At my townhome complex, there's a jazz saxophone student who lives cati-corner from our house, and whenever the weather is right, he opens his bedroom window and treats us all to a free concert (which is at least twice a week). I finished my run today as he was just warming up. I ran inside, grabbed a Gatorade and the dog, and lay down in the yard to watch the sun set to the sounds of Coltrane. Talk about the perfect way to end a day. Rusty ran around the yard digging up sticks for me to throw while I enjoyed the feeling of the cool grass on my (very) sweaty back.
I'm finally starting to regain some of my speed after being sick for so long. I'm not fully healthy again, and my training schedule definitely isn't what it was, but my workouts are starting to feel strong again. Today was helped by the fact that the sun finally, FINALLY came out after days of rain and gray and cold. Running with the sun going down in the west and Jack Johnson and Bob Marley on my iPod probably brought my pace down at least a minute a mile. My resting HR is starting to go down again, too. It was 67 when I put my monitor on today! I can't remember the last time it was that low. It's a good feeling, especially after the last couple of weeks of not taking great care of myself, and starting to feel lousy again.
I finished reading Ultra Marathon Man by Dean Karnazes, which I can STRONGLY recommend. I had started to lose a my motivation a little recently, to be honest. I used to be all about mind over matter, but the past few months have been discouraging. Never bad enough to bring me to a full stop, but some of the passion has been lacking. That book brought me back to where I was last spring when I was just starting, and I was so excited every morning to wake up and run or ride or swim or just be outside. I'd forgotten what that sheer joy was like, of being totally aware that I was doing something that most people never even allowed themselves to do, that some people weren't even ABLE to do. I'd forgotten to be excited. Karnazes's story really woke me up again, and reminded me of my passion. And, not surprisingly, rekindled my desire to eventually reach the ultra level. It definitely made me more excited for my Half Iron this summer!
And, I think, ultimately it made me enjoy my post-run high tonight a lot more. Laying in the grass with Rusty, with that smooth jazz and the sunset, was just about perfect. It would have been more perfect if Jeremy had been there, and had run with me, buuuut that will have to wait for another day...
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Saturday, May 2, 2009
The Long Ride
God I love long rides.
I'm lucky enough to be seeing the cutest ultra runner of all time at the moment, who also happens to be a pretty dang decent cyclist, so I dragged him out on my 3 hour ride yesterday. Actually, "dragged" is probably a bad choice of words. Let's just say he spent a lot of time "drafting" off of me. He rides a full carbon Bianchi. He doesn't need to draft off of my crappy aluminum Fuji. You do the math. Anyways, we took Michael's favorite Sanger loop, though we cut off a little bit at the northern most part since we took some back roads through Denton on the way out. (We had to stop briefly for me to pee behind a bush before we really got going - over-hydration...). The rolling hills in this ride are great - not really much chance to get comfortable, unless you count the stretch of chip seal or the ending stretch with the thrilling head winds. It's a perfectly challenging ride.
And thank God I live in Denton, because north of here is some beautiful cycling - especially now that it's spring. Big, green fields, open skies (mainly cloudy yesterday, but the sun broke through a good few times, which was pretty spectacular), old cemetaries, small churches, tons of cattles (all with babies right now - my girly little heart thinks it's adorable) and, of course, Texas wildflowers. The few times I lost pace were when I got distracted by the scenery - at which point Jeremy would look back like "where'd my draft go?" Which was when I knew I needed to speed up. There's something about those big Texas landscapes that make my legs spin faster and harder to get that big rush of flying through all that green and blue. I think if I lived in Dallas, I wouldn't be a cyclist. Here I walk out the door and I'm at the starting point for like 5 of my favorite routes - I'm so spoiled.
Anyways, we had an adventuresome time yesterday, mainly because I hadn't taken this route in about 3 months, and realized I'd forgotten about the names and directions of a number (and by "a number" I actually mean "all") of the side streets, and had to be guided only by my impeccable sense of direction. (Which is actually neither impeccable or even something that I personally put any faith in, so we were guided by sheer dumb luck, which apparently is surprisingly effective). Fortunately, we both kind of enjoy adventure, and worse things have happened then getting lost. If we needed directions, we had a fit girl in spandex to get them (Jeremy, of course, would have had to hide with his bike behind a bush) and, well, if worst came to worst there are always gas stations with telephones. And GU. So we used our finely honed cycling instincts to reinvent the old route and still get back to home base in almost exactly 3 hours (stops not included - and there was almost a pizza stop, but we refrained).
I started out a little weak, but after about an hour warmed up and fell into a great rhythm. My legs felt good. We maintained, and possibly even exceeded my original goal of 15 miles an hour. It would have been more if I'd been on the S-Works, but since being sick I don't try to ask a whole lot of myself when I'm on the Fuji (for those of you who don't know, it's a $600 entry-level road bike about 4 centimeters too big for me). I might be slower on that bike, but I sure love training on it. It just feels comfortable now, even though it really is too big for me. I'm about to order some new, woman specific (i.e. more compact) handlebars, which I think will make it absolutely perfect. It also absorbs all that shock that that pesky S-Works makes me feel!
I've got another 3 hour ride tomorrow, which will be immediately followed by a 30 minute run. Can you say BSLT practice? I haven't decided if I'm going to do the first 2 hours with the Bicycle Path or not - I don't particularly like their route because there's too much traffic and really not that many hills. Hill Top ceased entirely to be impressive after Lubbock. You know, I have to admit, I never thought I would be saying "there's not enough hills..."
I'm lucky enough to be seeing the cutest ultra runner of all time at the moment, who also happens to be a pretty dang decent cyclist, so I dragged him out on my 3 hour ride yesterday. Actually, "dragged" is probably a bad choice of words. Let's just say he spent a lot of time "drafting" off of me. He rides a full carbon Bianchi. He doesn't need to draft off of my crappy aluminum Fuji. You do the math. Anyways, we took Michael's favorite Sanger loop, though we cut off a little bit at the northern most part since we took some back roads through Denton on the way out. (We had to stop briefly for me to pee behind a bush before we really got going - over-hydration...). The rolling hills in this ride are great - not really much chance to get comfortable, unless you count the stretch of chip seal or the ending stretch with the thrilling head winds. It's a perfectly challenging ride.
And thank God I live in Denton, because north of here is some beautiful cycling - especially now that it's spring. Big, green fields, open skies (mainly cloudy yesterday, but the sun broke through a good few times, which was pretty spectacular), old cemetaries, small churches, tons of cattles (all with babies right now - my girly little heart thinks it's adorable) and, of course, Texas wildflowers. The few times I lost pace were when I got distracted by the scenery - at which point Jeremy would look back like "where'd my draft go?" Which was when I knew I needed to speed up. There's something about those big Texas landscapes that make my legs spin faster and harder to get that big rush of flying through all that green and blue. I think if I lived in Dallas, I wouldn't be a cyclist. Here I walk out the door and I'm at the starting point for like 5 of my favorite routes - I'm so spoiled.
Anyways, we had an adventuresome time yesterday, mainly because I hadn't taken this route in about 3 months, and realized I'd forgotten about the names and directions of a number (and by "a number" I actually mean "all") of the side streets, and had to be guided only by my impeccable sense of direction. (Which is actually neither impeccable or even something that I personally put any faith in, so we were guided by sheer dumb luck, which apparently is surprisingly effective). Fortunately, we both kind of enjoy adventure, and worse things have happened then getting lost. If we needed directions, we had a fit girl in spandex to get them (Jeremy, of course, would have had to hide with his bike behind a bush) and, well, if worst came to worst there are always gas stations with telephones. And GU. So we used our finely honed cycling instincts to reinvent the old route and still get back to home base in almost exactly 3 hours (stops not included - and there was almost a pizza stop, but we refrained).
I started out a little weak, but after about an hour warmed up and fell into a great rhythm. My legs felt good. We maintained, and possibly even exceeded my original goal of 15 miles an hour. It would have been more if I'd been on the S-Works, but since being sick I don't try to ask a whole lot of myself when I'm on the Fuji (for those of you who don't know, it's a $600 entry-level road bike about 4 centimeters too big for me). I might be slower on that bike, but I sure love training on it. It just feels comfortable now, even though it really is too big for me. I'm about to order some new, woman specific (i.e. more compact) handlebars, which I think will make it absolutely perfect. It also absorbs all that shock that that pesky S-Works makes me feel!
I've got another 3 hour ride tomorrow, which will be immediately followed by a 30 minute run. Can you say BSLT practice? I haven't decided if I'm going to do the first 2 hours with the Bicycle Path or not - I don't particularly like their route because there's too much traffic and really not that many hills. Hill Top ceased entirely to be impressive after Lubbock. You know, I have to admit, I never thought I would be saying "there's not enough hills..."
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Ok Ok Ok
I know. It's update time. Why haven't I written about the Lone Star Quarter race last Sunday. Because I've been dreading writing this post.
I didn't get to race last Sunday. After another week of feeling sick, I wasn't able to. I was... well, frustrated doesn't really even begin to describe how I felt, but I guess it's a start. I got to race site, checked in, set up in transition, went for my 10 minute warm-up run... and thought I was going to pass out. Never a good idea to hop in the water for a 1000m swim at that point. But I was angry and sad - and extra angry because we finally, finally, FINALLY (did I mention finally?) figured out why I've been so sick these past 2 and half months.
I had mono. Back in January - only it didn't look like mono because I didn't have the fever, sore throat, etc., so no one diagnosed me with it - or even bothered to check me for it. Had I known it was mono, I could have taken the proper time off and rested and taken care of myself, and I would probably be much better now. Now that I know what I need to do to take care of myself, I probably WILL start getting better, but the last couple of months aren't going to make it any easier. My coach and doctor have been amazing and are doing everything possible to make sure I get to complete the rest of my racing season as scheduled (though, obviously, big goals like medaling are on the back burner now - it's all practice at this point, working towards the fall season, or possibly even next spring). My big rule is basically to just have the most boring life possible, with the exception of yoga, training and racing. 10-12 hours of sleep a day (more if needed), healthy, healthy food and a ton of supplements, absolutely no alcohol (none, nada, zilch, not even a sip), no late nights, nothing that will cause large amounts of stress. Basically I live for triathlon, which maybe is good practice but STILL. What's really frustrating is that, really, it was a pretty mild case of mono. The fact that I was able to place in multiple races during that time is proof of that - which means that really, if I had known what was going on, two weeks off probably could have had me healthy and good to go again. Instead, I lost two and a half months.
But now I'm done complaining. The good news is - I'm feeling really good right now. I spent the last week resting - really resting. All I did was a couple of Yin and restorative yoga classes. And I slept a lot. And ate really healthy foods. And drank a lot of water. And took all my supplements. And now, I'm ready to head home and start easing back into training, bearing in mind all I've learned this past week about what's going on with my body. If I keep being smart, I shouldn't have to miss anymore races - which is good, because Nationals is next weekend, and while I know I'm not going to be turning any heads at that race, it would kill me to have to miss it.
I hope everyone had a happy (if somewhat wet) Easter. I head back to Denton tomorrow to deal with everything that piled up while I was escaping this past week. But I will not stress about it! Because I'm not allowed to. I'm just going to be excited about Nationals next weekend. And I AM excited. And if you hear me say ANYTHING on here about alcohol, feel free to reprimand me.
I didn't get to race last Sunday. After another week of feeling sick, I wasn't able to. I was... well, frustrated doesn't really even begin to describe how I felt, but I guess it's a start. I got to race site, checked in, set up in transition, went for my 10 minute warm-up run... and thought I was going to pass out. Never a good idea to hop in the water for a 1000m swim at that point. But I was angry and sad - and extra angry because we finally, finally, FINALLY (did I mention finally?) figured out why I've been so sick these past 2 and half months.
I had mono. Back in January - only it didn't look like mono because I didn't have the fever, sore throat, etc., so no one diagnosed me with it - or even bothered to check me for it. Had I known it was mono, I could have taken the proper time off and rested and taken care of myself, and I would probably be much better now. Now that I know what I need to do to take care of myself, I probably WILL start getting better, but the last couple of months aren't going to make it any easier. My coach and doctor have been amazing and are doing everything possible to make sure I get to complete the rest of my racing season as scheduled (though, obviously, big goals like medaling are on the back burner now - it's all practice at this point, working towards the fall season, or possibly even next spring). My big rule is basically to just have the most boring life possible, with the exception of yoga, training and racing. 10-12 hours of sleep a day (more if needed), healthy, healthy food and a ton of supplements, absolutely no alcohol (none, nada, zilch, not even a sip), no late nights, nothing that will cause large amounts of stress. Basically I live for triathlon, which maybe is good practice but STILL. What's really frustrating is that, really, it was a pretty mild case of mono. The fact that I was able to place in multiple races during that time is proof of that - which means that really, if I had known what was going on, two weeks off probably could have had me healthy and good to go again. Instead, I lost two and a half months.
But now I'm done complaining. The good news is - I'm feeling really good right now. I spent the last week resting - really resting. All I did was a couple of Yin and restorative yoga classes. And I slept a lot. And ate really healthy foods. And drank a lot of water. And took all my supplements. And now, I'm ready to head home and start easing back into training, bearing in mind all I've learned this past week about what's going on with my body. If I keep being smart, I shouldn't have to miss anymore races - which is good, because Nationals is next weekend, and while I know I'm not going to be turning any heads at that race, it would kill me to have to miss it.
I hope everyone had a happy (if somewhat wet) Easter. I head back to Denton tomorrow to deal with everything that piled up while I was escaping this past week. But I will not stress about it! Because I'm not allowed to. I'm just going to be excited about Nationals next weekend. And I AM excited. And if you hear me say ANYTHING on here about alcohol, feel free to reprimand me.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Galveston in 2 days!!!
I can't believe the Lone Star festival and my first Quarter Iron are just days away - I leave for Galveston on THURSDAY! Milestones like this always make me think back to the days before I did triathlons, when I spent every afternoon and evening vegging on my couch, or on my boyfriend's couch. I'm such a different person now. The thought of going an entire day without any kind of activity makes me cringe. I want to be outside, moving around, taking advantage of the fact that I have the full use of my body. This has been tested many, many times in the past months as I've been sick and/or injured. There were so many times I could have thrown in the towel, said "I just don't think this sport is for me," and walked away without anyone thinking less of me - or me thinking less of myself. But I guess I'm just in too deep! Too addicted. I have yet to find anything that can beat a 2 hour bike ride in 70 degree, sunny weather with light winds. It's better than... well, you know. Sorry guys.
We've got all our team plans finalized for this weekend. 7 of us will be staying at my mom's home on the Strand on the north side of the island. We have bike storage under control, as well as food and bed space. Saturday night we're going to join the folks from beginnertriathlete.com for a pre-race dinner for those doing the Quarter and Half (post-race for those doing the sprint). I'm driving down early on Thursday after my brick workout to spend some quality time with my mom before the whole crew arrives. Maybe I'll get in some yoga at our studio there, too, while we're at it...
I picked up Tex from the shop today, he looks shiny, happy, and ready to race. The rear cassette has been adjusted, so gears shouldn't be slipping anymore (though I will definitely be trying him out before I leave town to make sure). Gary gave the tri team a little extra donation while I was there as well - thanks Bicycle Path! I tried out the new racesuit in the pool last night, and it felt pretty good. I'm going to practice doing transitions in it a little later today. It LOOKS good for sure!!! We're finally going to look like a "real" triathlon team. Go Mean Green!
We've got all our team plans finalized for this weekend. 7 of us will be staying at my mom's home on the Strand on the north side of the island. We have bike storage under control, as well as food and bed space. Saturday night we're going to join the folks from beginnertriathlete.com for a pre-race dinner for those doing the Quarter and Half (post-race for those doing the sprint). I'm driving down early on Thursday after my brick workout to spend some quality time with my mom before the whole crew arrives. Maybe I'll get in some yoga at our studio there, too, while we're at it...
