Walk of Pain ( I mean, shame)

I'm done.
I HATE triathlons!
I'm out.
When does the "fun" start?
I quit.

That was my thought process on Sunday as I miserably and painfully trudged through the 13.1 mile "run" portion of the South Carolina Half Iron man. My worst ever run a reality.

I texted Ryan after finishing: Horrible-worst race of my life. Never again!


But now with a few days distance-- but mostly because I can now walk without shooting pain from my feet and think I have not suffered permanent injury-- I can talk about the race in a better light.

Make no mistake.

I am utterly devastated by my performance. I absolutely want a do-over but sadly that isn't going to happen anytime soon because as soon as my feet are better I am going to dive head first into marathon training and pray and keep my fingers crossed that I get to have good race sometime this fall.

My silver lining is that you gotta have a bad race to really appreciate the great ones. Right?

And me? In retrospect. I think I've had more good races than bad. I just don't race enough so when that bad one comes along it is a bit harder to mentally get over it.

And if I don't have a good race then I am done racing. Maybe it just isn't something I do well and while not always the brightest Crayola in the pack I am smart enough to not keep up the motions of the Sisyphean stone.

Whatever. I so totally not smart.

Remember: Moth to a flame.

Damn me for writing this crap down. Ink is so freaking permanent and it always stains.

Okay, so here are the basics:

1.2 mile swim: 35 minutes 48 seconds. 1:40 per 100yds
T1: 2:26
56 mile bike: 3:07:43 17.9 mph
T2: 2:20
13.1 mile run: 2:22
Final time: 6:10:14

As the physical pain from the race fades I am able to get back to the fact that until the run I was having a PREFECT race. And yes, I knew it during the race too. And I was VERY, very happy about it.
This was only my second triathlon ever. My first a women's only sprint over a year ago.

But oh boy.The run. Did it ever disappoint.

You know. The only part of the race that mattered to me and where I really had expectations--expectations that I trained hard for, have experience in and expected without a shadow of doubt to meet them--was so awful I don't know if I will ever be able to get past it. It was by far, hands down the absolute worst, most painful and frustrating run of my entire life. The experience has left me seriously questioning my abilities as a runner. And because of that I am having a hard time getting past my disappointment. I am just embarrassed and sad about it.

Having said that I will now move on to bore you to tears with all the tiny details of a "race report." Read on, or move on to another blog where the blogger is a successful and happy triathlete. Me? I'm bitter and bitchy and a total Debbie Downer.


The weekend began Saturday where I completely lost my shit because one of my tires was flat.
Yes.
The one that I changed.
I insisted on having new tubes put on both wheels. I wanted to take it to a "professional" but Ryan took offense and insisted he could do it. You would have thought I told him he didn't have a penis or asked him to hand over his man card the way he was so adamant about him changing it. I wondered out loud if it was going to bother him that it would be his name that I cursed out loud on the course if I got a flat and he said he wouldn't mind a single bit since he wouldn't be there to hear it.

After new tubes and packing up Ryan and the kids dropped me at Steph and Doug's. Ryan warned Doug about how awesome I am on a car ride and told him to not let me have any water. We made the 3+ hour boring ride to Greenwood, SC and as it was Steph who had to pee first so we didn't have to stop because of me. Just saying.

Upon arriving in Greenwood we went first to packet pick up. I was really sad to be given a purple swim cap. I really think purple is just such an unfortunate color but what can you do--all the girls were purple (well except the really fast ones. Must work on being really fast so I will not have to don the purple. Lots of work to do.).

We scoped out the transition area and the swim.
Steph and I poked our toes in the water.
It felt about 80 degrees to me but magically by that evening the water cooled to 73 degrees to make it wetsuit legal. Didn't matter for me since I had no wetsuit.

Then we went to check out the transition area and figure out where our racks would be. I was smack in the middle. Doug and Steph were near the swim finish. Steph was just happy to be near the johnny on the spots.

I practiced running from the swim finish to my bike rack and then to the bike/run start from my rack. I really think that made a HUGE difference in my transition performance. Not. Though I did not have any problem remembering where my bike was--it being one of the onlies without aerobars and all.


After Steph made Doug drive the run course so she could know where all the johnny on the spots were we went straight to Outback Steak's for dinner. Steak and sweet potatoes and, of course, beer.


After dinner we checked into our hotel. The Clarion. Clean. Nice and not so quiet. I was very aware of what everyone was doing all nice. Apparently everyone else needed to get and pee a million times too.

I got in bed at 8 pm and read but I don't think I really fell asleep until after 9 and then, of course, I woke up and pee'd every hour until 4 am when I got up to get dressed.

I forced down a whole wheat bagel with some peanut butter and ate a small bowl of dry Uncle Sam's cereal. Then I drank lots of water and a cup of coffee. After stretching for a bit it was time to go. I met Steph and Doug in the lobby and we drove to race site. I took my picture in the car on the way there. See how smart I was to bring a headlamp? See how happy I look?


What an idiot.

I don't know why I thought we would be early but we weren't. At all. We got there just before 6 am (when transition opened) and had to park what seemed like a million miles away from transition. Kevin, a fellow blogger, happened to park right next to us. Be sure to check out his blog for more race pictures. I am coming in right before him on the bike.

I went to work right away setting up my transition. I was all business (read sarcasm). I was the second one there on my rack so I had the opportunity to ask the poor guy next me lots of questions. He was really nice and patiently and politely answered them. There was a girl trying to meditate near me and I saw her try to muffle a laugh a few times at some of my, I am certain, very intelligent questions.

Wow! Look how much stuff I have.
There was lots to do: body marking, getting chip, pee (a lot), and worst of all get weighed! It was awful. I weighed 8 lbs more than I had the week before when I was at the doctor for a check up. Talk about carbo loading! Needless to say I could have done without knowing that. Immediately I felt way fat in my spandex, cause, well, I was. Ugh. Reality is a beotch.
I spent the rest of the time obsessing about my fatness and trying to burn some of it off by chatting with fellow triathletes, zipping around transition and dancing to the blaring techno music.

Finally at 7:20 it was time for us to make our way to the swim. I took this picture right before walking over there. Goggles. Pretty, I know. Just wait for the next one for what I look like after I take the goggles off. . .

Walking over to the swim I thought about all the other things that might be more fun than a half iron man; backpacking for 3 days without toilet paper, toothpicks under the fingernails, a week in a Peruvian prison, a 50 mile trail run in an ice storm . . .

I got to watch everyone finish struggling into their wetsuits and counted the 20 or so of us that were braving it without one. I tried to listen to what the director was saying but I couldn't hear anything--I think I had my purple swim cap pulled too tightly over my ears. But some guy managing the swim explained the course for me and I am so glad he did because I totally would have been swimming in the wrong direction. I am sure I would have figured it out.

The first group to go was all the professionals and then I had to wait for 3 or 4 other groups to go. All us purple caps were told to get in the water. We had to walk down some stone steps and then jump off the wall into the water. Then we had to tread water for what seemed like 5 minutes. I am sure it wasn't really that long and I didn't care anyway since I was thrilled that I didn't have to touch the creepy lake bottom. Already off to a good start! I wasn't cold at all either--another bonus and I was totally ready to swim. Yay swimming.

