Over a month ago, I left off talking about the choice: group or solo training.
Today I reaped the benefits of group.
When I joined Vision Quest coaching, one of the available activities was a coached swim practice.
I had been swimming on my own, attempting to learn Total Immersion swimming from the book, Total Immersion: The Revolutionary Way To Swim Better, Faster, and Easier.
I thought I was doing...swimmingly...well.
ehhh...no.
The coach, Marcia Cleveland, was fantastic. I was quickly overwhelmed by the practice pace...
WAIT - maybe I should mention here that I had at least 7-10 years of swimming lessons as a kid. The YMCA was a reasonable investment for my limited-income family. So I do cope with water without fear.
...and Marcia carefully, week by week, corrected my stroke, starting with "you are all crunched up."
No, I was sleek as a dolphin, stretching and reaching...crunched up? Really?
Yes, really. Turns out what was in my head was not translating to the reality of my body.
So I stretched out...and she said "nope, not yet!" and stretched, and stretched...and then got to work on not crossing my arms over the center line.
REALLY - I'm shooting them straight ahead!
Ah, No.
And so on...and today, in the Clearwater gulf waters, I reaped the reward of all of Marcia's work. I swam two miles, in relative comfort, understanding my body position and working FAR less hard than I did in the past.
If you are thinking triathlon, unless you were a swim team swimmer, swimming lessons are probably an essential.
Open water swimming in water similar to your triathlon is essential as well. I say similar water because swimming in Lake James, where my brother has a cottage, is harder than the pool; and the ocean, although not choppy this morning, is harder than Lake James.
Swimming in the gulf:
1. Is noisier. It's weird, but I put my head in and there is all sorts of noise, distracting and overwhelming my technique focus.
2. Is salty (duh). BUT this is something to get used to - it burns the back of my throat and does not taste so good. My stomach is more upset after a gulf than lake swim (I can't swim without swallowing some water, can you?)
3. Is fishier. Smells fishier, feels fishier, and appears fishier (see more fish!). I touched a few - eep!
Today there were quite a few gulf swimmmers using the long "lane" formed by the protected swimming area posts. It's just over a half mile long - perfect for my Ironman training. I decided to go for it, and swam my farthest - two miles - ish (hard to tell exactly).
I felt great - sleek and fast like a dolphin - and this time, I don't think I'm too far off!
Thanks to all who have contributed to my Ironman Foundation effort for Cystic Fibrosis, in particular the Boomer Esiason Foundation. I am incredibly grateful!
Showing posts with label training. Show all posts
Showing posts with label training. Show all posts
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
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:
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
- 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.
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
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Steelhead 70.3 Race Report 2012, Part I
If you are an experienced triathlete, this entry is NOT for you.
I mean, feel free, but I am NOT an experienced triathlete, unless one loosely defines "experienced" as having done, oh, let's say...one sprint and three olympic length events.
Ah, the other clue: I do not call them races.
When I read race reports, frequently the authors scoff at those who walked up steep hills on the run course.
I and my pals walk up those hills with pride.
We are finishers.
Hear us roar...with a few whimpers and whines thrown in purely as audio accents.
I am a 50 year old woman who is having the best time ever as a Finisher of these fun and fabulous events.
Last Saturday, 8/18/2012, I traveled with my husband and mother to Benton Harbor Michigan to participate in our first Half Ironman - part of my training for Ironman Florida in November.
The Half Ironman is 1.2 mile swim, 56 miles on the bike, 13.1 mile run.
I have been following the Don Fink Ironfit book training plan, sticking mostly to the "Competitive" level, not because I think I'll be competitive, but because I want to do all I can to make sure I'll successfully finish IM Florida.
I have also joined a local triathlon coaching group. Because of their activities, I am a stronger swimmer and cyclist than I hoped.
SO, arriving at the Steelhead registration, I was not as anxious as at the shorter triathlons of past year.
The volunteers were amazing, from the boy scout parking police to the registration tents and bike area monitors. It went smoothly and quickly. The athlete meeting was succinct and informational.