I picked up Tex from the shop today, he looks shiny, happy, and ready to race. The rear cassette has been adjusted, so gears shouldn't be slipping anymore (though I will definitely be trying him out before I leave town to make sure). Gary gave the tri team a little extra donation while I was there as well - thanks Bicycle Path! I tried out the new racesuit in the pool last night, and it felt pretty good. I'm going to practice doing transitions in it a little later today. It LOOKS good for sure!!! We're finally going to look like a "real" triathlon team. Go Mean Green!
Monday, March 30, 2009
It's 6:15 in the morning, and I've been up since 4:30. I don't need to be awake for another hour and a half. Needless to say, my sleep schedule is pretty much shot.
This past weekend was an adventure - and not really the fun kind, though the videos of Mandy playing with gloves in the ER while threatening to give me steroid shots in my butt may just have been worth it. But only just. The clencher was really when she tried to do shadow puppets with the X-Ray viewer.
Ok, back up. So if you haven't been able to tell from my previous posts, this winter has been... stressful. To put it mildly. Horrible allergies, mono, sinus infections, wrecked bikes, knee problems, screwed up training plans... It's been rough. Especially the being sick part because I've never really been that "sick" person before. Typically I have an excess of energy and basically want to do everything. But no more... Granted, the mono was probably the kicker for everything else. I hear it's pretty serious stuff. And it probably would have been better if I'd realized that I had it instead of training through it. Which is probably why I've been sick on and off ever since.
So anyways, things sort of came to a head this weekend. On Friday, the cold front from the seventh circle of Hell blew in, and the sinus pressure in my head started to get crazy bad, until it wasn't just my sinuses, it was pretty much my entire face. I was more fatigued than I'd ever been, and my stomach felt kind of... weak. Somehow, I managed to get through that day, and figured if I could just get a good night's sleep I'd be able to be back at it on Saturday. Wrong. woke up Saturday to the same pressure - my temples were throbbing, and it felt like someone had placed a weight on the middle of my face that was slowly sinking down towards the back of my head. Time to go to the doctor! I've never really had headaches before, but I knew I couldn't deal with this for another day. The doctor tentatively diagnosed me as having TMJ, which means I grind my teeth when I sleep. Only problem with this diagnosis - I'm a mouth breather. Which means my mouth is open when I sleep. Real problem? I've been so freaking stressed out the past two months, I've started tensing up my jaw muscles whenever some stressful situation arises. They were going in overdrive, and finally gave out. Regardless, the doc gave me an anti-inflammatory shot, and Mandy and Andrew had to come get me because I was 100% knocked out. Doctor told me if I woke up in 6 hours and wasn't better, I needed to high-tail it to the ER for a CT Scan. Fantastic.
Fast forward 6 hours... headache still not better. Call Mandy, drive to ER. The ER is packed. We camp out in the farthest end of the waiting room until I'm finally called back. I get my own room (yay), and Mandy and I entertain ourselves with her Flip video camera until the doctor comes. He doesn't do a CT Scan. I describe my symptoms, he tells me it's still allergies, and prescribes even MORE medicine, including a new antibiotic because lo-and-behold apparently I still have an infection. Which isn't really surprising. Then he tells me a nurse is going to come in shortly and give me a shot to at least do away with some of the misery for that night. 2 hours later, nurse finally comes. I've fallen asleep, and Andrew has shown up, and Mandy is waiting with him back in waiting room. After I finally get the shot, the nurse then says I have to wait 20 minutes before I can leave. 35 minutes later, I page her, say please can I go home, and they finally, FINALLY let me leave. I go home and pass out. So yesterday was interesting. I definitely wasn't feeling my best, but my head was a lot less painful, and I got all the new allergy medicine, and actually managed to get out for a bit. Did 45 minutes on the bike, but e-mailed Aaron and told him it would probably be a few days before I "trained" again. My body needs a break, and it hasn't really had one since I got sick in January - not longer than two days, anyways, and I'm determined to give it three this time.
Coming back from sickness used to not be a big deal, because it wasn't like I was really doing anything strenuous. Now, though, it's more challenging. I have to really listen to my body and know its limits. Something I've never been great at. But I can't have any more weekends like this. Even if that means I'm not competitive like I wanted to be this season. There are more important things, and I know if I'm not careful that triathlon will start feeling like a chore instead of an obsession. It's teaching me to put my Type A personality aside and remember that I train because I ENJOY it. I'm not on the Olympic team. I'm not a pro. I'm just someone who enjoys the lifestyle - but the only way to enjoy the lifestyle is to stay healthy!
So my focuses for this week are: drink tons of water (fancy Penta water, mmm), take all my medicine, SLEEP (didn't work out last night, but I know I'll be ready for it tonight!), rest rest rest from training (walking and easy freestyle, at the most), eating healthy, taking my supplements, not stressing out and getting all tense. Let's see if I can actually manage to DO all of this!
This past weekend was an adventure - and not really the fun kind, though the videos of Mandy playing with gloves in the ER while threatening to give me steroid shots in my butt may just have been worth it. But only just. The clencher was really when she tried to do shadow puppets with the X-Ray viewer.
Ok, back up. So if you haven't been able to tell from my previous posts, this winter has been... stressful. To put it mildly. Horrible allergies, mono, sinus infections, wrecked bikes, knee problems, screwed up training plans... It's been rough. Especially the being sick part because I've never really been that "sick" person before. Typically I have an excess of energy and basically want to do everything. But no more... Granted, the mono was probably the kicker for everything else. I hear it's pretty serious stuff. And it probably would have been better if I'd realized that I had it instead of training through it. Which is probably why I've been sick on and off ever since.
So anyways, things sort of came to a head this weekend. On Friday, the cold front from the seventh circle of Hell blew in, and the sinus pressure in my head started to get crazy bad, until it wasn't just my sinuses, it was pretty much my entire face. I was more fatigued than I'd ever been, and my stomach felt kind of... weak. Somehow, I managed to get through that day, and figured if I could just get a good night's sleep I'd be able to be back at it on Saturday. Wrong. woke up Saturday to the same pressure - my temples were throbbing, and it felt like someone had placed a weight on the middle of my face that was slowly sinking down towards the back of my head. Time to go to the doctor! I've never really had headaches before, but I knew I couldn't deal with this for another day. The doctor tentatively diagnosed me as having TMJ, which means I grind my teeth when I sleep. Only problem with this diagnosis - I'm a mouth breather. Which means my mouth is open when I sleep. Real problem? I've been so freaking stressed out the past two months, I've started tensing up my jaw muscles whenever some stressful situation arises. They were going in overdrive, and finally gave out. Regardless, the doc gave me an anti-inflammatory shot, and Mandy and Andrew had to come get me because I was 100% knocked out. Doctor told me if I woke up in 6 hours and wasn't better, I needed to high-tail it to the ER for a CT Scan. Fantastic.
Fast forward 6 hours... headache still not better. Call Mandy, drive to ER. The ER is packed. We camp out in the farthest end of the waiting room until I'm finally called back. I get my own room (yay), and Mandy and I entertain ourselves with her Flip video camera until the doctor comes. He doesn't do a CT Scan. I describe my symptoms, he tells me it's still allergies, and prescribes even MORE medicine, including a new antibiotic because lo-and-behold apparently I still have an infection. Which isn't really surprising. Then he tells me a nurse is going to come in shortly and give me a shot to at least do away with some of the misery for that night. 2 hours later, nurse finally comes. I've fallen asleep, and Andrew has shown up, and Mandy is waiting with him back in waiting room. After I finally get the shot, the nurse then says I have to wait 20 minutes before I can leave. 35 minutes later, I page her, say please can I go home, and they finally, FINALLY let me leave. I go home and pass out. So yesterday was interesting. I definitely wasn't feeling my best, but my head was a lot less painful, and I got all the new allergy medicine, and actually managed to get out for a bit. Did 45 minutes on the bike, but e-mailed Aaron and told him it would probably be a few days before I "trained" again. My body needs a break, and it hasn't really had one since I got sick in January - not longer than two days, anyways, and I'm determined to give it three this time.
Coming back from sickness used to not be a big deal, because it wasn't like I was really doing anything strenuous. Now, though, it's more challenging. I have to really listen to my body and know its limits. Something I've never been great at. But I can't have any more weekends like this. Even if that means I'm not competitive like I wanted to be this season. There are more important things, and I know if I'm not careful that triathlon will start feeling like a chore instead of an obsession. It's teaching me to put my Type A personality aside and remember that I train because I ENJOY it. I'm not on the Olympic team. I'm not a pro. I'm just someone who enjoys the lifestyle - but the only way to enjoy the lifestyle is to stay healthy!
So my focuses for this week are: drink tons of water (fancy Penta water, mmm), take all my medicine, SLEEP (didn't work out last night, but I know I'll be ready for it tonight!), rest rest rest from training (walking and easy freestyle, at the most), eating healthy, taking my supplements, not stressing out and getting all tense. Let's see if I can actually manage to DO all of this!
Friday, March 27, 2009
Taos (Part two)
So Monday night Eddie and I get nice and drunk, and meet this not-gay male couple from Dallas. We weren't sure what exactly was going on there, but we weren't about to ask. One was Irish and apparently married... but we just got a vibe. Interesting. Anyways, the other guy was an avid cyclist, so he and I talked tri's and crit's for a good hour or so, me getting progressively drunker. Finally, Eddie and I left, downed a bunch of vodka and Sprite at the hotel, and crashed out watching Role Models (classic cinema, in case you haven't caught it yet).
Tuesday was our first day to hit the slopes. I love traveling with other people who are independent like I am, because I hate having to feel guilty for wanting to do my own thing. Which I often want to do. Granted with Eddie I wouldn't have minded having him along for the snowshoeing because he's one of the few people I feel "gets" me and wouldn't be a bad hiking partner... but all the same, getting to go off by my own up the mountain was an amazing experience. That being said, the snowshoes looked a little intimidating to me at first!! Giant vinyl soles with big metal spikes on the bottom? Eek. Looked a little hardcore. I got a cursory explanation on what to do with them from the rental guy, but he was more concerned with the snowboard and ski renters so it was pretty much figure it out myself.
I managed to find the trail - Bull of the Woods - up towards Wheeler Peak, and proceeded to strap on the shoes. They looked complicated, but were actually easy enough to get on. Kind of like Chacos for the snow. Once I did get them on, though, I was definitely a little freaked out! Going uphill on the snow was a new experience for this Texan girl, and the first part of the trail was pretty dang steep! But wow, was it beautiful. There were little rivers and huge, beautiful fir trees all along the path, and the higher I went the thicker and cleaner the snow drifts got. No one else was out there - I understood why the ski instructor I talked to said I was "brave" for trying the snowshoeing thing out on my own. But it wasn't frightening, even though it isn't every day I scale the side of a mountain. It was just really peaceful and quiet and still and totally different from the vibe on the slope over with all the lifts. I made it about halfway up the trail that first day, and practiced a little bit with the "real" snowshoeing - venturing off the trail and out onto the drifts. It wore me out way more than expected. That night, Eddie and I found an amazing restaurant down near our hotel, and ate a huge dinner with good wine... then went back and crashed. Between the sun and the altitude and the exercise, we were done. Normally the two of us can talk for hours, but after the first night, we didn't do much talking on this trip.
Day two of snowshoeing was even more phenomenal. I made it to the top of trail, and the views were spectacular. I could have gone all day, if I hadn't known Eddie was waiting for me when he was done snowboarding. The weather was perfect - clear blue skies, 65 degrees, dry. And the snow kind of took all the sun and threw it back at you so everything was just bright and clean looking. By the time I was halfway up the slope, I'd stripped down to my base layer tank and sports bra and tied everything else to my pack. I got some solid tan lines that day.
I love hiking because it's good thinking time. When you're all alone with yourself and creation and you've got that great mental and spiritual focus that comes from physical exercise, you can really get some mental clarity. I'm always more peaceful when I'm out in the woods or on the trails by myself - it's like the part from that Lord Byron poem:
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods
A rapture in the lonely shore
There is society where none intrudes
But the deep sea and the ocean with it's roar
I love not man the less but Nature more
...Or something like that. It kept coming to me the whole time I was making my way up towards Wheeler Peak. It reminded me why I'll always have to live close to some place where I can be away from everybody. I didn't want to leave. I wanted to go back to the rental place and ask if they were hiring anyone to lead snowshoe tours. I could find a cheap apartment to stay in. Forget the MA. I'm tired of school.
Eddie and I fell asleep watching Fool's Gold that night. It was lazy and nice.
We wandered around town a little on Thursday morning and then hit the road. I'm tired of typing now so I'll gloss over the trip home. It was good. There's not many people I can spend ten hours in a car with.
I'm already ready to go back. Who wants to visit New Mexico this summer?
Tuesday was our first day to hit the slopes. I love traveling with other people who are independent like I am, because I hate having to feel guilty for wanting to do my own thing. Which I often want to do. Granted with Eddie I wouldn't have minded having him along for the snowshoeing because he's one of the few people I feel "gets" me and wouldn't be a bad hiking partner... but all the same, getting to go off by my own up the mountain was an amazing experience. That being said, the snowshoes looked a little intimidating to me at first!! Giant vinyl soles with big metal spikes on the bottom? Eek. Looked a little hardcore. I got a cursory explanation on what to do with them from the rental guy, but he was more concerned with the snowboard and ski renters so it was pretty much figure it out myself.
I managed to find the trail - Bull of the Woods - up towards Wheeler Peak, and proceeded to strap on the shoes. They looked complicated, but were actually easy enough to get on. Kind of like Chacos for the snow. Once I did get them on, though, I was definitely a little freaked out! Going uphill on the snow was a new experience for this Texan girl, and the first part of the trail was pretty dang steep! But wow, was it beautiful. There were little rivers and huge, beautiful fir trees all along the path, and the higher I went the thicker and cleaner the snow drifts got. No one else was out there - I understood why the ski instructor I talked to said I was "brave" for trying the snowshoeing thing out on my own. But it wasn't frightening, even though it isn't every day I scale the side of a mountain. It was just really peaceful and quiet and still and totally different from the vibe on the slope over with all the lifts. I made it about halfway up the trail that first day, and practiced a little bit with the "real" snowshoeing - venturing off the trail and out onto the drifts. It wore me out way more than expected. That night, Eddie and I found an amazing restaurant down near our hotel, and ate a huge dinner with good wine... then went back and crashed. Between the sun and the altitude and the exercise, we were done. Normally the two of us can talk for hours, but after the first night, we didn't do much talking on this trip.
Day two of snowshoeing was even more phenomenal. I made it to the top of trail, and the views were spectacular. I could have gone all day, if I hadn't known Eddie was waiting for me when he was done snowboarding. The weather was perfect - clear blue skies, 65 degrees, dry. And the snow kind of took all the sun and threw it back at you so everything was just bright and clean looking. By the time I was halfway up the slope, I'd stripped down to my base layer tank and sports bra and tied everything else to my pack. I got some solid tan lines that day.
I love hiking because it's good thinking time. When you're all alone with yourself and creation and you've got that great mental and spiritual focus that comes from physical exercise, you can really get some mental clarity. I'm always more peaceful when I'm out in the woods or on the trails by myself - it's like the part from that Lord Byron poem:
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods
A rapture in the lonely shore
There is society where none intrudes
But the deep sea and the ocean with it's roar
I love not man the less but Nature more
...Or something like that. It kept coming to me the whole time I was making my way up towards Wheeler Peak. It reminded me why I'll always have to live close to some place where I can be away from everybody. I didn't want to leave. I wanted to go back to the rental place and ask if they were hiring anyone to lead snowshoe tours. I could find a cheap apartment to stay in. Forget the MA. I'm tired of school.
Eddie and I fell asleep watching Fool's Gold that night. It was lazy and nice.