The foghorn went and we all started swimming. I purposely reigned it in since even in the pool I have a tendency to go a little crazy on that first 100. Well before I reached the first buoy I was well in front of the main pack and definitely behind the super speedsters. I was in a nice little empty pocket by myself. After I made the turn at the first buoy I caught up with the stragglers from the wave that had gone 4 minutes before ours. I never felt particularly crowded but I definitely made an effort to avoid the swimmers doing breast stroke. Nothing like a leg jab to the flank to ruin a good swim.

After awhile I didn't see any purple caps but only bright blue and light blue and then white caps. I did see one guy with a snorkel and I had to lift my head up and make sure that is what I really saw. Yep, guy with snorkel and swim mask. I didn't know that was allowed! Gave me a good laugh and was glad there were other non hard core athletes out there too.

I picked it up in the final 500 and was elated to be done. Time had flown by and upon exiting I heard someone say "Wow! And she doesn't even have a wetsuit." I certainly wasn't the first or fastest girl by any means but I think I was probably the first purple cap girl out of the water sans wetsuit. It ain't much but after how the run went down I'll take whatever compliment I can get.

I ran to my rack and I took this picture. Brace yourself, it is a little scary.
Ahhh!!!

I put my helmet on first and then socks and bike shoes (no flying mount or dismount for me), glasses and gloves, grabbed my peanut butter crackers and ran out of transition. I waited until they told me I could get on my bike and then I was off.

And then I got passed. A lot. By everyone. Only one girl passed me in the first 5 or so miles but after the ten mile point lots of girls passed me. And then people kept right on passing me until around 45 or so miles and then at the end I did start passing people that had passed me--but not many and that was only because they slowed down. I was very even paced the whole time.

It was really, really depressing to get passed so much but there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. No one believes me but I saw 2 different people snicker at my bike. Now, I don't know for a fact they were laughing at my bike but they looked at my bike and then me and then chuckled. So I am pretty sure it was either the bike or my fatness. So I was a little sad on the bike. It was lonely. 56 miles is a long way with no one to chat with and no music. So I ate a lot of snacks for entertainment: 2 packages of peanut butter crackers, 3 gu's, HEED and water. Lots of water.

Luckily the bike was for the most part uneventful but also, unfortunately, quite boring. I kinda was holding my breath the whole time and was just saying please don't get a flat, please don't wreck over and over again. It was by far the easiest 56 mile course I have ridden as far as elevation goes. I never once had to get out of the saddle. The road itself was quite bumpy but so long as I didn't get a flat I didn't care.

The only thing that perpetually annoyed me--besides just getting passed by everyone--was having someone pass and then whip right in front of me and put me in a draft zone; thus forcing me to drop back and go slower to avoid getting a penalty. Then they would decide to eat a snack and would slow down. So of course I would pass them knowing that in a few minutes they would pass me again. Why in the world would you not wait until after your snack to pass someone? I just found it very obnoxious. Not to mention there were several times it happened when the penalty lady was going by so I had to be very vigilant and drop back. Last thing I needed was a 4 minute penalty for drafting when I was already getting my ass handed to me.

I did pick up the pace a tiny bit at the end because I was so excited to be done. I was feeling good and was eager to get off the bike and run. Not that I necessarily was dying to run but I knew that I would be that much closer to being done. Which was what I really wanted.

Here is the picture I took right before heading out for the run. I think this might be the last time I smiled all day.

I ran out transition with so much optimism. I reminded myself I could run no faster than an 8:30 pace until mile 3--as I had practiced in my mini triathlons I've done for the past 5 Fridays--and then I could continue to pick up the pace. I felt pretty good for the first quarter mile and then I hit the tiniest of uphills. My calves immediately locked up and I slowed it down to 9:30 miles. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and vowed to keep running through it. It hurt so bad! A minute later I was walking. I just absolutely cannot run when my calves are locked. I was so, so mad! But I decided I would stop to pee as I did kinda have to go. I figured that would get my heart rate down and I would feel more comfortable and could maybe better run. I knew time wise I would good.

So after a bit of the walk/run shuffle a potty appeared and I ducked in. I came out and gingerly started to run. I was into the second mile and out on the stretch of the course that was in the blazing sun. It was hot but not really all that bad. My calves were starting to relax and I tried to run and find my pace. I thought I was doing pretty good and then I looked down: 6:56. Damn it! Didn't feel like that so I reeled it in and I checked again still in the low 7's. I realized then that I wasn't feeling either of my feet. So weird. My calves started hurting and I had this crazy shooting pain in my hip. So I started walking. Everything below the waist just hurt.

By mile 3 I was ready to quit. Doug passed me at this point and I told him as much. He said "whatever" not at all believing me. I continued to struggle with my numb feet and did the run/walk shuffle. And believe me, I wasn't the only one. There were more people shuffling that actually running. And I saw so many people pass me in compression socks that I started jonesing big time for mine. I don't think they would have made a difference but at the time maybe.

In the fourth mile I stopped and took off my shoes. I wanted to check my feet. I still could not feel them at all and it was totally freaking me out. The feeling in the right was starting to come back but the left one I could not even feel my fingers touching it. Everything below the ankle on the left side was completely numb. (Right side just the toes.)It felt from the ankle down like I had a wooden block for a foot. And well, that is a little scary when you actually still have a foot there and not a wooden block.

Everyone around me, despite their apparent discomfort, were so amazingly encouraging. Keep going forward. You can do it! You look great! Keep it up! I wanted to smack them all.

What the hell is wrong with these people, I thought. Clearly they look as miserable as me, some even more so--especially the ones that I passed puking or limping worse than I was-- but they were all so much more determined. I just wanted to quit. I started trying to form a plan on how you quit.

By mile 5 my feet were still numb and Steph caught up to me. She was the biggest ball of joy you have every seen. I started to tell her all my maladies and she exchanged with me about her GI issues. I told her I was going to quit but she didn't believe me either. She left me when I stopped yet again to take off my shoe and look at my foot.

So puzzling. I could move it but not feel it. I kept trying to run but it was so awkward and uncomfortable and really made my hip and other leg hurt. I guess from the awkward stride. You really do need to feel your feet to run I think.

By the end of the 6th mile the feeling was back in both my feet and it was like little knifes were stabbing me and sending electric shocks up my leg. I have never ever, in the 6 marathons I have run, 11 half marathons, and countless 10k's and long training runs ever experienced anything like it. There were a few times it was so painful I started to cry. Then I would walk and chide myself and curse that I was having such a terrible run. I was so, so angry because I had trained so hard and so specifically to be able to run well. It was really the focus of my training. It was like having studied hard for a test and you get wrong all the material you studied and right the stuff you'd never even seen before. Really, really pissed me off.

I hated every second of the run. I so very very much wanted to quit. At every aid station I looked for medical personal but saw none. I just felt completely abandoned on the course. I kept up with the forward progression but I walked most of every single mile. I don't think managed to run at all for more than 3-5 minutes at a time. I could never get a rhythm, I couldn't divorce myself from the pain and all I could do was obsess and worry that I was doing permanent damage.

I honestly have no idea how I made it 13.1 miles but I did. I ran across the finish line and went directly to the medical tent. But they made me get on the scale first. Oh the insults never ended. Guess what? I had lost half a pound. They all seemed so proud of me. But I pointed out to them that I was swollen:my fingers looked like sausages in casings. My legs had no muscular definition and I knew my feet were badly swollen. That gained me entrance into the tent and I went straight to a cot in front of a fan and laid down.