We stayed at the Holiday Inn Express which is near I-94. The hotel put out early-bird fruit and food at 4:30 a.m. for the participants. We brought our own dinner (I am always afraid of setting off my GI upset with "foreign" food). Each room had a microwave and fridge, so no problem. For a fee, the hotel allowed triathletes to keep room until 4 p.m. Since we had NO idea how long we would take (my goal was under 8 hours)(if you are choking and sputtering right now, please close this window!), we didn't take this option. The race transitions areas and finish line are in Jean Klock park, and the park has two outdoor, public shower areas, so a post-race rinse is possible.
I am a Catholic Christian, so we attended a nice Mass at St. Bernard's Church - 5 p.m. Perfect. The music was very cool - I think one musician was playing a zither! We ate about 3 p.m., and light snack later.
Early to bed, along with most of the hotel guests.
3:30 a.m. - rise and shine!
I've been burping up my usual pre-marathon meal during the swim, so switched to rice cakes with peanut butter and honey and an FRS energy drink.
I ate a banana in the car. I am feeling stuffed. Blech. No more food.
We dropped off our bikes the night before, so took the shuttle from the parking lot to race central.
Nerves nerves nerves.
Set up Momma under a shade tree scouted yesterday afternoon: chair, cooler, book. Oriented her to the general set up for swim return, bike in and out, finish line.
Into bike transition to lay out clothes.
I've gotten a little far without mentioning the outstanding weather.
OUTSTANDING.
At 5 a.m., it's 55 degrees, little wind, clear skies. The water is 67 degrees and calm. It should get up to the mid-70's.
I was worried about being cold on the bike, so my transition pile is a little crazy. I see veterans' stacks: socks and shoes. I have:
I mean, feel free, but I am NOT an experienced triathlete, unless one loosely defines "experienced" as having done, oh, let's say...one sprint and three olympic length events.
Ah, the other clue: I do not call them races.
When I read race reports, frequently the authors scoff at those who walked up steep hills on the run course.
I and my pals walk up those hills with pride.
We are finishers.
Hear us roar...with a few whimpers and whines thrown in purely as audio accents.
I am a 50 year old woman who is having the best time ever as a Finisher of these fun and fabulous events.
Last Saturday, 8/18/2012, I traveled with my husband and mother to Benton Harbor Michigan to participate in our first Half Ironman - part of my training for Ironman Florida in November.
The Half Ironman is 1.2 mile swim, 56 miles on the bike, 13.1 mile run.
I have been following the Don Fink Ironfit book training plan, sticking mostly to the "Competitive" level, not because I think I'll be competitive, but because I want to do all I can to make sure I'll successfully finish IM Florida.
I have also joined a local triathlon coaching group. Because of their activities, I am a stronger swimmer and cyclist than I hoped.
SO, arriving at the Steelhead registration, I was not as anxious as at the shorter triathlons of past year.
The volunteers were amazing, from the boy scout parking police to the registration tents and bike area monitors. It went smoothly and quickly. The athlete meeting was succinct and informational.
We stayed at the Holiday Inn Express which is near I-94. The hotel put out early-bird fruit and food at 4:30 a.m. for the participants. We brought our own dinner (I am always afraid of setting off my GI upset with "foreign" food). Each room had a microwave and fridge, so no problem. For a fee, the hotel allowed triathletes to keep room until 4 p.m. Since we had NO idea how long we would take (my goal was under 8 hours)(if you are choking and sputtering right now, please close this window!), we didn't take this option. The race transitions areas and finish line are in Jean Klock park, and the park has two outdoor, public shower areas, so a post-race rinse is possible.
I am a Catholic Christian, so we attended a nice Mass at St. Bernard's Church - 5 p.m. Perfect. The music was very cool - I think one musician was playing a zither! We ate about 3 p.m., and light snack later.
Early to bed, along with most of the hotel guests.
3:30 a.m. - rise and shine!
I've been burping up my usual pre-marathon meal during the swim, so switched to rice cakes with peanut butter and honey and an FRS energy drink.
I ate a banana in the car. I am feeling stuffed. Blech. No more food.