We wandered around town a little on Thursday morning and then hit the road. I'm tired of typing now so I'll gloss over the trip home. It was good. There's not many people I can spend ten hours in a car with.
I'm already ready to go back. Who wants to visit New Mexico this summer?
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Taos (Part One)
This past week has been quite the adventure... When people ask me what my interests and/or hobbies are (which isn't often, but I like it when they do, because let's face it everybody likes to talk about themselves), I always tell them triathlons, music, writing, and making spontaneous life choices. Spontaneous life choices possibly being my favorite item on the list. Of course, there's this whole American obsession with work ethic that has become an obsession with 9-5, Monday through Friday jobs that give you maybe one to two weeks vacation a year for your first, say, five years on the job. Now, I don't want to dismiss the endeavors of those who are dedicated to their professions. I appreciate these people because, well, being able to focus so diligently on one thing 50 weeks out of the year is, quite frankly, impressive. It's an idea that as a young, occasionally reckless, and at times flighty young adult in my early twenties, I have yet to fully grasp. Because I always wonder... don't they get bored? I think we all know (or at least, I hope we all know) that we are the only country that works its white collar laborers to the extent that we do. Our pre-disposition for pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps has allowed the executive powers that be to milk those under them for every available drop of stamina and mental energy that they can squeeze out. And what's really interesting is that we don't see it as such. We just see it as "work" - it's work, it's not necessarily supposed to be fun. Ok, so tell me this. What's the point? You're born, you work, you die. Sure, some work is necessary to fairly provide for yourself and your family. Agreed. But past that... ? And if we say for the benefit of society... what's the benefit? New inventions and toys? Are they really helping us? Or are we earning loads of money to give away to third world countries and starving American children?
Anyways, all that to say, the thought of being tied down in such a job terrifies because it would totally hinder my ability to make the aforementioned spontaneous life choices. Like I did this past week. I have a new best friend - his name is Eddie and, well, he's awesome. You know when you find one of those people you just click with? And not necessarily in an opposite-sex-I-want-to-be-all-over-you-ASAP kind of way, but in a I-feel-like-you-already-know-me-and-I-know-you kind of way. Well, that was Eddie. We have lots in common, our mutual love for nature being high on the list. I met him through a sorority sister, and I guess the rest is history (if you can consider two weeks ago history). Anyways, Eddie and I bonded over a Grand Canyon IMAX feature and then he asked if I wanted to go to Taos, NM with him the next week while I was on Spring Break (not that Spring Break means too very much in graduate school, but the mental connotations still linger from undergraduate days), and explore the mountains and the town with him. Well, duh. So I e-mailed my coach, who sent the welcome response that he had scheduled that to be a recovery week anyways, but some base layers and warm socks, and packed my things for an adventure.
Now, I love triathlon. Those of you who know me... You know this. Obviously. It's a love that borders on obsession. But the past couple of months, so much has been going wrong, and I feel like I haven't been able to make the kind of progress that I want to be making, and that every time things start to look up, some other crisis occurs... and so it never gets better. It's made training difficult at times. When it feels like I'm working just to stay in the same place. and that's the thing - training has started to feel like work, when it never has before. It's not always - most of the time I'm still thrilled to hit the road/trail/pool for a good workout. But there have been days where I just... haven't.
(I'm going to take a moment to comment on the fact that I just got up to get a refill on hot water here at Jupiter House where I'm typing, and just had the cutest kid ever literally trip and fall right and front of me, and I'm almost positive his family, including the incredibly good looking guy next to them are going to think I knocked him over. Fantastic.)
So anyways, there's been a little bit of strain on my usually positive attitude towards training that's left me feeling like I was on the edge of a rut. I figure this is probably a pretty common experience among anyone who does anything obsessively for long enough. I'm sure that it's been apparent in my blogs as I've griped about broken bikes, hurting knees, and chronic sinus infections. And it's become increasingly apparent to me. So when the opportunity for spontaneous adventure arose, it seemed the only thing to do was grab it and hope for some soul renewing in the Rockies.
Our plan was to leave Sunday night, and drive all night, arriving at Taos early Monday morning and exploring the town and Ski Valley until we could check into our hotel and crash for a couple of hours before going to get unashamedly and utterly irresponsibly intoxicated with the obvious advantage of the newly increased altitude on our side. Our friends wondered if we might be jumping the gun a bit traveling 10 hours in a car together after meeting only a week previously. His friends asked him, point-blank, if he wasn't worried that, not knowing me for very long, he might realize on the road that I made him absolutely insane and was possibly the most painful travel partner of all time (a thought that perhaps crossed his mind when, at the beginning of the ride, he asked which Gatorade I wanted from the cooler, and I told him whichever one was on the bottom). But, despite friendly concern on both sides, the ride went as smoothly and quickly as a ten hour car drive at night could ever, ever be expected to go.
As we got closer to Taos, the sun rose in the east at our backs, lighting up the red plateaus and endless plains of easter New Mexico. Turning north, we started to increase in elevation, rocky outcroppings and steep hills becoming more and more common. Exciting terrain for two born-and-bred Texans. Right outside of Taos, we finally caved and pulled over at one of the many "scenic overlooks" along the road, where I shot pictures from every possible angle - none of which did justice to what we were actually seeing. Of course. Finally rolling into Taos at about 10:00 in the morning, we were faced with road terminated in the distance by immense mountains. At this point I was pretty much silent, focused on the natural beauty that had surrounded us for the past 2 to 3 hours of the drive. We ate a quick but substantial breakfast at a local cafe before wandering around a nearby bookshop, searching for a book of New Mexican ghost stories to entertain ourselves with at night, and occasionally going back to pet the giant, motionless cat the was stretched out in front of the local fiction section (well, that was more me than Eddie). Then, we headed to Ski Valley to investigate the snowboarding (for Eddie) and snowshoeing (for me) opportunities there.
To be continued - I have to return to the seminar paper for my Civil War lit class, as much more entertaining as this certainly is...
Anyways, all that to say, the thought of being tied down in such a job terrifies because it would totally hinder my ability to make the aforementioned spontaneous life choices. Like I did this past week. I have a new best friend - his name is Eddie and, well, he's awesome. You know when you find one of those people you just click with? And not necessarily in an opposite-sex-I-want-to-be-all-over-you-ASAP kind of way, but in a I-feel-like-you-already-know-me-and-I-know-you kind of way. Well, that was Eddie. We have lots in common, our mutual love for nature being high on the list. I met him through a sorority sister, and I guess the rest is history (if you can consider two weeks ago history). Anyways, Eddie and I bonded over a Grand Canyon IMAX feature and then he asked if I wanted to go to Taos, NM with him the next week while I was on Spring Break (not that Spring Break means too very much in graduate school, but the mental connotations still linger from undergraduate days), and explore the mountains and the town with him. Well, duh. So I e-mailed my coach, who sent the welcome response that he had scheduled that to be a recovery week anyways, but some base layers and warm socks, and packed my things for an adventure.
Now, I love triathlon. Those of you who know me... You know this. Obviously. It's a love that borders on obsession. But the past couple of months, so much has been going wrong, and I feel like I haven't been able to make the kind of progress that I want to be making, and that every time things start to look up, some other crisis occurs... and so it never gets better. It's made training difficult at times. When it feels like I'm working just to stay in the same place. and that's the thing - training has started to feel like work, when it never has before. It's not always - most of the time I'm still thrilled to hit the road/trail/pool for a good workout. But there have been days where I just... haven't.
(I'm going to take a moment to comment on the fact that I just got up to get a refill on hot water here at Jupiter House where I'm typing, and just had the cutest kid ever literally trip and fall right and front of me, and I'm almost positive his family, including the incredibly good looking guy next to them are going to think I knocked him over. Fantastic.)
So anyways, there's been a little bit of strain on my usually positive attitude towards training that's left me feeling like I was on the edge of a rut. I figure this is probably a pretty common experience among anyone who does anything obsessively for long enough. I'm sure that it's been apparent in my blogs as I've griped about broken bikes, hurting knees, and chronic sinus infections. And it's become increasingly apparent to me. So when the opportunity for spontaneous adventure arose, it seemed the only thing to do was grab it and hope for some soul renewing in the Rockies.
Our plan was to leave Sunday night, and drive all night, arriving at Taos early Monday morning and exploring the town and Ski Valley until we could check into our hotel and crash for a couple of hours before going to get unashamedly and utterly irresponsibly intoxicated with the obvious advantage of the newly increased altitude on our side. Our friends wondered if we might be jumping the gun a bit traveling 10 hours in a car together after meeting only a week previously. His friends asked him, point-blank, if he wasn't worried that, not knowing me for very long, he might realize on the road that I made him absolutely insane and was possibly the most painful travel partner of all time (a thought that perhaps crossed his mind when, at the beginning of the ride, he asked which Gatorade I wanted from the cooler, and I told him whichever one was on the bottom). But, despite friendly concern on both sides, the ride went as smoothly and quickly as a ten hour car drive at night could ever, ever be expected to go.
As we got closer to Taos, the sun rose in the east at our backs, lighting up the red plateaus and endless plains of easter New Mexico. Turning north, we started to increase in elevation, rocky outcroppings and steep hills becoming more and more common. Exciting terrain for two born-and-bred Texans. Right outside of Taos, we finally caved and pulled over at one of the many "scenic overlooks" along the road, where I shot pictures from every possible angle - none of which did justice to what we were actually seeing. Of course. Finally rolling into Taos at about 10:00 in the morning, we were faced with road terminated in the distance by immense mountains. At this point I was pretty much silent, focused on the natural beauty that had surrounded us for the past 2 to 3 hours of the drive. We ate a quick but substantial breakfast at a local cafe before wandering around a nearby bookshop, searching for a book of New Mexican ghost stories to entertain ourselves with at night, and occasionally going back to pet the giant, motionless cat the was stretched out in front of the local fiction section (well, that was more me than Eddie). Then, we headed to Ski Valley to investigate the snowboarding (for Eddie) and snowshoeing (for me) opportunities there.
To be continued - I have to return to the seminar paper for my Civil War lit class, as much more entertaining as this certainly is...
Friday, March 6, 2009
Knees and crushed bikes
I've neglected my blog this past week... I know... I'm embarrassed. So, updates since the last post. My knees kept getting better after Thursday. I took Rusty for a long walk on the Greenbelt trail, and drove down to Galveston that night. Andrew and Mandy came down to meet me the next day, and we bummed around until Take a Hike Ike! on Sunday morning. My knees felt pretty much entirely better. Me = ecstatic. I was so stoked for that race, despite the high winds and 40 degree weather. Then, when we got there, we're informed that it's been turned into a duathlon - and at the time this seemed like more cause for cheering, due to the close-to-freezing weather and dark, choppy Lake Houston waters. I'll not lie. I cheered. Loudly. People might have looked at me strange. I did not care. So I'm prepping for the race - now a 3.5 mile run, 12 mile bike, 3.5 mile run (supposedly the runs were 3.0 miles... but not according to a friend's fancy Garmin thing) - and trying to figure out how to keep from freezing in a tri suit packed when it was 85 degrees outside. I end up in a long-sleeved race t-shirt, short-sleeved cycling jersey, and a pair of tights borrowed from some random guy at the race who said "Oh my god you don't have tights?! I have some in the car! Hold on!" Ok. I like tights. The race went well for the most part. Managed to keep a pretty steady training pace throughout the whole course. Had plenty of trouble in transition, mainly due to frozen hands and toes, but still was quicker than I used to be...
Finished with plenty of energy left, 8th over-all woman, 2nd in my AG... Man, I was on cloud-nine! Not too shabby for a training race! And I got lots of compliments on the bike - Big Tex - and on my race, too. The weather had warmed up, and I had a hot shower waiting for me at the hotel. Talk about awesome. So I said good-bye to my mom (she came up to Houston for the race), and hit the road.
Not an hour later, I'm in a gas station parking lot in Huntsville, crying hysterically, with my poor, sweet, $4,000 TT bike's broken little body hanging off my now useless bike rack. And because of the situation in the parking lot, no one knows who is at fault. Chances are, I'm taking the blame for chipping the bug protector on homeboy's giant-ass, Texas-sized truck which crunched Big Tex like a a thin piece of cardboard. I don't care about the new plaque in my front seat. The Sonic Blizzard in the cup-holder is forgotten and melting. I am frantically calling my coach/bike shop/random cycling friends to see what can be done TODAY - not tomorrow, TO-DAY. I finally get home to Denton, after driving 3 hours in a complete daze. I go straight to our team's bike shop, wheeling Big Tex like I would wheel my child, if I ever had a child with wheels. All the regular guys crowd around the repairs area as they hang my bike up... and...
"I'm really sorry Morgan... but... the frame is cracked..."
NOOOOO!
My beautiful carbon-fiber bike that I dreamed about for months and months and treated like my own child, who had survived my first major cycling wreck with me, who made me 3mph faster on average in my first ever race with him... I cried. All of the middle-aged cyclists in the shop were torn between comforting me and gaping at the disaster that was my once-perfect time trial bicycle. Asking what kind of insurance I have. Telling me that sometimes Specialized will do a crash replacement discount on bikes that new. Awkwardly patting me on the back. Telling me they know exactly how I feel. As I, who have completely lost all control and self-respect, stand there crying like I've lost my first-born. Well, I assume that's what it was like since I don't have any actually children.
I stayed at the shop for almost half an hour, just staring at my bike. It was like if I walked away, it would really all be over. Like that was it - but as long as I stayed, there was still hope. I understand if you're not a cyclist that I sound borderline insane at the moment. It's ok.
I later find out my insurance won't give me any money, and I'm still trying to figure out how to replace the frame and crank set.
Back to my knees.
My knees started hurting again on Monday. I think doing the race on Saturday in racing flats was an unfortunate decision. My knees have gotten progressively worse all week. This has not helped my mood regarding Big Tex. I'm a fast runner - but I need my knees. I'm a fast cyclist - but I need my bike. I'm a fast triathlete - but I need a little luck. Have you ever had one of those seasons where it just feels like you can't catch a break? Like as soon as everything get's better, it's going to get worse again, and maybe worse even than it was before? Like as soon as your knees are better and you place in your second multi-sport race of the year, your TT bike is going to get crunched, your knees are going to be jacked up again, and you're going to lock your keys in your car? I'm there. I've been there for about 6 months now. It's been a long 6 months. I know times like this can't last forever, but it's tough to stay positive when you just can't ever seem to stay on top. What do you do when it seems like things just keep falling apart?
Finished with plenty of energy left, 8th over-all woman, 2nd in my AG... Man, I was on cloud-nine! Not too shabby for a training race! And I got lots of compliments on the bike - Big Tex - and on my race, too. The weather had warmed up, and I had a hot shower waiting for me at the hotel. Talk about awesome. So I said good-bye to my mom (she came up to Houston for the race), and hit the road.
Not an hour later, I'm in a gas station parking lot in Huntsville, crying hysterically, with my poor, sweet, $4,000 TT bike's broken little body hanging off my now useless bike rack. And because of the situation in the parking lot, no one knows who is at fault. Chances are, I'm taking the blame for chipping the bug protector on homeboy's giant-ass, Texas-sized truck which crunched Big Tex like a a thin piece of cardboard. I don't care about the new plaque in my front seat. The Sonic Blizzard in the cup-holder is forgotten and melting. I am frantically calling my coach/bike shop/random cycling friends to see what can be done TODAY - not tomorrow, TO-DAY. I finally get home to Denton, after driving 3 hours in a complete daze. I go straight to our team's bike shop, wheeling Big Tex like I would wheel my child, if I ever had a child with wheels. All the regular guys crowd around the repairs area as they hang my bike up... and...
"I'm really sorry Morgan... but... the frame is cracked..."
NOOOOO!
