun.

It was not fun for the solo runner either. Yikes it was HOT!

How do you decide if you are a team or individual athlete? This decision can determine if you stick to and reach your goal, whether it is a 5K or a marathon.

Time constraints: Does the group meet when you are available? Can you make yourself available? We sabotage ourselves constantly by making excuses rather than accommodations, so think flexibly! I swim at 5:30 a.m. twice a week - most participants then shower and ride off to work. It's okay to go to bed early and miss The Kardashians. (Are they still on TV? Sorry if dated reference!)

Cost: Costs vary a lot! Miami's runner club had a minimal yearly fee and some great coaches, dedicated to improving runners of all ability levels. THEN there are elite coaching venues, with monthly fees comparable to a high-end health club. Consider your financial resources and personal goals in matching to a group. Running with a couple friends is free - be bold and ask a friend!

Intensity level: Do they have a beginner group? When I encounter better athletes (that would be all the time), I am either inspired or discouraged. Remember, the first 5K effort is a BIG DEAL to the first time 5K-er - successful, seasoned runners will most likely celebrate and encourage your efforts. BUT I think it would be easier to quit training if I was the least fit in a group - especially if that gap seemed insurmountable or embarrassing. Again, be wary of self-sabotage.

Personal social preferences: Do you like to be accountable to others? Is it easier for you to exercise with encouragement? Do you prefer someone else to design/direct each workout? Do you work harder with the "pressure" of peers?

Goal: What do you want to accomplish? I was quite content to walk/run my way through a half marathon (By the way, walk/run guru Jeff Galloway has groups! I think this is a GREAT option for all beginning runners.) I read Jeff Galloway, did web research, read (read and read and researched and...well, you know me!), and supported by this bastion of literary knowledge, put together a plan. If you want something more - if you want to improve your running or biking or swimming efficiency, you can do it from expertise books, but coaching makes a big difference.

Remember, you can not SEE yourself unless videoed. If your goals evolve, and efficiency and form become important, an outside eye is almost essential.

If I solo-train, how do I know coaching helps?

That's the subject for another blog...trust me, it can make a big difference!

I want to be an Olympian!

So, you are watching the Olympics and caught up in the athletes’ drive and determination.

“Why not me?!!”

Why not?

Well, for me, and most of my peer group, the good Ship Olympic sailed, um, 30 years ago.

BUT…

That doesn’t mean this is an opportunity missed. Rather, let’s channel that motivation into reaching our own “Olympic” goals.

Why not run a 5K? Swim at the Master’s level? Bike in a road race or fundraising event?

From the age of 16 – 46, I claimed I could not run. I attempted running again at 46.

Turns out, I can run.

Not fast, but at least forward.

I bet many of you have some of the same “reasons” why you believe you cannot run:

1) I have bad knees.

I DO have arthritis in both knees. My knees DID hurt when I started running. BUT they were achy – not injury painful. Turns out, my knees hurt for the same reason my thighs and glutes hurt – I was using muscles in new ways. The more I ran, the more this discomfort dissipated. Still...

as I write this, I am icing my knees after a workout.

Ice is our friend.

2) I am allergic to running.

Seriously.

When I started running, I itched insanely. I thought I was allergic to running.

Nope.

When I was more sedentary, my capillaries stayed small and tight. Running opens the capillaries as they rush blood to the muscles. The nerves near the capillaries are confused by this sudden behavioral change and send a million text messages to the brain: “What is she doing?” “How can we make her stop?” “R u watching this?!”

The brain reads these messages as “itch, itch, itch” (silly brain).

It will stop after a few training sessions.

3) I can’t breathe. My heart is racing. I have to spit. My side hurts.

I am grouping all my physical discomfort complaints. They resolve over time. Five years after my first run, I don’t get short of breath unless I push my pace.
At the beginning, I was immediately gasping (and spitting).
When I built up to a few miles (a year’s undertaking), I would find the first couple miles were hard, then my body adjusted and I was more comfortable.

Running is never completely comfortable, especially at the beginning.

Hang in there.

With my absolute belief I could not run, why did I start?

When I moved to Miami, I complained to my daughter that I could not exercise like my husband who ran every day.

She’s a sassy thing.

“Yes you can. You don’t want to run.”

Gasp. Gurgle. What?

I itch. I spit. I ache. I can’t run.

She sent me a link to a Runner’s World beginner’s program.

For some reason, this time I followed through.

I went to the health club, and walked one minute, ran one minute.

Repeated this 10 times.

Scared the health club personnel by coughing, gasping, turning red and otherwise appearing to have climbed Mount Kilimanjaro rather than walk/run for 20 minutes.

Nearly a year after that first attempt, I decided to run more than three miles. I told my husband where to find me if I didn’t return in 90 minutes, and ran out the door. Six miles later, I was thrilled.

I coughed all day and was sore for three more.

Then I discovered Jeff Galloway. He was an Olympic runner in 1972 – so he’s just a bit older than me. He has a walk/run training program and a planned run/walk approach to the races. It is great.

It's how I completed the Disney Goofy challenge in 2011 and 2012. I am a little proud of that accomplishment but could not have attempted it without Jeff Galloway.

He recently broke his hip and to show people it can be done, he completed a half marathon doing a planned run/walk once out of rehab. I was both inspired and depressed by this act since his “walk/run” pace post-hip fracture STILL BEATS MY half marathon time.

BUT then I am simply thrilled that I HAVE a half marathon time.

You can too! Tonight, DVR or tape or SKIP (gasp) some of the Olympic broadcast and get outside and MOVE!

GO US!