While en route to the Haney to Harrison Relay last Friday, I was in a car accident. The first in 20 years, to be exact. When you respond to someone else's accidents for a living, it's easy to disassociate yourself from what's gone on; you assess the situation, determine safety and begin doing what is necessary to help. When you're actually "in" an accident it's a whole other story. I felt as though I was a bit on "auto-pilot", but was able to call the guys at work (as well as RCMP and BCAS) for help. It was such a relief to see them arrive.
I was OK, though had some low back pain, of which I got looked at that evening by a Doctor. I was told to take some time off work and go for some physiotherapy. As the dust settled, or even in amidst the dust, I was scared to acknowledge that training, work and life as I knew it could possibly be compromised. In reality, I got off extremely fortunately...for this, I am ETERNALLY grateful. What "could have been" was an unsettling prospect, and, sadly, possibly a reality for one of the persons involved.
So, here I was...time "off" work/play, and a bit worse for wear. I have a great physio and chiropractor who have got me back to functional again. It's a slow process, they tell me, but are very encouraging in resuming "normal" daily activities...yahoo! I am grateful for being fit and strong, but it's funny how everything can change in the blink of an eye.
I'm happy to say that it's been nice having time off...time spent with friends and family, eating good food and yes, even drinking some wine (...insert "gasp" here...)! But...with Doctor's note firmly in hand, I went back to work 6 days post accident and am feeling good. I spun with the girls this past Friday and it felt great. I had a little swim tonight, which also felt great...it's good to be back.
Oh, and for the record...ALWAYS wear seat belts...they save lives!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
A run through the park...
After Grand Coulee, I felt I needed to focus on the area of my race that needed the most work; the RUN. Ugg! This was a bitter-sweet task, in that, I've always liked to run, but have never had any formal training and knew that this was going to be quite a challenge. I mean, come on, how hard is running? Well, as I am beginning to see, it's a hell of a lot of work, but something that's coming together quite nicely.
If I had to describe my running style I'd say I was a "plodder"... a function of too many years playing basketball, I guess. Running was always something you did to get to the other side of the court...I never really thought about how I accomplished it. And I was never told "how" to do it faster or better. So, after many years of staying within my comfort zone I decide to show up to a track workout and set foot outside the "zone" and see what changes could occur. I joined up with Andrew, Ginny and the BPR crew to see what I could learn. I'll admit, I was a bit daunted to be running with such accomplished athletes, but what I was shown has open my eyes to what I think is the start of a new love affair with running.
Andrew and Ginny set to task in providing a few very useful suggestions that have resulted in a more efficient stride, a greater sense of body awareness and speed! Holy crap...these legs are pretty speedy!
This past Sunday was the Rats X-Country Run in Kal Park. I did it last year and I think my time was just over an hour...1:03 and change, I think. This year, after a bit of training and some serious determination on my part, I finished in 53:28 and left it all out there on the trails. Man, did that feel good!
I can sense a new confidence growing with running. I have a good base built over this past year and am now combining it with some functional awareness that I can feel working. I look forward to more improvements, big and small, that can enable me to complete the run at IMC with grace and confidence.
For now, I'm pretty happy with Sunday's run and relishing in bettering my time from last year...
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Ain't technology FUN?
I bought a new camera the other day...and have a funny feeling it will become a pretty valuable training tool. It's shock proof, dust proof, and best of all...waterproof! I took it to Master's this morning and got a bit of fun footage!
And last but not least...Ally in her Nemo Swim Cap...I wear it for motivation!
Randy...all smiles after a hard day!
And last but not least...Ally in her Nemo Swim Cap...I wear it for motivation!
Victoria Half Marathon October 12, 2008
I recently completed my first "Personal Best" in a running race. Having always been pretty lax when it came to race day, I wanted to see just what I could accomplish with some focus and determination. Well, I did it...1:52:11, my best time ever for a Half Marathon. This, of course, has me thinking about what I can accomplish for a Marathon time...but, that's something for a later date. I'm more concerned about IMC. And this training will help.
I had traveled to Victoria with a good friend, Erica, who was also running the Half (it was her first ever...and she did brilliantly...especially considering she had never run farther than 10kms!). The drive to the ferry was uneventful and the weather crossing was spectacular...so we had ample opportunity to gaze at some unbelievable scenery. Sadly, I didn't bring a camera, but you get the picture (....nice pun, eh?!)
It had been years since I had been to Victoria and I was amazed at how beautiful that city is. We stayed downtown at the Island Ocean Hostel (very reasonable and was blocks away from the start line...which was a total score). I was a bit dubious of staying in a Hostel, but asked when making the reservation if we could have a quieter, private room and it was great. A bit squishy for 3 adults, but you couldn't beat the price. And to have access to a kitchen really helped on the keeping the costs to a minimum.
Unfortunately, as soon as I got there I fell into the "race brain" mono-focus that befalls most competitors, I think. I wanted to get my race package and then keep my feet up. I didn't want to walk around, which was a shame because it was perfect weather for cruising the town, I wanted to be well rested and ready to race. I had come off night shift the day we drove down to Victoria, so was understandably exhausted on the first night there. We, Erica, Trish and I, found an incredible restaurant just down the street from the Hostel called The Black Olive and partook in some incredible food for our Pre-Pre-Race meal. I admit, I had a glass of incredible red wine that seemed to take the edge off the traveling and it helped to loosen me up a bit...or help me sleep, not too sure which?! Who cares...it was just what the doctor ordered and the Berry Tiramisu for desert was decadent!
Enough about food...
Race day came early and we were up and at it right on time. Erica and I had to start our race at 0730 and Trish, who was doing the Marathon started her race at 0830. A tasty bowl of porridge with fruit was comfortably consumed, a few trips to the toilet (more like 10!) and Erica and I were heading out the door to the start line.
The weather was perfect for running...not too cold, not too warm ( I brought gloves and kept them on for most of the run...poor old circulation!) and the biggest surprise was that it wasn't raining! It was truly a perfect day for this race.
As I mentioned, I went to the bathroom at least 9 or 10 times. No word of a lie! Call it pre-race jitters, girl bladder, whatever...I wanted NOTHING in my system before this race. I had run a few races in the past where peeing was an issue and I really just wanted to run without distraction. Well, as luck would have it, as I was walking to the start line, as if my bladder knew that there was no chance in hell that I could get to a toilet conveniently, I had to go...AGAIN! Well, it was at that point that I decided that if it wasn't reabsorbed I would just pee my pants...and hopefully no one would be the wiser. This stressed me out a little, but I had to keep my goal in mind. I wanted to run a sub-1:55 Half and my bladder was not going to stand in my way. Or so I told myself. :) Once I got to the start line, the line-up for the porta-potties was WAY too long; again...this stressed me out and made me want to pee more...damn! Again, I reassured myself that if I still HAD to go then I would. "BANG!" The race had begun! Crap...now I really had to pee...As I was about to cross the start line timing mat, I looked off to my right...and there they were...as if placed by Angles...porta-potties WITH NO LINE UP! I thanked God, Buddha, Allah and anyone else up there for their part in putting those little lavatories there and for having them free of people so that I could pee in peace. This race was starting off brilliantly!
Ahhh, now I could get down to business.
I had, before ducking out to pee, established myself in the correct pace group. With the little detour I had fallen back into a slower pack and it proved to be a bit worrisome regarding pace. There was at least 5,000 people in this race and I felt like I had to get in front of most of them to achieve my goal. The feeling I had was much like what a salmon must feel like swimming upstream. Ducking this way, dodging that way...I couldn't get a consistent pace and that worried me a bit. I turned my iPod up and got into my groove and just ran.
Before I knew it, I was 3 miles into it and feeling pretty good with the speed I was currently maintaining. I wasn't speaking with anyone, so couldn't gauge whether I was actually able to carry a conversation, but it felt good. I kept looking at my Garmin and was surprised at how fast I was running. I did remind myself that I had to keep some gas in the tank for the second half of the race, but I was feeling good.
I got a tap on my shoulder from some random lady at one point..."your friends said to say, HI"...I was a bit confused and turned around just in time to see Brock and Cindy waving madly! It was so nice to see friends on the route. Support is incredible!