My beautiful carbon-fiber bike that I dreamed about for months and months and treated like my own child, who had survived my first major cycling wreck with me, who made me 3mph faster on average in my first ever race with him... I cried. All of the middle-aged cyclists in the shop were torn between comforting me and gaping at the disaster that was my once-perfect time trial bicycle. Asking what kind of insurance I have. Telling me that sometimes Specialized will do a crash replacement discount on bikes that new. Awkwardly patting me on the back. Telling me they know exactly how I feel. As I, who have completely lost all control and self-respect, stand there crying like I've lost my first-born. Well, I assume that's what it was like since I don't have any actually children.
I stayed at the shop for almost half an hour, just staring at my bike. It was like if I walked away, it would really all be over. Like that was it - but as long as I stayed, there was still hope. I understand if you're not a cyclist that I sound borderline insane at the moment. It's ok.
I later find out my insurance won't give me any money, and I'm still trying to figure out how to replace the frame and crank set.
Back to my knees.
My knees started hurting again on Monday. I think doing the race on Saturday in racing flats was an unfortunate decision. My knees have gotten progressively worse all week. This has not helped my mood regarding Big Tex. I'm a fast runner - but I need my knees. I'm a fast cyclist - but I need my bike. I'm a fast triathlete - but I need a little luck. Have you ever had one of those seasons where it just feels like you can't catch a break? Like as soon as everything get's better, it's going to get worse again, and maybe worse even than it was before? Like as soon as your knees are better and you place in your second multi-sport race of the year, your TT bike is going to get crunched, your knees are going to be jacked up again, and you're going to lock your keys in your car? I'm there. I've been there for about 6 months now. It's been a long 6 months. I know times like this can't last forever, but it's tough to stay positive when you just can't ever seem to stay on top. What do you do when it seems like things just keep falling apart?
Thursday, February 26, 2009
I can walk!
Funny title for a post written by a triathlete, no? But appropriate, in this case, because for the past week, I haven't been able to walk without my knees hurting. It's been scary, frustrating, and just plain strange. I think I've always felt a little invincible when it comes to training - yeah, I've had my fair share of muscle problems, but joint problems have been non-existent. So, after a crazy yoga spree, I had to come to the realization that I am, in fact, not invincible - am actually susceptible to all the same weird problems as everyone else, and cannot running around doing stupid stuff like doing 9 hours of yoga classes in a week and a half after not doing yoga for 2 months - my knees pretty much felt like someone had knocked 'em with an aluminum baseball bat in a back alley (though somehow my wallet still kept its contents...). So I sat around being cranky (and not updating my blog...) for a good few days because I couldn't train and how completely miserable is that?!
But yesterday, thanks to my brilliant sports chiro/ART guru Dr. Laney who I here and now profess my undying love for, I suddenly realized I could take a normal stride again. I had wicked point-soreness due to the beating he gave my quads and groin muscles, but I could (kind of) walk without hurting. Today I did as instructed and gave my quads a good stretching, and I can walk - like normal!! Muscles are still a little sore, but knees feel about a million times better. Truly amazing. I went to my favorite all-organic cafe this morning and ordered a big breakfast with eggs and black beans and toast and hot tea and sat on the patio in the beautiful Texas weather and just thought about how completely wonderful life is.
And, while I'm excited to be on the way back to normal, I learned some really good lessons these past few days while I was unable to train - and was unsure when I would be able to start training again. Here are some of my insights on dealing with injuries - the right ways, and the wrong ways...
1. Remember that you were a complete human being before you started doing triathlons. You were happy and alive and reasonably entertained - triathlon did not define you, and you were ok.
2. Don't go around telling everybody about your injury woes - it's depressing for you and for them. Tell a few people who really love you and will care and be sympathetic... but otherwise, keep the talk to a minimum - more negative vibes are not what you need when you're injured, you've got enough already.
3. Go to all your favorite places. Your places where you can be sane.
4. Don't try to train through it. Duh. We all know this one, and yet... never seem to FOLLOW it... it is irrational to think that it will just go away if you KEEP USING IT!
5. Try to help out the athletes in your life. Encourage, lend a helping hand - let yourself live vicariously through them a little bit. Be there for them if they need advice or help with gear or scheduling.
6. Eat well. Don't go on a giant junk food binge, but do enjoy the foods you love. Stay healthy, but indulge a little bit on the foods you really like. If you're like me... hit up Central Market.
7. Do what you can. If you can swim - go swim your little heart out. If you can walk, take some long walks, and use the opportunity of being warmed up as a chance to really get a good stretch in. If all you can do is stretch... stretch away! And ice. Lots and lots of ice.
8. Get outside. If it's warm enough, go sit in the sun. It'll make you happier. I promise.
9. Don't freak out. Don't. Freak. Out. It's going to be ok. Worse things have happened. This too shall pass. Freaking out leads to irrational thinking. Irrational thinking often leads to irrational actions. Which will make the problem worse. So stay calm!
10. Stay proactive. You can always be doing something. Talk to your doctor. Find out what you can do to speed recovery. Research what's wrong with you, and see what's worked for other people. Talk to your triathlete friends who have dealt with similar problems, and find out what they did. Just stay positive and remember, perseverance wins the prize!
But yesterday, thanks to my brilliant sports chiro/ART guru Dr. Laney who I here and now profess my undying love for, I suddenly realized I could take a normal stride again. I had wicked point-soreness due to the beating he gave my quads and groin muscles, but I could (kind of) walk without hurting. Today I did as instructed and gave my quads a good stretching, and I can walk - like normal!! Muscles are still a little sore, but knees feel about a million times better. Truly amazing. I went to my favorite all-organic cafe this morning and ordered a big breakfast with eggs and black beans and toast and hot tea and sat on the patio in the beautiful Texas weather and just thought about how completely wonderful life is.
And, while I'm excited to be on the way back to normal, I learned some really good lessons these past few days while I was unable to train - and was unsure when I would be able to start training again. Here are some of my insights on dealing with injuries - the right ways, and the wrong ways...
1. Remember that you were a complete human being before you started doing triathlons. You were happy and alive and reasonably entertained - triathlon did not define you, and you were ok.
2. Don't go around telling everybody about your injury woes - it's depressing for you and for them. Tell a few people who really love you and will care and be sympathetic... but otherwise, keep the talk to a minimum - more negative vibes are not what you need when you're injured, you've got enough already.
3. Go to all your favorite places. Your places where you can be sane.
4. Don't try to train through it. Duh. We all know this one, and yet... never seem to FOLLOW it... it is irrational to think that it will just go away if you KEEP USING IT!
5. Try to help out the athletes in your life. Encourage, lend a helping hand - let yourself live vicariously through them a little bit. Be there for them if they need advice or help with gear or scheduling.
6. Eat well. Don't go on a giant junk food binge, but do enjoy the foods you love. Stay healthy, but indulge a little bit on the foods you really like. If you're like me... hit up Central Market.
7. Do what you can. If you can swim - go swim your little heart out. If you can walk, take some long walks, and use the opportunity of being warmed up as a chance to really get a good stretch in. If all you can do is stretch... stretch away! And ice. Lots and lots of ice.
8. Get outside. If it's warm enough, go sit in the sun. It'll make you happier. I promise.
9. Don't freak out. Don't. Freak. Out. It's going to be ok. Worse things have happened. This too shall pass. Freaking out leads to irrational thinking. Irrational thinking often leads to irrational actions. Which will make the problem worse. So stay calm!
10. Stay proactive. You can always be doing something. Talk to your doctor. Find out what you can do to speed recovery. Research what's wrong with you, and see what's worked for other people. Talk to your triathlete friends who have dealt with similar problems, and find out what they did. Just stay positive and remember, perseverance wins the prize!
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
New Chacos
I still can't train. I still can't train. I still can't train.
AHHHH! Who am I?! I am suffering from UAS - Unidentified Athlete Syndrome. UAS is when training has begun to define you as an individual, and then, due to circumstances also known as acts of God, i.e. those totally outside of your control (injury, family emergency, etc.), you are suddenly unable to train and even unable to race. You first just feel a little stir-crazy once the initial shock has worn off, but then you start to struggle with UAS. The thing that has begun to define you has suddenly disappeared... and you can't even control it. Chances are, this will happen when the weather is particularly fantastic and you can regularly see packs of cyclists and runners with well-behaved large dogs flying past on the road outside your home. While you sit on the sofa trying to remember how you lived before you were outside with those people. Or by yourself, flying solo down deserted country roads, just you and the blue sky and the giant sprawling plains and rolling hills, or gliding through cool open waters... Training... And then it's like, you can't remember how you lived before that! Did you live? Was life remotely exciting or fulfilling or anything? Did the sun really shine as bright? The sky really seem as blue, as when you saw it from the saddle of your Specialized Transition? There is a deep and disturbing suspicion that they did not...
How do we fight the blues of UAS? How am I fighting them? Or trying to, anyways... ? The past few days have been pretty revealing. I love the fact that I tend to throw myself head first into new hobbies and even life-changing decisions. I'm all about full-hearted spontaneous life-changing decisions. Actually, they've defined a lot of my life. But suddenly, I've realized I'm not invulnerable. And that, by letting triathlons dominate my entire life, I've set myself up for potentially brutal let-downs. Chances are, the problem I'm having right now will probably resolved in a few weeks max (knock on wood). My racing season will probably not be drastically affected by my current situation - slight knee pain due to a yoga over-dose - but I've been forced to realize in the past few days that there is always the possibility that I might not always be able to eat, sleep, and breathe triathlon. And it might not be my choice. People get hurt. Accidents happen. Lives have to change.
I was really fortunate a couple of months ago to briefly date a guy who is a nationally competitive chair racer. When he was younger, something happened that caused him to lose the use of both legs, putting him in a chair. I feel like, if this happened to me, my life would end. I wouldn't be able to go on or be happy. But here is this incredible man who faced one of the greatest challenges anyone will ever have to face... and I literally never once heard him complain about it. Ever. I Googled him one day and found an article where he talked about being in rehab, and realizing "it really wasn't going to be an issue." Instead of letting it end his life, or define it in a negative way, he let it turn his life into something amazing where he competes at a national level and is an advocate for the millions of other people in his situation. He's funny and fun and occasionally dry and sarcastic... and incredibly good-looking, if I may say so myself. People are amazed by him because he's overcome so much and always kept on living, kept a positive attitude, didn't let anything hold him back... and that not only inspires amazement, but confidence. It shows us the potential fortitude of human nature under duress - that perhaps we, too, could keep on living after everything we've used to define ourselves is changed or taken away.
We didn't stay together long... conflicting personalities, I think. But I still have immense respect for him. And so part of me looks at myself right now and sees my complete distress and then looks at him and feels really, really small. So I obviously have to find some way to deal with it, and not be the person who let's themselves sit in their discontent and frustration and make themselves and the people around them even a little less happy. Because that's just not worth it. So I took some steps today. I couldn't ride my bike or take a run... but I could sit outside in the beautiful Texas weather on a giant deck with cold water and a well-written book, with a friend and good conversation. I could see my sports chiro/ART specialist, and do as much as could be done to combat whatever this problem is. I could go to my team's swim practice, and do some underwater running and maybe some drills. I could decide to go to my race on Sunday, and just swim, if that's all I can do, because, well, I'm already signed up. I could go to REI and buy a pair of Chacos like I've always wanted and a Life is Good Nalgene with a little dude riding a TT bike on it. I could work on our team's website because that's something that's important to them, and that I can do for them. I can do all of these things. Or I can sit at home. With a bag of ice. And be miserable. And make my roommates more depressed. Well. Be honest with yourself. Which would you pick?
I came really close to making the wrong choice today. But then I remembered that I don't want to be that person. That's not the kind of person with the mental toughness to do multi-sport. That's not me. So. I'm going to swim practice.
AHHHH! Who am I?! I am suffering from UAS - Unidentified Athlete Syndrome. UAS is when training has begun to define you as an individual, and then, due to circumstances also known as acts of God, i.e. those totally outside of your control (injury, family emergency, etc.), you are suddenly unable to train and even unable to race. You first just feel a little stir-crazy once the initial shock has worn off, but then you start to struggle with UAS. The thing that has begun to define you has suddenly disappeared... and you can't even control it. Chances are, this will happen when the weather is particularly fantastic and you can regularly see packs of cyclists and runners with well-behaved large dogs flying past on the road outside your home. While you sit on the sofa trying to remember how you lived before you were outside with those people. Or by yourself, flying solo down deserted country roads, just you and the blue sky and the giant sprawling plains and rolling hills, or gliding through cool open waters... Training... And then it's like, you can't remember how you lived before that! Did you live? Was life remotely exciting or fulfilling or anything? Did the sun really shine as bright? The sky really seem as blue, as when you saw it from the saddle of your Specialized Transition? There is a deep and disturbing suspicion that they did not...
How do we fight the blues of UAS? How am I fighting them? Or trying to, anyways... ? The past few days have been pretty revealing. I love the fact that I tend to throw myself head first into new hobbies and even life-changing decisions. I'm all about full-hearted spontaneous life-changing decisions. Actually, they've defined a lot of my life. But suddenly, I've realized I'm not invulnerable. And that, by letting triathlons dominate my entire life, I've set myself up for potentially brutal let-downs. Chances are, the problem I'm having right now will probably resolved in a few weeks max (knock on wood). My racing season will probably not be drastically affected by my current situation - slight knee pain due to a yoga over-dose - but I've been forced to realize in the past few days that there is always the possibility that I might not always be able to eat, sleep, and breathe triathlon. And it might not be my choice. People get hurt. Accidents happen. Lives have to change.
I was really fortunate a couple of months ago to briefly date a guy who is a nationally competitive chair racer. When he was younger, something happened that caused him to lose the use of both legs, putting him in a chair. I feel like, if this happened to me, my life would end. I wouldn't be able to go on or be happy. But here is this incredible man who faced one of the greatest challenges anyone will ever have to face... and I literally never once heard him complain about it. Ever. I Googled him one day and found an article where he talked about being in rehab, and realizing "it really wasn't going to be an issue." Instead of letting it end his life, or define it in a negative way, he let it turn his life into something amazing where he competes at a national level and is an advocate for the millions of other people in his situation. He's funny and fun and occasionally dry and sarcastic... and incredibly good-looking, if I may say so myself. People are amazed by him because he's overcome so much and always kept on living, kept a positive attitude, didn't let anything hold him back... and that not only inspires amazement, but confidence. It shows us the potential fortitude of human nature under duress - that perhaps we, too, could keep on living after everything we've used to define ourselves is changed or taken away.
We didn't stay together long... conflicting personalities, I think. But I still have immense respect for him. And so part of me looks at myself right now and sees my complete distress and then looks at him and feels really, really small. So I obviously have to find some way to deal with it, and not be the person who let's themselves sit in their discontent and frustration and make themselves and the people around them even a little less happy. Because that's just not worth it. So I took some steps today. I couldn't ride my bike or take a run... but I could sit outside in the beautiful Texas weather on a giant deck with cold water and a well-written book, with a friend and good conversation. I could see my sports chiro/ART specialist, and do as much as could be done to combat whatever this problem is. I could go to my team's swim practice, and do some underwater running and maybe some drills. I could decide to go to my race on Sunday, and just swim, if that's all I can do, because, well, I'm already signed up. I could go to REI and buy a pair of Chacos like I've always wanted and a Life is Good Nalgene with a little dude riding a TT bike on it. I could work on our team's website because that's something that's important to them, and that I can do for them. I can do all of these things. Or I can sit at home. With a bag of ice. And be miserable. And make my roommates more depressed. Well. Be honest with yourself. Which would you pick?
I came really close to making the wrong choice today. But then I remembered that I don't want to be that person. That's not the kind of person with the mental toughness to do multi-sport. That's not me. So. I'm going to swim practice.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
I'm an athlete, not an administrator...
