I have to say, in all of my fantasies about IRONMAN never did was I able to conceive of the feeling in my body that this level of training would generate. I have at times vacillated between a sense of euphoria and strength I have never before known and the feeling that I have actually hit a brick wall in milliseconds. Thankfully the average of these feelings leaves me most frequently with a sense of awe and determination that I can get over the brick wall and an acceptance that I will continue to be tired.
This weekend Trina and I experienced some really tremendous workouts together. Our 50 mile ride pushed us to the brink with an unexpected series of long rolling hills. We took a new ride and we were unaware of the hills until they were on us like white on rice. Ordinarily this would be fine, but we had just finished the tour de blast and were, well, tired of hills. But we rode on.
Our 15 mile run was fun and we worked every mile to take control of our bodies and the mileage....and it worked! We operated like a well oiled machine to get one another safely and successfully from mile 1 to the final 15th mile. Our trip included a mix of concrete and bark paths and one quick stop at home to get our camelbacks off and our waste packs on. We learned that camelbacks are TOO HARD to run with....but that water packs around the waist are a god send in the 90 degree heat.
Last night, after recovering by consuming my weight in food and water, we shopped for our weeks groceries and planned our workouts for the next week and month. The distances that we have planned out (based on Meg's experience and coach and the million books that we have read), are certainly doable, and they are TERRIBLY scary. Not scary like "I don't want to jump out of this perfectly good plane", more scary like "oh dear god I have to go up THAT mountain on my fixed gear bike?" But we know that we have felt this way before and that we will likely feel this way again. This is the psychological part of our preparation, right?
As for our groceries, we are focused on increasing our consumption of fresh fruits and vegetables every time we eat anything. We have also included a menu of whole wheat pasta dinners with vegetables for the week. Protein sources include turkey, fish and chicken this week. We will begin juicing carrots for Trina in the mornings to help get her calorie consumption up with foods she can tolerate with the intense schedule.
We can hardly believe we are 9 weeks from race day. After so many months and years of dreaming it is incredible to see the date approaching so quickly. We love this and fear this simultaneously. Bring on the armor...we're going deep!
Monday, June 30, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Skipping & Galloping
Yes, we conquered Mt St Helens....on a beautiful day. It was a fun ride for me and I had a great time riding with Jen. We just plain ride great together and it feels like the pre-baby days when we ride. The best part of the day however, was watching Trina (TT) and Jennifer (sassy-femme) kick ass on their first hilly (& longer) ride. I mean...Jen and I have done these types of things before and I have a rather 'selective memory' when it comes to hills, so didn't quite accurately portray the hills involved. Oops. However, they really did an amazing job and it was really an accomplishment. I think if that had been my first ride of both that length and incline I would have thrown myself into the ashy Toutle River and called it a day. So big congrats to them for showing their Ironman colors! :)
Yesterday Jen and I ran 16 miles. It was a great run. Well, we felt good and strong and fast. We hit a wall and things got stiff as one might imagine the last few miles, but the overall feeling was "wow, we are doing great!". We have devised our new way of long runs that really seem to be working. We walk at first, then run 40-ish minutes. Then after that we do 10 minute chunks and alternate who gets to decide how we break it up. We might do 2 min. walk/8 min. run or 4 min. walk/6 min. run....etc. This seems to be working great for us. We do however need to eat more during ride and practice our nutrition before running also.
We tried to skip at the end. I have visions of skipping across the finish line for some whacked out reason I am unable to explain. We tried. Good god it is hard. Jen suggested galloping. Which was easier. You see, running more than 12 miles is neither good for your body or your sanity. So, I have now suggested that we do no more bike-run bricks and instead will practice our skipping and galloping at the end of our runs. Thoughts?
Great post on body image. I don't know what to say...except the bottom line is that we are women that are crazy strong and fit and do things that mere mortals can't even conceive of doing. We kick ass and laugh while doing it!
Yesterday Jen and I ran 16 miles. It was a great run. Well, we felt good and strong and fast. We hit a wall and things got stiff as one might imagine the last few miles, but the overall feeling was "wow, we are doing great!". We have devised our new way of long runs that really seem to be working. We walk at first, then run 40-ish minutes. Then after that we do 10 minute chunks and alternate who gets to decide how we break it up. We might do 2 min. walk/8 min. run or 4 min. walk/6 min. run....etc. This seems to be working great for us. We do however need to eat more during ride and practice our nutrition before running also.
