Archive for the ‘training’ category

My bucket list isn’t getting any shorter…

September 4th, 2010

Despite the fact that I have been systematically checking things off my bucket list (marathon, ultra, Ironman, and so on), it continues to grow. The newest addition? Thru-hike the Appalachian Trail.

Sign from the AT/LT trailhead at VT9 in Bennington, VT.

The latest desire is a result of a training run that John and I took last weekend along 20 miles of the Appalachian Trail. Apparently, the bucket list is a little bit like knowledge: the more you know, the more you realize you want to know. The more we do, the more we realize we want to do.

We had traveled to Vermont seeking a training weekend in preparation for the Vermont 50 ultramarathon, which we are planning to do on September 26. We figured what better way to prepare than on the granddaddy of all trails: The Long Trail (LT)/Appalachian Trail (AT).

According to the Green Mountain Club, which created the LT in the early 1900s, the Long Trail is the oldest long-distance trail in the United States, running from the border of Massachusetts, through Vermont, to the border of Canada. The section that we ran, out of Bennington, VT, is also part of the Appalachian Trail. (The LT is coterminous with the AT for about 100 miles in the southern part of VT.)

So, last Saturday morning, we awoke and drove about 45 minutes to Bennington to hop on the trail. We decided to head north, which took us up Glastenbury Mountain. And, when I say, “up” – I mean it. According to my Garmin, we climbed a total of 4,340 feet over 10.1 miles. We then turned around and descended 4,340 feet over 10.1 miles, giving us a total of 20 miles on the course with over 8,000 feet of elevation change. No wonder I was so sore this ENTIRE week.

The particular section of trail that we hiked was incredibly challenging and exhilarating. It was quite technical, with large boulders covering most of the trail floor. And at some points, the grade was so sharp, I had to actually pull myself up holding on to tree limbs or rocks. At other points, magnificent large stones formed steps up the side of some of the steepest sections. Tree roots jutted up everywhere, demanding full attention to the trail. And, even with that full attention, John and I did a fair amount of tripping, but luckily, no face plants. And, going downhill was no easier than going up. Because the trail was so technical, we couldn’t really hammer the downhills for fear of tripping on a root, or slipping on a boulder.

The views were spectacular, as were the thick areas on the trail, where we were nestled in the trees. Given how beautiful it was, I was happy that we couldn’t run that fast. It gave me more time to enjoy the natural energy that comes from the trail.

Along the way, we ran into others who were

We took a cold soak in this stream at the end of our run. It was DELICIOUS!

on the trail for the day, as we were. Some who were section-hiking for a few days or weeks. And, then, we met the thru-hikers. The people who started on Springer Mountain in Georgia, and were headed 2,179 miles to Mount Katahdin in Maine. Those people. The people that I envy and now want to become. We stopped and talked with one couple for about 20 minutes, asking them questions about their journey–which at that point was already over 1,600 miles! They estimated that they had about 40 days to go, through some of the most difficult terrain in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. I hung on their every word.

Before we even finished our run, I was set on thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail. It’s on the bucket list. It must be done.

The view from the Goddard Shelter, almost 10 miles from the trail head in Bennington.

Post to Twitter Tweet This Post Post to Delicious Delicious Post to Digg Digg This Post Post to Facebook Facebook

Let’s Celebrate: Vermont Training Camp

July 6th, 2010

I spent last Thursday, July 1st, getting various last minute items (gels, accelerade, spare tires, etc.), and then packing those items and more. The car was packed, with the exception of the bikes, which simply needed to be put on the rooftop racks. So, within moments of John’s arrival home from work, we (including Bella) were in the car and on our way.

Bella likes to cuddle up with all the stuff in the back of the car. As a rule, she *hates* car rides, but she likes to get away. So, the car ride is a necessary evil for her.

We were headed to John’s family’s vacation home in West Halifax, VT, where we had married 10 years ago to the day. Isn’t it just oh-so-romantic to return there for our anniversary? Well, I guess it would have been if that was the reason we were going to Vermont. It wasn’t.
» Read more: Let’s Celebrate: Vermont Training Camp

Post to Twitter Tweet This Post Post to Delicious Delicious Post to Digg Digg This Post Post to Facebook Facebook

Lake Placid Bike Course: Observations from a newbie

June 28th, 2010

You know you're in for a ride when you see this sign. There are three "low gear" areas along the descent. This sign is in the middle of the second section, which lasts for about 1.5 miles.

No matter how one may think himself accomplished, when he sets out to learn a new language, science, or the bicycle, he has entered a new realm as truly as if he were a child newly born into the world.

~Frances Willard, How I Learned to Ride the Bicycle

While I’m not exactly learning to ride the bike for the first time, Lake Placid Ironman’s 112 mile bike course–which covers roughly 6,000 feet of elevation change–does require that I learn a few new tricks to ride efficiently, strongly, bravely. And so, on the morning of  Saturday June 19th, I awoke early – excited, nervous, eagerly anticipating this day that would provide John and I with first-hand experience riding the Lake Placid Bike course. Not quite like a child on Christmas morning, perhaps more like a child on the first day of Kindergarten: nervous, curious, and a little bit scared. Luckily, I didn’t cry for my mommy when I started down the 9km descent into the town of Keene.