I'm not sure whether it was the music, the weather, or the alignment of the planets...but I was having a blast! The miles just seemed to fly by and I was often surprised at the mileage markers. My Garmin confirmed that I was where the signs said I was; 3 miles, whoosh, 7 miles, whoosh, 10 miles....Holy Crap, the damn race is almost over! And I was running faster and faster and faster! It was unbelievable to me, the non-runner, at just how fast and how comfortable I felt, Don't misunderstand me, it hurt, but it was a "good" hurt.
The last 2 miles were a complete blurr! The last time I looked at my Garmin, I was at about a 7:35/mile and was FLYING! I crossed the finish line to the cheers of Lisa, Noelle, and Andrea and did so in under my goal time. 1:52:11 I was so proud! I just might become a runner, yet!
I had traveled to Victoria with a good friend, Erica, who was also running the Half (it was her first ever...and she did brilliantly...especially considering she had never run farther than 10kms!). The drive to the ferry was uneventful and the weather crossing was spectacular...so we had ample opportunity to gaze at some unbelievable scenery. Sadly, I didn't bring a camera, but you get the picture (....nice pun, eh?!)
It had been years since I had been to Victoria and I was amazed at how beautiful that city is. We stayed downtown at the Island Ocean Hostel (very reasonable and was blocks away from the start line...which was a total score). I was a bit dubious of staying in a Hostel, but asked when making the reservation if we could have a quieter, private room and it was great. A bit squishy for 3 adults, but you couldn't beat the price. And to have access to a kitchen really helped on the keeping the costs to a minimum.
Unfortunately, as soon as I got there I fell into the "race brain" mono-focus that befalls most competitors, I think. I wanted to get my race package and then keep my feet up. I didn't want to walk around, which was a shame because it was perfect weather for cruising the town, I wanted to be well rested and ready to race. I had come off night shift the day we drove down to Victoria, so was understandably exhausted on the first night there. We, Erica, Trish and I, found an incredible restaurant just down the street from the Hostel called The Black Olive and partook in some incredible food for our Pre-Pre-Race meal. I admit, I had a glass of incredible red wine that seemed to take the edge off the traveling and it helped to loosen me up a bit...or help me sleep, not too sure which?! Who cares...it was just what the doctor ordered and the Berry Tiramisu for desert was decadent!
Enough about food...
Race day came early and we were up and at it right on time. Erica and I had to start our race at 0730 and Trish, who was doing the Marathon started her race at 0830. A tasty bowl of porridge with fruit was comfortably consumed, a few trips to the toilet (more like 10!) and Erica and I were heading out the door to the start line.
The weather was perfect for running...not too cold, not too warm ( I brought gloves and kept them on for most of the run...poor old circulation!) and the biggest surprise was that it wasn't raining! It was truly a perfect day for this race.
As I mentioned, I went to the bathroom at least 9 or 10 times. No word of a lie! Call it pre-race jitters, girl bladder, whatever...I wanted NOTHING in my system before this race. I had run a few races in the past where peeing was an issue and I really just wanted to run without distraction. Well, as luck would have it, as I was walking to the start line, as if my bladder knew that there was no chance in hell that I could get to a toilet conveniently, I had to go...AGAIN! Well, it was at that point that I decided that if it wasn't reabsorbed I would just pee my pants...and hopefully no one would be the wiser. This stressed me out a little, but I had to keep my goal in mind. I wanted to run a sub-1:55 Half and my bladder was not going to stand in my way. Or so I told myself. :) Once I got to the start line, the line-up for the porta-potties was WAY too long; again...this stressed me out and made me want to pee more...damn! Again, I reassured myself that if I still HAD to go then I would. "BANG!" The race had begun! Crap...now I really had to pee...As I was about to cross the start line timing mat, I looked off to my right...and there they were...as if placed by Angles...porta-potties WITH NO LINE UP! I thanked God, Buddha, Allah and anyone else up there for their part in putting those little lavatories there and for having them free of people so that I could pee in peace. This race was starting off brilliantly!
Ahhh, now I could get down to business.
I had, before ducking out to pee, established myself in the correct pace group. With the little detour I had fallen back into a slower pack and it proved to be a bit worrisome regarding pace. There was at least 5,000 people in this race and I felt like I had to get in front of most of them to achieve my goal. The feeling I had was much like what a salmon must feel like swimming upstream. Ducking this way, dodging that way...I couldn't get a consistent pace and that worried me a bit. I turned my iPod up and got into my groove and just ran.
Before I knew it, I was 3 miles into it and feeling pretty good with the speed I was currently maintaining. I wasn't speaking with anyone, so couldn't gauge whether I was actually able to carry a conversation, but it felt good. I kept looking at my Garmin and was surprised at how fast I was running. I did remind myself that I had to keep some gas in the tank for the second half of the race, but I was feeling good.
I got a tap on my shoulder from some random lady at one point..."your friends said to say, HI"...I was a bit confused and turned around just in time to see Brock and Cindy waving madly! It was so nice to see friends on the route. Support is incredible!
I'm not sure whether it was the music, the weather, or the alignment of the planets...but I was having a blast! The miles just seemed to fly by and I was often surprised at the mileage markers. My Garmin confirmed that I was where the signs said I was; 3 miles, whoosh, 7 miles, whoosh, 10 miles....Holy Crap, the damn race is almost over! And I was running faster and faster and faster! It was unbelievable to me, the non-runner, at just how fast and how comfortable I felt, Don't misunderstand me, it hurt, but it was a "good" hurt.
The last 2 miles were a complete blurr! The last time I looked at my Garmin, I was at about a 7:35/mile and was FLYING! I crossed the finish line to the cheers of Lisa, Noelle, and Andrea and did so in under my goal time. 1:52:11 I was so proud! I just might become a runner, yet!
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Grand Coulee Half Iron
It's taken me a few days to wrap my head around this past weekend's race.
Did it have the outcome I expected?
No.
Did I learn something?
Yes.
Did I still love triathlon...you bet!
Lisa came up from Vancouver to spend a few days with me in Vernon before we headed south to Grand Coulee. It was great to spend a few days with Lisa hanging out and "prepping" for the race. As I was tapering for the race, we kept our activity pretty low key (I struggled with being over-tired before the race in Oliver in June, so I didn't want to make that mistake again). We got a few lake swims in but generally hung out...in Lisa and Ally fashion...Starbucks, movies, good food and LOTS of giggling! After 20 years, somethings never change...and I hope they never do.
We headed south on the Thursday before the race. I gave Lisa the play-by-play of all the places I had ridden this past summer (...poor girl, must have completely bored her to tears, but she puts up with me...most likely tunes me out, but whatever...). The Century Ride (from Hell...), the Oliver Bike course, the "almost Ironman" bike course, the Ironman bike course...and countless references to "this" hill or "that" hill. Can you say mono-focused? Knew ya could... I digress.
We arrived in Grand Coulee to find that the motel we were staying at was about 250 metres from the start of the race. Nice.
I'm not sure we could have planned that any better. My friend, Ryan, came out from Wenachee for the evening and had dinner with us on the patio overlooking the lake. It was good to just chill and relax into the surroundings.
I'm not sure we could have planned that any better. My friend, Ryan, came out from Wenachee for the evening and had dinner with us on the patio overlooking the lake. It was good to just chill and relax into the surroundings. On Friday we did a bit of reconnance work. We drove the Olympic bike course (which was the first part of the Half Iron course as well). It was a daunting course even from the comforts of the car. In retrospect, I'm glad that I had the opportunity to come down and pre-ride it, as you just don't get the same perspective until you're out of gears and only a few metres up the hill.
We got up onto the Mesa and it was just as I had remembered it...vast and golden. It's pretty quiet up there and it went on for miles and miles and miles.
The course has you going over the Grand Coulee Dam which was interesting. (...I'll get to that a bit later...) T2 was across the dam and had you running alongside the river which, I thought, would be a great place to run. I'm shaking my head....it was miserable...but, I get to all that shortly.
The night before the race was not unlike most pre-race nights....completely amped at 11pm, then tossing, turning, checking the alarm, watching the hours tick by, peeing at least 5 times, i was not going to get any sleep. Oh well, there's plenty of time to sleep when you're dead, right?
