Lifetime Sprint Triathlon

I almost did not make it to this race.

You know that strained lat muscle I mentioned below?
It turned out to be a strained intercostal muscle.  Which turned out to be a pretty big deal.

I never knew this muscle existed until I hurt it - but now I know it is involved in everything.  It hurts to laugh, cough, roll over, sit up, and pick up my kids.  It hurts to breathe and hurts to sleep.  It hurts to open car doors, heavy stores doors, and the house door while also carrying 15 plastic bags of groceries.  It hurts to turn my bike.  And, mostly, it hurts to swim.

When I hit the one week mark without seeing any signs of improvement, I started to accept I would not race my last triathlon of the year.  In some ways, I did not care.  Because of my foot injury and Hood2Coast recovery, my mileage was low and my speed work was sparse.  I felt slow and sluggish.

This carried over to the bike.  In fact, my legs felt so powerless on my bicycle, I took it to see Mr. Bikeman.  "Something must be wrong with my bike", I complained.  "Maybe I need a new one."  It seemed obvious to me the best way to get out of my slump was to find myself on sleek, sexy, out-of-my-price range, TT-bike.

Mr. Bikeman was fast to say, "You absolutely do not need a new bike.  This is a great bike."

Whatever.  It is a road bike.  And it old.  And ugly.  I want a pretty bike!

"This bike would look pretty if you cleaned it more often," was his predictable response.  And then Mr. Bikeman cleaned some grime out of the cockpit and lectured me on my peddle stroke.

But, running and cycling issues aside, most of my summer was focused in the water.
When I thought about the hours, the boredom and the frustration that I invested, I cared about this last race quite a bit.  Otherwise, all those Master practices would have been for nothing.

It was not until the day before the race that I decided my injury had improved enough to endure a half-mile swim.  And even then, it was with a lack of certainty.  And after a two-week swimming hiatus, I now lacked confidence as well.

I felt so nervous getting into the lake water on race day.
I felt more nervous as I floated among the large wave of red swim caps (ladies under 40).  It was so crowded our bodies brushed together.

As always, the start was brutal.  Limbs frantically flew everywhere, including my own.  After a few minutes of chaos, I settled into a rhythm, relieved that I remembered how to swim.  But it was crowded the entire time.  It was windy and the water was choppy.  Sometimes I gasped for air and wound up with a mouthful of toxic lake water.  It became about survival.  Who cared about technique?

My swim time was 14:03, which a PR for the distance.  It was a top swim time, too, so maybe the course was long.  (I like to believe the swim course is always long).

My T1 transition was unpracticed and clunky.  My spot was in the back of the very large transition area.  It was going to be slow no matter what - so yeah, I took my time.  And  a shot of apple cider vinegar to kill the lake demons.


Eventually, I ran my bike out of transition and realized I had to run further than usual in order to mount.  The mounting spot was across the parking lot!  This added nearly a whole minute to my bike time.  But, I felt great on the bike.  The course had many very tight turns and multiple u-turns.  It was crowded, making it challenging to pass.  My overall bike time was a little slow (just shy of 35 minutes), but my cycling time (from mount to dismount) was pretty good (just under 34 minutes).  Not a PR, but also not too shabby for a road bike.

My T2 transition was less-slow than T1.  I grabbed a small electrolyte-induced water bottle for the run.  The goal was to use this water instead of the water stations.  But as soon as I started running, the water started splashing out.  It was a cheap, plastic mini-water bottle with a cheap, plastic sprout.  At about a half mile, I realized I barely had any water left.  I drank the remaining drops.

It was a beautiful day, but still September and still warm.  I was thirsty.  Since I am incapable of drinking from a cup while running, I had to stop at both water stations.

I knew by stopping twice I was not going to break 20-minutes on the run.  But, I did not know that I was in the first place female position.  What a treat to find that out as I crossed the finish line.  I won!

In most ways, I felt stoked because I like winning stuff.  Although, my kids were rather unimpressed (as usual):

and more impressed with the food, (as usual):

In another little way, I feel embarrassed because my winning time is so slow compared to other typical winning times.  It is even 75-seconds slower than my PR.  Before this race I said that I didn't feel my fastest, but I felt the most well-rounded. And that is true:  I didn't win this race by being really good in the run, I won by being equally decent at all 3 events.  And, of course, by luck.  No matter what, a win is always partially contributed to pure luck that no one faster was there.  Because at my level, there is always someone faster.  Just sometimes they are doing bigger, badder things.

Or sleeping.

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.

