Looking Cool at the Pool

I am noticing some pictures no longer display correctly below, although the pictures and their paths are perfectly fine.  I guess my blog is broken.  I keep saying I am going to move it to my mom's server anyway, but then I get lazy, so I suppose this is good motivation.

You know what else is good motivation?
An awesome bathing suit.

Let me provide a brief back story:
Awhile back, I left my swim suit crumpled up in a wet ball inside my gym back.  The next day (or few days?) later, it thwarted my plan to swim when I found there.  Still in a ball.  And still very wet.

Now, we all know that I am not much a of swimmer, and ideally I use any excuse available to avoid the pool.  But, I do have moments where I convince myself that I am just strokes away from becoming a brilliant swimmer and find myself pumped up at the pool.  I must have been going through one of those phases because I was quite disappointed that my suit was wet and icky and not suitable for wearing.

I figured if I dried the bathing suit, it would get rid of some of the "ick" factor.  I knew from past experiences that putting it in the drier would ruin it.  So then I thought, "But a hair dryer would work!"  only to remember that I do not own a hair dryer.

And then I saw the space heater.

I left my bathing suit draped over the space heater and left the room....and about 5 minutes later, the space heater started beeping  very loudly and the house started to smell like burnt plastic.  It wasn't plastic though. It was my  bathing suit.

The good news is I did not burn down the house. The bad news is my bathing suit had a hole right over the nipple.

I have been known to buy some horrific bathing suits (like the padded one-piece I found on clearance at the mall that was surely meant for a 70-year old with saggy boobs vacationing in Vegas) but even I knew this bathing suit had to go in the trash.

Still determined to swim, I went to Target to score a cheap suit.  It was too close to summer though because the clearance swim suits were gone and replaced with their new "sports illustrated" line of suits. Unwilling to pay $40 for something that did not have any straps, I opted for a black bikini with boy shorts from the Girls department.  At least it had straps!!

It also had ruffles.  And a bow.

Luckily for me, after a few weeks and a few shameful swims, Coeur sports came to the rescue and provided me with a super cute, super appropriate, super comfortable bathing suit, which I just love.  LOVE.

I mean, you really have to love a bathing suit to post pictures of yourself, on the internet, in said bathing suit.

It makes me want to go to the pool.  It even makes me want to go swimming!   The pattern is really cool, too - it is made up of little foxes.  It took me awhile to realize this.  Can you see the foxes?

I promise that I am going to treat this bathing suit with respect that it deserves.

• I am not going to leave it in wet, moldy ball in my gym bag.  
• I am  not going to put it in the dryer.
• I am not going to place it on the space heater or set it on fire or run my car over it.

I am also going to fix my blog.

And lastly, I am going to swim.

Tempe International, Take Number 3

After crunching in a single yet satisfying speed workout, and 4 swims, into last week, I felt confident about this event.  After struggling in my two previous races, this was going to be THE race that did not suck.  Really, that was my main goal – not to suck.  Of course, I preferred to place overall or snag a PR, but at some point, you get desperate and just hope for a decent outcome.

There was quite of bit chatter in the morning about some out-of-state college elites that “ran a 17 minute 5K off the bike.”  They sounded stupendous, if not super-human, and dissolved any hopes I had about placing in the top 3.  But, I was okay with that – it did not affect my primary goal of not sucking.

I warmed up and, like every year, the race started late.  This year, it started an HOUR late.  As my body cooled-down, the race adrenaline started to dissipate.  And so did my motivation.

Eventually the race did start though and in the brutal swim start, I found myself awakened as I tried to swim through a sea of bodies and flailing limbs (as shown at Minute 1):


Although wetsuits were legal, it was not worth the hassle for only 400 meters.  Instead, I borrowed my friend’s neoprene speed suit.  It was less buoyant than a wetsuit but it did help a little – since I naturally sink when I swim, I need all the help I can get.  I felt like this was the first time I really raced the swim…every time I saw a pink swim cap, I pushed to pass it.  After 200 meters, I finally escaped the pack and I was actually able to swim a little.  And then, the swim ended.

YAY!!!!!!! 

We had to run up a long ramp to get to transition.  I managed to pass a few women.

