Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Um, yeah, Gunnar has turned the house upside down. Here we are blogging together and then taking a nap, all that typing is hard work. Thank gawd it was a recovery week or I might have freaked out. I’m freaking out just a little that I have a puppy that can’t hold his pee more than 2.5 hours yet and I have 9000 swim/120mi bike/30 mi run and some other stuff like work to fit in this week. I am getting accustomed to getting up but now I know why mothers eat their young. Sheesh! He’s lucky he’s so dang cute.
Group Rides, love em or hate em?
It’s a mixed bag for me. I am very wary of unknown riders – basically, I don’t trust most people on a bike so I keep my distance, won’t draft or just generally like to give space. I showed up at a Saturday morning group ride to discover a testosterone festival, save for one sweet girl who introduced herself with the caveat – I hope I can keep up, I don’t know my way around here and I just got my bike. Yes, ladies and gents, her bike had a kickstand on it. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be able to keep up the pace. I was certain these men were going to out do one another in their – who has the biggest penis contest…and I’m going to prove it by riding my bike real fast. Besides the kickstand, she was as sweet as could be and was just happy to have another girl around. It’s hard, I know we all have to start somewhere. I just started out alone or in very small groups before I would even dare bite of this little number. Hell, I was dropped like a bad habit within 8 miles. Oh well, maybe I’ll make it 10 next time. Yeah, I probably won’t be going back either. It’s all good. Everyone needs to get THEIR workouts in. I totally understand it. …and me going redline for 50 miles isn’t going to set me up for this first hell week. Good Gawd help me…
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
So, sorry, it’s a Lifethings kind of post… Tri peeps looking for killer tips and even better stories may need to tune in another day.
#1 I’m sorry for my lack of posts and serious lack of comments.
#2 I am sleep deprived.
#3 I present to you…Gunnar and Magnus, of course, in Who’s your Daddy!?
Magnus is like a new poppa. Loves the little guy but isn’t afraid to kick his ass when he wants to nip at his ding ding like it’s a nipple. Yeah, Gunnar got the picture in a hurry.
I know I’m biased but seriously, how cute is this?
My schedule is all kinds of jacked up and I barely know my name. The little guy is little and needs to go out every two hours. Oh yes, EVERY…TWO…HOURS. Last nite I saw, 1:30, 3:30 and got up at 5:30. I’m a lite sleeper and he cries when he’s gotta pee. Scoop him up, stumble down some steps, and hit the grass with flashlite in hand. I have to ensure he goes, ya know.
Actually, the other nite, I forgot to put my glasses on. I heard him cry, grabbed jacket, grabbed puppy, grabbed flashlite and went outside. I don’t know what the hell happened – I’m blind as hell but I think he paused to squirt.
I can NOT wait for 4 hours at a stretch. C’mon bladder size, please grow quickly!
In workout news…
Last week was my week to dial IT up – two swims, four bikes, four runs and a couple of strength sessions. Scheduling was a challenge but I’ve learned not to look TOO far ahead. One thing at a time, one week at a time. We had a GREAT early morning long run on Wednesday where we wet our pants when we saw a herd of eyeballs looking at us. Yes, I know, I know, logic did kick in, just some deer. I was really hoping for a wild dingo or something but nothing exciting.
At Masters a couple of people said – you’ve lost weight. Now, my weight hasn’t changed in years +/- 5lbs on vs. off season. Maybe they haven’t seen me in that long or maybe my junk just moved around, who knows, but I’ll take that ANY day of the week.
I solemnly promise to catch up with all y’all this weekend! Pinky swear.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
I know most of you ARE dirty, dirty minded at least or you wouldn’t be HERE. Hey, it’s funny, it might be juvenile at times but it’s funny. Anyway, as I get up at crack ass of dawn to get in my run before work, I catch myself in the mirror and NO I will NOT post a photo -
Hair sticking straight up from last nites slumber.
Hair not washed.
Teeth not brushed…and now drinking coffee.
Then, post coffee moment.
AND only then will I go out to get my morning run in…(solo, I DO brush my teeth for others) looking, feeling and smelling this way.
I have also been known to reuse a favorite pair of dirty tights on a cold day. You know the one’s, the one’s ‘they’ tell you never to wear for fear of raging infection. The one’s that are sitting at the bottom of the workout sweat pile that are good and ripe. BUT they are your favorites and nothing else is clean…
So, I need to run, dirty pair of tights, stinky breath and all. I figure it’s a way of keeping predators at bay. There’s a little cloud around me, like Pig Pen from Peanuts.
