Q & A

The following questions were posted on a triathlon website by someone seeking to learn how their life will change when they start training for a full iron distance race. These are my answers.

Did you prepare meals ahead of time?
No, I am lucky to have a husband who cooks dinner each night. I do pack a good breakfast/lunch each day. Just fruit, cheese, leftovers, hummus and veggies, whatever. I guess I do make a batch of steel-cut oats each week and put them in a Tupperware at work. I heat some up each morning.

Was massage a part of training?
My first one is Sunday. It's a barter type deal. Otherwise it would not be a spending priority.

How much of a life did you have outside of training?
I have a full time job, 2 kids (3 and 5), a husband who is in school and needs me to pick up slack with household chores so he can study. I also do some volunteer work.

How much racing did you mix in that year?
Early-season Half-IronMan.
Mid-season Half-IronMan.
That's it.

How early were you getting up?
5 a.m. every day. This got MUCH easier when it became every day instead of just on swimming days. I used to get up for Masters M-W-F and sleep the other days, and it was SO hard to get up. Getting up every day at the same time is much easier.

How often were you going to the grocery store?
Husband does this, mostly.

Were you able to workout an alternative schedule with work?
No. I get to work at 8:30 a.m. and leave at 5 p.m. I do occasionally run at lunch time with a guy from finance. No one has a stopwatch on me for my work hours. As long as I get my work done and I'm here, it's OK. Once in a great while I will do a long run in the morning and come in just a touch late.

Were you able to get your supervisor at work on board?
Sure, but I don't get much special treatment. I do, however, shower at work A LOT, especially around 8 a.m. before others get here. The shower is a HUGE asset. I also store my bike here on certain days, in my office. I also have a little wooden-peg hatrack type thing that I have hanging on my wall in my office where I dry my workout clothes and towel after my shower.

What is there to look forward to?
I have never felt more strong, powerful or capable in my life. My mental health is amazing. I am confident. I am happy. I feel like I can take on the world. I have to constantly keep reminding myself that it is NOT in my best interest to go to the track and see how quickly I can bust out a mile, or enter a road race (cycling) for the first time ever. It's hard to hold myself back, because I feel so good. I'm thin. I'm muscular. My body looks and feels great. I am eating well. I have FOCUS.

Focus like: screw everything else.
Turn up the rock music.
Let's get to my next workout.

Ferocity.

Just another day in paradise

Notice how there is no one in front of me? That's the view from the FRONT of the pack.


Oops. How did she sneak up there?
















Here's the moon, above that treetop. It's hard to capture on a cell phone camera at 17mph, but it's been awesome seeing the full moon set several days in a row.

Watching friends fall and rise

The obvious benefit of training with a group has been seeing how I stack up against others and being motivated to improve, with role models to do so.
What I didn't expect was becoming entwined in the athletic fates of so many other people.

Recently we have had a spate of bike wrecks, which has me spooked:

• Beth = Bruises from slide on bike path
• David G. = Stitch, bruises, and unplanned training break after pile-up during a sudden turn in a paceline
• Carla = Abrasions and bruises after bumping tires with another person in the group and going down
• Justin = Shattered middle finger after hitting the edge of a sewer cap during a Columbus cycling event and being thrown into the curb
• Ralph = Bruises, pain, and completely destroyed bike after being intentionally hit by a car and having his bike backed over several times by said car driver.

There are less dramatic examples, too, of folks for whom life has gotten in the way, and training has gone by the wayside. For some, they've had to drop out of races or just lower expectations. For some, a bit of the spark is gone, knowing they aren't going to be in the lead group.

And then, in some happy news, one of our group completed his first Ironman yesterday at Lake Placid, which is a very challenging course. He finished in 13-and-a-half hours, a very respectable time for such a hilly course.

Listening to the buzz about his Ironman finish at today's swim had me daydreaming about what they might be saying the day after my big race.
Here's what I think they'll say:
"Wow, she had a really good swim."
"Her bike time was pretty good, but I bet she could have gone faster."
"Geez, that's a good marathon time. What was her fastest stand-alone marathon again?"
"Nice transitions!"

I didn't take this photo, but it's close to what the sky looked like this morning as we dove into the quarry.

I couldn't wait to get in and stretch out my legs.

I took it super easy. My shoulders were aching from doing my run with a Camelbak water backpack Saturday. My legs were still hurting quite a bit from everything. Swimming was just the ticket for me today.

Two guys were running a quick 15-minute loop after the swim. It's not on my schedule. This is a recovery week. I don't need to run today, and my legs hurt. But my discipline failed and I joined them anyway. It sounded fun. It actually turned out for the best, as my legs felt a lot better after that. The stairs at work didn't even hurt when I arrived at the office at 8 a.m.

I'm glad I have an easy week this week. Things were starting to get out of control last week. I was misplacing things frequently, which is a sign of mental distraction for me. I'm getting my mind back together now.