Weather Woes

It's pretty hard to complain about the Arizona weather in  the winter - the forecast varies from "Sunny with a Chance of Clouds"  to "Sunny with a Chance of Three Clouds."  We've been spending a lot of time outside, climbing mountains and stuff.

However, every once in awhile, the weather goes astray.  When this happens, it becomes the top story on the news and the headline of every paper:  Weather Forecast is Changes!

First, it was cold.  Maybe not cold compared to the rest of the country, but cold considering I do not own running pants and that I require a sweater for anything under 75 degrees.

If I don't own running pants, it's safe to say the kids do not own running pants so this put a damper on everyone's training.  After suffering through multiple runs that left my hands so frozen it hurt to bend my fingers, like a fool, I decided to try riding my bike.  Of course I do not own cold-weather cycling clothes, so I did my best to improvise with a hair band across my nose, fuzzy socks for leg warmers and non-fuzzy socks for arm warmers:

After the horrible cold spell, the rain clouds appeared.  Rain in Arizona usually resembles the burst of a water balloon - immediately intense but a quickly empty sky .  If it rains on a Saturday morning, you will be running or riding your bike by noon.

Except not last Saturday.  It was raining heavily when I woke up around 7am.  So, I waited.  At 9am, I was surprised that it was still raining heavily.  So, I waited some more.  By noon, it was still raining!  So, I surrendered to the sky and rescheduled my run for Sunday.

Sunday was also the big race day for the kids - but unfortunately, the rain clouds did not clear.  The race was canceled.

One thing about a missed race, or even a bad race, is that there is always another race.  The kids have an  upcoming 300-yard dash.  I remain unattached, but have a tentative 8 races planned for the next two months.

And so training continues.

After the cold front, and the rain, came the worst - the wind.

I  try not to let the elements dissuade me so on Monday, I battled the wind on bike and tackled it on Tuesday for speedwork.  The planned workout was 3 x 6 minutes @ 5K effort.  After studying the wind during my warm up, I placed myself on the cross-cut canal, which by coincidence, was hit by a cross wind.  My first 6 minutes were erroneously 5:10 (@ 6:07 pace).  It felt good.  My next 6 minutes (and 10 seconds) were at 5:59 pace.  It felt good.  My last six minutes were 5:10 again (the wind had picked up and I got tired) @ 6:07 pace again.  Ended with 2:10 x 2 (@ 5:55 pace).  So, 20:40 and 3.45  miles worth of "speed."  Better than last week and my first sub-6 mile in many months.

I wish improving in the pool was as simple as improving on my feet.  But I will save a whiny swim post for a rainy day.

Non-running Activities

Even though I kind of hope that one my kids will love running like I do, my main hope is that they just love something.  I am very lucky to have passion.  And, no matter what happens in my life, I know I have my running to make me happy.

It remains unseen what Hayden's first interest will be, but Brenna has blatantly fallen in love with ballet.  I think its a wonderful first sport since it includes her other two interests:  pink things and mirrors.

Her 30 minute dance is comprised of three components:  tap, changing shoes, and ballet.

Luckily we have all the equipment required for her to practice at home - a floor and full length mirrors:

The only problem with dancing (if she decides to take seriously once she realizes she looks good in other colors) is that it is hard on the body.   I watch Dance Moms so I know a little about it.  And, I relate to it because if anything is harder on the body than dance, it is running.

I am extremely proud to say I have managed to make it through the entire year of 2012 without a single injury. 

For a split second, I forgot why I did not get injured.

I forgot why this blog is called Twins and Triathlons, not Twins and Tons of Running.

Even though I enjoy biking and tolerate swimming, at the end of the day, I rather run.  I mean, at the end of the day, I rather run do just about anything.  I continuously and conscientiously must keep myself in check to maintain self control.  But lately, things have felt so good and have been so fun, I started to question if I wanted to do triathlons.  Why not just run?

I canceled my cycling coach and skipped my swims to frolic at South Mountain.  My heart thought it was a brilliant idea but my body thought otherwise.  Only after two weeks, my hip started to hurt.

I refuse to be sidelined so I immediately returned to my normal schedule.

I went back to hot yoga.

I went back to Masters class.

And I resumed my cycling coach.  

I am lucky that my body lets me run over 40 miles a week without injury.  I will never be an elite marathoner with that mileage but I dont even like marathons anyway!

On the bright side, it is rewarding to get better at three sports vs one sport.

Well, at least I think I am getting better at swimming?

And I think I am getting better on the bike?