I took my time on this ride, which offered the opportunity to really study the course. I also had the advantage of riding with Charlotte (you may recall her from my previous post), who generously provided her insights as we rode. This entry will include what I learned during my almost-8 hours on the bike course. I offer these tips in the spirit of sharing experiences and ideas that may be helpful to other triathletes.While this post may be most relevant for those who are planning on doing the Lake Placid course, as appropriate, I will include observations that may be useful generally to long-course cyclists and triathletes. As always, if you have ideas to share – please feel free to leave them in the comments section! Together, we can make each other better :) .

» Read more: Lake Placid Bike Course: Observations from a newbie

Post to Twitter Tweet This Post Post to Delicious Delicious Post to Digg Digg This Post Post to Facebook Facebook

Fireman Ironman Training Camp: “I am so lucky to be able to do this”

June 23rd, 2010

“Whenever I get scared or feel anxiety, I just remind myself that I am so lucky to be able to do this.” And with that statement, Charlotte became a source of incredible knowledge and motivation as I worked my way through a challenging, exhilarating and ultimately rewarding training weekend in Lake Placid, NY.

I met Charlotte on the banks of Mirror Lake, just as we were getting ready to do one loop of the swim course last Friday evening (June 18th) to kick off the 10th Annual Fireman Ironman Training Camp, which is organized by New York City Fire Fighter Larry Parker and his excellent staff,, volunteers and panel of experts. This camp is a grassroots, low-key training weekend that asks you to “leave your egos home.” For the cost of $149 per person, the camp offered ample aid station support for the workouts, fantastic volunteers,  an impressive and knowledgeable panel of experts, a buffet dinner on Saturday night,a fun and laid back BBQ on Sunday night, a great goodie bag, t-shirt, various giveaways from the camp’s many sponsors, and the opportunity to meet some of the finest ironman athletes. In sum, it offered serious workouts mixed with great fun.

» Read more: Fireman Ironman Training Camp: “I am so lucky to be able to do this”

Post to Twitter Tweet This Post Post to Delicious Delicious Post to Digg Digg This Post Post to Facebook Facebook

Find your *something*

May 25th, 2010

“I could never do that.”

OR

“I wish I could do that.”

OR

“I don’t know how you can train so much. I would die.”

Over the past few months, I’ve heard people say these statements (or similar ones) when John and I tell them we are training for an Ironman. I know people are saying these things in a complimentary way – and I am grateful for the support and words of encouragement. Yet, as odd as it may seem, these statements have started to make me feel a little bit uncomfortable. You see, I’m convinced that each of us have the potential to do and achieve amazing things. There’s no reason to wish to be able to do something because we can. We own the potential within us to reach the goals we find most important. Finding and reaching our potential requires a challenging, but rewarding process of identifying our goals, and maintaining focus and discipline in our pursuit of those goals.

Goals are (and should be) as individual as each of us are. Said differently, goals are personal. For John and I, our fitness goals have been directed toward endurance endeavors. For others, those goals might not make sense. But, everyone has “something” they want to achieve, even if they haven’t started taking the steps to achieve that goal yet.

So, while I appreciate the compliments about our training, I’m not sold on the idea that what John and I are doing is any more amazing than another person’s journey toward whatever their “something” might be. That’s not to say that I’m not proud of what I’m doing, and that it doesn’t give me a sense of accomplishment: it does.  Yet, I am humbly reminded – almost daily – that others are so amazing and do wonderful things in the pursuit of their goals. I find inspiration in their human desire to do more, be more, help more.

My ironman journey serves as a daily reminder that setting goals and working toward them is an important component of a meaningful life. Of course, this process of setting and achieving goals is frequently easier said (or written) than done. To help keep me focused, I try to stick to some core principles. I thought that sharing these ideas with you might be worthwhile for today’s post. I hope you agree.

In order to achieve a goal, we need first to clearly identify it.

Seems simple, right? Not always. I’ve found that listing and describing my goals in writing is a useful exercise. Before embarking on something that will take considerable resources of time, money and effort, I need to be clear that this goal belongs to me. Again, goals are personal. They are not about other people’s expectations of us. I’ve gotten into a bit of trouble in the past trying to please others or to meet others’ expectations. It’s a losing game. Even if I meet those expectations, that achievement can have a hollow feel because it’s not a goal that belongs to me personally.

So, I have found that reflection about my goals is helpful. That reflection can be through meditation, through a private journal, and sometimes in a public forum, such as this blog.

Resist the temptation to underestimate.