Power Weekend

A 2.5-hour run on Saturday, followed by a 5-hour bike on Sunday, left me a quivering mass of jelly by Sunday night. Throw in some gardening and a couple slow family bike rides, and I was more than ready for bed.

My two big workouts couldn't have been more different.

Saturday's run, despite starting at 5:30 a.m., was hot hot hot. I was also very alone. In the first hour, I didn't see a soul. Not in a car, not walking, not anything. After that, I saw a gradually increasing number of people on the bike path to exchange a nod with.

Sunday's bike was cool and social, by contrast. We had a group of six, thrown together over the course of a week, and it turned out to be a terrific group. No one was high maintenance or in danger of getting left behind. No one was going crazy out in front pushing the pace too hard. It started raining after the first hour, which was a blessing in disguise. Riding in the rain isn't that much fun, but it kept everyone very cool. I didn't need to drink as much, or take salt, and I could stomach a lot more food. Everyone had a similar sensibility about what a long bike workout should look like, even though most people didn't know each other, and it turned out great.

At home, Nora (5) moved up to a bigger sized bicycle (still with training wheels) and Michael (3) left his tricycle behind to ride on the smaller bike with training wheels. Consequently, there were frequent family bike rides over the weekend, proceeding at a pace of about 5mph. It's actually quite challenging to ride that slowly, even in my lowest gear, so the slow-speed work was good for my bike handling skills. Michael needed quite a bit of coaching on cornering and using his coaster brakes, but he's a natural. He even called out "Slowing!" when he was slowing down, just like a real roadie!

This was my hardest training weekend so far, and I made it through easily. I felt like I could have run more, and I felt like I could have biked more. Right up until I tried to walk down a flight of stairs and had to do it sideways because of killer quad fatigue. :-)

Making group training work, with different goals

I'm starting to get into the time when my workouts are longer than everyone else's. I still like the camaraderie, the inspiration to get up in the morning, the challenge of keeping up. But this week, my scheduled swims and bikes are all longer than the group is willing to go.

For swimming, my solution is to get in at 6 a.m. with the 6 a.m. crowd. We are usually finished around 6:50 a.m. If I can convince one person to do another short leg of swimming with me, I can get us to 7 a.m., when some swimmers from another group usually get in, and I can do another half-hour with them.

For the bike, my scheduled weekday workout is 90 minutes. The group usually rides 82 minutes for the Three Creeks ride. No big deal, but that's 16 minutes short over the course of Tuesday + Thursday. So today after we came back from the ride, I did an extra 20 minutes. Then I ran 15 minutes that wasn't on my schedule, just because I felt like it.

The race company has been updating their plans and maps on the website. It looks like they moved the Transition Area from the parking lot by the hotels, on the north end of the Cedar Point peninsula, to the big parking lot at the south end. Sigh. It's OK, but I was so excited because I reserved a spot in Camper Village, which was RIGHT NEXT TO the Transition Area. Now it isn't. That's OK. It will make it a little more challenging for David and the kids, though.

I feel great today. I feel like just stopping in my office and doing pushups for fun.

Grit

Received this email today, from a training buddy, in response to an email about my training plans for the week:

"well - you've got grit going, and nobody's gonna question your dedication."

Thank you for that, Rob. It's the kind of thing that keeps a person going during a week like this. This will be the second-longest training week in my plan. Bring it!

Second time on the Rev3 Course

Had a great day yesterday. Cleveland Tri Club organized a course preview day with Rev3, the race company putting on the triathlon.

I had to get up at 4:30 a.m to make it on time, but it was actually not a problem. I woke up before the alarm.

Here's a photo of the sun coming up on my drive there.

The swim clinic in Lake Erie was terrific. I didn't think there was much to learn about open-water swimming, but there was! We did a lot of things I've never practiced on my own, basically out of fear of looking foolish. We all did running beach starts, with dolphin dives once the water was up to our knees. We practiced our buoy turns. We did a beach exit. We did it again. I was able to FINALLY mix it up with some people, and actually was kicked in the arm pretty good. I was glad, because I keep being pretty worried about how I will react if I am really beaten up on the swim. I also learned that running out of the water, even if the water is only up to my knees, is really tiring and gets my heart rate way up. So, that's something I am noting for the future.

For the bike, we split up into four groups. (Here's a photo of the race director, standing at left, giving instructions for the ride.) My group was supposed to be 17-20mph. The ride leader must have had some sort of ego problem, because as soon as we made it through town, we were going 23. I could keep up, but I learned my lesson on this course in June. When riding with a bunch of people who are only doing one loop, if you hammer the course with them, your second loop will SUCK. So I let myself get dropped before I even got to Milan. I did Milan alone, and was almost to Florence when I saw Adam from BeginnerTriathlete.com up ahead. I caught up with him and we stopped at the gas station together for cold water and bathrooms. We stayed together for the next 10-15 miles, and we ended up riding with the Race Director, Eric, and a friend of his. I couldn't believe it! Here we were, with the Race Director drafting off of us! It was awesome! He was extremely personable and a great listener about what people are looking for in a race. He is clearly committed to doing a great job, and being responsive to customers. Rev3 is definitely setting itself up as a competitor to the Ironman brand. They want to be set apart by being family- and spectator-friendly, and by listening to their customers. The four of us stayed together until Berlin Heights, where there was an aid station. Shortly after that was the turn to head south for another loop. I pulled off there and said goodbye to Adam. (I took a photo of him [at right] before he left.) We saw Eric and Janet(?) ride past, and waved. Then I set out on my second loop alone.