Are you dirty?
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
First things first – I didn’t talk about it much recently because I was actually VERY nervous about my season opening race. I have not done a solo run race in a while and I started to freak out. I have been doing my long runs, my speed work but I’ve also been a little worn out from swimming and riding. I think this just contributed to my anxiousness. I wanted a PR but I just didn’t feel like I was PR ready. Instead, I just didn’t mention it but now that it’s over….we can talk…
Saturday was the Tom King Half Marathon in Nashville. As a local race, it is a great one. It is the flattest you’re going to get in these parts. The race organization is excellent, at least in my experience. Negatives, the weather usually sucks and this did not disappoint AND the scenery isn’t great. It’s a low key event with a GREAT after race atmosphere and buffet. Full on breakfast buffet action. Totally rocks. Anyway, the race.
Start, cold damp, and I’m nervous as hell. I seriously felt like I was going to barf. WTF?! I know I can do this it was just a matter of how fast. I want a PR but am I PR ready, I want 1:45 but am I 1:45 ready? I knew going in that 1:45 was going to be a real stretch for me right now. So, I settled on 1:47:XX as my PR goal in my mind. It was a PR by a minute or so and now was the time for baby steps.
I was hanging with my peoples before the gun went off, some nervous chatter, nervous pooping and random butt rubbing. My left cheek was already sore and I found myself just standing there, talking to people, rubbing my arse. Oh well, thankfully, they know me well enough not to care. One thing I will never understand, people shoving food down their pie hole right before the start, gels, bars, bananas. If I ate that much five minutes before race time, I’d barf. Guess someone told them to be fueled up. Anyway, we moved our way to the starting line – gun shot – scalded cat, I was off…
Mile 1 – 7:51 – too fast
Mile 2 – 7:51 – maybe not, I feel like I could do this all day. This IS a stupid thought.
Mile 3 – 7:53 – mmm, 1:45???
Mile 4 – 7:56 – maybe I can pull this off. I think this is about when my sandbagger friends, Will and Kathy blew by me like I was standing still. I’m not sure Will can prove it, though. A faulty chip….
Mile 5 – 8:08 – I better have some water. There goes Coach flying by on his way back ‘home.’ I know I yelled or grunted at him at least but he pretty much gets tunnel vision. I know he didn’t hear me.
Mile 6 – 8:00- if I just make it to mile 8, I’m home free. Why did I think this? That’s still quite a ways to go. Around this point, there’s a turn around so I get to see my peeps.
Mile 7 – 8:05 – It’s OK, it’s OK, you’re just settled in now.
Mile 8 – 8:09 – Crap this hurts, I don’t like to run this hard. If I make it to mile 10, I’m home free. Why did I think this again? That still leaves a 5K!
Mile 9 – 8:13 – Wheels are coming off, wheels are coming off. Shit, shit, shit, this hurts, I hurt, I don’t want to run any more.
Mile 10 – 8:24 - I’m at 10, yay, double digits. My junk hurts, my legs hurt, my muscles hurt. This has been hard work. Maybe I should drink something (foreshadowing).
Mile 11 – 8:30 - Holy shit, I should have drank more. My foot is crammmping, my right foot is going to give. Mind over matter, relax the muscles, relax the muscles.
Mile 12 – 8:32 - OK, drinking more now is not going to help my situation much. Foot, ow, ow, ow. Now I have tunnel vision.
Mile 13 – 8:13 - Hells yes, hells yes, I can see the finish line, I can make it around this damn stadium. The faster I go, the faster I’ll be done, the faster I go, the faster I’ll be done.
Mile .1 – 1:03 - OMG, OMG, I hurt, I hurt, I hurt. Wait, does my watch say 1:46:54? Clock, clock, it says 1:47something. Holy crap, holy crap, maybe, just maybe I hit my watch at the right time. (I did!) OMG, huh, huh, huh, I’m so glad that is over. Now, where’s the food?
Yep, I was thrilled with the outcome. Draw your own conclusions on my race plan and strategy. I thought about throwing in the towel more than once. Do NOT give in, Do NOT give up, even when you think the wheels are coming off.