Race morning came quick despite the slow cadence of time during the dark hours. The Ironman athletes hit the water at 7am to near perfect conditions. There was a slight breeze, but a welcoming one considering it had been so hot the day before. Little did I realize how hot it was going to get...uggg!
The male Half Iron athletes started at 9:30, the women started at 9:35. We all got together for a pre-race photo and the encouraging words flowed freely in anticipation of the day's events. It's interesting to see everyone's little rituals; iPod inserted, stretching, eating, giggling...it was great to be with everyone.
The men started enmasse...the women were a bit more civilized...a bit of breathing room between us and lots of encouraging words as the gun sounded. We were off! I LOVED the swim. It was incredible...at no point was I tired and, as I rounded the last buoy, I was sad to know that the swim portion was almost over. All that swimming in Jade Bay amounted to that moment. Done. There was the beach...I could see the exit and it was done. I vaguely remember hearing a few people cheering my name, but every time I get out of the lake after swimming I'm a bit dizzy and we had a hell of a haul up the grassy slope to get to transition...I couldn't wave, I couldn't look up...it took all I had to drag myself up the hill to the eager volunteer that had my T1 bag.
I got into the changing tent and basically brain-farted. I can't really explain it any better than completely gapping on what I had to take off, what I had to put on, what I needed to apply and where...it was all a bit overwhelming, really. I was off in la-la land, to be honest. I just could not get my shit together. I snapped back to attention when I saw my Coach, Ginny, fly into the tent after me and fly out like she was on fire. Ok, Ally...get it together...this IS a race after-all. Get going for crying out loud!!!
I made it out of the tent and grabbed my bike and hit the road. I had neglected to squeeze a gel into my mouth before hitting the water, so I was pretty hungry by the time I got on the bike. I slurped back a gel and then popped a Cliff Shot Block into my cheek and sucked on that for a while. The first turn had us starting the climb that confirmed that I MUST invest in a larger rear cassette, or a compact crank, or SOMETHING that would keep my legs spinning a bit faster than the snails' pace I was currently maintaining. Oh well, it would be over soon enough. I fell into a reasonable cadence and was observant of my HR and just kept pedaling. I came across a dead rattle snake, yeesh, and said, out loud, "...I don't have the energy to deal with you right now"...and kept pedaling. No panic attack, no tears, no drama...I was on a mission! (....gee, does this mean that I'm making "progress" in conquering my phobia?...Lord, I hope so!)
Once on top of the Mesa, I grabbed another gel and picked up the pace. It was beautiful up there. The temperature was very comfortable and there was a slight tail wind which was a great help. One of the things I did well in this race was to nourish on the bike. I had a gel every 35-40 minutes and between gels I sucked on Shot Blocks. The only thing I would change for next time is to be more attentive to hydrating a bit better. I figured the ride would take me about 3 hours (it took 3:21) and I had 3 bottles of E-Load and I managed to drink a bit more than two. Not enough...though, I didn't figure that out until 8 miles into the run. Too late....more on that later.
So, I was really enjoying the bike ride so far...eating religiously, trying to drink, managing my HR, going silly fast where appropriate...I flew through Grand Coulee on route to the Damn. No, that wasn't a typo...I am seriously afraid of heights and had a full-on panic attack at the thought of riding across that thing. Aack. This was frustrating. Well, all alone, and about a mile from transition...I had no real choice except to keep pedaling. I mean, I rode past the snake, right...this is just a big block of concrete. Man, I could employ one therapist on a full-time basis with all this crap...I kept riding. Sobbing, mind you, but I got across. Yeeesh...
T2 was a bitter sweet place. I was pretty happy to be done biking, especially after getting off the damn dam, but a bit reluctant to start the run. I think it was mostly in my head as I knew that in the past, it was about this time that things start to fall apart. I had my water belt, which contained 2 gels ( I should have brought more; note for next time!) and a bottle of E-Load...but it was HOT. And got HOTTER! Ugg. It was miserable, to be honest. Early on, I saw Andrew (who's wise words of "stay focused" were an ominous mantra I would learn the true meaning of...) looking like a rock-star...then Mike, also looking fantastic...then there was Joel...Holy Crap...these guys make it look easy! Then Ginny...wow, what a vision...big smile...then Katherine...then Cindy....oh...it was right about then that I did the math and determined that I was going to be finishing pretty far behind my goal of a sub-6 hour time. Oh, and did I mention it was HOT? I was out of juice, the aid stations were really far apart and I was getting uncomfortable.
I'm aware that I have to work on my "mental game". This race showed me that. It's evident in the finish photo...my head is down, my body language said everything I was feeling, I felt broken crossing the line. And, when I really look back on it, WHY? I FINISHED! I did well! It was REALLY tough course and I did the best I could do on that day. That's what this sport is all about. Training really hard and giving it all on that day. There was no point (...oh, except for T1 where I seemed to be camping out...5 minutes?! Who spends 5 minutes in transition???) where I could have gone faster. I raced well. The only thing I regret is not smiling crossing the line...I failed where that was concerned. I can correct that...I will NOT be grumpy crossing anymore finish lines from now on. I PROMISE!!!
The run was super flat...and super hot! I heard Lisa cheering me on from Myra's car as I ran alongside the river. I had fallen into step with this really nice man named Brad from Omak. At first, he did all the talking...I was pretty caught up in my dark thoughts, but he drew me out. We laughed, we talked...it was great. I started gulping the flat Coke at the aid stations and found PRETZLES...yahoo! Those little gems are money! I'm eating them at IMC, for sure! And the ice was glorious...I stuffed it in my shirt, sucked on it, slurped the cold water as it melted...it was glorious. But, short lived. At long last, the finish line was coming closer. I ran under the bridge and saw Nick, the guy from New York we were staying beside in the Hotel, cheering me on, and then started up the nasty little hill to get to the finish line. We had to run around the block and then down the finishing chute. It was glorious to stop. I was happy to see Lisa and everyone else there cheering! As I said before, I promise to smile when crossing the next finish line...I guarantee it!!
It was a good race, despite my glucose-deprived thought processes during the race. :) I completed it in 6:27:48. My swim time was 32:38 (I improved over Oliver by almost 6 minutes!!! WOW!), bike time of 3:21 and a run time of, ahem, 2:26. Overall, I placed 12th in my age group and did well! I still love this sport and look forward to building on this experience for IMC.Tuesday, September 9, 2008
A few days out...
Today was the first day I wished it was race day...funny, eh? It's like Christmas...it never gets here fast enough and then, when it does arrive, it goes by too fast. Well, something tells me that I'll have plenty of time to relish in the warm fuzzies of it all grinding it out on the bike.
Ok, back to being nervous about it...damn it. I go from being super psyched to wondering if Mexican Jumping Beans do really exist and if I have mysteriously consumed an entire cans' worth just recently. How does this happen?
Lisa is here and is also getting ready for her race, too. She's got such a great outlook on this race. And, wether she knows it or not, has been instrumental in keeping my feet on the ground (or my head out of my ass...not too sure which is more appropriate at this juncture...) about it all. As she says, "...Ally, it's just a swim, and then a bike ride and then a run...you've done it before, right?". Well put, Lisa.
After tonight's sleep, it's only 2 more sleeps...and, you guessed it...the pendulum has brought me back to being excited again. :)
Ok, back to being nervous about it...damn it. I go from being super psyched to wondering if Mexican Jumping Beans do really exist and if I have mysteriously consumed an entire cans' worth just recently. How does this happen?
Lisa is here and is also getting ready for her race, too. She's got such a great outlook on this race. And, wether she knows it or not, has been instrumental in keeping my feet on the ground (or my head out of my ass...not too sure which is more appropriate at this juncture...) about it all. As she says, "...Ally, it's just a swim, and then a bike ride and then a run...you've done it before, right?". Well put, Lisa.
After tonight's sleep, it's only 2 more sleeps...and, you guessed it...the pendulum has brought me back to being excited again. :)
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
The Mental Game
It's a little over a week from the race and mentally I'm feeling like shit. I'm tired and sore from a hard last week of training and am trying not to let my head get the better of me. I remember feeling this way before Oliver and I tried to train through it...that didn't work. All I got was MORE tired. I want to go into Grand Coulee well rested, so I am starting my taper tomorrow (a few days earlier than scheduled). I feel like I'm letting myself down by not following my "plan".