Ok, because I'm Type A, I'm actually very good at administrating. I've been an administrative assistant in many guises and titles over the past few years. I do well at it. But you know what I like more?? Riding my bike! But now I've hurt myself doing yoga, and, ok the last day and a half off from training was pretty ok, buuuut I'm already starting to get restless again, and my legs aren't feeling any better yet! I still haven't seen Dr. Laney yet, which is probably why, but still! I've behaved. I've stayed off my feet. I've iced. I've stretched. And for what? They actually feel a little worse now. Bleeeh.
So, anyways, since I can't be out doing what I really love, I've been working on administrative stuff for our team - namely, our website. Duh Duh DUNH! I don't really like sitting at computers that much. An hour is about my max, which is why I could never have a stereotypical corporate job. But last night I spent 6 HOURS on our website, which was supposed to have been finished by someone else, ohhh... 6 or 7 months ago. Frustrated? Who me? Please. I also didn't mind that my knees ached more after keeping them bent in the same position for so long. (Please no comments on the fact that I sounded like an old lady just then). Needless to say, I wasn't too thrilled with the situation. I would be less grumpy about it if I wasn't on a strict training hiatus at the moment. I'm supposed to have an easy run today... I want to run... : (
Enough ranting. So, clearly my legs need to get better ASAP. But for all you yogis out there - I haven't done anything for three days, shouldn't this be better by now? I haven't done yoga since Tuesday, and this really wasn't very bad to begin with... It seems kinda weird to me.
Anyways, sorry for the slightly incoherent and less thought-out post, but I'm going crazy over here. On a happier note, make sure you add our team's new blog to your list of those that you follow:
http://meangreentri.blogspot.com/
Have a happier Sunday than me! (Maybe some of the good vibes will make their way here and rub off on me...)
So, anyways, since I can't be out doing what I really love, I've been working on administrative stuff for our team - namely, our website. Duh Duh DUNH! I don't really like sitting at computers that much. An hour is about my max, which is why I could never have a stereotypical corporate job. But last night I spent 6 HOURS on our website, which was supposed to have been finished by someone else, ohhh... 6 or 7 months ago. Frustrated? Who me? Please. I also didn't mind that my knees ached more after keeping them bent in the same position for so long. (Please no comments on the fact that I sounded like an old lady just then). Needless to say, I wasn't too thrilled with the situation. I would be less grumpy about it if I wasn't on a strict training hiatus at the moment. I'm supposed to have an easy run today... I want to run... : (
Enough ranting. So, clearly my legs need to get better ASAP. But for all you yogis out there - I haven't done anything for three days, shouldn't this be better by now? I haven't done yoga since Tuesday, and this really wasn't very bad to begin with... It seems kinda weird to me.
Anyways, sorry for the slightly incoherent and less thought-out post, but I'm going crazy over here. On a happier note, make sure you add our team's new blog to your list of those that you follow:
http://meangreentri.blogspot.com/
Have a happier Sunday than me! (Maybe some of the good vibes will make their way here and rub off on me...)
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Quiet day
Today is this incredibly beautiful day. The sky is so blue and bright with white sun and the wind is strong, and good, because I'm not riding in it. The dry leaves still left from the fall are bright and dry in the sun, still intact, but looking like they would crunch and dissolve into dust under my shoes. It's a good day for living. I'm sitting by a window with half-open blinds and a little dusty sun spilling on the table next to my lap-top. It's surrounded by Faulkner and Garcia and Melville, and there's a cup half full of tea by me. My chair is wooden and a little creaky, and the worn surface of the table is humble in the full light, and like home, or something, and there's easy folk music, almost country but just escaping it, too soft and modest.
Days like today are good for my soul. Not because there aren't or aren't going to be other bright blue and white days with hot tea and quiet acoustic guitars, but because today I can find some peace in all of that. We lead such full lives, triathletes. We work hard, we train hard, and often, we play hard as well. We do so many things to the greatest extent that they can be done. And our full lives are, secretly or not so, the envy of others who keep existing on the fringe of living. Those who haven't found those things worth living for, those things that make life worth living. But in our great desire to really live, it's easy to forego the quieter things, the sitting and the thinking. To just live big and loud and excited all the time and not be about quiet trails and smooth country roads in the fall and big, quiet blue skies. Rest days. Recovery. The other half of our lifestyle.
I've been so hooked on the excitement of triathlons, 5k's, cycling tours, and half-marathons, that it's easy to forget who I was before all that. Because I know I'm still Morgan and everything that I loved before my favorite obsession of all time doesn't cease to exist or be important just because I've found something else that I love as well.
Before I was Triathlon Morgan, I was also an avid reader and writer, bass and guitar player, nature-lover and backpacker, organic-foods-obsessed gardener... You see, I have this tendency to find something new that I love and to throw myself into it head over heels without looking back. And, lucky me, it's always worked out. I'm so glad I'm a triathlete now, and a slightly obsessed one as well. I love every aspect of the sport, even the goofy clothes we wear. But recently, I've been lying in bed, looking over at my very sad and lonely acoustic guitar sitting in the corner of the room next to my foam roller, and realizing I've done it again. Tried to make myself all about this one thing when there are so many interesting thing I can be about, and have been about. I think I've mentioned before that moderation is something I struggle with.
I recently hurt myself (not badly, but just enough to put me out of the game for a couple of days) doing yoga, and my coach said no more training until I don't hurt anymore. So today I'm taking a real rest day, instead of riding up a hill repeatedly in high winds and cold temps at 9:00 in the morning. 3 months ago, this would have killed me. I hate missing training. I am Type A. Extremely Type A. Ask my parents. They're the ones I get it from. But... today I had a big breakfast with my dad, and then just sat and talked to him for 2 hours. Something we hadn't done in a long time. And then, instead of sitting around wondering when I needed to be ready to run/ride/swim, and where I was going to do that, and what I was going to wear, and whether or not other people were going to be joining me, I looked outside and thought it was a perfect day to sit around and do something I hadn't been doing nearly enough recently - reading and writing. Yeah, I'm a complete nerd, it's ok, you can think it. I'm secure in it. So I got all my things and went to this place in Denton called Art 6 that is like, one of my places. Where I go. When I need to be quiet and sane. It's an old white house that a friend of the married couple who I rent a room from looked at and decided would be a good place for coffee and tea and art and music and movie nights in the summer on the deck outside. And I got my usual pot of tea and found an table by a window where I could see all the blue in the sky and all the dry leaves on the ground and people laughing at tables, in chairs, outside where I can't hear them but can still see them being all light and happy. And I read for three hours. Now I'm writing this.
My soul is a little more still. My knees hurt a little bit less. It's been a good day.
Days like today are good for my soul. Not because there aren't or aren't going to be other bright blue and white days with hot tea and quiet acoustic guitars, but because today I can find some peace in all of that. We lead such full lives, triathletes. We work hard, we train hard, and often, we play hard as well. We do so many things to the greatest extent that they can be done. And our full lives are, secretly or not so, the envy of others who keep existing on the fringe of living. Those who haven't found those things worth living for, those things that make life worth living. But in our great desire to really live, it's easy to forego the quieter things, the sitting and the thinking. To just live big and loud and excited all the time and not be about quiet trails and smooth country roads in the fall and big, quiet blue skies. Rest days. Recovery. The other half of our lifestyle.
I've been so hooked on the excitement of triathlons, 5k's, cycling tours, and half-marathons, that it's easy to forget who I was before all that. Because I know I'm still Morgan and everything that I loved before my favorite obsession of all time doesn't cease to exist or be important just because I've found something else that I love as well.
Before I was Triathlon Morgan, I was also an avid reader and writer, bass and guitar player, nature-lover and backpacker, organic-foods-obsessed gardener... You see, I have this tendency to find something new that I love and to throw myself into it head over heels without looking back. And, lucky me, it's always worked out. I'm so glad I'm a triathlete now, and a slightly obsessed one as well. I love every aspect of the sport, even the goofy clothes we wear. But recently, I've been lying in bed, looking over at my very sad and lonely acoustic guitar sitting in the corner of the room next to my foam roller, and realizing I've done it again. Tried to make myself all about this one thing when there are so many interesting thing I can be about, and have been about. I think I've mentioned before that moderation is something I struggle with.
I recently hurt myself (not badly, but just enough to put me out of the game for a couple of days) doing yoga, and my coach said no more training until I don't hurt anymore. So today I'm taking a real rest day, instead of riding up a hill repeatedly in high winds and cold temps at 9:00 in the morning. 3 months ago, this would have killed me. I hate missing training. I am Type A. Extremely Type A. Ask my parents. They're the ones I get it from. But... today I had a big breakfast with my dad, and then just sat and talked to him for 2 hours. Something we hadn't done in a long time. And then, instead of sitting around wondering when I needed to be ready to run/ride/swim, and where I was going to do that, and what I was going to wear, and whether or not other people were going to be joining me, I looked outside and thought it was a perfect day to sit around and do something I hadn't been doing nearly enough recently - reading and writing. Yeah, I'm a complete nerd, it's ok, you can think it. I'm secure in it. So I got all my things and went to this place in Denton called Art 6 that is like, one of my places. Where I go. When I need to be quiet and sane. It's an old white house that a friend of the married couple who I rent a room from looked at and decided would be a good place for coffee and tea and art and music and movie nights in the summer on the deck outside. And I got my usual pot of tea and found an table by a window where I could see all the blue in the sky and all the dry leaves on the ground and people laughing at tables, in chairs, outside where I can't hear them but can still see them being all light and happy. And I read for three hours. Now I'm writing this.
My soul is a little more still. My knees hurt a little bit less. It's been a good day.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Some of the good nevers of triathlon
I stole or "borrowed" this idea from the blog "Yoga in the Adirondacks" written by a sweet yoga teacher named Debbie - this is my version of her "Never..." poem.
Never worry that you don't have enough time - the only thing you don't have enough time for is rushing - it will only set you back.
Never let it be all about winning - as soon as that happens, you'll always be losing, even if you're still getting medals.
Never forget that you started somewhere weak and slow and scared - just like the new triathlete racking their Wal-Mart bike next to yours.
Never let it become about the gear, the clothes, or any of the other stuff - it's only as fast as you are.
Never be so worried about you're eating that you pass up your mom's homemade sweet rolls.
Never let your fears, doubts, setbacks, and failures define who you are as an athlete or a person.
Never be too married to your own training plan to be able to take a beginner out on the bike, on the trail, or in the water.
Never forget the joy of an early morning run on your favorite trail as the sun comes up through the tree branches and everyone else is asleep.
Never forget your reason for doing this.
Never think you aren't good enough.
Never look back (especially on an open water swim course).
Never worry that you don't have enough time - the only thing you don't have enough time for is rushing - it will only set you back.
Never let it be all about winning - as soon as that happens, you'll always be losing, even if you're still getting medals.
Never forget that you started somewhere weak and slow and scared - just like the new triathlete racking their Wal-Mart bike next to yours.
Never let it become about the gear, the clothes, or any of the other stuff - it's only as fast as you are.
Never be so worried about you're eating that you pass up your mom's homemade sweet rolls.
Never let your fears, doubts, setbacks, and failures define who you are as an athlete or a person.
Never be too married to your own training plan to be able to take a beginner out on the bike, on the trail, or in the water.
Never forget the joy of an early morning run on your favorite trail as the sun comes up through the tree branches and everyone else is asleep.
Never forget your reason for doing this.
Never think you aren't good enough.
Never look back (especially on an open water swim course).
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Roll, stretch, ice, repeat
Iliotibial band:
"A fibrous reinforcement of the broad fascia on the lateral surface of the thigh, extending from the crest of the ilium to the lateral condyle of the tibia." - American Heritage Medical Dictionary
"A real pain in the butt... literally." - Generic fitness website
Ok, I think most of you reading this are probably pretty familiar with the infamous IT band (NOT a popular San Francisco musical group, as mentioned in one online forum...), simply because you do triathlons, and we all know that triathlon and the IT band have a very special relationship - you do one, there's a good chance you'll mess up the other. Well... ok that only stands true one way... you can't exactly "do" an IT band... though it can sure mess you up in a tri! ITB problems can cause pain in all kinds of places because the ITB pulls on all kinds of things. However, some of the most common areas for pain that I've heard of are the knee, thigh, and butt.
Towards the end of the 2008 season, I messed up my left ITB big time during a cycling tour, and it effectively ended my racing season. While I still did my last three events of the season, I had to walk the run in all of them. Talk about a big blow when running used to be my best event! What was really crazy was that, for the longest time, I didn't actually know what caused the damage. All I knew was that I was experiencing severe pain on the outer side of my knee, and that my knee would occasionally "pop"... which even I knew wasn't normal. I had been told (incorrectly) by a chiropractor who will remain nameless that I had stretched out the tendon in my knee running. It literally got to the point where I couldn't walk a quarter of a mile without being in severe pain. Finally, I met another local athlete who recommended me to local ART guy and my personal hero, Dr. Laney, who literally talked with me about the problem for about 3 minutes, said "You know, I think I know what that is - mind if I try just fixing it real quick?" Ok sure, yeah, go ahead, it's only been 2 months I'm sure you can fix it "real quick" no problem... 15 minutes later I could walk/run/hop around gleefully/etc. Due to an improper bike fit, the seat on my Fuji had been positioned too low, and the constant training on that bike had caused scar tissue build-up around my left IT band, causing it to fuse to the quadriceps, and create pull on the outside of the knee. Dr. Laney went in and (yes, painfully, but who cares???) broke up the scar tissue, relieving the pull on the knee.
I went back to see Dr. Laney a few more times as he continued to work all the gunk out of my leg, and also worked on some older problems that had arisen that past summer. My coach Aaron kept me on a easy run training program so that my legs had some base miles to rebuild and re-strengthen. And in a couple of months I was running normally again, and even working on perfecting my forefoot striking. Boy was I one happy triathlete.
Now, in the past couple of weeks, I seem to have awakened old ghosts... As mentioned in previous blogs, I've always loved yoga, but never been particularly dedicated. About two weeks ago, I was starting a recovery week, and decided that would be the perfect time to finally start dedicating more time and energy to my yoga practice. I so enjoyed my new commitment that I kind of dove in head-first... and apparently I was diving on the shallow end. Whoops. So I over-did it and now a lot of the things that I used to struggle with injury-wise have returned in the past couple of days. Nothing severe, by any means, but after the travesty that last season turned into, I'm easily freaked out! Now, Aaron knews me way too well, and quickly sent me a message telling me not to freak out. And to stretch... all day, every day. Well. I knew that. And, like any athlete, stretching is sooo my favorite... Not!! And of course, we all knew it's not just stretching.
We start out with the foam roller or Stick or whatever your torture device of choice may be. We slooowly roll the hurt/tight muscle on said device, rolling through whatever pain it may be causing. This goes on for 10-15 minutes for a really thorough massage. If you're thorough, you'll use moist heat before rolling. Anyways, after rolling, you stretch. I have three ITB stretches I really find to be effective. I like to sit in each stretch from 2-5 minutes to make sure that I'm really breathing and relaxing into it. I find that anything less than that just isn't as effective. Then, after all that fun, I get out the ice pack(s) and ice for 10 minutes. Then, I repeat. This whole process takes 30-40 minutes. I'm so lucky to be a student and part-time worker because I actually have time during the day to do all this. When I have a full-time job some day, I will have to be doubly careful to not get hurt!
So, my plans for today:
- Roll, stretch, ice, repeat
- Reading for class
- Roll, stretch, ice, repeat
- Reading for class
- Roll, stretch, ice, repeat
- Reading for class
- Massage (not the fun kind!)
- 3 hour class
- Dinner with girlfriends
- NO YOGA!!!
- Reading for class
Sound like a fun day?? If so, and you haven't already tried being a college student and a triathlete... you should really give it a go! I joke. Bad days are few and far between. I'm incredibly blessed by my life, and the not-fun times make the good ones even better. Just wait till after my first tri of the season and read about how completely ecstatic I am then : ) But until then... roll, stretch, ice, repeat...