They kept asking me what was wrong but all I could say was my feet hurt. Some very kind and brave lady took my shoes off and commented that my feet were very swollen and put ice on them for me. Ah, happiness. . .

I don't know how long I laid there but after my feet were cold and numb I put my shoes on and left the tent. I found Steph and Doug and then told anyone who would listen how that was by far the most miserable experience of my life.

And you know what? It still is. That run was just horrible. But the knots in my arches are almost completely gone and I can stand on my feet without pain. Yesterday I ran and there was some tenderness in the arches and on the outside of my foot but no numbness and today they feel pretty good. So while I am sad about my race I am very happy I made it through it without serious injury and can now move onto marathon training.

I don't know what marathon to do. My plan had been Chickamuaga as a training race and then Rocket City in mid December as my "A" race but that seems far off and quite honestly I don't know if I want to spend the money to travel and then have a bad race. I think Chickamuaga might be too soon for me to pull out a good race. So then I think about doing the Atlanta full instead of the half on Thanksgiving. But oh boy, that last 10k uphill is just setting myself up for a bad race I think. Suggestions? Just give it up???

At the very least I am officially signed up for the Silver Comet half marathon at the end of the month. I typically have a good race at the Silver Comet races so I am cautiously optimistic. . .

Lastly, congrats to all my friends that did South Carolina. I am so proud of all of you and I again apologize for being such a whiner.

Cue Music

Last night I dreamed that the half iron man took me over 9 hours to complete. 7 hours were on the bike. For 56 miles. It didn't even take me 7 hours to ride 100 miles but whatever. I am losing it. Good news is (in my dream at least) my swim and run totally rocked.

But you know, if you are finishing a half ironman in 9 hours it really doesn't matter how fast you swim or run because you just plain suck. Especially since the cut off time is 8 hours.

Sigh.

And the whole wetsuit thing admittedly has me totally freaked out. And I very very much appreciate all the people--even those who don't really know me--that have emailed me and offered to lend me their suits. Triathletes are way nice, is all I can say.

In my fit of panic yesterday, while Ryan and I were at REI getting stuff I found a wetsuit on the clearance rack in my size. It was the only wetsuit in the whole store. Knowing all that I know about wetsuits (uhm, nothing) I figured it might work. So I bought it and figured I would look online and ask around if it would work.

The opinions I got were a resounding no with some kindly optimistic "try it out and see and return it if not" suggestions.

Steph and Doug allowed me to come along and practice wetsuit fun in their neighborhood pool this morning.

You know, I am constantly finding myself in the position that I might be interrupting some some afternoon (or in this case morning) delight plans they might have.

But I guess until they blatantly tell me to get lost they are stuck with me.

I pretty much knew as soon as I had on my suit which took all of one minute and was 5 minutes after Doug had started putting on his suit and was still struggling with his--that mine wasn't going to work.

It was too easy to put on.

But that just gave me time to take pictures of them while they struggled into theirs.
Another difference I noted was that mine only took me to put on.
They needed each other to get theirs on.

See why I think I might be foiling some husband and wife plans?

Nevertheless I gamely hopped in the pool and swam a 50. I knew it wasn't going to work at all. I especially didn't like that it had water in it ( which Doug and Steph said was normal but it felt like too much). I am not certain it weighed me down so much but it definitely didn't make me feel buoyant. I felt slower. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't. But I didn't feel that I-am-wetsuit-I-am-faster-magic everyone keeps yammering on about. I could see the buoyant thing working for Doug and Steph. They floated. I had to use my arms and legs and body to, you know, get it through and on top of the water. I think that is the part they refer to as "swimming."

I stripped out of it and swam 2000 yds sans suit--wait, I did have my swim suit on. Good news is the water was much colder than any water I ever swim in and I was fine so I am a teeny tiny bit hopeful that I will be okay without a suit.

So what if I am last because I am not wearing a wetsuit.

Doug suggested I call everyone wearing one a cheater. And I thought I might even say here "kitty kitty kitty" too as well.

But the fun didn't end with the swim. So besides my swim and the trail run I did before meeting Steph and Doug I got in another cool workout today.

All I can say is please dear baby Jesus do not let me get a flat tire.

Okay, I lied. I totally have a lot more to say than that.

You bitches totally lied to me. It is not easy. It is totally worth it, not to mention faster, to drive over to Roswell bikes and pay them 12 dollars to do it.

But for your entertainment I had Ryan photograph the evidence that I learned how to change a bike tire.

Please note that there is no video. And that is because the amount of cussing and yelling that went into putting the tire and tube on the wheel would probably have my blog flagged for inappropriate material. But to my defense I only had one melt down where I came inside to consult and then cuss out while I watched this youtube video (which I had used as my guidance).

Here I am getting down to business:
Happy am I! Got wheel off. Ryan took it off for me and I made him put it back on so I could take it off all by myself.
I. Did. It!

Putting tube and tire back on the rim.
This is the beginning of where I start to lose my shit.

The kids got onto me to "keep it together". Oh, and they were running all around me while this was going on. Like clowns I tell you.
I figured it might sort of simulate race conditions to have pandemonium going on so I didn't tell them to get lost.
But boy. Was I pissed. Not easy. At all. Liars!
See this face? This is that look I give that scares the kids into acting good.
It is not a happy face.
But I got the tube and tire on the wheel and then the wheel back on my bike. I am thinking though I should take it to my friends at Roswell Bikes just to make sure I have it on right.

The real question now is if I get a flat will I have the energy to ride my bike after I change a tire?
No, probably not.
And that my friends, I am guessing, is how a 7 hour bike will go down.

Please baby Jesus do not let me get a flat tire.

So I Can Swim . . .

I went for my open water swim yesterday morning . . .

and all is good.

Getting there yesterday though I had my doubts.

It was a morning of signs-that-point-to-that-maybe-this-isn't-such-great-idea-after all.


Night before we had attended Tara's daughter's 2nd birthday party.

I know.

You are thinking: 2 year old birthday party, whatever.

Seriously.

The party was not so much for Ellie. Started at 4pm: we left at 10pm. And that is only because I was designated driver and I wanted to go to bed. Ryan and kids were a bit argumentative about--in their opinion--cutting the night early.

So I went to bed around midnight. Ugh.

I got up around 6 am. I wasn't meeting the group at Red Top Mountain Lodge until 8:30 am but I like to have time to wake up.

I left at 7:30 am and headed up hwy 92 to 75. I note, a bit unhappily, that the temperature displayed on my dash is 59 degrees. Great. I am going to be cold.

Did I mention I don't have a wetsuit?

Well, I don't.

And for the record I would really appreciate if everyone else racing at the South Carolina 70.3 next weekend would also NOT wear their wetsuits. You know. Just so it is fair.

Oh. And it would also be great if everyone else would race on an entry level road bike rather than their regular fancy tri bikes.

No??

Never hurts to ask, right . . .


So yeah, anyway . . . I figured my race in a week might very well be in the high 50's at the start so I might as well get use to it. It will be good practice, I told myself. Maybe even build character, I thought. Right? Isn't that what miserable situations do????

While driving I was checking my phone for messages and my phone died. It would power on and say "Welcome to T-mobile!" And then it would say "Goodbye!"
No, not goodbye.
No, no, no, no. . .