At least better outside - not so much better on the rollers.  I am going to call this the Before Video because I am hopeful.  And obviously do not embarrass easily.

Nathan's Triathlon Race Report

We may as well just call this #2 and copy and paste this entry: Last years race report.

It was nearly an identical performance - which is not what I intended, considering I have spent all year practicing shorter races.  and swimming.

The swim went okay.  My ankle did not hurt although it did stiffen towards the end.
I think I did a good job sighting, the buoy was always where I expected it to be.  I bi-lateral breathed as necessary.  I was hoping to draft, but within the pandemonium of the start, I was too busy getting repeatedly kicked in the face to remember that plan.

Things were settled by the first buoy and then I did manage to catch a draft to the second buoy.  But the course is a rectangle so this really didn't help me much.

Looking back, I didn't really push myself in the swim.  It's still always less about swimming and more about surviving.

Last years swim time = 29:47.
This years swim time = 28:41.

There is rumor that the swim course was long.  This was the rumor last year, too though - although the winning swim time (by the same girl) was a whole minute longer.  But the only thing that matters is your placement out of the water - I was 31st - which means I cant retire Masters class yet.

Last years T1 = 1:48.
This years T1 = 1:54.

This transition area is quite unfair because it's really big.  Some people get to run in / out, grab their bikes and go, while others have to grab their bikes and run in / out in their cleats.  Like me.

The bike was fine.  The bike is always fine.

Last years bike = 1:08:12.
This years bike = 1:08:20.

Eh, there was wind.

I somehow acquired this fancy amino acid hydration supplement.  In my mind, since it is fancy and the bottle swears to have magical hydration effects, it is awesome.  For this reason, I save it for race day.

Mid-way through the bike, I notice my stomach starting to cramp. This is a phenomenon that plagues me in every single olympic distance triathlon.  I have blamed everything: lake water, gels, over-hydration, heat.....but yet, I have never considered that maybe, my super-cool amino acid drink was the culprit.

Feeling like an idiot for not connecting the dots, I stopped drinking.  I ended the bike less bloated but more thirsty.

Last years T2 = 1:46.
This years T2 = 1:36.

I loosened my bike shoes before getting off my bike, which was a mistake considering how far I then had to run with my bike.  Given my lack of coordination, it should be no surprise that I tripped.   BUT, luckily, my peddle caught my knee and I was able to slide on onto my bike instead of falling clumsily on my face.

It was an unintended moment of grace.

Followed by the much longer, less graceful moment of dealing with my  bib-belt.

The plan was to grab it and put it on as I left transition.

This was a plan I remembered! 

So I grabbed it.

          And I tried to put it on.                   And tried.                              And tried.

A few minutes later, it was finally on, I dashed off for my run.

But only to the first water station.

The race started late (past 7:30am) and the temperature at this point was over 90-degrees.  Not only was I thirsty, I was hot.   Very hot.

I took every cup available to me and poured them over my head.

And then I "dashed" to the next water station.  I spent probably close to 30-seconds at every water station, gulping water and pouring water over my head.  Then with soaked shoes, I sloshed to the next station.  Sometimes we look back at races and think, "well, it wasn't really that bad."

Nope, not this time - it really was that bad.  I only smiled if I saw a camera.

Last years run = 47:21.

This years run = 46:27.

I was hoping for sub-42.  On labor day, I did a 31-bike ride, bricked with 6.1 miles @ 6:45.  I really thought maybe it was doable.  And maybe it is doable, on a different day with a different heat-index. 

After the race I was bummed about it, but I more happy just to be done and in the presence of lots of water, fans, misters, and my kids.  

Final time = 2:26:30, 5th female, 3rd AG (1st AG since 2 of the top 3 were in my age group and you cant double dip.  This is one of the benefits of being in a competitive age group).  

I am going to try the olympic triathlon one more time - when its not almost 100-degrees outside.  Until then, its trail racing season so if you need me, I will be on a mountain (starting with the Estrellas in two weeks).  

Or Masters, because I just can't let swimming beat me.

Feeling Rather Beat Up.

I have not swam for a week but assuming I am still suffering from my unique swimming injury, I have more annoying aches allowing me to create quite a list.  All of them, however, are self-inflected, so I am not sure I am entitled to complain?

I shall complain anyway.

The first one was a bike accident.
It is not new news that I don't check the weather reports before embarking on a bike ride. I mean, it's Arizona.  Our weather is hot and sunny 99% of the time.