We tried to skip at the end. I have visions of skipping across the finish line for some whacked out reason I am unable to explain. We tried. Good god it is hard. Jen suggested galloping. Which was easier. You see, running more than 12 miles is neither good for your body or your sanity. So, I have now suggested that we do no more bike-run bricks and instead will practice our skipping and galloping at the end of our runs. Thoughts?
Great post on body image. I don't know what to say...except the bottom line is that we are women that are crazy strong and fit and do things that mere mortals can't even conceive of doing. We kick ass and laugh while doing it!
Monday, June 23, 2008
A mountain, a bird, and misogynist discourse
A mountain
As Sassy-Femme noted, we rode up Mt. St. Helen's to get our climbing legs on. For me, the ride was great for many reasons: 1) SF and TT (their longest and steepest ride ever) showed incredible endurance and mental toughness getting up to the top of that ride; 2) it was beautiful and you could see the mountain (which is more often than not, not the case); 3) i was riding with my sweetie who has a depth of stamina that bouys and astounds me; 4) TT followed her intuition and her body so that we all stayed safe, healthy, and happy; and 4) i felt really strong.
I am excited about the bike portion of the triathlon and know that Meg and I will have a strong race. We plan on doing the entire race together, pushing and/or pulling each other to the finish. When Meg did her first IM two years ago, I saw a couple doing the whole thing together and it was just really sweet and powerful to watch them support each other through the physical, emotional, etc. ups and downs of the race. The race as a metaphor is not lost on me.
A Bird
Update on Jeoff, who we are now simply calling the Roadrunner because I don't know how to pronounce both of the F's in his name: We went back to his spinning class last week, even though I had not forgiven him for smiting my compliment. Meg decided that the Roadrunner must be loved for his performance and not for his interpersonal skills. He should be watched and not spoken to. He should be theatrically enjoyed and not befriended. Sage advice...so I will be content to spin my little legs off and simply bird watch.
Misogynist Discourse
I have an issue with my body....have since I was a kid and I come by it honestly. My mother thought she had a "weight problem" as did both of my grandmothers....perhaps their mothers before them. Shocking! A woman, with a hang-up about weight? Really, in this country?
Yes, as trite and platitudinous (so not a word) as it is...I have always struggled with my body image. Now, I have been thin, chubby, awkward and round, curvy, muscular, lean, flabby, and somewhat overweight...but always powerful, athletic, and able to take up physical space. Through all of those shapes I have thought the same thing: "I am fat. I am not what a woman should be. I am not what a woman should look like. I am fat."
OK people....i have internalized this misogynistic discourse not only at the hands of my mother and my mother's mother and her mother's mother's mother. Notice how we hold the women responsible for perpetuating misogyny. This fat discourse is really a U.S. fairy tale and not the good pro-woman kind like where....hmmm....are there good pro-woman fairy tales?
So, I learned this disgust for my body, my fat, my "bigness," and I continue to struggle to find both my strength and my beauty. As a kid, I thought that I was in the wrong kind of body because I loved baseball, basketball, running around, getting dirty, climbing trees, digging holes, making forts. I learned my gendering properly and thought there was something wrong with my "girl-ness." I was that girl that everyone called tomboy and I mostly wore the label with pride. But, I thought inside, "I'm not what a girl should be...and I'm fat." I know this is not a unique story...I think in some regard that is exactly my point. It isn't unique because the misogynist discourses surrounding gender and weight are pointed and purposeful, these discourses police us. Yeah, yeah...Judith Butler says it better...so go read her blog.
You know what....now that I'm into this discussion this far....I don't have the wherewithal to continue. I think my point is....I continue to struggle with this...even though my body is going to move 140.6 miles in one day in three different kinds of events and sometimes all I can think about is how fat I might look in the damn wetsuit.
more on this later....i will just continue to subvert these discourses even as they inhabit my body.
As Sassy-Femme noted, we rode up Mt. St. Helen's to get our climbing legs on. For me, the ride was great for many reasons: 1) SF and TT (their longest and steepest ride ever) showed incredible endurance and mental toughness getting up to the top of that ride; 2) it was beautiful and you could see the mountain (which is more often than not, not the case); 3) i was riding with my sweetie who has a depth of stamina that bouys and astounds me; 4) TT followed her intuition and her body so that we all stayed safe, healthy, and happy; and 4) i felt really strong.