I have terrible luck with all electronics: Garmin, mp3 players, computers, etc but cell phones are the worst. I just don't understand it. Do not ever lend me anything. I will break it. I will try not to but apparently me and careful are archenemies.

The good news is that my phone is not broken after all.

Apparently, you have to actually plug in the phone charger for it to charge your phone. Just saying in case you didn't know that either. Der.

At any rate I didn't have my phone to drive up to meet the group for an open water swim in North Georgia. And I was by myself. Not having my phone in situations like that makes me nervous. Not that my phone has the power of Wonder Woman's bracelet or her lasso of truth but I like knowing that I can call people. You know, like 911.

So while I am fiddling with my phone I realize the exit I needed to get onto 75N from hwy 92 was closed. I obediently followed the detour-- South!!!

I wanted to go NORTH!

I kept looking at all the people going north and desperately wanted to be one of them. I hate that I'm-trapped-on-the-freeway-going-the-wrong-way feeling. Especially when it is for real.

Finally the next exit appeared (5 miles down the road) and got off and back on 75 so I could go north. Very frustrating.

After about 5 minutes I saw the sign for my exit "Glade Road Next Exit". Oh so happy am I. Almost there!



But wait. What's this? No, no, no, no. Exit Closed. Are you kidding. Why? Why does the universe not want me to swim? Why does my phone not work so I can't at least call someone ask what to do.


Detour. Again.


So I unhappily pass the Glade Road exit and get off at the next exit--about 5 miles down the road-- and go back SOUTH down 75 to the south bound Glade Road exit--which at the time I wasn't so sure it was going to be open. But it was. Thank you baby Jesus.

So I get to the lodge surprisingly on time. Happy am I to see Sarah's car and then I spot Wes as I am paying my parking fee. Relief washes over. People. I know. Yay! Rest of the group though does not show. . .

I was also happy to find that I was not cold. And the water was perfect. Could have even stood to be a little colder. I imagine that Wes and Sarah were maybe a little warm in their wetsuits.

Touching creepy lake bottom was still, well, creepy. But that was absolutely the only terrible thing about the swim. Rest was good. Well, I could have been much faster but I wasn't really trying for fast yesterday (and no worries, I wasn't). I just wanted to get an idea of what a long open water swim felt like.

At first I was confused about where we were swimming. Once I understood where and which pile of rocks I became more comfortable and stopped using Wes as my sight object. I was surprised to find, once at the rocks that we had just swam 800 meters and it had been 15 minutes. I thought I had been swimming for only 5 minutes. Cool. Time flies in open water.

I say this because 5 minutes in the pool will feel like an eternity to me. In the pool I don't even consider the distance until I am at the 1000 yd mark. In the pool that is usually 17 minutes in and even then I think: Oh sweet baby Jesus. I have to go another 1000 yds (at least) and I am so unbelievably bored. See, and that is why I was worried about the swim. I thought it was going to feel like forever. I don't even mind if it takes forever. Just so long as it doesn't feel like it. Anytime I have to consider time I have a problem. I just don't appreciate the feeling of time creeping by. I like it to fly by. Even when having fun.

Though I will say that looking up while swimming in a lake definitely lends itself to the feeling that you are not moving. After noting this sensation I started counting strokes and looked up every 20 or so just so I felt like I was making some headway. Worked much better.

Oh, and best of all I didn't have to worry about counting laps. I have such a hard time with that in the pool.


So anyway. We swam to the rock and back and then Wes and I swam to the dock and back. Sarah swam to a log or some other point in the cove while we did that.

Since there was only 3 of us we tried to stay together for the most part. So I did some back tracking a few times. Swim ahead, swim back and then ahead. It was all fine. Wes says easily the distance was 2000 meters and we swam for 45 minutes total. Since I know I can do that distance in the pool in under 35 minutes I should hope that in the race my time in the water will be a good bit less than 45 minutes but if it isn't, 45 minutes didn't feel at all like forever so I suppose it will be what it will be. But, yeah. I hope it will be faster for reasons previously stated.




I don't think I have talked about time goals specifically for this race other than to try and finish under 6 hours. And that is mostly because I just can't fathom doing anything for any longer than that.

So that is my goal: sub 6.

Geez that sounds ridiculously like forever.

Based on what I do in training I know I am capable of faster but putting it all together, well that is the mystery and most decidedly, the hard part. So yeah, I hope to be faster than 6 hours but am not optimistic about it.

If you wanted me to break it down I would say my goals are this:
under 40 minutes for the swim.
3 hours and 15 minutes for the bike.
one hour and 50 minutes for the run.
That leaves me 15 minutes for transitions, potty breaks, melt downs, fixing a flat(that I won't know how to fix), and whatever else might come my way.

Best-case-scenario-dream-race that isn't going to happen? Oh well, that would be this:
35 minute swim
3 hour bike
1:45 run <--- okay really I want to run sub 1:40 and I could if I didn't have to ride my damn bike and swim before it. But apparently in a triathlon they require you to do those things first.

But that ain't gonna happen so I'm not even considering it because I think I will be lucky just to finish in one piece.

And I promise.

I will be happy if do.

Finish in one piece that is.

So now I just have to try and get through this week on minimal workouts and not ruin myself. And that is going to be hard. Very, very hard. This great fall weather is leaving me jonesing for a 21 mile run.

Oh, and one last thing, the pictures are not from yesterday. They are from 2 weeks ago and are for Lala and those that only read my blog because they like to look at pictures. We did go to the lake yesterday but my camera was uncooperative. Again. I am not so good with electronics.

All the Pieces of the Puzzle

Are coming together.

There is one final one to put in there before I will call the picture of--for me--near perfect training done.


Still gotta do that open water swim. . .

I am a little ill about it, to be perfectly honest.

I have no doubts that I can swim the distance. I swim it regularly.
But in a pool.
And well, the race part does have me a bit nervous too.

Sure I was competitive swimmer once upon a time 25 years ago but even then I got to have my own lane-- in a pool. And sure, I clearly remember getting kicked in the face and swam over in practice but again: in a pool.

A pool where only a leg's length separated me from stopping and standing up to adjust goggles, catch my breath or whatever. Not to mention that every 25 yds (or 50meters depending if it is long or short course) a wall was forth coming. There is a bit of comfort in doing a 5k swim and knowing that every 25 yds you get to touch a solid surface.

So yesterday as I did my final self imposed mini triathlon I played out in my head all my race anxieties-- as if just thinking about them would make it all a little better.

No, not so much.

As I swam my 1600 yds back and forth, back and forth I thought about how I am still scared that I am going to crash my bike and at the very least worried that I will get a flat. Which, no, I still don't know how to change. But I can rationalize with myself that is a scenario that could happen on any given day I ride my bike. Admittedly, I have learned to set that fear on a shelf and only look at it in passing moments. I tell myself there is no reason to pull it down and play with it on race day.

And on my 5k run yesterday I was sad to find that no matter how many bricks I have done this summer it still sucks to get off the bike and run. So sure, despite the 4 long runs I have done over 21 miles, and the 5 16 mile runs and even the 2 twelve mile runs I have done at a sub 8 min mile (and one at a sub 7:30 minute mile) I am STILL anxious that my run is going to be terribly slow and is going to hurt.

But hey, at least I am use to it.