I have done all the hard work and it will pay off come race day. My biggest challenge right now is to keep my spirits high and not let my fears and insecurities get the better of me. I'm not sure what it is that makes me think that I'm not good enough to compete, or don't deserve to be there...those are probably normal feelings, but ones I know in my heart to be unfounded. I have worked really hard for this race and feel the strongest I've ever felt (in comparison to Oliver). I'm ready for the race.
Part of the allure of doing these races is working on my mental toughness. Physically, I know I can do the distance; I can swim 2 kilometers with no problem, I can ride well over 90 kilometers and just yesterday I ran 18kms very comfortably...so where's the issue? The issue I face is one of self doubt and fear of not succeeding. What constitutes "not succeeding" I'm really not sure of...maybe not achieving the goals (specific times) I've set for myself? On one hand, the "rational" hand, the times are set to gauge my effort...if the times are too slow or too fast it's unrealistic. So, there has to be a happy medium somewhere; Andrew once said to "set some goals and then work your ass off to achieve them"...fair enough. Times aside, another goal will be to mitigate the unnecessary negative mental thought processes that will take way from my more important goals...LIKE FINISHING THE DAMN RACE WITH A SMILE ON MY FACE! :) (...which is going to happen regardless...)
As I sit here to finish this entry, I've just gotten off the phone with Lisa (...thank you, again, for listening...), and know that (the mental training) is going to be the bigger challenge I will face in the next year. Where in the world do you get a schedule for that, I wonder?
I have done all the hard work and it will pay off come race day. My biggest challenge right now is to keep my spirits high and not let my fears and insecurities get the better of me. I'm not sure what it is that makes me think that I'm not good enough to compete, or don't deserve to be there...those are probably normal feelings, but ones I know in my heart to be unfounded. I have worked really hard for this race and feel the strongest I've ever felt (in comparison to Oliver). I'm ready for the race.
Part of the allure of doing these races is working on my mental toughness. Physically, I know I can do the distance; I can swim 2 kilometers with no problem, I can ride well over 90 kilometers and just yesterday I ran 18kms very comfortably...so where's the issue? The issue I face is one of self doubt and fear of not succeeding. What constitutes "not succeeding" I'm really not sure of...maybe not achieving the goals (specific times) I've set for myself? On one hand, the "rational" hand, the times are set to gauge my effort...if the times are too slow or too fast it's unrealistic. So, there has to be a happy medium somewhere; Andrew once said to "set some goals and then work your ass off to achieve them"...fair enough. Times aside, another goal will be to mitigate the unnecessary negative mental thought processes that will take way from my more important goals...LIKE FINISHING THE DAMN RACE WITH A SMILE ON MY FACE! :) (...which is going to happen regardless...)
As I sit here to finish this entry, I've just gotten off the phone with Lisa (...thank you, again, for listening...), and know that (the mental training) is going to be the bigger challenge I will face in the next year. Where in the world do you get a schedule for that, I wonder?
Monday, September 1, 2008
Confirmation of Lunacy
Why is it that most of the hair-brained ideas I get start with the thought, "...gee,I wonder what that would be like?". I mean, really, it's all very well and good to sit at a computer and stare off into cyber-space and watch other people climb Everest, complete the Death Race, or walk on the moon...but what evolutionary hiccup do I have (in common) with those people that makes me think that I can do these things, too? Hmmm, I guess I'm about to find out.
I'm signed up for it...it's official. They have my money, with no refund possible...August 30, 2009 I will complete my very first Ironman.
It's right about this time that my knees get a bit weak, my stomach flips and that very palpable shiver goes down my spine at the very thought of race day next August. "Can I do this?", "Will I make it?", and the ever-popular, "How much is this gonna hurt?" occupy the majority of my cerebral real-estate at this moment. My gut instinct says, "You can't NOT do this...you'll regret that decision forever"...so here I sit. In front of my computer, $575.00 (US) poorer, slightly petrified, but SO glad that I pressed that final button to confirm my registration.
Being the social animal that I am, I'm already looking forward to training with my friends. The trips, the bricks, the other races that will get us to the IMC start line. I am soulfully embracing the challenge of learning "balance" in my life; work/training, training/life, and any other combination that life will throw my way. This is no small endeavour, that's for damn sure...I wish myself luck. :)
I'm signed up for it...it's official. They have my money, with no refund possible...August 30, 2009 I will complete my very first Ironman.
It's right about this time that my knees get a bit weak, my stomach flips and that very palpable shiver goes down my spine at the very thought of race day next August. "Can I do this?", "Will I make it?", and the ever-popular, "How much is this gonna hurt?" occupy the majority of my cerebral real-estate at this moment. My gut instinct says, "You can't NOT do this...you'll regret that decision forever"...so here I sit. In front of my computer, $575.00 (US) poorer, slightly petrified, but SO glad that I pressed that final button to confirm my registration.
Being the social animal that I am, I'm already looking forward to training with my friends. The trips, the bricks, the other races that will get us to the IMC start line. I am soulfully embracing the challenge of learning "balance" in my life; work/training, training/life, and any other combination that life will throw my way. This is no small endeavour, that's for damn sure...I wish myself luck. :)
Monday, August 25, 2008
IMC 2008
Nope, I didn't just do Ironman...don't worry. Not THAT crazy, though as that cannon signaled the start of the race...I really wanted to be there. But, that day will come, in fact, I can now circle August 30th, 2009 on my calendar. The countdown has begun...
I volunteered at the race this past weekend to get a feel for what's going to happen. Wow, it's incredible. It's mecca for triathletes. The city is bursting at the seams with triathletes; seasoned and first-timers alike, and everywhere you look you're reminded of why everyone is here. The city is electrified with all their energy and it's incredibly infectious.
I helped out in the bike lot. On Saturday it was to meet and greet the athletes. We had to rack the bikes and get them oriented as to where they'd exit the lake, pick up their swim-to-bike transition bag, get changed, pick up their bike, and start the bike portion of the race. The pros were all about business; no help required. Then there were the "newbies" with the deer-in-the-headlights look going on and you couldn't help but reassure them and tell them that it's going to be great! I got so many hugs from complete strangers thanking me for their support. It was a pleasure to be there and to get caught up in their enthusiasm.
Race day started early (6am) and back to the bike lot to check on the bikes (make sure there weren't any flats). If we find a bike that needs repairing, we let one of the techs know and they change tires, tubes and tweak anything else that the athlete needs...sometime without the athlete ever knowing. How cool is that? It was amazing to see how many people had photos of family members taped to their handlebars for motivation...made me cry just looking at it. There was so much emotion on that morning...when the cannon went off to signal the start of the race there was no holding back the tears...and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. Yahoo!
The swim was incredible! The "blender" of arms and legs and just the sheer number of 2000 bodies doing the same thing was captivating.
Once the racers started coming in it was fun to see the "strippers" wrestle people out of their suits and send them on their way to get changed into their bike clothing (if necessary)...then they grabbed their bikes and they were off! I got to see a few friends off on their bikes...and whoosh, they were gone!
When the pros started coming back it was "get the hell out of the way" time. These guys/gals mean business! I can honestly say I would never throw Lucifer like that, but then again...I'm not sponsored! :) There was a steady stream of athletes from that point on, until 17:30 when the cut-off time signaled the closing of the bike lot entrance. By the time the bike lot was closed the first pro was finished his race. Amazing to see them stride across the line looking fresh. I'd look that way too if I was paid to do that...still, it's pretty cool to see.
This is where the race really began to hit home. It was time for my friends to be finishing. It's pretty amazing to see someone you've ridden with or swam with cross the finish line. Wow...incredible! Everyone looked fantastic! What inspiration!!!
To that end, I am sitting beside my registration number that will enable me to sign up for IMC 2009. I will sign up first thing on September 1, and then it's "game on".
As cheesy as this sounds, I can already hear the announcer saying "Allyson Bower, today you ARE an Ironman" as I cross the finish line next year. It gives me goosebumps. I can't wait!