Hoo-boy – this is a mistake I make ALL THE TIME. (See my previous post about it here.) I have a habitual tendency to underestimate myself – not just with fitness, but with all types of goals. So, if I can offer advice in the vein of “do as I say, not as I do” here goes: When identifying goals, resist the temptation to limit yourself. Yes, we want to be realistic in setting goals. It’s probably not smart or safe to go from being a full-time couch potato to a marathon runner in 4 weeks. But, it’s also important to avoid picking a goal that is too easily obtained. In that case, we don’t reap the benefits of stretching past our comfort zone to learn and experience something truly remarkable.

The goal of finishing an Ironman, for me, is safely placed just a little bit past my comfort zone, but not so far past it that it’s an impossible dream. If you are like me, and tend to underestimate and doubt yourself, enlist the help of others to help you identify realistic goals. With respect to my original pacing expectations for the Ironman, John and my coach have been very helpful in reminding me, “Maria, you can probably do better than that. Just sayin’.” At the same time, I know better than to set a 21 mph average pace for my bike during the Ironman. I’m not ready for that yet. But, I’m not ruling it out for the future ;)

Achieving a “big” goal is really about accomplishing a series of smaller goals.

Finishing an Ironman is not just about moving across 140.6 miles under my own power. Sure, that’s what the endpoint looks like. But, that larger goal is comprised of a series of much smaller, but no less significant accomplishments. Finishing an Ironman also includes finishing my first 100-mile bike ride, increasing my run times off the bike, improving my swim mechanics, and so on. Furthermore, the goal of finishing an Ironman is wrapped up with my goal to help other people by raising money for college students who are low on funds but high on smarts (for info, see the Iron Scholarship).

For a person who wants to start being physically active, or who wants to ramp up their engagement with an active lifestyle, this process is also a series of smaller goals. Don’t think about what you aren’t able to do. Focus on what you can do now, and set a small goal for where you want to be next week or next month–before you become overwhelmed by where you want to be next year.  And no matter what the goal, we all have to start somewhere.

In working toward our “bigger” goals, it is important to celebrate and recognize these milestones along the journey. Doing so helps with motivation, and also demonstrates for us in a tangible way that we are, indeed, progressing toward the goal.

It’s also important to recognize and examine setbacks in our progress. Rather than seeing these as insurmountable obstacles, see them as learning opportunities. Did I err in judgment? Am I taking the right steps in progressing toward my larger goal? Have I set a realistic time frame for my goal? But, no matter what, DON’T GIVE UP. Find another way to achieve your goal if the current path isn’t getting you there. Don’t think about what you can’t do, think about what you can do.

Goals infuse our lives with meaning.

Once we identify a goal (or goals), our daily decisions become part of achieving that goal. I lived various portions of my life without a meaningful goal, and these were some of the darkest, least enjoyable parts of my life. I find that having a clear goal (or set of goals) ascribes substantive meaning to even the most mundane actions. For example, eating is no longer something I do because I’m hungry (although that is certainly a significant part of the process!). Eating, and making decisions about my nutrition, is an integral part of working toward my training and racing goals. If I make the wrong nutrition decisions, I pay the price. Make the right ones, I reap the benefits. As such, the daily decisions we make become infused with a meaning, giving us purpose and focus.

As our lives evolve, our goals do too.

I believe each of us needs to find “our something” and work toward it.  But, that doesn’t mean that we are focused on a single goal for decades at a time. Quite the contrary. As we move through our lives, gain new experiences, our goals will understandably change as well. This evolution has certainly been the case for me. As little as two years ago, I never would have identified finishing an Ironman as a goal. Nope. It wasn’t even a “secret dream.” The plan at that time was to run one marathon – just to say I did it – and move on with my life. Well, crossing that marathon finish line changed that vision into a lifestyle that finds meaning in endurance endeavors.

As I learned after running my first marathon, as we achieve goals, we need to set new ones. If we fall short of a goal, we need to adapt and find a new way to achieve that goal. But, we can’t lose sight of the fact that

we are capable of achieving our goals (whatever they might be) if we take systematic and conscious steps to reach them.

This lesson about goals is one of the greatest I’ve learned during my Ironman journey. It makes me hopeful and excited to see how each experience will teach me something about what’s possible and what my potential is and could be. Find your *something* and go after it!

Post to Twitter Tweet This Post Post to Delicious Delicious Post to Digg Digg This Post Post to Facebook Facebook

Vulnerability and Resiliency: Lessons from the Cancer Center

May 7th, 2010

The windows in the room lined the upper reaches of the ceiling, enough to let plenty of light in the room, but not big enough or low enough to let us see anything below the blue sky line. My sister sat in an office-grade recliner with blue plastic covering, and I sat in a matching chair, without the reclining function. The machines beeped every so often as either my sister or one of the other patients finished their bags of drugs: benadryl, saline, dextrose, various concoctions of chemotherapy. At times, I could tell by the winces on my sister’s face and the faces of the other patients that the process hurt. Other times, we talked as if there weren’t lines of poison draining into veins as a weapon to kill other types of poison already creeping in the body. Most of the time, however, those lines filled with what my sister calls “the death drug” were difficult to ignore.