We dropped off our bikes the night before, so took the shuttle from the parking lot to race central.
Nerves nerves nerves.
Set up Momma under a shade tree scouted yesterday afternoon: chair, cooler, book. Oriented her to the general set up for swim return, bike in and out, finish line.
Into bike transition to lay out clothes.
I've gotten a little far without mentioning the outstanding weather.
OUTSTANDING.
At 5 a.m., it's 55 degrees, little wind, clear skies. The water is 67 degrees and calm. It should get up to the mid-70's.
I was worried about being cold on the bike, so my transition pile is a little crazy. I see veterans' stacks: socks and shoes. I have:
- A regular size towel which I will use to hide my bottom half while I change from swim shorts into my padded bike pants. I get too sore on the bike to wear my thin-chamoised tri-shorts.
- Saddle lubricant for my precious parts.
- Glide (a protective solid lubricant) for other moving areas.
- Bike shirt.
- Sleeveless running shirt which I plan to wear as a base layer if I am cold.
- Compression calf sleeves.
- Arm warmers.
- Socks
- Shoes
- Water bottle and small towel to get sand off my feet.
- Small bottle of alcohol to get water out of my ears (that's my story and I'm sticking to it).
In SECOND pile:
- Running shoes
- Fresh socks
- Mole skin strips for feet sore areas.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
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!
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!
Friday, August 3, 2012
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!
“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!
Friday, July 20, 2012
Midwesterner Again
So, I am no longer a Midwesterner living in Miami.
I’m a Midwesterner living in the Midwest.
Kind of takes the kick out of the blog.
Nothing funny or blog-worthy will ever happen to me again.
Well….
As anyone recently trapped in a conversation with me will verify, I am training for an Ironman.
I can’t seem to help mentioning it…
a lot…
… along with all the gory, gritty, grimacing training details.
I’m sorry.
Consider this a blanket apology covering my articulations, both written and verbal, from November 4, 2011 to November 10, 2012. The race is November 3, and I give the 10th to allow for the post-event euphoria to dissipate to a reasonable level.
I’m especially chatty under the influence of endorphins.
An Ironman triathlon is 2.4-mile open water swim, 112-mile bike ride, and 26.2 mile run.
In order to survive this, training is essential. I’m currently doing about 15 hours/week of swim, bike, run, and “functional training” (strength, stretch, abs).
I gained some perspective on this effort from an unexpected encounter.
Perspective and four enormous bruise/scrapes.
I am learning to ride in the aero position – where the cyclist has his elbows on pads centered on the bar. I’m taking it slowly, 10 miles at a time, and I am pleased with my progress. I anticipated balance issues, but after a few practices around a small parking lot, I moved onto the circular road in a nearby forest preserve. It is a 1.5-mile track with a bike lane, very limited traffic, some good curves and a gradual uphill to practice bike control.
Slow, slow, a bit faster, faster, full speed.
Woo hoo.
Early in yesterday’s trek, I passed a cross-country squad, running on the left of the single lane road.
On lap five, I saw them again, still grouped on the left. A biker flanked them – for pace or protection – on the open road side. I was going about 16 mph, so moved over to pass on right.
They made a sharp turn into a parking area. The biker moved into my path.
I yelled “ON YOUR RIGHT!” but….
CRASH.
Ow.
I clearly remember my hip and elbow smacking the pavement, followed by the crack of my helmet.
ALWAYS wear a helmet!
You never know when the unexpected will occur. That’s why it is UNEXPECTED. Without a helmet, my head would be Humpty-Dumptied. Instead, after a few minutes of nausea and a careful exploration of the range of motion of my elbow and shoulder, I was able to get up and walk (hobble) away with the help of the team's coach.
Turns out, this guy was a three time Ironman Wisconsin finisher. As we chatted, he said he encourages the girls to enjoy training. Athletes spend hours training for one event. If something happens at that event – an injury, bike failure, extreme heat, rain – the athlete is disappointed, but should not look at the preparation as time lost, but time enjoyed.
Wow.