Stay tuned…tomorrow….puppy fever!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
First, here’s how it went down…
Plan A – 60 mile bike ride
Plan B – 90 minute trainer ride/core/strength circuit at home (due to forecast)
Plan C – HOLY crap, it’s sunny out and no rain, no rain, no rain, where are my shoes, where’s my helmet, huurrrrry, go, go, go, get out the door.
I opted for Plan C. Plan A wasn’t going to happen, not enough time today AND the wind. If I went with Plan A, it may have taken me four hours, I swear. So, I made the best of Plan C, got in a very difficult (read: windy uphill both ways) kind of ride. The kind of ride where you’re working really hard, you’re on a false flat, you look down and you see a 14. WTF?!?! 14, seriously, I can’t catch my breath and I’m going 14mph. THEN you hit a downhill and you max out at 18mph. Yeah, the wind can SUCK IT. HOWEVER, it was, hands down, better than riding inside, any day.
Random Bike Thoughts
I freak out whenever I see a Chester the Molester van drive by – the utility van with no windows. I am certain they are trolling for me.
I swear, they could bury me over there and no one would know.
When the turkey vulchers are swarming around for something good, ripe and dead, are they just waiting for me to keel over?
I really DID just need new bike shorts. These feel really nice on my bum and cooter bone. Thank gawd!
How the hell am I going to make it through Triple T? I’m scared.
I hate it when people/cyclists throw their banana peels in the shoulder. I still gotta ride through your crap – can you not give it a little distance?
How does someone lose a shoe on a main road where people are not walking? I mean, not a pair, just one shoe.
Why do I like to eat ice cream and Girl Scout Cookies OR drink beer during the Biggest Loser? I DO love to watch big people shrink. I can’t help it, it’s amazing.
What would I do if I won the lotto? I would have a man servant, that’s what I would do. Someone to have my shit done and ready at all times. Grocery shopping done, food cooked, bike cleaned and aired up….all of it.
And now it’s time to hit the track for a fun morning of…whatever coach has in store…before the hail hits!
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Monday, March 8, 2010
I knew this ride would make me cry or at least bring me close to tears. 45 miles of hill repeats. Thankfully, we finally had a decent day and could actually ride without gloves and a toboggan for Pete’s Sake! After some official coaching moments and talk of race readiness, we were off. I was feeling fine, no worries, it wasn’t going to be fast, it wasn’t going to be pretty but I knew it was doable. UNTIL the dogs came out. I swear, they always look happy but you haven’t seen me yell louder or ride faster up a hill unless I see big dogs in the road just waiting to take a bite out of my ass. I’m OK with one dog but when they summon their ‘friends’ to join in the fun, I’m gone and just hoping that Great Pyrenees didn’t get a hold of my wheel because I’m certain he could take me down and may just outweigh me.
Other than having complete discussions with every farm animal along the way (in that high I’m talking to animals voice), ME bitching about how badly my hamstrings are screaming, and a song or two – it was mostly just wheezing. Just huffing and puffing and wheezing. I thought I might die a few times. I wanted to call for a ride more than once and even considered it in the last five miles. BUT, what kind of team mate pusses out and calls their daddy to pick them up?! SO, I knew that the cars were within sight which meant SO was food. We are so happy at the end – I’m actually dying here because I’m holding my breath, must look good for picture, must look good for picture, neck out and down, don’t look like you have a waddle, no chicken waddle. Thanks to Tilghman (my Triple T Teammate and pard’ner in crime and Triswami, our coach who tried to lend me his Speedo as my ‘bandana’ for the ride. Thanks but I think this will work just fine).
After a presto-chango in a school parking lot, giving a flash to some kid getting ready for a basketball game, we were off. Poor kid, I’m surprised he didn’t run to his dad yelling – daddy my eyes are burning, that lady was neck-ED. I really wish we weren’t so uptight. You just make it more obvious that your changing your clothes by trying not to SHOW anything. I could change a whole lot faster if I could just strip down for 30 seconds rather than do a contortionist routine between some car doors….hiding nothing.
This week, it’s back to the pool to see how the shoulder holds up. I’m sure it’ll be fine, just easy and slow. BUT whenever I try to swim in a different lane, I get kicked out. I promise I won’t swim up your butt, I haven’t been in the pool in three weeks. I’ll be wheezing just like on the bike!