The wind had really picked up, and of course the hill in Milan and the gradual climb into a headwind in Vermillion were much more challenging the second time around. When I came back to Berlin Heights, the aid station was no longer staffed (they had warned of this ahead of time) but they left bottled water there. I went into the gas station for drinks and the bathroom and some Fig Newtons. I was close enough to being done that I was letting my mental guard down, but far enough away that I still had a lot of work to do, into the wind, alone.

When I finally made it back to the resort, I had done 97 miles!! I felt great. The run course was still set up, so I did a couple miles out there, and felt pretty good.

Then I covered my bike in the bed of the truck and grabbed my gym bag. I stuck my head into the Black Bear Saloon, and Eric recognized me right away and congratulated me on making it back. I headed for the shower and washed the bugs and salt and grime off my skin. Then I went back to the pub and ordered this:
Hamburger with cheddar cheese, onion, fried egg, bacon, rosemary mayonnaise, lettuce. Served with a side of fries.

On any other day, I would be completely grossed out by the thought of this burger.

I ate the entire thing.

Drove home and made it in time to read the stories and help get the kids in bed.

Different kind of triathlon transition

This morning I was cutting it close trying to make my morning group ride AND run a meeting starting at 8 a.m. at work.
It wasn't looking good when the start was a few minutes late, especially because one person had crashed over the weekend and wanted to take it slow. She has a dark purple bruise covering her upper thigh. It looks really bad.

Anyway, I was getting more and more worried. We usually finish the ride in 1:22, and we usually leave before 6 a.m. - more like 5:50 a.m. most mornings.

It was 7:20 a.m. before we made it back to my car. By that time I had separated from the group and gone ahead. I was riding and talking on the phone to the bagel place so they would have my stuff ready and I could just run in.

Here's how the transition from athlete to professional went today:
7:24 Bagels picked up
7:32 At work
7:34 Bike, gym bag, laptop, backpack, bagels on 2nd floor
7:40 Board room set up, laptop on, projector on
7:41 In shower
7:50 In business suit and heels
7:51 Doors unlocked and greeting first attendee

Success!
I did run into the boss when I was still in sweaty bike clothes running around like a maniac. So that was a little awkward.

Rain Days

I was concerned about maintaining intensity after my half IM race Saturday. Turns out Mother Nature has it in for me, too.

I decided to go to my normal Monday morning quarry swim, to get back in the swing of things, but on my way there I saw lightening, so I turned around and headed back east as quickly as I could. I ran into the Y and got in the pool, but only swam 22 minutes before they figured out about the thunderstorm. Bummer. I ran after, just enough to get the kinks out.

Tuesday was supposed to be a group ride. I honestly was looking forward to seeing everyone again, and blabbing about my race. But there was rain overnight, and then rain predicted for about 10 a.m. At 5 a.m. there was a flurry of text messages and phone calls, and the bike was called off.

I am not so easily dissuaded, and elected to do the hour and 20 minutes in the trainer in my garage. The weather was actually nice and I could have ridden from home, but I feel safer with a group at that hour. I ran 30 minutes after.

I cannot be sidelined!

YEEEHAW!

Muncie Endurathon: July 10, 2010

My goal: 6:00:00
My actual finish: 5:50:35

Yeah, that's right.
Blew it AWAY.

My goal for the bike: 3 hours.
Actual bike: 2 hours 45 minutes!

Now, did my run suffer because of having such a great bike? Absolutely. Yes it did. That is what Ironman is all about: Holding back on the bike so you don't end up walking the entire marathon. I know that. But I had some good bike fitness going on, and I really wanted to race this and just see what would happen.

Pre-race:

Woke up at 5 a.m. David was a good sport and drove the RV the 5 minutes down the road to the race, parked in a REALLY nice spot with a view of transition, and went back to bed. I had all my race stuff pretty much done the night before. I had my race number taped on my bike. I had my race number on my helmet. I had my timing chip already. I had the race staff put my race number on my legs and arms with permanent marker, along with my swim group number and my age group.
Also, they had assigned spots on the bike racks for each person (with our NAMES on them!!), so it wasn't first-come, first-served like at some races. Therefore I slept in until 5 a.m. instead of getting there when the transition area opened at 4:30 a.m.
I pumped up my tires and took my bike and all my gear over to my spot on the bike rack. I set up carefully, putting everything in its rightful place so I could speed through the transitions quickly.
I felt super pumped up. Other people looked nervous. I thought to myself, "I am going to eat these people for lunch."
On Friday I was talking to Doc before our regular practice swim, and he said, "I wish other people brought to their work the ferocity you bring to your training." Ferocity. I love that. I just kept repeating it to myself as I looked around, stretched, and looked up at a sky that promised glorious weather.
The water was 80 degrees, and anything over 79 is not wetsuit legal, so I left the wetsuit in the RV. I got in the water to warm up a bit, and met a guy who lives in Gahanna, the same zip code as me.