But, the focus is now back to Grand Coulee...BRING IT ON!
I volunteered at the race this past weekend to get a feel for what's going to happen. Wow, it's incredible. It's mecca for triathletes. The city is bursting at the seams with triathletes; seasoned and first-timers alike, and everywhere you look you're reminded of why everyone is here. The city is electrified with all their energy and it's incredibly infectious.
I helped out in the bike lot. On Saturday it was to meet and greet the athletes. We had to rack the bikes and get them oriented as to where they'd exit the lake, pick up their swim-to-bike transition bag, get changed, pick up their bike, and start the bike portion of the race. The pros were all about business; no help required. Then there were the "newbies" with the deer-in-the-headlights look going on and you couldn't help but reassure them and tell them that it's going to be great! I got so many hugs from complete strangers thanking me for their support. It was a pleasure to be there and to get caught up in their enthusiasm.
Race day started early (6am) and back to the bike lot to check on the bikes (make sure there weren't any flats). If we find a bike that needs repairing, we let one of the techs know and they change tires, tubes and tweak anything else that the athlete needs...sometime without the athlete ever knowing. How cool is that? It was amazing to see how many people had photos of family members taped to their handlebars for motivation...made me cry just looking at it. There was so much emotion on that morning...when the cannon went off to signal the start of the race there was no holding back the tears...and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. Yahoo!
The swim was incredible! The "blender" of arms and legs and just the sheer number of 2000 bodies doing the same thing was captivating.
Once the racers started coming in it was fun to see the "strippers" wrestle people out of their suits and send them on their way to get changed into their bike clothing (if necessary)...then they grabbed their bikes and they were off! I got to see a few friends off on their bikes...and whoosh, they were gone!
When the pros started coming back it was "get the hell out of the way" time. These guys/gals mean business! I can honestly say I would never throw Lucifer like that, but then again...I'm not sponsored! :) There was a steady stream of athletes from that point on, until 17:30 when the cut-off time signaled the closing of the bike lot entrance. By the time the bike lot was closed the first pro was finished his race. Amazing to see them stride across the line looking fresh. I'd look that way too if I was paid to do that...still, it's pretty cool to see.
This is where the race really began to hit home. It was time for my friends to be finishing. It's pretty amazing to see someone you've ridden with or swam with cross the finish line. Wow...incredible! Everyone looked fantastic! What inspiration!!!
To that end, I am sitting beside my registration number that will enable me to sign up for IMC 2009. I will sign up first thing on September 1, and then it's "game on".
As cheesy as this sounds, I can already hear the announcer saying "Allyson Bower, today you ARE an Ironman" as I cross the finish line next year. It gives me goosebumps. I can't wait!
But, the focus is now back to Grand Coulee...BRING IT ON!
Sunday, August 17, 2008
An Introduction to Grand Coulee
I figured that taking a gander at the bike course ahead of time would be beneficial to the upcoming race, so I was off on a wee road trip. I borrowed a tent and a therma rest from a friend (thanks, Mike!), packed some food, took my passport (can't go anywhere without that) and I started heading south.
I've spent a bit of time in Washington before, but it had been years since I had been down to the Grand Coulee Dam area. It's not the most picturesque of places, but I was more impressed with the hospitality of the people I met. Whoever said Americans aren't friendly certainly hadn't met the people I did...it was great. Perhaps it was the "crazy bike" I had on the roof of my car...I don't think Lucifer is crazy looking, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Everyone was easy to talk to and very willing to help out a stranger!
I got into the GC area by about dinner time...oh, did I mention it was hotter than HELL down there? Oh, my God! I got a campsite at the Roosevelt Lake State Park for $10 a night and it was a great little campsite. Good facilities, a beautiful lake (about 5 miles from Banks Lake where the race starts) and very clean. I camped across from a retired Fire Chief from Prince George and next to a couple from Penticton...Canadians! I was in good company.
By the time I had set up the tent and gotten my bike ready for the next day, I was pretty tired (had just come off night shift), so I hit the sack early. A good thing because 5:30am comes quickly. I decided that it would be best to get this ride over with before the true heat of the day...also a good idea. I didn't really sleep very well due to the fact that it was still about eight thousand degrees in the tent (Mike neglected to mention that the tent didn't come with air conditioning...something that should come with tents, don't you agree?)...no breeze and no prospect of cooling off...oh well, nothing that a bit more electrolyte concoction couldn't fix, right?
My eyeballs popped open at 5:28am, just in time to intercept my alarm so as to not wake my neighbors. Brushed my teeth, had some breakfast and set out in search of the Coulee Playground which is where the swim/bike transition area is. It was eerie being the only person up at that time; even the crickets had gone to sleep...something I wished I had just a bit more of. But, I was off for an adventure!
I found the place where the race was to begin from and figured it would be closed. Well, this was not the case. Apparently, every red-necked American who was a Bass Fisherman was there vying for the coveted Coulee Playground Annual Bass Fishing Tournament Cup. Fish beware! I attracted a few looks from the fishermen who were out and about readying themselves for battle against the elusive fishes...but, in all fairness, I was more concerned about being in a place I'd never been before and about to start riding in unfamiliar territory...all by myself. I'm a bit anal about riding alone (and being the US with their questionable health care system; I'd envisioned buzzards pecking my eyeballs out as I lay in a ditch broken...but, there were no buzzards...I asked). I met a lovely lady named Deloris, who was close friends with the race organizers and took me on a guided tour of where the race takes place. She was extremely helpful in getting me oriented with a more detailed map of the course and said that I was to check back in with her upon my return. I checked the map, got the rest of my stuff from the car and upon pressing "start" on my Garmin...I was off!
0630hrs: Started up the switchbacks. Holy crap...these damn thing go on FOREVER! It went up, and up, and up...and then, just when you think you're at the top...on the pavement, as if to taunt you, someone has written (inspirationally, of course) that you only have "3 more turns until the top"...gee, thanks. Well, at that point, HR pinned, legs screaming...it was nice to have some reassurance that "this" was going to be over soon. Getting to the top was a victory, I'm not going to lie to you. But it was pretty short lived. There's nothing up there...except some extremely vast expanses of wheat fields as far as the eye can see. When there wasn't wheat there were fields of dirt...dry, sun-baked dirt...much like a Moon scape...it was pretty desolate up there. There were grasshoppers flinging themselves in front of my tire; "...please stop doing that", I requested, to no avail. Still, they mounted their relentless suicidal attack. There were some big ass beetles marching across the road...where were they going? As big as your thumb...it became a bit of a game to dodge the grasshoppers and the beetles...I was waiting for the snakes to show themselves, but...NOT A ONE!!! Whew! One of the reasons I am talking about the bugs I saw along the way is because there was no one on the road at that time of the day. It was like I had stepped into another dimension where it was just me and my friends the beetles and grasshoppers (actually, I was hoping that I didn't mistake the grasshoppers for locusts, as Nowhere-town,USA was not where I had anticipated spending my last moments on Earth...these are the things I think about all alone, without my morning coffee on a bike in the middle of no where...). But I pedaled on...Once up onto the Mesa the road "undulated" (what a great word...NOT!) for what seemed like FOREVER. Just when you thought you were on top of something...there, off in the distance, was another roller that took you higher. Ugg. This was a lot of work. No doubt about it. Just gotta keep grinding it out...
0815hrs: I saw my first vehicle...and they waved. No, really, they actually waved. It warmed my heart to know that my plight was not completely in vain...that someone recognized my toil.
0835hrs: Destination: Almira, Wa. I stopped at a service station (presumably the only one for MILES) and had to ask for clarification on my really sweaty map. The 3 people in the store were a bit apprehensive of the "alien" that was coming in...as they had admittedly watched me lap the store 2 or 3 times wondering when I was going to cave and ask for directions. "...you lost?", he asked. "well, not really." I said, "...I know where I am, I just don't know how to get back to where I started", an honest answer that made them all crack up. :) I got the directions and set out with the precautionary warning of what was to come...the Almira hill.