"A fibrous reinforcement of the broad fascia on the lateral surface of the thigh, extending from the crest of the ilium to the lateral condyle of the tibia." - American Heritage Medical Dictionary
"A real pain in the butt... literally." - Generic fitness website
Ok, I think most of you reading this are probably pretty familiar with the infamous IT band (NOT a popular San Francisco musical group, as mentioned in one online forum...), simply because you do triathlons, and we all know that triathlon and the IT band have a very special relationship - you do one, there's a good chance you'll mess up the other. Well... ok that only stands true one way... you can't exactly "do" an IT band... though it can sure mess you up in a tri! ITB problems can cause pain in all kinds of places because the ITB pulls on all kinds of things. However, some of the most common areas for pain that I've heard of are the knee, thigh, and butt.
Towards the end of the 2008 season, I messed up my left ITB big time during a cycling tour, and it effectively ended my racing season. While I still did my last three events of the season, I had to walk the run in all of them. Talk about a big blow when running used to be my best event! What was really crazy was that, for the longest time, I didn't actually know what caused the damage. All I knew was that I was experiencing severe pain on the outer side of my knee, and that my knee would occasionally "pop"... which even I knew wasn't normal. I had been told (incorrectly) by a chiropractor who will remain nameless that I had stretched out the tendon in my knee running. It literally got to the point where I couldn't walk a quarter of a mile without being in severe pain. Finally, I met another local athlete who recommended me to local ART guy and my personal hero, Dr. Laney, who literally talked with me about the problem for about 3 minutes, said "You know, I think I know what that is - mind if I try just fixing it real quick?" Ok sure, yeah, go ahead, it's only been 2 months I'm sure you can fix it "real quick" no problem... 15 minutes later I could walk/run/hop around gleefully/etc. Due to an improper bike fit, the seat on my Fuji had been positioned too low, and the constant training on that bike had caused scar tissue build-up around my left IT band, causing it to fuse to the quadriceps, and create pull on the outside of the knee. Dr. Laney went in and (yes, painfully, but who cares???) broke up the scar tissue, relieving the pull on the knee.
I went back to see Dr. Laney a few more times as he continued to work all the gunk out of my leg, and also worked on some older problems that had arisen that past summer. My coach Aaron kept me on a easy run training program so that my legs had some base miles to rebuild and re-strengthen. And in a couple of months I was running normally again, and even working on perfecting my forefoot striking. Boy was I one happy triathlete.
Now, in the past couple of weeks, I seem to have awakened old ghosts... As mentioned in previous blogs, I've always loved yoga, but never been particularly dedicated. About two weeks ago, I was starting a recovery week, and decided that would be the perfect time to finally start dedicating more time and energy to my yoga practice. I so enjoyed my new commitment that I kind of dove in head-first... and apparently I was diving on the shallow end. Whoops. So I over-did it and now a lot of the things that I used to struggle with injury-wise have returned in the past couple of days. Nothing severe, by any means, but after the travesty that last season turned into, I'm easily freaked out! Now, Aaron knews me way too well, and quickly sent me a message telling me not to freak out. And to stretch... all day, every day. Well. I knew that. And, like any athlete, stretching is sooo my favorite... Not!! And of course, we all knew it's not just stretching.
We start out with the foam roller or Stick or whatever your torture device of choice may be. We slooowly roll the hurt/tight muscle on said device, rolling through whatever pain it may be causing. This goes on for 10-15 minutes for a really thorough massage. If you're thorough, you'll use moist heat before rolling. Anyways, after rolling, you stretch. I have three ITB stretches I really find to be effective. I like to sit in each stretch from 2-5 minutes to make sure that I'm really breathing and relaxing into it. I find that anything less than that just isn't as effective. Then, after all that fun, I get out the ice pack(s) and ice for 10 minutes. Then, I repeat. This whole process takes 30-40 minutes. I'm so lucky to be a student and part-time worker because I actually have time during the day to do all this. When I have a full-time job some day, I will have to be doubly careful to not get hurt!
So, my plans for today:
- Roll, stretch, ice, repeat
- Reading for class
- Roll, stretch, ice, repeat
- Reading for class
- Roll, stretch, ice, repeat
- Reading for class
- Massage (not the fun kind!)
- 3 hour class
- Dinner with girlfriends
- NO YOGA!!!
- Reading for class
Sound like a fun day?? If so, and you haven't already tried being a college student and a triathlete... you should really give it a go! I joke. Bad days are few and far between. I'm incredibly blessed by my life, and the not-fun times make the good ones even better. Just wait till after my first tri of the season and read about how completely ecstatic I am then : ) But until then... roll, stretch, ice, repeat...
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
In case you haven't seen it...
I'm stealing this from TRI DIESEL's blog. Please visit this link if you want to laugh loudly and hysterically.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r3S0wu4Zbfk
Triathletes - enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r3S0wu4Zbfk
Triathletes - enjoy.
Not my knees!!
The dreaded knee pain... ewww... Last week I decided it would be a good idea to start putting some more time and focus into my yoga practice (or lack thereof - seriously, I'm embarrassed by how little attention I've given it). I've not been feeling so hot recently, and I had a recovery week, so it seemed like the perfect time. I forgot how much I love yoga. After the first session, I was so excited, I went two more times that week. I was having a blast. Then I went the last two nights (Monday and Tuesday). I had a great time during each class, and felt like, if I could keep up that frequency, I could really start to see some improvement in my practice. But then it came... knee pain. Oh yuck. I've had IT Band issues in the past, and I think some of the problem is due to that. It definitely feels that way, anyways. However, there is also just some very mild achiness in other parts of the knees... and THAT freaks me out. As we all know, knee problems can be a death sentence to triathletes.
Obviously the first step was damage control. No more yoga this week. Heat, stretch, ice, repeat. Fortunately I have a second recovery week (since I've been sick and the month and half before these weeks was pretty intense training-wise... and just life-wise, which can definitely have a tiring effect), so my training is minimal. I did a half hour run this morning, and felt fine all through the run - no pain, but I ache a little now. So, anyways, taking it easy this week. Second step - Monday morning I have an appointment with The Laney (my sports chiropractor/ART guy who I swear by and who I think secretly knows magic because there is no other way he could possibly fix everything he has), and hopefully it will be be an ITB problem and we can get it straightened out and I can just go to an easier once-a-week yoga routine. I think I might also need to have my hips adjusted... ugh... fun!
So the third step was o
nline research (I'm a sucker for learning exactly what's going on in my body... though have learned that the internet can, at times *gasp* be unreliable). This visual aid was helpful.
<-------
If only I'd known that ahead of time!!!
But I actually did learn that yoga can be completely fantastic for your knees... or completely awful. Depending on whether or not you're doing it right and listening to your body. My guess is that, with the amount of training I do, and the lack of yoga I've done in the past years, the quick increase in amount of sessions the past couple of weeks was a recipe for disaster. I guess I got a little over-excited. And I was probably lucky, since it really does seem that the problem is fairl mild, and mostly refined to my IT Bands. I also know that I didn't have any problems last week, so this is really pretty recent. I've actually wondered if Aaron's insanely hard weights routine on Saturday didn't aggravate things just a little bit. I think it's definitely a possibility. OR it could have been riding the stationary bike on Sunday... why did I do that? I don't even LIKE stationary bikes, it just seemed like it would be easier... WRONG. It was actually quite difficult.
Anyways. What have we learned today?
1. Everything in moderation.
2. You better be hardcore if you want to be one of Aaron's athletes (well, kind of kidding - he is a very good and responsible coach and would never hurt his athletes... but you do have to be hardcore).
3. Online visual aids are useful for learning purposes.
4. Stationary bikes really ARE evil. I knew it.
5. I did too many new things this week. Maybe I should just stick with what works. And meditate or something if I need to get more chi...
Ok now stop reading my blog and go out and enjoy this beautiful Texas weather!
Obviously the first step was damage control. No more yoga this week. Heat, stretch, ice, repeat. Fortunately I have a second recovery week (since I've been sick and the month and half before these weeks was pretty intense training-wise... and just life-wise, which can definitely have a tiring effect), so my training is minimal. I did a half hour run this morning, and felt fine all through the run - no pain, but I ache a little now. So, anyways, taking it easy this week. Second step - Monday morning I have an appointment with The Laney (my sports chiropractor/ART guy who I swear by and who I think secretly knows magic because there is no other way he could possibly fix everything he has), and hopefully it will be be an ITB problem and we can get it straightened out and I can just go to an easier once-a-week yoga routine. I think I might also need to have my hips adjusted... ugh... fun!
So the third step was o
nline research (I'm a sucker for learning exactly what's going on in my body... though have learned that the internet can, at times *gasp* be unreliable). This visual aid was helpful.<-------
If only I'd known that ahead of time!!!
But I actually did learn that yoga can be completely fantastic for your knees... or completely awful. Depending on whether or not you're doing it right and listening to your body. My guess is that, with the amount of training I do, and the lack of yoga I've done in the past years, the quick increase in amount of sessions the past couple of weeks was a recipe for disaster. I guess I got a little over-excited. And I was probably lucky, since it really does seem that the problem is fairl mild, and mostly refined to my IT Bands. I also know that I didn't have any problems last week, so this is really pretty recent. I've actually wondered if Aaron's insanely hard weights routine on Saturday didn't aggravate things just a little bit. I think it's definitely a possibility. OR it could have been riding the stationary bike on Sunday... why did I do that? I don't even LIKE stationary bikes, it just seemed like it would be easier... WRONG. It was actually quite difficult.
Anyways. What have we learned today?
1. Everything in moderation.
2. You better be hardcore if you want to be one of Aaron's athletes (well, kind of kidding - he is a very good and responsible coach and would never hurt his athletes... but you do have to be hardcore).
3. Online visual aids are useful for learning purposes.
4. Stationary bikes really ARE evil. I knew it.
5. I did too many new things this week. Maybe I should just stick with what works. And meditate or something if I need to get more chi...
Ok now stop reading my blog and go out and enjoy this beautiful Texas weather!
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Here comes the sun...
What a gray gloomy day!
We've been really spoiled this winter here in North Texas. It's only iced ONCE, and no snow! And, better yet, the temps have stayed in the 60's and 70's during the day, and the sunshine is abundant and bright. It is the perfect training/living weather. Great for everything and everyone. (Well, maybe not for farmers... but I guess I don't always think about that... sorry guys...) For those who don't know, I am not a cold weather fan. The only cold weather state I would ever live in is Colorado, and that is ONLY because, aside from the frigid winter temps, it is the absolute coolest place in the world. And I hear that, despite the cold, they still get plenty of sun - which is an absolute must for me.
I'm one of those that, when the sun goes away for a day, I can get cranky. Take it away for 2 or 3 days, and I start to get lethargic. 4 days to a week - you better watch out! So days like today, especially after a long succession of perfect sunny days, not only catch me off my guard, but also put me into a state of mild mental hibernation. Especially when I'm not feeling so hot, like I have been the past month. I'm currently camped out in my favorite local coffeehouse, trying to absorb the warm lighting and color scheme, and the heat from my tea while I will myself to 1) do my reading for my Faulkner/Hurston class, and 2) get on my bike later... I kind of feel like a little lizard trying to catch some sun on a rock.
I know I'll feel better after the bike because I'll have all those good endorphins (I can never spell that word correctly...) floating around. I'm also looking forward to yoga tonight, because that always does wonders for my spirit (and I get to wear my new Kyodan yoga pants!). And, after that, Lindsay and I are going to catch a late movie. AND... I know the forecast is sun for tomorrow : ) Sure rainy day blues cure.
We've been really spoiled this winter here in North Texas. It's only iced ONCE, and no snow! And, better yet, the temps have stayed in the 60's and 70's during the day, and the sunshine is abundant and bright. It is the perfect training/living weather. Great for everything and everyone. (Well, maybe not for farmers... but I guess I don't always think about that... sorry guys...) For those who don't know, I am not a cold weather fan. The only cold weather state I would ever live in is Colorado, and that is ONLY because, aside from the frigid winter temps, it is the absolute coolest place in the world. And I hear that, despite the cold, they still get plenty of sun - which is an absolute must for me.
I'm one of those that, when the sun goes away for a day, I can get cranky. Take it away for 2 or 3 days, and I start to get lethargic. 4 days to a week - you better watch out! So days like today, especially after a long succession of perfect sunny days, not only catch me off my guard, but also put me into a state of mild mental hibernation. Especially when I'm not feeling so hot, like I have been the past month. I'm currently camped out in my favorite local coffeehouse, trying to absorb the warm lighting and color scheme, and the heat from my tea while I will myself to 1) do my reading for my Faulkner/Hurston class, and 2) get on my bike later... I kind of feel like a little lizard trying to catch some sun on a rock.
I know I'll feel better after the bike because I'll have all those good endorphins (I can never spell that word correctly...) floating around. I'm also looking forward to yoga tonight, because that always does wonders for my spirit (and I get to wear my new Kyodan yoga pants!). And, after that, Lindsay and I are going to catch a late movie. AND... I know the forecast is sun for tomorrow : ) Sure rainy day blues cure.
Monday, February 16, 2009
You want my arm to go WHERE?
Since I haven't been feeling the hottest the past month, I asked Aaron to give me an extra recovery week (so I have two total now), and decided to use the extra time (and energy...) to re-focus on my yoga practice. Now, yoga and I have had an on again/off again relationship... pretty much ever since we met 4 years ago at the studio my mom goes to. I always say I'm going to be better about practicing regularly, but it never happens. Recently, though, I've heard so many triathletes go on and on about how great yoga has been for their training/racing that I was finally inspired to get back into practice.
So, a little over a week ago, I found myself and my poorly neglected mat in the meditation garden outside the Yoga Hut in Denton. (That's right. There's a meditation garden.) I'd been to the Yoga Hut, ohhh once every two or three months for the last couple of years. I got my roommate to come along for a beginners Hatha class - she was easy to persuade because we'd taken the dogs out on the trail earlier in the day, and both needed to get back in a chi place! The instructor, Sheree, remembered us from our failed attempts at commitment in the past, and chatted with us for a bit before the class started. By the time 6:00 rolled around, the room was PACKED! Denton has gone all yoga on us, apparently...
The class definitely pushed us a little (especially with the downward-facing dog - that pose should never, ever be done for more than 10 minutes... shudder...), and afterwards we went out for a post-class beer and veggie tacos. It was, honestly, a really relaxing night. I felt a lot better mentally than I had in weeks - ever since I'd started feeling sick a month before.
So, two days later, I went for another class - this time a morning one. Another great experience. It was a harder class, and I thought at the end "wow, that really wasn't that bad!" I then went and had a great day. Then I woke up the next morning. Uh... why am I so sore I want to die?? I haven't done weights this week... What the heck? Wha... oh my god. It's the yoga! That's why my hamstrings are trying to separate themselves from my thighs and run away crying. Wow. Flexibility, mental focus, AND strength-training... Yoga is the shit! I have to go again... So that night I go again. Of course. And I wake up the next day... even more sore. Well. Shocker.
Then on Saturday, Aaron takes me through my most grueling weights routine yet. I take Sunday as an easy day with an hour ride on the trainer. Ahhh... not even too sore! I'm getting stronger! I'm going to kick so much ass this year! I will do yoga again tomorrow!
Lindsay and I go for the Hatha class again tonight. I'm feeling like a yoga pro at this point. I've got my mat laid out, I'm in my seated position, relaxing, practicing my breathing. And... well, let's be honest, checking out the cute guy in the back of the room who I've just found out is from Colorado (that's hot, ok?). But just checking him out a little. Mostly being very, very focused and chi. And stuff.