But last Tuesday, the forecast supposedly called for rain.  A lot of rain.
I discovered this factoid when I was 12 miles away from home and the rain was falling so hard that it felt like tiny needles hitting my skin.  Needless to say, I don't have a lot of experience cycling on slippery roads.  I gripped by handlebars tightly, kept my head down and gave it 100% of undivided concentration.

I was 2 miles away from home when the rain finally stopped.  I let out a huge sigh of relief, relaxed my cramped hands, and made a right hand turn.  Or, tried to make a right hand turn.  The bike did turn- onto its side.

My first thought as I hit the ground was, "OH MY GOSH, CAN I RUN??"
I did an immediate check of the knees and ankles.  Everything felt normal and I was left with just some road rash and oozy wounds, like this:

But as the day moved into the evening, my neck and back started to hurt.  I guess I tensed up when I fell and accrued some whiplash.  Despite seeing a chiropractor, by the next day, I was unable to turn my head.
Brenna was unforgiving and insisted to clinging to my neck.  We couldn't even survive a trip to the grocery store, we had to be shuffled around in a shopping cart.

(and I realize this is not the first time I have posted myself squished in a shopping cart)















I started to feel better by the weekend, right in time to take a trip to San Francisco for a wedding.  David and I enjoyed our two toddler-free nights to the fullest.  We did everything you would expect me to do.... run a lot (and get lost a little) and eat and drink.

and drink, again.

You know you are having a really fun time when you end up buying purple, sparkly converse shoes.

Although - I don't have regret buying the shoes.  I love the shoes. And a girl can never have too many pairs of purple shoes (at least according to Brenna).

But I may regret running up so many hills....so many really, really big hills.

The opportunity to go out run for as long as I want doesn't happen very often.  For the first hour, I felt fantastic. I frolicked through the city and pranced up the hills with glee.  I was giddy when I found the Golden State Bridge.

But then, I had to turn around.
And all those hills were still there.  Only they seemed a lot bigger.  And my legs felt a lot heavier.

So, with my cycling wounds still fresh and my whiplash still lingering, I got on the airplane to return home with legs overflowing with lactic acid.
Thank goodness I had brought my bright pink compression socks.
Thank goodness they match my purple shoes.

I have spent my time resting and hoping that everything repairs itself for the race this weekend.  I swore this time around that I would practice my transitions - but I have not.   I don't feel ready so I plan to do what I always do - survive the swim, mess up in transitions, take a bike ride and then run too fast the first mile.  I get a strange pleasure in the predictability.

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.

Base Building

The twins are becoming best friends.
Sometimes when I am in the kitchen making dinner, it will become eerily quiet and I will find them cuddling together on the couch.

When we do arts and crafts, they always help finish each others.

It certainly warms a mother's heart............................................................until the screaming starts.

I have a younger brother close in age so I understand the dynamic behind their relationship.  Even now that I am 30 years old, if I know something will annoy my brother, there is a 90% chance that I will do it (and a 10% chance that I will want to do it but forget).

Sometimes I cannot even bring myself to scold Brenna because if this was my brother, my foot would be glued inside that shoe as well.

Don't get me wrong, I do feel sorry for him when he is in his room, lining up his cars by color and she decides to come in and move them.  I really do!
But nothing in life is ever 100% rainbows and roses.  And that is why we ensure that we have a nice strong, solid base to support us.  As long as they are friends most of the time, then it is only to be expected that there will also be times that they fight and cry and get mad at each other.

For a runner, the summer in Arizona is always about base building.
It is too hot to run too fast so you might as well run long, right?

Although it has only be 6-weeks of forgoing my long workouts, it feels much longer.  Keeping true to my long-term goals, I am committed to spending this summer on specializing in pacing.

Today was my first long run of 11 miles.  Instead of going fast with the banditos for the first half, I went easy pace (8ish min/mile pace) with friends.  Then at the turnaround, I attempted to keep up with the banditos (7ish min/mile pace).

Yesterday was my first long bike of 50 miles.  I did not intend to do 50 miles but that is another story.
We had a Ride of Honor where multiple groups started off from multiple locations and we all met in the capitol to have a cycling rally in response to the many car/cyclist accidents that have occurred on our streets lately.

It is very hard to video tape while riding your bike.  And probably not safe.  Don't try this at home!

Rio Salado Triathlon Race Report

If you are thinking, Wow, another race?  Maybe it's too soon?
You are not alone - I was thinking that, too.

The recovery from the duathlon, as previously mentioned, was quite rough.  Even though it left me exhausted, I had trouble sleeping for days afterwards.  I felt like a zombie... not one of those freakishly fast moving zombies that are in all the newer zombie movies....but one of those old-school, really slow and stupid zombies.