I am excited about the bike portion of the triathlon and know that Meg and I will have a strong race. We plan on doing the entire race together, pushing and/or pulling each other to the finish. When Meg did her first IM two years ago, I saw a couple doing the whole thing together and it was just really sweet and powerful to watch them support each other through the physical, emotional, etc. ups and downs of the race. The race as a metaphor is not lost on me.
A Bird
Update on Jeoff, who we are now simply calling the Roadrunner because I don't know how to pronounce both of the F's in his name: We went back to his spinning class last week, even though I had not forgiven him for smiting my compliment. Meg decided that the Roadrunner must be loved for his performance and not for his interpersonal skills. He should be watched and not spoken to. He should be theatrically enjoyed and not befriended. Sage advice...so I will be content to spin my little legs off and simply bird watch.
Misogynist Discourse
I have an issue with my body....have since I was a kid and I come by it honestly. My mother thought she had a "weight problem" as did both of my grandmothers....perhaps their mothers before them. Shocking! A woman, with a hang-up about weight? Really, in this country?
Yes, as trite and platitudinous (so not a word) as it is...I have always struggled with my body image. Now, I have been thin, chubby, awkward and round, curvy, muscular, lean, flabby, and somewhat overweight...but always powerful, athletic, and able to take up physical space. Through all of those shapes I have thought the same thing: "I am fat. I am not what a woman should be. I am not what a woman should look like. I am fat."
OK people....i have internalized this misogynistic discourse not only at the hands of my mother and my mother's mother and her mother's mother's mother. Notice how we hold the women responsible for perpetuating misogyny. This fat discourse is really a U.S. fairy tale and not the good pro-woman kind like where....hmmm....are there good pro-woman fairy tales?
So, I learned this disgust for my body, my fat, my "bigness," and I continue to struggle to find both my strength and my beauty. As a kid, I thought that I was in the wrong kind of body because I loved baseball, basketball, running around, getting dirty, climbing trees, digging holes, making forts. I learned my gendering properly and thought there was something wrong with my "girl-ness." I was that girl that everyone called tomboy and I mostly wore the label with pride. But, I thought inside, "I'm not what a girl should be...and I'm fat." I know this is not a unique story...I think in some regard that is exactly my point. It isn't unique because the misogynist discourses surrounding gender and weight are pointed and purposeful, these discourses police us. Yeah, yeah...Judith Butler says it better...so go read her blog.
You know what....now that I'm into this discussion this far....I don't have the wherewithal to continue. I think my point is....I continue to struggle with this...even though my body is going to move 140.6 miles in one day in three different kinds of events and sometimes all I can think about is how fat I might look in the damn wetsuit.
more on this later....i will just continue to subvert these discourses even as they inhabit my body.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
5200 feet in 42 miles is INCREDIBLE
Have you ever stood on top of the world? Have you ever stood in the shadow of a majestic mountain in awe of its magnitude and beauty? There aren't words to describe the way that this can take your breath away. While we did not stand on the 'actual' peak of the world (hiking Everest seems just the other side of insane to me), we did cycle Mt St Helens this weekend. That's right. We cycled UP a mountain. For those of you who choose NOT to cycle, up mountains or down to the corner store, let me share a few statistics. First, we climbed, that's right, climbed on our bikes, for 42 breathtaking miles. And let me clarify, when I say 'breathtaking' I mean, 'can't breath where did the oxygen go I think I'm a fish out of water' kind of breathtaking.
The average incline over these 42 miles was 4%, this includes the 6 miles of down hill that occurred JUST prior to our final climb of 8'ish miles at 13% incline....13%! If you aren't sure of the intensity that I intend to convey with my bolded text let me say, it was WILDLY steep and intense. Over the course of our ride we gained 5200 feet in altitude...yep, 5200, that's five-thousand-two-hundred feet...aka a freakin' mountain. So, you ask, how high is 5200 feet? Well, if the word 'mountain' doesn't put it into perspective for you, try these statistics on for size: the Seattle Space Needle is a mere 605 feet; the Stratosphere in Las Vegas (which feels freaky high when you're on the top) is only 1,149 feet high; and finally, the tallest building in Chicago, the Sears Building is only 1,730 feet high. While it's true, we did not scale the mountain's face straight up with our bikes tied to us. We did however ride up the side of a mountain. It was incredible.