Swim

We waited in very organized groups for our swim waves to start. I was in Wave 6, which was men 14 to 24, and women 30 to 34. We all had red swim caps with our race number on them. There was a volunteer holding a red flag, so we stood in front of her. Promptly at 7:20, exactly as advertised, we were moved across the timing mats and into the water, waist deep. I noticed some very young and fit looking guys behind me, and I switched places with them. This put me in the back row, but right in the middle. I was kind of hoping to get banged around a little to prepare for my mass start at Rev3. I ended up in rough water from all the people swimming around me, but there was no contact, except for someone bumping my feet.

I felt like I was swimming right for the yellow turn buoy, but oddly enough, there was hardly anyone around me. They were following the little orange guide buoys, and I wasn't. Swimming the quarry has given me good practice sighting on something far away. I had picked out a bright kayak next to an anchored sailboat, which were on either side of the buoy. I did start to get nervous when I was really alone in the water, but I knew I was swimming the right way, so I just kept going. After about 4 minutes, maybe more, maybe less, I realized I forgot to hit start on my watch. I treaded water and hit the button, checking to make sure it started.

It was a giant triangle we swam, and I felt like I was giving it just enough gas to do well, but not so much as to be gasping for air when I finished. As I approached the beach, I started kicking a little harder and thinking about my feet. I usually stumble a little when I get out of the water and try to run. I was trying to prevent that by getting some blood back into my legs. I swam until my hand hit sand. Then I curled up, planted both feet very firmly on the bottom, paused a second, and stood up. I felt steady. I started running.

Transition 1

On my way into the beach, I had been thinking to myself, "Socks. Bandana. Helmet. Shades. Grab bike. Go."
As I was coming up the beach to the grass, I saw David and the kids, which was great because I thought they might still be sleeping. They cheered for me. The kids looked sleepy. David said, "Hey, do you know where the camera is?" I puffed, "Yeah, above the couch where the diapers go." That little exchange struck me as funny, and I smiled all the way to the next set of chip mats. I rounded the corner and headed straight for my stuff, picking out my bright yellow and orange towel right away. Socks: on. Bandana: on. (These two are luxury items that just make me feel more comfortable. I have a system for putting them on very quickly, so it's worth it to me.) Helmet: on (You can be disqualified for even swinging a leg over your bike without your helmet fastened.) Shades: on. Grab bike. GO! I headed out to the bike mount area. Lots of people were screwing around getting their shoes clipped into their pedals. My shoes were already clipped in. I jumped on top, pedaling with my socked feet on top of the shoes until I got up some speed and slipped my feet into my shoes while cruising down the road.

Bikety-bike

This was where I was going to shine today. I could feel it.
We made a right turn onto the trail system, and I immediately started getting passed by people. I was passing folks here and there, but they were people who were pedaling in running shoes on flat pedals, or otherwise looked less fit than me. Patience. Patience. Whiz. There went someone from my age group on a yellow bike. I will get her later.
We went about 6 miles on the flat, straight, shady trail. It was a good opportunity to get my head about me.
Then we made a left and went onto a major county road, which was completely shut down for the bike. A two-lane highway, completely shut down. Amazing. This town is amazing.
For the first time, I checked my speed. I had just been going along at the amount of effort that I thought was good. I was doing 21 mph. Awesome. I knew I had to average 19.4 to make my goal of a 3-hour bike.
We came down a bit of a descent and I could see people holding out bottles. This was the first of several fluid stations. I decided to try to get bottle of water. I didn't really need one yet, but I wasn't confident in my ability to grab a bottle from someone's hand at 15-20 miles per hour.
Good thing I practiced. The force of the stationary bottle against my moving hand was too much. I couldn't get my fingers to curl around it and grasp it before it was already gone, bouncing on the road. Bummer. Better luck next time.
I kept up my tough pace. I felt good. My speed was GREAT. I was still being passed, but I was passing a lot of people, too.
As I headed on, I saw a police motorcycle coming in the opposite direction. I didn't think much of it, but then I saw a cyclist behind him. This was the race leader, heading back on the course. Wow. Cool! I had only been out riding for less than an hour, and this person was heading back in. Another aid station appeared, and this time I successfully grabbed a bottle of water. Sadly, it was a tad bit too tall. I could fit it in my bottle cage a little crooked, with the sports top sticking off to one side where it didn't fit under the top tube. I have an unusually small bike, though.
We made a turn to the right onto another two-lane highway that was also completely closed to traffic.
I was focused. Ferocity. My saddle was getting really uncomfortable, though. With almost no climbs or descents, and miles and miles between each turn, all the subtle shifts of the body that relieve pressure on the seat did not happen. I had previously ridden 92 miles in shorts with pretty thin padding with no problem, but this course was killing me. I shifted my weight slightly again and kept pedaling. I told myself if I pedaled harder, I'd put more weight on the pedals and less on the seat.
I saw my friend Amy, who had already hit the turnaround and was on her way back, she swiveled her head a bit and smiled. Then I came up behind Julie, whom I had met at the swim start. She lives in Dublin and works at a country club near my house.