Friday, March 5, 2010
- Thinking about my mom, like really thinking about all the things I missed out on with her. The things I should have had - she should have been at my wedding, she should have helped me move into my house, shoulda, shoulda, shoulda. I cry when I think about the other things I have lost, what she smells like and what her voice sounds like. Her laugh, man, we did laugh...
- Staring at pictures of old Kasha girl and thinking about her swimming with me all those summers.
- Losing my dad. He's the last bit of immediate family I have, he's all I got. Just me and him, him and me, we are the end of the family line.
- The beginning of the animated movie - UP. OK, this is a kids movie and I'm sure they didn't get it but that little old guy losing his little old wife who couldn't make babies. That killed me. I know, animated.
- A bike ride after 2 hours with bad - old shorts. That can bring a tear, fo' reals.
- When I had a level 4 (?) sprain on my right ankle two years ago. I was running on New Years Eve 2008. It was my first, easy, post Ironman run and I rolled on this rock. I still have it. It was a clear day, perfectly clear. I was looking up for cars not down for rocks. I rolled, it popped, I cried, I pulled of my shoe and threw it, cried some more, ran into the middle of the street to get this daYum rock. Little Bitch.
- That ASPCA commercial with all the homeless dogs. I got to flip it.
- When I get overwhelmed by life - looking at my training schedule in the month of April, that makes me cry or it will make me cry. I'm not there yet but I will be - the kind of day that starts at 345-4am, deal with dogs and puppy (yay), get in a long run, home, shower, eat, work all day, swim, home, kiss husband, kiss a dog and go to bed. It's those kinds of days that make me cry. Pure exhaustion.
- I can laugh so hard that I cry. This does not happen often. I actually made someone laugh so hard at work that they cried today. That brings me joy like you can't imagine.
- Yeah, I think think that's all I got, I only got nine...I guess that's a good thing!
Thursday, March 4, 2010
First things first - this is an indoor cycling class on computrainers. Everyone's stats are posted on the wall. This particular class only had two chicks, me and another (small) girl. The Treadmill Affect - when your stats are on the wall, it DOES keep you honest, you can't dial down your spin bike with no one knowing, you can't fake 110RPMs, you can't fake power. Just like when you're on a treadmill and you walk into something that's not your 'regular people' everyone is sizing the other up. Well, this is just pointless since it's just me and another girl across the room. All the guys (on my side, about 4) are well into 250s threshold, one beast was 365, I think. There is NO sense in even trying to 'hold on' to these guys during this ride. They ARE stronger, just a fact at this point, his calves were enormous! Anyway, some guy, didn't seem to like the fact that I was 'beating him.' He dialed down his threshold to match mine and then below mine to ensure that he could beat me. Who knows, maybe he WAS having a bad day, we all do. It was just funny to me. I wanted to say, be proud, you beat a girl, but I didn't.
THEN, there's Too Cool For School riding on the end. OK, yes, he was cute, yes, he was fast, BUT HE WORE HIS SUNGLASSES AT AN INDOOR CYCLING CLASS AT NITE. NO he's not visually impaired, I checked. Maybe he has pink eye, maybe his eyes are hideous making him not so cute after all? Regardless, really, sunglasses? Um, yeah, you get the Captain Douchebag Award for the week.
With 10 minutes left, I had to turn my threshold down too, my legs were crushed and I didn't even care about my pride. I just wanted to be able to finish the workout. As my legs wobbled and I gathered my gear - I remembered I had a 3 mile running TT in the morning. Yeah, uh, NO way. Thankfully, coach agreed. No sense in falling over for a 3 mile TT at 5am and 22 degrees, thank you very much. This can wait for another day.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Monday, March 1, 2010
Recovery week was just that - full of recovery and good times. I feel rested and ready to go. It's funny, I feel like my body is so accustomed to this cycle - three weeks on, one week recovery - that I could tell you it was 'time' even without a calendar. I'm like that with my taper too. I know when it's time. The time to taper, for me, is when I start breaking down into tears and don't care if I never race again. It's when I'm spent physically and emotionally. When I start crying, my coach knows it's time for me to taper. It's not just a a tired, worn out cry either, it's a - I'm DONE with it cry.
And in dog news...it looks like...Roland will be here around Easter. If everything goes as planned during our visit in two weeks, the little guy will come home with us around Easter/Wedding Anniversary. We think 'Grandma' would approve...