But once in transition, I struggled to get the speed suit off – T1 felt like an eternity. 

But in reality, it was faster than last year:  1:03.

The first few minutes on the bike were slow.  I had a little container of apple-cider vinegar and it took some skill to remove the lid while keeping on hand on the bike.  But, I swallowed quite a bit of lake water and was relying on the vinegar to save me.

And it did!  I had not a single stomach issue, not even a single fart, for the rest of the race.

The bike was good – same course as last year.  My time was a few seconds slower but that is negligible.  It was the third fastest bike split.  I am pleased.

I rushed in T2, resulting in my best transition ever:
56 seconds.  

The run began with a long descent down a staircase.  And then up a little hill and around a corner.  Once completing these obstacles, I passed the girl I was chasing.  I passed a second girl about a half-mile later.  After that, I didn't see any other females.  I passed plenty of dudes…somewhere during Mile 2, I zoned out.  Keeping focus has been one of my racing challenges.  Last year, I had a competitor who raced me during the entire run, pushing me to run my hardest, and get the fastest female run split.  This year, I ended with the third fastest split – and a mediocre time.  There was a second staircase in the race (I do not remember that from last year?) and I am convinced the course is long – no female broke 21 minutes.  So needless to say, no one ran that alleged 17-minutes.

Final times, results and comparisons:

Swim:  Last year – 9:26 (not much training, no speed suit)

            This year – 7:15

Bike:  Last year – 33:49 (22.1 mph)

          This year – 34:02 (22 mph)

Run:  Last year – 20:26

          This year – 22:04 (ouch)

Final:  Last year – 1:05:58, 2nd overall

          This year – 1:05:26, 4th overall

I was 20 seconds away from third place – one of the downsides of a waved start is that you don't know this.  Could I have ran 20 seconds faster?  Sure.  But, I didn't.   HOWEVER, I did not suck – so I walked away with success and even more importantly, with my first PR of the year. 

It may not be a mind-blowing PR but I will take whatever I can get.

Queen of the Mountain

There are a lot of mountains in Arizona.

On a good weekend, I find myself on top of one of them.

On a great weekend, I find myself on top of multiple of them.

Saturday started off with a 4-mile trail race.  It was a small (100 participants) and free(!) event.  Aside from its price tag, there were a few other selling points:

1) Everyone was allowed to run in a test pair of trail shoes.  As many of you know, I have a thing for shoes. 

2) It was a trail system I had yet to explore.

3) The fastest woman would be named, “Queen of the Mountain.”  I have always wanted to be queen of something. 

Like most trail races, the race started with a sprint to a single-track trail.  The first mile was a slight uphill, with a little dips to keep you interested.  At Mile 2, there was sharp turn and a huge increase in grade.  The trail, a series of switchbacks, steeply continued all the way up the mountain.  When we reached the peak, the trail quickly brought us back down.  Fancy footwork was required.  

I love running up mountains and had little doubt that I would be dubbed queen.  I got a gift card but unfortunately, no royal sash.

  

"My" mountain is only a few miles away from where I grew up – although I have very little memory of that early in my life, I do recall my parents taking me hiking in the surrounding areas.  I sorta remember whining and complaining.  I also sorta remember having fun.  I definitely remember the time we climbing up a mountain and a naked man came running down.  I am so glad that my parents made me climb mountains when I was small because it helped enable me to run up mountains today.

I pay that forward to my kids, especially Hayden since he inherited my love for mountains.  Or, maybe he just loves all the dirt.  But regardless, I took him up his own mountain later that day.

The next day, I found myself on the bottom of a different mountain - in a lake, to be specific.  It was gorgeous.  At least at first glance.

But, the water was cold.  And choppy.   

It made my nose and ears hurt. It made me really dizzy.

After surviving the swim, I reluctantly remained with my group for the bike ride.  The only place to ride our bikes was on the road – up the mountain.  For 10 miles, we slowly rode our bikes up a hill that never seemed to end.  Eventually, the pavement ended instead.

I like uphills.  

But unfortunately, what goes up must come down….and I hated every second of the down hill.  At one point, I got off my bike and decided to walk.  But then I realized that would take hours.