Without a doubt I know what to expect. It will absolutely be no surprise for me if my run sucks. I am certain it is going to. And I have to admit that I have sort of tried in training to make my runs suck to prepare for it: running in the hottest part of the day, long runs in 90 degree heat, running almost every long run a bit faster than I should. I am for sure banking on the misery I embraced in training to get me through the 13.1 mile run portion of the race next Sunday. And oddly enough, I find comfort in that.

But for 30 miles on my bike yesterday I thought about the swim portion of the race and-- I am not sure how I am going to get over this-- my fear of the creepy lake bottom.

I do not like to touch lake bottoms.
Totally skeeves me out.
I don't think I am going to get past this either.

I have tried consoling myself with thoughts about all times in my life I have swam in open water. And I have realized it is not at all open water that bothers me. I am actually quite comfortable in water.

I mean, after all, I grew up with a lake in my backyard. I spent most of the year swimming in that lake from age 13 until college. But when I thought about it I never ever walked into the lake and certainly never ever touched the creepy lake bottom. I either jumped off the dock or was out in the middle of lake when someone would flip the canoe or suicide boat over.

The suicide boat?

Okay, quick stroll down memory lane as this memory totally played itself out to me in my head yesterday as I riding. Funny the things that pop in your head, you know.

The suicide boat was suppose to be a homemade kayak. My uncle was making it but never finished it. I have no idea why we had it but we did. Growing up my dad and his brothers were always swapping, "borrowing" or stealing various rag tagged things from each other that they deemed valuable; like, a 1980 Landcruiser, a Boston Whaler fishing boat, a row boat, various canoes, kayaks, camping equipment, and even a cement mixer etc. Things that sometimes became a fixture-- or just an annoying joke at our house. Other times they would disappear for awhile; only to show back up in the driveway or down at the lake. Ownership of such items was untenable and was usually based on some bet or a wager or bartered form of payment.

The suicide boat was at our house for several years. It looked like a canoe but was much less stable as it was just the bottom shell part of a kayak. The sides were very low since it was missing the top cover part.

We called it the suicide boat because it always flipped over from the very slightest of movement. So if you took your chances in the suicide boat you knew you were going swimming. It also wasn't terribly bouyant so you would have swim back to the dock while trying to keep the suicide boat from sinking. Talk about honing some swim strength. Try swimming 500 yds dragging a waterlogged boat.

But even worse than the flipping and the sinking was the fact that it was made of unfinished fiberglass. So sitting in it, or even just touching it would get fiberglass in your skin. In case you have never experienced fiberglass in your skin it is very uncomfortable and itchy and I am guessing not too healthy.

You'd think we would have learned our lesson the first few times we went out on the lake in the suicide boat but no. That boat was around until Brent, Sean, Liz and I completely destroyed it.

One year it snowed. And see that is headline news here in Georgia on its own. But that year it actually stuck. There was a ton of snow--again, by Georgia standards. So the 4 of us ran down to the lake and got the suicide boat. I don't know if we drug it down the street to the dam or rowed from my dock to the dam but I am guessing that we drug it not wanting to fall in the lake in January. Which, while not completely unheard of in our group, I am sure --well almost sure--that falling in the lake on a snow day is something we would have avoided. I think.

Anyway, the street I lived on was flat. And while the houses on the street sat a top a hill that slopped down the lake; the hill was densely wooded. The only clear hill on the road was the back side of the dam. It was a steep embankment that bottomed out at the foot of a waterfall. A waterfall that was also great fun to play in and yes, we did entertain sliding down the waterfall in the boat but decided against it since it was quite treacherous.

The four of us hopped in the suicide boat and shot down the back side of the damn. The suicide boat went air born and we jumped over the low fence into the creek bed. The suicide boat broke into two pieces upon impact. And we sat in the creek wet and laughing our asses off. It was even better we now because we had two pieces of boat and spent the entire day sliding down the dam into the creek. After awhile my dad showed up--and I was a little worried that we were going to be in big trouble for breaking the suicide boat he seemed not to care. Instead he hooked the larger piece of the boat up to his Bronco and drug us up and down the road.

No. We were not wearing helmets.

That was such a fun day.

And what, by tale you may ask is the point.
Sorry. I don't think I have one.

It is just a tangent that I wanted to set down before it was completely lost in the recesses of my mind.

Or perhaps this memory, and not my missing open water swim, is the final puzzle piece. A piece that revealed itself in memory to remind me that there was a time in my life that I did risky things with abandon and had a freaking fabulous time doing them.

Maybe it is the piece of the puzzle telling me that I have been taking myself and my training too seriously and I need to remember that this is suppose to be fun.

Hmmm, something to definitely ponder tomorrow during my open water swim.

Dinner a la Taper

Sure sign that I am in the throes of the ugliness that is a taper is a dinner menu such as this:

Pulled BBQ Pork Tenderloin Sandwiches (slow simmered all day long, so, so good)

Roasted Sweet Potatoes (with butter, cinnamon and maple syrup)

Homemade Mac n Cheese Florentine (read lots of butter and cheese and oh, yeah, a little spinach)

Magic Hat number 9

I think I gained weight just preparing this meal. And I don't think the calories I burned from my 6 mile run and 2200 yd swim can even touch it. Things are not going to be looking pretty at the start line of the S.C half iron man. And by things I mean my bulging gut and big fat ass.

What Time is it? (for superflous use of italics apparently)

It is taper time!

Yeah, I can't believe that I am actually looking forward to it either. But I am so done with 4+ hour workouts and 14+ hour weeks that I think a 9 hour week is going to be a vacation. I don't even care if I get fat.

Okay, that isn't true. I don't want to get fat. . .

Kneels, crosses self like Steph would do cause she is Catholic and says prayer: Please baby Jesus don't let me get fat. . .

SO!

I only need to find 10% more and, well, a coaster . . .
But more importantly, I need more beer. . . Hang on.

Okay, all better.

Anyway, I think I can do it, but ask me if I wanna first.

Noooooooooo.

Definitely not.

But, mostly I want to know who in the hell thought up that running 13.1 miles after cycling 56 miles was a good idea? And why do all these other nut jobs (self included) pay (!) money to do such an event?

Oh. Never mind about the whack job that thought a marathon after 112 miles on the bike and swimming 2.4 miles might be a good idea . I can think of no other way to ruin a marathon than by cycling for 112 miles before it. Totally flies in the face of good sense.

But, you know, hats of to those that get their rocks off that way. I'm just here to tell you that doing that thing, you know riding your bike for a several hours before running, totally ruins the running part.

Just to be clear.

I think riding your bike is tres fun. I even think riding your bike for 100 miles is tres fun. But then running afterwards? Yeah, no. Not so much fun. And me? I think running marathons IS fun. But no. Not after riding a bike. Definitely not then.

What?

Oh, the swim?

Yeah, whatever. The swim is fine. Well . .. No. Wait. I've gotta complaint about that too.

It totally sucks to ride your bike all wet! It is just awful! See, if I were the one who thought up triathlon it would have gone like this: run (that's the best part but only if you do it first), then go ride your bike, then swim. Cause a swim after you are all hot and dirty and it is hot as crap outside? Now that sounds down right nice. Totally makes sense. You know. It would be like a bath. Who takes a bath and then goes and gets all dirty and sweaty running and riding their bike?

Right right right right.

Okay. Yes. I have been known to shower before races, swim meets and bike rides etc. Whatever. I like to be clean. It is called hygiene. Ever heard of if? It is cool. And I pass by some people who should definitely try it out. We need to get the word out now on this. Forget going green. Go Clean! Can we get that on the political ballot? McCain? Obama? Who cares! Vote for being clean!