A diagnosis of cancer could be enough to encourage some to quit, to lose hope, to despair. Despite the suck-fest that is cancer, so many choose to push on, to battle. They don’t quit. Throughout the 3 hours or so that one or another drug dripped into my sister’s body, I was witness to and humbled by the awesome vulnerability and resiliency of human beings. Here were people who were fighting, testing and pushing past obstacles–even at a moment of extreme vulnerability. Here were people who have accepted no other option but to endure courageously. Push past the pain. Visualize the end result of a healthy body. It seems to me that athletes have much to learn from these fighters. After all, it is not just in times of disease or sickness that we are vulnerable. Those dire circumstances simply highlight what is always already the case for every human being.

Four months of dedicated Ironman training have made me stronger, harder and faster than I have ever been in my life. I have not only found my inner athlete, I have reclaimed her. I own my identity as an athlete. Most days, I hardly recognize my own body, and I am happily surprised by my abilities to push past previous limits of speed and distance.

Yet, at the very moment that appears to be my pinnacle of strength and stamina, I am acutely aware of my vulnerability, and of the vulnerability of every human body and mind.

While vulnerability is typically considered to be problematic, a recognition that we are vulnerable–and the fact that this is the unavoidable counterpart to strength and vitality–can be an important source of mental and physical growth.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve spent a fair amount of time mulling over my vulnerability. Oh, poor pity me. I hurt my hamstring. I fell off my bike. Luckily, there is another side to these moments of weakness. When confronted with various mental and physical challenges, I have adapted; I have found ways to grow. Despite my sister’s diagnosis of a fast-moving, invasive type of breast cancer, she adapted, and while the cancer has stopped growing (thankfully!), her will, her strength, her resiliency has been fortified.  While the fight she fights is much more dire and grave than my own, I am learning from her strength despite our inherent vulnerability.

But, this measure of strength and resiliency requires active engagement on our part. While no struggle is easy–or guaranteed to end in our favor–the process can be just as valuable as the end result. Here’s some of what I’ve learned as a result of the toggles and tugs between vulnerability and resiliency:

Don’t dwell on the problem. At times, I have a tendency to let my brain get mired in a laundry list of worries and anxieties. This does me no good, and frequently leads to bouts of insomnia. When I stop dwelling on the problem, I start working toward the goal. I realize the possibilities, not the problems. Likewise, my sister keeps moving on: work, school, life.

Don’t go it alone. Rely on a community for support.  I am lucky that my husband John is a purebred optimist, and helps me find my optimism and strength when I need it most. I return the favor as much as possible. Likewise, my sister relies on a community of support to help her through the troubled times. It is important to receive and give help. Share with others. Learn from their strengths. Help them in their times of vulnerability.

Visualize a positive end result. I like to daydream about finish lines, about what it will feel like to accomplish training and racing goals. I find that at moments when I start to think about a problem, I can reverse that process by imagining how it will feel to cross the finish line as the announcer says, “Maria, you are an IRONMAN!” Ooh, I just got chills :) My sister has had the benefit of getting a very positive MRI report, which showed that the cancer is GONE. G.O.N.E. GONE. How’s that for positive visualization?

Think in terms of small goals or small steps. When the overarching goal seems impossible or too far out of reach, break it down into smaller goals or steps. It’s not 112 miles on the bike. It’s 2 x 56 mile sets, or 4 x 28 mile sets. Or whatever helps you recognize how manageable the distance, the effort is. For my sister, this has meant taking each treatment separately. Each test as a new milestone in her progress toward wellness. Then, when we achieve the smaller goals, we need to celebrate them! This helps with motivation, as well as with staying positive and resilient.

Give yourself a pep talk. During challenging moments, or at times when I am nervous (such as right before a race or a challenging training session), I give myself a pep talk. OUT LOUD. Yes, audibly. I have found that these pep talks are much more effective when I hear them. I say things like, “You got this, girl!” or “Check you out, you rock!” In other words, I say to myself the words of encouragement I usually reserve for other people. And, sometimes, I’m not afraid to administer a bit of tough love, if need be. “C’mon now, keep it together, and push past this. Enjoy the suffer!”

Don’t let the negative voices win the argument. Despite best efforts to stay positive, negative voices do creep in. But, you have to work actively to counteract them. John and I have a rule: when we say something negative about ourselves, we have to counter it with 5 specific positive statements about ourselves. It’s important that these positive statements are SPECIFIC. (Note: this idea isn’t original to us; we got it from Don Fink’s book, Be Iron Fit.) I have tried to be vigilant in responding to the negative voices in my head using this method. Over time, it makes a difference! Another great trick: when you feel low, at your breaking point even, smile. It will feel fake at first, but if you keep at it the positive vibration from your smiling lips will spread to your brain, and the rest of your body.