Sheree starts taking us through our standing positions for the night. Now, I know I'm not a very flexible individual. I won't pretend to be. My hamstrings are short and the muscles in my shoulders could put a rubber band ball to shame. But I tend to make it through yoga classes reasonably easily. I'm aware of my body, and know how to manipulate better than many who are new to the yoga practice - I can thank running and tri's for this. But, well, tonight... a week's worth of yoga and that weights session... oh boy. I am not holding things together like usual! Sheree is having to come over and adjust me about once every 4 minutes - and I am not enjoying all of the adjustments. Finally, things come to a head. We get to the restorative portion of the session. I'm laying down. Trying to subtly adjust my crying body. And Sheree comes up behind and says "Ok Morgan, I'm just going to adjust your shoulders a bit..." Grabs shoulder blade. Pulls down towards my butt. Draws borderline expletive from my mouth. Sorry, Sheree... maybe you shouldn't grab that. I try to smile reassuringly, but I probably just look like I'm grimacing in pain... well... I AM in pain...
Needless to say, I will be back at the studio tomorrow morning... I have to keep an eye out for cute Colorado guy...
So, a little over a week ago, I found myself and my poorly neglected mat in the meditation garden outside the Yoga Hut in Denton. (That's right. There's a meditation garden.) I'd been to the Yoga Hut, ohhh once every two or three months for the last couple of years. I got my roommate to come along for a beginners Hatha class - she was easy to persuade because we'd taken the dogs out on the trail earlier in the day, and both needed to get back in a chi place! The instructor, Sheree, remembered us from our failed attempts at commitment in the past, and chatted with us for a bit before the class started. By the time 6:00 rolled around, the room was PACKED! Denton has gone all yoga on us, apparently...
The class definitely pushed us a little (especially with the downward-facing dog - that pose should never, ever be done for more than 10 minutes... shudder...), and afterwards we went out for a post-class beer and veggie tacos. It was, honestly, a really relaxing night. I felt a lot better mentally than I had in weeks - ever since I'd started feeling sick a month before.
So, two days later, I went for another class - this time a morning one. Another great experience. It was a harder class, and I thought at the end "wow, that really wasn't that bad!" I then went and had a great day. Then I woke up the next morning. Uh... why am I so sore I want to die?? I haven't done weights this week... What the heck? Wha... oh my god. It's the yoga! That's why my hamstrings are trying to separate themselves from my thighs and run away crying. Wow. Flexibility, mental focus, AND strength-training... Yoga is the shit! I have to go again... So that night I go again. Of course. And I wake up the next day... even more sore. Well. Shocker.
Then on Saturday, Aaron takes me through my most grueling weights routine yet. I take Sunday as an easy day with an hour ride on the trainer. Ahhh... not even too sore! I'm getting stronger! I'm going to kick so much ass this year! I will do yoga again tomorrow!
Lindsay and I go for the Hatha class again tonight. I'm feeling like a yoga pro at this point. I've got my mat laid out, I'm in my seated position, relaxing, practicing my breathing. And... well, let's be honest, checking out the cute guy in the back of the room who I've just found out is from Colorado (that's hot, ok?). But just checking him out a little. Mostly being very, very focused and chi. And stuff.
Sheree starts taking us through our standing positions for the night. Now, I know I'm not a very flexible individual. I won't pretend to be. My hamstrings are short and the muscles in my shoulders could put a rubber band ball to shame. But I tend to make it through yoga classes reasonably easily. I'm aware of my body, and know how to manipulate better than many who are new to the yoga practice - I can thank running and tri's for this. But, well, tonight... a week's worth of yoga and that weights session... oh boy. I am not holding things together like usual! Sheree is having to come over and adjust me about once every 4 minutes - and I am not enjoying all of the adjustments. Finally, things come to a head. We get to the restorative portion of the session. I'm laying down. Trying to subtly adjust my crying body. And Sheree comes up behind and says "Ok Morgan, I'm just going to adjust your shoulders a bit..." Grabs shoulder blade. Pulls down towards my butt. Draws borderline expletive from my mouth. Sorry, Sheree... maybe you shouldn't grab that. I try to smile reassuringly, but I probably just look like I'm grimacing in pain... well... I AM in pain...
Needless to say, I will be back at the studio tomorrow morning... I have to keep an eye out for cute Colorado guy...
Saturday, February 14, 2009
I can get off!
Ah, the transition. Everyone's favorite part of the triathlon. The part that separates the men from the boys. The women from the girls. The coordinated from the not... so... coordinated. Changing of shoes, putting on of helmets, stripping of wetsuits, mounting of bikes, barefoot running on asphalt and gravel... Perhaps, truthfully, the most stressful of all aspects of a race. Triathletes, we train and train and train in the water, on the bike, and in our running shoes. We follow complex workout schedules, eat specific and (oftentimes) borderline goofy diets, and buy all the best gear to get us to the finish line quicker and easier. We'll do anything to go faster. Because we like to win. But... those awkward minutes spent between events... What about those? Every triathlete remembers their first race. Excitement. Nerves. More nerves than excitement, really. They anticipated using their transition time as a chance to catch their breath and sort of mentally re-group. No big rush. No hurry. The only goal then (and rightfully so) was to finish. To get that first race under their belt so they could move on to bigger and better things - or maybe just so they could say they'd done it, and then move on to something else. But they also remember seeing people racking their bikes, whose cycling shoes were already clipped to their pedals, maybe held in place with... are those rubber bands? What... ? But why? Surely they weren't going to try and put their shoes on while on the bike... ? Those people who really looked like they knew what they were doing, like they were somehow comfortable with the nerve-wracking atmosphere that surrounded them, like they belonged... Those people that we all wanted to look like at some point, who breezed through the transition area as effortlessly as through the three events.
I remember the first time I saw two of the guys from my team practicing the rubber band technique - and thinking to myself, "Yeah, right." No way. No. Way. I always tell people that I have no coordination - and that's why I do endurance sports, instead of sports involving me trying to aim for... anything. But triathlon has this little dirty secret called transitions that, if done properly and efficiently, require just as much coordination as a lacrosse pass or a basketball shot. They require athletes to have deep level of comfort with their equipment, and, in some cases, the ability to manipulate it in ways previously unexpected. They require the clutzes (such as myself) to find a way to control their unintentionally self-destructive impulses in order to spend as little time as possible on something that is not one of the three events purportedly being competed in - but is still very much a part of the race.
So a few months ago my coach uses one of his cheesy lines that I totally love (no joke), and tells me, "Morgan, I want you to come in FIRST at Nationals... in transitions!" Ok ok... So this weekend, he and myself, and a couple of folks from the UNT team all get together in a big empty parking lot on campus, on a cold, rainy afternoon, to attempt to make us look less like fools in the transition area.
We begin with, well, what we're beginning with... Aaron (my coach) has us set up our transition area as we normally would before a race (thank you Playtri for letting us use your bike racks!) - he tells us not to change anything, but to just do it exactly as we normally would. So we all go about laying out towels, shoes, helmets, etc. Getting our bikes racked in our position of choice. Then Aaron makes us all get a ways back from the bike rack, looks at us and yells... "GO!" and we all run at our bikes and start trying to get on shoes/helmets/bikes, ride off, come back, get off shoes, get on shoes, get off helmets... well, you get the idea. We were slow. Which, of course, was exactly what Aaron was hoping to demonstrate - just in case there was any doubt about why we were paying him to be there! Mandy curled up into the fetal position under her sweatshirt. I started to giggle. Andrew, who actually already had some working knowledge of transitions was already over by the truck airing up his tires and making us look even slower. Aaron is, I think, trying not to laugh... too hard.
Ok... that's why we're there!
So in case you haven't already realized, the transition can be broken down into a fine science, particularly everything having to do with the bike, and Aaron has broken it all down into a step-by-step learning process for us:
First - learning to stand with both feet on the same side of the bike, left foot on pedal, right foot pushing.
Desired result: riding in a straight line, turning, and coming back - all without the left foot touching the ground.
Actual result: Mandy and I wildly veering off towards the road and finally, after many repeated attempts, making it to the turn-around, hopping off, picking up bikes, turning them around, and wobbling back to the starting point, while occasionally veering off into other parts of the parking lot. Aaron says "do it again! You have to get this so you can swing your right leg over the saddle!" Mandy and I laugh.
Second - learning to mount the bike while moving.
Desired result: swinging right leg over the back of the saddle and ending up on the actual saddle in a seated position.
Actual result: Mandy and I, after finally being able to ride on one side without veering all over the parking lot, spend about 5 minutes doing some awkward back leg movements that probably end up resembling retarded flamingos trying to do ballet as we repeatedly try and fail to actually get our legs over the seat.
Third - learning to dismount the bike while moving.
Desired result: swinging right leg back over seat and back into its original position right behind left leg.
Actual result: I pedal in circles for 5 minutes. I swear, I'm going to bring it back over eventually...
Fourth - wait. Three and a half.
Desired result: perform steps one-three gracefully and smoothly WITH SHOES ALREADY ATTACHED TO PEDALS.
Actual result: I ride in three giant parking lot-encompassing circles, and during that time manage to 1) get my right leg over the seat, 2) get my shoes on, 3) get my shoes back off, 4) swing my right leg back over, 5) dismount yelling "Hey guys, did you see that?!! Did you see that? I CAN GET OFF!" 6) watch everyone fall over laughing and see guy on the street look at me like I just grew a second head.
Over-all desired result: smooth, precise athleticism.
Over-all actual result: complete hysteria.
Reason #179 that triathlon is in fact the greatest sport ever.
For those of you wondering... yes, we did in fact manage to finally do all the steps appropriately and even somewhat quickly, perhaps even looking like we knew what we were doing (probably not, but at least we felt cool and, as I think I've mentioned before, triathletes are not above a desire to look cool). In all honesty, the clinic was great, and we'll all be a lot faster for it. But I'll never drive past that parking lot again without seeing myself coasting along on the left side of my bike yelling at everyone to look at how I got off...
I remember the first time I saw two of the guys from my team practicing the rubber band technique - and thinking to myself, "Yeah, right." No way. No. Way. I always tell people that I have no coordination - and that's why I do endurance sports, instead of sports involving me trying to aim for... anything. But triathlon has this little dirty secret called transitions that, if done properly and efficiently, require just as much coordination as a lacrosse pass or a basketball shot. They require athletes to have deep level of comfort with their equipment, and, in some cases, the ability to manipulate it in ways previously unexpected. They require the clutzes (such as myself) to find a way to control their unintentionally self-destructive impulses in order to spend as little time as possible on something that is not one of the three events purportedly being competed in - but is still very much a part of the race.
So a few months ago my coach uses one of his cheesy lines that I totally love (no joke), and tells me, "Morgan, I want you to come in FIRST at Nationals... in transitions!" Ok ok... So this weekend, he and myself, and a couple of folks from the UNT team all get together in a big empty parking lot on campus, on a cold, rainy afternoon, to attempt to make us look less like fools in the transition area.
We begin with, well, what we're beginning with... Aaron (my coach) has us set up our transition area as we normally would before a race (thank you Playtri for letting us use your bike racks!) - he tells us not to change anything, but to just do it exactly as we normally would. So we all go about laying out towels, shoes, helmets, etc. Getting our bikes racked in our position of choice. Then Aaron makes us all get a ways back from the bike rack, looks at us and yells... "GO!" and we all run at our bikes and start trying to get on shoes/helmets/bikes, ride off, come back, get off shoes, get on shoes, get off helmets... well, you get the idea. We were slow. Which, of course, was exactly what Aaron was hoping to demonstrate - just in case there was any doubt about why we were paying him to be there! Mandy curled up into the fetal position under her sweatshirt. I started to giggle. Andrew, who actually already had some working knowledge of transitions was already over by the truck airing up his tires and making us look even slower. Aaron is, I think, trying not to laugh... too hard.
Ok... that's why we're there!
So in case you haven't already realized, the transition can be broken down into a fine science, particularly everything having to do with the bike, and Aaron has broken it all down into a step-by-step learning process for us:
First - learning to stand with both feet on the same side of the bike, left foot on pedal, right foot pushing.
Desired result: riding in a straight line, turning, and coming back - all without the left foot touching the ground.
Actual result: Mandy and I wildly veering off towards the road and finally, after many repeated attempts, making it to the turn-around, hopping off, picking up bikes, turning them around, and wobbling back to the starting point, while occasionally veering off into other parts of the parking lot. Aaron says "do it again! You have to get this so you can swing your right leg over the saddle!" Mandy and I laugh.
Second - learning to mount the bike while moving.
Desired result: swinging right leg over the back of the saddle and ending up on the actual saddle in a seated position.
Actual result: Mandy and I, after finally being able to ride on one side without veering all over the parking lot, spend about 5 minutes doing some awkward back leg movements that probably end up resembling retarded flamingos trying to do ballet as we repeatedly try and fail to actually get our legs over the seat.
Third - learning to dismount the bike while moving.
Desired result: swinging right leg back over seat and back into its original position right behind left leg.
Actual result: I pedal in circles for 5 minutes. I swear, I'm going to bring it back over eventually...
Fourth - wait. Three and a half.
Desired result: perform steps one-three gracefully and smoothly WITH SHOES ALREADY ATTACHED TO PEDALS.
Actual result: I ride in three giant parking lot-encompassing circles, and during that time manage to 1) get my right leg over the seat, 2) get my shoes on, 3) get my shoes back off, 4) swing my right leg back over, 5) dismount yelling "Hey guys, did you see that?!! Did you see that? I CAN GET OFF!" 6) watch everyone fall over laughing and see guy on the street look at me like I just grew a second head.
Over-all desired result: smooth, precise athleticism.
Over-all actual result: complete hysteria.
Reason #179 that triathlon is in fact the greatest sport ever.
For those of you wondering... yes, we did in fact manage to finally do all the steps appropriately and even somewhat quickly, perhaps even looking like we knew what we were doing (probably not, but at least we felt cool and, as I think I've mentioned before, triathletes are not above a desire to look cool). In all honesty, the clinic was great, and we'll all be a lot faster for it. But I'll never drive past that parking lot again without seeing myself coasting along on the left side of my bike yelling at everyone to look at how I got off...
Friday, February 13, 2009
My body is talking to me...
Did you know that most triathletes are typically Type A, obsessive-compulsive geeks? Well. Know it. We try to put on a cool front, but in case you haven't already seen through it, it's all show. Some of us are Type A about... everything. Life. Work, family, hobbies, traffic... Have to be the boss. Everything has to be perfect to the smallest detail, and if it is not, we will not rest, we will not un-tense our muscles, until it is. Since we have strict personal rules and standards, we also expect others to live by similar standards. Yes - it is frightening. Fortunately, those folks are a minority.
The rest of us are Type A about one thing - training. Some more than others, certainly. I can think of plenty of examples of opposite ends of the spectrum. But regardless of your inclination towards OCD training methods or a more relaxed approach, either way, there is constantly an underlying guilt haunting the back of your mind, waiting to rear its nagging, obnoxious little head when you deviate from your training plan, or, if you don't (gasp - shudder) have a training plan, to constantly ask you "WHY AREN'T YOU DOING MORE??!" I like to call him the Obnoxious Nagging Triathlon Guilt Monster, or ONTGM for short. I do not call him this is in front of my friends. I would feel like even more of a geek than I already am. Not necessary, as all of my triathlon friends would be quick to inform you - and as all of my non-triathlete friends would be even quicker to inform you. But here I am baring my soul and letting you into the secret and stressful world of guilty, over-worked triathletes.
You may ask - Is anyone safe from ONTGM? Some may be. I have in mind a few seriously Type A athletes who literally follow their training plans to the tee, and therefore can have no real qualms, it would seem, about their endeavors. I can't imagine being them and having anything other than an underlying peace and contentment, knowing that I have done everything in power to enable myself to kick the largest amount of ass possible as efficiently as possible. My coach, for instance, is die-hard about his training plan, and he has the research and experience to back it up. I can't picture him ever worrying about not training enough or not training properly. I could easily be wrong, and he might suffer from ONTGM attacks like the rest of us, but I don't see it. On the other hand, I have a close friend who is an excellent athlete, but hardly ever trains, and therefore seems to be continually afflicted by ONTGM to the point where she actually seems to have been been nagged into regular training this season. I mean, this is serious stuff.