During this kind of a ride one is likely to experience a profound range of emotions. For example, at mile 10 I was euphoric and strong. Mile 20 I was hungry and strong. Mile 23, I was sweaty, worried and starving. Mile 27 I wondered what the heck I had gotten myself into and how long it would be until there was another food stop (it really is all about the food for me). At mile 30 I dug deeper, got inspired and realized that I needed new life goals. Mile 35 I cried from a deep sense that I would never reach the top. At mile 36 a car stopped and the passengers (looking fresh and NOT stinky) asked why we were cycling up the mountain. They offered us A bottle of water (as if a single bottle of water would somehow help at this point). I laughed and asked if they had whiskey, of course they did not, they were driving. It should be noted that I have never before consumed whiskey or even considered drinking it, but mile 36 seemed like the perfect time to start. At mile 40, after about 5 hours and 15 minutes of climbing I finally settled on the comforting feelings that only one thing can inspire. Christmas carols. And so I sang...the remaining assent to the summit. They were, without doubt, the very worst renditions of 'Peace on Earth', 'Silent Night', 'The 12 Days 'til Christmas' that one has ever heard. Thankfully I was so out of breath at 5200 feet that my 'singing' was really more like a quiet 'spoken word'. If only I had had my microphone.
At the summit I was inspired, thankful, elated, and terribly stinky. Stinky like you have never thought was possible. But I was also deeply appreciative. I had not expected that this kind of group ride could inspire such a deep sense of appreciation. I appreciated my body for not letting me stop or wreck any number of times. I appreciated my bike for only dropping its chain ONCE and never having a flat. I appreciated the food (I really appreciated to food), the volunteers, the sunshine, the wind (when it was behind me), the wide and clear bike lanes and the company. I appreciated the beauty of the mountain range and the opportunity to see a mountain that I have never seen so closely. I appreciated my beautiful partner and my phenomenal friends for joining me in this trip and pulling me up the mountain. But most of all, I appreciated the fact that I was done. I mean come on...it's a MOUNTAIN for crying out loud. I will say, it is certainly worth taking the DRIVE up to see the beauty that is Mt Saint Helens. But, leave your bicycles at home. (wink)
The average incline over these 42 miles was 4%, this includes the 6 miles of down hill that occurred JUST prior to our final climb of 8'ish miles at 13% incline....13%! If you aren't sure of the intensity that I intend to convey with my bolded text let me say, it was WILDLY steep and intense. Over the course of our ride we gained 5200 feet in altitude...yep, 5200, that's five-thousand-two-hundred feet...aka a freakin' mountain. So, you ask, how high is 5200 feet? Well, if the word 'mountain' doesn't put it into perspective for you, try these statistics on for size: the Seattle Space Needle is a mere 605 feet; the Stratosphere in Las Vegas (which feels freaky high when you're on the top) is only 1,149 feet high; and finally, the tallest building in Chicago, the Sears Building is only 1,730 feet high. While it's true, we did not scale the mountain's face straight up with our bikes tied to us. We did however ride up the side of a mountain. It was incredible.
During this kind of a ride one is likely to experience a profound range of emotions. For example, at mile 10 I was euphoric and strong. Mile 20 I was hungry and strong. Mile 23, I was sweaty, worried and starving. Mile 27 I wondered what the heck I had gotten myself into and how long it would be until there was another food stop (it really is all about the food for me). At mile 30 I dug deeper, got inspired and realized that I needed new life goals. Mile 35 I cried from a deep sense that I would never reach the top. At mile 36 a car stopped and the passengers (looking fresh and NOT stinky) asked why we were cycling up the mountain. They offered us A bottle of water (as if a single bottle of water would somehow help at this point). I laughed and asked if they had whiskey, of course they did not, they were driving. It should be noted that I have never before consumed whiskey or even considered drinking it, but mile 36 seemed like the perfect time to start. At mile 40, after about 5 hours and 15 minutes of climbing I finally settled on the comforting feelings that only one thing can inspire. Christmas carols. And so I sang...the remaining assent to the summit. They were, without doubt, the very worst renditions of 'Peace on Earth', 'Silent Night', 'The 12 Days 'til Christmas' that one has ever heard. Thankfully I was so out of breath at 5200 feet that my 'singing' was really more like a quiet 'spoken word'. If only I had had my microphone.