Sorry. My soap box.

Anyway. Swimming . . .I mean, anyone who has ever been on swim team can attest to how much morning practices suuuuuuuck. How you hide under your towel and pray that the water won't be ridiculously cold and terrible. . . You know after you spent an hour fixing your hair. . .

Why the bitching and moaning?
Eh.
I did my mega workout (term borrowed from Reger. Not sure if it is trademarked or not). And can I tell you that while I was doing said mega workout I was totally sad that I have a WHOLE month to freak out about having to do it for even longer! Uhhhhhhh. It is going to be so much harder! Kill me know. I seriously almost started crying on my run. And I am not a crier. Well, unless really pissed off and, I was kinda pissed off--- but I was more sad because this was so much harder than I thought it would be.

And!

I'm disappointed.

I should have gone a little longer on the run. But my run sucked (!) so hard that I could barely do what I set out to run.

So here it is:

1.1 mile swim: Completely and totally lovely. I wanted to make out with the chlorine I loved swimming so much today. Came in at 33 minutes for an average of 1:39/100yd. Nothing spectacular but it was easy peasy.

52.14 miles in 3 hours and 6 minutes. Bike was good. Fun even.

9.83 in 1 hour and 23 minutes. An excruciating 9.83 miles. I had to stop at Lala's around 6 miles for more water and coke because I was about to spontaneously combust because I was so freaking unbelievably hot. I will seriously die if it is that hot at South Carolina Half . I, might, even quit. I can totally see myself ducking off the course to go find air conditioning and hiding in there for awhile. I swear it felt like it was 100 degrees on my run. I was a little let down to find it was only 87. I've run in 87 degrees before but today felt way hotter. It was terrible. Feel sad for me on your cold insides.


Beer is making it all better. So is talking about it. Sorry if it was boring. Wes. Pookie. Colby. Deal.

Experiments with Water that Matter

The other day, as the kids and I walked home from school in the rain, Carmella told me she learned about the 3 states of matter in science.

Shakespearian aside: Yes, I am the mean mom who makes her kids walk home from school in the rain. It was only a light drizzly rain and it just kills me to waste time and gas to drive the half mile to the school to sit in the carpool lane. Besides, what kid doesn't like playing in the rain? And Beau and Carmella? Cute as all get out but definitely not made of sugar. So them melting wasn't an issue.

I asked Carmella "So my little genius, what are the 3 states of matter?

Solid, liquid, and gas. Carmella recited with her usual know it all perfection.

Beau said. Yeah, I know that. I know science, he added for emphasis. In case there was ever any question. Beau? Already knows everything.

I said,"So. Let me guess. Did you talk about water?"

She was surprised that I guessed this. Especially since Beau and Carmella pretty much think I am an incompetent idiot but she confirmed what I suspected. And just so you can prepare yourself for what happens in second grade I am going to tell you. They reveal to the children the mystery of water: vapor, ice and swimming pools.

Swimming pools?

Well, Monday I was suppose to meet a group for an open water swim. (See how it is really all about me?) But there was a threat of storms so I didn't want to waste my time and my gas (read 40 minute drive) to potentially not get a workout in. I can always swim at the gym. Better safe than wasting a workout, I always say. So I bailed on the open water swim.

This experiment proved a complete failure.

The pool at the gym was so cloudy I couldn't see the black line. How the hell am I suppose to do flip turns if I have no idea where the wall is? Besides. It is a pool. With chemicals. Why the hell is it so murky? That is just scary. So I did pilates instead. In my book, also known as: complete waste of time. This was the first day in I don't know how long that I did not break a sweat. I was sure I was retaining water as result and I can promise you. As a girl? That is never good.

I should also add: pilates is a complete waste of time that 2 days later my abs are now sore from. How did this happen?

The experiments with water continued on Tuesday. I was further thwarted by the rain. We had tornado warnings and sirens going off and thunder and wind and lightening. I contemplated the treadmill but my heart couldn't do it. The treadmill. It just isn't my happy place. What can I say? I like to be happy when I run. That is just my thing. Others? They like to win. That isn't what motivates me. Happiness and feeling good, that motivates me. My soul is little like that.

So when the storms abated and the tornado warnings expired I headed out in the light rain. And over the course of 10 miles it would rain, then pour, then not rain and then rain again.

Whatever. I got wet. It was warm so the rain was actually nice. But see how running in the rain makes me look all glistening and pretty?

Hideous. I know.

But since I was already wet I went to the gym to try to swim. The pool was still cloudy but at least I could see the wall so it was an improvement. Nothing spectacular but 2000 yds in 35 minutes.

I would say this experiment with water was a moderate success.

Last night I got a text from Steph that she and Doug and Neal were planning to ride 50 miles today. Did I want to come? Yes, I thought, I do. But I needed/had planned to do my week's long run on Wednesday. Besides. I thought. I think it is going to rain. And I? I do not ride my bike in the rain. So I politely declined the invitation.

So I ran today. And it did rain. Not a hard rain but a very persistent and annoying rain. And I did not want to run it but I need to ride my bike this week and I've already swam twice so I had to do my long run today if I wanted to get it in. Ugh. So I made myself do it. But I negotiated it the whole way.

Optimistically I had planned to run 21 miles. I realized pretty early on that I would not be sticking to that plan. Really I only need to run a 2 hour run this week. I had just been greedy in thinking about the 21 miler. I don't need it and my achilles, which have been complaining, certainly don't need it. So I cut out the miles I usually run on the park trails because they were void of other people and mostly because I didn't want to experiment with mud.

While ran I wondered about Steph, Doug and Neal and assumed they bailed on the ride. But bail they did not. You can read about Steph's dangerous experiment with water here.

My experiment with water today was much less exciting and worked out to be quite pedestrian with a little over 16 miles at an 8:32 pace. Not fabulous but whatever. It is in the books. And I think, geez I hope, I am done playing in the rain this week.

But my little scientists are not done playing with water.
After school, Beau -- while I helped Carmella with her math homework -- did some "experiments" at the kitchen sink with a rubber band, a coke bottle and water. Lots and lots of water. I quickly found homework for Beau too.

But then while I folded laundry Carmella decided to "experiment with matter."

I heard the talk about the experiment going on downstairs and heard the freezer opening and closing. The faucet turning off and on. But, you know, I was busy. With laundry. Not paying attention to my children "experimenting with matter."

So tonight when I came downstairs and opened the freezer to get my ice packs so I could ice my Achilles this is what I found:


I really, really hope that it is only water in those Easter eggs. I did over hear my two little scientists discussing syrup. And I really, really hope they were only hypothesizing and speaking in theory only.

Packing a Diaper Bag and Getting Out of the House with a Newborn Might Be Easier.

Until I started training for triathlons-- or really that one sprint I did last year and the half iron man I am going to do-- I thought the biggest organizational challenge I had faced was getting out of the house with a newborn and 2 year old.

Inevitably something was always forgotten.Every morning was a mad dash around the house where I would change newborn diapers and outfits and put shoes on a 2 year old at least 3 times before I finally made it to the car.

Pretty much by the time Beau came a long I had figured out to just kept most essentials in my car. But even with that step taken care of getting 2 little kids out of the house and to the car was such a challenge that sometimes when I finally made it to the car and had everyone buckled in I would start crying. Tears of relief and also tears of frustration that something so seemingly simple could be so unbelievably hard.