I feel like I have the most control over my bike when peddling.  The issue on a steep downhill is peddling makes me go faster, which I know most cyclists love, but I start hyperventilating at 30mph.  I lose focus, as well as any confidence in any cycling skills that I possess.  I start to scream profanities into the wind and develop a rage for every deceiving blind curve that deludes you into thinking you are almost down.  But then you descend around the corner and discover -- you are not.  You are not even close.

My bicep starting to ache from riding my break - Who even knew that breaking required bicep strength?  My forearm hurts, too.  It hurts to type this.

This ride did confirm something I already knew about mountain though:

I love going up them.

I hate coming down.

Marquee Olympic Triathlon

As some may remember, I did the Sprint distance last year.

Last year, I struggled on the swim and did awesome on the run.

This year, I improved my swim but also drank the lake water.  After last weekend, this was my biggest fear.

Race day morning started off rather splendidly.  I fluttered around, like a little social butterfly, and did not arrive to the swim start until my wave was almost entering the water.  I saw my Dad, who had been looking for me. He held my goggles while I put on my wetsuit.  I turned so that he could zip me up only to realize my zipper was in the front.  It was backwards.

My wave started entering the water as my Dad and I frantically pulled off my backwards wetsuit.  I put it on correctly and was the last person to enter the water.  30 seconds later, we started.

Everything was fine for awhile until I noticed that some people were swimming under one section of the bridge and others were swimming under a different section.  Perhaps this was user error, but I also do not think the sighting buoys were lined up accurately.  I swam Tarzan-style while I tried to figure out where I was supposed to swim.  I eventually said, "I am so confused...." and a helpful lifeguard instructed me where to swim. A lot of people were swimming the wrong line.  You can see in this photo that everyone is on the wrong side of the yellow buoy.

 Although once I corrected my positioning, I felt like I got into a rhythm.  Even though people explained that I had to fully exhale after each breath to avoid swallowing bacteria-infested lake water, one week was enough time to enforce this new habit.  I still gasped for air.  I still swallowed.

I became more aware of my breathing style when I started belching.  While I do think I corrected it, I also think it was too late.  But I knew the best thing I could do was forget about it.

I finished the swim in 28:57 - almost an entire minute slower than last week.  But, everyone had relatively slow swim times so even though I know say this after every race, I think the course was long.  I was the 15th-20th female out of the water (out of 133).  Unlike last year, my transition was a non-issue.

The bike course was tedious.  There were six tight u-turns and at least a dozen tight corners.  There were a few hills, but a corner at the end of each down hill.  This course required as much skill as fitness.  And luckily, I have focused on this aspect of cycling with one of the best in the state.  I was amazed how everyone moved so far left before making a right-hand turn.  I used that to my advantage and passed many people by taking a shorter line.  

Last week, we did a 2-hour lesson on properly standing on your bike.  When you do this, you use your body weight to pull your bike.  Since this course had so many moments of accelerations, I was constantly standing.

The course was slightly different from last year - each loop was exactly 14 miles - the Olympic distance did the loop twice.  My pace was almost exactly the same as last year though...21.5 mph.  But, that was fast enough to be the 4th fastest bike split among the amateurs.

But, the moment I got off my bike, I felt the repercussions of my swim.  It did not feel good.

I told myself I was fine.  I really believed that I would be fine after I got things moving.

I ran the first mile okay.  The second mile was okay, too.  My stomach was really tight and crampy, but I just focused on my running form.  Mile 3 is when I started to walk.  It just hurt so bad.  Still, I did not walk often.  And then I reached Mile 4.  It totally felt like some mutant lake-seaweed baby was trying to rip my abs open.  Every few minutes I had to stop and walk.  I wanted to puke.  I wanted to fart.  I wanted ANYTHING to relieve the pain and pressure.

A little past Mile 4, I got passed by two girls.  I knew they were coming but I also knew I was in serious pain.  They both looked so graceful as they ran passed me.  I suspect that is how I looked last year when I was running 6-minute miles.  This year, I looked anything but graceful.  People quit cheering for me and instead looked at me with concern.  Even when I could see the finish line, I still could not run more than 30-seconds at a time.

I finally sprinted through the chute and collapsed, with a shameful 10K time that I don't even want to talk about.