DON’T QUIT. Just don’t. Adapt. Work around difficulties. You might not be able to accomplish the goal in the manner you wanted to originally, but you can STILL DO IT. Keep moving in the direction of your goals, your dreams. Then, once you reach a goal, dream up a new one. Learn new vulnerabilities. Find new sources of strength. But, don’t quit.

Each of us is vulnerable, yes. But, we are simultaneously resilient in ways we might not realize. Find your way. Be resilient.

Post to Twitter Tweet This Post Post to Delicious Delicious Post to Digg Digg This Post Post to Facebook Facebook

I’m going mental

April 29th, 2010

Overlooking the finish line at Lake Placid Ironman in 2009.

We are about 12 weeks away from the big show: Ironman Lake Placid. As I type that sentence, I can feel my heart rate elevate. A few weeks ago (7 to be exact), I wrote a post about how training for Ironman Lake Placid was changing our lives. At that time, I thought only in simple terms of time management. Ha! Silly girl. I didn’t even know the half of it when I wrote that entry. Way back on March 12th, I oh-so naively thought this journey was about managing time and training my body for the physical endurance challenge we had set for ourselves.

Well, the road to the Ironman is considerably dicier than that. Those are the easy parts. I had underestimated how deeply challenging the mental component of training for this race would be. With a little more than 12 weeks to go, I am taking the mental game much more seriously.

Over the previous 7 weeks, I’ve experienced two bike accidents that have rattled my confidence in my bike handling skills, a work and training schedule that gives me little down time (if any), and workouts that regularly (sometimes daily!) push me past boundaries that I had thought I could (or would?) never cross. Each of these challenges (among others) is about much more than the physical experience. In many ways, the physical aspect of training is the easiest part of this process.

Physically, I feel that my body is capable of crossing the finish line. Could I be faster, stronger? Sure. But, could I just finish in 17 hours at this point? I think so. So, while my training will continue to enhance my physical conditioning, at this point, the most important part of the game for me is training my brain.

I could turn this post into a fairytale, and write that I have surmounted the many obstacles that challenge one’s confidence and mental focus. But, I don’t think a sanitized description of my experiences is worth much, nor is it interesting.

Perhaps the toughest mental challenge I’m facing right now is the bike. Getting run off the road by a car has really forced me to face the dangers associated with road biking. I must be constantly vigilant to manage my fear and apprehension while riding – even on the most basic of terrain. I worry mostly about drivers who are on their cell phones or text messaging that may run me off the road–yet again. I have to consciously and forcefully push these images from my head. At my lowest moments, these fears make me feel weak, pathetic.

At my best moments, however, I like to think that by getting on the bike despite this fear, I am being courageous. Mark Twain wrote, “Courage is not the lack of fear. It is acting in spite of it.” Yes, I’m nervous when I get on my bike: cars, potholes, steep descents. These are the things that make me want to quit triathlon. What the heck am I doing on this road bike, anyway? Uh, aren’t I a runner? But, I energetically work to push these voices of doubt from my head.

I get on my bike and ride in spite of them. Every time I ride, I fight the voices that want to tell me I’ll never make it, that I can’t make it, that this is dangerous, that I’m a fool. I give my courageous voices a chance to explain the counter-arguments: I can make it. I am more than I thought I could be. Look at me DOING THIS!

Other times, when the fear seems to be winning the argument, I yell audibly at myself, “Stop it. Stop thinking about crashing, and start thinking about gliding. Don’t be a WIMP! STOP IT!”

Sometimes, I simply concentrate on my breathing: In, out. A pranayama yoga practice while riding. Ahhhhh.

And, when I’m not training, I reflect upon what the Ironman experience is about, and some of the reasons why I’m doing it: to feel my inner athlete, to raise money for the Iron Scholarship, to experience living.

A few weeks ago, I had the wonderful opportunity to spend some time with my 11-year-old nephew. We were watching “Classic Triathlon” on Universal Sports, which was replaying the 2005 Ironman World Championships. The race re-cap highlighted, as it usually does, the spectacular challenges that many of the athletes must face in preparing for the race. My nephew commented on how amazing these athletes were to climb over obstacles that would stop others in their tracks. And, I said, “That’s what the Ironman is about, Jake. It’s about doing things, feeling things, thinking things you never knew you could. It’s pushing past what you thought were your limitations, and becoming someone you didn’t know you could be.”

On July 25th, I’ll be looking forward to meeting the person I’ve become.

Post to Twitter Tweet This Post Post to Delicious Delicious Post to Digg Digg This Post Post to Facebook Facebook

Hitting the road

April 4th, 2010

Saturday morning means one thing: my long bike ride. All week long, I was looking forward to the ride because everyone was abuzz with “how nice” the weather would be. Hmmm. Well, the sun and warm temps must have taken a pass on the Southern Jersey shoreline on Saturday morning.