Quick pause - if you're a triathlete, right now you're probably thinking "Yes. I know exactly what she means. If only I felt guilty more often I would train more often and be a more competitive athlete." If you're a regular person, you're probably thinking "WTF?" Why do we love the sport so much if entails such a rigorous and taxing schedule? Why? I'll tell you why. It's because WE'RE TYPE A. As mentioned previously. See, triathlon does rely to some extent on naturally ability, but, like any endurance sport, much of an athlete's ability to be competitive comes more from hard work and time spent training. We can control it!!! And I think we can all identify with the joy of working hard for something, and then achieving it. And of course, there are other perks as well - healthy lifestyle, super hot bodies, adrenaline rushes, etc. So don't let my descriptions of ONTGM fool you - we still love the sport, but like any addiction, it has the odd downside.
About a month ago, I came back from a short trip to Hawaii. I noticed the day we left that I was tired - weirdly tired. Fatigued. I just assumed a busy week of hiking, drinking, training, and even some racing, had just left me with the to recover. A reasonable assumption. It soon became clear that something else was going on. I kept having days in a row when I was too tired to get out of bed, and I would feel light-headed and dizzy, with strange headaches. Ok. Not good. I see FOUR, count them, one two three FOUR doctors. I finally get tests run - and they come back with some strange results. First - the CT scan for the headaches. I have chronic sinusitis. Ok. Antibiotic and Mucinex. Second - bloodwork. Elevated iron and potassium levels. Anti-nuclear antibodies present. Oh, and apparently I had mono sometime in the past. Hmmm. Could explain the complete and utter exhaustion of the past month. So I go to the doctor (again), and she starts to go over the bloodwork. She explains that the iron and potassium aren't actually high enough to cause any problems. Ok. That's easy. However, she says that the ANA result is not good. Not good enough that I need to go see a specialist. She starts listing other symptoms for rheumatoid disorders (which are what ANA is indicative of), but I don't have any of them. So that's weird. She seems convinced, ultimately, that I had mono recently, and am still recovering. Only thing is, aside from fatigue, I haven't had any other symptoms of the virus. But she still seems pretty sure. Ok.
So I ask the doctor what I should do right now, assuming I am in fact recovering from mono. She says lots of rest and healthy eating. I say "define rest." She looks at me strangely. Says that I should be getting 8 to 10 hours of sleep a night, taking my supplements, and eating a healthy diet. So finally, I ask her about training. And she tells me to listen to my body. Listen to my body. It's been talking to me. Apparently. I tend not to listen when it complains because it can be a whiny little bitch sometimes. But now I have to listen to it. Refer back to my description of Type A triathletes given earlier. I am not pleased with this situation.
My sick little Type A triathlete self is definitely having a rough time right now. It's having to make a bunch of choices that make its Type A part a little crazy. Taking days off. Changing up my schedule... It's very painful. I know if you're reading this, and you're not an athlete, you may not understand. And I understand that. A year ago, I would have though anyone in my situation insane for trying to continue to train period. But I didn't have this fun addiction a year ago, so here I am. And, as long as the doc says I can keep training, you better believe I'll be out there. I mean, my first A race isn't until April - and we can have this fixed by then, right? Right.
The rest of us are Type A about one thing - training. Some more than others, certainly. I can think of plenty of examples of opposite ends of the spectrum. But regardless of your inclination towards OCD training methods or a more relaxed approach, either way, there is constantly an underlying guilt haunting the back of your mind, waiting to rear its nagging, obnoxious little head when you deviate from your training plan, or, if you don't (gasp - shudder) have a training plan, to constantly ask you "WHY AREN'T YOU DOING MORE??!" I like to call him the Obnoxious Nagging Triathlon Guilt Monster, or ONTGM for short. I do not call him this is in front of my friends. I would feel like even more of a geek than I already am. Not necessary, as all of my triathlon friends would be quick to inform you - and as all of my non-triathlete friends would be even quicker to inform you. But here I am baring my soul and letting you into the secret and stressful world of guilty, over-worked triathletes.
You may ask - Is anyone safe from ONTGM? Some may be. I have in mind a few seriously Type A athletes who literally follow their training plans to the tee, and therefore can have no real qualms, it would seem, about their endeavors. I can't imagine being them and having anything other than an underlying peace and contentment, knowing that I have done everything in power to enable myself to kick the largest amount of ass possible as efficiently as possible. My coach, for instance, is die-hard about his training plan, and he has the research and experience to back it up. I can't picture him ever worrying about not training enough or not training properly. I could easily be wrong, and he might suffer from ONTGM attacks like the rest of us, but I don't see it. On the other hand, I have a close friend who is an excellent athlete, but hardly ever trains, and therefore seems to be continually afflicted by ONTGM to the point where she actually seems to have been been nagged into regular training this season. I mean, this is serious stuff.
Quick pause - if you're a triathlete, right now you're probably thinking "Yes. I know exactly what she means. If only I felt guilty more often I would train more often and be a more competitive athlete." If you're a regular person, you're probably thinking "WTF?" Why do we love the sport so much if entails such a rigorous and taxing schedule? Why? I'll tell you why. It's because WE'RE TYPE A. As mentioned previously. See, triathlon does rely to some extent on naturally ability, but, like any endurance sport, much of an athlete's ability to be competitive comes more from hard work and time spent training. We can control it!!! And I think we can all identify with the joy of working hard for something, and then achieving it. And of course, there are other perks as well - healthy lifestyle, super hot bodies, adrenaline rushes, etc. So don't let my descriptions of ONTGM fool you - we still love the sport, but like any addiction, it has the odd downside.
About a month ago, I came back from a short trip to Hawaii. I noticed the day we left that I was tired - weirdly tired. Fatigued. I just assumed a busy week of hiking, drinking, training, and even some racing, had just left me with the to recover. A reasonable assumption. It soon became clear that something else was going on. I kept having days in a row when I was too tired to get out of bed, and I would feel light-headed and dizzy, with strange headaches. Ok. Not good. I see FOUR, count them, one two three FOUR doctors. I finally get tests run - and they come back with some strange results. First - the CT scan for the headaches. I have chronic sinusitis. Ok. Antibiotic and Mucinex. Second - bloodwork. Elevated iron and potassium levels. Anti-nuclear antibodies present. Oh, and apparently I had mono sometime in the past. Hmmm. Could explain the complete and utter exhaustion of the past month. So I go to the doctor (again), and she starts to go over the bloodwork. She explains that the iron and potassium aren't actually high enough to cause any problems. Ok. That's easy. However, she says that the ANA result is not good. Not good enough that I need to go see a specialist. She starts listing other symptoms for rheumatoid disorders (which are what ANA is indicative of), but I don't have any of them. So that's weird. She seems convinced, ultimately, that I had mono recently, and am still recovering. Only thing is, aside from fatigue, I haven't had any other symptoms of the virus. But she still seems pretty sure. Ok.
So I ask the doctor what I should do right now, assuming I am in fact recovering from mono. She says lots of rest and healthy eating. I say "define rest." She looks at me strangely. Says that I should be getting 8 to 10 hours of sleep a night, taking my supplements, and eating a healthy diet. So finally, I ask her about training. And she tells me to listen to my body. Listen to my body. It's been talking to me. Apparently. I tend not to listen when it complains because it can be a whiny little bitch sometimes. But now I have to listen to it. Refer back to my description of Type A triathletes given earlier. I am not pleased with this situation.
My sick little Type A triathlete self is definitely having a rough time right now. It's having to make a bunch of choices that make its Type A part a little crazy. Taking days off. Changing up my schedule... It's very painful. I know if you're reading this, and you're not an athlete, you may not understand. And I understand that. A year ago, I would have though anyone in my situation insane for trying to continue to train period. But I didn't have this fun addiction a year ago, so here I am. And, as long as the doc says I can keep training, you better believe I'll be out there. I mean, my first A race isn't until April - and we can have this fixed by then, right? Right.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Why do triathletes love spandex?
It's past time for a blog.
In the past, I have been an obsessive blogger, and then, during one of the most interesting parts of my life... I stop? I mean, I actually have things to blog about now, like bike crashes and backpacking and surfing and... spandex...
I love triathlons. I mean, how can't you love something that can get 100-200 incredibly fit guys together in one place... and all wearing spandex, or some fancy technical variant? I'll tell you - it's not possible. Of course, there are lots of practical reasons for triathletes to wear those tight little race suits, shorts and tops. They dry quickly, which is important when you have to start all of your races with a swim. They provide some compression, which is good for your muscles. They don't have any drag in the wind. They're comfortable and breathe well. Spandex is God's gift to competitive endurance athletes. But you want to know the real reason we all like to wear spandex? A week ago I went to Richardson Bike Mart with some friends so one of them could buy his first tri suit. He was excited. Like... really excited. So we get there, and he goes through all the normal parts of the process of purchasing tri attire... "Uh... it all looks really small." "Holy shit, have you seen how expensive this is?!" "Oooo... feel this one..." And so finally he gets in a dressing room with a few different options to try on. First question: "Is this too tight?" Oh you poor newbie. Once we assured him that what he had on was, in fact, NOT too tight, he looked in the mirror again. Looked at his arm. Kind of... flexed his arm. A little. Then flexes both arms. Then smiles a little at his reflection. THERE IT IS! The first moment of "Damn. I look good in this." You see, triathlon training requires an intense combination of cardio and strength training, and triathletes are (rightfully so) proud of what they've worked for. Modest? No. Endearing? Probably not. But we do like to see ourselves in some skin tight stretchy stuff. Think middle school girl buying her first dress for the school dance. We're about twenty times worse. I promise you whatever we buy, we either use immediately, or go model it in front of our mirror later that day (if not immediately after we get home). We walk around in it. Check out our butt. Check how our calf and quad muscles look. Admire the way it accents our shoulder muscles. If you haven't seen it before, just find a triathlete to go shopping with - it will be worth your time.
It took me a little longer to find a my first suit. I bought one when I was just coming out of my running phase and into actually triathlon training, so I wasn't exactly a svelte, sculpted athlete. I was pretty thin, but what I did have was not rock solid. Or, even... like rock in any way. And of course I was used to being around a bunch of stick figure runners who made even me look like I needed to lay off the Shipley's. So the first time I picked a two piece suit up off the rack I was, needless to say, a bit intimidated. I took about 30 possible options into the dressing room and emerged, half an hour later, with ONE that I felt mildly comfortable with. And even that one made me think, "Damn... ok, 300 crunches a day is definitely not enough." Now? I'm just as shameless as everyone else in the sport. My favorite pair of tri shorts have a three-inch inseam, and I can't WAIT for our team's new race suits to get here so I can have the head-to-toe spandex experience. Of course, doing my first naked 5K this past October definitely helped get me there. Spandex seems like pretty mild stuff after that.
It's ok if you judge me for liking to see lots of fit guys in skin tight stuff. I don't blame you. It's shallow and superficial - but it totally makes getting up for races at 4:00AM a whole hell of a lot easier. And, ok, let's be honest, not everyone in the tri world is exactly at the 4% body fat hardcore athlete point yet (I know I'm not), so we get to see a little bit of everything displayed underneath that spandex... And I like that. I like that people are comfortable enough with themselves and serious enough about getting fit that they're willing to rock the spandex those first few times when they're maybe not exatly the ones the opposite sex is swooning over. I like that the tri community is cool enough to want to help and encourage these people, instead of looking down on them. I like that occasionally, those guys are the ones who zoom by me on the bike portion going like 27+ mph (ok, I never really like getting passed... but it's ok every once in a while). Anyways, like I said - I love triathlon. What a great sport.
I'm glad to be back in the world of blogging. I kept this post light because... it's the first one. You can't get heavy right away. But there's been some heavy stuff going on recently. So if you want to know more... then stay tuned for more updates on my adventures in the world of triathlon.
In the past, I have been an obsessive blogger, and then, during one of the most interesting parts of my life... I stop? I mean, I actually have things to blog about now, like bike crashes and backpacking and surfing and... spandex...
I love triathlons. I mean, how can't you love something that can get 100-200 incredibly fit guys together in one place... and all wearing spandex, or some fancy technical variant? I'll tell you - it's not possible. Of course, there are lots of practical reasons for triathletes to wear those tight little race suits, shorts and tops. They dry quickly, which is important when you have to start all of your races with a swim. They provide some compression, which is good for your muscles. They don't have any drag in the wind. They're comfortable and breathe well. Spandex is God's gift to competitive endurance athletes. But you want to know the real reason we all like to wear spandex? A week ago I went to Richardson Bike Mart with some friends so one of them could buy his first tri suit. He was excited. Like... really excited. So we get there, and he goes through all the normal parts of the process of purchasing tri attire... "Uh... it all looks really small." "Holy shit, have you seen how expensive this is?!" "Oooo... feel this one..." And so finally he gets in a dressing room with a few different options to try on. First question: "Is this too tight?" Oh you poor newbie. Once we assured him that what he had on was, in fact, NOT too tight, he looked in the mirror again. Looked at his arm. Kind of... flexed his arm. A little. Then flexes both arms. Then smiles a little at his reflection. THERE IT IS! The first moment of "Damn. I look good in this." You see, triathlon training requires an intense combination of cardio and strength training, and triathletes are (rightfully so) proud of what they've worked for. Modest? No. Endearing? Probably not. But we do like to see ourselves in some skin tight stretchy stuff. Think middle school girl buying her first dress for the school dance. We're about twenty times worse. I promise you whatever we buy, we either use immediately, or go model it in front of our mirror later that day (if not immediately after we get home). We walk around in it. Check out our butt. Check how our calf and quad muscles look. Admire the way it accents our shoulder muscles. If you haven't seen it before, just find a triathlete to go shopping with - it will be worth your time.
It took me a little longer to find a my first suit. I bought one when I was just coming out of my running phase and into actually triathlon training, so I wasn't exactly a svelte, sculpted athlete. I was pretty thin, but what I did have was not rock solid. Or, even... like rock in any way. And of course I was used to being around a bunch of stick figure runners who made even me look like I needed to lay off the Shipley's. So the first time I picked a two piece suit up off the rack I was, needless to say, a bit intimidated. I took about 30 possible options into the dressing room and emerged, half an hour later, with ONE that I felt mildly comfortable with. And even that one made me think, "Damn... ok, 300 crunches a day is definitely not enough." Now? I'm just as shameless as everyone else in the sport. My favorite pair of tri shorts have a three-inch inseam, and I can't WAIT for our team's new race suits to get here so I can have the head-to-toe spandex experience. Of course, doing my first naked 5K this past October definitely helped get me there. Spandex seems like pretty mild stuff after that.
It's ok if you judge me for liking to see lots of fit guys in skin tight stuff. I don't blame you. It's shallow and superficial - but it totally makes getting up for races at 4:00AM a whole hell of a lot easier. And, ok, let's be honest, not everyone in the tri world is exactly at the 4% body fat hardcore athlete point yet (I know I'm not), so we get to see a little bit of everything displayed underneath that spandex... And I like that. I like that people are comfortable enough with themselves and serious enough about getting fit that they're willing to rock the spandex those first few times when they're maybe not exatly the ones the opposite sex is swooning over. I like that the tri community is cool enough to want to help and encourage these people, instead of looking down on them. I like that occasionally, those guys are the ones who zoom by me on the bike portion going like 27+ mph (ok, I never really like getting passed... but it's ok every once in a while). Anyways, like I said - I love triathlon. What a great sport.
I'm glad to be back in the world of blogging. I kept this post light because... it's the first one. You can't get heavy right away. But there's been some heavy stuff going on recently. So if you want to know more... then stay tuned for more updates on my adventures in the world of triathlon.
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