 But, I finished.  And, placed 5th overall and first in my age group.  Nonetheless, it was humbling run.

After the race, someone advised putting a shot glass of apple cider vinegar in transition.  That way, I can gulp it immediately and supposedly, it will kill the lake bacteria.

I have always had a sensitive stomach so it does not shock me that I cannot digest duck poop, algae and decomposing dead tilapia.  It actually makes apple-cider vinegar sound like a refreshing cocktail.

1500 Meter Open Water Swim

I never thought I would do a swim race that did not reward me with a run at the end.  But unlike last year, a run was not included.  Otherwise, it was very similar:  I ran into my old best running buddy again.  The lake was gross again.  I forgot anti-fog again.

This distance was a little farther this year (1500 meters) and I was a little faster this year (27:04) but considering how much work I have put in at the pool, I am not sure I am pleased with the investment of time.

And okay, okay...maybe I have not gone to the pool that much in the past month, but I was at Masters during the winter when it was 40-degrees and raining. 

The thing is, open-water swimming is much different than pool-swimming.  When you stand in the lake on race day and peer into the distance to sight your turn-around buoy, it always looks so far away.  This course was two 750-meter laps but yet it looked intimidatingly and frustratingly far.

I am tempted to point out that the shirtless man standing a mere few feet behind me is a South African gold medal Olympic swimmer with a really awesome accent.  But anyway, I still could not believe I paid money to subject myself to swimming in this gross lake.

When spotting a camera, I managed to smile.  But even I could not make it look convincing.

My friend, who won the race in a mere 20 minutes, is also in this picture.  She claims it's "no big deal" because she has "been swimming her whole life."   When the race started, I was kicked and hit and a few bodies literally swam over me.  It was a crowded and unpleasant start for those of us not in front.  I immediately took the opportunity to blame my mother.  Maybe if she did not let me quit swim team when I was young kid, I could swim in the front with my friend.

Although, in my mother's defense, it would still have been unlikely.  I suspect my friend liked swimming when she was young.  I bet she was very good at it.  I bet she wanted to go to practice every morning.

I know I was not born to be a swimmer.  I was born to be a trail runner who dabbled in road running.  But before triathlons, I was riddled with injury all the time.  If I want to run for the rest of my life,  swimming in this gross is lake is simply what I need to do, even if I am never able to finish in 20 minutes.

After the pandemonium thinned out, I concentrated on my stroke.  Stroke Stroke breathe left - stroke stroke breathe right. Spot.  Stroke stroke breathe left - stroke stroke breathe right. Spot.  It was very boring.

But finally, I finished!  7th place, out of 42 females.  

After the race, I was horribly bloated.  It hurt to breathe.

I need to figure out how to not swallow air and water when gasping for my life.

Xterra Highs and Swimming Lows

I had the grand opportunity to work at a local Xterra triathlon.  I have done Xterra races before but my ineptness for mountain biking has kept me away from their triathlon - so I jumped at the opportunity to participate in a relay team.  It was really everything a girl could ask for...awesome people, awesome race, a few extra bucks in my pocket, and a weekend away from anything that excessively screams and/or poops.

I found myself in awe of all the other female participants.  It takes a really "cool" girl to mountain bike.  I have tried it and, well, as long as there were no rocks or bumps or major hills, I did okay.  But let's be real:  Xterra is only rocks and bumps and major hills.  Or you may have to find a way to get your bike through a knee deep puddle, or over a closed-fence, or miles of mud.  I don't think Xterra worries too much about logistics because "finding a way" is sometimes more fun than being told the way.

The run lived up to my Xterra expectations.  I blissfully flew along the course.  I didn't wear a Garmin but it was a good, well-paced effort.  I did feel like I was somewhat cheating since I did not do the 15-mile mountain bike - that feeling took the "race" out of the race and made it more into a really fun run.  However, I did pull our team from 5th place to 3rd place and had the fastest run out of all the relay teams.

My favorite part of the run was the water.

Somethings you know you are meant to do.

I know I meant to trail run.  

Somethings you know you are not meant to do.

My body has been telling me that it is not meant for swimming.  I look at it and say, "Why not? You have long arms and gigantic hands like Michael Phelps!  You should be awesome!"  

And it responds by getting injured.