0840hrs: Almira Hill. Holy shit. This mother of a hill is no joke. It's about 10 miles in length and climbs and climbs and climbs. It doesn't stop. It doesn't get easier, it just keeps going and going. It was here that I really had to "flip my switch" and think about something other than this arduous task in front of me. I was really caught between stopping, but what would that accomplish...NOBODY KNEW WHERE I WAS! And, nobody, except the odd motorist who waved and smiled with the vigor of someone who has had a warm cup of coffee and a plate of banana pancakes to start the day with, cared! I was in the middle of no where...too far to retrace my steps and doing battle with the voices in my head to stop climbing this damn hill. What the fuck was I was I doing? But...I kept going. It's gotta stop eventually, right?
1015hrs: Reprieve...my physics teacher wasn't lying...what goes up DOES come down. When the power lines began to come into view I knew I was almost there. The decent was wicked...at this point I was so grateful to not be climbing that I didn't realize the speed that was creeping up. At last glance my speed was 37...MILES AN HOUR! Oh my God, the "what if's" at this point could not come into play...I just had to hold on. Getting out onto State Road 174 meant that the Coulee Playground was not far away...I had almost done it. I was just about home. The true course has you routed up to the Grand Coulee Dam, but I turned south back to the Coulee Playground to call it a day.
All in all, it took about 3 and a half hours...a time that I wasn't too pleased with. BUT, considering I didn't know where I was going, AND I did it all alone (no offence to the grasshoppers and beetles that became my "peeps"), AND I made it back in one piece...I was really proud of myself. I checked back in with Deloris and grabbed a Red Bull for the drive back to camp.
Apparently, the run is pancake flat...great, after that punishing bike ride we deserve something like that. The weather was decent on my ride. I rode early in the morning, a bit earlier than what I imagine race day to be, so the wind didn't have time to get too fierce...but I can see where it would play a factor. Nothing you can do about it, but it's nice when it's not in your face...literally. In all, it's going to be a challenging course, but if it was easy everyone would be doing it, right? I am looking forward to sharing this day with Ginny, Andrew, Mike, Joel, Myra and Danny, but most of all with Lisa. Rock on September 13!!!
I've spent a bit of time in Washington before, but it had been years since I had been down to the Grand Coulee Dam area. It's not the most picturesque of places, but I was more impressed with the hospitality of the people I met. Whoever said Americans aren't friendly certainly hadn't met the people I did...it was great. Perhaps it was the "crazy bike" I had on the roof of my car...I don't think Lucifer is crazy looking, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Everyone was easy to talk to and very willing to help out a stranger!
I got into the GC area by about dinner time...oh, did I mention it was hotter than HELL down there? Oh, my God! I got a campsite at the Roosevelt Lake State Park for $10 a night and it was a great little campsite. Good facilities, a beautiful lake (about 5 miles from Banks Lake where the race starts) and very clean. I camped across from a retired Fire Chief from Prince George and next to a couple from Penticton...Canadians! I was in good company.
By the time I had set up the tent and gotten my bike ready for the next day, I was pretty tired (had just come off night shift), so I hit the sack early. A good thing because 5:30am comes quickly. I decided that it would be best to get this ride over with before the true heat of the day...also a good idea. I didn't really sleep very well due to the fact that it was still about eight thousand degrees in the tent (Mike neglected to mention that the tent didn't come with air conditioning...something that should come with tents, don't you agree?)...no breeze and no prospect of cooling off...oh well, nothing that a bit more electrolyte concoction couldn't fix, right?
My eyeballs popped open at 5:28am, just in time to intercept my alarm so as to not wake my neighbors. Brushed my teeth, had some breakfast and set out in search of the Coulee Playground which is where the swim/bike transition area is. It was eerie being the only person up at that time; even the crickets had gone to sleep...something I wished I had just a bit more of. But, I was off for an adventure!
I found the place where the race was to begin from and figured it would be closed. Well, this was not the case. Apparently, every red-necked American who was a Bass Fisherman was there vying for the coveted Coulee Playground Annual Bass Fishing Tournament Cup. Fish beware! I attracted a few looks from the fishermen who were out and about readying themselves for battle against the elusive fishes...but, in all fairness, I was more concerned about being in a place I'd never been before and about to start riding in unfamiliar territory...all by myself. I'm a bit anal about riding alone (and being the US with their questionable health care system; I'd envisioned buzzards pecking my eyeballs out as I lay in a ditch broken...but, there were no buzzards...I asked). I met a lovely lady named Deloris, who was close friends with the race organizers and took me on a guided tour of where the race takes place. She was extremely helpful in getting me oriented with a more detailed map of the course and said that I was to check back in with her upon my return. I checked the map, got the rest of my stuff from the car and upon pressing "start" on my Garmin...I was off!
0630hrs: Started up the switchbacks. Holy crap...these damn thing go on FOREVER! It went up, and up, and up...and then, just when you think you're at the top...on the pavement, as if to taunt you, someone has written (inspirationally, of course) that you only have "3 more turns until the top"...gee, thanks. Well, at that point, HR pinned, legs screaming...it was nice to have some reassurance that "this" was going to be over soon. Getting to the top was a victory, I'm not going to lie to you. But it was pretty short lived. There's nothing up there...except some extremely vast expanses of wheat fields as far as the eye can see. When there wasn't wheat there were fields of dirt...dry, sun-baked dirt...much like a Moon scape...it was pretty desolate up there. There were grasshoppers flinging themselves in front of my tire; "...please stop doing that", I requested, to no avail. Still, they mounted their relentless suicidal attack. There were some big ass beetles marching across the road...where were they going? As big as your thumb...it became a bit of a game to dodge the grasshoppers and the beetles...I was waiting for the snakes to show themselves, but...NOT A ONE!!! Whew! One of the reasons I am talking about the bugs I saw along the way is because there was no one on the road at that time of the day. It was like I had stepped into another dimension where it was just me and my friends the beetles and grasshoppers (actually, I was hoping that I didn't mistake the grasshoppers for locusts, as Nowhere-town,USA was not where I had anticipated spending my last moments on Earth...these are the things I think about all alone, without my morning coffee on a bike in the middle of no where...). But I pedaled on...Once up onto the Mesa the road "undulated" (what a great word...NOT!) for what seemed like FOREVER. Just when you thought you were on top of something...there, off in the distance, was another roller that took you higher. Ugg. This was a lot of work. No doubt about it. Just gotta keep grinding it out...
0815hrs: I saw my first vehicle...and they waved. No, really, they actually waved. It warmed my heart to know that my plight was not completely in vain...that someone recognized my toil.
0835hrs: Destination: Almira, Wa. I stopped at a service station (presumably the only one for MILES) and had to ask for clarification on my really sweaty map. The 3 people in the store were a bit apprehensive of the "alien" that was coming in...as they had admittedly watched me lap the store 2 or 3 times wondering when I was going to cave and ask for directions. "...you lost?", he asked. "well, not really." I said, "...I know where I am, I just don't know how to get back to where I started", an honest answer that made them all crack up. :) I got the directions and set out with the precautionary warning of what was to come...the Almira hill.
0840hrs: Almira Hill. Holy shit. This mother of a hill is no joke. It's about 10 miles in length and climbs and climbs and climbs. It doesn't stop. It doesn't get easier, it just keeps going and going. It was here that I really had to "flip my switch" and think about something other than this arduous task in front of me. I was really caught between stopping, but what would that accomplish...NOBODY KNEW WHERE I WAS! And, nobody, except the odd motorist who waved and smiled with the vigor of someone who has had a warm cup of coffee and a plate of banana pancakes to start the day with, cared! I was in the middle of no where...too far to retrace my steps and doing battle with the voices in my head to stop climbing this damn hill. What the fuck was I was I doing? But...I kept going. It's gotta stop eventually, right?
1015hrs: Reprieve...my physics teacher wasn't lying...what goes up DOES come down. When the power lines began to come into view I knew I was almost there. The decent was wicked...at this point I was so grateful to not be climbing that I didn't realize the speed that was creeping up. At last glance my speed was 37...MILES AN HOUR! Oh my God, the "what if's" at this point could not come into play...I just had to hold on. Getting out onto State Road 174 meant that the Coulee Playground was not far away...I had almost done it. I was just about home. The true course has you routed up to the Grand Coulee Dam, but I turned south back to the Coulee Playground to call it a day.