Last weekend, I left for the duathlon quite stressed over normal work/life situations.  I let this happen too often - despite my desire to be chill and laid back, in my natural form, I am high-strung and easily stressed.  Nothing good ever comes from that - and although I know my duathlon fail was the result of numerous factors (poor hydration, crazy fast start, etc) - I do think that my flustered, frantic mind played a role.

After numerous nights of insufficient sleep, it was clear that I needed to do some compartmentalization in order to dig out my inner layer of "zen."   So for the last few days, I have been stopping and breathing at any sign of frustration or irritation.  I even didn't reply to an email until the next day.

I felt pretty good by this weekend, and even in the mood to race.  But, I'm using the word "race" loosely - my plan was to have a solid, smooth effort - not so much to compete.

The race didn't start out smoothly at all since I noticed a leak in my goggles as soon as I jumped in the lake.  There was not much I could do about it aside from stopping every so often to empty and adjust them.  Each time I stopped, I choked on the choppy water.  It was not fun but swimming is never fun for me.

My Stop -Fix goggles -Sprint method of swimming was exhausting and the lake water made my eyes sting.  But, it only lasted 15 minutes and 15 seconds...and once I was of the water, I put it out of mind.

At our last race, our friend Jen put her helmet on backwards.


We (lovingly) laughed at her - after all, there are only a few people who would do that.

And, um...turns out, I am also one of those few people.
I always set my transition layout at the front tire, and then rest my helmet on my handlebars.  For some reason, I put my layout at my bike tire this time.  So when I put my helmet on, it was backwards.
\
They don't let you race with your helmet backwards, FYI.

No big deal, I stopped and corrected it.  The rest of the ride was great...there was a wind so I didn't look at my pace.  Since headwinds slow you down and tailwinds speed you up, your pace at any given point is irrelevant.
I focused on drinking my electrolytes and keeping my cadence high.
Aside from dismounting too early, looking around confused, and finally realizing no one else was getting off their bike and that I needed to get back on - the bike was great.  When that happened, I could only laugh at myself.

After I dismounted at the correct place, I returned my bike and put on my left running shoe with ease.  It took two tries to get the right shoe on.

My stomach was full of lake water so I didn't feel great on the run - but I felt decent.  I picked a sustainable pace right on the edge of my comfort zone.  I didn't look at my Garmin to see the actual numbers...I knew it wasn't sub-6 or anything crazy.  At Mile 2 I am told that I am the 4th woman.  Well, that is pretty cool.

I pick off one lady in front of me - and I catch another.  I pass her but she passed me back.  I stay right behind her which basically allowed me to continue pace.
I knew I could pass her - but it would push me out of my comfort zone.
I just wasn't in the mood for pain.

She finished in second place and I finished 3 seconds later to take third.
My 5K time was 19:13 - which is totally okay with me!

I got a special wine bottle (filled with wine) and a $50 gift card for my efforts


plus a reminder to me that I cannot take myself too seriously. When I start doing that,  I stress and my success suffers.   I always have to remember Why I Run.

Sprint tri 2 weeks ago   VS    this race
swim: 15:18                           15:15                  - 3 seconds
t1:      2:52                             1:37                   - 1 min, 15 seconds
bike:   36:38 min (20.5)          34:19 (21.5)       - 2 min (but last week the course was long)
t2:      1:39                             1:24                    -15 seconds
run:     19:07                          19:13                   + 5 seconds
time:    1:15:18                       1:11:49

I didn't actually improve - I just managed to get my bike shoe on.
My friend, a professional, suggested that I come to their weekly practice...it's sometimes a track workout, sometimes a swim workout and sometimes they do mock transitions.  They do the fancy stuff where they keep their shoes on their bike.  And while I will hold on to the coach's card in consideration, even just the mere thought of me ever getting my shoes on my feet while they are attached to my bike, makes me chuckle.
I am so light-years away from that.
I still need to figure out how to put on my helmet.

Putting on the Shoes

Ever since Brenna could walk, she has been interested in her shoes.
I totally understand, who does not loves shoes?

Every day, she demands to select her own shoes. We keep the shoes on top of the play kitchen (I have no idea why). She pulls up a small chair when she wants to wear shoes. It does not matter if we not going anywhere.

It also does not matter if she is not dressed.


And nor does it matter if they are practical.