The Ironman will take me between 15 (optimistic, perfect) to 17 (that’s all rules allow) hours.
Conservatively, I will spend 500 hours training.
At 7 a.m., when I did my eight mile run, I realized I would not be out on the beautiful Lake County forest preserve trail if I wasn’t training. I would not have seen how the one-inch rain yielded a foot of prairie plant growth. I saw bluebirds, yellow finches, woodpeckers, red-winged blackbirds – and a majestic heron that rose from the pond to fly low over my head. Bunnies, geese, frogs, flowers, ponds…
I am blessed by this process and resolve to enjoy my swims, bikes, and runs. I am seeing beautiful places and meeting fun, supportive people. What a grace!
Be at peace, enjoy the path of your day, and…
WEAR YOUR HELMET!
I’m a Midwesterner living in the Midwest.
Kind of takes the kick out of the blog.
Nothing funny or blog-worthy will ever happen to me again.
Well….
As anyone recently trapped in a conversation with me will verify, I am training for an Ironman.
I can’t seem to help mentioning it…
a lot…
… along with all the gory, gritty, grimacing training details.
I’m sorry.
Consider this a blanket apology covering my articulations, both written and verbal, from November 4, 2011 to November 10, 2012. The race is November 3, and I give the 10th to allow for the post-event euphoria to dissipate to a reasonable level.
I’m especially chatty under the influence of endorphins.
An Ironman triathlon is 2.4-mile open water swim, 112-mile bike ride, and 26.2 mile run.
In order to survive this, training is essential. I’m currently doing about 15 hours/week of swim, bike, run, and “functional training” (strength, stretch, abs).
I gained some perspective on this effort from an unexpected encounter.
Perspective and four enormous bruise/scrapes.
I am learning to ride in the aero position – where the cyclist has his elbows on pads centered on the bar. I’m taking it slowly, 10 miles at a time, and I am pleased with my progress. I anticipated balance issues, but after a few practices around a small parking lot, I moved onto the circular road in a nearby forest preserve. It is a 1.5-mile track with a bike lane, very limited traffic, some good curves and a gradual uphill to practice bike control.
Slow, slow, a bit faster, faster, full speed.
Woo hoo.
Early in yesterday’s trek, I passed a cross-country squad, running on the left of the single lane road.
On lap five, I saw them again, still grouped on the left. A biker flanked them – for pace or protection – on the open road side. I was going about 16 mph, so moved over to pass on right.
They made a sharp turn into a parking area. The biker moved into my path.
I yelled “ON YOUR RIGHT!” but….
CRASH.
Ow.
I clearly remember my hip and elbow smacking the pavement, followed by the crack of my helmet.
ALWAYS wear a helmet!
You never know when the unexpected will occur. That’s why it is UNEXPECTED. Without a helmet, my head would be Humpty-Dumptied. Instead, after a few minutes of nausea and a careful exploration of the range of motion of my elbow and shoulder, I was able to get up and walk (hobble) away with the help of the team's coach.
Turns out, this guy was a three time Ironman Wisconsin finisher. As we chatted, he said he encourages the girls to enjoy training. Athletes spend hours training for one event. If something happens at that event – an injury, bike failure, extreme heat, rain – the athlete is disappointed, but should not look at the preparation as time lost, but time enjoyed.
Wow.
The Ironman will take me between 15 (optimistic, perfect) to 17 (that’s all rules allow) hours.
Conservatively, I will spend 500 hours training.
At 7 a.m., when I did my eight mile run, I realized I would not be out on the beautiful Lake County forest preserve trail if I wasn’t training. I would not have seen how the one-inch rain yielded a foot of prairie plant growth. I saw bluebirds, yellow finches, woodpeckers, red-winged blackbirds – and a majestic heron that rose from the pond to fly low over my head. Bunnies, geese, frogs, flowers, ponds…
I am blessed by this process and resolve to enjoy my swims, bikes, and runs. I am seeing beautiful places and meeting fun, supportive people. What a grace!
Be at peace, enjoy the path of your day, and…
WEAR YOUR HELMET!
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