All in all, it took about 3 and a half hours...a time that I wasn't too pleased with. BUT, considering I didn't know where I was going, AND I did it all alone (no offence to the grasshoppers and beetles that became my "peeps"), AND I made it back in one piece...I was really proud of myself. I checked back in with Deloris and grabbed a Red Bull for the drive back to camp.
Apparently, the run is pancake flat...great, after that punishing bike ride we deserve something like that. The weather was decent on my ride. I rode early in the morning, a bit earlier than what I imagine race day to be, so the wind didn't have time to get too fierce...but I can see where it would play a factor. Nothing you can do about it, but it's nice when it's not in your face...literally. In all, it's going to be a challenging course, but if it was easy everyone would be doing it, right? I am looking forward to sharing this day with Ginny, Andrew, Mike, Joel, Myra and Danny, but most of all with Lisa. Rock on September 13!!!
Monday, August 11, 2008
How bad is this going to hurt?...
Ok, I know it's over a year until I race my first Ironman (possibly my only Ironman), but I just had to know how far 180 kilometres felt. Well, it's far...really far.
I rode most of the course last weekend and, inadvertently, went further than I had anticipated. I rode to Osoyoos then up Richter (thanks, Eric...) and then back-tracked to Penticton where I started. I had a great ride up Richter; paying close attention to heart rate and managed to get to the top before my legs gave out. When I got to the top there was a volunteer from Cops for Cancer handing out ice cold Gatorade, Red Bull, Powergells, etc...it was like heaven!!!! I gratefully accepted a cold Gatorade and stated that I had accomplished my goal for that day and it was time to head for home. The man looked at me a bit funny and said, "...you've come this far, why don't you just ride the whole course?". "Oh no," I said, "...that's much too far for me today, besides I don't have to ride that far because I'm not doing IM until next year". I still remember his puzzled look as I rode back down the monumental hill...
To make a rather convoluted story short, as I was approaching Okanagan Falls, after pretty much bonking from not eating or drinking I did a bit of third-grade math and shook my head at myself. By the time I got back to Penticton I will have completed close to 160 kilometres...the damn course is only 180 kilometres! Grrr....
That was it. I had made it up in my mind that I was coming back the following weekend and doing the WHOLE course. And...for my first kick at the cat...it was something I'll never forget.
I promised myself that in doing this absurd task (I mean, really...I don't HAVE to do that distance until early next summer...what the hell was I thinking?!) that I would achieve 3 things. First: I had to keep my heart rate low. This is not a race, this is an exercise in endurance. Let's just see how far I could go and for how long. That seemed fair enough, right? Second: I HAD to eat. One thing I figured out the weekend previous was that as time went on I just "forgot" to eat. And then, when it was too late, I had nothing left. Hmmm, this could be a problem if I wasn't able to eat or find things that I wanted to eat after 2 or 3 hours in the saddle. The weekend before when I had gotten back to Okanagan Falls, in my pseudo-diabetic coma...I reached for...you got it...Red Bull and Reece's Peanut Butter Cups. Boy, did that nutritional combination taste good for the first 3 minutes...followed by waves of complete euphoria coupled with gut wrenching nausea! (...mental note to self: no more Red Bull and PB Cups...) Yikes! But, back to the nutrition...I selected a veritable buffet of random gel flavors (6-8 of them) for this adventure, a Cliff Bar, Shot Blocks (they were awesome...I'll note when and where they came in handy), a protein bar, and a Sun-Rype Fruit bar...all of which did the trick! I made sure that I had a gel every 35-45 minutes. After I got board of sucking back gels, I switched textures with the Cliff Bar (a bit too sweet, but there are so many flavours to choose from, thankfully) and that seemed to give my stomach what it wanted. And thirdly; I had to drink LOTS. I was really fortunate that the weather didn't start out as hot as it was the weekend before, but given that I was in the Desert, it did get hot. I made sure that my electrolyte mixture was pretty strong and also added 3 sodium tablets to the bottle as well. I brought a ziplock baggie of more electrolyte powder and sodium tablets to add to water that I would buy along the way. I really think that my dillagence in all three of those areas really made the adventure enjoyable.
7 hours is a lot of time to be doing anything...and to be doing anything alone for that length of time was challenging at times. Eric had given me the run-down on the course. "...go easy up Richter, the back side is fast...the rollers go on forever so don't be too keen to power over them...and, if you're lucky the nasty head-wind into Keremeos might relent just enough for your legs to grind it up to Yellow Lake...then you're almost home".
I achieved the first objective; conserve your energy up Richter. Done. I just had to keep in mind that the "rollers" on the back side of Richter will eat me up if I didn't take it easy. It was at this point that I chucked a Shot Block into my mouth and just sucked on it like a hard candy. That little electrolyte block was just what I needed to keep me sustained over those hills. When I reached Keremeos I had realized that I missed the out and back section. Crap! This almost sent me over the edge. I got some infromation from some other riders and made my way down the rough road that the out and back is on. Well...I saw one. A snake. It was big, and ugly and lying at the side of the road...not too sure if it was alive or sleeping, but the exclamation of "Lord Jesus and baby Jesus" at the top of my lungs probably woke the dead. Uggghh, they are the bain of my existance, really. It has been quite a journey to get past this fear...and I still have a way to go. Back to my journey...
I made it back to Keremeos, only to realize that I should refil my water and who should I run into, but Eric! We chatted for a few minutes, got refueled, rehydrated and we were off! "See you in Penticton...you're almost there!" and he was off! Up ahead, I saw what would toy with my mental strength for the rest of the trip...the green mileage markers...Penticton 45 kilometeres. Yippee! I'm almost home! That was short-lived.
Yellow Lake. The climb to get to Yellow Lake is aweful. Plain and simple. It sucks. It keeps going and going up and up and up some more. I fell into cadence with this guy who chatted my ear off for about 20 minutes...another funny story for another time, but he got me up that horrible hill. The Universe does work in mysterious ways. I needed something external to focus on for the part and it was presented to me. Getting to the top was SUCH a huge achievement...I let out a little yell...and kept on pedaling. I could feel Penticton getting closer.
The upside to pedaling uphill endlessly is going downhill...FAST! I almost scared myself I was going so fast...it took everything I had to hold on. It just had to be done. Before I knew it, I was across Highway 97 and was heading North to Penticton. Then the Airport...and back into town. Oh my God, is that the big Peach...am I really back where I started? Yep, there's my car...there's Eric...and I'm done. Well, I did put my shoes on and ran for 15 minutes just to see "how bad is this going to hurt?". It hurt, but a hurt that can only be felt after completing 180 kilometers for the very first time.
I rode most of the course last weekend and, inadvertently, went further than I had anticipated. I rode to Osoyoos then up Richter (thanks, Eric...) and then back-tracked to Penticton where I started. I had a great ride up Richter; paying close attention to heart rate and managed to get to the top before my legs gave out. When I got to the top there was a volunteer from Cops for Cancer handing out ice cold Gatorade, Red Bull, Powergells, etc...it was like heaven!!!! I gratefully accepted a cold Gatorade and stated that I had accomplished my goal for that day and it was time to head for home. The man looked at me a bit funny and said, "...you've come this far, why don't you just ride the whole course?". "Oh no," I said, "...that's much too far for me today, besides I don't have to ride that far because I'm not doing IM until next year". I still remember his puzzled look as I rode back down the monumental hill...
To make a rather convoluted story short, as I was approaching Okanagan Falls, after pretty much bonking from not eating or drinking I did a bit of third-grade math and shook my head at myself. By the time I got back to Penticton I will have completed close to 160 kilometres...the damn course is only 180 kilometres! Grrr....
That was it. I had made it up in my mind that I was coming back the following weekend and doing the WHOLE course. And...for my first kick at the cat...it was something I'll never forget.