At an hour and 20 minutes, I could see flashing lights and activity up ahead. I thought it looked like the turnaround, but I didn't think I could possibly be near the turnaround yet. I told myself the turnaround was not the exact halfway point, so don't get too excited. Nevertheless, I was psyched! Yeah! I pulled a graceful U-turn at one hour and 24 minutes. On the other side of the turn, I grabbed another bottle of water to replace the one I used.

I was bracing myself for a bit of a headwind, thinking maybe I had a tailwind on the way out. There wasn't really anything though. I had seen one flag at a farmhouse, perfectly limp.

All the way back in, I just tried to maintain my speed, and eat and drink as much as I could. I couldn't choke down a second Clif bar, but I did drink another bottle of Gatorade. At the next
aid station, I slowed down a bit and grabbed another bottle of Gatorade. It had the weird sports top that twists. I thought it was open already, and shoved it down into my refillable top Profile Aerobottle, which nests between my aero-handlebars and has a straw that ends right where my face goes. Unfortunately the Gatorade bottle top was not open. When I squeezed, nothing happened. As I pulled it back out, the whole top came off my aero bottle, and I even dislodged a part of the cap. I pulled that part off and stuck it in my Bento box where I keep my food. I wrestled the Gatorade bottle away from my lid, slowing down all the while. Then I twisted the Gatorade open and tried refilling again. I closed the lid (or what was left of it) but I still had an empty Gatorade bottle in my hand. I was long past the bottle drop zone, where you are supposed to dispose of litter. I really didn't want to litter the course. It's both against the rules and pretty rude to a town that was being so nice to us. I held onto it, awkwardly, for more than a mile. Then I saw some road barricades that looked like they had been put up by the race company. I tossed my bottle against one and rode on.

When we finished the big out and back section and headed off around the reservoir, I finally realized I could check the mileage on my bike to figure out whether I was going to make my 3 hour goal. I was at 2.25 hours and had less than 10 miles to go. Awesome! Yeah! I'm totally going to do this, and EASILY!

The last 10 miles had turns and climbs and descents, which was a huge relief for my butt. I hurtled through the end of the course, past the campground where we spent the night, past the marina, and into a crowd of people. There were signs for the dismount line, so I got my feet back out of my shoes and pedaled with my feet on top of my shoes. I glanced over and saw David and the kids sitting by the edge of the road. They started cheering for me. I did a graceful flying dismount and ran with the bike into transition. David looked at his watch and said, "2:45!?!? WOW!" My bike timer also said 2:45. I was thrilled. I said, "I KNOW!!!" and gave him a big grin.

Now I was thinking: Helmet off. Jersey on. Shoes on. Grab hat and race belt.

Transition 2

I flew into T2 feeling terrific. The euphoria masked any heaviness in my legs. I racked my bike back in its spot and tore off my helmet. I carefully put on my jersey as efficiently as possible, despite my sweaty, sticky skin. Shoes were on in a couple seconds. I took my Garmin off my bike and stuck it on my wristband. I took a few seconds to hit reset and switch it to running. (My total race time was still on my cheapo yellow stop watch on my right wrist.) I stuck some salt tablets in my jersey and took a second to decide what food to take off my bike onto the run. I decided against the Gu, since they would have some on the run course. I took the last half of my Clif bar and stuck it in a pocket. Grabbed my hat and my race number, attached to my race number belt, and headed for the road.