Boy, I am glad that we are past that. But you know me. Apparently I like to make things hard in my life. Remember. I'm the person who finally got both kids out of diapers and immediately went and got a puppy.

At any rate I am not naturally the most organized of people. I am definitely not a list maker. I've tried all that but I feel like I am wasting time sitting down to make the list. Carmella though, every time I forget something, is there with her commentary of; "You know Mommy, you really should make a list. Then you won't forget stuff all the time."

7 years old and she already has the world figured out.

Carmella though, unlike me, is a list girl. She makes bazillions of list. She always has a notebook and is out there scribbling her lists. List of what they will do this week on what days. List of friends and all the people she knows. List of stuff she can do, wants to do, has done etc. Carmella is a list maker. I am not.

Though she is right. I probably should start making them. I should make them so that when I plan a big swim, bike, run training day I won't do dumb things like forget my running shoes. See the biggest challenge of training for half iron man so far (for me) isn't juggling the run, bike, or swim or the bigger training volume or avoiding injury. It is remembering all the crap that I need to run, bike, or swim.

So the kids are back in school and I hit the training hard this week. I really had a fantastic week volume wise. I wish I had the stamina and the time to train like this every week. But since I also have to do things like clean my house, do laundry, have energy to play with my kids and do the admin stuff for the business I can't train like this every week. And if tried to I think the only other activities I would get in would be eating and sleeping. Actually, maybe just sleeping.

Sunday: 43 mile bike ride with Steph, Leslie and David in Roswell. Legs were toast from the previous day's 21.5 mile run.

Monday: Celebrated kids back in school with an easy run of 5 miles on the Leita Thompson trail with Lola and then hit the pool for a 3000 yd straight swim. Nothing spectacular. 1:38 100yd avg. Hope to swim a bit faster at the HIM.


Tuesday: I tricked Neal into riding with me. I told him it would be close to 40 but it ended up being just over 57 miles. And it was hilly. We did most of the Roswell Mile High route. I think the ride is called that because it is over a mile of climbing. We also did some of the Steph and Nat easy Roswell ride. I tried to cut out one big hill but mistakenly turned down a road with an even bigger hill and Neal was like this one is worse! Oh well. We are stronger for it, right? He was great company.

After Neal and I parted ways I ran a 4 mile brick at an 8 min mile pace.

Wednesday: I planned this week to do a marathon cut back week in regards to the long run. I still wanted something longish so it had to be today. I wasn't so keen on running but I made myself suck it up. Wasn't the best but wasn't the worst and it was quite hilly: 16.6 miles at an 8:53 min mile pace. Eh.

Thursday: Easy day. No watch day. Run according to feel day. 7 miles on the Leita Thompson trail with Lola. I actually felt great. Had a really great run. Spent the rest of the day cleaning the house. Vacuuming up dog hair with the shop vac. I count that has a workout you know.

Friday: Little big day training. Suppose to be dress rehearsal, nutrition testing and figuring out my endurance. I had organized most of my stuff the night before and had plenty of time in the morning to get the rest of my crap together. I set up my little transition station on the passenger side of my car and tried to think of everything:
Goggles? Check!
Cap? Check!
Water bottles, Luna bottle, Gu, Cliff bars etc . . . Check!
Bike shoes? Check!
Favorite socks? Check!
Helmet? Check!
Gloves? Check!
Sunscreen? Check!
Glasses? Check!
Bike pump?
Id? Check!
Cell phone? Check!
Garmin? Check!
Change of clothes? Check!
Running shoes? Oops! whawhawhaaaa Game over.

I am such a bonehead.

I drove to the La Fitness near my house and swam a mile in 28 minutes. Little disappointed that my Zoot tri top has a bit of drag. Not sure what, if anything, I am going to do about that. I didn't have any chafing issues and other than the drag in the pool the outfit worked great. Sugoi tri shorts and Zoot tank, for the record. Very comfortable with great strategic pockets.

Transition was about 8 minutes.What? That's fast right?

Seriously, I had to walk from the gym pool all the way to end of the parking lot, pump up my tires and put on all my bike gear. Pretty sure I will be a lot faster in a tri. I mean, geez, at least I hope I am faster.

It was then that I realized I had forgotten my running shoes. It wasn't a huge deal. Just meant I had to drive home to get them and would have to run from there. So that kinda f'd up my bike run transition. Decided then that I would punish myself by running 3 extra miles.

I rode over to meet Doug. To my surprise he had organized my bike route. He's not controlling at all. Really. I didn't care. I was happy have one aspect of my day not to worry about. And, I was just happy to have the company. Ride was 36.3 miles at 15.8 mph. Again, I really hope I am A LOT faster in the HIM. I can only be so fast on the swim and the run. Bike kinda eats up most of the time so I need to try to work a little harder there otherwise I'll be out there for 2 days.

Doug and I parted ways and I drove home to my house. Changed into my shoes and hit the road for the run. I did not love this run. I had major GI issues and had to stop around 5 miles to use the bathroom. This is a huge problem. I NEVER have GI issues like that. I am hoping it is a fluke. I will not be happy if I have to stop during the HIM portion of the run. I will say that it was 87 degrees during the run and maybe I didn't have enough electrolytes. Or maybe it was the Cliff bar on the bike. I am thinking I will try some salt tabs and more Gu instead of a Cliff bar.

The run worked out to be 9.6 miles at an 8:38 pace. I know the South Carolina course will not be nearly as hilly as this run and hopefully it won't be as hot so I should be faster. Unless there are GI issues.

So it wasn't a perfect training day but that's okay. That is why it is called training. As I always say: better to struggle in training than in a race. I'll take everyday in training to suck if I can have a perfect race.

Saturday: 10 mile run on the Green way (read flat) trail: 7:49 avg pace. Good run. It was hot too. Amazing how just taking away either heat or hills makes a difference for me.

Week's Totals:
Run: 52 miles
Bike: 136 miles
Swim: 4,750 yds (not quite 3 miles)
190 miles for the week.

Oh, number of ice baths: Three. Funny how ice baths in the summer are so much pleasurable than in the winter.

So, I'm a logger

**Warning: Boring workout log post.**

Since I am signed up for South Carolina Half Ironman I need to get back in the habit of logging my workouts and taking things a bit more seriously.

So, yay! I have a race and I am very happy about that. Looking very forward to it. I've been feeling a bit wayward since my next marathon isn't until December (maybe November) and that was just too far away for me.

Admittedly though, I am nervous as crap about how long it is going to take me to do this half iron man. I know I said I would never say never but I am almost certain I will never do a full ironman because I just can't imagine wanting to do anything for that long. The idea of starting something at dawn and not finishing until it is dark does not appeal to me in the least. But a half seems doable. Still long, but doable. I am worried though that it is not going to be as much fun as a marathon. People keep telling me that a half iron man is much "easier" than a marathon but I have my doubts. I do like that I get to change outfits though in a triathlon. That is definitely appealing to me.


But I am worried about this half iron man because I know in a marathon that I will be done in four hours or less--even if I walk. Half Iron man? I think I am looking at 6 hours. Holy crap. Me. Do something for 6 hours. Right right right. I did that century ride and that was 6 hours. But remember. I was sitting down for that.