I HAVE A SWIMMING INJURY.

You are probably thinking that my shoulder hurts because that is a typical swimmer's injury.  But no, it is my ankle.  My swim coach, my swim friends, and my chiropractor are all baffled at this recent injury.  And I cannot bend or twist my ankle outside of the pool in a way to trigger the pain - I must be in the water, kicking my feet, for at least 10 minutes.

In any other conditions I would be on the roof screaming, "I can run.... I can  bike....I can dance....I can do anything BUT swim!!"  Unfortunately, with my triathlon looming in just one short week, this is an anomalous occasion where I do want to swim. 

Not to mention, I have put in HOURS at the pool, swimming 5 days a week, averaging 10,000-12,000 meters per week.  For countless weeks!  

My arm hair turned blond.

My swim cap ripped from overuse.

My bathing suite is so stretched out that your kids should not be able to look.

People no longer recognize me without goggle marks around my eyes.

The hypothesis is that I am doing something wrong with my flip turns.  This does make sense because it hurts the most after I flip.  If this hypothesis is correct, then aside from my training abruptly ending two weeks too early, I will be okay in the lake.

But, if this hypothesis is wrong, then I can end up in the middle of the nasty lake with a really nasty ankle cramp.  

And, it will just confirm that I meant to be running in the mountains instead.

Pools and Potties, Part 2

Potties.
Saturday was Day 1 of the Three Day Potty training method.  As expected, Hayden was resistant.  We followed the rules in the literature that David instructed me to read.  Unfortunately, I opened it up with good intent but got hung up on the 30 pairs of underwear mandated for each child.  Who has time to read when they are frantically shopping for 60 pairs of underwear?

I had some sticker shock over the price of underwear - but between Target, Walmart and Amazon, I was able to fulfill the underwear requirement without entirely draining the bank account.

The first step to the method is to have the kids carry out all the diapers and put them in the trash.  (Of course this is wasteful and just for show).  Then, you put them in their underwear and say, "Who wants juice??"

To them, juice was water that tasted like candy.
Their minds were blown.

They guzzled sippy cup after sippy cup like college kids on spring break.  Their little bellies grew like water balloons.

"Do you have to pee?" David would ask them.
"Do you have to pee?" I would ask them.
They would shake their head, extend their hand to pass us their empty sippy cup and demand,  "More juice."

They held their pee for an impressive amount of time, but what goes in must eventually come out.  And when massive amounts go in, massive amounts come out.  I will spare you the descriptive (and dramatic) details.

Sunday was Day 2.  It is always peaceful after a storm.

By Day 3, we were back to our normal routine, except always with a towel in tow.
We went to Costco:

We went running (it was too early for Hayden to be photogenic)

I took us to see the cow just in case we had to make a pit stop.  This road already smells like poop.

We also went to the mall:

So far, accidents have been few and at home. Of course, I am knocking on wood as I type this.


Pools.
I know, it's not a very fun topic.  My apologies in advance.
I started logging my workouts two weeks ago.  I will refer to this as the beginning of training.
Week 1 included three intervals workouts (in addition to Masters and endurance workouts):
Workout #1 was 250x4.  My fastest was 4:36.
Workout #2 was 200x5. My fastest was 3:40.
Workout #3 was 100s. My fastest was 1:42.

Week 3 I revisited these intervals with the following workout:
250 x 2 - 4:21 / 4:21
200 x 2 - 3:28 / 3:23
100 x 2 - 1:36 / 1:37
200 x 2 - 3:30 / 3:30

I am not really sure what those numbers mean in regards to swimming 1500 meters in open water.  BUT, I know that 4:21 is faster than 4:36, 3:23-3:30 is faster than 3:40 and 1:36 is faster than 1:42.   This may be a new road but I think its the right direction - so far.  I am still knocking on that wood.

Pools and Potties

I realize to my kids that pools and potties are one of the same, but despite that, they are two things of top priority as far as twins and triathlons are concerned.

The twins have shown about as much excitement towards potty training as I have towards swimming.  But, it's to the point where we no longer have choices, it's time to press forward.

We have dabbled with potty training in the past.
At first, the little potties were a novelty.  They sat on them.