Run

The euphoria of the bike wore off quickly as I discovered the run course was not nearly as flat as the bike course. I never stopped running, even though a lot of folks were walking the first hill. At one mile, we passed the first aid station. Amazing volunteers were ready with Gatorade, water, ice, and towels dipped in ice water. I took a towel to cool my head, but then dawdled as I tried to figure out what to do with it. I ended up turning around and giving it back.
As we approached the first turn, there was marking on the pavement telling the people in the sprint distance race to turn around and head back at the 1.5 mile mark. Some of the other Endurathon runners were looking a little glum, reading it. I announced, "Turnarounds are for sissies!" and got a laugh out of a few people.
At the mile 2 aid station, I decided just to dunk my bandana in the ice water they were using for the cold towels. This was much more efficient. I grabbed a cup of water and a cup of ice. I dumped the ice in the back pockets of my jersey to keep cool, and drank the water.
I met someone going my pace and struck up a conversation. This guy said he probably would end up walking most of it, but I managed to get him to run 3 miles with me. Just when I figured I wasn't going to get him to run another mile, my friend Paul came past me. I caught up to him and we ran together. He had a serious time goal and had to keep laying down pretty quick miles to make it. We had some good conversation, but I was concerned his run pace was going to make me sick, plus he didn't seem like he was going to slow down at the aid station for long enough for me to soak my bandanna and get my ice. So at the next aid station I let Paul go ahead, and I made a new friend. He was older, but when I asked him his goal, he said it was to keep running the whole time. He was wearing a Little Smokies shirt (my last Half-ironman that was really hard) so I knew he wasn't kidding around. His pace was steady, so I decided to stick with him and see how it went. We had some really great conversation, and the miles flew by. I barely ever looked at my watch to see my pace. I knew I was going to make my 6 hours, so I wasn't too concerned. I just wanted to avoid disaster, which means overheating. We started to see some people who were not doing well. I also met Greg from BeginnerTriathlete.com. He joined our pace and ran with us through the turnaround at 6.5 miles. We were three abreast. Then he ran into someone else he knew, and four abreast was just too much, so he and his other pal dropped back and I stuck with my new friend, who said his name was Jack. He was 66, I think. We walked the aid stations together. Each time, I got new ice for my jersey pockets. It seemed to be working. I also took a salt tablet from time to time, and occasionally some Gatorade or a Gu. Jack has a triathlon coach, so he was telling me about his experience with her, and the kind of plan he was doing. I talked about my plan, and my life, and the kids and David. We talked about bikes and compression socks. We talked about the guy we saw as we were nearly finished with the bike who was WAY behind everyone but was wearing a fancy aero helmet and had a bike with a disk wheel. Jack said a couple times that he was probably slowing me down, but I felt like our pace was steady, and felt like it was less than 10-minute miles. The aid stations seemed like they were coming up all the time, although we did start running again later and later. We would usually pick and landmark and say, OK, we'll start running when we get to that sign, or whatever. The things we chose got a little farther away each time, but we always got started again each time. When we got to mile 11, Jack said there was no way he could break 6 hours, unless we started running 5-minute miles. :-) I think he got a little discouraged. I was started to have a weird pain in my lower shin on the left side, which is really unusual for me. I had experienced tightness in that muscle the last few days, but nothing like pain. I checked my total race time and noticed this was going to be a little closer than I thought, and I had better stay steady. I hadn't pressed start on my race watch at the beginning of swim, and I wasn't sure how many minutes I was missing. I wanted to be safe. Just as I thought about speeding up, we saw a guy standing on the side of the road, bent over. I asked if he was OK, and he said he was cramping all over. I told him to get some salt, and we pressed on. At mile 12, Jack said I should go ahead if I wanted to.
I said, "I think I may have a little left in the tank. I'll see you at the finish."
I gave it a little more gas, and had a great last mile. I didn't stop at the last aid station at mile 12. I felt like I was flying to finish, despite the hills on that part. As I crested the last hill, I saw the finish line, very close. I sprinted in (realizing if I could sprint, I probably should have run a bit faster!) and saw David and the kids. They were cheering and hollering. I crossed the line and they announced my name.
A volunteer removed my timing chip from my left ankle, the pain in my leg disappeared. Oh. Duh. I had the chip strap on too tightly and my ankle must have swollen a bit in the heat.

I grabbed a Gatorade and then turned around to find Jack, who was coming across the line.

Then I reunited with David and kids, and our friend Amy (who had finished 45 minutes earlier, despite starting right next to me). I went and got my free food and also my personalized receipt tape with all my times on it! Wow! I've never had anything like that before. This thing is ORGANIZED.



David said he and the kids were waiting for me to finish the run, and thought I might have a really fast run, too, so they had been there awhile. His fastest Half-Ironman is 5:50, so he said he was totally prepared for me to crush that time, and he would have been really happy for me. But as time wore on, he started getting hopeful that maybe his record would stand. He kept looking at his watch, and looking down the road. I showed up around 5:48 (total time). He cheered for me, and the kids cheered. He yelled, "GO MOM!!" and then after I passed, he glanced at his watch and said, "Rats." Nora said, "Dad, why did you say 'Rats?'" And he said, "Well, I think Mommy just beat my time." He said some lady nearby burst into laughter.

So my final time was 5:50:35, 9 seconds faster than his. (His bike course was much harder and hillier, to be fair.)

Could I have run faster? Yes, probably, but there's always the risk of going too hard and getting sick or dehydrated or overheated and not being able to recover. I think I made good decisions.

Pictures and saturation

Here are some pics of my Tuesday ride. The fog was so cool coming across the path.