At the summit I was inspired, thankful, elated, and terribly stinky. Stinky like you have never thought was possible. But I was also deeply appreciative. I had not expected that this kind of group ride could inspire such a deep sense of appreciation. I appreciated my body for not letting me stop or wreck any number of times. I appreciated my bike for only dropping its chain ONCE and never having a flat. I appreciated the food (I really appreciated to food), the volunteers, the sunshine, the wind (when it was behind me), the wide and clear bike lanes and the company. I appreciated the beauty of the mountain range and the opportunity to see a mountain that I have never seen so closely. I appreciated my beautiful partner and my phenomenal friends for joining me in this trip and pulling me up the mountain. But most of all, I appreciated the fact that I was done. I mean come on...it's a MOUNTAIN for crying out loud. I will say, it is certainly worth taking the DRIVE up to see the beauty that is Mt Saint Helens. But, leave your bicycles at home. (wink)
Sunday, June 15, 2008
My First Tri
Some may think that it was naive, ambitious or even INSANE to sign up for an Ironman before having completed even a single triathlon. And yet, here I am. I've come to think, in my young and inexperienced wisdom, that sometimes it's best NOT to know what one is getting into. Honestly, had I known first hand what training really meant I might never have believed that I have what it takes to really prepare and complete an IRONMAN. And yet, here I am; entry paid, hotel and flight secured, bike tuned, training in progress. Finally, under the wise and beautiful wisdom of my wife, I did my first tri yesterday.
Thank the gods and goddesses, I LOVED it! I have always had the feeling that I would like the sport. All the gear, the multi-sport intensity, the gear, the bragging rights, the idea of pushing myself to the limit and laughing as I cross to the other side....it's righteous. To actually do it; to be in the water and feel first hand the nauseating mix of thrill and panic...THAT is bliss.
The water temp was 63 degrees; aka freakin' cold! And while I was standing on the beach, goosebumps collecting on my drying skin, I could not get my mind to accept, or even acknowledge, that I would be diving in to swim the short 900 yards in mere moments. It was very reminiscent of the morning before my comprehensive exams two weeks ago. There was nausea, there was denial (lots of denial as I am an accomplished denial'ist), more nausea and then the gun. Thank god, in my comps there was no wet suit (can you imagine?), and well, no gun (despite what my mind kept telling my body). But still, that feeling on the beach was uncomfortably familiar. So, the gun went off and I tried to swim. I say tried because despite my intense comfort in open water and relentless training hours, the moment I put my face in the water I had the uncontrollable desire to gasp (for you non-swimmers, this is a VERY bad idea...gasping underwater). This went on for about 400 yards (oh goody!), but then magically, all was well. My brain adjusted to the cold water, my heart rate slowed and I began to swim and enjoy myself. The end of the swim felt amazing and I was actually sad to see the end come so soon. I felt like I needed the mother of all do-overs. But just as I thought of the do-over my lovely wife jumped out of the water beside me (where did she come from?), seaweed dangling from her right ear, and she ordered me to 'RUN!'. "Oh" I said, "dear god". And so I ran.
Running while stripping of a clingy outfit of neoprene and rubber is nothing what it looks like in the adult movies. :) It's weird. Here I am in front of a million people with cameras, running, wet, looking ultra-UNhot, stripping of my rubber. It was a surreal moment. So, naturally, I waived, as you do.
The bike was easy and fun. I wanted to chat, hang out and ride along. I forgot, this was a RACE. So, I rode, but in the back of my head I kept hoping secretly for a bakery or a donut stand at the turn around. No such luck.
The transition to running was wonky, weird and willy-nilly. My legs were the equivalent to an adolescent child rebelling against an 8:30 curfew. I said run, they said stop. I said run, they said f-you. I said run, they said, 'I hate you'. So I kept running, well, I should be honest, I plodded. I found the argument with my legs entertaining as I don't and will never have children. Suddenly I felt like this was one of god's cruel little jokes. Just 'cause I don't have kids doesn't mean I can't get payback...and this made me laugh, nervously, but laugh all the same.
Trina was amazing. Her ride, her run, her swim kicked m-f'ing bum! She was great. A COMPLETE warrior and the motivation to keep me moving faster than my normal 'this is a training run' pace. :)
So, when all was said and done, 1:52 later, there was never a donut stop (so this WAS a myth), and there was never a beer stand. However, I did have an immense feeling of joy that I had finished and enjoyed the process thoroughly....after all, that Ironman entry is non refundable!
Here's to my next 'tri', the tour de blast and more gear! Keep on training!