After about a 5 minutes, the potties were forgotten.  They were moved into a corner and collected a disturbing amount of dust.

I re-introduced potty training again as we came closer to the third birthday.  Everyone kept saying that they were old enough to understand. 

We tried pull-ups.  The first thing Brenna did was pull hers down - she definitely understood that part.

Like the potties, there was a short-lived initial novelty.  They laid on the floor as if they were testing them.

A few minutes later it was determined that a pull-up was just another kind of diaper and they had no interest.

A few more months passed and I encouraged them with a rewards chart.

Brenna made some attempts:

Hayden has taken a more lackluster approach, as evidenced by his chart.

I totally get it, there are much better things to do than sit on a toilet - like play with cars, trains and dinosaurs.

I have always had better things to do than swim - like bike, run and run more.

But even though Hayden will vehemently disagree with me, its time for us to both to just suck it up and do it.

I started first by examining my barely-existent swimming schedule.

I decided to ease into this whole swimming thing by swimming 3 days a week.

Then I added a Masters class for a 4th day.

And then I added a 5th day although this is hard, since you know, I do have a job and stuff.

I have seen some results.  My 100s have gone down from 2 minutes to 1:37-1:42.  But, I cannot swim 15 at that pace without stopping.  This has made me realize that I have a long, long road ahead of me.

I am hoping the potty-training takes a much shorter (and drier) road.

We are using a technique called Three Day Potty Training. 

I will report back but I want to ensure you that I will not:  

  1. Post pictures of poop.

  2. Post pictures of pee.

  3. Provide any description of poop or pee.

I bought each child 30 pairs of underwear and we are beginning this process tomorrow morning.  

After I go to the pool.

Three Rare Occurrences of the Week

To prevent disappointment, let me promptly clarify that in this situation, "rare" does not imply exciting or eventful.  It was a rather boring week that provided very little posting material and photo-worthy moments.

But it should be documented that Hayden spent his first FULL night sleeping in his big boy bed.  He has napped in his bed before but usually his underhanded request to sleep in his big boy bed is an attempt to actually not sleep at all.

If I agree to his "request", he will immediately lay on his bed and say, "Good night, mom."

He will close his eyes and begin to fake snore.

After about 20 seconds, he will open one eye to see if I left the room yet.

Of course, I am always still standing right there.  

Perhaps this is my fault from decorating his room with a plethora of toys.  There is a ballpit, a slide and a train table, to name off the larger items.   I find it to be a double-sided situation because I want him to play in his room - during the day. 

I don't know how you teach a three year old to resist the temptation of a train table at 2am outside of moments like this one - those created by luck:

It also deserves to be noted that I swam three days this week.

Yes, that is rare.  In fact, it may be a first.  

I was delighted to discover that the pool in which I assumed was yards, is actually a metered-pool.  This makes me substantially less slow...albeit, still slow.

I've played around with my stroke and determined that all the following combinations yield the same amount of slowness:

- bi-lateral breathing, every third stroke

- every fourth breath, right side

- every fourth breath, left side

- every second breath, right side

- every second breath, left side

 Now I am out of options and using my secret weapon last resort (aka, Olympic swimmer friend turned teacher).

The final thing worth mentioning is that David and I went out on a date.

I admit, it's a bit sad, but these date-nights are few and far between (perhaps 4 a year?)  But you have to be grateful for what you can get - I cannot complain.

The kids had no problem complaining, though.

First, Hayden brought over his sandals and announced he would be joining us:

And without missing a minute, Brenna demanded to go as well:

At that point, we understood that we were not going to get our token date photo of us canoodling and staring passionately into each other's eyes.   David put down Brenna and we dashed out the door as both kids corrupted in high-pitched, ear-shredding screams.

It was hard to feel sorry for them since they were about to go out for Mexican food with their grandparents - and I am sure it was better than the "Mexican food" that I prepare for them by hiding cauliflower puree  under the cheese of a quesadilla,  or by adding finely diced kale to their taco meat.

Rumor has it they had a very fun night and barely missed us.

Base Building - Training Your Weaknesses

I got a friendly text a few weeks ago from a former professional triathlete.  She was just not a pro, she was a great pro.  She traveled around the world and competed in the world championships multiple times.  She said she thought I had potential and offered to help me, free of charge.