I promised myself that in doing this absurd task (I mean, really...I don't HAVE to do that distance until early next summer...what the hell was I thinking?!) that I would achieve 3 things. First: I had to keep my heart rate low. This is not a race, this is an exercise in endurance. Let's just see how far I could go and for how long. That seemed fair enough, right? Second: I HAD to eat. One thing I figured out the weekend previous was that as time went on I just "forgot" to eat. And then, when it was too late, I had nothing left. Hmmm, this could be a problem if I wasn't able to eat or find things that I wanted to eat after 2 or 3 hours in the saddle. The weekend before when I had gotten back to Okanagan Falls, in my pseudo-diabetic coma...I reached for...you got it...Red Bull and Reece's Peanut Butter Cups. Boy, did that nutritional combination taste good for the first 3 minutes...followed by waves of complete euphoria coupled with gut wrenching nausea! (...mental note to self: no more Red Bull and PB Cups...) Yikes! But, back to the nutrition...I selected a veritable buffet of random gel flavors (6-8 of them) for this adventure, a Cliff Bar, Shot Blocks (they were awesome...I'll note when and where they came in handy), a protein bar, and a Sun-Rype Fruit bar...all of which did the trick! I made sure that I had a gel every 35-45 minutes. After I got board of sucking back gels, I switched textures with the Cliff Bar (a bit too sweet, but there are so many flavours to choose from, thankfully) and that seemed to give my stomach what it wanted. And thirdly; I had to drink LOTS. I was really fortunate that the weather didn't start out as hot as it was the weekend before, but given that I was in the Desert, it did get hot. I made sure that my electrolyte mixture was pretty strong and also added 3 sodium tablets to the bottle as well. I brought a ziplock baggie of more electrolyte powder and sodium tablets to add to water that I would buy along the way. I really think that my dillagence in all three of those areas really made the adventure enjoyable.
7 hours is a lot of time to be doing anything...and to be doing anything alone for that length of time was challenging at times. Eric had given me the run-down on the course. "...go easy up Richter, the back side is fast...the rollers go on forever so don't be too keen to power over them...and, if you're lucky the nasty head-wind into Keremeos might relent just enough for your legs to grind it up to Yellow Lake...then you're almost home".
I achieved the first objective; conserve your energy up Richter. Done. I just had to keep in mind that the "rollers" on the back side of Richter will eat me up if I didn't take it easy. It was at this point that I chucked a Shot Block into my mouth and just sucked on it like a hard candy. That little electrolyte block was just what I needed to keep me sustained over those hills. When I reached Keremeos I had realized that I missed the out and back section. Crap! This almost sent me over the edge. I got some infromation from some other riders and made my way down the rough road that the out and back is on. Well...I saw one. A snake. It was big, and ugly and lying at the side of the road...not too sure if it was alive or sleeping, but the exclamation of "Lord Jesus and baby Jesus" at the top of my lungs probably woke the dead. Uggghh, they are the bain of my existance, really. It has been quite a journey to get past this fear...and I still have a way to go. Back to my journey...
I made it back to Keremeos, only to realize that I should refil my water and who should I run into, but Eric! We chatted for a few minutes, got refueled, rehydrated and we were off! "See you in Penticton...you're almost there!" and he was off! Up ahead, I saw what would toy with my mental strength for the rest of the trip...the green mileage markers...Penticton 45 kilometeres. Yippee! I'm almost home! That was short-lived.
Yellow Lake. The climb to get to Yellow Lake is aweful. Plain and simple. It sucks. It keeps going and going up and up and up some more. I fell into cadence with this guy who chatted my ear off for about 20 minutes...another funny story for another time, but he got me up that horrible hill. The Universe does work in mysterious ways. I needed something external to focus on for the part and it was presented to me. Getting to the top was SUCH a huge achievement...I let out a little yell...and kept on pedaling. I could feel Penticton getting closer.
The upside to pedaling uphill endlessly is going downhill...FAST! I almost scared myself I was going so fast...it took everything I had to hold on. It just had to be done. Before I knew it, I was across Highway 97 and was heading North to Penticton. Then the Airport...and back into town. Oh my God, is that the big Peach...am I really back where I started? Yep, there's my car...there's Eric...and I'm done. Well, I did put my shoes on and ran for 15 minutes just to see "how bad is this going to hurt?". It hurt, but a hurt that can only be felt after completing 180 kilometers for the very first time.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Getting Started...
I did my very first triathlon last summer and was hooked. Plain and simple. I had never considered myself a biker...EVER; I "...only rode downhill bikes", to quote myself. And hadn't seen a lap lane of a pool since I was a kid. So, aside from running very recreationally, this was a formidable task.
I started with the guidance and encouragement of a very dear friend, Cathy, who, as an Ironman finisher herself, was only more than happy to enlighten another soul into the fold. I bought a bike, signed up for Master's Swim (much to my Mom's amazement, I'm sure!) and began to fall in love with this sport we call triathlon.
My first race was the Kal Rats Sprint Triathlon, July 2007. It was a blurr...not from my speed, but more from the fact that it was over WAY too quick. I should probably include that I am more comfortable doing longer distances (10km runs to warm up, half-marathon distances are my favourite and I swear that one day I will qualify for Boston). I got an introduction to the "blender" of the swim start, flew onto the bike and damn near died in the run (didn't take in any fuel or fluids...but I'll save nutrition for another posting). BUT, the important thing I got from it was that I loved it!
I had signed up for the Penticton Peach Classic (Olympic Distance) the following weekend...in fact, that was my goal. To say I enjoyed myself would be an understatement. The grin I had crossing that finish line is something I'll always remember. Yes, I was hooked!
I realized early on that getting a coach would be a valuable move. I was connected with, of all people, an incredible woman I went to high school with. Ginny (and her husband Andrew) have been such a gift in this whole experience. Her knowledge and passion for the sport were not only infectious, but clearly evident in everything she does. Her ability to temper my enthusiasm with information and just the right amount of reality has continued me to reach for higher goals. I started this with the intention of "getting fit and being healthy". That changed after that first race. I knew I could do more than just complete a race. I wanted more...
I have fallen hard for this sport...like you do for your first "love". I ache to train. I live to see the download of my days event from my Garmin on my laptop...I can't wait to get into the lake, on my bike or lace up my shoes to head out the door...this is my happy place and I am so grateful to have found it. The friends I have made, the experiences I've had and the things I'd like to accomplish are so profound that I've started a blog...who'd have every thought? I'm serious about doing IMC 2009 and this will be my training diary...of sorts!
"Swim Smart, Ride Strong, Run Tough"
I started with the guidance and encouragement of a very dear friend, Cathy, who, as an Ironman finisher herself, was only more than happy to enlighten another soul into the fold. I bought a bike, signed up for Master's Swim (much to my Mom's amazement, I'm sure!) and began to fall in love with this sport we call triathlon.
My first race was the Kal Rats Sprint Triathlon, July 2007. It was a blurr...not from my speed, but more from the fact that it was over WAY too quick. I should probably include that I am more comfortable doing longer distances (10km runs to warm up, half-marathon distances are my favourite and I swear that one day I will qualify for Boston). I got an introduction to the "blender" of the swim start, flew onto the bike and damn near died in the run (didn't take in any fuel or fluids...but I'll save nutrition for another posting). BUT, the important thing I got from it was that I loved it!
I had signed up for the Penticton Peach Classic (Olympic Distance) the following weekend...in fact, that was my goal. To say I enjoyed myself would be an understatement. The grin I had crossing that finish line is something I'll always remember. Yes, I was hooked!
I realized early on that getting a coach would be a valuable move. I was connected with, of all people, an incredible woman I went to high school with. Ginny (and her husband Andrew) have been such a gift in this whole experience. Her knowledge and passion for the sport were not only infectious, but clearly evident in everything she does. Her ability to temper my enthusiasm with information and just the right amount of reality has continued me to reach for higher goals. I started this with the intention of "getting fit and being healthy". That changed after that first race. I knew I could do more than just complete a race. I wanted more...
I have fallen hard for this sport...like you do for your first "love". I ache to train. I live to see the download of my days event from my Garmin on my laptop...I can't wait to get into the lake, on my bike or lace up my shoes to head out the door...this is my happy place and I am so grateful to have found it. The friends I have made, the experiences I've had and the things I'd like to accomplish are so profound that I've started a blog...who'd have every thought? I'm serious about doing IMC 2009 and this will be my training diary...of sorts!
"Swim Smart, Ride Strong, Run Tough"
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