Thank the gods and goddesses, I LOVED it! I have always had the feeling that I would like the sport. All the gear, the multi-sport intensity, the gear, the bragging rights, the idea of pushing myself to the limit and laughing as I cross to the other side....it's righteous. To actually do it; to be in the water and feel first hand the nauseating mix of thrill and panic...THAT is bliss.
The water temp was 63 degrees; aka freakin' cold! And while I was standing on the beach, goosebumps collecting on my drying skin, I could not get my mind to accept, or even acknowledge, that I would be diving in to swim the short 900 yards in mere moments. It was very reminiscent of the morning before my comprehensive exams two weeks ago. There was nausea, there was denial (lots of denial as I am an accomplished denial'ist), more nausea and then the gun. Thank god, in my comps there was no wet suit (can you imagine?), and well, no gun (despite what my mind kept telling my body). But still, that feeling on the beach was uncomfortably familiar. So, the gun went off and I tried to swim. I say tried because despite my intense comfort in open water and relentless training hours, the moment I put my face in the water I had the uncontrollable desire to gasp (for you non-swimmers, this is a VERY bad idea...gasping underwater). This went on for about 400 yards (oh goody!), but then magically, all was well. My brain adjusted to the cold water, my heart rate slowed and I began to swim and enjoy myself. The end of the swim felt amazing and I was actually sad to see the end come so soon. I felt like I needed the mother of all do-overs. But just as I thought of the do-over my lovely wife jumped out of the water beside me (where did she come from?), seaweed dangling from her right ear, and she ordered me to 'RUN!'. "Oh" I said, "dear god". And so I ran.
Running while stripping of a clingy outfit of neoprene and rubber is nothing what it looks like in the adult movies. :) It's weird. Here I am in front of a million people with cameras, running, wet, looking ultra-UNhot, stripping of my rubber. It was a surreal moment. So, naturally, I waived, as you do.
The bike was easy and fun. I wanted to chat, hang out and ride along. I forgot, this was a RACE. So, I rode, but in the back of my head I kept hoping secretly for a bakery or a donut stand at the turn around. No such luck.
The transition to running was wonky, weird and willy-nilly. My legs were the equivalent to an adolescent child rebelling against an 8:30 curfew. I said run, they said stop. I said run, they said f-you. I said run, they said, 'I hate you'. So I kept running, well, I should be honest, I plodded. I found the argument with my legs entertaining as I don't and will never have children. Suddenly I felt like this was one of god's cruel little jokes. Just 'cause I don't have kids doesn't mean I can't get payback...and this made me laugh, nervously, but laugh all the same.
Trina was amazing. Her ride, her run, her swim kicked m-f'ing bum! She was great. A COMPLETE warrior and the motivation to keep me moving faster than my normal 'this is a training run' pace. :)
So, when all was said and done, 1:52 later, there was never a donut stop (so this WAS a myth), and there was never a beer stand. However, I did have an immense feeling of joy that I had finished and enjoyed the process thoroughly....after all, that Ironman entry is non refundable!
Here's to my next 'tri', the tour de blast and more gear! Keep on training!
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Training in the Midst of 'Life'
All the times that I have watched Ironman on TV (and I've seen a lot) never once did I consider that these athletes in all of their varying shapes and sizes had lives. Lives that required attention, time, work, studying, and/or effort that was entirely separate from their Ironman training experience. Now however, as I am prepared to take my PhD comprehensive examinations, more than ever I am cognizant that no Ironperson does this thing without other 'things' happening concurrently. It would be helpful if on the number bibs people could have their name AND what they had to 'do' while training. "New Mom", "Waistaff", "Lawyer", "New groom", "Barista", "Plumber", "Therapist....we all need one", "PhD student". These would really help me put things into perspective. :)
So during this first 'phase' of training I have also been preparing to take my written preliminary examinations AND my oral proposal/defense. Yesterday, the day before the 'party' started it was as if the universe decided to 'play' with my head. I ended up having to cancel my run, but did get my swim in. But with the way the day went, I'm freakin' lucky I didn't drown in the five feet of water in the lap pool. Man, I'm telling you; yesterday, I fell down three times (not that it is unusual for me to fall down, I do this with relative frequency...but not usually three times in one day), the power went out campus wide while I was printing and editing my proposal, I dropped my 'reduced fat' Oreo (please, what a contradiction) down a long flight of stairs (a travesty!), when printing (the second time) my proposal the copier made up blank pages randomly throughout the 600 I had to print...fun. Thankfully I got through the day relatively unscathed and having done my swim workout. Today I am to ride for a few hours...seems simple enough. First I just have to write and pass the first day of exams.