I have always been tentative about coaching (remember this?) but I can get aboard anything if its free.

Like those stale, week-old cookies they give away at the grocery store before throwing them away?  I love those.  

In college, they were what sustained my once beloved cookie jar.
I do miss that cookie jar.

Anyway, the problem with coaching is that sometimes you are told things that you do not want to hear.  For example, that you have to train your weaknesses.

This is right on par with base-building and a terrific summer time activity.
The problem is that our weaknesses tend to be the stuff we enjoy the least.  For me, this is swimming.  I don't have an issue necessarily with swimming more, but with the sacrifices that are attached (specifically a reduction in my running).

This begs the question, How badly do I want it?
And, Is it even possible?  Can I be a good swimmer?

Like I tell the kids:  You never know unless you try.
So, I am going to give it a try.  Or at least try to try.

Last week I thought I suffered from heat exhaustion but it turned out that I had a mild bug (which I kindly passed along to David and my mother).  This week, I felt much better, even with the high temperatures.
I still did quite a bit of running, but not as many miles as usual.

Monday:  1 hour aerobic run.


Tuesday:  Flew to Lake Havasu for some open-water swimming.
I am not a huge fan of small planes because they give me motion-sickness and I am scared of crashing.......... but no one wanted to drive.                          
                                                                                 




I am also not a fan of Lake Havasu.  It was pretty much Yuma with the London Bridge.  (Yuma is known as the "armpit" of Arizona).

Wednesday:  1 hour run (tempo intervals) - I just can't quit it!  But, I also swam for 30-minutes non-stop and did flip-turns the entire time.  Flip turns are another weakness.

Thursday:  24-mile bike ride where I was told my gear was too high and my cadence was too low.  And, another swim!!  Again, with flip turns.

Friday: 1-hour on the indoor bike, low gear/high cadence, using my new cadence monitor.

Saturday:  90-minute progression run (12 miles).

Sunday:  35-mile group ride with lots of hills, focusing on my cadence and not my speed.  What I naturally do is go up one gear too big, which slows my cadence to 86.  When I am in slightly smaller gear, my cadence is 91.  I caught myself going into the bigger gear about a dozen times.

So that is pretty much what I was doing all week.
My kids were busy this week too - mostly just playing.

A few nights ago, David and I were sitting on the couch talking.  I looked at the clock and it was almost 8pm.  "Holy crap!" I said.  "We need to start bedtime routine!"
In the absence of my kids, I almost forgot them.
And, perhaps this their intention.  They are quite skilled when it comes to delaying bedtime.

I got up and found them in Brenna's room....each dragging their respective blankets, while doing something with a flash light and an over-sized stuffed mermaid:

Although they fight quite a bit (I had to get up four times while writing this post because Brenna kept stealing Hayden's blanket), it must be pretty cool to have a permanent playing partner.  

Every few weeks David suggests that we move them back in the same room.  Sure, this is nice in theory - but in reality, they wouldn't sleep.  They would play.  

And fight.

Because as cute as these moments are, it's only a matter of time until one of them decides to poke the other in the ear.

Selfishness, Selflessness and Swimming

I witnessed a conversation yesterday where someone commented that runners were selfish.  Without delving into too much back story, here is the gist of the situation:
   - woman has small kids
   - husband discovers running
   - husband feels entitled to run as much as he desires and is gone from his family numerous nights per week and on weekends.

Most of my friends are runners so obviously I do not agree with the blanket statement, "runners are selfish."   But, I understand the sentiment.

Running is a selfish sport.
Although perhaps on a micro-level other people benefit (i.e, it puts me in a better mood so I am more enjoyable to be around), ultimately running is only about one person: me.

I think it's okay to have a selfish hobby.
I think most hobbies are selfish.
I think we are worth doing things that bring us pleasure and fulfillment.  But the question is - at what expense?

Although I was not really part of this conversation, it is essentially what this entire blog is about:  balancing a selfish hobby with one of the most selfless things in life - motherhood.

Clearly I believe, and hopefully demonstrate, that it can be done.