When we woke up, it was foggy, damp and chilly. My original plan had been to get up early (which I did) and complete my ride, leaving most of the day to catch up on work. No dice. It just wasn’t safe to head out a 7:00 a.m. with such low visibility. I like to be fully visible to cars, who frequently are not looking for cyclists.

I decided to wait a bit to see if the fog would lift. By 9:15 a.m., I could see the sun beginning to burn through the mist. So, I saddled up.

Cycling is not my strength, and over the past several weeks, I’ve been struggling to find my rhythm and strength. This ride was different.  I was zipping along, at a comfortably challenging pace, about 17 miles per hour average, with an average heart rate hovering between 128-132 bpm. Perfect. That’s exactly where I want it for the Ironman. Beyond the pace and the heart rate, I felt good. I rarely get on or off the bike thinking, “Wow, that feels good.” It’s just not my thing. But, this ride was looking to be an exception.

I was being mindful to take a quick drink every 15 minutes or so, and I was practicing getting into and out of aero bars (clipped to the front of my bike), using the drop bars (the undercurved part of the bike’s handlebars), and riding on the cow horns. The course that I had selected was moderately hilly, at least by Southern New Jersey standards, and I was working the uphills – maintaining a high cadence despite the elevation change. It was just perfect.

And then, about 1 hour and 21 minutes into the ride, it was just horrific. In just 3 seconds, my ride went from awesome to awful.

Somewhere along Weekstown Road (for those of you familiar with the area), a car came whizzing by me, dangerously close. I was on my aero bars, and flinched. My front wheel jutted sharply to the right, and I lost control of the bike. I watched as the ground  rose up to make contact with the right corner of my helmet. I heard the crush of plastic and foam. I felt the asphalt scrape my knees, legs, and arms. That moment, about 3 seconds, seemed to last 3 minutes.

The impact zone. Always, always, always wear a helmet!

Then, the scene became chaotic. I was hyperventilating, laying in the middle of the road. I grabbed my bike, and pulled myself and it to the side of the road. I lay in the dirt shoulder, gasping for air. I ripped off my helmet, my windbreaker (bright yellow, mind you). I felt nauseous, dizzy, scared.

According to my Garmin data, I was moving at 19.3 mph when I went down. I estimate that I skid along the road about 6 or 7 feet (as determined by the trail of sports drink that spilled from my aero bars as I skidded).

The woman in the car behind me, pulled her car up to block any other cars from getting to close to me. Luckily (or is it ironically?), the road I was on didn’t have many cars. But, it is a long stretch of tar, and the cars that do use it, move fast. She got out of the car.

“Are you okay?” she asked me.

“Huh [gasp] I [wheeze] think so [gasp],” I replied.

“Do you need help?”

“Not [gulp air] sure. I [gasp] have a [gasp] phone,” I managed to say.

She said she was going down the road a bit to drop her recyclables at the dump, and would be back in a minute to check on me. True to her word, she returned. By that time, I had called John, who was working on trying to calm me down.

“Are you hurt?” That was the first thing he wanted to know. Uh, was I hurt? Was that meant to be a trick question?

“Yes,” I whimpered. But, he didn’t mean “normal” bike crash hurt. He meant, “Are you out of the game hurt?” He meant INJURY.

I surveyed all my limbs, and looked at the bloody pulps of skin all over my body. Despite what it looked (and felt) like, I realized, no, I wasn’t “out of the game” injured.

After that, I needed about 10 minutes on the side of the road to collect myself. Eventually, I was able to breathe normally, the rush of adrenaline subsided, and the dizziness went away. As I stood there, the handful of passersby were quite community-minded. Almost every single motorist stopped to make sure I was okay. And I was–once I got my wind back.

As I was preparing to get back on my bike, the car that had passed me right as I fell came back. He said, “Are you okay? I realized I could have been a little more generous with the space I left you.”

At that moment, I realized why I had fallen. I looked at him, a bit incredulously. “Is that what happened? Oh. [long pause] I had a nasty fall.”

He smiled, “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. Sorry about that.” And, then he whizzed off. Oh, yeah, I’m fine, jackass. Thanks. I realize it wasn’t his fault that I crashed – I should have had better control of my bike – but really?

I got back on the bike (which was virtually unscathed), scared and a little wobbly. I was never able to regain my original rhythm–not even close. I was just past the halfway mark on my ride when I crashed, and had to crawl home 19 miles at a measly 12 mph average. I think in some ways, this shift was the biggest disappointment. I was having a stellar ride until that point. I had cruised a little more than 21 miles, averaging 17 miles per hour, and feeling stronger by the mile. All told, the ride took me 2 hours and 58 minutes, for a total of 41.65 miles.

I’m happy I made it home in one piece.  I’m also a little bit happy that the crash happened; it seems an appropriate part of Ironman training. I feel tough, seasoned. After all, it was bound to happen at some point, and I figure riding another hour and a half after crashing builds character. At least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.

Battered, but not broken.