I wonder if there are any people to do Ironman who are 'sorta' into it. Are there any Ironpeople who 'kinda' do life, 'sorta' like to train, 'kinda' take life by the horns and mold it into submission?
So during this first 'phase' of training I have also been preparing to take my written preliminary examinations AND my oral proposal/defense. Yesterday, the day before the 'party' started it was as if the universe decided to 'play' with my head. I ended up having to cancel my run, but did get my swim in. But with the way the day went, I'm freakin' lucky I didn't drown in the five feet of water in the lap pool. Man, I'm telling you; yesterday, I fell down three times (not that it is unusual for me to fall down, I do this with relative frequency...but not usually three times in one day), the power went out campus wide while I was printing and editing my proposal, I dropped my 'reduced fat' Oreo (please, what a contradiction) down a long flight of stairs (a travesty!), when printing (the second time) my proposal the copier made up blank pages randomly throughout the 600 I had to print...fun. Thankfully I got through the day relatively unscathed and having done my swim workout. Today I am to ride for a few hours...seems simple enough. First I just have to write and pass the first day of exams.
I wonder if there are any people to do Ironman who are 'sorta' into it. Are there any Ironpeople who 'kinda' do life, 'sorta' like to train, 'kinda' take life by the horns and mold it into submission?
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
low low low kind of week
Since jen and i couldn't be removed from our bed on saturday to ride we chose to walk to a party we were going to. That was 5.5-6 miles away--pushing lucy in the stroller. Our plan was to take bus home. However, we stayed too long so we walked home as well. So 12 miles of walking. And blistered toes. Because, me, being vain, worn dumb shoes. Well, not dumb shoes. Super cute Danskos. But dumb for going for that kind of walk. :)
Then next morning we got up to run. And the running felt great! Until about a mile-ish in and my left foot hurts on the top. So we debated continuing to run. Trying to decide if it was worth continuing and potentially injuring myself or if it was something that would just work it self out. Ultimately we opted to walk...so walked about 9 miles.
I am telling myself this is good. Listening to my body. Working together with Jen as my team mate. Walking is crucial to an Ironman at our level so to be able to sustain walking long distances is a must. So it is all good. The super added bonus was hours to spend just being with Jen and talking and catching up. That my friends, is priceless!
Yesterday was spin day for both of us. We don't like this teacher and both felt kind of bored with it. I think we are both tired. Jen bricked after. I thought about swimming but didn't. Instead went and got milk and cereal for us for dinner. Yummy!
Today I again couldn't get up to swim. While I feel ok about this decision....I MUST not make it a habit. It is a slippery slope to "I can't work out, I'm tired"...when really, the whole point of ironman training is working out, being tired, building up the stamina and mental toughness one will need to carry them through the day and into the night.
I need to reinstitute the 9pm bedtime. I had to do that last time and it helped.
So I am lacking workouts and only wanting to eat desserts of any kind. That is a problem. It'll turn around though I know!
Then next morning we got up to run. And the running felt great! Until about a mile-ish in and my left foot hurts on the top. So we debated continuing to run. Trying to decide if it was worth continuing and potentially injuring myself or if it was something that would just work it self out. Ultimately we opted to walk...so walked about 9 miles.
I am telling myself this is good. Listening to my body. Working together with Jen as my team mate. Walking is crucial to an Ironman at our level so to be able to sustain walking long distances is a must. So it is all good. The super added bonus was hours to spend just being with Jen and talking and catching up. That my friends, is priceless!
Yesterday was spin day for both of us. We don't like this teacher and both felt kind of bored with it. I think we are both tired. Jen bricked after. I thought about swimming but didn't. Instead went and got milk and cereal for us for dinner. Yummy!
Today I again couldn't get up to swim. While I feel ok about this decision....I MUST not make it a habit. It is a slippery slope to "I can't work out, I'm tired"...when really, the whole point of ironman training is working out, being tired, building up the stamina and mental toughness one will need to carry them through the day and into the night.
I need to reinstitute the 9pm bedtime. I had to do that last time and it helped.
So I am lacking workouts and only wanting to eat desserts of any kind. That is a problem. It'll turn around though I know!
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