But, I think the selfishness comes with entitlement.
You know how they say it takes an entire village to raise a child?
It also takes an entire village to create an athlete.
As grateful as I am to have running in my life, it would mean nothing if I did not have my behind-the-scene team.  These people would move mountains so that I could run.

I have given them a shout out before, but it's nearly a year later so I think it's time to do it again.

There is my husband who pumps up my bike tires for me every night before a ride.  I know, I know...he has dreamy eyes.


There is my mom, who watches them when I race.  We also refer to her as "G-Ma".


There is my dad, who is the best cheerleader/photographer.  And he is always coming over so that I can run, or bike.  Oh yeah, or work...I do that, too.


And of course there are my kids.  I couldn't be who I am without them.
They are always willing to sit the jogging stroller...especially if there are cheerios.
They don't mind it if I am all sweaty when I give them a hug.
And they go to the gym-daycare so that I can swim. We went for my one "pre-triathlon" token swim today - as expected, the kids were delighted.
And even more so when we ate at the cafe afterwards.
I know some toddlers are picky eaters, but mine will always eat the $4 special. Today they gobbled up pesto!


Once again, they showed-off their classy and refined etiquette by using forks:


Regality is just a bite away - we just need to work on keeping our mouth closed.

Splash and Dash Race Report

I did this race for some open-water swimming practice.
And, in general, swimming practice since I failed to make it the pool.  (Actually, I did make it the pool once but had issues with my goggles so ended up in the hot tub instead).

I've done these before, as chronicled here and here.  The number of times that I choose to swim in that nasty lake astounds me.  Usually, I tag with friends to these little races.  But not this time - I drove myself to this race and did it because I knew it was good for me.
I spend a lot of reminding little people that sometimes we have to do things we simply don't want to do.
Like wait in restaurants for our food:


Or wash our hair:


Or take a nap, eat our vegetables, blow our nose or put our feet in separate pajamas legs:


I guess I ingrained that advice in my own head because I bailed on my running friends and took myself to the lake.

Even when you go to a race alone though, you are never alone once you arrive. The first person I saw was Brian. We've been running together for 8 years.


We hung out a lot more before I had kids and he decided to an Ironman. Back then, it was about Burning Man!


Anyway,
Since my goggles have a leak, I borrowed a pair from Shelly.
She said she put in "anti-fog drops." I had no idea these existed! I just assumed that everyone had foggy glasses.
I can't say that I had fun during the swim, but it was nice to have vision.

It was still hard to spot the green buoys when going into the sun though. At one point, I had to stop and look around. I am so glad that I did though because I needed to do a major re-adjustment in order to swim in directly towards the buoy.
I am not sure if Brian's goggles were foggy, but not only did he swim past a buoy, he swam past the finish.

1000 meters took 19:47.

When you get out of the lake, you run over a timing mat. That mat separates the swim time and run time.
Then you run up a grass hill to your transition area. You peel off your wetsuit and put on your running shoes.
Everything was fine until I got to my shoes - they would not go on!
Basically, I had the same problem as I did with my bike shoes last weekend.
Wide foot + orthotic + no sock + wetness = major frustration.
Eventually, I got my shoes on - it just took 3 minutes.

I started to run.
Even though I did a slow mile before the race, I did not feel warmed up.
Mile 1 was 6:09.
But then I found my groove.  The leaders had reached the turn-around and were running back.
I recognized the first two as professionals. I was not going to catch them.
The next two though were within my reach. I passed them both - and then Lewis Elliot passed me.
I chase everyone, even professional males.
Mile 2 was 5:49.
I started to get tired after that but I occasionally looked down at my Garmin and saw a sub-6 pace. That legitimized my fatigue, which made it easier to push through.
Mile 3 was 5:57.
After a short sprint to the finish at 5:37 pace, I wound up with a major PR.

The problem here is that the documented time provided by timing-chip includes the entire transition period.
It begs the question, Is it a real PR if it's not officially recorded?
I am going to go with yes because my Garmin says so.


The distance is .04 short because I lost signal under the freeway passes. But you see the average pace.
And then I went on to run an additional 7 miles with the extraordinary Janie and got some duathlon tips from Matthew Russell.

I am so excited that next week I won't have to get wet!  I feel like I paid my dues by swimming this weekend and so now I can not swim for the rest of the week.  Yay!