Post to Twitter Tweet This Post Post to Delicious Delicious Post to Digg Digg This Post Post to Facebook Facebook

I’m injured, but I’m not out

February 19th, 2010

I have a case of what appears to be hamstring tendonitis in my right leg. At first, the injury led me to drop running from my training, and replace it with aqua jogging, while continuing my training with swimming and biking. However, at the end of last week, it became painfully (literally) clear to me that I would have to also drop the bike and aqua jogging. My coach took it a step further and said: no kicking while swimming. My first response: SERIOUSLY?

I found it impossible to be optimistic and find the silver lining at first. This news simply wrecked me. I spent Sunday afternoon sulking, icing and saying, “I don’t want to talk about it” every time John asked me, “How are you doing with this news?”

As I laid on the couch last Sunday, elevating my legs, and shivering from the large bags of ice I had placed all over my lower body, I felt completely helpless. I felt pathetic. I felt weak. How could I possibly finish an Ironman in July if I can’t even train properly? Who the hell am I kidding? I had lost my mental focus and the momentum that I had been building in my training. I had just come off a great 3.5 bike ride on Saturday (despite the injury), and now I felt like I couldn’t even get off the couch.

I spent most of Sunday and Monday secretly, inwardly freaking out. I tried not to verbalize my feelings because I felt like that would only increase my defectiveness, my weakness, my brokenness. I tried not to concentrate on the injury, but really, that’s been a futile exercise, made especially difficult by the fact that I have had a fairly constant dull ache in my hamstring. Pleasant.

When I got into the pool on Monday, I grabbed the pull buoy and placed it between my legs. No kicking. How the hell could this even count as a workout? Instead of thinking about swimming, I thought: I will gain weight. I will lose fitness. I will lose strength. I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am, and now one injury would ruin it all. My thoughts zeroed in on nothing but doom and gloom. So, suffice to say, that Monday morning swim was not effective for my training. My head was not in the game. I might as well have stayed under the covers for all the good that did me.

I realized I needed to be more pro-active, that I couldn’t just sit around icing and flailing around in the pool. First, I called a chiropractor, Dr. Reed Lerman, who had helped me with a minor case of hip bursitis I had last year. He uses laser therapy (sort of like ultrasound therapy) to help improve recovery. After two treatments last year, my hip bursitis improved within a week. So, I thought, perhaps this will help with my hamstring? I had a treatment on Tuesday morning, and by the afternoon the bulk of the pain in my hip area had lessened. More importantly, just the idea that I was doing something helped to improve my mental state.

And, this mental improvement, helped me make better use of pool time. By the time I got in the pool on Wednesday, I was ready to focus again. Instead of concentrating on what I couldn’t do, I thought about what this injury has “freed” me to focus on. For example, swimming with the buoy allows me to concentrate singularly on my stroke, in particular making sure I pull my arm all the way through the entire stroke (back near my hips), and ensuring proper body rotation so I don’t have to lift my head out of the water to breath. Guess what? This resulted in greater efficiency in my stroke, which was evidenced by decreasing lap times.

And, because I can’t bike, run or do lower body strength training, all of my strength work has been concentrated on my upper body and my core–which are my weak areas to begin with. I’ve included core work every day this week. If I had full use of my lower extremities, I wouldn’t be able to spend as much time on my core. Yet, a strong core is the KEY ingredient to triathlon success–it’s also important to help prevent injury. Hmmmm.

Yesterday, I had an appointment with my primary doctor, a sports medicine guy. He allayed my fears that this injury was some type of chronic condition, assuring me that based on his assessment of the hammy, there is nothing ACUTE about the problem. Just my body saying: Whoa, lady, we need to chill for a minute. He also gave me a script for physical therapy, that will also include some strength training. I have my first PT appointment today. I’m excited to be officially ON THE MEND.

I might have a temporary problem with my hamstring, sure. But, don’t count me out. In a few weeks, I’ll be rested, recovered, and ready to start kicking some a$$. SERIOUSLY.

Post to Twitter Tweet This Post Post to Delicious Delicious Post to Digg Digg This Post Post to Facebook Facebook

Indoor training doesn’t have to be as terrible as the weather

February 10th, 2010

Our setup in the garage. It might not be glamorous, but it gets the job done.

Cold weather doesn’t bother me. I prefer it to the warmer weather. However, snow is a problem for outdoor training – especially cycling, Unfortunately, the snow has been plentiful this winter–an anomaly for the Southern New Jersey coast. With all the snow, and limited city budgets for plowing said snow, John and I have had to ride the indoor trainer* quite a bit.

If you’ve never ridden a bike trainer, you have been spared what is sometimes mental agony, resulting from spinning in circles without going anywhere, which can be similar to running on a treadmill or swimming laps in a pool. If you have ridden the trainer, then you know that the prospect of a long indoor “ride” requires preparation. And, with the right preparation, it doesn’t have to be a bore or a sluggish chore. Rather, I’ve found that a few key elements can make this training time enjoyable, and more importantly, effective for making training gains.