Putting on shoes is not an easy feat for a 2-year old (pun intended). She has the best luck with sandals, especially Hayden's since they are too large. Unfortunately, this means her shoes rarely match her outfit. We tried to compensate for this by painting her nails.  These feet look cute in any shoes!


And I may have gotten carried away and painted some extra feet:


With determination, she tries every day.
And although there are still some struggles,


she does eventually get it.


This made me realize that I also need to practice putting on my shoes.
If I only practice this at races, its going to take years to master the transition area.

The other day, as we were getting ready to leave my mother's house, Brenna had trouble sliding her foot in her shoe and my mother suggested a solution to her that perked my eavesdropping ears: baby powder.

If baby powder helps Brenna slide her foot into a shoe, maybe it can help me slide my foot shoe.

So my final duathlon workout focused on shoes. I set up a transition area by my front door, with my bike and running shoes laid out. And then I smothered them in baby powder.
It worked like a charm!  My foot slid and out of each shoe effortlessly.
 Here was the workout:
* 20 min bike ride to warm up. Practiced loosening my shoes while still on the bike.
* slipped off bike shoes, slipped on running shoes
* 800 (2:41 - which is a 5:25 pace, I must have been in a rush!) + .15 sprint
* slipped off running shoes, slipped on bike shoes
* 12 min bike ride. Again, practiced loosening my shoes while still on the bike.
* 1200 (4:15) + .15 sprint
* slipped off running shoes, slipped on bike shoes
* 12 min on bike. Again, practiced loosening my shoes while still on the bike.
* 800 (2:52) + .15 sprint
* slipped off running shoes, slipped on bike shoes
* slipped off bike shoes, slipped on running shoes, slipped off bike shoes, slipped on running shoes, slipped off bike shoes, slipped on running shoes...... etc etc.

PEOPLE PRACTICE THIS STUFF!

Duh, right?

This single workout isn't going to be enough to result in a perfect transition, but I do think I will be able to get my foot in my shoe this time.

Triathlon Training - The One and Only Week

I am doing a sprint triathlon on Sunday.
Sprint triathlons vary in distance - this one is a 750-meter swim, 12-mile bike ride, 5K run. 

I didn't feel the need to train for it because it is so short and my duathlon training is sufficient for the bike and run portions. 

This is my first time doing a Sprint triathlon so I don't know what to expect. Although it sounds easy on paper, shorter distances are actually not easier than their longer counterparts.  The decreased length means increased speed.  It's a different kind of challenge.

I examined the course map and I am disappointed with the run course.  Unlike the longer distances, we have the pleasure to run up a steep hill .This hill always seems to be in my races.

I used the course map to do my one training workout. The Triathlon Workout began at the course.  I was taken aback when I got out of my car to be nearly blown over by a speeding gush of wind.
The warm included 1 mile of the course, up the hill, 2 miles on trails to the canal and then the rest:
* 1.15 miles on canal "fast" (5:57 pace) - cross wind
* Headwind to my house with a 4-minute push (6:10 pace) and 70-second sprint (5:40)
* 14 mile bike ride back to car (mostly cross wind, but a little head and tail wind action)
* 1 mile on the course "fast" (5:57) - tail wind
* 800 in a headwind (3:15)
* 2x up the hill
* 1km in headwind back to car at 6:40

I felt good about the bike and the run.
And then I remembered - the swim.

750-meters is not a long swim - until you go to the pool and swim 15 laps.
I did this.  Once.

It is safe to say I will not drown.
It is also safe to say that I won't be one of the first people out of the water.

Which is fine but in hindsight, I do wish I prepared.

There really is no excuse.  I have access to a nice indoor pool that provides childcare.
And my kids like going to the childcare.
When we went, my kids walked in as if they ownded the daycare.
When I picked them up for lunch, Brenna was happy to see me.   Hayden pretended he did not know me.


But he can never ignore the promise of lunch.

I always order them the special. This week it was a hummus wrap.
It had a lot of vegetables so it was not their favorite thing, but they ate it up anyway.


Hayden ate his entire lunch holding a yellow matchbox car. I suspect you will see this in future pictures because it is not just a yellow car, it is THE yellow car. It must be in his hand at all times, including when he sleeps.


They also ate maccaroni puffs to make the meal "toddler friendly." Hayden, who tends to wear half of every meal spattered on his shirt, decided to take the  George Constanza approach to eating puffs by using a fork. 


Brenna, refusing to be out-sophisticated, followed his lead.


So we left the gym premises well-fed, slightly more refined and with the satisfaction of knowing that I went swimming because one time is better than zero times.