Today we swam. I swam really easy for the first 40 minutes and stayed with the back group. I wasn't swimming the straightest, and was losing my focus. When we came back to the building, I asked what everyone's plans were. Two people said they would run afterward. One guy said he would swim a little more. The runners said they'd wait for me if I swam a little more. So we took off for the point, and I really turned up the speed, just to see what I had in me. I was actually kicking and making wake behind me. It felt great! I got to the stopping point about 30% faster than my buddy. I was so far ahead, he popped his head up and yelled for me to go ahead and swim for the dock so I wouldn't be late for the run. He turned around from where he was, and we both reached the dock at the same time. It felt like a great swim. I felt normal after, except that I was breathing hard.

The run was good. Slow pace, but challenging hills in Grandview. Carla made the mistake of telling us we were going too slow, and Doc said, "Alright, Sister," and he took off! Shoot! So then we had to catch him. :-)

It was so humid, my clothes were just as wet after the run as they were when I got out of the water from the swim.

Back to the grind

The three-day weekend was awesome, and I rode long every day.
Today I got up and did the normal Tuesday ride, as well. A good start to getting back into the work week. That makes four days in a row of hard cycling for me.

I can't believe how good I feel. I really hope this lasts!

Monday's ride with Justin was really good. We cut it a little short, but still rode almost 50, if you count the ride to and from the starting point. It was super hot Monday, and I was bathed in sweat before I even arrived at Hoover. Going across the dam, I picked up about 150 gnats, which got stuck in the sweat and stayed with me the whole ride. We didn't take a rest stop, so it was a good, solid ride.

On Sunday night, as I was checking the online training forum to make sure Monday's ride was still on, I saw that Justin had taken Sunday off, stating, "Saturday's ride killed me." That actually makes me feel great! He was working harder than me, for sure, since he was pulling me almost the whole time. But still. He took the day off, and I worked out for 5 hours, and then I came back for more on Monday. Yes!

This morning's pre-workday ride was solid, too. We had someone new along, and I was worried about him at first because it's just a technical and hard ride, but he soon proved he didn't need my pep talk. He kept up just fine. My legs were really starting to feel the fatigue on the climbs and the sprints. I also have an occasional cough, which is no good. I think I'm going to ease off as I approach my race Saturday.

No one had time to run after the bike today, so I'll see if Mike from work can run at lunch with me. He's a strong runner, and I imagine it's going to be super hot by lunch time.

This is turning out to be a great 3-day weekend so far!

Saturday I did about 50 miles with Justin, a friend from the area who is training for Pelotonia. He is a stronger cyclist than I, and we have done several rides together, but Saturday was the first day that I didn't feel like I was really holding him up. He's a very courteous rider and always makes sure I'm still behind him, but for the first time I wasn't struggling. David has encouraged me to do rides with Justin and others, because the training rides are so long, it's better to be with someone for safety. The photo is crossing Alum Creek on Cheshire. Justin took it with his iPhone.

Sunday (today) was an amazing day.
One of the members of the tri club, Mark, had decided to host a self-supported triathlon, ending at his house with a party for all the spouses, kids, etc. The event was to start at the quarry, but I didn't feel it was enough cycling mileage for me, so I rode from home. That made it easier logistically, too, so I didn't have to leave a vehicle behind at the quarry.

It was an hour from home to the quarry, with one stop to pick up another rider who knew a good route to the quarry. The swim was OK, but we had some people there who were interested in the big training day but don't usually swim with us. A few of them weren't in good swimming shape, and some freaked out a bit in the quarry. A couple were just swimming back and forth from the docks, but one came along to the first point. A couple of our group stayed with him to coach him along. It was slow going, though, and they had him stay at a beach on the way to the second point. On the way back, they were going to pick him up again, but I offered to swim with him to the dock so they could get a decent workout in, since I had gotten to swim all the way down and back unencumbered.

My swim felt REALLY slow and easy, but I was going the normal pace. I guess that's what happens when you warm up your body with a bike ride before diving in!

Pics of swim:





After the swim we got our bike stuff back on and headed out. There were about 20 of us, and we quickly separated into a few packs. The "A" pack was probably running 23 mph or so. They were out of sight after the first turn. We were the "B" pack, and there were four of us: two men and two women. The other woman is an absolute machine. The guys were very strong too. The whole time, I had a really great attitude and was very confident that I was going to keep up and stay with the pack. I didn't have any of that anxiety I sometimes get that I'm falling behind and can't catch the pack again. I felt a lot of power in my legs, and I even took a few turns pulling at the front of our little paceline, even though I was probably the weakest rider of the four.

I had one moment that was a little too exciting. All the karma I built up helping that swimmer earlier in the day was spent in one moment. I had been navigating, and I called out a turn, but the leader wasn't paying attention and missed it. The two people in front made a U-turn, but someone yelled "Car back" so I waited and pedaled really slow waiting for the car to pass. It passed, and in the roar of the engine noise, I didn't hear the sound of the second car. I was gauging the difficulty of the U-turn and started swinging into it. I was halfway through the U-turn when I heard yelling, and that's when I finally realized there had been a second car behind me, who was probably just about to pass me when I pulled around right in front of her. It was already over before I even figured out what was happened. I felt really foolish. We went and got back on the road we missed and finished the ride without further incident.