A caveat: I’m not an experienced cyclist. But, I hope there’s something here of value for you. Any readers with additional tips: please post them in the comments! I’m always looking for new ideas :) .

You may also find that some of these tips can be useful for those of you who are stuck on the treadmill–or engaged in any type of indoor training.

Create a training space.

If possible, make this space “semi-permanent” in the sense that you won’t have to put the bike and trainer (or other equipment) away after every workout, and then have to pull it out before every workout. This saves valuable time – and when you are already working out 2-3 hours a day, saving 20-30 minutes can be the difference between getting to work on time–or not. It can also leave you with valuable time for core work and stretching. In addition to the equipment, I recommend have a source to play music (beyond your MP3 player), a television, and a DVD/VHS player. You can even decorate your space with motivational posters, stickers, sayings and so on. We also find that a mirror helps us check our form on the bike, preventing us from getting sloppy when we are tired.

Have a plan or a goal for each training session.

I find that simply riding without aim will make any indoor session feel like it lasts too long. Furthermore, if you don’t have a clear sense of the goal for the session, it becomes that much easier to say, “Oh, I’ve had enough for today” when it starts to get a little monotonous. A plan might include a workout with intervals, tempo work, hills, endurance, force, or any other training goal you might be shooting for. For example, I’ve done a “hill” ride, which I was able to simulate by putting the front end of my bike up on bricks, and then shifting up and down through my gears to increase the difficulty. It was a great workout  – and one that I couldn’t have replicated on the roads of South Jersey because we simply don’t have any hills.

Additionally, you don’t have to stop for cars or redlights or stop signs when you are on the trainer–another great value for training efficiency. You can just ride. So, if you want to ride a steady zone 2 endurance ride, you can without interruptions.

But, you need to decide what your plan is before you hop on the bike, and this plan should fit with your overall goals for training. Are you doing a race with hills? Do you need more power on the bike? Are you trying to increase your speed? The answers to these questions will let you know what types of rides to create for yourself. I find that having a clear plan of attack for each training session makes the time go by more quickly, and more importantly the time spent on the trainer is efficient in terms of working toward my overarching training goals.

USA Triathlon recently posted a helpful article in this regard, you can find here.

Have a BYOT party.

While triathlon is an individual sport, training doesn’t have to be. Find a few friends who are willing to share some indoor sweaty time with you. I like to call it a BYOT (bring your own trainer) party. If it’s a steady endurance ride, you can find some conversation time with your partners. If you are working through a grueling interval session, you can share and pull energy from those around you who are working through the same suffer session. Some bike shops even offer indoor cycling rides. It’s worth asking if you are looking to share some motivation for training.

Find what motivates you.

I’ve ridden the trainer while watching movies or television shows, and I find that this is adequate for a basic, steady endurance ride or recovery ride. However, in order to amp up the intensity, I find that I need a different type of stimulation, which includes rocking music with a fast beat and visuals that make it feel like I’m riding outside.

Recently, John and I rode to a Lake Placid simulation from Spinervals. The DVD features Troy Jacobsen riding through the Lake Placid bike loop (56 miles). As he rides, he describes on camera about the elevation changes, suggestions for gear changing, and so on. In this manner, John and I “rode” the Lake Placid course last weekend, while listening to some great music. It was a vast improvement from watching a television show, in terms of the intensity of the workout.

Of course, there are other DVD options available. I follow @thesufferfest on Twitter, who makes some really aggressive looking cycling videos. You can find more information here. I haven’t purchased one yet, but I have watched the trailers. Woo-hoo – looks great!

What works for me won’t necessarily work for you. So experiment with music, visuals, and so on.

Track your vitals

Cadence, speed, distance, heart rate. And, if you are lucky (or rich) enough to have a power meter, throw that in the mix too. These vital signs give you a snap shot of how well your workout is meeting the goals you’ve set for it. If you don’t have devices that offer you this information, don’t despair. You can manually count your cadence and heart rate. You might not be able to log speed or distance without the tools, but I think cadence and heart rate are more important anyway. Of course, if you have the cash, I do recommend getting the technology. The basics would include a bike computer with the capacity to track cadence, and a heart rate monitor.  This technology has made my training better and I think it was worth the investment. (Note: I don’t have a power meter…yet).

While I would never opt to train indoors if I could go outdoors, indoor training is a necessary evil when the winter weather makes roads too dangerous. I hope these tips are useful – and I strongly urge you to leave more ideas. After all, we’ve got a few more weeks of winter left.

________________________________________________________________

*For those readers who may not know, an indoor trainer is a device you attach to the back wheel of your bike to create a temporary stationary bike. The picture illustrates what these look like.

Post to Twitter Tweet This Post Post to Delicious Delicious Post to Digg Digg This Post Post to Facebook Facebook

Get Adobe Flash playerPlugin by wpburn.com wordpress themes

Twitter links powered by Tweet This v1.6.1, a WordPress plugin for Twitter.