Sigh. I would feel much better about all this if I was faster on the bike. Really fast. Like 20+ mph fast and I can hop off and run a my regular one forty half marathon. That would be great. And then it wouldn't take 6 (or God forbid more) hours.

Sigh.

But even if I work my booty off I think the best I can hope for is 17 mph and a one fifty half marathon. And, I think that would be okay. But really. I should be realistic: 15mph and two hour half marathon. Gosh. I really hope I don't have to run for more than 2 hours. That will pretty much kill me. I'll be fine however long the bike takes because most important to me on the bike is-- as is always my main goal when I am on a bike-- not wreck and not fall. Second to that is not get a flat tire. Slow, I suppose, I can deal with. I am use to it, after all.

What? The swim? Oh well, I am working on that. I'm a decent swimmer. A guy did ask me on Sunday if I was training for the Olympics. He seemed super impressed even if he was totally creeping me out because he was just sitting in the pool doing nothing but watching me swim (at least as far as I could determine). Despite the creep factor it certainly made me feel pretty confident in my ability. But I think Dara Torres can rest easy. Her position on the team is secure. And I think I will improve some. Assuming I actually make myself get in the pool and you know, swim laps and stuff. That is always the hard part. Swimming back and forth and back and forth for an hour or more gets very boring. Sure you can try to break it all up with drills and what not but still, it is more of the same thing: back and forth, back and forth. The only excitement is the flip turn. Which, right, I know as a triathlete you are not suppose to do them but whatever: I am a marathoner and I like my flip turns. Like I said, they are my excitement in the pool.

But boy. I think swimming a mile+ in a river is going to be A LOT different than swimming 2 miles in the pool and getting to see the wall every 20 seconds. Yeah, I'll just try not to think about that when I am out in the middle of the river. But I am almost certain my first thought will be after about 20 seconds and no wall is forthcoming: What the fuck was I thinking? But those are thoughts for another day. A day say at the end of September. Say the 28th to be specific. . .

So here is my very sad log from last week:
Sunday (July 6th): Kids and Ryan and I went to the trail. Ryan and kids rode their bikes and I ran. Beau decided to hang with Ryan and so I got the best pacer ever: Carmella. She negative splitted it for me: 23: 12 for the first 3 and 21:13 for the last 3. 6 miles @ a 7:25 average pace.

Monday: Birthday run. Got pushed a bit late in the morning so it was getting hot. 80 degrees for whole run. I incorporated 5 miles at the Leita Thompson trail. It was super muggy but cooler in the woods. Run was 13 miles @ an 8:20 pace.

Tuesday: Ugh. Bit of a hangover. 4 miles at the Greenway Trail with the kids (them on the bikes me in my running shoes) 8:37 average pace. Continued to feel worse all day. Low grade fever, tummy issues, aches and horrible headache. Not a hangover after all.

Wednesday: Headache and fever persisted for most of the day. Waste of a human being. Took a Motrin and rallied for the kids. They rode their bikes around the neighborhood and I chased. We went up to the local track and I ran many laps. Forgot my Garmin but we were gone about 50 minutes so I figure easily this was 5 miles.

Thursday: Since it is summer and I only have Lala to help me out I am hard put for babysitters. Lala agreed to watch the kids so I could ride my bike (read Lala does not have Bikram Yoga on Thursdays). But since there have been afternoon storms everyday the kids and I went to the Greenway so I could get a run in. We did 8 miles at an 8:04 average mile. It should be noted that the average is time actually spent running. There are multiple breaks: Beau falls, someone needs a sip of water, someone needs to have an argument about not being first, someone needs to look at Bamboo, someone needs to look at what might be a scary bug, a turtle or a fox. So I only count the time I am running but we pretty much stop for 30-60 seconds every 2 miles. They are getting better though and not stopping as much.

Afternoon rolls around and the thunderstorms hit. I headed out once they cleared. Or so I thought. Around 6 miles it started lightening so I stopped by Steph's and waited it out. I lost about 30 minutes. I decided to just take the long way home and cut it short since the roads were very wet and I didn't want to risk getting caught out in a storm again. So I got in 15.6 miles for at blazing 15.9 mph pace.

Friday: Hit the pool. Hello pool. It has been awhile. I've been meeting with my other favorite lovers: Mr. Running Shoe and Mr. Bicycle. They are more exciting. Sorry.

And I was duly punished for my neglect:
I started out with 2 400's that I timed (45 seconds rest in between 400's):
1st 400yds : 5:52
2nd 400yds: 5:45

Next I timed some 100's with 30 seconds rest in between.
1st 100yd: 1:22
2nd: 100 yd: 1:25
3rd 100 yd: 1:24
4th 100 yd: 1:27
Mess up 50: :42--my cap kept coming off.
5th 100yd: 1:29

My cap kept riding up and it was driving me crazy. So I bailed on the "speedwork".

Closed with a 2000 yd steady swim. I timed the last 400 and it was 7:18. Didn't think to time the whole set so I have to assume that was somewhere on the slow end of the average. Total 3350yds in an hour.

Saturday: Again with no sitters and Ryan was working. Off to the Greenway so the kids can ride and I can run. 10 miles for an average 8:13 pace. Again with all the stops but I needed them today. It was muggy and in the high 80's. Heck, it may have even been 90 since it was around lunchtime when were there. Hot, hot, hot.

Total:
Run: 46 miles
Bike: 15 miles (hangs head in shame. Kids rode more than I did last week.)
Swim: 2 miles

Run is good but the bike and swim are not.

And this week is off to a better start:
Sunday: Rain, rain and more rain. So swim.
200 yd w/up
450yd: 6:40
45 sec rest
450 yd: 6:36
30 sec rest
100yd: 1:26
Long set: Planned 2000 yd/35 minutes.
Creepy man in pool watching me swim made me lose count during 3rd 400--about 15 minutes in.
Swam to 41:39 figure 2200-2400 yds.

Need to be better, faster.

Monday: Kids and I went to the Greenway.( seeing a pattern here? Sam has been out of town. I hate the treadmill.) Was thinking 12 miles. Carmella dropped her chain right after 2 miles (which we blazed in just over 14 minutes) so I had to walk her bike back. Sux.

Ryan came home early from work and since there was no storms I rode my bike for an hour. People on Sandy Plains rode are very very mean. Do not ride there. Even if there is a bike lane people yell nasty words at you, gun their truck engines and honk their horns at you. The result of this is that you pedal really really hard. 19.52 miles at 17.22 mph.

Hopped off bike and took kids with me on a short brick. This run was surprisingly good. I didn't even notice the heat which is a good thing. Normally it is all I can think about. Starting out was very rough (read up hill with jello legs). But when I hit that track at the school my jello legs knew not what they were doing with a 6:25 pace. Cranked it out for 2 miles and ran home for a 5k with a 7:34 average pace. First brick of the season. Pretty happy with it. Now, to add on 36 more miles to the bike and 10 more miles to the run and keep the paces and I will be all set race day.

Sam is back in town so tomorrow I get to get up at 4:30 to run and Thursday-- hopefully it works out-- and I get to ride my bike for 40 or so miles AND do a little brick after. Today? Kids and I are going running (hopefully 12 miles) and then swim in the evening. Evil Aquafit is at 6 so I have to try really hard to get to the gym at 4:30 otherwise no swim.

Boy. I have lots of work to do before I am ready for the triathlon.