My group got back to the host house and fueled up with some cool water and headed out for the run. The other woman, I don't think she made it out of the long driveway before turning back. She said her back was hurting. Ian and Hutch and I limped on. The first mile was awful. We knew we'd feel better, but it was rough, and lots of climbing up from the river. (Griggs Resvr.) Ian dropped back, and Hutch and I went on to the aid station Mark had set up. He had his kids out in lawn chairs with a cooler of cold water at the 2-mile mark, which we passed twice. (2 and 4 miles.) Hutch didn't seem right, and was asking where the turnaround was, and which way we were turning several times, so I wasn't too surprised when at the turnaround he started walking and told me to go ahead. He said he was overheated. It was past 11 a.m. by then, and really getting steamy. There wasn't a bit of shade on the run.

I headed back on my own, stopped at the aid station, and kept trucking. I saw Ian coming toward me. He had started running again and was heading for the turnaround. I wasn't going fast, but I felt strong. In the past, I've really had trouble being influenced by people who were having a bad time, and it would make me feel discouraged, too. Even hearing strangers in a marathon talking about how bad they felt, or seeing someone stop and walk in front of me, would get me down and get me thinking about stopping. Today I didn't have any of that, and I carried on pretty strong back to the house. I did stop for a couple walk breaks of maybe a minute, but picked it right back up. By this time, I was approaching 5 hours straight of working out, with a bit less food and drink than I probably should have been having for the conditions.

I really felt pretty good after I finished, too, like I could have gone back out and run more.
Instead, I played with the kids, took them swimming in the pool at Mark's, etc. I should have done a better job eating during that first hour after I got back, but it was pretty hectic.

I have another ride planned for tomorrow with Justin. I still feel pretty good, although my legs are rather wiped out. We'll see how tomorrow feels. I have a race in 6 days!

Another terrific day, weather-wise.
I was worried before the swim, because most people had wetsuits this morning, and I didn't bring mine. I asked if they brought along a novel they could read while they were waiting for me. (Wetsuits make people swim much faster.)
It turned out there was one other "slow" person going with no wetsuit, and I was able to beat one of the slow wetsuit people, too. I wasn't pushing hard today. Just focusing on hand entry and body roll and allowing my thoughts to wander a little. I'm supposed to be working on mental focus, but it's a recovery week, so I let my focus go a bit.

It was almost half women today, which was nice. But they are all faster than me. :-)
The talk of the day was a bike crash the night before. A group of several of the younger guys who live in UA/Grandview/Hilliard did an evening ride. The ride leader made a sharp right turn without warning, and the guys behind him weren't able to navigate the turn without getting tangled up. One of the injured was a guy who is doing Ironman Lake Placid in three weeks - the only other person training this year for a full Ironman in our group besides me. It sounds like he will still be OK to race. The group that crashed placed a phone call to "Doc," our eldest training buddy. He is an actual M.D., so he went out to rescue the group, collect the bikes in his truck and give everyone a ride home. He also put a stitch in the arm of the guy who is training for Lake Placid. He sounds like someone whose phone number I should add to my address book! Garrity won't be able to swim until it heals. It's a good reminder about risk assessment in this sport, and the kind of skill it takes to do group riding.

I enjoy group riding, but it scares me a little. I'm starting to get more comfortable with it, but this is a good reminder for me not to let my guard down.

Took a couple pics of the quarry this morning with my phone - I'll post them later.

We ran after the swim - a group of four. We did four and a half miles in Grandview, including a few hills. On the steepest hill, we ran to the top, then jogged back to the bottom and did it again. The run felt pretty great. No knee discomfort. My breathing was manageable. I think the harder bike riding is starting to show up in my run pace. I seem to be able to hold a faster pace more comfortably, probably because of the fitness I'm gaining on the bike.

These guys will either kill me or make me stronger, I guess!

My family came home last night after being gone for 1.5 weeks!! It was great to see everyone. I've been really lonely, but definitely able to focus on training, training, training. My challenge now will be to see if I can keep up the volume and intensity with everyday life factors coming back into the picture.

Today's group ride was nice, but smaller than usual and a bit slower than usual.
In what was surely not my finest moment, I made a decision to leave my duffel bag with my work clothes in it in the bed of the truck, where it had been cushioning my bike for the drive to Bexley.

When we got back from the ride, and sprinkler system in the yard I parked next to had been watering my truck bed faithfully. I should have thought of that - the sprinkler came on while I was getting my bike set up. I should have put the bag in the cab.

Didn't.

Fortunately I keep extra clothes in my office so that when I commute to work, I don't have to carry clothes and shoes on my bike. The clothes I had packed in the duffel bag were soaked.